[aeselion]

CAN'T STOP HYPER STELLAR ݂ ݂ ＳＯＬＡ 18 、they she 、proud wife to evil women

BRING THE LIGHT OF A DYING STAR ⠀ ⓘ this blog engages in dark & nsfw content.

RULES ✶﹒ MASTERLIST ✶﹒ KOFI ִ ࣪ ⋆ ٫٫

NEW ST☆R ﹒╰ › ༚ dancing in the rain

[aeselion]

i have a very sweet phainon wip but i just .. can’t bring myself to write it. i’m so sad 😞 unfortunately you guys will never get anything happy outta me

[aeselion]

𐔌 DANCING IN THE RAIN ོ𑁬

. . . wanting what cannot be had, tastes like the rot of the earth. something evil has grown in the seed, and it looks to conquer, consume, and ruin.

WARNINGS ── fem!reader 、brother in law!rin、rin is very mean 、infidelity 、name calling (bitch, gold-digger, etc) 、rin has *everybody* issues!!! 、original itoshi family members 、dysfunctional family dynamic 、angst (?) 、attempts at dry humor 、not super edited 、 suggestive, but still 、 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

SUPERNOTE 🫣🫣🫣 i was compelled by something beyond to write this fic. it would not leave me alone. For Months. i did have to tweak the idea, it was originally stepmom reader but i kept getting stuck, and i liked the idea more of exploring rin through his complicated relationship w sae (and my idea of the itoshi dynamics). one day, i'll write a bllk fic w no cheating n no duos..today is not that day! anyway, enjoy this one cuz i put my whole heart into it!! <3 reblogs & comments super appreciated!!! (p.s. thank you all for the kind comments on spread my wings ! it truly makes me confident in writing these crazy [and rly long] fics. i love my little community dearly ☺️)

WORD COUNT 17.8k

SAE ITOSHI IS GETTING MARRIED. It’s all anybody can talk about; it’s the only thing in the world that matters.

It's the biggest deal ever. In four months, the wedding will happen, and the world will finally spin again. Until then, it’s cheering and hugging and so much fucking parading: the great Sae Itoshi is becoming a kept man, and his wife-to-be, you, is the luckiest woman in the world. People would kill to be you, to be in your shoes, to have the Sae Itoshi half-hug around your waist, matching engagement bands shining in the camera flashes. For someone so private, his love sure seems to be loud and very, very obnoxious.

The first time anybody really met you was the engagement announcement. Sae doesn't come around often, and when he does, he doesn't linger. He leaves breadcrumbs of his life behind—there’s a large wall between him and his family, and he never breaches that barrier. Everyone knew he was seeing someone, no one ever pried. One day, he called home, asking to meet over brunch. The Itoshi’s were so excited, save for Rin, they were half an hour early. He showed up, not alone. He stood at the corner of the table, one hand on your lower back, the other directing toward his family members, formally introducing them. And then he said your name. And then he said,

“She’s my fiancée.” And everybody’s face fell.

Risu Itoshi took a demure sip of her mimosa and tilted her head to the right. “What?” she asked. Her voice was so high; it was evident she was trying to be composed and kind, but there was so much confusion and concern that she couldn't help but sound fake. “When..did this happen?”

“I proposed a month ago,” Sae replied, evenly, undeterred, like his family’s skewed expressions didn't mean a thing. “We’re starting to plan the wedding. I wanted to ask Dad if he’ll be my best man.”

And then it was Yasuo’s turn to take a small sip, but it did nothing against the clamminess in his mouth. He was almost lost for words. He sputtered, and then he laughed, “O-of course I will, Sae. But…we don't know anything about your relationship, let alone your fiancée—”

“That's why we’re here now.”

He took a seat beside his mother, you following suit timidly. Your hand raised in a small, unsure wave, “It’s nice to finally meet everyone.”

The first thing Rin noticed was that you’re nervous. That smile stretched across your lips is wavering and mild, like a farce you're fraught to let fall. He zeroed in on you, stripping you piece by piece with those sharp, scrutinizing eyes, and could only bring himself to scoff. Only Sae could get away with something so mediocre—like melting chocolate dressed in imitation gold, like a big fat joke.

You’d all begun talking amongst yourselves, how are you; what do you do for a living; have your parents met Sae; Rin is unimpressed, uninterested, and uncaring.

His hand practically beats the table down, the silverware clattering. “And for me?” he asked, tone thick and lined with anger. It startled you. Everyone else seemed unfazed, almost expectant of the outburst.

“I figured you wouldn't want to be in the wedding,” Sae shrugged.

He’d told you some about his skewed family relationship, the strain between him and Rin. You knew he was holding back, maybe out of fear or guilt, and you never asked further. It never made sense to you, but at some point, you just began to reason that they just grew apart, as siblings do. It’s just a part of life.

But this brunch was fueled by much, much more than distance. There was business long since buried, yet still alive, clawing its way into the peaceful scene. A morning, adorned by spring showers and posh decor, ripped right open, and out came a bound of blue blaze.

“I don’t,” Rin said, “wouldn’t wanna be the shitty pest that ruins your big moment.”

Everyone sighed. You looked around, so confused, so caught in the crossfire, unsure if you should succeed or respond.

Sae shook his head, “Don’t,” is all he said.

“Let’s be civil, Rin,” Risu said. Her words were almost a plea. Her face was screwed softly, lines of weariness pulling across her skin.

Her husband put a kind hand on hers, to back her up. The small mannerisms that show so much love, that say so much without a word ever passing. You softened slightly looking at it, but immediately felt a shift when you looked up at Mr Itoshi.

His face was so sharp—cleanly upset. You'd never seen a man be so mad, and never seen an expression so…disgusted until then. It wasn't toward you or Sae; it was to Rin, who didn't look too pleased, either.

“Civil,” he scoffed, “what a fucking joke.”

“Rin,” Yasuo whispered.

“I didn't come here to fight,” Sae said.

You leaned into his side, holding on to his arm. Something about it felt safe, maybe more like a shield. You tried to catch Rin’s gaze, “I would love it if you would join the wedding party. It means so much to me that Sae’s family is involved.”

His eyes cut to you. You swallowed thickly.

“Don't talk down to me. I don't need your pity.”

“I'm not— I wasn't trying to—”

He wouldn't let you talk. He looked back to his brother and took a sharp inhale, “You would marry this meek, mousy bitch before making up with me? Some fucking big brother you are.”

“Rin!” Their mother gasped.

“You need to get over yourself, Rin.”

“You first,” he snapped back, “you leave us behind and come back and we’re just supposed to drop to our knees and hail the king?” And then he looked back at you. You could feel your entire body being appraised, every flaw and secret coming to dawn. It made you shift uncomfortably, and hold on to Sae a little tighter. “And her? Is that the best you can do? This glamorous, better life than us you live gives you her?”

Yasuo turned to his son, “Stop it, Rin. Seriously.”

“We weren't both supposed to be the fuck-ups. You're supposed to be better than me; I'm supposed to look up to you, but you're just an idiot who wants to marry a gold digger—”

And their father’d had enough. He pushed Rin up and out from the table, grabbing Rin by his jacket and tugging him out of the booth, scooting out behind him. It was mildly rough, hard to watch, as Rin tried to resist his father’s strength.

But Yasuo had stayed undeterred, his lips balled into a tight circle as he kept repeating Get up, get up right now.

Your eyes shifted around, embarrassed and concerned. Risu patted her flushing cheeks, breathing lowly to herself. Yasuo and Rin practically wrestled their way out of the restaurant—the rest of which was undeterred: peaceful brunches and busy workers kept at it, like this wasn't a spectacle or mildly annoying. It bothered you, had your stomach quickly swirling into knots, killing your appetite and your excitement. Yet, you hadn't stopped smiling. That, itself, was a shield.

Risu gulped down the rest of her mimosa. Sae sighed, and he looked toward you. You could see the fluster slowly rising under his expression; you could see him trying not to show it. His breathing was slightly uneven, the tips of his ears were glowing warm, and he couldn't sit still, not totally. You brought yourself to ask him quietly, “Are you okay?”

He shook his head; not an answer, just dispelling your concern. “Let’s save it for later.”

And just like that, he and his mother were launched into conversation. What type of flowers at the wedding, the catering, the venue, the ideal weather…the things so far gone in your mind.

Behind Risu sat a large window. Rain slithered down the glass, and through the streaks, you could find Yasuo and Rin: the latter a shadow against the wall, a victim of beration. A finger in his face, then against his chest, and then he returned the favor, and then Risu followed your gaze. 

She sighed heavily, taking Yasuo’s sweaty glass and swigging generously, and reupped her smile. “Please, don't let them bother you, or let them change your perception of us,” her voice, again, was almost a plea. Her expression was not soothing, especially not against the backdrop of her husband and son going at it furiously. 

There was a secret beneath the Itoshi name, something they wanted to bed, but it was defiant and hungry. It chewed at the seams, and inched beneath your skin, wrapping around your brain. You returned her uneasy smile, just to make her feel better, but you couldn't stop looking around her head, watching.

“It's fine,” you told her, “I was expecting some polarization. It won't always be like this.”

Risu’s smile wavered. She finished Yasuo’s glass, raising it high. “Here’s hoping.”

The next day, you and Sae were trudging into his childhood home, stacks of luggage dancing wildly behind you. Risu wanted you close by before the wedding. She wanted to get to know you, she said; you shouldn't stay cooped up in that penthouse, she told Sae. He didn't want to, but you acquiesced. It was too hard to say no, especially with how Risu was looking at you. She has eyes just like her sons; they don't want for naught, but they ask less; they expect of you.

He was upset with you, but he didn't hold it against you. The hand set reassuringly on your shoulder amended that. But you couldn't help but feel weird…there was something at the doorstep of the Itoshi home—closer to an estate—that crept up your back, under your skin. Something that made your hands clammy and your stomach twist and turn—something just like what lay beneath the name, if not the same terror itself.

The home is a lovely shade of brown, a homely color, decorated with sea-glass blues, greens, and pale peaches. Family photos adorned the walls, alongside trinkets and trophies that culminated years of success. More than a home, it stands like a museum, a shrine to the perfect family. Yasuo’d told you it was all right to leave your bags in the foyer, and you stood there, at the summit of a rich mountain like a curious deer. Wide-eyed and dumb—naive, more than anything.

Sae’s childhood room—your new room, until the wedding—sits on the east wing of the house. Down a long, dim hallway, courtesy of another rainy day, across the hall from Rin’s. Yasuo laughed as he gave you directions, “You’ll know which one is Rin’s when you see it,” he said, holding the door wide for your fiancé.

Rin’s door was tattered. Decorated with chipping wood and scratches, and a petulant sign that reads ‘DO NOT DISTURB’ over the white remnants of stickers that spelled his name. Sae’s door was bland, but you could still see the outline of where the stickers lay. It was the only corner of the Itoshi home where some truth dared to slip out.

As you pushed Sae’s door open with your foot, the one behind you creaked open. You swallowed before you turned around, and then sighed softly before you looked up. “Hi Rin,” you smiled, “Did I wake you up or something? Sorry—”

“I’ve been awake,” he replied.

The talking stalled as you nodded, rolling your lips nervously.

You tapped your foot out of habit. That was something that Rin noticed at brunch, when he and Yasuo finally returned: you’re jittery, you tick. Your leg was vibrating under the table, and Sae had to physically subdue you. And then you chewed on your lip like you were hungry, but you couldn’t be bothered to touch your plate. Meek and mousy, like he’d said—weak. 

“Are you excited, Rin? I know it’s been a while since your brother was home, and this time, it’s for something so—”

“I don’t really give a shit,” he interrupted. Your words died in your throat. You smacked your lips together to regain some moisture, something to disrupt the uneasiness bedding on your tongue. “I don’t give a shit about either of you or your fucking wedding. My parents don’t, either; they just need something to do other than bothering me. So do me a favor: fuck off. Tell Sae to do what he’s good at and leave me alone.”

He started down the hallway, his door slamming against the moulding. You jumped, shaken by his tone and his presence: both looming figures, both attempting to shrink you. 

Perhaps for the first time in a while, you were defiant. “Rin!” You called after him. He hesitated to stop, only lingering for a moment. “I’m not gonna just give up!”

