when hanma shuji disappeared without a trace, without a goodbye, you were quite sure that a part of you will always love him. when he shows up years later, all grown up, he is no longer the sweet shuji you remember him as.
pairing : hanma shuji x reader
content : angst with comfort. 2.4k words
warnings : swearing, violence, gang activity, guns.
the one question that usually comes up at every late night conversation while sharing drinks with a friend is, “have you ever been in love?”
“yes,” you answer wholeheartedly, because it is the truth. growing up, leaving the comforts of childhood and venturing into the adult world is confusing as hell, but there is one thing you know for sure.
you have been in love back when you were sixteen. with hanma shuji. if anyone asks a follow-up question asking whether you still love this man, you say, “no, i don’t. it was a long time ago. it was probably just puppy love.”
now, that response is reeking with lies after another.
no, you haven’t moved on. a part of your heart will always be a little bit in love with hanma shuji. it might have been a long time ago, but it feels like yesterday when you were holding hands as he walked you to your house. finally. no, it wasn’t just puppy love.
you didn’t know much about love back then but the way his body melts perfectly into yours and the safety you felt when he embraced you was enough of an explanation that you two were in love.
there is no other explanation except for love in all the nights he stayed up to throw rocks at your childhood bedroom’s window to grab your attention after a petty fight, or when he climbed up to your room with his tall and lanky body so he can pepper your face with kisses as an apology.
if it wasn’t love, how can you explain that one midnight when he got beaten up and didn’t want to go home, so he went to you to seek solace. when the boy who others thought was so cool behaved like a baby just so you would cuddle him, comfort him. when he let you put hello kitty band-aids on the cuts on his forehead.
how can anyone accuse you of not being in love if everything shuji did that endangered his safety, killed you a little bit inside everytime he did them? was it really not love if shuji did everything to protect the blissful innocence of your childhood, all while he suffered at his abusive home?
you loved him without question.
hanma shuji loved you dearly.
at least, that was what you believed until you wake up one morning, and he wasn’t there waiting at your doorstep to walk you to school. until he disappeared into thin air, not leaving even at least a shadow of his existence.
sometimes, at random times, flashbacks of your sixteen-year-old self plays in your mind like a vintage tape. reminding you of the day you walked around his sketchy neighborhood with tears in your eyes and sobs leaving your lips as you knocked on every door, asking where shuji went.
their house was empty. not even a single furniture was there, but you guess it has always been that way even when they were there. his house that he shared with his parents didn’t feel like home, didn’t feel safe. and after shuji left that house, it was nothing more than just a structure of drywall and peeling paint.
of course, you also recall reaching his phone a million times through calls and texts. at first, the calls still went through and it rang his phone, but he never answered them. you held on to that, until he one day cut all possible ties when the number he once used was no longer available.
it was cruel that a girl that young had to go through such a heartbreak. there wasn’t enough apologies fate could offer you for all the nights you spent crying, staring at your window hoping shuji would start throwing rocks again.
the pain in his absence was the only thing that reminded you of him, ironically. so you held on to it for a long time, because the hurt was proof that he was real. it was the last piece of evidence that you were loved by hanma shuji.
you chose to rise past the truth that he left you without a word, choosing instead to remember the good times you had. there were a lot. they were enough.
all these years, when you think of shuji, you picture him as someone who is a lot taller and more handsome than he already was before. you see him remaining sweet but still a bit of a troublemaker, but nonetheless, kind.
you took comfort in those thoughts. he’s in a better state now, for sure. he’s probably moved far away from his abusive parents, living in a big house just like you two used to dream of, eating sumptuous meals, and generally just living well.
after spending the night at the karaoke place with your officemates, you bid each of them goodnight and you start walking the dimly lit street. there are barely any taxis passing by, so you continue walking to help ease off the tipsiness brought by the bottle of beer you ordered.
a few minutes later, you almost reach the front of another alley. at first, there were muffled noises that you brush off as usual city noise. the closer you walk, the louder those muffled noises become.
until you stop walking altogether to turn your head towards the dark alley. the first sight you register is a broad back of a tall man in a suit. with... a gun. and in front of him... a person with a white cloth as a gag on his mouth.
you gasp, but you are also quick to cover your mouth with a palm. as much as you want to run away, your feet are glued in place. if you do run away, your legs will only fail you with how badly they are trembling.
the man in the suit can turn around anytime and find you. but you can’t. at this second, you don’t realize it yet, but you are exactly the characters the horror movies who you bash for being stupid.
“any last word?”
you shiver at the lack of emotion in the voice of the man. it is cold, heartless. the voice of a criminal who has no regard for life.
