I flinched at the question, the memories of past conflicts and misunderstandings flooding back with painful clarity.

“Everyone,” I shrugged.

Souta's frustration mounted as I spoke, his disbelief evident in the furrow of his brow.

“Really? Everyone?” he challenged, his voice steady despite the rising tension. “So, everyone you've ever been selfish to has been hurt as a result?” 

I met his gaze head-on, the weight of his scrutiny almost suffocating in its intensity.

“Yes,” I affirmed, the admission tasting bitter on my tongue. “You can’t even deny this one. You tasted my cruelty and selfishness before. You know how, by just being myself and speaking my mind, I could cause you harm. I have no filter, and my contradictory self just infects others so fast.”

“Yes, you're right,” he conceded, “I've seen your cruel, selfish side, and yes, I've felt how your unfiltered words and self-contradicting thoughts can wound me deep down. But you are more than your cruelties and contradictions. You know you are someone I can trust, and you know just how deeply I've come to care for you.”

His words struck a chord within me, stirring something deep within the recesses of my soul. But before I could gather my thoughts to respond, I felt Souta's presence beside me, his touch anchoring me in the here and now.

I noticed the determination in his eyes as he urged me to look at him, to truly confront myself.

“Answer me,” he demanded, his voice gentle but insistent. “If you were to be completely honest, truly put away this mask that you've created, would you still say being yourself is a burden?”

I hesitated, the weight of his question bearing down on me. But as I met his gaze, I knew there was no escaping the truth that lay buried deep within my heart.

“Yes,” I admitted, and the weight of my words now what is bearing down on me. “It always has been, and perhaps it always will be.”

“I'm different,” I continued, as a sense of weariness creeping into my voice. “I've always known it, deep down. I've been built different, wired to see the world through a unique lens. 

I have my strengths. I've tried to make them work for me. But the truth is, how different I am is like a piece of a different puzzle.

I know it’s not my fault entirely to be this different, but in order to live, it’s hard to fit in this world.”

But,

Being different is feared, being different is not safe.

If I try to force myself to fit by my own shape, I risk causing chaos and disorder for the pieces around me. I might suffocate, or worse, break myself completely.” 

It's a terrible predicament, no matter how you look at it. And if I don't fit, I'm nothing more than a solitary piece, useless and devoid of meaning.”

I finished with heavy breaths, then the silence fell. 

“But your uniqueness is also your strength,” Souta insisted after a moment of gathering thoughts to fight my loathed mind, his voice soft yet determined. “Nobody sees the world the way you do, and nobody experiences the world the way you do. And while it may not have brought you warmth and acceptance, it has brought you perspective. Your ability to view the world from a wide lens has given you depth and wisdom, things that make you so much more.” 

I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze, the weight of his words bearing down, again.

“Just look at me,” he continued, his voice filled with conviction. “You've impacted my life, you know you have.”

I remained silent, unable to deny or agree with his words as I lowered my gaze to his hand. But Souta was undeterred, his resolve unwavering as he continued to speak. “You've shown me so many aspects of life I've yet to consider,” he said sternly. “And so many experiences that I don't even dare to dream about. You say that your perspective and unique way of viewing things make you unable to fit in, but that perspective is why I care about you in the way I do. The world may not accept you, but I don't see you as some sort of freak or a problem.”

His words struck a chord, causing a lump to form in my throat.

“The moment I first met you,” Souta continued, his voice filled with emotion, “I was drawn to your intelligence and wisdom. And I've grown to care about your emotional vulnerability and sensitivity. I enjoy listening to your thoughts and the insight you provide into your own world. Even your so-called apparent selfishness and arrogance, which you believe to be flaws, is also a part of you that I appreciate in its own way because it has given you strength and insight and unique capabilities no one else has.”

My shoulders sagged, and my hands loosened and trembled between his as the full weight of his acceptance washed over me.

“It's true,” he kept talking, his voice trembling with emotion. “I've grown to love you for all the ways you're different. Because just like that piece of the puzzle, I know that I wouldn't have found you if you didn't stand out like you do.”

As I heard his voice tremble, a surge of fear gripped me, propelling me to lift my head swiftly to meet his gaze. The sight of tears welling in the corners of his eyes struck me to my core.

 “Hey—” 

I began, my voice cracking with emotion, a mixture of affection and fear to his words swirling within me, that there is someone —someone dear—appreciated meeting a loner piece.

