monochromaticbeans

[monochromaticbeans]

This is why he's my favorite. 💙 Thank you for this!

Some Keisuke Baji Facts (Not headcanons)...

I got into the Tokyo Revengers fandom right after watching the 1st season of the anime and from there I started reading the manga until I got caught up with it. Now, I'm up-to-date with everything related to Tokrev, even the spin-off manga as well...

Now, I have an issue with how people interpret Baji's character and how they portray him in fanfics or headcanon posts. I know you can have your own headcanons, but there's also a thing called facts or being canonically accurate. Most people interpret Baji as:

Keisuke Baji is an idiot, a literal moron.

Keisuke Baji is reckless, restless, always causing havoc, always seeking fun and adventure; in short, an energetic thrill seeker/troublemaker.

Well, that's far from what people think about Baji...

Baji's NOT an idiot

You can't call Baji an idiot just because he isn't academically smart or doesn't get passing grades in school. Sure, he's stupid when it comes to his studies, but other than that, he's really smart and highly intellectual in every other aspect. Moreover, Chifuyu's the one who's a moron here. In many fanfics and headcanon posts, I saw people writing about how dumb Baji is and how smart Chifuyu is and then talking about how Chifuyu guides/helps Baji to understand things or solve problems. And I'm like huh?!?! Have you not read the spin-off manga yet??? (Btw, the spin-off manga is CANON since it's been made under Ken Wakui sensei's supervision and he's heavily involved with the project...)

The whole manga is about what a big dumbass Chifuyu is and how smart, intellectual, and level-headed Baji is. Heck, Chifuyu's so stupid that this is what Baji has to say about him -

So, yeah...

CHIFUYU is the moron here, NOT Baji.

Also...

Baji's NOT an adrenaline junkie

I'm not gonna share pictures for that as proof. Instead, I'll just add the links to the sites where you can read the spin-off manga. I'll say it again - Baji's NOT some reckless, restless dude who loves causing havoc/chaos any time and every time he feels like it (unlike Hanma, Smiley, or anyone batshit crazy we know from this series). Throughout the story, Baji is shown to be quite mature and sensible as a person and also as a leader. He's more responsible, wiser, and more rational than everyone around him. Sure he gets very energetic and excited when fighting other delinquents, but other than that, he's just a simple guy going on with his everyday life. I understand why people think of him like that since this is literally what wiki tells us -

But he's more than just that...

Instead in the spin-off, Baji is portrayed as a calm, collected, and composed individual in each and every scene he appears, while Chifuyu and Ryusei are the ones shown to be more chaotic in nature who love getting into trouble at every opportunity they get. Also, Baji doesn't speak too much and always observes things around him quietly from the sideline, meaning unlike others, he's pretty observant. He's never once shown to be causing problems for others, but rather, he's the one solving the issues that others cause around him, meaning he's a dependable and attentive person (just like Draken). Not only is he calm and composed, but he also immediately figures out any situation in front of him and then confidently gives orders to the others; just reading the spin-off manga will make you realize how effective Baji is as a leader/1st division captain. And, in that episode (season 1, episode 14) where Mikey tells Takemichi that Baji punches people for no apparent reason, yeah, there's actually a reason why Baji does that and such a thing happened only ONCE in his lifetime (Go read chapter 9 of the spin-off manga and you'll also understand why Baji did that). Also, this is Mikey we're talking about; do you really think he'll give us the correct info? He just dropped that info without any context, and no wonder why Takemichi went like "WTF?" after hearing that about Baji... Anyway, Baji's more like Draken in a way, so to speak, and that's why he and Draken get along really well.

No wonder Baji's spending his birthday afternoon with Draken instead of spending it with Mikey or Chifuyu...

So, in short, Baji is:

Not some rowdy, adrenaline junkie like Hanma or Smiley.

An attentive, compassionate, and dependable leader.

Confident while giving out his orders.

A calm, composed, and observant individual.

Very smart and highly intellectual.

Cautious and doesn't cause trouble to others.

Actually one of the most mature ones in the group besides Draken and Mitsuya.

Baji loves fun and adventure from time to time, sure, but he's NOT an idiotic troublemaker.

Links to the spin-off manga -

[monochromaticbeans]

This. Omg this. 💙 I don't expect everyone to appreciate him the way a lot of us do, but I hate seeing him being dismissed as stupid and/or abusive. Thank you OP!

Some of Baji's mischaracterization that gives me the ICK

It's 2024 and there are people out there who still can't understand Baji's character and mischaracterize him heavily, mostly because of the Bajifuyu ship.

DISCLAIMER: You can ship whoever you want. I'm just tired of seeing my favourite character constantly being mischaracterized because of toxic shippers. Also I'm not a shipper myself, I do not romanticize any of the relationships I mention below.

The biggest issue with Baji's character is the fact that Bajifuyu shippers (and sometimes just the fandom in general) constantly ignore Kazutora's role in Baji's life, meanwhile Kazutora made a huge impact on Baji's character. You can clearly see it not just in the anime or in the manga, but in the spin-off too.

Baji and Kazutora were that duo, they were a literal separated team within Toman. They met naturally, become friends instantly and spent most of their time together (many times without Toman). It's accepted by the fandom, that Kazutora's first real friend was Baji, but also Baji's first close friend was Kazutora.

Obviously Mikey and Baji were close as kids, but after Baji moved to a different place they weren't that close. I bet this is the reason why Baji didn't know about Shinichiro's bike shop, since when they met regularly Baji was a little kid and Shinichiro was a teenager without a bike shop. It also shows that Mikey and Baji aren't that close, they are more like childhood buddies than close friends.

I can talk about this for hours but now I only wrote it as a small disclaimer, before I get into my points, so let's go.

I am sick of it when:

they call Baji stupid (he literally outsmarted Kisaki, being smart not equals only book smart)

people headcanon him as a mean, aggressive, abusive bf (he is canonly no.1 best lover and he literally died because he has a heart of gold, let this bs go pls)

they can't understand the reason behind his suicide and make it a ship war (ICK)

people can't accept the fact Baji loves his friends differently, and not everyone is his bestie (it doesn't mean he does not love them, or prefers someone over the other but love can be different towards different people and it's absolutely normal!)

they make his character all about Bajifuyu (he is an individual, stop bringing up Chifuyu EVERYTIME when it comes to Baji. His character is much more than a guy in a dominant-submissive fanmade yaoi ship people like dragging him into!)

they make Chifuyu the good, perfect friend while constantly dragging Baji down and made him the bad guy in their relationship (I could write a whole essay just about this being a bullshit)

when they romanticize Bajifuyu (Baji canonly sees Chifuyu as a younger brother figure said by Baji's mom, but there are people out there who still believes unironically that they are in love... WHY?)

they ignore that Baji is very caring and affectionate not just towards Chifuyu, he is like this because these are his own personality traits. He behaves like this with everyone who's close to him. (Mikey, Kazutora, Ryuusei and just Toman in general)

people say Chifuyu was the only one who understood Baji's feelings and aims (the literal reason Baji died was because no one really understood his goals and behaviour, not even Chifuyu)

they romanticize Chifuyu's obsessiveness towards Baji (if Chifuyu was a girl, he would be cancelled for this behaviour immediately, but the double standard won again)

people make his death an opportunity to romanticize Bajifuyu (biggest ICK)

they say Baji is only distant with Chifuyu beacuse he is a tsundere (there are so many situations when Chifuyu truly annoys Baji, e.g. he said it many times that Chifuyu's infatuation really disturbs him and asked Chifuyu to stop)

Bajifuyu shippers ignore and hate Kazutora just because he disturbs their ship

they say Baji was a bad influence to Kazutora (Kazutora hung out with gangs even before he met Baji, he was already a part of the underworld. the reason Kazutora turned out that way was his abusive father and his horrible childhood in general. Baji literally saved him, and he could finally be himself around Baji without any judgement or harassment)

they ignore or even DENY Bajitora's bond because of Bajifuyu

they accept Bajifuyu, Kazufuyu or even the Bajitrio but HATE Bajitora (the biggest bullshit ever)

they can't recognise the fanservice of Bajifuyu and calls them canon because of the clear fanservice acts

people think Bajitora is one sided (more Baji sided) meanwhile Tora loves Baji more than his own life and shows it many times how much he loves Baji and how much Baji means to him

they accept that Chifuyu never changed his hairstyle after Baji made it for him (and obviously they romanticize it) but they are hating because Kazutora looked exactly like Baji in bad toman timeline

people ignore Bajitora and always forgets that they are very close to each other in every timeline. the new panels Wakui drew were also about Kazutora putting Chifuyu to his place after Chifuyu completly ignored Tora and disturbed his time with his best friend. (we all know Kazutora is very possessive with Baji for obvious reasons and does not tolerate being disrespected by someone)

The list could go on and on but these are the main problems I still see in this fandom when it comes to Baji's character.

I'm tired of seeing this amazingly well-written character turns into a boring, abusive, mean guy by the fandom who is only an abuser in a toxic fanmade yaoi ship.

SIDE NOTE:

To all the people who dislike him/call him mean and aggressive because he beat Chifuyu up:

This anime is based on a manga which takes place in the early 2000's gangster world in Japan. He is the captain of the 1st division, he is the leader, and his role is not just to be the strongest in the division but also to manage his team, bc this is also what a leader does. If someone is disrespectful, breaks the rules and shows a bad example to the others he has to punish them. In this world this is how things go. This won't make him a bad person, or an aggressive jerk. Baji can be very calm and collected when it comes to leading his division. He is a very good leader, who takes care of his teammates, so no surprise he is really loved by his division. 

Also when he beat Chifuyu up before joining Valhalla: he hated himself for doing that. But he had to, he had no other choice. And Chifuyu had every right to stand up against Baji and tell him he's not doing it. But since Chifuyu never questions Baji's decisions as the captain of the first division he agreed with this one too, and also because he wanted to help him. Chifuyu knew exactly what he was doing when he let Baji doing this to him, and he went along with it. Stop bringing this up everytime and use it against Baji.

[monochromaticbeans]

Really enjoying this! 🥰

Yuuna walked through the apartment, patting down the pockets of her pants and after checking her coat she sighed. She must have forgotten it at the flower store. She felt her heart race a little. She had promised everyone to keep it on her at all times. She peeked around the corner of the hallway and smiled. Mitsuya had fallen asleep on the couch, a garment he was hand sewing a seam for rested on his chest. She walked up to him silently and carefully put the piece of shimmering moss green fabric on the small coffee table before grabbing a blanket. He always slept on the couch like this. When she had first come to realise he didn’t have a room of his own she had insisted he’d take hers and she’d sleep on the couch instead but he had shrugged and smiled a little apologetically. ‘It has always been this way, I have a hard time sleeping anywhere else by now’, he had sighed. She tucked him in carefully and made sure to leave a little light on before she grabbed her coat. She chastised herself internally as she snuck down the stairs. How could she forget the most important thing?

---

Click the link on top to read!

Rating: Mature (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Relationships: Draken | Ryuuguuji Ken/Sano Emma, Kakuchou/Kurokawa Izana, Matsuno Chifuyu/Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Tokyo Revengers Original Timeline, Angst, Alternate Timelines, Romance, Family Feels, Fluff, Friendship, dark impulse, Tokyo Revengers Manga Spoilers, Spice, What if they actually talked about their feelings?, All our favourites as young adults!

