Work Text:
In the beginning, Shoutarou had hated them.
He hated the way they had no sense of personal boundaries. He hated how they never seemed to need to sleep or eat. He hated their apparent callousness, the way they never seemed to feel anything. He hated the way they spoke their mind, without any heed of the consequences. He hated the way they never even tried to soften their verbal blows -- and he hated how he wasn't even sure if they knew their words hurt him as much as they did. Shoutarou hated that their words even hurt him at all.
But, most of all, Shoutarou hated how the boss had died protecting them. Why them? Shoutarou didn't understand that for a long time.
And every time they formed W together, Shoutarou saw a little more of their consciousness, a little more of them as a person.
And now, their absence felt like a cavernous hole in him, a gaping wound. Everything was emptier without Philip around.
And now, without them here, Shoutarou couldn't help but miss all the little things he used to hate, so long ago.
He missed them when he quoted the boss or one of his detective novels overdramatically, in the way his heart dropped when he realised they weren't going to respond.
He missed them in how he still always made three cups of coffee, and how he would drink the extra cup because he didn't want it to go to waste. He missed them in every sad look Akiko gave him when she thought he wasn't looking.
He missed their plain way of saying things -- Shoutarou never had to pry Philip's thoughts from them. They never hid anything from him.
He missed how even though Philip sometimes spoke thoughtlessly, it never meant they were being purposely cruel, or that they didn't feel. They were open to him, and spoke their mind, and he missed being able to trust someone wholly. (There was Akiko, but that was... different.)
He missed knowing somebody else's mind as well as he knew his own. He missed feeling like he was complete, and whole for the first time in his life. He hadn't even realized what he was missing, until suddenly it was gone again.
He missed how Philip would correct him whenever he said "I" instead of "we". Sometimes, he still said we, before the realization that Philip was gone hit him again.
He missed their presence whenever he had nightmares -- which were a nightly occurence these days. He missed how Philip would lay with him for hours until he was able to sleep again, despite the fact that they didn't really need to sleep. He missed how sometimes he would wake up to find them still there, next to him.
He missed the look on Philip's face whenever they particularly liked a food Shoutarou had them try, or their laugh whenever Shoutarou was acting particularly ridiculous.
He missed the way they said "aibou", and the fond way they called him "half-boiled".
He missed every single thing he used to hate, because all of those things were what made Philip... Philip. But now, there were new things Shoutarou hated.
He hated the feeling of transforming by himself, of not feeling complete. He hated being alone with his own thoughts. He hated every constant reminder that he was alone, and every pitying gaze he got from people who thought he didn't see.
But most of all, Shoutarou hated that he never told Philip any of this before they were gone. He hated that they would never know.
He hated feeling broken and alone.