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marvelstoriesepic · 2 days ago

Text

Like he means it

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky x Reader

Summary: You can’t take another night of hearing Bucky fuck a girl who isn’t you.

Word Count: 13.6k

Warnings: Bucky is a fuckboy (but he’s still a sweetheart); lots of talk about unrequited love (but is it?); mentions of sex; crying; lots of desperation; longing; heavy confessions; feels; happy ending

Author’s Note: This is written for the lovely cinema themed writing challenge of @elixirfromthestars ♡ I had this kind of idea for a while but when I read those lyrics it somehow immediately came back to my mind and I needed to make something out of it. This is kind of inspired by your Boulevard Confessions because I loved it so much! And damn, I've already written so much about roommate!Bucky but I can’t help myself lol, I love him. Also, this got a little long, I'm sorry. Still, I hope you enjoy! ♡

Hold My Hand "Pull me close, wrap me in your aching arms. I see that you're hurtin', why'd you take so long to tell me you need me? I see that you're bleeding, you don't need to show me again. But if you decide to, I'll ride in this life with you. I won't let go 'til the end." — Lady Gaga

Masterlist

You hear the giggling before anything else.

It’s always the giggling.

And, as always, it grates on your nerves.

It carves through the air, seeps into the walls, into the floorboards, into you. It tears its way inside and scrapes its manicured nails along the rawest and most sensitive parts of you, only to bury itself deep, where you can’t simply dig it out.

Then comes the keys.

The light, metallic jingle, so careless in its melody, but so troubling in its meaning.

Then the lock turning, the click soft and yet so irrefutable.

Then the door opening.

More giggles.

His breathy chuckles.

Then the door closing.

Shoes being kicked off, one hitting the wall.

You press the pillow harder against your ears, as if you could suffocate the sound before it reaches you, as if you could bury yourself deep enough under the covers to escape what you already know is coming. But you can’t. You never can.

Your brain usually does you the favors of drowning out the parts in the hallway, knowing it will probably make your heart stop in an instant. Today, it doesn’t do you any favors and you close your eyes, accepting the sting behind them.

And then, his bedroom door.

And if all that wasn’t torture enough, it was only the easy part.

Because now is when it really starts. It’s when your throat closes up, the breath in your lungs turns heavy, thick, impossible. Because no matter how many times this has happened, no matter how many times you laid here in your bed, still, so still, waiting for the agony to stop, pretending it doesn’t happen - it never stops hurting. It never stops breaking your heart - or whatever’s left of it.

At first, there is silence. The small period where you almost dare to believe, to hope.

But then comes the moaning.

High-pitched and breathy, hinting at a pleasure that strikes you with a hammer.

Someone else. Always someone else. Someone who is not you, someone who never had to try, someone who will never know what it means to ache for him like you do.

Then, quieter, but just as devastating, Bucky’s voice. The low sound of him unraveling. The sound of something slipping from him that you will never be able to take.

And that’s what breaks you most. That’s what turns the ache into utter misery. Madness even. It’s the inescapable proof that he has something to give - something deep, something intimate - and he is giving it away. Over and over again, but never to you.

You close your eyes, as always. It doesn’t help, as always. The sounds don’t stop anyway. The images come anyway - the touches you have imagined, the way his hands would feel against your skin, the way his mouth would shape your name if you were the one beneath him. The way he might look at you, if only he could see.

But right now, you are just the ghost in the next room, curled in on yourself, ears filled with the sound of someone else living the life you always wanted.

And in the morning, or right after, when the door will open again, when the giggling will turn to goodbyes, you will still be here, where you always are. Where you always will be. Waiting. Wanting. Breaking. Wishing you could turn it off, this feeling. This unendurable and never-ending heartbreak.

And that finally makes the tears flow.

They well up before they spill over, down the slope of your cheek, gathering in the hollow beneath your nose before falling onto the pillow and wetting it like a pool.

You squeeze your eyes shut, so tightly it should hurt, so tightly it should make them stop. But they come anyway. They come despite the barricade of your willpower, despite the way your body coils tighter in on itself. They come despite the desperate war you wage against them.

They come because you have lost. Because it’s too much.

The moaning doesn’t stop, and it’s too much. It’s the middle of the night, and it’s too much. It’s the third night in a row, and it’s too much.

Bucky’s hushed voice shatters something inside of you, you didn’t know was left intact a few seconds ago.

Your breath turns sticky, only half of it making its way up your throat. The other half stays attached to the walls of your throat like honey gone rancid. It refuses to leave completely, snagging and trapping you in the awful space between breathing and choking.

Maybe if it stopped altogether, it would be easier. Maybe suffocating would be gentler than this slow and unsparing death of heartbreak.

Your hands are shaking. You bury your face into the pillow, willing it to just take you as a whole and never let you leave again. The fabric muffles the shuddering sobs, but it cannot do anything for the way your body trembles. But you know that the sounds of pleasure in the other room will tune out the sounds of your cries. The pillow is being clutched so tightly, you might tear the fabric. But it’s your heart that’s being torn into so many pieces. So what is a pillow compared to the ruin of your heart? It’s nothing.

You are alone in your grief.

The moans stop for a second - abrupt, cut off mid-breath.

Bucky’s voice comes. He says something but you don’t catch his words.

However, you do catch the displeased groan of his girl for the night. Drawn-out and petulant. Annoyed.

Bucky speaks again. Firmer, this time. Again, it’s too quiet to catch it.

And then you hear your name. It’s muffled still, but you would hear your name coming from his lips always and forever. You know the exact cadence of it shaping his mouth.

Everything in you halts. Your breaths are suspended somewhere in your throat, caught between shock and devastation.

The girl scoffs. It’s a snappy sound. Almost whiny. You would have rolled your eyes if you weren’t so troubled.

The moaning resumes. But it is quieter this time. Controlled almost. A courtesy. A mercy. But not for you. Not in the way you wish.

And it makes you know.

He asked her to keep it down. For you. He must have told her he has a roommate - you - and that they need to be mindful, that you might be trying to sleep.

Somehow, in all the infinite ways he could have cared for you, this is the one he chose. Not to love you, not to want you, but to make sure his flings don’t disrupt your sleep. As if that’s the worst of it. As if the noise is what truly keeps you up at night, and not the agonizing truth of it all.

Harshly, your teeth sink into your lip, fighting to stifle the sob that trembles on the edge of you. But again, you are losing.

Because hearing your name in the middle of something so intimate, spoken in the same breath of his pleasure, is pure anguish.

Because your name should not exist there. Not like this. Not casually sneaking into a mind occupied with pleasuring someone else.

If he were to say your name in a moment like this, it should be a soft whisper against your skin, entangled in sheets, buried in kisses that steal the air from your lungs. It should be something private, something sacred.

Not an idle afterthought. A consideration. A passing thought before he loses himself in someone else’s body. You have never heard him say any girl’s name before when sleeping with them, but hell you also don’t try to listen too closely.

You won’t talk about this. You never talk about this. When the morning comes and you meet Bucky in the kitchen for breakfast, you will not mention it. Just like you never mention the other nights. Just like you never dwell on the soft apologies he offers when they got too loud. And just like always, you will brush it off, force a brittle smile, and tell him that it’s fine.

It’s not. It never has been. And you don’t think you ever manage to make it sound like you mean it. But you are gone before Bucky can push or apologize again. Or see how deep the knife has gone.

Because he might be careful to be quiet. But he will never be careful enough to stop breaking your heart.

So what is the point?

You don’t want to do another morning like this.

You can’t do another morning like this.

Not three times in a row.

Not when the night has already taken your soul and what was precious of it, barely sewn together by the time the sun fights its way through the window.

Not when you know how it will play out. Like it has the day before. And the day before that.

The door to his room will creak open, the girl already gone. You will hear the shuffle of his bare feet against the floor, the sigh as he stretches, and the yawn that usually makes it past his lips. He never tries to stifle it.

And then, him standing there and watching you.

Disheveled. Bed hair sticking up in a mess. You never let your mind wander to how her fingers might have something to do with that. His shirt would loosely hang over his frame, probably thrown on in a hurry, collar askew, revealing a sliver of skin you shouldn’t be looking at.

That lazy and slightly flustered smile. Sleep still in the corners of his eyes, his lips, his voice, when he greets you with a scratchy morning.

Like nothing happened. Like he didn’t shatter you into a thousand unfixable pieces last night. And the night before that. And now this night.

You will do your best to greet him back without sounding pained. Focusing on making coffee. The way the steam normally curls into the air, the warmth of the mug in your hands. You will have to focus on it as if it’s the only thing keeping you upright.

And despite knowing you shouldn’t - despite hating yourself for it - you will slide a cup toward him. As you always do.

His smile would shift. Settling into something fond, something warm, something that digs its claws into your ribs and refuses to let go.

Because that’s usually the worst part. He’s always so sweet with you. Thoughtful, affectionate in ways that don’t count. In the ways that make you feel like maybe if you just hold on a little longer, if you wait just a little more, he might start feeling what you do.

But you are certain, he won’t.

Because for him, everything seems fine. For him, this will be just another morning. Another easy, comfortable start to the day. With his eyes on you and sipping his coffee, exhaling like he is finally at peace, and leaning against the counter with a lightness that always has your stomach all up in shambles.

He always makes it seem so normal. Starting conversation with you, talking to you as if nothing has changed. Like you didn’t spend the night curled in on yourself, swallowing down sobs so thick they feel like razor blades. Like you didn’t spend the night choking on the sound of him with her.

He never mentions them. Never says any of the girl’s names, not that you even know what they are. He never makes plans to see them again. Just another faceless but very loud girl. One to be forgotten.

But tomorrow night, there will be another.

Tomorrow night will be the same.

And in the morning nothing will have happened.

Only him standing there with his sleep-mussed hair and that sweet, easy smile, drinking the coffee you should have stopped making for him a long, long time ago.

You rise out of bed, not even aware of it. The cold air nips at your tear-streaked cheeks, your sheets thrown back in a mass of tangled fabric still warm from the ball your body was curled in, breaking in silence. The pillow is still wet.

Your hands move on their own, tugging on slacks, yanking a hoodie over your head as though the fabric could hide you, save you from the devastation caving a hole into your chest.

You fumble for your phone before throwing open your bedroom door.

The moans are louder again. Yanking at your resolve and laughing at the way your tears keep coming.

Your feet move faster. You don’t actually run, but it feels like running. Like fleeing. Escaping a burning building before it collapses. The living room comes into view and it’s like a cruel trick, like the universe is taunting you, because all you see are phantoms.

The coffee machine on the counter. How many times have you two stood there, still tousled with sleep, you making coffee for the both of you because Bucky burns everything. How many times did he lean on the counter, watching you with that stupid little half-smirk, pretending to judge your process but always humming in satisfaction when he took the first sip.

The bookshelf in the corner - the one you swore you could build on your own. And you tried, you really did, but the second the screwdriver slipped and you gasped out loud, Bucky was there immediately. Hands on yours, worry furrowing his brows, grumbling about your stubbornness and continuing to grumble when he passive-aggressively built it himself.

You sat cross-legged on the floor, watching him, pretending to be annoyed but secretly savoring the way he kept glancing at you, again and again, to make sure you were okay and giving you instructions as to how it’s done but throwing you a glare when you insisted on trying again.

The carpet. The same one you both collapsed onto after a night out with your friends, too tipsy to move, giggling like teenagers as you pointed at the ceiling, pretending to find constellations in the uneven paint. He named one after you. You named one after him. You fell asleep there, side by side, and when you woke up he was so close. So close.

The couch. The one he practically melted into last week when he had a fever, whining dramatically until you caved and brought him soup. He kept pulling you back when you tried to leave, pouting like a child, demanding your attention because I’m sick, doll. Can’t ignore me when I’m sick. Until you sighed and sat down, letting his head rest in your lap. He fell asleep like that. Snoring. And you didn’t have the heart to move.

And now he is in his room, tangled in her, moaning into her skin, kissing her - like it doesn’t mean anything. Like none of it ever meant anything.

Your breath is uneven, your hands shaking as you grab your shoes. The laces blur, your vision fogs, but you can’t stop.

You throw open the door to your shared apartment, barely thinking, barely breathing, only moving. It swings back into the frame with a sharp sound echoing through the hallway, louder than you had intended. But it doesn’t matter now. Because you are sure that Bucky doesn’t hear it. He doesn’t notice. He is otherwise occupied and you are utterly drained of thinking about with what.

The air outside the apartment feels different. Lighter and cooler, but it doesn’t bring relief. It’s thin and hard to pull into your lungs properly.

Natasha’s place isn’t far. Fifteen minutes on foot. You tell yourself that over and over, like a mantra, like something to grasp on.

No more moans. Lost to silence, left in a place that feels little like home right now. Still, they resonate in your skull, haunting reminders of that pain you can’t dismiss, that hurt that hangs off you like a heavy burden.

You slow your steps on the staircase and inhale deeply. It trembles on its way out.

You hate how fragile you feel. How breakable. Hate how much this affects you. How much he affects you.

But you keep walking.

Just yesterday, you talked to Natasha and she offered you to stay with her for the night, looking at you all sharp and knowing, but in her own way sympathetic. You declined. Because you thought you’d be fine. Well, you were wrong.

It’s past midnight now, completely dark, but you don’t care.

You know, Natasha will let you in. And that will have to be enough for tonight.

The city is alive even at this hour. Neon lights glow in the distance, their reflection shimmering in rain-slicked puddles that dot the cracked pavement. Somewhere across the street, there is a group of people laughing, and disappearing around a corner. A car flies past, with headlights unlocking long shadows lengthening down the sidewalk.

You focus on those things. On the shoes thumping against the pavement. The way the crisp air is somehow refreshing as it weaves through the fabric of your hoodie and stings slightly at the tear-streaked skin of your cheeks, keeping you awake and propelling you forward. Not that you need any more motivation to leave.

You wind your arms around yourself like a shield, like a last-ditch effort to keep yourself from falling apart completely.

You don’t look back.

Somewhere above you, there is a creak of a window opening.

It makes you freeze for a small second, before tightening your arms around yourself and picking up your pace.

Your stomach spins violently because fuck, you know that sound. You know the groan of that window when it moves, just a little off its hinges, just enough to make a noise you’ve heard a hundred times before. Because it’s the window of your apartment. And it makes a noise that has never felt so much like a punch to the gut.

“Y/n?”

You close your eyes.

“Y/n!”

Your name spills from his lips, laced with confusion, infused with something that makes your fingers clench around your arms.

You could ignore him. You should ignore him. Just keep walking, keep moving, pretend you didn’t hear.

But you can’t. You never can.

With a slow, dragging breath, you turn around.

Bucky is leaning over the frame, his torso reaching out the window, bare from the shoulders down. He is bathed in the hazy yellow glow of the streetlights.

His hair is messed up, brown tendrils all sticking in different directions. His brows are knitted in confusion. His lips in a frown so full of worry. And it’s just too much.

Too warm. Too intimate. Too familiar.

Your chest stutters, lurches, and swirls itself into a dozen moving shapes that hurt more than they should. Because he stands there shirtless. Shirtless. And you know why.

You swallow back your hurt, but it stays stuck in your throat and crawls right up again to make you taste it on your tongue.

You force your gaze away from staring at the curve of his collarbone, the slope of his throat, the soft lines of his skin, the hard lines of his muscles that she had her hands on just minutes ago.

“Where are you going?”

The tone highlights his concern, thick with the kind of worry that would have meant everything if it weren’t coming from him like this, not now. His voice is rough, remnants of the time already spent with that girl, but all you can hear is that damn worry in it.

As if you owe him an answer. As if he isn’t the reason your chest feels like it’s been hollowed out and left to rot.

You draw in half a breath and look away - down the street, down at your shoes, the bricks of your building. Anywhere that isn’t him.

“To Nat’s.”

It’s clipped and short. You don’t want to explain, don’t want to talk, don’t want to stand here in the night air beneath the window of the apartment you share with him like some pathetic wreck while he worries about you.

“Nat’s?” You can hear the bewilderment in his voice, the way he is trying to piece it together, the way his brain is already working overtime, scrambling to make sense of this - and you can practically feel the moment he decides he won’t let it go.

“Somethin’ happen?” His voice just won’t stop to be so perplexed, so concerned. It is softer now, but you only glance up at him briefly before averting your eyes again.

Because damn Bucky, yes, something happened. Everything happened. Every night that he brings someone home, every touch that belongs to someone else, every soft moan that isn’t meant for you.

All these moments, all these memories, every feeling left unsaid that swivels and stings and grows into what it is now - a storm inside your rib cage, a hurricane of almosts and never wills and why does it have to be like this?

But of course, you can’t say that. You won’t say that.

So you just shake your head, tighten your arms around yourself, and take a step back.

“Go back to bed, Bucky.”

Because you can’t do this right now. You won’t do this right now.

Not when you are already about to break.

“I- What?”

His voice is a little raspy, puzzled, and under any other circumstance, it might have been endearing. On a normal day, if this were some cozy Sunday morning and not the breaking stretch of midnight, you might have smiled at the sight of him like this - hair in a wild mess, eyes a little heavy from the day, bare shoulders shifting in the glow of the streets.

But this is not a Sunday morning. And nothing about this feels good or cozy or right.

You are so damn exhausted. So damn drained.

“You-” he starts again, brow furrowing deeper, but before he can get another word out, hands appear - slim fingers wrapping around the thick of his bicep, tugging, pulling, trying to drag him back inside.

