Sukuna's Wife

university student | she/her | You can also find me on Quotev under the name "Sukuna's Wife" :)

[gohan1]

Toxic Love | Tokyo Revengers x female Reader

For as long as you can remember, you have been fortunate enough to have had all that you desired - a loving family, a safe home, supportive friends, and an above- average academic record. As a seventeen-year-old on the brink of completing high school and moving on to college, you have maintained a positive outlook on your future, characterized by diligence, intelligence, kindness, and a willingness to assist others. However, upon becoming entangled with the Tokyo Manji Gang, your life took an unexpected turn as they developed a disturbing infatuation with you. Will you be able to preserve your sanity in the face of this threat, or will you succumb to the depths of darkness that they present?

[gohan1]

[Chapter 36]

You were still trailing behind Koko and Inupi, watching the two of them banter about what the fortune teller might say. Koko, of course, had the wildest fantasies—ranging from being a long-lost prince to the most influential finance man in all of Japan. The switch made zero sense. But surprisingly, Inupi actually agreed with the finance idea, saying that one at least sounded somewhat realistic.

"The Prince of Profit, huh?" Inupi murmured with a half-smile, voice dry but teasing.

Koko threw a hand on his hip and tilted his chin up, like he was already being carved into a golden statue and displayed in front of the Bank of Japan.

You blinked at the sight. Maybe this wasn’t just some weird joke. Maybe it wasn’t random at all. Gangs need money. For bikes, hideouts, uniforms, intimidation, connections… whatever shady logistics keep that world running. You weren’t exactly an expert in underground economics, but it didn’t seem far-fetched that someone knows how to handle finances. Hell, Koko might be the walking ATM of Black Dragon. Or worse—the one actually pulling strings behind the scenes, dealing in shady business with other gangs to keep the cash flowing. You don’t even know yet that Ran and Rindo are just two of many who made secret deals with Koko years ago. Honestly, you should expect this, but maybe you are just trying to ignore the fact that Rindo is a hoodlum—the one who rules over Roppongi with his older brother.

Koko made deals that never reached the surface. Deals you wouldn’t hear about until much later—when everything started to fall apart. But for now, all you could do was watch him strike another smug pose beside Inupi, confidently talking about his financial fortune.

If only you knew how much that crown actually weighed...If you knew how Koko became so fixated on money in the first place. It didn’t start because he was greedy. It started because he was desperate. If you knew it all began because of a girl he loved—a girl who burned alive in her own home, reduced to ash. If you knew that he only stepped into the world of gangs because he wanted enough money for her treatment...And that now, even after all this time—after Akane Inui, Seishu Inui’s older sister and the supposed love of his life, was gone—he was still obsessed with money. Still chasing what he never got the chance to give. Would you really blame Kokonoi Hajime for the way he is, if you knew all of that?

Meanwhile, Toman—despite its size and influence—still met in front of a shrine. Mikey never cared about money. He once told you that he wanted to build a new era for delinquents. Something meaningful. Something bigger than turf wars and cash. So yeah, it made sense. Toman didn’t need gold-plated headquarters. It needed people who believed in something.

But Taiju? Yeah, he definitely seems like the type who wanted both fear and wealth wrapped around his fists. You still remembered how one of the first things he said was about having money for uniforms—cold, practical, intimidating. And… if you weren’t misremembering, he also told Koko to make more money. Like it was Koko’s job. No way was Black Dragon funding soup kitchens or helping kids pay rent. No—whatever money Koko gathered, it definitely wasn't going anywhere kind.

Still, the image of him striking a prince pose while Inupi rolled his eyes made you smile faintly.

"I'm wondering what the fortune teller might say about you, Inupi" Koko mused aloud, his voice light, his tone mischievous, as he tilted his head toward the sunflower blond-haired boy, with that usual glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. Inupi didn’t even glance at him at first. He kept walking, his hands in the pockets of his jacket, the pale strands of his hair brushing against the sides of his face with every step

"Probably that I end up working at a bike shop," he deadpanned.

That made Koko laugh out loud—a short, sharp sound that turned a few heads in the crowd. “Yeah, I could see that. You’re practically a professional already,” he said. Then he pressed his hands together and moved them apart in an arc, like he was drawing a rainbow. “Just imagine: the infamous Inupi—pro mechanic by day, gang member by night.”

You saw the corner of Inupi’s mouth twitch upward. “It’d make sense," he shrugged. "Not quite as exciting as being a prince, though," he added, a teasing edge in his voice.

Koko smirked, unfazed. “A prince of the streets, obviously. Rich, powerful, extremely stylish.” He flipped a hand through his hair dramatically. “Also, extremely humble.”

Inupi rolled his eyes. “You mean extremely delusional.”

Koko gave a theatrical gasp, stepping back as if Inupi had physically struck him. “Excuse me?!”

You trailed a few steps behind them. Their rhythm was strangely comforting—the way they bantered back and forth, like they'd done this a hundred times before. It felt natural. Familiar. Even when they argued, there was something easy about it. You watched the way Inupi subtly shifted his shoulder to nudge Koko when he got too dramatic, how Koko nudged back with the same energy. Their arguments never had any real bite. And despite their differences—Koko's flair for dramatics and Inupi’s cool, no-nonsense vibe—they seemed to meet in the middle without even trying.

You found yourself smiling again, unnoticed. It was the kind of dynamic that made you feel warm inside, just being near it. Then, almost in sync, both of them turned around and looked at you. Koko tilted his head, and Inupi glanced over his shoulder with his usual calm expression—but there was something almost sheepish in both their faces. Like they’d just remembered you were there.

“Shit, sorry,” Koko said with a slight grin. “Did we forget you were with us?”

Inupi raised an eyebrow at him. “You were the one talking nonstop.”

“Well, you were listening,” Koko retorted, then turned back to you. “So? What do you think the fortune teller’s gonna say about you?”

You shrugged, a little caught off guard by the question. “I don’t know. Probably something generic. Like... I’ll have success if I work hard? That kind of thing, probably.”

Koko hummed, eyes narrowed playfully. “That sounds like you’re hoping for a good one.”

You hesitated for a beat before answering, “Well, obviously. It’d be nice to hear something good, even if it’s just a random lady pulling cards for fun.”

You didn’t say it outright, but there was something heavy in your chest—something unspoken. Life hadn’t exactly gone easy on you. And no, you weren’t looking for magic or fate to fix it all, but… a little kindness, even in the form of a silly fortune, wouldn’t hurt. The mood softened, and for a brief moment, neither Koko nor Inupi had a snarky comment ready.

Then you saw it—the tent.

It stood at the end of the path like something straight out of a movie: deep purple fabric stretched over tall poles, with heavy velvet curtains rippling gently in the breeze. Strange ornaments dangled from the top corners—shapes that resembled stars, crescent moons, and little glass orbs filled with glittering dust that sparkled under the late afternoon sunlight. It looked even more theatrical up close—deep purple velvet walls embroidered with gold thread, and strange trinkets hanging from the awnings: feathers, bones, beads, and what looked like real fox skulls, bleached white by the sun. A string of paper lanterns stretched across the entrance, flickering gently in the breeze. The scent of incense and burning herbs clung to the air, carried by the wind.

A wooden sign out front, written in large brushstrokes, read:

Fortune Telling — 2000 Yen Per Person (One fate per visit. No refunds. No complaints.)

“2000Yen?...Okay, but really,” Koko said suddenly, turning slightly so he was walking sideways now, facing both you and Inupi. “If she doesn’t say I’m destined to be disgustingly rich, I’m asking for a refund.”

“She doesn’t do refunds,” Inupi reminded him, nodding toward the sign ahead.

"..."

“But yeah, it looks more like a traveling carnival than an actual tent,” Inupi said, eyeing the glittery decorations with a half-suspicious glance.

Still, people were lined up in front of the tent, their chatter a soft hum of excitement. You could hear snippets of conversation as people stepped out of the tent—laughing, gossiping, sharing whatever vague prophecies they’d just been told. Things like “She said I’ll find love this summer!” and “Apparently I’m destined to move abroad?”

You joined the end of the line with the other two close beside you. Before long, more people queued behind your group, trapping you squarely between Koko and Inupi. The line was long, but it moved at a steady pace. It gave you time to take in the scene. The soft glow of paper lanterns above the street had just started to come alive as dusk crept in, bathing everything in a golden-orange hue.

“This place smells like incense and sugar,” Koko muttered, crinkling his nose. “I bet she has, like, a crystal ball and speaks in rhymes or something,” he added.

“She probably just reads whatever the cards say and makes something up,” Inupi replied calmly. “People eat that up if it sounds deep enough.”

Koko leaned slightly toward you, smirking. “Imagine she pulls the death card for me and says I’m doomed.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Inupi said flatly.

You stifled a laugh. Their banter hadn’t lost momentum. But beneath it, you could feel it—that quiet curiosity all three of you shared. No one really believed in it, not seriously, but something about being told your future—even for fun—stirred something in everyone. Hope that maybe something good was coming.

Eventually, it was your group’s turn.

Inupi was the first to move, his hand brushing aside the heavy curtain hanging from the arched wooden frame. The fabric, thick with dust and perfumed with patchouli, gave a low rustle as it opened. A rush of incense-saturated air spilled out from within, clinging to your skin, your clothes, even the inside of your throat. You hesitated, half-choking on the floral-sweet musk, and caught Inupi’s fleeting wince—his nose wrinkled in distaste, mouth drawing into a thin line. Even Koko, for all his excitement, looked mildly bothered.

The room inside was dim and close, cloaked in a deep amber glow cast by flickering candles tucked into iron sconces along the walls. Shadows danced across faded tapestries that hung around the space like peeling wallpaper, stitched with strange celestial symbols you didn’t recognize. Beads of melted wax dotted the floor in tiny constellations. The only real furniture was a single round table draped in purple velvet, and three mismatched chairs—one for each of you.

Seated behind the table was a woman who looked like she’d been plucked from another time. Her shawl was layered, multicolored, beaded, draped like waves around her shoulders. Bangles clinked faintly as she moved, and her fingers were nearly lost under the weight of rings. Her face was worn with age—deep lines, papery skin—but her dark eyes were sharp, almost too alert.

She didn’t greet you. She didn’t smile. She didn’t speak.

Instead, she was shuffling her cards in slow, practiced motions. Her gaze never left them—until, without warning, it snapped up.

And landed directly on you.

The shift was immediate and chilling.

She froze. Her cards tumbled from her hands in a messy spill across the table, and her expression drained of all color. Her eyes widened in abject disbelief—then horror. Her entire posture changed, as if something had just struck her. The room felt colder suddenly. The low hum of voices from the line outside seemed to vanish. Even the candles seemed to flicker more violently, their flames bending toward her like drawn to her fear.

"You..." she whispered, barely audible. Her voice cracked like old wood. "You poor, cursed child..."

You blinked, stunned. Your heart stuttered in your chest, and beside you, Koko shifted awkwardly, his hand halfway to brushing back his bangs. Inupi tensed slightly, his arms crossed now, brows pinched in concern.

“Oh no… no, no,” the woman whispered again, and her hands began to shake. “I don’t want to see this. I don’t want to look at you.”

And then—she screamed.

The sound tore through the air like a siren—raw, guttural, full of terror. You flinched backward, chair legs screeching across the floor. Koko visibly jumped. Inupi, sharp-eyed and alert, looked seconds from stepping between you and the woman. She clutched her chest, gasping as if her own breath betrayed her. “I can’t—I won’t read your fate. I’m sorry, but I cannot see something so… so heavy.”

“I…” Your voice was hoarse, uncertain. “I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry?”

You had no idea why you were apologizing, but it slipped from you anyway. You could feel your stomach twist, a strange coldness crawling up your spine. You glanced toward Inupi and Koko, who were both watching you now. Not judging, not confused—just... quiet. Waiting.

“Maybe…” you said carefully, trying to steady your voice, “maybe you could still do their readings? They were looking forward to it.”

Koko clicked his tongue but didn’t argue. He leaned forward, brushing a loose lock of black hair behind his ear, and smirked at the fortune teller. “I better get my money’s worth, lady.”

Reluctantly, the woman nodded. She motioned toward the cards again, which Koko and Inupi now drew without comment. You sat in the middle, frozen between them, heart still hammering in your chest.

The woman placed Koko’s card down first and hovered her fingers above it.

“The King of Pentacles…” she murmured, eyes half-lidded. “You chase the gold with such hunger, you forget the warmth of the sun. Your eyes are too fixed on the coin in your hand… and when you finally look up, the thing you truly wanted will already be gone. Like water slipping through greedy fingers. Take care… riches rot when kept too long in the dark.”

Koko’s smirk faltered.

“…That’s it? I gave 2,000 yen for that?” he muttered under his breath, though he didn’t laugh. He leaned back, visibly unsettled. You didn’t blame him. That hadn’t sounded like vague entertainment—it sounded personal.

She turned to Inupi next.

“The Two of Swords,” she said softly. “You will come to a crossroads—two hearts laid bare before you, and only one path you may walk. Do not mistake the echo of the past for your future. The choice will not be easy… but it will define your joy, or your grief.”

Inupi blinked once, slow, but didn’t say anything. He simply nodded, jaw tightening slightly as he looked away.

You stood up last, eager to leave, but just as you turned to go—

Her hand shot out and grabbed your arm.

Her fingers wrapped around your wrist like a steel shackle. The weight of her grip wasn’t physical—it was emotional. Like something ancient, something knowing, had suddenly latched onto you. Her hand trembled. She looked into your eyes. And what you saw wasn’t just fear. It was grief.

“You…” she whispered, her voice raw, barely there. “You will lose yourself. Your soul… it’s already wandering. So much pain. So much betrayal. You’ll fall, deeper and deeper, until the darkness makes a home in you.”

You couldn’t breathe. Her voice cracked again, and tears welled in her eyes.

“I beg you… remember who you are. Even when everything burns.  You must find your way back to the light. Before it swallows you whole.”

She leaned forward as if trying to look into your future—and broke.

“I pray,” she whispered one last time, voice shaking, “I pray you find your joy. You deserve joy. You deserve peace.”

You couldn’t answer. Couldn’t move. A part of you wanted to cry. Another part wanted to laugh in disbelief. And yet, you only managed a tiny, brittle smile. “…Okay.”

Outside the tent, the world seemed louder again. Normal. But something felt off. Like the shadows hadn’t left you at all.

You, Koko, and Inupi stood in silence for several seconds. The streetlight above flickered once.

“Well…” Inupi said finally, voice flat as a flicker of worry clouded his eyes and lingered on you. “Maybe this wasn’t the best idea after all.”

“I’m fine,” you murmured.

But you weren’t.

Inupi didn’t argue. He just nodded once, like he understood and didn’t want to push it.

Koko stared at the ground, then scoffed under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck like he was trying to shake off the tension. “First time a fortune teller ever said something bad about me,” he muttered. “Guess I’m cursed now. I shouldn’t have stood next to [Name].”

He said it with a crooked smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. You let out a small laugh, though it felt a little empty.

Maybe it was just entertainment...But that fortune teller hadn’t looked like she was acting. She was crying for you. Not because of you. And that… that was a little harder to shake. Neither of them said it aloud, but you could feel it pressing into the brief silence between the three of you: that scream hadn’t been for show. That fear hadn’t been fake. And what she’d seen in you—whatever it was—it wasn’t a carnival trick.

Koko stepped closer, shoulders slouching a little, his voice low. “She grabbed you like she knew something.”

“I don’t even believe in that stuff,” you mumbled, though your voice was barely above a whisper. “It’s just… a scam, right?”

Neither of them answered.

Inupi leaned against the metal railing beside the tent, glancing down at your arm—the one she had grabbed. You followed his gaze. Her grip had left faint red marks, fingers curled around your wrist like a ghost still clinging.

“She looked at you like she was already mourning you,” Inupi said quietly, his voice a little more hesitant this time as he crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes—clear, sharp, almost too observant—didn’t leave your face.

Koko let out a breath through his nose, his expression more somber than usual. “She made it sound like your life’s gonna be… ugh. Hell,” he said, his tone laced with discomfort, like the word tasted bad on his tongue. “I mean, even I felt something.”

You nodded slowly, your arms tightening across your torso as though trying to hold something inside—keep it from spilling out. “Some bad things already happened to me,” you murmured, eyes downcast, the words small and uncertain. “But… nothing like that. Not enough to make someone cry over me.”

The admission settled into the air like fog. You hadn’t even realized how much it hurt until you said it.

Your breath hitched as you looked away, hugging yourself tighter. Your fingertips were numb from the cool air, and now you could feel it—your shoulders quivering, your heartbeat a little too fast. You were trembling. Not visibly, not enough for a stranger to notice—but enough for them to see.

“Alright, [Name], everything is fine…” you whispered under your breath, voice shaking, a quiet mantra meant to pull you back to reality. “There’s no way… I won’t experience that much pain. Mikey said he’d be there for me… he said—”

Your voice cracked at the end, going hollow. And you didn’t notice the look that passed over both Inupi and Koko—didn’t notice the way Inupi took a step toward you, cautious but protective, quietly calling your name.

“[Name]?” he said, gentle.

Koko blinked, clearly unsettled. “Wait—what did you just say?” He tilted his head slightly, his tone sharpening. “Did you say Mikey? As in Mikey from Toman?”

You startled a little, finally snapping out of it. “O-oh—yeah. I mean—he’s my frien—” You froze. Too late. Koko and Inupi immediately exchanged a glance.  But instead of questioning you, Inupi’s expression softened. He gave you a faint, reassuring smile. “You don’t have to be that guarded, you know,” he said. “Relax. We’re not gonna do anything to you.”

Then he added, with a slight downward quirk of his lips, “But yeah… it’s surprising. You really don’t look like someone who’d know him.”

Your brow creased. “What do you mean by that?”

“He means,” Koko cut in smoothly, “that it’s a little hard to picture a girl who looks like sunshine and rainbows being besties with the invincible Mikey."

You blinked. “Uh...thanks, Koko kun?” you said, unsure whether to be flattered or offended. “But yeah, we’re… close, actually.”

Koko leaned in with a teasing grin, nudging Inupi with his elbow. “Damn. Maybe we should deliver her to Taiju. She’s connected to Mikey—could use her as a bargaining chip.”

“U-Ugh...” you groaned instinctively, recoiling at the idea. But then you saw the grin pulling at Koko’s lips, the laugh rising from his chest. He was joking. Probably. Hopefully.

Koko chuckled, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Relax, I’m mostly kidding.”

“Mostly?” you repeated with a forced smile.

Inupi shook his head beside him, sighing, but his lips twitched upward. “You’re going to give her a complex, Koko.”

“Too late for that,” you muttered, but a small smile tugged at your mouth in spite of yourself.

You glanced back toward the fortune teller’s tent one last time, but the flap was closed now. Silent. As if none of it had ever happened.

What had she seen in you?

Whatever it was, it hadn’t been the full story.

Because you weren’t alone.

You have Mikey. And maybe—just maybe—you have other people, too. You weren’t drowning yet. You still had light. You still had people who would fight for you. No matter what those trembling, tarot-dusted hands had seen in that dim candlelight. No matter what ghosts of fate had clung to your skin. No matter how dark the road might get, or how heavy the silence that followed the fortune teller’s scream—

You weren’t going to let the shadows swallow you whole.

Not without a fight.

Even if—ironically—Mikey himself was the embodiment of that darkness.

Right?

—

[Author's note:  Hey everyone! I honestly had a lot of fun writing this chapter—even though it leaned a bit on the darker side. I just really love the dynamic between Inupi, Koko, and Reader. Inupi being all calm and composed (but secretly soft), Koko being his usual smug, dramatic self , and our sweet, polite and innocent Reader stuck in the middle—it’s just such a fun mix. And let me tell you… Reader caught between the Haitani brothers? That’s going to be even better😏]

[gohan1]

[Chapter 35]

How much luck could someone possibly have to not only run into one, but two of Taiju’s underlings? The man who nearly beat the life out of you for daring to say hitting his sister was wrong, and the other one—Inupi, the one who grabbed you back then and delivered you like some package to his boss. You still don’t know what the hell even motivated Taiju to try hurting you. It wasn’t like you had business with him. You don't even know him. You were just trying to stand up for someone who couldn’t. And yeah, maybe that was dumb. Maybe that was reckless. But it was also the right thing to do. Or at least, it felt like it at the time.

Maybe your mere existence, your audacity to speak up, was enough to anger him. You weren’t even confrontational—you had just said it wasn’t okay for him to treat his sister like that. You hadn’t raised your voice. Hadn’t stepped forward. But still, the rage had settled in his eyes like a stormcloud, and you were certain he had wanted to do more than slap you. And maybe he would have, if you hadn’t looked so pathetic. Maybe he spared you because he thought you weren’t worth the effort. 

You had been left unbruised—untouched—while Yuzuha had to endure every blow, every outburst of her older brother’s violence. And what truly haunted you wasn’t just the brutality of it—it was the fact that it came from her own flesh and blood. You honestly couldn’t imagine how anyone could survive that, not just the pain, but the betrayal woven into it.

In the end, you’d figured you’d never see any of them again. So much for that. It was already enough of a mental spin-out to run into Inupi again—in a shoe store, no less. He was now kneeling calmly, helping you pick out high heels that actually fit. Not judging. Not sneering. Just pointing out, with surprising knowledge, which styles were best for your feet.

The weirdest part? He didn’t even seem annoyed to help. You hadn’t asked for it. He just… did it. Like it was no big deal. He said he was just following orders. That it wasn’t personal. And you believed that, mostly. But just because something isn’t personal doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. And now, just as you were starting to feel the tiniest bit more at ease around him—heels snug on your feet, posture relaxing, breath evening out—you heard it:

"Oi, Inupi! I found this old woman doing fortune telling with playing cards just down the cor—” a familiar voice called out as the door jingled open. 

You froze. Great. Just great. Just like that, the already-weird situation turned straight-up uncomfortable. You didn’t even need to turn around to recognize the voice. But you did anyway. There stood Kokonoi, wavy black hair slicked neatly to the right, the undercut sides of his head cut into precision-trimmed furrows. His black, almond-shaped eyes took in the sight of you and Inupi with calculating amusement, glinting like a cat watching something entertaining unfold. A gold earring dangled from his ear, catching the overhead light.

He strolled into the shop like it was a runway. Then, he tilted his head, letting the earring swing a little as he blinked at the scene. His gaze bounced between you and Inupi, confusion quickly melting into a smirk. He whistled low, a smug grin spreading across his face like he’d just walked in on something scandalous. “Okay… well, this is new.”

You blinked, hands tightening around the box in your lap as your brows drew together in a faint frown.

“Didn’t realize you were on a date, Inupi,” Kokonoi teased.

Your head whipped toward Inupi, heat rushing to your ears as your mouth parted—ready to object, deny, say something to clarify the very obvious misunderstanding. The awkwardness clung to you like static, making your posture stiffen and your fingers twitch with the urge to sink into the floor. But Inupi didn’t even flinch. He remained still, his face impassive, calm as ever—hands tucked into his pockets, green eyes fixed forward like the teasing hadn’t even landed. If anything, the faintest sigh passed through his nose, as if the whole thing was barely worth reacting to.

“It’s not,” he replied flatly. His face was unreadable, voice even. “She twisted her ankle wearing the wrong heels. I helped her find the right ones.”

Kokonoi raised a brow, the corner of his mouth tugging into a grin as he let out a short chuckle. “Uh huh. So now you’re shoe shopping together?” He folded his arms across his chest, one hip jutting out slightly as he shifted his weight to one leg. The smugness in his voice was thick, like he was genuinely amused by the sight in front of him. “Didn’t think you were the Good Samaritan type, Inupi. Especially for someone who doesn’t exactly have the fondest memories of you.”

Your jaw tensed. You weren’t a violent person—not usually. But in that moment, with his black cat-like eyes gleaming in amusement and that irritating smirk stretched across his face, you couldn’t help but imagine the satisfying thud of a stiletto meeting his skull. Accidentally, of course.

You tightened your grip on the box in your lap, took a deep breath, and somehow forced your voice to stay even. “Just to clarify,” you said slowly, keeping your tone calm despite the annoyance bubbling beneath it, “I didn’t ask for his help. He offered. And he was actually... kind enough to help without being asked.”

The words hung in the air for a moment. Kokonoi’s smirk faltered slightly—not completely gone, but something behind his eyes shifted, like he hadn’t expected you to say that. He gave a lazy shrug but didn’t drop that sly smirk completely. 

“So,” Inupi cut in before Koko could needle further, “what did you want to tell me, Koko?”

Kokonoi blinked, then seemed to remember his original excitement. “Oh, right! There’s this old lady set up near the plaza doing fortune telling. Looked kinda fun. Wanna check it out?”

Inupi glanced at him, then shrugged. “Sure. Not like we’re in a rush.”

“Exactly.” Kokonoi grinned and patted Inupi’s shoulder. “And I know your patience is garbage, so we better get there before the line gets crazy.”

You stood there awkwardly, unsure if you were even meant to be hearing this. Part of you wanted to wander off and check more shoes—Inupi really was good at picking them, and maybe there was still time to ask—but the other part knew this was probably where things wrapped up. Besides, why would Inupi hang around to help you further when he could head off with Koko instead? But then Kokonoi turned back to you with a grin, eyes glittering with a bit too much mischief.

“Hey, you. Wanna come with us? Aren’t you curious what the fortune teller might say about you?”

You blinked, taken off guard. “Ugh… no, thanks. Not really my thing. But I appreciate the invite.” You tried to keep it polite, even forcing a small smile, though your tone probably came off a little unsure.

“C’mon,” he pressed, a chuckle in his voice. “We don’t bite. I figured it’d be a nice way to say sorry. Y’know, for back then. We were kinda assholes.” He scratched the back of his neck, expression softening just a hair. “If it sucks, you can leave." Then, as if something clicked, his eyes narrowing in thought. “…Wait.” He paused, tapping a finger to his chin. “What was your name again?”

Your brows lifted, surprised at how casually Kokonoi admitted it.

Assholes.

He said it like it was no big deal, but the fact that he said it at all—so openly, so quickly—hit a strange chord in you. So he did know. He wasn’t oblivious to how it had gone down. The rough way they’d treated you back then… he knew exactly how much it had sucked for you. Maybe they even regretted it? Your eyes shifted to Inupi for a second. He hadn’t said sorry, not directly. But he had helped you. Without being asked. Stepping in when the store staff had failed, picking out the right shoes with eerie precision. It wasn’t just a coincidence, was it? Maybe… maybe this was his way of apologizing, just without saying the words aloud. Not everyone was good at apologies. Especially not guys like them—quiet, proud, raised in chaos and survival. For people like them, actions probably spoke louder than words ever could.

You hesitated a beat before answering.

“[Name],” you said quietly.

“Alright, [Name]," Kokonoi repeated, letting your name roll off his tongue with surprising ease. "So what do you say?”

This time, his voice lacked the teasing edge it carried just moments before. The mockery fell away, replaced by something real. It wasn’t smug or flirty anymore. There was a weight behind the words now, a kind of gentleness that felt strangely out of place coming from him. You weren’t sure what to say. Kokonoi had this way of speaking that sounded nice, but something about the glint in his eye told you to tread carefully. Still, if he really meant it—if it was just for fun—maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing to go. You weren’t doing anything else today.

You grimaced. “Uhm, alright. I’ll try it. But if I feel uncomfortable, I can go, right?”

“Course,” Kokonoi said smoothly. Then he grinned, showing teeth. “Or maybe not. Who knows?” And just to be a little shit, he stuck his tongue out—pink and smug and obnoxious. You sighed, the sound barely audible, followed by a subtle roll of your eyes. A faint smile tugged at the corner of your lips—one you shaped deliberately, not out of enjoyment, but to appear more at ease than you actually felt. You weren’t sure if it convinced them—least of all yourself—but it was better than standing there stiff and unreadable under Kokonoi’s sharp gaze and Inupi's blank expression.

This was going to be something.

“Please give me a second to buy the shoes,” you said, pulling off the pair and slipping into your own sneakers again. Sport shoes were still the most comfortable, but you had to admit—Inupi’s choice felt good. Both Inupi and Kokonoi gave a short nod in response, stepping aside and heading toward the store’s entrance to wait for you. You made your way to the checkout counter where a familiar face greeted you—it was the same woman who’d tried to help you earlier. Apparently, she’d given up on the sales floor and decided to take over the register instead. You didn’t blame her; helping customers who couldn’t find the right fit could get exhausting fast. Maybe she needed a little break (from you lol).

You handed her the box with the shoes—Inupi’s pick—and she gave you a small smile as she scanned them. After ringing up your purchase, she gently placed the heels into a bag and handed it to you with a cheerful, “Hope these treat you well!” followed by a friendly wink. You returned her smile, feeling a little lighter. A few of the other staff nearby also gave you polite nods on your way out. As you turned toward the door, your eyes landed on the glass. Just outside, you could see the backs of Inupi and Kokonoi, standing side by side, casually waiting for you.

Somehow, that sight made your stomach twist a little—but you weren’t sure if it was nerves, curiosity… or something else entirely.

You took a deep breath and gulped down your nervosity before reaching for the door. The bag with your new shoes was in one hand, while your other hand reached out to push the glass open. Your small bag—just big enough to fit your phone and wallet—hung over your shoulder, resting lightly against your hip. As you stepped outside, the cool air hit your face. Inupi and Kokonoi turned slightly at the sound of the door.

