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blueparadis · 1 year

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❝ LOVE ME WRONG ❞ + HIROMI HIGURUMA !

[ content & themes ] :: submission of my entry for what’s done in the dark by @semisgroupie + ultraviolence collab under ❝ brooklyn baby ❞ by @vilsoo; f!reader ( s!her pronouns / third person pov ) , OCs, college & uni au + corruption & crime au { mention of infidelity ( not by Hiromi or the reader, but its there), mention of accidents, hospitals, death, attempted murder }, age-gap, family drama, absent parenting, angst & feels, insecurity, jealousy, unrequited feelings, one-sided pinning, sexual tension, co-dependency, $mut descriptions, poetic usage of italics.

[ synopsis ] :: After the deprivation of her father's shadow, y/n’s world slowly started to fall apart. Higuruma tried to set things right but feelings turned against him, depravity was the reward in this web of emotions. word count — 4.5kish

[ notes ] :: redirect to blog navigation; also available in my ao3. Beta-read by my beloved bae, fae ( @emissaire) , the m.list of love me knot will be released later. this is just a sorta kinda prequel/backstory.

PROLOGUE [ part one ] of ❝LOVE ME KNOT.❞

Four years. Four years of confinement — being deprived of a luxurious lifestyle, healthy foods, wife's touch, and daughter’s love. Kento Namami’s body would rot in the dark corner of a lonely cell all these years, teaching him a lesson for his crimes or so the authorities have claimed. Kento Nanami was not the first one and certainly would not be the last one to be arrested and punished for tax evasion. And, no jail is strong enough to hold him, in other words, no human is strong enough to deny the luxury of life. And if that were to be provided more than the necessary amount, then the sky is just the starting point, not a limit anymore.

“Still no luck?” Nanami speaks in a low tone. It almost sounds like a low growl of a wounded creature, a wounded creature that is asking to be pitied yet ready to pounce if it were to smell any sort of mercy around itself. Higuruma, one of his dearest friends who had the power to pull strings from behind the curtains and wreak havoc on the front stage, was Kento’s only hope at this point. Although he has retired from his duties, he was not willing to risk his life and the lives attached to him anymore.

“I’m afraid it’s the best I can do. They are not going to decrease the time of imprisonment.” Higuruma spoke with an inert expression on his face standing at an arm’s length from the bars with two cell bodyguards by his side.

“I see.” Nanami murmured so low, so pale that Higuruma had to glance at the bodyguards; they disappeared at his gesture while Nanami’s cheeks stretched wickedly exclaiming, “I knew you wouldn’t come empty-handed, pal.” A scowl seemed to appear when Hiromi looked away from his decaying friend.

“You’re right,” he rolled his tongue inside his mouth, “I came with a surprise.” As soon as his voice vanished, Nanami's face was aghast as Y/N Nanami, his one and only beautiful young daughter, stepped into the light.

“Papa”, she asked with fear choking her throat, and hopelessness in her body, “Are you mad at me?. . ‘cause I came here?”

Nanami was on his knees, fingers still curled around the bars as a support to provide for himself, “No. No. my darling, why would I be? I’m not mad, not at all ” His hands extended in order to run his hands over his daughter's head but recoiled quickly. What was he thinking? He shouldn’t. He mustn’t. He should not cast his shadow on his daughter. There is still hope for her, hope to become not like her father.

“Pa-pah” She started again, “is what they’re saying true?. . .that you stole money from many?”Nanami could see how afraid she was, how her lips were shaking, eyes full of water to their brim. And, even if he told the truth it wouldn’t matter and lies seemed safer than the truth, at least for now.

“Don’t believe them. They’re saying whatever they can to keep me here. . . You don't have to worry about them, baby,” his tone was flat, emotionless. If she were to hear her father properly, from the bottom of her heart, then maybe she could pin only one emotion: rage. And it touched her too as she said, “But papa, Mama said it's true. It's all true,” with a firm tone.

Nanami could see how polished she was overnight. If he was a wounded creature, she was an eagle that is out for its first hunt

“So, it's true then!” Her face contorts. “Okay. I understand. Don’t worry, I'll be fine. I’ll wait till you come back.” Her footsteps were so quick, like the flap of wings of a bird who does not intend to return home, not anymore.

“Unlike mama”, she uttered under her breath as she was escorted by the guards.

