#and he looks so much like tatsuma

[tonguetiedraven]

Hey Raven!

I’m going to be writing my first AoEx fic (BonRin) soon, and it’s going an atla world crossover. If you’re in the avatar fandom, can I request a non bender air nomad monk! Ryuuji and a fire nation prince! Rin (still w/ demon features). I love your art so much, but if you’re not in the atla fandom, thats totally ok.

Thanks so much! ❤️

(Also if art ends up being done and I write my fic, I would tag you in ao3 obv)

That sounds like fun! I'll be interested in learning more about the story, and I've actually already drawn a Fire Prince Rin for a different ask, lol.

I've always imagined Ryuuji as an earth bender when I've thought of atla aus because of how grounded, stubborn, tough, and determined both the element and he is. I've had a design for him for a while, so I went ahead and drew that along with an air nomad because it seemed fun. I went with more of the east style of the air nomads for his outfit because I wasn't sure what age or location you were thinking.

[everyryuujisuguro]

[irisintheafterglow]

HAND FOUR - THREE OF A KIND

summary: in a season where you're determined to fly under the radar, newly-returned crown prince!touya todoroki has other ideas. in this hand, the debutantes are met and a dance is done.

wc: 2.4k

cw/tags: royalty!au/regency!au, fem!reader, banter driven (what else is new), pining and tension and tension and pining, jealous!touya hehe, prince keigo and lady kaina cameos :)

note: every time i write another part of this series, i think i cannot create any more tension and then shit like this gets created. every thing i do i'm like that one meme with the butterfly like "is this slow burn?" anyways hope you enjoy, thank you SO MUCH for all the love you've given this series!!!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3

“I can’t fathom being in his presence for more than a few minutes. I don’t know how you do it,” remarks Lady Kaina Tsutsumi, your new-found ally in the palace hall of debutantes and suitors. You were initially drawn to her because of the striking dark purple of her dress and were delighted to find that she shared similar opinions on presentation season. With the prince preoccupied with making painfully awkward small talk with guests, it was up to you to entertain yourself until he returned to your side. 

“It’s been a learning curve, to say the least,” you reply politely, taking another sip from your glass of lemonade. You think you catch a glimpse of the prince’s bright white hair in the crowd, but find yourself unexpectedly disappointed when the rest of him doesn’t follow. 

“Is there a reason for his…intensity all the time?” 

“I’ve found that it is, unfortunately, his resting demeanor,” you inform Lady Kaina and she chuckles. “Surprisingly, I’ve started paying closer attention to the relationships within the ton, no thanks to him.” Your friend hums in amused assent. 

“Shall I share my roster of eligible ladies and their prospects with you, then?”

“If you would, please,” you say gratefully and she nods in understanding. 

“Well, of course, we have your man,” she teases, gesturing a magenta-gloved hand in the general direction of your only suitor. He was currently intimidating some poor souls from the district of Lord Tsunagu Hakamada, the most successful textile entrepreneur in the kingdom. When the prince told you that he was to visit with other high-ranking members of the ton, you had a vague idea of what their interactions would entail. Now, as you witness it first-hand, the victims shrink away from his conniving smile and you roll your eyes, allowing yourself a smile before Lady Kaina clears her throat from beside you. 

“I would not call him my man,” you correct light-heartedly after you remember your manners, but she waves you off with a knowing look. “I’m serious!”

“Yes, and the sky is green,” she counters. “Moving on, we have Lady Rumi Usagiyama.” The woman in question was not difficult to spot among the droves of guests, as her aura alone seemed to be taking up most of the space. In a generously cut off-white dress, she radiated confidence and pride like you’ve never seen before. “Notoriously hard to court in the Takami Kingdom, and rumored to have the strength to chuck any man out of her foyer window.” 

“She is the object of my envy,” you deadpan, glancing back in the direction of the prince. “I only wish I dared to do such a thing to His Highness.”

“Your gaze tells a different tale, my friend,” Lady Kaina murmurs and you shoot her a look of warning. She shrugs indifferently, pointing out two other vaguely familiar faces in the hall, a bubbly, tall debutante and a scary-eyed woman beside her. “Lady Yu Takeyama and Duchess Ryuko Tatsuma. Rumors say that the Duchess ate her husband.” You snort so unexpectedly that your lemonade travels into your nose and you cough, fanning yourself with your hand to cool your warm face. “Anyone else you would like to learn about?”

“Do you know of anyone that the prince surrounds himself with?” You ask once you’ve regained your composure. Lady Kaina shakes her head, the corner of her mouth tugging down into a frown. 

“I’ve heard of three, but I’m not sure it’s my place to reveal their identities.”

“I have no one else to spread this information to,” you remind her. 

“True,” she agrees, dropping her voice to a barely perceptible level. “Whispers say he is acquainted with the bastard of King Shigaraki, the missing daughter of the Toga dynasty, and a traveling circus magician.”

“Your whispers spin a vibrant tale.” You listen to her continue to relay what she’s heard about the prince’s friends, but you try not to let yourself immediately be convinced by them. From the month that you’d reluctantly spent with the prince, you were increasingly perplexed by the cocky-smiled enigma that was your future (fake) intended. 

There were the little things, observed from a surface level: how he holds a sword with his left hand but is right-handed in all other situations, how he’d rather jump off a cliff into sharp rocks than eat a spoonful of fish, how he closes his eyes during carriage rides to avoid getting nauseous. 

But recently, you also started noticing deeper things about the prince that you didn’t know how to manage. He hated his father. He hated the ton. He hated the presentation season. And yet, despite everything that he had no problem expressing his distaste for, he called on you half an hour before your agreed-upon time. He waited in the garden instead of the sitting room because he knew you’d rather see your beloved flowers before you left. He became bored easily, but listened to you go on about traveling the world during visits to the modiste, another place he insisted on accompanying you “for coordinated aesthetic purposes.” He loved to mutter brutal comments about a person’s looks when you passed them on the sidewalk, but he never dared to say anything negative about your appearance. When he was with you, anything negative registering in his mind seemed to disappear before his mouth could articulate it. 

The things you witnessed had unwanted sensations traveling through your heart and fluttering in your stomach, which made it endlessly difficult to remind yourself that he was simply a business partner and, more importantly, likely an enemy of the kingdom that hasn’t been caught yet. But what were you supposed to do when he caught your eye across the room and smirked like you shared a secret? 

“Mmm,” Lady Kaina hums from next to you, pulling you back to the ground after your head starts to float off with the string quartet. “Yeah, you’re gone.”

“I’m standing right here.”

“But your attention is elsewhere, friend,” she concludes, dipping into a curtsy and sending you a wink before disappearing into the milling crowd. “You might want to open your fan. Your eyes are giving you away and he’s coming this way.” As if on cue, the low voice that no longer sent chills up your spine appeared over your shoulder. 

“You’re not causing trouble, are you?”

“Speak for yourself,” you scoff, meeting his eyes with a considerably less amount of fear than weeks prior. The wool of his coat tonight was copper-colored, making the blue of his eyes glow even brighter. They always seemed to shine more when you were looking into them. “You socialize with the same grace as a wolf in a chicken coop.”

“I’m doing a great job, then,” he drawls, positioning himself next to you in a way that, if people were walking by, they would run into his shoulder rather than yours. Another perplexingly thoughtful action that you couldn’t figure out a motive for. “You were speaking with Lady Kaina?”

“I was. She’s a very informed individual.”

“Any information about me?”

“Only the well-known,” you state cryptically. He glances at you with a curiously amused look. 

“Such as?” 

“How you prefer orange zest in your bubble baths and were shorter than a doorknob until you were seven years old,” you jest and the corner of his mouth tugs upward, following your lead as easily as breathing. 

“It’s lemon zest, not orange,” he murmurs and you stifle a laugh into your glove, nodding curtly at passing ladies. “Will you still be accompanying me while I babysit Prince Keigo next week?”

“I’m not sure I have a choice,” you admit, spotting the scarlet-feathered coat of the royal in question. In a way, both princes seemed to be matching each other in color schemes. Telling the prince beside you would most certainly end in a barrage of complaints about his royal duties, so you keep that part to yourself.

“Of course, you have a choice, though I will say it will only wound my pride further.” 

“Then for the sake of my sanity and your pride, consider my attendance guaranteed.” He nods in satisfaction, following your eye line to His Highness Prince Keigo. 

“I’m not going to duel another man, am I?”

“What do you mean?”

“You having eyes for Prince Keigo was not something I anticipated,” he muses and your face heats as you finally take Kaina’s advice, snapping your fan open instead of answering. 

“I don’t have eyes for anyone here, Your Highness,” you scoff, waving the fan back and forth in front of your burning cheeks. “If I were to muster up attraction to any royal, it would be Princess Fuyumi.” 

“You have a taste for the Todoroki family then? I always knew you couldn’t resist me,” he says, leaning close enough so that you can feel his breath on your ear. You freeze momentarily, pulse racing in your ears, but are just as quick to push him away. 

“I made it clear from the start of our arrangement that feelings were not to be factored into this relationship,” you state bluntly and he steps backward; you catch him blink a few times in a way that you’d learned was his way of hiding disappointment. Disappointment with what, you couldn’t understand, and you decide not to think about it further. The prince, however, isn’t satisfied. A satin-gloved hand extends to you and you stare at it with all the caution of taming an agitated cobra.  “What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing? Dance with me,” he commands and you peer at him expectantly. His eyes roll to the side when he understands what you want, but he gives it to you nonetheless. “Please.”

“Do you have a certain connection with this song?” You ask in an attempt to cover up your sweating palms and heated face as he leads you to the middle of the floor. It was the first time he’d proactively asked you to dance, outside of the agreed-upon quota required to keep your ruse believable. “I can’t fathom any other reason to be dancing with you otherwise.” He’s still quiet, but his hands seem to be acting on their own tonight. One slides assuredly around your waist while the other interlocks its fingers in yours, ushering you closer than you’d ever danced with him before. “Are you about to end this whole arrangement? I’d prefer to know in advance if I am to be broken up with at the end of this evening–”

“With all due respect, dear,” he murmurs right next to your ear, “Please stop talking.” As the sound of strings dances around you, your body moves in time with his and you’re forced to look to the side, sensing his stupid mouth brush your forehead. “Loosen up a bit. You’re stiffer than a board.” 

“Forgive me,” you whisper back, barely able to keep your voice steady. “I–I’m–My mind is not currently present,” you swallow nervously and are relieved when he chuckles too, his chest humming against yours. You risk meeting his eyes only to find his gaze elsewhere, and you trace it to the scarlet-coated Prince Keigo charming debutantes across the room. His eyes are dark and threatening, an expression you only witness when he’s trying to guard a good hand of cards. The pieces click together in your mind one by one and you can’t help laughing when you realize what he’s doing. “I must say, jealousy is not a good look on you.” 

“I’m not jealous,” he mumbles like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, still avoiding your eyes. “You’re seeing things.”

“Is envy a better word, then? Resentment? Covetousness?” That catches his attention and you’re surprisingly unafraid of being the sole recipient of his intensity. 

“Call it being…defensive,” he manages after considerable amounts of thought, but you swear you catch the tips of his ears turning slightly pinker. “I’m merely establishing that I am your only suitor, even with a shiny new thing visiting.” Like a game, you press on, determined to see how far you can get before his bluff breaks. 

“Is that really for you to decide, though?” He tenses and you do not doubt that your eyes are shining in challenge. “What would happen if, for instance, I wanted to consider my prospects with His Highness Prince Keigo? Should he be interested, of course.” The muscle in the prince’s jaw clenches and his hand around your waist tugs you impossibly closer until you’re inches from his face. 

“He’d be either blind or foolish to not be interested,” he assures you and you’re back in another stare-off, feet moving unconsciously to the rhythm of the music while each of you waits for the other to back down. “Which is exactly why I’m making sure he sees you dance with me before anyone else.” You end up being the first to break, tearing your eyes away just in time to see Prince Keigo considering you and His Highness from across the ballroom. Your partner’s plan, it seems, has worked. As the song ends, he guides you off the floor with a strong arm under your fingers; you try not to think about the lean muscle flexed under your touch. 

“This ruse became more political than I anticipated,” you manage to force out after the adrenaline of your dance begins to subside. “I didn’t know I’d be defended like some damsel princess.”

“I consider it more flaunting than defending,” he corrects. “I do, after all, have the diamond of this season, though that may be influenced by bias.”

“All these sweet words for what end goal, my prince?” He swallows thickly, the only indication that your new nickname for him is heard. “For you to leave me at the altar with a sum of money and a broken heart?”

“It was what we agreed upon, was it not?” His burning eyes were sending you a completely different message but you can’t find the courage to acknowledge it. You felt like you’d just seen the river and were pushing all the stacks you had into the pot, only for him to raise again and again. Again and again and again, you didn’t know how much more you could risk. 

You fold. 

“Of course. An arrangement is an arrangement, after all.” You curtsy and turn away on shaky legs before you can see his reaction. “Goodnight… Touya.”

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[frickingnerd]

the curse of the dragon princess

pairing: ryuko tatsuma / ryukyu x gn!reader

summary: after being sent to slay a dragon, you learn that said dragon is a cursed princess in need of your aid

tags: fantasy au, dragon!ryukyu x hero!reader, injured!ryukyu (due to reader), angst & regret, missunderstandings (+resolution)

you were promised wealth beyond your comprehension, if you'd manage to defeat the dragon looming in a cave outside of town. but nobody had warned you that said dragon was a beautiful woman with a curse on her.

“w-what have i done…?”

you dropped the sword that has just pierced through the dragon's flesh. it was a grueling battle, but you had won. but now, that victory meant nothing to you, as the fearsome dragon turned into a wounded woman in front of your very eyes.

“n-no, i– how could i…?”

you were frozen in place. your widened eyes were fixated on her. she looked beautiful, blonde hair falling onto her shoulders. and as she opened her eyes, they were a piercing yellow. a color you had never seen reflected in someone's eyes before.

as she slowly opened her eyes, you fell to your knees beside her. carefully, you lifted up her head, your hands trembling.

“you… who sent you?”

there was no malice in the woman's voice.

“the king. he set a high reward for you. but if i knew that you weren't a monster, i would've never–”

slowly and quietly, she lifted her hand and you fell into silence.

“my stepfather… huh.”

her words meant nothing to you. you understood what she was saying, but you couldn't understand what she meant.

“who are you…?”

“if i tell you, can you keep a secret?”

you nodded silently. the girl sat up slowly, her wounds slowly closing with each passing moment. it was too fast. it wasn't normal. but you had seen stranger things today, like that dragon turning into a beautiful woman.

“the king you spoke of… he's my stepfather. after he married into the family, i was soon cursed and banished from the kingdom. that dragon form you saw before, that's thanks to him.”

slowly, things began to make sense. but it was all still hard to grasp. if the king was that girl's stepfather, then she must be the…

“princess?”

“it's been years since i've been called that”

so it was true. the princess that had vanished years ago was the woman laying in your arms right now. the same woman with a dragon's curse on her. and all of that thanks to the royal family…

“i need you to do me a favor”

the girl's voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“you could call it repentance for trying to kill me…”

“of course, anything you need–!”

you felt horrible for hurting her. even more now that you knew more about who she truly was and what she had been through.

“if i return to the kingdom, i'll need someone to look after me. i can handle myself well, but someone who has my back would be appreciated”

“why would you want to return to the kingdom?”

her own family cursed her. she was banished and treated like a monster. no, she was turned into a monster. what good reason did she have for returning there? did she plan to make up with her family? or was it something more sinister, like…

“revenge.”

you didn't dare say a word. the mood became tense and it seemed like she had noticed it too.

