Setting: it takes place in season 3, but I don’t think there are any major spoilers or anything that would ruin it for you if you haven’t watched it yet
Warnings: Fluff with a hint of angst, mentions of Niragi’s rough past, mild language,and yes, I had to make it a hot one ‘cause I literally can’t write anything purely fluffy… SORRYYYYY
Masterlist aib / main masterlist
Word Count: 700words
A/n:guys, I watched season 3 and like… I’m not sure if I actually liked it 😭 it felt kinda mid, especially the ending, but I think I’ll rewatch all three seasons in a row to see if my opinion changes (even tho I don’t think it will).
Also I just wrote something short ‘cause I wanted to drop smth about AIB, but I’ll still think twice before writing about the new characters ‘cause idk if I really liked them that much… that’s it lol
Niragi as your boyfriend who…
—sfw
…stumbles into romance like it’s a battlefield he’s learning to navigate. He shows up at your door with a lopsided bouquet, muttering, “I didn’t know which ones you’d like, so… here.” His pierced brow furrows, but when you smile, his tough-guy act melts into a smirk that screams I’m trying.
…loves with an intensity that could burn stars. His kisses are fierce, like he’s pouring every unsaid word into them, but he pulls back, breath shaky, whispering, “Tell me if it’s too much.” It’s never too much, and he knows it from the way you tug him closer.
…talks about his kid with a pride that makes your heart ache. He calls his son “little runt” with a grin, showing you a messy dinosaur drawing he swears is “tattoo-worthy.” When he catches you staring, all soft-eyed, he ducks his head, mumbling, “Stop making me feel sappy.”
…guards you like the world’s still a game of survival. If someone so much as glares your way, he steps in front, all sharp edges and narrowed eyes. But instead of fists, he slings an arm around you, growling, “They’re not worth your time, babe.”
…lets you see his scars, inside and out. Some nights, he wakes up gasping, ghosts of Borderland haunting him. He doesn’t talk about it, but he lets you trace the scars on his face, your touch grounding him as he murmurs, “You make the dark feel less heavy.”
…teases you just to hear you laugh. He steals your fries, calls you “princess” with a mocking grin, and cackles when you swat at him. Then he pulls you into his lap, smirking, “Alright, you win—just don’t get used to it.”
…dreams of a future he’s scared to believe in. Over late-night pizza, he lets slip, “What if we had a place? For the kid, for us… maybe more little brats running around?” He plays it off, but the way he watches you says he’s already picturing it.
…is yours, fiercely and forever. Niragi’s past is a storm, but with you, he’s found calm. He looks at you like you’re his reason to keep fighting, his reason to be better, and when he says “mine,” it’s not possession—it’s a promise.
—nsfw
…fucks you senseless against the wall, no mercy. He slams you against the surface, pierced lips devouring yours in a bruising kiss as he growls, “You’re mine tonight.” His hard cock presses against your thigh through his jeans, and he rips your shirt open, hands rough as he grabs your ass, lifting you to grind his throbbing length against your dripping core.
…eats you out like he’s starving. He shoves your thighs apart, tongue piercing flicking against your clit with maddening precision. “Fuck, you taste so good,” he groans, sucking hard before plunging his tongue deep inside your wet pussy, fingers pumping in sync until you’re screaming his name, soaking his face as you cum.
…pounds you into the mattress like it’s his last mission. He’s relentless, cock slamming into you so deep it feels like he’s splitting you open. “Take it all, baby,” he snarls, pinning your wrists above your head, hips snapping with brutal force. Each thrust hits your G-spot, making you squirt around him as he smirks, “That’s my girl.”
…loves when you take control, but only to break you. You tie his wrists with his own belt, riding his thick cock slow, teasing until he’s growling, “Fucking move.” You smirk, rolling your hips, but he snaps free, flips you onto your stomach, and spanks your ass hard before fucking you into the sheets, your moans muffled as you cum again.
…marks every inch of you. His teeth sink into your neck, leaving dark hickeys as he thrusts deep, cock pulsing. “Everyone’s gonna see these,” he rasps, fingers bruising your hips while his cum spills hot inside you, dripping down your thighs as he keeps going, overstimulating you until you’re a shaking, whimpering mess.
…talks filthy in the heat of it. “You love my cock stretching you, don’t you?” he pants, fingers circling your clit as he fucks you through another orgasm. “Gonna fill you up again, make you beg for it.” His voice is raw, and the promise of more has you clenching around him, pulling another guttural moan from his lips.
…holds you close after wrecking you. When you’re both spent, bodies slick with sweat and cum, he pulls you against his chest, kissing your temple softly. “You’re my fucking world,” he whispers, voice rough but tender, his fingers tracing your skin like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.
a/n: I’m currently halfway through AIB season 3 and have so many fics I want to write! Some Arisu, Niragi and definitely for Ryuji! In the meantime, hope you enjoy this until I finish watching season 3! - E🌻
AIB Masterlist
TAG LIST - if you would like to join the tag list for my AIB fics, leave a comment on this post or drop me a DM x
A = Aftercare (what are they like after sex)
Has little to no knowledge about aftercare. If it's a one night stand then he couldn't give a shit. With a long term partner I can see him caving and letting their partner teach him how to give aftercare but he'd make a huge fuss about having to do it. Like he'd be rolling his eyes, scoffing and scowling as he's forced into post-sex snuggles or having to take a relaxing bath with his partner.
B = Bodypart (favourite body part of theirs and their partners)
His tongue makes a regular appearance, partly because he likes the look of the piercing, mainly because he enjoys freaking people out whenever he twirls it around like a maniac. He's also pretty talented at using it to go down on you (the rare times he does) and loves knowing he can make you squirm and cry out with pleasure just from using it.
Niragi's favourite body part in a partner would be their ass and eyes. Ass for obvious reasons (he's perverted like that) and eyes not because he'd find them particularly captivating, but because he enjoys seeing them tear up during sex. They're like little windows into your mind, giving away everything you're thinking and feeling.
C = Cum (anything to do with it basically)
As much as he'd like to, he'd never finish inside without a condom. It would be a way for him to claim you so intimately, but he doesn't want to run the risk of getting you pregnant in the borderlands. So instead he'd settle with finishing on your stomach, back, ass basically anywhere he can rub it into your skin. He's obsessed with marking and claiming you as his and is another reason why he grumbles during aftercare when you insist he clean you up.
D = Dirty Secret (self-explanatory)
Niragi 1000% has a blood kink, you can't convince me otherwise. He'd make little cuts all over your body before using his tongue to lick up the blood all while telling you what a dirty little freak you were for allowing him to do it to you.
He would also have a weapon kink. Basically anything that allowed him to have Total control over you in bed. If that means he gets to shove the barrel of his loaded gun down your throat, his fingers hovering over the trigger while he fucks you, then yeah he'd totally be game for it. The more trust you show him, the more turned on he'd get. The idea that you trust him enough to mark you up or place loaded weapons in your face, knowing he'd never do anything to distress you, that's the most important thing to him.
E = Experience (how much experience do they have?)
We all know Niragi had zero experience during his high school days since he was bullied pretty brutally. When he graduated and changed his entire image he took on a fuck boy persona that over time became his personality. Safe to say he has plenty of experience and always initiates sex whenever the need for him strikes. Very rarely will he wait for you to make a move and sex is never vanilla. He's had plenty of experience with BDSM and explored many kinks in his pursuit of pleasure, something he is more than happy to introduce them to you both daily and nightly.
F = Favourite Position (self-explanatory)
I can imagine Niragi enjoying taking you from behind, grabbing fistfuls of your hair and yanking until your spine arches. From there you can expect some pretty rough but spectacular sex. Apart from that, whatever position that allows Niragi to take control and dominate you is preferred. Tying you up is fun for him and it always shocks you how gentle he is in the first few minutes, checking in with you and your comfort.
G = Goofy (serious or silly in the moment?)
Both. It completely depends on his mood at the time. He enjoys being able to make you giggle when trying something new in the bedroom and you’re feeling uneasy, but when you’re both comfortable he switches to serious pretty quickly. He’s unpredictable.
H = Hair (what is their opinion on grooming?)
Niragi doesn't care what he looks like down there and honestly wouldn't care about your opinion on it either. The only grooming he takes seriously is the hair on his head. He takes pride in keeping it well managed in a high bun and little strands framing his face.
I = Intimacy (how romantic are they during the moment?)
I'd say Niragi is more possessive than romantic with his partners. Prefers rough, kinky sex than soft and sensual. However, I can definitely see him being romantic after one of the games almost kills either you or him, like it puts things into perspective for him and he'll realise how much he cares for you. Those occasions are rare because he doesn't let you go into games where he can't protect you.
J = Jack Off (masterbation)
Always. He's a horny bastard and on the rare instance you can't have sex he'll be masterbating to the thought of fucking you hard against a wall as punishment for not being at his beck and call. He has an extremely high sex drive exacerbated by the extreme violence of borderlands which he seems to thrive off.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Niragi would have lots of kinks that he's indulged in. Blood kink and weapon play has already been discussed. Definitely dom/sub and he enjoys humiliating/degrading his partner and then cleaning up the mess left behind. Definitely a sadist in that sense. I can see him enjoying giving out punishment to his partner if they've disobeyed rules set out or done something without his approval (feeding into the dom/sub kink). Basically, Niragi loves control and being the dominant one in the relationship.
L = Location (their favorite place to do it)
Wherever he can get his hands on you.
At the pool? You can expect sneaky fingers trailing up your thigh and into your bikini bottoms.
In an executive meeting? He'll be whispering dirty words into your ear, not caring who hears while you squirm in your seat.
In an empty hallway? Niragi will have you pinned up against a wall, legs wrapped around him as he fucks into you. He even encourages you to be loud, wanting someone to find you, for them to know who you belong to.
M = Motivation (what turns them on)
You being sassy or a brat turns them on, the idea that he gets to put you in your place gets him going the most. The dom/sub dynamic you have going on turns him on the most.
N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)
Niragi has nothing that he wouldn’t try. He’s a perverted beast like that.
O = Oral (preference for receiving/giving)
Definitely prefers receiving more than giving. He's selfish like that and loves looking down at you as he grips your hair tight and watches you bob up and down. The rare occasion that he gives, lets just say he's incredibly experienced and enjoys making you scream for him.
P = Pace (fast and rough? slow and sensual?)
Prefers fast and rough. Loves making you moan and even leaving bruises from his fingers digging into your hips. Seeing you struggle to walk the next day is an added bonus for him, it's like a sign to others that you'd been fucked long and hard. He takes great pleasure in bragging to Last Boss and Aguni (who couldn't care less) that he was the one to do it to you. The fact that he's convinced Chishiya has a crush on you is an added bonus as he regularly rubs it in his face that he gets to fuck you every night.
Q = Quickie (their thoughts and how often)
Fast and rough is his go to for sex so quickies are a yes. But they end up turning into a sex marathon because of his high sex drive and need to go for multiple rounds. So yes in principle but in practice it never works out. Niragi has even tried to convince you to have a quickie during a game before but you've firmly put your foot down on that idea, knowing it would not be as quick as he promised.
R = Risk (do they like to experiment? do they take risks?)
Yes, there is very little Niragi won't try and he actively encourages you to share anything you'd want to try in the bedroom. He has an exhibitionist kink so doesn't worry about people catching you doing something risky. He actively looks for places where that could happen.
S = Stamina (how long can they last?)
As long as he wants and needs. If you're over stimulated he'll tell you to just take it like a good little slut and carry on, rough and hard until he's satisfied. He's not a complete monster though because he'd stop if you safe worded.
T = Toys (do they own any toys? do they enjoy using toys in the bedroom?)
Niragi could open a sex shop with how many toys he's collected, not surprising since he's a kinky fucker. He'd use them regularly, even introducing you to a few. Having fun during sex is on the same level as his own pleasure in terms of importance. His favourite would be rope to tie you down and a blindfold.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Niragi is the king of teasing. During sex he likes to tease and humiliate you, that degradation kink comes into full play.
V = Volume (how loud are they, what sounds do they make?)
Very vocal, like lots of swearing, moaning and comments about how you look (he can give praise with the degradation). His moans would be low and raspy, interspersed with swearing. Whenever you join in he makes it into a game of how loud he can get you to groan out his name, whether it be in frustration or pleasure. Basically he wants everyone to know what the two of you are up to. The man has zero shame.
W = Wildcard (random headcanon)
For all of Niragi's dominant, alpha male posturing he deep down craves a chance to be vulnerable. To allow someone to peel back the layers of defense he's put up since high school and just be “weak” for once. He's never voiced this with his partner for fear or rejection or being viewed as less than. Instead, whenever cracks in his facade do appear, he basks in any attention and reassurance you give him. Once this even manifested in the bedroom where Niragi became very submissive. This never happened again but is something you loved and would enjoy trying out again.
Niragi's exhibitionist kink also allows him to fantasize often of him fucking you and letting Chishiya watch but never join in. His own way to torture the man who he's convinced has a crush on you. Just another display of primal dominance that he'd love to take part in.
X = X-Ray (what they have going on under their clothes)
Strong, lean muscles that he takes pride in. A flat stomach that comes from years of self-criticism brought on by past bullying. He's big down there for sure, something he brags about constantly.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Very. Enough said.
Z = Zzz (how quickly do they fall asleep afterward?)
Niragi has endless amounts of energy even after multiple rounds, so really it's you who falls asleep pretty quickly after sex. You just manage to stay awake to force him to give you aftercare and then you're out like a light. If it were up to Niragi you would both just leave the room and join the party going on at the pool area of the Beach. Instead he's forced to cuddle up with you and slowly drift off to sleep.
Dividers by @dividers-are-us
I do not own any of the pictures found in this post.
syn; did aguni never teach you anything? locked away rapunzel who got caught in the teeth of a wolf.
cw; violence, reader is Aguni’s little sister, Niragi is himself (evil), sort of bimbo reader/just spoiled, dub con, intox, graphic content, mention of rape, hardly any depth just wanted to write smut with Niragi lol, lots of insulting. (send requests)
Niragi liked beautiful girls like you. It was no mystery; seeing you for the first time with puckered lips, a pampered countenance, and a golden spoon served right to you, his body heated up with an uncontainable energy.
Aguni treated you like a glass doll. So incredibly fragile; a single tap could destroy you. Niragi knew no one was born so delicate. Nobody was born strong either. He had to force himself into his true essence, one of wrath, one of nature. Slowly but surely, Aguni raised you to be a flower, one that Niragi could pick apart: petal by petal. Rape, murder, arson, theft, assault. Weren't those the properties of humanity?
Tensions were rising among Hatter, his lackeys, the General (your brother), and the militants. Niragi, in all honesty, resented Aguni with unbridled restlessness. He never shows it, but remembers to upkeep his respectful yet hardly dignified appearance. When he was placed to look after you, he imagined the apple didn't fall far from the tree. You'd be an overbearing, self-righteous, hypocritical woman. One that was audible, bossy. The adjectives flooded his head.
When he walked into your room at the beach, his rifle swung over his shoulder, he gazed upon you on the bed. Your bedroom was disorganized but not dirty, scattered with jewelry, red cups, and lip gloss, an unmade bed, everything. His mind steered away from those adjectives. You were clueless. Naive. Untouched. Tempting. Breakable. How did you even survive a single game if big brother wasn't there?
