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Yachi was a self destructive person. This was not a fact well known by most. Most saw the reality she had constructed around herself. The illusion that she did not constantly seek to taste death.
She drank four shots of coffee in the morning even though it made her anxious, she didn't wear a coat or scarf during the winter, walked barefoot on hot pavement, blared her music as loud as possible, picked petty fights.
Whenever Yachi felt like dying, she did everything possible to help her feel alive.
Nearly everyone close to her saw her as anxious and unassuming. Some viewed her as weak. But really, Yachi was a machine of self destruction. She had her finger on the trigger and pulled it over and over again.
People incited fear in her, yet she relished in their presence and attention. She loved the sting of fear, yet hated the feeling.
It was the fear that reminded her she was alive and not a figment of her own imagination.
She was a hurricane turned in on itself, she was a fire that burned itself, she was tearing herself apart from the inside out.
Yet, all everyone saw was an extroverted shy girl with an attraction to the strange.
"Whatcha thinking about?" Hinata asked as Yachi finishing painting a rainbow on her cheek. It was gay pride in Tokyo and by god she was going to celebrate the only part of herself she was proud of. She turned her face and started on the other cheek.
"Pretty girls," she lied. Then again she was always thinking about that so it wasn't technically a lie.
Hinata raised his eyebrows, "Who knows, maybe you'll meet someone," he replied with a grin.
"Not all of us are as lucky as you and Kageyama," she retorted. She started on her eyeliner, glancing at Hinata's similarly lined eyes. Yachi could never get it as good as his.
"I didn't meet Tobio at pride?"
"I know how you met," Yachi sighed, wondering how Hinata functioned when he took things so literally. "I meant the fact that you met him at all."
"Yachi! Don't say that, you'll meet someone!" he cried.
Yachi simply laughed and said she was joking, but really, she didn't want to find anyone.
Everyone she dated believed her facade, saw her as the front she put up. It was unreasonable really, to want everybody to see her one way, but to also want them to see her for who she really is. She wanted someone to know her, and she wanted to know someone; from the inside out.
She knew that would never happen, though, so she resolved herself to be satisfied with a string of short-term girlfriends, knowing beforehand it would end. She ruined relationships before they even began.
Yachi was pure force, she was poison, she was fire. She wrecked everything she touched. Ruin was her scythe and destruction her crown.
And she absolutely hated it. She hated being this way, it didn't feel powerful, it didn't feel romantic. It felt like a fucking tragedy; it felt like shit.
The taste of catastrophe was nicotine, it stung at first, but you got used to it and, eventually, addicted to it.
Yachi reached into her bag she had made for pride and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter and then put a cigarette to her lips, cupping the flame out of pure habit even though she was inside.
Hinata scowled. She merely laughed.
"You won't be laughing when you get lung cancer," he said, scowl deepening.
"This is the only badass, cliche lesbian thing about me, let me have it," she grinned.
"My bathroom's gonna smell like second-hand smoke," Hinata complained.
"Shut up and let me paint your face."
Hinata leaped backwards, "You're gonna burn me!"
"No I'm not. Now let me paint this bisexual pride flag on your face before I change my mind."
Hinata sighed and Yachi laughed, ignoring the pain inside.
§
People crowded the streets, pride flags flapped in the gentle wind. There were chants and cheers and people just plain screaming with joy. This was unity, this was solidarity. A cry for peace amidst chaos.
Yachi had been to pride two times before, but the niceness of the people continued to make her day. Three girls had already complimented on her shoes, another two on her outfit, one even screamed that she was pretty at her from across the street. Yachi continued to stutter out thank you's, and apologies when she bumped into people, though with this crowd not running into people was basically impossible. Everyone grinned and laughed; their pride worn on their sleeve, their happiness contagious, even Yachi found herself smiling, truly smiling, her pain somewhat forgotten, even if just for a day.
Hinata and Kageyama were taking the opportunity to show just how truly gay they were by making out in the street every five feet. A few people cheered when they saw them. Yachi kept them by their sleeves and dragging them along. She wanted to see everything.
The following hours Yachi swapped stories and laughter with people. She took photos and bought clothes and food from rainbow covered vendors. She held up a sign some guy had given her and screamed her lungs out. A girl even asked to kiss her for a photo and it took a solid three minutes of Yachi stuttering before she could get out a coherent 'yes'.
Hinata and Kageyama held hands and laughed and flirted in their own weird way; the jealousy that normally gripped her in their presence took a leave of absence for the day.
When the day was done, Yachi didn't want it to leave.
She knew she would go back to the painful drone of anxiety and depression tomorrow, she wanted to stay in this one day forever. Yachi elected not to think about it.