“Sorry for making you wait, Inupi kun, Koko kun” you said quickly, offering a polite smile. “I hope it wasn’t too long.”

Kokonoi raised a brow, a grin already forming on his face. “Damn, look at you,” he teased. “Already calling us by our nicknames?”

You blinked, confused. “Huh?”

Koko chuckled, clearly amused. “You said Inupi and Koko."

You frowned slightly, feeling a bit flustered. “Oh—I just thought... that’s what people call you? I didn’t mean to act like I know you guys or anything. I'm sorry...”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Kokonoi said, waving it off. “Pretty much everyone calls us that. You’re good.”

Still, a bit of embarrassment clung to you as you walked alongside them. You couldn’t help but wonder in your head—Okay, “Kokonoi” turning into “Koko” made sense… but how did “Inui” become “Inupi”? In Japanese culture, people sometimes added "-pi" to names to make them sound cuter. Kids did it, or close friends, people who’d known each other for a long time. Like a softer, friendlier version of someone’s name. It was funny, honestly. You could see Kokonoi turning into Koko—that one made sense. But Inui becoming Inupi? That was kinda adorable. And really unexpected.

You glanced between the two of them. Kokonoi, with that ever-present smirk, and Inupi, quiet but standing there like he belonged exactly where he was. Huh, you thought. They must’ve known each other since forever. Those kinds of nicknames didn’t just pop up out of nowhere. It was oddly endearing...

“We good to go?” Inupi asked, glancing at you with the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. You nodded, shifting the shopping bag in your hand.

“Finally,” Koko groaned, stretching his arms above his head like he'd just been held hostage. Without waiting for a response, he started walking, Inupi casually falling into step beside him. You followed a few steps behind, watching them from the back. As the three of you headed toward the plaza, Kokonoi launched into a full-on excited ramble about the fortune teller like it was the highlight of his year.

“I swear, what if she actually predicts something crazy? Like, what if she tells me I’m secretly a long-lost prince or something?” he said, his voice filled with mock awe.

Inupi gave him a sideways look. “You already act like you are.”

Kokonoi gasped dramatically. “Wow. That’s rude. Is it a crime to dream?”

“You asked if you were a prince,” Inupi said flatly. “Not if you could dream.”

You blinked at the back of their heads, kind of amazed. Their banter was so… stupid. But also kind of wholesome? Like, here were two guys who looked like they stepped out of a gang fight just casually arguing about psychic nonsense like they were on a field trip. Still walking behind them, you found yourself smiling a little. It was weirdly refreshing. Silly. But… nice. Then, out of nowhere, Inupi turned his head slightly toward you.

“What do you think?” he asked.

You blinked. “About what?”

“About the whole ‘secret prince’ thing,” he said, clearly not buying it but entertaining Koko’s nonsense all the same.

You paused, thinking for a moment before answering a bit too seriously, “Well, if he was a prince, he’d definitely be the spoiled type. Probably make his guards carry him around in a golden chair.”

Kokonoi whipped his head around with a grin. “You’re actually taking me seriously? See, Inupi? She respects my curiosity! Unlike you...”

Inupi raised an eyebrow. “She’s just being polite, man.”

You huffed a laugh under your breath. Honestly, you weren’t sure what surprised you more—that Koko was so into this fortune teller stuff, or that you were already getting dragged into their dumb back-and-forth like this was normal.

You didn’t really believe in fortune telling. Like, how could some random person sitting behind a table, flipping cards, possibly know your future? She wasn’t some divine being—just a human, same as you. And sure, maybe sometimes what they said sounded right, but that was probably just luck. Or they kept it vague on purpose. Saying stuff like “you’ll be happy soon” or “a big change is coming”—yeah, no kidding. That could apply to anyone. It wasn’t real insight. Just broad, open-ended guesses that people twisted into meaning something.  It felt like something anyone could pull out of thin air and somehow make it fit your life.

Besides, you weren’t even sure you believed the future could be changed. Some things were just going to happen, no matter what. And what already happened? That was written in stone. You couldn’t undo it.

Unless you had some kind of time travel ability—which, obviously, you didn’t.  Nothing like that exists in this world, lmao.

Not everything was in your control. Maybe life had its own plan and you were just walking the path already set for you. Still… as much as you didn’t buy into it, Kokonoi made it sound kind of fun. Even if it was nonsense, it might be interesting to hear what she had to say. Maybe you’d even relate to it a little. If she said something like, “You’re a happy person,” she wouldn’t be wrong. Even after everything—the crap you went through, the months where everything felt heavy—you still had moments that reminded you life wasn’t all bad. You’d met good people, too. Maybe not many, but enough to make you believe that things weren’t completely hopeless.

Funny thing is, some of those good people only came into your life because of the bad stuff. Like, if those awful things hadn’t happened, you wouldn’t have met people like Rindou, Chifuyu, or even Kisaki. And yeah, meeting Inupi and Kokonoi actually turned out to be… kind of nice, even if your first meeting with them wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows. Then there was Sanzu—someone you met through Mikey. That situation was complicated, but even that was starting to feel like it could get better. You don't believe Sanzu is a bad person. He went through trauma as a kid, and he took it out on you, which sucked, but it kind of made sense in a twisted way. Still, things seemed like they were slowly improving between you two, and you hoped it’d continue that way. And then there was Ran. You didn’t really know him, aside from that one random meeting after the gym. But hey—he is Rindou’s older brother, so he must be nice, right?

Of course, not everyone you met was great. Hanma? Yeah, that guy is definitely a piece of work. And you didn’t even know yet that there was someone even worse, even shittier waiting to show up in your life… someone named Izana. But what you really didn’t see coming was that the people you thought were good—people you trusted, people who made you feel like things were finally turning around—would show you other sides of themselves, too. Not always bad, but… different. More complicated. It turns out people aren’t just good or bad. They’re messy. They carry their own pain, their own stories, and sometimes, even the ones who helped you through the dark have their own darkness that you just hadn’t seen yet.

And yeah, that realization kind of sucks. Because it made you question if you were just being naive the whole time. Or maybe that’s just life—getting to know people, layer by layer, until you finally understand them for who they really are. The good and the bad. So no. You didn’t believe in cards pulled from someone’s ass. But maybe you were curious enough to sit and listen anyway.

Listening could still be fun, right? Hahaha...It’s not like the fortune teller would suddenly lose her mind and break down crying the second she saw you…Right?

Not like she’d gasp and go pale while predicting how absolutely fucking awful your life is going to get.

If you could even still call it a “life” by that point.

—

[Author's note: Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed this new chapter. I’m really excited for the next one—let’s see what the fortune teller has to say about Reader… and trust me, Koko’s and Inupi’s fortunes are going to be interesting too! I hope you're enjoying the dynamic between our favorite cat and dog duo. Personally, I think their personalities were already pretty clear even before the Christmas Showdown Arc. I mean, yeah, they were both kinda crazy—like, Inupi literally threatened to stab Hakkai with a knife (yikes)—but honestly, I blame Taiju’s chaotic energy for that, haha. Also, it might seem like I’m hating on Izana right now, but I swear, he’s actually in my top-tier character list—right up there with Rindo and Haruchiyo (along with a few others too, of course). Oh, and think of this chapter as a slightly late birthday gift for Ran’s birthday. Our cute scarecrow deserves some love! Thanks for reading, and see you in the next one]

[gohan1]

[Chapter 34]

The math exam had gone surprisingly well.

You were buzzing with relief, curled up in your bed, surrounded by the comforting scent of fresh lavender from your clean sheets. Fully stretched out, your head resting deep into your pillow, you let out a long, satisfied sigh. It felt good—really good—to walk out of an exam room with the sense that you hadn't totally bombed it. Sure, the stress hadn’t vanished completely, but at least the worst part was over. Your body, though, was screaming for rest after so many nights of pushing through study sessions. Sleep was your usual go-to for recharging and quieting your overactive thoughts. Even if you’d still gotten a decent amount of sleep lately, the mental toll left your brain feeling like jelly.

You turned on your side, pulling your arms close to your chest, your eyes fixed on the wall. Thinking back, you were pretty sure that the only reason you didn’t lose your composure during the exam was because of Kisaki’s weirdly well-timed reassurance in the subway. The memory of your minor panic attack over forgetting formulas, hunched over your math problems on the subway bench, still made your stomach twist. But Kisaki, of all people, had told you you’d be fine—said you’d remember it all once the exam started. Strangely enough, he was right. The numbers, graphs, and formulas had come back like muscle memory.

Still, you hoped it was enough. You did struggle with that dumb transfer problem. Like, who actually cares where two lines meet in a coordinate system? It’s not like you'd need this math stuff in real life—unless you planned on becoming an engineer or something. And thank God you were generally good at school, because if that wasn’t the case, you probably would’ve had a meltdown. And yeah—speaking of meltdowns, one of your classmates had explained to you after the exam that she somehow ended up calculating that the person in one of the math problems was swimming in air. Like, literally swimming in air. You were wheezing. Like seriously, how the hell did she even manage that? You didn’t even want to be mean, but it was just so stupidly funny. You actually had to turn away at one point so she wouldn’t see you crack up. It was stuff like that—moments of sheer randomness—that made school bearable even when the stress levels were insane.

Just as you were starting to drift off, your bedroom door creaked open. Your mother peeked in with a gentle smile.

“Sweetie, dinner’s almost ready. I’m so happy the exam went well—maybe a little too happy. I think I cooked enough to feed an army,” she laughed and stepped into the room, sitting down at the edge of your bed.

“We should celebrate a good start to your exams, don’t you think?” she leaned in and kissed your cheek. You smiled, your cheek squishing into the pillow.

“Oh—and,” she added, her tone changing slightly, “there’s a wedding next week. A coworker of mine is getting married. We’ve known each other for over ten years.”

You looked up, half-interested. “Wait… the one who sends us those famous dorayaki?”

“Exactly!” your mom grinned.

“Oh, right! The April Fools’ prank dorayaki…” Your eyes widened a bit. “Didn’t Mikey almost puke because of one?”

Your mother winced at the memory. “Ugh, yeah. I think it was wasabi and bean paste or something. Poor Manjiro-kun. He did not take that well.”

You shook your head. “No, mine had the wasabi. Mikey’s tasted like...ugh, yeah like actual poop.”

She looked horrified. “Seriously?”

You nodded hastily. “I’m not even exaggerating. We both literally thought we were dying,” you said with a chuckle.

“Anyway…” she cleared her throat, steering the topic back. “I was supposed to go with your dad, but he has to work extra shifts. I’d really like you to come with me instead. Of course, if you’re too busy, or don’t want to—”

“No, it’s okay,” you said, sitting up slowly. “Actually, it might be kinda nice. A change of pace.”

“Great!” she beamed, but then gave you a half-serious look. “Okay, don’t be mad, but I think it’s time we get you some elegant shoes. I was thinking of high heels.”

You groaned immediately. “But sneakers are comfy! And if I’m wearing a long dress, no one’s even gonna see them.”

“I know, I know,” your mom said, raising her hands in mock surrender. “But honestly, heels change the entire vibe of an outfit. You're seventeen, sweetheart—not seven. It's time to start exploring a more mature style. And believe it or not, there are comfortable high heels out there. It's just a matter of finding the right pair.”

You groaned, flopping backward onto your mountain of pillows like a tragic heroine. “Ugh, fine… But I’m not going into that battlefield alone. I wouldn’t even know where to start—there’s like a thousand styles… It’s overwhelming.”

She chuckled, amused by your melodrama. “Go with Emma chan," she suggested. "You two haven’t spent much time together lately, and she’s always had a great eye for fashion.”

You paused, thinking. “That’s true…My exams got in the way.”

And other things.

“There you go,” your mother said with a triumphant little nod. “And while you’re out, why not stop by that café you both like—you know, the one with those ridiculously cute milkshakes. Treat her to something nice. She deserves it.”

You arched a brow playfully, giving her a teasing smile. “Are you saying I don’t deserve it?”

She chuckled, nudging your knee. “Oh, you absolutely do. But Emma chan…," she mumbled with a pained expression. "She’s had it tough. No parents to lean on and you know...losing Shinichiro kun so suddenly like that… it breaks my heart sometimes. Her grandfather’s not in great shape either. At least Manjiro kun is still with her. I think they’re what’s keeping each other grounded.”

There was a softness in her voice now, tinted with that unmistakable ache of empathy. Her smile wavered just slightly, and you saw the familiar glisten in her eyes. “As long as they have each other, I really believe they’ll be okay. The best thing we can do is just be there—offer a little warmth when life gets too hard.”

Moved, you reached over and took her hand gently in yours. “They’re stronger than people give them credit for,” you said, voice low but steady. “And I think… I think they’re happy. Or at least, trying to be. That counts for something, right?”

Her eyes softened, her hand tightening around yours as you held it. “I know,” she said quietly. “It’s just hard sometimes, seeing kids go through more than they should. Emma chan always puts on a brave face, but I can tell she carries a lot more than she lets on.”

You nodded slowly, thinking of Emma’s quiet strength, how she laughed easily but sometimes stared off a little too long at nothing. “But Emma and Mikey are not alone. I won't leave them.”

Your mom blinked a few times, then gave you a proud, teary smile. “You're so kind [Name].”

You gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Well, I had a pretty good teacher.”

She let out a breathy laugh and wiped the corner of her eye. A quiet moment settled between you, warm and bittersweet like the fading sun on a long day. Then she let out a breath, smiling again, this time more firmly.

“Alright,” she said, clearing her throat with mock seriousness. “Go text Emma chan."

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you reached for your phone. “Okay, okay… I’ll text her. But I swear, if she tries to put me in six-inch stilettos, I’m blaming you.”

She laughed on her way out the door. “Deal. But just try not to twist an ankle on the first step.”

You chuckled and opened your chat with Emma. You sent a quick message asking if she wanted to hang out the next day.

Nearly ten minutes later, your phone buzzed with a reply.

Emma:   I’d love to! I miss hanging out with you so much. I’m free tomorrow—How about Shibuya? 🛍💖

You smiled at her enthusiasm and agreed quickly, figuring out a time and place to meet up. It felt nice—something normal. Something that didn’t involve formulas and notebooks.

Or people getting punched right in front of you.

The next day came, and you got to the shopping area a few minutes early. Shibuya was as busy as ever—crowded streets, laughing kids, couples hand-in-hand, groups of friends giggling over drinks. You stood near the shoe shop you planned to browse in, waiting for Emma.

But fifteen minutes passed.

Then twenty...

Suddenly, your phone buzzed.

Emma:  Something came up… Actually, Draken kun asked me to go out with him and I didn’t tell him we already made plans. I had to say yes. He never asks directly like that. I’ll make it up to you, I promise!! Don’t be mad—please?? 😭

You stared at the screen, feeling your stomach twist.

Emma has feelings for Draken. But still, it blew your mind sometimes just how far she was willing to go. Like that time she told you she snuck off to some shady karaoke place just to make out with a random guy in an attempt to make Draken jealous. She even admitted she was still in her underwear—like that was meant to calm you down. Like it somehow made the whole thing less terrifying. Still in her underwear? That just meant it almost went further.

And the worst part? She’s fourteen. That’s not “normal teenage rebellion.” That’s a kid trying to throw herself into something way beyond her emotional depth, just to get noticed. Seriously, what the actual fuck? Just to prove a point to a guy who is knee-deep in gang life. He’s part of that dangerous world. A world where girls like Emma could end up...

dead.

She wasn’t built for that kind of life. If something ever happened to her because of the crowd he ran with... you weren’t sure you’d be able to forgive yourself for standing by silently. And she’s still chasing him. 

Even now, at seventeen, you couldn’t imagine doing something that extreme. You didn’t even have a crush at the moment—and even if you did, the idea of kissing some stranger just to provoke someone else? That sounded less like romance and more like a cry for help. That’s not love. That’s desperation wrapped up in a fairytale she’s trying to script on her own. It’s unhealthy, it’s risky, and it makes your heart ache because she’s your friend. You promised to support her, and you will. Because you love her. You really do. But watching her run full speed toward something that could shatter her? That’s unbearable.

You sighed, tugging your jacket tighter around you as you stood in the middle of the crowded shopping district. The noise of street vendors and fashion boutiques blurred into a buzzing background hum, but you felt strangely alone.

Emma had bailed on you.

She was supposed to come. You were supposed to try on ridiculous high heels and laugh about it together, maybe drink something pink at the café with the cute milkshakes your mom had mentioned. But apparently, Draken had said something, done something, and Emma had changed her plans. No explanation. No apology. You knew she could’ve just told Draken she had plans with you. It would’ve taken two seconds. But she didn’t. 

Whatever. No point in wasting the trip.

You headed into the shoe store. Rows and rows of heels lined the walls—stilettos, pumps, sandals. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed faintly as you wandered from display to display. You tried on a low pair of heels. Just a few centimeters. Flat enough to not feel too foreign. But within minutes, your toes were already screaming. You tried on another pair—pointed tips, a little higher. Same problem. Then a pair with straps. Then another.

By the tenth attempt, you sat on the fitting bench, surrounded by rejected boxes and discarded tissue paper, feeling very much defeated. The sales assistant tried helping, but even the comfiest-looking options ended with you hissing in pain and ripping them off like they were burning coals. You were on the verge of giving up, and even the sales assistant gave up trying to help.

You stood up to try again, a little clumsily in yet another pair of shoes.

That’s when you saw him.

A head peeked out from the far end of the shelves. Pale skin. Sunflower-colored hair with a neatly shaved undercut. Lifeless green eyes. A faintly marked patch of skin around his left eye.

You knew that face.

Ugh...His name is Inupi, right?

He stepped into full view, wearing a white button-up shirt tucked into black pants, and—most noticeably—a pair of high purple heels.

He was quietly browsing the shelves, eyes scanning slowly. Calm. Collected. The image of him in heels should’ve been strange, but somehow it wasn’t. His expression was unreadable, but he didn’t look threatening. Still, your first instinct was to bolt. The first time you saw him was when he helped block your escape from Yuzuha's older brother. You remembered the fear in your chest, the pressure of his hand on your wrist. How helpless you’d felt.

You tried to walk away fast—but forgot you were still in heels. Your ankle buckled and you winced in pain, gripping the shelf as the boxes clattered to the ground around you. A couple of people turned to look—some startled, others mildly confused—but you couldn’t even muster the energy to feel embarrassed. The sharp sting in your ankle was already blooming, and all you could think was:

Damn it. My mother really jinxed me.

You could practically hear your mother’s voice echoing in your head—"But just try not to twist an ankle." Right. Like that wasn’t the exact thing you just did. You tested your weight on your foot—wobbly, but manageable. Okay. Not broken. Just your pride and possibly your dignity. You carefully straightened up, brushing imaginary dust off your clothes like that would fix everything.

You heard the soft, deliberate click of heels approaching but didn’t lift your head. The throb in your ankle, and the sheer absurdity of the day were already enough.

“You okay?” a low, even voice asked.

You gave a quick nod, keeping your eyes on the ground. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you for as—”

Your voice faltered as you looked up—and froze.

Standing a few feet away was Inupi.

You felt your shoulders tense instinctively, your pulse skipping. He stood there, hands tucked loosely into his pockets. No sign of aggression. No tension. Just that cool, blank gaze watching you.

“Didn’t expect to run into you again,” he said with a deep voice. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to start anything. That day—I had orders. That’s all.”

You blinked, unsure whether to trust the words. You hadn’t even thought about seeing him again, let alone… like this.

“Alright...Good to know,” you frowned.

His eyes drifted down to the scattered mess of shoes and boxes around your feet.

“You’re shopping for heels?” he asked.

You averted your gaze. “Trying to...”

He knelt down and picked up a pair you’d tossed aside, studying it.

“You’ve got flat feet,” he said plainly. “And you’re trying on narrow, closed-toe shoes. No wonder they’re killing you.”

You stared at him. “Wait, seriously?”

He nodded. “You need something with an open toe. Wider front. Thicker heel. Those kinds won’t destroy your feet. Also—” he looked directly at your feet, “you’re probably wearing the wrong size. These are too small.”

You blinked, completely embarrassed. “Wow, thank you for telling me I have giant feet.”

He tilted his head, unfazed. “Didn’t say they were giant. Just said those shoes are too small.”

"Ugh..."

He turned back to the shelves and started scanning them again. After a couple minutes, he pulled out a cream-colored pair with soft straps and a low, rounded heel.

“Try these. They should be more your type.”

You hesitated. “…You’re seriously picking out shoes for me now?”

He stood and held the box out. “You want to walk or fall again?”

Your face was red from shame. Still, you took the shoes from him and slipped them on, not expecting much. But to your surprise… they didn’t pinch. Or stab. Or feel like medieval torture devices. You walked a few careful steps.

“…They’re actually… not bad,” you admitted, blinking.

“Told you,” he said simply.

You gave him another look, more curious than wary now.

“Okay, but how are you walking in heels? You’re in full-blown skyscrapers and didn’t even stumble.”

Inui followed your gaze, briefly glancing down at his feet as if he hadn’t noticed them until you mentioned it. Then he looked back up, face unreadable. “High heels were originally made for men,” he said casually, his tone flat.

You blinked. “…Okay, yeah, I know that. Stability in stirrups, right? For horseback riding. But still, you walk so easy in them while I struggle as a girl."

He gave a small shrug, hands still tucked into his pockets. “Takes practice... and besides this is also something that delinquents wear as a fashion style."

You tilted your head, genuinely intrigued despite yourself. “Wait… so you’re telling me you can actually fight in them?”

That faint flicker of something returned to his expression. Not quite a smile, but something close—maybe amusement, or pride. “Yeah,” he said simply.

You blinked again, then let out a short laugh—more surprised than mocking. “Okay, well… that’s actually impressive. I can barely stand without twisting my ankle, and here you are doing kicks in heels probably.”

Inui didn’t say anything, but there was something warmer about his silence this time. A subtle shift in the air between you.

You found yourself easing a bit. The awkwardness wasn’t entirely gone, but it was no longer suffocating. For a brief moment, the version of Inupi who had once grabbed your wrist and made your stomach drop faded into the background. In his place was this… oddly attentive, quiet guy, crouched down and picking out shoes for you without a word of complaint, without you ever asking. No sharp comments. No forced attitude.

It is hard to believe this is the same person who stands beside Taiju Shiba. Inupi is still intimidating. Still hard to read. But not cruel. You found yourself staring into his green eyes. And as you stood there, awkwardly comfortable in your new shoes, you realized something simple but surprising:

Inupi is a kind person.

Just when you started to feel like your shoulders weren’t pulled up to your ears anymore—like the tension that had wrapped around you since the second you saw him was finally starting to fade—a familiar, voice rang out from the shop’s entrance.

“Oi, Inupi! I found this old woman doing fortune telling with playing cards just down the cor—”

The voice cut off mid-sentence.

The sudden halt, the shift in energy, the way your stomach dropped again. Your body stiffened on instinct. You could feel the confusion radiating from where Kokonoi—Taiju's other underling—stood in the doorway. There was a beat of silence as his eyes likely swept over the scene: you standing in a pair of heels that actually fit, a few boxes still scattered around you, and Inupi—stoic as ever—standing just a few feet away with his hands in his pockets.

He let out a low whistle, a smug grin tugging at his lips as he looked your way. “Okay… well, this is new.”

Fuck this shit.

[gohan1]

[Chapter 33]

You’re already exhausted before the day even starts.

The subway doors screech open with a mechanical sigh, and a sea of people press inward like a tidal wave. You step in with the crowd, your back heavy with the weight of your school bag and the mounting pressure of your math exam. It’s your first lesson of the day—just an hour away—and you should feel confident. You studied. You revised. You even dreamed about graphs and equations.

And yet.

You clutch your math exercise book to your chest like a shield as you find a free seat and sink into it, your thighs brushing against someone else's for a brief moment before they shift away. The stale air smells faintly of cologne, coffee, and the cold metal of the rails. Around you, strangers stare at phones, blink sleepily, or mumble half-hearted greetings into earpieces. You balance the book on your lap, open to a familiar page, and uncap your pen with a quiet click. Your fingers are already cramping slightly—residue from last night’s obsessive message-drafting to Rindo. Hours. You spent hoursretyping, deleting, rephrasing.

Maybe you should’ve used that time to go over your notes instead.

The train shudders forward, and you plant your feet more firmly, eyes fixed on a problem that once came to you as easily as breathing. You read it twice. Then a third time. You start solving.

And then… you freeze.

The numbers don’t match. The answer—the one you know is supposed to be right—isn’t showing up. You double-check. Triple-check. Your pen moves faster, almost frantic now, but each time you hit a wall. Something’s wrong. Your chest begins to tighten, your heart thrumming just beneath your skin. You flip to another problem. New variables, same struggle. Your mind clouds over with frustration, the lines on the page blurring, and suddenly every formula you’ve memorized collapses into static.

You’re spiraling.

Your pen scratches wildly against the page, then stops. Your throat clenches. Hot tears sting at the corners of your eyes. You rub them quickly, but your face is already flushed. You feel like you’re going to cry, right here, on a packed subway train. Someone across from you glances up from their phone. A woman further down gives you a quiet look of sympathy. Others don’t even notice. Or worse—they pretend not to.

Not that it matters. Even if someone did notice the way your hands tremble, the way your breathing falters, what would they do? How could they possibly help you with something like this—with formulas that won’t stick and answers that refuse to come? This is your problem to solve. Yours alone. At least… that’s what you thought.

You sniff quietly and drop your head, your page crumpled slightly under the grip of your trembling fingers. You knewthis. You should know this. You’re falling apart. The train lurches again. A few passengers shuffle off at the next station. The train feels lighter, quieter. You’re still hunched over your book when you hear a calm, clear voice beside you:

“You only miscalculated a bit.”

You freeze.

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, everything around you fades into a low, distant hum—the screeching of the subway rails, the rustle of newspapers, even the buzz of tired conversation. Slowly, hesitantly, you turn your head. Your vision is blurry for a moment—not just from the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but from the strands of hair that have fallen across your face. Your hands, shaking slightly, reach up and tuck the loose strands behind your ear.

As your line of sight clears, your eyes meet a pair of calm, sharp ones looking directly at you. He stands in the aisle, looking at you with an unreadable expression. His orbs were a cold, calculating blue—icy and clear like the surface of a frozen lake, with a stillness that didn’t match his age. They weren’t the kind of blue that sparkled or glimmered with warmth; instead, they pierced, observant and unsettling, like they were always analyzing, always three steps ahead.

When his gaze met yours, it was like the noise of the subway vanished for a moment.

His school uniform is nowhere to be seen; instead, he stands casually, dressed in a crisp white button-up shirt, the collar neatly pressed and the top button left undone. Over it, he wears a slim black knit sweater that fits just right—not too tight, not too loose—giving him a surprisingly composed look for a teenager. His dark jeans are clean and straight-cut, paired with simple black sneakers that have seen use but are well-kept. His glasses catch a glint of light as he tilts his head slightly.

You blink up at him, stunned. “Kisaki kun…?”

“Are you alright? You look like you're having a breakdown,” he says, matter-of-factly, adjusting his glasses with a fingertip.

You nod, biting your lip. “Yeah… I’ve got a math test later,” you say quietly, frustration edging into your voice. “I thought I had everything down, but now I can’t remember half of what I studied. It's like my brain just shut off. I can’t even focus on the formulas anymore.”

Kisaki’s eyes meet yours—calm, sharp, steady. There’s a flicker of something in them. Not surprise. Not pity. Just quiet understanding, like he knows exactly what kind of pressure you’re under. His eyes narrow slightly, and he leans against the pole next to you, crossing his arms. “Like I said, it’s just a miscalculation,” he replies smoothly. “It happens—especially when you’re under pressure. You probably overdid it. You’ll remember everything once the exam starts.” 

You blink, unsure of how to respond. His words are simple, but somehow, they’re comforting. “You really think I’ll remember everything during the exam?”

He gives you a glance, his gaze steady and unflinching. “You will.” His voice softens a little as he watches you, sensing your doubt. “Sometimes, you need a break from all this thinking. You’re not a machine,” he adds.

You swallow hard, glancing down at your math book, still open on your lap. "I don't know if I can take a break right now," you murmur, the frustration still clinging to your voice.

Kisaki exhales quietly through his nose—a sound that’s more thoughtful than annoyed. He rubs a knuckle under his chin, eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing something in his mind. Then, after a pause, he speaks.

“May I sit?”

His voice is calm, composed. He tilts his head slightly toward the empty seat beside you.

You blink in surprise. “Oh—uh, yeah. Of course.” You fumble with your school bag and quickly shift it out of the way, making room.

Kisaki lowers himself into the seat beside you—each movement deliberate, unhurried, almost too composed. He doesn't speak at first. His presence is quiet, but it lingers heavily, like a shift in the air pressure around you. You glance at him from the corner of your eye just as he tilts his head slightly toward your book. His gaze sweeps over the open pages with precise, analytical focus. There’s no hesitation, no visible effort—just quick, practiced flicks of his eyes, absorbing the problems with an unsettling calm.

You instinctively curl your fingers around the edge of the notebook, suddenly hyper-aware of how sloppy your handwriting looks next to his clean, methodical demeanor. The rough eraser marks. The panicked scribbles in the margins. The corner of the page slightly crumpled where your hand had trembled moments ago. Normally, your handwriting is beautiful—arguably the most elegant in your entire class, praised by teachers and envied by classmates. But now, under pressure and anxiety, it’s barely legible in places. The numbers slant unevenly, some rushed beyond recognition. It’s frustrating—humiliating, even. Embarrassment creeps up your neck like heat. You shift slightly in your seat, resisting the urge to close the book or cover the mess with your hand.

