independent Manjiro Sano / Mikey ; from Tokyo Revengers. — NOT SPOILER FREE. written by arph ( he / him ) . oc , double & crossover friendly. est. 2021
❛ I want to create a new era — ❜ How long ago did you say that with the earth and heavens as your witness ? The fog in your head obscures the right path; between the crushing weight of everything , what is there left to do but to walk off the edge with both eyes open ? Say , at least — wouldn’t you agree we had fun facing the sunrise together ?
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When there’s no present money could not already buy during the rest of the year, Christmas is little else than an excuse to throw a party, caring less for the meaning behind the holiday and more for the celebration itself… and an excuse to play a prank on his coworkers.
“There.” From where Ran and Mikey sit close together and away from the other executives, Ran’s finger points at a specific place: on the hinge of the open door leading to the balcony, where Rindou and Takeomi are talking about something unintelligible from the music playing loud enough to drown their voices. Directly above them hangs a mistletoe that would’ve been innocent if not for the strategic way it’d been placed the night before by none other than Ran himself, just like the rest of the hidden, but not overtly obvious, mistletoes all around the room.
He grins knowingly at Mikey, then points at the other end of the room, where Mocchi had been quicker to notice the little red pest over his and Koko’s heads, judging by the way his mouth pulls back into a full scowl. He looks around, looking for the culprit no doubt (there’s no such thing as a coincidence with these people), so Ran ducks his head into Mikey’s shoulder to hide his chuckle.
“Who do you think will cave in first? Maybe if we apply a bit of peer pressure… Tradition is tradition, after all.”
(And if Mikey chooses to look up, he'll see another mistletoe hanging above their own heads tooㅤ──ㅤno such thing as a coincidence, indeed.)
Curious dark eyes follow the direction Ran points to as he sees the mistletoe hanging oh so innocently above the unsuspecting pairs. A sharp exhale of air is all that betrays his humored mood, easy to miss to one who knew him less. Luckily, the witness today is far more familiar then then the common man.
Mikey plays with the strands of hair close to Ran's nape as he indulges in his husband's chuckles against his shoulder. It's therapeutic almost as he smooths it, leaning closer to Ran's ear, Mikey whispers to keep their secret even as the music conspired alongside the duo of this dastardly deed.
" Takeomi might do anything if he's drunk enough, but I think Koko would want to get us off his back first. " He wonders, is there a little gift above them as well. Glancing upwards, there hangs innocently exactly what he suspected. Cupping Ran's face he places three successive kisses upon his lips, one for each mistletoe. Maybe it's a little twist on tradition, but who will object?
" ─ but I guess I lost first this time. " contrary to his words, he feels quite certain he's won.
There's only one last gingerbread cookie left after the Toman members have ravaged through the entire Christmas party dinner. Though he's not hungry in the slightest, Seishu locks eyes with Mikey as he grabs it and takes a big bite out of it.
The sun has set, and the celebrations have finally calm down to a cut-throat game of mario kart, which means one mischievous Manjiro Sano can sneak back to the kitchen at a time where they'll be absolutely no one to tell him to save food for everyone else. With wiggling fingers, he pops up from the corner, happily making his way to the dessert table. There isn't much left, but there's a gingerbread cookie smiling up a him, and the icing isn't even cracked!
About to reach for it, the most annoying person he knows snatches it right from under his hands.
" —UWAH? THAT'S MINE ! " ( Is this revenge for giving Inupi the shorter popsicle that one time...? )
Barreling over he knocks into Inupi dragging them both to the floor as he straddles the taller boy to stop any escape. He just needs to grab his arms now and pin him, and the gingerbread will be well won. " Give it to me! "
heart a fluttering hummingbird, head a home for all things in disarray.ㅤpeople pass him by in a blur, their quickened footsteps pushing cameras and lights alike little else but white noise to the buzzing in his ears.
takemichi's nervous. he's so nervous he feels like his breakfast is going to end up a pile of bile on the floor and ruin the cleaning staff's day. he's so nervous he almost wants to call the whole thing off and tell the entire production to go home.
all these peopleㅤ───ㅤthey're all here for him. they're all here because they believe he has something worthwhile to say, something worthwhile to show, and he has to get it together or he'll be wasting all their time and effort.
he steels himself to fake at least some part of the composed film director he's supposed to be, but instead of another team member asking for his opinionㅤ( his opinion! ),ㅤhe finds the star of the show behind him. takemichi opens his mouth to ask if everything's alrightㅤ( wasn't he supposed to be getting ready for shooting? ),ㅤthen abruptly closes it. opens it again and laughs.