[monochromaticbeans]

Especially after coming back to writing fanfics after a ten year hiatus... And especially after writing a slow burn story that's taken months of writing, rewriting, and more rewriting. 😢

imma get jumped for sure but writing on here is so weird at times. because wdym if you post a fic with a well thought out plot and everything it’s not gonna do well but if you post a smutty or heavily suggestive fic it’s gonna have a fuck ton of notes 😭🤨 i’ve seen this shit happen on wattpad in real time too and it was weird af. like i completely understand why some people don’t wanna post anymore or don’t wanna post as often cause shit is ridiculous af fr

on top of that people apparently don’t like reading long fics and commenting anymore? i’ve been seeing writers talk about this for a few years now and it’s like ???? what happened? when did this shift start to take place and how do we undo it because it’s getting weird out here fr

[monochromaticbeans]

Chapter 9: I Will Follow

Where you lead, I will follow

Anywhere that you tell me to

If you need, you need me to be with you

I will follow where you lead

“Where You Lead, I Will Follow” ~ Carole King

The rumble of the motorcycle thrummed through Hikari’s body as she clung to Keisuke's waist. The city blurred around them as the afternoon sun shone through puffy, white clouds floating lazily overhead, the light soft and golden between shifting spots of shade.

The wind tore through her hair and whipped stray strands across her face. She closed her eyes, letting herself get lost in the speed, the steady rhythm of Keisuke’s breathing beneath her fingers, and the freedom of hurtling through Tokyo on the back of a bike.

They sped through the city streets, weaving through the pulse of traffic, until the noise began to fade, replaced by the soft rustling of trees and the softness of the world slowing down. Musashi Shrine came into view, standing quietly as it had always been, waiting for them. It was the kind of place where secrets could turn into history if you left them long enough.

The rest of the group was already there, gathered near the entrance with an unusual sense of purpose. Even Mikey, whose idea of “serious” usually involved either sleep or food, seemed quietly resolute as he stood with his hands in his pockets.

“You’re late,” Mikey greeted them with a lazy grin, giving a casual wave.

“Yeah, Hikari had to make a pit stop,” Baji replied, his tone playful as he tossed her a sidelong grin that suggested she’d taken far longer than necessary and should probably feel guilty about it—not that she did.

She rolled her eyes, shooting him a dry look. “What, I was barely gone a minute. You’re acting like I took a whole ‘Hyperbolic Time Chamber’ day.”

Baji snorted, but there was a subtle tension beneath the laughter, as if the usual banter were just the surface of something deeper. The group fell into a loose circle, their voices dropping naturally as the conversation shifted to the real reason they’d gathered: Kazutora’s trouble with an old “friend.”

Black Dragon loomed large over them, an undeniable threat that cast a shadow across the group. But as they stood there, just a ragtag bunch of friends who happened to ride bikes and fight together, something began to change. The air around them shifted, charged with the weight of something larger than themselves.

Baji was the one to break the silence, stepping forward. “Let’s start a gang,” he announced. The words weren’t really a suggestion; they were a proclamation, carrying the kind of finality usually reserved for summoning ancient spirits or declaring what to eat for dinner. “Something special that belongs to us.”

Hikari’s heart skipped a beat. This was the Keisuke she knew—fierce and unyielding, carving his own path and insisting his friends join him on it. There was no arguing with him, though to be fair, she didn't plan on it. This was family. Whatever they built here, she would be part of it. They all would.

Baji’s eyes swept over the group, his voice steady as he laid out the foundation of what they would become. “The Invincible Mikey is our leader. Big Brother Draken’s the vice-commander. Mitsuya the mediator will lead the elite guard.” His grin returned for a moment as he turned to Pah-chin. “And Pah-chin will carry our banner.”

Kazutora, ever the conspirator, leaned in with a smirk. “What about you and me?”

Baji’s grin widened. “We’re the ones who get angry the fastest, so we’re the attack unit.”

Draken’s eyes fell on Hikari, who stood quietly beside Baji, her gaze thoughtful. “What about Hikari?” he asked, serious as ever. “She’s one of us. She can’t just hang back.”

The attention swung her way, and she felt the peculiar sensation of suddenly becoming the temporary center of the universe—a universe made up of six kids and a collective curiosity about her future involvement. Before she could answer, Baji cut in. “You’re right. She can lead—”

“No,” she said quickly, hands raised as if fending off the invisible responsibility. “I don’t want that. I just want to be with you, Keisuke.”

Baji blinked, unprepared for the bluntness of her answer. She didn’t want a title, and she certainly didn’t want a formal position. What she needed, as he’d come to understand somewhere along the line, was just to be here—at his side.

“If you don’t want to be a captain, you could be vice-captain,” Mitsuya offered with a gentle smile, always the peacemaker. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

But she shook her head, her gaze locked with Keisuke’s again, her voice calm and steady. “I’ll follow you anywhere, but I don’t want to lead anyone.”

Her words hung between them, quiet but unshakable, and Keisuke seemed to soften in that moment, seeing her with the kind of unspoken understanding they both had. Loyalty ran in her veins as much as it did in his, but it was loyalty to him before anything else.

“You sure?” he asked, voice soft, an uncharacteristic hint of doubt creeping in.

She nodded. “Yeah. Just let me be in your group. That’s all I need.”

Baji sighed, running a hand through his hair, though his smile grew a little warmer. “Fine. You don’t want to be a captain or a vice-captain. But you’re at least gonna be third seat, and that’s that.”

She felt the weight of the decision settle over her and smiled, giving a small nod. “Alright,” she agreed, her voice steady. “Third seat. But only because you asked.”

“Good,” he said, nudging her shoulder with that spark of mischief back in his eyes. “’Cause I wasn’t letting you off the hook that easy.”

With the roles decided and another layer of their bond settling among them, there remained one final, crucial matter to address. A name. After all, every gang worth remembering has a name. And if they were going to carve out their place in Tokyo history—or at least in the annals of Shibuya—it needed the right kind of weight, something that would linger in the minds of friends and enemies alike.

And Mikey had the perfect one. He turned to the others, his face beaming with inspiration. “Tokyo Manjiro Gang,” he said confidently, a grin creeping onto his face as though he’d just unlocked the secrets of the universe.

There was a pause, a brief moment where the group collectively questioned their ears to see if perhaps they’d misheard. Then, as one, the unanimous verdict fell upon them: “Lame.”

The discussion continued with the subtle absurdity of a royal council debating a national decree, each member of the group offering ideas that ranged from the noble to the nonsensical. Finally, the name “Tokyo Manji Gang” eventually emerged, settling into the conversation as though it had always been there, patiently waiting for everyone to catch up.

With the final decision cemented, they felt a shift in the air, a quiet sense of completion. This was it: their name, their bond, their family. And in keeping with tradition—although none of them could recall which tradition, exactly—they agreed they needed something tangible to mark the occasion.

Their pockets pooled what coins they could scrounge up, and the group soon found themselves staring at a row of omamori charms, each inscribed with blessings for the usual assortment of things one hoped to keep safe: health, fortune, love, and—in a strange twist of fate—traffic safety.

Baji held the omamori, turning it over thoughtfully in his hands. The protective charm dangled from its cord, the fabric embroidered with kanji in careful, reverent stitching.

It was a small thing, yet it carried something much larger—the hopes and promises that words couldn’t quite capture. To anyone else, it might have seemed silly, just a small token bought by a bunch of kids with big dreams. But to them, it was a pact.

Draken clapped a hand on Baji’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “The one who started this should hold onto it,” he said quietly, his voice holding that rare depth he reserved for moments that mattered.

Baji tucked the charm carefully into his pocket, safeguarding something sacred. As they left the shrine, he turned to Mikey, a look of determination etched on his face. “We’ll give you all we’ve got. Make the new age of delinquents for us.”

“Sure,” Mikey answered with a grin. “But what kind of gang do you want?”

Baji thought for a moment, something fierce and unshakeable forming in his gaze. “All for one, and one for all. We put our lives on the line for each other. That's the kind of gang I want.”

Hikari’s heart tightened, his words resonating through her. This was Keisuke at his truest—fierce and all-in, pledging himself with a conviction that felt almost like a binding spell. And she knew, then and there, that she’d do the same.

They walked back to their bikes, the exhilarating reality of what they’d started began sinking in. Beside her, Keisuke shot her a sideways grin, nudging her shoulder.

“You’re really not into the idea of being a captain, huh?” he asked, tone teasing.

Hikari shook her head, letting a smile slip through. “Nope. I just want to be with you.”

He chuckled, giving her a nudge back. “Good. I’d rather have you by my side anyway.”

[monochromaticbeans]

Chapter 8: Too Young To Understand

"They say that we’re too young to understand, they don’t know how it feels…"

“Young and Beautiful" ~ Lana Del Rey

An unwatched late-night variety show flickered on the TV screen in the small but cozy Todawa family apartment. Rachel sat on the couch, flipping through a magazine, her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. Masaru was at the kitchen counter, washing the last of the dishes, the sound of water running blending into the comfortable quiet of the evening.

A hard thump rattled the pictures on the walls, followed by a burst of muffled laughter from two kids in Hikari’s bedroom.

Rachel peered down the hallway and sighed, though it was the sort of sigh that had less to do with frustration and more to do with resignation. “Keisuke’s here again,” she said, as if this were surprising in the same way that the sun rising in the east every morning might be.

Masaru chuckled, drying his hands on a dishtowel before turning to face her. “Of course he is. Either he’s here or she’s over there. That’s how it works. Like pigeons returning to roost, except they’re louder and less concerned with leaving a mess behind.”

She nodded, folding the top corner of the page and setting the magazine on the coffee table. “You’d think they’d just use the front door instead of sneaking out through the window all the time.” She laughed softly, shaking her head in amusement.

He raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter. “You’re still fine with them sharing a bed, though?” He spoke cautiously, like a man navigating a conversation with invisible tripwires. “They’re kids now, sure, but kids don’t stay kids forever.”

She sighed again, leaning back into the couch, the expression on her face that of someone being presented with an age-old dilemma and the same old solutions. “I know. But they’re inseparable. They’re just best friends. It's sweet.”

He folded his arms, remembering his own teenage years and the sudden shifts that happen at that age. “Yeah, it’s sweet now because they’re only twelve. But they’re getting older. You and I both know how things can… change.”

She nodded, her expression turning thoughtful as Masaru crossed the living room and settled onto the couch beside her. “True. But if we start banning things, especially things they see as harmless, we’ll just make it worse. You know how Hikari is when you tell her she can’t do something.”

He laughed, playfully nudging Rachel’s reading glasses up on her face with his finger. “Oh, she gets that from you, Rei-chan.”

She shot him a look over her glasses, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Did you or did you not sneak out every other night as a teenager to go ‘study’ at the arcade with your best friend? Hikari’s practically a carbon copy of you.”

He grinned, unable to argue the point but unwilling to admit defeat. “Fine. She gets some of it from me. But you’re giving her the talk if things start to… shift.”

Rachel’s laugh filled the room, soft and warm. “Of course. Because that’s not at all your job as the concerned father, is it?”

“It absolutely isn’t,” Masaru replied, a man with firm boundaries when it came to certain terrifying parental responsibilities.

As the couple fell into a comfortable silence, the flickering light of the late-night show played across the room, accompanied by the occasional thump from Hikari’s room. Masaru listened to it with the wary optimism of a man who knew that the peace would hold—for now.