Niragi would eventually learn two things. One, only thing you were good with was a handgun. Two, he understood why Aguni wanted to keep you locked away like a princess up in a tower. Two came before one.
Sunshine had hit your face through the curtain that day, even the great star had to catch sight of this moment. Your heavy-lidded eyes gazing up at Niragi, licking your dry lips. “Uh..’xcuse me?” You asked so incredibly softly. A murmur, almost going unheard. He’d have to quiet down to acknowledge you.
“Sit up. I don't have time for this.” He heard the scoff under your breath, saw the rolling of your eyes. “You came barging in here first,” You muttered. Since, Niragi had to deal with you as both a burden and his responsibility. Aguni would shoot him dead if you were harmed.
-
Niragi had taken you to his room after a game. His room was tidier than your own, aside from a couple of blood stains and an unmade bed. It smelled like sex and old cologne. He had left you there to shower and freshen up. He threw his head back in annoyance every time you complained about getting your princess's hands dirty. Your brother was a dirty piece of shit, this was the opposite. Niragi didn't anticipate danger in the comfort of his own room, so he left to do things.
You were wrapped in steaming water, hair tied up with a clip. The shower’s door was all foggy; you didn't hear anything under the water pressure nor did you see anything through the glass. Not till you turned off the water and opened the door did you notice men were in the bedroom.
Your heart beat fast. It sped up by a hundred miles per hour. They were waiting for you, were they not? Niragi couldn't bring people over here at a time like this. Surely, they had heard the water no longer making a sound?
Your breath fastened and recklessly ran into the bedroom with only a towel wrapped around you. They were caught off guard, grunting and suddenly standing on offense. It wasn't a mystery that you were attractive. You could practically smell their shared intentions.
Your panting was loud, yelling to get attention. They were saying something, something you couldn't understand due to the heartbeat in your brain. Rummaging through Niragi’s cabinet, you cursed him for not organizing this. The one thing he didn't pay attention to.
You heard a loud thud before you process you had been hit across your head with an assault rifle. It came to you that they didn't want to kill you.
Just on time, collapsing, the handgun in his drawer morphed against your hand and came with you. Adjusting it in your hand shakily, you shot consecutively towards the men. Hitting the four legs combined of the two men. Blood spattered on the walls, carpet, and towel. Thank Niragi for never keeping his guns on safety.
It was all a blur, the only skill Aguni had ever taught you was how to operate a gun. What about fighting or mind tricks matters if a bullet pierces your heart? Your mind was hazy from the blow against it, gradually drifting off. Then, the moment your hand retreated from your head, staring at a stain of red, everything disappeared.
It wasn't any longer than ten minutes when Niragi walked into his room, frowning at the shot men and the passed-out woman. “Figures,” He predicted that those lackeys would make a move soon enough, but he didn't expect it’d be now nor that it would be this close to home.
His boot hit across one of their heads, taking the walkie-talkie out and notifying Aguni. “Fuckin’ idiots,” Niragi mumbled. “Screwed by a girl.”
-
You awoke on his bed. It was still not made, but now you had a damp towel stopping the bleeding on your head. “Relax, you’re not dead. You just look like shit.” Teasing came easily when your eyes fluttered open.
Lazily, your eyes darted around. Then, pinpointing Niragi above you. He thought you’d laugh, roll your eyes, maybe just go back to sleep. Niragi couldn’t help the minimal gasp that left his lips when your eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “I’m so, sorry,” You babbled.
He sighed, parting his lips to speak but was interrupted by your blubbering. “Aguni’s gonna hate me,” Your arms were mindlessly wiping the tears falling from your eyes. “He should—”
Quick clicking sounds left from Niragi’s mouth, the sound of his nail tapping on the rifle silencing you. “You can't be serious thinking Aguni would ever blame this one on you,” Your mouth was agape, goggling at him slightly entranced. It’s not like Aguni was above reprimanding you. Whenever you gave Niragi a hard time, put yourself in danger, or broke his rules, you’d get a talking to.
But it’d go something like “Play nice with him, he’s helping you so don’t be mean.” or “I told you not to go out after 12, why don't you ever listen?” This was so much more than staying out past curfew. This was more than relentlessly teasing Niragi. You had been put a target on your back and now getting in the way.
Niragi’s tongue came out to wet his lips in that suggestive manner he always does. “It’s my fault here, sweetheart.”
“At least in Aguni’s eyes.”
You were left in the bed as Niragi was called out. Presumably for a meeting, if it didn’t turn violent.
-
It wasn’t long before Niragi came back and you were completely dazed. The ceiling began to look like figures with lion’s heads and voices calling you to look up at Niragi.
The throbbing and ache in the wound were so obnoxious. The way in which you couldn't even rest had you driven insane.
Sitting up slowly, hand on your head, Niragi got even closer to the bed. He towered over you, one brow raised with his rifle over his shoulder. Soon, he ended up placing it down. “Seems like the men who hurt you did it on their own accord, allegedly.” He ran a hand through his hair, that's when you noticed the blood stain on his clothes.
“You killed them? They didn't kill me why—” He cut you off with a near manic laugh, “Aguni’s orders.”
He noticed how shocked you were. Though, he didn't get the disbelief. “Are you an idiot?” He whispered. “They didn't kill you because they wanted to fuck your unconscious body, stupid.” His words were sharp, blunt. There was no beating around the bush. But even then, you could tell he was frustrated. Probably yelled at.
You glanced away, “M’sorry.” Your voice was low, shameful.
“Stop fuckin’ apologizing. If you wanted to make it up to me, you’d be doing something else instead of bitching.” He grunted, leaning over to observe the wound. It wasn't deep, but it was a lot. “Want a pain killer?” He murmured, rummaging through his even messier drawer.
Your head bobbed up and down slowly. He took one, a pretty blue pill and stuck his tongue out to show you what to do.
Quickly, you follow and pull your tongue out. He placed it on the surface, letting it begin to dissolve among your taste buds. “There we go, it’s gonna make you a bit drowsy, yeah?”
It didn't take long for the effects to kick in, mind spiraling with nothingness. “S’ cold,” You whispered, body falling back into the mattress. A gentle, sleepy hum pulls out of your lips, eyeing him for some warmth.
Niragi deliberately left you minimally dressed. The pain will cause your body to involuntarily shake. “You depend on me more than you realize," Niragi said confidently. But his lack of action to warm you up was baffling.
You felt him pin you down, his entire body hovering over you. With a single long stroke of his tongue, he traced from your abdomen up to your bra. Then, his eyes met yours. He saw how frantic your gaze was, a smirk painted onto his features. Yes, fear, that's what he craved.
The drugs didn't allow you to fight back against the pleasure your body felt. In your right mind, you might have threatened him with snitching to Aguni. But now? Ironically, all you did was quiver.
His hand closed tightly around your throat. Your red-tinted eyes shifted onto the tent in his pants. His tongue aligns with the apple of your cheek. “Wha—” you heaved. “The fuck are you doing?” Your voice was raspy due to a multitude of factors.
“You’re telling me you don't know?” He whispered right onto your earlobe. “What a load of shit,” Niragi spat, his free hand cupping your pussy, panties all damp. He groaned, kissing the corners of your lips.
Your breathing was uneven, chest rising and falling, in conflict with all the sensations. His frustration was obvious. “So fucking tired of your abhorred brother thinking he’s superior to me, to us.” His hold on your throat got tighter and tighter.
Niragi’s knee slipped between your thighs, causing your hips to buck against him. You were too drugged out to care about his ongoing monologue. “Pretending like his baby sister is a saint incarnate, he doesn't know how big a fucking slut she is.” Your whine caught his attention, brows raising, hands coming to steady your hips and prevent you from grinding downward. “Huh, don't you agree?”
Your hands were weak, still attempting to force his hands off of you. They closed around his wrists with barely any force, breathing with ur mouth agape. He lifted one of his hands, jerking yours away. In the matter of a moment, it came down to strike your cheek. “Answer me, hotshot,” He shouted, looking at your flinches.
You looked away, shutting your eyes tightly. His hand grabbed your chin with strength, forcing your gaze onto him. “Such a fucking princess, so better than everybody, gonna tell your brother you want to be fucked by his number two?” His shouting had frightened you. It would frighten anybody. You didn't have enough resilience to argue back, all you did was nod.
He pryed your legs open, licking down them. You didn't fight back, there was no willpower to. But Niragi didn't feel like giving. Generosity wasn't in the card today. His belt came undone in his hands, shoving his pants and boxers off. “Gonna take me like a good bitch, or do I have to force it into you?”
Your shoulders were tense up besides your head and you were fighting to keep your eyes open. Still, you managed a nod. “Atta’ girl.” He laughed, tongue licking his lips. “Knew you had one brain cell left.”
His hands rested on your abdomen, slowly pushing himself inside of you. He was holding back a little bit, permitting you to adjust. “Is she gonna cry?” He taunted, sticking his lower lip outward in a faux, mocking pout. You shook your head, but the tears betrayed you.
“Shh, sh sh.” His thrusts picked up the pace, the sound of smacking and moistness echoing in the room. He realized you weren't making much noise, even as his dick stretched you out. He continued to ram into your cervix, pride hurt by the lack of a positive reaction.
“Not gonna make any sounds?” He whispered, moving to rub your clit in a circle. Your pussy was clenching around him, letting out tiny “ah, ah, ah” chimes now. “Thats what I like to hear.”
Your head was thrown back, his cock angling up against your G-spot. It was all too much, way too much. Your stomach felt a knot forming, or about to untie. “Tummy—” You called out, lips forming an O shape and brows furrowing when he picked up the ferocity.
“Think Aguni would care if I fucked a baby into ya’?” He laughed, finishing all over your velvety walls. Yours happened right after, riding the wave and arching your back. Niragi guided it, hand pressing down on your stomach.
Niragi pulled out, thumb caressing the red mark on your cheek. There was a sort of numb, tingly sensation around it. The painkiller didn't allow you to feel any sort of real pain. “Gonna tell on me?”
You hesitated. The brain fog began to disappear, and the most sane response was “yes.” He squinted his eyes, gesturing towards the rifle. “Will you?” Your body betrayed your sanity, shaking your head. He rewarded you with a pat on the head, climbing off of you.
Beneath the mask of fear, a man beats quietly, and you hear him at last.
(featuring f!reader)
Summary: During a rare quiet night at the Beach, you confront the infamous Niragi alone, seeing past his ruthless façade. A moment of warmth and hope amid the chaos of Borderland.
The Beach never sleeps. Its pulse is endless laughter, shouting, clinking glass, the restless hum of music that never quite reaches the edges of the concrete. You step out onto the balcony, boots clicking against the stone, and the smell of salt and smoke strikes you first, sharp and bracing. Sparks rise from the bonfires below, weaving through the night like tiny fleeing stars, and somewhere a card game erupts in shouting and laughter.
You already know he’s here.
Niragi. His name alone could pull the air from the room. The others orbit him, nervously deferential, and even from here, you can see the lazy, confident tilt of his head, the smirk that has broken more people than you care to count. But now, tonight, there’s a different rhythm to him. Less performance. Less menace.
He catches your gaze and, almost imperceptibly, the smirk falters.
“Didn’t think you’d show up,” he calls, voice rough as gravel and whiskey, carrying that edge that makes everyone else step back.
“Didn’t think you’d still be breathing after that last stunt,” you shoot back, keeping your tone sharp, teasing. Your boots tap another cadence on the balcony floor as you walk toward him, eyes locked on his.
The crowd of sycophants thins. They sense it, the two of you standing here changes everything. And as they melt into the shadows, the weight of his presence shifts. For the first time that night, he doesn’t need to be the alpha, the terror, the “bad guy” everyone fears.
He leans on the railing, shirt open at the collar, sleeves rolled up. The lines of his muscles are defined by firelight and shadow, but it’s the tension in his shoulders, the way he’s always poised to strike, that tells you he’s never fully at ease. Not with anyone.
“You ever feel like it’s all just… pointless?” he mutters, not meeting your eyes, staring out at the restless waves. The wind whips the smoke around, carrying the faint tang of sea and burnt wood. “All the games, the killing… maybe it’s just one long joke, and we’re the punchline.”
You study him, quietly. “Philosophical tonight, huh? Should I be worried?”
He gives a short laugh, bitter and rough, that barely brushes the edges of humor. “Don’t spread it around. People might start thinking I care.”
You step closer, keeping your gaze steady. “Too late,” you say softly. “I can see it anyway.”
He finally looks at you then, eyes narrowing in disbelief, but also something else. Something dangerous yet fragile, hidden beneath the cruel grin. For a moment, it’s almost human, almost honest.
“I don’t…” His voice trails off, unsure, unpracticed. “I don’t know how to do this. How to… let it be something else.”
“Something else?” you prompt, tilting your head, letting the firelight catch your features just right.
“You,” he says simply, and the word lands between you like a confession in a language neither of you speaks out loud.
Your hand brushes his wrist, almost instinctively, testing the waters. His arm freezes, tension rippling beneath your fingers, and then carefully, hesitantly he turns his hand to meet yours. The touch is brief, almost electric, and you feel the weight of his disbelief, the quiet admission that maybe, just maybe, he can trust someone with more than his reputation.
“You’re not scared of me,” he mutters, voice low, as if asking a question he already knows the answer to.
“Should I be?” you challenge, voice steady, matching his intensity.
The silence stretches. Waves crash against the pier below, mingling with the distant shouts and laughter of those still trapped in the game. The firelight dances across his face, catching the glint of fatigue, of weariness, of a man who learned to fight before he learned to feel.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he steps closer. The air between you compresses, heavy and taut. Heat radiates from him, warm and sharp against your skin. The scent of smoke, gunpowder, and something uniquely him, faint leather and iron, clings to you, and for a heartbeat, the world outside ceases to exist.
He raises a hand to your jaw, brushing it with surprising gentleness, and you feel the tremor in his fingers, the weight of a lifetime of cruelty and survival softened in this one act. “You… see me,” he admits, voice cracking just slightly.
“I see more than you think,” you whisper, heart hammering in rhythm with the waves. Your hand moves to cover his, letting your warmth bridge the gap he can’t cross with words.
His breath hitches. The tension that always hangs around him, the threat, the chaos, the danger, wavers, replaced by something quieter, something that almost feels like vulnerability. He leans closer, forehead brushing yours, and you feel the rough brush of stubble against your skin.
“Don’t tell anyone about this,” he murmurs, eyes closing briefly as if savoring a secret he’s never allowed himself to hold. “I’ll deny it. Always.”
You smile faintly, cheek pressed to his. “Wouldn’t dream of ruining your reputation,” you tease softly, letting the moment linger.
And then, for the first time that night, he laughs low, real, unguarded. His hand moves down to intertwine with yours, strong but careful, as though he’s learning the language of touch for the first time. Every inch of tension in his body seems to ebb, replaced by the awareness that someone sees past the rough exterior.
You both stand there, wrapped in the firelight and wind, letting the quiet speak louder than words ever could. The Beach continues its restless pulse around you, games, scheming, chaos, but in this fragile, fleeting pocket of time, Niragi is something else entirely. He is not the monster they fear, not the brute they envy. He is a man learning to breathe outside of expectation.
