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Gorgeous

A fanfiction for 'Fear of' from @sleepwalkersqueen

Note:Well... This is the last chapter:D. Was a lot of fun to write something again after such a long time. Hope you all enjoyed it and perhaps one day I might be writing something again haha<3

Big thanks to my friend who proofread every chapter for me and to everyone who read the story.

<<Last

Warnings:Swearing, mention and implied r*pe, angsty stuff(?)

Chapter 05

Shining light came through the windows of the two-story building. The white painting of the facade chipped at each edge. Ivy climbed up to the roof, shining a deep green, making the endless path of gray concrete appear more lifelike. Cats walk around silently in the early morning of Fukuoka, wandering around on the empty streets.

A messed-up futon was neatly placed in the middle of the upper-floor apartment.

A woman was entangled in the sheets, her breathing slow and steady. Light tickled her pale face, which, upon closer inspection, looked restless compared to the atmosphere.

The phone ringing made the woman cuddle closer to the bedsheets, covering her head with her pillow, hoping the noise would soon fade into the void again.

For a second, the uninvited noise stopped, and it came back not long after it left. With a loud groan, she threw the pillow and blanket to the side and picked up her phone. Her shirt hung low over her shoulder, exposing her tender skin with a fleshy looking wound that seemed to have healed oddly.

Fire idiot calling...

"Howashi speaking," she voiced tiredly, wanting to fall back into her comfy futon. Back to her sweet dreams of a life she wished for.

"You no longer have to work with Takami," Endeavour growled.

Without giving it a second, he hung up the phone. Leaving Amaya alone with the beeping sound of an ending call. She had to blink a few times to let the new information sink in.

She jumped up from her futon, calling Endeavour again.

It dialed...

"Endea-"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?" She yelled, not interested in hearing his greeting.

"Howashi, calm down. You have no reason to be this upset, now you can talk with any of the prisoners and get rid of Takami."

"Why? Is he getting-?"

"I don't know and don't care, Imawashi gets him back." The voice left no room for arguments or complaints.

But Amaya is never really one to back down too easily. Especially with injustice that.

"Imawashi?! You know what he did to Shinyo, how could a hero let something like that happen again?! He fucking rape-!"

He ended the call.

"That little-!!!" She growled.

No time was wasted and no skincare was done as she got dressed and stormed out of the house, calling the Tartarus prison repeatedly in hopes of reaching someone, she would even take Imawashi.

"Howashi-san, what can I do for you? You have your free week right now."

"Yes, I know, uhm... Listen, Endeavour told me I would be removed from B-74, but I do not see a reaso-"

"Ah yes, yes! Imawashi will be assigned to him again, so there is no need to wor-"

"You gotta be kidding me. Everyone knows what he did, why is he even allowed to go back to him?"

"Well, it is how it is. Good day, Howashi-san."

The man from the prison hung up, leaving Amaya alone with her racing mind that spiraled with an immense amount of hatred she had never felt in her life before. Especially targeted towards the number two.

"Why are you still coming?" Shinyo asked, baring his teeth.

"I like challenges," the therapist replied with a mysterious smile. Lips curling in a calculated motion—a sweet lie.

"Yeah, don't bullsh*t me."

She clenched her teeth tightly, creating an uncomfortable pain. At that moment, she was pretty lucky to not have her sharp canines anymore, having been sanded down to a more human-like shape. A decision she grew to regret but came in handy at most times.

"Where are your canines anyway?"

"Hm? Oh, they have been sanded down, and it costs a fortune to have it done."

"Aye, and why the fuck would you do that shit?"

"I told you before, never been proud of being a mutant."

-------------------------------------------------------

"Pick up, please," Amaya muttered, picking the soft skin on her fingers, feeling the negative emotions from so many years ago rising in her chest yet again.

A phrase she said more often than she ever did, 'I love you' to her ex-boyfriend. At least ever since she had a fight with Minori, her closest friend, about a situation, she was just too overwhelmed due to news from a gynecologist about her own organs.

"Fuck!" She exclaims, throwing her phone with such force to the ground that the screen breaks and a corner crumbles.

"Easy, little lady," the bartender said, wiping away a little stain from the round table. "The phone didn't hurt you."

"And neither did she, and I still acted like an ass."

"We both know you didn't, you were just overwhelmed."

"Tch... Not an excuse."

"Easy now," he said calmly. "Did you at least reach an authority from Tartarus?"

"Yes... I can come back tomorrow, but I fear it isn't soon enough." Amaya laid her head on the table, burrowing her face in her arms.

"How bad can it be?"

"With Shin? Definitely the worst, he's just like," she halted, looking up and snapping her finger. "Like a cat that wanted to be tame but got kicked one too many times."

