hanatoumahi - Tumblr blog

hanatoumahi · 1 month ago

Text

Three Years (Oikawa x Reader) [One Shot]

Synopsis: Reader is the third-year manager of Seijoh's boy's VBC. She's held onto her feelings for Oikawa for all three years of high school, and plans to keep it that way, until... Warning: FEM!READER, Manager!Reader Angst, Haikyuu!! Spoilers, mutual pining, ambiguous ending

WC: 2.2K

——————————————————————————————————

You look up from your clipboard and steal a glance at Oikawa, who was pumping his fist in the air—a perfect serve. There was a practice match today between Aoba Josai and a college team, and to no one’s surprise, your team had just won against them. You feel a hand creep to your shoulder. Shuddering, you turn to see Mizuki.

“Y/N-san, you’re smiling again,” she smiled mischievously.

“Was not,” you scoffed.

“You totally were!”

“No way, not ever.”

“Oh, c’mon! When are you going to–” she exclaims before your hand flew to her mouth, pinching her lips together with your fingertips.

“Mizuki,” you warned, looking at her playfully, albeit sharply, “Not here.”

She had, much to your dismay, connected the dots about how you feel towards him a few weeks ago. And, since then, has been fixated on “helping” you get with him. She manages a cheeky smile between her pressed lips. She was doing it on purpose. It was amusing at first, but lately there have been one too many close calls. It’s one thing if she knew, but if Matsukawa or Hanamaki knew? You were done for.

Letting go of her lips, the two of you walked over to the team and began passing water bottles and towels to your teammates, who thanked you hurriedly and chugged the water. Despite the win, it was a narrow one. After all, they were playing against a college team.

“Thank you for today!” the team yelled in unison, bowing their heads to the guest team. The opposing side bowed back, and filed out of the gym. Your two coaches clapped, signaling for a team huddle.

“Great job today, everyone! Before we leave, Oikawa has an announcement for you all,” Coach Irihata boomed. He gestured for Oikawa to stand next to him, to which he obliged. Everyone watched tensely as he cleared his throat.

“As Coach said, good job today, everyone! And, now, for my announcement,” he closed his eyes and paused for a moment. The team waiting with baited breath as he continued, “I’ll be leaving for Argentina after graduation.”

No one spoke. They gaped at him with astonishment, pride, and happiness. While you gaped at him in horror. You could feel Mizuki’s stare, she nudged you but you refused to look at her. All you could feel was this cold, heavy pit in your stomach.

“As many of you know, this wasn’t an easy decision for me. To leave everything and everyone that I’ve ever known to pursue volleyball. I’ve been given the privilege to study volleyball under Jose Blanco. But, don’t worry, because I’ll make sure to visit you all!” he joked, to which a couple of guys chuckled at, “Thank you for the past three years, it’s been a long, wonderful journey–and I’m proud to have been your captain this year.”

At this, Iwaizumi, who appeared next to him, punched his shoulder and muttered, “You better.” Which earned a couple snickers from the rest of the group.

Coach clapped once more, “Rest up for tomorrow’s practice, let’s clean this place and get out of here!”

Your mouth felt dry. You knew he had been considering this for awhile, but now reality was sinking in. Mizuki nudges your arm again, this time you look at her. She mouths, Are you okay?

You nod slowly, like the information he announced was being processed in slow motion. Making your way to Oikawa, you tap him on the shoulder. He pauses his conversation with the Coach, and smiles when he sees that it’s you.

“Congrats on the decision, Oikawa!” you chirped.

“Thanks, Y/N-chan! I’ll make sure to visit as soon as I can,” he grinned. You couldn’t help but reciprocate his smile; it was contagious.

“If you don’t, I’ll haunt you in your dreams,” you teased, “You should’ve told me sooner.”

He pouts, “I know, I’m sorry. I got caught up in so many things.”

“Don’t leave without saying goodbye, okay?”

“I won’t, don’t worry,” Oikawa chuckles, ruffling your hair, “I wouldn’t forget to say goodbye to you.”

——————————————————————————————————

After cleaning the gym in its entirety, you beeline for the exit, shouting quick “See you tomorrow’s!” to the team. Unfortunately, Mizuki had other plans and chased after you.

“Y/N-san!” she yelled, “Wait up!”

“I’m fine, Mizuki. Don’t worry about me.”

“Why can’t you just confess to Oikawa-san? He obviously likes you back!”

“Don’t say his name so loudly! What if someone hears you? The last thing I need is one of his fangirls overhearing us, and spreading a rumor about me!” you exhale sharply. You quicken your pace, gripping the strap of your back tighter.

“Sorry!” she exclaims, “But he does!”

“No, he doesn’t. You’re just saying that!”

“He does.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

Mizuki pulls your shoulder back and spins you around, the momentum of the sudden change of direction catching you off guard. You stumble as you find your footing again.

“God, Mizuki, what is your deal?”

“How do you know if he doesn’t? You haven’t even shown him any interest! For three years you’ve liked him. You’re so afraid that he’ll find out, but you won’t even let yourself–”

“Enough, Mizuki,” you hiss with such vitriol in your voice, it shocks both of you. She looks at you wide-eyed.

“Y/N-san, I’m so–”

“Don’t. Even,” you pointedly jab your finger towards her with every word, “I know he doesn’t feel the same. I’ve had to agonizingly sit and watch every time he had a new girlfriend. And, believe me, the way he looks at them is completely different from how he looks at me,” you exclaim exasperatedly. She was no longer looking at you, but she had this expression on her face that made you want to throw up. Was it regret? Sorrow? Sympathy? You knew that she meant well, but you could only take so much.

