Between You And Me

Between You and Me

or The 5 times you catch Senku staring + the 1 time he catches you

Ishigami Senku x Reader

Quote: “Fall in love with someone because of their smile.”

1.

Senku doesn’t mind living alone in the New World by himself. While studies have proven that humans are bound to go crazy without human interaction, Senku had no way to speed up the survival process; and truthfully, he doesn’t think he’ll go crazy anytime soon. Afterall, if being trapped in his own mind hasn’t destroyed his mental health then being the only human around for a few years shouldn’t affect him much more.

When you’re revived, Senku finds the first interactions between the two of you to be awkward. The two of you are almost opposites in every way and stumble in and out of conversations with each other.

Weiterlesen

hear me out, that last dr stone angst but write a continuation where everybody learns that y/n was dead and senku’s reaction to discovering that it was his fault <3

"Amongst that crowd, Senku was one of those who stared at you in horror. "

hooooly this is finally finished! the long awaited epilogue to the hanahaki story! this was pretty difficult to write- i wanted to cover as much as i could without making it too lengthy while being realistic, which wasn't easy. im a bit iffy about some of the characterization, but nevertheless, i hope it was worth the wait! thank you for your patience!

warnings: detailed descriptions of death, blood, sickness, grief, intrusive thoughts, burning of a body (sorry its a lot but considering the theme...). if i should add any warnings, PLEASE let me know. some manga spoilers but nothing too major!

words: 3,374

Constructive feedback is always welcome! I’m always looking to improve!

Requests are open! (checked my pinned post!)

The concept of the Hanahaki disease was first introduced to Ishigami Village through the one hundred tales. It was mentioned briefly- a woman, in love with a man who didn’t love her back, had suffocated on yellow tulip petals that she couldn’t stop throwing up. There had been no record of anyone in the village ever experiencing such a sickness, and many assumed the story was a metaphor or a lesson like the other tales. Simply a fictional disease. 

“What a silly way to die.” You had thought to yourself when you first heard of the illness as a young child. If only you knew you’d be in the same position as the woman in the story, suffocating on yellow tulip petals because the man you were in love with didn’t love you back. 

In your final moments, you saw your life flash before your eyes, internally laughing at the cliché. You saw yourself with your best friends, Kohaku, Ruri, Chrome, Kinro and Ginro, little Suika and old man Kaseki. You saw yourself with the man you had fallen in love with, acquainting him, working with him, becoming friends. 

Senku Ishigami. The brilliant scientist who Kohaku one day brought home and helped heal her sick older sister. A man of the future who told you all sorts of stories, created all sorts of things from his time and shaped your world into something magical. Senku Ishigami is quite a guy.

Which is why in the end, you didn’t regret loving him. Though you wish you could’ve lived long enough to start a new chapter with him after defeating Tsukasa, you passed on to the next world happy that you were able to indulge in everything he was. 

You did feel guilty leaving your friends--your family--behind though. You didn’t want to, but you couldn’t find a cure to heal you of your sickness. Keeping your condition hidden (with the exception of your mentalist friend finding out) made it difficult to focus on finding a cure, covering for yourself and helping the Kingdom of Science in their war against the Tsukasa Empire. And so one day during your final stages of hanahaki, Gen Asagiri had found you dead in your tent, covered in yellow tulips and stained with blood, and rushed off crying for help. 

Ukyo, with his super sharp hearing, was the first to hear Gen’s distant cries. He called for everyone’s attention and they all turned toward the sound of Gen’s panting and shouting. When he finally reached everyone, he stared at the citizens wide eyed. Though the war against the Tsukasa Empire had ended, the Kingdom of Science had a new mission: to establish cities all over the globe. To do that, they needed to make a ship and prepare for the journey. Senku and some others had returned only minutes ago from retrieving a ship captain- he could tell by the  unfamiliar stranger standing next to them. Gen didn’t have time to think about it. “It’s Y/N.”

Something wasn’t right. Gen had a wild look in his eyes as if he’d seen a dead man, was visibly shaking, and Senku deduced he had just returned from visiting your tent as you weren’t present when the group left. Kohaku too could tell that something was off and made the same deduction Senku did. In her hard-headed nature, she rushed past Gen and toward your tent in a panic. Some people tried stopping her, but gave up quickly upon realizing their efforts were futile.