And yet, Kisaki says nothing.

His expression remains unreadable, calm as ever. He makes no comment, no derisive glance. His sharp eyes continue scanning the page without pause, not a single flicker of judgment in them. If he notices the mess, he doesn’t let it show. It’s as if your panic-induced scrawl is perfectly natural to him—just another variable to quietly process and understand.

“You misapplied the second formula,” he says, voice low. “You multiplied instead of substituting. Look—here.” He doesn’t touch your notebook, just gestures precisely, explaining each step with a quiet clarity that cuts through the fog in your head like sunlight. His voice is even, focused—he’s not rushing, not talking down to you. Just clear and to the point.And just like that—you get it.

Your eyes widen.

“Oh my god… that makes so much sense now,” you whisper.

You’re a bit surprised. You didn’t even ask for help, and yet here he is, guiding you through the problem like it’s the most normal thing. Somehow, it doesn’t feel forced or awkward. He just stepped in, and now you're learning from him like it was always meant to happen.

And honestly? You’re grateful.

You follow his explanation carefully, going over the steps again in your head. As he speaks, everything slowly starts to come together. You see exactly where you went wrong. He continues. You turn to the next problem, then the next. Each time, he guides you without impatience, his logic sharp and effortless. There’s no hesitation in his voice, no uncertainty in his explanations. Now, his gaze briefly flicking to your pen before meeting your eyes. His tone is smooth and casual, but with a slight air of confidence. "May I borrow your pen for a moment?" he asks.

"Of course," you say softly, passing the pen into his outstretched hand, trying not to feel flustered by the ease in which he speaks. Kisaki nods slightly, a small, appreciative smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he takes the pen from you. He moves quickly, his hand steady as he writes down the solution. The numbers and formulas come together effortlessly in his mind, and before you know it, the problem is solved. He smiled at you. "There. Wasn't so hard, right?"

You stare at the paper, shocked by how clearly everything has fallen into place now. "How do you do that so easily?" you ask, still a little in awe. "Like seriously, you’re so amazing. Are you in your second or third year of high school?”

Kisaki shrugs, his expression unreadable. “You just have to know how to break things down,” he says, almost offhandedly, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His voice is calm, deliberate—each word measured with quiet confidence.

He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“...I’m still in middle school.”

Your mouth falls open slightly, eyes wide with disbelief. Middle school? You blink at him like you misheard, as if your brain is still buffering the information.

“No way,” you breathe out. “You’re… still in middle school?”

Kisaki glances at you with the faintest smirk, like he’s used to that reaction. “I take it that’s surprising.”

“You think?” you say, still impressed. “You just explained math to me better than my actual teacher—and I’m about to graduate.”

“It’s just logic. If you see the pattern, the problem solves itself.”

You shake your head in amazement. “Still. That’s insane. And ugh...embarrassing for me”

Kisaki doesn’t say anything at first, but you notice the corner of his mouth twitch, just barely, like your shock actually amused him.

“There’s nothing embarrassing about needing help.” 

He's right, but still...You can’t help the way your face warms up. A small blush creeps across your cheeks, and you look down quickly, pretending to adjust the edge of your notebook. Your thoughts start spinning as you try to brush off the awkward feeling in your chest.

“I mean… yeah,” you mumble, laughing quietly, a little self-conscious. “It’s just—kinda embarrassing, you know? I’m in high school, about to graduate, and you’re sitting here solving these problems like it’s nothing.” You mean it lightheartedly, but deep down, there’s a little sting of insecurity. Still, even as you say it, something about the way Kisaki stays calm makes it easier to breathe. He’s not mocking you. If anything, it feels like he actually understands.

Kisaki smiles faintly, but there’s a strange warmth to it. “I’m just good at what I do."

Your cheeks flush. “Still… I should be calling you sensei at this point.”

A soft chuckle leaves his lips, short and subtle.

You study him for a second longer, your gaze drifting over his features. His blonde hair catches your eye—probably dyed, the color a sharp contrast against his dark, composed outfit. It’s styled casually, yet it fits him in a way that almost feels deliberate. Even though you’ve heard that he's a hoodlum, there’s something about the way he carries himself that doesn’t match the stereotype. You can’t help but notice the earring dangling from his left ear, a simple yet distinct accessory that hints at his individuality. It adds a touch of rebellion.

For a moment, you pause, unsure how to word your thoughts. You don't want to imply that hoodlums are all idiots, but based on your experiences, not many of them still stick with school. Yet, Kisaki... he’s different. He looks like someone who should be in school. He gives off the vibe of someone who can balance the two worlds—someone smart enough to slip under the radar, even while living the life of a hoodlum.

"You must be the best student in your school," you remark, unable to hold back the curiosity in your voice. It's impossible not to ask. Everything about him—his knowledge, his demeanor—screams "top student." Kisaki looks at you, before he gives a slight shrug, adjusting his glasses. "I was," he replies, his voice nonchalant.

“…Was?”

“I don’t attend anymore,” he says, eyes flicking out the subway window. “I’ve chosen a different path.”

You blink. “But some gang members still go to school…”

He chuckles at that, though there’s something darker under the sound. “True. But I’ve set my sights elsewhere.”

You don’t push him further, sensing that the air around him has changed ever so slightly. Still, you smile. “Well, I don’t know what those goals are, but if Albert Einstein saw you right now, I think he’d crawl out of his grave just to admire you."

Kisaki raises an eyebrow, amused. “That’s quite the compliment,” he says with a flicker of pride in his eyes.

"I mean, obviously… you just saved me from losing my mind," you say, letting out a small, relieved laugh.

You bow your head slightly, feeling the weight on your shoulders begin to lift for the first time that morning. The tightness in your chest slowly starts to ease, and you let out a quiet sigh, thankful that the panic has subsided.

“You’re doing fine, [Name] san,” he said coolly, returning the pen with an ease that made it feel like he wasn’t even trying to comfort you—just stating facts. “Just breathe.”

The formality of his tone made you smile a little. You reached for the pen gently, brushing your fingers against his as you took it back. “You don’t need to call me ‘san,’” you murmured, fiddling with the cap of your pen. "Just because I’m older doesn’t mean you have to be so formal," you add, a chuckle escaping you, though it's a little awkward.

He looks at you with a quiet pause, then gives a subtle nod. “Alright, [Name] chan."

The train slows again—your stop.

You rise, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Thank you again, Kisaki ku- I mean sensei,” you laugh softly.

He smiles again.

“I don’t even need luck anymore,” you tell with a grin, “thanks to your brilliant tutoring.” Then, almost as an afterthought, you gave him a subtle, respectful wink—clumsily, perhaps, but heartfelt. A quiet way of expressing warmth without overstepping.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t talk more… but I really appreciate it. I hope you’ll have a good day.”

Your voice was quiet but clear, the sincerity unmistakable. The doors opened behind you with a familiar chime. You gave a small nod and stepped away, disappearing into the platform crowd. Kisaki remained still for a moment, watching the space you’d left behind. His expression didn’t change much, but his eyes sharpened slightly—focused.

Have a good day.

For a heartbeat, his face remained calm—expression unreadable, almost passive. But then… something flickered. A shadow. A twitch at the corner of his mouth. And slowly, his lips curled upward into a smirk—not warm, not playful, but sharp. Cold. Calculating. The kind of smile that didn't reach the eyes, the kind that held no kindness. Darkness seemed to settle faintly over his face as the lights of the subway flickered briefly overhead, casting sharp lines across his features. His glasses caught the faintest glint, like the shine of a blade.

He lowered his gaze slightly, his smirk deepening—mischievous, sinister, and utterly self-assured.

I am, he thought. I really am.

Because now, things were unfolding exactly as he intended. Every subtle nudge. Every interaction. Every carefully planted moment. The pieces were all moving—flawlessly.

And you?

You were no exception. You’d walked straight into the web, unaware of the threads tightening around you. A necessary piece. An innocent one. But even innocence had its role in manipulation. Soon, he thought, his eyes narrowing as the train rolled forward again. Soon, Mikey will be exactly where I want him.

And you—sweet, polite, unsuspecting you—would be the perfect key to get there. You were playing right into his hands.

Innocent. Kind. Trusting. Just like Hina had been.

His eyes narrowed faintly as he thought back—back to those fleeting, frustrating moments where she would flash him the same kind of smile. That honest, unfiltered light. That look. The one that said “I see you.” The way she used to smile at him after exams, eyes sparkling as she told him he was the smartest person she knew. No one else had looked at him like that. She had.

And now… you.

That same smile. That same voice. That same light. It confused him. He was supposed to be manipulating you. Every word, every smile, every calculated pause—it was all part of the plan. You were just a piece on the board, another tool to help him control Mikey as he pleases.

And yet…

When you had praised him—when your voice had softened and your expression lit up at his explanation of the math problem—he had smiled without thinking. Not the practiced curve of lips he wore like a mask, but something real. Something he hadn’t felt in years. It had startled him, how natural it felt. How human. He straightened his glasses, expression cool once more, but his fingers lingered longer than necessary. Deep down, an unease twisted in his chest. A whisper beneath the noise of strategy and control.

You're genuine. It threw him off. He smiled like you were Hina.

But the whisper was quickly buried beneath layers of purpose.

Revenge.

Because he had made his decision long ago. Everything he’d done—the blood, the lies, the manipulation—was to serve a greater goal. His goal. Kisaki exhaled slowly, leaning back in the seat as the subway rattled on. His smirk faded, replaced by a slight crease in his brow. Tension, perhaps. Or doubt. For a split second, something like regret flits across his mind—he almost feels bad about how he’s using you. Almost.

He reminds himself: you’ve done nothing wrong. You aren’t a target of any personal vendetta. In fact, you’re exactly the kind of person he needs on his side. Your innocent manner, the way you speak so confidently about right and wrong, your clear moral compass—all of that gives you an outsized influence over Mikey. You could keep Mikey from letting his violent side take over. You could actually save him.

But that’s precisely why you can’t be allowed to do that.

To execute his plan—no, to reshape all of Japan under his vision—Mikey must be unmoored, emotionally unstable, always looking for someone to lean on, someone whose approval he craves. A steady, reasonable person like you by his side would shackle him, strengthen his sense of right and wrong, and ruin the emotional leverage Kisaki needs.

And you are smart. Mikey’s offhand comments to Kisaki—those little confessions he thought were private—made it clear. You understand people. You think through situations. You wouldn’t willingly wade into gang conflicts or try to stop Toman from doing what it believes is necessary. You wouldn’t risk getting hurt in all that mess.

So Kisaki has to guide you. He has to shape your perception so that you see Mikey’s decisions—even the darkest ones—as justified. If you come to believe he is right, you won’t stand in his way. You’ll become the perfect cover, the voice of reason that pushes everyone else to follow, too. No one can see what he’s thinking, but inside his mind the plan unfolds perfectly: control the key player—Mikey—by controlling the person who could possibly stop him. You are the linchpin. The final piece.

He can’t let a pathetic fool like Hanagaki Takemichi ruin everything. That idiot stumbles through life as if fate owes him something. No plan, no control—just luck and blind emotion. And somehow, Tachibana Hina clings to him like he’s worth something. Like he matters. But she doesn’t belong to him. She never did. Hina belongs to Kisaki Tetta. She was always supposed to. She’s the reward, the validation, the symbol of everything he’s worked for. That kind of girl doesn’t love people like Takemichi. She loves greatness. She’s drawn to strength. Prodigies. 

Still, when he pictures her—her warmth, her loyalty, her voice—it’s your face that appears instead. And it makes his blood run cold.

You believe in right and wrong in a way that makes people listen. And Mikey listens to you. That’s the real problem. You could be the chain around Mikey’s neck. The softness that tames the monster Kisaki needs to let loose. You could stop the very thing Kisaki has spent years trying to build. And so, he watches you. Studies you. Not because he hates you—he doesn’t. Not yet.

But if you stand in the way... if you start making Mikey think again, question again, hesitate—then you’re not just an obstacle.

You’re a threat.

And Kisaki Tetta has never let threats live.

—

[Author's note: Hello everyone! I ended up finishing this chapter quicker than I expected, and I really hope you enjoyed it. More than that, I hope it made you reflect a little. Do you have any guesses about which love interest the next chapter will focus on?]

[gohan1]

[Chapter 32]

You were in your bed, lying stiffly on your back, your head buried in the soft curve of your pillow while your blanket clung tightly to your body like a shell. The room was dark and still, save for the pale blue glow of your phone screen lighting up your face, reflecting softly against the ceiling. Your fingers, trembling slightly from the cold or maybe from nerves—who could tell at this point—gripped the device tightly.

It was already well past midnight, and school was just a few hours away. You’d have to get up early, take that math exam in the first lesson, and pretend everything was fine. But that wasn’t why you couldn’t sleep. Sure, the thought of the exam made your stomach flutter a little. You had studied—hard. Day after day, solving problem sets until your brain felt numb. You understood the material. You should feel confident. You wanted to feel confident. You told yourself that staying calm would help your memory, that you believed in the work you put in. That’s what everyone says, right? Go in with a positive mindset. Believe in yourself.

But tonight, the nervous flutter wasn’t about numbers and equations. You weren’t staying up because you didn’t know enough. You were staying up because something else had taken root in your thoughts—something—or rather someone—you couldn’t stop thinking about.

Rindo.

Your eyes hadn’t left his name on the LINE app for hours. Not even to blink properly. You weren’t watching anime clips or scrolling through memes in an attempt to distract yourself. You weren’t even checking social media. No, you were doing something far more ridiculous—staring at his name, over and over again, watching it sit calmly beside the image of the purple-blue bellflower you had chosen to represent him.

The flower carried the same meaning as his name—subtle, cool, and somehow beautiful. You remembered the way his eyes widened when you showed him. How he’d given a faint smile and told you he liked it. And now, like an idiot, you were staring at it. Again. Still. For what had to be the hundredth time. You couldn’t explain it, but you were terrified that if you stopped looking—even for a moment—his name might disappear. Like the entire connection would vanish from your life if you blinked too long.

You were supposed to message him. That had been your plan the moment you got home. After your unexpected encounter with Sanzu at the convenience store and Mikey showing up out of nowhere, you’d promised yourself you’d write him a short message. Just a quick update. He had told you you could message him, after all. Explicitly.

But what if he didn’t really mean it? What if it was just a polite thing to say? What if you misread the situation? He was a delinquent. People like Rindo weren’t exactly known for sticking to formalities or subtle etiquette. If he didn’t want you to text him, he probably wouldn’t have bothered giving you his number in the first place… right? But even if that were true, the thought of annoying him made your skin crawl.

You didn’t want to be a bother. You didn’t want to seem clingy. You didn’t want to text him like some random girl who was looking for attention. You wanted to respect the fact that he let you in—even if only a little. And yet… if he truly wanted to talk, wouldn’t he have messaged you first? He doesn't seem like the shy type. Rindo isn't someone who hesitates. He is the kind of guy who could walk into a room full of gang leaders and not flinch. If he wanted to reach out, he would. So maybe the silence on his end meant something. Maybe that silence meant don’t bother.

Your mind twisted in circles as you typed the same message three different times.

You: Hey, Rindo kun. Today, I randomly met Sanzu kun at the convenience store and we started to talk, and then Mikey also showed up and—"

No. Too direct. Too much. 

Delete.

Try again.

You: Hello, Rindo kun! How are you?

Better. But somehow still not right. Too generic. Not enough personality. Not enough you.

You held your phone tighter, your thumbs hovering awkwardly above the keyboard for what felt like the hundredth time that night. You’d typed at least six different versions of a message already, only to delete them right after. None of it felt right. Everything sounded either too forced, too distant, or too random. You kept wondering—what kind of messages does Rindo even like?

Maybe he was the type who preferred people who didn’t waste time. Straightforward. Short. Clear. No extra small talk. He didn’t really strike you as someone who enjoyed long, drawn-out conversations just for the sake of it. If that was true, then opening with “How are you?” felt kind of pointless.

But then again, what else were you supposed to say? You couldn’t just drop a “Hey, I randomly ran into Sanzu and Mikey today and thought of you,” like it wasn’t weird. That would make it sound like the only reason you were texting was to report something to him. Like you were just passing along information. And that wasn’t it—not really. You wanted to talk to him. You didn’t know exactly why, or what you were hoping for, but you just did. 

The light from your phone was starting to sting. Your eyes were dry, tired. You could feel the burn behind them, like they were giving up on staying open. Your body was begging for sleep, your arms heavy, head sinking deeper into the pillow—but your brain wouldn’t shut up. And your heart definitely wasn’t helping.

You glanced at the clock again. 1:14 AM.

Ridiculous. You could’ve written a whole essay in the time you’d spent just thinking about what to text. And still, here you were, staring at a blank message box like it was going to write itself. You stared at your screen like a coward. Hours had passed. You couldn’t just back out now. Not after all this time. You took a deep breath.

Try again.

You: Hey, Rindo kun! Sorry for messaging this late. How are you? I hope I’m not bothering you. Just wanted to say I ran into Sanzu kun earlier today. Totally unexpected. Mikey showed up too and… well, we ended up talking for a while.

You pressed send.

And then immediately regretted it. Your heart started racing. Your chest tightened. He wouldn’t reply. It was too late. He’d be asleep. Why would anyone be online right now? You didn’t even deserve a response. You were just someone he casually met—someone unimportant. 

Short. Direct. Simple. You stared at the message for a second after it sent, then finally let your phone drop slightly onto your blanket with a small thud, your thumb still brushing over the screen. You felt kind of stupid for how long you hesitated. After all that overthinking, you finally sent just a few sentences. And then, not even ten seconds later, your screen lit up again.

You froze.

At first, you didn’t believe it. The notification bar flashed his name—Rindo—with a new message preview underneath it. You blinked fast, then sat up slightly, pulling the phone back into your hands like it could vanish if you looked away. You tapped it open immediately. You stared at those words for a few seconds, not really knowing what to do. It was only a few short sentences, nothing complicated, no emojis or anything, but it hit harder than you expected. Because he actuallyreplied. Right away. Like, immediately.

You were sure he’d be asleep. It was so late, and even though you knew he was the type to stay up late sometimes—maybe scrolling, maybe gaming, maybe just doing other things—you still didn’t think he’d respond. Not this fast. Not like he had his phone in hand already, like he’d been there the whole time. Like he was waiting for your message.

Your eyes widened. The breath caught in your throat.

Rindo: Hey. I'm good. What about you?  Your chat with this guy happened sooner than I thought. How was it?

You: Yeah, I was a bit surprised, but it was actually nice. Not as tense as I thought it would be. I remembered you said it’s okay to text you, so… here I am 😅

This is so awkward...and this fucking emoji. Seriously, you had better emoji options to choose from.

Oh God...

He’s typing.

The dots reappeared almost instantly.

Rindo: Look at you, following instructions. Nice. But seriously, I don't mind. You should’ve just texted. It’s not like I’d bite. Unless you sent me those chain messages with “send this to 10 friends or you’ll be cursed.” Then yeah, I’d ghost you instantly.

You chuckle quietly at your screen, but then your tone shifts. A slower breath. A moment of stillness before typing again.

You:  Good thing I’m not the type to spam cursed chain messages then 😂 Honestly though… I think if I hadn’t run into you that day in the city, I probably would’ve backed out today from talking to Sanzu kun. Even from Mikey. But something about that conversation with you helped me. Thank you for listening back then. Even if it didn’t seem like much. Also, I  think I should be asleep. I have a math test tomorrow. 

Rindo: Damn. I really am that good, huh? Why are you even still awake then? Trying to become a delinquent or something? Or was texting me worth risking your perfect little student image? lol

You actually laughed out loud.

You let out a breath—no, a laugh. A small, surprised, genuine laugh that escaped before you could stop it. Your hand flew to your mouth, but the grin on your face was already spreading. Heat rushed to your cheeks. He was teasing you. Rindo was teasing you. And it wasn’t cruel or distant—it was light. Casual. There was even a “lol” at the end. Rindo. Saying lol.

You stared at the screen, feeling your heart thrum gently in your chest. Maybe he wasn’t trying to keep you at a distance after all. Maybe… this was his way of keeping the door open. And suddenly, the room didn’t feel so cold. Suddenly, your nerves didn’t feel quite so heavy. You weren’t overthinking. Not anymore. You were smiling, because Rindo replied. Not out of politeness. Not out of obligation. But just because.

You took a breath. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. Ready to write back.

Your heart wasn’t filled with anxiety.

You: Busted. Guess I’m officially a delinquent now.  Might start skipping class and picking fights after this haha

Typing...

Rindo: Let me know first if you do. I’d pay to see that.

You stared at your screen again, warmth blooming in your chest and cheeks.

You: Ugh...You would waste your money haha. Anyway. Good night, Rindo kun :)

Rindo: Night.  Don’t stress about the exam.  You’ll be fine :)

You stared at the little smile he’d sent back.

It wasn’t even an emoji. Just a plain colon and a bracket. But for some reason, it made your heart flutter. It felt different coming from him... kind of cute. Like he meant it in his own way. You grinned a little at the message, then locked your phone and placed it next to your night lamp. You could’ve kept talking—honestly, you kind of wanted to—but this felt like a good place to stop.

The conversation hadn’t felt forced or too awkward. It was just... easy. Real. The kind of back and forth that made you feel like he was actually being himself, like he would’ve said the same things if he was standing right there in front of you. It reminded you of Mikey in a way. That same feeling—like you didn’t have to act different or hold back. You could just be. You pulled your blanket up a little higher and let your eyes close, finally starting to relax.

Then your phone lit up again. 

You thought it was Rindo texting you again.

Mikey: Hey. I just remembered you said you've got an exam tomorrow. You'll do great. Like always hehe.

You smiled. 

You: Thank you for remembering it. I will do my best 💪 Have a good night!

Mikey: You too, [Name]. If everything goes well with the test, you'll have to buy me some dorayaki 🤩

You stared at the message for a second and raised an eyebrow.

Technically, he should be the one buying you something sweet if your exam turns out well. You were the one stressing over formulas and staying up late to study, not him. But this was exactly the kind of thing Mikey would say—completely serious, yet so childish at the same time. You didn’t even bother arguing back. Instead, you sent him a thumbs up emoji and let out a soft chuckle as you rolled onto your side.

Mikey always acted like a kid around you. Whether it was demanding snacks or casually dropping by out of nowhere, he had this way of turning everything into something lighthearted. But even though he joked a lot and rarely seemed bothered by anything, there were moments when he surprised you—moments when he felt a lot more grounded and serious than people gave him credit for.

Like the time he hugged you.

You still remembered how sudden but natural it felt. Even now, lying under your blanket, you could still recall the exact feeling of it—his arms around you, calm and steady. That kind of warmth didn’t come from your blanket. It stayed with you, lingering longer than you expected.

And then there was that brief second at the park today, when the three of you sat on the bench—Mikey in the middle, Sanzu on his other side—and Mikey’s knee brushed lightly against yours. It was probably by accident, and you were sure he didn’t even think about it, but for some reason, your skin still remembered the spot. It had been such a quick, passing moment, yet it left a strange warmth there. Not overwhelming or intense, just... there.

You sighed quietly, setting your phone back down beside your lamp and finally letting yourself sink deeper into your pillow. The room was quiet again, and this time you didn’t check your screen when it dimmed. Between Mikey’s goofy message and that short conversation with Rindo, it felt like you had a little bit of normal in your night—something soft to hold onto before tomorrow came.

And honestly, that was more than enough for now.

You didn’t know, though. You couldn’t have known.

What you didn’t realize at the time was how fucking much you were going to miss this. How this simple, boring, late-night normal would start to feel like a luxury. Because shit was about to go sideways in ways you couldn’t predict, and no amount of preparation or instinct or gut feeling would’ve helped.

Moments like these—quiet, harmless, ordinary—would start to feel like they belonged to a completely different life. One that didn’t involve being dragged into someone else’s revenge plan. One where your name wasn’t suddenly tangled up with people like Izana Kurokawa, who had nothing left to lose and didn’t care who he shattered on his way down.

What he planned for you wasn’t clear yet. Not to you. Not to anyone. Not even to Mikey, who, if he knew even a fraction of it, would probably already be spiraling. But Izana wasn’t rushing. He was patient. Calculated. And whatever it was he wanted to do—to hurt you, to use you—wasn’t just about you. It was about breaking Mikey too. Turning him into something hollow. Something he could relate to.

Shit was going to hit you hard. And not in some movie-style, sudden moment of chaos. No—your life was going to unravel piece by piece. Slowly. Cruelly. By the time you realized just how fucked everything was, the damage would already be done.

People were going to lie to you. Not white lies, not harmless ones—real, dirty, selfish lies. The kind that would twist your stomach when the truth finally came out. The kind that would make you question everything you thought was solid. They’d smile to your face, pretend they gave a shit, and behind your back they’d be setting you up to fall harder.

Some would use you. Plain and simple. For information. For access. For leverage. Some wouldn’t even bother hiding it, because in their eyes, you weren’t a person. You were just a tool. And the worst part? A part of you might still care about them, even after everything. Still wish they weren’t like that.

Others? They’d hurt you. Not just emotionally. You’d get broken in ways you didn’t think were possible. You’d get pushed, cornered, fucked with. Your body, your mind—none of it would be safe. There would be hands that grabbed too hard. Voices that threatened when they didn’t get what they wanted. Bruises you’d cover up, not just on your skin but in your head, in your fucking heart.

They’d chip away at you. Bit by bit. Until you looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize your own face—not because it was physically different, but because the light in your eyes was gone. You’d still smile, maybe. But it wouldn’t be real. You’d laugh sometimes, sure. But it would feel hollow. Fake.

They’d corrupt you.

You wouldn’t be the same person anymore. They’d twist your sense of right and wrong. Force you into situations where you’d do shit you never thought you were capable of. And when it was over—if it ever really was over—you’d be left holding the pieces of the version of you that used to believe things could get better.

And somewhere behind it all, Izana Kurokawa would be watching. Letting the world fuck you up first, so that when hestepped in to finish what he started, you’d already be halfway broken. Because that’s what he wanted. Not just to hurt you. But to erase you. To use your suffering as the final nail in Mikey’s coffin. To destroy him by destroying you.

First, you had to survive what was coming next. The people you thought you could trust. The choices you’d be forced to make. The damage you wouldn’t see coming until it was already too late.

But that part? That storm? It was still far off. Other things were coming first. Smaller things. Ones that wouldn’t look dangerous at all until it was too late. People you thought you could trust. Situations that didn’t seem like red flags until they were already wrapped around your throat.

So tonight, you held onto the quiet. The texts. The laugh you gave Mikey’s message. The way Rindo’s reply made you feel just a little lighter.

Because you had no idea how badly you were going to need the memory of nights like this soon.

But before Izana ever gets his hands on your life, you’d have to deal with something—or rather someone—else first.

Kisaki Tetta

​​​​​​He didn’t need to break you. Not all at once. He just needed to bend you. A little. Then a little more. Until one day you’d look back and realize your choices hadn’t been yours in a long time.

And by the time Izana Kurokawa entered the picture?

You’d already be halfway gone.

—

[Author's note: Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Just to give you a little bit of orientation: we still have quite a few upcoming chapters focusing on the love interests who haven’t been in the spotlight much so far. And by “a few,” I actually mean a lot—so get ready for plenty of development before we reach the Christmas Showdown Arc, where Reader will find herself right in the middle of the chaos. Let’s see what’s waiting for her in the next chapters...See you soon!]

[gohan1]

Clarification

Hello everyone,

I wasn’t sure whether to include this as part of a chapter or just share my thoughts here, but I decided it’s important to clarify a few things directly.

As this story will have over 100 chapters, I want to explain the structure a bit. You’ll notice that the chapters don't switch between characters. Instead, the focus will stay with one character for several chapters at a time. This allows for deeper character development and gives Reader time to connect with each love interest on a more meaningful level. Also, not every chapter will revolve around the love interests. There will be moments centered on Reader’s personal life—interactions with family, friends, and inner struggles. However, even these parts will remain connected to the central relationships in subtle or direct ways.

I’m aiming for realism in the pacing of relationships. For example, a connection with someone like Chifuyu might develop more quickly due to his open and kind nature, while a relationship with someone like Izana, who has a complex and darker personality, will naturally take more time to unfold—hopefully in a positive direction. Reader will face emotional highs and lows, and yes, sometimes “go through hell” as well.

Living in the world of Tokyo Revengers is far from easy. These characters carry trauma, mental health struggles, and dangerous lifestyles. It’s important to acknowledge that delinquents—no matter how charismatic—can pose real risks, both emotionally and physically. Being close to them might mean becoming a target yourself. I want to be very clear: I’m not here to romanticize delinquent behavior. There are different types of delinquents in this universe—like Chifuyu or Takemichi, who are more morally grounded, and others like Izana or Rindou, who have twisted tendencies and violent pasts. Rindou might be charming and seen as “husband material,” but let’s not forget his juvie record and his disturbing enjoyment of hurting others (but yeah he is pookie).

And when we get to the Bonten arc, the tone will shift even more. I won’t shy away from serious topics like gang violence, drug trafficking, and prostitution—topics that, unfortunately, the anime tends to gloss over. These are real issues, and if we're going to imagine what it’s like to be in a relationship with someone like Bonten Mikey, we have to consider the darker implications, too.

