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Everyone always described it as drowning. He’d heard it millions of times before. In movies or books, videos of people online, from the mouths of passerby strangers. It was something he never really paid attention to. It was something he wasn’t really worried about, after all.
This… “heartbreak.”
Like a chainsaw through the heart. Or a shock to your nervous system. Even akin to feeling a version of you dying. One time, he even heard that your brain feels so much pain that it could only assume it’s traumatic. So much pain, so much hurt, you must be in danger, right? It activates your body’s defense systems, releasing adrenaline for you to escape, or just survive.
But there is no surviving here. You cannot escape what happened to you. You cannot escape your own emotions.
It was stupid…but intriguing. Yuuichirou saw how it changed the people around them. And, honestly, saying a version of them died was honestly not a stretch. After all, human beings are just a mosaic of those around us. If you lose a piece, then you have to change the others to fill that empty space now.
But you can’t rush to fill it. You can’t rush to hide it away. No, it wouldn’t work anyway. It can’t. Because, when it gets too dark, in the stillness of the night, it will ache again. Just waiting. Waiting for the moment you let your guard down. And suddenly things you thought you were over are rushing through your veins again.
That lump in your throat comes back, one you thought you spit out already. No, of course not. My dear, you only swallowed it down. The trembling in your hands, the labored breaths, the irritation in your nose from sniffling too much… it all comes back eventually.
Time heals all wounds, another bogus statement. Time doesn’t do shit. It’s you. You have to put in the effort to heal them. Otherwise, it will always come back to haunt you. It will follow you all the way home, like a hungry wolf, staying just behind but always there.
And you can see it. Every time you dare to look back, its eyes meet your own. Sometimes, it’s closer to you, just waiting to bite. Other times, you catch a glimpse of it over the horizon. Still, you know it’s there. Even with your head turned, you’ve learned to not doubt the beast’s ability.
Growing up, Yuuichirou Hyakuya thought he had become accustomed to being thrown away. Used and tampered with, and discarded without a second thought. It was a fear he always held within him, especially so whenever he entered a new relationship.
The human brain works on patterns. It is constantly analyzing things, and associating them with our past experiences. The second your brain marks something as wrong, it’s hard to look past it. Maybe a friend said something, did something, that your brain takes a little too much note of. And then another small thing. And it all builds up.
You already know. The wolf is right behind you again, and you are just waiting for it to strike, at this point.
And yet, even knowing, you push forward. You try to ignore the warning flags and you keep going. Because these people, your friends. They love you. So they wouldn’t ever hurt you like that. Right? The people who hurt you before, they didn’t care. And still, the pain overwhelmed your senses. It rewired your brain, and shifted your body to accommodate it. No, they couldn’t possibly do this to you. People who love each other don’t hurt each other, right?
And yet, even Yuuichirou knew he was a hypocrite. There’s a reason fear is used as a weapon. It is a powerful thing. It can make someone act irrational. Make them say and do things they would have never agreed to otherwise.
Fear is what drives the most primal creature, and it is what ruins Yuuichirou’s relationships.
Yuuichirou could see it in their eyes as well. In the shakiness of their breaths. In the quiver of their hands. How could he blame them? How could he ever? Yuuichirou’s entire being was created around this fear… of course he understands it.
Still, that doesn’t make it better.
Yuuichirou wasn’t the smartest, in many ways. Academically, emotionally, socially. Yuuichirou knew he lacked things. He knew he said things that he shouldn’t have. He knew there were so many things he should have apologized for, that simply went unnoticed. That didn’t mean he wasn’t sorry.
What it did make him was a coward. Too scared to be faced with everything that was wrong with him, while constantly trying to prove he was worth their affection. That he was worthy of being cared for. Worth anything at all. He convinced himself that maybe he could just do better next time?
It didn’t matter now. It all culminated to this moment. And Yuuichirou realized…
Everyone else was a coward too.
Guren had given him two options. Two. And as everyone’s voices overlapped each other, Yuuichirou distantly wondered — how did we get here?
Mika had already told him not to trust Guren. Yuu knew why, he wasn’t stupid. But he still loved. Oh, how he loved, and loved, and loved. It wasn’t good, it wasn’t healthy at all, but Guren could have done anything to him and Yuu would have still found a way to forgive him.