“You ever wonder,” he asks after a long silence, thumb brushing your knuckles, “if anyone can change? Or are we all just… stuck being who we are?”
You glance up at him, heart beating in time with his, and answer truthfully. “Maybe we’re stuck. Or maybe we’re learning.”
He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he lets his forehead rest against yours again, closer this time. You feel the heat of him, the warmth of a body that has only ever known survival and pretense, finally allowing itself to exist in the presence of trust.
The wind carries the faint tang of salt and smoke, and for a moment, the firelight catches in his eyes, making them glow with a rare softness. You press your hand to his chest, feeling the rhythm beneath his ribs, fast, uneven, alive.
“I…” He hesitates, voice rough but sincere. “I don’t know what this is. Don’t know what to call it. But… it feels like… maybe it’s something real.”
You smile, pressing closer, letting your shoulder brush his. “Then we’ll figure it out,” you whisper. “Together.”
He exhales, slow and steady, and for the first time tonight, you see him truly let go, a fragment of the mask falling away. He may still be Niragi, the terror, the warrior, the chaos incarnate but in this quiet, fleeting moment, he is also human. Vulnerable, messy, and real.
The crowd below continues its noise, the Beach continues its endless games, and yet here, on this balcony, wrapped in the glow of firelight and the salt breeze, you are both suspended outside of all of it.
He shifts, tilting his head toward yours. “Don’t make me regret this,” he murmurs, teasingly, though the warmth in his tone betrays the truth.
You laugh softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “I doubt I could, even if I tried.”
The night stretches ahead, endless and uncertain. But for now, the world outside has faded. The monster everyone fears has softened, just for you, just here, just now. And maybe, just maybe, the man behind the mask, the man who survives because he has to, might learn that there’s more to life than fear, that connection can exist even in the most dangerous places.
You stay there, shoulder to shoulder, breath mingling, hands brushing, hearts caught in the fragile rhythm of something quietly hopeful. The Beach will roar again tomorrow. The games will continue. But tonight, Niragi is not alone.
Hello, can I request a one shot of Niragi x reader, where they have been a couple since before arriving in bonderland but the reader noticed the big change in Niragi's attitude which makes her want to get away from him and then help chishiya and kuina to steal the cards
ꔫ ⸝⸝ summary: you could tell niragi changed when you arrived at the borderlands. afraid he'd hurt you, you wanted to hurt him first.
ꔫ ⸝⸝ pairing: niragi x gn!reader
ꔫ ⸝⸝ genre: very light angst
ꔫ ⸝⸝ warnings: niragi, vague mention of blood, lmk if anything else.
ꔫ ⸝⸝ word count: 388
A/N: hope this is okay! I forgot how ugly niragi was in the manga when I was looking for a banner LMAO.
It was barely noticeable at first. The way Niragi acted; how he changed when he realized what world you found ourselves in.
He was far more impulsive than he used to be. He was smarter in the other world, he actually had a little bit of sense.
Why did he have blood on his clothes? Holding that rifle everywhere he went?
He was almost unrecognizable. You weren't sure who you were looking at when you both settled to the beach.
Psychologically, you knew. He needed people to be intimated by him. He refuses to be bullied anymore.
But you know what they say: "The bullied becomes the bully."
It was sad to see him like this. Acting out of line and purely intrusive. He wasn't the same.
Sometimes you wondered if he really was the same, just not masking his true intentions until now. Until there were no consequences.
Distancing yourself was easier than you'd like to admit. You barely spent any time together anymore, but you knew you needed something else to do.
Chishiya asked you before. Asked you to help him to steal the cards, you were close with Niragi after all. He hoped you'd distract him.
You denied at first. You told him it was because you don't think you'd be much help. But now, you think it was because you couldn't betray him. Not yet.
But walking down the hallway with a walkie talkie stuffed in your back pocket, Niragi and the other militants just a few feet away.
If they'd get caught, you'd be afraid of Niragi finding out you were in on it too.
He's far too stupid, now. He wouldn't think you would do that, right?
But you had the first hand view to Chishiya ratting them out. He knew you wouldn't say a word, because if you did, everyone would know you were in on it too.
You were a bit frustrated when Chishiya turned out to be untrustworthy. But not for the reasons you convinced yourself of.
Not because he could hurt the others. Not because he just betrayed everyone to your face.
But because you wanted to see the look in Niragi's eyes when he put the pieces together about you distracting them.
To see the new way Niragi would look at you, betrayed and possibly hurt.
Angst because it’s emo hours and I <3 Sueco. Kind of edited, kind of not. Also my first attempt at smut :-)
masterlist
Word Count: 2.9K
TW: Alcohol, drugs, sex/smut, mental health issues/mental instability (reader), death, blood, general aib themes.
Alcohol, drugs, sex - you’d try anything to keep your mind off this fever dream you were living in. Your life before Borderland was far from perfect, but this was pure hell.
So, when you weren’t fighting for your life or avoiding the militants, you could be found drinking and snorting anything you could get your hands on. One particularly rowdy night saw you being dragged out of a private party you somehow got caught up in for, apparently, starting a fight.
Stupid bitch deserved it you thought to yourself, aggressively removing your shoes and stomping around your room as you prepared yourself to attempt to sleep.
A knock at the door interrupted you, injecting more anger into your substance-laced veins.
“What the fuck do y-“ you snarled, stopping yourself when you saw the figure on the other side of the door.
“You should watch your mouth there, sweets” Niragi smirked down at you.
The shock was surprisingly sobering, and the anger was replaced with a low buzz of fear. You knew what the militants were like, and you knew Niragi in particular was not to be messed with.
“Sorry,” you swallowed, trying to avoid eye contact “why are you here?”
“You left your cocaine on my nightstand,” he held up a baggy with the hand that wasn’t adorned with his well-kept weapon “just wanted to return it to ya.”
The tension you didn’t realise you were holding in your shoulders eased at the realisation he wasn’t here to… well, whatever it is happens to people who cross the militants.
But something didn’t make sense.
The Beach was teeming with drugs, it wouldn’t exactly be a big job to find more - so what exactly compelled Niragi to return yours to you?
Whatever it was, you weren’t interested in finding out.
“Oh, thanks I guess” you said, tone laced with confusion as you took the baggy and simultaneously tried to shut the door.
Your attempt was futile, as the door jolted against Niragi’s boot with a loud thud.
“You’re pretty feisty, huh?” Niragi quipped, pushing the door back open with his foot, “I didn’t think you had it in you” he finished, running his piercing over his bottom lip.
What the hell does he know?
“Yeah, well if she hadn’t been such a- “
“I’m not asking you to explain yourself,” Niragi cut you off, “just saying I’d like to see it again.”
He was looking you up and down, smirk plastered on his face. You stood there like a deer in headlights, stomach churning at the thought of what was going to happen next before your saving grace sounded off from the hallway.
Niragi rolled his eyes, replying with a quick “coming, boss” as he complied with his superior.
“See you around” he said to you over his shoulder as he was walking away, arrogance laced in his words.
You slammed the door shut without replying, shaken up and not sober enough to process what just happened.
Thank god for Aguni you thought to yourself for the first time ever, as you rolled yourself into bed, eager to forget about the entire interaction.
“God, you’re such a filthy little slut,” Niragi spat from above you, hips slamming against your ass and his hand around your throat “where’s that feisty side now, huh?”
Between the pressure on your windpipe and the way his cock was slamming your sweet spot over and over, you couldn’t muster a reply other than broken moans.
“You wanna cum so bad don’t you?” he teased, being met with rapid nods and noises of pleasure from you.
“Beg then” Niragi demanded, pulling himself out of your hungry pussy and loosening the grip around your throat just enough for you to speak.
“P-please, Niragi,” your voice raspy and your legs squirming as your desperate cunt begged to be filled “please, m-make me cum” you managed to stammer out.
“Good girl” he said, devilish grin on his face and lust-filled eyes drinking in the view.
His cock slammed back into you harder and faster before, but still in the perfect spot to keep tightening the coil in your stomach.
Tears brimmed your eyes as your head was pushed further into the mattress, Niragi’s own grunts and laboured breathing pushing you over the edge.
The knot in your stomach snapped and warmth spread through your body as your orgasm washed over you, filling all of your senses. Niragi didn’t slow down as he chased his own high, fucking your throbbing pussy into overstimulation and relishing the whimpers he was eliciting from you.
“Ni-niragi” you choked out, balling the sheets in both of your fists.
“That’s right, say my name,” he panted, “no one else can make you feel this good, can they?”
“No, p-please – I n-need you” you begged, urging him to fill you up.
His breathing was erratic, his strokes becoming less uniformed and more desperate as he pounded away at you, lewd noises filling the room. Your whole world was fuzzy as you took every thrust – the feeling was borderline euphoric.
“Fuck!” was all you heard before you felt the hot rush of Niragi’s cum pulsating into every corner of your plush walls.
His weight pinned you to the bed as he caught his breath, bodies adorned with sweat and each other’s pleasure melding into one being for just a few moments.
Niragi removed himself from your frame, looking down with a proud smirk at the sight of your marked body and the mess he’d made.
This is how most of your nights went now – being fucked senseless and left broken on the bed after Niragi had his way with you.
You don’t know why you do it, and you promise yourself you’ll never let it happen again – but yet you end up here every night, begging for him.
There was nothing loving or sweet about your interactions, they didn’t lessen the void inside of you that you desperately tried to fill.
They were harsh and violent, leaving you battered and bruised, incapable of even being able to fill yourself.
But in the moments where his skin is on yours and the friction is hot enough to start a fire; when his lips collide with yours before his warm mouth wraps itself around your neck; and his eyes look into yours with such primal desire, you could almost feel something you thought was just a foreign concept now – comfort.
And maybe that almost feeling was enough.
Your thoughts had distracted you from the fact that Niragi had already left, and with your euphoria quickly turning into a headache, you pull the blanket over your aching body and drift off to sleep.
In the beginning, you’d tried to hide the dark bruises that littered your skin, ashamed of what you did – what he did to you – in the previous hours. But, it was obvious to anyone who took a second to look at you what was going on.
“Looks like Niragi has a new toy” you’d heard one say.
“Imagine not respecting yourself to the point where you’d walk around like that” another had chimed in.
“C’mon sweets, don’t be shy,” Niragi had sneered at you, not happy with your retaliation to him groping your ass one day, “everyone knows your favourite necklace is my right hand” he’d proudly announced to the entire poolside.
Now, standing in the bathroom and checking the damage he’d left you with – all of those moments flowing through your brain – you couldn’t even turn to face yourself in the mirror.
Niragi loved every aspect of his Borderlands life – no laws to stop his deviancy, the post-game high he got to experience on a regular basis, a reputation that made him feel invincible – however, he did not love guard duty. But, it had gotten a bit more bearable lately.
Staked out at a high point by the poolside, it gave him a perfect view of the entire area. It was a good vantage point, he’s able to see the movements of everyone in the vicinity – including you, sitting in your usual spot at the bar, sipping away at a drink.
He watched as your lips gently attached themselves to the glass, admiring your figure in the swimsuit that adorned your body and the hickeys that were oh-so visible due to the lack of clothing. He was supposed to be monitoring everyone, but with the lights from the dancefloor and poolside illuminating you so gently, all he could see was you.
“Hey lover boy,” Last Boss muttered, breaking Niragi’s trance, “wanna stop staring at your girlfriend and do your job?”
Niragi’s head snapped in his friends direction at the outlandish statement.
“Wanna shut up? She’s not my girlfriend,” he scoffed, “and don’t ever call me ‘lover boy’ ever again.”
“Whatever you say” Last Boss mumbled in response.
Where the fuck did he get that idea from? He’s the closest thing Niragi has to a friend, Last Boss should know that he’s not exactly one to tie himself down – in fact, it was quite the opposite. Niragi’s good looks and reputation could get him anyone he wanted, he took full advantage of that and planned to keep doing so.
You were a bit… different, though. Your fiery nature that first caught his eye was still there, you could hold your own and even tried standing up to him on occasion. You weren’t a nuisance to drink with and you could almost drink him under the table. On the occasions his tongue wasn’t already down your throat, you’d ask about his day before your late night activities and listen to whatever rant and rave he wanted to share.
But you still weren’t his girlfriend.
Pull yourself together he scolded himself, scanning his eyes over the party goers.
The crowd was as boring as ever, no one daring to step out of line with him perched above them. He returned his gaze to the bar to admire the view a while longer, but all he got was an empty seat. You were gone.
His eyebrows furrowed and his jaw clenched at the sight, Niragi knew what time you usually stayed out until and it was far too early for you to be leaving – where did you go?
“I’m gonna check the hallways,” he said abruptly, propping his rifle on his shoulder as he stood up, “this is fucking painful.”
He didn’t even wait for Last Boss to respond as he strode away, entering the building at a brisk pace.
You didn’t care for dancing so Niragi bypassed the dancefloor and began stalking the halls, checking your most frequented hiding spots, but to no avail.
Frustrated, he stormed his way through the next corridor towards your room, almost banging the door down when he arrived outside.
“Jesus, calm down,” you huffed as you opened the door, “what are you doing here, aren’t you on duty?”
“You left the bar early tonight, how come?” he questioned.
“Just wasn’t feeling it tonight” you replied, avoiding eye contact.
“Look at me” he demanded, gripping your chin in his hand and forcing you to meet his gaze.
Niragi examined your face, his hold loosening ever so slightly as he saw your glassy eyes encased in puffy, red skin – you’d been crying.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, eyes narrowed
“It’s noth-“
“Did someone hurt you?” he cut you off.
“No, it’s not like th-“
“Who hurt you? I’ll kill them” his tone was flat, but earnest.
“Stop,” you snapped, grabbing his wrist to take his hand off your face “nothing happened, no one hurt me – I’m just having a shit day.”
Niragi’s face twitched, concern threatening to spill out from under his staunch demeanour. He wasn’t sure what to say – violence was his way of solving things, but he knew it wasn’t yours. His eyes flicked down to where you still held his wrist, the warmth of your hand dissipating as you awkwardly pulled away.
“Do you… wanna talk about it?” he broke the silence, voice tinged with uncertainty.
“It’s fine, I’ll get over it,” you tried to brush it off, “plus, you’re on duty anyway.”
“I can come by after,” he almost blurted out, “plus, you listen to me all the time – just returning the favour.”
“O-okay,” you replied, confusion evident in your tone, “I’ll see you later then.”
“Yeah, see you later” Niragi said, turning on his heels and walking away.
He stopped after he heard your door close, rubbing his temples between the fingers and thumb of his free hand.
What was he doing?
This wasn’t the plan. He never planned to be nice to anyone. He never planned on wanting to spend time with anyone. He never planned to involve himself with anyone further than the length of his dick.
You were never part of the plan, and yet here you were, re-writing it.
Niragi returned to your room that night as promised, and for the first time he didn’t leave until the morning.
As your time in Borderland increased, your mental state deteriorated with each passing day. You were past the point of trying to fill the void, content with your emptiness to the point where the games didn’t even phase you anymore – you truly didn’t care if you lived or died.
