#Takakura Okarun x Female Reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seajellyfishie · 22 days ago

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Frequency, ch.1‧₊˚✩ ₊˚.📀 okarun/ken takakura x f!reader

synopsis: the sounds of the world have always been so loud, but maybe she's finally found someone to give her that peace and quiet

a/n: i noticed there weren't many okarun x reader books out there so i thought i might as well make one myself! Thanks for stopping by and while my writing isn't on the level of others i hope you still enjoy this fanfiction! i based reader's aesthetic and style off of this photo, so please bear with me as this will be my first "x reader" fanfic! tw: violence, allusions to nudity, cursing, and notify me if i missed anything!

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Monday. Morning. Sunny. ═══════════════════════════════════════

"(y/n), you little shit, get back here!!!"

"Aww~ Is big sis too slow to catch me?"

A shriek, a crash, and then the heavy thudding of someone barreling down the stairs two at a time. A girl with (s/c) skin and (h/c) hair—dyed red at the tips—burst from the stairwell, nearly tripping as she took a sharp right into the kitchen. Snatching her already-prepared bento off the counter, she sprinted past her mother, a pair of stolen shoes clutched in her hands.

"Have a good day at school, (y/n)! Ryuko!" their mother called after the two blurs of black and (h/c).

"Bye, Mom, love you!"

In one last strategic move, (y/n) darted into the living room, launching her sister’s shoes out of an open window before making a break for the door. The sound of her own laughter filled the air as Ryuko let out a cry of despair.

"You little fucking bitch!!"

"Ryuko, language!"

"Sorry, Mom!"

Still cackling, (y/n) shoved her feet into her shoes at the entryway and yanked the door open. Her dad was outside in the garden, tending to the plants. Flashing him a bright grin, she gave a quick wave before bolting down the path. Ryuko's head popped around the side of the house, her shoes barely on as she stumbled after her.

"Bye, Dad, love you!!" (y/n) shouted in a breathless blur.

Her father only laughed as she flew past. "You two be careful! Love you both!"

Wind whipped through her hair as she sprinted down the familiar streets, weaving past early morning shoppers. The scent of freshly baked bread filled her lungs as she let out another laugh, the pure rush of adrenaline keeping her feet light.

Then—ding-dong-ding-dong! The warning bells of the train crossing rang out. Without breaking stride, (y/n) tapped into her vibration acceleration, gliding past the descending guardrails just before they locked into place.

"You little shit!! You're lucky you have those powers or you'd be a splatter on the tracks!!" Ryuko hollered from the other side, stuck waiting for the train.

(y/n) just snickered, tossing her a wink before sticking out her tongue and jogging away.

She rolled her shoulders, letting the motion keep her momentum smooth. "Guess this counts as my run for the day." She fished out her chunky headphones, slipping them on before blasting her favorite playlist.

From there, the rest of the jog was peaceful.

═══════════════════════════════════════ Monday. Morning. Sunny. ═══════════════════════════════════════

Slowing to a walk as she arrived to the front of the school and watched as a girl tried and failed to deliver a nice kick to a guy's head. Unwrapping a cherry lollipop, (y/n) stuck it in her mouth as she trudged past the two, wincing when the girl took a kick to the stomach and hit the ground.

'Not my monkeys, not my circus.'

Picking up the pace she made it into the school and made her way to her shoe cubby. Flicking off her chunky sneakers, (y/n) swapped her sneakers for her school slippers, letting them drop to the floor before slipping them on.. As she did so, she lowered her music volume as that was the agreement she made with the teachers. As long as she was able to hear everything clearly and paid attention; (y/n) could keep her headphones on. Once her slippers were securely on and her audio lowered she shuffled off to her classroom, eyes lingering on the vending machines outside.

"Wonder if they have Pompi Grape back in stock." She muttered. Turning and sliding the door open, she walked to her seat in the second row from the door next to a boy with a bowl cut that was reading alien books.

"Ah! G-Good morning Miss (l/n)!" The boy jumped a little as she slumped in her seat and threw her leg up on her desk, the shorts she was wearing underneath her skirt protecting her from any pervs. Shoving her (h/c) and red tipped bangs out of her face she glanced over at her seatmate with a smile as she took the lollipop out of her mouth with a pop.

"Good morning, Ken-chan, how many times do I have to tell you to just call me (l/n)? Or even better call me (y/n)?"

"B-But that's so disrespectful!!" He strained covering his face with his hands. Although that didn't hide the red tips of his ears.

"Haa~ You really are just too cute-

"Eh!?"

