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He thought that he was doing well.
Mika had, for better or worse, always been fairly adaptable. It came with a life that was spent mostly under the control of others; if he didn't control the things that happened to him, he could only power through them. It had made picking himself back up during rough moments much easier than it would have otherwise.
The last few months, however, had been trying his seemingly-limitless patience.
Learning to walk again was... difficult. Someone who was usually so poised and elegant in their movements had now been reduced to falling all over himself like a newborn fawn, wobbly at the knees and ending up on the floor more often than not. But he picked himself back up, and he steadied himself with the cane Naru-chan had brought for him, and he continued on. And when the pain was too much for him to bear, Mika admitted defeat and resigned himself to his wheelchair, all the while mentally cursing at the accident that'd forced him into this state.
The state of disrepair that he was now forced to live in.
With half a limb missing. With hands that didn't grip right, or at all. With aches deep in muslces that he had no idea could ache. With itches he physically couldn't scratch and pains he couldn't physically relieve.
Mika hated how often his brain turned the thought of maybe they shouldn't have saved me like a pebble in between his thumb and forefinger. He hated how that thought was becoming increasingly frequent, especially on the days that he spent not moving from the dent he'd made in their brand new couch's cushions. He hated how disgusting he felt. He hated the thoughts that swarmed around in his brain that Shu-kun was only sticking around now because of all of the time he'd sunk into an idol unit that would now, probably never be able to perform again. How every touch that he was allowed was one that was clinical in nature -- help with dressing, help with bathing, help with eating. He was a caretaker more than a partner at this point, down to the part that involved Nazuna-nii sleeping in bed beside him more than his own boyfriend since they'd returned home from the hospital.
... The 'news', if one could call it that, didn't exactly come as a shock to Mika. Past Valkyrie was only two people, after all; one with a strong attraction to the other, and the other who had to have felt enough of an attraction to do something about it. The thought of Shu and Nazuna being physical --- having sex --- made Mika's stomach swell with an indescribable, uncomfortable jealousy. A lead weight settled neatly in his gut with the words he isn't repulsed by sex, he's just repulsed by you engraved into its metal. One that, at any other point in time, he'd have been able to push away with the knowledge that it had happened in the past and been done with it.
But it was eating at him. Shu had always thought that Nazuna was beautiful. And it wasn't like he was wrong. But he'd thought that the older boy was beautiful enough to touch, to explore in a way that he'd seemingly never thought about exploring with Mika.
And now, he never would.
Not with how broken Mika was. Not with how disgusting and useless he was.
With his half a limb missing, and his hands that didn't grip right (or at all,) with his stupid messy hair and his stupid mismatched eyes and his
Mika shook his head a little bit, a sigh escaping him as he tried desperately to fight the thoughts away. He'd been stuck in this pattern of thought for the better part of... however long it'd been now. His verbal responses were limited. His text responses were even more limited. He wanted, more than anything, to be alone like he deserved to be. That's why he'd been abandoned to begin with, wasn't it? So he was forced to be alone? He should have stayed alone, shouldn't he-
It wasn't easy to hoist himself from the couch into his wheelchair, but it was getting easier every day. That was something he was thankful for. It wasn't all that hard for him to push it anymore, either -- he didn't need to grip his hands around the wheels, and so he could push himself along with just his palms. The kitchen was only a few pushes away from the living room. Maybe a warm drink would help to cheer him up just a little bit. At the very least, he'd have something in him. Given his refusal to intake any food these days, even something as simple as a cup of tea was better than nothing.
Mika rolled himself up to the counter, extending an arm out toward one of the lower cabinets. He was able to hook one of his fingers through the handle, pulling it open a little bit more forcefully than he would have otherwise. One of his more favored mugs was toward the front. He pawed at it, trying his absolute hardest to close his useless, stupid fucking hand around its body in order to bring it down to the counter. Once he'd willed enough strength into his muscles to grip onto it, Mika lifted the mug. He brought it forward. And he tried to be so, so careful.
But his physical limitations didn't give a shit whether or not he was having a bad day.
They didn't give a shit that he couldn't handle one more thing.
So his stupid, useless fucking hand let the mug slip right out from his palm, and Mika watched in horror as it hit the ground and exploded into a million tiny shards.
Mika blinked.
And Mika blinked again.
And Mika let out a scream.
