XD This is actually the second time taking this quiz and getting this result. Half wonder what I'd have to change to get a different answer. Thanks for the tag!
Don’t know why I was surprised honestly. I’m in this tag all the time! I tag @aviel-the-trans-bucket @siriskulk @itsfennix @madamefluffnstuff if you guys are interested!
For the lovely @misfit-megumi because she asked so nicely. I hope you're feeling as lovely as you are!!!
A/N: Convenience store romance, pure fluff
Coffee. You need coffee. And maybe some solid food to go with that liquid lifesaver, because your stomach lining is holding on for dear life.
The doors to the Konbini swish open. You put your phone away, your fingers already itching to get back to it. Installing your work email on your mobile device has simultaneously been your best and worst decision to date. You can get so much more done. But you can also get so much more done!
“Good evening,” an elderly woman greets you. You nod and smile at her. Right. You’re taking a break. Focus on the real world.
You pay for a can of iced coffee, crack it open, and take the first sip as you trudge through the store. Do you want some ice cream? Some cake? Or rather something savory?
You spot the Buldak Carbonara easily, drawn toward its inviting Logo. Your hand reaches out to take it, but someone else seems to have the same thought, your hand knocking into theirs.
“Oh,” you both say. You blink up and up and up. The guy’s tall, dark-haired, and extremely handsome. As well as beyond exhausted. He blinks tiredly back at you.
“Long day at work?” You ask, because he looks like you feel. He nods. His eyes flicker to the can of coffee in your hand and his sudden envy is almost palpable. You offer him the can before you can fully think it through.
“Want a sip?” You ask, surprised when he takes it. His hand is warm against yours, the chill of the drink having seeped into your skin.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and your eyes are drawn to it, the milky skin above the creamy white of his shirt, the dark red of his tie.
“Thank you.” He looks down at the can and his face turns almost sheepish. “I think I emptied it.”
“Buy me another one?”
-
His name is Kuroo. He’s tall, even when he’s sitting next to you at the little self-serve bar, waiting for his own bowl of Buldak Carbonara to cool down.
“What do you do for work?” He asks, slowly sipping from a new can of iced coffee. You're still twirling yours in your hands, suddenly too aware of the way your hair must look after hours of work or the fact that you didn’t have time to put make-up on this morning. You don’t know what got into you to talk to him like that. You’re not usually this forward, which explains your status of being a long-time single.
“I work for as an agent for the JSA,” you tell him, ready to launch into the usual explanation of what that abbreviation means. Instead, his head shoots up, his ridiculously attractive hair bobbing with the motion.
“JSA as in Japanese Soccer Association?”
You blink. “You know them?”
Kuroo grins and it transforms his features, turning him from being dark, mysterious, and attractive into warm, boyish, and even more attractive. Damn your heart that stutters to a halt.
“I work for the JVA.”
You can’t help but laugh. “You’re kidding.”
“Never.” He draws a cross over his heart to emphasize before he leans in. “How did you get into Soccer?”
“My dad taught me when I was younger. He trained our Middle School team. You?”
His smile turns softer. You can almost feel how it must be for him, diving into the past.
“My dad played with me when I was a kid. And when we moved in with my grandparents, it helped me form a friendship that lasts to this day. I know it’s hard to believe but I was rather shy as a kid.”
You feel your own lips tugging upward. It’s hard to stay in a bad mood around him, it seems.
“Does Yahito-san still work for you?” You ask, dragging your chopsticks through the thickened sauce.
“No, she left a few months ago. Maternity leave.” He digs his own chopsticks in.
“Oh? How lovely!”
-
“This was nice,” Kuroo says, the doors of the Konbini closing behind you.
“It was.”
His number is saved in your phone and vice versa.
Inside, this had felt like something, like a moment meant to be remembered. Just like before a goal, the air had visibly shifted. But there had been no kiss, no hug, nothing but a promise to try and keep in touch.
And now, outside on the streets, your life is pulling you in again. Your phone is vibrating in your pocket. Pretty sure it’s Ego, the new Blue Lock Project is coming along nicely, almost all 300 female Strikers have been assembled. Tomorrow, Kuroo will probably be nothing but a fond memory. Someone who could have been more, but never will be.
That thought drops heavy into your stomach. You stretch out your arm and offer him your hand to shake. You won’t be able to handle a hug now, not when you know that nothing is going to come out of this anyway.
“Until we meet again,” you tell him and make sure to smile. His own smile falters but he shakes your hand, the pressure firm and reassuring.
Not even five minutes later you’re walking down the street, eyes on the sidewalk as if you’re trying not to trip. Instead, you’re forcing yourself not to turn back around.
Your phone vibrates again and you pull it out, hoping for once that it’s a call from Ego or Anri, something to keep your mind occupied.
Instead, it’s Kuroo who’s calling.
You pick up and turn around, but the sidewalk is rather crowded and you can’t make him out anywhere.
“Did you forget something?”
“Yeah.” His voice is a little breathless. “Do you want to go see a movie?”
“N-Now?” You chide yourself right away. He probably thought about sometime next week.
“Yeah.” You can hear the grin in his voice, can picture it perfectly in your mind’s eye. “Don’t move, I can already see you.”
And just like that, he slips out from between two strangers, dark hair crowning his proud grin and the twinkle in his eyes.
“Hi!” He breathes, phone still pressed to his ear. “Do you know the term ‘Carpe Diem’?”
“Not on the top of my head, no.”
“It means seize the day. And I suppose I’m doing just that. Or, more correctly, I’m doing Carpe Puella.”
“And that would be?” You can feel your heart bubbling in your throat. This isn’t what you expected, not something you could ever dream of happening. But he’s here and he’s grinning from one ear to the other, fondness warming his dark eyes.
A/N: requested by @misfit-megumi - Prompts are: "the sky is everywhere" and "I'm tired of love songs"
Warning: heavy angst to somewhat fluff. I just let my brain take the wheel
“I′m so tired of love songs, tired of love songs, tired of love songs, tired of love…” You’re swaying a little as you sing, almost miss your mouth when you bring the bottle of wine back up to your lips.
To call the last few months “rough” would have been an understatement.
Something in you is begging you to go home, but that place doesn’t exist anymore.
Your formerly shared apartment feels more like a trap now. You don’t want to be in there, yet you just can’t move out.
“Hey,” your friend’s grip is soft, cautious. Like you’re one of those hurt animals that might lash out. She thought it would be a good idea to party, try and meet somebody new. But two months is not nearly enough time to forget about someone you loved so deeply.
“Do you want me to take you home?”
“I’m fine,” you argue, but you both know that’s a lie. You haven’t been fine in weeks. Not since…
“Can we do some shots?” You ask, dreading the moment you have to leave this place and face reality yet again. If you get hammered enough… maybe it will buy you some time.
They say Grief comes in stages. If that’s true, you’re still stuck in denial.
-
There is no place on earth where you’re free of the memories.
Even when all the blinds are closed and you’re lying in the dark, you can clearly see the twinkle in Keigo’s eyes. Hear him whistling low at your sight. Feel the caress of a single feather.
He left a few months ago.
It wasn’t the first time he had to leave for an undercover mission. Not the first time he didn’t give you any information.
“You’re too clever for your own good,” he said often, kissing your temple when you connected the dots yourself, came up to him with what you thought he was going to get into. You had been right every time.
So you knew to be scared when he packed his things this time.
Because he was going to infiltrate the League of Villains.
“You should stop doing that,” he said, but there was no twinkle in his eye when he said it. He sounded tired, resigned to his fate. It should have been a warning.
You should have locked yourself in the spare bedroom, put your hands over your ears, and pretended you didn’t hear him.
But you didn’t. And he broke up with you.
Two days later he went officially missing. Some think he’s dead.
You don’t know what would hurt less.
-
The light is hurting your eyes.
You close them and sink back into the pillows, no more willing to face the day than you have been yesterday.
The air is heavy with the smell of sweat and alcohol. If only you could fall back asleep but now that you’re awake, all the noises seem to increase by a tenfold. The clock is ticking so loud it feels like your head is vibrating. Someone in the apartment above you is showering and the water trickling down sounds like rainfall. Then there’s the smacking sound of your fridge door being closed-
Your eyes fly open but you blink against the pain as you try and regain your memories.
Did you bring someone home last night?
You wouldn’t, right?!
But there’s someone in your apartment, footsteps coming closer and closer.
You grab your pillow and push yourself up, the room spinning. The blinds are only partially open, leaving the doorway in the shadow. But what you can see is black and glistening, like leather-
Your scream cuts through the silence like the pillow soaring through the air.
Your invader catches it with ease. When he lowers it and steps into the room, your breath catches in your throat.
You know those eyes.
“Keigo?” You ask, your voice scratchy. He’s wearing a black mask that covers almost all of his face. Bandages cover the rest of his head, but some of his hair is still peaking through, confirming your guess.
He nods slowly and drops the pillow to the floor. In his right hand is a bottle of water.
You want to ask, yell, beg him to stay… but all you can do is lean forward and empty your stomach.
-
It’s unnatural for Keigo to be this quiet.
It’s unnatural for you to be the same.
But if this is a fever dream, you don’t want to end it with your words.
Wordlessly he cleans the floor. Wordlessly he urges you to drink water and take the painkiller he found in the kitchen cabinet.
Wordlessly he slips into bed with you and holds you, and you pretend that everything is okay.
It hurts even more when you wake up a second time and he’s gone yet again.
