. Word Count — 4.1k
. Warnings — None!
. Contents — Late nights, annoying 5012, hints of insomnia, mutual bullying, Caspy Waspy is mentioned, 5012 being the workaholic he is, annoying 5012, existential questions and possible dread, lost memories, amnesia, fluff, comedy, soft angst, chickens, Reader is 0213 and gender neutral, did I say annoying 5012?
Prologue — Bothering 5012 is always fun. Bothering him about being a shut in that always stays in his office? Even funnier. Except that it quickly takes a deeper turn... and you decide to visit him every night
5012’s office door greeted you quietly.
Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork and paperwork again.
At this point when you thought about 5012, senior Grim Reaper and your trainer, you could only picture his face covered by stacks of paper.
Was that normal?
Why would a place full of dead people need so many files?
Souls probably, classified information, those terminated reapers in need of rescue and yada yada yada.
You fumbled with the edge of your shirt, stalling.
0204, Atlas, was nowhere to be found, probably off to sleep or… honestly you didn’t know. Did you even want to know?
Your section of HQ was quiet. Time was frozen in the Underworld, but it was supposed to be past midnight in the human world, and Reapers either set out for missions or rested around that time, for convenience.
In all that stillness, and boredom, you thought that it would be a good idea to greet your oh so dear trainer.
Taking for granted his probable irritation… ahem.
How should you even approach him? It was never easy, but not difficult either.
You kind of rehearsed your greeting while climbing the stairs to his office: barging into the room rather loudly and risk getting punched in the face.
No, you thought, you would revisit the idea for another day.
And there you were, listening to the led lights buzzing above you. In silence.
Waiting, anticipating.
“Are you going to come in or not?” His voice, muffled by the door.
It didn’t even scare you, it just surprised you a tiny bit.
“Just so you know, you probably look stupid standing idle like that, especially out of my office,” he continued.
Rude.
“First of all,” you slowly pushed the door open, “rude.”
Your face peered from the crack.
“Second of all,” you slid in the room, closing the door behind you, “you’re ugly.”
A smile adorned your lips, yet the man on the other side of the office, sitting behind his desk, didn’t even raise his eyes, “you’ll find out that I do not care about your opinion of me 0213.”
He flipped a file over, unbothered. "Especially when it’s uncalled for.”
What a grump.
In the new found silence you took in his office again. It was the same as always, but every time something appeared and disappeared.
A stack of files, an unfinished cup of coffee, 5012’s coat on the chair, books opened on random pages and so on.
It was like an ecosystem, a very sad one of course. Changing and working in its own way.
“Why are you here, 0213? You’re awfully quiet,” the grumpy, ugly, boring, absolutely lame man spoke again.
“Ah, uhm, I was distracted sorry,” you walked further into the room.
“Distracted by?” He barely raised his eyebrows, “why you of course,” you teased, smiling.
5012 refused to look at you, and to entertain you.
“Do you need help big boss?” You peered over the stack of papers. “Hardly, you’d only make things… harder."
“Tell me about it,” a stupid grin formed on you face, eyes wandering around before setting on the guy in front of you, who was already looking at you, sternly.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” you raised your hands defensively, only relaxing after his glare left you.
“Can I at least stay here?” You probably would’ve stayed anyway.
“Why?”
“There’s no one around and nothing to do.”
“Go rest.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“How would I know? I still don’t understand this Grim Reaper body,” you huffed, he sighed.
“Just be quiet.” He rubbed his temples, sliding his fingers down his face in resignation.
A few minutes went by, you could only hear your breathing and the occasional pen scratching the paper's surface.
5012’s office was very dark, and very purple… dark purple.
You slowly made you way around it, taking in the subtle details, the titles of the books, the pattern of their covers, the arrangement of the tiles on the floor. Some were uneven.
Your curiosity took you to the big window. Looking down you saw a street, in front of you endless “sky scrapers”.
You knew the word, but never actually stopped to think about it, how could a building scratch the sky if there was no sky?
“How high up are we?” You leaned against the glass.
“If you’re planning to jump down I’d advise against it,” he tapped his pen on the desk.
“Wh— Why would I do that?! I already died once,” you twisted your neck to look at him weird.
“0204 once said that he wanted to test his fall damage, maybe he shared that stupid idea with you,” you alerted the distinct tone of annoyance in 5012’s voice.
“Well, even if he did… I’m not him, and it’s not like I go along everything he does—“
“…?”
“Mostly.” You coughed.
And then silence again.
You finished scrutinizing his room and returned in front of 5012, sitting on one of the chairs.
“Your office is cozy. I get why you’re always here,” your arms flopped on the table, next to some signed files.
“I’m glad it’s to you liking but I’m not always here, 0213.”
“Every time I come knocking you’re here.”
“Pure coincidence.”
“When do you go out?”
“Occasionally.”
Silence.
“Are you sure you can’t lie?” You raised one eyebrow.
“I can lie, but chose not to,” he huffed.
“So you’re not lying now.”
“No, 0213, I am not.”
“But you’re avoiding the truth. Because it’s a fact that you’re shut in here most of the time,” you’ve been staring at the man for a while now, and just then he returned your gaze.
Not matching your energy at all… but at least he was looking at you.
He cleared his throat.
“Should’t you be resting? We have stuff to do in some hours,” you looked at the clock.
“I already told you, I can’t fall asleep. Check your hearing grandpa.”
You smiled, he did not.
In all honesty, if 5012 could, he’d be smashing his head on the table with much pleasure… and until the surface molded into the shape of his face
“Why did you come here?” He interlaced his hands together, resting his chin against them. Purple irises dug deep into you, were 5012’s eyes always so sharp?
“I wanted to keep you company,” your voice quivered with embarrassment. You wondered, on a scale from 1 to 10, how much you looked stupid while saying that.
“I do not need your company, 0213.” He repeated the word with a strange tone, almost as if he was pronouncing it for the first time.
“Wow you’re so emo.” You dead panned.
“Here I was trying to be kind,” you continued, folding your arms.
“I don’t need your kindness either, you’ll see that’s something the Underworld is lacking.” The senior Grim Reaper grimaced.
“I guess I’ll be the first kind Grim Reaper,” you whispered to yourself, fidgeting with your sleeves.
5012’s eyes snapped to your face, scanning you and maybe your very soul, in a pensive silence.
Silly him probably forgot to look away because you caught him right in the act when you focused on him once again.
“Do I have something on my face?” You joked, ignoring the weight of his attention.
“No you do not,” he began. “It just surprised me, what you said.” He blinked, dragging his eyes to the window and… staring, glaring, admiring it.
You expected him to elaborate further, but he didn’t, and you both sat in silence once again.
It was comfortable, for you of course. For that emo guy over there, probably not.
You could only hear outside world, 5012’s office acted as a bubble, quiet, floating over the everything.
“Why?” You heard him ask.
To who? You weren’t sure. He wasn’t looking at you.
“What?” You asked, caught off guard.
You swore you saw his body shake and stiffen, barely, but you knew it did. His eyes were on yours again, for one second he looked startled and the next it was gone.
“I,” his mouth hung agape in thought.
“I think you should go 0213,” his voice gradually got colder, back to his usual tone huh.
“Why?” You asked, confused.
Why.
“I need to continue with my work, alone. You are distracting in the worst ways,” he fixed his necklace and jacket, nervously.
“Did I do something?”
“Just go, I’ll see you later for training,” he refused to look at you.
You could only imagine the consequences of pushing him too far, so you let it go.
“Okay,” you got up, the leather of the chair creaking under your weight.
“Goodnight then, or good day,” you put on a light hearted tone while walking backwards towards the door, 5012 never looked at you.
Your smile faltered. Finding the handle you disappeared once again, in the cold and silent halls of the building.
Why?
If eyes could burn, 5012’s office door would’ve been reduced to ashes.
Brows furrowed, eyes squinted, various lines caused by tension decorated the man’s face.
His body was still stiff, until he deflated all at once, fingers creeping up to rub his eyes in frustration? Anger? Tiredness? Fuck him if he knew.
Staring at the spot you left empty, 5012’s night went on.
A sound from your computer caught your attention, you rolled on your bed, one of the plushies from the infamous claw machine in your arms.
Another sound, and another.
“Hmpf,” you wobbled towards your desk.
Atlas: “Earth, or idk, to oh two one three”
Atlas: “I was thinking, why not go try to make a mysterious food from we find in the kitchen? Who knows how the Underworld stuff reacts to each other…”
Atlas: “Helloooooo???”
You stared at the text, grinning.
0213: “Hi chicken”
Atlas: “I’m not.”
0213: “Honk honk”
Atlas: “That’s not how chickens sing”
0213: “How do you know?”
Atlas: “I saw a video duh”
0213: “Did you now…”
Atlas: “Here look”
Atlas: *1 attachment
…
0213: “woW”
Atlas: “Aaaaaaanyways,,, how are you? Wanna hit the kitchen?”
0213: “Not today sorry, I have a lot on my mind.”
Atlas: “I want to have your lot on my mind swell ;)”
0213: “5012 was mean to me”
0213: “:(((((((“
Atlas: “hOw Dare he, cold hearted king!”
Atlas: “He’s such a doofus.”
You would’ve searched the meaning of that word later.
0213: “Has he been weird with you too or…?”
Atlas: “He’s always weird with me, I mean in the mean way.”
You asked a stupid question. Or just to the wrong person.
Atlas: “Maybe he’s in THAT time of the month.”
0213: “Huh”
Atlas: “Idk dude, he probably hadn't had his coffee when you talked to him.”
0213: “We’ll wait and see, now go be useful to the world.”
Atlas: “You mean being absolutely useful to society and sending the claw machine in bankruptcy?”
0213: “Honestly I don’t even remember what that word meant but sure, pop off diva!”
You logged out of your iReaper, pondering on what to do in this soon to be boring day.
5012 hadn’t called any meeting nor training yet, which was weird, but until further notice you were free. As much as you were.
It wasn’t like your newborn soul was chained with this association of Grim Reapers that totally killed people, without a way out.
Heh. Free time!
Although, it confused you. 5012, senior Grim Reaper, role model, dutiful worker deathly dedicated to his job, didn’t alert you about working.
Nor training, not even complaining about some crazy shit 0204 pulled.
Checking up on him wouldn’t have been a bad idea, not a good one either.
Your feet went on autopilot and when you snapped out of your thoughts, you were back in front of that office.
Determine as you were nothing could’ve stopped you!
“Oh 5012!” Hand on the door handle you were ready to burst in until… the door didn’t budge.
“Huh,” you rattled it, lightly at first, then harder, gripping it with your whole strength, making the whole door shake.
He either closed you out or wasn’t in the room at all.
You could’ve knocked this thing down. No, too extreme.
Resting your hands on your hips you huffed.
“I guess I’ll come back later. With a chainsaw. This isn’t over, fuckass door.”
You glared daggers at the piece of building as you walked away.
Your steps faded out and silence settled back in, the two men in the room relaxed.
“Didn’t know your trainee was so, direct,” the white haired guy spoke first.
“What was direct in what they did?” 5012 asked, annoyed.
“Almost taking the door out of its hinges.”
“They’d know better.”
“Are they always like that?”
“Abrupt?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve got two of them, actually three with you.”
“Hey, rude.”
“Casper, you should go, wouldn’t want to be eavesdropped on a second time.”
1 am. You were back. Along with your… will? You couldn’t find a chainsaw.
Skipping the knocking you directly went to the offensive, trying to open the door, which again, didn’t budge.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you cursed under your breath, pushing and pulling it angrily.
Suddenly you heard a clicking sound, and got dragged along the door as it opened. Revealing a very, very, annoyed 5012.
Your hands were glued to the handle, sweaty.
“Oops, hi boss,” you did everything you could to avoid his gaze.
“Sometimes I wonder why they made you a Reaper 0213,” he sighed.
“I guess I’m that good,” a stupid grin was plastered on your face, letting go of the door.
“I half thought you wouldn’t be here, and actually asleep,” you continued.
“So you DO spend all your time in here,” you pointed an accusing finger to the tall man.
“Is that why you’re here?”
“Yes and also, uhm, to ask why there wasn’t training today.”
“Paperwork kept me busy,” his voice was lower than usual, taking a good look at him, you noticed that he looked more tired. And that was surprising considering he looked tired all the time.
“Can I help?” You smiled, encouraging the man to say yes.
“No,” he replied quickly, “but, I appreciate the offer.”
Your stomach flipped upon hearing 5012’s tone soften. Damn.
“Of course,” you looked down at the floor.
“Can I at least stay here? I’ll be good!”
“I have a feeling that you will stay regardless of what I may say,” the Grim Reaper sulked away, defeated, and headed back to his desk.
“You know me so well!” You followed him with a skip in your step.
The night passed in the quiet of 5012’s office. Having small talks every now and then, insulting each other.
The thought of your trainer never resting lingered.
Persistently.
You weren’t REALLY worried though.
...
Ok, you were. A tiny bit.
So you kept “visiting”, sacrificing your nights to stay with him and the days to hang out with 0204. After a while you also resumed training.
5012 never questioned the real reason behind your nightly appearances, and if he was bothered by it, he didn’t show it through and through.
It became a habit, going to the “purple room”.
Every night he was in his spot, refusing to rest.
Because his job was his life, and he wanted to feel alive, to have a purpose.
A week passed of you and him spending your nights together, obviously 5012 couldn’t have a say in this.
Tonight was no different. You were lounging under the big window, asking stupid questions to the other man, for the sake of wasting his time.
“Why can’t chickens fly?” You quizzed.
“How did you learn about chickens?”
“Atlas told me about them, they’re cute,” you smiled, focusing on the faraway buildings. Imagining a chicken flying from one to the other.
“I don’t know why I’m answering you, but no. From what I know and saw, chickens can’t fly,” 5012 facepalmed, you giggled.
The night went on like that, you asking his favorite candy, him admitting that he never had one, you being shocked before moving on to another question.
Before the both of you realized it, you fell into a habit of being there for each other. Well, sort of.
You fell into the habit of being there and 5012 into the one of, waiting. Waiting for you.
He slowly noticed how he’d think about you in the evening, whether you’d show up or how’d you show up.
A week in, tonight, before you made your appearance he made sure to tide up any misplaced objects and hide the fragile ones just because he saw you almost trip on yourself during training, and decided that he wanted nothing to do with broken objects.
“I heard that Reapers can fly,” you spoke suddenly, he nodded.
“Is there a secret or…?” You tilted your head.
“No, it’ll come to you eventually.”
The man looked at the window, you followed his line of sight.
There was nothing outside.
A dark, empty sky and tall, cold buildings.
You whispered something about reaching the moon, or the sun.
5012 did’t immediately ask you why.
He pondered, and wondered how you could remember what those two things were.
In the end he did ask, carefully.
When did he start being cautious around you?
“Oh I,” you paused, staring at him.
“I don’t. I don’t remember. I just feel that I want to see them.”
You smile, a bit confused yourself.
“You could always describe them to me,” you fidgeted with your clothes. "So at least I’d know what I want to reach,” you joked.
The senior Reaper stared back at you. Searching, questioning.
He surprised you when he complied, beginning with the Sun.
Pure light, he said, warmth, the opposite of whatever you had seen in the Underworld.
Then the Moon.
Something you figured he preferred by how he talked about it.
“The Moon has been my only companion, since the beginning of this long job. The only real witness of all the souls I’ve taken,” his eyes slowly set on his desk, his hands intertwined.
“Many mortals spoke to the Moon before their end, they asked for mercy, kindness. Sometimes for a reason.”
He paused, thinking, calculating, recalling.
And as quickly as he started, he stopped, abruptly.
“Yeah that’s all.”
5012 cleared his throat, collecting pieces of his cold attitude, building his wall once again.
You had perked up during his explanation, his delicate tone caught you off guard. So reverent, smooth, chilling.
You decided against teasing him about it. He felt like a wild animal when he was near you. Inching closer, painfully slow and running so far away if noticed.
You kept your tongue in your mouth.
“Just a big ball of light in the sky,” he spoke, rushing his words.
“And the other is a smaller ball, white.”
You nodded.
“I’d like to see them one day, maybe even touch them,” you blinked, eyes meeting the vast black sky.
5012 thought about saying something about it being impossible AND dangerous. He did not. He let you dream.
But why did you want to reach the sun, the moon?
Why did you want to be kind?
Why?
Your conversations swayed between unbelievably stupid topics to extremely deep ones in matter of minutes.
First you were asking about the moon, then how many plastic balls would be needed to fill the Reaper’s office.
Then about your lost life, and later about fishes.
One day you asked about the stars. You had heard other Reapers talk about them and you, obviously, got curious, and decided to rely on 5012cyclopedia.
“It’s been a while since you asked me about space,” the man noted.
It had been a little more than 2 weeks since you started nagging your trainer.
“They’re small white dots in the sky,” the corners of his mouth curled slightly.
“They’re little moons!” You smiled.
“Not quite but to the human eye, I suppose.”
“Can you reach them?”
“0213 we can’t even reach the moon, which is pretty close.”
No response.
Another day you met him at the coffee machine. The first thing you noticed were his prominent eye bags.
Not that he never had them, but they were particularly dark tonight.
5012’s eyes quickly found you. Zeroing on you from the side.
“Rough night?” You asked.
“Rough everything. 0204 covered my office in confetti.”
He looked —more like glared— down at his coffee mug.
A few seconds of silence passed, 5012 suddenly felt his blood pressure rise. “Please don’t ask me anyth—“
“What’s your favorite blend of coffee?”
Ugh.
And it went on. And on, and on, and on.
Night after night.
He thought of you as a nuisance at first, but gradually reconsidered your presence as an ALMOST entertaining one.
He wondered if you sacrificed your sleep for him.
The idea made him smile. Wait, no, huh?
Maybe you didn’t sleep at all. Or you did, just not at night.
Until finally, after a month of you stating that 5012 was a recluse who only stayed in his office, his pride took over, deciding to prove you wrong.
How?
One evening he quickly messaged you that he wouldn’t have been in his office that night and to not search him. No further explanation and no clues.
Turns out he decided to hang out on the building rooftop, not expecting you to show up.
Firstly because he didn’t tell you where he was, and secondly because you didn’t know how to reach that place.
That is until you, somehow, barged through the stairs’ door.
“How did you—“
“I started asking about you and searching for a way up here as soon as you texted me. It’s that simple.”
No it’s not, it wasn’t, it shouldn’t have been.
You’re dumb, stupid.
He didn’t say anything.
“Why the change of location?” You walked up to him, looking at the scenery.
“Birdwatching.”
You stopped next to him.
“There are birds in the Underworld?”
“I’m messing with you 0213.”
You snapped your head towards 5012, he was looking at the other buildings ahead.
“Since when do you lie?”
“It wasn’t a lie, it was a joke.”
“Even worse. Since when can you joke?”
“You and 0204 are a bad influence.”
“Rude.”
You swore you saw a smirk grace 5012’s face.
Your voice and Casper’s mixed in his mind, reminiscing when the other “Reaper” told him the same thing.
“Anyways,” you chirped, “you finally left your office!”
He huffed, annoyed.
Was it worth entertaining you? He didn’t answer.
In the quiet of the night you thought that... this was nice, chatting with 5012. Then you noticed that you were smiling to yourself.
Ah…
You shielded you face from him, suddenly embarrassed.
If he saw you like that he probably would’ve called you an idiot.
Luckily the man was distracted by the dark sky above.
“Say 0213,” he whispered.
Why.
“Why do you want to reach the moon and the sun?”
Your eyes widened, surprised.
He remembered that?
“Uhm,” you paused, not exactly knowing why.
The reason was buried in your lost memories.
But it felt right —like your name— to grasp at anything and everything connecting you to the human world. To the lost you.
Purple eyes pierced you. Waiting.
“I saw a few pictures of them and I…” the words died in your throat.
Your brain was digging, clawing at something that was no longer there.
“It just felt… I felt, grief.”
Grief.
5012’s eyes softened.
He hummed, acknowledging your answer, eyes meeting the sky once more. Oh, how eyes could tell everything.
During the shared nights the man had unconsciously learned to read you better. He never wanted to, but still, it happened.
His tongue trembled in his mouth.
It downed on him the reality of the situation. Two mortals now dead and reborn anew. Two beings that had to learn how to “live” again, on the rooftop of a random building, in a cold city. Alone.
He thought he got used to it. But you… you were new to this.
You truly were alone in that world.
It was a rare occurrence, seeing 5012 have mercy, be kind.
But that night, engulfed in death with you, he gave you solace.
“0213,” his tone was painfully delicate.
Only then you noticed the proximity.
It was both suffocating and comforting at the same time.
You hummed low, curious.
Some time ago, you'd never thought you'd find yourself having serious talks with 5012.
You only ever wanted to poke him. Annoy him.
But you longed for more. You yearned.
In him you could start seeing a person. Someone worth discovering.
Someone that made your heart squeeze and your stomach twist.
Because he knew what having it hard felt like.
Only God knew how your lived your human life.
Yet your body remembered.
In him you saw someone who could understand, even if he refused to.
And then, only then, the man showed a piece of his heart. To you.
“I will show you the moon.”
Thank you for reading this short oneshot! Hope you enjoyed!
English is not my first language, sorry for little errors!
Your potential death due to your curse was no secret, yet there was still a promise of time – time for you (and those who’re willing to help you) to find a cure, a solution to your plight.
No one expected your death to come so suddenly.
(Or, a look into how the Darkwick Academy ghouls may react to your passing)
You’re no stranger to tragedy, but your death still comes as a surprise to you. Perhaps you should’ve expected it, what with your luck continuing its downward spiral to misfortune. Maybe you should’ve expected someone who despised you to take matters into their own hands, deciding to rid this world of your existence before you became a disastrous anomaly – before you even had a chance to fight your fate.
Regret upon regret builds a castle inside your bleeding body. Apologies, confessions – all of them slowly die in your throat.
You should’ve expected it all.
But you didn’t.
So now you lay, your blood a perfect canvas to frame your loss of life.
Your sage’s ring glows dimly on your finger.
.
.
.
“The Honor Student has passed away,” the Masterpiece Newscasters proclaim, their monotone voice ringing clearly throughout Darkwick Academy. “The culprit is yet to be found. All residents are forbidden to leave the premises until the criminal is found.”
As the Masterpiece Newscasters continue to prattle on about the false information of the Honor Student’s – your – passing, Yuri can feel a headache erupt from behind his eyelids. He’s already slept less than the recommended amount today, he doesn’t need this added stress! There’s no way you’re gone, it’s just not possible. You so bravely faced that immortal anomaly after all, so how could you be dead?
Yuri Isami is only heading to your place of residence to put these bizarre rumors to a rest.
Even when he sees your crumpled body on the floor, Yuri doesn’t believe it – you must have chosen to sleep oddly!
Even when he feels the coldness of your skin, he doesn’t believe it – you just need a blanket!
Even when he doesn’t hear your heartbeat, he doesn’t believe it – you must be acting!
No, no, he has to be realistic. You’re definitely sick. He has to help you. He has to save you! He can save you! He’s the greatest doctor, after all! He can think of so many ways to save you. He can, if you just enhance his stigma, so why don’t you do it? Yuri clutches your hand in his, hands trembling.
“Why won’t you enhance my stigma, worm?” he mumbles. “You can do at least this much, can’t you? You have the opportunity to help the great Yuri Isami! It’s an honor!”
“Yes, it’s an honor to help you,” you had said, laughing. Yuri could be quite particular about laughs, but he didn’t mind yours because there wasn’t anything patronizing about it. “You’re amazing, Yuri.”
“Hmph, well, it’s good that you know your place,” he had responded haughtily. He wishes he could’ve told you how grateful he was that you believed in him. That you were interested in him and his research. That you cared for him.
Yuri’s grip on your hand gets firmer, the coldness of your skin seeping into his. He looks at your eyes, thinking of the way your eyes would light up when he would showcase his scientific discoveries.
He looks at your lips, remembering how you’d smile so grandly at him whenever you two would talk. He remembers how you’d learn what song he was humming just to hum with him.
He looks at your hand, recalling the warmth and strength he felt when he first held it. The way your hand shook due to your own fear remains engraved in his brain – the way that you supported him despite looking like you’d fall. You’ve been able to stand so long, haven’t you? You can’t be gone now.
“Jiro!” he calls, voice cracking. This surgery needs to be a success. He can’t – he won’t – hand you over to another researcher. “Bring the Honor Student to Mortkranken! They need treatment immediately!”
At Yuri’s call, Jiro immediately reaches for you, cradling you in his arms as he lifts you up. He’s never really been one to be gentle, especially in regards to corpses. As long as the corpse is intact, is there any reason to be “gentle”? Jiro doesn’t really think so. But, even so, Jiro can’t bring himself to manhandle you, tossing you around like he would anyone else.
As soon as he saw you on the floor, he wanted to gather you in his arms and carry you back to bed. He wanted to open up his suitcase and conduct your weekly health checkup. He wanted to ensure that you weren’t dead.
Unfortunately, Jiro is cursed with objectivity and he knows – knows – that there’s no way you’re still alive. He also knows that there’s no way to bring you back. Maybe if they had found you faster. Maybe if you were a ghoul. Maybe, maybe, maybe…
But it’s too late now, isn’t it?
He thinks about how you reacted whenever you saw blood and gore. He thinks about how much you fret over him and his injuries, even though he reassures you constantly. He thinks about the warmth of your palms.
He thinks about the ridiculous care you put into everyone.
“What’s this packet? I can’t eat solids,” Jiro had stated bluntly when you passed him a box. It was pink and cutesy, decorated with ribbons.
“It’s not a solid,” you said, grinning cheekily. “Look inside!”
Jiro looked at you blankly, but still did as you instructed. Yuri was strange, but you could be quite strange, too. “...Oh.”
“It’s chocolate milk! It should hopefully be easier to eat,” you beam at him. “Happy Valentine's Day, Jiro!”
Jiro cradles you closer to his chest, like you’re made of glass. You’re so cold, your skin feeling like his. He never thought that someone who was as warm-hearted as you could ever feel so desolate. “...I told you it’d be a problem for me if you died,” he murmured, softly, as he quietly trailed behind Yuri to head to Mortkraken.
When Rui hears the news of your passing, he’s pretty sure the world just stopped moving around him. He has to hear the news several more times to really come to terms with it. It’s unfair, he thinks, it’s so unfair.
You were fighting so hard. You were working so hard.
How could that come crashing down so suddenly?
It’s not fair. You of all people should’ve been able to live a long life. You of all people should’ve been able to be happy.
He tried so hard to stay away from you, to prevent him from accidentally killing you with his curse. You tried so hard to bring him comfort, despite the looming danger of his power. He’s flirted with plenty of people, but you’re the only person he’s ever thought he’d actually love to spend forever with. He cursed himself for those thoughts, knowing that longing for something that can’t be will only hurt him more. But there isn’t an easy end to longing.
“Sometimes, I wish I could’ve met you as a regular guy,” Rui had confided in you, one day, as the two of you sat in his bar. He swirled his wine, his cheeks slightly ruddy from the alcohol. “I guess you wouldn’t have given me the time of day if we had, though.” His laugh left his lips, hollowly bouncing around his glass as he took another sip.
“You’re drunk, Rui,” you had said, though your tone didn’t hold any malice. “...But sometimes, I wish I could’ve met you before our curses, too.”
This is why he couldn’t get over you, no matter how much he tried. This is why he couldn’t distance himself from you, no matter how much he tried. You drew him in closer and closer like a trap, and he was more than okay with being ensnared, even if he was scared of being hurt.
“Chuu!”
Rui blinked, surprised, as a cute teddy bear smooches him on the cheek.
“Sorry, you seemed distracted,” you hummed, making Rui laugh.
“Ah, yeah– yeah! Sorry about that,” he responded, “I def wasn’t trying to be.”
“I know,” you replied. “But you got to pay attention now, okay? I want you to meet someone!” You waved the teddy bear’s paw. “This is Honor Student Teddy!” Through your puppeteering, Honor Student Teddy offered Rui a hand, which Rui took with an amused look.
“You’re so cute.”
“Beep! Incorrect! The one that’s cute is Honor Student Teddy!” you said, looking away bashfully. Cute. “...So, I was thinking. Since we can’t touch, maybe we could use Honor Student Teddy as my replacement?” You grabbed Honor Student Teddy’s other hand, the one not in Rui’s grasp. “See? Doesn’t it kind of seem like we’re holding hands?”
Honor Student Teddy remains in Rui’s room, pampered and loved as it should be. As you should’ve been. A dry laugh escapes Rui.
“...Maybe this time, we can really hold hands.”
Blearily, Lyca opens his eyes, the sound of his phone buzzing waking him up. He sees that the message is from the blonde gigolo, which initially makes him annoyed. But Lyca has good instincts – his gut feeling is telling him to pay attention. So, instead of ignoring Rui, Lyca sleepily reads Rui’s texts.
His sleep soon evaporates from his being.
“It’s a lie!” he yells, jumping out of his bed and running to his bedroom’s door. There’s no way you’re gone. There’s no way he’ll never be able to smell your sweet scent ever again. There’s no way you won’t lay down with him and gently thread your fingers through his hair. There’s no way you won’t be able to draw together again. There’s just no way. There’s no way!
But even if Lyca wants to burst out of his bedroom, following your scent to find you, he can’t open the door. He can’t open the door to confirm if you’re really gone. He doesn’t want to go downstairs to see that you’re not waiting for him. He doesn’t want to go to the balcony where you’ll no longer be able to eat with him.
Lyca doesn’t want to lose you. Opening the door to the bedroom feels like he’ll lose you. Carefully, he goes back to his bed, where the blanket from Neros and the blanket from you lay side by side.
“Lyca!” you beammed, making Lyca tilt his head. You had a sweeter scent than usual today. Something that indicated that you were quite happy.
“What’re you so egg-cited about?”
“Heh.” You gave him a big grin. It was something he’d come to like seeing, especially since so many on campus gave him a grimace. “Ta-dah!” With a flourish, you presented Lyca with a soft blanket. “I got you a gift!”
Lyca frowned, looking at the blanket in confusion. “I already got one.”
“Yeah, I know,” you responded, not at all discouraged by the bite in Lyca’s tone. “It’s an extra one! I thought it’d be nice if you could have some more blankets. You can be twice as warm and cozy now!” There was a hint of hesitation as you say your next words, “I can take it back, though. Sorry, I guess I got ahead of myself.”
“...S’okay.” Lyca took the blanket from you, feeling cozier as soon as he touched the soft fabric. It smelt like you. He liked how you smelled – in some ways, it reminded him of home.
Lyca looks at the blanket on his bed, the one that you got him. He grabs it, softly, in his palms. He remembers your encouragement when he had told you that he’d work hard so that he could live with humans. You said he could do it and when you said it, he really did feel like he could. So, you can’t be gone yet. He needs you.
With a deep inhale, Lyca snuggles the blanket that smells like you because maybe, just maybe, he’ll be able to chase you and tell you not to leave him if he memorizes your scent.
Rui’s message about your death comes as a surprise to Ed even though he knows that human lives are fleeting – they’re fragile and easily broken. In some ways, that is why Ed has always thought that human life is so beautiful.
Still, he thinks your life would’ve been so much more beautiful if you had lived it to its full extent. If you could’ve continued to laugh like you had, if you could’ve continued to shine bright like you had – he thinks you’d have made the world a better place.
He’s lived for many years, yet the loss of someone he considers dear somehow still stings. He thought he managed to rid himself of such stinging emotions, yet it appears that even age does not make you immune to loss.
Or perhaps you're just one of those humans – one of those humans that make a lasting impact on those around them. But how could you not make an impact? After all, you were so hardworking, both for your sake and for others.
Who wouldn’t find you precious?
“Okay, Ed! Let’s watch some sad movies!”
Ed had texted you a few minutes ago, bemoaning his exhaustion. He hadn’t expected you to barrel into his room, a bag of snacks in your hand.
“My, my. What brought this on? Not that I am opposed, of course.”
“Well, you said you were tired, right? And you also said you drink tears, right? Well, I brought over some movies I’ll definitely cry to!” you gave him a confident grin. “Don’t worry, Ed. You’ll feel better really soon!”
“How reassuring,” he mused, welcoming you into his messy room. Rui had cleaned it up a few days ago, but Ed found it quite difficult to maintain cleanliness. You didn’t comment on it as you made your way over to him, settling yourself by his side. It was quite cozy.
Laying in his bed isn’t quite as cozy if you’re not there, he realizes. He scrolls through the videos you’ve sent him, imagining how you reacted to these videos. It is reassuring in some ways to have remnants of you left behind, but the pain that he can now only reach you through the remnants of your memory leaves him feeling vacant.
“Being with you really does bring up old, old memories,” he muses. “Perhaps it’s because you remind me a little of her.”
He wonders if there’ll be anyone who reminds him of you.
Not everyone who dies becomes a ghost. Yet, deep inside, Zenji had hoped that you’d have turned into one like him. He had hoped that you’d be able to spend time together, finally being able to hold your hand in his. However, he knows that it’s a selfish desire, one that cannot come true. He scoured the entire campus for any sign of your soul, after all, and came up empty handed.
He wishes that you could’ve been alive instead, then.
He’d rather live by your side, unable to touch you, than not be able to see you at all.
He’d rather you live your life like you want to, happily.
He wishes he could’ve done something more for you – after all, you’ve done so much for him. He’s a ghost, someone that most don’t know the existence of. Yet you made sure to greet him and spend time with him whenever you had time. You’ve been a source of his inspiration, his muse, because of how much you make his heart swell with joy.
He is an artist, so creating is in his blood. However, how do you create when you lose a piece of your hope? How do you create when you lose your source of inspiration?
“My dear, what do you think about this piece?” Zenji had asked, flourishing his biwa with grandeur.
“It’s great!” you said, earnestly. “I especially like how it felt like a full narrative – I got so tense when the biwa’s sound got deeper in the middle, just like the climax of a story!”
“Astute observation, my dear! That is indeed what I was aiming for.” Zenji couldn’t express the unexplainable joy that blossomed inside his heart when he heard your praise. You were a beacon of light that shined in the desolate lands. You were the purple wisteria that danced from the tree branches over the Hotarubi lake. Your beauty, your kindness – it was all so beautiful to him. He felt like the moon to your sun. “I really am the luckiest fella around.”
And now, he’s the unluckiest fella around, Zenji thinks. You’re no longer by his side. You’ll never be by his side, at least, not in this lifetime. The thought makes Zenji’s heart throb painfully. “Maybe we really did meet too late,” Zenji murmurs, watching wisteria petals float around the lake. “But it’s all right. I promise I’ll find you in the next life.”
Haku can’t say he’s ever been too happy to be able to see ghosts. Sure, Zenji’s fun to be around and it’s not like his ability really harmed him in any way, but he can’t really think of many times he’s been glad to have his ability. When he hears of your death, denial is the first thing that settles in his brain. Then, the grief follows. But hope blossoms in a corner of his mind. He can see ghosts – maybe he’ll be able to see you? Hope glimmers in the corner of Haku’s heart as he tries to find you.
The glimmer soon dies out, however, because it’s all for naught. Not everyone becomes a ghost. It was foolish of him to think that you’d have become one.
But then what’s the point of his power – his stupid ability to see ghosts? What’s the point of it if he can’t even see the one he wants to see?
Haku feels like it’s all a big practical joke from the universe, and he wants to be in on it because he’s failing to see what’s so funny.
Living an ordinary life, dying an ordinary death – that’s something you deserved to experience, and now you’re gone. It’s an inexplicably painful feeling that stabs at his heart. How is he supposed to fill the hole you left behind?
“I don’t know if this is a good idea…” you murmured, looking shy.
“You look beautiful,” Haku said, easily, a teasing grin on his face at how flustered you looked. His words were far from teasing, though. They were filled with an earnest praise of how gorgeous you looked decorated in white. Just seeing you in wedding attire made him think that it’d be a shame if anyone else got to see how beautiful you looked, but also a shame if no one else got to see. A weird balance of wanting to show you off, yet wanting to keep you to himself lingered inside him.
“Sure, sure,” you grumbled without any bite. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Thanks for agreeing to help, by the way,” Haku said, offering you his hand to take. You took it gratefully, before you shook your head with a laugh.
“It’s nothing. I’m glad I can help your junior in some way, though.”
“Yeah, she really appreciates your help.”
“Good.” The satisfaction on your face made you glow with a sort of shine one could only find in gold. It was precious, it was soft, it was so darling that Haku wanted to make sure that you continued to glow and shine forever. Even if it meant that you weren’t by his side (even though he so desperately wanted you by his side).
“...I know I’m being selfish – but sometimes, I wish you’d forget about me…” he murmured, low enough that he hoped you wouldn’t hear it. You gave him a glance, only squeezing his hand in response. He wasn’t sure how to interpret your reaction, but a part of him wants it to indicate that you wouldn’t ever forget him, even if forgetting him would most likely make you happier.
It’s hard to balance the desire of being remembered and the desire of being forgotten.
He wasn’t sure what he was feeling.
“But I guess that doesn’t really matter now, does it?” Haku muses, looking at the skies above. Stars sprinkle the navy-colored sky like diamonds. He can only hope you’re out there, shining.