“Why the fuck did you bring her here, Hiro?”Nanami snapped. His hands tried to reach out to grab his friend by the collar but it was all in vain.

“Uh-Uh. Careful. You’re already at the other side of these bars. Do you wish to stay longer?” Hiromi was the forgemaster of monsters. Back in his day, he was the best public defense lawyer. Even through the layers of lies, he could pluck out the facts needed to protect the weak, and fight for the wrongly accused. But with power comes sacrifice and with sacrifice comes glory. Though it was a mirage for most people, Higuruma had tasted it easily at the tip of his tongue. His moral compass rarely turned against him, and this is one of those times. Nanami was just a case of ducks and drakes.

His face relaxed, voice softened. “She is your daughter. . .what did you expect? She is more stubborn than you are, Ken. You should know that of all people.”

A strong exhale echoed amongst the dark corridor as he finished, “ I need to sit with the judge. Many got away, you’ll too”, he gives Nanami’s crooked shoulder a squeeze exclaiming with a pinch of hope, carefully tucking in a little bit of empathy to keep the prisoner on track, “just stay away from trouble. I’ll get you out of here soon, pal”

“Is the coffee here not to your liking?” Higuruma asked the young girl who was sitting at the opposite chair of him, as he added three sugar cubes in his coffee. She takes a sip without sparing a glance at the man opposite to her, her mind is busy searching those reveries that she lived, as a child. Her father, her mother ,and her — happy, smiling and so in love. Her eyes ached as she tried to hold back the tears for god knows how many times! How do people fall out of love again?

“You know, even if I meet with the judge. . . there are lesser chances of him getting out. All the evidence just points towards him, even if he hasn't committed what he is getting punished for. His crimes are —” The retired lawyer was silenced by the splash of hot coffee on his exquisite outfit, barely touching the collar cuffs.

“Tsk, I was aiming for the face,” she murmured under her breath, strolling towards the exit.

“Wait…”, Higuruma calls out but it did not surpass the tinkling of the bell, it failed to reach her too. The bodyguard who watched all this mess unfold tried to follow y/n but Hiromi raised one of his hands, the other being preoccupied with cleaning his expensive suit and dress shirt. “Fuck, she's gonna be in real trouble for that attitude.” He cleans a little portion while the bodyguard steps back. “Fuck you, Kento.” His voice fills the corner of the silent atmosphere of this lonely cafeteria before he dashes out of there.

Y/N tried calling her mom but seemed to have no luck. She dialed her chauffeur’s number, but no luck either. It went out of reach. She raked her fingers through her messy, unruly hair and crouched down, taking long deep breaths, trying to force back those tears at the back of her skull. She was aware of why her mother was not able to take her call. “Sure babe. Love you too.” flashes every time whenever she closes her eyes and thinks of her mother, trying to unsee it, erase it, forget it.

"There you are, girl.” Higuruma’s mellowed voice touches her banging silence, light yet enough to make her be up on her feet. He follows her as she crosses the road, compact steps trying to match her reckless ones.

“This really looks embarrassing, you know, suspicious even.” For a moment Y/N stopped and turned around to have a quick scan of him. Careless as ever, she blinked and turned on her heels quickly walking towards the bus stop. Higuruma’s nerve has already started to tick off, still, for the sake of his friend, he tries to humble himself in front of her.

“Huh . . . y/n, if you are going to the bus stop.” both of them halt at once. A soft chuckle escaped his lips, “It's the other way.” She bows her head trying to mentally calculate the roads and well, he is correct but she is not wrong either. Her route is a really long one whereas the other would be quick and short.

“You do realize that you can't go home alone, especially when I specifically accompanied you from your home, right?” It is astonishing how he is not running out of breath, perhaps the morning jogging paid him off well.

With reluctance hanging heavy in her heart, she was now sitting in the passenger seat facing the windows even though there was nothing to watch. Higuruma did not try to stir anything with her, and no more conversations. Part of him feels guilty for being unable to look after her like he is expected to do, part of him wants to hug her and say everything is ‘going to be alright, it's going to be okay’, part of him thinks it is wrong to harbor such thoughts, thoughts that involves taking care of her, doing right by her, providing everything she deserves, everything she desires. . .How do people fall out of love again?

“We're here.” The man remarks, parking near the turn of her house. No, he can not go up to her house. She would not like it, she would hate him for that, for being kind when he has every reason to be angry at her.