Bile is pooling at the base of your throat.

She’s alone with him up there, in the space that you have spent so much time making into something warm, something filled with comfort. A space where you feel home. With him. And yet, it’s that random girl in there, laying in his bed, under his covers, in his scent, in him.

“Bucky, come on.” Her voice is thin and peevish, thick with impatience. And exhaustion you believe she has no right to feel when you are the one who has spent the time suffocating under her presence.

But Bucky doesn’t move.

His hand only grips onto the windowsill tighter, muscles in his arm locking.

And his eyes stay fixed on you.

Still searching. Still confused. Still trying to understand.

And it makes your hands clammy.

The way he looks at you like he is reaching for something just beyond his grasp, something that eludes him no matter how hard he tries to hold onto it.

He huffs out a breath that just borders on frustration when her fingers won’t stop pulling at him.

“Hold on, doll-” he calls out to you and unwinds her hands from his arm, barely sparing her a glance as he leans out the window again. There is a little something in his tone when he speaks to you again. Something like exasperation. But it’s not meant for you. “What’re you doin’ at Nat’s? Tell her it’s the middle of the goddamn night. Why would she let you walk over to her? She knows it’s not safe.”

You shake your head, already half turning away again. You just cannot do this right now.

“It’s fine. Just go back to bed, Bucky.”

“Y/n - hey. What’s wrong? What’s this about?” There it is. That softness in his voice. That concern. And it hurts. Because he doesn’t get it.

“Go. Back. To bed,” you repeat, sharper now, gritting it out between clenched teeth.

But Bucky has always been stubborn. And so infuriating. It’s like he doesn’t hear you at all.

“C’mon doll, did something happen? Talk to me,” he urges, voice gentle but he doesn’t seem to like the way you look as if you would bolt around the corner any second. His tone is coaxing in a way that makes you ache because this is what he does. This is what he has always done - pulling you in, making you feel safe, making you feel cared for, making you feel like you matter. Like he means it.

And it’s cruel. So cruel.

Because you are in love with him.

And he is standing in that window, bare-chested and rumpled from a night with another woman, while you are in slacks and a simple hoodie beneath him with your heart cracked wide open, bleeding into the pavement.

“I don’t wanna do this right now, Bucky,” you snip, voice losing patience. But you are so tired.

Bucky sighs and runs a hand through his hair, frustration growing, seeping into his voice. “You’re killin’ me here, sweetheart. Just tell me what’s goin’ on. It’s cold out, doll. You’re not even wearin’ a jacket.”

You swallow down a choked breath.

Because this is making things so much worse.

That he cares. That he is looking at you like this, like you matter, like you are his.

Like you are something he wants to figure out. And he wants to take his time with. Like he wants to fix you.

But you are not broken. You are just in love.

“Bucky,” that girl calls out again, dragging his name out, voice honey-thick and pettish. “Come on babe, let it go. Just-” She tugs at his arm again, nails skimming along his forearm. “Come back to bed.”

But he doesn’t move.

Doesn’t even glance at her.

His mouth twitches, jaw ticking as he exhales sharply through his nose, shaking her off with a firm roll of his shoulder. “Would you quit it for a sec?” His voice is edged now, tinged with a kind of terse impatience he seldom ever lets out. “Jesus, m’tryin to talk here.”

The girl huffs, clearly displeased, but Bucky doesn’t spare her another second.

But the one second he threw his head around at her was your chance. Your feet move before you can think, before you can talk yourself into staying, because if you do, if you let him pull you in, let yourself hope-

“Woah, doll, hey. Wait, I-”

His voice is frantic, stammering over its own syllables and filled with too many things your mind is too jumbled to focus on.

But it makes you stop your body in the midst of a step. And you grind down on your teeth against the frustration burning inside you.

You should keep walking. Shouldn’t have stopped.

But Bucky is leaning even further out now, his knuckles bracing against the sill, the night air tousling his hair, eyes wide and concerned, searching. One of his arms is reaching out, down to you as if he could touch you like this.

“Hold up, yeah? I’m comin’ down.”

You whip halfway back to him, brows snapping together, heart slamming against your ribs.

“No, you-”

He’s already pulling himself back inside, shaking his head as if it should be obvious. “I’m coming down,” he repeats, more insistent, more sure. Leaving no room for argument.

Your fists squeeze the fabric of your hoodie. Your stomach churns. “Bucky-” you try again. But he has already made up his mind.

“Wait there, alright?” His voice dips lower, steadier but still urgent. Resolute, as if he would run after you if you bolted down the street. “Doll. Promise me you’ll wait.”

Something in his tone, the look he is giving you, like he’s begging, almost a sweet-talking declaration. It’s catching your breath somewhere in your throat.

You could run.

You should.

You should turn right back around, disappear into the night, and leave him standing there, shirtless and confused and worried.

But you hold his gaze for just one long and heavy beat, then exhale shakily, shoulders dropping slightly.

“Okay,” you say weakly.

Bucky nods determined and taps his fingers against the windowsill, before rushing away, leaving the window wide open.

And you stand there hating yourself for waiting.

Hating yourself for hoping.

Technically, you could just leave.

Take a different route to Nat’s apartment, slip into the dark veins of the city where his voice wouldn’t reach, and let him walk out onto an empty sidewalk with his hair still tousled from another woman’s fingers and the taste of someone else’s lips still lingering on his own.

You could make him feel just a fraction of what you feel, with something hollow pressing up against his ribs when he finds nothing but cold pavement where you used to stand.

But you don’t.

You know you won’t.

Because it wouldn’t just frustrate him. It would hurt him.

And that’s the one thing you could never bring yourself to do.

Not Bucky.

Never Bucky.

You know him. The way he chews at the inside of his cheek when he’s trying not to say something reckless. The way his brows pull just a little too tight when he’s agitated but trying to play it off like he is fine. The way he folds his arms over his chest, not because he’s closed off, but because he needs something to hold onto.

You know exactly how he would react if he stepped out here and you weren’t there.

How the slight crease between his brows would deepen. How his fingers would twitch, opening and closing, like he’d missed his chance to catch you. How his lips would open and he would stare helplessly around and call your name.

And god, as much as this pain is devouring you from the inside out, pushing its way into the light but leaving you sitting in the dark, as much as your heart feels like being torn apart with unsaid words and unmet confessions - you cannot stand the thought of hurting him.

So you stay.

With feet planted on the concrete, fists clenched so hard, that your fingers start to cramp. You lift your trembling hands to your aching cheeks to hastily scrub away the fresh wave of tears surging forth downwards, willing your body to erase any evidence of your devastation.

But the more you wipe, the more it hurts.

You believe your cheeks are red from the effort of wiping so much, eyes swollen and puffy, your body trying to rebel against all of your commands.

Inhaling shakily, you force the breath down, down, down where you can pretend it doesn’t hurt so much. You angle your face slightly away from the building, hoping the dim spill of moonlight won’t betray your inner struggles.

Because the moment Bucky steps out that door, it will be the same as always.

He’ll look at you like you are his best friend. Like you are his safe place. Like you are the person he can always count on.

And you will look at him like you aren’t falling apart.

Like your heart isn’t unraveling at the seams.

Like you aren’t drowning in a love that will never be returned.

The door swings open with a force that startles you, the sound of it hitting the frame a little too sharp against the night.

Bucky storms out onto the sidewalk like he’s got something urgent to say, like the world might stop spinning if he doesn’t get to you fast enough. He doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t pause. Just moves straight to you, his steps quick, closing the space before you can change your mind about standing here. He has a crumpled shirt thrown on and it hangs a little off. But it makes you want to run so hard.

His fingers wrap around your arms, not hard, not forceful but firm.

Those warm hands on you make you want to crumble.

His breath is coming fast, chest rising and falling, like he ran down the staircase to get here as fast as possible.

His eyes are so deep, deep and blue, roaming your face with so much intensity, searching and scanning and pausing.

Shadows cast over his sharp cheekbones at the way his brows are furrowed, his lips slightly parted.

“What’s going on, doll? You been cryin’?” His voice comes out rough and he talks fast. Urgent, breaths spilling over themselves as he rushed through the words, almost tripping on them in his desperation to get them out. “Why’ve you been crying? What happened?”

His thumb twitches against the fabric of your hoodie.

You open your mouth, close it again. Your throat is dry from the sobs you tried to silence earlier. You shake your head, a knee-jerk reaction.

“I was just going to Nat’s, Bucky. Nothing happened.”

It’s a weak excuse, said in a weak voice.

And you hate how it makes Bucky’s expression shift. That tiny wounded something that crosses his features, something that shouldn’t be there, because you did wait for him, you didn’t leave, but it’s still not enough. You lied to him. And he knows it. And he’s hurt. And you hate yourself.

He shakes his head, his jaw going tight.

“No,” he murmurs, eyes never leaving you, voice so low. “That ain’t nothin’, doll. C’mon. You’re runnin’ off in the middle of the night, how could this be nothing?”

You look away. Because if you keep looking at him, him with his concern and confusion and hurt all interflowing in the pool of those blue eyes, you won’t be able to hold yourself together much longer.

You swallow hard and force yourself to breathe slowly.

The sting behind your eyes is never really leaving you.

Bucky leans in, just a little. His grip on your arms tightens, but it’s not harsh. Only insistent. Desperate for you to give him something here.

“Somethin’ up with Natasha?” His voice is gentle, like he knows this has nothing to do with her, but he has to ask anyway to go through all the possible options of what might be going on.

“No,” you croak, barely managing the word.

He softens at the sound of it, but that frown doesn’t ease.

“What’re you doing then, huh? Why’re you running off like that? S’ not safe, you know that.” His voice is soft. Almost like he’s trying to soothe a skittish animal. But the concern is wrapping around every word. “What’s got you so upset, sweetheart? Talk to me, yeah? Please?”

His voice takes on a desperate intensity. Like he’s begging you to just let him in. To make him understand.

You bite down hard on your bottom lip, willing it not to tremble, willing your face not to crumble right in front of him, but the air is too thick for your airway, making it harder and harder to breathe.

And Bucky is looking at you, like you are breaking his goddamn heart. Like you took a shot straight for it.

He is so full of worry, it looks painful, the crease of his brow always there when he’s thinking too hard, when he’s feeling too hard. His lips are still parted, like he wants to beg for an explanation, for some string of words that will make this all click into place and turn this into something fixable.

Because Bucky Barnes fixes things.

But this might be the only thing he can’t fix.

His hands on you are a contrast to the way you feel as if you’re falling apart. You hate how much you just want to collapse into it, to let yourself lean into him, let him hold you up. Because he would. You know he would. He would pull you in without hesitation, wrap his arms around you like he has done so many times before.

But you don’t want him to hold you. Don’t want him to hold you like a friend.

You want him to hold you like he means it. Like you mean something more than the sum of all the nights you spent choking on your own silence, swallowing words you could never say.

So all you can do is stay frozen, bones locked, eyes burning, heart splitting itself open in the middle of the street where he doesn’t even know he’s killing you.

“I-”

You try. You really try.

But then the door swings open again. And the sound of it alone is enough to send a bolt of ice down your spine.

Because this time it’s her walking out.

She steps out onto the sidewalk like she has every right to be a part of this moment.

Like she hasn’t spent the first part of the night in Bucky’s bed. Like she hasn’t been touched by him, kissed by him, fucked by him, wanted by him in a way that you have only ever ached for.

Like she hasn’t taken something that was never hers to have.

But it’s not yours either.

She looks so composed, too. More put together than you would have imagined. Her hair smoothed, clothes adjusted, skin glowing in a way that tells you she wasn’t just sleeping up there - she was living in something you’ve been dying for. She probably took a moment in your bathroom to check herself, to fix her lipstick, maybe even to admire herself in the mirror while you were downstairs, breaking apart.

She had the time for that.

Meanwhile, you can barely stand.

Your body is alive with magnitudes of unspoken things, suffocating. You feel like you’ve been sanded down, like a piece of wood, leaving nothing but the ache and longing and all the words you can’t say. This destruction is slow and ruthless, it doesn’t come with an explosion, but rather a slow erasure.

Like you’re being unmade. Piece by piece.

Like you were never meant to be here in the first place.

And Bucky is still looking at you.

Not at her.

You.

And maybe that should be enough. Maybe it should mean something.

But it just puts more pressure on the knife that is already turning around in your flesh.

The girl doesn’t leave and Bucky stiffens.

“Bucky,” she drawls, almost lazy, like she’s bored with this already. “Are you coming back up, or…?”

Your stomach lurches.

You feel exposed, scraped raw, like you’ve been trampled over, flattened by something massive, left behind for everyone else to step around.

Bucky lets out a slow breath through his nose. His jaw works under pressure. And then, he huffs. Annoyed. Like she’s interrupting something important.

“Go home,” he flatly tells her, his attention still on you. Not even addressing her with a name. Perhaps he doesn’t even know it.

“Seriously?” she scoffs, crossing her arms. Her eyes flick between the two of you.

Bucky exhales another breath and drops one of his arms from you to scrub it over his face, pushing through his hair. He turns toward her just a little, stance rigid.

“Yeah, seriously,” he mutters, already turning back to you. “I’ll call you a cab if you need-”

“God, you’re such a dick,” she snaps, cutting him off, rolling her eyes with an exasperated huff. “Unbelievable.”

And then she’s gone.

But so are you.

You don’t even think about it. You just move.

Your arm slips from Bucky’s loosened grip, your body already shifting, already turning, already pulling you down the sidewalk, away from him, away from this.

It’s pathetic. You know this. But you have to get away.

Your vision is a blur, the streetlights smearing into a soft, hazy glow against the wetness welling in your eyes, and no matter how much you try to breathe through it, it’s too much. Simply too much.

You’re hurting. And you need to go. Now.

But Bucky doesn’t let you.

“Woah, whoah, hey!” His voice is quick, rushed, and then he is moving, closing the space between you. And this time, he cuts you off completely, stepping right into your path, right in front of you, blocking the way like a wall. He’s so broad in front of you, and so fucking present, making it impossible to escape.

You stop so fast it almost sends you stumbling back.

His eyes flick over you so quickly, so intensely, scanning for something he doesn’t understand but is so desperate to find.

“Alright,” he exhales, low and careful, holding his arms out as if ready to stop you again if you make a run for it.

“You want me to put you in chains to keep you still?”It’s a weak and failed attempt at humor.

And it’s not funny. Not even close.

His voice is too thin, too strained, and there is something in his eyes, something tight and aching, that makes it clear he is not even trying all that hard to make his joke work.

You don’t smile. Don’t look at him. Arms still around yourself.

Bucky’s throat bobs as he swallows, as he shifts his weight, as he lets out another slow and deliberate breath. He moves so slow. As if any tiny movement of him would make you walk away from him.

“What’s going on with you, mhm?” His voice is so soft. So concerned. Brooklyn warmth and worry combined with something gentler than you can handle right now.

“What’s this - this fight-or-flight thing you got goin’ on?” he continues, tilting his head just slightly, watching you too closely, reading too much. “You’re rushing off like the damn place is on fire. The hell is that about, doll?” Still so soft. So cautious.

His eyes are on you like you are the only thing in the world that matters, like he’s trying to solve you, like if he just looks long enough, he’ll figure it out.

But if he really understood, if he really found out, everything between you would change.

And you can’t handle that. You can’t handle anything at the moment.

“Just drop it, Bucky, alright?” It comes out sharper than you mean for it to. Harsher. A little spit of venom that you hate yourself for the second it hits the air. He doesn’t deserve your attitude. But you can’t hold it back.

You see the way it lands. The way his brows pull in tighter, the way his lips press together, the way his chest rises and falls so measured. But it’s all not out of irritation. He just tries to figure out where that came from. What is happening. What has you react the way you do.

His voice is even and calm. But oh so careful. “I don’t think I will, doll.”

You look anywhere than at him and his troubled face.

Your throat tightens so fast, you have to swallow hard against it, teeth digging into the inside of your cheek as you blink up at the sky like maybe that keeps the tears from spilling over.

And Bucky watches all of that.

His expression stays soft, but his eyes are burning with something deep, something real, something that makes you feel like you might actually drown if you keep looking at them for too long.

“Y/n,” he almost whispers, and it sounds so pained. “Why are you crying, sweetheart.” He’s so gentle, so tender, so fucking careful like he’s afraid that if he pushes too hard, you’ll just break.

You shake your head, arms around yourself tightening. “I’m fine.”

Bucky makes a quiet noise in his throat, somewhere between a sigh and a scoff, something deep and disbelieving.

“See, that’s bullshit.”

You’re about to turn again, but he anticipates and gets hold of your arms.

“Look,” he sighs, heedfully taking off a hand of you to rub it down his face. “You don’t wanna talk? Fine. You wanna bite my head off cause I’m askin’? Fine. But don’t stand here and tell me you’re okay. Because I’ve got eyes, doll, and I can see that you’re not.”

You want him to stop.

You want him to turn around.

You want him to leave you here to fall apart in peace.

But he won’t.

And you don’t know what to do with that.

And you break.

No matter how hard you bite your lip, it doesn’t matter.

The tears slip and streak down your face before there is anything you can do. A sob follows. You can’t choke it down. Your shoulders shake, your breath stutters, and your face tilts towards the ground as you bring trembling hands up to wipe at your cheeks, in a futile and desperate attempt to regain composure. It’s useless.

