#//he's putting up a ward around shibuya just to be safe

[strawberista]

"Oh damn. Look at that. Sucks for you, boss. Couldn't be me."

Could he help? Maybe. Is he going to? No. He takes a sip of his coffee and watches from a safe distance.

[peachsukii]

Read the first chapter below or on Ao3 / FF.N !

Chapter 1: Hurricane

A beautiful summer morning, rays of tangerine light poured into the living room of your apartment as you sleepily make your way to the kitchen, desperate for that first cup of coffee. The clock on the stove read 8:35AM - the latest you’ve overslept in the last month. It was another long night in the office, writing reports for your previous week’s hero patrols that you’d put off for far too long. You'd think someone else would be responsible for inputting notes into the agency's system, but no - anyone below rank 10 was tasked with entering in their own data. 

Criminal activity in the area had increased significantly within the last 3 months, calling heroes of all ranks out nonstop, especially lower ranked heroes. Was it annoying? Sure, being awoken in the middle of the night out of a dead sleep to go stop a small robbery at the local late-night supermarket wasn't ideal. Especially when you dreamed of dealing with bigger threats, akin to crime syndicates and large scale villain organizations. As a hero, you’re taught to tune out the small details and focus on what’s in front of you - keeping the citizens of your ward safe and sound, even if it's helping a granny cross the street in the middle of the afternoon.

The agency accepted you with open arms right out of UA High, over the moon to have a hero with a quirk like yours in their roster. Psionic energy manipulation was shockingly uncommon amongst the 80% of the population of quirk users. The kinetic hero, Y/H/N, ranked number 37 - high enough to earn respect from your peers and low enough to not have to worry about being followed by paparazzi and negotiating brand deals. Cities were full of billboards with ads sponsored by heroes, heavily focused on those in the top 10 for allure to their product. Deku and Dynamight’s athletic wear collaboration, Uravity’s mochi bites, Shouto’s fire and ice energy drinks - it was impossible to avoid. Did you wish you had the smallest bit of spotlight? Sometimes, but being able to walk the streets off-duty and not be bothered was a luxury you'd like to keep. On the counter, your phone buzzed and flashed awake, shaking you out of the sleepy stupor.

Incoming Call: Katsuki Bakugo 

A picture of you and Bakugo appeared on to the caller ID screen - one of your favorite pictures with him. It was from a concert in Shibuya you'd attended a few months back. His arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as he flipped off the camera, wearing his infamous toothy smirk as you leaned against him with a small peace sign and a warm smile. 

It's unfair how effortlessly attractive he was. Admittedly, you'd had a crush on him since high school and drank up every ounce of affection he threw your way over the years. Even though you've known him and Midoriya since childhood, your friendship didn't truly blossom until your first year in UA. Thanks to your tenacity and fighting spirit, he respected you after a long six months. That broke down his walls just enough to tolerate you and continue to be friends ever since. 

You, Midoriya, and Bakugo became three peas in pod, a strong bond established to last a lifetime. Post-UA life wasn’t as easy to see each other, but you made it work - trainings, missions, conflicting work schedules, and general life couldn’t get in between the three of you, even if it was just over texts, phone calls and late-night movie marathons. It helped that you all lived in Tokyo, at least. Midoriya, of course, was extremely special and essential to your life. He’s like the little brother you always wanted and a constant ray of sunshine, always there for whatever you need. There was just something different and special about your bond with Bakugo - a spark, without sounding cliche. And after all these years later, he's still your favorite person and one of your best friends. 

You wouldn't trade it for the world. Oh shit, I forgot we planned to go for a run this morning. You answer hesitantly, knowing full well you’re about to get an earful about being late. 

“Yo, Y/N, you plan on showin' up anytime soon?” There was shockingly no annoyance in his tone. “It’s almost 9.”

“Sorry Kat! I overslept. Had a long night writing reports in the office. I’ll be there in 10,” you say, not making any excuses. You hear a loud tch in response - ah, there’s the annoyance.

“I was about to bust down your door and give you a personal wake up call,” he teases, laughing to himself. “Get your ass to the park. See ya, lite-brite.” The line ended with a click. 

He'd never let that nickname go, one that followed you all the way back from high school. You'd grown used to it as he typically reserved it to get under your skin or light a fire under your ass. Most of the time? It worked - and you liked it.

Setting the coffee cup in the sink, you jog back into your room down the hallway and change into a clean set of workout clothes. You'd just gotten the PR package from Midoriya last week with his new sports wear collaboration with Bakugo, saving you time by not having to dig through your laundry pile. He would have scolded you for slacking on chores if he were to have woken you up in person, and then folded it himself to prove a point. He’d often harp on you for not keeping up with basic shit around your place, but in the same breath, start cleaning up for you - it was one of his love languages. 

The company they collaborated with nailed the designs perfectly. It was minimalistic, but still paid homage to their hero costumes. You grab Bakugo's set - a cropped black sleeveless hoodie with an orange 'X' across the front, a forest green band with a drawstring around the midsection, and an orange hood. The matching shorts were all black with a simple orange stripe down the sides. The neoprene material allowed for the set to breathe in any weather condition.

Thankfully, the park you were meeting him at was only a couple minute walk from your apartment building. Not long after pulling your hair into a ponytail, splashing your face with water and brushing your teeth, you're kicking on your sneakers by the door and shuffling out of the apartment. A few minutes to spare, you duck into the convenience store along the way, grabbing two sports drinks and a bag of his favorite spicy-flavored chips. God, you hated the taste of them and never understood why he liked them so much. Some part of you jokingly thought it fueled his already explosive personality, literally heating him up from the inside.

~

"You wear that on purpose?" Bakugo snickers over his phone as you skip toward him, pointing to your workout gear. 

"What can I say? It's comfortable. Happy to be a walking ad for the number four hero," you say, elbowing him in the arm. He rolls his eyes, snatching the sports drink you've outstretched to him and mutters a thanks. 

"You should model our next set," he pats you on the back. "You're the perfect fit." 

You scoff, waving a hand at him. "Yeah, like I'm model material."

"I literally just said you were, dumbass. Take a damn compliment!" 

He peers over your shoulder to see the chips in your bag. "Damn, you're really kissing up to me today. What's the occasion?" He's beaming over the attention you're showering him with - he'd never admit how much he loved it.

You shake your head playfully. "What, I can't spoil my favorite person?" 

Bakugo barks out a laugh while opening the sports drink and chugging half of it in one go. Again, it was stupid how attractive he was, no matter what he did. The summer breeze made his blonde locks dance lazily in the morning sun, a sheen on his flawless skin as some of the liquid spilled out of the corner of his mouth, trickling down his jawline. A sadistic part of you thought he did this shit on purpose to rile you up, testing the boundaries of your friendship. 

If only you had the nerve to just scream from the rooftops - Katsuki, I fucking love you.

“You good, Y/N?” He's waving a hand in front of your face. “Space case much?”

“Yeah! Sorry, apparently still waking up,” you apologize while stretching your arms over your head. “Let’s go!”

~

An hour later, you and Bakugo finish your run in the park, completely drenched in sweat. The two of you plop under a nearby tree in the shade, the humidity adding a layer of exhaustion to your depleted stamina. Lazily slouching over onto your shoulder, he steals the sports drink out of your hand and downs the rest of it himself with a satisfied hah. Somehow, you always forget that he smells like caramel and burnt sugar after a run, invading your senses with that sweet essence that you loved. His bangs stuck to the sweat on his forehead as he dropped his head back against the tree, eyes closed as he caught his breath. 

God, he’s so fucking beautiful, you think to yourself, almost afraid he'd somehow hear you.

"I'm free the rest of the day," he comments between shallow breaths, lazily opening one eye and elbowing your side. "Down for a movie day? Been awhile."

"Hell yeah. Junk food, too?" Your eyes light up with excitement.

"Like you gotta ask. I didn't run three fuckin' miles just to look good," he quips. "Cool if I shower at your place?"

That catches you off guard, sending a flutter of butterflies off in your stomach. Why the hell are you so riled up today? Sure, you've had a massive crush on your best friend for ages, but its usually not this intense. Must be the scent of his sweat deluding your thoughts...or maybe it’s the potential scene of watching him walk out into your living room, shirtless - excess water cascading down his hourglass figure, tracing his abs and settling into the hem of his sweatpants.

Stop it! Calm the fuck down.

"S-sure. I have a pair of your sweats, I think…maybe Izuku’s? It’s like you guys leave your shit at my place so I do your laundry for free." 

He shoves you jokingly, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Hah! Knew it was you who stole my favorite pair. I’ve got shit with me, no worries.”