“you're free to turn me down. but i can't let the king's sins remain unpunished…”

slowly, the woman rose to her feet. she seemed to do much better than a few minutes ago. as you remained frozen on your knees, she reached her hand out to you.

“are you with me?”

[beestriker015]

Yandere Ryukyu x younger male pro hero s/o

Despite being only 21 years old, s/o has already caught the attention of a few of his fellow pro heroes, one of which being the number 10 hero herself.

Ryuku first saw s/o on television when he made his debut and was quite impressed with his abilities as well as his relatively shy and kind demeanor.

However, Ryukyu also felt something peculiar when she saw s/o on the screen, something that worked up her dragon side.

“W-what is this I’m feeling? My heart is beating so fast. This new hero…why do I feel so drawn to him?”

As time passed, Ryukyu became obsessed with s/o and kept a close tab on him until one day when she couldn’t take it anymore and finally decided to meet the object of her obsession in person.

“Hello s/o, my name is Ryuko Tatsuma, but I prefer to go by my hero name Ryukyu. I’ve heard much about you, and it’s a pleasure for us to finally meet.”

“Likewise. It’s a huge honor to meet an amazing hero like you!”

S/o says with a smile that almost causes Ryukyu to lose her calm composure.

“T-thank you s/o, that’s very kind of you to say. Since you’re still relatively new to being a pro hero, may I offer you some help and advice on things you need to know?”

“Really? I’d greatly appreciate that Ryukyu! Thank you so much!”

“No problem, we can talk more over lunch at a cafe nearby. Don’t worry about paying though, it’s my treat.”

Since that day, s/o and Ryukyu have grown close to each other, leading to s/o developing romantic feelings for the 26 year old dragon hero.

When s/o eventually confesses his feelings for her, Ryukyu smiled widely and happily told him she felt the same way before pulling him close and roughly kisses him on the neck, leaving behind a very noticeable red mark.

“There. I apologize if I was too rough darling, but I had to mark you. Now everyone will know that you are mine, and no one will take you from me.”

She says with a smile and a glint in her eyes that makes s/o slightly unnerved for a brief moment.

Despite being a yandere, Ryukyu is still a genuinely good person and would never hurt anyone without a reason to.

As a girlfriend, Ryukyu is extremely affectionate with s/o when they’re alone, but won’t do much more than brief kisses and holding hands when in public or during hero work due to her professionalism.

Ryukyu is extremely possessive over s/o because of her dragon side, and will glare at anyone who flirts with her boyfriend as she holds onto him protectively while letting out a low growl, which s/o admittedly finds kind of adorable.

S/o and Ryukyu try to spend as much time together as they can despite their busy schedules as pro heroes.

Almost everyday, s/o takes time out of his day to visit Ryukyu’s agency to drop off a bagged lunch he made for her and to give her a quick kiss before she goes out on patrol, which Nejire and Ryukyu’s first year interns find really really sweet.

Speaking of Nejire, she is a huge supporter of Ryukyu and s/o’s relationship and to quote her when she met s/o for the first time “totally ships them”, which caused s/o to blush a little and chuckle as Ryukyu looked at the two in confusion due to having no idea what shipping is.

Knowing how insecure his girlfriend can be, s/o will passive aggressively defend Ryukyu if anyone were to say anything negative about her quirk or appearance.

“My Ryukyu is the most beautiful woman in the world, and her quirk has saved so many lives! You clearly don’t know what you’re talking about. So either apologize to her now, or keep your ignorant comments to yourself!”

Hearing him defend her only makes Ryukyu fall in love with s/o even more.

When they get back to their shared apartment (because Ryukyu insisted on s/o moving in with her shortly after getting together), Ryukyu hugs her boyfriend and gives him a thankful smile.

“Thank you darling, I appreciate you coming to my defense, please know that I love you dearly.”

Despite her protective and possessive tendencies, Ryukyu would never kill anyone, as that goes against her beliefs and status as a hero.

That used to be the case, until one day during an intense operation to take down a large villain group, s/o was brought to the brink of death by the leader of the villains.

“You and the other heroes were fools to come onto our turf and interfere with my plans boy! I’m going to enjoy killing you in the most excruciating way possible. It’s game over for you hero!”

Upon seeing her s/o at the mercy of the villain leader, Ryukyu’s eyes glaze over in pure draconic rage as she transforms into her dragon form and rushes at the villain as she begins mercilessly tearing him apart, much to the shock and horror of any onlookers.

With the villain leader dead, his subordinates are quickly apprehended by the other heroes and sent to Tartarus, with s/o taken to a nearby hospital for his injuries.

No one dared speak to s/o of what happened to the villain leader when he came to after falling unconscious during his transport to the hospital, both out of fear of angering Ryukyu and a little understanding of the lengths dragons will go to protect their mates.

When he wakes up, s/o is warmly embraced by his teary eyed girlfriend, unaware of the grisly murder she committed.

“I missed you so much darling! Are you in pain at all?”

“I’m ok now Ryuko, just a little sore. Hey babe, what happened during the mission? I don’t remember anything after almost getting killed by the leader.”

“…that villainous scum has been taken care of.”

“What do you mean ‘taken care of’?”

“D-don’t worry about that darling, he and the other criminals working for him were all taken to Tartarus and imprisoned.”

She lied to him as she continues to hug her boyfriend with a dark smirk on her face.

“He will never hurt you again darling, as he is now burning in hell where he belongs for hurting you. I promise that I’ll protect you no matter what, and whoever dares lay a finger on you won’t live long enough to regret it!”

Ryukyu thinks to herself before breaking from their embrace and kisses s/o on the lips with a loving smile on her face.

“I love you so much s/o.”

“I love you too, my beautiful dragon.”

He says while returning her smile as they proceed to share another kiss.

Meanwhile in the criminal underworld, word spreads around about the villain leader’s gruesome death thanks to one of his henchmen managing to escape from the heroes, leading to many growing an intense fear of the tenth ranked hero.

And if any of them intend on doing anything to Ryukyu’s darling…

They should be afraid…

[lilac-5ky]

Dating Joui-era Takasugi Headcanons

A/N: It’s that time of the year when people want to feel a bit cozy and they write Christmas headcanons and all that jazz. BUT Joui-era Shinsuke is what makes me feel all cozy, and so, instead of Christmas headcanons I’ll opt for this :3 (unless y’all want me to actually write a christmas special with him LMAO sounds wacky af)

Warning: It's late. Idk what I've written. Random delirious thoughts I'm afraid. and also it gets a bit SMUTTY with the details

Let’s start with the period of “crushing” and namely “crushing” from his side. Chances are Takasugi had his eyes on you long before he decided to make a move. Something about being on war, something about being a tsundere, something about knowing that if he shows interest then Gin will DEFINITELY force his way in to get on his nerves; all those reasons were enough to make him reluctant.

He thought that crushes were like the common flu. Terrible at first, but it will go away if you ignore it. Eventually. Some day. Oh well.

Months have gone by and you are still living rent-free in his mind. Even when they are stationed far away, he can’t stop thinking about you and hopes he gets to outlive one more battle, just to see your face again.

He is always on the lookout for news about you. Whenever someone mentions your name, or anything that remotely resembles the first syllable of it, his ears perk up. He wants to know you are safe and doing well, but more importantly, he wants to hear that you are still not involved with anyone and won't be until the day he makes it back. Because, secretly, he hopes that when that day comes, he'll get to make you his.

Once, you sent him a letter. Nothing memorable or grandiose. Just you congratulating him on a victory, wishing a safe return and telling him you'll be waiting to see him soon. He never told you, but he treasured that letter, so much that he carried it inside his vest everywhere he went. The content itself wasn't as important, but the fact that you were thinking about him was all the motivation he needed.

At some point, he might start to write back. He’ll talk about the places they see, the fights they win, the petty arguments between Gintoki and him, how Tatsuma tried to buy out an entire red light district and how Zura rejected the advances of a general’s wife for a widow.

He mostly tries to keep his letters lighthearted, presenting you with the pretty side of things. He keeps the real ugliness of war to himself, and doesn’t really vent about his struggles. All he wants is to be close to you, but not too close as to be vulnerable. Not yet, at least.

I’d imagine him indirectly suggesting that some day you revisit certain places together. It’s more of a promise to himself, than an actual suggestion, hoping that one day he can actually deliver on that.

One would expect that when he finally comes back, he’d start interacting more with you and open up. WRONG. He reverts to his quiet and stoic self, acting as if you are no more than an acquaintance. It’s not that he isn’t interested. He simply prefers to let his eyes do the talking, when in company of the others.

If you catch him looking, he doesn’t immediately look away. He loves watching you and he loves how every time your eyes cross, you seem more flustered than before. The sight alone is enough to make him smile, that soft and nearly innocent smile he reserves for you exclusively.

I actually have this scenario in my head that involves camping around the fire with Joui 4. There’s laughing, there’s drinking and there’s talking, and during the entirety of it, you keep gawking at one another (lowkey eye-fucking one another OOPS) until everyone else falls asleep. When that happens, you sit side by side, Shinsuke adding more wood to the fire while you snuggle up to him, resting your head against his shoulder. A very warm, quiet and intimate moment you share together.

At this point, everyone knows something’s going on between you two, and naturally, they start to mess around by calling you “chibi’s girlfriend”. By “they” I most definitely mean Gintoki, though Zura and Tatsuma make sure to contribute with a chuckle. Shinsuke HATES this kind of jokes and is quick to dispute their claims, which in return leads to them suggesting they should get it on with you instead, considering how you’re single and all.

Gintoki because “How could a shrimp ever please you with his tiny shrimp dick”, Tatsuma because “bRoS beFOrE hOEs” and Katsura because… actually Katsura is the one who’s least likely to say that. Unless you are a widow. (auto correct made it window at first and I died at the idea of being window-sexual)

The jokes soon lose their momentum, and become sort of this daily routine he chooses to ignore. That is when it’s just the four of them. However, if Gintoki dares bring them up in your presence, then Shinsuke loses all self restraint and attempt to murder him by repeatedly stomping on his head, saying something along the lines of “You don’t need to carry an empty shell on your shoulders if you’re never gonna use it”

The only consolation is that you found his reaction so entertaining that you burst into laughter. Not at Gintoki’s attempted murder, but at Shinsuke’s adorable grumpy expressions.

When it’s just the two of you, Shinsuke feels much more at ease. He’ll probably offer to accompany you to places or join in on a task, considering how rare it is to spend some quality time together. Long walks through the woods, hitting up convenience stores miles away from the camp and Gintoki , “accidentally” hitting up all sorts of romantic hidden spots is definitely his thing.

He wants to thoroughly get to know you, and there’s no better way than sharing conversations without any disruptions. You can really talk to him about everything and he’ll listen without complaints, though expect him to tease you at any given time. It’s his way of flirting, and even if he calls you stupid, it’s just a term of endearment to him. When he is alone with you, he gets to forget all about warfare and tactics, becoming just a regular boy courting the girl he likes.

Honestly, even after all that, don’t expect a confession from him. He’ll either force you to say it yourself, or muster up the courage to straight up kiss you when the moment feels right. Going with the first one, he’ll insist to show you his most charming self until you can no longer exist around him without acting like a complete mess. That is when you blurt to him that you can’t wait for this war to be over, which has him all smirking and asking you what for. He really wants to hear you say it.

However, supposing that things don’t really go his way then he’ll be forced to make a move. He’d find an excuse to get you far away from everyone else, and when it’s clear, he’ll lean forward and press his lips against yours. He is not very experienced with romance. Correction: He is not experienced with romance AT ALL. For him to kiss you, it means that he likes you so much that his impulse takes over and he can’t help it anymore.

The kiss itself is forced, but oddly hesitant. It’s as if his eyes seek confirmation in yours, and when your lips answer him back instead, then you know it’s game over. In the blink of an eye, he has you pressed against his body, gloved fingers studying over the details of your face, hoping to somehow imprint the softness of your skin upon his pads. He is firm and intense, but gentle in a way that has you completely melting into his touch. That’s when both of you inaudibly decided that you won’t wait for war to decide your outcome.

Dates with him aren’t exactly dates in the traditional sense. Between relocating, battling and keeping your relationship a secret, he doesn’t have much time to take you out on fancy dates, but you knew that before mixing it up with him. Things will remain unchanged; secret meetups in the dead of night, strolling around stranded beaches and nearby woods, or, if he’s daring enough, his tent. What does change is the quality of said dates. (wink wink)

Like I said, he spends a lot of time away from you. Even when they go to Yoshiwara, he isn’t touching any woman because he can’t think of another woman the way he thinks about you. He wants you and you want him, and it doesn’t take long for things to boil over.

But let’s get more specific. If you find yourselves in the forest by the camp, then he most certainly has you back against a tree, knees around his waist, slowly thrusting into you with a hand over your mouth to muffle all sounds. It’s risky and anyone could spot you, but that’s what makes it even more fun. Sometimes he can’t help but groan against your ear, letting you know just how good you make him feel, right before replacing his hand gets with his lips. Deep kisses turn sloppy in between lovely grins and quiet chuckles, till you both climax as one.

When it’s not for a quickie, and especially for the first time, he’ll make an effort by either bringing you into his tent or taking you to the sea. It’s not so much about the place itself, but about how he’d much rather have you spend the night lying in his arms. It doesn’t matter how bleak and grim reality is. On those nights when the world quiets down, he really feels as if he has a chance of winning. As if by next dawn, the war will come to an end and he won’t ever need to say goodbye to you again.

Lastly, speaking about goodbyes. It becomes a habit between you to make stupid pinky promises about things. It can be something as silly as “I pinky swear to bring you a croquette sandwich tomorrow”, or something as profound as “I pinky swear I’ll come back alive”. He doesn’t want to make promises he can’t honor, but at the same time these promises bring comfort to you both. No matter how silly, a promise is about the future and as long as there is something that binds you to a shared future, then you have nothing to fear.

A/N: Sigh, you can’t tell me that Shinsuke in love isn’t a huge romantic. He might be a bit too cynic and sharp tongued at times, but that doesn’t prevent him from being an actual sweetheart. Plus, back then was when he was happiest. He’d be free to joke around and share a laugh without much guilt, and he’d be far more susceptible to falling in love T-T

[tatsuma-forever]

i hate the whole ‘ryo from devilman CRYBABY is a good queer character’ deal

manga ryo. manga ryo is so much better. i’d take tatsuma over crybaby ryo tbh. at least he knows what a good haircut looks like

[teatitty]

Hello!!

Saw your post about Sakamoto's sibs,i really would like to know more and hear about them more if you don't mind

Ah my beloved Sakamoto siblings! Sure I don't mind exanding on them a little bit!

Asaka, the oldest daughter: Her mother was of noble samurai lineage, and had an arranged marriage to her father. The marriage itself was loveless and cold, but had no real problems between them. Asaka was raised to be a samurai and had high expectations placed on her from birth to live up to both her families' legacies. She is as severe and stern as her mother before her and keeps herself distant from anyone who would be a distraction. She's in love with a childhood friend - another woman - but doesn't think herself capable of being a good lover, and is thus keeping her feelings to herself

Looks wise, she has thick brown hair like her father and Tatsuma, but keeps it in a long warrior's ponytail. She's tall, broad, and built thick, proudly displaying her family's blue haori on her shoulders. She claims not to care for her younger siblings but when Tatsuma was being bullied as a child she swiftly dragged him off to teach him how to fight with a sword.