“Gonna need you to be a bit more specific, Gen.” Senku's tone was airy, but he was trying not to make his desperation to know what happened to you evident. 

“Y/N…”

“C’mon mentalist, spit it out.”

“...is...dead.”

-

When Kohaku barged into your tent, she was appalled at the horrifying sight. She collapsed at your side, crying out at you and cradling you in her arms.  Pools of blood, flowers, flowers drenched in blood, all of it surrounded your body. “Y/N? Y/N, say something. Please, Y/N, please say something.” She pleaded at your body as she pressed her forehead against yours, tears rapidly falling from her eyes and onto your blood stained face. You couldn’t hear any of it.

A crowd shortly formed at the entrance of your tent where gasps and mutters were exchanged. Some stared at the sight in shock and horror, some looked away in disgust and anguish. 

Amongst that crowd, Senku was one of those who stared at you in horror. 

Hanahaki wasn’t an unheard of disease in the modern world. Of course it existed, but little was known about proper treatment. In the age of advanced medicines, there were only two sure cures: one was surgery, the other was requited love. 

Kohaku turned toward the crowd with a heavy flow of tears rolling down her face. She held you close to her chest in a protective manner, as if attempting to shield you from the damage you had inflicted onto yourself. “We’ve got to be able to do something! Senku! We have to help them!”

For the first time ever, Senku’s senses dulled for what seemed like an eternity. His mind couldn’t process the sight of his friend covered in their own blood, unconscious and completely unmoving. His mind rejected the fact that your body had been completely drained of life as his fingers brushed yours while checking your pulse. When did he force himself through the crowd and crouch down beside you? 

“Senku! We have to act now!”

Everyone dies at some point, Senku knows and accepts this, but he’s never felt more distressed than he does right now looking at your lifeless, sickly frame. He’s had to cope with a lot of hardships in a short amount of time- the loss of his dad, his life, his departure from his two best friends, and though he could argue that the worst has come to shove, he felt physically sick as he continued to stare at you, head spinning, his chest blazing. 

“Senku! Say something!”

“T-They’re beyond saving. Too much blood loss…” Snap out of it, Senku, he told himself firmly. Squeezing his eyes shut, he shook his head and let out a deep exhale, frustration and grief slowly overwhelming both his mind and body. “They lost too much blood overnight, and even if we were to find them sooner, blood transfusions can have their own complications. There’s-,” Senku swallows. What he said next pained him from the very depths of his soul. He’s the calm and collected type who works well even under extreme pressure and always keeps his wits, always finding solutions despite having terrible luck on his side, and so the crack in his voice betrays his attempt at remaining composed when he utters “there’s…not much we could have done.” 

Senku slowly turned toward the crowd and fixed his gaze on Gen, who was staring at you with sheer terror in his face. He seemed to be two seconds away from a complete breakdown. “Gen, did you know?” 

The mentalist’s eyes snapped toward the scientist’s, hard to detect emotion in his crimson ones. Gen gulped; he knew Senku was referring to the disease. “Yes. It was important to Y/N for their condition to be kept secret. I…connected the dots on my own.” 

“Hang on, condition? What condition?” Chrome’s uneasy and slightly angry voice suddenly rang out as he pushed past the crowd toward the front to stand beside Gen. Kohaku’s teary eyed darted from you to her friends. She thought hard. Condition. Flowers. Death. 

“Could it be…”

“Gen.” Senku yet again directed a question to the magician, cutting off Kohaku. “Why don’t you explain to all of us what happened to Y/N?” 

-

It was important that the entirety of the Kingdom of Science was informed of your death and the events leading up to it. The crowd that had formed at your tent, mostly your friends and those from Ishigami Village, rounded up the elders, newcomers, and former members of the Tsukasa Empire to the middle of the base, where Gen began his explanation. 

