Work Text:
Yuju has arrived at the rooftop of his apartment.
His shoes placed neatly near the railings.
The rooftop tiles were a bit cold against his socks, grounding in a way nothing else had been since he found out about Ruka—his long childhood crush—has been stolen by his classmate.
He stepped closer to the edge.
That was when he saw someone.
Sota.
One of his neighbor downstairs who he always saw going out with his boyfriend.
Standing there, hands on the railing, staring down at the city like it owed him an explanation.
Despite himself, Yuju screamed.
“Hey, don’t do it, please!”
The words felt wrong the moment they left his mouth.
Why did he say that?
Sota turned slowly, eyes red, shoulders slumped. He looked... surprisingly normal to be in a situation like this.
“You've probably heard it all before... My boyfriend broke up with me,” Sota said quietly. “He said he didn’t feel the same about me anymore...”
That was it.
Yuju felt something snap.
“For God’s sake,” he barked. “Are you serious?”
Sota flinched.
“You know how stupid that sounds?” Yuju continued, stepping closer. “He didn’t cheat! He didn’t replace you! He just... left.”
His hands shook.
“Look, you’ve never had anything stolen from you,” Yuju said, voice sharp with venom. “You’ve never had someone you wanted taken right out from you.”
Sota’s lips parted.
“My crush was stolen,” Yuju cut in. “By someone I trusted.”
His crush's name burned on his tongue.
“So don’t stand here like you’ve been robbed,” Yuju spat. “You don’t know what that feels like...”
Sota stared at the ground, shoulders trembling.
Yuju laughed bitterly, he was a bit pissed that someone was there before him.
“Yet... somehow,” he muttered, “you still got here before me.”
Sota wiped his eyes, forcing a smile.
“I'm feeling better... thank you for listening,” he said softly.
The boy with long hair then disappeared.
---
The next day.
The same rooftop. Same edge.
Yuju took off his shoes. He had barely stepped forward when he saw another boy already there.
Reo.
Another neighbor that he always saw in the elevator with his school uniform in the late afternoons.
Short, quiet, standing on the ledge carefully. Reo’s fingers clutched the railing as if he was afraid it might disappear without warning.
Despite himself, Yuju screamed.
“Don’t do it, please!”
Reo turned to Yuju. He spoke softly.
“Sometimes they shove me in the hallways,” Reo said quietly. “Like it’s an accident. Everyone laughs, even when I didn’t say anything.”
He tightened his grip on the railing.
“They take my things a lot, write mean stuff on my desk, or call my name like it’s a joke.” His voice wavered, but he kept going. “It didn’t hurt at first. I was... confused... I thought maybe I did something wrong.”
Reo swallowed.
“I tried ignoring it,” Reo said, eyes fixed on the city below. “If I didn’t react, maybe they’d get bored.”
He let out a small, breathless laugh.
“They never do... They put flowers on my desk wishing me to die...”
Yuju listened, arms folded, irritation simmering.
“And? Did your parents have something to say about it?” Yuju asked suddenly.
Reo hesitated, then shook his head.
“I never told them,” he said. “They'll worry about me. My mom keeps asking if I’m eating properly.”
Something ugly twisted in Yuju’s chest.
“Must be nice,” he muttered.
Reo smiled faintly, like the memory hurt and comforted him at the same time.
“I miss my mom’s cooking,” Reo said.
That did it.
Yuju snapped.
“You don’t get to stand here,” he hissed. “Do you know that?”
Reo startled.
“You’ve got people who care,” Yuju continued, voice sharp, venomous. “A home that actually wants you. You think being bullied makes you special?”
Reo’s lips parted, but no words came out.
“My parents fight every night,” Yuju spat. “They don’t even try to hide how much they don’t want me around. And I’m still standing.”
Reo’s eyes filled with tears.
“I just wanted it to stop,” he whispered.
Yuju laughed bitterly.
“Go home then,” he said. “Go eat dinner with your family.”
Reo flinched, guilt flooding his face instantly.
“Yeah,” he said quickly. “I'm really hungry...”
The boy short as can be then disappeared.
---
It became routine for Yuju for every single day.
Shoes off. Wind blew in his hair. And someone else was already there.
Yuju listened. Yuju judged. Yuju screamed.
They left.
And yet.
No one ever asked Yuju why he was there. No one ever said “Don’t do it!” to Yuju.
His crush stayed lodged in his chest like knife. His parents arguing every day and night. He thought maybe this was his purpose.
To stop others.
---
For the first time, he saw a boy in a yellow cardigan.
It was Hikaru.
The tall boy who lived alone just a few rooms near Yuju's.
His visuals are soft and stunning. His cardigan almost too bright for the grey rooftop.
Hikaru stood at the edge, fingers clenched, voice barely steady.
“I just want the scars to stop growing,” he said. “Every time I go home.”
Yuju froze.
It was the same words. Same exhaustion. Same quiet terror of existing one more day. Just like him.
For once, Yuju didn’t know what to say.
He panicked.
And quietly screamed without thinking.
“Hey! Don’t do it, please...”
This time, it wasn’t bitter.
It was desperate.
Hikaru looked at him—really looked. Then turned away.
There was a short moment of silence between the two.
Not long, Hikaru went back inside the railings and put on his shoes back on.
“I guess today’s just not my day... Sorry.”
He left.
Yuju stood there in silence.
For once, someone shared the same pain as him.
Yet, he couldn't save him...
---
Once in a moonlight, the rooftop was empty.
No people. No interruptions.
Just Yuju.
He laughed softly.
Of course.
Everyone he stopped had died anyway.
Saving them never meant actually saving them.
He shrugged off his yellow cardigan.
He tugged it tighter around himself, fingers trembling.
His bracelets that he made with his childhood crush come undone.
“No one to get in my way,” Yuju whispered.
He stepped onto the ledge.
Yuju closed his eyes.
And jumped.
FIN