“please! please! let me live! i really do not know who killed kisaki tetta! i swear it wasn’t me! i have a family! my two daughters are waiting so please-” the helpless bloodied man earns a kicking on the stomach.
“i said word. that’s too many, you piece of shit.”
you hear the cucking sound of the gun, and the tall man aims it to the forehead of the man kneeling before him. can you just watch it happen? the man said it himself, he has a family. he has daughters.
before you can even think, you sob out, “no, please! don’t!”
the two men simultaneously looks at you. the man in a suit freezes before he moves his body to completely face you. however, your eyes are set on the man kneeling. you ran to him, stupidly so, and you try to free him from his restraints despite shaking so badly.
you wonder why the man in a suit doesn’t move to stop you. to kill you. to dispose of you after interrupting him. but you can’t do it, you can’t let someone be killed right in front of you. this scenario was exactly something that your nightmares were made of back then, because you were terrified that your shuji would be hurt this way.
“run away, please. run away,” you whisper delicately to the injured man. still, no intervention came from the man behind you. you wonder why, but you are certain you are going to die here tonight.
slowly, you rose to your feet, raise your two hands in surrender, and face the heartless criminal. but that heartless criminal is hanma shuji.
the two of you stood there, staring wide-eyed at each other. his lips are parted in surprise, and his eyes filled with anguish that you had to see that, and the shock of seeing you again. while yours, of familiarity but also of fear that this man is not the shuji you once knew.
“sh-shuji?”
“what the fuck?!” he screams at you. he has never done that before. hell, you have the nerve to be scared of his roaring voice when you just witnessed him almost commit a murder right before your eyes. “the fucking man got away! he was my only fuckin’ lead! fucking shit!”
he runs past you and doesn’t give you a chance to say another word. he runs, and runs, and runs, until he is out of sight. he was supposed to chase after the man, but he doesn’t. he purposefully let you free the man because he knew it would have killed you inside if you failed. he runs because he can’t face you, not now that he’s a criminal he spent his entire life keeping you away from.
there is something terribly wrong with you. yes, you are up all night because of what just happened, but you aren’t thinking of the attempted murder that unfolded in front of you.
you are thinking about shuji, and how right you are about his appearance but also how terribly wrong you are about the life he is leading.
there is something terribly wrong with you.
because you realize tonight that you do not just love him a little. you are deeply in love with him still, and that is the reason why you haven’t loved anyone else after him, and it wasn’t because you were too busy with studies or work.
after all these years, it is still hanma shuji for you.
tonight, you allow the sixteen-year-old girl within you to weep for what hanma shuji has become. he isn’t your sweet, troublemaker boy anymore. he didn’t even seem to know who you are. he is a criminal.
and you fucking love him still.
in the middle of your thoughts and tears at four in the morning, a knock comes on your condo unit’s door. with a groan because of your throbbing head, you head to the door to open it, expecting housekeeping.
but right in front of you is the man himself, hanma shuji.
he looks tired and forlorn. despite his proud stance in the way he carries himself, his eyes are dead at void of life. he is an incredibly handsome man, but somehow, that beauty isn’t enough to erase desperation on his face.
“sh-shuji,” you choked out. “it is you, right?”
a tear escapes from his eyes when you reach out to hold his face gently, like he is the most important person in the world, when he was expecting a slap on the face. he sheds a tear for the first time in ten years, the last time being the time he had to leave you behind because his gang life was getting too dangerous for you. he cries because the woman he never stopped loving, the woman who just saw him commit a crime, is holding his face like a fragile glass.
“it’s me,” he whispers.
it dawns on you that he is still your shuji. he is standing right in front of you to show you exactly that. i changed, but it’s still me. i’m still your shuji. please, embrace me for who i am. please.
with a soft gaze and a soft voice, you ask him. “what happened?”
so you lead him inside, sit him down on your couch, and let him talk. you two are seated at opposite ends of the sofa, two people leaving a distance because they are afraid of what might happen if they cross it, and they want to cross it so bad.
the entire time, your brain is screaming, i miss you. i miss you. i miss you.
shuji explains everything to you.
he tells you how a rival gang back then was killing everyone they held dear and a single connection to you will put you in peril.
he confesses that it broke his heart just as much as it broke yours, that when you were crying yourself to sleep, he wasn’t necessarily celebrating somewhere else.
he admits that it took everything in him not to run back to you and beg you to take him back, to love him again.
he comes clean to the fact that he has been keeping track of you after all this time just to make sure you live somewhere safe, that no danger will come upon you, that you will grow up and live happily.
but he tells you how hard his life has been and why he is what he is right now, and he doesn’t have it in him to be sorry for all the things he did to survive.
