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gigiluna11 · 5 years

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Shame, Part 1

Here is chapter 3 of The Consequences of Falling in Love with a Sociopath.

Creators: @kahcicamera and me

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19454281/chapters/46948348

Shame, Pt. 1

As per tradition, Yoshino was in the midst of going through her closet as the next season approached, seeing what she would keep and what needed to be discarded and replaced with something new. Digging in the back of her closet she found many garments that had gone untouched for months, dresses, skirts, blouses, you name it, and even deeper underneath them, one suspicious purse.

She pulled it out slowly, brows furrowed as she tried to remember why she had carelessly shoved it so deep in her closet that it hadn’t seen the light of day in a long, long while. She turned it around in her hands, examining the exterior. Had it been faulty? Perhaps it had been damaged… Suddenly, Yoshino’s face blanched in embarrassment. The handbag itself had nothing to do with why it had been hidden away. She brought a shaky hand to the zipper, her lips tucked as she slowly unzipped the main chamber of the purse, revealing the bright red fabric of the item tightly stuffed inside.

At the sight of it she was plunged into completed inner turmoil. It was all a big misunderstanding, of course. Immediately, she went about justifying why she had it in her possession, even if it was a conversation contained within her own head.

She hadn’t meant to take it, it just kind of… happened.

It was a night spent like many others, applying bandages and salve to a man who was obviously letting his elder beat him on purpose. Kirishima had shown up at her door at a godforsaken hour, the insincere grin on his face as she ushered him inside with an eye roll and gesture of the hand. He peeled the red garment off his back to reveal bruises blooming on his ribs, poking his fingers into them almost playfully to show her how the color changed with the pressure of his fingers. Yoshino had winced at the sight of them, large and a deep purple despite having only recently been dealt. After tending to his wounded torso he made his usual attempts to bargain for more time, asking to lay next to her when he knew the answer was no, she forced him out for the night and promptly went back to bed.

Yoshino had gotten up the next morning and there it was, his hoodie from the night before draped over the arm of her couch. At first she looked at it curiously, groggily trying to remember where it had come from. With a shrug she went about her morning and preparing breakfast.

As the day went on, she found the garment getting harder to ignore. While she sat there on the couch, cross-legged and eating some eggs out of a little bowl, her attention was continually brought back to it, just glances out of the corner of her eye and then she would refocus on her television. When she did her laundry for the day, eyeing it every time she passed through the main room as she gathered all her dirty clothes up and loaded it into the washer. Before she realized it, she had crossed the room and approached the couch, reaching out and running her hand over the fabric.

She pulled back suddenly, eyes wide with embarrassment as she realized what she had done. She forced herself to resume her morning routine, going to get ready in any other room where it would be out of sight, out of mind. It worked, for a little while, at least.

It was like some weird showdown after that, her eyes narrowing on the sweatshirt each time she passed the couch, a weird desire to touch it bubbling in her and numerous frustrated sighs as she stomped the urge down. She kept going about her chores, but continually found herself staring at it, drawn to it like shavings of iron to a magnet. After a few passes, she found herself beside the arm of the couch again, a groan escaping as she glared at it with a wrinkled nose. This time she didn’t stop with running her hand over it, she picked it up, holding it up in front of her torso, and as much as she tried to suppress it, she had to wonder how comfortable it would be to wrap around her shoulders and zip herself into it.

Yoshino looked around hesitantly, scanning for Kirishima, who very well could be watching her from anywhere at any time. She didn’t hear anything, there was nothing to be seen, she was alone in her room, not a soul there to see her give into the weirdest urge she had ever had. At least, up to that point in her life.

Quickly she shoved her arms into the sleeves and immediately let out a pleased hum. The fabric was soft and warm against her bare arms, and it was more than comfortable, she was delighted in the way it felt to be enveloped in a garment so much larger than she was. She couldn’t help but smile contentedly.

She fumbled around with the sleeves, flopping them slightly since they were too long for her arms. Without thought, she brought the extra length over her hands up to her face and breathed in deeply.

The scent that greeted her was pleasant; distinct, yet not overpowering. It had become familiar to her, she’d caught it in the subway, would catch a waft whenever he would bring his body closer than comfortable, it had even floated into a fever dream she’d had. The fragrance wasn’t one that she could name, but whatever it was, it was calming and warm and comfortable and…

Oh god, this is weird.

She froze in shock, suddenly appalled by her own actions. Not only had she picked up someone else’s clothing, but she put it on and then proceeded to sniff it and even take pleasure in it. And still, she was still having difficulty removing the hoodie now that she had its soft warmth.

There came a knock at her door, and if she hadn’t already been in horror about the urges she had unexpectedly indulged in, she was now in a full-blown panic.

Yoshino shrugged out of the garment quickly, nearly tearing it off her body. That’s when she should have put it back where she found it. If she had just draped the garment over the arm of her couch where it had been left before no one would have every been the wiser. But that isn’t what she proceeded to do. No, prior to answering her door, she ran and shoved it into the fateful bag and both items deep into the back of her closet, a hasty “I’m coming!” yelled across her living space to whoever was on the other side of the door.

She would later convince herself that the only reason she would hide it was because she wasn’t thinking straight in her panic. Yoshino would never do something so embarrassing. No way, nope.

Trying to seem like everything was as normal as always, she opened the door to Kirishima, hoping that he would ignore her flushed face just like she was trying to ignore her furiously beating heart. Luckily for her, all he had done was furrow his brow, examining her momentarily, but shrugged it off easily and came in without questioning why she was so disheveled opening the door.

It took a few days for him to realize his sweatshirt was missing, and when he had finally asked if she had seen it, she should have given herself an out. She could have cooked up some reason, like she noticed how bad it smelled and threw it into the wash with her clothes. Or that she had hung it in the closet and forgotten to give it back. There we numerous things she could have said that would have let her off the hook.

She didn’t though. She denied having seen it, desperately willing away the redness creeping up to her cheeks. He eyed her once more, quirking his brow in suspicion as she refused to meet his eyes. Kirishima was damn perceptive, but instead of calling out her lie evidenced by what she felt was obvious body language, he let it go again, completely unconcerned from that point forward.

The hoodie never came up in conversation again.

After that moment, she never indulged in her desire to put it on again. But that wasn’t to say that every once in a while, more often than she would really care to admit, she would pull the garment out of her closet. She would bring it to her nose and breathe in deeply, and like the first time, she would be hit by that same embarrassment and banish it back to the depths of her closet. Suffice to say, it was not something she was proud of, that’s for sure.

Now it had been there for a long while, probably untouched for three months, maybe longer. Her face was buried in the garment before she even thought about it, frowning at the discovery that the smell had become faint. She needed a new one…

“Yoshino?” Her eyes snapped open, his voice forcefully shattering her nostalgic moment. “Inamori-san has the car ready whenever you want to go.” She could hear his footsteps getting closer, and a wave of panic fell over her again.

Immediately she tossed it back into the closet, standing and shutting the doors quickly and turning to face him as he entered the room. Her chest was heaving, her face flushed as she stood there, her hands holding the folding door shut. Kirishima froze upon entering her room, eying her warily, her body placed stance that was obviously guarding the closet. “You okay?” She smiled awkwardly, barely managing a nod in the affirmative. Yoshino quickly stepped away from the closet and grasped his arm, turning his attention away from the suspicious sight he had walked in on and nearly dragging him out of the room before he could discover her little secret.

And god, she prayed he wouldn’t notice that her face was burning with shame.

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