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I am always the one who clings to him. We sit at a table in the school library, across from each other. We’re both silent. I hold onto his hand, desperately. Wanting him to stay. Needing him to stay. He quietly reads a book to himself, squeezing my hand every few turns of a page. It’s warm. It’s comforting.
Jun Kudou.
On most occasions, we get along rather well. He is my most trusted student after all. Even when I'm complaining and ranting, becoming trapped in one of my everlasting states of despair, he stands beside me. In an oddly patient fashion, to be honest. Not saying much, but still somehow helping me through the ordeal. Of course, the despair is never his fault.
If I ever were to get mad at Jun, to babble and despair because of him, he might end up leaving me behind. To abandon me. Leave me out in the cold. I don’t want that. I want to be loved. Not loved in the way my possessive female students express. Not violently. Not via stalking or a sense of obsessive fixation. I want to be held, caressed, and certainly not forgotten.
And that’s the thing. I struggle to come to terms with our relationship. Jun is like an intimate comrade, usually. We come across to the naked eye as nothing more than a close friendship between a student and his teacher. Onlookers don’t really know what goes on behind the scenes. The kissing, the touching, the hand holding (my personal favourite), and the...intimacy.
I always cling to him in the end, don't I? After all the despair and negativity, I still want him. Not matter where we are or what we’re doing. When Jun initiates such a thing, it's as though he knows exactly what my body wants. Exactly what it needs. Even when my feelings become mixed, and intimacy concludes with myself sobbing into his shoulder. The way he touches me is like no other human being. Whenever he caresses my exposed flesh and says those gentle phrases, the thoughts of despair and desiring to die feel almost nonexistent. Despite this, I don’t want to push that burden onto him.
Why are we so different?
Him, Jun Kudou; positive, creative, soothing, not a care in the world.
I, Nozomu Itoshiki; negative, pessimistic, emotional, carries the weight of the world on their shoulders.
Yet, we both ended up like this. A couple, lucidly sitting together, holding hands. I feel him squeeze mine again, and my chest flutters. With flustered eyes, I look up from staring down at the tabletop. I can’t help but wonder what book he’s reading.
I want to stay here in our own little world. A place where no one will take Jun away from me. Perhaps, in death our relationship can be eternal? In death he can forever be mine, and I can never be forgotten.
I'm not lonely. Certainly not. I have attractive girls hanging off my back all the time. Constantly giving me this unwanted sense of company. A few young women have even attempted to kiss me before, among other private things I don’t want to mention. In this moment, I don't need them. But, as much as I say I don't need them, they are a unique and one-of-a-kind class. No part of me would wish for any other group. Jun is simply an exception among them. I feel loved whenever I am near him. No matter how empty or twisted the world outside is, he is here with me.
My eyes float in the direction of a pen. It lays on its side above the tabletop, next to his elbow. I stare at the stationary tool, admiring the sharpness of its ink-laced tip. Here is the artery, right here in my neck. There is the razored end of the pen. Can you see it? Pick it up, swing it and shove it into my flesh. Do the same to yourself. Watch as we finally leave together in euphoric peace. The eternal rest, free from despair, that you and I have always longed for.
Will Jun still love me in death? Will he miss me? If so, We need to die together. A beautiful double-suicide. I squeeze his hand tightly as that thought shakes my skull. Like usual, I cling closer. I am attaching myself to him again. He and my students can easily watch it. Day by day. I talk to him, remain close to his side, and touch him. Yet, in this moment, his grip slips a little bit. In a motion of panic, my fingers wrap around his, forming a constricted barrier.
“Something wrong, Sensei?” That familiar voice draws my attention back in “You’re squeezing my hand rather tight.”
“I...I’m fine,” I say with a quiet whimper “I just...I felt somewhat detached for a second.”
“Were you about to despair?”
I nod.
“You don’t need to fret, I’m still here with you, Sensei,” Jun glances up from his reading material and shows me a soft smirk “I’m not going to leave you all alone, since I know how much you hate that.”
Changing the topic, I reply. With weary and strained vocals, I make a shy attempt to initiate a conversation between us. Has my voice always been so croaked and hoarse?
“What are you reading?”
“It’s a short romance novel,” The teenager responds with zero delay “The couple sort of reminds me of us.”
He squeezes my hand again, and I squeeze back.
“What happens at the end?” I ask.
That’s right. What does happen at the end? Will we still be together? Will he have to let go? Will he forget me? I love him with all my heart. Please, don’t leave me behind. I never fall into despair because of him. And I never will. As long as he’s with me, I have at least one reason to smile. To feel beloved and held. Just like this very moment together. Can our love really be eternal while we’re still alive?
“One confesses, they hug, and then they both live happily ever after,” Jun says softly.
“And then what?”
With a hum, he places his book face-down on the tabletop. Jun leans across, raises a free hand and grabs my arm. My heart skips a beat, as his nails dig into the fabric of my kimono. My chest starts to flutter rhythmically like an uneasy butterfly. Jun doesn’t react. He moves his head closer to mine. I sit frozen, unmoving. He leans in, so our foreheads rest against each other. Behind my fogged glasses, I squint my eyes. My breath is shaking uncontrollably. I’m powerless to resist his grip. The grip I love so dearly.
“They kiss," He replies in barely a whisper. “They both kiss.”
Jun tilts inward, and his lips brush mine. Within a second, the world around me falls away. It’s a slow and soft kiss. Comforting in strange ways that words cannot convey. His hand moves away from my arm and rests on my cheek. His thumb caresses my flesh, as our breaths mingle. A tiny moan of desire slips past my covered lips. I raise a hand and run my fingers down the back of his neck. Pulling him closer until there’s not a centimetre of space left between our faces and chests. I swear, I can feel the distinct beating of his heart. He’s alive. We’re alive. I reminder that I, too, am alive.
As I break the kiss, I stare into Jun’s eyes. My body can’t help but feel a little strange. These chills running up my spine, and a hotness upon my cheeks. I want him by my side. I need him by my side. To cling to. To love. Because, I’ve never felt this way toward another human being before. Never this attached, cared for, and (dare I say) alive.
I might die when he let’s go of my hand. But, he don’t think he knows that yet.