Work Text:
Josuke swiped his tongue across the pad of his thumb, sealing the pink envelope shut. He found trouble in trying to hold both a bouquet and a letter in his hands, the jitter in them not helping his predicament.
Crazy Diamond could hold it. It’s not like the stand would mind. He was asking plenty of it already, what’s a bit more?
Josuke reached into the bathroom for his hairspray, giving his pompadour a quick extra spray over. It was imperative that it must be perfect . His eyes lingered on the reflection in the mirror for a moment, skimming over the almost completely hidden bags under his eyes. His attention lingered a second longer on his ear and the small device in it. He could pretend it was some sort of bluetooth device, that there was someone on the other end whispering to him what to do, like in those action movies.
Of course, there was nobody there, it was just a simple hearing aid. Nobody on the other end. Any directions would have to come from himself. Josuke didn’t need them. He’d thought over his plan plenty of times. He could do this on his own.
His stand met him outside the bathroom door, bouquet in hand and giving a thumbs up to Josuke. He hadn’t summoned it, Crazy Diamond had done that itself. It seemed to be doing that a lot these days.
Really, it was because of Crazy Diamond’s recently found independence that Josuke had any faith in his plan. An extra being egging him on was a great help, even if it was just a reflection of himself.
Josuke gave a small smile at his stand, grateful for the support. He swiped the card off the table and headed out the front door, locking it after him.
Out of his apartment. The sun felt just a bit too bright on his eyes, but that was the first baby step done. He was going to do it this time. He’d gone out and bought a gigantic bouquet of flowers with his feeble spending amount, taken likely too much thought into writing an honest letter, then even more into working out a mix between nice handwriting and legible handwriting. Really though, any amount of effort was used well on the gift. Anything for Okuyasu.
He means it this time too. No more wimping out for any of the dumb reasons he’s made to himself in times passed. Valentine’s was the prime time for confessions, and Josuke planned on taking full advantage of the opportunity. He felt less alone if he wasn’t the only one stumbling around with flowers and pink cards.
The butterflies in his stomach seemed to be shared with the world around him. Budding leaves on trees shook in anticipation as the sunlight danced through the branches to cast patterns on the sidewalk.
He paused at the blue house on the end of the block, relying on landmarks more than directions to find his destination. It wasn’t like he needed them at this point. Josuke had walked the same route more times than he could count. He knew the way like the back of his scarred hand.
The elderly woman who usually sat out on the front lawn was nowhere to be seen. Probably with her husband, Josuke supposed. He might catch her on the way back home. She knew full well how many times Josuke had snuck out in the night, or passed by during the day, to meet Okuyasu at the regular place.
The regular place where he was heading to confess. Okuyasu would be there. He was always there, not waiting for anything in particular, but present for however many times Josuke would stop by and say, hey. How awkward would it be if Josuke were to compile all of his feelings into words only for Okuyasu to not even be there to receive them? All his preparations to fall short on a lack of recipients?
Josuke continued down the sidewalk, attention trapped to his dark dress shoes clicking against the concrete just a pitch higher than he felt they should. While his hearing aid did a lot, it still wasn’t perfect. One of several things that haven’t been right since that summer.
Was he dressed alright? Maybe overdressing was a better risk than being underdressed for the occasion. He whipped out the ol’ prom suit for the occasion, purple fabric shifting to a saturated blue in the sun. It had shocked him that he'd found it. No point in being modest. His apartment was a mess. He had been even more stunned that the blazer still fit. Tomoko had made a good call bugging him into getting it a couple sizes too large at the time. It felt like the appropriate sort of attire, he’d known that the moment he saw the suit filed away in the closet. Josuke had long since learned to trust his gut.
And his gut had made an excellent choice, in his humble opinion. Violet blazer and a simple dress shirt underneath. Matching dress pants with peace signs and hearts embroidered on the pockets. Josuke prided himself on his craftsmanship. Even after months of disuse, he still managed to do well with a needle and thread.
