#murder in our midst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

konigbabe · 8 months

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steal the thunder - I -

Pairing: Hajime Kashimo x fem!sorcerer!reader Word count: 5.8k Tags/warnings: no y/n; unhinged reader; manga spoilers (Culling Games + Perfect Preparation arcs); fight description; canon-typical violence; there will be eventual smut in the later parts fyi Summary: There's murder in the air – with the Culling Games underway, a simple task of finding an angel turns to a fight for life when you meet a certain, static and 400 years old sorcerer with cyan hair and wicked intentions.

Artwork by poro (poro06625649) on Twittter [source]; divider by @skylightlantern [source] For a better understanding of the reader's CE and CT, visit this Tumblr post.

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There's murder in the air – an unsettling undertone that pollutes the atmosphere. Gentle breeze carrying the metallic fragrance of blood within its currents.

The dockside keeps quiet. Sky clear, devoid of seagull calls. Walking by colossal steel shipping containers, stacked high, the scent persists. Clings to the air like a persistent specter. Each step accompanied by the gentle lap of waves against the pilings, their rhythmic cadence a stark contrast to the horrors you've seen.A soothing lullaby in the midst of chaos.

The maze-like layout of the quayside comes to an end when your muscles strain, lifting off the ground and landing atop the steel structure.

A giant panda comes into view. Its relaxed posture, perched on hindlimbs, contrasts with its impassive countenance as it gazes your way.

"Panda," you address what some might believe to be an actual animal; innocent, cute and completely harmless. Except for this Cursed Corpse – your subordinate – is none of those things.

He fixes you with your very name; a disturbing familiarity in his eyes, then the words escape his lips.

"The smell of blood's so thick," he voices as you draw near, words cutting through the tension. "There must be about three people dismembered here–"

You hold up two fingers, the other hand nestled in your pocket.

"Two actually," you intervene, voice a measured interruption, "walked past a man with a hole the size of a soccer ball in his chest."

The memory resurfaces – the sight of the man, head drooping, neck bent at an unnatural angle. Eerie web-like burns sprawled across his bare flesh. The smell of singed skin and ozone hangs in the air, a pungent reminder. Yet, it's not just that which jolts your senses. It's the residual static of someone's cursed energy, an unsettling presence that lingers.

"But that's not what troubles me," continuing, you stand next to Panda, arms now crossed as both of you watch the lifeless skies, "something bad's here. I tried following the remnants of the cursed energy of the perpetrator but it was very faint."

"Could be an expert who can turn their cursed energy on and off at will…" Panda thinks out loud.

You let the idea sit for a second. Could it be the case? Could someone in this colony be capable of doing it? Known, registered sorcerers are absent here. The majority are newly awakened, scarcely equipped to comprehend a sophisticated notion like this. And why would they feel the need to hide their cursed energy?

No.

Dismissing your doubts, you shake your head and stride toward the edge of the shipping container.

"Don't think so. Nevertheless, we're here to find that angel girl and negotiate with her." Stepping onto the container's edge, unfazed by the high drop; balancing skillfully, you extend one leg over the edge, about to step into empty space. In a seamless motion, you touch down on the solid concrete ground below.

Panda follows suit, rolling off the shipping container with agility, landing right beside you. Then he stands, an odd combination of human-like stance and panda appearance, more akin to a person in a panda costume than an actual animal.

"Our safest bet is to leave the docks. Fast. Just play pretend, avoid any unnecessary conflicts and make it out of this colony in one piec–"

The sentence's left hanging as a sudden shift in the atmosphere catches your attention. Panda falls on all fours, frozen still.

"Ah," a deeper, resonant voice rumbles from your right, the words echoing as the familiar sensation washes over you. A sudden buzz inside your mind, an abrupt surge of awareness regarding another sorcerer's presence. Heart mirroring the rapid flutter of a startled bird's wings.

Their cursed energy, concealed and latent, manages to evoke an almost primal response within you. A sense of fight or flight.

You pivot to face the uninvited presence before you.

A cascade of hair, vivid as a robin's egg and kissed by the hues of a clear summer sky, is gathered into twin buns atop his head while tendrils of untamed locks dance freely in the breeze, resembling a stormy sea. Longer bangs frame the contours of his face, softening his visage.

He stops when his eyes – the same uncanny shade as his hair – bore into yours. Carrying what you'd guess is a Nyoi staff slung over his shoulder, he stands at a slight angle. Excludes casual confidence, a sense of poised readiness.

"Another one," he breaks the silence. You stand your ground in response to his observation.

"Not interested in a fight," you remark, hands risen in a defensive gesture. Yet you don't dare take your eyes off the sorcerer. Ready and composed.

Panda, ostensibly cautious, inches closer to you, fur bristling in sync with his unease towards the newcomer's presence. The air tightens, charged with the unspoken potential for violence.

"Kogane," he calls out to the shikigami, summoning it like a wisp from the aether; the small creature materializes, its hue the shade of a serene lake, light and amicable as it floats near his head, "is the panda a player too?"

The shikigami screeches its answer, its words setting everything in motion.

"Indeed!! A player! Yep!!"

"That's a function," your pondering voice meets a forced silence. The state of perturbed ambiance vanishing as your thoughts are cut off.

A flesh of white. Empty space occupies the spot where the sorcerer was standing less than a second ago.

You sense his presence before your eyes even settle on his countenance; his eyes, framed with short zig-zag lines reminiscent of lightning bolts underneath them, a furious cauldron of murderous excitement as they lock onto yours. They widen with a manic intensity. An undertone of madness lurking deep within their depths.

A predator's gaze fixated on its prey.

In a heart-stopping moment, time stands still. The world around you fades into a blur as a primal instinct takes over. Your body reacts; a precision born of pure reflex – muscles coiled like springs, you counter his attack with a swift and calculated movement.

His volatile energy crackles in the air. Your hands snap up. Fingers attempting to curl around his bandaged forearm. Channeling your cursed energy to your clavicles, the place where his palm lays flat against you –

But your reactions prove inadequate. You're too slow. A shocking speed and heavy push; a surge of force is sent through your body, catching you off-guard. The ground beneath you becomes a temporary adversary. Your balance disrupted as you're sent flying backward.

Back colliding with the hard, metal steel of a shipping container – you watch in horror as the sorcerer mercilessly attacks Panda. Using his staff as a weapon. With unnatural speed and agility, Panda struggles against him; his valiant resistance a testament to his determination, his form a blur of motion as he evades the sorcerer's attacks and manages a few good blows of his own.

Your body feels light. A tingling sensation surging through your veins. Electric current's rushing beneath your skin, setting your pulse racing and your focus to a razor's edge. The metallic taste of blood floods your mouth. Mingles with the adrenaline in your body. Every nerve firing in response to the raw energy pulsing through your body.

It hits you then–

"Heh, electricity," you mumble, the word slipping from your lips as you raise your palms, clenching your fists. Feeling the tingling in the tips of your fingers. The slight buzzing in your ears.

–his cursed energy has a special trait. One certainly hard to defend against.

Barely seconds have passed since your body was forced to rest against the ground. It still feels too long with Panda barely matching the man's speed and force.

Gritting your teeth, the urgency of the situation anchors you, overriding any pain or disorientation as you fight to regain your footing. A sense of pride fills you when you watch Panda use his technique, striking the sorcerer with enough force that'll easily knock him out cold. One of Panda's winning moves.

Except it doesn't.

"Nice one," the man's voice rings out. A taut smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Your teeth clench, disbelief intertwining with unease as you watch. With a predominated precision, the sorcerer maneuvers his staff, entwining it with Panda's arm in a smooth motion that catches you off guard.

Exerting a forceful pull, he forces a grimace from Panda. Right arm caught in the vice-like grip, a sickening crack underscores the moment. Followed by the nauseating sensation of Panda's arm being torn from his body. Violently. And mercilessly.

Panda stumbles. Pain and agony escaping in a cry. The sorcerer doesn't waste a second. Hurls the arm back at Panda, using the momentum to charge forward. Palm aiming flat against his chest, he sends Panda flying backward – the same way he did to you. Causing your junior to experience a similar sensation to yours.

The cyan-haired man straightens, seemingly relaxing, already content with winning the fight.

"But I'm not impressed," he taunts, words an ominous echo of the violence just unleashed, "It's too ordinary."

Feeling the concrete beneath your feet, you take deliberate steps forward. With an inkling of Panda's potential strategy, you expel the pooled blood from your mouth, spitting it onto the ground.

"...Sukuna, you know where he is?" The man's words flow, attention diverted, ignorant of your presence.

A fortunate circumstance.

"No clue," Panda responds. His reply burdened with weariness and defeat; yet his gaze remained fixed on you, a silent exchange of understanding passing between you as you position yourself, tension radiating from his weary form.

The sorcerer scoffs; a contemptuous tilt of his head, a gesture laden with superiority. "Sounds like you know something, then," he snarls, his grip on the staff constricting as his fist clenches, "Spit it out. I'll be merciful."

With the sorcerer's back turned you raise your arm. Your gaze remains fixed upon the convergence point of the two delicate lines, their path crossing at the very heart of the expanse that's the upper part of his broad back.

"I won't be," you declare; voice carrying a firm tone. A deft flick of your wrist – the current of cursed energy takes the desired shape before it's hurled toward your target. Slashing the air in front of you, aimed right at him.

His gaze veers to the side. And in a fraction of a heartbeat, he moves; executing a skillful sidestep. Body positioned to face you from the side, both hands now gripping his staff, aiming it at you; a glint of fervor ignites his eyes as they widen, locked onto the shipping container stationed behind Panda. The unforgiving force of your attack rends the shipping container apart, leaving two gaping slashes that could bisect a man.

You don't give him time to react properly.

The moment blood begins to stain his white robe crimson red from the nick on his shoulder, you lunge forward. Like a bull being waved a red flag. Feet imbued with your cursed energy, reinforced to ensure protection.

As you close the distance at a breakneck pace, you sense the distinct composition of his cursed energy. With your fingers curled around the staff, your eyes meet his, a faint grin playing at the corners of your mouth as you tug on his weapon with your full body weight. Lifting your legs off the ground, you use the staff as a fulcrum. His body feels resilient, akin to forged steel, against the soles of your shoes.

With the potency of your cursed technique coursing through your strike, the man is propelled backward, his body hurtling through the air. The Nyoi staff clings to the concrete. Left untouched upon the impact.

Flying through a shipping container, he quickly finds his footing. Stance shifting in response to your aerial maneuver. Legs splayed to establish a firm foundation, you focus your intent on targeting his jaw. Fists charged with cursed energy, you hit once; knowing how troublesome the push-and-pull effect of your technique feels once your flesh makes contact–

"Not bad," he manages to spit out, the corner of his lip stained red. A smile tugs at the corner of his lip as you sprint toward him.

The surroundings blur into a muddled backdrop, irrelevant in your unwavering concentration. The sorcerer becomes the sole axis, a focal point in a world that seems to slow to a crawl, even though only a fraction of a second has passed.

The tip of your foot touches his; a mere whisper of contact between two opposing forces.

"Not bad at all."

–he counterattacks. Hand darts forward. Grabs your wrist. With an economy of motion, he employs your own momentum against you. His grip becomes a pivot, briefly throwing you off-balance, diverting your forward surge into an unexpected spiral.

Fluidity. That's how you'd characterize his movements. A seamless transition from being a passive target to an active agent.

His chest brushes against your back as his right hand remains locked around your right wrist. Single-handedly swinging your body like a marionette, you exploit the vulnerability of your position. Using his grip as leverage to move backward, simultaneously grabbing hold of his bandaged left forearm and pulling. Crashing your body into his, redirecting the movement into a collision.

With a potent surge of intention, you force the prepared rejection and attraction effect within your clenched fist, propelling it like a bolt toward the rear of your skull. Teeth gritted, you throw your head back.

Crack.

He stifles a groan, a step taken back but footing resolute. A red trail paints his nose as you swivel to confront him. Pausing briefly to charge your energy again, you grant him a moment to speak. His expression freezes as he locks eyes with you

"You," he speaks up, his voice textured with the tang of iron as his tongue grazes his lips, "Have we met before?"

With your hand still tingling, the ripples of sensation spread up your arm, an electric current tracing a pattern beneath your skin. Your head sways subtly, dispelling the notion of a previous encounter. "Unlikely. You'd be history."

A chuckle dances from his lips, a response to your retort. "What's your name then?"

You share it deliberately, each syllable a measured beat in your dance around one another. He nods, his head tilting with self-assured grace. It's then that he takes his stance – feet planted firmly, palms outstretched, a grin playing on his lips.

"The name's Hajime Kashimo."

The words hang, a telltale echo–

Hajime Kashimo.

–recognition snaps into place when you repeat his name in your mind.

The Hajime Kashimo, the sorcerer whose score reaches a hundred points; a mark that sets him apart from any other Culling game player (except for the intricate Hiromi Higuruma). Hakari's elusive target.

And here, right before you, stands the man himself.

"Hey," you call out, a new determination blossoming, your stance embracing the challenge; retreat is no longer a consideration, "if I beat you, can I get your points?"

The corners of Kashimo's lips twitch, smile fading like a wisp of smoke carried away by the wind. Expression blank, with only his brows furrowed as he responds, "Sure, but you tell me everything y'know about Sukuna," his voice lowered to a dangerous undertone, a velvet threat veiled in words, "that is–if you're still alive."

He charges then. Doesn't spare a single consideration. The air crackles with tension as his presence engulfs you. His hands make contact – not with fists or strikes – but with the calculated pressure of his open palms. You feel the weight of his touch on your skin. Pressure on your left, then on your right ribcage.

"Don't disappoint me now," breath tickles your ear, voice a tantalizing, dangerous melody. His fingers anchor firmly onto your right shoulder, an assertive grip that both commands and unsettles, while his other hand exerts a calculated force on your left shoulder guard, propelling you into a spin.

Your training surges forth, a symphony of muscle memory and instinct harmonizing within you. With the resilience born of countless battles, you swiftly adapt your stance, shifting your weight to face him.

An annoyed huff leaves your now-bruised lips. You channel your own cursed energy, a torrent of power surging through your veins.

Detain an attack when it comes,–

Knees bending, body swaying to evade the incoming fist; your left hand grips his left wrist, fingers tightening with determination, followed by your right driving into its intended mark.

–and send it away when it retreats.

Your palm meets the solid plane of his chest with a resonant thud; pushes and then pulls him back to you before sending him away again; successfully pushing back against Kashimo's pressure. It's a momentary reprieve. One that sends the sorcerer tumbling back, makes him roll on the ground, lending on one knee.

"Here I thought we were just getting started," you quip with a hint of playfulness amidst the dance of combat. Moving swiftly towards the target. As Kashimo's force ebbs, you seize the opportunity, your muscles coiling like springs.

"You're getting me–" he barely makes it back to his feet before you're at him again. With enough cursed energy imbued into your foot, utilizing the momentum of your motion, leg rising up in a calculated kick – only for Kashimo to shift; a fraction of movement that proves decisive. His arm weaves beneath the arc of your thigh, a sinuous and serpentine maneuver that seeks to entwine and subdue. As his grasp tightens, his fingers snake around your throat, lifting you from the ground, suspending you momentarily.

"–quite excited," he concludes, his voice tinged with an eerie excitement.

Once the hand is freed from contact,–

A heartbeat's pause feels like an eternity. With your legs rendered weightless and no stable ground beneath you. Despite the vulnerable position, your mind remains steadfast, honing in on Kashimo's Achilles heel. His hands are preoccupied, his grasp unwavering but his neck and face exposed.

–carry out a strike with it.

Seizing the opportunity, you make the most of the opening. Your palms press against the sharp contours of his cheeks, each hand finding its place on one side of his face. In one swift and deliberate motion, you channel the wellspring of cursed energy that resides within you into your technique. The currents of your energy converge between your palms, weaving a tapestry of arcane force that manifests as a palpable vacuum, centered precisely where his head rests.

It's an intentional manipulation. One – if done right, that is – could even lead to a cataclysmic implosion. A violent severing of life from the body. But you don't want to kill him; not yet at least. You need the points. And so, you temper your approach, exerting only the necessary amount of energy to induce a sensation of compression.

As the feeling envelops him, Kashimo's expression shifts, a flicker of realization that dances within his eyes. He instinctively withdraws. Bandaged forearms push at your body, sending you hurtling backward; a testament to his strength and strategic finesse.

"You cheeky little thing," a bead of blood traces a path from the corner of his eye. At the same time, another droplet emerges from his nose.

This time it's him who doesn't let you regain enough control as he charges at you. His approach swift and unrelenting. The tables are constantly turning – now being his time to dictate the tempo.

Another dance of offense and defense plays out as the two of you clash once again. Each move a deliberate response to the other's actions.

Chase the movement of the opponent–

As the flurry of his strikes slices through the air, you find yourself navigating the ebb and flow with a synchronicity that borders on the sublime. With a hawk-like focus, you track the trajectory of his hand, your senses attuned to his every motion.

While his hits continue to swing through both empty space and meeting your body, a fleeting opportunity presents itself. With the precision of a seasoned sorcerer, you follow the path of his hand with your own, fingers closing around his forearm as it narrowly misses your cheekbone, the other digging into the open slash wound on his shoulder.

–to continue the attack.

It earns you a hiss. A "Tsk," coming from his damaged lips.

One fluid motion; one that belies your strength. You capitalize on the momentum of his own swing, utilizing your grip to exert control. Your foot surges forward with unbridled force, the sole of your shoe connecting with the vulnerable juncture of his knee.

Kashimo's reflexes kick in as he instinctively leaps back the moment your foot makes contact with his leg. His visage bears the marks of battle, a canvas adorned with streaks of red, the vestiges of blood from the prior exchange. A mirror to his appearance, your own face likely reflects a similar narrative. Marked by the intensity of the confrontation. By his pure, physical prowess. One that, even if you use all your cursed energy, you're certain you couldn't match.

The shadows of weariness begin to cast their subtle touch on you. A weight that tempers your movements and shadows the clarity of your thoughts. Each calculated step, each strategic strike, seems to bear an additional burden now.

Still, resolute, your unwavering determination fixated on Kashimo, persevering in the face of creeping exhaustion.

Then you take off.

With a surge of action, you propel yourself into motion. Pivoting on your heel, you sprint toward the towering container crane a mere few meters behind. Kashimo's quick thinking registers in the corner of your vision—a flash of white on your right, drawing nearer.

"Running so soon?"

His taunting words reach you.

"Just limbering up," you reply. Muscles tensing, you feel his energy almost brushing against your own. So, with a leap, you vault into the air. Fingers curling around your ankle.

Time seems to slow as Kashimo's grip tightens around your ankle, his fingers like a vice attempting to anchor you to the ground. The world spins around you, the crane's towering structure becoming a blur as your body is abruptly yanked back, denied the freedom of flight.

Instinct kicks in, your mind racing to find a solution. With a swift twist of your body, you channel the energy within, your cursed power surging to your fingertips. A burst of force courses through your arm, the concentrated energy propelling your free leg forward in a powerful kick. Your heel connects with Kashimo's face, the impact forcing his grip to release.

In the split second of regained freedom, your body soars toward the container crane.

Muscles strained, you manage to grab hold of a protruding metal edge, fingers gripping with an iron determination. The harsh clang of metal meeting metal reverberates through the air as your body comes to a halt, swinging slightly from the momentum before you propel yourself higher onto the structure.

A smirk tugs at the corners of your lips. The distance between you and Kashimo now a tangible reminder of your evasion. His frustrated gaze meets yours, the tension between you electric and palpable.

"Nice try," you retort, voice laced with a mixture of weariness and defiance. There's an undeniable satisfaction in defying his grasp, in proving your prowess even amid exhaustion. Without wasting a moment longer, you hoist yourself up more, using the crane's structure to propel your body upward. Your form melds with the steel as you ascend, a maneuver to gain the vantage point.

Gotta limit his movement to the minimum.

Kashimo's expression shifts, a glint of admiration piercing through his irritation. "Impressive," he concedes, the words carrying an unexpected note of respect, "but you can't run from me."

He follows your lead. The two of you ascending the crane in a synchronized rhythm

"I told you, Kashimo–," you declare, your voice echoing between the steel beams as you reach the crane's zenith, standing face to face on the narrowest edge.

Now standing face to face on the crane's uppermost beam, the narrow back reach providing only small support. Your breath heaves, each inhalation a reminder of the intense exertion. Across from you, Kashimo's gaze remains fixed upon you, his expression deceptively relaxed.

"–that I'm only stretching."

His eyes, however, tell a different story – a depth of focus that cuts through your form. Anchoring onto you with an unwavering intensity.

A mournful melody weaves through the metal lattice, the wind's haunting whistle creating an eerie harmony with the tension in the air. The gusts playfully tousle both your hair in the process. You steady yourself into a stance, your body a testament to both resilience and purpose.

"Plus I want those points," you remark, a hint of determination coloring your words.

It's then that you charge — cursed energy flowing through your body like currents of compressed emptiness. A void. Unyielding. Relentless. And pneumatic.

With a flick of your wrist, you send it slicing through the air. A blade of nothing. A thin line etches across his chest, traversing from ribcage to his already wounded shoulder — a mark of your earlier endeavor. Nowhere to dodge now that he's standing between two metal beams.

Or so you thought.

Kashimo charges. The white of his robe tainted with scarlet. The cut isn't deep.

He must've reinforced his cursed energy.

"Tsk," you utter. A flicker of irritation crosses your features. Agitated. With waning stamina, the dwindling reservoir of cursed energy depleted by your previous usage; this could've been your last-ditch effort.

The final move.

And it failed.

It makes him smile. A sinister twist of lips that morphs into a grin. Moving fast, his expression resembles one of a predator closing in on its prey. The ruby stain on his robe seems to accentuate his aura of danger, a stark contrast to the pristine white it once was.

As your body contorts and arches backward, you skillfully evade the incoming fist aimed at your face. Your unwavering gaze remains locked onto his intense stare. With your palm pressed flat against the ground of the crane, you swiftly raise your leg, delivering a targeted strike to the meat of his thigh.

But before your maneuver can fully unfold, his hand seizes your ankle, pulling you towards him and locking your leg in place as he maneuvers over your body. Kashimo's grin widens, a predatory glint in his eyes that triggers a ripple of unease down your spine.

As his fist whizzes past your face, you seize the opportune moment to mount a counterattack. His fingers, still harshly locked around your right ankle, you push and pull against his grasp. Leg successfully moving to close over his thigh, the other hooking around his hip.

Legs now firmly encircling his waist, you use every ounce of your strength to push. Destabilize the sorcerer. Break his foundation. Disrupt his equilibrium.

The outcome? Both of you soaring through the air and down the crane. Kashimo's form aligns perfectly with the approaching solidity of the dockside concrete.

A rapid free fall, gravity's pull unrelenting.

If you're not getting the points, he's not getting his answers either.

His eyes momentarily flit to the ground below. Unspoken recognition of the shared peril that binds you both. The realization dawns in his eyes, widening them momentarily, before his gaze settles onto your face once more – unimpressed. Jaded.

"Oops," you jest under your breath, fingers finding purchase on the fabric of his torn clothes. An unhinged smile on your lips, eyebrows lifting in a mix of audacity and exhilaration. The wind sweeps through, rustling your hair with a cool caress that contrasts starkly with the warm stickiness of blood on your skin.

"It's accumulated enough."

That's the only forewarning you get. In an instant, the atmosphere shifts; an electrifying tension that dances along your skin. You sense the already familiar tingling as the static charges from the man beneath you. Kashimo's cursed energy now gaining intensity.

His open hand thrusts towards your face, a surge of energy gathering at his fingertips. Only to get countered by your own palm. Flat against each other. Forcing a focal point of energy converges and resistance to form. As the push effect comes into play just in time with waves of electricity.

The crackling intensity escalates, its tendrils reaching out with an insatiable hunger. Only to be pushed back by your own manipulation acting as a steadfast wall. It's a symphony of sensations — the tingling of your skin, the hum of power in the air, the gradual crescendo of pressure between your palms. The vortex throbs and pulses, a living embodiment of the forces you both wield.

The thing is – The conductivity of the vacuum…depending on how you look at it, it behaves in two different ways:

Firstly, when you examine the motion of charged particles with a constant velocity within a vacuum, you encounter an interesting phenomenon. Unlike in other mediums, there is no opposing force acting against these particles. Consequently, maintaining a steady current across any surface within a vacuum demands no additional effort.

However, a contrasting phenomenon manifests when we consider the existence of free charges within conductors. When an electric field, denoted as E, is imposed upon a conductor, it triggers a flow of electric current. This internal charge movement gives rise to a current density described by the equation: J = σE, where σ symbolizes the conductivity of the material. Notably, within a vacuum, σ assumes a value of 0; hence, electric fields lack the capacity to spontaneously induce current flow.

In this context, the vacuum departs from the role of a conductor. Even materials known as insulators, which typically restrict the flow of current, possess conductivity values that are low but not completely absent.

As a result, the resistance exhibited by a vacuum effectively amounts to infinity—particularly when you define resistance through the lens of how charge carriers in a substance respond. Viewed from this perspective, you could liken the vacuum to an insulator, given the absence of charge carriers that are essential for the propagation of electric current.

So in the end, your innate ability functions like an antistatic force.

It should be enough to counter his attack. Neutralizing his endeavor and ricocheting it back to him. Only if his other hand, clenched into a fist, suddenly hasn't entered your line of sight, aiming for your jaw.

The controlled push-only effect falters. Then crumbles. The void's pull reclaims all that Kashimo had imparted, drawing it back with an insatiable greed.

"Damn you." It now comes down to the last aspect of your technique.

Implosion.

The energies within your vacuum field converge, collapsing inwards with a blinding intensity. A jarring impact against the back of your head – or it might be the ending of your fall. Everything's just confusing. Everything blurs into a disorienting haze of continuous events.

The unforgiving touch of concrete grates against your scraped back. Each breath, now shallow and ragged, causes pain.

Above, the sky stretches wide and boundless. Until the sight is blocked by a mop of cerulean blue hair. Two buns somehow still in place. Same-colored eyes staring at your form. Arms folded and a countenance marred by bloodstains and scrapes. Each leg positioned on either side of your hips before one presses against the flat of your clavicles.

"You're quite durable," Kashimo retorts, pushing his weight down on you, "that should've killed you right there."

"Heh," you manage a wry chuckle, your voice strained but defiant, "guess I'm full of surprises."

He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of almost-amusement dancing in his eyes. The world around you seems to blur at the edges, the strain of the plummet combined with the failed attempt of your innate technique taking a heavy toll on your senses.

"It's been a while since I've encountered someone who can keep me on my toes this long. Now tell me," your name rolls off his tongue in a taunting lilt, "where's Sukuna?"

The distant sounds of the dockside begin to fade, replaced by an eerie emptiness. Despite your unwavering determination, a tide of dizziness threatens to engulf you, and you struggle to maintain your focus on Kashimo's face.

"On vaca–"

The weight on your chest vanishes abruptly. Kashimo's foot makes fleeting contact with your cheek before returning to its original place.

"Don't play with me. Spit it out."

"Oi," a voice calls to your right. A voice you know; Hakari's, "It's not very chivalrous to strike a lady like that."

From here, everything dissolves into darkness.

The world sways, a disorienting dance of shadows and sensations. Light pressure settles on your stomach with sounds echoing faintly in the distance. A gentle, steady rhythm envelops you as if you're being cradled in a cocoon of safety. Your limbs feel weightless, as though the ground beneath you has transformed into a soft cloud that carries your burdens away.

Your mind struggles to tether itself to the present, grappling with the fragments of consciousness that slip through your grasp. Colors blur, merging into a hazy kaleidoscope of fleeting images. The arms that encircle you exude warmth thought. One that lulls you back to sleep.

Yet you manage to summon the strength to part your heavy eyelids. Through the haze, you see a blur of black and white on top of you. Head resting upon something firm and solid – a breastplate, you realize. The rhythmic cadence that envelops you is accompanied by the subtle rise and fall of breath, a heartbeat that resonates beneath your cheek.

"Panda," you murmur, voice a tentative whisper as you attempt to comprehend whether or not you're dreaming, considering the creature on you is now a size of an actual teddy bear.

The toy-sized Panda remains seated on you but looks your way, emitting a surprised yelp at the sound of your voice, before swiftly turning his gaze forward again, "Hakari, she's awake!"

Your vision – still blurred – manages to trace a figure walking at the edge of your peripheral sight – left arm missing, shirt gone (he's shirtless, you discern), and crowned with purple hair. Hakari. But if Hakari's walking in front of you. Then…

Lifting your eyes, you suddenly lock onto a fleeting sight of vibrant cyan hair. The once-pristine white attire now soaked and marred with splotches of vivid red, creating an unsettling contrast. Your heart skips a beat as the realization dawns upon you.

It's Kashimo who bears the weight of your limp form.

"She's gonna pass out soon again," his voice carries vibrations that travel from his chest to your cheek with his gaze fixed upon you.

And he's right as your body, weary and battered, succumbs once more to the embrace of slumber.

#moni writes #hajime kashimo #hajime kashimo x reader #kashimo x reader #hajime x reader #jujutsu kaisen #hajime kashimo x y/n #hajime x y/n #kashimo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk imagines #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

Note

can I request jealous Wednesday x fem reader? Wednesday gets jealous of Xavier and the reader so she's more passive aggressive than usual and has the urge to pull pranks on Xavier. But when Wednesday sees reader and Xavier painting the reader chases after her

Summary: Wednesday is reluctant to accept that she’s jealous of your friendship with Xavier until it all comes ahead.

A/n: Also due to the fact of how fucking long I made this fic, I had to relegate pranks (plural) to a singular prank. I rambled a little bit ngl.

Wednesday hated the gut feeling she’d get whenever she saw you and Xavier within extreme close proximity of one another; As though you were trying to fuse into one being with how pressed against one another you were. It felt like she had a stone stuck in her stomach that refused to dissolve and was starting to cause external as well as internal issues the longer it went unresolved. Normally Wednesday viewed herself above expressing emotions should they not provide beneficial results to her in the long run for the remainder of her stay at Nevermore, or everyday life in general.

However it seemed to Wednesday that you were the peculiar exception to this golden rule she had lived by since the passing of her pet scorpion. She felt fluttery in her chest whenever you laughed, her clothed skin burned with the remnants of your accidental touches and she felt most anticipating when she made plans with you after classes. You’ve managed to brought fourth emotions Wednesday long thought she had killed in order of bettering herself whether you were aware of your effect or not.

She hated it, she hated not being in control of her emotions and by that logic, Wednesday should hate you for being the reason for her lack of self control but she didn’t. Instead she directed all her hatred towards Xavier to the point that castration was a considered punishment but knowing how Nevermore operates; Wednesday knew that short of thing would’ve be allowed to fly without repercussions. ‘A pity really,’ she thought to herself as she maintained eye contact with the back of Xavier’s head as he playfully nudged you with his shoulder, ‘a shame even.’

Enid wished she could see the inner workings of Wednesday’s head but with how brutally she was stabbing the lunch table with her blunt knife, she quickly changed her mind in fear of that knife being directed at her next. “Wednesday, remember what we talked about when we get urge to stab something.” Enid spoke hesitantly as she tried to safely remove the knife away from Wednesday’s hand. When it was brought down harder then the previous times, blade lodged deeply within the table that once Wednesday lets go of the handle, the knife however remained standing straight up. Her eyes never departing from you nor Xavier as they blazed with silent fury. “Keep stabbing until it stops moving.” She replied blankly before standing up.

“Hey! Wednesday! Where are you going-“ Enid tried calling out to her friend when her words got caught up in her throat when her eyes followed the direction she was heading; You and Xavier. “Oh no.” Enid whispered as she rushed after Wednesday in hope of preventing someone’s (read: Xavier’s) death. “I do not want to be caught in the midst of a murder today, I just got these clothes recently and blood would not go well with them.” She rambled under her breath as nervousness got the better of her when she finally managed to catch up with Wednesday who was looking straight at you.

“Y/n.”

“Oh shit.” you almost jumped out of your chair at the sudden voice beside you had Xavier not caught you by the shoulders to stabilise you. Giving the boy your thanks you looked to your side of the table to see Wednesday and Enid standing there. “Hey Wednesday! Hey Enid, what’s up? Me and Xavier here were just-“ “I need you to come over to my-“ “our” Enid interrupted, flashing a smile when Wednesday looked at her with almost murderous intent before bringing her attention back to you. “Our dorm,” she shot enid a glare, “to look over some studies that were assigned to us last period.”

“We did?” You questioned as you, Xavier and Enid share a look of confusion as all four of you had last period together and to your recollection, there was no tasked assignment. So either you had shit memory or something else was at hand here that you were oblivious towards. Xavier shrugged his shoulders, “beats me and I tend to pay attention in my classes.” You shoved him by the shoulder as you laughed, “you fucking liar, no you don’t you always end up copying my notes or worse!” Xavier chuckled, extending his hand to pat your sympathetically on the shoulder.

“I make it up to you don’t I?” He asked innocently, making you scoff as you swat away his hand. before bringing his attention to Wednesday who by now has her jaw so tightly clenched behind a deadpan face that she swore she felt some teeth crack under the pressure she was putting them under. “Are you sure we got an assessment Wednesday? Me and y/n here have made plans to go beyond and explore the realms of possibilities of which through art later tonight.” Xavier iterated the last part in a tone he knew would get to you, in the end you couldn’t help but snort as you smacked his shoulder. “Stop talking like that, I’ll think I’ll piss myself.” You croaked through your laughter as you leant against Xavier for support.

“Too much information y/n,” Xavier grimaced but he sucked at keeping it up as his lips cracked into a bigger smile, “just too much information.” Whilst you both were distracted with your laughter, Enid could see that Wednesday was gesturing for something lurking under your table with her head and when she went to angled herself better to see what it was and to her surprise; Thing could be seen unlacing Xavier’s shoelaces before tying them back together again in a fashion that would have him take a personal greeting with the floor before scampering off back to where he came.