A raw one, straight from his chest. One that he continued until his lungs hurt, until his face was red, until tears dripped down onto his lap from those same stupid mismatched eyes. The sob that left him once he'd stopped screaming was strangled, a gasp for the air he'd all but drained completely from his lungs. With what little strength he had, he threw himself out of his wheelchair, kicking it away and into the wall.
And he backed himself up against the cabinets.
And he sobbed.
It had been multiple days since Mika seemed to speak to him more than just small talk. It was nothing more than the bell ringing to tell Shu he was awake and ready to be moved. A single word here and there when he would be served food - which he hardly would eat. Shu wondered if it was the withdrawals from the medicine or the depression finally settling in but it seemed harsh for him to ask outright.
If Mika needed extra help he would say something at this point. He did enough - Shu was bathing him, feeding him, clothing him, helping him learn to walk, and putting him to bed every night. He almost felt as though he should be giving the boy space. Constantly having his nose in Mika's business was probably making him uncomfortable.
He promised to allow Mika his life as a human. Having to do such excessive maintenance on him was pulling back on any progress he was making, surely. Mika had gone so far as to make male friends willingly. He was going out with his friends! He was dating someone! He was having game nights, and trying new foods, and even staying in school for structure and volunteering for the talent agency! He was continuing his art, still putting together toys that were in disarray for the children at the local orphanage. Mika was a beautiful, honest, and hardworking human - who now was unable to do anything on his own.
The mental and emotional whiplash had to be immense.
Seeing his progress brought tears to Shu's eyes when he was in his apartment alone the first weeks he'd been there. The pride he felt for Mika making such decisions on his own had caused such a warmth in his chest that he'd lost all sense and kissed him that day. Not that he regretted the kiss. Shu would never regret finally pursuing him.
But they could have taken things leagues slower. He was kicking himself for kissing Mika so hard that night, for being so embarrassed by his own desires taking over and pinning him against the wall until his body was reacting and he was losing sense. He sent Mika home on his own. It wasn't entirely dark yet, and the city was illuminated quite brightly, but he still sent him home as it became dark knowing damn well that he couldn't see. Even if the truck was meant to hit him, if it was an act of God, Shu felt the guilt follow him every time he helped him up. Every time he lifted Mika into his wheelchair. Every time he helped strap in the prosthetic. Every time he had to be given his medication.
He'd done his best. Staying every day in the hospital, leaving only once to acclimate the home they'd been given specifically to fit his new needs. Shu did not once judge nor resent Mika for being short with him, he somehow never once scolded him the way he should have over Mika's loose tongue or his shortening temper. He'd lost his limb. He'd lost his ability to grip. He'd lost two of the things he'd loved most - dancing, giving life to things that would have otherwise been forgotten. And he knew it meant Mika lost the confidence that he'd so painstakingly clawed into himself.
So he was half-expecting for Mika to do something reckless. He was expecting to find him with more cuts, or to find him emptying his stomach after taking his medication. But it came to a head in the form of something broken in the kitchen. And a scream that shook him.
Shu closed his eyes tightly and endured the sound, not wanting to leap up immediately so that he had that moment. If he hadn't been given his moments of madness, Shu likely wouldn't have made it out from under the blanket he hid in for months. Still, he rose to deal with whatever mess he would have to clean up after his broken doll.
He wasn't expecting to see him on the floor, though. The shattered ceramic seemed plausible. But he'd have to clean that up before the boy got any ideas.
"Calm yourself, Kagehira." Shu took careful steps around him, tiptoeing between chunks of his mug and snatching the broom from its place with more force than he meant to. "It's only a glass. You've got plenty."
He didn't look at Mika, terrified of what he may see. Afraid he may not be able to fix it. Mika held him so high, relied on him for so much - he even learned to speak correctly, to fill the gaps caused by misunderstanding and communicate their wants and needs. Was there something he was missing?
Was the situation they were in going to be too much?
"I will clean up your mess, so stay where you are."
"It ain't about the damn cup!"
He hadn't meant to yell. And with the realization that he had, Mika felt his stomach drop. He never yelled at Shu. He wasn't supposed to yell at Shu. Shu was someone above him. He was nothing compared to Oshi-san. He was nothing without Oshi-san. How dare he even think about raising his stupid, unintelligible slur of a voice at someone he should be so grateful towards? How dare he make such a stupid mistake?
Mika deserved to be thrown away like the broken piece of garbage that he was.
