51 Different Sunsets (but It's Still You)

51 different sunsets (but it's still you)

notes: inspired by childhood blues - gumi <3

wc: ~1k

summary: it takes a silly rumor and 51 days for you to confess. - kuroo/oc

It starts with a rumor.

The first-year girls have been saying if you watch the sunset on the local hill for 51 days, your love will be reciprocated. You think high school is far too old to believe in something like this, but you think this sort of thing becomes necessary when your world has been colored in the shades Kuroo Tetsurou. You know it’s a silly rumor, but as you steal a glance at your best friend and see him catch your eyes and grin, you think you’ve fallen too hopelessly in love with him to not try.

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meanwhile I have 12345678+ fic prompts all revolving around angst dancing in my drafts.

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ABOUT ME !

howdy! I’m yin, 19, gmt +0, uk-based

current concern: doing hospital shifts as work for the next month

I write fanfiction; mainly oneshots & fics but I write hcs from time to time

I’m dry asf lol but please feel free to drop by and say hi!

TAG NAVI

📼: remix -> JJK; BNHA; HQ; AOT

📼: 💌asks -> asks from the inbox

📼: weewoo -> where I dont stfu 😝

📼: fav albums -> reblogs; content or art

— 🔜 to be played —

meet me under starlit skies | nanami kento

if fate permits, let me love you again | iwaizumi hajime

forever is a long time, but I’ll wait for you | geto suguru

for some stories are better off lived | bokuto koutarou

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

genre: angst, subtle mentions of death

an: sooo I haven’t written anything in a long while＼(￣▽￣)／ﾔｯﾀｰ! because fuck uni; consider this as a debut long piece on this blog. hope you liked it! (•̀ᴗ•́)و

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"Sensei, can I ask you something?”

Ears perked up upon hearing Itadori’s question, the sorcerer signals his student to go ahead. Having exchanged hushed whispers amongst his other two classmates, Sukuna’s vessel finally musters the courage to speak up. The tension reeking in the atmosphere alone is intense, heavy enough for Gojo to feel the weight of it upon his shoulders. 

“What is it, Yuuji-kun?”

“Have ... have you failed to save someone in the past?” 

With that, the white-haired male falls silent. Sunglasses dropped and mouth agape, he fails to answer his student’s question. Perhaps it is the oddity of the unexpected question itself which takes Gojo off guard, or the fact that the usual happy-go-lucky pink-haired teen comes up with such a heavy topic to talk about out of the blue. 

Yet neither of which is the root cause resulting in the sorcerer’s sudden loss of words. Little did Itadori and his classmates know, what sounds like a seemingly harmless inquiry about their teacher’s past soundlessly reopens a cicatrix deep within his heart, rekindling memories of his suppressed past that he wishes could be left behind. 

“Sensei? Are you okay?” 

The seconds tick by, but Gojo only responds with silence. 

Gaze boring deep into the ground and away from his beloved students, the sparkle in his cerulean eyes dwindling into a transient, dull flicker. Time heals all wounds, yet it is soon proven ineffective for him as the male reluctantly takes a trip down the dreaded memory lane, plunging headfirst into what Gojo deems the epitome of hell — his past, once more. 

Predestined to become a sorcerer since birth, the white-haired man already anticipated the multitude of obstacles he would face in time: instances when he teetered on a tightrope between life and death were of common knowledge, which he didn’t have a problem dealing with — being the strongest and all that. 

Yet the one thing Gojo despised the most throughout his arduous journey of becoming a sorcerer was the obligation to make decisions (while achieving the goal of pleasing the higher-ups) that even he grew tired of doing so. The jujutsu world was sickening to say the least. Ironically, being a prominent member of it all — while inheriting the title as the next heir of the Gojo clan at the same time, his life was inseparable from its overwhelming toxicity. All those useless elders who were all bark and no bite together with their old-fashioned beliefs made the young man utterly revolted to the core. And if he were given the chance to leave everything behind, Gojo would’ve had done so without hesitation. 

Trapped in this pernicious world where even breathing felt lethal, the optimism towards humanity’s salvation which once burned bright in the sorcerer’s heart like ardent flames had now receded into dying embers. The world was beyond his capability to be saved; in fact, those who were ready to be rescued constitutes a mere couple. 

