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anonymousewrites · 1 year

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There's a Will; There's a Way (Book 4) Chapter One

Dazai Osamu x Fem! Reader

Chapter One: Emergency Government Request

Summary: The Armed Detective Agency is offered a new job, but several members have some misgivings.

Mouse Note: This will be spoilers for BSD Season 4! So be warned! Also, I am aware that I have already posted this fic, but I wanted to repost after Season 4 Part 1 appeared, so I'll be posting all my chapters that cover those episodes again. My other stories will continue as regular, this will just have daily updates to get the Bungou Stray Dogs fic some daylight.

“Really, I’m fine,” said Akira. “You can stop worrying, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) watched as her friend repolished the same glass for a fifth time. “Yeah…Sure.”

“I’m totally fine. I’m just restless since I haven’t had any fun work recently,” continued Akira. “I don’t think about Chu—him at all.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow.

“Okay…maybe from time to time. But it’s no big deal. I’m doing fine,” said Akira.

“So you keep saying, but I still think you’re lying,” insisted (Y/N). Her eyes softened. “I’ve seen the hat. You kept it.”

Akira eyes fell to the ground. “I just…I just need to get back to work. That’s all.” She switched back to her usual attitude. “Speaking of which, I need to prepare for happy hour. Always get good business then.”

(Y/N) sighed. “Fine. But this isn’t over,” she warned.

“Just bring me any interesting work you get,” said Akira.

(Y/N) reluctantly stood up as her phone lit up with a message from Kunikida telling her to come to a meeting. “I will, but please…think about what you need. It’s okay to have feelings.”

Akira just returned to polishing.

(Y/N) walked into the Agency and headed towards the meeting room.

“(Y/N)!” chirped Dazai, hugging her from behind. He pecked her on the cheek. “You’ve arrived!”

(Y/N) smiled and turned around in his arms so she was facing him. “You have a lot of energy,” she teased.

“I’m going out to have fun,” said Dazai.

“We have a meeting,” she reminded him.

“Bo-ring. And you’ll fill me in!” said Dazai.

“If you listen,” said (Y/N).

“I always listen to you.” Dazai looked into her eyes adoringly.

(Y/N) blushed. “I-I’ve got to get to the meeting. Have fun skipping.”

“Will do.”

Dazai leaned in and kissed her. (Y/N) closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment, even though a burdening feeling clenched her heart. Afterwards, Dazai squeezed her hand and began to walk away.

“Dazai,” called (Y/N).

He turned back to her curiously.

“I love you.” She wasn’t sure why, but it felt important to say it then. That same heaviness she felt during the kiss was still there.

Dazai smiled. “I love you, too.” He said it with none of his usual pomp and circumstance. It was totally serious and full of emotions. With those words, he was out the door, reading to avoid another day of work.

(Y/N) walked into the meeting room and nodded to Kunikida in greeting as she sat down and opened the file in front of her. She was glad Kunikida was back. After the little girl died because of Fyodor’s manipulation, he had been held under suspicion of murder until all of the evidence showed he was innocent. It had worried the Agency for a bit, but luckily, it blew over. Additionally, they were concerned about (Y/N) being suspected, but because she was kidnapped, she was acquitted of suspicion.

(Y/N) focused on the file. It was on several murders that occurred in the last week, probably conducted by a group of individuals.

“A murder society?” asked Yosano, the first to speak.

“Yeah. It’s an emergency request from the government,” said Kunikida. “First, look at these photos of the victims.” He attached the photo of a man who had been skinned to the board.

“Oh, god,” murmured (Y/N).

“That’s terrible,” breathed Atsushi.

“He was a young Diet member from Yokohama. He left a session midway only yo be found five minutes later in this state,” explained Kunikida. “As you can see, his skin was removed from the waist up and then placed back on inside out. This skin was sewn together like a business shirt, complete with a tie and cuffs. Based on the throat lacerations and restraint marks, the victim was alive for the flaying…likely screaming his head off.”

“Talk about bad taste,” muttered Yosano.

“That’s horrible,” murmured (Y/N). “To be alive during something like that…”

“The perp has carried out four murders this week,” said Kunikida.

“Four?!” cried Jun’ichiro.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. She could hardly imagine how gory the other deaths must have been.

“The vice-commander of the coast guard had a corrosive poison poured over his head that melted his skins and bones. He died of shock from intense pain,” continued Kunikida. “The secretary of the government’s chief of international public safety had an air compressor hose inserted into his mouth, and the high-pressure air blasted the blood and nerves out of his pores. Finally, a top-level officer in the military police’s special-ability crime unit was injected with a painful south American plant called ‘suicide weed’ and left in a locked room. He scratched at his skin down to the bones and died from cerebral contusion after having bashed his head against the wall.”

Definitely wasn’t picturing that…thought (Y/N).

“I see…so it’s a message from the Decay of the Angel,” said Ranpo.

The corners of (YN)’s mouth twitched into a frown at the word “angel.” After the ordeal with Fyodor, she couldn’t quite face it as she used to. Now, whenever (Y/N) heard it, she could hear him saying it.

“ ‘The Decay of the Angel?’ ” asked Atsushi.

“The ‘Decay of the Angel.’ It refers to the five signs of decline within the devas or beings who reside in the highest realm of existence,” explained Fukuzawa, appearing in the meeting room.

“President,” greeted the Agency members politely.

“Sign one, ‘soiled dress’—clothes that emit an oily filth. Sign two, a ‘wilted flower crown’—the fading a rotting of the wreath on the head. Sign three, ‘malodor’—an evil stench from the body. Sign four, ‘sudor’—sweating under the armpits,” explained Fukuzawa.

The young Diet member, the vice-commander of the coast guard, the secretary of the government’s chief of international public safety, and the office from the military police’s special-ability crime, respectively, thought (Y/N) as each sign was announced.

“So…all these flashy, bizarre crimes allude to that?” asked Jun’ichiro.

“Wait…if there are five signs, then—!” (Y/N) looked up in alarm.

“Right,” said Kunikida.

“The fifth sign—the ‘wretched seat’— hasn’t occurred yet,” said Fukuzawa.

“Then the killer will strike one more time?!” cried Atsushi.

“They will not.” Fukuzawa looked at the detectives seriously. “Why? Because we are going to stop them. We must bind together as one to stop this heinous group’s plans.”

“I don’t think so,” said Ranpo grimly.

“Ranpo…state your reason,” said Fukuzawa.

“My friend’s last words.” Ranpo could recall perfectly the foreboding prediction his friend had made. This was undoubtedly the large mission that would destroy them all. “I’m turning this job down.” Ranpo was deadly serious.

(Y/N) bit her lip. I trust Ranpo’s judgement. He sees what we cannot. But…I want to help people, no matter the cost to myself.

“Ranpo. Did you see the birch bow in my office? It’s a once-in-a-century honor for keepers of the peace,” said Fukuzawa, frowning at Ranpo’s words.

“So we have to take this because some guy gave us a bow?” Ranpo scoffed. “No. That bow…is merely a piece of wood.”

His statement shocked his colleagues.

“To us, praise and rewards are a light drizzle. Even if we were underground thieves with no honor, we must stake our lives to prevent this murder,” declared Fukuzawa.

Ranpo slammed his fists down on the table as he stood. “Fine! Do whatever you want!” he yelled, turning on his heel and leaving the room.

Whatever he thinks is going to happen must be really terrible if he’s lashing out at the president, thought (Y/N). It certainly doesn’t bode well…

“Ranpo!” exclaimed Kunikida.

“Leave him be, Kunikida,” said the silver-haired man. “The Agency will pursue the killer, and Ranpo will investigate the Agency’s potential destruction. Even Ranpo knows a two-pronged approach is best.”

Kunikida nodded. “We all need to start looking into possible targets and suspects in the killing.”

If solving this case efficiently can help the Agency, then I’ll work my hardest. (Y/N) was determined to succeed.

“All right. Call me when you have any information. Bye, Akira.” (Y/N) ended the phone call. Akira was excited to be getting some work. She’s still trying to distract herself…

“It must be nice to have a contact,” said Atsushi, walking alongside her. “Even if she can be kind of scary…” Atsushi sweat-dropped as he recalled the Mukurotoride incident.

(Y/N) chuckled at his reaction before taking out her phone again as it began to ring. “Hello?”

“It’s Ango from the Special Division. I can’t contact Dazai. Do you know where he is?”

“No, I don’t,” said (Y/N), frowning. I hope Dazai hasn’t gotten himself into trouble… She motioned for Atsushi to come closer so he could listen to. This was obviously important.

“Then tell this to everyone at the Agency—We have evidence that someone within the government altered the security details and work schedules of all the murder victims on the days they were killed,” said Ango grimly.

Atsushi and (Y/N)’s eyes widened in alarm.

“The killers are part of the government?” questioned (Y/N), furrowing her brow. This certainly makes things more complicated.

“That…or given the lack of leads despite our best efforts, the Decay of the Angel may be a front for some government group,” said Ango. “Either way, be careful.” He hung up.

Atsushi opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly a voice said, “Hello there!” An older man with glasses and a suit stood in front of them.

“You’re from the Ministry of Justice…” Atsushi recognized him from when Fukuzawa had received the birch bow.

“You two are members of the Agency, yes? You must be tired, working on a Sunday like this,” said the man. “How is the ‘Decay of the Angel’ investigation going?”

Something about his tone and smile put (Y/N) immediately on edge.

“We’re working through some—,” Atsushi started.

(Y/N) cut him off. “No leads so far, but I assure you we’re doing our best.” Best not to let any government official know anything we’re up to.

“Oh, what a shame. Who were you talking to?” asked the official.

“My boyfriend. He’s trying to surprise me with a gift I’d like, but he’s not being very sneaky about find out what I want,” said (Y/N) jokingly. “What are you doing out here in the city? Isn’t it dangerous right now?”

“Oh, I was just over there enjoying my coffee until I saw you.” He gestured to some tables outside a café. “I thought I’d ask about how the Agency was coming along.”

There is no coffee cup on any of the tables…He’s lying. (Y/N) kept a smile on her face but glanced over at Atsushi. She could see he was on edge as well but not hiding it as well as she did.

“What is it?” asked the official.

“He’s just concerned about the case, of course. The stress can get to us. Speaking of which, we should be getting back to work,” said (Y/N), grabbing Atsushi’s arm and steering him away quickly.

“(Y/N), he was lying!” whispered Atsushi urgently. “I smelled no coffee on him.”

“I know, we need to get back to the Agency. I have a bad feeling…” (Y/N) bit her lip and hurried onward. No matter how fast she was, however, she couldn’t escape the sinking feeling in her stomach. And she wouldn’t be able to escape what would happen next.

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v5hadow · 1 year

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WIP Wednesday

Royal Strikers: Day 2 scene 2

'Day 2' is a mess and a lot of that is since I apparently am saying no to posting the actual start of the chapter right now, since this section was apparently completed in backwards order for scenes. That and half the week was spent on trying to understand AO3's work skins. I'll be testing them over the next couple weeks to see if I got it down. However as such Day 2 Scene 1 just isn't ready in any capacity. It's got filler text so i know what goes where and the goal in spots 1-7. boohoo, its mostly fluff and I already have a preplanned date for starting to post chapters to AO3, especially since we are starting to get to the point where I don't have as extensive of additions needed to be made to the edits. All the important bit for this from d2s1 is that Yuuki will be busy for reasons the next 2 days if things stay according to his schedule. Thus him being at work.

Yuuki was spending his dinner break in the mostly empty break room, seated and mostly playing with his phone. He had already spent most of it replying to a handful of texts from his friends, though it was strangely quiet on the ex-Phantom Thieves’ chat. He was going through some of the most recent conversations between the moderators for the last few minutes before he needed to be back on the floor.

Just after sending a comment for Matters and Lancelot to stop bickering, Yuuki’s phone began to chime its ringtone for a saved number. The admin answered the phone without really looking at who was calling.

“Hello, this is Mishima.”

There was a bit of a laugh on the other line before they went straight to the point with a “So I’ve got good news and bad news.”

“Huh, Akira?” Yuuki took a second to pull the phone from his ear to look at the number again before asking, “Are you seriously calling me from LaBlanc’s phone?”

“Yeah, Morgana has my phone right now. But I really needed to talk to you.”

That was all Yuuki needed to hear to start moving away from the door and his other coworker hanging out around the break room. He gave a bit of a hum as he moved until asking, “Do you have my number memorized?”

“Yes?” Akira seemed a bit bewildered by that question.

“Seriously? I’m surprised,” Yuuki said with a bit of wonder; he got a pleased hum back in response. He then remembered about the oddities of the conversation before moving to his actual question, “Is it PT things?”

“Yeah, sorta? So Ryuji, Morgana and I-“

Yuuki cut Akira off, “I hate to stop you, especially since I don’t normally get the story from you, but I’m only on break right now. Cliff notes version Aki.”

“Tomorrow for curry and cuddles for the longer story?”

“Yeah, sounds perfect”

“Okay…” Akira took an audible breath before seeming to rattle off a list of things. “Camping trip has been put on hold. EMMA has something weird going on with it that can pull people into some version of the Metaverse. We just got back from rumor hunting. Most will continue that tomorrow but Ann, Morgana, and I are going to the Tv studio. ‘Hottest Celebrities’ or whatever.”

Yuuki laughed at the blundered detail. “More than butchered that title but I’m familiar since that was the easiest way for me to watch our birdbrained detective.”

“Aww. I’m sorry we aren’t as photogenic as him,” Akira tried to tease before he fell into a more serious tone. “But we are going to see Alice Hiiragi. From some rumors, be careful if you insult her to a fan’s face.”

“I’ll try if you don’t pick up any murderers this time.”

“If something happened, do you think you’d be able to work with him?”

“Akechi?” Yuuki blinked, surprised with the direction his boyfriend’s thoughts went. “Probably. Rather not, but if I understand most of what happened after New Year like I think I do, I’d likely be in the same boat you were. Minimal trust except where our goals overlap. You know, assuming he’s alive still.”

“Pretty positive he is and can’t ask for much better than that.”

“Now I love you, and I’m so glad none of us are dead… Wait, no one died, right?”

“I think I’d lead with that.”

“You MIGHT lead with that.” “Everyone is fine for the most part. At worst, just some bruises.”

“Good enough. I have to go back to work. Stay safe Aki.”

“I’ll try.”

#persona 5 #p5 #amamiya akira #mishima yuuki #royal strikers #4.2/?#actually it has a new name now #but I'll bring that up once I'm posting on ao3 #which is like the first week of june #if you know the game well enough you might know what's odd here #shuyuu #its 3am and im feeling grumpy now sadly

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weuschoiceheart · 3 years

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⋘I-Land (OT9) / Enhypen⋙ Love, I-Land

A special collection of stories, for a special group of boys...Happy anniversary to eggies, it’s been a year since I-Land announced the first batch of trainees, a year since we all dive into this roller coaster ride of a show.

~ Inspired by Taylor Swift’s love songs ~

Tagging: @mari-kigold @akira-star @affectionaterainoflove @enhypenthusiast @periwinkle-ink

Warning: suggestive in K’s part (just a brief makeout session), angsty in some parts BUT there’s fluff to make up for it, cursing (literally all my works have curse words in them, I can’t write without making the characters curse at least once lmao)

Word Count: 6k+

K - Wildest Dreams ; passionate love

You didn’t know how you two ended up like this.

It was just a simple school project, and you’ve told yourself it was going to be nothing more than that. That's what you kept repeating in your head, over and over again as you called him over. Yet in your heart, you knew you just wanted him all over you again, even if it’s just temporary, even though you knew it would tear you apart.

Nothing lasts forever...but this is gonna take me down.

You shouldn’t be doing this.

You shouldn’t be making out with the school’s enigma, you shouldn’t have invited him to your house in the first place, knowing it would end up like this, with your lips latched onto his. You shouldn’t be reciprocating the kiss, his mouth hot against yours, one hand tangled in your shirt to bring you ever closer, the other wrapped tight around your waist that you knew it would leave bruises. And most of all, you shouldn’t be enjoying this as his lips moved down your neck, his warm breath tickling your sweet spot, tongue flicking over your collarbone.

Because you knew this moment would be your last, before he disappears and leaves you with a gaping hole in your heart.

K finally pulls away, panting slightly as he tilts his head, a cute gesture that doesn’t match the smirk on his face. “Your lips are so red.”

Bringing a hand up to touch them, you knew they were swollen from the amount of times he bit and nipped at them. Your eyes flicked to his, before looking away. “Well, so are yours.”

K studied you for a bit, his gaze searching, making you feel suddenly small under his glare. What is he thinking? After a moment, he lets go of you, standing up and straightening out his shirt. “I’m going to go. See you tomorrow.”

And suddenly, you felt that panicky feeling in your chest again, and the fear came rushing back. You don’t know if you’ll see him tomorrow, or ever again. Those were just casual words, something to say instead of “goodbye,” because some part of you, maybe it was just wishful thinking, hopes he feels the same. But K isn’t like that. He’s like the autumn breeze that comes and goes, before sending your life into winter without his presence. He never abides by the rules, and floats in that gray area in between, where your relationship with him also lies.

You knew what you were getting into when you kissed him on the rooftop that day, knew that it would only cause you pain. You don’t want your time with him, all these passionate moments of love, to disappear until you can only recall them in your wildest dreams.

Your body reacts before you can think, grabbing his arm as he turned to the door. He stiffened in your grasp, but didn’t make an effort to break away.

“Stay, please.” You mentally curse your voice for sounding so weak, the hand on his arm trembling.

K turned around to face you again, his cold, calculating eyes softening as they met your uncertain ones. His arm finally relaxed, and he sat down again.

“Alright.”

Heeseung - Superstar ; idol love

“I swear to god, why aren’t they picking up?” you tapped your phone in frustration, frowning. As if on cue, a message lit up your screen, and you opened it, curious to see the reason behind your friend’s unresponsiveness.

Sorry, I won’t be able to make it to the concert. I’m working on a project with K.