"Fine, fine, you can call me whatever makes ya comfortable." She ruffled her hair, dropping her hand and smirking as she watched the little nerd heat up even more before going back to burying his face in the book. With a hum, she slipped her hand into her crossed her arms before falling into a light sleep.

═══════════════════════════════════════

(y/n) jolted awake at the loud screech of chairs. Grumbling under her breath she glanced over her arms to see the school skirt and a pink cardigan pass her. Raising her head more she lifted her eyebrow seeing that it was the same girl from this morning.

SCREECH!

She whipped her head around just in time to see Ken-chan bolt after her.

A pause.

A blink.

'What the hell?'

Rolling her eyes, (y/n) pulled out her phone to look up any ghostly sighting that were gaining popularity. People were always getting dared to wander into a yokai’s territory—then ending up with a snapped neck. Not exactly an ideal death for them or the family. Scrolling through t/yokai she found an interesting story that's quickly gaining popularity called The Twitching Marionette.

"Well, well... what do we have here."

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t/yokai ●1 week ago Forgotten_Threads87

The Twitching Marionette at the Kamigoe Lantern Theatre

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Okay, before anyone writes this off as some urban legend, let me just say, I’ve had my fair share of weird experiences, and this one… this one’s different.

A few weeks ago, I was looking into some abandoned theaters in my area. Most of them were closed down years ago, some even decades ago, but one really caught my eye. It was called The Kamigoe Lantern Theatre. I found it on an old map and decided to check it out. The place was supposed to have been a hotspot for performances back in the day, but interest in plays and dramas and what not (basically shit my mom would watch for her soaps) died out after a while, and it ended up falling into disrepair.

When I got there, it was like stepping into a different world. The building’s exterior was practically falling apart—cracked bricks, broken windows, and a marquee that had long lost its letters. I pushed through the creaky door and stepped into the main hall. It was dark and musty, but there was a strange feeling in the air, like I wasn’t alone. The walls were lined with old faded posters, all of them peeling away. It felt like time had stopped there.

So, I’m walking through the place, taking pictures, when I notice something strange near the stage. A dusty old marionette sitting off to the side, in the corner of the stage. Now, here’s the thing— you would think this thing would be in as much disrepair as the rest of the place, but the only thing weird about it were its wooden limbs which were twisted at odd angles, as if it was the only thing that had been maintained even though this place hadn’t been touched in years. But there was something unsettling about it, besides the condition. It wasn’t just sitting there. It was… twitching.

At first, I thought it was just the wind, or maybe the place settling. But the more I watched, the more I realized that it wasn’t the wind. It was moving on its own. Very small, twitchy movements, like someone was pulling its strings—except there was no one there. I thought it was probably just some sort of weird old prop rigged to move, so I ignored it at first.

But then, something happened. I took a step closer, and as soon as I did, my body just locked up. My limbs started twitching. Not in a way I could control—like I was a puppet. I tried to move, tried to scream, but it was like my body was being yanked by invisible strings. It felt like something inside me was trying to control me.

I could barely keep my balance, stumbling around like, well, a broken doll, trying to get away. That’s when I saw it. The marionette on stage—its movements weren’t so small anymore. It was jerking and twitching violently, like it was coming to life. The wooden face… I swear, it looked like it was grinning at me.

I didn’t stay long enough to see what happened next. I ran out of there as fast as I could, shaking like a leaf. And here’s the kicker: the next morning, I woke up and felt sore. It hurt so bad like I had just gone to soccer practice after 10 years and not only that...there were bruises encircling my wrists, ankles, thighs, waist, etc. Like strings had been wrapped around me, puppeteering me.

I haven’t gone back to the Kamigoe Lantern Theatre since, but I’ve heard stories about that place. Some say that marionette was once part of a performance by a puppeteer who went mad, trying to bring his dead daughter back to life by turning her into a puppet. He was obsessed with it, trying to make her move, but nothing has been clear. I've heard one of two things: the daughter did come back, but she was so far gone that she could no longer recognize her father or the father ended up fusing with the doll and now it moves out of desperation to complete the ritual. Now, it’s said that the marionette haunts the theater, looking for people to control, to sacrifice, and make them dance like broken dolls.

There are also stories about the people who’ve gone into that theater over the years—some say they’ve been caught in its grasp, unable to escape its control, forced to twitch and jerk until they collapse. There’s a rumor that if you hear a strange creaking, like the sound of puppet strings, it’s already too late.

If anyone here’s been to the Kamigoe Lantern Theatre or heard anything about it, let me know. Just… be careful if you do go. The Twitching Marionette isn’t something you want to mess with.

