ft. Mikey, Rindou, Chifuyu, Sanzu, Kakucho, Draken
SANO MANJIRO — Having you hunt his beloved sleep is exhausting. He couldn’t even sleep a wink without you appearing in his dreams. It would’ve been fine if it were simple dreams of you guys hanging out — but his wet sheets, boxers and flaming up in his sleep — you are hunting him.
Emma’s best friend is staying for the night — you are staying for a sleepover. That’s what mikey heard.
Well, you sleeping over at their house wasn’t the problem at all. It’s you — following Emma, walking around in your sleeping gown as if it’s your house.
“Ngh.. gahhh”
“Shh… My family might hear you..” Mikey whispered, hushing you, fixing the way he sits on the bed before giving you a peck on your breast, his hips buckling up — deeper, to feel your heat.
He lifts your night gown just slightly above your waist, his hands holding your waist to keep them up. His dull, black orbs landed below, looking at how his manhood was swallowed by you completely.
His compact yet powerful arms slightly raised you up, just enough before the tip of his shaft detached from you. Lazily, he lets you fall down, releasing a groan. You felt a tap from your behind, Mikey signaling you to move for your pleasures.
You locked eyes with him, a hand placing on his puffy cheeks, “I’ve always wanted to do this with you.”
“Shit.” He cursed out, burying his face on your chest. Dick throbbing as he releases warm, thick liquid inside you. It was as good as a dream.
“Mikey, wake up! It’s time to eat!”
Woke up heading straight to the bathroom w his sheets in his hands. It’ll go on for days, even when you’re not around.
Emma will be worried and ask him to get his bladder checked thinking it’s just him peeing on his bed
His dreams always includes you doing the first move, telling him how much you love him — his cock and how you wanted him for a long time cuz deep inside that’s how he wants you to act in front of him :P
HAITANI RINDOU and his brother are greatly into fashion. They often attend fashion shows in VIP rooms with a drink in hand — watching to recruit their possibly new designers or models.
And a fashion show with beautiful females are a dream come true for a teenage boy — especially w the swimsuit runaways
“Have dinner with me.” The young boy asked — more like commanded, looking at your taller figure. You’ll say yes, he knows it. You can’t decline, they run the whole roppongi after all.
Him tracing those beautifully curved spine after a good drink of an expensive wine in a bar, your face buried on his pillows, releasing muffles whilst he ram his cock in your cunt.
Groping your huge circle cheeks below, spreading them wide; spitting on your ass hole as watch it slowly falls on your slit — his thrust keeping its speed. slow but deep.
“You like that, yeah?” He’ll ask.
“I want this ass only for my eyes. Okay, pretty?”
With enough slap in your ass, you’ll definitely understand him. He’ll keep you for his sole pleasure alone, a model of his own.
“Sure. Maybe in a few more years. Who knows, I might even let you hit.”
You ended up declining him and leaving him in his thoughts — he didn’t even chase for you, he was left there in a daze. He’s a spoiled child who hasn’t received a no after all. Will not tell Ran about you nor his perverted thoughts. Will forever be embarrassed he got declined.
Honestly thought it was easy to get a girl. His brother made it look so easy.
Will come and find you years later to do every fantasies he has thought of you. Back shot, missionary, cowgirl, sixty-nine — whatever it is, you’ll be doing it in a day.
CHIFUYU MATSUNO who finally got a nerd girlfriend — going out on their first date, finally seeing his nerdy girlfriend fix and tidy up herself just for him got his blood running.
You weren’t wearing anything revealing at all — It was just all on him. Maybe he got a little too excited on your first date?
“hah”
The blonde threw his head back, toes curling, as he releases heavy breaths. His hands aggressively oscillating between the tip and the end of his shaft.
*Ting*
The boy halted, his freehand took the phone from the nightstand whilst keeping the other hand holding his manhood; his thumb playing with the pinkish tip of his cock, flushing red from the forceful abuse.
Jgh, booboobear !! I can’t wait to see you again.
Sent a photo.
Oh, heaven, you look so damn perfect. He caught his lower lip beneath his upper teeth, closing his lids, “Oh, fuck.” He cursed out, looking at your photo as he cries your name in between breaths.
Who knew chifuyu was this perverted?
Would be so awkward facing you again. He’ll avoiding you and your gazed for 3 days bcs of his conscience !!Will ask you for more of your update photos next time just so he could jack off of you >>
SANZU HARUCHIYO go low for his devotion for Mikey.
He’d go stealing your panties when he heard from Baji that Mikey also likes you — also, meaning he also thinks you’re so cool even if you don’t how to fight; but kept on denying it knowing you’re Mikey’s possession already. His boss is his priority after all.
Going that low to steal your panties for the boss but ended keeping them and using it for his own instead. Surely, he can get another for Mikey, right?
*Snfffttttt*
Sanzu took a deep breath, head throwing back, hitting the interior of his room’s door with your undergarments in between his palm and nose, inhaling your feminine smell.
You smell so fucking great — it’s as if he’s getting high. It makes him so damn excited; blood rushing through his body.
His eyes fell to the clothed budge on his lower body — cock throbbing, hurting from too much hardness. Holding the panties with his teeth, his hands took off his lower clothing, releasing his massive erection.
A groan in pleasure came out on the young adult’s mouth from the sudden contact of his hardened shaft to his abdomen. A hand reached for the underwear once more — eyes rolling back after sniffling the pleasant smell. His free hand made its way to his throbbing erection, gently stroking the hard rock cock.
“Ahhhhh, fuckkk..”
You’re so fucking addictive — more addictive than a damn drug.
Would definitely snoop in your room to steal more undergarments when the fragrance from the old one he’s using is gone. ( and will forget that he even started this addiction for Mikey )
He’d always be hard in your presence — when you’re passing by — smelling your perfume — he’d have perverted thoughts of you every time he sees you.
KAKUCHO HITTO having you as his childhood friend in the orphanage with izana, a person whom he used to sleeps together in the same bed.
One day, you caught a cold; and the thin blanket from the orphanage isn’t helping. Izana suggested that Kakucho should warm you up — the black haired latter also agreed knowing his intentions are pure. They were. Or they used to.
“Kakucho?” You called out to Kakucho who’s hugging you from behind. He was quiet — awfully at that.
“Are you asleep?” Again, you called out, about to look behind to face the young man; but, were abruptly halted when his muscular arms pulled you closer.
“I…Isn’t it a bit too hot?” He finally spoke.
“No, It’s fine. Thank you so much, Kakucho. I’ll take a bathroom break, okay? Stay here for me.”
You pushed yourself out of the mattress, sitting up and looking sideways to take a glimpse of Kakucho whose eyes are closed, flushed red, sweating too much.
“Oh no, did you catch my cold?” You asked, leaning towards Kakucho and placing the back of your hand on his forehead. “Thank God you’re not that hot.” You said, leaving the young man on the bed.
Yes, thank God. Thank God you finally left.
Kakucho took a weary breath, pulling the blanket above his shoulders and placing a pillow between his arms.
Calm yourself.
He thought to himself, but the thought of you — placed in between his arms; so small, something that he could manhandle so easily — and your sweet fragrance that still lingers on the pillow he’s hugging is getting his blood pumping.
Brain fogged, Kakucho slowly placed pressure between him and the pillow — his hardened cock, aching to receive some friction. He’s so dirty minded, the guilt will surely eat him later.
“Kakucho?”
You’d ask him why he’s so covered up while burning up from the heat, taking a bath from his own sweat. He’d make up excuses, saying he’s just warming himself up for you; literally, a loyal dog in heat.
RYUUGUJI KEN with his infinite patience and understanding would admit he had teenage boners from you but with pure, clean, genuine intentions. Instead of thinking something perverted — naughty, he’d have thoughts of you having his children, taking care of them, carrying them from your belly to your slender arms.
Draken fixed his oversized white t-shirt, pulling it from the hem to make it lower; hiding his erected length. He watches you as you stood in front of him, lending a hand to the children who tripped on the sidewalk on your way home.
You’ve always been good with kids; one of the things ryuuguji ken likes about you. He imagine you being such a good mother — starting a family with you.
Him showing you his massaging skill, giving you relief every time your back hurts from carrying his child. He’s sure, you’ll look so damn pretty with his child in your belly.
He’s willing to serve you wholeheartedly. You only need to stay by his side, take his sperms — I mean, children; and he’d give you his whole world. But you should dirty talk him some times, and
Maybe he’d also like the process of making it.
@makies all rights reserved. Please refrain from reproducing, translating, adapting, or redistributing this work without prior permission
TOKYO REVENGERS LIST — Read more of the author’s work
a/n: thank you for this new commission!!!! I'm so happy you like my fics so much aw (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) ‹𝟹 anyway, I hope your name isn’t mia…
words count: 8.6k
anime m.list || ao3 || ko-fi
The last bell rings, and your classroom empties fast. Students push past each other, laughing, complaining, running out. You pack slowly. You always take your time because you know what happens when you walk out late.
He’s there.
Same hallway. Same wall. Same posture… arms crossed, back straight, one foot against the wall.
Draken doesn’t look like he belongs in a school hallway. His uniform jacket is open, and he’s wearing sneakers the teachers hate. His tattoo stands out in the sun coming through the windows.
His eyes find you the moment you step out.
“There you are,” he says, relief slipping into his voice “Thought you got locked in again.”
“That happened ONE time!” you remind him.
He smirks “Yeah. And ever since then, I check.”
You walk toward him. He pushes off the wall and stands next to you like you’re leaving together, even though he wasn’t in class and has no reason to be here.
“Skipping again?” you ask.
“I wasn’t skipping,” he lies easily “I was… supervising Mikey.”
“You mean Mikey dragged you to the roof to nap?”
“…No comment.”
You laugh, and Draken’s eyes soften in that quiet way he tries to hide.
He walks with you toward the stairs. His steps match yours without him thinking about it.
“You good today?” he asks “Teacher said you looked pale during math.”
Your face heats “Why did the teacher tell YOU that?”
He shrugs “Because I was standing in the hallway and she knows I listen more than Mikey.”
You cover your mouth to hide a laugh “Wow. High praise.”
Draken’s lips curl “I guess.”
As you both walk down the stairs, he asks quietly, “Did someone bother you today?”
“No,” you say “Why?”
He doesn’t answer right away. His brows pull together, and he looks a little… irritated?
“Some first-years were talking,” he says finally “About you.”
Your stomach flips “Talking how?”
Draken looks straight ahead “Doesn’t matter. I told them to shut up.”
“Draken—”
“What?” He glances at you “They were annoying.”
You try not to smile “You didn’t scare them too much, right?”
“I didn’t touch them.” his voice softens “I just didn’t like how they talked about you.”
Your heart jumps.
You reach the shoe lockers. You kneel to change your shoes, and so does he, even though he didn’t wear school shoes today. He does it anyway, just to crouch next to you.
“You going straight home?” he asks.
“Probably. Why?” you try to sound normal and casual, not like your pulse is going crazy.
He picks at a loose thread on his glove “I was thinking… maybe I could walk you. If you want.”
You look at him. His face is turned away, but you can tell he’s nervous. Draken… nervous. It makes your chest warm.
“Well,” you say softly “If you want to.”
He scoffs “If you want to.”
“You’re impossible.”
“You’re the one making it complicated.”
You look at each other.
Then—
“DRAKEN! I BOUGHT PAN!” Mikey’s voice explodes across the hall as he runs full-speed toward you, mouth full of bread.
Draken groans “Oh my god—”
Mikey leaps onto Draken’s back, almost knocking him over.
“Eat this!” Mikey tries to shove a half-eaten piece of bread into Draken’s mouth.
You laugh, hiding your face as Mikey clings to Draken like a happy child.
Draken looks at you through Mikey’s arms, with an embarrassed, helpless smile he only ever shows you.
“Tomorrow?” he asks over the chaos.
Your smile is small but sure “Yeah. Tomorrow.”
The next day is long and boring. Classes feel heavier because you keep checking your phone. Draken usually waits for you after school.
Your phone buzzes right when the last bell rings.
Draken: I can’t make it today. Toman has a meeting.
Draken: Sorry.
You read the message twice. Your heart sinks a little.
You text back: Is it a dangerous meeting?
He replies fast.
Draken: No. Just talking. Nothing crazy, I promise.
Draken: Don’t worry.
You stare at the screen. You bite your lip.
He tells you not to worry… So, of course, you grab your bag, leave school, and walk straight to the Toman meeting place anyway.
You don’t tell him. It’s not really a surprise, but you also don’t warn him.
The meeting spot is an empty parking lot behind an old building. Motorcycles line the walls. Voices echo inside.
Before you go in, someone steps out.
“Mitsuya?” you call.
He blinks, surprised for a second, then smiles warmly “Oh? Y/N? Didn’t expect to see you here.”
You nod “Um… I came to see Draken. Do you know where he is?”
Mitsuya smirks, amused “Yeah. Come on.” He gestures with his hand in that calm, friendly way of his.
You walk beside him, and the two of you talk easily. Mitsuya is relaxed, chill as always. It feels normal.
But the second you enter the meeting area, the room goes quiet.
Draken sees you.
He stands in the middle of the group, arms crossed, listening to someone talk but the moment you walk in with Mitsuya, he freezes.
His eyes widen just a little. Then they soften. Then they panic, just a bit.
Mitsuya nudges Draken with his elbow and says loudly, “Here’s your boy.”
The whole group explodes.
“Oooooh—”
“Ken-chin, you didn’t tell us!”
“Draken’s girl came to pick him up!”
“Look at him, he’s blushing!”
“I AM NOT!” Draken snaps, ears turning pink anyway.
You cover your face with your hand “Oh my god…”
Draken groans, grabs your wrist gently, and pulls you toward the exit.
“Don’t listen to them,” he mutters under his breath “They’re idiots.”
“They’re funny” you say.
“They’re annoying” he corrects, but he’s smiling a little.
Outside, the air is cooler. Draken stops walking once you’re far enough from the noise.
He looks at you, confused and soft at the same time “Why are you here? I told you I couldn’t walk you today.”
You shrug “Well… you have to walk me home.”
He blinks “I literally just said—”
“But,” you interrupt, “if you’re busy… I brought you something to eat.”
You hold up a small bag of food you bought on the way. He stares at it. Then at you. Then back at the food.
“You… brought me lunch?”
“Yeah,” you say, suddenly shy “You keep missing meals.”
Draken looks down at the bag like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen.
Then he clears his throat and tries to act cool “Uh… thanks. You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to” you say quietly.
That gets him.
His expression changes, it softens in a way you rarely see.
He opens the bag, peeks inside, and his shoulders relax “Taiyaki? You remembered.”
“Of course I remembered.”
He takes a breath, then says, “The meeting’s done anyway. Mikey already ran home.”
“So… you’re free?” you ask.
Draken looks at you for a long moment with a warm, careful, happy look.
“Yeah,” he says “I’m free.”
You smile “Good. Walk me home, then.”
He steps beside you, close enough that your hands almost touch.
“Yeah,” he says again, voice lower this time “I’ll walk you.”
And he does. All the way.
Class ends. People rush out. You pack your things slowly, like always, expecting to see him leaning on the wall outside your classroom door.
But today… He’s not there.
No tall figure. No braid. No soft “There you are.”
Your stomach drops a little.
You pull out your phone to text him while walking down the stairs.
Are you coming?
You don’t send it yet. You reach the bottom of the stairs, turn the corner and you stop. Because he’s there.
Draken stands at the entrance of the building, talking to a girl you’ve never seen before. She’s pretty. She’s smiling up at him. And they’re standing… close.
Your steps freeze for a moment.
You stay where you are, pretending to check your phone, but really you’re watching them. You’re waiting for the conversation to end.
Draken doesn’t look uncomfortable. He doesn’t look happy either. Just stuck, listening politely.
Finally, the girl bows slightly and walks away.
The moment she steps aside, you move forward like nothing happened.
Draken sees you and straightens up “Hey—”
“Who was that?” you ask, eyes following the girl as she leaves the school grounds.
He raises an eyebrow “Jealous?”
You punch his shoulder lightly “Why would I—” you cut yourself off before you say too much “Why would I be jealous? I was just asking.”
“Sure.” he says, smirking.
You try to walk past him, but he quickly steps to your side and falls into pace with you like he always does.
“I was coming to you,” he says, voice calmer now “Then she stopped me.”
“What did she want?” you ask without looking at him.
He shrugs “Asked me if I’ll ever come back to class. So I guess she’s a classmate? Maybe she’s the class president, I don't know.”
You blink “…You don’t know your class president?”
“I don’t know anyone in class,” he mutters “I don’t go that much.”
Fair enough.
You keep walking, but Draken clears his throat loudly, like he wants to change the topic fast.
“So,” he says suddenly, “Mikey tried to steal a stray cat this morning.”
You give him a look “Draken, that has nothing to do with—”
“He tried to put it in his bag.” Draken continues.
You sigh “Did it scratch him?”
“Yeah. He deserved it.”
You roll your eyes, but inside, the tight feeling in your chest starts to fade. He’s walking close again. He’s talking like he always does. He’s Draken. Your Draken… even if he doesn’t know it.
Still, as you reach the school gate, you can’t help glancing one more time in the direction that girl walked.
Draken notices.
“…Don’t think about her.” he says quietly.
You look up at him.
He stares straight ahead, hands in his pockets, voice low “She doesn’t matter.”
Your heart skips a beat.
You don’t answer but you don’t need to.
He walks you home anyway.
The next day, you notice Draken isn’t waiting for you outside your classroom.
Instead… you spot him at the entrance, talking with the girl again. The same girl. Pretty, confident, laughing at something he says.
