#sso.oneshot

[sorasso]

Possession, TojixReader Word count: ~600 Warning: mention of death A/N: decided to start by making a new version of an old fanfic :)

In the end, what endures from our existence are our possessions. That's why you had dedicated your life to amassing them. You had done everything to collect the world, always seeking satisfaction, no matter the cost, to preserve your belongings. So, when you died, there would be people who would speak of you - for you.

"Are you satisfied?"

He hated this philosophy of life, even reproached you for it. It was because of these ideas that he was about to lose the only person he had ever truly wanted to possess.

"I suppose..."

Under the folds of the futon, you ran a hand over the wounds that distorted your body. You couldn't survive this mission, you knew it, you knew it even before accepting it, but you had been asked, you had been called upon. They needed you.

And now, you were there, in the middle of your room, alone with death waiting patiently in a corner.

"I don't understand you."

Sitting in the opposite corner, the only object from your collection that had bothered to come see you on your deathbed. With his head bowed, his hair falling to frame his somber face, Toji didn't dare to approach. It was an inner conflict gnawing at him, a whirlwind of contradictory emotions that left him helpless in the face of the tragedy unfolding before him.

"What have you gained from this? Tell me. What has their validation brought you? You don't need them."

His fists clenched, a deep despair overcame him. He felt powerless, angry at himself for not acting sooner, for not succeeding in protecting you from this destructive circle that had pushed you to this extreme. He paused for a moment before adding in a whisper.

"We don't need them."

You remained silent.

What could you say? Confess a vain hope that your possessions would symbolize a less pitiable life than the one you had lived? There was nothing to say when it was only at the threshold of death that you realized the waste that was your only chance in this existence.

"I don't want to die..."

Your sobs broke the man out of his daze. He hesitated for a moment but eventually approached. Your distress was unbearable. He gazed into your eyes, seeing tears, disappointment, fear.

"I want to live."

Your words merged with your despair, creating a sound so fragile that they forced the man to lean in. With his index finger, he wiped away your tears and traced the contours of your beloved's face. His gestures were filled with unexpected tenderness. But what surprised both of you was the trembling of his finger against your skin.

"Toji?"

A tear. That's what the man allowed himself, or perhaps it was an emotion that slipped away. The droplet fell on your cheek, capturing his attention. He stared intently at this tear, gently bringing his finger to touch its surface, delicately caressing the moist skin before gently wiping it away.

He had moved heaven and earth, but nothing. Nothing could prevent the inevitable. Condemned, he now heard that word only with fatalism.

Condemned, alone with your possessions.

Suddenly, he detected a fleeting movement in the corner of the room. Slowly, he moved closer to you, stretching his body on the cold floor. The cold penetrated his skin, he cared little. His arm reached gently towards you, pulling you close to him, nestling you against his warm embrace. With tenderness, he sealed his love by planting a kiss on your temple, then on your cheek, and finally on your lips. Each of these gentle kisses carried within it the depth of his love. They were silent messengers of all that he could not express with words, a reflection of his despair. His devotion.

"Save me a place right next to you," he whispered, a fragile smile accompanying his words.

Smiling, alone with your possession.

"I will."