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lys-lilac · 3 years

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The Realization of Importance

Part (2/3)

This was in my drafts for so long... So I thought not to let the cliffhanger stay for more time.

A/N: This is to say that all the characters and the main story line belong to Voltage Inc. Only the fictional story is a work of mine, as well the fictional characters, Hana, Touma and Akari. Also this story is based on dream event, because I had this as a dream many days ago. It might be a little different from the usual genre, a little more angsty, so this little girl wants to know your honest opinions about the work. Be honest and do let me know what you think. But, if it feels a little bit dreamy or weird, you can discontinue reading from here.

Part 1 II Part 3

Part (2/3)

Okay, now that I have cried so much and wiped away my tears, it's time to figure out things. How this all happened, or maybe I am still snoozing.

MC: But first, I need to find somewhere to live for now...

I can't probably return to my apartment, because the other me might be living there. Even if I go there, I will feel awkwardness surrounding me. So, I decide to take shelter in Asuka's home for tonight.

[Asuka’s Home]

{A/N: This is not shown in the MS, so I just added a fictional place}

A surprised Asuka greets me at the door.

Asuka: MC?

MC: Hey Asuka, if it's not troublesome, can I stay here for the night?

Asuka: Of course, come in.

Relieved that Asuka didn't doubt me, I put the slippers on and sit on the sofa in the living room.

Asuka: Color me surprised though, what brings you here, and today itself?

MC: Hmm? Can't I visit your home and stay over like we did in university days? I was just hit with nostalgia and-

Asuka: That's not the case. Didn't you tell me during lunch that you and Dr. Kasumi are going home together for the first time in two weeks of exhaustive work?

MC: ...

Now that I think about it, I arrived here in the evening, so it might be possible that I didn't know about the schedule beforehand. For now, I have to find an excuse to convince her.

MC: Err... yeah! Kasumi had some post-OP scheduled with new interns, so he told me to leave early, but due to the weather...

Wiping my hair and damp clothes with a towel, Asuka nods her head as if she understood what I meant.

Asuka: Poor girl... You could just have given a call, so that I could have rushed there.

MC: Asukaa!! You are literally my paradis-

Asuka: But, that would have caused Dr. Kasumi to blame me for stealing his girl.

MC: Wha?

With her light banter, we both break out into a laughter. She is really a savior to me, even though she doesn’t know the situation now.

Getting into a pair of PJs that Asuka gave me, I lie down on the sofa. Events of the day start reeling in my mind. Now’s the time to figure out what exactly happened. Is it just a dream? But it’s too realistic... Or what if I am thrown to another world, just like what happens in mangas?

A little bit confused, I open up to do list on my cell phone to check the schedule, but the next sight leaves me agape.

MC: I am a new resident in cardiovascular surgery starting from tomorrow?!

And my name is not MC, it’s... Hana? Well, it’s better this way, as anyone will not get confused anymore. After all, I am someone who is not meant to be here...

MC: Gahh! I will think about it tomorrow, otherwise who knows what will happen to my brain... I might as well get an ischemic stroke in this situation.

Putting a lid to my thoughts, I doze off to sleep.

{A/N: From here, actual MC is Hana, and the other MC is just MC. I just came with a random name for the MC.}

Sekai: MC, you will be all fine... Don’t worry...

Hana: Aww Sekai, thank you... You really are my- wait what? Why are you addressing me as MC?

With a shock, I sit up.

Hana: Just a dream, huh... Guess I better hurry up.

With a short yawn, I prepare for the day.

[Morning: Dean’s Office]

Matsunaga: ...and therefore you will be assigned in the cardiovascular surgery starting from today.

Hana: ...

Matsunaga: Hana?

Hana: ! Ye-yes! I completely understand. It is a pleasure to be working with you all.

I bow deeply.

Matsunaga: Though I have to say, you really look like Dr. MC. Are you sure that you are not her long lost twin sister?

Hana: It’s a pure coincidence, haha. But I have a way to recognize both of us!

Matsunaga: Oh?

Hana: Yes. Look at this!

I show him the pearl beaded hair pin in my hair. I bought it when I went to the zoo with Kasumi. But, he might not remember this too.

Matsunaga: That’s a great way. You are really a smart girl!

Smiling on the approval, I bow once again, and leave the office to my work.

On my way to Cardiovascular medicine department, I decide to take a turn towards the EICU. After all the act I put there, I should at least apologize properly. It doesn’t matter if Kasumi doesn’t remember me now. Even though it hurts me to change my behavior towards him, just like strangers for now, I can never let the boy who suffered so much to lose his smile once again. Now, only my job matters!

[Seimei University Hospital EICU]

As expected, everyone is there for the morning briefing, including the other me. I take a deep breath and knock on the door, making all of their gazes turn towards me. The confusion would have all been over now.

Hana: Good morning, everyone. I am here to apologize for the mess I created here yesterday. I am sure I had hit my head somewhere yesterday that I-

Takado: Can I tell you a copycat? You are exactly the same as this one over here, talking without stopping...

Hana: ...

They didn’t blame me for yesterday. I guess that’s good for now.

Hosho: I am now starting to believe that miracles are true.

Hana: Wha?

Hosho: Yes. I have never in my life met people with such exact features. It’s interesting but confusing at the same time.

Hana: Oh, about that, I have a solution! Look at the hair-pin tucked here. You will recognize me. And it’s not like I will work in the EICU. I have been assigned to the Cardiovascular Surgery from today. So I will rarely visit here.

Kasumi: Oh.

What makes him say that... Well, I can’t think of that myself. Maybe his curiosity is piqued, that’s all.

Kyogoku: Drop by the Pediatrics if you need any help.

MC: We would appreciate your help in the ER too.

Ok, now what? WHAT THE WHAT?! The legendary bodyguard is lending me a hand if I get in any trouble? And the other me... she is like 100 times more sweeter than me. No wonder Kasumi deserves a better one like her, not someone like me who behaves like a child till now.

Ekuni: And, if you run out of snacks, I can recommend you some.

Why are they all so sweet? Keeping my fast beating heart to myself, I mutter a small ‘thanks’, bow once again and leave the EICU. But, I feel a gaze looking at me from behind. Maybe I am hallucinating...

[Seimei University Hospital Cardiovascular Medicine Department]

After some greetings in the Cardiovascular Surgery Dept., I get to work at once. Apparently due my good grades here too, I am immediately handed a case of a surgery.

The patient is 11 year old, who is admitted today morning, has tetralogy of Fallot. This disease is generally congenital, which causes cyanosis, that is, bluish skin and oxygen-poor blood to flow out of the heart and to the rest of the body. If treatment is not done soon, it may become more severe.

Without any other delay, I head to the cabin where Touma is. Oh yes, Touma is the patient whose case I have been handed now.

[Seimei University Hospital Private Cabin]

When I enter the cabin, I see a gloom Touma sitting on the bed with his mother, Akari.

Hana: Good morning, Akari, Touma.

Akari: Good morning, Dr. Hana.

Even though she smiles, I can see her face washed with sadness. It’s okay, after handing so many cases with Kasumi, I have stabilized myself enough to deal with my anxiety. I reach out to her, and with my hand on her back, I look towards Touma, who is also a little bit scared.

Hana: How are you, Touma?

Touma: I- I am fine.

Hana: I know you came here way early in the morning. How about we go and get a drink for ourselves to cheer you up?

A little happy, he nods.

Touma’s treatment is starting from today afternoon, so luckily, saline and other devices have not been put on him for now. Means, he is free to move.

Holding his frail hand, I lead him to the refreshment zone.

[Refreshment zone]

I grab myself a can of coffee and give a bottle of orange juice to him.

Hana: So, what is Touma’s favorite activity? Hana is curious.

Touma: I like gardening, and going sightseeing.

Hana: Oh? You know how to plant flowers?

Touma: Yeah! Not only that, I know how to plant vegetables and fruits too! You know Hana, I harvested a lot of fruits, like strawberries, grapes last year that we had my friends and mama’s friends to finish it up.

Seeing Touma’s eyes sparkling, confiding in me and trusting me by calling my first name, I couldn’t help but smile.

Hana: Wow! You are really talented, little one! What about sightseeing? What places do you like?

Touma: I like Hokkaido. The weather there is so beautiful! But... I know I couldn’t do that after the surgery.

The little sun who was brimming just now with happiness, looks like the flame of a flickering candle.

I hold his hand and say.

Hana: I know you can do it. With me here, you can share anything you want. You are strong to handle every problem that comes to you. I can get that from your passion of gardening. Even if a storm comes, you can do anything to protect your little space, right? I want that confidence of yours in you too.

Touma goes silent. I see his face, surprised, and a little... flushed?

Touma: I brought some dandelions for you, Hana. I thought they could be my thank you gift to you for listening to me.

Hana: Thank you. That’s so sweet of you.

Oh my god. How sweet and mature he is! I was not even half of it during my teenage.

Touma: But, I have a favor to ask.

Hana: Sure, as long as it’s in my reach, I can do it for you.

Touma: After I recover, can you visit with me somewhere?

Hana: Where to?

Touma: I want to show you my garden.

Hana: Oh, sure. I would love to!

The happiness that left his face comes back.

Touma: It’s a date, then!

Hana: ...

What did I hear now? A. DATE. What?! But sighing, I put away the awkward thought and my lips curve upwards.

Touma: Although... Who is that guy behind you?

Surprised that I didn’t notice anyone, I turn backwards and see...

Hana: ?!!

This got a bit long, so I broke it further into two parts. Last part is on the last phase of editing. I will try to post it by tomorrow. Who do you think stands behind Hana? What will happen next?

Stay tuned.

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project-rebirth · 3 years

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Imagine Breaker: The_Invisible_Demon_Above_God. Retrospective.

Thoughts permeated Kamijou Touma's head as he laid in the hospital of Heaven Canceller, the same room he was always sent to.

His body ached, his head was swimmy and he didn't feel like moving anytime soon. After all, he had just survived the fight he had with Darnic Einsworth, one of the forces behind the Holy Grail War that had been going on in Academy City for almost two months. He thought about the events that had led up to this moment, what had happened to the city and what became of those involved.

"...."

He had saved Sakatsuki Miyuki. She had been chosen as a 'key' that would open Pandora's Box and allow all evils in the Outer Universe to spill forth. If that had happened, Academy City, no, even the world itself would have ended that night. It was hard to imagine, but at the end of the day, Kamijou had set his sights on Miyuki, the girl he had welcomed into his family as his little sister. He wanted to make sure that she was safe, that she could live to see tomorrow, and to smile once more. That had been all he fought for. Saving the world was just a secondary result of such.

But even so, it wasn't him who even did that.

Bowen Chuuno, had also charged into hell to destroy the Greater grail itself, the thing that was to give birth to a devistating force of destruction. Kamijou had not understood it, but all he knew was that Bowen fought. He fought and achieved the result he desired with his own hands, and that result made itself known.

During his fight with Darnic, he saw a brilliant blue light radiate in the distance, the sound of a tremendous explosion which rocked Academy City harder than any earthquake recorded. It was not only felt in Academy City, but around the world, as he heard many news stations from around the world like GNN report on it.

Was that the signal that the world had changed? The threat of the grail was gone, but what was to come from this? Kamijou had no idea, but there was something else he was concerned with.

Some time ago, Bowen had broken his right arm twice, and in those instances, he felt something was going to rise out from it. The unseen force that laid beyond Imagine Breaker had been ready to seep out, but Kamijou had controlled it at that time.

But...

"What...was that?"

In the battle with Darnic, he had been unable to keep it at bay.

Because his right arm had been cut off in the battle.

In that moment, he had lost consciousness for only a moment or two, but in those moments, something came out.

An incomprehensible force came out from his arm, the horrific creature that could only be described as a Dragon from out of this world. It was made entirely of a mass of flesh and bones, protruding outward in random places, the monstrous being massive in size. Its roar had decimated not just the landscape, but also nearby buildings, the force of it blowing away objects that were present at the time, or what remained of it during the final battle.

This thing... whatever it was, was a being whose power did not rely on a spell process or quantum mechanics. It was neither magic nor science, but simply...alien. That was the only way it could be described.

The Dragon lashed out at Darnic, negating any magic he used against it, and wounding him greatly. It was prepared to utterly destroy him when Kamijou regained his consciousness. He, with great effort, managed to stop the beast before it could land the killing blow.

"I...told you before didn't I? I don't need your help... I don't need your help, so piss off and let me handle this!!"

Kamijou screamed at the top of his lungs as the eldritch Dragon was forced back into his arm, it vanishing from the world as soon as it came, and after that, his right arm had grown back instantly.

Imagine Breaker had returned once more and Kamijou took the stage once again.

He had once more challenged the convictions of Darnic and resumed the fight. And before long, Kamijou's right fist slammed into Darnic's face, destroying his illusions and ending the fight. Pandora's Box was no more and his sister had been saved.

But he couldn't help but wonder. Just...what was that monstrosity that came from his arm?

Before, when his arm was damaged or removed, it would usually manifest as an unseen force, but here it took the form of a Dragon he had never seen before. It was unleashed and it caused devastation to the area around him. It honestly terrified him that something like that could exist within his right hand, that such destructive power could come out at any given moment to do what it did.

Had he not stopped it, had he not regained his strength to hold it back...

It would not have stopped with Darnic.

It would have continued its unrelenting path of destruction, tearing apart anything and everything that would have stood in its way. It would have destroyed Academy City and most likely, the world itself.

It terrified him.

It terrified him that one day, he would be the cause of the sorrow of others, of pain, blood and death if his are were to suddenly become removed. He raised his right hand up to the ceiling, despite it not able to reach it and stared at it with trepidation.

He would never forgive himself if he was the cause of someone else's pain. The guilt would weigh down on him like a gulitine, but even then, he would move forward. He would move forward to try to make amends.

"What...are you?"

That question hung in the air as it resounded through the empty, dark hospital room. In the end, he had saved someone. he had saved someone that he was close to, and now she could smile once more. He did not have to worry about the Grail War or what it would bring.

It was over.

It was truly over.

He closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep again, but that one thought, that one question hung in the back of his mind.

And it received an unheard answer.

In time, you will learn of my name. You will learn of all of our names.

#Toaru Majutsu no Index: Rebirth Testament (Main Verse)#The Natural Enemy of Magic: Imagine Breaker // Kamijou Touma #Arc: Flashback {Holy Grail War}#Season 1

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sachigram · 4 years

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Syzygy

“Shizuo didn't ask for any of this, but maybe there is such a thing as being in the right place at the right time.”

((click here to read on ao3!))

Shizuo hates places like this.

Sure, he used to bar tend. It was actually one of his most favorite gigs before that bastard flea got him arrested and fired, but that was a swanky place, rarely any incidences to invoke the wrath of the muscled bouncer usually lurking in the corner. This place is another story entirely, and Shizuo is considering asking if Shinra has any ibuprofen on him to combat the reverberance of the bass in his ears.

It's not anyone's fault but his own. Shizuo could have said no to coming out. He wanted to, but Celty asked him, said it wouldn't be fun without all her friends there, and Shizuo reluctantly agreed on the grounds that Shinra treat him to drinks and bar food, preferably wings. Shinra has delivered on his end of the bargain, but no one else deemed to show up but the three of them, Kadota and the gang citing they had something else to do, which is likely staking out in front of the comic store to await the release of some closet manga. Shizuo is tipsy, has a headache, and is a third-wheel.

He grinds his teeth, looks around to distract himself while the two lovebirds across from him snuggle it up in the dingy-ass booth like it's the finest linen in the country. There's no one worth paying attention to. Pretty women are all over, lining up the walls and dressed in—what could be considered clothing, if one was feeling generous. Shizuo can recognize their appeal, but he doesn't want to strike up a conversation with any of them because...what would he even say? Besides, he doesn't think he'll meet the love of his life in a place like this. People always say it happens when you aren't looking.

There isn't a band playing tonight. Sometimes local bands get gigs here, and Shizuo wishes there was one on stage to distract himself with, but instead electronic music is blaring, the lights are dim, and the bar is so packed that Shizuo doubts he could get another drink without standing there like an asshole for a few minutes. He sighs heavily, tongues his teeth, considers throwing the table into the dancing crowd, decides against it. He looks up when he hears his name being called.

“What?” he asks, raising his voice to be heard over the music.

“I said you don't look like you're having fun!” Shinra says, leaning over the table to holler into Shizuo's face. Shizuo throws a balled up bar napkin at him.

“I wonder why the fuck that is,” Shizuo huffs, crossing his arms and leaning back into the booth.

“I'm sorry. You can go if you want to. I know this evening didn't turn out how I described.” Despite just being text on a screen, Shizuo can feel the emotion in Celty's words, and he knows her tone would be apologetic if he could hear it.

“It's fine, I just— It's loud.”

“It's a bar!” Shinra shouts. If Shizuo is tipsy, Shinra must be wasted, and he's certainly getting more handsy with Celty than Shizuo would like to be witness to.

“No shit.”

“Really, Shizuo, you can go! We probably will soon too. Shinra is an awful drunk, he's likely to cause a scene soon.” Celty's screen is almost too bright in this low light. Shizuo considers his options. What the fuck else is he going to do, sit here for another hour? Watch the scantily dressed women turn down advances from desperate men? He could even go into the graffiti-laden bathroom, if he was feeling adventurous.

Going home really is the most appealing option. It's not his fault no one else came. Shizuo should have been smart and ditched as well, seeing as Shinra only ever wants alone time with Celty anyway. Besides, the wings were too greasy, and Shizuo is pretty sure he has leftover yakitori in his fridge from overestimating his appetite two days earlier. Worst case, he'll just eat some ice cream and call it a night. It sounds above and beyond what he's currently doing.

He's getting ready to say he's on his way out when a scent catches his attention. A familiar scent. His fingers grip the table, cracking the wood underneath as his eyes scan the crowd. Surely Shinra didn't invite Izaya, right? This was supposed to be a friendly gathering, and there's nothing friendly about that parasitic fucker. But—no. Shinra wouldn't have done that. Shinra knows better. But as Shizuo watches Shinra drunkenly slosh whatever the fuck is in that glass down the front of his shirt, he wonders is Shinra actually knows anything at all.

It takes longer than it normally would for Shizuo to locate Izaya. There's a lot of people in here for one, and for another, Izaya isn't dressed in his usual attire. He ditched the coat, has opted for a short sleeved black T-shirt that appears to be artfully tucked in to some light gray plaid slacks that are rolled up around the ankles. Shizuo has never understood that “rolling up” bullshit. Why buy pants if you have to do that to make them fit? Just wear shorts if you want them shorter! And of course Izaya would be one of the idiots indulging in the trend. Of fucking course. Shizuo grinds his teeth, prepares for a fight, but Izaya...isn't alone?

A tall, well-dressed man is guiding Izaya through the crowd, a hand settled between Izaya's bony shoulder-blades. They settle at an empty table by the bar, and Shizuo watches with the impossible realization that Izaya didn't come here for him.

For some reason, Shizuo feels sick to his stomach. He blames the shitty wings.

Izaya already has a drink in his hand, and so does the well-dressed asshole. They're talking, and Shizuo can see Izaya smiling, laughing at whatever the hell is being said. Well-Dressed reaches across the table, touches his fingers to Izaya's, and Izaya pulls his hand back, makes a playful admonishing gesture before resting his chin in his hand and giving a sultry gaze back to the man.

“What are you looking at?” Shinra asks suddenly, and Shizuo tears his eyes away from Izaya's pouty lips. So Shinra has no idea Izaya is here? That means Izaya really is here with someone for...a date?

It doesn't sit well with Shizuo. At all.

“I need a drink,” Shizuo says, downing the rest of his and standing so quickly it rattles the table. He hurries to the bar, settles at the corner, not really caring how long it takes for the bartender to get to him because that's not why he came over here. It's very loud with everyone talking over the thrumming music, but Shizuo focuses on as much as he can on what Izaya is talking about.

He has to make sure Izaya isn't scheming something, right? The guy he's with could be bad news. They could be planning trouble.

“—glad you could come out with me, Izaya-san.” Well-Dressed's voice is deep, and apparently he's on a first name basis with Izaya. Shizuo turns his head a bit to see the guy's fingers have once again settled over Izaya's.

“Your choice of venue is...surprising,” Izaya says, taking a sip from his drink. “It's not usually where I conduct my business, but I'm always up for a change of scenery.”

“Come now, surely you know this isn't just a meeting,” Well-Dressed says. “You came here looking absolutely gorgeous, after all. Did you dress up for me?”

Shizuo grinds his teeth, forces himself to stop so he can keep listening.

“Ahaha! Well, I never reveal my secrets, you know? You said to wear whatever I wanted.” Izaya takes another sip. “I'm glad to know you find it appealing.”

“I do. I do. You always look amazing, Izaya-san, but you look especially so when you're here just for me.”

“Now, now, Touma-san. You're being very touchy. If you start too forward too fast, you'll burn out soon.”

“Oh? Do we have plans later?” Well-Dressed, Touma-san, asks.

“Who's to say? The night is young, after all. I'm only suggesting you pace yourself. If you pass out, I'm certainly not going to feel pity for you,” Izaya says.

“How cruel!” Touma laughs, downing his drink in one go. “I like that about you, Izaya-san. I promise I'll be coherent for whatever you want me for later.”

“A bold promise,” Izaya says, following Touma's lead and drinking the remainder of his glass. “Who knows what I could want? It's a risk you're taking.”

“I'm a gambling man,” Touma all but purrs. Shizuo tastes bile in the back of his throat.

“Can I help you?”

Shizuo looks up to see the bartender is in front of him at last.

“Uh, yeah, I'll just...have a beer,” Shizuo says absently, still trying to focus on Izaya.

“What kind?” The bartender asks, sounding impatient. Shizuo hears Izaya laugh again, feels insane with the need to know why.

“I don't care! Anything!” Shizuo snaps, and then quieter he adds, “I'm sorry, no, just— Your choice, your favorite. It's my last of the night, so surprise me.”

The bartender goes off to do just that, leaving Shizuo back to his eavesdropping. A new voice has joined the two, and Shizuo turns a bit to see a woman hovering around the table, chatting it up with Izaya.

“Thank you for your patience!” she's saying, a tray in her hand. “It's so crazy tonight! But we expected it, right? What can I get for you?”

“I'll take another Macallan, rocks. And you, Izaya-san? I'm treating you, of course.”

“Here you go,” the bartender says as he returns, setting a glass of beer in front of Shizuo. “Do you want to try it first?”

“No thanks, that's great,” Shizuo says, fishing some money out of his pocket. He can always force Shinra to pay him back later. Speaking of Shinra, Shizuo should probably go check back in with Celty. But then how will he know what's going on with Izaya?

Shizuo sighs, tastes the beer. It's good.

What's he even doing here? He didn't want to come out at all, and now he's spying on Izaya, who is obviously not plotting anything, and just wants to fuck this douchey Touma guy later. Shizuo doesn't know why that bothers him so much, but it does, it does, and the fact that it does pisses Shizuo off to no end because he can't figure out why it would.

He should just go home. Finish this beer, say his goodbyes, go home, sleep off these weird, drunken feelings. He decides to do that, but first, he looks over at the couple one more time when he hears the waitress return.

She's very pretty, and she seems to think Izaya is either also pretty or nice or maybe both, because she strikes a conversation with him, a small flush on her face, and Izaya is nothing but pleasant in his responses. Shizuo growls at the thought, because she doesn't even know Izaya, and maybe this Touma guy doesn't either, maybe Izaya is the problem, so Shizuo looks at Touma just in time to see the glimpse of Touma's hand over Izaya's glass before quickly retreating and—

And.

“Fuck,” Shizuo says, realizing what it is he just saw. He considers his options, puts a hand in his hair and yanks. What the hell is he supposed to do in this situation?! Since when should he be the one to save Orihara Izaya?! “That fucker can handle himself. And if not, he'd deserve it. This whole thing is fucking—stupid, ugh, I'm pissed off,” Shizuo mutters to himself, drawing a few looks from those around him. Angrily, he chews the inside of his cheek. “It's not my problem. It's not like I wanted to be here or see that. Nope. It's his own damn fault for going out with shady trash.”

“Are you...okay?” A man to his right asks.

“Fuck off,” Shizuo snaps, and the guy runs away. Shizuo turns again to Izaya, sees Izaya take a drink from the glass, and Shizuo doesn't think, can't think as he marches towards Izaya's table, clearing a path through the crowd by shoving and not caring who gets mad about it.

“Shizu-chan!” Izaya almost shouts, and Shizuo takes one second to wonder how drunk Izaya is already before he yanks Touma out of his chair by his collar. “What a surprise.”

“You know this clown?!” Touma sputters, and Shizuo snarls at him, lifts his feet right off the ground.

“He's an old friend,” Izaya says with a grin, and Shizuo is too late to stop Izaya from taking another long sip of the drink, but Shizuo does manage to reach back and slap it out of his hand before anymore damage is done. “Well,” Izaya huffs. “That was just unnecessary.”

“This fucker put something in your drink!” Shizuo snarls first to Izaya, and then he shakes Touma back and forth, makes the bastard's head bobble like a toy. “You think no one here would notice something like that, huh?! You think everyone is stupid? That I'm stupid?! Are you CALLING me STUPID?!”

Izaya observes the shattered glass on the floor, frowns, and looks up at Shizuo with an entirely bizarre expression. Izaya should be concerned, he should be pissed, he should be asking Shizuo to kill this worthless guy, but as it is, Izaya is only watching Shizuo with a dopey grin on his face, and then he stifles giggles behind his hands.

“Oh no!” Izaya says, seemingly unconcerned. “I'm in real danger now! I've really done it this time.”

“What the fuck—“ Shizuo starts, but he's distracted by Touma's fist connecting with his face.

“Actually,” Izaya lilts, “Touma-san has really done it this time.”

To Shizuo's credit, he only punches Touma once or twice before flinging him across the entire room. Touma collides with a wall, lands in a crumpled heap of limbs, and doesn't stand back up. Shizuo stands with his fists clenched, ignoring the shock of the crowd in favor of turning back to Izaya, who is—trying to flag down a waitress for more drinks.

“Izaya!” Shizuo snaps, slapping the table and making Izaya almost jump out of his own skin. Izaya grins and looks up at him, makes a real show of giving Shizuo his undivided attention.

“Yes?”

“Did you fucking hear me?! That guy drugged you! He put something in your glass and you drank it!” Shizuo shakes the table a bit more, but Izaya only laughs again.

“Yes, I heard, and that's very unfortunate. Nothing I can do about it now. Boo, Shizu-chan, I think you scared everyone away,” Izaya says with a pout.

Shizuo sees red.