Bakugo climbs to his feet, extending a hand back to you. “C’mon, I’m fucking starving and dying to do nothing the rest of the day.”

~

The sunset’s sorbet-colored afterglow flooded the living room as the fourth movie’s credits rolled on the TV screen, a faint warm breeze coming through the open balcony door. The two of you had settled in after your run, marathoning through a collection of films you'd be wanting to watch, surrounded by a buffet of comfort food - taiyaki, meat buns, spicy fried chicken bites, mabo tofu, yakitori, and a box full of various flavors of dango. The cashier at the convenience store must have thought you two were hosting an insane party with how much food you bought, cleaning out their entire hot foods section in minutes. 

Bakugo stretched out like a cat, his abs flexing as his black tank top moved up his midsection. It was impossible not to stare, especially when he wore cropped shirts, showing off his hard earned muscles. You found it ironic how you mentioned once - and only once - how crop tops on guys are attractive as hell, and a few weeks later? He had a handful of them that he’d rotate wearing during the summer, claiming he only wears them for “regulating his temperature for his quirk.” You knew that was a bold-faced lie, but never called him on it. Why would you risk making him change his mind when they looked so good on him? 

He let out a satisfactory groan, putting his feet up on the coffee table and hands behind his head. You stretch as well, throwing your feet in his lap like always. Bakugo looked comfortable, like he was at home. You were home to him.

“I got somethin’ on my face?” He jokes, lolling his head to face you. 

Lost in thought, you have no time to stop the words falling from your mouth.

“No, just admiring you.”

Bakugo quirks an eyebrow, surprised by your flattery. You see a faint pink blush begin to make it’s way across his cheeks, an extremely rare sight.

“Th-thanks,” is all he can muster to say in a low voice. 

 “Is that so weird to say? You’re gorgeous, Katsuki,” you blurt out, shocked by your own words. Where the hell is this coming from? You normally weren't so...forward. Not that you were lying in any capacity. You've complimented him plenty times before, why is now different? 

Right?

You pause, realizing you could be overwhelming him. He'd always been adamant on how much he hates when "fans" view him as just a sex object rather than respect him as a heroic figure. 

“I know you hate being objectified. I’m sorry -,”

“Don’t be, y’didn't.” 

The static of the TV hummed through the lull in your conversation, the credits of the last movie approaching the end of its sequence. You nervously fiddle with the hem of your shirt. Thank fuck he can't hear your thoughts.

Bakugo notices your nervous tick and grins. That damn shit-eating grin. 

"Relax, Y/N. I didn't say I didn't like it. Big difference between you and a fan girl sayin' shit like that." 

As he’s about to continue the conversation, both of your phones ring simultaneously. That’s weird…it’s 8:30PM on a Tuesday night. Neither of you were scheduled for patrol and all sectors had coverage from the last e-mail update. You pull your phone out to check the caller ID and sigh in annoyance. Incoming Call: AGENCY - EMERGENCY LINE

“The fuck?” Bakugo huffs, his brow furrowed in confusion. 

~

After 15 minutes, you're debriefed with a new mission, and strangely, you’re assigned with none other than Bakugo and Midoriya. This was extremely uncommon for heroes of top 10 rank to work with those below rank 25 and only happened when other top 10 heroes are too busy. Emergency calls were normally automated messages, but this was a personal conference call from the board of directors.

We are in need of Y/H/N to assist Dynamight and Deku’s mission to stake out a villain’s laboratory tonight in Sector 42. We’ve received reports of civilians going missing near the area over the last few weeks, specifically those with uncommon and rare quirks. There is a probability that hostages are being using for the development of a secret serum, to which is unknown at this time. Report to the agency by 11:30PM for further instruction.

Man, you were really looking forward to more time with Bakugo. Granted, you’ll still be with him, but now you’ll be stalking around for work, not stuffing your face on the couch together.

“Kat, I don’t know what it is, but I…I have a really weird feeling about this stake out,” you admit, unsure of where this anxiety is coming from. This isn’t the first time you’ve been assigned to a mission like this, and certainly won’t be the last, there was just something odd in the air surrounding this one. 

“Yeah. Go grab your suit, I’ll call Izuku to meet us here and we'll go over together,” Bakugo says hesitantly, already dialing Midoriya and bringing his phone to his ear. 

“Hey, yeah just got the call. Y/N and I are at her apartment, swing by and we'll go to the agency together.”

~

By 11:45PM, the three of you are suited up and stationed in Sector 42. The area was very…barren? It was confusing to you how people would wander out here and disappear. It was in the middle of nowhere, miles from the city limits, an open field surrounded by a spotty tree line. Something still felt off about this entire set up - a gut feeling, but it was enough to keep you on edge.

“Y/N?” Midoriya called to you, blinking with concern. “Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.”

You rub your temple, desperately trying to push the feeling down. 

“Sorry, Izu. I’ve had a gut feeling something was wrong since the phone call.”

“What do you mean?” His interest is peaked, both out of curiosity and concern. 

“Can’t place it, but I feel it, too. Something’s not right,” Bakugo chimed in, surveying the field for any signs of…whatever the hell it was they’re looking for. An entrance to a lab? Masked minions abducting people? The agency was extremely vague in their details. That didn’t sit well with you, and Bakugo now, too. 

“You’re not wrong. This is an open area in the middle of nowhere. Why would anyone wander out here alone?” Midoriya muttered, continuing a conversation with his own thoughts aloud. “It's not a common road for travel, by foot or by vehicle. And how would the agency know what this villain is making without having the location of the lab in question?”

The abrupt sound of creaking metal echoed around you, a sense of danger spiking in your nerves. You place a hand on the shoulder of both Midoriya and Bakugo to halt them in their tracks.

“Did you hear that? It sounded like a door was opening…close by,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Whoosh!

You didn’t register there was another presence amongst you until the dart made contact with your skin. A warming sensation flowed through your right shoulder as you let out a cry, stumbling to your knee. What the fuck? Your hero suit was designed to prevent piercing damage to a degree, but this dart cut right through it. The dart resembled a syringe, automatically activating the injection mechanism as it pierced your skin.

“Y/N!” Midoriya shouted, immediately wrapping an arm around your waist to whisk you away from another potential attack. Bakugo whipped his head around, looking for any sign of where the dart came from. Was someone hiding, or was it a device hidden out of sight? Maybe in a nearby tree? That's not possible, these trees don't have enough leaves for coverage like that.

“Hold still, I’m going to pull it out,” Midoriya warned. You braced for the pain as he yanked the dart from your shoulder, tossing it out of reach. You wince, the sting slowly fading a few seconds later. “Are you feeling okay?”

Things were starting to feel fuzzy, the ache spreading rapidly through the rest of your body. Everything felt warm and cold simultaneously, as if your body was at war over what temperature to settle on. 

“I’m alright, just…dizzy,” you mumble, slurring as you attempt to reassure him.

Midoriya helps you to your feet, offering to let you use him as support. You wave a hand, muttering over and over again I’m fine, I’m fine. There’s a pulsing sensation starting to build in your shoulder, creeping its way through your right arm. It’s tingling, crawling - uncomfortable, but not painful. What the hell was in that dart? 

A flash of black invades your vision, throwing you off balance as things pixelate and sharpen repeatedly before completely disappearing. Things are spinning and your senses are dulling. You notice that you don’t hear Bakugo or Midoriya anymore…did they wander off? You should be able to hear explosions, gusts of wind, crackling energy - something.

A force knocks you on your back, slamming you to the ground. You don’t feel a damn thing, just a vague numbness as your body, what you presume, hits the ground. You can’t make out whatever, or whoever, it is that is attacking you. I still can’t hear anything! 

Can you speak? Can anyone hear you even if you could?

…Y…N! …Y/N!

A voice? It’s muffled, but you hear someone calling for you. Was that Midoriya?

“Let her go, jackass!”

Oh no, that’s Bakugo. 

His booming voice reverberates through your head, sending your thoughts whirling in a vortex more than they already were. A vision of the battlefield was starting coming into focus, hazy, but a semblance of scenery was making its way back to you. When did I get up from the ground? Didn't I get knocked down? 

The field before you was littered with debris.

…Branches and broken stumps of dead trees.

…Craters in the ground.

…are those broken pieces of Bakugo’s gauntlets? 

…patchy trails and puddles of blood soaking into the dirt.

The sights sent a chill up your spine - your gut instinct was right. 