Now Enid never pegged Wednesday as the prankster type, considering the fact that she had told her time and time again that she was above such childish shenanigans. Yet here she was, having Thing pull pranks on her behalf all because she was jealous. “You’re right,” Wednesday uncharacteristically admitted, “must’ve got my dates incorrect, how foolish of me.” She then shrugs but before she leaves your table; Wednesday looked back over her shoulder, “Xavier.” She said. “Yeah?” He replied, albeit confused. “Watch your step.” Was all she said before walking away, leaving Enid to hastily bid you both goodbye as she rushed to catching up to her before mouthing something neither of you could decipher.

“What did she meant by that?” Xavier asked as he looked at you, watching the back of Wednesday’s head as she faded from view. “No idea but hearing that come from her? It’s probably not a good thing.” You admitted, sensing that something was off with Wednesday but you knew better then to openly confront a hostile animal. She wouldn’t budge an inch. So you decided that it would be best to let her work through whatever it was that she was going through in her own time. “Well that’s real reassuring.” Xavier said glumly before slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“We better get going before we’re late to herbology class.” He adds as he goes to stand up but as he attempts to move out from his seat; Xavier notices a little too late that his shoes were mysteriously tied together, causing him to trip over himself and fall flat on the floor with a yelp. “Oh my god, Xavier are you alright!” You exclaimed as you scrambled to help him up off of the floor, dusting him down of any dirt that might’ve lingered. “I understood what she meant by that now.” Xavier grimaced in pain. You both ended up being late for class by a couple of minutes due to Xavier stopping to unlace his shoes and tying them back up properly before practically sprinting across Nevermore towards your next lesson.

The next time Wednesday walked in on you and Xavier bonding, it wasn’t until nightfall that she came across the sound of laughter filling the air, growing louder and louder the closer she got to the abandoned shed Xavier had tricked out into an art studio. Her blood still boiled with how at ease Xavier seemed whenever he got physical with you and how you never seem to bask in his affection. She despised her Achilles heel which was you and the illogical thoughts you brought up within her head, causing her to loose rational train of thought and sleep as she now wandered the school grounds late at night in hopes for sleep to greet her. However Wednesday found herself stood outside the shed where she could hear yours and Xavier’s conversation loud and clear.

“You messy pup! Your getting paint on everything except the canvas!” Xavier exclaimed though it was in good nature considering how quick he was to laugh. “We’ll maybe if I had more to go on then the bullshit excuse of ‘painting with my heart.’ Then I wouldn’t be such a messy pup then would I?” You replied, reduced to a laughing fit of your own. It was obvious to Wednesday that you were both having fun, so much fun in fact that she believed that she was the last thing on your mind. You rarely visited her and Enid in their dorm anymore, too busy having Xavier occupying your time. Seemingly possessed by the betrayal she was feeling in that moment, Wednesday forcefully opened the door in time to see Xavier stand a breaths width away from you, holding your face in his hands as his thumb rubs away at some remnants of paint.

His gaze seemed a little too intense for Wednesday’s liking as she took into account of the way he looked at you that same exact way she caught herself looking at you; as though you’ve painted the night sky of which you hung the stars from. Your eyes darted to hers as they widened at the realisation of how this looked to other people but before you could open your mouth to say anything. Wednesday had already slammed the door shut behind her as she left. Xavier knew there was something between you and Wednesday and he wanted to help you in expressing your feelings in a way that didn’t suffocate Wednesday. However it seemed that she might’ve misunderstood this as him making a move on you which couldn’t be further from the truth. “Go after her.” Xavier said, stepping away from you.

“She won’t believe me-“ “well then try to make her believe you.” Xavier stopped you before you could admit defeat. “You like this girl don’t you?” He asked, “of course I do Xavier, I like her very, very much.” You admitted, feeling the tears of frustration well up in the corner of your eyes. Xavier smiled softly as he cross the room to open the door, “Then go get her, tiger.” He urges as he gestured towards the silhouette of Wednesday that was slowly fading away from view the further and further away she got. You smiled at Xander, “thank you.” You said to him before bolting out of the art studio and after Wednesday as fast as your legs could carry you.

“You got this!” You heard Xavier exclaim from behind which only pushed you even further forward as you darted past trees, bushes, the archery range until you could vaguely make out Wednesday making her way to the front of the building that lead up to her dorm in Ophelia Hall. “Wednesday!” You called, uncaring of who you woke up in the process, the only thing that mattered to you was setting things straight. “Wednesday wait, I need to talk to you!” You saw Wednesday stop at the doors and you almost felt like collapsing when you finally caught up to her, leaving heavily on the door as you struggled to filling your lungs with the sufficient amount of oxygen.

“What do you want.” Wednesday snapped. She hadn’t meant to stop but something within her told her that she’d be better off hearing you out. “I’m going to cut the bullshit and get to the point,” you said through gasps, coughing briefly before taking a deep breath, “I like you Wednesday Addams. I like you a lot, I’ve been meaning to find ways of telling you how I feel that wouldn’t overwhelm you or make you uncomfortable. So I’ve taken to asking Xavier for advice because he’s and artist and shit as you know.” Wednesday felt a familiar fluttering in her chest as you continued to explain yourself when all she really cared enough to hear was that you liked her and only did what you did as to not force her out of her comfort zone for you.

So instead of letting you continue your long winded explanation, Wednesday merely grabbed ahold of your shirt, pulling you into her lips as she gave you a chaste kiss before shoving you away slightly. Your wide eyed expression had a smile creep up on Wednesday’s face as she quickly composed herself. “I like you too,” she headed you silently cheer to yourself, “however you can start repaying me for sacrificing our time together by joining me on the astrology tower tomorrow night.” Your eyes widened and your smile stretched across your face. “Like a date, a date date?” Wednesday couldn’t help but scoff at your choice of words before replying, “yes, like a date date.”

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday imagine #Wednesday imagines #Wednesday x you #Wednesday fanfic #Wednesday fox #Wednesday Addams x you #Wednesday Addams imagines #Wednesday Addams imagine #Wednesday Addams fanfic #Wednesday Addams fic

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kpopfanfictrash · 10 months

Text

Until Death (M)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Contributor:@baebae-goodnight for this unbelievable moodboard truly, like, WHAT

Genre: Green Bone Saga!AU || Organized Crime / Forbidden Romance / Suspense + Action

Author’s Note: This one shot is set in the Green Bone Saga universe, written by Fonda Lee. You do not need to have read this series in order to read this one shot (I explain concepts/terms), but I do HIGHLY encourage you to read this series at some point because it’s absolutely amazing!! Anyways, Yoongi dropped the Haegeum MV and I was like.... did he read Jade City lol. Further disclaimer this is not a retelling of the books, nor does the Kaul family exist in this version of Kekon (although the No Peak clan does)

Pairing: Yoongi / Reader

Synopsis: Jade has always shaped the island of Kekon. Mined from the mountains, it enhances the abilities of Green Bone warriors who wear it and allows them protection from outside harm. No one understands these threats better than you do, second-in-command of the mighty No Peak clan.

When a new danger appears, seeming to come from within, everything you once took for granted is called into question. Including the bonds you’ve made, some more dangerous than the others. None more so than Min Yoongi, head of No Peak and the only one capable of destroying your heart.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: graphic violence, fight scenes and mature content (character dies in the story; not main character)

NSFW Warnings: dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, spanking, oral (female), multiple orgasms, possessiveness, unprotected sex (couple is monogamous), spit, hand job

Word Count: 17,650

[ Cross-posted to Wattpad here ]

“There’s a rat in our midst,” Jungkook growls, slamming his fist to the table.

No one in the room flinches, although several glance fleetingly in the direction of the Pillar. The typically mild-mannered head of No Peak frowns, clearly disturbed by the recent attacks. Only a madman wouldn’t be.

Still, his voice remains calm while answering your second Fist. “That remains to be seen,” Yoongi says. As though the current situation could be perceived as anything but a threat.

Subtle, you flick a glance towards him, then away. In the corner of your eye, you see Yoongi’s lips curve before smoothing to nothing. Lowering his palms to rest on the table, the ends of his sleeves rise to reveal solid jade.

Leaning back, you survey the table before you. As the Horn of No Peak, it’s your job to defend the clan’s territory – by force, if necessary. Several levels of Green Bone warriors report into you, including your Fingers (the lowest of soldiers) and Fists, your direct reports.

Jungkook became Second Fist only a month prior but already, he’s created a name for himself. An impulsive, somewhat violent name for himself.

In this case though, you happen to agree with him. Not one, but two Lantern Men – commercial patrons of No Peak – have turned up dead in the past week, tortured beyond recognition. Over a week has passed since the first murder and still, there’s no suspect. Neither man was wealthy nor wore jade beyond a single piercing. Each was killed in a different part of town with no family in common. For a week, you’ve been racking your brain for motive and coming up empty.

Peeved by the thought, your fingertips dig into your leather jacket. Perceiving the shift to your aura, Yoongi starts to turn – catching himself just in time and facing forward.

An assortment of Lantern Men, Fists and Luckbringers (the money-making side of the clan) sit around a worn table. All watch the Pillar warily, as though uncertain how this meeting will end.

Tilting his head, strands of dark hair fall across Yoongi’s forehead. Studs of green line his ears, a single bolt of jade threaded through his right brow. Since the Academy, Yoongi has preferred to wear his jade as piercings – except for the clusters on fingers and wrists. He flexes these now, a visual display of power.

Jade from the island of Kekon is powerful; toxic to all but the Green Bones trained to wear it. To them, it grants unique power in each of the six disciplines: Strength, Steel, Perception, Lightness, Deflection and Channeling. Being from Kekon is no guarantee a person can wear and use jade, though. Individual tolerance varies, with most not able to withstand more than a few pieces.

No one in No Peak wears more jade than the Pillar – no one but you, that is.

This thought brings little comfort in a room such as this. Most of the sycophants seated around the table would turn on Yoongi – and No Peak – in a heartbeat. If it’d enrich their coffers, they would switch sides, honor be damned. You trust your Fists and Fingers but find it hard to extend the same grace to Namjoon’s side of the clan.

Kim Namjoon, known as the Weather Man, heads No Peak’s monetary ventures. Ranking as highly as you, he reports directly to Yoongi. Turning to face Namjoon, you make no attempt to hide your suspicion.

Although he doesn’t meet your gaze, his annoyance flares. Namjoon’s jade aura is weaker, fueled by one or two jade rings on his fingers. More would be unnecessary in his line of work. Namjoon’s lips tighten, able to Perceive your attention.

Perception is one of the more interesting skills of a Green Bone. Wearing jade creates an aura and through it, other Green Bones can sense emotion and intention. For example, you sense that Namjoon is annoyed, but you don’t know why. You can hazard a guess, based on the context.

Although you both graduated from the Academy at the same time, you barely knew Namjoon in your youth. The Kim family is legendary, having fought alongside Yoongi’s grandfather to dispel the Shotarian occupation of Kekon. You, on the other hand, moved to the city of Janloon when you were ten and joined the Academy as an outsider.

Not only were your social circles different, so were your interests. Even as children, Namjoon preferred brains over brawn, while you – well, you don’t enjoy violence, but you understood its necessity in protecting those you love. Ever since your father’s death, what you love has been No Peak.

You suppose Yoongi could’ve picked a worse person for Weather Man. Namjoon is shrewd, if occasionally withholding. He has the best interests of the clan at heart, even if you often disagree about what those interests are.

“Min-jen,” Namjoon says, the respectful title flowing from him like water. “I share your frustration with the current situation. My men are, of course, at your disposal.”

Your gaze narrows on his profile. Namjoon loves to offer help but when push comes to shove, it’s your side of the clan on the front lines.

“And what will your men do?” you inquire, drawing heads your way. “The entirety of their green couldn’t be seen in a desert.”

Someone down the table coughs, although they swiftly fall silent when Yoongi clears his throat. Disappointment radiates from him, turning his head.

“One’s worth to the clan isn’t measured in jade,” he says levelly. “You’d do well to remember that, in the future.”

Sitting back, you school your expression to nothing. Shame swirls in your stomach though because Yoongi is right. His sister is a stone-eye; someone unable to use or wear jade. Yejun feels nothing of jade’s effects – either positive or negative – but serves the clan in her own way. Kekon is superstitious about such things though and, when Yejun was born, rumors ran rampant it boded ill for Yoongi’s leadership. Rumors the Pillar has done his best to stamp out.

“Yes, Min-jen,” you acquiesce, inclining your head.

“My Luckbringers are reviewing financial statements of the victims,” Namjoon says, as though you haven’t spoken. “If there’s any monetary connection between them, we’ll find it.”

“My Fists are also investigating,” you add. “We’ll keep the clan updated.”

A scoff from the lower end of the table. Turning your head, you find Mr. Hu, a wealthy Lantern Man, watching you with a scowl. Middle-aged, with a portly belly from hoji, the man has never accepted you as his Horn. As the first woman bestowed the honor, you expected there to be some resistance.

Not that it endears him to you. Sweetly, you smile and lean forward. “Did you have something to add, Mr. Hu?”

Briefly, his gaze drops to the jade around your throat. Forcing a swallow, he forces his gaze to lift. You must give him credit; the man continues, despite the visual reminder you could kill him in seconds.

“Investigating what?” he asks, puffing out his chest. “I saw the second victim being brought in. There was… well. There was little to see. Tortured,” he adds, addressing the muttering around the table. “The man was mercilessly tortured before he was killed.”

Perceiving the shift in Yoongi’s emotions – edging towards fury – you hasten your response.

“Mr. Hu,” you say, lightly resting your hand on a Talon knife. “I thank you, for having the foresight to raise such an important issue.”

Frowning, he glances left and right, but his fellow Lantern Men avoid him. Likely, they understand this won’t end well. Indeed, Jungkook is already eyeing the man with barely concealed malice, thumb stroking slowly over the hilt of his sword.

“The fact that both victims were tortured,” you continue, conversational. “Almost as though the killer were looking for something.”

“Or someone,” Namjoon adds.

“Or someone,” you agree, focusing on Mr. Hu. “My men are searching the murder sites for more information now. While they do that though, are there any other details of an active murder investigation you’d like to know? Perhaps whether the victims pissed themselves before death, or left money behind?”

Paling, Mr. Hu seems to realize how this sounds. “N-no,” he says. “Thank you for sharing what you have, Horn-jen.”

Ignoring him, you glance in the direction of Yoongi. “We’ll find the traitor. I swear it.”

His aura flares, full of emotion unrelated to the conversation at hand. “Of that, I have no doubt,” Yoongi says lowly.

Heat floods your face, sensing his intent and swiftly, you look away before others can notice.

“While the Horn and Weather Man conduct their investigations, I ask for everyone to remain on high alert,” Yoongi says, surveying the table. “No Peak will increase Green Bone presence in the border districts. If you see anything of interest, contact the clan.”

Several Lantern Men relax at the mention of Green Bones. You know business has been hard as of late, with so many customers shaken by the violence. Hopefully, this will convince the people No Peak has the situation in hand. Otherwise, why would the Lantern Men continue to pay for your protection?

Glancing at the bloody photographs laid out on the table, you can hardly blame them for their skittishness. Whoever killed these two victims was skilled. Their torture tactics are pristine, better than most graduates from the Academy. A skill you also possess, although you choose not to use it outside of last resorts. Even then –

Your fingers cease tapping against your leather jacket. Straightening, you realize the skill displayed is exactly that of the Academy. The cuts, the angle of the blade and depth of the wounds – all of it, textbook. A Green Bone did this, you’re certain.

Sharply, you glance up and allow your distress to show. Voicing your suspicion aloud would only end badly. Above all, the Pillar must appear in control. If a Green Bone – even a disgraced one – is murdering citizens of No Peak, it would be a disaster. Better to discuss your suspicions in private before airing them to the entire group.

Perceiving the shift in your emotions, Yoongi stiffens. “We’ll update you with any new information,” he says, dismissal clear in his tone. “Thank you for coming.”

Chair legs scrape floorboards, patrons filing out as they murmur to one another. Asha, your First Fist, hovers by the door until you give a discreet shake of your head. Nodding, she slips out and you see Jungkook follow.

To one side, Yoongi converses tersely with his Pillarman, Hoseok, until Hoseok exhales and swiftly exits the room. Kim Namjoon stays, drinking a glass of water at the opposite end of the table. Once you three are alone, Yoongi holds up his hand. He waits, utterly still until the last jade aura fades.

Only then does he turn. “Well, Y/N?” he drawls. “What did you realize?”

Not wasting time, you pluck a photograph from the pile and toss it before him. “These cuts,” you explain. “They were made by a moon blade. So precise – so even. Exactly the length taught at the Academy. Which means–”

“Shit,” Namjoon mutters. He sets down his glass. “We’re fucked.”

You give him a look. “Precisely.”

Yoongi frowns, his distaste palpable. “This is the work of a Green Bone.”

“I think so.”

Pushing his chair back to stand, Namjoon grabs a photo and turns it sideways. “Why would a Green Bone go after a Lantern Man, though?” he wonders out loud. “He wasn’t even wearing jade when he died – it’s against aisho.”

Yoongi’s lips press tightly together.

Aisho refers to the strict code of honor governing all who wear jade. There are many tenets, but first and foremost is that those who wear jade don’t harm the jadeless. Aisho also limits retaliation following honorable duels, ensuring the clan lines remain intact.

A Green Bone who follows aisho would never attack a citizen.

Which forces you to draw an unsavory conclusion. “Unless they didn’t care,” you say, voicing the worst possibility. “The killer could have been trained as a Green Bone and left.” Stiffening slightly, you glance at Yoongi. “You don’t think…”

“I do,” Yoongi mutters. His jaw clenches, then unclenches. “Maro.”

Namjoon swears softly.

Maro – known to most as Toh Marosun – is a traitor to No Peak. He grew up in the same circle as Namjoon, Yoongi, and other high-ranking Green Bones. Maro attended the Academy in the same class as Yoongi, and everyone expected him to become the Horn. Brilliant, swift, and vicious in battle – not to mention one of Yoongi’s closest friends.

Despite this fact, you never liked him. Having grown up the only daughter of an unremarkable Lantern Man, you experienced Maro the way most people did. Toh Marosun was cruel. Saccharine, willing to say whatever people in power wanted to hear. Maro knew exactly what to do, what to say to manipulate followers. From the beginning, you saw Maro for who he was – a bully.

He joined No Peak’s ranks as a Finger, but swiftly rose to prominence. By the time you graduated, Maro was the youngest Fist in No Peak’s history. What he lacked in jade tolerance he made up for in cunning. Maro was always more sensitive to jade, but he was also smart. Talented, with the skills he did have.

In Green Bone society, there are two ways to gain jade – gifted or earned. Green Bones win jade through physical duels, taking the green from those they defeat. Recklessly, Maro began to challenge rival clans and often, he won despite not being able to wear his spoils. He displayed his jade often, which you suppose should’ve been the first warning sign.

Maro cared too much for personal glory. In Kekon, glory is achieved through the clan. Even the Horn and the Weather Man only exist to further No Peak’s prowess. The Pillar themselves is the embodiment of the clan, not their own person.

Even now, you recall the day Maro’s crimes were exposed.

Seven years prior, you were a Finger on routine patrol when Sain, your Fist, was commanded to return to the Min property. He brought you along, stationed by the front gate to ensure no one left.

You guarded with another Finger, one whose name you don’t recall. What you do remember is the utter stillness of the day, the unnatural calm which comes before a storm. The sun was bright overhead, a thick bead of sweat sliding down your neck when the door behind you at the main house banged open.

A man tumbled down the steps, landing in a heap in the billowing dirt. Coughing, he struggled to right himself, but both his hands were bound. From your spot at the gate, you couldn’t see clearly but you scented his blood. Heard the bruised rasp of his breath.

Yoongi prowled down the front steps, his famed Da Tanori steel glinting in his right hand. His gaze never wavered from the man bound before him – Toh Marosun, his former friend.

“Do you deny it?” Yoongi asked, his voice soft but deadly. Despite this, you Perceived conflicting emotions within.

Toh Maro stayed silent. Eventually, he exhaled.

“No,” he said sullenly.

Unable to stop it, you turned and saw Maro staring unflinchingly up at the Pillar. Yoongi stood over him, his lips a thin line of displeasure. You didn’t know what had happened but feared the worst from Yoongi’s expression.

In that moment, you didn’t envy the Pillar. Yoongi had become head of No Peak only a year prior; in many ways, he was as untried as you were. He was a silent, intelligent man and many people thought they could take advantage of him.

They were wrong, of course, but it would take time to prove that.

On that day though, you felt the dull grief to his aura. “Then I am sorry,” Yoongi said quietly. “For you leave me with no choice. Toh Marosun, you stand accused of smuggling jade from No Peak – one of the worst crimes a Green Bone can commit.”

The entirety of your blood drained as you turned around.

Spine steeling, you gripped your knives tighter. There were few crimes so awful they couldn’t be forgiven, but stealing from the clan was one of them. Cutting off Maro’s ear would be too light a punishment, especially with Yoongi so untried a Pillar. Death would be acceptable. Expected, even.

It would be the Pillar’s call – the clans weren’t run as a democracy. Straining Perception, you listened closely behind you. Although you’d interacted little with the Pillar, the man behind the mask couldn’t help but intrigue you.

Broken sobs filled the clearing, and you heard the sudden thud of knees hitting the grass. No jade aura accompanied the sound.

“Yoongi, please,” gasped a voice – feminine, young. “Brother, please spare him. Don’t kill him, he –”

“Silence.” Yoongi’s voice echoed over the courtyard. The newcomer obeyed with a lone, stifled sob. “You’ve been found innocent, sister,” he said, sounding weary. “But that does not make you innocent.”

The threat of his words hung overhead and although Yejun continued to sniffle, the sound of it muffled. When you glanced sideways again, you saw her face in her palms.

Yoongi watched dispassionately, although you sensed his inner turmoil. Rumors had reached your ears by then that Maro was dating Yejun. It seemed to be true, based on the way she pleaded.

Returning to face the gate, the yard remained silent until Yoongi exhaled. “Toh Marosun,” he declared, his sword sheathing. “From this day on, you are banished from Kekon. Return your jade to the clan and go. If you return to Janloon, your life is forfeit. Take him,” he said, speaking to someone you couldn’t see.

You didn’t dare turn, but tugged your knives a half-inch from their sheathes. If Maro decided to fight, you’d be expected to protect the Pillar. For whatever reason – disbelief, or respect – Maro didn’t attack, and no violence took place. He left in the waiting car, but you’ll never forget the look on his face when he passed.

Despite your young age, you recognized the glint in his eye. Fury, tempered by disbelief. He’ll be back, you thought grimly. It was only a matter of time before someone like Maro declared vengeance.

Your gaze slid to Yoongi, wondering if he felt the same. He watched Maro leave, his expression carefully neutral before he turned around and entered the house. Yejun had already disappeared, likely leaving upon Maro’s banishment.

The expression on Yoongi’s face now is similar, staring down at the photograph. Another moment passes before you realize something else.

“They knew each other,” you say, glancing between the victims. Reaching out, your hand lightly touches a photo. “Icho Retubin. He worked for the Weather Man after the Academy. And this man here” – you touch the other – “Niru Roluan. A low-ranking Finger who quit after a year.”

“He was friendly with Marosun,” Namjoon recalls.

“Yes.” Eyes wide, you look up. “After Maro’s scheme was uncovered, both of them quit and began working as Lantern Men.”

“Interesting,” Yoongi muses. “So. Toh Marosun returns. He tortures and kills his former friends – why?” he murmurs, speaking more to himself than either of you.

Brow lowering, you search for the easy answer. “He’s torturing them for something,” you say, glancing at the wounds. “Information, maybe.”

Yoongi tilts his head. “Which begs the question – has Maro found what he wants, or is he still looking?”

“Does it matter?”

Namjoon shrugs at your question. “If Maro hasn’t found what he wants, he’ll strike again. If he did find it – well. We might be out of time.”

Yoongi considers. “He didn’t find it,” he says, turning around to stride for the door. “Call it a gut feeling.”

Your gaze narrows on his backside. “Let’s call it more than that.”

Yoongi turns around, lips twitching in a smile only you see. “I can think of two reasons Maro might return. One – jade.” The Pillar lifts a finger. “Or, two – revenge.” His second lifts.

You and Namjoon exchange a look. “Maro could find jade on the Shotarian black market if he wanted,” you say.

“Exactly.” Yoongi drops his hand. “Which is why I’m inclined to call this revenge.”

“Maro could want revenge on anyone, though,” Namjoon points out. “Most likely whoever sold him out in the first place.”

“Well, that makes this easier.” Casual, Yoongi tucks both hands in his pockets. “I sold him out. I discovered details of his jade smuggling in Yejun’s apartment.”

“Yejun?” Sharply, you look at him. “Your sister knew?”

Yoongi’s gaze hardens. “Yes, she knew,” he says. “I’m sure you understand why I kept that piece of information to myself until now. Yejun wasn’t involved with the smuggling, but she knew it was happening… and didn’t tell me,” he adds, his voice grim.

Mind reeling, you attempt to digest this piece of information. Betrayal lodges deep in your gut, although you do your best to dispel it. It’s pointless to expect Yoongi to tell you everything – especially events which occurred before you became the Horn.

Namjoon also looks troubled. “That’s… but that means–”

“Careful what you say, Namjoon.” Although his tone remains soft, Yoongi’s body tenses. “The matter is done. I punished Yejun as I saw fit, within my right as Pillar. Trust me,” he adds, his façade cracking a little. “Her deception was dealt with.”

Silently, you wonder if this is why Yejun studied in Espenia. As a stone-eye, she can’t serve the clan as a Green Bone, but could have taken other paths. She could have become a Luckbringer on Namjoon’s side or begun a career in government. Instead, Yejun left Janloon for a foreign University. It was only recently she returned to start her residency at Jan Royal University.

Curious, your gaze flicks to Yoongi. If what he says is true, then surely, he knows Maro is coming for him. Yejun might not have betrayed him, but Min Yoongi did. It’s only a matter of time before Maro discovers what happened.

Blood simmering, you do your best to hide your frustration. Your role as Horn would be much easier if the Pillar would be honest about all his enemies. Suppressing your scowl, you ignore the heat of Yoongi’s gaze on the side of your face.

“Namjoon,” he says, turning away. “I want a list of potential targets. People Maro has worked with in the past or knew at the Academy. Assuming he doesn’t have the information he wants, Maro will strike again.”

“On it,” Namjoon says, already heading for the door.

Although faint, you can feel the cool brush of his aura passing. You envy the Weather Man’s ability to ingest information and remove partiality. Even after something like Yejun’s betrayal, he remains unflappable. Namjoon simply absorbs and executes, doing what needs to be done.

Left alone with your thinking, you can’t claim the same. Namjoon’s jade aura fades when he exits, footsteps receding to leave you alone with the Pillar.

You refuse to look at him, casting your Perception outward. A Green Bone with as much jade as you have can Perceive a beetle crawling through the tall grass outside. Feel the rumble of cars on the distant streets. Hear Yoongi’s heart beat from across the room.

Wearing jade results in a dizzying expansion of knowledge. You’re used to it by now – years of training and genetics lessen the risk of being overwhelmed. Without either, it’s all too easy to lose control.

It’s one of the reasons jade-smuggling is a serious crime. The other being that jade is the main source of income funding the clans. Selling jade through non-regulated channels increases the risk of it falling into the wrong hands. Hands which could bring negative consequences to other people or themselves.

Aisho outlines a strict Green Bone code of honor. It states Kekon first, clan first, family first. Occasionally, all three are tied and occasionally, one outstrips the other. Maro disobeyed every rule by selling jade to the Shotarians.

Maro knew all this and chose to continue, blinded by greed. He placed his personal glory above that of the clan, something which must be dealt with. To a lesser degree, Yejun chose Maro over No Peak, as well – which is why you’re surprised Yoongi said nothing.

“Y/N.”

Yoongi speaks your name softly, forgoing your title.

Stiffening, you force yourself not to turn. “Don’t call me that.”

“What?” he asks, his voice moving closer. “Your name?”

Hand brushing your elbow, Yoongi turns you to face him. Against all better judgement, you obey – and find your first mistake. Meeting his gaze, a ripple of familiarity – of home, a voice whispers – goes through you.

Shutting all this down, you lift your chin. “You lied to me.”

Yoongi’s expression flattens. “I couldn’t explain.”

“You could have. You chose not to.”

“I couldn’t,” he insists. “I’m still not sure I didn’t make a mistake. I showed mercy, Y/N.” Yoongi pauses, then swallows. “I exiled my friend and sent my sister away – and now, look what’s happened. Two men have been killed, and it’s my fault. How could I have told you,” he adds, the words desperate, “when I knew it’d result in that look on your face?”

“I’m looking at you like this because you lied. Not because of a decision you made in the past. Mercy isn’t a weakness, Min Yoongi.”

“Some would say that it is,” he murmurs. Fleeting, his gaze drops to your lips.

Yoongi drops all restraint so his emotion, so often concealed, smears through his aura. Longing, anger and fear, mixed with worry.

White-hot electricity jumps over your skin. Seeing the normally reserved Pillar undone in your presence is a heady knowledge. Knowledge that terrifies you, even as everything in you aches to move closer.

“It’s not,” you exhale, meeting his gaze.

Something falters in his expression and Yoongi stares at you, heated. You Perceive his intent – a rough flare to his aura – a moment before Yoongi bends and crushes your mouth to his. His kiss is thorough, intent, his body curving with yours while walking you towards the wall.

You instantly cave, unable to withstand the desperate sweep of his tongue. “Yoongi,” you groan, fingers gripping him tighter. “People will hear.”

“Let them,” he says, his voice undeterred.

Before you can respond, his lips fall upon yours with increasing urgency. Hand slipping beneath your jacket, Yoongi cups your waist to pull you taut against him. Eyes falling shut, you swiftly scan the building for lingering Green Bones. Finding no one, you return your attention to Yoongi and bite down on his lip.

He growls, grip tightening when you tug him towards you. Breaking away, Yoongi lowers his head to suck the curve of your throat. He lingers at your jade, tongue darting out to lick the skin underneath. Your entire body shudders, aroused by the sensation.

Touching another person’s jade is intimate. Most wouldn’t allow their own family the honor, let alone someone they sleep with. Skin contact with jade imbues power, and the swift rise and fall of it can be dangerous. Only Yoongi is brave – or foolish – enough to risk the effects.

Spine on the wall, you inhale at the rush. Yoongi’s length presses against your core, already hard through the confines of his pants. It seems unfathomable that this man, a stranger to you for so long, can inspire such potent emotion.

When you first met him, you were ten, and he was fourteen. You didn’t know who Yoongi was at the time – a fact which now seems unthinkable. Raised in southern Kekon, you came to Janloon after your mother’s death with little understanding of clan politics. Likely, you would have remained so if your high jade tolerance hadn’t pushed your father to enroll you at the Academy.

Walking through the gates that first day, you found nothing but apathy. The best-case scenario was your classmates left you alone. Worst-case, the other children were brutal. You attended school with the sons and daughters of high-ranking clan members. Although your father joined No Peak as a Lantern Man eventually, he could hardly be called successful. The Academy had no patience for a rural girl whose jade tolerance far outstripped their own.

It wore on your classmates’ pride when the teachers praised you. You began to get noticed, and not in a good way. Fed up with your presence, one of the students attacked you at the end of your first year. Even then, you knew how to defend yourself and flipped him on his back. Stunned, he stared up at you before yelling to anyone within earshot that you’d regret this. His father was a powerful Lantern Man of No Peak and he said you’d be banished before graduation.

Fear gripped you, sensing the truth to his words. Based on your own experience, you knew No Peak wouldn’t believe you over one of their own.

Despair filled your thoughts as someone entered the corridor. Your attacker instantly froze, which should have clued you in this was someone important. Still, you refused to look, reticent to turn your back on an opponent.

The newcomer cleared their throat, further stoking your ire. After a moment, you dragged your attention to them.

Min Yoongi stared back, his expression mild. “So,” he said. “Who can tell me what happened?”

Looking him up and down, you chose not to respond. You didn’t trust a stranger – a fourth year at that – to intervene on your behalf. Most likely, Yoongi was a member of No Peak and had only arrived to harass you further.

Seeing your hesitance, your attacker jumped in. He accused you of treachery, saying you jumped him in the corridor and threw him on the ground. Silent, your fingers curled into fists, but you remained quiet, even when Yoongi turned.

“Well?” he asked you. “Is that right?”

Your lips dropped into a scowl. “He deserved what he got.”

Subtle, his brow flicked upward.

To your dismay, you saw people had gathered as whispers broke out. A sinking suspicion occurred to you that something was wrong. Not with your attacker, but whoever this was.

Yoongi stared at you for a long moment before, to your surprise, he chuckled. “I agree.” Turning to face the boy, a dangerous light entered his eye. “I’d suggest not telling your father what happened, Heike. Because then, I might feel honor-bound to confess what I saw. Which was his son ruthlessly attack a first year, lose and then lie about it to his future Pillar.”

Color bled swiftly from Heike’s skin. “Yes, Min-jen,” he whispered, head bowed in shame.

Panic-stricken, you stared as realization sunk in you’d been flippant to the future Pillar. Steeling yourself, you waited for Min Yoongi’s response – likely anger or worse. Based on your experience, most men in power liked this fact to be known.

Instead, Yoongi merely turned and looked you up and down. His gaze traveled you slowly, unreadable in his scrutiny. At last, he glanced up.

“Your father owns the tea shop by the docks, yes?” he said, waiting for you to nod before he continued. “He joined No Peak as a Lantern Man last year.”

“Yes, he did.”

His lips twitched. “Well, then,” Yoongi said as he turned away. “I can’t help but be grateful he chose No Peak to patron. It would’ve been shame to lose you to another clan.”

Stricken, you watched as he strode from the courtyard. Minutes passed, and eventually you realized the crowd had dispersed. Heike skulked off to nurse his wounds and the future Pillar had gone, giving them no reason to stay.

If you weren’t loyal to No Peak before, you certainly were after. Yoongi had that type of effect on people.

After that day though, you rarely interacted. Yoongi was four years your senior and the future Pillar, while you were nobody. Albeit a talented nobody who graduated at the top of their class from the Academy. At your graduation, people whispered you’d make a strong Fist. No one ever imagined you’d rise higher than that.