From the age of four, Subaru was molded to perfect the performing arts. A child star, a prodigy – those are the titles given to him. He never feels like he deserves that praise – he’s not sure if he’ll ever feel like he deserves that praise. After all, growing up, anxiety was his most reliable companion, following him everywhere he went. How can he not doubt himself?
Yet while he breathed the performing arts, he’s developed mannerisms most around him find peculiar and odd. It’s hard not to think of himself as a bother when he can’t seem to blend into society as well as he’d like.
Because of his oddities, he never thought he’d ever be able to have a normal school life. Somehow, however, he's able to come to Darkwick Academy, experiencing pleasant social interactions due to the kindness of the people around him – people like yourself. You’re someone who Subaru can find a semblance of comfort in, despite his anxiety.
He knows he’s probably annoying you, but you’re always there, always so patient. You don’t make fun of him for his discomfort, nor do you push him beyond his boundaries. Instead, you patiently wait for him, allowing him to walk alongside you at his pace.
So when Subaru hears the news that you’re no longer with the living – no longer with him, he can't stop his mind from spinning. You’ve always been someone that waited for him patiently, yet now you’ve gone off by yourself to somewhere he can’t reach.
Emptily, he looks at the sakura mochi on the shelf – he had bought it for you. You’d eat his meager offerings with gusto, even if not all of them suited your palette.
He’s not sure how he’ll stomach some of the food he’s eaten with you from this point onwards. You’re not here physically, only your memories lingering in the ingredients of his meals. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to stomach the food you’ve made for him if someone else makes it, either.
“I’m sorry,” he had said, running up to you, out of breath.“I didn’t mean to be late.”
“You’re not!” you responded cheerily, patting the spot next to you. “Come, sit!”
“Thank you.” Gingerly, Subaru took the spot next to you, placing his hands on his lap. You peered at him curiously.
“Where’s your lunch, Subaru?”
“Ah.” Subaru ducked his head in embarrassment. “I ended up not being able to get anything.” Despite making you wait, despite his best efforts, he just wasn’t able to secure anything. How shameful. “But it’s all right. I can drink water for lunch.”
“No, don’t do that,” you chastised, lightly. “I actually packed my own lunch today because I thought it’d be busy everywhere. I packed a lot, so why don’t we share?”
“Ah–” Subaru looked at the delectable way your lunch box was crafted. “No, I’d hate to intrude.”
“You aren’t intruding, Subaru.” You nudged one of your lunchboxes into his hand along with some chopsticks. “I’m offering! I’m actually pretty happy with how some of these came out. Won’t you try some?”
At the delicious smell of your lunchbox, Subaru’s stomach let out an embarrassing growl. His face flushed, mortified, but you made no comment on it, instead offering your lunch again. “Well, if you insist,” he murmured, finally taking a box from you.
Once he took you up on your offer, you dug into your own lunch. Though, Subaru couldn’t help but notice how you’d glance at him nervously. It was kind of cute.
Not wanting to waste your kindness, Subaru took a bite of the lunch, before his eyes widened with glee. “This is delicious!”
“Whew– I mean, great! I’m so glad,” you beamed. “If you tell me some of your favorite food, I can try to make it for you! I can’t guarantee it’ll be as good as Sho’s, but I can try!”
“I couldn’t ask you to,” Subaru responded, bashfully. The thought that you cared for him was enough to satisfy him. “I would hate to be a bother.”
“You’re never a bother, Subaru.” Your voice was so kind, so soft and genuine that Subaru didn’t really know how to react.
“Really?” Disbelief laced his voice. He hated being a bother but always felt like he was. He knew that you were already spending your precious lunch with him when you could spend it with anyone else. There wasn’t any way you’d care about him to that extent, right?
“Subaru?” you asked, concerned.
“I just can’t believe it – why…” Subaru paused, suddenly hit with a bout of embarrassment. “Ah– I don’t want to seem like I’m testing you, I just… I get really anxious sometimes… I’m sorry. I’m being weird, aren’t I?”
“You’re not.” Your voice rang clear inside the storm in Subaru’s head, letting sunshine stream through the clouds. “I’ve never thought you were a bother. I actually really enjoy my lunches with you.”
“Really?”
“Yup! So if I’m not too much of a bother, let’s eat more lunches together!”
Subaru had promised, promised that he would. He promised that you’d always eat your lunches together because that’s what he sincerely believed. He believed that you two would be able to bask underneath the sunrays, seated on your favorite bench, laughing.
He wants to believe that you’ll still be able to eat together. He wants to believe so desperately. Because who else could bring him the comfort you did? Who else will patiently wait for him to catch up, gently guiding him when he needs it?
But now you’re gone – you’re gone. You won’t be able to come back. It tears at Subaru because his anxiety and inferiority complex tell him that it’s his fault – that he could’ve done something, anything, to save you.
Why couldn’t he save you?
Why couldn’t you have been saved?
The room that Subaru is in feels too big for him as it slowly fills with his grief.
According to Article 230 in the Japanese penal code, “a person who defames another by publicly alleging facts shall, regardless of whether such facts are true or false, be punished with penal servitude or imprisonment not to exceed three years or a fine of not more than 500,000 yen.” Doesn’t Darkwick know that? Why would Darkwick allege such odd things like your death, Ritsu wonders. Still, he’ll record what the Masterpiece Newscasters are saying – after all, it’ll be useful to leverage against Darkwick when he takes you to argue his cases.
There is little he finds more important than being able to argue his cases, which indicate his proficiency. He needs to be proficient in order to be able to become a fantastic lawyer like his father – this has always been his goal. Even after meeting you, it’s been his goal.
Some may have thought that you would’ve been a distraction for Ritsu, but he’s certain that your presence in his life has been for the better. You’re a fantastic business partner, being perfect to bounce his ideas off of. It’s admirable that you’ve taken on the mantle of ridding yourself of your curse, too. Ritsu finds that most people aren’t that hard working or really worth his time (unless they’re clients), but you’re different. You’re worth his time.
“Could I ask you to accompany me a little longer?” he had asked one day as you’re about to leave the diner. “I realize it’s outside of business hours, but… I would appreciate it if you could make a special exception.”
“Oh?” you looked surprised, though it was soon replaced with a smile. Your smile was something Ritsu appreciated seeing nowadays – something that felt like visible proof of Ritsu’s hard work. “Yeah, sure! I have time. What do you need?”
“I have to go over a few notes,” Ritsu responded, passing a notebook over to you. “I’ve already gone through these once, but I’d appreciate it if you could go through it, too. It’ll prove beneficial for you.”
“Yeah, sure, leave it to me!”
Your eagerness to help Ritsu cemented the fact that you were the right choice for his business partner. As the hour slowly trailed on, the both of you focused on your respective reading, Ritsu found that he didn’t quite mind spending time with you like this, outside of business hours. He found your presence calming, yet also helpful – he found it easier to focus when you were around.
It was nice. Even as the two of you began to wrap up, Ritsu wasn’t in as much of a hurry to disappear.
“I’ll take your thoughts into consideration,” Ritsu said as you two left the diner. The night sky stretched out beautifully above you two. Ritsu had never noticed it before.
“Sounds good!”
Ritsu cleared his throat, offering you a hand to shake. You shook his hand without much preamble. He appreciated it. “It seems we make better business partners than I would have expected. I look forward to a long and prosperous relationship with you.”
“Likewise.”
He still thought about the smile you’d given him that night, bright like the moon. It was a smile that made it obvious that he had someone by his side to support him – someone that he can support in return.
So, there’s no way you’re gone. Not when you have him as a business partner. That’s a ludicrous thought.
Still, he can’t seem to shake the ill feeling from his body. Why aren’t you responding to your texts? You’re usually quite timely unless something has come up. Something…
No, there’s no way you’re gone. There’s just no way.
Ritsu’s grip on his briefcase tightens.
He feels like he’s going to be sick.
Romeo wants to scream, so he does. “Everyone, leave!” His voice echoes in his room, his workers trying to scramble out of Romeo’s wrath. With a frustrated string of curses, Romeo collapses on his expensive chair, the one encrusted with diamond – the one that you’d complimented.
Romeo truly, utterly, feels sick. He feels annoyed. He feels disgusting. His perfect porcelain skin is marred with wrinkles, a frown deep set in his face. How dare you – how dare you have the audacity to leave him. He never gave you permission to do things like this, so how could you go away? He’s always known you were bad at following directions, but this is too much, even for you.
No.
What’s too much is that someone, someone, thought that they could come in and take you from him. How dare they! They didn’t even get permission from him! They didn’t… So why would they? They can’t take you away from him, not when you’re the only one that listens to him. Not when you’re the only one who seems to care about not making wrinkles appear on his face. Not when you’ve been doing your best.
It’s not fair. It’s just not fair.
“Why are you carrying that?! What if you drop it and it breaks?” Romeo exclaimed, watching you carry a very expensive vase.
“Ah – I heard you say that the guys who’re supposed to move this haven’t done their job, so I thought I could help!”
Help?! Romeo couldn’t help but look at the way your arms trembled with the weight of a price that far exceeded your budget, doubt coloring his face. “I’ll get one of our young guys to do it, so put it down already!”
You huffed, putting the vase down carefully, with a defeated sigh. “Sorry, I just wanted to help.”
“Help where you’re actually useful,” Romeo grumbled, crossing his arms. If those idiots that he’d asked to move the vase actually moved the vase, then he wouldn’t be in this predicament. “Those WTWUT make my life much harder.”
“Wall-to-wall useless trash, huh?” you mused. Romeo thought that amusement looked good on you – it gave you a cocky look that suited you. If only everyone else could be like you, then he wouldn’t be as stressed as he was.
“I need a face pack,” he muttered.
“Do you want me to get it for you?”
“Hm. Sure.” Romeo paused. “Get one for yourself while you’re at it.”
“Me?” you looked at him with curiosity and shock written across the apples of your cheeks.
“Who else?”
“I just… I dunno. Do you think it’s okay?”
“Of course. What could you possibly be afraid of?” Romeo asked. “You’re one of my people! Who’s going to say anything?”
You looked contemplative, before a light smile crossed your features. “That’s true. I guess no one can really say anything to you.”
Your words make him feel powerful. Your actions do, too. When he’s with you, he feels like the world is in his palms. But now he’s without you. Now, he’ll always be without you.
Anger thrums through his veins.
You’re one of his people. How dare they take you away from him? Romeo won’t stand for it. He’ll snipe down the bastard that did this to him – that did this to you.
“You BTH!” Romeo yells, storming into Taiga’s room with the fury of a thousand bulls. “You’re still lazing around?”
Taiga doesn’t respond, twirling a gun in his hand. He’s not entirely in his right mind right now, but he can still pick up “revenge” and “snipe” among the various words Romeo spews.
“You better do your part,” Romeo hisses, finally deciding to leave Taiga alone. Maybe Romeo would’ve stayed longer to nag at Taiga if Romeo were in a better state of mind. Taiga can’t really bring himself to care at the moment, though, his own state of mind is a jumbled mess.
Flashes of memories, flashes of thoughts – they alternate inside his head, before phasing out of existence. He’s not sure when it started, but his mind has been deteriorating, memories floating in and out of his head. What most would consider “common sense” is also something Taiga has been losing grasp of.
Even in spite of that, somehow, you’ve made your way into his brain, like a little parasite that burrows into his thoughts. He didn’t think he could remember someone – not in his current state of mind, anyway. He didn’t think he could form an attachment to you either, not with how he just doesn’t want to care anymore. The world’s going to burn, everything unfurling into a messy pile of futures that could be and won't be. It’s all messed up, it’s all gonna be messed up. Yet, somehow, despite all that, Taiga can’t help but think of you as some source of light, a beacon of hope that he kept around to stop him from completely drowning in the dark murkiness of the future.
“That’s it, kitty-cat,” he had said, placing you in his lap as he prepared to play another round of blackjack. “I feel like my luck’ll change if you’re around.”
“I don’t know about that,” you responded, watching as the dealer handed out everyone’s cards. You fidgeted in his lap like a cute little cat, clearly trying to break your discomfort.
“Quit failing around,” Taiga said, looking at his cards. To Taiga’s amusement, you settled in his lap to the best of your abilities, leaning into his chest. He pulled you closer, as he continued to play blackjack.
The longer he played, the more he felt some odd sense of peace with you snuggled in his lap. Your smell and warmth wrapped around him like a little security blanket. In some ways, it made him want to consume you wholly until you couldn’t think of anything else that wasn’t him. It made him hungry.
But now, there’s a hollow feeling inside of him, something that bypasses physical hunger. He hungers for your soul that’s now no longer here. The pitch-black murkiness of the future spreads even further across his eyelids, being the only thing he can see. Fate has dealt him a bad hand that he had tried to win against.
He never could win, though, could he?
“Tell me something, would you?” Taiga laughs in his empty room, eyes staring at the ceiling. He searches and searches, but can’t find any sight of you. “What could I have done different to change this outcome?”
Ren has always thought that coming to Darkwick Academy was a mistake. His experience didn’t exactly start off nicely, what with him being sorted into Jabberwock and having to deal with the annoying Jabberwock captain. All those stupid anomalous animals made it so that he rarely had time to himself, even if he tried his best to lock himself in his room.
Still, there’s a silver lining to everything. Sure, Towa keeps trying to feed some odd looking porridge. Sure, Haru is still meddlesome and annoying. But they’re… not bad. And you’re here, so it’s kind of okay.
He’s always thought that people doing annoying things for the sake of friends or whatever were delusional – frankly speaking, he could care less. Yet, when he looks at you, he thinks that maybe there are people out there who do things because they want to. Initially, you’d been somewhat of a doormat to him, but then he realized that your voluntary help came because you care about others – about him.
He can’t count the number of times you’ve come to help him out, whether it’s with the anomalous animals or a raid in his new game. You’ve just… always been there. He didn’t think it was possible, but your constant presence had carved out a you-shaped hole in his life, a place only you could fit.
So how’s he supposed to fill that emptiness now? It’s all your fault, Ren thinks. If only he hadn’t met you… but then, if he hadn’t met you, he doesn’t think he could’ve survived.
“Well done me for surviving another day…” Ren had grumbled, dusting his jumpsuit off. He hated getting dirty, but it wasn’t like he could avoid it in Jabberwock, especially if Haru was going to hound him continuously.
“Good job, Ren!”
He looked up, seeing how you still looked cute despite the mud and disheveled hair. He found it kind of unfair. “Oh, same to you,” he said. “I don’t know how you can do this stuff voluntarily.”
“The animals are cute and you guys need the help,” you replied, waving at him to bend down. “Ren, there’s some mud on your face. Do you mind if I wipe it off?”
“Huh? You’re the type who does this kind of stuff, huh?”
“Ah, sorry–”
“No, you can,” Ren said. It wasn’t like he gave you permission to help him because he wanted to feel your touch, though. It was because he couldn’t stand the mud on him. Yup. That was definitely the reason. Still, even then, he couldn’t help the way his heart thudded against his chest as you gently wiped the grime off of his face. “It’s from that stupid bull anomaly kicking dirt in my face, isn’t it?”
“I think that’s when it happened, yeah,” you responded with a laugh. “But I’m here if you need me, so I can help you.”
Ren didn’t know what to say to your honest desire to help him, it was oddly sweet of you. You had been his only real source of comfort, what with everyone else wanting so much from him. You were the only one who watched his B-horror movies with him – the only one who’d game with him.
“There, all done! Let’s go back to the dorms. I’m sure you’ll feel better after a shower.”
“...Thanks,” he muttered, walking with you back to the Jabberwock dorms. The skies were painted shades of pink and purple, the sun ready to head to bed.
“Even though it’s hard work, it’s nice to be able to see the sunset, huh?” you hummed. Ren liked the sound of your voice – not too loud like Haru’s and not too incomprehensible like Towa’s.
“Yeah.” He breathed in deeply, feeling the fresh air purify his lungs. “Every day here is a fresh hell, though.”
“Aw, Ren,” you laughed. “Yeah, it’s pretty hard work, huh?”
“...Yeah. But, you’re suffering through it with me, so I guess I’ll stick it out for a little longer…”
But how’s he supposed to stick it out now? You’re not here anymore. You’re not going to be there to help him. You’re not going to be there when he wants to watch his B-horror movies or play games. You’re not going to be there when he buys you a drink as he walks you home.
You’re not going to be here. And he didn’t even get to say goodbye…
Ren’s always been bad at goodbyes – he couldn’t even wish Calamari farewell. But he’d have rather been able to say something to you since he’s not going to be able to say anything to you ever again now. Never, ever again.
Ren doesn’t know how he’s going to survive.
Ever since Towa found out about your death, the skies in Jabberwock have been marred with thick clouds and thunder. His precious, precious Dandelion – how can you be gone? You can’t be gone yet. You haven’t told him all the love stories you had in your arsenal. You haven’t tried all the flowers Towa wants to offer you. You haven’t shown him all the reactions you’ve stored away for him to slowly bring to the surface.
You can’t be gone just yet, he won’t allow it.
Murkiness swims inside Towa’s heart as he grapples with the anger and sadness that fight and merge into an incomprehensible seed of emotion that is planted deeply within Towa’s heart. Should he just strike everyone down? You’re not here, so as long as he avoids Haru, it doesn’t matter who he hurts. It’s not like he particularly cares about anyone else on campus anyway.
But he can’t allow his emotions to explode out of him just yet, not when the tree on the hill is dying. You care about that tree as well, after all.
But then where is he supposed to spill his anger? His grief? Where does it all go?
Is this what love is? This agony?
Towa hasn’t ever really been certain about what “love” is.
“Well, love can be a lot of things,” you had said, laying by his side on the hill with the tree. You were enraptured with the stars, but Towa couldn’t help but look at you. You were so much like a dandelion, your resilience and strength shining through despite your troubles. And you were cute like a Dandelion. Your voice was nice, too, like the wind that carried dandelion seeds across the world. “Like… there’s romantic love, platonic love, familial love, and all of that, you know? Even within romantic love, it can be a lot of different things.”
“Like what?” Towa asked, making you hum in thought.
“Uh… like soulmates, I guess? Some people meet their soulmates, some don’t. But even if you don’t meet your soulmate, you can still find someone you romantically love. Maybe you’ll meet your soulmate but not realize they’re your soulmate too. It’d be hard to tell, right?”
“When you meet your soulmate, it feels like getting struck by lightning. Did you know that? Have you felt it, Dandelion?” Towa’s words made you turn your head towards him, finally paying attention to him instead of the stars. Towa liked the way you looked at him.
“I don’t think I have,” you responded, truthfully. “But I’m not in a rush. I’m sure I’ll find the person I love, even if they’re not my soulmate. Hell, maybe anyone can be your soulmate. Maybe soulmates are made when you love and grow with each other. Who knows?” A yawn escaped your mouth as you finished your thought.
“Heh heh.” Towa’s eyes crinkled at the sight. “Are you tired, Dandelion? You’re so weak. It’s cute.”
“Hey!” you laughed. “I’m getting stronger, y’know.” Flexing your arm, you show off a small bit of the muscle you’ve been building up. Towa couldn’t help but be amused at your little display of strength, miniscule in front of his own power. It was hard not to find it cute that you tried to carry so many burdens on your shoulders despite your own weaknesses. Towa could only surmise that your resilience came from the love within you. He hoped that he could be a part of that love inside of you.
“Do you like me, Dandelion?” Towa inquired, smile bright. “Because I love you!”
Towa doesn’t fully know what love is – it’s an idea he’s always been in love with, but has no experience and understanding of. You’re the closest he’s ever gotten to potentially finding the answer he’s been looking for. But now you’re gone. He doesn’t know how he’ll understand love now.
He hugs the great tree on the hill, tears trickling down his face.
When the little mermaid turned into seafoam, did she feel this way too?
Haru is always busy. He wakes up busy and sleeps busy. Nothing ever seems to stop for him, time constantly slipping through his fingers like sand no matter how fast he runs.
So why did time have to stop for you?
Even as Haru makes his rounds, Towa’s lightning in the backdrop as he works, he can’t seem to keep his mind busy enough to not think of you. Thoughts and memories of you run around his head again and again and again. They run so fast that he can’t seem to catch up.
So Haru does what he can do to maintain routine. At the very least, maintaining routine should help him adjust, shouldn’t it? But as he carries out his daily chores, all he can think about is how you’d help him around Jabberwock. How you would give him sweets to amp up his energy. How you loved Peekaboo like it was your own.
“Boo…” Peekaboo says, aware of the tenseness and wariness on Haru’s shoulders – aware of the fact you’re no longer there. Peekaboo’s tears make your death weigh even heavier on Haru’s heart as he cuddles the small beast in his arms.
“You sure are fond of the Honor Student, aren’t you, Peekaboo?” Haru had asked, looking at how Peekaboo cuddled up against your chest as you fed it. “You did nothing but bite me for the first three days after we met.”
You laughed brightly, releasing a sound that Haru was quite fond of. “The only reason Peekaboo’s not biting me is because it’s used to you, you know.”
“You reckon?” Haru responded, reaching out to pet Peekaboo who welcomed the touch.
“See? Look at that. Peekaboo loves you so much.” You gave Peekaboo a kiss on its cute fluffy forward, making the small anomalous animal make happy little squeaks. “You like your dad quite a bit, don’t you?”
The sight of you and Peekaboo together made Haru’s heart warm. He was constantly managing things by himself that he never really expected to find a stable support system. Towa, while competent, could be quite moody. Ren, too, while able bodied, refused to do a lot of the work. So, of course, work always fell on Haru’s weary shoulders. He never expected to find someone that could provide him the support he needed – like the other parent of Jabberwock. “Then you’re a bit like Peekaboo’s mother, eh?”
“I wouldn’t mind – not when my child is as cute as Peekaboo!” you replied brightly, patting Peekaboo’s back to allow it to burp. After releasing a burp too large for such a small animal, Peekaboo cuddled into you, satisfied. You hummed out a little tune as you rocked the little anomalous animal to sleep. Seeing you made a smile stretch across Haru’s face.
“Really learned the ropes here, haven’t you?” he said, gently ruffling Peekaboo’s fur. “Once we have a little cash to spare, I’ll buy you your own Jabberwock uniform!”
You’d no longer need it, though, Haru thinks, thumb brushing against the fabric of the Jabberwock uniform he had gotten for you. While you aren’t officially a part of the Jabberwock House, it’s hard not to feel like you belonged.
But you’re no longer here – you no longer belong to the living, so how could you belong to Jabberwock? Haru wishes that you were still here, though. It hasn’t even been a day, but he already misses you. Even if you couldn’t help him out every day, just getting a text message boosted his spirits. Just thinking about the fact that you’d help him with Jabberwock duties and his personal issues helped him get through his cumbersome day.
You were someone he could depend on and he wanted to be someone you could depend on. But, in the end, he couldn’t protect you.
His responsibilities sit heavily on his shoulders.
Sho has always kept himself busy. Whether it’s cooking, playing sports, training, or something else, Sho has always liked to do something. Maybe that’s why he’s in the kitchen, cooking your favorite meal, while he tries to process what the Masterpiece Newscasters had prattled on about earlier.
You’re dead?
There’s no way. You can’t be.
He thinks back to the first case you worked on together, the one with Takeru. He had failed to protect you then and vowed he wouldn’t put you in the way of danger like that again. So how? Why?
Who killed you?
Sho slams a fist on the kitchen counter, lips pressed in a thin line. Frustration bubbles inside him as curses leave his lips in rapid succession.
You can’t be dead. You can’t. Not when you’ve been working so hard. Not when you’ve been doing everything in your power to survive. Not when you’ve inspired and helped him to the point that he still feels like he has to repay you. Not when he hasn’t done or told you everything he wants to.
“Fuck!” he yells, slamming his fists on the kitchen counter once more.
You jolted when he yelled a curse, slamming a fist on the wall.
“Shit, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” Sho said, sheepishly rubbing the nape of his neck. You were fun to tease and get reactions out of, but that didn’t mean he wanted to scare you.
“What’s the matter, Sho?” you asked, putting down your knife. “Tell me. I might be able to help you.”
“It’s nothing,” Sho started to say, before the look on your face made him stop. He snorted at how displeased you looked. “It’s just that some back order stuff got delayed. I won’t have enough forks for tomorrow.”
“Oh, is that it?” you asked, looking relieved. “I have a bunch of plastic forks back at the cathedral, actually. Do you want me to get them?”
“Huh? Why do you have a bunch of plastic forks laying around?”
“Uh… let’s just say that I had some ordering issues.” You waved a hand to dismiss the question. “Anyway! I can go get them.”
“Nah, let’s go together.” He shuffled around, before pulling out a helmet and tossing it to you. “Here, this helmet’s for you.”
“Oh, this one looks awesome!” you beamed, turning the helmet around in your hands. It was in your favorite color with your favorite patterns. Sho huffed out a laugh at your response. You were so cute sometimes.
“Glad you like it. C’mon.” He pushed the door to the food truck open with his foot. “Let’s go.”
“Okay!”
“After this,” he began, closing and locking the door once you were both out of the food truck, “I got some time today, so I’ll take you somewhere. Anywhere you wanna go.”
He still remembers the way your arms felt around his waist as you clung to him while he drove. He still remembers the way your eyes sparkled watching your favorite scenery. He still remembers how his heart pounded in his chest, the feeling of liberation lifting his spirits, as he drove through the streets with you clinging to him.
Your determination has always felt like freedom to Sho – it’s what inspired him to put more effort into his life at Darkwick. It’s what inspired him to take things more seriously.
But maybe he should’ve taken things more seriously when he had the chance. Now that you’re gone, so is his chance to prove himself to you. You've gone somewhere too far, somewhere no one else can reach.
This isn’t the freedom he had envisioned for you.
Whenever Sho gets too emotional, Leo is quick to make fun of him. It's stupid to get too riled up, Leo thinks. The world is boring and easy to manipulate, after all. Why should he get upset?
Leo has always been able to get what he wants – he even became vice-captain, for fuck's sake. He basically solved Takeru’s case by himself while also trying to get rid of you because your stupid stigma enhancement might overshadow him. Sure, he couldn't get rid of you then but it's not like he can't try again, especially when you keep sticking your nose where it doesn't belong.
But this isn’t how he wanted to get rid of you. Who said you could just die? It’s so stupid. It’s so dumb that it makes Leo feel angry. You stupidly kept going despite his scathing remarks, despite people walking all over you and disrespecting you, so why are you dead? You’re not allowed to be dead.
You still need to help him use Haxs. You still need to be there so he can get a sense of validation when he watches your reactions. You still need to be here because out of everyone on campus, your presence is somewhat tolerable. Who’s he gonna comfortably boss around now?
“Ha ha. You were photobombing one of my pics so I uploaded it and said I had a new girlfriend,” Leo snickered as you brushed his hair. He didn’t think you’d be so good at it, but he found that his hair was smoother when you brushed it. “10K interacts in less than an hour. Suckers.”
“Is that okay?” you asked, making Leo roll his eyes.
“It’s fine, Honor Roll. In fact, shouldn’t you be grateful?”
“That’s not what I meant.” you huffed, tugging his hair lightly as you untangled a knot. It felt nice. “I mean, are you okay? Don’t influencers get harassed if they post about their significant others?”
Leo hated this whole goody-two-shoes act you had going on. Why were you so concerned about him? It wasn’t like he was particularly nice to you and it wasn’t like you necessarily treated him better than you would anyone else. Were you just stupidly nice in general? “Being an influencer means you get hate mail anyway,” he responded, closing out of his social media app. It wasn’t really all that interesting anymore.
“Hm… I see.” You became silent, which made Leo feel oddly annoyed. “People can really suck sometimes.”
Leo snorted. He had been anything but kind to you, really, so he thought you’d have already come to that conclusion a while ago. “It’s whatever. They’re all basic.”
He knew that this was the point where you could say something about him coming to you to talk (which he would never do, barf), but you don’t. Instead, you continue to thread your fingers through his hair gently.
He hated to admit it, but it was relaxing.
“Okay, I think I’m done,” you hummed, removing your hands from him. He noted that it was slightly colder when you left, but chalked it up to the poor heat regulation in Vagastrom. “Oh, and Happy Valentine’s Day, Leo! I got you something.”
Leo turned to you curiously as he combed his fingers through his hair, which definitely felt softer. He gingerly took your offering, before his eyes widened. “This is that ultra-spicy chocolate they only sell this time of year… I’m actually genuinely stoked right now.”
“I’m glad!” you beamed. It was a smile that Leo thought was slightly less ugly than usual. In general, you had been looking slightly less ugly lately, actually. That thought made him feel nauseous.
“Wanna make a bet, Honor Roll?”
You blinked at him, suddenly looking wary. He used to think that expression was so stupid, but now he thought it was kind of cute in a dumb kind of way. “What type of bet…?”
“A bet over which will come first – me falling for you, or you getting hooked on me.”
There’s no conclusive way to find out the end to this bet now, not with you gone. But he thinks you probably got hooked on him first – after all, it’s not like he’s thinks about your stupid laugh or dumb words of encouragement when he feels down or anything. Besides, as far as the internet’s concerned, you’re already dating him.
He briefly thinks about uploading a post about your death. Those suckers online would eat it up, sending him pity and sympathy. But the thought is so unappealing that he drops it. It’s not like your death is gonna matter to other people.
After all, life sucks and then you die, right? It’s just a part of living and he’s not pathetic enough to suddenly miss you. But there’s a disgustingly hollow feeling in his chest as his thoughts ring too loudly. You’re just an NPC – aren’t NPCs supposed to live quietly in the background while the main characters get their character development or whatever?
Why couldn’t you just quietly live your life like that?
You’re so stupid.
Alan has always felt like a monster. His hands – his stigma – have crushed so many things until they’ve become nothing but dust. He’s never been proud of this strength, not when he causes so many to cower.
He had expected you to cower, too, especially after he ripped Takeru’s ghost apart in front of you, so lost in the bloodlust. But you hadn’t. You stood by his side with as much care and compassion you could muster. When he wanted to keep looking into the case of Takeru’s ghost even after it was considered “finished” by Darkwick, you offered to help him even though you didn’t need to.
Alan’s never really been a conversationalist, so he didn’t expect you to spend time with him unless it was necessary. Still, he can’t say he dislikes having you around. Even when he’s tinkering with his car, it’s nice to have you sitting nearby, talking about your day.
You’re someone he appreciates – someone who does their best no matter how dire the situation is, someone who strives to do better. How could he not grow fond of how hard you work on a daily basis?
“I pat people on the head a lot? Didn’t notice,” Alan had said, after placing his hand on your hair. He really hadn’t realized – it was a force of habit, especially when you had done such a good job. “I’m doing it again?” he murmured, removing his hand, “...Sorry.”
“It’s nothing you have to be sorry for,” you responded, honestly. “It was just an observation.”
Despite knowing that his hands were akin to weapons, Alan couldn’t help but be drawn to touching you. Unlike him, you were soft and sweet. Still, he felt guilty. He hadn’t ever wanted you to feel uncomfortable, after all.
“I actually kind of like it when you pat my head,” you said. “You’re really gentle with it, so it makes it feel like I did a good job!”
Alan would never describe his touch as gentle, but he felt like he could believe it if it came from you.“You’re doing a good job.”
“Thanks!” you responded, giving him a big smile that he couldn’t say he had seen from other people. Most other people here had cunning smiles or looked fearful of him. He liked how genuine yours looked. “I can keep trying my best because of you and the others, you know? Thanks a lot.”
Alan couldn’t really recall if he had done anything to receive this type of praise from you, but your words made him feel relaxed. He felt like you helped him feel more human. “I’m lucky I’ve got you,” he said, trying to express his gratitude. “As long as you’re with me, I feel like I won’t lose sight of who I am.”
But now you’re no longer here. It makes Alan scared of himself in a way that he’s never felt before. He had treated you gently, like you were made of glass, because he was scared he’d break you. Yet you weren’t ever scared of him breaking you. Being with you softened up his edges and made him feel more human than monster.
You’re no longer here, though.
Perhaps it has always been his fate to become a monster.
Kaito hasn’t stopped crying since he’s heard the Masterpiece Newscasters relay the news of your death. It hurts so bad.
Kaito doesn’t think he’s ever been so badly hurt in his life.
Kaito’s never been one to like pain, which is why he avoids training and going on missions. He wants to be normal and being a ghoul is abnormal. The non-ghouls around him cement that on a daily basis. Yet you’re one of the only non-ghouls who has always treated him kindly no matter what.
Even when he’s a pathetic idiot or a stupid coward, you’ve always been so patient and kind to him. Kaito has liked a lot of girls on a surface level, but his feelings towards you have evolved beyond that. He thinks you’re pretty and lovely and all of that, of course, but more than that, he thinks you’re an amazing person. Amazingly strong, amazingly hard working – you’re someone he values so deeply. Even when he knows he’s being foolish, you’re there by his side because you care about him, aren’t you? So how could he not grow to care about you? You’re the few people that he feels he can truly be close to.
“Whoa, when did it get so late?!” Kaito gasped, looking at the window outside. You two had been baking since noon, but ended up goofing off at some point, delaying the baking process. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you…”
“I’m still good!” you responded, before taking a big bite out of your cookie. While chewing your sweet treat, you offered Kaito a piece, too.
“Really?” Kaito asked, taking the cookie you offered him.
“Yeah, I like spending time with you.”
Your words made Kaito’s heart swell with so much gratitude and affection that he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself. He always considered himself lackluster in practically everything, but he felt like he could do better and try to be better because you were there. He couldn’t help the cheesy grin that came onto his face.
“Oh, look, Kaito! The stars look so pretty!”
Kaito looked over at the large window in the kitchen, watching as the stars twinkled in the night sky.
“It kind of looks like granulated sugar if you squint, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I can see it!” Kaito responded, before tentatively asking, “...Do you like stars?”
“I do,” you replied, taking another bite of your cookie. “Why d’you ask?”
“Oh, um,” Kaito hesitated, feeling a little bashful all of a sudden. You weren’t the type to just reject him harshly, but sometimes Kaito felt nervous in more intimate moments. When you genuinely seemed to return his affections (romantic or not) it made him feel valued as a human being, but it also made him nervous. “I was just wondering ‘cause there’s this place where you can see them really well, so I thought you’d want to go some time…”
“I would love to!” you beamed at him with a smile that could rival the sun. Kaito didn’t think the sun needed to shine if you were around. “You always do find the best places.”
Your words of validation made Kaito feel teary. You’d always been by his side, no matter what. You didn’t have to be his princess or anything like that. In fact, you’d saved him a lot of times before. Still… “I know I’m weak, and a coward,” he began, “But I really do want to become your knight in shining armor.”
In the end, Kaito never could become your knight in shining armor. Not when you’re gone like this. He couldn’t protect you and it tears him up inside. If he had trained and went on missions, would things be different? If so, why couldn’t the other ghouls help you instead? You deserve to be alive – you deserve it so much more than anyone else.
Kaito continues to wail inside his room, frustrated that he’s upset at other people not saving you – it’s him that couldn’t save you. It’s his fault. It’s all his fault and he’ll never be able to make it up to you.
He’ll never become your knight in shining armor.
For the first time since coming to Darkwick, Luca feels numb. He’s not sure how to cope with the fact that your death has come so suddenly. He had promised you that he’d help you absolve your curse, just like you promised him you’d help him subjugate a demon. Yet… you’re gone. You’re not here. You cannot keep your promise to him and he cannot keep his promise to you. It makes him feel hollow.
Luca has always felt that honesty was the best policy, which contributed to his straightlaced nature. He’s been called inconsiderate because of this and he’s lost people who could’ve been his friend. Him being a ghoul hadn’t helped, either, since he was the only ghoul back in Emrys Academy. When he came to Darkwick Academy, all he expected was to learn ways to subjugate a demon. Sure, it would’ve been nice to make friends, but Luca wasn’t going to get his hopes up. Not when he was so set on his goal to find his brother, at least.
Most aren’t understanding of Luca’s honesty and desire to bring back his brother, thinking his one track mind is a hassle. But you’ve never treated him like he was a nuisance. You’ve always greeted him brightly and worked with him. Whether you guys looked for information on curses and demons or practiced meditation for a clearer mind, you’ve been there.
But you’re not going to be there anymore, are you? Not when he’s meditating, not when he’s looking things up in the library, not when he needs the encouragement – you’re not going to be there.
He at least has hope that he’ll be able to bring his brother back. With you, he knows he can never bring you back. You’re gone, forever. You’ll never be there to experience anything with him anymore.
“We have experienced many joys and sorrows together since becoming friends. I’m very glad we met. I look forward to walking the road ahead with you,” Luca had said one day, while you two were meditating. While meditating, Luca couldn’t seem to clear his mind from thinking about you and all you’d done for him, so he thought it was only right for him to express it.
“Me too,” you responded, earnestly. Luca liked talking with you because you were candid with him, but patient. Even when he interrupted your meditation. “You’ve been a great ally to me, so thanks a lot, Luca.” You stretched your arms over your head, before staring at the setting sun. Sometimes, Luca wasn’t sure what went through your head.