Annoyed with his thoughts and annoyed overall, he kicked his one remaining leg as a toddler throwing a tantrum would. He fussed about amidst the mess that he'd created, and he found himself unbothered by the potential to cut himself on the ceramic shards. He'd done it before on purpose. What difference would cutting himself by accident make, anyway? His sense of pain had been dull to begin with, and now it was so warped by the aftermath of the accident that Mika hardly believed he'd feel a little cut at all. The thought of doing it purposefully was enticing, even. But for now he would settle for his fussing, for his wailing, for his tantrum that was so unwholly like him that he was half-expecting Shu to either leave or scream at him to stop.
He wasn't sure which one he actually wanted.
He wasn't sure if he wanted either of them at all.
"'s 'bout everythin' else!" Between the screaming and the choke-sobbing, Mika's throat was starting to hurt. He didn't have the energy to care. "'Bout how I can' do nothin', 'bout how 'm useless, 'bout how you should jus' leave and go be happy with Nazuna-nii like ya should'a been t'begin with!" The insecurities spat out of him like venom, making his mouth taste like acid and his stomach twist even tighter. The tears that dripped onto his shirt were big and hot and so annoying that he could scream.
"It's 'bout how savin' me was fuckin' useless if I'm gonna be like this forever."
Ah, so that's what it was.
Shu stood stupidly with the broom in his hand, blinking down at Mika beneath him. His features were scrambled, half-annoyed with the unsightly mess and the sound, half-worried that Mika would hurt himself more if he kept flailing about. His eyes darted to the ceramic pieces on the floor, to Mika's face as he shouted, unsure of what to focus on. Too much was happening at once.
He chose to clean up the mess.
Mika lay on the ground, throwing his tantrum, shouting his insecurities as Shu pleasantly swept the pieces away.
He wasn't incorrect. He absolutely was useless, if one was to look at him with the same eyes as they would have months ago. He couldn't walk, he couldn't sew, he couldn't write, he couldn't dance, he couldn't do much of substance in regard to the art they created together. It was absolutely temporary - at least as far as the doctors were saying. Yet weeks probably felt like a lifetime with the lack of medication and the pain that was settling in. But the comment about Nazuna, how it came from seemingly nowhere - ah, who was he kidding.
It didn't make sense to him, how he went from dropping a cup to screaming about Shu's ex lover, but with the way he was screaming... there was so much more going on in his simple little head.
"You're speaking nonsense, Kagehira. I suggest you calm down." He had the majority of the pieces in a dust pan, shaking it out into the trash can. "You've always had a habit of running your mouth and spouting such unpleasant things."
He gripped the broom harder than he meant to, knuckles white.
"I don' wanna calm down!"
Except that he was running out of steam, given how just living seemed to make him so tired these days. Calming down wasn't really a choice he was going to have a say in for much longer. Another wet cough escaped Mika as he pressed a palm into one of his eyes, letting the stars born of pressure flitter behind his eyelid. His flailing now ceased, he sat eerily still in the mess that he'd created. He rubbed at his face clumsily with his other hand in a half-hearted attempt to rid it of its wetness. That in itself was futile -- it wasn't as if he'd stopped crying. He'd just stopped being so loud about it.
"'S not like 'm wrong, ain't it?" He stared emptily at the floor as he spoke. Maybe if he stared long enough at the hole where his leg should have been, he could will it back into existence. This was a place of dreams, wasn't it? Why couldn't he do something as simple as wishing himself into being able bodied again? "'M useless. I can't do nothin' right no more, or I can't do nothin' at all. 'M stupider than I ever been. I can' even get dressed by myself. 'M just a fuckin burden to ya, ain't I? Broken, 'nd useless, 'nd disgusting, full'a scars 'nd missing parts 'nd-"
Mika pressed both of his hands into his eyes now, the sobs starting all over again to muddy his already borderline-unintelligible speech.
"-'nd it makes sense that ya'd wanna touch Nazuna-nii, 'cause he ain't disgustin' like I am, and now ya won't ever see me as a boyfriend 'cause all I'm good for is gettin' taken care of instead'a-"
He dropped the broom.
Shu dropped the broom, falling to his knees with very little care that there may still be bits of porcelain on the tiled flooring. Even if he came out of this with a few scrapes and cuts, everything paled in comparison to the pain Mika was feeling. Shu could spare his partner some empathy; let the persona fall and hold him in his arms. It was awkward, how Mika was sitting with his hands in his face - but something told him it was the only way.