Niragi knew, you’d told him all of this during your late night chat a couple of months ago, and he couldn’t wrap his head around why you hated it so much. He tried to show you the beauty of this new world – taking you to the militant target practice area to blow off steam, going on drives to loot the already pillaged stores, he even started staying with you some nights – but he couldn’t seem to get through to you.
He knew you were in a bad place, but he didn’t think you’d reached the point where you’d try something like this.
“You tried to steal the cards for yourself and escape,” Aguni stated, “your actions deem you as a traitor of the Beach, and rule three is death to all traitors.”
You said nothing, just staring ahead at the firing squad before you with dead eyes – you had no idea why there were so many people here, you hadn’t even resisted when the militant goons bound your wrists and dragged you away.
Niragi tried to fight it, saying it was all Chishiya’s idea and that he should be the one dying instead of you. He told them you were just a pawn in the blonde rats game, that he’d take personal responsibility for you, that you could join the militants as punishment.
He was brushed off as someone with a vendetta – Chishiya had reported it to Aguni in the first place, why would he ruin his own plan?
Now all he could do was watch as you paid for your crimes, another militant already standing at arm’s length with a pistol pressed to your temple.
“Any last words?” Aguni asked.
“Fuck you, and fuck the Beach” you spat at him, staring him dead in the eyes.
Niragi winced as the gunshot rang out, followed by the thud of your body slumping to the ground. Just like that, his new plan was over before it began.
“Don’t fucking touch her,” Niragi hissed at the two militants that stepped forward to move your body, “I’ll take care of it.”
“Alright, whatever you say” replied one.
“Damn, you really are kinky, huh?” the other joked.
Niragi lurched forward, his own gun pressed under the chin of his colleague.
“Get the fuck out of here before I have two bodies to clean up, you hear me!?” he shouted, seething at the man in front of him.
“Jeez chill out, not my fault your girlfriend was a traitor” the militant snapped back, pushing Niragi’s rifle away.
Niragi scoffed before swinging his weapon around and smashing it across the man’s face, blood spatter hitting the concrete below as the man toppled over from the impact.
“Anyone else have something to fucking say?” he scowled at the group of men in front of him.
There was only muttered ‘no’s and whispers in response as everyone cleared out, leaving just him and you.
Turning himself in the direction of your body, Niragi was paralysed as he looked at your lifeless frame lying in a pool of crimson blood. He swallowed hard before slowly making his way over, crouching above you and brushing the clumped hair off of your face.
“Finally got what you wanted, huh?” he sighed, “kind of selfish of you, but at least you’re at peace now, I guess” he continued speaking into the wind.
Niragi remained stationary for a few moments, before rolling the dead weight of your body over to pick you up. He carried you bridal style to the dumpster filled with corpses, hesitating to put you to rest in there.
He stepped up onto a pile of discarded wooden pallets to lower you in, tucking your hair behind your ears and placing your hands atop of each other on your chest.
“I know you wouldn’t want to hear this, but I will get revenge for you. That’s a promise” his brief look of sorrow turning to that of scorn as he spoke his final words to you.
Kuina paced the empty lobby, her thumbnail firmly placed in between her teeth as she bit at it. Her eyes wouldn't focus, no matter how much she tried. Tears welled up in her eyelids, and she quickly wiped them away as she took a deep breath. The only thing she could do was keep glancing back to the second floor, watching and hoping that either you or Chishiya, or both if she was lucky, would come walking down any moment now.
The noise of those walking past her was drowned out by her own thoughts, the guilt and anxiety finally catching up to her. Kuina had never thought, even in this awful and lawless place, that she would turn against another woman like that; to leave another so defenseless, even if it was all part of a larger scheme. Even during her toughest games so far, she hadn't felt the urge to light up a cigarette so badly since she arrived in this world.
Kuina suddenly felt a firm shove from behind her, her hands rising up quickly to catch herself before she hit the wall. Her head whipped around, ready to turn all that pent-up anxiety and guilt into anger before her eyes landed on the man behind her. She held her breath, her eyes widening slightly as she pursed her lips inward.
Niragi took a step forward, his rifle prominent in his hands as he glared at Kuina. It was only a second before she found herself cornered against the wall, her mind going blank before racing to figure a way out of this; whatever this was. "Can I help you with something?" She tried to sound dumbfounded, hoping he would back down. Regret filled her stomach instantly as Niragi's hand slammed into the wall beside her head, making her flinch just slightly.
"Maybe you can. You were with Y/N last night, weren't you?" Her eyes couldn't look away from his as he continued to glare, his voice firm and unwavering. Kuina felt herself gulp audibly, her hands beginning to sweat. "It's funny. See, she was fine right up until she met up with you and that little snake friend of yours. But then, she happened to come across a little case of amnesia. Any idea how that happened?"
Before she had the chance to speak, Niragi's finger slid up to the trigger, holding the barrel firmly under her chin. "You were working with that fucking snake, weren't you? And don't you dare try to lie to me either." For the first time, Kuina was seeing Niragi not just mad, but nearly furious. His eyes were stone cold and accusing, "He knows," Kuina thought inside her mind. "Fuck."
The look in Kuina's eyes told Niragi everything he needed to know as he lowered the barrel, stepping back almost hurriedly. Kuina breathed a sigh of relief before tensing at the sound of your voice, "What's going on?" Her head moved so quickly that Kuina could've sworn she nearly got whiplash. "Y/N..." Niragi couldn't help but smirk as he heard you, taking another side step back as you walked closer to the two of them.
"I was just having a little chat with your friend here," Niragi said cockily, his eyes focused on Kuina's reaction to seeing you. He couldn't help but feel a bit proud, having figured everything out in the short time that had passed. His tongue glided across his teeth, as he smirked, his eyes softening almost immediately as he finally looked over to you. The red nose, the puffy eyes. He took notice almost immediately, fighting the urge to publicly walk over to comfort you.
Your gaze moved back and forth between the two of them, a horrible feeling settling in your stomach. "What were you guys talking about...?" Your voice was soft, a bit timid, even. This day was not going as well for you as you had hoped, considering how you had woken up this morning.
Kuina's head dropped, all that guilt rushing back to her as quickly as it had left. She slowly licked her lips, feeling her vision go a bit blurry as she looked up at you, noticing the state of your face; you had been crying already. Kuina's heart was pained at the sight, taking a deep breath before she tried to speak. Unfortunately for Kuina, Niragi was just a moment quicker.
"Turns out, your memory loss from last night was a team effort," Niragi said coldly, his eyes glaring at Kuina. You couldn't help but tense your shoulders, your heart speeding up. Looking at Kuina, your lips began to tremble just slightly.
"Kuina...?"
Kuina slammed her eyes shut and looked down again, crossing her arms over her chest and holding herself. "I... Y/N, please understand, I didn't--"
Kuina gasped and nearly jumped back as Niragi's rifle was quickly pointed at her, his finger resting just over the trigger. "Tell her. Or I will." Kuina could feel the tears start slipping down her cheeks, her eyes focused solely on you. Oddly enough, she wasn't even worried about the gun pointed at her, nor the madman behind it. She was only worried for you. You, and the friendship she thought she had earned.
"I-I... I'm so sorry, Y/N... When we went drinking, I... I got you drunk... On purpose..."
You felt your heart sink to the bottom pit of your stomach, your lungs beginning to burn from the lack of oxygen from holding your breath.
"You... What?" You could feel your eyes start to burn again, blinking rapidly as the pieces quickly came together.
Kuina could see the look of hurt and betrayal in your eyes, quickly trying to counter herself. "Y/N, please listen! It's not like that, I swear--"
You tried to blink back some tears, failing to do so as you quickly turned and bolted back up the stairs, ignoring Kuina calling after you desperately. It seemed like around every corner, there was another problem. Another issue rising without regard or warning.
Niragi held the gun to Kuina whose eyes followed you up the stairs, his voice firm as he spoke, "Man, you guys really are such a pair, wouldn't you say?" He scoffed, a bit irritated she wasn't even looking at him as he threatened her, Kuina's eyes keeping on you desperately as her knuckles turned white from holding the railing of the stairs on the lobby floor, fighting the urge to run after you as her lip started to quiver.
Lowering his gun, Niragi immediately began his ascent up the stairs. He followed after you hurriedly, his feet carrying him towards the muffled sounds of you holding back sobs down the hallways. It was as if it was the only sound he could hear; the music from outside drowning out even as he got closer to it.
Reaching the basement, Niragi looked around, sighing as he could no longer hear nor see you. He scratched the back of his head in frustration, his rifle still firmly in his other hand. "Oh, fuck it..." He muttered to himself before picking a direction, following the edge of the hallway as he searched. It wasn't long before he found you, your body turned towards the corner of the wall, your head huddled down with your hand covering your mouth as you gently sobbed into it.
Niragi silently walked towards you, gently placing his hand on your shoulder to avoid startling you. You turned around, your cheeks stained with tears and your eyelids puffy and red. With your lips still slightly quivering, you buried your face into Niragi's shirt, ignoring how he tensed up the moment you touched him so suddenly. Within seconds, your hands were wrapped around his back, tucked under his arms as your hands grabbed onto the back of his shirt, holding yourself into him.
He held his breath for what seemed like forever in his mind, his shoulders slowly relaxing as he sighed softly to himself. Niragi awkwardly slung his gun over his shoulder by the strap, placing his arms over and around you, holding you to him as he rested his chin on the top of your head. He could hear you sobbing quietly, ignoring the wetness slowly being absorbed by his shirt.
Niragi ran his hand slowly up and down your back, staying silent as he couldn't quite figure out what to say or do. This affection was still new to him, so new that he wasn't even sure if he was doing the correct thing or not. It was often that Niragi felt unsure of himself like this, it wasn't a pleasant feeling either. He felt conflicted by so much. On one hand, he was beginning to realize that he truly cared for you in a way he couldn't quite grasp. The urge to protect you, to defend you from harm and anything that could hurt you made his ability to think clearly almost entirely mute.
On the other hand, when he wasn't with you, he was free to do as he wished. He could do whatever it was that he whimmed, no matter what. He could kill, he could torment, he could laugh at the most undesirable state of the world and nobody would dare to question his authority or judgment on things. It was as if he was two separate beings, trapped and sharing one body.
It wasn't until you slowly pulled away from him that he snapped out of his thoughts, his eyes wandering over you as his hands slid across your back and to your shoulders, his thumbs gently rubbing the softness of your skin. Niragi lifted your chin up to look at him softly, carefully wiping away a stray tear that was mid-fall. His voice was oddly soft as he spoke to you, his eyes never leaving yours for a moment.
"We should get you back to your room, yeah?"
He noticed you hold your breath for a moment before shaking your head to the side, looking down briefly. "I... I would rather not go back there, for now..."
Niragi thought for a moment before grabbing your hand, pulling you gently along with him as he started to move.
"W-where are we going?" You asked genuinely, the moment of you leaving Chishiya behind in your room flashing through your mind briefly.
"To my room."
Niragi spoke nonchalantly, and you were glad he was leading the way facing forward as you felt the slightest blush rise on your cheeks. "O-oh... Okay," you mustered up to say, recalling this morning when you, quite literally, woke up atop Niragi. The walk up the floors wasn't as long as it seemed, as a matter of fact, the time seemed to fly by as your mind honed in on the feeling of Niragi's hand around yours.
The weight of the world seemed to push heavily on your shoulders the moment you walked into Niragi's room, nearing stumbling over yourself in exhaustion the moment you closed the door behind you. Niragi quickly grabbed you by the shoulders, reaching an arm around your back to better support you as he looked at you with mild concern.
Niragi silently helped you into the bed, sitting on the edge as he watched you intently. You struggled to keep your eyes open, the puffiness still present as Niragi pulled the covers over you, the light shifting of his rifle still slung over his shoulder being the only noise that could be heard in the silence. You felt your mind begin to shut down, your eyes fluttering softly as you struggled to keep them open, your lips gently parting as you watched Niragi.
Maybe you wanted to say something to him. Or maybe, you just wanted his presence near you in this moment. But nothing came out, as you quickly drifted asleep, the events of the day having taken their full toll on you, leaving no emotion spared.
Niragi watched you for a moment, making sure you were fully asleep. He sighed lightly to himself, closing his eyes as he stood up, careful not to wake you. The wheels in his mind turned for a moment before clicking in place; his next move apparent. He knew what he had promised you, the way you begged for him to spare that snake hidden in the grass. But was it really breaking a promise if you never found out the truth? He could convince you if he tried hard enough, he was certain of that. After all, there weren't many that would correct him if he lied.
He silently walked out of the room, turning off the lights and taking one last look at you sleeping peacefully before quietly closing the door behind himself. Once he heard it click in place, he slung his rifle back into his hands, a cocky smirk rising on his lips as he began walking down the hallway.
His plan was almost perfect. All he needed was a good enough reason, and he was set. Niragi would finally be able to protect you from danger, even if it meant you lost some friends in a more permanent way than most. It was the one rule in the Beach that he completely agreed with, and for good reason. It gave him the privilege of ending any and all that would dare go against him. After all, never forget the third rule of the Beach; "Death to all traitors."
Kuina sobbed into her hands, quickly wiping away any tears that fell hurriedly to no avail. She didn't even hear the knock on her door until she felt a pair of eyes on her back, not bothering to turn to look at him.
"We fucked up, Chishiya... We fucked up so badly..."
Chishiya stood there, glad Kuina hadn't turned around. It wasn't often he felt defeated in any way, and the feeling wasn't exactly an easy one to get rid of. He kept his hands tucked away in his pockets as he thought for a moment, "We can fix this."
Chishiya jumped at the sudden movement of Kuina standing up, turning around quickly to face him. Her eyes glared at him, her face scrunched up as she balled her hands into fists. "Fix this? How the hell are we going to fix this, Chishiya?! She knows! She knows everything, and so does Niragi!"
He nodded his head slowly once, "Of course he knows too..." He said with an unbothered look on his face, more talking to himself than Kuina. "But we can win her back. It might take time, but we have plenty of that." Kuina looked down, trying to take deep breaths as she attempted to calm herself.
"Okay, okay... So what's the plan here?"
Chishiya opened his mouth to speak, immediately holding his words as the speaker rang throughout the hotel, the television in the room turning on with a white screen.
Kuina's eyes widened as she looked between Chishiya and the television, the eerily familiar voice ringing throughout the hotel.
"We'd like to thank our guests for staying at Seaside Paradise Tokyo. As a token of our appreciation, we would now like to commence a game with all residents."
ship: karube daikichi x niragi suguru
word count: ~12 200 words.
ao3: link.
tags: depictions of bullying, n/on-c/onsensual piercing, violence, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it internalised h/omophobia, kind-of ooc niragi because he’s in his pre-asshole ‘bullied teenager’ era.
—
When Karube gets expelled and transferred to a new school, he’s hoping to lay low and just make it until graduation. As fate would have it, that’s not what happens since he can’t stop himself from stepping in when he witnesses one of his new classmate’s getting baseballs lobbed at him by a group of bullies.
—
The fic idea that started it all. A ‘what if somebody was there to help Niragi when he was getting bullied in high school’ au/fix-it (fix-him) fic.
