perfection in your flaws - t. mitsuya

It's been a month since haruki was rushed to the hospital, a month since the dreadful time you'd passed in the hospital corridors. the mere remembrance of it brings you fright, you never want to go through it again, never want to face that pain again. you knew all together how excruciating it felt, how you felt like you'd been broken to innumerable pieces that mitsuya could barely fit in his hands.

it's too painful, you think.

however, the operation was successful and the doctors assured that he'd be fine within the next few weeks. but boy, haruki was absolutely vigilant, he couldn't bear the thought of not getting to play and not getting to torment hiroshi by kicking him. and while he was resting in your chambers, luna and mana made it a habit to stay in your room and entertain him.

you didn't know what you'd do if you didn't have those little girls, if you didn't have mitsuya.

but haruki's pleads were getting incessant so you'd convinced mitsuya and took him to the park with a few of his friends for extra help- and also met the infamous hakkai  he's always mentioned.

at first you and mitsuya were with haruki, watching his every movement to see if anything hurt, worried and livid with any discomfort he displayed. but after a while, haruki was more than fine and so, he pushed you both to go rest under the tree- having known himself how much strain you'd put on yourself ever since his release.

hakkai was terrible with kids, so your noted. while chifuyu, a friend of mitsuya who'd owned striking cyan eyes and blonde hair, excelled at the art of babysitting- but he treated them too much like he was handling a cat. and takemichi, oh him, the poor lad who'd done nothing but been ignored and only demanded a little bit of attention- did the bravest thing possible.

while hakkai was busy getting tackled by mana and haruki, takemichi went near them like the hero he thought he was, and declared in strong, authorative words to, "fight me instead," and that was how he dug his own grave, with mana and haruki stuck on his stomach as he gets fists of sand thrown at him. on the other side, you see hiroshi and luna dangling on chifuyu's legs, refusing to let go of their grip and the laughter that never ceased to escape.

you think it's bliss in the form of smiles.

"say y/n," mitsuya says, staring off to space, and you reply in a hmm, "if it's alright to ask, don't you have any other guardians? you're too young to be working instead of going to school."

you stay silent for a few, though you weren't scared to tell him, he deserved to know anyway. but you still take a few seconds to formulate your words and without any hesitation, you reply, "no, I don't. it's because our parents passed away right before we moved. and I didn't really have any relatives I could rely on. I didn't want to too, they never bear good intentions- the relatives I mean."

you then look at him as he stares back into your eyes, "we moved because I wanted to save money, in case something like- something like this happened," you smile at him but mitsuya knows the unsaid words that you hide- in case one of you fell to the clasps of death, you wanted the money to save them.

you were so prepared that it makes mitsuya's nerves run through a hill.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know, I shouldn't have asked."

"no it's alright," you wave your hands in dismissal, "you've helped me so much. you should know."

mitsuya clamors all the courage that he had in him, and slowly encases your hands into his; giving them a soft squeeze- and feeling how snugly your hands fit into his- he says, "please know you can come to me for anything, any kind of help. I'd gladly do it for you."

anything? you think. mitsuya was a rather rational being, so such words out of him were out of your expectation. your lips break out in mellifluous laughter, and you remove one of your hands to keep it above his, "anything?"

"well, almost--"

"can't take your words back, mitsuya kun."

mitsuya simply smiles as you laugh in front of him, your head tipping back, the hair you'd tucked behind your ears coming loose. "you're doing so much for me that there's nothing more I could ask of you. I can't spend time with my brothers, or take them to places, treat them to restaurants because I have to work. I've chosen to give up on my ambition for them, I'd do anything and everything it takes for them, so thank you really. for doing the things I couldn't."

the last part of your speech catches his attention like a grasshopper on his windowsill, "you had a dream?"

"it sounds weird to say this now, but yes I did," you reply, letting the loose strands of hair irritate your lashes, "i...wanted to be a model,"—it's impossible now, you think. but you don't really regret, you don't regret one pinch of all that you've sacrificed for your brothers who are your entire world. "but I'm not cut out for it anymore I think."

mitsuya seems to ponder for a while, and then he eyes you with the mesmerizing and affectionate look in his eyes that brought along that soft smile of adoration, "no, I think you'd make a great model."

you go along with his dreamy atmosphere, your head tilting as you ask, "really, you think so?"

mitsuya's free hand rises to tuck your flowing hair behind your ears that had already imitated the color of the similar vermillion sky, "I know so," and you know he's not joking at all when he says, "you're always stunning."

that makes you abruptly break free the taut hold of your hands, though you regret it right afterward when you begin to miss the soothing warmth of his palms. you look away from him, bringing your hands up to your face to feign a cough- or to hide the crimson that coated your cheeks, you didn't know, "I could sit here and watch them wall day, they look so happy."

mitsuya knows how cliché euphemisms are, how cheesy affectionate words are, but his mind seems to spill all of the poetry, all of those verses like a hymn when it comes to you. he'd say you're godforsaken-ly perfect, godforsaken-ly beautiful and godfor-fucking-sakenly so gorgeous that he can't begin to explain; but he knows you're not flawless, you're not the goddess of perfection his eyes may make you out to be. because that's what makes you all the more beautiful-- your imperfections, the crinkles of your eyes, the scratched skin of your forearm, all the things he knew you'd never liked about yourself- he loves it, he loves them.

say you take the moon for example, the full of flaws, splotched part of the galaxy bards romanticized to be eternally perfect, but it really wasn't. it was so filled with imperfections and blemishes and dark gray within its white that its flaws were what made its splendor all the more encasing.

he thinks that's you. that's your charm, that's the coruscate that takes refuge in your eyes as you look away from him, that's the shine that furbishes your silken hair to strings of velvet, that's the lacklustre that graces your fingers and the skin of your rubicund cheeks, that's the uneven surface of your lips that you'd bitten at any chance you'd got, that's your specialty, your perfection, your excellence- just so you.

mitsuya mumbles, unheard by you, "I could sit with you forever."