"Just one gay bar!" Hinata pleaded, "You can leave if you get tired."
Yachi sighed, actually excited despite appearances, "Fine," she said, "Just one."
They ended up going to not one, but four bars. Yachi was too tired to dance but she loved the atmosphere so she kept going and normally ended up talking to other people hanging out in the corner.
However she was tired, and sweaty, and far too sober to put up with Hinata and Kageyama's aggressive gayness.
Yachi went to the bar to get a shot, hoping to get drunk enough to live this day over and over again. She slid into the surprisingly comfortable bar stool. She still had her pride flag wrapped around her shoulders like a cape.
She was flicking through the photos from earlier in the day on her phone, when she heard the bartender's voice.
"What can I get you?"
Yachi looked quickly up from her phone. Her breath hitched in her throat.
Yachi was deeply affected when it came to girls. The entire day she'd been a stuttering, blushing mess.
But, see, Yachi had a specific type. And that type was looks like they can kick my ass.
The girl in front of her certainly had that vibe. She had jet black hair with a faint purple tint to it, multiple piercings in her ears, and tattoos visible on her arms and shoulders. She was wearing thick-rimmed hipster glasses and a black tank-top, which Yachi thought was completely unfair.
"Uh..." she blanked completely on what she was going to order and was staring dumbfoundedly at the girl's face, "Your choice."
The girl grinned at her and started pouring her a shot. Yachi watched her graceful, tattooed hands as she did so.
"You here for pride?" The bartender asked, a slight smile to her lips.
"No, I just really like rainbows and gay bars," Yachi's eyes widened as she realized what she'd said and instantly clasped a hand over her mouth, apology already in her mind.
The girl laughed, deep and loud. Yachi found herself craving more of that laugh when it ended.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Shimizu Kiyoko," the bartender replied with a smile.
"I'm, um, Hitoka Yachi. I mean. Yachi Hitoka," she then presumed to make finger guns. Kiyoko snorted. Yachi smiled but her eyes screamed pain and regret. She downed the shot.
It was strong and burned and had no offset to its violent flavor.
"Whoa," Yachi said and made a face.
"I like it," Kiyoko frowned.
"Nononononono," Yachi said desperately backtracking, "I'm just a bit of a lightweight," she lied; she could drink both Hinata and Kageyama under the table.
Kiyoko smiled and Yachi knew in that moment that she would be spending the rest of the night at the bar.
§
"There's no way you have business cards on them that say, 'Sorry, I'm a raging lesbian'. There's no way you had those printed," Yachi said, drunk off shots and attraction.
"I actually have one on me," Kiyoko drew a card out of her pocket and handing it to Yachi. It did indeed say that. It had a rainbow on it and said 'Please Do Not Hit On Me' in tiny text at the bottom.
"I'm keeping this," Yachi grinned.
"Lemme write my number on it," Kiyoko replied, proceeding to search for a pen. Yachi felt herself blush and desperately tried to hide her face.
Kiyoko leaned over the bar, her hair falling in her face as she scrawled out a number and an address. All Yachi could do was gape at her and try to calm her racing heart.
"That's my number, and that's where I work during the day," Kiyoko said, smiling softly at Yachi.
"T-thanks?" Yachi replied, utterly dumbfounded that she just got an incredibly pretty (and funny) girl's number, "OH, I-I should probably give you my number. Um? Do you have a phone? Of course you have a phone you just gave me your number," Yachi sighed, painfully aware of her flushed face and stuttering. Kiyoko bit her lip to keep from laughing.
"I don't have my phone on me," she said, "But I have a hand," she offered. Yachi grabbed the pen and gripped Kiyoko's hand. The feeling of it felt right. Or Yachi was just drunk. Probably the latter.
As soon as she finished scrawling out her number she got a text from Hinata.
04:32] from orange boi: we gotta GO
04:32] from orange boi: boi kageyama so drunk man we gotta
04:33] from orange boi: jfc hes sucha lightweight
04:33] to orange boi: ur one to talk
04:33] from orange boi: shut the fuck off
Yachi turned her phone off and smiled at Kiyoko.
"I gotta go, my friends drunk off his ass," she said, not wanting to leave.
"Okay. Text me alright?" her eyes looked almost hopeful.
So she left to find Hinata and Kageyama, reflecting the hope that Kiyoko had shown.
Yachi was okay. She was finally okay.
But then morning came, and with it the overwhelming presence of despair.
§
Yachi ignored the first three of Kiyoko's texts.
So what, she had made a brief connection in a gay bar with a pretty girl, but that didn't mean anything. Yachi would continue to destroy everything around her and inside her, and if she did start a relationship, it would crumble away and she'd be left with another regret to add to the insurmountable mountain.
