Chifuyu Matsuno, the vice captain of the Tokyo Manji Gang's first division, has found himself falling in love with the girl sitting behind him in his science class with the pretty hair clip.
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miss me??
— Baji could feel his ears peeling off.
Never in his life had he ever heard someone talk this much. His mom's lectures were shorter than whatever was spewing out of Chifuyu's mouth right now. He couldn't even make out the words falling from his lips through the other side of the phone, mind buzzing numb after the first 5 minutes of his rant.
His rant about you.
Oh, how Baji wanted to be mad at you right now. You did this. You started this.
But then, at some point, Baji realized that he was Baji. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted. So, he hung up.
Chifuyu felt his jaw drop when he realized the line was cut off a few minutes later, huffing his breath and throwing his phone across the room where it hit against Peke J's tail. The Blond's face was littered with more than enough scratches that night.
Almost as much as it was filled with more than enough happiness. Chifuyu swore the grin on his face was permanent. He could remember the weight of your hand pressed against the round of his shoulder as you leaned up to place a peck upon his cheek. He could feel the dinner he'd delightedly gobbled up almost shooting back up his throat.
His head was filled with you. With L/n Y/n, the girl who won over his heart. And he swore to his life you'd always stay in that position.
It was 11:24 P.M. And Chifuyu felt his heart pounding against his chest as he fell asleep, not a single thought about the sickly girl and her heartbroken lover in mind.
—
But you couldn't say the same on your side. Oh no. Actually, you could say you were experiencing the exact opposite of Chifuyu.
You awoke in a cold sweat, blankets peeled off your intoxicatingly hot skin. The breeze slipping through the windows didn't help, brushing against the beads of sweat forming at your nape.
She was dead. The lady in the dream was dead. You saw her. You saw the body through the eyes of her lover.
You watched as he slowly approached her through glossy eyes, each step getting weaker and weaker until he'd fallen to his knees right in front of her sickeningly cold face. You vomit but nothing comes out. You can see the veins popping out of her eyelids; the lack of moisture in her lips along with the cracks forming in the center.
She's dead and, at that moment, you'd felt dead as well.
You could feel her skin against the pads of your fingers, gliding smoothly across the frozen coverage of her cheek. The hollow shell of a body practically turned to dust under your touch.