Was everything I did really what the world needed right now? 

Would the choices I make be another regret of mine later in life? 

What is the point of surviving in a world like this? 

Wouldn’t death be of any difference?

Eventually, Gojo fails to seek for his resolve, no longer holding onto a reason why he should continue treading down the path of being a sorcerer. If the elders are that obstinate about changing the world is it currently is, then why should he? If all is doomed to perish in curses, would his forlorn efforts even make a difference to humanity’s inevitable demise? He doesn’t know about it anymore, nor does he care. Even with his six eyes, the future ahead becomes unprecedented; and bit by bit, Gojo finds himself sinking into a bottomless abyss. Dragged down by inexplicable displeasure towards the world revolving around him, his spirit is on the verge of extinction, sanity hanging precariously by a thread. 

Sinking, he slowly embraces the darkness in his awaiting path.

Except that you are there to guide him out of the mist just as he is about to lose sight of his true self. 

Akin to a lighthouse illumining the infinite murkiness corrupting his heart, you lead him back into the light. What feels like doom and gloom suffocating his entirety suddenly dissipates into thin air the instant you wander into his life by coincidence. 

The memory of meeting you for the first time resurfaces in Gojo’s mind every now and then, as if all of which happened yesterday. Upon returning from an easy mission, the sorcerer mindlessly meandered through a labyrinth of streets and alleyways; night drew into Shinjuku, and the remnants of copper hues from the horizon were gradually replaced by a myriad of neon colours. Eyes averted onto scintillating lights in the distance, Gojo found his gaze lost in an opaque blur. 

Was this how the world was supposed to look like in the first place? Why was it within this decaying world that people still managed to smile? Weren’t they afraid of dying —

Just then, a young woman caught the sorcerer’s stare. The first thing he noticed was her outfit; sorcerers were rare even in the modern era, not to mention meeting one by chance on the streets could be considered a once-in-a-blue-moon phenomenon. For Gojo to coincidentally cross paths with another one of his kind, he certainly wasn’t expecting that. Nevertheless, what surprised him the most was her words to him the second she sauntered past. 

“You’re lost, aren’t you?” 

Despite how most people around him thought of his behaviours as being melodramatic, Gojo Satoru wasn’t a particularly expressive individual. With the weight of the world weighing upon his shoulders, he mastered the ability to mask his emotions — regardless of the overwhelming urge for him to let it all out. With time, the male forced himself to numb away his feelings. Nobody had ever been able to read him like an open book, so why could you? 

“How —“

“I can see it in your eyes.” Breathing out a heavy sigh, you rested a hand on his arm. As your fingers conjured patterns on his skin, an unexplainable seep of warmth flooded through his veins; unveiling his walls, you soon perceived what seemed like his inner core: decaying into nothingness, almost lifeless, the vermilion walls which were once of a bright crimson fading into maroon —almost ashen. It was no wonder why the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth looked so dead on the inside. 

He was indeed dying, and you were determined to save him no matter the cost. 

“I know how you feel, trust me. I’ve gone through that same phase where I’m so fed up with my job as a sorcerer ... it feels like no matter what I do, it would be of no avail. It’s vexing, not to mention a huge pain in the ass. But I just grit my teeth and move on. The reason I’m still a sorcerer now is simple: to live for another day, where I could see the sunset.” 

“Huh?” 

“W-what I mean is, instead of worrying about a future that is out of your control, why don’t you focus on the present? That way, you might find a little motivation to make it through every day.” Albeit confused as to why you would go out of your way to help a stranger like him, a smile made its way to replace the apparent crease on Gojo’s face. 

“Thank you ...?” 

“y/n, y/n l/n — Grade 1 sorcerer. Nice to meet you, Gojo Satoru.” 

“The pleasure is mine.”

Gratefully, he expressed his gratitude — to which you responded with a smile. It wasn’t simply a grin, it was one that would warm the cockles of his heart. Of all the people he met, most masked their ugly intentions beneath the disguise of feigned kindness; people disgusted him, but your simper was genuine. For once, he felt peace within his heart. And just like you said, he would try to hold onto something tangible — a minuscule drive that would help him go through what felt like a torturous infinity. 