“I’m sorry, Mizuki, but I’m going to go insane. So please, for my sake, stop trying to push things between me and him. I’m glad you have hope that he likes me, but”—you gesture wildly—“I can’t afford to delude myself into thinking he reciprocates my feelings for him. I can’t.”

Mizuki stands still, as if she were letting you take out her frustrations on her.

“And…” you choke back a sob–looking away, you take a shaky breath and continue, “Maybe it is my fault. My fault that I didn’t throw myself at him more. That I didn’t do more to make him look my way. But, even then, it’s too late!”

“What do you mean?” Mizuki asks in a small voice.

With tears pouring rapidly down your cheeks, you pathetically wail, “Oh, for crying out—You heard him! He’s gonna go to Argentina after graduation. He’s leaving, and I’m staying here.”

Silence falls uncomfortably between the two of you. A silence so palpable it lay slack on your shoulders, as if it were pushing you into the ground. Using your sleeves to wipe your tears and snot like a child, you stood there bawling. When, suddenly, Mizuki’s arms wrap around you. She mutters a quiet apology, stroking your hair gently. You tremble against her chest as she soothed you. Embarrassment burned the back of your neck–you must’ve looked so pitiful.

“Is it so bad that I want him to look at me like that, too?” you sniffle, pressing your forehead against her shoulder, “It’s so selfish to want him to stay here, even though I don’t have that right.”

“No, it’s not,” Mizuki murmured softly, “It’s normal to feel like that. I’m sorry for pushing it so hard.”

Putting your hands on her shoulders, you push yourself away gently from her grasp. Heaving a heartaching sigh, you say, “It’s fine. I just don’t–I don’t want to start something now when I know how it’ll end.”

She looked wistfully into your eyes, an unspoken understanding in hers. You watch her eyes widen slowly, her pupils shaking wildly. She wasn’t looking at you anymore. Rather, she was looking at something behind you. You furrow your brows, before turning around.

Petrified, you watch as Oikawa rounds the corner, sheepishly darting his eyes between you and the ground. But it wasn’t just him. Following suit, Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki reluctantly reveal themselves from the shadows. Their avoidant gazes gave you all the confirmation you needed that they had heard your confessions.

“Was–Was this a set up?” you manage to squeak out, ice-cold dread washing over you as you whip your head to gawk between Mizuki and the boys. Oikawa’s eyes snap up, panic evident in them.

“No. No! Y/N-chan, I’m sorry! We didn’t mean to–”

Breaking free from Mizuki’s embrace, you bolt the opposite direction. Ignoring their calls to you as you raced through the neighborhood. Pure, chilling terror ran through your veins as your adrenaline kicked in. Your back thudded against your side, weighing you down. You hear heavy footsteps following you, footsteps that you could only assume belonged to Oikawa. It was only a matter of time before he was able to catch up, so you rounded the corner. Jumping over a short chain-linked fence, you crouch down behind a car and press your hands against your mouth. Your heart pounded so loudly against you ribs, you thought they were going to break. Beads of sweat ran down your face, and you could feel the beginnings of a headache form on the side of your temple. Never in your life had you wished so badly that the ground would swallow you whole then and there. It wasn’t long when the footsteps that trailed behind you slowed. He had caught up.

“Y/N-chan? Y/N-chan!” you hear him yell.

Huddling into a smaller ball, you can hear him pace around. You were grateful for the dying sunlight–hoping that it would make you harder to see so he would give up soon. Then it went quiet. Though he stopped pacing around the block, you could hear his ragged breathing. You peeked around the car’s bumper–he was just standing there, and though his back turned towards you, he was tense. His chest heaved and his hands clamped to his sides. He was muttering a string of curses and other unintelligible things.

As if he could feel your presence, he turns around and catches you staring at him behind the car. He looks at you owlishly, his lips opening and closing like he was telling you something with words he couldn’t find. You must’ve looked stupid hiding behind that car, like a child cowering beneath their covers from the monster that hid under their bed. You held his gaze for a moment longer like a deer caught in the headlights, before another kick of adrenaline coursed through your body. This time, however, you weren’t as lucky. His hand grabbing your wrist as you tried to run away.

“Y/N!”

“Let. Go. Oikawa,” you screech, annunciating every word with a futile tug.

“Y/N, calm down!” he pleaded with you–and, though you refused to meet his eyes, you could imagine the desperation in them.

“No! Please, let go of me,” you hiccuped.

His grip loosened, “If I do, promise me that you won’t run,” he spoke softly.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly. God, this is embarrassing. Tearfully nodding, you agree that you wouldn’t run because, for some reason, you couldn’t find it in you to leave. Oikawa gently, but reluctantly, put down your hand.

“Why were you there?” you ask in a hushed tone.

“I was there because I heard Mizu-chan say my name. And, well, curiosity got the better of me. I’m sorry for eavesdropping like that, for Iwa-chan and the others, too. It wasn’t right, I know, and what’s done has been done, but I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you murmur, pressing the heels of your palm against your eyes so hard you start seeing shapes. The way strands of your hair clung to your cheeks, dried snot crusting at your flaring nose as you breathed, your puffy, red eyes shining with newly shed tears made you feel disgusting. God, it was humiliating enough that Mizuki saw you cry, but him? You let inhale sharply, “I’m sorry, too.”

He blinks slowly, letting the question sit in the air for a moment, “Sorry? For what?”

“For… earlier,” you reply sheepishly, “I didn’t want you to find out.”

“Why didn’t you?” he asks quietly. There was something about the way he said it that made your heart pang painfully. His tone reminded you of a small child who, despite doing nothing wrong, felt like he was still in trouble.

“Because I felt like it was better that you didn’t know?” you respond, a questioning lilt in your voice, “Putting my feelings aside, you’re my friend. I didn’t want to ruin what we have—or, well, had. I also didn’t want to get in the way of your dreams. Plus, you had millions of fangirls already! And you were dating other people, so, you know, I didn’t want to do anything. I didn’t want to add on, so I kept it to myself.”