“How are you not getting this?! Who the fuck knows what he gave you? Shouldn't you be—I don't know, scared? You need to go to the hospital before it kicks in!”

“Relax, would you? It was probably just a roofie. It wouldn't be the first time.” Izaya stands, stumbles a bit, and turns to face Shizuo with such a dramatic flair that Shizuo honestly wonders if Izaya will hit the ground. “Besides, why would you care? Shouldn't you be trying to kill me now?”

“I—“ Shizuo begins. He thinks of a lie, but that's bullshit anyway, and what does he care what Izaya thinks? “I won't fight you when you're like this. It wouldn't be fair, and I'm not sleazy and underhanded like you.”

“How noble of you,” Izaya says. “I'm very impressed. Remind me to send you a fruit basket later. Or...a tub of Milk Bones.” Izaya suddenly bursts into laughter, and Shizuo is so baffled he forgets to be angry. “Get it?! Because—it's a dog treat—and you love milk...!”

“How much have you had?” Shizuo asks. He never thought he'd see Izaya like this. Getting drunk together is something friends do, or strangers who have no reason to dislike each other yet. Seeing an enemy in this state is...otherworldly.

“Oh, I don't know. Touma-san was boring. Did you hear him? Hey, were you watching us?” Izaya's gaze sharpens, and Shizuo feels himself jolt to attention, but then Izaya is giggling again. “He was so uninteresting that I wanted to drink myself stupid!”

Shizuo hates to admit it, but he knows Izaya well enough to know this isn't like Izaya at all. Izaya is careful, quick, untouchable. Izaya allowing any of this to happen seems like an impossibility, and Shizuo is waiting for Izaya to pull a knife out and say, “just kidding!”

“That's really fucking stupid,” Shizuo says, and Izaya stops laughing as abruptly as he started.

“Well, you are an expert in stupidity.” Izaya sighs and then he turns on his heel, sways, rights himself before he tumbles over. “See ya, Shizu-chan. Remind me to thank you later!”

Shizuo reacts before he can think better of it. He reaches out and grabs Izaya's collar, yanks him backwards until he's falling, and then Shizuo picks him up under the armpits like Izaya is a diseased stray that might bite him.

“Shizu—! Put me down!” Izaya snaps, kicking his feet out in what very much resembles a tantrum.

“Shinra is here. You should go home with him so you don't die.”

“I don't want to go home with Shinra! I want to get another drink!”

“And you don't fucking NEED another drink, I-za-ya!”

“Like you care what I need! Why are you—ugh, put me down! If you aren't going to snap my neck, I don't want you anywhere near me!”

“As if I want to be— Wait. Why would you want me to snap your neck?!”

Shizuo's violence didn't do much in thinning the crowd. The place is still packed, and it takes a while to carry Izaya back to where Shizuo was sitting earlier with his friends, especially because Izaya is fighting against being carried. Of course, Shinra and Celty aren't there anymore. Why would anything be easy?

Izaya seems to have worn himself out. His limbs are hanging by his sides, and from what Shizuo can see, Izaya is pouting very openly.

“Fuck. They left already,” Shizuo hisses. He doesn't know how long he's been gone from the table, but he can't be mad at them for assuming Shizuo was already gone.

“Can you let me go now?” Izaya asks. Shizuo shakes him around violently, and the next thing Izaya says sounds like “Guh.”

Grumbling to himself, Shizuo carries Izaya out of the bar and into the chilly night air where it's quieter. Seeing Izaya silhouetted in the neon lights of the city is a much more familiar sight to Shizuo, but he can't pretend any of this is normal behavior for them. Izaya has resumed trying to kick him, and based on Izaya's increasing giggles, Shizuo can tell Izaya is still drunk as shit.

“You know, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says in a whimsical voice, “if you hadn't thrown Touma-san across the bar and let him crawl away to safety, we could have asked what he gave me.”

“I didn't think about asking him anything. He deserved to bleed.”

“You rarely think, so I suppose I can't blame you. Just let me call a cab home! I'd much rather pass out in my own bed.”

“Shut the fuck up a minute, flea,” Shizuo growls, pulling his phone out of his pocket and selecting Shinra from his contacts. He holds Izaya by his collar now. “If he says you can go home and die, you can go home and die.” As much as Shizuo would love for Izaya to suffer, Izaya being drugged and left to die isn't something Shizuo can let himself live with.

If anyone is going to kill Izaya, it's going to be Shizuo. Shizuo is the only one who's earned it, and if Izaya doesn't stop kicking him, Izaya is going to die tonight for another reason than drugs.

“Shizuo-kun!” Shinra's voice fills his ear suddenly. “We couldn't find you! You went home, right?”

“No. Listen, Izaya is here—“

“Izaya-kun? Oh... Um, Shizuo-kun, I'm really not someone who hides bodies...”

“Shut up, it's not that! I saw Izaya get drugged, and I need to know if he can go home!”

“Drugged?” Shinra sounds...very unconcerned. Why the hell is Shizuo the only one taking something like this seriously? “Well. Is he conscious?”

“Yes.”

“Vomiting? Is he cognizant? Does his heart seem fine?”

“He's—the same as always. He's drunk, but he's not acting anything other than drunk. Hang on...” Shizuo shakes Izaya a bit. “Is your heart fine?”

“How would I know that?” Izaya asks as he dangles.

“You should be the first to know if it wasn't!” Shizuo hisses. Izaya's collar twists in his hand, and Izaya turns enough to face him, a deadpan expression on his face.

“Clearly it's beating,” Izaya says slowly, like he's talking to an infant. “I can't say whether that's good or bad, since it means I'm alive to suffer in your company.”

“He's as fine as he ever is,” Shizuo says into the phone, trying very hard to restrain the urge to throw Izaya as far as he can and see if Izaya skips like a stone.

“It was probably something to make him lose consciousness. The biggest concern will be making sure he doesn't choke to death on his own vomit, but he should be fine,” Shinra says.

“Okay, then I'll bring him to your place so you can monitor him,” Shizuo says, and he balks as Shinra laughs outright into his ear.

“Oh, no, I don't want him here. Celty and I have plans.” Shinra's tone suggests all kinds of things Shizuo doesn't want to think about.

“Plans can be put on hold!” Shizuo snaps, and he hears Izaya sigh heavily.

“My Celty can never be put on hold! Besides, I'm incredibly drunk myself. I can't monitor anyone properly. You could take him to the hospital, but otherwise, there's nothing else I can do or suggest.”

“You—what?!” Shizuo is left speechless as Shinra hangs up on him, leaving him alone in dealing with Izaya, who Shizuo doesn't even like.

“Well,” Izaya says, “that was certainly a helpful conversation. You have the best ideas, Shizu-chan.”

“What the fuck, he just— Has everyone gone crazy but me?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya laughs.

“Aw, is this the first time Shinra has chosen Celty over you? It's okay, you get used to it,” Izaya says. “Now then, you heard him. I'll be fine! I'm sure you can sleep much easier at night knowing I'm alive and well and plotting your demise.”

“Fuck you, he said you needed monitoring. I'm dropping you off at the hospital.”

“They won't accept me as a patient if I don't want to go,” Izaya says. “Besides, I'm beginning to doubt you saw anything at all. Maybe you just wanted to ruin my date! Pettiness is unflattering.”

Shizuo sees red, shoves Izaya against a wall and sees a flash. He finds himself wrenching a knife out of Izaya's hand before he tosses it to the side and glares into Izaya's stupid smug face.

“Yeah? And look where your date got you! Here, with me, because no one gives a shit about you or whether you die! How's that feel, I-za-ya? How's it feel to know if you didn't wake up tomorrow that no one but me would even notice?”

Izaya's eyes are wide, and if Shizuo didn't know what to look for, he'd honestly think Izaya didn't care. But Izaya looks baffled, and it takes just a few seconds too long for him to reply.

“It doesn't matter,” Izaya says, and Shizuo flattens him further into the wall.

“It matters. You think you can hide behind your stupid words and try to convince yourself you're above being scared, but I'm not buying it. I've never bought anything you've said, and I'm not starting to now. You wanna go home and die alone? Well guess what, even that's more than you deserve.” Shizuo lifts Izaya up again, starts walking towards his own apartment.

“Stop it— Shizu-chan, just put me down, I hate this! I hate you! If you take me inside your monster hovel, I'll destroy everything you own!”

“I don't own much,” Shizuo says. “And I know you hate me. I hate you, too. The best payback I can think of would be making you die in my company.”

Izaya pauses in his thrashing, chokes in a way that makes Shizuo worry he's about to be barfed on, but then Izaya is laughing loudly in a way Shizuo has never heard before. It's not forced or sarcastic or...asshole-ish like Izaya is. It's genuine.

“How cruel!” Izaya cackles. “I didn't think Shizu-chan could be so vindictive! You're right; that's about the worst fate there is!”

Shizuo could argue an even worse fate would be Izaya left in the hands of that Touma creep, unconscious and...

“Hey,” Shizuo says suddenly, unable to contain his curiosity. “That guy, do you think he was gonna kidnap you and kill you?”

Izaya scoffs. “No. He wasn't thinking with anything but his dick. He's been trying to fuck me for a while now, and ordinarily I wouldn't have even entertained him, but his boss is a good client of mine, and I thought Touma-san might be full of useful information. Unsurprisingly, he wasn't. He was boring and touchy.”

Shizuo grits his teeth at the idea. For once, Izaya's using of people isn't what Shizuo is angry about.

“That fucker,” Shizuo hisses. “Taking advantage of anyone like—that. It's lower than low, lower than dirt. I should've killed him.”

“Even if it was me?” Izaya asks. “He'd deserve death even if it was just me he was taking advantage of?”

“Shut up. No one deserves that, not even you.”

Izaya laughs again, but it's so bitter it makes Shizuo wince. “You really are cruel, Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo doesn't ask for an elaboration. He doesn't think Izaya would be honest with him anyway, but then again, aren't people always saying drunken words are sober thoughts? What about roofied words? How the hell is Izaya still conscious anyway?

When he opens his door, he's happy to be out of the cold, and even happier to be home. Like this, it's easy to forget about Izaya, who is now draped across his back and...possibly unconscious? Izaya has been silent for an eerie length of time, and somehow Shizuo hasn't been stabbed yet.

He dumps Izaya onto the couch, and Izaya lands in a heap of limbs before immediately sitting upright and looking around, his face absolutely gleeful.

“Shizu-chan! Your place is a lot cleaner than I thought it would be! But then again, I assumed you slept hanging from the ceiling. Maybe you do? Your bedroom is this way, right?” Izaya asks as he rolls to his feet and starts towards Shizuo's room.

“Oi! Sit back down!” Shizuo hisses, yanking Izaya backwards and tossing him onto the couch. “This couch and my bathroom are all you have access to! If I see you anywhere near my room, I'm beating the fuck out of you.”

“Scary!” Izaya crosses his legs and grins up at Shizuo. “So then. Are we having a slumber party?”

“I'm waiting for you to pass out. Oh, also...” Shizuo goes to his fridge, pulls out his leftover food, and doesn't bother heating it up before devouring it. Izaya watches him with obvious fascination, and Shizuo hates the pinpricks he feels at knowing Izaya's keen gaze is on him.

“Do you want some water?” Shizuo asks, feeling like an alien in his own home.

“Well, it would probably help,” Izaya says. “Have you got any alcohol?”

“You don't need alcohol, you shitty fucking louse. You're fucked up enough.”

“I feel sober!” Izaya says, but his flushed face and swaying demeanor beg to differ. “Just the water then. The sooner I sober up, the sooner I can get away from you.”

Shizuo grits his teeth as he pours Izaya a glass of water, and when he stomps over to the couch, he shoves it at Izaya so forcefully that the water sloshes out of the glass and onto Izaya's chest.

“How are you gonna act high and mighty even when I'm doing you a favor? You should be fucking thankful that you aren't in a ditch somewhere!” Shizuo growls as Izaya frowns down at the water on his shirt.

“I never asked for your help,” Izaya says before he looks up and meets Shizuo's gaze. Ordinarily, Shizuo would be creeped out by Izaya's unnaturally red gaze, but as it is, Izaya just looks exhausted and maybe even scared. He's just too proud to let it show.

“Yeah? Well, you better be glad I gave it to you anyway. You could be out there getting—“ Shizuo pauses, huffs, and turns to go back to his food.

“Raped,” Izaya says, because he can never leave well enough alone. “I could be getting raped, is that what you wanted to say?”

“For fuck's sake, Izaya, shut the hell up and pass out already.”

Unsurprisingly, Izaya doesn't. He sips at his water and looks around before he tries to stand. Before Shizuo can even yell at him, Izaya stumbles backwards, misses the couch, and lands sprawled in the floor with the water glass completely emptied on him.

Sighing, Shizuo tosses the empty food box into the trash before he makes his way over to Izaya, who bristles visibly and narrow his eyes up at Shizuo as if daring him to say anything.

“You're a goddamn mess,” Shizuo says because Izaya needs to hear it, or maybe just because Shizuo likes needling him. Either way, Shizuo leans down and picks Izaya up again.

“I thought I wasn't allowed in your room...” Izaya says, his voice slurred and heavy with impending sleep. He's clearly fighting it with all he has, and Shizuo wonders just how many times Izaya has been drugged before.

“I'm chaperoning.” Shizuo shrugs and tosses Izaya on his bed before he tries to find dry clothes for Izaya's small, flea-like body. He has sweatpants with a string, so that'll work. As for shirts, he has plenty of T-shirts he wears on his off days, nothing fancy like Izaya is accustomed to, but if Izaya complains, Shizuo might just punch him.

When he turns to Izaya, he's surprised to see Izaya sitting up, though he looks far from cognizant. He's swaying, catching himself, and trying and failing to focus on Shizuo.

“Can you get undressed?” Shizuo asks him.

“Oooh... Shizu, how naughty...” Izaya says with a giggle, and then he's trying to tug his wet shirt over his head. It gets caught at his elbows, and Izaya rolls off the bed and into the floor with a resounding 'thunk'.

“Fucking flea... Stupid fucking drugged annoying ass flea,” Shizuo mutters to himself as he goes to Izaya and helps him up again. “Alright, lift your arms, you can do that much.” Izaya does, and Shizuo does his best to avert his eyes as he removes Izaya's shirt and helps him into the dry T-shirt.

“Smells good,” Izaya murmurs, and when Shizuo looks at him, Izaya is holding the collar of Shizuo's shirt to his nose and inhaling happily.

“What the fuck?” Shizuo asks, wondering what planet they're on.

“I said...you smell good,” Izaya says a little louder, glaring at Shizuo as if Shizuo has yanked this confession from him without permission.

“Okay? Take your pants off.”

Izaya pouts at him and shakes his head.

“Izaya! Take your—!” Shizuo yanks Izaya's hands away from the shirt collar and tries to make Izaya undo his pants, but Izaya merely stands there looking like he might cry. “What's wrong with you? I'm trying to undress you so you can sleep comfortably!”

“I hate you,” Izaya says with his usual ire, and then, inexplicably, his voice is breaking and he's hiding his face in Shizuo's giant T-shirt. “I hate Shizu-chan so much!”

“Yeah? Well I hate you right back!” Shizuo hisses, and he undoes Izaya's pants before yanking them down. His renewed anger makes it easier to ignore the fact he's undressing Izaya Orihara in his bedroom. “But even if you're fucking horrible and I don't want you here, I'd rather you be here than with some creepy douchebag, so help me out!”

“You should've left me! I'd be fine, I'm always fine!” Izaya is practically sobbing by this point, and Shizuo is helpless to do anything but watch Izaya cry with his pants halfway down his thighs. “You were right to say no one would care, so why should you? I don't want your pity!”

“Too bad,” Shizuo finds himself saying. “If you wanted it, I wouldn't give it to you. I hate people who want pity for the sake of being pitied. But right now...”

“You never do what I want,” Izaya says with a sniffle. This time, when Shizuo pushes Izaya gently towards the bed, Izaya allows it, and Shizuo is able to get the wet pants off and replace them with the sweatpants. Izaya is skinny, so Shizuo has to tie the strings as tightly as they'll go.

“There. Isn't that better?” Shizuo asks. He's always been pretty good with kids, which is exactly what a wasted Izaya is reminding him of. “You'll feel better when you sleep.”

“I'm not tired,” Izaya says, emerging from the shirt at last to show Shizuo his red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks.

“Right,” Shizuo says. “Well, when you are, it'll be better.” He almost laughs when Izaya nods very seriously, as of Shizuo is saying anything other than common sense. Shizuo tries to back away, but he finds one of his hands being held hostage by both of Izaya's. “Flea,” he says warningly, not trusting Izaya to not have a hidden knife on him somewhere.

“Your hand is one big—callus,” Izaya announces. He turns Shizuo's hand over and examines it. “You should moisturize.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” Shizuo mumbles, trying again to pull away, but Izaya seems like he might cry again if Shizuo does.

“Isn't it weird...” Izaya says, and then he's just holding Shizuo's hand, looking up at Shizuo with his watery gaze. “You're like a regular person like this. A human.”

“I am a human,” Shizuo snaps, not ready to hear Izaya's usual spiel about Shizuo being an unlovable monster.

Izaya just nods and looks down again at their joined hands. “I love humans,” he says, and then he sniffles again. “But humans don't love me.”

“Izaya,” Shizuo sighs. “You need to sleep. You'll hate that you said all this in the morning.”

“I'll be unhappy either way!” Izaya snaps, and Shizuo wonders where the hell this is going, or if he's ever actually...had a conversation with Izaya before? He doesn't think so, at least not one where they weren't actively trying to antagonize or kill each other. It's weird to be in Izaya's space, to smell his scent, to be able to see his eyelashes. Shizuo wishes he was drunker than he is, and then he remembers to mourn the full beer he left at the bar.

“You can't pretend like you don't know why people hate you. You've given them every reason to.” Shizuo's gaze is hard as Izaya meets his eyes. “You know that.”

“Why is it so wrong to want to see the worst parts of people? Isn't that what love is—to see those parts, the parts they want to keep hidden, and love them anyway? Can you say you love someone if you aren't willing to accept the worst of them?” Izaya asks, his grip tightening on Shizuo. “I love all those things! I love them, and everyone looks at me like I'm a monster! And then, you! You have so much love and you don't even deserve it!” Izaya finally lets Shizuo go, throws his hand away like it's poisoned.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Shizuo asks, genuinely feeling more confused than angry. “Tricking people into revealing what they hate about themselves just to use it against them won't ever get you anywhere. Aren't you supposed to be some kind of genius? How could you think that would work?”

“Nothing works anyway,” Izaya says. “You hated me before I even did anything to you, after all. Wasn't it nice of me to give you actual reasons?”

Shizuo frowns, thinking back to the day Shinra introduced them. Izaya was beside Shinra, clapping at the violence Shizuo exhibited, and Shizuo thought to himself that Izaya was making fun of him, or worse, that he liked violence when Shizuo himself hated it and couldn't escape it. Shizuo admits to himself, and has for a long time, that his hatred of Izaya wasn't justified at first. But in the end, he thinks it was instinctual, and he just knew Izaya was up to no good.

“As if you care what I think,” Shizuo says. He's ready to get out of this room. Izaya can have the bed, he doesn't even care. He's just ready to get Izaya sober and out of here.

“I do care,” Izaya says softly, and Shizuo feels his brow furrowing in disbelief.

“God, how drunk are you?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya grins.

“Very. I'm being honest with you, after all.” He reaches again for Shizuo's hand, and Shizuo debates only for a few moments before letting him have it. What's the harm? Izaya likely won't remember any of this, and keeping him complacent is in Shizuo's best interest if either of them are going to get sleep tonight.

“So you care what I think? And that means you get to try to ruin my life and get me killed all the time?” Shizuo asks as he watches Izaya drunkenly play with his fingers.

“Not all the time,” Izaya says with a pout. “I just like your attention.”

“My attention?”

Izaya laughs, traces one of Shizuo's calluses with smooth fingers. “Wasn't it effective?”

“...Go the fuck to sleep, Izaya.” Shizuo still has a headache, but now he thinks it has less to do with loud noises and the alcohol he consumed earlier and more to do with Izaya being a weirdo. He remembers now why talking to Izaya is impossible. It's all riddles and lies and bullshit. It's much easier to just try to kill him.

“Do you think I'm lying to you?” Izaya asks.

“I know you are.” Shizuo glares as Izaya kicks his legs out, narrowly missing Shizuo.

“I'm not! I just—“ He pauses before a wicked grin spreads across his face, and Shizuo's hackles rise. He keeps his eyes peeled for the glint of a knife. “I never thanked you for saving me, did I?”

“As if you'd be sincere,” Shizuo says.

“I'll give Shizu-chan something! Something he's never had.”

“I don't want—“ Shizuo is suddenly yanked forward by Izaya, who is exhibiting more strength than he should have, but Shizuo has no time to think or say anything before he feels the softness of Izaya's mouth against his own.

It's impossibly gentle. Shizuo has never kissed anyone before, but before his mind can catch up with who he's kissing, he feels Izaya's hands thread through his hair, feels Izaya shift and move closer, and when Shizuo curls his fingers in Izaya's collar to throw him against the wall, he feels himself instead pulling Izaya closer, chasing after the softness of Izaya's lips when Izaya begins to pull back.

“Mm,” Izaya hums, licking his own lips. “How's that for sincerity?”

“Izaya—you...” Shizuo's mind catches up rapidly with what happened, and he feels anger he's never felt before overtake him. “What the fuck!”

“I can't be blamed for it being subpar, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says absently. “Kiss me when I'm sober, I'll make it up to you.” He crawls under the covers, clearly not the least bit worried about Shizuo or his wrath. “I'm sleepy now.”

Shizuo roars with rage, worries about the neighbors, and then gets even angrier. He storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him as he flops face-first into the couch, screaming into the cushions.

Fucking Izaya. In the morning, Shizuo is going to be as loud as possible, is going to torture a severely hungover flea, and then he's going to make Izaya wish he'd never been born. After that, he's going to beat the fuck out of Shinra for leaving this situation up to him. As it is, he realizes he has to make sure Izaya isn't sleeping on his back, because he needs Izaya to be alive in the morning to torture.

Shizuo slips back inside the room to find Izaya is curled on his side, his face buried in Shizuo's pillow. Shizuo grimaces as he considers sleeping on the floor. After the night he's had, he convinces himself he deserves to sleep in his own bed, and if Izaya has a problem with that, Izaya can fuck right off to Hell where he belongs.

Shizuo maintains as much distance between them as he can as he settles into the bed, but Izaya doesn't move at all and is clearly dead to the world. Shizuo relaxes and comforts himself with thoughts of vengeance in the morning, and is finally able to fall asleep.

The first thing Shizuo notices when he jerks awake is that he doesn't think he's slept much at all. The room is still pitch black aside from the light flooding under the door from the bathroom. The second thing he notices is that Izaya is gone, and there's an awful retching noise coming from the next room. Sighing, Shizuo gets up, and he finds Izaya throwing up violently into the toilet, but thankfully, there isn't vomit anywhere else, so at least Izaya made it this far.

“I hoped...” Izaya rasps, “that it was a dream...and I wasn't really here...”

“Yeah,” Shizuo says. He winces as the vomiting continues. He heads to the kitchen, grabs Izaya another glass of water, and then he picks up his cigarettes and goes back to the bathroom, setting the glass beside Izaya before sitting down on the floor near him and leaning against the wall of the bathroom doorway.

“What are you doing?” Izaya asks weakly. “This is gross enough without you seeing it.”

“Barf doesn't bother me,” Shizuo says as he lights his cigarette. “Kasuka used to get sick a lot. He didn't like being by himself.”

“So you...sat with him while he vomited?” Izaya asks with a weak laugh.

“No, dipshit. I sat with him afterwards, but it's not like you'll be done anytime soon.”

Izaya looks like he wants to argue, but then he's retching once more, and Shizuo shakes his head as he takes a deep drag on his cigarette.

“I guess this is revenge enough for you ruining my night,” Shizuo says. “I might still punch you later, though.”

“That would be fair,” Izaya says softly. He folds his arms over the seat of the toilet, rests his head in them, and adds, “I'm so glad your bathroom is clean.”

“As if you could complain if it wasn't.”

“Oh, I don't know. I'm good at complaining.”

Shizuo snorts and reaches over to pet Izaya's back in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. Kasuka used to appreciate it. If Izaya minds, he doesn't say so.

“I don't suppose you have a spare toothbrush?” Izaya asks after a few silent minutes. Shizuo frowns.

“No. I don't usually have people over.”

“Mouthwash?” Izaya prompts, and Shizuo shifts to look through his cabinet under the sink, putting his cigarette in his mouth to free his hands.

“I have this kind,” Shizuo says before handing Izaya the bottle.

“This is the alcohol free version,” Izaya notes with a clear look of distaste.

“I don't like the burning.”

“The burning is how you know it's working.”

“Use it and shut the hell up!” Shizuo snaps, and Izaya sighs before doing just that. He spits into the tub and then settles back with a groan, using his foot to flush the toilet.

“I should probably get going soon,” Izaya mutters.

“Are you okay now?”

“Well, I'm as sober as I'm going to get tonight. I'm more concerned about the massive hangover I have coming my way. I doubt either of us wants me trapped here all day—“

“Hey,” Shizuo says, almost interrupting Izaya, who glares at him for it. “How often does this happen to you?”

“The drugging? Only once before.” Izaya sips at the water Shizuo got for him.

“Did...anything happen?” Shizuo asks warily.

“I don't know. It was a long time ago.”

Shizuo's expression must speak volumes, because Izaya sighs before continuing.

“I met with a client about locating someone. The story sounded far-fetched to begin with, but he was offering a lot of money, and he seemed so ordinary that I didn't think about anything happening. When he offered me tea, I drank it. And then I woke up in an alleyway outside my apartment building the next day.”

“Flea...”

“I went to the hospital and they said it didn't look like...that had happened. But other things could have.” Izaya sips again at the water. “It doesn't matter. He's dead now, and I'm still alive.”

“So that means you won or something?” Shizuo asks warily.

Izaya shrugs. “Sure. But I wasn't the one who killed him. I didn't even have a hand in it, if you believe that. Turns out he killed someone's daughter, and her father was pretty high up in the Russian mafia. He got what he deserved, in the end. If anything it was my own fault for underestimating him and not looking into him further.”

“Something like that isn't your fault!” Shizuo snaps, and when Izaya grins at him, he feels his anger rising. “It's not, okay, that's victim blaming bullshit, and if he did something to you, it's because he was fucked up and it's not to do with you!”

“But Shizu-chan,” Izaya says playfully, “I thought everything wrong was to do with me.”