꩜13.5k threads 💭2.5k thoughts ➤Share

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Thoughts ╰┈➤GravyTrainExpress I’m not going anywhere near that place, man. That’s some Pet Sematary stuff. If a puppet ever starts moving on its own, I’m out! ꩜4.5k threads 💭1k thoughts ➤Share ╰┈➤LateNightWalker I was walking home past a shut-down puppet theater, and I SWEAR I heard footsteps behind me… but they weren’t matching mine. Turned around and saw nothing, but my legs started shaking outta nowhere. I'm not crazy, right??? ꩜543 threads 💭358 thoughts ➤Share ╰┈➤KenTakakurasLeftBallYou telling me I gotta worry about ghosts, aliens, AND a puppet demon that’ll hit me with the Twitchy Gritty™ until my bones snap??? Nah I’m out. ꩜9.9k threads 💭3k thoughts ➤Share ╰┈➤Spaghetti_Sloth Old theaters are creepy enough, but now we gotta worry about haunted puppets?? If I see a single marionette twitch, I'm drop-kicking it and running. ꩜854 threads 💭500 thoughts ➤Share ╰┈➤TacoKnight69 Why do horror creatures always have to move like they downloaded a virus?? The Twitching Marionette out here moving at 2 FPS but still catching bodies. ꩜670 threads 💭258 thoughts ➤Share

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Crunching on the candy in her mouth, (y/n) smirked as she finished reading the post on Threadster. Looks like a little trip to Kamigoe Lantern Theatre is in order tonight.

'If not only to save dumbasses from themselves.'

Ken-chan returned fist clenched, shoulders back, looking more determined than she's ever seen and a few moments later the teacher strolled in.

═══════════════════════════════════════ Monday. Evening. Clear. ═══════════════════════════════════════

The rich, savory aroma of curry filled the dining room as Kasumi (l/n) set a steaming pot on the table. The golden sauce shimmered under the light, thick with chunks of tender meat, potatoes, and carrots. A pot of freshly steamed rice sat beside it, ready to be served. Ryuko was already reaching for a ladle, her stomach audibly growling.

“Patience, Ryuko,” Kasumi chided, though the fondness in her voice was unmistakable.

“Patience is for people who aren’t starving,” Ryuko said, shamelessly scooping a hefty portion onto her plate before grinning at their father. “Right, Dad?”

Toshiaki (l/n), a man with salt-and-pepper hair and an easygoing smile, sighed dramatically. “You know, when I was younger, my hair was the color of the finest black ink. But then I had two daughters, and now…” He ran a hand through his graying strands, shaking his head. “I look like I’m preparing for retirement.”

(y/n) snorted, reaching for the rice bowl. “You’re acting like you’ve suffered, Dad.”

“Suffered? No, no, I have endured,” Toshiaki declared, placing a dramatic hand over his heart. “Two daughters, one of whom constantly sneaks food before dinner, and the other who—” He narrowed his eyes at (y/n) playfully. “—fights demons and ghosts like she’s in a shounen anime.”

Kasumi shook her head with a sigh, though a small smile played at her lips. “I swear, you encourage them too much.”

“Oh, come on,” Ryuko said, smirking as she scooped a second helping onto her plate. “It’s not that bad. Besides, Dad’s got Mom to balance him out.”

"Oh my god, you fucking pig, how did you finish that fast-"

"Shut the hell up, (y/n)."

Kasumi raised an eyebrow at the two. “Yes, and I am the only reason this family hasn’t descended into chaos.”

(y/n) chuckled, setting down her spoon. “Speaking of chaos… I’m going to handle an exorcism this evening. The Twitching Marionette.”

The room went silent for half a second before Toshiaki let out a low whistle, grabbing his cup of sake. “That’s the one in the old Kamigoe Lantern Theatre, right?”

(y/n) nodded. “Yeah. I’ve done some research, and it doesn’t seem too dangerous—just creepy. I should be able to handle it.”

Kasumi frowned, resting her chin on her hand. “I don’t like the sound of that should.”

Ryuko smirked. “I dunno, Mom. I think ‘Creepy Puppet Theatre’ sounds like a fun time.”

Kasumi sighed, shaking her head with a small smile. “Well, if you’re so interested, maybe you should be the one exorcising it.”

Ryuko held up her hands in surrender. “Nah, I’m good. I’ll leave the ghostbusting to our resident shrine maiden.”

Clicking her tongue, (y/n) elbowed her elder sister in the side.

Toshiaki leaned back, rubbing his chin. “Well, if you’re confident, I won’t stop you. But you know the rules—no unnecessary risks.”