After all, raising a child was a bit like standing at the edge of a river, knowing full well that someday, the water would rise and the current would become unmanageable. But for the time being, you learned to trust the banks, however fragile they might seem.

“You’re a better parent than you give yourself credit for,” Rachel murmured, her head resting on his shoulder.

Masaru didn’t reply, but his hand found hers, and he gave it a gentle squeeze.

Somewhere in the next room, the laughter of two inseparable friends echoed again. Rachel smiled to herself. There was plenty of time to worry about rivers and currents. For now, all that mattered was the laughter.

[monochromaticbeans]

Chapter 7: Hanabi

(1k words)

Sparkling, flickering, releasing blue dreams

Like burning flowers.

“Hanabi” ~ Ikimonogakari (Eng. translation)

The sounds of the summer festival rose around them—a symphony of laughter, bells, and the clatter of game booths. The warm breeze carried scents in rich layers: sweet cotton candy, smoky yakitori, and the faint perfume of summer flowers. Lanterns swayed gently overhead, creating a warm, golden light that danced across the milling crowd of festival-goers.

Hikari adjusted the obi of her blue, floral-print yukata, fingers smoothing over the soft, delicate fabric, trying not to feel so self-conscious. She wasn’t used to wearing something like this, and the yukata made her feel like a completely different person. Earlier, Keisuke teased her about how he almost didn’t recognize her, all dressed up like that. She rolled her eyes, but his words lingered, sitting warm and quiet in her chest.

Ahead of her, the group plowed through the crowd like a miniature stampede. Mikey darted from stall to stall, wide-eyed with an enthusiasm he seemed to keep in his back pocket for occasions like this. “Come on! Let’s check out the shooting game!” he called out. His voice carried above the crowd as if the mere idea of missing it would be a cosmic tragedy.

Draken followed, offering a dry chuckle. “You just want another prize for your growing collection,” he said, with the resigned air of someone who knew he’d end up being the one carrying all of it around for the rest of the night.

Keisuke, hands stuffed into his pockets with a lazy grin, turned to Hikari. “You in?”

She nodded, ready to follow, but just as they started walking, something caught her eye—a small stand tucked between two stalls, selling charms that shimmered under the lanterns like treasures plucked straight from a storybook. She stopped in her tracks, gaze fixed on the tiny trinkets, each one seeming to carry the quiet promise of unearthly powers.

“Hang on a second,” she called after the group. But her voice was swallowed up by the festival. Completely absorbed, she drifted toward the charms, not noticing her friends melt into the crowd.

Meanwhile, Keisuke noticed the empty space beside him, and turned around to find her. His eyes scanned the sea of people until they landed on her, standing transfixed at the vendor’s stall, as though the little charms had whispered something only she could hear. He navigated back through the crowd with ease, with an amused smirk on his face. “Oi, Hikari! What’s up?”

“Sorry,” she said, smiling sheepishly as she turned back to him. “Went on a side quest.”

“It’s fine,” he said with a chuckle and a light shrug. “We’ll catch up with the others. They’re not leaving without us.”

Then, with a crack and a sudden burst of light, the sky above them erupted. Fireworks bloomed into brilliant colors—first red, then gold, then a shimmering cascade of green—illuminating the night as if the stars themselves decided to come a little closer. Hikari flinched, her hands flew up to cover her ears and her heart stuttered in her chest. But as she looked up, her startlement melted away, replaced by wide-eyed wonder as the colors painted themselves across the darkness.

Keisuke stood beside her, his eyes not on the sky, but on her. As the fireworks bathed her face in reds and golds, he felt something shift inside him, something quiet and unfamiliar. He’d always liked being around her, but tonight felt… a little different. Shaking his head, he shoved the thought aside, chalking it up to the magic of the festival.

“This is so pretty,” Hikari murmured, her gaze transfixed on the sky, lost in the wonder of the moment.

“Yeah,” he replied, though his eyes kept lingering on her far more than on the lights above. In that moment, the festival crowd around them faded away, and it was just the two of them, standing alone under a sky raining down sparks like falling stars.

Another burst of light filled the sky, even brighter this time, casting the whole festival in a wash of shimmering blues and greens. Hikari smiled softly as a thought occurred to her. Something so obvious and natural that the words easily slipped from her lips. “When we grow up, I’m going to marry you.”

“Huh?” Keisuke blinked, jolted out of his thoughts. He turned to her, eyebrows raised in surprise. “What’d you just say?”

She didn’t miss a beat. Her eyes were still fixed skyward, fascinated by the colors dancing across the night. “I said I’m going to marry you when we grow up,” she repeated with the same casual confidence.

He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief as his mouth curved into a grin. “Alright, whatever you say.” To him, it was just another one of her unexpected, offbeat comments, the kind that always caught him off guard—half-serious, half-teasing, and completely Hikari. It reminded him of the time she told him she carried her guitar around because it made her look cool. He never questioned it; it was just her way.

But to her, it was just the simple truth. She saw the future as something solid, like stones laid out in a row, clear and steady beneath her feet. She said what she wanted to say, and for her, that was enough. She didn’t need to explain it; she’d already decided, and her heart was as sure as her words.

The last burst of fireworks soared, blossoming into a shimmering waterfall that rained down over the festival in a shower of liquid gold and silver as the crowd erupted in applause. Hikari glanced over at Keisuke and when his gaze met hers, her heart skipped a beat—she quickly looked away, tucking the moment into her chest like a precious secret.

Keisuke bumped her shoulder, breaking the silence with his usual, easy grin. “Come on, let’s find the others before Mikey eats all the food.”

She laughed, light and unburdened, her earlier words already nestled safely away. Together, they moved back through the crowd, and the warmth of the evening wrapped around them like a soft promise of everything yet to come.

[monochromaticbeans]

Chapter 6: You Say It Best

(1.9k words)

You say it best when you say nothing at all.

"When You Say Nothing at All" ~ Alison Krauss

Hikari sat cross-legged on her bed, wearing another one of Keisuke’s shirts—a shirt she hadn't so much stolen as taken on a permanent loan system, minus all the boring paperwork. The guitar resting on her lap looked as natural there as a teacup in a saucer or a cat on a windowsill.

Keisuke, for his part, always noticed when one of his shirts mysteriously sprouted legs and hopped over to Hikari's room. Secretly, he liked seeing her in them, but that wasn’t the sort of thing you could admit to someone who already had the audacity to raid your wardrobe.

“You’ve got a closet full of clothes,” he’d teased her once, “so why the hell do you keep taking mine?”

Her answer had been simple. “I like yours.”

And that was that.

At the moment, her fingers were coaxing out the notes of “Here Comes the Sun” in a way that might have made George Harrison smile, had he been there. A breeze drifted through the half-open window, carrying in the smells of early spring and the faint, undefinable scent of trouble.

Her fingers stumbled over a chord, resulting in a pitiful twang that offended her more deeply than she cared to admit. “Dammit…” She frowned, tilting the fretboard and glaring at it, daring it to misbehave again.

“Seriously?” a voice called from the window, slicing through the music with a teasing lilt.

Hikari looked up sharply. There, leaning casually against her windowsill, was Keisuke, who had perfected the art of arriving silently, like a cat—if cats had hair long enough to fall into their face and an irrepressible grin suggesting they were only pretending to be up to no good.

“You’re playing an old song like that?” he teased, an eyebrow raised.

Hikari narrowed her eyes, fingers resuming their dance over the strings. “What’s wrong with The Beatles?” she shot back.

“Nothing, I guess. Just didn’t peg you for the ancient music type.”

“Ancient?” She snorted, giving him a playful glare. “Everybody likes The Beatles. If you don’t, you can take your happy little ass back to your own room.”

He laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I didn’t say I hated it. Just thought you’d be playing something cooler.”

“‘Here Comes the Sun’ is cool,” she said with mock haughtiness, fingers strumming confidently now. “Bet you couldn’t even handle learning it.”

“Oh, really?” His grin widened, eyes gleaming with a challenge. “I bet I could learn that in five minutes if I wanted to.”

“Okay then, smarty pants,” she said, holding the guitar out to him with a raised eyebrow, daring him to take it. “Let’s hear it.”

For a long moment, he just looked at the guitar as though it had morphed into a wild animal—one he was supposed to wrangle without the necessary training. He held it gingerly, hovering his fingers over the strings like he might accidentally conjure the spirits of rock legends.

“So, uh... how do I play it?” he asked.

Hikari leaned back, crossing her arms with a smug smile, her victory all but assured. “You said you could learn it in five minutes,” she teased, her eyes gleaming. “I’m not helping you. Clock’s ticking.”

The look on his face was priceless, a mix of panic and defiance as he plucked a single string, which responded with a truly unfortunate note. A seasick cow would have sounded more harmonious. With an exaggerated sigh, he thrust the guitar back at her, confidence restored by the act of surrender.

“Nah, I don’t have the patience for this. It’s all you.”

“Good call,” Hikari said, a smirk forming on her lips as she took the guitar back, her fingers picking up the melody again, the tune winding out like a ribbon in the air between them. “Patience doesn’t exactly suit you.”

“Shut up,” he scoffed, though the playful grin on his face never wavered. His eyes followed her hands, watching the way her fingers moved effortlessly over the fretboard, the ease with which she coaxed the melody from the strings. There was something hypnotic about it, almost like magic, though he’d rather have been struck by lightning than admit that out loud. And it wasn’t just skill; it was her heart, too, the way she lived through the music.

An idea sparked in his mind, bright and almost unnervingly clear. His mind was already running with it. “I gotta... I have to go check on something,” he said, his voice overly casual, although something mischievous and secret bloomed in his chest.

And before she could press him further, he vanished from the window in a flurry of mystery and a faint hint of mischief, like a ghost with a purpose, if ghosts were in the habit of plotting things for White Day.

Hikari stared at the now-empty window, head tilted as she contemplated the fleeting shadow of Keisuke, then shrugged, her lips curling into a faint smile as she returned to her guitar. Some mysteries were best left until they had the time to unfold, like an old, unlabeled vinyl waiting for the needle to hit the groove.

As her fingers found the chords once again, the melody rose, filling her room with the sound. She could almost hear Keisuke’s laughter woven into it, light and irrepressible, a note all its own—an echo of something she’d come to realize she’d always want to hear.

—

“Aw, they forgot my flag again,” Mikey sighed, staring down at his plate of omurice as though it had personally betrayed him. The absence of the tiny paper decoration—a toothpick with delusions of grandeur—was clearly a matter of great emotional weight. He poked at the food with his chopsticks, having been served a tragedy instead of a meal.

Draken, who’d long since developed the instincts of someone dealing with a picky child, or even a very finicky cat, sighed and reached into his jacket pocket. Without looking, he pulled out a small, neatly folded paper flag and stuck it into Mikey’s plate with the air of a man solving a problem he hadn’t created but had been forced to fix more times than he could count.

“Better?” he asked, not bothering to mask the resigned affection in his voice.

Mikey’s face lit up instantly, as if the entire universe had been restored to its proper alignment by this singular act of flag placement. “Much better!” he chirped, his joy so radiant it bordered on ridiculous.

Across the table, Hikari chuckled softly, her eyes meeting Keisuke’s in a shared moment of amusement. These little quirks—like Mikey’s obsession with paper flags and Draken’s unofficial title as Keeper of the Peace—were what made their group feel less like friends and more like family. A slightly dysfunctional one, perhaps, but one where every piece fit in its own strange, irreplaceable way.