He explained what the Hanahaki disease was, the coughing of flowers and petals, the two known cures, and how either were unavailable to you. He recalled first noticing your symptoms, his confrontation on the eve of delivering the cellphone and your desperation to keep the disease a secret, afraid of burdening others during a critical period in the waging war between the Tsukasa Empire and the Kingdom of Science. He admitted to covering on behalf of you and even explained how he tried curing you with the sulfa-drug. 

Senku had cut in to explain to the angry villagers why the so-called “panacea” didn’t work on you. “The sulfa-drug is meant to cure bacterial infections such as Ruri’s pneumonia. Hanahaki, however, doesn’t work like most sicknesses and normal means of treatment aren’t successful. Considering the nature of the disease, no ordinary medicine would be able to fully cure it.” 

“Someone could’ve saved Y/N though, right?” Someone in the crowd called out. “Someone had to return their feelings!” 

“...Yes.” Senku turned toward Gen, but kept his gaze fixed to the ground. “So Gen, who was Y/N’s sweetheart?” 

Gen smiled as he regrettably told the scientist, “It was you, dear Senku.” 

Senku’s convinced that this is the worst of his bad luck. 

-

The Kingdom of Science’s first loss was a heavy burden on everyone, especially those from Ishigami Village who considered you family. 

Kohaku’s face was grim the first couple of days with you gone. Being known as the strongest out of everyone in her village, she felt angry for being so powerless. Feelings of regret only fueled her anger and grief as she reflected on times when she would catch you coughing or sneaking off and not persist with questions or investigating. She dropped her guard and wasn’t able to help her loved one, and she felt disgusted with herself. Ruri did her best to comfort her younger sister, but even she felt a tremendous guilt. As someone who suffered with an illness her entire life and had an important role to play in the village, she regrets not being more concerned with your symptoms and shared Kohaku’s regret in not persisting enough with questions. 

All Suika ever wanted was to be helpful, and she failed in assisting you with your sickness. The seemingly never ending energy she always had was drained for a long while. She looked up to you as an older sibling, perhaps even a parental figure, and now you were gone. You had always done so much for her, constantly making sure she was safe, teaching her things you learned from Senku and the other villagers, and comforting her when she felt scared or sad, yet Suika wasn’t able to repay you. You saved her so many times, but she couldn’t save you. Nobody let Suika go anywhere near your body, but she managed to catch a glimpse of you being carried out of your tent with a white cloth over you, and as the reality of it all settled in, she panicked so bad she passed out. 

Kinro and Ginro had a duty to protect their village and everyone in it, yet they couldn’t protect you. Admittedly, they don’t understand much about science and medicine, but they trained hard and stood guard day and night so the villagers of Ishigami Village could go about themselves without having to fear any doom. Ginro, in his anxious nature, was horrified by your death, scared for his life and set into a panic. He was afraid that the hanahaki disease would claim his life next, and Senku had to explain that the disease isn’t contagious when Gen addressed everyone. While Ginro was making a fuss, Kinro hit him over his head with his spear and told him to can it. Kinro wished the disease was a physical foe he was able to defeat or at least had known about. He, like Kohaku, felt angry for being so powerless. He did his best to appear strong, though his teary eyes betrayed him.

Chrome had millions of thoughts and feelings rushing over him at once almost 24/7, all of them suffocating. You had been best friends ever since the two of you were young, and instead of figuring out you were ill, he had to witness you bathe in a pool of your own blood. He felt sick, hell, he even got sick multiple times, the sight and situation heavy on his mind and heart. Chrome was angry at you, but most especially angry at himself, and the questions he had for you were meters of mental parchment long. Why didn’t you feel like you could confide in him? How could he not notice the pain you were in? Couldn’t you trust him to help you? What troubled him the most was the recurring and realistic thought that, even if you did bring your situation to his awareness, he couldn’t have done anything about it. 

Kaseki didn’t disguise his sadness and openly cried over your death, which only made those who tried to appear strong, like Kinro, more emotional. He spoke about how your life was taken so tragically and far too soon, sorrowful that an old man like him outlived a spunky young person such as yourself. He cursed out the disease and how something so beautiful such as flowers could be so deadly and lead to your demise. 