This leads to something I feel strongly about: I do not romanticize toxic behavior.

However, since this story involves manipulation, Reader may see these behaviors as romantic, or may not recognize them as toxic—despite how clearly harmful they really are. Sometimes, the line between love and control can blur, especially in relationships shaped by trauma and instability. As Reader becomes more involved, she may even come to view manipulation, possessiveness, and control as signs of affection, or worse—proof of love. This is a reflection of how manipulation can affect one's perception.

For example, a man who “loves” you but wants to cut you off from your family, or who threatens—and even kills—your friends just to keep you close, is not romantic. It’s controlling. It’s abusive. Unfortunately, there’s a troubling trend in some fan spaces where such behavior is eroticized or seen as “proof of love.” Some readers may even find it sexually thrilling to imagine a gang leader killing in their name.

But let me be clear: this is not okay.

We cannot truly grasp what that situation feels like, and honestly—it’s better not to. It's a dark reality that should be approached with sensitivity and respect, not fantasy and fetishization.

So, to sum up: I’m here to write something real. Something raw. These relationships won’t always be happy or healthy—but they’ll be authentic. I want to reflect the truth that even love can become toxic, even protection can turn possessive, and even the most passionate connection can become a cage.

Thank you for reading, and thank you for approaching this story with an open mind and heart.

And obviously, thank you for sticking with me through this journey.

[gohan1]

[Chapter 31]

You finally knew the reason behind the incident—the real reason—and yet, instead of clarity or peace, your chest felt heavier than before. Like someone had tucked a stone behind your ribs. The truth was out. Mikey told you everything: the shattered Concord model, the argument, the rage, and the way it all exploded in one gruesome moment. You weren’t sure what you had expected when you asked for the story, but you hadn’t expected this—and you hadn’t expected to be such a key part of it.

Because even though it had been Mikey’s decision, even though the violence had come from his own hands, you couldn’t help but feel that if you hadn’t answered the phone that day… if you hadn’t existed so firmly in Mikey’s life, maybe Sanzu wouldn’t have suffered in that way. The guilt wasn’t sharp. It wasn’t cutting. It was something worse—dull and lingering, like fog in the back of your throat.

And still, Sanzu chose to stay by Mikey's side. That part, you couldn't understand. Mikey apologized to him...And maybe that was enough for Sanzu. He might be someone who forgives quickly. Or maybe he only forgives Mikey. Because there is something in the way he looks at Mikey that is different. Not soft, but not angry either. Just… resigned. Knowing.

It's possible that Sanzu understood something you didn’t yet. Something that, if you found out, would make everything fall into place. Or  you were just overthinking it—like you always did when something didn’t make sense, when something didn’t feel finished. But the truth is, you couldn’t stop the thought from looping in your mind: Why does he still stay? Why would anyone remain loyal to someone who tore them apart, even if it was years ago? Even if there were apologies. Even if it was in childhood. What kind of bond could survive something so raw, so violent?

And yet… Sanzu stayed.

Not with the eagerness of someone clinging to a best friend—but with the gravity of someone who chose to stay, again and again, like it was already carved into him. Maybe it wasn’t about forgiveness. Maybe it was about something else entirely. Maybe Sanzu had seen Mikey fall in ways you hadn’t. But it wasn’t your place to decide. If Sanzu wanted to remain by Mikey’s side after what happened—if he wanted to keep walking next to him, fully aware of what that path might look like—then that was his choice. His loyalty. His risk.

You just hope—quietly, desperately—that nothing like that ever happens again.

But hope is a fragile thing when the worst has already come and gone… silently, mercilessly, in a way that neither you nor even Mikey had realized when it first passed through his life. The most horrible thing had already happened. Not here. Not now. Not in this moment. It had happened elsewhere. In another version of time. 

The original timeline.

Because what Mikey went through—what he lost—was worse than what Sanzu did. And one day, when you learn the full truth, when you finally hear about the one moment that rewrote Mikey’s entire life… you were going to break. That much was already certain.

And Sanzu? He remembers everything. He is the only one who knows. The only one who lived through the fracture with full awareness, who still carries the unbearable knowledge of a world that broke Mikey beyond repair. That’s why he stays by his side, even now, even after the scars, the blood, the scream that tore through his own mouth like fire. Because forgiveness, for Sanzu, isn’t born out of kindness. It’s born out of loyalty to the version of Mikey who didn’t make it. To the version of Mikey who died in ways no one else will ever understand. 

And that knowing sits behind his tired eyes, beneath his silence, curled up like a sleeping curse he’ll never speak aloud—not even to you. And one day—when you finally learn what Mikey has forgotten… when the truth behind that other timeline finally finds its way into your hands—it will destroy you.

Because it’s not just a memory. It’s why he is the way he is. And it's why Sanzu will never leave his side. But that was not tonight.

Tonight, somehow, you ended up walking home with Mikey and Sanzu — or rather, they were escorting you home. Not that you asked for it. Mikey just decided, like he does with most things, with that carefree grin on his face that made it impossible to argue with him even when you wanted to. Without warning, Mikey stretched out a hand toward Sanzu. The platinum-haired boy blinked, utterly confused, like one of those anime characters with a floating question mark above their head. Then Mikey’s hand clamped down on Sanzu’s arm.

"What—" was all Sanzu had time to get out before Mikey yanked him upright with one sudden pull, like a sack of flour—which, frankly, wasn't hard at all (This guy weighs no more than a feather). His eyes widened for just a second, then returned to his usual half-lidded indifference, though you could hear the grumbling under his breath, muffled by his mask. He tried—really tried—to pry Mikey’s fingers off, but his grip was unmovable. Like trying to peel steel.

It looked ridiculous. Honestly, it looked like Mikey was dragging around a sulking little brother. Sanzu, with his shoulders stiff and lips pressed into a straight line under his black mask, let himself get pulled along, putting up the bare minimum of resistance like he had mentally accepted his fate.

"We can’t let [Name] wait" Mikey said, voice light with amusement.

"Wha—hey—Mikey!" Sanzu yelped, nearly tripping. He stumbled forward a step, jacket flapping awkwardly behind him. "I can walk, you know?"

"How can I be sure you won’t run away?" Mikey replied with an exaggerated pout, not even breaking stride.

You had been standing a few meters away, watching this entire spectacle unfold with your arms folded. It was awkward, but... also kind of hilarious. Eventually, they caught up, but you let them walk ahead of you, trailing a step behind and watching them from the back. Mikey still had a hand latched to Sanzu’s arm until the latter let out a sound — something between a growl and a sigh — and finally began walking on his own, stiff and annoyed. With a victorious smirk, Mikey released him.

Sanzu mumbled something beneath his breath—probably a curse or three—before straightening the collar of his jacket with a sharp tug.  His arms swung forward in stiff, robotic motions. But something about the way his hands moved—empty, swinging—made your brows furrow.

“Uh... Sanzu-kun,” you started, cautious but curious. His head didn’t turn, but you sensed his eyebrow rising — just like earlier at the convenience store. Speaking of which…

“I hope I’m not imagining things, but... didn’t you have a plastic bag with you before?”

His entire body went still. Like you’d hit the pause button. And then—so slowly it was almost comedic—he turned his head over his shoulder. The way his eyes met yours, wide with mild horror and dread, was enough to confirm it before he even spoke.

"...Shit," he muttered. It was the most expressive word he’d uttered all day.

You tilted your head, offering a gentle smile. "Maybe it’s still there, by the store entrance? We should go check, just in case."

“Too much time passed,” he replied flatly, already looking away. "Someone probably took it."

“That might be true, but… it wouldn’t hurt to look, right?” you tried again, scratching the side of your cheek nervously. "Can I ask what was in the bag?"

"..."

A long silence.

Mikey leaned forward eagerly. "Tell her, Sanzu. I’m curious too. I’ve never seen you look like you just lost your soul," he teased.

You swore Sanzu’s eye twitched. His head slowly turned toward Mikey, who stood beside him looking far too entertained.

"...Cheesecake."

The moment the word left his mouth, Mikey burst out laughing again, hands on his hips and throwing his head back.

"That was the whole reason you went in there?" he wheezed.

Sanzu’s eyes narrowed. "Yeah..."

"Then let’s go back and see if it’s still there," Mikey said between breathless chuckles. "Right, [Name]?"

“If it’s not there,” you added, almost instinctively, “I’ll buy a new one for you.”

Sanzu blinked. Slowly. As if trying to process your words like they were in a foreign language. He looked at you, visibly taken aback. His mouth didn’t move, but you could tell his eyes were saying: Why would you do that?

"You don’t have to," he said at last, a little stiffly.

"But I want to," you smiled. "Consider it a peace offering."

Hah?

Mikey grinned, sliding in between you and Sanzu. And without hesitation, he threw an arm over your shoulder and the other around Sanzu’s neck, practically pulling you both into his body. You didn’t resist, even though the move made your balance shift slightly toward him. Mikey had a way of doing that—making you feel like you belonged right there beside him, even if you didn’t expect it.

"Looks like we’re making a detour for cheesecake, then!" he declared proudly with a raised chin, his tone far too triumphant for someone who’d just manhandled his friend like a plushie.

“Mikey,” you said with a soft chuckle, nudging his side with your elbow. "The cheesecake is for Sanzu kun. I hope you’re not planning to steal it."

"Pfft," he pouted dramatically, releasing both of you and folding his arms like a child.

Meanwhile, Sanzu’s head turned sharply toward Mikey, completely judging. 

“Mikey…” he warned, voice dangerously calm.

“Relax, I won’t touch it,” Mikey said, rolling his eyes and his pout still firmly in place. Then, with sudden brightness, he turned to you and added with absolute sincerity, “The best cheesecake’s [Name]’s anyway.”

You blinked. And felt your breath catch. Your cheeks flushed before you could stop it. He wasn’t teasing. There was pride in his voice. The kind that curled around your ribs and settled there with quiet warmth. Even though Mikey was only praising your cheesecakes, it hit you harder than it reasonably should have. Maybe it was the way he said it—so confidently, so unbothered, like he hadn’t even considered it might fluster you. But the way your heart jumped in your chest, the sudden warmth creeping up your neck, you would think he'd complimented your smile. Or your laugh. Or the way you just exist beside him.

And that was the thing—he wasn’t even trying. He could casually say something sweet about your baking, and your brain would fill in all the blanks he didn't say, as if you were starving to hear them. And maybe, just maybe, a part of you wished he meant more than just cheesecake.

From beside you, Sanzu was silently observing. Not in an obvious way, but with the kind of peripheral attention that’s easy to miss unless you're looking for it. His gray eyes flicked toward you more than once, trying to figure out something he couldn’t quite name. You looked… happy. Like, genuinely happy just to be walking beside Mikey.

And that bothered him a little.

Not because he didn’t want Mikey to be around someone who made him laugh like that—hell, Mikey rarely laughed like this anymore. But because your face, flushed and glowing under the soft evening light, made him squint a bit, puzzled. You look like a tomato. Do you have a sun allergy or something? Or is it just warm?

Weird. You are weird. But not in the way he expected.

From the corner of his eye, he caught Mikey glance at you with a grin that pulled easily at his lips—so genuine, so light—and something shimmered in Mikey’s dark eyes. Something soft, maybe even... safe. Sanzu didn’t recognize it. Not because he hadn’t seen Mikey show emotion before—he had—but this one was different. Familiar, and yet unfamiliar.

He didn’t know what to make of it.

That’s when he realized: Mikey was also happy around you.

The weight of that thought settled in his chest, strange and uncomfortable. It shouldn’t have mattered. Mikey had every right to be close to whoever he wanted. But the invisible string between Mikey and himself—the one Sanzu had always clung to, the one that pulled taut through blood, war, and pain—felt like it was fraying, just a little.

Shouldn’t he be the only one Mikey looked at like that?

Sanzu’s gray eyes softened, mouth slightly parted beneath his black cotton mask as he struggled to understand what he was feeling. He wasn’t jealous (anymore). Or was he? Maybe not jealous of you, but of something unspoken that had grown between you and Mikey—something warm, effortless, and completely outside of his control.

That’s when your voice cut into his spiraling thoughts.

“Sanzu kun, now that Mikey actually mentioned my homemade cheesecakes…” you said with a gentle, hopeful tone, your eyes landing on him just as he had been staring at the both of you. “Would you also like to try them? Let’s see if Mikey is right in saying they’re the best, haha.”

He blinked, clearly startled. The question was simple, innocent. But it tugged at a thread in his mind.

He was suddenly back in Cozy Corner with Mucho, sitting at their usual table, when Mucho—leaning back in his chair and sipping on his drink—had looked at him and said:

"I wonder if you would also like her homemade cheesecakes."

It was just before Sanzu had seen you outside crossing the street. His stomach had knotted in disgust. Not because of the incident involving his scar—but because he feared what your presence would do to Mikey. To his place beside him. He had resented you then. You are a stranger and a risk. Someone who might steal the only person left in the world who mattered to him.

But now?

Now you stood there, not threatening, not posturing, just… offering something as "small" as a cheesecake. With a smile that dropped a little when he didn’t answer right away.

“Uhm... does the silence mean you wouldn’t want to eat them?” you asked, your shoulders slumping slightly, voice laced with a self-deprecating chuckle.

Even Mikey looked confused by his silence, glancing at him like, Dude, seriously?

Sanzu hadn’t even realized he’d been spacing out.

“Oh—uh, no. I think I could try them, I guess?” he finally muttered, voice low and awkward, as though he was answering a question much more serious than the one you’d asked.

He saw your shoulders lift slightly again. Your eyes brightened, the small, sincere kind of reaction that made him shift uncomfortably in his black leather jacket. Why would it matter to you whether he accepted your cheesecake?

He likes cheesecake. Obviously.

Even if it was your cheesecake—the one Mikey wouldn’t shut up about.

So… yeah. He would try it.

Maybe… maybe he could share Mikey with you. Just for a while.

Just long enough to understand what exactly Mikey saw in you. Just long enough to decide whether you were really worth the space you’d taken up in the strange, quiet part of Mikey’s heart.

You were a confusing person.

But maybe, through cheesecake... he’d understand.

After a while, the familiar silhouette of your house emerged at the end of the street. The walk had felt oddly short despite the detour—and maybe because the detour hadn’t been a successful one. Sanzu’s grocery bag, the one he'd left behind at the convenience store, had been nowhere in sight when you’d circled back. Just as he predicted, someone had probably taken it.

Your footsteps slowed as you reached your front gate. Mikey turned to you first, the streetlight catching a warm glint in his dark eyes.

“Take care, [Name]!” he said brightly, throwing a wink as he spoke, his grin stretching wide enough to wrinkle the corners of his eyes.

You returned the smile without hesitation, the warmth of his voice lingering. “You too, Mikey,” you replied, your hand on the gate, lingering a moment longer than you needed to. Then your gaze shifted to his right—to the quiet figure standing just a step behind.

“And Sanzu kun, too,” you added with a softer smile, tilting your head slightly.

Sanzu blinked, startled out of his thoughts. His eyes met yours briefly—just a flicker—and his lashes fluttered once as he gave a short, almost reluctant nod. “Mm,” was all he said, the sound quiet, almost carried away by the breeze.

He wasn’t sure why his chest felt a little tight just then. Maybe it was the remaining embarrassment from the missing cheesecake—or maybe it was something else entirely. Something about the way your smile brightened when you said his name. He wasn’t used to that.

You hadn’t said much when you all discovered his plastic bag was long gone from the front of the convenience store. No teasing. Just that calm suggestion—“Well then, I guess I really have to bake that cheesecake for you now.” You said it so lightly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I’ll let you know when the cheesecake is ready,” you said, your voice laced with light cheer. As you opened the gate and disappeared inside, Mikey stayed just a second longer, his hands shoved into his pockets, before glancing sideways at Sanzu.

“You know…” Mikey murmured under his breath, not looking directly at him, “you don’t have to glare every time someone’s nice to you.”

Sanzu didn’t answer right away. He just let out a low breath and looked down at the sidewalk.

But as they turned and began walking again—away from your door—he said, half to himself:

“…I didn’t glare.”

"Oh really? I’m bad at judging people’s facial expressions,” Mikey said, laughing for the third time already. He threw a glance at Sanzu, grin stretching wider. “I just wanted to sound smart. You know—just once."

Like Kisaki.

Sanzu scoffed under his breath, clearly unimpressed, and shook his head as he began walking again beside Mikey.

Meanwhile, you had just stepped inside your house, the cool air greeting your skin as you closed the door behind you. You slipped off your shoes with a tired sigh, the events of the evening still lingering in your chest. You were still thinking about it when your mom’s voice floated in from the kitchen, light and casual at first:

“Darling, welcome ba—” Her head poked out from the doorframe, her eyes narrowing the moment she saw your empty hands. “... [Name], where are the groceries?”

You froze mid-motion, halfway through unzipping your jacket.

“Oh... my god,” you muttered, face crumpling in delayed horror. “I forgot the groceries.”

Your mom blinked. “You what?”

You groaned and dragged a hand down your face. “It wasn’t on purpose! I ran into... ugh…” you hesitated, your brain short-circuiting as your mouth nearly blurted out Sanzu. But that name would definitely raise questions — too many questions.

So you fumbled for the safer option. “I ran into Mikey.” (which isn't really a lie) "And we ended up walking home together and I just... totally forgot what I came there for in the first place.”

“Apparently so,” she muttered, retreating back into the kitchen with a chuckle. “No buffet for today, I guess.”

You could hear your father’s voice in the background, sounding more serious than he usually did. “I can live with that. And actually...For a second, I thought that [Name] ran into... What was his name again?", he thought for a moment. "Rindo? The one she saw half-naked.” He let out a deep sigh, overwhelmed that his innocent daughter saw something like this. “I approve of Mikey as your childhood friend, but other boys should stay away from you.”

You stiffened at the mention of Rindo’s name, but quickly masked your surprise. Of course, your father wouldn’t approve of Rindo (are you sure, girl?), but it was weird that he was even bringing him up. It wasn’t like you had mentioned Rindo recently. The truth is that your mother, and even your father, would be happy with Rindo—probably more than you realize. Your mom might even wish she was young again (lmao). 

For now, though, it's best if you keep it to yourself that you meant a new boy called Sanzu, and that you've recently gotten Rindo's phone number... By the way... You should send him a message to let him know that things went okay between you and Sanzu.

—

[Name]: Maybe Sanzu is just a very forgiving person.

Sanzu: *beats up his younger sister with a metal pipe

[Name]: Alright, I take that back.

Also Sanzu:

[Name]: How about I bake you some cheesecake?

Sanzu: Okay, we’re friends.

[gohan1]

[Chapter 30]

"I’ll explain what happened. But you have to promise me that it won’t change anything between us. That you’ll still be my friend."

Your breath hitched in your throat.

It wasn’t the words that made your heart pull tight. It was the way he said them—like they cost him something. Like he was scared they wouldn’t be enough to keep you from walking away once you heard the truth. You opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came out at first. Because even though you wanted to know the truth about what happened with Sanzu—the incident no one ever really explained, the one that had haunted you since you were kids—Mikey’s request felt heavier than anything he’d ever asked of you before.

Mikey never asked you for assurances. He never had to. You’ve always been honest with him, and he knows that you’ll stay true to your words, even when it’s hard. You were there the day Shinichiro died. You came every afternoon, hands full of offerings you didn’t know how to give—food your mother made, small distractions you hoped could stitch something whole again from what was left. You stayed longer than you needed to because you knew they needed someone. Because family wasn’t always the people you were born to—it was the ones who didn’t walk away.

You never really wondered why Mikey and Emma weren’t working or if they were having money problems; you just thought maybe they were getting by with what little they had, like the small amount of money from his grandfather’s dojo, though you weren’t sure if that was enough. If they had really been struggling, you’re sure they would have asked for help—because you would have been there for them right away.

After his brother’s death, you told Mikey, with all the conviction you could muster, that he had to promise to always stand by Emma’s side, since he was her only family now, with their grandfather growing older and uncertain of how long he’d be around. You made a silent vow yourself—to stay close, to support them as a true friend. That was your promise, born from genuine care. But now, Mikey asks for a promise—perhaps the first true, pure request you’ve ever heard from him—and it threatens to change everything. You fear it might push your friendship into uncharted territory, shadows of doubt creeping in. Yet, even as you hesitate, you remember your childhood vow—to be his friend, unwavering, no matter what.  

You can’t ignore the weight of the secret he carries. You want to understand him—once you hear his truth, you won’t turn away, won’t resent him. And seeing how desperately he clings to your support, how much he needs your friendship to remain intact...You have no choice. You must promise him.

Your throat felt tight, but you nodded slowly.

“Okay,” you said softly. “I promise.”

Mikey’s shoulders sagged, just slightly—like that one word lifted something off his chest.

There it was again—the version of Mikey he never let anyone else see. It was the version of him who needed someone. Who depended on others. On you. It was the version of Mikey who was vulnerable. The one who wasn’t the leader of anything. The one who wasn’t the invincible Mikey, or the boy everyone followed without question.

No—this was Sano Manjiro. Your childhood friend.

The breeze was starting to cool off a bit as the minutes went by, your hair gently moving in the soft, pleasant wind. Mikey kept looking at you, but this time his gaze was filled with a quiet relief—just a little, but enough to make him seem a bit lighter about facing you on such a sensitive topic. He tilted his head toward the glow of the convenience store sign above. Honestly, talking right here in front of the convenience store didn't feel all that "convenient" at all.

Mikey glanced down the street, then gave a small nod, as if he’d made up his mind. "There’s a park nearby, and it doesn’t look like there are many people around. Maybe we should go talk there instead of here, where people keep coming in and out," he suggested, turning his eyes back to you and silently waiting for your go-ahead.

You followed his gaze and nodded. "Sure," you said with a tight-lipped smile. Mikey stepped closer to you, walking past and softly signaling for you to follow. He still had that gentle smile on his face, but it wasn’t bright or carefree—it was mixed with concern and a touch of sadness. You could tell he was worried about how you might react. Still, you promised him you’d stay his friend no matter what, and he believed in that—that you wouldn’t hate him once he told you the truth. Still, some part of him was scared about what you'd say.

As you two walked down the sidewalk, the store’s fluorescent lights stretched behind you, and your footsteps echoed softly. But after just about ten steps, you hesitated and looked back—

“…Wait. Why isn’t Sanzu kun coming?”

You turned around again and saw him still there, leaning against the wall like he was part of the building itself (Sanzu is so flat, he's practically flatter than a door lmao). His arms are crossed, while his eyes are cast downward. His bright bleach-blonde eyelashes flutter as his long hair gently sways with the breeze.

Mikey didn’t stop walking, but he sighed quietly, like he expected that question.

“I didn’t tell him to come,” he said in a monotone voice, shrugging his shoulders.

You stopped. “But… this involves him too, right?”

Mikey finally halted beside you. His gaze softened—not annoyed, not dismissive. Just thoughtful.

“I know,” he admitted with a sigh. 

You frowned slightly. “ I want him to come. I want to talk to him.”

That made Mikey blink. He looked at you now—really looked. His brows lifted the tiniest bit, not expecting that answer.

“…You sure?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I mean—if that’s okay with you.”

Mikey let a breath out, then turned slightly on his heel.

“Sanzu.”

His voice had a commanding tone, as if he was the one controlling Sanzu's actions and, eventually, his emotions—something you'll understand better later on. He will start to influence Sanzu’s feelings towards you, trying to get closer to you himself and keep you apart from Sanzu, so you wouldn’t develop a stronger bond. After all, Mikey is the only person you truly need in your life...Right?

Sanzu’s gaze lifted slightly. He hadn’t moved much, but he had been listening. You knew it. His shoulders tensed the moment you spoke his name.

“Come with us,” Mikey said. “She wants to talk to you too.”

There was a pause. Just a beat or two.

And then—

“Yes, Mikey.”

Sanzu pushed himself off the wall slowly, standing upright in a way that made the shadows fall differently across his face. His expression was still, almost curious as his eyes flickered between the two of you. He followed—steps light, soundless even on the pavement. He didn’t walk beside you, but a few paces behind, like a ghost keeping pace with your shadows. Quiet. Always watching.

You glanced over your shoulder once, just briefly.

His expression wasn’t annoyed. It wasn’t hostile. If anything… it was confused. He couldn’t understand why you weren’t asking for time alone with Mikey. You said you didn't want to take Mikey away from him, but deep down, don't you feel it might be better to talk in private with him?

You stepped into the grass, your shoes brushing against it as you followed Mikey toward a bench tucked beneath a big tree. The leaves draped like curtains, curling shadows over the three of you as if the tree itself meant to give privacy to your conversation. Mikey didn’t sit right away. He stood for a moment, looking at the sky through the leaves. He looked so much younger in that moment. The streetlights softened the edges of his face, catching in the strands of his blonde shoulder-length hair. 

Then he sank onto the bench with a long breath, elbows resting on his knees.

You sat beside him quietly. And a few seconds later, you heard the footsteps stop behind you. Sanzu didn’t sit. He stayed standing—hands linked behind his back, not far from the bench, watching from the corner of your eye like he wasn’t sure he should even be included.

Mikey noticed it too. “You can sit,” he said, voice casual but not cold.

Sanzu didn’t reply, but after a second, he moved to the edge of the bench beside Mikey, sitting with his body turned slightly away. Not hostile—just guarded. Closed off. But present.

Ugh...this is awkward. The silence that followed stretched out longer than you expected. 

You broke it first, softly. “Mikey… you said you’d explain.”

His jaw tensed slightly, and then he nodded. He kept his gaze low, focused on the edge of his sneakers.

He took a deep breath, folding his hands together. You both hadn’t even noticed that you were actually sitting pretty close to each other, with some space left empty on each side of the bench. If you just moved your leg a little, it would touch his. You couldn’t help but wonder—what would it feel like, to have his warmth ripple through your body? The tenderness of that long, lingering embrace at your place still echoed in your mind, but now, your imagination clung to the thought of a simple touch—the faintest graze of his leg against yours—and you thought if that small, electric moment could ignite a fire in you to make you melt.

“You remember that day,” he said after a long pause. “When I called you about the Concord model? I was in fourth grade. You were what… fifth?”

You nodded, already feeling your heart twist at the memory. You weren’t sure why, but it had stayed with you all these years — the excitement in his voice, the way he had told you to come over right away. You’d been curious, sure, but mostly? You’d just wanted to see him happy. That was always your favorite thing.

“Shinichiro made that plane for me,” Mikey said, his voice a little far-off now. “It took him a whole month. It wasn’t even for a birthday or anything...He just did it. He was always so careful with the details, you know? He even painted the logo by hand."

You gave a small smile, bittersweet. “That sounds like Shinichiro.”

“I wanted you to see it first.”

Your breath caught slightly.

“Why me?”

"Because you…" he hesitated, eyes flicking down with a shy smile. "You always see the value in the things I care about, like they really matter." He rubbed the back of his neck, a small genuine smile spreading across his face. "Even that old blanket I still carry around from when I was a kid. You never made fun of it, unlike Emma," he added a little sheepishly.

You didn't say a word. You just listened, your hands nervously holding onto your pants, and your face was a little red.  

He kept talking.

“But that day... before you came over, Sanzu approached me." Mikey's expression darkened, eyes drifting. "He was annoyed that I was gonna let you play with it when he couldn’t. He said we’d been friends longer and that you were probably only pretending to care because I was strong or cool or whatever."

Ouch.

"He had been making comments like that for quite some time. Because of that, we argued a lot." Mikey muttered, "I kept telling him he was wrong and that you're different."

He ran a hand through his hair, pushing back the blonde strands that fell into his eyes.

"After I called you, I stepped out into the hallway and took a few minutes outside to clear my head. I was pretty upset because of the argument I had with Sanzu. I guess I needed some space to cool off. And when I got back, I found the plane shattered on the ground, and someone told me it was Sanzu. That really made me mad because I felt like he did it on purpose to get back at me for hanging out with you. Honestly, I lost my temper and ended up hurting him while he was playing outside with Baji—even though he didn’t even touch the concord model. Ugh...you saw how badly I hurt him. When Sanzu was in the hospital, I apologized to him, and he still wanted to be friends afterward. I know apologies don’t fix everything, but we’ve managed to move past it since then."

Why did Mikey tell Sanzu to laugh after ripping his mouth open? How could he do that? This is beyond normal—it's utterly insane. And what could he possibly say in his defense? But what haunts you even more is the fact that Sanzu didn’t even lay a finger on the toy plane when Mikey walked away. That means the person who told Mikey Sanzu broke it...

was lying.

It can’t be Baji because he was with Sanzu playing in the yard, so he couldn’t have done it. Plus, Baji reminded you of this incident at the café. So...Who else would lie to Mikey? And why? Does this person maybe hate Sanzu and want to make him look bad? Even though Sanzu was punished for something he didn’t do, he still forgave Mikey for treating him badly. That’s really surprising. Why would someone forgive something like having their mouth torn open and getting scars? If someone did that to you, you probably wouldn’t want to stay close to them anymore, even if it was Mikey. This whole situation just doesn’t seem normal. The good thing is that Mikey never hurt anyone that badly again, and since he would especially never hurt you, that makes it a little easier to deal with.

Yeah, he would never hurt you.

“So what do you think, [Name]? Are you scared of me?” he asked nervously, tilting his head to the side with curiosity. His stomach felt weird and tight, kind of like he was worried you might resent him, even though you had already said you wouldn't.