You. 

Had you not reached out to him, Gojo would’ve had gone astray from his primary goal; had you not broken down the walls he’d built, he wouldn’t make it through to another day; had you not crossed paths with him, the sorcerer wouldn’t know what to do with the rest of his life in a world he oh so despised. Your presence reminded him that he was never alone to start with, that no matter how tired, helpless or dire whatever situation he might be in, there would always be someone he could rely on. 

At least for now, the male would continue his battle. 

For the sake of humanity, and to see you for one more day. 

“Anyway, do you have any plans for the day?”

“I’m going to watch the sunset. Want to come?” 

“Why not?” 

Yet not every fairy tale began with once upon a time, and not every anecdote would come to a perfect close with happy-ever-afters. 

By the time Gojo rushed to the location which you’d last sent him for backup, you were already lying in a pool of blood, the curse you were supposed to exorcise being out of plain sight. His heart sank in utter despair; and unable to hold back surging waves of emotions, tears started to fall down the sides of the sorcerer’s cheeks as he rushed to you as fast as his legs could carry him. 

“y/n ... y/n! Stay with me ... I’ll call Shoko to come over in a sec.” Feeling desperate nudges on your shoulder and tears falling onto your ashen cheeks, your eyelashes fluttered with a hearty effort, earning a relief sigh from Gojo. 

“Thank goodness ... fuck, I was so scared for a moment ya know? Just stay awake, okay? I promise everything would be alright —“

“Satoru ... I’m glad you’re here ...” 

The sight alone made his heart wrench. Like a wilting flower, your life was slipping away soundlessly in his palms, and there was nothing he could do other than holding you in close proximity. The faltering palpitation of your pulse, the shallow breaths that dwindled to a trickle, the expanse of grey fading into carmine as you laid motionless on the icy concrete, your hollow gaze meeting his harrowing ones as tears were spilled endlessly. 

Gojo berated himself immensely, for not rushing to your aid as soon as possible — especially when the tragedy could’ve had been avoided, for being incapable of saving you from death’s door — unlike how you had rescued him back then, and for everything he owed you. Even as you flashed a faint grin at the distressed sorcerer, reminding him not to take the blame on his own, there was no way the male would forgive himself for something like this. 

Even if he had all the power in the world, what would be the meaning of all this  — when he couldn’t even save the one person he cared about the most?

"y/n ... I’m so sorry ...” A tinge of rawness laced with belated regret etched the back of Gojo’s throat whilst he croaked out his apology. 

“It’s never your fault, dummy ...” Reaching out your trembling hands, you weakly poke him on the cheek. Hearing this only made the sorcerer weep even harder, his grip on you tightening. His uniform was ensanguined with your blood, yet Gojo couldn’t care less about that at this moment. 

At this point, his only wish was to hold you in his arms for one more time. 

“Satoru ...”

“Yes?” The sorcerer sniffled through tears. 

“I want you to watch the sunset ... promise?” 

“It ... it would never be the same without you! No ... no way would I —“ He was about to protest when you shakily placed a finger to his lips. 

“Pl ... please.” 

Silence canopied the two of you like a blanket. 

“Wherever you are, I would always be there ... watching the sunset with you. Jus’ promise me ... this one last thing, ‘kay?” 

And with a heavy heart, Gojo nodded begrudgingly. 

“Live on ... and I love you, dummy.”

Smiling at him for the last time, you exhaled your last breath of air, passing away peacefully in the male’s trembling arms. Dazzling rays of the setting sun shone across the skyline, emanating its balmy radiance. Yet the sorcerer didn’t feel the same warmth from the sun as before. To him, its rays reached him, but they ceased to save Gojo from the tenebrosity of his heart. Your passing felt like a mighty rip from a page in his life; and without you, he was this close to giving up. 

Gojo Satoru was alive and breathing, yet this was the day when his heart died. 

Along with you. 

“Sensei, are—are you alright?” Concerned inquiries from his students snap the white-haired sorcerer back into reality. Adjusting his sunglasses and choking back a sob, he manages to give Itadori his long-awaited response. 