The restaurant hummed around them, the warm light mingling with the scent of food and coffee, the occasional clink of plates adding to the soft chatter. It was one of those rare moments where time seemed to stretch, as though even the universe had decided this was worth lingering on.

Draken reached into his jacket again, this time pulling out a small, neatly wrapped package. He slid it across the table to Hikari with a casual nod. “For White Day,” he said, his tone practical but the gesture unmistakably thoughtful.

Hikari smiled as she accepted it, peeling back the wrapping to reveal an assortment of white chocolates nestled inside. Draken’s gift was exactly what she’d expected from him—straightforward, dependable, and quietly kind.

Then Haru leaned in, a familiar glint of mischief sparking in his eyes as he tossed her a crinkly bag. “Don’t say I never got you anything,” he said, his grin already halfway to trouble.

Hikari eyed the bag with all the wariness of someone handed a parcel with a ticking clock. Experience taught her that nothing from Haruchiyo’s hands came without… creative interpretation. She peeled the bag open cautiously, as though a spring-loaded snake might leap out at her.

What she found inside was arguably worse.

“Exploding Wasabi Candy?” she read aloud, squinting at the ominously green package.

Haru’s grin widened. “Good for the sinuses,” he said, entirely unrepentant.

“Oh, yeah, because candy that punches you in the face is exactly what everyone needs,” she replied dryly, rummaging further. She pulled out a package of soy sauce-flavored KitKats and held it up between two fingers, eyebrows raised. “Soy sauce? Really?”

“It’s the future of candy,” he said solemnly, as though announcing an innovation on par with sliced bread.

She snorted, shaking her head. But beneath the gag gifts, she unearthed her favorite strawberry Pocky and watermelon Hi-Chews. She shot him a look—half exasperated, half amused. “So, there actually is some real candy in here.”

He shrugged, leaning back with a smug grin. “I’m not completely heartless.”

“No, just mostly,” she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

The others chimed in with their own offerings—Mikey with a box of chocolates suspiciously missing an entire row (“The thought counts more than the chocolate,” he claimed), and Keisuke, who’d been conspicuously quiet, finally sliding a small tin toward her.

“White Day gift,” he muttered, his voice gruff, though the faintest flicker of something softer hid behind the words.

Hikari’s curiosity flared as she opened the tin. Inside were black guitar picks, each one engraved with her name in delicate silver kanji. She paused, her breath catching as she turned one over between her fingers.

“These are… really cool,” she said softly, her surprise threading through her voice. “Did you have these made?”

Keisuke shrugged, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets like he was trying to physically shove away the weight of her gratitude. “Yeah. Figured you could use ‘em.” He hesitated, glancing at her hands before adding, “Can’t have you running out, right?”

Her smile widened, the warmth spreading through her chest like the first notes of a favorite song. “I love them,” she said, her voice quiet but steady. “Thank you.”

Draken teased, leaning back with a smirk. “Damn, Baji. You’re making the rest of us look bad.”

Baji rolled his eyes, muttering something about it being “just some damn picks,” though the faint blush creeping up his neck gave him away.

“Oh, please,” Haru drawled, his grin practically feral. “Next thing you know, he’ll be serenading her.”

Baji shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel, but one look at Hikari’s smile softened the edges. Let them tease, he thought. It didn’t matter. Not when she liked it.

“Thanks again, Keisuke,” she said, tucking the tin carefully into her bag. Her voice carried a warmth that cut through the noise, anchoring the moment between them. “I really, really love them.”

His lips quirked into a lopsided smile, his gaze meeting hers briefly before he looked away. “Yeah… you’re welcome.”

For a moment, the world seemed to shrink around them. The noise of the restaurant faded into the background, leaving only the quiet weight of something unspoken but deeply understood.

“All right, all right,” Draken said, breaking the moment with a wave of his hand. “Let’s eat before Mikey steals everything.”

Mikey, happily munching his omurice, was already halfway there.

[monochromaticbeans]

Chapter 5: I Can Hear Your Heartbeat

(very short, 600 words)

And in the dark,

I can hear your heartbeat.

“Cosmic Love” ~ Florence + The Machine

Hikari jolted awake, her breath hitching as her eyes snapped open. This was the kind of waking where the world felt slightly tilted, like someone bumped reality with their elbow and forgot to straighten it.

Her heart was attempting to escape her chest, hammering against her ribs like an overly enthusiastic marching band. The nightmare itself was already slipping away, like shadows retreating from the path of a flashlight. All that remained was the dread, as heavy and as clingy as wet wool socks.

She pressed a hand over her heart, willing it to slow down. It refused, clearly in the middle of its audition for the percussion section. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she caught flashes of blood, dark and sticky, as vivid as a bad painting.

Maybe it’s better if I don’t remember it, she thought, shuddering as she sat up. She glanced at the clock—2:21 a.m.

I’m not getting back to sleep.

She sighed, tossing her blanket aside with the kind of finality usually reserved for quitting a bad job. There was only one place where nightmares didn’t dare to follow her.

The window slid open with a whisper of cool night air, a ghost of a breeze brushing her skin. She stepped onto the narrow ledge, the height making her stomach twist unpleasantly, reminding her how much it liked being on solid ground.

Don’t look down. It wasn’t really advice; it was more like a mantra, a futile attempt to convince herself not to think about what she was absolutely already thinking about. So she turned her focus, instead, to the window next door—the one belonging to him. Taking a careful step across the gap, she crouched down and eased his window open.

“Keisuke,” she whispered, her hand gently patting his shoulder.

The lump under the blankets shifted. He blinked, groggy and confused. “Hmm?”

“Keisuke.” Her voice was soft, threaded with a tremor she couldn’t quite shake.

He squinted at her, the haze of sleep grudgingly giving way to concern. “Hikari?” he mumbled, his voice rough and slightly incredulous. “The hell’s goin’ on?”

“I had a bad dream.”

“Another one, huh?” Without a second thought, he lifted the edge of his blanket and scooted over. “C’mere. You’re alright. I’ve got you.”

She crawled in beside him, the warmth of the bed wrapping around her, his arm slung over her shoulder with the sort of casual protectiveness that said, Everything's fine now. She didn’t know when exactly this became her sanctuary; she only knew that it had, and that this was where she went when the world decided to be unreasonable.

Keisuke’s hand brushed over her hair and the knot of fear in her chest began to unwind, slinking away like a scolded dog. She focused on the rhythm of his breathing—steady, unhurried, and reassuring, like a lighthouse cutting through the fog.

Gradually, her eyelids grew heavy. The open window let in the cool night air, which might have been a problem anywhere else, but here, curled up in the warmth of Keisuke’s bed, it was a small reminder that the world outside couldn’t reach her.

As she drifted off, one thought lingered in her mind, quiet but sure: This is safe. This is home.

Keisuke, now halfway back to sleep, muttered something unintelligible but vaguely comforting, his hand still resting in her hair. He was good at that—being reassuring without even trying.

And as the night carried on, the world outside went on being ridiculous and terrifying and way too big, but in this little pocket of warmth and stillness, none of it mattered.

[monochromaticbeans]

Chapter 4: Don't Stop Me Now

(1.1k words)

Don’t stop me now, I’m having such a good time!

“Don’t Stop Me Now" ~ Queen

The school gymnasium was, in Hikari’s opinion, trying way too hard. It oozed cheesiness in the way only a school dance could, where romance was delivered with all the subtle nuance of a bear riding a unicycle underneath a fireworks display. The balloons tethered to the ceiling swayed half-heartedly, as if they’d been unwillingly roped into the whole thing. Red, white, and pink glittery decorations coated every surface like there was an explosion in a greeting card factory, while paper hearts clung to the walls, glued there by middle-aged teachers with cheap tape.

She surveyed the scene with a half-smile. The whole thing was wonderfully ridiculous. It was the kind of absurdity that felt suspended between reality and a dream, with both firmly disagreeing about whose territory this was. She plucked a strawberry from her plate and popped it into her mouth. The sweetness was comforting, as though the strawberry had decided to quietly apologize for the glitter overload.

“At least there’s food, huh?” Keisuke’s voice broke through her musings. His gaze lingered on her plate, stacked precariously with sweets in what she insisted was a sensible amount.

“Yeah,” she mumbled through another bite, her eyes scanning the crowd. The noise, the decorations, the cheesy atmosphere—it all felt like a strange performance, like they were all pretending to be something they weren’t. And then, she saw her.

Naomi stood by the double doors, sulking like a ghost haunting the gymnasium. Hikari’s eyes met hers for a fleeting moment, and in that instant, there was no mistaking the scowl directed at her, like a sniper taking careful aim. Hikari’s skin prickled with annoyance, but beneath that, a surge of childish glee swirled in her chest. That’s right, she thought, I’m here with him, and you’re not.

She turned to Keisuke, keeping her back to Naomi, and lowered her voice. “Don’t look now, but a certain someone is giving me the stink-eye.”

“Oh, really?” he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. He didn’t need names. He already knew. “Forget about her. She’s just a brat anyway.”

The words hung between them like a secret, a shared truth that only they knew. Hikari stifled a snicker, feeling the satisfying delight of her small victory—the kind of joy that came from winning a game you didn’t even know you were playing. She reached for a mochi, and in her enthusiasm, she shoved the entire thing into her mouth at once, immediately regretting it. The sticky dough clung to her teeth and her cheeks puffed out like a squirrel hoarding nuts for winter.

Keisuke burst out laughing, his finger immediately jabbing at her overstuffed cheeks. “You look like a chipmunk!”

She swatted his hands away, her narrowed eyes attempting to convey righteous indignation, which was difficult when she couldn’t actually form words. She tried anyway. “Mmmff mmm mmff—”

“What was that?” He leaned in, cupping his hand behind his ear, his grin widening. “Sorry, I can’t understand you.”

Her eyes narrowed further, and with great dramatic flair, she raised one finger to her lips, then pointed decisively at her backside. The meaning was crystal clear.

“Oh, I get it,” he said, laughing loudly. “Kiss your ass, huh?”

She nodded furiously, still chewing, her indignation now tinged with triumph. Finally, she managed to wrestle the mochi into submission just enough to speak. “Yeah. Kiss my ass. On the left cheek.”

With a theatrical flourish, Keisuke kissed his fingertips and tapped them gently against her cheek. The one on her face. “There. Done.”

Hikari gasped in mock outrage, clutching an imaginary pearl necklace as if she’d been deeply and terribly wronged. “You absolute swine!” she cried, though her laughter betrayed her act. “How dare you?”

“Who’re you calling a swine, Chipmunk?” He leaned closer again, his grin softening just slightly, turning conspiratorial. For a moment, the noise and chaos of the gym melted away, leaving just the two of them.

Hikari’s heart did an infuriating little flip. It had been doing that more often lately, and she didn’t quite know what to do about it.

But, as usual, she covered it with a laugh. “Fine, then. Be that way.” She crossed her arms, again, a mock pout forming on her lips. “Now you won't get your Valentine’s chocolate.”

His eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. “You got chocolate for me?”

“Yeah,” she grinned, enjoying her moment of power. “But, I’m gonna keep it. I’ll give Mikey, Haru, and Draken theirs, and poor little Keisuke gets nothing.”

“Now wait just a damn minute,” he stifled his laughter, trying and failing to look serious. “Don’t hold my chocolate hostage. That’s taking it too far.”

She raised an eyebrow, relishing her newfound leverage. “Then quit calling me a chipmunk, and you’ll get your candy.”