Those who didn’t know you very well were still shocked that someone had passed. Ukyo, who had joined the Kingdom of Science under the condition that not a single life is lost, felt very conflicted about the circumstances of your death. He knew that nobody was responsible for your death, and it was the disease that had claimed your life, but he couldn’t help feeling a little resentful. He kept a close eye on Senku ever since Gen revealed that it was he who could’ve saved you. 

Like Ukyo, Taiju and Yuzuriha couldn’t believe that someone had actually died. They too kept close eyes on Senku and did their best to give him the space they knew he needed to reflect. Neither of them knew you very well, but from the short time they did, you seemed like an amazing individual and could tell you were special to many, including their best friend, from the impact your death had on them all. 

Gen was scared and felt largely responsible for your death. Intrusive thoughts and dreams about you plagued him day and night, your strained voice echoing in the back of his mind feeding into his guilt. You killed me, choked out your voice. I don’t wanna die, you cried out, and nothing Gen did could drown out your voice. He felt hopeless, weak and a coward. Before, he didn’t mind being all these things, but now with you gone, with the slight chance that he could’ve been able to save you, he regretted demonstrating these qualities in such a serious situation. He’d shrink into himself, hiding his face behind his face while thinking “why trust me, Y/N? Why me?” 

-

“Why me, Y/N?” was a frequent thought Senku was plagued with. While everyone was taking time off their tasks to cope with your passing, Senku spent a lot of his time holed up in the lab back at Ishigami Village. 

He was frustrated, like many others. He was conflicted on how to feel about your death and didn’t know how to react. You were a close friend of his that he cared very deeply about, a friend that he cared about in the same way he cared about Kohaku or Chrome. You didn’t do anything wrong, his friends have told him, and though he knows himself, he’s glad because admittedly, he finds himself needing the reminder. 

To think that it was because he didn’t return your romantic feelings for him that led to your death was a heavy burden that he knows you did your best to avoid shouldering onto him. He knew how you were; selfless and courageous to the very end. It was one of the things that he liked so much about you, but in this instance, he wished you were a little bit selfish. Senku knew that you kept your illness a secret to avoid weighing down the others, and he regrettably admitted to himself that if you were to come forward with your disease, it may have slowed down productivity. Along with the burden of war would come the burden of sickness, and that was an obstacle that everyone had already celebrated in overcoming. For it to be revealed that there was a new sickness to be concerned about would’ve lowered morale significantly. 

But it was your life on the line. You could’ve at least come to him. He’s a scientist, but most importantly, he’s Senku. He isn’t the type to walk away from trouble or to back down from a tricky problem. He sticks with something till the very end; until he’s found a loophole, concocted a seemingly impossible plan, or has gone through every single step of a painstaking project. He would’ve been by your side, he would’ve helped you. 

He’s ten billion percent sure of it. 

And he has to stabilize himself by putting his hand on the table as the thought of being too much for your friend to handle brought tears to his eyes. He constantly puts his trust in those around him, sometimes because he needs to, but mostly because he chooses to, and from the very first day he’s met you, he chose to trust you. 

So why couldn’t you trust him? 

He’s let you down. He’s done so much for others, and yet he’s let his friend down. 

-

Eventually, everyone had to proceed with their travel plans. There was still a lot that had to be done before a crew could set off establishing cities around the world. 

Ryusui had suggested that you were set out to sea as a symbolic gesture to represent where you grew up and where you were headed off to. A small boat was created for your body to lay in, along with your possessions and flowers. It felt ironic to some to send you off with the very same thing that killed you. When you drifted far enough, Ukyo drew a fire arrow and shot it onto your boat. The flames devoured everything on board, and many couldn’t bear to watch as your body became engulfed in the scorching fire. A gravestone was marked in Ishigami Village’s cemetery with your name, date of birth and death. Below, “beloved friend and family” was carved by Kaseki. 

Many people visited your grave regularly while preparations were made, vowing to continue doing their best and to create the future you dreamt of being a part of. They paid their respects and said their goodbyes before departing for the long journey ahead of them, and once they returned, they sat around your grave and talked to it about all of their adventures and achievements, laughing and feeling comforted by the presence of your spirit. 