After ending your ramble, you became acutely aware of Oikawa’s piercing gaze. It was uncomfortable talking to him like this. Seeing him be so uncharacteristically quiet, so serious and firm—unlike the usual Oikawa who seemed so carefree and flamboyant. From the outside looking in, it almost seemed romantic. Two teens alone beneath the darkening sky. Another beat of silence passes before he breaks the tension.

“I like you, too.”

——————————————————————————————————

A/N:

Sorry for disappearing, guys, I swear I'm alive. I recently rewatched Haikyuu and got into some Seijoh brainrot... This'll be a oneshot, but I plan to do a broader Seijoh x Manager!Reader in the future (If I can). This was pretty hastily written ngl, I just needed to get it out of my system.

49 notes · View notes

hanatoumahi · 8 months ago

Text

Nine Hundred Ninety-Nine Paper Cranes

Synopsis: Movie watching was a tradition that you and Jushiro have every Saturday. It was your turn that week, and your pick was The Notebook. “Will you be a bird with me?” Warning: Fluff, Angst, Modern AU, Spoilers for The Notebook, Ukitake is not terminally ill until later in his life, Established Relationship (Married), Death A/N: I watched The Notebook before writing this fic (it's been, like, two weeks since I've started). I'm sorry if it feels a little weird in some parts, December was a busy month for me and I kind of rushed this. This wasn't for Ukitake Week '24 originally, but I'll post it anyway since it does fit the theme (Day 7: Birthday)

WC: 6.5k (roughly, give or take a few)

August

“Say that I’m a bird!” Allie squealed, excitedly flapping her arms up and down. You had convinced Jushiro to watch The Notebook with you, a movie that he had avoided after hearing the “horror stories” about it. It was a warm Saturday night in August. You and Jushiro had a tradition of watching movies together; it was your turn tonight.You watch as Noah profusely says no until finally giving in,

“You are a bird.”

“Now say that you’re a bird, too.”

“If you’re a bird, I’m a bird,” he smiled before Allie pulled him close, kissing him with all the love in the world. You peek up at Jushiro who had his eyes laser-focused on the endearing scene before him. His arms were wrapped around your body, your back pressed against his chest and your head resting on the crook of his neck. You turn around, facing him with a cheeky grin on your face. He raises his brow, “What is it, love?”

Your grin grew wider, the corners of your lips reaching your eyes. Wriggling out of his arms, you face him, “Say that I’m a bird, Jushiro.”

Amused, he thoughtfully puts a finger on his chin, contemplating if he should play along, “What if I say no?”

“Say it!”

“No.” You gave him a look, earning you a chuckle from your lover, “You’re a bird,” he relents.

“Will you be a bird with me?”

“Of course, my love, why wouldn’t I be?” he replied, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead. You close your eyes and lean your forehead closer, relishing the comforting feeling. Satisfied, you wrapped his arms and continued to watch

By the time The Notebook end, both you and Jushiro were in tears. Him more than you, however.

“Never again! That was too sad, even for me!” Jushiro exclaimed, wiping his bleary eyes with his sleeves. You giggled, this wasn’t the first time you had watched The Notebook, but it was Jushiro’s so you came prepared with tissues. Unraveling yourself from the tangle of limbs you two were in, you sat on his lap facing him. Gently grasping his chin, you told him to close his eyes. They flutter shut as you softly padded the tissue over his damp face, you admired him quietly. His long white hair had been tied back in a low ponytail, and his bangs stuck on his face because of his tears but he looked beautiful all the same. “I’m done,” you say, throwing the crumpled tissue on the coffee table. He opens his eyes, looking up at you through his long lashes, “Thank you.”

You look at him for a moment, admiring him for a little longer before whispering, “I hope that we can grow old together like that, too,” as you cradle his face in your palms. The warmth of your hands against his cold face made him melt into your touch. He buried his face into your hand. Kissing your palm, he replied:

“I as well, my love.”

You stared at each other, smiling stupidly. He twitched, an indicator that a fit was about to occur. Jushiro readied his elbow; violent, dry coughing soon followed, shaking your husband’s body. Climbing out of his lap, you walk into the kitchen to fetch him a glass. Casting a concerned glance his way, you brush his white hair out of his face and give him the water. At first, you both thought that it was just a cough, but now it had been weeks and the cough only turn nastier. He call off from work for a few weeks, and yet, he still wasn’t getting any better, “We should get this checked out.”

“Mmm, I’m sure it’s nothing. It’s just a cough, I’ll be better soon,” he smiled reassuringly, sipping his water before reaching over to set it down on the table.

“Still, I’m worried.”

“If it sets your mind at ease, we can schedule an appointment tomorrow.”

Satisfied with his answer, you bury yourself under his arms once more. Just as you reach for the remote, Jushiro’s hand snatches it away from your grasp.

“Hey!”

“This time I’m choosing!”

That following Sunday, you had driven him to his doctor’s office, not trusting the state your husband was in to drive. You remember that day clearly. It was sunny, but not too hot. The birds chirp and tweet in delight–there was a sweetness to the air. The kind that, when you take a deep breath and exhale, leaves you a giddy feeling knowing that summer is here.

“You fret too much, love. I can drive just fine,” Jushiro said as you two walked into the clinic.

You looked at him incredulously, “With how you’re coughing, you’re lucky I haven’t wrapped you in bubble wrap!”

He shook his head while smiling, “You worry too much.”