You feel so pathetic.

Embarrassed. Ashamed that you ran off like this. That you’re standing here, crying in the middle of the night, on a sidewalk with no explanation, making a fool of yourself in front of him.

And the second your face crumbles, his does, too.

The second your breath hitches, he is moving.

Strong arms envelope you, winding tight, pulling you straight into his chest like he doesn’t even need to think about it. Not for a single second.

You let him.

Because it’s either this, or you’ll collapse down onto the asphalt.

His grip is firm, grounding, warm in a way that makes you ache even more. His hand cradles the back of your head, tucking you against him, and you feel the press of his lips there, gentle, but somehow rough.

Like your pain is his own.

“It’s okay. Shh… it’s okay,” he breathes, pained and low, the words pressed into your hair, into your skin. Making space between your ribs. “Oh, doll.” He presses you tighter to him. His hand brushes over your hair. “It’s okay.”

There is something so deep and aching in the way he talks to you, like the sound of his own voice hurts him. Like you hurt him.

His other hand moves over your back, soothingly, trying to give you some strength.

“I gotcha,” he breathes. “M’here, doll. Okay? Just breathe. Gotta breathe for me, baby. Please.”

It’s a slip. Baby. A mistake.

And it makes you cry harder.

Because it’s so soft. Gentle. Because it falls from his lips like something that’s always been there, something that’s always belonged to you.

Except it hasn’t.

It doesn’t.

Not in the way you want.

You don’t know what he calls those girls he takes home. If they get to hear him say it. Girls who have felt his hands in places you never will. Girls who have heard his voice rasp against their skin in the dark.

But you are not one of those girls.

You never will be.

And you know you will never be able to untangle that damaging wrench in your stomach.

So hearing him call you that. Baby. Like it means something. Like it’s yours. Like it hasn’t been whispered in the dim glow of your apartment, murmured against someone else’s lips, someone else’s skin, just someone else just hours ago.

It’s too hard. too cruel.

You wish it didn’t matter. You wish it didn’t rip through you the way it does, splitting you down the center, carving you open.

But it does.

Because even if it doesn’t belong to you, you still want it.

So you cry harder.

Sobs wrack through you, your chest hitching with the force of them, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt, clumping it in your fists.

Bucky feels it and he hears it and he grips you tighter, pulls you closer.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he coos, voice just above a whisper, more desperate now. Like he’s drowning in your hurt right along with you.

“Sweetheart,” he tries again, voice strained, thick. His lips are in your hair. “Please talk to me. Make me understand, baby, please! Tell me what’s wrong.”

But you can’t.

Because what the hell would you even say?

That you’re in love with him?

That you’ve been in love with him?

That seeing him with her - hearing the sounds that bleed through the walls, the ones you’ll never be able to unhear - feels like being skinned alive?

That you want him in a way you shouldn’t?

That you want him in a way he will never want you back?

You won’t.

So instead, you just press yourself harder into his chest and squeeze your eyes shut, letting him hold you like you are something precious. Like you are his. Even if you are not.

“Help me understand here, baby. Please,” he repeats with a voice so soft, that makes him seem afraid you might break apart completely if he speaks any louder.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe you’re already in pieces at his feet, shattered beyond repair, and he just hasn’t realized it yet.

He lets you cry when you don’t answer, hand stroking up and down your back, the other soothing over your head. He whispers into your hair, words you can’t even process, just the deep cadence of him, the low rasp of his voice against your temple.

His lips move to your forehead, brushing over it. His breath is warm against your skin. You don’t have it in you to pull away, but you wish you would.

Because none of this makes it any easier.

Because his hands feel too good, too steady, too right - and it’s a lie.

Because it’s him.

And that means it hurts.

You wish he would just go and let you have your pathetic heartbreak alone.

But Bucky Barnes has never been the kind of a guy to leave things unsolved.

He pulls back just slightly after a while, just enough to get a better look at you, and when you try to duck your head, to keep him from seeing too much, he doesn’t let you.

Strong, warm fingers cradle your face, thumbs brushing over the damp skin of your cheeks, tilting your head up and forcing your gaze to his.

He looks wrecked.

His brows are drawn, lips parted, chest rising and falling unevenly. His hands tremble just a little against your skin, but his grip stays firm. Solid.

“Don’t look away, doll. Eyes on me, yeah?”

You swallow hard, jaw tight. “You just ruined your good night,” you say, the words falling out bitter, self-deprecating, stiff with something that tastes like resentment but feels like heartbreak.

Bucky’s frown deepens, his lips pressing together, eyes scanning over your face like he’s searching for something, anything that’ll make this make sense.

“The hell I did,” he scoffs, shaking his head. Confused you even brought this up. “I don’t give a shit about her. Don’t even know her name, if I’m bein’ honest.” He lets out a huffed laugh.

But you don’t.

Because somehow this makes it worse.

And you hate it.

You hate that some part of you wanted her to mean something.

Because if she meant something, if she was special, then at least this ache in your chest would have a name. A reason. A shape you could hold in trembling hands and squeeze so hard that it stops hurting at one point.

Then, at least, you could maybe finally accept that there is no hope. No reason to hold on to those feelings.

But Bucky just shrugs.

It meant nothing. It never meant anything. Not with them.

Not with the girls that come and go, the ones who pass through his nights in the same easy way the hours do - fleeting, ephemeral, touched, and forgotten.

Not with anyone. Not even with you.

You have spent so long feeling this, holding onto it, trying to keep it hidden beneath layers of friendship and longing and careful restraint. You have spent so long pretending that it is fine, that it doesn’t matter, that you can live like this - on the sidelines, just the girl in the other room, in the shadows, in the spaces between what you want and what you’re allowed to have.

And he stands here and looks you in the eyes, telling you that it is nothing. That she is nothing. That they - all of them before her, and all of them after her - are nothing.

You can barely breathe past it.

You don’t say anything.

And Bucky freezes.

His hands, where they cup your face, stop their soft, absentminded strokes. His thumbs, which had been tracing reassuring circles along your cheekbones halt. His breath catches and his eyes shift.

There is something uncertain in there.

And then, his lips part. His brows go up ever so slightly. His pupils flare.

Something settles over his expression that you don’t recognize.

Like a switch has been flipped.

Like a puzzle piece has clicked into place.

Like suddenly he is seeing something in your eyes, something like an answer, something that has been there all along.

His fingers tighten, anchoring himself. Making it seem that if he lets go, if he moves even a fraction, something will break. In him, or you, you’re not sure.

He pulls back. Not far. Just an inch. But he needs to see you better. Just enough to search your face for something he needs to know. His gaze locks onto yours and holds you there, testing something, making sure.

His voice is hushed when he talks. Breathless.

“Is that what this is about?”

It’s quiet, the way he says it. Like he’s afraid of it. Like he’s careful with it. There is disbelief on his face. Astonishment.

You shake your head too fast, too sharp, like if you deny it hard enough, it’ll erase the way he’s looking at you right now. That it’ll undo the meaning of his words and the way they sit between you. Something fragile on the verge of breaking.

“No,” you say, but it barely comes out, barely sounds convincing. Your voice is hoarse, scraped raw form holding back everything you don’t want to say. Your lungs refuse to work in sync with the rest of you. You swallow, eyes darting away, grasping for something to latch onto.

But Bucky doesn’t let you.

“Doll…” It comes like a sigh. Weightless and soft. His hands don’t drop from your face, don’t loosen, don’t give you the space you’re so desperately trying to carve out between you. If anything, his grip grows more robust. Just enough to keep you there.

“Hey. Look at me.” His tone is low, carrying the kind of warmth you’d usually like to lean into, but now all you want is to get away from it. You don’t want to meet those stormy blues.

Bucky’s thumbs are sweeping, so feather-light, over the curve of your jaw, smoothing along the damp trail of your tears, and his voice dips even lower. Softer. He is so close.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Give me somethin’ here.”

It’s not fair that he gets to call you all those sweet names like he means them. Like you mean something. Like it’s not the same word he probably called her and all those others who got to have him, even if only for a night.

“I don’t-” you try, but your voice is trembling and thick with tears, and Bucky’s gaze shadows.

“Don’t what?” he coaxes, leaning in just a little, close enough that his breath skims your skin, warm and stable in a way you aren’t. His fingers slightly move against your cheeks, as if resisting the urge to pull you closer.

You shake your head again, your hands wrapping around his wrists - not to push him away exactly, but to have something to hold onto. You have no idea what to say.

“It’s- It’s not-” Your words trip over themselves, stuck somewhere between your throat and your ribs, tangled up in everything you’ve never let yourself say.

But Bucky just watches you, unreadable things swirling in those impossibly blue eyes. Wary things. Still so damn careful.

He exhales and his hands slide down, skimming the column of your throat, settling against the curve of your neck like he’s grounding you. Holding you both together.

“Doll,” he sighs, and it’s too much.

It’s not teasing. It’s not playful. It’s not easy. Not the charming lilt he likes to throw in his tone.

It’s vulnerable. Tender. Substantial.

“You’re breakin’ my heart here.”

And that’s what has another tear slip over your lashes.

Because you’re breaking his heart?

What does that even mean?

You were the one trying to escape the heartache he caused and now he tells you it’s his heart that hurts?

“Please,” he whispers, and his voice is wrecked, gravel thick in his throat. “Just tell me, doll. Tell me what I did. Tell me so I can fix it.”

His lips stay parted, trying to find air, trying to find some kind of solid ground. There is a sheen over his eyes.

“I can’t-” Your voice cracks, but you don’t look away this time. His hands won’t let you. He won’t let you.

His eyes are pleading.

“Can’t what, sweetheart?” he urges, dipping closer, voice just a rasp of sound between you. His thumbs wipe away the new tears and he winces while doing it as if it actually causes him pain that they fell.

The streetlight flickers above. It casts shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, the tight pull of his mouth. His fingers flex against your face.

“Is it-” he starts, then stops, then starts again, throat bobbing and voice rough and hesitant. “Is it those girls?”

A shallow gasp slips from your lips. Fractured and tripping over something unseen. Your shoulders grow stiff.

You can’t answer. You only shake your head, not in denial, not in confirmation, but in something else, something tired and so fucking done with feeling like this.

You try to pull back, try to slip free from the heat of his palms, try to turn away. Another tear drops onto the back of his hand.

Your reaction must be answer enough.

Bucky’s head, Bucky’s hands, Bucky’s eyes, Bucky’s whole body - everything is moving so much, keeping you from slipping away, reaching for you, not letting you go.

A breath. A pause. Like his brain needs an extra moment to process what this all could mean. His breath catches in his throat and you can feel the exact moment he gets it.

The exact moment he realizes.

“Shit,” he breathes, so quiet you almost miss it. His grip tightens. It grows distressed. Despairing. Keeping you from leaving his hold, although you don’t stop trying.

You sob and his hands press into your cheeks, thumbs smoothing away tears like he can erase this, like maybe if he holds you tight enough, he can go back five minutes, five months, five years, to a time before he made you feel like this.

“Shit, doll, I-” His voice breaks, gravel and regret and anguish - and something so painful - landing with every syllable.

You don’t stop trying to pull back, trying to push him away. You can’t talk. You can’t stop crying. You can’t look at him.

But Bucky is devastated. And he is desperate. And he won’t let you go.

“No, no, don’t - please, Y/n, don’t.” He runs through his words, frantically getting them out, frantically trying to make you look at him.

He reaches your face again and holds on like it’s important. Your tears won’t stop falling. A whimper falls from your lips when you realize he won’t let you leave.

Bucky panics.

His swallow seems to hurt him. Everything he does seems to hurt him.

“Oh, sweetheart - fuck, fuck, I didn’t-” He lets out a rough breath, one of his hands letting go of you to scrub over his face, pushing through his hair in frustration.

Not at you.

At himself.

“Doll, I didn’t - Jesus Christ, I didn’t know.”

It comes out hoarse, scraped down to nothing but feeling. Each word drags from his throat like sandpaper against silence. Coarse and raspy.

And then he’s shaking his head, hands sliding to your shoulders, his hold firm, his eyes darting over your face like he is trying to memorize it, searching for the right words in the curve of your lips, the glisten of your tears, the way your breathing is a single shuddering mess.

“I didn’t - fuck, I didn’t mean-”

He seems to hold back a scream.

Sucking in another sharp breath, he squeezes his eyes shut like he’s in pain, angry at himself, wanting to go back and rewrite everything, tear out every page where he made you feel like you were anything but his.

You wish you could believe it.

“Bucky-” you croak out.

“No, don’t-” His head doesn’t stop shaking. His jaw is clenched tight. Hands shaking against you. “Don’t say my name like that.”

“Like what?” Your voice is whisper-thin.

His breath shudders out, and when his eyes meet yours again, they are so earnest. Glossy with a sheen of tears.

“Like it’s over.”

Your throat closes around your next breath, never making it reach your lungs.

Because what is he saying? Nothing ever had the chance to be anything.

“I didn’t know, doll,” he whispers, voice breaking. “I swear to God, I didn’t know. You gotta believe me, I - fuck, I never wanted to hurt you. Never wanted you to feel like- I didn’t think you’d-”

He cuts himself off, voice choking.

His hands drop suddenly, like he doesn’t even deserve to hold you anymore. Like the guilt is weighing them down.

And then, unsure and hesitantly, he lifts one of them again and pauses before cupping your face, waiting for something - permission, maybe, or just a sign that you won’t pull away this time.

When you don’t, when you just keep standing there, frozen and broken and bewildered, he lets his palm settle warm against your cheek, his thumb brushing so lightly it sends a shiver down your back.

“Tell me how to fix it. Tell me I can,” he pleads, like he means it. Like he would do anything. “Tell me what to do, baby. Anything. I’d do anything. Just gotta tell me. Please,” he chokes out.

Cars roll past you. There are voices in the distance. A neon sign flickers. But none of it touches this.

This thing between you.

Bucky’s hand shakes against your cheek. His breath stirs against your skin so ragged and he leans in. His forehead presses to yours, his body curling toward you like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, just needing to be close.

“I’m so sorry,” he gasps out. “God, I’m so fucking sorry.”

Never have you seen Bucky like this. He keeps things easy, keeps things light, and shrugs off pain like it never quite reaches him. But it does now.

It consumes him.

His fingers curl at the back of your neck, not pulling, just holding, grounding himself against you. And when you continue standing there, breath shaky, tears still trembling in your lashes, his whole body sags.

His chest heaves with a breath so deep it sounds like it’s costing him something.

“I never meant for this to happen. Please, believe me.”

His forehead presses harder to yours, seemingly trying to press his words straight into you, that maybe if he gets close enough you’ll feel how much he means them.

And you do. You just don’t know what the hell is going on.

He lets out a sound that resembles a sob. And then you feel the damp heat of a tear where his face brushes against yours.

Bucky is crying.

It breaks you. You don’t know what to do with all this pain. His and yours. Don’t know how to ever let it go.

You pull back. Just slightly. Just enough to breathe, to think, to process.

But Bucky’s whole body tenses, and his eyes squeeze shut as if he knew it was coming but it still pains him. Bracing himself for something he already knows is going to hurt. His hands drop to his sides.

And maybe that should give you some kind of satisfaction, a tiny sense of justice for the nights you spent lying awake, wondering if you meant anything to him while he had his hands on someone else.

But it doesn’t.

Because the way he is looking at you, when he cracks his eyes open again, when he meets your gaze with so much open ache, makes your chest hurt. It makes something inside of you quake.

“Bucky,” you start, but your own voice is so small, so lost. You shake your head, scanning his face, trying to piece it together, to make sense of something that refuses to fit. How the tables have turned. You just can’t seem to find the irony in it. “What are you even - I don’t - I don’t I understand.”

His throat bobs, thick and tight, and he pulls in a breath like it’s the last one he’s going to get.

“I love you.”

Your mind blanks. You flatline. Your knees go weak.

He says it like it’s the simplest thing to say. As if it is the most obvious thing in the world. But it isn’t.

Because if it was then why has he spent all those nights with those seemingly meaningless girls. Why has he let you ache for him while he touched someone else.

“I love you,” he says again, softer, trying to make sure you believe it.

But you don’t know how to.

Your lips part, but nothing comes out. You feel the words, heavy and warm and terrifying, but your body doesn’t know what to do with them. Your mind is screaming at you to run, to protect yourself, to build the walls back up before it’s too late, but your heart doesn’t listen.

Bucky’s hand trembles when it reaches for you, fingertips ghosting over your jaw, waiting, waiting, waiting for you to pull away.

You don’t and he steps closer again.

His whole body thrums as if he is scared to touch you but more scared not to. He looks at you with those red-rimmed and puffy eyes, so tremendously bare, holding onto your own eyes like he is drowning and you are the only thing keeping him afloat.

“Say something, doll,” he pleads, his voice so unsteady, that it guts you.

But what could you say?

Because love is not supposed to feel like this, to hurt like this. It isn’t supposed to feel like your heart has been split open and stitched back together all in the same breath.

But looking at him and at the way his eyes are just as pleading as his words, at the way he is breaking right in front of you - it makes you wonder if maybe it was hurting him all along, too.

“You-” you begin, voice barely more than a whisper. You have to stop, have to pull in a breath that doesn’t seem to want to settle, have to force your hands to stay at your sides instead of reaching for something - for him - that you don’t know if you can take. “But that-” Another inhale, sharp and broken. Your chest hurts. Your whole body hurts. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Bucky exhales, long and slow and then he drops his head. Shoulders slumping, spine curling, like something inside of him, has just given out.