“... of course I have.” Gojo’s voice lowers to what feels like a hoarse, pained whisper. “Even the strongest sorcerer cannot save anyone. There is no way time can be rewound ... but all we can do is to live, for the sake of those who love and care immensely for us. Remember that, kids.” 

With that, he leaves the room, leaving the three first-years utterly speechless as they start to discuss how this is a brand new face of Gojo in which they have never discovered in the past — only curious as to why he is showing this side of himself now. 

As the saying goes — the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

Yet for Gojo Satoru, the path to him becoming the strongest sorcerer of all time started with the agony of goodbye.

pairing: miya atsumu x reader

genre: angst, post break-up

soundtrack: 飛鳥和蟬

an: I don’t think I’ll be writing haikyuu for a while but this idea whacks me in the head every now and then sooo (❍ᴥ❍ʋ)

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The wind blows, and life goes on. 

The sky fades into a myriad of periwinkles and peaches, complementing an expanse of miscanthus stretching beyond the horizon which sways in the salt-kissed sunset breeze. The scenery alone would be ethereal, have it not been viewed through the hollow, doe periphery of a heartbroken blonde. As Atsumu finds himself staring into the distance, the corners of his eyes are eventually glassed with a film of tears whilst his trembling fingers tumble with a dull bracelet.

1. “Tsumu! Where are you? I thought we were supposed to go on a date at the amusement park today?” 

“Damn it — sorry babe! Practice calls, and it seems like our coach isn’t planning on letting us leave any time soon. I’ll make it up to ya next time okay?” Before you could even protest, your boyfriend hung up on the call. Dismay would had been an understatement to describe how you felt at that moment: conflict, chagrin, despondence — all of which bloomed like buds deep within. 

This wasn’t the first time Atsumu called off a date at the last minute, and needless to say, you weren’t pleased at all with his actions. However, in spite of the seething frustration that bubbled in your chest every time he did this to you, you reminded yourself to remain calm. You could never bring yourself to hate the blonde (or at least for now). Volleyball was a prominent part of his life, but so were you. You understood how important the sport was to Atsumu, yet with the saying being “it’s every man for himself”, a teeny bit of you hoped that he could choose his girlfriend over practice. 

And with a heavy heart, you chose to put those feelings aside. After all, being his partner, shouldn’t you be unconditionally supporting Atsumu in all of his endeavours? 

With the place feeling like dejá vu, it brings back faded recollections the male wishes to hold onto before they slip past his fingertips. Bit by bit, shattered fragments gradually piece themselves together, creating visages of what Atsumu would deem as his ‘sweet old days’ that he yearns to relish. Moments of you and him lying on the hill’s summit staring as remnants of tangerine and gold bask the skyline, the two of you excitedly talking about what a shared future would’ve been like, the giggles and incessant bickering that reverberate in the air like chimes whilst both of you dance under a doom of shimmering starlight — all of them come back to his mind one by one.

2. “I’m sorry y/n! I — I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend, but I’m willing to change ok? I promise I’ll spend more time with you once interhigh competitions come to an end. Please ... just wait for a little longer.” 

Evident disappointment was written all over your face, and the sinking feeling that had been bugging you did nothing — but only grew stronger once you heard Atsumu’s explanation. Nevertheless, a strained grin creased your face; you simply chortled it off, reminding the blonde that it’s alright and he should focus on his volleyball competitions for the time being with a simple “Alright ... I’ll wait, Tsumu”.

To be frank, you didn’t know how long you could wait. Atsumu had been using the same reason over and over; and if you had to be honest with yourself, you were long sick of his behaviour. Of all the countless opportunities you gave your boyfriend, it felt like he took them for granted — never learning his lessons despite being forgiven repeatedly without a single complaint uttered from none other than his girlfriend. 

And if he wasn’t the one to treasure the present, to cherish the bonds made and the selfless commitments devoted by you into the relationship, then why should you give him another second chance?