November

That was August. It was November now, and months had gone by without incident. The doctors weren’t able to decisively diagnose him, they noted that it was most likely some fibrosis-related issue. However, since Jushiro seemed fine, aside from the coughing, they couldn’t do much besides prescribe some antibiotics and puff medicine. At the very least, the medicine was working effectively, so life moved on as usual.

“Oh, look! It’s snowing outside!”

“Wow, the snow’s come early this year. Do you think I could go outside?”

“I don’t know, Jushiro. You might catch a cold,” you reply, biting your lip. You knew he dearly loved the snow, and depriving him of it made you feel bad.

“I think I can weather a cold just fine,” he jokes.

“Oka–Hey!” you yelp, a snowball narrowly missing your cheek.

“Sorry!” he laughed, readying another snowball before aiming.

“That’s not fair! You had a headstart!” you scream, dashing behind the car for protection. You crouch and start packing snow into a tight ball, you peer around the corner to get a better view. But to your surprise, he wasn’t where you thought he was. Confused, you stand up and carefully round the corner slowly. Hoping to keep your element of surprise.

A loud cough cracks through the quiet air like a whip, causing you to snap your head up.

“Jushiro!” spotting him kneeling in the snow, “Let’s get you inside.” You shoulder his weight, he leans onto your smaller frame for support causing you to stagger. His thin arms dug into the side of your ribs, causing you to cringe in pain.

“S-sorry,” he wheezes, stabilizing his footing as the two of you trudge through the snow.

“We need to get you out of those clothes now.”

Hurrying into your house, you lead Jushiro into your living room, “Stay here, I’ll get you new clothing,” you yell, dashing out of the room. Throwing your closet doors open, you grab an armful of thick sweaters and a change of pants.

“No more snow for you, Mister,” you jest, attempting to lighten the mood. Lifting the hem of his sweater, you wipe his back with a hand towel.

“Oh,” he rasps, “I’ll be fine, love—A little snow can’t hurt.”

“Lay with me?”

Without saying a word, you crawl into bed and curl up next to him.

A loud, crackling cough startled you awake the following morning. You sit up and whip your head towards Jushiro, who lay beside you. His complexion was paler, and beads of sweat ran down his cheek.

“I don’t… feel too good…” Jushiro croak weakly, his voice gravelly and low. Your stomach dropp, Did he have a fever? Putting the back of your hand against his temple, He was burning. jumping out of b you grabb the thermometer in your nightstand’s drawer. You brush his bangs to the side and hover the thermometer gun over his forehead.

Beep. Beep.

You stare at the screen, waiting for the results to load.

… It read 40° C.

Fuck.

“We need to get you to the hospital,” sitting Jushiro up. His back was drenched with sweat, leaving a large, dark stain on the b.

You help him into another change of clothes, careful to layer him.

Locking the front door, you shuffle Jushiro to your car.

“Pneumonia.”

You watch as the assistant nurse clicks-clack away at the doctor’s diagnosis.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Ukitake. He’ll need to stay in the hospital so we can monitor his condition. He’ll be transferred to one of our private rooms as soon as possible.”

Though you nod, you can feel your heart break a little. You didn’t want to be away from him no matter what.

“Should his condition worsen,” the doctor began slowly, “He’ll need assisted breathing, that is one of your options if you want it.”

Jushiro squeezes your hand, you were met with his smile when you turn to him, “Thank you, I’ll talk to my wife about it.”

”I’ll leave you two to talk then,” the doctor replies, making eye contact with the nurse as he nods to the door. She reciprocates his nod and finishes up the last of her documentation.

You turn to Jushiro as soon as the two leave, your hands becoming clammy with anxiety at the thought of him alone in a hospital room, “Will you be okay?”

“I’ll manage, darling. Don’t worry, okay? I’ll be out soon.”

“I’ll visit as often as I can, okay?”

Squeezing your hand once more, he replies, “I’ll look forward to them.”

Ding!

The elevator door slides open. You make your way down the hall, holding a box of ohagi in one hand and a bag of clothes in the other. It was the following day, and you had requested time off work to spend the first few nights at the hospital with Jushiro. You had wanted to stay last night, but it was too late to call in.

Knock, knock.

“Come in!” you hear a familiar voice call out beyond the door.

Pushing down the handle with your elbow, you enter Jushiro’s room. It was quaint, his bed was off to the left and parallel to the large windows that overlook the garden. Various monitors and medical equipment were mounted at one side and on the other were two comfortable-looking blue chairs. Apart from the stained wood wall behind Jushiro’s bed that matched the floors, the walls were painted white. A T.V. was mounted on the far corner of the wall.

He was looking out the window when you entered. You follow his gaze, and you find that he’s staring at a bird’s nest. Shifting his position in bed, he turns his head to you, “Hi, darling.”

“Hey! Bird watching?”

He blushes, a little embarrassed he had been caught, “Yeah, I think there’s a family up there.”

Setting your things down, you walk up to the window, “Oh, yeah. I think there is a family up there.”“What kind of birds do you think they are?” “I don’t know, I can’t see well enough,” you squint, tiptoeing to get a better view. “They reminded me of The Notebook.” Turning around, you smile at him, “Because of the birds?” “Because of the birds,” he nods. “You know, it’s Saturday and it’s my turn to pick…” you trail off, a Cheshire-like grin gracing your features.

“No, not again!” he cried.

You made it a point to visit Jushiro every Saturday to uphold your traditions.

Shunsui was, of course, the first to visit aside from you. The first time he visited, he barrelled into the room while Jushiro was asleep and startled him awake. He frequented Jushiro’s room, barreling in with an armful of snacks, and was often accompanied by his other colleagues. Today was no different, he came barging in with yours and Jushiro’s favorite chips. Which earns a glare from you, nodding towards your sleeping husband. He flashes an apologetic smile, mouthing, “Rukia’s here too.”