Words came from him, mumbled and lost through the distance. A part of you didn’t want to know what he said, knowing it’d be hurtful. But the majority of you itched to ask him, to know what he felt, what he thought. His anger was a good mask; it kept you physically at bay, but curiosity knows no bounds.

It kept you standing there longer than you should have, watching. Watching as Sae came down the hallway, lugging your ridiculous carry-ons on his shoulders. Watching as they crossed paths—as Rin looked down at his older brother, their gazes said a million words amid the silence. Even in how the light fell on them: Rin shadowed, and Sae christened, walking separate ways, but finding each other at a crossroads. This is no regular sibling rivalry or disconnection, not with that much unspoken pain.

You’d gone into the room as Sae approached, setting the box of his things at the head of his bed. You were dusting your sweaty palms as he came in, turning around and tucking them into your back pockets. “Hey,” you breathed.

“You okay?” He asked, sparing you a glance. 

“Tired,” you replied. A white lie over your grand maze of answers. “I tried to talk to Rin a little…”

“Oh,”

“Yeah…” You could tell he wasn’t trying to pry, and he didn’t want you to fill in the gap. Every time his little brother was mentioned, Sae looked oddly sick—covertly enough, but you could see it. If only you perfected reading him. “What’s really going on between you?”

His back stayed to you. Your bags were long placed on the floor, but it was like he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. He just rolled his shoulders, looking straight into the wall, “Nothing,” he said, evenly, “not anymore. Not on my side. He hasn’t gotten over it yet.”

“Over what?”

“An argument we had a long time ago.”

It was said like it was supposed to be the end, but curiosity got the better of you. You stepped behind him, sliding your arms under his and palming your way up his chest. You breathed against his back, head slotting into his neck. You stayed like that for a moment, holding him. He was soft in your arms, he always was. 

After a few beats of quiet, rainfall filling the silence, you finally spoke. “Have you ever apologized to him?”

Sae took a few moments to reply. “I don’t need to.”

He slithered from your hold. You caught his arm, keeping him from walking away. “Sae,” the way you said his name was a plea to stay, to listen. He exhaled deeply, letting you know that he was acquiescing. “Please talk to him. I hate this energy…I’m so uncomfortable. I want us to get married in a good environment, no fighting, no animosity, so, please. Whatever it is he wants to hear, just say it. For me?”

You made eye contact. There was promise in those sea greens.

He nodded, “Okay.”

You were alone in the room. Sae told you he’d grab the rest of your bags. So you sat on the bed, running your hands along the quilt, accompanied by the rain. His bedroom looked like how a twelve-year-old’s room would look, but so neat, so perfect. There were no photos, save for one in the windowsill, drenched in raindrops and jaded by age. You could see the image from your seat: it was of little Rin and Sae, no older than ten years old, hugging tightly, a football beneath their feet. Their grins were toothy and boyish, unbound. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen Sae smile like that.

Maybe if they made up, you would. Maybe your wedding means more to the family than you’d anticipated, and maybe that’s okay. 

The rain decrescendoed, and the sun slowly started to pull through. You took that as a sign.

—-----

Risu had you setting the table. Grayish-brown ceramic bowls holding fresh gyudon were taken one by one to the table. Yasuo sat eagerly in his place. Sae was in the bathroom. Risu was in the kitchen, ordering cups and pitchers onto a tray.

You came in to grab the last bowl, Yasuo’s bowl, and Risu followed slowly behind you. You forked off, taking the left while she went right, setting dishes on the table in a lagging synchrony. Yasuo chuckled heartily, clapping his hands together. 

“Oh, I’m starving!” Yasuo grinned.

You smiled back at him. “Long day at the office?”

“Always,” he replied, fingers drumming readily against the table.

Risu took to her end of the table, pulling her chair out, a knowing smirk across her lips. “It doesn’t matter what kind of day he’s had, he’s always ready to eat. A gluttonous fool.”

“I’m always ready to eat your food, dear,” he said, slyly, a wink in tow. You smiled sheepishly—they’re an affectionate couple, more than you’ve ever seen or been. It must feel good, you figured, for love to be reaffirmed every single day, in every single way.

Sae emerged from the bathroom. At the same time, Rin stepped out from the hall, head low, energy defiant. He stalked right past the table, making a line straight for the door. He and Sae crossed paths only for a second, but it was long enough for Risu to call for her son, asking, as sternly as she could, for him to join you.

“I’m not hungry,” Rin replied.

“Well, where are you going?” Yasuo asked, and Rin visibly tensed. 

“Out.”

“You’re not going anywhere, Rin. Sit down.”

“We’ve already set the table. Just..come and eat, and you can step out after.” Risu tried to reason. 

Sae stood to your left, his hand tenderly on your back. You kissed his cheek, a new habit you were trying to adopt—affection. He had no reaction; he just took his seat. “Just leave him be, Mom,” he said, “the food will get cold waiting for him.”

“No…I–I made this nice dinner for us, I want us to have dinner together.” There went her strength, wriggled out of her, leaving her almost petulant, disappointed. She sounded weak and heartbroken. Meek, like how Rin’d described you. You started to understand something then. “Whatever it is you have to do, it can wait until after dinner, Rin. Please? Come sit.”

All eyes were on him. But he was looking at you. At Sae. Like he was cursing you with his gaze alone. 

You began to shrink, gulping down thick breaths and spit, feeding the pit in your stomach with anxiety. You turned back to the table, matching Risu’s softened expression, “Maybe we should just let him go…”

“He’s not going anywhere,” Yasuo spoke. That voice, commanding like thunder. You were all forced to look at him. The humor that etched onto his olive skin was long gone—he was pressed, bothered and angry. He pointed a finger at Rin, “You’re not going anywhere. Sit your ass down at this table. I’m not going to tell you again.”

Rin finally looked at his father. They shared a long stare, accompanied by a long, thick silence. You could hear a needle drop in that room. It was deathly.

It was a long minute. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until Rin acquiesced, turning on his heels and heading for the table. He sat to the right, straight across from you, beside his mother, a chair’s width between him and his father. 

Risu put her hand on his arm. “Thank you,” she whispered. 

He didn’t reply.

He didn’t even look at her. His eyes seemed to be on you, but they were through you—glossy and low. His jaw was clenched, his lips pursed. He yanked his arm away from his mother. She sighed in defeat, but tried to smile anyway. “Let’s eat.”

“Take your hood off, Rin.” Yasuo ordered.

The defiance had left him—he obliged, ripping the dark hood off his head. His hair was shaggy and disgruntled, and he shook his head, sweeping the tufts over his eyes. Like a shield. Like a child. He sulked like a child.

And like a switch had flipped, Yasuo was bright again. His eyes crinkled as he smiled, “Thank you for the meal!” he chirped, picking up his chopsticks. 

You, Risu, and Sae parroted him, but only they moved to eat. Just like brunch, your appetite had been subdued. You looked at Rin with these wet, pitiful eyes, and you wanted to check on him. The question was on the tip of your tongue, but Sae took it from you. He tapped your forearm, catching your attention, “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” you muttered. You picked up your chopsticks to prove your point, feeding yourself a small portion of beef and rice. He didn’t pry further; he just nodded and continued to eat.

Yasuo called your name, “How’s the food?” He asked.

You smiled softly, “Delicious. It’s been a while since I’ve had a nice home-cooked meal.”

“You don’t cook?”

“Not often, no,” you answered nervously. “Sae prefers to cook, but sometimes, our schedules don’t align for dinner. Reheated food is nothing like a fresh meal.”

“You should make the time for each other,” Yasuo said.

You laughed nervously again. Rin spared a glance through his bangs.

“It’s not that easy. We’re busy,” Sae reasoned. Yasuo wasn’t having that—he clicked his tongue.

“It’s not going to get any easier with marriage. You have to make the time for each other.”

“Yasuo—” Risu’s voice died instantly as he kept speaking.

“Dinner should be the non-negotiable. No matter what, every night, you come back to each other and you eat. You release together.”

“Missing a few meals together isn’t the end of the world.” You kept trying to laugh, to lighten the mood. Your nervous chuckles just made the air thicker. Yasuo’s glare silenced you.

He shook his head, leaning back into his seat. “No, it isn’t. But it might be the end of your relationship.” He wiped his mouth, then scooted his chair back. “Excuse me.”

You seriously weren’t hungry anymore. You felt so embarrassed. “Excuse me as well,” you said, your voice breaking.

As soon as the bathroom door closed, you gasped a breath into the sink, tears slowly slipping out.

—-----

“He didn’t mean it like that.”

“It still hurt my feelings, Sae!”

He tucked his lips, folding his arms. You continued to pace back and forth, blinking furiously to keep yourself from crying.

For the last twenty minutes, you and Sae have been arguing. It took you five minutes to return to the dinner table, and you hadn’t much to say after that. The tension at the table was killer. As soon as dinner was over, you excused yourself to the room, with Sae following after you for damage control. He’s not hearing you—or, maybe he doesn’t want to.

“All I want is for you to tell your dad that he shouldn’t say stuff like that. Especially when we’re about to get fucking married.”

“I hear you, I understand that. I just want you to know that he wasn’t trying to doom our relationship to end. He’s old; he and my mom have been married for almost thirty years. They’re words of wisdom,” Sae stood up, and your pacing ceased. You pouted, hesitant to look him in the eyes. “Would something like this really be the difference between us getting married?”

You swallowed, “I don’t want it to…but—”

“But?”

“But he’s your dad. And he’s right. We can’t even make time for each other now, what’s gonna happen in five, ten years? I don’t want our whole relationship to be us waiting on each other—”

“You think all we do is wait on each other?”

“I think I wait on you. A lot.”

Sae nodded, his lips rolling and pursing. He took a step back, then another. “Okay,” he said, lowly. He wasn’t defeated, just depleted. You instantly felt bad, but you had no words. “Sorry.”

The conversation wasn’t over—really, it was just beginning—but you both were speechless. You accepted defeat, chewing on your lip to keep from crying. And you just walked out of the room.

And you kept walking. Walking right out of the house, mindlessly into the rain. It wasn’t that mindless when you ended up at a 7/11, in line buying a fresh pack of cigarettes and a lighter. 

You’d stopped smoking when you and Sae started dating—he wanted you to. It wasn’t healthy. But it feels good in the moment. It feels good to exhale your problems into a cloud of smoke. To watch it dissipate. To have your head a little lighter, even if just for a few minutes.

The rain had tempered off into a steady trickle. You stood under the awning of a neighboring boutique, keeping the flame of your cig protected. You were still soggy, disgustingly so, but your head was clearer than ever. That’s all that mattered.

“My brother know you smoke those?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin. The cigarette fell out of your hand, and the light was subsequently stomped out. You looked at Rin with a bit of anger. “Did you follow me here?”

He wordlessly raised his right hand, a plastic black bag hanging from his fingers. You could hear the glass clinking. You cocked your head, “You drink?”

“You smoke?”

Your tongue runs across your teeth. Rin’s expression doesn’t move an inch.

“Where are you headed?” You asked. 

Rin’s gaze shifted beyond you. “Doesn’t matter. Mind your business.”

You scoffed, then laughed dryly. “What is it with your family? Jesus…”

“Who knows,” he said lowly. More to himself than to you. And then he shrugged. “It’s not too late to tuck your tail and run away. Nobody would blame you.”

“Are you trying to get me to leave your brother? Why?”

Rin dragged his eyes to you, and they jumped all over your face before landing on your eyes. You only held eye contact for a few moments before you looked down at the ground, rocking on your feet. He didn’t say anything; neither did you.

He just started to walk past you, away from you. Leaving you under the awning, leaving you in this weird bubble of tension. Almost like it had a cue, thunder clapped, a bolt of lightning struck a ways away, and the rain picked up again. 

You just lit another cigarette.

—-----

Life in the Itoshi home didn’t get any better. They do a good job of pretending, though. For the most part, anyway.

They don’t rehash conflicts; they pretend like it never happened. What happened at brunch, and then at dinner, and everything after that, was buried. You came back from 7/11 and Sae had fallen fast asleep. You woke up the next morning and he was gone. Risu was in the kitchen, making breakfast, like everything was normal. When you’d asked her, she said everything was fine. “Sae and Yasuo went to the gym,” she hummed.

“And Rin?” You asked. You still don’t know why.

She hesitated to answer. You still don’t know why. “He’s sleeping.”

