Chapter Text
It would be pretentious to ask when things came to this.
Because Yoimiya knows when. She always knew. She’s perceptive as perceptive goes, after all.
But how she wished she wasn’t. Because this isn't what she wanted. Nor is it what he promised her when he asked her to be his almost six years ago.
They were barely over with their childhood then. She was a third year in high school and he was in his second year at the university. And she thought it was all just for fun and giggles to play with these senpais in a game of truth or dare.
Typical high school shenanigans, right?
But apparently, the both of them have been serious enough to keep at it for five years, six months and two days. That’s what he would always say to tease her. That’s how long he was in love with her, he says.
Until today.
Today.. that five years, six months and two days seemed too long. Too tiresome. Too much.
"What are you trying to do here, Ayato?"
Yoimiya demanded as she sat beside him on the first couch that they purchased after moving in together. It's small, quaint and just enough to fit the two of them really.
With his long frame, he was never able to lay on this couch without having to curl up on himself but he would still drag her and somehow make the two of them fit the small space. A memory that almost made her cackle upon remembering. If they weren't in this predicament, she probably did already.
"What am I doing? Uh, burning through my second stick? I promise it’ll be the last one for today, babe."
He chided, the corner of his lips tugging up to form a silent yet condescending smirk. A habit she thought he already grew out of from highschool.
Yoimiya took what seemed to be her thousandth deep breath of the day. She let a few quiet seconds pass by through them. Only then did she realize the stark contrast of the noise they made when they first moved into this small apartment to the silence that filled its walls now.
It was just over a year ago. She was in her second year in college and he was graduating when he opened the notion.
“Miya, come here.”
The marine-haired man gestured for her to come closer, grinning as she took the opportunity to straddle his lap. She owned the spot after all.
Ayato only rolled his eyes at how cheeky she was.
“Yes, senpai?”
Yoimiya purred, and hearing the older’s heavy giggles was enough to make her grin with pride.
“You are such a tease. Really. You’re starting to overshadow me in that area. Where did my cute little kouhai go? Just what would your brother say to me now? He’d think I’m a bad influence on you.”
He commented, leaning in to kiss her lips with fervor before pulling away with her lower one between his teeth. Yoimiya grunted lightly at the action.
“You are a bad influence. I’ll tell Ayaka on you, too.”
She teased, giggling heartily at the face he made.
“Mhm, alright. Anyway, I’ve been thinking, Miya. Since starting next year, my office is closer to your university, do you want to like.. move in together? I’m already getting a place near your place anyway so, I just think it’ll be much better if we just stay in one ap–”
His eyes grew wide mostly in surprise when Yoimiya grabbed his face haphazardly only to press her lips on his before he could finish his offer. He eased into the kiss and chuckled lightly when he heard her sniffling. She’s crying again.
“Yes, yes. I’d love that! Let’s do that. I love you.”
She hurriedly spoke. As if not agreeing quick enough would make him take back the offer.
Ayato tucked her strawberry blonde fringes back and nodded his head firmly. He held her face and pressed a kiss against her cheek, wiping the small tears that stained them.
“And I love you, crybaby.”
Still without a word, her eyes glossed over whatever they could find. Like etching them to memory. As if they were bound to fade to oblivion sooner rather than later if she didn't.
The one year in this small two-bedroom apartment had been nothing but great. The two of them truly made it their home. In all the sense of the word.
On one side is a trellis of all the plants that Yoimiya cultivated over time. She remembers Ayato complaining about how the place is going to be a forest if she doesn’t stop adding more plants to it. She did stop. Some of the smaller ones are already shriveling up from the lack of attention from her the past few weeks.
By the large floor-to-ceiling glass window is the door leading to a smaller room that they somehow turned into their shared home office. He’d spent so many nights asleep against his table, his head buried under the countless stacks of papers he was supposed to finish going through. And Yoimiya would always bring him coffee in the dead of night. She always did know how to make coffee that suited his sensitive taste.
Beside the kitchen island, a small aquarium with a few goldfishes was placed on the shelf. Over the course of the twelve months they shared in this home, two of their fishes died and Ayato had always held her when she cried for them, never judging and only tenderly receiving her grief. Yoimiya, when she loves, loves really hard. He always knew that.
Yoimiya liked cooking. Although she could barely juggle her time from all the practicals she had to do for school, she still sees to it that she at least gets to cook one meal for him. Lazy weekends are always the best where the kitchen serves another purpose than for cooking, her fingers digging into the edge of the white countertops while he was buried deep within her, moaning each other’s names into the chilly morning air.
Yoimiya’s eyes went back to him when she heard him curse. Her trance cut short just like that. He was looking at his phone, scrolling through it with a bored expression on his face.
“Ah. The boss asked me to go downtown for dinner. Can’t we just have this talk tomorrow? I’m not really in the mood for this.”
Ayato spoke with nonchalance, looking into Yoimiya as if he never really considered if she agreed or not.
The look of hurt fresh on her face almost made him falter. Almost made him want to just hold her and beg for forgiveness right then and there.