ㅤㅤㅤ‘ㅤwhoa, the makeup team really did a number on you!ㅤ’ㅤㅤhe says, almost out of breath, leaning in to examine his eyes. they're darker now around the edges, sharper, and takemichi can't help but laugh again, delighted in his disbelief.ㅤㅤ‘ㅤis that eyeliner?ㅤhow did they getcha to sit still long enough for that?ㅤ’
The camera isn't new — he's grown used to the rapid flash when his motorcycle roars across the finish line with resounding cheers. There's even been a few times where he actually stops to answer some questions from the press, but Mikey thinks this might be the only time it really matters because it's for Takemitchy.
So when he sees the schedule, one Manjiro Sano actually arrives on time though with the haze of sleep still in his eyes and unchanged from his pajamas. The crew pokes his eye for the third time as his body slumps over in an attempt to sleep again , and still he only puts one staff member in a headlock (without threatening to kill him) before he's sitting again trying to stop fidgeting in his seat. He even tolerates them changing his outfit several times, but it's unforgivable when they usher him onto the set and still he hasn't even been able to see the one person he's doing it all for. As soon as the staff members turn their back, swift as ever he sneaks away.
Standing at a distance away, Mikey watches his friend silently.
Takemichi wears happiness well.
At long last, he steps forward, sandaled feet (selected shoes from the staff conveniently tossed to aside) , hands in his pocket, and it's as if no time has passed at all. "Director," he says, grin growing, comprised of equal parts teasing and pride as he gently bumps his fist against Takemichi's shoulder.
"They didn't." he admits. Laughter is contagious, and he's cracking up too as he recounts — "Might have scared one of them a bit, sorry ! " he says, without remorse. "This place looks cool. Is it what you wanted it to be?"
killing underworld living legends and usurping their empires were easier missions than taking one manjiro sano's old, raggedy blanket away from him for a well-deserved wash, better kept under his watch than even some of their most classified documents. if ran could have it his way, he would throw the entire thing away so it would never sully their bed ever again, but he supposes marriage demands sacrifices to be made... some come in the form of not being able to invite old friends to special annivesaries, others in indulging your significant other's cute but health-hazardous quirks.
it doesn't stop ran from adapting, however.
ㅤㅤㅤ‘ㅤthat's terrible,ㅤ’ㅤㅤhe says, with the cadence of a person who does not see what's so terrible about it. throwing an arm around mikey's shoulders, he not so subtly pushes him in the opposite direction, towards the door.ㅤㅤ‘ㅤi'm sure it'll show up just where you left it in an hour or two. now, how do you feel about getting some crepes? i saw a new stall in the city... ㅤ’
make way, make way ; strongest sorcerer comin' through ! here's ( yet another ) brand-new roleplay blog ( 21+ ) for gojō satoru of 呪術廻戦 jujutsu kaisen by akutami gege. independent, selective, mutuals-only & primarily based on the manga as of now. est. july 2023. please hit ♡ or ↻ if you're interested in interacting & i promise i'll check your blog out ! written by kae. ( 28, she/they )
a possessive kiss in front of a jealous third party
𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐲,ㅤran knows the monster within is monstruous not for its violence, but for its love. mikey's heart might have a void, but it is not empty, it is not gone. it transforms, instead, into a beast long starved of affection that ran coaxes out with pastries and sugar-sweet kisses and soothes to sleep when the sun is still high up in the sky.
