Type: Vocaloid x Reader

Main Characters: Reader, Yuma

Author's Note: I want to apologize ahead of time, because this is a horrid, horrid one-shot. When I started writing it, I loved it, but then it fell apart at the end and now I...yeah, I hate it. Look, I'm sorry. I can't stop hating my stuff. I'm trying to, okay?

Anyway, I'll write another Yuma x Reader someday, to make up for this.

Also, I really, really wanted to do this in first person POV and make it a Yuma x OC...but I had already written 75% and I was lazy, so yeah. :P

Also, sorry Yuma doesn't like singing in this (I know, he's a Vocaloid, but meh...screw it).

~~~~~

You sat by the riverbank, sobbing into your palms as the water gurgled and rushed downstream. The sun hung low in the sky; it was like an orange sliced down the middle, the peach and tangerine-tinted juice spilling across the vast and multicoloured canvas of the sky.

Your hair fell over your face and your body shook with every sob you choked out, your breath hitching as you occasionally clenched and unclenched your fists, angry with yourself for not being stronger.

"Oi!" A voice rang out from behind you, "_____, is that you?"

You didn't turn because you didn't recognize the voice, though it clearly knew your name. Footsteps crunched against the rough, dry grass and padded closer till you felt a presence looming over you, a dull, dark grey shadow cast over your now frozen figure.

"_____?" The voice said again.

Furiously, you wiped your eyes and turned to look at the person. He had a small, concerned frown on his face and pale pink bangs that fell over and almost masked his dull green eyes. He was wearing a grey button down shirt, black pants and a tie that was the same shade as his hair.

"Who are you?" You asked, trying to make your voice sound like you hadn't been crying for the past half an hour or so, "How...how do you know my name?"

He smiled a little and stuck his hands in his pockets, his thumbs jutting out. "We're in the same math class, _____, and the same English class...my name's Yuma. I...sorta sit in the back of the class, so...yeah, not knowing me is justified."

"Oh," you glanced down at the grass by his shoes, "Sorry."

"Is everything okay, _____?" He asked, sitting down beside you, crossing his legs. You sucked a breath and shook your head.

"Yup," you lied, "Nothing's wrong."

"Then why were you crying?" He looked at you, his expression both warm and concerned.

"I wasn't crying," you insisted.

"_____, tell me," his voice was low. You met his eyes and he lowered his head so that his face was eye level with yours.

"It's just...," you didn't even know why you were telling this strange boy something so personal, "I can't...can't get what I want. Like, my...dream."

"Oh?" Yuma looked at you with wide eyes.

"Yeah, I just...," you shook your head and looked down at the grass between your legs, "It's complicated."

"Go for it," he said suddenly. Your gaze snapped back to him.

"What?"

"Go for it," he repeated, smiling this time, "Chase your dream, kid."

You choked out a chuckle because he had called you a 'kid'. "I...Yuma, I haven't even told you my dream. How can you just tell me to..."

"Whatever it is, I'm sure it'll make you happy, right?" He said, "After all, dreams, they're what we want. They're where our happiness is."

You giggled and felt your tears beginning to recede. "What are you, a poet or something?"

He shrugged. "My parents wanted me to follow in their footsteps and become an actor or a musician or something," he said quietly, looking out at the flowing river, "But I think I'd rather write for a living...or maybe study science, I'm not sure."

You felt a pang in your chest. "My parents want me to join them in the business world."

"And you don't want that, eh?" Yuma smiled. You found that smile somehow instantly raised your spirits a little.

You nodded. "I've always wanted to...well, this is stupid, but..."

"It's not stupid, I bet," Yuma interrupted, "Here, let me tell you something."

He paused and craned his neck forward, gesturing towards the river. "If I honestly think it's stupid, I'll get up and head down there and splash around in that freezing water. How's that sound, _____?"

You pursed your lips, amused. "Okay, fine," you said, "I've always wanted to be a nurse."

Yuma grinned at you, staying in his spot. You stared back and eventually, his gaze got to you and you had to turn away.

"Okay, okay!" You laughed, "So it's not stupid, fine!"

"It's a great dream," he said.

"When I was younger, I'd always yell it out, you know. 'I want to be a nurse!'" You raised your arms and emphasized your point, "And back then, my parents would laugh warmly. I guess, deep inside, they had my life planned out from before the day I was born."