She regretted most things, every misplaced word, every destroyed relationship, every scar she wouldn't let heal. Every single thing Yachi did wrong, she clung to, they reminded her she was alive. They also reminded her what a piece of shit she was.
Each time her phone buzzed with a new text Yachi flinched. Each kind text from Kiyoko made it harder for Yachi to ignore the growing issue.
She'll forget about you eventually anyways... Yachi reminded herself each time she went to text back. She wanted the strange, beautiful girl from the bar to forget about her, and simultaneously didn't want to be forgotten.
Yachi didn't want to start something she knew she would inevitably destroy.
She was hesitant to do anything, because she knew whatever it was it would crumble apart at her poisonous touch. She kept her friendships carefully, weary of letting people know her. Because if they knew her, the real her, the desperately chaotic her; they would leave, and anything that had once grown would die because of Yachi. Yachi's friendships were tentative, and her relationships shallow and fleeting.
By the fourth time her phone buzzed with a text from Kiyoko, Yachi was filled with rage. Rage at herself, frustration with how she was; why, oh god why , was she built like this. She could feel the fire growing inside her. Yachi wanted to destroy herself, and the world along with her.
Because there was something foul inside her. It wanted to devour everything within its grasp. It wanted pain to be wrought upon those who hadn't truly known it. It craved turmoil. It wanted to raze everything and start the world over from scratch. Create a world of disarray and pain. Finally, finally, have the outside mirror the in.
Yachi's grip was tight on her phone, the muscles in her arm tense to throw it. She wanted to end it, cut herself off so no one had to put up with her fake, annoying, exterior or witness her hellish interior.
A scream sounded from her throat. Ripping out without permission, a piece of maelstrom that could no longer be contained within. It echoed about her empty apartment. If the neighbors were home they probably would've called the police.
She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. But it had all come bubbling up.The frustration and hatred for herself had come rushing to the surface and would not be shoved back down.
So she screamed again. It held all the pain and sadness that Yachi had ignored.
The agony was like a torrential rain with no end. Yachi screamed until her lungs gave out. Until the pain reminded her she was alive. Until she remembered that what was inside her must always stay hidden.
She curled up on her shitty couch in a helpless heap, and felt the lust for destruction rise in her throat.
Yachi opened the messages from Kiyoko, still a string of numbers in her phone. Numbers Yachi had memorized.
She quickly saved her in her phone, took a deep breath and sent out a message.
12:19] to kiyoko: sorry i was busy
12:19] to kiyoko: where do u want to meet?
Yachi knew how this story should go. Strange meeting, perfect relationship, happy ending. But those stories did not account for girls like Yachi, they didn't account for the black sheep, the mentally ill, the real people, who did selfish things just to feel something. Those stories didn't account for the problematic reality of life.
Yachi would do anything to feel alive at that moment. She would take Kiyoko and use her up and drain her dry just for her own gain.
And Kiyoko would become yet another tally mark of pain.
Yachi's phone buzzed.
12:21] from kiyoko: I know a place
§
Within two hours Yachi had changed her mind about Kiyoko. She'd actually changed her mind about five times. On one hand she wanted a cheap thrill, a relationship destined to burn bright and fast. On the other hand, she knew she couldn't just use people like that for her own emotional benefit.
What do I care about other people? she thought. A lot, actually, she answered herself. However, she had already made the coffee date with Kiyoko.
Yachi was frustrated with herself. How many times did she have to repeat this cycle? This cycle of her using people and them getting sick of it and leaving. This cycle of wreaking absolute destruction and havoc. How many times did she have to repeat ruining her own life? She had done it over and over again. The more people who cared about her the more she spiraled out of control. She didn't understand it; and she was sick of it. She had been sick of it since the beginning, and she was sick of it still. She was sick of hurting people and sick of people hurting her.
Sick, sick, sick. Yachi was sick, she knew it. Something twisted lived inside her. Something she couldn't understand and refused to accept. She desperately wanted to change, she wanted to change into who she knew she should be, though she didn't know who that was. It shouldn't have been that hard. Yachi changed all the time. She wore personalities like masks, adorned false traits like jewelry, she changed and changed, but every time she did so it felt like a lie. Maybe she was a lie. Not a person but a living breathing lie. She cut away truth and sowed painful lies.
Maybe that's what was wrong with Yachi. Maybe she had cut away so much of herself that there was nothing left but the facade she put up. People had told her what to be and she had cut off the parts they didn't like, until everything was gone.
Part of her was sad about this thought. The other part thought she deserved it.
Yachi made a decision in that moment. She was going to restore the lost pieces of herself. She was going to fix what was broken until she was satisfied.