when mikey aims his love towards him like a loaded gun, ran forgets to exist. he forgets to smile coyly at watchful eyes he's caught tracing the sharp cut of his suit, forgets to encourage the attention he thrives off of like a sunflower chasing the sunlight.
who would've thought marriage would change him?
it's not that he's unawareㅤ───ㅤran's easy smile might not betray vigilance, but his eyes are always watching. he'd never had the luxury of not paying attention to his surroundings, from the crime-filled streets of roppongi in his childhood to the bloodied warehouses where bonten keeps their hostages looking for ways to escape. it rings truer in situations like this, where a rapid-growing syndicate has been shaking up tokyo's underground with turf wars among the districts, as if the smaller gangs roaming about believed they owned anything in bonten's japan and had to defend their borders against these newcomers, and they are currently holding audience with mikey.
ran knows all about them. of course he does; not even the delicate flaps of a butterfly's wings would escape his notice. he knows that they originated in kabukicho as a nightclub offering their women's services for drugs and eventually started trading them for one another, knows that they'd threatened the renegade thugs around into submission or death as soon as they "earned" the money to upgrade knives to guns, knows that there's civil unrest and hope both for a second coming of bonten or the rise of someone who could finally dethrone them, and knows that their boss's right-hand man fancies him.
of course he knows. he simply does not careㅤ───ㅤbut his husband does.
mikey attending these meetings, though necessary for the sake of tradition, is more formality than anything. an intimidation tactic. there is no one who hasn't heard of bonten's invincible leader, but very few get to see him in the flesh instead of being directed to his executives first, deadly as they are efficient enough that such matters don't tend to reach the boss outside of a report after all has been taken care of. the peculiarity hereㅤ ( and ran has to smile wider at it, tilting his head as he catches sight of the bead of sweat dripping down one of the subordinates' temple )ㅤis that they seek an alliance. their boss sits at one end of the hardwood table, right across from mikey, and his two companions stand at either side of him. ran and sanzu stand at mikey's. none of them carried any weapons, as per their agreementㅤ───ㅤthe second request was to only bring two of their men, and the third was that ran was to be one of them.
takeomi had seen benefits to this union, and ran had backed up his theories with the intel he and rindou had gathered in the last couple of months; it's how he'd met the boss' second in command, kaneshiro. while rindou punched blood and answers out of the nightclub staff, ran had settled comfortably at the bar and loosened the man's lips with sweet words and drinks alike, coaxing out all he needed to know at the moment. he was almost surprised to hear he'd been the one to request ran attend this meeting, but his purpose had long run out, and ran had no interest in entertaining any hopes he might have lead him on into having. ran lets him watch him as much as he wants; tonight would be the last time they'd ever be in the same room together, even if the alliance came through. to expect the upper echelon of bonten to bother any longer with some greenhorns was a laughable show of arrogance on their part.
maybe some time back he would've revelled in the attentionㅤ───ㅤno, he would have thought it just as natural as breathing: ran haitani exists, and people could not help themselves but to look, but to envy, but to want. and it would've delighted him.
but where he'd once indulge, he hardly spares kaneshiro a glance. he and sanzu are thoroughly reading the documents detailing the specifications of their negociation before deeming them safe enough for mikey to sign, every now and then consulting each other in murmurs as to not take their boss's attention away from the people across the table. they're not yet allies, after all.
ran hums questioningly at the paper in his hand, reading the same line over once, twice, then bends over to ask mikey about it. as he does so, he feels kaneshiro's eyes observe the way his necktie loses grip around his white collar, giving way for it to open a little and reveal silvers of inked skin usually hidden beneath pristine suits. this, too, is to be expectedㅤ───ㅤbut what's not expected is the hand snapping up to grab the back of his neck, not violently, but purposeful. ran barely has a moment to blink in surprise as he's guided towards his husband, only catching a brief glimpse of his face, and mikey captures the laughter before it escapes his lips when ran realizes he might not have been paying much mind to kaneshiro's oogling, but mikey definitely had.