-

Though Senku had said his goodbyes with the rest of the group, he returned to the cemetery in the early morning of the crew's departure. He kneeled and bowed his head, placing one hand on the stone with your name carved in front of him. Tears trickled down his face and onto the soil that you were raised on, on the same Earth that you trekked on and explored with Senku. 

Senku thinks he’ll always be angry over your death. He’s lost a lot, and the grief will always be with him, but he swears to you as his grip on the stone tightens that he’ll bring the future you were so enamored with to fruition. He got up and headed for the docks with the promise of restoring humanity for the sake of you and all those who never were able to live to see it. He’ll keep you in his thoughts throughout every step.

And that proves true years later as Senku works on his newest science project with his unwavering determination and resolution that was fuelled by the idea of being able to see you again.

Stealing Killua’s turtlenecks

-I have risen from the dead to make this post specifically -i can’t get over how adorable this boy is (in his own right lmao) -bullet points because I am too tired to write an actual one-shot (it’s 2:45 in the morn lmaooooo) -established relationship + aged up

-killua’s shirts look very comfy, be honest here lmao -he wears them all the time except when it’s sweltering hot (like on Whale Island–it’s way too hot there) -just seeing Killua bask in sunlight by the windowsill on a stormy night makes you wonder how comfy his shirts are -when Killua is off to have lunch and train with Gon, you decline -’I’m taking an active rest day today, you guys have fun’ -pfft, the heck is an active rest day? Killua has no clue. He brushes it off in favour of shrugging and bidding you a good day -that’s when you rummage through Killua’s room and find his shirts -they smell nice, like candy and chocolates (but not in a sense to overpower your nose) -it’s a soft smell and reminds you of childhood -killua’s shirts are very soft, you can’t help but flop on his bed and pull up the turtleneck -it’s sooooo soft -no wonder he wears them so often! -if it weren’t for the cool autumn air though, you would be sweating like crazy -it starts to rain outside as you lazily lay in bed -you wonder if Killua and Gon will stay out to train or come back home early -eventually you begin to fall asleep -it’s very cold in Killua’s room since he left the window open, and with the rain pelting outside, a draft causes it to feel like Siberia -but Killua’s turtleneck is warm and soft against your skin, like a warm hug that refuses to let you go -and his scent? Well, it feels like Killua is there with you, even though you know he’s out and about training/having lunch -eventually you fall asleep cuddled in the sheets -it’s too late when you realise the door has opened. Your eyes snap open and the familiar voice of your boyfriend fills your ears -”(Y/n)?” he calls. “I brought you something back for lunch. You’re always hungry, so I thought you’d want some. It’s your favourite.” -usually, you’d burst from your room and race through the halls to tackle Killua in a thank-you hug (just to see him get all blushy and flustered) -today? Well, you’re panicking -if Killua so much as sees you in his shirt, you’ll never hear the end of it -he’ll bully you to death with that stupidly handsome face of his, then make you all embarrassed and -the door opened before you could finish that thought -uh oh, it seems Killua is much too sharp for your groggy mind -he stares at you for a good moment before letting out something between a laugh and a snort -you see the look in his eyes. He’s ready to tease you to death -”Killua, if you’re gonna say anything mean–” -instead, he rips off the sheets and hauls you into his arms -he’s very strong (but so are you) -suddenly he’s burying his face into your shoulder, a cat-like smile on his lips -”You missed me that much? I was only gone for like, five hours.” -his lips are on yours and you swallow back a snarky retort to savour the gentle way he looks into your eyes -gosh, when he looks at you like that, it makes your heart melt

just thinking about being so in sync with diluc that when the pair of you fight on the battlefield it somehow turns into a stage.

you cover each other’s weaknesses so perfectly that the scene almost looks choreographed- a dance of death, fatal only to those close enough to the performance.

he hits hard but you hit faster. you strike high, he swerves low. a twist, a single turn, and all of a sudden your backs are pressed close together.

hot. flushed.

one sidestep to the right and he’s already covering the area you’d just left, a heavy claymore swinging down in a blaze of crimson to cut down whoever dared to attack you. his flames lick at your sides, but they never burn.

this feeling, the constant rush of heat and adrenaline, of safety, it’s—

it’s addictive. thrilling. that’s what it is.