“You’ve been a great ally to me as well.” Luca could scarcely remember people who tried as hard as you. He was duty-bound to a fault that he had trouble abandoning his mission, so he had trouble understanding people who wanted to run away. You were one of the few that came back despite wanting to run away. How could he not be impressed with you?
“That makes me glad to hear!” you replied, beaming brightly. Luca liked your smile. It radiated a warmth that reminded him of home. “Let’s keep doing our best!”
“Yes, let’s.” Luca watched as you kept your gaze on the setting sun. The soft colors of the sky were quite a sight to behold, but Luca wasn’t sure why it was distracting you.
“You know, Luca?” you called, as if you could read his mind. “They say that as long as you’re on Earth, you’ll see the same sun as the people you love. Isn’t that nice?”
Luca could be slow to pick up on things sometimes, but he wasn’t stupid. He could tell that those words were meant to console you after you’d been stripped from your family so suddenly (he’d come to understand the reasons for your desire to leave that day when you were working on your first case after many conversations with you). Yet, your words carried an undertone that implied that you told him about the sun to console him as well. Him, who was far from his family. Him, whose brother had gone missing. Him.
Those words were meant for him, but he cannot see the value in them now. Not when you’re no longer on this Earth. Not when you’re no longer alive. The sun still shines so brightly over Darkwick as if undeterred by your death. It pains Luca because time feels like it’s stopped for him, yet the world seems to move on.
Luca closes his eyes, heart throbbing.
“I’m sorry… Yet again I have failed to protect the people most important to me…”
The first thing Tohma does when he hears of your death is smoke to calm his nerves. He’s counting down the minutes until Jin calls him, but Tohma can’t seem to shake the sudden burst of numbness that shoots through his veins.
He hates to admit it, but your death has shaken him up more than he’d like. Of course, he’ll have to hide it. He’ll have to get a hold of himself – especially since everyone else will be in a tizzy. But even though he knows this, he’s having a hard time controlling his own emotions.
You’re the only one who is stupidly earnest in everything you do, allowing him bits of amusement in his life. You’re the only one that’s helped him feel like he could forget everything he’s got to do and be. You’re the only one who tries to lift the burden on his shoulders. You’re the only one and it makes Tohma’s lungs feel empty.
What vermin had killed someone as lovely as you?
“Welcome to high society,” Tohma had said, taking your hand in his for a dance. “That outfit suits you well. With that poise, you’ll have no trouble fitting in here.” And he was right, you looked beautiful, like the belle of the ball.
“Aha, sure,” you murmured, wincing as you stepped on his foot. “Oh god, I’m so sorry! I’m still so bad at this…”
“Inexperience is not a crime,” Tohma responded, twirling you in his arms. “The important thing is choosing to not remain ignorant when you don’t know something.” While most would assume Tohma was talking about your dancing capabilities, you knew that he meant something beyond that, too. You were smart like that, after all, and so hardworking. You chose to not remain ignorant.
“You’re right.” You nodded. “I’m gonna do my best.”
“I look forward to your efforts,” he hummed. “And in times of difficulty, I hope you’ll turn to those around you for help. I will be there to keep you safe.”
Tohma takes another drag of his cigarette, watching as the smoke fills the room. He told you he’d protect you. He told you, didn’t he? And yet he couldn’t.
Perhaps a lowly servant like him could never have protected you in the first place.
At the news of your death, Jin’s first move is to slash though the expensive furniture in his room, unsure of where else to let his emotions explode. His hand tightens around his sword as he stabs his sword in the ground, visualizing whoever had the audacity to touch what is his.
How dare they hurt you? How dare they take you away from him?
You, who’s been so stupidly obedient to him without any expectation of riches or glory. You, who’s been stupidly kind to him despite his terse nature. You, who’s been by his side without complaint as long as he ordered it.
“...I was too active yesterday. Massage me, servant,” Jin muttered, rolling onto his stomach to give access to his back. Without a word of complaint, you do as you’re told, though Jin couldn’t say you could be a masseuse anytime soon. “...What the hell was that? Put some muscle into it.”
“What? I’ve been told I give really good massages, though.”
Jin frowned. “From?”
“My dad.”
Jin snorted out a laugh. “Try harder.”
“Fine, fine,” you muttered, stretching your arms in front of you. “I’m gonna put my back into it!” Jin wondered if you’d actually be able to give him a proper massage, but the effort in itself was amusing (cute, even). Still, regardless of your massages, it was nice to have your hands on his back. He liked being close to you. “How was that?”
“It was fine.”
“What!” you exclaimed, incredulous, before grumbling, “You give a guy a massage and all he does is say it’s bad. Not even a word of thanks.”
With how you were yapping, you must’ve gotten quite comfortable with him. Jin couldn’t say he disliked it. “Never learn, do you?” he asked, rolling onto his back so that he can pull you on to the bed next to him. “I don’t take you being here for granted. I know it won’t last forever.”
Your eyes widened. “Huh?”
“That’s all I’m going to say.”
“Wha– you’re so–” you huffed, before shaking your head, seemingly pleased. “Fine, you win, your majesty. I suppose it's time for this servant to leave.” You made a move to get up, but Jin stopped you.
“I’ve got plans early tomorrow. Your house is too far. Stay here tonight.”
He still can’t forget the way you looked that night – bashful, sweet. He wanted to lock you in with him so that he could have you for as long as possible. Maybe he should’ve. He never took your existence for granted, valuing every second he’s spent with you, but when he said that he knew that your relationship wouldn’t last forever, he never thought it’d be because someone killed you. The thought makes hot rage course through his veins again.
He’s going to kill whatever bastard took you from him.
.
.
.
Faintly, your sage’s ring glows on your finger.
It asks you a question it’s asked you many times before: “What do you desire?”
You answer the question exactly as you’ve answered it before: “I want to go back.”
✮ tags ; afab!reader + fem!reader, reader is so painfully dense / naive, ambiguous relationships, friends to ???, somewhat unrelieved sexual tension, sex toys, guided masturbation kinda, kissing, groping, nipples play, squirting, dialogue heavy, vaguely post canon, petnames (kame-chan and jo-chan for togame, baby for reader) 18+
✮ wc ; 6.4k (you have got to be fucking with me)
✮ a/n ; the one fic i wont be mad if you ask for part two on lolol. title from a mac miller song (my favorite mac miller song) that reminds me of a lot of characters but i felt really fit this fic.
go listen to it. his best track. also this like... mega got away from me. togame sorry for blueballing you.
✮ synopsis ; your only goal is to have a half-way decent orgasm. togame, as your best friend, is determined to help you reach it.
"So," Togame leans back into your bed. "You bought a vibrator and... can't use it? Because you keep psyching yourself out?"
"Yeah," You sigh with your head hung low. "Paid good money for it and it's collecting dust in my drawer. I'm miserable."
Togame smiles a little from where he's laid across the width of your bed, back propped up against the wall slightly with his legs hanging off one edge. You kick his side lightly as he fails to contain his amusement.
"Do you enjoy seeing me suffer, huh? You take amusement in my pain, you bastard?"
"Pfft," He snickers, turning a little to face you better. "It's kinda hard not too. Just seems..."
"You think it's stupid," You frown. He scratches his jaw.
"I wouldn't say that. A little silly but—"
"Which is another word for stupid," You point out. He shakes his head.
"The connotations different. Stupid would mean I'm insulting you. I don't think it's stupid. Ridiculous, maybe." And then he laughs to himself like a jackass. "No... I take it back. It's definitely ridiculous."
"You asshole. I should kick you out of my house."
He smiles knowingly, lazy and bemused. "You're not gonna,"
Smug bastard. You groan in defeat. "But I should."
He doesn't reply, brushing you off as easy as ever. "Sorry. Just not sure what exactly you want me to do with that information."
You throw your hands up in the air. "I dunno? Fucking help me. Offer solutions. Use whats left of your brain after getting the shit beat out of you as a teenager. Something."
"Now who's being an asshole." He quips. You frown.
"I'm sorry," You say easily. Togame smiles softly though you miss it while you're looking away. "But...ugh."
"Got such a way with words." He hums sarcastically before sobering a touch. He's scrolling through his phone not entirely paying attenion. "I don't really get why you're askin' me. Don't you have better candidates for this conversation?"
You give him a long-suffering look. "No. Unfortunately I live here, so the answer is not really. I can't talk to Kotoha or Tsubaki about this. We talk about guys and stuff but it's usually pretty PG."
"So I'm your stand in for a girl best friend?"
You tilt your head. "Huh? No. You're just my best friend. I would bitch to you about this either way."
He stares at you for a long while before scrubbing a hand down his face. You can't understand his sudden reaction, watching in confusion as he takes a deep breath.
"Right. Right, I'm your best friend." Togame mutters mostly to himself, sighing before going back to his usual demeanor. He rubs his under his eye. "Really dunno what you're asking for. You can whine however much you want, though."
"I'm not whining," You pause before sighing again. "Okay. Maybe I am whining, like, a little. But you would too if you were me, okay? I want to..." You make a face, the words suddenly feeling clumsy on your lips. You're not even doing anything and you're getting all weird about it. "I just wanna...cum."
Togame pauses. He sits up, sort of suddenly after that and finally has the decency to take off his boots. He scoots to the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor to do it, and you can't see his face when he speaks again. You don't think twice about it.
"Have you not? Like... ever?"
"Huh? No, I have but it's not really satisfying. It doesn't scratch the itch for me, you know? That's what the toy was for."
Togame takes another minute or two of silence as he takes off his boots. You wonder if it always takes him so long to take them off. Seems inconvenient.
He goes back to laying down, leaning on the wall with his legs spread out. "What kinda toy is it anyway?
"Oh, it's—" You stop in the middle of your sentence, brow furrowing. "Wait. Should I be telling you this?"
"Are you suddenly gaining self-awareness? Little late for that." He smiles.
"That's true," You reply, relaxing again with your arms crossed. "Nothing complicated. A rabbit vibrator, but the kinda expensive ones."
"How much?"
"Twelve-thousand yen. I got it on sale too,"
"No wonder you're so peeved you can't use it," Togame comments evenly. "A lot of money to be collecting dust. You even take it out the box?"
You deflate all over again. "Yeah. Charged it. Cleaned it too. But I put it back."
"Lemme see,"
"Huh? Oh, okay. Sure."
You don't bother asking why Togame wants to see your sex toy. It doesn't occur to you that there'd be any reasons outside of plain curiosity which you can understand. Togame dated a girl long-term so he knows some things, but you figure any girl with a decent boyfriend wouldn't need to make the same use of toys as you do. It'd make sense he's never seen one up close and personal.
You scoot to the edge of the bed and lean slightly as you open the side drawer and pull the toy out where it sits in nice, cardboard package. You pass it off to Togame before sitting back comfortably against your headboard.
He sits the box in his lap and stares at it for a long while.
You wonder if this is weird.
It doesn't bother you much either way, but it it is...
Odd, just how long Togame stares at it. He undoes the top of the folded box, pulling it back to reveal the soft, baby blue vibrator. It's six inches long and curved, with a soft rubber attachment to stimulate your clit and angle for your g-spot at the same time. Made with a high quality velveteen silicone. It has a lot of settings, and does the sort of rumbly vibrations you know feel good as opposed to the mechanical buzz of cheaper kinds.
Completely unused, Togame holds in his hands for a while, grabbing it by the ends. He doesn't touch it in a way that's weird. More like he assesses it. Measures it. You don't know for what though.
"It's cute."
"Huh?"
"The vibrator, I mean." Togame comments, putting it back in the box. His expression is unreadable. Something simmers under the surface of his neutral face but you can't place what exactly. "It's a cute color and the little pointed part here is cute."
You place a hand on your chest and close your eyes in sincerity. "Thank you. I also think I have excellent aesthetic taste."
Another pause. Brief but not.
"Do you want help using it?"
"Wha—"
"The vibrator," Togame clarifies before you get through the rest of your sentence. "Do you want me to help you use it?"
Your mind blanks. Your mouth moves faster than you can.
"...In what way?"
Togame remains steady. "Getting you comfortable and putting in you. As far as solutions go, it's the best I've got."
...Huh?
"Wouldn't that be awkward for you?"
"Is it awkward for you?" Togame replies back.
You stop to consider the question then shake your head.
"I mean...It's you. I trust you and I'm grateful but this..." You furrow your brow and look towards him. "Can you really do something like that with me? Just to help me?"
"Yeah." He replies. The words come so easily to him you're startled. Was he always this casual? You guess in a way but still. It's surprising. "It's the most direct route to solve your problem, I think. Once you've done it once with someone else, you'll definitely be able to do it alone right?"
You reason about this and find it's a somewhat optimal solution. You can't figure out the exact source of your unease about all of it, though it's there. You can't figure out Togame either. You appreciate how much he seems to want to help you but it doesn't make your worries go away.
You frown a little deeper.
"You're thinking about it too hard." Togame interjects. His tone is warm and easy.
"You're not thinking about it hard enough," You respond back. "What are you trying to do anyway? To help."
"Scratch the itch for you. Just think of it like that."
"Does that do anything for you?"
He dodges the question. "Don't worry about me. I'm offering. Promise it's fine."
You frown with your legs crossed, staring at the empty space of the bed. "...I g-guess it's fine? I can't think of a reason to say no."
"You don't mind doing this with me? Or is it because you're okay with anyone?"
You shake your head.
"What are you saying? Of course it's because you're the one asking. I trust you."
He smiles genuinely at that, eyes closed in what seems like relief. "I just wanted to make sure."
Togame opens his eyes again and casts them your way. Your breathing feels shallow under the weighted glance. He sits up a little more and shrugs his jacket off his shoulders, placing it on the pillow next to you. He feels broader without the layer of fabric over his torso, white shirt stretching over his frame as he sits on the bed on his knees.
"Lay down. Get comfortable."
You nod, adjusting the pillows and things and trying not to feel self-conscious or get cold feet. It speaks to your desperation that you're taking this help so willingly and from your long time best friend no less. In the back of your head, you do feel a little strange.
Togame is just being a good friend, that's what you tell yourself. You believe it too.
He hovers above you first. You tilt your head to look at him, the short gap of space between you feeling particularly small while also being miles wide. Your stomach flutters as Togame's eyes fix on your lips.
He leans forward and presses his mouth to yours. It's chaste. You wonder if you look even half as surprised as you feel.
"What was that for?"
"Breaking the ice."
You mumble. "Oh..."
Togame kisses you again that time, and then one more time before speaking up. "You're so naive."
"Huh? No I'm not,"
He brushes you off again that time before sitting up again. He sits between your legs where you have them spread. You have no idea what he's thinking or why he's doing this.
Unlike most people, you usually do have a good read on what Togame is feeling. He's upfront most of the time, despite his posturing seeming wishy-washy. It's a little weird to feel so out of bounds around him, like he purposely has his guard up. You wonder if that guard is for you, or for him. Is he uncomfortable somehow? Is he trying not to hurt your feelings by not being interested? You're not really expecting that.
But if that were the case, there's no reason he would help you this way.
Before you get too entranced in your thoughts, Togame snaps you out of them.
"How do you normally do this?"
You blink and look up.
"Do what?"
"Get off," Togame answers. Your eyes meet and you find yourself wanting to look away. "You said it was unsatisfying so I thought it'd be better if we started there,"
"Uhm," You feel embarrassed trying to talk about this. You're not sure why. It's not something you'd feel self-conscious outside this specific context but Togame just seems more... intense then usual. Like he's being serious about your silly problem. "D-depends? Sometimes I watch porn or listen to audios or read. Not always."
"Got it. How do you touch yourself then?"
He looks expectant. You turn your head to look away from him. The minutes tick by.
"Uhm... just rubbing my c-clit usually. I have uhm, other toys I'll use sometimes too but I need to touch my clit to get off." You wonder if these are too many details. Togame is listening to it so carefully. "Uhm. If i-its too sensitive I'll touch over my clothes too. Sometimes I cum like that."
His face shifts. It lingers long enough for you to notice but not enough for you to process what it was. He's back to his usual self so quickly you wonder if you've made the entire thing up.
"Right. I think I know what your problem is,"
You feel a little relieved at that. "Really?"
He pauses before smiling a little with a friendly nod that reminds you of how you were when you were kids, a face that's unexpectedly kind. "Really."
You look at him expectantly.
"I think you're not building up to it enough." Togame comments, smoothly. You blink at him. "You're a girl, you know? Can't jump straight into it, you need to stimulate yourself more first and relax. You're so focused on cumming it backfires. I'll help you."
"How...?"
"I'll help you relax and help you figure out what you like. Don't think about it too hard and focus on feeling good."
"You really don't have to do this for me," You mumble. He smiles at you.
"C'mon. You just said I was your best friend right? I don't mind, so chill out and let me help."
"Okay," You nod, bright eyed. "Okay....thank you."
He makes a face at you before nodding. "Uh-huh. Of course."
Togame hovers above you with lazy smile. You close your eyes on instinct as you feel your lips press together. His lips are softer than you thought they'd be. A hand cups the back of your neck and brings you closer to him. The weight of his body makes you self-conscious about his proximity. You can smell the scent of his skin, feel his presence surround you as he kisses you soft to start.
The shift in the air surrounding you is gradual in a way that reminds you so much of Togame. He's not intense at the beginning, never is really is - but then his hand goes to hold your knees and pull your legs up. His tongue slips against the closed seam of your lips until they part, until he touches yours and you have to reconfigure how you breathe. He's so good at kissing you it makes you wonder if he's kissed you before and you can't remember. But then it feels good and you're reminded—
If it felt this good there's no way you would've forgotten it.
When you pull away for air to breathe, or start to stumble through a question on how this is helping - Togame shuts you up. It takes it happening twice for you realize it's deliberate. Every time he kisses you a little deeper, and the last time he slips his tongue in so far you'd think he's trying to eat you whole.
You're wet. You're unsure if you're allowed to feel guilty about it, or if you're even meant too. Anyone would be turned on getting kissed like this. You're really unsure about all of this but you're fine because it's Togame. There's no way he'd do anything bad to you or for you.
He's over protective in general, though he's rarely frank about it.
(If you were any less clueless, you'd would know that most times Togame is doing his best to protect from himself. Most times, he feels like the biggest danger to you)
Togame pulls away from your lips when you moan a little. You feel embarrassed at the state your left in and how he looks at you. Picking you apart in his mind but not with ill intent. Like he wants to know every thread of your want.
Again, you think he's going to tease you. Light but still teasing.
"Does that feel good?"
It's a serious question. It stuns you. Just a little. His hand on the back of neck feels hot. You notice the way his thumb caresses your nape and try not to stutter.
"Uh..y-yeah." You reply, trying not to look stupid. "I like kissing. Uhm. In general."
He doesn't react to that, nods in a way you find curt in comparison to how passionately he was kissing you just moments ago. "It'll help you relax." And then, a little softly. "If you want to kiss again and we're not already, ask."
An odd request but you acquiesce with another soft noise.
"Do you feel a little warmed up?"
His eyes are so strangely shaded in this light. You open your mouth to the awkward confession. "Oh... nn. I'm... y-yeah. I'm wet already."
"From kissing?"
You give him a sheepish look. Togame responds with another kiss that makes you feel like you're being driven into a corner. This one is hot and heavy, doesn't build up but starts with an almost oppressive air. He nips at you, teeth tugging at your lips and licking in earnest to your mouth. Long and deep until your brain feels melty, your thoughts swimming and clouded. Longing for touch and release. Arousal threads through the fibers of your muscles, makes you feel wound up tight - a serpents coil. You clench your thighs on instinct at the worsening wetness.
Your mouth feels swollen and bitten when you pull away again and Togame looks a little more like you're used to him looking. An underlying sense of smug self-satisfactions on his face as he looks down at you, not outweighed by his genuine ease.
A look on his face like he likes your company. You find him comforting in how easy it is to see.
"Is it okay to touch you in other places?"
"Uhm. Anywhere above the belt is fine, I think."
"Makes sense,"
He leans up and slides both hands underneath your hoodie. You're not really prepared for... this. You don't know if you can call it sex or not but whatever it is, you weren't intending for it to happening.
"You're not wearing a shirt," His hands feel so big on your waist. Big and calloused, split skin scarred over from fighting. "A bra?"
"A sports bra."
"Right."
He slides your hoodie up over your torso until it's bare and takes your sports bra along with it in one go. Your tits fall from them with a soft swish with how quick he does it, the light bounce making your skin grown hot. Togame hovers above you as he eyes them, palms just underneath but not touching.
"Stop looking so hard."
He brushes past that. "They're nice."
"Shut up," You say for the first time. Togame smiles slightly.
"Not a nice way to talk to someone who's helping you," He says sarcastically. You pout but refuse to apologize. He remains unbothered then goes back to being alarmingly serious. "Do you play with them?"
"H-huh? When I masturbate? Not really. I've never thought too."
"Why's that?"
You shrug. "The guys I dated used to touch them but it mostly felt weird, not good. Never thought of trying on my own."
He gives you a looking asking for permission. You nod. This really does not feel normal but the arousal clouding your brain is a lot louder than your sense of shame.
Togame's hands slide up your sides until he's cupping the roundness of your chest. His thumbs hover against hardened nipples, constrained in the touch. It's different than how other guys have done it for you. He's paying attention to that bit most, and he's going about it softly. Pushing the hardened bud with a light flick that sends a jolt of shock through your body.
He's quick to notice your reaction, green eyes flickering up before doing it again. You squirm, stretching your legs and shifting as another tick of arousal goes through your whole body. Your clit is starting to throb so much it hurts. If it were you, you would've started touching yourself a long while ago. As soon as you felt yourself get wet.
Togame is taking his time, though. And you're feeling it so much it's a little shameful for you. He does it again, touching your nipples - both side at the same time. Your body is pushing for more.
You've managed to keep the noise down but you're pushed over your usual limits. A moan spills from your lips as you push up into his touch. "That's good, huh? Just needed it a little softer and more focused."
You try not to be any more embarrassing. Wouldn't anyone feel weird over this?
He's the most important person in your entire life, and he's seeing you like this. Not judging you, just remaining even and consistent. Teasing you but not enough to make you upset. He's being so careful. Is this the kind of boyfriend he is? You think that must make him popular, so then... why does it never work out? He's never dated anyone longer than a year.
But he's being so sweet to you despite not dating. He's always kind but this is different. You can't imagine who would see this part of him and break up.
You try not to think about any of this but the only other thing you can focus on is him rubbing your nipples and how nice it feels. The moan of his name is pitchy, sounds foreign to your own ears with how high and broken it is.
"Kame-chan," Your voice is warbly when you ask. You just want to stop thinking. "Kiss?"
He pauses. You think he's going to deny you at first.
"Fuck. That ain't fair, you know?"
You don't know what he means, but he complies and kisses you open mouthed as he plays with your tits. Rubs and flicks them just the way you like. It feels so good. You've never felt anything like it before. Your tummy flutters, honeyed lust dripping down your inner thighs.
Your body moves on it's own, your hands carding through his hair as arousal starts to pool. Your panties feels soaked and sticky, through the fabric. You shift again trying to relieve the feeling, brain scrambled by Togame's touch.
You're so horny you can't make sense of anything. Your body is a relentless echo of your wants and needs - demanding attention. His attention, specifically. Need curls up in your chest.
Between kisses you confess this to Togame, who you trust now more than ever despite feeling so incredibly vulnerable. How could you not go with it when he's taking such good care of you?
"Wanna cum so bad," You mutter, sloppy between kisses. Togame takes in a deep breath as he pulls away.
"You think you're worked up enough for it?"
You see through him instantly even in your haze. "Don't be mean to me, you jerk."
"Caught me, huh? Okay, okay. How do you normally do this?"
"Do what?"
"Fuck yourself with something,."
The words send heat sparking against your spine. You tuck your face against his jacket where it's laying besides you and huff. It smells like him. "Ngh. Usually finger myself a little first."
"Got a good idea then." He hums. The sound of his voice, low and smooth, makes you feel comforted. "I'll lay next to you and help keep you distracted while you open yourself up, yeah? Nothing below the belt 'n all. And when you're already I'll put in for you and turn it on."
You sniff. "Okay."
He smiles at you, pulling his hands and body away from you before laying besides you instead. He lets you rest your head against his arm and shoulders - sneaking the rest of his arm around and underneath you, squeezing one of your tits. He presses your body into him and gropes around the bed for the box with your toy, grabbing it from inside before shoving it away.
Up close, you can feel his muscles even better than you could. You wonder how someone so relaxed could be this built but try not to let it burden your brain. He smells so nice. Did he always? You feel too horny to remember, but you like it.
You can feel him glancing down at you, amused.
"Comfy?" Togame's voice vibrates through your whole body.
"Uh-huh."
"If you turn your head towards me I can kiss you and touch you. Keep your mind occupied a bit."
"Oh. That makes sense."
"It does right? Go ahead and start."
You think you should tell him not to watch. Keeps his eyes for himself. But the focus of his gaze makes you burn so much hotter you don't bother. He's already seen so much, anyway.
You shimmy out of your sweat pants until they're down at your ankles revealing your panties. Baby blue printed boyshorts, fabric soaked until they look a nearly new navy shade. You feel his laughter less than you hear it, turning your head to glare at him. He smiles a little at you.
"Those are cute too," Togame comments. You can hear his voice so clearly like this you think you'll collapse if you pay too much attention to it. "Too bad you made 'em all messy."
You swallow a sound, too horny to protest. He stops you before you can take your panties off.
"Didn't you say you normally touch over the fabric when you're sensitive? Do that."
"But—"
"Just trust me," He promises. He kisses your hair. Your heart thuds when he does it. It's an innocent gesture. "It'll make it more satisfying, okay?"
Your shaky as you spread yourself a little wider and slip your hand down between your legs. All the desire you're holding starts to unwind as your middle finger slides over the soaked seam of your cotton panties. They're cuter than normal, printed with florals and lace trimmed. Absolutely drenched in your arousal. You rub a small circle into your clit and your whole body breaks out into shivers, your eyes fluttering closed at the sensation.
You could cum like this. Just from this. But you want something more, something better so you force yourself to go slow.
"It's messy," Togame hums, nonchalant. "You get easier than I thought you would. Are you going slow so you don't cum right away?"
"Don't point it out, aah,"
"You should cum if you want too," Togame suggests.
"No," You whine. "Wanna cum with the toy."
"Wanna cum with a cock inside you, ya mean? A silicone one but still. Not enough to just touch yourself, you need something more, is that it?"
He says the words so casually, so lightly. Almost friedly despite how filthy they are. There's no malice in them.
Spoken like high praise or affection. The kind you'd show a kitten,.
"Kame—"
"Didn't know your had such a need pussy. No wonder it's hard to cum all by yourself, huh?"
"Stop being mean," You gasp. "I'll cum,"
He laughs at that. It's genuine and bright.
"Too much for ya, huh? S'okay. Take these off now. Finger yourself. Make sure you get all that mess you made so we can use on your toy. It'll hurt if it's dry going in."
You feel blindsided by just how much Togame is talking. He's been so quiet, so brief and unreadable. He feels like his usual self too much, to your complete detriment. His voice is teasing, yet warm and sweet. He smells good and he's pressing you all against his chest. Your fingers tremble as you slide your panties down to your ankles same as before. You end up shimmying the rest of your clothes off.
You're so aroused it's easy to get the first finger in. Your hole twitches, the entrance pleasurable as slowly ease your middle finger down to knuckle. You til your head towards Togame as you get adjusted to the intrusion easily from how wet you are, pouting your lips. He gives into the kiss right away, warm tongue and soft lips familiar to you now. You ease yourself into the pace of his kiss, whimpering into his mouth as you slowly open yourself on second finger.
"I want it so bad," You mumble. He laughs against your mouth.
"I can tell. Can barely string a sentence together. You want to cum huh?"
"Uh-huh."
"What a naughty pussy. You're trembling from just fingering yourself. Won't you cum right away if I put in you at once? I'll have to go slowly," Togame explains. He speaks the filth so naturally. "Take my time so you're stretched nicely and not scared anymore. I'll turn the vibrator on after it's already inside so you can't run away from it. You can cum to your hearts content, then."
"I'm still scared," You admit. You're just so horny you're unsure of what else to do. He leans down to kiss you again, nose brushing against yours intimately.
"Don't be scared. Just focus on stretching so you're not so tight. I'll praise you if you take it in easily."
Your voice gives once you manage to get a third in. Togame doesn't stop kissing you, barely giving you enough air to breathe. He plays with your chest with his free hand, and holds the toy with the other.
A string of spit connects you. Your thighs are aching, body burning hot as you look at him directly.
"Wanna cum," You slur your words, speaking in short sentences. Togame grins a little.
"Take your fingers out and show them to me."
Your stomach flips but you comply with the request. Your face burns from how soaked they are.
"Good. Rub them on the toy now. Get it as sticky as you can."
Your heart is pounding is loud in your ears as you clumsily coat your new toy with your own mess. You watch it gain a fresh shine, baby blue turning reflective as you push it against and between your fingers until all of it's coated as best you can.
"That's it, good. Spread your legs now. Gonna put it in. Want me to kiss you?"
You nod sheepishly and close your eyes. Togame laughs warmly before kissing you again.
Your whole body throbs in anticipation for it. A muscular forearm and hand slip between your legs as you spread yourself open, your feet flat on the bed for easier access. Togame forces his tongue into your open mouth, kissing you wet and hard as he tweaks your nipples. You feel pleasantly suffocated from the pressure before gasping into his mouth.
The swollen silicone head of your toy stretches your pussy more than you thought it would. You've never had a toy with angles so the sensations are all new. You can feel it so well inside of you, you can barely keep your composure long enough to stop moaning as just the tip slides in. Togame swallows each noise from your mouth. His kisses feel almost ferocious now when they were so composed before, free hand cupping your jaw from one side.
He fucks it in slowly, rocking the toy by its handle slowly until you get used to it - giving you moments between to adjust. You can feel it bottom out inside of you, the head pressing so precise on your swollen gspot you could cum from bucking your hips. Your sensitivity is over the top. Every touch and and tease and bump makes your cunt clench and throb.
The blunt end of the rubber attachment presses against your needy little clit. Togame moves the toy a little, fucking you with it slightly again. Barely. It still nearly makes you cum.
You feel like he's edging you. Anymore than this, you think you'll go crazy.
"Kame-chan." Your voice is beyond wrecked, throat as one of your hands reaches to cling desperately to his short sleeves. You fist it, teary. "Jo, turn it on please. Make me cum. Wanna cum so bad, 'm so close, please, please. C'mon."
"Turning it on, baby. Easy."
The word baby makes your body melt.
A slight click sounds as Togame turns on the vibrator.
Your whole body lurches at the sudden change. Togame pins you with his own, keeps his hands steady and the toy inside of you without skipping a beat. The soft whirr of the first setting completely unravels you. It feels like every nerve in your body is being pulled apart, electricity through a frayed copper wire. The muscles in your body aching with anticipation after so many dissatisfying orgasms clench tight as your body prepares itself for something so vast your mind can't process it at all. Your hands fist at your sides, clutching the sheets as you get close to cumming.
You're thrashing from the sensation. It's so much, too much - you've never felt anything like it before. You feel full and euphoric and your head is spinning. It feels so good it terrifies you, makes you clench up hard in how unbearably unrelenting it is. There's no pace, no where to escape from. The vibrations are strong but not overwhelming to the point you can't feel them.
You're so senstive all over your body and it's touching you in two places.
Your spine starts to curl into an arch, hips stuttering and twisting as you feel it rushing over your consciousness. Fuck, you've wanted this for so long. It's exactly the high you've been chasing after on your own for so many months it's making your brain feel like like mush. Animal instinct forces your hips up, bucking against Togame's hand where he holds the toy. You're fucking yourself on it. You can hear him laugh as he moves to meet you ruts.
You feel like you're losing your fucking mind.
"G-gonna—fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! I can't, I can't, I can't. Feels so good, Ican't."
He leans in and gets close to your ear, tongue caressing the lobe before biting it soft.
"Yes you can. You want it so bad don't you? Wanna cum all over this cock so bad you've been aching for it. I know you want it, I can see it. Look how much your moving your hips." His voice is shaking, hands flicking your nipples messy and harsh as he speaks. "Look what a mess you're making. You're leaking everywhere. You want it badly right? Don't think about it and cum. Cum as much as you want. Cum for me,"
The last words are the ones to snap the thread inside of you.
Your brain bluescreens as your body seizes before finally, finally giving you the orgasm you've been chasing. You smash your lips against Togame's as your spine arches off the bed, thrashing in place. Something in you undoes - and you feel a wet rush spray from between your legs at the same time your orgasm hits. Your mind feels completely and utterly blanked. Your body is in total rapture, uncontrollable pleasure fucking your brain until you're stupid and slack jawed. It feels so good, so so good. You didn't know anything could ever feel that good in your life. It's scary.
You feel like you could get addicted. Your high rides out for much longer than ever before. In between sloppy kisses, you say the same words over and over and over. Togame grips you close to him as you do.
"Jo," You mutter. "Thank you, thank you, thank you—feels so fffucking good, fuck. I can't, I can't. Off, off. 's too much, I'll pee."
Instead of turning it off, he turns the vibration up by one. Your eyes fly open as you gasp, words rushed. Panicked.
"I can't," You swear, looking at him for mercy. His face is flushed. "I can't, Jo-chan, I'll cum again, I'll—"
"Cum." He says, demands - voice rougher than you've heard it all night. "I know you can. Cum,"
On demand practically, your legs seize up and you cum again a second time in near succession. You feel so fucking incredible you think you're going to die.
"Fuck!"
You squirt again, body nearly giving out as more short spurts soak your sheets and mattress. Your pussy is pulsing in the after math, trembling and clenching so violently. You whine loudly as Togame stops the vibration and pulls the toy out, shivering as it catches on your tight hole before coming out of it with a soft pop.
Your legs are twitching.
Even though Togame has no more reason to kiss you he does. And even though you're well past the point of needing to kiss him back, you do more affectionately than any time prior.
"You made me feel so good it's freaking me out." You admit, shaking uncontrollably.
Togame pauses before breaking out into genuine laughter. He kisses your head, arm wrapping around your shoulders until you're hugged against him.
"You were so sexy like that."
You blink at him, face flushed.
"Sexy?"
"I was really hard seeing you cum," He says, casually looking down. "I didn't know you could be cute and ask for kisses. You're usually more—"
You put a hand over his mouth.
"Whatever you're gonna say shut up,"
He just smiles, cheek against your hair. "I'm glad you got to feel good."
"What about you?" You mumble, feeling your heart pick up just asking. "Are you still hard? I feel like I should pay you back somehow,"
He looks at you seriously. "Do you know what you're implying?"
You fold a little but nod anyway. "Yeah."
"Do you really? The monk thing is a joke, you know. If you offer something like that, I won't be able to stop."
"It's fine," You say confidently before adding, much quieter. "I r-really want to do... it with you."
Togame pauses before kissing you deeply. Your whole body feels molded to him now.
"Damn it." He looks down at you, black hair sticking to his skin. You wanna feel his undercut with your hands in his hair. "You know this ain't normal between friends, right?"
"Uhm, yeah? I figured."
"Don't go around getting help from anyone."
You shake your head. "It's only 'cause it's you."
He scrubs a hand over his face and laughs. "You don't need to stir me up anymore. I'm already hard enough. Can't keep my composure at all."
You tilt your head in confusion. Togame just sighs.
"Don't worry about it." He says, shaking his head. "How soon can I get my thanks?"
Your eyes widen as you clench again. "Uhm. Now, if you want it."
He grins a little lazy, eyes swimming with adoration.
"I do," He hums, laying back as you get up from where you've been laying. "Come over here and let me touch you properly then."
"Is that what you really want?"
You climb ontop of him, bare naked almost as your hoodie falls back down over your torse. Togame slides the fabric up and gives you a meaningful look.
a/n: may challenge day 18. implied murder/kidnapping, stalker’s pursuit, manipulation, bruises, blood, obsession.
word count: 1.3k
Every time you looked around, he was always there.
You had resigned yourself to your fate as soon as you’d received the mark, readily accepting death when it would come for you, and knowing that your destiny was completely inevitable–so when you had met Kazuo Yashiki and he helped you to rid yourself of it, you felt gratitude beyond anything you’d experienced before. Blessed, even, you could say.
But as grateful as you were to have been cured, and as much as you had wanted to help Yashiki get rid of his own mark, Kujou manor was not your place in the world. You had only clung to Yashiki’s side, terrified, as he investigated and confronted the spirits, and you knew you could only handle so much death, despair, and terror all at once. The others had all left as well, once they had found their solution they would take their leave, so you thought that it would be the same for you. You said your goodbyes to Kazuo, and went to sleep with the plan to return home the next day.
You thought as much. But that certainly didn’t mean that would be your destiny.
In the end, you had nowhere else to turn but the forest. He already knew where you lived, where you worked, what stores you went to to buy your groceries, he knew the school well enough to corner you and the sewers better than anybody else. The forest was the only place you might be able to lose him in…
…But as soon as he opened the door to the cabin you were hiding in, you knew you were as good as dead.