You swallow. Your chest tightens, but you do what you’ve done since yesterday.
You wait.
And after that day it becomes every day, the same routine. You wait for the girl to leave, then approach him. You never interrupt. You don’t say anything. You tell yourself it’s fine, he’s Draken, he’s free to talk to whoever he wants, but it still hurts.
Today is no different… until it is.
You notice the girl reaches out and lightly touches his arm. His head tilts slightly, caught off guard, but he doesn’t pull away.
Something inside you snaps.
You walk forward, steady, even though your stomach feels like it’s twisting.
“I’m here,” you say softly but loud enough for them to hear “Sorry I always make you wait for me.”
Draken freezes, looking at you with wide eyes “Huh…?”
The girl glances at you, confused, but you step closer to Draken, gently closing the space between you two.
You turn to her with a polite smile “I’m Y/N.”
She straightens, still smiling, and introduces herself “I’m… uh, Mia.”
You nod once “Are you his classmate?”
Mia hesitates, then nods “Yes… we’re in the same class.”
You tilt your head, curious “Are you the class president?”
Mia frowns, confused “No… why?”
Your eyes flick to Draken for a moment. He’s looking at you, still confused. You glance back at her “Oh… okay. Nice to meet you. I have to go now, excuse me.”
You step past them and start walking away.
Draken doesn’t move.
You stop for a split second, expecting him to fall in step beside you, like he always does. But he doesn’t.
Your chest tightens. You realize, for the first time, that maybe you took it for granted that he would always follow.
You keep walking anyway, forcing your shoulders to stay straight. But inside, it stings more than you expected.
The day after your encounter with Draken and Mia, you head toward the school entrance again, hoping maybe today would be different.
But there they are.
Draken, standing near the gate, talking with Mia. And this time… she’s carrying a bag.
From the way she holds it, you can guess what’s inside. Food. She’s probably asking him to eat together.
You freeze.
Your stomach twists.
Without thinking, you duck behind a pillar, hiding. Your heart beats too fast, your hands tremble slightly.
Mia smiles, showing him the bag “I brought lunch. Want to eat with me?”
Draken looks down at the bag, blinking slowly. He’s quiet for a moment, and you can see him thinking.
He doesn’t say no immediately.
Anger and frustration mix in your chest.
Why didn’t he just say no right away?
You pull out your phone quickly and type a message.
I had to leave earlier. Took my dog to the vet.
It’s a lie. You didn’t even have a dog. But you don’t want to meet him after this. You can’t.
You press send and look at them again.
Draken glances at his screen, his eyes flicking down at it. Then… he looks up toward the spot where you usually wait for him.
Your heart stops.
He doesn’t see you.
Mia laughs softly, tugging at his sleeve. He smiles and nods, and together they start walking away.
You watch them go.
Your chest aches. You were so close to seeing him, to talking to him, to being with him today as you always used to, but instead… he’s leaving with someone else.
You stay hidden for a while, letting the bitterness settle.
When the hallway is empty, when the laughter fades and the noise dies down… you finally step out.
You walk home.
Alone.
Sad.
The kind of sadness that’s quiet and heavy, wrapping around your chest and refusing to let go.
You tell yourself tomorrow will be different, but right now… all you can do is keep walking.
The next morning, you stare at your phone a little too long.
What should I say?
Finally, you type: I’ll hang out with my friends after school today.
It’s a lie. You don’t have plans. You’re not going to meet anyone.
But you need a reason to not see him, to not deal with him and Mia again.
School drags on slower than usual.
You stay in class, pretending to study. Glancing at the clock every few minutes.
Everyone leaves eventually, one by one. The halls empty.
Even Draken and Mia are gone.
You stayed longer than anyone else, waiting, hiding, avoiding. And still… he doesn’t know.
Now, everyday, after school, you find excuses to avoid the entrance. You tell yourself it’s for your own peace, but a small voice in your head whispers that it’s for something else: to avoid seeing him with her again.
You don’t meet him at the stairs. You don’t meet him outside.
You just go home.
What hurts most is not just Mia, not just seeing him with someone else.
It’s that he never asks.
He doesn’t text. He doesn’t check if you’re okay. He doesn’t even notice that your paths no longer cross like they used to.
It’s as if he doesn’t see that you’re gone.
You keep telling yourself he’s busy. That he’s just caught up in Toman things.
But it still stings.
Every step you take toward home feels heavier than the last.
You realize… maybe the hardest part isn’t Mia.
It’s being invisible to him.
It’s break time, and the hallways are crowded with laughing students. You decide to grab a drink from the school vending machine.
You turn the corner… and there he is.
Draken. Standing there, like he’s been waiting for you all along.
Your stomach tightens. You try to walk past him toward the machine.
“Are you finally free today?” he asks, stepping slightly in front of you.
You hesitate, then try again to slip past, but he moves just enough to block you.
You sigh, exasperated “No.”
He raises an eyebrow “No? Then what are you doing that’s keeping you so busy?”
You glance around quickly, desperate for an escape.
Then you spot Chifuyu, talking with some boys, probably classmates of his.
A plan forms in your head.
“Hey, Chifuyu!” you almost yell, walking toward him “Is it okay if we meet five minutes after the bell rings today? I have to talk to a teacher before we go.”
Chifuyu looks confused, but before he can answer, you whisper urgently, “Please help me out… I’ll explain later.”
He nods calmly, understanding immediately “No worries. I’ll wait outside your classroom.”
You smile at him and nod quickly “Thank you! See you later!”
Then you turn back and there’s Draken.
Still staring.
Still standing in the hallway like he hasn’t moved a muscle.
Your heart skips a beat.
You take a deep breath, straighten your shoulders, and walk past him to the vending machine.
You select your drink, press the button, and grab it.
And this time… he doesn’t stop you.
He just watches quietly from the same spot.
You glance up at him, catch his eyes for a second, and see that faint mix of surprise and… something else.
You sip your drink slowly, trying not to let him see how much your chest is still racing.
Draken stays there until you turn away completely, then finally moves.
For now, you’ve won this little standoff.
After the last bell, you pack your bag slowly, waiting for the hallways to empty a little. You step out and there he is.
Chifuyu.
Standing against the wall, hands in his pockets, looking casual but also… kind of worried.
You blink “Didn’t think you’d come for real…”
He smiles lightly “I’m too curious. And it looked like you needed someone to talk with.”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding “Yeah… thanks.”
You walk beside him toward the stairs, feeling oddly safe. Chifuyu doesn’t pry. He just follows your pace.
But as you reach the exit you both stop, because you see them.
Draken and Mia, standing at the exact same spot they’ve been for days. She’s talking to him with that soft smile, head tilted, voice sweet. Her hand brushes his arm again, and Draken just… lets her.
Your chest tightens, you feel something drop inside you.
Chifuyu follows your gaze. He notices how Draken isn’t pulling away. He notices how Mia leans toward him like she has the right. He notices how you swallow hard and look away.
“This…” you say quietly, unable to keep the bitterness out of your voice, “…this is the problem.”
Chifuyu nods slowly “Yeah. I see it now.”
You don’t stay another second. You turn around and walk away, your steps fast and sharp. Chifuyu follows you immediately, matching your pace.
But what you don’t see, as you pass by Draken and Mia without stopping, Chifuyu slows down for a single second as he turns his head just enough to look at Draken with an expression that says: “What the hell are you doing, man?”
Draken’s eyes flick from Mia… to you… to Chifuyu’s glare.
Confusion flashes on his face.
But Chifuyu doesn’t wait for him to respond. He quickly catches up to you again, walking at your side as if he’s been doing it forever.
Draken stays behind, frozen for a moment.
And… his chest feels tight. Like something important is slipping through his fingers, and he doesn’t understand why.
When you and Chifuyu finally leave the school grounds, the quiet hits you first. A soft kind of silence. One that makes everything feel heavier… but also somehow safe.
Chifuyu doesn’t rush you. He just walks at your side, hands in pockets, waiting for you to talk.
You take a deep breath.
“I guess… I should explain.” you mumble.
Chifuyu gives a tiny nod “Only if you want to.”
You do want to. So the words start coming out. You tell him everything.
How Draken used to wait for you every day. How the routine made you feel close to him. How Mia suddenly appeared. How he didn’t push her away. How he didn’t even notice you disappearing.
How much it hurts.
Chifuyu listens without interrupting.
When you finish, your throat feels tight.
“I know he’s your friend…” you say quietly “Family, even. And I know you have this Toman moral, or whatever, to follow… loyalty and all that.”
Chifuyu tilts his head a little “Yeah, we do.”
You look at him, eyes serious “Please don’t tell him what I told you. Please. I don’t… want him to know.”
Chifuyu stops walking.
You turn to face him, worried you said something wrong, but he’s just frowning thoughtfully.
“I won’t tell him,” he says “I’ll keep all of it to myself.”
You let out a small breath of relief.
“But,” he adds, “I am gonna give you some advice.”
Chifuyu crosses his arms, looking like some mastermind strategist in a crime drama.
“Okay,” you say, “hit me with it.”
He nods like he’s about to drop ancient wisdom passed down from his ancestors.
“First,” he says seriously, “you should ignore him harder.”
You blink “…What?”
“Yeah,” he continues, completely confident “If ignoring him made him look confused today, imagine if you do it for a whole month. He’ll freak out. Men fear silence.”
“…A month?”
“You wanna make him suffer or not?”
You stare at him, speechless. This boy is supposed to be smart.
He keeps going.
“Second idea,” he says, holding up two fingers, “you should get a fake boyfriend.”
“What? NO.”
“Just hear me out.” He points at himself slowly, like he hasn’t thought this through “I could—”
“No.”
He freezes “You didn’t let me finish.”
“I didn’t need to.”
He squints at you “You’re kinda rude.”
“You’re kinda insane.”
He coughs, offended, and looks away dramatically “Fine. Scrap idea two.”
“Please scrap idea two forever.”
He clears his throat.
“Okay then,” he says, suddenly serious again, “here’s the third plan.”
You brace yourself.
“You should show up tomorrow with a giant lunchbox and give it to someone else.”
You stare at him.
“Like… who?”
He shrugs “I dunno. Mitsuya? Takemichi? A kid? Anyone.”
You raise a brow “And that helps how? It’s just like idea two…”
Chifuyu nods confidently “Trust me.”
“I don’t…”
“If Draken sees you giving food to someone else, he’ll be like, ‘Why isn’t she giving me food?’ And then—bam—he realizes he likes you.”
You let out a long exhale “So your plan is… starving Draken until he understands his feelings?”
Chifuyu blinks “…Basically, yes.”
“…wow.”
“What?”
“I thought you were smart.”
Chifuyu places a hand dramatically on his chest “I am smart!”
“Then why are your ideas so stupid?!”
He gasps “They’re not stupid. They’re creative.”
“They’re dumb.”
“They’re effective.”
“They’re DUMB.”
Chifuyu pouts like a kicked puppy, but only for a second. Then his expression softens.
“Look,” he says quietly “All jokes aside… I get it. It hurts. Seeing someone you like with someone else hurts like hell.”
You drop your gaze a little.
“But,” he continues, “Draken isn’t doing it on purpose. He’s an idiot, not evil.”
“…I know.”
“And he’s definitely not over you.” Chifuyu adds “I saw his face when he watched you leave earlier. He looked… lost.”
Your heart stutters.
“You think so?” you ask quietly.
Chifuyu nods “Yeah. And if he doesn’t get his head straight soon… I’ll kick his ass.”
You snort “Please don’t. He’s too tall for you.”
“Fine. I’ll kick his shins.” He smirks “He can’t block those.”
You laugh, small but real, the first one in days.
Chifuyu smiles too.
Then he nudges your arm lightly “No matter what, you’re not alone, okay? Don’t carry this by yourself.”
You nod softly.
And for the first time in a while… you feel like you can breathe.
The next day is Saturday, so school is closed. Still, you wake up early, because you have something to do.
Or… someone to thank.
You remember everything Chifuyu did yesterday… listening, staying with you, making you laugh even with his terrible plans. He didn’t judge you. He didn’t push you. He didn’t betray your trust.
So you prepare a small lunch box for him, and grab a manga volume you know he’s been looking for. Then you head to the place Toman usually meets on weekends.
The moment you enter, you feel dozens of eyes on you.
You sigh.
“Great,” you whisper to yourself, “middle school fangirls energy again…”
Chifuyu is the first to notice you “Y/N? What are you—?”
You hold out the food and manga to him “This is to thank you. For yesterday.”
He blinks, surprised “Seriously? This is for me?”
“Yes,” you say, smiling “You deserve it.”
Behind you, Draken sees everything.
He doesn’t get jealous. He knows Chifuyu wouldn’t cross that line with you, and not with him.
And that’s exactly why Draken’s stomach knots up.
Because if you’re going to Chifuyu instead of him… then something is really wrong.
Something he hasn’t noticed. Something he should’ve noticed.
He watches you quietly, jaw tight.
Chifuyu pulls you a little closer and whispers, “So you went with the fake boyfriend idea?”
“NO!” you yell, exhausted by his nonsense.
Chifuyu bursts out laughing, holding his stomach. Even some of the captains look over, confused.
Then he stops laughing, leans slightly, and whispers again “Anyway… he’s staring.”
You don’t need to look to know who he means.
“Everyone here stares…” you mutter “Every time I walk in here it’s like walking into a room full of middle school fangirls.”
Chifuyu snorts “Except the fangirls have tattoos and bikes.”
“Exactly.”
You straighten your bag and step back.
“I’m leaving,” you say.
“This…” you hand him another bag “…these are sweets for everyone. Give it to them.”
Chifuyu looks at the bag “For… everyone?”
“As an apology,” you say, shrugging “For making you go against Toman morals yesterday, or whatever you call that.” Your smile softens “So, thank you again.”
You wink at him in a funny friendly way and so you turn, wave at the others, including Draken, and walk out.
Behind you, the captains gather around Chifuyu like excited crows.
“You got sweets?”
“She made that for us?”
“Aww damn she’s so nice.”
“You got more than us… you lucky bastard—”
But Draken isn’t interested in the sweets. He just watches you walk away, his expression unreadable.
Something in his chest tightens painfully.
Because… you’re not looking at him. You’re not smiling at him. You’re not talking to him.
And you didn’t even come here for him.
His fingers curl into fists.
Mia’s face flashes in his mind… and suddenly it feels wrong. Stupid. Pointless.
And he realizes something he should’ve seen from the start: He’s losing you.
Not to another guy. Not even to Chifuyu.
He’s losing you because he wasn’t there when you needed him.
And now… He doesn’t know how to get you back.
Monday feels heavier than usual.
You walk through the school gates with your headphones on, determined to ignore everything, especially your own feelings. You head toward your classroom, hoping to slip in unseen, unchanged, unnoticed.
But of course… nothing goes the way you want lately.
You turn the corner and nearly bump straight into Draken.
He stands there like he’s been waiting, like he knew exactly where you’d be.
Your heart jumps, but you keep your face neutral.
“…Morning.” you mutter, stepping aside.
He opens his mouth, clearly about to say something, but before he even gets the chance…
“Draken-kun~~~~!”
Mia.
You don’t even turn toward her voice, you just close your eyes for a second, breathe out slowly, and try not to groan.
She appears beside him like a glittery shadow, grabbing his sleeve, smiling up at him like she’s the main character.
“Did you wait for me? We should walk to class toge—”
“No.” Draken says immediately, tugging his arm free.
You almost look at him for that.
Almost.
But then Mia notices you and her smile tightens “Oh. You’re here too.”
“Unfortunately…” you say, monotone “Don’t mind me.”
You start walking again. You don’t have the energy to deal with her, and honestly, you don’t want to deal with him either. If he doesn’t dislike her company, then who are you to interfere?
Behind you, Mia giggles nervously and clings to his arm again “Draken-kun, don’t go after her again. She’s been so weird lately, maybe give her some space.”
Draken pulls his arm away so sharply that even Mia stops talking. And when you glance back, his eyes are on you, not her.
They follow you with a frustration that could crack cement.
You keep walking. You’re almost at the staircase when you hear “Y/N.”
You pretend you didn’t.
“Y/N.”
You walk faster.
“Y/N!”
His voice is sharper this time, and you stop, mostly because everyone in the hallway is staring now.
Slowly, you turn around.
He’s right behind you, breathing hard like he’s been holding everything in for days. People watch the two of you with wide eyes, whispering. Even Mia freezes a few steps back, her expression uncertain.
“Why…” Draken says, jaw tight, “…are you avoiding me?”
You fold your arms “I’m not.”
“Bullshit.”
Your eyes widen slightly, Draken doesn’t snap. He doesn’t raise his voice. Not at you.
“Every time I try to talk to you,” he continues, stepping closer, “you disappear. You leave. You act like I’m not even here. Like I did something but you won’t tell me what.”
His voice isn’t angry. It’s strained. Thinner than usual. Almost… hurt.
You swallow.
Behind him, Mia looks stunned, like she never expected him to chase after anyone, let alone you.
“I—” you start.
But he cuts in.
“And yesterday,” he says, “you came to the meeting… for Chifuyu.”
People murmur at that.
Chifuyu, who is also in the hallway, flinches like he wasn’t prepared to be mentioned.
Draken’s eyes stay locked on yours.
“You waved but you didn’t even look at me.” he says quietly “Not once.”
Your lips part. You want to say something… anything, but your mind goes blank.
He steps even closer, lowering his voice so only you can hear “Just tell me what I did.”
You tense.
“I can’t fix it if you won’t talk to me,” he says “I’m not a damn mind reader.”
His words hit you harder than you expect. Because up until now, he looked calm… annoyed, maybe, or confused, but now he looks desperate.