kissing mikey has always been a game, much like the moments that had bonded them together in the first place, each childish action an added weight on the tightrope that had kept their relationship strictly professional. it's always soft giggles in between slow kisses, from the euphoria of a successful joint prank or the quiet joy upon the wake of relaxing naps. the hand on ran's neck does not feel like a game. the scathing way mikey had looked at kaneshiro before claiming ran's lips was not playful. it felt like a statement:
he's my husband.
ran hears it crystal clear in the furious, wet smack of their lips, in mikey's insistence in keeping him in place where all the occupants in the room could watch ran get ravishedㅤ───ㅤran certainly felt like it, unableㅤ( unwilling )ㅤto take a step back to regain any sense of decorum, of shame. he caresses mikey's lower lip with his tongue instead, sighing contentedly into their kiss when mikey's response is to bring him closer, as if he could merge ran into the void of his heart and stop prying eyes from fantasizing about what's his. and to be loved so overwhelmingly, so deeply, so assertivelyㅤ───ㅤin the fog of his mind, more lost and more drunk by the second off the taste of mikey's lips, ran thinks that he wouldn't mind going as far as his husband wants to take this, that he'd follow along and show them just how much ran belongs to him and him only. giddily, deliriously, he wonders if mikey would like to switch their usual dynamics to bend ran over this mahogany desk and stain these documents. ran thinks he would let him. he also thinks he'd enjoy the feeling of kaneshiro's eyes on him then.
the hand on his neck traces a gentler path to his jaw, cupping his cheek, a calloused thumb stroking the soft skin beneath. ran hums audibly, low enough to be a groan trapped down his throat, unable to find its way out with mikey's tongue staking its claim on ran's. his back is starting to ache from this position, but it's a low price to pay for the goosebumps on his arms and the heat pleasantly spreading throughout his body, coiling just below his stomach.
when the burn in his lungs starts to annoy, ran pulls back slightly to gasp for air, but mikey follows him closely, trapping his breath in between them, stealing it right out of his mouth, and continues kissing him like he couldn't get enough of him, like ran intoxicated him as much as mikey intoxicated him, and the mere thought of the immensity of his husband's desire for him makes ran moan loadly, unabashed.
someone's clearing their throat. too caught up in each other, neither of them pay them any mind, but the snap of sanzu's irritated voice is followed by shuffling footsteps and the sound of the door opening. ran pulls away enough to see him near-push them all out, and makes eye contact with kaneshiro for the first time this evening.
ran winks at him. mikey grabs his face again and kisses him again, again, again, bruising the shape of his lips into ran's, teeth biting hard enough to draw blood and licking the cut skin clean, and ran moans breathily once more, almost drowned out by the closing door.
he pulls back, breathing heavily. strands of carefully styled hair are now brushing free against his eyelashes. forehead pressed against mikey's, not keen on stepping back just yet, he can't help but give him another kiss, chaste this time, and chuckles when mikey attempts to following him again. ran playfully presses a finger on his husband's lips to keep him in place as he stands back up.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ‘ㅤthis deal was going to be so useful,ㅤ’ㅤㅤthe pout in his voice is rendered useless by the mirth in his eyes and the flush painting his fair cheeks pink. his chest is still visibly moving up and down, voice still breathless, still panting lightly, head cotton-light.ㅤㅤ‘ㅤbut i'm pretty sure you made a certain someone a little upset... would you really risk it all for me?ㅤ’
swinging a leg over mikey's, he moves to stand in front of him, not quite straddling him yet, and runs his tongue over his own kiss-swollen lips. with one hand, he firmly keeps his husband seated by grabbing his shoulder, and with the other, he tugs his necktie free, popping a few buttons open. he smiles slowly, teasingly, and trusts that sanzu locked the door on his way out.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ‘ㅤwell, then... why don't you let me show you just how much i appreciate it?ㅤ’ㅤ
@sanchiyos moving for legacy editor; continued from here
Tip toeing to peek over the shelves , he waves at Sanzu to show his location — “ Good find. ” Onigiri and sandwiches may not last on the road for a long time , but they certainly could enjoy it now. " Is there an egg salad sandwich ? "
Though their profession as they knew it was inevitably changed , the rules of survival had stayed the same. Immediately he drops their lighthearted conversation and listens to the steps in the distance.
