Archive of Our Own ^beta

“L/N!” Your classmates called, seeing the pathetic, dejected slob by the window that was you. “Come on, the bell just rang! Aren’t you coming?” They were only asking out of sympathy and pity for you, you thought. 

A forced smile dragged itself onto your lips as you made your tone as chirpy as you could without wanting to gag at the sound of your own voice. “Nah, I’m fine!” Your eyes crinkled into a smile, your hand making a waving motion. “You guys go ahead.” 

I feel like I’ve been lacking 

You bit your lip, thinking about the bold ‘A’ on the front of your exam papers. The day your report card came back was a nightmare come alive. There was only one A* in sight, and your parents had rubbed that fact into the open wound of your self-doubt, spicing the whole ordeal with a little salt and vinegar. 

Crying too many tears 

The number of times you had let your stress overwhelm you in a wave of sadness was uncountable- Your emotions poured and poured out of you until you were only a blank, empty husk of a human being with one purpose: To score the best results you could and make your parents proud.

Everyone seemed to say it was so great 

“I can’t wait to graduate!” One of your classmates told you excitedly. Mentally, you shook your head with a tired sigh- University would only bring around a heavier bulk of work and stress, and god you just wanted everything to be over. 

“Yeah, same.” You smiled weakly. 

But did I miss out, was it a huge mistake 

I can’t help the fact I liked to be alone 

“L/N’s always by herself.” Whispers of your classmates drifted across the room even though they thought they were being quiet. “She’s kind of little weird, too...” 

It might seem kinda sad, but that’s just what I seem to know 

“Honey, the library’s closing.” The librarian told you kindly, breaking the focus you had drowned yourself in for the past hour. A collection of reference books circled the table for four that only you were occupying, with your notebook sitting right in the centre of the semi-circle. “Maybe start packing up?” 

“Ah, sorry.” You mumbled, tucking your face downwards, too shy to look into the eyes that you knew would be filled with pity and sympathy. “I’ll be gone in a minute.” 

I tend to handle things usually by myself 

“L/N, the counselor wants to see you.” One of the male students told you after having a two-minute long argument with his friends about who needed to break the news to you. 

“Okay.” You responded softly, picking yourself up and tugging your hoodie down so it covered your face. The laughter of the student’s other male friends clouded your thoughts, suffocating you as you hurried out of the classroom. 

“You’ve been rather down lately, is there anything going on at home?” The couselor asked you kindly. You wanted to tell her, but you doubted she could do much. Flashes of your parents’ judgemental fingers jabbing at you and their frustrated yells of ‘Why didn’t you do better?’ flipped through your mind like the glitching frames of an old movie, a headache starting to brew in your brain. 

And I can’t ever seem to try and ask for help 

“I...” You murmured, shaking your head strongly. “No, I’m fine.” The weak smile you managed didn’t convince the counselor at all, but she let you go anyways, her eyes watching your retreating back as you darted back to your class, closing the door politely behind you. 

I’m sitting here crying in my prom dress 

Days had trickled on until the school year was nearly over, with only one event left: Prom. The music and lights were overwhelming you, so like a scared animal, you huddled up and hid in the darkest corner you could find- The spot under the stairs where the janitors kept their equipment. 

I’d be the prom queen if crying was a contest 

Tears streamed readily down your cheeks, your cries muffled by the fact you had forced your hand into your mouth. You didn’t even know why you were crying- You just knew that you were overwhelmed, and you didn’t know why every student was forced to attend the event. Ever since high school started, your emotions gained the upper hand and the ability to overpower you at any given time. 

Makeup is running down 

Feelings are all around 

“Do you hear that?” Came the faraway voice of a boy. Your breath caught as you tried to keep as quiet as possible- The last thing you wanted was someone seeing you in your ever-so-pathetic state. 

How did I get here 

“I can’t hear anything over the music.” His friend replied dryly, and for once you were grateful towards the monstrosity that was being spit out from the speakers. 

“Guess it was nothing then.” 

I need to know 

“Tsukishima, Yamaguchi!” You froze at the familiar voice. You recognised the pitch and the frequency of the words- They belonged to a blonde that topped your class- Yachi Hitoka. The image of perfect: She had the best grades, was surrounded by a bunch of her friends from the volleyball club that she was the manager of, and she was talented at drawing. “Why are you two lingering so close to the girls’ toilet?” 