“No solo heroics,” Kasumi added firmly.

(y/n) nodded. “I know, I know. I promise I’ll be careful.”

Toshiaki smiled but leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table. “And you’re bringing your katana, right?”

(y/n) smirked. “Obviously. You’d never let me hear the end of it if I didn’t.”

“You’re damn right I wouldn’t,” he said, pointing his chopsticks at her. “What did I tell you? A katana isn’t just about cutting—it’s about control, precision, and knowing when not to strike.”

(y/n) rolled her eyes. “You’ve also told me that if I lose my stance for even a second, I’ll be eating floorboards before I can react.”

Kasumi sighed. “That’s because you have eaten floorboards, dearest.”

Ryuko laughed. “Oh man, the dojo incident?”

(y/n) groaned. “Can we not bring that up?”

Ryuko clasped her hands together in prayer, "She came back with one less tooth on that fine spring afternoon." As vengeance (y/n) snatched one of the pieces of meat off her plate. "Oi!"

"At least it was a baby tooth..." (y/n) mumbled, munching on the tender meat.

Toshiaki chuckled, leaning back. “That’s how you learn. I spent years drilling footwork and swings before I even got my hands on a real blade. Trust me, I took more hits than I can count. But you’ve been improving.” He gave her an approving nod. “Just don’t forget your center of balance. A weak stance makes you easy to knock over.”

(y/n) smirked. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine.”

Toshiaki smiled. “Good. Because I’d really prefer not to gain any more gray hairs this week.”

(y/n) grinned. “No promises.”

Kasumi sighed again, shaking her head. “I am the only sane one in this house.”

Ryuko grinned, lifting her spoon. “And we love you for it.”

With that, the lighthearted conversation resumed, the warmth of the family dinner pushing away any lingering tension, the comforting taste of curry filling the room.

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(y/n) was outside securing the bags on her motorcycle making sure she had her bandages, ointments, and other medical supplies. Toshiaki hadn't starting teaching her about seals yet due to kendo finals coming up for his students, so she had to work with what she had.

Ryuko opened the door waltzing out with a pocky stick hanging out of her mouth. In her arms she had multiple lemon flavored Aquarius'.

"Thought you could use something for after the battle." Smiling softly, she took a few of the bottles from Ryuko's hands and placed them in the saddlebags.

"Thanks, I appreciate it, save me some of mom's macarons for when I get back, yeah?"

"I don't know~ Ya take too long I may eat those and her next batch."

"You're an absolute fucking glutton, I have know idea where you keep it all." Ryuko patted (y/n)'s shoulder with a solemn nod.

"Truly proving me to be the better daughter, you simply weren't worthy of such beauty~" Cackling as she swiftly dodged a swipe from her younger sister, she collected (y/n) into a tight hug which the younger returned.

It was chilly that night, but even though her muscles were tense (y/n) could feel the warmth of Ryuko melt away all of the nerves she had for the upcoming battle. It was always a risk. Her whole family knew it, but (y/n) would be damned if she had a power to help and didn't use it, no matter how much of a hassle it was.

But...even still, she couldn't be more grateful to her family for understanding. Her mother was, of course, still worried that would never change, and her father showed his worry through training her rigorously in swordplay, and Ryuko? Well, she didn't change that much other than being more affectionate before (y/n) galivanted off to whatever yokai she was going to kill next.

Pulling away the two smiled at each other Ryuko stroking (y/n)'s hair one last time before she let go.

"Get home safe, 'kay?"

"'Kay."

═══════════════════════════════════════ Monday. Night. Partly Cloudy. ═══════════════════════════════════════

The Kamigoe Theatre leered over her as she came to a stop, flicking her kickstand out. Swinging her leg over her boot hit the ground with a solid 'thunk'. Adjusting her black and red bomber jacket by bringing it closer to her she took a final swig of the coffee she had gotten along the way.

"God, why'd this stupid fucking thing have to be in such a creepy ass place? The fuck do I look like a vampire hunter or some shit?" She muttered to herself, taking off her jacket leaving her in a black tight fitting tank top, military green cargos, and black boots. She grabbed the handle of her katana fiddling with the frayed strings feeling the sheath move against her lower back.

(y/n) looked around the area to see if there were any other large buildings nearby that could attract anymore possible problems. Spotting 'Nagi Hospital' in the distance she let out an annoyed groan.

"I swear to the heavens above, if aliens are real and I have to deal with them today, I will send Kamigoe city in havoc."

Huffing she tossed her hair into a ponytail and started towards the theatre tuning into the frequencies' in the air as she got closer.