Moving instinctively , he lowers towards the ground padding silently over to Sanzu. Food forgotten he listens to the steps. Is it one of those creatures they encountered ? Other humans ? He looks towards his second , and though he doesn’t doubt that their lethal potential is unmatched , he wonders if a conflict is worthwhile.
He can't help but to give a lopsided smirk , since when have they ever backed down from a fight ? " I'll head right. " he whispers. " Get ready to head to the back doors if there's more then we expected. "
if shinichiro closed his eyes, the ramp would turn into empty streets, and the vibrations beneath his wheelchair would become bumps in the road his bike would carelessly drive over, because they were young and reckless and running away from a future that they wish would never catch up with them. shinichiro closes his eyes, feels the wind brush away the hair from his face, and says:
‘ it used to be the other way around. i'd come pick you up from your hospital room after work every day, and then push your wheelchair all around the garden so you could get some sun. you've always been such a little rascal, i worried that being stuck inside all day would stop you from getting better. you were already getting so skinny as it was, but i couldn't stand to see you becoming so pale. haruchiyo and keisuke would drop by sometimes and help, of course, but they couldn't stay long... don't hold it against them, i know it was difficult for them to see you like that but i never lost hope. i always knew you'd come back to us. ...but it was so hard, manjiro. it was so hard. ’
... huh? that's not right. that's not true.
manjiro has always been here, and it was shinichiro who was gone.
as if to stop a locked up secret from spilling, shinichiro's hand automatically covers his mouth shut with an audible slap, fingers clammy against his face. they shake with enough force to chatter his teeth, or perhaps it has more to do with the way his stomach drops to his feet and is replaced by cold, cold, cold. shinichiro feels three years old again, begging dad to scare away the monster under his bed, a threat he cannot see but knows is there. dad would make a show out of searching every dark corner in his room then sit on his bed, stroke his hair, and say: there's nothing there, shin. you're okay.
he's okay. he's okay. shinichiro laughs again, wiping the sweat off his palms on his hospital gown, and throws a grin up at his little brother.
‘ sorry, i think i'm not all back here yet, ’ he says, tapping his head with his index finger. ‘ it must've been a bad dream. let's go find somewhere to sit. ’
Mikey's steps slow to a halt as he listens to Shinichiro. The sensation of fear hadn't cross him for a long time , not when a gun was pointed to head , and when his own hands were stain in red.
Yet , there's something utterly haunting about the way his brother speaks of this as if it were his reality , a stream of words without pause detailing a world that doesn't exist. ( or perhaps never came to pass ? ) Mikey had never once considered what it would be like to be bound to his own flesh , just a shell to watch the world pass by.
" Hey — ? " he places his hand on Shinichiro's shoulder in support. He's too fragile to think of such things. It's Mikey's turn to protect him , even if it's from his own mind. " I'm right here. " but just as suddenly as the story was recounted it seems to stop.
Quietly Mikey brings them to a shaded spot beneath a tree where a gentle breeze passes by carrying a wave of fresh air without the chill of the outdoors. Tentatively he gazes as Shinichiro from the corner of his eyes." Is that the dream you were having ? Were you in a place where I was hurt instead ? "
It was painful to think that not even slumber would show mercy to the man who only knew how to give. A bad dream , Shinichiro had said. Then what this waking world be ? A nightmare ? No — he'll bury anything , anyone , he needs to.
I have like 2 threads left for Mikey (1 for sanzu & 1 for shinichiro) If I haven't replied by today please let me know because that means I missed your response! Since the legacy editor changed my tracker no longer works I'm working purely on tumblrs notif system.
I'll also say if anyone wants to drop any threads that's completely fine too!
I apologize for not starting any new in a long while I've just been overloaded with work and stuff with very little time for hobbies BUT I am still around I am not ready to abandon this boy T_T I answer stuff very slowly but I can always plot w/ ppl but I will admit right now that I don't have many ideas so I don't want to make anyone carry the entire thread.