You paused, considering the question. "Strangely enough, I’m not sure. Obviously, you did something terrible, but you haven’t done anything like this to anyone else since then. I think maybe you were just overwhelmed as a kid. That doesn’t excuse what you did, but it might’ve made you act without thinking. And since Sanzu-kun forgave you... I think everything is okay, I guess?’”

Mikey gave a faint smile, but it quickly faded. “Actually…”

His words faltered, hanging in the air. There was something he wanted to say—you could feel it. But Mikey swallowed it back down. You didn’t press him. Maybe it wasn’t something he needed to share, or maybe he couldn’t just yet. But you would wait for him, whenever he was ready.

Sanzu sat motionless on the left side of Mikey, while you occupied the right. He seemed like he wasn’t even really there, his face blank and expressionless as he listened to your conversation. When there was a pause, only the chirping of different birds could be heard, and the sky was starting to turn orange as the sun went down. Before you knew it, Sanzu looked up with his gray eyes, blinking and making his long lashes flutter. He looked back and forth between you and Mikey, but his gaze stayed on you a little longer than it had before.

You noticed he was looking at you. You tried your best not to show that you felt his eyes on you, but you knew you had to do something because you had asked Mikey to bring Sanzu along so you could talk to him. You needed to let him see that you noticed, since you wanted him to be part of the conversation. You didn’t want to seem like you were trying to avoid him. In fact, you really wanted to talk to him and even apologize properly. So, gathering your courage, you slowly turned your head toward Sanzu while Mikey sat between you, deep in thought. When your eyes met Sanzu's, you managed a gentle smile, the best you could. Sanzu looked a little confused again, blinking a few times as he tried to understand why you were smiling at him.

You turned to Sanzu, your voice dropping to a softer, more uncertain tone. “I’m sorry… for being in the way. I hope you can forgive me, even though I didn’t really know what was going on. I didn’t mean to make things worse."

His mouth tightens behind his mask. His gaze shot over to yours, and you could see the surprise flicker across his face. It was like he wasn’t expecting that from you, and it made your heart skip for a moment. Sanzu didn’t answer right away. His lips parted like he might say something, but he hesitated, almost like he was weighing his words. Instead, he just let out a breath and gave you a small nod—barely noticeable, but enough to let you know he wasn’t holding it against you.

There wasn’t hatred there. Not anymore. Maybe it was something close to forgiveness.

"…I was jealous," he finally said, almost ashamed. “Of you.”

Oh yeah, that’s no longer a surprise. Rindo quickly realized that Sanzu was feeling jealous of you after you explained things a little. It didn’t take him long to understand what was happening. Maybe you should write to him and let him know he was right—that the conversation actually went pretty well. Even though you think he is a busy person and don’t want to bother him. But he told you it was okay to write... Maybe he was just trying to be kind, but you appreciate it all the same.

The sun had dropped lower, casting soft golden light over the park—its edges blurred by the trees lining the paths. The playground nearby sat quiet, a few creaks from a rusty swing the only sound besides distant cars.

"There’s no reason to be," you said, offering a soft chuckle. "I’m sure we can both share Mikey." You glanced toward your blond-haired friend with a playful smile. "Right, Mikey?"

Mikey leaned back on the bench, his arms resting on the backrest, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I know I’m popular, but please, don’t start a fight over me," he replied with a chuckle. Sanzu just snorted softly in response, giving an eye-roll so dramatic you’d think his eyes would pop right out of his skull. But even with that, there was still a smile playing on his lips, and you could tell from the way his eyes crinkled that he was genuinely amused behind his mask.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you shift your weight toward Sanzu—who’s lounging casually on Mikey’s left.

“Oh, and Sanzu-kun,” you begin, forcing a confident smile. “I really like your leather jacket. It’s super stylish.”

Sanzu’s brow furrows as he fiddles with the zipper. “Ugh…thanks, I guess? It’s Captain’s jacket. He gave it to me as a present.”

You swivel back to Mikey, beaming. “Wait, Mikey—you actually gave him your jacket? That’s such a nice way to show your appreciation.”

Mikey blinks like you’ve just sprung a pop quiz on him. Before you can ask further, Sanzu snaps, “Tze, I mean, it’s Mucho’s jacket.” He crosses his arms and looks a little defensively adorable...

Did you just think that he is adorable? What the heck?

Your face drains. "Oh god, I’m so sorry!" you gasp, pressing your hands to your mouth.

Sanzu scratched the back of his head, his fingers awkwardly tangled in the strands as he tried to mask his embarrassment. Mikey, on the other hand, explodes into laughter—his shoulders shaking as he practically falls off the bench.

You glance between them, cheeks flaming and half-cringing.

Send help, bro.

[gohan1]

[Chapter 29]

"It’s because of you that he did this to me."

His voice lingers like smoke—sharp, suffocating, impossible to breathe through. It echoes in your skull, relentless, like it’s carved into the bones behind your ears. The words bleed through every crevice of your mind, replaying in a haunting loop that drowns out everything else.

Your breath catches. And then refuses to come.

Air feels like fire now—each inhale burns and doesn’t reach your lungs. Your chest caves in with invisible weight, your heartbeat hammering in your throat like it’s trying to claw its way out. Your legs tremble, knees locking like you’re about to collapse right where you stand. There's pressure in your head, building behind your eyes, throbbing behind your temples like the panic is trying to shatter its way out of you.

Oh shit.

You’ve never experienced a panic attack before. Sure, back when Kiyomasa tried to hurt you, fear overwhelmed you, but what you’re feeling now is something else entirely—it’s a whole new level. It seems a bit ironic, too, since Sanzu isn’t hurting you right now, yet you feel like you could faint at any moment. Watching his gaze linger on you is completely devastating.

His long eyelashes fall like a curtain over his eyes. 

Even behind the black mask that veils the lower half of his face, you feel it. That quiet cruelty. That silence that isn’t empty, but full—full of things unsaid, full of venom. There’s a tension in his presence that warps the air around him like heat rising off asphalt. He doesn't move, doesn’t speak again, just watches you unravel like he’s done this before.

Mikey ripped his mouth open. Because of you. Ugh...what the fuck? And he said it like it meant nothing. Like it was just fact. Just history. But Sanzu’s eyes—those cold, steel-gray eyes—don’t match his tone.

They burn.

They dissect you.

Sanzu doesn’t flinch when people break. He studies them. And now, you’re the specimen.

You try to swallow, but your throat is sandpaper. Your mouth won’t form words—only shaky breaths and thoughts too loud to make sense of.

Why?

Why would Mikey do something so... monstrous? It’s baffling to think what could trigger such an extreme reaction, and the idea that this incident is somehow linked to you is even more confusing...more heartbreaking. Why would he hurt Sanzu—his friend—and why would you be the reason?

The guilt starts somewhere in your chest, then spreads, hot and heavy like tar. It oozes into your lungs, your stomach, your spine. You feel sick. You feel like you’re rotting from the inside out. You force yourself to look at Sanzu again, hoping—praying—for a sign that maybe you misunderstood. That maybe there’s something else in his eyes other than ice and accusation.

But there’s nothing. Just that eerie calm. That soul-deep quiet. And it’s more terrifying than if he’d screamed at you. If he’d grabbed you, shook you, made you pay for what he believes you caused. But he doesn’t. He just stands there, still as a corpse, watching while your world tilts off its axis.

It made your stomach twist in ways you couldn’t describe. And somewhere deep inside you, a horrible thought began to bloom—Was he enjoying this? Was that flicker in his eyes… satisfaction? The question hit you like ice water to the spine, shame crawling down your neck. No. No, that couldn’t be it. Could it?

But maybe it wasn’t satisfaction. Maybe it was closure. Maybe, watching you fall apart was the first time he felt understood. The first time his pain wasn’t invisible. Maybe this wasn’t about hating you. Maybe this was the only way he knew how to survive it. Still, it stung. The look in his eyes—the apathy.

You can’t help it—you start to wonder if he wants you to fall apart. If he finds something satisfying in watching you squirm, in seeing your guilt bloom across your skin like bruises. You hate yourself for even thinking it. But there’s something about him—something twisted beneath the surface, something fractured, dangerous and beautiful all at once.

You clutch your arms, nails biting into skin, just to keep yourself grounded. No one ever warned you that guilt could feel like drowning. No one ever told you how quiet rage can be. And Sanzu... he doesn’t rage. He just exists like a wound that never closed. Like something carved open too early, stitched up wrong, and left to fester in the dark.

"Mikey was obsessed with you."

His voice is calm—so calm.

"And I paid the price for it."

You flinch.

The words feel heavier than a punch. And when you meet his eyes again, you see it—just for a second. A flicker. A flash of something real beneath the frost. Pain. Maybe even betrayal. But it’s gone before you can name it, swallowed by the mask and the silence. And now you don’t know what hurts more:

What Mikey did.

Or that Sanzu will never forgive you for it.

You feel like a crime scene.

You might not know much about Sanzu—not really. Especially not the version of him that existed back then, before the scars, before the silence. You weren't there the day his smile was stolen from him, torn open by the hands of someone you call a friend. But what you do know is this:

Mikey has always been there for you, helping you build your confidence and standing up to bullies for you (which you appreciated). You owe him so much. But you can’t—you won’t—forgive him for this. You cannot accept what Mikey did. He hurt his friend. And not in some petty street-brawl way. Not a punch. Not a shove. But something grotesque. Something deliberate. Something... personal.

It haunts you.

The truth is twisted and buried and still bleeding somewhere beneath years of silence, but the aftermath is standing right in front of you. Dressed in a black mask. His pain is no less real just because it happened years ago. It's stitched into every sharp breath he takes. And yet... he still stands beside Mikey.

Why? Why follow someone who shattered you? Why stand beside the boy who carved your smile into a scar? And if he believes you were the trigger—if your presence made Mikey snap—then why isn’t he angry at him? Why is all that pain pointed at you?

None of it makes sense. But the silence between you speaks louder than the chaos in your mind. You want to ask what really happened. You want to understand. But part of you is terrified to know. Because if the truth is as horrible as the ache in Sanzu’s voice, then it might be too much. You might not survive it.

But you also know this isn’t the end. Something deeper is buried beneath that day—beneath Sanzu’s wound, beneath Mikey’s rage, beneath your shared history. Something unspeakable. And maybe... just maybe, uncovering it will ruin you. But you have to know. You have to speak. Even if your voice is broken. Even if Sanzu’s stare makes your blood run cold. You’ll face him. You’ll find the truth.

Even if it takes a lot of bravery to face him.

Even if it shatters everything.

This all ties back to the moment during Shinichiro Sano's second time leap.

The thought nearly made you lose it completely. But something inside you snapped. You couldn’t let him see you fall apart—not like this. You forced yourself to take a breath, shaky and shallow, your body drenched in cold sweat as you tried to pull yourself together. His gaze never left you. You searched his face for any hint of compassion, a sign that he didn’t mean it—that he didn’t mean to accuse you. 

He had blamed you. For the suffering. For the pain...What if he wanted to hate you just to make sense of his suffering? But what if… it is your fault? Would Mikey really go that far? Would he hurt his own friend because of you? And worse… for you?

Your knees nearly buckled. You swallow hard, your voice trembling as it finally finds its way past the tight knot in your throat.

"Why…" you begin, your words barely above a whisper, "why did Mikey do that to you?"

Sanzu doesn’t answer.

His gaze drops to the floor, then slowly trails back up to meet yours. Cold. Detached. Unreadable. That damn black mask hiding whatever twisted expression might be hidden beneath it.

You try again, firmer this time. “You said it was because of me. That Mikey ripped your mouth open because of me.”

Still, silence.

But there’s tension now. Thick. Suffocating. The kind that sits in your lungs like smoke and makes it hard to breathe. You take a step closer.

"Tell me, Sanzu kun...please," you say, voice cracking with desperation. "If I caused this...I need to understand."

He tilts his head slowly, the movement oddly calm, too calm. His long lashes flutter once behind the silky strands of his soft, bleach-blonde hair as he stares at you, unblinking. Then he speaks, his voice low, almost bored.

"It doesn’t matter anymore."

You blink, completely confused. "What?" 

"How it happened," he says. "Why it happened. Who made it happen. It won’t change shit now."

"But I—"

He cuts you off. "It’s done."

"Sanzu ku—"

"That's enough." His voice is razor-sharp now, dripping with venom under that mask. “I won't forgive you...and I won’t forgive her, either.”

You freeze.

Her?

The word slices through the air like a blade, and your stomach sinks.

"Who?" you ask, stepping forward. "Who are you talking about?"

But he doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even acknowledge the question. Instead, his eyes narrow, something mean and tired behind them.

"You had the perfect chance," he murmurs, almost to himself, but loud enough for you to hear. "Back then, when I treated you like garbage… when I ignored you, snapped at you, made you feel like nothing…"

You inhale sharply, remembering the cold glances, and the cruel words.

"You could’ve told Mikey," Sanzu continues. "You should’ve told him. That would’ve been enough. Enough to win Mikey over completely."

You shake your head, feeling the first sting of tears gather in your eyes. "I wouldn't…"

He scoffs. “Why not?"

"I don't want your friendship with Mikey to end...because of me."

He flinches, just barely, like your words hit a nerve he didn’t expect to be touched.

You go on, voice trembling. "Mikey is your friend. And he is important to you."

His eyes flicker. Just for a second. The coldness wavers, like something beneath it stirs—confusion, maybe. Or something deeper. Something he doesn’t know how to name. You step closer, cautiously, like you’re standing in front of a wounded animal who might still bite.

“But even after everything,” you whisper, “I wouldn't destroy your relationship with him."

He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move. You dare to take another step, your voice softer now. Your gaze focuses on his black mask, or rather, on what lies beneath it. You’ve only caught a glimpse of the deep crimson red at the corners of his mouth when the injury was fresh, leaving you curious about the scars you haven't seen yet. 

"Does it… does it still hurt?"

His eyes meet yours. For once, they don’t feel empty. They feel tired.

And without looking away, without any theatrics, he says:

“Not anymore.”

It’s quiet. Flat. But it’s honest.

You stare at him, not knowing what to say, not knowing what he means—if he’s talking about the scar, or something deeper than that. But the stillness in his eyes tells you all you need to know.

It doesn’t hurt anymore… but that doesn’t mean it healed.

And maybe—just maybe—it never could.

Sanzu’s eyes linger on you. You don’t dare speak again just yet. One wrong word and the whole moment might shatter. While he’s still looking at you like that—like he’s trying to hate you, but he’s too tired to keep holding the knife to your throat.

And then—

"[Name]?"

The voice slices through the air like a blade. You freeze. You know that voice. Too well. Your eyes snap to the side, and there he is.

Sano Manjiro.

Mikey.

The neon flicker of the convenience store sign buzzed faintly overhead, casting an artificial glow across the sidewalk. And the street was mostly empty. You stood close to Sanzu, your body still pulsing with adrenaline. He leaned against the side of the convenience store’s wall, mask hiding the bottom half of his face, shadow painting him in cold stillness. And then there was Mikey—standing just a little further off.

A shadow half-devours the angles of his attractive face. His hands are in the pockets of his black hoodie, but he isn’t slouched. He isn’t grinning. He’s not messing around or making some dumb joke. He’s… stiff. Eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to read the scene in front of him like a book with pages torn out.

His gaze darts from you to Sanzu and back again.

"What’s going on?" he asks, his tone calm, but laced with something beneath the surface—concern, maybe. Or suspicion. It’s hard to tell with Mikey. He always knew how to hide things behind a veil of nonchalance, but tonight, the veil is thinner. "You both look like something happened."

Your breath hitches. You hadn’t even heard him approach. Sanzu doesn't move. Not a twitch. He’s quiet, composed. You glance at Sanzu, then at Mikey. Your voice trembles—but only for a second.

You take a step forward—just one—and Mikey’s gaze sharpens.

“Mikey…” 

He blinks once, and then straightens a little, brows pulling together.

"I want to know," you say, surprising even yourself with the firmness in your voice. "Why did you do that to him?"

Sanzu’s head slowly turns toward you. And for the first time since this whole conversation began—he looks genuinely surprised. But also startled. His mouth doesn’t move beneath the mask, but his eyes widen, like he wasn’t expecting you to be this brave, this direct. His voice is sharp, quiet but charged with panic. "What the hell are you doing?"

But you don’t stop. You can’t. You look Mikey dead in the eye.

“Why did you rip his mouth open?”

There it is. Spoken into the open. Mikey blinks once, twice. His expression doesn't shift—but you notice the slight tension in his jaw. Not dramatically. Just enough to notice. But the tension spreads across his shoulders, stiffening his spine, his posture growing heavier with something unreadable. Regret? Anger? Shame?

"...What are you talking about?" he asks, though his voice is softer now. Hesitant.

You hold your ground.

"His scars. You did that to him, didn’t you?"

Mikey's gaze darts to Sanzu, something flickering in his eyes.

"You told her?" he asks, his voice a murmur of disbelief.

"I didn’t," he uttered, voice flat. "She figured it out herself."

Mikey started walking toward him.

One step. Then another. And then his pace picked up.

You didn’t need to ask—you already knew what he was thinking. How the hell would you have known about that incident if Sanzu hadn’t told you himself? If this was going to be the thing that ruined his friendship with you, then Sanzu had crossed a line. And from the way Mikey moved, it was clear he had no intention of letting that slide.

You noticed too late how serious it had gotten. Mikey’s whole energy shifted, and you could tell this wasn’t just a warning or an argument waiting to happen. He was ready to hurt him...again.

Sanzu didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. He didn’t even try to defend himself.

He just stood there behind you, silent.

Not because he was scared—but because he never even considered fighting back. He had no right to. Not against Mikey. That was just how things were. Mikey was his king. No matter what happened between them, no matter what pain was buried in the past, that fact never changed.

If Mikey wanted to hurt him, he’d take it. Simple as that.

That was the loyalty Sanzu had chosen a long time ago. And in his mind, it wasn’t up for debate.

But what neither of you expected... was you stepping in.

Quickly, you moved between Mikey and Sanzu, holding out your arm behind you as if that would somehow be enough to stop Mikey from getting past you. You didn’t even look at Sanzu—you just kept your focus on Mikey. Your hand stayed firm, like you were shielding Sanzu. Like you were protecting him

Even if it was kind of stupid. Like, what were you actually going to do if Mikey really wanted to get through? There was no chance in hell you could stop him. Still, you stood there anyway. It was...confusing.

Mikey stops in his tracks. His hands hanging at his sides.

"I saw it happen."

The words fall from your mouth easier than you can think.

Both of them freeze.

Sanzu's gaze pierces through you, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and disbelief. In that breathtaking moment, it dawns on him—Mikey does not know that you witnessed what happened on that day.

"You… what?" he says, quieter now, almost breathless.

You swallow the lump in your throat, heart pounding, but you don’t look away.

"That day. I saw it... Sanzu kun just told me it was because of me."

There’s silence again. Mikey’s shoulders stiffen. The shadows in his eyes grow darker. Not angry. Just... heavy. Burdened.

"[Name]," he says carefully, "that was a long time ago."

"That doesn’t answer my question."

You surprise yourself again—your voice sharp, demanding. Unlike you.

And Mikey notices.

He’s looking at you like he doesn’t recognize you. Like he’s trying to make sense of this version of you that’s suddenly not standing quietly behind him.

"You’ve never talked to me like this before," he murmured, his voice soft, not accusing, not cold. His dark eyes, usually half-lidded with boredom or clouded with something unreadable, now lifted fully to meet yours, completely focused. There was no irritation in them, no offense taken. Instead, a flicker of something subtle crept across his face—curiosity, maybe. Or something warmer, something almost like admiration. His brows furrowed faintly, not in anger but in surprise, and the corner of his mouth twitched—like he was suppressing the urge to smile. Not a happy smile, but one of recognition.

Your throat tightens. "I’m sorry," you say, your voice softer now, almost trembling. “I’m not trying to be disrespectful… I just—” You pause, swallowing hard. "It’s killing me, knowing he was hurt because of me. I need to understand why. I need to hear it, or I won’t be able to live with it."

Mikey looked you up and down, not with judgment, but with something closer to realization. You were standing straighter than usual, your jaw set, eyes firm despite the slight tremble in your shoulders. This wasn’t the version of you he was used to. This version of you held your ground. You were trembling, yes—but you were still standing.

And Mikey saw that.

He tilted his head slightly, the muscles in his neck shifting with the motion, and for a beat, he simply watched you. His arms were still at his sides, fingers curling loosely, not in threat, but in thought. The soft neon glow from the convenience store behind you painted his features in flickering hues—one second, cool blue shadows outlining his cheekbones and the edge of his sharp jaw, the next, a wash of pale yellow revealing the faint sheen of sweat on his brow. He blinked slowly, lips parted just slightly, like he was trying to find the right words but didn’t want to break the moment too soon.

“You’re different,” he said finally, his voice low, almost reverent. “Stronger.”

There was no mocking in his tone. No smirk playing on his lips. Just quiet awe.

You're a bit taken aback by that conclusion, but you manage to smile and appreciate the observation, even while wondering to yourself if you really are stronger. Mikey softly smiles back, and then his lips press into a thin line. He turns his gaze slightly toward Sanzu again, but his expression is blank, jaw tight beneath the mask.

"Sanzu—"

 "It doesn’t matter anymore," Sanzu interrupts him.

You glance at him, seeing the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers twitch like he wants to reach for something—someone—but won’t let himself.

You approach Sanzu, seeing desperation in his gray eyes to end this unpleasant conversation.

“Even if it doesn’t matter anymore… it still happened.”

Pause.

The quiet is louder than anything.

And you’re standing in the eye of a storm that hasn’t touched down yet.

Mikey slid his hand over his shoulder-length blonde hair, fingers dragging through it in a nervous motion. His gaze dropped for a second, lost in some memory that pulled the light right out of his eyes. Then he looked back at you—more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him.

“[Name],” he said, voice lower now. “I’ll explain what happened. But you have to promise me that it won’t change anything between us. That you’ll still be my friend.”

There was a kind of quiet desperation in his words, the kind that made your chest ache. Whatever he was holding onto—whatever secret he was about to share—it wasn’t easy for him. And that made it all the more real.

Will Mikey reveal the truth?

—

[Author's note: Hey everyone. I hope you enjoyed this new chapter. I had a lot on my mind while writing, especially about how the scene would play out between Sanzu, Mikey, and Reader. I was a bit unsure if I captured Sanzu's character correctly, but I picture him like this when he was still wearing his black mask. He was a quiet guy, more of an observer, which might have been a way to hide his madness. Sanzu is a complicated character, and I believe he could react in many different ways, but I decided to portray him like this. I hope you think it fits him too. I might change a few things in this chapter later, but for now, I’m relatively content with how it turned out. See you in the next chapter!]

[gohan1]

[Chapter 28]

What kind of punishment is this? 

You had a great time with Rindo, even if it was just half an hour. The way he spoke to you really helped boost your self-esteem. It's funny how someone you've only met twice could make you feel so good about yourself in such a short time. Meanwhile, your parents have worked hard over the years to help you feel more confident. You might feel a little bad about how easily Rindo impacted you compared to all the love and encouragement your parents have given you. But for some reason, Rindo's words just hit different. The way he talks to you feels like magic. He even randomly patted your head and called you a good girl, which made you feel stronger and ready to stand up for yourself.

Even when you had that deep conversation with him about Sanzu and told him that Mikey, the leader of the Tokyo Manji gang—the invincible Mikey—is your friend, he didn’t hold it against you. You were worried there’d be some awkward tension between you two or that he might even think of you as an enemy, but none of that happened. He doesn’t have any issues with Toman right now, and even if a conflict arises, he made it clear that it wouldn’t involve you at all.

But Rindo remains blissfully unaware… He does not yet fathom that you are about to get caught up in one of the biggest conflicts ever. He doesn't grasp that Izana's interest in you will be anything but benevolent. Never, ever. He will be fixated on you—and not in a good way, not at all. It's better for Rindo not to know what Izana is capable of compared to what he saw all those years ago in the detention center.

And you... you don't want to think about the dark and dreadful future that looms ahead. So maybe, just maybe, it is a good idea to soak up every bit of joy in your life.

While you still can. 

Because you never know when that huge conflict might strike. And when it does, it definitely won't be a fleeting nightmare or a haunting dream; oh no, it will be a brutal, unyielding reality that leaves no room for escape.

You are such a wonderful person, so kind and considerate of others' feelings. You always think carefully about how your words or actions might affect someone else, and you want to be treated with the same kindness you received from your parents. Yet, despite the glowing praise and admiration from everyone who knows you, a storm brews within you—a troubling doubt that gnaws at your essence. If you truly are a good person who deserves to be happy, why do you keep facing so many challenges? What have you done to deserve the pain and humiliation you experience? Shouldn't good people like you be blessed instead? 

So again, what kind of punishment is this?

Why is Haruchiyo Sanzu standing right in front of you?

You stepped out of your house for just a quick trip to the convenience store down the street. Your mom just realized she was missing a few ingredients and asked if you could grab them while she got started on the other dishes, hoping to save some time. Since it was such a short walk, you didn’t bother spending too long getting ready. You figured there was no need to “make yourself pretty” for a quick errand.

Now, though, you're really regretting that decision. Sure, you didn’t have much time to think about what to wear, but at least a quick fix to your hair would have made you feel a bit more presentable when stepping out. You usually don't care too much about what strangers think, but Sanzu isn’t just any stranger—he has a bit of a negative view of you already. Walking out looking like you just rolled out of a trash can definitely isn’t helping his opinion of you.

Honestly, you don’t even want him to like you; you just wish you could understand why he hates you so much. He’s pretty open about it, which has made you question what you might have done to make him react that way. Rindo brought up an interesting point—he thinks Sanzu might be a extremly jealous of your friendship with Mikey. He picked up on that just from hearing your ramblings.

When the doors to the convenience store slid open and you spotted Sanzu standing there with a white plastic bag in hand, your mood instantly plummeted. You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious as you compared his look to yours. He wore some well-fitted gray pants paired with a sharp black belt and a crisp white shirt that had sleeves just above his elbows, showing off his soft, light skin. And to top it off, he had a stylish black leather jacket draped over his shoulders.

And then there you are in your baggy joggers.

His long bleach-blond hair fell just enough to hide his ears, and of course, he was wearing his black mask, making it hard to see his face—just those striking gray eyes peeking through with those fluttering lashes. As he narrowed his eyes in annoyance and tilted his head slightly, you could tell he was probably cursing himself for picking this store, not expecting to run into you again. After all, how could he have known he'd stumble upon you, of all people? A fucking little brat.

You’re feeling that familiar knot of fear about what he might say to you. It’s like your heart stopped beating and your feet turned to ice. You didn’t even respond to the cashier’s warm greeting—normally, you would have shared a smile as you walked in. Then, when Sanzu stepped outside and you found yourself right in front of him, it felt like the world fell silent. You were just standing there, battling an inner panic as you imagined the hurtful things he might throw your way, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. What if he called you homeless for stepping out like this, which is unusual for you? Or worse, what if he said something hurtful like calling you an insect, a pest, a stupid little bi-

Wait—he’s walking by? He brushed past you without so much as a glance, striding to your left with an expression that made it seem like you didn’t even exist. It was like he’d completely forgotten the annoyed look he had just a moment ago when your eyes met for that brief second. Now, you found yourself looking down at the ground, trying to avoid his gaze (not that he was even looking at you) as he walked away, casually with a plastic bag in one hand and his other hand tucked in his pocket as if the moment of confrontation had never taken place.

You made a promise to yourself—and to Rindo—that you’d look up to Sanzu when you saw him again. You were even feeling pretty determined to have an open conversation to clear up the misunderstanding between you two. But who would have guessed that this moment would come so soon, just a few days after discussing it with Rindo? You really wanted to think about what to say to him. In fact, you considered jotting down some notes to organize your thoughts, aiming to make sure things didn’t get worse between you. Ideally, you thought it would be better to invest some time over weeks to prep for this chat, but here you are, faced with him way sooner than expected!

You’re just standing there, frozen like a statue, totally unable to even watch him leave. 

Honestly, even if you had spent weeks preparing for this moment, practicing what to say in your head, it wouldn’t really feel like a genuine conversation. It’s also crucial to think on your feet and be ready for whatever responses might come your way because you can’t predict how someone will react. Conversations are all about the give-and-take, especially when it’s a tricky situation like this one; things can escalate really quickly if you say the wrong thing. Right now, you’re super nervous about saying something that might make Sanzu even angrier with you.

You found yourself in a bit of a dilemma, trying to figure out what's worse: receiving a rude comment from him or being completely ignored. At least with the comment, you know he's acknowledging your existence, but being ignored stings even more and can really get under your skin. It's frustrating to think that he treats you like you’ve done something wrong when you actually haven’t. Ideally, it would make sense for you to just walk into the convenience store and act like he doesn’t matter, but deep down, you genuinely want to understand what’s bothering him. A kind-hearted person like you deserves recognition, right? You are definitely not invisible.

You’re a real person with friends and family who care about you, and you have your own worth, even if he seems to overlook it. You’re determined to make your presence known because you refuse to let him treat you like you're not worth a second glance. Sure, finding the courage to speak up is a bit daunting, but if you want to clear the air, now might be your only opportunity. After all, how often do you get a chance to talk to him? You definitely don’t want to have to ask Mikey to intervene, as he’d catch on to the tension between you two.