But he simply can’t.
He has already made up his mind.
This is for the better.
She’ll be happier this way.
She deserves so much more.
For Yoimiya,, what felt like the end came a month ago.
She would know because Kamisato Ayato is the worst at hiding. That or maybe he never did try to hide.
Nonetheless, every single one of it was not lost on her.
It started with him coming home way later than usual. When she asked him about it after a few more nights like that, he only said that their boss kept him around for a party or a drinking session or a trip to the izakaya. And that wasn’t unusual. There really are some employers like that. And Ayato is great at his job so it’s understandable that he’d be favored.
Then, after she physically had to carry him up to the room because he was passed out drunk on their front door, he smelled of something else. Something sweet and fruity. Something not her. She didn’t ask about it.
When she flipped him around to get him to change, it turned out that there was still one bit of surprise left for her.
And even that was a criminal understatement. She felt sick to the stomach. Seeing marks that are not of her on his person. Lipstick stains on his shirt’s collar and on his face and neck, But she didn’t pry.
Yoimiya wanted to believe that she understood him. Because she knows what losing a parent feels like, she knows what it does to someone. She lost her mother at a very tender age, too.
But earlier this year, almost six months ago, Ayato’s parents had been embroiled in a road accident and only his father came out alive. And Ayato being the firstborn son – he was his mother’s son. So it was natural that her passing has affected him in so many more ways than he would care to admit.
Yoimiya was there. She was there when they rushed to the hospital at the first minute the news broke out. She was there during the entire funeral service. She was there to force Ayato to take in food when he would go on an entire day assisting his father with everything. She was there to hold him when he would uncharacteristically break down in tears during nights that are quieter than usual. She was there to wipe him and rub his back when he would throw up from drinking his woes away. She was there with him.
In their years being a couple, Ayato and Ayaka’s mother had somehow turned to her mother as well. And she knows how hard it is for her partner and her best friend so she let them grieve in their own way.
Now she can’t help but realize that on the day that Ayato lost his mother, she had lost a part of Ayato with her. And Yoimiya could only watch as it all unfolded in front of her eyes.
Even if It made her want to storm off at one point – to just turn back on everything, pack her bags and leave him for good.
But she didn’t do that. She couldn’t so she stayed and waited for him.
And maybe she should’ve done otherwise. Maybe right at that point, she already dragged him to this very couch and pried answers from him.
About his newfound keenness to drink through the night, him not coming home on time, his return to smoking, the pieces of paper with phone numbers written on them that she took from the pockets of his pants. It was clear right there. She knew deep inside but she didn’t ask because she trusted him well enough to know that he would talk to her about it.
She wanted him to talk to her. She had hoped that he would. Yoimiya believed that all things can be resolved much faster through conversations and she thought that ideology had somehow rubbed onto her boyfriend as well. But up until now, he never truly did.
“Not in the mood? So what are you exactly in the mood for, hm? Playing around with those women that jump on you at every chance they get?”
Unwillingly, Yoimiya snapped at him. She could hear the tension inside of her split like a taut rubber band and words pour out from her lips before she could even think them through. And the smirk playing on her boyfriend’s lips was pushing her further to the edge of her sanity. And it hurts. Oh, it hurts alright.
Her heart ached. She wanted to run.
Ayato gazed at her through his peripheral vision, practically seeing fumes spewing out of her ears and embers on the verge of catching fire around her.
Just a bit more, Ayato.
He chuckled dryly.
“That does sound enticing.”
Ayato hummed. A bit more..
Bearing an audacious grin on his face as he held his chin with his fingers. As if he was deep in thought. Feigning the accumulation of a bright idea, he pointed to himself. Looking into her eyes for a mere second only to focus on something else on her face.
“But c’mon, Miya. What’s making you so mad?”
More..
“Weren't you like one of those women you speak of, too?”
He could see the fire burning through her bright eyes as she trudged towards him. But he didn’t flinch nor did he have any intention to flee when she saw the raising of her hand. It’s what he deserved and more.
'Do it please.', he thought, closing his eyes.
Ayato waited for it. He braced for the sharp pain on his cheek from the impact of a slap. He anticipated it. He knows he deserves it.
But it never came.
Instead, a warm, trembling palm pressed tenderly on his cheek. And he's never been more scared to look into those hazel orbs now more than ever.
"Look at me."
She begged, gripping the front of his dress shirt with the other. An attempt to steel herself more than it was to force him to look. Tears pricked at the inner corner of her eyes and it didn't take long till they started staining her cheeks.
Kamisato Ayato - stubborn as he’s always been, stood his ground. Keeping his eyes trained on the suddenly so interesting wall behind her. And he could hear it - the sobs passing as shaky breaths from her.
And he can't look. He just can't. It will destroy him.
“Look at me properly and tell me that I’m just one of those women to you.”
"You.. are.."
Anguish filled the older one’s face as he whispered, all the pent-up emotions making it difficult for him to breathe. A crack on his well-forged mask.