You joined No Peak as a Finger, starting from the bottom. Yoongi continued to remain out of reach, the newly named Pillar struggling to earn his own title. It didn’t take long though, before you rose in the ranks. You spent two years as a Finger, then two as a Fist – you were twenty-two years old when promoted to Horn. The youngest in history, and a woman to boot.

Yoongi was adamant in the choice, defending you calmly to the entire clan. He said he’d rather have the right person at a young age than the wrong person at the right age. His support was the only reason you didn’t strangle him that first year. It was the beginning of working together and as it turned out, Yoongi drove you mad.

He micromanaged, overseeing all decisions to ensure No Peak ran smoothly. You two bickered often, the fire eventually dissipating to begrudging acceptance. Ultimately, you realized you saw the world the same – No Peak first, followed by everything else.

Back then, Yoongi dated but none of them stuck. No one understood the sacrifice necessary to remain head of No Peak. Couldn’t comprehend the ruthlessness, the dedication it took to lead the clan. Yoongi could never let his guard down, could never relax with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

You understood, though, because you shared this burden. Yoongi could be honest with you in a way he couldn’t be elsewhere. To the rest of the clan, he was the infallible Pillar, but to you, he was only a man.

Proof of said manhood hardens against your thigh, and Yoongi’s lips curve gamely at the base of your throat. Head lifting, his smile is sharp enough to carve the remaining bit of your heart.

“You left early this morning,” he observes, his gaze dimming. “Why?”

Your eyes trace his lips before lifting to his face. “Hian called in sick, so I replaced his watch. My Fists are spread thin, Yoongi.”

A wrinkle forms between his brows. “You should’ve woken me.”

“Why?” you tease, your hand sliding lower to rest above his hip. “To watch me go? You needed your sleep.”

“I needed you more.”

Yoongi’s words still your fingertips, struck by his honesty. Min Yoongi is nothing if not blunt, leaving you often speechless. What began as just sex, mounting frustration between friends, has become something almost too tenuous to name. The idea of having him scares you nearly as much as the prospect of losing him.

“You had me last night,” you murmur.

Yoongi’s fingers drift across your cheek. “And yet,” he says, unwilling to let you off the hook. “I woke up ravenous.”

Multiple meanings layer his words, some of which you purposefully choose not to hear. Instead, you glance past him to search the grounds. Several Green Bones cross the lawn, none of them close enough to overhear. Still, it reminds you of what’s at stake.

Exhaling gently, you pull from his touch. “I should go,” you tell him.

Head tilted, Yoongi’s dark hair conceals the jade in his brow. His brow wrinkles when he Perceives your tumultuous emotions.

“You’re worried,” he says.

“Of course, I am,” you say with a frustrated laugh. “I’m your Horn, Yoongi. It’s my job to protect the clan – to protect you – and right now, it feels like I’m failing.”

His gaze on you sharpens. “First off, I can protect myself. Second – it’s my job as Pillar to protect the clan. How can you protect us from something I can’t see?”

“How many times do I have to say you don’t shoulder that burden alone?”

The lines around his mouth deepen. “In good times, I’m lauded. It only follows that in bad times, I’m the one at fault.”

“Oh, if that’s all,” you say drily. “I, for one, have never lauded you.”

“Oh, really?” Stepping closer, his expression shifts from frustration to carnal. “I seem to recall differently last night.”

Electricity catches each place his gaze lingers, shivering its way down your spine. Refusing to let him notice, you lift your chin higher. “You’d have to remind me. It all blurs together.”

Yoongi bares his teeth, and you can’t help but smile. If there’s one thing the Pillar of No Peak can’t resist, it’s a challenge. The start of your relationship is proof enough of that.

After your promotion to Horn, you spent most waking hours by Yoongi’s side. Working with him was exhausting. Every decision turned into an argument. How many Fists you should have. How many students to admit to the Academy. Whether you should train with the Kekonese military or not.

Yoongi constantly occupied space in your thoughts, and not in a good way. He frustrated you, forcing you to second-guess and slow down your thought process. Maddeningly, he was often correct, which only served to further your irritation.

Eventually, things began to shift. Bickering turned to acceptance and finally, understanding. Yoongi trusted you more often to make the right calls and in turn, you snapped at him less for his input. Your arguments dwindled, then disappeared altogether.

Three years passed as Horn, and soon your frustration gave way to a different kind. You started to notice when Min Yoongi entered the room. At first, you brushed it off as nothing. Yoongi had an undeniable presence, this was true. Soon though, you realized your thoughts breached the border of friendship.

His absence could be felt like a phantom limb. Yoongi’s jade aura comforted you despite its fierceness – so at odds with the calm way he carried himself.

Idly, you wondered what it would take for him to snap. To release his infamous self-control and fully give in. Thoughts of what Yoongi would feel like left your body scorched. On more than one occasion, you awoke with an ache between your legs and a dream of his face slipping away.

Such thoughts though, were dangerous. Yoongi was the Pillar, and you were his Horn – a relationship couldn’t happen and what’s more, he’d shown no interest. You began to withdraw out of self-preservation. Prior, you sparred with Yoongi every morning but soon found yourself making excuses to skip.

What was once daily practice turned into every week and then, once a month. Yoongi was a distraction you could ill-afford, disarming you with his laughter as easily as his sword.

Instead, you forced your attention on training your Fists. Firstday through Fifthday, you met Asha and Jungkook at the gym before dawn. This went on for months, training in secret until one day you exited and saw Yoongi’s car at the curb. Stomach sinking, you watched as he reversed and sped down the street.

Perceiving tumultuous emotion, you knew confrontation was inevitable but hoped Yoongi would give you time to process.

He did not.

Instead, Yoongi pounded on your door the very next morning. When you finally answered, he tossed a practice sword your way and demanded you dress.

Shaking free of your stupor, you glared at Yoongi a moment before slamming the door. Stalking inside, you threw gear in a bag and returned to the hall. Stomping past him, you refused to acknowledge Yoongi, throwing open the door to his Duchesse Priza.

Yoongi sped to his place in silence, tension churning between you like water beneath a ferry. At his gym, you stormed out and ripped the sword from its sheath. Yoongi followed closely behind, barely leashed emotion rolling off him in waves.

You flew at him first, your body Light, and then Strong while swinging towards his head. Moving through the various jade disciplines, you relied on training hammered into your bones. Yoongi caught a blow on his forearm, Steeling his skin to avoid any damage. The two of you entered a familiar rhythm, understanding the other in ways no one else could.

It must’ve been hours before you threw down your sword and declared the match ended. Yoongi simply stared, his chest heaving with a wild spark in his eyes.

You were turning to leave when he dropped his blade, strode across the clearing and crushed your mouth to his.

Five months have passed since. Your relationship has been kept a secret, with you unwilling to place any labels. People would talk if the Horn and Pillar were dating. You don’t want that for yourself. Not when you’ve worked so hard for credibility.

Pressing his thumb to your lower lip, Yoongi drags it lower before he releases. “I’ll have to remind you, then,” he says before stepping away. The heat dissipates from his gaze, leaving you cold. “But you’re right. I should go.”

Somewhat dazed, you feel yourself nod. This is what you wanted, you remind yourself. This is exactly what you asked for, so you have no right to feel abandoned.

“Send me the list Namjoon makes,” you say, forcing lightness to your tone. “I’ll send Green Bones to watch their houses.”

Yoongi opens his mouth, then seems to think better of it and merely nods. He stays silent when you leave, brushing past him to the hall. Outside, you pause on the landing before you continue.

His jade aura fades as you exit, letting you know he remains. You do your best to ignore him, flipping your keys as you stride towards your car – not as nice as Yoongi’s, but serviceable nonetheless. Yanking open the door, you slide onto the sticky-warm gray leather seat.

Exhaling, you stare at the wheel before shifting to drive. Lowering the windows, you allow a slight breeze to drift over your face. As much as you pretend to be happy with the current situation, you’re not. You aren’t stupid – you know your feelings for Yoongi extend beyond those of a Horn to their Pillar.

When you first became Horn, you respected Yoongi. He was a good leader – still is – and you were proud to be the person strengthening No Peak by his side. Now, he’s the closest thing you have to family. Deep down, you understand his pardon of Yejun. If you were in a similar situation, there’s nothing Yoongi could do that you wouldn’t forgive.

Especially now, with your father dead. It happened soon after graduation, a sudden collapse of his heart no one saw coming. Yoongi attended his funeral. It was held on a rain soaked Seventhday after the Autumn Festival. Late in the season for a deluge but fitting for the occasion. It felt like the world was wiped clean, along with your prior life.

For the Pillar to attend was unusual, but not unprecedented. You recall him standing near the back, his Pillarman, Hoseok, at his side. The funeral was short – your father wasn’t garrulous by any means – but rain soaked your dress by the time it had ended. It surprised you when Yoongi came to express his sorrow, even more so when he seemed to mean it. Most people didn’t. Most people came for the spectacle, or to say they were there.

Yoongi though, gripped your hand tightly while meeting your gaze. His calluses were as rough as your own when he said the clan would support you. Oddly enough, you believed him.

With both parents dead, and no siblings, No Peak is the only family you have. Yoongi’s life is similar to yours, apart from Yejun. His father died of cancer when he was twenty-one and his mother soon followed, unable to cope. Yoongi knows what loss means, what it feels like to be alone.

Lips tightening, you imagine what it’d feel like to lose him. Worse than a Horn should feel when they lose a Pillar. Silent, you curse yourself for having poor foresight. There’s a reason the Horn and Pillar don’t date. A reason why such a relationship would be forbidden. It’s your job to protect the clan – not just Yoongi – but if it came down to it, you’d choose him every time.

Weaving through the bustling streets of Janloon, your speed is forced to slow. Janloon, the capital city of Kekon, is full of contractions. The latest car models pass beneath flashing billboards, coupled with street stalls and sprawling temples. Scents of the city mingle with stale AC from your car.

No matter how much time passes, Kekon stubbornly clings to its roots. Portions of the outside world may infiltrate, but they’ll never replace. This is something Green Bones and the clans understand.

Traffic forces you to park a block away from your destination. Striding towards the Twice Lucky, you nod at a few Lantern Men idling outside. Asha and Jungkook wait for you in a private room, lounging in seats around the square table. The second floor of the Twice Lucky has been reserved for Green Bones; a privilege No Peak ensures is well-compensated.

Jungkook sits in his usual spot, arms crossed and feet up. Asha is restless, fingertips drumming against the hilt of her blade. Food and water are laid out, half-eaten as though there were others here before.

Sensing your presence, your first Fist looks up. “Y/N-jen.” Asha straightens. “Any news?”

Crossing the room, you scan the building but Perceive no other Green Bones. Sinking into a chair, you pull a plate closer and pick up red chopsticks.

Jungkook turns towards you. “What’d you discuss with the Pillar? Seemed important.”

Asha gives him a warning look, to which he only shrugs.

Ignoring them both, you stab a dumpling. “We suspect the killings were done by a Green Bone. Do you remember Toh Marosun?”

Asha’s head whips in your direction. Jungkook was at the Academy during Maro’s betrayal, but Asha was there and remembers how it went down. If Maro has returned, it’s only a matter of time before things get worse.

“Of course, we remember.” Her eyes narrow. “So, it’s really him? Maro came back?”

“Maybe.” You hesitate another moment, then finish the dumpling. “It’s only a guess.”

“A pretty good guess, if you’re telling us,” Jungkook muses. “Why come back now, though? Returning to Kekon is a death sentence.”

“Is it?” Asha fights a smirk. “Everyone knew Yejun had a thing for Maro.”

Casual, you retrieve a talon knife from its sheath. You begin cleaning the blade, the weapon a natural extension of your wrist, and feel Asha and Jungkook’s gazes follow.

“I don’t think that’s relevant, do you?” you say calmly. “Not unless you’re questioning the Pillar’s judgement.”

Asha looks away, miffed. “No, jen,” she mutters. “Of course, not.”

“Good.” You pause, allowing your fury to seep into your aura. “The Pillar deserves nothing less than your respect. Which means Jungkook is right – coming back here is a death sentence, begging the question of why.”

Jungkook considers. “Maybe he left something.”

Asha turns back, the moment of tension forgotten. “He could be after his jade,” she offers. “Maro was always thin-blooded, so if it’s jade he wants, this could get bad. He could come down with the Itches.”

Sheathing your knife, you look up. “I agree. Maro might not be in his right mind.”

“What should we do?”

“Nothing for now,” you tell her. “Namjoon is compiling a list of people Maro knew. If he hasn’t found what he’s after by now, he could strike again.”

Asha nods and accepts this. Pushing aside a twinge of regret, you wish you could explain the rest. If Yoongi is a target though, it’s best to keep that fact quiet. And as much as you’d like to blame the Luckbringers, you have no way of knowing who’s helping Maro – either by will or by force.

A phone rings on the lower level, barely audible over the din. The Twice Lucky restaurant doesn’t have the best food in Janloon, but the quality is good, and its owner is loyal. The same can’t be said for other places.

Footsteps pound on the staircase, and Jungkook springs to his feet. Before you can warn him, the door opens and Mr. Une, the proprietor, freezes in place.

“Put that away,” you demand, waving for Jungkook to lower his knife.

Eyes wide, Mr. Une stares while your Second Fist sheaths his weapon. Seating himself at the table, Jungkook kicks both feet up like nothing has happened. The third-highest amount of jade in the clan lies coiled about his neck, polished stones resting against his tan skin.

Mr. Une continues to stare, wary until you pointedly clear your throat. “Uncle,” you say, adopting the deferential. “What can we do for you?”

Somewhat placated, Mr. Une turns his head. “Phone call for you, Horn-jen. The Weather Man said it’s urgent. You can use the phone in my office if you’d like.”

Smile disappearing, you stand. “Lead the way.”

Mr. Une blinks, and you realize you’ve crossed the room in less time than it took Jungkook to draw his knife. Inwardly, you sigh and attempt to appear harmless. The citizens of Janloon are used to living with Green Bones but sometimes, your power is a reminder of what they are not. Of the inherent danger of living amongst latent gods.

Following Mr. Une, you head towards his office. Asha and Jungkook walk close behind, with Jungkook at the rear and Asha by your side. Mr. Une hovers awkwardly at the door before turning around and pushing into the kitchen.

Once he’s gone, you lift the phone. “Hello?” you say.

Namjoon’s voice barks in your ear. “Get back to the Min property. Now.”

Your stomach drops. “What happened?”

“Maro struck again,” he says tightly. “It’s definitely Maro – and the victim is still alive.”

“Who is it?” you ask, expecting the worst.

“Jio Reubin. He managed to escape and made it here, but he’s injured. This is our best chance to get information.”

“On my way,” you say, and hang up.

Taking a deep breath, you allow the reality of Namjoon’s words to wash over you. Jio is hurt, meaning you need to interrogate soon in case he dies. Nausea curdles your stomach, and you try to dispel it.

Guilt wars with relief from knowing Yoongi is safe. You’ve met Jio several times, having attended the Academy with his now-wife, Lula. She never took to the bloodier side of the clan, deciding to enter the medical profession instead. If you remember correctly, she’s in the same resident program as Yejun.

Leaving the office, you nod for Jungkook to follow. He falls into step beside you. “I need you to do something for me,” you say to Asha. “Head to Jio Reubin’s and search the area for Maro. Call me if you find anything.”

She nods and turns, disappearing out the side door.

You and Jungkook exit the front, squinting when you emerge in the golden hour. “Follow me to the Min property,” you say grimly.

Jungkook nods as he turns, aura pulsing with adrenaline while growing fainter. You should warn him to be cautious but know it’d be hypocritical. Your own car’s speed is nearly twice the limit as you rush through the streets of Janloon, returning to the gates of the Min property.

Screeching to a halt, you yank keys from the ignition and sprint across the courtyard. Namjoon’s aura pulses from the main house, so you follow the trail and shove open the door.

Namjoon doesn’t look up when you enter, and you immediately see why. Jio lies splayed on the sofa, right arm dangling listlessly from a red cushion. At first, you think that’s the color before you notice the blood darkening Jio’s chest.

Kneeling at his side, Namjoon’s jaw clenches while attempting to Channel. Usually, Channeling is used to rend the body apart but in certain circumstances, it can be used to hold it together. Namjoon doesn’t wear much jade though and wasn’t trained as a healer.

“Allow me,” Jungkook says from behind you.

Dropping to his knees, he replaces Namjoon to clasp Jio’s hand in his. Closing his eyes, a thick vein pulses in the side of his neck. Despite Jungkook’s wish to enter the bloodier side of the clan, he would’ve made an excellent healer. His ability to Channel is better than anyone else in No Peak.

Jio’s aura, previously guttering, gradually smooths. Namjoon sits back on his heels, clearly spent from the effort. Wiping sweat from his brow, he turns to see you.

“Close the door,” he says faintly.

Reaching out, you obey and cross to stand by his side. Staring at Jio, you take in his bloodied state. Whoever tortured him was thorough, cutting just deep enough to let him slowly bleed out.

It’s a miracle Jio escaped, no matter how slowly his chest rises and falls. When you cross your arms, he coughs and cracks open one eye. Dazedly, Jio registers your presence.

“Horn-jen,” he rasps.

Briskly, you nod. “You’re going to be fine, Jio.”

Straining Perception, you sweep the ground for Yoongi but find him far away. Good. The further he is from this carnage, the better.

Glancing back, you seek Namjoon. “What happened?”

“Maro was waiting when Jio got home from his night shift. His wife had already left for the hospital. Maro knocked out Jio, tied him up and when he came to, started torturing him for intel. Jio managed to escape but hasn’t said how. Couple of Fingers found him in the Temple District.”

Your gaze moves to Jio. “Maro escaped?”

“Yeah,” he responds.

Stomach tight, you consider the options. Either Maro is still searching for whatever he’s after, or he found out from Jio and –

From across the property comes a surge of fury. No one else seems to notice, but that doesn’t surprise you. You’re more attuned to Yoongi’s aura than anyone present. Keeping your expression neutral, you know you don’t have much time until Yoongi arrives.

“What did he want to know?” you demand. “Did he –”

The door to the room flies open and hits the wall. The Pillar strides in, adjusting his cuffs as he goes. Yoongi’s dark hair is slicked, clothing immaculate as always. Heat curls in your lower belly, and you do your best to stamp it out.

His gaze flicks towards you, sensing your need before his expression shutters. Facing forward, Yoongi surveys the scene.

“What happened?” he asks, low and deadly.

His Pillarman steps inside and shuts the door. Hoseok leans to the wall, jacket falling open to reveal the handle of his Sig Sauer. It’s odd for a Green Bone to carry a gun but Hoseok’s job is to protect Yoongi from all threats. Although Green Bone warriors render bullets obsolete through Steeling, there are other threats best deterred by firepower.

On the couch, Jio coughs and attempts to sit up. Grunting, Jungkook grabs his shoulder and forces him down.

“Don’t be an idiot,” you say to Jio. “The doctor is coming, but if you die before they get here, you’ll be no help to anyone.”

“Are you sure it was Maro?” Yoongi asks, tension radiating from every line in his body. Even if you couldn’t Perceive him, you’d know.

Weakly, Jio nods. “It was Maro. Looks different now – leaner and wearing new jade. Scabs up and down his arms. But yeah, it was him.”

You and Namjoon exchange a look. Arm scabs could be a sign of the Itches, an illness caused by jade overexposure. Jade overexposure can happen gradually, or it could be caused by a single instance. For example, if someone were to go without jade for years and then put a lot on.

Green Bones are taught the symptoms from a young age. Severe mood swings, sensory distortion – shaking, sweating, anxiety, paranoia, and heart palpitations. When left untreated, the Itches can lead to madness and eventually, death. Better soldiers than Maro have succumbed to it, the lure of more jade greater than self-control.

The possibility flashes before you – Maro, unable to stomach being cut off from Kekon. He seeks out new jade, expecting to stomach as much as he used to. Instead, Maro breaks, paranoia and fear dragging him under. He starts to blame others, including the clan who took everything from him. A man in such a state might consider revenge his only option.

The hypothesis fits, though it means nothing good for No Peak.

“What did he say?” Yoongi asks. “Tell us, word for word.”

“He…” Jio breaks into a coughing fit. “Knocked me out. When I woke up, I was tied to my kitchen chair. I asked Maro what the fuck he was doing.”

“And?” Namjoon prods. “What did he say?”

“Said he’d been gone for too long. That it was all a mistake – leaving, taking off his jade.”

“Is that why he came back?” you press.

Jio’s head lolls. “He asked who betrayed him. Said he only told a few people about the smuggling, so one of them must’ve done it. I didn’t know,” he rasps, shaking his head. “I wasn’t one of the people Maro told. He didn’t seem to remember – or care.”

Paranoia. Another unmistakable sign of the Itches.

“What else?” Namjoon asks. “How did you escape?”

“I don’t know.” Jio frowns, blood trickling from a cut above his eye. “Maro seemed confused. He kept asking who betrayed him, and then mentioning treasure? He wanted to know where his treasure was. I don’t even know what he meant,” he admits, glancing between you and Namjoon. “His jade? I dunno.”

“It could be,” you say slowly.

“He’d ask about his treasure one minute, then accuse it of betraying him,” Jio says. “He said he went where his treasure was, but it wasn’t there. Or they weren’t there? He kept mixing up tenses. Wasn’t sure he knew where he was, half the time.”

Off to the side, you feel a sudden surge of emotion – there and gone before you can dissect. Startled, you glance in the direction of Yoongi but find him unharmed. Eyes narrowed, you watch a moment longer before you turn back.

“If Maro wants his old jade, maybe he meant his apartment. He could have gone there to search first,” Namjoon offers.

“A waste,” you say with a frown. “Maro forfeited his jade to the clan before leaving.”

Forfeited to the Pillar, more accurately. You glance once more at Yoongi, who doesn’t react. He continues to examine Jio, a slight wrinkle between his brows.

“All roads lead to me, it would seem. How did you escape, Jio?” Yoongi adds, casually changing the subject.

“Didn’t, really.” Jio coughs, the sound wet. “Managed to get an arm free, lunged for Maro and fell on the floor. Maro… didn’t really notice. He swore something fierce, stabbed my fridge with his knife and ran off.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “He stabbed your… fridge?”

“Yeah.”

“That makes no sense.”

“If he has the Itches, it doesn’t have to,” Namjoon murmurs.

“True,” you say.

This feels important though, in a way you can’t pinpoint. Maro didn’t have any trouble killing before – the only reason he’d leave was if he found what he wanted. Frustration gnaws at your thoughts, certain you’re missing something.

Outside, you hear someone enter the driveway. Gravel skitters beneath tires, the car coming to a stop as someone exits.

“That must be the doctor.” Yoongi turns around, seemingly lost in thought. “I’ll go let them in.”

Pulling open the door, he exits with Hoseok. You watch them leave, returning your attention to Jio.

Looking weary, Jungkook sits back on his heels. “I’ve done what I can,” he says. “Stopped most of the internal bleeding. He should live.”

The door behind you opens. “I’ll be the judge of that,” says an unfamiliar woman, striding in. Setting down a black bag, she looks around. “Anyone without medical training should leave. Now.”

Brows raised, you obey and take your leave. In the hallway, Jungkook mutters something about readying the car and disappears. You remain in the house, pacing and waiting for Yoongi’s return.

Namjoon’s eyes follow your tread. “What are you thinking?”

Shaking your head, you stop to examine a portrait of Yoongi’s father. “I don’t know,” you admit. “Something about this feels off. Why would Maro leave so abruptly?”

“He wouldn’t,” Namjoon muses. “Not unless he found what he was looking for.”

“Maybe Jio is lying. Maybe he told Maro it was Yoongi who betrayed him. If that’s so though, why wouldn’t Maro come directly here?”

“Here?” Namjoon scoffs. “It’d be suicide to attack the Pillar in his own compound. No way – Maro is smarter. If I were him, I’d set a trap. Draw the Pillar out.”

A terrible suspicion dawns as you freeze, mid-stride. This is the moment the landline rings and, crossing the hallway, you yank down the phone.

“Hello?” you answer.

Asha’s voice fills your ears. “Y/N? Is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me,” you say, turning around. “What’s wrong?”

“I have… well, I don’t know what I have.”

“What do you mean?” you press. “What’s wrong?”

Noticing your expression, Namjoon frowns and pushes himself from the wall.

“I went to Jio’s like you asked. There was no sign of Maro, so I went back to the house and… it’s strange. Maro tied Jio up in his kitchen, and there are signs of a struggle, but…”

“But what, Asha?”

She pauses. “Did Jio tell you what happened?”

“Yeah.” Your gaze flicks to Namjoon, who listens to every word. “He said Maro swore, stabbed a fridge and ran off.”

“Oh. Okay.” Asha exhales. “I was worried you’d think I’m crazy. The thing is, Maro didn’t just stab a fridge – he stabbed a photo. A person, to be exact.”

“… Who was the person he stabbed?”

Namjoon goes still, and your grip on the phone tightens. Pieces of the puzzle slide into place, leaving a picture which turns your stomach. Dread fills you, knowing what Asha will say before she says it.

“Yejun,” she says, and a loud ringing fills your ears. “She works at the same hospital as Jio’s wife, and there’s a photo of them at some ceremony. The knife… it’s straight through Yejun’s head.”

Heart pounding, you close your eyes and frantically sweep the grounds. Deep down though, you already know what you’ll find.

Yoongi is gone.

Fury boiling over, you realize this was the epiphany Yoongi had earlier. It must have something to do with the word treasure – likely a nickname between Yejun and Maro. Maro was looking for Yejun, not his jade or revenge. Or maybe it is revenge – stomach sinking, you realize what this must seem like. Maro told Yejun about his operation and soon after, Yoongi found out.

Maro wants Yejun, which is something you should’ve seen from the beginning. Yoongi realized before you and now, he’s run off to play hero.

“Stay here,” you say, turning to Namjoon. Feverish anger burns your blood. “Get Jio to the hospital once he’s stable. Thanks, Asha,” you say before hanging up.

Namjoon’s eyes narrow. “Yoongi went after Yejun, didn’t he?”

“Maybe,” you say, pushing past. “If he did, I’ll find him.”

You don’t remember reaching your car, only that once you do, you drive faster than you ever have through Janloon. The hospital is a logical starting point since that’s what Maro saw from the photo.

Shutting down your thoughts, you continue to weave through traffic. Thinking begets worry, which can lead to mistakes. Tightening your grip, you push the car faster. Roaring down the next street, you recall Yejun is working early shifts this week. She mentioned it the other day, saying how glad she was to be home in time for dinner.

Glancing at the clock, your jaw tightens. After a moment’s hesitation, you make a sharp turn, car skidding a little on the next street. If Yejun is already home, better to first check that she’s safe.

Yoongi’s sister lives near the hospital, an allowance granted with the understanding that your men keep tabs. While it’s unlikely Maro knows her home address, he could have followed her there from the hospital.

Parking swiftly, you leap from the car and sprint inside. Someone on the street protests, all bravado disappearing when they notice your jade. You skid to a stop in the lobby, zeroing in on the doorman.

“Floor ten,” you say flatly.

Open-mouthed, the man stares. When you start to move forward, he snaps to attention. “Elevator is out,” he blurts. “You’ll have to take the stairs, like the rest.”

The rest.

Teeth gritted, you pivot and take the steps three at a time. The climb upward is steep, and you use a burst of Strength to reach the top. Shoving open the door to floor ten, you come to a sudden halt.

Chaos greets you.

The hall before you is narrow, barely two meters in width. Yoongi and Maro face each other midway, moon blades drawn and locked in combat. Lunging, Maro’s blade slices Yoongi’s shoulder and blood splatters the floor. Hissing, Yoongi doubles his Strength to kick Maro in the chest, sending him flying.

Maro slams into a window, glass raining around him. Rolling Light, Maro jumps to face Yoongi, unscathed. Stomach sinking, you notice the amount of jade Maro carries. More than he ever had while part of the clan. Clearly, Maro is past the point of caring about things like the Itches.

His aura feels wrong where it touches yours, jagged and pulsing. Leaping and whirling with unknown motive, withdrawing to expand in nonsensical patterns.

Face contorted, Maro unleashes a series of blows which nearly has Yoongi buckling. Clearly, Maro has continued training in exile. He looks similar and yet different – his hair longer, beard unkempt to hide the scar on his cheek. His body is lean, that of a wild wolf after winter who fights more desperately because of it.

Steeling himself, you feel Yoongi pull his aura inward, readying for the next blow. Maro slips beneath Yoongi’s blade and slashes – and Yoongi releases, Channeling his energy outward in a deadly wave. The invisible strike hits Maro dead-on, making him stumble.

Gaze bright, Maro’s head whips upward. Sensing murderous intent, a growl slips from your throat as you rush in. Swifter than breath, you wrench knives from your belt, thrusting them upward to catch Maro’s blade.

He shudders to a halt, teeth bared in your face.

Yoongi skids to a stop beside you, disbelief warring with his panic.

“GO!” you yell, glancing at Yejun’s door. “Now!”

Yoongi hesitates before nodding, lowering his sword to dart inside. Maro seethes when he escapes, shoving with all his weight to send you backwards. Dropping into a crouch, you brace yourself with one hand and kick outward. Maro leaps to avoid the blow, landing Light with a fierce glint in his eye.

Bright studs of jade – some red and oozing – dot his chest, clearly done in haste. Maro doesn’t seem to feel pain as he walks towards you.

“You?” he taunts, half-laughing. “You’d barely graduated when I was chosen for Horn. Must be nice,” he muses. “A reward for fucking the boss.”

Biting your lower lip, you hold back your retort. When you do this, Maro smiles, lips pulled from his teeth.

Before he can speak, you lunge forward and Channel. Energy jabs Maro’s chest – enough to stun, but not kill. Grunting, Maro’s smile disappears as he Deflects. Bringing his sword down overhead, he leaves no room to dodge. Swiftly, you Steel and hope for the best.

Maro’s blade slams against skin, though he fails to draw blood. Springing forward, you strike hard enough to rend his shirt’s fabric. Pulling back, Maro seethes.

Your next series of blows are fueled by Strength, fast enough to elude normal vision. You rely on muscle memory and Perception, countering each of Maro’s strokes with your own. He’s not as fast as you are, but his additional jade gives him an edge.

His next Channel is clumsy but strong, enough to leave you winded and miss his next blow. You don’t Steel in time, his blade catching your jacket to cut your torso. Hissing, you stumble and press a hand to the wound.

The cut feels shallow but stings, nonetheless. Fury building, you hone your Perception to a narrow cone. Maro’s aura ebbs and flows, erratically bursting as he walks towards you.

“I don’t know why you’re bothering to fight,” he says, adjusting his grip on his sword. “If anything, you should join me, Y/N – I’m your future.”

Refusing to let him continue, you rush forward and exchange a flurry of blows that end in a stalemate.

Panting, Maro withdraws. “You have to understand I loved her,” he hisses. “I loved her, and she betrayed me. She deserves to die.”

“Who did?” you ask, although you already know.

Behind Maro, you see Yoongi rush from Yejun’s apartment. He holds her, unconscious, Yejun’s aura silent without jade ability. Fervent, you wish you could gauge her vitality. As it is, all you can do is buy them time to get help.

Sinking into a crouch, you draw Maro’s gaze.

“Yejun?” you prod.

“Yes,” Maro breathes, his gaze bright. “I trusted her, and she turned me in. Do you know what I thought about every day while in Shotar? Her. Do you know what she thought about? The clan,” he spits. “He’ll betray you, too, in the end – you’ll see. Killing them both now would be a mercy.”

“Yejun didn’t betray you,” you say to buy time. “She wasn’t the one who told Yoongi – he found out on his own.”

Maro blinks, his surprise evident for a moment before vanishing under fury. “That’s just as bad,” he snaps, his voice rising. “Yoongi and I were like brothers. Under aisho, doesn’t family come first?”

“Even family is bound by honor,” you say grimly. “Should I ever be disloyal to my brother, may I die by the blade,” you add, reciting the Green Bone oaths. “I won’t join you, Toh Marosun. Take me by force if you must.”

His nostrils flare but before he can act, you rush in. Dimly, you register Yoongi’s retreating aura and hope he’s managed to escape the building. Lightness and Strength blur as you move, Maro’s Deflection flung hastily forward.

You keep your blows unpredictable, swift enough that Maro struggles. Rage cloaks your intention as you whirl and slice in erratic patterns. Sweat beads on Maro’s forehead, Steeling wrongly for your knives to draw blood.

Sensing victory, you push harder. Gathering his energy inward, Maro lashes out suddenly in a Channel you barely Deflect. Energy rips through you, searing your bones in a silent attack. Wincing, you leap back and Channel a blow. Maro stumbles, barely shielding and you recognize a flaw.

There are few Green Bones in Shotar, which must make it difficult for him to practice Deflection. Pressing the advantage, you move forward in a quick flurry of blows. Although Maro’s sword is larger, your knives gain the advantage in the small space. He can’t move when you duck underneath, stabbing upward to pierce his soft underarm.

Howling, Maro whirls and swings at you rashly. Leaning backwards, you Steel and catch the blow on your forearm. Vibrations clang through you, rattling the teeth in your skull. The two of you lock together, Maro’s energy clashing with yours. When he doubles his Strength, you feel your Steel buckle.

Lips split in a grin, Maro keeps his sword steady. Further increasing his Strength, he’s focused on winning he doesn’t notice the shift in your aura.

Dropping your Steel, you draw everything inward and let his sword slice your arm. Maro’s laugh is manic – until you Channel outward. The last of your energy shatters his Deflection, piercing inner organs with deadly precision. You feel the moment Maro’s heart stops, his arteries rupturing from the inside out.

Forgoing any mercy, your knife slashes his throat in a clean line.

Blood mists from the wound, coating the wall behind you in red. With a gurgled gasp, Maro lifts a hand – only to go limp and fall, face-first on the floor.

Silence descends, broken only by your ragged breathing. Not far off, sirens wail, and you sense Green Bone auras closing in on the building. Eyes closed, you force yourself to breathe in and out.