-
When he returns, almost a week later, after a press conference that shook the world, he’s no longer wearing the mask. His face is scared and the room painfully empty of his wings, his presence. He seems to have shrunken in on himself.
“You’re too clever for your own good,” he tells you, feet planted on your doorstep. You step aside to let him in, hoping that he will. He does.
Neither of you talks about the topic at hand. To someone who doesn’t know your history, it might look like nothing ever happened. You cook dinner together, your hand raised to stop him from stealing the noodles out of the pot, plucking the chicken out of the pan before you can serve the food. You sink into him whenever he’s close, but neither of you addresses the question that needs to be asked.
At least until the dishes are done and the kitchen is clean and your body heavily sinks into the mattress, your heart longing for him to stay near.
“Would you take me back?” He whispers, quiet enough that you might have missed it, had you not been waiting for it.
“Would you?”
He shakes his head. You can feel the motion where his chin dishevels your hair.
But isn’t that why the two of you have always been so great together? Because you do what he wouldn’t and he does what you never will?
Your hands find his arms, take hold of him in the only way you can.
“If you ever break up with me again, I will make you regret it,” you say, though it’s an empty threat. He chuckles, but it doesn’t sound amused.
“You already did.”
-
You’ve always been too clever for your own good.
Does it soothe the hurt to know he only broke up with you to keep you safe? No.
But it makes it easier to take him back.
One day, hopefully, he will realize that you’re safest when you’re with him.
But until then, you will try your best to hold him close.
To save and be saved - Shouto Todoroki x Reader - Baby Series part 3
part 2
“Oh, you’re hiring help now?” Katsuki drawls from the doorway, one hand in his hip as he examines the office.
“Uncle Tsuki!” Shouji’s on his feet in a heartbeat, racing over. “Uncle Tsuki!”
“Hey Stinker,” he picks the kid up with ease, settling him on his shoulder. “You helping your Pop?”
“Yes!” Shouji exclaims eagerly. “I’m drawing his Logo.”
“Good idea, the old one sucks anyway. You wanna show me what you’ve got so far?”
The boy considers it for a second, sucking in his lower lip before shaking his head.
“Not yet. Wanna finish it first.”
“Good choice. Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. Gonna talk to your Pop for a second, okay? Ears off!”
“Okay,” Shouji giggles, pretending to shut off his ears when Katsuki lets him down, shuffling over to where he’s got paper and pens spread out.
-
“Is it taking your kid to work day?” Katsuki asks Shouto, walking closer. “You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”
“Sorry,” Shouto pinches the bridge of his nose. “Shouko’s colicky. It’s been a tough week.”
“Ugh, that’s the worst. I’m so glad Kaede is over that. Want me to take Shouji for the weekend? It’s only a small help, I guess, but we like having him around.”
“That’s a nice offer.” Shouto yawns. “I’m going to play it back before giving you an answer, if that’s okay. But surely you’re not here to help me raise my kids and keep my sanity at the same time.”
“No, you’re right. I have the numbers on the new guy. Hitoshi thinks he’ll be able to trap him tonight or tomorrow at least. Thought you might want a piece of it, but I think you better sit this own out.”
“Uncle Toshi?” Shouji asks from his corner, curiosity piqued.
“What did I say about your ears being off?” Katsuki asks, face thunderous.
Shouji giggles and turns back to drawing, not the least bit afraid.
“It’s a shame, really,” Shouto agrees. “But I don’t think it would be a safe choice to join. I’d appoint one of my Sidekicks if we need the numbers. Shatter’s doing exceptionally well.”
Katsuki huffs. “Sidekicks.” For a moment it’s quiet between the two, but then he nods. “Fine, tell her to call me. I’ll give her the details.”
He gets up, pausing for a moment, his hand on the back of his chair as he stares at the wall.
“I’m gonna send some of the guys over,” he finally adds.
Shouto blinks up at him, confusion visible.
“You need a nap. If you can’t ask for help, that’s your bad. Eh, Stinker. You wanna hit up Kirishima?”
“Uncle Jirou?” Shouji’s jumping up and down with excitement. “Can I, Papa?”
Shouto sighs, eyeing the Couch. It does look comfy.
“Sure. But don’t eat any of the sweets Denki keeps in his pockets.”
“Okay,” Shouji grabs a paper and runs over, pushing it onto his Desk.
The Logo he’d been trying to draw has been abandoned in the corner, instead, there’s now a drawing of him, you, and the two kids. Shouji and Shouko are drawn holding hands and he has to fight back tears when Shouji clambers up his lap to press a wet kiss against his cheek.
“See you later Papa. Love you!”
-
“No way,” Denki leans forward. “You’re making that up.”
“Uhuh,” Shouji shakes his head. “I really dreamed that.”
“A dragon’s so cool. I never dreamed of dragons. I just have boring dreams. Like race cars.”
“Race cars are cool too.”
“Uff, I’m glad.” Denki chuckles, turning to his side. “Babe, did you hear that? I’m cool too.”
“Not you,” Kyoka points out. “Just the race cars.”
“You wound me.”
She snickers before winking at Shouji. “You’re going to come over to visit when the little one is born?” She points at the swell of her belly, flinches at what must be a kick.
“He’s playing soccer right now.”
“He is?” Shouji’s amazed. “I didn’t know there was so much space in there. Shouko never played soccer!”
“Yeah, because our kid’s cool.” Denki boasts before considering it. “Shouko’s cool too though. Maybe she was planning world domination?”
“What’s that mean?” Shouji asks just as Eijirou settles heavily on the chair next to him. “Hey Big Man!”
“Uncle Jirou!” Shouji jumps into his lap with ease, eager to cash in the warm hug this uncle always gives out. “Missed you.”
“Missed you too, Big Man! You’re growing like a weed, Man. Soon you’re taller than Minoru.”
“Very funny,” Minoru lisps from the other end of the table. “Don’t listen to him, Shouji. You can do great things no matter your height!”
“Sure, Uncle Noru.”
“Is everyone coming by today,” Denki asks at that moment, eyeing the door. “Not like I hate impromptu get-to-gathers, but what’s the occasion?”
“Shouto needed a fiver,” Katsuki harrumphs, stepping over. “And if I just call one of you guys, the rest is gonna be jealous. Don’t lie.”
“I’d never lie,” Tenya points out, two steps behind him. “I thank you for your consideration.”
-
Shouji doesn’t seem to mind the attention, climbing from one lap to the other, always answering the same questions.
Yes, he’s grown since the last time.
Yes, his little sister is the cutest thing on earth.
Yes, he’s progressing well in his Quirk Training.
“Look!” He shows off to Uncle Shouji - probably one of his favorites because Uncle Shouji always calls him Shouji Number One. “I can make a really big flame and a big icicle at the same time.”
“That’s amazing!” Shouji praises him.
Not soon after though, all the talking and climbing and hugging has tired him out.
“Has anyone seen the kid?” Katsuki asks when he notices his voice missing.
“Over here,” Shouji calls out in a hushed voice, opening up his arms. Shouji’s sleeping soundly in his embrace, sucking on his thumb.
“So cute!” Mina can’t help but comment, clinging to Eijirou. “I want that too.”
“Children are not just cute,” Tenya points out. “They are also a lot of work!”
“I know that,” Mina hisses back. “Spoilsport!”
Tenya opens his mouth to retaliate, closing it with a click though when someone clears their throat pointedly behind them.
“I thought you wanted to hit up Kirishima?” Shouto asks from the doorway, voice carefully calm.
Katsuki shrugs. “You call one of them, they all come. You had a good nap?”
“Yes,” Shouto confirms stiffly. “Thank you. Where’s my son?”
All of his old classmates point in unison.
Shouto sighs. He should have known.
“I should have been home an hour ago,” he explains softly under his breathe as he makes his way over. “Sorry for the trouble, everyone.”
“No trouble at all,” Izuku points out, pressing Shouto’s shoulder with one scarred hand. “Always there to help when you need us.”
“I don’t wanna bother-”
“Dude,” Denki exclaims. “You’re not bothering us. If anything, you’re giving us an excuse to hit you up as well when the little one’s a pain in the ass.”
Kyoka hits his shoulder at that, but she still nods to show her agreement.
“Look,” Fumikage points out, startling them. “We’ve been through war together. Can it really be more difficult to ask for help in this?”
Shouto’s shoulders lower and he nods. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
He bends down to scoop up Shouji, unable to stop from smiling when he notices the thumb firmly lodged in his mouth.
“Let’s get you home.”
“No, no...” Shouji whines low under his breath, waking up just enough to realize what’s going on. “Wanna play!”
“Yes, yes. Momma’s waiting.”
Shouji sniffles at that, falling silent, his face hidden against his father’s neck.
With a last smile at his friends, Shouto leaves.
-
“Fuyumi asked if we’d leave Shouko with her for the weekend,” you explain that night, curled into his hold.
“That’s pretty brave to offer in this state,” Shouto comments dryly, enjoying the chuckle it draws from you.
“It is. But she’s gone through this before, she knows what to do. Besides, Rei’s going to help out.”
“You think we should do it?”
“You don’t think so?” You ask back, leaning back to catch the look in his eyes. “What are your thoughts?”
“I’m just… Shouldn’t we be able to do this on our own?”
“We are doing it on our own,” you disagree softly. “But no one said we have to refuse any help. Besides, I think we’re over the worst. And one weekend of uninterrupted sleep would do wonders for us. You can’t be a good father if you’re running on fumes.”
“Hmm,” he hums, considering it. “So… Shouko with Fuyumi and Shouji with Katsuki?”