That’s what makes you freeze, and he sees it, and something inside him finally snaps.
“Y/N…” he breathes, “just stop running away from me.”
The hallway is silent.
Even your heartbeat seems loud.
This is the first time Draken has ever raised his voice because of you. The first time he’s ever chased you. The first time he’s ever looked at you like losing you is something he genuinely fears.
And it leaves you speechless.
Because the one thing you promised yourself was to not make things complicated.
And here he is… making it impossible.
For a moment, no one moves.
The hallway is frozen, like every student simultaneously forgot how to breathe. You included.
Mia is the first to sputter back to life “D-Draken-kun… why are you— this isn’t— she’s obviously just—”
Her voice shakes, but she pushes forward anyway “You shouldn’t let her talk to you like that. I mean, she’s the one who’s been acting weird, so if she doesn’t want to talk—”
“Mia.” Draken doesn’t look at her. Doesn’t even blink in her direction.
His tone is flat and dead cold.
Every student nearby shivers like someone opened a freezer door.
She forces a laugh “I’m just saying! I mean… you don’t need to go after her. I’m right here, I—”
“I said,” Draken repeats, jaw clenching, “Mia.”
Finally, slowly, he turns his head.
You’ve never seen him look at anyone like that.
Not with anger or irritation, just complete, sharp, merciless clarity “You need to stop.”
The hallway gasps again.
Mia’s smile falters “Stop… what…?”
“Talking.”
Her face goes pale.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he continues, tone low but cutting straight through the noise “You don’t know what’s going on. And right now, you’re making it worse.”
Your breath catches.
He isn’t defending Mia.
He isn’t protecting her feelings.
He’s defending you.
In front of the whole hallway.
And Mia finally steps back.
A few students whisper…
You feel your throat tighten.
Everything is too loud and too quiet at the same time. You want to move but your legs feel rooted.
Then Draken turns back to you and the moment your eyes meet, something in his expression softens, enough that only you see it.
“Come here” he says.
Not a command but a request presented with a sense of exasperation.
You still can’t move.
So he moves instead.
He reaches out, carefully, and takes your hand. Fingers sliding between yours like he’s done it a thousand times, even though he never has.
The hallway collectively stops breathing.
Mia’s jaw drops. Chifuyu’s eyes nearly fall out of his skull but he smiles. Someone actually squeaks.
But Draken doesn’t care.
His grip is warm, steady, desperate in a way he won’t admit aloud.
“Let’s talk,” he says, voice quieter now “Not here.”
You nod before you can think.
He pulls you gently, guiding you, like he’s afraid if he lets go, you’ll bolt again.
Down the hallway. Up the stairs. And then the rooftop door squeaks open.
The cold air hits you instantly and wakes up all your nerves.
Draken lets go of your hand only when he closes the door behind you… and locks it.
You stare at him.
He runs a hand through his hair, pacing like he’s trying to untangle every knot in his brain.
And then he stops in front of you.
“For real,” he says, voice low and heavy, “just tell me why you’re avoiding me.”
Your stomach knots.
He waits.
For once, he doesn’t try to guess. Doesn’t make assumptions. Doesn’t try to fix it with some blunt sentence.
He just waits for you, but your voice doesn’t come out, so he continues.
“Every day,” he says quietly, eyes on yours, “I look for you. I wait for you. I check my phone. And you’re just… gone.”
You inhale sharply.
He steps closer.
“And you let Chifuyu help you.” There’s something almost wounded in that tone “You always come to me. Always. So what changed?”
Your heart twists.
He exhales, frustrated.
“Did I do something? Did I piss you off? Did I—” He cuts himself off. His jaw clenches. His shoulders rise with a breath he holds like he’s bracing for impact “…Did I make you feel like you’re not important to me?”
The wind stings your eyes, this is the first time you’ve ever heard his voice shake.
He runs a hand down his face.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he mutters “I don’t know how to fix something when you won’t even look at me.”
You swallow hard.
Your eyes sting again.
The weight of everything… all the days of avoidance, the lies, the jealousy, the hurt… presses on your ribs until you can barely breathe.
He notices.
His expression softens again, that same softness he hides from everyone.
“Y/N,” he says gently, stepping closer still, “I’m right here. Just tell me what I did.”
Silence.
You can feel every emotion you've buried threatening to break through your chest.
And Draken waits, eyes locked on yours, like your answer is the only thing that matters in the world right now.
You look away first, your heart is pounding everywhere, in your throat, in your ribs, in your fingertips.
“I’m fine.” you whisper.
Lie.
A weak one.
But it’s the only thing you manage to push out.
Draken’s jaw tightens “Try again.”
You swallow “I’m just busy—”
“Y/N.”
Your name sounds like a warning. Not angry… just impossible to lie to.
He steps closer. You take half a step back.
He notices.
His voice drops even lower “…Why are you moving away from me?”
Your chest aches.
You force out another lie, even though your voice cracks, “I’m not—”
“Stop.” he isn’t yelling, but his voice hits you like a punch “Just stop.”
Your breath shakes.
He takes your chin gently to guide your eyes back to his.
And you break a little more because of it.
“Look at me” he says quietly.
You do, even though it hurts.
He searches your face like he’s reading every thought you’re trying to bury.
Then he exhales, slow and frustrated “Why won’t you trust me with whatever’s going on?”
You feel the pressure in your throat, the sting behind your eyes and the fear of saying something that hurts worse.
So you go for another lie “Really, Draken, it’s nothing…”
And that’s when his calm snaps.
“Nothing?!” His voice rises, raw and sharp “You disappear. You avoid me. You act like seeing me is some kind of problem. You don’t talk. You don’t text. And you think that’s nothing?!”
The wind steals the air from your lungs.
You whisper, “It’s not your fault…”
“That doesn’t make it better!” he shoots back “Because if it’s not my fault, then what? You just don’t want me around anymore?”
You flinch and say nothing.
His voice softens instantly, his anger turning into fear “…Is that it?”
Your eyes widen “No! No, it’s not— I didn’t—”
“Then what?!” he pushes “What could possibly make you think you have to run away from me?”
You open your mouth but nothing comes out. You know you can’t lie anymore.
Your voice finally cracks “Because you didn’t need me anymore.”
His entire expression freezes.
Your breath shakes.
“You had Mia,” you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady, failing miserably “You didn’t wait for me. You didn’t come find me. You didn’t even notice I wasn’t there anymore. You just… let her take up all your time.”
Draken blinks, stunned.
“And I know it’s stupid,” you continue, wiping your eyes with your sleeve “And maybe I’m dramatic or whatever, but every time I saw her with you… every time I saw you let her talk to you, or let her touch you, or that you didn’t meet me because she stopped you—”
Your voice breaks “I felt like I didn’t matter.”
He stares at you like someone just knocked the world out from under him “…Y/N.”
You shake your head, backing up again “I didn’t want to bother you. I didn’t want to get in the way. And I didn’t want to be the clingy girl who gets jealous and ruins everything…”
“Ruins what?” Draken snaps, stepping toward you “You think you could ruin anything?”
Your throat tightens.
He continues, voice rough with disbelief, “You think you being upset is annoying to me? You think I wouldn’t choose hearing your stupid jealousy over dealing with that girl for ten minutes?!”
You blink. He’s breathing hard now.
“Why didn’t you say something?” he asks, voice dropping “Why didn’t you just tell me you felt like that?”
“Because it’s embarrassing,” you choke out “And I didn’t want you to laugh or think I’m ridiculous—”
“Have I ever laughed at you?” he says, hurt “Ever?”
You lower your gaze.
Silence.
Then he steps closer and takes both your hands in his big, warm, trembling ones.
He lifts your hands to his chest, pressing them over his heartbeat like he wants you to feel it.
“You matter to me,” he says quietly “More than anyone.”
Your breath stops.
“And it scares me that you didn’t know that.”
Your knees almost give out.
He continues before you can talk “I didn’t shut Mia down fast enough because I didn’t expect her to act like that. I didn’t ignore you on purpose. I didn’t stop waiting for you. I just… I messed up. I didn’t realize how it looked. I didn’t think you’d ever think you weren’t important to me.”
Your heart twists painfully.
“And the fact that you did think that?” his voice cracks “That hurts more than you hiding from me all this time.”
You open your mouth, but he shakes his head slightly and steps even closer, forehead almost touching yours.
“Y/N,” he breathes, “I’m angry because I care. I’m angry because you didn’t come to me. I’m angry because you thought I wouldn’t choose you.”
Your lips part.
Then he finally confesses, “I like you,” he murmurs “Way more than I should. Way more than I know how to handle. And watching you walk away from me every day felt like someone was ripping something out of my chest.”
Your eyes burn.
You whisper, “You… you like me?”
He huffs a laugh… frustrated, breathless, unfairly soft “I thought it was obvious.”
“It wasn’t!”
“Well it is now,” he mutters, cheeks slightly pink “And I’m not letting you run away again.”
He lifts one hand, wiping your cheek with his thumb.
“Your turn,” he says gently “Say it back.”
Your breath catches.
“I like you…” you whisper.
“Louder.”
“I like you, Draken.”
He closes his eyes for a second, like he needed to hear it, like he’s been waiting forever.
Then he leans his forehead against yours and whispers “Good. Because you’re stuck with me now.”
Your breath is still uneven. Your cheeks are still wet. Your heart is beating so hard you’re sure he can feel it through your joined hands.
Draken’s forehead is still resting against yours, his fingers warm on your cheek, his other hand still clutching yours like he’s terrified you’ll vanish again.
Neither of you speak.
The confession hangs between you… hot, heavy, impossible to ignore.
Then you notice the way his gaze drops.
Slowly. Almost shy. From your eyes… to your lips.
Your stomach flips so hard you almost lose balance.
He sees your reaction. His thumb brushes your cheekbone again, gentler this time, like he’s memorizing the shape of you.
“Y/N.” he murmurs.
You look up.
His voice drops even lower, like the words are almost too dangerous to say out loud “Can I…?” he doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t need to.
Your fingers tighten around his shirt.
And that tiny movement, that little pull, is all he needs.
He leans in slowly at first, giving you every second to stop him if you want to, but you don’t.
Your breath mixes with his. Your hands slide up to his chest, then to the sides of his jacket. His nose brushes yours and your eyes flutter shut and then he kisses you.
It’s not rough. Not rushed. Not anything like the Draken everyone else sees.
It’s soft. Warm. Careful in a way that makes your heart burst open.
His lips move slowly against yours, almost hesitant, like he’s afraid to hurt you or take too much. His hand cups the back of your head, steady and protective, and he pulls you in with a gentle firmness that feels like: I finally have you and I’m not losing you again.
You make a tiny sound and he reacts immediately, kissing you deeper, pulling you closer, pressing his forehead to yours between breaths.
Your hands climb up to his neck, fingers brushing the shaved side of his head, and he shivers.
“Careful…” he murmurs against your lips, voice rough, “If you do that, I won’t want to stop.”
You smile, breathless, and pull him back in.
He soft sighs into your mouth and kisses you again, slower this time, like he wants to memorise every second.
Time stops.
Only when you finally pull away for air does he open his eyes, and he looks wrecked. Good wrecked. Like one more kiss might actually kill him in the best way.
He touches your face again with both hands this time, thumbs brushing your cheeks, and he whispers “…Don’t ever walk away from me like that again.”
Your voice is soft but sure “I won’t.”
He nods slightly, forehead touching yours again.
“Good,” he exhales, like a promise, “because I’m not letting anyone else have you.”
Then he kisses you again, slower and softer, like he has all the time in the world.
Draken walks you back down the stairs, one hand still holding yours like he’s afraid you’ll fade if he lets go.
At the classroom door, he squeezes your hand once.
“I’ll be here when class ends” he says quietly.
You smile “Okay.”
He hesitates for a second, then leans in and whispers against your ear “Don’t run away again. Please.”
Your cheeks burn. You nod fast. He smirks and lets you go.
The second the bell rings, your heart jumps.
You check your hair in your phone reflection (twice), shove your books into your bag (messily), and speed-walk out the door.
Draken is right there, leaning casually against the wall, talking with Chifuyu and Takemichi.
He looks up the second he hears your steps and he softens, with a tiny, private smile only for you.
You walk toward them quietly so you don’t interrupt, but Chifuyu sees you first.
“Oh! Y/N!” he grins, waving way too dramatically “Draken told us the good news!”
You blink “The… good news?”
Takemichi nods excitedly, almost sparkling “A-Ah— congratulations! Really! I’m glad!”
Then Chifuyu throws his arm around Draken’s shoulder and announces “Now you don’t need me to pretend to be your boyfriend anymore!”
Your jaw DROPS.
Draken chokes on his own breath.
Takemichi turns red.
You punch Chifuyu’s shoulder… not softly “CHIFUYU! I never wanted that! Your ideas are stupid!”
Takemichi bursts out laughing like that was the most correct sentence he ever heard.
Even Draken is smiling… an amused, fond smile he tries to hide behind his hand.
Chifuyu rubs his shoulder “Owww! Okay okay, but you did come to me for emotional support, so I still win.”
You glare. He grins.
Then Chifuyu nudges Takemichi “Come on. Let’s give them space.”
Takemichi nods and they both walk off, whispering and giggling like middle-schoolers.
Leaving you and Draken alone.
Draken doesn’t waste a second.
He reaches for your hand gently and starts walking with you toward the gates.
“Let’s go,” he says, voice low and warm “Before someone else interrupts.”
You smile and squeeze his fingers.
But as soon as you step outside the main doors…
She’s there.
Mia.
Standing stiff, holding a notebook to her chest, eyes locked on Draken like she’s been waiting forever.
Her smile dies the moment she sees your joined hands.
“Draken-kun,” she says softly, voice trembling, “can we… talk?”
Draken stops walking.
You slowly try to pull your hand away, but he tightens his grip immediately. He won’t let go.
Mia’s eyes flick to your hands again, then she forces a small smile “I didn’t know you were… with Y/N-san. You didn’t tell me anything, so I kept thinking—”
“Mia,” Draken cuts her off, his tone is calm, but firm “We need to clear something up.”
She stiffens.
He steps a little in front of you, not to hide you, but to shield you from whatever she might say.
“I should’ve said something earlier,” he admits “But I wasn’t interested. Not in the way you thought.”
Her fingers tighten on her notebook.
“But… you always let me talk to you. You walked with me. I thought that meant—”
“I was being polite,” he says gently “Too polite, maybe. I didn’t realise I was giving you the wrong idea.”
You feel him squeeze your hand again, like he wants you to know he means every word.
Mia bites her lip “Then… why her? What does she have that I—”
“It’s not a competition,” Draken says immediately “But she’s the one I want.”
Your heart stops.
Mia’s face falls, a tiny crack in her expression, and she looks down at her shoes.
“Oh…” she whispers.
She swallows hard. Her shoulders slump.
“I didn’t know,” she says “I… I thought maybe if I tried harder, you’d see me.”
You feel a pang of sympathy, because she looks genuinely hurt, not angry.
Draken softens his tone just a bit “I’m sorry for not being clear earlier.”
Mia nods slowly “I understand.”
She bows slightly to both of you, even though her eyes are watery.
“Good luck.” she says quietly.
Then she turns and walks away.
Slow. Sad.
You watch her go, feeling strange and heavy.
Draken waits until she’s completely out of sight before he turns back to you.
He brushes his thumb over your knuckles.
“You okay?” he asks softly.
You nod. Then you whisper the truth “I’m happier than I’ve been in weeks.”
He leans in, his forehead touching yours again, voice low enough that only you can hear “Good. Because I meant it, I’m not letting you go again.”
Then he kisses your temple and pulls you closer as he walks you home.
EPILOGUE — Mikey Finds Out
Mikey is sitting on the hood of his bike, legs swinging, chewing on a dorayaki like it’s the most important task of the day.
He looks up the second Draken approaches.
“Yo. You’re late.” Mikey says with his mouth full.
Draken crosses his arms, expression somewhere between tired and strangely… peaceful “I had to talk to someone.”
Mikey narrows his eyes like this is suspicious enough to require immediate interrogation “...Who? And why does your face look like you won a fight and lost one at the same time?”
Draken sighs “I didn’t fight anyone.”
“Lame.”
A pause. Draken stares at him, then finally just says it because there’s no point dragging it out with Mikey “It’s about her.”
Mikey stops chewing.
Blink.
Blink blink.
“…Y/N? The girl you always get weird about?”
Draken turns away, rubbing his neck “I don’t ‘get weird.’”
“Bro, you literally do.” Mikey replies without hesitation.
For a moment Draken doesn’t answer. Mikey watches him carefully now, the way only someone who’s known him practically forever can.
And then Draken says it, soft but firm “She’s my girlfriend now.”
Mikey freezes. His eyes go blank like someone pulled the plug from his brain. Draken waits. Mikey continues to freeze. Draken waits more.
“…Mikey?”
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH?!?!?!?”
He explodes like a firecracker, falling off the bike hood with a loud thud. Draken’s entire soul leaves his body out of embarrassment.
“You WHAT?! WHEN?! HOW?! WHY WASN’T I INFORMED?!” Mikey shouts from the ground, arms flailing like a dramatic sea creature.
“I don’t need to announce my relationship statuses!” Draken shoots back.
“Yes you do!! I’m the leader!! That means I should be told EVERYTHING!” Mikey insists, climbing back up like he’s scaling a mountain.
Draken snorts “It literally doesn’t.”
Mikey ignores him completely, stepping uncomfortably close to peer up at his face “You like her that much?”
Draken’s chest tightens, but he nods “Yeah. I do.”