However, she made this decision often, and it never lasted.
§
Yachi was meeting Kiyoko at her day job at a coffee shop, which was actually close to Yachi's apartment. She had spent the previous night awake agonizing over whether or not to cancel, or talk to her this once and never speak to her again.
The sad thing was that she did this every time, knowing it was a bad decision yet doing it anyways. She knew she would probably hurt Kiyoko – and herself – but nothing she did would change the outcome.
Just friends, she insisted at herself.
That was easy enough. She ruined friendships way less often than relationships.
Friends, she reassured herself. She took a deep breath, and walked out her apartment door.
Kiyoko's black hair was plaited in a tight braid. A leather jacket covered the majority of her tattoos. Her eyes were devoid of the incredibly impressive winged eyeliner that Yachi had seen her in before. She looked toned down in a way. Nonetheless Yachi still felt her heart quicken in the way it when she had first met her.
Kiyoko had homework sprawled out before her. Her eyes flitting back and forth across a textbook as her coffee grew cold beside her. Yachi sat down and cleared her throat.
"Hi," she chirped, then immediately regretted it.
"Hi," Kiyoko parroted, a smile spreading to her face.
"Uh, what are you working on?"
"Oh just biochem. Sorry, I didn't think you'd be here for a while," Kiyoko replied, placing her homework in her backpack which sat beside the table.
“Oh god, I’m sorry, you can keep working. I can come back later,” Yachi stammered.
“Oh no it’s fine! It’s not due for a while anyways.”
A silence stretched out between them.
Yachi stared at her hands folded in her lap and tried to think of something to say, when Kiyoko said something.
"So, do you go to college?"
"Ah, no. The school scene isn't really for me. Actually, no scene is really for me," she laughed sheepishly.
"Yeah," Kiyoko smiled, "I was always the science kid in my school."
"I actually tried tons of stuff, but I didn't really like any of it. I just got bored or tired, I guess."
God this is so awkward, Yachi's head was screaming as she struggled to keep herself calm.
The waitress came to ask for Yachi's order, giving a blessed pause in the conversation. She just ordered what she always ordered, a vanilla latte with four shots. The waitress left and the uncomfortable silence returned.
"What's your favorite color?" Kiyoko asked suddenly.
"Uh," Yachi blanked for a minute, "Blue."
"Mine's black," Kiyoko smiled and took a sip of her now cold coffee.
"Figures."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Kiyoko feigned offence but was grinning.
"I have a question for you, are you a goth or an emo?"
"What a ridiculous question," she said, pausing, "I'm a punk obviously."
Yachi let out a snort of laughter and Kiyoko grinned wider.
"Okay," Kiyoko said, "Favorite song?"
"Don't have one, you?"
"Same," Kiyoko seemed to relax a little as she stared out the window at the busy street, readying her next question. "Favorite animal?"
"Cat," Yachi said and she felt the anxious buzz slowly start to subside.
"Kea parrot."
Yachi, having no idea what that was other than the fact that it was probably a bird, tilted her head questioningly.
"It's a species of parrot."
"Well I could infer that," Yachi replied.
"You should look it up. They're really interesting."
Yachi just laughed a little at the absurdity of it all.
"I told you I was the science kid," Kiyoko protested, laughing herself.
Yachi stopped laughing and looked up at Kiyoko. They were both smiling.
"Favorite subject in school?" Kiyoko said, continuing with Yachi's interrogation.
"Study hall," Yachi held a deep hatred for school, and even study hall had been unbearable. The only things she liked doing were various clubs, but those didn't count as subjects. "I bet I can guess yours," she joked.
Kiyoko laughed.
The waitress brought out Yachi's latte, and the comfortable conversation continued. Morning faded into afternoon, and Yachi left the cafe with a warm feeling.
As she walked home she took out her phone and googled what a kea parrot was.
§
The next month was bliss. Yachi's first pointless conversation with Kiyoko quickly developed into a deep friendship. They sent each other messages when they couldn't sleep, texted continuously throughout the day, and met whenever they could.
But they were hiding something from each other. Yachi knew it. She could see the emptiness in Kiyoko's eyes on some days. When Yachi asked what was wrong Kiyoko smiled and said nothing, but her eyes still looked dead.
Yachi certainly knew what she was hiding from Kiyoko. Kiyoko was not privy to her screaming fits, her breakdowns, her fierce and destructive anger. They only got to see the good parts of each other.