As if on cue, she steps into the room, “Hi, Y/N-san, I hope we aren’t intruding.”

“Nonsense, Rukia, you two aren’t a bother at all,” you

“Hm? What were you two watching?” asks Rukia, peering over your shoulder.

“Oh, we were watching The Notebook,” you reply, casting a glance at your laptop's screen. It was paused on the boat scene where Noah was rowing Allie through the lake, “Well, I am. He doesn’t like it all that much because of its ending.”

Shunsui put a hand to his chin, deep in thought. He stares intently at the birds on your screen, and you raise a brow, but before you can ask what was the matter, he suddenly exclaims, a lightbulb in his head shining brightly: “Senbazuru!”

“Bless you.”

“No, senbazuru!”

Blinking owlishly, you look at Rukia who, much to your dismay, also mirrors your confusion, “What?”

“You know, fold 1,000 paper cranes?” he continues as if he were stating the obvious.

Perplex, you question him again, “Paper cranes? Why?”

“You don’t know what senbazuru is? It’s this old legend that, if you fold 1,000 paper cranes, your wish will be granted! But you only have one, so be careful what you wish for,” he clarifies, giving you his signature smile.

Finally understanding what he was hinting at, you look at Jushiro who was sleeping, “Yeah, maybe…” you trail off.

“I’ll bring origami paper next time I visit then,” Shunsui said brightly. Smiling at his antics, you look at Jushiro once more, your smile fading slightly. An action that didn’t go unnoticed by your husband’s assistant.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, Y/N-san,” Rukia smiles kindly, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah! He’s much stronger than you think–trust me, I know,” Shunsui chimes in, flexing his muscles, causing you to laugh. But you knew better.

“I’d appreciate it, thank you.”

“I’ll come back tomorrow with the paper, okay? I just swung by to check up on you two,” Shunsui nodding towards the door. He carefully placed the snacks at the foot of Jushiro’s bed and gestured for Rukia to go first.

“See you soon, Y/N-san!” Rukia waves, beaming brightly.

“See you, you two!”

Jushiro stirs in his sleep before slowly opening his eyes, “Mm… Was Shunsui here?” he asks.

“Ah, yeah he was; he came here to drop by some snacks but didn’t want to wake you, so he left.”

“Shame, I would’ve loved to go talk to him,” he smiles sadly as he props himself up. You’ve noticed that he’s become more tired as of late, which causes your heart to ache.

“He said we should make paper cranes,” you blurt out.

“Paper cranes? What for?”

Biting your lip, you were sure you sounded stupid for what you were about to say, “To make a wish come true.”

What you were referencing dawn on Jushiro. He chuckles–He would’ve asked what you would’ve wished for but he knew the answer.

“Do you know how to fold a crane?”

“No…” you reply sheepishly.

“Come here, I’ll teach you,” Jushiro says, beckoning you to come closer.

“We don’t have paper, though. Shunsui said he’d bring some origami paper tomorrow,” you grimace, not wanting to leave him alone to ask a nurse for paper.

“That’s alright, we’ll…” he trails off, looking for something–anything remotely foldable, “Aha! This’ll do,” Jushiro exclaims as he picks up a candy wrapper. Smoothing out the crinkled plastic, he carefully walks you through each step of making a crane.

“I know it’s a little hard to see, but bear with me a little,” he chuckles, folding the wrapper corner to corner. You lean over his bed, crossing your arms to lay your head in them. You watch intently as he skillfully folds the paper into a crane.

“Ta-da!” cheering as he displays the small papercraft in his palms. Taking the crane from his hand, you marvel at his dexterity to be able to create something so small.

“There, now we have crane number one!” he said triumphantly.

“Knock-knock!” came a muffled, yet familiar, voice.

“Come in!”

Shunsui, in his usual splendor, struts in with a large paper bag with what you assume to be the origami paper. His eyes lit up when he saw his best friend “Jushiro! You’re awake!” he pauses and look at the two of you, a boyish smile resting on his features. You sat on the edge of Jushiro’s bed, braiding his long white hair, “Am I interrupting?”

“You aren’t, don’t worry,” Jushiro laughs weakly, “She’s helping me with my hair since it keeps getting caught in the wires.”

“What’s in there?” you ask, nodding towards the bag, wondering what its contents could be. Surely a stack of colorful paper didn’t warrant a bag of that size.

“I’m glad you asked,” Shunsui grins mischievously as he reaches in and grabs a large, white box, “Voila!”

You gasp as he pulls out a home projector, “Shunsui, you shouldn’t have!”“I figured that watching on your laptop was a little cramped–don’t worry! It wasn’t just from me, everyone pitched in a little, too.” “Tell everyone that they have my thanks, this is very kind of you all,” Jushiro smiles sweetly as Shunsui places the box in his lap.

“And, of course, here’s the origami paper!” he exclaims, plopping a stack of brightly patterned paper still in its plastic onto your husband’s lap.

You took the box from his lap, running your nail through the tape. You study the projector, eyeing its buttons

“It works!”

“Woo!”

“What should we watch?”

The sun slowly eases down the horizon, and bright gradients of blues and pinks fill the sky. Jushiro had fallen asleep hours ago, leaving you and Shunsui to fold the paper cranes in his stead. Shunsui looks out the window and down at his phone’s clock.

“I should go soon.”

“How many cranes did we make today?”

“Counting today…” you point at each crane, quietly iterating each number under his breath, “We made 28 today!”“28 down, 972 more to go!”

Shunsui pauses before exiting the door, he turns and glances at Jushiro one last time before turning to you. He smiles, the kind of smile that telepathically tells the receiver, “It’ll be alright, don’t worry.” You try to muster the strength to return it, but when you do, it isn’t the kind that is comforting, no. It was a defeated type of smile. You saw his eyes soften, was it pity? Comfort? You didn’t know. He motioned for you to follow him, and you shook your head, nodding towards Jushiro.