"Welp, it's showtime."

The Kamigoe Lantern Theatre stood silent, its grand past buried beneath dust and decay. The faded banners of old productions still clung stubbornly to the walls, their colors long since drained by time. The chandeliers above swayed slightly, though there was no wind.

(y/n) stepped onto the wooden stage, her boots making a soft creak against the aged planks. Even without her abilities, she could feel something was off. The air thrummed with an unnatural frequency—low, grating, wrong. It made her teeth itch, like a radio stuck between stations.

She rolled her shoulders, fingers tightening around her sword’s grip. "Alright," she muttered. "Show yourself, freak."

The silence stretched, thick and heavy.

Then—tick-tick-tock.

A slow, unnatural clicking sound, like stiff joints snapping into place. The stage curtains shuddered slightly, as though something just beyond them was stirring. (y/n)’s muscles tensed. Her eyes flicked to the shadows along the rafters, the balcony, the orchestra pit. She knew better than to expect a normal entrance.

A sudden lurch—the curtains yanked violently to the side, revealing the grotesque figure standing behind them.

The Twitching Marionette.

Its body was tall, unnaturally thin, with limbs that seemed too long for its frame. Its joints jerked in sudden, erratic movements, as if an unseen puppeteer was struggling to control it. Its head lolled to one side before snapping upright, hollow sockets locking onto her with eerie precision. Its entire body twitched and spasmed, like an old VHS skipping frames.

Then, without warning, it charged.

(y/n) barely had time to react before the Marionette glitched forward, skipping across space in a rapid burst of motion. One second it was at the back of the stage—the next, right in front of her.

She twisted to the side, just narrowly avoiding the jagged, claw-like fingers that swiped at her throat. Her sword came up in an instinctive counterattack, slashing clean through the empty air as the Marionette contorted backward in an unnatural dodge, its spine bending at a grotesque angle before it flipped away, limbs twitching erratically.

(y/n) exhaled sharply. 'Fast.'

But she was faster.

Sword stabbed into the ground; she clapped her hands together, sending a rippling frequency wave outward. She had identified the weakening vibration for The Twitching Marionette as she entered the theatre. Thankfully, she was able to use it to her advantage. The invisible pulse collided with the Marionette mid-lunge, distorting its momentum and knocking it off-balance. It skidded across the stage, its body flickering like a corrupted video file before it twisted upright again.

The yokai’s head cocked at an unnatural angle. Then, it lifted both arms—and the entire theater responded.

From the orchestra pit, from the empty seats, from the shadows—puppet strings erupted, thin, glistening threads that shimmered in the dim light. They latched onto the abandoned props and mannequins scattered across the stage, yanking them up like possessed marionettes. The once-lifeless figures twitched violently, their limbs moving in erratic, grotesque motions.

(y/n) clicked her tongue. A smirk spreading across her lips, "Shit, that's so cool!"

The possessed puppets lunged.

She moved before they could reach her, enhancing her speed with the frequencies around as she weaved between their jerky, disjointed attacks. A mannequin’s wooden arm came swinging at her head—she ducked, pivoted, and drove her knee into its midsection, shattering it into splinters. Another one clawed at her from behind—she grabbed her sword and twisted, her blade humming as she slashed through its torso in a clean, vibrating arc.

The Twitching Marionette twitched violently, its body flickering as it started phasing across the stage, teleporting short distances in broken, jarring skips. The air around it warped with distorting sound and motion.

(y/n)’s heartbeat quickened as her equilibrium wavered.

The world warbled—her hearing muffled, her balance thrown off as if gravity itself had been tampered with. The floor beneath her felt unsteady, like she was standing on a speaker blasting the wrong frequency.

'Damn—it's messing with my inner balance.'

The Marionette phased again, skipping forward in another erratic burst. This time, (y/n) was just a fraction too slow—

A clawed hand raked across her side.

"Fuck, you son of a bitch!!"

Pain flared as her tank top tore, a thin line of warmth spreading against her skin. She hissed, gritting her teeth, but refused to slow down. She planted her foot, twisting sharply as she brought her sword up in a rising arc.

Her blade sang.

The vibrating edge struck the Marionette's arm, severing it at the joint. The detached limb twitched violently before crumbling into dust. The yokai screeched, its body convulsing as it glitched again, phasing in and out of existence.

(y/n) clenched the sword hilt. 'Time to end this.'

She focused—pulling in every loose frequency in the air, every vibration, every soundwave humming within the broken-down theater. Her body buzzed with energy as she gathered it all into a single, concentrated point.