To your right, Midoriya panted with force as he held onto his thigh, blood seeping through his suit and staining around the wound. He was close enough that you could see the detailing of his tendons exposed from the impact, frayed pieces of skin hanging from the damage. His hair was slicked back, matted with a mix of, what you think, is dirt and blood. The rest of his suit had a variety of slashes and cuts, the material tattered and torn all over his body.

To your left, Bakugo’s on the ground, battered and bruised as he’s struggling to get to his feet. His gauntlets were missing, along with the glove underneath on his right hand. His exposed forearm was beat red, what looked like hand prints blistering the area. Blood trickled from his forehead and pooled under his mask. He’s shouting again…you can’t quite make out what he’s saying as he’s extending his bare arm in your direction.

What the fuck happened?! 

Something inside you clicks abruptly, adrenaline surging, urging you to fight. It’s competing with the numbness in your muscles. How much damage have you taken if you can’t feel a damn thing?

Fuck. Come on, dammit. Move, fight - do something! Help them!

In your peripheral vision, a man appears beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turn on your heel, ready to activate your quirk and blast this guy into oblivion. Your hand meets his clothed chest with a thump.

Nothing happens. 

Your quirk doesn’t activate.

Another swing, focusing all the energy you have into a concentrated blast.

Nothing.

Panic sets in as you study your hand, mortified that you’ve been rendered useless. Your mind is racing faster than you can keep up with. Is this the serum they talked about earlier? How long was I unconscious...was I even unconscious? 

And then it dawns on you - it’s a quirk suppressant. 

The serum they’re using to abduct people nullifies their quirks to make them a willing target.

The mystery man cups your chin, forcing you to look up at him. Your vision tunnels on his face, the rest of your body shutting back down. You feel your arms flop to their sides as your knees begin to buckle - the adrenaline being zapped from your muscles at his touch. 

“Good, it’s setting in. You’ll be a decent specimen. We’ve been waiting for a psionics user like you to add to our roster.”

A giant swirl of matter begins to manifest in front of you, a gentle force sucking you closer to it’s entry point. You can't help but think about how helpless you look in this moment, confused as hell that this scrawny man could take down three heroes with ease. You fucking hated the feeling, never wanting to be the damsel in distress. It pissed you off beyond belief.

“It’s time.” The man, in what you can now see is a white lab coat, turns you around to face the boys sprawled on the battlefield. “We’ll be going now.”

Every inch of your body is screaming run. But you can’t. You can’t move, paralyzed by all the conflicting effects of the serum running rampant through your veins. Your vision is dimming once more, your eyes threaten to close as Bakugo’s voice drags you back to reality. Your eyes snap open as he appears in front of you, digging his heels into the dirt. 

“Hey, wake up! I’m not letting you go!” 

He’s screaming at the top of his lungs, pleading for you to hear him as he clutches your forearm, attempting to pull you to him. You can’t feel it, but by the strain shown in his bicep, he’s using all of his strength to hold onto you. His eyes are full of panic, wide and bloodshot, crimson irises aflame.

"Let her fucking go!" he roars a second time. His hand is slipping down your forearm, now desperately gripping onto your hand. You attempt to grasp it to no avail, your strength failing you. You hear him let out an anxious grunt, struggling against the force of whatever is pulling you away behind you.

Time seems to slow as you lock eyes, an exchange of unspoken words between you two. A sense of dread begins to flood through your body as you see tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.

He's terrified. 

You remember a thought from earlier in the day, if only I could scream "I love you."

There will never be a perfect moment, never a time and place for you to say it. You have to create the moment yourself.

A steady breath escapes you, softly gazing at Bakugo as you see his fingers slipping through your own.

"Katsuki," you mouth, barely able to hear the sound of your own voice.

"I love you."

The last thing you see is Bakugo frantically scrambling toward you before darkness envelops your sight.

- - - BAKUGO POV - - -

Everything happened in the blink of a fucking eye.

Ambushed, both him and Midoriya were hazed with a mysterious smoke, rendering their quirks useless. His explosions fizzled out as he fought the onslaught of henchmen surrounding them, armed with various weapons. The two of them blitzed through a good number of them before quickly becoming overwhelmed - 25 on 2 wasn't ideal odds.

Their hero suits were ripped, equipment shattered as they were punched, kicked, stabbed at, battered, and thrown around.

"I don't need my fuckin' quirk to kick your asses!" Bakugo threatened as he swiped at a nameless henchmen, nailing a right hook to his jaw. Midoriya was holding his own behind him until he let out an agonizing yelp, falling to the ground audibly.

"Deku!" Bakugo called out, spinning in the direction of his cry as someone socked him from the left side. He skid onto the ground, particles of dirt trailing behind him.

Regaining his composure, he looked around to see that all of the henchmen had swiftly disappeared without a trace, as if they were never there in the first place. What the fuck?

He saw her body standing still, some man in a lab coat behind her. She resembled a lifeless puppet, the light from her eyes dim and limbs loosely at her sides. It looked as though she could collapse at any moment.

"Let her go, jackass!" Bakugo shouted, unable to get to his feet.

The unknown man gripped her shoulder as a large black mass appeared behind them. 

Is that a portal? That looks like Kurogiri's quirk from years ago, he thought to himself, willing every fiber of his being to get to his fucking feet.

He's able to muster enough strength get one knee off the ground, enough to launch in range of her and wildly grasp for her hand. 

“Hey, wake up! I’m not letting you go!” 

Bakugo doesn't realize he's screaming, he's acting on impulse and adrenaline - desperation to save her. His hand is slipping at an agonizingly slow pace, moving from forearm to her hand, hardly able to keep his hand clasped with hers. He's cursing internally, hoping that she can't see the terror in his eyes, the anxiety filling him to the brim. That's when he hears her speak, her voice hauntingly quiet.

"Katsuki, I love you."

His hand slips away, watching her disappear into the portal. It closes in an instant as he's hopelessly dashing to it, not noticing that Midoriya is charging from behind him. They briefly collide, stumbling from the impact before they both steady themselves. 

The silence surrounding them is deafening.

"Kacchan," Midoriya snivels, head hung low. "I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough to help." His voice was breaking, clenching his fists at his side.

Bakugo stares at his hand, collapsing to his knees. He felt nauseous, the crippling realization churning in his stomach.

I love you.

Her voice ricocheted through his head, bouncing around as it tugged hard at his heartstrings. An overwhelming sensation of loss fills his heart, refusing to come to terms with the current reality. 

A brief memory flooded into Bakugo's mind, reminding him of a feeling he'd long shoved away. One night - years ago - at his brand new apartment in Tokyo, they'd been up all night talking after the long day of moving his shit into the place. It was 3AM, boxes piled everywhere as they laid in his bed, bullshitting the night away with random talks of life. She started a vulnerable conversation of mental health amongst heroes, ranging from her own family issues and medicated struggles as examples of not knowing what people deal with beneath the surface. He'd been listening, watching as she poured her heart out next to him, able to smile through it all. It was in that moment that struck him like lightning - he'd fallen madly and irrevocably in love with her. He had convinced himself there was no way she would have felt the same, forcing himself to suffocate that feeling for years.

And he was wrong.

Midoriya crouched down beside him as he's lost in the memory, a hand on his shoulder. 

"We'll find her, Kacchan, don't worry," he attempts to declare confidently as his own tears are staining his cheeks. "She's strong, she'll be -,"

"She said she loved me." Bakugo's facade was shattering before his eyes as he watched his best friend crumble onto the ground, clutching his chest. He couldn't control the wail that escaped him, tears pouring from his eyes like the downpour of a rainstorm. 

Midoriya pulled him close, Bakugo falling limply into him, curling into a ball as they sobbed together.

HOLLOW HEART

Pro-Hero Bakugo x f!reader

The dynamic duo of Dynamight and Deku are unstoppable, climbing the hero charts like they always dreamed of as kids. Their journeys were tough, but offered them the world - fame, fortune, protection of their family and friends, a comfortable hero life. The recent increase in crime around Tokyo kept their entire sector busy, sending heroes out non-stop, desperate to keep the statistics as low as possible to maintain a clean reputation. When a nearby sector is requesting assistance, the boys are tasked with a mission to inspect a villain's lair in a deserted area outside of the city. Reports have noted people going missing, specifically with rare quirks. With plenty of other heroes being unavailable, you're chosen to tag along with the duo for the night operation. Everything is going according to plan until the villain lands a surprise attack, resulting in the your kidnapping and whisking you away through a mysterious portal. It's been a month since your disappearance with no help of the hero agency. Bakugo and Midoriya take it into their own hands and are determined to get you back - no matter how long or what it takes.