"Stop speaking of such things, you aren't making any sense... please. Take a breath, Mika." He squeezed, probably too hard. Mika's fragile frame was one of the more appealing of his physical features but at the moment it seemed such a burden. He was afraid he may break the boy further, crush him in his arms and destroy everything else they'd built together.
When he touched Nito, his love was so hot that the castle of sand they'd built together turned to glass - but it was so mishappen from the pressure it was under that it cracked and caused the both of them to bleed. It shattered, unsalvageable and thus the two of them had seemingly moved apart. Nito and Shu had come to an agreement after graduation, speaking here and there as friends - it was always Mika who held the bad blood.
Of course things were different when he arrived in this world. He arrived just as Mika was hurt. And they'd fought in the hospital, in the new house, outside of it once or twice. Their personalities were both too aggressive and they'd been through far too much to just allow the other to walk all over them. But Shu wouldn't deny seeing that some lingering feelings remained; far from unreciprocated. They walked the path of beauty together once upon a time, and their fairytale ended up being a disguised tragedy.
But from the ashes rose another beautiful thing.
Shu hadn't noticed for so long. He appreciated Mika for who he was, for his time at his side when he needed someone most. He appreciated him for his soft heart, his warm smile; he loved him for his uniquity and his undying loyalty. He could be annoyed here and there at his constant mirroring, but it wasn’t as though he hated it. He loved him. He loved him. So differently than he loved Nito; it wasn't hot enough to burn.
But the warmth that was there was comforting. It was safe. It was nurturing. It invited growth. And rebirth. And understanding. And patience. Though he never looked at Shu as though he were anything less than perfection, Shu still felt the need to do his best over and over again for him. And though Shu no longer requested purity or supremacy from Mika - he still longed to do better and better.
Whereas his first love was about control and molding him into the perfect man, Mika was the perfect man intent on keeping the old Shu while helping him grow into something new. Taking the vengeful artist, still in love with his hatred just as much as his passion, and showing him that there was beauty in the things that caused pain.
And he was right.
"Mika I don't want that. I'm here with you. I wouldn't be if I believed you to be a complete failure, would I?" He wouldn't let his partner hear the tears, the way his nose burned and his eyes were shut so tightly. "Have you forgotten who I am, idiot?"
With all of his words having left him, the only thing left that Mika could do was cry. The emotions tamped down for three grueling months left him in sputters and coughs, in a desperate inch closer in the embrace that he had been forced into. This was what he had wanted after all, wasn't it? A touch that wasn't 'helpful', but rather one that was loving. The touch of a boyfriend that cared about him, not the touch of a stay at home nurse who was tolerating him because he didn't have a choice other than to pick up the pieces of a mess he didn't create. Every breath that Mika took in was shaky, labored, and punctuated with a tiny noise that he was certain Shu would've gotten annoyed at had it been for any other reason.
With arms so tired and hands that didn't grip right, Mika let his arms fall to return the embrace, clinging onto the man he'd loved for so many years with all of the strength left in his tattered, broken body. He clung to the safety of Shu's warmth. He let himself make a hole there, let himself stay there as he shook and whimpered and made a fool of himself.
Maybe Shu would have left if he didn't see any value left in Mika. Mika wished he could show him where that value was. He'd been searching for months. There was nowhere left to look. With all of his abilities stripped, with his appearance so mangled and different... what was left to see in him? He was too useless to be of worth. He was too disgusting to be touched. All of the dreams that he'd had -- from small ones, involving Shu and some situations that were far from appropriate to think about in this moment, to large ones, involving the future of Valkyrie -- felt as though they'd all died in the dirt.
It was true that he was speaking nonsense. That all of the concerns that he'd been spitting both at the air and at the floor were jumbled nothings born of his too-tired brain, run through by lack of sleep and abundance of pain. None of what he was yelling about made any sort of logical
sense. Their relationship would progress when both of them were ready, and they weren't ready for that yet. It wasn't because Mika was ugly or unlovable. It just wasn't the right time. Regardless, reminding himself of these facts even on a loop wasn't enough to stop the insecurities from creeping into the forefront of his mind. It wasn't enough to stop him from being overwhelmed with jealousy at the thought of Shu being ready for Nazuna but not for him. It wasn't enough to stop him from feeling... hurt, in a weird, confusing way.
He squeezed one hand into the back of Shu's shirt as hard as he could.
Which was not hard at all.
"'M sorry." His voice was hoarse and broken, and he coughed yet again as he finished speaking. "'M just... tired. 'M so tired, Oshi-san."