He groaned in exaggerated defeat, his shoulders slumping as though the weight of her demand was far too much to bear. “Fine…”

She laughed, her heart light, and handed him a frosted cookie from her plate. “Good boy.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was a warmth in his smile that lingered. It was in the shared glances and in the way they fell so easily into their rhythm—like they had always been, and always would be.

As they settled into a comfortable silence, the soft strains of a familiar, haunting melody floated through the air. Hikari’s face lit up in recognition. “There was totally room on that piece of wood for Jack.”

“Huh?” he blinked in confusion, his brows furrowing.

“The song,” she gestured to the speakers, as if it explained everything. “From Titanic. Jack should’ve lived and you can't convince me otherwise.”

Keisuke's laughter was soft, his smile lingering. “You would like that mushy stuff.”

“So what if I do?” she shot back, completely unashamed. “There’s nothing wrong with mushy stuff.” As the first chorus swelled, she began to sing along, her voice quiet but full of emotion. She sat her plate down, freeing up her hands to move and reflect the lyrics. “Near, far, wherever you are…”

She wasn’t just singing the song; she was living it, and soon, her small gestures became larger and more dramatic. “Love can touch us one time and last for a lifetime…”

For the crescendo near the end, she dragged out a chair and stepped up onto it, spreading her arms wide in full dramatic glory as she sang at the top of her voice, drawing laughter and cheers from nearby students.

“You’re here, there’s nothing I fear…”

The entire gym shifted, the awkwardness melting away as more students joined in, swaying and singing along, caught in the joyful absurdity of the moment.

Keisuke couldn’t help but smile—really smile. There was something about her, the way she made the whole room light up with her silly antics, her fearlessness. And in that moment, standing there in the midst of a cheesy school dance, he felt something warm spread through his chest. 

There was no one else quite like her.

And he hoped there never would be.

[monochromaticbeans]

Chapter 3: Jealousy, Jealousy

(3.3k words)

All I see is what I should be

Happier, prettier, jealousy, jealousy.

“Jealousy, Jealousy” ~ Olivia Rodrigo 

Hikari lathered her hands with the almond-scented soap in the washroom, the familiar fragrance curling up from the sink and winding around her thoughts like a half-remembered dream. The same soap sat by the sink at her grandmother’s house, and with each scrub came a brief, comfortable nostalgia that almost—but not quite—replaced the day’s small aggravations. Someone breathing too loudly in class, the flickering fluorescent lights in the lunchroom, her sock bunching inside her shoe… little things that refused to stay in the background, as if each small irritation was cosmically designed to disrupt her day.

She scrubbed her hands with a bit more force than necessary, as if sheer determination and soap might rinse away the echoes of a day that was, quite frankly, too noisy and annoying.

But peace, as she was learning, rarely lasted long.

The door creaked open, and Naomi entered, gliding into the room like she’d been sent by some higher power to remind everyone that perfection did exist in human form. Her hair fell in glossy waves over her shoulders, her skin glowed like she’d bathed in pearls and moonlight, and her smile? That smile had the subtle force of a billboard. It was the kind of smile you could use as a weapon. Which she absolutely did.

“Good morning, Todawa-san,” Naomi said, her voice smooth and sweet, like honey. Even in the stark white light of the washroom, she looked almost angelic—albeit an angel who offered a bright smile while banishing you to the pits of hell.

Hikari’s fingers tensed under the running water. She forced herself to return the greeting, but her smile was about as fresh and genuine as the yogurt she’d found in the back of the fridge with a sell-by date from last year. “Good morning,” she said evenly, drying her hands with a bit more focus than drying hands typically required.

“You’re friends with Baji-san, aren’t you?”

The question hung in the air, light and casual on the surface, but threaded with a certain something that made Hikari’s fingers slow as they scrunched the paper towel. It was the kind of question that made you feel like a trapdoor had just appeared beneath your feet.

“Yeah. Why?” Hikari didn’t look at her, keeping her tone carefully neutral.

The temperature of the room seemed to dip, as Naomi’s smile radiated the faint chill of well-practiced detachment.

“Do you know if he has a date for the Valentine’s dance yet?” Naomi asked, leaning in ever so slightly, her eyes sparking with the self-assurance of someone who had never once entertained the possibility of failure.

The question hit Hikari harder than she anticipated, her insides stirring with a strange and unexpected surge of jealousy. She hadn’t realized how much she cared, until right now. She gripped the paper towel in her hand and imagined, just for a moment, that it was Naomi’s perfect little neck.

Stupid Naomi, with her flawless smile, her magazine-cover hair. Of course she would want to go with Keisuke. Why wouldn’t she? She could have anyone she wanted, and she knew it.

“Well?” Naomi prompted, her voice sticky with artificial sweetness.

Hikari’s voice was steady, though every cell in her body buzzed with barely restrained irritation. “Why do you want to know?”

Naomi’s smile brightened, but something flickered in her eyes, something darker that passed like a shadow. “Because I want to go with him.”

The words fell between them, heavy as wet cement, and Hikari’s hand clenched just a bit tighter before she tossed the wadded-up paper towel into the trash. She turned to face Naomi, who continued to smile with the kind of relentless polish that usually required a team of publicists and a year’s supply of expensive teeth-whitening products.

“You want to go with him?” Hikari said, her tone low and perfectly controlled, each word dripping with a quiet sort of anger. “What makes you think he’d want to do that?”

For a moment—a brief, almost magical moment—Naomi’s composure slipped, and Hikari saw something that looked a lot like surprise flicker across her face. A small crack appeared in the polished facade Naomi wrapped herself in, and even though it was gone in an instant, it was there. Hikari felt a strange satisfaction.

The flicker disappeared, and Naomi’s smile grew cool. “Could you please just tell me, Todawa-san?” Her tone was polite but carried a thin undercurrent of irritation, as if Hikari had missed some memo regarding Naomi’s right to be endlessly charming without interruption.

Hikari took a step forward, closing the space between them, her heart pounding. “Yeah,” she said, her voice like the polished edge of a knife. “I'll tell you.” She leaned in slightly, her words almost a whisper but sharp enough to cut. “I’ll tell you to fuck off, grow a pair, and ask him yourself.”

With that, she turned on her heel and marched out of the washroom without looking back. She didn’t need to see Naomi’s expression to know it—slack-jawed, speechless, the tiniest chip taken out of that perfect armor. It was all Hikari needed to know she’d won this round.

The door clicked shut behind her, and though jealousy simmered beneath her satisfaction, she felt a fierce sense of victory settle over her. This wasn’t over, she could feel it, like the distant roll of thunder before a storm. But for now, she was more than ready for the next round.

---

Jealousy is a strange thing. It has a way of sticking to you like a burr, and is just as hard to shake off without leaving a mark. That afternoon, as Hikari trudged home alongside Keisuke, it clung to her with all the persistence of a determined barnacle. Her fists were stuffed deep into her coat pockets, her head bowed as though sheer force of will could walk her annoyance straight out of existence.

But the human brain is an inconvenient thing. The more she tried not to think about Naomi’s stupid, perfect smile, the more Naomi’s stupid, perfect smile twirled through her mind like a smug ballerina.

“What’s eating you?” he asked, glancing at her with the wary curiosity of someone who’d just spotted a fuse sizzling toward an explosive but wasn’t sure how long it had left. The last time she looked this wound-up, she’d snapped a guitar string and declared it the end of the world until a new one arrived two days later.

“Huh?” She blinked, pulled from her thoughts. “Oh... Nothing. Just that damn Naomi,” she muttered, in a way that strongly implied it was definitely not nothing.

“Naomi?” He tilted his head, eyebrows raising. “What’d she do?”

Hikari huffed, swiping at her bangs as the wind pushed them into her face like nature itself was trying to make her mood worse. “She asked me if you had a date for the dance.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” Hikari grumbled, her voice dripping with the kind of dry disdain normally reserved for overcooked noodles. “She asked me. Like I’m some kind of secretary.”

He stared at her in disbelief, then a slow grin spread across his face. The idea of Naomi asking about him struck him as the pinnacle of comedy. “What’d you tell her?”

Her gaze narrowed, her tone dry as desert sand. “I told her to fuck off, grow a pair, and ask you herself.”

There was a moment of silence as he processed this, and then he burst out laughing. It wasn’t just a chuckle—it was the full-bodied, shoulder-shaking kind of laughter that left him gasping for air.

“You really said that?” he wheezed, wiping at his eyes.

“Yes, I did,” she grumbled, shooting him a look that could curdle milk. “Glad you find it entertaining.”

“Oh, I do,” he said, doubling over with another laugh. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all week!”

“Happy to brighten your day,” she grumbled, marching ahead with the determination of someone planning to register a formal complaint against the universe.

But as his laughter faded, his sharp instincts kicked in. He caught up to her, tilting his head like a particularly shrewd crow. “Hold on… you’re actually mad about this, aren’t you?”

“I’m not mad,” she replied in a tone that people use when they are very clearly mad. “It’s just… annoying that she couldn’t ask you herself.”

His grin returned, slow and wolfish. “Oh, I get it now,” he said, dragging the words out with the kind of insufferable glee that only best friends can truly master. “You wanna go to the dance, don’t you?”

She stopped dead in her tracks, whipping her head around so fast she might have sprained something. “What? No!”

“Uh-huh. Sure,” he said, his grin widening. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

“I’d rather eat dirt than go to some ridiculous dance,” she shot back, but even to her own ears, it sounded unconvincing.

“Right,” Keisuke drawled, clearly enjoying himself far too much. He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “So what if I said I wanted to go?”

The words hit her like a sucker punch. She froze mid-step, her mind scrambling for a coherent response. “You’re joking.”

“Nope,” he said, now thoroughly pleased with himself. “And I’m dragging you with me.”

“You’re an idiot,” she muttered, turning away to hide the telltale warmth creeping up her face.

“Maybe,” he replied with a shrug, still grinning like he’d won some invisible prize. “But at least I won’t be an idiot sitting at home alone pouting.”

She tried to scoff, but it sounded suspiciously like a weak laugh. Being around him had this infuriating way of untying all the knots inside her, no matter how tightly they’d been wound. “You’re such an ass.”

“Then that settles it. We’re going to the dance,” he said, slinging an arm around her shoulders with the casual ease of someone who’d just solved all the world’s problems.

She sighed dramatically, but a faint smile crept across her face. “Fine. But only because I’d rather go with an idiot than let Naomi have the satisfaction.”

---

“Mom! Moooom!”

Keisuke burst into the kitchen with all the grace of a runaway train. His socks slid across the smooth floor and nearly sent him skidding into the counter. His voice echoed through the hallway, as though the entire world might come crashing down if his mother didn’t appear right that second.

Ryoko, in the middle of wiping her hands on a dish towel, blinked at him in mild confusion. Her brow arched as she took in her son’s slightly wild-eyed expression. “What’s with the yelling, Keisuke? You sound like the apartment’s on fire.”

He stopped in his tracks, slightly breathless, rubbing the back of his neck in that awkward way when he was about to ask for something big but hadn’t quite figured out how. His usual bravado faltered—his fingers fidgeting at his side, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“I need help,” he blurted, almost too quickly. Then, his voice dropped, quieter now, like the words tasted foreign on his tongue. “With… uh, dancing. You know. With a girl.”