Prepare for the heartbreaking journey of Bakugo battling with his feelings when it's too late...or is it? :)

- All Class 1A characters are 22/23 years old and pro heroes - Dynamight is 4th, Deku is 5th and Reader is 37th - Reader is female with she/her pronouns - Reader has an energy manipulation quirk - Reader's hero type is "The Kinetic Hero" (i.e. - "Explosion Hero," "Gravity Hero," etc.) - Bakugo's "nickname" for reader is Lite-Brite (a pun on her quirk)

Inspired by the song "Dreamstate" by Dayseeker! Always told me to keep you close, the feeling's fading when you're a ghost I dream of colors that light your face but real life showed me it takes away 'Cause every time I wake up I'm waiting for a miracle And maybe when the night comes, I'll find you in another world So how do I live in a dreamstate? When nothing is real when I'm awake The sun rises but I know I'm afraid I'm living in a dreamstate

Read chapter one on AO3 or FF.N.

[minamimotonagi]

An Equation Called “Love”

Nagi is starting off her college days at Realground college. She wouldn't have expected her first day to become a major plot-twist to her life.

(Warning: This fan-fiction may contain spoilers for the first 'The World Ends With You' game and may contain 'NEO The World Ends With You' spoilers up until the demo. If you don't want spoilers for either of those two sources, you are reading at your own discretion.

This is the Safe For Work version of this fan-fiction. 

This fan-fiction is wholly interpretations of how they would interact.)

Originally posted to ArchiveOfOurOwn account ZettaCute. 

Chapter 1: Realground College 

The woman with medium length purple hair half tied into twin tails held up by green ribbons rushed out the door. It was her first day of college today. The badges in her itabag made small clashing metal noises as she ran with a piece of toast in her mouth to the building.

Huff... Huff...

There she had ended up after a ten minute rush. She didn't want to be late for the first day.

This was it. Realground College.

Chapter 2: First Class, Introduction To Animation

Nagi whispered motivational speech to herself, inspired by what her favourite character would usually say. She was more than likely imagining him cheering her on in her head at this point.

The college building she entered had a huge doorway which until she looked up, didn't even seem to have a top to it. Its exterior and interior were like nothing she had ever seen before. Exterior-wise, it was fashioned to be intricate. An eye-pleaser. Interior wise, the building was spacious. Filled with many new students getting ready for their first day of either college or their course.

"Lord of the educational system, accept my power!" Nagi exclaimed. Her anime badges jingled with her pointing pose, legs spread wide as if she had just asked to be taken on an adventure quest. The tutor in front of her blankly stared at the purple haired woman.

"Um... What's your name... Ma'am...?" The tutor asked in surprise at the interaction. He scratched at his bald head which was covered by an old-fashioned cap on the top.

"Villainess Nagi of the special ward of Tokyo, Shibuya!" She announced eccentrically. Some heads had already turned towards the bizarre woman.

"...Nagi, right?" He replied after an awkward silence, most likely him trying to figure out what our protagonist, Nagi, had just said. The man pointed to a door to Nagi's right on the other side of the room. "Your classroom." He handed her a planner.

Nagi made her way to the classroom labelled "Animation Studio", shocked to have a dark man go past her and almost knock the plushie key ring off her bag. She stumbled, regaining her balance from the surprise. She sighed when she looked back at the man who had almost took her off her feet. He had mid-length dark brown hair and a dully coloured outfit. He was dark, too. Nagi took out her phone to look at pictures of her anime husbando before her college day started. Was there really someone that perfect out there? She didn't have enough time left to catch up with him. Class would start in a few minutes. Internally she prayed to see that man once again. She needed proof that it wasn't just a mistake from him flashing by her.

The classroom was filled with at least twenty animation students getting ready for their first day. The desks were unit separated work tables with desktop computers installed into them. Nagi sat herself down to a seat, got her equipment out and made herself comfortable. She put a small plushie of her husbando in her work space leaned against the computer 's box which stood next to the monitor. The only other thing on her desk that was already placed there before she came apart from the computer was a drawing tablet, a necessary piece of equipment for an animation student. She was ready for this course! Of course, since she lived in Japan, drawing hot anime men was perfectly acceptable for this course. And she could cope with drawing other things too. At least she got to admire her favourite things, created by her own hands this time.

Fingers clicked in-front of Nagi's zoned out face. Tan fingers. Nagi took a pause.

"-You!" She exclaimed, getting up just to pose and point at this man. It was him! The one who knocked her a little.

"...Zetta weird." The tall tan man replied. Nagi could see it now. This man looked feral.

He was hot.

"I bestow you everything and will even sacrifice my life to you, (CHARACTER NAME)!" Nagi replied back.

... ......

There was awkward silence between the two. Hell, not just between the two. Between the whole room.

"...Who are you, hectopascal?" The man asked, adjusting his wonky lanyard so it's mathematically in place.

"The beautiful villainess known as Nagi of the special ward of Tokyo, Shibuya!" She added an extended emphasis on Shibuya's pronunciation.

"I don't give a digit about the other garbage, Nagi." He replied. "This is my latest masterpiece of a college entry: name's Sho Minamimoto. Call me Minamimoto."

"Almighty lord Minamimoto..." Nagi said with a bit of a higher pitched fangirling noise near to the end of her sentence.

"That's right!" Minamimoto folded his arms proudly.

"That's too loud! Shush!" Said the Animation tutor who had just entered the classroom. "To your seats, please."

Minamimoto sat down at the unit next to Nagi. Most likely, he was originally going to ask if he could sit there. Given the way Nagi had responded, there wasn't any harm for him to take the available seat next to her.

First animation class of the course was an introduction to the course. Nagi looked over to Minamimoto briefly. He rolled his eyes at the screen. It was as if he had listened to this lecture many times before. Nagi brought back her attention to the projector screen in front of her that the tutor was pointing to, reading out and explaining what they would do for the courses projects. Nothing seemed too difficult yet. Nagi felt like this course wasn't going to eat at her easily. She felt ready to take it on. A hot man sitting next to her made it an even better start to the course. She was ready to create art and animation of hot anime men!

Chapter 3: Lunch Break

When it was lunch break after a two hour introduction lecture which had a small fifteen minute break in-between it, Nagi put her equipment and plushie away. She picked up her bag to leave. As she was about to leave, Minamimoto put a hand on her shoulder. She turned around to him. He scratched his head and begun to speak to her.

"Want to crunch some factors?" Minamimoto asked her. Nagi pointed her finger to her mouth, thinking.

"Get lunch?" She asked, making sure that was what he meant. Minamimoto nodded his head.

Nagi and Minamimoto made their way to the cafeteria to get lunch together. They walked side by side, looking like a couple to most people they passed due to Nagi's itabag. Of course they weren't one... Yet. Nagi had her eyes set on this man if he was single. She paused as they were walking.

"Zetta slow." Minamimoto rolled his eyes. "My stomachs ready to crunch some factors." He complained.

"...Sorry." Nagi put on a nervous fake smile. She caught up. Continuing to walk along side the tan man. Minamimoto was looking at her, waiting for her to finish what she was going to say. "Um... Never-mind." She hesitated from saying what she was going to say. Minamimoto shrugged to himself. He kept on walking until they reached the cafeteria counter.

Minamimoto looked at the menu hungrily. He almost drooled at the sweet desserts. Nagi was too busy watching her new friend's reaction to the sweet treats to look at the menu just yet. As he was about to turn around to her, she brought her attention to the menu. She didn't want to make it obvious she had been watching him for a bit. She put a hand on her chin, uttered out a hmm and tried to decide what to have for lunch. She went with a regular enough curry rice that was hard for anyone to mess up. After eyeing a very sweet looking dessert, Minamimoto knew what he wanted.

"You're only having afters?" Nagi asked after ordering a simple curry rice for herself.

"I could crunch some food times two." Minamimoto replied, ordering himself a regular slightly sweet meal and a sickly sweet dessert. Nagi went bleh in an imitation under her breath. Especially when she realised he had also ordered a caramel macchiato with that. It was a fancy cafeteria for a college but that was overboard on sugar levels.

The two ate their meals at an available table with only two chairs assigned to it. They chatted to each other during eating their lunch. While chatting, Nagi took an available moment to ask Minamimoto what she wanted to ask him earlier.

After an amount of awkward stuttering, she finally managed to get it out.

"So," She laughed nervously, eyes turning to look to the side while eyelids drooped on the furthest sides. A timorous smile on her face. "Almighty lord Minamimoto, are you single?" She bit her lip after asking that question, her nervous expression not swept away.

"I have zero equal integers. I'm a single digit." Minamimoto replied. "Why did you want to know the answer to that equation?" He finished speaking.