Guilt.

It sits heavy in his frame, in the set of his jaw, in the way his hands jerk like he wants to touch you but knows he shouldn’t.

“Yeah,” he mutters, a humorless little laugh escaping, barely more than a breath. He drags a hand down his face, through his hair, before letting it fall uselessly at his side. His voice is lower when he speaks again, raspier, weighed down by something that feels an awful lot like regret. “I know.”

You watch him, waiting. Because he owes you this. Because he cracked open something you weren’t ready for, something you tried to bury, and now you need to understand.

And Bucky must feel that. Because after a beat, after a deep, shuddering breath, he looks at you again.

“I didn’t think I could have you,” he admits, voice quiet. Cautious. The words fragile in his mouth. “Didn’t think I was allowed to even want you. To this extent, anyway.”

Air enters you unevenly, shaking on the way in like a shiver made of sound. “Bucky-”

“You’re my best friend,” he pushes on, stepping in just a fraction, like he can’t help himself. His voice is getting rougher, rawer, like something in him is unwinding too fast for him to stop it. “I didn’t wanna mess that up, y’know? Didn’t wanna lose you over somethin’ I couldn’t control.”

Something tightens in your chest. Something shifts.

“So you-” you swallow, shaking your head, trying to put it together, trying to make sense of it. “So you just went around to go get yourself other girls you can fuck?”

Bucky flinches. Actually flinches.

Gaze dropping in shame, his features form a grimace. “I tried,” he croaks out, gesturing at his chest with one hand. “Tried to stop feeling like this. Tried to move on, tried to-” He exhales sharply, tilting his head side to side, something torn playing out with the movement. “It didn’t work. Nothin’ worked. Didn’t even make it easier. But I was afraid to face it. Really face it. So I just kept going.”

It hurts.

It hurts in a way you don’t know how to hold. Don’t know how to carry.

You thought, for so long, that the way you love him, ache for him, is a one-sided agony.

But he is confessing to you, eyes red and weary, voice splintering, telling you that he’s been afraid to speak it aloud too.

That he loves you, that he tried to kill it, that he thought losing himself in someone else would somehow erase you from his mind.

Bucky’s words are a fist curling around your ribs, squeezing the air from your lungs.

It should matter. It should mean something that he’s standing in front of you, breaking apart, pleading for you to understand. Shouldn’t it be enough that he’s telling you it was always you? That no one else ever came close?

But he still touched them.

Still chose them, even if only for a meaningless night.

While you sat in your room, staring at the ceiling, wondering if you were going insane. While you clenched your fists so tight beneath your sheets at night, biting your tongue, swallowing it down, because Bucky is your friend and friends don’t ache like this.

And yet, he is telling you, showing you, he aches too.

But instead of sitting with it, instead of letting it consume him the way it consumed you, he tried to make it disappear.

He tried to fuck it away.

And now he looks at you like you are the only thing that has ever mattered, like the ground beneath his feet, is unsteady, like he is afraid you are going to bolt at any second.

You feel like the ground beneath your feet shits a fraction of an inch, not enough to send you falling, but enough to make you question if you were ever standing solid in the first place.

“But, doll, it-” he rushes forward, watching your pain, stepping into your space until there is barely anything between you. “It never meant anything. Swear to god, none of ‘em ever meant something to me.” His hands wrap around yours, squeezing, grounding, begging. “They weren’t you. Couldn’t be you. Didn’t matter how hard I tried, how many times I told myself to stop thinking about you because you’re supposed to be my best friend, but I wanted so much more than that - it didn’t matter. Nothin’ worked.”

He is struggling to force the words out, but he does. And they leave him with a catch in his voice. Faltering.

“I thought about you, sweetheart. Every fuckin’ time.” His voice turns frantic and he leans in to make it convince you. He watches your lips tremble and shakes his head quickly. “Thought about how you’d feel. How you’d sound.”

Your breath stalls.

Bucky swallows, taking a quick pause but continuing, voice growing softer. Lower. Reverent. “Tried to picture you instead. How you’d look under me, wrapped around me. So goddamn beautiful.” His voice cracks. “But it wasn’t you. And I know it was wrong, but I couldn’t help it.”

He stumbles over his words, afraid of saying too much, of pushing too far, or admitting too much - but it doesn’t stop hurting.

Even if you know it might not be fair.

But the thought of him with them, the thought of his hands gripping someone else’s skin, his lips murmuring something soft against someone else’s throat - it makes you sick.

And he sees it.

You try to blink back another wave of tears.

His hands are on your face again, thumbs swiping furiously at your damp cheeks like he can rub the hurt away.

“Please tell me I didn’t ruin this.” His voice cracks through the words, the panic breaking through. Your silence seems to suffocate him, squeezing his ribs until there is no space left for air.

“I’m so sorry, baby! I wish I could take it all back. I would.” His bottom lip trembles and he bites down on it before continuing. “Tell me I can fix this. There’s gotta be somethin’ I can do. Anything.”

You blink rapidly, vision swimming, breath hiccuping in your throat. You don’t know if there is anything to fix, if there was ever anything there, to begin with, but he is looking at you like there was. Like there is. Like it is still hanging in the air between you, waiting to be caught, waiting to be named.

And you want to catch it. To press it to your heart and cherish it.

But the wounds are fresh. Still bleeding. Still open.

The images you conjured up in your mind, him with all those girls. The sounds of him bringing one after the other home - the routine.

The giggling. The keys. The apartment door. More giggling. His chuckles. The hallway. His bedroom door. The goodbyes. The mornings.

But worst of all is that you can’t even blame him.

Because what was he supposed to do? Wait for something that was never promised? Hold out hope for something that was never offered?

You had no claim on him.

But still, you hate how he tried to fuck you out of his system. Hate that he couldn’t, that he’s standing here now, telling you it was all for nothing, that you were always in his head, in his bones, and that that somehow is supposed to make it better.

You don’t know if it does now. But you hope - you hope so dearly - that it will get better. If he’ll stick with you.

“No more girls.” The words choke out of you, weak and broken, barely a breath. But he jolts like you have screamed them.

“Never,” he breathes immediately, shaking his head as if to get rid of his own images, gripping you tighter, his thumbs pressing into your cheeks, his eyes burning through yours. “No more, baby. No one else. Not ever.”

Your breath catches, body sways.

There is a burn behind your ribs, not quite pain, but not far from it. It is something that pulses in time with your heartbeat. Too quick. Too uneven.

“Only you,” he adds, his forehead dropping to yours, noses brushing, his breath warm against your lips, his hands trembling where they hold you. “It’s only ever been you.”

Heat rises up your throat, something between nausea and electricity, a burst of too much all at once.

“I got a lot to make up for.” His tone is unraveling at the seams. But it sounds firmer now. Convicted. “I know that. I know I- fuck, I screwed this up before I even knew I had a chance. And that’s on me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, because it’s too much - his voice, his touch, the way he is looking at you like you hung the damn moon when you’ve spent years feeling invisible to him in the way that mattered.

“I don’t wanna rush this, alright?”

You blink up at him. Your chest feels stretched too tight, as if the ribs themselves are holding onto something they shouldn’t, something too large, something too consuming.

“I don’t wanna mess this up more than I already have. I don’t wanna push or expect anythin’ from you - I just wanna do this right. For you.” His voice wavers on the last word, still scared of saying the wrong thing, scared of losing something he only just realized he had. “You understand me?”

You nod wordlessly. Almost feeling hypnotized by him. His eyes are so intense. So full.

“I’ve been waitin’ for this, hopin’ for this - Christ, I don’t even know how long.”

Your stomach flips, something curling in your stomach at the heaviness of his confession, at the realization that you weren’t alone in this. Maybe never have been.

“And now that it’s happenin’ - now that I have you, even if I don’t deserve it - I wanna take my time. I wanna make this good for you. Have to. I have to make this right,” he says, voice filled with something gravelly, rough like something barely holding together.

His fingers slide over your jaw, tracing along the column of your throat, memorizing the feel of you beneath his hands.

“And I hate-” his voice falters, eyes squeezing shut for a moment before he forces himself to look at you again. “I hate that it’s happening like this. That I hurt you first. That I didn’t see this sooner.”

“Bucky-”

He cuts you off with his eyes and a shake of his head.

“Please I- I gotta do this. Gotta say this, baby.”

You nod.

He closes his eyes again for a moment like he wants to go back and shake his past self by the shoulders, tell him to wake the hell up and stop hurting the one girl he ever cared about.

He continues, voice hoarse. “I would do anything to make this different. Better. The way you deserve.”

Your breath is shallow, not quite catching, but hovering just short of where it should be, as if your body can’t decide whether to brace itself for collapse.

You’ve spent so long breaking for him, wanting him in ways he never seemed to want you back. But now he is pouring his heart out and asking for something he already has but isn’t sure he is worthy of.

“You don’t gotta say anythin’ right now, doll,” Bucky whispers. Afraid of scaring you off. “I know I shoulda told you sooner.” He grimaces, disgusted with himself. “I shoulda known sooner. I was so fuckin’ stupid. So fuckin’ blind.”

You don’t even notice you started leaning further into him.

Bucky stares at you for a moment. You look back.

“I don’t deserve you,” he says quietly. Whispers really. He exhales shakily and you feel the breath fan along your cheeks. “But I swear to God, I will.”

You don’t weigh the hurt against the want, don’t let the war in your head talk you out of your next move.

Your hands reach up, curling into the fabric of his shirt and before he can say anything else - before he can tear himself apart further - you kiss him.

And for a split second, Bucky freezes.

Not believing this is happening, not expecting it even after everything he just told you.

But then, he exhales this soft and quivering breath against your lips, relief knocking the air out of his lungs.

One hand flies to your waist, pulling you in, the other threading into your hair. He kisses you back like he is starving, like he has been dying for this, like he can’t believe you are real and this moment is something he’s imagined a thousand times but never thought he’d get to have.

And he is so warm. So solid. His lips move against yours, soft and slow at first - savoring you, afraid to go too fast, to push too much. But when you let out a little sigh and your fingers tighten, Bucky melts, pressing in closer, enveloping you in his arms in a way that has you feeling he tries to make sure you never go anywhere else again.

He breathes you in like you are something holy, tilting your head and deepening the kiss. He is not forceful. He takes what he can get and he cherishes it. Like he said, he wants to take his time with you. It makes you fall in love with him even more.

It’s like he can’t believe you are even letting him have this. But he kisses you with a hope and a determination that this will not be the only time he gets to have this.

And when you pull back again, he rests his forehead against yours once more. You feel the way his chest rises and falls against your own, the way his breath shakes, the way his grip does not loosen at all.

“Jesus, doll,” he rasps, panting. “You tryna kill me?”

And the way he says it, the way he looks at you, so full of longing and desire and relief makes you realize that maybe he’s been suffering just as much as you have.

“I want you. It’s as simple as that. I’ve spent a great deal too much of my life already trying to convince myself that I can make do with less but I can’t. You hear me? I’m done. I’m not giving up. A life without you is not enough.”

- Beau Taplin

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mirai-e-jump · 10 hours ago

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Bakuage Sentai Boonboomger Photobook: Don't Stop the BoonBoom Main Cast Member Interviews (translations and other pages below, very long post)

Publication: February 14, 2025

Iuchi Haruhi (Taiya Hando)

-Taiya cranks up his mood without showing emotion-

Everyone wrapped up filming together. At the time, it really didn't hit me. I think it was about two days later that I actually felt it……

Over this past year, I had a routine that I set up for myself, where the day before filming, I'd reread the script for corresponding scenes, and always make sure to do a final check before going to sleep. However, I guess that's come to an end. Now that filming is completely over, I feel alittle sad, as I can actually sense that Taiya's fading away.

Regarding Taiya, when I look back, the first thing I was conscious of was raising my mental age and trying to play my role as a calm character. However, if I made him too cool, he'd be too similar to Chasshiro, so instead of expressing his emotions, I'd crank up parts of his mood……I put great value into those kinds of things while acting.

The first scene we filmed was for the first episode, where Taiya buys the luxury brand store. I remember I didn't know how to move in relation to the camera's position, and was just trying to figure it all out. Not long after that, I had the opportunity to film my Boonboom Change, and when I put on the Boonboom suit for the first time, I had the feeling of, "I'm a hero!" The other thing I remember well was post recording with Director Nakazawa's team during episodes 1-3. At first, I held back my voice in order to keep it in line with Taiya's character, but when Director Nakazawa told me to "make it much more louder," I realized that it was "okay for him to be in high spirits after the Change." That became one of the opportunities for me to broaden my perspective of Taiya Hando.

I'd been going out to eat with the other members since fairly early on, but as filming progressed, it was exciting to see the number of friends increase one by one. The first climax for the five Boonboomger members was in episodes 8 and 9, when Taiya rushed over to them and said, "This is the most…," to which the other four replied, "Cranked up." It was an unforgettable, passionate scene. I think this moment slightly changed the way Taiya interacted with everyone.

Also, the presence of Yu-kun, who joined us halfway through, was a big deal. Until then, I had always thought that the right thing to do was to act according to the image the professional Directors or Cameramen had in their minds, so I had never thought of acting based on my own initiative. However, when I watched Yu-kun, he'd constantly make suggestions like, "I wanna move like this, but what do you think?," and I saw the course of things change, as those on set would respond with, "Alright then, let's go with that!" That's when I started reading the script with the thought of, "As one of the people creating this show, I also have to get involved on set!," and my attitude once again changed alittle bit.

-A dream filled ending typical of Boonboomger-

In episode 24, I was also happy to have my special skill of playing the guitar put to good use. As a matter of fact, during our first meeting, the Producers asked me, "Do you have any special skills?," to which I answered, "I can sing and play the guitar." That's when the Screenwriter's desire to "write about Taiya's first love" was incorporated, causing the episode to materialize. The script doesn't go as far as to depict what happened to Mahiro Sensei, but I wanted to understand it in my own way, so I talked to the Director and Producers before I went into it, and I even imagined what kind of feelings Taiya would be having and wrote them down in a notebook. The subject of the story was painful, but the shoot itself was fun. Taiya's a character who I had a hard time getting into, but by depicting him during his childhood, I think I was able to dig deeper into my role.

I pushed myself to the limit towards the very end of Boonboomger and lost about 5kg, which caused some concern as my face began to look really hollow (bitter smile). Still, as a result, I was able to get into it and concentrate while playing Taiya. The scene where he conveys his feelings to the other four during episode 45 was very memorable. In the completed footage of episode 37, a flashback scene was inserted, the one where child Taiya hears sad crying in the next room, and I was there to observe the filming of that scene. I wanted to internalize Taiya's feelings, so I asked and was allowed to sit in the same spot after they filmed it. I performed the scene with the other four in episode 45 with that in mind, so I was able to convey Taiya's feelings clearly.

I liked the last scene in the final episode. I thought the reversed situation was good, as it concludes with us five who protected Earth leaving for space, and Sakito, who had said that he "abandoned Earth," staying behind. For me, it was a conclusion that I would've never imagined. I was really excited while filming our participation in the BBG, and being able to say the line "Let's get cranked up!" at the very last moment will always remain in my heart. I believe it was a dream filled ending, one truly typical of Bakuage Sentai Boonboomger.

Hayama Yuki (Ishiro Meita)

-I aimed to play a role that anyone would think was cool-

For my role as Ishiro, I first talked with BoonBlue's Suit Actor Yoneoka Takahiro-san about how I wanted to "make him a cool character by any means," and so we decided to aim for a role that anyone would find cool, from his gestures and posture, to his pose when he changes into BoonBlue. Going along with that, his passionate side also came out around episode 6. The Director in charge of each episode enjoyed those playful parts and would tease me about it, so by also adding in some adlibs myself, I think I was able to broaden the range of my role. Yoneoka-san gave an energized performance in the Go-Onger episode, but by seeing that, it made me feel that although Ishiro's a spy of the underground, he was longing for something "sparkling," and I feel that it further expanded my role.

The first time Ishiro's past during his spy era was depicted was in episode 14. It was an episode that showed Ishiro's cool, cranked up appearance, but I felt that if I didn't establish a solid "foundation" here, it would affect how he was seen in the future. That's why I was so fired up to film the flashback scene. I also received tons of motivation from Miu-chan in this episode. Miu-chan has an extensive acting career, and above all else, the ways she delivered her lines were very convincing. The sequence of events that leads to Ishiro being stunned as she says, "You want to protect the place that's important to you, right?!," is a scene that everyone needs to watch. Up to that point, Ishiro had kept abit of a distance from everyone except for Taiya, but I think this was the first time he was willing to approach another member of the team.

The next spy story was in episode 29, which features a scene where I Boonboom Change while fighting against Gong Grumer, and I challenged myself to doing action, which isn't one of my strong points. Also, I was paired up with Sakito. Compared to the other three, he had a greater sense of distance from Sakito, but since they suddenly got involved right from the start, it was difficult trying to figure out how I should treat him. Also, when Sakito says, "You didn't grow up well, huh?," he responds with, "My parents did the same work I'm doing. You can figure out the rest." It's a line that expresses Ishiro's dark past, and he tells it to the person he was most distant from. It was an important moment that brought the two of them closer together.