"_____, they're your parents," Yuma put a hand on your shoulder, "They'll still love you no matter what you choose to do."

"But I don't...I don't want to disappoint them," you mumbled.

He sighed and fell back in the grass. You looked back at him.

"You still have time," he said, "You'll figure out what you really want soon enough. Just ask your heart."

You were quiet. This boy was trying to help you. He barely knew you, but still, he came by to cheer you up and make you feel better. Why did you have to be so difficult all the time?

"Thank you," you whispered, "Yuma."

He glanced your way. "It's nothing," he said, sitting up straight, "Just...don't cry about it, okay, _____?"

You nodded. "I'll try."

He got to his feet and offered you his hand. "Ready to move on?"

You looked at his pale hand. It looked like an offer of friendship, or maybe aid. He wanted to be there for you.

"Yeah," nodding, you took his hand and he lifted you to your feet.

His touch was warm and gentle but firm. It felt as though he wasn't going to let you go, like a little boy clings to a kite as a dangerous wind threatens to snatch it away.

You walked away from the riverbank and down the road, eventually arriving at a fork in the path.

"Want me to drop you off?" He said.

"I-It's fine," you smiled, "Thank you for the offer."

"So...," he put his hands in his pockets and your mind whirred back to him doing the same when he told you his name, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

You nodded. "For sure."

The next day, you made sure to sit in the back with Yuma. Even after your father had yelled at you during breakfast, as usual, for taking more science courses than business courses, and you felt the need to cry, you held it back. When you saw Yuma in you math class, you didn't feel like crying anymore; you felt like laughing.

"You know what'd be cool?" He said on the third day of your friendship as the two of you walked around the school field at lunch, "If I became a doctor or something and you became a nurse...we could work together!"

You laughed again, even though what he had said wasn't exactly funny. He frowned at you.

"What?" He asked. You stifled your laughter and shook your head.

"Y-Yuma, that's still years away!" You said. He smiled and you two continued walking.

A few weeks passed like this. You and Yuma became good friends. He was always there, always with his hand outstretched, offering to lift you to your feet. You excelled in your studies and your grades showed how passionate you were about science.

Summer was fast approaching and teachers began handing out course selection forms for next year's classes. You got yours in math class, the first class of the day.

Yuma was sitting next to you, watching you rake your eyes up and down the sheet. "What's wrong?" He asked.

"Nothing," you mumbled, "It's just that, well, next year's our last year before university. The courses really matter."

"Yeah."

You sighed and put the sheet down on your desk, still staring at it. "I don't have enough space in my schedule to take enough business and science courses..."

Yuma smiled. "You know what you're really after, _____. Go for it. Weren't your parents surprised when they saw your science marks?"

You sighed and recalled the day when you showed them your report card. They had seen it a week after the reports had been distributed because they were rarely home.

"They didn't care," you told Yuma, "All they cared about was how I was wasting my time with science and that I should be focusing on what I'm going to do in the future."

Yuma grimaced momentarily. "Oh," he said, "Well, nothing can stop you from taking hat you want, though, right?"

"I guess," you said, "It's not like they care about what I'm doing in school, as long as I end up where they want me..."

You were actually a little sad that day, mostly because you knew that after your last year, you'd have to make the big decision about the future of your education. Your parents had already decided what university they wanted you to attend, and while you could get in there without much difficulty, it wasn't where you wanted to go. There was no focus on the sciences there.

"Look at you, _____, all glum and down in the dumps," Yuma said as the two of you walked out of school that day. He put an arm around your shoulder and sighed, "You're coming with me today."

"Huh?"

Yuma took you to an ice cream parlour and you both bought ice creams. Then, he walked around the neighbourhood with you, both of you licking your ice creams, and finally headed out by the river.

"You're strong, you know that, _____?" He said as you two sat in the grass and finished off your ice cream cones. You shook your head.

"I'm not," you answered, "Yuma, I wasn't like this before. Strong, or whatever. I cried a lot. I stressed out a lot. I was worried."

"And now?" He asked, his tone indicating patience. You sighed and crossed your legs, feeling his eyes on you. He was always there to listen to your rambling.

"I guess...," you felt the words form in your mind but they were stuck in your throat. You suddenly began feeling a flurry of emotions, "I...I'm better now."