And that’s how every day has gone. Tense monotony, like there’s a mask daring to slip. It feels like you’re living in a dark cave, where a bear sleeps in the shadows—one wrong move, and you’ll be mauled to death. 

So you sit with angular tension—erect and stiff, aware and vigilant. You mind the way you hold the glass, the way your legs are folded, the proximity between you and Risu. Subconsciously, you’ve even mirrored her breaths. Anything to keep the threat at bay.

Risu has set a thick photobook on her left thigh, your right, and seven minutes have passed going through the Itoshi family history. It started with Risu and Yasuo’s wedding: a traditional one, a small one, a cheap one, she narrated. Then she was pregnant, three years in the making, and finally, something. Someone. Her baby boy, Sae.

At birth, he looked just like his mother. They have similarities now—their eyes, cheekbones, lip shape—but he was the spitting image of her. It made you wonder: if you and Sae had kids, what would they look like? You never talked about kids. You figure he’d prefer life without them. 

What would you prefer?

“I really wanted a girl,” Risu said, running her fingers along the laminated page. “Always wanted a daughter. …That’s why I kept his hair long; he looked like a pretty princess, and I could run my hands through it, and braid it…but it was starting to be too much, in his eyes a lot. He cut his bangs with kitchen shears. I almost had a heart attack!”

You laughed lightly with her. There was a cloudiness in her eyes, and you could see it slowly overtaking her. She swallowed thickly, looking at you for a moment. “Yeah,” she breathed, “He never let me touch his hair again. He doesn’t like it.”

“Sometimes he’ll let me,” you took a sip of your neglected wine, “only when he’s too tired to fight, really.”

Risu laughed at that. You stayed quiet, sipping again. 

“Stubborn little shit.” She flipped the page, taking a breath. The next sets of photos were Sae and Rin: bathing, playing, eating, napping, being boys, being brothers. “Both of my boys. Always so stubborn, so headstrong, even as kids. Though, it didn’t used to handicap them the way it does now.”

“I think it’s admirable…in some ways. I tell Sae all the time that I wish I could be as honest and forward as he is.”

“It’s a blessing and a curse.” Risu turned the page again. She didn’t see you exhale heavily, or the generous swig of wine you took. 

There it goes again—that sleeping bear. Grumbling, stirring, warning you. 

You set the glass down. You pointed a finger at a picture, center page: Rin and Sae on Yasuo’s shoulders, the boys holding a football atop his head. “So, you were always a football family?” You asked.

Risu shrugged. “It was how Yasuo connected to the boys. And then it became their thing; nobody could pull them away from it, from each other.”

The question began eating away at you. It always finds its way into your head, without fail. One day, it will yield results. You stayed quiet, mulling it over in your head. The moment seemed promising—Risu seemed promising. So, you asked,

“What did? Pull them away from each other, I mean?”

Risu’s lips rolled, and then pressed thin. It took her a moment to look at you, but when she finally did, her expression was unreadable. She raised her eyebrows and shoulders, and they dropped in one fell, almost defeated, swoop. “I don’t know,” she said. Her voice got a little quieter as she continued, “I wish I did.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Sae entered the living room. His brows furrowed at the sight of you and his mother, maybe even feeling the thickness in the atmosphere, and he steadied his pace further.

“Everything alright?” He asked, coming behind the couch. He put a hand on your shoulder and you held it, held him, quite tight.

You nodded, but Risu answered, “Mhm. Just took a trip down memory lane.”

Sae put his other hand on his mother’s shoulder. “You know that old book makes you sad. You should stop looking in it.”

Risu looked at you, and her eyes were saying, Exhibit A: Sae is proving her point. Her smile was fake, it’s almost pained. Her eyes flickered up to her son, and she patted his hand on her shoulder. She breathed a quiet “Yeah,” and swiftly closed the book, standing up and excusing herself.

She went to the kitchen, stopping right at the threshold, and turning back. “How does takeout sound tonight?”

You looked again at Sae. He looked a bit confused. You gave Risu a look that hopefully said what you were thinking.

“Takeout sounds good.”

—-----

Your first month in the Itoshi home brought you confusion, conflict, restlessness, and a cold. Three days passed with your body under attack, and despite what everyone chose to believe, you were feeling better.

You were quarantined to the bedroom, with Sae sleeping in the guest room until further notice. That day, another rainy Friday, you were able to come out. 

The Itoshis had booked an appointment with some florists, as well as three different restaurants for catering. You were supposed to go, and they were adamant about rescheduling so you could be in attendance, but you weaved your way out of that. A cough here, a sniffle there, a particularly sinus-y drawl of “I need to rest,” and they acceded. 

Sae wasn’t so sure about leaving you alone. But a part of it sounded like he wasn’t sure about making decisions without you. You still haven’t decided if that’s romantic or not.

You waved him off, “It’s fine, you’ll be fine. You know me. Just pick whatever you think we’ll both like.”

And as they were walking out of the door, Yasuo stopped, placing his card on the side table. “The Chinese restaurant a few blocks away has a great wonton soup; it’ll help you feel better.”

With that, they were gone. You watched them drive off, and as soon as the car was out of sight, you dropped the blanket from around your shoulders and danced excitedly. You felt like a kid who was finally left home alone—like you were ready to raid their pantry and snoop around and maybe even invite a few friends over. The excitement was really for the solitude. For the first time in a month, you would be left alone. Even if it was for just a few hours. It was a few hours of alonetime, of peace, and that was enticing.

The first thing you did was plop on the couch, burying your feet into the cushions. Risu doesn’t like feet on her couch—Sae must have picked that up from her. That’s the good thing about your schedules opposing: you can do things you truly want, you can act at your truest.

You turned the TV on, and you turned it up. Trashy, mindless drama filled the dead space with life, with your laughter. You’ve been feeling suffocated, and this was your first breath. 

About an hour passed, full of loud TV and doomscrolling, and you found yourself fit for a drink. Sae texted to check in on you, with a picture of the color palette his mother picked out. Reds, purples, oranges, a sunset theme. You simply replied, ‘Cute’.

And then you walked to the kitchen. Hopefully Risu wouldn’t notice that you helped yourself to her special orange wine. You pulled a glass from the cupboard and took it to the sink to rinse it. You turned the faucet on, gazing out of the wide window as you let the glass run under the water. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t freeze because you saw Rin.

You didn’t even know he was home. Yasuo made it sound like he was out with friends.

It made you wonder if they even bothered to check. What was he supposed to eat?

“Hey, Rin!” You found yourself at the back door, waving your hand to catch his attention. The rain had stopped some indeterminate time ago, but it was still dim and gray outside. The clouds looked threatening, but that didn’t keep Rin from playing solo in the yard, the black-and-white ball a blur between his fast feet.

You couldn’t tell if he couldn’t hear you or if he was ignoring you. It wasn’t until he shot the ball, forcefully and quickly, right into the side of the goalpost, that he looked at you. He was mad, maybe at you, or maybe at his shitty attempt, but he didn’t say anything.

It took you a minute to say something. “Are you hungry?!”

You hadn’t imagined Rin would humor you, let alone walk with you to the Chinese restaurant. He had his hoodie over his snapback cap and his head low, seldom glancing at you, let alone making eye contact. His silence was to be expected.

But there’s something in it, or something about it, that feels nice. Not suffocating, not in the Itoshi way. Like you have nothing to say, and contrary to the norm, that’s okay.

It was a twenty-three-minute walk to the restaurant. A part of you wished you’d just ordered in, but the sweat was worth the fresh, dewy air in your lungs, and the crisp May air against your skin. You’ve been cooped up in that house, losing your mind. This was an exciting moment.

The restaurant was small and busy. It was a Friday evening, after all. You and Rin stood in the order queue, quite, unfortunately, close. You stood with your back against the wall, so your right arm was pressed against Rin’s front. He didn’t look any happier about it than you did, so you thought you’d alleviate the tension.

“Do you come here often, Rin?”

“No.”

He didn’t even look at you as he replied. His voice was as hard as ever. It made you a bit nervous to continue—you hesitated, your teeth scraping against your tongue. 

“What’s your favorite thing to get from here?”

He took a moment to reply, eyes still avoiding your presence, “...Wonton soup.” He answered.

“Order 369!” The efficient cashier sang. You’d repeated the number under your breath when you received your ticket, so you instantly shifted your attention.

But for a moment, you lingered. “I wonder if it’s worth the hype,” you said, a little light, a little playful. An attempt to break the ice, but Rin is stubborn.

He just looked at you, eyes narrowed and gaze unamused. It made you smile.

“Anyone told you that you two are just alike?” You asked, still smiling. His face slightly creased. “You and Sae, I mean.”

“Shut up and get the food.”

The bag swung in between you as you walked back down the street. It was golden outside: the sun had finally broken through the cloudfront to sink visibly into the night. A chill still lingered in the breeze, but the air felt a lot sweeter, a lot fresher.

You breathed in deeply, then coughed out your exhale.

Rin’s face screwed up. “You’re stupid.”

“Um…?”

“...Coming out here like that. You’re sick. You should be at home.”

“And what? You would take care of me?”

It got quiet between the two of you. Rin only cut you a glance. You clicked your tongue, “Exactly. I’m fine. It’s just stress.”

Rin looked down at you—you still looked sick, with sunken eyes and puffy cheeks and a runny nose. How Sae could be with a woman so reckless, so gross is beyond him. He just doesn’t understand what it is about you.

He rolled his eyes, tucking his hands deeper in his jacket pockets. “Why doesn’t Sae take care of you?”

It was said lowly; he meant to mumble, but you caught him. You caught the sarcasm and the weight all the same. A part of you asked yourself the same question, but you always arrive back at the same answer:

“He’s busy.”

“Too busy to care about you,” he replied. It sounded like a question and a statement.

Your lips pursed, and your eyes narrowed, “No…” you drawled, “he cares about me. I’m his fiancée—he’s your brother, you know he wouldn’t try to marry me if he didn’t care.”

Again, another grumble set too loud tumbled from Rin’s mouth: “I don’t know anything about him.”

And you went to reply. Mouth open and a million words ready to tumble out, but you paused. Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you pulled it out. Almost like he had a cue, Sae texted. ‘Finally at restaurant 3. Mom is dragging this out. Don’t wait up, get some rest.’ He said. 

You held the screen up to Rin, your tongue poking out as though you’d won. “He cares,” you reiterated, exaggeratedly. “Told you.”

“Congratulations. I don’t give a shit.”

“He cares about you too, Rin.” You don’t know why you said it, it just slipped out. Maybe it was that look on his face or that tone—maybe it’s still that tension you walked into, and it’s still eating away at you and your relationship and possibly, your immune system.

You know Sae hadn’t spoken to Rin despite saying he would. You didn’t know if he ever would. They seem to hate each other, so desperately: it’s better to be mad than to be truthful. Defeat is more violent than deception. You just wished that someone in that family would speak to you normally. Maybe they could start forgiving each other.

“He’s not..y’know…good at showing it. You guys don’t seem like the most stable family so give each other some grace,” your smile was weak, your voice even more so. Rin had an expression like he could explode you with his mind. “I know you care about him too.”

“Shut up,” Rin said. He didn’t take kindly to your elbow nudging him. He found himself pushing you back, albeit rougher. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. So shut up, and mind your damn business.”

“Maybe if someone told me what’s really going on, I’d know what I’m talking about.”

“...That’s for your fiancé to tell you.”

“He won’t tell me anything. Your own parents don’t even know,” you fully turned to face Rin, taking advantage of the stalling crosswalk. You somehow looked even meeker: a crumpled paper doll pressed back out, pity and stress finely lined on your expression. “Was what happened really that bad?”

Rin kept his teeth sunken in his tongue. The street signal turned, and it was time to cross. He didn’t answer you; he started walking away. 

You clicked your tongue, more annoyed this time, taking quickly after him.

“If you won’t tell me, will you at least not punish me for it?” You asked, catching up to Rin. 

He looked down at you, right in your eyes. Again, that gaze—piercing, like he was reading through you, seeing you raw. Your skin started to crawl. “I’m not punishing you for it. I don’t care about you.”

—-----

Sae and his parents didn’t get back to the house until 8PM. 

You and Rin arrived back home at 6:15, and you ate alone at 6:21. He told you he wasn’t hungry, and he’d eat his food later. He was a bit nicer when he said that, so you took that as his way of saying sorry. Giving you space. The brothers really are alike.