Because that’s what people who love others do, isn’t it? They go through the pain, they sit in the discomfort, and they choose each other. Despite there being an “easier” answer, despite it all, you choose each other. And by god, that’s all Yuuichirou ever wanted. To be chosen, over and over again.
Though, in his effort to be chosen, Yuuichirou never really let anyone in. There was only one exception to this rule, of course. Mikaela Hyakuya was someone who took his time, picking apart every hastily stitched wound, gently wrapping them up and kissing the bandage.
Their voices only grew louder with his hesitance, and part of Yuuichirou wanted to yell back at them. “Can’t you see what you’re asking of me? Everything you’re asking of me, what you’re asking me to let go of for you… don’t you realize you’re asking me to willingly give up what was torn away from you?”
But yelling never worked. It never really got his message across. Because he stood beside people who he thought understood him, and none of them cared about what he wanted. Only what was “right.”
But what is right? What is right for them, seems inconceivable to him. Why should he suffer for everyone else to be happy? Why should anyone suffer for anyone else to live a happier life? Why couldn’t people just understand each other? If they all loved each other, don’t they deserve to give each other that much grace? Doesn’t he deserve the dignity of getting a say in a decision that will affect his life too?
The worst part of it all was that Yuuichirou, despite it all, understood them. He understood Kimizuki. He understood Yoichi. He understood Mitsuba. He understood Shinoa. He understood Mika.
He understood Guren.
God, it would have been so much easier if he didn’t. If he could just pretend he didn’t care at all. If he could snap at them just as they did, like what he had to say never mattered in the first place. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t find it in him.
Instead, he did what felt like the only thing he could do was. Apologize. It was soft, tender, and somehow, full of regret. Because Yuuichirou knew, everything thrown at him didn’t actually matter. Nothing they could say now could change what happened. Nothing hurtful they said could matter.
Nobody meant to hurt anybody, that’s how it always goes, right?
At least, this time, Yuuichirou could apologize for it.
The meaning of life has always been to search for one. To find something that will bring joy into this desolate world. Everyone else was still looking, trying for more. Yuuichirou decided from the moment he met Mikaela again that he didn’t need to search anymore. As long as his eyes were able to find Mika’s, things would be alright.
If losing what he loves is the price to pay for being the hero, Yuuichirou didn’t want to be one. He never felt suited to the role anyway. Too afraid, too stubborn, too hurt. Too afraid to allow himself to be hurt again.
So, an apology was all he could give.
Yuuichirou held tightly onto the meaning of his life, and he wasn’t willing to let it go. For as much as people loved him, as much as he loved them as well, there were certain things you just cannot give up.
He ran.
Everything hurt as he did. The aching in his chest, the tiredness in his legs, the blood rushing in his ears.
But he ran.
And it wasn’t until Yuuichirou finally had time to stop, finally had time to think after being so suddenly confronted, that it all hit him.
Yuuichirou hurt them as well. His actions were like a betrayal to his friends… and yet, he never intended for it to be that way. The grip on the sword attached to his tightened.
He didn’t turn back, not once.
Yuuichirou chose himself. For once, he chose himself. And it felt like simultaneously the best and worst decision of his life. He chose himself, and in doing so, betrayed himself. These weren’t just his friends, they were his family.
But there was no going back now. Still, Yuuichirou yearned to see their faces again. He hoped that if they crossed paths, perhaps, they could really talk this time. Perhaps they could learn more about each other, and love each other in a way that would allow the other to feel loved.
Life was not so easy, unfortunately. Yuuichirou made his choice already. To leave behind shattered hopes and dreams, in the pursuit of “true” happiness. He wouldn’t turn back, not anymore. Even if it promised just a glimpse of the family he once had. Turning back would not bring him anything but pain and regret. Those are things he is carrying already, even without looking.
There was one thing he did not regret, though. And if Mikaela was his true happiness, was he really so wrong for chasing what was left of it? Of him? Because could Yuuichirou even consider himself a person without him? Could they really blame him for being as selfish as they were?
Any time the doubts became too loud, Yuuichirou looked up at the sky. At the hundreds, upon thousands, of stars. Yuuichirou is all but one human being. His happiness will never amount to anything in the world.
But…
Simply holding his hand, as they sit next to each other. On the run, clinging tightly to the only thing they’ve ever known as truth… perhaps nothing else mattered anymore.
Bravery, perhaps, is cowardice after all.