He garnered several looks from passing civilians. It occurred that he may be a bit overdressed in comparison. The seemingly floating bouquet of flowers may have had something to do with the attention. He’d taken a fair amount of effort into the bouquet, looking up meanings to certain flowers. Unfortunately, he had failed to write any of them down at the flower shop and ended up picking the few he remembered with whatever else that looked neat. An effort that ultimately was never put to use, but effort nonetheless.
The meanings slipped his mind at the moment in light of rising anxiety, but Josuke felt certain in his choices of zinnias, roses in different shades of red, and an aloe flower. Personally, he didn’t think the shapes went well together. The pinks and red were nice, but the Aloe stuck out a bit much. The florist had given him a thumbs up at his choices, and he took their word for it.
Students passed him by in the sides of his vision. It seemed like a constant that they all had small bags or boxes of chocolates carried with them.
What would Okuyasu be wearing? His school uniform? He’d graduated a couple of years back but that uniform always seemed to be a favourite of his. Should Josuke have dressed to match? Did Tomoko even still have his uniform? Years old or not, he’d put a lot of effort into modifying it. He’d have to ask her along with a slew of other questions when he finally stopped putting off a phone call.
Lost in thought, Josuke stepped out to cross the street, only to be dragged back by an armoured hand on the neck of his jacket. A car zipped past a moment later. Wind smacked his face and tousled his hair.
Josuke let out a strangled breath. Christ. He really didn’t have the same amount of situational awareness that he used to. Josuke gave a cautious pat to his pompadour, relieved to find it close enough to acceptable condition. Not that Okuyasu would mind how he looked, hopefully.
Crazy Diamond floated into Josuke’s field of view, an unimpressed expression on its face. Josuke pushed it to the side, ignoring an indignant “Dora”. Yeah, yeah, he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. No need to be babied by his own stand.
Josuke stood on the curb for a second more, looking both ways before crossing. Without getting hit by a car, thanks for the concern, Crazy D .
Josuke stepped under a grand oak tree, another landmark in his route. It was budding new leaves ahead of the coming spring, an additional hope to combat the uncertainty he still had in his plans. Just past the final few blocks and he would be there. Proximity made his heartbeat race to match his stride, thumping against his ribs with each footfall.
The idea to abandon his plan altogether was tempting. His stand seemed to share his line of thinking and would float up behind him, bouquet in hand, and give him a jab in the shoulder blades. Not much, but an effective deterrent nonetheless. He wanted to do this, after all. It was the least Okuyasu deserved after so long of Josuke avoiding his feelings.
God, Okuyasu. The only one who was always fully on board with any silly idea of his. Who’s smile would light up the room. Who, when he blushed, made the scars on his face warm to light pink. Okuyasu, who held every emotion and thought in his eyes and hadn’t a dislikable bone in his body.
Sweet, incredible Okuyasu who would hear him out in his worst moments, regardless of his own strife. Who was book-dumb but the most empathetic person Josuke had ever met. Okuyasu who had bared with him through the most stressful summer of his life and saved it in the end.
Okuyasu, who had stolen Josuke’s heart, stood at the forefront of his mind at any given waking moment. And the recipient of the thoroughly thought-out letter clutched in Josuke’s hands.
Josuke found himself flustered at the front gates of their meeting spot. He kept his head straight forward as if looking anywhere else was a curse or taboo. He stood for a moment to collect his thoughts. A breath in. A breath out. It would be fine, everything would turn out fine. It could only go so horribly.
His stand settled itself, standing in the area's gateway, pushing the bushel of flowers into Josuke’s arms. Crazy Diamond exceeded an energy of finality. It would be this time, this time, that Josuke confessed. This time that he would finally spill his thoughts.
He walked through the gates.
The area was greyed out. A bleak space in the bright town of Morioh. Dry grass cracked through the edges and under the fences, small fungi sprouting in patterns around cut stone.