“He offered,” You remind him. “Besides, your parents are always eager to get Shouji for the weekend, you know that.”
“Yes.” He presses a kiss to your temple. “I know. I think…” He takes a deep breath. “If you think it’s the right thing to do, I’ll follow your lead.”
“Good,” you kiss him, let your love and care for him drop like honey from your tongue. “Now close your eyes and rest, love. I’ll keep you safe.”
Maybe he could have laughed at that. That a civilian could keep a Hero safe.
But he knows it’s true. His heart has never been safer than with you.
Of Fire and Ice - Shouto Todoroki x Reader (Baby Series part 2)
part 1
Can I call this popular demand if only one person asked for it, lol?
You can hear the car park through the open window, followed by the telltale sound of a cane hitting the pavement.
“Shouji?” You call out to your son. He looks up from where he’d been sitting and admiring a sleeping Shouko, the picture book in his hands long forgotten. “Grampa’s here.”
He’s on his feet right away, running for the door.
You’re two steps behind him, watching as he pulls it open to reveal Enji and Rei Todoroki, still a few steps away on the little path to the door.
“Grampa! Grammy!” Shouji’s elated as always. “Did you know I’m a big brother now?!”
“A big brother, you say?” Enji leans heavily onto his cane and stretches out an enormous hand to mess up Shouji’s hair. “But you’re still so small? I can hold your head in my hand!”
Shouji pouts. “But Shouko is so much smaller. I’ll show you!”
Your hand on his shoulder stops him. “Give them a minute. They want to say hi first and come in properly.”
“Oh, okay. Do you need help with your shoes, Grampa?”
“That would be nice,” Enji takes a seat on the little bench in your entry way, watches with a fond smile as Shouji pulls off his shoes and puts on slippers.
“You too, Grammy?” He asks Rei next who leans down to press kisses to his cheeks.
“You are growing every day,” she comments, tousling his hair even more. “Soon you’ll be taller than me.”
“How soon?” Shouji asks, checking how tall he is now. He comes barely past her ribs.
“Too soon,” Rei sighs and takes a seat next to her husband so that Shouji can take off her shoes as well.
He only does it for his grandparents - and you, when you were too pregnant to spot your feet - but he does it with a passion.
-
“She’s sleeping,” Shouji explains as he drags his grandparents over, his entire hand curled around his grandfather’s thumb. “Her face looks pretty now. It was very squished at first.”
Rei chuckles at that, her whole face alight with wonder when you lift the newborn into her arms.
“Her hair…” She breathes, touching it with shaking fingers. It’s a bright, burning red and nothing else.
“It’s pretty, yes?” Shouji asks. “Grampa, sit here. It’s more comfortable. We can play something while Grammy holds Shouko.”
“I think Grampa wants to hold Shouko as well.”
“Oh,” Shouji considers that. “Okay, but we can play too, right?”
“Yes,” Enji pulls him into his lap. “We can play. Why don’t you tell me what you’ve been up to these past two weeks? I haven’t seen you in so long.”
“Well Momma had to go to the hospital to get Shouko,” Shouji explains. “And she was real tired after. She was just laying in bed all day. But Papa was home too, so that was fun.”
His eyes turn real big as he remembers something. “Did you know that Shouko drinks from Momma’s boobies?”
Enji turns an unflattering shade of red at the direct question. “Well, yes. That’s how all Babies drink. Sometimes they can’t, that’s what bottles are for.”
“Bottles?” Shouji blinks. “Like beer bottles? Papa drinks from Beer Bottles sometimes.”
You snicker. “No, Shouji. Different bottles. They’re in the cupboard, you found them yesterday.”
“Ah!” Shouji nods before peering up at his Grandfather. “Did you know I can make a big fire from my right hand? But only in my right hand!”
He holds out his hand to produce a flame, showing it to Enji. “It’s much bigger now, see?”
Enji nods, gently folding his own, bigger hand around it. “Very good. You’re just as talented as your father. How do you like Quirk-Training?”
“It’s fun,” Shouji explains. “We play a lot of Games!”
“Fun,” Enji’s voice sounds hollow as he repeats it, a faraway look in his eyes.
Shouko chooses that moment to wake up, smacking her lips together as she yawns.
“Oh, she’s awake.” Rei turns, allowing all of you to watch as Shouko’s eyes open, revealing bright, unwavering turquoise.
You watch as both Enji and Rei’s faces harden and soften in tune, like they brace themselves for the impact of a swing only to realize that it hurts less than they thought.
You don’t say anything, let them verbalize it for themselves when they’re ready.
“She looks like Touya,” Enji finally comments and when he lifts a hand to caress the tuft of bright red hair on Shouko’s head you know he’s dying to hold her.
Rei seems to notice too, because she looks over, checking in with you if that’s allright.
“Shouji?” You ask, “You wanna sit with your Grammy for a minute? I think Grampa wants to hold Shouko now.” You pick the girl from Rei’s arms.
“Okay,” Shouji gets up and climbs into his grandmother's lap. “You smell really nice, Grammy.”
“Thank you,” Rei laughs. kissing the top of his head. “That’s Lavender. It’s a really nice purple flower.”
“I like purple,” Shouji explains. “Uncle Toshi and Uncle Noru wear purple.”
“What other colors do you know?”
You listen with one ear as you lift Shouko into Enji’s waiting arms.
A single tear slips out of his left eye as Shouko’s tiny hands curl into fists.
“A fighter,” he comments thickly, gently caressing her cheeks and button nose with his thumb.
Her lips open slightly as if she expects food and he laughs, wet and heavy.
You watch in silence as he familiarizes himself with her, his youngest grandchild.
You’ve met Touya only twice, once after you got married and once after Shouji was born. He’s a shadow of his former self, barely alive and yet with a mind unbroken.
But you’ve seen pictures of him as a child, know much of him from what Shouto’s told you.
The Todoroki family history is complicated, but you’re not blind to all the love pouring out through the cracks. It had been held back, it had been hidden, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there.
“We actually wanted to call her Toa,” you explain eventually. “Because Shouji’s named for the fire side of Shouto, we thought about giving her an ice-themed name. Couldn’t do it though, not with that bright red hair.”
“Shouko is a lovely name,” Rei comments, accidentally cutting off one of Shouji’s rambles. He quiets, trying to understand your conversation.
“Maybe the next one,” Enji thinks aloud. “Maybe the next one can be called Toa.”
“The next one?” Shouji asks, confused. “Are we getting another baby?”
You laugh, patting his cheek. “If you ask Papa nicely, I’m sure he’ll say yes. But I think we’ll wait a bit first, right? What if we’re so busy with the two of you we don’t have time for another baby?”
Shouji blinks. “Okay.”
-
Shouto’s dripping wet when he walks in hours later, exhaustion pulling at every muscle.
“Hey,” he greets the room. “Sorry, there was a ferry accident and they called me in.”
Shouji, who’d been napping with his head in your lap, wakes from the familiar voice alone.
“Papa!” He yawns from the Couch. “Can we have another baby?”
Shouto freezes in the entryway, blinking in confusion.
Rei laughs as Enji chuckles.
“My bad, son.” Enji gets up, walks the short distance with his cane, and pats a hand on Shouto’s shoulder. “I put that thought in Shouji’s head, I fear. We were just talking about getting a Toa for the family.”
“Oh,” Shouto nods, his eyes searching yours. You send him a teasing smile and he blushes.
Don't look at me, I'm in my Baby Era - tagging @shoulmate
You’re not surprised to find a warm weight settled against your ribcage when you wake up, the golden morning light drawing patterns into white hair.
“Hey love,” you drag a hand through the mess. “Couldn’t sleep?”
Your son grumbles something under his breath, his hold tightening.
One look at the other side of your bed - empty and perfectly made - tells you everything you need to know.
“Did Papa wake you when he left?” You don’t miss the sniffle, no matter how well it’s hidden.
“So you found him gone when you came in this morning,” you guess, rubbing a comforting circle over his back. “Did you know he always checks in on you before he leaves?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Shouji whines, “Didn’t see him..”
“Neither was I. We can’t always be awake when he has to leave. Sometimes I think it’s better we’re asleep. You know we often make him late.”
You let your fingertips dance over the soft skin at his sides, smile when he fights the giggles trying to spill out of him.
“How about we make breakfast, huh? We can make Papa a Bento Box too. You wanna bring him his Lunch?”
Shouji considers it for a second before nodding. But he’s not that eager to get out of bed yet, climbing into your lap the moment you sit up.
You sigh, but you let him, curl your arms around his small body as he sinks into your embrace.
-
Shouji’s small for his age, and almost an exact replica of his father. Only the sides are reversed, leaving his hair white on the left side instead of his right.
It’s no wonder that Shouto’s family is obsessed with him, no doubt trying to right some wrongs of the past.
“Momma?” Shouji asks, snuggled into you. “Can I get freckles?”
“Freckles?” You blink. “Why?”
“Can I?”
“I don’t know. Your Papa doesn’t have any. But we can draw some on if you want some for today.”
“You can draw them on?” He asks, astonished by this possibility. “Can I look like Uncle Deku?”
You laugh, swaying him left to right. “Sure. But I draw a line at green hair.”
He giggles as you pepper his head with kisses, blow raspberries against his cheeks.
“That tickles!”
-
“Look!” Shouji points at the banner across the street. “Uncle Tsuki!”
You nod, taking in the giant version of Hero Dynamight. “What do you think of his suit?”
“‘s ugly,” Shouji comments, sucking on his thumb. You’re trying to make him stop it, but so far to no avail. “Too much orange.”
