Familiarity

Chapter Twenty-Six

i have never planned nor wanted to viscerally make ships in fics like this bc i don't want ship wars or anything. but there is kinda a moment that you can take up to interpretation but i don't wanna see fighting or i will kill someone off.

also... sorry for taking so long to post. i'm not even kidding when i tell you i have not had the time. with finals and literally moving into a house that has barely been finished, ive been very busy. i was literally at the new house for hours today. And when i say all we did was scrub the floors, dust, put screens into windows, dust, vacuum, put shit in boxes, take shit out of boxes, and then almost break the oven, i mean it.

Im not sure of how well this is edited, im mostly skimming stuff bc im EXHAUSTED. I haven't even been able to write anything for this fic since monday. 

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Praying didn't help. Wishing on a star didn't save you.

Crying to yourself didn't do anything.

So you held everything and hated yourself for it. You couldn't let yourself cry in front of your teachers, your principal, and the line of officers that stayed against the wall, watching and listening.

You were telling about everything in all of those details you hoped you wouldn't have to share. You let the chief of police and one of the detectives see the memories, shaking from nerves during every passing moment. You let them see memories of your aunt and uncle. You showed your sister's passing—that single moment in the hospital before you ran away only to meet your friends in the lobby—and everything that followed her death. You showed them your mother, the way she changed, and the way you two fought.

Letting them see was easier for you. It was easier than speaking, but it brought twice as much shame. And while some things benefited from this silent and visual exchange, some didn't. For some, showing was useless.

So, at times, you spoke. You briefed over several things—the way your brother had been acting, what you saw in the class group chat about Kagome, the kidnapping with Katsuki, the complete territory of your past, and the way it continued to taunt you. They didn't ask about most of that, because they didn't seem to need all of those notions. They didn't care about your brother's health and they already knew enough about Kagome and her ongoing case. They just wanted their proof and they wanted to take people down.

But they asked about being kidnapped with Katsuki, and it took everything in you to keep yourself focused on the memories beside that moment in your grandmother's living room.

It made you feel dirty and embarrassed. You didn't want them to know how you felt, which almost felt as though it ran deeper than your fear of his safety and the awkwardness you didn't wish to face. Even though it didn't run deeper, and it was truly from the awkwardness, the fear of people knowing, and the risk that it entailed, it was something you couldn't shake.

It stuck to you until after your dismissal when you scrambled to the bathroom and splashed your face with water. Lunch had already begun. You hadn't remembered when the intercom played and called for you to go to the office, but it was long before lunch. You hadn't realized how long it had been until then, when you felt a sudden surge of fatigue and sluggishness. You used the bathroom, washed your hands, and splashed your face again, sure that the first time wasn't enough to get rid of that incurable scratch.

You left the bathroom shortly, glancing at Jirou who was walking in the hall beside you. She noticed you and paused briefly. "Hey, you were in the office for a while," she stated.

"Trust me, I know," you laughed.

She laughed, too. "At least you didn't forget the book you loaned Yaoyorozu, and decided to insist you would get it and return it during lunch." She sighed as if breathless and you grimaced. "Yeah," she said, "it sucked walking all the way to the cafeteria from the classroom, just to walk to and from my dorm."