Nagi rubbed her hand behind her purple hair nervously. She moved her hand so it was playing with the front lengths of her hair. She finally found an appropriate excuse of an answer. It was a slightly slow thought process due to the situation.

"You look like you're popular." Nagi told him.

"Zetta popular." Minamimoto responded. "But you need to recalculate if you think I'm that zetta popular enough to have a equal integer." He was just finishing the last bite of the dessert he had recently moved on to. He was quick at engulfing all of that sweet content down. Nagi nodded, continuing on the conversation like she hadn't asked a question she needed answered. Yes! Her crush was single. His quirky math loving personality only added to her attraction for him. It would be possible for her to also get used to his sweet tooth for food.

[Notes -

 equal integer = a romantic partner]

Chapter 4: Fight

[Notes - 

Spoiler: No, this isn't angsty. Not an actual spoiler but a heads-up for people who aren't a fan of reading angst to not worry. I don't like writing angst that much so you're safe. LOL.]

After they had eaten, it was time to head back to class. They had filled in their decent length of free time with conversation.

As they walked back to the Animation Studio, some guys ganged up around Nagi. The weirdos threw out insults at the short woman who was cowering in fear. Minamimoto came up to them. He beat them up, wiping a small mark of blood off his face when he was done with them. Nagi was in shock at how he had responded to her being ganged up on. In shock but thankful. He was like an anime or game protagonist. She heavily digged it.

"You zetta sons of digits!" He spat. "Leave my coprime integer alone!"

Unfortunately for Minamimoto, a tutor walked into the scene. It was the same old man from earlier. The tutor saw the unconscious students laying on the floor. He shook his head at Minamimoto. He was in deep shit for heavily beating up the students who tried ganging up on Nagi.

"Come with me, Mr. Minamimoto." The tutor said in a stern voice. Minamimoto looked down in shame, expression hard to read thanks to his hat. Nagi followed after. The tutor hadn't realised she followed them all the way to the student support room. He sat Minamimoto down, sighed and sat Nagi down to a chair too.

The tutor laid down paperwork on the table in front of Minamimoto. It was about having a valid reason to not be expulsed from what Nagi could see. She wanted to scream at that moment. Her new friend was about to be kicked out first day?

Nagi couldn't let that happen. Especially not when Minamimoto had a valid reason to not be kicked out. It was an act of defense. Not self defense, but defending a friend who couldn't fend herself at that moment.

"You should head back to class, Miss Nagi." Requested the tutor. She shook head.

"No!" She exclaimed. "Almighty lord Minamimoto didn't do anything wrong!" She had an angry expression on her face. She needed to prove his actions were justified.

"Nagi, it's okay." Minamimoto sighed. "My third time being out my vector about the course." The tutor sighed listening into their conversation, waiting for the moment he could speak.

"Your third time beating people up." The tutor said in a fed up tone. "Before you even begun creating those crap pile trash heaps."

"Trash heaps?" Nagi sounded confused.

"My garbage heaps are masterpieces." A grimace appeared on Minamimoto's face as he replied with that. Was it just Nagi or did Minamimoto's speech go normal for a second? There were no mathematical references thrown into his speech. This was getting weirdly interesting. The tutor let out a long sigh at the tall tanned man. Most likely not the first time he had this talk.

What had been a normal conversation turned into a full on argument between Minamimoto and the tutor. Another tutor came over to Nagi, instructing her to go back to class and informing her that her new friend would be fine. She headed back to the Animation Studio.

[Notes - 

Coprime integer - friend In this work, Minamimoto refers to relationship partners as "equal integers." A "coprime integer" in his definition is a platonic friend.]

Chapter 5: Second Class, Concept Designs

In class, Nagi apologized for being so late. She explained why Minamimoto wasn't back. The tutor sighed, saying again? under her breath. She gave Nagi an explanation not to get too involved with Minamimoto's drama. She didn't want her new student to fall behind due to an old one who kept failing his course acting up.

It was Nagi's first time in her new course getting to use the computer equipped on her unit to create some art in this course. The instructions were to draw whatever the student desired to as long as it was an original character design. After the computer power on which wasn't in bad timing, the purple haired woman begun to boot up the art program and begun drawing an anime character concept design. As Nagi was about to get her plushie out of her bag, she realised something. It wasn't there. She let out a horrible scream.

"Gyahhh!" She caterwauled.

"...Miss Nagi?" The tutor said in a questioning tone. She looked almost as astonished as Nagi did. That was loud.

"My bag!" Nagi cried. "It's not here!" Tears were rolling down the small woman's face.

A tall figure with dark brown medium length hair walked in the room. Nagi turned her attention to the man. He had a purple bag held over his back like a potato sack.

"Yo, zeptograms."

It looked like a scene that came out of a game. Nagi hiccupped and went over to him.

"Almighty lord Minamimoto, is that my bag?" Her sobbing had punctuated her speech. "Thank you so much, I owe you my life and my soul." She was filled with gratitude, falling to the floor and bowing for him. Minamimoto pulled her up by her wrist. He put her itabag on her available arm. Nagi had gone flushed. Minamimoto had already let go of her and was back in his seat before she snapped back into the situation. She shook her head, returning to her desk unit to continue the work set.

The tutor came over to explain to Minamimoto what to do. She seemed to be struggling to get him to understand he needed to make a character design. He was being told to try not drawing a trash heap. Or to at least make it into some sort of creature.

"You could make it mathematically related?" Nagi suggested as she worked on her own piece.

"She's right, Minamimoto." The tutor sighed in relief. "Try designing a character that's mathematically related." Minamimoto's eyes got slightly bigger how like a cats would thinking about it. "Try that idea out." The tutor said before leaving off to help out another student.

Minamimoto was in full concentration mode on the screen now. Nagi smiled. She continued with her own work. Her character was starting to come together. Man, did he look handsome. She was almost drooling at the screen at this point.

It was a fun first hands on experience for the course. The tutor did have to come over to Minamimoto a few times to make sure he wasn't getting side tracked with equations and trash heaps. He had been shouted at a few times during that class. Other than that happening, it was enjoyable.

To Be Continued...

[beautiful-de4mity]

[Alice Nine Fanfiction] ASYLUM (Chapter 2)

Hiroto feels a faint twinge in his chest as he notices the gleam of admiration for the doctor named Amano in Shou’s beautiful eyes. He says nothing more and lets Shou back on scrutinizing the notebooks and journals he has been reading after promising Hiroto to have lunch together. Shou looks so excited despite being exhausted, thought Hiroto, surely Shou really admires that Amano guy.

Chapter 02 [Vulnerable]

Author: beautiful-de4mity

Fandom: Alice Nine

A/n: I’m happy to be this productive and excited on writing again! I actually overdid the research on this theme and one of my readers told me not to put too detailed things since this is only a piece of fanfiction 😂 in the next chapters, I’m trying to focus more on the relationships between characters. Ganbarimasu!

Inspired song: ASYLUM from PLANET NINE Album

Disclaimer: Can we all agree that Alice Nine’s bonds are so wonderful we can literally ship every member with anyone? /I’m talking trash lol

The wall clock in his office points at ‘one’ in the morning but Amano Tora is still enjoying the online game The Last of Us, which he plays with some friends through his customized PC. It was a tiring day in fact as the hospital research team was running a series of tests and monitoring on Saga and the poor boy doesn’t seem to be in a good condition. Saga was being a handful today; kept fighting back and trying to escape from the running procedures. Finally, they had to completely sedate Saga and put him to sleep forcefully after his attempt to strangle one of the doctors. Tora exhales instinctively as the scene flashes through his mind, distracting his focus from the game until his friends’ panic yelp are heard through the headphones.

“Warui, warui,” Tora picks back his focus on the game.

Tora finishes the game thirty minutes later, placing the headphones on the keyboard and taking off his glasses. The young doctor leans back on the chair, massaging the bridge of his nose and exhales for the umpteenth time. The corner of his eye catches Saga’s assessment chart, which is still empty since this afternoon since everything went off plan. Tora somewhat feels relieved for Ohara Shou, the psychology student he was involved in researching Saga’s case, reported that he couldn’t come because of a group assignment today. Tora doesn’t want to scare Shou by seeing Saga went berserk and change his mind. Tora is really fond of Shou’s research proposal, it is very potential and promising.

The hospital corridor in the psychiatric ward is deserted, of course, it is almost dawn. Only a few people from the night shift remaining, chatting in the administration section sipping coffee. Tora smiles when several nurses greet him and giggle, making him shake his head as he enters the toilet. It is a public secret that Amano Tora becomes the idol of the female staffs in the psychiatric ward, even staffs from other departments throughout this hospital know him. Even so, Tora is not interested in dating anyone at all. Currently, work and games are two aspects of his life that he can’t abandon.