“K, huh?” you shook your head at your friend’s words. “Aren’t they afraid that he’ll break their heart? Project, my ass.”

Sighing, you pocketed your phone. There’s not much you can do to convince them that their relationship with K was only going to hurt them, but you couldn’t stop the two from having their hands all over each other, ever since your friend came to you screeching about their first kiss on the school rooftop. Like some romantic K-drama where a bad boy falls for the good girl.

Well, not like your love life is any better....

You shook your head, deciding to push these thoughts out of your head and go enjoy your school’s spring concert by yourself. At least you’ll be able to stare at Heeseung all you want without your friend teasing you.

A small twinge of sadness echoed in your chest at the thought of Heeseung, but you quickly pushed that out of your mind. You weren’t here just for him, of course. Youngbin and Geonu were doing a duet, Seon had a sexy solo that he’s been bragging about for weeks, and Nicholas, Jaeho, and the rest of their dance team prepared a special stage as well. So no, as much as you like spending most of the time ogling Heeseung, you were there to support your friends, have a good time off from your studies, and ignoring these annoying fangirls that always surround him—

Yeah, right. You knew it all circles back to Heeseung eventually.

Kicking at some pebbles on the ground, you sighed and realized that the guards were about to close the entrance doors soon. Joining the queue of parents and students, you handed your ticket to the theater teacher (who fixed you with a scrutinizing stare, perhaps remembering you as that problematic theater student she took under her wing a few years ago) and entered the auditorium. The lights dimmed, and the show began.

You screamed yourself hoarse during the performances, cheering on your friends (turns out Seon’s performance did live up to the epic stage he was talking about, you saw the girls—and some boys—practically drooling), and the thought of Heeseung left your mind. Until the final encore, that is, when he and Geonu took center stage to cover “Butterfly” by BTS.

Your eyes widened as he started singing, heart racing a million miles per hour. A smile unconsciously made its way onto your face, and your breath caught in your throat as his eyes flickered over the audience. As if reading your mind, they landed on you, leaving you breathless. Please notice me...oh my god, his eyes are so pretty....

“Did you see that? He made eye contact with me!” the girl beside you squealed, and the moment was gone. The smile wiped off your face, and you turned to her, seeing her beaming at the same boy you were looking at before. Your gaze broke away to scan the masses of people staring at the boys on stage with love-struck expressions on their faces, and suddenly you just feel...alone. Some part of your heart broke, and it was like reality struck you across your face.

You were just another wide-eyed fan desperately in love with a superstar who doesn’t even know your name.

That revelation followed you outside after the concert ended, and as if the weather understands your thoughts, it had started pouring outside. Rummaging around in your bag, only to come up empty, you gulped down your tears and resolved to walk home without an umbrella. Damn it, you should’ve come prepared!

Well, you can’t really prepare for heartbreak, can you?

You hadn’t gone two paces however, when you felt something opening up above you, and turning, you almost had a heart attack upon seeing Heeseung standing beside you. He held an umbrella over you both, his eyes darting from you to the ground, a small blush painted across his cheeks. He seemed fidgety, unlike the confident boy on stage moments ago, and you’re left speechless. An awkward silence passed between you two, before he cleared his throat.

“You’re really cute—I mean, you’re Y/N from my research class, right?” You nodded, internally screaming at the fact that he just called you cute. “I...I, um, I saw you didn’t have an umbrella and it’s really pouring out here, so uh-” he laughed nervously, a small grin forming on his lips as he stared at you expectedly. “Do you want to share?”

Jake - Fearless ; first love

“Bleh, sappy couples,” you shook your head, wrinkling your nose at the scene in front of you. Then again, everyone basically called you and Jake a sappy couple, so you really shouldn’t be saying anything.

Speaking of Jake, you caught him running down the road towards you, his umbrella jostling over his head. Laughing to yourself, you watched as the umbrella caught on another, then got tangled in a whole mess of umbrellas. Jake quickly disentangled his from the rest, apologizing profusely to the party of concert-goers who only shook their heads and motioned for him to go. Giving them a slight nod, he ran up to you, thankfully with no further mishaps, stumbling to a stop in front of you.

“Hi,” he said breathlessly, beaming at you. You swear every time you look at him, it was like falling for him all over again. Despite the cold and the rain, the feeling spread all over you and you felt suddenly warm and fuzzy.

“Let’s go.” You grabbed his hand, and he tucked you under the umbrella, arm wrapped around your waist. The two of you began walking home. “How was the concert?”

“Amazing, though I still wish you got to perform,” you snuggled up to his side, unable to keep a smile off your face. Jake sighed, somewhat regretfully.

“You know I have to work overtime this week, or I won’t be able to pay the rent for the apartment.”

“I know, I know.” You turned to him, eyeing the dark bags under his eyes. “You look exhausted....hey, you should’ve gone home to rest, not come out in the rain to pick me up. You can catch a cold—”

“I don’t want you to walk home by yourself after dark, it’s too dangerous,” Jake interrupted. He grinned at you, and you felt like your heart was gonna melt. Is this what love feels like? Then I’m glad that he’s my first.

The two of you were almost home, when you realized that you were approaching the abandoned parking lot near your house. An idea struck you then, and you suddenly grabbed Jake’s hand, startling him out of his rant about the shitty customer at the cafe.

“Come on, let’s dance in the rain.”

“Huh?” Jake’s eyebrows knit into a frown. “Weren’t you worried about catching a cold a few minutes ago?”

You shook your head, a cheeky grin on your face. Your heartbeat quickened, a shot of adrenaline rushing through you. You weren’t usually like this, but you thought back to the shows you watched, and well, first love means trying something new, right? “The rain is letting up Jake, we’ll be fine. Please?”

A flicker of doubt crossed his face, and you thought he was going to say no, before he nodded and closed the umbrella. You let out a gasp as the cool drops hit your face, and a loud squeal when Jake grabbed your hand and twirled you around the parking lot.

You thought this only existed in movies, but it’s all real. You’re dancing with the love of your life, fearlessly, in the middle of a rain shower. His hands clasped around your waist, a wide smile stretching from ear to ear as you grabbed onto his shoulders and he lifted you off your feet, like the ballroom dances in these old fashioned films. The wind whistled in your ears, the rain splashing on the sidewalk sounds like music. You couldn’t stop laughing, and neither can he, and you knew you were going to remember this moment for the rest of your life.

However, your strength gave out after a while, and the two of you stood there, swaying side to side. At this point, you couldn’t care that your clothes are wet and sticking to your skin, and you lean your forehead against Jake’s. He giggled, small droplets of water trailing down from his soaked hair. And he slowly leans in, the distance between you two shortening, your hands begin to shake as your breath quickens.

Is he going to—?

Sensing your nervousness, he grabbed one of your hands in his, pulling you in. You felt a little more brave as you tugged at the front of his shirt in your other hand, and connected your lips, at last.

It’s a first kiss, it’s flawless, really something, it’s fearless.

Jay - Ours ; long distance love

Lucky Jake, you muttered to yourself, sighing as you rested your head on the counter. He doesn’t have to deal with stupid customers at this time, and at least he has more experience with people yelling at him. Or maybe you’re just jealous that he has someone to hang out with, go on dates with, and laugh by his side.

You smiled sadly to yourself and took out your phone, opening the photo gallery. You felt a pang of nostalgia and wistfulness as you clicked on the first photo of you and Jay. It was from your date at the shopping mall, where Jay had chosen several outfits and forced you to try them on. It was a time where you had let your insecurities get the best of you, and Jay was having none of it. The photo was of him hugging you after you tried on one of the outfits he picked out.

You look beautiful, you can hear him say. Stunning, amazing, don’t ever doubt yourself again.

I won’t, you had murmured back. Thank you, love.

“Seriously, is this some sort of playhouse? Can’t even do their job right....”

Your head quickly shot up, eyes widening at the intimidating businessman in front of you. Fuck, not him again....

He rolled his eyes at you. “Two large cups of mocha latte with a half shot of espresso. And make it quick, I’m in a hurry.”

You purse your lips in disdain. “Yes, sir.”

Putting your phone away, you sighed as you began making his order. If Jay was here, he would’ve made you laugh by making fun of his attitude, or just straight up told the man off. But he’s not here, and he’s not going to help you out, you thought to yourself, gritting your teeth together as you mixed the coffee. He’s working for that fashion company in Paris, so just let him live his dream. C’mon, Y/N, just make this damn coffee, give it to that damn businessman who can’t keep his damn mouth shut—

“Be careful, you idiot! You’re going to spill them!”

You snapped out of your daze, again, by the harsh voice of the customer, who grabbed the two coffees, spilling foam over your hands, causing you to hiss in pain. And he had the audacity to walk away muttering, “Gosh, I’m never coming back to this shitty place again.”

Swallowing the pain, you went to wash your hands at the sink. It’s part of the job, there will always be some people yelling at you, it’s not your fault, you tried to comfort yourself, though you were sick and tired of this. This endless routine, the fake smiles you have to put on, a gaping hole in your heart you can’t cover up. It’s been over a year since Jay has gone, and suddenly, you missed him more than ever. Frustrated, you turned the faucet off, almost yanking it off the sink in the process. Burying your face in your hands, your mind wandered to something Jay had told you, right before he left for the trip.

Don’t you worry your pretty little mind, people throw rocks at things that shine.

You smiled at Jay’s words, and took a deep breath, calming yourself down. You will get through this. Drying your hands off on a towel, you smooth out the wrinkles in your shirt and set your face in a hard line. Just a few more hours, and you’ll finally get off work. You can do this.

Making your way to the counter again, you prepared to put on your custom smile and act like the cheerful barista you were supposed to be. “Hello! How may I—”

“Y/N?”

Your breath caught in your throat, as your eyes met the person you were just thinking about. No, it’s not possible, how— The two of you stared at each other in disbelief, before Jay’s face relaxed into a bright smile, and he opened his arms.

You ran out from behind the counter and wrapped your hands around him. Nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, you held on tight, and that’s when the tears came, happy and sad at the same time.

Jay didn’t say anything, for there was no need to use words when actions and feelings showed it all. He grasped you in his arms, body shaking slightly as he blinked back the tears from his own eyes. I’m finally back home.

The two of you stood there for who knows how long, but you couldn’t care less. No matter how many annoying customers you have to face, no matter how many times coffee spills all over you, nothing can separate you from what is yours.

You can say what you want, but this love is ours.

Sunoo - Sparks Fly ; pure love

You and Sunoo quietly crept out of the cafe, not wanting to disturb the couple hugging by the counter. Unfortunately for you two though, it had started raining outside, and none of you brought an umbrella.

“Really? And the forecast said it wouldn’t rain,” Sunoo grumbled, pouting. “The weather person needs to get fired.”

You laughed at his words, resisting the urge to pinch his cheeks. “They’re just trying to do their job, Sunoo. I mean, it’s not that bad....should we just make a run for it?”

Sunoo gasped dramatically. “And mess up our hair? How will I take our end-of-the-date selfie with our soggy selves?”

You rolled your eyes, “we can use our school bags to cover us. I mean, it’s either that, or be late to our movie night.”

Sunoo mulled over it for a moment, scrunching his nose in concentration. “Oh, fine. But we’re sticking to the cover until we have to cross the street.”

“Deal.” The two of you shuffled along the awning of the cafe, until you reached the end of the street where the crosswalks are. You two looked at each other, hunching your bookbags over your head. One hand holding onto your bag, you stretched your hand out to Sunoo, a smile crossing both of your faces as he took it.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three. GO!”

The two of you dashed out into the rain, laughing and screaming like little kids. A wild, childish bliss took over you, and you couldn’t stop giggling as you gripped tightly onto Sunoo’s hand. He looked over at you, and you can see that he was having the time of his life as well, smiling so much that his eyes seemed to disappear. You wish time could stop at that moment, as rain poured down around you two, the happy feeling in your chest expanding with love.

All too soon, your journey ended as you two rushed up, panting, to the door of your house. Letting your bags fall over your shoulders, the two of you turned to each other and laughed. You reached over to part the hair from his eyes, and he playfully flicked his head, spraying water on your face. You let out an indignant yelp, before lightly pushing him, then reaching to catch him again before he slips down the wet steps. Sunoo held onto your arm, trying to contain his laughter, though his bright smile gave it away.

“Gosh, we’re a mess,” you said as you tried to catch your breath. Putting your bag down, you fumbled in your pocket for your keys. “But you know what? Let’s do that again next time.”

“Well, hopefully we’ll actually remember to bring an umbrella next time,” Sunoo said, shaking out his wet bag. He grinned at you, and you swear you can see sparks fly whenever he smiles.

Jungwon - Mine ; enduring love

You trudged down the street, not minding the fact that you’re thoroughly soaked by the rain. Everything felt like a blur around you as your mind kept replaying the scene from moments before, and the tears came streaming down your face again, mingling with the drops from the sky. The sound of laughter pierced through your reverie, and you turned to see a couple giggling together at the front steps of their house, the sight making your heart squeeze.

What went wrong?

We were like them too, so what happened to us?

Sniffing, you wiped your nose with the back of your hand, turning away from the scene. Looking around, you realized that you had walked farther away from the house than you expected, and that it was already dark. Should I go back? As much as you don’t want to confront Jungwon right now, you don’t want him to worry either. Would he even worry though? Maybe this really is the end...

Making up your mind, you resolved to just keep walking, until you finally decided on what to do. Taking out your phone, you texted your friend whether you can stay over at theirs tonight. Slipping the device back into your pocket, you continued plodding along.

Until someone grabbed your arm, and you screamed.

“Y/N, it’s me! It’s me.”

Whirling around, your heart rate slowed as you made eye contact with your boyfriend. The rain had slowed to a drizzle now, and you saw that his eyes were red, like he had been crying too.

“Jungwon...” you extricated your arm from his hold, and took a deep breath. “What are you doing here?”

“I ran after you,” he mumbled, looking down at the ground. “After you left.”

You blinked in surprise, not expecting that answer. “O-oh.”

Not knowing what to say, the two of you stood there, and each passing minute felt like a wall growing bigger and bigger between you two. You didn’t know how the two of you even ended up like this—an offhand comment, which somehow led to yelling and cursing, and then you were running out into the streets alone, crying. And now, to this silence. It felt like hours before Jungwon spoke up.

“I’m sorry.”

Gulping, you forced the words out of your throat too. “I’m sorry too. I should’ve stayed instead of just running away like that.”

He shook his head. “No, this was my fault. I shouldn’t have yelled at you...talked to you in that way.”

You sighed. “Well, let’s just say it’s both of our faults, then. It doesn’t matter.”

Jungwon nodded hesitantly, peering up at you. “Should we go back to the dorms?”

You bit your bottom lip, thinking. Everything felt too much, like a fragile heart broken into a million pieces, each one jagged and misshapen. “I already texted my friend that I’ll stay over at their house tonight. Should we—should we just take a break, Jungwon? These days we’ve just been arguing and fighting with each other, I don’t know how we can continue this, if we can even—”

Your voice cracked, and the whirlpool of tears finally broke free as you sobbed, face in your hands. Your body tenses as you feel Jungwon’s arms wrap around you, relaxing slightly as he patted your back, trying to soothe your sorrows.

“Y/N, do you remember when we first met?”

He was working part-time at a restaurant as a waiter, and you thought he was pretty cute. You found that he was going to the same school as you, and the two of you became best friends. You fell for him a few months later, and ever since then, he was always by your side. Until everything fell apart a few weeks ago, when your tempers ran short and tension climbed high.

“I thought you were so beautiful...and remember our promise? I swore I was going to stay with you, that we won’t make the same mistake as your parents. You are the best thing that’s ever been mine. I know it’s hard to be together right now, when both of us are so busy that we don't have time with each other anymore...but I’ll always have time for you, Y/N. I know this sounds cheesy and all, but I just want to say that I love you and I don’t want to let you go.”

Sniffing, this time the tears flow because of his words. Turning around, you gave him a cheeky grin as you wiped your face. “Didn’t know you were such a romantic, Jungwon.”

His cheeks turned a shade of pink, and he shyly held out his hand. You took it, and the two of you started walking back home.

Niki - Jump Then Fall ; childhood love

Never mind, I’m going home tonight.

You raised your eyebrows at your friend’s message. Probably some couple problems with Jungwon. You were about to text back a reply, before you felt your pants get splashed with water.

You lifted your eyes to the sky, exasperated because you already know who did it. Sometimes I wonder how I even have a crush on him. I waited for him after dance practice and this is what I get? Turning around, you faced your friend, or as you like to call him, your greatest enemy, Nishimura Riki.

He has his usual mischievous grin on his face, jumping from foot to foot as he kicks at another puddle. Thankfully, you jumped out of the way just in time. Narrowing your eyes playfully, you said, “I see how it is...this is war.”

The rain had left numerous puddles on the sidewalk (probably due to the potholes your school refused to spend their money to fix), and you chased Niki down the street, splashing him with water. He laughed loudly and reached up (dangit, why is he so tall?), grabbed one of the branches of a tree, shaking the water from it. Gasping, your eyes widened as you got drenched from the drops. You glared at him, only causing his smile to stretch even wider from ear to ear. “I won,” Niki announced triumphantly.

You pouted, rolling your eyes. “Oh, fine. But it’s not fair, how did you even get this tall?”

Niki shrugged, as if it was no big deal, though you want to wipe the smug grin off his face. “I grew 13 centimeters last year.”

“Impossible,” you huffed. He shoved his hands in his pockets, raising his eyebrows at you as if challenging your statement. Shrugging his dance bag over one shoulder, Niki started walking, and you followed. “You just want to brag about your height.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” Niki teased in a sing-song voice. “Either way, I’m still taller than you~”

You smiled grudgingly, stealing a look at him from the corner of your eye. It seems like yesterday when you both were kids, and he was this bouncy little boy who loved to annoy the hell out of you. He still does, but you felt a twinge of nostalgia as you see how tall and mature he had come, and even more good-looking as well. If only he knows how much I like him.

Sensing your stare, Niki wiggled his eyebrows at you, making you laugh at his expression. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” you turned away, embarrassed. You really need to be less obvious, though Niki’s too oblivious to know anything about your feelings for him.