Mika had tried so, so hard to break his habit of using the nickname that he knew Shu was not the fondest of. He'd worked so hard to remind himself to use Shu-kun, to address him by name, even if he himself was still 'Kagehira' in any moment that wasn't his significant other trying to console him. But Mika'd said it himself. He was tired. He was so, so tired.
"If you are tired, then you should rest. It's common sense, Kagehira. And I truly hoped you would have found some by now, but you are likely never going to absorb it, are you?" He meant absolutely nothing of that. Of course Shu meant that he should sleep, that resting his body would take away a lot of his discomfort.
Sleeping would help his muscles heal. It would help his mind process some of the information he'd been given. Mika hadn't slept for a few days, he was sure of it - and it was time for him to file everything away. The body required self-maintenance more than it required any sort of outside help, after all.
He was doing so well for having his body altered in such a way. And Shu was afraid of praising him too much because he feared Mika would find comfort in mediocrity, but that was a stupid conclusion to come to. Mika's stubbornness meant that he likely hoped to dance again. He was likely going over routines in his head, mentally mapping out how to stand on his one leg and swing the prosthetic around as though he could still move just the same as he did only months before.
"...you don't have to answer every question I ask, fool." Shu didn't let the rhetorical question hang for too long, knowing full well that Mika would likely try to interject at least with a nyeh or one of his other stupid, adorable sounds. "Come. I suppose it is up to me to teach you, just as it always is."
Shu, not paying attention to the scrapes on his knees, stood. And he scooped his partner up into his arms, struggling just a little, until he was holding him in such a way that one may carry their bride to bed. "Your mind is running because you've not been sleeping. What have I told you about getting proper rest and how it can affect your work? If you're going to be my marionette ever again, you need to be in much better shape. And that will begin when you have recovered your strength."
As if to show he knew what he was talking about, and prove that he'd kept up with his own exercise as much as Mika had with his physical therapy - he began carrying him to bed. Not once letting the anxiety of possibly dropping him show on his face.
Had he been of sounder mind, Mika would have considered protesting being picked up. He may have made one of his noises and fussed a little. He may have whined that he could definitely get himself back up into his wheelchair after he'd finished his fit, and that he would have been fine once he'd calmed down. But Mika wasn't of sounder mind, and so, he didn't so much as make a sound while Shu situated him in his arms. This was what he'd wanted, after all; to be touched, even if it wasn't an explicit touch like his mind so often wanted to gun for.
In the warmth of Shu's arms, Mika allowed himself the selfish action of letting his head rest against his beloved's shoulder.
(He found himself wondering when Shu had gained the strength to pick him up with, seemingly, such ease. Mika knew that he was light, and likely even lighter than the last time Shu had decided to fully pick him up and carry him. But he'd been exercising more, huh? ... It was attractive. Mika fought away the butterflies stirring in his stomach, knowing they were far too inappropriate for a time like this.)
He was only half listening as he was semi-scolded, knowing in his heart that the words weren't coming from a place of anger, but rather one of concern. Shu was right, after all. He was always right. Mika hadn't been sleeping. He'd hardly been eating anything. The depression from the full awareness that he was nothing more than a burden was practically suffocating him, and, having set up shop in his mind, it had every intention of running it's host into the ground until there was nothing left of him. He wasn't stupid enough to not figure that out. It was just difficult to fight his way out when all of his problems had zero ends, in sight or otherwise.
Mika yawned as the two of them made their way into his bedroom. It was almost as if his eyelids had physically become heavier the second he'd laid eyes on his bed. Nonetheless, he used what strength was left in his stupid, useless hands to grip onto Shu wherever possible. Maybe he was going to fall asleep. But he would allow himself one more selfish action. He'd already been pathetic enough -- what harm could begging do?
"Shu-kun," Mika's voice was still scratchy, still tired, still broken. His throat felt like all of his other muscles. "Can ya... stay? ... Wanna ask ya somethin'."
He'd just given such a speech about wellness, about the importance of sleep, but he was certain that Mika could see the way his own eyes were reddened from a lack of rest. He was worried. He had every right to be.
As Shu lied his partner down, as softly as he could, he pretended to mull over the question. As though that didn't sound tempting. He was so tired, and Mika was so warm, and the two of them really did need to do something about how stiff and clinical it felt.
Even if Shu perceived every touch as loving, the more he thought about it, the more he realized how Mika may not. He didn't like when Shu rubbed dirt off his face without warning even before this mess. So why would anything be different from that?