Eiko, second oldest: Eiko and Asaka are 20 years older than Tatsuma, but are only three years apart themselves. Eiko's mother was a low-born servant who had her out of wedlock and tracked down their father when Eiko was four to give her over to him. It's unclear if she was lying about Eiko's parentage in a bid to give her a better life or not, but her father saw something stubborn in her and allowed it to pass without issue. She is the most "traditional" of her siblings, and dresses well the part, her hair dark and silky and her eyes even darker

While Eiko looked up to her father, she had little contact with her mother, since she worked as a servant, and spent most of her life learning the trade of business, expanding the Tosa Family's roots and buying up as many places as possible within their domain. She has no need for love, but enjoys being a mother, despite how quiet and reserved she is. She dislikes most of her siblings, but gets along with Noriko because they both have the same business-driven mind and a perfect lack of morals

Kohei, the first son: His mother was a politician, and his birth a huge scandal, as he was undeniably a bastard born of a torrid affair. His mother's love for his father was entirely one-sided, and Kohei himself is a lazy sort with his head often in the clouds. He has no desire to do physical labour and is terrible with ships. But as the first son of the Sakamoto's, it was his duty to inherit the navy, though he ended up foisting those responsibilities onto Tatsuma instead, so he could spend his days doing accounting work

Of all the siblings, he looks the most like Tatsuma, just with longer hair, looser clothes and a more serene persona. They're often mistaken for one another despite being 10 years apart, which is how Tatsuma ended up in the war instead of his brother. He has a heavy hostile relationship with Eiko and Asaka, but gets along well with his brother and is neutral towards Noriko

Finally, Noriko, the third sister: While they use neutral pronouns, Noriko still refers to themself as a daughter and a sister, and they are 2 years younger than Kohei. Their mother was a housewife, the second marriage of their father's after Asaka's mother passed on, but the marriage was a bad one. Noriko is wild and reckless and rowdy, with a penchant for violence, but gets away with their misdeeds because they bring in so much money and have a vast array of connections

They work as a blacksmith that sells weapons to any and all willing to buy them, and viewed the War as a great boon for their business, selling weapons to both sides with no regard to the consequences. They cannot understand Tatsuma's hangups about their lack of morals, nor do they see why he's so intent on becoming a merchant instead of a fighter. Noriko, like her other siblings, has their father's brown hair but their mother's freckles and sharp green eyes. Their laugh is a barking thing, and their skin smeared with the ash and labour of their work

While the Sakamoto father has no real love or affection for his children, it's obvious to everyone that he favours Eiko and almost entirely disregards Tatsuma himself. Despite this, many believe that Ryouka, Tatsuma's mother, was the only woman he ever truly loved, though he himself stays completely silent on the matter

[onmywaytofanfic]

NEW BEGINNINGS - CHAPTER 1

So... As I said in a previous post, I am working on a re-do of Reina's backstory. However, in teh process and thanks to a friend (@yamanaka-shin you keep putting ideas in my head D: ) an idea pop up, MutaxReina. I have not been able to change it and it hunts me...and it has turn into a very interesting AU and version of Reina that I want to investigate and check more. There is also someone else's OC is involve @kankuroplease ' s Katsura. I have talked so Katsura would be mentioned at some point....here you can see a little glimpse. But.... Welll.... REINA x MUTA is a reality !! BEWARE: That this is going to be hurtful. It is going to be a lot of angst, but it feels like healing too.

WARMINGS: Self-harm mentions (Not descriptions just innuendo)

WORDS: 1370

“Until this day… I wonder why I thought that they would come, why my head, my heart hoped that once I was out of there, I would see their smiling faces. I will finally feel what a mother’s hug feels like, what a father’s kind words are and how a brother’s shoulder feels like. I still wonder, what part of me led me to think that. I wonder what made me think that I had a choice. I kept safe the letter that informed all of us that Root was disbanded of their usage. It is something silly and stupid to keep. A letter that confirms that I was no longer part of Root, still…I don’t know why I hold onto it so much. Anyway, I kept it. I remember that I have pictured that moment plenty of times when the letter was in my hands. When I was…given… sold…I think trade feels more accurate. When they trade me for Tatsuma I… he…I’m sure that you will laugh about it but I felt happy. I thought that maybe, now that I did what I was supposed to do, maybe now…my mother would hug me. She just grabbed him like it looked so good. She was crying, she buried her face in his shoulder, and dad was smiling. It was the first time that I ever saw him smiling so much. I made them happy. I made them like that I…” She could not hold her tears any longer, a small whimper and a cry. The doctor gave her some tissues.

“It was me who they should be hugging…I make it possible for them to be together. It was I” She kept weeping. Ashamed buried her face in her hands, letting her mane flow wild “I did it, I was good. I did everything…I…” The doctor stopped writing for a second and touched her shoulder “You need to let things go now Reina. You are the one that needs to hug that child, not them, they never deserved you '' Gen had been of great help for her recovery. He was the doctor of the centre, well one of them. A Yamanaka as a therapist always sounds good. He was the best at his job, it took Reina some time…more than two months to start at least answering back “How are you, today?” Every other day they got that long hour of a session. Technically, if you do not undergo them, you can’t have visits coming over. However, he always asked her if she wanted a visit. She never answered back. 

“And then…” she cleansed her nose “Seeing Shino there just hugging his brother. Seeing Torune with his family and Shino with her…” She wiped out some tears “It’s just…” Gen nodded and wrote something on his notepad “trigger”. She laid down and kept hiding her face from him, she had recently started to talk that much in therapy, she even started to have some quick chats with some other interns and nurses. However, she kept that awful thing, she bit her lips and fingers, she knocked her head and sometimes hit her head with her wrist out of anger. Gen let all the things down and looked at the clock, it was time, it was over for today. “You are doing great, Reina. I thought that you will never talk ever again” Four months already locked out there. “I…I want to go out” confessed. The doctor stood up “That needs a little more time you know that” She nodded and rose leaving the room “Would you like to see someone this weekend?” she froze at the opened door. She was thinking for the first time about Gen’s proposal, her answers had always been direct and straightforward. She turned around with her ankles and look down, ashamed, scared…blushing.

“Could you ask…Aburame Muta if she wants to come?” 

“I will” 

She gave a gentle nod and disappeared. She rarely interacted with other patients; however, she did not deny the gentle nod of greeting nor answer when she was asked for something. She almost seemed like she started to trust people back. There were moments in which she could not hold it and just locked herself in her room, denied caring or even caring for herself. She stood in her bedroom now with the door closed and the window faintly open. It did not have much space, aside from the small bedroom, a tiny drawer where most of her belongings were and a small hand size mirror. The bathroom only had the WC, and you could wash your hands on top of it, the faucet was extensible, so it also served as a shower in less than 2 meters. Everything was packed uncomfortably, technically to encourage patients to socialize. It had the opposite effect on her, she was comfortable there, in a small space, not bothering anyone, not being a burden. She liked to be isolated, but lately she had found some stuff missing from outside.

The book shop, the bakery, the smell of freshly cooked cookies by Muta, the touch of the grass in her feet, the sound of street music, seeing the insects and the animals roam free in the compounds… She thought she hated everything, and now she was discovering everything that she was missing. Even clothes! She usually wore her uniform, even when she shouldn't, never allowing herself to dress up with anything that was not practical or functional. Now, she had found skirts and dresses and she was eager to try one of those on, to wear one. She wanted a summer dress, one of those that she had seen in the magazines that were in the common room. The people wearing them looked so happy, cheerful, full of life, she thought that it was something that those dresses gave to them. She knew the one that she wanted, a white one, with a small pattern of butterflies on it, a little bit above her knee maybe, and those lovely sleeves that only covered the shoulder. Maybe even some cleavage showing? Yes, maybe. She wanted one of those, and the sandals that had a little heel, they looked so fresh, so stunning. Whenever she saw someone wearing those in a magazine, they were beaming. Definitely, it was the dress that made that. 

She had started to send letters outside… to Muta. They were not that frequent, but when she found the courage to write to him, she spent hours writing and writing. She always asked if it was okay for her to write to him, and he replied that it did not matter, in fact he was glad to receive them. She also asked if it was okay to ask him to come, he always said that he would come. However, not until today, had she given him the possibility to come. She felt selfish, as if she somehow was trapping the guy, not letting him go but… Now she felt ready to know him. After all, who would have liked to be sold as a bride? Yet, she felt that it was unfair…she felt now, that it was unfair for her side to blame everything exclusively on him. Some people told her that it wasn't, some people told them that it was. He accepted the marriage proposal, as he had told her, to help her escape. He said it on the wedding night, “I don’t want anything from you but for you to be happy. Just, forget that we are married if that makes you feel good. I just wanted you out of there” But weren’t there any better options to do so? Maybe just asking her if she wanted to be married, although she already knew that she would deny it. That if his father and uncle did not accept and requested that arranged marriage, she would still be there…with her father and brother. Maybe, she thought, luckily, she felt a twist in her stomach, maybe dead too. 

She laid on the bed, her insects buzzing and dancing around her. She had stopped to do many hurtful things, her hive started to answer back. Her hive, fighting her back. Not all hope was lost within her.

Some drawigns of these two... they are nto that good but here you got some.

SPOILER: She is just unconscious, she is good.

[yukiokumura]

After fuming for a while, Yukio actually got a couple hours of sleep. Well, it felt like a couple hours. In reality, the rocking of the ship, the hard wood of the storage room floor, and the chilly night made it hard to sleep at all. Yukio gritted his teeth and hugged Sinbad close. The dog was more than happy to snuggle and Yukio was so angry at his situation that he didn't mind when the large mutt drooled on his shoulder.

But then he got angry at himself. Who was he now to sit in a dark corner and fume? If he couldn't sleep, he would do as he always did and be productive. Make himself useful. So Yukio released Sinbad and began looking around the storage room. In between a couple boxes on the shelves, Yukio found a paring knife. The blade was small but sharp. It wouldn't be useful for much, but it was better than nothing. So he made sure the blade guard was firmly attached before pocketing it and walking to the door. He grabbed the handle and pushed it, but of course the door didn't budge.

That bastard had locked him in the storage room and he was stupid to think that anyone would have unlocked it for him.

Yukio growled and looked through the seams of the doorframe. Through the very dim light of the outside lanterns, he could see the shadow of the wooden beam that had been slung across the door. Yukio pulled out the paring knife again.

It took a while with such a small knife, but after probably twenty minutes, maybe more, Yukio managed to lift the wooden bar enough to force the door open with a slam of his shoulder. He heard the beam splinter but it gave way enough for him to push his arm through and shove the wood up the rest of the way. Yukio opened the door wide with a huff and gave the broken lock a satisfied look.

He climbed the few steps up to the deck with Sinbad on his heels and ducked almost immediately once he'd stepped outside.

"Watch it," Reiji muttered as he passed by carrying a box on his shoulder.

"Oh great, the Prince got out," Izumo grumbled as she grabbed the box from Reiji. "Look, if you aren't going to sit still where the Captain put you, stay out of the way." She turned with a huff towards the bow of the ship where a loose rope was swinging wildly in the wind.

Yukio wrinkled his nose a bit. Stay out of the way. No, he wouldn't be a liability on this trip. Tatsuma and his brother had done what they could to help and, as much as he hated this ship's captain, he would make sure to do his due diligence.

He turned his head and spotted the woman from earlier steering the ship. Shura. He had learned all of their names during his time waiting in Renzou's quarters and Yukio had made sure to commit them to memory. He crossed the deck towards the steering wheel and before he could open his mouth, Shura spoke.

"No, I don't know when the Captain will wake up and I don't know how far away we are from Tartarus," she said sternly.

"I wasn't going to ask that," Yukio growled. "Now will someone allow me to speak or will I be silenced the entire trip?"

"Hell's fuckin' bells. What do you want, Your Highness?" Shura asked in a sickly sweet voice. Yukio realized he was going to have to get used to that tone despite how much it absolutely pissed him off.

"I want to be useful to the ship during this trip," he managed to speak in a steady tone as he crossed his arms. "So tell me what I can do to help."

Shura raised an eyebrow and was silent for a beat before she returned her attention to steering the ship. "Lundstrom!"

"Yeah?" Two voices responded, one from the hatch leading below deck and one from the bulking blond that was working at the base of the mast.

"Our prince wants to make himself useful! Give him the newbie treatment!"

The Lundstroms both grinned and Yukio heard a loud sigh of relief from the crow's nest.

"Does that mean I get to skip my shift?!" Lewin called down.

"If he does it right within the first twenty times, sure!" Shura called back.

"Wait, what?" Yukio looked between them as Gunnar and Gunnan approached the helm. "What am I doing exactly?"

"This!" Gunnar grabbed Yukio's arm and lifted him effortlessly, depositing him down on the deck. Just as he released him, Gunnan pushed a mop into his hands.

"Newbies are stuck on cleaning duty for the first few days. Maybe less if you do it right," Gunnan said, with a smirk. "Here's your bucket and you can get the mopping water from the ocean."

Yukio thought of protesting. He really did. After all, Yukio had never touched a mop in his life. He had no idea how to do it, nonetheless how to do it properly. On top of that, how in the world was he supposed to get water from the ocean when they were currently moving through it at full speed?

But Yukio bit his lip and let out his frustration in a light growl.

"Fine," he muttered. "I'll clean."

"Great!" Gunnan smacked the back of Yukio's shoulder and propelled him towards the edge of the ship. Gunnar tossed an empty bucket at his feet once Yukio regained his footing.

"Let us know if you need any help, Your Highness!" Gunnar grinned with his brother.

Yukio glowered at them, but somehow managed to contain his frustration once more as he snatched up the bucket and stalked towards the edge of the ship.

Humiliating. Absolutely humiliating. He felt as though he had become a punching bag the moment he'd stepped on the ship. He was a new toy, someone new to boss around, and they all knew he was at their mercy and in their territory.

Well, the only way to fix that was to make it his territory as well. He would integrate himself into the crew whether they liked it or not.

But until then, he had to clean. Yukio looked over the edge of the ship and sighed. They were moving rather quickly and the deck was high up above the surface of the water. There was no way he could get it with just his hand and the bucket. He needed... a rope.

He turned around to look for one when Sinbad trotted up to him, a coiled up rope between his teeth. Yukio smiled.

"Good boy," he murmured, putting down the bucket in order to give Sinbad proper attention. "You saw me with the bucket and knew exactly what I needed, didn't you? What a smart, experienced crew member you are."

Sinbad whined happily, his tail wagging in utter glee. Yukio dedicated a few seconds to his praise before taking the rope and fastening it around the handle. The knot was clumsy, but he was sure it was sturdy at least. Then he wrapped the rope around his arm and began to lower the bucket.

"HEY!" A familiar voice paused Yukio in his tracks and Reiji rushed over, snatching up the rope and preventing it from lowering any further.

"What are you doing?" Yukio frowned.

"What are YOU doing?!" Reiji shot back as he ripped the rope from around his arm. "You're gonna snap your fuckin' wrist like that!"

"I—" Yukio blinked in shock. "But—"

"I! But!" Reiji repeated mockingly. Yukio's face burned red in angry humiliation. Reiji continued. "Pay fucking attention." He wrapped the end of the rope around the center of his palm once, making sure it ended in the center and closed his fist around it. He waved it in Yukio's face. "Like this. It'll give you a strong hold but if the bucket gets away from you, you can just let go and avoid losing a fucking hand. We can replace a bucket, but no one’s got time to wait on you hand and foot if you get hurt. Got it?"

"I wasn't expecting you to wait on me!" Yukio shot back as he tugged the rope away. Reiji let it go with a roll of his eyes.