Fuck this shit. This is my only chance.

"Can we...talk, please?" You turned your head back nervously to catch his attention, watching as he walked further away, his long bleach-blond hair swaying gently with his movements. He didn’t stop or even turn to see who was calling him. Maybe he didn’t hear your soft voice or simply didn’t realize you were talking to him. But the truth is, Sanzu heard you loud and clear, even if your voice was barely above a whisper, almost breaking under the weight of your nerves. Still, he wasn’t really in the mood to talk to you, and truthfully, he felt like he’d never want to again. 

He remembered how he had lost control that day when he saved you from those hoodlums. It infuriated him that you seemed so important to Mikey, especially since you barely knew him compared to how long Sanzu had been around. What was it about you that caught Mikey's attention so quickly while Sanzu had been struggling for years? Though he’s the vice captain of the fifth division, he couldn’t recall the last meaningful interaction he had with Mikey, other than that brief moment they shared together after all those years—right before they ran into you. 

Seeing the spark in Mikey's eyes when he laid eyes on you made him feel sick. He was so frustrated by someone he deemed an annoying little fly that he couldn’t even enjoy his time at Cozy Corner with Mucho, knowing you were out there when he glanced out the cafe window.

One question nagged at him: Why didn’t you mention to Mikey how rude he had been to you? He couldn’t deny that he felt a twinge of regret after you hurried off with tears in your eyes—not because he didn’t want to hurt you, as he believed you deserved it, but because he worried you might tell Mikey and he would further push him away. Yet, somehow, Mikey never brought it up. It didn’t make sense to him. Wasn’t this your chance to drive a wedge between him and Mikey? So why didn’t you say anything? That thought lingered in his mind. He didn’t want to show his curiosity, but he really wanted to know why you didn’t try to destroy their relationship, which had always been complicated.

"Sanzu kun" 

Your voice calling out to him finally snapped him out of his thoughts, stopping him in his tracks. He still had his back to you, but at least he finally heard you. Maybe it was the newfound confidence in your voice when you said his name that caught his attention. But what the hell did you want to say? Were you going to remind him that Mikey valued you more than him? Whatever you had to say, he was hoping to finally get an answer to the question that had been bothering him for so long.

Yeah, maybe it’s okay to talk.

He let out a deep sigh and turned his head slightly in your direction while still being a few meters away. His narrowed gray eyes seemed to see right into your soul. After a moment, he finally shifted his body to face you, though he stayed put at a distance. Feeling a bit bold, you decided to take the first step and slowly walked towards him, nervously gripping your joggers to muster the courage to engage with Sanzu. When you finally stood in front of him, you made sure to keep a little distance—after all, you didn’t want to invade his personal space, and honestly, being too close made you even more jittery. You were just a bit shorter than him, but he felt so towering, almost like a giant like Hanma. The way he looked at you, with his brow slightly furrowing as if in disgust, made you feel like a tiny ant. At least he hadn’t said anything rude...yet.

"What?", he said, a bit harshly, clearly eager to wrap up the conversation and dive into those delicious packed cheesecakes from the convenience store in his plastic bag. He knew they couldn't compare to the amazing ones from Cozy Corner, but he was still excited to try something new. As he watched you, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of curiosity about the homemade cheesecakes that Mikey raves about. What made them so special? Is there something about your cheesecakes that has Mikey totally smitten? (He knows it sounds silly, but he just can’t shake that thought)

You pressed your lips together, feeling a bit nervous, but then you took a deep breath right in front of him. It was clear you were feeling anxious about confronting him, but just like that, after a few calming breaths, you felt completely at ease again. You met his gaze without hesitation. Sanzu's eyes widened for a brief moment, not really noticeable, and thanks to his black mask, you missed the slight parting of his lips—just a tiny crack—as he took in your change in demeanor.

"I don't want to take up too much of your time, but there's something that's been bothering me..." You paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. But you decided you didn't want to beat around the bush. So, you came right out with it.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

He was surprised by your directness. You made sure to keep your gaze on him, and you looked...upset. Sanzu couldn't help but wonder why you seemed so concerned about his feelings, especially when his hatred is justified.

After all, you did this to him.

"..."

"Sanzu kun, I really don't want to pressure you into talking, but I feel like I deserve to know what’s behind this. Do you think... maybe we actually met years ago? I can’t think of any other reason for someone I barely know to feel such strong hatred towards me without any interaction. Ugh... I hope you can see where I’m coming from and why I’d like you to share more about this." You took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice, fighting the urge to shake, as you struggled to seem innocent of any wrongdoing.

Inside, you were grappling with the unsettling knowledge you had learned from Baji—that Sanzu was the boy you had seen many years ago when Mikey hurt him, and you hadn’t helped... Could he really recognize you from that moment? Did his anger stem from the fact that you ran away instead of helping him, even though you were just a scared little girl yourself? Sure, Mikey had already injured him, making it impossible for you to do anything, but maybe he still feels hurt for not having anyone stand by his side. You really hoped, more than anything, that he wouldn’t say he remembered that day when you came to the Sano family house and witnessed such brutality.

You prayed so hard.

Sanzu let out another sigh, clicking his tongue in annoyance. He rubbed the back of his head, and his irritation was clear as day on his face.

"Do you really want to know?"

You nodded slowly, a lump forming in your throat as you braced yourself for what he might say. "I really need to know so I can fix this," you said, trying to steady your voice.

"Fix this, huh?" he echoed your words with a dry chuckle that caught you off guard. After a moment's reflection, he added, "Even though you can't fix it?" and lifted his head slightly, his gaze focused on you.

It felt like your breath had completely left you, and it was hard to take in any oxygen. Yet, somehow, you found the strength to give a slow nod, doing your best to hold back tears even though you couldn’t quite catch what he wanted to say. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he was about to bring up how you hadn’t helped him when the corners of his mouth were bleeding like a crimson waterfall, droplets hitting the ground—a memory that played back in your mind like a looping video.

"Alright... so what if I say that you're the reason I have to wear this?"

Your heart sank, and your mind raced. Fuck fuck fuck. You anticipated him saying that, yet here you were, seemingly caught off guard. What worried you even more was his tone; he wasn’t angry or upset—he seemed so empty. There was a void in his expression, his eyes devoid of any feeling, even more than before.

"S-Sanzu kun..." you managed to stammer, tears welling up. "I-I had no idea Mikey would go that far... By the time I got there, it had already happened. I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop him..." You choked on your words, your lips trembling uncontrollably, "Your mouth was already...," you gulped, tears streaming down your cheeks, "Your mouth was already ripped."

.

.

.

But hold on—something wasn’t right here. Despite the shock spinning in your head, a part of you was still clear enough to think. The incident with Mikey and Sanzu happened before you arrived, so it’s not on you to have prevented it. It isn’t your fault someone else is hurt. It already happened. Yes, it already happened. And clearly, it wasn’t you—it was Mikey who caused this. So, it’s his fault Sanzu has to wear a mask; you had nothing to do with it. You're innocent. You really are innocent!

But wait—are you really innocent? You think you are because you’re unaware of the whole truth. You haven’t grasped what truly went down. And as you caught a glimpse of disbelief in Sanzu’s eyes—not because of your tears, but because... you actually witnessed it. 

"You saw it?" he mumbled, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Was it nice for you to see me like this? It must have been good to watch me struggle because of Mikey's obsession with you" Sanzu said, feeling the anger building up inside him. Honestly, you were surprised he hadn’t slapped you yet. It was probably because he didn’t want to get in trouble with Mikey for hurting you. Still, part of you wished he would. After all, you had ignored his tears, and Mikey had even forced him to smile after he went through so much pain. You really hoped this was the last time you saw Mikey act like this. Like a monster.

You couldn't understand why you should feel happy about seeing Sanzu in so much pain. This is so sick. Absolutely sick.

"Why would I want to see anyone suffer?" you said, shaking your head vigorously, your eyes still red and puffy from all those tears. "And what do you mean by Mikey being obsessed with me?" you asked, feeling completely overwhelmed by this unsettling conversation.  

His gaze pierced through you, a fierce intensity mingling with disdain, utterly unbothered by the sight of the shattered girl before him—tears cascading down your cheeks, your face streaked, raw, and vulnerable.

 "It's because of you that he did this to me."

Oh fuck.

It’s entirely your fault that Sanzu is left with these scars on his mouth. If only Mikey hadn’t crossed paths with you, if only he hadn’t let your presence seep into his life, Sanzu wouldn’t be drowning in this pain. Just like Sanzu said, you can’t mend the wounds of his suffering. You can’t erase a scar that’s already marred his face. The only thing that you could do was care for him and show him that you were sorry, even though he would never forgive you. You are the only cause of his pain.

Yeah, you deserve his hatred.

​​​​​​—

[Author's note: Hey everyone! I hope you liked the new chapter. The next one will also focus on Sanzu and Reader, but someone is definitely going to interrupt them... and I think we all know who that is. Let's just say things won't go smoothly. See you in the next chapter!]

[gohan1]

[Chapter 27]

When Rindo said that you seem like someone who gets along with people, it made you feel good. You only walked for about 20 minutes and didn't talk in depth, but he could still sense your personality. You think he really pays attention to people.

Even though you felt happy, there was another feeling lurking inside you. It was a deep bitterness that made you want to laugh out of sheer frustration.

If you are really on friendly terms with everyone, then why does Sanzu seem to dislike you so much? Why is he an exception? It’s even worse that you have no idea why he feels this way, leaving you completely confused about his feelings. What did you do to him that made him act so rude? 

Sanzu’s words echoed in your mind, sharp and stinging, as he hurled insults that dug deep into your heart.

"You cannot get affection from Mikey, so you probably seek it from others. Such a pathetic move, so typical of women."

“Mikey wouldn’t care if you were humiliated by those strangers.”

“I bet you even enjoyed being the center of attention for those people."

Seriously, who would enjoy being bothered by awful people while just trying to walk down the street? Why should you feel happy about being stared at like you’re just something to play with? Is it too much to ask for the simple freedom to wander through life without the stifling weight of unwanted attention and harassment?

You haven't spent much time with Sanzu, but just his few comments were enough to make you want to keep your distance. You felt sure that if you stayed even a minute longer, things would get worse, and he would throw even more nasty insults your way. You were really relieved that you had walked away from him and that you hadn’t told him where you lived. You worried that if he knew your address, things could get even scarier.

He’s the first person who seems to really hate you, and that’s why you aren’t sure how to handle this kind of situation. You used to think it was normal for people to like you because of your kind personality and how much you care about others, always trying to make them happy. But later, in your second year of middle school, you realized you were the only one putting in that effort. Your friends appreciated how much you cared, but they didn't really try to do the same for you. You're not hard to make happy—your parents can make you smile with simple things like watching movies together or having dinner. Even though they treat you like a princess, you're not spoiled like some other kids.

Since this is your first time facing a conflict, you feel like you need to talk to someone who knows how to deal with situations like this.

Talking to your parents about the issue feels impossible because you can't directly tell them that Mikey's friend treats you like shit. You are concerned they might ask Mikey about it, and you fear that, in the worst-case scenario, they could blame him for spending time with Sanzu.

But the truth is, it's not Mikey's fault; he doesn't even know that you had another encounter with Sanzu and Mucho. You haven't mentioned to him that Sanzu helped you out when some other gangsters were bothering you, unless Chifuyu told him who it was. When Mikey came rushing to your house, he didn't bring up Sanzu. You vaguely remember him saying he knew someone saved you, so you're guessing Chifuyu kept Sanzu's name out of it.

You might feel tempted to talk to Mikey instead of your parents. It makes sense since your parents aren't involved and you don't want to drag them into this. Mikey isn't directly part of the issue either, but he’s friends with Sanzu. While Mikey could potentially talk to him about his awful behavior, you realized this might...backfire. 

You really don’t want Sanzu to end up hating you more if the reason Mikey starts to pull away from him is because of you. You’re unsure if Mikey thinks more of you than of Sanzu, but you suspect he might be a little upset with him. And honestly, it’s very wise of you to consider this, since if you're the reason Mikey distances himself from Sanzu, you would be as good as dead. But it’s probably best not to know what Sanzu might do if it's your fault that Mikey hates him. He could come after you, and it wouldn’t be pretty. You wouldn’t want to imagine the worst that could happen...

He would hunt you down with his katana and cut you right through the throat without mercy and would leave your corpse hidden under a tree with no one to find you.

As you thought about Chifuyu for a moment, you start to wonder if he’s the right person to talk to. He’s in the same gang as Sanzu, so he might know more about him. Maybe Baji even mentioned him to Chifuyu. If Baji were still here, you wonder what advice he would have given you. He probably would have told you not to get mixed up with Sanzu, even though you didn’t want to in the first place.

Now, Chifuyu is the only person you can turn to, but you’re worried that talking to him about Sanzu might remind him of Baji. After all, you’ve discussed Sanzu with both Chifuyu and Baji...before he passed away. Though your time with Baji was fleeting, his kindness left a profound mark on your heart. You find yourself clinging to the hope that he has found peace now.

Chifuyu is younger than you, so you're not sure if he knows how to give good advice. (Just a heads up: he's actually not very good at it and might suggest you give dorayaki to Sanzu, which wouldn't turn out well.) On the other hand, Rindo is around your age or maybe even a bit older, which makes him more grown-up. You think Rindo has a better approach to handling situations like this.

From what you've seen, he seems like a really good person to talk to. He hasn't been rude to you and you feel like he treats you as an equal, unlike Sanzu, who clearly looks down on you (for now). So, it might be a good idea to ask Rindo for advice. You have nothing to lose, and it could be interesting to get the perspective of someone who doesn’t know the person you’re having a conflict with. The worst that could happen is that he might say he's not interested in helping, but it would still be nice to have someone who simply listens to you.

"Rindo kun...I'm not sure if it's okay to ask you this, but could I get your opinion on something? I'm dealing with a conflict with someone for the first time, and I really don't know how to handle it. Honestly, I don't even have a clue why this person dislikes me. So, uhm...I was hoping you could share some tips on how to make things better between us."

You felt a bit hesitant as you walked alongside Rindo. You didn't want to trouble him with what was bothering you or make him upset, so you hoped he would take it well.

When you glanced up at him, you saw him drinking from an energy drink that he was holding. Wait a minute... He didn’t have that drink earlier. Did he buy it while you were busy thinking about your issue with Sanzu? You couldn’t believe you were so lost in thought that you didn’t even notice what Rindo was doing right next to you. 

"I'm okay with it. I'm not sure I can give you advice on how to improve relationships since it's not something I've dealt with much. But since I am so amazing, I should be able to figure out why this person...hates you."

Your eyes brightened as you looked at his calm face. Even though he wasn't showing any emotions, his voice was comforting as he took a moment to respond.

"Thank you so much! I... uhm, I'm not really sure how to begin, but there's a boy who helped me out a while back when I was in trouble with a big group of hoodlums."

Rindo took a long, thoughtful slurp from his drink.

"...He must be a capable fighter."

"Well, he's one of the vice-division leaders of a gang, so I guess he's good at fighting..."

Rindo's demeanor shifted. He paused mid-sip of his drink, with his mouth slightly agape, while his expression remained inscrutable.

"I had met him before, even though it was just for a short moment and we didn't really talk." You added, directing your gaze downwards rather than at Rindo.

"But he still saved you." He chose to take a sip from his energy drink again, but this time he was taking bigger gulps and lifting the can to his mouth to finish it off.

"I guess it's because his leader is one of my best friends," you explained, looking up at his purple eyes and tilting your head a bit. "Have you heard of Toman?"

.

.

.

He began to choke on his drink, coughing while covering his mouth.

"Rindo kun, are you alright?!" Your hands moved around nervously, and your eyes got wide from surprise.

"...I'm okay," he replied after a brief pause (Poor Rindo nearly died lmao). His throat hurt a little from coughing too much, and he even spat out a bit of the energy drink, trying to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand.

Rindo is completely stunned right now. He just can't wrap his head around it. You're friends with...him? You even called him your best friend. So you must be really close to Mikey, right? But are you both really talking about the same person? It seems impossible that someone as innocent as you would be involved with Mikey. He's starting to wonder if he heard you wrong.

"Yeah, I know about Toman. In fact, everyone knows about that gang, especially since Mikey has been such a hot topic lately," he said with a little laugh, thinking it’s pretty funny to ask him that. Since he's a well-known delinquent himself, of course, he knows a lot about other hoodlums and gangs.

When you heard Rindo mention Mikey's name, you couldn't help but feel excited that even someone like Rindo knows about him. "Do you know Mikey?" you asked, eager to hear what Rindo would say.

"I wouldn't say we really know each other, at least not personally, but I did see him in a fight against another gang once. I was curious about how it would turn out, so I watched it," Rindo said with a slight shrug.

When he thinks about that fight between Toman and Valhalla, he recalls how Mikey nearly killed someone. He doesn't judge Mikey for what happened; he was actually thrilled to see something intense and different. At least he saw how the guy with the long black hair got killed. Rindo never expected anyone would die in that fight, and surprisingly, another person almost died too. However, just when things were getting exciting, an annoying little brat interrupted the moment.

He still wonders how you can be friends with Mikey because he is so different from you. It's as if you’re living in two worlds, the contrast as sharp as day and night. Do you actually know that your so-called best friend almost killed someone? Would you still be Mikey's friend if you knew about that? (probably yes) Or are you actually so sick in the head that you would not even mind it? (we need to find out)

When Rindo heard the sound of your voice, his thoughts were interrupted.

"I'm having a hard time picturing that... so two gangs were fighting, and you just sat back and watched like you were...uhm...at a show?"

"Yeah, that’s right," he chuckled softly.

"Did you happen to see someone wearing a black mask and having long, bleached blond hair?" you asked, your lips pressed into a tight line.

Rindo adjusted his round glasses and looked directly into your eyes. "There were so many people; it was really crowded. It was hard to see and keep track of everyone since they were all moving around during the fight. So, no, I don't remember seeing anyone like that, but there were a few people wearing masks," he said calmly. "Is that the person you're having a problem with?"

You nodded, your eyes reflecting a hint of sadness as you considered whether to share a little more about what you were going through. Rindo had already reassured you that he would lend you an ear, and he even mentioned wanting to help figure out why Sanzu seemed to harbor such animosity towards you. Maybe there was something you hadn’t noticed, and Rindo might be able to shed some light on the situation.

"You know, at first, I thought the cheesecake was the issue, but he said it was fine. But then again, it was from Cozy Corner, and everything there is delicious. That was when we first met. The second time I saw him, he was out on the street with Mikey, and even then, we didn’t really talk at all—not even a little bit. And like I mentioned before, later on, there was that situation with the other hoodlums where he came to save me."

Rindo blinked.

"The...cheesecake? Ugh, never mind. So your issue with him is just that he doesn't talk to you?"

"Rindo kun, I haven’t finished yet," you pouted a bit. He gazed at you with a puzzled look, but he stayed quiet, hoping that you would get to the point. He couldn’t help but smile a little because you crossed your arms as if you were upset with him for interrupting (even though you had finished your sentence).

"On the day Sanzu kun helped me when someone was about to attack me, he was with the leader of his division. The leader asked him to make sure I got home safely since it was getting dark. Honestly, I was a bit at a loss for words—I didn't want to have too much interaction with him because Baji had warned me to keep my distance for my own safety. I still don’t quite understand why I should stay away; I just heard that Sanzu kun is a bit 'insane.' I didn't get the chance to ask for more details, and now I can’t since Baji...passed away after a fight," you said, trying to push down the lump forming in your throat. "Sanzu kun said some...ugh...not-so-nice things to me that day, and I can't help but wonder what I did to him to deserve that treatment."

Rindo's expression remained stoic, but the mention of Baji connected the dots for him that you were talking about the same fight he had seen with his brother. He also found out that the person you are in conflict with is called Sanzu. The name doesn’t really matter to him because he tends to forget names of people who don’t make a strong impression. But little does Rindo know, he’s actually going to remember Sanzu’s name quite well, especially since this person is the one causing you so much hassle.

"Am I talking too much? I hope I'm not bothering you with my issue. If you're not interested in hearing about it, just let me know," you said with a forced smile, scratching the back of your head.

He raised an eyebrow. "I was the one who said it was okay, and I wouldn’t change my mind just like that. I was just thinking for a moment, that’s all. I won't ask what he told you because it's not my place to interfere, but I do have a question," Rindo said, taking a moment to think while looking off into the distance before turning his attention back to you. "Are you really that close to him?"

You did not understand to whom Rindo was referring, and he was also able to tell that as you looked perplexed.

"To Mikey...Are you really that close to him?," he clarified.

"I think so?"

"And what about him?"

You still didn't get it, and Rindo felt like giving himself a facepalm, but instead he just let out a big sigh.

"What about this Sanzu guy? Is he also friends with Mikey?"

"Oh... uhm..." you paused for a moment. You suddenly remembered a time from elementary school when you saw Mikey and Sanzu together. It was the day when Sanzu had that terrible injury. They had been friends since they were kids, and even after all these years, Sanzu is still there for Mikey. It made you wonder why someone would stick by someone who had hurt them like that. Yet, Sanzu never spoke poorly of Mikey. In fact, he mentioned that he was curious why someone like Mikey would care about you. He also said he only helped you because you're Mikey's friend. So, it seems like Sanzu still thinks a lot of Mikey, right?

"Probably? I mean, it feels like Mikey matters to Sanzu kun. They've known each other since they were little."

Rindo let out a deep chuckle, leaning on his hip with one hand while casting a playful sideways glance your way. 

"You know, this is just too funny. You don't need witchcraft or a genius brain to see what the problem is."

"Huh?"

"This guy is fucking jealous," he smirked.

"Excuse me...what?" You just couldn't understand. This doesn't make any sense. There's no way Sanzu could be jealous of your friendship with Mikey. Rindo's answer seems too far off. Why would Sanzu feel jealous of you? He never even sees you hanging out with Mikey to feel that way. Plus, you couldn't even begin to think of why someone would feel jealous of you. It reminded you of what Shinichiro said about some students being jealous of you. But this... this feels totally different.

"I mentioned earlier that I don't want to know what that person said to insult you. But maybe you have noticed something."

What could Rindo possibly mean by that? With every tick of the clock, a wave of embarrassment washes over you, each second deepening the gnawing feeling of stupidity. You refuse to let Rindo see your confusion— you don't want to seem like a complete fool standing next to him. So you dive deep into your thoughts, desperately clawing at the edges of understanding, trying to unearth the one crucial, but simple detail.

And then—like a sudden, jarring slap across your face—it strikes you with crushing clarity.

His biting insults, each one laced with venom, are entwined in an intricate web that leads back to Mikey.

“It finally clicked in your head, didn’t it?” Rindo said, noticing your shocked expression.

"Oh no, I really don’t want to believe this, but you’re right… There’s really no other explanation. But I don’t want him to feel jealous of me. Why would I want to take his friend away and make him upset? I don’t mean anything bad… This is just a big misunderstanding," you said, feeling totally baffled.

Rindo just listened without saying much, letting you talk through your thoughts. For instance, you questioned how you could handle the conflict, almost as if it wasn't clear what you needed to do.

"Maybe I shouldn't worry about Sanzu kun anymore. I'm done dealing with him."

"Then why?"

You blinked. "I don't get it."

"Why do you look like you're about to shit your pants right now?"

"U-Ugh....W-What?" Your face heated up from embarrassment. 

"I can tell this is bothering you. So why don't you talk to him? Sure, kicking his ass is nicer, but you probably can’t do that, so talking it out is your best bet if you want to sort things out," he suggested, casually tossing the energy drink can into the trash.

Talking to Sanzu?! Nah, that's a terrible idea. You just don’t have the guts to approach him… not on your own. Things would blow up really fast. He’d definitely come back with even worse insults. You really don’t want that. Besides, how would you even know where to find him to talk? You’d have to ask Mikey to help, but then he’d probably figure out that there’s something going on between you two. You can't have that.

Damn, you look ready to faint. You are so scared of Sanzu. And truly, that fear is wholly justified.

"Relax, like this guy’s really gonna rip your head off or something," he laughed, a teasing glint in his eyes.

"And what if he does?" 

He paused, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he savored the moment. "Then slice off his dick before he even sees it coming."

"What? You want me to get killed?!"

You looked totally freaked out. All the color just drained from your face.

"It was just a joke... or maybe it wasn't. Who knows?" he said with a smile, but it didn't make you feel any better. "Anyway, it was fun talking to you for a bit. I can walk the rest of the way by myself. Thanks again for helping me avoid the cops," he added, grinning as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

"O-Oh... You're welcome. And thank you for explaining so much to me. I really do want to talk to Sanzu kun, even though I'm nervous about what might happen," you said, forcing a smile and giving a slight bow to show your gratitude.

"Trust me, this guy can't have more screws loose than I do, so you should be able to handle it."

Oh boy, you really think so?

"I don't think that you're crazy at all, Rindo kun. Honestly, I felt a little nervous bringing up Toman and my friendship with Mikey, but you surprised me by being so cool about it. I figured you might not be a fan of Toman or Mikey, but you didn’t react negatively towards me," you remarked with a soft smile. Rindo choked on his drink from the shock, so it wasn't exactly a "cool reaction," but hey, at least you're alive!

"If you were a guy, you'd be on the floor right now just from mentioning the name Toman."

"So I should be glad that I am not a guy, then?" you chuckled.

He smiled in amusement. 

"Goodbye then," he said with a playful wink.

You blinked, caught off guard.

"O-Oh right, goodbye...," you replied, feeling this weird knot growing in your stomach.

Goodbye...Goodbye...

Goodbye?

Does that mean you won’t ever see him again? Or just not very often?

"Hey R-Rindo kun, uhm... this might sound kinda weird, but can we swap phone numbers? I was just thinking it’d be nice to stay in touch, you know? I feel like having someone to chat with would really help me out, but no pressure if you're not up for it. I promise I won’t text you all the time or anything, especially when you're busy training or, uh, 'slapping the hell out of people' or whatever you called it," you said, feeling super awkward about asking for his number like you were trying to flirt or somethi-

"Are you hitting on me, or what?" he chuckled, ruffling his hair with his hand.

You turned as red as a tomato. "Uh, n-no, I- I was just...," you stammered, waving your hands around all goofy.

"Don't be shy. Just text me whenever you feel like it," he laughed, his shoulders bouncing a bit as he took his phone out of his black pants. You quickly pulled out your phone too, hands shaking, and before you knew it, there was a new contact saved on your phone.

"A bellflower?"

Rindo raised an eyebrow when he noticed the image of a bellflower next to his name. "I... I thought it was a nice idea to add an image to the meaning of your name. B-But if you're not feeling it, I can totally remove it."

"I like it,"  he replied after giving it some thought. You were kinda worried he'd think it was awkward, but he actually seemed...happy? For a second, you even thought you saw a hint of a blush on his tanned cheeks...Nah, you must be blind. At least he has a little smile on his face, even if it's super hard to spot.

"So then, see you around."

"Yes, see you!" you winked back at him, full of excitement, unlike his quick and laid-back wink at you.

Things shifted quickly from saying goodbye to looking forward to seeing each other again, and you felt really proud of yourself for asking for his number. Otherwise, you would've been kicking yourself for ages (or at least that would’ve been me, lol).

"Hey, before I bounce... When you chat with this Sanzu guy, don’t say sorry for stuff that isn’t even your fault, okay? And make sure to look up at him when you talk, just like you do with me, got it?"

Your eyes got a bit wide, but you nodded with determination, even though it was tough since you usually looked down when you felt awkward...or scared. But you were gonna try to get better at that. You really need to step it up when you’re facing Sanzu.

"Good girl," he said with a smile, reaching up to give your head a pat.

It was the first time he touched you, just a quick little head pat, but wow, your heart was racing. Was it truly possible for such a simple gesture—a tender head pat—to stir such profound emotions? Is it weird to be so affected by something so small? The very spot where his fingers brushed against your head pulsed with warmth. You couldn't help but feel totally pumped by this compliment from a guy you’d only met two times.

Even though he's got a reputation as a hoodlum and has definitely done some bad things, there's just something about him that really leaves a positive impression on you.

You definitely want to see him more often.

And then there are just those people you’d rather not run into... like, seriously, you didn’t think you’d bump into Sanzu a few days later at a convenience store. What kind of terrible luck is that? Sure, you wanted to confront him, but holy shit, not when you’re totally unprepared.

Should you jump out the window now or later?

—

[Author's note: Hey everyone! So, this chapter turned out way longer than I thought it would be, but I hope you still have fun reading it. Rindo is just the cutest, I can't get enough of him! Get ready for the next chapter though—there’s gonna be a ton of drama between Sanzu and Reader. It's time to be pathetic again and sob like a total mess, isn't it?... See you in the next chapter!]

[gohan1]

Breaking the Panels: How Tokyo Revengers Wasted its Potential

Hello everyone! I wanted to share some thoughts I’ve had about Tokyo Revengers while reading the manga over the years, especially after it ended in 2022. There are a few things that have been on my mind, and I’d love to hear your opinions too. As the title suggests, I believe Tokyo Revengers had a lot of potential to be even better, but I feel like the author missed some chances to add detail and clarity to the story, leaving some questions unanswered.

For example, the Bonten arc could have been really intense and exciting (dark themes, brutality, gore,...), but it felt quite rushed. We only got a brief look at it, and the characters didn’t really get to connect with each other.

