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Summary
The sea was quiet, waves lapping softly against the craggy rocks far below from where Ushijima stood. Behind him stood a tall lighthouse, his home for the past 15 years. The light rotated above him and swept over the dark ocean, as Ushijima hugged his knitted sweater around his bulky frame and clutched at the mug filled with soup he’d made a few days ago and was still eating off of. He loved the salty night air, loved standing just at the edge of the cliff his lighthouse sat on and staring into the wide and open nothingness that was the ocean. It scared him; it reminded him why he did his job. Ushijima did not love the ocean, but he loved his tall tower on the cliff, his beacon of hope and life to those out on the sea. He sighed wearily into the cool air and listened with eyes closed, the wind biting at his cheeks.
Slowly the wind began to shift, carrying with it a sound that only the ocean could make, and Wakatoshi turned on his heels and headed back inside. His parents had raised him to be deeply superstitious of the open water, and life had thought him they hadn’t been incorrect in doing so.Series
- Part 13 of UshiHina Mini (And Not So Mini) Fics