Episode 37 had alot of action scenes, and I believe I was able to get them done with the support of Action Director Watanabe Jun-san and Yoneoka-san. I think that different people have different interpretations of the relationship between Ishiro and Naito Konomi-san's Sutea, and although we watched each other's performance on set, we never really compromised on things. I hope everyone enjoys speculating on that point. On the opposite end, Director Hayama Koichiro gave me easy to understand examples of how the fake Ishiro would fight against Taiya, which helped me better visualize his image. What's more, for the action scenes involving Taiya, Haruhi stayed with me countless times until I memorized how to do them, which was very helpful.

-If you grab hold of your wheel, things will become clearer-

From episodes 43-47, I think some of you may have been on edge watching Ishiro's actions. Still, since Taiya said in episode 37, "I can tell just by looking into his eyes," it was properly foreshadowed. Although Ishiro pointed his gun at everyone at the end of episode 43, it's important to note that Taiya's reaction at that moment wasn't captured. This was Director Nakazawa Shojiro's goal, as this detail wasn't in the script, but since he and Taiya trust each other without needing to say anything, he purposely left out Taiya's reaction. As for myself, I think that the role Ishiro played during the very end was a great one. Mira's marriage is an homage to the first episode, and his return in episode 47 along with his partner, Boonboom Marine, made me feel "cranked up" when I read the script.

The wrap up for actors was the final roll call during the final episode, and we were all able to finish filming together. Each person's name was then called out on the spot, and everyone would cry. I was determined not to cry, but when they called my name, Producer Kuji Yoshito-san and Director Nakazawa came into my sight, and I couldn't stop crying……I'm not entirely sure if I was able to speak coherently then, but I was truly overwhelmed with emotions in that moment.

The theme of Bakuage Sentai Boonboomger is to "take control of your own wheel," and while it may have looked as if Ishiro had sold his soul to the Hashiriyans during the very end, I believe that he was able to steer his way down the path of victory by taking the wheel in his own way. In reality, things may not always go as planned, but if you grab the wheel without abandoning your beliefs, I'm sure something will become clearer. For us actors, we'd be beyond happy if you could take away such a message from our work.

Suzuki Miu (Mira Shifuto)

-I tried to be conscious of "Mira's feelings" when performing in the second half-

After filming throughout the year, I did have some vague concerns in the beginning, but I'm really glad that we were able to get through it safely without any major accidents or problems occurring. Also, after a year of working with the same staff, I realized just how much fun it is to work together as "friends" to create a production.

As for my role as Mira, I was told that she doesn't "take a backseat to the main character," but is instead the first character that the viewers can emotionally attach themselves to as the story progressed. I knew that if I didn't carefully act out Mira's growth throughout the year, it would appear rushed and unconvincing, and by extension, the story wouldn't hold up. In the beginning however, Mira was presented in a fairly fun way. In the script, her screams were written as "Piyaaa!" (laughs). That was one of the reasons why up until about the halfway point, I was more conscious of how she was being seen from the outside instead of from the inside. However, in the latter half, I tried to play the role with "Mira's feelings" in mind, rather than thinking too much about "how I want her to be seen." In that regard, there may be a big difference between the beginning and the ending. I was also happy that Director Nakazawa Shojiro noticed that and said that "I had changed up my performance quite abit."

In the very beginning, it was fun being teamed up with Chasshiro in episode 6. I think Mira's someone who can be paired up with anyone, but Mira seems to be the only one who can make teasing Chasshiro look amusing (laughs). Even in the scene where we follow Jou, I had alot of fun filming and discussing the details with Yuki-kun, such as how we'd hide ourselves by retying our shoelaces and hiding behind a telephone pole.

Episodes 8 and 9 was the first crisis that the Boonboomgers faced, and the atmosphere on set was tense and different compared to the previous episodes. During all this, I think it was just like Mira to vent her feelings towards Taiya at the end of episode 8 with, "Why would you do such a reckless thing?" However, I could understand the feelings they both had, and condemning someone for something you're not aware of was pretty difficult to perform. I thought it'd be bad if she came off as being too confrontational, so I played the role hoping to convey Mira's honesty.

-I love how everyone in Boonboomger lives their lives to the fullest-

There were multiple main episodes for Mira, such as episodes 14, 20 and 31, but episode 36, in which I performed with Mori Hinami-chan, is the most memorable. When she learns that Aki, played by Hinamin, had given up on her dream, she speaks her mind by saying, "It's frustrating….that unlike how Taiya is with Boon-chan…..I can't make her dream come true." I had discussions with Director Watanabe Katsuya about that scene, and I thought about it alot myself. Mira's story began with her easygoing personality in the first episode, but up until then, there were very few scenes depicting her being worried. Mira's usually cheerful and in high spirits, so I wondered, "Would it be okay to show her being worried?," but I think it's her worries that really show the strength of their friendship.

Also in this episode, there's a scene where I Boonboom Changed without the helmet, so I also played the last scene where the mask was equipped. I was advised to pull my chin up in order to look cooler, but I was pretty scared since my field of vision was limited and I could only see my feet. Still, I ran as hard as I could, hoping that I'd look cool.

I think the major event at the end of the show was the development of Mira's decision to get married, which was depicted in episode 47. To be honest, I had something that was worrying me as the story was unfolding, and I talked to the Producers about it. Even though she became a Boonboomger in the first episode and was working hard at her part time jobs, I wondered, does Mira have any big dreams in her life? They created this development based on that. I wanted Mira to have a dream, but instead, it's Mira's strong desire to help the people in front of her that helped her grow so much. I took this as a message that the staff had prepared for my sake. During the actual shoot, after she decided to get married, there was the line, "This is how I'll grab hold of my wheel," and just looking at everyone's faces made me cry……I believe that this performance came out because I'd been building up my role as Mira and trusting everyone.

Based on the title, many of you may have thought that Bakuage Sentai Boonboomger was a cheerful and upbeat production. I myself am one of those people, but with six people, there were six different lives, and now that it's all over, I strongly feel that the appeal of this show was that "each and every one of them overcame their struggles and became stronger." For myself personally, I have always and will always love the way everyone in Boonboomger lives their lives to the fullest.

Saito Ryu (Jou Akuse)

-I was surprised at how similar I was to Jou Akuse-

When I was in elementary school, I served as class president and was known for being a rather serious type of person. However, I wasn't serious at all, as I had more of a clumsy side in comparison (laughs). That's why when I first learned about Jou's setting, I was very surprised at how similar he seemed to myself. Also, my own father is a firefighter, so I felt a sense of familiarity towards his role as a police officer, as they're also civil servants. That being the case, I thought, "If I just honestly express all the feelings I've had over the past 19 years of my life, I might be able to become Jou Akuse." During the beginning, I went into filming with those types of thoughts in mind.

Jou's real role began in episode 5, but the first scene we filmed was in the first episode, where he gets wrapped up in one of Wedding Dress Grumer's dresses. It was fun to see his clumsiness immediately come out, but Director Nakazawa Shojiro had told me, "It's fine to make as much noise as you'd like." At the time, my performative skills were still lacking, so I was abit confused. I now have the confidence that I can make things more interesting (laughs).

I put alot of effort into the fight scene against Darts Grumer in episode 5. I knew from the moment I read the script that the action leading up to my Boonboom Change was "an absolute must." During filming, Darts Grumer's Suit Actor Imai Yasuhiko-san lent me his support by saying, "It's okay to go all out," and under the passionate direction of Director Watanabe Katsuya, we filmed with my entire body getting covered in sand and dust. That day, I went home and shampooed my hair about six times, but sand kept falling from my head (laughs), and even when I rewatch it now, I can see just how much strain I put on my body. Director Watanabe also helped me out alot in the episode where I'm paired up with Mira, but I think episode 5 was the starting point for me as Jou.

From the moment we met, I became good friends with the other cast members. We didn't have many opportunities to meet until episode 4, but after episode 5, I think we were able to join up smoothly from episode 6 onwards. I was happy to finally be able to film together with everyone.

In episode 6, he immediately gets involved with Mira and Shiro Senpai, and I was also grateful for all the opportunities after that where Jou played a bigger role, such as in the Kaseki Grumer episode, the candy detective episode where he teamed up with Genba, and the baseball episode. What's more, they were all crazy episodes (laughs). Especially for episodes 21 and 23, the one in charge of them was Director Kato Hiroyuki, and he's the kind of Director who'll constantly incorporate alot of funny things, so I also had alot of fun while getting into a playful mood. In episode 21, there's a scene where I interact with Genba in my afro hairstyle, and I thought it'd turn out funnier the more serious I performed it. I took these kinds of things into consideration when I performed.

-I cried so much during the wrap up, that I was teased by everyone around me (laughs)-

Episode 40 was the episode where I myself felt a sense of accomplishment. After episode 15 aired, I received feedback from various people telling me that "it was good," but it was thanks to Director Hayama Koichiro, who brought out Jou's appeal, that I as an actor felt the desire to show off even more of my performative range. This time, episode 40 was naturally made possible thanks to Morichi Natsumi-san's wonderful script, and Director Nakazawa and Cinematographer Kamiaka Toshikazu-san's strong tag team, but I could personally feel the growth I had made up to that point, and the line, "There's no such thing as a 100% perfect hero," went viral on SNS, with the great response from those around me also giving me confidence.

Filming for the last chapter progressed at a good pace, and it felt like it went by in the blink of an eye. During this time, what surprised me was Chasshiro's betrayal and Boon-chan's defeat. I had only heard alittle bit about it beforehand, but when it was time to read the script, I was shocked and thought, "Are you serious?!" And then, Jou quit being a police officer, and in episode 46, he was confronted by his senior officer played by Takada Masashi-san……I didn't expect things to turn out this way, so I had abit of trouble trying to wrap my head around the situation. It was as big of a situation for me as it was for Jou. In the end, the five of us left for space, so I interpreted it with, "I guess he's on temporary leave for the time being?"

The Assistant Director made the necessary adjustments to our schedules so that everyone would be able to be together for the wrap up. The night before the last day of filming, I cried all alone at home due to feeling lonely, so on the very day of filming, I thought I'd be fine since I cried ahead of time. However, when I saw the face of BoonBlack's Suit Actor, Shige-san, I couldn't help but cry. I was crying so much that everyone around me jokingly said, "You're crying way too much!" (laughs). Over the past year, there were times where I was guided gently, and times where I was guided strictly, but I was truly happy on this set.

Soma Satoru (Genba Bureki)

-From being a Procurer with a detached position to becoming friends with the Boonboomgers-

When it was decided that I'd be playing the role of Genba Bureki, I was told that, unlike the other members, I'd be "playing an alien." However, since I didn't know the reason why he was always licking lollipops or the beliefs that he held, I had to make detailed adjustments all the time while thinking, "I guess it'd be alright if I did this much." It was around the time we were filming the Summer film when I learned about the developments for the second half of the story, and I thought that his feelings toward Nicola, who was invaded by Hashiriyans, were different from everyone else's, so I was conscious of those expressions in my performance.

In the beginning, I didn't have much to work with, so I was trying to figure out how to say distinctive lines such as "Seems like you're in trouble" in a way that felt right to me. There's abit of a suspicious, older feel to him, and I thought it'd be great if I could add some expressions that were unique to Genba. The first thing we filmed was the scene in episode 2, when he receives a job request from Taiya. From episodes 1-6, he had watched them from a detached position as a Procurer, so I was very happy when we were ready to film episode 7, as he joins the Boonboomger's as their friend.

In episode 10, I was able to do some action before his transformation. I was confident in my athletic abilities, but the movements done by BoonOrange's Suit Actor Ono Yukimasa-kun, who showed me some examples, were amazing, and while I felt alittle overwhelmed, I tried to do my best. Ono-kun and I would both always talk about "how we felt during this part," and I was always amazed by the action I saw during post recording.

His destined rival Disrace appeared at the end of episode 26, and he left Boonboomger in episode 27. There's a scene where he says, "That's why I'm giving up my front row seat," and as myself, I definitely didn't want to leave, but at the same time, he doesn't want to involve his friends any further, so……it was quite difficult for me to perform. After that, I didn't get to see everyone as often as I would've liked to, and there were also no good opportunities to go out and eat together. That's why when he returned in episode 33, I was so happy that I couldn't help but talk nonstop with everyone on set (laughs).

During filming of episode 33, I almost cried when I said the line, "This is the place where I belong," and I was also deeply moved when Taiya asked, "What has the Procurer procured for us?" to which I answer, "Myself, of course." The scene where all of us perform the Boonboom Change also suddenly made me feel that "having friends is great." I was personally grateful for the fact that both episodes 27 and 33 were done by Director Nakazawa, as I was able to make progress while consulting with him.

-One thing remains for Genba, that being his important mission to retake planet Bureki-

I also enjoyed being together with Sakito during the soccer episode. We're both from Shizuoka, and I'm a Shimizu S-Pulse supporter, so because of this connection, we were invited to participate in an event by Shimizu S-Pulse in September. As for the drama, he clashes with Sakito, and well, fighting doesn't bring them closer together, but because they both love soccer, it seems like they let out more unnecessary feelings than usual. They had clashed before in episode 32, but I think they were finally able to work out their differences in this episode.

I had the feeling that the "end" was gradually approaching during the final stages of filming, but in the final episode, when their transformations are cancelled during the battle with Spindo, as we were filming the scene where they stand up while conveying their feelings, the feeling that "it was finally coming to an end" suddenly hit me. Here, Genba says, "In this universe, that's what we call love," but combined with the location, which captured the sunset, and the atmosphere on set, it made me get more into it.

The ending was a beautiful conclusion, but as for Genba, he still hasn't retaken planet Bureki. Because there's still an important mission left to do, it didn't finish with a happy ending, however, they were able to defeat both Grantu and Spindo and save Earth, so it was still a big step in the right direction.

Now that it's all over, I feel alittle sad since I no longer have to spend time thinking about the next day's shoot. Looking back, I really didn't know what I was doing a year ago, but I'm here now thanks to all the fans who supported me, and over the past year, through the feedback I received at events and on SNS, I was motivated by the fact that I was involved in a production that was loved by so many people. I'll work even harder so that everyone who got to know me through Bakuage Sentai Boonboomger will see a different side of me. I look forward to your continued support!

Miyazawa Yu (Sakito Homura)

-I was able to gain experience both as myself and as Sakito Homura-

When I "encountered" Sakito at the audition, I felt that he was so similar to me, that I thought, "If I fail this, I don't think I'll ever have a chance in any tokusatsu production." Once I entered filming, I was very happy to hear that Director Hayama Koichiro said on set that he had "wanted to film Miyazawa as Sakito." When he makes his entrance during episode 16, I played the role with the impression that he was an overly self conscious perfectionist, but as things continued with episodes 17 and 18 being done by Director Kato Hiroyuki, I was able to bring out more of his weaknesses.

During the joint reading session before I went into filming, the Director and Producers said that they wanted me to "act in a childish way," but I was thinking of taking my performance in a slightly different direction, so the most important thing was being able to create Sakito on my own terms. Also, I think that by looking for places where I could be abit playful on set, I was able to gain experience both as myself and as Sakito Homura.

Episode 41 is an episode that I'm deeply attached to, as I was able to incorporate my special skill of playing soccer. The "Pulse Ace" that appears is a play on Shimizu S-Pulse, but I used to be a member of Shimizu S-Pulse's lower division when I was in middle school, and I was deeply moved by the collaboration event between Boonboomger and Shimizu S-Pulse that took place during the broadcast. The story was rich in content, with its appropriate comedic feel, our passion for soccer, and my pairing with Genba, so I think the viewers enjoyed it. Among other things, the scene where Genba and I pass the ball to each other with napalm exploding in the background had to be done in one take, so I had a fairly long discussion with Satoru beforehand. It was quite difficult even for experienced players like us, as there was gravel everywhere we stepped, and the unique shape of the Boonboom suit's shoes made kicking the ball feel different, but fortunately, we got the OK with our very first attempt. In terms of the story, his clash with Genba reminded me of the sumo episode, and I also thought it was typical of the younger Jou for being so straightforward and acting as their middle man. That scene was effective because of Ryu's careful performance, and I thought it turned out to be a very good scene where you'd naturally think, "If Jou said it, then it must be right."

-The final scene where Sakito remains on the Earth personally gave me goosebumps-

After the soccer episode and Christmas episode, the final stages of the show had some dramatic developments, but episode 45 was the one that I put the most effort into. Bundorio stopped functioning, the Boonboomgers were split up, and Taiya was mentally out of it. During all this, Sakito and Byundi confront the Hashiriyans together……It was a hot development, as the man who abandoned Earth now fought to protect it, but in playing Sakito, I saw it as a "fight to protect his friends." If we go back to episode 18, Sakito said, "I just wanna protect my only friend and his family," but I believe that episode 45 encapsulates the change in his feelings from that point on. This episode was directed by Director Hayama, who also did the episode where I first appeared, and the scene where I pushed my way through the crowd and shouted, "You guys…didn't the Boonboomgers save you?!," was a direction given to me by the Director, so I myself also wanted to live up to the trust he put in me.

In the final episode, I felt the team's unity as they defeated Spindo, and I also thought it was wonderful that everyone's individual scenes were properly depicted. I hope that you were able to feel that high level of unity. And, the final scene where Sakito remains on Earth personally gave me goosebumps. When I first read the script, I thought, "Uwah, this is seriously good!" Living on Earth, the number of people he came to love steadily increased, and it seemed to match up with the way Sakito lives his life, so I'm satisfied with it. I felt that there was nothing wrong with the performance I had been doing, and I can only thank all the staff members for preparing and directing such a conclusion.