By 7:30 you were back in the bed. You cleaned up, showered, and tucked into Sae’s firm full-size. Doom-scrolling commenced. When you heard the front door close, you pretended to be sleeping. You don’t know why, it didn’t matter when you pretended to wake up only five seconds into Sae entering the room.

He was a bit more tender: his hand pressed against your forehead, then caressed your face. And his voice was low as he spoke. “Go back to sleep,” he whispered, “Sorry.”

You shook your head. “‘Ts okay.”

“Got you something,” his fingers were brushing your lips, feeling how chapped they were. But you kissed his fingertips lightly, sweetly. He kind of leaned into your touch. “The second restaurant had an in-house pastry bar. Your cinnamon roll’s in the fridge. Promise you’ll have some water with it.”

The smile that pulled at your lips was so flattered, so giddy. He cares; he can show that he cares, always in the littlest ways. “I promise,” you said, softly. Sae smiled back, his eyes crinkling slightly.

Only at nighttime, when it’s late and you’re tired, does Sae Itoshi become himself. He becomes human. Only at nighttime, only with you. Through all of the stress and discomfort, you still really wanted to marry him, to make the real Sae forever happy.

He started to pull away from you, and you grabbed his arm, stopping him. Your eyes were all soft and pleading. “Sae,” you breathed, “come to bed.”

“Can I shower first?”

You shook your head, burying your cheeky, flustered smile into the pillow. There was a playful glint that swept Sae; it always did. How much you wanted him, just to be there, to have and to hold, mattered so much to him. Because you wanted him, imperfect and raw. You wanted him when no one else would. So he couldn’t deny you; he really loved you. He loved how you made him feel.

He let you pull him onto the bed, unmoving as you positioned yourself onto him. And he sunk into your arms, and your fingers could trace into his hair. And he sighed, with his eyes fluttering. 

If it could always be that way, you’d be happy.

—-----

Two months into living with the Itoshis leaves two months until the wedding. Until some stress-free peace and quiet. Until a restful sleep, where your dreams aren’t polluted with cold feet, broken fingers and vows, and the entire world laughing at your pitiful attempt at clout chasing.

June started with a week of rain. Everything seemed to forecast trouble.

On the third day, a severe thunderstorm threatened the area. You woke up to the news bright red, the meteorologist predicting heavy, flooding rains, raging winds, and intense, near-damning lightning strikes. A thunderstorm for the ages, they said. It’d put Zeus to shame.

What was supposed to be a day spent getting tailored for your wedding turned into an Itoshi at-home event. Risu told you two that “You’re gonna get stuck out there, with all the flooding they predict. It’s not safe.”

And so you canceled, and you stayed, cooped up in that big house that was starting to get smaller and smaller by the day. A part of you had begun to wish that you did stay locked up in Sae’s penthouse, because the Itoshis are hungry people. They feed off your life.

Parts of you have waned away, and all that remains are the bones: blue and shaking, a ball of anxiety waiting to roll over and burst at any moment. They’d seen it written all under your tense smiles and stiff body language. Yasuo told you that “you better loosen up! All that tension will lead to acne and weight gain and with the wedding so soon…”

Risu hit her husband’s chest, “Stop that, don’t shame the girl.” And then her attention was on you. There were sparkles in her eyes, like your grim was the light in her dark tunnel. “We all could use a little downtime…say, why don’t we…”

She trailed off, walking into the living room and pulling the drawer of the TV console open. Yasuo lightly chuckled to himself but you were quite confused, face screwed up glaringly so. Risu shuffled around the drawer, then hissed in triumph as her hand shot to the air.

Tightly in her palm, she held a deck of playing cards. A cheshire grin was wide on her face. “We’re overdue for an Itoshi game night!”

The choice to opt out was unfortunately only awarded to Rin, much to you and Sae’s dismay. You wanted to watch a movie before the power inevitably gave out—he told you about some nice thriller flick some of his teammates recommended. It would’ve been nice, just to have the two of you, quiet on the couch, how it is when you’re home. Nothing and nobody else in between your peace.

You realized why he kept you private. He was keeping you sacred—your relationship sacred. 

Yasuo and Risu cleared the way in the living room, and the four of you sat in a wide square. Risu at the top right, Sae adjacent, you beside him, and Yasuo adjacent to you. Your legs were tucked under your butt. You were practically beginning to curl into yourself. Sae sat criss-crossed. His father had one leg bent, the other extended down the length between you. His mother had her legs stretched and spread, the stack of cards on the ground between her legs. She shuffled them around. A quiet sound beside the thundering rainfall.

She gathered the cards and ran her thumb across the top, giving them one last count. Her smile was devious, her eyes were happy, and glued on you. “Ever played daifugo before?”

You shook your head, feeling the urge to nervously laugh. “No, I…I’ve never even heard of it before.”

She and Yasuo shared a knowing look. You glanced at Sae, looking for an answer, but he just shook his head. “It’s their favorite game,” he whispered, “they always win.”

“That’s right, son,”

“It is not,” Risu snipped, wriggling her leg to kick her husband. She just barely missed him. He stuck his tongue out at her, lightly slapping her dancing toes. “I always win. This is my game—you all have football, but I am the very rich man. Undefeated!”

“That’s not true.” Yasuo and Sae said at the same time.

“I used to win all the time when we played,” Sae stated matter-of-factly, but you could hear some of that Itoshi arrogance lacing through.

Risu rolled her eyes. Her husband laughed, “That sounds like a challenge.”

“It was never not a challenge,” Risu said, knocking on the deck. She began to deal them out, one at a time, swiftly.

“Let’s up the ante, then.” Yasuo pulled himself off the ground unceremoniously, his expression just as mischievous as you’d seen Risu’s. This couple…somehow managed to raise two of the most guarded men you’ve ever met. In some ways, it makes sense, but moments like this never fail to leave you perplexed. 

He walked to the kitchen without another word, but you could hear the glasses clinking. You and Sae shared another glance.

“Dad, no,” Sae said. His expression dropped into even more exasperation when Yasuo returned: four shot glasses held expertly between his fingers, a tall bottle of vodka in his left hand. “No.”

“Yes, Sae. Yes.” He mocked, laughing with Risu. “Loosen up a little bit. Look at your fiancée, here—she’s never played daifugo before. She looks like her head is going to explode with all those cards in front of her! What better way to learn than with us, and all of your inhibitions gone.”

He was laughing. He and Risu were laughing. And maybe you were in your head a bit too much, but at some point, it felt like they were just laughing at you.

You just kept up the strained smile, which had quickly become second nature to you in that house. Risu dealt all of the cards, and you swept up your heap, while Yasuo preemptively filled the shot glasses. 

“So,” you cleared your throat, looking over your cards, “how do you play?”

Risu and Sae took turns explaining it to you. The highest-ranking cards are The Joker and 2, respectively, with the value diminishing from Ace onward, three being the weakest. To win, you have to get rid of all your cards first—in your case, fourteen, because of course, you were the unlucky bastard to get an extra card. You have to play your cards in order to beat the others, whether that be in a single play or a stack. A stack requires the cards to be of the same number, and you have to have confidence. Your opponents could easily overpower you with a combination you can’t beat, and you lose. And if you lose, you’re taking a fat shot, as per Yasuo and Risu Itoshi.

You’re not really a fan of games like this: where everybody is watching you, and your moves tell a lot about your character and judgement. The Itoshis are people who never forget. They hold grudges, right in your face, just to watch you wallow in the guilt. It’s so minute, so harmless—it’s just a game, but nothing with them is just as it seems. It’s not just a game; it’s life or death.

“Are you ready?” Risu asked you. You rolled your lips in, looking around nervously. Sae’s face, calm and bored, was the only thing that made you feel somewhat better. You nodded. Risu’s smile grew, “Good. ‘Cause you’re going first.”

“Huh?!”

“Mom…”

“What? It’s like teaching a baby how to swim: you just have to throw ‘em in, and the instincts will kick in,” she looked at you again, this time in the eyes, this time more sincere, “It’s easy, don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of it.”

You were so nervous. You were shaking, so unsure of what you should do. Worst-case scenario, you put out a set, and they all burst into laughter, because that’s the most amateur mistake someone could make. And then they’d think you’re not a critical thinker, and you’re naive, and you’re—

You put out two fives. A spade and a diamond—a Rin and a Sae, a Risu and a Yasuo.

They were all quiet for a moment. And then Sae turned to you, “That’s good. Good start.”

You smiled sheepishly, “Thanks.”

Yasuo went next. Two sevens, a diamond and a heart. His expression was shit-eating, like he was determined to make you lose. 

It was Risu’s turn, and she skipped. Your eyebrow quirked. “You can skip?” You asked.

“Mhm,” Sae hummed, plucking his chosen cards. “It’s how you see everyone’s choices, how many good cards they waste on overconfidence.”

He played two eights, just slightly pulling a leg over his father. Yasuo grunted. You just nodded, letting the cogs in your brain turn over the new information.

With that, you passed your turn. Yasuo smirked. He skipped his turn as well.

All eyes were on Risu. She put down two tens—a bold move, you presumed. The way her eyes cut to Sae, wordlessly asking him what his next move was, was full of confidence. The competitiveness clearly runs in the family.

He skipped his turn too. Then they were all looking at you. The only cards that could beat her tens were the face cards, and a pair of twos. You felt yourself starting to sweat a little, wracked with nerves. 

That’s what they wanted you to do—to sweat and make the wrong decision. To not think rationally and prove whatever overarching thesis they had against you being unable to live the high-intensity Itoshi lifestyle. It was a game, but it felt like a question. Like they were asking you who you really were. 

You’re smart. You’re perceptive, keen, even. You know when people are thinking about you, when they’re trying to play you. You know when you should lie down and roll over. So you lied down and rolled over: “I’m gonna pass,” you said. And then you looked to Yasuo. “What are you going to do?”

He laughed, partially airy from disbelief. You’d grown some balls or some sense, it seemed, and he was humored. He’s never met a girl quite like you. He wondered how you and Sae truly got acquainted. 

And then he did what you knew he was going to do: two kings, arrogant and bold, a statement. He looked at you as he put them down. The tension in your gazes grew. 

Risu laughed at her husband, “You meat-headed fool,” she chided, “you always pounce at the first sign of weakness.”

She showed herself. An Ace and The Joker. Unpredictable and sharp—unbeatable. 

Sae passed.

You lingered in your turn, wondering if you should take the plunge. If the win was worth it. The catharsis, the silence…

A pair of twos. A spade and a diamond, a Rin and a Sae. You put them down, your bottom lip between your teeth.

The family was silent. Then Risu burst into a fit of chuckles. “Oh, you son of a bitch,” she snorted. “You’re good. I like you.”

“I would hope so…” you whispered to yourself. It’d been two months…surely it hadn’t taken her that long to figure it out.

“Well played,” Yasuo grinned, picking up his shot. He rose it to you, congratulating you. “C’mon, Ris’, Sae, time for the losers to take their plunge.”

They followed—Sae, begrudgingly so—cheersing to you and your flawless victory. In that moment, it truly felt like a win. The Great Itoshis could accept defeat and bow down to you. More than anything, they could accept you and your genius. That’s all you’d really been waiting for.

Forty-five minutes later, you’re all tipsy, maybe even drunk, and the triumph that came from your first win had waned. You continued playing that match until Sae was the first man out, the daifugo. Then, it was Risu, who’d tied you and her husband up in a duel for who’d be the hinmin. By the skin of your teeth, you defeated Yasuo with two queens. He kissed his teeth, but he bowed down to you. Since that moment, you’d been trying to get up over them again. They weren’t going easy on you anymore.

Yasuo started the second match with a triplet: three sixes, with a smirk on his face.

After four rounds, Risu was the unabashed winner. She had demolished all of you with a spade sequence, emptying her hands. She was good. Calculative and her confidence was a good mask. 

It kept going like that. A loss and a shot, a loss and a shot, a win and a glimpse of hope. In fifteen minutes, you and Yasuo were giggling messes, while Risu and Sae were only just getting started. They were having a furious go. Intense silence and eye contact as they passed and played. It was like they were playing football with cards. You started to understand Risu’s philosophy.

Yasuo was having a ball. Both of their hands were dwindling; it was down to the wire. He licked his lips over, “Whoever loses,” he began, picking up the vodka. He started pouring more into the glasses, right until the liquor threatened to bubble over the sides, “is taking both of these shots.”