"Ah! And are you sure it doesn't come with the fact that you have a little crush on him?"

She lifts her head back up, looking at the bartender with a forced neutral expression. "Why would you think I have a crush?"

He smirked like a cheshire cat and said, "Right, no crush, you are hopelessly in love with Takami the thief otherwise, you would not have dumped your boyfriend."

Amaya pursed her lips. As much as she wasn't the biggest fan of admitting her feelings for Shinyo out loud, no one fools a bartender. "Perhaps I am," she sighed. "That was not how I wanted it to end, but here we are."

The bartender chuckled, a kind chuckle with no judgment behind it. "You'll learn from this."

Of course that was the line he would say. Because all advice was a circle. The same repetitive phrases for every single crisis in life. No matter how much truth it held, it would never be advice with an actual solution. Empty, hollow promises.

With a forced smile and the corners of her lips forming into a calculated smile with no wrinkles, she said, “Of course." Her voice sounded sincere and kind, but hollow.

With this, she chugs down her pink lady, pushing herself up from the creaky chair. her steps clicking on the floor as she gets behind the stage and into the rooms for the performers. Even though it would be hours before the Pink cavern would open, the backstage area was filled to the brim with various women and men. Noticeably more mutants.

She followed her way through to one of her private dressing rooms. A small room that smelled of various perfumes and deodorants.

The room was an eyesore. Costumes, accessories, and various props are all scattered across the small room. The makeup table was overflowing with different containers of various cremes, paints, and oils. Glitter containers are spilling over because they have been knocked over. The walls looked like they belonged in 1920.

Overall, the room looked like it belonged to a child or, worse, a hoarder who never got any help and died in the chaos.

A click echoed through the silent room, and the door closed. Amaya sat down in the creaky chair, creating a skin-crawling noise that made her shiver in response.

Her eyes lost the arrogant glimmer. Her posture didn’t scream confidence. With the worry gnawing at her brain and heart, she felt like she was unable to relax until she made sure Shinyo was relatively safe, not like other methods weren't just as bad as Imawashi.

“How's the boyfriend doing?” Shinyo asked, grinning like a dog.

“Hm? Why?"

“Ahh, you know." Just curious since your cheek doesn’t look like you just came from wrestling.

Amaya rolled her eyes. “Haha, very funny,” she said, unimpressed.

“You should dump him.”

“And you shouldn't marry someone you just met.”

“Aye too late for that, and my death has already separated us.”

Sweet memories that are actually not sweet. They all share one thing, and that is a trust that was built on pillars of loose sand. Hauntingly sweet in dreams and the day.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Sky blue.

If there was more beautiful scenery, Amaya wouldn't know her. The wind was cold on her fair skin, and her jacket was barely able to keep her form warm. Strawberry-blonde hair is whipping through the sea wind.

Brown wings carry her through to her destination, an island inhabiting the most dangerous criminals the world has ever known.

Face filled with nothing but pure anxiety.

As she entered the facility, greeting some colleagues here and there., she stormed through to the changing rooms. Locking her bag away along with her jacket, which for some reason was drenched with sea water, made it smell salty and unwelcoming.

“I know you don't want to talk about it, but... I really don't want to trust some videos and, excuse me for my language, an asshole who deserves to be locked away more than you.”

“You are always a charmer,” Shinyo said, his muscles tensing. “Why should I tell you something you already know?”. After so much time has passed and the lack of humanity inside this hellhole except for one singular person, even Takami Shinyo has a hard time not dwelling in the comfort, especially since every second could be his last.

Sometimes he wondered what happened to the comforting face of his Nitsuki, his wife, his love of his life. Having long forgotten what the shape of her face or smell was, he couldn't even remember the last memory they shared together.

All replaced by an image of a woman he should hate and distrust. Sky blue siren eyes that only lost their spark twice since they met. Blonde hair that has this rich rose gold shimmer when the cold light hits it, appearing warm and comforting. The smell of fresh air and newly washed clothes hanging in the summer breeze filled his nose whenever she entered the room. How he longed for her touch. The memory of his breakdown turned into a happy incident whenever he remembered how close he was to her, the warmth of her body pressing into him. Her fingers brushing through his sticky, unkempt hair.

And her heartbeat.

He never heard a heartbeat so intact with every emotion on display. How her lips spoke the truth, gently leading him away. A song and perhaps a sweet little lie weaved into her every word that he clung onto like a stray.

Every step that felt like running through a forest made her heart race faster. Breathing, something always so calm and natural, felt like a task Amaya wished to discard to someone more suitable for the job. Her eyes were scanning through every boring detail in halls and doors, especially the doors. Opening them as fast as possible, not fearing if there might be an alarm to set off if you work through the doors too quickly.