Then—

She snapped her fingers.

The resulting shockwave blasted outward in a forceful, concussive ripple. The wooden planks of the stage cracked, the old chandeliers swayed violently, and the very walls of the theater groaned under the force of the impact.

The Marionette shrieked as the wave hit it head-on. Its body fractured, twitching violently as the strings that held it together snapped one by one. It lurched forward, its hollow sockets still fixated on her—

Then, with one final spasm, its form collapsed into a heap of motionless limbs.

Silence.

(y/n) let out a slow breath, rolling her sore shoulder. “Creepy bastard.” She flicked her blade, shaking off the lingering energy before powering down her abilities.

She turned toward the exit, ready to leave this cursed theater behind.

But as she stepped off the stage—

Tick.

Tock.

She froze.

Behind her, the pile of broken limbs twitched violently, spasming once—twice—before a single, gleaming thread slithered out from the wreckage.

(y/n) didn’t look back.

Instead, she sighed and rolled her shoulders. “Alright then,” she muttered, raising her blade again.

Encore.

(y/n) stood over the pile of shattered wood and string, hands clasped in prayer. "Rest in peace," she muttered, her voice hoarse as she turned and began walking out of the now-silent theatre. Her side and head were bleeding, clothes tattered, and heavens above, she was sore as hell.

"I need dad to bless my sword again sometime soon," she murmured to herself, sheathing the weapon with a soft, metallic scrape. "I think the blessing is waning again."

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a cold, silver light over the empty street. It was definitely past midnight at this point. She made her way to her motorcycle, her every step feeling heavier, as though gravity had increased tenfold since the fight began.

Sitting down on the seat, she pulled out the ointments and bandages from her saddlebags, the sharp scent of antiseptic burning her nostrils. She grimaced, already dreading the process of cleaning her wounds.

Her hands, still trembling from the aftershocks of the battle, fumbled as she unscrewed the bottle of alcohol. With a deep breath, she pressed the cotton ball against her side. The burn was sharp, immediate, and she hissed, her grip tightening on the bottle. Her hands shook more violently now, making it harder to hold the cotton in place. She cursed under her breath, frustrated with her body's weakness.

"I shouldn't be like this. I’ve trained in swordplay. Why the hell is my body betraying me now?" The thought made her clench her jaw, frustration bubbling up inside her. The swordwork her dad had drilled into her over the years was supposed to make her stronger, faster, more precise. So why did it always feel like she was scraping by when the real fights started?

The alcohol burned like fire, and the sting of the ointment made her teeth grind together. She winced as she wrapped the bandages tightly around her torso. Her hands shook even more, making the process more difficult than it should have been. The fight had drained her physically and mentally, but this... this was a reminder that her power—whatever it was—was taking everything from her, piece by piece.

Her vision blurred slightly as she finished wrapping the last bandage, and she blinked hard to push the dizziness away. "I just need a moment. Just a second…" she whispered to herself, letting her head drop back onto the seat of her bike. The cool night air was a slight relief, but it did little to dull the fatigue in her bones.

"I can't keep going like this," she muttered, frustrated, her chest tight with a familiar ache. It wasn't just her body—her powers, whatever they were, were becoming harder to control, harder to manage. Whether it be because she was getting stronger or some other reason. She'd been running on adrenaline for far too long. Her dad had always warned her about overextending herself, but what choice did she have? She couldn't sit idly by while people were in danger.

But she couldn’t keep this up forever. She just... couldn't.

Her fingers twitched again, still trembling, as she wiped away the sweat on her brow. "Maybe resting my eyes a bit won’t hurt..." she mumbled. She needed to recharge, even if it was just for a moment. Her body and mind were screaming for rest, but she knew the battle wasn’t over yet.

And so, with a shaky sigh, she let her eyes close, her body sinking into the warmth of her motorcycle seat. Maybe just a few minutes.

KABOOM!!!

The shockwave from the explosion hit her like a punch to the chest. Her eyes snapped open, her (h/c) hair whipping around as she shot upright.

"WHAT THE HELL?!?" She whipped her head toward the direction of Nagi Hospital. A brilliant flash of light cut through the dark sky, and her heart dropped into her stomach.

"There's absolutely no fucking shot that's a UFO."

Her breath hitched in her chest as her body sprang into action before her brain could catch up. Scrambling to her feet, she clambered onto her bike with a sense of urgency. Her hands, still shaky from the battle, worked quickly to turn the ignition, lift the kickstand, and hit the gas. She was off, the engine roaring to life beneath her as she sped toward Nagi Hospital, barely registering the streetlights blurring past.