“No, it’s something,” he leaned closer to you, and suddenly you forgot how to breathe properly. “Is there something on my face?”

You shook your head quickly, gaze wandering anywhere but his eyes. Spying a puddle in the corner of your vision, an idea flashed through your mind. Leaning closer, so that your faces were only inches apart, you noticed that Niki’s cheeks were blushing pink at the close distance. Maybe this isn’t so one-sided after all.

“Actually, there is something.”

“W-what?” You expected him to pull away, but his eyes were dreamy, getting lost in your own. Or maybe you were the one getting lost in his. Tearing your gaze away, you grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the biggest puddle near the curb of the street. Taking a deep breath, you jumped straight into it, causing a huge splash that doused both you and Niki in water. You wished you could capture this moment on camera: Niki’s flustered face when you took his hand, his eyes widening comically as water sprayed his clothes. You laughed out loud, smirking at him. “I won,” you said, mimicking his voice from earlier.

Your smile faded when Niki didn’t say anything back, the shocked expression still on his face. Confused, you asked, “what’s wrong?”

Clearing his throat, he motioned his head towards your intertwined hands. “Um, you’re still holding onto my hand.”

Maybe it’s cliche, two childhood friends falling for each other, but what’s wrong with cliches? You tightened your grip on his hand, grinning as his face flared red. “Is there something wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” he looked down, making you giggle. Oh, how the tables have turned. You took a step closer.

“No, it’s something.”

He glanced up at you, unable to conceal a shy smile. You loved the way his hair falls in his face, slightly damp from jumping into too many puddles.

And all I can say is come closer, take a deep breath and jump then fall into me.

Daniel - Fifteen ; platonic love

“When are they going to confess already?” you snickered, eyeing the two teens playing in the puddles. Daniel followed your stare, shrugging at your words.

“When they finally get in through their heads that their feelings are mutual,” Daniel said. “Who knows how long that’ll take.”

You fold your arms across your chest, turning away and gazing wistfully into the distance. “Maybe one day I’ll find love like that.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow at you. “You got time, you’re still fifteen after all.”

Your hands dropped, and you sighed as your shoulders sagged. “I can’t believe I’m fifteen already...high school is so hard.”

Daniel laughed at the whine in your voice, reaching over to ruffle your hair. You pushed his hand away, glaring at him. “Hey, don’t laugh. You didn’t get any of the difficult classes this year.”

“That’s because I already know I want to major in art so...there’s no need to take these classes anyway.”

You stopped and turned to him, narrowing your eyes. “What in art, specifically?”

Daniel's eyes flickered to yours, looking away in embarrassment. “Oh, just something in music.”

You grinned slyly, probing further. “What in music, exactly?”

Daniel gulped, hoping you wouldn’t laugh at him this time. “Um...well, I really want to become a rapper…”

Your eyes widened and you gasped. “A rapper? Daniel, that’s amazing!”

Your friend blinked in confusion, surprised at your excitement. “You-you think so?”

Nodding fervently, you started walking again. Around you, the streetlights flared to life. “Yeah, I mean, you seem pretty passionate about it. I remembered how the teacher caught you writing lyrics in the back of the textbook when you’re supposed to be paying attention during class.”

Daniel humphed, his long strides quickly catching up with yours. “Hey, math is boring, alright? You weren’t listening either.”

You decided to concede with him on that point, because math, indeed, is a pain in the ass (also because you were afraid he’ll stop letting you copy his homework right before class). “Fine, but I’m just saying that you shouldn’t be ashamed of your dream. You’re dedicated, I know you can do it.”

Daniel smiled shyly at your words. “Thanks, Y/N.”

You smiled back half-heartedly. “And here I am, with nothing planned out. I still don’t know who I want to be, or even who I am.”

“It’s fine if you haven’t figured yourself out yet, just go with the flow and do things that make you feel happy. Then you’ll discover where your interests and dreams lie,” Daniel said sagely, making your eyes roll at his tone. He bumped your shoulder with his. “I’ll always be here for you, yeah?”

“Thanks, but I just...you know how you’re at that time in your life, when you’re just questioning everything? Like, what is the meaning of life? Why am I here?”

“Just to suffer,” Daniel whispered, flinching away as you whacked him on the arm. “Ok, ok, I didn’t know you were going to get this deep.”

“Maybe I should be an English teacher then,” you said thoughtfully. “Make all the students analyze the meaning of the universe, like how Mr. Kim is forcing us to analyze Romeo and Juliet.”

“Romeo and Juliet…” Daniel stopped suddenly, making you bump into him. “Oh no...I forgot my copy of the book at school!”

You gave him a look. “Seriously? I told you to get it out of your locker!”

Daniel scuffed his shoe on the sidewalk, avoiding your gaze. “Well, you know how loud and chaotic the dismissal was...I couldn’t hear you.”

You shook your head in resignation. “Whatever, I’ll just send you pictures of the pages we have to read.”

Daniel’s head shot up, eyes staring hopefully at you. “Really? Y/N, thank you so much, you know you're my best friend right?”

You rolled your eyes. “Just make sure to remember it next time, or you’re on your own.”

(Jokes on you, Daniel knows you’ll grudgingly share your book with him for the rest of the year if he keeps forgetting it).

Sunghoon - Love Story ; forbidden love

“Sunghoon!” you whisper-shouted, grimacing as your boyfriend stepped on a stick. The sound seemed too loud in the quiet darkness, and you looked around wildly. Grabbing his arm, you dragged him behind a rock, lips pursed in a tense line. Heart pounding, you felt both worried and exhilarated at the same time.

“Sorry,” Sunghoon said sheepishly, scratching the nape of his neck. “Didn’t see that.”

You frowned at him, turning around. “And I thought princes have stealth training as part of their schooling.”

Sunghoon scoffed. “All they teach us is how to look buff and strong so we can pick fights with your family.”

Stifling a laugh, you took his arm again, pulling him along. “True true, that sounds a lot like what they teach Youngbin too...though Youngbin isn’t the fighting type.”

“Your brother’s too soft,” Sunghoon muttered, “I feel sorry for him sometimes...he’d rather be kind than argue.”

Your lips quirked up in a sad smile. “Yeah, but there’s not much we can do about the feud, right?”

Nodding, Sunghoon carefully stepped over a pile of leaves, hand clutching tight onto yours. As the two of you cautiously stepped around the bend in the country road, Sunghoon let out a light gasp seeing what lay ahead. You grinned at his expression, quickening your pace until you two stopped in front of an enormous garden. Its gates were made up of interlocking flowers and vines, a sweeping archway of overhanging branches from two willow trees, and an open field lined with flowers of every kind laid beyond. Pushing away the branches, Sunghoon watched as you unraveled the flower gate and stepped into the beautiful utopia.

“A secret garden,” Sunghoon commented in awe. “How…”

“Youngbin and I used to go here all the time, whenever our families fight,” you answered. “Now that he’s confined to the training field, I feel too lonely being here all by myself.”

“Are you sure Youngbin wouldn’t mind?” Sunghoon asked, not wanting to intrude in sibling affairs.

You cast a funny look at him. “No, I’m sure he won’t. Besides...you’re the person I’m closest to besides him.”

The comment made Sunghoon blush, and he followed you down the path. On each side of him bloomed hundreds of colorful blossoms, making Sunghoon wonder who lived here long ago to tend to them all. Marigolds, roses, lilies, fuchsias, tulips, flowers of every kind decorated the leaves and vines. He reached out to pluck a red rose from the fray, careful not to prick his fingers. Stopping every now and then to admire the flowers, you tugged him towards the open field. Sitting down on the grass, you leaned your head against his shoulder.

“Look, the sun is rising.”

And indeed it was. Sunghoon smiled as you two relaxed in silence, watching the sunlight streak over the horizon in different shades of pink, yellow, and orange. A new day, a new beginning, he thought. He turned when he felt something being placed on his head, only to meet your grinning face as you adjusted the flower crown in his hair.

“There,” you said, pushing a stray hair away from his eye. Leaning back proudly, you nodded at how the wreath of white daisies complemented his raven hair. “You look pretty, flower boy.”

Sunghoon took the red rose, breaking off the stem, tucked it behind your ear. “No, you’re prettier.”

“Whatever,” you said, though Sunghoon saw that you were trying hard not to smile. “Do you know what this reminds me of?”

“What?” Sunghoon asked, laying back onto the grass. He took the flower crown off and held it up to the sky, scrutinizing your handiwork. You mirrored his movement, turning on your side to face him.

“There’s this story I read in the library a few days ago, about how two young lovers woke up at dawn so they could watch the sunrise together.”

“Oh?” Raising an eyebrow, Sunghoon motioned for you to continue.

“Mhm,” You gazed off into the distance, a thoughtful look on your face. The sunbeams have gotten brighter, and they cast a glow on your face that Sunghoon couldn’t describe, other than ethereal. “It reminded me of us.”

“Who knows,” Sunghoon shrugged. “Maybe someday someone will write a story about us too.”

“A forbidden love story?” You snickered. “Who would write something like that?”

—— —— —— —— —— —— —— —— —— —— ——

~ Which story is your favorite? ~

142 notes · View notes

chaeiimimi · 3 years

Text

01 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖔 𝖇𝖆𝖇𝖞

Summary: you weren’t really sure how it happened, but an average student who wore glasses and spent all her extra time on bookstores and library managed to date your school’s volleyball club setter. On your 3rd year of law school, your ten years anniversary to be exact, he went home from Argentina and it was a week before he was going back, he broke up with you with the reason of he can't handle long-distance relationship anymore despite being at it for two years. You didn’t cry, you stood there as he was sobbing in front of you, you held his face in your palms and offered him a gentle smile, gentle enough to let him know you’ll support him and will always be watching him, together with the child in your stomach right now, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Chapters: prev// next

“is model Sato Himari dating Argentina national male volleyball team player Oikawa Tooru?” you read yet another dating rumor from your past lover

you shook your head and mumbled “he never changed” you said clucking your toungue

it’s been almost two years now since your break-up, your son and his twin brother were already ten months old, they grew up to be healthy and happy babies

Your parents helped you take care of your babies whenever you were attending school and doing your part-time jobs

You also tried to avoid some high school friends since almost all of them knew Oikawa and you didn’t think it was time for him to find out about his sons yet

His career is at its peek, he was getting a lot of endorsements inside and outside of Japan, he was always getting linked to a lot of famous people and influencers

You felt so small compared to him and quite frankly, you didn't know if you wanted that life for your sons, i mean Oikawa had paparazzi following him everywhere he's almost like a celebrity

Well with that looks of him, it wasn't a surprise

Besides, you didn't know if he still loved you, he was surrounded by a lot of rumors from celebrities to actresses to models

And you were just a fresh graduate looking for a job to sustain your kids

With all of that out of the way, you decided that you didn't want Oikawa to meet your kids

"hiii babies" you cooed at your sons when you arrived at your parent's house

They all giggled in unison reaching out their tiny hands to you, they were already in their strollers when you arrived ready to go

"hey ma, pa thank you again for today" you hugged your parents, without them, you probably wouldn't manage to pay for yours and your sons' expenses

"y/n please rest for a little bit, we already told you, me and your dad can afford to take care of yours and your sons' needs" your mother pleaded with you one more time

You looked at her with tired eyes but you were hosting a gentle smile on your lips

"mom, its really fine, you guys are already taking care of my kids I cant let you carry all the burden, besides, I already got the job from the law firm" you smiled at them lifting the takeout food they failed to notice when you entered

"I can begin work after a week"

Thus you and your sons left your parent's house a little later than usual as you ate dinner

"good morning my baby" you greeted Haruto who was always the first one to wake up, you lift him up from his crib as you sat down the rocking chair just in front of their crib feeding him with your breastmilk

"eat up before your brother wakes up" you smiled at him, his small eyes looking at you as he sips milk from your nipples, smiling while doing so

It was moments like this when you felt bad for them, how you wanted them to have a father, but you know it was far for that to happen, their father was at the other side of the world and the chances of you getting back together was next to impossible

You relish the silent peaceful morning

Until it was ruined by the loud ringing of your phone, you reached for it since it was just on top of the table beside your chair

You didn't check the caller

"hello?"

"bessssstiiieee" you moved your phone away from your ear

"Akira, its 7 in the morning here for goodness sake" you scold your bestfriend who is also in Argentina

"ohhh sorry are my godchildren still sleeping?" she asked

"I'm feeding Haruto at the moment, Hayato is still asleep" you said looking down at your son and made a funny face which made him giggle

"anyways bestfriend, i'm going home to attend the high school reunion, are you coming?" she asks

"no-"

"oh no you don't bitch, i'm coming home and WE will attend that party, last year i was alone, Himari was annoying the shit out of me with her stupidly pretty face"

"why did you even ask me in the first place?" you deadpanned

She knew you couldn't say no to her, how could you? When she was there when you were crying your eyes out after the break up, putting up with your intense cravings and rubbing your back during morning sickness heck she even hesitated on going to Argentina to get trained by the photographer she idolizes the most because you were two months away from giving birth

Even in Argentina she was constantly calling her friends if they had jobs available for you, and for that you are forever thankful for her

"But, what if he's there?" you asked, there was a reason why you didn't attend high school reunion last year, you were afraid Oikawa was there

"its not like we're going to bring the boys with us- oh wait I'm about to board my flight I'll call you when I arrive bye love you" and with that she ended the phone abruptly

You sighed and looked at Hayato shuffle awake in his bed

okay so this is my first time writing a fanfic by chapter DADYIGFBWEYB I hope y’all liked it, just tell me through dms or ask box if you want a tag on the next chapter

#oikawa x y/n #oikawa tooru x reader #Haikyuu x reader #Haikyuu x y/n #oikawa tooru #haikyuu imagines

167 notes · View notes

arhvste · 4 years

Text

❝ haikyuu boys reacting to getting headlice ❞

an - i couldnt possibly tell you where the motivation to write this came from but here you go

HINATA SHOUYO

-> he doesn’t care. they’re little bugs living rent free in his head? who is he to kick them off his head when they’ve probably settled, made a nice home and got a growing family started? considerate king but disgusting

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

-> disgusted. but also thinks just a few rinses of water will do the trick. he doesn’t understand he’s actually got to get in there and pull them out. miwa is horrified walking into the bathroom to see tobio leaned over the bath with a tub full of cold water he’s ultimately wasted. he’s lucky miwa knows what she’s doing

TSUKISHIMA KEI

-> no mercy. rips the little mfs off his head like nobodies business. his brother can only stare in awe and disturbance. kei isn’t scared over a few bugs they’re only a minor annoyance. he won’t tell a soul he had headlice though and if anyone were to snitch on him, he’d probably shake a few off his head and onto yours.

YAMAGUCHI TADASHI

-> stressed. his hairs kinda long so they’re a pain the ass to get out some may think he’d be a little hesistant to tackle them alone but yams has several lice killing lotions in his bathroom ready to use. he is sympathetic but no way is he letting little bugs crawl around his head while he’s around tsukki

TANAKA RYUUNOSUKE

-> the bugs don’t even get to step on this kings prestine head,, next caller !!

NISHINOYA YUU

-> merciless. who tf do these bugs think they are stepping onto his territory? feral. probably put a few in a jar after pulling them out to bark at them and show them that they’ve crossed the line stepping onto his head

ASAHI AZUMANE

-> have sympathy for the guy they’re gonna be a nightmare for him. more upset than anything. now he’s being reduced to being ridiculed by tiny ass bugs too? give the guy a break. gets them out within the first day because he’s not going to suffer longer than he has to and continues doing the treatment for the rest of the week even though they’re certainly long gone

SUGAWARA KOUSHI

-> brutal. like tsukki he’s got no shame in just ripping them out. suga is the type of guy to catch spiders and gently let them out the window and not kill them. lice don’t get that treatment from him. will straight up throw them down the drain and smirk in the process

DAICHI SAWAMURA

-> just another minor occurrence for him. he’s got short hair it’s no biggie. will probably get his mother to help just to make sure he does it right but overall he’ll get rid of them effectively and quickly you wouldn’t even be able to tell he had them in the first place

KINDAICHI YUUTAROU

-> good. he deserves them. maybe this will teach him to get a good haircut. at least the lice like your cut g

KUNIMI AKIRA

-> tortures them after. probably wets a paper towel to keep them stuck to and jabs at them with a thin needle after he’s got them out. sadist little bitch probably has a deadpan expression while doing it too. the lice fear him across the country and avoid him from now on

KYOTANI KENTARO

-> again he’s got short hair so they’re not too big of a pain to get out but why the hell did they have to pick his head? probably picks them out and just throws them wherever he has no regard for where they land and who might catch them from him

HANAMAKI TAKAHIRO

-> little bugs are just chilling no biggie. probably tells the team he’s got them and shakes his head near them to piss them off. oikawa keeps his distance approximately 5 metres and refuses to be included in any rotation makki is in during practice. even after he gets rid of them he doesn’t tell the team and continues shaking his head near them just to ‘keep them on their toes’

MATSUKAWA ISSEI

-> won’t tell anyone other than makki. the two probably pick them out and throw them in oikawas direction leaving their captain confused as to why the hell the two of them keep throwing ‘nothing’ at him. probably gets rid of them within a week and sleeps with a shower cap on so they don’t touch his pillow, that’s his only rule while they spend their vacation on his head

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

-> isn’t scared of no bugs. probably would keep one and press it down just to stick in his childhood bug diary and sneers at how inferior the lice is compared to the other cooler bugs he’d caught before. his hairs short so again it’s not a huge issue for him. he’ll get rid of them quickly and effectively without too much hassle

OIKAWA TOORU

-> screams. begs iwa to take them out for him insisting that it’s his hobby but iwa rejects and leaves oikawa to handle it alone. oikawas sister dips as soon as she finds out and oikawa believes this is the end of his life. after a week of moping and being a brat, iwa gives in and sorts it out for him to finally give him a peace of mind.

