Work Text:
Haruka looked at the message he had typed out one last time.
“We shouldn’t meet up for a while.”
Accompanied by a sharp breath, his shaking hand pressed send and turned off his phone.
“It’s better like this” He had told himself countless times, but it still hurt.
He had never felt like this before.
Sure, Kanata had angered him countless times in his life- but it was always just that, anger- not sadness.
Even when he got kicked out of his old band- he just felt frustrated and pissed.
Haruka was just a person who put all his negative emotions into anger.
So then why were his hands shaking and his eyes watery? Why was his nose running even though he was sure he didn’t have a cold?
He made his hands into fists- his nails slowly digging into his skin- and forcefully closed his eyes.
Why was this so hard?
He opened his eyes for a moment, but when he saw his own unstable breathing in the air, he closed them again.
He hated seeing himself like this.
The sniffling sounds of his nose, his unsteady breathing and the tears building up in his eyes all made him feel so weak.
Haruka just wanted this to end.
He slowly felt warm tears running down his face. He guessed that- in the end- there was never any point in holding it in- nobody was watching him anyway.
So, he just let it all out- for the first time in his life.
He brought his legs up to his head- hugging himself close.
On this cold winter night, he was all alone in this park- crying his eyes out while snowflakes slowly fell from the sky.
He had always been alone like this- and it was foolish of him to think that would ever change.
This was the moment he finally admitted to himself that he really wasn’t the strong person he always tried to be.
“Haruka doesn’t care about anything” his ass- everything always hurt him so deeply.
Seeing himself grow up from the hopeful, hero-wannabe child to this bitter version of himself; always getting tormented by his brother while thinking back on how good things used to be between them; knowing he had nobody to share his interests with and knowing oh so well that nobody cared about any of this- it all hurt like fucking hell.
And it always made Haruka wonder where everything went wrong.
He brought his arm to his face- wiping his tears away before sighing.
What was even the point in all of this?
He looked to his side- his guitar still sitting next to him on the bench as if trying to comfort him- and truthfully, it did.
“Ha,” he let out a small laugh before choking on his tears.
“I’m pathetic.”
Haruka propped his guitar up on his legs and positioned his hands on its neck.
It was quite ironic how Yamato was the person who brought him closer to his guitar- and music in general- and now was the person who made him cry on a bench, all alone at night in some random park in Tokyo, with only his guitar as comfort.
He let out one last shaky breath before strumming his guitar strings.
“I really miss you.”