HOMRA One shots (K project)

Yata x Reader - Screw You Is A Fancy Way Of Saying You Matter

~ Reader's POV ~

(A/N): Don't ask me about the title, it made me laugh, all right? Okay, enjoy.

Things in life never last, and what sucks the most is that most people have to learn that the hard way.

The hard way could possibly mean anything though; it refers to simple things like petty high school rejection or maybe even just a bad day, to major things that can change your life for the worst in the essence of a second.

Like loss.

That one moment, where you laugh lightly as if it were a joke because of the utter shock, and you try to ignore the pounding of your heartbeat ringing through your ears. Your limbs tremble like they would in the winter cold's bite, and you really don't believe it when the officer removes his hat to hold it close to his chest and gives you a mournful smile with a dismal goodbye to match.

That one moment, is all it takes for the whole world around you to collapse.

And begin to shift,

Into something you never thought it would be.

What am I supposed to do now?

How do I live?

Life can't be normal anymore.

And the answer is always no, it can never be the same.

So what can you do with that?

You can either turn it into such a bitter sorrow, soiling yourself in the rags of despair, like somebody with lone strength would.

Or, you can take that despair and turn it into anger.

A different kind of bitter feeling that eats at your stomach and burns your chest and throat.

It's all that's on your mind, morning noon and night.

All you can imagine is the blissful tightening of your fingers around the killer's throat.

So that's what I did, or more so what I planned to do.

Some bastard killed my parents,

And when I get my fingers around their throat,

They are going to learn the hard way.

Friday

The night had just begun; the city life began to stir as the sun finally set below the horizon, and the clouds hung in the sky like deep shadows, obscuring the stars from my view.

My intent was evident; my stride was quick and unhesitant. I barely noticed many of the other people lazily wandering the streets.

I was headed to a club called The Smiling Skull.

Apparently, there was a gang who hung around there and they had information on the people who killed my parents. Of course, I had a nagging feeling in my gut that I couldn't trust them, but it was nowhere near as strong as the anger that overcame it. Plus, I needed all the help I could get.

I sighed heavily, rubbing my fingers against my temple tiredly. I was waist deep in this whole hunting thing and I swear; it was going to kill me before I could even finish it. I didn't really sleep anymore and if I did, it was only a couple hours here and there, all I ate was leftovers from the fridge or microwavable frozen foods.

My whole shitty apartment that I had been forced into was covered wall-to-wall in newspaper articles, pictures, thread, and any evidence that could be remotely linked to the murder of my parents.