Tora pauses for a moment at the turn of the corridor upon returning from the toilet, staring at the door of Saga’s room several meters ahead where the young man is still sleeping under the anesthetic effect. Tora’s wondering if he should check on the poor boy’s condition even though he could just go to the monitor room to look through the CCTV. The young doctor finally walks over to Saga’s room and peeks through the glass window. Tora’s forehead frowned when he finds out Saga is writhing restlessly on his bed as if he is struggling to escape from something. Was he tied up earlier? Tora hurriedly pasts his ID to unlock the door, he then darts next to Saga’s bed and more surprised to find Saga’s shaking drenched in sweat. The young man seemed to be trying hard to fight something in his sleep but could not scream for someone to wake him up.

“Saga,” Tora kneels beside the bed and tries to wake his patient. “Saga, are you okay?” as slowly as possible, Tora shakes Saga’s body so that he won’t be startled or terrified.

Saga is trembling badly that Tora feels the need to grab onto Saga’s thin shoulders to prevent him from falling off the bed. Saga looks like he is trying to fight something terrible in his sleep, Tora can see clearly the expression of fear even though Saga’s eyes are closed. Saga clenches his jaws tightly, holding back the screams while both of his hands groping for the air almost punch Tora’s face. Just when Tora decides to force Saga to wake up, both of Saga’s eyelids opened. In the dark. Tora catch the glint of tears pooling down his dark irises. With a broken breath, Saga jolts up and immediately grabs Tora’s neck, hugging him very tightly as if he intends to break the young doctor’s neck. Tora tries not to make any sudden movements that can trigger Saga to panic even though his neck starts to ache.

Cautiously, Tora got up from his kneeling position and sits on the edge of Saga’s bed while Saga still clinging onto him like a Koala. Tora can feel Saga’s ferocious heartbeat, so fast that it might explode at any moment even though his body gradually stops shaking while his white clothes are soaked with sweat.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” Tora pats Saga on the shoulder awkwardly.

Saga buries his face in Tora’s shoulder more deeply, not making a sound.

“You had a nightmare?” asks Tora, followed by a small nod as the answer.

The young doctor fixes his position so that Saga can calm himself faster, while Saga himself feels a little confused about his own reaction: clinging on Tora as if Tora is a magnetic field. Come to think of it since the beginning of his arrival at this hospital’s psychiatric ward, Amano Tora is the only person who makes him feel safe and Saga doesn’t mind at all having any kind of contact with him. Even at this moment, Saga can clearly smell the faint scent of Tora’s perfume mixed with trail of tobacco, oddly helps him to calm down.

“I’ll leave when you can sleep again,” Tora breaks the silence when the sound of their breaths is the only sound heard in the room a few moments later.

Saga quickly shakes his head, gripping the front of Tora’s shirt to indicate the young doctor not to leave him. The response makes Tora’s brows furrowed in surprise. Indeed, all this time Saga has always shown a rather sweet, cooperative-good boy attitude to him, but he does not expect Saga to be this vulnerable with him when Saga usually guarded and distance himself from people. Tora takes notes carefully in his mind about Saga’s current behavior to be written later on the assessment chart he left on his desk.

“Okay, I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep,” again, Tora strokes Saga on the shoulder awkwardly.

For the first time in three months under his specialist care, Saga shows signs that he is starting to trust Tora. If Saga could tell Tora directly about how the young doctor make him feel safe and at ease whenever Tora is around, maybe Tora wouldn’t have been wondering this much. Saga manages to go back to sleep around three a.m. in the morning. Tora’s body feels so beaten up and he almost gives up temptation to fall asleep beside Saga. But he can’t let people find him sleeping while having his patient on his arms like that afterall.

***

Ogata Hiroto, a petite-built art student with flaming blonde hair, is pacing back and forth with a confused look of a typically lost child in the psychology faculty library building in his search for Shou. For several days, he had gone back and forth to the psychology faculty to find his senior, but the results were always to no avail. Shou didn’t reply to his LINE, didn’t update his YouTube channel, and didn’t update his Instagram for three days in a row, Hiroto was worried. Hiroto’s gaze finds a flash of Shou’s somewhat disheveled brunette hair on the desk next to “Journal Publications” section shelves, appearing star-like sparkling effect in the cute young man’s eyes.

“Shou yaaaaaan!” Hiroto’s excited voice and the sight of him running happily towards Shou, drawing all of the library visitors’ attention. “Ah, sorry, sorry,” Hiroto gives a shy bow as people stare at him with blasphemous looks.

Shou looks up from his notebook and journal print outs that are scattered on the table, he smiles sweetly at Hiroto. Shou’s face is slightly pale with trace of dark circles under his eyes, and overall he looks unusually scruffy. Hiroto is anxious and astonished as he sits next to Shou.

“Shou yan, are you okay? Shou yan sick or something?“ Hiroto’s eyebrows knitted, observing Shou’s unusual appearance from head to toe.

"No, I’m just having bunch of assignments,” Shou replies softly, putting down the pen he is still holding and now focusing on Hiroto completely. “What brings you here?”

Hiroto pouts, “I’ve been looking for you for the past three days, you know! Shou yan didn’t reply to my LINE, didn’t post anything on SNS even though usually you upload something regularly,” the cute young man sulks.

Shou ruffles Hiroto’s blonde hair exasperatedly, “Sorry, I’m really busy lately because the midterm exam right around the corner and Amano sensei has just invited me to join his research team,” explains the beautiful-eyed young man, his face flushes with joy when he mentioned ‘Amano sensei’.

“Who is Amano sensei?” noticing the unusual glow in Shou’s face makes Hiroto feel uneasy.

“Oh, him,” Shou’s face which was slightly pale now beamed. “He’s a neuropsychiatric at the private central hospital in Shibuya. When I was a freshman, the faculty invited him to be one of the speakers and since then I have been interested in doing research in neuropsychiatry. A few days ago I sent my research proposal on mutism and asked him to be the instrument validator. Surprisingly, he then recruited me to the hospital research team that currently is handling a case of mutism,“ Shou explains enthusiastically.

Hiroto feels a faint twinge in his chest as he notices the gleam of admiration for the doctor named Amano in Shou’s beautiful eyes. He says nothing more and lets Shou back on scrutinizing the notebooks and journals he has been reading after promising Hiroto to have lunch together. Shou looks so excited despite being exhausted, thought Hiroto, surely Shou really admires that Amano guy. Without Shou noticing, Hiroto is now watching him closely with his chin rests on his hand. Hiroto plays the memory where they first met inside his head. Shou was his two-year-older senior in high school. Shou is popular, student’s committee president, and also worked as a model for several local magazines. He’s always been so charming and stylish plus having brilliant personality that no one can resist.

It could be said that Shou saved Hiroto’s high school life. Being so shy, Hiroto found it difficult to make friends with other people. He always ate lunch alone in the school grounds until Shou accidentally found him and they have always had lunch together since then. Shou even helped Hiroto joining the photography club because Hiroto was too shy to do it himself and encouraged him to be the student committee. Shou has a huge role in shaping Hiroto’s current personality and Hiroto has always clung to Shou like a stray puppy.

Seeing Shou being highly motivated because of someone else like this, somehow brings up a feeling of reluctance even though Shou’s attitude hasn’t changed towards him at all. Hiroto lets out a sigh.

[kaiunkaiku]

It’s. An. Actual. Fic. Can you believe that?

@glassyartist and I talked about a Code:Breaker sickfic a while ago, and by “a while” I literally mean a fucking year, and I actually managed to finish something. 

This is set in the “couple of days” between chapters 88 and 89 because that’s literally the only possibility if I want Toki in the mansion and his arms out of the casts.

I don’t even know what to put in the warnings because who is actually going to read a fic of a series they’ve never even heard of? Illness, passing out, possible OOCness and I can’t believe I actually just wrote “OOCness” in 2017, and, as usual, me attempting to write dialogue.

“Toki-kun?” comes the question. “Are you sure you're alright?” Again. Toki grits his teeth and takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. He’s not going to blow up now, not going to snap at Sakura even though this is probably the fifth time she’s asking the exact same question. He’s exhausted and aching all over, but that's not something the others need to know. His head feels like there's a band around it, tightening as the minutes tick by. The cool surface of the table he’s currently leaning on is somewhat of a saving grace - he's quite sure he would be puking his guts up by now, if it wasn't for that.