“You’re crazy,” you giggled.

He leaned over to you, nudging your arm. “I just want Sae to lose. He’s a hard nut to crack.”

“Not gonna happen,” Sae replied, never looking away from his mother. 

Risu was flushing red, laughing to herself. It seemed that she was a lightweight, and her losing shots were starting to get to her. She pointed an unsteady finger at her son, “It is gonna happen,” she sang, “Take that!”

She put down two kings.

Sae’s lips only slightly quirked. He put down two twos that he’d been saving, and his hands were free. You cheered, pouncing on him and doubling him over.

Risu screamed, and the thunder clapped behind her. Yasuo’s groan turned into hearty chuckles. As you smothered Sae in vodka kisses, Yasuo fed his wife her shots of defeat. His hands were stabilizing on your back; Yasuo wrapped Risu in a comforting half-embrace. It was a moment of domestic bliss, of purity, that made you feel at home. It felt normal, like what you’d expected before meeting them.

Risu clapped her hands, “Okay! I’m ready! Round…what number are we on?” You all mumbled a garble of unsure estimates, soon falling into laughter. Sae sat you up, and you awkwardly maneuvered onto his lap. He held you close. Risu wriggled her fingers at you two, “Let's go! I’m ready to win!”

You pried Sae’s hands from your stomach, slowly crawling across the ground. “Okay, okay, wait. I have to use the restroom!”

Risu clicked her tongue exasperatedly. You giggled in response. “I’ll be fast! Don’t start without me!”

You scurried quickly down the dark hallway, your rushed footsteps a beat faster than the slowing rain. It was forecast to temper on and off all night. The weather had the lights flickering, threatening an outage, but it went hardly noticed during your fun. You didn’t give the Itoshis enough credit—when they want to, they can step down from that high horse and be normal, be people.

It didn’t seem too bad to make them your family, all of a sudden.

As soon as the bathroom was in sight, you practically thrust yourself through the threshold. It was warm and damp in the room, and Rin Itoshi stood before the door, warm and damp, and quickly thereafter yelled at you: “What the fuck?!”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You replied, immediately backing yourself into the hallway again.

His hand protectively held the towel at his waist. Your eyes instinctively followed the action, falling down the shadowed image of his toned frame. You swallowed thickly—a few dirty thoughts leaving a lingering taste as they passed.

But he was mad, or uncomfortable, or confused, or all three. He stepped out of the bathroom, still keeping a considerable distance between you. “What the fuck are you doing?” He asked you.

“I was just going to the bathroom—I had no idea—”

“You just burst into an occupied room?”

“No! I didn’t know you were in there. The door wasn’t even fully closed, and it was dark in there!” You huffed, “Do you actually shower in the dark?”

Rin rolled his eyes. “Fuckin’ idiot,” he mumbled under his breath. He started to walk to his bedroom. 

At some point, his insults had stopped truly hurting your feelings. But you were tipsy, bordering on full-on drunk that night, and something about that hurt you. It didn’t stop you, still. That’s another thing Rin noted about you: you’re annoyingly persistent, to the point of no return. It’s exactly how you ended up in this position. Desperately needing validation and community, you stumbled into the worst home possible for that kind of shit.

“Wait, Rin,” you called after him, voice a bit more sober. “I feel bad that you’re just holed up in your room all the time. You don’t wanna join us?”

His expression was flat, and deeply shadowed. You couldn’t see him fully, but somehow, he was the clearest he’d ever been. “No,” he said. He was lying, you could tell.

“You should. It’d be nice to have you play with us. Sae was telling me how you guys used to strategize against your parents…”

Rin scoffed. He was definitely rolling his eyes.

You continued anyway. “I’d like you to join us. But no pressure. I understand if you don’t.”

He didn’t say anything. He just walked into his bedroom, the door swinging in the wind, but gently closing. Something about that made you smile as you went into the bathroom.

You finally emerged moments later, a little more sober, a little expectant. He hadn’t joined his family. They were watching you return, their conversation dying as you appeared. 

“Finally! Did you fall in while you were in there?” Yasuo asked, immediately chuckling with his wife.

Fluster bloomed across your expression as you softly laughed along. “No, sorry. ..Rin was showering, so I had to wait.”

Yasuo rolled his eyes, seemingly playfully, but something seemed dark about it. He clicked his tongue, sighing out, “That boy…”

“Stop.” Is all Sae said. It took you by surprise. It was the first time you’d ever heard him defend his brother.

Risu flicked a finger against her husband’s temple. She turned to you, her smile a little faker, “Never mind that,” she said, then turning to Sae, “Sae, deal the cards now! Mama’s ready to win again!”

That made the air a little lighter, a little easier to breathe. 

Sae licked his thumb and began dishing out the cards. Thunder clapped, then the lightning struck, and the lights flickered.

Like a phantom, he’d suddenly appeared in the midst. Rin was standing at the threshold of the living room and east wing, looking around and down at all of you. For a split second, his look lingered on you.

“Well, well, well, look who it is. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that’s Rin Itoshi coming out of his bedroom, gracing us with his presence!” Yasuo joked. No one really laughed but him.

“Oh, shut up,” Risu bit. “Hi Rin, honey. Come to join us?”

Rin just nodded, almost timidly. You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t melt a little bit. 

Risu moved to make room for her son to sit beside her, but he chose to sit beside you. A bit close, albeit, but evidently as far from his father as he could be. Yasuo didn’t say a word, but he didn’t need to. The quiet was extremely telling.

Sae was almost leaned over you as he spoke, “Are you playing, Rin?” and his voice was so soft, so low. In the last two months, they’d barely spoken five words to one another. Sae almost sounded like he was cautious. Maybe because he knows how reckless he can be, how hurtful.

“No,” Rin replied, his voice just as low. “I’ll just watch.”

And so the game began again, with you starting off. The air was a little hostile, and you hesitated to move. You hadn’t noticed Rin peeking over your shoulder until he moved a little closer. You could smell the fresh shower on him: the clean, fresh scent of water, like a hidden lake crowded by wispy willows and thick birches. It was a warm smell—like the word peace. So ironic, it is, for a man so turbulent to embody peace.

But he leaned over to whisper advice. “Don’t pussy out,” he said curtly, “use the sixes.”

And Yasuo tried to interject on the grounds of cheating, but Risu blocked him. You could tell that she liked that her son was there, even if he was helping you cheat.

It didn’t matter, anyway—thirty-some minutes later and you were still chasing that valor from the beginning of the night, slurring your words and giggling stupidly with Risu.

The latter could barely sit up straight. Her eyes were half open and her face was firetruck red. She was gone, and Yasuo was on a steadfast track behind her.

Risu won your nth round of daifugo, but none of you could physically take another sip. Sae was the only one holding out strong, but that was because at some point he decided to negate his shot, and accepted spectation as his losing punishment.

Yasuo was a jumbling mess, hobbling up onto his feet with a sideways grin. He lugged Risu up with a deep groan, and you just couldn’t stop laughing. Even Sae found himself chuckling. Rin was in disbelief.

“Alright, us old folks are calling it a night,” he said. 

Risu tugged at his hair, “Who y’callin’ old, punk?” She slurred.

“Whatever you end up doin’..make sure you clean up.” With that, Yasuo carried his wife away, much to her grumbling dismay. “Good night.”

Sae shook his head as his parents walked off, slowly turning to you. “You don’t wanna play still, do you?”

“No,” you replied, shaking your head. “We should watch that movie you mentioned! I’m still looking forward to it.”

“It’s late. We should save it for another time.”

The lights started flickering again.

But you were persistent.

“C’mon Sae, please,” you begged, your lip extra pouty and extra annoying. “I’ll clean up, you get some snacks.”

He moved without you having to ask again. Your pout turned into a wide smile instantly, and he rolled his eyes. He really loves you, because you are really annoying. 

“You’re getting water,” he informed, walking away.

“Mkay. Thank you.” You hummed. 

Sae took the empty vodka bottle and arrayed glasses with him to the kitchen, and you took to sweeping up the cards. Rin didn’t move or say a thing. It was like he was scared to, like he would ruin your moment.

His brother was so soft with you, in a familiar way. That tenderness, that doting, that love—something that he himself once had. Rin felt himself feeling a little jealous, almost sickly so. 

But he couldn’t hold that against you. Not when you could look at him like that, almost like how you look at Sae, and you invite him in. “You wanna watch the movie with us?” You asked him, while uncoordinatedly shoving the cards back in their box. “It’s supposed to be scary, I think. I know you like scary movies.”

“What’s it called?” He asked. He didn’t bother asking how you knew what type of movie he likes.

You pursed your lips for a moment, racking your brain. When no answer came to mind, you perked up, facing the kitchen. “Sae! What’s the movie called again?”

He stepped backward into view, his reply in tow, but Rin wasn’t really listening. He was losing himself in his head, in a bunch of thoughts and feelings he’s been trying to bury, but yours and Sae’s presence dredge up. Loneliness, speechlessness, animosity swarm Rin—have been swarming Rin—and he hates to admit that he craves life, peace, sanctity. Weirdly, he craves you. 

So he accepted your offer, still timid and quiet. He needed the company more than he’d admit, because that’s weakness. That’s accepting defeat; that’s letting Sae win. 

The lights flickered again. And then the thunder rang out with an echoing vengeance, the lightning clapped, and the power lost that battle. The house was pitch black, with the windows offering slivers of moonlight through the downpour. 

No matter how old you get, your fear of the dark will never temper. In that moment, you felt your heart skip a few beats and your breaths thicken. It’s the unknown in the dark, the silence, the isolation, that takes you back to those long nights filled with nothing. Just yourself, and the lingering breeze of dysfunction. 

You slithered closer to where you remembered Rin, sitting shoulder to shoulder. “What are you doing?” He asked. You didn’t answer.

Sae called your name from the kitchen. You could hear his footsteps padding around, and see the faint lines of his silhouette shifting before the window. “It’s okay,” he said, light flashing on. It was his phone, highlighting the small area. “The lights will come back on. It’s fine.”

“What, are you scared of the dark?” Rin asked. His tone was indecipherable.

You shrugged, forgetting he couldn’t see you. “It’s a long story,” you said, clearing your throat.

Sae walked into the living room, bringing your water. He was intentional not to shine the light in your eyes, keeping it focused left, toward Rin. He handed you the water, sparing his brother a glance, “Don’t be a jerk, Rin.” He said, his tone even, but a little sharp. “We all have things that haunt us.”

Thunder clapped again. You all stayed silent until the lightning flashed, and Sae sighed, pointing his phone down the west hallway. “I’m gonna see if I can get the backup power going.”

“You don’t need to,”

“That’ll be a waste of time.”

Sae moved the light back to look at you. “It’s worth a shot,” he said, lowly. He focused on his brother. “I’ll be right back. Keep an eye on her; don’t go anywhere.”

Rin scoffed as Sae walked away. His light waned with him. And though a part of you needed to pull out your phone, you just sat there in the dark, next to Rin, counting breaths and raindrops.

“Hey, Rin,” you said after a long moment of silence. “Does it always rain like this out here?”

You could feel him shrug, “During the summer, sometimes. …Mom used to say it was bathing the earth, cleansing sin.”

“That’s poetic.”

“It’s stupid.”

“I don’t think it is. It’s hopeful, y’know. After the rain, we can start anew. The world is cleaned of yesterday, and tomorrow is a new plane…” you trailed off. You found your fingers picking at each other. “You don’t get that feeling from the rain? The comfort?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

You wet your lips, “Sure, but– you don’t feel it deep inside, speaking to you? It’s like, sometimes, I’m so alone, and the earth is my only friend. It’s the only thing that can hear me.”

And then you started to get choked up. It was half drunkenness, half release; so much had been stored inside of you, stifled under the silence, the emptiness. In another life, you wouldn’t need everything to be perfect—this wedding, this family, life itself would be able to exist in its natural imperfections and not remind you of the desolate landscape of your memories. The empty nights, searching for yourself, for your purpose, and forcing yourself to accept what you’ve been given. You’ve been given Sae Itoshi. Millions would kill to be you. But sometimes it feels like another prison, another box.

So you cried. You cried the tears you’ve kept inside, the tears the rain has acquainted with.

They blossomed into quiet sobs. Thunder drummed out again. You hiccuped, “I just don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know…I dunno…” you started to slur.