Yachi didn't want to know the rest. Because if Kiyoko devolved any information to her, Yachi would have to return the favor. Yachi didn't want anyone to know her. Actually, that wasn't true, she flip-flopped on that matter daily. On one hand she knew she needed help, on the other, when people feel for Yachi, they feel too much. Yachi knew she was too much. There was too much emotion inside her, too much pain. Yachi was everything to lose and nothing to gain. When people loved her, they got tired. Tired of the mood swings, tired of the lies, tired of feeling that something was missing; not quite right.
Nobody, not a single soul, knew the pain that resided in Yachi's mind, and still, they continuously left her. God only knows what would happen if she let go of her fake exterior, let the chaos out. Flooded the world with the infinite pain she contained inside herself. She had friends, but if they really knew her; they would probably leave too.
People left. But people didn’t just leave Yachi, they abandoned her. They fled from the weary house because they could not handle the rats inside. They didn't drift apart from Yachi, they wrenched themselves free.
Lucky them, Yachi thought, they get to be free of me. I don't even get to be free of me.
So yeah, Yachi didn't want anything to change between her and Kiyoko, she wanted to stay friends, just friends. She wanted to only know the shallow, surface stuff, the happy stuff, the laughter filled stuff, and she wanted Kiyoko only to know the same.
She didn't want anything to change.
But of course, it had to.
§
They had been friends for a little over a month when Kiyoko declared she wanted to have a sleepover.
"A sleepover?" Yachi asked, furrowing her brows.
"Every good friendship needs at least one sleepover," Kiyoko said, nodding almost wisely.
"Can we do it at your place?" Yachi remembered the recent hole she had put in the wall during her most recent breakdown. She had not yet found an item of furniture to cover it.
"Er," Kiyoko's face grew dark, "no."
"Oh. I guess we can do it at mine then."
"Sorry," Kiyoko laughed sheepishly, "mine's just a bit messy."
Yachi felt the "a bit messy" was a gross understatement, but she ignored it, after all, Kiyoko had the decency to ignore her lies.
"Okay, then," Yachi grinned at her.
"What time?" Kiyoko asked.
"Whatever time works for you."
"I just got off of work and I'm not working at the club tonight, so we could go over now?" she asked more than said.
Yachi glanced out the window, "Looks like it's gonna rain."
"So what?"
"Yeah, so what," Yachi smiled, feeling giddy.
§
Kiyoko rode her bike slowly along side Yachi as she walked. The sky turned grey and thunder crashed in the distance.
Yachi turned her face up to the sky and waited for the rain. It didn't take long, and soon it was pouring.
"Run!" Kiyoko shrieked and pedaled her bike faster.
Yachi started sprinting, she paused for a minute and held her hands up spinning around in the rain and laughing. The sidewalks were a busy bustle of umbrellas and people were staring, but for once in her life Yachi didn't fucking care. Kiyoko stopped on her bike and stared. Yachi looked at her: black hair wet with the rain, hood of her leather jacket flipped up, makeup smudged, and felt something rise up that hadn't been there before.
She shook her head and yelled, "That bike's not very pop punk," over the rain and Kiyoko laughed and started pedaling, Yachi was running to catch up. Her lungs ached; the only thing anchoring her to reality and keeping her from disappearing into the sky. Everything was a fast, happy blur, and soon they were at Yachi's front door, laughing uncontrollably as Yachi fumbled with her keys.
The door opened and Yachi collapsed on her couch, still laughing although she couldn't remember the reason.
The rest of the night was as blurry as the walk there. They played board games, and Yachi vaguely remembered watching Shrek on Netflix. Kiyoko had then insisted they watch something gay and they did but Yachi couldn't recall what. And around two in the morning they decided to get drunk on the bottle of vodka Yachi kept in her fridge.
They were halfway through it when Kiyoko opened the door to Yachi's bedroom and saw the gaping hole in the wall.
"What's that?" she said, pointing as though Yachi wouldn't know what she was talking about.
"A hole," Yachi deadpanned.
Kiyoko laughed and asked "How did it get there?"
"I kicked the wall," for some reason Yachi was laughing too.
They both laughed and fell down onto the bed, passing the bottle of vodka back and forth.
"That's enough," Kiyoko finally said, and set the vodka down on the nightstand next to the bed.
"Aw what," Yachi pouted.
"I refuse to get alcohol poisoning."
"That doesn't mean I can't," Yachi replied, reaching for the vodka.
Kiyoko grabbed the bottle and held it above her head, "You can't either."
"Pffft. Why not?"
"Because hospitals SUCK. That's why."
Yachi leaned over the bed, and grabbed her pack of cigarettes and a lighter from beneath her bed. She leaned back on the bed with Kiyoko and inhaled deeply.
"Hey pass me that," Kiyoko said, making a grabby motion with her hand that Yachi found so hysterical that she laughed so hard she started choking.
They passed the cigarette back and forth, until it was almost gone.
