Growing up as a social person, Sora Suzuki was surrounded by love and affection- even from the most random people. Tender strokes, gentle kisses. Love came to him in the form of five unique beings, and damn, he's in deep. But when shit happens, and...
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DECEMBER TWENTY FIFTH, TWO THOUSAND AND FIFTEEN
00:04 at night
WITH ONLY SEVEN WORDS, six hearts shattered that Christmas Day. Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Kindaichi, Kunimi and Kageyama all stared at their soulmate, their eyes wide and enlarged. They heard the thrum of their blood, rushing to heal broken parts. Their chests constricted as they tried to breathe in as much air as they possibly could. It almost felt like they were drowning in nothing but water that they desperately needed to live. Yet, no matter how much oxygen they drank, they couldn't seem to catch their breaths.
"What?" Kageyama whispered. He was afraid of raising his voice, afraid that if he did, the emotions bubbling through their bond would ignite into a fury of untreatable flames.
Sora watched them sadly. He doesn't hate them. He swears he doesn't. He sat before them, watching horror and astonishment caress their faces, and knew that it just hurt too much to be around them right now.
"I know that this is the worst fucking timing ever, and I'm truly sorry, but—" Sora stopped himself. His eyes felt strangely watery, and his vision was beginning to blur.
"But what?" Iwaizumi urged. He squeezed Sora's hand, offering him reassurance even when it felt like he was dying. He had hoped he heard the words wrong. Hoped that Sora didn't actually mean them. Hoped that this was all just one big prank that Sora and his other soulmates orchestrated to get back at him for shitting all over their idea to wear Christmas sweaters this year. If it was a prank, Iwaizumi would kill them.
But...looking at Sora's face, feeling his emotions trickle in through their bond, subtle, faint, barely there, Iwaizumi knew.
Sora was serious.
"But I can't do this anymore."
Oikawa sat up. "Do what? Whatever it is, we can fix it." His hands shook, and his heart raced. He could feel Kindaichi trembling under him, small, almost infantile.
Sora shook his head, forlorn. "This time, I don't think you can."
"Wh-What do you mean?" Kunimi questioned. He looked frantic, like a deer caught in headlights, awaiting immediate death but hoping futilely for the car to skid to an abrupt stop. "Was it something we did? Did someone say something to you? Did we make you uncomfortable? Or was it—"
"Akira." Sora's lip quivered. He watched his soulmate dissolve into a mindless state of panic, and it was all his doing. "It's not— It's not that. You guys are perfect. You—" He smiled sadly, and his soulmates could hear (if not feel) the sincerity of his words. "I couldn't have asked for any better people."
"Then what is it?" Like a switch that had been flipped, Kunimi glared at him. "If it's not us, then what the fuck is the problem?"
"Akira," Kageyama mumbled soothingly. He rubbed his soulmate's arm, but Kunimi jerked away from his hold and stood up. His heart was racing too quickly for his mind to keep up, his thoughts following just a step behind. Everything was going white, too bright to be considered normal. The world around him was fuzzy at best; Kumimi couldn't make out anything other than shapes, colours and people, but still, it didn't stop him.