“Fuck you,” Shizuo says. “This is different.”

“Unfortunately, things like that happen and will always happen. I'm usually more careful about meeting people, but foolishly I believed Touma-san wouldn't try anything in public. I suppose it could have ended up a lot worse.”

“No shit,” Shizuo says.

“And this time, I didn't wake up all alone, after all.”

Shizuo looks to Izaya, expecting him to have a playful grin or a teasing leer, but as it is, Izaya is gazing down into his water glass thoughtfully.

“I suppose I said...things. I hope you can pretend I never said them,” Izaya says.

“How much do you remember?” Shizuo asks.

“Enough to be embarrassed. I'm sure that's pleasing for you.”

“You kissed me.”

Izaya makes a choking noise that would be comical if he didn't look so mortified. Shizuo knows he isn't imagining the blush spreading across Izaya's cheeks.

“Ah, okay, we can ignore that, if you want. I was drunk.”

“Fuck that,” Shizuo says. “That was my first kiss, asshole. Take responsibility. It wasn't even good.”

Izaya chokes again, with laughter this time, and Shizuo grins back at him stupidly. What a night it's been.

“I'm afraid I can't remedy that right now unless you want to kiss me when I just threw up,” Izaya says, and his smile is so genuine that Shizuo can't look away from it.

“Wouldn't taste much worse than the first time,” Shizuo says, and Izaya laughs again.

“How cruel! Okay, I deserve that. You really are getting in all your jokes now. I thought for sure you'd draw them out a while to torture me more.”

“I will. Pretty sure that was all I had.” Shizuo flicks his cigarette into the sink and runs water over it before standing and offering a hand to Izaya. “C'mon. You can sleep here and leave tomorrow.”

“You want me to be gross here all day?” Izaya asks, looking at Shizuo's hand much like he did the night before, with wonder.

“I'll take my chances.”

Izaya takes Shizuo's hand, and Shizuo leads him back to the bed. Neither of them comments on Shizuo flopping back beside him. Someone has to make sure Izaya doesn't choke to death on vomit still, even now. Shizuo doesn't trust that it's over, and clearly Izaya isn't taking it seriously.

He falls asleep much easier than he did the first time, and he wakes once to find he's tossed an arm over Izaya and nestled behind him. Blearily, he thinks to himself that Izaya's scent isn't bad, especially when it's mixed together with his own. He doesn't move, and he falls back into unconsciousness with the bite of Izaya's scent sharp on his tongue.

When he wakes again, Izaya is gone.

***

“Really, I was impressed, Shizuo-kun! I thought for sure when you called and said you were with Izaya-kun that you would kill him!”

Shizuo is at Shinra's and Celty's place, politely drinking tea while Celty goes off on Shinra for not telling her about what was happening that night. Shizuo knows she'll forgive Shinra. She always does.

“Have you checked on him? Izaya?” Shizuo asks, interrupting them. They both turn to him.

“Not since it happened. Izaya-kun will be fine. He's always fine.”

Something about that statement infuriates him, and when he stands, his teacup hits the floor, shattering as he advances on Shinra.

“What the fuck kind of friend are you?! He was drugged, could have been raped and killed, and you were so focused on having Celty that you didn't give a shit?! That's wrong. It's so fucking wrong! No one is fine after that!”

“Shizuo, please calm down!” Celty's PDA pleads with him, but he barely glances at it.

“I'd punch your face in, but you wouldn't understand why I was doing it,” Shizuo spits at Shinra, shoving him once, but even that's enough to make Shinra topple backwards. “I'm sorry,” he says to Celty. “But he shouldn't think what he did was okay.”

He leaves before they can say anything else to him, also before he can do more damage, and he doesn't even know why he cares so much. Izaya is awful, has ruined so many lives, including Shizuo's. But when he thinks back to all the shitty things, he sees Izaya's crying face as clear as day, feels the depth of that loneliness, because he's felt that way before too, like an outsider looking in no matter what he tries. And sure, it doesn't excuse or forgive anything, but after seeing an actual human side of Izaya, it's impossible to pretend he doesn't care at all.

His feet carry him home, and he's surprised to look up and see Izaya standing outside his door, a paper bag in hand.

“Ah, I hoped you'd still be out,” Izaya says, and he holds the bag up. “Your clothes. I washed them. I thought it was the least I could do.”

“Thanks,” Shizuo says, feeling dumb as he takes the bag. He can't stop staring at Izaya, who looks as he always does, infuriatingly smug and not a hair out of place.

“Right. Well, we can put this behind us now! Next time I see you, I'll fully expect you to be trying to bash my head in.” Izaya smirks at him before trying to walk around him, and Shizuo finds himself grabbing Izaya's coat sleeve.

“Wait. You still haven't accepted responsibility,” Shizuo blurts, and Izaya gazes up at him confusedly.

“About— oh. What would you like me to do? Let you punch me?”

“No, I already almost punched Shinra just now. I think punching is starting to lose its luster.” Shizuo keeps hold of Izaya, tries and fails to think of how to articulate what he wants. He isn't good with words, never has been, but for once in his life, Izaya being so damn perceptive comes in handy.

“I see. So then, would you accept dinner? On me, of course, to make up for my many transgressions.” Izaya's wearing that smile again, the real one, and Shizuo finds himself laughing.

“There isn't enough money in the world to buy enough food that you'd need for that,” Shizuo says, and his grip on Izaya morphs into something less harsh until it's more of a gentle touch on Izaya's arm than anything else.

“It might take a few dinners,” Izaya says, nodding in agreement.

“More than a few.”

“Well then,” Izaya says, turning and reaching behind himself to tug on Shizuo. “Shall we?”

#shizaya #Shizuo Heiwajima #Izaya Orihara #Roofies/date rape drug #this is probably the softest fic i can write of these babes lol #happy bday izaya here's some drugs

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mythicamagic · 4 years

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Love Boats: Sesskag Oneshot

Rated T

Word Count: 1,400

Summary: As the fierce Captain of the Shikon Jewel, Kagome must defend it from the various dangers of the seven seas; namely the blood-thirsty Captain Taisho. Sesskag complete fluff/silly scenario for @stormielikeweather‘s Boat extravaganza

Love Boats

Water lapped at the sides of the ship, the vast ocean quiet and undisturbed save for the slight waves. No birds flew overhead. The crew sat around, eating their meals and gambling with rambunctious, breathy laughter. Kagome leaned over the side slightly, inhaling the salty sea air and relaxing, if only for a moment.

The relative peace of the breeze brushing through her hair and catching in the material of her jacket was broken by a shout.

"Captain! Starboard side!"

Her shoulders stiffened. That kind of frantic tone only happened when an incoming threat loomed close.

"I think it's the Western Voyager, they were on the horizon a moment ago I swear!"

Kagome frowned, taking out a telescope and crossing the length of the deck with a few quick strides. Sure enough, a mighty, aristocratic-looking ship gained on them. A black flag fluttered proudly for all to see, much like their own, sporting a skull and cross-bones.

"She's well known for her speed. We won't be able to outrun her," Kagome called up to the man in the crows-nest. Her attention then returned to the mighty ship, excitement curling in her stomach.

She started upon feeling her jacket being tugged, "what should we do, Captain?" Her first-mate asked, blue eyes wide but brave.

Kagome smiled, "the Shikon no Tama shall stand and fight! All hands on deck! Weigh anchor! Hoist the sails! Ready the cannons!"

A commotion broke out as every available sailor rushed to their stations, boots thundering upon the wooden deck.

----

It wasn't long before cannon fire broke out, explosions rocking each ship as debris flew into the air.

Soon the bloodthirsty pirates aboard the Western Voyager boarded her prized ship. Fighting broke out, swords striking through flesh. Kagome kicked a man away from her, swiping an arm out and leaving him in a heap on the floor. She panted, stumbling and leaning heavily against the mast. Putting a hand to her side and glancing at the plume of red leaking into her clothes, she grimaced. They had impressive numbers, she'd give them that. The only one that truly worried her, however, was their infamous Captain-

Something prodded at the spot under her ribs then, hot breath fanning over the back of her neck. "We meet again, Shikon Miko."

The way his voice lingered on her title sent a chill down Kagome's spine. The barrel of the gun pressed harder, a large hand catching her wrist as she attempted to move- trapping her arm behind her back. "In the past, you've proved to be a more formidable opponent. Perhaps it was your lack of time to prepare that made you such a sloppy, easy target," he purred in silken tones.

"Captain Taisho," she grit out. "You think your battle plans are superior, huh?"

Something fluttered in her stomach when lips grazed her ear. "Naturally, unless I'm supposed to be impressed by your crew's incompetence."

Sesshoumaru spoke in the tone one would reserve for a lover, quiet and soft. Kagome twisted in his hold, shooting him a glare. A calm, half-lidded smirk was painted upon his cruel, handsome face, and Kagome had to catch her breath slightly at how...intimate it all felt. Silver hair slid forward from behind his ear to mingle with her own. He always knew how to pluck the right chords within her to stir a response.

That smirk grew when she felt her face getting hot, but she repressed it. Focus.

Her lips tugged up at the edges, causing him to raise a brow.

"Captain!"

Her first-mate stood on the Western Voyager's railing. Oddly enough, it seemed as though her entire crew had crossed over onto the vessel, fighting his men.

Captain Kagome stamped down hard on the pirate lord's foot, swinging her elbow back into his chest and stumbling out of reach once she was freed. Backing up, she pulled out a match from within her jacket. "Maybe you should check what's at your feet before questioning my tactics."

Golden eyes narrowed, sliding down to the deck.

"That's right. It's gunpowder," she pointed out the obvious dramatically. "I guarantee it leads below deck to dynamite. One clumsy twitch of my hand and we go boom," Kagome smiled.

"You're bluffing."

"Am I?" She arched a brow in challenge, staring him down. "We're the only ones here, I don't have anyone to protect right now. Your ship is pulling away. I could rid the world of one of the most fearsome pirate lords of the seven seas and my men will claim the bounty on your head, setting them up for life. They could put this all behind them."

"You'd do that at the cost of your own life?"

Kagome didn't flinch, the very ocean waves seeming to roll and crash through the thunderous blue of her eyes. Slowly, she nodded.

Sesshoumaru glanced at his departing ship, which looked to have been taken over by her crew. He then shifted, putting the gun away.

Kagome grinned in victory, a second before he drew his sword- striking an arm out. The match was sliced in two, falling to the floor and instantly igniting the trail of gunpowder. Kagome gaped, "you lit the fuse!"

Appearing in front of her, her opponent brought his sword in to block off her escape at her back. "Indeed," his breath danced over her lips, mingling with her own. "What a dramatic way to die."

Kagome blushed and shuddered as that tempting mouth of his skimmed the line of her jaw. Slowly, she relaxed against him, waiting for the end…for the explosion of terror and fire to rock the-

"Mamaaaa," her first mate whined, putting small hands on his hips ina very unimpressed manner. "And you too, Papa. You're being gross again."

"Mn?" Kagome blinked dreamily. Tilting her head to look at their son, she bit her lip at the sight of him leaning against the plastic helm, pouting. The vast seas surrounding them melted away in her mind, replaced with the park. The playground was quiet today, the skies overcast and the weather slightly chilly. Kagome shifted her feet on the large fake boat that took up residence in the centre, feeling her face heat up. "W-we were just being uh…"

"Authentic," Sesshoumaru uttered. Strong arms tightened around her, his 'sword' actually a stick.

Their son, Touma, huffed. He then crossed his arms, "what does that mean?"

Sesshoumaru's teeth scraped his wife's sensitive neck, causing her to jump and giggle. "It means that even in an alternative universe, your mother and this one would act the same."

Kagome squirmed and grinned, swatting his shoulder playfully. "Cheesy," she kissed his cheek.

Touma shook his head with dismay, turning to go play on the swings instead. At least they wouldn't start a torrid love affair in the middle of playtime. It was quite frankly unprofessional.

His parents remained as they were, a little enamoured despite having found each other again years before. City life could get so busy, her Time distracting and loud in comparison with the feudal era, but they never allowed their attention to stray too long.

"Speaking of authenticity," Sesshoumaru's velvet tone lifted as though amused, fangs scraping her jaw, followed by his lips. "I am quite certain pirates did not use matches."

"We're playing pretend with our kid, doesn't have to be completely accurate." Kagome smoothed her hand over the demon's shoulder. "Would you have really waited for the ship to blow up? Doesn't seem like your style."

"No, we were interrupted from the part where this one picks you up and flies away. We could have watched the explosion from miles away."

Rolling her eyes, she grinned. "Pirates can't fly, Sesshoumaru."

He huffed, nipping the shell of her ear. "This one can," he claimed her lips in a kiss then, gathering her closer. "Your plan was quite chaotic and self-sacrificing to the point of idiocy. How did you intend to benefit from it if I'd flown away and left you to perish on your ship?" He mumbled against her mouth, running blunt nails down her back.

Kagome brushed her tongue against his, leaning into that familiar, steady warmth she'd become so comforted by. "Oh, you wouldn't have done that. Like you said, even in an alternate universe, we'd be the same way. And…" she pressed her forgotten stick or 'gun' into his shoulder blade. "After you rescued me I'd have a demon lord to play enemies to lovers with. Sounds like I'd have a lot to benefit from."

His eyes flashed, lips curving as fangs lengthed to close down on flushed skin, leaving a love bite.

End

#sesskag #sesskagboatday #sesshoumaru x kagome #Sesskag fanfiction #Sesshoumaru #Kagome higurashi

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btskismet · 4 years

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Kismet (Chapter 24) : A BTS Jin imagines fanfic

First ever fanfic. Contains some fluff, violence and smut. Please read sequentially as it is a long story arc. Please provide feedback! My IG is btskismet.

November 20, 1944

Days passed and Jun-seok knew he was head over heels for her. He denied it every single day when he woke up but as soon as he looked over to the other side of his quarters and saw her curled up body sleeping in the other mat, he totally would change his mind. Each day the Captain told him to keep her there, the more he learned about her that got him so enamored with her.

His orders to get the other Korean soldiers to change their loyalties to Lt. Akagi was even slightly set aside from his mind because of her. He knew that it was disobeying what the Shosa and the Captain set out for him, but he couldn’t do it since he would always go back to his quarters as soon as he finished work in the makeshift hangars of the planes.

Every morning, after having a quick breakfast in his quarters with her, he left to go to the hangar to work on the plane engines. Officer Watanabe was able to get some of the engines for repair but the hangars were 1 hour away from camp and it was quite difficult to go back to camp if he had several engines or plane parts to repair. He worried about being away too long from the camp as she was alone in his quarters. He only hoped that the cook was protecting her as well since she was quite the asset - quick learner and really interested in making herself useful. She studied the recipes for the meals of the soldiers and even cooked more than once this week, as the cook was starting to like her enthusiasm in doing more work that he thought she would put in.

Officer Watanabe allowed him to leave a little earlier than the other soldiers as they were both concerned when it was time for dinner. The mess hall tent was filled with many soldiers during dinner and some would visit the cook every now and then to ask for more condiments or food. If they knew that a woman was in there, it would definitely become dangerous for her.

So, he'd leave an hour before dinner was served and be at the kitchen to see her helping the cook. The cook, who always looked stressed during dinnertime, would be asking her to speed up on preparation as there were always several dishes served in the mess hall tent. There was also the meals for the Shosa and General to be prepared if they were in camp.

Everytime Jun-seok would arrive, she and the cook would let out a sigh of relief since Jun-seok always helped in the kitchen. He had skills in cooking and the cook was grateful to get an extra pair of hands to help.

After the dinner rush, the two of them would retire to the quarters and have their own quiet meal together. But it never stays as quiet as they always had something to laugh about and learn from each other.

He found out that she was the youngest of the three daughters her father has and she was the only one who didn’t have her own family. Her sisters wed the heirs of the other coffee plantation owners in the province and have their own kids. As the youngest, she made her father proud by learning about growing coffee and roasting it properly. When the Americans invaded them, she learned their language as easily as possible and even worked in a cafe for the GIs. When the Japanese invaded, she had to resort to helping her father in the Mayor’s office, especially when it came to the coffee farmers she knew very well. She pushed herself to learn Nihonggo so she could communicate for the farmers and to understand what the soldiers and officers would ask for so relations between them would be smoother.

“I noticed that if I learned your language, Japanese soldiers would be nicer to me and the people I speak for. I know in other provinces, they have had it tough with so many of them being killed or hurt, just because they didn’t know how to speak to the soldiers. But some can be very brutal...”, she said to Jun-seok that night during dinner.

Jun-seok felt a little embarrassed to hear how other people were treated as he was part of the army. But he also had a feeling of disdain for the whole army, as he was from a country that was subjugated by the Japanese as well.

“I know what you mean and how difficult it is.”, he said to her as he was grabbing some seaweed from the bowl in front of him as they were eating dinner.

“How would you know how difficult it is, Ittohei?”, she asked quizzically, not understanding his meaning.

He looked up and realized he said too much. It took her a couple of seconds to realize it and then she asked, “Ittohei, I’m sorry to ask but... are you Japanese?”

Jun-seok could see how smart and well-informed this lady is. She figured it out from just one statement that he probably wasn’t but wanted to be sure. It is expected from Koreans like him that they should say either two things to respond to this type of question: Yes, he is Japanese and No, he is not but he is a proud Japanese citizen.

Both were lies and left a bad taste in his mouth.

He looked around before saying a flat no to her.

She nodded and started awkwardly eating her rice with her chopsticks (she learned to use them in a matter of days), quietly considering his response. Based on the way she reacted, Jun-seok knew she was thinking if she would ask where he was really from.

“Are you Korean just like Akagi-san?” she asked pointedly and put down her bowl and chopsticks just to wait for him to respond.

“How did you know he’s Korean?”, he asked. “People talk. We all know that the Koreans in the army have been physically hurting us more because they seem to be getting a lot of pain and pressure from the Japanese soldiers. I know they have much to be angry about with their superiors and even your country also occupied by the Japanese. But it’s not fair to take it out on my people.”

Jun-seok contemplated this. She seemed well informed about a lot of things in the Japanese army and the government. Guess that’s what you get for working in a government office.

“Will you mind change about me if you knew I was Korean?”, he asked her.

“I’m not going to lie - I don’t like the Koreans as much as I don’t like the Japanese who are here. I am just thankful we are generally treated better than others. But... you are not like them. I don’t think you’ve been here long enough to truly know how it’s like here. That’s why you’re still very kind.” She looked at him plainly and he realized this is the woman he met that first day when she was defending the old man who was beaten up by the Japanese soldier. He saw in her face the visible sadness that she was carrying that was caused by all the atrocities done to her community.

“I’m sorry. I really don’t know what to say.”, Jun-seok hung his head and felt helpless.

“Don’t be sorry. You just follow your superiors like everyone else.”, she said. “Is my father dead?”

Jun-seok looked at her and vehemently said no. “He’s absolutely fine. Trust me on this.”

“Alright. Does he think I’m dead?”, she asked him. “No, he thinks you’re missing and went to the mountains to your relatives who are there.”

She became quiet for a couple of minutes and continued eating. Jun-seok felt a little nauseated as the answers he provided her were definitely not ideal. He was now concerned that she might escape, now that she knows that her father is still alive.

“Is the Shosa keeping me here because he thinks I’ll tell my father and go to the mountains to start a revolt?”, she asked a little angrily.

“Well, more of tell your father and people might revolt after. Not really you leading it.”

She had a bit of a scowl on her face and said annoyingly, “The Shosa should’ve known me better than this. No matter how much anger and pain I feel from the death of the farmers and their families that day... I wouldn’t even dream having people revolt against you.”

Jun-seok became quiet and she might have seen on his face his unspoken question of why.

“Because if we did, we are going to lose and more people will die. I am not about to place the lives of my community at risk that way. This is also the reason I haven’t left and I’m just waiting for you to tell me when I can go home. I would rather wait for the time the Japanese army is done fighting or if they give up. They sooner will do so anyway.”

Her words reminded him of his father who worked hard to keep the peace and co-exist with the Japanese to keep his family safe. He understood how that was and knew he was doing the same thing.

“Yes, I am Korean.”, he said to her calmly.

“Alright then. So, what’s your real name? I know that Touma Sakurai is your Japanese name and since I will still be staying here until you all decide what to do with me, I think I need to meet the Korean that’s in front of me.”

This woman never ceases to amaze me, Jun-seok thought. He felt his heart being tugged again by her casual confidence and bravery.

“My name is Kim Jun-seok.”, he said.

She reached out her right hand. Jun-seok didn’t quite grasp this and she told him to stretch out his right hand. She took his right hand and placed it in hers. Then she shook it and introduced herself.

“That is a handshake, my friend. It’s my way of saying it’s nice to meet you, Jun-seok.”, she said after.

Jun-seok liked hearing her say his name. As he was feeling the softness of her small hand in his, he couldn’t help but move his thumb over her hand and knuckles, feeling the soft skin.

She noticed this but didn’t let go of his hand. She looked at their hands together and smiled a little as he did this.

“You’ve never had a handshake before?”, she asked him coyly.

He swayed his head with a smile. She laughed a little and told him that after they shake hands, it’s customary to let go.

Jun-seok suddenly let go of her hand and said sorry and she giggled. Jun-seok could feel his face and ears getting red because of embarrassment and this made her laugh more.

“Hey, don’t worry. It’s an American custom and at least I shared something new to you. Not just you teaching me your cooking all the time.”, she said sweetly.

She just doesn’t know how much she’s taught me already, Jun-seok thought.

---- to be continued ----

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discotenny · 4 years

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Corner Store [2]

Description: Arthur Kirkland had owned and run a corner store for the past 15 years. He is determined to go through the rest of his life with minimal change. However, when he takes notice of three high school boys, his world gets turned around as he tries to piece back his life in a way that he thinks it's supposed to be. Word Count: 2.5k+ Warnings: Obsessive behavior, underlying issues, panic attacks, divorce, OCD, I don’t know perhaps slight blood mention? Characters in Chapter: Arthur Kirkland[Britain], Francis Bonnefoy[France], Feliciano Vargas[North Italy], Lovino Vargas[South Italy], Elizabeta Héderváry[Hungary], Yao Wang[China], Roderich Edelstein[Austria]. Characters Mentioned: Matthias Nilsson[Denmark], Gilbert Beilschmidt[Prussia], Alfred Jones[USA], Peter Kirkland[Sealand], Toumas Nilsson[Finland], Kiku Honda[Japan] Ship/s Mentioned: AusHun[Elizabeta & Roderich]{Brief interaction} AU: !Corner Store AU! !Human AU!

I doubt I’m going to finish this story though haha. It was fun to write, and there was a third chapter planned to post[ perhaps I’ll post a bonus later or something], though Hetalia has been in the back of my mind with the creation of this blog. Don’t worry babsies [is that the plural form of babs?] Mod Ioten will post BSD stuff soon lol

Despite the disruption in peace yesterday, Arthur opened the store with a smile on his face. Francis followed shortly, clocking in while Arthur was eating his morning sandwich and drinking his first cup of tea of the day. “Bonjour mon ami!” Francis hummed, walking in from the back.

“Did Alfred get home okay?” Arthur couldn’t help but ask, blowing on his tea before taking a sip.

Francis’s eyes softened, and he looked down at the coffee in his hand. “Yes, he is alright. Merci Arthur for allowing him to wait here with his friends. I will have to call Matthias’s guardian to share my thanks as well.”

Arthur coughed a little bit, choking on his tea a bit. “I-It’s no big deal,” Arthur got out through coughs. “I would want someone to do the same for my own son if the same situation arose with him.”

The Frenchman looked up in surprise, “You have a little boy as well?”

Reaching into his wallet, he pulled out a small Christmas photo taken last year. “His name is Peter, Alfred acts quite a bit like him,” He chuckled, handing it to Francis.

“He’s a beautiful boy…” Francis mumbled, looking over the photo. “Is this your wife?” He asked, pointing at the woman who held her hair neatly in a partial ponytail.

Arthur looked away awkwardly, “Oh- uh. Yes. Peter is much closer to her than me.” He didn’t really want to discuss any more of it, so he attempted to change the subject. “Are you close with Alfred? He talks about you a lot.”

“He talks… about me?” Francis seemed shocked. A spark lit inside, and these eyes opened wider than before.

“Does he usually not?” Arthur questioned, setting down his tea.

“Alfred at home is much more… let’s say reserved at home. He doesn’t talk much nowadays.” Francis took a drink of his beverage, turning around to begin his shift.

Arthur leaned over the counter to look at Francis going to the other side of the store. “The fruit needs to be rearranged to make it look like there’s more than we actually have!”

He waved Arthur off, and the man relaxed a little bit. Finishing up his breakfast sandwich, Arthur got up to begin sweeping the floor. There were forty-five minutes before the store had to open up; Arthur could prepare it in twenty. Thinking back to yesterday, he took note that Francis was right in that the store had an odd sour smell to it. He would never admit it though, but the itchiness in his palm crept back into his mind. He tried to rub it against the broom handle, seeking some, any relief from the result of the new revelation. However, nothing seemed to help him. In Arthur’s frustration, he stomped over to the back room. Mumbling curses to himself, he grabbed a can of air freshener and started spraying around the store.

Francis watched in bewilderment at the scene, freezing while still holding an apple. “Mon ami I do not know if it is my place to speak on your…choices. But what are you doing spraying that can like a mad man?”

“The store smells bad” Arthur mumbled, turning to the direction of Francis, getting ready to spray.

“Hey hey hey! You will poison our produce!” Francis grabbed Arthur’s shoulders, turning him around. “What is wrong with you!”

Arthur scrunched up his face when the powerful waft of fresh linen hit his nostrils. He started coughing, crouching over. “We can open a little bit later if it helps you ca-”

“No!” Arthur yelled, shooting back up. “We-” He coughed a little bit more, “We can’t afford to open later than the morning rush!”

Although it made moderate sense to Francis and was a good enough reason for him to back off, Arthur knew that wasn’t the truth. It wouldn’t be normal for him to open up the store later than 6:30 in the morning. It wouldn’t be right. “To get rid of this…aroma, may I suggest we turn on our air?” Francis suggested, and Arthur begrudgingly agreed. Francis looked on in concern as Arthur sludged over to the thermostat, turning and twisting knobbles and bobs. He knew the signs of trouble when he saw it.

Though the owner and his employee found themselves in hot water in the morning, that didn’t stop Arthur from opening up at 6:30 AM. Sitting at the counter, he sipped at his tea waiting for the customers to roll in.