No matter how often you do it, killing another person never gets easier. Even when necessary. Even when said person threatens your life and others. You fortify yourself with the knowledge that Yoongi is safe, and Yejun will live – she has to.

The cost to your soul is too high for anything else.

“Is he dead?” asks someone behind you.

Swiftly, you turn as you open your eyes. You were so focused inward, you failed to notice Yoongi’s aura approach. The Pillar’s gaze snags, stopping on the man before you.

“Yes,” you say, bending to clean your knives. Heart hammering, you wonder what Yoongi feels at seeing his former friend dead. Wonder if he’ll blame you, as Maro said.

Setting your jaw, you sheath both your knives before standing. Immediately, you see you needn’t have worried. Yoongi isn’t looking at Maro, but at you. A lone muscle tics in his jaw, observing the crimson blood staining your clothes.

“The police are on their way. They’ll clean up the scene. You’re hurt,” Yoongi adds, his voice thick.

You glance down at your arm. “It’s nothing.”

Bending again, you begin to gather Maro’s jade. You’ll be expected to wear it the next time you’re in public, but right now, the touch of it is nearly overwhelming. Minor wounds and injuries pulse with each movement, already healing from your current jade.

“I’ll take it.” Yoongi suddenly is beside you, right hand extended. “Let me help.”

Relinquishing some of the jade piercings, you slide the rest in your pockets and push yourself to stand. Turning to face him, you stride down the hall. A roiling ball of emotion settles deep in your gut.

Worry about Yejun. Fury at Yoongi’s lies. Relief, that he’s here and unharmed.

Entering the stairwell, the door hits the wall with a satisfying thud. Yoongi follows closely, wisely choosing to remain silent. Two stories lower, you find the words to speak.

“Is Yejun okay?” you ask.

You feel Yoongi’s gaze on the back of your neck. “She’ll live,” he says, sounding weary. “I left her at the hospital with Namjoon and Jiro. She has a concussion. Maro got here a few minutes before I did and had already roughed her up.”

Something about this snaps the hold on your fragile self-control. Picturing what might have happened had you arrived a few seconds later, you whirl around and grasp Yoongi by his suit jacket.

“Never,” you blurt, yanking him closer. “Never do that to me again.”

Gaze burning, you stare him down and Yoongi watches warily. He doesn’t move an inch, allowing you to manhandle him. “I know that you’re angry,” he says carefully.

With a harsh laugh, you release him. “Of course, I am! You shouldn’t have come here alone.”

“I know that.”

“Well?” you demand after a long moment passes. “Aren’t you going to apologize?”

Yoongi lifts a brow. “I’d do it again.”

You stare at him, aghast. “Well, then.” You pause. Shake your head. “If that’s all you have to say, I think this night is over.”

Wiping your palms on your pants, you turn away. You only make it one flight before Yoongi’s hand finds your elbow.

Spinning you towards him, Yoongi pulls you closer. You manage to avoid eye contact until his fingers slip beneath your chin, making you face him.

“I know you want me to apologize, but I won’t,” he says lowly. “I refuse to apologize for trying to keep you from danger.”

Most people would swoon, hearing this from their lover but you aren’t most people. You’re the Horn of No Peak, sworn to protect the clan – and Yoongi – from any threats.

Your gaze narrows on his. “That’s a problem, then. I’m your Horn, Yoongi. It’s my duty to protect No Peak – to protect you. The Pillar is the spine of this clan and, once severed, No Peak can’t survive. It can survive without me, though.”

Yoongi’s nostrils flare. “And what about me?” he asks. “If you don’t survive, how do you expect me to continue?”

You go still. “Yoongi… I…”

“And for that matter,” he adds, his hand on your chin sliding to the back of your neck. “If you’re so intent on following the rules, who are you to give me orders? I’ll fight to protect the clan if I want to, Y/N.”

Fury expands from the spark in your chest. “You didn’t make me your Horn to follow you blindly,” you seethe.

“No.” His gaze softens. “I did not.”

You stare at each other for a long moment, each passing second draining some of your fire. You’re left with smoke on your tongue, a heaviness in your heart and the ever-growing certainty the time for rule-following has passed.

“You… can’t think like that,” you say eventually.

Yoongi’s brow sketches upward. “Like what?”

“Like I’m worth more than the clan. More than you, as it’s Pillar. That’s dangerous precedent.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, I do,” you say, frustrated by his nonchalance. “The clan is my blood, and the Pillar is its master,” you add, reciting your oaths again. “You are the Pillar. Your life is that of the clan.”

Yoongi’s lips twist with displeasure. “It seems we’re at an impasse, since I refuse to place my life before yours.”

“Yoongi,” you snap, exasperated. “You can’t just… just –”

“Just what?” His eyes blaze. “Love you?”

“Yes,” you whisper, voice breaking.

Something in his face gentles. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”

Perceiving this truth, the last bit of fight drains from your body. Sensing it, Yoongi draws you closer and pulls you against him. Eyes shutting, you lean into his chest. Yoongi’s aura swallows you whole, an oasis of calm against the onslaught of night.

His breath warms your ear. “It was my problem to fix,” Yoongi murmurs, sounding reticent. “She… Yejun didn’t betray Maro, but she was going to – that’s how I found out. She was writing a letter to me on her kitchen table. I walked in and saw it.”

Lifting your head, you regard him. “You don’t have to explain to me why you spared your sister. I understand.”

“Thank you. You should know, though,” he adds, his voice fierce, “I will do anything to keep those I love from harm.”

You can’t help but smile, though it quickly fades. “I know you would, Yoongi. That’s a burden you can’t carry alone, though. It makes you weaker, not stronger.”

“This was my fault, though,” he says. “Not yours – nor anyone else from the clan. It was my decision to let Maro go free.”

“You aren’t responsible for Maro’s actions. And it’s not weakness to show mercy.”

A muscle jumps in his jaw.

“It’s not,” you press on. “Who’s to say what the right choice was? If you’d killed Maro back then, maybe something worse would’ve happened. Yejun might not have forgiven you. It’s impossible to rewrite the past, and you’ll go mad if you try.”

Yoongi looks away, unconvinced. “What type of Pillar does that make me, though?”

“One who hesitates before killing their friends.”

“One who balks at making tough decisions.”

“Min Yoongi.” Steel layers your voice and you reach up, turning his face to yours. “I would never swear oaths to someone who killed without question. Who made decisions in anger, then regretted them later. You question me when you question yourself.”

His gaze roams your face. “And what if others betray me?” Yoongi murmurs, voice lower. “Would you continue to support me if I was forced to kill Asha? Or Jungkook?”

“I’d trust you did what had to be done.”

“And what if I become corrupt?” he murmurs, his gaze flicking lower. “What if I’m the one being selfish, betraying the clan?”

“Well, that’s easy.” Reaching lower, you wrap a hand around the hilt of his blade. “I’ll kill you myself.”

Not looking away, Yoongi’s hand covers yours. “You could try,” he murmurs, some of his tension dissipated.

“Oh, I think I’d succeed.”

Releasing your hand, Yoongi finds your knee and hitches your leg against him. “If it came to that,” he murmurs, nose skimming your throat, “I’d let you.”

Inhaling softly, you close your eyes. “Promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

Perceiving the truth to his words, you open your eyes. Yoongi stares back, letting you see the starkness in his gaze. It’s no small thing for the most powerful man in Kekon to promise you anything.

Similarly, it’s no small thing to admit he holds your heart in both hands. Which is why you need to say what you do next. Without Yoongi’s next promise, this can’t go any further.

“Don’t make these decisions without me,” you whisper. “Let me decide for myself when a job is too dangerous.”

Yoongi’s lips flatten. “You give me an impossible choice, since nothing is too dangerous for my lovely Horn.”

“Trust that I love you, then,” you say, your hand trembling as you rise to cup his face. “And that I’ll do what it takes to come back.”

Yoongi goes still at your declaration. His pupils dilate so far, they seem to swallow the light. Four years, you’ve spent fighting together. Five months of knowing him this way, and never have you uttered those words to his face.

The transformation is quick, his expression shifting to desire in barely a breath. Bending, Yoongi drags your mouth to his. “Say it again,” he growls against your lips. “Tell me you love me.”

“You’ll become greedy,” you say, breathless.

“I’m the Pillar of No Peak.” He gives a half-laugh. “I will always want more.”

“Then, take it.”

Opening your mouth, Yoongi walks you backwards until your spine hits the wall. You lose yourself in his touch, his taste, the fatal heat of his body. Fingers tangling in hair, you’re rewarded by the basest of groans from his lips. Yoongi’s hands find your body, grasping and searching to pull you against him.

Far below, the faint pulse of jade auras brush yours. “Yoongi,” you moan, nipping his lower lip. “We should go.”

Pulling away, his thumbs indent your hips. “Go where?”

“Your place. My place. I don’t care.”

“I do,” he says with a grin. “Want to wake up with you in my bed.”

You can’t help but laugh. “You’re so needy.”

“I am.” His lips curve. “I need many things, Y/N. You in my bed. Eventually, in my house. Your vows exchanged for mine. But first” – his brow lifts – “I need to fuck you. Need to bury myself inside you.”

Lips parting, you attempt to digest this information. Everything Min Yoongi has laid on the line. The last sentence catches your attention though, heat curling in your belly and replacing all sentient thought. The rest can come later – first, you need him inside you.

“Let’s go,” you declare, pushing yourself from the wall.

He chuckles, low in his throat as he follows your lead. Halfway down, Yoongi’s arm finds your waist to pull you against him. His teeth scrape the skin beneath your ear, pausing to nip the highest jade hoop.

“Where will you put your new jade?” he muses, pressing his erection to you from behind. “You’re running out of places on your body.”

“I’ll think of something,” you murmur, Yoongi’s tongue on your neck proving extremely distracting. “Wrist cuffs might be nice.”

“If you wanted to be cuffed” – his voice dips – “all you had to do was ask.”

“That is not what I was referring to,” you say, although a shiver traces your spine.

“Pity.”

A second before exiting the stairwell, Yoongi releases you and takes a step back. You ignore the disappointment this brings, forcing your expression to neutral. Already, police cars are arriving to hold back the crowds.

From across the lobby, you spot Asha and Hoseok in deep conversation with uniformed officers. Moving towards them, you’re surprised when Yoongi takes you by the elbow.

“I ran into Hoseok in the lobby,” he says, steering you sideways. “He and Asha will clean up and meet us back home.”

Hoseok nods when you pass, his jaw tight in a way that implies displeasure. Swallowing laughter, you push open the door and immediately, your smile vanishes. Many people have gathered, huddled in groups around the yellow caution tape.

Catching sight of your reflection, you stifle a groan. You look terrible – sweat and blood mar your forehead, the rips in your jacket showing your wounds. Before anything between you and Yoongi can happen, you need a hot shower.

“The situation’s been handled,” Yoongi says to the crowd, pulling you towards the car. “Green Bones are searching the area for remaining danger – you should be able to enter the building soon. No Peak will compensate for damages.”

With that, he opens the car door and watches you enter. Expressions shift in the crowd, a wave of relief washing over the people. Yoongi joins you in the backseat, leaning forward to instruct the driver to go.

The car rumbles from the curb, its speed slow to avoid the pedestrians in your path. Grateful for the tinted windows, you lean sideways and rest your head against the cool glass.

In the reflection, you watch Yoongi retrieve his car phone. “Namjoon?” he says after a moment. “It’s done – Maro is dead. How’s Yejun?”

Namjoon’s reply is muffled, and your thoughts wander. Once you return, you should find Jungkook and instruct him to search Maro’s former haunts. There’s a chance he wasn’t working alone and if so, you’ll need to catch his supporters.

Tonight has taken a toll though, no matter how much you’d like to pretend otherwise. Exhaustion settles while you stare out the window, watching the lights of Janloon flick past.

Yoongi hangs up the phone. “Yejun is fine,” he says, and you turn your head. “Namjoon said she lost a lot of blood, but nothing that can’t be fixed. She should be awake in a few hours.”

Relief floods your body. “That’s good.”

His hand rests beside yours on the seat, close enough to feel the heat from his palm. Exhaling softly, Yoongi shifts until his hand covers yours.

Going still, you stare at your entwined hands on the leather. The car slows beneath you, coming to a stop before the Min gates. Another moment passes before the gates open, the car rumbling forward as Yoongi speaks up.

“You can take us to my place, Galo,” he says. “No need to stop at the main house.”

Startled, you glance sideways, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to notice. Never mind the driver’s raised eyebrows, or the fact that Yoongi just told him you’re sleeping together. While it’s true, you’ve slept here before, you’ve never been obvious. It feels as though a bridge has been crossed without discussion of what that means.

The moment the car is in park, you exit the vehicle and slam the door. Striding inside the front door, you unzip your jacket to hang on a hook. If Yoongi thinks he can share your relationship with others, you have every right to act at home in his house.

Technically, the Horn has a house on Min property, but you’ve always preferred to keep a separate residence. Your apartment in the city has served you well – except for the nights you stay here and sneak out the next morning.

Removing your boots, you set these aside. “We just discussed this,” you fume as you turn. “Ask me next time before you decide–”

Your words are cut off by Yoongi’s mouth, pushing you back until your spine hits the wall. “Couldn’t wait,” he rasps, shutting the door with his foot. “Need you. Now.”

Exhaling, you melt and arch upward against him. Grasping your thigh, Yoongi yanks your leg higher to wrap around his waist. The thick length of his cock presses to your center and you nearly whimper. Fiery anger dissolves into need – the need to touch him, feel him and wash away tonight’s fear.

“Yoongi,” you moan, turning your head. “I need to shower.”

Grasping your wrists with one hand, he presses them above your head. “Do you?” he murmurs, kissing down your neck.

“I’m covered in blood,” you protest.

Glancing up, Yoongi smirks. “And?”

Stifling laughter, you push at his chest. Obedient, Yoongi releases your hands to take a step backward. “Not to mention,” you say as you move past, “I’d rather not have Toh Marosun’s blood in your bed.”

Yoongi’s next action is quick, happening in the same breath. Catching your wrist in one hand, he pulls you closer. “The next time you say a man’s name in this house,” he rasps. “It had better be mine.”

“We’ll see,” you say loftily. “Now, let me wash up.”

Releasing you, Yoongi lets you pass, and you don’t turn around. If you did, you know you might cave and fuck him right there on the floor.

Entering his bedroom, you flick on the lights. Soft, muted warmth fills a room of concrete. Bulletproof windows overlook dense vegetation, invoking the feel of a post-apocalyptic city. Pausing in the doorway, you inhale his scent.

Although you’d never tell Yoongi – it’d go to his head – this room has swiftly become one of your favorite places. Watching dawn break in his arms has brought you greater peace than any of the gods.

In his bathroom, you help yourself to his fancy products and step under the spray. Securing your hair, you do your best to avoid the strands getting wet. Cranking up the heat to high, steam fills the room as you scrub blood from your skin. The water beneath your feet turns red, and then pink before finally clear.

Once done, you turn off the spray and wrap yourself in a towel. Straining Perception, you find Yoongi showering across the house. You’re momentarily surprised he didn’t try and join, although grateful he didn’t. After five years of knowing one another, Yoongi understands when you need time alone.

You’re washing your face when the bedroom door creaks. Drying your skin, you cross to the closet and withdraw a robe. Securing the tie, you wipe steam from the mirror before opening the door.

Yoongi sits on the edge of his bed, damp hair curling at the base of his neck. He’s freshly washed and changed into a plain shirt and trousers. In one hand, he holds a crystal glass of hoji, swirling it once before taking a sip.

Leisurely, his gaze drags down your body. When Yoongi looks up, his face brims with unsaid desire. Silent, he sets down his glass and pushes himself to stand. Watching him eagerly, you Perceive his intent when Yoongi prowls closer.

Coming to a stop before you, Yoongi lifts his hand to cup the back of your neck. Tilting your face upward, he strokes your damp skin with his fingers.

Silent, he lowers his face until your lips nearly touch. “What was it you said?” he murmurs. “About the clan being your blood and the Pillar, its master?”

Your breath catches in your throat. “You know the oaths as well as I do.”

“Yes.” Bending, Yoongi uses Strength to lift you against him. Gripping you tightly, he carries you to his dresser and deposits you there. “Well,” he says, lowering himself. “Allow me to show you who I get on my knees for.”

You stare at him, mesmerized when he parts your legs. Pulling your hips to the edge, Yoongi grips your thigh with a veined hand. The sight of him like this is downright sinful. Desire courses through you, setting your skin ablaze.

Yoongi leans forward, gaze meeting yours at the first brush of his tongue. You groan with relief, thighs spreading further. Lifting his other hand, Yoongi tugs at the tie of your robe. You inhale when it opens, fully bared while Yoongi’s tongue curls against your dripping sex.

He pulls away, eyes dark and casually spreads your folds. Muttering something that sounds like a swear, he stares at your cunt before lowering his head and sucking your clit. A dark moan escapes, weight shifting to get him even closer. Forcing your thighs open, Yoongi begins to flick his tongue against your swollen mound.

He doesn’t rush this, taking his time while eating you out. Yoongi flicks, and then swirls before sucking your clit. His tongue drags to your cunt, already dripping with arousal. Humming in satisfaction, Yoongi shifts on the floor and slips his tongue inside. Gasping his name, your fingers curl in the dark strands of his hair.

His tongue slowly fucks you, barely a taste of what’s to come. “Yoongi,” you groan, moving against him. “I need more.”

“Anything,” he says, pulling back to spread you with his fingers. Yoongi’s thumb finds your clit, casually stroking until your body quivers. “Take off the robe,” he demands, looking up. “I want to see you.”

Wordless, you push the supple silk from your shoulders.

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathes, staring at rounded breasts and hard nipples. Lowering his head, he sucks your clit again. Sliding a hand under your ass, he drags you close to the edge.

Gasping out loud, your hand fists his hair to anchor your body. In the mirror behind him, you watch your chest heave, hips undulating while he licks your pussy. Head tipping back, you lose yourself in sensation, each stroke of his tongue further coiling your tension. Yoongi is patient; he knows what you need and takes his time getting there.

Cupping his head, you move your hips while starting to ride his tongue. When Yoongi strokes your entrance and slips a finger inside, you nearly convulse.

“Yoongi,” you gasp, legs shaking.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, lifting his head. Curling that finger, he strokes a dangerous place. “Come for me.”

When his tongue resumes motion, you feel your walls convulse. Tighter and tighter until – everything snaps, a wave of pleasure cresting through you. Thighs trembling, you hold Yoongi’s hair while you cry out his name.

The pleasure slowly subsides, leaving you slumped on the dresser. Yoongi pushes himself upward, cock straining eagerly against the seams of his pants. Cupping the back of your neck, he kisses you deeply, allowing you to taste yourself. Parting your lips with his tongue, he dives into you eagerly, one hand slipping to slide into your pussy.

Groaning his name, you fumble with the buttons holding his shirt together. “This,” you demand. “Off.”

Using Strength, you send the buttons flying. Yoongi smirks, withdrawing and pushing his shirt to the ground. Touching his chest, you stare at him, unabashed. The lean lines of his torso, the indent of his v, the jade lining his fingers where he grips you tightly.

His moon blade is absent, likely the first thing he cleaned upon entry. Still, the hum of Yoongi’s jade is a potent weapon – nearly as much as the need in his eyes.

Lowering your hand, you palm the bulge in his pants. Jaw flexing, Yoongi lifts your leg to wrap around him. The roughness of his pants against your sex makes you hiss.

“Yoongi,” you moan. “Want to touch you.”

“I want that, too,” he murmurs, hair falling into his gaze. “More than that, I want to be inside you.”

Breath catching, you remove your hand as he presses forward. You feel his cock through his pants, rock-hard and straining against your needy pussy. Swallowing thickly, you managed to undo the last button and shove his pants down. Stepping free of their confines, Yoongi palms his own cock.

Replacing his hand, you give him a squeeze. Yoongi lowers his head to close his lips around a waiting nipple. A whimper rises when he tugs, switching to the other breast and repeating the motion. Arching upward, you lazily drag your thumb over the tip of his cock.

Eventually, Yoongi looks up and hisses, “Enough.”

Reaching lower, he guides his cock to your entrance. Leaning back on your palms, you lift one knee to allow him better access. Yoongi pauses, gaze traveling your face to your chest, landing on your cunt. Exhaling softly, your head tips back as you widen your legs.

“You’re perfect,” Yoongi rasps, flicking his thumb over your hooded clit.

Inhaling, you tremble from oversensitivity. Bending, Yoongi slowly spits to land moisture on your cunt. It drips down your sex, mixing with arousal while Yoongi pushes the tip of his cock inside. He pauses, watching your face, then adds another inch.

You arch upward, trying and failing to take him in deeper. “Is that all you have?” you challenge, goading.

Yoongi merely smirks. “Do you think,” he murmurs, refusing to move, “you can make me give you what you want?”

When he starts to withdraw, you tilt your hips, and he slides in a bit deeper. Yoongi groans as he fills you, hand tightening on your waist.

“Yes,” you gloat, brushing your breasts to his chest. “I do.”

Yoongi’s gaze flares, and he pushes in a bit more. “I know you, Y/N,” he murmurs, moving one hand to your neck. Thumb brushing your collarbone, he hauls you upright and keeps your thighs spread. “I know you want this pussy filled nice and slow. I know you want me to tease you. I know you want to feel in control but have someone else do the work. And I want – no, need,” Yoongi corrects, aura flaring, “to be the one giving it to you.”

Before you can respond, he thrusts forward and fills you with his cock. A cry leaves you, unable to do anything but take it. With your legs spread, hips tilted, the thickness of his length presses to your g-spot. And when Yoongi withdraws and leaves your body empty, you think you might cry. Think you might beg to have more of his cock.

Luckily, Yoongi doesn’t want this. Thrusting into you fully, he starts to move. Filling you up with his thickness, he goes harder and harder until you can barely think straight. His hips pound yours, filling you to the brim, making you take it. Fingers brushing the jade on your throat, he spikes your arousal and drenches his cock.

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathes, staring at the place he disappears inside you. “You’re amazing.”

“Yoongi,” you groan. “I need… need…”

“Yeah?” His gaze lifts. “Tell me what you need.”

“Deeper,” you plead.

His aura flares briefly before he pulls out. Before you can speak, his hands find your waist, setting you on the floor to turn you around. Spreading your legs, he presses a hand to your back to push you lower.

Gripping his dresser, you look over your shoulder while he positions himself from behind. “What about now?” Yoongi asks, slipping inside with one thrust.

Lips parting, you bend further and stick out your ass. Yoongi starts to move when you spread your legs, fucking you harder. His thrusts become rougher, hips slapping your ass while your breasts bounce.

“That’s it,” he says, leaning forward to lace one hand with yours. His other slides between your thighs, flicking over your clit. “So wet and tight for me. Taking my cock like you own it.”

“Don’t I?” you groan.

“Mm,” he agrees, rubbing circles on your clit. “It’s yours – I’m yours.”

Before you can respond, he pulls out again. Draping you over one shoulder, Yoongi carries you, Light, to his bed. You scowl, hitting his thigh but Yoongi responds with a firm smack to your ass. His fingers slip briefly between your cheeks, wetting himself with your slick. Before you can moan, he deposits you on the bed.

Kneeling between your legs, Yoongi repositions himself at your entrance and pushes in.

“Oh,” you groan, heading tilting back.

You love sex with Yoongi in every position, but this is your favorite. Feeling his callouses slide over our skin, his weight heavy while filling you with his cock. Yoongi’s length slides inside, rocking into you slowly while his hair brushes your forehead.

Reaching up, you push this from his face when he starts to move. If there’s one thing you’ve learned from tonight, it’s that these moments are precious. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you hold him tighter.

“Marry me,” Yoongi says.

You go still underneath him. “I… what?”

Sliding his hand under your hips, Yoongi tilts them to get deeper. “Marry me,” he repeats. “I’m tired of pretending. Tired of waking up without you. Living my life without you.”

“You have me,” you say, unsure whether he’s serious.

Slowly, he thrusts in and out of your body. “Not the way I want.” His eyes flash. “As not only my Horn, but my wife. I want to be your husband. I want the entire world to know I belong to you.”

Taking your other hand, Yoongi moves this to the bed while continuing to thrust. You arch against him, chasing his hips and words with your own.

“People will talk,” you say, breathless.

His gaze sparks. “Do you think I care?”

“Maybe I care,” you say. “They’ll call me a distraction. And don’t give me that bullshit about my life being worth more than yours.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Yoongi chuckles, teeth scraping your neck. “What I will say is that I’m better with you. And if I’m better, the clan is better. Not that you should marry me because of that,” he adds, almost an afterthought.

You lose your breath when he circles his hips, driving into you deeper. Thighs parting, you lose yourself in the feel of him in you. His body moves as his soul does, completing you fully. In truth, you’ve avoided this conversation because you know how it ends.

It ends with Yoongi. He’s it for you. From the first time you kissed, you knew it would end up here – it was only a matter of when. Your remaining barriers crumble as you meet his gaze.

“Yes,” you exhale, your hips chasing his.

Yoongi’s aura sharpens. “Yes?” he repeats. “Is that… agreement or acceptance?”

“Yes – as in yes, Yoongi, I’ll marry you.”

Yoongi goes completely still, ignoring your protest. A second later, he’s consumed by a wave of emotion. Need – fiery and stark – sweeps through him as he bends, crushing your lips to his. Yoongi’s kiss burns, searing and marking you for one another.

Slipping an arm beneath your knee, Yoongi pushes upward to get even deeper. You gasp with pleasure, his cock hitting a spot that makes you incoherent.

“Soon,” he adds, adding Strength to his thrusts.

Breathless, your fingertips dig into his skin. “Don’t be greedy,” you chide, losing some credibility when a moan leaves your lips.

His upper lip curls. “I am, though,” Yoongi grunts, pushing you close to the edge. “I’ll never have enough of you, Y/N.”

“Good,” you say, holding him tightly. “I’m yours, Yoongi.”

A groan escapes him, burying his face in your neck. The muscles in Yoongi’s shoulders strain, fucking you harder. “I could die hearing those words.”

“Don’t. That’s an order.”

Yoongi looks up to lock gazes. “Whatever you want. I need it, Y/N. Need this – want to feel you come on my cock.”

Already close to the edge, his words leave you trembling. Clutching him harder, you widen your thighs and feel your walls shatter when you come undone. Pleasure consumes you, vision going dark as you throw back your head. Yoongi’s lips brush your throat, continuing to thrust through your orgasm.

Swearing when you tighten, Yoongi goes harder to chase his release. On his last thrust, he breaks, your name on his tongue as hot cum fills your body. Slowly, he lowers himself to the bed beside you. Yoongi slips partway out, your bodies still intertwined.

Lifting a hand, you drag this down his side. Yoongi smiles at you before pulling out, reaching to grab a tissue from his nightstand. He cleans you with care, then rises from bed to throw it away. Slipping beneath the covers, you wait for his return.

Yoongi does so quietly, dimming the light before he joins you in bed. Slowly, your eyes adjust until Yoongi’s moon-limned face becomes visible.

“Did you mean it?” you say, barely more than a whisper.

“I’ve never meant anything more in my life,” he says roughly. “And you? Did you also mean what you said?”

Slowly, you nod.

Joy floods his aura, sharp and bright. “Anything you want,” Yoongi says, determined. “You have only to ask. Cities burnt. Villains vanquished. My own name, forsaken – ask, and it’s yours.”

You can’t help but laugh, your whole body shaking. “Villains vanquished?” you tease, pressing closer. “There are some who might call you the villain of this story.”

His lip twitches. “Then, I’ll defeat myself.”

“Seems like an easy fight.”

Mock growling, he rolls to pin you underneath him. You laugh louder, the sound muffled when Yoongi bends to kiss you. By the time his head lifts, the two of you are breathless.

“I apologize,” you murmur, cupping his face. “Most fearsome Pillar.”

Baring his teeth, he nips your thumb. “That’s better.”

“Truly, though,” you tell him. “There’s no need to get me anything. Whatever I want, I can get for myself.”

Somewhat amused, Yoongi settles beside you. “Oh, I’m aware. My heart, for instance,” he says, placing your hand on his chest.

“That, I’ll accept,” you say softly, staring at your hand on his skin. Your gaze lifts. “As long as mine belongs to you, in turn.”

“A heart for a heart,” Yoongi agrees, moving closer.

Skin pressed to skin, you feel your hearts settle. No Green Bone magic ties two souls together. Instead, that magic lies within the bounds of normal humans. And yet, as you breathe and listen to the blood in his veins, you can’t help but feel something greater is at work.

Something even death could not part – although you’d dare it to try.

Author’s Note: thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Go read Jade City by Fonda Lee. LOL

#bangtanarmynet #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfiction #bts fanfiction #bts fic #yoongi organized crime #bts organized crime

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mucking-faori · 6 months

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Now that National and ACT look like they're set for an awful term for new zealand, do not let yourself forget.

Don't forget how mainstream media accepted blanket national ads on news websites without question. How they promoted David Seymour and other right politicians as guests on comedy panel shows, pushing their profile and image. How they insisted on describing threats of genocide, violence and terrorism as "jokes", "opinions", and "honest mistakes".

Don't forget the national party members accepting saluting nazis in their midst. David seymour's "jokes" about violently murdering Pacifica people. The female maori politicians receiving death threats, being physically assaulted and having their homes invaded . Christopher luxon describing the poor as "bottom feeders". Their allyships with destiny church. Their attempts to frame queer people as predators. Their clear and ongoing attempts to redress antisemitic conspiracies into "maori elite" ones; and saying we should be literally exterminated.

And most of all, you BETTER not forget to take action. We have years to make sure this doesn't happen again, to ensure they can get as few of their disgusting plans accomplished as possible. We have to make change wherever we can and ensure that marginalized voices are accepted, supported and lifted up in our communities.

Fuck National. Fuck ACT. Fuck NZ First. And fuck all their pathetic little cronies.

We won't be silenced.

#maori #ahau #torangapu #aotearoa #kaikiri #nz #new zealand #nzpol #sorry if this is rambly #I'm just fucking furious #and i need to get something out

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dewdropdinosaur · 1 month

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Our Mom

LUCIFER x (F) READER

Part One

Summary: You like Lucifer and he likes you. One problem though: what will your 'kids' think? Based off an comment from @river-ride

Warnings: NONE

OMG!!! My lovelies, thank you so much for the support on my last Lucifer fic. Y'all are amazing! Remember, requests are open for lots of fandoms etc. Thank you so much for all of y'alls love and I appreacite you.

For now, enjoy more Lucifer my dears!!

In the bustling corridors of the Hazbin Hotel, where the damned sought refuge from the fiery depths of Hell, Y/N was a beacon of warmth and solace. She was more than just a resident; she was a pillar of support, a confidante, and a pseudo-mother figure to many within those crimson walls.

Among those she touched was Lucifer, the charming and enigmatic ruler of Hell, who found himself inexplicably drawn to her gentle kindness and unwavering compassion. Yet, despite the undeniable spark between them, neither dared to voice the truth lingering in their hearts. Despite being quite close after the battle with Heaven and the rebuilding of the Hotel, neither party could seem to bring themselves to speak their feelings.

On one hand, Y/N feared two things: that Lucifer could never like a lowly sinner like her and that since she was a pseudo-mother to all of the hotel’s residents…dating the King of Hell may cause a few setbacks in relationships that she desperately did not want. Y/N loved each and every resident in the Hotel, an older demon herself who never had the chance to have her own, everyone under the crimson fading roof became like a child to her. She adored Angel’s compassion even in the midst of despair, she loved playing cards with Husk(who definitely didn’t let her win to see that small smile of hers), time spent chatting and planning with Charlie was always a blast, and yes…even time with Alastor listening to old jazz tunes had found its place in the grand scheme of things. So, her feelings for Lucifer would have to be put on hold indefinitely for this arrangement not to break.

On the other hand, Lucifer the King of Hell himself was a wreck. Every time he saw Y/N, her smile, the way she carried herself with compassion but still headstrong it made his knees buckle and he could have sworn he was back in Heaven. She was like an angel, ironically so. He fully knew of her past, her sins. Yet, she was so willing to help and assist others at a shot of redemption she knew she could never have struck a chord within the lonely ruler of the Underworld.

However, one fateful evening, as the residents gathered in the grand hall for their routine meeting, tensions simmered beneath the surface. Charlie, along with Husk, Angel Dust, and Alastor, had grown wary of Lucifer's aloof demeanor towards Y/N. They knew of the unspoken affection that brewed between the two, and they were determined to push the devil to confront his feelings(or perishing for daring to even look at Y/N was another option considered by some…ahem…Alastor and the beloved Sassy Narrator)

As the meeting progressed, Charlie cleared her throat, catching everyone's attention. "It has come to our attention," she began, exchanging knowing glances with the others, "that certain... feelings may be harbored within our midst."

Husk smirked, Angel winked mischievously, and Alastor's grip tightened, his eyes glinting with murderous amusement.

Lucifer's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he let out a breathy chuckle, sensing a trap. "And what feelings might those be, my dear? I surely hope no animosity has been brewing."

Charlie gestured subtly to Y/N, who stood by the sidelines, her gaze fixed on her ‘children’ around her.

"Feelings of a... romantic nature, perhaps?" Charlie smiled but her eyes were nervous. She knew her father well enough that it was indeed time to move on from Lillith and Y/N was no better candidate, doing a better job than Lillith herself ever did. But what if she was wrong and her father really had no interest in her ‘new’ mother. Or the other way around?

A collective murmur swept through the room as the residents exchanged curious glances. Y/N's cheeks flushed crimson, and Lucifer felt a strange warmth spread through his chest at the mention of romance.

Clearing his throat, Alastor leaned forward, his grin widening into a smirk. "Now, now, Lucifer, don't be shy. We all know how dear Y/N is to you. Why, if anything were to happen to her, well..."

The implication hung heavy in the air, and Lucifer's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Are you threatening me, Alastor?"

Alastor chuckled nonchalantly, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement as he waved his hands in a circular motion around his cane which made ominous shadows appear around Lucifer’s chair.

"Merely stating the obvious. After all, we wouldn't want anything untoward to happen to our dear Y/N now, would we?"

