Work Text:
Sometimes Yahaba feels that the world hates him just as much as he hates himself. He doesn’t even bother to get out of bed until he’s forced to. Whether it be the clock so he can get to school at a less than decent time, or a physical force, he lays there until he’s forced to get up. He enjoys the time he gets to spend with Watari and Kyoutani—it makes him genuinely happy. Watari’s horrible jokes and energy to keep the conversation going. The playful bickering between himself and Kyoutani. He wishes he could keep that feeling forever.
But some days, there are days where Yahaba feels like a total fuck up. Days he’ll say something and not get the positive reaction he wants. It’ll stick to his mind all day.
‘Do they hate me?’
‘Did I overstep?’
‘Is it because I talk too much?’
‘Are they finally tired of me?’
His mind races, and on those days, he wants nothing more than to sit in a corner on the floor and die.
“I can’t go today, my mom just doesn’t want me going out.” Yahaba lied over the phone. He hated flaking out, but today was one of those days where he he felt like a fuck up. Either Watari wasn’t up for conversation during lunch, or Yahaba said something Watari didn’t like, he would never know (unless he asked but why would he do that) and had to suffer with the thought eating him inside out. That definitely didn’t help his already awful mood. “We can do it another time, maybe?”
“Yeah, that sounds cool! Just tell me when. My schedule is always open honestly, it’s not like I do anything.” Watari laughed over the phone. His laugh always made Yahaba smile.
“Thanks, Shinji, I’m sorry this keeps happening...”
“Nono, no you’re cool. I get it—sorta—strict parents suck. If you want, we can bring you some food when we’re done?”
“Oh, you don’t have to. Thanks though.” The call ended. He threw his phone to the other side of his bed and groaned.
He hated doing this, but he also hated the idea of being out of his room longer than he had to be. His room was a safe space, but a depression hole at the same time. He felt like he had nowhere else to go. It was confusing how he felt. Sometimes it would get so bad that his head would physically ache. He’d squeeze the sides of his head with his hands, smack his forehead with a school binder, scream into a pillow, anything to get rid of it. It would never work.
It had been three hours since that call, and Yahaba hadn’t moved from his bed in that timeframe. He clutched a pillow, occasionally wiping snot or tears, or both at the same time into it. He couldn’t tell what was what anymore, and he couldn’t care less either.
It was...a rough three hours. From random bursts of anger at himself, to occasionally small sob he’d have. His head felt like it was gonna explode from all this emotion at one. The urge to hit his face with a school binder grew, thinking some form of physical pain would help.
There was a knock on his door.
“Come in.” He tried not to sound like he was crying, it sorta sounded good.
He wondered if it was his mom checking on him, or telling him dinner was ready—it was getting around that time anyway. The door opened oddly slowly, and wasn’t his mom.
It was Kyoutani. Yahaba quickly sat up, throwing the pillow he was clutching to the side. His face red from embarrassment—and uh, crying. It wasn’t the first time Kyoutani had visited him, but it was still rare for him to come over without warning. Yahaba did appreciate the check ups though.
Kyoutani was the only one he told about this. It wasn’t on purpose, it just slipped out—he was mad Yahaba kept flaking out on things they and Watari were supposed to do together, and when he went to confront, a whole new view was opened to him that day.
Both hands were filled, one with snacks and the other with some water. Yahaba fiddled with his own hands “I-I told Shinji you guys didn’t have to bring me anything...”
“Yeah, well this is the...what, sixth? Sixth time you’ve fuckin’ weaseled out, thought I should check on you.
Think fast.” Kyoutani tossed a bag at Yahaba. He didn’t catch it, but he was close. It was a bright red bag. He picked the food up from off the ground, and smiled. It was a bag of KitKats, one of his favorite candies.
“Oooh, a big bag this time. Is this so you can steal some without feeling bad? How generous.” Yahaba teased.
“Aye, I’ll take that shit back and eat it myself.” He sat on the bed next to Yahaba, and for a second, Yahaba held his eyes on the stupid, crooked grin Kyoutani had. It made him smile too.
They sat in silence for a bit, but it wasn’t bad silence. It was comforting to Yahaba. It was comforting to know that he cared, that he didn’t hate Yahaba for being like this. That he wanted him to be okay. Of course, all of his friends would want him to be okay, but for some reason, his head wouldn’t let him believe it most of the time.
Kyoutani broke the silence, but it was different then usual. “I, Uhm...I know how it feels to think that the world hates you...” He was soft spoken. Yahaba didn’t look at him, but he was surprised by Kyoutani’s sudden openness. “Maybe not like you, but...I kinda relate? I don’t know, it’s a fuckin’ shitty feeling though...”
He put a hand on Yahaba’s shoulder and rubbed it—or tried to. It was an awkward gesture, you could tell he was out of his comfort zone. He was trying at least. “I’m not tryna make this like...fuckin’ weird or anything...just wanted to make sure you were okay. Thought it was relevant from last time you told me I guess.”
Yahaba didn’t say anything, he sat still for a moment. He was shaking, and his face burned trying to hold back tears. Kyoutani may never understand exactly how Yahaba felt, nobody probably would—he was just horrible at explaining his feelings—but hearing that, hearing that Kyoutani was trying to relate and understand made him want to burst into a sob. He wasn’t trying to fix him right away, or give him advice on what to do. Yahaba didn’t need any of that, he only needed what Kyoutani just did.
Yahaba threw the bag of candy aside and squeezed Kyoutani. He squeezed and sobbed, letting the rest of his bottled up emotions onto his shoulder. Kyoutani already was bad with affection, but he tried his best. Holding Yahaba lightly, rubbing his back. He was gentle, which would be taken as a surprise if you didn’t know him that well. But it wasn’t abnormal for him to express softness towards his close friends. Yahaba sat up after a bit to look at him, wiping off his shoulder.
“Sorry...didn’t mean to get snot on you.” He rubbed his tears to see.
Kyoutani snorted a little “I don’t care, do what you gotta do I guess.” He scanned around for a tissue box so Yahaba didn’t have to use his shirt.
“Thank you.” Yahaba sniffled out quietly. Neither of them found tissues, so Yahaba had to refrain from being gross and snotting in his shirt sleeve. “It... means a lot to me, when you come over and all that...” he played with his hands again, embarrassed to look at Kyoutani again after that. Yahaba didn’t like making eye contact when he was upset anyways.
Kyoutani grabbed the back of KitKats that were thrown to the side and opened them. He handed one to Yahaba. “It’s a shitty thing, you shouldn’t have to go through it alone.”