“Thank you for the ride, Hiro”, she blurts out of her habit before getting out of the car and shutting the car door cautiously. Higuruma jerks in his seat, letting out a hefty exhaustive huff. “Ah! Geez. . . glad that I don't have kids.”

Hiro. Hiromi. Hiro . . . a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. There is a nice ring to that, isn't it? He has spent half of his life with her; her being the light of his life. Many a time he visited Kento, sometimes for work and sometimes just for the company, y/n would always greet him, and ask about his wife, and children. He would ask how life is treating her. Is the studying going well? In Kento's absence, she would always seek Hiromi— for anything, even to share a smoke and tell him that her life is falling apart and that mama and papa are ignoring her shrill cries for help.

It is a great tragedy to be there for someone at their lowest point of vulnerability and not to fall for them. It is even scary when realization turns up.

His phone lights up, shifting his attention from her fading figure toward the freshly received message. In his life, he has never taken such a rapid U-turn. Well, this is the third time as of now. The first was when he received the news of an accident, his five - year old son. The worst part was that it was a spot death. If it were a result of one of his deviations in his career, he knew exactly where and how to take it out and who to punish but he was not that lucky.

“Fuck, you feel so good Kiyo. . . Oh—oH.”

“Oh yeah ?”

“Um-hm” loud moans echoed throughout the drawing room as y/n reached the top floor of the building. She gulps, unable to, actually trying to disconnect the dots that have led to a deadly dirty secret. The lounge was silent, and the whole apartment was. All the servants were on holiday. She exhaled deeply, knuckles tightening as she tried to take a few steps towards her room but the moans of her mother touched her most delicate parts and mutilated her.

With a huge bang, she opened the door. It was bolted but now the lock was broken. Mrs. Nanami Kento quickly wrapped the bed sheet around her naked sweaty body while the man headed toward the restroom. Y/N fixated her eyes on the floor so as not to get an imprint of such . . . filthy . . . behavior.

The older woman started to speak, “baby, this is not what it looks like . . . ”

“Are you serious right now? Are you even hearing yourself?. . .” A sob left her body, “I —I really wanted to deny this, I really wanted to. . ,

“baby, listen to me. . .” She approached towards her daughter, extending her hand to pat her.

“Stay the fuck away from me.” y/n swerved the touch of the mother for the first time in her life. She exhaled, closing her eyes and composing herself to speak further, “How old do you think I am? I'm not a child anymore. I know what love you too means. . .and I know when people say that . . .” Her voice was barely audible. It was a trail of pained gasps, full of sobs and ragged breathing like a creature begging for death yet declined by it.

“. . .Fuck you. I can't do this anymore.”

—

“y/n. Meet me in the staff room after the class.”, Satoru muttered before leaving. There was a rustle of voices among the students. It had been like that since the beginning of the class. Satoru ignored it blatantly, and since it didn't bother the top students in his class he couldn't care less about it. Y/N was one of the tops in her grade, thanks to her dad for supporting her in every way she asked for.

“How are you?”, Satoru asks, barely sitting on the desk with his long arms clasped together in his chest.

A smile breaks on her face like a plague.

Everyone had a crush on him, but not y/n, and Satoru remained to steer clear of that kind of girls. Why wouldn't he? Suguru had to shift institutes because he was too caught up to be out of the web. It still haunts him.

“Okay. Got it. Bad question,” the professor quipped, pulling the drawer to take the post-graduation brochures of several universities. “I’ll go straight to the point”

“So, many universities approached us like last year and these are the ones we prefer the most. Now, as you know, a few hand-picked students will get a recommendation letter from me. I'd like you to take a look at these. ”

Satoru handed out some brochures. Y/N could not believe what she was hearing. At such a time of emotional turbulence, she has to prepare for higher studies exams — modeling and fashion designing. One thing about Kento was he fought for her daughter against his wife just so she could study what she wanted, what she is good at. How could she let this golden opportunity slip off?

Satoru clicked his tongue. “Hey y/n. You're a good student. Try to stay in line and you'll be able to crack this exam. It'll be good for you, especially since you already are a model for some cosmetic brands, and with your background, it'll be easier.”

With her background? Or her father's or her mother's? Plus, Why should everyone go out of line yet not her?

“Is that clear, y/n?”

“Yes Sir”, she exclaimed with a firm voice while receiving the brochure of the post-graduation programs. “ Thank you,” she said before leaving the staff room.

