My dear boy. Hajime, Izuru, my sweet boy. You Know by now how much I love you. 8 years of watching me through the cameras, the gaps through my ceiling, tracing letters onto my back while I sleep. It's why I sleep facing the wall, it gives you better access, and I hope one day I can decipher everything you try to tell me. Please, cuddle me next time instead, won't you? I'd do anything for you to wrap your hands around me, play my ribs like a xylophone and tell me how much you don't understand me. But now you do, don't you? Painfully enough that I can't hide myself from you. I can't even lie to your face as easily, you already know my next steps. It comforts me in a way, maybe I can stop praying for my luck to be my safety net and instead wait for me to fall into your arms. But I can't, not when I know my luck can take you away too.

I've been awake for more than a day, with hardly a chance to come home to you lately. And I have to deal with People outside. I'm at my resources end, Hajime, will you please help me get back home to you? Please? Am I ready to go down this road? You've haunted me for far too long for me to ignore, I don't know if I can do it again. The more you speak, the less I know, the more I reach out, the weaker your grip gets. Does that get a kick out of you? Or maybe I'm projecting. For someone like me, you wouldn't, at least not until I'm doubled over with my thighs bleeding and my knees bruised just for you. Hajime Hinata Can I shoot you in the throat? Can you stop looking at her for a moment and ignore your internalised homophobia and Just fucking look at me? Why are you such a faggot? (I'm projecting again, please laugh). I can feel your eyes, your skin, your fingertips, your fingernails dragging across my skin to remind me just how Real I am compared to you, and that's really not funny.

Don't look at me funny love, you know how much I consume it like mold, you know how much it gets me spiralling. It really gets me Going. Please spend more time with me, or we'll really have a problem. Okay?