He nodded. "You are," he said, "I don't like it when you're sad, _____."

"I know," you whispered, "I'm sorry. You're...Yuma, you're the best friend I've ever had..."

You weren't exactly sure why it was so hard to say 'I changed after I met you.'

The school year went on and you chose the classes you wanted. You ended up taking four science classes, some math and English, and one business class. Occasionally, your parents asked about next year, but you managed to dodge the question.

Summer came, and you hung out with Yuma everyday, meeting by the riverbank before going off on adventures. Sometimes, you'd just go for a walk. Other days, you'd sit and talk or watch the clouds pass by. One day, when your parents were away on a business trip, you invited him to your home.

"Do you want to play video games?" You asked him as you led him around your home. It was really quite large, on account of your parent being rather wealthy, "We could watch a movie, if you want."

"Hmm," Yuma was looking around, examining the area as you pulled him along, "_____, this looks like a nice house to play hide and seek in, don't you think?"

"Huh?" you looked at him quizzically and he flashed a childish grin.

"Let's play," he said.

"But it's just the two of us!" You said.

"So?" That didn't seem to faze him, "This is still a huge house and finding the other person will be a lot of fun!"

You caved in and were going to hide first. Yuma sat on one of the lavish sofas in your living room, his hands plastered over his eyes as he counted loudly to fifty.

"Here I come!" You could hear him yell.

You were hiding in your closet, which, you admitted to yourself, was a pretty lame place to hide, given how big your home was. Still, you didn't expect him to find you easily, because there were so many potential hiding spots.

After a few minutes, you heard his footsteps come closer and you tensed up. They passed the closet and stopped. You wondered if he was going to leave.

Suddenly, the closet door flew open and he looked down at you with a grin. "Found you!" He exclaimed, getting down on his knees and tickling you.

You laughed and pushed him away. "Okay, okay!" You giggled, catching your breath and looking into his eyes. Your heart was still beating rapidly, but you felt that that longer you looked at him, the faster it pumped.

"You wanna go again?" He smiled. You were about to nod when a low grumble filled the air. Your face flushed as you realized that it was your stomach. Yuma laughed softly.

"Maybe we should eat something first, huh?" He said, getting up and offering you his hand. You looked up at him and hesitated for some reason. He frowned and asked, "Is something wrong, _____?"

"N-No," you shook your head and took his hand, getting up and nearly crashing into him. He grabbed you by the arms and helped you stay upright.

"You must really be hungry if you're falling over like that," he said.

You walked out of your room and down the stairs, leading Yuma into the kitchen, where the two of you began whipping up all sorts of different sandwiches. You watched Yuma as he worked quickly and felt that you couldn't look away. He wasn't something that you had never seen before; he still had the same flat, green eyes, porcelain skin, pale pink hair and skinny figure, but you felt something that you had never felt before when you looked at him.

"Hey, _____, you okay?" He asked, waving his hand in front of your face. You blinked and nodded.

"I'm fine!" You said quickly. Your knees felt weak and your face was growing hot.

"Your cheeks are red, _____," Yuma observed. You gasped and your palms flew up, cupping your face, "Maybe you should sit down. I'll bring the sandwiches."

That was the day you realized that you liked Yuma as more than a friend.

The days continued to pass and your feelings grew stronger. You always wanted to be with him, which was no different from how you had felt before you liked him in that way, but you wanted to hug him and hold his hand and do things like that.

You never told him; you were too afraid. It was something that would take a lot of courage. Even as friends, though, you still tickled him and put your head on his shoulder and occasionally snuck in a hug or two. Telling him officially was the hard part.

It was the last week of summer vacation and it wasn't even noon yet. You ran towards the river, huffing, excited to spend another day with your best friend, the boy who changed your life, the boy you loved.

You thought you'd be early, but he was already there, facing the river, sitting in the grass with his knees hugged to his chest and his head down. Instantly, you knew something wasn't right.

You stumbled down the gentle slope and trod through the grass, sitting down beside him and looking at the boy. He didn't move. His hair hid his face.

Slowly, you spoke. "Yuma?" You leaned close to him, "Are you okay?"

You heard him sigh softly before he lifted his head and looked into your eyes. "_____, my parents...they told me this morning that they've enrolled me in an arts school."

"What?" You frowned, remembering that Yuma didn't want that sort of future, "But..."

