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———— THE GAME SEEMED TO DRAG.
yasunari was exhausted. it felt like they had been playing this damn match for hours. it seemed the entire team was in down spirits, but they were still trying their best to get through the match.
it had finally ended, thank god. he panted as he leaned on his knees, taking water from yuu and wiping his face with a towel. they returned to the locker room and he showered, going to grab his phone as he was drying his hair with a towel. he tapped the screen with his thumb to wake it up and damn near dropped it on the locker room tile.
pretty girl voicemail (1)
he felt a lump in his throat as he went to see the voicemail. it was roughly three minutes long. he didn't think she'd even listen to the one he drunkenly left, much less leave one for him. natsusa came up to him and glanced over his shoulder, seeing the voicemail. "holy shit, she called you?" he gasped.
"i left her a voicemail last night," yasunari muttered, and natsusa about passed out. ibuki made his way over, natsusa frantically smacking his arm.
"[n/n] left yasunari a voicemail," he squealed, and ibuki shifted away to avoid getting smacked any more.
"you listen to it yet?" ibuki asked. yasunari shook his head, so ibuki grabbed natsusa and dragged him out. "we'll leave you alone."
yasunari was left alone in the locker room, sitting on the cold bench. he felt himself shaking as he stared at the play button. it's not like it was a live phone call, so why was he so nervous to listen to it?
was it the fear that she was going to lay out every wrong thing he ever did and tell him to go fuck himself? or the hope that maybe she still felt something and was willing to forgive him? both possibilities scared him shitless.
he took a deep breath and pressed on the voicemail, holding the phone up to his ear. there was a muffled sound, and then he heard a loud tap. she must've put her phone down.
hey yasunari.
he bit his lip, foot tapping on the ground anxiously.
uh, shit. i thought my hangover would've gone away by now. fuck. oh god. okay. um, hey. this is weird. but you left me a voicemail, so i felt like i owed it to you to respond, seeing as you asked me to.
he heard her stifle a chuckle, and it sounded like she set something down. maybe a cup.
i don't know what you want from me. i don't know what i want from me, either. but i knew that i just wanted you to be honest with your feelings. it felt like you were suppressing them, and it was so painful to try and get you to open up, only for you to continue closing yourself off.
i guess a part of me thought i could change you for the better, like this was some movie about a boy and a girl who fell in love and worked their way through life. but, that wasn't what this was, and i guess i tried too hard to make it seem that way. you said that you'd never be enough, and that isn't true. you were everything and more to me, but it just seemed like i was doing all the work. a lot of take and no give.
her voice began to waver, and yasunari felt his chest tighten even more with every breath he took.
maybe this just wasn't our time. maybe i needed to give you more time and space to be your own person. i don't know. but, i'll only say this once. yasunari tsuru, i am so stupidly, ridiculously, angrily infatuated with you, and god, does it fucking hurt to think i can't even bear to look at you right now without wanting to throw up. but, you still cloud my mind all the damn time, and i hate it. i'm sorry for everything.