The tension in the room was palpable as Lucifer's jaw clenched, his gaze flickering between Y/N and the others. Husk flicked his claws open, Angel smirked with a glinting knife in hand, and even Vaggie tilted her head to gesture to her angelic spear. All of them were in agreement… ‘hurt our mom and you will wish you got to die a second time.’

Sensing his inner turmoil, Y/N stepped forward, her voice gentle but firm.

"Lucifer, you don't have to listen to them. Whatever you feel, whatever we feel, it's... it's our choice."

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still as Lucifer met her gaze, his expression softening with an unspoken understanding.

Finally, with a resigned sigh, he stepped forward, his hand reaching out to cup Y/N's cheek tenderly. "Perhaps... perhaps there is truth in what they say," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But know this, my dear Y/N: I would move mountains to keep you safe, to cherish you, for as long as you'll have me."

A soft smile tugged at Y/N's lips as she leaned into his touch, her heart swelling with a newfound sense of courage and hope. "Then let's face whatever comes together," she whispered, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

And as the residents of the Hazbin Hotel looked on, witnessing the delicate dance of love and redemption unfolding before them, they knew that no matter the trials that lay ahead, Y/N and Lucifer would weather the storm together, bound by a love that transcended even the depths of Hell itself.

And even if something did ever happen…well they would kill the King himself without a second thought and Lucifer knew it.

#romance #hazbin hotel fandom #vizziepop #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #vaggie hazbin hotel #angel dust #husk hazbin hotel #nifty hazbin hotel #friends to lovers #charlie morningstar #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor

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superdillin · 18 hours

Text

It is Armenian Genocide Remembrance Day

And I have some big feelings, as a part of the diaspora. Remembrance Day is an inappropriate title for a time in which Armenians still face genocidal forces. Just last year, Azerbaijan, armed by Turkey, ethnically cleansed over 280,000 Armenians from Artsakh. The illegal colonizer state of Israel, currently in the midst of their 6+ month-long genocide against the Palestinians, has placed the Armenians who call Jerusalem home under threat and siege.

The Armenian struggle and the Palestinian struggle are deeply linked.

In his rise to power, Hitler is quoted to justify his actions against the Jewish, Roma, Queer, Disabled, and other victims of the Holocaust, to say "Who, after all, speaks today of the annihilation of the Armenians?"

Echoing these chilling words, Palestinian poet Najwan Darwish wrote:

Who Remembers the Armenians? I remember them and I ride the nightmare bus with them each night and my coffee, this morning I'm drinking it with them You, murderer - Who remembers you?

The trauma sustained during a genocide is not limited to the people experiencing it right now. The echoes of that trauma leak forward into the next generations, passed down through survival, and that is so insidious. My grandmother got to live, but did so believing that her parents did not love her, because the trauma they endured prevented them from expressing it. Abuse and unhealthy attachment were passed down because that starving hunger for love and acceptance was passed down. It is so deeply cruel and unfair that our oppressors get to reach through time and hurt our children's children.

We need to band together and stop the present-day abusers, the genocidal monsters that oppress the people of Palestine, Armenia, Congo, and so many others.

We need to uplift art made by those who survived, and by those who are surviving. Art is always targeted by the oppressor to erase cultural identity, to destroy legacy, and to break spirits. Support Palestinian and Armenian poets, and artists, and writers.

If you are one of the many who never learned about the Armenian Genocide, learn today. Ask yourself why people worked so hard not to educate you on this piece of history.

#armenian genocide #armenian genocide remembrance day #najwan darwish #armenia #artsakh

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pomegranate-pen · 6 months

Text

Why you shouldn't fall for blondes

Yandere! Aqua Hoshino x Reader

summary:

Perhaps, becoming the official composer for B-Komachi was a mistake.

Sure, the pay was great, and yes, you did get a good sum of followers and subscribers all because of your guest features on the official channel. But somehow, even if you were still much less popular than the girls in front, you’ve been starting to feel…watched.

---- alt title: in which reader, a composer for B-Komachi finds themself being stalked, and needing to take some security measures for safety. unfortunately for them, the situation worsens.

here's the ao3 version if you're more comfortable reading there!

warnings: the usual yandere stuff, such as stalking, kidnapping, manipulation, gaslighting and etc, though, no murder or extreme noncon happens ( though there's still noncon kissing), there are slight mentions of nsfw, but they are in the context of jokes! reader is gender-neutral and uses they/them pronouns.

words: ...30k...lord have mercy...

Perhaps, becoming the official composer for B-Komachi was a mistake.

It was first very subtle, and you only perceived it as perhaps getting a few more glances from strangers due to your face looking familiar. Someone they perhaps saw on their recommendation, or heard of by name or photo. But ever since your job offers outside of Strawberry Productions increased, and your contributions to different art communities have become more acknowledged, you’ve gotten more colleagues and friends around you, and with that, you’ve also felt more stalked than ever.

Still, you naively brushed it off. Or perhaps, you intentionally wanted to constantly ignore it. you've gotten so far, and you’re becoming more popular than you could’ve ever wished for. It was a dream come true, a dream any artist such as yourself would want to achieve. Why stop now just for this small feeling?

Yet, as time passed, and the feeling increased, you couldn’t help but start to feel paranoid. Even now, in the midst of your writings and scribbles in the office, as the B-Komachi team chatted, You heard Kana speak about being forced to take different routes home, because she too, was noticing the pair of eyes behind her back. it was even more concerning when Memcho agreed with her, speaking about how in recent weeks she’s seen articles about different idols finding stalkers around the comforts of their homes.

Shit. That is not good to hear. You take a deep breath, pencil now dropped to the table as you quickly grab your water bottle in stress.

Ruby, ever curious, was first to notice your strange behavior for the day. “You okay there Y/n?”

You turn around to face the group, though refreshed, the water does not help to quell your fears. You cleared your throat, a bit of exhaustion seeping into you. “I’m fine.” Was all you could huff.

“You don’t look fine.” Memcho gave you a concerned look.

Soon enough, Arima’s attention seemed to be caught as well, though her tone was more scolding rather than concerned, you knew her intentions were in the right place. “If you have something on your mind, it’s best to tell your coworkers rather than stay silent”. She raised a brow. “Is it about our vocals in the new song?”

Not wanting to see another feud of Arima’s self-deprecating humor and Ruby’s repeated determination to sing the notes perfectly, you quickly answered the question. “No No- it’s not that at all-“In a hurried moment, you felt the hairs on your skin stand still as you felt the same piercing gaze once more. You glance behind you in a fit of panic, yet you only find Miss Saitou and Aqua busy with their work, and that feeling of edge left as soon s it came, leaving you confused and a bit horrified. Saitou looked at you with concern.

“…are you truly fine, L/n?” she questioned, and you were left speechless as now everyone in the room was staring at you like you were going insane.

“I-..I uh…” Ah fuck. Perhaps, it wouldn’t hurt to tell them. After all, usually when one doesn’t tell others about such strange situations, they end up dead in an alleyway- or at least- that’s what all the crime movies have told you.” This might be me being overwhelmed by how popular B-Komachi is getting..but, ..I think I have a stalker.”

You didn’t really want to look at them, you were completely sure they were smiling and holding back cackles of laughter. Is a mere composer for the band getting stalked rather than the team itself? It’s more than just funny, it’s ridiculous.

Silence takes over the room, and for 15 solid seconds, you keep thinking perhaps they’re holding back their giggles. Yet nothing comes out, and you finally look up to them, only to see horrified faces. Surprisingly enough, Ruby’s expression was the most haunting of all. it’s as if she saw a murder happen right in front of her. Aqua was the first to cut through the silence, and though his expression looked solemn, he did seem quite conflicted. Yet..there’s something different about his expression. Something you couldn’t quite place. It’s as if he was masking something else. You truly weren't certain about what exactly he was masking. Perhaps it was the true horror he felt? After all, Aqua is an actor, he’s most likely using these skills to calm everyone down and not add more fuel to the fire. He’s always been caring in that sense. “Are you certain it’s a stalker, Y/n?”

“I mean…not really.” You answer truthfully. The more you think about it, the more uncomfortable you feel. There was this sort of tension your mind was warning you about, a sort of alarm, that the gaze you so fear is still right around the corner. Curse these anxieties, you thought. You try to shake off those thoughts and continue with your explanation. “ It’s kinda just like what Kana said, a pair of eyes everywhere- but lately, it’s been getting more frequent.”

You take another glance at Ruby, and you feel guilt course through you.“I-I’m sure it’s nothing though! I’m probably just being paranoid and stupid- sorry to worry you guys-“ her eyes were so sorrowful, it’s as if she’s seen a ghost. She looks at you as if you just spoken about a traumatizing experience with perfect nonchalance. And you wonder, maybe you did, and your fear has now increased tenfold.

“Paranoia or not, with the level of fame B-Komachi is acquiring these days, it wouldn’t hurt to enhance more security in your lives.” Saitou soon looked back at her computer, the sounds of her quick typing apparent. “ I can add more security to the building here since we now have the funds available for it. you can also ask us to install some security devices in your houses if you two feel that worried about it.”

“huh? I’m not that concerned.” Kana shrugged, though her face was a little bit more on edge than before. “ I just said it as a casual comment. I-I expected something like this anyway-I can find my way out of a situation like this easily.” Though her show of confidence was admirable, you could notice in her slight shifts in posture and twitches in her eye that she wasn’t feeling that safe now either. Now deepening more of your guilt as you silently berate yourself for even bringing the topic up.

To your relief and slight concern, Ruby finally spoke. “ Still, we should be really careful from now on, I don’t want any of us to get hurt.” Something was certainly off with her, too. But you couldn’t pinpoint what exactly. The twins have always been a mystery to you. though Ruby is better to understand, there are certain tones she has that make her words feel a bit like a lie or hide a deeper agenda. And for Aqua, it was always evident that he lies to hide certain emotions, or rather, lies to fabricate some emotions he shows to the public. Nevertheless, though your observation skills have always been on the stellar side, you still can’t fully understand who they are. And right now, with the cautious and out-of-character seriousness that Ruby’s tone has, you can guess that there’s a deeper reason for her tense nature. Still, that doesn’t explain the eerie feeling you get from Aqua. The nonchalance he has isn’t out of his personality, yet it plants a seed of doubt in your mind. “We should leave the place in groups from now on. “

“I agree.” Aqua comments. “We should be in groups divided by two, each person should walk with someone who's closer to their neighborhood.”

----

To your constant unfortunate luck, your home is much farther than everyone else's. With that, Ruby and Saitou paired up together, Since they live together, of course. Arima and Memcho were luckily near each other, and all that was left were you and Aqua. Though. Aqua could’ve easily just paired up with Ms.Saitou and Ruby, everyone thought it was ideal if you had a pair as well. after all, you are the one who raised the stalker concerns, as much as that guilts you now.

“Something on your mind, Y/n?”

In the now dark quiet streets of the once busy city, you find yourself ashamed and embarrassed for staying up all night again and working on the new song, completely forgetting about the blonde actor that was patiently waiting for you. it was around one a.m. when you finally checked the time and remembered the companion just a few seats away from you. After some apologizing, you began your walk to the now-empty streets. Hey, at least we avoided the crowd traffic’ Aqua commented, though it wasn’t really helpful in soothing your embarrassment. "It’s nothing. I just feel bad about bumming out your sister. Sorry about that.”

Aqua merely hummed, the casual sour look still on his face." don't blame yourself. It’s not your comment that got her frightened per se. we…didn’t have a good experience when the first B-Komachi fell from grace.”

Right, Ai Hoshino’s murder. The infamous idol that Ruby and Aqua always seemed so fond of seeing as a role model, they must’ve been scarred from her death as well, you figured. You give Aqua a sympathetic look. “ I can only imagine how hard it was for everyone in Strawberry Productions. He was silent for a moment, and the only noise in the dark streets was from the few little cars that were passing by. You wonder if you’ve crossed the line somewhere- perhaps your choice of words has caused a misunderstanding- but before you can clarify anything he finally speaks.

“Yeah…she was the star that always lit up the room. without her, everything started feeling….” The space between all his words, the hesitancy that was in his posture and tone, it was something you’d never seen from Aqua. an enigma of emotion from an emotionless boy.”… dim.”

“I see…” was all you could reply with. A few moments pass by, and by the unmoving stare Aqua has on the ground, you knew he was quite gloomy now. “Well- if it makes you feel any better…I think Ruby has that certain light Ai had.”

Aqua gives a small scoff. “She’s more like a fire hazard than a star.” He mumbles.

“And you say that because?”

“She gets too excited. I don’t understand why she wants to be an idol given our experience with it.”

oh, so everyone else wasn’t exaggerating. He is quite a bit protective of her. Even so, you wouldn’t go as far as calling him a siscon…although, Kana did mention that his protective behavior has died down a bit ever since your arrival. A connection that you were completely confused about, since there could be no way that you have affected their relationship in such a way when you were just a mere stranger to them. You go to a completely different school and only briefly known Arima as an old classmate. That was the only connection you had to B-Komachi until Saitou ordered a few commissions from you.

“Have you ever thought that maybe because of how much Ai has shined for her, she just wants to be that same star for others?” you suggest, though it was more of an absentminded thought of yours that’s been in the back of your mind for a few months now. You’ve seen her passion, and her love for the craft even through its hardships. And from a stranger's perspective, she’s got the best chance of being an idol than any other normal teenager. Her mother is a manager of an entertainment agency, and her brother already has a good reputation in acting. By all means, the field was hers for the taking.

Even so, your comment seemed to shock him once more. As he stops replying for a few minutes. you try to observe his expression, to see if there’s any change whatsoever, yet, once again, he remains as he’s always been. Whether he believes it or not, you must admit, he has exceptional skill in acting. Though he might not realize himself, the very power of hiding your true emotions requires much skill, one that Aqua honed from the very beginning of his childhood. It’s a certain skill not all people possess, and certainly not all actors of his age, it is why you believe he still gets so many roles, even if he thinks his skills are lackluster at best. Human expressions are often easy to decipher and understand. You know when someone’s angry or relaxed. Frightened or excited. But with Aqua, it’s all blank, even now, you find it extremely frustrating trying to decipher his expression’s emotions, and you probably look like a psychopath with how hard you’re staring at his face. Despite that, he doesn’t give one flinch under your gaze.

“Are you sure you’re not the real stalker? ” he solemnly says. You snap back to reality, looking away a bit embarrassed (and honestly, a bit amused by his dry humor,). You quickly apologize, muttering up an excuse about being stuck on a new song that’s in your head before looking straight ahead again.

“You’re not wrong, by the way.” He speaks up again. “ I guess…it does seem fitting for her to have that kind of goal.”

You merely hum at that, but soon enough, a question pops into your mind.

“What about you?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you in the industry?” you asked and gave him a glance, soon noticing that he was glancing at you as well. “You once told me that you hated acting. Is that still true?”

“There’s someone I’d like to meet.” He replied rather quickly this time. “And the only way to meet him is by going to the top in this industry, little by little.”

“Can’t you just…call him or something? Is he that big?”

“…I don’t know.” He meekly replied, speaking in riddles at this point. “ I just know he’s an actor.” Before you could question anything further, quell all the confusion in your remind by his words, he stops dead in his tracks and looks up behind you.

“This is your spot, right?”

You look behind you, seeing the ever-so-familiar- apartment complex your family lives in. “Uh…yeah.” You felt a bit of doubt get aced within you, and you quickly try to find out why. Soon, your eyes widened and you look at Aqua confused once again. “wait- how did you know I lived in this building?”

He looks at you blankly. “ you talked about annoying upstairs neighbors and your elevator breaking once. The only apartment around this area is yours, and the other building don’t have enough levels to consider an elevator.”

“okay?...you seriously got all that from one conversation with me?” you smiled a bit, amused by his strange nature.

Aqua merely hummed and shrugged. “ I’ve been told I have a good memory.”

“thoughtful, smart and handsome? Damn Aqua, no wonder everyone’s all heart eyes for you.” you teased a bit. “you’re like a prince charming and a bad boy all fit into one.”

“A bad boy?” he questioned, his tone, if one listened to it closely enough, a bit baffled by that statement. “In what terms could I be a bad boy?"

“I mean..in terms of otome games pretty much? It’s like you’re the popular kid and the aloof and quiet one-“

“So not a bad boy.”

“Hey now- one could argue that the quiet guy’s always a sort of a bad boy-“

“Does he ever commit any crimes or go against a certain system?”

“Well…no-“

“So then, not a bad boy.”

“Are you seriously arguing with me about otome characters?” you couldn’t help but chuckle, a giddy smile on your face. “Are you mad that I called you a bad boy?”

“No.” he huffed, and your excitement was further increased that he actually replied with a bemused tone rather than his normal monotone one. “ I just don’t see why anyone could perceive me as a bad boy.”

“Aqua,” you start getting amusingly serious about this discussion, completely forgetting the time and world around you. “ can we agree that a bad boy is basically the character who goes against a certain system in the story? Whether it’s the school or some sort of council?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Then you’re a bad boy.”

“You lost me.” Aqua looks at you disappointed, and you giggle at this point, feeling rejuvenated at the fact that you're slowly breaking Aqua’s ice on emotions.

“You usually go against what a production or producer says during a show- like how you helped Akane get her reputation back after that scandal with the reality show.”

“That’s not really going against a system. I just did the right thing.”

“Spoken like a true bad boy!” you grinned. “That’s the exact words they say to the MC when they have a heart-to-heart.”

“Do you play otome games that much?”

“Do you always have to change the conversation when I’m right?”

Suddenly, and unexpectedly, Aqua’s blank face breaks, and he laughs. He giggles like he's been holding back for hours now, and the ballon of his façade was finally popped. And his smile, oh god, his smile- it wasn’t one of politeness or fake charm, like you’ve often seen him do on that reality show, no. it was real. And it was full of huffs and wheezes, like a true laugh would be. You thought you’d merely cracked his icy expression, but you’ve fully shattered it, it seems.

“Was what I said that funny?” you smile a bit, an unbeknownst giddy feeling taking over you from this whole ordeal.

“No, not really-” He huffs out another laugh, yet he tries to hide it with his hands. You want to grab that hand of his and put it back down, to see that true smile of his as he looks at you, but you stay put, and let him find comfort between the hand, holding it as a mask of sorts. “ but your reactions are.”

There’s a certain twinkle in his eye, a certain shine on his starry pupil that was always black. It was like a light was shining in it, it was looking almost like Ruby’s. it’s pure, and full of excitement, though his is more peaceful than his sister’s. you find yourself feeling your heart warm up, feeling a sense of victory over what you’ve done. Like you’ve cracked a case or solved an impossible puzzle, given a checkmate to a grandmaster in chess.

“You know, you should smile more.” You unconsciously blurt out. “It suits you.”

He doesn’t say anything to that, but it’s obvious now from his expressions ( you can’t believe you can say that now) that he’s shocked by your words, and bashful about it too. His cheeks get a rosy tint as he avoids your gaze.

“It’s really late.” He mumbles. “You should go inside now.”

“Right…” You sighed, now fixing up the bag on your shoulders and making your way inside. You’re one step away from opening the apartment’s door when Aqua suddenly calls out to you. As you turn around, what you see is a complete shift in Aqua’s expression, going from embarrassed and bashful to sorrowful and serious.

“If anything happens, just text one of us.”

Ah right. The stalker. You’ve almost forgotten about it on your walk with Aqua. though you sometimes did feel the prickling gaze, you merely ignored it, feeling safe with another companion beside you. yet now, knowing that tonight of all nights, your parents have left for a business trip together and you’re home alone makes fear in you settle in once more. You only nod in reply, now waving a bit at him then finally opening the door, and letting the fall breeze get away from you, and the sensation of warm heaters settle on your skin once more.

---

You couldn’t sleep.

From the moment you stepped into your house, something was up. You weren’t sure what it was. Either the eery silence that filled the place or the emptiness it has now, there was something wrong with your house, and you didn’t know where to look.

You made sure to lock all the doors and windows, turn on the TV, and put it on a reality show with the volume up just to give the potential stalker the illusion that you’re perhaps not alone. Coincidentally so, it was Aqua’s reality show that the channel was airing, so your fear-riddled and insomniac mind decided to make up a midnight snack and watch the episode.

With the blaring lights and strange love triangle (and honestly, a lack of drama compared to their Western counterparts,) you used the show as white noise as you scrolled through your phone.

‘Just text one of us’. Sure, that could’ve been useful if it wasn’t three in the morning and everyone was asleep by now, with their phones either on silent or turned off for good measure. Everyone is offline for now, everyone, except one, you noticed. Aqua, apparently, is still wide awake, and has been online for the last thirty minutes. with a few sleepy thoughts, you decided to bite the bullet and text him.

Y/N: hey

Y/N: can’t sleep either?

God. That was a cringey line. You hissed a bit at your own horrible conversation starters. You only hoped he doesn’t ignore your text so you’d just awkwardly delete it by the next morning. Luckily enough, he’s seen the message, and soon little bubbles appeared on your phone.

Aqua: No.

Aqua: I’m not even home yet.

Oh shit. Was your home that far from his? You felt really bad now.

Y/n: oh :(

Y/N: is your place far?

Aqua’s typing, and you’re patiently waiting for his reply by watching the TV again. Seeing how many fake smiles he puts on this show, you find yourself prideful in finding a true one tonight. Yet, a piercing fear soon latches on your pride, and you quickly look around in every direction, feeling the familiar watchful eyes. Though it was small, just like how it was at first, you can slowly feel it building up, and for a moment, you wonder if this is just your paranoia. You gulped. Your phone buzzes.

Aqua: No. I just didn’t feel like going home right now. I like taking walks near the park at this time.

You look at your phone. The feeling pierces you. you look up. it fades away. you rinse and repeat, and with every drop of paranoia, your heart becomes an ocean of fear. You try to ignore it. it must be your imagination. There is nothing here.

Y/n: ohh that’s cool.

Y/N: wish I had the confidence to do that all alone lol. I get pretty scared when I’m alone.

A loud noise erupts beside you and you flinch. You frantically look around, only to realize it was just the shocked gasp and overly edited slap sound of that infamous scene with Akane. You grumble at yourself.

Aqua: It’s pretty easy to do when you’re mind is somewhere else entirely. Usually, people make playlists for such occasions.

At least Aqua’s texting is helping you distract your mind from that fear. You smile a bit.

Y/n: ‘usualy people’?? what do you do? just accept the atmosphere?

Aqua: No.

Aqua: I just think there a lot.

Y/N: lmao nerd.

Aqua: You’re not funny.

Y/n: emo nerd.

Aqua: still unfunny.

Y/n: I should make you an emo song. Do you by chance like my chemical romance??

Aqua: Blocked.

You snicker, and a feeling of ease washes over you as you lightly bully him more. Though in five minutes the feeling of fear started to soothe down, it was now increased with a chime of a notification, and a message left you still and frozen.

The name was just a phone number, one completely unknown to you. the text being as mocking as it could be by asking you,

XXXXXXXXXX: do you watch reality shows often, Y/n? you don’t seem like the type.

Worst part was, that it was on your normal messenger app, one usually used to get some dumb advertisements and bank account info. Whoever this guy was, they knew your phone number. It made you even more sick, and you quickly blocked them. Your breathing heightened a bit as you finally got up from your couch and clicked on every light switch in the house. With thoughts on where they could be plaguing your mind, you rush to the kitchen, grabbing the sharpest knife you can and clutching it as your life depended on it- because in fact, it did. And that makes you feel even more hopeless.

Your phone chimes again, and unfortunately, it wasn’t Aqua. a new phone number, again, one you don’t know. The text made you want to hurl. To scream and tell whoever they were to get out and show themselves before you force them out.

XXXXXXXXX: That knife won’t help you

Fucking hell. Shit.shit shit shit— your breathing became ragged. Your mind started spiraling all over the place with thoughts on where they could be. In the closets, the vents, the cupboards behind you—

You open them. Nothing’s in there. you take a deep breath to calm down. It fails miserably. Should you call the cops maybe?—

Your phone buzzes

Aqua: did you fall asleep on me?

Oh thank god- he’s still awake. You get up, knife on the kitchen table and inches away from you as you quickly type.

Y/n: Aqua

Y/n: oh my god the stalker is real

You take a screenshot of the texts and send it to him.

Y/n: I don’t know what the fuck to do

Y/n: should I call the police????

Y/n: I’m home alone rn. But I keep feeling like someone’s watching me.

You wonder for a moment, that if you texting him this seems desperate and uncalled for. Your mind quickly berates you for that. This could be life or death. It’s a potential kidnapping we’re talking about- though, then again, why not just call the police- but he did say to text anyone if anything happens- that included him, right?- Of course it did, you think. Aqua at the moment is the only awake person you can trust right now. Maybe. Maybe not. Oh god why are you thinking about this so much-

Aqua: No. don’t call them. The stalker might get away.

Y/n : ????? that’s exactly what I want to happen???

Aqua: if they get away they’ll just target someone else. Stay put, don’t freak out.

Y/n: don’t freak out??? Aqua??? I’m??being???stalked??? they know where I live????? they’re watching me RIGHT NOW????

In your small conscious part remaining, you wonder if you’re freaking out a bit too much. But at the moment, your hands are shaking, and you can feel yourself at the very brink of a mental breakdown. You think you might die, or something even worse potentially happening.

Aqua: I know.

Aqua: just trust me please.

Aqua: I’m on my way right now.

Aqua: I’m not too far.

A sickening notification pops up.

XXXXXXXX: why are you crying?

Huh? Crying? Since when did you-

They send a picture of your crying, the perspective seeming zoomed in through the window of your house.

You fall silent, now noticing the teardrops that dribbled to your thumb, all coming down from your eyes like a wave. At this point, your body was shaking as if the room had been chilled to the bone. Your heartbeat has gotten so loud you can’t even think. You slowly turn your head to the window, and fall in despair over the empty displays of the buildings right next to you.

Y/n: Aqua

Y/n: If I die

Y/n: I’m going to fucking haunt you

Your sniffles have become louder, and you couldn’t help but just clutch your phone and knife for dear life as your eyes scan every corner. The feeling is still there. the prickling, needle-like sense of eyes watching your every flinch and tear. It felt like you were an object, like you were made to be in terror for this sick person’s amusement. All you could do now is hum your favorite lullaby and hope to dear life that it’d calm you down and you won’t die tonight.

Then, it happened. A familiar footstep slowly trudged near your door. A familiarity you never even knew it even existed. It’s the same almost quiet steps, one taken with such slow and meticulous planning, that you’d almost think it didn’t exist, that it was all just your imagination. For a long time, you thought it was. For months, you were sure it was all in your head, that these strange tip-toed footsteps and piercing gaze is merely your anxiety knowing your mind. But it wasn’t. dear god it wasn’t. the person behind that door was your stalker. Your heart is racing badly. You gulped, and a few broken breaths of gasp and tears spilled down more. You clutched the knife for dear life. Tonight was your doom.

Three knocks bang on your door. “Y/n? “ the voice, soothing yet cold, makes your senses fall down and your breath hitch. “ it’s me, Aqua.”

Quickly, with no time to lose and a gasp of relief, you get up from your seat and scramble to open every lock you put on the door. When it opens, you’re met with an out of breath Aqua, as if he ran all the way just to get to you, yet you see no sweat on his forearms or face. But that didn’t matter to you, all that mattered was that you weren’t alone. You’re safe. Safe here. with Aqua.

“Have you been crying?” his question goes unanswered. You just look at him with more tears threatening to fall down. Your breath hitches and you break into sobs. All the shock and fear leaves your body quickly, leaving aftershocks of emotional turmoil and pain. You hug him, and you don’t know why exactly you do. it was probably from relief, from the thought of not dying tonight. But you wreak in the sobs like there’s no tomorrow as you clutch his black hoodie for dear life. Your mind is in shambles, so it doesn’t cross you odd that he hadn't gone home, yet had a complete wardrobe change now. The only thing you cared about was that he was here, and the stalker wasn’t. or at least, the stalker won’t appear. Not when he’s around.

Slowly, Aqua hugs you back. he holds you tight and lets you make a mess of tears and sniffles on his hoodie as he tries to calm you down.

“I’m here now. There’s no need to be scared.”

Right. He’s here. and when Aqua’s here, you don’t feel that gaze on you anymore. As if it faded away entirely. When he’s here, you feel relieved.

He really is just like a prince charming.

-----

It’s been two weeks since that accident, and due to it, you found yourself now living with the B-Komachi team all in the same apartment.

Aqua said he checked all the streets and alleyways around him after he called Ms.Saitou that night, telling her to drive him back into their home now for safety. Saitou convinced Aqua to contact the police as well, so they could send an investigator to be on the case. You don’t know how much evidence they’ve found for now, but from how frustrated Saitou looked these days, you can guess things weren’t going well.

“I win again!”

“What?! But I was almost first place!! You definitely cheated-“

“Ruby, did you forget I stream for a living? Obviously, I have good skills in these games-“

“still!! I was so close to winning that one…”

-“Could you two be quiet for a minute? I’m trying to memorize my lines here-“

“Then go to another room!”

“The other rooms are too cold to sit in!”

“Then take a blanket with you.”

“No way, I’d get sleepy.”

“You’re just scared of being alone, aren’t you?”

“W-what?! N-no! Obviously not!”

You sigh, unable to concentrate on yourself now from the commotion going on behind you. you close your laptop and put it on your blanketed lap, putting on your earbuds and hoping that the girls’ enthusiasm over living together dies down in the next weeks at least.

Living with B-Komachi has become…well- as best as it could be. It’s not like they were bad people- of course not. And you all got along well too. But the whole ‘almost dying and fearing for your entire life’ thing that happened less than a month ago has left you pretty on edge lately. You can’t bring yourself to write anything or even do anything ever. The only thing you made was a small lyrics drabble, but it was so bizarre and different from other songs you made for them that you just abandoned the whole draft. Honestly, right now all you desire is an eternal nap and an unlimited supply of your favorite songs (or as unlimited as they can get, though Spotify has been really annoying you these days with its ads).

You want to be excited about this, to bond more with the girls and get a better understanding of who the group is and what music fits them best, but you can’t bring yourself to do it when everything feels so new and nauseating to be around. You were used to being alone, to having your parents leave on work trips on a daily and having a senseless quiet takeover of the room. having another presence in the house, and the presence being as loud as their group is, was not really helpful in getting accustomed to this new setting Ms.Saitou assured would only be a ‘one week’ thing. A precaution was just made to make sure the ‘Ai’ incident doesn’t occur again.

It was weird enough how easily Kana and Memcho accepted this situation and Kana’s parents even gave the green light, but it was even more shocking that your parents didn’t even call to check on you and just gave you a lousy text of ‘hope you’re okay’.

How they even gave permission for you to stay here was bad too. They didn’t even know you worked for Strawberry Productions- how on earth were they okay with you staying here? did they not care for you that much?

Sure, it was you who had to accept it anyway- and you did, because at this point, there was nowhere else to go. Living with your parents would only lead to depressing moments, since conversations with them always felt like speaking to a stranger rather than your own family- and relatives? Out of the question. the ones you favor are way too far, and the ones that are close aren’t near enough to your school and work.

The more you thought about it, the more your frown deepened and you buried yourself into your blanket, one of the few things you brought with you from the apartment, and one that gives you a little ounce of comfort in this unknown area.

“hey,” a shadow looms over you, and you don’t even turn around to see who it was. It was obvious from their voice. Determined, bit bossy, yet kind and well-meaning. Kana has always been the one you were closest to around here. although, that's not really saying much, since you have that feeling only because you’ve been classmates in the past, but have never spoken a word to each other. “give me some space.” She said, almost in a demanding tone- but you knew her intentions were from the immense kindness she possessed. a kindness that could be a blessing and a curse, one might argue. You tuck your legs in and scooch a bit deeper into the couch’s back, giving enough space for Kana to sit down and look at you with her intense gaze. “How are you holding up?” The question made you feel numb.

“meh.”

Her eyes squinted in slight annoyance at your response, though, you could see the underlying worry in it. “ I’m serious.” She huffed. “ it’s fine if you still feel pretty shitty. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

“so do you feel shitty?”

'Do you feel shitty?' is an amusing, yet mind-pausing question. do you? do you feel like an absolute fucking tired and exhausted and in need of a slumber of death kind of person right now? Well, to them, you probably look the part now, don’t you? Dressed in the most comfortable clothes you had, doing none of your school work, barely doing any music work and drowning yourself in your biggest comforts while dissociating from the world around you.

“I…maybe?” your voice breaks to one of confusion. “ I don’t know what I feel,” you move around a bit, your neck feeling a bit cramped from the twist it had to remain in just to see her. “ I don’t know what to feel. “ you sighed.

“It’s just that— well…” you stay silent for a moment, collecting your thoughts, then you speak again. “It all just happened so fast…I don’t know what to process first or last. Actually, I’d rather not process anything at all.” You turn your neck around, freeing it from its frustrating twist and now looking at the ceiling. “ I just wish I could forget it. because deep down, I know this isn’t a one-time thing.”

“hm? What do you mean by that?”

You look at her blankly for a moment, thinking perhaps you should shut your mouth and not explain further, afraid that it’ll lead to more fear growing and breaking the calm atmosphere this apartment has despite its dark reasoning for even being occupied with idol residents at the moment. You can still hear Ruby and Memcho fighting over who gets to be player one on the game they're playing, your songs, though now white noise to your conversation, still give you a sense of peace. You’d rather hold these small threads of positivity rather than prick and destroy them one by one. Unfortunately for you, Kana Arima is a professional actress first, Idol second. And as part of her career, she has studied the human expression and it’s changes for years on end. She’s enhanced her skills, skills that easily surpass your observant ones. Just like you, she can sense the fake smiles of Aqua, she sees the stress that lays behind Saitou’s shoulders, and she absolutely can see the blank look you give her being one of conflict and hesitance. She furrows her eyebrows at you and crosses her arms.

“Hiding all the bad things and keeping it to yourself won’t fix the issue.” She started scolding you as if you were a child, her little sibling she’s trying to give a good life lesson to. “Like it or not, you’re a part of the B-Komachi team. It doesn’t matter if you’re on stage or behind the scenes. It’s your songs that people enjoy. This whole stalker thing should be enough proof for you to realize how valuable you are to this team.”