“Hm? What colors do you like?”
“Blue, like Papa’s suit.” He thinks for a moment. “Purple’s nice too.”
“Yeah?” You brush a hand through his hair, mix up the white and red. “You like Purple? Do you know someone who wears purple?”
“Uncle Toshi,” he counts on his fingers. “Uncle…” You can tell he’s searching for the name. “Noru?”
“You mean Minoru? Yeah, he wears purple too… Now, do you wanna take my hand as we cross the street?”
He grabs it, his small fingers curling around yours. “Can we get ice cream, Momma?”
So he has noticed the little ice cream cart sitting at the corner.
“Maybe on our way back. We’re eating Lunch with Papa first.”
You watch as he bites his lip, considering it.
“But I want ice cream now.”
“I know Honey. Up…” You let him hop up onto the sidewalk. “But if we get ice cream now, we’re going to be late for Lunch. Papa’s waiting for us. And what will he say if we come in eating ice cream?”
“None for me?” Shouji asks, his eyes big and round.
“Yep. None for me. But we can ask him if we can come out and get ice cream together. Is that an idea?”
“Yeah,” he nods. “Papa can make the ice cream stay cold longer.”
“That he can do.”
-
“Look, I don’t have-” Shouto stops midsentence as he spots you in the doorway, the frustration on his face washing away. “I’ll call you back in an hour. Thank you.”
You doubt the person on the other end could get any word in before he ends the call, getting up from his chair.
“What are you guys doing here?” He asks. His smile is warm, and as always, a little tentative. It’s been years but he still doubs sometimes that this is all real.
“We made Lunch!” Shouji declares, pointing at the bag over your shoulder. “I cut the sausage!”
“You did? Amazing!” With one swift motion Shouto has picked him up, hoisting him up so that he’s sitting comfortably in his arms. “Hey there, Shouji. Couldn’t get my Good Morning Kiss today.”
“I was asleep!” Shouji points out, leaning in to press his lips against his Father’s cheeks. “Missed you.”
“Missed you too. Think I can give Momma a Good Morning Kiss too?”
“Yeah,” Shouji nods and waits until his Father has leaned in to kiss you to burst out with the news.
“I’m Uncle Deku now.”
“You are?” Shouto leans back a little to squint at him. “How?”
“I got freckles!” Shouji points at the little dots covering his nose and cheeks. “Momma made me Uncle Deku!”
“Are you as strong as him too?!”
“Yes!” And you watch, chuckling to yourself, as little Shouji proudly flexes his small bicep.
It’s a show, watching them interact.
Most of the times it’s hard to tell who loves who more. Shouto his son or Shouji his father.
“Oh,” Shouji blinks up at his Dad. “Can we get ice cream?”
“Absolutely!”
You clear your throat and Shouto blinks an apologetic smile in your direction. “But Lunch first.”
-
Shouji’s sitting on the ground in front of you, explaining to a flock of disinterested doves that he’s got a lot of Uncles and Aunts and all of them are Heroes.
“There’s Uncle Tsuki, he makes boom. Uncle Jirou makes himself hard, like… like a door! Unkle Denki fights with Ele-Ele- with Ticity. Uncle Tenya is funny, because he’s really fast. But he’s very strict, he never lets me eat ice cream before Lunch! Aunty Chako makes me float! All the way up until I touch the ceiling! And Aunty Tsuyu pulls me back with her tongue, it’s sticky and wet and it tickles…”
“Can we have another one?” Shouto asks, right in the middle of that, his hand curled around yours, his thigh pressed against yours. If you could sit any closer - without sitting on his lap - you probably would.
“Another one?” You ask, pretending not to understand. Shouji’s too lost in his monologue to listen.
“Another kid? He’s getting bigger by the minute. Soon we’ll have to Quirk-Train him. Then he’s off to school. I can even take a day off per week if you need it.”
“Stop,” you ask, your voice soft. You reach out to cradle his face in your hands, watch him lean into the touch with that vulernable look in his eyes.
Shouto’s learned to ask for things, but that doesn’t mean he excepts to get them just like that.
“I’m already pregnant.”
You watch as it dawns on him, little by little and then all at once.
His lips are on yours before you know it, half-cold and half-hot, meeting right in the middle. His kisses are burning though, elated and anxious, almost forgetting where you are.
“Papa?” Shouji asks in the middle of that, pulling you apart with his confused voice. “Momma?”
“Everything’s okay,” you explain, pulling him up onto your lap. “Papa’s a little excited, that’>s all.”
“About what?”
“About you being a big brother.”
“A big brother?” He considers that for a moment. “What’s that?”
“Like Uncle Natsuo,” Shouto explains, his voice thick with emotion. “Or Touya. They’re my big brothers.”
“Oh,” Shouji blinks. “Okay.”
And Shouto laughs, carefree and open, pulling Shouji onto his lap instead.
“More than okay,” he promises. “It will be great.”
- - -
“Momma?” Shouji asks, leaning into you. “Why is her face so weird.”
“She didn’t have much space in there,” you explain, pointing at your belly with your free hand as you cradle the little girl in your other arm. “So she was a little squished in. It will smooth out soon.”
“Oh, okay.” He leans in further, one curious finger booping the tiny nose.
“Hi Shouko,” Shouji whispers. “I’m your big brother.”
Thanks for the tag @steven-grants-world (we won't go into how giddy I get when I'm tagged in something!)
This or that…
coffee or tea (neither!) | early bird or night owl | chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative | freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks | mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre | opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs l typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony | spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather | potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party
no pressure tags: @marieziffer, @jewelsrulz, @diplomaticprincess, @wrenwithapen, @witch-oftheflowers, @lunar-ghoulie, @coneygoil, and anyone else who wants to because I hate forgetting people! Do it!
this looked fun. (And thanks for the tag @ivystoryweaver)
This or that…
coffee or tea | early bird or night owl | chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative | freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks | mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre | opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs l typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony | spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather | potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party
Again, late AF-
Thank you @winniethewife girl ❤️🔥
This or that…
coffee or tea | early bird or night owl | chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative | freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks | mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre | opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs l typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony | spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather | potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party
That was fun!!
NPT: @tarjapearce @missdictatorme @campingwiththecharmings @romanarose
coffee or tea (neither!) | early bird or night owl (But forced to be an early bird due job)| chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative (where is metal? anyways, both is good) | freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks | mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre | opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees (Though I'm allergic af to them) I macarons or eclairs l typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony | spicy or mild | opera or ballet (neither) | london or paris | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather (And latex ❤️) | potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party
No pressure tags: @miss-canon-event, @smokeywhalee @greensagephase
coffee or tea | early bird or night owl | chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold (always a gold girl)| pop or alternative (both)| freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks | mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre | opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs (never had either but I find an eclair more appetizing than a macaron)l typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony | spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather | potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party
thnx 4 da tag @greensagephase @webshooterrr9 🫶 luv these lil games, I feel like a lil iPad kid ‼️
This or that…
coffee or tea | early bird or night owl (both! Def not healthy probably!)| chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold| pop or alternative| freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks neither 😟| mountains or fields | thunder or lightning (McQueen) | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre | opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs l typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony | spicy or mild | opera or ballet (I love both sm) | london or paris (Paris is hella overhyped, London is where it’s atttt) | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather | potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party (cue Andrew Lloyd Webber’s ‘Masquerade’)
No pressure tags: @gltzpzy @faerieemetal @miguelhugger2099 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @bluesidez
I love doing these, it feels like y'all get to know me better little by little 🗣
THIS OR THAT
coffee or tea (none, I drink energy drinks and water) | early bird or night owl | chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold (shout out to James Avery for my charm bracelets lmao) | pop or alternative l freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks I mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre | opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs I typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library I rooftop or balcony | spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather | potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party
No Pressure Tags: @lazyjellyfish300 @ultravioletrayz @pinkhelados @fairlyang + anyone who wants to join in on the fun! 🩷
coffee or tea (neither I like juice and aguas frescas🤞🏼) | early bird or night owl I chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall (winter loll) | silver or gold | pop or alternative I freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks I mountains or fields I thunder or lightning I egyptian mythology or greek mythology (ahhh both bc I loved greek mythology as a kid but egyptian mythology bc of moon knight) I ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre I opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs I typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library I rooftop or balcony I spicy or mild (I don’t have good spice tolerance:() | opera or ballet (I use to do ballet as a kid:3) | london or paris I vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather I potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party
no pressure tags: @mybvalentine @pxtched @scoobysnakz
coffee or tea (water) | early bird or night owl I chocolate or vanilla (strawberry too) | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative I freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks I mountains or fields I thunder or lightning I egyptian mythology or greek mythology I ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre I opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs I typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library I rooftop or balcony I spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris I vincent Van Gogh or claude monet | denim or leather I potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party
no pressure tags! @tarjapearce @ultravioletrayz @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lxverrings @kissitbttr @cheonstapes
coffee or tea | early bird or night owl I chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative I freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks I mountains or fields I thunder or lightning I egyptian mythology or greek mythology I ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre I opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs I typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library I rooftop or balcony I spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris I Vincent Van Gogh or claude monet | denim or leather I potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party
no pressure tags!! @improbable-outset @rhythmloid @poutysprouty @gltzpzy @risararelywrites
coffee or tea | early bird or night owl I chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative I freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks I mountains or fields I thunder or lightning I egyptian mythology or greek mythology I ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre I opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs I typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library I rooftop or balcony I spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris I Vincent Van Gogh or claude monet | denim or leather I potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party
No pressure tags! (Or hop in if you want~) @isometricmoss @twny-cr0ws @fallenlucian and like… any mutuals in general-
TEEHEE I haven't done an ask game in a while thank u :3c
This or that !