I also noticed some drawing errors that puzzled me. For instance, after Takemichi marries Hina, Takeomi still has his scar through his eye. It doesn’t make sense for Sanzu to injure him again after everything they went through together, especially since their relationships improved (like bro Sanzu and Senju are youtube stars).

During the wedding, I would have liked to see more interaction among the characters. There’s a scene with Emma, Draken, and Izana, but we don’t know what they’re discussing. Overall, there isn’t enough character interaction to show how their relationships developed. And it's really frustrating that none of the characters remember what Takemichi did for them.

Another thing that bothers me is how the childhood stories of Mikey, Baji, and Haruchiyo were portrayed. It felt random, and Senju seemed out of place. Mikey never mentioned Senju, and there were no interactions between Haruchiyo and the others when they were together in Toman, making it seem like they didn’t know each other.

So many great storylines were overlooked, and we still don’t know why Haruchiyo hated Senju or the real reason behind Sanzu injuring Takeomi. It’s strange because when Haruchiyo was in elementary school, Takeomi already had his scar, which means Haruchiyo must have been a little child when that happened (what the fuck).

I also wish we had seen more of the Haitani brothers; they deserve more background and development. It would have been great to learn more about Izana and Kakucho, their lives in the orphanage, and why Shinichiro never talked to Mikey about Izana, or if he met Izana in other timelines.

I am glad there’s a blackboard showing drawings of the characters and some fun facts about them, which gives us a glimpse of their dynamics in the “best future of Toman” that Takemichi and Mikey achieved through their time leaps. 

It would be wonderful to have a manga that explores these aspects more deeply and answers the questions I raised. What do you think about this?

I want to emphasize that I really respect the author and his work. I mean, this man has a real talent for creating boys who are incredibly hot as fuck; he knows how to make women fall hard for fictional characters and make them drool over them.

Anyways, thank you for taking the time to read my thoughts!

[gohan1]

[Chapter 26]

The sun beamed down with a golden brilliance, transforming the rain puddles into shimmering jewels that sparkled joyously in the warm light. Little droplets clung desperately to the roots of nearby shops, each one poised to fall, creating a melody of soft, rhythmic plinks as they released their hold. As people strolled by, they folded their umbrellas with the same sense of relief you felt when the rain finally stopped.

Rindo reached out his arm a little to give your umbrella back to you. When your fingers hesitantly wrapped around the handle again, they accidentally brushed against his. But the touch was so brief that it was not even noticeable; it was so slight that it might as well have been a figment of your imagination. So why do you feel the comforting heat of his hand on your own?

Even as the temperature dipped slightly, the lingering warmth from his touch enveloped you. You found yourself looking at your own hand, thinking about how warm the spot where his hand had been felt. You were surprised that someone like him, a delinquent, could feel so warm, even though you hadn't really touched him—just the place where he had held the umbrella.

It reminds you of the comfort Mikey brings you. When he hugged you at your house, it felt so nice and warm, almost like a cozy blanket. His warmth wasn’t too hot; it felt just right. You could feel his heat wrapping around you during the hug, even through his clothes. Rindo gives off a similar kind of warmth, and when you think about it, he shares some of the same qualities as Mikey.

It's clear that Mikey wouldn't hurt people just for fun or even kill them, unlike Rindo, who openly admits that he enjoys hearing people scream in pain—something Mikey would definitely not like. You still struggle to believe that Rindo and his brother were responsible for their leader's death in the past. From where you stand, Rindo seems so normal. You try to convince yourself that it must have been some kind of accident, like he simply didn't realize he had crossed a line at that moment (you really hope that's true, but hope dies last).

To be honest, Rindo is a complicated person. You'd never expect him to commit such a horrific act; after all, he’s the very person who tenderly held your umbrella, just as Mikey would have done. When you walk next to him, an arm's length apart, you can’t help but sneak a glance at him. He doesn't look like a delinquent—he was the one who returned your phone when you dropped it in the gym and even saved your life. At least when it comes to how he treats you, he doesn’t come off as a rebellious type. But his appearance tells a different story—with his earring, notable styled hair, and a half-body tattoo, he does give off a dangerous vibe.

"My hobbies...," Rindo mumbles, his gaze still fixed on the street, but he looks like he is really thinking about it, as indicated by the way he knits his brows a bit. You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you completely forgot you asked him about his hobbies. Finally, he turned his violet eyes toward you, keeping his head straight, and his lips slowly formed a faint smile. You forced a smile back, feeling a bit stupid for bringing up a topic that seemed more fitting for a child in kindergarten.

Embarrassment made your cheeks feel warm. "I'm sorry for asking something so personal out of the blue," you said, feeling awkward. "I just couldn't think of anything else to talk about... but if you're not comfortable chatting, that's totally okay. I just thought it felt a bit quiet, so please don’t mind m-"

"I like muscle training."

You looked at him, tilting your head to the side with a puzzled look on your face. "Isn't it obvious that you enjoy working out, Rindo kun?"

"What makes you say that?" he replied, putting his hands in the pockets of his black pants.

"Well...What other reason would you have to hit the gym? You clearly enjoy it. I mean, just look at you—you definitely look like someone who spends a lot of time working out. And when I watched you lift weights, you seemed so focused and determined. Plus, you've got a really nice physique. I just think it’s great that you dedicate your time to getting stronger."

Maybe mentioning his attractive body was a bit too much, especially since it reminded you of that time you saw him without a shirt, leaving you blushing a deep shade of red. Rindo’s soft chuckle only intensified your embarrassment, and you could see the amusement dancing in his eyes as he savored your unintended compliments, even if they weren’t particularly special.

Rindo actually appreciates compliments, even the small ones. Usually, Ran gets all the attention for his strength, leaving Rindo in his shadow. It’s not that Rindo isn’t intimidating—people respect him in Roppongi just like they do his brother. He can easily pin down anyone who challenges him. He’s strong, no doubt about that, but as you said, Rindo wants to get even stronger — stronger than his brother. He can’t always depend on him to have his back in a fight.

RIndo thinks it's weird that you are so curious about him, even though you said it is only to pass the time. But wouldn't there be other topics to talk about? Maybe about how many people he has broken the bones of so far or how many begged him for mercy and—

"Are there any other things you enjoy? Maybe some that aren't so obvious?" you asked with a gentle laugh, jogging a little to catch up as you fell behind for a moment and then walked right beside him.

Alright, then only hobbies it is.

Rindo had a blank look on his face as he stared at the street. He seemed hesitant, making you think he doesn't want to share more about himself. You almost decided to change the subject. But just as you were about to speak, he suddenly interrupted you, not realizing you were about to say something.

"...DJing."

You blinked in surprise.

"That sounds cool! I think it's a pretty unique hobby since I haven't met many people who are into the same thing as you...Do you have your own DJ setup at home? Or are you actually working as a DJ?"

"Yeah, I have all the equipment at home. I don't DJ at parties, even though I'm so amazing. But hey, I'm really good at almost everything" he said, placing his right hand on his hip.

You were taken aback. He clearly has a high opinion of himself, which isn’t surprising considering how other hoodlums in Roppongi admire him. But it is unfair to only think of his reputation in that area because as you walked next to him, you noticed some people turning their heads to look at Rindo in the busy streets of Shibuya. Especially some rough-looking guys who stared at him as he were some kind of idol.

Rindo didn't seem to care about all the attention; he didn't even glance at the other people. Why should he worry about strangers staring at him? He wasn't someone who felt awkward with attention—unlike you right now. Clearly, people weren't just interested in Rindo Haitani; they were also curious about you, a sweet and typical-looking girl who walked in the shadow of such a formidable charisma.

You froze in place, an icy shiver coursing through your veins as you sensed the burning gaze of dangerous people fixated on you. It was so unsettling that you felt both exposed and vulnerable, like a delicate puppet on show for everyone to see.

"Come closer."

Huh?

Suddenly, Rindo was standing right in front of you, looking deeply into your eyes with an expression you couldn't quite figure out. His gaze was so strong that it drew you in. It was odd—he didn’t pay any attention to the other people staring at him, but when they looked at you, he seemed to notice. This made him shift his whole body toward you, pulling you out of your anxious thoughts.

"You need to walk just next to me," he said, pausing for a moment. "Otherwise, you might become a snack for them. You don't want that, do you?"

You couldn't believe that it was so obvious that you felt uncomfortable. And even if Rindo had noticed it, you didn't think he would make the effort to walk back towards you and tell you to stay closer to him. He wants... to protect you? At least this is how it seems. There is no other reason for him to take action like this. It’s not every day someone takes the initiative like that, especially when he doesn’t know you all that well. It’s pretty...nice of him to step in and lend a hand without overthinking it.

"Thank you, Rindo kun," you said quietly, feeling both surprised and relieved.

Rindo let out a heavy sigh, his body turning away from you as he began to walk. In an instant, you surged forward, determined to stay by his side. Your heart raced as you focused on maintaining the closeness, even as he cast a cold, disdainful glance at the other hoodlums. It wasn’t just a glare; it was a chilling expression of boredom that held a darker undertone. His icy eyes cut through the air like a knife, and you felt the energy shift around you—their bravado crumbled as they instinctively shrank back, averted their gazes, and knew better than to approach. Rindo’s eyes were fierce and unyielding, a silent yet powerful warning that made it abundantly clear: they were to keep their distance from you, or face the consequences.

In just a fleeting moment, the gaze of the crowd shifted away, and with that simple act, an immense weight lifted from your shoulders.

"Thanks again... You've really helped me out a lot. I feel a bit guilty because I wanted to repay you so I wouldn't owe you anything. But here you are, saving me once more. So I guess I'm still in your debt. Ugh...I'm sorry." you said with a nervous laugh, even though it was weighing on you that he helped you again and you felt helpless to return the favor.

"We've only met two times, but I can already tell you're a pain in the ass. I honestly wonder how you'd survive in this world without other people looking out for you," he said, his eyes squinting slightly in irritation. "And stop apologizing for every little shit. That's also troublesome."

"I'm sor- I mean...ugh."

"Are you...for real?"

It feels a bit odd. Usually, if someone spoke to you like this, you'd feel hurt or offended. But deep down, you sense that Rindo isn't trying to be mean. He isn't yelling, even if he seems a little annoyed. It feels like he’s trying to teach you something important, almost like he wants to boost your confidence. But that's just a feeling you have, and you're not completely sure about it. Why would you feel offended anyway if he’s actually right?

Rindo really is impressive, just like he said. It’s painfully clear he sees you for what you are—a person who leans on others, and from what he's observed, he could easily label you as... weak. You seek validation from your family to fill the void of qualities you believe you lack, just as Mikey's presence soothes the fear inherent in depending on others. Even someone like Yuzuha, who appears delicate, stood up for you. 

There was a bit of an awkward pause before Rindo cleared his throat.

"And you know, I only stepped in because I figured Antonio Rodrigo Nogueira would have done the same for you," he said with a pout, his right hand still on his hip as he strolled along. You were trying to focus on how he was pouting because of you, and it made his cheeks puff out a little. It was so unlike him that you almost wanted to laugh, but then you thought...Antonio who?

You realized it might not be great to ask, so you acted like you knew him. 

"Oh really? U-Uh, thanks a lot for...being brave like him."

Yeah, pretending isn’t really your strong suit.

"Let me guess...You have no clue who that is?"

"Ugh..."

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, he couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle.

"He is an MMA fighter, a true legend of our time. Honestly, every time I watch him on TV, it feels like an unforgettable experience – he's just that incredible." It was subtle, yet undeniable—the way his eyes sparkled, accompanied by the soft, unwavering smile that danced on his lips. It was clear that his admiration for this person ran deep. "I have to admit, he’s also a big reason I got into jiu jitsu – just to slap the hell out of people."

"U-Uh, let's be careful with that...I really believe martial arts should be about self-defense," you said, wiping the sweat from your brow with a bit of concern.

He laughed and replied, "That's exactly what people like you would say."

"...But it’s true. There’s a big difference between fighting to defend yourself and fighting just to hurt others for enjoyment, which isn’t right. Obviously, I can’t tell you how to use your abilities, but I think it’s important to think carefully about your actions."

You kept your thoughts brief because you didn’t want to start an argument. He hadn’t even asked for your opinion, but you shared it anyway. Honestly, it’s more of a general belief in society—most people think this way, except for those who break the law. You’re just glad that Mikey and Chifuyu only fight to keep others safe.

Rindo blinked at you, probably surprised that you spoke up, even if you were a bit hesitant. He didn't say anything in response, just looked at you with a neutral expression. You really hope he’s not mad at you... If he were really upset, wouldn’t he have said something by now? You couldn't shake the fear that you had crossed a line. Maybe it would have been better to stay quiet. After all, silence, they say, is golden, while speaking out is but silver.

"I think that’s enough about me for today," Rindo suddenly said, running his hand through his hair while swinging his other arm as he walked.

For today? Could there possibly be a next time?

"Now, let's talk about you."

You were probably overthinking it. It’s just a way of talking; there’s no way he would want to chat with you ag-

"About... me?" You pointed at yourself, your mouth agape in disbelief.

He nodded.

"Um, alright...But is there something in particular you want to ask me? I don’t think I’m that interesting. You might get bored," you admitted, a hesitant smile breaking through as you nervously scratched the back of your head.

"I don't know," he said with a shrug. "For example why do you keep saying sorry? It sounds like it's the only word you know. Only apologize if you really mean it. And if something goes wrong, just let others deal with the consequences." he added with a little laugh.

Uh, that's not a very nice thing to do.

"I've just had some bad experiences with a few people, and those memories still bother me. I guess I think that saying sorry might help improve things and keep me from getting hurt again."

"Am I...hurting you?"

The words hung in the air, taking you by surprise. 

"W-What?...I don't mean it like this. I'm sorry if it came across this way. To be honest, I actually feel comfortable around you, even though it is strange to feel that way. You've called me troublesome, but I didn't feel like you mean it in a rude way...at least I hope so."

He smirked. "Yeah, probably. But why have you had bad experiences with other people? You seem like someone who gets along well with everyone." 

In that moment, a rush of unfamiliar emotions swept through you, making your heart race. 

He should say that to Sanzu.

You can’t quite grasp why Sanzu instantly floods your mind, but deep down, you know the truth—it’s that piercing gaze he casts your way, one that feels like a predator sizing up a vulnerable little bug, held back only by some twisted loyalty to Mikey. It’s suffocating. Would it be okay to talk to Rindo about your issues with Sanzu? It shouldn’t cause any trouble, right? Maybe chatting with Rindo will help you understand why Sanzu doesn’t like you. It’s fine to share a bit about this situation.

Yeah, it's totally fine.

—

[Author's Note: Hey everyone! So, in the next chapter, Reader has a conversation with Rindo about her situation with Sanzu, where she'll be seeking his take on the whole thing. And guess what? She accidentally drops a bombshell about Sanzu being part of Toman and that Mikey is her friend! Yikes! I can’t wait to see Rindo's reaction to that! Of course, it seems like it’s the perfect time to dive into some tricky situations. And how do we kick off a tough moment? You got it—by interacting with Sanzu! Let's hope she's okay after this...See you in the next chapter.]

[gohan1]

[Chapter 25]

How the hell did you find yourself sharing an umbrella with Rindo Haitani?

The rain was coming down harder than ever. It had been nice at first, but now it was falling so heavy that the drops were hitting your umbrella with a loud thud, making it bounce a little. The sound of the rain surrounded you; you could hear the different ways the raindrops splashed on the ground, pounded on the roof, and flowed through the drains. Yet, amid the storm, your gaze remained unwavering, captivated by the depth of Rindo's violet eyes.

With every passing moment, you couldn't help but regret pushing him aside to protect him from the police. You, of all people, had let a delinquent slip through the fingers of the police. A mix of unease and dread surged within you, tinged with the haunting worry of what consequences your reckless act might bring. You fervently hoped you wouldn't pay the price for it...

Suddenly, the vivid memory crashed over you: seeing him half-naked in the gym with his toned tattooed body right in front of your eyes. The mere thought of it sent a rush of warmth flooding to your cheeks as you stood so close to Rindo. You found yourself powerless to hold his gaze, forcing your eyes down to the ground, embarrassedly fixating on his feet instead. And the way his clothes clung to him, soaked by the rain, only deepened the blush staining your face.

The heavy silence hung between you like a thick curtain, amplifying the awkwardness of the moment. You couldn't bear to imagine what thoughts danced in his mind about you right now, and the way his eyes widened in shock for just a fleeting instant told you everything: he was surprised to see you again while you were overwhelmed by the flood of embarrassment.

He gave you a brief blink, his face giving away nothing, lips lightly pressed together. Then, he took a slow step back to create a bit more space, but he remained tucked under the umbrella with you.

"Thank you," he said with a slight smile, making you glance up from the ground at the sound of his calm, easygoing, and somewhat deep voice. "Do we know each other?"

...

Oh my gosh, did he really just ask that?! It felt like a punch in the gut. But it makes sense that he wouldn’t remember you; you’re just an ordinary person, while he has a unique and memorable appearance. The guy at the gym who laughed at you when you were having a hard time lifting weights mentioned that the Haitani brothers are the top dogs in Roppongi, so they are famous for their strength and fighting skills. Rindo wouldn't remember someone plain; he'd only notice a delinquent with a reputation like his.

The likelihood of him recognizing a girl he saw briefly is slim unless she’s also a formidable gang member, which is veryrare. Girls typically don’t engage in gang activities as they lack the physical strength to compete with boys. Furthermore, girls do not really believe that using violence is fun. In addition, they also think much more about their own future, which means graduating from school with good grades to apply for a job. 

However, there is a specific girl you haven't met—she's the younger sister of a vice-division leader of Toman—who will shock you with her strength, defying all stereotypes.

On the other hand, boys are completely insane in their heads, as if they have a few screws loose, thinking that violence can solve everything. You recently realized that it is not about solving problems anymore; it is only about entertainment and showing one’s own superiority. It’s as if the thrill of chaos has consumed them, as they seek to project strength and dominance over others, all while the world around them cries out for something far more meaningful.

And even though they are leading such dangerous lives, all the people you have met so far seem to be happy. They chose this path willingly, so they are not forced to participate in immoral activities, but still... Why does it make your chest throb with sadness? It is not your own business how other people choose to spend their own lives.

But don't they deserve better? Even those delinquents like Haruchiyo, who just look down on you and treat you like you're a piece of shit? 

Rindo raised his eyebrow in surprise as he looked at you, realizing you were deep in thought. Earlier, you appeared really attentive to him, but now it was as if you weren't fully present. Your eyes were half-lidded and you seem a bit worried.

"Hey, it was just a joke, alright?" he said with a nervous laugh, scratching his head. "You're the girl I met in the gym, right?"

You snapped out of your thoughts. When your gaze met his mesmerizing violet orbs, a flicker of concern danced within them.

Nah, you must have been imagining it.

"O-Oh, yes! That's me, [Name]," you replied, surprised that he started teasing you right from the start. You really believed he wouldn't remember you after a few months since you didn't think you made much of an impression. But it seems like even ordinary girls can catch the attention of guys.

"It’s hard to forget someone who saw me half-naked," he said with a playful smirk, running his hand through his hair and chuckling softly.

"U-Ugh, that was an accident..." you mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"I mean, obviously." Rindo tilted his head, a mischievous grin on his face. "Unless you actually planned it and pretended not to know you walked into the men's locker room?"

This guy is giving you such a hard time, and you haven't even been talking to him for long. You can't even speak up because you're so flustered by his inappropriate assumption about you that it's like your mouth has suddenly stopped working. Even when you try to protest, it feels like your mouth just won't cooperate.

"Your expressions are absolutely priceless," he chuckled, then slowly tilted his head to check if the same police officers were still looking for him on the street. "Anyway, thanks again for your help. Looks like the cops have left, so I can finally get going," he added, his face settling back into a more serious look.

You thought you’d never see him again, yet here he was after a few months. Perhaps fate had brought you together to repay him for saving you from being hit by a car. But you still felt uneasy. Was it fair to just let him walk away? What if the police were still searching for Rindo? You wanted to make sure you truly expressed your gratitude for what he did for you.

It was frustrating that he wanted to keep the conversation so brief and seemed eager to leave, as if he had something really important to do. Yet, surprisingly, he still had time to joke around with you for a bit.

You have to help him get to where he needs to go without being spotted by the police. This is the least you can do for him after he saved your life, even if your help feels small compared to what he did for you. Just think about it—if you let him leave and then he gets caught by the police, you wouldn’t be able to sleep peacefully knowing that could have been prevented.

And so, you reached out, grasping his sleeve just as he decided to step out from under your umbrella. The abruptness of your action startled you, and a wave of regret washed over you as you slipped your hand away, casting him an apologetic look. He paused momentarily when he felt your touch, and his eyes widened for an instant. He stood with you under your umbrella again, looking at you with a little hint of curiosity on his face.

"W-Wait please...U-Ugh, I'm really sorry for grabbing onto you like that, but to be honest I don't think it's safe for you to leave just yet. We don't know if the police really stopped looking for you or if they are searching for you somewhere else,"  you said slowly, picking your words carefully. "Maybe... maybe it would be so much safer if you stayed here with me a little longer. Just until we can be certain, you know?"

"Usually, I would take a bit more time to figure things out, but I have something important to take care of before heading home, so I can't really wait," Rindo replied, looking rather unfazed as he started to turn towards the street. He glanced back at you one last time and added, "I don’t understand why you’re worried about someone you barely know, but I can manage this on my own."

He was just about to step out into the rain again, and you realized that once he left, you wouldn't be able to fulfill your promise to help him.

"I don’t want you to be in danger again, especially since it’s still pouring outside. Why don't we walk together until we find a safer place? The police won’t be able to see your face if you're under my umbrella, so it’ll help you stay out of sight...Plus, you won’t get any wetter and risk catching a cold."

He let out a soft chuckle when you mentioned catching a cold, as if he really cared about it. But you were right that the police might still be looking for him, so you could actually help keep him hidden.

"Alright...But why are you so determined to help me out? It took a lot of bravery for you to pull me into this alley and hide me from the police, and now you want to go even further? You know you could get into trouble for it. The police might not pay much attention to you because you seem like an innocent girl, but that doesn't mean you're completely safe. There is no guarantee that you won't get caught up in this," he said, his lips pressed tightly together as he waited for you to think it over.

You paused for a moment before taking a deep breath.

"Don't you remember that you told me I should do you a favor when we meet again? I know that you probably only said that just to get away, but today is the right time for me to help you out...as you are in a difficult situation. Obviously, my help doesn't have the same value as when you saved my life, but I still owe you something. This is the least I could do for you, or at least what someone like me is capable of."

You looked into his purple eyes, even though it was hard to keep eye contact because it felt like he was peering right into your soul with his somewhat empty gaze. 

After a moment, he sighed, giving in. 

"Guess I have to agree to your offer," he muttered under his breath. "Follow me," he commanded, a slight wave of his hand urging you to keep pace with him. Your eyes sparkled, and a gentle smile appeared on your face as you both walked out of the alley together, the rain pouring down on your umbrella with loud splashes.

You walked right next to him, holding the umbrella to keep you both dry, trying your best to keep Rindo's head from getting wet. You made an effort to keep a little distance, but it was a bit tricky sharing an umbrella, causing your arms to occasionally bump against each other. Each time it happened, you’d shyly step a bit out from under the cover. 

As time went on, your arm started to ache from holding the umbrella up for so long. Even though he wasn’t much taller than you, it was tiring to keep your arm raised without shifting your grip. In addition, the silence between you made you a bit anxious; he was focused straight ahead, while you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him without letting it show.

His blond-blue hair blew around in the rain, and the strong wind made his silver earring sway with his stylish haircut. A few raindrops clung to his round glasses, but they didn’t blur his vision. When you noticed his slightly wet clothes again, you couldn’t help but think he had a really unique sense of style. You felt the same way when you saw him after the gym. He looks really cool.

He wore a black collared shirt with the top two buttons undone, giving a glimpse of his lightly tanned skin and a bit of his chest tattoo. His pants were black, held up by a fancy belt, and he had a chain hanging from the side, paired with black shoes that men typically wear with a suit.

"You’ve been looking at me for a while now. Do I have something on my face?" he asked with a little chuckle, tilting his head toward you.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to stare and make you uncomfortable," you apologized with an awkward smile.

"There's no need to apologize. You seem to take everything pretty seriously, huh?" he said with a smile. Then he noticed that your shoulder was sticking out from under the umbrella, getting completely wet. He also saw that your arm was starting to drop from holding the umbrella up for a long time. 

"You’re all wet," he stated. "Why didn’t you just ask me to hold the umbrella if you’re getting tired? You look like you could use a break," he urged, his gaze softening as he reached out toward your umbrella.

Somehow, he is really nice.

"Thank you..." you said quietly, looking back at the street. "So, um... What did you want to do, Rando ku- I mean Rin kun?"

Fuck, not again.

Back then, Ran was laughing a lot when you mixed up their names. It was so embarrassing that you just wanted to disappear, like really, you wished you could just bury yourself. Now, the thought of making that same blunder again makes you even more anxious. It didn't help that Rindo was also cracking up this time, which he didn’t do before.

This guy was seriously laughing his ass off. Fortunately, his laughter didn’t last too long, although you have to admit that his deep, rich laughter was pretty charming. Once his expression returned to normal, he flashed a grin. "It's Rindo." 

Your face turned as red as a tomato, and you looked away from him even more, just like when you were hiding together in the alley. It was so embarrassing that you felt like you wanted to scream. And it could get even worse.

"I'm sorry...I-I mixed you up with your brother."

"Oh really?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "I don't remember having a brother named Rando. Only Ran." he replied playfully.

"U-Ugh, I'm really sorry about this. I can't believe it happened again. Normally, I'm good at remembering names, but when I'm with you, I just feel..." You paused, searching for the right words.

"Stupid?"

...

Maybe you should reconsider thinking that he is nice.

"Uhm, I think I just get a little nervous when I’m around you, and I’m not quite sure why," you admitted, your embarrassment creeping onto your face. Then, you turned to him with a gentle smile as you continued walking together. "Actually, it's easy to remember your names since they both represent different types of flowers. They sound beautiful and represent something elegant and, oddly enough, something innocent. But, obviously, it is also very ironic that two insa— I-I mean, when the rulers of Roppongi have such gentle names," you chuckled softly, trying to brush past your little mistake, stuttering a bit. "Your parents must love you to give you such nice names."

"I like flowers." you mumbled with a warm smile.

Rindo's eyes lit up when you mentioned the meaning of his name. He quickly caught on to your little slip-up but found it pretty amusing. In fact, he wouldn’t be offended at all if someone called him "insane" or something similar—he actually takes pride in it. He is part of the S-62 generation, often called the "vicious generation" because of their violent behavior.

This group started when Rindo was just 13 and was led by Izana Kurokawa. He gathered a strong group of teenagers around his age while they were at a juvenile detention center. Rindo and his brother preferred to stick together as a duo, not wanting to join a larger group. However, after they lost to Izana at the juvenile detention center, they had no choice but to follow Izana. This led them into a life of crime, including stealing, fighting, and drug dealing.

Now, Rindo is just waiting for Izana to make his next move to reunite the gang after so many years.

Rindo had always been labeled as “brutal,” “violent,” and “scary” by those cowardly hoodlums who trembled in his presence. So how is it that a girl like you can confidently give him a compliment and smile at him without even flinching? How can you be so utterly unafraid? Maybe it's because you haven't witnessed the depths of his power. 

Still, you've heard plenty of stories about him, and when you asked if the rumors were true — that he killed people by smashing their heads — he noticed how scared you were just by the look on your face. Most people would have run away, even weak-ass hoodlums, but you stood your ground. Instead of backing down, you asked him what you could do for him in return for saving you.

When his brother mentioned that you seem interesting, he wasn't so sure. But the more he thinks about it, his brother might be right. There is something intriguing about you, but he can't quite put his finger on what it is.

"Uhm Rindo kun, how about we talk about your hobbies until we get to where you want to go? You know, other things you enjoy besides breaking bones..."

The twist is that you're genuinely curious about him, and surprisingly, Rindo wants to know you just as much—if not more.

Suddenly, the rain stopped, the sky was turning blue again, and the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, shining on his glasses and making you appear even more radiant.

He can't help but wonder... Should the two of you take the step and exchange phone numbers?

—

[Author's Note: Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed this little interaction. In the next chapter, there will be more moments between Reader and Rindo before we move on to other events. By the way, I often wonder about the parents in Tokyo Revengers. I picture the Haitani brothers' parents leaving them when they were young, maybe when they got involved in gangs. Do you have any thoughts or theories on this? See you in the next chapter!]

[gohan1]

[Chapter 24]

Mikey still held you close against his slender frame while you both sat on the bed. Your head rested against his neck, and your arms wrapped around his back, pulling him even closer. A happy smile appeared on your lips as you surrendered to the moment.

Your chest nearly brushed against him. With your eyes closed, you inhaled the refreshing scent of his black shirt. You found yourself in a whirlpool of thoughts, wondering if it was the scent of his clothes wrapping around you, or if it was his natural aroma. Either way, it was amazing and made you feel warm inside. Your body trembled a bit during the hug, not from fear, but from the thrill of knowing you had such a wonderful person like Mikey in your life — a true friend willing to go to any lengths to keep you safe.

Of all the people in this world, he decided to protect you.

You know you can't compare yourself to his sister Emma, but you feel like you should at least have a spot near her for Mikey. He showed how much he cares by going so far as to beat the crap out of all your bullies at school. 