Ever the quiet man, Yashiki silently walked through the one-room shack, his footsteps thudding in your ears as you trembled behind the only cover in the room–a cabinet, barely big enough to conceal you from roaming eyes. In your heart you prayed, harder than you ever had before, that he would give up and leave, that he would forget about you, that he would just leave this wicked obsession he had with you and just let you go home-
But then, the footsteps stopped, though you heard him still breathing heavily. And a hand slammed down on the filing cabinet and forced a scream from your throat, as he wrenched it aside and let it fall with an earth-shattering crash. You couldn’t even move to defend yourself, as Kazuo’s arm shot out and he grabbed you by the wrist, to rip you out from your hiding place and tug you into his grasp.
The next few moments were all a blur, your mind a haze of kicking, screaming, and desperate thrashing in his arms until you managed to loosen his grip by dragging your nails sharply across his face. The second Kazuo stumbled back and clutched his cheek, you took advantage of the miniscule window of opportunity and tore out of the cabin like a shot, the sound of the door slamming open echoing in the shadows of the cursed forest and resonating in your ears as you sprinted down the path. The only thing louder than that, as well as your footsteps thudding over the soft dirt and fallen branches, was Kazuo shouting at you in that booming voice to come back.
He didn’t need to try and convince you, though. Because before you could even think about reaching the exit of the park, or losing him in the darkness cast out by the trees, you felt a momentary contact with something against your ankle, followed by a painful tumble to the ground as well as sharp pains shooting up your leg like blades.
You couldn’t possibly see the bruises with how dark it was, but as soon as you shook off the dizziness from your fall you knew your ankle had to be sprained, if not completely broken. Either way you weren’t going to be walking on it, much less escaping your dogged pursuer. Kazuo’s love was twisted and steeped in an obsession of which you’d never seen before…and as you watched him slow his approach, his glasses broken in your struggle and his breathing heavy, you knew your options were running out.
“Oh, honey…”
With so many bushes and branches lining the path, you couldn’t even move away further than an inch, which was all you wished you could do–not just because he terrified you, but because you despised the tone of his voice in that moment…so gentle and unlike his true personality, it was the tone he used when he wanted you to calm down, so you might be convinced to give in to him at last. Kazuo’s face came into view as he finally got close enough to kneel in front of you, and if you hadn’t already trembled because of the cold night air, then the wicked gleam in his eyes was surely the cause of it.
“Did you hurt yourself? Let me see…you know you shouldn’t be wandering out here all alone.”
You flinched at Kazuo’s fingers brushing your skin, but you had no choice but to let him do as he pleased as he took hold of your leg, and tugged down your sock to have a look at the injury. You wondered if he was really so deluded that he’d erased your desperate attempts to escape him from his mind…but it was all the more realistic that he was simply acting as if it had never happened, so as to cling to the chance that this whole situation could fall into normalcy. How you so wanted to kick those delusions from his head completely…
“Ow-!”
You cringed and your leg twitched at the sudden increase in pain, but he held you steady and continued to press down on the swollen skin. Biting your tongue hard enough to taste blood was your only course of action to endure the burn, but finally he let up again and regarded you with tension in his features. But not just tension…
“…I bet it hurts…but not as much as watching you leave me. I’m still in a lot of pain.”
What was once a touch meant only to survey your injury became a possessive, iron-fisted hold, his eyes dark behind his cracked glasses but his intention clear as day. In the distance, you heard the ominous snapping of twigs and groaning sounds of the forest…and without any hope to get away, you weren’t sure what you were more scared of; the known depravity of Kazuo or the unknown terror of the accursed woods you’d been trapped in.
“…Did you seriously think I’d let you leave with Mashita? You think he would’ve protected you?”
Yashiki spat into the dirt, as if the memory alone of his companion was enough to make him sick. You didn’t, in fact, think you’d leave with Satoru while Kazuo slept, the detective’s claims of Yashiki acting suspiciously not even a concern in your mind at the time–but you knew the truth now, and now he was convinced that you’d planned to “run away together”…and you still didn’t know if Mashita was okay or not, after running for your life following the gunshots you’d heard ringing out inside Kujou mansion.
“You don’t need protecting. You don’t have to fear me…I saved your life, I’ve always kept you safe.”
Amongst the cold chill that blew through you, and the damp ground underneath that seeped into your clothes, Kazuo’s warmth as he pulled you into his embrace spread throughout your body, and made you all the more aware of the numbness that was creeping into your limbs. A calloused palm cupped your cheek, and too weak to push him away, you caved to his whims without resistance and let him lean in to press a kiss to your temple, before muttering into your ear.
“…And you still owe me for that.”
Mashita was gone. Mary was gone. The other residents were gone…even Saya Kujou was gone. Yashiki had no one left to protect, no resentments left untended and no spirits to banish from tormenting innocent lives.
All he had left was you, and he had more than enough time to collect the debt you owed.
— "Oh, listen, this boy here…whenever he senses anything romantic…he goes beet red in the face!!" - Tasuku Tsubakino (Ch.66)
— Hayato Suo, Hajime Umemiya, Jo Togame
[Masterlist]
Wow, my windbreaker brain rot has shot me into a whole new timeline where I can sit down and write. Not gonna lie, not my favorite but it is what it is. I've beat my first fic for a fandom nerves.
Hajime Umemiya
When Umemiya had called a rooftop meeting, Sakura had been through them enough to know what to expect. Umemiya would either show up late or be completely off-topic until someone, mostly Hiragi, stepped in to direct the meeting to its actual purpose. Most of the time, the distractions would be on his plants or his giddy plans of having another barbeque with everyone. It used to be annoying, Sakura once believed the reason why Umemiya was so unserious was because he didn't care. But he knows better now than to take that carefree smile on the surface level. Deep down, Umemiya is a great leader who knows when it's time to get serious.
But this...
Sakura's cheeks are already turning pink.
This is a bit too much for him. He hasn't leveled up enough for this.
"The Three Sisters is a method of gardening that involves planting corn, beans, and squash together. The corn provides support for the beans and squash, the beans add nitrogen to the soil, and the squash's sprawling vines create shade and discourage pests too. It's really quite fascinating, don't you think so Ume?" you ask, lightly petting the leaves of his most recent tomato plant sprout. Your eyes downcasted as you thumb away bits of dirt that happened to be blown by the wind onto the greenery. Perhaps it's because you're one of the few people who entertain Umemiya's rapid obsession with his garden, even going out of your way to tell him facts to better his plot and compliment him on his efforts. Heck, Sakura has seen Umemiya crying because Nirei has told him that his saplings look bigger each time. While Sakura does not doubt that those feelings and expressions were genuine, the look Umemiya is giving you, a look you're not even seeing, feels different. Umemiya himself is different.
"Yeah..." Umemiya responds in a soft tone, his voice almost a whisper. Their usually talkative leader who won't shut up for half a second, who talks over people, is currently so distracted that it's kind of embarrassing watching him. He's been staring at you, eyes zeroing in on your fingers as they brush against the leaves, almost entranced by the sight. Sakura would give anything to leave right now, this second-hand embarrassment is too much. Luckily, Umemiya finally seems to register that you and he aren't alone despite the fact he was the one who called the meeting in the first place. His head perks up confused, hands on top of his knees, as he's greeted with varying expressions from his grade captains. Hiragi in particular looks like he's having both a stomach ache and the urge to slap the back of Umemiya's head. The urge is only partially restrained when you also look up, sending them all a little wave. Hiragi isn't going to slug Umemiya if you're there to see it, it's the pride of a man to not get beaten up in front of his crush.
"Oh shoot, you're all here already? Why didn't you say anything?" Umemiya whines, standing up while dusting his pants free of any lingering dirt. He extends a hand to you, not before rubbing his palm furiously on the back of his shirt, to help you up, "I'll see you later?"
"Mm, sure. Good luck with your new sprouts. Remember to remove the bottom leaves once the plants are over 3 feet tall. I'll be upset if they develop fungus issues," you pat Umemiya's cheek gently, ignoring the way that Umemiya completely melts openly at the gesture. You turn to nod at the rest of them, offering another wave goodbye, as you pass them to exit the rooftop. The resounding sound of the door closing finally sets them back on track.
"We did," Hiragi speaks up as soon the vibrations in the air fizzle out with an exasperated expression, referring back to Umemiya's first question, "You were too busy staring. We've been here for almost ten minutes, you idiot."
"Sorry, sorry, my bad," Umemiya laughs easily, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. Although he's been clearly called out, Umemiya doesn't seem the slightest bit ruffled. Sure, he looks a little bashful but Sakura doubts that he'll tone it back much to the embarrassment of any onlooker. Maybe one day, he'll be able to look that happy with his own feelings on display.
A sudden clap has Sakura jolting back to reality, Umemiya's loud voice returning back to something familiar, "Now then, come sit! I prepared some snacks for us all to share."
Everyone else seems used to Umemiya's behavior and they easily follow him, completely disregarding your and Umemiya's interactions as if they never happened. Sakura doesn't really get it but if everyone else is unbothered, it'd be seriously uncool if he said anything. He lets out a sigh, whatever. It's none of his business anyway.
"Sakura, why are you blushing?" Nirei, the bastard, pipes up behind him. Suo, the even worst bastard, laughs behind his hand like he's some rich Victorian lady.
"Huh, no I- I'm not." Sakura's cheeks went from pink to red, now that he's been caught. He looks away, avoiding eye contact, "S-Shut the hell up!"
Hayato Suo
"Mr. Customer, if you're dissatisfied with our menu, you're more than welcome to leave."
Sakura blinks, head jerking up as he crosses the threshold of Café Pothos. Initially, he assumed those words were directed at him even though it wouldn't make sense. He quite likes the menu despite only ordering the same thing each time. But no, when Sakura looks up it's to a rather unexpected sight. Suo sits at the bar counter, back ram-rod straight and his hands folded in his lap, with that ever-pleasant smile on his lips. Across from him stands a worker Sakura has never seen before. He always assumed that Kotoha was the only employee, but today seems to be full of surprises. A green apron with white ties, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and hands fisted against the hips.
"The bakery across the street would love to hear your complaints, Mr. Customer."
---
There is something about the new worker and Suo that keeps Sakura glancing back at them after he's sat himself in a secluded corner. Perhaps it's because it's a new face he has yet to meet at a place he frequents so often. It's normal to be curious right? Or maybe it's Suo being here alone. He's never seen the man "out in the wild" before. They aren't even looking at him, Suo hadn't even looked up when he first opened the door although Sakura is sure that Suo is aware of him. He's creepy like that. The new worker, however, whips an annoyed glance at Suo before letting out an irritated huff, arms crossing over the green apron, and glaring down at Suo’s smiling face. A face that would remain ever-pleasant in any given situation.
Regardless...
"Is this your version of service? It must be hard on the customer," Suo chuckles, a slight tilt of his head that bounces his tassel earring. Suo's laugh, however, causes Sakura to feel a hint of surprise. It's not a laugh he expects the man to give, yet at the same time, it suits him.
"That's because you're a terrible customer and a pain in the ass." The worker sneers, leaning in so the two of them are face to face.
Suo seems to be difficult for anyone to handle.
"It's busy today," Kotoha says, appearing out of thin air and scaring Sakura half to death. A plate of steaming omurice slides in front of him because he really does only order one thing here. It's not a great conversation starter, but it's nice of her to break the odd tension that has settled over the cafe. Kotoha is also looking to the side, watching the scene of her co-worker and Suo bickering and arguing. Passive aggressive comments are being flown out, scathing remarks padded with polite voices, so much so that the two of you don't seem to register anyone else around. Completely wrapped up in your world of irritation versus amusement.
"What…are they even arguing about?" Sakura chances to ask, his eyes still glued to the curve of Suo's smile, red eye focused solely on you. His hand idly reaches for his spoon, scooping up a bit of rice and egg, yet it hovers in the air ideally. Suo has his head tilted and is leaning somewhat in the worker's space. His eyes don't stray, watching each shift in facial expression carefully to gauge whether his words are having their intended effect. He looks like he's having way too much fun.
"Oh, that." Kotoha giggles, placing her palm on the table. She too looks like she's having way too much fun, "They always go back and forth like that. It's like a game of cat and mouse with those two. They're both stubborn as hell so it's a constant power struggle between them. Although, I wonder what they're arguing about this time. They always bicker at each other when we change shifts."
Kotoha shakes her head, a fond smile on her face. She glances briefly at Sakura before her eyes drift back to the other two. She raises her hand, finally cutting the bubble between you and Suo.
"Hey, I'm back from break. Thanks for covering for me," she calls, waving her hand in the air. The frown that was permanently on your face melts away when you break eye contact with Suo, returning to a more neutral blank look. You only nod to Kotoha, flashing up a thumbs-up, and you move to head back to the kitchen. But not before sticking your tongue out at Suo over your shoulder as you disappear through the doorway. Sakura blinked surprised, he had somewhat expected a different reaction than something so...tame. His eyes drift to Suo and he can feel his cheeks heat up.
He doesn't think he's seen Suo look happier.
Jo Togame
"See, you peel off the seal on the cap. Remove the ring from the little plastic piece you use to push the marble. Then, with your thumb, press down, and poof, the marble drops and you can enjoy!" you grin as you move slowly for Sakura to see your hands with each instruction. The fizz of carbonation and the clink of the marble hitting the glass amplified louder in the abandoned auditorium. A few other shishitoren members are loitering, but only you and Sakura are sitting up on the edge of the stage. After the embarrassment of not knowing how to open the ramune Togame had given him, he sought you out to explain it to him. Sakura didn't think he could stomach it if he went back to Togame again for help. He follows your movement, his fingers removing the thin seal. Popping the ring off the marble pusher, and with his thumb, pushes on the marble. His thumb slips a few times, but you're patient as you coax him to try again. With his third attempt, he feels the marble give, the rewarding sound of bubbles popping.
"Thanks..." Sakura mumbles, a faint blush on his cheeks as you cheer your ramune's together as you take a swig.
"No problem," you say nonchalantly, leaning your weight back on your arms. With the bottle held in your hand, you watch Sakura, who is intently staring at the drink on his own. The silence between you isn't exactly uncomfortable, but you can sense the slight embarrassment oozing off him. "Soooo... how's it taste?"
He gives a soft hum before taking a small sip, the fizzy liquid leaving a tingling sensation on his tongue. It's not as sweet as he thought it’d be. It's rather subtle for a soda. He takes a longer sip this time, the fizz tickling his nose and bubbles popping against his lip. Looking at you sidelong, he can see you already staring at him excitedly. You weren't kidding when you said you were a big fan of this.
"It's sweet, I guess," his voice soft as he shrugs. A few strands of his white hair fell in front of his face. His eyes glance up at you as you stare at him intently, waiting for him to continue. He awkwardly bites the inside of his cheek. It still feels weird having people who actually want to hear his opinion, even if it's as small as a drink. "A bit strange… The flavor is nice, but the fizz is new."
He takes another sip, careful with the angle he tilts the bottle lest the marble block the opening. He doesn't really understand the appeal of the marble. It's a nuisance. The fizz was the best part of the soda, but the clinking made it impossible to drink it quietly. Besides, he holds the ramune bottle out, how the hell do you even get it out? Does he need to throw it against a wall to break the bottle? He doesn't want to get broken glass everywhere since someone could accidentally step on it.
"Is the marble irritating you?" you ask, laughing quietly under your breath to not set Sakura off into another tomato-faced explosion.
"No!" he answers with a quick hiss, cheeks flushing. He can feel you stare at him as a smirk dances across your lips. He can already envision the teasing you’re concocting to make him react. He gives another soft huff, refusing to look at you, as he fidgets with the bottle. He doesn't want to ask you to help again. He already feels like a helpless idiot. Instead of commenting, you swing yourself upwards, planting your hand on your knee. The other hand, wrapped around the bottle, moves to your lips as you down the rest of your drink. The fizz of bubbles pops in the air while Sakura looks at you bewildered. Weren't you supposed to drink carbonated drinks slowly or you'll stomach hurt? Did you become immune or something from drinking so many?
"Come on, let's go. I still haven't finished my ramune 101 class," you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, winking over your shoulder which sends Sakura into another pink mess, as you slide off the stage.
"W- What do you mean we’re not done?" he stammers quickly, flustered as he scrambles up to follow you. He feels a bit dizzy from going from a sitting position to standing too quickly. He grips the bottle in his hand and takes a few quick steps to catch up to you as you stride to the doors leading outside the auditorium. You laugh again when he rushes to catch up. His quick reaction time betrays his small stature. It's kinda cute.
"It means I'm gonna teach you how to get the damn marble out, genius" you tease, shoving his shoulder as you reach the doors. Opening them, the two of you were met with the cool outside air. It's refreshing after being indoors for so long and the auditorium has gotten you both hot and stuffy. Hence the initial ramune drinks. You quickly take his hand, ignoring the screams, as you drag Sakura to the side of the building. "Togame! Are you sleeping still?"
"Huh?" a tired voice answers groggily from the other side of the wall. Togame is sitting on the ground next to the wall with his back against the auditorium. He has his legs stretched out, his head leaning back on the wall, rubbing his eyes to clear the ever-constant droop in his eyes. He looks as if he is napping before being rudely interrupted, "I was..."
"Oops. Hehe, sorry," you chuckle, hands raised up in a mock surrender although you don't particularly look apologetic. To be fair, Togame doesn't look upset either. Only gives you and Sakura a sleepy smile and nods as he raises his arm high to stretch. His green eyes drifted to the bottles of ramune in your hands with a curious tilt of the chin. In response, you beam at him, rattling the marble inside the glass bottle before handing it to him. "Please, if you could."
Togame snorts as he takes the bottle. There's a hint of playfulness in his tired eyes as he shakes the bottle a few times, letting the marble inside thump against the glass. It's funny watching the marble rattle around. It reminds him of a little toy marble maze he had as a child. He flicks his gaze to look at Sakura, who stands off to the side stiffly. The poor kid looks ready to bolt at any second when given an opening. His own half-finished bottle lays limply in his hand, the marble reflecting off the sun's light.
"You know you just have to twist the cap in the opposite direction right?" he says, wrapping his fingers around the blue lid and twisting the cap off. Turning the bottle over, he catches the marble from the opening into the palm of his hand. He extends his hand, sliding the marble into your waiting ones. "I know you're strong enough to do that."
"Yeah, but my hands get cramps and it's impossible to move it!"
"I don't think that's how that works...But if it really is too hard, you can keep coming to me."
Sakura stands by, feeling out of place as you go back and forth with Togame. Yet, he doesn't feel like an intruder this time, merely an observer. He looks down at his own bottle, hands moving to twist the cap off while making sure he doesn't spill the drink.
It's easy. It pops right off with barely any effort. Sakura has quite literally seen you throw a man double your size over your shoulder.
The marble reflects his face messily, but there's a shine of red glinting off the surface.
summary: you've loved soshiro since you were seven. he will always place his duty above you.
chapt 1 / chapt 2 / chapt 3 / chapt 4 / chapt 5
Once a month, Hoshina Soshiro drops by your apartment for tea with you.
It isn’t often that you both get the same day off. Him, with his vice captain duties that never end because Kaijus don’t deign to give him a break, as he often complains. You, spending hours if not days buried in the blade forgery at Izumo tech so much so your parents remark dryly that they’ve forgotten your face. But every so often, the universe smiles upon you and you get to spend an afternoon sitting on your narrow balcony with your oldest friend.
It always begins like this.
He drops a plastic bag full of fizzy drinks on the table that only he drinks, whilst you brew a pot of tea. There’s dessert in the fridge that you get to feed his sweet tooth, and he’ll consume both because you’ll claim you have no appetite. After a few perfunctory questions about your wellbeing - the same as always, nothing’s changed, he’ll turn his mind to the sole focus in his life.
“You gave the latest tech to my brother?!” he yells, outraged. “His main weapon isn’t even a blade.”
“Orders are orders”, you respond. “Besides, didn’t I just tweak your katanas last month?”
“About that”, he grins at you, somewhat sheepishly. “I’ve got more ideas -”
“Not again”, you groan.
He’ll rattle off a long list of things he wants you to work on next month. Blades made out of some kaiju bone, just to test its mettle. A blade to be worked into his boots - an idea he cheekily admits stems from some stupid shounen manga he reads in his spare time. So many of his ideas belong in the trash bin, but you entertain him anyway, studiously jotting down each of his requests.
“You’re lucky I put up with you”, you tell him.
Lazily, he flops onto the floor, rolling to lie his head in your lap. “As if you wouldn’t”, he laughs, poking up at your cheek.
You don’t get the chance to answer him. His phone goes off, as it always does, and he has to go.
“Seeya next time”, he waves, without leaving you another glance. The sliver of sky between the buildings surrounding yours is dark when you get up from your seat to clear the cups.
Your cheek still stings.
Your family always had close ties to the Hoshina clan. The clan of swordsmiths sworn to the Hoshina clan of swordsmen. A tie that can be traced centuries back to the Edo period to today. Your father crafted his father’s blades in the fires of your family’s forge, yet another in your family’s lineage who were born to serve the generations of Hoshina swordsmen.
Even though you were born a girl, you never accepted that it should be different for you.
You were only seven when you accompanied your father on a delivery to the Hoshina estate. Your stockinged feet echo in the wooden corridors that stretch out before you, seemingly without end. There are portraits of imposing swordsmen in every other room, blades displayed, their former owners’ eventual fate captioned beneath. You are too ashamed to admit that you’re afraid of one such painting with kaiju-like yellow eyes that seems to glare at you that you bolt when your father leaves you aside to talk business with the Hoshina patriarch.
Foolishly, you forget that the Hoshina estate dwarfs your family home. After the fifth rock garden you come across (which admittedly to your seven year old self, seems to blend into each other), you are well and truly lost, so you sit on the porch of some courtyard and wait to be found for a stern reprimand by your father.
Clang.
But you’re drawn by the sound of steel clashing, so you follow your ears, and your eyes thank you as you watch two boys spar with dull blades.
The older, with silver hair, has a clear edge. He’s taller and stronger, so he bullies his younger opponent into a corner. The younger, with dark hair, doesn’t seem daunted, standing his ground with precise swings and savage slashes that his older opponent only manages to parry with difficulty.
Though you hide yourself behind a pillar, the older boy spots you anyway, breaking off the fight to grab you by the front of your top.
“Intruder”, he shouts, waving his blade at you.
“I’m - I’m sorry!” you squeak. You panic, fearful that he’ll throw you out of the estate, because if you can’t even figure your way out around the compound, there’s no way you’re going to find your way back home across half of Osaka, so you hiccup and cry and beg to be let go -
“Hey! You’re just looking for an excuse to get out of a losing fight.”
Courage has never been your strong suit. It’s easier for you to hide behind your father or older brother’s legs, so you’re taken aback by how quickly the younger boy jumps into the fray on your behalf, defiant even in the face of a larger opponent.
Your captor’s nostrils flare. “What did you say?!” he demands, but he lets you go with a sneer.
“Another round then”, the younger boy says, as he tugs you to your feet, brushing the dust off the pretty kimono your mother took the effort to dress you up in. “Maybe this time you’ll actually be serious -”
His brother brandishes the blade at him. “I’ll beat you to a pulp, you insolent brat.”
You spend the afternoon watching them from a safe distance until your father finds you, apologising to Hoshina-sama for his wayward daughter.
You’re formally introduced then to the brothers - Sochiro the elder, who doesn’t even acknowledge you with a nod, and Soshiro the younger, who smiles like the sun when you tell him that he’s amazing in a fight.
“I’ll show you more next time!!”, Soshiro says. His eyes remind you of violets blooming in spring.
Your mother hears of your adventures in the Hoshina estate.
She comes to brush your hair after your bath. “The Hoshina family sees ours as a vassal clan”, she states baldly, as the comb sticks on a particularly tricky tangle. At your noise of confusion (and pain, because she’s none-too-gentle at getting the snags out of your mane), she explains. “That means our family is bound to them by our usefulness in making katanas, the instruments of their success.”
She clucks her tongue at your obtuseness, as you stare at her, uncomprehending. “We supply swords, not brides to them. There are no engagements between their sons and our daughters. If you wish to associate with the Hoshina boys, you must be of use to them.”
Perhaps, in her ungentle way, your mother was trying to do you a kindness.
But you took her warning as instruction instead. So, though you’ve always been afraid of the loud forge your father and older brother work in, you badgered your father for enough lessons in sword making, hovering over him every minute you have out of school so you can learn everything you can.
It’s worth it, when Soshiro comments on the shiny scars on your forearms the next time you visit.
“I’ve been learning how to make katanas”, you explain, suddenly shy.
“Wow!” you catch another glimpse of violets through wide eyes. “You must’ve worked really hard!”
You peek at the blooms of bruises on his shins, the angry red scratch across his face. “So have you”, you reply.
He beams, dragging you off to play.
More often than not, that devolves into him showing off his latest moves, and you applauding his every action. He revels in the attention, which you find strange because surely everyone with eyes should be able to discern that Hoshina Soshiro is wildly talented, even at the tender age of eight, but then whenever his brother surfaces with taunt regarding Soshiro’s swordsmanship, you can see the chip of his shoulder grow, an invisible burden that drags him into the ground.
As an outsider, it’s not your place to comment on the unfairness of being knocked around by a boy five years his senior, so you try your clumsy best to bandage Soshiro’s wounds and slip in an encouraging word or two. You never want to see the violets in his eyes wither and die.
“I’ll make you the best blade in the world when we grow up”, you bump your elbow against his. “So you can beat him.”
“Promise?”
You loop your little finger around his. Half moons brighten into stars.
// how abt a blade that can separate into 2 //
// or or or //
// maybe three?! //
// would your ancestors roll in their grave //
You wake up to a text. Or three.
<Gremlin>. You text back. <Soshiro-kun, go to sleep.>
// you wound me //
// seeya later //
// visiting Izumo tech for my new suit!!! //
// make sure you lend me your lunch discount at the cafeteria //
You snort.
<Cheapskate>. The rhythm of your conversation thrums. <are you asking me to have lunch with you>
// someone needs to keep me safe from my fangirls //
// don’t leave me in their clutches //
An eye roll.
< Die >. You turn your phone facedown, resolutely refusing to respond.
Despite your complaints, you end up eating lunch with him anyway.
It’s difficult to concentrate on your meal when your childhood friend turned the most eligible bachelor in the Japan Defense Force sits across from you in a skintight uniform, your giggly co-workers sitting two rows down watching his every move. So you push your tray away and just watch him as he chatters away through a mouth full of food (something he’d never do back home because he’s been raised with manners befitting the second son of the esteemed Hoshina clan, but around you he seems to turn into a demented manchild), but you’ve always found it endearing how he’s his chaotic true self around you -
“New recruits are coming in next month so I don’t know when we’ll have time to catch up -”
“There’s nothing to catch up on when you keep text me in the middle of the night with your train of thoughts - “
“That’s all work related”, he says. “I want to know how you are doing.”
You’re not about to tell him that your parents have informed you that they’re tired of you mooning after a man who’ll never love you back, and have started haranguing you via text to get your ass back to Osaka so you can meet suitable men your age who’d be willing to accept an unladylike wife with burn scars trailing up her forearms.
“As if you really want to know”, you grumble. “You’re only interested in talking to me when it’s about your weapons and tech.”
“You wound me”, he dramatically claps his hand to his chest, miming hurt. “You don’t believe that I care about my oldest friend?”
“Nope.”
“Rude”, he sing-songs. “C’mon.”
“The only reason we’re even lunching is because you wanted more upgrades - plus, now you want a shield against your fan-girls, who, by the way, are going to mob me in the bathroom and make me recount for the thousandth time, why and how I know you, the - I quote - cutest guy in the Japanese Defense Force, though they really should get their eyesight checked out in my opinion -”
“Oohhhh - people think I’m good-looking?” He runs his fingers through his hair like he’s in some 80’s shampoo commercial, throwing an exaggerated wink over his shoulder to the nearest fangirl. You hear a thump on the floor. You hope she didn’t hit her head too hard (but perhaps it might make her sole brain cell work a little better if she did).
You tap his knuckles with the back of your chopsticks. “Get that ego on a leash.”
His grin is cheeky. “I can’t help it if people think I’m good-looking.” Your heavy sigh makes him pout. “You don’t think I’m good looking?”
The lunch bell comes to your rescue.
“I have to get back to work”, you tell him, all too ready to make your escape.
“So do I”, he gobbles down the rest of his lunch. “Seeya around.”
“Stay safe”, you add. “Don’t let a Kaiju eat you up.”
“Eat me up?!” he squawks with mock outrage. “Don’t you know I eat Kaijus for breakfast?”
As if you don’t. In Tokyo, the third division is exceedingly popular. Captain Mina Ashiro of course, takes up most of the attention with her long, dark hair and prowess as the nation’s foremost sniper, but once in a while, the newspapers and magazines run features of Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro, and you dutifully keep cuttings in a scrapbook that you hide under your bed.
In every interview, he talks about how it’s patently untrue that there’s no space in the Japan Defense Force for those who prefer to wield a blade rather than a modern gun. “Captain Ashiro believes in me”, he says, so seriously that it’s hard to recognise your usual jovial friend. “For that, I’ll be thankful for every day.”
He said the same thing to you the day of his promotion.
“She believes in me when no one else did”, he tells you in disbelief.
That’s a lie, you want to shout. You reminded him that there’s a snowball’s chance in hell that he’d fail the entrance exam into the Japan Defense Force, and he’d indeed pass with flying colours. You calculated his unleashed combat potential from your lab in Izumo Tech, saw him exceed and excel so much so that an exception was made for him to carry katanas which you spent sleepless nights crafting for him. He won his first promotion as platoon leader nary a year in after a stunning victory decapitating yonju across Tokyo, and your congratulatory text to him was ‘See, I knew you’d do it.’
So no, Mina Ashiro was not the first person who believed in Hoshina Soshiro. You are.
Unless, in his eyes, you don’t count.
<okaa-san>
<Yes, I’ll be glad to meet your friend’s son>
< No promises on anything more>
The date your parents arranged for you is a man with a pleasing smile who has as much romantic interest in you as you in him - which is to say, very little at all. “I’m too busy with my job, but my mother insisted”, he confesses.
You like him all the better for his honesty. “So did mine”, you respond with a wry chuckle.
Yamamoto-san is good company, nonetheless, even if his only interest in life other than his demanding job as a corporate slave is tending to his houseplants, so since you both share an interest in getting your overbearing mothers off your backs, you agree to have lunch once a month just so you can say to your parents without lying that you’re seeing someone.
A part of you that you tuck deep into your chest hopes that word gets around to Soshiro, who’ll come beat your front door down, demanding that you, instead, turn your eyes to him (as if you’ve ever looked elsewhere for as long as you’ve known him). And when Hoshina Sochiro, Captain of the Sixth Division, pops into your office for his own tweaks to his tech and rounds upon you with a wicked twinkle in his eye, you’re sure that whatever you share will be conveyed as salaciously as possible to his younger brother.
“Soooo”, he drags each word out obnoxiously. “Your older brother mentioned that you’re seeing someone now who isn’t my younger brother.”
You smile blandly. “Soshiro-kun and I have always been just friends.”
“Just friends my arse”, he retorts. “You’ve had a planet sized crush on him since you were seven. It just can’t be helped that my brother’s got a katana up his arse.”
You try your best not to wince. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Captain Hoshina?” you gesture at the door. “As you can see, the mountain of work that’s been piling up ever since you stopped by my office needs to be done, and I really don’t have time to sit around and gossip like old women.”
“So grumpy”, he hops off your desk. “So, should I tell him that he’s missed the boat?”
“Tell him whatever you want.” You begin to type furiously on your laptop. “As if he’ll care.”
Five minutes later.
// u have a bf?! //
// and i had to find out fr Sochiro?! //
// AND u said there’s nothing to catch up on? //
You lock your phone in the drawer beneath your desk.
// are u ignoring me???? //
“You ignored my texts!”
This is a first. Hoshina Soshiro, cranky even when a stack of golden brown pancakes soaked in maple syrup wobbles enticingly in front of him. “I was busy at work”, you say. A flimsy excuse, one that fails to placate him as he continues to pout, childlike at you.
“So?” he demands, slicing right through the pancakes with his butter knife. “Is it true?”
“Is what true?”
His eyes narrow as he waves his knife accusingly at you. “You decided to tell Sochiro that you got a boyfriend before me?”
You take a sip of coffee to steady your nerves. “You know I don’t talk to your brother unless he decides to invade my lab. But I guess he and my brother still text from time to time.”
“Hrm.” he puffs out his cheeks, blows out a breath heavy enough to flutter his bangs. You restrain the urge to reach over and straighten his hair. “Fine.”
“I’m just seeing a guy that my parents set me up with.” You rehearsed exactly what you wanted to say, but your insides churn, the coffee you drank not doing you any favours. “I guess they’re just worried that no one will ever want me as I grow old and unmarriageable.”
His chuckle is blithe, uncaring. “Parents are all the same, aren’t they? Just last week, my mother called me to ask if I’m interested in being set up on a date with someone - as if I’d ever be interested, I barely have time to sleep, let alone date, and besides, she probably just called because my older brother’s a master at dodging such calls -”
You let him ramble on as you gather the remnants of your courage deep within your guts for a final advance.
“Soshiro.”
“Hm?” he looks up, mid-chew. “Sup.”
“If I really did get a boyfriend, you wouldn’t mind, would you?”
“Why would I mind?” He laughs, reaching over to prod at your cheek. “I mean, I guess as long as you don’t stop making me awesome katanas, and as long as he doesn’t mind that I text you my brilliant ideas on improvements -”
Unknowingly, he cuts right through your heart. But in fairness to him, you offered your heart on a silver fucking platter, even handed him the blade to stab it with.
“I was just worried you’d be unhappy”, you mumble, blinking back tears furiously.
Thankfully, he’s too focused on clearing his plate. “I thought you were going to ask me something serious”, he laughs. “What a silly question.”
“Yeah”, you manage to croak. “What a silly question.”
He goes on to fill the rest of the afternoon with chatter about his new recruits. You sit numbly and listen to his tales of a Shinomiya slip of a girl who blows all recorded numbers for a recruit out of the window, an old man who confounds his techs by registering a big fat zilch on their combat scales, but he entertains his candidacy because he’s a great source of entertainment.
“Indigestion”, you lie through gritted teeth. “Never you mind.”
“You shouldn’t take milk in your coffee if you’re lactose intolerant, silly”, he teases, confiscating your iced latte.
“I’m just an idiot”, you try your best to smile. Fortunately, he accepts a pained grimace.
Your mother was both right and wrong. You know that Soshiro cares for you as a friend, because he could never be callous enough to reduce you to your usefulness to him, but it’s true that he has no space in his heart for you.
A year or two ago, you piled yourself in a car with both Hoshina brothers to brave the Obon traffic to get back to Osaka for the holidays. You hadn’t been able to afford the jacked up prices for the shinkansen, and Soshiro only found out yesterday that Captain Ashiro took pity on him for missing consecutive New Year holidays that she gave him Obon off as a consolation price, so their parents nagged Sochiro into ferrying you both home.
“Shouldn’t you have your own car?” Sochiro groused.
“Why would I need a car if I’m on base 24/7”, Soshiro replied. “Why do you need a car? Unless the sixth division is slacking off -”
The car screeched to a halt. Sochiro kicked open the door, yanked Soshiro by his collar and shoved him into the driver’s seat. “To keep your smart mouth occupied, you can drive us the rest of the way to Osaka.”
“Aren’t you scared I’ll crash?”
“If you do, I’ll skin you alive.”
Your forehead nearly split open from all the bickering. “Guys, I can drive -”
“No!” Both brothers yelled at you in unison. It’s the first time they’ve probably agreed on anything in their life.
The bickering finally ended when Sochiro fell asleep in the back, head pillowed against the window glass on one side in a way that he’s bound to wake up with a neckache. Still, you’re forced in close proximity to Soshiro, the puffs of warm air from the overworking air-conditioner blending with the scent of steel and citrus, from the shampoo he probably uses, you mused half dizzy, head heavy -
“If you puke in the car, Sochiro’ll make you lick it up.”
You squeezed your eyes shut. “Talk to me so I don’t focus on your terrible driving.”
By the time Soshiro’s done with his recounting of the last four fights he’s been involved in, the massive disappointment of this year’s recruitment exercise and his admiration for Captain Mina Ashiro (which made you want to scream, kick your foot through the windshield, perhaps), the afternoon sun is low to the ground, streetlights along the expressway flickering on.
You couldn’t help but ask. “Do you ever think about anything other than your job?”
“Nah.” he chuckled. “I don’t have time for anything else. I gotta spend time to train y’know, otherwise I’ll really die on the job.”
“Soshiro!”
“That’s why I got good life insurance”, he deadpanned.
“I guess that was a silly question”, you slump back in your seat.
“It really is”, he teased. “So, what else d’you wanna hear about my all consuming job?”
The memory stings your eyes.
You make up an excuse to return to your apartment without haste, waiting until he disappears around the corner before you give in to the tears that you’ve been keeping at bay all afternoon. Strangers on the train ride home give you a wide berth, because they certainly don’t want to catch whatever malady you’re clearly suffering from with your swollen eyes and hiccuped sniffles. You stumble into your shoebox apartment, kick your shoes off at the genkan.
Tonight you’ll give yourself the grace to mourn the death of a dream.