A few moments later, the sound of the bell that filled him with so much joy rang; and he was filled with the euphoria that rushed over him every time a body entered. As customers filed themselves in, each one took a look at their preferred groceries. A line began to form as the first batch of customers gathered their usual items, some chatting casually with each other as they waited for Arthur to check them out.

His first customers were a pair of twins that he knew very well. The Vargas brothers, one more comfortable in the public atmosphere than the other.

“Buongiorno signore Arthur!” Feliciano set down a bag of biscotti and a sewing kit. As he bounced and made small comments of the climate of the day, his brother bashfully brought a bag of tomatoes to the counter. The twins were students who used to babysit Peter before he went off to elementary, so Arthur knew them on a more personal level than the rest of his customers. “The weather has been unpredictable lately,” Feliciano whispered, rattling his hand on the counter.

“Indeed it has,” Arthur mused, weighing the bag of tomatoes and slapping a sticker noting that it was paid on the front. “If I’m correct it’s supposed to clear up by the end of the afternoon. It’ll be a nice change of pace from all of the rain we’ve been getting.” Arthur smiled to himself as he continued the routine he’s been doing for the past fifteen years. Checking out and conversation, what more could a man need?

“Really!” Feliciano gasped excitedly and grabbed his brother’s arm. “Lovi, we can play football together then!”

His brother, Lovino, looked at him angrily. “I told you not to call me that dumbass!” He said it in a whisper, though most people around the twins could hear their conversation. Lovino jerked his arm away from his brother, who still held the excited demeanor as before.

“Your total is 12.94,” Arthur gave a polite nod to the pair as they scrambled to get their money out. With random coins and a couple of bills, their groceries were paid with exact change. “Have a nice day you boys!”

“Say hi to Peter for me! Ciao!~” The two grabbed their respective items and walked out the door, Feliciano chatting to himself while Lovino took a bite out of one of the tomatoes he had bought.

As the two walked out, the same lady who had bought his gummy bear supply walked up to the counter. She didn’t hold anything in her hand, and there wasn’t anything on the countertop either. “Hello miss, can I help you with anything today?” Despite his polite form, Arthur’s hand began to itch at the prospect of something wrong with the customer’s visit.

The young lady ducked under the counter, and Arthur leaned to see what she was doing. She was snickering to herself, and placed down the box of gummy rolls that Gilbert had purchased yesterday. She was just about to pull out her money to pay for the rolls until someone called her name, causing her to turn around.

“Elizabeta! Can you pay for this too?”

A tall, awkward man emerged from the end of the line, walking slowly up to the girl. He seemed to be in poor health, heaving with every step he took; as if just being alive took a heavy toll on him. Elizabeta sighed, taking his energy drink and cheese stick and placing it down onto the counter. “Are you okay Roderich?” She asked, reaching her hand up to caress his face as Arthur scanned their items.

“I’m fine,” He sighed, batting Elizabeta’s hand away. “Thank you for paying.” Roderich leaned into her as she got her pocket money out.

“Are you a fan of these gummies?” Arthur asked as he was halfway through scanning the 34 rolls in the box.

Elizabeta laughed, “Oh no I’m not. I have a friend who is a big fan of them though. A couple bucks to see his face when he comes to school, finding out I bought all of his favorite candies, is worth it all the way.”

Arthur smiled to himself at the childish scheme. “Well, as long as I’m getting the money for the product,” he laughed along. “Would you like separate bags?”

Elizabeta and Roderich looked at each other before Roderich turned to Arthur, replying with a short no thank you. “Very well then,” Arthur smiled, carefully placing all of the gummy rolls around the boy’s Red Bull and cheese. When the exchange of money and product finished, Arthur waved goodbye to the pair. Roderich and Elizabeta turned around to say a quick goodbye. Arthur saw them lace their fingers together, and he smiled seeing them casually walkout.

The morning rush continued with familiar faces, casual acquaintances, and the same customers who would always come in the morning. Arthur felt good, despite the incidents in the morning and yesterday afternoon.

Time seemed to fly by as he and Francis guided people into making purchases, cleaning the store in the downtime, and checking out customers. Soon enough, Francis had to leave to pick up his son from school; and Arthur was left to his own thoughts.

His mind steeped into unhealthy territory. Every single detail of his life, every single constant he thought over as he drank his tea and ate his afternoon sandwich. He smiled as he reminded himself that nothing would be changing, that everything would and could not shift.

It couldn’t happen; he wouldn’t allow it.

He thought over the boys that he’d grown fond of. A shift, maybe, but a slightly more pleasant one than the changes he’s used to. But he had thought it over, saw where they would fit in his world that never changed.

They would come in every day, that's a plus. Always ordering the same items? Even better. Then he thought further. What would happen when he would retire? What would happen when the boys graduated? What would happen when the divorce went through, and he could only see his son for three days every week?

Arthur stopped moving when his teacup was six inches from his face. He sucked his breath in, and slowly set his cup down. He felt an itch creep up into his palm, worse than all of his other incidents. He couldn’t breathe. He had to get out of such a suffocating environment. As if he was in a daze, Arthur stood up and walked towards the door. Reaching towards the sign hanging on the inside of the door, he turned it so that the ‘open’ sign faced him. He finally allowed himself to let the air in his lungs flow out. He opened the door and walked through, turning around to lock it. He scratched his hand, walking through the streets of his familiar town with a thick haze surrounding his aura.

Arthur was wandering for a while. He didn’t know how far he’d walked until he found himself at the intersection which separated the stores from the roads leading to the major highway. Turning around, Arthur found himself at his rival’s grocery. Waddling in, he kept quiet. A bell sound, different from the one he had in his store rang. The smell was completely different too.

Why was he here? Arthur couldn’t answer the question himself. He had the afternoon rush to wait for after all. However, it was too late to turn back, he’d already entered the store and caught the attention of the clerk.

“Arthur Kirkland.” He turned to the side, seeing the Chinese man that tormented his business for the past 10 years. “Come to buy something different than European product?” Yao asked, folding his arms on the counter.

“I-I…” Arthur stuttered out, not able to come up with something suitable to say. With a cocky brow raise, Yao stood up and made his way over to the unusual guest.

“If you are looking for something we have it,” Yao said proudly. “You want bowl? Soap to brighten skin? I have Kiku cut pig blood for your cooking!”

“No thank you…” Arthur moved his arm in a shooing motion.

“You walk into my grocery and say you not need any,” Yao rolled his eyes, growing frustrated with the Brit. “Why are you even here?”

Arthur stood stiff, staring at the store, at the unfamiliarity of it all. Walking off, he wandered deeper into the aisles of foreign goods. Boxes of products he’s never seen, lines of items he wouldn’t dare to carry in his store; he leaned against a shelf for support. Faintly, he could hear Yao yell a little and then give up, walking back to his counter.

Suddenly, his whole body itched, and no matter how much he tried to relieve himself, the uncomfortable sensation never ceased. His nails dug into his skin as he scratched vigorously at his palms. In addition to his discomfort, he felt skin break and a stinging feeling begin to set in. He stumbled into the next aisle, scanning the items to try and find some sense of familiarity. Boxes of medicinal tea lined the shelves, and he was comforted somewhat by the leaves he used every morning. Then he found it.

He ran towards a box that held the black tea he drank every morning and held it as if it was gold. Shaking, he palmed his pants to see if he had his wallet. He felt a wave of relief when he felt the bump in his pocket.

Arthur walked over to the counter, presenting Yao with a hesitant smile. The man behind the counter looked at him through suspicious eyes, and took the credit card Arthur held out. “What bring you to my grocery today Mr. Kirkland?” A thick Chinese accent laced the man’s tone. Arthur found it funny that the long ponytail that Yao held his hair in swayed whenever he spoke.

“A-” Arthur found his throat to be unusually dry. “A change of pace is good sometimes.”

Yao didn’t reply, only humming as he handed back the card, giving Arthur his tea in a plastic bag.

Quickly, Arthur bid Yao goodbye and ran towards his own establishment. While the itchy feeling never went away, the dryness in his throat sure did with the enormous amount of tea he drank when he got back.

He almost forgot to turn the open sign back around before sitting down at the counter. Everything was okay, Arthur told himself. All he had to do was wait for the afternoon rush.

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pangtasias-atelier · 4 years

Note

Hello, I would like to request a dabble of Rowan in a suit and tie with the summoner. Like a sequel. The summoner removes his spell from the other guys before they left, Rowan came to the party after it was over. The summoner lets Rowen keep the ability to change his size himself so he can make it up to him. Like the others, Rowan is cocky, has huge pecs, and loves to hug. They spend the next day with size and muscle shenanigans in comparison to the others. Thank you 🙂

The requester asked for first person with changing perspectives. I’m admittedly rusty with 1st person PoV, so I hope it still came out well. Probably won’t be seeing much of this style from me lol

Sorry this took so long, hope you enjoy it!

____________

Seeing Sharena happily chat with Feh, the Askrian princess cooing at the strange owl, I can’t help but speed up my pace. Sharena always punctual with her time with Feh, then my lack of punctuality is true. Going from a steady walk to a rushed jog, my pecs bounce with every heavy foot that comes crashing down onto the tile. The tight clothing the summoner had given to me creases and stretches in my rush. Clothes far more formal than I'm used to, the summoner had gifted me a suit and a tie. The new garbs are admittedly a bit of more dubious quality but I’ve never cared for such things; thankfully, neither has Lianna. A simple black suit, that's a bit too tight but I kind of prefer it like that now. Under that is a plain white button up, the buttons strain from my pecs. Not that the sleeves aren't straining either, the fabric taut around my skin. A yellow-mustard tie reminiscent of my old tunic, the thin fabric kind of gets lost in between my pecs. And it is sometimes a bit too tight around my thick neck. Black slacks for pants, the admittedly soft fabric strains just as much as my sleeves, my powerful legs nearly visible with how tight they are. And when I run, well, I may have been the unwitting subject of one of commander Anna’s attempts at raising money for the order. Knowing the summoner’s capabilities, I wouldn’t put it past him to have my suit enchanted for it to rise up every so often. Or for the summoner to make my clothes always a bit too small but never rippable. Not that I complain much. Or at all really, having the ability to grow larger is amazing. Mowing down others in battle has never been easier.

My second sighting on my way is seeing the other of the summoner’s favorites walk out of their room. A few spotting me, they either grin at me to taunt, or sigh. The former mostly being Ranulf, the laguz enjoying taking part in any sort of joke or laugh. The latter being Hinata and Touma, both of them just as terrible, if not worse, with being on time than I am. But that doesn’t matter, even next to them, I’m still taller and buffer. Touma may be somewhat close but I still got about half a head of height on him.

Barreling inside the summoner’s room, he completely ignores me! His shoulder is colder than even Brunnya’s nasty Fimbulvetr. I clear my throat, steadying myself.

“I’m so sorry!” Throwing myself on the floor, I’m sure any of the servants back in Aytolis would gawk at me, but they also haven’t seen an upset summoner. “I was sparring with Ike and we both lost track of the time and I,” Clearing my throat I stand on one knee and grab the summoner’s hands. They both feel so small in mine. “I promise I’ll make it up to you,” Both of my eyes closed, I slowly open them as the summoner doesn’t respond.

“Hmm,” They move their hands from mine, slowly tapping their finger against their cheek. Looking down, the little twitch at the end of their lips is slightly upturned. “Well, I guess I can make an exception,”

The summoner standing up, they beam at me. Being their favorite makes this stuff a bit too easy I feel but, it’s worth it. Reaching down, the effort of scooping them into my arms feels just as easy as arm wrestling one of the laguz.

Before I even had time to process Rowan’s bulky frame moving, he already had me in a vice-like grip. My feet hanging off the ground, my head ends up smushed into his meaty pecs, each alone larger than my head. And although he apologizes afterwards, his over enthusiastic nature gives away his lack of apologeticness.

“We’ve still got plenty of time left in the day!” Rowan shouts, one hand pointing forward as he once again picks me up. A bit gentler this time, he slowly lifts me up before letting me down on his broad shoulders. “Now, hang on tight,” Giving me a piggyback ride as if I was nothing more than a child, which wouldn’t be the worst comparison taking into account Rowan’s muscular size, he rushes forward. Listening to him, I take his advice further, hanging on for my dear life as Rowan storms through hallways. His long powerful legs aiding his form, he makes quick work to arrive at our destination in a short manner.

Feeling like jello, my legs shake as Rowan slowly places me on the ground. Glancing around, I spot the usual vibe and vigor of the training grounds. But no, to be more exact, we’re in the weight room. The place is a favorite of the stronger heroes in the order. And especially of the heroes I may have given the special ability to change their size. Though, no one has complained about such a thing, so I feel we’re in the clear.

The room is filled with less heroes than usual due to lunch being served in the mess hall right now. Bartre is the first to spot Rowan, the older man guffawing and slapping Rowan’s back in cheer. Gerik soon approaches, far less boisterous than Barte, Muarim approaches me, diverting my attention.

“Ah, summoner, you’re doing well it seems,” Muarim pats my head, the tiger smiling.

“Yeah, I’m glad to see you’re doing fine too. I feel like I don’t see you too often in here,” Muarim chuckles at my question.

“With you summoning more often, I can’t let myself fall behind,” I can’t help but stifle a laughter at Muarim’s concern.

“It’s more likely for Askr to suffer a snowstorm than for you of all people to fall far behind, Muarim,” He grins down at me, nodding his head in appreciation.

“Yo, are you two gonna join us or what?” Rowan now at the opposite end of the room. Gerik stands beside him, while Barte is lying down on a bench. The metal clanks as he lets the bar down.

“Hah, stack another 25!” Gerik and Rowan listening to him, they both put a 25 weight on each end of the bar. Bartre positions himself, taking deep breaths. His knuckles turning white, he slowly lifts the bar up. Muscling bulging, Bartre guffaws as he lifts the bar all the way up, letting it slam down on the rack.

“Damn, three hundred pounds old man. You still have it in you,” Gerik commends Bartre, both of them grinning.

“Can’t let my fellow CHOP members upstage me,” Barte purposefully flexes his bicep, his veins popping. “Now, it’s your turn,” Gerik pushed forward, he gives in.

“Alright alright. Don’t be disappointed when you find out you’re stronger than me,”

Standing next to Rowan, his own excitement oozes onto me, waiting for his turn. “Someone is giddy,” Rowan grins at me, bouncing a pec.

“Not as much as you’ll be when I win,”

Gerik grunting brings my attention back to him. The weights unaltered from Bartre’s impressive, three hundred lift, he slowly brings it up just as Bartre just did. At the crest, he slowly brings the bar back down unlike Bartre. Letting out a ragged breath, Gerik grins back at the rest of us. “New I wouldn’t be able to lift higher, but we got Muarim and Rowan to make us feel like mages,”

With the cheers of the others aiding him, Muarim sighs before giving into peer pressure. Not even bothering with the bar, he begins adding weights onto both sides without a thought. Counting the weights, Muarim has four hundred and fifty on his bar. His defined chest close to it, he takes one single breath before calmly lifting the bar. Strain only slightly visible from a few beads of sweat, Muarim slowly brings the bar down. He lets out a sigh, his face flushes afterwards. Not from any sort of strenuous effort but from Gerik’s and Bartre’s cheers.

“Four hundred-fifty!” Bartre slinks an arm around Muarim, pushing shoulders against him.

“Thanks,” Muarim, shyly tosses. “But that’s nothing compared to Rowan,” Quickly deflecting the attention away from himself, I fall for it too, immediately turning to Rowan.

Rowan not standing beside me anymore, he’s already lying down on the bench. The fram clearly not made for someone of his size, the bench feels more like a chair, his broad defined back splaying off of it. His legs jutting off the end of it, he spread them wide as he grips the bar. The bar is already raised from Rowan’s chest resting under them. His arm span ridiculously long, he has to grip the bar nearly at its ends. The silliness of the sight goes forgotten as Rowan lifts up his bar with ease. Several weights packed onto each end, the bar bends on both ends even with the machine guiding the bar and giving it support. Slowly bringing it back down, Rowan escapes without a single sweat, his wide grin focused at me.

Gerik’s piercing whistle breaks the silence. “Seven hundred,” A whoop and another slap on the back from Bartre is thrown Rowan’s way, Rowan far too proud.

Eventually, the others head on out to the dining hall.

Everyone else finally gone, I beam down at the summoner. Grabbing their hand, I lead them to the pull up bar.

“Hang on to me,” The summoner confused, they slowly process my words before doing so. Twice as wide as them, it’s a bit hard for them but they do eventually manage. Unable to see them under my chest, the top of their head rests under them. Hanging onto the pullup bar, my feet still graze the floor even while holding my legs as high as I can. Pulling my entire body up, the effort is admittedly a bit harder than weight with so much muscle crammed onto me, but I still don’t break a sweat. Going as much as I can, the summoner’s faltering grip has me stop. Letting go, I place them back on the ground. Their face flushed, I cheekily grin at them.

“One more thing,”

“It better not be pushups again,” The summoner smiles back at me, us having done this once more.

“No,” Lying, I look around for something to do on the spot. Finding nothing, an idea fills my head as I look back at the summoner. “Just ten reps,” Grabbing them, they let out a puff of air as I hold them by their legs in my left hand and by the shoulder in my right hand. Making sure my form is perfect, I hold my hands out straight and slowly curl the summoner. Disgruntled, their face is still red, the summoner unwilling to look me in the eyes. Nothing more than a feather to me, the ten reps end faster than they started. Putting them back down again, I grab their hand before they can fuss.

The summoner confused, their short steps makes it hard for them to keep up with my quick gait. Lifting them up, a simple classic bridal style makes them quiet down, their face flushed as I practically cradle them in my massive arms, my pecs as a pillow. Heading back to their room, I go at a decent pace.

In Rowan’s arms, I keep quiet, unbothered by the development. The instant we reach my room, he lets me back down but not before Rowan lets out a loud yawn. More performative than realistic, I scoff at him.

“I think it’s time for a nap,” Sauntering to my bed, Rowan even bounces his bubble butt, his cheer radiating off of him. Lying down on my bed, the frame slightly dips from his weight but holds. Though his feet hang far off the mattress. “Let me get you a nicer, bigger bed,”

Taking advantage of the growing magic I’ve gifted him, Rowan grows larger. His already bulky frame appears massive as he gains extra width, each muscle suddenly more powerful than before. His biceps grow even larger, past the size of my head, the pack of muscles lining his beefy arms feel so densely packed and condensed. His broad shoulders widen to accommodate such a high amount of mass, Rowan’s powerful thighs widen as well, the already tight pants suddenly that much tighter. Yet his pecs are the focal point for Rowan, the area his and my favorite. His massive jugs for pecs lightly dig into his chin, his pecs a testament to his monstrous, powerful size. My bed dips a good chunk more now with Rowan’s larger size. His suit still fits him just fine, the fabric is even more stretched than before, but the spell to never rip holds perfectly, Rowan's suit growing with him. Though his tie feel comical on him, the thin strip of fabric not even making it past his pecs.

Letting out a chuckle, I join him. His arms instinctively wrapping around me, he moves me so that my head rests partially against his pecs. My back resting on the rockbed of Rowan's abs, the hard surface isn't the most comfortable, but taking a nap with Rowan is far from the worst thing in the world. The act is actually incredibly worth the slight discomfort. Trapped behind Rowan's thick biceps, I make myself comfortable my eyes drooping as I look forward to the rest of the day.

#my writing #buff!rowan #buff emblem

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cheshiresense · 5 years

Note

I guess the fandom has a thing for Ichigo redeeming the seemingly unredeemable? (I know I do.) Besides, Koyonagi is really interesting. I'm looking forward to more of him and Touma in your work :D (PS: would you ever be willing to expand on Hungry!Tsuna? I just keep thinking about what Reborn said about Fon and possessive storms and really, how could Fon dislike Tsuna? honestly I just want to see poor Tsuna taken care of, and the more possessive guardians the better xD )

OKAY. FON. FIRST MEETING. *cracks knuckles* actually no i hate that, eventhe sound of someone else doing it makes my hands itch and my inner pianistcringe so idk how about fancy stretches instead And more Reborn&Viper. Forsome reason I just keep going back to them.

Pinglist:@yoshifics @bewarethemandragora @runeofluna@selenedreamwalker @hypnos28 @verticallychallengedintrovert@fandommaniac2401 @lovingempress @cynthia-of-the-wallflowers@shadowsofmoonracer @pairp @warriorofbooks @charlottedabookworm @lyra689 @sheyrenawyrsabane @sora-the-empress @xadriannax @yumeniai @arrysa @lirial89-fanfiction @skysong246 @caiahat @grimreaper19 @arosethornbyanyothername @mtkiseki @kaminoko-x@nesskyru @tatarako @parklena42 @zibeth-a @aerdnanocte @timegrenades@healingmichiko @shiko-rae @soraofmelody @fandoms-make-the-world-go-round @north-peach @yannilicious @wolfsrainrules @anaissesteighart

Tsuna’s health has been good, getting better,especially after a tentative Guardian bond formed with Viper.

(”Don’t you have a contract with the Varia?”

“Arcobaleno business takes precedence. It’s even in the fineprint. Legal cause to resign, even if Vongola won’t like it. Don’t youhave a contract with the Nono?”

“…”

“Exactly. And both our resignations have clearly been lostin the mail. So quit trying to get rid of me.”)

But it’s not enough. Tsuna comes down with a fever on aMonday. It’s not a bad one, nothing like the spikes in temperature Reborn hadto deal with back when it was just him and Tsuna. As much as it… disgruntleshim to admit it, even just to himself, Viper’s presence helps.

But even a second Arcobaleno can’t fill the sheer amount ofFlames that Tsuna needs to live. And it probably doesn’t help that he refusesto eat as much of their Flames as Reborn and Viper are willing to offer, stillinsisting on going the catch-a-criminal-stranger route most of the time. It’s aconstant battle to get Tsuna to feed on them even just four times a week,although Reborn supposes even that’s a victory worth celebrating consideringback when they first decided on this method, Tsuna had pushed for once a fortnight.

(It doesn’t hurt as much these days, as it did the firsttime Reborn broke off a piece of his own Sun core. He’s wondered on occasion ifmaybe it’s just because he’s done it one too many times and has numbed himselfto it. He doesn’t think so - it’s not the kind of thing one can get usedto, as his experience with Luce can attest to - but this is new territory forall of them. All he knows is that the more time he spends with Tsuna, thestronger their bond becomes, which makes sense, obviously, but also, thestronger that bond becomes, the less it hurts when he offers Tsuna his ownFlames. Nowadays, it feels less like he’s breaking off a piece of his very souland more like… he’s exchanging it. When he gives his Sun Flames to Tsuna,it’s almost as if Tsuna’s own Flames automatically reach out to fill what heloses, and he recovers that much faster because of it.

He’s talked about it to Viper, who admits it’s nowhere nearas violating as it was with Luce, which they’d braced themselves for the firsttime they offered a terribly dismayed Tsuna their Flames. If the process hurtsthe illusionist at all, they haven’t said, and Reborn hasn’t seen any signs ofit.)

As it is, Tsuna might not be anywhere near as sick as hecould be, but Reborn still made the executive decision to pull him out ofschool and confine him to bedrest for the day. There’s no need to push theirluck.

On his part, Tsuna sleeps. He grumbled a little earlierabout overprotective mother hens, but he drifted off almost as soon as he wasushered back to bed. He doesn’t stir for most of the rest of the day, but thatalso means he doesn’t jerk awake vomiting black Flames so Reborn would cautiouslycall it a success.

On the other hand, Viper - not so much. Tsuna wasunderweight and plagued with exhaustion on and off since the illusionistarrived, but he’s gotten better since then, with Reborn as a crutch, and thenViper later on. This is the first time Viper’s seen Tsuna’s health take anosedive in a way Luce never did even at the end of her life.

“Would it help if he ate more?” Viper asks, and it’s onlybecause Reborn has known them for so long that he can hear the tension beneaththe clinical monotone.

Reborn checks Tsuna’s temperature again. “He’ll be fine.”

Viper glares. “That isn’t what I asked.”

Reborn reminds himself that he was probably just as out ofhis depth as Viper currently feels back when he was first learning how to takecare of Tsuna. That doesn’t prevent his answer from coming out just a touch toosharply, “He’s eating four proper meals a week; what do you think?”

“Then-”

“We’re not force-feeding him unless he’s on the brink ofdeath,” Reborn cuts him off. He slants an uncompromising look at Viper,ignoring the way the room seems to darken threateningly for a moment. “Tsunasaid no. We can argue about it, but we aren’t going to disregard his opinionanytime we please.” He reaches up and tilts his fedora down over his eyes. “Wearen’t Luce.”

He doesn’t need to see it to know Viper has to suppress aflinch back. “This is different.”

Reborn sighs, more tired than irritated now. “Not sodifferent.”

“It would be for his own good!” Viper hisses, and somethingin Reborn marvels at that. Even back when they didn’t know about Arcobaleno andthe Tri-Ni-Sette and Checkerface, when they didn’t know what Luce was luringthem into, Viper never concerned themselves with Luce’s wellbeing to thisextent. Maybe that was because Luce was never in this kind of situation, neversick when they still would’ve cared, but perhaps too it should’ve been a clue,a warning.

“And Luce did what she did because she believed it was forthe good of the world,” Reborn points out harshly, and this time Viper doesflinch. The silence that follows feels almost chastised.

I was here first, Reborn doesn’t say. I’ve beenwith him longest, even if that doesn’t mean much because he’s been alone somuch longer. But I was the one who saw him at his worst, not you. Do you thinkI don’t want him healthy and strong and not starving any less than youdo? Do you think I don’t want to shove as much of my Flames into him as ittakes to make him full for the first damn time in over half a decade?

But consent means something a little extra to himthese days, and when it comes down to it - Luce forced them to feed her topreserve herself and the world. Reborn won’t force Tsuna to eat just so theycan preserve Tsuna. Not unless there’s no other way. He’s selfish andpossessive enough to admit that. And at least for now, regular, propermeals - however few - seem to be helping enough to see some signs ofimprovement. Until that changes, drastically enough to require intervention,Reborn will respect Tsuna’s wishes.

Don’t you understand, you fool? I never want Tsuna tolook at me the way we all looked at Luce in the end.

He doesn’t say any of this out loud of course. It revealstoo much of himself, and he’s never been that close to the other Arcobaleno.

“Make yourself useful and pass me another ice pack,” Heorders instead.

Viper glowers, bristling at being told what to do. But inthe end, they look at Tsuna, paler than he’s been in a while, Flames flutteringunsteadily against their senses, and a moment later, the illusionist concedesand tosses Reborn an ice pack before busying themselves with opening the windowfor some fresh air but also tossing some Mist Flames around to keep the draft out.