coffee or tea | early bird or night owl I chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative I freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks I mountains or fields I thunder or lightning I egyptian mythology or greek mythology I ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre I opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs I typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library I rooftop or balcony I spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris I Vincent Van Gogh or Claude Monet | denim or leather I potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party
Tagging @swampbacon @skelkankaos @caell and all mutuals kissy
coffee or tea | early bird or night owl I chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative I freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks I mountains or fields I thunder or lightning I egyptian mythology or greek mythology I ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre I opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs I typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library I rooftop or balcony I spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris I Vincent Van Gogh or Claude Monet | denim or leather I potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party
coffee or tea | early bird or night owl I chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative I freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks I mountains or fields I thunder or lightning I egyptian mythology or greek mythology I ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre I opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs I typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library I rooftop or balcony I spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris I Vincent Van Gogh or Claude Monet | denim or leather I potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party
@necropolitan-fairy @thecrateofaus @bitchshitdewdrop @sippn-the-tae @toffeebrew @jar-jar-ate and anyone else I forgot to tag/who sees this/wants to add on.
coffee or tea | early bird or night owl I chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative I freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks I mountains or fields I thunder or lightning I egyptian mythology or greek mythology I ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre I opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs I typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library I rooftop or balcony I spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris I Vincent Van Gogh or Claude Monet | denim or leather I potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party
coffee or tea | early bird or night owl I chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative I freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks I mountains or fields I thunder or lightning I egyptian mythology or greek mythology I ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre I opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs I typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library I rooftop or balcony I spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris I Vincent Van Gogh or Claude Monet | denim or leather I potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party
thank you so much for the tag, dira!! this seems fun!! 🩷
coffee or tea (water!!) | early bird or night owl I chocolate or vanilla (strawberry) | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative I freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks I mountains or fields I thunder or lightning I egyptian mythology or greek mythology I ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre I opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs I typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library I rooftop or balcony I spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris I Vincent Van Gogh or Claude Monet | denim or leather I potions or spells (neither!!) | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party
long distance relationship tobio who unconsciously releases pent-up sexual frustration by exercising more, so every time you see him he's in unbelievably good shape. sculpted by the hands of god, cover of a fitness magazine, turning heads in the street kind of good shape. this in turn results in you not being able keep your hands off of him, and therefore you spend practically your entire limited visit together fucking, which means when he goes back to work he's sexually frustrated. rinse repeat
ushijima does not give a fuck what you wear but he is the guy pulling down your skirt or dress when you don’t notice it riding up. hes so casual about it too. but your underwear is for his eyes only
Alaashi thinks you're really into the way he doodles because you often ask him to draw on your hands, arms and legs.
You claim it's for your future sleeve, though you can't decide yet on what you want tattooed.
The truth is, however, that doodling calms him down. Even more so when he's touching you in some way or other.
He hasn't figured out yet that you always carry pens with you, asking him to doodle on your skin the moment he starts picking his skin again, or when he gets that faraway look in his eyes that speaks of the horrors only anxiety can bring.
A faint knock on the front door of your apartment echos through the hallway and to your bedroom, but you don’t bother to get up. They’ll think you’re not here and leave eventually. The lights are off and don’t give off any indication that you’re home.
They knock again, this time a little firmer.
You roll over in bed, tucking your head under the covers to block out the sound. Suddenly, the click of the lock and door creaking open fill the air - he’s here.
“Peach?” Bakugo calls from the living room, feet pattering anxiously around your apartment in search of you. “You here?”
It kills you not to answer him, but there’s no way in hell you want him to see you like this, disheveled and miserable. Maybe if you stay still, you can trick him into thinking you’re not hiding away from the world and aren’t home.
“Ya haven’t answered my calls in three days,” he says aloud as his footsteps approach your bedroom. “Your girlfriends, too. Called ‘em this mornin’ looking for you.”
You’re busted, there’s no running from Katsuki Bakugo. He’s not stupid or naive. Why did you think you could hide from him?
Bakugo lets out a sigh of relief when he sees your body under the covers in the dark. Carefully, he makes his way to your bed and sits on the edge.
“There you are,” he says quietly, nowhere near his normal volume. There’s no bite to his words, only genuine concern. “You okay, sweetheart?”
Ha - no. Not in the slightest.
The blanket shifts a bit when you curl further into yourself. Bakugo reaches for the hem of the comforter, tugging it off of you in one motion. That’s when it sinks in and he understands the situation, maybe a little too well.
“I get it. Y’don’t wanna be seen as weak,” he speaks, both reflectively and to you. “But bein’ down doesn’t mean you’re weak, you’re human, peaches. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with being sad.”
“You didn’t have to come,” you muffle into the pillow, hiding your face from him. “I’ll be fine.”
“Never said you wouldn’t be. Doesn’t mean I can’t be here or worry about your ass.”
Let him in, he obviously wants to help. Just…let him in. Why’s it so hard?
“I don’t…” you trail off, unable to tell him you don’t need his help. Finally, you sit up to face him, hair tangled over your shoulders and t-shirt drooping from your collarbone. “I don’t want to scare you away.”
Bakugo laughs. “Scare me? Gonna have to try a lot harder than that. What kinda hero would I be if I let ya rot away in bed?” He scoops you into his arms and squeezes you firmly. “Let me take care of you when you’re not feelin’ up to it.”
thinking about shouto naming his first son touya. hear me out.
he has a lot of really complicated feelings towards his family, specifically his eldest brother. he never really knew him as a brother, more so as a murderer or a villain. any chances he had to truly know touya and not dabi had been burned away in the ashes of their childhood.
he wishes he could have done something. maybe he could have had a brother. (rip natsuo but you get what i mean)
he’s laying next to your swollen belly, his hand just gently resting overtop feeling the life inside. when he brings up the name suggestion to you, you’re quick to point out the obvious- that touya was, in fact a criminal, an arsonist, and a murderer. and shouto understands that better than anyone. however.
he doesn’t want to name his son after a criminal. no, not at all. he wants to name his son after his brother, the memory of who he was before the world ruined him. he wants to remember touya todoroki, the boy who just wanted to please his father, who was so excited about his quirk, who probably did love his family, even just a little bit.
he couldn’t save touya. he couldn’t save the life that could have been. and he’ll never fully forgive himself for that. but if he can’t save his brother, he’ll save his name.
"you kiss the back of my knees and i want to cry. only/the sun has come this close, only the sun" - shauna barbosa
ushijima wakatoshi is a quiet sleeper. you realise that, because he spends weekend nights in your dorm. it’s an unsaid schedule that makes sure the both of you manage to catch some time together amidst lectures, meetings and training sessions. though, part of it is thanks to your horrible sleep schedule.
it’s currently 3.28am and ushijima is asleep in your bed. he’s a back sleeper, keeps the covers tucked up to his chest, and barely moves. sometimes he snores when he’s really tired. he favours shorts and cotton t-shirts in the summer months, trading them for sweatpants and pullovers when it gets colder. you bought matching cat paw socks and ushijima wears them on occasion because he likes matching items even though his friends think it’s cheesy and more importantly, because he loves you.
you tap away at your laptop, seated at the desk next to your bed. you have an assignment due next month so you figured you should get some preliminary research done. ushijima stirs in his sleep. you glance over, his hair askew on his forehead and your stuffed rilakkuma sitting politely next to him. a second passes before he cracks open his eyes.
“toshi?” you reach over and brush his hair away from his forehead. “what’s wrong?”
ushijima mumbles something incoherent.
“hmm?”
he thinks that your fingers are softer than his, calloused from training and roughened over the years. he likes that. he likes that you’re soft, that you feel warm and gooey like a marshmallow when you hug him, arms wrapped around his chest and eyes creased from smiling up at him.
“come sleep with me. it’s late,” ushijima murmurs.
he beckons you to his side by stretching an arm out. you oblige. you close your laptop and switch off your desk light, bathing the room in darkness. the bed is warm, as warm as him.
ushijima turns onto his side and nuzzles his face into your neck. you smell nice. you fit just right in his arms. your hand splayed between his shoulder blades and leg tossed over his feels like the afternoon sunlight spilling infinitely through a window. only the sun has touched him this close, only the sun.
you kiss the soft skin of his temple and ushijima understands what love is.
he pulls the covers over your shoulder and tugs you closer to him. you are his love.
Warning: Fatphobia but not from the Inarizaki Volleyball team - Also the boys are idiots but they're teenagers so that's to be expected.
“You’re so fat. You’re like a cow. Mooo!” You duck your head at the comment, try to let it slide off you. It still hurts, even if your face doesn’t show. Crying only eggs them on.
“You wouldn’t be so fat if you actually participated in some sports.”
“Like any Club would take them in, she’s too fat to even be a manager.”
You can barely read the words in your book now, the letters blurred by unshed tears.
You don’t believe that what they’re saying is true. What they are saying is not true.
But it still hurts. Oh, does it hurt.
If only you could make them believe.
-
The idea is so bad you can’t believe you’re going through with it.
It won’t change anything.