You crack open the beers he previously brought, one after another. Drunk, you sit on the balcony, the half-moon reminding you too much of a certain vice captain. You let your mother’s words flood your mind. You are meant to offer him blades, not a bride. In another lifetime, in every lifetime, perhaps, the noble born son of a samurai clan would never open his heart to the lowly daughter of a swordsmith. He would be raised to always put duty before love.
You don’t know why you hoped for anything different.
So when you roll off your sofa in the morning, you glare at yourself in the toilet mirror, eyes rimmed red, a hangover in full effect.
“You are an idiot.” you slap your cheeks so hard it turns pink.
You will not allow this to continue. Hoshina Soshiro is not yours, has never been yours, and will never be yours. You are pathetic for hoping otherwise, stupid for living in hopes that he’ll look at you some day, an utter idiot for letting every choice you’ve ever made in your life be guided by your infatuation with a boy who doesn’t have space in his heart for you.
You could’ve been like your older brother, been content with sticking to the family business of sword making instead spending every spare minute on your engineering studies so you’re well positioned to be snapped up by Izumo Tech as a weapons specialist. You had the leeway to be based in Osaka near your family, but accepted a position in Tokyo just to be closer to where Soshiro’s based. You could’ve had a social life, perhaps even friends outside of work, if you’ve not dedicated your life to your job, working after hours tirelessly, just so you secure promotion after promotion, cementing yourself as Izumo Tech (and by extension, the Defense Force) go-to for anything blade related, just so you fulfil the promise you made to Soshiro all those years ago.
You cannot live the rest of your life this way.
a/n: so...i know i've only ever written for the hq boys but the way hoshina soshiro grabbed my throat in a chokehold in that gym training scene just forced my gremlin brain to start typing and get to work on this story for him.
One could argue that Sakura should be used to acceptance and kindness and friendship since he’s been in Makochi for a few years now. But Sakura would argue back that he doesn’t think he’ll ever get entirely used to it.
And he sure as hell won’t ever get used to the weird, yet…pleasant, fuzzy feeling you make wash over him anytime he simply thinks about you or hears your name— the feeling that only gets worse when you’re actually in front of him (that has made him look like a bumbling idiot on multiple occasions).
What’s usually a warm fuzziness turns into a buzzing boiling inferno when you get hurt. A blinding screen of red as he absolutely pummeled a guy into the concrete for daring to lay a finger on you— for daring to make you bleed.
So Sakura made the slimy loser bleed ten fold, completely controlled by his anger until a single word had him coming back. To you.
“Haruka.”
Mismatched eyes snapped to yours, his body moving involuntarily until he was on his knees by your side, checking you over. The sight of red trickling down your temple almost makes him angry again until Sakura catches the smile on your face. “Wh…what’re you smiling for? Don’t tell me your dumbass is concussed…”
Your smile only got bigger as you brushed away hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. “I told you.”
“Huh?! Told me what?! A-and don’t touch me!”
“Told you I’d be the closest one to your heart.”
Sakura huffed, arms crossed as he (very reluctantly and red faced) let you patch him up. He was insistent on not needing anyone to care for him, but he couldn’t stop thinking that it was…nice. And you…
“I’m gonna be the one who’s closest to your heart Haruka Sakura. Just watch.” you whispered, like a secret promise.
His eyes widened, recognizing the words you’d spoken all those years ago, only a few months after he’d arrived in town. That day, hearing it had made him shout out flustered denials and grievances, face flaming red as he waved you off with a ‘yeah, right!’.
Now, though…while his face was very much matching the color of the blood staining both of you, he couldn’t help but let out a disbelieving laugh. “Yeah…you did..”
TIMELESS! ❤︎ — Umemiya Hajime x f!reader ﾉ Sfw ﾉ Established relationship ﾉ Submission for @17020’s ORQUÍDEAS event ^ ^ ﾉ 1.3K
IGUAL QUE UN ÁNGEL — To love is to adore, to be vulnerable, and devoted. To him, you're just like an angel, loving him purely and unconditionally. He's eternally grateful for your presence, making him feel as if he's God's favorite.
Summary: Umemiya just wants to surprise you with origami flowers.
“What are you doing?” Kotoha peers over at Umemiya from behind the counter, broom in one hand and the other resting lightly on her hip.
It didn’t take her very long to take note of the pile of crumpled paper surrounding him slowly accumulating throughout the night, but he doesn’t seem to pay it any mind even when the fan blows a couple sheets onto his lap.
Umemiya’s still hunched over the counter, calloused fingers working to diligently fold the tiny sliver of paper back onto itself as he hums a gentle tune. “..Ah!” He finally takes notice of her after she’s moved directly in front of him, “I’m trying to make a flower.”
Her first thought is to question why he’s chosen to do origami at Pothos fifteen minutes before closing, but she closes her mouth as soon as her eyes catch onto the redness of his fingers. If he wasn’t so focused, she’s sure he would feel the sting in an instant.
Although he doesn’t seem to care very much about that right now.
“You should take breaks too, you know,” she leans over the counter with a heavy sigh. “Need some help?”
His eyebrows raise a bit at the offer, and he’s quick to start nodding only a second after. “I want to surprise her,” his eyes visibly soften at the thought, “but I’m not sure how to make them look better.”
“Give it to me.”
She doesn’t bother trying to hide the smile that starts to tug at her lips when he reaches forward to drop a new piece of paper into her hand. His fingers are shaky, swollen red at the tips and she wonders how he’s even able to control them so well in such a state.
He’s really fallen hard for you.
“Don’t worry. Watch me,” she says through a grin, “it’s easy once you get the hang of it.”
“Is it?”
He’s practically bouncing in his seat, watching closely as she tucks a stray bit of hair behind her ear before she’s slowly moving to fold the paper, his eyebrows furrowed as he tries his best to commit the process to memory. “Be gentle when you shape the petals. Like this… and that’s it. See? It’s not so bad.”
“That’s no fair. You made it look so easy.”
Kotoha lets out a gentle sigh before glancing at her broom again. Usually she’d be finishing up by now…
“Wait— don’t leave yet. Watch me make the next one…please?”
She doesn’t have it in her to make him leave. “..Fine.”
Umemiya takes in a sharp inhale before he’s shakily taking another piece in his hands, cheek puffing out as he tries to replicate Kotoha’s flower. He just wants to make it pretty for you. Making you a paper bouquet wasn’t just some random idea that popped into his mind one day. He had been thinking about how to make you smile a little harder for a couple days now, and this seemed perfect.
He just hopes he can do it right for you.
It’s been almost one year since he’s picked up this routine of giving you a flower every time he sees you. They’re never the same either. On some days, he gives you one singular flower that he thought looked prettier than the others. On another day, he decides to give you a full bouquet that’s decorated with ribbons and bows.
The smile you always give him in response never gets old no matter how many times he sees it. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get entirely used to it either. There’s really only one issue, and it’s the fact that he absolutely hates to see your precious smile falter when you remember that flowers can’t live for eternity.
Every part of him wishes he had the power to change that for you.
“Haji..” your voice sounds beautiful even when it’s just a memory playing out in his head, “I’m a little sad. One of the petals fell off today— and I’m taking really good care of it too. I just wish the flowers you give me could last forever, you know?”
Maybe his paper flowers could make you smile for just a little longer. Even if it was only one second longer— he’s sure it would be worth it.
“Like this?” Umemiya raises his flower up, the paper wrinkled and crooked from making a couple wrong folds, but the shape looks almost identical to the one she made. “Mhm,” Kotoha smiles at him, “you got it.”
He loses track of how much longer he spends at Pothos after that. Time seems to fly by as soon when he starts to get better at folding, and at some point- he forgets the concept of time entirely. It’s so natural for him to get lost in the moment once he starts thinking of you again.
He thinks about what you might be doing right now. He wonders how you’ll react to his bouquet, and his face breaks out into a deep blush when the thought of you missing him comes to mind.
Kotoha doesn’t think she’s seen him this happy in a long time.
The scratches on his fingers don’t sting anymore when he finally gets to see his hard work pay off. It’s early in the morning— the first rays of sunlight illuminating your face perfectly, and you really look like an angel standing in front of him.
Your face lights up as soon as he offers it to you, his fingers brushing against your own when you bring your hands together to gingerly cup the gift. You hold it like it’s made of glass. You always hold him like he’s made of glass too.
“Haji… this is for me?” He feels his heart skip a beat when he hears his name roll off your tongue, and it starts beating a little faster once you glance at him again. He never really got used to your gaze either. “You made these?”
You bring them closer to your face to inspect each petal, and he can’t hide the sheepish smile he gives you at the sound of your cheerful voice. “How pretty! They must have taken you a while, huh? So detailed.”
It takes you a little more time to finally notice the wrinkles on them, and then the realization finally hits you. “Wait.. this really must have taken you a while. Haji… let me see your hands.”
He tenses.
“Ah, don’t worry about that!” Umemiya is quick to give you a dismissive wave of his hands, frantically moving them back and forth— but he freezes in place as soon as your fingers wrap around one of his wrists.
He falls completely silent when your brows furrow a bit, taking in the sight of bandages and scratches littering each and every one of his fingers. They look swollen too.
“The bandages make them look a little worse… doesn’t it? I know. But don’t you worry! I can’t feel a thing. Not one thing-”
He forgets how the concept of time works again the second he feels your lips ghost along his fingertips. It’s gentle. You’re always this gentle with him, and he starts to think the world might be treating him a little too kindly. What good deed did he do to warrant someone like you falling for him?
You kiss each finger. Slowly.
His cheeks heat up more at this, and he’s suddenly aware of just how loud his heart sounds when it pounds against his chest like this. He doesn’t even realize that his mouth has fallen open into a surprised ‘o’ until you start laughing at him. Your laugh is soft too.
“Thank you, Haji. I love you.” You smile at him, and he swears for the thousandth time that day that he’d rather die than fail to protect that angelic smile he’s fallen so hard for.
hoshina soshiro is very she-fell-first-but-he-fell-harder trope coded.
i think we can reach a consensus here that hoshina is not difficult to like and in this case, to romantically have feelings for - one way or the other i think the officers of the third division harbor some form of admiration for the guy. and you are no exception.
but hoshina did not get recruited as a defense officer to fall in love. he doesn't mind that people develop a crush on him, but when he started noticing you being a bit weird and awkward around him, he gets slightly annoyed. he's the vice-captain and he needs all of his subordinates to be thinking straight around him. he cannot deny you are one of, if not the best, in your batch - you can even get promoted to platoon leader if you want to. hoshina doesn't want your potential to be dampened by your infatuation, so he tells you to stop feeling whatever feeling you have towards him. "is that an order from my vice-captain?" you asked. he gave a one-word reply to you in a firm tone, "yes, it is".
he drove himself crazy the next days and weeks because you did not only follow his instruction, you also went above and beyond by completely avoiding him like he carries the plague. this says a lot considering it's hard to hide from a man who leads the training sessions you are supposed to attend. time passed, and he learned to miss your presence - he started to reminisce about how different it is when you were a constant inclusion in his everyday life, and how dull things are for him now that you have effectively ghosted him.
but you weren't really gone - you are a third division defense officer so you are still beholden to your sworn duties and obligations to protect your country from kaiju threats. but in an attempt to neutralise a kaiju one time, you have hurt yourself - injured to the point that even vice-captain hoshina soshiro himself got scared he was going to lose you.
"don't get attached to any of your teammates," is something he would tell the new recruits during their initiation as members of the division. hoshina soshiro wished he could have listened to himself.
when you regained your consciousness at the hospital, hoshina was the first person you laid your eyes on. he's fallen asleep while sitting uncomfortably in a chair beside your bed, his hand holding yours, your fingers intertwined with his.
pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, ran, sanzu ]
warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, ANGST w/ comfort (mostly in mikey's), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be A LOT of errors :// mikey's is LONG, ran + sanzu's are silly goofy, mikey + sanzu's are a lil unhinged lol and i think that’s it :))
notes: can i just say thank y'all so much for showing "accidents happen" the love that i didn't think it would get, it was made on a whim so i'm so so so happy y'all enjoyed! i tagged as many as i could (or that tumblr would allow) sorry if i missed some of you :( thank you for your patience and let me know how you feel about this continuation format :) !!
notes ii: also also, pt. 2 for "accidents happen" coming soon!
notes iii: MY COMPUTER CRASHED AND I THOUGHT I LOST EVERYTHING BUT IT'S OKAY IT'S OKAY :'))))
Ever since you picked up your daughter, there’s been a hovering presence that wouldn’t go away no matter where you went. From the park, to the grocery store, all the way home it clung to you like a bad itch. Despite looking over your shoulder and being met without any sort of threat, that didn’t stop the uneasy feeling. And it only intensified when you received a knock on your front door.
You made a confused hum, checking the time on the microwave to confirm that it was indeed past the reasonable hour for potential visitors. Not to mention, you weren’t expecting anyone.
The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, instincts telling you that something wasn’t right, that your best option was to pretend you weren’t home. However, the person on the other side knew otherwise as they knocked on the door again, this time with more fervor. You inhaled sharply, taking hesitant steps towards the door until you were mere feet away from it. Eventually, you worked up the courage to look through the peephole, your brows furrowing in distress when all you could see was black—They were covering it. All the more reason not to open the door…
What if it’s a robber? Ridiculous, they don’t knock.
What if it’s just the neighbor? Why cover the peephole?
More and more did your mind swirl with endless possibilities, each one becoming less and less believable. Taking a long, deep breath, you doubled-checked the door-chain was on before slowly cracking it open. And as you attempted to peek through the sliver, nothing could’ve prepared you for the arm that forced its way through, startling you as you yelped, stumbling back as it made a grab at you.
Before you had the thought of shoving the door closed on the offender’s arm they grabbed the little chain, then yanked it clean out of the wall. To your terror, a dark hooded figure entered your home, head hung low, concealing their identity.
You began to hyperventilate, backing up to keep distance as they staggered further into your home before kicking the door closed behind them, effectively blocking you from the exit. Surely, someone heard your scream and would check in, or call the police. But, how long did you have before the intruder decided to make a move? Not to mention, your sleeping child just down the hall…
With that last thought in mind, you immediately steeled your nerves.
Even if you had to use your bare hands, you were going to do whatever it took to keep your baby out of harms way.
You reached for the closest weapon without taking your eyes off the figure, hands clasping onto a discarded umbrella that was leaned up against a closet door. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. Taking a defensive stance, you prepared for what you assumed to be the inevitable.
“I-I don’t know who you are, or what you want…b-but if you don’t leave…my..my boyfriend will be home any minute! H-He knows how to fight, and he’ll fuck you up if you try anything!”
Your means of intimation fall on deaf ears. It were as if you hadn’t spoken at all. They just…stood there. Watching you from the darkness. That feeling, that hovering presence you’d been weary about all evening…there was no doubt in your mind it was because of this individual. Suddenly, they gave a watery chuckle, hand coming up to rub the lower half of their face as the chilling noise dissipated into soft snickers.
You sweatdropped. “I mean it! He’ll be here real soon, so you better get out of here before-”
“[_____]…” the figure finally rasped, voice heavy with an emotion you couldn’t decipher in the moment. You froze, eyes widening.
“…How the hell do you know my name?”
Without much urgency, they stepped forward into the light. Beneath the warm glow, it took you mere seconds to recognize the person standing before you. You gasped, trembling hands dropping the umbrella, it landing with a harsh clatter. Soft, mortified hitches in your breath echoed through the small space, memories flashing before your eyes as you covered your gaping mouth.
“M.. Ma..” you whimpered, throat tightening. A shell of a man, who gazed upon you with stormy eyes flooded with tears at the mere sight of you.
He gave another strained laugh, muttering to himself as he soaked you all in. “Needed to know.. Needed to know it was really you…”
Mikey eyed you up, intensely, eerily silent as he did so. Then, he took in the surroundings, the warmth, the interior, the smell of dinner—It truly felt like a home. A bitter pill to swallow once he reminded himself that you built it without him.
His sharp gaze returned to your stunned expression. He sneered.
“Must’ve been easy for you. To forget me and move on, just like that. Like I was nothing.”
You blinked, taken aback. All you could do was remain speechless, cemented to the ground with thoughts and questions racing in your head. Now matter how many times you opened your mouth, no sound would come out aside from choked whimpers.
“Do you know…how long I’d been searching for you? Been mourning for you?” He hissed through clenched teeth. “When you left, I thought… I thought someone had taken you. That I lost you all because I was too stubborn to say I’m sorry…”
As he spoke, Mikey slowly closed the space between you. The more he came into the light, the more you could see how the years had treated him. His cheekbones were more pronounced, the dark circles under his eyes as well. His lips were dry, cracked, his fair skin now ghoulishly pale. If not for the black hoodie you would’ve mistaken him as such; ghost of your past.
Your shoulders shook, hands hovering over your face as you gaped in disbelief. He’d been looking for you?
That night, that stupid fight you could barely remember…he made it crystal clear that he wanted nothing to do with you. He pushed you away. Pushed so hard that you almost believed he really wouldn’t have cared if you dropped dead. You knew he didn’t mean it, knew it was just another dark impulse…but none of that mattered when all your pregnancy tests came back positive just hours prior.
That night, you made the decision for the sake of your daughter. And also, for his sake. At the time, you were certain he wasn’t ready to be a father. He was quick to rage, merciless, losing himself to the darkness you tried to protect him from. If you had stayed, you were certain Mikey would’ve never forgiven himself if he lost control in front of his own flesh and blood, if the child grew to resent him for something he struggled to control.
You thought you were doing him a favor…but it appears to have done the opposite.
“And this whole time…you’ve been here, alive. Playing fucking house with someone else.”
You stiffened. Someone else? Your visible confusion only irritated him further.
He scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. You said it yourself. Too bad he won’t be coming home anytime soon. I’ve already got Sanzu and the Haitanis looking around for the bastard. And when they find him, I’ll make him regret sticking his filthy dick inside you.”
Confusion morphed into realization. You did threaten him with said hypothetical boyfriend…But, that was before you knew it was him!
“Oh, Manjiro…” you whispered. He glared, scorned.
“Don’t you dare pity me. I mean, you got the family you always wanted, right? So who cares who it was with, right? Congratu-fucking-lations.”
You shook your head, exhaling deeply as you held your face in your hands. For years, he thought you dead. Then, when he received word of your appearance, he finds you with child. And not once did he consider that child to be his? It’s like…he couldn’t fathom the thought.
If only he had looked just a little bit closer, he would’ve seen that she had his eyes. How they resembled those pools of ink that used to shine with so much hope back in his youth, so playful and full of love…those same eyes that now gazed upon you with contempt.
It stung.
He thought so low, not only of himself, but of you as well.
Taking a deep breath to reel in your emotions, tears began to well up in your eyes. He assumed they were tears for your doomed lover, further breaking his heart as Mikey clenched his fists to the point of nearly drawing blood. Luckily, even though you struggled to find the right words, someone else happily found them for you.
“Papa..?”
Both of you instantly drew your attention on the toddler standing near the kitchen, one fist clutching her blanket while the other rubbed the sleep from her eye. You glanced at Mikey, and he was stiller than stone. His once dead-stare had morphed into what could only be described as incredulous. Surely, he heard her incorrectly…
With a sniffle, you crouched down to address her, offering a soft grin as you nodded earnestly. “That’s right, sweetheart. Papa’s finally come home.”
The little girl blinked sleepily, taking a second to reboot. But, as soon as the words registered, a bright smile stretched across her face as she excitedly rushed towards Mikey, throwing herself onto his legs and hugging them like a koala as she chirped, “Papa, home!”
Said man hobbled a bit at the force, arms windmilling as he caught himself to keep from falling backwards. He didn’t know what to do with himself, especially when those big, round pools of ink opened and stared right up into his soul. Mikey’s heart nearly stopped. With a hitch in his breath, the gangster did everything he could to hold his composure, looking between you and the child as you both gazed at him with so much warmth…it was suffocating.
Sensing he was overwhelmed, you reached down to scoop up the bubbly bundle, holding her close as you eyed Mikey, apprehensively.
He resembled a cornered animal—Muscles stiff, jaw tight, eyes wild. After a moment, Mikey began to slowly back away into the shadows of your home, conflicted, devastated. It wasn’t until his back hit the door did he eventually fall to his ass, of which caused your child to giggle at how silly he was being. However, all you could do was hold back tears, watching as the reality started to weigh down on a man who just discovered he was a father.
Nervous, you gently explained. “I didn’t leave you because of our spat, Jiro…and I never moved on. I just…thought that I’d be doing more harm than good sticking around when I found out I was pregnant…I didn’t want to add any more stress on your plate, so I…”
Mikey didn’t respond. He sat there, stare vast and unfocused. But, you knew he hung on to every word. So you continued. “I wanted to tell you. But…I wasn’t sure how. At the time, I believed you had stopped caring about me altogether. And to hear you’d been looking for me, I-I’m…I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you harbored all that guilt. I didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”
Your daughter wiggled around in your hold, making small grunts in complaint. Her eyes were trained on his figure huddled in the dark, wanting to be acknowledged, wanting his attention. “Papa!”
Mikey flinched. He focused his gaze on the two you, haloed by the light emitting from the living room. You both were like salvation, reaching down to a broken sinner…How could she want anything to do with him? When he had missed so much already…
To keep from accidentally dropping her, you placed your daughter back on the ground, watching wearily as she wobbled all the way to Mikey, blanket in tow. You weren’t worried about him hurting her, far from it…if anything, he appeared to be the fragile one.
Eventually, she made it to her destination, standing before him with a curious, but eager expression as she rested a hand on his knee. Mikey watched her, took in all of her features, every last detail as he engraved it to memory. She was beautiful, just like her mother. One would think his genes didn’t stand a chance. But the eyes. That was all him. From his mother to his older brother to himself, there was no doubt in his mind that those were Sano eyes.
His lower lip quivered, reaching out hesitantly to caress her cheek. She didn’t cower away, merely babbled as she began patting his knee, allowing his thumb to rub over her chubby cheek. You clasped your hands over your mouth, growing even more emotional at the delicate moment. Mikey looked enamored already, eyes subtly sparkling from what you could see as they interacted.
“I-I told her stories, about you. And I made sure to show her photos, too. Old ones, but still you nonetheless. I wanted her to know who her father truly was. Despite everything else…”
Your daughter cooed, then placed her blanket in Mikey’s lap before climbing into it. Mikey didn’t dare move, rigid as she made herself comfortable. He looked up at you, looking for guidance, for reassurance. Your encouraging smile was enough for him to hesitantly place his hands on her small back for support, carefully adjusting so that she was stable. She laid her head on his chest and stuck her thumb in her mouth, sighing contentedly.
And, for the first time in years, he smiled.
When you hadn’t seen her familiar pigtails bobbing around, or heard any of her excited chatter with the receptionist up front, worry couldn’t even begin to describe what you felt the moment you realize…your daughter wasn’t here.
As soon as the meeting looked like it was wrapping up, you politely excused yourself from the room. Masking your worry wasn't too difficult, but there's no doubt a couple people might've noticed the spring in your step as you exited. One of them being Rindou Haitani. He watched you speed down the hall with mild interest, corner of his mouth ticking up ever so slightly as he thumbed around on his phone beneath the table. Having been updating his older brother during the meeting while he was on his smoke break, he was more than eager to inform him of the storm that was no doubt heading his way.
Little did the younger Haitani know, he was already dealing with one.
"And then, Haruka-kun tries to take Momo-kun's bento box because she had cuter animal shapes, but Momo-kun already said no, and so Haruka-kun pushes Momo-kun, and then tries to take it! But I pushed him and hit him with my fist, like this," she clenched up her tiny fist and held it up to Ran before striking down on his forearm with all her might. It didn't even pitch. "Like that."
The lavender-eyed man merely gazed upon her with mirth. "Did you now?"
"Mmhm! And teacher got so mad, and said that she would tell Ma about me fighting, but she's stupid because Ma didn't pick me up today, and I told Haruka-kun if he snitches, I'll beat 'em up!"
Ran lowly whistled. "Quite the little menace, ain'tcha?"
She pumped her fists. "Yeah!" Then, she paused, holding a finger to her chin in thought. "Wait...what's a menace?"
"Ah, something you inherited from your old man." He ruffled her hair, much to her displeasure. Though her innocent jab earlier regarding his age still hit a sore spot, he was starting to like the sound of it. She, on the other hand, wasn't convinced.
"I already told you; Ma was on her happy juice when she said that. She said not to believe anything she says when she's on happy juice. It makes her do silly things."
Ran chuckled. He knew that all too well. The little girl wouldn't be in this world if not for your inability to hold your liquor. But judging based on how you've raised her so far, clearly you made the right decision keeping him in the dark.
He'll admit, he wasn't the best in terms of commitment. Throughout his day to day, Ran just didn't have the energy. With being in Bonten, keeping an eye out for his younger brother, handling business, dealing with numbskulls and disposing of their bodies, there was never a time to even consider settling down. One-night stands and on and off flings were the easiest choice. At least, until he stumbled upon you.
You were the whole package and more. Classy, independent, witty, and a looker to top it all off. When Bonten started collaborating with the organization you worked in, he couldn't help but to be drawn to you—Like a moth to a flame. It started out as the occasional bantering, trying to one-up the other, catch them off guard. Ran was smooth with his words but could never quite beat your sharp tongue. Thus, things escalated to something more flirtatious. Harmless, but it didn't take long before the months of tension between the both of you began boiling over...and throwing alcohol into the mix, it was the first time Ran finally felt like he had the upper hand. Seeing how poorly you handled just a few glasses of wine, it endeared him. Seeing a piece of you that no one else had the privilege to witness. Your sloppy side, the clumsy, whiny, touchy side. After that long, passionate night beneath the sheets, the one time you and Ran allowed yourselves the space to be vulnerable with one another...you found yourself pregnant. And Ran found himself being nonethewiser.
He wonders, if he hadn't left the next morning and completely ghosted you...would you have kept him in the picture?
Suddenly, his phone dings. Reaching back to pull it from his back pocket, Ran half expected it to just be another update on the meeting or Rindou cursing at him to hurry his ass back inside. But, it wasn't that at all. And at the sound of your kitten heels rushing out of the building and halting at the top of the steps, Ran didn't even need to look up to know who was glowering down from them.
"Hey, Ma! Guess what, the purple man isn't such a meanie after all!"
Ran snorted, finally looking up from his phone to greet the woman who not only still had his heart, but evidently his first child. You, on the other hand, weren't so thrilled to see him.
"Rika. Wait inside. Ma's got some words for the purple man."
He smirked. "Wanna say 'em over a glass of wine?"
"You son of a-!"
"Bad word!" Your daughter covered her ears. You flushed, your composure nearly slipping just by being in his prescence. Ran, immediately seeing the opportunity, teasingly pouts at you whilst covering her tiny hands with his larger ones, shielding her.
"Honey, please, not in front of the child. Can't have her repeating those dirty words at school, can we?"
You fumed, speaking through clenched teeth. "Haitani, as soon as I get her in this building, away from you, I swear to God, I'm gonna wring your neck."
He hummed, amused. "Well. Guess she didn't get her violent side from me after all. Speaking of which, did you know at school today-"
"Hey! No snitching!"
“...What did you say?”
You were hoping you heard the teacher wrong. Surely it was just your exhaustion taking the wheel. But, when her kind smile didn’t falter, nor did her gushes for the supposed “adorable display”, you immediately grew suspicious.
While heading home from work, you went to pick up your children from daycare. And when you arrived, the teacher merely informed you that it was already taken care of by your very handsome and very devoted husband.
“I-I think you’re mistaken. My boyfriend and I aren’t married…”
The teacher, finally coming back down to earth, tilted her head in confusion. “Eh? You aren’t?”
“Did he…say we were?”
“Well, no. I just assumed since it was easy to tell who he was here for. Hikaru and Kaoru look so much like their daddy.”
You choked on your spit.
Hikaru and Kaoru look so much like their daddy.
Hikaru and Kaoru look so much like their daddy.
You did everything in your power to keep from strangling the poor woman. Sure, she didn’t do anything wrong per say…but she sure did make a grave error. And your struggle to restrain your intrusive thoughts must’ve shown on your face from the way she placed a concerned hand on your arm. “Are you alright, miss? You look like you’re about to faint.”
“M-Mhm, yep, great, just peachy.” You squeaked through clenched teeth, sweatdrop on your forehead. “Could you um…confirm something for me?”
“Uh.? Er, sure. I’ll try my best.”
With tense shoulders and a tight smile, you asked, “Their…father…did his mouth have two scars in the corners?”
The teacher blinked, confused. Shouldn’t you already know that answer yourself?, she was probably thinking. And she would be right; you did know. But her simple, hesitant nod was the final nail in the coffin that was your delusion—Haruchiyo Sanzu had found you. And to make matters worse, he had the children.
Your smile faltered, twitching ever so slightly. Covering it with a forced chuckle, you cried, “Oh, that’s..wonderful! He’s always been self conscious about them, and I’m j-just.. beaming with joy that he’s embracing them more. Have a nice evening, Ms. Yuki.”
The teacher didn’t get a chance to respond as you quickly turned on your heel and began speed walking home. You’d apologize for your abrupt exit another day…right now there were more important matters to worry about. For instance—How on earth did Sanzu find you? How did he know about the twins and where they were? Oh, God…did he know about Satoru?
Dialing him up a few times only for the calls to go straight to voicemail weren’t reassuring in the slightest, having you rush across oncoming traffic just so you could avoid any further delays for your fraying nerves. You could see your apartment complex up ahead, heart thumping in your throat at the familiar, black SUV parked a couple blocks down. Had it not been for the heavily tinted windows and no license plates, you probably would’ve overlooked it. He knew where you lived. Stomach in knots, muscles stiff, nerves shot. You didn’t know whether to feel relieved or devastated. Your kids were safe at home, but at what cost? You stood in front of the building, rooted to the ground. Despite mentally preparing for this exact scenario for years, it all went down the drain the second you went to that daycare and discovered your children were missing.
It wasn’t until your phone vibrated did you snap out of your thoughts, shakily pulling the device out of your back pocket to check the notification.
from : unknown 1:06 pm
“ hi, mama.~ ”
Your stomach twisted. Attached to the message were two photos.
The first photo was of your kids eating McDonald's in the kitchen, happily cheesing and waving at the camera. You couldn't hold your choked gasp, hand coming up to hold your quivering lower lip—They were safe.
The second photo...was of Satoru. Tied to a chair, gagged, and beaten senseless. And standing behind him, holding him by his hair so that he could pose for the camera, grinning like a cheshire cat...
Another message pops up. Your grip tightened around your phone.
synopsis: in which they discover you had their child and kept it from them all these years later.
pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, ran, sanzu ]
warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, angst (if you squint really hard), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be errors lol and i think that’s it :))
notes: i just want the drama >:) may make more parts, and even extend said headcannons into longer fics in the future, but wanted to post something quick for mother’s day. hope you enjoy!
When you disappeared off the face of the earth, MIKEY had never been the same. One fight. One argument that spiraled out of control, and you were just gone...
He had people looking for you for about a couple years, the trail ran cold after a while and he had half a mind to think you were dead. Up until he got intel of your whereabouts one morning during a meeting.
That man got up and left immediately.
He wasn’t accompanied with any of his men, only because he didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention in the broad daylight. Sure, him wearing a black hood, ball cap, and mask in a park didn’t really help him look inconspicuous but it at least concealed his identity enough for him to blend in. Mikey sat on a bench for a good forty minutes, anxious, making anyone who passed him shiver from his intense aura alone; even birds walked around him. After almost an hour of waiting, he began to feel frustrated. Perhaps, the intel was false. Just as he went to stand, already conjuring up ways to have Sanzu execute the idiot who wasted his time, he heard it.
Your voice. Seizing him, like a siren’s call.
His eyes were alert, darting around until they landed on your figure, spotlighted by the sun, like an angel descending from the heavens. You looked good, healthy. That was good. An array of emotions fought for their turn in Mikey’s heart—Relief, distress, anger, nostalgia. He couldn’t just pick one, especially when it came to you. As he watched from his spot, doing his best to not seem suspicious, he clocked the people you were approaching with excitement, your peppy stride as you waved at, what he presumed, to be mother and daughter.
However, his entire world turned upside down when the little girl extended out her arms towards you, and said “Mama!”
“Hello, my darling.~” You cooed, taking her into your awaiting arms from the woman, embracing the toddler tightly. “Mama missed you so much.”
“Missed you, mama!” was the child’s reply, followed by her giggles.
A bucket of cold water would’ve been better than this. Watching you converse with who he now assumes to be the babysitter, Mikey felt faint. Vision blurring, head pounding, heart clenching. You…you…no. There’s no way. You wouldn’t have moved on…you couldn’t have, not like this, not from him. You loved him, didn’t you? You still love him, didn’t you?
How could you…how could you?
Before he knew it, he started to follow you around. From the park, to the store, all the way back to your apartment. He already phoned some of the executives to start working in on the babysitter, and anyone else in your new found circle for information. He wanted answers. He needed them.
By the time you began fixing dinner, with your daughter laid down for a nap, you receive a knock at your door. Who could that be at this hour?
RAN was chilling outside the rendezvous spot for something the boss and a few other execs were participating in, having a smoke, minding his business, up until he sees a little girl with pigtails wearing a school uniform approaching, standing before him and just…staring. She barely came up to his thighs, could've been no older than seven. She was practically staring into his soul with bright lavender eyes that scarily reminded him of Rin’s when he was that age.
He stared back, head tilted as he blew out the smoke from the corner of his mouth. The hell was a kid doing on this side of town?
Then, after an uncomfortable staring contest, the little girl points at his cigarette. “My ma says those things are bad for you.”
Ran raised a brow, “Does she now?”
“Mmhm! She says it makes people unhappy.”
He offered a thoughtful nod, an amused grin spreading across his face. “Mm. Do I look unhappy?”
The girl looked at Ran for a minute, eyes squinted. Eventually, she shook her head. “No. But, ma also says people who are always unhappy get better at hiding it.”
Ran’s grin faltered. Her unwavering stare started to unnerve him, especially after hearing such a heavy statement come from such a small package.
After a brief moment of silence, he chuckled softly, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it away. He exhaled. “Smart woman.”
The little girl beamed, “Mmhm! My ma knows a lot of stuff.”
“Tsk. But not ‘Stranger Danger’, apparently.”
She tilted her head, curious. “Huh?”
“You shouldn’t be wandering around by yourself, let alone approaching someone you don’t know. ‘s not safe. Especially for nosy little girls who stick their noses in other people’s business. Your ma never taught you that?”
The little girl rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. “Duh. Of course she did. Everyone knows that rule,” she exasperated. Ran snorted, but yielded when she squinted at him, pointing as she sassed. “And I do so know you, so you’re not a stranger.”
This time, Ran couldn’t help the incredulous laugh. “Oh, you know me, huh? That’s not good. ‘m supposed to keep a low profile. Say, you ain’t a cop are you?” He teased, earning another eye roll.
“No. Too small to be a cop, dummy.”
“Oh, pardon me, I didn’t notice. Where do you know me from, then?”
The little girl pointed over to the building..where the executives were having their meeting. She beamed, “Ma’s works in there. On important people days she can’t get me from school, so she tells me to come straight here, and to not talk to the purple man that stands near the building. She says you’re mean.”
Ran smirked, then gave a half-hearted shrug.
“She also says you’re my pa. But, I never believed her. You’re too old.”
Ran’s smirk dropped.
Whether more from the first comment or the last, you decide. But, one thing was for certain: he needed another cigarette.
SANZU cackled watching some guy struggle to round up a couple of rowdy twins at the convenience store. One was knocking shit off the shelves while the other ran circles around the guy. It was what he needed for his bitch of a hangover, a good laugh to distract from the ache in his skull.
However, he wasn’t laughing for long when you came around the corner of the isle, holding a few items with a smile on your face that soon faded once you saw the scene unfolding before you; the pinkette thought he was still tripping balls. Blinking a few times to allow any after effects of the drugs to clear up, when you didn’t disappear he used his long legs to swiftly yeet behind one of the shelves, peering around it like some paranoid stalker. The last time you had spoken, you had threatened to castrate him with your teeth if you ever saw him again.
And he’d be damned if he tried your bluff.
He watched in awe as you straightened those twins up quick. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought they were trained to obey you, and only you. Any other authority be damned. While the guy was putting all the stuff back on the shelves, sweaty and out of breath, you gently reprimanded them for causing trouble. You still made that cute pouty face you always did whenever you were mad at him…
“What did we talk about earlier? Hm? Mr. Satoru was very kind to help mama today, you know. You two promised me you’d be on your best behavior for him.”
Sanzu gagged. This was the rebound you let nut in you? This huffy moron who can’t handle a couple of ankle biters, this was your king? He had half a mind to just gut the guy to put him out of his misery from that pathetic display from earlier, alone. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be back home. He remembers when he was that age—Rowdy, reckless, the Antichrist. Adorable, but deadly. God bless that poor bastard’s soul.
Wait…Mister? Not…dad?
The first twin whined, stomping their feet. “He’s too boringggg!”