“Don't cry—”

I couldn't bear to witness him in this state. It was a stark contrast to the satisfaction I felt when his tears were unrelated to me. Now, knowing I was the cause, my voice trembled as tears threatened to spill from my own eyes.

“Why wouldn't I?” he whispered brokenly, his voice laced with sorrow. “Why shouldn't I cry for a piece, who in so many ways, mirrors my own soul?”

“Stop, you'll make me cry too,” I pleaded. “Stop, please don't say anything.” 

But Souta refused to be silenced, his grip tightening on my wrist as he spoke through his tears. “You know that's not fair, right?” he implored, his voice raw with his intense emotion. “You know how many times you've made me cry, and yet, you can't handle even the slightest of pain yourself? Please...please don't push everything down when it hurts inside.”

“I know, but please give me a pass for today,” I begged, my voice barely above a whisper. “If you're going to allow me to be selfish for today, then please... just today...”

As Souta's tears continued to fall, my heart ached with a pain I couldn't bear to ignore. The sight of him crumbling before me, his vulnerability laid bare, shattered the walls I had built around my own emotions.

“Alright,” he relented and sighed while releasing my wrist, “I won't push anymore today.” 

In a swift motion, I reached out and grabbed his wrist, refusing to let him pull away from me. I couldn't bear the thought of him shutting me out, of retreating into himself where I couldn't reach him.

But Souta's gaze remained fixed on me, his eyes filled with a sadness that mirrored my own.

“Please,” he pleaded, his voice cracking with pain. “You can't keep running away from yourself.”

My heart clenched at his words, the fear of facing my own pain threatening to overwhelm me. But I couldn't let him go, not now, not ever.

“Well, I can,” I protested, “But not you. Please, please don’t run from me.”

“How could I?” Souta whispered, his tears mingling with mine. “How could I ever run from the one who knows me more than I know myself? The one who always knows exactly how to comfort me?”

His words pierced through the darkness, filling me with a warmth I had long thought was beyond my reach.

“I don't plan on running from you anytime soon,” his voice filled with determination as he leaned close to me.

“Never,” I vowed, my grip on his wrist tightening as I held onto him with all the strength I had left.

“Promise me something, Ano?”

“What...? Though I won’t...”

“I want you to promise me that you'll stop blaming yourself for being something other people don't understand,” he placed his hands gently on my shoulders. “That even at your lowest points, you'll remember how much I care for you and how much you matter to me.”

“I...” I began, but a chuckle unexpectedly burst from my lips, a release of tension amidst the overwhelming emotions. “You asked the hardest of everything,” I managed to say between laughter, the absurdity of the situation dawning on me.

Despite the seriousness of his intentions, the sound of my laughter seemed to bring Souta a sense of relief as well. After a moment, he too broke into chuckles and then laughter, the tension of the moment subsiding as we were both swept away by the sheer absurdity of it all.

As our laughter subsided and our breathing returned to normal, we remained still, wrapped up in the warmth of our embrace. I could feel a light smile lingering on my lips.

“You're right,” he began, his tone no longer forceful but gentle. “It was a hard thing to ask, but that's why I had to. I just want you to take a moment, to remember that you never have to walk down this road alone.”

I looked at him with a slight smile, but as our gazes locked, I felt a surge of awkwardness wash over me. I quickly looked away, a nervous laugh escaping my lips.

Souta noticed my discomfort and his gaze softened, his eyes searching mine for understanding.

“You know...” he paused, his gaze searching mine. “I don't know why you can't look me in the eyes when you speak to me.”

I felt the weight of his gaze bearing down on me.

“I don’t know..” I started, my words faltering as I struggled to articulate my thoughts. “It's awkward. I've never been one to hold eye contact while talking. It's just distracting."

“But with you,” I hesitated, the words trailing off as uncertainty clouded my thoughts. “It's different. I just feel more... I don’t know.”

My explanation fell short of the truth. With Souta, it was different. And try as I might, I couldn't quite put into words the way his eyes made me feel.

Despite my attempt to evade the question, I sensed a playful glint in Souta's eyes, as if he already understood my feelings and was playfully coaxing me to confess.