these unspoken vows of protection.

you could get lost in the beat of metal clashing upon metal, to the melody of your shared grunts and hastily-spoken warnings.

oh, archons could you get lost in this duet of life and death. to lose yourself to these familiar steps and drown in the sensation of lulling flames would be a fate you’d almost willingly resign yourself to.

but it’s unintentional, this dance. it goes unnoticed by the performers but onlookers can see just how well you two synergise.

subconscious coordination.

perhaps that’s why he always agrees to pair up with you on these missions. with anyone else he’d scoff at the mere thought, for what is a partner but only a hindrance, a liability?

no, you’re neither. not to him.

because he knows that no matter the situation, you’d always have his back just as he had yours.

a silent promise for the oblivious.

; ✦ — @irethepotato , @fiannee , @tellerluna-stories , @byeol-ssi , @umiwu , @roguebox

second, first meeting | chishiya shuntarou

spoiler warning for ending of aib season 2

after the meteor, chishiya notices the all too familiar person. their a pull towards you - like maybe you’ve met somewhere? (gn reader)

words - 1.1k

a/n: WOW AIB 2 FINALLY OUT AND THE ENDING WAS REALLY GOOD I THINK. anyways arisu and usagis ending was so cute and i needed literally the “have we met?” scenario with ALL of them. and i’m a weak so i made this, very shoot, not beta’d, just a small and sweet drabble. enjoy reading!!!

—

Chishiya is alive.

He sure as hell didn't feel like it, but he was. The meteorite took a lot out of him, physically and mentally. Waking up in the beeping hospital room with a sudden new look on life, and he was going to do something about it. No more being a messenger for bad news, slowly tearing down people's hope one referral after another.

Dozens of people just experienced the same pain and trauma as he walked around him, some looking better than others. A girl with an amputated leg, a man in a coma as he passed by his room, and a girl and boy walking hand in hand with injuries littered over them. Humanity– always finding love in terrible suitaions.

Chishiya stood in one of the hospital common rooms, people-watching as he always does. God– it feels like a lifetime had passed since the meteorite. Chishiya was familiar with the whirring and beeping sounds of hospitals, people chatting and crying, and the strong smell of disinfectants and bleach. He was a doctor, all these things filled his life to the brim, it was familiar.

Even you.

You, who stood across the room; tucked into a corner (like chishiya), people-watching, snacking on crackers, and keeping yourself comfortably hidden. Yes, you’d caught his eyes. But something felt off deep inside his stomach, something was off about you. Almost like you were too familiar, chishiya could see a lifetime in your eyes and this is the only time he's ever seen you. Maybe, it wasn't?

Chishiya knew better than to laser focus on one person in the room, because your head perked up. Right into his direction, but chishiya’s gaze didn't falter– he couldn't even if he wanted to. The pull towards you was too intense, it made him dizzy. shock, confusion, remembrance? Flashed across your face, similar to him.

A small, sweet smile grew on your face. Fuck, what medication did they put him on? That meteorite really did a deal on him because suddenly he can’t breathe. For a moment he thought maybe his stitched came undone, half expecting to see blood soaking his scrubs when he looked down. But no– it was just you. Chishiya’s has never seen a smile so familiar, yet foreign.

Your eyes narrowed in his direction, like you were trying to read him. Something many people found difficult in the past, Chishiya didn’t put up a fight or a stone-cold face. Chishiya narrowed his eyes back, like a challenge.

So wrapped up in you that he didn't see the teenage boy wheeling a little too close to his toes in a wheelchair. “Ow!” chishiya yelped.

“Ah! I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” the boy began to spew out a plethora of apologies, frantically bowing his head to the elder.

“It's okay!” chishiya reassure, the sting in his toe had already been subdued– an easy injury compared to the bandaged and stitched-up ones he gained a few days ago. “Seriously, it’s okay.”

The boys' apologies slowed and he wheeled off, practically still bowing. Chishiya chuckled under his breath at the gesture. Looking back up to find you again, weird– what's got into him? Your spot ghosted empty and chishiya’s eyes frantically searched for you, only to find your back now turned to him and trudging down the hallways. Right as his eyes landed on you, your neck turned and you glanced back at chishiya.