Mikey’s expression softens instantly, the switch from chaos goblin to earnest friend so abrupt it’s emotional whiplash.
“Good,” he says simply “You deserve someone who looks at you the way you look at her.”
Draken looks away, ears pink “Shut up.”
Mikey grins “Nope! Also, you need to go on a double date with Takemichi and his girl. Immediately.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Draken groans “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re in love.” Mikey sings.
But eventually he stops and nudges Draken’s arm lightly, voice warm and sincere “I’m happy for you. Really.”
Draken lets out a long breath “…Thanks, Mikey.”
Mikey smirks “Now tell me everything. Every detail. I want the whole story. Start with the rooftop. Takemichi and Chifuyu told me there was yelling.”
SYNOPSIS .ᐟ As two of the most prominent members of Toman, you weren't ever surprised when Mikey paired you and Draken together on his personal assignments. However, as Takemichi begins to realize Draken's true motivations behind constantly protecting you, you begin to wonder if he sees you as more than just a friend.
⋆ INCLUDES smut, unprotected sex, confessions of love, motorcycle riding, mentions of violence, mentions of gangs, mentions of death, creampie, kissing, mentions of a brothel, marking + hickies, reader gets a tattoo, dick twitching?
⌗ A NOTE FROM MADDIE ⸝⸝ i love draken have my babies pls
"Fucking step on it, Ken!"
Cops are everywhere. You can see them in front of you, out of the corners of your eyes—can hear the click! of their guns as they draw them.
"Ken," you whisper. "If we don't move, we're going to die."
"I know that!"
"Then drive!"
You lurch forward as the motorcycle beneath you suddenly kicks into drive, sending you and your partner forward. You gasp, reaching forward and circling your arms around Draken's waist. Men jump out of the way, panicking in the path of his Zephyr.
"That was fucking close!" you say over the wind, leaning forward against Draken to say it in his ear.
"I know!" He glances back at you, and you catch the shit-eating grin on his face.
"Fuck you, you waited that long on purpose!"
"I like when hot chicks like you cling onto me."
You pinch him. He jerks out of your grasp, sending the bike teetering. You latch onto him again in a panic, and he laughs.
You bite back a smile as he speeds up.
By the time the two of you have returned to Toman's meeting place, the Musashi Shrine, the meeting has already begun. You silently take your places flanking Mikey, looking out over the sea of black and gold before you. You see lots of familiar faces—Mitsuya and Hakkai with the Second Division, Takemichi and Chifuyu with the First, Smiley and Angry, and so on.
Mikey is giving some motivational speech about their upcoming battle. As he finishes, he turns to you. "Our Captain of the Special Operations Squadron, Y/N, will now state her opinion on facing this new powerful rival."
You step forward. "Sir. Vice President Ryuguji and I were sent early this morning to collect intelligence on this up and coming gang known as 'the Lotus'. We gathered a wealth of valuable information on them, but the most important to you all is that they play dirty. They use guns and knives, and they don't follow the rules of ethics that we as the Tokyo Manji Gang follow. While this may be true, all of us here have to remember that to fight dirty back is to stoop to their level. We will continue to fight on an even playing ground, just as Toman always has, and we will prevail."
You see Draken eye you out of the corner of your eye. You're purposefully leaving out the details you acquired on the pure bloodlust the gang portrayed. You would leave that bit to Mikey.
As the meeting adjourns, the three of you come together, with Mitsuya and Takemichi jogging up the steps to meet you.
"Takemitchy!" Mikey calls, clapping the shorter blond's back. Takemichi splutters.
"So, what did you actually find out while you were out there?" Mitsuya asks you, down to business.
"They're dangerous," Draken says. "More dangerous than Black Dragon, than Tenjiku, than any other gang we've faced. They have over five hundred members, and they hold all of Kyoto, from what we heard."
"Kyoto's fucking huge, man," Mitsuya mumbles.
"Exactly. They have the strength and means to take over a city like Kyoto. We need to make sure they don't do the same to Tokyo. Toman protects Tokyo from gangs like this," you say fiercely. "We can't let them win."
"That goes without saying." Mikey nods. "L/N. Kenny. I have another task for you."
You see Takemichi look up.
"I want you two to find as much as you can on the leader."
"That's the thing—they don't have one. It's not a Headless Angel thing, it's a they-literally-don't-have-anyone-in-charge thing."
Draken nods. "This is what makes them so dangerous. They're huge, uncoordinated, chaotic, and their only goal is to dominate."
You bite your lip, hiding your smile. "Gonna be one hell of a fight."
"Mmhm." Mikey turns away from the four of you, crossing his arms. "There's no head to take out. Each cell functions on its own." He looks up at the moon overhead, shutting his eyes. "We can't just break apart one bit and the rest will crumble. We have to destroy all of the Lotus."
You nod.
"Alright. I'll mull over strategies. For tonight, get some sleep. Meet here in the morning and we'll figure some shit out." Mikey turns back to you, eyes glittering.
The five of you say your goodbyes and start to move your separate ways. You follow Draken over to his bike, getting your bag off the back.
"I don't wanna walk all the way home," you whine, shuffling your feet.
"Stay at mine. It's not far. I can drive us."
"Won't your brothel sisters get mad?"
"Please." He rolls his eyes. "They love you. Every time you come they're talking about you pre—how nice you are."
You smile, catching his slip. "Yeah, if that's okay. Not like I have anyone waiting at home for me." You turn to get on his bike when Takemichi runs up.
"Y/N!" he calls.
You sigh. "What's up, Takemichi?"
"Can I talk to you one sec?"
You nod.
He waits a beat. "Alone?"
"Oh. Yeah. Ken, are you okay waiting one s—?"
"Yeah, take your time."
You follow Takemichi a little bit away, turning to face him. "What is it?"
He wrings his hands together, looking down.
"Spit it out, Hanagaki."
"It's Draken! I just thought you should know." He looks at you. "He's in love with you."
You choke. "What? How do you know?"
"I just know, okay? You don't date a girl like Hina and not know."
You scoff. "Be for real, Hanagaki."
"Haven't you noticed? How you always end up next to him in fights, how he lets you stay over all the time when he doesn't let anyone else go over, how you two always get paired together? Draken is in love with you, and Mikey is his wingman!"
You pause for a moment. "So what does that make you?"
"Your wingman . . . ?"
You laugh. "You're fuckin' funny, Hanagaki. Thanks for the laugh." You turn to walk away, waving as you climb onto Draken's bike. "See you tomorrow!"
As you ride on the back of Draken's motorcycle, you can't help but replay Takemichi's words in your mind over and over. He's in love with you. You shake it off. Like Draken could ever be in love with anyone. Besides, even if he was, it would be Emma . . . right?
The more you think about it, the more it makes sense. You're the only person—in or out of Toman—that has ever stayed the night at Draken's place, and one of three that he had ever brought there. He was always looking out for you, always making sure you were alright and helping bandage you up after fights. But that's what any good Vice Leader would do for his Commander of Special Operations.
Then why were you here? In his bed, watching him tug off his sweater and slip under the sheets beside you.
"Sorry we have to share," he says softly, voice gritty and low in the dark bedroom. He's looking up at the ceiling, and you mirror him.
"It's okay. I don't mind."
The two of you are silent for a little bit. You're acutely aware of your state of undress-only your panties and a spare lace slip on one of the women who worked at the brothel had lent you for the night so that you didn't have to sleep in your Toman uniform.
Then, you feel him roll over to look at you. "What did you and Takemitchy talk about?"
You swallow. "Nothing really. You know, one of his stupid conspiracies."
"About what? I heard him say my name."
You wince internally. Now you had to tell him. "He wanted to fuck with me, so he tried to convince me that you were in love with me."
A few seconds pass. "Well fuck, I wanted to tell you that myself."
You turn your head sharply to look at him. "Don't fuck around right now."
"Why would I fuck around?"
"Fuck you."
"Well fuck you too." His eyes soften a little. "Why do you think you're here, Y/N? Obviously I care about you. You'd have to be stupid not to know. I've felt it for a while now, I just . . . I mean, you know how I am about mushy stuff."
"Yeah, you suck at it."
"Y/N?"
"Yeah?"
"I want you to get a tattoo like mine."
You blink at him slowly, the words landing in your chest like something heavy and warm.
“A tattoo… like yours?” you echo, eyes flickering over the dragon on the side of us head.
Draken’s eyes flick down to your shoulder, the one all but bare under the thin lace slip. His voice drops even lower, almost embarrassed, almost reverent.
“Yeah. Something that marks you. Matches me.”
A beat.
“That’s what people who matter to each other do.”
Your breath catches. You push yourself up on your elbow so you can actually see him in the dim light leaking through his curtains. His hair is loose around his face, shadows carving along his jawline, and suddenly he looks so much less like Vice President Ryuguji "Draken" Ken and so much more like just… Ken. The boy who always put himself between you and danger. The man who pretended he wasn’t watching over you in fights when he absolutely was. The idiot who let you steal his hoodies and never demanded them back.
“Ken,” you whisper, the name tasting different on your tongue now.
“What does that even mean?”
He huffs a breath that isn’t quite a laugh. “It means I want you with me. Not just as my partner in Toman.” His eyes search yours. “I want you.”
The room feels too small. The air too warm. Your pulse thunders against your skin.
You swallow hard. “Then why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Because,” he says, shifting closer, “you deserve someone who knows how to say this shit right. Someone who doesn’t scare you off.” Another inch closer. His fingers brush yours under the blanket—tentative, but deliberate. “But then Takemitchy opened his big mouth, and—”
You interrupt him with a shaky laugh. “Outed you?”
Ken’s lips curve, soft and unguarded. “So now you know.”
Silence settles, thick and electric. Your fingers turn, sliding against his until they hook between his knuckles. He watches that tiny movement like it’s the most important thing in the world.
“Ken…” you murmur, “you’re not scaring me off.”
Something shifts in his expression—relief, hunger, affection, all at once. He sits up a little, his hand rising hesitantly toward your cheek, waiting to see if you’ll pull away.
You don’t.
His palm cups your face, thumb grazing your cheekbone. The touch is warm. Careful. A kind of intimacy he’s never shown, even after all the nights you’d crashed here after missions.
“You’re sure?” he asks, voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it.
You nod once, slow, deliberate. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
He exhales shakily, like he’s been holding that breath for months.
Then he leans in.
Not rushed. Not cocky. A gentle press of his forehead to yours, the heat of him seeping into your skin. You feel his breath mix with yours, the faint scent of smoke and soap and something uniquely him wrapping around you.
Your fingers curl into the fabric of his sheets. His other hand slides to the back of your neck, warm and steady, guiding you closer—
Your lips brush. Feather-light. Testing.
The second touch is firmer. More certain. His mouth moves against yours slowly at first, like he’s memorizing you. Then deeper, like he’s been starving for this. You breathe him in, your hand rising instinctively to his chest, feeling the heartbeat hammering beneath your palm.
He shifts, gently urging you beneath him, blankets rustling around your legs. The lace of your slip slides against his skin, and his breath hitches when he feels it.
“Y/N…” he whispers against your mouth, voice rough with emotion, “tell me if you want me to stop.”
You shake your head, pulling him down to you, feeling his weight, his warmth, everything you’d denied wanting until now. His lips trail along your jaw, down your throat, slow and reverent, leaving sparks along your skin.
His hand traces your side, stopping just at the curve of your waist—firm, but waiting for your permission.
You arch toward him in answer.
He lets out a low, restrained sound—one that tells you exactly how long he’s been holding back.
The night deepens around you. The curtains sway. The world outside disappears entirely as he presses another kiss to your collarbone, softer, slower, like a promise.
Ken's breath is warm against your throat, each exhale sending a shiver racing down your spine. His fingers tighten around your waist, not dragging you closer, but holding you there like he’s afraid you might disappear.
Your hand slips up the back of his neck, into his hair, tugging gently. He lets out a low sound—half a sigh, half something you’ve never heard from him before—and lifts his head just enough to look at you.
His forehead touches yours again. His lips are kiss-bruised, eyes dark and soft in the dim room.
“Y/N…” he murmurs. “You’re really sure?”
You nod, and your nose brushes his. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
That’s all it takes.
He kisses you again—slower than before, deeper than before. Like he’s savoring you, learning the shape of your mouth. One of his hands slips up your side, fingers skimming the thin strap of the lace slip, tracing the line where it meets your skin.
You feel his breath stutter when you tilt your hips slightly to meet him. The way it affects him makes heat bloom in your chest.
He leans over you more fully, weight sinking into one arm so he doesn’t crush you, but close enough that you can feel the steady, pounding rhythm of his heartbeat. It syncs with your own, loud in the quiet room.
“You don’t know what you do to me,” he says against your lips, voice rough.
You smile—small and breathless. “Maybe I do.”
His thumb brushes your lower lip, slow, almost reverent. “You’re dangerous.”
“Says the Vice President of Toman.”
His laugh is low and warm. He kisses you again—longer this time, lingering, stealing the air from your lungs. When he pulls back, his forehead rests in the crook of your neck, lips ghosting over your collarbone like he’s memorizing every inch he’s allowed to touch.
Your hands slide down his back, pulling him closer by instinct alone. He inhales sharply, the muscles under your fingertips tightening.
“Y/N…” Your name comes out like a confession, like he’s letting it fall from somewhere deep.
He shifts, his nose brushing your shoulder, his lips following the path down the curve of it. Not rushed. Not hungry. Just… tender. Deliberate.
His fingers trace your hip, pausing at the edge of your slip as if asking a question without words.
You answer by guiding his hand up a little higher, your palm covering his to show him where you want him, letting him tug the slip up and over your head, leaving you in only your panties.
His breath shudders, and his mouth finds yours again, this time with a kind of quiet urgency, like he’s been waiting too long for this and still can’t believe it’s real.
The room feels too warm. His body feels too good against yours. Every movement is slow, careful, charged—like the moment before a lightning strike.
And when he whispers—barely audible, lips brushing your ear—“Tell me what you want…”—you know you’ve crossed into something you can’t take back.
Something neither of you wants to take back.
"You," you whisper. "Need you."
One hand has come down to cup your breast, squeezing them together and watching in fascination. "Beautiful."
You lean up, pressing a featherlight kiss to his muscular shoulder. "Pants," you mumble against his skin.
"You want them off?"
"Mhm."
He pulls away, just enough to wriggle out of his pajama bottoms. You giggle, watching him squirm.
"Don't laugh at me!" he huffs, but he's smiling too. "I'm trying to be sexy."
"You're so fucking sexy," you laugh, hand wrapping around the back of his neck to tug him closer.
He presses you back into the sheets, humming contentedly. He sits up to look at you. "I can't believe you're here right now." His eyes rake down your body, taking in everything. "Can I take these off, sweetheart?" One index finger slips under the lace of your panties, eyes on yours. You nod, and he's tugging them down without a second thought.
He gives you a look, biting his lip to keep from smiling. "You shaved? Were you expecting this?"
"I like to be prepared."
"I'd love it either way, but you have the prettiest fucking cunt."
You feel a blush crawl over your cheeks at his crass language. "Now you."
You shift under him, leaning up to hook your fingers under the band of his Calvin Kleins. You can see the outline of his cock through the dark material, twitching and straining.
"Is your dick moving on its own?" You're half joking, half not.
"See what you do to me?" he asks, voice low and breathy.
You finally tug down his boxers, and he slides them off the rest of the way, gently pressing you back down against the pillows.
"You're warm," you whisper.
"You're cold." His hands run up and down your sides, and you shift your hips beneath him, shivering.
"Then warm me up."
He leans down, supporting his weight on either side of your head and covering your body with his. "I'm not gonna prep you baby. I want this to be real, and raw, and—"
"Will you just be gentle?"
You see him pause, looking at you. "I'll be gentle."
Slowly, he's entering you. A little at a time, stretching and filling you deliciously. You wince every time his hips stutter, and he apologizes softly. "Trying to control myself."
When he's finally bottomed out, you stay connected for a moment. You're already trembling, taking shaky breaths.
"You okay?" Ken asks quietly.
You nod. "You can move."
He does, slowly, mouth moving down to suck on your neck. You can feel him marking you, and he knows everyone will see the next day, but you don't care. All that you care about is Ken, and his mouth on you and the feeling of his tip dragging against your walls as he gently thrusts in and out.
He's reverent, one hand moving to the back of your head to tip you up, pulling you impossibly closer. He's moving faster and faster, and though he had self control, it was very quickly evaporating from his body as your cunt squeezes tighter and tighter.
You're both chasing your highs, moaning breathlessly. He holds you close in a bruising grip, and you let your nails drag down the muscles of his back.
"Ken—" you gasp.
"I know," he groans. "Me too. Cum with me. Please."
A few more thrusts and you're coming undone at the same time. You're shaking, clinging to Ken. He stays frozen, holding you tight and catching his breath.
"I love you." You say it before you know what you've said, the words falling from your mouth like you've said them thousands of times before.
He pulls away, looking down at you with lidded eyes. "I love you too." There's no hesitation in his words, only strong conviction.
"I'll get us a washcloth," he mumbles, pulling out carefully and rolling over to lie beside you, your naked bodies tangled together. "Just give me a minute."
He never did end up getting that wash cloth.
The sunlight is sharp against the Musashi Shrine as you and Ken ride in together. The early morning air is crisp, but neither of you speak much on the way—just the hum of the bike beneath you, and the quiet satisfaction of having inked something permanent onto your skin, marking the bond between you.
Ken notices your gaze flicking to your shoulder, tracing the new dragon tattoo as though confirming it’s real. His hand brushes yours absentmindedly, tight enough to remind you he’s there.