I know I owe a bunch on my other blogs and I will eventually get to those but it will not be today.
the last time someone had touched seishu so casually like this, he'd been five years old and his sister ten, all too eager to show him the correct way to draw a tree. her slender hand had wrapped around his like an embrace, easily covering his little fist with her warm palm. seishu had grumbled back then, something or other about him knowing what he's doing and not needing her helpㅤ ㅤand she had laughed, amused and endeared and a little haughty, the way older siblings tend to do when they think they know better than you, and moved his hand like it was her own.
he wishes she could tell him what to do now, close his eyes and cleanse all thoughts and let her pull him behind her, but neither akane or shinichiro were there to hold his hand and guide him anymore. he lets mikey move him instead, lips pursed for once not in disdain, but in acquiescence.
mikey is strong. seishu had never doubted this, even if he hadn't known the true magnitude of it until seeing it with his own eyesㅤ ㅤit wasn't the strength he'd been looking for, but a strength nonetheless, stronger than seishu ever was.
he's so unlike seishu, right now, who had spent the days, months, years after akane's death passing out in dirty back alleys and waking up wishing he didn't and bloodying his knuckles on broken noses from people who could not fight back and hating the world and himself.
maybe it's different for older brothers who had promised to look after their little sisters, and that's why mikey would still dare to dream of a future after emma's death. maybe akane would have been like this, too, had seishu been the one who faded in the flames. maybe that's the way it should have been in the first place.
he sighs.
ㅤㅤ‘ ...i had sister. akane. she died some years ago. ’ㅤㅤthe words are blunt and without decorum, mumbled through lips where comfort was a foreign language, and he instinctively crosses his arms over his chest, gaze focused on the window as he turns to lean his back against the wall next to the now-fixed poster. he does not say are you okay?, or how are you holding up?; he remembers that being asked of him and the lack of choice for answers other than i'm fine, i'm fine, as if it's something to ever feel fine about.ㅤㅤ‘ i'm not telling you to talk about it. but if you do, i'm just saying i somewhat get it. i won't tell anyone, either. ’
Mikey did not care about the gossip of delinquents , bit even Inui's story had reached his ears one time or another. It was something that was rehashed and retold when a scar laid so blatantly upon a face. There were retellings where some people claimed Inui had set the fire himself , and others where he paid someone to do it. From one sentence , Mikey understands that it was only that — gossip.
They aren't friends , but maybe that's why it feels safer to talk to him. Everyone else would try to help him without understanding there was no way to. He looks at Inupi silently , pondering all the way their lives had crossed paths.
Oh , what a life they've had.
Mikey suddenly feels very far away.
If only talking about it was something he could do. He still doesn't understand what it means for Shinichiro to be dead , and he hasn't grasped Izana's passing either. And Emma — ? Mikey still expects to wake up to smell of breakfast and the call of her voice before school , but he doesn't know how to put any of this into words so he settles for the next best thing. " — I don't feel very strong. " he admits.
It's like the strength leaves his body as he lets go and sinks to the old floor. Tracing the patterns left behind on the ground , he wonders the purpose of winning every fight when someone he loves ends up dead each time. Falling into nothingness , silencing the world , it all sounds enticing , but Mikey can't stop. He has to honor them all in any way he can.
— but he can't keep selfishly dragging his friends a long to be collateral damage. Some things are meant to be finished alone. Drawing his coat's collar up to his face , he pulls it tighter and wishes it was his Toman uniform. Mikey murmurs , not knowing if the other can hear , " I'm so tired Inui. "
@sanoism from here [ X ] moving over from legacy editor. also answering this fifty fucking years later
Not that Mikey was particularly high up standing on the counter in the kitchen, but if he fell off of it Draken supposed the impact would at least hurt for a few minutes afterward. And Mikey was so nimble at it too just like he had been jumping up and kicking one of Draken's old middle school bullies in the face. Apparently Mikey was just good at everything like that, Draken was realizing.
