Lavender | Wakatoshi Ushijima

33 | Moonlight Depiction

Something felt wrong. Something in that instinctive gut of his echoed that something wasn't right. Something was off, wrong. And it scared him. Could he be running to find something wrong with her? God, is she safe? Is she alright? He didn't know because of that nagging feeling yelling otherwise. So, he ran faster. He held remembered her terrible condition at school, so he ran even faster.

He turned at the curb, reaching their usual route. He continued running.

The cold air cooled him off, trying to force the anxiety away.

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Tendō waved Hayato goodbye before closing the door and sitting on the couch. Ushijima had left around 5 minutes ago. He didn't talk to them, he only dashed out the door. Partially humiliated and guilty, he picked up his phone.

Kiyomi, change of plans.

What? Why?

He's going to talk to her. I don't know exactly why. Hayato and I told him to go and see why she won't talk to him and that he'll realize once he goes. God knows but he might just be going out for a run but I wouldn't be completely sure.

I hope he goes to her! But how does that affect the plan? I'm slow.

He's probably going to talk to her face-to-face.

That's also great. I just hope it goes well.

Me too.

Although, I am going to talk to her alone. She's being too quiet and I have free time the day before you leave. Coach is letting me off since you'll be practicing.

Today's his last chance since we're going to be busy with practice. He better not blow it.

He better not, you have the tournament just around the corner.

Exactly.

Let me know how it goes.

He went up to his room, catching up on the latest episode of his favorite TV show.

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Ushijima kept running, his breath white in the crisp air.

He knew he was unlovable. Someone so stoic, so quiet, so tall and emotionless, how could she love that? A lump of muscles and hidden emotions.
If she had all that beauty and intelligence, why would she love someone who needs her help that could burden her? Why? Why would she care for such a scarred person, with a soul so impure unlike hers?

He ran through the same cycle of thoughts over and over.

"Maybe that's why you haven't gone to talk to her yet, because you don't believe that she's in love with you."

He didn't know, but he wanted an answer. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted the knots in his stomach to untie.

He approached her house, through their old route. He subtly remembered the things she would say and talk about on their way there. The way her eyes closed when she laughed. The way her graceful hands always sat in front of her, with her two index fingers tracing shapes. The way she granted him comfort through one glance and one touch. He wished he could go back and fix this mess. If he just talks to her, he can leave for the tournament focused and content. He would mend everything, right now.