** reblogs, likes/kudos, and comments appreciated!!
—
other karube x niragi fics here!!
Another new school.
Karube doesn’t know how he’s the one that ended up punished. Sure, he’d been fighting, but those other guys had deserved it! Just because he’d come out on top and those jerks cried their crocodile tears, he was the one being sent away.
Lumped into the far back of his new classroom, he’s tapping his pencil on his notepad. All his ‘new peers’ have been avoiding even looking at him. He supposes he doesn’t blame them really. His blonde hair is clipped short. There’s a dark mottling of bruises over his knuckles and one on the line of his jaw. If he comes off looking ‘rough around the edges’, he doesn’t really care.
Effectively ignored for the foreseeable future, he sighs and slumps down in his seat.
It doesn’t matter. It’s one year. Then he’s out. One fucking year.
He’s walking home. It’s another part of his punishment, this time from his parents; grounded, he had to come right home after school for the next month. His backpack hangs loosely from one shoulder. He kicks a rock down the street as he walks. The rock rolls too far into the road and he abandons it, continuing along down the street. He rubs a hand over the back of his neck where the afternoon sun beats down on him.
There’s the sound of something hitting the wall of the underpass, then the hollering of disappointed boos. His brow scrunches and he turns to look down the slope. On one side is bunch of boys around his age, wearing uniforms like his own. One or two have baseball bats in-hand. On the other side, standing against the wall, is a lone boy with dark hair and glasses. He looks tense and kind of familiar, though Karube can’t quite place him.
Pausing to watch, Karube’s curious.
One of the boys plucks up a baseball, tosses it up and then - crack - hits it. The ball strikes hard into the collarbone of the glasses-wearing boy and he stumbles, but doesn’t fall.
Karube’s mouth twists in surprised disgust. What the fuck was going on here?
The group of boys all descend into laughter, cackling. One grabs the bat from his friend, picking up the ball that’s rolling back towards him. He swings the bat around loosely, Karube can’t head what he’s saying from this distance, but the lone guy stands even more stiffly. The ball’s tossed, hit, and it collides with the guy’s face, knocking him down.
Okay. That’s enough.
Karube drops his bag on the ground. He scoops up an inch-sized rock from the ground, bouncing it in his hand as he starts down the slope. He can hear the group’s taunting now and grits his teeth. These guys are sick. Pulling his arm back, he aims and then hurls the stone at the apparent leader. It’s strikes him above the brow, hard enough to break the skin.
“Gah! What the fuck?” The guy cries out, gripping his face. Karube scoops up another rock, this one larger.
“What? Isn’t this a fun game around these parts? Lobbing shit at each other? Sorry, I don’t have a baseball,” he says sarcastically. He aims another throw and pitches it; the stone collides with a bully’s guts and he immediately keels over.
“It’s that new kid,” one of the bullies says to his boss, “I heard he got kicked out of his last school for beating a bunch of guys up.”
So much for hiding his bad reputation. He shakes it off, tosses a stone up and catches it in his bruised hand. They’re at a stalemate. Karube’s still on the higher ground.
“I think you guys should start fucking off,” he calls over to them. The group looks at him, then the bleeding leader finally relent. He picks his bat up from the ground, nods for his group to start leaving.
“See you around, Niragi,” he calls to the boy by the wall.
Karube waits until they’ve walked away then hurries down the slope to the guy. ‘Niragi’, apparently. Karube thinks he’d seen him in class, sitting a few seats ahead of him. He crouches at his side. For a moment, his eyes pause on the wall. There’s an outline, smudged slightly, clearly battered by balls. His jaw sets, but he looks away and sets a hand on Niragi’s shoulder.
“Hey, are you o-“
Niragi shoves his arm away.
“Don’t you know what you just did? Everything’s just going to get worse now!” He snaps, voice thick. There’s blood dripping from his nose and over his lip, and tears in his eyes.
“I was just trying to help,” Karube argues back.
“Well, you didn’t.”
Niragi swipes a hand over his face, wiping away tears and smudging the blood. He gets to his feet and scoops up his bag and then he’s quickly walking away.
Karube scoffs lightly. He wasn’t necessarily expecting a ‘thank-you’, but maybe some kind of gratitude. Whatever.
Standing up, the toe of his shoe clicks against something. When he looks down, he notices the guy’s glasses and picks them up. By some cosmic luck after that baseball to the face, they’re not broken or even chipped. With a sigh, he folds the temples in and tucks them into his pocket.
He walks in through the front door of his home, sparing a quiet ‘hey’ to his parents before heading to his room. His bag gets dropped on his chair and he pulls the glasses out of his pocket, setting them on the desk. Shoving his uniform jacket off, he flops onto his bed, rubbing a hand over his buzzed hair.
He’s late getting home. He already knows he’s going to get another nagging, one-sided conversation from his father about ‘pulling his head in’. It wasn’t as if he didn’t get passing grades; even if they weren’t necessarily that good, he wasn’t failing any of his classes. He just wasn’t going to stand by and watch people get bullied. It wasn’t like the school was ever doing anything to stop it.
His mother calls him out to dinner and he heaves in a breath, readying himself for the nagging that was to come.
An hour later, he’s showered and sitting tense at his desk over his homework. His father’s words ring around in his head, making him grit his teeth. The disappointed tone, the look in his eyes, it makes Karube feel sick. He can’t even focus on his work. Flicking his books closed, he leans back in his seat.
His eyes settle on Niragi’s glasses. They’re a little dirty, the black frames and lenses smudged with gravel dust. He picks them up, swiping a thumb over the temple arm. Pulling open his desk drawer, he rustles around until he finds a small cloth.
It takes Niragi longer than he’d ever admit to realise he’d lost his glasses. He almost tears his room apart trying to find them, dumping his bag out on his bed, pulling open drawers, retracing his steps from front door to his bedroom. He searches the bathroom three times as if there was some nook he hadn’t checked.
Finally, it clicks.
They’d been knocked off at the underpass. Hadn’t he picked them up? He had to have. That guy had been there though. Had he forgotten to pick his glasses up when he’d been snapping at him?
His mouth curves in a grimace. He’d have to go back there tomorrow morning and search for them. His parents would be pissed if they found out he’s lost them. He’d just gotten a new pair after the bullies broke his last ones.
His sleep is fitful. He keeps opening his eyes to look at the clock on his bedside table. Getting up early in the morning, he dresses and skips breakfast.
The morning air is chilly against his skin as he walks to the underpass. He halts at the gravel slope, drawing in a shuttering breath. It’s been year now that the bullies had been dragging him down here and pelting him with baseballs. What had he ever done to deserve it?
He feels tears gather in his eyes and sniffs, starting down the slope to the underpass wall. He spares the outline of himself the shortest of glances before kneeling down to search for his glasses.
The longer he’s searching, the clearer it becomes that his glasses aren’t there. Tears sting his eyes, his hands and the knees of his uniform are dirty. If he doesn’t leave now, he’s going to be late for school. He curses, heaves in a hitching inhale, then stands to walk back up the slope.
When Karube walks into the classroom the next morning, his gaze turns over his classmates until he spies Niragi. He’s seated in the second row by the window, hunched over at his desk and flipping through a textbook. His eyes are squinting slightly and there’s a slight bruise on his face. For a moment, before he can stop the thought, Karube wonders about the rest of Niragi’s body. If he’s covered in bruises beneath his clothes.
How long had these bullies been doing this to him? Did he even get a chance to fully heal before he ended up with more bruises?
He shoves the thoughts away. Pulling the glasses out of his pocket, he sets them on Niragi’s desk as he passes, not even stopping to say anything.
Niragi’s head lifts, glancing at the returned glasses. He picks them up, surprised to find them clean and in good condition. Looking over his shoulder, he stares at Karube, brows furrowing. The blonde doesn’t look back at him, just slumps to sit at his desk and stare out the window.
Niragi turns back around, slips his glasses on, and turns his gaze down to his book again.
Lunch is only slightly better than after school. Niragi can’t escape the bullies even now in the cafeteria. He’s sitting by himself, like usual. Everyone else knows he’s the bullies’ punching bag and they don’t want to make themselves targets by associating with him.
He doesn’t care. It’s been a few years, he’s used to eating alone. He’s got the top grades in his class, so spending all his breaks studying and not hanging out with friends is apparently working for him. It’s a small comfort to know he’ll at least make it into a good university or college after high school.
He’s barely a few bites into his lunch when they show up. They crowd around him. The boss - Arata - slides into the seat next to him and throws an arm around his tense shoulders. He doesn’t look up to meet any of their gazes, just keeps staring at his food. His panicked heartbeat pounds in his ears, blocking out whatever taunts they’re throwing at him.
“You’re in my seat,” a new voice cuts in. Niragi glances out of the corner of his eye to see Karube standing there. He sets his lunch tray on the table across from Niragi’s. Feeling Arata’s arm tense, Niragi sets his jaw tight. This is bad. It’s going to be bad.
Karube sets his hands on the table, staring down Arata. The healing bruises on his knuckles are purple and green-ish.
“Whatever,” Arata says, tone clipped as he peels his arm off Niragi, “Let’s go.”
He stands, clapping his hand on Niragi’s shoulder. His fingers reach the fresh bruise high on his chest. Somehow he seems to know that fact and squeezes. Niragi swallows thickly, holding back a sound of pain. Arata releases him and the rest of the group follows him. Karube watches after them until they’re far enough away, then turns back to sit down. Niragi stares at him.
“What are you doing?” He asks, voice low and worried. Karube looks up at him.
“Eating lunch?” He replies, there’s a clear amused tone to his voice. Niragi’s mouth flattens into an unimpressed line.
“You should stay away from me.”
“Why?”
“Those guys … they’ll starts bullying you too if you hang around me.”
Karube huffs a short laugh: “I think I can handle them.”
“They’ll bully me worse because you’re protecting me. It’ll pissed them off.”
“Like I said, I can handle them.”
Niragi falls quiet. He picks around at his food, not really hungry any more. Karube’s quiet himself. He kicks his legs out under the table, his feet knocking against Niragi’s own. Niragi immediately pulls his feet away, tucking them under the chair. It’s a long few minutes of silence.
“Why are you trying to help me?” Niragi asks quietly, glancing up at him. Karube’s gaze turns up to him and he shrugs.
“Why not?”
After his last class, Karube rushes to leave, skirting around other students in the hall. At the doors out of the school, he peers out over the departing crowd until he spots Niragi. Hopping down the steps, Karube hurries off after him, soon falling into step at his side.
“Hey,” he says, hiking his bag up on his shoulder.
“Hi?” Niragi replies, confused.
They keep walking along quietly for a few minutes before Niragi starts to eye him.
“What are you doing?” He asks finally.
“Walking you home.”
A choked noise escapes Niragi, a slight pink flush blossoms up his throat.
“W-what?”
“Those guys, they ambush you when you walk home, right?” Niragi pauses, then nods quietly. Karube nods back. “Right. So I’ll walk you home, then they can’t drag you down to the underpass. And if they try, well, I’ll be around to stop them.”
“You really don’t have to -“
“It’s fine, I’m not busy.” His parents be damned; if all goes well, they should just be glad he’s not fighting. Against Karube’s insistence, Niragi relents, it doesn’t seem like it’ll be an easy task to get rid of him.
They walk mostly in silence. Niragi doesn’t know what to say to this guy, he doesn’t even understand really why Karube’s helping him at all. Nobody else ever had, or they hadn’t cared enough to so much as try. Karube doesn’t even know him, but here he is.
It’s not long before they’re getting close to the underpass and Niragi can see the group of guys waiting there. His shoulders tense and his hands grip tight around his backpack straps. Karube’s eyes focus in on them too, his lips curve into a frown. He steps around Niragi, putting himself between Niragi and Arata’s crew as they pass. Arata’s scowling from the second he sees the two together.
“You can’t protect him every day!” One of the bullies calls after them and Niragi’s stomach sinks like a stone. Karube’s hand lands on his shoulder, keeping him walking forward.
“Fuck off!” Karube hollers back, flipping them off over his shoulder without even looking back.
Behind their backs, one of them lifts his arm to lob the baseball at the pair, but Arata stops him.
Almost ten minutes later and they’re walking up to Niragi’s house. Karube pauses on the sidewalk, tucking his hands into his pockets. It’s a nice looking place, clean and well-tended, not that much bigger that Karube’s. Niragi turns back to Karube, chewing his bottom lip.
“Are you going to be okay walking home? Those guys will probably be waiting,” he says, concern lacing his tone. If Karube got beat up because of him …
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Hell, if I can’t fight them all, I bet I’m at least faster.” His tone is utterly relaxed, like he’s not worried at all. He even shrugs. Tugging a hand out of his pocket, he gives a small wave, then turns to head off. “See you tomorrow, Niragi.”
“O-okay.”
Niragi stares after him, his brows creased as he watches Karube walk casually away.
It continues like that for days.
Karube sits with Niragi at lunch and doesn’t stress the silence or push for answers about things Niragi would rather not talk about; like why Arata targeted him or how long it’s been going on or the worst they’ve ever done to him. In the afternoons, Niragi or Karube wait by the front of the school for the other to arrive so they can walk together.
For a while, Niragi worries that Karube will change his mind. That he’ll stop sitting with him or walking him home. That maybe he’ll see whatever thing that’s wrong with him that Arata sees.
Arata watches with a deepening scowl the entire time and his crew grows antsy without their usual plaything to beat around. They’ve even stopped waiting around by the underpass, knowing there was no point when Karube was always around to guard Niragi.
The cut above Arata’s brow is slow to heal, red and angry, and Karube gets a little thrill to see it; the wound’s a testament to his victory, and a reminder that Karube isn’t afraid to play dirty.
Friday afternoon, it’s been almost two weeks since that first Monday at the underpass. Karube and Niragi are walking shoulder to shoulder towards Niragi’s home in comfortable silence. Casting his gaze sideways, Karube looks over him; he’s watched that bruise on Niragi’s face heal over the last two weeks. Better still, Niragi’s perked up a little, standing a little taller with less hunched-in shoulders; Karube’s even managed a smile - though small - out of him once or twice.
“I don’t …” Niragi trails off, mouth slipping into a frown. On the weekends, he was a homebody. The bullying didn’t relent just because it wasn’t a school day. It was easier to just stay home and avoid risking being caught by Arata. He can’t remember the last time he’d had any genuine teenage fun.
“What do you like? You know, there’s an arcade in town. A friend of mine, he used to like going to it, I was …” Karube drags a hand up the back of his neck, a surprising expression of embarrassment across his features, “I was never good at games like that.”
Niragi hums quietly, thumbing at the strap of his bag. He did like video games, he even had a solid collection at home.
“I don’t know why you’d want to hang out with me,” he confesses finally, “You protect me at school, which I already don’t get. I don’t know why wouldn’t just ditch me on the weekend, I would.”
“Well, believe it or not, but I don’t have a lot of friends either.”
“What about that one you just mentioned? The arcade -“
“We don’t talk. We haven’t in ages, since, like, middle school. He lives on the other side of town.” There’s a slight frown that etches itself onto Karube’s mouth, dark eyes forced forward on the path. There’s a pause, an uncomfortable silence.
“Fine,” Niragi says, breaking it.
“What?”