You were so close to Rin, he could feel your body vibrate with tears. He could feel it inside of him, behind his ribcage. Your tears were the rain; they were speaking to him.

He leaned closer to you, whispering, “Me neither.”

—-----

Things were supposed to mend after the Itoshi game night, but they only got worse. For you, at least. Everyone seemed to be in higher spirits, seemed to be closer, but you only wanted to distance yourself more.

Perhaps it was fear, or truly a deep truth, that made your feet run cold. 

Your wedding signified a turn: it signified truth, humility, reality. It meant settling. It meant your life was ending and beginning again all at once. It meant that above all, this is what you really wanted.

The closer it got, the less of a fairytale it became. The person you were when you touched down in Japan, when you set foot in that house, had long been buried in the closet with your other skeletons. What was left was a woman scared of the dark, of the unknown, sleeping next to it itself.

You jumped awake. Wet with sweat, gasping for air. Your head was spinning, soon thereafter aching.

The air conditioning was off. The clocks were stuck in time. The power was out again.

Sae was still fast asleep. You felt his skin, cool to the touch. Such a distant feeling.

You wanted to crawl under his arms, to find comfort in his touch, to find the warmth that paints his hair rosy and his skin tan. But you crawled out of bed, maybe because you were scared of what you would find. 

It was raining outside, which seemed to be the norm, at that point. This time, it seemed to cloud you, rather than giving you clarity. You were just walking through the house, maybe looking for the fuse box, or looking for that clarity. Whatever your heart wanted, it led you down the west wing, past a line of closed doors.

Risu and Yasuo sleep at the very back of the house, so when you heard faint voices on the other side of a door in the middle of the hall, you knew it wasn’t them. 

You laid three knocks on the door, your other hand preemptively on the knob. No response; so you slowly peeled the door open. It creaked quietly. The rain beat out the sound.

The room was covered in windows, all painted with raindrops. The ground was wood, with grass and moss peeking between the panels. Rows of plants filled the room: from bright plumerias to budding succulents to monstrous leafy plants. It was a greenhouse attached to the main property, a part that you’ve somehow gone this long without noticing.

It was fresh in that room, slightly humid but, somehow, simultaneously cool. You closed your eyes as you slowly wandered through, breathing deeply.

“What the hell are you doing?”

You yelped, your eyes shooting open. You seemed to have missed Rin, curled up in the window of the room. His bangs shielded his eyes, and his hoodie swallowed the rest of his face. You could only see him, just slightly, because the light from his tablet shone against his face.

“You’re barging into rooms unwelcomed again,” he said.

“I didn’t know anyone was in here, again,” you quipped, walking toward him. “I didn’t even know this was a room that existed here.”

“So, you’re just exploring in the middle of the night?”

“Couldn’t sleep. The power’s out.”

“Oh,” he nodded.

You welcomed yourself to sit beside him on the bench, keeping a well gap between you. He only spared you a glance as you sat facing him. “What about you?” You asked, twiddling your fingers. “Why’re you up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged. 

The two of you steeped in the quiet for a moment. Your eyes darted around the dim room before finally landing on his tablet. It was unclear what he was watching, but you inferred some game footage. You saw the cleats firm in the dirt, his wild mess of dark hair.

You opened your mouth to speak but, surprisingly, Rin beat you to it: “This is my mom’s green room. When I was little, and Dad would take me and Sae to the backyard to play, you could see her through the windows, watering her plants. I used to think she loved them more than us, than me, because she never looked more happy than she did when she was here.”

“Oh,” you swallowed, “I’m sorry.”

“I come in here to find what she had. It feels like I’m missing something…”

This time, you offered a dry laugh, “You’re missing your brother, Rin.”

He scoffed. You continued, “You’re so alike in that way: so full of pride, you’ll preserve your dignity before you’ll be honest. You leave yourself and so many others lonely that way.”

Another long beat of silence ebbed by. Then Rin finally turned to look at you, right in the eyes, as he asked, “Do you actually want to marry Sae?”

The look on your face betrayed what you wanted to say. But you said it anyway, because maybe hearing it out loud could convince him, maybe even you. “Yes. I love him, very much,” you said quietly. “But…” you started, tilting your head, “I don’t know if now is the time. Or if this is the way I want it.”

“My parents are scaring you off,” he laughed. “Typical. Don’t let anyone else hear you say that.”

“I know. I’m horrible.”

“Not that,” he replied quickly, then cleared his throat. “...It’s not that you’re..horrible… it’s that…it means that Sae failed. It means both Itoshi sons are failures, and that my parents have failed, and everything was in vain.”

You shook your head. Now, it was your turn to look him in the eyes, even though he tried his hardest to avoid your gaze. “You’re not a failure, Rin. You’re really not.”

“I am.” His voice was much sharper, “I’m such a worthless piece of shit; I can’t do anything right. I’m a disappointment. I have no future.”

“That’s not true—”

“Sae has always been better than me. Sae has always been held over my head. Sae has everything; Sae has you. I have nothing.”

Instinctively, you reached out to him. Your hand cupped his—the first thing you noticed is how warm he was, how oddly soft his skin was—and you squeezed it tightly, reassuringly. “Rin,” you said seriously, your best attempt at grappling his attention. “You have me too. We’re family now, right?”

“It’s not the same,” he said, just barely above a whisper. He pulled his hand back and completely turned away from you.

At the same time, the power seemed to have kicked back on. A cooling mist rained down on the plants and landed slightly on your skin. You were cold again, still lost.

—-----

It’s hard to pinpoint when exactly you and Rin became friends. Maybe three months of forced proximity and two weeks of nightly trauma bonding just does that to people. It makes them friends.

He’s started to talk to you more, to linger more. But only when nobody is around. It seems to be a trait both brothers hold: they only truly exist at night. When nobody is around, when all is asleep and quiet, that’s when they shed that skin and come to life.

Or maybe that’s just an effect you have. Perhaps because you hide in the sun, and finally breathe in the rain.

It was nighttime, and it was drizzling. And you were smoking a cigarette, and Rin was with you. Both of your guilty pleasures in one bubble.

You were just existing around one another, a pastime you each have found solace in. It’s the way you and Sae originally connected, just finding each other in the silence. Finding your joint silence more bearable, more real, than anything you could ever say.

You ashed the cigarette under your shoe, wiping your nose. “Think ‘m gonna call it a night, Rinnie.”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“I know,” you grinned, “‘M just messing with you.”

He wasn’t humored. “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t be another person that’s against me.”

Your expression softened; he couldn’t bear to look at you. He also couldn’t hide the flush creeping across his face, the pure embarrassment. He doesn’t like to be weak—none of them do—and yet, he keeps finding himself open with you. 

“I could never be against you. Nobody can.”

“Contrary to my whole life,” he scoffed. “...You’re the only person who doesn’t talk shit to me. You don’t hate me, even though I’m very hateable—”

“You’re not hateable, Rin—”

He went silent: an admission of defeat. And he still refused to look you in the eyes, his gaze wandering across your face. 

He looked a little sadder than usual. His quiet was inquisitive; it was evident that something was swarming his head. You knew him well enough to know that you may never know his truth. You didn’t need to, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to.

“Rin,” you called. He was hesitant to look you in the eyes, but he soon gave in. You smiled softly, reassuringly, “You’re not alone, not as long as I’m around. ‘Kay? You’re my family now—”

“I don’t want you to be my family…”

“What?”

The wind picked up. Rain started to come down a little harder, smacking against the ground with everlasting echoes. Under the overhang of the roof, you two were partially protected as the wind whipped droplets around.

Risu mentioned one night, as you were doing the dishes, that “all this rain means something bad has happened, or something bad is coming.” She turned the sink off, then looked at you, her expression uncomfortably serious. “Here’s hoping it’s not your wedding.”

Maybe it wasn’t the wedding, but it was your being there. It was you and Sae, moving so fast yet so slow, loving hastily and uncertainly. Maybe it was the Itoshis and all their imperfections—maybe it’s their sons.

Because with the way Rin was looking at you, and the goosebumps that raised underneath your clothes, the rain seemed to pour harder. Your heart seemed to quicken, but you weren’t nervous. It was like the first time Sae kissed you: he’d taken you home after your date, standing on the steps of your apartment complex. It was raining and you forgot an umbrella—he’d given you his jacket, but some rain knocked against your face anyway. He wiped the droplets off your cheek, and then he asked you lowly, “Is it alright if I kiss you?”

And you leaned into his touch, and that was his affirmation. He leaned forward, tenderly connecting his lips to yours. It was almost as if he was scared. That hesitation died when you kissed him back, when you confirmed that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

You took a step back, slowly opening your eyes. And it was Rin—you were kissing Rin, he was kissing you. Just as timidly, as vulnerably as Sae did.

His lips were glossed in your shared spit, but the gloss of his eyes seemed to be tears, fraught to fall. Just sitting there atop those seaglass greens, promising fear, weakness.

He was scared; you were too. When you looked at each other, you saw two different demons, but they went by the same name.

Thunder drummed out to the beat of your heart. Lightning struck; your hands were grabbing Rin’s head, pulling him to you, kissing him with the same fervor the rain poured in.

He was stiff but soon melted into your touch. His hands held your hips. Slowly, as your kiss developed into a tempered pace, they slithered up your body. When he got to your arms, a bout of strength overcame him—or perhaps, it was desire, capturing your arms in a tight grip, pulling the limbs over your head as he pushed you against the side of the house. 

You whimpered into the kiss, your mouth temporarily slack for his tongue to explore and dominate. His knee found its way lodged between your thighs, just shy of pressing against your heat. 

The sky rumbled deeply. You were making a mistake; the earth was to pay for your wreckage.

But in that moment, the warmth between your bodies defeated the cold of the rain, and it defeated the fear in your heart. It felt good, it was a high that consumed you, that chewed away at your morality. You chased that high, against all better judgement: you rolled your body up to Rin’s, swallowing his faint grunt deep into your depths.

Lightning whizzed through the sky. You swore you could feel the electricity under your skin, crawling in your veins. 

It was the light in the darkness, the triumph against the doubt swirling inside you.

You kept kissing him, because it was the only thing you’d done in months that felt right.

—-----

The silk gown you’re in was too pure for your skin. It’s custom: carefully dyed the perfect teal to match Sae’s eyes, perfectly fit to your frame, precisely beaded around the waistline with aquamarines. 

It had to be perfect; it had to be stunning. Today is the day: four months of waiting, just for this dinner, for the prelude to your union with Sae.

Risu paid a pretty penny for a glam team to come to the house and prepare you for tonight. Shimmer painted on your eyes and high points, false lashes glued to your eyes, muted coral rouged your dry lips. Hands in your hair, combing and pinning and curling and spritzing. You were supposed to feel like a princess, but you felt more like a doll than anything. 

You were in the living room getting glammed, clad in a white robe, embroidered, branded with Mrs Itoshi. Rin had walked past, heading to the kitchen. You caught his eye; his attention lingered. You both tried to break fast, but Risu caught it.

“Doesn’t she look nice, Rin?” Risu grinned.

He hesitated to answer. His eyes were fixed on you, but you stared at the floor. You hadn’t been able to look at him since that night. 

“Yeah,” he said, “pretty.”

That was supposed to make you feel better, but it only made you sicker to your stomach. “Thanks,” you muttered, still avoiding him.

Risu followed after him, her rollers clacking with her pace. “Rin, your father has your suit…”

And she held onto your gown. You weren’t to put it on until you arrived at the venue, until now. In a green room covered in mirrors, in your reflection, in your perfect imperfection. 

She comes into view behind you, a grin and box in tow. She passes it off to you with a nod, “Open it,” she urged.

Inside the box is an elegant, delicate diamond choker, the pendant a blinding star shape. Your mouth drops agape—not in awe, but in surprise, gearing up a bunch of sputtery refusals. “Risu, I—”

“You will,” she said, peeling it out of the box. “It’s been passed down to all the women of my family. I always wanted a daughter…” She unhooks the necklace, bringing it around your throat. The feeling of her fingers against your nape makes you stiffen, holding your breath tightly in your gut. She clasped it with a soft clink, peering over your shoulder proudly. “Now, I have one.”

“Risu…”

“No need to thank me, sweetie. We’re family. You making my baby boy happy is all thanks I need,” She says, pinching your cheek. She holds her hand out to you to hold, her other picking up her clutch, “Shall we?”