A challenge indeed.

Chishiya curiously cocked his head, looking something like a cat. And then one foot in front of another, chishiya was following you down the hallway. He wasn't sure why, maybe he didn’t need a reason. I mean, he almost died, chishiya felt like he didn’t need a solid reason to do anything anymore besides what he wanted. And he wanted to follow the beautiful, mysterious, and weirdly familiar person around in a hospital. Like cat and mouse.

And that's how chishiya ended up in a quieter, more intimate area. Middle of a hallway, near a set of tables and a vending machine. Usually, where loved one would sit weary-eyed and waiting for good news. You came to a halt, chishiya stopped. You turned around slowly, that sweet smile that made chishiya’s stomach feel weird (apart from the wounds.)

“You're following me.”

Something that would so usually sound like a question, was a statement. Because it was meant to be, because you knew he was from the beginning. You intended on it. Chishiya already likes you. And hell– your voice almost gave him whiplash, so silk and sweet. Echoing distantly in his head, like he's heard it a million times before.

“And you wanted me too,” chishiya replied coyly. His voice felt so scratching and his throat burned as he spoke, being without water and unconscious for too long. Shoving his hands in his pockets, leaning back slightly. Even half dead he must keep up his cool-guy image.

You didn’t reply, only a wider grin growing on your face. And chishiya found it hard to bite back one of his own. How so uncharacteristic of him – he felt so warm.

“Maybe.” you finally said.

Chishiya hummed, beginning to close the distance – one foot in front of another – between the two of you.

You watched him intently, chishiya knew it. Normally he’d perceive this as someone sizing him up, but your eyes told a different story as they trailed up his body. Something that'd make his ears hot and red.

“Meteor?” you asked, gesturing to his wounds. Chishiya nodded. “Me too.”

It was awkward for a moment, but not uncomfortable. The silence was deafening as if it wasn't meant for the two of you. Like there were so many words only on the tip of his tongue, words unsaid, words he didn’t even know – but they were begging to be spoken.

You were the first to break the silence, stepping closer. Now only 2 or 3 feet in front of him. “Have I, sorry, this is weird– but, have we met before? Like even passed each other on the streets.”

“Not to my knowledge.”

You hummed, looking around to avoid the intense eye contact that tugged you closer, and closer and–

“Would you like to know me?” chishiya said, his eyes not leaving yours. A weird sense of home lay in your eyes, chishiya was ready to jump fully in.

You tried to cover the eagerness in you, waiting a moment. Dramatically tapping a finger to your chin as you thought. “I think that’d be nice.”

Chishiyas lip quirked up, following yours.

He may not know you the way he feels, but he will.

He Did Everything Right (Hangman)

Pairing: Hangman x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: He did everything right this time, but somehow it still wasn't enough.

Warnings: Pure Angst, trauma, accident related trauma, implied though not described significant and traumatic injury, hurt,

Notes: Only read if you feel like having a good cry today.

Masterlists

“Styx!” Hangman wrenched at the ties holding him into his chute. All motor function and sense of hand-eye coordination was still falling through the sky, and all reason had left him. He was now blindly ripping at straps and bands and buckles without any rhyme or reason. 

He was mindless, frantic. There was one coherent thought going through his mind, and it wasn’t the years in the academy that had drilled calm, cool, and collected into him. It wasn’t the hundreds of simulations and drops he had done in training expressly in the event he ever found himself here. It wasn’t even anything in the F-18 handbook he’d memorized cover to cover.

‘Get to Styx.’

It repeated over and over again in his head. Rising in volume, rising in urgency. 

‘Get to Styx.’

‘Get to Styx.’

The only thought in his mind that wasn’t an incoherent scream. 

‘Get to Styx.’

Five minutes and a few thousand feet ago he’d been free falling through the air while disinterestedly thinking about all of the paperwork this systems malfunction meant he’d have to do. Five minutes and a few thousand feet ago, he was thinking about how long he’d have to sit in this field before a chopper from Top Gun could make it out here. Five minutes and a few thousand feet ago he thought it was odd Styx was waiting so long to pull her chute. 