Come to think of it…if Sanzu squinted…the longer he looked at the little family…he swore the more he saw the resemblance of himself in the tiny gremlins. From the hair, to the eyes, all the way down to the mannerisms…Hang on. When had been the last time you two fucked? Three…no, was it four years ago?
The second twin huffed, pointing at the man. “Yeah! And he’s jus’ being nice so that he can sleep in your bed, mama!”
You flushed, nervously chuckling as you looked around to make sure no one heard. Sanzu ducked behind a bag of chips, now nothing but eyes peeking through the gaps of food on the shelf.
So…that loser’s not the father? Then…could that mean..?
“He’s mama’s boyfriend, remember? He’s allowed to do that. And he’ll be around for a while, so I want you two to be nice, okay?”
“…okay, mama.” They grumbled.
Sanzu almost popped a blood vessel, fist clenched around a bag of Lays and nearly busting it. He chuckled darkly, “Oh. We’ll see about that.”
angst + fluff + slight suggestive. being friends with takiishi chika, was equal to being on a super dangerous rollercoaster ride, well friends is a word you choose to use despite him not fitting into that category knowing that you are not friends and you will never be.
wc :: 13k. written without any new information about takiishi’s past. SHORT HAIRED CHIKA. original characters added for the sake of the story(not self insters). it's all a figment of my imagination. enjoy reading while listening.
Always be careful of men because you can get hurt if you play with fire for too long. Your mother's words had been ringing in your head every single second since you were born and you couldn't blame her even if you wanted to. Because she was always right about absolutely everything and everyone, as much as you didn't want to listen to her, thinking she didn't understand what it was like to be a teenager with raging emotions and a whole life ahead. Is love medicine or poison? Not even your mom knows the answer to that and you regret not listening to her, you regret calling her stupid and whatnot when you were the fool all along.
But that didn't stop you from seeing him, the boy who was his own hero and villain. His name was coming out of your mouth so sweetly when you asked him to play on the playground, but he pelted you with sand and you cried out loud. Why is a four-year-old so ill-mannered? Where are his parents? Everyone else was wondering this as your mother took you in her arms and started soothing you by gently stroking your hair. “It's okay darling, mommy is here…”
Her voice is always so sweet like honey, but her look directed at the little red-headed boy was so fierce and cruel. He did not react in any way — like a doll, just a body without a drop of soul. It was normal for kids to mess with others but it was not normal the way he behaved like some monster, it spoke enough for his upbringing. When your mother decided to raise her voice, he looked up at you with those golden eyes like the sun and smiled ever so slightly and imperceptibly, and your little childish brain under the influence of the strong emotion of sadness thought he was mocking you.
“You shouldn't bully children like that! Didn't your mother and father teach yo — ?” the little boy just turned his back and walked away not caring what your mother had to say, because who does she think she is to tell him what is right or wrong? She is no one to him like he is to hers. “Hey, boy, come right back here!” but he neither turned nor returned and your mom just looked at you and kissed your forehead, sighing heavily. “When you grow up, be careful who you fall in love with, I don't want you to be with boys like him.” you were too young to understand her words, but this was the first time Takiishi Chika made you cry.
“Can you believe that some boy just threw sand at our little girl?” Making dinner also meant time to share problems within the family. And your mother is still angry with the behavior of the little boy while cutting the carrots not so calmly that your dad had to take the knife away from her. “He's a little kid, most guys tease the girls they like.” If you could go back in time you would have told your father that it wasn't true, to some extent it is, but in this case, you were bullied by some stranger, not liked.
The memory of that day in the playground lingered in your mind, even as years went by and you began first grade with all the excitement and nerves that came with a new school year. Your parents had been busy preparing everything for you: new uniforms, new shoes, and the most important thing of all, a sweet obento packed with love.
Your first day of elementary school was filled with introductions and new faces. The classroom buzzed with the sounds of children's chatter and laughter. You found yourself making friends easily, joining in games during recess, and sharing stories about dolls over lunch. The obento your mother made was a hit among your new friends, who admired the neat arrangement of rice, vegetables, and little sausages shaped like octopuses.
As you sit at the lunch table with your classmates, enjoying your meal and the happy company, when suddenly you get a feeling that someone is watching you. Glancing up, you saw him — the same boy from the playground three years ago. He was sitting at the other table just a short distance away, staring at you with those same unsettling golden eyes. He looked slightly older, but there was no mistaking him with that short red hair.
For a moment, you froze, the memories of that day flashing back. The sand in your eyes, the sound of your mother's soothing voice, and his cold, emotionless stare. He looked away just as you made eye contact, his expression unreadable and that mocking smile was nowhere to be found.
One of your girl friends, noticing your sudden quietness, nudged you gently. “Y/N-chan, are you okay? Is that your boyfriend?”
You forced a smile and shook your head. “N-no! He’s just... someone I knew from before. He threw sand in my face when I was three!”
“He’s older, you know,” one of them said, nudging you with a playful smirk. “A whole year older. That makes him extra cool.” Another added voice in the choir, “And a bad boy! I heard he’s always getting into trouble. Isn’t that exciting, Y/N-chan?”
You felt your cheeks flush, embarrassment and frustration coloring your face. “No way. I would never be with someone like him!” Your friends exchanged glances, giggling. “You know what they say, right?” one of them teased. “If a boy likes you, he’ll tease you!”
You squint your eyes, being skeptical not wanting to give the idea any merit. Yeah, they can tease you, but not in a way that can make you go blind. “Don't be like my dad, Ami.” you retorted, recalling your dad’s words that echoed your friends' sentiments. Your mom always told you that teasing wasn't equal to affection, especially in such a harsh manner.
As the laughter continued, you watched him get up from the table, expecting him to come over or do something disruptive. But to your surprise, he just walked past you, not even glancing your way.
“See, you’re just like a princess waiting for her prince to save her from the poisoned apple with a kiss,” another friend teased, making everyone laugh again. “Maybe he’s just shy,” another one suggested with a smiling face, “Or maybe he’s planning something really special.”
If there was sand in this special thing you rather stay home and watch scary movies that make you unable to sleep. You didn't want to have anything to do with him, you were even starting to forget him, but apparently, life wanted you to remember the incident at the playground for the rest of your life.
When the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, you and your friends headed back to class. It was P.E. time, and you were all excited to play outside. The sun was shining brightly, and the playground was bustling with activity. You and your friends decided to pretend you were mermaids, splashing around an imaginary ocean, while others were fairies fluttering about.
As you laughed and played, you noticed the second graders also had P.E. at the same time. They were on the other side of the field, playing various games. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him, all alone, away from the group, kicking a football ball around.
You tried to ignore him, focusing on your game. But then, without warning, you felt a sharp pain in the back of your head. You crumpled to the ground, clutching your head and crying out in pain. Your friends gathered around you, their faces a mix of concern and confusion. Through the blur of tears, you saw the football ball that he had been playing with, now lying a few feet away from you. The teacher rushed over to check on you, while the second graders' teacher called out sternly, "Takiishi, to the principal's office!"
You looked up, still crying, and saw him walking away, a big red dot retreating into the distance. Tears streamed down your tender face as you held your head in your hands.
As the teachers helped you to your feet and checked for any serious injury, your friends whispered among themselves, some still giggling nervously. "He did it on purpose," one of them said. "Or it was just an accident," another suggested, but this wasn't Snow White or Sleeping Beauty waiting for their prince when they fell to be awakened by a kiss. It was real bullying but the other girls thought it was something romantic straight out of a fairy tale or a movie.
You didn't want to hear his name or see him anymore. But your parents taught you not to judge people, trying to push away the idea that he might have hurt you on accidnet knowing he did it on purpose. And speaking of parents, surely they will be angry, well at least your mom will be pissed knowing what this boy has done before and your dad will take it as an accident. You wished he was like the other boys, or maybe to behave like a real prince. At six years old you asked yourself the question: What did I do wrong?
The teachers decided it was best for you to sit out the rest of P.E. in the shade, and your friends stayed close, trying to cheer you up. “It’s okay, Y/N-chan!” Ami said hooking her arms with yours “My big sister cries all the time because of the boy she likes!”. Despite their efforts, the incident left another core memory in your childish brain — Takiishi Chika made you cry for a second time.
For your ninth birthday, you got the toy you saw on commercials every day. Yes, you may be a little too old for such things, but you're never too young to have fun. And that's why you and your friends agreed that tomorrow in class everyone should bring their dolls so that you can play.
It was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to run in the classroom, not in a circle trying to get your doll from a group of boys who were neither your age nor a year older, it seemed that they were at least twelve. Your heart races as you sprint down the hall, tears blurring your vision. Your precious doll, a cherished birthday gift, is clutched in the rough hands of boys who tower over you, their laughter echoing like cruel music in your ears. "Please, give it back! I won't tell the teacher, I promise!" you plead, voice trembling.
The boys laugh louder, one of them tossing your doll down the hall. You flinch, expecting to hear the sickening thud of your doll hitting the ground, but instead, you hear rapid footsteps. In an instant, the boys are on the ground, sprawled out in various states of shock and pain.
You freeze, fear tightening your chest. What if you're next? What if you never see another Winx transformation or find out what happens in One Piece? Shivering, you try to move but your body refuses to obey.
The figure before you is unmistakable. The red and yellow hues, the aura of danger—it's him. He stares at you, blinking a few times before that same mocking smile from six years ago spreads across his face. His gaze, cold and intense, feels like it's piercing through you. He doesn't speak, doesn't move—just stares. The silence stretches, heavy and uncomfortable. You wonder what he's thinking, why he's acting this way, but no answers come.
Before you can react, another voice pierces the tension. "Hey, don't cry now, here is your doll!" It's another boy, holding your now broken doll. You recognize him, he is with the redhead all the time, but his name eludes you. He hands it gently, and you accept it, despite its broken state. It's still yours.
"Takiishi, is that your girlfriend?" the blue-eyed boy asked but Takiishi ignored him. He steps over the fallen bodies, giving you one last look with those warm eyes that showed coldness, unwavering, as if searching for something within you.
"Hey, wait up for me~ It was nice meeting you!" the same boy shouts, running after the delinquent. You stand there, hugging your doll, still covered in goosebumps. Even though the fear was overpowering, you felt relieved at the same time.
For the first time, Takiishi Chika made you smile. It was a small, tentative smile, but it was there. The boy who once haunted your nightmares has given you a reason not to buy Dreamcatchers.
Being thirteen meant you were growing up, entering your teenage years, and you had to be cool, even if you had a strong obsession with that one band and several dozen movies and TV shows. You kept it cool, but when you were with your friends you were giggling like the middle school girls, in fact you are in middle school. For the past four years, you had a strange relationship with Takiishi Chika, the boy who had once been the monster in your fairy tale. After the doll incident, things changed. No one dared to cause you any harm or say anything to your address, knowing you had something going on with and although your friends jokingly call him your boyfriend, you know better. He is not and never will be your Prince Charming. Yet, you've grown used to his presence, tolerating him as best as you can.
Today was special, you felt like it was going to be. You had borrowed your mother's makeup, hoping she wouldn't notice. The thrill of trying something new made your heart race as you carefully applied pink lip gloss and mascara. It was simple, but the compliments from your friends made you feel like you had discovered a hidden superpower, even thinking that your favorite idol would ask you to be his girlfriend. You wore your makeup all day, and the compliments and flattery did not stop even after your school club activities ended, you decided to visit your favorite spot, the rooftop, with some leftover snacks.
The rooftop was your hiding place where you could escape and dream. The open sky seemed to stretch forever, and you loved the feeling of the breeze playing with your hair. Here, you could be yourself, indulging in daydreams about your favorite group and the countless movies and TV shows you adored.
As you stood admiring the view, just staring at the horizon, lost in thought. That was until you heard a familiar voice. Turning your head slightly you saw the source of the voice that belonged to Endo Yamato, and Takiishi Chika had climbed up and was watching from above. You tensed slightly, hoping they wouldn't notice you, but luck wasn't on your side.
"Hey, Takiishi, your girlfriend is here!" Endo's voice rang out, making you sigh. Not again with the boyfriend-girlfriend thing. Why does everyone have to call you that? He more or less tried to kill you, and he did it twice either with sand or a football ball.
"I am not his girlfriend, Endo," you said, annoyance clear in your voice. His teasing smile widened as he replied, "Then why are you wearing makeup? The whole school talked about how cute Takiishi's girlfriend is."
That left you confused. Other students talked about you being pretty? Being Takiishi Chika's pretty girlfriend? That couldn't be true, as he always talked nonsense, and expecting an answer from the red-haired boy was like expecting a lion to eat plants - it would never happen.
"You are so weird. No one said anything like that," you retorted, crossing your arms, and glaring at Endo, who still had that teasing smile plastered on his face. Before you could say anything more, Takiishi jumped down from a slightly higher place, landing between you and Endo.
"See, he is coming to greet you. He never leaves this spot—" Endo's words were cut off as Takiishi swung at him. Endo dodged the punch, grinning as he realized it was his cue to leave.
Now it was just you and Takiishi Chika. When you are with him, your heart burns and you don't know why. As always, he looked at you with that soulless look, his eyes still radiating emptiness, even though all his expression was something, it was nothing to you. You tried to find the right words. "Do you have always to do that?" you finally asked, referring to his sudden appearance and equally sudden aggression. His only response was a slight shrug as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Why do you always show up out of nowhere?" you pressed on. "And why does everyone think we're dating?"
Takiishi's eyes flickered for a moment, a hint of something passing through them, but it was gone as quickly as it came. "Does it matter?" he said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. You couldn't stand the silence, the lack of answers, the emptiness that seemed to consume every interaction with him. Each time you tried to break through his cold exterior, you felt yourself growing more frustrated, more desperate for some sign of humanity. Today, though, was different, you have reached your limit.
"Why don't you care?" Your voice wavered your anger and hurt mingling in your words. "For the past ten years, you've done nothing but humiliate me, throwing things my way, harshly shoving me out of your way. Why do you behave like some monster?" A hiccup escaped your lips, and you could feel the tears welling up, the dam finally breaking once again.
Takiishi just stared at you, his eyes as empty as ever. His lack of reaction only fueled your rage. "I tried my best to be good, to be a human and a friend to you. But you haven't changed." The words tumbled out of your mouth, unfiltered and raw. You didn't know what had possessed you to admit what you felt to someone who seemed incapable of feeling anything.
Was it because of last week when he tripped you on the stairs, and you had to lie to your mom about falling during a volleyball game? Or when he almost punched you just because you told him he had to go to class?
You tried to find the right words, to make him understand, to make him care. "Why?" you finally asked, your voice trembling. "Why do you show up out of nowhere and act like I'm some sort of target?"
Chika harshly grabbed your wrist, he was holding it very tight, and could have broken your arm at any second, as you winced at the sudden pain. "Let me go!" you demanded, trying to wrench your hand free. But he didn't let go. Instead, he pulled you closer, his breath warm against your face. And then, without warning, he kissed you on the lips. Your mind went blank. Not knowing how to react or what to think. The kiss was rough and forceful, lacking any tenderness or affection. It felt more like a punishment than a gesture of what others could call love. When he finally pulled away, you were left gasping for breath, your heart pounding in your chest like it was going to burst out at any moment.
You stumbled back, your wrist still aching from his grip. "What is wrong with you?" you shouted, your voice cracking with a mix of anger and confusion. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand as if trying to erase the memory of his kiss.
He just stood there, watching you with that same inscrutable expression. "You can't just do that to people," you continued, your voice trembling as you were breathing heavily. "You can't just… do whatever you want."
But his eyes never wavered, and his expression never changed. It was as if he hadn't heard a word you said, as if your pain and unknown emotions deep inside your heart hidden away, meant nothing to him. And in that moment, you realized that maybe they didn't.
You took a step back, needing to put some distance between yourself and him. "Stay away from me, I hate you." you said, your voice steadier now. Hate was a strong word and it wasn't just said out of nowhere, but he deserved it. "Monster."
That special moment for every single girl who was or was about to fall in love was taken away from you, your first kiss stolen by someone like him. You knew you should hate him, despise him for what he had done. But a part of you, a small, irrational part, still wanted to understand him, to reach out to the person hidden behind the locked doors of his soul. But as you turned to leave, you couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't the end, that he wasn't done with you yet. Takiishi Chika made you cry for a third time. And that thought was more terrifying than anything else.
Words came out of his mouth after you were no longer here, but only he heard them, almost as a whisper to himself. "You are pretty." They were meant to be an aside, a secret confession cloaked in madness, but now they felt like a ghost, haunting the empty space where you used to be.
The sweet sixteen — from caterpillar to a beautiful butterfly in the endless garden called life. You grew, mentally and physically, more mature than you were a few years ago in middle school. And now look at you, first year in high school, new place and with new people, it was so nostalgic when you thought about your first day of school.
The laughter, the smiles... and the tears. Despite everything that had happened a whole decade ago, the past is past — forgive and forget. There was no room in your head to think about it anymore, not when your boyfriend was waiting for you. Was your mother showing him baby pictures of you again? This woman loves to embarrass you, but it can't be helped, you are her only daughter.
"Ah, here she is three years old, she loved playing in this sandbox until some spoiled brat threw sand at her." you overhear her say. She still holds a grudge against him. His name has become a taboo subject, and she’d freak out if she found out he kissed you — that’s why she doesn’t know. In fact, no one does. "Mom, you should stop showing Kirihito my baby photos every time he is here," you say as your boyfriend chuckles, and your mom gets up and goes to the kitchen.
"Come and get your lunch," she calls, but before you leave the house, she tells you to be careful with Kirihito Yuu. It's your first boyfriend, and not every first try is going to be good or as expected, she wanted to protect you from bad news.
"Be careful, darling. Don't play with fire for too long or you will get burned." She doesn't understand what it's like to be a teenager with raging emotions and a whole life ahead. Your mother should stop being so judgy. She doesn't know Kirihito like you do.
"You are ridiculous, Mom," you roll your eyes as you put the bento in your bag. This conversation has been going on for almost 5 months since they found out you had a boyfriend and apparently they won't stop hinting at it.
"Just don't come back crying when he breaks your heart."
You don't say anything, your scoff is enough. Everyone likes him; why can't she? Even your dad is on her side with this. But you pay them no mind like you started doing when you entered puberty. You know everything; your parents know nothing.
Arriving at your school's gate, he holds both of your hands. "I'll see you later?" you ask, feeling his body warmth. The thing is you're going to an all-girls high school, and your boyfriend attends Furin High School. Its reputation isn't great, and your parents don't like him because they see him as one of those vulgar hooligans.
But no one could beat Takiishi Chika in terms of being the most horrible person you've ever met. He had a reputation for being extremely violent. He didn't care about anything and you knew it best by being his play toy. Even in his first year of junior school, he beat someone supposedly stronger than him, and he caused fear wherever he walked.
Wait... Did you just think about him again?
"Are you okay, love?" your boyfriend asks, his voice pulling you back to the present. You nod your head, trying to shake off the unsettling memories. "Just being nervous is all." You smile at Kirihito, unlike someone else, he's never bullied you or been cold. Instead, he's always been your safe haven. You're not ready to say those three words yet, but you know your feelings for him run deep.
“You got this. Call me if you need anything, all right?” he said as you nodded your head, blushing as he went on his way to Furin High. It always felt like the beginning of a different world, one that you were both a part of and completely separate from. As he walked through the school gates, he was always on time for classes, or "meetings," as they liked to call them.
A whistle made its way to his ears as he saw his team leader and bowed his head. "Unusual for you to be late," the leader said, voice teasing. "Did you rob a bank or something? You look a little bit too happy."
Kirihito looked up, his piercing red eyes meeting his upper's blue ones. The leader's smirk grew wider, sensing something out of the ordinary. "I was just walking my girlfriend to her school," Kirihito said nonchalantly, though a slight tinge of pride colored his usually stoic tone.
The main reason why Furin was like it was, a place where chaos and destruction ruled was because of Endo Yamato, he was pretty well known in and outside most schools. "Oh! Girlfriend, you say? Is she cute?" curiosity piqued, as he leaned in slightly, eager for more details about this unexpected aspect of Kirihito's life.
"I guess she is," he replied, his voice flat and devoid of enthusiasm.
"You don't sound like you love her," the leader remarked, raising an eyebrow at Kirihito's indifference "That's because I don't," face dull and his voice detached from emotion. His eyes, however, held a fleeting sadness, hinting at deeper complexities within him. Endo watched him for a moment longer, intrigued by the contradiction of Kirihito's actions and his apparent lack of feelings. "Well, best of luck breaking up with her."
But his curiosity didn't stop there, it was after a few hours when Endo's eyes followed Kirihito as he moved through the bustling schoolyard, a catlike grace to his steps that belied the darkness within him. He trailed behind, his presence unnoticed by the rest of the students who were preoccupied with their own dramas and distractions.
It wasn't long before he saw Kirihito meet up with a girl who broke into a smile as she approached him, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her boyfriend. A very familiar face. Hold on… Is that you? Kirihito's demeanor shifted slightly, a faint, almost imperceptible softness in his otherwise cold exterior. He reached out and took your hand, guiding you away from the crowd of students and towards a quieter part of the campus.
It was really you. L/N Y/N.
Endo Yamato hit the jackpot, he couldn't believe it. After three years he finally saw you again. He snapped a photo of the two of you with his phone, the click of the camera shutter masked by the noise of the school around him. As he reviewed the image, a slow smile spread across his face. You had grown even prettier since he last saw you before you transferred to another middle school, your features more refined, your presence more captivating. It was no wonder Takiishi was infatuated with you.
He lingered in the shadows, watching as the both of you turned to leave in the direction of the city center. “On a date, huh?” prying eyes remained fixed on you, noting the way you stood for a moment, watching Kirihito retreat before holding your hand.
He knew exactly where to find you now, how you looked, and who you were with. Takiishi would be very interested in this information because he didn't bother to like anything else besides violence. The thought of delivering such news to him filled Endo with such happiness.
As you walked hand in hand with Kirihito, the city around you seemed to fade into the background. You were lost in the moment, the warmth of his hand in yours grounding you, making you feel safe and cherished. You had longed for something like this—for love, a simple date just the two of you, enjoying each other's company without any worries.
You both decided to stop by your favorite café, the soft murmur of conversations and the gentle clinking of cups created a cozy atmosphere. As you settled into a corner booth, you couldn't help but notice Kirihito's face clouded with a hint of sadness.
"Baby, what's wrong? Did a fight break out again?" you asked, your voice filled with concern and anxiety.
Kirihito glanced up, his eyes meeting yours. "Don't worry, just a rough start to the day. Nothing that your smile can't fix," he replied, a small smile tugging at his lips.
You blushed at his comment, warmth spreading through you. Kirihito's words had a way of making you feel special, even when he was hiding his own troubles. Meanwhile, he couldn't shake the thought of how annoying and clingy you were. But despite that, he couldn't deny that you were pretty — the only thing he liked about you.
Meanwhile, Endo's mind was racing with plans. He knew Takiishi would want to know about your relationship with Kirihito. He couldn't wait to see the chaos that would unfold. Slipping away from the busy street, making his way through the narrow alleyways his sharp eyes scanning every corner. The scent of damp asphalt mixed with the faint metallic tang of blood. He found a tall dark silhouette against the dim alleyway lights, standing over several unconscious bodies. Takiishi’s fists were clenched, his breath coming in heavy, angry bursts.
"Takiishi," Endo called out, his voice steady despite the chaotic scene. Chika turned, his golden eyes blazing with a fire that seemed to burn through the shadows. "You fought these guys a week ago. Give them a break."
Endo stepped closer, carefully avoiding the bodies sprawled on the ground. "I was about to tell you something," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. "But I realized you might need one more day."
Takiishi's anger could have been seen, an almost physical force radiating from him. "One more day for what?" he demanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.
"To enjoy," Endo replied, his tone teasing as ever. "Before everything changes." He knew well enough that telling Takiishi about you would ignite a firestorm; his temper was like a blazing inferno, consuming everything in its path when provoked.
Takiishi's eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering across his face. "What are you planning?"
Endo shrugged "You'll find out soon enough, don’t wanna spoil the birthday surprise."
Takiishi stared at him, the fire in his eyes dimming slightly as he processed Endo's words, but the redhead paid him no mind because he always talked like that. He left the scene, probably in search of something else to entertain him, as the other followed him like a loyal dog.
As they walk around the city, the usual noise of traffic and chatter blends into a monotonous hum. The streets are busy, and the neon lights cast a colorful glow on the pavement. Takiishi barely listens to Endo's stories about the latest drama in Furin, his mind wandering.
Then, out of nowhere, you appear. Standing alone at the bus stop, your presence strikes Takiishi like a bolt of lightning. He doesn’t know how he spotted you in the crowd, and he doesn’t care. All he knows is that his chest tightens and his brain goes numb. He doesn't care about you. He won't question why you left, won't let himself feel anything. But why is his body moving towards you?
Endo's voice calls out to him, urging him to stop. "Takiishi, wait!" His friend's hand grabs his arm, trying to pull him back. Without thinking, Takiishi spins around and punches Endo hard in the face. The crack of bone against bone is a well-known melody by now.
"Don't get in my way," Takiishi snarls, his voice a low growl. It's not just a warning—it's an order.
But when he looks back to the bus stop, you're gone. The bus pulls away, carrying you out of his reach. The moment passes, and he’s left staring at the taillights disappearing into the distance.
Takiishi turns back to Endo, who is clutching his jaw and staring at him in shock. The fire in his eyes dims slightly as he processes what he’s done, but he doesn’t apologize, he never does. Endo mutters something under his breath, probably a curse, expecting something like this to happen.
Chika walks alone now, and the reality of what just happened sinks in. The city buzzes around him, indifferent to his mess. He feels the sting of regret but pushes it down. There’s no room for that now. Not when he wasn't done with you, not when he needed you.
It was hard work, even when you put in extra hours after school. With one of your coworkers out sick, you had to juggle the cash register and sorting products in the warehouse simultaneously. The bell over the door jingled, and your remaining coworker nudged you, urging you to check on the new arrival.
"Hello, sorry for making you wait. What can I do for y—?" Your sentence trailed off in shock as you looked up and saw the customer. "Endo?" Standing in front of the register, he appeared taller and more fit than you remembered, but his expression was unchanged, though you noticed a few bloodstains on his face.
"Long time no see, cutie~," he greeted you with a teasing tone.
You forced a smile, masking your panic. "What are you doing here?" It was a stupid question, you knew, but his sudden appearance and choice of a nickname threw you off.
"What? I can't buy myself a drink now?" he pouted playfully as he placed two energy drinks on the counter. "You live on the other side of town, where they certainly have the same drinks."
You scanned the items, and he paid with more than necessary. "Keep the change." He took the drinks but didn't leave. "What?" you asked, feeling uneasy.
"I came here to talk to you. As they say, the customer is always right, and you should attend to his needs."
You sighed, glancing at the clock. It was nearly closing time, and as much as you wanted to say no, you reluctantly agreed. Sitting outside, he opened one drink and handed you the other, claiming it was his treat. You murmured a thanks, sipping it quietly. Despite the silence, it wasn't awkward. Questions swirled in your mind: why was he here? Had he been in a fight?
"Who did you fight this time?" you asked, curiosity getting the better of you, knowing how he was getting targeted.
"Your boyfriend," he replied calmly. Kirihito had landed a punch on Endo? That couldn't be true. Kirihito wasn't the type to get into fights, especially not with someone like Endo. Besides, you and Kirihito kept things private, away from the Furin guys. "Takiishi's been doing well, though it's been rough after you broke up with him," he continued, poking at an old wound.
Not this again. Takiishi Chika wasn't your boyfriend. You never broke up with him; you ended whatever twisted relationship you had after he treated you like nothing. But explaining that to Endo would be pointless. He thrived on these messy entanglements, relishing the drama.
"Endo, I'm not in the mood for this," you said, hoping to steer the conversation away from painful memories, but deep down you wanted to ask him so many things
"Come on, Y/N, don't be like that. I'm just here to catch up," he said, his tone mockingly innocent. "It's been too long. You can't tell me you haven't missed me a little."
You sighed again, knowing this conversation wasn't going to end quickly. "What do you want from me?" He leaned back, looking up at the sky and then at you. "I want to know how you've been. And maybe... just maybe, I want to see if you wanted to hang out someday, just like the old times."
You rolled your eyes. "No, thank you. I have a boyfriend.” and before you could say more, he chuckled. Oh, how much he loves knowing things other people didn’t. Your boyfriend was a complete jerk, a weakling, someone who was a waste of air on the Furin grounds. But he will make you see it yourself, the morning is wiser than yesterday, and he will look forward to it.
The night air was cool and refreshing the street lights casting a faint glow on Endo's face. He sipped his drink, a smirk on his lips as if he were savoring every moment. You could tell he was playing games like he always did. He was more like a mastermind, instead of a player.
Endo’s gaze lingered on you, and he finally said, “You know, Y/N, it's strange. I always thought we had a good thing going. Even if it was a bit chaotic.”
You frowned, not sure where he was headed. It was chaotic for him, but it was traumatic for you. “We had a lot of things going on, but I wouldn’t call it good.” He shrugged, unaffected by your words. “Fair enough. I suppose I’m just nostalgic. Those days had a certain charm.”
It was clear he wanted to probe deeper, to stir up emotions you’d rather leave in the past. But you decided to change the subject. “Where are you hitting at?.”
He tilted his head, considering your question with a thoughtful look. “I missed you,” he said finally, though his tone was light, almost playful. “Or maybe I just wanted to see how you’re doing, to remind you that not everything is as perfect as it seems.”
You didn’t want to dwell on his riddles. Instead, you took a deep breath and tried to focus on the present. “Look, it’s late, and I have a busy day tomorrow. It’s probably best if we wrap this up.”
Endo’s expression softened, and he gave you a small, almost genuine smile. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you a VIP pass.” He stood up, stretching a bit as if preparing to leave. “But before I go, I want you to remember something.”
You looked up at him, waiting. “What is it?”
He took a moment, studying you with an intensity that made you shiver slightly. “Life has a way of throwing surprises at us, and sometimes, it’s worth keeping an open mind. Don’t be too quick to dismiss what’s right in front of you.”
Before you could respond, he took a step back, his expression shifting to one of casual indifference. “Goodnight, Y/N. Sweet dreams~”
With that, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the night. You watched him go, very confused, wondering what kind of mess you had gotten yourself into without knowing it. The encounter had left you with more questions than answers, and as you headed back inside, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Endo’s words would linger in your mind long after he was gone. Just like you were thinking about another man when you were already in a relationship, sometimes you can't get rid of the past if it just keeps coming back to you.
You groaned softly as you woke up from the weird dream, feeling the remnants of confusion like a hungover. Endo, of all people, was in your dream, and yet, there had been something unsettlingly real about it. Blinking in the morning light, your eyes fell on the pitcher of the drink he’d given you yesterday. It was still there as if mocking the boundaries between your dreams and reality.
Rubbing your eyes, you reached for your phone to check the date. June 21st stared back at you from the screen, bringing with it the gentle reminder of an important milestone. A message from Kirihito popped up, as you read his sweet, heartfelt message, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. He had planned a special dinner for the two of you tonight, a gesture that spoke volumes about how much he cared.
Happy seven months to us, my love!
It's hard to believe it's already been seven months since we started this incredible journey together. Every day with you has been a blessing, filled with laughter, love, and countless memories that I cherish deeply, every moment spent with you is a moment I hold dear.
You bring so much joy and light into my life, and I’m grateful for your love, kindness, and the beautiful soul that you are. You’ve made me a better person, and I can’t wait to see where our journey takes us next.
Thank you for being my partner, my best friend, and my everything. I love you more than words can express. I love you <3
But as the warmth of his words enveloped you, a nagging thought wormed its way into your mind. There was something else you were supposed to remember today, something that felt like it was just out of reach. But as hard as you tried to remember, it slipped through your fingers like sand. You were looking forward to the evening with your boyfriend; it would be special, just like every moment you spent together.
As you tried to push the nagging thought aside, the memory of last night crept back in. The way Endo just appeared out of nowhere and started saying things to you that somehow made sense. You shook your head, determined to focus on the present. Kirihito’s message was a bright spot in your day, a reminder of the love and connection you shared. You set your phone aside, mentally preparing yourself for the evening ahead, and resolved to enjoy every moment of it.
After all, the present was where your heart truly lay. The past, with its fleeting dreams and unresolved questions, could wait until you were ready to confront it.
You got up, getting ready for school when you heard a knock on your bedroom door. "Come in!" you said as the door opened and your mother entered, holding a decorated pink box.
"Special delivery for you," she announced as she got closer to you and you took the box from her. It was elegantly wrapped, with a delicate ribbon tied perfectly around it. You recognized the handwriting on the attached card immediately: it was from Kirihito. Your heart skipped a beat as you carefully opened the box. Inside, nestled in soft tissue paper, was a stunning golden bracelet with the letter K elegantly engraved. It shimmered in the morning light, and a smile spread across your face.
Your mother's presence, however, quickly brought you back to reality. She stood there, a complicated expression on her face, of concern and disapproval. Sensing her impending lecture, you felt a wave of frustration rise within you.
"If you are going to say something bad about him, leave. I don't want to deal with your antics today," you snapped, the harshness of your tone surprising even yourself. You slipped the bracelet onto your wrist, admiring how it looked against your skin.
Your mother's eyes narrowed, and she took a step back, hurt flickering across her face. "You will regret talking like that to me," she said quietly, but with a firmness that made you pause. "But it's your choice if love is medicine or poison."
With that, she turned and walked out of your room, leaving you standing there, the bracelet suddenly feeling heavier than it did a moment ago.
You leave for school, the golden accessory gleaming on your wrist as a reminder of Kirihito's gift. The morning air is crisp, and you try to shake off the uneasy feeling your mother's words left behind. Your mind drifts as you walk, lost in thoughts of your boyfriend and the complicated web of emotions surrounding you.
But then you see it. That unmistakable flash of red hair in the distance, the distinctive black gakuran jacket that seems to draw all light into its inky depths, and those golden eyes that watch you from afar. Everything around you becomes silent and extinguished, as if the world itself has faded away, leaving only a singular path that leads to him.
Your breath hitches in your throat, and your steps falter as you stare. His hair, still in the same short style, catches the morning light just right. Face was still so gentle yet rough, and his eyes were still full of nothingness, but this time it seemed like the golden and warm color didn't cotranslate with his soul when his pupils dilated. He's grown, no longer the boy you remember, but the change is striking. He used to be shorter than you, but now he stands tall, almost imposing, a figure out of a memory that feels both distant and hauntingly close.
Time seems to stretch as you both stand there, locked in each other's gaze. The world around you ceases to exist; there's only him and the unspoken history that ties you together. He begins to move, each step bringing him closer, his eyes never leaving yours.
Panic surged through you. Without thinking, you turned on your heel and started running. The sound of your footsteps echoed in your ears, but the only thing you could focus on was the sensation of his gaze following you. Your surroundings became a blur as you dashed down the street, your heart pounding louder with each step.
You didn't dare look back, afraid of what you might see—or feel—if you did. The world felt like it was closing in, the path ahead narrowing as you sprinted towards the school gates, seeking refuge in the familiar bustle of your classmates and the routines of the day.
Finally, you slowed down, breathless and shaken. You glanced back over your shoulder, but there was no sign of him. Yet the feeling of his eyes on you lingered, a reminder that some things from the past have a way of catching up, no matter how fast you run.
Behind you, you sense him still coming, a relentless presence that refuses to fade. Your breath comes in ragged gasps as you push yourself harder, desperate to put distance between you and the figure from your past. The bracelet on your wrist feels like a burning brand, a reminder of the tangled emotions you can't escape.
You finally entered the school, the sight of familiar faces and the usual morning chaos offering a semblance of comfort. But the pounding of your heart and the image of his golden eyes wouldn't leave your mind. You made a beeline for the restrooms, seeking a moment of solitude to collect yourself.
Inside the quiet, sterile space, you approached the sink and turned on the tap. Cold water gushed out, and you cupped your hands to catch it, splashing your face repeatedly. The shock of the cold helped, but only slightly. As you lifted your head and looked into the mirror, your reflection stared back at you, water droplets mingling with the tears that had escaped your eyes.
Why do you feel this way? The question hung in the air, as you watched the tears and water flow down your face, leaving trails of confusion and heartache in their wake. You had everything you were supposed to want: a boyfriend who cared for you, a life that was steady and predictable. So why were you crying now?
Why does your heart beat so much for him but not for your boyfriend? The thought gnawed at you, your chest tightening with the realization. Kirihito was kind, caring, and had always been there for you. But the sight of Takiishi Chika had stirred something deep within you, something that had lain dormant for years.
Why do you love Takiishi Chika? You whispered the question to your reflection, the words feeling both foreign and familiar. He had always been a part of your life, he might have been an asshole to you but seeing him again had brought back a flood of memories, emotions you thought you had buried long ago. Takiishi Chika made you cry for the fourth time. Instead of being scared, you are more attracted to him, now.
The realization hit you like a wave, and you clutched the edge of the sink for support. The pain of the present and the echoes of the past merged into a confusing whirlwind inside you. How could you explain these feelings, even to yourself? The tears kept flowing, each drop a testament to the storm in your heart. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the questions persisted, their answers just didn’t exist.