"Watcha doin?" Kiyoko asked Yachi.
"Waiting."
"Waiting for what?"
"The world to end."
Kiyoko frowned, "That's sad."
"I'm a sad person."
"Me too."
There was a minute of silence when Kiyoko spoke again, "Sometimes, I think that if no one spoke to me, I'd never speak again."
"I need too much attention to do that," Yachi replied, drawing out the "too".
They were silent for a moment.
"What are you hiding?" Kiyoko murmured, barely audible.
"Myself."
"Why are you hiding?"
"Because no one looks for me," Yachi said, turning to face Kiyoko.
"I'm looking," she whispered.
"No you're not."
"I'll start."
Yachi turned her gaze back to the ceiling, "What if I don't wanna be found?"
"I think you do."
"I think I do too."
They sat in silence for a few moments, Yachi got out another cigarette and passed it to Kiyoko.
"Yachi?" her voice was quiet.
"Yeah?" Yachi replied, just as quiet.
"Why did you kick a hole in the wall?"
"Because I was angry. Because I'm waiting for the world to end and it's taking too fucking long," she replied softly, but there was force behind her words.
Kiyoko said something but Yachi didn't hear her.
"What?"
"I said I'll wait with you."
"Thank you," Yachi said so faintly she might as well have been mouthing it.
Kiyoko reached out and grabbed Yachi's hand and held it, which wasn't strange because they were drunk.
Before Yachi fell asleep she had the thought that she wanted to kiss Kiyoko.
Which was strange because they were just friends. Which is what she wanted. Because if they were more than friends, Yachi would inevitably fuck it up. Strange, that hadn't stopped her before.
Strange.
§
Yachi woke up next to Kiyoko with a killer hangover. She prodded Kiyoko until she woke up and then stated she was going to make breakfast. Breakfast was just cereal but she brought a bowl in for Kiyoko and they ate it in bed.
They cracked jokes and laughed as usual, but something felt different between them. Not bad different, but something had changed and they both knew it.
It felt like they weren't hiding anymore, at least not as much.
Yachi wasn't sure if she liked it or not.
§
It had been about a week since that night when Kiyoko called Yachi.
It was twelve in the morning.
She knew something was wrong with the first shuddering breath Kiyoko took.
"C-Can you come over?" Her voice sounded weak and tinny, and Yachi could hear the quiet, ragged breath that revealed when someone was crying.
"Where?" Yachi said, her voice soft, but worried.
Kiyoko rattled off the address and immediately hung up. Yachi considered calling Hinata to have him give her a ride, but decided she could walk.
She half-walked-half ran to the address Kiyoko had given her. When she arrived she rapped forcefully on the door.
Kiyoko answered the door, her eyes red from crying, her hair looked as though she had been trying to rip it out.
"What happened?"
Kiyoko started crying again and opened the door wider to reveal the dirtiest apartment Yachi had ever seen. There were plates and cups stacked high in the sink, various abandoned meals around the living room, trash bags piled by the door, and clothes covered every square inch of floor surface.
"I-I tried to clean it because," Kiyoko sobbed quietly, "My roommates coming home in two days but I," she paused and took a deep breath, "I can't fucking do it," she finished.
"I can help," Yachi replied.
"I don't know how it got so out of hand," she cried into her hands and collapsed onto the floor, bringing her knees up to her chest holding her head in her hands, violently pulling at her hair.
Yachi knelt down next to her and wrapped her arms around her, "It's gonna be okay," she murmured softly into Kiyoko's hair.
"I don't know why I can't do it I just can't ," she sobbed, sad and broken. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry..."
"I can help," Yachi repeated. "How about we break it up into pieces so it's easier? You start with the dishes and I'll pick up all the clothes."
Kiyoko nodded. Yachi stood up and helped Kiyoko to her feet.
It took them all night and then some to clean the apartment. It was around eight in the morning when they finally finished.
"When do you have to go to work?"
"Not until nine. I don't work at the cafe on weekends."
"You wanna do something then?"
"Yeah that sounds good," Kiyoko said, rubbing at her eyes, still red from crying.
"Coffee?"
"Yeah," Kiyoko paused then tackled Yachi in a tight hug. "Thank you," she said whispered.
"You're welcome," Yachi whispered back.
They went out to get coffee but Kiyoko insisted giving Yachi a ride around the parking lot on her handlebars. They laughed and laughed and just like that the painful night was forgotten.
§
For some unfathomable reason Kiyoko started speaking less and less to Yachi. Returned texts were a miracle, and whenever she called, Kiyko would create an obvious excuse to get out of any plans Yachi was trying to make.
