Cherry Blossoms ✔️

Sixty Two

Cherry | 62 | Blossoms

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After the third knock, Shouto opened the door of his apartment. He greeted her with a perplexed expression on his face, his eyes squinty and mouth puckered. He wasn't wearing a shirt, his toned chest was exposed and he was only wearing black sweatpants. She couldn't blame him though, after all, it was three in the morning.

"Y/N?" He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "It's the middle of the night. Is something wrong?"

"Can I come in?" Her voice was hoarse—she still felt the shock of the revelation earlier deep in her bones. She'd left Rei after promising her she would find her son and get her out of there. She'd already accomplished half of her promise, but it felt like someone had reached inside of her and had pulled out her intestines.

She didn't wait for his answer, she simply pushed through and made her way to his sofa, sitting down, dropping her belongings on the floor without a care.

Shouto's feet softly patted as he made his way towards her. His movements were careful and meticulously calculated. He knew something was wrong and was scared that any slight movement could set her off. The dim light from his living room lamps warmed her face, and brought color back to it—to which she was grateful for. She probably looked like death itself.

When he sat down beside her and grasped her hand in his, she almost shattered, but she knew she had to hold the waterworks back—she had no right to cry.

"I...I..." she paused, her throat was so dry, and it felt like she had a rock stuck in her esophagus.

"It's okay," he reassured her tenderly. "Take your time."

"I'm not who you think I am," she finally admitted after a long pause. "I'm a monster, Shouto."

"What?" His eyebrows were folded in confusion. "What are you saying?"

"I'm a monster," she repeated again, the words rolling off her tongue easily—like it'd been anticipating them for the longest time and it had finally been satisfied. She looked down at her hand clasped in his. "I don't deserve any of this—I don't deserve you."

"You're not making any sense," Shouto scooted closer to her. "Start from the beginning, what's going on?"

She felt numb to the core. "Do you happen to have a family picture? Of you and your mom and siblings?"

He regarded her oddly. "Yes," he decided to answer her. She was acting very strange. "I do."

"May I see it?"

Bless his soul, Shouto didn't question her weird request and went to his room to retreat what she'd asked for. She had a feeling it was his own way of supporting her, being there for her—he wasn't very good with words. Actions were his way of showing her he cared. Or maybe he was too freaked out to do anything else.

Once he returned, he handed her the photograph and even when she grasped it in her hands she was hoping for a miracle—wishing, imploring that Shouto wasn't actually Rei's son, but fate loved to make her miserable. The picture he had given her was the exact one that Rei had kept under the mattress—her most treasured possession.

"Of course," she whispered softly as she ran her fingertips along the somber face of the white haired woman in the photograph.

"Y/N," Shouto's expression begged for an explanation.

She reached shakily with her hand and caressed his left cheek. "You know I love you, so, so much, right? I wouldn't ever do anything to hurt you intentionally."