𝑺𝑶𝑼𝑲𝑶𝑲𝑼- 𝑾𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝑴𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝑨𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏 ❥

Rushed Confessions ❃

Chuuya's POV:
I felt a small buzz in my pocket. What does Kouyou want now? I thought, as I quickly ran my hand through the side pocket of my coat until I felt the familiar shape of my phone. I pulled it out and glanced at the contact name displayed on the screen.

-Uglybandagefreak-

Oh. It was Dazai. My heart skipped a beat as I opened the message, a mix of anticipation and dread tightening in my chest.

"Want to meet up at the park sometime? You know, catch up??
"

I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. What kind of stunt was this freak planning to pull this time? I couldn't deny the flutter in my stomach at the thought of seeing him again. Despite everything, I missed him more than I cared to admit. Every time we met, my heart would race uncontrollably, a testament to the hold he still had on me.

I typed out a reply, my emotions conflicting within me.

"Hmm? What's wrong with Kuni- whatever his name is?"

As I sent the message, I noticed that Dazai was already typing. The grip on my phone tightened, and I found myself leaning against a pillar on the platform. The sounds of the bustling station faded into the background as I focused solely on my phone.

I missed him. I missed him so much that it hurt. Each memory we had together played on a loop in my mind, a bittersweet reminder of what once was. The familiar vibration in my hand snapped me back to the present.

"Don't worry about him, I just want some freedom for once, sooooo what do you say
"

I cringed slightly at the overly enthusiastic tone of his message. It was odd for Dazai to suddenly text me just to talk about "freedom." Something didn't feel right, but my curiosity—and perhaps a deeper longing—got the better of me.

I sighed and began to type.

"Fine, we can meet up. But where?"

His response was almost immediate. A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth before my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. I was in public, standing on a crowded train platform, and here I was, blushing like a teenager. I quickly pocketed my phone, deciding to check his reply once I was on the train. Missing it and having to wait for the next one would only add to my frustration.

The train arrived with a rush of air, and I boarded, finding a seat near the window. I stared outside as the cityscape blurred past, my mind racing. Why now, after all this time? The tension between us had always been palpable, a mix of unresolved emotions and unspoken words. Part of me wanted to confront him, to demand answers for the years of silence and the hurt that lingered beneath my calm exterior.

Settling into my seat, I took a deep breath and pulled out my phone again. His reply waited for me, a small piece of him reaching out across the digital divide. I opened the message, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Let's meet at the park near the old bookstore, tomorrow at 3 PM. Can't wait to see you! :)"

I stared at the screen, the familiar pang of sadness mixing with a glimmer of excitement. The park near the old bookstore held so many memories. It was where we used to hang out, back when things were simpler. Back when we were friends—perhaps more than friends, though neither of us had ever said it out loud.

Memories of our past washed over me, tinged with both warmth and regret. I remembered the way he used to tease me, his laughter echoing through the air, and the way his eyes softened during rare moments of sincerity. I remembered the arguments, the hurtful words that cut deep, and the silence that followed.

As the train rocked gently, I leaned my head against the window, closing my eyes. The rhythmic clattering of the tracks matched the beat of my heart, both steady and chaotic. I couldn't shake the feeling of unease. This meeting could either heal old wounds or rip them open anew. The uncertainty was maddening.