“—Kana, we don’t even know why the stalker had me as a target in the first place— it could’ve been the same old creepy gross guys who follow high schoolers.”

“Still,” she urged. “Hiding your feelings and digging them down won’t help. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

You take a glance at her, and only see a face of understanding. However, there was a tint of red on her cheeks, and her eyes looked like they were far back in memory lane. It’s then you remember her huge crush on Aqua that's gotten crushed by the reality TV debacle. Even though that relationship didn’t last, purely because it was a fake one anyway, it seemed to have stung a lot for her.

You hesitate, though come to the conclusion that what you’ll say might help with the strange situation you’ve all been cast in. After all, the last time you’ve spoken about things, you’ve survived a potential murder.

“I feel horrified.” You gulped. “ I keep— I keep feeling like this isn’t the last time I saw that stalker- it wasn’t a first time either. Something about the way they texted…the way they watched me was so oddly familiar.” You started fidgeting with your fingers out of stress, completely avoiding her gaze now. “so I’ve been thinking— and I-I know this sounds crazy but- I never walked back home after school, I always headed to the Strawberry Production building, and after my work’s done I head back home…and honestly? I never had that sense of being watched when I was walking out of school…only when I was heading back home from work I felt it— I guess- what I’m saying is-“

“You think the stalker might be working in the agency, right?”

“Y-yeah pretty much” you sighed. It felt like you were disobeying something, disrespecting a rule by accusing the very agency and team that is offering you protection. “ sounds pretty crazy, right?” you joked, desperately trying to lighten the mood. “I might be losing my mind.”

Kana is quiet. Unusually so. Her gaze remains stuck on the ground beneath you as she pouts in thought.”…you might be on to something there.”

“Wait- seriously?”

“I mean- you said it yourself.” She reasoned. “ the only time you felt like the stalker was near was when you got out of the building- and this all started happening when you joined the team in the first place, so this leads to one conclusion—“ she finally looks back up at you, a perplexed frown on her face and eyes that seemed filled with the same fear you feel. “ the stalker is someone inside the agency- specifically someone working with B-Komachi.”

You wanted to continue the conversation, to perhaps lead to a few suspects or at the very least a few key clues you could give to the detectives later, or maybe even, just investigate the whole thing yourself since they didn’t seem to be doing much. But as you were going to speak, the front door opened and everyone’s eyes quickly went to the bags of takeout, and the meticulous blonde who was holding onto them.

“They only had one can of strawberry soda left.” He said, not understanding the war he was about to erupt.

“DIBS!!!!” Ruby’s war cry was followed with screams of NO!!, soon Kana chased after her and left you and Memcho to quietly look at each other and mourn the peace that was in this building for less than half a day.

----

Emptied-out sodas and cardboard, oil-drenched baskets of food are left for you to pick up for the night. With the B-Komachi’s starry idols all napping soundly on the couches, too tired to even go back to their rooms to sleep, you and Aqua are left to pick up the mess from today’s banquet.

You would go to a giant bear nap too if it weren’t for the fact that you were rotting in bed all day, then relocated to the couch when Memcho urged you to get out of the room for once in a while. For Aqua, however, you really can’t find a reason. Other than the feeling of obligation and responsibility as an older brother, that is.

“Are you done with the trash?” he quietly whispers out. you nod, closing up the black plastic bag with your palm and walking up to the small kitchen where he was, mopping up some traces of food you could barely see in the dot.

“Thanks for helping.” You whispered back, done with your last task and sitting on one of the chairs. “ you really didn’t have to.”

Aqua merely shrugged, the broom that was in his hand now placed in the small corner of the place. “ it was nothing.” Was his only response, right before he surprisingly enough, took out a chair and sat across you. he looks at you with a focused gaze- one completely different from the underlying sympathetic gaze Kana had. “how are you feeling?”

Frankly, you were a bit tired from constantly hearing this question, but you can understand why they keep asking it. not everyone comes out of a situation like this fine, or even unscathed. truth is, you feel terrible. You feel far more than shitty ever. You just want to wake up, to realize this has all been a creepy dream made up by your brain as punishment for the lack of sleep you keep giving yourself. Alas, no matter how much you blink or how muh you sleep now, you wake up in the same place. The new unfamiliar apartment and the uneasy feeling.

This is the first time Aqua directly speaks to you after the incident, first time after seeing you sob on his shoulder like you saw your life flash between your eyes. It feels awkward, to say the least. You can’t help but avoid his gaze, too embarrassed and vividly remembering the way you held onto him that night. God dammit- how does he easily affect people this much?! He barely does anything, he’s not even flirtatious or teasing, yet, his words and sincerity are so raw and real, it makes people, and unfortunately even you, swoon.

“fine. I guess.”

“good.” Unlike Kana, Aqua doesn’t pry much longer. He doesn’t try to spill information out of you. why that reason is, belonged to either his way of interrogating being different, or the fact that he was there in the moment, and knows that you are in fact, not fine. “ have you made any new songs?”

A bitter taste forms in your mouth, feeling disappointment reek into your bones from your own laziness. “just some lyrics.” You muttered ashamed. Yet Aqua didn’t criticize, nor did he pressure you to work more. Rather, he asked if he could look at the work, and so you booted up your laptop and gave it for him to scroll. Usually, the first people who get to give an opinion on the work is B-Komachi’s idols themselves, then you approach Aqua to give a fan’s perspective of the work. So, to simply put, you were feelign quite nervous about the whole new ordeal, praying to the universe that you haven’t goofed up or messed up a word in the lyrics. Aqua doesn’t flinch, barely even blinks as he intently reads your newest work. It’s quite cute, how he gets so serious when it comes to idols. A little creepy yes- but still quite nice, since he never really seem interested in much anyway. Even towards his career, he seemed quite bored of it. yet with Idols and their songs, and specifically and weirdly enough, how they give hope to younger fans, he seems quite determined and entranced by it. at your first week working, he once told you that ‘the first hope in a fan ignites when they hear song resonating with them’. You never quite understood that, since all the songs you’ve heard from idols have been about hope and trying hard, but you always found those words to be just empty lies. A little motivator as white noise when you’re working to the bones for a dream that is impossible to achieve. To you, one doesn’t just ahcieve success by sheer hard-work. Usually, all you need is luck and money. Despite that ideal, look at where you are now. Gone from a small composer just sending songs online as a hobby to a full-blown career. Maybe , sometimes in the world all you need is hard-work.

Something about that makes you feel weird.

Aqua leans away from the blaring lights of the computer, his eyes that were glued to the screen now glancing at you. you shift awkwardly for a moment, feeling your heart beat rise up as you ask the haunting question. “thoughts?”

He looks back at the computer again, then at you. his eyes were so deep in thought that for an anxious moment— you think that he might trying to formulate his harsh critcism in the nicest way possible—

“I think it’s amazing.”

You look at him bewildered. A sense of pride slowly grows in your heart, but you urge him with your expression to continue.

“it’s…well it’s not really B-Komachi’s style at all- but in terms of your skills- it’s the best thing you’ve made yet.” Your look is enough shock to urge him to continue. “ it feels more..like you than B-Komachi. You wrote this from the heart and it shows.”

“…huh, I never really thought of it that way..” you think back on the lyrics, remembering the undertones of worries each line had about the costs of stardom- something that was meant to be about reaching high like a star has become a criticism of such a possibility- just like Aqua said, it’s a song not fit for B-Komachi’s thoughts, but yours instead.

“ it’s moving.” Aqua said, with a normal tone and unmoving expression, yet also with eyes looking back at you with such strong wielded boldness, he comes off serious. “ it feels like I’m looking at thing in an idols real perspective rather than the perception they show for the fans.”

“so…It’s stupidly edgy and I need to scrap it?” you huffed out, now criticizing every line you wrote within your mind.

Aqua’s eyebrows furrow, his eyes look at you with frightening intimidation. “I want you to keep writing this.”

“woah, ok there bad boy,” You tried to shrug off the fear that jumped on your shoulders. “ why are you so serious about this?”

He takes a moment to answer, only starring at the laptop screen before him, scanning the lines once more as he speaks. “I’ve seen how you work.” For a moment, his comment comes off as jarring, until you remember the night he stayed with you till late night for the group walk. “ you often start working on a song for hours, but halfway through you get scared and give up on it. no matter how good it is, you listen to it so much that you suddenly start seeing flaws in it and you start from scratch one more time.”

Feeling embarrassed, you quickly defend yourself. “I just wanna make sure it’s catchy even by the tenth listen- it’s how you keep making fans come back for more.”

“No, you do it because you’re a perfectionist.” Ouch. That one stung a bit. “ you have so much anxiety over your work not being good enough that you don’t stop until you’re completely satisified with it.”

“W-well— well…uh…!” you desperately try to find excuses, anything that could change his mind, but you fall short, and are left speechless at his straight to the point remarks which have left a considerable stinging damage to your pride and heart.

“keep working on this.” He closed your laptop, the dark engulfing his face and the atmosphere. He glances back at you, and in this dark, barely lit by the street lights and silent room, you see a certain sincerity in his eyes that Aqua would’ve never show in broad daylight. Aqua has always been sincere, he’s always been honest, but it was only ever visible through his actions rather than expressions. Having the Aqua Hoshino, infamous for being incredibly quiet and dry, show this level of care and volume through his starry pupiled eyes was a miracle in itself. Him laughing? That was like peaking mountain Everest, now him showingf you another vulnerability? One that, you’d guess a guy like him would see as unnecessary for him to ever even express having, show it to you? my god, it’s like you’ve travelled the galaxies.

“you don’t need to start over again.”

“…never knew you cared that much about my health.” Your gaze doesn’t look into his, fearing you might get emotional from it.

“why wouldn’t I care?” Aqua gazed away as well, trying to avoid you seeing his face. “…I care for you.” he then quickly added, “everyone in B-Komachi does.”

You frowned, your heart was rested in confusion, and the midnight hours and daily oversleeping has left you with a mix of emotions you couldn’t comprehend. “..it feels weird.”

“what does?”

“…you guys caring.” You hesitantly answer. A lump latched onto your throat. “..I never really…felt that before, you know?like-“ you become silent for a moment, organizing your thoughts into comprehensible sentences, and Aqua patiently waits, like he always does. “— I-I had my parents feeding me and all that, but, I never really felt like…they did it out of love, you know? it always….” You fell short, unsure of how to finish the sentence. Yet Aqua finishes it for you.

“it always…feels like they do it out of responsibility, rather than love.” There was something about his tone, something about how his shoulders hunched, and his gaze was latched to the table. How his fists clenched into a grip. It was like he’s been through this as well, that he’s felt this too. For a moment, you wonder what his father was like. Or how Ms.Saitou perhaps has treated him due to her packed up work schedule.

“Exactly.” A sigh comes out from your lungs, and a heavy weight gets back in it instead. "you know…sometimes- I keep thinking about…—” your lungs felt full, and you wanted to throw up. the stab wound that was left on your heart started throbbing in pain.

“ ..I keep thinking about how fucking funny it is-“ you couldn’t help it. couldn’t help but let the well of emotions you had bottled up all inside of you slowly drip, spill and quickly leave like small little teardrops almost coming out of your eyes, making the world look as blurry as ever.,and you choked on your laugh a bit. “ that Kana cared more- Ms.Saitou cared more- and you, cared more than my parents ever did.” Before you knew it, your tears were slipping.” My parents didn’t even call me yet. It’s been days after the incident and they still haven’t called me. y-yet— everyday, Ruby tries to distract me with different activities- Memcho keeps trying to help with my homework- and—“ You weren’t sure what made you sob like this. Perhaps it was your mind finally breaking from the exhaustion, or maybe it’s all your pent-up emotions now blowing up in rage. Whatever it was, it’s making you sniffle and hiccup as quietly as you possibly could muster. For a moment, you’re embarrassed and ashamed from the fact that this is your second time crying buckets when you’re with Aqua. you wonder if he’s cast a spell on you, or maybe it’s just pure instinct to be so trustful of him and easily show your vulnerability to him. in some part of you, you feel like he understands you. he gets what you’re going through and knows of it’s hardships. The hardships of neglect, of loneliness, and the fear of failing the expectations loved ones set out for you.

Aqua doesn’t speak. He’s completely quiet as you hold back your hiccups and try to stray away the depressing thoughts in your mind. He gets up, walks closer to you and then opens his arms as an offer for a hug. One that you quickly accept, wrapping your arms around his back as he does with you. it’s just like last time, yet, in this one, his hug feels different. Rather than having a relaxed form and giving you access to leave if you want, his arms put you in a lock, tightly holding onto you for dear life as you cry on his shoulder and try to escape in its comforts.

He gives you no access to leave, no way of leaving the hug he’s set you on. if your mind wasn’t so riddled, you’d be a bit perplexed and scared of that idea, but you aren’t thinking straight, not when you’re with him. right now, all you want is to have someone-anyone- who could be here for you and become a shoulder to cry on and listener to whine to, and shockingly so, Aqua has become the perfect person for it.

“….you need a break.” He mumbled, his chin resting on top of your head, eyes in deep thought. “Being stuck here for so long is only making your mental state worse.”

“I-I don’t think a day outside is going to help much,” you speak through a sniffle. “ and what if the stalker’s still out there? it’d put the whole team in danger.”

“the stalker won’t show up if it’s somewhere public.” He loosens up his hold a bit, and you lean away to look up at him. “there’s actually an amusement park's opening that’s happening tomorrow.” He brought up, and his conversation and your emotional blurriness of a mind is enough for you to not realize how close you two are, inches away and looking like a married couple. Yet he, ever the cool-headed, doesn’t seem to mind the position at all. “there’ll be plenty of people there to stop any sort of kidnaping or crime happening. We should go there. it’ll help brighten your mood and quell a bit of your fears.”

“We?” you raised a brow. It was a question you’d quickly regret, since Aqua’s face flinched a bit and he looked away ashamed.“…sorry- you can obviously go by yourself—“

“oh no nonono-!!! I didn’t mean it like I don’t want you there!-“ you spoke a bit louder than intended, a huge amount of self-cringe now stuck on your heart from asking stating your question in the worst way possible. “I just thought you might be busy- since you have that whole full time variety show job going on.” you looked down embarrassed. Somehow, meeting his gaze is so difficult. Especially at the dawn of midnight, where human emotions, even as controlled as Aqua’s, can pour out easily in one’s eyes. You fear that he might see your small affection for him, how you’ve grown close to the stoic, multiple fanclub having actor.in a moment of sleepy haziness, you gulped, fiddling with the hem of your clothes as you mutter, “I’d actually love to go with you.”

“…”

“….”

Quiet. It’s incredibly, and agonizingly silent. Your mind is screaming in terror and rage over what you’ve just muttered and he obviously fucking heard since your fucking inches away and oh my fucking god Y/n you fucking idiot you idiot you fucking dumbasss oh my goood-

You bite the bullet and slowly look up to see his, what you would assume would be weirded out or awkward expression. Yet, that’s not the case at all. rather, he’s blushing. And he looks a bit irritated with that. His hands are shaking a bit, trying to slowly go up to hide his face from you, but he doesn’t know you’re looking at him yet. That you’re seeing this evident red blush on his face once more, and the embarrassed pout he has. His gaze is far away from yours as he keeps thinking quietly, believing that you’re quietly looking away from his too.

You’re in awe. You feel like butterflies are stuck in your stomach. Your heart is in less depressive disarray and rather, it’s in an exciting mess instead. You don’t know what you should do now- or even how clearly he likes you back or perhaps, is just really flattered by what you have said. Maybe even- he’s completely embarrassed. God, Aquamarine Hoshino always keeps you guessing.

He looks back at you with widened eyes and a small gasp, his sharp mind now noticing that you have seen his embarrassed face. His hand instinctively comes up to hide it, but he knows it’s too late. He can’t help but stray away from your gaze. His starry pupil was shining once more.

“uh….” You want to die from embarrassment, but you push through it and try to not speak in the shakiest dumbest voice ever. “ so…are you free?” you weren’t sure if you wanted him to say yes or no, you’re unsure of how badly he’ll reject you, or how much coldness there would be when he begrudgingly says yes, but you hope to dear god that it’d be as less damage inducing to your heart than you believed it would be.

“it’s a weekend, so yes.” To that, you gave a sigh of relief. Muttering a ‘cool’ before going back to an awkward silence. You felt something tug your fingers, and you soon glanced and realized it was Aqua’s fingers slowly inching closer to yours, yet not doing any movement to intertwine them. As if he was waiting for your permission for such a step. You’re certain you look absolutely embarrassing right now, because the butterflies and jitters of lovestruck and glee you feel is coursing through your veins, and you’re desperately holding back yourself from smiling in pure giddy. You slowly intertwine your hands with his, hearing your heartbeat louder than ever.

Aqua clears his throat, and you hope he’s not looking at your dumbstruck face, but you can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. “..I’m glad you like spending time with me,” he mumbled. A squeeze was giving to your palm, like it was a sign of reassurance. Sign of honesty. “because I like hanging out with you too.”

You were going to pass out. You were speechless, mind processing every little word and action he’s done up until now, desperately trying to understand how he’s gotten you so flustered this easily. You truly don’t know what to say, but rather than remaining quiet and letting a new and worse state of awkwardness set in, you bring your intertwined hands up, and quickly peck his knuckles and release your hold. You don’t even look to see his reaction, feeling your panic rise up from the unthinkable action you’ve just done. You quickly say thank you and bid goodnight, speed-walking as quietly as you could, while trying yo not hit any of the idols who were sound asleep on the ground and completely unaware of what has transcribed in the kitchen.

You want to shut your door as fast as you can, but before you do, you steal one more glance at the kitchen, and see Aqua with a widened, indescribable expression on his face, and the blush redder than it ever was, starring at his kissed hand as if it was a raw diamond from the mines.

You shut your door, and immediately jump and scream into your pillow.

What the fuck did you just do?!

------

Chitters and chatters of the crowd dulled the sound of drums and flutes that was coming from the carnival. children and adults of all ages frolicked at the new park like ants, trying everything and taking pictures at every corner they knew. The animal mascots happily engaged with the kids and played different carnival games with them (all whom were rigged, but when the mascots played they’ve instantly became fair.) the smell of candy and pretzels was invading your senses, and you found yourself craving for cotton candy as you walk by the stalls.

Aqua Hoshino, the man who made you think so much last night that you barely got a wink of sleep in you, yet you’re so nervous and excited about today that you’re thankfully not dying from exhaustion-, is walking beside you. his eyes trail on where your head turns too, and he notices you staring a bit too longingly at the cotton candy cart with a circle of parents and children around it.

“you want something?” he asks, yet you look at him and politely shake your head. You’d rather die than make someone else pay for your cravings, especially something as childish as cotton candy-

Aqua’s eyes squint a bit, and he hums. He leaves your said, walking closer to the pink cart. You frantically follow suit.

“w-what are you doing?”

He gives you a glance before answering. “I’m hungry.”

“oh.” you slow down your pace. “ok then.”

You patiently wait as Aqua waits for his turn, buying one cotton candy and walking ip to you. he takes one bite, and you never knew how strange of an image is to see such a cold guy like Aqua eat sweets, especially since he doesn’t seem to be enjoying it much. You get suspicious, and that feeling only grows when after one slow bite and gulp, he offers the pink fluff to you.

“I can’t finish it.”

“ but you only had one bite?!” you countered.

He merely shrugged. “my eyes were bigger than my stomach, I guess.”

You pout, looking at the cotton candy as if it was a trick lied up by a scummy fox. Yet, it looked so delightful. A pink shade so soft, and a sticky shine to it that left your mouth watering. You begrudgingly take it, looking at Aqua inquiring. “you bought this for me, didn't you?”

Aqua doesn’t answer, because he knows he doesn’t need to. he merely looks at you with a tiny bit amusement in his eyes as he says, “ if you don’t eat it now it’ll melt and your hands will get sticky.”

“oh, are you beckoning Snow White to take a bite of the apple?” with your nervous anxieties treading away slowly, your shyness was melting faster than the cotton candy in your hand.

He rose a brow. “are you saying I’m the evil witch?”

“No, of course not.” You smiled, as if you hit the jackpot. “I’m saying you’re the gorgeous Queen.”

“isn’t that character the same character, though?”

“hm, that is true,” you ponder for a moment, instinctively twirling the cotton candy in your hands. “…then you’re the prince, I guess.” You looked up at him with a grin. “ gorgeous and beckoning. It’s a perfect fit.” You stare at him, looking like you’re a snarky winner, a playboy who won the popular boy’s affection, yet rather than blushing like you wanted him to, he stays silent for a moment, but his mouth keeps shifting- like he’s holding back a smile. He finally breaks, giving you a subtle smirk and looking down at your hands.

“the cotton candy’s falling.”

“the what-“ your eyes quickly widened, looking at your hand and seeing the cloud-like candy being seconds away from hitting the pavement underneath you. in a quick disarray, you regrettably grab the thing with your bare hands, groaning in disappointment, yet still taking a bite of it. you hear a snicker, and look back to see Aqua looking at you with a small smile. If someone told you last month that ‘smiling’ would actually be a common expression of Aqua’s, you’d holler and laugh, yet here you are.

He takes a candy off your palm and eats it. your shock increases, and becomes extremely apparent on your face. He looks at you with a certain competitive glint in his eyes. “ what?” he questions your reaction. “I’m not the Evil Queen I’m the prince, so of course, I wouldn’t give you anything poisonous now, would I?” though his face has become blank, you could hear the hint of giddiness in his tone. “so you should eat what I give you, Snow White.”

Though he wasn’t wrong, a small part of you felt like he was much more serious about his words than he let on. there was something about his tone, an underlying certainty you can’t quite pin well. nevertheless, you trust him, so you take another cotton candy and let it dissolve in your mouth.

Soon after, you quickly went to the bathroom to wash up the last remaining's of the cotton candy, then decide to go on the fastest roller coasters you knew. In every single ride, Aqua either just gave a short gasp from the lack of air or just- quietly held onto his seat with mortified expression on his face. Meanwhile you and other passengers were screaming your lungs out like never before. After the rides, he’d ask you ,with a tinge of plead in his voice, if this is the last one you want to try, and he’d look at you deeply puzzled when you answer no.

After so many rides, exhausted, you take a break at the café as the sky darkens. Aqua insisted on paying, but you managed to convince him to split the bill instead. The small place you chose had their walls filled with drawings of its mascots. Actors and entertainers all frolicked around the place and stole the children's attention. The smell of pizza was engulfing itself in the air, making most customers give in to temptation and order more than just coffee. Aqua left to place the order moments ago, so you were mindlessly scrolling through your phone, trying to silence the loud cries of a four year old sitting across the window in your mind. The light on top of your table leaves a warm aura on your head ever few seconds, and soon, when you see a shadow loom over you, and it’s smell was riddled with smoke, your posture stiffens as you realize it’s not Aqua. you look up, seeing a guy around your own age, dressed in a leather jacket with tattoos riddled on him. not a good sign- but they did say to never judge a book by it’s cover. Though..that snarky smirk on his face, added in with the glint of pride in his black eyes gives you the sudden urge to run and avoid. But, you stay still, and when you see he hasn’t spoken yet, but keeps staring at you, you clear your throat and put your phone down. “uh…may I help you?”

His nose scrunched up, his smirk becoming a grin. You want to die. “ what’s a pretty thing like you doing here all alone?”

You hold back your scowl. Best not to evoke rage in this guy. “ I’m not alone.” You say it clearly. “ I’m actually with a friend right now. he just went to order.” You hoped he’d get the message.

He raises a brow, as if he was challenged to a brawl by a wimpy brave kid thinking they could defeat him. his whole posture screams cocky bastard as he leans a bit down to your level.

“you mean that celebrity blonde over there?” he points to Aqua, whom was waiting in line. he then scoffed. “ what are you doing dating an attention-seeker like him? did you want something exciting to happen?” don’t punch him don’t punch him don’t punch him-

You hold back the urge to pull on his black hair and shove him to the ground. Though, you do give him a disgusted glare. One which he gave an amused one back.

“what? Did I hit it right on the nail?” quite the opposite, actually. This fucker really doesn’t know what he's talking about, and it’s obvious that he’s just trying to cause a scene just to prove something to those friends of his outside the café. You wonder why no security guard has approached them yet. By now, you’re glancing around the crowd hoping for an employee to see your obvious discomfort and usher him out. however, a part of you fears that that’s exactly what he’d want. An attention seeker at heart, he seems like.

Seeing as you gave no response, he continued. “ if you want excitement so much, why not ride along with me and my friends?—“

“—and you are?” the sudden calm voice of Aqua brings relief into your heart. Your head quickly snaps back to him, seeing that he looks rather irritated- annoyed even, by the sudden man’s interruption in your hang out. he gives you a small glance of concern, then his face shifts to one of annoyance once more when he looks back at the guy whose only inches away from you and very visibly making you feel uncomfortable.

“I’m the better guy for them.” You couldn’t hold back your snort.

“I don’t even know you.” you managed to bring up through your laugh. Though- the laughter was more out of stress than amusement. It was a strange amalgamation of both of those feelings.

Aqua takes one more glance at you, his eyebrows furrowed deeper. “ look, you’re making my friend uncomfortable. I suggest you leave before I ask an employee to call security on you.”

The guy seemed to want to quarrel more, to show his ‘superiority’ in some way, but thankfully, the manager quickly came into the picture and asked for the guy to leave. He did, though not without sending a few death glares to Aqua and the people who were ogling at him. when Aqua finally sat down, and the chatters of the people around you started again, you found yourself smiling.

“are you okay?” Aqua asked, his eyes quickly scanning to see if you’re still uncomfortable or maybe even hurt. Only to be left confused when he saw the small smile that was on your face. “seriously, are you okay? Are you having a stroke?”

You felt a giggle bubble up in your chest. “I’m fine.” You grinned. “I’m fine, because you’re here.”

Aqua froze, looking down at the table.it is here you come to the conclusion that Aqua often avoids your gaze when you flirt, as if he’s trying to hide the windows to his soul, to what he’s feeling from your actions and words.

“….you really need to stop saying those cheesy pick-up lines.”

“but you seem to like them!”

“on the contrary, I don’t.” he lied through his teeth, and for an actor, his performance on this was very lackluster. his actions made you feel like a winner.

“for an actor, you sure are a horrible liar.”

He says nothing, and you remain victorious.

-----

With the sky almost pitch black, and the sun no where to be seen, the carnival booths were one of the only light sources through your walk. In the amidst of the loud, shining and overbearing colors of knick knacks and toys between the booths, a certain plushy catches your eye.

“oh my god- there’s no way-“ you couldn’t believe it for a moment, and you didn’t notice the confused look Aqua sent you as you speed-walked to a small booth full of plushies, Through al the teddy bears, fluffy bunnies and kuromi merchandises, there was a small, adorable little Kaito from Vocaloid plushies that absolutely charmed you. it was a mad hatter themed one, all from the iconic hat to the purple-ish zany suit. You see no game set up, which made you conclude that this is just a shop set up through all the booths. A place for anyone to buy a plushie if they just didn’t win anything.

“do you want it?” Aqua’s voice startled you. you looked back at him, glanced back at the beckoning adorable dopey face of Kaito and then gave a look at the price- shit- that’s a lot of money for just one plushie- and then it hit you- this was a limited time one, so with so many small amounts around with this high quality, the price is set high. Dejected, you just shrugged. “I mean- I find it adorable…”

You look at the price again and wince. “…but no I don’t want it that much. "that's a lie. You’d fucking sell your soul for it. “it’s getting late, we should go home.”

Aqua stays silent. You walk a few steps before you notice that he’s not following you. looking back, you see him staring at the plushie for a second too long- then walking right towards you. silence takes over the walk back home, and though it was a comforting one, you didn’t want the hang out to end without you thanking him. yet your words came to a halt as you heard a ‘CLANG!!!’ only a few feet away from you. both of your movements came to a halt, quickly locating where the sound has come from, and seeing a group of teenagers, all dressed in leather jackets, fight off in the dead of night.

“oh shit.” Was your first response, seeing some blonde beat the shit out of a brunette kid. “are they like- a gang?—” you look at it with more curiosity, your eyes widened as you saw a familiar bastard getting his guts punched. “—that’s the guy from the café!”

No response. in a fearful instinct, you quickly shift your head to see if Aqua is even here or not. Much to your relief, he was, yet, there was something different about him. he no longer looked calm, or perplexed as he often does. Rather, his pupils were blown wide, and the white shiny star you saw the whole evening was gone once more. His posture seemed tense- shaking a bit even. He looks at something across the road, and he finally speaks.

“there are multiple bikes over there there. it must be theirs.” Oh, so they’re a bike gang. You wanted to take a glance at the bikes too- yet the sudden shout of pain from the brutal fight stole your attention. You could see specks of blood now. You gulped.

“should we call—“ a sudden strong grip takes your wrist. You flinched, looking at the perpetrator being an extremely different Aqua from who you’ve shared cotton candy with only hours ago. He looks at you with furrowed brows, and eyes you could only describe as vicious. As if he was ready to pounce on someone and rip them apart. You feel your breath shorten a bit, an uncomfortable weight set on your shoulders, and your wrist going red from the sheer grip he has on it, like handcuffs made of the heaviest metal.

“Y/n,” your name comes out of his mouth like a threat, his tone like a demand. “ we have to go. Now.” He doesn’t even let you reply. Doesn’t even let you take one more pause before leaving. He drags you away to an alleyway, empty and much more horrifying than the gang fight you just witnessed. You try to keep your cool, though your heart is beating up a storm and your mind is screaming for you to escape. Aqua Hoshino looks different. He feels different. His grip, with the gentle palm of his, feels like death itself. You could see your wrist bruising, and could feel your eyes tearing up. his eyes are cold. In the past, they’ve merely looked dead. As if he was repressing everything he felt. But it’s not the same here, rather, his feelings here are as clear as day, the feelings of malice and distrust, dark thoughts that you can’t guess the concept of. You feel sick, and you’re not sure why. It’s still Aqua- right? He's just being paranoid…right? why does this feel awfully familiar? Why does his footsteps give you a sense of déjà vu?

You didn’t like that thought. Hell, you didn’t like thinking about anything right now. You gulped, hoping it would dim down your fear, yet it only increased it.

“Aqua.” your voice shakes a bit and you hiss. “Aqua—I think we’re far enough now-“

Nothing. No answer, not even a hum like always. The only thing you get is mutters too whispered for you to comprehend it's words. Which only fueled more of your fear. “Aqua please—“ you try to stop your legs from moving, yet he dragged your wrist, making you yelp from the sudden pain. “fucking hell Aqua—“

“Aqua!” you put all your strength to come to a halt, and you try shake your wrist away from his grip. Fear takes over your mind when you find no escape from it.

He seems to be in a trance, too in his own mind to even hear your pleads. You felt like you lost- and when he tries to drag you to walk faster- the grip practically ripping your wrist apart- you couldn't help but scream.

“Stop it! “

All walking and scraping comes to a halt. Your wrist is freed, and you give a cry of relief as you pull your hand close and rub the newly purple bruise. You find yourself gasping for air- as if you've been holding back breaths this entire time, and the drums of your heart is so loud, you didn’t realize you were practically shaking from fear. You think for a moment- desperately trying to process what the ever loading fuck has just happened moments prior. And the throbbing pain from your wrist wasn't helping.

You hear a shift- a scrape on the pavement and look up to see Aqua.

His breathing has become ragged, his form shaken up. as if he has witnessed a scene from his nightmares, his eyes are widened and lost. His mouth is shaking, as if he’s desperately trying to form words, yet his mind was so muddled, he couldn’t even bring his voice out. he looks at you with such immense guilt, glances at his own palms with such horror. You almost forget the horrid pain in your wrists. Almost.

“…what the fuck was that?!” your voice shakes. You wanted to kick something- wanted to lay down somewhere and sob- you wanted to punch him in the gut- fucking hell. “what the fuck was that?” you didn’t mean to repeat the question, but your feelings were so out of spiral, your heart couldn’t help it.

Aqua shakes even more.

“Shit.” Aqua Hoshino, kindest guy you’ve known up until now, swears. ”Shit!” he repeats in a cry. He reels in a breath, but he still shakes. he brings him palms up to his face, trying to hide his broken down expression. But, no amount of palms can hide the glossy tears that you see slipping down the pavement.

Shit.

Your mind is in complete and utter chaos now. You’re so confused, yet you don’t even want answers anymore, in fear of what they could even be. You don’t say anything. You can’t bring yourself to. all you can do is watch as the ever-so-calm and poised Aquamarine Hoshino breaks down. You wonder if you should comfort him. your wrist flashes a screaming pain in protest. You purse your lips and hold back a grunt.

“I’m sosorry- I-I didn’t mean to,” his hands come down from his face, revealing to you the absolute sheer panic he’s in. eyes like needles- with his starry on pupil darker and smaller than it ever was. Wrinkles all etched up on his nose with brows furrowed in shame. “Fuck, I'm sorry. I-I messed up.” this was so insane. This was too weird. Too out of character for him. never in your life have you heard this man stutter, or even have such a shaky and broken voice. In a second, your mind wonders if this is all some weird dream. Despite that thought, the cool air of fall shivers down your spine and devastatingly reminds you that this, in fact, is reality. Aqua just bruised your wrist and now is breaking down at the back of an alleyway.

He takes a step close to you. his breathing hitches when you take a step back. he looks at you as if you're the one who hurt him, as if this is more painful to him than it was to you. “Y/n,” your name comes out so softly now. Barely even a whisper. A complete contrast to the brutal one from before. It’s like he has two sides- it’s as if he has a bottle full of emotions he kept shut tight, and now one by one, they’re all spilling out with no stop. “I’m— I’m so sorry,” he repeats through tears. ”I didn’t mean to..!” he hiccupped. He hiccupped. “ I just—….I thought—“ he breaks down again. Exhaustion takes over your mind. You conclude that for tonight, he is obviously not ready to express anything. His mind is warped up with thoughts- memories and ideas that you wish you could see for yourself.so, you do what he has done for you. you walk up to him. your frown was shrouded in disappointment, of a ruined night and a bruising pain, yet your eyes were full of sympathy. You know this was hard for him. apart of you, the softest part of you, knew he didn’t mean to hurt you. though your wrist and mind were practically begging you to quickly leave him, you listened to your heart, like you’ve always had. You bring your hands up to his teary face, and clean the droplets away. he stays still in shock, then fully leans into your touch. He keeps crying, and soon notices the bruise on your wrist, on the very palm he's leaning in. you don't know how, or even why, but he, as gentle as ever, takes your hand by the fingertips, and pulls your hands a bit up, then, gently gives kisses to your bruised wrists as he repeats ‘sorry’.