The last scene we filmed was our final roll call. This was the end of filming, but the show was still going on, so to be honest, I didn't really feel it. However, when the time came for them to address me, I couldn't help but tear up when I saw the large number of staff members.

I had been involved since episode 16, and was very excited to be in the position of shaking things up as the additional member, and I feel that the feedback I've gotten in regards to that has been good. The show itself will remain even after the broadcast is over, so we'd all be happy if people said, "Boonboomger was great, wasn't it?" We don't know yet if there'll be an anniversary project in the future, but I hope that Bakuage Sentai Boonboomger will remain in the hearts of all the fans forever!

Handwritten Messages

Iuchi Haruhi

"What was the most cranked up scene that you performed as Taiya Hando over the past year?" The scene in the final episode where everyone says, "This is the most cranked up!"

"What did you think was the "coolest part" about Boonboomger (or Taiya Hando)?" The parts were he wouldn't ignore!

"What part of Taiya Hando's "costume" or "weapons" did you think was cranked up?" The tool design of the weapons!

"A word to Taiya Hando!" LOVE

"A word to your Boonboomger friends!" I'm glad it was the six of us…I had fun. Thank you!

"A word to all the fans!" Thank you so much for your support over the past year! I look forward to your continued support!

Hayama Yuki

"What was the most cranked up scene that you performed as Ishiro Meita over the past year?" Bakuage 29's action scenes.

"What did you think was the "coolest part" about Boonboomger (or Ishiro Meita)?" His activities as an Informant.

"What part of Ishiro Meita's "costume" or "weapons" did you think was cranked up?" His three piece suit and necktie that would change every episode. That you could turn the Boonboom Handle with just one hand!

"A word to Ishiro Meita!" I love you.

"A word to your Boonboomger friends!" Ishiro had trouble fitting, so thank you for looking out for him!

"A word to all the fans!" Thank you for your cranked up support!

Suzuki Miu

"What was the most cranked up scene that you performed as Mira Shifuto over the past year?" Episode 36's helmetless running scene.

"What did you think was the "coolest part" about Boonboomger (or Mira Shifuto)?" That she worked hard for the sake of someone else instead of herself.

"What part of Mira Shifuto's "costume" or "weapons" did you think was cranked up?" That you could hold Boonboom Handle's Rod Mode upside down (it's dangerous, so good children shouldn't imitate that!)

"A word to Mira Shifuto!" Mira being cheerful gave me tons of energy! Thank you :)

"A word to your Boonboomger friends!" I was really happy with the six of us! We're forever friends!!!

"A word to all the fans!" I wouldn't have made it this far without everyone's voices of support. Thank you so much!

Saito Ryu

"What was the most cranked up scene that you performed as Jou Akuse over the past year?" My first transformation.

"What did you think was the "coolest part" about Boonboomger (or Jou Akuse)?" Getting dirty.

"What part of Jou Akuse's "costume" or "weapons" did you think was cranked up?" His police uniform.

"A word to Jou Akuse!" You're an honourable man!! Make sure to zip up your fly properly!!

"A word to your Boonboomger friends!" Thank you for the past year! Sorry for when I acted out of line 🖤

"A word to all the fans!" Thank you for your support over the past year! I look forward to your continued support.

Soma Satoru

"What was the most cranked up scene that you performed as Genba Bureki over the past year?" When after leaving once, he reprocured himself through his friends.

"What did you think was the "coolest part" about Boonboomger (or Genba Bureki)?" With every episode, his friends became the embodiment of "taking control of your own wheel."

"What part of Genba Bureki's "costume" or "weapons" did you think was cranked up?" His fluttering costume made action scenes look more attractive.

"A word to Genba Bureki!" I'm glad you returned to Boonboomger!

"A word to your Boonboomger friends!" Thank you for trusting me and waiting for me ^_^

"A word to all the fans!" Thank you so much for always giving us tons of support!

Miyazawa Yu

"What was the most cranked up scene that you performed as Sakito Homura over the past year?" The six person transformation in Bakuage 48!

"What did you think was the "coolest part" about Boonboomger (or Sakito Homura)?" Honestly gaining control of your own wheel!

"What part of Sakito Homura's "costume" or "weapons" did you think was cranked up?" All of it!

"A word to Sakito Homura!" Sakito Homura! Enjoy living a chaotic life on Earth!

"A word to your Boonboomger friends!" Claim absolute victory in the BBG!!

"A word to all the fans!" Thank you for your support in Bakuage Sentai Boonboomger over the past year! It was the most cranked up year!!

The Heroes Cranked Up Roundtable A long roundtable discussion with the six cast members who played the heroes who protected Earth. They'll talk about their memories from the past year, as well as bombshell stories that can only be talked about now?!

-The six cranked up members have gathered-

"First, please tell us about the relationship between the six of you after spending about a year together."

Hayama: In the beginning it was just Satoru-kun, but the older members were extremely reliable.

Suzuki: Yeah.

Hayama: We got so used to it, that we slowly started to develop a habit of screwing around with them (laughs).

Soma: That's right (laughs).

Hayama: Still, I think it's because they both allowed us to do that that people have come to say, "Boonboomger had some great vibes."

Iuchi: That was a big part of it.

Miyazawa: Y'know, I'm not sure if we've forgiven you yet (laughs).

Soma: Right?

Hayama: Even in this interview, we can talk about how we mess with them, so in that sense, Satoru-kun and Zawa-nii are the greatest.

Miyazawa: I suppose so (laughs).

Suzuki: The youngest members, Haruhi-kun and Ryu-kun, are both 20, while Zawa-kun is the oldest at 29 years old, so the age difference between us is the kind where you wouldn't normally have many opportunities to interact so closely. However, I still think the reason we were able to get along so well was because we were together for a year.

Miyazawa: Normally, I'd be concerned about both sides of the situation.

Iuchi: You were cautious.

Hayama: He was, wasn't he?

Soma: In the beginning, Zawa-kun didn't get involved with us at all for some reason.

Miyazawa: That's because there's a generational gap between us (laughs).

Iuchi: I felt the same way too. At first, it was the age difference, and since I went to an entertainment high school that didn't have any club activities, I rarely had any opportunities to interact with my seniors.

Miyazawa: And yet now we're like family.

Soma: We've even been asked, "Are you guys related?"

Suzuki: During the wrap up, the staff had said, "You guys look like relatives."

Miyazawa: It made me realize that even though there's a 9 year gap between us, we become friends.

Hayama: Of course, we weren't just playing around, as Zawa-kun drew a clear line when it came to work, and I really received a ton of inspiration from him. The only exception is Soma-san (laughs).

Soma: So that's how it is, huh? How strange (laughs).

"I see, so this is how you "tease those older than you" (laughs)."

Soma: Even though Hayama-kun and I go out to eat together pretty often…

Iuchi Hayama Suzuki Saito Miyazawa: (laughs).

"Did Soma-san and Miyazawa-san have to worry about anything when dealing with the younger members?"

Soma: I was the oldest of the original five, so I didn't want them to view me as "scary" (laughs). I wanted them to be able to be carefree, so I aimed to create a "Buddha" like appearance, someone who was accepting of everybody (laughs). By the way, we're being interviewed right now while eating our bentos, and Ryu just stole my tamagoyaki……

Saito: He won't get mad at all if I take it from him (laughs).

Soma: No, no, I told you tamagoyaki is my favorite, c'mon now! This is how they mercilessly tease us (laughs).

Iuchi Hayama Suzuki Miyazawa: (laughs).

Miyazawa: I joined in the middle of the show, but after it was decided that I would perform, I searched up information on who I'd be working with. That's when I was like, "They're all younger than me!" (laughs).

Soma: I get that. You were shocked, huh?

Miyazawa: However, I still thought that there was only one person "below me."

Soma: Who? Ryu maybe?

Miyazawa: No, like you, I'm from Shizuoka. That's why I thought you'd be the first one I talked to (laughs).

Suzuki: Did you think you'd have a better opportunity with Satoru-kun since you're both closer in age?

Miyazawa: Yeah. It's because even Miu-chan and I are about five years apart.

Soma: That's true.

Miyazawa: Before we became friends, I wondered if we would even get along.

Suzuki: Usually, when there's that much of an age difference you're like, "Where do we start?"

Miyazawa: I've also said this elsewhere, but at the same time I was having my costume fit, Miu-chan and Ryu came running to the makeup room and excitedly said, "Uwah, so this is Violet!" At that moment, I felt that everything would be alright. Or, perhaps what I mean to say is that I was the one who took a step back (laughs).

Suzuki: That's right! In another interview, Zawa-kun had said that he was grateful for the two of us closing the distance between him, but just recently, when the topic happened to come up in a private conversation, he said, "To be honest, I was abit put off at the time" (laughs).

Saito: That's harsh (laughs).

Miyazawa: It's because of how energetic you kids are.

Iuchi: You're always saying that.

Suzuki: We're all energetic.

Hayama: Right, we tend to hear that alot.

Miyazawa: That's how it is now, but in the beginning I had the feeling of, "How should I deal with them?"

Iuchi: At first, I felt like I had to talk to them as adults, but Satoru-kun and Yu-kun were the ones to bring a stop to that. That's why I'm very grateful for them.

Soma: In our group chat, Haruhi initially used a large amount of emojis, which made me think, "Ah, he's being cautious" (laughs).

Iuchi: Ah, I didn't realize you had seen right through me (laughs).

Soma: I noticed it from the very beginning.

Suzuki: I see. He did use a large amount of them.

Miyazawa: Is that so? I would've liked to have seen that.

Soma: By the time Zawa-kun joined us, he was no longer doing that.

Suzuki: It's because you "brought a stop to that," remember?

Hayama: (he looks at Miyazawa-san) And here I thought you were a good guy.

Miyazawa: Hey!

Iuchi Suzuki Saito Soma: (laughs).

Miyazawa: To begin with, our generations are so different, that I don't know what's popular. People of my generation would do stuff like go to karaoke.

Soma: Yeah. Things like what's popular and fun among today's youth.

Miyazawa: I had no idea about TikTok or anything like that (laughs).

Soma: You know, the way people say TikTok now is with an intonation! (laughs).

Miyazawa: Eh, it's that true?

Soma:……that's how it seems.

Miyazawa: However, it was a completely different story when I entered the set. I was conscious of the fact that it was our place of work.

Soma: There was a clear distinction in the way you'd switch.

Miyazawa: Right, which is the most important thing!

"Do you have any painful or difficult stories that you can only talk about now?"

Iuchi: What's okay to say? (laughs).

Saito: Ah, I was late once.

Suzuki: Wha!

Iuchi: Do you feel remorseful about it?

Saito: I do.

Suzuki: I don't know what to take away from this.

Soma: Just let it play out (laughs).

Saito: However, I made it in time for the shoot itself.

Miyazawa: No, no, that's totally normal then (laughs).

Saito: When you've been doing something like this for a long time, you inevitably start to slack off, huh?

Suzuki: You can't say that about yourself! (laughs).

Iuchi Hayama Soma Miyazawa: (laughs).

Iuchi: What was abit difficult for me during filming was not using my bike. I didn't ride it throughout the filming period because I didn't want to cause trouble if I had an accident. Besides, with it being my first time living in Tokyo, I thought I'd be fine without a bike, as there are tons of trains in Tokyo. However, once I started living there, I found that there were many places that would take too long to get to if I used the train or bus, but could be reached pretty easily by bike. I'm alittle disappointed that I couldn't even go out and have some casual fun (bitter smile).

Saito: That was a model answer!

Miyazawa: Is it okay to talk about what was difficult for me?

Hayama: The Boonboom dance?

Miyazawa: No (said firmly).

Hayama: Not that, huh?

Miyazawa: Sakito's hair style.

Iuchi Hayama Suzuki Saito Soma: Yeah (they fully agree).

Miyazawa: Every time I went to a shoot, it would become coarse and stiff. After filming, I would have to go home and wash my hair because of how difficult it became.

Suzuki: After filming would finish, we'd say, "Let's all go out for a meal!," but only Zawa-kun would go home and take a shower before rejoining us.

Miyazawa: That's because if I left my hair as it was, my hat would look like it was floating.

Iuchi Hayama Suzuki Saito Soma: (laughs).

Soma: That being said, I had trouble with my hair too.

Miyazawa: What was the case for Satoru? It must've been with your Burekiian form.

Soma: Yeah, it was when I transformed into my Burekiian form.

Hayama: Putting on the makeup too.

Soma: That's right. What's more, my skin is fairly tan.

Saito: Sure is.

Soma: So, I had to apply whitening cream in addition to getting my makeup done. I also had to wear cat eye contacts, but if I blinked even slightly, they would immediately rotate. That's why it was very difficult for me to perform close up shots in that condition.

Suzuki: You wouldn't blink.

Soma: Still, they'd eventually also fall out if I didn't blink for a long time.

Miyazawa: Your contacts fell out countless times.

Soma: Yeah.

Hayama: What comes to mind for me was the action. Exercise has never been one of my strong points, and there were a few times where I just couldn't keep up. To be honest, that was really tough.

Soma: No, no, you were really cool!

Hayama: Really?

Suzuki: Yeah.

Soma: Like in episode 37, you were amazing, don't you think?

Hayama: Well, in any case, I was just desperately trying to keep up.

Suzuki: You seem to have good reflexes.

Miyazawa: And he can dance. Me on the other hand, I'm no good at dancing (laughs).

Hayama: Wasn't it quite difficult for Miu-chan to get into costume?

Suzuki: That's right. There were so many part time outfits, so I remember having to get my costume fit for almost every episode (laughs).

Hayama: You went in to get your costume fit all the time.

Suzuki: Also, my legs were very cold.

Hayama: I had a feeling you'd say that.

Suzuki: Especially during Winter (bitter smile).

Hayama: And, those weren't even the worst ones. There's the wedding dress you wore in the final episode.

Suzuki: Yeah.

Hayama: You had to have the staff help you when you moved.

Suzuki: I couldn't move without my attendants.

Hayama: "Attendants" (laughs).

Miyazawa: It really seemed like that.

Suzuki: Also, I couldn't sit on a chair, so when filming stopped, I had a blanket laid out on the floor to sit on until my next turn.

Saito: You were like a princess!

Suzuki: The dress looked like it was floating as it spread out on the floor.

Saito: She often called upon us (Saito-san and Hayama-san) and gave requests like, "Please get me some sweets" (laughs).

Iuchi: She simply couldn't move.

Suzuki: (speaking like a princess) "Excuse me, can you fetch me a drink?"

Miyazawa: She's totally a princess now (laughs).

Suzuki: Another challenging thing was that this production has shorter shots so that smaller children watching wouldn't get bored. In scenes where we convey our feelings, they weren't that long and involved a series of cuts, so we had to raise our emotions pretty intensely, which was difficult. If I had to put it another way, I think it really strengthened our responsive skills.

Hayama: That's a good way of putting it.

Suzuki: You get it though, right?

Hayama: Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.

Suzuki: Zawa-kun had a difficult time with that at first too, right?

Miyazawa: I'd usually start from one or two of my previous lines, but if I thought that it'd still be too difficult, I was allowed to start from even earlier.

Hayama: Yeah, you'd do that.

Saito: Everyone's talking about something serious…

Soma: Ryu, do you have anything else since your story about being late didn't work out?

Saito: Yeah. I play a police officer, so it was quite difficult putting on all that equipment. It was pretty heavy, and there's a proper way of putting it on, so I had to make sure to check it every time. I thought this was to be expected by all the people who actually work as police officers.

Soma: Oh, that was a good story you just gave!

-Looking back at each memorable scene-

"From here, we'd like to ask each of you to pick one person at a time and name a performance or scene of theirs that left a lasting impression on you."

Soma: I guess Haruhi should be first, right?

Hayama: I think I was the closest to Haruhi's Taiya, but when I met him as fake Ishiro in episode 37, the performance Haruhi gave was completely different from what I usually did with him, and I thought the detail in how he differentiated his role was amazing.

Suzuki: The expressions Haruhi-kun showed were really great, as his emotional range swings between the line of difficult and exceptionally good. The facial expression he made at the end of episode 24 also conveyed his delicate feelings.

Iuchi: Thank you very much.

Miyazawa: I still love the, "Let's all hurry!" line he says in the final episode.

Suzuki: That was great too!

Miyazawa: All I can say is that it's like you can see the very moment he switches.

Suzuki: It gives off a similar feeling to when your body trembles with excitement, you close your eyes, and then shoot them open, right?

Miyazawa: Right, it's like that kind of switch.

Suzuki: The scene in episode 45 where Taiya loses sight of his own wheel was really impactful. It's like he was performing with his soul.

Miyazawa: I'll never forget the one on one performance I did with him in episode 18. It made me think, "So this is the man called Taiya Hando, huh?" That scene is still fresh in my mind.

Hayama: (to Iuchi-san) Were you nervous?

Iuchi:……I was (laughs).

Saito: There was a scene that I really liked, the musical scene with Itasha was in the Christmas episode, right?

Soma: Yeah.

Saito: At that point, Taiya makes a face that's like, "Eh?," looks around, then sits down without saying a word, and that made me burst out laughing.

Iuchi: That was entirely Director Kato's direction.

Saito: It was hysterical.

Iuchi: This is especially true since Taiya's not the type of person to do something like that.

Saito: I desperately wanted to say, "Don't just sit there in silence!" (laughs).