"They didn't even ask me!" Yuma spat, shaking his head, "It's three hours from here and they've got dormitories and... It's like a boarding school, basically, for the arts..."

You took a deep breath and put a hand on Yuma's shoulder. "Isn't our school good enough?"

Yuma grimaced. "They never really objected to me taking the classes that I did, but I know what they want and how far they're willing to push me...they probably had this planned ahead of time..."

"You really don't want to go, huh?"

Yuma sighed. "I'm so sorry, _____...all this time, I told you to chase your dreams, and here I am..."

He groaned and clamped his hands down into the grass. You watched as he slowly, silently vented his anger.

"We'll still see each other, won't we?" You had to ask the question, because you knew how much you loved Yuma, but you just couldn't tell him yet.

He stared at you and spotted closer. There was sadness in his eyes. For the first time in your life, looking at him made you want to cry. You gritted your teeth and tried to fight back the tears, wrapping your arms around him and shaking slowly as you suppressed your sobs.

"We will," he whispered, "D-Don't worry, okay?"

"Can't you make your parents switch back to our school?" You cried, "Please?"

"_____, it's the last week before classes start, and..."

"Don't do it for me!" You yelled, pulling back and wiping your tears, "Do it for your dreams, okay?"

He exhaled and looked down at the ground. The two of you were silent for a long while. Hours passed by, just like that, sitting in the grass and clinging to each other, not wanting to let go.

Finally, Yuma spoke.

"I'm not going to go," he said, "I don't care what happens. It's not what I want."

The next day, you went to the river, but Yuma wasn't there. That worried you, because he had always been there, and you were afraid if something had happened between him and his parents.

You called him but he didn't pick up. You knocked at this door but nobody opened. You wondered if your ever see him again.

Then, school started all over again. You walked into your first class and froze in place the moment you saw him sitting near the back. He smiled and waved to you and you squealed in spite of yourself, running up to him and wrapping your arms around him, hugging him tightly.

"Where were you?" You asked, unable to keep the grin off of your face.

"Well, I argued with my parents," he explained as you took your seat, "They sorta...grounded me and took my phone and things...I'm sorry I made you worry, _____."

You sighed, thrilled that he was still here. "It's fine," you said, "I'm just...I'm so happy you're here!"

He laughed softly. "You know, I actually tried sneaking out of the house at one point to visit you...but I got caught..."

You giggled. He was such a caring person. You thought back to how angry and sad he was on the day his parents told him about how he was going to go to another school. Now, he looked so different, like he had reverted back to his original self.

"Yuma, do you want to hang out after school?" You asked. In your mind, it was like a date, but you still didn't have the courage to tell him how you felt about him.

"Of course!" He hugged you and messed up your hair, making you laugh, "This calls for a celebration!"

Time went by, and days became weeks and eventually, you were fully focused on your studies, as exams were coming up. Your parents really didn't know what courses you had taken, and you worked hard to keep them a secret. You were sure that they wouldn't be pleased if they found out that you weren't doing what they wanted.

One evening, you went home, exhausted. Your parents weren't at home, but they were going to arrive late at night. You studied till you couldn't study anymore and left your books piled up on one side of your desk, yawning and going to sleep around seven at night.

When you woke up, the room's lights were on and you saw your parents' faces. You gasped and sat up straight, your eyes darting towards your desk, where your neat pile of textbooks was supposed to be.

"_____," your mother's tone was gentle but angry, "Why are you wasting your time on these things?"

"M-Mom...," you stammered. Your father crossed his arms and looked at you.

"You're only taking one class that's actually important, _____," he said, "How many times do we have to talk about this? You're going to study business!"

You gritted your teeth, suddenly fully awake. "I don't want to!" you yelled at your parents for the first time in your life, "I am not going to study something that I am not interested in!"

"_____, how else do you expect to get a good job, one that pays and..."

"No!" You cut your mom off, "You don't even know anything, you keep telling me to do one thing when I have my sights clearly set on something else! You know it's been my dream to be a nurse ever since I was a child! Why do you have to force this onto me?"

"Because we care," your mother said. There wasn't a hint of genuine emotion in her voice.

"If you cared, you'd let me do what I want," you growled, "Being a nurse is in no way a 'bad' job! You just want me to do whatever you do, like a little puppet, or something!"

"We're only telling you to do what's best for you," your father raised his voice and you fumed.

