Work Text:
You never really did speak much, did you?
People said I was crazy, falling for someone who would usually only speak when spoken to. Although that was only the case with strangers or those you weren't close with, it was okay. I loved talking, and you loved listening.
And despite your lack of words, your actions always showed me a thousand of them.
Remembering how I liked my coffee, bringing it to me from the cafe you pass during your morning runs. You'd describe my order as "warm and sweet, just like you, my love".
Remembering how you once mentioned starting a little herb garden on our windowsill because you knew how I loved to cook with fresh ingredients. What I loved most about cooking with fresh ingredients, was how the corners of your mouth stretched up into the most heartwarming smile while you complimented whatever new recipe I decided to try that evening.
Remembering when you saw my shoelaces dragging against the floor as we walked around the neighborhood. You would bend down to my feet, look up at me so I would continue with whatever I was babbling on about just a second ago, and you'd tie up my shoelaces.
And despite your lack of words, you always managed to fill the silence in our small apartment.
You would always hum. Whether it be a song we heard on the radio while you drove us home, or one your mother would sing to you as a child, now a distant memory.
I'd only hum to you on rare occasions. I hummed that gentle lullaby to you whenever the discourses of your childhood kept you up at night. I was more than happy to hold you for a change, as I felt your warm breath evening out against my neck as you were lulled to sleep. You were never a nuisance to me, because it shouldn't be a bother for wanting your partner to comfort you when you needed it most.
Even after a petty argument, you would hum. Maybe it calmed you down. Yet it still never failed to grind my gears even further. If I had known that you'd leave, I would've nurtured those hums of yours, analyzing them thoroughly. So thoroughly, that the deep baritone of your voice would be ingrained in my mind forever. Making sure that I knew what kind of humming meant you were excited or stressed, so that I could ask you what the big news was, or comfort you and tell you that everything will be okay now that we have each other.
I would have remembered what your hums were like when you were content, so that I could harmonize with you. Maybe you needed someone who's voice was at a better register than mine, a voice that blended more seamlessly with yours.
Still, you would never let me fall asleep upset, so you stopped humming for a little while. You would talk out the problem with me and apologize. Looking back at it, I was usually in the wrong.
You could spend the entire evening softly humming gentle tunes in my ears before we succumb to a deep sleep, yet still mutter a simple "I love you" before drifting off.
So why was it so easy for you?
To get up and leave like that?
They say someone who's in love doesn't do that. You cant just go to sleep one day, completely and utterly infatuated, and wake up the next bothered by a former loves presence beside you.
It fades slowly, doesn't it? Shouldn't it?
So how come every day up until you told me about having to go, you would mutter an "I love you" into my ear before bed, and another before waking up for your run and picking up our routine coffee?
Anyone could see that these 'I love you's were always genuine, no doubt in my mind that they were.
Same with your smiles. You'd never smile unless you were actually happy.
When I said yes to moving into this dingy apartment, when I washed your jersey when you forgot to the night before, whenever I said 'I love you~' and babbled on about how proud I was of you while I was tipsy from losing track of my beer consumption watching one of your long distance matches from home.
The distance most likely drew us apart.
However, every time we reunited, it was as though nothing had changed. Knowing how you, Ushijima Wakatoshi, were so logical about everything, you probably figured that separating was the easiest way to continue your career with less hurt to both parties.
Your transparency was something I was envious of. And it only confuses me further to this day.
But maybe you didn't smile enough when you were around me. Maybe I didn't make you happy enough for you to show me one of those heartwarming smiles of yours more often. Maybe you truly did love me, but not enough.
One thing I know for sure, is that I always tried my hardest. It had worked; for me at least, and it seemed to had worked for you as well.
No matter how much I overthink, I cant help but continue loving you.
No matter how much I think that if I managed to come with you on your insanely fast paced runs just so that we can get our coffee together,
actually started that herb garden with you because I knew you missed living in the countryside,
or even if I had tied your shoes every once in a while instead of just standing beside, staring off into space as you bent down and tied your own;
There might still be the possibility of me waking up to those gentle hums and tender 'I love you's.
Oh, how I wish I was more selfless sooner. I wish I could've done more for you before it was too late.
This overthinking. Pondering over every move I made after you left. The way I would walk, speak, or even think after you left was starting to anger me. Everything was wrong, I was doing something wrong.
I found myself humming more often too. Funny, isn't it? How something that used to irritate me to no end is something that comforts me now that I'm alone in this tiny apartment we used to share.
I've noticed that the bed has a permanent dip on the right side of it. Your body is big and strong and is something I crave to be held by during those lonely days of me drinking watery instant coffee, trying to cling onto every last memory I have of you, until there's nothing left.
I still watch your games and drink beer when I get the chance. The announcers voice and crowds cheering your name still echo from time to time in the middle of what used to be our living room.
I just wanted you to know that I think of you every day. And that not a day will ever pass by in which I don't.
Miss you, Toshi.