With her bag in hand, y/n was near the far end of the campus. Generally, she would go straight home but lately, it feels like there is no home. She roamed around the campus and decided to clear her head, and focus on her goals. Too many things happened last night. Her eyes met a pair of almond eyes as she hurried to get a cold drink. There must be some inter-school match, otherwise, students from other colleges were not allowed, especially when they certainly don't have the manners to behave.

As soon as she turned around, she jolted out of shock.

“Can I get your autograph please?,” the blonde’s voice mellowed as he stood shirtless in front of her with lipstick in his hand holding in front of y/n’s face. “I’m a big fan,” he amended.

“Oye. Miya. Quit it,” a boy, probably of his age interjected, while the other twin remained seated with a neutral expression.

Miya? She blinks and the name along with that message flashes in her mind. Kiyoshi Miya: “love you too ” Y/N tried to take the other route but was blocked again by the blonde boy. What bad timing! She was at her limit.

“Hope your mom's bed is still warm now that mine's done by your daddy.” She chimed with the most girlish voice she could ever produce, taunting the manhood of the guy who blocked her path. The flashy grin of the blonde disappeared. The boy with snake eyes immediately tackled his friend out of the way otherwise it would have been another headline of tomorrow’s headline and stories for gossip in high societies.

“You fucking bitch. . .” the other twin uttered advancing towards y/n but was immediately shut down by her retaliation.

“What? Are you a fan too?” She turned around to face him head-on. “Then, you didn't do your homework properly.” She added, locking eyes with the blonde who had no intention to fight. It was going to be revenge, a slow poison. Many times, she was asked for autographs but this one took the prize. Ah! Geez. Perhaps, it was because of a ‘silly bet’. By the time she reached the main exit of the campus, the drink tasted so bad. It was not cold anymore, ecstasy touched her bones. She could see what fate had in its store for her, a life of fame and flimsy love. The most frustrating part was she had no one to blame, not even her mother when Hiromi is having such a devil’s luck bailing her father out. Fuck

For the first time in her life, y/n felt that she did something for herself and not for others. Sure, modeling and fashion was her choice but it was mostly influenced by her mother, her beautiful sexy mother. As a child, she would always try to imitate her, talk like her, walk like her, follow her footsteps, and abide by whatever she asked for. It was a happy time but then one day, Crest-fallen.

Either women can be very jealous creatures or they could not give a single flying fuck about whatever is happening in their surroundings. There is no in-between.

“Are you sick or what? Our girl is growing. You shouldn’t hug her or kiss her like that.”

“Like that? What are you talking about?”

A wicked grin flashed on Mrs. Nanami’s face. She clicked her tongue: once, twice, and thrice. And that was all it took to break the family apart. It was never perfect to be with. It was always picture-perfect. Fights and arguments became frequent while y/n outshined in her career and her mother’s possessiveness for her turned poisonous. Cameras flashing one after another, eyes watering, eyelid jumping, unable to figure out the cause of tears: whether it was her parents or the lights. And in all this mayhem of emotions, Hiromi was the only one who would make a joke about it or laugh it off over a shared cup of coffee or over-the-counter smoke. Who was she running from?

A week. Within a week she has to apply for the student exchange program. Within a week she had lost her father, and her mother and pushed away her only shelter. There was no time to lose. . . to do what? To make things right? Was there ever any to begin with?

“Yep. I’ll take that.” y/n quipped before paying the florist for the bouquet. Mrs. Higuruma likes to decorate her house with flowers. Since her childhood, she has always seen her father, Kento takes a bouquet for her and she would be so bubbly about it. It felt like life smiling back at her whenever she received flowers. And, after the death of their son that is the only time when she smiles, as per Hiro. Hiro . . . her hero.

The wisteria blooms were close to vanishing as if death walked all over this place. As Y/N walked into the huge building of his house, she felt death creeping on her back too. She was greeted by his secretary, the flowers in her hand that were supposed to bring a smile to someone wilted when she heard that Mrs. Higuruma was involved in an accident and was now in a coma.

It was almost midnight when she reached the hospital. The corridors are empty, the receptionist was busy with paperwork. There were people sitting outside the patient ward. Does she really have to do this? As she took the turn her exhaustive pupils spotted him. Hiromi was sitting crossing his legs, elegantly placing his elbow on his thigh having the perfect reading position, but he was not reading. He was staring at a photo.