You, really, really don’t know what to say. You can’t even comprehend if you’re horrified or flustered. Your crush is kissing your wrists, it should be a rejuvenating moment- yet it’s the very wrist he bruised up, the very wrist he kept dragging as if there was a bomb behind you. you merely hitch a breath, letting him do what he can in the disarray he's in. this is all just confusing to him, you try to reason. He’s never had such waves of emotions go through him before, he’s not thinking straight. That’s all.

No matter how much you try to excuse, try to reason or try to process even the smallest second of this strange situation, there’s the inkling of doubt slowly becoming deeper.

You let him sob, and you let him affectionately kiss your wrist better, but you can’t bring yourself to be lovestruck by this. Something feels wrong. Something feels hidden. You want to think deeper about it- but god damn it- the soft kisses are so distracting. They’re so enchanting- he looks straight out of a romance manga. And the soft touches is slowly making you forget the hellish grip he had on you- the strength he secretly bares.

-----

You didn’t really talk to Aqua after this.

Sure, he walked you into the apartment and you bid goodbyes. But that was it. no text, no see you, no nothing. You couldn’t bring yourself to even look at him anymore, afraid you’ll see another Aqua again. Someone different from the real Aqua you knew, and the stoic one you’ve come to see when he's with others. you fear you’ll see the dead Aqua. the vicious one who frets over your safety as if you’re a delicate glass. You've come to wish you’d never see that dead set eyes of his again. You can’t think much about what has conspired. Your mind pretty much blocked out everything, and urged you to just close your bedroom door shut and sink deeper into your bed.

Though, Aqua did try to speak. He did try to text, to call, hell even knocked on your door and asked if he could come in. but you never texted back, never accepted the call nor let him in. you didn’t want to see him, unsure of how much you can handle looking at his eyes without remembering the wincing pain or the hot tears that were on your fingertips. You didn’t process it yet, didn’t give yourself the time to pause and think. Only distracted yourself with the song he urged you to work on. you felt a bit confident for what you've done, realizing you did have some sort of power in your strange relationship, that you’re not completely helpless and prone to get hurt in his very in need of therapy tantrums- but on the other hand- you felt like a completely monster. You let this man show his most vulnerable sides to you, you let him cry on your shoulder, as he let you. but now you’re shutting off all contact with him? you sound like a wacked witch who basks in everyone else's despair. Who only used Aqua for their own ends. You couldn’t handle the guilt, and so you didn’t think about his constant offers to talk to you either- you just worked, slept, ate, and went through it all over again. Only opening your doors at the latest of nights, the girls rarely even saw you come out of your room. Ruby and Memcho took it as you probably having a squabble with Aqua, but Arima, the ever so intelligent and observant, seemed to notice something deeper than that.

Anytime Aqua knocked on your door, it was quickly replaced with Kana confronting him on what happened. She doesn't have that shy tone she always did when around Aqua, and you were almost certain that she didn’t have that soft gaze either. Not with how loud and accusing her voice is through the door. She keeps demanding for an answer, constantly blocking the oath between your door and him, telling him to either explain the situation or stop forcing you to let him in. Aqua always answered the same, he’s not sure if you’re comfortable with everyone knowing, so he won’t share anything either.

You banged your head on your pillow and screamed into it with full rage.

Multiple problems, zero solutions and endless self-hatred. This was becoming unbearable. Not even your most favored hobby, the very thing you made a career out of, is helping you cope through this. Your favorite movies have become dull distasteful garbage you don’t want to see ever again. Your skills have become an amateur's- a complete parody of the song you intended to write. You feel immensely empty, and the constant sleeping has made your head feel heavy, and even sleepier than before.

You really need to talk to Aqua.

But you don't want to talk to Aqua.

But you miss him

But you're scared of him.

You scream into your pillow again.

You can’t get the scene out of your head- the crying, the kisses, the bloody gang fight happening a few feet away- though some dialogue feels blurry, every face of anguish Aqua had is in highest quality in your head.

You can’t even upload the song you were working on anymore- you realized how the tone keeps shifting- from solemn quiet to a hyper song- then quickly into one of jumbled chaos- the lyrics re in no good shape either. They look like lyrics from different song genres all copy and pasted into one draft. You can’t even comprehend what you were trying to write here. A dreadful, slow knock echoes through your door. You don’t have to think twice to know who it was.

“…Y/n, I know you’re mad at me. and I don’t blame you.” his tone made your gut churn in grief. You couldn’t think straight anymore- what were you supposed to do? you still haven’t decided on a thing. You don’t know if you should forgive him, or be the one who asks for it. you wait for him to talk more, count the seconds before Arima barges in the halls and demands Aqua for at least a small clue on what happened. But nothing came. Not even a noise, nor a muttered chatter. The only thing you hear was a sigh, and small shuffling on the ground. After, it was footsteps, each one quieter than the last.

You see a small shadow still looming over the creeks of your door. You try to dig up a few memories- a few personality traits of Aqua’s to guess what it could be behind that door, and if it's worth opening the door for. Your heart stops in a moment of realization, the shadow of a top hat making your frown deepen, and your stomach drop in more pounds of nausea and pity. You wish you could throw up, but nothing comes out of your mouth. You’re ever-so confused, and when you open the door and see the small little Kaito plushie you could feel your eyes water up a bit.

“goddamn it Aqua.” you muttered. Upon inspecting it more, you see a little note inside his pocket, one you don’t remember being there at all. you take it out, fix up the crumble and take a deep breath when you see the words written within it.

Fuck it. you made up your mind. You heard the gate door below you being closed, so with a panic, you rush out of the house, ignoring every confused grunt and question thrown at you by the idols. You put your shoes on as if they’re sandals, you don’t wait for the elevator, and rather run down the stairs as if it were a slide. You hurriedly open the gate door and shut it with a bang.

“AQUA! WAIT!”

the figure merely a few feet away from you stood there frozen. Just like the night before.

Drip drip

Cold little specks of water startled you both. You glance up, realizing the grey mood the sky has been in as well. drip drip, it came down like a song. A beat that soon turned into a melody, small little taps becoming loud serenades and soaking you both.

Aqua turns around to look back at you, but his gaze never meets your eyes. “ we should go back in- we can talk there!” he shouted, walking up to you. “ you’re going to get a cold with the clothes you’re wearing.”

Huh? What's the problem with your- oh, right. one look down and you can see your shirt was completely drenched, and your pants were not warm enough either. A shiver ran down, the cold water now sinking into your body.

“No. we can’t.” yet, you deny it. you stop him from going farther away from you and closer to the entrance. You make him look right into your eyes. “we can’t talk there. it’ll be awkward with the team around.”

“you’d rather stay out in the rain with your pajamas rather than facing some small embarrassing tension?”

“yes.”

He gave a huff, a small laugh that eased a small bit of tension that was between you two. But the amusement died down quicker than a flash, and you were both just staring at each other, waiting for the other to speak.

With the rain acting as your white noise, you collected your thoughts and spoke. “Aqua— I’m so sorry-“ your voice breaks. “you- you had a breakdown right in front of me and I just- I just closed the door at you. I’m so sorry.” you don’t let him cut you off, you grab him by the shoulders, urging him to stay quiet and just listen. “ I got scared, because I didn’t know what to do. I-I got stuck- I kept thinking that whatever I do, it won’t be enough. It won’t help you properly. And I wasn’t sure if I was mad at you for the bruise or-“ Aqua’s face flinched to a pained one from that sentence. “ –I was mad at myself for not saying anything when we got back to the apartment. You don’t have to apologize for the bruise. You..uh..you already did do that right after…so..”

You awaited his response. awaited the insulting words or disappointed tone you’ll get for the cruelty you’ve done to him. but that didn’t come. “Y/n,” how does he always charm you with that soft voice of his? How has he never considered becoming an Idol? For the first time in days, he gazes right into your eyes, making your heart beat quicken. Shining so bright, and so full of sorrow and guilt, his expression was not like one of a prince, nor a bad boy. But a human’s. this was the real Aqua Hoshino speaking to you. with the crinkled up muscles on top of his nose, the mouth with a frown one wouldn’t see on a hot guy’s face in a romcom, and a voice unable to be recorded in studios. “why are you the one apologizing?” he almost laugh, it comes out as a scoff. “ I thought you were going to tell me to never see you again- I-…“ he got quiet, ad just like that night, his thoughts seemed to be quicker than his voice. Quicker than the words that were trying to come out from his mouth. “…I though you were just ghosting me because you were mad at me- yet here you were thinking you’re the one who should apologize?” you can’t describe his expression. it looked like one of lovestruck and guilt, of amazement and amusement, sorrow and sarcasm. “ why are you apologizing? I’m the one who ruined the night.” He sighs, one that comes out like a puff of cloud in the cold rain. “ I don’t know what happened that night. I don’t know why I just-…I....just-…”

“blew up?”

He winced. “yeah, blew up.” he repeated, confirming it to himself.

“Well…” you take his hand in yours, hoping it would provide comfort in the truth bullets you’ll shoot. “Maybe…it’s because you keep constantly bottling up your emotions- and you’ve been doing it for a very long time- and that night when everything was quite overwhelming- your mental stability kinda..couldn’t..handle it anymore?”

He looks at you with horror, as if you’ve just uncovered a murderous secret. A quiet moment passes, and you hope you hadn’t misread and offended him- Aqua chuckled.

“ it’s..really funny.” You looked at him confused, unsure of what that comment even meant. “I mean, scary how you can read people so well..yet you thought I was going to hate you from now on.” you started getting flustered, yet he continued. “ I don’t think I’d ever hate you.” it’s as if a switched has flipped within him- a switch that always clicks to the other side when he's with you. it’s out of his control. His feelings for you is too much for him to handle and organize, and bottle up with the others. it always bursts out, and with it, other feelings stick to them like glue to get out too. “ every time I’m with you..I feel comfortable. I feel happy. I feel like I can be myself for once.” He’s looking at you, however, his mind seemed to be somewhere else. Somewhere deep within his heart, trying to articulate and put his feelings to words. “ that night…I got scared. I kept thinking that those guys were going to hurt you…or that-“ something in his eyes shift. “maybe they were the stalker. I didn’t want them to hurt you and I didn’t want you to get scared..but in the end,” his eyebrows scrunch up in hate. “I ended up ruining the night all by myself.”

“well- I wouldn't say you ruined the whole night…”

“please don’t lie.” He grumbled.

“I’m not lying! I still had a lot of fun.” You squeeze his hand, a sign of reassurance. “ those moments I had with you at the amusement park? Better than any birthday I ever had. Wouldn’t trade it for the world.��

He’s quiet for a moment, squeezing your intertwined hand multiple times like a heartbeat. “me neither.”

You dare to inch a little closer, look at his eyes a bit deeper, get lost in it’s blinding blue. The blue never reminded you of the sea nor the sky. With the very star laid in it’s right iris, it rather reminded you of a galaxy. An infinite space of beauty. Despite the rain being a nuisance on various aspects- you will thank it for one thing- the dampness that Aqua’s hair has faced- the way the strands stick close and an inch away from his eyes, how they fit perfectly with the stage right inside his starry pupil, it makes him look perfect. It reminds you that Aqua is a real person, not an ice prince, or a robot who would yelp at the sight of rain and malfunction. He's not the Aqua he intends to be, but he is the Aqua you’ve grown to adore…that you've grown to…

“Can I say something crazy?”

“you’re in the rain in your pajamas.” He remarked. “ I think you’ve already reached that level.”

“these are not pajamas, rich boy.” You retorted. “these are casual clothes.”

“I’m not a rich kid.”

“your mom owns an entire agency-“

“well-“

“you’re an actor.”

“not-“

“you have multiple fan clubs dedicated to you, have you seen the accounts that come up in twitter when you search your name?”

“..No,” he smirked. “have you?”

Caught in your argument, you choked on your words. “N-no! of course not!- I’m just very unfortunate enough to have them pop up in my for you page since I follow you.”

“…Y/n.”

“yeah?”

“I don’t have twitter.”

SHIT.

Bamboozled and befuddled, and not to mention, stuck in your own tom-foolery, you couldn’t handle the embarrassment and hid your face in his chest. An action of which he gave a hearty laugh too through the shivering cold.

“I won.” He takes his hands out of yours. Before you could grumble about the lost warmth, he wraps his hands around your waist, bringing you closer.

“no you didn’t.” there was no way you were backing down. “ your sister’s also an idol.so by all means, you’re a full on rich kid.”

“don’t use my skills on me, love.” Love. Oh god, the old-school nickname is making your heart skip a beat.

You don’t say anything back, your tongue twisted in shock. All you could do was look at Aqua in the same lovestruck way he was looking at you.

“So what were you going to say?”

You shrug and roll your eyes, but your excitement is apparent, and you weren't really known to be a good actor. “forget it, the moment’s ruined.”

“I’ll tell everyone else that you secretly follow my fanclub’s page.”

“you wouldn’t.”

“I very much would.”

“fine.” You clicked your tongue, shoulders having a bit shakiness in them as you gaze up right into his eyes, head only mere millimeters away from yours.

“I think I like you.” it comes out in a blur, and you’re left to falter with an explanation. “like….a lot.”

The rain wouldn’t stop. It just grew heavier by the second. you’d think the rain would make you two get shelter at some point, but your bodies didn’t comply to the cold. For you, it was warm enough in his embrace.

“I think I love you.” he mumbles. Your hand gets out of his grasp and lays softly on his cheek. Unsure of what to do other than lean into your palm, Aqua, in a fit of passion, quickly asks-

“can I kiss you?”

In a swift second, you close the gap. His clutch around you tightens a bit in pure giddy, and you wrap your arms around his neck in an instant. Warmth was spread all over your body, his cold lips from the weather were still as soft as a cloud and as sweet as a sugarplum. You could feel him smiling in the kiss. You could feel your body jittering up in happiness as the tip toes of your shoes tap the pavement. The warmth he provided, the love he poured, everything he did and everything he is, you adore. You wish you could say I love you back, but your lips were too preoccupied smiling and giggling between kisses with him. there was no shrilling cold, no tapping rain or soaking shirts. it was just you and Aqua, trying to show your love within every kiss.

-----

“HAHA!” a victorious and ever so notorious laugh comes out of Ruby Hoshino. Meanwhile, a very sad Memcho rummages through her pocket for some money. “ I knew they’d kiss! Woah- they’re- they’re not stopping-“ she looks at the scene almost horrified. “uh…ok no this is gross now.”

“ah let them be, it’s young love, after all.” Memcho put the hundred yen on the counter. Soon though, she hissed at her own words. “god..I sound like a thirty year old wine mom…”

“wait- they kissed?! What the hell?!” Arima Kana has been frantic all week. From her almost-kidnapped- friend looking very worse for wear, to her ex-crush acting much colder than before to anyone else- all while her almost-kidnapped-friend came home late with a bruise on their wrist- she was certain things ended really badly between the two. Disastrously, even. All while the two wouldn’t say a thing to her- especially the almost-kidnapped friend whom finally opened up a bit- and she thought the two of them were now one step-closer to a deeper friendship, a strong bond that will last even after she announces her leave with the B-Komachi team.

“told you they'd kiss.” Ruby said, full of pride. “ I’ve been living with Aqua for years. It was obvious that he’s lovestruck.”

Arima didn’t retort anything back. she only looked down at the giddy composer whose surely about to get a cold in worry. Something was up. something felt wrong. Rather than bearing slight jealousy and an urge to tease the newly couple, she only feels danger. A calm before a storm. Something about the gaze Y/n had when they came home late, the way they didn’t ramble on lovestruck like she thought they would. The way Aqua’s words started feeling empty, and his expressions becoming fake. Being an actor has a sort of kinship, a sort of understanding between the community. You can easily decipher when someone’s lying, and can easily understand when a fellow co-worker is acting.

At first, she thought that Aqua was simply acting like a charmer just to make you stick to the team like glue. Quite scummy if you ask her, and admittedly, a very Aqua Hoshino-thing to do. yet, there is something different in the way he acts around you. it’s…a different method. He’s not pulling out words and feelings that are in truth, empty promises and white lies. Rather, he’s hiding a deeper agenda. A deeper agenda she can’t understand. What’s even worse is how happy he looks underneath the rain with you. truly happy. As if there was no lying to begin with, merely a boy trying to act ‘cool’ in front of his school crush.

But something felt wrong.

She cannot point fingers, and she cannot blame anything. But she knows deep in her gut that something is awfully fishy about this. Something feels planned, fabricated. The stalker, the gang fight, the plushie with a note right on your door, it all felt too romantic to be true. Too thought-out. if she were in Aqua’s position, if she were to take on the role of Aquamarine Hoshino in a play, when her beloved would be threatened by a kidnapping or death, wouldn’t she do the Aqua-centric action, and become overly-protective? Wouldn’t she try to live with the group, or give daily visits just to check on her crush, rather than visit every week-end and make them crave her presence? She would’ve quickly gotten her nose deep into the stalker case, and find every strand of hair and fingerprint she could of the culprit, not nonchalantly tell the beloved to go outside with her tonight, on a very busy day, with all kinds of people, and then have the bad-luck get stuck in a gang-fight.

Aqua is hiding something, Aqua isn’t acting like the Aqua she knows, the Aqua she observed and studied for a time. The deeply kind and protective teen who acts like a cold prince with a warm heart. What she fears most, what she hopes isn’t the slightest bit true, is that all of this was intentional.

She frowns. Memcho thinks it’s because she’s tremendously jealous, Ruby thinks it’s because she’s doesn’t have that much luck with boys. But the truth is, she’s just worried for her friend.

She hopes her worries are just for naught.

----

Morning cuddles, pecks on the forehead and ice cream on a winter night. That is how you’d describe what being Aqua’s lover feels like.

Though Arima was highly opposed to him starting to live in the apartment with you all, you still convince him to stay longer than intended, wait for the rain to stop or the bustling streets to get a little less crowdy and oh- would you look at that! It’s midnight! Surely, you can’t go out right now, can you? oh well, sorry Kana. He has to stay for the night. Whoops.

Aqua cuddles with you like it’s the last time he’ll see you. his grip on you is comfortably tight, as if he’s pleading for you to not leave the bed before he wakes up. he’ll never admit this, of course. He’d only excuse it and just say he must’ve had a bad dream, or maybe he wasn’t really acting in a conscious matter. The blush on his face always debunk such excuses.

What you like most about such mornings, is how messy Aqua looks with his bed hair. Strands of blonde tosseled around and tangled in different knots, it takes all of your self-control to not run your hand through them and give him soft pecks to wake him up. you knew he had work today, he needs all the sleep he can get.

Aqua grumbles in his sleep, his voice gruffier than usual. He delves deeper into the blankets, finding solace in the crook of your neck. An action that made you hold back a shocked yelp.

If Aqua was the one laying beside you all the time, you wouldn’t ever try to avoid sleeping. With him, you feel fuzzy, his presence is one of a gentle spring warmth, calming and never harsh on your skin like summers’ warmth is. You feel safe around him, you feel at peace. He seems to understand you so well, you can’t help but just be yourself around him and not feel as if you need to be polite or responsible in a situation. You only wish he feels the same way around you.

With how peacefully he sleeps on your bed, how easily he banters with you or whines and complains about a task he must do, you can proudly (and reassuringly to yourself) say that he is. There’s an understanding between you two, a mutual love and respect for who you are. No one knows that Aqua secretly loves much older games like Sonic the Hedgehog, the very first one- or how he doesn’t understand certain memes and gen Z humor, but he’s too afraid to ask someone about it due to not wanting to be called a ‘boomer’. But you know that. You are the one he confides in about such things. Something about that makes your heart swell in pride.

Sure, not everything was completely perfect. There are times where Aqua’s actions seem more possessive than they are worried. These days, after months of no intel on the stalker situation, you slowly tried to socialize again and meet=up with some old friends. It was both for hanging out and for tutoring sessions, since you’ve been falling behind a little from your studies. When telling Aqua, something in his posture shifted, his eyebrows furrowed the slightest bit as he listened intently on what you have to say.

He interrogated you as if you were a suspect in a murder case. questions about where you were going, what time and what place, and strangest of all, who will be there and who has ha d a as crush on you. you didn’t understand why he was so serious about this, but you figured it was perhaps because he was still iffy about the stalker business, and since he doesn’t know these people he's unsure if he can trust them or not. However, you told him, you know them, and you’re certain none of them would be the stalker, just as you are certain he wasn’t the stalker, either. Therefore, there is no need to worry about that.

Aqua didn’t say anything back. once again, your gut begged you to rethink things over, but you’re so happy, you’re so content, there was no way you’d let this overthinking gimmick ruin your moments with Aqua, so you set them aside, like you have been for the past months.

Besides, it’s impossible for him to be the stalker. He was the one who saved you from the culprit. He was a witness rather than a suspect. A vicitm, even. If there’s anyone you should be suspicious of, Aqua is far from it.

You quickly grumble, hiding your face into Aqua’s shoulders. No no no- do not overthink this. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. You’re fine. You’re happy.

There’s no need to worry anymore.

You hear a loud serenades of bang and chatter happening outside of your door, then it hits you. today was your turn to make breakfast. If you don’t get up now, you’ll be facing an extremely hungry pair of stars and a harsh scolding from their kindhearted yet strong-faced leader. The temptation of staying in bed and given proper warmth and love by Aqua was immense, but you had a responsibility. With a sigh, you let your body bid goodbye to the fluffy bed, all while giving Aqua small little pecks on his face, a common action you both do when the other needs to leave.

“H-Oomph!”

You try to scooch up, to finally leave the bed and answer to the hungry cries of the idols, yet a pair of arms drags you down again. Aqua brings you closer than ever, giving a peck on your forehead.

“Aqua,” your sleepy voice gives you a drawl. You try to clear your throat before you speak again. “ Ruby’s going to kill you and me if you don’t let me make pancakes.”

Aqua’s first response was to grumble. “she’s sixteen. She can handle making pancakes on her own.” You rolled your eyes, yet gave in and snuggled deeper into his embrace.

“but it’s my turn.” You still argued, even though the drowsiness was making your head slowly lull into a deep sleep. “ and you don’t like the way she makes it.”

Aqua’s face scrunches up. “what made you think I’m going to eat her cavity-filled monstrosity of a pancake?” he huffed. “ I’ll just make us breakfast. Five more minutes, ok?”

“but- it’s my turn. Don’t you think it’s a bit unfair that you have to do it?”

He gives you a glance. “do you wanna do it?”

“obviously not.”

He looks at you dumbfounded. “then why are you insisting on this?”

“because it’s unfair if I make you do it when it’s my turn.” You whined, the guilt and procrastinator sides of you now at war.

You hear Aqua chuckle, making you look up and meet his soft gaze. “I’m your boyfriend. It’s normal for me to make breakfast for you.”

Your eyes squint. “ stop trying to rizz me up, Hoshino. We’re already dating.”

Aqua snorts, shifting a bit and poking your cheek. “I’m not ‘rizzing you up’” he repeats like an old man. As if he’s a grandfather desperately trying to fit in with the teens. “I’m just doing what I love.”

You tilt your head. “cooking?”

“no.” he snickered. “spending time with you.”

“oh my god. You’re doing it again. Stop it.” despite your words, your heart was hammering in your chest. “I’ve been your partner for two months, pretty boy. “

“why can’t you just accept that I love doing things for you?”

“because I want to do things for you too.”

“you being here with me is enough.”

“why must you sound exactly like the sappy fanfics they write about you?”

“Oh, so you read them?”

You fall silent. Aqua chortles a laugh, slowly sliding out of the bed.

“don’t worry, I’m actually quite flattered.”

“shut upppp.” You groaned into the pillow. Now only wanting to rot and cease to exist. The embarrassment is unbearable, yet Aqua still gazes at you with adoration. He takes a breath, and soon his lovestruck faces turns into one of annoyance, the smell of syrup filled pancakes invading his nostrils.

“let’s go cook together then, before Ruby gives us all diabetes.”

---

“are you sure everything is fine?”

It was the hundredth time she was asking you this. The hundredth, in merely this week. If you had to count in the other occasions she’s done this, it’d be up to millions.

“Kana, listen-“ you stop your tracks, your school bag feeling heavy from all the piles of homework and worksheets given to you due to your constant absence from class in the past months. “ I appreciate your concern, I really do- but seriously, everything is going great with Aqua. “ you figured she might be the most frazzled from your relationship, since she was the one most concerned for you after the carnival fiasco. “ frankly, it never could’ve been better.”

Kana’s expression falters. Switching between you and your now healed wrist. She stays silent in the rest of your walk, but her stare is relentless. You try to ignore it, especially when you see Aqua in the distance, whom had to leave school early for work, and now was here with a bag of groceries to pick you both up. Ruby got a bad cold from the sudden shift in summer to fall weather, and Memcho was in home streaming a new game that just dropped. you see Aqua waving at you, so you hurry your steps so you could reach and tackle him into a hug, yet a hold on your wrist stops you, immediately giving you bitter flashbacks. Yet, the grip, is much softer, less violent than what you remember. Her hands are smoother, and her eyes are filled with much more concern. Aqua’s stare, on that bitter night, seemed more like bloodlust than anything. Seemed like he was holding back, like he was on the brink of a violent melt down. Kana’s was different. Much different. It made you stare at her with confused silence, an apprehension evident in your eyes.

“l-listen.” She looks away ashamed, tugging her hair back, an action she often does when she's under pressure. “ I-I know I’m the last person you’d like to hear this from…given my past crush on Aqua…but—“ you wanted to refute that, to assure her that you hold no grudge against her over such a thing- but your mouth stayed closed, memory lane holding you in a vice grip.

“something off. Something’s wrong. Aqua…he’s not acting like himself these days.” Kana stressed. “ I mean- he looks normal yeah- but please, think about it. why on earth would take you to a crowded, loud place after you were almost kidnapped? What’d he do if you suddenly got lost? Or you disappeared? Isn’t it weird for him to pick such a place?” her eyes suddenly widened. “a-and think about what you told me! about the stalker being a part of the staff, remember? I think you’re right, Y/n. you were absolutely right about that. And I think Aqua knows this too- but-“

-“you guys ok?”

Kana flinches, her face is by all means horrified, as is she’s seen a ghost. She quickly let’s go of your hand, and her expression shifts from horror to dismissive and bossy, a casual look for Aqua to receive from her.

Despite her face screaming horror merely a few moments ago, her voice is as relaxed as ever. “ Hm? What, can’t let us have a girl talk now?” she grumbles, starting to walk away and giving a light punch on Aqua’s shoulder. “ learn to be patient, Hoshino!”

Aqua mumbles an apology, even if it was obvious from his tone that he wasn’t much sincere about it. he doesn’t follow her, and you don’t either, too caught up with a doubtful heart and a mess of a mind. The whole atmosphere shifted too quicky- far too quickly for your mind to process and for your heart to feel. It’s like you’ve blinked once, a storm appeared and then when you blinked twice, it was the same sunny and rogue fall.

“hey, you ok?” Aqua’s voice barely registers in your head. Concerned, he places a hand on your shoulder, one which you flinch at, and he quickly disregards it. his slightly hurt stare breaks your heart.

“ah, sorry— Kana uh…she…” your bag suddenly felt heavy. Aqua’s blue eyes didn’t shine with the brilliance you’ve once perceived, rather, it seemed to be prying, looking deep inside your soul for any sort of suspicious activity. You gulped. “ um- she just told me some jerk in my class secretly liked me.” you try to laugh it off, try to act like it’s the truth. But you’ve never been the best actor, Aqua knows that very well.

“oh? alright then.” His voice reeks of layers. The relaxed tone is but a cover-up for something else entirely. Something you’re completely unsure of, and now, with the horrifying small dots clicking together one by one, something you’re completely and utterly horrified of.

‘but it can’t be true.’ Your heart reasoned. ‘at least, not entirely true. He may have have just wanted what’s best for you mentally. And he knew a sociable place was best!! Yeah…yeah. He knew. He was careful. He…he should’ve been careful. He is careful. He wouldn’t have taken you there in the first place if he wasn't certain nothing would happen.’ You listened, you listened wholeheartedly and calmed your own queries and worries. You look at Aqua apologetically, grabbing his hand and urging him to forget it and walk back home.

“you sure she hasn’t said anything…weird?”

Aqua’s hand squeezes yours, he’s waiting for reassurance.

“ No, she’s just worried for me, that’s all.” you squeezed back.

For whatever reason, the grip Aqua had on your hand felt a bit more tight after those words.

-----

Darkly lit room has become your norm for the night. Your eyes were too bothered by the laptop’s luminescent light to handle the lamps’ and your hands were too fixated on clicking away to even bother thinking about flipping a light switch.

The tune in your ears have become a bit repetitive, the song was almost near finish. Only a few more things, a few more polish, and you were set to publish. However, something was holding you back.

Art, in any form it is, always, in whatever ways, hurts the artist. By all means, any form of art is a fucking pain to perfect. Normal people often believe that the talent of ‘creation’ is gifted to people, handed on a silver platter with no hard-work whatsoever. Just like intelligence. Unfortunately or not, that is not the case. Even Da Vinci had his bad art days, even he started out bad, barely able to sketch anything but a stick figure. Art is like a sport. You must train it, understand it and fathom it to get to where you want to be. You must trip and fall and bleed till you ache, you must lose a few tournaments, all to reach the goal of satisfaction, the goal of improvement. One must truly love art if they want to continue it. it is why so many people find their skills being called ‘natural talent’ so offensive. There is no such thing as natural talent. There is only love in what one does, and that love is often mistaken for the latter.

There is only one way up in art. Practice. Which, upon first view, it seems quite easy, however, it’s actually, quite frankly, fucking painful.

Which is what leads you to your current dilemma. The common ‘is this good enough? Am I good enough? Is my entire being even worthy of life?’ thought coursing through your very bones and blood like a marching band. You hate what you’re listening to, but you cannot bring yourself to delete. You’ve spent too much on this, your mind will start sobbing and breaking apart if you think of re-editing even one more line in the second verse. You’re losing your entire mind, and you’re questioning your very skills. Skills that you find to be utter useless flammable garbage. You’d say you want to die, but with what you’re creating, you’re certain that you’re not even worthy of such a sweet release—

“you look like a psychopath.” Aqua quickly takes off your headphones, leaving you to give him an offended look- as if he just insulted your pet and called them ugly. He does not falter. He looks at you with stern. “ if you don’t take a break, I'd have to call the ambulance. C’mon now, get up. “ your tired hands fly up to him for a fight, even if your body is as slow as a zombie’s.”No- Y/n stop trying to steal the headphone from me-“ he lifts his arms up as high as he can, earning a few rambles of ‘no’ from you. “trust me, you need one.”

“no, I need a good song.” Was all your energy-drink fueled mouth could spring out. “ I promised myself to not get up from this seat until I get this over with!”

“you’ve been sitting here for ten hours.”

“just one more.” You plead. “one more hour- hell even just thirty minutes and I promise I’ll go to bed.” You quickly look at yourself in the mirror and scowl. “and take a shower.”

Aqua’s expression reeks of worry, with a tinge bit of disappointment. He glances at the screen, his eyebrows even scrunching up more now. “this looks finished. Why on earth would you need one more hour?”

“how would you know it’s finished?” your tired, exhausted and sleep-needed voice made you sound annoyed, but it was a sincere question, one more laid around curiosity than malice.

“I’ve seen you work before. This format looks similar to your other finished products.” He speaks as if that was normal. As if he didn’t confess to the strangest action.

“hold on—“ even in your tired state, your mind caught on quick. “you watch me while I work?”

“yeah?” he questions, as if you’re the weird one for bringing that up. “always thought you looked cute focused. I couldn’t helped but glance at what you’re working on.”

You couldn’t help the giddiness you felt, the mental pressure to keep up a cool image was long gone with your doziness. Though- it’s never even there to begin with when you’re with Aqua- you feel awfully comfortable with him these days. To the point where you’re fine showing him the awful work state you’re in- with little to nothing attractive about you at the moment.

“god Aqua, you’re weird.” You laughed. “but..it’s a sweet kind of weird- still weird- but you’re the one doing it- so.. it’s..kind of like- since I like you so much, I find it lovely?” you didn’t even know what you were talking about anymore. Exhaustion was getting the best of you for sure. “ like- it’s also so reassuring- I mean-“ god, you really need sleep. Your bed is beckoning you to slumber. “ you always seem so normal and perfect. It’s nice to know even you have some weird qualities.”

“observing the one’s you love is weird?” was of course his question. oh god, you love him so much.

“I mean— in some people’s book, yeah. It’s weird.”

Aqua’s lips falter a bit. “..do you find it weird?”

Your mind, too sleep rendered to process the tonal shift, answers truthfully. “well— I guess for me it depends on the person— like- if it’s some stranger I’d be freaked out. but..it’s you. so, I find it really sweet,actually.”

Aqua’s posture relaxes, as if a giant weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He sighs, one of relief or drowsiness? You’re not sure. All you know is that he keeps gazing at you so softly, you wonder how lucky you’ve gotten at landing such a handsome blondie as your lover. You- the composer who reeks of hamburgers and syrup induced caffeine-

Aqua suddenly laughs. “You’re talking aloud, Y/n.” shit. Well, this is embarrassing. With a groan of shame, you hide your face and cringe, all while Aqua tries to convince you to get up for bed.

You’re unsure of how, your brain’s comprehension of the conversation all muddled, but you get coerced into falling asleep, Aqua’s smooth voice becoming your siren.

----

A café runs through chitter and chatter, the often small town with no crowds have become awfully occupied these past few days, each and every one of the people are classmates you’[ve know for years or people you’ve met in parties and hallways- all huddled up together in a small café known for serving tired and half-dead university students.