Can he take it even further?

You cannot imagine that he would do something like this for his other friends. He would not hurt people who talk negatively about them. He would only do this for you. And that is what distinguishes you from all his other friends. They just don’t mean as much to him as you do since you basically grew up together. 

You are irreplaceable.

You were convinced that as long as Mikey was with you, no one would bother you. Nobody would want to hurt you, especially knowing what might happen if Mikey found out. Anyone with common sense would think twice before messing with you, knowing how much you mean to him. 

You endured so much in the past few months. You were nearly beaten up by Kiyomasa and by random hoodlums on the street, probably also nearly raped, and lastly, you had your horrific encounter with Taiju and his two underlings. You don't count the fact that you had to walk with a cane for a few weeks after twisting your ankle at the gym, which led to torn ligaments. Even though your ankle was not fractured, it obviously hurt, but it was not Rindo's fault; it was your own stupidity.

All those challenges you went through might have actually been worth it. If you hadn’t faced them, you might not have seen just how much Mikey cares about you, and you might never have realized that there is a person besides your parents who values you.

Mikey gently patted your head, giving your hair a little tousle while you rested comfortably against his neck.

Yes, it was definitely worth it.

"I can't express how relieved I am that you aren't afraid of me, [Name]. I was worried you might hold a grudge against me for what I did...But I was upset to see you cry because of trash people like them. I couldn't stand to see you suffer, not for a moment longer. I needed a way to make them stay away from you. So I had to use violence," he said quietly, resting his face against your shoulder and softly brushing your hair.

You hoped that your long hug wasn't overwhelming him, but he didn't seem to mind at all since he held on just as tightly. It felt great to be that close, and you think he enjoyed it as much as you did. Still, you didn't want to invade his personal space or make him feel uneasy, so you slowly started to let go of the hug (though part of you really wished you could stay like this a bit longer). When you finally pulled back, you found yourself lost in his deep black eyes, which sparkled with warmth and kindness. You just couldn't help but keep gazing into them. You couldn't tear your eyes away; his eyes drew you in like a magnetic force, holding you in trance of admiration.

You were so completely dazzled by his handsomeness and the profound care he radiated toward you that the frightening reality behind his eyes seemed to fade into the background. Those eyes, filled with darkness, were so cold that everyone would shiver in fear at the first glance. But beneath it all, there was the awareness that his eyes told a different story—yet it didn’t disturb you. Maybe, just maybe, you found a certain allure in the unique darkness they conveyed, even if you usually preferred when they bloomed with vibrant light.

Your head was totally messed up. 

Are you going crazy because you're so hungry and still waiting for your food?...And now you have brain rot?

"I would never resent you, please trust me. I'm just so happy you would do something like this for me, I can't even put it into words... Ugh, but it must have been though dealing with all those guys at my school, especially since some were older and bigger than us. You did not get hurt because of me, right?"

Mikey was amused by your genuine concern for him.

"Like I mentioned before, I'm unbeatable, [Name]. Winning is child's play. No one can compete with me, even if I might get a little hurt," he said confidently, then his tone dropped a few octaves. "But let's talk about you. What happened today? You avoided explaining it near your parents, so now that we're alone...Who hurt you?"

You didn’t really have a choice; you had to respond because it was an order. If you didn’t, he wouldn’t be happy.

"It's really not a big deal, to be honest. A few people were planning to hurt me, but you don't need to worry about me. They didn't feel like hurting me because I passed out before they could do something bad to me. They ended up leaving and...uh...I was on the ground for a bit until I finally woke up. But I wasn't the only one in danger. His sister definitely had a tougher time than I did," you said, fidgeting with your fingers as you looked away from Mikey and stared at the ground.

"His sister?" Mikey asked, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I almost forgot to mention... That guy really hurt his sister badly, and I felt like...", you paused for a moment to gather yourself, not looking at Mikey even though you couldn't take your eyes off him earlier. You were suddenly terrified he might get upset with you for acting thoughtlessly, so you hoped he would stay calm. "...I wanted to help her, but her brother got mad at me for getting involved, and then the other two guys held me back to stop me from leaving. That’s when I got so scared that I fainted."

It felt strange. Mikey didn’t say anything for a few seconds, so you nervously looked up to meet his gaze. His eyes were narrowed, and his lips were pressed tightly together, making it hard to read his thoughts.

"Tell me their names," he said through clenched teeth, forming his hands into fists. He was furious. He was so angry that he imagined wringing the necks of these motherfuckers.

You weren’t sure if you should mention their names because you didn’t want to get involved in that issue any more than necessary. It was a memory you wished to push away, and forgetting it felt like the only way to move forward. Sometimes, forgetting can be like a healing balm. You felt reluctant to go into more detail, even though you couldn’t help but think about whether Yuzuha and her younger brother Hakkai would be rescued from their cruel older brother. Since Hakkai is a member of Toman and even a vice-leader, you figured Mikey would be willing to help them, right? But if Hakkai truly wanted to escape his brother’s grasp, wouldn’t he ask Mikey for help himself? Plus, considering it further, wouldn’t that put Mikey and his group in a big fight with the so-called “Black Dragon” over a family issue? And Yuzuha had mentioned she didn’t want anyone getting involved with their family troubles, saying it was something they needed to handle themselves.

The reality is that Mikey wouldn’t take action against Taiju just because he hurt Hakkai and Yuzuha. But if it were about you, he would go to any lengths. He wouldn’t just hurt Taiju; he would go as far as to kill him. He wouldn’t stop at Taiju; he would take down the whole Black Dragon. He wouldn't care that his brother Shinichiro formed Black Dragon when he was a teenager. Black Dragon isn’t what it used to be, so he wouldn’t think twice about wanting to destroy it now that you were almost harmed by them. 

You were mentally debating whether you should tell Mikey about the gang's name because of the potential consequences of an arising conflict between both gangs. Did Mikey even have a chance against a beast like Taiju? Mikey repeatedly told you that he is the strongest, but is he really stronger than a muscular giant like Taiju? What if... what if Mikey actually loses?

You wanted to protect Mikey and his gang, so you decided not to tell him. You should really keep it to yourself. But maybe you could still tell him the name of the gang and mention you’d like to put today behind you, and that he should not deal with Black Dragon for such a trivial reason. You shouldn’t go into too much detail. Still, you were really curious. What would Mikey do if you told him who made your day miserable? Would he beat them up just the same as the kids from your school? You were excited to see how he would react.

"Tell me everything."

And when he took your hands in his, his grip warm and steady, those fierce, concerned eyes piercing into your soul, it felt as if the chains  binding your voice shattered into a million of pieces, freeing you at last. With every word that escaped your lips, you unveiled the names of those who had nearly hurt you.

Taiju will be in big trouble, facing his punishment for messing with you. Mikey will destroy this man so badly that he will wish he had never been born.

Taiju is as good as dead.

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It was quite uncommon to see you in such good spirits. Just a week prior, Mikey visited your home for the first time, despite your long-standing friendship. You had the opportunity to play Super Smash Bros together, and you were victorious in every match. Mikey's skills in the game were quite limited. Basically, he sucked at this game. It was a great experience for you; you wished it could last longer. However, as with all good things, the day had to come to an end. He assured you that he would make an effort to spend more time together, despite his demanding responsibilities as the leader of the Tokyo Manji Gang.

You clearly told him about Black Dragon, and it surprised him. He seemed like he was hiding things from you, which made you feel sad since he doesn't share enough of his secrets with you. But you realized it's enough for you that he cares about you. You stopped worrying about his secrets because everyone has them, some more than others.

And when it comes to secrets, the biggest one belonged to Shinichiro Sano. When his secret comes to light, it will alter everything.

Right now, you’re trying to focus on school since graduation is getting closer. You’ve been too stressed to study for your upcoming exams. You hoped you could push away the terrible memories from the past few months. Unfortunately, they still creep back into your thoughts, whether you’re at school, hanging out with your family at home, or out in the city with friends.

It might be nice to go for a walk outside and get some fresh air before sitting back down at your desk for a few hours. As a student, taking short breaks can really help clear your head and give you some energy. It can also help you sort out your thoughts, especially since there have been some things bothering you lately.

How did you end up meeting so many intimidating people in such a short time? It really doesn’t seem like a coincidence at this point. It almost appears as though you are meant to connect with them. You might begin to think that it’s true—you were meant to cross paths with these people. While the reasons may not be immediately clear, you will come to realize in the future the significance you hold, which extends beyond your relationship with Mikey.

You’ll discover some hard truths. It's disturbing to think about, but believe it or not, you haven’t even scratched the surface of the challenges ahead. What you’ve faced so far is just a warm-up compared to what's waiting for you down the road; a fucking nightmare that will grasp you so tightly that there's no escape.

You will find yourself in tears.

Even though it was pouring outside, you still felt at peace as you strolled through the city, breathing in that fresh, earthy aroma of wet soil. As you kept your eyes on the path ahead, you noticed someone running towards you, their figure becoming clearer with each stride. The bustling streets of Shibuya were full of people, yet you were able to easily identify this person from the crowd, having only seen him once before. His blonde hair, with blue strands, fluttered in various directions as he dashed through the streets.

It was hard to tell why he was running like that, but it definitely seemed like he was being chased. You instinctively raised your umbrella higher, straining to catch a glimpse of the scene unfolding in the distance. Through the throng of people moving in every direction, you spotted several police officers, their faces etched with determination, desperately trying to locate Rindo amidst the chaos. 

You found yourself wondering what Rindo might have done to catch the attention of the police. It must have been something serious for them to be on his trail. He would face the consequences of his actions. Young people like Rindo really need to understand that there are consequences for their choices; it's all part of learning and growing up. The earlier they get it, the better chance they have of figuring out how to fit into society and behave in a more positive way.

Typically, one would simply mind their own business, but just as you were about to walk away, you paused. You recalled having mentioned that you would repay him for returning your phone, which you had left at the gym, and for saving your life. But he is a delinquent. The stories you’d heard about him at the gym flashed in your mind, making you feel a little uneasy. Yet, you knew you had to make good on your promise, and something deep down nudged you, telling you that now was the time to step in.

You lowered your umbrella back to your head. Rindo, unaware of your presence due to the way your umbrella obscured your face, was just about to run past you when you instinctively grabbed his arm and pulled him into the corner of a narrow alley. You positioned your umbrella so that it shielded both of you from view.

His purple eyes went wide with surprise. You were so close under the umbrella that people might have mistaken the scene for something more intimate, probably a makeout session. His hair was damp from the rain, a few strands sticking to his forehead, yet it still had that voluminous flair. A few raindrops landed on his round glasses, but he still had a clear view of you standing there.

The police rushed by, unaware to the fact that you were both hidden under the umbrella. Neither of you said a word; it felt like time stood still. You couldn’t tell if it was Rindo's instinct to keep quiet from the police or if he was simply taken aback by your sudden appearance. The reason you could not move a single muscle was that you were flabbergasted that you had actually pulled this off.

You would not end up in jail for saving a hoodlum, right?

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[Author's Note: It's time to have more interaction with Rindo in the next chapter! Just for your understanding: Rindo has purple eyes in this story, as he normally does in the manga, but unfortunately, they changed his eye color in the anime. This is just my opinion, but I definitely like his purple eyes more, and it would have been better in the anime, as Ran has the same purple eyes as in the manga. They even changed Haruchiyo's pink hair from the manga to bleach-blond and altered his eye color to gray. He always had different eye colors in the manga, such as yellow, green, and blue, so at least give him some of those colors in the anime, lmao. Anyway, I hope that Haruchiyo will get his pink hair as an adult in the anime. See you in the next chapter!]

[gohan1]

[Chapter 23]

You hurried home late at night, your footsteps loud as you ran. Yet, despite the urgency coursing through your veins, your footsteps felt oddly muted, almost like you weren’t moving at all—maybe it was just the lingering numbness from lying on the cold ground for so long. You were breathing hard, matching the beat of your steps, and while one arm swung up and down, you pressed your phone to your ear with the other hand. Your lungs felt like they were on fire as you desperately tried to catch your breath, pushing yourself harder to get home as quickly as possible.

It was very quiet outside in the dark, especially since you weren't on the bustling streets of Tokyo, which are always packed with people—so much so that it feels impossible to find a little elbow room on weekends without bumping into someone. You had become a bit more sensitive to sounds after your encounter with Koko, Inupi, and especially Taiju, who was quite intimidating with his strong build and towering height.

Because of that, you found yourself turning your head at every little noise—a rustling bird on a rooftop and sent a jolt of panic coursing through your whole body. You couldn't shake the feeling that Taiju or his two sidekicks might still be lurking nearby, and it really left you rattled after witnessing him hurt his sister so brutally. Sometimes, you even found your imagination running wild, picturing how things might go if Taiju were to beat the crap out of you too. Thankfully, he backed off after seeing you unconscious without even laying a finger on you.

Maybe it would have been better if you had walked a little longer with Yuzuha before parting ways. It's generally safer for girls to be with someone else when it's dark, as it can help you feel a bit more secure. But really, it doesn’t matter if it’s day or night. Criminals can strike anywhere, anytime, just like when Kiyomasa went after you, right there in the schoolyard, or when those guys targeted you on a busy street with other people around. You can't always avoid dangerous situations because unfortunately, there are always bad people around. Sometimes, you might just happen to see something terrible, or even worse, become a victim of someone else's wrongdoing.

Yet, you still hold on to the hope that there are good people out there, even if they’re few and far between. Like Mikey and Chifuyu—they both stepped up to help you when you needed it. And oddly enough, you're grateful to Haruchiyo too. He saved you, even if it was mainly due to his loyalty to Mikey. In the end, he came for you, and that’s what really matters. And Rindo gave you back your phone that you dropped at the gym. Plus he kept you safe from getting hit by a car.

It's hard to ignore the reality that they all live risky lives filled with violence. However, it's not your place to judge who is good and who is bad, even if some actions clearly seem wrong. Sometimes, it's okay to overlook their mistakes and focus on the positive things they’ve done. At least, you believed that this was a reasonable way to think.

Ugh, maybe you're just drawn to how attractive they are. And now you're trying to defend what they do by saying that good-looking guys can’t be criminals.

You must be fucked up in the head.

Your hand was shaking a bit, making it hard to hold your phone without almost dropping it. Almost immediately, the person on the other end answered the call, and as soon as you heard your mother's voice, you wished you could be in her warm embrace right now.

"[Name], oh my goodness! Are you okay? We were so worried about you! Your dad and I tried calling you so many times, and when we didn't hear back, we started to panic. We even had to contact the police to help find you!" Your mom's voice cracked with concern, completely overwhelmed with emotions. She thought of all the terrible things that could have happened and fought to push those nightmarish visions away, but as the hours ticked by and you didn’t respond, anxiety took over. Normally, your grocery runs don’t take this long, and you always make sure to keep them informed if your plans change.

"I'm f-fine," you stammered, but even as the words left your lips, fresh tears began to well up in your eyes, spilling over like a river breaking free from a dam. You were taken aback by the realization that, despite everything you had endured, you still had tears left.

Through your mother's breaths, her words tumbled out in a cascade of relief, each syllable dripping with gratitude that you were safe. It was as if an unbearable weight had been lifted off her shoulders in an instant, the moment she finally heard your voice.

"Where are you? We'll come to you," she said, her voice steadier now despite her earlier tears.

"I'm just around the corner," you reassured her, your tense body relaxing as you realized you'd soon be home. You'd have the time you needed to process everything that had happened today. As cars drove by, their headlights lit up the streets, making your surroundings feel a little cozier. Your parents were already waiting outside, and when they saw you coming towards them in the dark, they rushed to give you a big hug without hesitation.

It felt like you hadn’t seen each other in ages.

"[Name], [Name], [Name]," your dad said over and over as he gently stroked your head, trying to reassure himself that his beloved daughter was really there and not a figment of his imagination.

“[Name], what happened to your clothes?” your mother wondered, her eyes wide as she noticed the dirt on your back while giving you a hug.

Oh, this is the dirt from lying on the ground...You weren't sure if you should tell them everything. At first, you just wanted to say that some people were bothering you for a while, but then they stopped. But since your parents noticed the mess on your clothes, you felt like you needed to explain.

"I had some trouble with a few people and-"

"They pushed you to the ground?!" your mother interrupted.

"N-No...I just passed out without knowing it, so they left me alone and didn't hurt me."

You decided not to share more about what happened, like the fact that things escalated because you were trying to help a girl who was being hurt by her brother. If you had just walked away after meeting Inupi and Koko when Taiju came up to you, you would have been okay. But the thought of seeing a girl hurt really struck a chord with you, especially when you found out it was her brother's doing.

You also came to realize that you might have been a bit naive, thinking words could really solve the problem when these guys probably grew up surrounded by violence. Your parents were understandably disturbed when they imagined the moment of seeing their daughter unconscious. The intensity of the fear caused your body to shut down in response.

"Everything is okay now, sweetie. You’re back home and you’re safe, which is the most important thing. We need to let the police know that you made it home on your own, so they can stop searching for-...Oh dear, we should definitely tell Manjiro kun that [Name] is alright before he starts worrying even more!," your mother exclaimed. Your father nodded approvingly as he finally released you from the hug, just like your mother did.

Manjiro?

Did your parents inform him that they were unable to contact you for several hours?

You blinked in surprise, needing a moment to wrap your head around the fact that your mother just mentioned Mikey''s name. Your parents realized that you were totally puzzled as you looked at them with question marks written all over your face. You could not believe it. It was so hard to let the words into your mind that Sano Manjiro, the invincible Mikey, was worried about you.

He was worried about someone like you?

Your mother softly smiled at you. "When we did not hear anything from you, we thought that you might have met up with Manjiro kun on the way home, or at least hoped that he knew where you were. He was so concerned about you that he promised us he would do everything to find you and immediately hung up the phone in a rush."

Just a little while ago, you were dealing with a nightmare, but now everything was different, and you could actually feel your heart racing in your chest—it’s almost like it wants to jump right out. But you reminded yourself not to get too carried away. You've known Mikey long enough to see that he always puts his friends before himself, so you realized it wasn’t just you he cared about.

You were not special.

Deep down, you knew this was a hard truth to accept, but you tried to ignore how much it affected you. Swallowing that harsh reality was like choking down jagged glass. It stung, it truly did, but you wore the facade, convincing yourself that it didn’t bother you, that you could endure it.

"I am the only person you need, [Name]"

His kind and soothing voice kept echoing in your mind, like a stuck music player playing the same tune. These were Mikey's words after Chifuyu told him that you were in danger from others, but luckily, you were saved in the end, even if it was Haruchiyo who helped you.

You were glad that Mikey wants you to lean on him for support. In the end, he was right that you probably just need him as a friend in your life. You’ve known him the longest since you both grew up together as kids. Even with all that time, sometimes you still feel a bit distant from him. It seems like there are parts of his life that he doesn't share with you. Of course, he doesn’t have to tell you everything—it’s really up to him how much he wants to share. But it would be nice if he could open up to you a little more, even though it’s a bit funny to think about, since you’re not that different from him when it comes to sharing things about yourself.

When you were a kid, you worried that people didn’t really care to listen to you because you thought they might find you boring. You weren’t very outgoing back then; you were more the quiet type who spoke up only when someone asked you a question. Even now, you don’t talk a lot with others, especially when you’re around new people. However, you push yourself to join conversations to get better at connecting with others.

Mikey helped you a lot by practicing with you to talk about random topics to get you engaged and more comfortable around him. It was a bit embarrassing for you to learn from someone who is two years younger than you, but after a bit of time passed, you realized that he is even more mature than you—only sometimes, but still.

Yeah, you definitely want him in your life. But does he feel the same way about you? It’s been a while since you had the chance to lend him a hand. You could help him with school since you're a good student, but he’s not going anymore, so now you don’t really have any way to assist him. It’s a shame because learning used to be one of your biggest strengths...Maybe school was your only real strength.

"[Name]!"

It's amazing how much you've been thinking about him—it's almost like you can hear his voice as if he's right next to you.  

"[Name], are you okay?!"  

Wow, his voice sounds so real that it's a little scary to hear such a clear voice in your head.

When you heard your name again, you turned to look at the front yard of your house.

Um...What the actual fuck? Do you need to get your eyes checked?

Mikey is rushing to your side behind you, and when he finally stands next to you, you realize that there is nothing wrong with your eyes. The sweat forming on his face and a few strands of his blonde hair sticking to his cheeks and forehead are proof that he is not just an illusion.

He was breathing heavily, his eyes fixed on you.

"You’re...okay," he said quietly, still trying to catch his breath as he looked you over. He paused for a moment before firmly grabbing your shoulders. A bit firmer than usual.

"Your parents told me you didn’t come home. I tried calling you so many times and even looked for you outside, hoping to find you...What happened?" His voice was filled with worry, and although it wasn’t very noticeable, you could sense it shaking a little. His hands also felt a bit unsteady on your shoulders.

Was he scared? There’s absolutely no way you could be misreading this situation. Why on earth would Mikey roam the dark for hours on end, tirelessly searching for you in the night? He must have been consumed by the same fear that gripped your parents, terrified of what could have happened to you. You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t really notice what he was wearing. It was only when Mikey moved his hands off your shoulders that you finally got a good look at him.

He was wearing loose black pants with a long-sleeved black shirt, which had a wide round neckline slightly off the shoulders. A white tank top peeking out from underneath. Obviously, he was wearing flip-flops.

"Manjiro kun, thank you so much for trying to find [Name]," your mother said with a warm smile. "You must be tired, so why not come in for dinner? It’ll help warm you up from the cold outside." She smiled at Mikey and bowed her head slightly, just like your father did. You almost forgot your parents were there because you were so focused on how Mikey was worried about you and even rode his motorcycle to look for you, which he parked in your front yard. He used to be just as worried back then, and you felt a strange flutter in your stomach, just like now.

Wait, what did your mother just say?

"You don’t need to thank me; it was the least I could do, but I really didn’t—What? Um...You want me to eat here?"

Mikey looked just as surprised as you did.

"Of course! Or do you want me to pack your food like usual? You know, I just realized you've never come inside our house. It's always [Name] who goes to visit your family. Why don't you come over this time? We’d love to have dinner with [Name]'s friend!" your mother said, smiling even wider. She stood behind Mikey and playfully nudged him toward the door. Mikey glanced at you, looking for a sign that it was okay for him to come in. You quickly nodded, hoping your cheeks wouldn’t give away how flustered you were feeling.

Mikey took a deep breath.

He really tried not to look too closely at your house, not wanting to make you feel awkward. To be honest, he had never visited before because he thought it might not be the best idea, especially with your parents at work. He really didn’t want you to feel uneasy about having him over at your house as a boy. But since your parents were home this time, it should be fine, right? Plus, your parents were really keen on having dinner together, so it wouldn't be easy for him to come up with a reason to leave.

Mikey may be the leader of Toman, but he values being considerate of others' feelings (nice joke). He really puts in the effort to make his friends happy (Bonten Mikey says otherwise). And while it might sound a bit surprising, the only truth is that he genuinely wants to show you his good side, even if things can sometimes get a bit out of hand.

"I will need approximately an hour to prepare the food. [Name], would you like to spend some time in your room?" your mother suggested, which instantly caused you to feel a rush of anxiety, leaving you visibly startled, while Mikey appeared puzzled by your reaction. Your father went silent after the encounter with Mikey, but began to choke on his water upon realizing a boy would be alone with you in your room. Your mother was a bit more laid-back about boys, and since Mikey is your childhood friend, she felt comfortable letting you both hang out in your room together.

So here you and Mikey were, standing by your room’s door. He stood a step behind you, waiting for you to open it. He was starting to wonder if maybe you didn’t want him to see your room. If that were the case, he would totally understand and suggest spending time with your family until dinner was ready. Just as he was about to say something, you turned to him, feeling heat rise to your cheeks, and suddenly found it hard to meet his gaze with those deep black eyes of his.

"M-Mikey, I really hope you don’t mind, but I’m a little worried my room might not be...uh...presentable? I’m not even sure if I made my bed right. Could you hang tight for just a moment while I quickly check things out? I just want to make sure it’s okay for you to come in. I hope this doesn’t seem rude, but it would be super embarrassing if my room looked like a battle field."

Oh, is that what was bothering you? Honestly, he wouldn’t mind too much since his room can get a bit messy too.

As long as your underwear isn’t on display...But would he even care about that? Suddenly, he slapped his hands onto his cheeks, making you jump a little.  

"A-Are you alright?"

“Yeah,” he grinned, though he was mentally kicking himself for having such an inappropriate thought.

Finally, Mikey stepped into your room for the very first time. He noticed you had plenty of space and everything you needed: a cozy bed, a desk with a chair, a TV on a dresser with a video game console, and a big bookshelf in one corner. There was even a small table with pillows on the floor for seating. The colors in your room were bright and mostly girly with your decorations, but strangely, this was just how he pictured it would look.

You decided to play Smash Bros while sitting on your bed. Mikey was sitting a little farther away, which made you feel a bit sad, but you didn’t want to let it show. Maybe it was for the best; you thought it would help you focus more on the game. Fortunately, playing games together helped lighten the mood, and even better, you were winning! You kept using Kirby to kick Mikey’s character around and timing your hammer swings perfectly so his character flew off the screen and hit the TV. When you glanced over, you saw Mikey pouting and furiously pressing buttons, but he wasn’t having much luck and looked pretty frustrated.

"Did you just eat me?!" he exclaimed, shocked as Kirby opened his mouth to suck in Mikey’s character and steal his power.

"I’m really not enjoying this game," he said, crossing his arms after losing for the tenth time.

"Really? I’m having a blast winning against the invincible Mikey, even if it’s just in a game! Haha, but hey, it's still a victory!"

"You look like you're having a good time," he said with a gentle smile, turning to face you while his game console rested on the bed beside him.

"Yeah, even though I'm sick of the fact that I cannot be a great fighter in real life too."

You tried to make it sound jokingly, but the tone of your voice betrayed you. You were deeply sad that you were so weak, completely frustrated that you had to rely on others. Why are you always so vulnerable?

"Why?"

"I feel like I can't keep the people I care about safe if I'm not strong. I struggle to handle people like Kiyomasa, so how could I possibly stand up to someone even tougher? I'm not strong enough, not just in body but also in mind... I want to protect you, but I am so weak."

"To protect me?"

"Oh God, I am so sorry; it was so stupid of me! Obviously, you do not need protection, especially not from someone like me. You are the invincible Mikey. You can handle everything on your own, and you never feel scared when you are confronted with your enemies."

You had a horrible day, but when you played Smash Bros with Mikey, you were so happy that you laughed at his struggle to beat you. Now, though, you were sobbing again. You only realized it when small drops of water fell onto your hands, which were clenched in your lap. Mikey let out a heavy sigh. You were scared that he was angry with you and even humiliated that you had considered protecting him when he was the strongest. But his anger never showed. Instead, he scooted closer on the bed and put his arm around your shoulder.

"You’re absolutely right. I am the strongest. I don’t need anyone to shield me," he said softly, his voice imbued with a tender strength.

Your shoulders fell, a moment of sorrow washing over you.

"But... it means the world to me that you still wish to protect me. It’s a testament to how deeply I matter to you, just as you are important to me. Who knows? The odds may be incredibly slim, but perhaps there will come a day when I need your protection."

Mikey was not offended in the slightest; instead, a gentle smile blossomed on his lips, and as he gazed at you, his dark eyes shimmered with warmth. He mumbled a heartfelt "thank you," his voice barely above a whisper, but the sincerity in it radiated like a thousand suns breaking through the clouds.

"And you know, I have to be honest—sometimes I get really scared, especially when it comes to you. When your parents called me, I was looking for you everywhere like a madman. I would have done anything to find you. I was ready to turn the world upside down."

You looked into his eyes, and your tears had finally stopped.

"I even threatened some punks and beat the shit out of them to get some information on your whereabouts. I didn't want to tell you all this, but I need you to know how much you mean to me..." He took a quick breath and continued, "Even when we were kids, I was always ready to stand up for you. I beat up every student in your school, making them go straight to the hospital. I know that hurting girls is a no-go in my opinion, but even the girls who were jealous of you... I also hurt them."

Did Shinichiro want to tell you the same thing about Mikey before he died three years after you told him that you were bullied? And then suddenly the bullying mysteriously stopped. And now you know why.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asked, his voice steady, yet a flicker of something deeper lingered in the air. His neutral expression remained unchanged, but he could feel your body trembling in his unexpected embrace. Darkness encased Mikey's form, his eyes ablaze with an ominous fire, but you felt no threat from this man; instead, a magnetic pull drew you closer. You wrapped your arms tightly around him, resting your head against his collarbone, feeling the warmth of his body as you nuzzled against him.

You should be scared of him. Yes, you definitely should be scared of someone like him. You should resent him for doing something so terrible. You should not even reciprocate the hug, but you were clinging to his black shirt, gripping it tightly with your fingers.

And the most twisted part of it all—you were overcome with joy.

"I am so happy, Mikey," you whispered. Your cheeks were flushed as you tilted your head, letting his blonde hair dance softly against your skin, igniting a fluttering excitement within you.

He is so handsome.

Yeah, you must be fucked up in the head to enjoy this.

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[Author's Note: This chapter turned out to be a bit longer than I anticipated, but I really wanted to dive into the "dark impulses" of Mikey. We'll explore this theme more as the story unfolds, and there’s definitely some darker content coming up—not just with Mikey, but with the other love interests too! So, what do you think of Reader?]