Not like it isn't going to happen in the next few hours, but for now he tries to fight it. So he keeps his forehead to the table and mumbles a hopefully irritated-sounding, “Still sure" that probably comes out way more pitiful than he intended. He can feel Sakura’s eyes staring at him from the other side of the table, just as he can feel Yuuki’s gaze on him from the corner of the room. It’s silent, save for the quiet whirring of the fan rotating on the table between him and Sakura and Yuuki’s occasional mumble of the weird Nyanmaru song. Toki himself is begging for the sweet release of unconsciousness, or preferably death, to get away from the general god-awful feeling of malaise.

Toki doesn’t think he’s slept in the past week. Actually, he probably hasn’t slept in the past few years, but that he can put on the account of his manipulative ass of a father and the fact that he has to protect his sister from the prime minister of Japan.

Right now, he’s feeling those sleepless nights way heavier than what he’s used to. He knows the feeling of feeling physically ill upon waking up from two and a half hours of sleep, and this is not it. He thinks he might have a fever, but he doesn’t want Sakura fussing over him. Just the thought of someone touching him right now makes his skin prickle and hurt. Every breath he takes sends a wave of nausea through his body and aggravates his head even further and his skin feels a tad too tight. His head feels like it's full of rocks, or maybe blocks of iron and something is trying to pull them out. He feels sick.

The monotonous whirring and the cool flow of air eventually lull him to sleep. It’s dreamless and dark, and when he wakes up to Prince’s cold hand on his forehead he feels even worse than before. A quick glance at the clock on the wall tells him he’s slept for maybe two hours, but now there’s also a stabbing pain in his head in addition to the nauseating pressure.

Rui’s eyes are close and intense, carefully studying Toki’s face. There's a slightly startled look to them, as if she wasn't expecting him to wake up, but she doesn't pull back until after a few seconds.

Toki doesn’t really have energy to react, so he closes his eyes again and channels the last remnants of his dwindling focus to ward off the pain rather than snap at Prince.

Rui doesn’t move, though. Her presence stays beside Toki, radiating heat and authority. Because even though Toki is reluctant to admit that anyone has authority over him, he also recognizes that Rui holds authority over everything and everyone she lays her eyes upon.

The one single exception would be his father.

It’s clear that Rui isn’t just going to leave him alone. Toki also knows that he isn’t going to give in and actually admit aloud how horrible he actually feels. It’s a game he doesn’t really have any energy to play, this battle of the wills he knows he’s going to lose, but he clenches his fists and does anyway.

The clock tick-tock-ticks on the wall, the sound amplified in the otherwise silent room, and neither of them does anything. Rui’s presence doesn’t move, and Toki keeps his eyes closed and head on the table.

Eventually, to Toki’s surprise, it’s Rui who gives in. First she shifts, one leg moving from the previous cross-legged position to in front of her, and sets her wrist on her knee. Toki cracks an eye open, just barely but enough to see what she’s doing.

There’s another moment of silence, during which Rui leans back and cranes her neck, and Toki tenses in anticipation. He knows he’s going to lose this.

“Toki,” Rui finally starts, her voice too loud in the quiet space. It stabs at Toki’s head, straight through his ears and eyes directly into his brain and it takes all the self-control he has not to show how much a two-syllable word just made him want to die of pain. Instead, he makes a noncommittal grunt that could probably be interpreted as “yeah?” or something similar.

“How long have you been sick?” she continues.

“I’m not,” he mumbles, the response automatic to such a question. Rui’s expression reveals she doesn’t believe him for a second.

She goes for a different tactic than Toki anticipated. Instead of arguing with him and insisting on it, she looks him in the eyes and, very slowly, drawls, “Really.”

Then she practically jumps up, the motion looking way too easy for Toki. The act of clenching his fists requires too much energy. He’s slightly terrified at what Prince has in mind, now, because he was fully expecting an argument along the lines of am not and are too.

He’s almost hoping she would leave him alone, but no. He’s not that lucky, because the second he decides that it’s safe to close his eyes again, Rui cracks her back and opens her mouth.

“Get up,” she tells him, and it’s that moment when Toki knows he’s royally screwed. He’s exhausted, he’s in pain and he’s fairly sure his knees will betray him the second he even attempts standing up. He’s fairly sure his stomach will do the same thing and the end result will be him on the floor throwing his guts up.

Somewhere at the back of his head there’s a small voice of hope, though. Maybe, just maybe he could make it to his room. If he manages to actually get up from the floor where he’s been sitting for the past few hours and walk down the hallway, he’ll be in his room without people trying to fuss over him, actually lying down and under a blanket.

That is, in the case that Prince actually lets him leave just like that.

That is, in the case he actually manages to get up.

He tries, anyway. His arms are already screaming in pain even though he knows he’s taken his painkillers today, and the simple act of bracing his hands on the edge of the table and putting weight on his arms is almost enough to send his stomach up his throat. The pain from them explodes near his elbows and travels right down to his fingertips and up to his shoulders and neck, and he has to take a second to draw a deep breath or two.

Rui observes him all the while, not offering her help or saying anything. However, the second time he almost crashes right into the table, she does move a little closer. On the third try he gets his knees under him.

His hands are shaking against the wood. His arms are shaking, his shoulders, legs, everything is shaking and he’s suddenly freezing, a cold wave washing over him and paralyzing his lungs on its way.

The next thing he knows, there’s a hand on his left shoulder, blue hair at the edge of his vision that’s now blurring quite worryingly, jumbled-up words in his ear barely audible through the sudden rush of blood that drowns out everything else. Numb, his arms feel numb, he can't feel his fingers, the awful tingling sensation spreads all over his body and Prince’s voice in his ears grows louder and-

He’s going to pass out. Here, now, in the middle of the ratty kitchen of the Shibuya Mansion with Hachiouji Rui gripping his shoulder and no one having any idea what exactly is happening or why.

Black spots flood his vision, blocking the blue of Rui’s hair, and he gives in to the pull of nothingness.

An airy whimper leaves Toki’s lips and the boy goes limp. Rui manages to catch him before his head hits the table, fast reflexes reacting before she’s even aware of her arms moving.

She realizes she’s still shouting Toki’s name when she hears a rush of footsteps from the hallway. Yuuki’s red hair appears first and Ogami isn’t far behind, both looking like they’re prepared to fight, but the sight in front of them stops them short. Ogami’s posture deflates quickly and he freezes at the door, but Yuuki moves towards the centre of the room. He stops a few steps away.

“What’s wrong with Fourth?” he asks, crouching down and crossing his arms on his knees. Ogami takes a few tentative steps closer, too.

Careful with the deadweight in her arms, Rui gently lowers Toki’s body to the floor. She barely spares a glance at the boys, instead focusing on the fact that Toki’s skin feels warm, way, way too warm, while his hands feel like they’re freezing. She’s about to move to lift his feet higher when Toki groans.

A blue eye cracks open, quickly followed by a brown one and the hazy look on Toki’s face indicates that he has no idea what’s going on. He’s pale, the dark circles under his eyes contrasting his ghostly complexion further, and there’s a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead.

Ogami steps quietly closer and crouches down much like Yuuki, though he lets his other knee rest on the floor. There’s no irritation in Toki’s eyes, no unspoken out of my personal space or what the fuck are you doing, and the lethargy is quite worrying.

However, the second Ogami’s hand moves toward Toki’s face, there’s a hand around his wrist and sudden defiance on Toki’s face. There’s a flash of pain, too, and Ogami glances at Toki’s hand to find it shaking.

“Hands off,” Toki growls, voice rough and tight, and Ogami retreats his hand the second Toki lets go of it. He’s not going to start a fight now, not when Toki doesn’t stand a chance, not when he’s sick and still injured, so he doesn’t shoot back even though he usually would. He doesn’t move away, though - Toki can glare at him all he wants, but the feverish glow in his eyes dulls the effect considerably. Ogami glances at Rui instead.

It comes as no surprise that Rui has better luck in regards of checking Toki’s fever. The frown on her face tells everything that needs to be known, but she still orders Yuuki to go find a thermometer.

Toki’s dull eyes follow the movement in the room slowly. His breathing sounds labored, wrong for a trained assassin, and the tremor in his hands tells tales of things Ogami would rather not think about.

Then there’s a twitch.

All the color, what little of it was left, drains from Toki’s face. There’s a quiet, distressed sound that Ogami is pretty sure just came out of Toki’s throat even though he’s never heard the other boy making any sound akin to that even in his Lost form, not when both of his arms were in casts and slings and he could barely move his fingers, not when he was Lost and couldn’t use his arms.