Soma: It would've been even funnier if he responded to it with something like, "That was cranked up!"

Suzuki: Yeah, like in the Toilet Grumer Limited episode.

Saito: Yeah, that happened.

Iuchi: That's where I tried to play the version of Taiya that Mira had in her mind (laughs).

Hayama: That was alot of fun.

"Next, what do you think of Ishiro Meita's Hayama-san?"

Iuchi: My favorite scene is in episode 14, when he relies on Mira. Ishiro had always operated in his own world, but Taiya also had the desire to draw him into everyone world, so Taiya felt happy when Ishiro was able to rely on Mira, someone he had come to love. I had read the script beforehand, but when I saw the broadcast, I was moved all over again.

Hayama: That was also made possible due to Suzuki-san's help.

Suzuki: No, no, that's not true.

Iuchi: But it was just the two of you!

Suzuki: Of course, when we were filming that scene, I thought, "Yuki-kun really likes acting." In the aquarium scene in this episode, when Chasshiro shows his annual pass, I (Mira) try to take it, but he quickly pulls his hand back. He was the one who suggested we do that with, "How about if we improvise like this?"

Hayama: All while I acted like a brat (laughs).

Suzuki: I felt that I wasn't capable enough when imagining things that weren't written in the script. That's why Yuki-kun's suggestion made me think, "That could happen!"

Miyazawa: Yuki's really serious, huh?

Suzuki: Yeah, I get him.

Miyazawa: Over this past year, he'd be thinking about the character of Ishiro Meita more than anyone else, and whenever he'd talk about his performance, it was always, "Ishiro's this, and Ishiro's that" (laughs).

Iuchi Suzuki Saito Soma: (laughs).

Miyazawa: There were times when Ishiro would fool around, which I thought would've been difficult, but Yuki was able to express it in his own way. My favorite scene was in the final episode, right before he leaves Earth. He happily says, "An Informant in space, I like the sound of that.

Soma: I also thought he looked happy when I watched him.

Miyazawa: He'd been separated from the Boonboomgers for quite some time, so I think he might've felt bad about it. By doing that performance, I could really feel that he had come back as Ishiro.

Hayama: I'm grateful.

Miyazawa: It was "the best of Ishiro."

Hayama: I'm glad to hear you say that.

Soma: Personally, I liked it when Chasshiro got teased by those around him. Like in episode 40, when Itsuki-kun said, "I want to be a cool hero like BoonBlue," Mira and Jou's reaction was to look at Chasshiro and say, "Cool?" (laughs).

Suzuki: I liked it when Mira pinched his cheeks.

Iuchi: Yeah.

Hayama: That was in the final scene of episode 37.

Soma: It was fun to watch scenes where Chasshiro "comes down" from a stressful situation, as I would think, "Ah, so this is how it's being done this time."

Saito: Yuki-kun mentioned earlier that he's not good at action, and looking back at our first action practice, I could sorta sense that he was having a hard time. However, the action with Gong Grumer in episode 29 was really cool. He must've practiced alot, but it was still captivating. After that, in episode 37, he did action scenes for both Ishiro and the fake, and I felt like he had come a long way with all the moves he was able to do.

Hayama: You sound like a parent (laughs).

Saito: I'd like to mention that I've rewatched your boxing action with Gong Grumer about six times.

Hayama: Eh?!

Suzuki: Amazing, you've got a fan.

Hayama: Ryu, thank you~ (laughs).

Saito: No, I was just curious about the moves you were doing.

Hayama: I guess everyone was looking at different parts. This is the first time I've heard all of that.

Iuchi: You're embarrassed, huh?

Hayama: I am. Ryu should be the first one I treat to some gyudon, don't you think? (laughs).

Suzuki: For me, it was probably when he was paired up with Mira in episode 14. It's the scene where Chasshiro's desperately struggling to keep Reizoko Grumer from going to the aquarium. I had never seen Chasshiro with such intense passion before. Mira had already transformed, so the first time I saw him like that was during post recording, but it was Yuki-kun's acting that really got me into the mood during recording.

Hayama: It was all thanks to the Screenwriter (laughs).

Suzuki: You looked happy (laughs).

Miyazawa: He was all smiley.

Suzuki: And, I know I keep saying this, but when Chasshiro talks to Mira face to face like a normal person in that episode……seriously, his visuals were just too good.

Hayama: It was both an Ishiro episode and a visual episode.

Soma: Visual episode he says…..(laughs).

Suzuki: And, I guess he was really fired up since it was one of his main episodes, as during filming, he made constant efforts every morning to get rid of any swelling (laughs).

Hayama: You didn't have to bring up that part! (laughs).

Iuchi Saito Soma Miyazawa: (laughs).

"Now for the next turn, we'd like you to talk about scenes featuring Mira Shifuto's Suzuki-san."

Soma: Speaking of Miu-chan, she was a monster during post recording.

Suzuki: Eh? What?

Saito: He means to say "you're very skilled."

Suzuki: For real? That makes me happy!

Saito: How is it that you're always able to skillfully match up your voice?…..

Suzuki: Yay! (laughs).

Hayama: Another thing is the straightforward way in which she communicates. In episode 14, when she said, "You're so stupid, Chasshiro!," I could really feel Mira's energy just from watching the footage, and I felt that there was alot to learn when it came to making emotional outbursts like that.

Suzuki: That makes me happy.

Hayama: I learned a…alot!

Suzuki: Don't stutter at the best part! (laughs).

Hayama: (laughs).

Soma: Yuki-kun mentioned emotions just now, but I liked Miu-chan's part when we spoke our lines one by one before defeating Madrex in episode 9.

Suzuki: When I say, "That's what it means to take control of your own wheel!," right?

Soma: Yeah. Your eyes sparkled, and your line was filled with emotion, so that moment really grabbed me emotionally.

Suzuki: Everyone's injured makeup looked good too.

Soma: That combined with the atmosphere of the setting sun made it even better. Towards the end of the show, when Mira makes up her mind to get married, Me, Sakito and Jou were on the receiving end of things, but we were also greatly helped by her. It was easier to do our performance since we could understand Mira's feelings.

Suzuki: That makes me feel good (laughs).

Iuchi: My favorite Mira scene, and the one where I also thought Miu-chan helped me out, was in episode 45. They had created a rather dark scene in regards to Bundorio's shutdown, and I went into the scene worrying about how to go back to Taiya's usual self within the 30 minutes we had. However, thanks to Miu-chan's performance, I was able to bring Taiya back to his energetic self.

Suzuki: Heh~ I didn't know you felt that way.

Iuchi: Taiya saying, "Thank you, I'm glad you guys are my friends," followed by Mira's genuine look of relief on her face as she said, "You've finally regained control of your wheel," was very comforting. That put me in a better mood as we faced the final episode, so I really feel thankful for that.

Suzuki: No, no, I wouldn't have been able to cry if I hadn't seen the look on Taiya's face. I feel the same way, you really helped me out.

Soma: Are you reciprocating your love to each other?

Suzuki: That's not it (laughs).

Miyazawa: It's the result of their synergy.

Suzuki: That's it!

Miyazawa: I don't have any specific episodes in mind, but rather, when I think of Miu-chan, her persuasive words come to mind. I especially felt that in Mira's main episodes. I think it's Mira who connects the Boonboomgers together, and I think she had a big influence on the production.

Suzuki: That makes me happy.

Miyazawa: What I also thought was interesting was that when I saw Miu-chan on set, she would adjust the number of steps she took in order to match the camera's position.

Suzuki: Yeah, I did that (laughs). I'd usually be good with three steps, and then I'd just say my lines from around there.

Miyazawa: Seeing that up close, I thought of her as a very hard worker. Mira's good balance was likely the result of Miu-chan's hard work.

Suzuki: Thank you!

Saito: This might overlap with Zawa-nii, but while I think that each person had their own main episodes, Mira would be right there next to us.

Iuchi Hayama Suzuki Soma Miyazawa: Yeah!

Saito: When you pair up with someone like that, the explosive power is incredible. How would you describe it? Like an amino acid??

Soma: Something like an umami seasoning that makes everything taste better?

Saito: Ah, that's it! If you don't add it in, it's somewhat tasteless, but with it, I'd say it adds depth and takes it up a level. That's why I think Mira's presence was of great help to our team.

Hayama: Thank you for being an amino acid.

Saito: Thank you amino acid.

Suzuki: I did my best as an amino acid! (laughs).

"Next should be Jou Akuse's Saito-san. What does everyone think?"

Iuchi: What I'd like to mention with Jou is his injured makeup for the baseball episode. The makeup artist told me that a role like Jou's is one that's really deserving of injured makeup.

Hayama: That's true.

Iuchi: The way he got covered in dirt, was sprawled out on the ground, and yet still stood up was really cool.

Suzuki: You know it!

Iuchi: As for Taiya, he's happy to watch Jou's growth, or to put it in a slightly weird way, he likes seeing Jou get dirty (laughs).

Saito: Hahahaha (laughs).

Suzuki: It's kinda nice when Jou gets dirty.

Hayama: It's great.

Iuchi: It looks great on film, doesn't it?

Hayama: Going along with that, I guess I'd pick his first Change in episode 5. The scene where he crawls while still standing his ground is really memorable, don't you think? Boonboomger consists of a group of people who hold various beliefs, but among them, Jou possesses an honest sense of justice, and I think that was most strongly portrayed in episode 5. Watching him on set, I honestly felt like, "Ah, he's a hero."

Miyazawa: I think that out of all the characters in Boonboomger, the one who was closest to their role was Ryu, and there were countless times where I felt that he really linked up with Jou's honest character.

Iuchi: Yeah

Hayama: There were.

Miyazawa: Especially when he was trying to appeal to something. There was something about it that would just resonate with you. The same goes for the Keytarou episode, the scene with Itsuki-kun in episode 40, and the scene against the police squad in episode 46.

Hayama: Episode 40 was especially good!

Miyazawa: When it comes to tearful episodes, I think that most people would pick the one where Genba leaves, but I'd cry every time there was a Jou episode.

Saito: Eh?!

Miyazawa: No, it was frustrating how Ryu's performance made me cry.

Iuchi Hayama Suzuki Soma: (laughs).

Miyazawa: Still, it really touched my heart. I really think that only Saito Ryu could've played the role of Jou Akuse. He's also really good at action. He moves his body well.

Saito: That makes me happy!

Soma: For me, it's the part in episode 28 where he Boonboom Changes while running into the fight against Neon Grumer.

Saito: Yeah, I was filmed wearing a maskless Boonboom suit.

Soma: That maskless facial expression, and the intense passion conveyed through his lines. I guess you could call it a "feeling of hitting the right mark." Zawa-kun mentioned it too, but his honesty resonates with you as you watch him, which is exactly in line with Jou, but I think is the same for Ryu too.

Suzuki: I talk about it in every interview we do, but my pick is always going to be episode 15. His crying face at the end when he took down Kaseki Grumer was heartbreaking, and there's also the scene where Jou makes up his mind.

Saito: It was when he said, "I'll take him down!"

Suzuki: Yeah. Despite feeling conflicted, he said he'd fulfill his duty as a police officer. That was also bittersweet. It was a scene that was really painful to watch.

Saito: My performative skills were still pretty rough during that episode, so I had alot of trouble with it. I think Director Hayama helped me alot in that episode.

Miyazawa: It's usually Jou who gets caught in the middle of a dilemma, don't you think? I guess expressing that is also quite difficult to do.

Saito: Yeah, it was. Every time I'd wonder at what point the conflict between what he wanted to do, what contribution he'd make as a police officer, and what decisions he'd make as a hero would alternate.

"What are some of the most memorable scenes involving Genba Bureki's Soma-san?"

Miyazawa: What should we do?

Suzuki: There's really nothing to say, right?

Soma: Why~?!

Hayama: I guess there's nothing in particular.

Soma: Well, guess I'll head home early then (laughs).

Iuchi Suzuki Saito Miyazawa: (laughs).

Iuchi: Alright then, I'll start! I also like the scene in episode 27, where Genba leaves Boonboomger, but I've talked about it in many other places, so I'll name another scene. I recently had the chance to rewatch the clip of his first Change in episode 7, and I thought the whole sequence of movements, starting with the line, "I'm gonna accelerate you guys," and then raising the Boonboom Change Axe to then pull out the Boonboom Booster was incredibly cool.

Iuchi Suzuki: It was when he said, "(speaking in unison like Genba) Let's take control of the wheel of being Boonboomgers together!"

Saito: A key point is the part where he bounces his hand alittle.

Soma: You were paying attention, huh?

Iuchi: Furthermore, in Genba's case, he isn't characterized by his quick decisions, but by his slippery movements instead.

Soma: Was that……a compliment?

Iuchi: Huh, you don't get it?

Hayama: You're saying his movements are sexy, right?

Iuchi: Right, right, sexy!

Suzuki: Genba's movements had some sex appeal to them.

Iuchi: I could feel his mature sexiness, which is exactly in line with Genba. I felt that again when I rewatched it.

Miyazawa: For me……yeah, I think it'd be the part where he's sucking on a lollipop in the opening credits.

Soma: Why?!

Miyazawa: Sorry, that just sorta came out.

Soma: That's going way too far (laughs).

Miyazawa: That was just a joke (laughs), Genba and Sakito were involved in many scenes, so I had many opportunities to talk with Satoru, and I found him to be a really passionate guy when it came to his performance. In particular, he kept the alien setting a secret. That was the most surprising thing.

Suzuki: Eh, you knew from the start?

Soma: I knew about his real identity, but details like him being an heir of planet Bureki and the Hashiryan invasion came later.

Suzuki: Eh~. Still, you knew from the beginning that he was an alien.

Soma: Yeah, I knew.

Saito: So that's how it was.

Suzuki: Did everyone know?

Hayama: No, I also didn't know.

Soma: I think I mentioned it to Taiya along the way.

Iuchi: I only overheard alittle bit about it.

Suzuki: Heh~!

Miyazawa: Not only did he keep that a secret, but he also kept a clear plan in mind and made sure to express the way Genba "should be" in each and every scene. What was particularly memorable was the expression on Genba's face at the end of episode 26 when he saw Disrace. I thought that he had really brought out the best of everything he had accumulated up until that point. I'll never forget it.

Hayama: From there, Genba left Boonboomger and suffered for awhile, but in the beginning of the next episode where he had come back, Genba had a really refreshed look on his face (laughs).

Suzuki: I noticed that~!

Hayama: I once again thought that that kind of carefree vibe is unique to Genba Bureki.

Suzuki: It was that scene, where the camera pans from his legs to focus on his facial expression.

Hayama: Right. Also, Satoru-kun's scripts were amazing. I could catch a glimpse of them from the post recording microphone next to me, and they'd be completely red. This of course varies from person to person, as I myself am the type who doesn't write many notes, but even so, I was impressed by his enthusiasm to learn.

Soma: I'm just prone to worrying (laughs).

Hayama: They were so red, that it makes me want to post a photo on SNS so that everyone can see.

Iuchi: You really pay attention to the smallest of details.

Saito: Regarding the scene in episode 33 where Genba returns, the Action Director of "Kamen Rider Gavv," who I had the opportunity to speak with at the studio, highly praised it by saying, "The expressions on Taiya and Genba's faces as they stared at each other were really good."

Soma: Eh, really? Should I move over to Gavv's set now?

Iuchi Hayama Saito Miyazawa: (laughs).

Suzuki: Please stop (laughs).

Saito: I'd like to bring up the scene in episode 15, where Jou and Genba talk. At the end, Genba mutters, "A lonely dinosaur, huh?…," and at the time of filming I thought, "What is this line?" When I look back at this scene now, the kind, lonely, and indescribable expression on Satoru-kun's face really hit me.

Suzuki: For me it'd also have to be episode 33, but it's for the scene between Shirabe-san and Genba. I felt like he poured out everything he had been holding back up to that point.

Soma: That's something I discussed with Director Nakazawa Shojiro.

Suzuki: On another occasion, the Director told me, "I told him that it'd be more like Genba to hold back there," but finding the right balance must've been very difficult, right? Mira is someone who can show her emotions, but he won't be the same Genba if he shows too much, and if he holds back too much, it'll seem like he's lost his humanity. After hearing that story, I rewatched the second half of episode 33, where he comes back to us, and was convinced as I thought, "So that's the reason." Something will make his heart tremble, but he won't shed tears, and I think that's appropriate for Genba.

Iuchi: Come to think of it, Yu-kun mentioned his identity being revealed, but is it okay if I add something quick?

Miyazawa: Go ahead!

Iuchi: At a later date, Satoru-kun told me why he only revealed it to me, that being, "I think Taiya would've already noticed." Just hearing that…no, he really thinks about the details of details.

Suzuki: That's Amazing!

Soma: Not at all.

Iuchi: What's more, at that time, the details hadn't been worked out yet, but when I read the script for episode 27, Chasshiro asks, "Did you know?," to which Taiya replies, "I had a feeling he wasn't an Earthling," so it was just as Satoru-kun had predicted.

Suzuki: I see!

Iuchi: Satoru-kun is amazing, even though it wasn't his role, he thought Taiya already noticed.

Hayama: How do you even think that far ahead?!

Iuchi: Right? It's really amazing.

Soma: It's embarrassing.

"Finally, there's Sakito Homura's Miyazawa-san."

Hayama: After all, he has the longest acting career out of all of us, so I was always inspired by him.