Then they both settle down to wait.

The doorbell rings, just past four in the afternoon, butthey both know who it is. They eye each other for a moment before Viper clickstheir tongue in annoyance but capitulates and goes to get the door. Nana is outshopping, but even if she wasn’t, it isn’t as if she would’ve done anythingexcept let her visitor right on in.

Sometimes, Reborn wonders how she’s even still alive.

Downstairs, Viper opens the door and demands flatly, “What.”

Standing on the doorstep like there’s nowhere else he’drather be, Fon smiles. “Good afternoon, Viper.”

Viper stares woodenly at him and doesn’t budge. Fon’s smilewidens. His eyes remain as cold and calculating as Reborn’s at his worst.

“Colonello called me,” Fon continues, and Viper thinksuncharitably that they should’ve trapped the idiot in his worst nightmaresuntil he forgot he ever stumbled on them at Mafia Land.

They ignore the fact that if they were in Colonello’s oreven Fon’s place - and they were, a mere three months ago - they would’vewanted to know about all this too.

It’s different now. They’re Tsunayoshi’s Mist Guardian now,properly bonded in a way Viper never was with Luce. There was a bond there,yes, but there was also always a nagging sense of wrongness that Viperwas a fool for ignoring just because they’d finally found a Sky that seemedworth following and also wanted them. They’d dismissed their ownintuition, reasoning that the bond just needed more time to settle, and itwasn’t until it was far too late to back out that they realized why - a Flamebond forged on a foundation of lies is no real bond at all.

Tsunayoshi is different from Luce in every conceivable way.And if Fon is here to give him any kind of trouble, even just to sate his ownmorbid curiosity instead of staying away, especially today, he’ll haveto deal with Viper first.

“-about the Sky Arcobaleno,” Fon is saying. “And how he’s…different. Since I was in the area, I thought I would drop by and see formyself.”

Viper scoffs. “He’s unavailable at the moment. Come againlater.”

Fon’s smile doesn’t falter but it does thin a little.“Viper.”

“Fon.” Viper echoes flatly, and neither of them gives aninch.

Fon shakes his head, and for the first time, his smileslides off his face, and a flicker of something that teeters betweenfrustration and challenge slips past that iron-clad control of his. “I’m theStorm Arcobaleno, I have the right to see him.”

“And I’m his Mist Guardian,” Viper counters, and apart of them revels in the spark of pride that that title brings. “You’ll seehim when he wants to see you, and I have no qualms about enforcing that.”

They stare at each other for a moment. Something in Fon’s expressionspeaks of genuine surprise, like he didn’t expect Viper to put up this much ofa fuss, even though Colonello almost certainly sensed their Flame bonds andthen told the others.

“And Sawada-san does not wish to see me?” Fonenquires after a moment.

Viper gives nothing away. “He’s busy.”

Fon stares at them some more, and then stares past them atthe stairs leading up to the second floor.

This close, Viper wonders if he can sense the disturbance inTsunayoshi’s Flames.

Fon looks at them again, and for just a second, it looksalmost like he’s willing to try and force his way past Viper. But only for asecond, and then his genial expression returns. He takes a step back, inclineshis head, and says, “Another time then. I have some work to do nearby anyway.My private number is the same.” He smiles even as his eyes narrow in warning.“Do remember to call me when Sawada-san is available again, Viper. Good day toyou.”

Viper watches him go, not shutting the door until they can’tsense the Storm in the vicinity anymore.

Reborn says nothing when they return, but Viper supposes -somewhat sardonically - that’s a compliment in itself.

Not that Viper needs Reborn’s approval. But at least thisway, the hitman doesn’t open his mouth or open fire and very likelyannoy Viper enough to retaliate.

Their Sky needs all the rest he can get after all.

Tsuna recovers in a few days and agrees to meet Fon over theweekend.

At Takesushi.

With Reborn and Viper at the other end of the restaurant, andthat only because they refused to wait outside or let Tsuna go alone.

“Are you sure about this?” Reborn grumbles. They’d shown upearly and settled themselves at the bar table where Reborn has taken todisassembling and reassembling one of his handguns under the faintly alarmedeye of the sushi chef. Tsuna has no idea why the guy hasn’t called the cops onthem yet or even remarked about toddlers playing with “toy” firearms, but he’salso spent the past six-plus years living with the fact that nobody in thistown is capable of noticing anything out of the ordinary, and even if they are,they certainly can’t be bothered to say anything about it, so really, this ispar for the course.

Besides, Tsuna has faith in Reborn’s ability to talk himselfout of any trouble he might get into.

“I’m sure,” He says instead. “If he’s come all this way tosee me, I think I should at least meet him, right?”

“Don’t say that like it was much of a hardship for him,”Reborn scoffs. “Besides, he has family in town.”

Tsuna blinks. “What, really?”

“The Hibari family,” Viper says from where they’re perusingthe menu. “You know one of them, don’t you?”

Tsuna blanches a little. “H- Hibari-san is Fon-san’srelative?”

Hibari Kyouya has never paid much attention to Tsuna, asblind as the rest of this town to his oddities, but everyone knows aboutthe prefect’s violent proclivities in the name of discipline.

“Yes,” Reborn answers. “A great-nephew, I think. To be fair,Fon has rarely visited since he became an Arcobaleno. But Namimori isn’t new tohim.”

Tsuna digests this silently and wonders if Fon will be likeHibari Kyouya, easy to anger, quick to strike. Viper did say Fon was polite,when Tsuna asked what the Storm Arcobaleno was like, but the way they said itmade Tsuna think they actually meant it as an insult.

On the other hand, Viper says almost everything like it’s aninsult.

Privately, Tsuna contemplates the odds of Fon being morelike Reborn or more like Viper. Reborn, who refused to run and stubbornlypowered through even the worst of Tsuna’s episodes and was the first to chooseto give up a part of himself just to ease Tsuna’s hunger? Or Viper, who neverslept in the same house for the first two months and looked at Tsuna like theycouldn’t decide whether to attack or flee but still came back every single daylike they couldn’t help themselves until they learned to trust him?

Or maybe Fon would be neither, more like Colonello instead,so terribly, horrifyingly afraid, more than a little confused, and - unlikeReborn and Viper both - with enough self-preservation and sense to actuallystay away.

The latter, he hopes, and ignores those tiny parts of himthat are somehow still capable of hoping for something else entirely.

(Five and empty and tripping over everything, six andhurting and tired, eight and desperate, ten and starving, thirteen and aloneand standing on a bridge, wondering if death might be better.)

It would be selfish. More than Tsuna deserves. And he’salready dragged two people into this. He can’t do anything about Reborn andViper anymore, and he knows that the two of them are split between a possessivesort of satisfaction that Colonello hasn’t come after them and contemptuousdisdain for the same reason.

Fon though…

The door of the restaurant slides open. Viper stiffens andhalf-turns. Reborn doesn’t but the last piece of the gun he’s been handlingsnaps ominously into place just as Fon walks in.

“Promise you won’t eavesdrop?” Tsuna checks.

Reborn rolls his eyes while Viper sighs.

“You never spoke to me privately,” The illusionistcomplains.

Yeah, and look how that turned out, Tsuna doesn’tsay.

“You were too scared to speak to him privately,” Rebornpoints out because at heart, he is a troll. Viper tries to stab him with theirchopsticks.

It’s Tsuna’s turn rolls his eyes. He glances quickly at Fon,who’s caught sight of them and looks about ready to come over and join them.The Storm… really does look quite a bit like a miniature Hibari. He’s wearing ared Pacifier, and his hair’s tied back in a braid, but the biggest differencewould probably be the fact that he doesn’t look ready to beat up everybody inthe vicinity for breathing the wrong way.

“Guys,” Tsuna insists, and this time, Reborn and Viper heavetwin sighs even as they get up to leave.

“Fine,” Reborn says, clearly displeased as he pins Fon withan unblinking stare. He still has his gun out. “We’ll be at that booth. Screamif you need help.”

“I will not scream,” Tsuna mumbles sullenly. Justbecause his voice hasn’t broken yet, and he had the misfortune of beingstartled by one of Reborn’s cockroach spies in the house the other day. A lot ofpeople are scared of cockroaches. Not all, but that doesn’t mean the rest wantto cuddle them either.

He watches them take up residence in the corner booth,smiles weakly at the sushi chef who’s raised an eyebrow at them but doesn’tcomment, and then takes a deep breath and turns to greet Fon.

Fon hops up onto the bar table, murmurs a polite thanks whenone of the waiters comes by with a fresh cup of green tea, and then settles downcross-legged before turning all his focus on Sawada Tsunayoshi.

So, this is the new Sky Arcobaleno. To be honest, he doesn’tseem very impressive. The first time Fon met Luce, her Flames - gentle but strongin a way that couldn’t be ignored - tugged at him like the summer tide on theshore, playful and welcoming. Tsunayoshi’s Flames… well, Fon can barely feelthem. Which is strange because Colonello said he could sense the Guardian bondsthat the Sky Arcobaleno has with both Reborn and Viper. Fon thinks he can feelthem, when he concentrates, but they’re like wisps of smoke, nothing like thepowerful, stable connections Colonello talked about.

If Fon didn’t have a name and facial description to go by,he would’ve walked right past this boy without sensing anything out of theordinary about him. He has almost no presence, his features aren’t particularlystriking (and in fact there’s a tired gauntness about his face that suggests hemight be recovering from an illness), and he’s fidgeting nervously under Fon’sgaze even though Fon made sure he was at his most disarming best before he evenentered the restaurant.

Definitely civilian born and bred, although it is curious -one would think if the boy was anxious about meeting him, he would want Rebornand Viper with him.

“So, hi,” Tsunayoshi finally blurts out. “I’m SawadaTsunayoshi. Nice to meet you.”

Fon inclines his head. “I am Fon. Thank you for taking thetime to meet me.”

“Oh, I- There’s no need to thank me for that,” The boyhurries out. “I was- I was a bit sick earlier; that’s why Viper turned youaway. But I would’ve met you then if I could’ve.” He pauses uncertainly for amoment. “I’m not really sure why you’d wanna meet me though? Did you havequestions?”

Fon smiles, but that just seems to make Tsunayoshiuncomfortable. “Not particularly. I simply wished to meet you. It is not sostrange, is it? For a Guardian to meet their Sky?”

That gets a bigger reaction. Tsunayoshi jerks back as ifstung, and out of the corner of his eye, Fon sees a very deliberate flash of amuzzle pointing his way. He ignores it.

“But you’re not!” Tsunayoshi bursts out, and he actuallylooks faintly disturbed. “We just met! And I know that’s not how itworks, Reborn explained it to me, I don’t- I don’t inherit you from-from Luce-san.” His hand goes to the Pacifier around his neck, tapping absentlyat it for a moment. “So, I guess what I’m saying is, you don’t have to stay oranything.”

Fon considers him for a second, then nods over his shoulder.“But you don’t mind Reborn or Viper staying?”

Tsunayoshi’s expression twists into something resigned and distraughtand somehow angrily happy all at the same time. “I don’t think I had much of achoice,” He mumbles, fiddling with the napkin in front of him now. “Reborn wasreally angry with me the one time I tried to kick him out. And Viper sort ofinserted themself into my life before I really noticed.”

He straightens and seems to shake his odd mood off. “Butanyway, they- Reborn and Viper, they chose to stay, but that doesn’t meananybody else has to too, just because I’m the Sky Arcobaleno. I mean, things aren’teven that interesting in Namimori. And my life is especially boring. All I dois go to school and go home and train a bit with Reborn and Viper on the side.I’m not even eligible for Vongola Decimo anymore, obviously, so there’s notreally any point in hanging around.”

He trails off, and his expression shifts into somethingexpectant, like he half-thinks Fon is going to turn and march out the door,just like that.

Fon arches an eyebrow. But, well, this is interesting too.And half the reason he came here at all, isn’t it?

“And if I also choose to stay?” He enquires.

Tsunayoshi’s shoulders go tight. “I- Well, I mean, you can,of course.” His legs kick against the barstool. “Are- Are you going to?”

Fon hums noncommittally. “Perhaps. If nothing else, it willbe a chance to catch up with old friends.”

“Oh,” Tsunayoshi murmurs, and everything about him suddenlygoes still, down to his hands and the napkin he’s been wringing between them.

Fon tenses, just a little, but he continues smiling, keepinghis expression mild. “There’s no need to sound so disappointed, Sawada-san. Youwon’t even give me a chance?”

Tsunayoshi stares for a moment longer at the table, afaraway look in his eyes, and then he glances back at Fon with a weak smile.“That’s not it. Like I said, of course you’re welcome to stay if you want. Areyou staying at a hotel? Or- Or with your family? Reborn and Viper mentioned them. Or youcan come visit my place-”

Fon listens to the boy ramble on, and when it happens, well,it happens so slowly he doesn’t even notice until-

There are Flames, he realizes abruptly, rippling like aheatwave in the air between them, and when he looks sharply up at Tsunayoshiagain, the darkness in those brown eyes makes him jerk back.

Because he’s seen that look before - hungry and relentlesslike the gaping maw of a slavering beast - and Fon is its helpless prey, pinneddown and unable to do anything but take it.

He scrambles to his feet, uncharacteristic panic making himclumsy. He didn’t even know when he lowered his guard enough to be taken off-guard.But then, Luce was unassuming as well. In this, Tsunayoshi is apparently thesame, just in a different way, and Fon should be better than this.

In a flash, even as his breath feels like it’s stalling inhis lungs, his mind jumps between every exit he marked when he first came in -front door, back door, two windows, easily broken - but he also knows there’snowhere he can run.

He knew, from the start, that it was foolish to come here.When he got the call from Colonello, every sensible instinct in him told him toget as far away from Japan as physically possible. But he also heard aboutReborn and Viper and genuine Guardian bonds, and neither of them were stupid,they would never fall for the same tricks again, especially Reborn. Yetthey’d taken their Sky to an amusement park, for all intents and purposes justa fun day out, and then by the sounds of it even treating him to dinner. Viperwas even going to pay for a hotel, for a trip detour that certainly wasn’tnecessary.

And they’d been protective, Colonello had said, protectiveof their Sky even against a fellow Arcobaleno, and indulgent in a way thatspoke of real affection.

And Fon - as much as he was tempted to simply hang up anddisappear - stayed on the phone and questioned Colonello twice about everyaspect and observation of the short encounter, and by the end of it, a thoughthad trickled in, unbidden - was it just Reborn and Viper, bonded with the newSky Arcobaleno? Or did he have others already?

Did he have a Storm?

And something in him snarled at the very idea of anyoneencroaching on what was essentially his territory. It seemed likesomething Reborn might do too, if that protective streak of his reared its headtoo much - dig up some other elements with strong potential and train them uphimself instead of waiting for the other Arcobaleno, whom the hitman would knowfull well might never come at all and would probably run in the oppositedirection if confronted with the very notion of bonding with the SkyArcobaleno.

And before Fon knew it, he was on a flight to Japan. Heexperienced firsthand Viper’s bristling defensiveness, and even if he didn’tsee Reborn until now, he also sensed the hitman like one would an aggressiveneon-bright warning sign in the background, and even if neither of those things puthim entirely at ease, they were still points in favour of Sawada Tsunayoshi.

Besides, Colonello swore up and down that the new Sky nevereven tried to eat his Flames, that Reborn and Viper’s Flames weren’t theravaged mess Luce consistently left them in either when she fed on them.

Fon still should’ve known better. But he was curious, andfoolish, and no matter the calm he likes to portray to the world, he’s still aStorm, and a Hibari to boot, with all the jealously guarded covetous instinctsof each.

(Because he thought, just for a moment - maybe this one’sdifferent. And in the end, such a pathetic hope was what drove him hereafter all.

Checkerface knew exactly the kind of people to prey on,didn’t he?)

He looks at the Sky Arcobaleno once more, at that yawninghunger that Luce wore so well, and he backs away, preparing to leap to thefloor and out the nearest window as quickly as he can, shattered glass bedamned, even as he braces for the nauseous sensation of an insatiable Skytearing away at his Flames once more.

He takes a step-

-and stops.

Tsunayoshi is still watching him. He’s sitting there andwatching him with Sky-stained eyes that burn with a bottomless appetite,and Fon should be running, out of this restaurant, this town, this country,anywhere but in the direct line of sight of the Sky Arcobaleno, and yet-

Civilian, born and bred, and so Fon catches it, just aglimpse, lurking underneath the ravaging hunger - guilt. It’s there, inthe lines of his face and the pinch of his mouth, determination and regrettwined together and running just as deep as his hunger, and that is whatmakes Fon stop.

Because in all the time he knew her, Luce never regrettedwhat she did to them.

And he thinks: Reborn and Viper stayed - why?

He turns back, faces the greedy rush of Flames bearing downon him with a terrifying weight only he can feel, and even as his heart poundsin his chest and remembered revulsion rises in his throat, he doesn’t move.

They brush against his Flames, grasping fingers full of adesperate sort of want, but then - abruptly - it’s as if they slam intoan invisible wall, and between one breath and the next, they’re yanked back like the snap of a rubber band.

Tsunayoshi falls off his chair, and Fon gets a singlewide-eyed look of shocked disbelief before the boy crashes to the ground andFon suddenly has a gun at his head and a cold tendril of Mist curling aroundhis neck like a noose.

“What did you do?” Reborn demands, and his infantilevoice resonates for just a moment with the deeper near-forgotten timbre of theman he once was.

People are turning to look. Viper - on the floor and helpingTsunayoshi up - waves an irritated hand, and the civilians lose interestimmediately.

“Tsunayoshi? Are you alright? What happened?” Their eyes arestill hooded, but when their head lifts in Fon’s direction, Fon can sense thechill in them. Their Mist Flames remain a threat around his neck, and Reborn’sgun doesn’t waver.

But Fon only has eyes for the boy pushing himself up into asitting position, three shades paler, hands shaking, and Flames - good godhis Flames - like a whole forest of plum blossoms in full bloom, all beauty andcolour, deceptively delicate but fierce and resolute in the dead of winter, andabsolutely unwavering in the way they thread themselves with Reborn’s Sun andViper’s Mist.

Fon finds his voice, and it comes out hoarser than heexpects but he doesn’t care. “Did you just try to frighten me intoleaving?”

Tsunayoshi flinches.

Fon huffs an almost unsteady laugh, feeling light-headed andthrown off balance for the first time in decades.

“I think,” He muses, casually disintegrating Viper’s Mistnoose with a spark of his own Flames and stepping lightly away from Reborn’sgun and dawning realization. “I would very much like to stay after all,Tsunayoshi-san.”

Tsunayoshi makes an incoherent sound of despair, and Fonthinks he knows why now. He’ll have to apologize though; he won’t be going anywhereanytime soon. Not when this Sky Arcobaleno’s first instinct when it came to Fon was to protect.

#OMG THIS GOT SO FUCKING LONG #myscrap #headcanon #is this even a fucking headcanon anymore #prob not #but it's what i labelled the first two so it's a fucking headcanon gdi #khr #sawada tsunayoshi #reborn #viper #fon #msg #raz-ia #hunger verse

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pocket-luv101 · 5 years

Text

Summary: Mahiru visits his old home and discovers Touma is his dad. (KuroMahi)

“Nothing has changed. There’s a lot of weeds in the yard though.” Mahiru said as he walked through the gate. He looked over the simple bungalow that he lived in with his mother. After his uncle adopted him, he moved out of the quaint house. He hadn’t returned since he was a child. He thought that it was a shame that the house had been empty for such a long time. “Hopefully, the dust won’t be too bad.”

“I should remind you that we’re only staying the night so you don’t need to clean this entire house. Knowing you, you would think about it.” He joked and Mahiru rolled his eyes. While Kuro was speaking in a teasing tone, he watched Mahiru’s expression carefully. He could only imagine what he was feeling now that they were in his childhood home.

The house had a small yard and he pictured a young Mahiru playing there. Kuro knew how much Mahiru loved his mother and there were likely bittersweet memories in the house. He wanted to ask him how he felt but he thought that it was best to wait. Mahiru would wait for him to be comfortable before they talk and that helped him. Hopefully, he could do the same for Mahiru.

“I don’t know why C3 couldn’t ask your uncle or someone else to pick up those files.” He pointed out.

Mahiru reminded him, “My uncle is busy and he can’t drive all the way to the countryside. Thinking simply, I should be the one to retrieve the files since I know this house well. What I want to know is how he could forget important documents here. Uncle Toru would visit us a lot and play with me. I never imagined he was fighting vampires. I’m still trying to process it.”

He unlocked the door and they walked through the door. Kuro opened the curtains and let light into the home. While he did that, Mahiru pulled a white cloth off the furniture. Dust leapt into the air and made him cough slightly. It wasn’t much but Kuro patted his back tenderly. Mahiru smiled at him and said, “I’m fine. Thank you, Kuro.”

“This is cozy.” The compliment made Mahiru smile. Kuro placed their bags on the couch. Since the house was on the edge of the city, they had to take a train. They decided to stay at the house for the night and take the train home the next morning. He rubbed his stiff neck and groaned, “That chair was impossible to sleep in. Do you want to order dinner now or search for that file first?”

“Uncle already told me where it likely is. Hopefully, the documents will help us learn how to contain the Jinn released and heal your siblings. You can order take out while I get it.” Mahiru said and Kuro nodded. He preferred to cook dinner for them but the house wasn’t equipped with food. He reminisced about a simpler time and the memories were bittersweet.

Mahiru walked to the cabinet and pulled open the bottom drawer. He found a few books and small items he didn’t pack when he moved out. His uncle helped him pack back then and Mahiru couldn’t be more grateful for his support. “Oh, what’s this?”

Kuro knelt next to Mahiru and looked over his shoulder. A photo album was tucked into the corner of the drawer. He knew how important his mother was to him so he was surprised he hadn’t taken it with him. But Mahiru didn’t recognize the album. He flipped it open and the first picture was of his mother. “This looks like photos from when my mom and uncle were in high school.”

“You get a lot from your mother’s side of the family.” He mused as they flipped through the album. “Are there any baby pictures of you here?”

“I think this is Mom’s photo album from her high school days.” Mahiru didn’t know if his uncle merely forgot or if it was too painful to take. His mother’s death was difficult for both of them but he didn’t see his uncle’s pain because he was only a child. But they became a family and helped each other move past their mourning. “I should bring this home. Simply put, there must be important memories in here.”

“Photos can be made in seconds these days. In the past, we had to sit for hours in front of a painter. Lily made us pose for a portrait once.” Kuro regretted that they didn’t record more memories together. He didn’t have many pictures with his family because they had to keep their existence a secret. If someone discovered a photo of them from centuries ago, they would ask questions.

When he explained that to Mahiru, he said, “It’s never too late to make memories and take photos with your siblings. After this war is over, we should take group photo with everyone. Right now, we need to find that file and help your siblings recover their Jinn.”

A knock woke Kuro later that night. He groaned loudly but he did his best to fight against the haze of sleep. It was likely Mahiru knocking on his door since he was the only other person in the house. Kuro opened the door and he was standing there like he predicted. He wasn’t expecting Mahiru to look so pale and shaken though. He immediately reached out to him. “Are you okay, Mahiru?”

He didn’t answer him aside from shaking his head. He stepped aside and let him into the room. Mahiru walked to the bed and he sank onto the mattress. Kuro noticed that he was clutching a photo and his hands were trembling. He turned on a lamp and saw that it was a photo of his mother holding an infant. He guessed that it was Mahiru. “Do you miss your mother?”

Mahiru turned the photograph around so he could see the writing on the back. August 7th. Our son is a month old now. Mahiru has your nose, Touma.

Kuro gasped when he read the name. He looked from the photo to Mahiru who was still silent. He touched his arm and wished he was better with words. What could he say in this situation? Mahiru’s hands stopped shaking but Kuro knew that he was still trying to process the meaning behind the words. Touma was his father.

Mahiru did the last thing Kuro expected he would. He laughed bitterly. “When I used Elpis and entered his mind, he tried to taunt me with my father. ‘Your father is a terrible, wicked man.’ If only I knew the truth then, I would’ve punched him a second time for making Mom’s life difficult.”

“I’ll hold him down for you.” Kuro offered and Mahiru made a strained laugh. His brown eyes didn’t hold the same warmth it usually did whenever he smiled. He shifted closer to him and leaned against his arm. Mahiru wrapped his arms tightly around Kuro’s waist, wanting to borrow his strength and composure.

“After my mom died, I accepted that I would never learn who my father was. Isn’t it ironic? I learned who my father was but I still can’t ask him anything. He’s dead.” A tiny sigh escaped Mahiru. “There’s a lot of things I wanted to ask my father but I doubt I would forgive him no matter what he said. I just wanted to have a few answers like why he left us.”

“There are a few things you can be certain about.” Kuro wrapped his hand around Mahiru’s. He guided his hand and urged him to turn the picture again. “Your mom loved you.”

“She was a great mother and she did her best to raise me by herself.” Mahiru nodded and finally smiled.

A few minutes earlier, he had been looking through the old photo album and then he discovered the truth. His world spun until he was dizzy and confused. Everything he thought he knew suddenly became questionable to him. As he worried over the possibilities, he instinctively went to Kuro. He knew he could rely on him when things became confusing. Kuro protected him throughout all the supernatural scenarios they found themselves in.

“Thank you for talking with me about this.” Mahiru said.

“I didn’t say much. We can both agree that you’re better with words and comforting others.” Despite his protests, Mahiru shook his head. He sat up and stretched his arms over his head. He placed the photo on the bedside table and then laid back on the bed. The tension Mahiru felt was almost gone and there was one more thing he wanted to ask Kuro.

“Is it alright if we have a little sleepover in your room? I would like to talk a little longer.”

“This is your house so you can sleep wherever you want.” Kuro shrugged but his answer made Mahiru smile. He jumped to his feet and walked out of the room. Mahiru soon returned with a heavy futon and pillows. Kuro helped him when he almost tripped over the blanket. He spread out the futon but Kuro laid down on it before Mahiru could. “You take the bed.”

“But the bed would be more comfortable for you. I don’t mind sleeping on the futon.” Mahiru insisted and nudged his shoulder. Kuro grunted and pulled his blanket over his head. Even if he didn’t say anything, he knew that Kuro was being thoughtful and kind. He smiled and climbed onto the bed. Mahiru leaned over the edge slightly and tapped Kuro’s shoulder. “What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?”

“Maybe doughnuts. I don’t know if we can find anything good at the station tomorrow.” He pushed the blanket off him and saw Mahiru staring back at him. The light from the lamp softened his face and there was a warm glow on his skin. Kuro whispered, “How are you feeling?”