Heterochromic eyes grow wide and Ogami realizes.

He has Toki turned on his side in mere seconds, time not allowing him to watch how he does it even though he’s sure everything hurts Toki’s arms. He’s not a second too early, and at least Toki is not lying on his right side (the shoulder, the goddamn shoulder).

Toki gags and his limbs instinctively move closer to his torso, knees coming closer to his chest and arms, still shaking, curling around his stomach. Rui is moving, her hands pulling strands of blond hair away from Toki’s face, and Ogami moves back. It’s not like he can do anything, now - he’s just glad Prince knows how human contact works. Or any of this, really.

Rui murmurs something Ogami doesn’t quite catch, her voice low and soothing. Toki coughs and then gags again, and Prince continues talking to him.

Even she, however, isn’t allowed to touch more than necessary. She tries to place her hand between Toki’s shoulder blades, but the flinch she gets in response makes her reel back. It’s not an outright “don’t touch” like what Ogami received for even trying, but it’s enough of an indication of discomfort for Rui to let it go.

Toki heaves and retches, and somewhere in there is a horrible whimper, and Rui isn’t sure if it’s because of the nausea or the pain.

Because Toki is definitely in pain.

She doesn’t have time to finish that train of thought, though, because the next thing she knows the contents of Toki’s stomach are spilling on the floor and his body convulses. And screw it, she decides - Toki is getting a supportive hand on his back whether he wants it or not.

Toki’s entire body is shaking from exertion, exhaustion, pain, something, and all Rui can do is rub his back and try to talk him through it as he hacks up another bout of sick. She’s pretty sure there are tears in his eyes, though they are squeezed shut.

There’s a soft noise as Yuuki enters the room again, and Rui hopes he has the thermometer she asked for, but right now it’s not really important. What’s important right now is that Toki doesn’t choke on his own vomit, because that would be a very lame way for a Code:Breaker to go, and that he hopefully won’t pass out again.

Time passes, though she doesn’t know how much of it, and finally Toki seems to calm down, if only enough to take a decent breath instead of the shallow wheezing. He’s still shaking badly, and Rui doesn’t really expect him to stop anytime soon. Sweat is beading at his hairline and his whole body is tense, fingers curling inwards but not exactly forming a fist.

When she’s sure Toki isn’t going to throw up anymore, Rui finally rolls him on his back. It’s a good thing Rei had reacted fast, but she still doesn’t like the fact that Toki was lying on his arm like that. He can claim that his arms are fine as many times as he wants, but they’re still bandaged and it’s still a lie. It’s been just days since the casts were removed.

“Rei,” she calls without really looking at his direction. Ogami’s head perks up. “Help me get Toki to his room.” Toki makes a disgruntled noise that turns into a cough, and this time Rui lifts him into a sitting position, rather than rolls him back on his side. “Now’s the time to swallow your pride,” she tells him. Of course she gets that Rei helping Toki is not the most ideal situation for either of them, but Yuuki is a good deal shorter than him.

It’s rare to see Rei so careful with something, Rui thinks when Ogami moves to the other side of Toki. Especially with his long-standing rival she doesn’t think she’s ever seen such display of tenderness. Maybe he feels a bit guilty about the stab-wound in Toki’s shoulder, though she would have never imagined him having actual human emotions.

Maybe it’s Sakura’s influence, Rui muses.

Getting up from the floor is difficult, to say the least. Toki’s knees give out before they’re even standing, and he goes alarmingly gray with the motion. Trying to spare Toki’s arms is another difficult task, and in the end Ogami hoists him up and carries him bridal-style to his room. Toki doesn’t protest beyond the surprised, hoarse yelp when his feet are suddenly lifted up.

He’s lighter than Ogami remembers. Not light like Yuuki and his skinny, 15-year-old body, but still lighter than Ogami remembers him being the last time they fought, and that was only a few weeks ago. It’s not like he’s worried, not really, because he doesn’t particularly care about Toki besides the fact that he’s annoying, but the uncomfortable tug in his chest is still there.

Maneuvering his way through the narrow hallways isn’t easy, even with Prince’s help, and neither is lowering Toki onto his futon once they finally reach his room. If Toki was in a better condition, Ogami would seriously consider just dropping him unceremoniously on the floor and walking away.

If Toki was in a better condition, he wouldn’t be carrying him in the first place.

Yuuki trails after them, his bare feet shuffling close behind and the thermometer still in his hands. He settles in a corner of Toki’s room, drawing his knees close to his chest in a manner that tells he’ll probably be upside down in minutes.

After the quick check-up Rui performs on Toki’s arms, as well as a brief look at his ribs, she finally retrieves the thermometer and promptly sticks it under Toki’s armpit. She sends Ogami to gather a bowl of water and a clean rag of some sort, and sits down next to Toki.

He’s not shaking anymore, but he’s not doing anything else, either. His eyes are open and his head is turned to Rui’s direction, but they’re unfocused and dazed.

Ogami is back before the thermometer beeps, which is slightly concerning.

When it finally does, Yuuki nearly jumps at his place in the corner, and Toki flinches. Rui frowns at the high number of 39.2 degrees Celsius and sets the damp cloth Rei brought on Toki’s forehead.

She doesn’t realize Rei has brought something else, too, until he starts wrapping ice packs in towels and setting them on Toki’s arms. She allows herself a little smile at the scene - Rei has difficulties showing his feelings, but he does really care.

As the darkness outside begins to set in, Rui gently shoos Ogami and Yuuki out of the room. Toki has fallen asleep, but she wants to watch over him a little longer. His brow is furrowed in what she assumes is pain, or perhaps fever dreams, and she doesn’t feel comfortable leaving him alone just yet. The three-year difference in their ages seems much bigger right now than it usually does - Toki looks so very young without his cocky grin or the revenge in his eyes. Not as young as his Lost form, of course, because his Lost form is a child, but right now seventeen seems like an awfully young age.

“Get better, Fourth,” Yuuki mumbles from the door, half-asleep, before Ogami quietly closes it.

[strawberista]

The last statement brought a laugh from the other, bubbling up like a child who'd just been told the sky was actually green. The statement was just as silly to him.

"Me, a protagonist?" He barked back jovially. "No way. I play my role in the stories of other protagonists. Not really the other way around. Things have just been hectic for my people, yeah? That's all it was. But... Everyone is getting better now. And I don't have as much of a wanderlust as I used to."

That was a half-truth, at least. Of course he still wanted new experiences, to meet new people. He wanted to discover the things around him and he wasn't sure he would ever be able to fully kill the part of himself that wanted that.

But he these days he just didn't feel like it was necessary or even remotely worth the risk of leaving Shibuya alone. Joshua was still healing and learning how to exist independently from him. Abandonment was absolutely not an option, even if he put up and maintained a hundred wards around the whole city before he left. Maybe he could consider another vacation someday, but right now it just wasn't safe. And honestly, he didn't think he really cared if that day never came. He got visitors from other worlds often enough and he found beauty in his own surroundings every day.

"Besides, it's not like you're really one to talk," he continued. "I don't see you jumping around much at all, either. We're better with our cities. I don't need to know everything."

❝  i think yer gettin' there an' makin' progress but you still got a ways t' go. ❞ its cryptic, as usual from this hanekoma. ❝  dedication to yer city should be first an' foremost, sure.... but that don't mean you should confine yerself. it's knowin' how t' balance where you'll find yer peace. ❞

it wasn't unknown to him, how the other hanekoma self confined himself to try and keep from 'messing things up'. he hadn't- rather not with things in his parallel world. the other was still trying to find his way and was eccentric in seeing others like him and being in new places. he didn't know how or when was right to explore and for how long. he was a fledgling who had newly learned to fly. truth be told, he remembered that feeling well for himself when he first became producer. there were differences, of course, but there were parallel lines between them.

❝  theres a big world out there. lots of things t' see an' others you ain' even began t' fathom. you deserve t' see it all, but remember you still got work t' do. yer city would be lost without you. ❞

he leans on the counter to meet the others eye and flashes him a warm grin, before shrugging his shoulders. he wasn't great when it came to handling the human producers. it was leagues of him not knowing what was right to say or how to say it in a way. he didn't want to dictate the others life at all. he was his own man and could make his own choices. a variant of them with free will was as brilliant and stubborn as he knew it'd be.

❝  you've had a real poor example of how t' be producer in th' past, an' th higher plane ain' really done anything in yer branch t' help set you up for success. its no wonder th' wanderlust got you as bad as it does. yer practically th' protag in'a light novel with all this stuff goin' on. ❞