If your classmates find out that you tried and failed, the bullying will surely get worse.
But still… what if it works out?
Your heart’s beating like a jackhammer in your chest as you approach the door of the third-year classroom. You’ve never been here before and you’re not sure how this is going to go, but you have to at least try, right?
“Can I help you?” A girl asks, her smile open and friendly.
You nod. “C-Can I… Can I talk to K-Kita-san for a… a minute?”
“Oh, sure. Stay right there… Kita-kun! There’s someone here for you.”
The decision to ask him first wasn’t made lightly. You don’t know much about Volleyball other than what you’ve seen during Gym Class. You don’t have to run around much - which you prefer - but you’re not good at jumping. But all the other Captains are way scarier than he is and when you’ve seen him around he’d always been surrounded by an air of calm indifference. If he doesn’t like you, he’ll at least be polite about it.
“Yes?” He’s tall, looming over you like an attractive shadow. You swallow thickly.
“I-I wanted to ask… if you needed… a manager? For Volleyball, I mean.”
Kita blinks.
“You’re a first-year, correct?”
You nod.
“How about we walk for a bit and talk about it?” He leads you down the hallway, away from the prying eyes of his classmates.
You’re not sure how he does it, but you find yourself talking, explaining, rambling at times about the reasons you have to ask. But when you bite your lip in panic, clearly having overshared, he just nods and urges you to go on.
“Practice is every day after school. When does your last bus leave?”
You look it up on your phone and he nods.
“It might happen that we train a little longer, especially the twins. Don’t let them rope you into staying longer. If you do have to stay longer for any reason, don’t hesitate to ask any of the boys to walk you home, okay?”
“O-okay.”
“Good. I have to get back to class now. I will see you after school. You can see if you like it and decide later.”
You nod, speechless. To say that this has gone better than expected would have been an understatement.
-
No one saw you change into your gym clothes in the bathroom and you’re thankful for that.
You’re not ready to let anyone from your class know you’re doing this, if ever.
Maybe that’s a bad idea, maybe that would make them see you differently, but with how things are going right now they might just use it as another way to bully you.
It’s so weird to approach the Gym alone. No one’s waiting outside and you panic a little.
Did you get the time wrong? But Kita said after school, right?
You rush to the door to find him in there with three other boys, all of them taller than you.
A dark-skinned boy spots you first.
“Hey!” He waves at you. “I’m Aran Ojiro. You must be the one who’s trying out for manager.”
You swallow hard. This is a try-out? Like a test? What if you fail?
As if reading your thoughts another boy steps forward, his face serious but his words kind.
“Don’t worry too much. Since you’re going to spend a lot of time with us we have to make sure you’ll feel comfortable doing so. You can try out what it would be like.”
“He’s Ōmimi, I’m Akagi,” the last one steps forward, shaking your hand eagerly, “It would be so cool to have a manager again and a cute one too!”
You shy away from his touch and step closer to Kita who simply nods in greeting.
“Aran will show you around and explain the basics to you. As soon as the whole team is here you will get to know them and the official training will start.”
You nod and follow Aran who explains everything thoroughly.
“Can I ask you something?” You speak up when he shows you where the water bottles are kept and how to fill them up and wash them after use.
“Of course.”
“Kita-san said you don’t have a manager yet. Why is that?”
“Well, Shiraishi graduated last year and after it became clear that Kita was going to become the Captain, he wanted to wait a bit before we got a new manager. I don’t know if you’re aware, but our setter is pretty popular with the girls and I guess Kita didn’t want us overrun with fangirls.”
“Why? Who is your setter?”
Aran stops and turns around. “You don’t know?”
You shake your head, already panicking. Should you know?
“Oh, Samu’s going to love this. Well, we’re finished here anyway, so let's go meet the rest of the team. Just a fair warning, they are a rather rowdy bunch.”
But as you step back into the Gym, the boys are sitting on the floor, quiet like mice.
Kita’s standing next to what must be the trainer and waves you over.
“I’m Kurosu Norimune, First Coach.” He shakes your hand with a smile as you whisper your name before he turns around and announces it loudly to the students.
Some of them nod and at least Aran and Akagi smile up at you.
A boy with light brown, messy hair looks up at you with wide eyes and you wonder what’s so surprising about you. Is it your height, or lack thereof, or your weight?
You swallow thickly and miss at least half of the introduction.
And after that, everything comes to life.
“Hi, I’m Ginjima,” his eyes are still wide, but he’s smiling, a light blush adorning his face. You take a step back and his brows furrow. “I didn’t want to scare you, I just wanted to ask if you want to help me get the ball cart in? That’s usually my job.”
“Oh, of course.” You nod and trod along, trying not to lose him in the bustle of boys running around, setting everything up.
A few minutes later you’re standing on the side and watching, trying to gather their names from when Coach is shouting at them.
“Stop playing around, Atsumu!” That’s the guy with blond hair.
“Osamu! That was also meant for you!” He’s got grey hair.
“You could have gotten that, Suna!” This one turns and looks over as if you’d said it instead of Coach. He looks tired, but at the same time, a little… mean?
-
Too soon it’s break time and they all gather around you, pulling water bottles from your hands.
“Hey, I know you!” You blink up at the guy but you can’t really place his face. “You’re in Class 5, right? I’m Riseki!” He holds out your hand like he wants a high five and you cautiously tap his hand, not sure if that’s what you’re supposed to do.
“You’re cute,” he says, grinning from one ear to the other. Ginjima clears his throat pointedly next to him and your eyes drop back to the floor and all the water bottles you still need to pass around. Right. Work.
As it turns out, being a manager is a lot more work than you thought it would be. But it’s also a lot less hard than your classmates made it look like. You could totally do this every day. And why shouldn’t you, if they let you? You usually don’t like the books Literature Club reads together and you’re handwriting is too awful for that Club.
“What do you think?” Kita asks as he shows you how to disinfect the Volleyball’s one after the other. “Do you want to continue?”
“If I’m allowed to?”
He smiles and you can’t help but smile back.
If you’d get to have an older brother, you’d want him to be like Kita.
- - - xxx - - -
Droplets of water run down his back. It tickles, but he cannot focus on that right now.
“Are you sure Kita said that?” Ginjima asks again, hands practically folded in front of him.
“Absolutely positive,” Akagi confirms, “As soon as she was out of sight, he told us that no one was going to be allowed to ask her out. I mean, he said that we couldn’t make her uncomfortable by any means, but you know Kita, that’s what he meant.”
“Yeah, but he didn’t say it like that.” Tsumu declares pointedly, slinging a sweaty arm around Ginjima’s shoulders. “And you’ve seen our dear Ginjima. He’s fallen for her, he’s a lost cause already.”
“Ah, shaddap.” He throws him off, but Samu’s already there. “Hi, I’m Ginjima!” he teases, voice high. They all laugh, but Ginjima can’t help that he’s blushing. Again.
-
“I want to make clear,” Kita starts the next time they’re all at the Gym, no sight of you, “That no one is going to ask our new Manager out. I am aware that this affects your private life outside of Volleyball, but we don’t want to make her uncomfortable. If you cannot focus on anything but her, you have nothing to do in this team anyway.”
Suna whistles low through his teeth. “Damn, do you want her for yourself?”
Kita stares at him instead of answering and Ginjima swallows thickly, pulling his head in. So much for a chance at love.
-
But still, he can’t help himself.
Just because he cannot ask you out doesn’t mean he can help you, right? Get to make you smile or even laugh, maybe?
“Here, let me help.” He’s got an eye out for you, making sure you don’t overdo it. “That’s too heavy for you anyway.”
“I’m stronger than I look.” You protest and he has to force himself to look away when you flex your arms. He’s a little jealous and a little thankful that he’s not seen you in your uniform yet. He’s not sure what he’ll do if he does. Probably have a spontaneous heart attack.
- - - xxx - - -
“Where are you going?” You freeze, even though you shouldn’t.
“To my Club,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
“What Club? Who’s accepting Fatties?”
You swallow harshly, grab your bag and leave, hoping you can outrun them.
They don’t bother to follow but you know this isn’t going to be over soon.
But just for a little longer you want to have this for yourself, just be happy with how things are.
The boys are nice, Kita-san especially. He never gets mean and even when you get something wrong he just explains it calmly to you.
“We use this for disinfecting. You won’t get the same result otherwise.”
Aran’s super nice too, patting your head every time he walks past you like he’s blessing you. He doesn’t mind when you ask questions about Volleyball even though he’s probably explained most of it twice.
“Got that now? No. No problem at all. Maybe it’s easier if you picture the people. Kosaku and Riseki for example, are pinch-servers. Do you remember what that position means?”
Riseki, funnily enough, always asks you for help.
“Did you go over the math lessons already? You did? Sweet! Can you help me with them after training? We can do it here if you want. Kita doesn’t mind when we do our homework in here as long as we don’t disturb the others.”
Then there’s Ōmimi with his serious face who likes to trade books with you and Akagi who’s a bit too loud for your taste but always greets you with a joke.
“Where do the cows go to have fun? The Moovies!”
The second years, though you find the most difficult to work with.
The twins are loud and rowdy and Suna always gets this scary look on his face when he gets quiet. Ginjima always wants to talk to you and you don’t know why and Kosaku doesn’t talk at all.
You prefer to stick with the third years where you can and the first years when they call for you. No one from the Club is in your Class but just because you’ve made it one month doesn’t mean you will make it forever.
Eventually, you’ll be found out.
-
“Where are you going?”
