Daisuga One Shots

Six years old

"Suga ? Please... Can you come over ?

- Daichi ? What is happening ? Are you ok ?

- I... I need you. Please come here.

- I'm already on my way."

I was lost. I was completely lost. My whole world was collapsing, and Suga, my best friend, was the only steady thing left. I sat on my bed, feeling really strange. It was like I wasn't sad yet, just lost. Everything was blurry. I couldn't even cry. I couldn't even believe what was happening. People say it is the first step. When you are so shocked that you are in denial. These are the words I thought back then. When, ironically, I was completely overwhelmed by denial. The thing is, I wasn't even able to realize that I was denying it. I just needed to stop the time. I needed to pause my life, to take a break. And I needed a hug.

I let my head lay on my bed, sighing, staring at the ceiling. I heard a knock at the door of my bedroom. I cleared my throat, but before I could say anything, it opened vehemently on a young silver-haired man, panting and looking completely panicked. He was here. My best friend. The only steady thing left in my life.

"Daichi ? Tell me what is happening ! I saw the ambulance in front of your house !"

I straightened up, looking at his eyes. I couldn't answer. I was feeling weak. I was feeling vulnerable. I should've answered with a very simple sentence.

My father is dead.

But I couldn't say it. The words were resonating in my head, repeating again and again. It was like my brain couldn't realize how heavy they were, but my mouth could. He was looking at me, concerned. I knew he was feeling like something bad had happened. 

"Daichi ? Daichi answer me ! Are you ok ? Daichi ? DAICHI !"

He was panicking. Why was he panicking ? I was anaesthetised. I was numb. He took a deep breath and crouched in front of me. His face became more accomodating, more friendly, softer. He whispered : "Daichi, I'm so worried right now, tell me what happened."

I blinked, and I realized. I finally realized. I began to suffocate, widening my eyes. A tear fell down on my cheek as I felt like a dumbell had been put in my stomach. He looked astonished. It was the first time he ever saw me cry.

"Oh, no, no, no..." he said motherly. "Oh Daichi, why are you crying ?"

He sat next to me and pressed my head against his chest. I couldn't help but sob even more. Here it was. The sadness was finally here. He kept hugging me, and I finally put my arms around his shoulders. It felt good. It was like finding the last flower in a burnt meadow. After a while, I began to calm down a bit, my cheek still resting on his shoulder. He was gently rocking me back and forth, and for a second I felt like I was five again. I tried to tell him, but all I did was stutter. 

"Suga... I... My father... He... He's..."

My throat was tied. I couldn't finish my sentence. But he understood and held me tight.

"I am sorry, Daichi. I'm so, so sad for you... You don't deserve to experience this..." 

I escaped his arms and laid down on my bed. I couldn't think properly. He laid next to me and said :

"I'll be there for you. Whenever you need me, wherever you are, I'll spend as much time as you need comforting you, lifting you up, or doing anything I can possibly do in order to make you feel better."

Maybe it was at this moment that I fell in love with him. No, I already was. But I realized it that day.

He tried to make me talk a bit about how I was feeling, and I honestly tried to cooperate. But things were too intense, and I couldn't say three coherent words in a row. He remained patient with me. I don't know how people usually react to this kind of news, but I think he had one of the best reactions. Almost two hours later, he had to go back to his house. Before leaving, he put a delicate kiss on my forehead, even though he has always been a bit shorter than me. He made me feel really supported.

But the worst part wasn't over yet. I didn't think planning a funeral would be that exhausting and that difficult. My mother and I had to plan every single detail, to call every member of the family, et cetera, et cetera. I kept thinking about her. My mom was trying to keep a straight face, in order to seem strong, in a "fake it until you make it" behaviour. But I knew she was crying every night over her regretted husband. I knew deep down she was suffering more than me. To be honest, I can't imagine what it is to lose the person you loved all your life, the person you married, the person you loved the most in the world. I admire her. I don't know if I could face it. 

The funeral was three days later. Sadness hit me like a baseball bat. I felt so lonely. I wanted everybody to leave me alone, but I also wanted to feel surrounded at the same time. And I hated myself for this. When my mom and I came back home, I saw Suga sitting on the stairs in front of the front door. It was pouring, and his hair was wet, falling on his forehead and cheeks. He wasn't invited to the funeral, since he wasn't a member of the family. When I got out of the car, he lifted up his head and looked at me, smiling sadly. I walked towards him and he stood up. We didn't say any word. We were communicating with our eyes, with our thoughts, with our faces, with our bodies. Words were superfluous. My mom invited him in and we spent the afternoon in my room, just talking about anything. 

Suga really tried to cheer me up. He was making jokes, being a bit goofy, and also was gentle, comprehensive, supportive and loving. He made me smile many times that afternoon. He told me this thing, that I will always remember :

"I'm not trying to make you forget your pain. I'm just trying to make you feel other things, so you can realize your pain is normal, and that you don't have to hate yourself for being sad."

And this moment was purely magical. It was somehow really good, even though I was depressed. It was really simple, yet so memorable. I think it's the kind of feeling that we can call "bittersweet". Like when you are in the middle of a crippling depression, but somehow having the best time of your life. We were sitting on the floor of my room, eating skittles and talking about our lives. He began to flirt with me, but I thought it was just to make me smile. Which I did. We laughed, eating and taking life the easiest way. We were enjoying the moment. The best way to describe the atmosphere is maybe to say that we felt like we were two children, innocently playing. Even though we were seventeen, we were six years old that afternoon. We were six years old, and we weren't afraid to face the world and its evil dragons. 

We were six years old, and I was beautifully in pain.

We were six years old, and we were painfully in love.

I hope you liked this OS. This one is really personnal, since it's a tribute to my dad, who passed away a year ago. I really felt these things I wrote, and I wanted to say things the way I experienced them. Next one will certainly be more cheerful. Take care of yourself.

Je t'aime, Papa.