When you arrive, the courtyard is already buzzing with members. Mikey, flanked by Mitsuya and Takemichi, greets you with that same easy grin—but something in his eyes makes your stomach knot.
“Morning, L/N. Kenny.” Mikey’s tone is flat. Too flat.
“Morning, Mikey,” you reply cautiously, Ken standing slightly in front of you, protective yet relaxed.
Takemichi jogs up, bouncing on his heels like he’s trying to keep the nervous energy at bay. “Y/N! Draken! You guys . . . how’s it—uh . . . woah, your tattoo looks sick.”
You smirk, running your fingers over the design on your shoulder, identical to Ken's. “Thanks.”
Ken rolls his eyes but grins. “Yeah, glad you approve, Takemitchy.”
Mitsuya clears his throat, stepping closer. “We need everyone in the meeting area. Mikey has something to announce.”
The murmurs die down as Toman members gather in the shrine courtyard. Mikey steps forward, hands clasped behind his back, eyes scanning the group. There’s a sharpness to his posture that makes even the most seasoned members straighten instinctively.
“I have news,” Mikey begins. “The Lotus has officially declared war on the Tokyo Manji Gang.”
A collective intake of breath ripples through the crowd.
“What?” Mitsuya exclaims, voice sharp. “Already?”
“They’re serious,” Mikey says, eyes darkening. “We’ve intercepted multiple messages, and multiple attacks have already begun around the city. They’re not just testing us—they’re trying to take Tokyo. And they’re bringing everything they’ve got.”
Ken’s jaw tightens, and his hand brushes yours once before he clenches it into a fist. “Five hundred members,” he mutters under his breath. “They’ll come at us all at once if we don’t prepare.”
You step forward, heart hammering, not from fear—but from the sheer gravity of what you’ve uncovered yesterday with Ken. “Toman protects Tokyo,” you say, voice steady. “They might be chaotic, but we know their moves. They think they can intimidate us with numbers . . . but Toman fights with more than strength. We fight with trust, skill, and strategy. We’ll make sure they regret this.”
Mikey’s expression softens slightly, though the tension in his shoulders remains. “That’s why you two were sent ahead yesterday. Y/N, Kenny—you saw firsthand what they’re capable of.”
“We did,” Ken confirms. His tone is sharp, commanding. “They don’t follow rules. They use guns, knives, anything to win. But they also have weaknesses. Spread too thin. Disorganized cells. If we play smart, we can hit where it hurts and protect the city.”
Mikey nods grimly. “We have to dismantle the Lotus entirely—no mistakes.”
A hush falls over the crowd. You glance at Ken; his eyes are dark, determined. The dragon inked onto your shoulder feels like a talisman, a reminder of what you now share—not just with him, but the mission at hand.
Mikey steps closer, voice dropping slightly. “We’ll be mobilizing tonight. Everyone, stay alert. Make sure your squads are ready. Y/N, Ken—you’ll take the lead on scouting and striking first. We can’t afford hesitation. Lotus will test us at every turn.”
Ken nods, glancing down at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before softening just enough. “We’ve got this,” he says quietly. “Together.”
You smile, feeling the same surge of resolve you always do when fighting alongside him. “Together,” you echo.
The meeting breaks, members scattering to prepare, but you linger just a moment longer, feeling Ken’s hand find yours again. The warmth is grounding in the chaos.
“Looks like our tattooed bond is going to get tested sooner than we thought,” you murmur, letting a small, defiant smile tug at your lips.
Ken grins, dark and sharp, eyes glinting with that dangerous, protective spark. “Good. I like a challenge.”
And as you both walk back toward the bikes, shoulder to shoulder, you realize that the war isn’t just about Tokyo—it’s about everything you’ve built together, everything you’ve marked into skin and memory.
And you’re not running from it. Not now. Not ever.
𝐊𝐄𝐍 “𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍” 𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐉𝐈 word count :: ( 10,924 ) genre :: fluffyyy, romance, pinch angst content contains :: emma and drakens situationship, takemichi’s wedding!! no we are NOT (technically) home-wrecking !!
(..◜ᴗ◝..)
the soft clang of metal echoed in the empty garage as draken leaned over the frame of a half-built bike, grease staining the curve of his wrist. it was quiet, save for the faint hiss of cooling metal and the low hum of a fan in the corner. the kind of quiet that made you think too much.
he reached for his phone without meaning to — just muscle memory by now. his fingers hovered over the screen, slow, hesitant, like they already knew what he was about to do.
emma sano.
still saved in his contacts, like she’d never left.
they hadn’t defined anything. not lately. just… late-night conversations when one of them couldn’t sleep. coffee in silence that still felt warmer than most things. accidental hand brushes that neither of them pulled away from.
draken had told himself he was fine with it. that it was enough.
but takemichi’s wedding was this weekend. and standing in a crowd of familiar faces, watching two people say forever, that felt like the kind of moment you either show up with someone you care about — or you don’t show up at all.
he exhaled through his nose and typed, thumb gliding over the screen with more weight than he’d ever admit:
“you free saturday? takemichi’s wedding. thought it might be nice to go together.”
he stared at the message.
then pressed send before he could talk himself out of it.
the screen stayed bright for a few seconds. no reply. no read receipt. nothing but that tiny, uncertain silence.
he pocketed the phone, wiped his hands off on a rag, and tried to tell himself he didn’t care either way.
he wasn’t very convincing.
(..◜ᴗ◝..)
emma was sitting on the floor of hinata’s bedroom, surrounded by bobby pins, an open makeup bag, and a half-eaten bowl of instant ramen. wedding planning had slowly taken over hinata’s apartment — shoes lined up under the window, garment bags everywhere, florals taped to the fridge.
hinata sat across from her on the floor, still in sweats, scrolling through a seating chart on her ipad. her hair was clipped up in a messy bun, and her face looked exhausted but happy — the way only brides-to-be looked.
emma’s phone buzzed once.
she picked it up without thinking, brushing a noodle off her hoodie. the message lit up the screen:
ken:
“you free saturday? takemichi’s wedding. thought it might be nice to go together.”
she stared at it.
her lips parted, but no sound came out. her thumb hovered, heart fluttering in a way it hadn’t in a long time. not since him.
he asked.
he actually asked.
a smile crept up before she could stop it. it bloomed slowly, softly — the kind of smile that lived in her eyes, not just her mouth.
she typed:
“i’d love to.”
then she let out a sharp little breath and looked up.
“hinata?”
hinata glanced up from her phone. “hm?”
“i need a dress.”
“you don’t have a dress for the rehearsal dinner?”
“no,” emma said, her smile turning sheepish. “not for that. i need a dress for your wedding.”
hinata blinked. “emma. you’re already invited.”
“i know. but… ken just asked me to go. with him.”
hinata’s eyes widened, mouth falling open. “wait—as a date?”
emma nodded, the tiniest bit flustered. “i think so? i don’t know. maybe. but… it felt different. it felt like he meant it.”
hinata squealed, nearly knocking over the ipad. “okay. okay. we’re finding you something gorgeous. like dangerous levels of gorgeous.”
emma grinned, cheeks warm. “i want something that says… ‘i might be over you, but not really.’”
“say less,” hinata said, already reaching for her laptop. “black or red?”
(..◜ᴗ◝..)
the sun was starting to set when emma stepped out of her room, heels on the hardwood floors, smoothing her hands nervously over the silk clinging to her sides.
the dress was deep red — soft and almost impossibly fluid, the way it caught the light and draped against her like it had been sewn just for her. spaghetti straps. low back. a slit that threatened mischief but kept it elegant. she had twisted her hair up into something loose and effortless, a few strands falling around her face in soft waves.
it was a little bold. a little risky.
but tonight felt like a moment that needed something brave.
she took a shaky breath and turned toward the door the second she heard the knock.
when she opened it, there was ken — standing in a dark charcoal suit, a single black ring on his finger, his hair pushed back but still messy at the edges. he looked freshly shaven, like he’d tried without trying. his tie was half loose like he couldn’t be bothered to do the final knot.
he blinked when he saw her. just stood there.
his mouth parted like he was about to say something — anything — but the words got caught somewhere in his throat. his eyes dragged from her heels all the way to the dip in her collarbone and then to her eyes, lingering there like he didn’t want to blink and miss it.
emma smiled softly, cheeks warming under his gaze.
“hi,” she said.
“…hey,” he finally breathed.
she stepped aside to let him in. he hesitated just a second before walking past her, his shoulder brushing hers lightly as he moved inside.
“you look…” he started, glancing over his shoulder, eyes lingering again.
“yeah?” she teased, heart hammering.
he nodded once. slowly. “like trouble.”
she laughed. “good.”
he stood in her apartment — clean and quiet, soft lamplight casting shadows on the walls — and watched her reach for her purse.
and just as she was slipping on her earrings, her phone started to ring.
emma froze.
the name on the screen made her heart drop to her stomach.
she picked it up, voice uncertain. “hello?”
draken watched her face carefully. her smile disappeared, but her brows pulled together in that way she always did when she was trying to calculate something fast.
“wait, now?” she asked, turning toward the kitchen counter, pressing the phone between her shoulder and ear as she reached for her glass of water. “like, right now?”
a pause. her eyes darted toward him.
draken didn’t say anything.
she didn’t either.
just a look — long and quiet.
she wasn’t sure what she was asking for in that second.
permission? forgiveness?
he met her eyes and, without blinking, gave her the smallest nod.
go.
emma’s breath hitched, and she whispered something into the phone — she would be there. she could make it. she’d be there soon.
as soon as the call ended, she stood there for a beat, her chest rising and falling with something that wasn’t quite regret but wasn’t peace either.
“i’m so sorry,” she said quietly.
“don’t be,” he replied, voice calm. unreadable. maybe even proud.
she gave him a quick, fleeting smile — the kind you give someone who matters. someone who understands.
and then she ran.
into her room. heels off. hair falling down. fingers already undoing the zipper of her dress as she vanished behind the door.
draken stood alone in her living room, glancing once at the place where she’d just been.
when he stepped outside, mikey was already waiting near the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, dressed in a sharp black suit like some rebellious little prince.
“where’s emma?” mikey asked, swinging his head up casually.
draken didn’t look back at the building.
“work,” he said simply.
mikey didn’t press. just nodded and fell into step beside him.
and together, they walked toward the wedding.
toward something quieter. something that didn’t quite feel like loss… but didn’t feel like having her, either.
(..◜ᴗ◝..)
the ceremony had been beautiful — all soft pink florals and string lights woven through the rafters, vows that made even the toughest guys clear their throats a little too often. takemichi had cried. hinata had tried not to. everyone smiled through it.
now, the reception was in full swing.
music drifted through the venue — not too loud, just enough for the bass to ripple through the floor. glasses clinked, heels clicked against hardwood, and somewhere near the back, someone was definitely crying over the open bar.
draken stood near the edge of the room, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, a barely touched drink in hand. mikey leaned beside him, tie undone completely, hair slightly windswept from one too many fast spins with the bride on the dance floor.
they stood in companionable silence for a while, watching the people they used to ride into fights with now slow dancing and laughing like they’d never broken bones before.
“you okay?” mikey asked, not looking directly at him.
draken gave a quiet shrug. “yeah.”
mikey turned just a little. “emma?”
draken let out a breath. not quite a sigh. “she got a call. job thing. had to go.”
mikey nodded like he already knew.
“you still want it to work with her?” he asked.
draken took a long sip of whatever was in his glass before answering. “i don’t know, man. i think maybe it’s time to stop waiting.”
mikey raised a brow, clearly surprised. “you? giving up?”
“not giving up,” draken said, voice low, calm. “just… maybe i’m not meant for it. relationships. love. all that.”
mikey stared at him. “you’re not serious.”
“i am.”
“you’re gonna die old and cranky in your garage with a half-finished bike and nobody to nag you about leaving your tools everywhere?”
draken smirked. “sounds peaceful, honestly.”
but then — before mikey could push back — something shifted in the air. like the volume of the world turned down just a little. like something tugged his focus.
draken’s eyes drifted across the room.
and then he saw her.
you.
you were standing just beneath one of the overhead lights, laughing at something one of your friends said. your hand wrapped around a drink, your other gesturing mid-story. you were in a dress that wasn’t trying too hard, but the way it moved with you made it impossible not to look.
you hadn’t noticed him yet.
he took you in slowly — the way you tilted your head when you smiled, the faint line of worry in your brows when you were listening, the way you touched people gently on the arm when you spoke to them. like you meant it.
and then — as if something in the universe cracked just slightly — you looked up.
your eyes met his.
you didn’t falter. didn’t look away or shy from the weight of his stare.
you just… smiled.
slow. genuine. a little surprised, like you hadn’t expected him either, but now that he was here — maybe you weren’t in such a rush to leave.
mikey glanced over and caught the look. his smirk was immediate.
“yeah,” he said, “real peaceful.”
draken didn’t answer.
he couldn’t.
not when you were still looking at him like that.
draken didn’t move right away.
he stood there for a few moments longer, glass warm in his hand, pretending he hadn’t just felt that strange, low pull in his chest. it had been a long time since someone had looked at him like that — calm. curious. completely unbothered by the rough edges.
then, quietly, he started toward you.
you were leaning against a table near the edge of the dance floor, laughing with someone before they walked off to grab another drink. you spotted him the second he started walking over, and instead of freezing up or acting coy, you just grinned — like you were amused by the idea of it.
he stopped just a few feet away, one hand casually shoved in his pocket.
“so,” you said, arms crossed lightly, “are you here to ask me to dance?”
he looked past you at the people swaying under the lights, then back to you. “absolutely not.”
you laughed. “good. because i only dance when i’ve had at least three glasses of champagne or when there’s a serious cash prize involved.”
“you missed the cash prize round,” he said, deadpan.
you snapped your fingers. “damn. i was gonna bust out my interpretive worm.”
he couldn’t help it — he laughed. a real, low laugh, the kind that surprised even him.
you gestured to the empty chair beside you. “well, if you’re not gonna embarrass yourself on the dance floor, you might as well sit.”
he did. the chair creaked a little under his weight, and for a second, the music filled the space between you.
“so,” he asked, “you here alone?”
you took a slow sip from your glass. “define ‘alone.’ emotionally? romantically? physically?”
he smirked. “romantically.”
“yes,” you said. “i came with expectations and left them somewhere near the chicken skewers.”
he raised a brow. “tough date?”
you shrugged. “no date. just me. i figured if i was gonna cry at a wedding, i might as well look hot doing it.”
he leaned back in his chair a little. “bold move.”
“and you?” you asked. “you strike me as the type who claims he hates weddings, but still shows up looking like a half-unbuttoned heartbreak.”
he snorted. “i came with someone. she got called into work.”
you winced. “ouch.”
“yeah.”
“so, you planning to find a replacement?”
he looked at you, eyes narrowing with amusement. “why? volunteering?”
“absolutely not,” you said, smiling as you leaned your elbow on the table, chin in hand. “i mean, look at you. tattoos, slicked-back hair, that whole brooding ‘i fix motorcycles but can’t fix myself’ vibe. i definitely know better.”
his grin curled up on one side. “i wasn’t gonna ask you to come home with me.”
you lifted your glass to him in mock salute. “good. because i definitely wasn’t going to.”
“your loss,” he muttered into his drink.
you both laughed again, easy and unexpected.
then, after a pause, you tilted your head. “you know what?”
“what?”
“let’s not ruin this.”
he raised a brow. “this?”
“this,” you echoed. “this whole thing. the vibe. the not-knowing. let’s not turn it into something heavy.”
he looked at you, intrigued now.
“let’s give each other fake names,” you said. “no contact info. no social media. no ‘call me sometime.’ just tonight.”
“fake names,” he repeated, amused. “alright. what’s yours?”
you glanced up, scanning the room for anything you could steal a name from — and then, suddenly, it came to you. you looked back at him and smiled.
“sundrop.”
“…sundrop?”
you shrugged. “don’t question it. it’s got personality.”
he chuckled. “alright, sundrop.”
“and you?”
he thought about it for a second, then leaned in a little and said, “dragon.”
you stared. “seriously?”
“you picked a flower. i’m picking a beast. balance.”
you laughed, louder this time — a soft, rolling sound that made his eyes warm.
“fine, dragon,” you said. “let’s make a deal. we don’t know each other after tonight.”
“no numbers?”
“nope.”
“no goodbyes?”
“just one night. and we leave it at that.”
he clinked his glass against yours. “deal.”
and for a moment, under the fading lights of someone else’s forever, two strangers decided to exist only in the present.
no past.
no future.
just here.
just now.
the clink of your glasses still hung in the air when you leaned back in your seat, eyes bright with mischief, that sundrop smile still lingering on your lips.
“so,” you said, “what now?”
“we enjoy the night,” he replied, stretching out his legs a little. “eat, drink, mock slow dancers.”
you opened your mouth to agree, but—
“yo, draken!”
you both turned at the same time.
mikey was weaving through the tables, a plate already in his hand, the tiniest smear of red bean paste at the corner of his mouth. his suit jacket was long gone, sleeves rolled to the elbows, tie missing entirely.
“they just put out the dorayaki,” he grinned, waving the plate like it was a holy relic. “you better hurry or i’m eating yours too, draken. i swear—draken—draken, they’re still warm, bro!”
and just like that, he disappeared again into the crowd of dessert-loving guests.
you turned back to the man beside you slowly, your eyes narrowed and your smile threatening to break. “…draken?”
he held your gaze, his mouth twitching with guilt and amusement. “yep.”
“as in… your actual name is draken?”
he shrugged, palms up in surrender. “nickname, technically.”
“mikey blew your cover fast.”
“he really did.”
you tilted your head, teasing. “so what’s the damage? how much did he ruin our sacred no-names pact?”