LEV HAIBA

-> never had lice before and is genuinely interested rather than concerned. where did the little bugs come from? why do they like his hair so much? is he the chosen one? probably let’s them live on his head for a while until they become infuriatingly itchy and yaku finds out he’s been letting a cult of lice live on his head and forces him to get treatment

KOZUME KENMA

-> thinks bleach with solve it. everyone who hates kenma’s dark roots better be ready for them to go because he will just bleach the shit out of his hair and assume it’s killed them all. for the next few months his hairs gonna be nice but he’ll let his roots grow out again and you’ll secretly hope for him to catch lice again just so he’ll touch up his damn roots again

TAKETORA YAMAMOTO

-> it’s the blonde mohawk that’s the issue. why tf did he have to make his hair to awkward to work with. doesn’t take him long to get out but he probably picks them out walking home from practice or school and just chucks them in bushes or drains he walks past

MORISUKE YAKU

-> you really think he’s about to let some stupid bugs live on his head and not pay rent? absolutely not. has several different brands of lice treatment lotion and uses at least 4 in one go. that amount of chemicals probably isn’t good for you in one go but his only goal is to kill the lice which he achieves. these bugs are mercilessly killed, revived and killed again all in one treatment session

KUROO TETSURŌ

-> this hurt to write knows exactly how to kill them and won’t hesitate in doing so. by that i mean he’s going straight to his grandmother to do it for him because as much as he knows about treatment and such, nobody does anything better than his grandmother and he’ll sit in a chair with a towel around his neck chattering on about his day as his poor grandmother slaves over his head ripping out the stupid bugs from his inconviently styled hair. kuroo’s lucky his grandmother knows he’s her boy

AKAASHI KEIJI

-> bless his soul he’s horrified. disgusting little creatures, believes they’re vermin of the world. mutters in disgust at them as he watches them drown in the pool of water in his bathtub sink eventually sending them down the drain where he hopes they suffer a painful afterlife

KONOHA AKINORI

-> he’s grossed out but doesn’t make a huge deal about it. probably violates himself and gives himself the nickname ‘nitty nori the bug explorer’. he can take a joke and get rid of them in the same week. ugh king shit

BOKUTO KOUTARŌ

-> pain in the ass. he’s excited about these bugs but also worried? do they want to suck his blood? will they crawl into his ears at night? his sisters are the ones responsible with dealing with them and the whole time he’s asking a abundance of random questions regarding the lice and why they chose his head to make their residence

TENDŌ SATORI

-> probably sings at them to make them uncomfortable as he pulls them out. his fingers work magic as he flawlessly picks them out and sends them on their way down to the depths of the drain. the last thing these bugs hear is the terrifying voice of the man who mercilessly sent them to their death beds

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

-> his hairs short it’s okay it’s not the end of the world but rather than killing them he believes they have more use to them. he’s going to throw them in this soil in the garden and assume they work the same miracles worms do. he’ll be disappointed to know that they had no effect on his soil and he wasted his damn time making sure to evenly spread them out of the compost heap

MIYA OSAMU

-> will eat with a hat on. if these bugs are gonna live on his head no way is he sharing his food too. they’ve already taken enough from him. atsumu probably bullies him for his lice but freaks out when osamu tells him that because they’re twins, the lice will seek out his head too and they’ll both be infected. he only survives the short period of time with his lice because of the amusement he gets from watching atsumu consciously stay away from him even to the point where atsumu moves onto the couch. maybe he should let the lice vacate a little longer next time

MIYA ATSUMU

-> hates them. calls them every name under the sun but doesn’t actually effectively try to get rid of them. he doesn’t actually know how to get rid of them but is too embarrassed to admit it so he just lives with it. luckily, the lice decided to move in a few days before his hair was due for a touch up so like kenma, he just bleached the shit out of them and it seems to do the trick. it would be concerning had his hair not needed a touch up though who knows how long he would’ve had them.

SUNA RINTARŌ

-> his little sister notices his hand scratching his head constantly and begins to refer to suna as ‘nit boy’ and only ‘nit boy’. he doesn’t really care at first because surely a single shower will do the trick but his sisters provoking gets so annoying he just ends up treating them 7 times over but not before threatening to leave a few dead ones on his sisters pillow if she doesn’t stop calling him names

ARAN OJIRO

-> again, the lice don’t even get to step on his head. they see aran and they respect him. he seems like a nice and reliable guy so why would they go to the efforts of bothering him? probably nod their tiny ass antennas from atsumu’s hair and let aran go about his day in peace

KITA SHINSUKE

-> lice simply don’t exist in kita’s presence. the second a lice stepped foot on kita’s head, he senses it and ripped the mf off before it could even find a nice area to settle. lice keep away from kita at all times and never intend on crossing paths with him

KIYOOMI SAKUSA

-> an indescribable level of disgusted. refuses to accept it at first, insists that lice simply wouldn’t have been able to touch his head but alas he is wrong. tempted to shave his hair off but then again why should he have to suffer just because some stupid bugs said so. has no mercy, will treat his hair every day for the next month and a half and cusses the bugs out as they fall down the drain

general taglist → @atsumuwoah @bloody-bella @bbymilkbread @miracleboy420 @doggonudez @tsumue @peteunderoos @tsukkisbean @saturnfarie @dear-kozume @zumisace @boosyboo9206 @totorosleaff @27kei @dai-tsukki-desu @angrylittleriri @tsukkaria @kuxredere @warakou @mattsuny @lovinnoya @sophiashortcake @wompwomphq @waitforitillwritemywayout

ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO @KUROOSKULT ON TUMBLR 2020 PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, CHANGE OR PLAGIARISE

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hockeyforthefirsttime · 3 years

Text

Speechless- Nolan Patrick

AN: Is the ending literal trash? yes, do i care at this point? also yes, but not enough

Word count: just over 3k

TW: none that I can think of, but let me know if i need to tag something:)

Nolan is definitely bored at the bar. He is out and supposed to be celebrating a win, but third wheeling with Tavis and Karly, simply is not fun. Not that it ever has been, but as he watches them laugh at each other on the dance floor.. well he takes a deep sigh and an even deeper swig of his beer. Some of the team is gathered around the bar ordering another round of drinks, and as he is scanning the crowd a woman walks in front of him, making him look up at her.

And stop dead in his thoughts.

She is wearing jeans that cling to her curves just right, a deep magenta top that seems to wrap around her stomach, before it reveals a little more than he can handle, and he looks up at her and sees the ghost of a smile on her lips. She isn’t looking at him though. She seems to be looking into the crowded dance floor, and Nolan desperately wants to know who she is looking for.

In any other situation like this, he would have swept her off of her feet and wouldn’t have put her down until they’d reach his bed. But her obliviousness to him has knocked him off balance it seems.

“Hey Patty, me and Karly are gonna head home. Want a ride?”

Travis comes up to Nolan, Karly in tow and the mysterious girl moves with a quiet sorry and a fleeting smile. Nolan can feel his eyes drift after her before he meets Travis’ eyes, which are brimming with amusement.

“Nah, I’m good.”

He answers, and Travis bursts out laughing.

“What, so you can sit here and stare like some kind of creep the rest of the night?”

Nolan sees Karly gently shoving on Travis, also having noticed Nolans lingering gaze.

“As opposed to going home in the same car as you two rabbits? No thank you.”

Travis and Karly bid their goodbyes as the rest of the team and their significant others appear back at the table. Nobody seems to take notice of the Nolans distantness though, pinning it down as just his Philly personality. Nobody really sees him staring at this girl dancing in vans and a pink top.

As the song ends he watches her go up to the bar, so in normal Nolan fashion he gets up and heads in that direction. He takes a look down at his watch and in a second, a split fucking second, she is gone.

He’s so fucking tired. The game last night had been decent. They’d won in overtime and Nolan had the assist, yet he keeps going over the chances he had and the chances he missed making in his head. Driving to the rink is dreary but even more so than usual. It’s not until he stops at a red light that he wakes up. He’s supporting his head on his left arm and looking out the passenger seat window. His eyes widen when he sees who is in the beaten up truck next to him.

The girl from the bar three weeks ago. She has her hair down her shoulders and is looking at him through her own window. When she catches his eyes, she gives him a wink. As if she recognizes him. And if this was anyone else he might have given her a half smile, or even a wink back. But no. He can feel his cheeks heating up and getting rosy. God how he wishes he could be as confident as he usually is. The girl in the other car seems to be laughing a little, a smile on her lips. Nolan swears she starts slipping away from view, and in that second he remembers. He’s at a fucking red light. Except it isn’t red anymore, made obvious by the boisterous truck behind him, basically laying on his horn.

Quickly he presses his foot down on the gas pedal and looks for the beaten up truck, which is nowhere to be seen.

iii

It’s still winter and Nolan for some reason unknown to him decides to take a walk in the park not far from his apartment. He blames it on his restlessness, which stems from sitting inside the entire weekend. It’s nearing Christmas time and the main section of the park is covered in fairy lights and christmas decorations. There’s even a stand that sells hot chocolate.

He buys a cup, puts in his earbuds and starts walking. It is nice out, he decides, with all the people out enjoying the snow on the ground. There are even some kids out rolling big snowballs, which turn into snow men and women. He feels a sudden wave of content roll over him. And a smile subconsciously finds its way onto his lips.

Nolan walks a little further, and doesn’t really stop, until a ball of golden fur is at his feet, almost making him trip. The wagging tail is making the entire body of the dog move and he catches himself smiling and taking out one of the earbuds. Immediately he hears the voice of a girl shouting.

“Akira!”

The dog at his feet, looks around eagerly as her owner sprints up to him. And Nolan can hardly believe his luck. It is the bar girl.

“I’m so sorry, she usually doesn’t run off like that.”

And judging by her attire she is out for a jog, which would explain how out of breath she is. Quickly she pulls a leash out of her pocket and hooks it onto Akira’s harness.

“Oh there’s no worries.”

Nolan manages to stutter out. He sees a little smirk on her lips and curses his reddening cheeks for being so obvious. He bends his head a little and scratches Akira behind her ears. The golden retriever leans into his touch and a soft chuckle escapes the girl standing in front of him.

He is just about to ask the girl her name when a phone starts ringing. It’s hers. Quickly, from another pocket, she pulls out a phone and answers it. He watches with steady eyes as a frown starts to grow on her face.

“Fuck, okay yeah, I’ll be home in a few.”

She hangs up the phone and pockets it, before she turns to look at him again. With a wink she turns around and Akira follows.

“See you around Shy Guy!”

And just like that she’s gone. His chocolate is no longer hot, so he tracks back to his apartment, with discouragement sitting in his chest like a rock.

iiii

The Starbucks is so full, the line goes through the door and that’s the reason why Nolan doesn’t even consider entering it. He turns and treks back a block until he sees this quaint little cafe he’s never really noticed. Which is no surprise, because it seems to be mostly inhabited by students. With the amount of computers and books up at the cafe tables and its location closer to UPenn it should come as no surprise.

And maybe he gets a little hopeful that the bar girl will be there, so despite his logical mind, he enters through the glass doors and goes straight to the counter. The boy has to be around his own age, but a fair bit skinnier and with glasses on. It makes him look a bit too young in Nolan's eyes, but it doesn’t really matter.

“Hey, what can I get you today?”

The young boy asks as he wipes down the counter.

“Ehh, just a large black coffee, please.”

Nolan says and pulls out his wallet. He doesn’t completely register the bell over the door ringing, not until the gust of cold air washes over him. Instinctively he turns and spots a smaller frame entering the cafe. A hoodie over their head and a black jacket, lightly dusted with quickly melting snow. And a pair of beaten up, black vans on their feet. His hopes rise, and yet again he is rewarded with the presence of the bar girl. She shakes out her hair a little as she pulls the hood off of her head. Nolan could swear his heart stopped right there. The evening sun shines through the window, making her hair appear as a halo around her.

She hasn’t noticed him yet. So he turns and tries to calm his blush. The guy behind the counter has begun making his coffee so he doesn’t really know what to do. The bar girl comes up behind him. He can tell by the way the barista nods at her with a smile.

“Hey Dylan, how are you today?”

And Nolan is instantly a bit jealous of this Dylan, who gets to hear his name falling from her lips.

“I’m good Rory, thanks, how are you?”

Dylan answers, and it feels like his heart is in his throat. Her name is Rory? It suits her.

“Could be better to be honest, this paper on existence due next week is really kicking my ass.”

She answers as she comes closer, and Nolan moves further up the counter to give them room.

“Tell me about it, you want the usual?”

She nods and slings her backpack off one shoulder to unzip a pocket, and pulls out a card. Dylan finishes Nolan's order and places it on the corner of the counter. Nolan can feel his chance slip through his fingers and begins to panic a little.

Until he spots a pen on the counter near his cup. Quickly he grabs it and scribbles his name and number on the cup. And he couldn’t have cued it better for AV to call him. He puts the cup down again and picks up the call.

“Nolan, have you looked over the videos yet?”

Alain, straight to the point as usual.

“Yeah, saw them yesterday, and I have some ideas in mind for me to improve.”

He speaks into the phone, while he puts a hand on the back of his neck.

“Good good, I will see you tomorrow then?”

“Yes, sir. Bright and early.”

And then they hang up. He sees that another cup has appeared beside his. He throws a quick glance at Rory, who is still talking to the barista, and turns his cup the other way so the writing isn’t visible and grabs her cup. Then, he nods a goodbye to Dylan and exits the door.

He’s almost half a block away when his phone rings. He hasn’t drunk out of the cup, but it smells a little sweet and enticing. He looks at the phone and sees an unknown number. He lets it ring twice more before answering.

“Hey, this is Nolan?”

He tries to sound nonchalant.

“Hey, Shy guy. This is Rory. You didn’t by any chance grab my coffee on the way out?”

Despite the fact that he doesn’t actually know her, he swears he can hear a smile over the phone. And he is a little bit shocked by the nickname.

“Oh, so this is who it belongs to?”

She lets out a little chuckle, before she answers.

“Yeah, mind returning it?”

He smiles at the laugh.

Nolan is different, not that he will admit it, but the team can tell. He seems to be more patient, more focused on practicing drills and getting them right, and also for some reason, more ready for practice to be over. At first it’s a subtle change, but after a while and two games where he plays over all very well, it seems to be more than just determination. It seems like he wants to impress someone.

At first they shake it as him wanting to prove himself to.. well everyone. But one day when Oskar asks him who he is texting so frequently, Nolan can feel his cheeks and ears tint even more than usual. Damn her and the effect she has on him. He tries to play it cool with a casual shrug, but half the locker room seems to burst out laughing. Quickly he puts his phone in his pocket and heads for the door.

“Have a good weekend guys!”

He calls out behind him out of habit, as it is a weekend without games and he is taking a short trip home. Various chirps get called out behind him, but Teeks seems to be the loudest one.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

And all hell breaks loose as they all start on chirping Travis about how he can do anything then. With a fond smile, Nolan heads for his car, where he has a pre- packed bag as well as his passport and a carryon.

He parks his car in the airport parking lot and he swears, there is something familiar about the truck beside his car. He shoves it to the back of his mind and starts crossing to the terminal. He’s late tho, and only half an hour to get on his flight, so as he anxiously stands in line for check in he pulls up his phone and sees a new text from Rory.

Hey, I’ll be gone for a couple of hours, text when I can:)

It was sent five minutes ago, and he groans a little at the fact that he has to wait faster, very bored. Finally he has checked in his bag and been cleared to enter the airport all the way to his flight.

In a half jog, half sprint he manages to make it just shy of ten minutes before the gate closes. He pulls his cap further down on his head and puts his ticket and passport on the desk. The hostess scowls at him but lets him enter the already boarded plane.

The smell of too many people and bad flight food smacks him in the face as he enters the plane with another nod to a different flight hostess.

34B seems too far away, but he bites his tongue and keeps walking. He looks at the bald man in 34C and the hooded figure in 34A. He swears, there is something familiar about this too but his mind is a little fuzzy and he can’t quite place it.

“Scuse me.”

He mumbles to the man and he politely moves so Nolan can find his seat. The girl in the seat next to the window turns and looks at him, and finally it seems that he has steady ground under his feet.

“Well, seems like I won’t text you in a couple of hours then.”

Rory smiles at him. And he smiles back.

“Nope you’re stuck with me for the next five and a half hours.”

He teases and plops down in his seat.

“What the fuck are you going to Winnipeg for though?”

Nolan asks as he fastens his seatbelt and ignores the security instructions completely.

“Oh I haven’t told you? My family lives there.”

He feels flabbergasted, how in the living hell has he forgotten to ask? He always assumed she was from Philly.

“Why are you going there anyway?”

Rory asks, but he sees the twinkle in her eyes, she’s just joking with him.

“I’m visiting my girlfriend.”

He decides to reply dead serious. And the twinkle in her eyes disappears, a frown begins to form between her eyebrows and he instantly feels a little bad.

“I’m- sorry, that was a really bad joke.”

This time it seems, it’s her turn to get embarrassed. Neither of them get time to think it over though, because the plane starts accelerating and her hand immediately lands on his. He sees her jaw tense and feels her hand tighten around his knuckles. Nolan doesn’t want to comment on it though, and just lets her hold on.

As they lift off the tarmac her hand slowly starts easing up and when they level out in the air, she seems to have realised that she’s holding his hand. Quickly she lets go, and Nolan already misses it.

“Sorry about that, I get a little nervous about the take off.”

She seems a little nervous to admit it, but he asks anyway.

“How come?”

“Oh, ever heard of the irresistible force paradox?”

He shakes his head no, and that launches her into an explanation of what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. It’s obvious she loves theories like this, with the way she talks and moves her hands.

“- which stems from both a chinese and a roman legend. The roman is about Zeus and how he fixed the Teumessian fox, who can never be caught, and the hound Laelaps who never misses what he hunts to the sky in constellations.”

She stops, and Nolan really wishes she wouldn’t. Her voice is so calming yet enchanting at the same time, he could listen and learn every day for forever.

“But wouldn’t that mean that the fox wins? because it never gets caught?”

He questiones.

“Exactly! I’ve been thinking about it for days now.”