You don’t have a choice. There is no more waiting, no more postponing, weighing your options. Tomorrow, you will marry Sae Itoshi. Tonight, you will meet his family, smile for pictures, and say goodbye to the life you once knew. 

Risu opened the door, and you stepped out into the banquet hall behind her, your nerves sinking into your stomach. Itoshis filled every corner of the room, old and young, all unfamiliar. 

You saw Yasuo and Rin at the head of the room, beside the sole photographer. You and Sae didn’t want the press, but Yasuo was in cahoots with Girolan and allowed one publication to be invited to this dinner, to see the bride and groom before the I dos. 

Sae appears to your right, dapper in a white suit, his hair brushed out of his face. His face was blotted and powdered, his lashes fanned. Risu’s glam team had gotten to him, much less aggressively than they’d gotten you. 

“Hi beautiful,” he whispers, “my Aunt Yukino wants to meet you.”

You look over his shoulder, and a tall woman with strawberry hair meets your look expectantly. She looks just like Yasuo—just as mean and knowing. 

You swallow, pulling a smile as convincingly as you can. “And so it begins,” you say, looping arms with him. 

“And so it begins,” he reiterates, just as exasperated.

Risu pats you on the shoulder, “I’ll leave you to it, lovebirds. Yuki’s a loudmouth; don’t let her hog you, and don’t let her pry!”

And so it begins: the cheering, the hugging, the parading. Aunt Yukino throws her hands high before wrapping them around you, shoving Sae out of the way. She squeals as she rocks you back and forth, “You’re beautiful! Sae, she’s stunning! Where’d you find her?”

And so it begins: the storytelling, the repeating, the game of it all.

“I was interning on Re Al’s medic team before my residency,” you say, pulling yourself out of her hold. “I didn’t really get to know Sae until I was leaving. The team wanted to take me out to celebrate my acceptance, but I’m not a clubber. Neither is Sae—we bonded that night over being the only sober, sensical people there.”

The laughter. Not really humored, but not completely fake. Just a sound to ease the tension, to make the interaction less awkward.

“That’s too cute!” Aunt Yukino laughs. Then, she turns to Sae, perching a hand on her hip, “You’ve been hiding her from us for that long?”

He shakes his head, dispelling her claim. “We didn’t start dating until two years ago.”

“Two years is still a long time,”

“We wanted to keep things private,” you say, an attempt to feed her appetite. “You know how the public can be, how Sae’s fans can be. I don’t even want to be famous…”

Aunt Yukino raises a brow. She looks over her shoulder, toward her brother, toward the cameraman. “And what about now? Still don’t wanna be famous?”

Your smile, your shield, wavers. You lean into Sae, almost like you’re trying to melt into his skin. 

“That’s all Dad,” Sae answers bluntly. “If it were up to me, they wouldn’t be here at all.”

“We know how much you hate the media, Sae-chan,” Yukino snorts.

“Speaking of, we should probably go entertain them before they get antsy.”

Sae nods, pushing you away as Yukino attempts to object. You laugh awkwardly, “We have a long night ahead of us.”

“Courtesy of my parents, of course,” Sae whispers, looping his arm seamlessly into yours. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m grateful. I’m happy.”

Sae looks at you, his low eyes scanning your face. You look uncomfortable under that smile you wear—you’ve never been good at hiding your feelings. He’s been good at reading you, that’s how he got to know you, that’s how you got here. And you’re hiding something under that grin that has his chest tight, because you’re not happy; he’s not done right by you.

“If you’re happy, I’m happy,” he says, pulling you closer. “You’d tell me if something’s wrong, right?”

You stop in your tracks. “Nothing’s wrong, Sae.”

“Okay…”

Flash. Flash. Flash. 

Look to your right; smile! Up, slightly, to the left; smile! Flash, flash, flash.

The Itoshis and their extended family cheer and gather around you, urging poses, urging your smile. So many damn pictures—pictures to cement the moment in time, but you’re not even living the moment. Your face is dewy with sweat, your eyes are starting to hurt from the bright lights just shining in your eyes, your head is starting to throb from all the squealing and yelling and music. It’s tiring: acting all the time. But you have to keep it up. Happy wife, happy life, so they say.

Yasuo plucks champagne glasses off a tray, handing them to you and Sae as you finally wriggle away from the photographer. You sigh out a thank you, immediately taking a generous gulp.

“Oh my goodness, that ring! It’s beautiful,” A woman notes, a distant cousin, no doubt.

You trade hands that hold the glass, flexing your fingers straight. She gets closer, grabbing your hand. “That is stunning…you have a good eye, Sae.”

“Thank you.”

“He gets it from me,” Yasuo charms, winking. 

The small group around you falls into monotonous laughter. Sae rolls his eyes. You hide your uneasy grin behind another generous sip.

“How’d you know that was the one, Sae?” Another voice asks. “The ring, I mean.”

He weighs his head back and forth, shrugging a shoulder. “It looks like her eyes.”

And the group fell into a chorus of awww’s. You have to play up the flattered expression, but you’re starting to feel sick to your stomach. It’s the guilt: it’s watering your eyes, flushing your skin. 

“Now, we need to know how he proposed!”

“Yeah!” 

“I wonder if you’re just as romantic as you seem, Sae-chan.”

“Well…” you begin. You were on vacation; Sae had taken you to Saint-Tropez to celebrate you finishing your residency, and you were spending days on the beach, lounging under the sun with mango daiquiris. It was on day nine of your trip, your final day, before your flight back home the next morning. He’d taken you to this beautiful restaurant, sprung for the rooftop seats, where the fairy lights competed with the stars, and the companionship was low. You ate, laughed and talked as you usually did, when the staff rolled out a cart of champagne. Sae popped the bottle, filled your glasses, and then he asked you,

“Would you want to marry me?”

You almost choked on your champagne. But then you softened, and you nodded. “I definitely think about it,” you said, “You, as my husband, me, your wife.”

“No,” he shook his head, and then he nodded forward. You looked down and he held the velvet box open on the table, the beautiful stones shining like the stars. “Will you marry me?”

And the group coos again, clapping and talking among themselves. 

And then you were telling the story, again and again and again. And they wanted to know how you met, so you told that story, again and again and again. And they wanted to know what it was like meeting his parents—why your parents weren’t there, and Sae had to intervene, again and again and again. 

Your mouth is getting dry, and you keep lubricating it with demure sips of champagne, silently hoping that at some point, the buzz will override your brain and you can coast through this night easily. The alcohol only seems to swell in your chest and sit there, and taunt you, guilt you. 

You wonder if it’s raining right now. 

Sae’s arm is glued around your waist. You finally get a chance to breathe when he guides you to the table, pulls out your chair, and helps you sit. He sits beside you, to your right. Risu is to your left, Yasuo beside her, Rin beside him. It’s the first time you’ve seen the brothers beside each other since you met Rin. It’s the first time you’ve seen him all evening. You still avoid looking at him.

Waitstaff drop off plates of bougie supper, and Yasuo stands, clearing his throat. Another staffer scurries out of the dark, bringing a microphone to your father-in-law. 

He taps the head, “Is this thing on?” 

The room laughs at him. You nervously follow along, helping yourself to more champagne.

“Alright; good evening, everybody! Thank you all for coming out to see my son and my beautiful daughter-in-law-to-be; we appreciate it more than you know. Risu has put in real blood, sweat, and tears planning this dinner and the ceremony tomorrow, so make sure you give my lovely wife your gratitude.” Yasuo begins, positioning himself to face his family. “I’ll make this brief—Sae doesn’t like when I talk too much ‘n get all sappy. I just want to toast to this beautiful couple: I wish you love, life, and a whole lot of sunshine. There’s been a lot of rain, a lot of cleansing happening, and I can only take that as a purification for this sanctified, sweet union. I’ve watched Sae grow into a beast, I raised him that way, but now I can sit back and watch him be a man. A man in love, a man with love, all thanks to this lovely young lady right here. May your marriage last, ‘til death do you part!”

The room echoes his sentiment, a sea of glasses high in the air. Your hand shakes as you follow suit.

“Now,” Yasuo walks around the table, slotting the microphone in your face. Your eyes go wide. “A word from the bride?”

“I—” you look around, expectant eyes watching you. It’s a trait of every Itoshi: those beady eyes, that scrutinize and expect of you.

Risu nods, wordlessly urging you to go on. 

You take down the rest of your champagne before you stand, letting Sae hold your shaking hand. You clear your throat, “Hi everyone…I– I am beyo—”

Rin catches your eye. Across from you at the table, looking dejected and stormy. For the first time in weeks, you look him in the eyes. As soon as you do, you feel his lips against yours, his hands on your skin.

You tear your hand from Sae’s, dropping the mic. “I’m sorry,” you whimper before darting out of the room.

It’s a maze of tables, a labyrinth of murmurs and stares. You feel the guilt chasing you, the terror of forever quick on its heels. It’s beyond feeling guilty for kissing Rin, it’s guilty for bringing Sae all the way here, all the way to nothing—

He calls your name. So softly, so concerned, just beneath the buzz of the local night. He comes behind you, a hand on your shoulder, “What’s wrong?”

You hesitate to look at him. 

But you do. And you completely fall apart; the tears are far too many to keep at bay. “Sae, I—” you choke, stepping away from him. You look down at his shoes, scared to look him in the face as you say, “I kissed Rin.”

“You did what?”

It’s not Sae who asks you; it’s Yasuo. He and Risu have just stepped out of the building, onto the sidewalk, into your admission with a furrowed expression.

In a matter of seconds, Risu has launched toward you, her hand cocked high and whipping against your face with a deafening crack. “You little bitch!” She spits, grabbing you by the throat. “I let you into my home, I gave you everything!—Sae has given you—”

Yasuo is tugging his wife off you, Sae wedging his way in between you with repeated begs for his mother to stop. She thrashes in her husband’s hold, still cursing your existence.

You cough into your hand, the other caressing where Risu held you. The tears still spill, and you swear you’re slowly dying. Your lungs are trying their hardest, but all you can do is wheeze. 

“He..kissed me, and I…” you heave, slowly looking back up at Sae. His expression is so broken; you break further, your words a jumble of tears and cracks. “I didn’t stop him. I kissed him back– I’m so sorry, Sae…!”

And then—

“You.” Yasuo grits. 

Rin has stepped outside, unknowingly into the lion’s den. His father releases his mother and stomps toward him in three grand strides, grabbing him up by his suit and pushing him against the wall. “Why did you do this, Rin? Why?! You’ve always been jealous of your brother, always tried taking what he has, but this—”

“Stop it!” Sae exclaims. It’s the loudest he’s ever been, the sternest he’s ever been. “Dad, let him go. Let him go!”

Yasuo doesn’t want to release Rin, but he does anyway. Risu rushes to grab her husband’s hand, to stand as a united, angry front before you.

But that doesn’t matter.

Sae turns to you, his brows flipped and soft, his eyes glossy. He’s never looked so pathetic—he’s never felt it, either. He loves you that much. “Do you..do you still want to marry me?” He asked, voice flat, but almost childlike.

The tears run down your face, searing hot. You bite your shaking lip, shaking your head slowly. “...No, Sae,” you admit. Everyone’s face falls. You feel your heart in your ass. “Not like this.”

He closes his eyes, but the tears fall anyway. Two clean streaks down his fiery cheeks. He just nods his head before turning on his heels and walking away, disappearing into the building.

You let out a sob, covering your face with your hands. 

Risu walks up to you, her hand creeping up to your neck again. She tears the choker from around your neck, her face in a disgusted grimace. “We’re going to go in there and clean up your mess. In the meantime, you’re going to go and pack your things and get the fuck out of my house. I want it like you were never even there. You mean nothing to us anymore.”

Yasuo stands behind his wife, a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You broke my son's heart. You’ve disappointed me.”

He doesn’t even say anything to Rin. 

Nobody has anything to say anymore—but the sky, it thunders. It promises another cleanse, but the damage is done.

—-----

You rode back to the Itoshi house in a humiliating rideshare. The driver kept sneaking glances at you through the rearview mirror, and you didn’t even want to know how bad you looked to him. He muttered, “Have a better night…” as you got out of the car. You slammed the door.

And now, you cry as you stuff your bags with all of your things. It’s terrible. All of the memories you’ve made in the last four months, all of it worth nothing in the blink of an eye.