“just the top half.”
“well, in the spirit of fairness…” you extended your hand as if meeting him for the first time. “i’m y/n.”
he shook your hand gently, still grinning. “nice to meet you, y/n.”
you nodded. “but no last names.”
“agreed.”
“i mean it,” you warned, eyes narrowed.
“same,” he said, still holding your hand for a beat too long.
you stared at each other — the champagne buzz softening the room around you, the music playing like it had been written to soundtrack this exact conversation.
“alright,” you said finally, “we adjust the rules. first names allowed. everything else? off limits.”
he smirked. “no childhood trauma dumps?”
“not unless you bring snacks.”
he chuckled, sitting back again. “deal.”
and just like that, even with names known, the moment held its magic — two almost-strangers choosing, very deliberately, to stay right here.
the band had just started a cover of something slow and vintage when you nudged draken with your elbow.
“alright,” you said, voice playful. “show me your moves.”
he glanced at you, brow raised. “moves?”
“you know,” you grinned. “how you get the girl.”
he leaned back in his chair, a slow smirk pulling at his mouth. “you asking for a demonstration?”
“i’m asking for entertainment,” you teased. “don’t tell me you’ve got nothing in your arsenal.”
he held your gaze for a beat longer, then stood up without a word. you watched as he walked straight toward the bar, that same slow, confident swagger in every step, like the world never rushed him.
he came back with a full bottle of wine under one arm and two elegant glasses swinging lazily from his fingers.
he held them up. “step one: wine.”
you laughed, standing to meet him. “classic. not bad. smooth, but safe.”
“don’t underestimate the basics,” he said, pouring two glasses like he’d done this a thousand times — and somehow made it look new.
as you took your first sip, your eyes flicked to the head table.
“you know…” you said slowly, glancing toward the bouquet resting near hinata’s seat, “we should really do the single ladies a favor.”
“how’s that?”
“we steal the bouquet,” you said with a smirk. “save them the humiliation of diving for it.”
he looked over at the head table, then at you. “you’re dangerous.”
“no,” you said, sipping your wine, “i’m fun.”
he chuckled and glanced around the room, eyes scanning for opportunity.
then he turned back to you and gave the smallest nod — “watch this.”
he stepped forward, lifted one of the wine glasses, and gently tapped the rim with his ring.
ting ting ting
“kiss! kiss! kiss!” he chanted.
you joined in, grinning. “kiss! kiss! kiss!”
within seconds, the room caught on. laughter burst out across the tables as everyone turned toward the blushing couple. takemichi looked panicked; hinata rolled her eyes affectionately and kissed him as guests whooped and clapped around them.
every head turned.
“now,” you whispered, already slipping off your heels.
you moved in sync — draken swept the bouquet under his arm with the ease of someone who’d done far riskier things in his past, and you ducked behind him as the two of you bolted down a hallway, hidden by applause and chaos.
your laughter echoed quietly in the corridor as he pushed open an unmarked door and motioned you inside.
the room was warm and still — an empty space left untouched by the reception. a grand piano sat in one corner, glossy under the soft spill of moonlight through tall, arched windows. velvet curtains swayed gently as the air shifted.
you leaned against the door, breathless. “i can’t believe that worked.”
he held up the bouquet like a prize. “still got it.”
“not bad, dragon,” you said, crossing the room barefoot as your dress swept the floor. “you’ve got moves after all.”
“just getting started,” he muttered, half to himself.
you turned to him, eyes glinting. “well then… impress me.”
he stepped closer, the wine bottle still in his hand, eyes never leaving yours.
and just like that, the game shifted.
not louder. not flashier.
but real. subtle.
the kind of move you don’t even realize is happening until your heart skips.
draken wandered over to the piano, running his fingers across the keys like he wasn’t sure if he should — and then, with a quiet smirk, he sat down and started to play.
the sound that came out wasn’t soft or romantic.
nope.
it was funky.
bouncy.
ridiculous.
you blinked once, then laughed — not because it was bad, but because it was so good and so completely unexpected from a guy like him. it sounded like something you’d hear in a 70s spy movie montage — dramatic flourishes, syncopated rhythm, total chaos.
you looked at him.
he nodded at the empty space in front of the piano bench. “your move, sundrop.”
you raised your brows. “oh, we’re doing this?”
he kept playing, clearly unbothered. “better make it count.”
you stepped into the light with the dramatic flair of someone who knew full well they had no clue what they were doing — which, to be fair, was the point.
you started with a cha-cha that somehow turned into finger guns, threw in a painfully awkward body roll, then added a full spin that almost tripped you off your feet — but you landed it with confidence like it had all been on purpose. your finale? a full-on jazz hands explosion in his face.
“ta-da!” you declared, out of breath and fully committed.
draken’s fingers stumbled on the last chord as he burst out laughing.
“wow,” he said, deadpan through a grin. “i mean… that was something.”
you put a hand on your chest. “be honest. life-changing?”
“you just invented four new dance styles and a lawsuit.”
you laughed as you flopped down next to him on the piano bench, cheeks warm and smile wide. your thighs barely touched, just a few inches of space between you and the wine bottle still rolling gently on the floor nearby.
“okay,” you admitted, catching your breath, “i have no idea how to dance.”
he turned to you slowly, brow raised. “you don’t say.”
“not even a little bit.”
“you really fooled me back there,” he said, eyes mock-wide with awe. “the part where you almost broke your ankle? inspired.”
you snorted, leaning slightly against the piano as you both laughed again — the kind of laughter that came easy and unfiltered, the kind that stayed behind in the corners of your mouth even when the moment passed.
outside, the music of the wedding pulsed faintly. but here — in this quiet little room, in a stolen piece of the night — it was just you and him.
and the tiniest, growing feeling that maybe this wasn’t just fun.
maybe this was starting to matter.
you were still catching your breath from laughing, curled sideways on the bench beside him, your knee almost brushing his. the glow from the moonlight softened the edges of everything — your hair, the curve of his shoulders, the space between you.
he glanced at you, eyes glinting. “you know, it’s kind of a shame.”
you turned your head, playful. “what is?”
“that you’re not getting some tonight.”
your jaw dropped, mock offended. “excuse me?”
he shrugged, lips curling. “just saying. a woman steals a bouquet, does jazz hands in heels, risks arrest… seems like she should get rewarded.”
you laughed, shaking your head. “i could get some tonight.”
his brow lifted. “oh?”
you leaned in slightly, eyes narrowing like you were making a point — like this was evidence in your favor. “you’re a guy.”
“correct,” he said, unblinking.
“you’re here.”
“still tracking.”
“you’re a guy i could get some from if i wanted to.”
he didn’t miss a beat. “absolutely.”
you broke into a laugh that doubled you forward, hands braced on your knees.
he grinned at your reaction, clearly proud of himself. “what, am i wrong?”
“no, it’s the way you said it! like—zero hesitation. so matter-of-fact.”
“i’m just agreeing with you,” he said, mock-innocent.
your laughter faded slowly, leaving the two of you sitting there in that in-between silence — the kind that isn’t awkward, just full.
you met his eyes again. and this time, you didn’t look away right away.
neither did he.
his expression softened — the edges of his mouth twitching slightly, like he wanted to say something else. or maybe lean in.
your heart beat louder than the music outside.
his eyes flicked down — just once. barely.
and that was your cue.
“we are not gonna kiss,” you blurted, pointing at him.
draken dropped his hand dramatically onto the piano, letting it crash into a chaotic jumble of keys.
ba-donnnng.
you burst into laughter again. “i’m serious!”
he just looked at you, eyes narrow. “why not?”
“because if we kiss,” you said, “then it becomes real. and this is not real. this is wine and a piano and fake names and me doing the interpretive worm.”
“so you’re saying… a kiss ruins it?”
“yes. because a kiss makes it mean something.”
he tilted his head slightly. “not if it’s a bad kiss.”
“you saying you’re a bad kisser?”
“not at all,” he said, leaning his elbow on the piano, watching you closely now. “but if you’re scared…”
“i’m not scared,” you snapped back, eyes narrowing.
“then what’s the problem?”
“i just don’t trust you.”
“to kiss you?”
“no,” you said dramatically, “to not use too much tongue.”
he raised both brows. “you think i’d use too much tongue?”
you pointed to his mouth. “you look like a guy who gets cocky with tongue.”
he leaned a little closer, voice low but playful. “i’ll have you know i use exactly the right amount of tongue.”
you rolled your eyes, trying not to smile. “okay, mathematician.”
“balanced. measured. tailored to your face.”
you laughed again — a sharp, bright sound that filled the quiet room.
your laughter faded slowly, and what remained between you wasn’t quite silence — it was breath. thick and warm and close. his knees were still turned toward you, your legs brushing just enough to notice, and the piano’s last clumsy chord still echoed somewhere in the wooden floorboards.
he was watching you — really watching you now. eyes dark but soft, like he wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up here, in this little forgotten room with you, but now that he was… he didn’t want to leave it.
you tilted your head slightly, biting the inside of your cheek.
then, quiet and thoughtful, you said, “how about this.”
his brow rose.
you leaned forward a little, chin propped in your hand. “the drum roll.”
he blinked once. “drum roll?”
you nodded, explaining with a little grin, like you were letting him in on a very serious secret.
“you know how every kiss has a drum roll? the part right before it happens — the lean in, the pause, that… build-up. like the universe is holding its breath?”
he nodded slowly, watching you with interest now.
“that’s the best part,” you said, voice soft but certain. “it’s better than the kiss itself, sometimes.”
he tilted his head. “so… you’re saying…”
“we stop there,” you said. “we only do the drum roll.”
“just the lead-up.”
“just the lead-up,” you echoed, smiling. “no kiss. no tongue. no consequences.”
he blinked at you again, then let out a low chuckle. “you’re something else.”
you shrugged. “you in or not?”
he didn’t answer with words.
instead, he turned slightly on the bench, slowly — deliberately — and waited for you to do the same.
you did.
and then it began — the drum roll.
you both leaned in, carefully, like something fragile was held between you. his eyes flicked to your mouth once, then back up to your eyes. your breath hitched slightly, and you felt his fan across your cheek, warm and steady.
you were so close now. so close you could see the faintest scar near his temple. so close you could count the freckles on the bridge of his nose. so close your knees touched fully now, no space left.
but neither of you moved the final inch.
you just… stayed there.
hovering.
breathing.
letting the weight of almost settle around you like smoke.
you closed your eyes for a beat. just to feel it.
and he didn’t pull away.
not yet.
not until a few seconds passed and the silence deepened into something warm and impossible.
then you both leaned back at the same time, slowly, like surfacing from water. and when your eyes met again, there was no teasing in them — just understanding.
you’d shared something.
something small.
but impossibly big.
no kiss.
no contact.
just the best part of it.
the drum roll.
(..◜ᴗ◝..)
“…the drum roll?” mitsuya repeated, brows raised.
draken nodded once. “yep.”
mikey looked up, blinking slowly. “that’s it?”
“that’s it.”
mikey blinked again. “you didn’t kiss her?”
“no.”
“you didn’t ask for her number?”
“nope.”
“you didn’t even find out her last name?”
“i didn’t.”
“bro,” mikey groaned, slumping even further into his bowl. “are you actually stupid or just emotionally constipated?”
“i don’t think those are mutually exclusive,” mitsuya muttered.
draken gave them both a look. “it wasn’t like that.”
“it sounds exactly like that,” mitsuya said, finally lifting his chopsticks. “you met someone who clearly made you soft in the head and the heart, and then you just let her vanish like it was some poetic side-quest.”
“it wasn’t about closing the deal,” draken said, a little quieter now. “it was—i don’t know. it was perfect. she was perfect. we just… connected. for real.”
mikey frowned. “so then why not actually do something about it?”
draken leaned forward, elbows on the table, looking at the warped reflection of his glass of water. “because we weren’t supposed to. that was the deal. one night. no names. no kiss. and it worked. we ended it before we ruined it.”
“draken,” mitsuya said slowly, like he was breaking bad news, “you already ruined it by not following up.”
“it’s not like i’ll see her again,” draken muttered, voice low. “we left it exactly how it started — like a story you don’t finish.”
the ramen shop settled into a quiet stretch.
mikey picked up his tea. mitsuya took another bite of his egg.
draken sat there, still — jaw set, shoulders stiff. until—
“…damn it.”
he shoved his hands down on the table and stood up, the stool screeching under him.
“damn it, i have to see her again.”
mikey nearly choked on his tea. “finally.”
“took you long enough,” mitsuya added, but there was a grin in his voice now.
draken ran a hand through his hair, looking half-crazed and entirely alive. “i don’t even know where to start—she said her name was sundrop.”
mikey blinked. “like the flower?”
“or a soda?” mitsuya offered.
“no idea.”
“that’s the dumbest fake name i’ve ever heard,” mikey said.
draken was still standing, one hand in his pocket, the other gripping his phone like it might start ringing on its own. his brows were pulled tight, mind racing.
mikey and mitsuya stared at him from the booth, both half-finished with their ramen now, interest fully redirected to the drama unfolding.
“okay, wait,” mitsuya said suddenly, sitting up straighter. “you said her real name was…”
“y/n,” draken said, nodding once. “that’s all i got. no last name. no number. no workplace. just ‘y/n’ and that stupid fake name she gave me.”
mikey furrowed his brows. “sunlight?”
“sundrop,” draken corrected, sighing like the name actually hurt now.
“sundrop,” mitsuya repeated, squinting. “that’s so unserious of her.”
“and yet here we are,” draken muttered, staring at the name in his recent calls. “i can’t stop thinking about her.”
“okay, but listen,” mitsuya said, glancing at mikey. “didn’t y/n hang out with hinata at the reception?”
mikey blinked. “wait. yeah. they were definitely talking by the photo wall.”
“boom,” mitsuya said, gesturing with both hands. “there’s your link.”
“hinata,” draken echoed, eyes lighting up. “hinata would know who she is.”
there was a pause.
and then mikey frowned.
“…they’re on their honeymoon, bro.”
draken’s hand froze mid-dial.
“they just left for two weeks,” mikey continued, now slurping noodles again. “remember? takemichi said something about beaches and zero cell service. and ‘not even god is allowed to call us.’ direct quote.”
mitsuya nodded. “you should definitely wait until they’re back.”
draken slowly set the phone face down on the table. “…yeah. yeah, i’ll wait.”
a pause.
“you’re calling her right now, aren’t you?” mikey said flatly.
“yeah i’m calling her right now,” draken said, flipping the phone over again.
“don’t do it!” mikey exclaimed, pointing at him with his chopsticks. “don’t ruin their honeymoon!”
“you think she’s actually gonna answer?” mitsuya added, mouth half-full. “what’s your plan? leave a desperate voicemail?”
draken didn’t answer — just scrolled through his contacts like a man possessed.
mikey groaned and dropped his forehead dramatically into his bowl. “you’re the worst. they’re probably on a boat somewhere.”
“just one question,” draken muttered, holding the phone to his ear.
“draken—” mitsuya started.
“—and i swear i’ll be respectful—”
as the line started to ring, mikey leaned over to whisper urgently, “ask her about the cake.”
draken blinked. “what?”
“ask her where they got the cake,” mikey repeated, deadly serious. “it was so soft. like clouds. and the frosting wasn’t even too sweet.”
mitsuya nodded solemnly. “respectfully, i second this.”
draken rolled his eyes — but the smile tugging at his lips gave him away.
he wasn’t calling for the cake.
he was calling for her.
the line rang once.
twice.
a third time—
“hello?” a familiar voice chirped.
draken’s eyes widened. “…hinata?”
“draken?” she replied, equal parts surprised and suspicious.
he cleared his throat, forcing himself to sound casual. “heyyy hinata.”
mikey and mitsuya were already mouthing what is he doing? from the booth.
“i just—uh—wanted to say the wedding was so beautiful,” draken said, pacing in a slow circle now. “like… stunning. perfect weather. great venue. amazing speeches. and that dress? you? radiant.”
there was a pause.
“thank you…?” hinata replied slowly.
“also! how’s the honeymoon?” he asked quickly.
but before she could even open her mouth, draken steamrolled ahead.
“so i kinda met this girl at the reception and i was wondering if—”
“ohhh you have got to be kidding me!” hinata exploded.
“here we go,” takemichi’s voice groaned in the background.
“draken, twenty-four hours ago, you were inviting emma to the wedding—like, making a whole scene in the kitchen about how it’s ‘important’ and ‘we’re figuring things out’—and now you’re just suddenly over her?!”
draken winced. “i’ve… moved on?”
hinata let out a long, dramatic sigh — one that probably echoed across the entire island they were honeymooning on.
“what’s her name,” hinata asked finally. “and if it’s my fat cousin kaski, don’t lie. she has beautiful eyes and a killer personality.”
“it’s not kaski,” draken muttered quickly. “her name was y/n.”
“full name?”
“…just y/n.”
another pause. and then—
“well,” hinata said brightly, “you’re in luck!”
draken’s spine straightened. “really?”
“yep! lucky for you, i have my guest list memorized forwards and backwards.”
mikey gave a triumphant thumbs-up from his seat. mitsuya mouthed clutch.
draken exhaled, shoulders dropping. “thank god. i thought—”
“unlucky for you,” hinata cut in, her tone shifting instantly, “there was no ‘y/n’ on my guest list.”
draken froze. “…wait, what?”
“no y/n,” she repeated. “no y-n. no y period n period. no guest nicknamed sundrop. nada. zip.”
“what? that can’t be—”
“draken,” hinata said flatly, “i love you, but we’re on a boat. and takemichi just figured out how sunscreen works. goodbye.”
click.
the line went dead.
draken stood there for a full five seconds, phone still to his ear.
the silence in the ramen shop was deafening.