You try to dash away but this time you’re not fast enough. You hear fabric rip, feel the rush of air around your legs as your skirt drops to the floor.
Laughter rings out in the mostly empty classroom as you gather the remnants of your uniform around you, leaving with tears streaming down your face.
You won’t be late, you promise yourself, even if you have to explain to your parents later why you need yet another expensive garment. You won’t be late, even if you have to wash your eyes with cold water in the bathroom to make sure you’re not found out.
“You okay? Your eyes are kinda red,” Ginjima points out the second you step into the Gym.
You nod and the lump in your throat makes your voice sound nasally.
“I’m fine. Just allergies.”
“Are you sure? If you’re sick you should go home and rest,” Kita had been in earshot, it seems. You shake your head. Home is the last place you want to be right now.
“It’s fine, I was just… my eyes were tearing up a lot.”
Kita doesn’t look convinced. He turns to the boys. “Start training. I’ll be back soon.”
Without another comment he grabs you by the arm and gently drags you outside.
“I’m really fine,” you insist once you’re outside and you can trust your voice again. “It’s just allergies.”
“You don’t get allergies from one day to the other. You can tell me what’s wrong. No one’s listening in.”
Fresh tears fall. “My skirt ripped.”
“Oh.” A pause. “That’s unfortunate. Can I see it?”
You freeze, shoulders pulled up. “What?”
“Can I see your skirt? I’m not that good at sewing, but Kosaku is. Maybe we can do something about it.”
He inspects the garment for a second before he tells you to wait here. When he comes back, he’s got Kosaku in tow who looks not the least bit confused.
“Oh yeah,” Kosaku inspects your skirt as well. “That’s an easy fix. I can mend this after practice if you want.”
“You can?”
“Of course.” He sounds a little displeased that you’re questioning his abilities and you bow, immediately apologizing.
“It’s fine. You can buy me some snacks as a thank you… Or not, nothing’s fine too.” He adds hurriedly but when you look up nothing’s amiss.
“Are you sure? I could bake something.”
“Only if it’s not too much trouble for you. I think all of the boys have a sweet tooth, so I wouldn’t be able to hold onto it for long.”
“They do?”
“Oh yeah. Especially Samu. Though to be fair, he devours everything edible.”
-
You’ve learned your lesson. You’re the first out of class and the last to step in.
Still you know you won’t be able to get away forever.
But you will enjoy it as long as it lasts.
“I made something,” you exclaim when it’s time for the first real break. You pull the large container from your bag and prop it up, open it to reveal a small mountain of sugar cookies. They’re not in season, but they’re easy to make.
Just as Kosaku predicted, Osamu’s the first to grab one. His face lights up like firework as he tastes it.
“Hey, leave me some!” Atsumu pushes him to the side and you flinch.
“Behave!” Ginjima crows and half of the team turns to look at him, his face turning almost as red as the Inarizaki tie. “We don’t want crumbs in the Gym,” he tries to explain. You offer the box to him next and his hands shake funny when he takes a cookie.
Maybe he’s just as anxious as you are, you think and send him a small smile. It only deepens the red on his face and you turn back, glad to see Aran approaching. Aran is safe.
- - - xxx - - -
“Does anyone know how we got her to make cookies?” Samu asks, licking the last remnants of his fingers.
Ginjima listens only with half an ear. You’re sitting on the other side of the large Gym, head bent over Riseki’s books as you explain something.
Why are you just so cute???
“I told her we all like sweets,” Kosaku explains simply.
“And she brought in sweets?” Suna’s voice is teasing enough to gather Ginjima’s whole focus.
“What are you saying?” He asks, voice skipping an octave.
“What do you think I’m saying?” Suna asks back.
“It’s just cookies,” Tsumu argues, clearly annoyed, “Can we get over it and start playing again? I’m getting bored over here.”
-
“Ginjima?” Kita’s voice cuts through the noise and he turns, half expecting a stern reprimand.
Instead, his captain stands stiff like a board, waving for him to come over. Next to him: You, head bowed.
He rushes over, heart thundering ahead.
“Yes, Captain?”
“Our dear manager isn’t feeling well. I trust you to walk her to the bus station.”
“Of course!” His heart beats in his throat now, but at least he managed to get that out. “Can I carry your stuff for you? That’s absolutely no problem!”
“I’m fine,” you whisper, but when Kita clears his throat pointedly you relinquish your bag to him
Ginjima makes sure to handle it with the utmost care, trying not to smile too brightly as he walks you out. Kita chose him for this job!
“Do you have a cold?” He asks as you walk. “Tsumu had it last week.”
“No, I don’t have a cold.” Your hands press against your stomach.
“Oh, a stomach bug then? Did you have the curry too today? I heard it wasn’t very good.”
“No… No, I didn’t.”
“Oh, what is it then? Do you have diarrhea?”
Your face pales and he goes almost cross-eyed looking for a trashcan to puke into. Instead, he finds a girl who’s pointing… at you.
“Are you for real?” She asks, voice shrill. “You’re a manager?”
“Who are you?” Ginjima asks, already pissed at the way she asked.
“Who are you?” She asks back. “And what lame kind of sport do you do that you allow Fatty over here to join?”
“What the hell-” He starts, hands balled to fists. “Who do you think you are?!”
She scoffs. “Like you need to know that, loser. Bye Fatty. I’ll see you.” She laughs and runs off and Ginjima has to grind his teeth to keep where he is instead of running after her.
After all, you’re still sick and Kita entrusted you to him!
“Are you okay?” He asks, turning back to you. “Do you know who that bitch is?”
You gasp.
“What?” He asks. “Like she didn’t deserve that title! You’re not fat. My uncle is fat but even if you were that’s no way to talk about you like that! She needs a good beating if you ask me.”
You look up at him, eyes welled up with tears. Your mouth opens and closes and he kinda has to guess what you want to know.
“My uncle?” He guess. “He’s got a disease… I can’t name it properly, but when he was my age he couldn’t move at all because of it and he got so depressed only food gave him a source of comfort. He’s a lot better now but he’s still got plenty of weight. Not that that drags him down if you’ll excuse that joke.” Ginjima can’t help but smile as he thinks of Uncle Keiji.
You shake your head and sniff.
“Oh, you need a tissue?” He pats down his jacket but comes up empty. “Here,” he slips out of it, “Just wipe your nose on it, I’ll wash it today, no problem.”
That’s when you start laughing, his jacket clutched in your hands.
He laughs along, a little confused, but hey, he got you cheered up again.
-
You don’t look up when the door opens. But the rest of your class does.
“It’s Miya Atsumu!” One of the girls whispers, clearly shocked.
“And his twin!” Someone else mutters equally impressed.
Ginjima leans around them and finds you easily, head bowed over a Bento Box.
“Hey!” He calls out to you. “You coming? We’re going up to the roof to eat.”
Your mouth opens and closes like a fish.
“Come on,” Suna’s voice drawls out lazily, “We don’t have all day.”
You nod, clearly confused, and grab your stuff, rush toward them.
“Who did you say was that bitch again,” Atsumu asks just as you’re a few steps from the door.
Ginjima pokes his head in again and smiles at the girl in question, baring his teeth.
“If you guys mess with our manager again,” Samu declares calmly, inspecting his fingernails, “Getting banned from our games will be the least of our problems. Are we clear?”
- - - xxx - - -
“Thank you for taking the time,” Kita closes the door behind him and smiles. The little storage room is cramped but filled with light from the evening sun.
“You wanted to talk to me?” You ask, hands fiddling. You haven’t lost your anxious ticks even after all these months.
“I’m resigning today,” he explains calmly. “It’s time to graduate. I thought Atsumu would be a good Captain. What do you think?”
You blink away a stubborn tear that won’t stay inside.
“He’ll need a little help,” you sniff, working against the lump in your throat. “But I’m sure he will do great.”
“You’ll help him, right?”
You nod, swallowing thickly. Kita’s warm hands land on your shoulders.
“Do you have any plans for the break?”
“No, not really.”
“Would you like to stay with us for those few weeks?”
You freeze.
“Are you… are you sure?”
“Yes. Granny would love you. I’m sure your parents won’t mind and you can help me with the harvest if you want. Or stay inside and help Granny with the house.”
Silence enfolds between you.
Eventually, with the warmest voice you’ve ever heard from him, he says “I’ve never had a little sister, but if I did… I’d want her to be like you.”
-
Ginjima’s eyes zero in on yours - surely red rimmed from all the bittersweet tears - but he doesn’t say anything.
Not long and Tsumu’s crying too, wiping his nose on his sleeve as Osamu blinks up into the sun, acting like he doesn’t care at all - the liar.
It’s hard, saying goodbye to the third years.
It will be different with them there, Aran’s daily blessings and Ōmimi’s book recommendations, Akagi’s silly jokes, and Kita’s calmness.
It will be different, but it won’t be bad. Not with all your friends around you.
“I entrust this Club to you,” Kita reminds Tsumu again as he leaves. “Every member and our shared goal. And don’t forget our dear manager.”
-
“What are you doing over the break?” Ginjima asks later as you wait for the bus.
Your hands fold around the seam of your skirt and you pinch it as if you remind yourself that this is real.
“I’m staying with Kita,” you tell him proudly, “He asked me to come.”
“Oh,” he makes and falls quiet.
“And you?”
“Training, I guess.” He pulls his shoulders up. “Text me when you get back, okay?”
“Okay.”
- - - xxx - - -
Another graduation comes much too soon.
Riseki’s crying this time, the captain’s title heavy on his shoulders.