Liar. Yoimiya thought.
When he did look, he expected judgment and disappointment but only found tenderness in the midst of pain. He looked long enough to spot the tears that she so aggressively wiped with the back of her hand.
Ayato knew that Yoimiya knew. It was impossible not to when he purposefully left some clues out in the open for her to see.
‘It’s only a matter of time.’, he previously thought but until today, Yoimiya never said anything nor did she hint at knowing something.
Yoimiya felt as if all the exhaustion in the world was placed onto her shoulders, weighing her down until she was buried deep beneath it all. She closed her eyes once again, trying her hardest to keep herself from getting taken over by her raw emotions. She wanted to talk, not fan the fire that already sparked, inching to burn through the both of them till everything was lost.
After taking a minute to calm herself from sobbing, she spoke once again.
"Is this truly what you wanted?”
No.
“Would it make you happier if we end this now?”
"You'll be happier if we do."
Ayato couldn't act quick enough as the words already died on his lips, cursing himself inwardly at his carelessness.
But what's done is done and while he could only hope she didn't get that, he knew it was near impossible when you could basically hear a pin drop in this room at that very moment.
There was a look of disbelief that passed through her features before it all settled to a flat, passive expression. Or at least that’s what she was going for because Ayato could still peer through this mask and see all the tender pain he has caused.
“Fine. Let’s break up.”
A stubborn tear escapes her eyes again making her cackle, the sound coming out as hysterical more than anything.
The older of the two could hear a ringing start in his ear. His throat started to feel even tighter now than it did before. And he could feel the violent contractions in his chest, knocking the air out of his system. He wanted to just disappear than feel all of this.
“Let’s break up but you’re not leaving this house. I’m not letting you leave and run away, Ayato. I’m not gonna let you do that. You’re going to stay here and watch me break, do you understand?”
“Yoimiya, stop. Please. I.. I can’t do this anymore.”
Kamisato Ayato wanted nothing more than to hold her but his words continuously betray him. He prayed to every archon there was for the tears in his eyes to not betray him now.
“No. You can and you would. Because I know you love me, Ayato.”
Yoimiya bit back on a sob as she took a step closer to him. To look at him better and make him see her better. Because if that’s what he needed, that’s what she would give him.
“I know you do because unlike you, I probably wouldn’t remember to put my favorite flowers in those damn vases every single day without fail. Or remember exactly how long I was in love with you. Unlike you, I wouldn’t still wear the ring we exchanged when I actually wanted to call it quits.”
Her tears have long betrayed her. Like a broken faucet, they spilled out of her eyes with no regard to her emotions. She had to claw at her chest at one point, finding it harder and harder to breathe as every second progressed.
But she powered through because if he wouldn’t speak it, she would.
“So yeah. Break me as much as you want. As much as you need. And once you’re done, you better prepare a good fucking apology and give me my boyfriend back.”
Yoimiya asserted firmly, before he could speak against it again. Before she could turn back.
“Yoimiya.”
Ayato called out and maybe it’s her eyes playing tricks on her but she was certain she caught the tears that escaped his blue eyes.
Silence overtook the two-bedroom apartment that was once filled with lilting music and brightness. As the night grows deeper, the silence has become more deafening than they thought it would.
Ayato sat inside their office, dumbfounded as he stared at the ring that so comfortably sat on his finger. The scenes from earlier incessantly playing itself in his mind like a broken record.
Yoimiya had since locked herself inside their room and she did the only thing she knew how to do to somehow make herself feel an inch better – call her brother.
”Is it money?”
Her older brother of four years, Tomo, started. On a normal day, she would’ve ended the call and the both of them would laugh it off the next time they meet but she couldn’t bring herself to do that today.
”Miya?”
He repeated with more worry evident in his voice than he intended.
”Hey. What the fuck is happening? Are you alright?”
“Nii-san..”
Her voice had grown hoarse and she could feel it coming right at that moment.
On the other line, Tomo only hummed, urging her to let it out because just from that voice, he already gets the idea.
It starts slow. And once it does, it’s so much more difficult to stop. Yoimiya cried her heart out for what seemed like an eternity with his brother only listening silently. Her sobs shook her entire body with much violence and it was getting harder and harder to breathe.
The walls separating the two rooms were thin and she’s certain he could hear her.
‘Good.’, she thought.
At one point, her throat started hurting. It felt raw. Her head felt as if it was going to split into two and she didn’t realize how long it had been since her eyes were dry from tears.
”You don’t have classes tomorrow, right?”
”I’ll pick you up in a few. Go and get ready, okay?”
Tomo didn’t let his sister answer and just went on with his decision. Yoimiya wouldn’t know how to answer that as well but she hummed to acknowledge him.
It was past midnight when Ayato heard the doors open and close and he knew what that meant.
His mighty hand claws at his chest and for the first time today, a sob breaks out from his throat.
When the words that his mother would always ask him before replayed in his mind did he finally allow himself to truly break down.
Now, Ayato. What are you going to do?
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