"Just don't get tugged out by the waves," he snapped before heading back towards the bow. Izumo was sitting on the bowsprit, fearless of the churning water below her and immediately began impatiently snapping at Reiji upon his return. He, of course, gave it right back to her before they returned to work.

[Continue reading!]

[tonguetiedraven]

Okay, so- I know you like bonrin, obviously, but I also know you like tatsuma and torako. I have a headcanon that maybe you could possibly write about? Ik you dont like writing fights or whatever but this can be like a minor dispute, not even a big deal. But I hc that Tatsuma calls Torako pet names when she's upset with him to try and get on her goodsidw, but the thing is Ryuuji also picked up on this habit so he ends up calling Rin sweetheart or smth else after Rin and him get in a little fight and Rin picks up on it?

I use this in stories sometimes (it has been all over Hot and Yeti) and I positively love the idea <3

— — — — —

“Sweetheart—”

Rin huffed and turned his head. He wasn’t going to melt this time. 

“Please?”

Rin melted only a tiny bit. It could hardly even qualify as a melt. 

“Sweetheart, please look at me?” 

Rin turned his head the slightest bit. 

“Honey, I’m sorry. I should have brought that up.” 

“Yeah!” Rin crossed his arms tighter and glared off to the side again. He was not going to melt!

“Rin, love,” Rin went stiff as his body started to turn a little. That wasn’t playing fair. “I’m sorry. I’ll fix it.” 

Rin turned back to Ryuuji and let his hands be grabbed. “Okay,” Rin sighed.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Ryuuji said again, drawing him close and brushing a few strands of hair out of Rin’s eyes. Rin promptly melted.

It was, in all honesty, kind of a thing. Ryuuji had called Rin a lot of things over their relationship. Primarily moron and Okumura for the first portion, though monkey, dumbass, and idiot had also featured, all with varying degrees of fondness, until it was mostly Rin, and then sunshine had joined that, babe too, and Rin far preferred those mainly for the way Ryuuji said them.

But the other three…

Sweetheart was the most common, and Rin loved Ryuuji and was ecstatic with their relationship and loved far more about Ryuuji than he didn’t, but it sounded like something an old person would use. 

(That didn’t stop it from making his heart go all swoopy and making him melt a little. He was someone’s sweetheart.)

Honey was a bit rarer, and it also sounded elderly and married-for-ages-like. Rin didn’t concentrate too much on how much he liked it and how much it made him feel like they were going to go the full distance.

Love was the rarest, and it only showed up after the other two. It should sound a bit silly and probably condescending, but it did not. It sounded sincere and always drew Rin’s attention and had his heart squeezing a bit.

Sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m still here, and warm arms around him as he sank into Ryuuji’s hug and tried not to cry.

Honey, we’re gonna figure it out. I know we will, and trusting that Ryuuji was going to put in the work and that they’d build something incredible together.

Love, I’m sorry, and believing Ryuuji was and working to fix it…

The other thing about the three names, was that they almost always only happened after an argument or a fright. They almost always happened when Ryuuji wanted Rin to forgive him or when Ryuuji was being gentle, and Rin was helpless to them and it was stupid, but he couldn’t help it and he retaliated with all the silly and sweet and creative names he could come up. (Some made Ryuuji laugh, some made him blush, some made him freeze as he tried to work them out before he rolled his eyes, some made him punch Rin, and some made him simply raise an eyebrow, and Rin loved all the reactions.)

But it was just those three, and it was just those moments, and it was just a strange little quirk of their relationship — not nearly as strange as other parts (things got weird when you were a half demon.)

Until Kyoto.

They were there for Christmas and New Years, again, and Rin was helping with the celebration dinner because Torako trusted him to help with the running of her inn, and Rin loved helping to create menus and it was always a fun challenge to create enough for everyone that wanted some. 

Ryuuji was at the temple because Rin’s over achieving boyfriend had a hard time not working in some way when he was in Kyoto, and it would be an entirely normal and even happy moment, working in the kitchen with Torako, but it was kind of obvious Torako was upset about something.

She, much like Ryuuji, was all polite and smiles whenever Rin was looking at her or talking to her, but it was frowns when he wasn’t and even a scowl as she pulled a pan out a bit more noisily than necessary.

Rin gave her a wide berth like he’d give a grumpy Ryuuji and took on the more annoying tasks for the meal. 

Tatsuma came as he was finishing up the plating for the grilled fish. 

“Sweetheart?” He asked, and Rin found his eyes darting curiously towards the master of the Myōō Dharani. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No. And I’m sure there’s somewhere else you should be right now.”

Tatsuma left with a sigh and a “I’ll see you later, my love.”

It was darling when he brought her an after dinner drink, and dearest when he took all the dishes away. Peach for the flowers, and finally tiger for when he asked her out for a late night stroll. (Which she actually accepted, and they both came back giggly like middle schoolers.)

Rin watched it all with slowly widening eyes. 

— —- — — —- 

The thing was, they didn’t actually get in fights all that often. Despite both giving off the appearance of hot headedness, they got along and agreed far more often than not, and when they did get in a fight, they were both usually equally wrong, or Rin had done something reckless, so it took him a while to figure out his slowly evolving theory.

But when Ryuuji came home late (again) because of an assignment with Lewin, and he hadn’t called and he’d left Rin worried, Rin got an (unwelcome) chance to test his theory.

He’d loudly done the dishes so Ryuuji would know how unhappy he was (because even if it was missing and worrying about Ryuuji that had him mad, the grumpy anger wanted to make Ryuuji upset by not being around so he made a point to clean and fuss and hang out in any room but the room Ryuuji was in.) And he’d loudly made them lunch for the next day (so Ryuuji would know how lucky he was to have Rin and how badly he’d treated him.)

And as always, Ryuuji came into the kitchen silently and helped to put away the dishes (because stupidly tall boy didn’t have to climb the counter to reach the top cabinets) and silently wash down the stove, and Rin tried to leave with a huff only for Ryuuji to gently catch his hand with a sweetheart, I’m sorry.

“You should be,” Rin grumbled, and tried not to look like a curious cat as his attention shifted from being wronged to being curious. 

“I know, honey. I’ll tell him I gotta be home on time tomorrow.”

Rin, now entirely in this thing, huffed (hopefully Ryuuji couldn’t tell the heat wasn’t there) and turned his head away. 

“Love,” (and it wasn’t fair how much Rin could feel himself softening, and he wasn’t even mad now, just a bit scared and worried for Ryuuji who always overworked when things got intense and gave himself migraines) “It won’t happen like this again. I’ll call or at least text. I’ll let you know.”

Rin huffed again and tried to stand straight and not slump against Ryuuji’s warmth. He had to test this out, and really, Ryuuji could have called. Rin knew Lewin was a whirlwind and that keeping up with him was often all anyone could do, but really. 

“Rin, please look at me.” Ryuuji said, and Rin did (he couldn’t help it when Ryuuji got that tone.) “Dear, I promise it—what?!”

Rin couldn’t help it. The cackle had broken free from his lips before he could possibly stop it, and he was wrapping Ryuuji up in the tightest sort of hug, lifting him up, and spinning them both around. 

“You dork!” He laughed, and then kissed Ryuuji on his indignantly squawking mouth and hugged him all the tighter.

Later when they were cuddled up together under the blankets, Ryuuji asked what the laugh had been about (because he had an annoyingly impressive memory. At least until it came to calling Rin about being late for dinner, but Rin was going to forgive him that.)

“You know you dad does it?”

Ryuuji, who had been tracing his knuckles along Rin’s cheek in a gentle way, promptly drew back with alarmed confusion. “What?”

Rin simply pulled his boyfriend back in close. “The names. Do you even realize you do ‘em? You know, sweetheart and honey and love, and now dear apparently. Your dad does that with your ma.”

Ryuuji’s nose wrinkled. “What?”

Rin nodded sagely and tucked his head against Ryuuji’s shoulder. “Yep. He does them all to try and soften her back up.” Rin gave Ryuuji a playful grin and got a hand over his mouth before he could make a dirty joke. 

“I—yeah, he does, but I—”

“Do the same thing,” Rin garbled behind Ryuuij’s hand. “It’s cute.”

“I’m not cute!”

Rin freed himself and shoved Ryuuji back against the bed. “Are too!” Then, with an enormous grin that had Ryuuji yelping and scrambling to cover his mouth again, (but not quickly enough,) “Darling!”

Ryuuji shoved him onto the floor, and Rin could just cackle on his way down. He loved this boy, silly sweet names and all.

[kaienmaru]

Kamui had been struggling to actually get back to his men. Having been way too careless when it came to his most recent state, he ended up battered and on the verge of death. Blood seeping from so many wounds, it was a miracle he hadn't been unconscious. Sheer spite and will power kept him going.

His breathing was so hoarse and rough, he looked like he might keel over any second now. Having held his side, which had an especially bad wound from a samurai's sword. It ended up so deep inside him before he had been able to yank it out. He had gripped it too tight and it ended up injuring his hand leading the bandages wrapped around him all the time to be soaked with red.

Kamui had stopped upon noticing Sakamoto, staring for a few moments before recognizing the guy as one of Shinsuke's friends. They were friends right? Well, it didn't matter.

''You... did you come here to kill me?'' He was immediately distrusting and on his guard. He was pretty vulnerable right now, even with all his Yato strength. He may as well be on the same level as a newborn kitten.

''I've been dying to fight one of Shinsuke's friends, maybe I can do that now. How about it, huh?'' He unfortunately didn't have the mentality to run from any kind of fight, seeing it as cowardice. No matter how badly injured he was. Something he refused to ever be again.

''I'd love to kill you.''

Yatos did live on the battlefield, and that meant dying on the battlefield was even more suitable for them too.

Although, it took everything in him to just keep standing. It wouldn't take much to kill him.

relief washes over him when he spots the one he's been looking for; especially when he notices the amount of injuries he's sporting and their severity. tatsuma knows better than to simply run over, though. injured creatures who feels cornered can be dangerous.

the other, in turn, seems to have spotted him too. and just as he expected, his expression turns guarded, and tatsuma doesn't miss the way he attempts to conceal his pain as he tries to goad tatsuma into a fight.

“ehh? no, thank you,” he replies good-naturedly, keeping his hands relaxed but constantly visible so the other can see that he's not trying to pull some trick. though even then, he's aware that the other may not care for such excuse, “i'm a pacifist, you know? i don't like unnecessary violence. we barely even know each other, what reason would i have to want to kill you?”

tatsuma knows that the boy in front of him holds a viewpoint that is antithetical to his. the yato tribe values strength and battles, and perhaps none more so than him. he might even think there is no such thing as unnecessary violence, but tatsuma hopes that the boy at least believed him when he said that he's not here to end his life.

“you see, we just happened to run into some of your comrades, and they asked us to help look for you,” he explains gently, “you got some good people by your side, yeah? so don't you go dying on them just yet.”

he's been slowly inching forward to close the distance between them, and now that he's right before him, tatsuma holds his hand out. though whether the other would take it and let him help is another matter entirely.

@lostusagis

[comicgeekscomicgeek]

Their Hero Academia -- Chapter 97: We Interrupt This Broadcast

Continuing my nextgen MHA fic!

Earlier chapters can be found here or by searching the “their hero academia” tag.

“So,” Isamu said, “Torino hasn’t gotten any less intense since this thing started.”

Ater another round of check-ups from the Festival’s medical staff, the various competitors had been led to waiting rooms while the Festival staff finished repairing the arena. Amani’s over the top stunt had done quite the number on it, enough so that he couldn’t help but wonder if SSZ would get stuck with the repair bill. U.A., Shiketsu, and SSZ each got their own room, while Ketsubusu, Isamu Academy, Seiai, and Seijin, having only one or two competitors left each, were sharing a single room. There were drinks and snacks like power bars, fruits, and vegetables. He’d chugged a GatorMade (an electrolyte drink with a gator-man for a mascot), but otherwise Isamu didn’t feel much like eating.

“She’s always been like that,” Midoriya said. He made significant eye contact with Isamu, a subtle tilt of his head seeming to ask, are you okay?

Isamu shrugged in response. How okay was someone expected to be after being assaulted by someone objectively faster and infinitely more skilled, who was somehow convinced you’d been gifted a power going back almost to the dawn of Quirks?

Except, the fact of the matter was, he didn’t have One for All. Not even the percentage that Deku had gifted the Shield.. Deku and Tamaki Togata had explained that he’d just been loaned a sliver of it, just enough to protect him for a few moments on I-Island before he’d exhausted those embers. 

But how did you tell someone like that she was wrong?

“Don’t know why she went after you, Haimawari,” Mineta said. She was leaning lazily against the wall, nibbling on a carrot in a way that made Isamu both want to stare and look absolutely anywhere else at the same time. “Pretty sure she’s got the hots for Midoriya.”

“She does not!” Midoriya protested, waving his hands in front of him. “It’s really not like that!”

“Relax,” Mineta said. “You’re way too much of a goody two-shoes to ever cheat on Iida. But if there’s one thing I know, it’s attraction.”

“Nope,” Midoriya said, “not thinking about that one.”

“Don’t let Ojiro hear you say that,” Kocho said. She extended her proboscis and sipped from her drink. “She’ll rope you into rating couples like she did Asai from my old class.”

“You mean like how I know you’ve got a crush on…” Mineta began. Kocho instantly turned bright red.

Maybe Midoriya’s idea was good advice in general. He couldn’t worry about whatever Torino wanted out of him or whatever misguided expectations were going through her head. Right now, he needed to focus on the last portion of the competition.

But there was absolutely no way he could win this thing too, right? Not with people like Yoarashi, Torino, and Tatsuma in the mix. There was no way history was going to repeat itself?

Right?

Though given the course of his life these last few months…

Yeah.

Not thinking about it was better.

There was a brief knock and the door to the waiting room opened, revealing one of the Festival staff. Behind them, other competitors and officials could already be seen walking past. 

“U.A.? It’s time.”

***

“All right, we’re back!” Present Mic’s voice rang out. “We’ve captured the flag, we’ve assaulted the tower, and now it’s time for the third event! If you’re a Sports Festival Fan, then you know Hero Schools around the country like to cap theirs off with a tournament round! And the National Sports Festival is going to be no different!”

“That’s right, Mic,” Mount Lady replied, “but just like everything else today, we’re going to be seeing a new twist on it. The Green Dagger is about to take the stage and he’ll fill us all in on the details.”

Below, Izuku watched as the Green Dagger took the stage, the midday sun shining brightly off his golden chestplate. He’d never worked with the man, though Kacchan had. He’d called him capable, but arrogant and judgemental. And then Ochaco had said something about that sounding familiar and Izuku’d had to get between them before any property got damaged.

Below, the Green Dagger approached the microphone. 

“In the first event,” he began, “the young Heroes competing here showed their teamwork by working with their classmates and their ability to divide their labor and think on the fly. In the second event, we presented a situation where the odds were stacked against any one Hero. And even then, they showed that they could work together if they had to.”

He waved his left hand expansively. Around here, the sixteen kids were clustered in groups of four, neither their school groups nor the  groups from the towers. Toshi was with Tatsuma, the girl with the three eyes–Makato, he remembered–, and Nozomi.

***

Steven Goodman looked down studying the groups of students with some irritation. Lionel Hopkins, seated beside him, arched an eyebrow. "Something troubling you, Headmaster?"

"I don't like them putting Ushimaru and Amani in the same match. It gives the appearance of favoritism, to say nothing of the unfair advantage."

"You must not have been paying close enough attention this past year, Mister Goodman." The other Amani, Konan, eliminated during the Tower Assault and now free to observe the matches, twisted his head around backwards to address the two large men. For the moment, he took on his sister's own face, while retaining his own voice. "Spencer is one of my dearest friends, but I would not put fair odds on him making it past this match."

