painting the galaxy was harder than we thought.

memories

[again another slight tw, minor mentions of self harm/implied suicide, please be cautious as this chapter does heavily deal with it]

Come on suck it up and do it already!

"I've got this, I can write a letter, it's easy!" Satori tapped his foot against the edge of the desk in the library. Wakatoshi was practicing with some people from his volleyball team, he mentioned a Kageyama and Hirugami, whoever the hell they were.

He flipped the page of the notebook, gliding his pen along the paper once more. He was only able to scrawl out a 'Dear Wakatoshi' before he clicked the pen cap closed and rushed out of his seat.

"I'm gonna do it, no I can't, but I have to." Satori's lifelong dream was to visit the galaxy, paint it, hold it in his hands, let milkyways drip between his fingers. He wanted to escape reality, wake up in another life, where he wasn't cursed with self-hatred, where he didn't feel the need to slide a blade along his flesh whenever the opportunity arose, a life where he and Wakatoshi could live happily without the timestamp of soulmate marks, a reality where-

Text Message! From: Semisemi

/Hey!! How are things? I haven't seen you in a while./

/theyre fiiiine, (>.<) im tired/

/Jeez dude, when are you gonna stop with the emoticons?/

/when you stop asking \(•_•)/ i like expressing myself, Semi./

/Whatever you say. I was just checking up, hope you're doin' okay!/

/did you...did you just say 'doin'' as if you were speaking it...../

/SHUT UP/

Satori laughed and pressed on the power button of his phone. He slid it into his pocket and focused his attention to the crowd of children now staring daggers at him because he'd wandered into the kids section.

"Sorry kids, got a little distracted." He raised both hands in an apologetic gesture before pivoting and turning away. He waved a hand at his new coworker, Haiba, who waved back and watched as he clocked out for the day.

Do it. Do it do it do it do it. Now.

"Gah! Fuck!" He'd slipped on the black ice that froze against the sidewalk, nearly blending in with the dark grey. His hands and butt were freezing, and he scrambled to stand back up, grabbing hold of a light pole.

You can do this, just don't think about it! Duh.

He trod along side-streets and alleyways, slowly making his way back to Wakatoshi's apartment. He unlocked the door with a key he'd slipped off the counter earlier.

_____

Satori, in fact, did not end up doing anything for the next month. As the weather grew colder, his obsession with leaving grew larger, he could feel the tendrils of life beginning to slip out of his grasp. It felt like a weight was gradually lifting off of his shoulder, he felt lighter, more free than he was with Wakatoshi. 

Today, today I can.

He didn't write any letters, he didn't organize his will, he did however write a very not-detailed text message to Semi, the only other person who'd known about his life as a child.

/hey..so this is gonna be weird. but i love you, and and and you helped me a lot and you were my first ever friend, so thank you. god this hurts, you didn't have to do that for me. but, thanks. <3 i'll see you soon/

Satori turned his phone off and slid it back into his pocket, the plastic groaning as it rubbed against fabric. He drummed his fingers against the keyboard of his computer, typing out a polite resignation email before booking it out of the library.

Wakatoshi was at practice again, late too. It was the perfect time to escape and paint the galaxy like Satori always wanted. He ran down the streets, despite the slick of the snow, all the way to Wakatoshi's apartment. He quickly slipped off his shoes and ran to the bathroom, silently pulling off his clothes and starting the shower. Satori looked at the scars that lined his legs, arms, stomach, and ribs.

"Haaa, I really am a monster. Aren't I?" He looked up at the ceiling as if he were speaking to someone located above him. He sent one last glance toward the mirror that reflected a broken man, and stepped into the tub. Water slid over his eyes and dripped down his chin, it slicked back his hair and stung the fresh cuts along the base of his hip.

Shouldn't have done it there I guess. Ow.

He never really stopped cutting, per se. He just got better at hiding it, regular trips to drugstores and convenience stores made it easy for him to buy color-corrector and concealer. Wakatoshi had absolutely no idea, which is why right now, in the haze of his late-night practices, would be the best time for Satori to escape.

The water suddenly went freezing cold and the man shot his hands over the faucet, water dripping from the showerhead. He heaved a sigh and stepped back out of the shower, pulling on a large hoodie he'd probably taken from Wakatoshi, and a pair of shorts that were also probably taken from Wakatoshi. The clothes were large on him, but they smelt like home.

Shit- no not home. It's just Toshi, calm down.

Satori shook his head and cleared his thoughts before stepping out of the bathroom, the wood floor cold against his heels. His legs felt like lead as he plopped onto the couch, resting his head on the cushions. His phone rang in his pocket-

Call From: Semisemi

Satori rolled his eyes and answered, "Hey Semi!"

"What the fuck was that message?" He sounded frantic, and Satori could hear some of Taichi's mumbling far away from the speaker.

"Wha? I was jus' sayin' I love ya', no worries." His hands grew hot and damp with guilt.

"You never say that. Liar. What's going on?"

Nothing gets past this asshole.

"Oh nothing, I'm thinkin' of going on a trip, that's all!" His smiled into the speaker, hoping Semi would believe him.

"Uh-huh. Whatever, listen man whatever the hell you were going to do, just- don't, 'kay?" He pleaded, but it had no effect on Satori. He'd chosen his fate already.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Semisemi! I've gotta run, bye!" He drew out the last syllable annoyingly and hung up on his friend. It obviously wasn't the most polite thing to do, but shit, cut him some slack.

Satori checked the time, and the digital clock glowed a beautiful purple, 5:42 PM painted on its screen. Just a few more minutes and he'd make his way up to the top of his roof.

At 5:55, he pulled on his slippers and ran into the hallway, hastily making his way to the stairwell. It reeked of mold and mildew, but it was oddly comforting. Something about the smell reminded him of the room in his old house, where he'd spent days suffering inside, the splintering wood ripping at his soft skin.