“…so?” mitsuya asked finally.
draken slowly turned back toward them, stunned.
“she wasn’t on the guest list,” he muttered.
mikey blinked. “you got ghosted by a phantom guest.”
draken dropped into the booth again, hands on his head.
“she’s not real,” he whispered.
mitsuya handed him the bottle of soy sauce like it was a shot of whiskey.
mikey leaned in, totally unfazed. “…did she say anything about the cake?”
“she wasn’t on the guest list,” draken repeated, still stunned, still reeling.
“so she crashed the wedding,” mitsuya said, piecing it together out loud.
“ohh,” mikey said, grinning now. “she’s good. she’s very good.”
mitsuya leaned back in the booth, nodding slowly. “maybe… maybe she gave a second fake name. like, for the rsvp.”
“a decoy fake name,” mikey said, eyes wide with admiration. “damn. she’s a pro.”
“i told you she was impressive,” draken muttered.
mitsuya, eyes suddenly distant, shifted gears again. “wait. what if… she didn’t want to kiss you because she was… a ghost.”
mikey sat up. “wait, yeah! and if you’d kissed her, your lips would’ve gone right through her and it would’ve felt really cold for a second!”
he slapped the table once. “yo. that’d make such a good screenplay.”
draken blinked at both of them. “guys.”
“she only appears under moonlight,” mitsuya added seriously. “only after bouquet tosses and ill-advised wine heists—”
“guys,” draken said louder, waving his hands. “she’s not a ghost.”
“you sure?” mikey asked, resting his chin in his hand.
“yeah. because she picked up the bouquet. solid object interaction. corporeal form. this isn’t ‘sixth sense,’ man.” mitsuya joked.
draken face-palmed.
“wait,” mitsuya said suddenly, sitting forward. “she was sitting across a few bridesmaids during the speeches, wasn’t she?”
“yeah!” draken snapped his fingers. “she was!”
mikey leaned back again. “okay, cool, cool — and how exactly are we supposed to get in touch with any of them?”
there was a pause.
draken looked at his phone.
then he grinned.
“i’m calling hakkai.”
mitsuya’s eyes widened. “you think—?”
“his brother definitely hooked up with one of the bridesmaids,” draken said, already dialing. “maybe she knows who y/n is.”
“that’s such a weird chain of people,” mikey muttered.
the line rang twice before hakkai answered, voice groggy and suspicious.
“…hello?”
“hakkai,” draken said, no time for pleasantries. “your brother hooked up with one of the bridesmaids, right?”
there was a beat of silence.
“…draken, what the hell—”
“i just need her number,” he said quickly. “i’m trying to find someone who might not even exist.”
“uh, no? i’m not getting involved with whatever bizarre scavenger hunt this is,” hakkai said immediately.
draken groaned. “come on.”
“hakkai,” mitsuya said suddenly, grabbing the phone and flipping the switch. “it’s me. listen. it’s romantic. it’s tragic. it’s maybe fate. you want to be the guy who stood in the way of that?”
silence.
then a sigh.
“…give me five minutes. if this girl blocks me, i’m blaming you.”
“deal,” mitsuya said, grinning as he handed the phone back to draken.
mikey blinked. “did you just romance-speech hakkai?”
“it works,” mitsuya shrugged. “i’m terrifying when i’m heartfelt.”
draken stared at the phone like it might unlock all the answers in the world.
and for the first time in hours…
he actually had a lead.
the phone was now on speaker, lying flat on the table between draken, mitsuya, and mikey — all leaning in like detectives on the edge of a breakthrough. on the other end, hakkai’s voice sounded deeply unamused.
“okay,” hakkai sighed. “she’s on the line. but i need more than ‘mysterious girl with a pretty face and a fake name.’ does anyone remember anything else about her?”
“what was she wearing?” the bridesmaid’s voice crackled faintly through the speaker.
hakkai repeated the question. “draken. clothes. anything stick?”
mikey scoffed. “he’s a guy. no way he can even remember her shoes.”
“actually,” draken said, sitting up straighter, “i do.”
mitsuya and mikey blinked in unison.
“wait, seriously?” mikey asked.
“yeah. they were silver — strappy, but with that thin heel, and glittery. like… obnoxiously glittery.”
mitsuya nodded, impressed. “okay cinderella detail, go on.”
“when we left the reception room,” draken said, leaning forward slightly, “i asked her, like, what’s the first thing she wanted to do after the wedding ended. and she said…”
he grinned a little at the memory.
“…she said, ‘take off these damn shoes,’ handed them to me, and then did a full cartwheel across the courtyard. like — no warning. just boom.”
there was a stunned pause.
mikey looked like he’d just seen god. “…you watched a woman do a cartwheel in a formal gown and didn’t immediately propose?”
hakkai’s voice came back, dry. “i relayed the info.”
from the other end, the bridesmaid’s voice lit up. “awww, that’s kind of adorable. they sound cute.”
“yep,” hakkai said, with all the energy of a man in hour seven of being emotionally held hostage. “real fairytale stuff.”
“does that ring any bells?” he asked, hopefully.
a beat.
then:
“nope! sorry,” the bridesmaid said. “but hey — you trying to hook up?”
hakkai deadpanned, “wrong brother,” and immediately hung up.
the line clicked off.
a long silence followed in the ramen shop.
draken leaned back in his seat, rubbing his temples.
“well, that’s that.”
“we tried,” mitsuya said with a sigh.
“you guys owe me,” hakkai’s voice came through one final time — a text, not a call.
mitsuya raised his soda in solemn respect. “legend.”
mikey, still clearly focused on the cartwheel part, muttered, “if i don’t get that at my wedding, i’m not signing the papers.”
draken slumped deeper into the booth.
back to square one.
the silence after hakkai’s hang-up sat heavy over the booth.
draken leaned back, arms crossed, staring at the condensation running down his glass of water like it held answers. mitsuya sipped slowly from his soda. mikey twirled his noodles with exaggerated effort, clearly unbothered by the existential crisis unfolding next to him.
after a few quiet beats, mitsuya finally said, “hey. don’t lose hope.”
draken didn’t answer.
“she could’ve been staying at the hotel where the wedding was, right?” mitsuya offered, voice calm but hopeful. “we could call them. ask if anyone checked in under the name y/n. or maybe just ‘y’ or ‘n.’”
draken raised an eyebrow.
mikey slurped loudly. “or sundrop.”
both mitsuya and draken turned to look at him.
mikey froze, chopsticks in mid-air. “…okay, maybe not sundrop.”
draken shook his head and exhaled, leaning forward with both arms on the table.
“you know what?” he said, voice steady now — not defeated, but resolved. “this is fate.”
mitsuya frowned. “what?”
“i was never supposed to see this girl again,” draken said. “that was the whole point of the night. no names. no contact. no kiss. just that one perfect moment.”
he reached for his drink and stared down at the swirling ice.
“and maybe this is the universe keeping it clean. keeping it beautiful. maybe i’m just being saved from myself.”
“so we just let her go?” mitsuya asked, still not convinced.
“we let her go,” draken said, nodding. “and we don’t talk about her again.”
mikey raised his bowl. “to wasting food and emotional suppression.”
“cheers,” draken said dryly.
the three of them dug into their mostly-forgotten bowls. the clinking of chopsticks replaced the chaos of a few moments ago.
but even as he ate, even as he told himself it was done, draken knew one thing for sure.
he was not done.
not by a long shot.
(..◜ᴗ◝..)
evening settled over the sano house like a blanket — quiet, soft, almost too still.
mikey had just dropped face-first onto his bed, stomach full of ramen, brain full of half-formed theories about cartwheels, ghosts, and unexplainable connections. he was drifting between consciousness and a very necessary nap when—
knock knock.
his eyes cracked open.
“…what,” he groaned toward the door.
“it’s me,” came emma’s voice on the other side.
he rolled over and forced himself up, still groggy, then padded across the room and opened it.
emma stood there, already halfway through pulling her cardigan sleeves down, looking a little flushed but smiling.
“what do you want?” he asked, rubbing one eye.
“just came to tell you something,” she said. “i got the job.”
his eyes lit up a little despite himself. “oh shoot. really?”
“mmhm.”
he leaned against the doorframe, smirking. “look at you. big boss manager lady.”
emma laughed lightly. “it’s not that big of a deal.”
“no, it is,” he said honestly. “that’s huge.”
her smile faltered a little — just a flicker — and she glanced down at her hands. “i still feel bad, though. for flaking on draken. right before the wedding.”
mikey tilted his head. “don’t.”
“i told him i’d go and then didn’t,” she said softly. “he didn’t say anything, but… i still feel like i let him down.”
mikey took a deep breath and stepped back, motioning for her to come in.
“you didn’t,” he said. “and actually… you’re not even ready for this.”
“what do you mean?”
he flopped onto his bed again, head propped on a pillow, one arm behind it. “i’m about to tell you the wildest story. sit.”
she did — crossing her legs at the foot of his bed, eyebrows knit.
“so,” mikey began, “in fact… you flaking might’ve been the best thing that could’ve happened to him.”
and then he told her everything.
from draken getting stood up at the wedding entrance
to the silky dress
to the bouquet heist
to the drum roll
to the ramen shop
to the ghost theory
to hakkai’s wrong-brother hookup connection
to the cartwheel
to the dead end.
he told it with his usual dramatic flair, hands moving with every name drop, every twist, every dumb decision.
by the time he finished, emma’s expression had gone completely still.
“…and so now,” mikey said, “he’s pretending it’s fate, but we all know he’s lying to himself. dude’s down bad.”
emma didn’t say anything.
she just kept staring at him — not shocked, not confused — but something else.
heartbroken.
“…what?” mikey asked finally, sitting up.
her voice was barely above a whisper.
“i know who she is.”
mikey sat up straighter, eyebrows pulled together.
“wait, how do you know who she is? you weren’t even at the wedding!”
emma looked down for a second, then lifted her eyes again, steady this time.
“actually…” she said quietly, “i kinda was.”
“what?”
“i didn’t plan to be,” she started. “i had my interview that afternoon, and once it ended, i was feeling so good — so excited. and i just… i don’t know. i wanted to tell draken in person. to surprise him. so i went to the reception.”
mikey blinked.
“i got there late, right after the ceremony ended. no one noticed me sneak in. and that’s when i saw them.”
she paused, and mikey saw her swallow — like the memory still stung.
“they were in this side room. not completely closed off, but kinda hidden. there was a piano. and they were sitting there. on the bench. really close. laughing.”
she looked away.
“and it hit me. like, actually hit me. how he was looking at her.”
mikey sat there, stunned.
“so i ducked out and went to the bathroom. ladies’ room near the back hallway.”
emma’s voice got quieter, breathier now, almost like she was back there again.
“i went into the last stall. sat down. and just started sobbing. quietly at first. and then full-on snot-level crying. like… embarrassing.”
she gave a soft, self-deprecating laugh. “i kept whispering, ‘oh, damn it. come on. stop it. stop it. what the hell are you doing?’”
“it wasn’t even technically anything. not a kiss. not a confession. but it felt like something. and it made me feel so stupid.”
mikey’s face softened. he didn’t say anything.
emma wiped under her eyes again, even now.
“i’m still sitting there blowing my nose into cheap toilet paper when i hear this voice.”
she straightened a little. “‘hello? you okay in there?’”
mikey raised his brows.
“i panicked,” emma said. “so i went, ‘uhhh… yeah! i’m fine! um… just allergies or something!’”
and then she smiled, a little — but it was fragile.
“i looked down. and i saw her shoes under the stall door.”
mikey froze. “the shoes?”
emma nodded. “silver. strappy. thin-heeled. obnoxiously glittery.”
mikey blinked again, piecing it together.
“i was still crying,” she continued. “and she goes, ‘listen… do you wanna come and cry out here? i’ve been told i’m an excellent hugger.’”
“you’re kidding,” mikey muttered.
“i said no thanks. told her i don’t cry in front of people. or at all. but then i blew my nose again and said, ‘oh man, this is so gross. does everyone snot up this much when they cry?’”
emma laughed softly. “and she goes, ‘hey, you’re speaking to a fellow snotter!’”
that part made mikey laugh too — just a little.
“she was funny. and nice. and she wasn’t trying to pry.”
emma’s face sobered again.
“but then… she asked me. ‘so why ya crying?’”
silence filled the room like heavy fog.
mikey sat back, arms crossed, eyes still locked on his sister.
then he nodded once and said, deadpan:
“because you have feelings for draken.”
emma stared at the floor, arms folded over her chest.
“i don’t know,” she said softly. “maybe?”
mikey’s jaw dropped. his arms shot out like he was trying to stop invisible traffic.
“okay, what is wrong with the two of you!? seriously?!!”
emma blinked, startled.
“you like him! he likes you! just be together already!” mikey threw his arms up again, spinning in a tiny circle. “jeez louise, happiness is not that difficult!”
“oh, listen,” emma said, getting to her feet now, flustered. “yes, i cried in the bathroom. and yes, that was weird!”
she began gesturing wildly. “but that doesn’t mean i’m in love with the guy!”
“really?” mikey shot back.
“yes! the fact is, i don’t know how i feel!”
mikey stepped forward, pointing dramatically. “yes, you do!”
emma stopped mid-motion.
“seeing him with someone else and crying about it? guess what?! that’s how you feel! that is nothing but how you feel!”
the room went still.
they stood across from each other — both breathing a little heavier now, the tension having finally caught up with them.
emma swallowed.
“okay, fine,” she snapped. “i have feelings for him. happy?!”
mikey grinned. “kind of, yeah.”
emma rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful. she let out a long, frustrated breath.
“but it doesn’t change anything,” she said, calmer now, quieter. “i still want commitment. and he’s still draken.”
mikey’s smile faded just slightly. “yeah…”
emma turned to the door, but stopped herself. she took a deep breath.
“what i should do is tell him who y/n is. so he can be happy.”
mikey threw up his hands again. “or you could tell him you’re into him, and then you could both be happy!”
they locked eyes again — less heated now, but still intense. the kind of silence that isn’t uncomfortable… just waiting.
then emma nodded, almost to herself.
“i’m gonna go find him.”
she turned toward the hallway, steps already picking up pace—
“wait.”
she stopped in the doorway.
turned back.
mikey tilted his head. “which one are you gonna tell him?”
emma looked down at the floor.
at her hands.
at the door again.
“…i have no idea.”
(..◜ᴗ◝..)
the ramen shop buzzed with soft noise — the clink of chopsticks, the steady slurp of noodles, laughter bubbling up from booth to booth.
in the back corner sat draken, mitsuya, and nahoya, crammed into their usual booth, the remains of their meal scattered in front of them. nahoya was halfway through reenacting some wild interaction from earlier that day — something about a lady with a parrot in her bag yelling at a vending machine — and both draken and mitsuya were laughing hard enough that nahoya had to pause to wipe his eyes.
“bro, she threw a can of ginger ale at me like it owed her money!” nahoya wheezed.
“i swear, you live in a sitcom,” mitsuya said, shaking his head.
draken was just about to wipe his mouth when the bell above the door jingled.
“hey guys,” came a voice.
they all turned to see emma standing in the entrance, a little hesitant but wearing a half-smile.
“emma,” nahoya grinned. “yo.”
“hey,” mitsuya greeted warmly.
draken straightened, surprised but glad. “hey.”
emma shifted slightly, eyes flicking toward him. “um, hey draken. can i talk to you outside for a second?”
draken blinked. “uh—yeah, sure.”
he stood, wiping his hands on a napkin as he cleared his throat. “what’s up?”
but just then, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
emma opened her mouth again. “i have to tell you something.”
he glanced down at the screen. “um…?”
emma nodded, understanding. “go ahead. pick it up.”
draken answered and held the phone to his ear. “hello?”
“draken, it’s me. takemichi.”
draken smiled faintly. “yo.”
“my lovely bride would like to say something to you,” takemichi added with a chuckle, before handing the phone off.
“draaaakeeeeen,” came hinata’s voice, dripping in sarcasm.
he could already hear airport chaos in the background.
“i’m sorry i hung up on you earlier,” she slurred just slightly, “but my new husband and this vodka cranberry, which by the way cost ten dollars and fifty cents at the airport bar,” — a pause as she shouted in the distance — “when is this plane going to board?!”
a faint, calming “sweet pea” from takemichi followed, trying to gently reel her back.
hinata cleared her throat. “anyway. i realized that sometimes i can act like a crazy person. and i don’t want my new husband thinking i’m a crazy person.”
draken chuckled. “it’s fine, hinata. seriously. don’t worry about it.”
in the booth, mitsuya gestured wildly, pantomiming eating — shoveling invisible forkfuls into his mouth.
“oh,” draken added into the phone, “and the guys were wondering where you got that cake.”
“cake?” hinata asked, confused for a second.
but behind him, emma had gone still.
the noise faded into a dull hum around her as a memory resurfaced — sudden and vivid.
she was in the bathroom stall, sniffling, red-eyed and emotionally wrecked. and then came that soft voice:
“why don’t you take this?”
a bouquet slid under the stall wall.
emma blinked, reached down, and pulled it toward her.
“sounds like you could use it,” the girl had said from the other side.
emma’s voice had cracked. “thank you. you’re very sweet.”
and then: “so are you a friend of the bride or groom?”
a pause.
“actually… neither.”
emma’s heart picked up as the flash faded and she blinked back into the present.
on the other end of the phone, hinata finally answered draken’s question.
“we got it from this bakery downtown,” she said. “it’s called—”
“sundrop sweets,” emma whispered.
draken’s head turned sharply toward her, stunned.