"Why so cynical?" Another raised eyebrow and inquiry from Hopkins, his mane bristling in the wind.

"My sister does not suffer fools, and she does not want to be here to begin with. However, she would never be so disrespectful as to have refused your request, Mister Goodman, so here she has been."

A dry smile pulled at the retired Pro's face. "You expect her to take it out on Spencer?"

"I expect her to take it out on anyone she can reach, and my American friend is much too gentle to see it coming from a classmate."

***

The Green Dagger continued, “But as we all know, Heroes in the field don’t often get to choose who they work with. They can be thrown into situations with all kinds of other Heroes, with all kinds of styles and personalities. Which is what we’ve done with our competitors now, all done via random selection. Two sets of four on four battles, each going until four people are eliminated. Those remaining eight will duke it out after that, then the remaining four until only two remain, who will then fight for the top spot!”

…Well, that was going to be fun.

“The first two teams will be…”

He paused for a moment and put a hand to the side of his helmet. “I’ve actually just been informed that we’ll be taking a short pause while we sort out a few technical issues with the stadium equipment. Looks like maintenance wants one last look at some of the arena repairs. Sorry about that, folks! Shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes tops.”

***

A sudden buzzing sound, like a phone on vibrate, caught Kocihi’s attention. It started with Deku, then Rodeo, and then Uravity. Each of them looked pulled out and looked at their HeroNet Phones, with Grape Juice also pulling out and checking his, though it hadn’t gone off like the others. A frown crossed that smaller man’s face at that.

And then Deku’s eyes went wide.

“What?” Koichi asked.  “What is it?”  Next to him Kazuho put a hand on his arm. The Kochos likewise exchanged worried glances.

“HeroNet alert,” Deku said, standing. “There’s been a major Villain attack on an HPSC regional office. They’re asking for whatever Heroes that can get there.”

Koichi looked up and out into the stadium. All around the area, he could see people getting up and leaving their seats. Not a lot, but a decent percentage. From what Deku had said, a lot of the audience was made up of politicians, business people, and others who’d been lucky enough or who had the right connections to get tickets. There were only a small number of Heroes, some of whom were the parents of competitors and others had just gotten invites..

“We need to go,” Deku said. Uravity and Rodeo likewise stood up. “Wish I’d thought to bring my costume with me…”

Uravity shook her head. “We’ll manage.” She frowned. “Kind of selfish, but I really wished we’d gotten to see Toshi’s round.”

“Guess we’ll just have to catch it later,” Deku said.

“I see I didn’t make the cut,” Grape Juice grumbled. 

“Oh, come anyway, Minnie,” Rodeo said. “I can carry you. Sounds like we’ll need everyone we can get.”

“Should we be worried?” Mrs. Kocho asked. Her large, compound eyes focused on Deku. They were hard to read, but Koichi could still see the worry there.

“This is bolder than anything we’ve seen in a long while,” Deku said. “But they’re calling in lots of Heroes. Whatever it is, we’ll stop it.”

“And it’s nowhere near here,” Uravity added. “We’re going to have to hustle.”

As the Heroes left, Deku lagged behind. “Mister Haimawari, can I speak to you?”

Kazuho gave him a curious look. “What,” she asked in a hissed whisper, “did you do?”

Koichi could only shake his head. Using his cane, he got to his feet, his bad knee protesting the movement fiercely. He’d definitely been sitting for too long without getting up.

He met Deku by the door. “What is it, Deku?” he asked quietly.

Deku leaned in close. It was strange, Koichi realized, to see the Hero on such a personal level. This wasn’t the face that smiled for the cameras, or the more serious one that battled Villains, or even the genuine displays of emotion he let show in interviews. It wasn’t even the exaggerated emotionality of the ever popular “Why is Deku Crying” videos that populated the internet.

Just a man, a husband and a father.

Koichi was older than Deku by several years, having practically been a veteran Vigilante by the time Deku had started his U.A. career. But right now, Deku looked older, the weight of all his experiences pushing down on him.

“All my instincts are screaming at me that there’s more going on,” he said. “But we can’t ignore this alert. There’s plenty of security here, both the regular kind and some of the Heroes are staying. You should be safe. But if anything happens… I need you and your wife to keep the Kochos safe.”

Koichi’s eyes widened. “I’ll do whatever I can,” he said, uncertainty making his voice shake. “Not sure how much good I…”

Deku cut him off. “I know who you and your wife used to be,” he said. “It wasn’t hard to figure out after watching your son and going through some old files. And everyone I talked to has nothing but praise for both of you and what you did. Tensei Iida, Midnight, even Aizawa if you read between the lines of his grumbling. But I need to know: can I count on you?”

Koichi swallowed hard. There’d be time to grapple with that particular revelation later. He wasn’t a young man anymore. And it had been a long time since he’d been in any kind of serious fight. Him and Kazuho both. He’d never been the same since he’d wrecked his knee. And her depth perception wasn’t what it used to be. 

Koichi had never thought of himself as a Hero, just as somebody who helped out where he could, someone who offered a hand-up to people when they fell. Sure, he’d seen more than his share of action, but when he’d become the Crawler, that had never been his goal. He’d just done what he could, when it had needed doing.

But this was Deku, the greatest Hero since All Might. And he was asking Koichi for help, putting his faith and trust in him.

Could he do any less than to answer that call?

“I’ll keep them safe,” he said.

A bit of relief flooded into Deku’s eyes.

“Thank you.”  

Koichi said a silent prayer to whatever gods were listening that whatever Deku thought might happen was just paranoia talking.

***

Burai Yamato, the Green Dagger, walked through the security corridors, helmet tucked under one arm. It’d been a good competition so far, if he was any judge of things. Somebody in the HPSC clearly recognized his potential, even if he was currently toiling away in the forties, rank-wise. He definitely deserved to be ranked higher than that. He was skilled and popular. Which was why this gig was going to be good for him; he was probably due to shoot up a few ranks from it. He might be able to swing that to some more merch sales, or maybe better promote his self-defense videos. 

All things considered, it had been an easy job. He hadn’t had a lot to do so far beyond introducing the events. Maybe when the next round got started, he’d have to keep some of the kids from killing each other.  The dragon girl from Shiketsu and the flying girl from SSZ were especially intense. 

If the event even continued. Right now the Festival heads were debating whether or not to go on. They’d even sent the kids back to their staging rooms. Which meant he had a little free time…

He stopped at the main security office and knocked. “Hey,  Reiko, you there…?”

When there was no answer, he frowned. His girlfriend and the other HPSC security officers were probably just busy, but… His own security pass would let him inside, so he swiped it against the door scanner. A soft-mechanical click told him it had unlocked.

Carefully, he pushed open the door.

“Everything all right?” he asked.

It was instantly apparent things were not all right. There were three armed men in the tactical gear used by the Kagawa Securities Group, one of them watching the monitors and messing with the computers, the other two keeping watch on Reiko and two other security guards, all of whom were on the floor and against the wall, unconscious or worse. Reiko had what looked like a nasty head wound…

There were a hundred questions to be answered. The Kagawa Securities Group had been brought in to shore up and supplement the Festival security. Had they been compromised? Was it just this group or were there more?  

But at the moment, his questions didn’t matter. What was called for was swift action. And that was something he could provide in spades.

As he let his helmet clatter to the floor, Burai called upon his Quirk. Five minutes of super-charged strength, speed, agility, and reflexes, followed by another five minutes of cool down before he could use it again.

More than enough time for people like this. 

“HAIYA!” he struck out, hitting the nearest one with a roundhouse kick that sent him crashing into the wall. The sound of the impact he made hitting the wall was extremely satisfying and left a sizable dent in the wall from where his helmeted head had hit it. He fell to the ground and did not get up.

The next Kagawa man tried to fire his gun, but Burai was faster, smacking it out of his hands with a karate chop. A second blow to the man’s neck dropped him to the ground in an instant.

By this time, the third had gotten out of his chair and was trying to bring his gun to bear. Burai crossed the distance between them in an instant, grabbing him by his flak jacket and slamming a knee into his stomach. The jacket’s padding reduced the impact of his blow, but in Burai’s super-charged state, it wasn’t nearly enough. He crumpled in an instant.

Total time elapsed, one minute, thirty-five seconds.

He knew he should have checked the security system first, or alerted someone to what was going on. For all he knew, the whole facility could have been compromised. But he had to see if Reiko was okay first.

He bent down next to her, making sure she was still breathing. He let out a sigh of relief at that. Head trauma was nothing to laugh at, but she didn’t look to be anymore seriously injured beyond that. The other two HPSC security officers were alive too.

Whatever was going on, it looked like they didn’t want murder on their hands.

Yet.

“What the hell’s going on?” Burai muttered as he got to his feet. 

“Oh, my word!” 

Burai looked in the direction of the door, where a well-dressed owl-man stood, a look of horror on his face. He vaguely recognized him from his own security briefing as one of the reporters covering the festival for the foreign news outlets. What was a civilian doing down here?

“What’s happening?” the owl-man asked.  “Are we in danger? Do I need protection?” He tried to step into the room.

Burai had a well developed sense of danger. And right now it was screaming that something wasn’t right, beyond the obvious. He didn’t have time for this. He needed to secure the intruders, alert security, and secure medical attention for Reiko and the others.

“Sir,” he said firmly, “I’m going to have to ask you to go back where you came from.”

Dammit. His five minutes were just about up. He could feel his power starting to fade. 

“<Bloody amateurs>,” the owl-man said, in English. “<Do I have to do everything myself around here? I ought to be charging extra for this.”>

Even if he was waiting for his Quirk to recharge, Burai was still a skilled martial artist. He could take this guy, whoever he was. He was just some bird. Burai charged forward, ready to deliver a powerful strike.

And then the owl-man slipped beneath his guard, grabbing his neck. Burai cried out in pain as sharp claws dug into his neck, before he was slammed into the ground, hard. He hit his head and his vision swam, the room spinning as he struggled to maintain consciousness.

Taloned feet kicked into his stomach and everything went black.

***

As soon as they’d left the stadium, Izuku had summoned the Dekumobile from Might Tower and it had met them on the way. Though he was more than capable of flying there on his own, the Dekumobile–an expanded, four-seater version of the Allmobile he’d had Melissa build for him years ago–meant he, Ochaco, Pony, and Minoru could conserve their energy. Plus it allowed him to change into his costume.

It wasn’t for any reasons of pride or anything like that. He’d done irreparable damage to his body as a young man, even with Eri and access to some of the best healing Quirks on the planet. He was a patchwork of scars, whose hands shook even on his good days, with bones that ached when it rained.

While he had gained more mastery over One for All than anyone before him and learned to make using its power as easily as breathing, it could still be a taxing Quirk if he wasn’t careful. His costume was heavily designed to keep him from doing any further damage to himself. If needed, he would not hesitate to throw himself at a foe, costume or not. He had a version of Melissa’s Full Gauntlet built into his watch, for when he was called into action away from his gear, but better safe than sorry. 

The HPSC satellite office was located in a busy urban district, surrounded by other government buildings and offices on all sides. And it was currently under siege.  Izuku counted dozens of attackers, maybe more, all in tactical gear, and almost all of them using guns. Mostly automatic weapons, but he spotted more than a few pistols as well. A few people did seem to be using their Quirks, but it was only a small portion of the attackers. He also spotted a surprising number of people with heteromorphic Quirks; there were many people with differently colored skin or animal heads.

Those had to be the weapons that Hitoshi had been tracking coming into the country. That was the only way to explain that much firepower in one place.

There were HPSC guards returning fire with weapons of their own and they were holding the line, but nothing more.

Fortunately, there were other Pro-Heroes on the scene already. Izuku spotted the columns of ice and flashes of fire that meant Shoto was already there, along with a flash of white feathers from Kestel and the wooden constructs of Sequoia Rose. There were others too, already fighting or just now arriving, including Inasa and his wife, and many other Heroes who’d been attending the Festival. The alarm had reached far and wide.

Izuku set the Dekumobile into hover mode and looked over at his wife and his friends. “Everyone ready?”

“Ready!” Pony–no, Rodeo now that they were in the field–said.

“Ready,” Grape Juice agreed. “Give me a lift, hon?”

“Of course!”

“Ready,” Ochaco said. Even without their costumes, they all looked steeled for action. She leaned in and gave him a kiss. “Stay safe out there, Deku.”

“When don’t I?” he asked.

“Do I have to give you a list? Because I’ve got a list.”

He just laughed at that and steeled himself as he called up the power of One for All. 

And then he leapt into the fray.

***

Minoru would be the first to admit, he had been a cowardly, perverted student when he had first come to U.A. Pony had helped with the latter. He’d asked her out and had been blindsided when she hadn’t been aware enough of who he was to say no, and he’d had had no idea what to do next. Finding a girl who genuinely seemed to like him had gone a long way towards making him want to be a better man.

And Izuku? Izuku had always been one of the few people to show him kindness, even when he very much hadn’t deserved it. Izuku, who threw himself into danger and broke himself time and time again for others, no matter the odds. The most selfless person he knew had believed in him. 

Izuku had made him want to be a better Hero.

Which was why, as he jumped off one of Pony’s floating horns and landed on the ground, he tried very hard not to be resentful of his friend’s raw power. Deku has no showboater, no gloryhound. Against Villains, he always gave them a chance to stand down, and he never used more force than was necessary.

An army of terrorists got no such mercy.  Minoru could only watch, mouth agape, as Deku tore into them, moving almost faster than the eye could blink, wrapping them up with black tendrils of energy and throwing them into the ground hard enough to knock them out. In the blink of an eye, the number of terrorists still standing had been cut clean in half. Super-strength, speed, toughness, flight, energy tendrils, Deku’s Superpower granted him an excess of super-energy he could use in so many ways that it practically seemed like cheating!

That still left plenty for the rest of them to deal with, though it probably wouldn’t take long at this rate. Minoru spied another group, maybe five of them, weapons at the ready, heading for the building.

“Hey!” he shouted, getting their attention. “It’s grape to see so many people here, but things are about to get sticky!”

With a shout, he plucked and hurled the sticky balls from his head. His first volley clogged the barrels of one terrorist’s gun and pinned his feet to the ground. Another volley made sure he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. But his final volley passed through the other terrorists like they weren’t even there.

Surprised, he threw more balls, to the same effect. But none of them tried to fire on him in return.

Realization dawned on him. Especially since the others looked suspiciously identical.

“They’re not real!” His eyes darted around to the other Heroes on the scene and their fights. Every now and then, he saw an attack pass through a terrorist, just the same.  Either they’d gone out of their way to recruit an absurd number of people with permeation-type Quirks like Lemillion or…

“Someone’s making illusions!”

***

Izuku hated going all out like this. As a child, he’d devoured plenty of videos where All Might moved faster than the eye could follow, watched them in slow motion to see every detail. He could match and even exceed that speed, easily. And had, many times over the years. And while he was always praised for his heroism when he’d had to act very quickly, like during the recent Nomu attack, he’d come to realize how terrifying it could be.

He was stronger than anyone had any right to be, with speed, flight, Blackwhip, and a host of other abilities that made him able to stand up to just about any threat, some of which the general public wasn’t even aware of. But such overt displays of power were often terrifying, even to the people he saved. It was why he did his best to keep smiling, to let people know he was there to save them, first and foremost, above fighting the Villains.

But in times like these, there were no smiles. Just pure, decisive violence.

And even though it saved lives… it did not leave him feeling very good.

Brr-ZAP!