Souta's playful smile danced on his lips as he spoke softly, “You feel more what?” His tone carried a teasing lilt, a gentle nudge urging me to shed my evasion. It was clear I couldn't keep evading him forever. Perhaps it was time to confess, right here, before his teasing continued unabated.

“Um..”

I averted my gaze, reluctant to meet his eyes.

The corners of his lips quirked upward, a silent invitation for me to spill the truth. “Come on... just tell me...”

“Um... Usually, I avoid prolonged eye contact,” I confessed, a trace of unease threading through my voice. “People's eyes often reveal emotions I'd rather not see, or they appear to contradict their words, which makes it difficult for me to concentrate.”

“But with you...” As my hesitation lingered, the corners of his lips curled upwards even more. He seemed genuinely intrigued now, noting my avoidance of his eyes. His voice softened with a tinge of curiosity. 

“But with me... what?”

I found myself, as always, unable to contain the flood of thoughts, spurred on by his genuine interest.

“Your eyes–” My words trailed off, soft and hesitant, as if reluctant to leave my lips. 

“–are so pure. 

They're... so genuine, so sincere when they look at me. They always reflect exactly what you say...”

“It’s just...” I stumbled, finally voicing the truth of my feelings. “It scares me.”

Souta's expression shifts to one of surprise, eyebrows lifting as he registers my admission.

“So, you can't look me in the eyes because you find mine too genuine? Is that what you're saying? The honesty in my eyes...” He trails off, incredulous at the revelation. “...scares you?”

I nodded. 

Despite his initial surprise, Souta's heartbeat quickens, and his breath catches in his throat. He stares at me for a long moment, the air thickening between us. Our eyes locked, and there's no escaping the intensity of the moment. His voice drops to a whisper as he speaks softly, “Does it still scare you now?” There's a mix of hope and fear in his gaze, willing me not to look away.

I push his face lightly, covering his eyes. “Don’t look at me now…”

His eyelids fluttered rapidly beneath my touch, a grin spreading across his face at my unexpected gesture. He lets out a playful chuckle. “Why? Am I too scary for you to look at, even now?” Souta teases, gently slipping his hands under mine to pull them away.

I don't fight him pulling away. “Yeah. They’re honest. It’s scary.” 

He chuckled again and tilted his head slightly. “My eyes being honest scares you? Why?” he paused, “What part of my honesty is so frightening?”

“You know,” I began again, “I'm not accustomed to encountering eyes brimming with such purity and genuine emotion.”

Experiencing your unwavering honesty is... daunting. I struggle to comprehend that these eyes, filled with such raw emotion, are solely focused on me...”

The weight of those words feels both exhilarating and terrifying all at once. 

“Do you feel overwhelmed by it?” he asked quietly.

“I just find my mind running with questions why?

Why do you not hide?

Why do you feel that to me?

Why is it me?

Why?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle softly, yet this chuckle carried the weight of his answer. His voice grew tender as he spoke softly and quietly. “That's because...” He paused as his words trailed off, searching for the right ones. “Because you're the one who sees me. You're the one who makes me feel so seen that I have no other choice but to pour everything I am into you...”

I couldn't help but glance into his eyes despite my own fears, trying to gauge how much they reflected of what he said.

He continued to look at me straight in the eyes as he slowly let his feelings and emotions speak for themselves. His lips formed into a soft smile as he waited for me to make sense of what he said. 

Finally, after a few moments, he said softly and quietly, “So do you understand the answer to all of your questions...?”

“Yeah, but... still,” I murmured, “It's just... strange. I'm not accustomed to it... It's not that I doubt your feelings or your words; I even trust them more than myself. But... I struggle to envision someone, I, who struggles with this and always makes it hard for others to be this honest and pure, being with me in that way...”

At my words, his smile slowly broke into a sweet and gentle laugh. “You think you're hard to be with?” He shook his head slightly and chuckled softly. “I'm sorry, Ano, but you're being ridiculous. You have no idea how easy you make things for me...” he looked away briefly before continuing. “I mean... You never judge me and try to see things from my perspective. The honesty and truth that you bring into my life make it easier for me to let myself be vulnerable and show my real self. You're not hard to be with at all.”

I cast him a sidelong glance, my lip curling slightly for a while, then I sighed and bit down on it.

His voice grew softer as his words became almost a whisper. “What are you thinking about, Ano?”

“Whys.”

End of Feeling Disgusted Part 1