└── •✧• ──┘
Something about completely clearing out the room you've lived in forces you to take a trip down memory lane. Sara supposed this is why they say to take your time in cleaning out a space. You never know what you'd find in there. His room had always been a lot more decant than the rooms of most guys his age. But it perfectly suited his personality. Cat plushies, pictures here and there. A line of simple clothes in dark colours. Bookshelves filled with mainly sport shoujo's, guides on care for cats, cat picture books, or food and drink recipes. Stashed right behind a stack of them was a small notebook that was vaguely familiar, almost like someone had intended it hid it from sight. Just taking it out, Sara found a smile creeping on his face. Despite not being one to have diaries or journals, he did recall having one he came back to less than 6 times per year. But that just made it easier for him to look through it.
What was supposed to be a quick skim ended up with him, laying down flat on his single bed. The diary was short, concise, hardly more than 50 words per page, his kanji writing slowly but progressively better as he goes along. But there was an unmistakable common thing mentioned in every page.
Ginyami Midorimori
The entries could be as small as seeing him in the hallway, or admiring how good at keeping his grades up, or wanting to mimic the almost effortless way he placed people at ease, wishing he could do the same. Instead of the stuttering, shy mess he was. Others mention how confused and uncomfortable he was of the others actions. Soon progressing to a more detailed, up close and personal view of Ginyami. Every few years there was an entry that exceeded 50 words. First was when they met. Then when they first became friends. When they first got together. When they broke up. When they got back together again. And …it seemed the entries stopped after highschool.
He traced every word he wrote, a mixture of amusement and warmth flooding through him. Like peeking into the glimpse of childhood he could never get back to. Reaching to the end of the last entry by the 3rd time already, he felt his eyes watering just slightly. Rubbing his eyes, he unconsciously let out a grateful, fond smile. Despite knowing that no one was watching him right now.
From the moment they met, even Sara could tell him and Ginyami were so different. Being told rules on what makes a good person, and a bad one - and yet he found himself torn between his role in the world. That because he caused distress by his appearance, he should punish himself by staying out of people's way. Staying quiet, not allowing himself to make friends. Even if he yearned for it. Next thing he knew, he hated everything he saw about himself. Whether it be through a mirror, or passing by a glass display, a puddle - and eventually, even in the eyes of someone else. Perceiving his appearance as burdening others.
And then Ginyami thwarted his whole perspective on what he should do. By showing up - rather rudely at first- and challeging him. They certainly came a long way, at least. Sara never would've thought he would end up this entangled with someone from a different world. Ginyami with his prestigous family, large business and massive influence. Soon to be married to some guy from a fishing town in Aoshima. Years ago, perhaps that would've freaked him out. Knowing that others may not accept them. Sara's family was fine, but he recalled the difficult years trying to muster up the courage to get engaged with him.
Next thing he knew, instead of feeling like a burden - seeing his reflection in Ginyami's eyes only ever felt like home. Like a safe warm hug. A space to share everything. Every tears shed, and every kiss shared, and the many in between. Worth fighting for to stay. Even if others think otherwise. Even if Ginyami himself felt undeserving of being with him. Sara would just have to stay to remind him otherwise, just as Ginyami had done so with him.
Sara peeled his eyes from the book, heading out the door and down the old steps in his house.
" Obaasan… do you think I can keep this here instead of taking it to America? Why? Um.. I just..thought it might feel more at home here.." His vague words spurred his grandmother to press why he made it sound like an inanimate object had a soul.
While he gets fluster and make excuses the best he can, the book sits open on his bed. A place which watched it aged, with wear and tear. Yet, stayed timeless in a way. A physical proof of the confessions and progression of how a shy boy fell in love with someone. A person whom, like the book. Had it' edges, its spots, and dust. But regardless, stayed. Perfect as himself, and perfect for Sara. Proved time and time again.
Kitomyx
