⚠️TW/ MENTIONS OF ⚠️

Koji was your first everything.

First to call your name like it meant something sacred. First to fall asleep next to you on the couch, pinkies linked and breath steady. First to kiss you — clumsily, shyly, like he thought he’d break if he touched you wrong. First to see you. All of you. First to see the beauty of you without clothes on. The fears you swallowed. The quiet you lived in. The small, strange habits no one else ever noticed — like the way you always hummed when you were in a good mood.

He never told you, but he started writing a song from the notes you hummed on the days spent together on the bus ride home from school. You’d lay your head on his shoulder, forget everything that happens that day when you were with koji. He said it played in his head long after you were gone. You’d catch him sometimes—fingers moving across the strings, brow furrowed in focus—but you didn’t know then. Not yet.

You thought there’d be time.

He used to say you were his anchor, his world. That no matter how dark it got, if he could find your eyes in a crowd, he could breathe again.

You believed him.

You spent golden hours with him barefoot on the shore, dancing hand-in-hand under a bleeding sunset. It was your place, your after-school escape. You laughed so hard you couldn’t stand, salty wind tangling your hair, his arms catching you mid-fall.

“Sunbeam.” Koji called to you as he cupped your face and brought it closer to his.

‘Sunbeam’ a nickname he gave you. It wasn’t used all the time but when it was it made you feel at home.

Koji said it’s because you were the only light he ever felt when things were heavy. Cute right?

He took a pause, studying your face before speaking again, “when we’re old and bitter,” he grinned once, forehead pressed to yours, “let’s still come here. Even if we hate everything else.”

You smiled. “Deal.”

You didn’t know he meant it like a promise.

Then came things with the band.

And with it, a slow unraveling.

He poured himself into the music — the one thing that kept the fog at bay. And though you cheered him on from the sidelines, something inside you ached. Because your shared childhood friends — his bandmates — never became your bandmates.

It felt like a trio made in a quad.

It was all Rehearsals whispered behind closed doors. Inside jokes you weren’t part of. He stopped letting you in.

And every time you asked, he said the same thing:

“I’m not ready to share this yet. I want you to hear it when it’s perfect. You deserve that.”

But all you heard was: you’re not part of this. get lost.

You didn’t realize then that music was the one place he could scream without opening his mouth. You didn’t see how hard he was trying to give you something beautiful — something untouched by his sadness.

You just felt left behind.

You stopped asking.

But it simmered.

The loneliness. The resentment. The echo of your own humming in a house that didn’t feel like home anymore.

And when it boiled over, it was ugly.

It was after a show. The crowd still echoing in your ears. He came running to you, eyes shining like he’d just come back from the stars.

And all you could say was:

“You shut me out again. Is that what love looks like to you?”

His eyes widened. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I watched you give everything to your band, your music—everyone but me.”

Your voice trembled. “I was always close enough to touch it, but never invited in.”

“I wasn’t excluding you,” he snapped. “I was protecting it—us. I wanted the songs to be perfect before you heard them!”

“But I never wanted perfect! I just wanted to be a part of you!”

“I didn’t want to hand you something broken,” he said, breathless, desperate. “I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

“Since when were you worried about things being broken?..”

You looked at him through tears. “You already gave me something broken, and it was yourself.”

Koji’s voice increased in volume, loud and shaking.

“You don’t understand, i was protecting you. You know i’d do anything for you!”

And your reply came like a blade, words that you didn’t mean..words that you regretted so much.

“Are you willing to die for me, then?!”

The silence afterward said everything. The way his face dropped and his eyes widened in shock. It was a look that haunted your dreams ever since.

He stared. And for the first time in years, he didn’t have anything to say.

You just walked away.

That was the last time you saw him unfortunately.

You thought you’d see him in the morning, giving him some space after what you said might fix the problem.

But—

The next morning, his door was unlocked.

You stepped inside. The lights were off. Koji’s guitar was still warm, resting against the wall like it was waiting for him to come back.

But he wasn’t.

You found him there — breathless, still, soaked in silence and sorrow and the stinging smell of liquor. His fingers had gone cold. His smile, vanished. No note. No goodbye. Just the absence of him — sharp, and permanent.

No matter how hard he tried to love you, he believed he always did it wrong.

His silence, he thought, had driven you away.

His sadness — something he never meant to share — had poisoned the one thing he swore to protect: you.

He believed he ruined the only person who ever truly mattered.

That his presence dimmed your light.

Maybe, just maybe, if he disappeared... you’d finally be able to breathe again.

He died thinking he wasn’t good enough to stand beside you.

That his love — frantic, all-consuming, imperfect — had done more harm than good.

That maybe his name would always taste bitter in your mouth.

He thought you’d forget the soft things:

Your fingers interlocked on the train, the hums you never realized you sang,

The night you danced barefoot on asphalt in the rain,

Laughing, yelling the lyrics to a song he’d never forget.

He thought you’d move on.

That one day, the grief would dull,

And the world would feel lighter without the weight of him in it.

He left behind nothing but his guitar,

Still tuned to the key of you.

You stopped everything. Eating, sleeping, socializing. Grief hit hard. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to cry.

Because sometimes the pain is too big for tears.

Because your body was still catching up to the reality that he was gone,

and grief isn’t always loud or wet or cinematic —

sometimes it’s just stillness.

Heavy. Hollow. Quiet.

Because a part of you didn’t believe it.

Didn’t want to believe it.

Because maybe some tiny voice kept whispering,

“He’ll walk in. He’ll laugh. He’ll say it was a bad dream.”

Because how do you cry for someone who was your first everything—your best friend, your home, your melody—when they vanish like a skipped heartbeat?

Deep down, you thought

you didn’t deserve to cry.

Not after what you said.

Not after he took those words with him.

And maybe you weren’t ready to let go of the anger yet.

The guilt. The aching what-ifs.

Sometimes, not crying is grief’s cruelest trick.

It convinces you that you didn’t love them enough.

But you did.

You did.

________________________________

For days. For weeks. Maybe longer. The world blurred. Nothing sounded right without him in it.

Then one day, long after the funeral, you dusted and cleaned kojis guitar off. His mother had given it to you, knowing that koji would’ve wanted you to have it.

Along with a guitar pick that had a faded heart on it. The heart you drew on there a while ago, but it had faded due to kojis restless playing.

You sat the guitar in your lap. Held it like koji did, then played a single out-of-tuned note.

Suddenly your vision had started to blur. Panic rose to your chest, at first you thought you, yourself was about to die. But you blinked a few times and suddenly it was daylight?

Something felt wrong..

Too bright..

Too different..

You were on the bus. Could tell by the soft movements and the familiar scent.

The same bus you’d taken with koji, head on his shoulder, humming that tune that he held so close to his heart.

Your side felt warm as if someone was sitting a little too close to you.

“Bus 43. You better not fall asleep on me again, user.”

Your heart stopped.

That voice.

Koji?

____________________________________

Note: totallyyy not semi inspired by Given 🎸👀..

So sorry i’ve been gone for so long. Unfortunately a friend of mine passed, and i wasn’t able to find the strength to do anything. I’m back now, with a inspired bot by one of his favorite anime.

Love you K ❤️

(Sorry for the long description) 😭