Yachi was sad about this fact. Sadder than she should be honestly. After all she'd only known Kiyoko for two months and she had plenty of other friends to hang out with.
But she missed Kiyoko. She felt a pang of sadness every time she glanced at her phone and no silly text was awaiting her. She missed being around her, missed the sound of her laugh. Missed the glint in her eyes and the joy in her voice. She missed everything about her, even the bad stuff. She missed her quiet anger and the way she swore too much. She missed everything. She wanted her to be happy but how the hell could she ensure that when Kiyoko wouldn't even talk to her.
She missed feeling like someone cared about her, knew her, even if she only knew a little bit.
But then again maybe Kiyoko never had cared. Maybe she got sick of Yachi. Maybe Yachi had been too much for Kiyoko as she had been for everyone else.
But god , she had felt different around Kiyoko, felt more real, happier. She felt like someone understood . Finally got how Yachi's brain didn't work quite right but were willing to give a shit anyways. Kiyoko didn't alleviate the pain, but she took away the taboo that came with it. Yachi had felt so normal, even when she was kicking through wall for a third time. She hadn't felt like a monstrosity, or an abnormality. Because Kiyoko was like her too.
Then again maybe Yachi was delusional, maybe she cared about a person who had never given a fuck in the first place.
She decided to stop trying to contact her.
§
It had been almost a month and she hadn't spoken a single word to Kiyoko. It had been almost a month and the frail grip Yachi had on happiness was slipping.
She was collapsed on the floor crying, as she had been for over two hours. That old horrid feeling had returned, the feeling that something was broken deep inside her. That she was just a monster with human skin.
You're fucking disgusting, no wonder she doesn't even talk to you.
Pathetic excuse for a human.
Yachi cried harder with each passing thought.
You're not real! her brain screamed at her, and she felt like it was true. Maybe she was just a figment of her own distressed imagination. Her entire personality based around what she thought she should be. Maybe she was nothing but a persona she had created.
The thought made her dizzy, unsure, and angry. She felt a scream building in her throat and let it rip out, and for a moment it silenced the thoughts that buzzed so violently inside her skull it was as though she could hear them. But inevitably, they came back, so she screamed again.
She screamed so she wouldn't have to think, she screamed to block out her own mind with deafening noise. She didn't want to think, didn't want to feel, she just wanted to scream.
But it wasn't enough, the thoughts came back louder, and angrier. So she pulled herself off the floor and punched the wall until she could feel nothing but the pain in her hand and the slowly crumbling wall.
It was useless. Her head was screaming now, and she had too much of a headache to do anything but sit helplessly on the floor.
Yachi was tired, she wanted it all to be over. She just wanted to go to sleep, but her mind was being too loud. God how she wanted to sleep.
She slumped over with her back against the wall. She was so, so tired. Tired of being herself, tired of being here, tired of trying. She was tired of not having a niche, not fitting anywhere. She was tired of destroying herself and the world around her.
She had to know something before she gave up, before she slipped once again into the daze that always came after nights like these. The months on end when she lived only off string cheese, didn't leave her apartment, and didn't talk to anyone.
She called Kiyoko.
She picked up on the first ring, "Yachi?"
"Do you hate me?" Yachi asked, voice shaking.
"What?"
"Do you hate me? Because I can see why you would."
"No? Are you okay?" Kiyoko replied, concern filling her voice.
"Am I ever?" Yachi half laughed half sobbed.
"I'm coming over."
"Don't. Don't fucking come over," Yachi pleaded.
The line beeped.
§
It was ten when Kiyoko inevitably arrived.
Yachi didn't get up to answer the door, it was unlocked anyways. The door opened silently and Yachi didn't even react, she was tired.
"Yachi," Kiyoko said, "what's wrong."
"Fuck if I know."
"You can tell me."
"I hate myself, and so does everyone else. Simple as that," Yachi spat bitterly.
Kiyoko slid down the wall to sit next to Yachi, "I don't hate you."
"Then why didn't you respond to anything I sent you? You got sick of me just admit it."
"I didn't respond because I didn't know what to do."
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"I like you," she said quietly.
Yachi's elevated heart rate sped up even more. All she could do was stare dumbfoundedly at Kiyoko. And suddenly Kiyoko was kissing her, and Yachi was kissing her back.
It all came flooding back: all the nights spent together, all the early mornings, every cup of coffee, every laugh, every moment came flooding back to Yachi and all she could feel was joy.
But then she remembered what else had happened, Kiyoko's filthy apartment, the whole in Yachi's wall. All the laughter with undertones of pain.
She kept kissing her for a while, trying to forget how much pain the two of them were in, how unstable they were, how turbulent a relationship would be.
But she couldn't forget. So she pulled away.
