𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚊𝚛 | 𝚔. 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚊

-A/N-

Author's Note:

Hey! Thank you for reading Sugar - it was really fun for me to write, and I hope you, my lovely reader, enjoyed it as well :)

For those interested, I will be writing a continuation of the novel, a throwback per se. If you look to the sushi date arc, you'll notice the hospital flashbacks, the residual trauma, and a glimpse into the backstory of Y/N herself. 

This continuation will be about that event, how her and Sugawara met, and how their story truly began. 

Here's a sneak peek!

------------------------------------------

"What do you recall?"

I train my eyes downward, shuffling my feet against the carpet. It's patterned with beige hues.

"Do you remember anything?"

My tongue feels like cotton in my mouth as I shake my head. I hear scribbling ahead of me, a pen on paper. The person sighs.

"You know we can't identify fault unless you testify, right?"

My brows furrow in reply. Silence builds between us, tension that curls around my throat, tightening with each passing moment. I couldn't speak if I wanted to.

The ache in my throat builds, extending over my ribcage. A choked sound leaves my mouth. If the interrogator notices, they don't say anything. I can feel their gaze, burning with unanswered questions. It's a familiar, scorching sensation, unstoppably blistering against my skin.

A shudder crawls down my spine as the person sighs again. I hear their chair move against the carpet, building friction against tan threads. I can't seem to look up, nor look them in the eye.

It's a helpless feeling.

"I'll be back in an hour's time. Please consider the importance of this situation."

The footsteps patter away, disappearing beyond the gentle click of a door. Silence engulfs the room, broken only by the sound of my own, burdened breathing.

It remains like that for a moment, a stuttering heartbeat, before the mask falls away and I crumble. A familiar sensation fills my skull, buzzing with the ache of a migraine. Wet lines my lashes, clouds my vision, and carves a path down my cheekbones, only to absorbed by the carpet. My breathing grows uneven, broken by hiccups and barely suppressed cries.

I can't seem to stop the torrent, raging against my mind, burrowing against the edge of my skull.

I do remember.