“I already came to terms with my father a long time ago. The only thing that changed is that I have a face and a name for him.” Mahiru reassured him. He closed his eyes but he felt Kuro lock their fingers together. His touch was light but also warm and comforting. “I’m my own person. If I ever adopt a child, I’ll never abandon them.”

“You’re already act like a mother hen with our friends so you’ll be a great parent.” The encouragement was mixed with a joke and Mahiru lightly flicked Kuro’s forehead. Then he rubbed his finger over the spot he flicked. Kuro chuckled and said, “You’ll be a strict mom. Maybe the person you marry will be more laidback. They can teach that kid the wonders of cake after midnight.”

“That’s bad, Kuro.” He said and Kuro laughed. He found himself laughing along with him. Mahiru had to admit, “I never thought much about romance and dating. It’s simpler to let these things happen naturally. I have to focus on school too.”

Despite his lazy nature, he was kind and dependable. He would like to be with someone like Kuro. When the thought crossed his mind, Mahiru blushed. He laid back in the bed and pulled the covers to his lips. “It’s late so we should go to sleep. Are you sure you’re comfortable down there? I can share.”

“I already said it’s alright. Just lend me your shoulder when I fall asleep on the train tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Mahiru gave him a smile and whispered. “Goodnight, Kuro. Thank you for everything.”

#servamp #kuromahi #sloth pair #servamp kuro #mahiru shirota #fanfiction

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iwriteficsandmore · 5 years

Text

A Night to Say ‘Yes’

Alright! Here’s a little something. It’s an excerpt of my HawksxOC fic I’m working on outlining still. It’s a scene that I might add into it (changed here and there, of course). Felt the urge to write and thought ‘why not post it?’. I’m indecisive about whether to add it to the Birds of a Feather Collection or just make it a stand alone oneshot (leaning towards the latter) but I’ll figure it out. In the meantime, enjoy the read and let me know if ya’ll like it ♥

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Miryoku shuddered, the thundering bass of EDM already thrumming in her ears despite her still being outside of the venue. She tucked her arms around herself to keep herself warm. Her thin coat had been a terrible choice. It did nothing to protect her against the chill that engulfed Tokyo this late at night. Or morning, she supposed. A deep grimace set on Miryoku’s lips at the reminder of how ridiculously late it was and why exactly she was there.

Being the designated driver sucked. Very much so when she wasn’t even in the damn club partying.

Wanting to get it over with, Miryoku made her way to the back alley, squeezing through the bunch of people cued up to enter. Some glared daggers at her, others shouted at her to get in line, she minded neither and made a beeline for the bouncer instead. The hulk of a man was about to tell her off when he realized who she was and a grin spread across his face.

“Miryoku-chan!”

“Hey, Touma.” She shared a thin smile with him, her breath coming out as a puff of white.

Touma raised a curious eyebrow. “You don’t look like your dressed for a good time.”

“I’m here to pick someone up, actually.”

A gruff chuckle burst from him. “Ah, yes, Usagiyama-san. No wonder she came alone.”

“Didn’t feel like clubbing tonight.”

He nodded before reaching back and opening the door into the club. Now the music really tore at her ears. Geez, I’m not awake enough for this. Resigned, she thanked Touma before descending the stairs into the larger area of the club. A handful of chandeliers hung from the ceiling and reflected the prismatical stage lights that strobed to the music playing on every speaker perched on the walls across the club. As she descended the spiral staircase that led down into the bar, she could see how packed the dance floor was. Neon lights strobed on the floor from each step taken on it, adding to the energetic vibe she loved to have when she came. Not today though. Today she just wanted to find Rumi, get her home, and get herself back home to sleep.

Doing that, though, would be trying to find the needle in a bunch of neon haystack. Good thing, Miryoku had some kind of clue of where she was.

Once off the stairs, she bypassed the way to the dance floor and headed straight for the bar. Bodies smashed against her, adding to her ire, but she shoved them aside little by little and eventually made it. A thick, soundproof curtain that stretched from the ceiling all the way to the floor separated the bar from dance floor. The added soundproofing from its walls made the area relatively calmer and quieter when compared to the rest of the club but the muffled bass could still be heard beyond. Miryoku liked this part of the club. It was a good place to unwind once she got tired of dancing and needed a drink to mellow down. And this was exactly where she found Rumi on the brink of passing out with a drink in hand.

“Snow bunny!” The Rabbit Hero was quick to spot her despite her inebriated state and cried out at the top of her lungs as she got closer. “What are ya doing here?”

Miryoku shushed her, sprinting the rest of the way to her to catch her before she fell from trying to stand up. A feat in itself considering her physique when compared to Miryoku’s tiny frame. Somehow putting her back on the barstool she’d been using, Miryoku blew exhausted lip bubbles.

“What do you mean—You called me, Ru.”

“D-Did I?”

“Yes,” she drawled for emphasis. “And I’m taking you home now, you’re drunk.”

“Oh, this ain’t nothing!” She squinted at her half-full glass for a moment before lifting her gaze. Miryoku was about to chide her, determined to somehow drag her out of the club, when Rumi’s eyes widened, glinting with a mischievous shine before she raised her glass at someone behind her. “Lookit, the whole gang’s here!”

Gang?

“Well, this is certainly unexpected.”

Great. Just...fantastic.

Her face scrunched at the familiar voice but sighed through her nose before turning to catch sight of amber eyes. They swept her from head to toes before that devilish grin upturned Hawks’ lips.

“Hello, Ryoku-san—”

“It’s Miryoku,” she corrected, begrudgingly.

“Fancy meeting you here.” His grin grew and his crimson feathers puffed out jestfully. “Didn’t know you liked clubbing.”

“Not tonight I don’t.” She turned to Rumi, dogged on getting her home before this could escalate into anything she would later regret. “C’mon, Ru, we’re leaving.”

“But I want another!” Rumi cried out and stood to make her point clear but quickly started staggering on her feet. Before Miryoku could do anything, Hawks sprinted forward catching Rumi before she could fall with her full weight against Miryoku.

“Whoa there, jackrabbit. Don’t wanna squish Ryoku-san now, do you?”

Her crimson eyes narrowed on Hawks before she pointed at him, glass of liquor still in hand splashing everywhere with the gesture.

“You stay away from Snow Bunny, damn hawk.”

Hawks chortled and Miryoku couldn’t help the rush of blood that came to her face when he repeated that nickname under his breath.

“Where’s that coming from?” he laughed.

“I’m warning ya.”

“Alright, Rumi!” Both jerked to attention from raising her voice. Ignoring the heat flushing her cheeks, Miryoku took Rumi’s wrist intent on taking her away. “We are leaving. Now.”

“Hold your horses.” Miryoku got pulled back when neither of them moved and glared back at Hawks who’d purposefully stopped Rumi from going anywhere. He flashed her a crooked smile, different from his usual wolfish one. “Usagi called me here to take her home.”

Her brow knitted down instantly. “She called me to come and take her home.”

Out of the blue, Rumi threw her arms up triumphantly, sloshing around what was left of her drink in the air before plopping her arms around both Miryoku and Hawks and locking their necks.

“My best drink buddies!”

Unbelievable.

Miryoku let out an exasperated groan while Hawks laughed his heart out. Just when she was about to chastise the two of them for that—especially him when Rumi was this far gone—she stopped in her tracks when a soft touch brushed against her arm. Behind her, a couple crimson feathers caught her attention before hovering up to point at the glass. Miryoku eyed Hawks briefly and met his amber eyes for a second. He gave the glass in Rumi’s hand a pointed look and offered her a knowing smile before turning broad as he went back to chatting with Rumi. Catching his drift, Miryoku busied herself taking Rumi’s drink and placing it on the bar’s countertop while Hawks distracted her with idle chatter. She gathered the few of Rumi’s belongings and chased after them as Hawks coaxed her out of the club.

Once on the sidewalk, Miryoku pointed at her car from behind Rumi’s back. Without stopping their chatter, he gave her a slight nod before stumbling around with Rumi over to it. Miryoku wasted no time opening the backseat door where he easily sat her down with the help of his feathers.

“Alright, Ru,” Miryoku said softly, taking in Rumi’s mellowed down and suddenly groggy expression. “We’ll be home soon.”

“Are you staying the night?”

“No, Ru, I’m not.”

Tears sprouted from her crimson eyes and she pouted. “But—aren’t we going out?”

“Ho?” Hawks immediately perked up at that, eyebrow quirking up at the same time his wings curled outward.

Heat rushed up her neck but she quieted down her embarrassment before giving Rumi a tender smile. Miryoku reached out and patted her head right between her ears.

“No, Rumi. Not anymore.”

Rumi locked eyes with Miryoku for a bit, sniffling for a moment before nodding. Out of the blue, she scooted in before lying down on her backseat with her legs partially still out of the car. Her shoulders slumped as she sighed and pushed her legs inside and closed the door. A quick lock to reassure herself Rumi wouldn’t suddenly run out of her car gave her enough time to turn up to Hawks as he leaned on the car’s side.

“Thanks for the help.”

“Don’t mention it.” He gave her backseat window a rap with his knuckles. “I’m guessing you’re gonna need help bringing her into her house with her knocked out like that.”

Her mouth fell open intent on sending him on his way home, assuring him she’d be fine with that much, until a kick from inside her car rocked it. Closing her mouth almost immediately, she nonchalantly nodded.

“Meet you at her place?”

Hawks didn’t answer. Instead he simple held her gaze for a moment before smiling. Not the flirtatious smile or easy-going one you were use to seeing from him out in public. This one seemed softer, gentler even.

“Mind if I hitch a ride with you?”

Miryoku couldn’t help the way her heart stirred at the way he said that. Shaking her head, she smiled before unlocking her car once more, her smile turning to a small grin. “You’re gonna have to lose some feathers though. My car’s not really made for fancy wings like yours.”

He scoffed and shook his head but as he entered the car, almost the entirety of his feathers dissolved from his wings, turning them more compact on his back as he took the passenger's seat, and settled on the back seat giving Rumi a more comfortable bed. Miryoku chuckled as she looked over her seat, eyeing him one last time before starting their way to the Rabbit Hero’s home.

Unease encroached over Miryoku, the blush on her cheeks never leaving as she took in the situation at hand. She and Hawks met during an interview earlier that year. What really brought them into each other’s radar had been the incident that occurred at the gala for the Hero Billboards. Coincidentally or not, they had stumbled unto each other just like tonight far more times than she dared consider. At first she hadn’t been fond of the encounters. He was just one of many heroes that she worked alongside as a journalist. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Miryoku. Maybe one day you’ll believe it. True to form, the mere thought of what had starting bubbling over the past months got her heart racing.

“So.” His sudden interjection brought her back from her scattered head and drew a sidelong glance from her between the times that she watched the road. “You and Rumi were a thing?”

Damnit, Ru. Why’d you go and open your mouth about that?

“Back in the day.”

“How long exactly is back in the day?”

“Why do you ask?” she asked.

A small, crooked small came to his lips as he leaned his elbow against the car door and his face against his hand to properly face her as she drove. “Curiosity mostly.”

“And the bit that isn’t from curiosity?”

“Self-interest.”

Her grip tightened on the steering wheel, fearing she’d swerve if she didn’t concentrate on the road after that direct hit. Easy there, she reminded herself, easy.

“The summer before I entered university if I’m recalling right.” Miryoku shrugged her shoulders to dispel some of her jitters. “We dated for a couple months before I broke it off. Frankly, we’re much better friends than we were girlfriends.”

Hawks gave the backseat a brief glance before cracking a grin. “Doesn’t seem like she got fully over it?”

“Ru took it hard when I told her I wanted to break things off.”

“Don’t blame her.”

“C-Can we stop talking about this, please?”

“Why?” he asked, a teasing smile spreading across his handsome face. “Uncomfortable?”

“Very much so, yeah,” she replied with a chuckle.

“That’s alright. Looks like we’re here anyhow.”

Just as he said this, Miryoku rounded the block and spotted Rumi’s condo. She let out a hefty sigh as she parked and rummaged through her wallet for a spare key. “Let’s get her inside.”

Hawks leaned over with a furrowed brow. “You have a key?”

“Emergencies.”

“Drunken ones?”

“Yep.”

With Hawks’ help, the whole endeavor of getting Rumi inside her condo was made a thousand times easier. Regrettably, said Rabbit Hero only made it halfway across her living room before deciding that the sofa would be as good a place to pass out as any. Miryoku shook her head at Rumi’s questionable carelessness but smiled all the same, running off to the spare closet to grab a spare blanket to cover her with. She came back to Hawks snickering and her brow scrunched up at the sight, phone out and camera audibly shuttering as one of his feathers lightly prodded Rumi’s face.

Manchild.

“Oh, come on.”

Hawks chased after his phone the moment Miryoku snatched it from his hands. Deftly, she erased the photos he’d taken before locking it and pocketing it in her jeans’ back pocket. She glowered at him, unamused at his antics, and effectively stopped him in his tracks. He feigned innocence with a light whistle before Miryoku shook her head at him.

“Ryoku-san,” he whined exaggeratedly, hovering a little off the floor as she went about covering Rumi with the blanket. “Can I have my phone back, plase?”

“You’ll get it once we’re out of here.”

He pouted and landed on the floor with an audible thud. Chuckling, Miryoku patted his arm, hushed him with a finger to her lips and led him outside of the condo’s gate. Once at her car, she let out a long yawn, tears brimming in her eyes. Hawks turned over to the sky and his wings shuddered behind him as they tucked closer to him.

“The sun’s gonna rise soon.”

“Damn, and I’ve got work early tomorrow to boot.”

He chuckled, leaning over to open the driver’s seat and giving it a pointed nod. “Here, let’s get you home.”

“What,” she said with an amused chuckle. “Are you going to drive?”

“Hardly.” Miryoku felt the soft touch of feathers behind her as his wing nudged her closer to the door. “But I’d like to see that you get home safe and sound for one.”

Not up for arguing with how early it was, Miryoku nodded lazily before getting inside. His feathers swarmed her back seat again as he took the passenger’s and allowed her to head to her house. It was closeby thankfully and once she parked beside the small, cozy-looking house she breathed a sigh of relief. Exiting her car, she couldn’t help but stare as Hawks did the same and gawk at the way his feathers so painlessly returned to form his massive wings. The yellow hue of the porch light she left on tinted them in an off hue of orange red, though soon, she supposed the sunlight would show their true crimson color.

What a beautiful color too.

His sudden facing her with those amber eyes and that affable smile got her to turn away quickly, heat rising again all the way up to her ears. Veering off to the side, she headed straight to the few steps that led up to her front door with Hawks trailing behind her at a safe distance. Once on the top of the steps she turned sideways to meet him as he still stood at the bottom of the stairs.

“Thank you for helping me with Rumi, Hawks.”

Hawks shrugged his shoulders, a half grin lazily plastered on his face. “Tag team for the win, am I right?”

A bubbly chuckle came from her before a smile took its place. “And thank you for accompanying me home as well, though you really didn’t have to.”

“Of course, Ryoku-san.”

Just as she searched for her house key and was to turn towards the door, Hawks stepped forward and called out, “Miryoku-san, you think I could ask you something?”

“Now?” She wasn’t so taken aback by the sudden question as much as by the timing.

“It’s quick I promise.”

“Um, sure, I guess.”

This time he didn’t so much as move for a solid second. It struck Miryoku as odd, this stillness, but a large part of her preferred it better to his sudden climb up the stairs to stand at the top of them and a few feet away from her. All at once, Miryoku felt her heart fluttering at the sudden closeness, not so much from the usual apprehension of having another person bursting her personal space but simply from him being so close to her in particular.

“W-What is it?”

“Would you consider going on a date with me?”

Oh.

“H-Hawks, I’ve—” She chuckled, her voice cracking slightly from the previous shock. “I’ve told you before that I don’t really—”

“Date heroes?” He nodded as his gaze fell to stare derisively at something she couldn’t make out. The disconcert was short lived, though, and he quickly lifted his face to give her a bitter smile. Her heart tore at the sight of it. “Yeah, I thought that’d still be the case. Sorry for asking.”

Hawks turned on his heel, jumping the three steps down the porch and giving himself space as his wings unfurled to ready himself to take flight. All at once, Miryoku felt her own heart ache at the sight of his broad back.

He had asked her the same question many times before, all rather snide or jestful in some manner, and Miryoku had dismissed him just the same as she had now. And Hawks would always dismiss the rejection with a smile, obviously adamant to not let that bring him down. Never before had that laid-back attitude or easygoing smile disappeared like they did just now. Seeing them go away tightened her chest and made it hard to breathe. And it was just that much worse to know that she caused it.

Before, she would’ve said no and it wouldn’t have been like this. Before, she would’ve meant her rejection and not be affected by his reaction. Now, after so many things that had transpired between them, she couldn’t keep her heart aching from how much it pained her to say words she mostly didn’t mean.

Miryoku didn’t date heroes for a reason. She didn’t date at all right now for a very good reason. The genuity with which Hawks asked her though, spurred something from inside her. It urged her to be truthful.

You can’t be afraid of something that hasn’t happened yet—something that can only ever happen again if you let it.

It urged her to act.

“Hawks, wait—ah!”

The rush with which she ran down the steps, few as they might’ve been, made her lose her balance and stumble down them. Her shrieked muffled against warm cotton instead of cold, hard asphalt as arms took ahold of her arms to help steady her. Getting her footing back, Miryoku raised her face to meet amber eyes wide as could with surprise.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m—yeah.” Taking a few steps back, she cleared her throat, her hands fiddling with the strands of her hair that fell forward and brushing them behind her ear only to have them fall back again. “It’s just...that...your—your phone!”

Hawks’ lips fell open for a split moment before the ghost of a smile upturned the edges. She fumbled with the phone as she took it from her back pocket and presented it to him. Without much preamble, Hawks went to take it but when Miryoku refused to let go of it, he raised his gaze to her.

“Ryoku-san?”

C’mon, Miryoku. Just...give it try.

“I know...that I said before that I don’t go out with heroes. A-And I still stand by that,” her grip tightened on the smartphone as she mustered the courage to say what was on her mind. “But I don’t see anything wrong with just accompanying you somewhere to have a good time. So I wouldn’t necessarily be saying yes to a date with you but yes to just hanging out, you know. If that turns into a date or not, well, that’d be beyond me to know, right? So, if you’re okay with that being the case, then I don’t see why we couldn’t...”

The warmth of his hand suddenly folded over her own but didn’t so much as move it. He simply held it tenderly in his as his wings came to surround them both. Daring to lift her gaze, she met his and almost felt her heart stop completely at the adoring gaze he set on her. The most sincere smile came to him as he kept their eyes locked.

“Hanging out with you sounds like a splendid time.” With her grip on his phone loosened, he easily brought it out from under her grip and held it up to tap at his chin. “I’ll be texting you to iron out the details then.”

“S-Sure.”

Hawks gave a nod behind her to her house. “You better go get some rest. I’m sure you don’t want to be totally sleep deprived at work today.”

Heeding his advice, she carefully climbed the stairs to her front door but before going through the door turned back to glance over her shoulder. Hawks hadn’t left yet, waiting for her to enter with his hands in his pockets and a content expression on his face. The sight of it brought a genuine smile to her and a swell to her chest that she couldn’t describe.

“Goodnight, Hawks.”

His wings spread behind him as he took a light bow and not tearing his eyes from her for one instant. “Goodnight, Miryoku.”

Miryoku entered and closed the door behind her. Her legs quaking beneath her gave way almost instantly and she slid against her front door to break her fall. The whistling of air outside was indication enough of Hawks leaving, but in spite of his absence, the giddiness that filled her to the brink of bursting remained.

The boisterous barks of her dog, Junji, echoed through her small home at her arrival. The Akita skidded from the hall that led to the main bedroom and bounded straight to her, leaping onto her and licking at her face with reckless abandon. Bubbling laughter escaped her lips as she pushed the Akita away and vigorously petted at his head to calm him down. The dog wasn’t having any of it though, and frankly, she didn’t feel like she could sleep either with how elated she was.

It’s not a date, she reminded herself, don’t be too happy.

Miryoku couldn’t help herself though, burying her face against the Akita’s fur as she hugged him tightly and squealing into him as he barked out enthused at her happiness. Date or not, she had taken that first step. She allowed herself to start over. That more than anything set her heart fluttering. And it being Hawks made it all that much better.

She squealed against her dog’s fur again at the mere thought of him. Junji simply barked again and let his tongue stick out through his goofy grin.

#bnha hawks #bnha oc #hawks x oc #hawks fic #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #mha hawks #oc #writing #fanfiction #birds of a feather collection #oneshot #bnha oneshot #bnha fic

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asknarashikari · 3 years

Note

*looking at Saber previews again with a grim look* A fluffy Touma minific for my sanity please

This got way too long lmao. Does it even count as fluff?

Touma knew he was dreaming. He didn’t know how, but he knew he was.

He found himself in an unfamiliar house, sitting at the dining table with a cup of tea in hand. Across from him was Rintaro, reading the newspaper, his brows knitted together in concentration. Beside him, Kento was polishing his sword, and Mei was on his other side, knitting what appeared to be a scarf.

It was so startlingly domestic, it almost made Touma uneasy, had it not been for the feeling of... rightness that filled him.

“Touma? Is there something wrong?” Kento asked him, suddenly. “Your tea is going cold...”

“Oh, uh...” Touma was startled by Kento’s appearance. He looked... older. There were laugh lines around his eyes, a touch of grey at his temples. Despite this, Kento still looked as dreamy as the day he flew into the bookstore and back into his life on his magic carpet, and Touma tried to fight the blush on his cheeks.

“Ah, it’s today, isn’t it?” Rintaro put his newspaper down, and it was only then that Touma noticed the pair of glasses perched on his nose. It only made him look more distinguished, and combined with the more relaxed hairstyle he currently donned, Touma felt ridiculously attracted to him.

“...What’s today?” he asked, confused. “Why do you two look... older?”

Mei sweetly laughed beside him, and she turned to face him. Like the other two, she seemed to have aged a few years overnight, but doing so gracefully. Aside from the slightest wrinkles around her eyes, and her hair being pulled cut into a short, mature bob, she didn’t look any different from the Mei he knew, as beautiful as the day they met right out of university.

“You told us about this,” Mei said. “You think you’re dreaming, don’t you?” she asked him.

“I feel like I am,” Touma confessed. “How else could this be possible...?”

“You know how it’s like with us Riders,” Kento said, putting aside his sword. “Stranger things have happened. Or, will happen, in your case.”

“‘My case’...?” Touma questioned. “What’s going on here...?”

“Tou-chan, Tou-chan!”

“I...se...?” Touma had expected a toddling dragon to come and bowl him over to the floor. He did not expect to see a towering teenager in a high school uniform to rush at him with a bunch of papers in hand.

“Tou-chan, did you look over my composition already?I have to leave in a bit, I’m going to be so late!!!”

“Tou-chan and Mama looked it over already, Ise,” Mei said, handing him a bunch of stapled papers. “We pencilled some things you need to correct but it’s all good.”

“Thanks Mama! I’m going to go now!” Ise nearly flew out of the front door with a piece of toast in his mouth, stuffing the papers haphazardly into his bag.

“T... That was...” Touma stammered, staring after the young man in shock.

“Yes, that is our son, Ise. He’s in high school now.” Rintaro said with a smile. “He’s become quite the man, hasn’t he?”

Touma swallowed. “So... is this... is this really....?” He felt tears in his eyes.

“Yes, Touma,” Kento replied, smiling at him. “Turns out, I was wrong about the doom and gloom after all.”

Touma let out a choked laugh. “I told you so,” he told off through the lump around his throat.

He reached for his eyes to wipe at his tears, only to find himself staring at the bands of silver and gold decorating them. He let out an almost hysterical giggle, knowing for sure what this was now, because he was certain his brain wasn’t mad enough to make this up.

All of a sudden, the room started to turn to white at the corners, like it was dissolving into mist. “What...?”

“Shh, don’t worry,” Mei reassured, “You’re just about to wake up. But rest assured, this is no dream, Touma.”

“We’ll see you real soon, dear,” Rintaro told him, unworried. “It’ll be sooner than you think...”

Then Touma’s vision went white, and he woke up.

--------

Touma’s eyes snapped open and he sat straight up in bed, panting. The sun was only barely starting to rise outside, but he barely noticed it with the thoughts whirling in his head.

Why was I shown... whatever that was? He looked at his lap, where the old story book he, Kento and Luna had read when they were kids was opened to a blank page. Luna... did you show that to me...?

Kento groaned awake, having been jolted by Touma’s sudden movement. Mei and Rintaro, who were on his other side, were still fast asleep. “Touma?” he yawned sleepily. “What are you doing up so early...?”

He laughed a little. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you...”

“Stranger things have happened,” Kento shrugged, noncommittally.

Touma couldn’t help the soft smile on his lips when he heard Kento’s reply. “That they have.”

#kamen rider saber #kamiyama touma #fukamiya kento #shindo rintaro #sudo mei #ise (oc)#ask #askrikkaiandhyotei

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realoni-blog · 5 years

Note

🚪( from takeshi! ) :^)

@plvsovltre / accepting / meme . ⤷ 15. covered in blood. (theirs)

all i want is nothing more to hear you knocking at my door

there was nowhere else he could go , nowhere else to think of where he could hide . the pro heroes found him , and were so close to taking him down and takeshi had no way of knowing … not yet . eyes hazy , hands clamped tight over a wound settled as a deep gash against his abdomen . please be home . i need to open the door . five eyes settled wearily on the door , the sixth , expertly hidden on a mock version of him , ( a dream or a nightmare , it’s anyone’s guess ) still fighting against the heroes several blocks over . pain wracks , shudders through touma’s core , and he’s forced to his knees , one fist coming up to weakly pound against the door .