You could picture her, a suspicious gaze on the two boys and a hand on her hip. Yachi Hitoka would probably be blessed for the rest of the next five years from how much you were praying and thanking her in your head. 

The two boys defended themselves, their footsteps decreasing in closeness until you were comfortable enough to breathe again. 

“Hey?” You jumped at Yachi’s voice, closer now than when she was talking to the boys. “They’re gone now, I asked them to go away.” 

The next thing you knew was Yachi’s light brown eyes staring into your swollen, tear-stained ones. She offered you a small smile, bunching up her sparkly silver dress as she squatted down to meet you at eye-level. 

“Are you okay?” She asked you softly, her eyes twinkling in genuine concern. “Um, if you want me to leave, I can, and I’ll tell everyone to stay away from here, too... But do you want to talk?” 

A particularly loud hiccup startled the blonde, your face flushing in embarrassment as Yachi laughed. You scooched over to the side a little, making space for her among the bottles of detergents and the empty dustpans. She smiled, crawling into the space under the stairs with you, the silence filled with your sniffles and occasional hiccups. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked you gently. 

You were quiet for a bit until you let the words out, slipping in between your sniffles and hiccups. “I guess I maybe had a couple expectations.” You confessed quietly. “Thought I’d get to dance, but no I didn’t.”

“That’s terrible!” Yachi gasped, looking rather disappointed at the school’s population of third years- At least two hundred of them, and no one asked you to dance? 

“It’s okay. I didn’t think anyone would ask me, anyway.” You mumbled. For the first half of the event, you were slinking as close to the walls as you could, the cold air-conditioner air grabbing at your shoulders. “I just... Feel disappointed, that’s all. And it’s not even like I’d dare to stand in the middle of the dance floor, anyway.” 

I guess I thought that prom was gonna be fun 

Yachi frowned slightly. “You definitely need to dance at least once tonight.” 

“I can’t go out like this.” You murmured softly, gesturing to the mess on your face that you didn’t need a mirror to know that you had made. “My sister spent an hour putting in on for me.” Your sister had always been the one who understood the kind of stress you were under- She was once in your place after all. The hour before prom started was spent in your sister’s room as she insisted that you had to at least enjoy the last day of your high school life. 

“It’s alright, I have a makeup bag with me. Let’s go clean you up in the bathroom, okay?” She took you hand with a soft smile, coaxing you out of the space under the stairs. The two of you darted into the bathroom, trying not to get seen, and by the time you were standing in front of the toilet sinks, you were giggling. 

“Finally!” Yachi had worked magic on your face, clearing up the smudged makeup with some wet tissues. After that, the blonde angel had reapplied and fixed you up with the tools that you didn’t even know the name of from her makeup bag. At this point, Yachi had enough blessings and prayers from you to last her thirty years. “You look so pretty!” She smiled, giving you a hand mirror to take. 

The wet splotches of tears were gone, although your eyes were still a little swollen from all the crying. Your eyes were highlighted with a baby blue, and your cheeks were dusted with the slightest hint of the dawn. 

“Thank you.” You mumbled shyly. The two of you were sitting on the bathroom floor, facing each other with Yachi’s makeup bag next to you. “Um, but... I still don’t dare to go out. The music’s too... Loud.” 

But now I’m sitting on the floor and all I wanna do is run 

“That’s okay,” The blonde beamed at you, pulling you up and patting your skirt down. “We can go outside!” Before you could register what she meant, she was tugging you along with her, the both of you running until you were out of the building, watched by the multiple stars of Miyagi’s night sky. 

Yachi fidgeted with her phone, swiping through her playlist until she found the song she wanted. “Here we go! Take my hand.” 

“O... Okay?” 

You were a little stiff at the beginning, your hands in Yachi’s and your feet rather lost. But as Yachi laughed under the darkness of the 8pm sky, you smiled, too, the both of you dancing- No, stumbling across the grass outside the main building. The song circled the both of you, the melody running between your legs and your arms and your laughter filling the air until the tears running down your cheeks were nothing but a distant memory of what was five minutes ago. 

“That was fun.” Yachi smiled, a little breathless as the song eventually ended, her hands still holding yours. 

“I got to dance.” You mumbled quietly, looking rather amazed at the whole situation. “I got to dance.” 

The blonde interlaced your fingers, smiling up at you with a glint of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on in her eyes. “Yeah, you did.” 

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