Black eyes scanned the few things in his crossed arms as Mikey climbed back down, and Draken ultimately decided on two cookies and a lollipop, the latter of which got put in his pocket and the cookies held in his hand to go out the door with him. Handing the remaining things back to Mikey, Draken's back stiffened again at the mention of his guardian; there Mikey went again bringing up the idea of coming over to Draken's place.
"Uh, yeah, sure. I can try, but no promises." Taking a few steps backwards before pivoting and turning to start walking towards the front door, Draken took a bite out of one of the two cookies he took so he didn't have to say anything else right away. "You wanna hang out here after school tomorrow? I don't have chores to do on Thursday so as long as I get my homework done before bed Masemichi doesn't give a shit what I get up to."
Packing away the snacks, he expertly smooths them out. By the time anyone realizes sneaky little hands pilfered through them , Mikey would be long gone.
There's a reason he thinks , that maybe Draken doesn't want him going to his home. Mikey has an idea , and he knows he shouldn't , but silently he makes a decision that he'll follow Draken home. It'll just be one glimpse , quick and quiet. In truth , he can't help but to wonder if Draken needs help. Is someone being mean to him ?
It was hard to imagine Draken letting people boss him around , but adults were funny like that. Sometimes they needed a kick to the face too. If it turns out Draken's home is just stinky with his dirty laundry or something he'll leave without a word.
Quick as the fall of his smile occurred, it is replaced just as easily — " Yeah sure! I'll see you tomorrow then. "
" Make sure you got everything cause if you come back at night I might just sleep through your knocking. "
Kazutora eases out of the car once the door is opened, a bit caught off-guard when it’s opened for him instead of him opening it on his own, but nonetheless he follows Mikey just like he did back in old times. Blinking, he stares at the menu as he doesn’t quite process any of the words just yet, moreso trying to now determine why the server seemed.. terrified, to say the least. Even as they’re led to the table, he barely processes any of the words right away as they’re spoken to him.
Once they’re sitting down at the table and the menu is laid down, golden eyes finally look at the old friend as his brain finally catches up. “No, no, it’s just..” What is it? Why is it so hard for him to agree to return? Why does it feel like something’s stuck in his throat at the idea of it? “I.. The idea of seeing the others again.. and on the same side, even after what I did.. It.. It feels.. surreal, I suppose. I don’t think I’d have any right to return and act as if nothing ever happened, no matter how much I’d love that in a perfect world.”
But the world isn’t perfect. Neither is he, neither is Mikey. No one and nothing. No matter what people thought of themselves, or how things seemed. “And how is it there’s money involved?” He knows to the outside person, it sounds like he’s questioning the gang but he’s more taken aback by the idea. Never had he imagined Toman becoming an income for any of them, which partially concerns him considering how he always heard of the Black Dragons operating. “I mean, if everyone was getting paid, I can’t imagine that’d be easy to do if it wasn’t a good amount, depending how much Toman has grown while I was gone.”
Perhaps a lifetime of cowards shaking in their steps at the sight of him has numb Mikey to the fear stricken faces that surround him. He scans the menu too — there’s the perfect amount of nostalgia for him to know exactly what he wants: omurice straight from the kid’s menu.
He clicks his tongue in annoyance , tapping at the edge of the table. It isn’t directed towards Kazutora , but the past that always seems to creep up from beneath the ground. “ I meant it you know , all those years ago when I said I forgave you. ”
“ If anyone has a problem with you , they have a problem with me. ”
The waiter seems well trained as he stumbles over without so much as a wave of Mikey's hand. Without sparing a glance for the waiter, he points to the omurice, never breaking sight of Kazutora. " We really did it. " he confirms , " We've expanded across the country and we have no plans to stop. It's on a matter of time before we have dealings with other groups outside of Japan. "
That dream they had was slowly coming to truth. We're going to take over the whole world. He does not allow himself to think of the bearers of the original wish laying six feet under ground. All would be set right with Kazutora's return.
