Oblivion • Akutagawa x Reader

•37

"I can't hate you"

You can see in his eyes the sincerity to his words, speaking as if it has just hit him too; the way he has no choice but to admit his truth.

"I've tried hating you..." Akutagawa admits, breaking eye contact with your for a moment as if remembering a bitter memory of the past. He lets go of you, his hands trailing down until you catch them gently in your own, the feel of even his light touch like electricity on your skin. You listen intently, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to focus on the beats of your heart on his.

"Except I can't, and I won't."

What are the consequences?

The shine that had come back to his silver eyes clouds over with a sudden change of darkness, and Akutagawa hesitantly pulls away from you, looking your face over and visibly stopping himself from reaching out to you, eyes dropping to the floor. You heart drops, and you know what he's about to say before he even opens his mouth.

Akutagawa...

"But [l/n]...I also can't love you."

Don't do this to me.

"Why not?" You ask your question softly, terrified, all ability to breathe leaving you in a span of long seconds.

The cold darkness in his eyes is still present as he finds the best way to formulate his words, his expression in a tight frown, one hand over his heart, remorse apparent, sorrow deep in his next words.

"It doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't make sense?"

"You've received nothing but pain. I remember the look you always had on your face in the Port Mafia...I saw the void you were locked up in."

But I always had you.

"It's never been your fault though!" You insist, trying not to cry, trying to portray security and strength.

"I told you I'd only hurt you."

"I never blamed you for any of my pain. If you're lying to me right now, please don't break my heart further. If you mean it, ask me to walk away again, and I won't come back. I'm debilitated from everything I've endured but I've always pushed back for you. From the very beginning, it's always been about you!"

Something inside you breaks, and the exhaustion you had been repressing falls on you like a weight held for too long finally drops, mirroring itself in the way you spoke to the mafia's rabid dog, a supposedly heartless young man with a soul yearning to break free. Black splotches appear in your vision and you realized your body can't take the exertion of energy you've exhausted anymore.

Hold on.

Please just hold on.

"Why don't you just let me go? Why can't you understand?! Why do you keep fighting for someone that doesn't know how to love at all?!" Akutagawa yells at you, his tone defensive, his whole body ready to react and run. He looks mad, stressed, like his mind is working at hundreds of kilometres per hour but he can't grasp any of his thoughts.

Because I love you more than death loves the living.

"Because I know it's not your fault. It's not you that has to be sorry for the way you are. You're on overdrive with all the memories I've given back to you. It's ok, I don't blame you. I don't blame you for being afraid either and not wanting to say it. But don't leave me waiting for something you don't want." Your response is terrifyingly calm after some of your screws undid themselves, your composure falling apart.

"I was better off not remembering you."

You never answered me...you only said you can't love me.

But do you?

Do your words that tear at my heart prove I've been chasing after nothing from the beginning?

Chasing nothing...

You take a step back, hand reaching out to the door as your mind spins, eyesight dizzying, your will to keep standing gone. Nausea suddenly overtakes you, anxiety spiking as your heart breaks into tiny pieces of sharp glass, your tears falling down your face reflecting the excruciating heart break you were experiencing as you fought to stumble outside of his room.

Just kill me.

That would hurt less.

What happened to the us from before I took away your memories?

Was that reality really as fragile as glass menagerie?

At one point, you made it out of his room and into the halls, one hand holding on the wall to keep yourself up, your legs wobbling as your crying turned to sobs, head tilted downwards as all ability to see left you, your whole mind shutting down as you fall to the floor, landing on your knees, hands hitting the ground to keep your head from hitting the floor.

History just repeats itself.

Your hair falls forward, the ground moving in circles, your body falling on the floor, your will to get back up slaughtered. 

Why did I ever try?

I can just let go now. I can give up my fight.

I'm not wanted.

I'm not loved.

The floor becomes your bed, your eyes giving way and your mind turning off as you fall deep into the arms of fatigue, tears still trickling down your cheeks.

I can't keep going.

I have no reason to.

•••

"You know we have a doctor at our own agency."

"She isn't part of the agency. She belongs to Fitzgerald, and if she escaped from that, then what happens in our walls is still Mafia business."

"Hmmm...fine."

"You shouldn't be here."

"I'm making sure she's treated well."

"Why?"

"Last time I left her here she was gone for months."

"She consented to that."

"The Port Mafia gave her an unfair deal."

"Mmm, I suppose...but the girl always had a choice."

Two voices go back and forth for a while, both whispering, but the difference in them very clear. You could recognize one of them easily. Dazai never failed to be easy to distinguish, but the other one took you a bit of work to remember. After some pondering, you concluded it was the voice of the Port Mafia executive Kouyou.

You try to open your eyes, the process slow, the fluorescent light above you making your eyes flinch as they make the attempt to adjust. You see doubles of everything, and somehow the colours all around you seem so bland. There's nothing you look forward to when open you eyes, except the natural human curiosity to know where you were; the last thing you can recall being crying in the narrow, dark Port Mafia halls.

You try to move, the whir of machines attached to you bothering your ears, but you can't. Not because you're restrained - you don't feel any pull of metal on your wrists or legs - but because you don't have the will to. You feel like a soulless body being kept alive without any purpose anymore.

I fought to only fail again and again.

I fought to live and find the love I had lost.

So where's the point in continuing if I am not even good enough?

"She's awake."