And the plane ride goes on like that, until Rory has heard of most of the flyers and Nolan knows the name of almost all her professors. It’s closer to night time when she starts to slur her words, because of tiredness. She ends up with her head on his shoulder and his hair a little bit in her face. But the weight of his head leaning against hers is priceless.

Nolan wakes up a little bit before her and sees that they’re landing soon. So he shakes Rory awake with a promise of a date in the morning. Since they don’t live too far away from each other. And she agrees.

They step off the plane together, collect their luggage together, Nolan’s arm slung around Rory’s shoulder, and hug each other so long, before departing to their own separate families.

“Hey, see you tomorrow shy guy!”

She winks at him, rendering him speechless in front of his family. His sister glances at him with a questioning look as she watches the other girl walk away. Usually few people render Nolan at a loss for words.

#nolan patrick #nolan patrick imagine #nolan patrick fluff #nolan patrick fic #philadelphia flyers #flyers imagine #flyers fluff #flyers fic #flyers 19

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angelsxbelle · 3 years

Text

haikyuu boys as your best friend.

part 1!!!

hey guys i thought i’d do some fluffy best friend scenarios since i’ve been feeling a bit down/anxious lately and i thought it would be fun to write something to cheer people up:)

pairings: tendou x reader, komori x reader, kunimi x reader x gn! reader

warnings: extreme fluff, maybe?? swearing

have fun and remember to stay safe on the internet kids :)

tendou, SATORI

now it’s probably obvious that being tendou’s best friend is already going to be one of the best things that could ever happen to you just by looking at him

i mean, mans is a walking ball of crackhead energy

and while being around tendou is a guarantee for having the time of your life, i feel like there’s a lot more to him than a lot of people realize, especially in the way he’d act in a close friendship

he knows what it’s like to feel left out, so he always wants you to feel like you belong somewhere and won’t let you feel alone anywhere

he’s the kind of friend that will facetime you during lunch if he’s sick so you don’t have to sit alone without him

he’s also very attentive and notices small details that other people may look over, he’s always the first person to notice if something’s bugging you or if you’re feeling down about something and he’ll ask if you want to talk about it after school when you’re in private

a very good listener, not the kind of person that will try to shove solutions down your throat, but he’s supportive and will help you try to feel better if you ask him to

also a master at cheering people up after a rough day, you can’t help but burst into giggles whenever he does something stupid to try and get you to smile, he’ll conquer anything that’s making you upset

with him around, you’ll never feel alone or unwanted because you know he’ll always be there no matter what

if you’re clingy or know how to show affection really well through acts of service or words of affirmation, you’ll make a really good pair since he likes to be reassured

will blush if you compliment him or say something you like about him, and he’ll say something nice about you immediately after too

if you give him a friendship bracelet that matches one you made for yourself, he’ll wear it every day no matter how girly or cutesy looking it is

platonic cuddling>>>>>

he also likes it when you’re close to him, even though there’s no romantic feelings attached he’ll hold your hand as you run down the halls when you’re late to your next class together

even if you don’t care for it (why wouldn’t you though),you read shonen jump with him every week while you eat snacks together in his dorm and then talk about it with him afterwards

as for stuff you do for fun together, life with tendou is always a blast

sometimes you go to convenience stores and get slushies and then run to the top of a grassy hill by the parking lot and then just talk for hours and watch the stars

during school, sometimes you guys make up dances or songs and perform them for ushijima and he just stands there like 🧍‍♂️

you guys like to go watch scary movies together at the theater and you always share one of those jumbo popcorn tubs

one time tendou accidentally dropped it on the person that was sitting in front of you’s head and you guys had to just b o o k i t out of there

he always lets you borrow his hoodies if you ask for them since they’re huge on you and he thinks it’s cute

you’re one of the only people besides ushijima that he’s opened up to about his childhood, and if you’ve been bullied too it’ll make you even closer to him since you share it

you make sure he knows how special he is and how much you care about him all the time when he gets insecure

on the last day of high school he tears up while telling you how much you mean to him

you guys stay just as close after high school, calling each other every day

you end up visiting him in france, it’s the best two weeks of your life spent together with him and you eventually end up moving there with him

komori, MOTOYA

as a best friend, komori is the perfect person for someone that wants to have someone that’s caring and stable but also still fun to be around and knows how to lighten up

everyone knows komori is our favorite sweet boy that takes care of his icy cousin but i personally believe he secretly has a mischievous side to him you know???

like he’s still very sweet but he DEF knows how to pull a good prank

the kind of kid that’ll show up on exam day and get straight a’s and then give all of his teachers big thank you gifts but a week later someone will catch him drawing massive unicorns and care bears all over the school grounds with chalk like nothing’s wrong

he would never intentionally cause any actual harm to anyone though, he’s still very respectful and doesn’t want to actually break any school rules because he doesn’t want to get in trouble and make his teachers feel bad :’(

if you forget your lunch he’s the type to split his with you

he’ll also walk you to every class even if he’s all the way across the building bc he’s nice like that :’)))

will totally laugh if you trip over your own feet in the hallway but will always stop and help you up and ask you if you’re okay after

a sweetie, your parents probably love him because whenever he comes over he always asks if he can help with cooking and cleaning and stuff like that

together, you guys like to do stuff like study together as well as do stuff like reading horror mangas together and watching old disney movies

every once and a while he’ll ask you to go for a run with him in the morning if sakusa won’t go with him and he’ll go slow just so you don’t feel like you have to keep up with him bc he doesn’t want to wear you out right before school

he likes that you know you can find stability in him, you know he’ll always be by your side no matter what’s happening outside your friendship

also loves it when you come to his games, you yell at him from the stands really loud and he’ll wave back from the court and smile really big up at you as sakusa grumbles next to him :’)

even though your relationship is lighthearted, you can still come to him with whatever issues you’ve been going through and he’ll listen as best as he can, he’ll even open up to you as well and be vulnerable about whatever he’s struggled with in the past too

if you guys didn’t wear school uniforms, he would 100% match outfits with you no matter what your style is like

like tendou, he’ll also really appreciate it if you make him a friendship bracelet to wear and he won’t want to take it off

the day you graduate, he probably cries because he’ll miss you so much if you end up going to different universities

he doesn’t really have a hard time admitting it, but you really do mean a lot to him

even after high school, you guys still stay in touch and visit each other as often as you can, with you eventually moving back to your hometown so you’ll see each other often again and you end up staying close

you’re probably the closest friendship he’s ever had :’)

kunimi, AKIRA

token lazy best friend ™

while he has a laid back attitude, kunimi still cares very much about your friendship believe it or not

he’s very nonchalant about it, but would still die for you 100% if things came to that

as seen with his friendship with kindaichi, despite being a very chill person kunimi is still attentive to other people’s feelings and will notice if something’s wrong with you or if something’s upset you

if you’re feeing insecure or upset he won’t hesitate to reassure you, even though he has a hard time opening up he’ll still remind you how he feels about you and how much he cares about you

he’s definitely not overly sappy about it though, he just kind of says what he thinks and moves on

in school, people are probably intimidated by you because you’re so quiet around others plus mans is like 6ft tall-

speaking of 6ft tall, if some guys are creeping you out or making you uncomfortable he’ll intervene and scare them so you have a chance to slip away while he makes them question their life existence

not to mention if anybody ever tries to pick on you, he’ll say something simple but so rude they’ll be so taken aback they just end up leaving you alone in shock

the silent but protective type of best friend

also even though he acts indifferent towards most things, if you show him something you’re really excited about he’ll still make an effort not to seem like he doesn’t care or blow you off

for hanging out, he’s definitely more of a simple kind of guy, he just likes to go over to your house and talk or read/ study or watch tv with you, he just enjoys the quality time

also, he secretly enjoys it when you play with his hair like he doesn’t show too much emotion but a little blush creeps up his cheeks and his eyes squint a tiny bit

and if he trusts you a lot, he’ll open up about his past and his experiences in middle school or anything that had hurt him in the past

it makes him feel safe when he knows you’re just there to listen to him and help him feel better whenever he’s feeling down or something’s been bothering him

he’s hasn’t told you yet, but kindaichi probably likes you but he’s to shy to say anything to you about it

he’s perfectly content with having you all to himself for the time being

on the weekends you always go over to his house to watch horror movies and have a sleepover after, it’s hilarious because he makes the same cold expression at the screen the entire time

but if you get scared, he’ll squeeze your hand and tell you not to be afraid

if you need to keep a nightlight on when you’re trying to fall asleep he doesn’t care, he just doesn’t want you to feel scared

he doesn’t say it a lot, but he really does care about you

he’s uncharacteristically sad the day you graduate and hates to see you go, he doesn’t want it to end

hugs you tight and drives you home after your promotion ceremony and you stay over at his house like old times

you, him, and kindaichi still stay close in university and get together whenever you can:)

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takoyakitenchou · 3 years

Text

masquerade ch.10

im back (fr this time)

“I always knew you were weird,” Akira muttered when they got onto the skydeck turned landing pad. He and Hisako had just graduated from their respective colleges and now they, Souma, and the Denmark Nakiris were gathered on top of the Copenhagen penthouse for some quality catching up. There was no doubt that the day would end in another round of shokugekis.

“Rude!” Alice pouted as she set down a large blanket and a few red Solo cups in the shade of Ryo’s new helicopter. “I just happened to buy my amazing husband a gift! Besides, he has a license now and having a charter plane is fun.”

“You talk as if your family doesn’t own three private jets,” Akira pointed out, pouring draft beer from a two-liter pitcher.

Alice waved this off with an annoyed flap of her hand. “Hayama, when are you and Hishoko gonna get married?”

“We’re twenty-two,” Hisako pointed out dully. “And don’t call me Hishoko.”

“I’m not, Hishoko. However, as the official matchmaker of the Nakiri Faction, I must insist that you get the hell on with it already.”

“Nakiri Faction?” Akira inquired.

“Yes! You’ve been an honorary member since you assisted my booth at the festival in first year.”

“You mean Jun’s—”

“And you and Hishoko are going to get married in like… two days, so she’s automatically a part of the faction as well now!”

Souma laughed as he took out a few boxes neatly packed with onigiri. “Yo, Arato, did you buy Hayama a helicopter yet?”

Hisako raised an eyebrow. “No,” she smiled with a teasing air. “But he bought us a company.”

The red-haired chef spat out his Lagunitas IPA. “What!?”

“Yeah, I bought Habui,” Akira said casually, as if he were talking about bargain eggs.

“Holy shit! Is that why you were on the front cover of Forbes!?”

“It’s been the only thing on the news for the last week, Yukihira,” he replied drily.

Alice added, “It was definitely a shock at first, though.”

True—it took her a full hour of staring at the magazine to properly process the fact that twirling his Phi Beta Kappa key around his finger and still wearing his graduation gown, the fresh Columbia graduate had dethroned the Sendawara sisters with a phrase that would become legend—“My nose can make better curry than your hands.” How he’d made that much bank as a college student was up to debate, but nobody questioned the fact that he was the new CEO of Habui.

“Tokyo will be our home base,” Hisako said, staring speculatively into her cup. “I’m starting med school at Johns Hopkins in the fall but after Innlausn opens next month Akira will probably be moving back to Japan.”

Souma’s eyes widened. “Wait! I just had an idea. Why don’t you guys stay at my place in Evanston for the startup period?”

“You’re only saying that because you want us to be indebted to you so we don’t run your ass out of Illinois,” Akira scoffed.

“Cruel,” Souma retorted, feigning hurt. “I’m just being nice. Right, Arato?”

“I mean, I’ll take you up on it,” Hisako grinned, and she and Souma exchanged a fist bump. “We owe you one.”

“No, we do not! Don’t say things like that to him!”

Alice smirked at this. “Oh, yeah? You only got your Chicago floorspace because Yukihira’s journalist girlfriend pulled strings with the contractors.” She paused for a second, then whirled on Souma. “By the way, Yukihira. You’re getting pretty serious with Erina again, aren’t you? What a fuckboy. Two girls at once?”

A vein pulsed in Souma’s temple. “Oh, shut the fuck up. I’m single and Erina doesn’t like me like that anymore.”

“Baseless assumption!” Ryo bellowed.

They all laughed at this — the story of the spontaneous kiss after Origin’s opening night had circulated among the friend group and now they were placing bets as to when the former first and second seats of the Elite Ten would finally quit beating around the damn bush. Souma, who had been too embarrassed to call Erina since the debut, had chosen to aggressively not participate.

Within moments, they were all rolling up their sleeves and getting their hair out of the way to crack down on each other in a shokugeki themed “obscenely expensive”. They had just raided Alice and Ryo’s apartment-sized kitchen, making vulgar comments on how Akira had only bought Habui because he was still salty about Sendawara Natsume hitting on him during the Elections and talking general shit like they hadn’t already earned each other’s highest respect, when Hisako’s phone rang.

Everyone leaned over the doctor-restaurateur’s shoulder to see just who the hell would dare interrupt their shokugeki episode.

Incoming FaceTime call from: Nakiri Erina

Before Hisako could even answer the call, Souma dropped his knife and bolted for the door. His flight was cut short by Ryo, who grabbed his collar and yanked him backwards. “The fuck you going?”

“F-finland,” Souma squeaked, his arms and legs in frantic motion.

“Oh no you are not,” Akira snapped, shoving Souma back over to Hisako, who was greeting Erina over FT. “Take responsibility for your dumbassery.”

The blonde chef dropped her phone when Souma entered the frame. “Y-yukihira!?”

“Um… yo…? Nakiri? Sup?”

Erina was already blushing, but she managed to say, “Nothing much. You?”

Hisako passed the phone to Souma with an expression of amusement, who nervously combed his fingers through his hair and started moving around to find better lighting. “I’m uh… not doing anything either. Where you at?”

“I’m in Tokyo,” Erina said. “At dinner with—”

“Yukihira!” Asahi grinned, popping into view.

Erina looked a little disgruntled as the two proceeded to treat each other like the brothers-in-law they were probably going to be (hahah the foreshadowing).

The rest of the Nakiri family greeted Souma and asked him if he knew where the hell Jou had disappeared to this time, and obviously Souma had no clue, but it really did seem like things would work out between the two families after all. Once it was just Erina watching him silently through the screen, Souma gave a slow smile and said, “Good seeing you again, Nakiri. I guess I’ll…”

Erina asked hesitantly, “Are you free later? Maybe around midnight my time?”

Shrugging, Souma answered, “Should be. Why?”

“N-no, it’s nothing. Never mind. Goodbye.”

“I’ll call you,” Souma offered.

Erina’s ears turned red. “If you insist, I will pick up your call.”

“Sounds great.” Souma passed the phone back to Hisako and sat down grinning like a foolish idiot.

Alice had been watching the whole interaction with mild amusement, and now she tapped the kitchen counter for attention, first dibs on the truffle oil long forgotten.

“So, Yukihira. You still think she doesn’t like you?”

#shokugeki no souma #yukihira souma #nakiri erina #sorina #soueri

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ukiyo-vibes · 3 years

Note

Ooo, heard you needed some writing requests from a little birdie, anywho, may I have an S/O who gets saved from a bully by Fuyuhiko? It can go any direction you would like from how Fuyu saved the S/O to how he cared for their wounds (if S/O had any), but it should end with some fluff. Let your imagination run ^^

First request, baby! I actually really enjoy writing for Fuyuhiko, so thanks, I guess.

(Oh wow this turned out really long sorryyyy)

Fuyuhiko Saving his S/O from Bullies

You walked down the halls as dozens of other students streamed past you, keeping your head down so they didn't recognize you. But when you turned the corner into a more empty hallway, you realized it didn't matter. Two boys and a girl were huddled around an open locker, as one of the boys took textbooks and homework out. You figured it must be his locker, but at this point it didn't matter. Your next class was just past them, and you couldn't walk around the other way cause you were already running late.

Timidly, you tried to sneak past them, but to your disdain, you suddenly heard a female voice behind you. "Hey!"

Flinching, you turned only to be greeted by the face of Komatsu Akira, hands on her hips and wavy blonde hair flowing down her shoulders. "Don't think I didn't see you over here." The rest of the trio, the tall, attractive Suzuki and notoriously aggressive Hayakawa, joined her on either side, grinning maliciously.

"W-what do you want?" you stammered. You tried to act confident, but inside, you were terrified of them. And you had every reason to be. These three had been the popular, mean kids for as long as you could remember, and for some reason they had chosen you as their target.

"Wha, wha, what do you think?" Suzuki laughed, mocking your stutter. "We want what we always want."

"Yeah, cough up, bitch! Where's the booze at?" Hayakawa nabbed your backpack from your hands, and despite your protests, started ruffling through it. You trembled, because you knew you hadn't gotten it. Why would you? You weren't gonna risk going to jail to support a couple teenagers' alcohol addictions.

While this was happening, Komatsu was roughing you up, shoving your back against the locker and getting up in your face. You could see Hayakawa's face getting more and more frustrated as he searched through your pockets, and you knew it was only a matter of time before he gave up, and you would be punished in some sort of humiliating way. Last time, they wrote "IDIOT" on your forehead in permanent marker, and it took almost a week to wash off. You shuddered thinking about what else they could come up with.

But then, just as you thought it was finally going to happen, someone turned the corner. You recognized the boy from a couple of your classes, but you never learned his name. He had a pretty small build, with short, blond hair. From what you'd seen of him, he seemed kind of aggressive, which was partly why you stayed away from him.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing?" he shouted down the hallway." The group immediately turned towards the sound, and you heard Hayakawa curse quietly. You looked over at Suzuki and noticed that he looked completely pale. You didn't know why, the boy wasn't exactly super intimidating.

"Hey, mind your own business, why don't you?" Komatsu retorted angrily. The boy ignored her, and ran over to you. You silently thanked him. After all, who knows what could've happened if he hadn't interrupted?

He snatched your backpack from Hayakawa's hands and glared at him. "You were going through her stuff, weren't you?" You stared at the ground, wishing this whole day could just be over. "Yeah, what's it to ya? Get outa here, this isn't about you." Hayakawa reached for the bag again, but the boy swatted his hand away.

