“You love me, right?” 

He watches your movements stop. 

Ran doesn’t do this. The eldest Haitani brother always shows up self-assured; every bone in his body reminding him that he’s right and if he’s not right, then he’ll simply make it right. And yet, he can’t help but swallow past the dryness in his throat as he asks you the question. He’s Ran Haitani. The same Ran who’s bleary eyed and still in his suit, sitting with his elbows on your shared kitchen countertop on a Tuesday night, but for some reason, he can’t seem to meet your eyes. 

This is what he’s always done – shown up late and let you care for him, breathing life back into his tired bones. It’s a cycle that never seemed to end, even now that you were both adults. He cares for you too, obviously. He’d burn the world down for you or run away with you and never look back, if you asked him to. His fingers twitch. Maybe not the second option. But you were something else to care for now, another worry added to his list that used to only consist of Rindou Haitani. 

You turn from your chopping board to face him warily. Maybe he’s asking this to tease you. Maybe he’s worried. Ran’s shaking his foot, head pointedly turned away to face the windows instead of you. 

Do you know that if you deny him or brush him aside, he’ll fall apart? Do you know that he’s absolutely ready to spend the rest of his life coming home to you? 

“Yeah, I love you.” You’ve neglected your dinner preparations now, choosing to lean over the countertop to look at him. The water simmers steadily behind you in the pot. “What’s this all about then?” 

There’s a smile in your voice, he knows it before he even meets your gaze. He turns his head and there it is: your lips curving upwards in amusement. It’s your eyes that betray a flicker of worry. Ran sighs in relief. 

“It’s nothing.” He says quickly, pushing off from his seat and wandering around your form to check on the now boiling water. To his dismay, you follow him, peeking over his shoulder as well. You’re close enough that he can feel your warmth just behind him. Maybe he should kiss you. 

“Are you jealous again?” Your question leaves him stunned, a tilt of your head lets him know you're teasing him.

“No.” A pause. “Should I be?” 

You do it first, kissing his cheek and nudging him out of the way with your hip. You’re braver than him. It’s something he realised a long time ago, but something that keeps appearing in his thoughts everyday. He wants to be brave too. But what he really does is instead is stand next to you in a frozen position, waiting for your answer. 

“Never.” There’s that smile on your face again, a cheeky one, even as you’re looking up at him to make sure he’s really listening. “I’d choose you every day.” 

“Good.” Although his heart stutters at the comment, he’s glad that his words stay calm. “There’s no one better than me.” 

Ran acts on his thoughts this time, wrapping his arms around your middle loosely. Another pause, and then he’s resting his chin on top of your head, a satisfied huff leaving him as you don’t push him away. 

This type of lifestyle has always been a pipe dream really. But it’s real now, and you’re still here after all these years so he must be doing something right. His hand reaches into his pocket, running his fingers over a small, velvet box. 

One day, much later, he’ll be brave and maybe even surprise you. But for now, he’s contented with coming home to you. 

I don't think words can describe how thankful I am to come across your blog. Your tr takes crack me up so much I read the manga and at first the premise was ridiculous for me to read but got invested with the emotional aspect of the series. And for that you have my gratitude.

Thank you so much, this was so sweet, I’m so sorry for not answering this for so long. I wrote some of my reply, but then it deleted so I forgot about it for a while. (But now I’m writing this in my notes app, so checkmate Tumblr)

Anyways, yeah the premise of Tokrev is so funny to me. When I first heard about it last spring when the anime was airing, I wasn’t really that interested. But that’s because I only heard that it was about teenagers in gangs. I knew some people died, I really only saw pictures of Baji, Mitsuya, Draken, and maybe Mikey. I kind of remember some manga panels of some of the girls on TikTok. I genuinely could not tell what it was about but I didn’t care. I just kept seeing it on TikTok and Twitter though, because that was when it first got really popular I was in the jjk fandom. It was kind of on my radar, but I didn’t really care.

And then I heard it was about time travel and I was immediately sold. But also very shocked. It made all the timeskip comments make so much more sense though. Up until then I just thought there was a huge timeskip that happened like half way through the manga, because it would have to be pretty early if it already happened and the story wasn’t ending soon. So I thought they all just continued to do gang activity and it got REALLY serious and that’s what the plot was about. Anyways a TikTok showed up on my fyp that was like “I really like the time travel in Tokyo Revengers because…” and I seas like “Hold up, WHAT? Tokyo Revengers is about TIME TRAVEL????? If I had known that I would have watched it sooner.” Teenage gang shenanigans and time travel is such an interesting yet ridiculous premise, I was intrigued. I LOVE time travel, but I HATE sci-fi, so yeah, this was exactly something I would enjoy.