As the adrenaline kicked in, a new thought hit her: how the absolute hell was she going to explain to her parents that aliens were real? Because at this point, she was sure as hell going to see one up close. And when she did, she'd need an even better excuse than the last time she'd been late—one that didn't involve fighting yokai or saving the day.

She gritted her teeth and pushed the thought aside. Right now, the only thing that mattered was getting to Nagi Hospital. Whatever that explosion was, it wasn’t something she could ignore.

═══════════════════════════════════════ Tuesday. Night. Partly Cloudy. ═══════════════════════════════════════

(y/n) rode through the dimly lit tunnel leading to Nagi Hospital, the rumble of her motorcycle echoing off the walls. She exhaled sharply. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be any cops or military personnel poking around—she wasn’t in the mood to explain why she was tearing through the streets at this hour.

As she emerged from the tunnel, the hospital came into view. It had clearly taken a hit—smoke still curled from the upper floors, and the streetlights flickered, barely clinging to life. The place looked like a war zone.

And then she saw them.

A little off to the side, two people stood near the wreckage, both looking worse for wear. As soon as she pulled up, their heads snapped toward her, eyes wide as if they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t.

(y/n) frowned. Wait a second…

She recognized them.

Pulling off her helmet and shaking out her (h/c) hair, she raised an eyebrow. "Ken-chan? The girl from school?"

The girl stared blankly at her, then narrowed her eyes slightly in thought. "Who’s this?"

Ken, looking both tired and strangely wired, opened his mouth, but (y/n) beat him to it. "I’m in Ken-chan's class. (l/n). (l/n) (y/n). You can call me (y/n), though."

Momo snapped her fingers. "Right, I’ve seen you around. Weren’t you the one sitting next to Occult-kun?" She pointed at Ken.

(y/n) smirked at the amusing nickname. "Yeah, that’s right. What about you? I saw you protect Ken-chan, but I don’t know much about you." She tilted her head, noticing that Momo was wearing nothing but Ken's jacket.

"Momo Ayase," the girl replied. "You can call me Momo."

(y/n) dismounted her bike, putting the kickstand down and kneeling to rummage through her saddlebags. She pulled out spare clothes and a couple of water bottles and held them out to her classmates. Momo hesitated, still holding her palms toward Ken, for some reason.

"Uh, I can't..." Momo grimaced, turning slightly away from her.

"Alright, I’ll bite—what the hell happened here?"

Ken perked up but not for the reason (y/n) expected. "Aliens!" His eyes sparkled, despite his exhaustion. "I knew they existed! I was right! Totally right!"

(y/n) blinked. "Aliens?"

"Yeah!" Ken grinned, his excitement overriding his battered state. "Like, actual grays! Momo got abducted, and I saw them!! Although it was pretty horrifying..."

(y/n) looked at Momo for confirmation.

Momo sighed. "Unfortunately, he’s not lying. There were aliens. And a yokai. And explosions. It was a lot."

(y/n) squinted at Ken. "And you survived all that?"

Ken shrugged, suddenly looking more hesitant. "Uh, kinda? I’m still technically possessed by Turbo Granny, so—"

(y/n) blinked. "You’re what now?"

Ken sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah. She’s... still in there."

Momo jumped in, clearly annoyed. "The only way to keep her at bay is for me to use my psychic powers so she doesn’t fully take him over." She glared at Ken. (y/n) stood in stunned silence for a moment.

'Oh, this is some dumbass shit right here.'

"You don’t believe us," Ken said, his gaze dropping.

"No, no, it’s not that," (y/n) said quickly, stepping back. "I 100% believe you, but…" She let out a breath. "That’s deeply unsettling, and also you both probably brought this upon yourselves."

The both flinched not looking at her.

Ken, looking incredibly miserable, just nodded.

Momo sighed dramatically. "So, I’ve gotta keep his curse under control with my psychic powers, or else he’ll go wild. Not to mention, my wallet, my phone, and my uniform are all gone." (y/n) caught the silent crocodile tears falling down Momo’s face. (What a way to avoid the accusation-)

(y/n) hummed thoughtfully, considering her options. "I could take over for you, if need be."

Momo stared at her in shock before laughing in disbelief. "You did hear what I said, right? Psychic powers—not just anybody can do it. Plus, if I take my eyes off him for even a second, we’re both dead."

(y/n) raised an eyebrow, her (e/c) eyes narrowing at Momo. "I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t know what I was doing. I know you just met me, but a little trust wouldn’t hurt."