Suzuki leaned over Hayakawa's shoulder. "D-dude, I think we should go," he stammered, nervously. Komatsu made a face. "What are you so afraid of?" Meanwhile, the boy held his stare.

"Here are your options right now," he said, venom dripping from his words. "Either you get the fuck out of here and never let me see your faces again, or I get you expelled."

"Expelled?! Ha! Yeah right, pussy." Komatsu laughed in his face. Even you had to admit, he sounded like he was spouting off a copypasta. But Suzuki looked absolutely petrified.

"Guys seriously, let's go," he urged. Hayakawa turned to him, astounded. "What? Dude, you can't seriously be afraid of this kid."

"Bro, that's Fuyuhiko. As in Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu?"

"Wait, Kuzuryuu?" Komatsu's confidence faltered. She thought for a moment, and then her expression fell. "You don't mean..."

Meanwhile, Hayakawa was having the same reaction. Now you were really confused. This Fuyuhiko guy claimed to have enough power to get these kids expelled, and his name made the teenagers who had been terrorizing her for months now practically wet their pants? What the hell was going on here?

"Yep, that's right. Now scram." The bullies immediately scrambled away like scared little puppies. You watched them run away in awe. Did this mean that it was finally over? No more having to steal alcohol and risk going to jail for those jerks? You almost broke down crying, you were so happy.

Fuyuhiko rushed over by your side. "Are you okay? It looked like they were roughing you up pretty good."

You blushed. "N-no, I'm okay," you said softly. Then, you remembered how everything went down, and you were suddenly confused again. "So wait, what was all that?"

He grinned sheepishly. "I... might be a mob boss?"

Your jaw dropped. Surely he was kidding, right? Then again, that would make sense as to why he influence over the headmaster. But still, how could you not have known something like this??

Even though you said you were fine, he still checked your arms for any bruises. As his fingertips grazed your shoulders, the two of you held eye contact for a couple seconds. You took in the way the sunlight glinted off his eyes, and the grooves carved into the side of his hair, until you both realized how awkward things were getting. You looked away from each other, laughing a little. Obviously you weren't in love with the guy you just met...

..were you?

{fin}

#💚 Mod Rantaro 💚#Danganronpa #Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu #Fuyuhiko x reader

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philliamwrites · 3 years

Text

One Fool's Heart [Rank 10]

Fandom: Persona 5

Pairing: Akira / Reader, later: Akira / Akechi (one-sided)

Warnings: age difference, consensual underage romance, implied/referenced self-harm, implied/referenced child abuse, references to depression, unreliable narrator, angst, hurt & comfort, p3 cameos, p4 cameos, no persona 5 royal spoilers

Summary: All you wanted was a nice part time job to scrape by. But if you had known how much of a smug sass-master Akira Kurusu would turn out to be, you’d have thought twice about agreeing to tutor him.

Notes: Rank 9 | Epilogue Masterlist

[Rank 10]

[you]: Hey, just wanted to know if you ’re doing good and maybe wanna meet up? Food’s on me.

It’s the second day without a reply and at this point it’s fair to say you’re getting paranoid. The only news circling around the Phantom Thieves is from news station, more specifically from that rat Akechi who prides himself on capturing the leader after infiltrating their group.

Next time you see him, you’re going to strangle him with your bare hands—not in the kinky way.

Not that Akira’s lack of reply is necessarily connected to the Phantom Thieves’ leader, you still try to reason on your way to the library to finally return books you have been keeping to yourself for months. It’s built underground with rows of books lining the walls and enough space in between for students to sit cross legged on the ground, balancing books and notebooks on their knees. The night entrance on the ground floor has been malfunctioning since weeks now, a fact you aren’t comfortable knowing because it suggests you’ve been spending more time here than at home.

Maybe he’s just lost his phone, you think now, descending the stairs to the return terminals. Kids these days tend to misplace their stuff at the most ridiculous places, don’t they? Who says he didn’t forget his phone in the nook of a cinema seat after watching The Cake Knight Rises for the third time in a row.

But no matter what explanation you try to come up with, Concerned Girlfriend is written on your forehead in neon colours, blinking non-stop like emergency lights. Narukami has noticed it as well but bore your restless fidgeting with stoic patience like a monk.

“If he doesn’t answer today, why not go check on him?” he asked this morning after you returned from the canteen and spilt half of your coffee on some poor freshman’s coat. Rummaging in your pockets, you only found a wrinkled, almost expired free taco coupon as compensation, and pushed that into her clammy hands.

“And give the impression I need to know what he’s up to 24/7?” You sipped the little that was left in your cup, grumpy and worried and without a free taco to look forward to.

“Yes, because if Kurusu sees that you care he’ll think it’s something bad.” Narukami’s voice was drier than the potato croquettes lying on his plate.

No need telling him he was right, but aside from assuming the worst with the Phantom Thieves’ leader dead and Akira not replying to your messages, you’re also dealing with the aftermath of your dad’s confession and Kinoe’s transfer to another clinic. A red circle marks Wednesday next week as the date you’ll finally see your brother again for a long overdue talk. Just thinking about it sets your heart rate to unhealthy velocity, the muscle beating hard enough to bruise your ribs from the inside. Is it possible to be apart from someone, who is so much part of you, for so long that this piece still fits perfectly inside the puzzle that depicts most of your life? Maybe not. But boy, aren’t you determined to stomp that piece into place if you need to.

But one step at the time, for now you need the answer to the question keeping you up at night for the last three days, and as you wait for your turn at one of the return terminals, God must have listened to your prayers and decided you’ve suffered enough.

[akira]: come to leblanc

The words barely register in your mind but your body moves on its own just fine. You cut right to the front, past the protests and complains and shove a guy out of the way.

“What the—”

“So sorry, I just got a message that my cat finally returned home,” you tell him, out of breath and already dropping the books on the conveyor belt without waiting for his answer or to see if there are loaning fees. Probably yes. But that isn’t important right now. What’s important is to get on the next train to Yongen and see the very guy for yourself in the flesh, otherwise you won’t believe it.

One thing you can rely on about Leblanc is that it never changes. The fan in the back of the room hums quietly, whirling tiny dust particles into the air so they float like diamond dust under the low hanging multicoloured glass lampshades. Low mumbling comes from the TV, the screen of it obscured by the hunching figure sitting at the bar, absentmindedly stirring in a cup while his gaze is fixed on an invisible spot on the wall. When the door falls shut behind you, he flinches so hard he knocks an empty plate across the counter. Wide eyes lock with yours—a deer caught in the headlights—and you inhale sharply at the sight of him.

Akira must have missed out on the rule of consistency inside these walls. His hood is up, not quite hiding his face but the shadow falling over his features does an excellent job obscuring what he’s thinking. Without his glasses, he seems softer and more innocent, but that imagine is quickly torn apart by the fading bruises and scratches on his face. His appearance freezes you first, but that cold is quickly replaced by a hot burning worry that fuels your body to close the distance and make your way across the room. Akira watches with wild, big eyes like an animal that still hasn’t decided if it should run or fight. You stop an arm’s length away, feeling you’ve encountered more of a statue that’s been left at the same place for centuries.

“What happened,” you ask, already expecting he won’t tell you the truth despite everything you’ve been through by now. That will stop today. You won’t let him run because you too have decided to stop running.

Akira takes his time, his eyes shifting over your face, a solid touch on your skin before he looks down at his lap, and only now you notice Morgana curled up on his legs.

“I walked into a door,” he says after a moment, his voice lacking the motivation to convey a solid lie. It seems you aren’t the only one tired of this exhausting back and forth.

“That so?” You cross your arms, giving him a scrutinising look. “You look like someone beat you up.”

The muscles tense in Akira’s back. “Okay. Yeah, you’re right.” He pauses for a second, the only sound the constant tap tap tap of his feet against the wooden floor. “It was Morgana. I got into a fight with him and it was really nasty.”

Morgana hisses, and you can’t blame him. This joke isn’t funny at all. But considering Akira longer, he appears to be a different person altogether. His hunched shoulders aren’t novelty, but the way he’s slouching now is an unread page in a usual so familiar book. This page appears ripped, crumpled. Barely hanging onto the rest as though it might fly away any second but what’s written on it compromises a good half of everything that makes Akira the person he is.

Instead of charging your way further into the matter like a furious bull chasing its rider, you try to gently unlock the closed doors without doing any damage to the lock. Taking the free seat beside him, you wiggle out of your trench coat and let it slide against the backrest. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

He gives an affirmative hum and allows Morgana to switch from his to your lap. “They let us stay at home due to staff meetings this week.”

“And all the Shujin students I saw this morning at the subway station didn’t get that message?”

Akira purses his lips, his silence a statement that he doesn’t bother to think about a better explanation. His resolution to keep whatever really happened to himself is crumbling, but it doesn’t really feel like a victory. “You’ve heard the news, right,” he says after a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “The great Detective Prince infiltrated the Phantom Thieves and brought their leader to the police.”

You can hear the first door swinging open and intertwine your fingers to keep them steady—much to Morgana’s disappointment. Without the outlook of being patted, he jumps off and disappears upstairs.

“It’s the only thing everyone’s been talking about,” you say, and because you’ve never actually opened a lock all stealthily, you tear it down with a sledgehammer with your next words, “Is that why he was so much around you? So he could have better access to the Phantom Thieves and take down your leader?”

Akira remains quiet for a solid minute, his face an impassive mask—the cold expression of a marble angel bearing down on visitors inside a church. The statue breaks when he slumps down and smooshes his cheek against the bar’s wooden surface. “How does this keep happening with everyone.”

“Huh?”

He gives a sorry performance of shaking his head. “Never mind. It’s because of your dad, right. It worked out way too good for you, right?”

“No, I heard Ryuji shouting you were phantom thieves during a phone call last time. That’s it.”

Akira’s face is blank when he sits up again. “Yeah… to be honest, I’m surprised half of Shibuya hasn’t figured it out yet.”

“Phantom thief,” you repeat, and start playing with the cup’s handle, its contents long gone cold. “You have to tell me how you’re changing hearts. How did you become one? What’s the entry criteria?” Your head snaps to him, eyes the same size as the dinner plate. “Can I become one too?”

Taking the cup from you before you swirl it off the edge, he gets up and brings the dishes to the sink. “I think no matter what I’m going to tell you, you’re not gonna believe it.”

“Humour me.”

So while taking his time doing the dishes, Akira starts to tell you about cognitive psience and the Metaverse. How the warped desires of a person can form a palace, where its ruler’s true thoughts and wishes determine everything. When it all started with Kamoshida in April he thought it would be a one time deal. But things escalated and spiralled into this uncontrollable fiasco that exploded in his face after he dealt with Medjed.

“I know this all sounds crazy,” he says, his back still to you. “But that’s basically changing someone’s heart.”

“So what you’re saying is that you infiltrate a ‘reality’ that exists solely for your target, one that is wholly separated from the one that the public recognises,” you sum up, the gears in your head spinning as you process this info—which now that you say it out loud does make sense. “And by stealing the manifestation of their desires, you also remove the root of their distortion and by doing that change their cognition.”

“Of course you’d get it.” Akira sounds like he might be smiling but it sounds too weak, so you aren’t entirely sure. A little hesitantly, you continue, “But then president Okumura died. So how was that different from your heists before?”

“Yeah, then Okumura died,” Akira acknowledges. Only because you’ve been watching him like a hawk, you notice the tremble in his shoulders. “But it wasn’t us,” he says, turning around. His voice is firm, a steel cord that sounds in striking contrast to the look of utter devastation on his face. Your only answer is a trembling breath that disperses in fright because nothing should be able to put that kind of expression on anyone’s face without facing the punishment of a God.

“When you told me you didn’t believe it was the Phantom Thieves, I was so happy,” Akira continues, and now the words are gushing out of him in a steady flow of anxiety and impatience. “You know who else didn’t believe it was us. Akechi.” He’s pacing back and forth behind the counter now, impatiently wiping over his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. “And then he came to us and worked with us on our last heist because apparently he could go into the Metaverse too and he had a Persona too and this really flashy white outfit with this mask that stabs your eye out if you get too close which is—” He barks a humourless laughter, a horrible sound, upon realising something, and the grin on his face is ghastly, horrible. It’s like watching a corpse smile. “It just tells a lot about him now that I think about it.”

“What’s a Perso—”

“But this isn’t about how good Akechi looks in his stupid tight white pants. This is about how he’s a snake, and that next time I’ll see him, I’m going to strangle him. And I don’t mean in a kinky way.” Akira finally stops pacing, staring daggers at the entrance as if talking about the detective might magically summon him so Akira can demonstrate that he’s true to his words. When the silence stretches on a little too long, you want to tell him that his thoughts are okay because you thought exactly—exactly the same this morning, and if this doesn’t make you two soulmates nothing else can. But then Akira sinks to his knees and disappears behind the counter and you hear one single, guttural sob that makes you stand in your seat.

Jumping over the counter would be the right course of action if you didn’t fear it would tingle Boss’s owner senses and make him rush to Leblanc to see what’s happening in his sacred halls. But you still nearly trip over your feet in hurry to get behind the counter where Akira is crouching, face pressed against his crossed arms so the fabric muffles his cries. Two steps are enough to be by his side, only the physical proximity has never been a natural assurance that whatever pain the heart feels is conveyed as well.

Each sob shakes him like the strike of a whip. Hesitation only holds you back because he seems so much like a wounded animal with nowhere to escape to, and you don’t have the equipment to handle that. The only thing you can do now is assure him you’re here should he need you. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you wait until his little hiccups grow quieter and quieter, and after what feels like hours, he finally looks up, eyes a striking grey like stainless steel sheets.

“I really want to hate him,” he rasps, wiping his runny nose with the back of his sleeve.

You wipe away the remaining strains of tears from his cheeks with your thumbs and wish the same thing. “We both know you don’t,” you say instead because this is Akira and his heart has never just strayed from the path it has set on.

His reply is a sulky sniff but he doesn’t protest.

“You told me you were thinking of Akechi for different reasons than I thought,” you start now, hands still on him so you feel his hot cheeks burning under your wet palms. “You didn’t … know he was going to betray you, did you?”

Akira lowers his eyes and bites his lower lip. “Knowing it doesn’t make it less painful.”

“Of course not.” You tug at the hem of his hood, asking for permission to pull it back. He hesitates, but nods and with it gone the damage on his face isn’t as bad as previously assumed. The faded bruises have turned to a yellowish green. Some are disappearing behind his hoodie’s neckline and you can only imagine what the rest of his body must look like. “Did Akechi do this to you?”

“He didn’t beat me up.”

“Then who—”

“Can we talk about something else,” he says, about to get up on his feet. “I suspect you have a lot more questions about altering someone’s cognition and the Metaverse.”

You snatch his wrist—and immediately let go when Akira’s muscles lock up in one solid, tight block. He stumbles backward, pulling his sleeves over his hands but not without you noticing the angry red marks around his wrists first. “Akira—”

“It’s fine,” he snaps, climbing to his feet and retreating to the other side of the counter. The rejection is a knife twisting in your gut, but this isn’t about you. Whatever physical abuse he’s suffered, it left a scar on his mental state and if there was ever a bad time trying to bust with your head through a wall it has come.

“Okay, I won’t ask more about that,” you promise, raising both hands to show you don’t mean harm. After returning to your seat at the counter, eyes carefully on Akira who has his hands shoved deep in his pockets, leaning back and forth with regret written blatantly on his face, you pat the free seat beside you, asking for him to come closer.

Akira hesitates, his eyes never leaving your face. After the initial shock has subsided, he makes his way over to you. The cushion creaks slightly under his weight.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “Kinda caught me off guard there.”

“You don’t have to apologise for anything.” When it looks like he’s about to protest, you quickly continue, “And you were right. I have a lot of questions about this world and what steps you undertake to override someone’s cognition. But that can wait. There’s something important I have to do first.”

You slide a little to the side, allowing more room for you to move, and lower your upper body in a bow. “Thank you for changing my father’s heart.” Akira makes a strange sound, and when you look up, he’s staring intently up at the ceiling, a flush creeping up his neck. “He called me and apologised. Looks like once Kinoe’s transfer proceeds smoothly, he’ll go to court and take this doctor who helped him with him.”

“That’s good to hear.” Finally, a genuine smile breaks out on Akira’s face, making him look more like the sassy teenage boy you’re used to see. “I hope wherever your brother will be next, it’ll be better.”

You nod. “We’re all making sure of that. I’ll see him next week. There is so much I have to tell him.” How much you’ve missed him for starters. Just imagining how the conversation might go turns your nerves raw.

“I should be able to go outside again next week as well,” Akira starts slowly, brushing curls behind his ears as he pulls out his phone. Instead of unlocking the screen, he simply stares at his own reflection. “And you are … really okay? With me being a phantom thief?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

He looks up, an eyebrow raised like he can’t believe you don’t come up with the answer yourself. “I do remember you hated us at the beginning.”

“And I remember my attitude changed after Kaneshiro. It’s hard to think of you as the bad guys after seeing for myself how you helped me and my family.” You scoot a little closer to him, careful not to touch him. “Besides, you were Akira to me before you were a phantom thief, okay?”

He nods.

“I wish I could say as long as it isn’t dangerous, I don’t really care, but—” Your eyes roam over his face, the sight squeezing your chest again. “Guess that’s too late.”

“They’ll fade.” Akira absentmindedly brushes over his bruises. When he sees you still staring at him, a crooked smile spreads over his face. “Am I still pretty?”

It’s meant as a joke, a fine technique to make light of the matter you have no interest to join in. “You’re beautiful,” you say, locking eyes with him. “Outside and inside, you are one of the most beautiful people I have had the honour to meet, Akira.”

Akira averts his gaze, his ears pink; phone forgotten on the counter. “W-why, thank you.”

“I can’t do amazing stuff like changing someone’s heart, but I will do my best so you can rely on me in the future,” you continue, finally moving into gear to spill your heart out after the initial lack of courage. Pleased to see the flush settles on his cheeks next, you place your hand on the counter, palms up, an invitation. Akira presses his lips into a thin line and closes his hand over yours, his fingers warm and soft against your skin. It’s the last little push you needed.