“It’ll be quick,” he mouths. Biting your lip, you quietly trail after Shunsui. Looking back at your husband, you let out a small sigh and shut the door gently.

Shunsui leans against the wall opposite to the door, “How’ve you been, Y/N?” he asks almost immediately.

“Good–I’ve been… good, you?”

He raises a brow but thankfully doesn’t probe you further, “Same old, same old. Busy as always.”

You hum, staring at your shoes.

“Everyone misses him.”“Mm…”

“How bad has he gotten?”

You let that question hang in the air for a little while, the silence becoming suffocating. You hadn’t verbalized your troubles to anyone, so it felt foreign to you to be so forward with how you felt about it all, “He’s…” you suck in a cold, sharp breath, “He’s been… better.”

“As in?”

“The… doctors tell me he doesn’t have much time left until his condition worsens,” you start slowly, feeling the tears well up, “Maybe, like, a year left? Something like that. And that’s if we’re lucky,” you hiss bitterly.

Suddenly, you felt warmth engulf you, a large hand rubbing your back gently. Knowing the hospital has thin walls, you sob quietly into Shunsui’s chest. You shook violently as he held you steady, letting you soak his shirt with your tears.

“I’m s-sorry,” you hiccup, your hands rubbing your puffy eyes furiously. You realize how stupid you must look to passersby, wailing in the middle of the hallway like that.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. There’s no need to apologize,” he says as he rubs circles on your back, “It’s not anyone’s fault.” He gingerly separates himself from you, patting you gently on the shoulder, “Let’s get you a drink, yeah?”

You trail after him, each footstep that you take feeling heavier than the last. He leads you to a vending machine, asking you what you would like and that it would be on him.

“Water’s fine.”

He punches in the numbers and slides a wrinkly bill into the slot–cursing when the machine refuses to accept it. Eventually, it does and the bottle tumbles down and he reaches into the door to grab it. Giving you the bottle, Shunsui sits next to you. You thank him and sip the water slowly.

“Do you think he’ll get better?” you murmur. Shunsui didn’t look at you for a while, wondering if you meant to say that out loud or not before finally settling on, “I… don’t know.”

A thick, uncomfortable silence settles on your shoulders. You felt small sitting on that bench as you sip quietly on your juice, like a kid who was just sent to the principal’s office and was now waiting for their name to be called.

He turns to you once more, “I should go, I shouldn’t leave Rukia alone for too long.”

“Take care, Y/N.”

“You as well, Shunsui.”

He walks you back to Jushiro’s room, patting your back one last time before he turns to leave. You watch his figure turn the corner, disappearing from your sight. Unlocking the door slowly, you enter the room.

Snow was always a sight that you and Jushiro looked forward to. The stiff winter wind knocks on the hospital's windows as if they were asking the two of you to come out and play. It pains you to look at the snow; it bore as a reminder of when the two of you sought refuge in the thick, warm duvet of your shared bed. Now, there was a different kind of cold that you had not gotten us to.

It reminded you that you were the reason that he was in the hospital.

“I hope the blizzard dies down soon. My joints ache too much in the cold and it’s hard to walk,” Jushiro sighs. You hum in agreement, as much as you both love the snow, the cold was becoming unbearable even with heating. The icy weather seeped through the window cracks, sending chills every once in a while if the wind blew hard enough.

“Yeah, I do, too. It’s hard to drive in this weather.”

“You know, you don’t have to visit me so often, I don’t mind,” you gaped at him, which he quickly waved his hands around and followed up with, “Of course, I love your company but I don’t want me to start affecting your work life!”

“Of course not! You are so much more important than my job Jushiro!”

“I know but,” he looks down, “You’re tired, and you do so much for me already. And I don’t want you to get even more tired.”

“Jushiro, you are the light and love of my life, there is nothing more that I want than to be with you always,” you say, pressing your forehead against his. You could feel his body relax under your touch, making you feel warm inside, “It’s your turn this week, what movie do you want to watch?”

Like the snow that swirled furiously outside, Jushiro’s health took a nosedive in mid-November. He was moved from the Medicine Unit to the Intensive Care Unit as a result. New tubes and wires were hooked onto him; his lungs had begun to deteriorate at a faster rate than you nor the doctors anticipated so he was given an oxygen tank for assisted breathing.

It broke your heart to see Jushiro so frail. Some days he would be wide awake, watching the movies you put on intently and laughing with Shunsui while folding cranes. Other days he was quiet, moving sluggishly, if at all. There were times when you sat in his room for hours just watching him sleep. He looked so peaceful then. His coughing only worsened as well, his once dry hacking turned into a croaking, wet cough that wracked his whole body.

“Y/N.”

Startled you put a hand on your heart, “Ah! You’re awake!” He had slept most of the day away, only waking up when the nurse brought in his lunch. It was evening now, and you, much to your dismay, couldn’t stay the night so you were gathering your things.

“D-do you remember when we first met?” he asks hoarsely.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I? Shunsui wouldn’t leave us alone until we went on a date!” you chuckle fondly, vividly remembering a young Shunsui hounding you and Jushiro until you two became official.

“You were so beautiful, and you’ve only grown more radiant since then,” he chuckles dryly.

You groan, “Absolutely not! I looked so bad!”

The two of you were sophomores in college when you had met, at a party hosted by Shunsui no less. By some miracle, you had befriended Shunsui–a dynamic that you still find funny because you still aren’t exactly sure how the two of you became friends. Jushiro, who still had short hair back then, was introduced to you that night by him. You remember thinking he was so handsome and feeling embarrassed because your hair had refused to cooperate before you came to the party, leaving one side with more volume than the other. Shunsui roared with laughter when you struggled to introduce yourself (you elbowed him later for that).