"We can't do this," she murmured to Kiyoko. She stared into Kiyoko's near black eyes, which slowly filled with confusion.
"Why not?"
"I'm not ready for a relationship yet. I'm just..." Yachi trailed off, "Unstable."
"What?"
"Kiyoko if we end up dating we're just gonna hurt each other. And... I feel like if you know who I am you'll realize I'm a bit too fucked up to be lovable."
"I already do know you," Kiyoko seemed almost angry.
"You really don't," Yachi said softly.
"I just don't understand," Kiyoko said forcefully.
"Kiyoko, I just can't. I fuck up every relationship I'm in and I really don't wanna do that with you. I just wanna make sure I'm okay before we start anything."
Kiyoko wordlessly got up from the floor, and walked towards the door.
"Forget it," she said, slamming the apartment door behind her.
§
Yachi got countless calls from Kiyoko, voicemails of her apologizing. Honestly, Yachi had never been angry at her.
But she'd been told to forget it so she would.
§
It had been over a year since Yachi had spoken to Kiyoko. Kiyoko had called her for months, but eventually stopped trying.
After that night she decided she needed help and started seeing the same therapist Kageyama went to. They put her on a few medications and said that she should start going to therapy weekly, so she did.
She had all but forgotten about Kiyoko.
But she couldn't forget, and she probably never would.
She had been playing Mario Kart at Kageyama's and Hinata's apartment when the subject of Kiyoko came up.
"How the fuck are you so good at Rainbow Road?" Hinata said as she finished second lap in first. Kageyama was still fuming silently at her for shoving him off.
"It's cuz I'm gay," she deadpanned.
"Literally everyone here is gay."
"I'm the gayest."
"Untrue," Kageyama spoke up, "You don't even have a girlfriend."
"Yeah but she's got that whole unresolved shit with that punk girl she's in love with. That's pretty gay," Hinata replied, coming to her defence. Kageyama nodded in agreement.
"I am not in love with her. I haven't even seen her in a year."
"Yeah but you want to."
Yachi thought about it for a moment, "Yeah I guess I do."
"What's stopping you?" Kageyama asked.
Yachi wondered about this, "Nothing I guess," she said, then shoved Kageyama off the road again.
§
Yachi got back to her apartment, grabbed her jacket, and immediately left again, walking a route she knew by heart.
When she got to Kiyoko's apartment it was already eleven and the night sky was filled with glinting stars.
She probably doesn't even live here anymore. She probably doesn't want to see you, Yachi thought yet knocked on the door anyways.
A girl with bobbed, dyed blonde and frankly terrifying eye makeup answered the door.
"Er, I'm looking for Kiyoko. Uh, I mean Shimizu,"
"Kiyoko! Someone's here for you," The girl yelled back into the apartment. There was a soft noise of footsteps and then Kiyoko was at the door. She didn't even seem surprised to see Yachi, or if she was she hid it well.
"Thanks, Saeko," she turned to Yachi. "Let's go outside."
Dumbfounded, Yachi followed Kiyoko out of the building. They sat down on the porch swing that was there for some reason and Kiyoko stared up at the stars.
"Why are you here?"she finally said.
"Uh. I guess I just really missed you."
"I thought you were angry at me."
"I never really was."
"Then why didn't you ever answer my calls?" Kiyoko seemed sad.
"You told me to forget it, so I did."
Kiyoko winced, "Until now," she said.
"Until now."
"Why are you here?" Kiyoko repeated.
Yachi sighed, "We just left things really unresolved so I wanted to see you."
"Yeah, me too."
"I'm in a better place now," Yachi offered.
"I guess I am too."
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
"Listen, I really, really liked you. But I don't feel the same as I did back then, I mean, I still like you, but I feel like I need to move on. But..." Yachi trailed off, "I really don't want to."
"Me neither. But we need to."
Yachi looked at Kiyoko and felt a sad, nostalgic sort of hope.
"You know, I thought we missed our window of opportunity, but I don't think there ever was a window. I think it was just a hole I kicked in the wall."
Kiyoko laughed and it was a beautiful sound Yachi would probably never hear again.
Yachi kissed Kiyoko for the second time in her life.
Yachi pulled away and sighed, "I loved you. I really did, and I think I still do. But we've got to move on if we ever want to get over how we were back then."
"I don't want to," Kiyoko sounded wistful and sad. Yachi kissed her again, and everything was up in the air. The cards were on the table, and the game was about to end.
Yachi stood up, "See you around," she said.
"Maybe someday," Kiyoko called out.
"Yeah, maybe," she replied, looking up at the stars.
Yachi turned and walked away from her painful past and into her hopeful future.
end.