Ryoko stared at him, the silence stretching just long enough for him to regret his entire existence. Then, slowly, the realization dawned on her face—a small, almost teasing smile creeping up as her eyes softened in amusement. “Oh,” she said, drawing out the word with unmistakable delight. “I see.”

His entire face flushed like a match had struck the inside of his skull. His scowl deepened, his eyes narrowing in that fierce way when he knew he was being teased. “Don’t look at me like that,” he grumbled, crossing his arms defensively across his chest, though the tips of his ears were already turning a dangerous shade of red. “I just… I don’t wanna look like an idiot, okay?”

She couldn’t hold back the chuckle that slipped past her lips. The sight of her usually reckless, untouchable son—who had no problem getting into fights, leaping between balconies, or causing all sorts of trouble—turning pink at the idea of asking a girl to a dance was just too endearing to ignore. But she knew better than to push him too hard. Not when he was this close to bolting from the room out of sheer embarrassment.

“So,” she said, keeping her voice light but kind, “who’s the lucky girl?”

He tensed slightly, shifting his weight again, eyes darting toward the floor like it suddenly held all the answers to the universe. He mumbled something under his breath, barely audible.

“What was that?” Ryoko asked, leaning in with a playful tilt of her head. “You’ll have to speak up, Keisuke. My ears aren’t what they used to be.”

He huffed, his scowl returning full force. “Hikari,” he muttered, still staring resolutely at the ground.

Her eyes lit up with recognition, and her smile grew wider. “Ah, Hikari,” she said, her voice warm and knowing. “Well, that explains a lot.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he shot back, his tone defensive, though there was no real bite behind it. His cheeks, however, remained a steady shade of pink.

“Oh, nothing,” she said, waving a hand in the air. But her knowing smile remained, and it made his stomach twist in a way that was equal parts annoyance and nervous anticipation. She placed her hands on her hips and looked at him with a softness that only a mother could manage in the face of her son’s adorably awkward fumbling. “So you asked her to the dance?”

“Yeah…” he mumbled, still trying to salvage whatever was left of his pride. “I asked her.”

“And you’ve just realized you don’t know how to dance,” she finished for him, her voice filled with an almost unbearable amount of amusement.

He groaned, dragging his hands down his face in frustration. “I didn’t think it through, okay?” His voice cracked slightly, betraying just how much this was getting to him. “I just—” He dropped his hands and looked at her, a rare moment of vulnerability in his eyes. “I just want her to be happy.”

Ryoko’s teasing smile softened into something more gentle, more understanding. Her heart swelled with affection for her son, who would sooner die than admit how much he actually cared about anything—let alone someone as important as Hikari. “Well,” she said softly, stepping closer and placing a hand on his shoulder, “we’ll make sure you don’t look like an idiot.”

He peered at her, his brow furrowed, suspicion written all over his face. “Promise?”

She smiled, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I promise. Now, come here. I’ll show you the basics.”

Before he could argue, she pulled him toward the center of the kitchen, guiding his hands into place. For a moment, he looked like a deer caught in headlights, awkwardly holding onto his mom with no idea what to do with his limbs.

“Relax,” Ryoko chuckled, taking a step back to guide him into a simple rhythm. “It’s just like fighting, only without the punching. You’re good at that, right?”

He shot her a look, but his mouth twisted into a reluctant grin. “I don’t know. Sometimes the punching helps.”

“Well,” she said, leading him through another step, “no punching this time. Just keep your feet moving, feel the rhythm. Got it?”

After a few more awkward attempts and a lot of his mother's patient guidance, he slowly started to find his footing. His movements were still clumsy, his usual grace in fighting strangely absent on the dance floor—or, in this case, the kitchen floor—but bit by bit, he loosened up. He found himself not hating it as much as he thought he would.

“Well, Keisuke,” she said, crossing her arms with a proud smile, “you might just be ready for that dance.”

He huffed, running a hand through his messy hair. “Yeah, well… I better be.” Then, more quietly, as if talking to himself, he muttered, “Hikari’s counting on me.”

Ryoko’s smile softened, and she watched him for a moment longer, pride and affection swelling in her chest. There was a lot he still had to learn, about himself, about others, and about life. But there was one thing she knew for sure: when it came to Hikari, he was already miles ahead.

Because when he cared, when he really cared, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to make sure the people he loved were happy. Even if it meant learning how to dance.

Meanwhile, Hikari stood in front of her closet, arms crossed, staring at the dress as though sheer force of will could make it burst into flames. Sadly, it remained intact. The dress was the very embodiment of evil, a piece of clothing designed by someone who hated the people forced to wear it. It was pinchy. It was scratchy. It was everything wrong with the universe distilled into one garment.

Her hoodie, though, was a masterpiece of human achievement. It didn’t pinch, scratch, or make any demands. It hugged her like an old friend who never asked awkward questions. “Wear me,” it seemed to whisper from the depths of the closet. “I won’t let you down.”

Unfortunately, this was a dance. And dances, for reasons that made no sense to her, required “looking nice.” Society had strange rules about these things. Jeans and a hoodie, apparently, didn’t qualify as “nice,” no matter how much they felt like home.

With a sigh that carried the weight of a thousand injustices, she grabbed the dress and yanked it off the hanger. It resisted. Of course it did. She pulled it over her head, and immediately, the neckline attacked her collarbone like a grouchy housecat. She fidgeted, tugging at the hem, the sleeves, the seams—any part of the dress that might offer relief. None of it did. In fact, the dress seemed to retaliate, its stitching digging into her skin like it was personally offended by her very existence.

She turned to the mirror, scowling at her reflection. “I look like a soggy burrito,” she muttered.

The dress clung in places it had no business clinging, and the fabric felt like it was woven from barbed wire and disappointment. Her skin crawled. Her soul crawled. She began to wonder if this was what hell really looked like: not fire and brimstone, but an endless fitting room full of dresses just like this one.

As she pulled at the neckline again, her reflection glared back at her with the same level of disdain. “I look like Miyazawa Yukino,” she muttered, thinking of the character who always looked perfect on the outside while secretly hating every minute of it. Hikari wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all herself. “This isn’t impressing anyone. This is torture.”

And yet… she imagined Keisuke. The way he might grin if he saw her in something different, something outside her usual hoodie-clad comfort zone. He’d probably tease her, something about “cleaning up nice,” but his eyes would widen just enough to betray the truth. That he’d notice. That he’d care.

The thought made her shoulders slump in resignation. Damn him and his stupid grin.

“Alright,” she said to her reflection, straightening up as though preparing for battle. “One night. I can survive one night in this stupid-ass dress.”

The mirror, unhelpfully, didn’t respond.

She grabbed her bag, gave the neckline one last defiant tug, and squared her shoulders. It was time to face the music, both literal and metaphorical. After all, if humanity could invent dresses this awful and still make it to the moon, she could survive a few hours of pinchy, scratchy fabric for someone who made her want to try.

Even if the dress still hated her.

[monochromaticbeans]

Chapter 2: I Go Along To Be With You

(2.2k words)

I go along, just because I'm lazy.

I go along to be with you.

"Luna," ~ Smashing Pumpkins

“Hikari! Do you like cats?”

The voice hit her with all the subtlety of a thunderclap. Her pencil shot from her hand and clattered across the floor as her heart leaped straight into her throat. She spun around so fast her chair wobbled, nearly sending her over the edge of the seat. Her pulse drummed wildly in her ears. And there, perched like a stray cat on her open windowsill, was Baji Keisuke, grinning as if he’d done this exact thing a thousand times before.

She glared at him, one hand over her chest as if that would calm her racing heart. “Seriously?!”

He laughed, rich and unapologetic, filling the small room with his wild brand of amusement. It was the kind of laugh that made you wonder if he’d invented chaos himself and kept it in his back pocket. “Good reflexes, though,” he teased, as if making her jump out of her skin was all part of some grand plan.

“Maybe next time try knocking—or, I don’t know, using the door like a normal person?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” He flashed her a grin, the kind that dared the world to try and control him. He didn’t just ignore the rules; he treated them as optional background noise. “Besides, this way was faster. So... do you like cats or not?”

“How did you even get up here? We’re on the fifth freaking floor!”

He shrugged as if the entire concept of heights was a minor inconvenience. “Hopped over from my window. It’s not that far.”

She blinked at him, mouth agape, and glanced out the window to the neighboring narrow balcony that qualified as more of a ledge with a short metal railing. The space looked better suited for squirrels, certainly not a fifth-grader with a disregard for physics. “Keisuke, you could’ve broken your neck!”

He shrugged again, as nonchalant as ever, his grin firmly in place as if gravity had personally excused him from its laws. “Pfft, I’ve done it a hundred times. You scared?”

“Of course I am! Normal people don’t do stuff like this!” She waved a hand toward the window, exasperation curling around her words. But her objection bounced right off him; he treated every risk like it was just another obstacle course he was born to conquer.

“Who said anything about being normal?”

A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. Of course. Reasoning with him was like trying to negotiate with a thunderstorm. Once he’d set his mind on being reckless, the world just had to catch up—or get the hell out of the way.

And with that, he slipped out of the window like a shadow, landing on the fire escape with a clanging thud. He moved down the rickety old ladder like it was built for his own personal use, and then glanced back up at her with another grin. “Come on. I do this all the time.”

She eyed the rickety fire escape with deep skepticism. “You mean the ladder that looks like it’s held together with wishes and duct tape?”

He laughed, already halfway down. “Don’t be a wimp, Hikari. It’s fine. Trust me.”

With a resigned sigh, she grabbed the railing, muttering about the absurdity of following him down a ladder that would collapse if she sneezed on it. Her hands gripped the metal as she descended, rung by rung, each creak of the ladder making her stomach flip. When her feet finally hit the ground, he was waiting, hand outstretched, and without hesitation, she took it. He pulled her along before she could ask where they were going.

“This way,” he said, his voice quieter now, as they made their way around the side of the building. The city’s usual noise faded into the background and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Only their footsteps echoed softly against the concrete.

Then, she heard it: a chorus of soft meows and trills. Her eyes lit up as she gasped. “Oh my god, look at all the kitties!”

He chuckled as a small swarm of cats appeared, weaving between his legs, greeting him as though he were their king. Grinning, he pulled two small bags of kibble from his pockets and plopped down on the ground. With practiced care, he scattered food in small piles, and the cats crowded around him, their purrs rumbling in unison like a furry little orchestra.

“I feed them in the evenings,” he said casually, as if feeding a small army of stray cats was as ordinary as brushing his teeth. “The old lady on the second floor takes care of them in the mornings. Some other people bring treats, too.”

She settled down beside him on the cool concrete. Her eyes softened as she watched him, her fingers tapping lightly on her knees. “That’s... really sweet of you,” she said, glancing over at him.

His ears turned pink, and he rubbed the back of his neck with a mix of pride and embarrassment. “Yeah, well... Mom won’t let me have a cat, so... this is the next best thing.”

She hummed in understanding, her fingers still tapping their little rhythm. It was so him—fearless and reckless, yet patient and soft when he thought no one was watching. She chuckled, unable to stop the warmth spreading through her chest.

“Still…” She glanced around at the cats, some winding their way around him, others curled up, purring contentedly while several of them bathed, licking their little paws and washing their faces. “It’s pretty cute, you taking care of them like this.”

He cleared his throat, his face turning a deeper shade of red as he looked anywhere but at her. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to me being cute,” he mumbled, though his voice was a little softer than usual.