I thought it was kind of cringe at first, but I was hooked. Most likely because my last interest was fading, and it was the most decent thing I was watching during that period so my brain clung onto it. I do not control what my brain latches onto. I started watching it on my phone in a hotel room. (I had to go somewhere with my family that week, idk) Honestly my impression of it at first feels so different from my impression of it now. I remember “Takemichi is the straightest man in this series” phase. Also I shipped Draken and Mikey? I don’t anymore, nothing against it I just don’t see it anymore and their platonic relationship means a lot to me. I kind of start watching it to find ships to read fanfic about, because I wasn’t expecting to actually get into it. I do that sometimes, and then move on from it in a week. But I actually got really into it, which completely defeated the point of that first intention, because the more I like a series, the pickier I get with fanfiction. Like sometimes I read Haikyuu fanfics because I don’t really care about but I did watch like 2 and a half seasons of it, so I know the characters. But I don’t know them well enough to care if they’re ooc. Also I can only read aus if I don’t care about the series or the characters. But if I like something, I cannot read aus. Just can’t do it. (Unless it’s like canon divergence but still set in the canon universe, then that’s fine, but I’m not reading a coffee shop au for something I like)

Yeah, so I didn’t really take it seriously at first, but then there were some really intense emotional aspects of it that I really liked and I started taking it a bit more seriously. Like yeah it’s cringe, but that almost adds a layer of realism. Because sometimes in real life, traumatic events aren’t something you can make out to be cool or something that had a concrete reason to happen, they’re embarrassing and random and they still hurt all the same. Like Shinichiro’s death, it wasn’t some planned out grand thing, it was a horrible split second decision that became such an important aspect of the plot. Tragic Irony and all that. Kisaki’s reason for killing Hina was also something I liked, despite other people thinking it’s stupid. Sometimes people don’t have a good reason for the horrible things they do to you, they’re just selfish. I honestly love that it wasn’t this grand thing bigger than him or Takemichi. Kisaki was just an insecure jealous person. And it works because while it might not make sense to anyone else, it makes sense to Kisaki.

I also enjoy that every character is allowed to express emotional vulnerability. It isn’t like most shounen where there are certain characters that are just above that. They’re all people who can be hurt emotionally, even if they’re ridiculous characters. Even Taiju and South had some sense of vulnerability. There’s actually a pretty normal and healthy amount of crying in the series, which is something you don’t always see. That’s probably why it garnered such a large female fanbase, because a more stereotypically masculine audience tends to criticize that aspect of the series. Everyone is allowed to show emotion, even if that character is trying not to, we the audience are still allowed to know that they are in fact feeling emotion. And I really like that.

#personal

There’s always been a very strange stigma attached to morning people or people who enjoy getting up before anyone else.  Lately morning has been a very clear divider between me and parts of society that exacerbate personal woe.  The idea that I wake up super happy and joyful about looking puffy and famished is an American myth that died hard with international travel.  Jumping back and forth twice a year between Asia and America by myself was jarring enough to my body clock.  Some of the most peaceful times were spent jet lagged in my kitchen after a trip sorting through my things.  The permanence of home was a safety net where I could reflect about all these adventures.  Mostly I kept them to myself.  Nobody is ever awake at five in the morning to tell.  Which is why for almost two years I’ve spent writing and reflecting here after a plausibly good night’s sleep alone.  Every weekend.  You could set your watch to it.  My body is already waking up an hour earlier.  I take advantage of the daylight in more ways I’m conscious of.  But the truth is there are a lot of people who wouldn’t do the same.  Year after year.  Waking up this early and trying to seize something unexplainable.  Where does all this inspiration and motivation actually come from?  There’s people of course that inspire me to challenge myself.  I find I’m only as successful as I can rely on myself and my own clear headed decisions.  Lately people keep telling me they envy my ability to stay away from certain aspects of life in doses.  I’ve seen a lot of my failures in twenty twenty.  Hindsight has always been harsh when you apply the criticism solely on yourself.  But I find when I take the blame for something I learn to understand the causes.  What stands in the way of most of what I’ve tried to do these days is people.  And more often than not, a lot of those people never wake up as early.  The functional truth of my life lately is that people ask way too many questions.  Those questions are filled with expectations that don’t respect my privacy or what I chose to keep intimate.  Secrets are kept for many reasons.  You have governments nervous about encryption.  You have contracts nervous about your image.  You have people that care deeply enough to dance around the details.  And the details about life are painfully real to me as I face them day after day with unrelenting confidence.  I don’t say much.  I go about my business and get paid while doing it.  I run to the Nike store and get there at ten when they open.  The manager asked me if what I used the apps for.  I told him running and yoga.  He commented that was a good look.  So was waking up early to see if they had the new gyakusou collection.

