Pushover | Aether x Reader

Thirty-Two

On the morning of an important school-wide presentation, (Y/n) had hoped to wake up buzzing with excitement and confidence—her lines perfectly memorized, her presentation polished and ready. For weeks, she had prepared like a general gearing up for battle. But instead, she opened her eyes to the harsh reality of a terrible sore throat, just hours before the speech they had all been anticipating.

'Archons above...' (Y/n) silently cursed as she dragged herself out of bed, her body already feeling cold and heavy.

Staring at her reflection, she looked pale and fragile, hardly the confident speaker she had rehearsed to be. Her throat felt raw, every swallow sending a sharp sting through her chest.

Steeling herself, she pulled on a sweater and stepped out of her room. The school halls buzzed with students preparing for the presentation, their chatter and footsteps echoing through the corridors.

Just then, Aether rounded the corner and nearly collided with her.

"(Y/n)!" His brow furrowed as he took in her pale face and the way she leaned against the wall. "Are you okay? You look terrible."

She forced a shaky smile, trying to reassure him despite her raspy voice giving her away. "I'm... fine. Just a little under the weather."

"You don't look fine. You're supposed to give the speech today, right? You've been preparing for weeks." He frowned.

"I know, I know! But my throat feels like it's on fire. How can I speak when it hurts this much?" She inhaled deeply before resting her forehead on his shoulder. "Ugh... I really don't feel well, Aether."

Caught off guard, he quickly steadied her. "Maybe you can rest a bit? Maybe postpone or have someone cover for you."

She shook her head, panic tightening her throat. "No. This speech—it's supposed to change things. To help the students see the truth. If I don't do it, no one will."

Aether hesitated, golden eyes flicking from every corner of the sunlit room.

A few weeks ago, during a meeting with Principal Varka, he had firmly stated he wasn't comfortable with public speaking, and (Y/n) had understood his reluctance. But now, after weeks of watching her pour her heart into preparations and outreach, his determination had grown.

He opened his mouth to offer to deliver the speech for her—when suddenly, her phone vibrated sharply in her pocket.

She pulled it out with trembling hands.

Her mother's name flashed across the screen.

Her heart pounded harder. Her parents—the ones who had disowned her—were trying to reach out.

She swallowed thickly, overwhelmed by a tidal wave of emotions: anger, hurt, confusion.

"I can't... I just..." Her voice faltered, tears welling at the corners of her eyes.

Aether pulled her closer, rubbing her back comfortingly. "Hey, whatever you need, I'm here."

But the weight of everything—the sore throat, the speech, the sudden call from her estranged parents—hit her all at once. Her knees buckled, and she barely caught herself against the wall.

Her vision blurred, her breath shallow, and she panicked.

"How... how is all this happening at once?" she whispered, voice cracking as exhaustion crashed over her like a tidal wave.

Aether steadied her gently, lowering her to the rugged floor. "(Y/n), breathe. In... and out." He cradled her figure, humming a soft lullaby as he searched for the right words.

For so long, he had silently watched her push herself—sacrificing sleep, health, and peace of mind—because he admired her strength. But seeing her break under the weight, something inside him snapped.

He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face and met her gaze 

"I'm done just watching you suffer," he said quietly but firmly. "You don't have to do this alone. I'll give the speech for you—if you want."

Her eyes widened, surprise and relief flickering across them.

"You've been carrying so much on your own. Let me carry this part. Please."

(Y/n) blinked, overwhelmed but grateful, the knot in her chest loosening slightly. Somehow, her rising panic began to calm, and the flickering screen no longer provoked her so sharply.

"Okay."

_______________

Kunikuzushi paced anxiously around the corner of the street outside their house, the morning air cool against his skin. His thoughts tangled like the bustling leaves stretching from the neighbourhood trees, debating whether he had the courage to ask (Y/n) to walk to school with him today. 

He needed to tell her everything—no more secrets, no more silence. He had to tell her before he went insane.

Inside, Aether had just finished tucking (Y/n) back into bed, his calm presence a soothing contrast to the storm swirling outside. As Aether stepped out and closed the door behind him, their eyes met—an awkward, charged moment hanging between them.

"...Uh, hi." Aether dipped his head in a polite, cautious bow. "I hope you didn't end up the target of any bullying while (Y/n) and I were busy."

He knew exactly why the violet-haired boy had come. But Aether was no longer the golden boy who put everyone else before himself. For once, he wanted something just for him. He was aware that (Y/n) clearly favored him over Kunikuzushi, yet he couldn't blame his own anxiety—after all, the other boy shared a long, complicated history with her.

Kunikuzushi's heart pounded in his chest. Drawing a steadying breath, he stepped forward and spoke softly, "Aether... can I talk to you for a moment?"

Aether turned to face him, his expression calculated yet curious, before nodding.

_____________

She'd reassured him she'd be fine after the near-panic attack in their hallway—the one that left her breathless and trembling—especially after he stubbornly refused to leave her bedside and head to school. But deep down, she didn't want to hold him back any longer.

With a casual air that barely masked her exhaustion, she promised she wouldn't skip meals and that a little rest would be enough to pull her through. And though she agreed to let him take over the speech, she still vowed she'd wake up in time, fully recovered, ready to deliver it herself. That was just who (Y/n) was: a relentless go-getter determined to get things done, no matter what.

Yet... here she was, staring at her screen, her mother's name glowing brightly, a weight heavier than any physical pain pressing down on her chest. She wanted to answer, wanted to say something—anything—but the words tangled in her throat like the sorest knot she'd ever felt.

'I'm fine. I'm strong. I don't need help.' She told herself.

The phrases repeated like a broken record in her mind, but the truth clawed beneath the surface. She wasn't fine. She wasn't strong right now. And she desperately needed someone—anyone—to lean on. She did not know what was happening anymore. She had been tired for days, weeks, months, even.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitant. But as the cursor blinked back at her, she felt the panic rising once again, causing her to swallow the words she wanted to say.

'I'm okay. I'm okay. I can do this. I'm strong. I can talk to them and let them know how wrong it was to disown me just like that.'

But she wasn't. Not really.

'I'm okay... I'm okay... This isn't hard... I'm strong...'

Finally, with trembling hands and a shaky breath, she typed a message. 

Not to her mother, but to Aether.

'I'm sorry, can you come back?'

And with one final tap, she sent it, the small plea floating out into the quiet morning.