✨10,000 Little Love Letters✨ ~soulmate amaguji~

~ the pathetic puppet show ~

! rantaro POV/korekiyo later !

thisll be a long chapter,,, so i'll be splitting it in half by using ***; hope it makes sense 'o'

again.

he left me again.

left me to feel like i'm nothing in the crowd, just a measly thing that can be abandoned in a second. it's fine, not like i cared or anything. it's not like you made me feel like the most special boy in the universe before tossing me aside like a toy you grew tired of. like a puppet bearing its strings to you, watching helplessly as you strike the strands with a pair of razor-sharp scissors. unable to be commanded, it lies worthless on the ground. so reliant on others, the feeble-minded doll rests used and destroyed, depending so much on others that it kills the poor thing.

and here i lay, on the ground.

a dumb puppet without its strings.

i stand up, brushing myself off. i feel used, alone, scared... it's fine. maybe i was destined to be used; maybe this is the universe striking me through the heart with well-deserved karma. as I walk blocks to my house, my feet drag along the sidewalk as if 200-pound weights had been attached. it burdens me, the weight of everything becoming too much. how badly i want to collapse to the side of the road, bawling my eyes out over someone who couldn't care less about me. and yet, i haul along.

the sun starts to set, the dull glow illuminating the street around me. i wonder if kiyo is gazing out his window, cherishing the beauty of the creeping twilight and separation of day. maybe he's daydreaming... dreaming of watching the sunset with me, gently holding my hand in his. realistically, i acknowledge where i stand. but... i can only dream...

i reach my house, opening the door, and stepping inside. the door was never locked, my sisters always forgot, and my dad never bothered. and my stepmom, or stepmoms, god knew where they were or what they were doing.

"ran!! you're home!!" my youngest sister clings to my arm, giggling and bouncing eagerly on the balls of her feet. she begins to ramble about her day, tugging on my hand. i force a smile, lying and informing her that i was busy with work and could not play games with her tonight. yes, it was an asshole move... but i felt exhausted, as if i was forced to run a marathon after not sleeping for months. as if my heart had been shredded to bits.

i keep the smile alive before locking my bedroom door and crumpling into my bed, unable to restrain an outpouring river of tears tumbling down my cheeks.

with trembling, unsure hands, i reach for my phone, biting my lip.

...

.....

'please... please don't leave me on read right now.'

...what am i doing?

'i don't want to be alone. am i doing something wrong? i'm sorry... i want to be of use to you. i want to feel loved, to love. i want to give you all the love i never could...'

unsend, delete, destroy.

'i can't do that if you don't let me, kiyo. i can't be in your life if you won't let me be in it. please... as a friend, as whatever in god's name we are now, let me care for you.'

...

.......

...........

for once, i had seen something i had never seen before.

kiyo~chan !! is typing...

kiyo~chan !!: '... i need help, rantaro. lord, plead for my horrid existence, i need help...'

'come over. rn.'

***

! korekiyo POV !

i drop my phone, holding my head. the screen splinters and shatters as it drops to the ground, shards resting by the corpse of what once was a living, revolting human being. the knife had been washed, as it had been so many times before, every finger print and crimson drop now washed away in soapy water. swirling away into a drain, never seen again. it's insane how quickly life can drain, isn't it?

"...what in heavens have i done..."

i grab ahold of my phone once again, pocketing it and dashing out of my home. realistically, i know no one would search for her. my house appears abandoned, a terrifying hellhole of shattered dreams. that i could get away scot-free. and yet...

yet i have the urge to tell him. the urge whispers in my ears, sending chills down my spine. i worried the poor boy senseless, leaving him alone on multiple occasions. i need to be honest...

for once in my life, i must be transparent.

i shove my door open, running, running, running... recollecting my path to the emerald-haired boy's house.

i'm sorry i wasn't honest enough with you...

***

! rantaro POV !

wiping my tears away, i prepare myself. i gaze into my mirror, black eyeliner smudged somewhat underneath my eyes, as if i hadn't slept in ages. my cheeks were blissed and rosy, already chubby cheeks grown puffy from tears. a pair of grey sweatpants adorned with a flannel button-up, slightly unbuttoned and slipping off my freckle-dusted shoulder. i looked worn yet snug.

i hear a faint tapping at my window, opening it to meet a familiar pair of golden eyes. they looked hollow, empty... as if he had witnessed all of humanity's tragedies unfold in front of him. i reach out to his slender hands and pull him up, the usual bandages discarded. rather, his bare hand was seen, thin and white, littered in pinkish scars. some were little and mended; others were deep and fresh. i let go, only to be yanked back forward into a hug.

the hug was desperate, needy, and troubled; as if the poor boy in my arms had never been hugged in his life.

"...what's wrong? please... talk to me..."

the taller boy weeps into my shoulder, grasping on tighter. he looked so vulnerable... afraid...

a puppet without its strings.

he speaks for a moment, a whisper of a voice gradually dying in his throat.

"...i must confess."

...

..........

"i, korekiyo shinguji, am a cold-hearted killer."