_confession : y!oc x reader

one

_TAKEO

"Mom," You call out, voice gruff. Your throat is dry, but the water's run out. "Mom." You repeat, more firm this time. You bring your foot up to nudge your corpse-like mother, the side of your mouth twitching into a frown at the lack of an answer.

She really drank herself into next week.

Kneeing down, you wrap her arm around your shoulders, your own grabbing around her hips. "God," You grunt at an attempt to stand straight.

"Honeyyy," You mother finally responds, nestling her face into your hair. Your nose scrunches up, she reeks of alcohol.

"Moooom," You say back in the same manner, dropping her down onto the couch. She pouts like a child, hugging your waist and pressing her face into your stomach. You smile a little.

"I've gotta get to school, mom. I'll see you at 2, yeah?" You whisper, brushing her hair out of her face. She smiles, breathing into your uniform, "Okay. Stay safe." She whispers, falling back

Laughing, you head for the door, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. "I will."

"I love you!"
"Love you too, mom."

No, you didn't have the best mother. You know that. But she's all you have, you're all she has. You don't mind the fact that she's more childish than you at times, she knows when to stop most of the time.

She stayed with you when you needed it the most. She saved your life, and you'll go to any extent to save hers.

"Morning, Y/N." As usual, your old neighbor greeted you, her voice soft. Electing to stay silent, you nod at her, face void of emotion. She treads up to you in a waddle, clutching her handbag tight.

"I noticed the water had run out in the apartment last night," She mentions, reaching into her bag. "so I bought this. I have several more for our neighbors too,"

You eye the glass bottle of milk in her hand. It looked like one of old movies and warm days. Your mouth parts a little, which little grandma sensed as a protest, so she quickly hands it to your chest.

"Take it, please. You need more growing to do." She coos, already waddling away.

Your feet are glued to the ground as you turn the bottle in your fingers. It's still cold, you notice.

"Takeo, dear," The grandma knocked at the door down the hall. You never made an effort to get to know your neighbors, so it's no surprise you don't recognize the tall boy who'd opened the door.

He stares down at his neighbor, buttoning up his uniform.

Ah,
he goes to your school.

You don't make an effort to get to know students in your school, either. Actually, you don't make an effort to get to know anyone. The world had betrayed you once, you won't let it again.

"Oh," He says. "thank you, Tsukomo-san."

Tsukomo-san. You'll remember that.

Your feet start venturing for the flight of stairs, and you cast your eyes down to the bottle of milk to avoid any conversation. You know Takeo is looking at you, you can feel it. It makes you uncomfortable.

You watch anything but the path ahead, head cast down as it always was. You look at the figures you'd drawn on your worn-out converse, the peeling carpet of the stairs, your wrinkled uniform. You take note of the peeling wallpaper that'd already reached the ground.

Just as you're exiting the apartment building, quick steps follow behind you, and your heartrate increases with it.

"Ah- Y/N," You hear Takeo call out. You don't know what to do. Do you stop? Run off? Do you ignore him?

Without thinking, your feet freeze again, head turning to look at him.

Ah, fuck.

The blond smiles, hurrying towards you. You stare incredulously at the tall case swinging on his back. Takeo smiles, it's a boyish smile that makes his eyes turn into crescents. His backpack is on his front, probably because of the case behind him.

"Mind if I walk you?"
"What?"

You hadn't intended to sound that stupid. And rude.

"Um, I'd like to walk you to school." The boy repeats patiently, picking on a loose strand on his backpack. "Oh." Blinking, you turn around. "Sure."

You can practically feel the giddiness ooze off him. Cute. Obnoxious.

"I don't really talk to you at school, do I?" Takeo mentions, drumming his fingers on the backpack on his stomach. "No," You answer slowly, unsure of how to reply. The boy hums, understanding of your reserved personality.

"Could I ask-- do you take art on your fourth period?"
"...no."
"...huh."

Looking up at him, you watch Takeo's face quirk into a confused frown. You're confused yourself-- why ask of your studies? And with wrong assumptions, too?

The black case on his back swings again, almost hitting your side. You take in a sharp breath, distancing yourself from the enormous thing.

"What..." Takeo looks at you as you trail off, noticing you eye the black case on his back. "Oh!" He gushes. "It's my guitar. I'm in a band at school," He prides, patting the instrument with tinted cheeks. "Cool," You reply slowly, eyes averting down to the pavement.

You hope this is a one-time thing, but you highly doubt it, given that Takeo seems like a bubbly boy. You watch his legs as he walks with you, holding in a surprised hum when you realize he bounces his heels on the ground. There are a few messily drawn figures on his shoes, you notice, randomly scattered.

"You don't talk to much people at school, do you?"
"No. I don't like talking too much. It tires me."
"Oh, I'll shut up, then."

"You don't have to," You upbraid, playing with a loose strand on your uniform. "your voice is nice to hear."

You don't dare face the boy. You can practically feel his smile ooze just from the air. Frankly, you don't know why you even said that. Probably to avoid the awkward silence. Or to avoid feeling guilty if he'd stopped talking for you.

"Thank you, I am a lead vocalist, anyway." This elicits a small laugh from you. You bring your eyes up from your shoes to look at him.

Your stomach jumps when your eyes meet his almost immediately, a warm light reflecting his irises. You like this warm light.