Hikari let her elbows rest on her knees, contentment settling in her chest as she watched the cats. Keisuke might be a whirlwind of recklessness, but there was a gentleness beneath it, one that he barely seemed to understand himself. It was there in the way he sat here with these cats, feeding them like he’d made a sacred promise to them.

She glanced over at him again, catching the way his fingers scratched gently behind a cat’s ear, his face peaceful in a way she hadn’t seen before. And in that moment, surrounded by purring cats and the quiet city night, she realized that this was what she loved most about him: the layers beneath the wildness, the kindness he didn’t know how to hide.

“Thanks for bringing me here,” she said, her voice quiet but sincere.

He glanced back at her, smirking, but his eyes softened, revealing that same hidden part of him. “Yeah, no problem. Thought you’d like it.”

And he was right.

***

The world was soft and blurry, a warm cocoon of down comforter and half-remembered dreams. Hikari shifted beneath the covers, somewhere between the shores of asleep and awake, until something broke through the haze—a gentle prod against her shoulder. It started as an annoying poke, easily ignorable, until it turned into an insistent, relentless shake.

“Hey, wake up already…” Keisuke’s voice hissed in the dark, from somewhere very close, his tone bright with urgency and absolutely unapologetic. “Come on…”

Her eyes fluttered open, bleary and unfocused. All she could make out was a grinning silhouette hovering over her like some over-caffeinated shadow. “Keisuke?” she mumbled, her mind still firmly tangled in sleep.

“Yeah, it’s me. Come on, get up.” He sounded far too cheerful for someone who’d just wrenched her from slumber, and the grin on his face only widened as he hooked an arm under her back, hoisting her up into a sitting position with all the patience of someone handling a sack of rice.

“What the hell…? It’s the middle of the night…” Her protest was cut short as he whipped the comforter off her, leaving her exposed to the chilly air.

“It’s snowing. Look.” He all but dragged her toward the window, as if the night itself would cease to exist if she didn’t immediately get up to witness it. “First snow of the year!”

Hikari rubbed her eyes, her brain finally catching up with the rest of her as she glanced out the window. And there it was: fluffy white flakes drifting from the sky in a soft, sparkling curtain. She blinked, her irritation immediately melting into awe. “It’s so pretty,” she whispered, the sight stealing her breath.

“Here.” Before she could process the change in her mood, he shoved her coat into her arms, impatience woven into his every move. “Get your shoes. Hurry.”

A smile crept across her face as she grabbed her sneakers, swept up in his enthusiasm. Before she knew it, they were tiptoeing down the fire escape, the cold metal biting into her hands as they descended into the quiet, snow-covered night.

When they reached the ground, she tilted her head back, letting the snowflakes land on her cheeks. They clung to her lashes before melting away. The cold bit at her face, but it was a delightful contrast to the warmth spreading in her chest. It wasn’t just that it was snowing—it was that he’d woken her up for this and dragged her out into the night to share this moment. The first snowfall together.

She didn’t have long to savor the peace. Out of nowhere, a snowball smacked her squarely on the shoulder, cold and direct.

“Ha! Got you!” Keisuke crowed, his laughter ringing out with the kind of devilish glee only he could muster, like some impish snow spirit who’d found his true calling.

Hikari’s mouth dropped open in mock outrage. “Oh, that’s how it is?” she challenged, grabbing a handful of snow, molding it with exaggerated concentration. She braced herself, lifting it dramatically with both hands as if drawing in some great cosmic power. “Take this—Kame… hame… ha!” she yelled, launching the snowball with all the fervor of a hero summoning the final attack.

She missed. By a mile.

Keisuke laughed, dodging with ease. “Nice try, Goku,” he teased, eyes glinting as he lobbed another snowball her way, this one narrowly missing her ear.

“Oh, you’re asking for it!” she shot back, her laughter rising with the thrill of their impromptu battle. Snowballs flew between them in a chaotic blur, each one accompanied by taunts, dodges, and giggles as they tumbled through the snow, slipping and skidding across the blanketed ground.

Their laughter rang out in the stillness, echoing off the silent buildings as they chased each other, feet crunching through the snow. Every icy smack, every teasing taunt drew the world smaller and smaller, until there was nothing but the two of them, alone in their own little snow globe.

Upstairs, Ryoko stirred in her sleep, shivering as a cold draft snuck in. She cracked one eye open, and with a sigh that was half resignation, half long-suffering motherly intuition, she slid out of bed. Padding down the hall, she made her way to Keisuke's room, already knowing exactly what she’d find. And there it was: the window half-open, curtains flapping in the winter air.

That boy, she thought, shaking her head.

Peering out into the night, she spotted two pajama-clad figures bundled in coats, laughing like they didn't have a care in the world. Snow flew through the air in all directions, some of it actually hitting its intended target. And despite herself, Ryoko couldn’t help but smile.

No matter how many times I tell him… But how could she stay mad when they looked that happy?

With a smirk of her own, she leaned out the window, scooped up a handful of snow from the ledge, and packed it into a ball.

Down below, Keisuke bent over to gather more snow, blissfully unaware of the impending strike, when a snowball smacked him in the back of the head with a satisfying thwack. He yelped and spun around, eyes wide.

“What the—?”

Ryoko’s head poked out of the window above, brushing the snow from her hands. “Get your asses back up here,” she called down, her voice firm, though the warmth was unmistakable. “Now.”

“Dammit,” Keisuke muttered, giving her a baleful look as he brushed snow off his hair. “She always has to butt in.”

Hikari giggled, following him to the fire escape, not even a little surprised that they’d been caught. An overenthusiastic Keisuke dragging her out of bed for a midnight snowball fight? Of course his mom would find them. It was just… him.

And honestly? She kind of loved it.

They climbed the rickety ladder, the metal rungs icy against their fingers as they clambered back up. At the top, Ryoko waited, arms crossed and a look of exasperated affection on her face.

Keisuke, she thought, shaking her head as she ushered them inside, you’re going to drag that poor girl into trouble, sure as shit. But as they shuffled past her, cheeks pink from the cold and eyes still gleaming with excitement, she realized that trouble was just one of the perks of friendship with her son. And somehow, even as she sighed, she knew she didn’t mind. Not really.

[monochromaticbeans]

Chapter 1: My End and My Beginning

(3.2k words)

"You’re my end and my beginning…"

"All of Me" ~ John Legend

“Ugh, right now?” Baji groaned, eyes glued to the screen as his thumbs hovered over the controller, half a second away from obliterating the latest pixelated menace. “I’m almost at the boss level. Can’t it wait?”

“Nope. She looks about your age. Go introduce yourself,” Ryoko’s voice cut through the illusion of his game, sharp and undeniable. The controller vanished from his hands with a single swipe, as if by magic—or maybe just maternal authority.

“Seriously?” He sighed deeply, as though the weight of the world—or at least the weight of one really important boss fight—was on his shoulders. “Come on, can’t I just go later?”

“No. Now,” his mother said, in that tone that wasn’t up for discussion.

He dragged himself off the couch, feeling like a condemned man marching to his fate. He stuffed his feet into his sneakers, flung open the front door, and grumbled under his breath. “Be nice,” his mother called after him.

Be nice, he thought. He’d be nice, sure. But fast. Quick. In and out. It was just next door, anyway. How hard could it be?

The door to the neighboring apartment was wide open, held back by a giant cardboard box, the kind that seems to have existed for as long as moving vans have been invented. He peered down toward the parking lot, where a man—red-faced and huffing like a dragon in the middle of a tantrum—was barking orders at movers over a stereo system that looked like it’d seen better days.

“Um, excuse me?”

The voice was soft, like a whisper that hadn’t decided whether it wanted to be heard or not. It made him turn, curious, and there she was: a girl, smaller than him, with long black hair that had two striking white streaks and bangs framing her face. A guitar case hung off her back, and she shifted a box of books—manga, by the look of it—against her hip like it was too heavy, but she wouldn’t admit it.

“You live here?” she asked, her voice steady but quiet, like she was testing the waters. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers lingering there for a second too long. She looked at him, blinking with wide, purple eyes.

He nodded, his eyes drawn back to the white streaks in her hair. It was strange, but not the kind of strange that made you want to look away. It was the kind of strange that made you want to ask why, though he knew better than to do that. His mom would kill him if he asked something rude. He could already picture her glaring, hand raised to smack the back of his head. Not worth it.

“I’m Todawa Hikari,” she said, shifting the box to her other hip and standing just a little taller, as though introducing herself had been rehearsed a hundred times. “What’s your name?”

“Baji Keisuke,” he replied with a grin that revealed little canines just a bit too pointed. “My mom and I live next door.”

She nodded, and there was a beat of silence that stretched just a bit too long, until Baji’s eyes drifted back to the guitar. He jerked his chin toward the case slung over her shoulder. “You play?”

She cocked her head slightly, eyes narrowing with playful sarcasm. “Nah. I just carry it around to look cool.”

For a second, he stared at her, caught off guard—then a snort escaped him. That deadpan delivery was gold. He liked her immediately. “Okay, smartass. So you play guitar and read manga? Pretty cool.” He glanced at the box she was carrying. “What grade are you in?”

“Fifth.”

“No kidding? Me, too.” Without thinking, he grabbed the box from her arms, shifting its weight easily to his side and carrying it to her door. “Wanna walk to school tomorrow?”

She blinked once, then twice, before a smile broke across her face, small but warm. “Sure.”

He grinned again, liking her more by the second. As they waved goodbye and she disappeared back into her apartment, he felt a small surge of pride. That wasn’t so bad. Maybe having a new neighbor will be kinda cool.

Meanwhile, Hikari stood in her new living room, guitar case still slung over her shoulder, staring at the box of manga on the floor. The boy with the wild hair and tiny fangs—her first friend in Tokyo. Maybe this move wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

***

Hikari stood in front of the bathroom mirror, studying her reflection in the half-awake light of dawn. It was the sort of pale, drowsy light that seemed to say, Look, I’m not fully committed to today either. She blinked at herself, absently tucking the white streaks framing her face behind her ears. One of them rebelliously slipped back out. She blew a small puff of air to chase it out of her face, though she knew it would reappear the second she looked away.

“Uniform? Well, it’s on. That’s something,” she muttered, giving herself a once-over. “Teeth? Brushed. Hair… still there. Good enough.” As she ticked off each detail, her fingers tapped an invisible rhythm on the side of the sink, a quiet background to her own morning checklist. She found herself humming a tune that crept into her head somewhere between waking up and right now. The song was a tiny comfort, a shield between her and the new day ahead.

Next door, Keisuke pulled on his school jacket, a rare flash of early-morning energy in his eyes. Even his mom did a double take, muttering something about never seeing him up on time without needing a stick of dynamite underneath him. Normally, school meant very little to him—an obligation he could take or leave. But today was different. Not that he’d ever admit why. With one last tug on his collar, he was out the door, and they fell into step together as naturally as breathing.

The morning sun filtered through the patchwork of red, orange, and yellow leaves hanging over the street. As they walked, Hikari hummed softly to herself, each note settling her thoughts into place, turning the usual chaos in her mind into something calm and steady. It was strange—almost too easy—walking alongside him. She’d known him for one whole day, but it already felt like years.

As they approached the school gates, she let out a small breath. Starting at a new school didn’t seem nearly as terrifying with him by her side. When she found out they’d be in the same class, the knot of nerves in her chest unraveled a little more. I can do this.

“Psst…” he leaned over as they slipped into their seats, voice low but carrying a mischievous edge. “Hey, you any good at math?”