“When you didn’t answer my texts, I imagined the worst,” you blurt, feeling your face ablaze. “I thought I would never be able to see you again, or hold you, and it just showed me how important you are to me, and that I wouldn’t let you go for anything in the world—”

“Okay, time out, time out.” Akira’s free hands shots up, covering his face, but even when he turns around to hide the embarrassment from you, the flush has crept down to his neck and disappears behind his collar. He exhales audibly, his fingers between yours slightly trembling. You wish you could just take him and put him in your pocket and keep him to yourself forever.

“A simple I love you would have worked too, you know,” he mumbles, finally turning around to allow you a clear sight of his crimson red face.

You bite your lower lip to control your grin. “I highly doubt that would have given me the same reaction.” You squeeze his hand. “It was a really beautiful reaction.”

Akira mutters to himself, running a hand through his unruly locks. “Someone’s awfully honest all of a sudden.”

“What can I say. You bring the best out of me.” You bring his hand up to your mouth and kiss his knuckles. Akira gives a tiny high-pitched squeal, like you two haven’t already shoved your tongues down each other’s throat but this simple skin contact is the pinnacle of intimacy.

“So, Ryuji is a phantom thief. Am I right to assume that the rest of your friends is also part of it? Ann and that student council president?”

Akira strokes your skin with his thumb. “Not telling names.”

“Do you guys have costumes as well and all that?”

“Yup.”

“Tell me who looks the best.”

Akira snorts. “Me of course.”

“What exactly are these personas you talked about?”

“I think I’ll make more coffee since you keep bombarding me with questions.”

You allow him to wiggle out of your grip and watch him work behind the counter, listening to his crazy story about a man with a long nose and mythical creatures residing in every person. A crazy, unbelievable story and yet something inside you just refuses to think that he’s lying. Why should it be impossible if you’ve seen what can only be magic happen to your dad. Not to mention that this sounds impossible to come up with in the first place.

“Sounds like you’ve been really busy the past half year,” you say, drinking the last drop of cold coffee from your cup.

Akira gives a dry laugh. “You tell me.” His hands are busy picking nuts from a bowl he’s picked up from behind the corner. He looks like squirrel hoarding food in his cheeks. “I first thought it’s something in the city air that made me trip balls.”

“I’m just glad everything worked out somehow. That stunt you pulled on Akechi sounds like it’s right out of a mystery thriller.”

A shadow falls over Akira’s face. “You won’t tell him anything if you see him, right?”

“Of course not.” You hesitate, thinking about telling him that from the few encounters and private talks you had with the detective, you actually really did get the feeling that Akira was someone special to Akechi. But the relief on Akira’s face makes you pause, and you aren’t sure if bringing that up right now is a good idea. It was him last time welcoming you to a safe home with open arms, and this time you’re gladly the one returning the gesture.

You should have known the moment you reached your floor and smelled the nice aroma of a home-cooked meal that the only possible source was your apartment. It hits your nose like a brick wall when you unlock the front door, drawing you to the kitchen.

Akira is standing in front of the stove, stirring in a pot—a sight so domestic and soft, it makes your knees go weak and takes up all your focus to just control your breathing. Giving him your spare really was the best decision in your whole life.

“Woah, you okay?” Akira’s voice draws closer, so you hold both hands up to show that you just need a little break.

“Yeah, just— Gimme a sec.”

“Slow down. I’m sure meeting your brother was really something after all this time.” He’s by your side, helping you up to your feet and you just go along with his reasoning instead of stroking his ego and admitting it’s his sight in your home that got you down on your knees.

Now comfortable on your couch, you wait for Akira to serve whatever he’s prepared. No one is surprised when he places a plate of curry in front of you.

“Do you only know how to make curry?” you ask, but dig in anyway.

“I also know how to use a microwave.”

“No wonder you’re so popular with the ladies.”

“And gentlemen,” he adds.

The curry tastes delicious as always—a soft bitter note harmonises perfectly with the savoury chicken. While you eat, Akira watches you with curios eyes, his legs bouncing up and down as he waits for you to tell him about the reunion.

It’s hard to think about where to start. The staff had organised a private room on the upper floor, far away from Oyamada’s office and hidden from prying eyes. So far the scandal hadn’t made it into the news and you hoped it would stay that way—for your brother’s and your own sanity.

The room was smaller than the public visiting room, decorated with a few house plants on the windowsills and a couch pushed against one wall. In the middle, a table and two chairs stood, both unoccupied. Only one visitor was standing in front of the windows, back turned to you as he gazed outside at the traffic.

Your voice simply decided to abandon you. Legs rooted in front of the entrance; no day dreaming could have prepared you for the real deal. Clammy hands that felt foreign tried to find purchase. The sound of fabric moving made the boy turn around and then you stared at a mirror image of your face—the differences only perceptible in the little details like jaw width and eye size. It had been around a year since you last saw Kinoe but he hadn’t changed a bit. Hair still cut a little above his ears, the colour the same as yours, and a posture that would have your grandmother crawl out of her grave. He opened his mouth slightly, only pausing because you did the same, and then you both called each other’s name in unison and broke the spell binding you immobile.

Your bodies crashed together, two magnets clicking into place and the world returned to its natural order. Arms slung tightly around each other so that you’re left breathless, you clung onto your brother. Ah, you realised, holding him like your life depended on it, so that’s what I’ve been missing this whole time.

Kinoe mumbled unintelligible words into your shoulder, the fabric of your jacket turning wet from his tears. Gently, you untangled your arms from his upper body and cradled his face in your hands, following the curve of his jaw with your thumbs.

“I’ve missed you too,” you said, sight blurred by hot tears. Hands still tightly intertwined, you moved over to the chairs and sat down. Kinoe tried to dry his cheeks with the sleeve of his sweatshirt but the stream kept flowing unhindered and it irritated the angry red skin around his eyes even more, so you stopped him by pushing his hands flat against the table’s surface. He squirmed in response, making you believe first he didn’t want to be touched, but then you looked down and saw how he was trying to keep his wrists hidden like a secret—but there was no point in hiding what everyone already knew and you felt like you had looked away for too long.

“I heard you’ll be transferred to Minato Mita Clinic,” you said. “That’s close to my university.”

“That means you’ll visit more often, right?” The hope in his voice made you flinch like hearing nails scratching on a black board.

“I— I did try to visit you.” Making that clear was the only thing you could think about. “When I heard what was really happening, I tried everything to get you out.”

“Oh, I know.” Kinoe shrugged like it was no big deal. “They told me. Whenever you came to visit but Dr. Oyamada wouldn’t allow it. The kind nurses told me you came to see me.”

The weight off your mind allowed you to lift off. At the same time, you realised it was stupid of you to doubt Kinoe in the first place—your own fears made you think he stopped believing in you and thinking about facing that slowed you down. How much faster everything could had been resolved if you’d only stopped thinking of yourself.

Kinoe noticed your thoughts drift elsewhere; he squeezed your hands until your attention was back on him before he continued, “Though I wonder why Dad suddenly decided to change faculties. Did you talk to him?”

“Sort of.” You wished you could tell him Dad decided about the change himself and didn’t need a group of outsiders to show him what he had done was wrong. “I heard Oyamada talking to Dad. About their arrangement concerning you.”

“Hmm.” Kinoe’s eyes wandered back to the window. An ambulance’s siren blared outside for a moment, quickly fading into distance as it passed the building. Kinoe loosened his grip on your hands.

“I never wanted you to find out like this. I always imagined if you found out, it was me telling you after I got better.”

“Everything would have been different if I’d only tried a little harder to help you.”

Kinoe narrowed his eyes at you. “What are you talking about. You’ve always been the only one who really cared and tried.”

He shouldn’t be the one comforting you—always the one, playing along whenever you sulked or behaved especially petty. Being older by a few minutes had never made it into your brain to also act older and seeing how he was still looking out for you felt like a fist clenching around your heart.

“Remember when we opened the window to look at the parade and knocked over mom’s china vase? Mom thought I did it on purpose so she couldn’t hold her weekly get-together with her friends because I didn’t bring a high test score home and was ashamed of that.” A faint smile danced on his lips. It took a moment for you to remember. “You took the blame. Just out of spite,” he continued with a little laugh. “And never bothered to ask if Mom was right or not. I remember that a lot lately. It helps when things get … difficult.”

“I remember. Though I never knew if she was right.”

Kinoe gave you a sheepish smile. “She was. But I didn’t do it because of my bad grades. I didn’t like her friends at the time.”

“Mom’s friends were … something,” you agreed, remembering what gigantic fuzz they’d made each time you twins entered the room and were not groomed like expensive porcelain dolls imported from Europe.

“She’s probably losing her mind right now.” Kinoe was smiling, but you could hear the strain in his voice. “Makes me sort of want to know what she’s telling her friends to save our family’s reputation.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Your objection came out a little more heated than wanted. Kinoe flinched, his eyes wide. “Mom and Dad are getting a divorce, so you don’t have to worry about stupid stuff like that.”

“They what?”

“Yeah, Dad told me. I wish I could tell you I was shocked or hurt to hear that … but think about it. When was the last time you saw them support each other or show some sort of affection?”

A worry crease found its way between his eyebrows—looking so familiar you unconsciously rose a thumb to knead away yours which wasn’t there yet. Kinoe saw the gesture and smiled weakly. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing of this is your fault.”

“Maybe. I don’t think my brain cares about that though.”

Even though you had years to mentally prepare yourself for this moment, that preparation flew right out of the window now that you actually sat with him. There was no way to go back now; nowhere to run away to. It wasn’t only your dad who had a change of heart.

“Tell me more about it,” you requested—a question you should had asked him a long time ago instead of leaving him to deal with it on his own.

Kinoe answered with a slightly crooked grin that was a faded image of how he used to do it as a child. “Don’t you know all about it thanks to your classes?”

“No, I want to hear it from you.”

And so he told you. He told you about the day the old him had died. How it started with a thought, how he knew something was wrong. That was the beginning, and even before he realised what it was, it was too late. And then, a second later, there was a strange sensation inside his head. Like it caught on fire, but no one could see it except him.

The hardest parts were always that there was so much going on inside him; the anxiety and panic and fear causing havoc in his mind. And nothing would be shown to the outside; the invisible pain no one would believe to exist.

“I am not okay,” he finished, fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of his sleeve. “But acknowledging that might be the first step in the right direction.”

“I just wish you’d told me earlier. Then maybe I could have stopped Dad from allowing … everything to happen.” There was no point dwelling in the past or wondering about what-ifs, you knew that, and still it was easier to look back instead of forward.

“Back then I thought it would be easier for everyone if I just kept silent.” Kinoe’s voice was frail enough to dissipate into the wind if the windows were open. “I went along with Dad’s proposal because I was happy to keep it a secret.”

“But agreeing to his idea only made it worse—”

“I know.” Kinoe took a shaky breath, fixing his teary gaze on the ceiling. “God, I know, don’t I.”

This sight was so painful, it took your breath away. But worse than that was the knowledge that he was so aware of the pain he’d gone through. Fighting against another wave of tears, you tried to move on quickly. This wasn’t his fault, no way he could have known how much his own father would fail him.

“I’m sorry. Let’s not talk about that. Let’s talk about what will happening next. Your transfer, your new counsellor. If you like, we could see that you live outside the hospital and only come to your sessions.”

“Hmm, I don’t think …” Kinoe was clearly hesitant to continue. You gave him a little nudge, encouraging him. “I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.”

You tried not to show your disappointment too much. “I understand. I’m glad to hear you’re putting what you need first, and not what other people want.”

“There’s still hope for your no-good brother.”

“That never was in doubt.”

Kinoe tilted his head backwards and laughed, and seeing him happy like this, something uncurled in your chest and you were finally able to breathe properly again.

“Maybe I can meet your brother someday,” Akira suggests after you finish. He’s lying half draped over you, one long leg thrown over the backrest of your couch, the other stretched out. His arms are curled around your torso and he shimmies around until his head rests on your thighs. This can’t be comfortable, but Akira hasn’t moved for the last twenty minutes so there must be something he gets out of this position and you’re sure it isn’t only you stroking his unruly hair.

“And have you fall for him? I don’t think so, mister.” Silky black curls glide through your fingers as you try to braid his hair. Akira tilts his head to give you better access. “He’s transferring at the end of this week and said he’ll call once everything is set up.”

“I’m glad everything worked out.” Akira’s fingers dig into your waist. His bruises have faded completely but he still has his hood up whenever you meet outside. Thanks to certain circumstances you see each other more frequently, and even though a good portion of that time is dedicated to have him keep track of his studies and lessons he’s missing, it’s still precious time spent well. On some days, he even stays over, and you’re sure Boss knows about you two. Doesn’t make it easier to know you’ll probably receive the talk from him some day.

The evening ends uneventful. Akira decides to go to bed early because he has stuff to do the next day. You try to show respect by not digging too much into his phantom thief business, and you can see that he’s grateful for that. When he wakes up the next morning, he’s careful to manoeuvre around your lifeless body lying across the mattress.

“Have you seen my jacket?” he calls from the hallway a few minutes later.

You groan, wrap yourself in your blanket and move to the living room where you see Akira jumping on one foot as he tries to get a shoe on the other. The couch is your destination and you fall face first into it.

“You can take one of my trench coats,” you tell him, curling into a ball to preserve warmth.

Akira finally manages to put a shoe on. “You don’t actually think anything you have is going to fit me.”

You tell him about this one time you and Narukami got wasted and woke up with the worst hangover the next morning. He couldn’t find his jacket as well, so he just borrowed one from you. “You’re not as burly as him, so take whatever you want,” you end, immediately falling asleep right after that. When you wake up later, a trench coat is missing from your coat hook.

As you prepare your daily coffee, a message from Akira pops up, showing a picture of him doing pullups on a beam in his room; the message: getting swol to fight narukami next time i see him.

You zoom into the slight outline of a six-pack and swallow, your mouth suddenly dry. Once responsibility beats the thirst into submission, you reply, you’re a dead man, because never will you forget how Narukami and you arm wrestled once (also drunk) and he almost broke your wrist.

Everything is going a little too well; Kinoe’s first week in the new place goes by smoothly, his counsellor agreed that to slowly steer Kinoe back into the social sphere, he should first set out to familiar places with familiar people. You immediately agreed to go out with him and plan to take little trip outside the city around Christmas so he won’t be overwhelmed by the masses of people, even played with the idea to invite Akira to introduce him to your brother and spend the holiday together.

It’s a repeat of the first December days. Your messages go unanswered, it’s hard to get a hold of him. He did mention there was something important he had to do, phantom thief business no doubt, but now you wish you had tried to get more info out of him. Or at least asked who his new target was. Somehow, you doubt he would have told you. Looks like this time you aren’t patient enough to just wait for a message from him.

Inside Leblanc, only Boss is present. He’s leaning against the counter, attention fixed on the TV until the door shuts behind you. Now that isn’t a happy face if you ever seen one on him, but it does show that he knows what’s going on between you and Akira. The scrutinising look he’s giving you now feels like a solid slap to your face. Before you can say anything, apologise, ask for his blessing, he gives a curt nod towards the stairs.

“He’s been up there all day,” he says in lieu of greeting. “Tell him there’s some curry left he can have. It won’t do good if he gets sick because he’s malnourished.”

“Copy that, sir.” You move past him and his unimpressed raised eyebrows.

The attic is dark safe for a slim, sharp beam of orange streetlight stealing its way through the curtains. You find Akira in his bed, hidden beneath layers of blankets. After slowly manoeuvring through his room, you consider laying on top of him just make him laugh. But maybe that isn’t what he needs right now. Instead you sit on the floor next to his head and lift your hand to pet his hair. You don’t mean to stay for long, but Akira informs you with a hum that he’s awake.

“You okay?” You tug at the strands falling into his eyes. After a moment he turns towards you, but still has his eyes closed. He doesn’t answer you either. Judging from the angry red skin around his eyes, you’re slowly getting a picture of why he’s hiding up here. “I was worried because you didn’t answer my messages. What happened?”

Akira turns on his back, finally opening his eyes. It strikes you again like a sudden flash of light in a dark room, how bright his eyes are when he cries. He just stares at the ceiling for a moment, and you aren’t sure if it’s better to leave and wait until he’s ready to speak. But then he shifts to the other side of his bed and makes room for you, still tightly wrapped in his blanket. The mattress dips when you lie next to him, and it takes some time for Akira before he finally meets your eyes again.

A careful smile as a sign that you’ll hear him out is all you can muster; any words just seem too loud for this silence that seems to stretch on forever. Akira seems to appreciate that. He closes his eyes again when you start stroking black curls behind his ear. Maybe hugging him like a super friendly octopus helps as well, so you slide an arm around him and place your leg on top of his lower part, the blanket enough cushion between you. And then eventually, Akira starts talking.

His story is about the detective boy he met half a year ago, who from the very moment they met had been lying with every breath. Akira still wanted to become his friend, reach out to him. Sometimes, it felt like Akechi reciprocated. More often, it felt like he was so stuck in his role of the splendid, righteous citizen Akira never saw his true self. Somewhere in between that, he fell for Akechi. But in the end, he wasn’t able to truly convey his feelings, his want to at least be friends with him. And now, he’s gone. Maybe forever.

“Should I have been more honest?” he asks, face pressed into his pillow. “Gentler? Would he have allowed me inside his heart then?”

You don’t have the answer for that, but Akira doesn’t seem to want a reply anyway.

He is a silent crier this time, and you can't tell what is worse. To see the pain made visible by heartbreaking wheezing or to imagine how much his heart is hurting right now, unseen, unheard. You want to crawl inside him and take that pain away, even if means that he'll forget the reason for his sorrow. When he falls asleep later, you stay with him and continue to caress his face, run your fingers through his hair. Morgana joins you at some point, squeezing under your arm so he’s tugged between you and Akira. His meow is a soft sound in the darkness, and he nudges Akira’s nose with his paw.

“Me too,” you mumble, scratching Morgana’s ear. “Seeing him like this breaks my heart.”

