Akira Kurusu x Reader Oneshots

hhhhhhhhhh angst? but im not good at angst,,,,,,,,,,

Somehow, I wound up here. Again. No, I shouldn't be surprised. After all, I made the conscious decision to come here, right? Actually, after a while, the walk became less and less conscious and more and more, well, not. It was like my feet had grown so used to the path that they didn't know how to take me anywhere else. I sighed, sticking my hands into the thick jacket that hung from my shoulders. Always a size too big, though I'd never say. 

"You never bring a jacket. You'll freeze to death out there—are you trying to impress someone?" 

The winter months snuck up on you in Japan. I gazed down at the snow-covered grave. Old but still so new in my mind. Where I had grown old, she had not. Once again, I was desperately aware of the familiar feeling of the cigarette box against my fingertips. I itched for a long drag to calm the feelings inside me. Her voice came back to me, taunting me. 

"Kurusu, what have I told you about smoking?" 

I bit my lip and withdrew my hands from my pockets to lessen the urge. The cold found my skin and nipped at it, a sensation I'd grown to like more. Makoto insisted that I not visit today. She didn't understand. It wasn't that easy to just forget about someone like that. 

"How many times have I told you not to worry over me? Move on, idiot."

Her reluctant smile clouded my mind. I crouched down. My knees grew cold and wet, the snow seeping through the fabric. I paid it no mind. I'd join her soon. The flowers in front of the grave were long dead. It didn't matter how many times I replaced them--winter was unforgiving. Then again, they could've just been dying from a dead woman's spite. 

"I... I told you not to bring me flowers. I can't take care of the damn things." 

I reached out and brushed some snow off the name. (Y/N) (L/N). 

"Don't you think it's about time one of our names changed? I, for one, like (L/N) much more than Kurusu."

I squeezed my eyes shut. I was tired. So, so tired. Of waiting. It had never been the same after her. Time moved on but somehow I couldn't. The people I once considered close--people I couldn't go a day without talking to--transformed into strangers with familiar faces. I made no effort to reach out to them, and they gave me the same courtesy, excluding the younger Niijima. Every now and then, she'd check on me. Like it even mattered anymore. 

"I miss you." I whispered, my voice sounding raspy and unfamiliar even to me. "I..." I withdrew my hand from the cold stone, unable to take it. The lighter was in my hands before I could process it and smoke pooled from my cracked lips. It rose into the sky, warming my pink nose. I gave a humorless laugh. "A bit rude of you to leave me here so abruptly, you know." I shook my head. I tried to joke like I used to. She loved my stupid jokes. 

"Ridiculous. That's what you are." 

I raised my head in confusion. This time the voice sounded louder. Atop the grave sat a young, primly-dressed woman, a scornful look contorting her features. My eyes widened and the cigarette fell from my lips, leaving a small imprint in the snow. "I suppose there's no point in telling you to move on now, considering there isn't much 'now' left. But..." she trailed off and gave me an exasperated smile. "At least try to have some fun in your last moments, will you? For me?" 

I pursed my lips. "You're not real. Get out of my head, (Y/N)." I tried to be mad at her. But then again, I never could be mad at her. She sighed, pushing off of her grave and standing before me. Her hands found my face and I leaned into the touch, only to feel nothing. I gritted my teeth in frustration. Her face was filled with sympathy.