He pulled the blanket back, then climbed in next to his partner, unsure of how close to press their bodies. He elected to stay on the opposite side of the bed, an unbearable space between them. "I suppose I'll stay long enough for you to ask me whatever it is you want to." He didn't look at Mika as he settled into his side, facing him, still thinking about the mess in the kitchen and the abandoned wheelchair. There was no way he could sleep there soundly, but...
"What is it, Mika?"
Never before had a bed felt so inviting. As soon as he was laid on its surface, Mika could feel himself fighting to keep his eyes open. His body felt heavy and achey with fatigue, like he hadn't done so much as lay down in the past three weeks. Despite this, however, Mika rolled over onto his side to face Shu. Nearly every muscle in his body ached in protest. He chose to ignore every single one of them. One yellow and one blue met a pair of purple for just a second before he averted his gaze, suddenly feeling awkward about the question he was about to ask.
But he had to know.
Mika had to know or it'd continue to eat at him. It'd continue to fuel his sleepless nights, continue to bounce around in his brain like a ball down a hallway already stuffed too full with things. He chewed on his lip a little as he thought of how to phrase what he wanted to know. It was... difficult, because there were many things that he wanted to know.
Did you sleep with Nazuna-nii? (Mika felt as though he knew the answer to this one already, but it was almost like he craved a verbal confirmation.)
Will you not sleep with me because you aren't ready? (Most likely.)
Or is because I'm not good enough? Or too ugly, or too disgusting, or too eager, or too-
Mika was certain that Shu would take note of the grimace that his face had surely twisted into with that thought. So, in an effort to pretend it hadn't happened, he did his best to smooth his features out into a neutral expression before he spoke.
"... Do ya still like Nazuna-nii back?"
Should I be scared that I've become too much of a pain in the ass to put up with, and you'll go back to your first love?
That brought his eyes back. Shu looked deeply into his partner's, knowing exactly what was going through his mind as he darted his gaze and shifted uncomfortably. There was no way he could tell the truth, not when he was so fragile and susceptible to the shattering any sort of confirmation would bring.
But he didn't deserve a lie, either.
He'd promised Mika long ago that he'd try to communicate with him better. He was even proving himself lately - they hadn't had a blowout until just today, and Shu had even bitten his tongue from saying unsavory things before he ever said them. He was doing well. But nothing he could say would likely make Mika feel any better.
"Mika..." The features of his face had to tell Mika all he needed to know, but the truth was much more complicated than he could express. "I do. But not in the way that I feel about you."
He knew it had to hurt. Mika didn't deserve any of what was happening; even if he was of sound body and mind, the news that Nazuna still had feelings for Shu would've caused a rift between them all. The way they fell apart was so messy, and though Shu and Nazuna felt the most of the remnant pain, Mika wasn't uninvolved. Even if he hadn't been romantically involved with either of them and had only been there at the end of their tragedy, Mika played an integral role. He had to watch Shu spiral, yearn for him, be terrified of his own tongue as Nazuna approached them after they'd broken it off as he never wanted to hurt his beautiful doll.
"You don't have to worry about him. That chapter came to an end. You're the one I want to share my life with, is that not satisfactory?"
What a simple sentence it took to sate Mika's aching brain.
You're the one I want to share my life with.
For now, anyway. He was more than certain that he would have to be reminded of that fact repeatedly. That he would end up testing its validity, that he would end up making Shu regret ever having said something so bold. That his brain would nag at him endlessly to question Shu when it shouldn't. Because maybe he wanted to spend his life with Mika now, but who knew about the future? Would he even actually say yes if he did want to propose to him? Would he call the engagement off if Mika got too difficult to deal with, if these outbursts happened in increasing frequency?
He chose to believe the answers 'yes' and 'no', respectively.
At least, at the moment. Maybe his thoughts, too, would change.
Maybe he would have to be reminded. But they'd get there when they got there.
You're the one I want to share my life with was enough for him right now. He would choose to believe Shu's words -- that he was enough, even if he was tattered and broken. That he didn't have to worry. That everything was alright, and that his brain was simply twisting itself in circles due to his own lack of sleep and insecurities bubbling up to the surface. It was satisfactory.
"Nah. 'S just fine." And he meant that, although he was certain he could have worded it better. It was a little bit more than 'just fine'. "... 'll try not t'worry too much. Might needa be reminded sometimes, but.... thanks, Shu-kun."