At every bench, a person or two was sitting, radiating more hopelessness and despondency. Y/N could breathe it in. But Higuruma was cut out from the rest. He is a retired lawyer, he has seen death as much as a doctor, heck he even fueled death and sometimes tricked it. And, now he was trapped. She walked towards him with slow steady steps trying not to make much noise, damn those heels. Hiromi ripped the photo. She was at arm's length as he threw it in the nearby dustbin and before recoiling back to his seat, his eyes landed on her, Y/N.

Hiromi who was about to yell seeing her standing so close to him, instead, he whispered with rage smeared on his face, eyebrows congested and face contorted, “Are you alone, again?” Hiromi held her arms as she almost threw herself to his chest. How can he be so calm about death and destruction? “How many times have I told you not to go anywhere alone? Look what happened to her?” Hiromi was worried, not for his wife but for this girl. She had her whole life ahead while his wife was already decaying. It was another arranged marriage that had not the right stars aligned, as put by him.

She gathered enough courage to ask, “Can I see her?” Hiromi nodded and led the way. Even in all these metro streams of endless suffering, she did not forget to put that flower bouquet in the vase. The only sounds in this awful silence were the tick of the clock, the whizz of breathing, and the click of her heels as she walked out of the ward. She took a look on both sides of the corridor but could not spot Hiro. Ah!she has to drink that bitter coffee again.

The cogs of her fate turned again. The monitor beeped tremendously like a monster cackling maniacally for death. The doctors, nurses, and other staff rushed all at once. While most of the people were rushing towards the room, Y/N was walking away from it. She stopped when she saw Hiromi walking with the crowd, slower than his usual pace with two cups of filtered coffee. Life ran at light speed while two souls were howling in agony. No one could hear them except themselves. It was the longest sleepless night she ever spent.

She reached home by three in the morning. Hiromi asked two of his staff to drop her. He would have volunteered but they both have been misunderstood. The first period was at twelve so that was a relief but there was something else that was weighing her mind, a message, a sign of affection, a cry for help.

[ Hiro-san : “Tomorrow. 10’ o clock. Don’t be late.” ]

The guests dispersed as soon as Mrs. Higuruma was buried. Higuruma went inside the house. It was lonelier than before but less silent than before. He checked his phone to see if there was any message from her. There was none, which means, she is coming. He sat on his couch, spreading his legs and leaning against the headrest. If he reeked of anything, it was neither sadness nor death but repentance. He was after something that did not belong to him, not in this life. But maybe, in another place and time . . . God! He is such a jealous man.

When Y/N checked her watch, it was already one o’clock. The burial ceremony was over. Fuck. Well, after the last meeting, she was reluctant to see him again but she has to go, otherwise who will? Certainly, not her mom. Plus, she specifically scoured her whole wardrobe to find that one black outfit that is her least favorite, actually, her mother’s least favorite. She is definitely going.

It’s silent. It’s quiet. It feels like she is looking into a bottomless well waiting for some sort of miracle. The wind blows are strong, so strong that she could hear the low whistle with it. His hands were inside the pocket, perfect for someone to hook their arms around hers. She is so wide open, and again she is without any guard. . .

Higuruma grabbed her elbow, and as her body turned against his, Hiromi pressed his lips onto hers. Soft, sweet-fruity smelling and there was no resistance in her body. Her hands grabbed onto the collar of his long stygian overcoat tightly, fighting for her life as if she was drowning in the sea grasping onto a twig while the storm rises.

“I regretted not doing this last night,” Higuruma said, holding her in his arms.

She exhaled and looked at him, with embering eyes exclaiming, “Your friend is going to kill you when he is out of jail.” Y/N murmured still relishing the aftertaste of the smokey kiss she shared with Hiromi, still catching up her breath with her face cupped by Hiromi’s warm palms, still trying to process what the fuck actually happened . . .?

“Better him than you”, he added, pressing another kiss at the corner of her lips.

Y/N felt her chest being torn apart, the bones of her rib cage cracking, and yet flowers blooming out of it. To be loved yet be afraid of it, to be born as a bird and then be a wingless bird when asked to fly. . . That’s how she felt when she watched him carefully take her hands in his, tightening his hold, and interlacing his fingers with hers as they walked toward the exit of the graveyard.

She made up her mind. She was going to apply for the post-graduation student exchange program. Either she has to walk away from this or embrace it. There is no in-between.

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