"Fuck that!" You swore, getting off of your bed and showing them the finger, which was unlike anything you had ever done to your parents, "You keep pushing me to do things I don't like! Can't you fucking see how much I'm willing to work so that I can get where I want to go?"

Before you could do anything else, your father grabbed your arm and slapped you across the face, making you cry out. Your knees gave way and you fell to the floor, your cheek burning, your eyes wet. You watched as your parents silently led the room and slammed the door shut behind them.

You took a deep breath and got to your feet, your cheek on fire, probably red. Your anger was finally dying down, but it was too late. The damage had been done. What next?

You walked over to the balcony door and pulled it open, walking out and peering down at the backyard pool below. You closed your eyes and carefully stood on the railing, your heart beating in your ears. You weren't even entirely sure of what you were doing, but you went for it anyway.

You made the jump and dove down into the water, making a large splash and sinking like a stone before rising to the surface, taking in gulps of air as you scrambled out of the pool and hurried out of your yard.

You sobbed as you ran down the streets, cold and wet. You wanted to go to Yuma's home but you wondered what his parents would think if they saw you in your current state, so instead, you just wandered the streets with your head down. Eventually, you headed over to the river and say down by the bank, making the grassy earth wet and muddy.

"_____?" You thought you heard Yuma's voice behind you. Then, footsteps.

You turned and saw him. He was barely visible but the moonlight cast a small glow over his tall, slender figure. He sat down beside you and you sniffed.

"You're soaked," he said softly, "_____, what happened?"

You shook your head, your teeth chattering. He took his windbreaker off and draped it over you.

"M-My parents...they found out," you shivered, "And I...I got angry and swore, gave them the finger..."

Yuma pressed a hand to your burning cheek. "They hurt you, huh?"

You started to cry. He pulled you into his arms and you sobbed into his shirt, your wet hair making his clothes soggy.

"I don't know what I want to do anymore, Yuma," you whimpered as his grip around to tightened. You turned upwards to look at him, "Maybe I should just do what they want me to..."

"_____, you know what I told you, right?" Yuma whispered, stroking your wet hair, "Chase your dreams..."

"B-But..."

"Shh, listen," he went on, looking you in the eye, "I have more than one dream, you know. Sure, I want to write and maybe become a doctor or something like that, but...you know, _____..."

He leaned forward and closed his eyes, kissing you, his warm lips linking with your cold ones. You froze, surprised, and tears continued to stream down your face. He gripped you tightly and you let your eyelids fall.

"You're one of my dreams," he breathed, pulling away, "I love you, _____, and I know that if your parents really love you, they'll be fine with whatever you choose to do."

"Yuma...," you locked your eyes against his and he frowned.

"Sorry, that wasn't very inspirational," he admitted, "But hey, I'm here for you, okay, kid?"

You nodded. Suddenly, the words were a lot easier to say, maybe because he had gone first.

"I love you, too, Yuma," you whispered. He wiped your tears away and hugged you. You pulled back and pressed your nose against his, slowly leaning forward again for another kiss.

The fact that you didn't come home that night worried your parents greatly. When you knocked at their door at six the next morning, wearing a dry, fresh set of clothes and with Yuma by your side, holding your hand, they opened up and broke down, but so did you.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled. Tears spilled from your eyes but you didn't cry; you just apologized. Yuma was still holding your hand as your parents hugged you.

"No, honey, we're sorry," your mother cried, "My parents wanted me to do something else, but this is what I chose, and I excelled, because I liked it. I made them proud."

"_____, I'll never hurt you again," your father stroked your cheek, "I know you'll make us proud, whatever you choose to learn, because you're my child..."

The emotional scars of years of arguing, pain and sorrow remained, having scathed your soul, but they made you stronger. You had Yuma by your side, and he was always there, offering you his hand and lifting you to your feet whenever you fell.

Of course, there were also times when he'd fall to his knees and start tickling you, but you didn't mind those at all.

Told you it was bad.

My humblest apologies go out to, Samantha-chan, the requester. I'm so sorry I screwed this up so badly at the end!

Also, I forgot to mention why Yuma walked by the riverbank that night. I'll edit it in later, but for now, I'll write it here: he always walked by and saw you (the reader), because he liked you, and then finally got the courage (?) to go down there and talk to you. So, he passes by the river that night because it's a habit.

I dunno...