‘cause if i could see your face once more i could die as a happy man , i’m sure .

death lingered , just on the outskirts of his vision , blood bubbling up and he’s doubled over , spitting life on the doormat . “ ta … takeshi , ” voice falters when he tries to call , pain preventing anything louder . expression lifts , smile barely gripping the corners of his lips , as soon as the door opens . eyes close , sixth eye returning , as consciousness fades . a dull thump of heartbeat keeps him sane ; subconscious now taking in the rapid heartbeat of another — loud words filling his ears but never reaching . unfocused eyes open to peer up at his savior , smile still small , soft .

when you said your last goodbye , i died a little bit inside .

i’m sorry , touma wanted to say , but nothing worked . hands slumped , merely cradled by stronger arms carrying him inside and placed on a hastily thrown out futon . for the first time in years , he knew the both of them were crying . pain seared through every vein of his body , centralizing on the wound on his stomach , and he knew takeshi’s quirk wasn’t suited for things like this .

i lay in tears in bed all night alone without you by my side .

when takeshi disappears from the bedroom , eyes close once again , tears streaking clean lines down a bloody face . but he returns again , once again shouting words that refuse to clear . all touma knows is he is frantic , and he couldn’t do a thing about it . eyes streak blue , then purple , quirk activating to show a dream : a touma who was perfectly fine , sitting with a blank smile on his face . “ we’ll be okay , ” it says , “ once i’m all fixed up , we’ll be fine . ” but that’s all he has the energy for . the dream touma fades from existence , much like his consciousness once again .

but if you loved me , why’d you leave me ?

eyes didn’t open again for several days as body recuperated . head fell to the side , catching sight of takeshi not too far away . hand shifted , wincing slightly , to pat the bandages meticulously wrapped around his middle . “ takeshi , ” voice is hoarse from sleeping so long , but it’s enough to pull the other from his reverie and rush over . sluggish arms prompt him downward , daring to pull him into a hug . “ thank you , ” he whispers , pressing a kiss to takeshi’s temple .

take my body / take my body all i want is / all i need is to find somebody / i’ll find somebody

he is healing . they heal together ; touma hasn’t left in days .. weeks , even though he was clearly able to take care of himself after so long . he keeps close to the chairman , hand kept in his whenever possible , always … always leaning . fear takes hold , worrying that if takeshi were to be out of his sight , he might never come back . or maybe … maybe this was heaven and touma didn’t want to wake up to a life of being alone again . but this wasn’t a dream , and he didn’t die . this was them now , and he didn’t want to lose it .

you took my soul , wiped it clean our love was made for movie screens .

the pro heroes are still searching for the villain nightmare , but he’s nowhere to be found , and he hasn’t surfaced in several months . there’s rumors that he died of his wounds weeks ago , but without a body , they’re not sure . touma hasn’t left takeshi’s side all this time , only letting go when the chairman has to go to work . for now , they’re inseparable .

#plvsovltre #long post cw //#i'm not crying . these are just . rainclouds in my eyes #♚ * » reply .#♚ * » oo1 . every day i add a new stone to the wall that protects this old heart .#uuuuuuh ask to tag ?

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ruby-grapefruit · 5 years

Text

Blue or Green? | Part Three

Summary: Sakura joined ANBU to get away. With her partner at her back she felt stronger than ever, ready to take on anything. If only she wasn’t slightly obsessed with him and knew who he really was.

Rating: Explicit

AO3 & FF.Net

Chapter Navigator:

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The smell of formaldehyde stung her eyes and irritated her nose. Sakura stared down at the dead woman, her body naked and covered in knife wounds. Examining a particularly deep cut that spread across the woman’s abdomen, Sakura gritted her teeth.

“What is it?” Reo asked taking a step forward to stand beside her as she stared down at the body, her arms crossed in concentration.

“Well at first glance this woman died of blood loss, given the sheer number of cuts all over her body. Same with all the others.” Sakura said, gesturing to the five other dead bodies that lay on metal tables in the bright fluorescently lit room. “But…”

“But what?” Reo pressed glancing down himself at the woman they stood in front of.

“I don’t think they died of blood loss.” Sakura continued, using her gloved hand to open up the woman’s mouth to show Reo, “See how inflamed the tissue is, it’s all red, like she had an allergic reaction. The others all have the same thing as well.”

Sakura closed the woman’s mouth and gestured to her throat where she had 8 vertical cuts from chin to collar bone. “And see these cuts here?”

At Reo’s nod she continued, “I think they are self-inflicted.”

She reached down and grabbed the woman’s hand and gestured for Reo to come closer, “It’s hard to tell with all the blood, but under her nails there’s some of her own skin.”

“So, you’re suggesting she scratched herself hard enough to make those cuts?”

“Exactly, and the others did as well.”

“Why would anyone do that?” He asked look looking around at the other dead bodies in the room.

“I have a couple of theories, but nothing concrete. I’d help if we could catch the next victim before they died, or right after. I’ll be able to know more with fresh tissue.”

She fingered the gloves pulling them off her hands and into the waste-bin as she turned to exit the room, Reo following closely behind.

“All of the attacks so far have been 2 days apart. If that keeps up, you should be getting your wish soon.”

Sakura laughed as they strode down the hall and back up the stairs to the main foyer of the local hospital, “You make me sound so cynical! I’ll do my best to save them too, you know.”

“I know,” he grinned and winked at her, “You’re the best, aren’t you?”

“Oh no!” She laughed, “I wouldn’t want to take that title away from Lady Tsunade! Can you imagine what she would do to me?"

He smiled sheepishly, “Oh yes, I’ve heard lots of stories about her rage. Some even about when she’s been angry with you”

“Ahhh…” Sakura blushed lightly, “Yeah, she can be really scary.”

Sakura fell silent after that, and Reo did the same with a hint of a smile on his face as he led her out the building.

They’d been in Keishi for three days now and during that time she’d really hit it off with Reo. He was nice, genuine and he didn’t treat her like a massive celebrity, although Sara and Touma had toned that down since the mission started. Sakura was pleased to find that her teammates were actually extremely friendly people that she could see herself becoming good friends with. It was a plus that the mission was relatively fast paced, with new clues popping up all the time, which helped keep her thoughts off a certain someone.

She also admitted it was nice to have a relatively relaxing mission, compared to her most recent ones with ANBU. This time she was aiming to save lives instead of taking them and it soothed a part of Sakura’s turbulent soul.

She followed absent-mindedly beside Reo as they made their way back to their inn, to confer with Sara and Touma about what she had discovered from examining the bodies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sakura sat at the bar, beside Sara, at one of Keishi’s many questionable establishments, though this one seemed rather well cleaned and beautifully decorated. Even if her drink was a bit watered down, Sakura admitted that Sara hadn’t chosen that bad of a place.

“Why did you want to come here again?” Sakura mumbled through her straw.

Sara gave her a side glance, “This is one of the best parts of going on out-of-town missions.” She said, as she brought her drink up to her lips and took a nice long sip. “You get a whole new set of men to play with.” She laughed, looking back at Sakura with a twinkle in her eye.

Sakura chuckled heartedly, what it must be like to be free like this. It sounded like something Ino would say.

“In the village you might see them again, but here it’s like a free pass.” Sara continued, “As you can tell I’m single and taking full advantage of it. The life of a shinobi shouldn’t be spent holding back. I want to experience all there is to experience, because we both know death could come knocking any day.”

Sakura found herself nodding along, she knew more than most how dangerous their lives were. For a split second she considered having a bit of fun herself, but her wounds were still too fresh. Not yet, she wasn’t ready to move on from him… Maybe not ever.

Instead she turned on her seat and decided to help Sara out a bit, that would still be fun. Like going shopping, she snickered internally.

It was then that she spotted a man in the back corner. His back was turned to hers, but his presence demanded attention. Shoulder length hair, an almost white silver, wavy, falling nicely just above his broad shoulders. She could see the muscle definition beneath his shirt marking him as a shinobi.

She nudged Sara.

Following her gaze and a smile appeared on Sara’s face, “Ohh, he looks like he’s probably hot.” she said, assessing the same silver-haired man.

“Why’d you need me to come if you were planning on going home with a guy anyways.” Sakura asked still sipping on her straw, casually leaning against the bar.

“I don’t like going alone to bars in cities I don’t know. Touma hates that I do this, he thinks its demeaning.” Sara groaned, “In the past I’ve taken Reo with me, but he usually gets side-tracked by a girl, which is no fun for me. You seemed like you wouldn’t mind and might even help me.” Sara smiled knowingly.

“Good guess.” Sakura laughed, “and don’t worry I got your back.”

When they looked back, the man had turned around and was staring straight at them. Not surprising since Sara was beautiful, and Sakura had pink hair, which always seemed to grab people’s attentions.

He is handsome, Sakura thought, good for Sara.

His skin was pale and mostly unflawed, except for the small scar in the shape of a crescent moon on his chin. Yet the scar was not his defining feature, that title was given to his piercing yellow eyes that sent shivers down her spine.

The man smiled, his white teeth gleaming in the dim bar as he started to make his way across the room towards them.

“Looks like you caught his eye,” Sakura teased, “He’s making his way over.”

“Yeah,” Sara replied, looking over at Sakura she winked, “He’s really hot too. I’m going to feel him out, but I think he might be the lucky winner tonight.”

“Guess I can get going?” Sakura hedged unsure of what more Sara wanted her to do.

“Can you stay a bit longer, I like a second opinion. You know, to make sure he’s not a dangerous missing-nin or anything. If you sense something wrong just say, ‘I wish they served food here.’”

“Okay got it.” Sakura smiled.

It was nice to know that Sara was being careful, and that she knew it was dangerous to attract the attention of an unknown male shinobi outside the village. There were no guarantees he wasn’t extremely dangerous.

As the man reached them Sara turned to face him fully. “I saw you girls staring at me, and I had to know why.” His voice was smooth, a nice baritone, it ran over her body and sent more shivers down her spine.

“Your eyes caught my attention,” Sara murmured, “They’re breathtaking.”

The man grinned again and leaned forwards to whisper in Sara’s ear, “My best feature. Can I get you ladies a drink?”

Sakura shock her head and showed the man she was still finishing her own, before turning to the side to let Sara get all the attention. Sara on the other hand nodded eagerly and gestured for him to take the empty seat next to her. He did.

Sakura kept half an ear on their conversation for the next half hour. He seemed okay, a little intense if Sakura was honest but she wasn’t the one going home with him tonight. There were no warning bells ringing in her head and so she nursed her drink while she waited for Sara to make the final decision to take him home.

She peaked up as Sara spoke, “Alright, I’ve got to freshen up in the washroom then we can go.”

Sara got up off the chair and gave Sakura a wink before making her way to the washroom. Sakura smiled shyly at the man and then resumed sipping on her almost empty drink. A shuffling to her side told her he’d taken Sara’s seat beside her.

“Your hair is so interesting.” He whispered hoarsely. His deep voice reverberating through her.

He was awfully close, and she shot him a wary look.

Fast as lightning he reached forwards and pulled some strands up to his face. Inhaling deeply, he smelled her hair, letting it slowly slide back out between his fingers.

Sakura smiled awkwardly and leaned away from the man.

That was really creepy, why did he just smell my hair?

The man only grinned widely at her.

Sara didn’t need her anymore, so Sakura got up off the chair and made to leave but the man grabbed her arm and a tingling sensation swept through her body. That’s when all the alarm bells went off. All. At. Once.

Run, a voice said, run NOW!

But before she could leap away from the man his huge body pushed her back against the bar. His one hand gripped both her wrist tightly, locking them in place in front of her chest, and try as she might she could not get out of his grip.

She went to summon her chakra enhanced strength and push him off her, but nothing happened. Her strength failed her. Her chakra failed her; it was not responding. She pulled and pulled trying to tear it out of her coils. Will it to do something. Anything.

Nothing happened. It just flowed on, coursing through her body, unaware of the danger she was in.

“Hello there,” The man whispered roughly into her ear. “I’ve been looking for you.” He inhaled deeply again, letting his nose run up the side of her face, lightly, tenderly.

Sakura pleaded for Sara to come back, to see this and go get help. If this man had been able to neutralize her then only Reo stood a chance.

“You’ve changed your appearance.” The man murmured, his lips just beside her ear. “I almost missed you.”

What was he talking about? Sakura wondered frantically.

“I-I- think you have the wrong girl,” she stammered.

Realizing he’d let her speak she was about to shout for Sara before he placed a hand roughly against her mouth.

“Speak again and I’ll slit your friends throat.” Somehow, she didn’t doubt that he’d be able to do it.

Sakura was scared for the first time in a long time. Her chakra had failed her, and she didn’t know what to do.

Her mind spun, trying to think of some way out of the situation without the use of her chakra. He was stronger than her without her enhanced strength and easily kept her in place as she struggled against his grip. Maybe she could get a leg up between his legs? Or if she could just get one of her hands free, she could hit a pressure point in his neck.

She’d been a shinobi before getting her superhuman strength. She could do this without her chakra. She was Sakura god-damned Haruno, she didn’t need chakra to save her. She still had her most powerful ability, her mind.

A plan finally in place, she prepared herself to act…And froze completely. Terror filled her as she beheld what he had taken out of his pocket.

A blue silk robe.

Her blue silk robe.

With his one hand still gripping both her wrists together he brought the fabric up to his nose and inhaled deeply. Smiling maniacally, he leaned down again and pressed his nose into her hair.

“Nope,” he laughed, low and brutal, “I’ve got the right girl.”

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

This time her mind was racing frantically. Disbelief was the prominent emotion. How had this happened? Jun must have figured out that his son’s death was not an accident. But for this man to actually be able to find her! There was no way. This was pure luck on his part. And on top of that, how had he been able to neutralize her chakra?

Distantly she felt a small pain in her stomach and realized that he’d injected her with something. The only part of her mind still able to process anything tried frantically to get her chakra to help burn away the sedative, but there was no response and she fell deeper into despair.

She was afraid and lost, yet she clung onto the small hope that at least he hadn’t recognized her and her village would be safe. Those thoughts soon came to a blinding halt as the man continued with an even greater smile on his face. His teeth, blindingly white, the only thing she could focus on as her vision blurred.

“Who would have guessed that Sakura Haruno moonlighted as a prostitute from Keishi.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reo ran down the dark street, Touma on his heals as they rushed to where they’d felt Sara’s chakra flair. He hoped that nothing was wrong, but he felt uneasy. There had been no other chakra flairs, from Sara or from Sakura who was with her. Maybe they’d found another victim. Yet Reo had a feeling that something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

As they came to a halt in front of the building, he noticed that the area was deserted. No one lingered in the streets, not even the homeless that you could usually find everywhere.

“Alright.” He told Touma, “I don’t know what’s inside but be prepared in case there’s a fight.”

“Yes, sir.”

Reo pushed open the door of the empty bar and his stomach dropped as a pit formed in his throat.

Sara lay across the floor, her neck slit open, a kunai clenched tightly in her hand. Her eyes were still open in disbelief, but she was unseeing, dead.

Behind him Touma sobbed as he beheld the scene.

Her shirt had been torn open revealing her lean stomach, now marred with a bloody message carved out of her skin.

“Beware Konoha, Lord Jun will come for you next.”

The words were dried, the blood already crusty and turning brown. Reo approached hesitantly, first he inspected the entire room, every inch, making sure there were no hidden traps. Then he summoned Chie, a coyote.

“Where is Sakura?” Reo demanded, “Find her!”

Chie began to search, nose pressed to the ground. When the coyote was finished, she came back, sat in front of Reo and whined sadly.

“What did she say?” Touma asked his voice rough from holding back tears.

“He took her,” Reo growled, “The same man who did this to Sara, took Sakura. Chie said she smelled a sedative, so Sakura’s probably still alive.”

Touma swore, and leaned down to close Sara’s eyes, “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know.” Reo closed his eyes and pressed his hand to his forehead in concentration before he began to speak his thoughts, “This is definitely unrelated to our current mission. Jun is one of the five major Crime Lords in the Elemental Nations. How Sakura got involved with him, I have no idea. What I do know is that we can’t go after her just the two of us. That said, the fastest way to get a message back to the village would be for us to go back. It’s only a couple of hours by run, but that would also mean abandoning the current mission.” Reo looked over at Touma who was still leaning down beside Sara his face grim. “What do you want to do?”

“We go back.” Touma stared, unblinking, at Sara’s slit throat, “We don’t abandon our teammates. I know Sara didn’t abandon Sakura. If she had time to send up a chakra flair, then she had time to run. But she didn’t, and we can’t either.”

They carefully placed Sara into a scroll, covering up the message with a shirt. While Touma went back to the inn to pack up everyone’s stuff Reo went to the village leader and told him of the situation, promising that Konoha would send another team who would likely be here by tomorrow afternoon. The man was not too happy but seemed to understand the urgency.

They ran as fast as they could knowing the longer they took the more likely the trail would run cold. It took them the rest of the night and they arrived outside the gate of Konoha as the sky began to loosen its grip on the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Naruto slowly trudged up the stairs, he had taken to waking up shortly before dawn and getting started on the mountain of paper work that Lady Tsunade had started piling onto his desk. It was all part of her ‘plan’, as she said, to teach him how to be Hokage. Naruto was 100% convinced she was just lazy and was adding her own paperwork to his. Though he would much rather be spending his time training or going on missions, he knew that that part of his life was over.

If he was honest, he was starting to enjoy this routine, in the morning he would work on the paperwork at his desk in the Hokage’s office. Tsunade would come in sometime around noon and they would go over various things together. By the afternoon he was usually free to go to the training field with Sasuke or Sai, if they were around.

He was in the office when two rugged shinobi came rushing in. They looked exhausted and haunted. He finished signing a paper and looked up from the desk.

The younger man strode across the room to stand in front of him. His face was tense, his eyes strained, “Is the Hokage in?” He asked, voice rough.

Naruto put down his pen and crossed his arms, “No it’s just me right now.”

The man looked back at his companion hesitantly. Annoyed, Naruto stood up and tried to sound as demanding as possible, “What happened?”

When the man hesitated again, Naruto groaned. “Panda, get the Hokage,” He said and sat back down in the chair running a hand through his thick hair.

Until he was sworn into office, it wasn’t all that surprising that the shinobi wanted to wait for the Hokage if this was something important.

Minutes later Tsunade strode into the office her face tired and haggard after being woken up early in the morning by the hidden ANBU he’d sent to get her.

“What is it?” She demanded coming to stand beside the desk her arms crossed, her face scrunched up in anger.

The shinobi and his companion bowed low, “Hokage. We’ve brought unfortunate news.”

Tsunade didn’t answer, instead she only raised an eyebrow and waited for them to continue. Naruto watched dumbfound at the authority she managed to convey in the simple action.

The older shinobi came forwards from the back and took out a large scroll from his pack. Gently he unrolled it and placed a palm in the middle of the paper.

“Release”

Out of the smoke a body appeared, a young woman. Her throat had been slit but other than that she remained unharmed. Or so he thought. Then the bottom of her shirt was lifted, and Naruto beheld what had been carved into the skin of her abdomen.

Tsunade frowned, “Explain.” When they hesitated, she shouted, her patience gone, “NOW!”

“Yes, Lady Tsunade.” The younger one bowed again, “We were on a mission in Keishi when two of my subordinates went to a bar for a drink. I was at our inn when I felt her chakra flair.” –he gestured to the dead woman– “when we got to the scene there was no-one there. We found her like this on the ground, and my other subordinate taken.”

He hesitated once more, discreetly glancing at Naruto before he continued quietly, “It was Sakura. The man took Sakura.”

Naruto’s hands clenched, fingernails digging into palms. He was furious, someone had kidnapped Sakura. His eyes flashed, flickering from blue to red as he tried to reign in his anger.

“Naruto” Tsunade spoke quietly. She looked at him, her eyes pleading, relax they seemed to say.

So, he turned and went to the back of the room to look out the window. He crossed his arms and grabbed at the skin of his upper arm, tightly, in hope of distraction as he stared out into the slowly brightening day. The sun shone bright just above the tree lines casting the village in a golden glow. He watched as Konoha slowly began to awaken, only half paying attention to the conversation behind him.

“We want to go after her.” The young man exclaimed, “We came back because we can’t do it alone.”

“It’s a good thing you came back.” Tsunade snapped. “If you’d gone after them, you’d likely be dead now too. At least you had some sense there. If someone was able to capture Sakura, you are way out of your league and be that as it may, even with help you are in no shape to go on a rescue mission. I’m sorry but I can’t allow it."

She paced the room, arms crossed tightly against her body, all signs of the earlier drowsiness gone. “I’ll send a replacement team for your mission in Keishi but for now you’re dismissed. Go home. Get some sleep. Mourn your teammate. I’ll take care of Sakura.” With a wave of her hand she dismissed them.

When they were alone once again Naruto turned back towards Tsunade and asked the question that had been burning inside him since the body had been revealed, “Why would Jun be after Sakura?”

He was frantic, worried for his best friend and confused, deeply confused. Running his hands through his hair he looked to Tsunade once more, eyes pleading for an explanation.

Tsunade only sighed and gestured for him to sit. “There’s something you need to know.”

Naruto was afraid he already knew, but he did as told.

Tsunade took a deep breath and slowly took a seat in the chair beside him. “You were both deceived, but it’s time you knew… When you were in ANBU we put you with Sakura."

Silence.

The shock of those words seared him to his soul. He didn’t know what to think let alone string a coherent sentence.

When he didn’t answer Tsunade continued her voice distant as he fell deeper into the realm of his subconscious, “Sakura was Falcon, Naruto.”

His mind was spinning, and pieces were beginning to click in his brain. It made so much sense, and yet he couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t believed it until Tsunade had said it.

Like an explosion he couldn’t contain it anymore.

His eyes flickered to red, the pupils elongating into a black slit, his nails sharped to lethal points and broke the skin in his palm as his hands clenched tightly into fists. Along his mouth, his canines grew, and deep scars appeared on his cheeks. He stood up off the chair and he roared.

His cry echoed across the village. Aguish and rage, his howl awoke the world.

Tsunade stood to the side, her eyes damp with tears as she witnessed Naruto fall to his knees his head bowed down and his hands fisted into his hair. She was missing something. Naruto had never acted like this, not for anyone. He didn’t cry, he shook from the rage that threatened to tear free of him.

Sakura was Falcon.

The thought was like a never-ending wheel constantly turning over in his head, only interrupted by that fact that she had been taken. He loved her for god’s sake, he was supposed to protect her, and now she’d been taken. Taken from him.

He tried to focus on his breathing.

One breath in, one breath out.

He couldn’t lose it now. Not when she could still be saved.

Moments later he looked up at Tsunade, his eyes now back to their brilliant bright blue.

“I love her,” he confessed.

Tsunade dropped to her knees beside him, “I know. I love her too.”

“No” Naruto protested, he looked Tsunade in the eyes. His gaze burning into her, filled with… filled with… a desperate anguish.

“I love her.” The words tore free from him, bursting with unchecked emotion.

Tsunade sobbed as she understood. Oh god, oh god. She was struck the realization that they would go to war over her.

Tsunade’s head whirled as she dissected the implications of this situation. If Jun knew that Konoha had been involved he was going to demand retribution. Sakura’s head in exchange for his son that they’d killed. Everyone knew that Sakura was like a daughter to her. But Tsunade couldn’t do it. Even if she knew Sakura would want to be sacrificed for the good of the village, Naruto would go to the ends of the earth for that girl. Jun might then call upon the might of all five crime lords and god knows how terrifying that war would be. The entirety of the underground crime world against one village.

But it wasn’t over yet, they could get Sakura back before she was delivered to Jun, before he knew about Konoha’s involvement.

Composing herself she got up and hauled Naruto up off the ground. Just in time too as Kakashi burst through the door not a second later, with Sasuke on his heels.

“What’s going on?!” He demanded, his voice tight with uncertainty as he glanced over at Naruto who now sat, staring at the wall, unseeing.

Kakashi glanced down a second later to take in the dead woman who lay on the ground, her stomach still exposing the bloody message.

When no one answered right away it was Sasuke who spoke, “What happened?”

Tsunade didn’t answer, instead she strode to her desk and sat down behind it. Reaching into her drawer she pulled out a bottle of sake and took a nice long drink. Slamming it down on the table, she finally spoke, “Who’s in the village right now that’s capable of a high-level rescue mission.” She looked to Kakashi knowing he’d have the answer.

“Sasuke, Sai, Shikamaru, Yamato, Kiba, Fumio, Daiki, Hiroki, and myself.”

Placing her hands down in front of her on the desk she took a moment to think. No one spoke while Tsunade made up a plan in her mind. Then Naruto mumbled something to quietly for anyone to hear.

“What?” Sasuke said turning to look at Naruto.

Naruto stood up off the chair his hands healed but still smeared with blood from when he’d pierced them earlier.

“I’m going.” He stated. Looking Tsunade dead in the eyes begging her to challenge him, “I’m going.”

Naruto was eerily calm. His brain had stopped running so rampantly, now only focused on the one thing that mattered, getting Sakura back.

It was Sasuke that broke the stare down between the Hokage and the future-Hokage. “Naruto you can’t go on a rescue mission, you’re about the become Hokage.”

Naruto turned to look at Sasuke and his eyes softened before he whispered almost inaudibly, “It’s Sakura."

Shocked, Sasuke and Kakashi’s faces flew to look at Tsunade who nodded. Her eyes now strained and sad. But before either of them began their bombardment of questions, she put up her hand gesturing for them to be quiet. “I’ll explain everything at the briefing in ten minutes, get your stuff, you’ll be leaving right after.”

Looking to an empty wall where an ANBU hid Tsunade added, “Cat, get Sai he’ll be going too.” She glanced over at Naruto whose clenched jaw was the only sign of his inner turmoil, “Do you have everything you need?”

He nodded, and she turned back to her drink.

Exactly seven minutes later all four men stood in front of her desk. The dead women had been moved to the hospital, and Naruto had shifted back to the window and now stared out into the distance, his brow furrowed and his fingers twitching ever so slightly. He was likely listening, but it wasn’t to him that Tsunade addressed.

“What I’m about to tell you is highly classified,” Tsunade began taking the time took look each one in the eye. Kakashi’s lone eye was emotionless, lazy looking, but Tsunade had known the man a long time and the small twitch she noticed indicated he was just as anxious as Naruto to get going. Sasuke’s face was hard, the small ridges that donned his forehead indicating his anger and frustration. Sai face was neutral, look as she might, she could see no outward signs of emotions.

“For the past two years Sakura has been a member of ANBU.” Assessing each of them she was surprised to find that it was Kakashi who took the news hardest. His posture changed from impatience, to confusion, then to one of anger. Though he didn’t say anything she could see the disapproval on his face that she had allowed Sakura to take up such a dangerous position, nonetheless she continued, “About three weeks ago Sakura underwent a mission to eliminate Jun’s son, she was successful. Yet for reasons unknown we believe Jun figured out that the death wasn’t accidental.”

She paused and took another long sip from her sake, this day was turning out to be a long one, “Just a couple of minutes ago two shinobi who had been on a mission with Sakura brought back the news that she has been kidnapped. Whoever took her knows that Konoha was involved with Jun’s son’s death. This mission is classified, no one can know that Sakura was taken, or why she was taken. You are to bring her back here before she’s delivered to Jun, otherwise things will get complicated and we might not be able to get her back. You must understand the village will sacrifice her for the sake of avoiding another war” –Naruto growled lowly and Tsunade shot him a look– “and there will be nothing Naruto nor I can do stop it.”