And then?

Then, the rest was history.

“It’s been so long.”

“It has…”

“Why do you ask?”

“I had a dream of when we were young again. It felt like time had gone backward and I was there again,” he spoke softly, reaching his hand out to the ceiling as if the dream was tangible. But a memory, at the end of the day, is just a memory. You grasp his hand, lacing your fingers between his. He looks at you adoringly, “In sickness and in health, until death do us part,” he breathes quietly.

Your eyes widen. It pains you to hear those words from him again. Squeezing his hands tightly, you reply:

“Until death do us part.”

December

Each time that Shunsui visited, he always brought something. Whether it was snacks, a new CD to watch on the projector, or a bagful of paper cranes from everyone at the workplace, his arms were never empty.

Today, though, he visited empty-handed. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“I would’ve come sooner, but traffic was giving me hell!”

Giggling, you reply, “It’s okay, Shunsui. No gifts today?”

He dramatically sits on the chair next to you, “No, not today. I had no time, plus! It’s his birthday soon!”

You look over to Jushiro who was sleeping soundly, “What’re you going to get Jushiro for his birthday?”

Shunsui reclined in his chair and folded his arms, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling, “I’m not sure yet. When you’ve been friends for so long, you kind of just forget about the gifts and celebrate together.”

You nodded, "I get that, yeah."

"I'm sure I'll think of something, though," his gaze shifting to the movie in front of him. It was Jushiro's turn this week, he had chosen to watch Kimba: The White Lion, a favorite of his. However, no more than half an hour into the movie he was out cold. It was like this often; him falling asleep mid-movie, meaning that paper crane-making was left to you and Shunsui. Nevertheless, your movie-watching tradition held strong. Even if he was asleep for most of it.

The movie ends soon, and Shunsui rises from his seat, "Same time next week?" "Of course, where else would I be?" you mused. He grinned, tipping his hat and out the door he went, turning the knob and letting go when the door shut to not make noise.

“Oh, look, the snow’s calmed down some.”

He was right, the snow had slowed to a near stop. Beyond the glass and its frosty vignette, the courtyard looks like a winter wonderland.

Knock, knock.

“Come in!”

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Ukitake, I’m just here to check in,” the nurse bow before entering the room.

The nurse studies Ukitake’s vitals, jotting down notes about his health that you couldn’t see.

“Excuse me, do you think I could go out in the snow?” Jushiro ask while turning over his arm so that she could check his IV.

She smiles apologetically, “No, I’m sorry. We don’t allow patients to go outside for safety reasons.”

“Ah, not even if it’s my birthday?”

The nurse chuckles, “No, I’m sorry. Not even for your birthday,” she replies, finishing up the rest of her routine check-up. Putting her clipboard aside, she clicks her pen closed, “Have a good day!”

“Thank you!”

You could tell Jushiro was saddened that he couldn’t go outside, and that’s when an idea hit you.

“I have an idea,” you tell him as you take a plate from the stack.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll be right back!”

He looks at you, perplexed at what you were planning. Marching out of the room and down the hallway, paper plate in hand, you press the elevator button. You wait a couple of seconds before it dings and it opens.

You shivered as you stepped into the courtyard, the biting wind lashing at your face. Crouching down, you scoop up handfuls of snow onto the plate.

“You brought back snow for me?” he laughed, taking the plate from your hand and putting it on his lap.

“Surprise…!”

He smiles and looks at his lap. Jushiro carefully sits up and pokes the soft snow, tracing shapes and circles on it. You lean down, folding your arms and resting your head on them. You watched him quietly as he drew a smiley face in the snow. You giggled; he’s so beautiful.

The longer you stared, the more your brows furrowed. White. The walls, his complexion, the world outside, the snow. It was all white. The longer you stared at him, the more your eyes unfocused until his figure became blurry. white gown he donned and his pale features did little to aid his camouflage. He blends into the snow seamlessly. As if he wasn’t there anymore like the wind had carried him away—as if, he too, was just another one of the snowflakes whisked away by the biting gales of winter.

This pungent, vile feeling of pure, unadulterated hate fester in you. It filled your heart to the brim with guilt knowing that if only you had insisted more, maybe he would’ve gotten a diagnosis faster and that he could’ve had a better chance to live longer. Jushiro reassures you that you were not to blame, that it was his stubbornness that prevented him from getting help, but it did not aid the anxiety that weighed on your shoulders. You hate that Jushiro was ill and that there wasn’t a cure, but most of all, you hate that you were at his illness’ mercy.

“Love? Why’re you crying?”

Your head snaps to Jushiro, his cold hand wiping tears from your cheeks.

“Ah! I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was—” You shied away from him, furiously wiping away your tears with your sleeve. You could feel his stare, and you could practically imagine his face. That look of utter heartbreak.

“Y/N, hey, look at me,” Jushiro says softly, gently cradling your face in his hands. You cast your gaze aside, unable to look him in the eyes, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m just…”

“Scared?”

“Yeah, just a little.”Jushiro goes quiet for a little while, unsure of what to say. Finally, his hands let go of your face, and instead, leading your hands to the plate full of snow that had already begun to melt, “Do you see this?”

Curious, you straighten your back a little to see what he has done. On the plate, he drew a stick figure drawing, of what you could only assume to be you two, encapsulated within a heart with v-shaped birds dotting the surrounding area in the snow.

“Remember when I asked you if you would be a bird with me?” you hum, indicating that you remembered, “In our next life, Y/N, I think we should be swans. I hope that we’re swans. Will you be a swan with me in our next life?”

“I will be whatever you want, so long as I’m by your side,” you reply shakily, wiping stray tears, “But why swans?”