You lie awake next to him for the next hour, hands folded on your belly as if in prayer. How much pain could a mind bear before breaking. How cruel could fate be to put so much weight on a single pair of frail shoulders—you’ve seen them once, their sublime elegance paired with a fragility that twists your heart painfully. What would you give to take some of the burden from him like he did for you.

Wood creaks near the stairs. When you turn around, Boss’s head peaks over the highest step, locking gazes with you. He waves his hand, asking you to come downstairs. A cup of coffee is already waiting for you at the counter, its smell immediately calming and what has been creeping up the last couple of months overwhelms you now: how much this place feels like a second home, the safety of its walls and care of its denizens.

“I’m guessing he’s told you some things about his … circumstances,” Boss starts the conversation, arms crossed over his chest. You’ve never seen him this bothered before. “Why he’s holed up here and such.”

“If there is anything I could do for him, I would.” You take a small sip from the coffee, its flavour exceptionally rich in depth as always. “Even though this idea of a metaverse sounds crazy.”

Boss nods. His posture slightly relaxes now that he knows you really do know about Akira’s phantom thief escapades. “These are things only he can do. I’ve come to peace with that, even though I don’t like it. But there are other things I can do for him.” A little smile creeps onto his face, and it widens when he sees how eager you down his coffee. “I’m sure the same goes for you, too.”

You don’t even know who to begin thanking for what kind of a person Boss is; and how lucky Akira is to have him as a guardian.

Since it’s getting late, Boss decides to go home, mentioning a daughter waiting for him to prepare dinner and now it doesn’t strike you as odd that he’s looking after Akira with such care. The moment he leaves Leblanc, Akira appears at the bottom of the stairs as if waiting for you two to be alone again. He walks over to the fridge, takes a plate with curry out and pops it in the microwave.

“You really do know how to use a microwave,” you say, unable to bear another stretch of silence. Akira gives a little huff of laughter, watching the plate spin as it’s warmed up. The ping comes a few minutes later, then Akira sits next to you and eats. His eyes are still slightly red, but he doesn’t look as pale.

“We’re halfway through election season, but it seems the victor is already clear.” The newscaster’s voice drifts in from the left, making both your heads turn. “The United Future, led by Mr. Shido, has been dominating the other parties.”

“That dude is everywhere lately,” you notice, thinking back to all the campaign cars driving through the city with politicians promoting their ideals and objectives. Politics has never really interested you, but with the public in uproar about the Phantom Thieves it seems that more and more people hope that this year’s election will bring the country back on the right track. Might as well be a good citizen this time and go vote as well.

“If you could, who would you vote for—” you ask, turning to Akira. The sight of cold contempt on his face seals your mouth shut. You’ve never seen him this angry before. Fist gripping his spoon tight enough to turn his knuckles white, Akira returns to his food and shoves it in his mouth like he’s starving. Fresh tears form a wall in front of his eyes which he wipes away with an angry swipe of his wrist.

“What’s gotten into you? Boss’s curry that delicious?”

Akira mumbles something unintelligible with his mouth full of rice. You push your half-full glass of water over to him before he chokes on his food. He gulps it down like a man dying of thirst.

“I’m done,” he declares, putting his glass back down with more force than necessary. “From today on, I won’t let anyone take away what’s important to me ever again.”

The intense stare he has on you feels like solid iron burning on your skin. Your expression must be the definition of confusion because he points his spoon at the TV screen. “People like him ruin our country. Once I’m old enough, I’m running for prime minister.”

“Has Boss put something weird in your curry?”

Akira throws his arms up in frustration like he can’t believe you don’t understand the magnitude of this conversation. Whatever path he decided to take to deal with his grief, you aren’t sure if it will grant him a happy end in the long run.

“Listen, if you need to talk more about what happened to Akechi, I can listen,” you offer and lean over the counter to search for the TV remote. Akira freezes for a second, then steadies you when you nearly topple off your stool. You turn off the TV and face him. He hasn’t looked like himself lately, and instead like a washed-out version—like part of him was left behind somewhere and to do what he needs to do Akira requires it like another limb or a lung. It’s hard to put it into words. Fearing he might just dissipate, you reach out. Akira mirrors your movement, grasping your hand. Somehow you feel his hands have always been the most honest part about him.

“You know, I once thought you two would hit it off immediately,” he says, pressing his thumb into your open palm.

You’re glad you’ve finished your coffee by now, otherwise you might have spit it right into his face. “You’re joking.”

“You wish I was. But instead of feeling jealous, I saw you standing next to each other and I thought, ‘That’s it. That’s what I want. Those two or no one at all.’” He falls silent for a moment, staring at your open palm like the picture of Akechi and you is engraved in there. His thumb strokes over your skin, smudging the picture. “It took me a little too long to understand that isn’t possible.”

“It probably doesn’t mean anything anymore, but I’m sorry you had to choose.”

Akira gives you a weak smile. “Don’t be. I chose you. And I would choose you any time again because I love you.”

You believe him.

Sometimes, in movies, when people say, “I love you,” they act kind of sad. They act like using this phrase is a sort of tragic concession, as if underneath is, “I’ve tried not to love you, because I’m aware that I’m not supposed to, and that for some reason my loving you is going to damage our livelihoods, but damn it, I can’t help it, I can’t fight it, and now that I’ve said it, I know that everything will be totally different.”

Akira’s love has always been different: simple—and in its simplicity lies the honesty of his feelings. It is the reason you fell for him, and why you won’t let him go.

His grief is an issue solved after a couple of days but you’re sure it isn’t because he’s done with Akechi. Rather necessity forces him to look forward instead of dwelling on what-ifs and while you don’t think it’s the healthiest way to cope, all you can do is be mindful and ready to catch him once he slips up. Whatever he’s dealing with as a phantom thief right now doesn’t slither into your conversations and you get the feeling that is something he’s grateful for—his mind unoccupied with whatever responsibilities he’s carrying as the leader, a place to put all that away and simpley be Akira. Finally, your time has come to be his safe haven, and you’re pretty adamant on keeping it that way.

Your day at college ends with submitting papers on time for a change. It’s been easier to focus on classes and lectures and the overall rise in performance and participation has you on the professors' good side. They’ve recommended places for internships and you promised to investigate them by the end of the week. Narukami showed how proud he was by inviting you to Tsukishima. When asked if he spilled your father’s name to Akira, he simply smiled like a priest holding a sermon. He too is looking forward to his internship, not in Tanaka’s Attorney Office but at a smaller company that is slowly building their way up as a trustworthy place for people seeking help.

Life is good. Life is even better when you can see Akira. Like right now. He is standing behind the counter, where else would he be, an apron hanging loosely around his shoulders as he gets ready for looking after the place until Boss comes back. The light behind the closing door’s window casts a bright shine on the interior of Leblanc until it moves across Akira and suddenly, he looks soft and vulnerable, a single flower inside a vase that’s swallowing it hole.

Before you notice, you softly breath his name. Akira looks up and gives you a little smile, both hands falling from behind his back after trying to knot the apron. He spreads his arms towards you. “Help me.”

You’re too weak to say No, especially when Akira is the Saint offering you benediction. Your arms reach around his slender form, tying the knot, and like the fool you are, you end up in his trap. Akira cages you in a tight embrace, humming into the crook of your neck with lips pulled up into a smile against your skin. It’s all fun and games until he starts mouthing at your neck and you push him away.

“Not in public,” you say, retreating back around the bar.

Akira sighs dramatically. “There goes one kink.”

You give him a blank stare, raising one eyebrow. “For now.”

He goes red and turns around, bringing both hands up to hide his face. If he thinks he can one-up you in that area, he’s clearly three years too young. Leaving him to his existential crisis, you move to greet the next resident. Morgana is splayed out on the counter, bathing in the slim ray of afternoon sunlight reflected off the door’s window.

“The most beautiful boy,” you sing and smush Morgana’s face between your hands. Morgana closes his eyes and purrs. It looks a little as if he’s smiling. Akira watches you for a moment, then leans over the counter, clearing his throat theatrically. You indulge him and smush his cheeks between your hands. “The most beeaauuuutiful boooy.”

He nods in agreement, visibly satisfied, so you return your attention back to Morgana while Akira prepares your coffee.

“I thought we could go somewhere on the day after the election,” you offer, pushing a thumb into Morgana’s beans and watch his sharp claws extend. “I even allow you to choose where we’ll go.”

“Hmm, I’ll be busy on the 18th,” he says, not looking up from pouring coffee into a cup. The steam fogs up his glasses when he slides it over to you. “Maybe after that?”

“Is something happening on that day?”

“Oh, you’ll see.” Even if you don’t see them, you could swear mischief dances in his eyes like it does in his voice. “It’s gonna be big.”

“Thenhowboutchrismas,” you murmur into the cup, taking a long sip just so you don’t have to answer when he asks you to repeat that again. The moment the liquid hits your tongue, a flavour so bitter explodes in your mouth that you spit all of it back into the cup.

You stare up at Akira in horror. “What is this?”

He blinks innocently. “I put a lot of love in it today?”

“Just—just stick to how Boss taught you. Please.”

“So picky.” But he takes the cup and hands you a glass of water. “Uhm, let’s do something on the 24th?” He massages the back of his neck, eyes fixed on the ceiling to avoid your eyes, red creeping up his cheeks. “We could get cake. Maybe hang out. Watch a movie.”

“You really are a charmer.” You’re pretty sure you don’t feel so warm simply because of Leblanc’s heater running. “I’d love to. And maybe we could have dinner with my brother before that?”

Akira perks up at that. He smiles like he just won the lottery.

Since Boss was about to return and take over, Akira offered for you to wait up in the attic until he could join you. Upstairs, you first take time to look at the shelf that’s seen some serious decoration since the last time you've looked at it. There’s a white plastic swan boat, an identical replica of a ramen bowl. On the top rack a big kumade grabs your attention, a blue bear decorating its top. You feel like you’ve seen it somewhere.

But of all the things that could have found their way here, you find your hair clip that Akira stole from you so many months ago it almost feels like a lifetime. If this shelf is meant as a collector of mementos, then you’ll play nice and leave it there.

On Akira’s pillow lies a PCP. You don’t remember the last time you’ve had time to play, so until he finishes his shift, you decide to see what he’s been playing. Time loses its meaning when you get into Takken 6, a fighting game you remember playing a little too much in high school. It’s dark outside when Akira finally comes up, apron still on.

“I hope you are not doing what I think you’re doing.” In the reflection of his glasses, you can’t see Akira’s eyes, but his voice doesn’t seem all too happy.

“I was bored,” you say, smashing the buttons like you want to punch your thumbs through the plastic. “Plus, your high score sucked. Don’t kids like you usually master video games?”

Akira answers with silence as he crosses the room and shrugs the apron off his shoulders according to the rustle of fabric you hear. It takes all your will power not to look and focus on beating up your opponent.

“Give it back.”

“Nuh uh, I’ve almost finished the top competitors.”

Footsteps approach and you wonder if this was a mistake. Akira pretty much assures it, when he looms over you, trapping you between his arms. More than anything, you’re kind of scared his glasses might fall off and hit you in the face as he leans over. “Are they really more interesting than me?” he asks, his voice gravelly low.

“Depends. Can you do a crouch shin kick?”

“Hmmm I can do this.” He moves to the side and attacks your neck, gaining easy access with your hair up in a messy bun. You giggle first until his teeth graze your jaw and his hand sneaks up to pull the hair tie off.

“I told you don’t wear it like that.” His voice is deep, throaty. You shudder when he lowers his body on top of yours and holds your head in place to leave a mean hickey.

You bite your lower lip, stifling a giggle. “Why?”

Akira raises his head begrudgingly to stare at you first, then at the mark, then dips down and gently nibbles on the skin where it curves into your shoulder.

“Oh,” you say, realisation hitting you. “You have a neck kink.”

“You like it,” Akira says, lips grazing your skin. “I like that you like it.”

You can’t argue with that. Focusing on the game becomes especially hard when one cool hand sneaks under your shirt, tracing your belly, your waist, up and up until his fingertips barely graze the fabric of your bra. Fine. Two can play this game.

He gets the first victory by bringing you to put the game aside, but the war isn’t over yet. While his face is hidden in the crook of your neck, you kiss his temple and run your hands over his body, touching all the places you’ve ached to touch: the back of his nape, the arch of his back, the wings of his shoulder blades.

Moaning against your neck first, he finally seals his lips with yours. His kissing skills have grown exponentially, even though his eagerness still holds the upper hand, leaving you breathless. His fingers dig into your skin, now warmed up from the contact, and you buck up against him. Just the layer of clothes separating you seems too much, and you start tugging at his shirt when his hips stutter and he drives them once sharp against your thigh. You whimper feeling his hardness against you, and in return he answers with a growl, his tongue pushing into your mouth.

Suddenly, he tears away from you and pushes himself up. You blink in a daze. “Huh?”

Akira is sitting on the edge of his bed, his wrist pressed against his lips. “I think … I think I gotta use the bathroom,” he mumbles, trying to hide the tent between his legs by pulling his shirt over it. You don’t dare to lower your gaze further because you seriously don’t know if you can hold yourself back if you see his arousal. His arousal for you.

“Okay,” you say instead, lowering your head back on his pillow and crossing your hands on your belly, ready to be carried to your grave. “I’ll just… stay here … stay here and think how big pharmacy is the root of our country’s problem with opiate addiction.”

Akira blinks, then considers you for a moment with eyes blown wide with desire, his pupils horribly dark. “Yeah.” He swallows. “Yeah, you do that.” He pats your knee and gets up, both hands tugging at his hair, mumbling to himself, “What the fuck, Arsène.”

You don’t even try to make sense out of that. Instead you adjust your own clothes, trying to look presentable if for whatever reason Boss decides to come upstairs. And then you immediately rise to sit up, because lying seems like a very bad idea right now. God, the things you want to do to him. With him.

A cold shower is what you need. Right now. Akira must be on the same wavelength as you. When he’s back upstairs, surprisingly fast, he excuses himself to the nearby bathhouse, leaving you in his room to meditate and find your inner peace instead of imagining how he jerks himself off downstairs in the little restroom while thinking of you.

Half an hour later, after you went back to kick ass in Takken 6, he returns, his hair still wet.

“You’ll get sick if you don’t dry it,” you remark, hitting pause when your character is just about to get knocked out. As answer, Akira throws his towel in your face and sits on the ground, leaning against his bed and waiting.

“You’re such a brat,” you say, not even thinking of not indulging him, and dry his hair.

“You love it,” he states the undeniable. While you’re occupied, he takes over playing the game and gives a little sound of distress upon facing the impending doom of losing.

“Wanna stay over?” he asks once you’re satisfied with the mess that his hair is. “I can sleep on the couch and I promise I'll behave.” His ears are pink when he says that, and you can’t prevent yourself from pinching them.

“Not that I don’t trust you, but I have to get up early tomorrow, so I’ll head home.” You plant a kiss on top of his head.

Akira gives a thoughtful “Hmmm,” you realise is actually a sulking one once he gets up and turns around. He sits next to you and scoots forward, slinging his legs around your waist and his hands around your shoulders, nuzzling your neck.

A soft laugh escapes you. “What are you doing?” His heartbeat is steady against your chest, his breath warm on your skin.

“I don’t want you to go yet,” he mumbles, pushing his lower lip forward in a pout.

You make a frustrated sound that doesn’t resemble human language and press your palms against your eyes. “Why are you saying stuff like that. You’re making me wanna kiss you so bad.”

Akira bolts up straight, his face going up in flames. “Then do it”, he says, trying to be so confident but his voice goes up at the end.

There’s no denying it will be a repeat of thirty minutes ago with him dry humping your thigh and who knows how far you’ll allow this to go. Luckily, you’re interrupted by Morgana who squeezes between your bodies, meowing loudly.

“You traitor,” Akira gasps.

You laugh and press a kiss on top of Morgana’s head. “I think he’s the only one being responsible right now.”

Akira gives a dramatic sigh. “Isn’t he always.” He’s still sulking, but that expression is quickly replaced by a sober seriousness when he says, “Make sure to watch TV tomorrow evening, okay?”

“Tomorrow?” You untangle his limbs from yours and get up, stretching. “Is there going to be something special?”

“Oh, something very special.” Akira’s smile is sharper than the edge of a blade. “You’ll see.”

“Okay, I promise.” You ruffle his hair. “And you promise me you stay safe and don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

Akira places a hand over his heart. “I solemnly swear I am behaving like a modest citizen.”

You look at him like you don’t believe him. Morgana looks at him like he doesn’t believe him. But it’s hard to call him out on his nonsense when he looks so adorable with his messy hair and pouty pink lips.

“I’ll give you a call tomorrow or the day after,” you say, packing up your stuff. “Then we can talk more about our Christmas plans.” It’s going to be the first time spending the Holiday with someone so dear to you, and you can’t wait for it.

When you’re ready to leave, Akira snatches your hand and pecks your lips. “I’ll miss you.”

“Clingy.” You pinch his cheek. “I like it.”

“Once my last job as a phantom thief is done, I’ll cling even more.”

“I can’t wait for it.” You tiptoe to kiss him. Akira holds on a little longer than necessary for a simple ‘see-you-later’-goodbye but you don’t complain. He murmurs your name into your ear like it’s a prayer and adds a heartfelt “I love you” just for good measure. There is no doubt in your mind that Akira Kurusu will be the death of you.

On your way to your dormitory, you lose count on how often you turn around to wave him goodbye while he stands in front of Leblanc, watching your every step just to prolong going back inside where you are not.

I am thou, thou art I… Thou hast turned a vow into a blood oath.

Thy bond shall become the wings of rebellion and break the yoke of thy heart.

Thou hast awakened to the ultimate secret of the Saint, granting thee infinite power …

[You can now fuse Eve, the most powerful Persona of the Saint arcana.]

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#philliamwrites #ao3 #fanfiction #reader insert #persona 5 #p5 #akira kurusu #ren amamiya #persona 5 joker #akira kurusu x reader #ren amamiya x reader #persona 5 joker x reader

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