The silence in the small cell was calming. You could hear a small scratching of a pen on paper and the breathing of two people.

The man, Takami Shinyo, studied the face of his assigned therapist, Howashi Amaya. Noticing that despite all odds and his general sense of self-protection, she was indeed a beauty, many would lick their fingers to even talk to her, she was somehow familiar. A face made for a superstar. The best part for him, which didn’t include her appearance, was that she was incredibly smart at times and had a talent she didn’t use.

But her eyes…

Her eyes are sky blue.

It felt strangely empty in Tartarus—too empty. There are no guards patrolling, even most of the cameras seem to be forgotten. How strange.

The deeper Amaya went down, the more the prison felt like a lost place. Not even a sound from anyone could be heard. No talking, grunting, or even screams.

Reaching the correct level, a scream, shudder running down the spine of Amaya, a scream haunting her dreams just like all the images from every photo and recording she had to endure. Then followed silence.

With featherlight steps, stop in front of the big iron door. Her heart felt like a machine that had been running for a decade without any maintenance.

When the door burst open after several minutes, Amaya was promptly run over by a bloody and heaving animal… In reality, it was not an animal but Shinyo. Pressing his slightly taller body into her. Hands covered in blood and pupils as small as sandcorn.

Shinyo stared down at a wide-eyed Amaya. Listening to her heartbeat like he never had before, she was scared—a simple observation.

Cautiously, to not cause her more stress than necessary, he gently placed his blood covered hand on her cheek. Her skin was hot, and blood stayed out like a thorn on her skin. In secret desire, Shinyo found it to be incredibly hot to look at her like this, if he could ignore her damn heartbeat.

“Your eyes are really pretty, like the sky-”

"Sky,” they say in unison.

“Say no, and I'll stop, '' Shinyo whispered. Leaning closer into Amaya, he presses his body weight even more into her, trapping her. Ever so gently, his chapped and bruised lips touched hers. A pang of guilt spread in him, which he immediately stomped out like a fire, considering what happened earlier.

Her lips tasted like…

Like her. Nothing compared to anything he has ever tasted before, and it was just perfect. Soft lips and even softer skin. Able to smell more than her usual freshly washed clothes in the summer scent. No, he was able to smell even the smaller scents now. The paper and ink, the salty sea, the smell of a burlesque bar.

How could a woman he knew for five years now be so perfect in every way, even though her flaws are so evident? So infuriating, even.

A hunger like never before spread across Shinyo, clouding his mind. Abandoning her lips to kiss along her neck. One hand is going behind her neck, the other roaming over her body. A sweet yelp along with a sharp inhale left her lips—a sweet sound he wanted to hear more of.

“Shinyo”

He didn't hear.

“Shinyo!”

He didn’t stop.

"Takami!” she tried again. “Stop!". Her hands were already trying to push him away, he didn't even move an inch.

This time, though, he stopped. Looking down at her with big eyes.

“I... we... we shouldn't,” she said with a shaking voice. Gasping for air, cheeks flushed a pale pink.

Her rib cage moved in a calm pattern. Drawing in Shinyo's gaze as his foggy brain tried to analyze her words.

But once his brain finally connected the dots, he hovered over her in a more appropriate way, if that was even possible considering he basically just tried to eat her.

She started feeling another surge of fear crawling into her brain. She felt like she should have just let it happen, endured the pain, and don't complain. Who knows what he might do to her? After all, just because he didn't kill her now doesn-

A quick look inside the cell made her blood freeze. The fact that Shinyo immediately pushed her face away from the scene was just a second too late.

Lifeless eyes and a gory horror scene one hopes would never see.

“Don't look,” he said with a serious voice. “You shouldn't have to see that”

“I-is that Imawashi?”

“He was”

Amaya closed her eyes. Letting her thoughts ramble for any kind of solution or excuse. Calming her heartbeat by the second she chose one of her hopefully not so regrettable decisions.

“My ID is in my coat, the code is 54782.”

He stared down at her, not even sure if what he heard was the truth. Did Amaya really tell him the code for the door? Let alone, he needed an ID.

“I know the longer code, don't worry about me and go. Through all the green doors you see, until you can decide which elevator, take the one in the corner that looks way too old to be allowed in here.

There was no goodbye. Just a mutant with gorgeous red wings leaving the prison.

The highest security prison in the world.

He escaped Tartarus, a place no one leaves alive.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Glittering highlighter was dabbed onto her skin with a soft and puffy brush. A golden shimmer was left behind, like expensive jewelry.