“i’m sorry you had to see that, i–i have no excuse. i was too freaked out to see you there. never should’ve shouted at you. i am sorry.” he mutters after a long time of speaking. you listen to all that he has to say, and you reach out a hand to rest on top of his.
you are hoping to get your message across through that touch. i believe you. i know. i understand.
when shuji comes at a dead end in thinking of what to say next, you scoot closer to him and took his much larger frame in your arms. with that single move, you unknowingly give hanma shuji the very thing he has craved for. your embrace.
“i don’t blame you, shuji,” you manage to say in between the soft hiccups that came with your tears. “it must have been so hard for you... and i wasn’t there.”
“it was because i left. i also wasn’t there for you when i promised i’d always be, y/n.”
you shake your head and stare straight into his eyes. “no... you did it to protect me.”
“i still could’ve done a lot of things differently! could’ve saved you a lot of heartbreaks!” he can’t help but share his regrets and his mistakes that he wishes he could make right. you stop him again by caging his face with your hands.
“shuji. we were kids. we didn’t know any better. what do we know at sixteen?”
he nods and frees himself from whatever keeps him from breaking down. he knows he can cry with you. he knows you won’t harm him. he knows he can be vulnerable when he is with you.
“thank you, shuji, for everything.” you pull him in to kiss him tenderly. there is a faint taste of the mixture of your tears on your lips, but neither of you seem to mind. “i love you.”
hanma shuji traces your jaw with the back of his hand while memorizing every part of this version of you. he swears he will never leave you again, he will never torture himself that much again. he has the world now. nothing can hurt you now.
“i knew at sixteen that i will always, always... be in love with you, y/n.”
ੈ✩‧₊˚ it’s the first of october and you just can’t wait to greet your boyfriend a happy birthday, which isn’t supposed to be for another three weeks.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ hanma shuji fluff!
your dainty little fingers poke hanma shuji’s waist as soon as the clock hit midnight and your digital calendar by the bedside displays today’s date.
october first. it calls for a celebration in your book of things to do for hanma shuji to show your love.
“wakey wakey, baby,” you say in a sing-song voice but that doesn’t seem to be enough to wake up your heavy sleeper of a boyfriend. “wake up, shuji.”
your boyfriend lets out a low groan of complaint, which you shrug of since it’s better than nothing. you continue poking him until it turns into soft and playful tickles that travel from his side to his arms.
“wake up! you have to wake up!”
“damn it, doll. a man needs to get some sleep,” he growls, but you only smile because you know he has no choice but pay attention now.
“pretty please?”
“no.”
“shuji,” you fake a sob. “wake up!”
his eyes flutters open to be welcomed by your enthusiastic ones, and hanma thinks you better be thankful that you are too pretty for him to be mad at you for waking him up.
damn, he swears he’s grumpy but there is already a growing smile on his face because he can’t help but mirror your expressions when you’re this close to him he can feel your breath on his skin.
“so? hm? what’s the big reason for you to tickle me away from my beauty sleep? let’s hear it, it better be worth it, baby doll.”
you beam at him with a huge smile that doesn’t always necessarily mean trouble, but most of the time, it is the smile of someone who is up to no good, or someone who is just too in love with hanma shuji.
“happy birthday, my shuji…” you whisper softly, which you follow with peppering kisses all over his face but missing his lips on purpose.
“it’s not my birthday.”
you chuckle when hanma pretends he doesn’t understand why you’re doing this, but by the way his hands crawled to pull you in closer by your waist is telling you something else.
“well, it’s your birth month and i wanted to celebrate by greeting you. wanted to show you how grateful i am that you’re here.”
he frowns, but he doesn’t mean to. he just can’t wrap his head around how you love him. you met him when he was on the run as a fugitive, you fell in love with him even after he confessed every crime he has ever done, and you stayed with him when he was wishing he wasn’t alive.
now, he can’t bring himself to hate this life.
not when he can hold you this close. not when he has too much to love and protect. fuck his gang, fuck his abusive parents, fuck everything—he has you.
“this was what you’re waitin’ for, huh? that’s why you won’t go to sleep even when i’ve heard you yawn for a thousand times already,” he lazily says.
you nod eagerly, “of course! i won’t miss it for the world! we have to celebrate every day, shuji!”
“damn, woman. if you want to greet me that much, at least give my lonely lips a kiss.”
hanma shuji doesn’t wait to claim his gift. he leans to kiss you on your lips. he starts by placing three shallow kisses until he decides it’s not enough, so he pulls you in deeper by holding your face like it’s the most delicate thing in the world, and he kisses you deeply. hoping it’s enough to let you know that he is much grateful for you, even if you wake him up in the wee hours of the night.
“i love you, brat,” he adds after the sincerest kiss you have ever shared for good measure.