Battle trained senses gave Izuku a moment’s advance notice, just enough to dodge out of the way of the incoming attack. He spun, cape whipping in the wind, to find himself targeted by more terrorists. These ones were wearing heavier armor than the others, shiny and new, and were carrying decidedly more high tech weaponry. Not pistols or automatic weapons, but some kind of laser rifle.

If guns were rare, high tech weaponry was even rarer. Why make a laser into a gun when you could just find someone with a laser or similar Quirk? Larger weapons, like U.A. or Tartarus’s defenses were one thing, or even U.A 's innumerable training robots, but personal weapons were quite another.

Izuku dodged out of the way of a barrage of blasts. Despite the power of One for All, it was always smarter to avoid a hit than to tank one if possible. 

The shots became more desperate, but never once did they land a hit. And if they were shooting at him, they weren’t shooting at anyone else.

But he needed to end this, and end it quickly. “DELAWARE AIR FORCE SMASH!” He brought up a hand and flicked a finger, sending a powerful burst of air forward. The air blast knocked the laser wielding terrorists down and they stayed down.

He could hear the sounds of more laser shots coming from elsewhere on the battlefield.  He hated to resort to such a cliche… but they were definitely bringing out the big guns now.

He drew up more of One for All into himself, his body crackling with green lightning. No more fooling around.

Time to end this.

***

Shoto stepped forward and released another wave of ice, perfectly capturing another set of terrorists. This was almost too easy. Attacking the HPSC, even a remote satellite office like this, with nothing more than armor and guns? There was no way they couldn’t have known Heroes would respond en masse. They couldn’t possibly have expected to succeed. 

And only a handful of them had even tried to use Quirks. He was assuming that the rest had Quirks, but it was possible they were unsuitable for combat.

Or were they Quirkless, like Izuku had once been? 

FWOOSH!

A blast of flame carved through his ice, rendering any speculation unimportant. He spun and saw that a pair of terrorists had snuck up on him and brought weapons to bear, more high tech than the guns the others were wielding. One was still trailing smoke from the barrel, obviously the source of the flame.

“So you like fire, eh?” he asked. A small smile spread across his face. “Let me show you how it’s done.” 

He raised his left hand and released a blast of flame of his own, only for the second terrorist to fire his own weapon, blocking the flames with a blast of… ice?

“Well,” he said, “this just got interesting.”

***

With a flick of her wings, Kestrel rose up through the air, faster than the missiles that had been following her could match. As they shot out ahead, she fired a pair of her feathers at them, exploding them before they could course correct.

Homing missiles from shoulder-carried weaponry? Whoever was supplying these people had deep pockets!

Below, she saw Rollout bowl over a group of terrorists, before popping back up in human-shape. He gave her a wave. “Looks like we’re gonna miss our date night on account of these bums!” he said with a scowl.

Kestrel just laughed, giving him a wave in return. “I’m sure you’ll make it up to me!”

***

WHAM!

POW!

BAM!

WHACK!

CRACK!

THWACK!

THUNK!

Ochaco dusted off her hands as the last of that group of terrorists went down. “Rule Eight of Gunhead Martial Arts, boys: armor’s great, but it just means you have to hit the vulnerable parts twice as hard.”

***

Sometimes, Minoru thought, it was good not to be noticed. Without his costume and with his small stature, he was easy to miss in all the chaos of the ongoing battle. He wasn’t a skilled investigator like Lemillion, and he wasn’t even all that smart compared to people like Iida or Yaoyorozu. But he was smarter than your average Hero and he was keenly observant. 

If someone was casting illusions on this kind of scale, then it was going to take a lot of uninterrupted concentration and, more importantly, a vantage point where they could see the whole battlefield, or at least most of it.

There. On the building across the street. It was tall enough, out of the direct line of fire from any stray Quirks. People wouldn’t be looking that way. And if he squinted, he could just make out someone standing up there.

He looked around and spotted his wife flying overhead.  “Pony!” he shouted, pointing towards the building. “I need you to get me up there!”

She swooped down, riding one of her horns. “What’s going on?”

“At least half the guys here are just illusions,” he explained, “I think somebody up there’s causing it.”

She nodded, releasing another one of her horns for him to ride on. “Let’s go.”

As soon as he’d hopped on, they were off, zooming towards the building. There was a woman there, with heavy heteromorph features. She looked like something out of an old horror film, all pale skin, long fingers, sunken eyes, horrible sharp teeth, and huge ears. She had her hands on either side of her head, clearly concentrating.

She was looking down, not up.  Which meant she hadn’t seen them.

Minoru jumped from the floating horn. “GRAPE DROP!” As he fell, he plucked balls from his head and threw them, not making an effort to aim. He just needed to break her concentration for now.

“Dammit!” the woman screamed, turning tail and running. Minoru hit the roof and rolled, coming up to throw more balls at her retreating back. 

Under most circumstances, he’d have cursed his lack of aim, all of his balls going wild.

But he hadn’t come alone.

THWACK!

The woman’s head met Pony’s fist, rocking her back. As soon as he’d jumped, she’d swooped around and come up behind her. They didn’t get to work together often, but it was a simple one-two combo that they’d used several times over. 

The woman spat, looking between the two of them. “Not today, heroes,” she snarled, a guttural growl. She reached into her coat and dropped a metal cylinder.

Too late, he realized it was a flash bang.  The boom and flash was enough to make him shut his eyes hard and he heard Pony let out a squeal of surprise.

When he could see again, the woman was gone. The flashbang had, probably, been an illusion too. And they’d fallen for it.

But wherever she’d gone, it wasn’t to rejoin the right.

He shook his head.  “Well, that went well.”  Dammit. He should have figured she’d put up more of a fight. 

Still, his world lit up a little when Pony smiled at him. “Good job figuring this one out,” Pony said. “You probably saved the day here, Minnie, even if we didn’t catch her..”

Below, he could see that the number of terrorists had gone down by more than half. And it looked like the other Heroes were quickly mopping things up, Deku’s green lighting dancing from spot to spot.

They just might get back in time to catch some of the Festival after all. Though this was going to be a paperwork nightmare…

Their HeroNet Phones crackled to life.  “Need… Help… Festival.. Attack…”

As one, they spoke. “The kids!”

***

“Man, you’d think they’d make a decision already,” Emi groaned. She leaned back in her seat, staring up at the ceiling. “Instead, they’re keeping us in a state of updog.”

Kota gave his mother-in-law a curious look. “What’s ‘updog’?”

She let out a laugh and a familiar feeling of dread swept over him. “Oh, nothing much. What’s up with you, dog?”

He just stared at her for a long moment. “It’s a good thing you’re family,” he said finally.

In the row in front of them, the Ketsubusu students who’d been eliminated in the second round groaned. With all of his own charges competing, Kota had decided to join them until any of the U.A. students got eliminated. 

“That was terrible, Ms. Joke,” Shamon Fujita, the one with the samurai armor, said. 

Emi gave Kota a punch in the arm. “He falls for it every time. He has since he was a little kid.”

“Pretty bold for someone who can control access to your grandchild,” he teased.

“You wouldn’t dare!” she shrieked.

“Not when you can sic your husband on me,” Kota said. 

She punched him in the arm again. “I don’t know why you’re terrified of him, kid. He’s really a giant softy.”

Yeah, he wasn’t going to ever believe that. He still wasn’t sure the man wasn’t plotting his eventual demise. He’d probably make it look like an accident.

It had been a good thirty minutes since the HeroNet alert had gone out and most of the other Heroes in the crowd had left. Kota would have gone too–attacks like that often did a lot of property damage and needed rescue work–but since he was chaperoning, he had to stay. He pulled out his own HeroNet phone, to see if he could get an update on what was going on. With Deku there, they’d probably take care of it pretty quickly.

“That’s weird,” he said.  He gave the device light smack on the side. Unfortunately, it didn’t change the results he was getting.

“What is it?” Emi asked. 

“I’m not getting any updates on the situation,” he said, shifting his voice to a whisper. “Or any updates. It’s like something’s blocking the signal.”

“That is weird,” she said. She pulled out her own HeroNet phone and pressed a few buttons on it. After a moment, she pressed the same buttons harder. “Mine too.”

Kota got to his feet. Every instinct he had told him something was wrong. 

“There,” Emi said, pointing across the stadium. The students were sitting up now too, noticing something. People were moving through the stands. Lots of them, in some kind of uniform. And it looked like they were armed.

“Ms. Joke…?” one of the other Ketsubusu students asked.

“Stay calm, kids,” Emi said. “There’s got to be an explanation for this.” She slowly rose out of her own seat, flicking out a collapsable baton.

Scanning the crowd, he could see they were on all sides of the stadium now. On their side too. His eyes darted to either side of the boxed off seating area that had been reserved for them. Two ways in and out, on either side.  And it looked like there were people heading out into the arena itself.

Kota started to generate some water, letting it bubble around his hands. If there was going to be a fight, then he wanted to be ready.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Water Spout,” a voice growled.

Kota turned. Three armed men on either side of their box. He was mostly a rescue Hero and a teacher these days. But he’d fought plenty of Villains too. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been threatened with guns. 

He thought of Eri, and their new daughter Himari. He thought of the Ketsubusu students in the box with them,who looked damn near paralyzed with fear. He heard Fujita’s sword clatter to the ground.

He and Emi exchanged glances, both of them tensed for action. She was in her late cities, but still fit and capable. Between the two of them, they’d probably be able to get… four, maybe five of the terrorists in one go.. But not all of them. And in an inclosed space like this, a gun like that could do a lot of damage. Even the misses could hurt someone.

He let the water in his hands dissipate and held up his hands. “Easy,” he said. “No need to do anything hasty.”

One of the terrorists smiled, his teeth sharp and pointed like fangs. “We’ll be the judge of that.”

Better get back here fast, Deku.

***

Koichi was gripping his cane so hard that his knuckles were turning white. There was only one terrorist in the box with them, but there were countless others in the stands already and likely even more in the concourse.

“See?” the terrorist said. He didn’t have any obvious signs of a Quirk, though he was very obviously a Heteromorph, with pale gray skin marked with small pits.. But he was wearing body armor and had a big gun. Koichi had encountered very few of those in his time as a Vigilante and none of that kind of caliber.  “Just keep it calm and nobody has to get hurt.”

He hadn’t used his Quirk in combat in a long time. He wasn’t entirely rusty, having helped teach Isamu to use his, but his skills and body weren’t even close to what they once were. 

Kazuho could maybe have jumped out of the box, but that would have made her an easy target. And neither of the Kochos had combat Quirks. Mr. Kocho had explained that his Quirk was a simple immunity to toxins and poisons. And Mrs. Kocho had some moth-like characteristics, including compound eyes, but her wings were too small to allow her to fly like her daughter. 

If he was going to do anything, he was going to have to pick his moment very carefully. 

So he forced himself to watch and listen.

Below, on the arena field, he could see more of the terrorists. How’d they all gotten in so quickly? And how had they gotten all these weapons in? There were logistics here he wasn’t seeing.

How long had they been planning this attack? This definitely wasn’t something thrown together at the last minute. They had to have connections and intel. Most people hadn’t even known there was going to be a National Sports Fest until a few weeks ago.

Below, the center of the arena had become a flurry of activity. He could see a man in a pseudo-military long coat and silver mask leading the way, along with a massive insectoid… person. They were accompanied by several more of the armed terrorists. 

The silver-masked man spoke something to the insectoid individual, and numerous smaller insects spawned from their body, a virtual carpet of them that scattered to all corners, heading into the stands.

Next to him, Kazuho screamed and clutched his arm so hard it hurt, her nails digging into his skin. Her other hand went up to her face, protectively covering her glass eye. “No,” she whispered, “no, no no no…”

He leaned in close.  “It’s not the Queen Bee,” he whispered.  “It’s not. This is scary as hell… but it’s not that.  That’s not what this is. I’m with you, I’ll keep you safe.”

She looked as though she did not believe him, painful memories dancing behind her eyes. “C’mon,” he said. “Breathe with me.  Pop.”

Slowly, her breathing slowed. “It was like being back then,” Kazuho said. “It just… all came back at once.”

He nodded. “I get it. Not good memories for me either.”

“Pheromones.”

Koichi looked over to Mrs. Kocho.  “What?”

“Pheromones,” the moth-woman repeated. “The man down there, he’s controlling those bugs with pheromones. I can sense them, but I can’t interpret them.”

“Why isn’t anyone doing anything?” Mr. Kocho asked. “Surely somebody’s still here who can…”

He trailed off, uncertain, worried.  “And what about the kids..?”

Any further thoughts were cut off as a dome of what seemed like pure darkness rose around the walls of the arena.  In moments, the entire thing was completely enclosed.

***

KERCHUNK

All eyes went to the door to the waiting room. “Was that what I think it was?” Isamu asked. It didn’t make any sense. Why would anyone lock the doors?  They’d been told the Festival was on a temporary pause, until whatever emergency had been big enough to draw most of the Heroes in the audience away had been either resolved or identified as being no threat to the Festival. 

They’d been told they’d know soon, but it had already been at least twenty minutes.

Midoriya tried the door, but it failed to move. “Locked,” he confirmed. A frown crossed his face. He gave the door a harder tug, to no effect. 

“Why would they lock us in?” Kocho asked. Her antennae twitched and rose up, the feathery appendages flaring out.  Isamu knew that her antennae could be used for some kind of enhanced sensory perception, but he wasn’t entirely sure how they worked. Something like smell? But also more than that?  He just remembered that she’d been able to sense Ojiro while invisible during the sports festival. 

“Doesn’t make any sense to me,” Isamu said. He was starting to get a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. First they’d paused the Festival because of a distant Villain attack and now this? No, something didn’t feel right at all. This didn’t feel like a sensible security precaution. Especially without any kind of communication. Locks like that were more likely to keep people in than keep people out.

Kocho frowned. “There’s people in the hall. Four of them, I think.” 

“Is it the other competitors?” Mineta asked. She didn’t look like she really thought it was the answer, her expression having turned serious. It looked extremely out of place on her face, her lips set in a hard line instead of a teasing smile. 

Kocho shook her head. “No. And I’m getting something else too. Guns, maybe? It’s an… oily thing. I don’t know. Not something I’m familiar with.”

A palpable silence hung over the room. 

“Festival Security?” Midoriya tried. There was a gnawing desperation in his voice, like he was begging for things to just be all right, to be some fluke.

“They lock us in, fill the hallway with guys with guns, and don’t say a word?” Mineta asked. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “As my granny would say, ‘this stinks worse than a polecat convention’.”

“Too busy dealing with it to tell us what’s going on?” Kocho said.

No.

None of them believed that.

The Festival paused, the Heroes had left in response to some emergency, guns were in the hallway, and a whole mess of civilians, politicians, business leaders, and Hero students were perfect for potential hostages … 

Whatever this was, it wasn’t good. They had to assume the absolute worst.

The four of them exchanged worried looks, then huddled up. They had to assume whoever was outside was listening at the door.

“What’s the plan?” Isamu asked, his voice a whisper, looking at Midoriya. “Could be anything out there. And none of us are bulletproof.”

“You want to fight?” Kocho asked, her dark eyes wide. She shook her head and a look of steely determination replaced her confusion. “Don’t have much choice, do we?  I’m not going to be much good unless I can get some space to spread my wings.”

“And to think,” Mineta said, “we promised to be on our best behavior. Of course, saving the day would be pretty good behavior.”

She frowned as though she’d realized the inappropriateness of what she’d just said. “Sorry,” Mineta said. “Just nervous.”