“Well, they’re a symbol of love, aren’t they?” he says, nodding to the little birds he drew, “We’ll find each other in our next lives as swans, I’m sure.”

“We should’ve made paper swans instead of cranes then!” you reply cheekily, feeling a little better.

Jushiro beamed, “We should’ve,” His features painfully contort, a vicious cough wracking his body. Rising from your seat, you swiftly reach for the glass of water on his stand and sit on the edge of his bed, handing it to him. Jushiro thanked you for the water and chugged it down like a man dying of thirst.

You rub his back while he sits still, “You should rest so you’ll have energy for the party.”

“Mmm.”

Taking the plate from his lap and putting it on the table, you grab the remote to recline his bed and kiss him softly.

“Here’s to another!” booms Shunsui. Your friends and family were packed into his small hospital room.

“Happy birthday, darling,” you coo, gently kissing his cheek. Even after years of marriage, his face flushed pink, which everyone found endearing. Shunsui, especially, laughed heartily next to him.

“Here comes the cake!” Rukia excitedly took the chocolate dessert from its box. It was beautifully decorated with the right cake-to-frosting ratio. “Yachiru helped us bake it!”

“Hehe!” Yachiru giggled, proudly folding her arms.

“3… 2… 1…” you counted down. Together you blew the cake; a chorus of claps and “Woos!” resounded in the small room.

“Happy Birthday!” everyone cheered in unison.

“Thank you for coming everyone!” you wave as the last of your friends and family leave the room, closing the door gently.

“Eventful day, huh?”

“Yeah, it was nice seeing everyone again though.”

“Darling, if it’s not too much to ask, can we watch The Notebook?”

“The Notebook? But it’s getting late,” you said with a questioning lilt in your voice. Night had fallen, and though you couldn’t see, you knew the moon was nearing the apex of the sky.

“Please?” he begs, pressing hands together and bowing his head–praying you would answer his pleas. You giggle, after all, who were you to refuse?

Taking your laptop out of its sleeve, you boot up your projector to connect. You pull up a chair next to Jushiro’s bed, but before you can sit down, he sits up and scoots over on the small bed, patting the empty spot next to him.

“Are you sure?” you query, wanting to double-check. It had been months since you had shared a bed with him and as much as you wanted to lay beside him, you were scared to lie next to him because of the intricate wires that draped along the mattress. Not wanting to accidentally tug on them and cause an accident.

“Of course, what better way to end my birthday than cuddling with my wife?” he teases, picking up another piece of paper. You felt tears well in your eyes, threatening to spill. Your heart squeezes as you lift the thin blanket, brush the tubes and wires to the side, and climb in. You were careful not to lift too much of the blanket and not to send the cranes at the end of the bed flying.

“How many cranes are we at?” eyeing the colorful origami that lay at your feet.

“976 cranes now, I think,” he responds, looking at his tally.

“We’re so close!”

He smiles knowingly. You both knew the inevitable but turned a blind eye to it. Ignorance is bliss, after all. Even if your wish didn’t come to fruition, passing the time by folding these cranes had become a welcome distraction from what was to come. Laying your head on his shoulder, you carefully link your arm around his so you can both fold more cranes. He reaches to the bedside table and grabs more paper, giving you some. Closing your eyes, you relish this moment. You had not known peace until Jushiro came into your life and swept you off your feet.

“I love you, Jushiro.”“I love you more, Y/N.”

He felt so warm, so very, very warm. The heavy feeling in your chest dissipates as you snuggle your head into his shoulder. Blinking slowly, you watch as the… Amidst your dreams, you felt a hand graze yours, taking the slip of paper between your fingers. Soft, cold lips press a ghostly kiss on your temple, sending a chill down your spine. Causing you to bury yourself more in Jushiro’s warmth. You thought you heard a deep, familiar chuckle–followed by a deep rumble and muffled coughing.

When you woke up, the first thing you notice was the blinding light of the sun that flood the room and stung your eyes; it had stopped snowing. The second was a long, flat beep that rang in your ears. That cold, clammy feeling grips your heart tightly as it pounds loudly in your chest. You kept your eyes shut, squeezing them tightly, taking comfort in the void you saw until colorful shapes and patterns circled round and round. You couldn’t move, his head resting on yours. You didn’t want to move, but you knew you had to. Shifting slightly to face him, you peer through Jushiro’s veil of white hair. His eyes were closed and his tender smile was ever present. Though he felt warm, you were sure it wasn’t his own. You felt like you needed to vomit—to cry out, yet, strangely, no tears came. You swallow thickly, staring at his face; he looks serene, the most you have seen in months.

The third was the cranes that were scatter on his and your lap. Counting each carefully, and double-checking to make sure you were correct, you count 23 colorful cranes.

999…

Clenching your fist, you inhale sharply as you feel a dull pain poking the inside of your sweaty palm. His hands clasp yours, your fingers laced in his tightly. You look down, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion; what was in your hand? You open your hand carefully, not wanting to let Jushiro’s hands just yet. You see a flash of green and white pattern paper in the crevice of your hands. Your lips parted, but no words came out–your throat feeling dry.

In your hand, the 1000th paper crane, one fold from completion.

A/N: I'll remaster this someday, probably. Sorry again if there are grammatical mistakes, I tried proof-reading it but I'm super tired lol.

Thank you for reading, as always!

#ukitakeweek2024 #ukitake jushiro #ukitake jushiro x reader #bleach ukitake #bleach fanfiction #bleach #shunsui kyoraku #bleach thousand year blood war #angst #bleach angst #fanfiction #fanfic #bleach shunsui #kyoraku shunsui #self insert #kyoraku shunsui x reader #tw death

50 notes · View notes