The show outfit resembled a typical burlesque outfit, with feathers and gold. A corset fit snuggly on her upper body, displaying what little she had to offer.

Amaya moved into position, ready for the show to start.

The curtains opened, and the first people to recognize her cheered instantly. The music, along with the choreographed movements, burned into her brain like nothing else. A message she needed to bring out into the world, hoping that one day it might be different again. The problem holding her longer captive than those red eyes she can't remove from her mind.

“You should take it as a compliment

If I were you, I would be more confident

You're lucky that you're pretty

Why are you obsessed with your appearance?

I don't wanna hear it, you're fine

It's been my best-kept secret for a while now

No one ever sees it, but it's all around

It's the dinner conversation no one talks about

Don't know how much longer I can keep this down

Beauty is a knife I've been holding by the blade

Swallowing my pride so I won't eat anything

It's all a lie, honestly, it's eating me alive

They're all like

"Did you change your hair?"

"Did you lose a little weight?"

"You should keep it up 'cause it really looks great"

I hate that I always look my best

When I'm dying on the inside

I wish I could break the mirror

That makes me feel like I should fucking disappear

And drown my demons in a bathtub filled with tears

No matter what I try, they always seem to come back to life

What if I didn't do this to my body?

What if I quit and then you don't want me?

The dinner conversation no one talks about

Don't know how much longer I can keep this down

Beauty is a knife I've been holding by the blade

Swallowing my pride so I won't eat anything

It's all a lie, honestly, it's eating me alive

They're all like

"Did you change your hair?"

"Did you lose a little weight?"

"You should keep it up 'cause it really looks great"

I hate that I always look my best

When I'm dying on the inside

You should take it as a compliment

If I were you, I would be more confident

You're lucky that you're pretty

Why are you obsessed with your appearance?

I don't wanna hear it, you're fine

Beauty is a knife I've been holding by the blade

Swallowing my pride so I won't eat anything

It's all a lie, honestly, it's eating me alive

They're all like

"Did you change your hair?"

"Did you lose a little weight?"

"You should keep it up 'cause it really looks great"

I hate that I always look my best

When I'm dying on the inside”

Applause held a feeling that should have its own word. It brings joy, a confirmation for the artist that whatever was presented was enjoyable.

It had been a long time since Amaya has been able to enjoy the praise. No longer was there this bitter aftertaste like before.

With lots of air kisses and waving the audience goodbye, she left the stage. Feeling the afterglow of the performance in the air. All the other artists started to compliment her.

She quickly made her way back to her room, discarding the sweat drenched costume in a corner. Putting on a tight fitting black dress, a cutout in the front.

In a silence that, of course, was filled with chatter from the outside, she calmed down in peace. But the peace was not meant for long because Amaya remembered something. Endeavour, along with any trace of Shinyo, was missing. Minori never answered her phone as well. Amaya was so desperate at that point that she even tried to contact Harima, Minoris' husband.

But nothing.

Amaya scratched her neck. This was way too stressful for an outsider. But she wasn't an outsider, it was her fault since the beginning of all that happened. She should have never gotten involved with a criminal in the first place.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in,” she said.

The nice bartender opened the door, having an apologetic smile. “Sorry to interrupt, but someone wants to see you.”

She tilted her head. Since there was no other choice but to find out who wanted to see her, Amaya decided it would be best to just get to this someone. In secret, she hoped it was Shinyo, Minori, or even Endeavour.

When she entered the bar, it was strangely empty. Less than a handful of people.

Walking over to the bar, where a tall man with a white suit was standing beside him. Leaning against the counter, she looks up to him.

“You wanted to see me?" she said. As he looked down on her she could tell something inside her told her to run away.

“Yes, you are Howashi Amaya, correct?”

“That's me”

“Say… Do you know Takami Shinyo?”

“... Why?”

“It is just that I would like to talk to him, even if you don't know where he is right now, I still like to know what the bird sang in prison.”

He is dangerous.

“I don't know him,” Amaya said as soon as she came to the conclusion.

“Huh,” he hummed. He placed his hand in a caressing way on her forearm. “And here I thought you worked with him, as his therapist in Tartarus.”

“I-” She can't move.

“How about we talk in private, yeah? I am sure you won't mind singing for me,” he chuckled, adding one last thing “How rude of me, little lady, My name is Junto, and don't worry, you will not forget.”

#THIS #LOVE ❤️😭#I wanted to do fanart of this but I fell asleep T^T </3 #this means a lot to me #kckkgjew brah #thank you T^T #fear of you #incredible #may still do fanart bc this makes me feel some sort of way if you know what I mean T^T #god <3

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