As you stood there, lost in the labyrinth of your emotions, the school bell rang, jolting you back to reality. You quickly wiped your face, trying to compose yourself. The day had to go on, but the image of Chika, and the emotions he had stirred, lingered at the edges of your mind, refusing to be ignored.
The rest of the school day passed slow. You attended classes, answered questions when asked, and even smiled at your friends, but everything felt distant and detached. Your mind was elsewhere, lost in the tangled web of your emotions. Every time you glanced at your wrist, the bracelet Kirihito gave you shimmered back, reminding you of his presence, his love, and how different your feelings were now.
You barely tasted your lunch, pushing the food around your tray while your thoughts drifted back to Chika. The memories of him, the way he had looked at you that morning, kept replaying in your mind. It was a struggle to focus on anyone else.
By the time the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, you felt exhausted. The prospect of going home should have been a relief, but you knew it meant facing the evening ahead—a dinner with Kirihito that you now dreaded.
As you walked home, the air felt heavy, and each step took more effort than the last. When you reached your house, the usual comfort it provided felt hollow. You opened the door, expecting to be greeted by your mom and dad, but the house was eerily quiet.
You spotted a note on the living room table and picked it up, recognizing your mother's handwriting. "We'll be back at 10pm. If anything happens, call us. We love you. Mom and Dad."
The silence in the house amplified the turmoil inside you. You were completely alone, with nothing but your thoughts and the looming dinner with Kirihito to prepare for. The emptiness of the house mirrored the emptiness you felt creeping into your heart.
You made your way to your room, dropping your bag by the door. The thought of seeing Kirihito, of pretending everything was fine, felt overwhelming. You stood in front of the mirror, looking at your reflection again. The tears from the morning had dried, but the confusion and heartache remained etched on your face.
Taking a deep breath, you began to get ready for the night. You chose an outfit carefully, one that you knew Kirihito liked, but the act felt mechanical, devoid of the excitement you used to feel. As you brushed your hair and applied a light touch of makeup, you couldn't shake the thought that this dinner might be the last.
Your mind kept drifting back to Chika, to the way he had looked at you, the unspoken connection that had reignited the feelings you had tried so hard to forget. The realization that your heart was drifting further away from Kirihito and towards Chika was painful, but undeniable.
You finished getting ready and sat on your bed, staring at your reflection one last time. Tonight, you would see Kirihito, and you hoped that somehow, you would find the strength to face the truth—both for his sake and your own.
As the time for dinner drew closer, you knew you had to leave soon. The house was still empty, your parents' absence a reminder that you were on your own in this. Taking one last deep breath, you stood up and headed towards the door, hoping that whatever happened tonight would bring you the clarity you desperately needed.
You took one last glance in the mirror, ensuring that your makeup was intact and your expression was as composed as possible. It was going to be rough to break up on an anniversary, but you knew it was better to end things now than to continue living a lie. You smoothed down your bright short red dress, feeling the soft fabric beneath your fingertips. The color was bold, perhaps too bold for how you felt inside, but you wanted to put on a brave front for Kirihito.
Deciding against heels, you slipped into a pair of comfortable sneakers and a black purse to match them. They were elegant enough to match your dress but practical, much like the decision you were about to make. The bracelet on your wrist glittered in the light, and you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come.
Stepping outside, you saw Kirihito waiting for you by the gate. His face lit up with a smile as soon as he saw you. His enthusiasm and warmth were always so genuine, and it pained you to know that you were about to hurt him.
"Wow," he said, eyes widening as you approached. "You look stunning."
"Thank you," you replied, forcing a smile. His compliment meant a lot, but the weight of what you had to do made it hard to fully appreciate it. Kirihito's gaze fell on the bracelet on your wrist, and his smile grew even wider. "I'm glad you liked the bracelet. It looks beautiful on you."
You glanced at the bracelet and then back at him, the words you needed to say heavy on your tongue. "It's lovely, Kirihito. Thank you."
He reached out, taking your hand in his. "Ready to go?"
You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Yes, let's go."
The walk to the restaurant was filled with casual conversation, Kirihito chatting animatedly about his day and plans for the future. You tried your best to engage, nodding and responding where appropriate, but your mind was elsewhere, already rehearsing the words you needed to say.
For two hours, you endured, trying to distract yourself by focusing on the person in front of you, rather than the one who had invaded your thoughts. Every time you glanced at Kirihito, you felt a pang of guilt. He deserved to know the truth, even if it would hurt him. You owed him that much.
After dinner, you walked hand in hand through the dimly lit streets, the tension between you growing with each step. You took a deep breath, knowing the moment had come.
"Kirihito, I think—" you started, but he cut you off.
"Please forgive me," he said urgently, his voice trembling. Before you could react, he dragged you into a dark alley nearby, his grip on your hand tightening.
"Kirihito, what are you—" Your words were cut off as he pinned you against the wall, his lips crashing into yours. His kisses trailed down your neck and collarbone, each touch making your heart race, but not in the way it once did.
"W-what—?" you moaned, confusion and discomfort mingling in your voice. This wasn't right. This wasn't what you had planned, and it certainly wasn't how you wanted things to go.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark and intense. "I just... I need to feel close to you," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.
Your body responded instinctively, but your mind screamed in protest. You had talked about this before, about waiting until you felt ready, whether it was with him or someone else. This wasn't how you had imagined it. This wasn't what you wanted.
"Kirihito, stop," you said firmly, trying to push him away. "This isn't right."
Instead of listening, he laughed—a harsh, cruel sound that bore no resemblance to his usual sweet laughter. "Listen here," he said, his voice empty of any affection. "You are just a stupid doll with a beautiful body. Too bad you can’t do anything."
The words hit you like a physical blow. I wanted to remind you that not everything is as perfect as it seems. Panic surged through you as he grabbed your hands and kissed you forcefully, his touch making your skin crawl. You felt sick, and the realization that your mother had been right about him crashed over you with like a sudden and rapid tsunami.
Desperation fueled your actions as you struggled to break free. You kicked him between the legs, and he staggered back, a pained groan escaping his lips. But before you could escape, he pulled something from his pocket—a small, sharp object.
In a flash, he cut your wrist, and you cried out in pain. The searing sting made you gasp, but there was no time to react further. Adrenaline surged through your veins as you realized the immediate danger you were in. Summoning every ounce of strength, you tore away from him, kicking and hitting him, and ran away. The alley seemed to stretch endlessly, but you didn’t stop. The pain in your arm was sharp, but the fear of being caught was sharper.
You burst out of the dark place and into the street, your heart pounding in your chest. You glanced back only briefly to see Kirihito's shadowed figure retreating into the darkness. The world felt like it was spinning around you, and you ran as fast as you could, seeking safety out of the darkness.
Humiliated and betrayed. The sweet, loving facade Kirihito had presented was nothing more than a cruel act. All this time, he had been playing you, pretending to care just to satisfy his own desires. His words replayed in your mind: "You are just a stupid doll with a beautiful body." The disgust and hurt were overwhelming. You had been fooled into believing in a love that turned out to be nothing more than manipulation and deceit.
The pain in your wrist, while not life-threatening, was a constant, stinging reminder of how wrong things had gone. The cut hurt, but the emotional wounds were deeper, more painful. The agony of being used and belittled was a brutal blow, especially on what was supposed to be your anniversary—a day meant for celebration, now marred by violence and betrayal.
With your makeup smudged and your vision blurred by tears, you walked alone through the dark streets, feeling like a mess. The cold night air felt harsh against your skin, but the real chill was in the emptiness you felt inside. You stumbled, your heart shattered and your spirit crushed. You had no idea where you were going or what to do next.
In your daze, you collided with something—or rather, someone. You staggered back, mumbling an apology, "I-I am sorry." Your gaze was fixed on the ground, unable to meet the eyes of whoever you had bumped into.
"Who did this to you?" The voice was gentle but held a tone of underlying anger that made you shiver. You looked up slowly and were stunned to see the one man you thought about all day, Takiishi Chika standing before you. The sight of him was almost a mirage in your confused state.
His eyes were filled with nothing but pure rage and as he took in your disheveled appearance and the bloody wound on your wrist, his expression darkened. You have never seen him like that. "Y/N," he said, taking your hand in his, the movement was a bit harsh. "Who did this to you?"
You tried to speak, but your throat was tight with emotion. All the memories you had with him appeared in your head like a movie. As for him, he didn't care if you were at school or not, he didn't care when you left him three years ago, he didn't care when you ignored him, he didn't care after seeing you in tears because of another person.
Only he was allowed to make you cry.
Without waiting for an answer, Chika’s anger surged. “Come here, you bitch.” The voice was cold and determined as he turned towards the direction you had come from, storming off in the direction of Kirihito. You watched as he took off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, a small gesture of comfort amid the chaos.
But as Takiishi moved past you, another figure emerged. Endo, with a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine, placed a hand on your arm. “I knew he would like his birthday present, though I didn’t expect him to find you in such a state,” Endo said with a twisted grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.”
The realization hit you like a punch to the gut—today was Takiishi’s birthday. You had forgotten in the midst of everything, and now everything felt like a cruel twist of fate. As Endo’s hand covered your eyes, you felt a surge of fear. “It’s better not to watch,” he said softly.
Confusion and fear mixed with the anger you felt. “Why is this happening? Kirihito, then you, Takiishi—What is going on?” you stuttered, your voice trembling.
Your question was swallowed by the sounds of a struggle as Takiishi and Kirihito faced off. The alleyway seemed to close in around you as Chika and Kirihito came into view. Kirihito, his demeanor now vicious and cruel, snarled at Chika.
Takiishi moved fast, faster than any beast or monster, his anger driving him. He charged at Kirihito, his movements a blur of strength and precision. Kirihito tried to block the assault, but Takiishi’s punches were relentless. Each blow landed with a sickening thud, and Kirihito struggled to keep up, his defenses crumbling under the onslaught. Chika’s fists connected with Kirihito’s jaw, sending him reeling against the wall. The force of the impact left Kirihito gasping for breath.
“Don't play with what's mine.” Takiishi growled, his voice dripping with fury. He grabbed Kirihito by the collar and slammed him against the wall, his eyes burning with a mixture of rage and determination. That boy was a monster and he was becoming one because of you.
Kirihito’s attempts to fight back were feeble compared to Takiishi’s relentless assault. He tried to push him away, but Chika’s strength was overwhelming. With a final, powerful punch, Takiishi sent Kirihito sprawling to the ground. The force of the blow left Kirihito sprawled on the pavement, barely conscious.
Breathing heavily, Takiishi stood over him, his chest heaving with the exertion of the fight. Kirihito, defeated and battered, looked up with a mixture of fear and pain.
“Touch her one more time,” Takiishi said coldly, his voice low and dangerous. ”And you are dead.”
As Kirihito tried to rise, Takiishi moved in, making it clear that he was done with him. The fight was over, and Kirihito’s attempts to get up were weak and futile. He slumped against the wall, his strength gone, as Takiishi stepped back.
Endo, still standing beside you, looked at the scene with a satisfied smirk. He removed his hand from your eyes, and you saw Takiishi standing tall, victorious, and Kirihito defeated on the ground. The sight was both a relief and a painful reminder of the turmoil you had just endured.
Chika’s gaze softened as he turned back to you, he reached out to touch your face gently, wiping away the remnants of your tears and smudged makeup. You didn’t seem fazed by the blood on his hands or the stains on his clothes. What mattered to him was the look of concern in his eyes this time they were not empty and cold, but warm and full of the sight of you.
He leaned in, his thumb gently caressing your cheek leaving a tint of your already red blush, lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the violence. The kiss was a desperate, passionate connection—a promise of solace amidst the chaos.
His lips moved against yours, each touch a balm to the emotional wounds that had been inflicted. There was an overwhelming sense of reassurance in his kiss, a silent vow that he would be there for you no matter what. It was both a declaration and a comfort, a way of saying everything he couldn’t express in words, everything he was being regretful for.
Endo, unable to resist making a final comment, let out a dry chuckle. “I’m still here, you know,” he said, his voice laced with a hint of mockery. “Not that it matters now.”
As the kiss deepened, you felt the world slipping further away, your senses dimming. Takiishi’s touch, and his kiss, were the last things you felt before the darkness enveloped you completely. The last thing you felt was the comforting solidity of Takiishi's arms as he caught you and held you close. The stressful night had taken its toll, but as you passed out in his arms, you knew that for now, you were safe.
Takiishi cradled your limp body in his arms, lifting you effortlessly into a bridal carry. His grip was gentle, as the weight of your unconscious form seemed to worry him, fueling his resolve to get you to safety. His gaze was locked on your face, a look of protectiveness in his eyes.
As he began to walk, the night air was cool against his skin, but his focus was solely on you. Each step he took was deliberate, each movement careful to ensure your comfort. Endo, trailing behind with a satisfied smirk, observed the scene with a sense. His role in the evening's events had gone according to plan, and he was content with the unfolding of the night. He walked leisurely, his hands in his pockets, his eyes occasionally glancing towards the scene before him.
Takiishi’s thoughts were focused on you, your well-being, and getting you home safely. Endo, on the other hand, seemed to view the situation in another way, as if the events were merely a dramatic play unfolding before him.
The clock had long struck midnight when they arrived at your home. The darkness of the night was only pierced by the dim, flickering light from a lamp inside. Takiishi, still holding you carefully in his arms, as Endo knocked on the door and rang the bell, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night. The minutes ticked by slowly as they waited, the flickering lamp casting uneasy shadows across the front yard.
From inside, there was a murmured exchange, followed by the sound of shuffling footsteps. The door creaked open, revealing a disheveled figure. Your mother’s tired eyes widened in shock as she took in the sight of you, unconscious and cradled in Takiishi’s arms.
"Who the hell—" her voice cut off as she saw your limp form. Her gaze darted between you, Takiishi, and Endo, recognition dawning as she remembered the redhead from past encounters. "Y/N?" Her voice broke with worry and anger as she took in the blood on your wrist and the disheveled state you were in.
"What have you done to my daughter?" she demanded, her voice rising with both fear and rage. The sight of you in such a vulnerable state was more than she could bear.
Before she could say more, Endo stepped forward, his demeanor smooth, “We’re sorry for the way we’re bringing your daughter in,” he said, his tone deliberately calm. “But I think we’d better take care of her first and then explain the situation.”
Your mother’s eyes flitted between Endo and Takiishi, the latter still holding you with unwavering care. Her maternal instincts and concern for your health won out over her anger. Though her expression remained tight, she nodded reluctantly. “Right,” she said, her voice trembling. “First, her health. Then we’ll talk.”
She opened the door wider, allowing them to step inside. As they entered, your mother instructed, her tone sharp but her eyes filled with a mix of desperation and worry. “You come with me,” She directed Chika to follow her, clearly intending to discuss the situation in private.
Endo, with his characteristic smirk, raised an eyebrow. “And, you don’t touch anything or think about it,” he looked around the beautifully decorated living room said, his voice dripping with casual menace. “Yes, ma’am.”
Your mother’s eyes narrowed at Endo, but she didn’t have the luxury of confronting him at the moment. Her priority was to ensure your safety and to understand what had happened. She led Takiishi to a quieter part of the house, her steps brisk and purposeful.
As Takiishi followed, he glanced back once more at you, his face a mask of determined concern. The weight of the night’s events hung heavy, but a promise to take care of you. The confrontation with Kirihito had left its scars, but for now, the focus was on you.
Your mother’s eyes held a fierce determination as she led Takiishi through the dimly lit hallway. The sound of your breathing, shallow and uneven, filled the silence between them. She opened the bathroom door, the light from the ceiling casting a soft glow in the small room.
Without hesitation, she motioned for him to place you gently into the bathtub. The porcelain surface seemed stark and cold, but it was necessary for what needed to be done. As he carefully set you down, your mother began to unfasten the straps of your dress with a practiced efficiency born of both urgency and care.
Takiishi stood by, his eyes never leaving you, he could see the pain and vulnerability you were exposed to, and it weighed heavily on him. His heart ached for you, and his mind was consumed with worry.
Seeing your mother struggling slightly, he stepped forward to assist. “Are you going to watch or help?” her words were not meant to be harsh but rather a nudge to refocus the task at hand.
Your mother, though tense, appreciated the help. Takiishi removed your shoes and helped her ease off your dress. As the garment fell away, leaving you in your underwear, your mother worked quickly to assess your wounds. Her hands were steady, though her eyes revealed the depth of her concern.
“Go to your friend downstairs,” she instructed. “I’ll call you when we need to carry her.” There was an unspoken agreement in her tone—a mutual understanding that your immediate care took precedence over everything else.
Takiishi nodded, his expression serious as he stepped back. He cast one last look at you, his heart heavy with the burden. The bathroom door closed behind him, leaving your mother to tend to you.
The silence in the bathroom was filled only with the soft sounds of water and the gentle rustling of fabric as your mother carefully cleaned your wounds. Each motion was precise, driven by her need to help you heal and to make sense of the situation. “I told you that you would get burned. But I am glad you are safe.” she saw the golden bracelet and removed it, you won't need it anymore, so she will sell it, it's gold after all.
Outside, Takiishi’s steps were swift but measured as he made his way back downstairs and saw Endo fast asleep on the couch. A short while later, your mother called him back to the bathroom. “We’re ready,” she said softly, as he stepped inside, she motioned to the sink. “Wash your hands first.”
Takiishi nodded, moving quickly to comply. The water ran cold at first, then warm as he scrubbed away the remnants of the foreign blood. With clean hands, he turned back to you, now dressed in a clean shirt and pants, looking so peaceful and divine despite the hell you went through.
Gently, he lifted you into his arms again, cradling you with a tenderness that was so unnatural for him. As he carried you through the hallway to your room, your mother followed closely, her eyes never leaving you. Maybe he's not so bad, she thought. She always remembered him and saw him as some bad kid, a big troublemaker, and no matter how much your mother kept you out of trouble, it always came to you. Takiishi Chika was a big problem, but your mother knew that he was your big love.
Once in your room, Takiishi laid you down on your bed his touch lingering on your face as he leaned in, his lips mere inches from yours. It was a kiss filled with all the emotions he couldn’t put into words—a kiss that, if your friends from first grade were here, would have made them giggle and say: I told you so, he was a prince!
He didn't know what was wrong with him or why he kept wanting to kiss you, he just knew that he could still taste your lipgloss when he kissed you for the first time. He was intoxicated. The only way he could get your attention was to be aggressive, that's what he was best at.
Just as his lips were about to touch yours, a gentle cough came from the doorway. “You, go shower,” your mother said softly. “I will let you and your friend sleep for tonight, the least I can do.”
Takiishi pulled back, reluctantly tearing himself away from you. He stood up and moved past your mother, who still commanded a certain presence that made him respect her, even if he’d never admit that she scared him when he was four. “I put my husband’s clothes out for you. And thank you,” she added, her voice sincere. If you wonder where your dad was, he was probably in a deep slumber, hard to wake up. But he will surely be more than grateful when he finds out what happened.
In the bathroom, Takiishi showered quickly, washing away the blood and sweat of the night. The warm water was soothing, providing a momentary escape from the weight of the past. Once clean, he dressed in the clothes your mother had left for him—simple, comfortable, and clean a contrast to the violence and tension he had just endured.
Returning to your room, he found it quiet and dimly lit. Your mother had left some food and water on a small table, a silent gesture of care. Takiishi approached the bed, his heart softening at the sight of you, as he already let you in it. He laid down next to you, careful not to disturb your rest. His fingers played gently with your hair, the soft strands a comforting distraction. You are pretty, inside and out.
He pulled you into his arms, holding you close. He didn't care that you were so close, and he probably didn't care that he loved you. Leaving you one last kiss on your lips, before falling asleep as he already fell for you thirteen years ago. You are mine. And he was yours.
The next morning, you wake up feeling extremely tired, your body sore and aching. A sharp pain shot through your hand as you tried to move it, reminding you of the events of the previous night. Groggy and disoriented, you attempted to sit up but found yourself unable to move. Someone’s arms were wrapped around you, holding you securely in place.
Panic surged through you, and you instinctively opened your mouth to scream, but before any sound could escape, a hand gently but firmly covered your mouth.
“Shut up and sleep,” a familiar voice murmured in your ear. It was Takiishi Chika.
His voice, though commanding, had a hint of softness to it. The initial shock started to fade as you realized who it was. The memories of the previous night began to flood back—Kirihito’s betrayal, Takiishi’s rescue, and the tender care he had shown you. Your breathing steadied as you processed the situation. He was in your bed, under the same blanket, your bodies closer than ever,
“We didn’t do anything, right?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you gulped. The question hung in the air, filled with a mix of apprehension and hope.
Takiishi didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he rested his head gently against your shoulder, his warm breath brushing your skin. “No,” he finally said, his voice sleepy and hoarse. “We didn’t.”
Relief washed over you. It felt strange, like there was no weight pulling you back, free from the chains that were made of lies. You were ready to say those three words to the person who deserved them. “I love you, Chika,” you whispered. The way you said his name, instead of his surname or whatever nickname, felt intimate and personal. It made him feel strange. I love you. He was still learning, still getting used to you. To being soft, to feeling, to showing—to love. It was unfamiliar territory for him, but the sincerity in your voice and the trust you placed in him stirred something deep within.
As you closed your eyes, you felt his grip tighten briefly, a silent promise of protection and care, drifting back to sleep, Takiishi watched over you, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. He didn’t fully understand what he was feeling, but he knew that he wanted to be there for you, to protect you, to make sure you never felt that kind of pain again. And in that moment, as he held you close, he vowed to do just that. Despite his broken state. He’s still yours.
You got your answer, even if you play with fire and get burned, love is the medicine that will cure you of the poison. Takiishi Chika made you feel loved for the first time.
nanami’s side of the bed wouldn’t even be called nanami’s anymore. you sleep there nearly every day, blaming it on how the pillows smell of him.
nanami’s clothes aren’t his anymore, you're sleeping in his shorts and t-shirt tonight. you wore his shirt yesterday, and took his ties for some clothes experiments last week.
nanami’s sacred pens are no longer his own, he finds them on the table after you tried to scribble up something and forgot to put them back.
nanami’s mugs are now shared, always in the dishwasher even when he doesn’t recall using them at all.
nanami’s thoughts don’t belong just to him anymore. you’d bug him about it all day if he doesn’t share what he’s thinking — so he, with an exasperated sigh, tells you what’s on his mind.
nanami’s salary doesn’t go straight to his savings account like it used to, instead taking a portion of it to spend on you. ‘you’ means gifts, flowers, dates, trips, trinkets, and so on.
nanami’s weekends aren’t as quiet as they once were; now they’re chaotic, full of so much of you.
nanami’s fridge is full nowadays. candy, leftovers, ice cream, cheese, cake, bread, and the list goes on. so many things that don’t go along with his diet fill the once-empty shelves.
nanami doesn’t spend as much time in his study as before you moved in. now old books are left to collect dust, long forgotten in a room that’s never lit. even when he decides to pick one up and read it, it’s the minute that he sees your face the book is tossed away.
nanami’s happiness still comes from days off, but now it’s because those days are spent with you. days when he slept long and ignores the world are long gone, now he gets to sit and focus on you, watching as everything else becomes nothing but background noise.
nanami has always been sure he’s not looking for marriage, at least not right now. but he swears that ring looks so perfect for you. there’s no way he’d miss it.
nanami stands in front of the bathroom mirror 5 minutes late every day because you’re still figuring out how to fix his tie the right way without any help. he can’t seem to rush you, though — what’s being precisely on time have on your little giggles as you sit on the sink and struggle to finish a task he could have done in under a minute?
nanami has been spending so much time eating as of late, more time than he can afford. while he used to finish a meal in approximately fifteen minutes, now dinners could stretch to two hours. he couldn’t get off the table early when you sit across from him, talking and joking and doing anything that’s not eating. he simply can’t possibly not indulge in the little conversations, appreciating every moment he gets to spend in your presence.
nanami’s life wouldn’t even be called his anymore. you’re a storm, invading his life all at once, bringing in your chaos along with you. you’ve infatuated him, you’ve assailed his senses and changed his very being. every time nanami’s eyes align with yours, he prays your presence isn’t a fleeting one. he silently hopes you don’t leave as suddenly as you came, that you plan to stay.
SYNOPSIS : Spending all your waking hours surrounded by rowdy boys in the biggest dojo in town, it’s no surprise that you grow up to be a skilled fighter with a fiery personality to match (you suppose it is one of your charms). You are the tempest incarnate, a force to be reckoned with — and Takiishi Chika can’t help but get swallowed up in your storm.
FEATURING : Takiishi Chika x f!reader
TL;DR : 3.6k words, badass!reader, chika can’t express himself, endo gets beat up (again), enemies to lovers, soft chika ftw, pining, jealous chika, things escalate quickly, slightly suggestive but you know i can’t write smut so i don’t, reader is both physically and mentally badass
NOTES : It’s here! (aka part 2 of my ‘get more people to join the Takiishi Chika nation’ agenda). Thank you for the ask, anon! You have no idea how excited I am to write a badass reader. The reader is written as a karate practitioner because that’s the only martial art I have experience with. Gosh after rereading this you can tell that this piece of writing holds a special place in my heart. This is written with love y’all. Anyway I have my own headcanon that the Wind Breaker boys must train at a dojo or a center somewhere, because there are only so many bad guys they can beat up, right? How else are they gonna get those EXP?! (Also, if you get that Tekken Chinmi reference, I LOVE YOU FOREVER!!)
“A challenger? What the fuck does that even mean?”
Nights at the dojo are spent by sitting on the floors, doing cooldowns and chatting about whatever interesting gossip circulates around the town. Tonight is no exception— you’re sitting cross legged on the mat that carpets your family dojo with your friends stretching not far away from you.
Sakura Haruka is the first one to answer, his eyes shining in excitement, “So one of our seniors heard that we train at your dojo, and somehow the news got to two real scary seniors! Their names are Takiishi Chika and Endo Yamato.”
“They’re bad news, really. Always out looking for a fight with anyone to scratch a weird fighting itch, I guess? They’re real delinquents.” Those words are harsh, especially when they came from the gentlest, kindest guy you knew, Umemiya Hajiime.
“Anyway, we just heard it from a friend of a friend. It might be a hoax for all we know.” Suo Hayato pipes up from behind you, massaging your tense shoulders with the ease of a seasoned masseur.
Your arched eyebrows have now relaxed thanks to Suo’s expert hands, but a slight annoyance is still visible on your features. “Well damn, I didn’t realize we’re living in the world of Tekken Chinmi. What, are they gonna destroy my place and steal the secret dojo technique if they win?”
“Huh? You have a secret technique?”
“I’m pretty sure she’s joking, Sakura…” At Nirei’s reply, Sakura’s face turned beet red. You laugh boisterously as the poor boy fumbles with his blue belt.
“Anyway, I’m pretty sure the old man won’t let me kick their asses if they really do come.” You are unable to mask your disappointment and your friends’ expressions start to turn into worried ones.
“(Y/N)...” Umemiya warns, “Whatever you’re thinking in that head of yours, stop. They’re actually really strong.”
“As strong as you?” Smirking, you take a jab at him, to which he barely dodged. Even though he may not look like it, you’ve experienced first hand how strong Umemiya is in a fight. Belt rankings sometimes don’t mean a thing when it comes to real fighting, and Umemiya is a surprisingly seasoned fighter. (The current record is 11-10, but you’re aiming to get it to a 11-11 at least by the end of this month.)
“One of them is too emotional and reckless, but the other one?” Umemiya trails off, as if thinking about something from long ago, “He’s crazy strong.”
You raise an eyebrow, now thoroughly interested. Umemiya Hajime with his pretty face and eerie calmness is a real pain in the ass to fight during kumite, being one of the only guys in the dojo to actually beat you, who have been training since you were a toddler. So for that kind of guy to say that someone is ‘crazy strong’? It certainly rouses your curiosity.
“Anyway, why are you guys not heading home already?”
Like a cue, the doors are slammed open, the chilly night wind invading the warm dojo air. You shiver involuntarily as the cool breeze tickles the part of your neck that is not covered by your gi. Everyone turns their head to look at the visitor, and they certainly have mixed reactions.
Sakura and Nirei let out a full gasp. Suo stays silent, even though his eyes are bulging out from his skull. Umemiya growls, a displeased scowl on his face. You, on the other hand, are puzzled upon seeing a boy with messy black hair standing at the door. A loose black yukata envelops his muscular body that is covered with tattoos, and his blue eyes are locked on you.
“Hey, can I help you?” You wanted to cuss him out for not immediately closing the door, but your father has always told you to be kind to potential customers. So you roll your eyes, bite back your ‘fuck you’s, and ask him in the most sarcastic tone possible: “And can you close the door, please? It’s literally November.”
The boy’s lips twist up to form a cheshire grin as he studies you, ignoring the four glares that are directed at him. “You’re the owner of this dojo, yeah?”
You roll your eyes again. “Too bad for me, my old man’s still alive and kickin’. And too bad for you, he’s out right now. What business do you have with him?”
He chuckles, a low tone that definitely spells trouble. “Nah, it’s you I have business with. That belt of yours, is it real or is it just for decoration?”
Your eyes glance down at the two-striped black belt that hugs your waist snugly. You have worked your ass off to get to where you are, all the blood, sweat, and tears that carried you from a white belt to an officially recognized nidan— not just a black belt, but a black belt of the second degree. It’s fairly new, too, the excitement that you got from receiving it a week ago is still not completely gone.
“What’s it to you?”
Your friends tense up next to you. They’ve seen you try not to stir up a fight, but with the way the situation is progressing…
“(Y/N), this is one of the seniors we were talking about.” Nirei whispers in a pleading tone, hoping to calm you down. It only riles you up.
“Oh, nothing. I seem to have exhausted all the fighters in town and I remembered that there’s still one place I haven’t gone to. Maybe my opponent won’t disappoint me this time?” The challenge is clear in his voice. With every step he takes, your eyes only narrow even further. You are now standing face to face with him, looking at him squarely in the eye, like two tigers sizing up each other.
“If you’re looking for a fight, I suggest you do it elsewhere. This is no place for your egotistical, frivolous hobby.” Despite the itch in your arms to deliver a blow straight to his smirking face, you still try to honor your father’s wishes not to start petty fights, especially not in the dojo.
“Oooh, you scared? Wanna call daddy? But I bet I’d beat him up too.”
There is a deafening silence. Even with all the playful banter, a normal human being should know that there are some lines that you cannot cross. But the damn idiot took a big stride across the fucking line. Your friends are watching mutely with mouths hanging open as your last strand of patience finally snaps.
Oooh. He is so gonna get it.
“Is that so? Very well, you started it. Don’t go crying to mommy when you lose.”
He’s visibly pleased to see that he’s successfully angered you. “Endo Yamato, by the way.”
“Boy, you won’t even remember your name by the time I’m done with you.”
And with that, you grab fistfuls of his black yukata and knee him straight in the gut.
Takiishi Chika isn’t sure what to think when Endo Yamato limps to him that afternoon, lip cut and cheeks bruised. He knows that for all the bullshit Endo spews out he would certainly get into real trouble someday, but he has always thought that Endo is not that bad of a fighter. A bad judge of character, yes, but not a bad fighter.
So why is he clutching his right arm and wincing in pain like he’s just got back from war?
“... what happened to you?”
Endo stops in front of him and winces again as he looks down at his arm. It is now sporting a bluish-purple bruise. He can’t even stand straight because his stomach is still pulsing uncomfortably. “That damned girl…”
“Girl?”
“From the damned dojo… the one I told you about yesterday…”
Takiishi hums in acknowledgement, recalling the same dojo Endo has been blabbing excitedly about. ‘Apparently,’ he had said, ‘it’s where the Furin guys go. And get this, get this, they practice with the owner’s daughter! Ha!’ he had snorted, ‘Bet I can beat her up in less than ten seconds, what a joke.’
Warily, Takiishi sweeps his gaze over Endo. The minor cuts on his face are probably from a sharp nail. The bleeding lip, a punch? The bruises are most probably from powerful punches. The way he is limping like that, he definitely got his footing sweeped. He blinks when Endo hunches over more; yup, definitely kneed in the gut. What a joke.
“Stronger than Umemiya?”
“More or less the same… I think.”
Takiishi has guessed as much, with the way Endo is struggling to speak. He doesn’t really care about avenging Endo, the weakling blabbermouth, but this girl he is speaking of is certainly interesting. He can feel his heart thrum in excitement. A girl as strong as Umemiya Hajime? Now that’s someone he should definitely meet.
“Aw, I missed all the fun stuff!” Hiragi Toma groans, holding his head in his hands. Your four friends have made it their life mission to tell the world about the showdown at the dojo yesterday, and now everyone at Furin High knows your name, your dojo, and how you kicked Endo Yamato’s irritating ass.
Kaji Ren offers you a lollipop, and you take it gratefully, unwrapping it before plopping it into your mouth. Your sides still hurt slightly from the harsh kick you received from the asshole, but you’re otherwise fine. You have expected Endo to be crazy strong, but once you one-upped him a bit, he instantly loses all rationality and ends up crumpled up beneath you. Pathetic ass.
“You okay? Does it still hurt? Ugh, how can I face your father now?!” Umemiya groans. You can tell from his face that he’s proud and satisfied of your victory, but also worried sick. It doesn’t help that your dad has made him the person in charge of looking after you. Something about you being a troublemaker who needs a reliable person to take care of you, and blah blah blah. Mostly, Umemiya is your childhood friend and he can be overprotective when he’s not handing you your ass at the dojo.
“Calm down, it’s just a small bruise.” Truth be told, it hurts a lot more than you let on. (As if you’d let your friends know that.)
“You need to take care of yourself more.” Great, now Kaji of all people is lecturing you too. You pout at him, about to make a snide comeback, before you bump into Sakura’s back. Noticing that Sakura and your friends have now stopped walking to look straight ahead, you peek from behind Sakura’s shoulders to see yet another stranger.
In just one glance, you can tell that this person is a lot stronger than the weirdo who stormed your dojo. Standing just a few centimeters shorter than Umemiya, the golden-eyed boy is openly staring at you. His orange-red hair contrasts the dark attire he wears. Before anyone can say anything, he is already marching to your direction, a murderous aura heavy on the air. Sakura is the first to react, protectively shielding you from the other’s advances.
Your blood runs cold when he gets smacked away. Hard. Sakura stumbles, instantly supported by Suo and Nirei before he falls down. You snap your eyes to the stranger, anger flaring like a wildfire. “You’re the other one, aren’t you?” Halting his movements, he merely grins like a maniac at your question.
This time Umemiya is the one who steps in front of you, eyebrows knitted and lips pursed in a thin line. “Takiishi. What do you think you’re doing?” Kaji and Hiragi quickly move to shield you as well, shoulders squared.
The four guys are now having a staring showdown with neither of them backing down. But what they don’t realize is how furious you are. Sliding from behind Umemiya, you face this ‘Takiishi’. “You wanna get your ass handed to you like your little friend yesterday?” Despite Suo’s pleas to calm down, you press on. “Wait, are you here to avenge him?”
Your mocking laugh doesn’t affect him in the slightest. “He’s weak.” He simply states, and you did a double take at how nonchalant he sounds. “It’s too noisy. I’ll find you when you’re alone.” Without waiting for an answer, Takiishi leaves.
Scrunching up your nose, you merely smirk. “When I’m alone, huh? I’ll be waiting for you.”
By now, all your friends are giving you pleading looks for you to stop, but you’re too annoyed to care. You’ll deal with his cocky ass when the time comes, but right now you’re focused on making sure Sakura’s okay.
Takiishi keeps his promises when he saunters to you on a swelteringly hot afternoon. He still wears the same black jacket from before. Even with the jacket on, you can tell he has a muscular build. The calculated steps he takes are intimidating, too. He wastes no time for words, quickly throwing you a powerful punch.
You’re able to dodge it, but you’re not so lucky with his next strike. A jab to your sides in the same spot that Endo bruised. Grimacing in pain, you take a few steps back, mentally cursing at your carelessness.
This asshole doesn’t pull his punches.
Within a few moments into the fight, you can already tell that he’s much stronger than you. His long hair and long clothes don’t seem to hinder his movements because he keeps launching strike after strike, each one more agile than before. After taking a few too many punches, you’re now racking your brains trying to come up with tactics to destroy this guy. Unlike your stoic father, you’re comfortable with trying every dirty trick in the book if it means guaranteeing your victory. Real life is different from competitions, after all.
“What a waste.” You spit out after taking a few steps back to catch your breath. “Got a pretty face, but your personality is shit.” He’s visibly surprised and you seize the moment to land a powerhouse kick, effectively sending him stumbling. Grinning at your small victory, you continue. “Stop this nonsense and maybe I’ll let you take me out on a date, how about that?” Once again, he stiffens up, and you land another kick.
He seems to have finally learned his lesson, now glaring at you and fixing his stance. You giggle at his little frustration. “Aww, don’t pout like that, sweetheart. Just say you think I’m pretty and move on.”
“You’re pretty.” He nonchalantly says, and it’s your turn to be surprised. He instantly tackles you down, locking you with a death grip.
