FukaFlower One-Shots

Mess In My Head

Summary:

The truth is, he was about to lose it. It had been just one trigger but the bottled up negativity within him had quickly latched on the opportunity to burst out of him. He was so close to breaking his mind and going insane.

And all she could do was be there for him.

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TRIGGER WARNING: depictions/allusions to depression, intrusive thoughts and a strong urge to... *ahem* mentally snap. Fukase in general represents my struggles with mental health so... yeah. Not so happy stuff, beware.

Fukase and Flower are both around 17 - 19 years old. Also note: Meiko is a therapist who specializes in guitar therapy in my headcannons. Rin, Len and Piko are generally other teenaged Loids.

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She wished she could help him.

That was all Flower was thinking as she kneeled on the floor, her hands wrapped around the body of the figure in front of her as she silently lent him her moral support. Nested between both of her hands was a shivering redheaded boy, his forehead leaning on her as his fingers kept fumbling about, trying to find something, anything to hold onto. Even if it was something inanimate and cold and hollow, just anything to keep him rooted to reality. It was so rare to see him in the vulnerable state that he was in, but Flower knew better; this wasn't the first time.

And unfortunately, it will not be the last.

"You're okay, Fukase," She whispered to him, loud enough for him to hear but soft enough so that her words didn't come out harshly. At times like these, Flower would curse at the strength of her voice; so many people have called it a blessing for her to have such powerful vocals that could pierce through the loudest of instrumentals and wildest of guitar riffs.

But now, a voice like hers was barely going to calm down the hyperventilating boy leaning against her.

She pocketed the thought for now. Better to think about that later. "It's okay, you're doing okay," She cooed, resuming the rhythmic pats on his back with her left hand while her right hand, after being scouted for seconds earlier, was now being held tightly by the male Loid as if she was going to disappear if he let go. His head full of scarlet curls being pressed against her chest didn't bother her; it was the uncontrollable shaking of his entire figure that was concerning her. This was a bad one.

"Just breathe, Fukase," She repeated those words for the umpteenth time that day. "You're fine. I'm here. You're not going anywhere,"

For a while, the male Loid didn't say anything and all Flower could hear was the heavy breaths of air that he inhaled while he kept his eyes to the floor, his back rising up and down as he tried to control his breathing. "I... I'm okay, right?" He murmured in a strained voice, a voice that, despite being so accustomed to it by now, still startled the snow-haired teen. "I'm... I'm okay, right? I'm not-I'm not doing anything wrong?"

The repetition in his words was activating all the warning lights in her head. If he had started repeating words this early, that could only mean that it was going to get worse. Flower tried her best to steel herself for what was to come as she pulled Fukase even close to her body, hoping that the physical contact could distract him from his plight.

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But it was useless.

No matter how much she pulled him closer to her, no matter how much she tried to calm him down, Fukase was really starting to lose his grip on reality. He could already feel as if the floor wasn't there, as if he was just floating in the crevasses of his own mind and wandering aimlessly like a dead doll. It was so easy for him to hide his emotions away, keep them in a jar and shelf the thoughts for late night talks with her that were just so soothing . He had planned to do that earlier, in fact, after their sour encounter with some jerks out on the street. After scaring off some sleazy, inebriated and downright rude men that dared to come close to his Flower, Fukase had proceeded to knock some sense into all of their drunk skulls. Literally. And with his cane, to boot.