“It’s all right,” Midoriya said. “This is way beyond anything we should have to deal with. But it’s what’s happening. This isn’t training. It’s real out there. Real, and real dangerous. And we’re not Heroes. We don’t even have our Provisional Licenses. So this is dangerous and legally dubious. But I can promise you, if any trouble comes down, you’ll have Might Tower’s best lawyers on your side.”

He closed his eyes and took in a breath. This close, Isamu could see that he was shaking. And it wasn’t hard to see why. Maybe they really did depend on him for leadership too much. That kind of faith and trust would weigh down on anybody.

But of course, he had a plan.

“So Haimawari, Mineta, I want you two ready with covering fire. I’m going to hit the door as hard as I can. Maybe it’ll take somebody down when I do. Kocho, I want you to tell us when we’ve got a clear window for it, but stay behind everyone else for now.”

He looked around the circle. “We get out, we find a way to call for help, we get anyone we can to safety. We only fight if we have to.”

“Good plan,” Mineta said.

“Got it,” Kocho said. She looked like she was going to throw up, but her eyes narrowed in determination.

“We’re with you all the way, man,” Isamu said.

***

Toshi swallowed hard, staring at the door. It was made of metal and slid into the wall, rather than swinging out on hinges. That meant that the locking mechanism was somewhere in the wall too. All of which meant that it was going to take a really good blow to knock it off its hinges. He could definitely do it, he just had to amp up his gravity enough to make it happen.

Manipulating his gravity up was always a balancing act. He could only do it up to a certain point, before it became too difficult to move. It still made for effective blows when he was bouncing around, but it required split second timing and concentration.

All of which was going to be a lot harder to do with his heart pounding in his chest.

Haimawari, Mineta, and Kocho were all depending on him. They were looking to him to give them leadership and guidance. They wanted him to have a plan, to take charge. They wanted him to get them out of this.

He’d tried to be there for his friends over the years. They’d voted him Class Representative unanimously. They trusted him. 

Aizawa-sensei said they relied on him too much. That had been one of the criticisms of him from the final exam last term.

He wasn’t even quite sixteen yet. He hadn’t asked for this kind of stress, this kind of burden.

It wasn’t fair.

Toshi blinked back tears. He desperately wanted his mom. He wanted his dad. They’d have been able to handle all this without blinking, without flinching.

Dad… His dad was the Symbol of Hope. Someone who uplifted the world by his very presence, showed everyone that they too could be a hero.

How could he do any less?

He had not asked for this burden. But right now, he was the one who was there. He was training to be a Hero. And Heroes did what was needed.

“You see anybody who doesn’t look like they belong,” he said, “fire on them. We’ll sort the rest out later.”

He closed his eyes and took a breath. “Meteor… Punch!” His arm snapped out in a perfectly thrown punch. At the very last second, he increased his gravity as far as he dared push it without risking damage to his muscles and skeleton. 

CLANG!

The door broke under the blow, firing off like a metal missile. 

“Argh!” There’d been someone right in front of it. Propelled by the door, they hit the wall with a sickening smack that he’d probably be remembering for a long time. He could only breathe a sigh of relief when the man groaned.

Just down the hall, another door burst out of its frame as its guard prepared to draw his weapon. He too went down in a crumpled heap. Whatever bodyarmor they had wasn’t nearly enough for that kind of impact. It had to be…

Tatsuma stepped out into the hallway, ducking under the door frame in her draconic form. “Good to see I’m not the only one taking the initiative,” she said when she saw him.

And further down…

***

Nozomi inspected the door, furrowing her brow as she examined where it should have had some give. "Amani, think you could slip out, or compromise it?"

Her classmate stepped forward, one hand wavering into aqueous texture as she felt around the same area. "There is a gasket seal around the door, air and water-tight, and the walls here have none of the mobility or hydraulics the arena floor did.There is not enough water for me to rend them the same way."

"Which means, assuming we could even reach him, we're also sealed in too tight for your brother to creepy-crawl his way in to help."

There was a tiny smile from the water girl. "He would likely complain about your description, but not incorrect."

"I might be able to do something if I worked up enough momentum, but I can't risk having you two caught in the wind shear..." Nozomi took her chin in her hand for a moment, then took a fish-shaped energy bar from her pocket, tearing open the wrapper and devouring it with annoyance. "Ushimaru?" She wiped her mouth of some crumbs and bean paste.

The blonde boy had been half dozing, resting in preparation for the next round of competition, and he tipped back the brim of his cowboy hat, eyes turning to Nozomi. "Yeah?"

She pointed at the door. "Smash."

He smiled as he got to his feet. "Yes'm."

***

“Bronco Buster!” The third door went down, taking the third guard with it. Ushimaru emerged behind it, grinning wildly. 

Only the last guard had time to react, bringing up his weapon. Toshi wasn’t anything close to an expert in guns, but it looked heavy and automatic. Ushimaru or Tatsuma might survive its assault, but…

“B.. b.. back in the rooms, all of you!” the man demanded, waving his gun through the air. His finger tightened on the trigger…

KA-POW!

An energy pulse of blue-white light sailed through the air and hit the man dead between the eyes. He was knocked over, his head hitting the ground hard. Ushimaru, the one nearest the guard, poked him with one foot, apparently just to make sure, then gave a nod to confirm.

Toshi looked behind him. Haimawari and the others were out of their room now, and he could see that his friend had charged up another shot just in case. He gave him a small nod of thanks.

Quickly, the others emerged from the Shiketsu and SSZ waiting rooms. Nozomi made eye contact across the hall. “Hey Toshi.” Beside her, Amani was assuming her water form from the waist down again, apparently as ready to act as the rest of them.

There was a rumble as the fourth door began to shake, until it took the form of a girl.  The Seiai girl with the body construction Quirk.  The others followed her out.

“We…we weren’t sure what to do,” she said. “When we heard the noise from you escaping, we knew we had to act.”

Toshi wasn’t going to blame any of them for hesitating. He’d very nearly done the same.

“Shinji!” 

“Mika!”

Mineta and Shinji embraced, Shinji scooping Mineta up into a tight hug and letting her hooves dangle in the air. The others were all engaging in fast paced conversations, all of them voicing their worries, until the hall was filled with their voices, even in the hushed tones they were speaking in. He could give them a moment, but that was all he could give. 

“Okay,” he said, loud enough to get everyone’s attention. “We need to get moving, before they send more guys.  Check them for more guns and either break them or take them. If anyone has something we can restrain them with, that’s probably for the best also” Across the hall, Nozomi was watching him again, and smiled as she gave a nod of what he assumed was approval. It was somehow more terrifying than her ready to fight. 

“If they’re at all organized, they’ll be checking in regularly. And we have to assume there’s more of them. Probably lots more. We need to find a way to call in help.”

There had to be a phone or a computer or something nearby, right? 

“I’m not getting any signal,” Haimawari said, tapping the side of his helmet. “No radio frequencies.”

“And deal with anyone who gets in our way,” Tatsuma growled. She looked upward, towards what was probably the direction of the stands. It was quiet.  Almost too quiet…

“I like the way this lady thinks,” Ushimaru drawled, pointing two fingers at her in apparent approval. “We got some mighty big guns among us, but there’s always a chance the bad guys got bigger ones.”

“Just tell us what you need,” Kayda Tsuchinoko said, the tip of her snake tail twitching.

“And what makes you think you’re in charge?” the purple ninja, Masuda, demanded. “Why should we follow you? Just because you’re Deku’s kid?”

“You shouldn’t,” Toshi said. “If anyone has a better plan, I’m more than willing to listen. But right now, every second counts, and we need to do something.”

“That was too easy,” Nozomi said, sounding a bit exasperated. “It doesn’t make any sense. They had to know those doors wouldn’t keep most of us contained for long. And only four guards for sixteen students? No. There has to be more going on here.”

As if to prove her right, the PA system crackled to life. The voice wasn’t one Toshi recognized, but it practically dripped with menace.

“I will make this brief and succinct: We are The Rejected, the castoffs of this superhuman society. I won't lecture you on why we're doing this, rather I will explain how you'll all be able to go home safely. Stay in your seats, don't harass the people with the guns currently keeping you company, and do not attempt to do anything to the field currently encapsulating the arena. 

“Follow these directions and this will be a story you can tell your friends and family, don't.. Well you'll find out. Also, those of you with children participating in this ridiculous exercise, they will be fine so long as they stay in their rooms and behave themselves. Barring that, if they turn themselves over to our people inside. If they don't: See the politicians in the audience who decided that they wanted to demonstrate this nation's "strength" to the world? You can blame their arrogance for what happens.”

[ms0milk]

Hey! Could I please requests an ANE oneshot

Could it be a kinzo shima x fem reader oneshot where reader is one of uwabami hojos daughters (nishikis twin sister) but dyed their hair red. Could the reader also get along with her family but (like her sisters) don’t really get along with the shima a so her and Kinzo are always arguing. Essentially an enemies to lovers oneshot. For the genre would fluff be okay??

Thank you so much if you are able to. Kinzo is a hugee comfort character.

If you aren’t able to write it thank you anyways!

you came to the right place baby 💛 juzo is actually one of my favs so by extension i love this family to DEATH! have you read the manga? ch 90/91 are shima-fam-antics and i'm a sucker for the big family trope :,) i have some ane stuff in the works (+ i got a shura req a few months ago i'm still hammering out), but i'd love to write for ane characters more! thanks for inspiring me 🥰

a beleaguered raggedy ann

| kinzo x fem reader

a/n: thank you for the request my darling! the details were really helpful, I hope my interpretation is what you were looking for!

Your sisters were only able to hide you for so long before the hotly anticipated, dreaded-- and unfortunately for you, mostly forgotten-- monthly family meeting was called at central Myodha temple.

"It'll be fine, you said," snapping at Nishiki on your right, "You'll look cute, you said!" hissing at Ao on your left. They sandwiched you between them on the way through halls of elaborate decoration. You practically slid through the house on your socks as they tugged you along.

"You don't look bad."

"Why'd you say it like that?!"

"And dad won't even be that mad."

"You think he's gonna be mad?!" Your head shot from one sister to the next, and then hung limply. Defeated.

Hours and hours of anxiety all because you chose last night to be a dumbass.

To dye your hair bright red.

Not even a sexy smoldering red like Shura, it was an out-of-the-box-one-tone kind of red that made you look like an amateur AND a clown.

"Are those Hojos I hear?" A voice chuckled behind the door your sisters struggled to get you inside of. Answering their prayers, it flew open to reveal a welcoming smile (one of many) from Juzo. Of the members of Myodha already gathered in the meeting room, it didn't look like a single one was able to hide their surprise at your..well-- you.

You didn't even bother fixing your messy ponytail from your hallway spat with the girls.

Juzo's smile stuck awkwardly to his face as his eyes scanned the three girls in the doorway. Master Tatsuma waved you inside warmly without much thought, but the previously bustling meeting room had fallen silent. Dozens of members of the order sat in pause around a meeting table and glanced from the back door, to the front of the room, and back again. Summer Obon vacation meant the younger boys were home as well so you had Renzo and Koneko's stunned silence to keep you company too. Young Master Ryuuji, ever impatient to focus attention back to the meeting at hand, attempted to clear his throat for focus' sake. But the only thing that anyone heard was a single melancholy murmur.

"What am I doing wrong?"

There was a half moment of pause before the room exploded into laughter. Your father was the murmurer and continued quietly to himself. He had pressed his head into the table in defeat the second the door opened in front of you.

"Alright alright! Get it out of your systems!" You heaved and finally took a step inside. The Shimas were have the worst time holding it together out of the lot, and your poor sister Mamushi narrowly resisted strangling her husband to death.

"You look--look lovely!" Juzo attempted and steadied himself on the wall to keep from wheezing.

Nishiki and Mamushi took a swing at him.

"You think that's funny you goddamn monkey?!" Ao hollered across the room and made a leap for Renzo who could barely keep her a k'rik's length away.

"Everyone's laughing!"

"I hate you the most!"

The only person in the entire room not laughing was also the one sitting farthest from the door. Kinzo, hidden from your view at his seat beside his father. He thought about getting up and making a scene with his brothers, but some mysterious weight kept him down. All he wanted to do was watch you the second that door slid open. Quietly, in the sea of manic laughter. Ms Hojo going through a rebellious phase eh? He thought, and realized, as you approached your seat across from him, that he was spilling his glass of water into his lap.

He scrambled to mop up the wet with his robes before you--

"Speak now or forever hold you peace, Goldielocs."

Kinzo startled and looked up as cooly as he could manage when he saw you were already standing above him on your way to your reassure your deflated father and apologize to a giggling Master Tatsuma.

He smirked, "There's other ways to get attention you know."

"Just get it over with."

"A quarter life crisis looks good on you."

And you continued to your seat, quietly thankful the blond seemed off his game today. You tucked a loose red strand back into your ponytail and sank next to your father. Kinzo pretended not to watch you out of the corner of his eye.

"Alright alright, jesus, be honest. How bad is it?"

Mamushi thumbed her lip in fake concentration.

"Mamu!"

"I'm thinking!"

"Oh my god." You shriveled into your futon and under the safety of the thick comforter.

"Y/n, come out, it's not that bad."

"You said you wouldn't lie!"

"I'm not lying! It's also not that good."

Mamushi smiled and gave your hand a little squeeze under the blanket, "Come out. C'mon, we're gonna fix it."

"You and what army?"

Your older sister squeezed your hand again but it was quiet in the world above your sheets.

You peeked your head out, "Mamushi, you and what army?"

She hadn't looking this guilty since her goddamned trial. "Don't be mad."

You threw your blankets away in a panic.

"Renzo's been dying his hair for years! I know he'll be able to help you."

"Renzo?! He's like,, ten years old Mamushi!" You staggered up and out of bed but your sister was much too pregnant to follow you.

"He's sixteen."

"That's the worst age to be!"

As you scrambled to throw on your robe and head for the bedroom door your sister sat in thought a moment and nodded her head in agreement. You pulled on a pair of socks, hopping from one foot to the other, ready to make a clean escape before Renzo Shima could even dream of showing up.

Though, throwing open the sliding door, another Shima neatly blocked your path. You barreled into Kinzo's chest but he didn't miss a beat.

"Evenin' Mamushi!" He waved into the room with one hand and with the other he tugged at the back of your robe like kitten held at the scruff. "D'ja need me to get Juzo on my way out?"

"Don't you dare," She grunted, trying to get her legs underneath of her.

Kinzo saluted and with a sudden promptness bolted down the hallway in the direction he came from-- half-carrying mostly wrestling you in tow. Your goddamn socks kept you from putting up any sort of a fight with their serious lack of traction so you resorted to hissed protest and furious smacks.

"I'm-- ow! I'm trying-- fucking chill! Help you! I'm trying to help you!" Kinzo hissed back and you two rounded the final corner in the hallway of the guest house where your families were staying for the night. The pair of you narrowly avoided a total collision with Juzo and Renzo (who were presumably on their way to find you, at Mamushi's request) and before any questions could be asked, Kinzo hollered a:

"Mamushi's stuck again!" Just urgently enough to send Juzo tearing down the hall, dragging Renzo much like Kinzo was dragging you.

One last turn, into a room at the easternmost corner of the house, and Kinzo released you like he was freeing a wild animal that had gotten stuck in his garage.

"What are you doi--!"

But Kinzo held up a hand to silence you, "Shh, shh, hold up Pippi Longstocking." He kept his ear close to the door for a second and turned back around once he felt the coast was clear enough. The two of you stood in a long white bathroom, toilet on one end, sink on the other.

"I really am trying to help you."

"Right, because kidnapping is such a great trust building exercise."

