Async (Ryuichi Sakamoto x Reader)

1983 : The Truth

(Around July to August) [TW// Self harm, attempts on suicide]

~Your P.O.V~
The year's been flying fast. At ninth yesterday, we celebrated Hosono-san's birthday. Sensei bought a pair of cards and asked me if I wanted to give them as twinsies gift. I had to be a party poop because I already bought bass strings. I know it's unnecessary but I wanted to give the same appreciation with a fellow bassist. I apologized to sensei but I did put my name on his card. Glad that Hosono-san likes our gifts.

Even though there are a lot of good things happening around me, the thought of being homesick and my stupid feelings to sensei are slowly killing me. The red lines on my arm are mostly dried out and some of them left a mark. I hate to admit that I'm addicted to the pain and I ever thought if I can have a thousand marks from them.

The near thousand knives are like tally marks on my unsuccessful attempts. Either it's around the house or any place sensei and I went. I thought it would be quick if I use the kitchen knife without Akiko-san kept asking me where I hid or took it. I once found a perfect length tie. I tied the small end on my window but when I got back, it was gone. I suspect that either Akiko-san or sensei took it from my room. I never took it again since.

Attempts outside the house were also a fail. I thought if I can get a car hit me again, I would go back in the same way I got here but sensei always pull me back to safety. I wonder why he didn't get hit instead of me, to know that he risked his life too to avoid losing mine. And in various studios, I would try to find something to get me back in extreme measures. But in the end, red tally marks all over my arm are my only successful try. I'll never get back soon and I'm starting to run out of space.

I locked myself again in the bathroom and this time I won't be bothered since everyone is busy with themselves. I brought the cutter along and like my first attempt, I turned on the tap and closed the drain, letting the water fill the sink. I cut much deeper and I let the water turned red. It stings a little when the water touched the cut.

Then I heard the knob rattle, someone's trying to come in. "Occupied!" I shouted. "(y/n)-chan? Are you in there?" crap! It's sensei. "Y-yeah! I'm still using it." I tried to make him leave. "What are you doing in there? Why is the door locked?" I didn't want to answer. He turned the knob again while pushing the door, forcing it to open. "Please open the door, (y/n)-chan!" he worriedly shouted then the door was opened by force.

"(y/n)-chan!" he ran and pulled my hands out from the sink. "What were you thinking?" his voice was between angry and confused. He grabbed a cloth and tied my wrists together. He unplugged the drain and turned on the tap to wash off the blood from the sink. "Wait in your room." Sensei ordered and I walked back with the cloth still tied. I sat down and carefully freed one of my hand. "Guess it stopped..." I said to myself.

"Alright, let me see..." sensei came in with a roll of bandage and clean cottons. I gave my hands and he carefully wiped them then bandaged them. "Is it too tight?" he asked and I shook my head. He secured the wrap then asked, "Why did you do that?". "I just want to go home." I sobbed. "You need to apply first. You can't just—". "You don't understand!" I cut him off. "What do you mean?" I grabbed my bag and showed him the ticket. "What's this?"

"It's a concert ticket of you three, forty years later." He didn't seem to believe me. "Are you messing with me?". "No, I'm not! I'm telling the truth. I'm not from this era." Then I explained what happened that day and the ticket, "You three held a concert the day before and I watched with my friends. It was my first concert of you although I barely know you. I've been keeping it with me ever since to remember the day. Or to remind myself where I'm really from in this condition." I softly smiled to myself.

"Why did you ask to work for me?" he asked and I let out a chuckle. "My friend and I made a stupid bet after the concert if one of us can go back in time to be your student when you were younger. Like right now." I explained. "I... I understand if you want me to leave.". "Why do I want you to leave?" his response surprised me. "If you leave then where will you stay? I didn't want to believe you at first but this ticket, I don't think our computer can be this sophisticated." He joked about the last part. "I'm sure one day you'll find your way home and until then, you're still my assistant and student." He gave me a reassuring smile.