Words can’t describe how angry you are at being beaten with your own tactic. You manage to struggle free from his death grip, but he is still sitting on top of you. Realizing that his face is a little bit too close, you decide to take a gamble…
… and crash your lips into his.
Oh, he’s definitely surprised now, his posture laxing. You flip him on his back, your positions now reversed. Even when you pull away, he still stares up at you, arms at his sides. You try to gather his arms and pin it so you can pummel his face, but he won’t budge. For a second you debated on kissing him again, seeing how effective it renders him immobile, but he moves quicker.
He loops an arm behind your neck, bringing your face down before capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. His long hair splays under his head like a halo, his eyes surprisingly closed. You yelp and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, both of you now fighting for dominance under the hot sun.
There’s an indecipherable tension when the two of you pull away. “You’re mine now.” Takiishi unexpectedly says first, his eyes never leaving yours.
You tilt your head in defiance, a smirk on your lips. “Am I?”
Takiishi quickly learns that even though there is an undeniable spark between the two of you, you’re not someone he can tame easily. After kissing him hotly on the mouth, you had kicked him again in the exact same spot as before, grinning and telling him that it was payback. He wakes up the next morning with a purple bruise.
He still doesn’t understand why on earth he ends up chasing you around in the hopes of kissing you again instead of fighting you, but all he knows is that he beat up Endo for talking shit about you and he feels ready to burn the world down when he sees Umemiya sling an arm around you. Or when Suo makes you laugh with his jokes. Or when you take a lollipop from Kaji. Or when you baby the damn brat, Sakura.
For some reason, your friends don’t really care about him showing up anymore. Perhaps you told them that he’s harmless around you now, he doesn’t really care. All he wants is to feel that dizzying feeling again. He watches you go about your day, stirring up trouble and beating up bad guys on the street, laughing and running with your friends. And at nights, after a fun day of hanging out, you stride to him with a ravenous look in your eyes, pulling him by his collar to give him his reward.
Endo tells him that you’re just using him, but he doesn’t mind.
“You,” Takiishi growls in between kisses, “are mine.” His jacket is thrown away somewhere, leaving him with his turtleneck. Your hand shoots forward to caress his face, and despite the alarm bells ringing in his head, he finds himself leaning into your touch. The moonlight shines down, illuminating your face with an ethereal glow. He watches you breathlessly, admiring his work on your neck. Seeing his bite marks there only fuels his possessiveness as he captures both your wrists and pins them on top of your head. Even without saying anything, you’re able to rile him up this much… and you look so unaffected. It’s hardly fair.
He leans down again, hearing you giggle. “Am I?”
He feels a prick of irritation at your brattiness. He uses his free hand to wrap it around your throat, and you resisted the urge to laugh. He barely squeezes. “Oh, you’re choking me-” Faking a pained moan, your eyes light up in amusement when he immediately loosens his already-loose grip, his eyes widening in shock. Oh, what a cutie.
“Then stop annoying me.”
“Huh? You’re so mean to me, how do you expect me to like you back, huh?” Once again, you used your best sad face. You don’t think you’re a very good actress, but you know what they say: love is blind— and Takiishi Chika is blindly in love.
There’s a conflicted look in Takiishi’s eyes and you giggle again, craning your neck upwards. His hand is still around your throat when you peck his cheek. “Just kidding.”
Oh, you are going to be death of him.
Takiishi knows that you like him too. You had to be, with the way you tease and act around him, the way you instantly go to him the second you finish practice, sometimes still in your gi as he rips it off from you to mark your body again. Takiishi is certain that you like him too, so why..? Why do you insist on making him jealous?
He watches from a distance, body coiled up like a spring, ready to pounce at Umemiya freaking Hajime who has his arms around your waist, guiding you down to sit. Suo is telling another one of his shitty jokes again, making you laugh like an angel, while Sakura is glued to your side like a baby, blushing everytime your hand grazes his’. He watches each interaction, fuming, with a silent Endo by his side.
He knows he’s being irrational. He’s not even your boyfriend, and you were supposed to be enemies. He thinks. He doesn’t really understand anything anymore. What he knows is how much he wants to beat up your friends, and how much he holds it back because he knows you will hate him for it. He doesn’t want you to hate him. Anything but that.
Umemiya whispers something in your ear, before lifting up his gaze to meet his own mockingly. You follow Umemiya’s gaze and tilt your head at him teasingly, as if the hickey on your neck wasn’t given by him the night before. He feels his breath getting hotter as Endo shifts in his seat uncomfortably.
But he knows how much you hate it when he storms in front of your friends, so he stills himself. He’ll get his reward later. He can wait. He takes out his phone to type a warning to you. Not that you usually care.
You’re mine.
Read 6.29 PM
He watches a smirk curl on your lips as you type a short reply.
Am I?
Read 6.30 PM
Meanwhile, you shudder in your seat at how intently Takiishi is watching you, his gaze practically boring holes into you. You force yourself to shift your attention to your friends again, who thinks that you managed to beat him up and now he won’t dare to disturb you. They have no idea that Takiishi has been taking special care of you almost every night now. You’re not ready to sort and come to terms with your feelings right now, not when Takiishi himself hasn’t even manned up and asked you out.
So you lean back into Umemiya’s embrace, laughing with Sakura, Suo and Nirei, talking about underrated songs with Kaji and Hiragi, snapping photos with Kiryu. You decide to make the best of the moment, because you know that you won’t be able to walk by the time Takiishi is done with you tonight.
It's more than a little difficult to hide your attraction to the Vice-Captain of the Third Division when you accidentally find yourself sparring with him in your pajamas in the middle of the night.
Especially when he's wearing that goddamn shirt.
wc: 4k
c: 18+ ONLY, smut, slight power imbalance, semi-public sex, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), edging, unprotected p in v
“You get sloppy when you’re tired.”
A knee digs into the back of your own as you find yourself pinned face down on the training mats, the steady grip of a hand trapping both of your wrists against the small of your back. The vice-captain’s voice is tinged with amusement as he lets you go, easily dodging the kick you send his way as you roll in the opposite direction and jump to your feet, breathing hard.
“Fuck you,” you pant out, though there’s no real heat behind your words.
He raises an eyebrow.
“—Vice-Captain Hoshina,” you finish, offering him a patronizing smile.
Clicking his tongue against his teeth, Hoshina begins to circle you slowly, “Officer Furuhashi had to do seventy pushups last week for that, ya know.”
While he’s not wrong about your sloppy footwork, the late hour is hardly the top contender of blame for your piss-poor performance in this impromptu sparring match.
Rather, the real issue at hand is the workout shirt that Hoshina’s currently wearing, the black, skin-tight material leaving little to the imagination as it clings to his firm, defined abdomen.
Clad in nothing but your pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt, you had made the mistake of slowing down to peek into the slightly ajar door to the training room on your way back to the dorms, curious who was still awake at such a late hour. Your breath had hitched at the sight of the vice-captain working through a series of complex sword maneuvers by himself, mouth going dry as you found yourself mesmerized by the sight of his bare hands and arms—features normally obscured by his suit on the field—and that goddamn shirt.
Naturally, he’d spotted you lingering and cajoled you inside, mouth curving sideways in a smirk as he reminded you of a few glaring mistakes you’d made earlier during training with the squad.
Now, your level of exhaustion is a moot point when it’s all you can do to reign in the traitorous swell of desire building in your chest as the sleeves of his shirt dig into his biceps each and every time he moves. The muscle that keeps fighting against the high neck of his shirt isn’t helping, either.
This heady, insistent tug you feel toward him, this dizzying, smoldering attraction that has a penchant for clouding your better judgment—it’s nothing new. Your eyes developed this unfortunate habit of instinctually straying to the vice-captain the day he volunteered to give you a tour of the base when you transferred to the Third Division, a problem that only increased tenfold the first time you had a front row seat to his…competency in dual swordsmanship.
(It’s borderline embarrassing—the way even thinking about him wielding those blades sets your heart racing.)
You’ve learned to ignore it, despite the flirtatious undercurrent to each and every interaction you share.
And yet—sparring alone with him right now while the rest of the base sleeps, sweat dripping down your back as your skin burns all over with the ghost of his touch, seeing this stripped down version of one of the Defense Force’s most lethal weapons in a moment that feels far more intimate than it has any right to be…it’s difficult to remember why you should.
Hoshina uses his forearm to wipe the perspiration from his forehead, tongue darting out along his bottom lip, and a subtle shudder runs through you as you track the unconscious movement. Unfortunately, his keen eyes don’t miss the trajectory of your waning focus, and he takes advantage of the opening, the room quickly spinning as you find yourself on the floor beneath him once again.
This time, you’re lying on your back, both hands pinned above your head, his fingers incidentally laced with your own. Hoshina’s wide-eyed and panting, and you can tell you at least accomplished something—he clearly hadn’t been intending to hit the floor with you until your survival instincts kicked in enough to gracelessly drag him down on top of you.
As you go to pull free, you find something solid pressed between your legs, and it’s an effort in and of itself to stifle your gasp at the feeling that instantly curls hotly in your gut at the friction. Belatedly, you reorient yourself to find that you had hooked your left leg around his waist during the fall, and the firm wall of muscle that you’re two seconds from accidentally dry humping is his thigh that’s slotted between your legs.
Hoshina’s face sobers as he stares down at you, and you swear you feel his fingers flex minutely against your own, his expression now unreadable.
Seemingly continuing his earlier thought, he muses, “Well, I guess I get sloppy when I’m distracted.”
Your heart thunders in your chest as you find yourself balancing precariously on the tightrope of what could very well be an incredibly bad decision.
If you were smart, you’d let this moment pass.
If you were smart, you’d tap out and tell him you’re going to bed, letting out the rest of your frustration with a hand between your legs, your soft, quiet moans muffled by the spray of the shower water or the layers of your duvet.
But the words are wrestling their way past your teeth before you can stop yourself as you ask, “What could possibly distract the vice-captain of the Third Division?”
He laughs under his breath, and for a wild moment, you think he’s about to kiss you when he leans in, but his lips skirt the shell of your ear instead as he murmurs, “You don’t normally wear this when we’re trainin’ with everyone else.”
Hoshina’s lower half nudges you slightly for emphasis, his hands still occupied by your own, and you belatedly realize—with embarrassment—that you’re the one now essentially holding them in the grip of your fingers. However, the thought is quickly replaced by another jolt of pleasure as the movement presses his thigh just a hair more firmly against the heat between your legs.
At the slight widening of his eyes, you also realize something else—that soft, little moan in your head wasn’t so silent after all.
He tilts his head and sighs, “You make this real difficult for me sometimes.”
You’re far too aware of every place your bodies are touching.
“What do I make difficult?” you ask carefully, surprising yourself with your boldness.
He regards you with a look like you should already know what he’s referring to. “Ignoring the things I think about when I’m around you.”
Your mouth goes dry, a polar opposite to the arousal now soaking into your panties. “Maybe you should stop ignoring them,” you whisper before you can think better of it.
Hoshina groans, fingers tightening around yours, eyes falling shut. “Don’t say that.”
Freeing one of your hands from their entanglement with his, you reach up, pushing his dark violet locks out of his face. “Why not?”
He leans in, mouth so close to yours you can feel the heat of his exhales as he murmurs, “Cause I might be the vice-captain of this division, but I’m not above fucking you right here on the floor.”
Heat sears insistently in your lower abdomen, and you shift just enough to press into him again. He audibly breathes out through his nose, and you tilt your head slightly askew as you stare up at him. “Are you asking me to beg, then?”
You’re suddenly very grateful to have unconsciously pulled the door shut behind you when you walked in, given that this training room can only be opened from the outside with an authorized key fob after hours.
Hoshina laughs a little incredulously under his breath, tongue curling against the inside of his cheek. “I’ll make you a deal.”
You raise a brow, imploring him to continue.
“We’ll forget about those pushups for that mouth of yours, but…” he trails off, one finger ghosting over your lips. “You don’t get to come until I say so.”
It’s instant—the way your brain briefly short circuits as you take in the full meaning of his words.
“I—what?”
He smirks. “You might be one of the most talented officers in this division, but your patience could really use some work.”
Well, he’s not wrong.
Smiling up at him sweetly, you shift so that your leg presses against the erection noticeably tented at the front of his pants. “Then teach me.”
You’re not prepared for it—the way all of the air leaves your lungs when Hoshina’s lips come crashing into yours. There’s no pretense to the way he claims your mouth, swallowing down the tiny little gasp that crawls up your throat, one hand cupping the side of your neck as the other reaches out to pin both of yours back to the floor. You push back a little, just for the thrill that arches down your spine when he tightens his grip, pinning you down even harder.
His tongue dances along the seam of your lips, thumb stroking the sensitive spot where your neck meets your jaw, and he groans a little when you part them, deepening the kiss. A blistering wave of arousal floods your veins as Hoshina does what can only be described as fucking his way into your mouth with his tongue, and you’re helpless to control how eagerly you take him in. Truthfully, you’ve never felt quite so turned on over the taste of someone else’s saliva, so desperate to feel the filthy, slick slide of their tongue and lips slotting and tangling with your own.
It takes you a minute to realize that you’ve started grinding against his thigh, but clearly he’s well aware, because as soon as you stop, he murmurs against your mouth, “Go ahead, keep going.”
Compiling without hesitation, you drag your clothed pussy down against the friction of his leg once more, and he bites down on your lip as you moan at the delicious sensation.
“Does that feel good?” he asks coyly.
You nod, losing any lingering senses of embarrassment over dry humping your vice-captain’s leg as you observe the way his pupils are blown wide with lust, gasping and panting as you rut against him even harder. Panties damp with arousal, you wouldn’t be surprised to find a wet spot forming against his pants, as you can already feel the surplus of sticky fluid dripping down your ass cheeks.
You could come like this.
“Stop.”
Freezing immediately at the tone of Hoshina’s voice, you open your half-lidded eyes to stare up at him, lips parted slightly.
“Didn’t say you could come yet,” he reminds you, expression tinged with amusement. “But show me how wet you are.”
He releases your hands, and you nearly whimper when he pulls his knee away, shifting to place his knees on either side of you. He slides both hands down your sides, stopping at your hips, and he trails two fingers along the waistband of your shorts, curling one of the short, loose strings around a digit before continuing his journey down your mound.
A hum of satisfaction leaves his lips as he feels the way your juices have soaked clear through the little cotton shorts. You whine in frustration when he drags a slow, deliberate circle over your swollen clit through the fabric, rocking your hips upward.
Hoshina looks like he wants to say something, possibly to chide you for your impatient behavior, but clearly the other thought in his head wins out when he slides his hand up the bottom of your shorts and hooks a finger in your underwear, tugging them aside.
Despite his teasing, the pressure of his fingers through your clothing is still nothing compared to the feather-light touch of his fingers drifting down the length of your slit.
“Fuck,” he murmurs softly in approval, sliding one digit into your wet hole.
Your pussy spasms at the sensation, and you moan for him, which only spurs him on further, earning you a second finger. The stretch still isn’t enough, and you buck your hips into his touch eagerly.
“How the fuck are you so wet,” he mutters, one hand slipping up your shirt to clutch your side as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, the lewd, wet squelch contending with the rising volume of your moans.
It’s impressive—how close you are to coming already with just two of his fingers massaging your slick, tight walls, his thumb barely teasing over the bud of your throbbing clit. It’s nearly laughable compared to how long it took the last man who touched you to get you off.
“You look so pretty when you’re about to come,” Hoshina comments, curling his fingers inside of you, and you gasp.
He swiftly removes them, lips curling upward at the dismayed look on your face as you cant your hips upward into nothing, the wave of pleasure building inside of you unceremoniously crashing at the breakers before reaching the shore.
“Hoshina,” you whimper, not caring if it sounds a little pathetic as your chest heaves.
“I thought we were working on your patience,” he replies, before sticking your fingers in his mouth and licking your slick arousal clean off of them.
The warmth stirring inside of you turns molten, and your nipples feel achingly hard against the cotton fabric of your t-shirt. When he reaches down to cup your chin, your mouth falls open of its own volition, and you don’t hesitate to take his spit-soaked fingers between your lips instead.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes out as you suck on the digits, a thin trail of saliva escaping in the process and dribbling past your lips.
You reach up, threading your fingers into his hair, and you tug his mouth down toward yours. He strays off course, licking the spit from your chin and dragging his tongue across your lips.
He follows the curve of your jaw with his mouth, lips blazing a trail of kisses down the side of your neck until he begins to nip and suck at your collarbone while his hands slide down to ruck up your t-shirt. He seems pleased by your lack of a bra, eyes darkening at the sight of your plush breasts bared before him. His fingers are precise as they cup one, thumb slowly dragging across your peaked nipple before he leans in and laps at the supple, sensitive skin.
You arch upward into his touch, gasping out his name, and he groans, taking your peaked bud into his mouth. Despite the fact that you know he won’t let you finish, you reach between your legs anyway, keening as you dip two fingers into your empty, wet cunt while Hoshina turns his attention to filthily sucking on your other breast. Legs spreading wider against the cage of his own, you plunge a third finger in, and Hoshina makes a displeased sound, mouth abandoning your tits to trail down your stomach.
“D’you think of me when you touch yourself?” he asks with a hint of amusement in his voice, his hands gently pulling yours away from between your legs before sliding off your shorts and panties.
“Maybe,” you pant out, fingers now pressing down into the soft mats beneath you.
“Maybe?” he echoes, nose brushing against your clit.
He pauses, and you can feel the warm huff of air that hits your slit as you whimper a strangled “Yes” when he lazily begins to slide a single finger back into your needy cunt.
Another fresh thrill of arousal shudders through you as he calmly replies, “Good girl,” before he spreads your legs even wider and drags his tongue through your folds.
You blink back the spots from the bright ceiling lights that dance against your eyelids as your entire body arches upward off of the mats, the grip of his hands on the globes of your ass the only thing keeping you grounded as Hoshina groans lewdly at the taste of your pussy, lapping another broad, hungry stroke,
You’d do anything to come at this point, tears now pricking at the corners of your eyes as another blazing hot onslaught of pleasure trickles through your limbs, ruthlessly dragging you toward the edge.
He abruptly stops again, his lips covered in the slick sheen of your arousal when he looks up at you.
“Hoshina, please,” you whimper.
“Soshiro,” he exhales roughly, hips aligning with yours as he makes his way up your body to press a wet, filthy kiss to your lips.
“Soshiro,” you repeat a little breathlessly, and he kisses you again, more roughly this time.
You can feel his thick erection as it presses down against your naked mound through his pants, and there’s little you can do to hold back your urge to roll your hips upward, dragging your wet, naked heat along his shaft.
“Soshiro,” you say again, more desperately this time, and he groans, grinding back down against you with more fervor at the sound of his name on your lips.
Slipping a hand between your bodies, your fingers fumble with the button of his pants, and he’s quick to take over, making quick work of the zipper. He guides your hand to his dick, wrapping your fingers around its thick girth as he asks, “You wanna feel this inside of you?”
The mere suggestion makes your woefully empty walls clench, and you can feel a fresh dribble of arousal leak from you. Giving his cock a few experimental pumps, you nod feverishly.
“Put it in then,” he murmurs, and there’s something undeniably erotic about the way he lazily stares down at you, waiting.
You guide his shaft toward your slick cunt, rejoicing just a bit in the slight shudder that wracks through him as you rub the flushed, leaking head of his cock against your slippery folds, his precum mixing with the lubrication of your wet juices.
If you thought you were desperate to come on his fingers and tongue, the heady buzz of need that’s been steadily buzzing inside of you is nothing compared to the gushing flood of desperation at the feeling of Hoshina’s length splitting you open. You’re a little too tight for him, but it feels so good—the way he replaces your hand with his own to stuff his cock the rest of the way inside of you. Your cunt greedily clenches down on each inch until you’re suddenly empty again.
Hoshina—Soshiro—fucks like he fights: all teasing, taunting confidence. Every move he makes is pointed, purposeful. So you know he’s left you woefully empty now solely to bask in your frustrated reaction, just to hear your subsequent gasp of pleasure when he plunges back inside of you once more.
You’re so fucking sensitive right now, it’s ridiculous—white-hot bursts of pleasure ignite in your abdomen with every little push and drag of the shape of his cock against the plush, tight grip of your cunt.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he hisses, exhaling roughly as he pulls out of you entirely once more, firmly gripping the base of his cock like he’s just as close to coming as you are.
Leaning down, Hoshina drags his lips across yours in some messy approximation of a kiss, his breath hot against your cheek as his mouth veers off. Turning your head to the side, you nip at his bottom lip, and he molds his mouth to yours, tongue slipping into your mouth.
Your muscles tense with anticipation as you feel the heavy weight of his cock pressing against your cunt, your ass lifting off of the mat to chase the friction with brazen need. But Hoshina’s hand slips between your bodies, fingers wrapping around his shaft, and he positions himself lengthwise with your slit.
Any sounds of protest promptly die in your throat, only to be replaced by a wanton moan that Hoshina swallows down as he deepens the kiss while he begins to roll his hips, sliding his throbbing cock up and down through your drenched, sticky folds.
“Oh fuck,” you gasp, fingers digging into his back as you writhe beneath him, nearly seeing stars each time the head of his dick catches against your sensitive, swollen clit.
There’s a thin line of spit between your lips as he breaks the kiss, watching you burn from the inside out with relentless, intoxicating tremors of pleasure.
“Not yet,” Hoshina murmurs, slowing the rocking of his hips as he lines himself with your quivering entrance once more. “When I make you come, it’ll be on my cock.”
When he buries himself inside of you this time, you choke out a sob, the ache between your thighs reaching a fever pitch as he stuffs your pussy full to the hilt. And you swear he must feel the way your cunt is gripping him—begging him to stay buried deep inside of you, to finally let you cream all over his cock—because he sounds wrecked as he roughly moans your name against your mouth.
One of his hands slides along your arm, fingertips lacing with yours as the other cups your breast, his thumb teasing your nipple.
“You feel so fucking good,” he exhales, eyes wide, his hair far more mussed than you’ve ever seen it on the battlefield.
Despite the protest of your trembling, tightly-wound limbs, you wrap your legs around his waist, keening as you use the heel of your foot to press him even deeper inside of you and pant out, “Harder.”
He doesn’t hesitate to oblige, his steady strokes turning rough when he begins to pound into you, a litany of curses tumbling from his lips as your tits shake with each snap of his hips.
You’re so fucking close—and you know he feels it, how fucking badly you want to give in to this torrential downpour of pleasure that’s threatening to drag you under.
“Come for me,” he finally commands in a sultry, gravelly tone that you’re certain will fucking haunt your wet dreams for years to come.
It’s not difficult to obey—not when your entire body has been reduced to a dripping, trembling, desperate coil of tension, slipping along the tightrope of a tauntingly close climax for far too long. Shockwaves of the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt grip every nerve ending from head to toe as your climax erupts, and Hoshina’s groan is downright filthy as he feels your pussy gush all over his cock.
“Shit,” he pants out, muscles tensing hard as you ride out your orgasm, eyes falling shut while your cunt spasms and contracts against his shaft. “Shit, shit.”
You’ve only just finished when he quickly pulls his cock from your quivering hole and groans loudly, barely giving his shaft half a stroke before ropes of hot, thick cum are spurting all over your bare chest, spilling all over your tits.
It’s quiet as he sits there kneeling between your spread legs, chest heaving just as hard as yours as you try to wrap your head around what the fuck just happened. Subtly, you reach down to pinch your thigh, not quite convinced your late night waltz to the kitchen wasn’t just the product of a fucked up dream.
Hoshina shrugs off his shirt, hardly giving you time to ogle what the hell he’s been hiding beneath there before he begins wiping his cum off of your chest. When he’s finished, he stands, and you slip back into your clothes as you watch him ball up his soiled shirt and grab his jacket.
He pulls you to your feet, and the way his hands slide down your sides to smooth down your wrinkled t-shirt is oddly intimate, his fingers straying lower to briefly toy with the hem of your shorts. Instead of putting on his jacket to make up for his lack of a shirt, he reaches around you to settle it over your shoulders, the familiar, dizzying scent that you’ve come to associate with him enveloping your senses.
–
And when you accidentally wear his jacket to training the next morning, you find what must be a spare key card to his room left nestled in one of the pockets.
There’s a coy smile on his lips when he spots you staring down at the white piece of plastic, shrugging before he returns his attention to the rest of the gathered officers.
sakura haruka x reader (windbreaker) lovesick fools. I had a dream. don't look at me. cw: somnophilia. aged-up characters.
In a dream, you're floating.
Somewhere far above the clouds, you throw your arms open wide and relish in the feel of the wind on your cheeks. It's cool and crisp, like early spring, and you draws a deep breath to take it in and own it completely. But just as you begin to feel as if you could keep going higher and higher forever, you're falling- and it's just as exhilarating as the ascent.
Suddenly, your lungs don't work, but you're not afraid. And the faster you fall, the more you're aware that your body is sparkling, like a thousand tiny fireflies blinking on your skin. It's warm and tingling and wonderful in every way, and you don't want to wake up...but you do.
Carefully, as one unwraps a precious gift, you come to your senses. As if through a fog, you become aware of the hands that rest on your thighs, of the tangle of sheets across your middle. There's a pleasant flutter in your stomach, and when you train your bleary eyes on the unruly head of hair between your thighs, you smile a sleepy kind of smile.
The dream, you think to yourself, moaning softly when his tongue swipes your clit. He's focused - so focused - those brilliant eyes closed, brows raised as if to say please let me taste you forever. He's just as turned on by giving pleasure as you are receiving it, and it's the most beautiful sight in the world.
You moan again, a little louder this time, and Sakura trains his eyes on your face and laughs; it's more a huff of air than anything, but you don't miss the way his upturned lips light up his entire face. He licks again; his nose nudges your mound, and you push the back of your head into the pillow. The next sound that leaves your throat is guttural, primal- a low growl that curls his toes and makes him rut into the bed. It's an overwhelming need he suddenly experiences to be inside you, but he holds back for no other reason than to see you come first. Slow and sleepy, your body rolls as if it is upon the ocean, floating among the waves.
You breathe his name on an audible sigh that's an octave higher than your normal speaking voice, then weave your fingers through his hair; otherwise, you're certain you would float away and never return. Sakura pushes his palms under your knees and opens you wider, bowing your legs out upon the bed as he licks a little faster now. You tremble, the coil tightening, winding, building into what becomes a burst of color as your field of vision blurs around the edges and you tug at his hair that much harder. Soft hands grip harder on the tender skin of your legs, and he holds you in place while your hips buck into his face.
Ragged gasps echo off the walls around you, and you curse his name while he rides out your high until you're a twitching, whimpering mess.
He kisses each hip, then your belly button and upward, mouth dragging along your skin while he uses his nose to lift your shirt up over your breasts, where he laves over one nipple with his tongue while rolling the other between thumb and forefinger.
And before you can draw another full breath, he's inside you, his movements agonizingly slow. He pulls the sheet up over both your heads before claiming her mouth in a languid kiss.
"I love you," he breathes just before he loses control. Ankles hooked at the small of his back- your own spine arched to take his length fully- you coax him forth.
"I love you," you echo; and he comes, disbelieving of his luck. Of this angel who shares his bed. Of the love that you so willingly give without him ever having to ask.
Hi! Hopin' you having a nice day! ^^ Emmm, this is my very first time asking for this kinda thing so here I go.
How about a Kafka x reader in which reader is a little younger than him, she's a new recruit in the defence force and Kafka was assigned to be her superior so he can help reader in her development as a soldier. One night they stay up late "studying". After they finish, they realize the door is locked, they can leave now... It's up to you if you wanna end it spicy or fluff.
Sorry if this is too specific, I don't know how to ask for request. Thank you (and ignore if you don't want to).
teen+
summary: kafka has been put in charge of your training, you might mean more to him than just being his temporary student, and getting locked together in the library proves it.
warnings: the use of nickname for reader (hime-chan) because i want to be his princess, kissing. if i've missed any, please let me know!
word count: 1869
note: hello there! my day has been well so far, i hope yours is as well. and i really hope this is little story is okay! i wanted to make it spicy, but it just turned into mushy soft kafka and i couldn't help it. i do have another two requests that are of the spicy nature that i'm gonna use these two far. i hope that you will see if! thanks so much for your request. please excuse any errors, i tried my best to edit this myself! thanks again! <3
He was in your shoes once, he's told you. “But don't worry, Hime-chan, just stick with me and you'll be fine!” His confidence is infectious, nearly as much as his smile. You trusted Hibino Kafka the moment you were introduced, and you were sure you would never stop.
-
“They're at it again,” Kikoru sighs, side-eyeing the table next to her. “Can't you do something?” She nudges Reno with her foot underneath the table.
He sighs, daring to look over at the pair of you. “They're not bothering anyone,” he replies just before another giggle-fit starts at the table you’re sharing with Kafka where the pair of you are hunched over a notebook – your notebook, with your writing and your drawings. Who knows what you’ve scribbled down to make the pair of you titter like schoolgirls?
Eyebrow twitching, Kikoru sighs and gives in. “What are you two laughing about?”
Kafka straightens in his seat, his mouth trying to hold in his bubbling laughter. “Nothing, nothing.” His eyes drift to the wall before they widen. “Hime-chan, we're gonna be late for our training!” He jumps out of his seat, hands over your notebook, gathering all of your trash before he's rushing towards the door.
You scramble after him, shouting for him to wait. “Hibino-san! You're too fast,” you laugh, jogging after him out of the cafeteria.
“We’ll need to build your stamina then,” he grins when you finally catch up to him. You hate where your mind goes with that thought, the way that it makes your skin heat up and your step falter. It takes a moment for Kafka to realize what he said and he chokes on air. “Uh, what I mean is that… we need to make you faster and uh…”
“Hibino-san, I- I understood what you meant,” you assure him.
“Good,” he laughs nervously, “because that could mean a lot of things and I–”
“I know,” you stop him before he can make the situation any worse.
“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, Hime-chan,” he continues to ramble. “I mean, you’re a beautiful woman and anyone would be crazy not to–”
You blink up at him, your skin practically molten lava now. “You think I’m beautiful?”
“It wouldn’t be appropriate for–” Kafka pauses, stopping you both in the middle of the hallway on the way to the sparring room. “Yes, of course I do. You’re beautiful, smart, strong. You’ll be an amazing soldier,” he smiles softly. “You just need a bit more training is all.”
“And that’s why I have you,” you nod.
A soft blush lights up his cheeks, but he nods back, shoving a thumb to his chest. “Put your trust in me and I’ll get you on the right track.” His watch beeps, signaling the new hour and he gasps. “Oh no, we’re gonna be late.” He grabs your hand, which is dwarfed in his– large, warm, and calloused, but the perfect fit– and drags you the rest of the way.
-
“I know a lot of the others will say that this stuff isn’t important,” he says as he flips through one of the many books he’s pulled for you to read, “but it comes in handy!” When he finds the chapter he’s looking for, he hands it over to you with a bright smile. “I’ve saved the Third more than once ‘cause I knew what I was looking for.”
You take the book with a soft thanks. “Ichikawa-san has told me.”
Kafka looks taken aback. “He has?”
“Yeah,” you reply absently. “His favorite thing to talk about is how awesome his senpai is.” You pull out your notebook, one that Kafka gifted to you on your second day as a cadet, and search for a pen in your bag. “Actually, a lot of them like to tell me stories about you, especially Shinomiya-san. Sometimes she’ll talk about you when I can’t sleep.” You let out a fond giggle, a soft smile on your face as you think about it, “I have dreams about you fighting kaiju.” When you’re successful in your hunt, you pull it out triumphantly and give it a few clicks.
Across the table, Kafka is silent and contemplative, which is unusual.
“Did I say something wrong?” Your smile falls, looking him over worriedly.
He shakes his head, his whole body moving with it as if he’s coming out of a trance. “No! No, you didn’t. I just… didn’t realize they would ever think about me like that,” he admits.
“They all admire you, Hibino-san, even Captain Ashiro. She’s the one who insisted I train with you.”
Kafka gawks, his skin turning a bright cherry red now. “Sh- She did?!”
“Mhm. I thought you knew that.” Putting down your pen, you lean forward to give him your best serious face. “She said you were one of the best soldiers in the Defense Force and if I wanted to make it, then you’re the only one I should be training with.” You watch as he swallows thickly. “And I can see why they all admire you, Hibino-san.”
He makes a broken sound in his throat and covers his face with his hands. “Hime-chan, I’m supposed to be complimenting you,” he whines playfully. “We’re supposed to be building up your confidence and stamina!”
You laugh, reaching over to tug on his sleeve so he’ll move his hands. He doesn’t, but he peeks at you through a couple of his fingers. “And you’re doing a great job at that, too.”
He snickers and finally drops his hands. “Thank you, my dear, Hime-chan.” He takes a deep breath and grabs another book. “Now, we should get back to our studies.”
“Roger that!”
-
When Kafka gets engrossed in his research, there’s very little that can catch his attention. It’s a habit that you share, which is why you work so well with him. The two of you work together like two well oiled cogs, fitting together like puzzle pieces.
You wonder, idly, if things were different – if you were a little older, if you were a certified officer, then maybe Kafka would look at you more than just his student. After all, you can’t help your feelings for him. You’re drawn to him like a plant to the sun, seeking his warmth, his radiance, his affection. He might be a few years older than you, but he’s just your type. He’s smart, he’s funny, he’s incredibly protective of his loved ones. If you brought him home to your friends and family, they’d think you were crazy if you didn’t keep him.
But… as he reminded you earlier, it would be inappropriate.
A loud yawn breaks you out of your thoughts and you watch as he leans back in his chair, stretching out his large arms and bows his wide chest. “I think we should call it a night, Hime-chan.”
“Alright. I’ll put up the books,” you offer, gathering up the ones he’s given you after you pack your things and slip your bag onto your shoulder.
“I’ll help,” he insists.
You split up and head into the stacks to dutifully put away the texts. You’re two away from finishing when the lights go out and the sound of a door slamming catches your attention. “Hibino-san?”
“Still here,” he calls back. You can hear his footsteps rushing around the small library until he finds you. “I guess someone must have thought we left for the night.” He helps you put the last books away and leads the way towards the exit. He pushes on the door and frowns. “Hmm.”
“Something wrong?”
He looks at you sheepishly. “It’s locked.”
“Excuse me?” You move around him and try to push and pull on the door, jiggling the handle, but it doesn’t budge. “Is this the only way out?”
“Yeah,” Kafka sighs. “Don’t worry, I’ll think of something to get us out of here.” His brow furrows in thought. “Do you have your comm-link?”
You shake your head. “Left it in my locker. You?”
“Aheh… yeah, me too.”
“So we’re stuck here until morning?” You sigh, resting your head against the treacherous door.
Kafka, still standing behind you, sighs. “I’m sorry, Hime-chan, this is my fault. I let time get away from me.”
“It’s not your fault! It’s just bad luck,” you insist, spinning around to give him a reassuring smile. Your breath gets cut short when you realize just how close the two of you were, your face was practically in his chest and he has to bend his neck to look down at you. “Sorry, Hibino-san.”
He lets out a shaky breath and shakes his head, but makes no attempt to move. “H- Hime-chan?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you remember when I told you that you were beautiful?” His voice is a raspy whisper, as if it’s taking him everything to get his words out.
You tilt your head up to look at him and nod once. “I do.”
“And do you remember when I said it was inappropriate that I–”
“Hibino-san?”
“Yeah?”
“Please kiss me,” you breathlessly plead.
A pained noise leaves Kafka’s throat, but he cups your face in his large hands, holding you as if you’re the most precious thing he’s ever touched, before he leans down to brush his lips against yours. It’s gentle, cautious, but it sets off butterflies in your stomach. “I’ve wanted to do that since the first time I saw you,” he mutters against your lips.
“Will you do it again?”
You can feel the curling of his lips as he smiles against you. “As many times as you want,” he replies. “Will I receive any in return?”
“All of them and more,” you promise, pressing forward to seal your mouth against his again.
The door swings open behind you and someone clears their throat. “Sorry, thought the place was empty,” Vice-Captain Hoshina says. “But uh, I can see that you’re still busy, so lock up the place when you’re done, alright?” He tosses the keys Kafka’s way, who catches them easily. “And don’t stay up too late, kids. Sleeping is–”
“Also part of the job,” the pair of you say in unison.
The Vice-Captain laughs and waves. “And, just a word of warning, if you’re going to make out like teenagers, maybe find a better hiding place.”
Kafka nearly chokes on his tongue, but he curls his entire body around you, bringing you close as if to hide you from the Vice-Captain’s teasing. “Y- Yes, sir. Will do!”
“Good night~” Hoshina chirps on his way down the hall.
“Good night, sir,” the two of you reply dutifully. Once he’s well out of earshot, Kafka sighs, but squeezes you tight. “We should lock up and head to bed.”
“That’s probably for the best,” you agree.
His hand cups your cheek once more, thumb brushing along the apple of your cheek, and you lean into his touch. “Are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I’m an old man and you’re young and beautiful and way outta my league–”
You shut him up with another kiss, long and lingering. “Walk me to my room then, old man?”
He sighs happily and nods. “Anything for you, Hime-chan.”
i consider this to be a part one of this mini-series, you can read part two here.