“Let’s go to the arcade this weekend.”
Karube smiles: “Okay.”
People weren’t wary of Karube anymore. Whatever initial fear they’d had of him due to rumours from his past school had died down over the last week. Unlike with Niragi, people actually spoke to Karube, most were even kind. They greeted him in the halls. Girls gossiped over him and giggled when he replied to their hellos.
Niragi’s sitting at his desk. They’re all supposed to be studying. He can hear a girlish laugh from behind him. When he looks back, his mouth twists in a small frown.
There’s a girl - Kazue - sitting beside Karube, sharing his desk. She’s leaning flush up against his arm, pointing to something in the textbook. There’s no reason for her to be sitting so close, Niragi thinks irritably, nor was there a reason for her to be giggling so much, nothing in the textbook was that funny. She’s pretty, which for some reason makes it more annoying to him. Karube doesn’t seem to mind though, he’s chatting quietly with her, leaning closer into her. He’s smiling.
Niragi watches and feels a twinge of … something. He didn’t know the word for it, but it ached as much as it burned.
Karube glances up, catching Niragi’s watching gaze. Immediately, Niragi whips back around in his seat and stares down at his book, though his eyes can’t focus on the words. His face burns with embarrassment at being caught.
He can feel Karube’s gaze searing into the back of his head, until he can’t. He instantly missing the feeling, wishing Karube was still looking at him.
He hears Kazue laugh again and his fingers clench hard around his pencil.
Late afternoon on a Tuesday, Niragi invites Karube inside after they walked home. Karube had been complaining about the math homework earlier in the day and Niragi offered to help him study. He fumbled on calling it a ‘study date’, not meaning it the way it sounded, even as a blotchy flush burned his cheeks. Karube either didn’t notice or feigned ignorance to leave him with whatever dignity he had left.
They’re sitting at Niragi’s dining room table, books spread out across the tabletop. Karube’s hunched over a textbook, frowning, his brow scrunching as he reads. They’ve been at it for almost two hours and Karube’s patience is clearly wearing thin if the sharp, quick tapping of his pen is anything to go by.
“Have you ever considered going to a cram school?” Niragi asks. He’d been enrolled in one when he was younger, but after the bullying started he quit to just study at home. Karube huffs a laugh out through his nose and leans back in his chair as he rubs his tired eyes.
“I was actually planning on dropping out after getting kicked out of my last school, but my parents wouldn’t let me,” he says, casual as ever.
Niragi isn’t really surprised. Karube didn’t seem the type that really enjoyed school at all, nor did he seem to see any reason for it. Dropping out was exactly the kind of thing he expected from Karube, though Niragi doesn’t doubt he would still find some way to make it through life.
It makes Niragi curious though. As much as they hadn’t actually talked about Niragi’s past of bullying, they hadn’t talked about why Karube had ended up at Niragi’s school in the first place. Shifting in his chair, Niragi toys with the page of his book.
“Why did you get expelled from your last school?” He asks, tone a little cautious, as if worried about crossing a line he shouldn’t. Karube glances at him, brow quirking then relaxing as he glances away again.
“Like you haven’t heard what everyone’s said about me,” he answers lazily, flicking his pen between his fingers.
“Fighting?”
“Yep.”
“The people you were caught fighting, were they -“
“Bullies. A real bunch of douche bags. Not as tough as they thought they were, but apparently that worked in their favour since they still go to school there and I got kicked out.”
Niragi shifts in his chair again, nervous as he poses his next questions.
“Do you … regret it? Do you wish you were still going there?”
Karube fixes him with a look, his gaze flicking over Niragi’s features, then he smiles in that way that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.
“No.”
A warmth blooms in Niragi’s chest, a small smile growing on his lips as he turns his attention back to his textbook.
Niragi’s late to lunch. He’d been held up talking to the teacher about part of the homework. By the time he’s heading out to the cafeteria, the halls are mostly empty. He’s moving quick, but he falters when he sees them.
Arata’s crew, just down the hall and in his way. He comes to a full stop in the hallway. He can’t just walk passed them, there’s no way thye’ll just let him passed. Thoughts race through his mind, he considers just turning and walking away. He could explain to Karube later.
His foot shifts a step back, but it’s too late. He’s already been seen.
Arata’s pushing off the wall and heading towards him. Despite his want to run, Niragi can’t help but freeze in place. The smile on Arata’s face has that edge of cruelty that Niragi is all too familiar with. The group flank him on all sides, circling like hungry dogs.
“Where’s your little friend now, huh?” Arata says. Niragi’s jaw locks, fear edging into his expression. Arata’s hand flies out to grab him by the front of his uniform, jostling him. The other four grin, Niragi can feel their eagerness like a sick aura engulfing him. “Come on, let’s go have some fun.”
Arata starts to drag him, Niragi plants his heels in the ground.
“Stop.” It doesn’t come out as loud as he wants, but he still says it.
It makes Arata freeze. The grip on his shirt tightens, white-knuckling.
“What did you just say?” He snarls, turning and leaning closer into Niragi’s face. Niragi fights against flinching. Arata’s other hand closes into a fist. There’s no teachers around, and his group would back up whatever he said happened; both him and Niragi know that.
Niragi braces, waiting for the impact.
Suddenly, a hand grips the back of Arata’s collar, wrenching him away. His hand is yanked from Niragi’s uniform, though not before jerking him forward into a stumble. When Niragi looks up, he finds Karube standing there, stepping in between him and Arata.
His hands are curled into fists, shaking slightly.
A thought hits Niragi; if Karube’s caught fighting, he’s probably going to get kicked out of this school too. It sends an icy feeling through Niragi. If Karube gets expelled, Niragi’s back to having no protection.
The thought appears to occur to Karube too since he turns and takes Niragi by the arm, pulling him along down the hallway towards the cafeteria.
“They didn’t do anything, did they? Are you okay?” Karube asks, voice tight.
“Are you?” Concern laces Niragi’s tone, his feet stumbling from the quick pace Karube’s sets.
Karube breathes out through his clenched teeth, his grip loosens on Niragi’s arm and his steps slowing. A shake of his head like he’s clearing his thoughts, then Karube’s familiar smile is coming back, aimed at Niragi.
“Yeah, all good.”
He doesn’t say how worried he was when Niragi didn’t show up at lunch, or how that worry turned into white-hot anger when he saw Arata grabbing him. Even now, it burns under his skin. Even now, he wants to turn around and go swing a punch directly into Arata’s face.
“You ever think of growing your hair out?” Karube asks one day.
They’re sitting on the couch at Karube’s place. His parents aren’t home and they have the place to themselves. Niragi is the only one of the two actually studying, Karube had given up over a half-hour earlier and was leaning back laxly. Niragi looks up, freezing slightly when he feels Karube’s hand reach out and twist a strand of his hair around his finger.
“Huh?” Niragi shakes out, tries to steady his heartbeat that has suddenly started pounding.
“Yeah, like, if you grew it out, long enough to tie it back like,” Karube sits up, shifting closer to Niragi. In return, Niragi eyes him, curious but sitting still. Karube’s hands lift, carding through Niragi’s dark hair to pull it back from his face. A smile splits across his lips, Niragi’s hair is soft. “It’d look good on you.”
A tingling sparks through Niragi’s scalp where Karube’s fingers had brushed through his hair. He almost trembles underneath the feeling. His heartbeat’s fluttering hummingbird-quick in his chest. He pulls out of Karube’s grasp, trying to force the flush out of his skin.
“Shut up,” he answers, trying to keep his voice steady, adjusting his glasses like he could hide the pink in his cheek. Karube’s hands drop into his lap and he leans back into the couch, laughing.
“I’m serious! You’d look good with longer hair. Plus if you tie it up, then you can’t hide behind it.” Karube lifts a hand to again tug on a strand of Niragi’s bangs that falls in his face. “You’re a pretty guy when you’re not hiding behind your hair, you know?”
Niragi shoves his hand away, his face getting hotter. Karube has to just be teasing him now.
“Will you just get back to studying?”
Another laugh rumbles from Karube and he bumps against Niragi’s side as he sits back up to grab his textbook.
“Whatever, pretty boy.”
Karube feels bad. He’s sure this isn’t something Niragi wouldn’t do if Karube hadn’t called him out. It’s late in the night. The both of them have snuck out. Well, Niragi snuck out. Karube stormed out after another argument with his parents; about his grades, about his actions, about his future. It’s close to driving him insane.
He’s decided to find his relaxation in his dad’s beers that he’d stolen, and in Niragi’s company.
They’re sitting shoulder to shoulder, hidden away and hanging out about 15 minutes from Niragi’s place. The only light that have is from the street lamp on the street a few feet away and the moonlight. Niragi watches as Karube downs the last half of his second beer and quirks a brow, sipping at his own beer.
“Your parents really got to you, huh?” He muses. Karube crumples his can, shoving it in his bag to dispose of later on his way home.
“They’re just so fucking pushy,” Karube sighs out. He rakes his fingers over his scalp, through his short hair. Shaking his head, he tries to force the thoughts away. Picking up his third beer, he cracks it open. He bumps his shoulder up against Niragi’s with a smile. “You know, they should really be thanking you.”
Niragi’s brow scrunches, confused.
“What for?”
“Well if it wasn’t for you, I would’ve dropped out already. You’re the only reason worth sticking around, Niragi.”
Niragi blinks owlishly at him from behind his glasses. Karube notes the way the moonlight plays across his skin, catching on all the angles of his face. His dark hair is falling in his face again. Karube lifts a hand to push one side of his bangs out of the way of his glasses.
In a flash, Niragi plunges forward and kisses him.
Karube is too stunned to react. His hand is still hovering near Niragi’s face, the strand of hair slipping out from between his fingers. He can taste the beer on Niragi’s mouth. Niragi’s lips are soft against his. Karube doesn’t even have the chance to kiss back before Niragi pulls away.
There’s a panicked, bordering on fearful, look in Niragi’s eyes. He jolts to his feet, accidentally knocking over his beer in the process. It clanks and fizzes, spilling out on the concrete.
“Niragi -“ Karube starts softly.
“I have to go.” Niragi cuts in quickly. His shoulders are tense, his hands are gripped into fists at his sides.
“Wait, just -“
Niragi is running off before Karube can even get to his feet.
Gathering up the beer cans, Karube stumbles home in a daze, lead along only by muscle memory. His mind is too full of other thoughts to really focus on getting home. He dumps all the cans of beer, full and empty, in a bin as he passes.
Sneaking back inside his house, he’s moving like being drawn on a string all the way to where he dresses in his pyjamas and climbs into bed, staring up at the ceiling.
He can still feel Niragi’s lips on his all the way up until he falls into a fitful sleep.
Karube walks to school with knots tied in his gut. All night after he got home, he tossed and turned, restless in his sleep. Part of him worries Niragi won’t be there today. He doesn’t want to have to go to his house. He’s not sure that Niragi would even open the door for him.
What was he supposed to say to Niragi? He’d run away last night before Karube could say anything. That scared look in Niragi’s eyes flashes through his mind and he almost flinches at the memory, rubbing his hand over his face.
Did Niragi think Karube was going to hit him?
That makes him feel sicker.
Walking into the classroom, he sighs with relief seeing Niragi sitting at his desk. That relief is short lived though. As he walks over, Niragi doesn’t look up at him. His body is stiff and tense, hunched over a textbook, pointedly focusing on it. Karube’s steps falter. His brows pinch. There’s an aching in his chest.
He forces his feet forward, forces himself to his chair and sits stiffly in it. His eyes settle on the back of Niragi’s head. He wishes Niragi would turn around, that he’d look at him, that he’d see Karube wasn’t angry or disgusted or whatever horrible assumptions are swirling in Niragi’s head.
Niragi doesn’t look back even once. Karube can’t focus during any of his lessons all the way up to lunch.
In the cafeteria, Karube walks up to table where Niragi sits alone.
“Can I sit?” He asks. Niragi’s silent. “Can we talk about it? Later? When we’re walking home?”
Niragi finally looks up.
“You still want to walk with me?” He asks, his voice quavers. Karube’s brows quirk, surprised by the question. His gaze softens.
“Yes. Of course.”
Arata watches from across the cafeteria. Karube and Niragi, his biggest irritant and his punching bag. Karube’s obnoxious smug heroism pissed him off; worse was his influence that was rubbing off on Niragi. That little ‘stop’ rings in his head, an infuriating echo that he can’t block out.
Who did Niragi think he was? He was nothing, a bug, supposed to be crushed under Arata’s foot and be crushed silently. Who was he to tell Arata anything? To tell him to ‘stop’? It’s Karube in Niragi’s head, Arata will force him out - by any means and he had many at his disposal.
Arata’s got ideas, he’s been plotting for weeks. Karube can’t always be there to protect Niragi and Arata will strike when the time is right.
Today, it seems that opportune time is turning it’s head.
“Lover’s quarrel, huh?” He drawls out, head tilting as he watches the duo. They’d been acting oddly around each other all day. His group chortles. Arata sits up straighter, casts his gaze on his crew. “We do it this afternoon. Don’t fuck it up.”
By the last bell, Karube’s hurrying to pack his stuff away. Niragi’s standing quietly by his desk, fiddling with the strap on his bag. He crams the last book into his bag and swings it onto his shoulder, turning to start walking out of the classroom with Niragi when he almost runs into a girl. Rie, he thinks her name is, she’s one of the quieter girls who sits at the back of class on the opposite side of the room.
“Hey, Karube, can I … talk to you?” She asks, her voice meek. Karube blinks, confused. They’d never spoken before. He only even knows her name because of the teacher calling on her.
“Uh, sure?” Rie stares pointedly at Niragi and Karube sets a hand on his bicep, “I’ll meet you at the gate?”
Niragi stares back at Rie, but soon relents, nodding stiffly and walking out of the classroom. Karube shifts his bag, looking back to the short girl. She seems nervous for some reason; her eyes flicker around, she gnaws her bottom lip. His stomach twists, he’s hoping this wasn’t a confession, he’s already got enough on his plate right now.
“So? What is it?” He asks, antsy to get this over with.
“It’s, um, Mister Seno, he w-wanted to see you. Something about your homework, I think …” she trails off. Her voice is tinny and small. She’s still looking around, not at him. Karube’s brows crease. Was she usually this weird?
“Okay? Thanks?”
Mr Seno was the math teacher. Niragi had been helping Karube study, so hopefully whatever Mr Seno wanted to see him about was good news. Hopefully, it would be quick. He turns heel, hurrying towards the door.
“Karube?” Rie calls after him. He pauses at the door, looking back at her. Her expression flickers, eventually it settles into something grim. “N-never mind.”
Weird. He just nods in reply and leaves.
Niragi heads down the hall, frowning. What did Rie want to talk to Karube about? He’d never even seen them interact before and now she was so insistent on talking to him? And alone, no less? He sighs, pulling on bag strap.
It gives him a chance to think about what he was going to say, at least. He’d been turning an apology over in his head since last night, he couldn’t even sleep. It didn’t help that he didn’t really regret the kiss. There’s a large part of him that wants to do it again. He can still recall the softness of Karube’s mouth, that ‘something’ taste beyond beer that he couldn’t place.