You sit beside the bed for a moment, bawling your eyes out as you twist the engagement ring back and forth around your finger. You hated the cut, you hated the ring, but you loved Sae. You love him, but it isn’t enough. You don’t remember the last time your happiness came from your heart, and you didn’t have to tell your brain that that’s how you felt. 

The ring is left on the bed. On the pillow, where your head has lain every night, kissing and talking Sae to sleep.

It’s terrible.

You lug your suitcases and carry-ons tragically out of the room, in a slow, uncoordinated crawl. The silence of the house lets the downpour echo deep in your heart; it tells you that you’re not alone, and you’re not.

Rin is here.

He stands at the head of the hallway, his body fluttering around his heavy breaths.

You stop in your tracks. Your chest immediately feels tighter. “No…” You whimper, “Please don't, Rin. Don’t do this to me, please.”

“How am I going to live here without you?”

“Rin—”

He walks toward you. Light is faint in the hallway. You can scarcely see his features drawn in the moonlight. And he’s so close, you can smell him. Peace: rain and wood and sweat and desperation. 

“They don’t want me here, not anymore.”

“You can’t come with me…”

You don’t know where you’re going. He has no business being with you. He doesn’t deserve that. He doesn’t deserve you.

“I can’t. But I want to.”

“You don’t mean that, Rin. You don’t want me.”

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“No, I’m not. I’m everything Sae had—”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

His voice is low, a small crack breaking through his admission. And he comes closer. You breathe each other in. You breathe in that weakness, that humility, that fear. 

You drop your bags. Before it can consume you, you consume it; Rin kisses you, just as fearfully as before, and you kiss him back, just as stupidly as before. 

The rain has picked up outside. As it washes the trails of your sin away, you let it bed deep inside you. It’s not right, but nothing ever is. At the very least, the downpour whispers in your ears, or maybe it’s Rin, to let it all go.

That’s all that lingers in your heart: the need to let it all go, everything, and begin again when the sun begins to shine.

[aeselion]

i hope that holds you over for now ^^ i have two looonggg fics in the works for both hsr and bllk! but it is almost 4 am so im gonna try and catch some sleep before i have to get up.. au revoir ♡

[aeselion]

okay i’m actually getting to work now…..i’ve been high and sleeping so much lately….. but i feel the urge to word vomit. Beware

[aeselion]

making really good progress....hopefully you'll all see it by the end of this week...🫣🫣🤍

[luxfuxxvii]

not now kitten. daddy only planned the first half of his wip, and now he has to figure out what the fuck to do for the other half.

[aeselion]

i saw leviticus on friday and have been sick ever since. i can’t stop thinking about that goddamn movie

[aeselion]

i hope that holds you over for now ^^ i have two looonggg fics in the works for both hsr and bllk! but it is almost 4 am so im gonna try and catch some sleep before i have to get up.. au revoir ♡

[aeselion]

okay i’m actually getting to work now…..i’ve been high and sleeping so much lately….. but i feel the urge to word vomit. Beware

[aeselion]

i hope that holds you over for now ^^ i have two looonggg fics in the works for both hsr and bllk! but it is almost 4 am so im gonna try and catch some sleep before i have to get up.. au revoir ♡

[aeselion]

𐔌 ROCKET ‘TIL WATERFALLS ོ𑁬

. . . the sun sets another day, but your love prevails through the night.

WARNINGS ── fem!reader 、established relationship 、(it’s their wedding night) 、phainon whimpers & whines 、literally nothing else i wrote this off vibes 、MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

SUPERNOTE ── finals are taking me out and i just. Phainon i wish u were real to fuck my brains out. i’m so tired of thinking. (nonsense drabble just to feed the dash - might delete/private later)

WORD COUNT ── 948

BACK ARCHED INTO THE curve of a sinking sun, limbs taut like soaring stars, mouth hooting a broken chorus of pleased oh’s: the fruits of a steep, uphill battle laboring sweetly around your peak, promising the kiss of release so divinely, you weep beneath its embrace. At the behest of a scarred challenger, your pleasure is pieced like a puzzle, with analytical precision pushing you to the sweet, sunny peak — he’s been climbing, and climbing, and climbing, his hands now finally finding purchase on pebbled bosoms, exalting him to his divine right at the summit of chronicled games.

And it is he, only he, who can enjoy those fruits to their fullest potential. Pulling the skin from the flesh with a guttural groan, head sinking back on his shoulders, eyes rolling shakily. The taste of Heaven lingers over his tongue as he spits it unto you: tangy with sweat, sweet with ardor, heavy with passion. A mix of flavors only Phainon, the master climber, can achieve.

The moon pulls to cast over you, a lunar chill running over you in place of his solar warmth. Your bed, carved in pure, Kremnoan gold, roped in tendrils of leafy vines, creaks and rocks under you. Its squeals mirror yours, fleeting yet persistent, music to wake the night.

Phainon, the divine ruler of the heavens and hells, and all the mountains in between, trembles above you. He needs not say a word to tell you the truth, that crystalline glare has the words written in it. You push at the back of his neck, urging him closer, just to hug him, to feel the quakes in his muscles and the beat of his heart. Feeling it just to know that it’s because of you, and giving him the confirmation that it’s settled deep within you, too.

Those knitted brows and agape mouth are the only things you can make out through teary, starry eyes. It tells you why he’s stopped thrusting and just grinds on top of you, rutting deeply, roughly against you. Why it feels like your stomach is full of fireworks and their fuses are slowly kindling, and the smoke is slowly snuffing out your breath. You can't breathe, only gasp, clutching so tightly that your nails are rehoming in his shoulders.

You're speechless. Your eyes are blank; you can only see on the blacks of your heavy eyes. Fleeting glimpses of your day, of the last few years of your life, of what waits to come flicker in your head. You're grinning, so sickly and sloppily. There's nowhere else you'd rather be.

The two of you hold each other so closely, so tightly. There must be bits of your skin that are fusing by your sweat. Everything sticky, warm, wet, like a rebirth clogging your lungs and slithering through and out of you. You press your foreheads together, exhale and inhale each other so close.

Phainon’s voice cracks the second he tries to speak. “I'm so in love with you—” he squeaks, “I want to love you forever..”

You hold him tighter. Your legs are jelly around his waist but they keep him flush to you. Friction rubs at your clit, just the slightest tingling that births lightning bolts under your skin.

Your throat is so dry and tight but you huff anyway, “Don’t stop, Phai,” all groggily and hoarse.

He holds you down as his hips just grind against you. The movements are stuttery and slow, in tandem with the long drawn groan that surfs out. It decrescendoes into a feeble whine, and he buries his head into the crook of your neck, murmuring and whimpering against your damp skin. His messy head of hair rubs against your chin, like a dog nuzzling into you.

His sounds dance around in your stomach; your walls contract to the beat. “Oh, fuck,” he whines, muffled, “I'm gonna cum—my love, fuck—”

He seizes in your arms, his cock twitching inside of you. He breathes so gruffly and heavily against you as his arms jelly and he just lies on top of you, sandwiching you between him and the mattress. He's so heavy—you can feel the air pressing out of you.

Your eyes roll and your mouth hangs open. Your hips jump and your limbs vibrate. It feels like death is taking you; this must be Heaven.

You orgasm seconds after Phainon, a wisp of bated breath separating you. He hisses and winces and whimpers all at once, all directly to your core, all a show of vulnerability and transparency. A man so precious—sculpted like a god yet pliable like putty—is all yours, until death do you part, and then some.

Even as your brains slither out of your head and you're too far on cloud nine to think, he whispers to you. The vows you heard only a few hours ago; the promises to split the sky and pull the stars down for you, to carry your troubles for you and shoulder the weight of the world, just to keep you smiling forever. And if there ever came a time where you couldn't stand him, he'd do what he must, because your pain hurts him more than your absence.

How lucky he is to have a wife, who only looks better and better as the seconds pass, who cares for him at his rawest. You died and came back to life in your pleasure; he would kill and resurrect you again and again if you kept looking at him like that.

If he could be the center of your universe, and you his, you’d birth a new world together, where love is the only language spoken. He's fluent in you.

[aeselion]

will spread my wings have more parts😪😪😪😪

unfortunately no 😞 i definitely was thinkin abt it but i think it’s fine where it is!

[aeselion]

hello everyone. finals week & everything completely took me out but i am back and will be feeding you all soon ♡

[aeselion]

favourite song at the moment? 👀👀 putmeon

i’m one of those people who can’t just have one so here’s a list of what i have on repeattttt lately

gas station & dance… by slayyyter, crumbs by rebecca black, deathbydevotion by adéla, and drums of death by fka twigs !! <3

[aeselion]

7 drafts & counting….Im working y’all i really am

[aeselion]

10 drafts but 1 is finally getting touched….this writers block will be broken!!! hopefully i’ll have something(s) by the end of may <3

[aeselion]

DID U GET TOMADACHI LIFE 🥹

nooo omgsh but i really want to 😞😞 unfortunately $60 for it is not in my budget but im gonna get it soon!!! i played the demo and added rin and isagi and almost passed out i was having so much fun.

i'll definitely be shooting for it after i finish my amphoreus themed island on animal crossing so i can cancel my nintendo online 😭

[aeselion]

playing through 4.1….ashveil….buzzy af 😵‍💫😵‍💫

[aeselion]

little brother alexis ness who’s so anxious and unnerved all the time. he can’t even sleep at night, not unless it’s in his big sister’s bed, in her arms, where the world seems to stop for a moment and he can breathe. you have a spell cast on him and he’s enamored with you—you are the only thing that gives him reprieve.

it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve woken in the middle of the night to him whimpering and panting, but it’s the first time that his body sits on top of you, and his hips rut against you. you stir and immediately catch his face gnarled in pleasure and you try to push him back, stumbling over questions and protests. but he’s athletic, he’s strong, much more than you, surprisingly so. he just hugs around you, trapping you beneath him, whimpering. “i’m sorry,” he sniffles “m’sorry…i’m so, so sorry. please forgive me, i’m sorry.”

[aeselion]

11:01 in madrid. terribly loud, crude music dances in his bones. he can feel every part of him so intimately— the steps he takes, the nasty sweaty bodies and cheap fabrics rubbing against him, the eyes zeroing on him. in the midst, disappearing when the overstimulating colorful strobe flashes black, you exist. left hand wrapped around a sweaty cup, right hand drawing a spell in the air. face glowing in glittery makeup and sweat: lips strawberry glossed, eyes hypnotic with a hot pink blending into deep purple, cheeks lifted and ripened with pink highlighter. he’s unable to look away; he feels so magnetized, so intrigued by the picturesque, artistic vision just that far away from him. the sea of bodies runs far but he wades through awkwardly, stiffly, a slight inclination to jive to the beat meeting an aversion toward touching another sweaty loser. but you come toward him, too, slowly, like you’re beckoning him. is he high? he feels like he must’ve drunken too much, or accidentally ate something laced—this is out of body but inner soul, an attraction so weirdly magnetic. like he just has to get near you, just to say he saw heaven once.

11:07 in madrid. you’re real. you touch him first: you hinge your arms around his neck, swinging your hips towards him. you part the thick sea and sweep him ashore, and give him the kiss of life. you’re feeling daring tonight, you want to be bold, and do something so new, so exciting. he wears the smears of your kiss when you pull back. when his face is pursed up in a jumbled furrow of emotions— “who the hell are you?” he asks, stepping back from you.

11:09 in madrid. bunny draws near. he’s infuriating, you want to turn him inside out, and leave him high and dry. make him watch as you shed your inhibitions and fuck the brains out of his competition, his obsession. the annoyingly independent, yet so naïve fresh meat. the prodigy; the golden boy. you get to sink into his flesh first, desecrate him and greet the rawest parts of him. you get to find his limit, to show him things he’s never seen before, mold him into your little incubator of excellence and human nature. turn him out. you’re two snakes slivering toward the same fresh fruit, but you got there first. it makes it better that you got there first. he gets to watch your nurtured perversion take form over the most interesting erection he’s ever gotten. he stills, and watches from a distance.

11:11 in madrid. sae itoshi surprisingly leaves a shoddy club with a glamorous woman, a shiny diamond in the rough. bunny iglesias follows behind them shortly. they all get into the same car—bunny driving while the pair scoot into the back, sae being kissed reassuringly before he can even process. bunny meets his gaze in the rearview. the night only just begins.