Work Text:
Kiyoomi,
I read your letter, it was just as you had predicted, (but then you were always good with predictions) I was shocked and angry, I ran my hand through my hair and wondered why I even bothered checking my mail this morning. But maybe I was looking for something from you. But I won’t deny it, Kiyoomi, what you said that day HURT me, it probably always will. But still you mean so much to me, so I continued.
I was, am angry with you, you left me like it was the easiest choice of your life. You left like what we had didn’t mean shit. You left our world and all the broken pieces in it. And it hurt Kiyoomi, it hurt like hell. It hurt like I never thought anything could ever. And there were countless of sleepless nights I cried myself to thoughts of what I was missing. And I hated you. I hated how put together your life seemed. How you weren’t bothered by the fact that it was different. You were living your NEW life, new team, new friends ALL NEW. And I hated all of that, ‘cause it had none of me in it.
I guess I owe you an apology too, Kiyoomi. I saw how you were hurting after that game, and I tried to brush it off, I disregarded your feelings and I acted like it didn’t matter. I thought it was just another one of our losses. And we’d be okay. We always were. But then we weren’t. You weren’t. And… in that moment I wasn’t good enough for you either. That day you told me I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t perfect. And it’s true, I’m not. But we were, perfect. Together.
And I missed you Kiyoomi, thinking of you made my heart, my whole body hurt. Thinking of you and your new life broke me, again and again. You seemed so happy, and all I wanted was to burn it down. And yet I still missed you, just hearing your name on the TV was enough to make my heart ache, and I wanted to call you, hear your voice, but every time I dialed your number the pit of anger in my heart stopped me.
I was so angry at you, all the time, so angry you left me, but most of all, I was angry at myself... I hated myself for missing you, for holding on to you, and being the selfish bastard I am.
I hated myself for wishing I could hold you, wake up to you, press kisses into your soft hair, I hated myself for looking for signs, signs that you still wanted me the way I needed you. I needed you Kiyoomi, I needed to see you, be able to touch you and I wanted to eat your cooking and I wanted to watch our shows together. Hell I missed our bickering. Everything was so quiet without it.
And I won’t deny it anymore, Sakusa Kiyoomi, you are all I ever wanted.
You.
The way you look at me when I do something wrong, the way you push your hair outta your eyes when you’re angry, the way you smile a little under your mask when Bokkun or Sho-chan are in one of their antics. How your eyes soften when you see the little boys cheer for you at your games. I want all of that, the happy, the bad, the sad Omi, the moody Omi, the Omi that hates being touched but will sit still when someone combs his hair. I want all of you. I still do.
I still have so much I need to tell you Omi. And there’s so much I want to hear from you, I want you to look me in the eye and apologise to me, and I will too. Then I want you to tell me about you again, again and again and don’t skip the details this time. Then we’ll have dinner, catch up on a show, and maybe I could hold you and this time I won’t let go.
You know my address,
With love (and much more to come)
Your Tsumu.