Josuke trudged on, shoes making an irritating crunching noise in his hearing aid from the gravel underfoot. He knew where Okuyasu was. He was great at always meeting in the same spot. Okuyasu was never hard to find, and this meetup was no different.
Josuke veered off the gravel path on the ground, sounds of crunching gravel swapped with that of dry grass. Not a much better sound than the last, but it wasn’t as if he had very far to go.
Josuke stopped at a particularly decorated stone and gave Okuyasu a shaky smile.
“Hey dude. It’s been a minute hasn’t it?” Josuke greeted.
Okuyasu didn’t respond. Stony silence was his new normal. Any of his cheerful and jovial personality had disappeared that day against Kira. It never deterred Josuke from his pining, though.
Josuke took a steadying breath. His heart hammered against his ribcage with each exhale. He shifted the card in his hands. Should he read it… or confess first? Or maybe neither. But a quick look back at the entrance confirmed his stand’s continued guardianship of the way in and out. Right, he had to do this.
“I’m gonna be right to the point with you bro, otherwise I’m never gonna say this shit. I-” No backing down now. He said the next words in a rush, as if taking his time would ruin his confidence. “I like you dude.I like-like; like-love you, Oku. I have for a long time and I can’t count how many times I’ve backed out of confessing, but it’s Valentine’s day dude. I’ve got Crazy D helping me with this and- and I’m sorry. For dancin’ around the point for so long.” And for a slew of other reasons that held no importance for the moment.
There was no tense waiting for a response, no careful watching of the other’s body language. Josuke moved almost mechanically to open the card in his hands. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and his throat felt dry. An air of desperation tinged his actions as he struggled with the flowers in his arms to get a good grip on everything.
He ripped open the envelope in a less-than-collected manner. But Okuyasu wouldn’t mind. He never did. His jaw felt like lead and as much ad he’d like to keep it shut, keep the words to himself, he needed them out just as desperately.
His hands shook slightly as he spoke.
“Hey Okuyasu,
Happy Valentine's day. But this one means a lot more than others. Hopefully, I’ve already told you myself when this is read but I love you. I have for years and you’ve been the subject of my waking thoughts more than I’d like to admit.
I could list all the ways I like you and go on for hours. From your personality, to your kind soul, to all the strength you had going through the life you did.
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve rewritten this card so far. It's more of a letter than a card. But I’ve done my best to make it perfect for you.
You were my best friend, Okuyasu. I wish I could have been your boyfriend. I’m sorry for a lot of things, but most of all for taking too long. I love you, bro.
-XOXO Josuke”
He closed the card, just a simple bland pink piece of cardstock in his hands. His attention centered on Okuyasu. The rock in front of him. It was a hunk of dirtied marble. Rough from erosion and hinted with green moss over the surface. The only importance of the rock came from the words engraved on the surface.
Nijimura Okuyasu
1983-1999
A caring brother, son, and friend to all. A precious soul lost to the world too soon.
Warmth welled in Josuke's eyes. With trembling hands, he placed the card onto the stone and the bouquet on top of it. The flowers sat as the only spark of colour in the Morioh Graveyard, a physical expression of Josuke’s affection.
Affection for a dead person. Because he was too slow. Too slow in figuring out his feelings, late in getting into words, and an effort behind being able to save his life.
Josuke stood, shoulders held tense. He stared at the gravestone but did not see, taking in all of his surroundings yet none at all. His throat felt dry, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. The world was silent. Has been since the day Okuyasu died.
He wishes that his hearing was the only thing he’d lost that summer.
The words caught in the back of his throat, wet as he forced them out. “I- miss you dude. So much. You have- no idea.” Of course, Okuyasu would never have an idea. He’d never know what Josuke was thinking, never know of all the night vigils and solemn stays he’d taken next to the grave. Okuyasu would know nothing because he was dead, and not even stands could reverse death.
There. He’d done it. Words out and nobody left to receive them.
Crazy Diamond hovered behind him, a comforting hand on his shoulder. Time to go home. He’s got a call to make after all this, doesn’t he?