(y/n) reached into her pants pocket, pulling out a small tuning fork. She struck it against her palm, and a low, resonating hum filled the air. The vibrations lingered, distorting the space around them. She held the tuning fork against Ken's forehead.

"Lower your hands, Momo."

"But—"

"Trust me."

Momo’s expression twisted, but she reluctantly lowered her hands. Turbo Granny took the opportunity to surge forward, beginning to take over Ken’s body.

"H-Help!!!"

"Didn't I tell yo—"

"Harmonic Disruption!" The yokai’s presence receded immediately. The connection to Ken’s body loosened, although (y/n) knew Turbo Granny would be back to cause trouble soon enough. At least there was peace for now.

Momo’s jaw hung open. Ken, however, stared at her like she’d just told him Santa was real.

"No. Way," Ken breathed. "You’re a—"

(y/n) twirled the tuning fork between her fingers. "I’m a psychic. Now, get dressed, and both of you drink some water." She tossed clothes and a water bottle toward Momo before turning Ken around, who still looked utterly stunned.

"I-Is she gone for good, Miss (l/n)?"

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me (y/n)? And no, she’s not gone. I weakened her connection to you. For now, she won’t be able to take over."

Ken slumped his shoulders, letting out a miserable sigh.

"Then what should we do about getting rid of the curse?" Ken asked.

"Kick Turbo Granny's ass, obviously. She put it on you." Momo answered as she began putting on the clothes.

"I see. I’ll be leaving for a little while, then." (y/n) raised an eyebrow, confused. Momo moved in front of Ken, holding out his jacket.

"Huh?! Right now?? You do realize if neither of us stays with you, you'll go wild!" Ken took the jacket, shuffling away from the two girls, who exchanged confused glances. Momo, still holding her hand out, was trying to keep Turbo Granny at bay. (Though considering how powerful that yokai was, she’d likely be back soon.)

"It's my fault this happened... I can't let either of you get any more involved, Miss Ayase, Miss (l/n). I'll find some way to work up the courage to go to the tunnel. And then I’ll take care of this."

Shaking her head in fond exasperation, (y/n) rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Why can’t you just ask us to come with you? After everything you’ve both been through, it’s not like Momo can turn her back on this. Besides, this isn’t my first rodeo with a powerful yokai."

"Yeah! Besides, if I hadn’t been there, you would’ve died! Don’t you think we should work together?!" Momo placed one hand on her hip, glaring at the back of Ken’s head. Ken hunched over, scratching his head, clearly uncomfortable.

(y/n) smiled softly, a hand over her mouth as she stared at Ken. 'He’s kinda cute when he’s acting all shy.'

"Are you sure...? Even if you want to work with me..." Momo huffed, getting closer and kicking Ken lightly with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

"God, quit going on about it! C'mon, we’re going!" Ken scratched the back of his head, glancing away awkwardly.

"S-Sorry... I’m an awkward guy..." (y/n) blinked at his words.

'Not only is he named after him, but now he’s saying the same lines as him. This has to be some cruel joke from the heavens.'

(y/n) held back a snort, amused by the irony. She also noticed Momo tense up slightly, as though she, too, was becoming shy.

"By the way... what’s your name again?" Ken asked, feigning forgetfulness. "I’m not great with names, you see." That was total bullshit, and both (y/n) and Ken knew it.

"Uh, right, it’s Takakura Ken."

"No way!! I refuse to believe you!!" Momo exclaimed, causing both of the others to jump. Ken choked on his water at her outburst.

Glaring at her, Ken swallowed the water and adjusted his glasses. "I don’t understand what you mean. Whether you believe me or not... my name’s Takakura Ken."

"KYAAAA!!! STOOOOP!!!! I DON’T WANNA HEAR IT!!!!"

"CRAP!! THE CURSE!!!!"

(y/n) quickly yanked out her tuning fork and smacked Ken in the back of the head with it. "HARMONIC DISRUPTION!!"

A crater formed in the ground from the force of her strike. Wincing, she scratched the back of her head. "My bad..."

"Ah!! Sorry, I got carried away!" Momo snapped out of her fangirling moment, quickly pointing at Ken still lying in the crater.

"Lemme lay down some ground rules! Your name is off-limits!!"

(y/n) stared at Momo with an open mouth. "Ma'am, you need serious mental help."

"Shut it, (y/n)."

"Don’t worry, I’ll sign you up for a mental hospital. We’ll cure your fangirl sickness."

"I told you to shut the hell up!!!"

#fanfic #fanfiction #dandadan #ken takakura #okarun #momo ayase #turbo granny #x reader #female reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #x female y/n #quotev

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