He stops at the school gate, sighing and taking off his glasses so he can rub his hand over his face. What the hell was he supposed to say? Make an excuse that he was drunk? What if Karube didn’t want to be around him anymore, and this was the last time he’d be walking with Niragi?
So distracted by his thought, he doesn’t notice people walking up to him until a hand is gripping his shoulder. Jolted back into reality, panic flares in Niragi’s eyes. Arata’s crew, but pointedly missing Arata. Cruelty shines on Saguchi’s face as he hooks his arm around Niragi’s neck.
“Looks like your little boyfriend isn’t coming, guess you’ll have to come with us,” Saguchi says.
Niragi tries to struggle out of his grip and Saguchi responds with a punch into his side, making him wheeze and keel.
Closing his hand over Niragi’s mouth, Saguchi starts to drag him back towards the school. Imaeda grabs his other arm to help pull him along. He feels someone grab at his bag and yank it off him, but he’s powerless to stop them.
In a half-jog, Karube rushes down the hallway. Mr Seno should be at the teacher’s lounge if he’s even still here. It’s out of the way and Karube’s a little annoyed to have to rush across the school and away from the front gate where Niragi’s waiting for him. He makes it there soon enough and slows, taking a few breaths.
Knocking, he steps inside, heading to Mr Seno’s desk and stilling by it. Mr Seno looks over, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he tapped a set of paper into a neat stack and slips them into his bag, clearly readying to leave for the day.
“Yes, Karube?” He asks. Karube’s brow scrunches. Why did he seemed surprised if he’s asked for him?
“Rie said you wanted to see me,” he replies, a little confused, hooking a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of his classroom. Mr Seno frowns.
“I didn’t ask to see you.”
What? His mind races. That weird look on Rie’s face, the mumbling, and apparently she’d been lying? What was her deal? He shakes it off. Forget it. He doesn’t have time for this right now.
“Oh. Must have been a mix up then. Uh, see you tomorrow, Mr Seno.” He fumbles out quickly. Mr Seno stares after him, confused, as he rushes out of the teacher’s room.
Karube all but sprints down the halls, hopping down the front steps and taking long strides over to the front gate. He stops to look around. Niragi’s not there. He frowns. Had Niragi left without him? The thought makes his stomach sink. He really needed to talk to him, to make him understand his side of it. His teeth worry at his bottom lip.
Turning, he looks around, as if he’d missed Niragi waiting somewhere. Instead, he finds something else.
Niragi’s bag, held in the hand of Ota, one of Arata’s lackeys. At Ota’s side is Kanemoto, the tallest in Arata’s group. Both are smirking. Ota swings the bag in hand, a taunt. Karube scowls.
Ota and Kanemoto share a look, release cackling laughs, and then they’re running off around the far corner of the school’s front. Karube shucks his bag and jacket off, rushing after them with a shout to stop.
Imaeda and Saguchi haul him along down the hallway. Niragi tries to plant his feet on the ground, tries to dig his heels in, but nothing works. They kick his legs out from under him, just keep yanking on him. Their fingers dig into him, he’s sure those alone will bruise. If he even gets out of this alive.
Who knows what Arata has in mind. Niragi didn’t need to be a mind reader to know Arata must’ve been stewing in anger for the last few weeks. He’s had so much time to plan something hellish.
They’re heading towards the old side of the school, the part that was closed off and being renovated. Students weren’t supposed to go there, but clearly Saguchi and Imaeda don’t care. It’s dingy and the old lights are dim and yellow. Niragi’s chest heaves, he can’t help the distressed sound escaping him that muffles into Saguchi’s hand.
The duo haul Niragi into the old boy’s bathroom. The lights flicker above them, but that’s not that part that makes Niragi’s skin go cold.
Arata’s leaned up against the sinks, flicking a lighter on and off. The small yellow flame underlights all the lines of his cruelly smirking face. He flicks the lighter off.
Saguchi releases Niragi and Imaeda hauls him in front of Arata, shoving him down to kneel on the cracked tiles. His knees sting from the force of which they hit the ground. There’s an icy tremor that rocks down Niragi’s spine. Arata leans forward, clicks the lighter on right in front of Niragi’s face, close enough that Niragi can feel the sting of warmth on his nose. He tries not to flinch.
“You know, I’ve had a lot of time to think, Niragi, and you really pissed me off,” Arata says, flicking the flame out. His tone is surprisingly smooth in a way that makes Niragi want to hurl. A calm Arata was never good, a calm Arata was exceedingly cruel. “But I finally figured out what I wanted to do. A fitting punishment, I think, for you talking back to me.”
He reaches a hand into his bag that’s sitting in the sink beside him. Out of it, he pulls a long silver tool. It looks a bit like forceps, the ends shaped like loops. He clacks them in Niragi’s direction.
“Did you know my cousin’s a piercer? I borrowed some stuff from him,” He says with a grin.
Niragi wants to run, but Imaeda is still holding his shoulders, pinning him in place. Arata turns again, picking through his bag before pulling out a small plastic box. He flicks it open and pulls out a long hollow needle. Niragi shakes. Arata turns it in his fingers, then holds the needle out to Niragi, who just stares at it.
“Take. It.” Arata’s tone is serious. Niragi’s still frozen. Imaeda kicks him in the side of his thigh. Niragi’s hand trembles as he reaches up to take the needle. He feels like he can’t breathe. This can’t be happening right now. He doesn’t even know what he’s supposed to do, what Arata expects him to do.
Suddenly, Imaeda’s hand wraps around the back on Niragi’s neck, holding his by the scruff. He crouches down beside Niragi and grabs his hand to hold it steady.
“Shit. You know, I don’t think I brought any of that sterilisation stuff. This’ll work though, right?” Arata says, mock apologetic and waving the lit lighter around.
Niragi whimpers. He can feel tears prickling behind his eyes.
Imaeda’s hand grips his tighter, his fingers digging into his flesh, moving Niragi’s hand where Arata wanted it. Arata leans in, holding the flame over the needle. It’s too close to Niragi’s hand, he can feel the bite of the heat. If he has burns later, he wouldn’t be surprised. He struggles against Imaeda’s grip, but Imaeda’s stronger.
Finally, Arata pulls the lighter away, putting the flame out.
“Saguchi?” Arata says. Saguchi, who’d been standing by and watching, just nods.
He crouches down at Niragi’s other side and grabs him roughly by the jaw. Digging his fingers into Niragi’s cheeks, he forces his mouth open. He hooks the fingers of his free hand into Niragi’s mouth over his bottom teeth, forcing his mouth open wider. It makes Niragi’s jaw hurt, like it’s going to break out of place. Niragi’s breath puffs out shakily.
Arata plucks up the forceps again, clicking them, then shoves them in Niragi’s mouth to grab his tongue. He pulls Niragi’s tongue out passed his lips, clutching it tightly between the metal clamp.
“Go on, Niragi, do it,” Arata orders. Niragi can hear Saguchi and Imaeda laughing beside him. He feels like he’s going to pass out. “Do it!”
Niragi doesn’t even feel the pain. He feels the pinch, tastes metal but he can’t tell if it’s the needle or blood. Maybe it’s adrenaline, some part of his brain registers that it hurts, but he’s panicking too much to feel it.
“He actually fucking did it!” He hears Saguchi cackle out, but it’s muffled by his heart pounding in his ears.
“Here, lemme give you a hand,” Arata says, his grin is all cruel white teeth. Niragi can barely see it. There’s black edging into his already tear-blurry vision.
Arata jams a ball-headed piercing in the hollow end of the needle, then wretches it through. Niragi’s stomach jerks. He twists the other side of the piercing on, then tugs on the forceps, looking at the glint of silver between the blood.
“Maybe you’ll think about this the next time you try to talk back to me,” Arata says coldly. He finally releases the clamp, then claps his hand roughly into the side of Niragi’s face.
With a lurch, Niragi hunches forward and throws up. He didn’t eat lunch, so it’s all bile and blood. Arata, Saguchi and Imaeda all leap away from him, hurtling insults in disgust. Someone foot connects with his side. Niragi hears them laughing as they leave, the door swinging shut behind them.
Still kneeling on the cold floor, Niragi sobs, his body heaving. The sounds echo around the room, engulfing him on all sides until it’s all he can hear.
Karube’s fast. He always has been. Catching up with Ota and Kanemoto is easy; it’s made easier when they come to a complete stop. Ota drops Niragi’s bag aside. Kanemoto’s stretching out his arms. As Karube approaches, he rolls his neck, readying himself for a fight.
Karube knows he shouldn’t. If a teacher catches them, he’s fucked. He’s got too many hits on his record. His parents will be pissed if he gets expelled again.
Somehow, none of that matters to him right now. His chest heaves, more from the worried pounding of his heart than the chase.
“Where’s Niragi?” He says, his voice sharp and serious. It’s the only warning they’re going to get, the only chance to answer him while they’re still uninjured.
“You should’ve stayed out of our business. Whatever Arata’s doing to him now, it’s your fault,” Ota taunts.
“Where is he?” Karube thunders.
Neither answers. Kanemoto rolls his shoulders. Ota’s bounces on his feet, readying himself.
If they wanted a fight, then a fight was what they were going to get. Karube’s hands close into fists and he’s landing a punch into Kanemoto’s jaw as the taller rushes towards him.
It’s a two-on-one, but Karube’s not going down easy. It’s not the first time he’s had to hold his own against more than one opponent. He feels the battering of punches, but he keeps snapping back. Kanemoto’s tall and strong, but he’s slow; Karube knows the punches he lands are going to bruise terribly, they’re already aching. Ota’s short but quick, he kicks in the backs of Karube’s knees, trying to drop him. Karube stumbles, but doesn’t topple.
Karube lands a solid elbow into Ota’s nose and feels blood spatter, staining the elbow of his shirt. Ota falls back with a yowl. Quickly, Karube slams his heel out into Kanemoto’s knee, hard enough to hear a crack and Kanemoto drops too, groaning and gripping his leg.
Turning, he kneels and grabs Ota by the shirt, wrenching him up. Tears are welled in Ota’s eyes, there’s blood spilling out from behind the hand that holds his nose. Karube could care less if he’s broken the guy’s nose. Niragi had probably had worse done to him before by Ota’s own hands.
“Where did Arata take Niragi?” He asks, lips peeled back in a teeth-baring snarl. Ota makes a pained noise, Karube shakes him roughly to refocus his attention.
“The boy’s bathroom. Th-The abandoned one, in the older part of the school,” Ota fumbles out, blood dripping over his lips.
Karube shoves him back to the ground. Standing, he glances at Kanemoto and then cracks a kick into his side for good measure, knocking him onto the ground too. Leaving them there, Karube scoops up Niragi’s bag and quickly rushes off.
There’s panic rattling around in his chest. His feet pound on the ground as he runs. His body’s aching, but he barely notices it. All that’s running through his mind is getting to Niragi, hopefully in time before anything awful happens to him.
Karube pauses in the hall of the old part of the school. His chest is heaving, his body aches. He hasn’t been in this part of the school. Which direction was the bathroom in? In a slow jog, he starts down the hallway. Niragi’s backpack swings in his hand.
From far down the hall, Arata, Saguchi, and Imaeda stroll from around the corner, laughing amongst themselves. Karube’s eyes narrow into a glower. Rushing forward, he grabs Arata by the front of his shirt, slamming him into the nearest wall. Arata doesn’t seem fazed beyond being slightly bothered that Karube’s wrinkling his uniform.
“Where’s Niragi?” He snaps. Arata head turn to glance at his friend, the trio cackle.
“Do you really want to waste your time beating us up? When Niragi’s waiting for you?” He asks, taunting.
Karube’s shoulders tense. He wants to punch the smirk off Arata’s face. Instead, he pulls Arata forward to slam him back into the wall hard enough that his head bounces off it, then twists to throw him to the ground. He leaves Saguchi and Imaeda to fuss over Arata. Grabbing Niragi’s bag from where he’d dropped it, he hurries off down the hallway, his eyes scanning to find the bathroom.
Finally he spies it and rushes to it, shoving the door open and stumbling inside. What he finds makes him feel sick.
The lights are dim and flickering, casting everything in eerie dark shadows. There’s a pool of blood on the ground by the line of sinks. Something thin and metallic glints on the ground, covered in blood. Up against the far wall, Niragi is sat up and curled in on himself, his chin to his chest, his forehead resting on his pulled-up knees. His glasses are on the ground beside him.
Karube rushes over, crouching in front of him, setting the backpack on a clean part of the floor. His hands hover over, afraid to touch Niragi unless he hurts him.
“Niragi. Fuck - what happened? Are you okay?” He asks, panicked.
“Where were you?” Niragi’s voice wobbles out quietly. He doesn’t look up, curling tighter in on himself.
The question is a stab to Karube’s heart.
“I - I’m sorry, I -“ What could he say? What answer could possibly make it okay that he hadn’t been here to stop whatever Arata had done to him?
Karube’s hands reach out to softly touch Niragi’s shoulders, sliding down over his biceps. Niragi’s entire body trembles with a wet sob. Finally, slowly, he looks up and Karube sucks in a sharp breath.
There’s faint bruises dug in on his paled cheeks, and blood on his mouth, it’s smudged around where he’s clearly tried to wipe it off and only succeeded in smearing it. There’s wet streaks of tears down his cheeks, muddled with the blood. His dark eyes are rimmed red.
“Fuck,” Karube whispers again, reaching a careful hand to Niragi’s cheek, swiping his thumb gently through the lines of tears and smudged blood. Niragi flinches under his touch. “What did they do to you?”
The question brings another round of tears to Niragi’s eyes, they catch on his fluttering eyelashes. Slowly, Niragi opens his bloody mouth, sticking out his tongue. Sat right in the middle of it is a round piercing, surrounded by swelling, bloody flesh. The sight of it stuns Karube into silence.
“They made me do it,” Niragi says, his voice barely above a whisper before cracking into a sob.
Karube wants to kill them.
“You should have just stayed away from me,” Niragi chokes out, wrenching out of Karube’s grasp and curling back in on himself.
It stings. It stings because Karube knows he’s right.
This is his fault.
Gathering Niragi onto his feet, Karube’s silent. He doesn’t know what to say. There’s nothing he can say. Under the weight of the guilty, he can barely stand to look at Niragi. He forces himself to, he watches as Niragi cleans up his face as best he can in the old mirror. Under the flicking dim lights, he looks ghostly pale, it makes the new red bruises stand out. There’s blood staining into the white collar of his uniform.
Karube feels sick.
He wants to reach out, to try and give Niragi some kind of comfort, but he doesn’t want to make anything worse. He doesn’t even know if Niragi would let him touch him. His hand hovers slightly as they walk down the halls, ready to catch Niragi’s arm if he stumbles. At the school’s gate, Karube scoops up his own bag and jacket.
They’re both silent for a long part of the walk towards Niragi’s home until Karube finally speaks up.
“You should come stay at my place tonight,” he says. Niragi looks sideways at him.
“Why?” His voice is rough and raw.
“Do you really want your parents to see you like this?”
Niragi sighs, touching his fingers to his aching jaw.
“And maybe we can figure out something to do about the …” Karube trails off, glancing at Niragi’s mouth.
“What about your parents?”