Twilight beckons, and a tear slips down Atsumu’s face in melancholic tranquility. Those could be called the happiest days of his entire life. Reminiscences of your smile, your touch and your laughter have long been engrained into his head, taking him on a trip down the memory lane as he thinks about you every now and then. How are you doing? Have you found someone else to replace his place in your heart? Would your mind still wander off to him? The questions throb at the back of his mind, akin to a persistent toothache. Still, the blonde knows this more than anyone else. 

No matter how tormenting his regret could be, there was no way he could turn back time and make things work again. Not when the damage is done and the pain of your breakup with Atsumu still stabs him in the heart even after all these years. 

In hindsight, maybe this is a lesson meant for him to learn. Perhaps he should’ve been a better lover, devoting more time into the relationship with you instead of spending most of it on volleyball. If he had prioritised you over his passion, could the heartbreak be avoided? If he had treasured his blessings, would the cicatrix in his heart remain, acting as a grim reminder of his past mistakes? In all honesty, Atsumu don’t know. It is already too late for redemption by the time the blonde opens his eyes and realises what he has done to you. Yet one thing is for sure — he shouldn’t have taken all of this for granted. 

3. “I ... I don’t think this is going to work between the two of us, Tsumu.” Mustering the remaining strength you got, you decided to confront the blonde setter on a certain day. “I think ... it’s better if we end this relationship.” 

To him, your confrontation bore no resemblance to a nightmare. Deafening silence lingered, wrapping its ghostly tendrils around the blonde’s neck as the grasp around Atsumu tightened with each second. Confusion wouldn’t suffice to describe the hurricane of emotions which stirred havoc inside him. Weren’t the two of you head over heels for one another a couple of months prior? What went wrong? 

Happiness is, and would never be everlasting — he should’ve known that very well. Atsumu should’ve caught onto the subtle signs that set off warning bells inside his head: the chaste glances, the sudden coldness laced within your tone each time you talk, the increasing distance between you and him as the months fly by. Yet the setter is naive to say the least, failing to discern how circumstances are on the verge of spiralling down a bad turn. 

4. “Wait! I ... I don’t understand. Why ... y/n?” 

Your heart clenched as you heard the desperation in Atsumu’s plea, eyes evading his shocked stare; you had made up your mind, and there was no way you would be turning back. It was excruciating for things to end this way, but you had no choice. Enough was enough, you were long exhausted of this one-sided romance. 

“Tsumu, I’ve had enough.” You gritted out the statement, trying your best to hold back the tears that were threatening to burst from your waterline. “Love should be mutual, and both partners should play an equal role in the relationship by devoting the same amount of time and effort into making all of this work. But is this the case between you and me?”

Instantly, Atsumu fell silent. 

“For all these months I’ve endured and endured, giving my everything in a forlorn hope that our relationship would still work. I’ve given many second chances, trying to support you with everything I’ve got. But have you? Have you did anything for me in return?” Your voice began to crack, recalling how you used to sob into your pillow in the middle of the night when the blonde only cares about volleyball instead of you. 

“Not everyone is willing to give a second chance ... and not everyone is willing to wait for a lifetime.” 

And that was the last thing Atsumu heard before you were completely gone from his life.  

A whistle in the wind pulls the blonde back into reality. As his puffy sorrel eyes interlock with the empyrean, the heart-wenching memories dissipate within an instant — followed by an exasperated sigh while Atsumu wipes falling tears off his stained cheeks. 

“I must’ve been a fool ...” He begin, confessions filled with none other than inexplicable lament muttered under his breath. A multitude of constellations greet his vision; blinking and winking down at the blonde, a cynical grin is all Atsumu can manage. For once, the night sky illumined with an infinite milky belt doesn’t look so empty; at least not so — when compared to the tenebrosity of the void deep within the blonde’s heart. It reminds him of the things he had lost, the mistakes he made, and what could’ve had been a beautiful future with you had he not been the culprit who ruined it all. 

“To not cherish such an amazing girlfriend, that’s so stupid of me — ugh ... why is it that we learn the pain of losing something important, when its too late for regrets? Stupid ... so stupid ...” 

The wind blows, and life goes on. 

The only thing Atsumu wished that hadn’t gone along with the breeze, albeit painful to hold onto, was his recollections with you. 

It’s so hot rn so i doodled the msby babies