After years of ripping your hair out, biting your teeth and hating every second of the subject you had to study, you and your fellow classmates have finally graduate Tokyo Medical School and Dental University- a thing your parents constantly mention in every party they're in- speaking about how it’s always been your dream- even though it wasn’t- actually, it was their dream for you, and you, ever desperate to seek their love and approval, did everything in your power to appease them, all for them to boast about amongst your aunts.

You drink your tea-bag cheap tea, afraid of spending money with the tight budget you’re on. moreover, you never really liked the food quality served here anyway. The cake always seemed a bit too dry, and their milkshakes were always made with no quantity control- each serving becoming either too sweet or too solid to be called a milkshake.

In your haze of thoughts, your fingers tap on the table, your mind hazing to find a nice rhythm to go with the café’s ambiance, a certain song intro for all the slice of life stories that were made here. the song in your mind quickly vanishes with your friends, far away in the other side of the café start calling you to join them for a game of charades- with nothing better to do- and also- out of your own instincts in what you assume is a dream sequence completely out of your control- to real to be a dream- one could say- but it was also too far away from your own reality to be called a memory in your life- you get up from your seat, plastic cup still in hand as you make your way to the group, only to stumble upon a block on your road and fall head-first into the chest of an unknown man and his red sweater- a sweater of which, is now stained by your tea.

“oh shit shit! Shit I’m so sorry! Wait here- I’ll help you dry it-” you quickly grab tissues from the cashier counter and quickly trying to damage control the already ruined sweater, guilt now eating you up from the inside out. “god I’m so sorry- the whole sweater is ruined now-“

“it’s fine-“ the man, whom now you look up to see, is none other than Gorou Amamiya, the top student in your class known for his quiet attitude. “ I hated this sweater anyway.”

You look at him with a rose brow. “ don’t you wear this everyday?”

He gazes away. “it was getting old, wanted to get a new one for a while now.”

“oh- then let me buy one for you! it’s the least I can do-“ your eyes widen up for a moment ands you take off your coat, giving it to a very confused Gorou. “Take this with you too, I heard it’s going to rain soon. This should keep you warm.”

“…thank you.” his voice was toned down, genuine sincerity within it. “ but you really don’t have to. I don’t mind rain.”

“and let the genius in our campus get a cold?” you scoffed. “there’s no way I’m letting that happen.”

“..I’m not a genius.” He looks away embarrassed. “I’m just good at studying.”

“if you were just good at studying, then you wouldn’t have been the top student in our class!” you give him a playful punch in the shoulder. “ stop selling yourself so short, Doctor Amayima.”

He gives an embarrassed scoff, hand going up to his face to hide his bashful smile. “please, just call me Gorou. “

----

You wake up to sniffles in the morning.

It’s small at first, barely even a whisper. Your mind easily disregarded them as a shifting of a bedsheet or shuffle of your kaito plushie. Then, it started getting slightly bit louder. Still, your hazy sleepy brain tried to think nothing of it, but then- it happened- the hiccup- the very same one of that unforgettable night rung through your ears, making your heartbeat peak with panic and your body jolt awake from no alarm beside it.

Your eyes shift in the night, cracks of dawn can barely be seen- but the specks of white on your windowsill assure you that it’s almost morning- and through all the empty cans and bundles of wires sits a sobbing Aqua, a headphone, your headphone, placed on his ears with the light of your laptop shining on them. His eyes, widened up and seeming hurt, were glued to the screen, unwavering in their stare. His brows kept furrowing from one position to another- either shocked or hurt. He looked just like the night you always fear to remember- although there is a stark difference. He looks much softer, his gaze more of a broken boy’s than a protective lover’s. the sligh horrified harshness he had in his eyes were gone here, leaving a gaze full of nostalgia and painful memories in it’s wake.

You shift out of the bed- now slowly awaking your conscious and clearing your throat- slowly trudging towards your boyfriend. You reach out for his shoulder, as gently as you ever could, but he quickly shook franticly and swiftly turned around to meet your gaze, horrified by being caught. “you scared me-“ he quickly muttered. Still overwhelmed, he slowly takes off his headphones and tries to rub the waterworks out of his eyes. He wouldn’t look at you, perhaps still afraid of you seeing him in such vulnerable states, so in a moment of confidence, you takes his hands away from his face and cup his cheek, drying his tears.

“you ok?” was your first question. he took some time analyzing your face before answering.

“…I’m fine.”

“then why were you crying?”

The question could’ve been a harsh slap to the back with how he reacted. It was a question he wasn’t content answering, it seemed. You grew concerned and self-conscious. “you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to—“

“your song,” he started, mind drifted somewhere else. “ it…well..” often, you wouldn’t see Aqua so lost in what to say. If he had nothing of noteworthy to speak of, he wouldn’t speak at all. but, you’re now well aqquinted with seeing Aqua act differently with you then how he does in the public eye. you wouldn’t be surprised if he picked up this habit from you, even. You wait for his reply as he collects his thoughts and takes a deep breath. “ ..it feels..nostalgic. have you..thought of somewhere-or something specific when writing this song?”

You’re taken aback, considering the question for a few seconds of hums before answering with a shrug. “I don’t know.” you huffed. “ honestly, most of my personal songs are just- thoughts and feelings that have been stuck in my head in a long time.” You give him a smile, your tone getting the slightest bit chipper as you try to ease the mood and distract him from whatever bad thought he has. “often, I get these tunes after a good night’s sleep. It’s like they come to me in dreams. “

To that, Aqua’s prolonged avoidance of eye-contact suddenly breaks. “dreams?” he repeated more to himself than you. “what kind, exactly?”

“Pervert.”

“Wait no I-“ his posture slouched as you snorted. “ you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“you brought this on to yourself!” you jokingly reasoned. “ and for your information- no. it was not a spicy dream.”

“Spicy? You call wet dreams spicy?”

You fall embarrassed. “Well- saying spicy makes it funnier!” you reasoned.

“ you’re embarrassed of saying wet dreams, aren’t you?”

“No.”

“then say it.”

“….”

This time, it was Aqua’s turn to snicker. To be amused thoroughly and hopefully enough- forget about his breakdown for a moment and calm his worries.

“how do you always leave me so tongue tied?” with crossed arms, you tried to change the subject.

“you’re easy to provoke, you always feel embarrassed over the littlest things.”

“not true.”

He gives you a doubtful stare, you scoff and falter.

“okay, maybe it’s slightly true. But you’re overexaggerating it.”

“you’re too insecure for your own good.” He speaks like a disappointed mentor, giving a glance at the monitor before looking back at you again.

“ well, the insecurity is what helps me succeed.”

He frowned, a posture of his shifting from the few moments of relaxation to one of slight frustration. “ or perhaps, it’s what’s holding you back all the time.”

“okay, first of all, ouch.” You sit down on the bed, your mind coming to the conclusion that there’ll most likely be no sleep for you tonight. “second, if I’m not satisfied with a song then what’s the point of releasing it? if I don’t like it, then obviously my fans won’t either.”

He stays quiet for a moment, sitting in different positions on the computer chair, as if there’s a prick behind his back not letting him lean in and relax. His eyes were deep in inquisitive thought as he speaks once more. “ if it were any other song, I’d agree with you,” he looks right back at you now, with eyes shining with such vibrant sincerity you held back a shocked hum. “but this song? My god, Y/n, you need to post this now.”

“y-you sure? I mean- I think it needs a bit more polish-“

“no, no. don’t add anything else to it, right now, as it is, it’s one of the most heartfelt and genuine songs I’ve ever heard.” He looks back at the monitor, and in his mind, he echoes the song in his head, the little vocaloid voice singing the lyrics and tugging at his heartstrings. “ when I hear it…I feel awfully nostalgic. I feel at home. It’s like you wrote this from the heart.” He looks back at you so softly, you could feel your heart race from his gentle, ever so small smile. “this is the best song I’ve ever heard, love.”

“…even better than Ai’s star-fell sweetheart solo you always listen to?”

His eyes glow in sharp determination. “even better than her entire album.”

-------

To you, Aqua Hoshino was often like an old man- he acts as if he’s in his forties. He doesn’t partake in new video games, yet he knows an awful lot about the classics. He knows an insane amount of golden era 90s to 2000s singers, his whole playlist is either just the great idol Ai’s song or such songs in said categories, there is no in-between. He insists on putting wooden cup trays on the table, even if barely anyone uses them anymore- and to you, most amusing of all, he barely understands gen Z humor, the very generation he’s apart of. Often, you tell him that he may be young, but he has an old soul. He never really replies to that joke, but he doesn’t seem to be annoyed by it either. It was more of a ‘deep in thought’, one could say. Aqua looked like a charming prince to the media, a quiet man to his friends, and to you, he was a dork who takes his actions a bit too seriously, at time, but he had a heart of gold. All he wants is for his loved ones to live on happily, and all he does is to achieve that very goal. Even in acting, though he never tells you his true reasoning for sticking to the art, you assume he’s doing it just so B-Komachi can get more eyes on them. After all, the actor brother and idol sister dynamic is something fans would always spam about on the internet constantly. You found too many sibling having matching Hoshino profiles, too many to count. Aqua's kindness knows no bounds, and that’s one of the many things you love about him.

Which, is why the very situation you’re observing has got you stuck in a web of thoughts, each more confused than the other.

While excitingly watching your song slowly blow up to fame from one view to the next, your enjoyment quickly dies down when you see how tense Kana seems, staring at Aqua with a shaky figure. Wasn’t she with Ruby visiting the Hoshino household just now? They must’ve come back when you were distracted with your laptop- you didn’t even hear the door close. But now, with your mind out of the excitement, you could hear Ruby speak and ramble on with Memcho about the Ai-exclusive bunny plushies she’s brought back from her house, and how it’s shocking how long this whole apartment and stalker issue is going.

However, their conversation was of no matter to you right now. Your current concern was how horrified Kana kept looking at Aqua. she's now batting an eye towards you- not even a single glance- it’s as if she’s in a trance, and she hasn’t realized you were in the room as well.

Your boyfriend didn’t seem to notice the burning stare, too caught up in reading ‘The Picture of Dorian Grey’ to even become aware of Ruby and Kana’s arrival, or so you thought.

“love?” Aqua calls out to you, quickly placing the book on his lap. “ can you tell Ruby that we’re not ordering from that bakery tonight? I’d rather not have her pout and fight me about it. she listens to you easily.” His head quickly shifts to see Kana, as if he's just been aware of her presence. Yet, Kana seems more furious than before. “ oh! Kana, I thought you were with the others. “ he slightly tilts his head in curious confusion. “why are you so quiet? It’s unlike you.”

The aura of the room has shifted to one of hostility, and you found yourself involuntarily gulping. “Kana…” you grew concerned. “you ok? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Kana’s eyes get a flash of sympathy- right before it cutting back to her neutral face and determined smile. “I’m fine, you go convince Ruby, or else she’ll already call and order that expensive shortcake. “

You felt bamboozled, like an actor who forgot their lines at a play. They were both hiding something from you, it was evident from their five star actor smiles. You felt suspicion grow within you, and in a fit of doubt and worry, you say ‘one second’ before typing on your computer. For them, they’re assuming that you’ve just closed your google tabs on the view count for your new video, however, you opened the recorder and let your computer sit turned on and it’s screen away from their view as you got up and left in a hurry.

You felt a prickling, sick bundle of needles crawl up your arms and back. worry and fear, all mixed into one bag of confusion. Something was going on, you’re unsure what it is, but you’ll maybe, with the recording you’ll have, you’ll finally understand why Kana seems much more hostile to Aqua than before, and why Aqua seemingly ignores her at every turn.

You only hope the batteries in your laptop doesn’t die too soon.

----

“it’s with a heavy heart that I’m announcing my departure with B-Komachi. I have decided to focus more on my acting career, but I’ll never forget all the love and support and lovely memories I made while being on this team. I hope you keep on supporting me!”

Crowds cheer and the backstage staff whisper to each other in surprise. All while you are left alone with your cheap tea-bag tea in a cup, looking at the screens and seeing Kana’s kind face as she bows down in respect to the fans. Her departure with the team is not surprising, she spoke about it months ago before the stalker situation even erupted. However, the timing felt odd to you. it’s been weeks since her private talk with Aqua, one which disastrously enough, your laptop apparantly didn’t record it at all. but you swore you turned the recorder on- you even double checked to see the red button blaring before leaving the living room. nevertheless, whatever it was, it was the breaking point for Kana, and right after it, in the night she told everyone at dinner that she’ll be renouncing her role in the team at their next concert.

Something in your gut churned that night, your mind kept questioning every word that came out of her mouth, even Aqua’s support to her seemed somewhat off. Something was wrong, something has happened, and when in that night, you’ve privately asked Aqua what was their talk about, he pat your head and told you that there’s nothing to worry about. She was merely speaking about a new role coming up, and she has wanted him to partake in that series with her.

Liar.

Your tea was getting cold, and the bitter peach-scented taste you’ve often enjoyed tastes like absolute garbage now. It’s as if you’re missing an important clue- a key point in all this mess, a key that is buried deep within your psyche with all the other bad memories your mind never wishes to revisit.

“you ok there?” Aqua’s voice startled you.

“ how long were you standing there?” you joked, now leaving the cold tea on the table.

“not long, I was talking but you didn’t seem to be listening.”

“oh, sorry…I was just thinking.”

“about what?”

“nothing much.” You lied. “ I’m just really going to miss Kana.”

“We all will. “ he puts his hand on your shoulder. “ but this is best for her. She never liked Idol work that much anyway.”

“…I guess you’re right.” you didn’t continue further, leaving an awkward tension to engulf the room.

“..are you still mad about my talk with Kana?” Aqua’s face, though still in neutral form, has it’s frown deepen a bit. “I told you, there’s nothing to worry about. We just talked about an upcoming show.” He gives you a conflicted stare. “would I ever lie to you?”

“..no.” you think so, at least. Or rather- you hoped so. You held his hand and gave it a squeeze of reassurance. “don’t worry, I trust you. I’m just sad about her leaving, honest.” Your heart feels stabbed, your conscious berates you for lying to him like this. yet you remain quiet as you squeeze his hand in reassurance.

You’re too far into your thoughts to see something in his eyes shift- the often light star pupil of his becoming slightly grey for one split second.

“…right.”

------

“you sure you don’t need me to look for it?” Ms.Saitou stops the car as she looks at you. “ you really don’t have to go all the way yourself, you can just give me a description of what to find.”

“no no there’s no need really- I’ve already bothered you enough with driving me here.” you take off your seatbelt, giving a glance at the house belonged to your boyfriend’s family. “I’m sure I’ll find it by myself, it’s not the first time I was here.” that’s a lie, you’ve actually never visited Aqua’s house, your meet up spots were always the apartment or the grocery store next to both of your schools.

“sweetie, I'm a little worried about you being there all alone. I can just look for it later when my meeting's over-“ oh boy, though Ms.Saitou’s kindness was endearing, you really need to go there alone so you can investigate properly. It’s time to pull up the shame card.

“u-uh..Ms.Saitou- the item in praticualr..is um..” you tried your best to look flustered, avoiding her gaze and fidgeting with your fingers, your posture lowering a bit as an act of embarrassment. “well…you know.”

Fortunately, it seemed to have worked, since her eyes widened and she cleared her throat, a sheepish smile on her face as she looks away. “I see…well, carry on then. If you need someone to pick you up later I’m always one call away.”

“right, thank you.” you get out of the car, trudging your way to the house with an extra set of keys that were given to you. Yet before you open the door, a car honk stops you at your tracks. You look back at Saitou, whom still has the sheepish smile on her.

“and..uh, well I’m not sure if it’s been told to you yet, but please make sure to have protection at all times!”

You could feel the shame and cringe flood you- quickly giving her a strained smile and thanking her for the tip. Well, at least she cares. But, that is not your actual goal for coming here; nor did you and Aqua ever go that far anyway.

Your main goal is to find the truth- more specifically the truth on what Kana was speaking about. If your suspicions are true, Kana’s worry for you and the stalker and her conversation with Aqua are connected- and their conversation was nothing about the show- rather, perhaps, about an item or clue that Kana found within the Hoshino household while visiting it with Ruby. It’s just a hunch, but it’s a hunch you can’t possibly ignore anymore. Your doubts and worries have now overflown, to the point where you’re afraid it’ll negatively affect your relationship with Aqua. and for what it’s worth, you’re sure your worries are for naught, and it’s just your overthinking and anxiety being a douchebag to you.

The house is untouched, almost spotless. The only thing showing any signs of people living here in the past months is the bottle of alcohol on the counter, and the few coats lasying on a couch here and there. it’s obvious that Saitou loves alone her, with Aqua even starting to live in the apartment in spending more of his time in your room rather than his.

You scan the place, looking through cupboards and drawers for any sing of something suspicious. Yet find nothing of that sort. With a sigh, you decide that it’s best to go into Aqua’s room first.

His room was clad in walls of blue, a poster of Ai Hoshino right atop of his wall, making you smile a bit at his fanboy heart. The room had only a few things, a closet, a desk with books and his bed, a blue circular carpet on the ground and of course, a window with blue satin curtains on it to fit the atmosphere. On his walls you could see some small little scribbles and drawings he and Ruby must've left when they were children, the books on his table were all sorts of acting ones, and on the shelf on top of his table there was a collection of tapes, all old classic movies he often ranted to you about when you were both pulling all-nighters with a walk to the park. You take a step in, though your morality fought with you about the breaking of trust and privacy and the consequences that’ll come with it , Kana’s horrified eyes couldn’t leave your mind, her shaky voice echoed through your head and you instinctively searched his closet for any kind of clues.

Yet, there was nothing.

You take a few steps back,

*clack*

You falter. You look down at your feet. You kick the ground.

*clack!*

You quickly slide the carpet away, and on the wooden ground, you see a plank that is ever-so-slightly off-color with the others. you take it out, and what you see leaves seeds of fear in you to brew. A black box, you take it out and see there’s a lock with a password on it. shit.

You first try Aqua’s birthday, nothing of note happens. Then, you try Ruby's. still nothing. You try his mother’s, that doesn’t do anything either. You try even his Idol’s date of birth and death, it still keeps itself locked. With a sigh, you think for a new answer, and quickly, a creepy thought comes up in your mind.

Slowly, you put your birthday in.

The lock opens..

Ooooook you’re not sure if you have to find this romantic or scary, perhaps both? Nonetheless, you open the box with a panic, and what you see is a collection of burner phones and notepads.

You first take out the notepads, opening them and having your heart drop at the sight of a schedule. Your schedule, from day in and day out. whom you’ve met, whom you’ve passed and even which café’s and shops you’ve visited. All dating back to the third day you've joined Strawberry productions, and most importantly, all in Aqua’s clean handwriting.

You can feel your stomach churning in horror, a bundle of gasps and swears stuck down in your throat. You take a deep breath, even if it doesn’t do anything to calm your panicked heart. You open another notepad, seeing that it contains specific things about you, from your favorite color to favorite food, and even to what clothing stores you prefer buying clothes at. Holy shit, how did he even knew that one? You could’ve sworn you’ve never spoken about such things- even with B-Komachi. Unless he had an eye on your laptop screen on breaks, seeing which shopping websites you had open.

Your heart was breaking, piece by piece, little by little, with every more notepad you’ve opened and more information you’ve seen revolved around you, you can feel your perception of Aqua change. Aqua Hoshino, the man you love. The kind boy who puts on a façade of prince charming just so appease people, but is a dead-panned dork at heart, or maybe- that’s not who he is either. Perhaps he's been playing a game with you all this time as well. using you for his won means- maybe the same means on why he's still in acting. God, you fool. You utter fool. How could you think that a romantic kiss in the rain would fix anything, how could you even think that Aqua’s actions were even the slightest bit normal?

You take a look at the phones, and as you turn them on and put in your birthday as the password, you could only pray with shaky hands that they’re not what you assume they are. The phone turns on, only one contact is in the phone. It’s your number. Fuck.fuck fuck fuck fuck. In shock, with a shaky hesitant thump, you click the messages. the image of you crying, the very image that has been sent to you lays within there. you scroll up, realizing through your new tears that he is the very same stalker who messaged you that night. He is the stalker who haunted your nightmares, the one who constantly made you feel on edge and that you were about to die. Aqua Hoshino, the one who saved you that very night, was also the one who put you in danger. You couldn’t help it, you throw the phone on the ground and started sobbing, your heart couldn't handle the pain and your mind was messing with you by replaying sweet memories, seeing them slowly rot and become sour. Everything he has done, everything you have lost, it was all apart of some sick plan, for a goal completely unknown to you.

Shit shit- you need to call the police, you need to tell someone about this- you need to-

A prickling, cold, familiar sensation runs through you. eyes were watching you. you quickly turn around. But it’s too late, Aqua, with eyes as cold as ice, holds a heavy metal pan and looks at you with disappointment. As if he found you with a broken vase.

“this will be quick, love.”

Before you could run away, your quickly grabbed and hit in the head. A pang searing through you as you fall down, vision slowly getting more blurry by the second, a sympathetic Aqua soothing your head as your pain worsens and you fall to sleep.

---

Gorou Amayima was a simple man, with a simple dream.

Though, most of his dreams were fabricated and influenced by his want of approval from his guardians, he knows that deep down, he too wants to find true love and settle down with a family. After all, with the kind of grades and money he now possesses, he’s certain that he can live a simple , lovely life in a family of four, maybe even five if you include the pets. Yet, there was always one problems. There was no one out there that he loved so much, and he was sure there was no one out there that loved a normal guy like him. how could one have a ,loving family or a peaceful life for that matter, without love in there to begin with? Yes, Gorou Amayima’s dreams were nothing but impossible, so he quickly discarded such fantasies and focused on his studies instead.

That is, until he met you.

One accident with a sweater led to a friendship through summer- and that friendship has led to him realizing how much you both have in common, and how to him, you were endearing, you were interesting, you were lovable.

Sure, you had your faults just like anyone else did- yet, those faults of yours only made you more beautiful to his eyes, more real. He couldn’t help but fall for you, couldn’t help but feel energized whenever you were around. Your jokes, your laugh and even your frowns and pouts, each of them were ingrained in his mind and he would find himself doodling your face in his notebook more times than one.

You were always there for him, always hyped him up and were his cheerleader when he felt the most insecure. And when you finally started dating, the support never stopped. You moved in with him in Miyazaki, even if you could’ve easily found a good job in somewhere more busy like Tokyo. Everything was perfect, and for once- after years of ignoring his own needs and dreams- he genuinely considered marrying you, and then having a family with you. perhaps, you could even adopt a few kids who were abandoned in the hospital, giving them the love they deserve. Maybe even, you could finally get into your love for music, you could take piano classes from the old man in the neighborhood. Everything would go smoothly, everything felt right. for once, Gorou felt satisfied with his dull life.

However, like all good things, this one had to come to an end as well.

The biker gang was always a problem around here, he’s heard from past rumours and whispers that they often come to this place to lay low, and the police force around here isn’t strong enough to take them down. He knew they were big trouble, and he’s always warned you to not go outside without him or someone else alongside you, not until they leave. But oh, you were persistent. You kept persisting that your small trip to the shop in a busier city a few miles away won’t take long-and that nothing would happen to you, why would they even care about you?

You convinced him, he couldn’t say no to your pout, he let you go that day, and soon enough, as the rain fell and police lights blared the red and blue lights all over the road scene, a murder, a robbery-gone-wrong, with the gang member in question fleeing with all the money that was left in your purse- which was not much to begin with- since you spent most of it on a red sweater, a sweater with the very same color and shape as the one he’s met you the first day with. And bittersweetly enough, a handwritten note by you on that sweater, congratulating the anniversary of the day you met, the anniversary of your graduation. The world has become bleak once more, the dreams he had crushed and the love of his life gone because he failed to protect them, he failed to save you from this fate.

He thought that was the end of it, that your relationship was perhaps meant to end in a bitter tragedy.

Yet, it seems like gods above have given him a second chance, a second life to mend things with you.

A simple scroll around youtube, a simple search for some nice songs and inspirations for his role has led to him to hear a familiar tune- one you’d always hum while cooking- he froze for a moment, checking the playlist’s sources and finding your channel, a new artist on youtube making songs with vocaloids- he first thought nothing of it. but curiosity got the better of him. you were quite social on your platforms, though the information on your personal life was scattered- he knew from your business email you live somewhere near the same state he does- and soon enough, he got into work. He was unsure of why he was so desperate to see you, an artist he knows nothing about, yet their tunes awfully familiar. but anytime he thought of the songs, he could only see vivid memories of certain days with his past lover, the one that didn’t deserve the tragedy that has struck them.

His heart almost stopped when he first saw you

It was at first appalling- horrifying even, with no change in your appearance whatsoever- merely younger and in the same age as him as Aqua Hoshino- walking down the streets up to Strawberry Productions, a curious and nervous gleam in your eyes, the same gleam you had when you first met in that small café. It’s you, it’s really you. you have been reborn again, just like he was. but from what he realized during the interview, it seems like unlike Ruby and him, you don’t remember a single thing about your past. It’s no matter, because the truth was no obvious to him. the very reason of his rebirth and his chance in this world- was all so you two could have the life you’ve both always wanted, the life you've always deserved, unshackled by the expectations of legal guardians and others, able to do what you love, and be away from the dangers of the world. He just had to make sure that no harm ever comes to you, that in this life, you will live alongside him, and you’d grew old together. He'd do anything to keep you safe this time, and no amount of pouting or pleads from you could ever stop him from such a goal.

He wont let you die this time.

---

Cold. Thirsty. Hungry.

Those are your first upon waking up. your mind is in a complete haze, you feel like you’re in a crazy dream. Your body isn’t responding to you, every nerve slowly waking up one by one, yet not quick enough. Your vision comes back, and you find yourself in an abandoned hospital, one awfully familiar, yet you can’t pinpoint where you’ve seen it before. A tuft of blonde hair makes your body shake in fear.

“stay away from me!” you quickly scream, legs scrambling to crawl away, yet you find your hands tied behind your back, chained to a metal poll in on the wall. Aqua hisses at the shout, looking at you in a scolding manner.

“there’s no need to scream, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“bullshit!” you retort. “you’ve been lying to me all this time! You’re just fucking using me for some crazy scheme that involves your acting, aren’t you?”

Aqua’s eyes widened, in a horrifying manner that leaves his star pupil pitch black and his firsts clenched. He looks art you with gritted teeth, furrowed brows indicating maddening disbelief. “ Y/n,” he says your name in such a passionate manner, you could feel bitterness form in your tongue. “ surely, you’re not that dense. You’re smarter than this,” his expression shifts from shocked to hurt. “ you know me better than this. you know I’d never do such a thing. Not to you.”

His voice his shaky. He’s genuinely hurt by your words. You could only look at him in disbelief. “ I love you. I did this all for you. you wouldn’t mind me keeping an eye on you if it meant just wanting to know you more, would you?”

“Aqua, you weren’t ‘keeping an eye’ on me. you were stalking me.”

“but it brought us closer, hasn’t it?” he gives a loving smile, a fond and real one, as if he believe his own delusional words. “without that situation, you and I wouldn’t have gotten so close. You wouldn’t have opened up to me so easily.”

“so that’s it? you fucking stalked me and made me think I was going to get kidnapped just so I’d talk to you more?”

He’s quiet, only giving you a knowing look. The gears in your head turn and your heart drops.

“oh god…you did it because you wanted me to fall for you?”

“it worked, hadn’t it?”

“oh my god.” You cried. You banged your head to the wall. the dread you were feeling, all the lovely moments in your head flashing in your mind, all of them were leaving you to despair. “oh my fucking god- Aqua. this is insane. You’re being insane!”

“doll, do you really think you’d fall for me in normal circumstances?” he crouches down, palming your cheek and caressing it. the touch feels horrible on your skin, yet as you try to steer it away, he grabs your chin and makes you look at him. “ I know you. and I knew you’d be too introverted to ever fall or speak to me that quickly. You’re mindful of who to trust. It’s what's so endearing about you, but it’s also the thing that was holding us back.” he gives a solemn look. “trust me, when we both would’ve realized the spark, it would’ve been far too late.” He goes back to caressing your cheek again, all while you remain horrified and silent at his rambles. “that’s why I needed to take matters into my own hands, I needed to make sure that you’re safe and sound, and the only way to do that was to make a fake disruption that would guarantee your safety if any real disruptions do happen.” He feels his finger becomes wet, and he now sees the little tears that were almost overflowing your eyes. He coos as he rubs them away, you’re too scared to move, afraid that his grip on your face may become harsher to the point of break the bones on your skull. “love, there’s no need to cry. I only did this because I love you. I never meant for it to scar you as much as it did.”

You couldn’t help but sob now, fully knowing that he’s too far back in his delusions to listen to any of your reasonings. “please Y/n, don’t cry. This situation is only temporary.”

“w-what do you mean?”

“Well, when I’ve finally convinced you that I’m just doing what’s best for you, then, I’ll let you free from the ropes. I just need to make sure that you won’t hurt me or tell anyone about this.”

“You’re fucking crazy, you know that?” you sobbed. “This is not normal, Aqua. none of this is. Please, you need to let me go- I-“

He quickly puts both hands on your head, steering you to look deep in his eyes, obviously hurt by your sobs and screams of plead. “Don’t you understand?! Y/n…” he shakes, as if he’s about to cry too, trying to calm down his breathing as he firmly holds your head in place, and you couldn’t help but feel scared, terrified of the boy in front of you. “…please, don’t make this harder than it should be. I’m only doing this for your own good. I'm doing this because I love you. I don’t know how much clearer do I need to make this.” his voice shakes, drops of tears now staining your clothes. “ please, don't hate me. don’t be afraid of me. just love me like you always did.” His voice breaks. “please— just forget whatever you saw in my room- or at least know that I’ve done it all with the intention of keeping you safe when real danger does come.”

“w-what if this real danger is all in your head? Aqua- be reasonable-please. Who on earth would want to kill me of all people?” to that, something in his eyes shift. He becomes delusional, his eyes look almost static, he's lost in thoughts you couldn’t comprehend.

“….you’d be surprised on the amount of cruel people out there.” he mumbled, none of his words making sense to you at the moment. “…I’ve seen you die once, I won’t let it happen again.”

“w-what in the world are you talking about? I-I’m alive right now, aren't I? see? I’m safe, a-and I'm okay- so you can let me go now. Aqua, please, let me go.”

He only seemed to be listening to half of your words, mumbling to himself a bit. he smiled at you, looked at you as if you were the most precious object he could’ve ever obtained. “Yeah, Yeah. you’re safe now. Safe because I intervened rather than staying back. I wouldn’t make that mistake again, I swore to always protect you, I’m not planning to break that promise twice.”

“what?” arguing felt completely hopeless. You really didn’t know what to do anymore but sob. He coos at you once more, hugging you so tight as the rope around your wrists stung.

“don’t worry Y/n…I’ll set you free from the ropes when the time is right.” he holds you closer. “ when you finally give in.”

You gasped, crying out and trembling from fear, the very source of them hugging and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as if he isn’t a monster, as if he’s not the evil queen who tricked you into biting the apple. He is no prince charming, and he is no bad boy. He’s a psychopath whose delusional with the world around him, thinking that he is doing the right thing, when he's only making your worst nightmares come true. His kisses, now all over your face as an act of worship, feel cold and bitter, his hugs feel too tight and his words make you dread.

All this time, you thought you knew Aqua Hoshino to a T. but in fact, even around you, he was putting on a mask, and playing the part that would charm you most. Only to hit you in the head at curtain call and bring you to an unknown, abandoned hospital, to worship and love.

"I promise, you'll feel great here." his eyes quickly shine in slight amusement, he seemed to remember a key information. "oh, and don't worry about someone worrying about you being lost. I'm sure you know this by now, but the stalker case was never confirm to end, so with your disappearance, it'll be opened once more, and right before it, a certain gang member kept persisting to take you home, remember?"

you couldn't help but gasp, shock coursing through you as you can't do anything but cry and listen to his scheme as he holds you. holy shit, holy fuck. is as if he's planned every little thing from the very start- even Kana's suspicion towards him could've been planned for all you know.

"let it all out of your system, darling." he smiled, dark and victorious, knowing fully well he's won a game you didn't even know the rules of, let alone know that you were playing it. " don't worry, you'll feel way better after a good rest. " his head tilts up to the dirty walls, humming deep in thought. "Say, you wouldn't mind some decoration around here, would you? maybe I'll even buy you some books if you behave well enough. any sort of technology is out of the question though. can't have you contacting someone from outside now, can I?"

your mind was too hazed out to respond, only wishing that this was all a cruel and wicked dream.

----

A/n:

hi hi!!!! if you're readers from my other fics, yes hello I'm alive lmao. if you're new here, welcome! I hope you all enjoyed my writing!!! honestly, this is my first yandere fic. so I'm not sure how well it'll be perceived. there are certainly better fics out there, but I hadn't seen much content on yandere Aqua before writing this, so I decided to experiment a bit! low and behold, this oneshot took much MUCH longer than expected. I genuinely thought this would be 7 to 13k words tops, yet here we are. this is officially the longest chapter and oneshot I've ever wrote. oh! and also for the ending, well, I wanted to leave it a bit open, so you can choose whatever ending you'd like for reader's story. I have a few suggestions myself, one with reader escaping, or Kana saving them and kicking Aqua's ass like the girlboss she is- or perhaps, if you're looking for a sad one, maybe reader becoming completely brainwashed and utterly convinced by Aqua's words, maybe even being convinced to replace Kana in the team. nevertheless, the ending is up to you, if you want you can share your endings with me in the comments! it's always a complete and utter joy for me to read them!! <3333

now if you'll excuse me, I'll go break my back on school projects all while continuing to write for my silly fics, have a great week everyone!!!!

#Oshi no Ko #aqua hoshino #aquamarine Hoshino x reader #aqumarine hoshino #aqua hoshino x reader #oshi no ko x reader #onk x reader #onk aqua x reader #yandere aqua hoshino x reader #yandere aqua x reader #yandere x reader #x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #yandere aquamarine hoshino x reader

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