‘Get to Styx.’

‘Get to Styx.’ 

‘Get to Styx.’

“Styx!” He roared, but still there was no response. 

In the distance, in the field on the other side of the rough, narrow road their plane had crashed on, Jake could see the remnants of a chute. A cloud of fabric billowing lightly in the breeze, daring any wind strong enough to come along and carry it away. There was something dark lying underneath. 

“Styx,” His voice broke at the same time as his bindings. Sheer determination and force of will finally tearing through a thick woven harness and setting him free. 

He stumbled his first few steps. He hadn’t been expecting the straps around his shoulders to give. His fingers couldn’t seem to undo the clip that was bent out of shape, couldn’t seem to free him from the trees and bushes his chute was tangled in. He had been putting his full weight against the straps the whole time, trying like a mad man to break free from their stranglehold. His mind was useless to think of anything else to do, and yet the moment it finally happened he wasn’t expecting it. 

“Styx!” Hangman scrambled to his feet. 

If there was any pain associated with the cuts on his hand from falling down or the deep bruises across his chest from pulling so hard, he didn’t feel it. 

“Styx!” He ran to the road and sent himself hurdling over the wire fence without a second thought. 

If there was any pain associated with the barbs tearing into his skin, he didn’t feel it. 

The parachute fluttered uselessly above her unresponsive body. As useless and in the way now as it had been while she was falling. He tore the fabric out of his way with ease, not bothering to watch as it was buffeted away.

It brought her face into his view, expressionless and sallow where it lay in the sun. 

It brought back a flash of her face, blurry from the distance and speed at which they fell, looking back at him panicking as she pulled a string that just wouldn’t budge.

He brushed the memory away. He couldn’t think about that. He couldn’t think about her. 

He had to think about Lerman, that asshole twit he’d been paired up with in all the field-med training seminars the Navy made him take. He had to picture Lerman playing dead on the ground, walking Jake through triage, faking injuries for him to accurately assess. 

He couldn’t see her. He had to see Lerman. If he wanted to help her, he had to pretend it wasn’t her he was helping. He had to focus. He couldn’t let his emotions get to him, couldn’t let himself have even a moment to see the person he cared about, the woman he loved, lying on the ground like that before him. He had to pretend it was Lerman.

For once in his life, Hangman did everything right. He tied a strap tight over her wounds to stop the bleeding. He performed textbook CPR. When help arrived, he had a description of the accident, an account of her injuries, estimates of timing, of how much blood she’d lost and how long she’d not been breathing. 

He did everything right. For once, he did it all right. No fucking around, no ego, no mistakes. 

The EMTs would praise his response and quick thinking. They’d say she was lucky to have him there. They told him that he did everything right, that he’d done everything they would’ve done. 

They said it was enough, and yet somehow he knew it wasn’t nearly. 

Her eyes peeled open over a week later to him asleep at her bedside. He hadn’t left her for a single moment. Not at his friend’s insistence, his family’s phone calls, his bunkmate’s texts. Not even Coyote had managed to pull him as far as the mess hall. 

He had to be there whenever she woke up. He had to be the one to tell her.

Deep down he knew it wasn’t his fault. He’d been cleared of any wrongdoing in the tragic accident before the plane even hit the ground. It was a fluke they said, a system malfunction that was unavoidable. They said he’d handled it as well, better even, than any other pilot could. They said he’d done everything right. 

He didn’t feel like he’d done everything right. He knew, in his heart, that there was nothing else to do. That he couldn’t have done anything differently. But he felt the weight on his chest, crushing him, suffocating him. He had to be the one to tell her. 

She would live, but she would never fly again. 

She put on a brave face, for his benefit. When the nurses came in and told her she was lucky, told her how gallantly Hangman had performed, she agreed. She told him he did everything right, that she didn’t blame him, that he did what he could. And he saw in her eyes that she meant it, but he saw the sadness in them too.

He made her a promise that day. A promise she didn’t ask for, a promise she asked him not to fulfill, a promise she knew was made for his benefit as much as hers.. 

No one else would ever fly in Hangman’s backseat again.