Iuchi: No, seriously. With that being that case, it'll be hard trying to narrow it down to just one thing.

Hayama: My favorite scene was without a doubt the one at the beginning of episode 29. I had created my performance to a certain extent and took it to the set, but then Sakito started doing moves that I would've never expected (laughs).

Suzuki: You were like, "Wait, this isn't what I had in mind!" (laughs).

Hayama: That's how I felt. Still, I thought that if I became intimidated here, I'd lose to Zawa-kun, so I tried a variety of things on my own. I think it was one of the opportunities for me to grow as an actor, and it's a scene that left a very strong impression on me.

Miyazawa: If we were at the Deliverer's garage like normal, you could imagine what you'd be like, but with filming on location, you don't really know until you get there. In my case, I was pretty much doing things in the moment.

Iuchi: When I got involved with Yu-kun, that's where I'd really learn something. If I'm not mistaken, the scene where we're all talking and having fun in the final episode was also changed on set.

Suzuki: Eh, is that true?

Iuchi: I talked it over with Yu-kun, and he asked me something along the lines of if I wanted to be the "first to respond," but with Sakito, I thought words were unnecessary, so I just tapped my fist against his chest and said, "I'm counting on you" ……I said that just before the take, right?

Miyazawa: That's right.

Iuchi: I really liked the look on Sakito's face in that scene, and thanks to that, Taiya felt like, "Now Earth is in good hands," and even though it was done on the spot, Yu-kun responded perfectly in his performance.

Miyazawa: I think I was able to respond because there was something about Haruhi's performance that resonated with me.

Soma: Even without any lines, Sakito was able to convey the message he wanted to say. That was also the case with the sumo episode, and I learned alot from watching it.

Miyazawa: I'm grateful.

Soma: Genba himself isn't a character with many lines, so when he was silent, I would just look at everyone's expressions, but even in those moments, I felt that Zawa-kun had a wide range of performative skills to draw from.

Saito: I was impressed by his interactions with Byundi. He was constantly talking with Suit Actor Takada Masashi-san, as well as BoonViolet's Tsuta-san, but seeing him talk all the time, even when the cameras weren't on, taught me how to approach acting.

Miyazawa: I'm sure this is true for everyone, but this was the first time I interacted with a Suit Character and performed a role together with a Suit Actor. With that being the case, I think we each had our own ideas of, "What I'd do if I were you," and I wanted to present a character that matched that of BoonViolet, and by extension, Sakito Homura.

Suzuki: Sakito has a childlike charm, a presence that makes everyone tremble easily, and a unique sex appeal, and while we were shown various sides of him, there's a sense of unity that made him look like a proper individual. I think that's what Zawa-kun put into consideration when playing the role of Sakito.

Miyazawa: That makes me happy. Let's all go out for yakiniku next time.

Iuchi Hayama Saito Soma: Yay!

Suzuki: We've been waiting for that!

Miyazawa: Ah! Is that what you guys were after?! (laughs).

-The six people who finished Boonboomger-

"I think it's time we conclude, but we'd like to ask each of you one last time for your thoughts on the past year."

Iuchi: It was fun.

Hayama: It was, wasn't it?

Suzuki: Wait, wait, hold on (laughs).

Soma: Isn't that too short?

Suzuki: It is!

Saito: Well, it is true that it was fun…

Miyazawa: No, stop, speak one at a time, let's do this properly.

Hayama: We got along well with each other over the past year, and I of course hope that we can continue to be friends, but when I see the five of them, I feel like I've learned so much as an actor. In that sense, what was great about being a Boonboomger was that I was able to gain some really good experience for my future acting career by working together with these five people. I realize I'm talking seriously now, but I'm truly happy that I got to meet these five actors.

Suzuki: I'm truly happy from the bottom of my heart that I was apart of these six, and I hope that even after 10 or 20 years have passed, our current relationship will continue. They're my best friends.

Hayama: If something ever happens, us five will be there for you.

Suzuki: That's reassuring!

Saito: Miu-chan summed up everything just now. I thought the same thing after finishing filming, but I think it was actually a good thing. I would've hated it if any one of us was missing, and I honestly feel that the hard work we all put in over the past year was well worth it.

Suzuki: It's kinda sad that it's over…

Soma: On the very day of the wrap up, I think I was relaxed, as I thought, "Ah, it's over~," but when we actually wrapped up, I was so overwhelmed with emotion, that it surprised even myself.

Miyazawa: It was more than you were expecting, huh? I'm surprised.

Soma: Over the past year, I really saw alot of what I liked about everyone, and it was also really exciting when Zawa-kun joined us halfway through. I really think that the balance between these six people is outstanding, and I think we became such a great team because of all the wonderful qualities everyone has. Thank you so much!

Suzuki: Encountering you all and the time we spent together was irreplaceable, and it'll stay with me for the rest of my life.

Miyazawa: I arrived along the way, where I ended up joining a team already consisting of five people, but they were five truly charming people. We got along well in the drama and in our daily lives, and there was so much that I learned from them, so I want to be the first to say how grateful I am that we were able to do this together for a year. And, while this may be the end of Boonboomger, I hope that each one of us will take the experience we've gained from this production to the next level, and that one day, when the time comes for "all these members to gather," we'll already be capable of aiming higher and attract the attention of many people. That's why I hope you'll still support us and continue to carefully watch over us.

"And now, we'd like to ask Iuchi-san for some closing remarks."

Iuchi: Is it alright if it's abit long?

Hayama Suzuki Saito Soma Miyazawa: Of course!

Iuchi: Boonboomger was my first drama job, and I played the main role of Red. Super Sentai productions are a team effort, so I didn't want to get too worked up about being known as the star or leader. However, in interviews I was often asked, "What's your enthusiasm as the leader?," and in the beginning, I'd go into the set being 90% anxious and 10% excited. Also, I'm the type of person who values spending time alone, and while I don't know if there were moments where they didn't think well of me, everyone accepted me for who I was and treated me in a really kind and friendly manner, so I have nothing but gratitude for that. Recently, I've had more opportunities to hear people say to me, "You've grown in the past year," and while I think that's only natural due to how I interacted with people on set and how the staff guided me when I didn't know anything, the most important thing was that I received so much from everyone I performed with. That said, I do think I've grown over the past year. We were all talking about it before this interview, but even after it's over, I sincerely hope from the bottom of my heart that we can get together regularly afterwards to talk about casual things and spend time together. Finally, I have a confession…….I came to Tokyo by myself for this job, and these five are the first friends I made! Let's continue to get along well!

Hayama Suzuki Saito Soma Miyazawa: That makes us happy!

32 notes · View notes

whatonearthisgoingon · 5 hours ago

Text

Demon Giyuu AU

I've been obsessing over Demon Giyuu and SaneGiyuu, so have a little rant/fic about the idea.

There is also some past SabiGiyuu mentioned, but it's minor. Word Count: 2,151

Okay, so Giyuu is on a standard mission against a Lowermoon or minorly powerful but not ranked demon, when out of nowhere someone in the Upper 3 comes along as a reinforcement for the first demon.

Giyuu tries his absolute hardest to kill the demons, to the point where he unlocks the mark. In the end, with the combination of the Uppermoon and lower ranked demon, Giyuu eventually looses, but he's not dead yet, barely conscious and struggling to move. The Upper demon he's against, is pretty impressed with the fight Giyuu gave, and gives him blood, Giyuu too weak to fight back against it. The two demons leave, not waiting to see if Giyuu survives.

Giyuu, feeling the changes, calls Kanzaburo to send a message to the Master and the Hashiras, before eventually passing out from exhaustion as the transformation starts.

Eventually the Hashiras find Demon Giyuu where he's relatively calm for a recently turned demon. He found a stream nearby and is calmly sitting in the water. He found out pretty early that he can control the water, so he's making it form into a multitude of pretty shapes. The Hashiras approach with caution, but their guard is soon dropped as Giyuu brightly talks to them, stating how he's happy they found him.

The only Hashiras who aren't convinced are Sanemi and Obanai. So what does Sanemi do? He walks up to Giyuu, and slashes his own arm open, the Marechi blood dripping down. Sanemi: "You're still so human, right? So surely this has no effect on you, huh? Go on, you know you want it!"

Giyuu is trying his hardest to resist, backing away as Sanemi merely gets closer, taunting him with the blood. Giyuu's eyes are transfixed on the wound, and his breath is becoming more labored as he tries to resist the demonic urges. Eventually, he's able to turn away from Sanemi, refusing the blood; that's enough to convince the other Hashiras of Giyuu's trustworthiness, just as it worked for Nezuko.

As the night is still high, they bring Giyuu back to the Water Estate, where the Master is waiting. They have a long discussion over Giyuu's new condition; how he can't be in the sun, the Blood Demon Art, how missions with non-hashiras should be avoided, a supplementary beef and pork diet to hopefully substitute any cravings for human flesh, etc. After the big topics are discussed, the biggest question arises; who will stay with Giyuu, and make sure he doesn't go crazy and hurt anyone for the next few weeks or months, as he has only recently transformed? Who is strong enough to keep him in check? All eyes turn to Sanemi.

Sanemi: "Why is everyone looking at me?" Obanai: "As much as I hate to admit it, that prick is stronger than all of us, minus you and Gyomei. But I think we can all agree that Gyomei won't be the best at watching a demon." Sanemi: "I'm not watching over the demon fuck- I hate him! There's no way that I'll be taking care of him-!"

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Giyuu watches as the door shuts when the last Hashira leaves, leaving him and a fuming Sanemi in a room alone, after the Master commanded Sanemi to stay with Giyuu. It's quiet for a minute, when Giyuu finally speaks.

Giyuu: "Do you have a certain type of tea you like? I can make a pot-" Sanemi: "Shut the fuck up, this is all your fault." Giyuu: " ...... I'll just make myself one then.." He says as he stands up and walks out.

Sanemi eventually joins Giyuu, because he has nothing else to do, and he's stuck with the damn idiot, so why not have some tea while he's at it. The two sit in silence, drinking tea, until Giyuu speaks.

Giyuu: "I don't have much set up in my estate, so we can live together in yours." Sanemi: "Excuse me?" Giyuu: "Well the Master said we had to stay together, so you can watch me- so I presume we'll be staying in the same estate?" Sanemi: Loudly sighs. "Whatever you dumb shit, sure. My estate or whatever. Just don't make a mess, you hear me?" Giyuu: "Of course."

Giyuu goes quiet again, just drinking his tea, but he has a small smile. He doesn't know how to explain it, or why he's feeling it, but he's really happy that he gets to hang out with Sanemi now.

When tea is over, they pack up some of Giyuu's clothes, and they go to Sanemi's Estate before the sun rises. While Giyuu is putting his stuff in the guest bedroom, Sanemi goes around his Estate, making sure all the windows are shut and covered with curtains. There's no way he'd let Giyuu see him doing something nice or caring for him like that, so he rushes to get it all done before Giyuu is done unpacking.

Later Sanemi goes to bed, as does Giyuu, as they had been up all night dealing with demon nonsense. The next night, they go on their first mission together.

As they are now eating meals together, going on missions together, and living together, the two start growing closer together. The animosity and tension is still there, but it has become to change. Rather hating Giyuu's whole dumb face, Sanemi specifically hates that dumb, stupid, disgustingly pretty smile. Giyuu's opinion on Sanemi's anger has shifted from one of irritation to a minor annoyance with a small hint of fondness to it; it's what makes Sanemi, Sanemi.

One night, Giyuu is calmly sitting in his room, reading something, when he hears a yell and a crash from Sanemi's room. He gets up and goes to Sanemi's room, finding him freshly woken from a nightmare.

Rather asking questions, Giyuu just sits down, gently taking the shaking Sanemi's hand. He's quiet, and just sits there, being a comforting presence as Sanemi's racing heart rate slowly lowers. Sanemi squeezes and relaxes his hold on Giyuu's hand many times, Giyuu's presence grounding him.

After a few minutes, Sanemi does something surprising. He hugs Giyuu. Giyuu is shocked at first, but doesn't fight against it, hugging Sanemi. They sit like that for a few minutes, until Sanemi mumbles a quiet "Thank you."

That night, Giyuu lays back down with Sanemi, holding him in that hug, his hands wrapped around Sanemi's waist. The two fall asleep together as the sun rises, and they are still holding each other when they awake in the evening.

They have a meal together, acting like nothing happened, then go on the night's mission. When they return they do their usual routine of a meal, getting ready for bed, etc. But this night, Giyuu follows Sanemi to his room for sleep. Sanemi, although confused at first, doesn't argue, letting Giyuu lay down with him. He would never admit it, but last night was the best he'd slept in years.

This routine continues, neither man willing to bring up the developing intimate relationship between them. It's easier to stay quiet and let it happen. But over the next month, they grow even closer. Hugging and hand holding around the house is becoming common. They pick food off each other's plates. They cook their meals together in the kitchen, or over a fire on missions. They spar together at night when they don't have a mission.

A few times when the two are talking and are close together, there is a want for more, when the two's faces are only a foot or so apart. Sometimes when they hug, the hands trail a little lower than they're supposed to.

Sanemi is pissed at these feelings. Giyuu is a man- and he's not even a human man. He's a demon. A relationship like that would be an abomination on two levels. They'd be executed for this shit, Giyuu much more instantly than Sanemi would. Sure, they could run, but neither of them want that, do they?

Giyuu on the other hand, is less mad that he likes a man, but that that man is Sanemi. Because he knows why its Sanemi specifically. Sanemi... Sabito... The aggressive personality, the purple eyes with so much emotion behind them, the scars formed in battle from strength and courage. He fell for the same person all over again. And just like all of the other people Giyuu loved, Giyuu is scared that something drastic will happen to Sanemi.

The two continue their "friendship," while both holding these feelings inside of them, refusing to speak to each other, too scared of how the other will feel, and how the world will react.

Some of the Hashiras started noticing the shift in the two's relationship. Iguro notices that Sanemi isn't irritated by the mere thought of Giyuu anymore. Shinobu notices that Giyuu's fascination over Sanemi has only increased into a shared friendship; she is very happy for Giyuu. Mitsuri is happy that there is less tension in Hashira meetings now, because they are getting along.

The only Hashira who really notices that the two men long for more, is Tengen. And he's pretty sure he is more accepting of that idea, than the two men infront of him are.

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Ubuyashiki: "I trust Giyuu to be by himself now. He has been a demon for about 5 months now, and has proven that he is safe to be around, and safe to be on missions by himself." Looking at Sanemi and Giyuu "Sanemi does not need to watch over Giyuu constantly anymore." He pauses then smiles. "If the two of you.. wish to separate, Giyuu can return to his own estate."

Ubuyashiki says that with a certain tone, and a soft smile on his face, suggesting that he knows the two will most likely not want to separate. He makes it clear that this is an option, not a requirement. He dismisses the meeting, and Sanemi and Giyuu return to the Wind Estate.

Sanemi: "So? Are you staying or going?" Giyuu: "Well.. I mean, all my belongings are here anyway.." Sanemi: Nods a little "Yeah, they are.. but.. you want to stay here still?" Giyuu: "Do you want me to leave?" He says with a slightly sad tone Sanemi: "No!" Realizes he was way too quick and loud with his answer. "I mean, you make my life easier, help with cooking and cleaning shit.." Giyuu: Smiles a little. "Well, I'll go get started.. I'll make sure there's some ohagi for dessert.." Sanemi: "Yeah whatever, I'm getting a shower.." He walks off, not letting Giyuu see the smile on his face, now knowing that Giyuu wants to stay. After living together, fully on their own choice, for a few weeks, Giyuu decides that it's finally time to talk about what the two of them are. On a night without a mission, Giyuu takes Sanemi outside to the backyard of the Wind Estate, at around 11:50 pm. They're sitting quietly looking at the scenery under a full moon, when Giyuu speaks up.

Giyuu: "Sanemi, what are we?" Sanemi: Confused. "What do you mean?" Giyuu: "Well.. we've been living together for a few months. We go on almost every mission together. We eat meals together. We hug and hold hands. We sleep in the same bed. Is it wrong of me to assume there is something more than friendship between us? We are acting like a couple." Sanemi: He freezes up for a minute, not responding. His first instinct is to tell Giyuu off, 'How dare you think of me as a fag.' 'What on earth are you talking about.' But he doesn't. Instead he thinks about his words, before responding. "What do you think of our relationship? How would you react if a name was put on it?" Giyuu: He's quiet while he considers, then sighs. "I.. I wouldn't mind the title.. But if you do mind the title, then I think we should try to distance ourselves into a normal platonic relationship, because that is not where we are at right now." Sanemi: He considers Giyuu's words, then softly whispers. "I wouldn't mind the title.. saying we're.. together" Giyuu: He finally looks at Sanemi, then takes Sanemi's hand in his own. "Well, can I say 'I love you' then, Sanemi?" Sanemi: Laughs a little as he turns red in the cheeks. "Maybe give it a day, but sure.." He smiles, still avoiding eye contact with Giyuu; if he met his gaze, he would probably explode. Giyuu: "Alright.." He stands up, letting go of Sanemi's hand as he does, then turns to the door. "I'll be in bed. Take as long as you need." Looks inside and sees as the clock strikes as midnight. "And, I love you.." He says as he walks inside. Sanemi: Laughs "You're a fucking dick, Tomioka!" He smiles fondly at Giyuu's antics, before quietly whispering once Giyuu leaves. "I love you too.."

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