Stigma gets attached to anything and everything in America.  We’re a culture of freedom.  Everybody has to have an opinion about everything and everyone.  We identify with what we project.  And we imprint our worst fears onto people without ever letting them defend themselves.  Every time I apply moisturizer to my face I’m flashing back to American Psycho.  I used to be more self conscious of my lifestyle.  That is until I started to look at the sustainability of it. Rhythm and pacing is crucial to most of what I’ve been able to do.  Stigma is what gets in the way most every time.  The very word is rooted in Christian culture which refers to the stigmata on Jesus’s body left after the crucifixition.  A more secular definition would be disgrace associated with a particular quality.  We judge everything before it happens.  We squeeze out every possibility until we can be sure.  And in the process we apply unneeded and unwarranted pressure on every day people trying to live their lives.  We do this in varying degrees of persecutation.  And we always find a way to retaliate.  To get even.  To exact revenge.  To be consumed with anger and fury instead of saving your energy for something better.  I’ve spent years fighting for an environment that erases the unrealistic stigmas in America.  That to me was just the default definiton of growing up punk.  The unconscious stigma attached to my life has always been that I’ve been good enough to be ignored.  So there has always been a sort of bitterness with knowing just how disingenuous people are.  I got into street wear at a very genuine time of my life.  My entire world had come crashing down from the end of a ten year relationship.  I spent a decade in a monogamous partnership that crashed and burned with infidelity. It hurt a lot to be betrayed.  And my life changed forever.  I moved on.  It took years.  In 2011 a DJ friend introduced me to Popeye magazine and Japanese street wear.  He had travelled often to Tokyo to run the marathon and had just turned me onto Undercover and Jun Takahashi.  I had been running in makeshift sweatpants and used nike gear all over the neighborhood.  The police would often follow me on occasion wondering if I was lost or homeless.  Years later I would run in the park draped in Gyakusou and they’d still follow.  This time they must have thought I worked for the CIA.  Nowadays everybody knows at least one thing.  I’m one of those fucking morning people.

A certain amount of confidence comes from proving year after year no one would do what you do to seize the day.  A certain amount of loneliness is to be expected to.  Training these days is never about what I can prove to someone else.  I’ve proven enough.  Validation is an echo chamber at times.  Challenging yourself and comparing your growth is very real.  Especially if you track it year after year.  Two years ago I was just starting to travel to New York.  Two years later it seems like I’m planning the trip back on the way out.  People see what I’m doing.  People still don’t ask me any questions.  They expect me to project my moves.  Which to a certain extent I feel there’s a right and wrong way to drop hints about anything.  Just like communication evolves to support encryption.  There’s a real need for more privacy and intimacy there.  Because at a certain point people’s opinions about what you do and your image can be particularly invasive.  I should know because I’ve literally lifted myself out of the negative sludge of public opinion in this city year after year.  The joke is you have to put on some kind of mask.  I find myself more focused mentally on how I present myself especially with yoga these days.  Just taking the time to breath correctly and correct my posture gives me a lot more options on how I present myself.  Most of my problems over the years was people getting the wrong idea.  And running away with it.  People hallucinate your celebrity without ever including you.  It’s bizarre.  Years later you find people are hijacking your very lifelines of communication to talk over your silent semiotics.   You develop new ones.  Or you step right over them and assert yourself.  American convenience dictates that if you aren’t nice and accommodating about everything you are a communist leftist with intent on destabilizing the government.  One morning at a time.  Last time I checked I have done absolutely nothing for this country other than tone up my muscles and my pores.  Everybody seems to have an opinion about that these days.  I write the cliff notes on tumblr every weekend.  The only two people who I can be sure really understand it is me and the person I care about the most.  There’s always this stigma attached to being vague.  Like you and the rest of the world deserve to know what keeps me alive and inspired.  Inspirational women in short.  One in particular is my focus every morning when I wake up and figure out how to make things right.  I did call my mom last night.  There’s no stigma to staying home and doing that on a Friday night.  There shouldn’t be a stigma attached to me writing about how much I love you.  I said it on the internet.  Just imagine me saying it in real life.  No stigmas attached.  <3 Tim