“sundrop sweets,” hinata repeated. “you should go there sometime. amazing frosting.”
draken’s hand slowly lowered the phone from his ear, hanging up without another word.
his eyes widened as it clicked.
he turned to mitsuya, voice low but electric with realization.
“she made the cake.”
draken was pacing now, eyes wild, voice climbing in pitch.
“she wasn’t on the guest list because she wasn’t a guest!!” he turned to mitsuya, pointing like a man possessed. “she made the cake!”
mitsuya blinked hard, like something in his soul had just clicked.
“she made that cake.” he stood slowly. “draken. this is the girl.”
draken stared at him.
“you gotta marry her. today.”
“what—?”
“no, listen to me,” mitsuya said, suddenly intense, gripping draken’s shoulders. “she’s gotta move in with us. do you understand me? this woman bakes.”
“i’m going down to that bakery,” draken declared, spinning on his heel, already halfway out the booth.
but mikey jumped up, grabbing him by the arm and whipping him back around. “no no no. don’t do it!”
mitsuya’s voice shot up an octave. “what are you talking about?!”
draken pointed at mikey, arms flailing now. “yeah! all day long you’ve been busting my apple bag about finding this girl!”
“i know, i know!” mikey said, sweating. “but maybe she’s just… not that into you.”
draken’s expression froze.
mikey hesitated, then added, eyes darting to emma, “and… and maybe that’s why she didn’t give you her number.”
he turned, slowly, dramatically.
“emma? care to chime in with anything?”
all eyes on her.
emma stood frozen, eyes locked with draken’s.
“…yes, draken.”
everyone held their breath.
emma exhaled, quietly but firmly.
“go get her.”
draken’s face lit up like a firework. “going!! getting!!!”
he rushed toward the door—only for nahoya to dramatically slide in front of him like a basketball defense move.
“oh my gosh i love this moment!” nahoya said, giddy, bouncing on his heels. “you know why? because i’m gonna say it. and this time, you’re gonna say yes.”
draken blinked. “nahoya not now—”
“ready?” nahoya rubbed his hands together. “are ya ready to say yes??”
he took a deep, theatrical breath.
“draken… it’s time to get a perm.”
draken, adrenaline pumping, fist in the air: “YES!!”
nahoya threw his arms up in triumph.
then draken paused. blinked.
“…no.”
“oh come on!!” nahoya whined, tossing a napkin at him.
(..◜ᴗ◝..)
the city glided past the windows in a blur of neon and brake lights, muted under the low hum of the engine and the occasional shuffle of a ramen wrapper in the backseat.
draken sat in the passenger seat, eyes fixed out the window, but he wasn’t seeing anything out there.
he was seeing her.
the piano room had faded behind them, and they stepped back into the reception hall.
it was empty.
no lights strung up. no laughing voices. no cake crumbs on plates.
just silence and the leftover sparkle of a party that had already come and gone.
“guess we were gone a while,” she said, glancing around.
draken chuckled. “did we miss the entire party?”
“entire,” she confirmed.
they both laughed, quietly — not the big kind, but the soft, breathy kind that stays with you.
and then she pouted, just a little.
“kinda wanted one dance.”
draken looked at her.
then held out a hand.
“then let’s dance.”
they moved together slowly, no music, just the hush of the empty room.
his hands were steady. hers were light on his shoulders.
her dress rustled gently when she swayed.
it was the kind of dance that made time feel embarrassed for ever trying to pass.
“sundrop sweets! this is it.”
mikey’s voice pulled draken sharply out of his head.
they pulled up to a little corner bakery, pastel-painted and glowing from the inside like it had its own sun.
mitsuya leaned forward, giving draken a firm pat on the shoulder. “good luck, dude. grab me a cupcake.”
draken didn’t move.
he just sat there, fingers tapping against his knee, staring at the front doors like he wasn’t sure what he’d see on the other side — or if he even deserved to see it.
“draken?” nahoya said carefully. “you still with us?”
their dance slowed to a stop.
they looked at each other.
and leaned in.
but just before their lips met, she pulled away — not cold, not apologetic, just… gentle.
a breath away from something real.
“there’s one flaw with tonight,” draken had said, his voice low.
she looked up at him. “what?”
he smiled softly. “i’m gonna have to feel the pain of seeing you walk out the door.”
she tilted her head. thought for a moment. then reached up and touched his chest lightly.
“then don’t watch me go.”
he blinked.
“close your eyes,” she said. “and count to five.”
he hesitated.
but did it anyway.
“one…”
“two…”
“three…”
he could hear her breathing.
“four…”
and then—
“five.”
he opened his eyes.
she was gone.
draken still hadn’t moved.
the guys were quiet now — even mikey — watching him carefully like the wrong word might tip him over.
he stared at the glowing bakery sign ahead.
sundrop sweets.
his jaw was tight. eyes stormy.
“maybe we both need that,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
mikey turned slightly. “need what?”
“this,” draken said softly, nodding toward the bakery. “to stay exactly what it is. a perfect night. no real names. no regrets.”
mitsuya blinked slowly. nahoya was chewing his gum like it was making him nervous.
draken exhaled, long and heavy.
“i mean, so many things go wrong in life. you plan, you build, you fight for things—” he looked down at his hands. “and still, it all falls apart.”
silence.
“but this… this is the one thing that never will.”
his voice dropped, like he was afraid to jinx it.
“it’ll always, always be pure, unadulterated, awesome.”
he turned toward the window, not quite looking in yet.
“if i walk in there,” he said slowly, “i’m robbing both of us of what could be. of what stayed perfect.”
nahoya squinted, leaned forward between the seats.
“dude, the meter’s running,” he said flatly. “crap or get off the pot.”
draken snapped his head around. “what?”
“i’m serious. i will not pay a dime over this.”
“yeah, yeah, i’m going,” draken muttered, pushing open the door.
the city air hit him first — cool, sharp, stirring the ends of his jacket.
he took a deep breath.
then turned toward the bakery.
he slowed as he walked past the big front window.
and there she was.
behind the glass, under warm lights and surrounded by colors and sugar and laughter he couldn’t hear — she was frosting cupcakes.
a small tray balanced on her arm. her brow slightly furrowed in concentration. she was smoothing the top of a swirl, the back of her hand dotted with flour.
she looked so real.
so un-magical in the most magical way.
no red dress. no fancy lights. no soft music playing.
just her. still that girl. but here, in the world, in her element.
his heart thudded.
draken opened the bakery door.
the bell above it chimed, light and bright.
cold air curled in behind him.
and the scent hit him hard — frosting, sugar, maybe a little almond. something citrusy. vanilla in the walls.
his boots touched tile, and everything in him stopped moving.
but in front of him, she didn’t look up yet.
she was still frosting, lost in the rhythm.
just as he’d been, not long ago, lost in the memory.
(..◜ᴗ◝..)
you finish smoothing the last swirl of frosting with a careful flick of your wrist, setting the cupcake down in the display tray with a quiet satisfaction.
your fingers are still a little sticky with sugar when the doorbell chimes.
you don’t look up right away — the sound of the bell is familiar, background noise most days — but something feels different this time.
heavier.
weighted.
you glance toward the door.
and there he is.
standing just inside the shop, like he doesn’t know what to do next.
hair a little messier. jacket half-zipped. eyes locked on you like you’re the only real thing in the room.
your breath catches.
your heart flips over.
and before you even realize you’re moving—
“oh thank god,” you say, voice breathless with relief.
and then you run.
you round the counter without hesitation and close the distance between you and draken like you’ve been waiting forever.
his arms barely open before you crash into him — arms wrapping tight around his neck, face tilted up, and your lips meet his in a kiss that feels like catching up on everything you lost the second you let go that night.
he kisses you back instantly.
it’s not delicate. it’s not rehearsed. it’s not even perfect.
but it’s real.
and it tastes like sugar.
and you never, not for one second, want to pull away.
his hands settle on your waist, grounding you.
you don’t speak. you don’t need to.
the kiss says it all — the missed chances, the “what ifs,” the five-second countdown, and every second since.
when you finally part, it’s just an inch — just enough to breathe the same air and rest your forehead against his.
you smile. he does too.
and outside the bakery window…
“WHOOOOO!!!”
nahoya’s face is pressed to the glass like a kid in a candy store — fittingly.
mikey’s hands are cupped around his eyes as he leans in, squinting. “they’re kissing!! they’re literally kissing right now!!”
mitsuya is behind them, grinning from ear to ear, arms in the air like he just scored a goal.
“HE FOUND HER!! BAKER GIRL IS REAL!!!”
a passerby slows down, staring at the spectacle.
“are they okay?” someone mumbles.
“NO,” nahoya shouts through the glass. “THEY’RE IN LOVE!!”
inside, draken groans softly, his forehead still resting against yours.
“i swear,” he mutters, lips brushing your temple, “they follow me everywhere.”
you laugh.
and suddenly — this moment, this shop, this chaos — ends the most perfect night you’ve ever had.
HIII!! CAN WE GET SOME CRUSH HCS FOR TOMAN BOYS WITH A VERY BUBBLY PERSON WHO IS SOMEHOW ALWAYS SMILING READER PLEASE!? if not, please ignore! ^_^
I'm not completely sure what you mean by Toman Boys, so I picked 5 characters from Toman the I see as like the main pillar characters of it.
Manjiro "Mikey" Sano
Brightest Sun
The moment he saw you talking with Hinata was the moment he wanted to keep you safe. Your unyielding kindness and love for others is unmatched. Always helping and taking care of the members of Toman.
He wants you to stay as bright as the sun. So he pushes back his feelings, scared they might extinguish your sun.
Ken "Draken" Ryuguji
Brightest smile
Draken knows what this feeling is, the warm feeling in your chest, it's love. Your affection is contagious, he always smiles when you're around. He's not exactly scared, he's just not good at expressing his own feelings.
He's planning on getting you a gift so he can see your smile up close again.
Baji Keisuke
Unknown Wingman
Baji wasn't sure if he should be feeling like this, you where one of Chifuyu's friends. You always brightened up his day when you were around. Unknown to him, Chifuyu saw him every time he tried to sneak a peak at you.
So Chifuyu been inviting you over almost every time he and Baji hanged out in hope Baji would confess.
Takashi Mitsuya
Embroidered Love
Whenever you came by the club, Mitsuya would get distracted, you always have the brightest smile. Lighting up the room. He feels his cheek warm whenever you compliment his work.
One day, he will surprise you with a specialty made jacket. As bright and beautiful as you.
Chifuyu Matsuno.
Living in a shoujo manga
Chifuyu thinks he's in a shojou manga, he still remembers the first time he met you. Your fingers brushed his as you two went for the same manga in the store. That beautiful smile you gave him when you allowed him to take the manga. Made butterflies erupt from his stomach.
The next time he went to the manga shop, he saw you. He is living in a shoujo manga.
Debrief: Draken wasn’t sure he could ever fall in love again, until he met you.
Warnings: brief mention of Emma’s death
Case Notes: here you go, Nonnie! Thank you for being so patient, enjoy your flowers!
The bouquet feels strangely heavy. Not because it’s large. It isn’t. Just a handful of white lilies, pale pink carnations, and little sprigs of baby’s breath wrapped in brown paper with a complimentary ribbon. The kind of flowers that looked honest instead of expensive.
Draken stares at them in his saddlebag from the driver’s seat of his bike for another minute before sighing.
“…You’re twenty-seven,” he mutters to himself, “Grow the hell up.”
He’s faced gang wars. He’s stared down men twice his size. He’s buried people he loved. And somehow knocking on your apartment door has his heart trying to punch through his ribs.
He almost turns the bike around. Instead, he walks up the familiar stairs, bouquet tucked awkwardly behind his back.
Three knocks. Footsteps. Then door swings open, revealing your pretty face and soft pictures.
You blink like the statement itself caught you off guard, gently taking them from him and taking a soft smell, “They’re beautiful.”
“I, uh…” He scratches the back of his neck, “The lady at the flower shop said pink means admiration. White means sincerity.”
“…Did she?”
“Yeah.”
“…And baby’s breath?”
He deadpans, broad shoulders shrugging, “No clue.”
You laugh. God. That laugh.
He’d heard it the first night he’d met you at that tiny izakya tucked between the ramen shop and laundromat. You’d laughed because he’d apologized after accidentally bumping your shoulder while squeezing past a crowded table.
Most people recognized him, he’d made quite the name for himself in his younger years. But you didn’t know him from Adam.
You just smiled, told him not to worry about it, then stole one of his fries ten minutes later because, “You looked like you weren’t appreciating them enough.”
He hadn’t stopped thinking about you since.
“Can I come in?” he asks.
Your smile softens, stepping aside to let him into your little apartment, “Of course.”
💐🌼💐🌼💐
The flowers find a vase. You disappear into the kitchen to fill it with water while Draken stands awkwardly in your living room, hands shoved into his pockets.
You’ve only been seeing each other for a couple months. Dinner. Coffee. Late night drives in your car or on his bike, depending on the weather. A movie that neither of you actually watched because you’d spent the whole time talking. Nothing official. Nothing defined. But somewhere along the way… It stopped feeling casual.
You return, setting the flowers carefully on the coffee table, “They’re really pretty.”
“I’m glad.”
The silence that settles between you isn’t uncomfortable, but you notice how he shifts, the nerves radiating off his body, “… Ken?”
He rubs a hand over his face, “I practiced this.”
Your eyebrows lift, confused on why he’d need to practice bringing you flowers, “You practiced?”
“Couple times… this felt better when nobody was listening.”
That earns another laugh, and his expression shifts to something a bit more serious. It’s so subtle, but you feel it immediately. His shoulders square. His eyes stay on yours as he starts to actually explain, “I haven’t done this in a long time, and I didn’t think I would again.”
His voice stays steady, but quieter than usual as he watches your expression as he talks, “you know there was someone else, before, I mean.”
You nod once. He’d mentioned her before. Never in detail, really. Just enough for you to understand she’d mattered A lot to him.
“I loved her.”The words come easily to him, because they’re true, “And when she died… I figured that was it.”
He laughs once and it’s dry sounding, his making a vague gesture as he continues, “Thought maybe I’d already gotten my shot.”
You reach for his hand instinctively. He lets you, lacing your fingers together as you offer an easy comfort that he hasn’t had since Emma, “I wasn’t looking for anybody. Then I met youYou stole one of my fries with the prettiest smile I think I have ever seen.”
You grin, “And I’d do it again. You weren’t appreciating them enough.”
He shakes his head, smiling in that easy way that’s become so normal around you, “You kept talking to me.”
“I liked talking to you.”
“I noticed.”His smile fades into something softer, “Then you kept saying yes. To dates. To hanging out and doing nothing.”
The tension cracks just enough that he can breathe again. Then he steps closer. Close enough that he can see every tiny detail in your face, and each swirl of color in your eyes.
“I started looking forward to seeing you.”His voice lowers, “My day gets better when you text me. When something funny happens… you’re the first person I want to tell… and I catch myself wondering if you’ve eaten. If you’re sleeping enough. If you got home safe from work. I worry.”
You swallow, feeling his callused thumb running over fingers, your eyes flitting between his gaze, and he takes a quiet breath, “I care about you and I don’t want casual anymore.”
The words land between you with complete certainty, “I don’t want to wonder if somebody else gets to call you tomorrow and I don’t want to pretend this is just dating.”
“I want…” He shakes his head, searching for words, “Hell.”
A nervous chuckle escapes him, “I love you.”
There’s silence for a moment, his lips quirking into something tender and almost scared, “I didn’t expect it and I wasn’t planning on it. But somewhere between late-night ramen and coffee dates and listening to you tell stories that somehow always end with you nearly getting kicked out of someplace…”
You laugh through the tears already gathering in your eyes at how sweet and romantic this is, “… I fell in love with you.”
His expression turns vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen before. “If this is all too fast… I’ll wait. And If you’re scared… I get it… and If you don’t feel the same…”His jaw tightens, swallowing hard, “I’ll live.”
The lie hangs there. He’d survive. Living and surviving weren’t always the same thing though, “But if there’s even a chance…”
He lifts your joined hands, “…I’d really like to be your boyfriend.”
You stare at him. At the man who’d spent months showing you love before ever saying the word. The man who remembered your coffee order after hearing it once. Who walked on the outside of every sidewalk. Who texted ‘Made it home?’ after every date. Who fixed your squeaky apartment door because, “It was bothering me.” Who brought you flowers with shaking hands.
You smile. Then laugh. Then cry all at once, “Oh, Ken.”
Your free hand lifts to cups his cheek, “You absolute idiot.”
His stomach drops, his face following, “That’s usually not a good sign.”
“I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”
“…What?”
“I was starting to think I’d have to do it.”
He blinks, “You… what now?”
“I love you too.”
Everything inside him stops. For one suspended heartbeat, the world simply… holds still.
Then you pull him down by the front of his shirt and kiss him. It’s gentle. Warm and certain. When you finally pull away, his forehead rests against yours.
“You know,” you murmur, smiling, “you could’ve just asked me.”
He huffs out a laugh, “I know.”
“You didn’t need a speech.”
“…I definitely needed the speech.”
“The flowers would have been plenty.” You insist gently as he leans into your touch.
“…The flowers were insurance.” He informs you quietly.
“Insurance?” You question, still smiling but brows knitting together in curiosity.
“In case I sounded stupid.”
You lean in, pressing another kiss to his lips, a giggle passing between you both, “They worked.”
A rare, unguarded smile spreads across his face. The kind that reaches his eyes without hesitation.
For the first time in years, loving someone doesn’t feel like he’s betraying the past. It feels like honoring the fact that his heart had survived long enough to bloom in the face of romance again.