Hikari glanced at him, a smirk sneaking onto her lips. “Nope. Math’s my mortal enemy.”

He let out a tragic sigh, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “Damn. Guess that means I’m on my own.” He straightened, giving her a sidelong look. “So what are you good at?”

“Writing? Music?” She shrugged, her fingers absently rolling her pencil in her hand. “Grammar, I guess. Words are easier than numbers. What about you?”

“Oh, I’m a master of lunch. And gym. And avoiding homework.” He flashed her a grin, sharp and a little wild. It was hard to tell if he was bragging or admitting his limitations.

The snort that burst out of her was louder than she meant it to be, drawing a sharp glare from the teacher. She straightened instantly, cheeks flaming, and glued her eyes to her textbook. Still, she dared a glance at Keisuke. He was already looking at her, grinning like he’d just found his new favorite sidekick. And try as she might, she couldn’t stop the answering smile on her own lips.

Surrounded by a sea of strangers, Hikari realized something surprising: she didn’t feel out of place anymore.

***

“First day’s over,” Hikari sighed as the dismissal bell rang. Her voice was filled with the solemn relief of someone who’d just made it through an entire week compressed into a single school day. She crammed her books into her bag, feeling the weight of the day finally lift from her shoulders.

“Yeah, and you survived.” Keisuke smirked as he tossed his bag over his shoulder. “Thanks to me, obviously.”

She rolled her eyes, but a smile crept in anyway—he was only half-joking, after all. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get the hell outta here.”

They walked side by side into the golden afternoon, the warmth of the sun bathing the schoolyard in a friendly glow that seemed entirely disconnected from the bleak atmosphere of a school building. As they reached the gate, Keisuke froze mid-step. “Oh, shit. Forgot my workbook.” He scowled, mostly at himself. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

She nodded and stepped aside as he sprinted back into the building. She fidgeted with the strap of her bag, her fingers tracing lazily along the edge. The sun warmed her face as she watched other students filter out. Snippets of conversation swirled around her like fallen leaves in the breeze. People she didn’t know, gossip that didn’t matter, none of them paying any attention to her.

Until they did.

“Oi, new girl.”

She felt the voice more than she heard it, slicing through her peace like a knife. Her shoulders tensed, and she turned to see five boys making their way toward her with the slow, lazy swagger of people who had no need to hurry—because their fun was about to start. The leader sported a sneer that he probably practiced a hundred times in front of a mirror, letting his eyes wander over her hair with far too much interest.

“What’s with that hair?” he asked, tilting his head closer as if to get a better look. “Didn’t know we had skunks at this school.”

“Yeah, skunk girl!” laughed the tallest one, his tone suggesting this was likely the peak of his comedic career.

Hikari’s heart began to pound, but she kept her face calm. She’d heard worse, and she’d handled worse. “My hair?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “What’s with your face?”

The boy’s smirk slipped instantly, his expression hardening as he stepped into her personal space, looming over her like a cheap cologne-scented thundercloud. “Skunk girl, you’re either brave or stupid, talking back like that,” he spat, his breath hot and unpleasantly close. “And I’m guessing it’s stupid.”

Her palms began to sweat as the situation registered. This was much heavier than any teasing she'd dealt with before. Something about the way these boys were crowding her felt different. Harsher. She forced herself to keep calm, to shake off the creeping unease.

“What’s the matter, Skunk Girl?” the leader taunted, his voice low and dripping with malice. “You scared?” He shoved her, and she stumbled, her heart hammering in her chest. The ground seemed way closer than it should have, and on the second shove from behind her, she went down. Her knees scraped against the gravel as her books tumbled from her bag, the pages fluttering uselessly in the breeze.

Laughter rose around her, a chorus of mocking voices that seemed to bounce off the walls. And for a split second, she felt completely and utterly helpless, her vision blurring as tears threatened to spill. Then, a voice sliced through the chaos like a katana.

“What a bunch of pussies, picking on a girl,” Keisuke’s voice was low, cutting through the laughter with a force that made every head turn.

The laughter died instantly. And before anyone could even register what was happening, Keisuke was on them, his fists a blur of righteous fury. The leader hit the ground first as Keisuke’s knuckles landed with a precision suggesting this wasn't his first rodeo. One after another, the others stumbled forward, torn between disbelief and a sudden, overwhelming desire to be somewhere else. But pride got the better of them, and they jumped into the fray.

Hikari scrambled to her feet, backing away as Keisuke took them on, five to one. He moved like a force of nature, each punch sending another boy crashing to the ground. Within minutes, he stood victorious, his chest heaving, his lip split, and his eyes blazing with an intensity that made her feel, oddly, safe.

Keisuke grabbed the leader by his collar and yanked him off the ground, his face close and lethal. “I’m only gonna say this once,” he growled. “Don’t talk to her, don’t look at her, and don’t even breathe in her direction. Got it?”

The boy whimpered, clutching his side in pain. “Got it, man. Got it.”

Keisuke released him with a sneer, watching him crumple to the ground before turning to Hikari, his expression softening just slightly. “You alright?”

She looked down at her scraped knees, only now feeling the sting as the adrenaline faded. But that wasn’t what held her attention. “You’re bleeding,” she murmured, rummaging in her bag for a pack of tissues. “Hold still.”

He blinked as she stepped in close, pressing a tissue to his split lip with a kind of gentleness he didn’t know what to do with. “There,” she said quietly, meeting his eyes with a small smile. “All good.”

For a second, he just stared, processing the fact that someone was fussing over him after a fight. His cheeks turned a light shade of pink, and he scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, thanks…”

She chuckled softly, pulling away. “Don’t mention it.” She hesitated, glancing at him thoughtfully. “You didn’t have to do all that, you know. I’m fine.”

“Fine?” he scoffed, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You got shoved to the ground. Don’t you know how to fight back?”

She shrugged, rubbing her still-stinging palms. “I’m more of a verbal assassin. Usually, I can sass my way out. But… yeah, I guess that didn’t work this time.”

He chuckled, nudging her shoulder playfully. “Well, we’ll fix that. I’ll show you how to throw a punch that’ll make ‘em think twice.”

A grin spread across her face, the tension in her chest easing. “Thanks. Maybe next time, I’ll be the one knocking them on their asses.”

“See? Now that’s the spirit.” He laughed, casting a glance over his shoulder at the boys still groaning on the ground. “Alright, let’s get outta here before the teachers show up.”

With a laugh, Hikari nodded, and the two of them walked away from the school, side by side, into the warm light of the afternoon..

***

“Quit staring, Haruchiyo,” Senju muttered, her elbow jabbing him in the ribs, sharp enough to make him flinch. Her eyes, bright and cutting, darted between him and Hikari. “It’ll be nice having another girl around if you don't weird her out first.”

“I’m not gonna weird her out,” Haruchiyo mumbled, though his gaze lingered on Hikari a beat too long. His lips curled into a slow, crooked grin, not quite reaching his eyes. “I was just thinking... her hair’s kinda cool.” He shrugged, the movement lazy, but the grin lingered as if he knew something more, something unspoken.

Hikari shifted in the oversized gi Keisuke lent to her. It smelled faintly of detergent, the fabric soft but a bit loose around her smaller frame. She tugged at the sleeves, the ends brushing her fingers as they fell almost to her knuckles. The air inside the Sano family dojo was thick—the scent of wood and incense seemed to cling to the quiet, like the past had soaked into the walls. It was oddly comforting.

She looked at Senju with her pink hair and then at Haruchiyo, who was still watching her with that curious half-smile. There was something unreadable in his expression, something about the way his eyes traced the white streaks in her hair that made the edges of her mind prickle. Weird, but okay.

“Another girl? Really?” A burst of energy arrived in the form of a girl with sunshine for hair, all smiles and brightness. “I’m Emma! And my brothers are around here somewhere.”

Before Hikari could respond, Keisuke's voice tore through the room, a shout full of raw energy. “Mikey! Where the hell are ya?”

The sudden loudness hit Hikari like a clap of thunder. Her eyes widened as his voice rang in her ears and rattled her brain like a pea in a can.

From the hallway, a voice drifted in, slow, like it had been pulled reluctantly from sleep. “Don’t shout.”

A boy with tousled blonde hair strolled in. His eyes were half-lidded, as if he was still dragging himself out of some dream. Like his body had arrived but his mind was still lingering somewhere far away. He walked as if gravity barely applied to him, like he was just passing through and floating by. But when Hikari’s eyes fell on him, something stirred deep in her chest. A faint, familiar pull, like the soft pluck of a guitar string in the back of her mind. An odd sense of... recognition?

“Who’s the new kid?” Mikey asked, his voice bored, as if the question was hardly worth his attention.

Baji moved beside Hikari, his hand resting on her shoulder like a declaration. “This is Hikari. She’s gonna start coming here with me.” His words held a kind of finality, like he was welcoming her into some ancient and important secret order. “Mikey is Emma’s brother.”

“I know.”

The words slipped from Hikari’s lips before she even realized what she was saying. Her own voice felt foreign to her, like it didn’t quite belong. How do I know that?

The room seemed to hold its breath for a moment, but Mikey, still distant, barely blinked at her response. “Cool,” he muttered, turning away like the interaction had already drifted out of his mind.

Hikari bunched the sleeves of her gi in her hands. It was like déjà vu, but the kind that didn’t quite fit, like trying to remember a dream already slipping through her fingers. The feeling poked at the corners of her mind, quiet but persistent. But she pushed it away, letting it drift like a leaf on a still pond.

That night, she laid in bed, the weight of the day pressing down on her. The unfamiliar familiarity of everything gnawed at her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew these people—Mikey, Emma, Senju, Haruchiyo—from somewhere. Even her nearly instant sense of ease around Keisuke surprised her.

There was something about the way the day unfolded, like she’d been reading lines in a play she didn’t remember rehearsing. Each moment carried an undercurrent, subtle and strange.

She rolled onto her side and buried her face in her pillow, trying to shake the weirdness that wouldn’t quite let go.

Her mind circled back to Haruchiyo. That cryptic smile. There was something about him, something about the way he watched her, like he knew something she didn't.

She let out a slow breath, the tension in her body easing slightly as she settled deeper into her pillow. Maybe I’m just tired.

But even as her eyelids grew heavy, the sense of something just out of reach lingered. Like a song that played too quietly to hear, just at the edge of her awareness, like a half-remembered dream.

[monochromaticbeans]

Sakayume

Hikari’s world has always revolved around Baji Keisuke and the Tokyo Manji Gang. A founding member in Toman’s First Division, she’s fierce, loyal, and deeply connected to the bonds of friendship and family forged in the chaos. But when her childhood nightmares turn into fractured realities, Hikari is drawn into a turbulent journey across timelines she can barely comprehend.

Through a variety of lives—some filled with love and light, others steeped in heartbreak and despair—Hikari comes to understand the strength she’s always carried within. As she faces unthinkable losses, impossible choices, and glimpses of things that could have been, she learns the only way forward is to honor herself and the ideals that Toman was built upon: loyalty, friendship, and protecting one another.

Let the two of us sneak out into the freezing night sky, gently draped in a warm coat.

Back then, I thought that you would always be by my side, as if it was a given. 

“Sakayume” ~ King Gnu (Eng. translation)

[monochromaticbeans]

Haven't been on here in a hot minute... Will have Part 1 of my fanfic incoming soon. Stay tuned, or not. You've been warned. 🤣