“They won’t mind; and they won’t be home until late anyway, so you can get cleaned up before then. Besides, they like you, I would’ve dropped out without you, remember?” Karube tries to force a hint of humour into his tone, his smile pinched.
Niragi doesn’t reply, just casts his gaze on the ground in front of him as he walks. Karube wilts. The smile drops, his shoulders sink. They go back to walking in silence.
Niragi’s standing in Karube’s bathroom. He’d called his parents and explained he’d be staying over Karube’s for the night. Now, he’s in the bathroom and the door’s locked and the lights are almost painful in their brightness. Karube had given him some clothes to change into and taken Niragi’s uniform shirt with the offer to try and get the blood out of the collar. It’s obvious Karube is fumbling to help in any way, struggling between giving Niragi space and crowding him.
Finally alone, Niragi stares at himself in the mirror. He tugs his glasses off, setting them on the counter by the borrowed pyjamas. There’s a few light bruises on his skin, mostly where Saguchi had been digging his fingers into Niragi’s cheeks. His jaw still hurts, but not as badly as his tongue.
He trembles.
He doesn’t want to look. He knows he has to.
With a shaky inhale, he steadies his hands on the counter, leaning towards the mirror. Opening his mouth, he stares in the dark maw for a moment before slowly poking it tongue out. A quiet noise escapes his at the sight.
The piercing is sitting snug in the middle of his tongue, all around it the flesh is swollen and red. The whole walk to Karube’s house he could feel the piercing hitting the roof of his mouth and against his teeth. He feels like he’s going to be sick again.
Tongue ducking back in, he claps his hand over his mouth to muffle the sobs rushing up his throat. He doesn’t want Karube to hear him crying again. Sinking to the ground, he feels hot tears spilling down his cheeks, settling against his fingers. He trembles all over.
What had he ever done to Arata? Why did Arata hate him so much? What did Arata see in him that was so twisted that he deserved this?
After a few minutes, he pulls himself together. He wipes his tears away, sniffling quietly. When he stands, he glances in the mirror again. His face is blotchy and red and bruised.
He showers, dresses, then takes a breath at the door before stepping out.
Karube can’t stay still. Niragi is closed up in the bathroom. Left to himself, he paces back and forth. He’d already cleaned out the blood from Niragi’s shirt and thrown it in the wash, and made up a futon on the ground beside his own bed. Now, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to help Niragi. This wasn’t a baseball to the face or simple punches. They’d made him pierce his own tongue. Then they’d just left him there. On the ground. In some shitty, dark school bathroom. They’d been laughing about it.
He rakes in nails over his scalp. Ota’s words bounce around his skull.
‘Whatever Arata’s doing to him now, it’s your fault.’
Karube had been beating up Ota and Kanemoto while they were doing that to Niragi.
‘It’s your fault.’
He hadn’t been there. Niragi had needed him and he hadn’t been there. Niragi was hurt and Karube hadn’t been there.
‘Your fault your fault your fault your fault.’
He presses his face into his hands, crumpling onto the couch. He needs to put his mind elsewhere, he needs to be thinking of someway to help Niragi. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he sucks in a deep inhale, then sits up to drag his laptop closer.
When Niragi leaves the bathroom about ten minutes later, Karube is frowning. Everything he’s been reading hasn’t been all that good. He glances up when Niragi steps out, and closes his laptop with a short clack.
“Are you …” No, obviously he’s not ‘okay’ on the typical sense, how could he be? Karube corrects himself quickly, “Do you feel okay? Does it still hurt?”
Niragi’s tongue shifts behind his teeth, there’s a small pang of pain whenever the piercing bumps against any part of his mouth. He grimaces slightly, then just shrugs. Karube nervously rubs his hands together.
“I was,” he swallows, clearing his throat and nodding towards his laptop, “I was looking some stuff up and I - I don’t think it’s a good idea to remove it right now.”
Niragi just nods silently, but Karube can see how his shoulders droop. It makes Karube’s chest ache.
Dinner’s awkward. Both Karube and Niragi are quiet through the whole thing. If Karube’s parents notice the light bruises on Niragi, they at least don’t ask. Seeing the twinge of pain every time Niragi talks, Karube makes the excuse that they’re tired from school so his parents will stop asking Niragi polite questions.
They head off to Karube’s room shortly after dinner.
Niragi lies down on the futon, curling up under the covers. Karube stares at him, sighing quietly as he flicks the light off, mumbling a ‘good night’ as he climbs into his own bed.
He can’t sleep. He’s just lying in the dark. From the sound of it, Niragi can’t sleep either. He shifts around, Karube can hear the rustling of the covers. There’s a quiet noise, an almost-silent pained whimper. Karube wonders if it’s because of his mouth or if they’d beat him up too while Karube wasn’t there.
Ota’s voice enters his head again, whispering blame. Niragi’s voices joins it.
‘Your fault’. ‘You should have just stayed away from me’. ‘It’s your fault!’
There’s a prickling behind his eyes that he tries to blink away. His jaw sets tight. Glancing over as he hears Niragi moves again, he finds the other facing away from him.
Karube slips down from his bed, onto the futon behind Niragi. He wraps his arms around him and presses his face into the back of Niragi’s neck.
“I’m sorry.” Tears sting in Karube’s eyes. His words come out choked, half a sob. “I’m really sorry.”
He feels Niragi tremble, then a hand comes up to grip his wrist, holding tightly to it. Karube hugs him tighter, shaking.
They both eventually fall asleep slotted up against each other, their sobs slowly subsiding into even sleeping breaths.
“We could just skip today,” Karube offers as they get dressed in the morning. He’s sitting on his bed with his shirt unbuttoned, pulling his socks on. Niragi’s shirtless himself, leaning against Karube’s desk, examining his uniform collar for any stray specks of blood. Karube can’t help himself but to stare a little; he spies some bruises, dug into his shoulders and his side. A small frown pulls at his lips.
“We shouldn’t,” Niragi answers, his voice still a little rough. He doesn’t say that he’s never skipped a day, even when he was sick. Pulling his shirt on, he looks down as he’s doing up the buttons, pointedly not looking at the smooth expanse of skin Karube had bare.
“Are you sure you don’t want to tell someone? A teacher?”
“It won’t help. It never has.” Niragi sighs. “It just makes things worse, Arata will just think up some new way to punish me for it.”
Karube wants to say that he won’t let Arata hurt him, but he’d already failed once, how can he promise that with any sort of confidence? It re-lights a guilty feeling in his chest.
Niragi finishes buttoning up his shirt, then moves to reach a hand up to his mouth. Karube leans out to grab his wrist before he can.
“You shouldn’t touch it. Just … try and leave it alone.”
“It feels weird,” Niragi complains, but drops his hand away.
“I know, but you just need to leave it alone for a few weeks to heal then you can take it out.” Karube’s thumb strokes over Niragi’s wrist before he lets go.
Niragi turns, picking up Karube’s jacket and passing it to him before grabbing his own.
“Come on, we’re going to be late.”
The thought of going to school seems to loom more terrifyingly to Karube than it does to Niragi. His steps are slower. Maybe if they’re going to be late anyway, he can try again to convince Niragi to just skip for the day.
He doesn’t want to see Arata and his group. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he does. Half of him wants to react with anger and beat them all into pulp, the other wants to stay as far away from them as possible and keep them far away from Niragi.
“You know, we never actually got to talk about … it,” Niragi says, breaking the silence. He doesn’t look fully at Karube though, just glances for a moment out of the corner of his eye before looking back at the path. He swallows thickly, then continues quietly, “About the kiss.”
Oh. Right. With everything else that had happened, it had slipped his mind. Karube reaches out to catch Niragi’s hand to slow him to a stop. Niragi stills, but blinks nervously at Karube from behind his glasses.
“I wasn’t mad when you kissed me. I was just surprised. It was … nice, and I do … like you.” He tries to pick his words carefully, “But if it was just a drunk mistake, if you regret it -“
“It wasn’t - and I don’t.”
“O-oh. Good.” A small smile pulls on Karube’s lips, he can feel the tingling warmth of a blush over his cheeks.
“So can I … kiss you again then?” Niragi asks. Karube’s smile drops slightly, “I mean, we don’t have to.”
“No, I want to!” Karube jumps in, then settles, quieting again, “It’s just - the piercing. I read kissing can risk infection, so …”
“Right,” Niragi sighs, moves to keep walking. Karube still hasn’t let go of his hand and pulls him to stop him again, an idea popping into his head.
“Wait.”
He lifts a hand to Niragi’s cheek, pulling him in close so Karube could press a short kiss to the corner of his mouth. When he pulls back, it’s not very far, still close. He can’t help the smile that grows on his face, especially as he spies the soft look in Niragi’s eyes.
“Good enough?”
“Couple of weeks until it heals, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Good enough then.”
They don’t end up skipping school, even though Karube broaches the option once more before they reach school. At the school gate, they pause for a moment. Karube’s stomach turns. He wants to grab Niragi’s arm and pull him away from the place. Arata’s in there with his group, none of them facing any consequences for what they’d done. The mere thought makes Karube bristle. His hands are bruised from the fight with Ota and Kanemoto and they sting when he closed them into shaky fists.
Niragi grabs his hand, around his fist. Karube exhales slowly, shaking his head clear.
“You seem more freaked out than I am,” Niragi says.
“They tricked me. And they hurt you.” His lips tremble into a frown. “It’s my fault, I should’ve been there to stop them before -“ His voice breaks off and he grinds his teeth, huffing out another breath.
“It’s not your fault.” Niragi squeezes his hand. “It’s not. Arata’s smart, he planned this. I think he thought he could kill two birds with one stone; punish me and hurt you by doing so.”
“He was right.”
Niragi’s expression softens slightly, Karube was really blaming himself for this. It was still hurting him. His mind drags up the memory of Karube sobbing into the back of his neck, his trembling arms wrapped tight around Niragi; he shakes it off and elbows Karube in the arm. Karube looks at him as he rubs his arm, his brows scrunching in confusion at the sudden hit. They both need to pull it together.
“Don’t let him get to you. He’ll just find a way to use it against you and then we’re both fucked.” Niragi knows how Arata’s mind works. If he spies some point of weakness, he’s going to abuse it. Karube nods, taking a breath, expression shifting into something more determined.
He’d failed Niragi once. He was going to make sure it didn’t happen again.
It gets easier to ignore Arata and his group as days pass. Karube and Niragi fall back into routine. For a while, Karube keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Arata to throw some new plan in motion and Niragi to end up hurt again. Arata and his lackeys keeps their distance, Karube makes sure of it.
He on such high alert for so long, his body’s starting to ache under the tension. He only finds any kind of calm when he and Niragi are alone. There’s something of shift with them. They sit a little closer together, leaning in to keep their conversations private, grinning to themselves; Niragi’s hand often finds his, especially when they walk home together; since the piercing is still healing, they can’t really kiss, but Karube finds away around it, pressing kisses to Niragi’s jaw and neck and hands and wherever else he can reach; Karube calls him ‘pretty boy’ and Niragi rolls his eyes, shoving him, but can’t hide his smile.
Slowly, Niragi adapts to the piercing. It doesn’t hurt as much and he doesn’t knock it against his teeth as often. The swelling of his tongue goes down. Sometimes, he finds himself looking at it in the mirror, watching the light glint off it’s surface as he slides his tongue over his bottom lip.
They’re crammed up together on Karube’s bed. Niragi’s pushed down against the mattress, Karube’s on top of him. He doesn’t know at which point he lost his glasses, but they’re not on his face. Music plays lowly from a stereo on Karube’s desk, but Niragi isn’t really being paying attention to it. It’s hard to pay attention to anything other than Karube’s mouth.
Niragi’s hands finds purchase in the fabric of Karube’s shirt. Karube mouths over his jaw, lapping down the side of his neck. His hands slips under Niragi’s shirt, straining the fabric thin and smoothing his warm palms up Niragi’s sides. A quiet moan escapes Niragi.
“Still won’t kiss me, huh?” He shakes out. Karube pulls back from where he’d been sucking a mark into Niragi’s neck, breathing roughly.
“Do you want an infection?”
Niragi whines in complaint, tugging on Karube’s shirt. Karube just chuckles, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It’s nice but it’s not enough, Niragi wants to kiss him, wants to be kissed by him.
Eventually, they wear themselves out. There’s a short line of dark hickeys over one side of Niragi’s collarbone, barely obscured by his unbuttoned shirt. Karube’s own shirt is half-unbuttoned and wrinkled at parts from Niragi’s gripping hands.
Panting to try and catch his breath, Niragi’s staring up into the ceiling. Karube’s rolled off him to lie next to him. Their hands are close together but neither have reached out to intertwine them. Niragi draws in a deeper breath, gathering confidence to verbalise the thoughts that have been swirling in his mind for over a week. Now or never, he decides.
“Does it make me crazy if I want to keep it?” He asks softly. His tongue shifts behind his teeth, he presses the piercing up against the roof of his mouth. Karube’s quiet; his fingers shift, the backs brushing against Niragi’s knuckles.
“It’s up to you if you want to keep it or take it out.”
Niragi glances sideways at Karube.
“Do you hate it?”
Karube sighs quietly, then turns to face him.
“I hate what they did to you. But, the piercing … I think I’m getting use to it. I guess. I don’t know.”
Niragi’s hand shifts, tangling his fingers with Karube’s. It’s a non-answer, but Karube doesn’t seem disgusted by the idea, so Niragi relaxes again, turning his gaze back to the ceiling. After a beat and with a short hum, Karube shuffles closer, bumping their shoulders together.
“Do you know who’d hate that you like it?”
A small smirk twists to Niragi’s face.
“Arata?”
Karube laughs, leaning his head next to Niragi’s.
“He’d be pissed if it didn’t torture you like he wants it to.”
There’s a laugh that threatens to slip passed Niragi’s lips, he turns his head to hide it, but squeezes Karube’s hand. Karube huffs another short laugh, his eyes crinkle at the corners. Their giggles soon slow and they fall back into a comfortable silence, still holding hands.
It occurs to Niragi when they’re walking home one day … or, well, he’s going to pretend it simply occurs to him now. Glancing around, he checks to make sure they’re alone. The streets are pretty clear, the sun is setting in the distance. As two students walking around this time of the afternoon, they don’t draw much attention.
Niragi hums, glancing sideways at Karube.
“You know, it’s been almost four weeks,” he says, as if it’s just popped into his head, like he hasn’t been counting down the day. Karube quirks a brow at him, curious. “My piercing’s pretty healed by now.”
“Oh, really?” There’s a small twitch of a smile on Karube’s lips. Niragi isn’t as sly as he thinks.
“You could kiss me now.”
“Huh, guess so.”
Karube keeps walking along, though his eye flicker quickly to their surroundings; clear and empty. Beside him, Niragi pouts slightly. Karube can’t help but laugh.
He catches Niragi by the elbow, pulling him in to kiss him. Niragi’s hand slides up his chest to his neck, fingertips sliding over the short hair at his nape, pulling him in closer. There’s no taste of beer, but his lips are still as soft as the first time. The flick of Niragi’s tongue is shock enough, drawing a noise out of Karube, but the surprise is added to by feeling of his piercing.
Niragi grins against his lips. Karube just melts into it, pulling him in closer.
