#it’s been half a year and I’m ✨still✨ recovering from his death | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sirthisisa-wendys · 1 year

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(: I’m back for another Angst request :)

If possible could d Bonten Rindou who finally was able to escape Bonten’s grasp and try to lead a normal life, say he moves to the USA and hides himself very well in a small town, there he has a wife, two children (boys), and lived a very average life that he is very content with- he has some mediocre job working in some factory. When everything is going to well for him, he comes home one day to an empty house and only a note on the table with the Bonten logo on it.

(: please make this one ✨hurt ✨ (I have no doubt that you will ) :)

THIS IS SO BONTEN OMG THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS.

Life is Lonely Lovely: A Rindou Haitani Short

wc: 1.4k

tw: angst

masterlist

What a difference five years and a box of black hair dye can make.

It obviously was more complicated, but Rindou likes to think it wasn't. In his dreams, he remembers the escape all too well, however. The running, the hiding, the narrowly missed flight that had him in shambles at the airport, trying to scrape together just enough cash to make the last flight out.

But Rindou doesn't think much about the past when he wakes up. It's all behind him now.

In front of him is the woman he loves, the kids he adores, and the life he's come to cherish.

"Good morning, my love," Rindou whispers, leaning over to place a short kiss on your exposed shoulder. You hum and reach for him, eyes still closed as you wrap your hand around his wrist.

"Stay for a little while longer," you murmur drowsily, your perfect hand caressing his skin in an effort to make him relent.

"I can't," Rindou breathes, lacing his fingers through yours. But he does, if only for a brief spell. He could be late occasionally, right? The luxury of being late greets him as he slips out of bed twenty minutes later, smelling like you. Your scent is so calming, so alluring...

A memory pops up like a red flag in his mind: the girls back in Roppongi smelled like sharp corners, sleepless nights, and wrong turns. Ran liked the smell and always complimented the girls who doused themselves in musk and amber... but you were nothing like them.

You smell like roundabouts, lazy days, like the street downwind of a flower shop. You touch his cheek and don't expect anything out of him. Your affection isn't a business deal; it's just... love. Rindou mourns while he takes a short shower. Washing you off of him is almost a sin. But he knows if he can come back home to you, it'll be okay.

"Dad, can you make me some toast?"

Rindou happily places the bread inside the toaster and presses the button. The two boys walk around the kitchen, half-awake, as Rindou spoons eggs and places bacon on their plates. They both have blonde hair - like Rindou did at one time - but you had chalked it up to a recessive gene on your side of the family.

There are days when Rin wants to tell you where he came from, what he came from, and who he ran from, but he keeps those things close to his chest. To tell you would be akin to signing your death warrant, which would be a mistake he would never recover from.

"Babe," you mumble, wrapping your arms around his frame. "Bacon smells good."

"Made it just how you like it." Rindou takes pride in placing dutiful kisses on his children's foreheads. He takes even more pride in how he kisses you before he heads out the door, toast in his right hand and lunch in his left.

The average car purrs to life in the garage, and he backs out, eyes totally focused on the children hanging onto your robe as you wave him goodbye.

"I love you! Have a good day!"

Have a good day!

The words ring in his ears when he parks in the factory parking lot and joins his fellow workers on the paper mill floor, each churning out their own piece of the puzzle. Rindou knows about teamwork - he's been part of a team his entire life. Except in this warehouse, hardly anyone dies. Sure, there are injuries here and there, but none that leave families without their kin.

No punishments exist that end in death. The worst that's ever received is a write-up or a meeting with HR. Not the active end of a gun. And even though lunch is a simple sandwich with chips and a soda, Rindou is happy.

Have a good day!

Whistling is the name of the game after work. He's sure he'll see you sprawled across the floor with the kids once he arrives home, dinner already started, and some snacks left out as you play with your sons. Rindou knows the drill: he'll come inside, call out for his boys (who are already mid-run), see you coming around the corner, and kiss every single cheek in sight. It's a simple life with simple joys. He'll eat dinner, play games, watch TV with the boys, and then send them to sleep with a story.

Storytime is his favorite. Every night they ask for a new tale. And every night, he makes up something they'll enjoy, whether it's dragons who love tacos or mice who love to dance the conga. He can't remember his father doing anything of the sort with Ran and him when they were younger. But that's okay. It's his turn to make it right.

Rindou drops his keys at the garage door, and as he stoops, he grunts softly. Like a dad, he thinks to himself, chuckling. When the key slips into the lock, however, he instantly feels the door give way.

Later, Rindou will wish he had paid more attention to that minute detail.

Instead, the door creaks open, and for a moment, he imagines one of his sons - perhaps the eldest - on the other side, face bright and excited to his father. But there's no noise. No one comes to greet him. The silence is deafening.

"Babe," he calls out, praying you're all just cuddled up in the bedroom, taking a nap. But the further his feet carry him, the more his hope slips away. "Babe?"

He's never been this frightened before. His shoes slap against the stairs, echoing like bombs crashing to the earth. "Babe!" His voice has never gotten this high-pitched. For a brief moment, he considers that this is all a game and that he needs to play it cool and play hide-and-seek. That's it. But the more he seeks, the less that's hidden.

In the master bedroom, signs of a struggle materialize almost instantly. The bedsheet is ruffled, the pictures on the wall are crooked, and there's one distinct piece of furniture missing.

That, too, was overlooked before the investigation began.

"The poster bed had four posts," Rindou repeats to the detective, rattling his cuffs angrily. "I know that! I bought the fucking bed!"

His shouts do him no good.

"Sir, you're going to have to come in for--"

"I didn't do anything!" Rindou screams, tears coursing down his face. "I swear to god, I would never hurt my boys or my wife!"

"You lied about your identity--" The female detective shoves papers his way and Rindou looks at his old passport photo before swiping it off the table in anguish. "You know how this looks, don't you, Mr. Haitani?"

"I didn't do anything!"

Over and over and over, Rindou tells his tale to those who matter. "I went to work after cooking breakfast," he mutters, teeth chattering as he looks down at his cuffed hands. "I went to work. People saw me there."

"We have evidence that you didn't show up for work," his lawyer sighs. "Rindou, just tell us the truth. There's no way your fingerprints could have been on everything in that crime scene if you didn't --"

"If I tell you who did it, they'll kill me," he whimpers. "I just want my family back. I just want my old life back. Please... help me."

"You can have everything back if you just tell us where you took them."

"I..." Flashes of the crumpled-up note come back to Rindou, and he flinches. "I didn't... I would never..."

"If you found something, we need to know."

Rindou shakes his head, seeing his blonde roots returning to life in the reflection of the metal table. "I can't."

Rindou whispers those words to himself when he lies on his bunk in the cell at night. His cellmate won't even look at or touch him. He wouldn't dare touch the man who made his entire family disappear.

"Have a good day," Rindou mumbles dumbly at the man that slips off the top bunk. "Have a good day," he mutters to the lunch ladies. "Have a good day," he tells the man in the commissary, his arms full of things he purchased with the money that never seems to run out on his books. "Have a good day," he whimpers, playing with the Hot Wheels car, watching the item zip across his cell.

"Have a good day," he breathes as the lights shut off in the prison, damning him to another night in hell.

#rindou haitani x reader #rindou haitani #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #guys I'm actually so sorry that this is so sad #I am crying right now #My eyes are wet and my allergies are acting up again #pass the tissues #I am so serious *PASS THE TISSUES*

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