“Like hell there won’t be!” Naruto hissed, “I’ll kill them all if I have too!”

Kakashi and Sasuke exchanged looks in the face of Naruto’s outburst. Tsunade inclined her head slightly staring them each in the eyes, giving them a silent permission. Though she couldn’t say it out-loud, she wanted them to do everything they could to get Sakura back, even if that meant killing the whole compound so that no one talked again.

Tsunade gently place a hand on his tense back, “Naruto.”

He shook it off whipping around to face the room, “Are you done? Can we get going?” his face showed signs of the fox, small scars still graced his cheeks and eyes were a dark shade of brown, half-way between blue and red, the pupil slightly elongated.

Sighing sadly, Tsunade nodded, “Be careful all of you. This man was able to capture Sakura and easily kill one of our Chunins with a slit throat. We know nothing of his abilities.” She leaned forwards and handed a small slip of paper to Kakashi, “You’re in charge.”

Looking down and reading the name of the bar at which Sakura had been taken Kakashi nodded and then burned the paper. Letting the ashes slowly crumple to the floor, he kept his fist clenched tightly a second longer than necessary before he lifted his headband exposing his sharingan eye.

Lips pressed together tightly, Kakashi spoke, “Lets go.”

A blink of an eye later the five figures in the Hokage’s office flickered out of existence. Tsunade leaned back, the bottle in hand and downed the rest of it. She swivelled in her chair and stared out at the rising sun, the lump in her stomach tightening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The world passed around her, blurry and unfocused. Distantly, she felt a deep pain in her stomach where something continually pressed against her abdomen. Her cloudy gaze caught on a brown object, but…then it was green… and then brown?

It confused her.

Her head felt heavy and wrong. The world had started to get brighter, but she didn’t understand how it worked. Things were moving fast and every time she tried to focus on anything it refused to stay still long enough for her to make out what it was.

Sakura knew something was wrong with her. Yet she couldn’t make herself care. Her senses were dull, and she didn’t mind. Even after what she now realized was a shoulder suddenly jabbed hard into her stomach, eliciting a pained moan from the back of her throat.

Suddenly the world stopped moving and she could see that the green she stared at was the small bunches of grass, and the accompanying brown was a dirt road.

She cried out in pain, the sensation suddenly vivid, as the ground unexpectedly collided with her body. The grass tickled her nose, causing her to sneeze and she cried out again in surprise as the action pinched her tender stomach.

Moving her arms, she tried to get into a more comfortable position but found them to be bound together across her back, why was that? Her legs were also similarly bound based on the sensation. A set of brown boots appeared at the edge of her vision and she strained her head to look up at the figure.

Backgrounded by the rising sun, he appeared dark and wholly threatening as he stared down at her.

“Looks like you’re awake,” the man mused, and her brain tried desperately to identify why the voice was familiar.

When he leaned down to analyze her his vivid yellow eyes were like a punch in the gut. All at once everything came bursting back, her memory and her mind fully intact.

She scrambled to get away. Ignoring the pain in her stomach, she rolled until she was on her bottom. Then, using her core strength, she got into a sitting position before using her legs to push herself away from the man.

“Hello, sweetheart.” He didn’t bother looking worried that she might be able to escape.

Sakura tested her chakra and found it still unreachable. Glancing around quickly she realized there was nowhere for her to go.

“Who are you?” She prodded, “What have you done to me?”

“The name’s Riichi… You shinobi rely too much on chakra and are quite easy to kill once it’s taken away.” He taunted, taking a step closer to where she huddled against a tree. “What I want to know is why you’ve woken up so quickly. That sedative was supposed to last for three days and you’re awake not even six hours later. I know you still don’t have your chakra because otherwise you wouldn’t still be here curled in a ball like a scared little rabbit.” He laughed horribly, the sound disgusting in Sakura’s ears.

Sakura didn’t want to answer, but it hardly seemed important now, what was more important was to keep him talking so she could figure a way out of this situation.

“I’m Sakura Haruno,” She answered like that was an answer in itself, which it kind of was. “I’m Lady Tsunade’s apprentice, she’s a Queen of poisons. I’ve been building up my resistance to poisons and sedatives since I was 13, and I’ve built up quite the tolerance.” She smirked up at him, “You’d have to use at least 10x the normal amount to get me.” She laughed and spat in his face when he reached down to grab her.

She tried to twist her body away from him, but he grabbed her by the waist and plucked her back over his shoulder.

“I only have one sedative left,” He ground out as she struggled against his grip, “I’m happy to use it right now,” he threatened, “Or you can behave, and I’ll let you stay awake the rest of the way.”

She stilled in his arms and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why?”

“Because I’m bored.” He retorted, “and it’s not like you can escape anyways.”

Her mind ran, either he was very, very arrogant, or he was actually powerful enough not to be worried about her. She still hadn’t figured out how he’d taken away her ability to mold chakra. She huffed and didn’t give him an answer.

“I’ll take your silence as acceptance then.” He turned and started to walk down the path.

Inside Sakura sighed in relief. She eyed the small piece of fabric she’d left on the ground beside the tree. While she’d been playing the scared little girl, she’d actually been ripping up a piece of her shirt to leave behind. With her legs up, the view had been blocked from Riichi. A rescue team would hopefully be sent after her, and she was counting on them to notice it.

Suddenly she froze, and one clear thought permeated her body.

Was Sara still alive?

She was afraid to ask Riichi. She was afraid of the answer, because she felt she already knew it. She dearly hoped that the girl had had the right sense to run back to Reo once she’d noticed that Sakura had been taken. Yet in the brief time that Sakura had gotten to know the girl she knew that it was likely not the case. Did she really want to know? Did she want to be the cause of more death? As a medic this was the one thing that hurt.

Every. Single. Time.

There had been a time when she’d told herself that she would grow out of it, and that eventually she would see enough death that it wouldn’t hurt anymore. She’d stopped telling herself that a long time ago.

Steeling her stomach, she finally decided not to ask. Better to live in delusion for a bit longer.

As though hearing her internal dilemma Riichi spoke once more, “You haven’t asked about your little kunoichi friend.”

She didn’t deign him a response. The silence stretched out between them, and Sakura allowed it, revelled in it. She wasn’t going to play this game with him.

He smacked her hard on her bottom. Scaring the shit out of her and causing her stomach to again brush up against his shoulder. Gritting her teeth, she struggled to keep in her groan. When had she gotten this injury? She couldn’t remember.

“I’m not letting you stay awake so that can ignore me.” Riichi groaned, “Don’t you want to know what happened to your friend?”

“No.” Her reply was instantaneous and her tone hard.

He spanked her butt again, hard, leaving her with a painful tingling sensation.

“Don’t touch me.” She snarled through her teeth.

“You have no power here.” His voice was angry, and she sensed that he was wholly serious. “I can do whatever I want.”

She was instantly glad that she was tossed over his shoulder like bag of potatoes and she didn’t have to stare into his yellow eyes.

“If I want to rape you, torture you, or do anything, anything at all to you, I can.” His hands gripped the sides of her legs and she struggled to keep a pained moan from escaping her throat. His grip was tight, he was so unbelievably strong.

“So, if I say talk, you fucking talk bitch.”

She nodded absentmindedly, no matter that it hurt her pride. That didn’t matter right now. Her only goal at the moment was to survive. Stay awake, and maybe she could figure out a way to escape.

Though she had left that piece of fabric on the ground, she refused to allow herself to luxury of waiting for someone to rescue her. She could damn well rescue herself. Well she truly hoped she could, because there might not even be anyone coming.

“I don’t want to know what you did to her.” Sakura’s voice was small, and she fought with herself for every word.

“Too bad! I’m going to tell you anyways.” He laughed cruely, revelling in her discomfort and terror.

“She was a cute little thing and honestly I wish I’d had the luxury to really enjoy her pain, but we were in a bit of a rush you and I.”

Sakura felt herself fall deeper and deeper into despair as Riichi described how he’d tied Sara up and carved a message into her very skin. She’d been awake the entire time and Sakura’s heart twisted at the thought of how unimaginably excruciating that would have been for the young woman.

Riichi laughed maniacally as he told her he’d slit Sara’s throat and had let her drown in her own blood. She tuned him out when he began to talk passionately about how beautiful her pain had sounded and how sweetly her blood had smelled. This man was disgusting, thoroughly revolting. She wanted to puke. He took his pleasure from the pain of others and she could only imagine what other unspeakable things he’s done.

Slowly she began to plan his death.

Glancing around she noticed that they were likely a third of the way between Keishi and Jun’s Compound. She was suddenly glad that this was all happening in Fire Country because she knew the land very well. Based on her estimate they would be there either early tomorrow morning, if they travelled through the night, or mid-day tomorrow, if they didn’t.

“That damned bitch did get a little signal out though. Maybe someone will be dumb enough to come after you and I’ll get a new subject to play with.”

His words turned her blood to ice. She suddenly decided she really didn’t want anyone coming to rescue her. They wouldn’t be prepared, and he’d kill them. He’d kill them brutally and without remorse. Maybe if she could get a message to anyone who might be following, she could warn them away.

She didn’t understand how this man had gotten so totally under her skin that she feared for her rescuer’s success. Kakashi, if he was sent because of his tracking abilities, was unbelievably powerful. She knew that.

She knew that.

Yet, she also knew that getting taken by surprise in a life or death battle could very easily spell death. She’d been taken by surprise and look at her now. She’d become too arrogant and she feared her friends had also.

She had to get out of this situation on her own. Figure out how he managed to block her chakra. That was the key. If she could get her chakra back, she would have a chance at killing him, and she had to kill him.

There was no choice.

Even without her, if he managed to bring back the news that Sakura Haruno had been the prostitute with Yasuo when he died then village would become implicated and that could cause a war.

There had already been so much war and so much loss, Neji, Ino’s dad, and so many others. She would do everything she could to prevent another war, to prevent further deaths.

As the day rolled by Sakura’s mind whirled. After a while, Riichi stopped talking about blood, torture and death and he engaged her in conversation. She answered his questions half-heartedly, only enough to save herself from his wrath. She spent the majority of her concentration on analyzing the last 12 hours. She even made a point to ask him some questions, subtly of course, to try and figure him out.

When they stopped for the night, Sakura had a theory for his how his technique might work. As she settled against a tree as far from him as she could get, she hoped, and pleaded with the universe that she was right.

She feigned sleep. Closing her eyes, even if all her instincts screamed at her not to. She evened her breath gradually and allowed her figure to slowly slump over, as one naturally would when falling asleep. She listened closely as Riichi slowly rustled about, before finally settling down himself. She estimated it took a whole hour before his breath evened out, and she was fully convinced he was asleep. She waited another half an hour before risking opening her eyes.

They had no fire, only the light of the moon illuminated the small clearing that they had set up in. Thankfully, it was a full moon. Her eyes adjusted to the light quickly and she scanned the area, letting out a silent breath when she saw that he was indeed asleep.

As silently as she could, she twisted her body and after a small struggle managed to bring her bound hands to her front. Now that she could see the knots, she tested them again and found them to be snug, but not impossible. Slowly she worked her hands, careful to be as quiet as possible. After what seemed like an eternity the rope fell limp to the ground. Her bound legs were quick work afterwards and before long she was silently creeping away from the clearing.

She’d decided that the first step was to get away from Riichi. She would regroup a safe distance from the man and organize a plan of attack to kill him.

She climbed a tree a short distance from the clearing and settled on a high branch that had a view into the clearing. Once seated against the trunk she allowed herself to take a breath. She watched Riichi from her viewport high in the trees for a good while to see if he noticed her absence. When nothing happened for over half an hour, she turned her thoughts inwards.

Internally, she prodded at her chakra coils and sighed in relief when she felt a small flicker of response. She’d realized earlier in the day that it was Riichi himself that was blocking her access to her chakra.

It was the only thing that made sense.

She’d lost her chakra before he’d injected her with the sedative, so that had been easily ruled out. He hadn’t made any hand signs that normally indicated the beginning of a justu. She’d decided that the most likely cause was through skin contact with Riichi, some kind of bloodline.

It was the only thing that made sense.

Whatever this was, his ability, it was unique to him, she was sure. The scientific part of her yearned to dissect him slowly to figure out how exactly he was able to completely bar her of her chakra. Based on his misestimate of her ability to metabolize the sedative she’d also made the assumption that she would recover much faster than he likely expected. That had been the biggest risk in her plan, that his ability was not wholly separate from the body’s metabolism. She sent out a thanks to Lady Tsunade for turning her body into a machine. Though her chakra coils weren’t fully open to her yet, she could feel her access to them growing by the minute, if her estimates were correct, she’d have full contact in an hour.

She spent the next hour fighting sleep while she stared down at the sleeping figure in the clearing. Her muscles groaned and twitched as she forced them to hold the position high in the trees. Afraid that any movement would wake the dangerous man, she gritted her teeth as she felt her muscles cramp up. Fighting the discomfort, she continued to hold vigil over the clearing until she felt her was chakra fully respond.

Slowly and quietly, she jumped down from the tree and crept silently across the forest floor. While she ambled through the forest, she lost sight of the clearing and the sleeping figure within it. As she approached the camp, she ducked behind a cluster of ferns to make sure her target still lay in the spot she’d left him.

She’d easily decided on engaging with him from a distance, least he neutralize her chakra again. She’d start with a thrown kunai to the head, and if that didn’t work, she had a small collection of long range jutsus she could use.

Pulling down a large leaf she strained her eyes to peer into the camp. Silently stepping out of the fern bush she pressed her hand against one of her hidden seal compartments that she’d gotten sown into her uniform. With a light puff, that sounded as loud a gunshot in the silent dark night, a kunai fell into her hand. Her heart started to speed up and she began to sweat. One shot. She extended her arm and with a flick of her wrist threw the weapon towards the slumped sleeping man.

A loud ‘thunk’ resonated across the forest and in a blast of air white smoke appeared.

Where did he go? SHIT!

She stepped further away from the ferns and began to take a wider look at the clearing when she froze in her step.

“Looking for me sweetheart?”

His breath was slimy against her neck and his bare hand on her arm burned her. His grip tightened on her arm, nails digging into her skin, and blood began to spill down the length of her arm. He pulled her arm up and back.

Sakura did nothing, could do nothing, as he lightly licked the pooling blood.

“What sort of punishment should you get for escaping then trying to kill me?” He paused savoring her terror, “I wonder if your screams sound as good as your blood tastes?”

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shadow-and-quill · 5 years

Text

.:Human Folly:. (AU2)

Characters: Zhang Ru (weapon spirit, AU Ritsuka), Torioi Shinya (cultivator, AU Sari)

Warning(s): Mention of blood. My shitty knowledge of ancient China and cultivation practices.

Origin Date: 18 April 2019

In the wake of the attack on his sect’s grounds, the spirit of the bow Endian can’t help but wonder why his mind is stuck in dreams of his past life as the famous artificer.

(Part of the AU2 arc with @ninetales-carbuncle )

----♦•♦----

Despite not requiring sleep in these days, the dreams still find Zhang Ru. The spirit is proud of his awareness of what’s about him even within the yew bow that is his home now. His master is a kind boy, one that needs someone to watch his back. And Zhang Ru is glad to do that as much as he kneaded his nose in frustration after some failed social event. The last thing he needed was the distraction brought upon him by the mix of dreams and memories.

But it’s when Torioi Shinya sleeps that the ancient spirit finds himself restless. Even more so since the visit of Akiyama Touma and…that Ghost City representative. Hai Shen. There was a mutual disdain there of one another even if they had hardly passed words. Why? They didn’t know each other in their past life, not that he could remember.

Why was he even thinking this? Pale hands wrung about the crescent moon painted fan in his grip. This evening Zhang Ru had taken to sitting in Shinya’s window, looking down at the melting snow of Katsuragi Peak. There was also a full moon out, setting the white stone structures of the sect into a beautiful glow. It wasn’t as if he could go terribly far from his physical vessel of the weapon anyway.

Oh yes. Because he couldn’t rest. Sometimes he still wished he could sleep. If he could, at least humans had moments of sleeping so deeply that they didn’t dream. And he oh so wished for that right now. Lavender eyes, always so harsh, were unguarded in their weariness as they gazed over the landscape.

How many years, centuries, had it been and that night was as vivid as if it were hours ago? A wry smirk. Well, everything but /his/ face. Perhaps it was aftereffects of his desperate actions to seal himself inside /something/ to live on while his flesh died. Magic worked in emergency situations hardly went well, even with such a level-headed mind as the artificer. That delicate fan he held had been his lifeline.

A small sigh, such human habits still. The deep black of his hair fell over his shoulder, loose in a feigned attempt at rest. His layers of lavender and deep violet had been shed to a simple cream underrobe and slacks. It was pitiful, really. Pretending to be human, mirroring his master’s wake and sleep patterns. But it kept him sane. It kept him from descending into a detachment that led to weapons becoming unstable or sealing themselves.

It had been winter then, hadn’t it?

His brows furrowed, the fan going to tap against his chin as he glared at the moon. No, don’t think of this again.

They’d both been dressed in fur-lined cloaks. He’d forgotten how much of a chill could creep into the Huangshan’s rocky peaks. That man had laughed and simply teased that he’d been away ‘playing noble’ for far too long. But he was no noble. Just some backwater village brat with a keen mind that had wanted to protect his friends and family.

The mountains’ treacherous ways prevented cultivators from patrolling close or answering calls for aid. As a result the unnatural things were free to pick off souls from Zhang Ru’s home and they lived in fear of the dark. His own parents had been victims, friends of the family taking in the young boy. Maybe it had started off as bitterness but then he’d become enthralled with the concept of using physical items to assist on augmenting one’s qi. With such things, cultivators weren’t needed. They could protect themselves.

His inventions became more and more sophisticated, the tiny village no longer cowed by the undead or wrathful spirits. Enough that it had earned attention from the cultivation sects and beyond. And that was how Zhang Ru’s name had spread throughout the region. Many came to him for help, for advice, and he continued to develop ways for the common man to protect themselves and become self-sufficient. No more living in fear.

But with such success always came a dark path. His tools were taken to be used for profit, sold in hidden markets, disassembled and reassembled. And life had become a drudge to keep these wicked souls away from the pure intentions of his creations. Tired…he’d become so tired of humans’ greed. Perhaps it had been meant for them to be preyed upon.

So when an old friend came to visit him, a reminder of simpler times, Zhang Ru had embraced the familiarity with heart, soul, and body. Looking back with a jaded mind now, the artificer had entered that relationship far too quickly. He was a shrewd man by nature, he should’ve known.

But it had felt real. For years he shared his heart and bed with the man whose face was now hidden from his memories. It had been a sanctuary, a place where he didn’t need to hold himself tall and strong, where he didn’t have to have impeccable manners and eloquence, where he could rest in peace with his head on the crook of another human’s shoulder and simply enjoy the silence.

Zhang Ru had had many suitors. It was no surprise with his quickly accumulated wealth and fame. But he wanted none of that. So when that dear friend (he couldn’t even remember his name now, it died on his tongue) had proposed after all those years, this was the one time such words didn’t feel him with apathy and disgust. No, he’d smiled. A bright smile that only /this/ man had ever seen on his face ever since they were children.

And he had said yes.

They were to marry back in their home among the Huangshan mountains. Something private, discreet, away from prying eyes. The artificer hadn’t been able to free himself from social engagements for months. And waiting had driven him to a nervous wreck behind closed doors as he waited the chance to return home to a simpler place. Hells, he’d even taken to nibbling those perfectly curved nails and pacing about his chambers.

Frost had descended upon the valley when he’d finally arrived. Though not a cultivator by training. Zhang Ru’s abilities were augmented enough to let him travel by flying sword, a gift from a trusted advisor in the courts. One of the few souls he could count as being sincere. After all, one needed the guidance of a proper cultivator to make his tools as efficient as possible. As soon as his boots had hit the ground…

----♦•♦----

~ That smile was unguarded. Only /he/ ever saw it. Even though it was so DAMN cold, Zhang Ru didn’t care. Buried under furs and heavy layers of robes, the blade was swiftly sheathed and he hurried into the shelter of the tall skinny trees. There was a path up there. Unchanged since he was an infant. It led to the cliffs that held the shrines of the village below. A bundle was held against his chest and Zhang Ru felt he could feel ambient warmth off of it. Silly, this wasn’t enchanted or crafted with any of his power! Well…besides his own fingers and hours of needlepoint by candlelight.

He must have looked a fool with that grin on his face, still dressed as a noble of the capital city. The waist-length hair, deep black as a raven’s wing, was up in a proper bun and secured with an amethyst pin. His attire was richly tailored, the boots polished leather, and he carried no less than five of his inventions on his person. And here he was traipsing about in these FREEZING mountains.

Zhang Ru had arrived early, of course. Punctual by nature this event had made the artificer show with even more leeway than he normally allotted to himself. Breath (oh he couldn’t even remember how it was like to /breathe/ anymore) fogged in the late autumn air as he’d hurried up the wooden steps and passed trees that hung heavy with frozen droplets. Fog obscured the peaks in the distance. It would be a marvelous sight if Zhang Ru hadn’t grown up here, desensitized to the natural marvels of the region.

Up and around and by the time he’d reached the top of the stairs he doubled over to catch his breath, a familiar catch in his chest. He’d been frail of health as a child, some ailment of his lungs. Wonderful treatment in the capital had eased the symptoms to negligible levels but the cold and exertion in his excitement tickled a bit.

No time for that!

Pale cheeks rosy from the cold at least Zhang Ru had the mindset to give a proper bow to the stone monuments tucked away in the curve of the mountain. Well, the best he could with a parcel under one arm. No matter how far he traveled, tradition was tradition.

And then it was time to wait. But his patience was hardly as strong as it normally was. Goodness, he was a mess, wasn’t he? The parcel was opened. Long pale fingers ran over the red cloth. He was used to weaving and sewing from a young age. There wasn’t much money to go about the small village, especially so with the attacks. Mending clothes and such was normal. But this…this was something he’d put all his heart and soul into. Cheeks pinkened further. Here he was acting like some bashful bride! Him! The fearsome and icy Zhang Ru, creator of qi cultivation for the common man! A ‘hmph’ and the long veil was pulled from its protective paper.

The thin cloth was transparent, its rich red stark against the white and grey of the world about them. Gold thread lined the edges and Zhang Ru pulled it close about him and over his head. Unconventional this would be, but dammit, he was going to enjoy it! There weren’t many things the young man could enjoy nowadays with the constant politics and squabbling and paranoia that came with power. A childish giggle left his lips that would have left the stoic man mortified at one point.

Not tonight.

And so he waited, sitting on a nearby wooden bench. He remembered when these were made, a place to let villagers below enjoy the comforting sights of the shrine.

And he waited.

In time nerves began to grow. Had something happened? Did he get the date wrong?

Had…he been left to stand here in the dark, abandoned? ~

----♦•♦----

And then there had been the sound of boots on the stone.

Zhang Ru rubbed his face. No, he didn’t want to remember this again.

And he’d turned, a smile on his face and a scolding on his lips. That familiar handsome face wore a smile as well.

And gods taken him, he’d been so enamored, so eager for this, that he’d missed that intent hiding in that smile.

The dagger had sunk into his chest without a protest. How could he have known? The artificer had dealt with multiple assassination attempts, greedy men attempting to steal his designs and knowledge. But…why here, why now?

His mind still refused to work even in the pain. He hadn’t pushed away the other, he was frozen as warmth trickling from the blade. Comforting warmth crept down his chilled skin.

Why? It left his lips, rang in his eyes.

Why?

Greed. The folly of mortals.

Even as he laid dying in the snow, that red veil about him, his body had been searched for anything of value. The trinkets, his journal, his sword. All taken. And they had left him as the snow began falling, tears in his eyes.

Why?

Numb inside and out. But Zhang Ru was a man of determination and will. His mind pushed past his heart’s shock and betrayal. No. His work, his legacy, it wouldn’t be left like this. Fuck the rest of those men. He was still him. Shaking bloody fingers had found the one thing the thieves, /assassins/, hadn’t taken. A simple hand-painted fan tucked inside his robes. It had no power, just an average little item. And with his last breaths, Zhang Ru trusted his life to it.

To this day he had no idea who’d originally found the fan. His soul had slept, dormant. But the artificer had been fortunate enough that he’d never been discarded. He was shuffled from owner to owner throughout the centuries until he was taken in by the Torioi clan. The Katsuragi sect was impressive in its glory days of growing China and their cultivators keen and disciplined individuals. Thus his presence had been found and transferred into the impressive collection of enchanted weapons within the Peaks’ vaults.

Once he’d woken it had taken a few years for him to remember his origins. With the aid of the multiple masters he’d been assigned to guard in the sect, Zhang Ru was baffled to see zero mention of his name in texts. What had happened? He’d been erased utterly and completely. Nothing of his achievements and deeds. His seals didn’t appear on any of his creations and inventions.

It had been a shock. But there had been no time to ruminate on what had occurred over the time he’d slept. In a twist of irony, the keen Zhang Ru was now a weapon himself. He’d been transferred to a beautiful whitewood yew bow named Endian, ‘grace.’. His first master had been a strong young woman of the Torioi line, that white hair and pale skin a clear indicator of the true blood in her.

And so his new history had begun. Master through master for a good century. And now he was in the hands of Torioi Shinya.

Another sigh in the stillness of the night. No breath left his lips. He hadn’t taken to physically manifesting this night. Shinya had amazing qi reserves, unnaturally so. It was why the proud cultivator family had adopted a stranger into its bloodline. Still, there was no need to tax his master for no reason but his restlessness.

What would happen now? The Akiyama were here. The Ghost City was also poking about much to Shinya’s fear. When Endian had been entrusted to Shinya when he was still young, Zhang Ru had bonded with him as expected and he’d seen the torture that the child had been put through at the hands of merchants in the Ghost City. He’d been set to be cut into pieces and sold off for his strong spiritual energy. The poor boy had already had an eye taken from him before Lady Torioi had found him and spirited him away.

His master’s unease as well as that ghost, Hai Shen, were things he didn’t like. Those lavender eyes darkened, near violet, as he thought of that figure. There was some instant, immediate hostility between the two of them. Not that Zhang Ru was exactly personable to begin with. He hadn’t been in life and it had only become more jaded as a spirit entity.

The fan was tapped against his chin again. There were going to be changes about. The Katsuragi had fought to maintain its isolationist cultivation practices in the modern day. People simply didn’t believe in such ways anymore, didn’t have the heart to adhere to the many rules. And now something out there was wreaking havoc on important places and people in the cultivation world.

There was a war on the horizon.

#short story #alternate universe #au2

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