“Ah, like you’d forget us,” Tsumu says but his voice is heavy with emotion.
Samu’s looking up and squinting into the sun, one of his eyes impressively bruised to match Tsumu. They’ve gotten into a fight this week and even though they refused to talk about it, everyone knows what it’s about.
-
“You coming in tomorrow?” Ginjima asks as he walks you home, the last bus long gone.
“For your graduation? Like I’d miss that.”
He smiles, fiddling something between his hands.
“You know, about that tradition… the second button… Did you get one so far?”
You laugh. “A second button? No way I’d get one.”
“But would you want one?”
You blink up at him. “Why would I want one?”
“Ah,” he smiles, “Just asking. Don’t all girls want one?”
“I dunno. Depends on the boy, I guess. Would you want one? From a girl, I mean?”
He blushes furiously and you snicker, digging your elbow into his side.
“Come on, tell me. Who is it you like?”
His smile turns pained and you step away.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to push you. It’s your decision to tell me.”
“Thank you. Though, I guess…” He holds out his hand. In it lies a button. “I think I should give it to you. For safekeeping, you know.”
“You don’t think she’ll accept it?”
“Doesn’t matter,” he tells you, voice strained, “I’m not allowed to date her anyway.”
“Oh, that sucks.” You pick the button from his hands and hold it up to the light. “But if you entrust me with it I will keep it safe until it changes. Would that be okay?”
He nods, redfaced, clearly unable to speak.
You tap his elbow with yours and walk on, slowly.
“Did I tell you about my summer plans?” You ask. “Kita got me a job at an accounting firm in Osaka. It’s nothing much but he thinks I might like it. What are your plans?”
-
Your hand is on Riseki’s shoulder and you’re crying along.
It’s different when you’re the one who’s leaving. Fresh-faced first-years look back at you. The second years mourn the games they could have played - lost to Karasuno yet again.
A new manager will help them go on and though you doubt the friendship will stay beyond these gym doors, you’ve burned her kindness into your heart.
“And don’t forget,” Riseki reminds them one last time, “Kita-san’s rule! Do not date the manager!”
You stop and turn, the tears forgotten for a moment.
“What?” You ask, not unlike a few of the boys who’ve been eyeing sweet Oyama for the better part of last year.
Riseki stumbles, clearly confused by the question.
“Yeah, he told us when you came in. It was very important to him so it must be important for the team. Keep that in mind, will you!”
They agree, some more, some less eager.
You resolve to ask Kita about it the next chance you get. After all he promised to come in tomorrow for your graduation.
- - - xxx - - -
“Ginjima!” You hug him, tears streaming from your eyes. “You came? What a surprise!”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” He says, proud that it succeeded. “The rest of the gang is also here!”
“Heeeyy!” Suna waves lazily. There’s also Tsumu and Samu, fighting over a Bento Box like in the good old days, and Aran who’s blessing you with one of his well-missed head pats.
Akagi drags Ōmimi and Kosaku over and for a moment, too short but still so precious, it feels like nothing changed.
“These are my parents!” You introduce them, grinning from one ear to the other. “Do you mind if I go out to eat with the boys?”
The boys. Ginjima’s heart sinks and lifts at the same time. He’s nothing but one of the boys.
Not like Kita who addresses your parents by first name.
But, he thinks when you fall into step with him, whispering how you’ve still got that second button if he needs it, not all hope is lost, right?
-
“Sit next to me,” he asks when you find chairs at the Izakaya. Half the team grins knowingly but you still don’t get it.
“No, no, I insist,” He pushes your hand back when you try to pay for your food. “It’s on me.”
“Let me walk you home, please.” He asks when they gather outside.
Tomorrow he’s going to be back in Osaka where his job waits for him.
Tomorrow you’ll be nothing but a too vivid memory of something that never got to be real.
Tonight you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.
“Sure,” you say, waving at the others, promises of meeting up soon hanging in the air. It’s been a year. It never gets easier.
But still, he leaves without a kiss, without a confession, without anything that means anything.
Because he can see it in your eyes, wide and warm and lovely, that you don’t get it. Maybe you never will.
But that’s okay. Or at least it will be okay someday.
- - - xxx - - -
“So you’re staying?” Samu asks as he plates the food. “For real?”
“For real!” You agree, breaking apart the chopsticks. “What should I try first?”
“Whatever you want. Everything’s good.”
“Wow, what about being humble?” You ask, digging in.
He laughs. “When have I ever been humble?”
“A lot,” you point out, mouth full. “Gosh this is good. Tsumu was always more arrogant.”
“True,” he jokes. “Have you seen him lately?”
You shake your head.
“Suna? Aran? No wait, Kita.”
You snort. “I see Kita at least once a month. That’s not news.”
“Ah yes, Kita, the love of your life.” Samu swoons, clutching his chest. You furrow your brows.
“What do you mean?”
“What?” Samu grins. “You’ve been a thing since when, his graduation?”
You choke on a bit of Onigiri. “What?! No! EW!”
“What?” Samu laughs disbelievingly. “I mean Ginjima told me you went to his place for the break. That’s kinda like making it official.”
“NO!” You belt out, horrified. “That’s what you all thought? But I was… But he is… We’ve always been more like brother and sister.”
Samu shrugs. “I mean he never seemed to mind that Ginjima was head over heels for you, so I didn’t bother-”
Your jaw slackens. “What?” You ask, voice breaking. “Ginjima was what?”
Samu halts, bottle of soy sauce in his hands.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”
“How would I know?”
“How would you not?! He’s got a crush on you since the day you started! Kita made it very clear though that no one was allowed to ask you out and Suna thought it was because he called dibs on you… Are you okay?”
You shake your head.
If he’d pulled the floor from under your feet you couldn’t have been more at a loss.
“Oh my god. I still have his second button.”
“Who’s?” Samu asks, taking a piece of Nigiri Sushi from your plate and popping it into his mouth.
“Ginjima’s.”
“Damn. That guy was bold. I mean I was never fully sure you were dating Kita after all, but at least Ginjima was convinced that you liked him more than him.”
“As a brother, maybe.” You huff, heart beating. Everything looks different now, looking back, with that information in mind.
“You need Sake?” Samu asks, voice comforting. “Or Soju?”
-
Sleep isn’t coming to you these days.
Kita’s explanations made sense - you had been afraid of everyone breathing back then, scared shitless every time someone other than him or Aran tried to speak to you - and you couldn’t hold it against him that he tried to protect you.
You’d have to talk to their current Captain though, to make sure that ridiculous rule wasn’t still in use.
You’d have to talk to Ginjima too at one point. But you don’t know what to say yet.
If you think of him now, all the moments you’ve been through together, the little things stand out so much more.
How he’d always been so eager to help, always wanting to talk.
How often he blushed around you.
How he defended you, told the other second years - no doubt that whole plan had been his idea.
You can’t think about all those quiet walks home, side by side yet barely touching, how he asked about your day and told you of his, without curling into a ball, warmth filling you to the point of overflowing.
If Kita’s the warmth of a fireplace in winter, a spot to stay safe and comforted, Ginjima is the warmth of the spring sun, guiding you outside. He’s the bright blue sky on summer days that makes you want to stay awake forever.
And every night, without fail, you pull his second button from its safe place and rest it where it had been on his blazer, on the place closest to your heart.
-
Ginjima works as a Gym Instructor now, not far from where you work.
Twice you’ve walked by and chickened out. You’re not sure you’ll be more successful today.
This time, though, you spot him through the tall windows.
He looks just like the last time you were a team, a towel slung around his shoulders.
It’s that sight that gives you the push you need and you step into the Gym, heart beating in your throat.
He turns and spots you, surprise widening his face. It reminds you of the first time you’ve met and your heart beats even faster.
“Hey!” He rushes over, almost tripping over a weight. “What brings you here.”
“I have something for you.” You stretch out your hand.
Ginjima stops and stares.
“I…” He starts, face split between confusion and pain he’s trying to hide. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s mine,” you explain nervously. “Samu told me… That you had a crush on me.”
“What?” He blushes furiously. “He told you what?”
“And that everyone thought I was dating Kita. We’re just... We’re just friends. Like brother and sister, actually. I didn’t know… I didn’t know you liked me,” your voice is getting lower but his eyes are wide.
“How could I not like you? You’re literally perfect!” He shouts and from somewhere behind him you can hear a voice shushing him.
You snort and he laughs, flustered, hand moving to take yours - and the button.
“And the No Date Rule?” Ginjima asks as if he’d only just remembered it.
“Officially no longer valid.”
- - - xxx - - -
“Lovebirds are in!” Tsumu declares loudly from the bar as the door opens. Ginjima shoots his cap at him, whistling in victory when he hits him square in the head.
“Don’t fight,” you chide behind him, your hand in his. “Are we late?”
“Nah,” Riseki waves from the other side, “Like you’d ever be. Ginjima should be glad to have you.”
“I am!” He declares. “Who’s questioning it?!”
“No one,” Kosaku drawls, hugging you as he moves toward the bathroom. But have some mercy on the single guys.”
“Hey, I could have a girlfriend if I wanted to!” Tsumu points out, followed by laughter.
On nights like this, when they all get together to watch one of them on TV - today it’s Aran - things hardly ever calm down.
But he wouldn’t change this for the world, not even when he has to work a shift tomorrow.
It reminds him of being young and a fool like he’s got nothing to lose and yet so much to fight for.
And when you curl into his side on the Couch, cheer him on when he manages to eat his bowl of soup faster than Tsumu, or defend him against Suna’s jabs he knows that nothing much has changed.