Kinzo rolled his eyes and flipped the latch on the door to lock it, "You you want my help or what? Wanna look like the Little Mermaid forever?

"I-! I..what?"

He trudged past you in exasperation and pointed to a mess of supplies beside the sink. He'd propped an office chair up in front of the mirror and made a show of gesturing vaguely to the whole scene. Jazz hands and all. His silly shaggy hair fell into his eyes like this when he wasn't wearing clips, and his too-big T-shirt wrinkled in a million places after hauling you all the way here.

You'd seen him out of his uniform before. Of course you had. But now he looked comfortable, and if anything, like an actual human person. Did that even make sense? When you grew up in the True Cross and everyone wore long coats, dark robes, and layer after layer of talismans all day long, seeing someone in their pajamas was rather startling.

"Y/n?" He pulled out the seat for you and tapped the back a few times when you seemed hesitant. He bit back the dig he had prepped about you not knowing how to work a chair.

God he really did look human, even under unflattering bathroom lights. The warmth of his skin, the flex of muscle and veins in his hands-- even the silly tan line at his neck and wrists where is uniform robes didn't quite reach during the day. You thought about whether Kinzo thought it was weird too, seeing you in a fluffy bathrobe instead of your father's uniform. If he did, it wasn't showing.

"Y/n c'mon-- I already got everything prepped."

"What, you want me to congratulate you on having a skincare routine?"

"Do you have any mode other than mean as fuck?"

"Not for you," You grumbled into your shoulder and finally took a few begrudging steps towards his invitation. As you sat yourself down in front of the mirror, you eyed the products-- creams and tubes and long plastic sheets. Purple bottles, shower caps, hair clips, a comb.

You watched the mirror some more and Kinzo busied himself behind you, "I heard Mamushi talking to Juzo," he pulled on a pair of little black gloves, "And then I heard Juzo talking to Renzo, and I just couldn't let them go through with it." He tossed a long apron over your lap with a flourish and tied it behind your back.

"What's wrong w--"

"Pink hair, Y/n! Pink's cute and all but Renzo is not the man to ask for color advice."

Kinzo danced around behind you, pouring things, mixing liquid, juggling bowls, never making eye contact long enough to pick up on the anxious sweat collecting on your brow. You gripped the arms of your seat under the apron to steady yourself when Kinzo jerked your chair around. It spun once before he stopped you with his foot, reveling in your general dishevel.

He leaned down close and grinned, "Head back."

Close enough for you to smell the mint of his toothpaste, and much too close for you to truly process what he said.

"C'mon, put your head back for me."

It took you nearly five seconds to figure out that the water in the sink was already running and it took you even less time to lean back into it, at least to get away from Kinzo's dumbfuck smug face.

He tugged one glove off with his teeth and leaned his chest over your's to adjust the water. It was only in this moment that you actually realized that Kinzo Shima was trying to help you with your hair. What did you think he was doing all this time? You reassured yourself that you weren't so stupid as to follow a man you hate into a bathroom just to keep fighting with him. Of course not.

"I can't believe Y/n Hojo is such a rebel," he teased at the same time as he started to work.

You'd shut your eyes the second he got too close to you, so you startled when you felt his fingers in your hair. If you ever had the chance to get close enough to run your hands through his hair god only knows what you'd do. He'd probably walk around half-bald for months-- have to wear half a hat come winter-- but Kinzo didn't seem to have any horrible pranks up his sleeve. Actually, his fingers felt nice under the hot water. Gentle, even.

You very professionally resisted the urge to sigh with content, but you couldn't stop your eyebrows scrunching every time he massaged your scalp just right.

"It feels nice to get your hair washed, right?"

You huffed.

"It feels nice to be nice too, 'should give it a try sometime."

You opened your eyes to see exactly what direction to throw your next retort, but Kinzo splashed water across your face in time to dodge the worst of it. You sputtered in anger and snatched the towel at his hip to dry off with. "You ever get sick of pranks you goddamn monkey?"

"That was self defense! I'm on my best behavior." Kinzo's voice was lighthearted as he held the back of your head, gently guiding you back up to sitting. A towel appeared behind your back and with one more twist you were around facing the mirror again.

He ran his hand up the shell of your ear to catch any drops of water before they trickled down your neck, "If Juzo and Mamushi can get along Y/n, so can we."

"My big sister married your raggedy ass brother and just like that we're expected to get along."

Kinzo began to part your head into sections and ran his hands through your hair a few more times. Maybe to measure something or maybe just to get under your skin. Worst of all, you let him.

"What are you even trying to do?"

"I'm lifting the color out, it wont be perfect but it'll better than this."

Under any normal circumstances, your shame would have you raging at that comment, but, he was right. You either needed to let one Shima help you or have all seven of them choke back laughter until the color grew out.

He scooped up the bleach mixture in his newly gloved hand and smoothed it along the sections of hair he created. Piece by piece he moved up your head, smoothing, wrapping, and clipping out of the way. Kinzo was nothing if not methodical, a characteristic you'd hardly ever seen him employ. His eyebrows laced themselves up, down, and knit in concentration behind you.

"Why are you helping me?"

"My brother loves your sister."

"That's not what I mean."

"I couldn't fall asleep knowing Renzo was your last line of defense."

You looked at yourself in the mirror for the first time, realizing you'd spent every second in here with your eyes either shut tight or glaring at the snarky blond, "I would hardly say we're close enough for you to lose sleep over me."

"We trained together all our lives Y/n, our graduating class had six people."

"Six people wasn't enough to keep me from drowning in your stupidity. I was completely surrounded."

"You and your sisters made up more than half the cram school! If anyone was surrounded it was me."

Kinzo might have caught your chuckle if you weren't so adept at hiding them from him. He was goddamn funny and you hated any chance he took to make you laugh.

"We were partners for every project ever assigned, every mission-- you can't just pretend not to remember that we had fun sometimes," Kinzo continued.

"There's an idea.." You grinned and closed your eyes to keep them from watering at the strong smell of bleach, "And!" you added, throwing up the apron a bit as you raised your finger to make a point, "It was only because Professor Todo said family couldn't pair off."

"And still you picked me over the other two kids."

"Nish and Ao always snapped them up too quick!"

"Picking me last is still picking me!" Kinzo hollered and when you looked back into the mirror to protest again you realized you were both laughing with big, wide smiles.

Kinzo realized too, and his smile grew even bigger for a second. Toothy. Although, he didn't say anything. Nothing sarcastic, nothing rude. His face seemed to settle into a grin and he went about his business humming into the last few sections of your hair.

"You know," he murmured, still smiling ever so softly, "we're allowed to get along."

If you'd been looking at him you might've melted into your seat a bit, but a well-timed yawn on your part drowned out any of his soft whispers. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand and cocked a head at him, "Wha'ya say?"

He shook and and slipped back into his usually irritating smirk, "We're almost halfway finished."

"Half way! Jesus, Shima it's 11."

"You gotta let bleach do its thing."

"Is its thing keeping me up all night?"

"No, that's my-" Kinzo caught himself before innuendo caught up to the rest of the room, "never--just-- you have half an hour to kill before you can rinse this out."

"Half an hour!"

"Purple shampoo," he pointed to one bottle, "purple conditioner," and to the other, "and then we're all finished."

"'We' nothing! Go on, out with you, I have too much hair to wash all this out in the sink and I have NO need for your help in the shower."

Kinzo didn't expect anything too much different and was genuinely grateful to finally be sent off to bed, but you weren't as loud as you should have been. You kicked at him and shoved him out the door, sure, but not even a single Monkey left your lips.

"Just go to bed!" You whispered as loudly as you possibly could into the quiet hallway where Kinzo was standing a bit shocked. He had his bleachy-gloved hands hands hovering beside either side of his head as he started on the way back to his room, formulating a plan to get them off without ruining anything in this ancient mansion of absolutely incalculable value.

The fumes from your hair must've agitated that tiny common sense section of your brain because before he could fully turn the corner and disappear you had one more hiss to hiss, "Thank..thank you! Kinzo."

He waved in response but that last bit made his head turn. He ogled for a sec, at the thanks partly, but mostly at how cute it sounded when you tried not to say his name too loud.

"S-sure thing, Y/n."

Oh, no.

You slipped back into the bathroom silently and sat down on the floor behind the door.

It was Kinzo's turn to be late today. Final meeting of the weekend and he'd stayed up just slightly too late to hear his alarm. Down the hall, careful not to trip or bump any precious artifacts of the wall with his k'rik, he soared to the meeting room. He heard Master Hojo before he even got close enough to step inside, Master Tatsuma too. The door was already wide open.

Kinzo, framed by the doorway, slid into the meeting hot on his socks in what would have been a particularly funny entrance had you not already stolen the limelight again. The last breath he took before stepping inside escaped his lungs in a wheeze that came out only as,

"Oh."

You turned around sharply from your spot at the front of the room (once again apologizing in front of Master Tatsuma) and locked eyes with the Shima trying to glide into the meeting unnoticed. Kinzo had definitely seen you angrier than this.. right? Maybe not since..well no, maybe not.

Pink. That's all he could think of.

Your hair was so unbelievably pink.

And so fucking cute.

Oh, no.

"Kinzo! This is not better!" Juzo tried to be serious in front of Mamushi but any Myodha could see that he was attempting the impossible by holding back his amusement.

Kinzo turned back to you "Y/n I'm--" and before he could apologize, raised an eyebrow.

It wasn't anger furrowing your brows together. You were nearly in tears trying not to laugh.

He was right, he'd never seen you like this before. Did anyone else in the room even notice?

You bit your lip to force the corners of your mouth back down before you turned back to your father, who just quietly begged you to take your seat.

In your spot across the room from his, with the meeting finally distracting everyone else, Kinzo stared at you until he had your attention.

I'm sorry, he mouthed.

But you didn't say anything back. Only looked from him, to Renzo and back again. The two of you had to turn away from each other to stifle the laughter and spent the better half of the meeting, unable to even make eye contact.

"Y/n," Ao prodded you under the table after one too many noisy exhales.

Sorry, so sorry. You tried to mouth to your sister but her focus was strictly on the cheery Master Tatsuma, "Nish, I'm sorry." You grumbled out of the corner of your mouth to your other sister.

"Excuse yourself if you can't be quiet," Nishiki suggested.

"Yes Y/n, no one will be offended if you need a moment."

This time it was Master Tatsuma who spoke. That very stunned second, Kinzo rose and as politely as anyone in a hurry could manage, stepped out, and closed the door behind him. It felt obvious to you that he was losing the fight against his laughter, but murmurs of upset stomach?s and, bad seafood? drifted through the crowd.

"And while you're out there, do check on young Shima for us." Tatsuma smiled generously and you knew somehow he must have been amused.

You stood before the room of, honestly at this point, absolutely exhausted and sick-of-you-Myodhas, and apologized with a shallow bow, "Please excuse me sir." And then you too, slipped behind the large meeting table and out the back door with a click of the closing screen.

The laughter you could barely suppress before waned easily when it was replaced by this rising embarrassment. But before you could truly despair, Kinzo Shima rounded a corner and snatched your wrist in his grasp.

"Y/n, how in the world! Did. You. Do this."

"Shh!" You seethed and snatched him right back. Snatched him so hard he followed your grip without protest, far down the back hallway and into an empty bedroom.

"The bleach gave me a headache," you groaned, "I had to rinse it out!"

"I don't know how but I think this must be my fault."

There was a pause as you two hovered in a doorway, and Kinzo covered his mouth to choke the smile he had for his own joke. He still wasn't sure what exactly made you angry. Or what made you laugh.

But it was him.

You huffed first, and then covered your eyes as a full blown rack of laughter took over. Your shoulders twitched and then wiggled under the weight of staying quiet, and soon your whole body was trembling. Kinzo almost didn't know what to do, but watching you struggle to hold back a laugh made it harder for him to even stand up straight and soon the two of you were gasping silently for air on the floor of someone else's bedroom.

Mamushi walked towards the garden from the kitchen where she'd spent the morning and watched as your silly scene unfolded in the doorway at the end of a hall on her way outside. She smiled and watched you and Kinzo try to support each other enough to stand. Shush each other and look both ways before quickly falling back into fits of giggles. All in all doing a terrible job of stay quiet. She thought about calling out to you and asking just what was so funny, but quietly turned the corner instead when you and Kinzo tumbled awkwardly into each other instead. Breathless.

It was nice to see one of her sisters so happy for a change.

[craftydragonperson]

Narasaki Ryō wife of Sakamoto Ryōma

I’ve talked about the man behind Gintoki’s main plot. One of the most beloved Japanese historical figures, Ryōma Sakamoto, the man who paved the way towards the establishment of the modern Meiji government. I’ve talked about how Sorachi had Sakamoto Tatsuma’s role more offscreen most likely because he models Ryōma’s trading business ventures, while Gintoki carries Ryōma’s more personal history. Although Sakata Gintoki references the Japanese legend of Kintaro; after certain events he became a samurai under the name Sakata Kintoki; in question corners, Sorachi explains this & doesn't intend on making Gintoki a descendent of Kintaro. Like GinTama’s Sakamoto, Oryo (Otae’s friend and coworker), has mentioned, and rejected numerous advances from ronin man Sakamoto Tatsuma. It’s a spoof on the historical figures Sakamoto & Narasaki.

Both characters don’t appear as much as we would like but their story together have been shared and passed onto Gintoki and Otae. I wanted to talk about the woman beside the man. The woman who captured Sakamoto’s heart. I want to talk about Narasaki Ryo, a woman who pushed back against sexual exploitation and violence, and Sakamoto Ryōma, the man who fell in love with her for her strength.

This is a story so well-known in Japan it's become a just-so-story to explain the origin of honeymoons in Japan. One day in 1866, historical superstar ronin Sakamoto Ryoma is hanging out in his room at the Teradaya in Fushimi, a town just outside Kyoto. Some local guards show up hunting Sakamoto, but are overheard by a maid in the inn's bath. The maid runs upstairs to warn Sakamoto. Some versions are happy to emphasise she does this naked. He draws his Smith and Wesson pistol, and has a shoot-out with his attackers, then escapes into the night, wounded but alive. The next day he marries the woman who saved his life. They then leave the city, and sail off to Satsuma in Southern Japan, where they relax at hot springs, hike up mountains, and enjoy the first honeymoon in Japanese history.

And basically, that’s all true. Minus the honeymoon bit, which is a romantic 20th century rationalization of their escape and respite. It’s a great story, but it usually starts at the wrong place, the bit where a woman saves a man, and seems to be rewarded with marriage.

Narasaki Ryō and Sakamoto Ryōma

We know the details of Oryo’s early life from her husband’s letters to his older sister. She was the daughter of a Kyoto Imperial court physician. Oryo was the oldest of five surviving children, three girls and two boys. She had a privileged, comfortable childhood. She had the education of a cultured young lady: “trained in flower arrangement, perfume, the tea ceremony, and so on” as her somewhat less refined husband later described it. She played the koto (a stringed harp-like instrument) , wrote and read , and learned fine needlework. As the oldest sister, she took care of her younger siblings from a very young age. She would have expected her family to arrange a marriage to a young man of similar status, and to live an ordinary, refined life.

However, when Oryo was still a teenager, her father was caught up in the turbulent politics and plots surrounding the Imperial Court. He was a “Loyalist”, who wanted the Emperor to be “restored” to power in Japan. In a shogunate crackdown on these loyalists, Oryo’s father lost his position as court physician. Furthermore, many of his friends and colleagues were executed, imprisoned or also lost their jobs. The Narasaki family not only lost its income, but its network of reliable friends. A few years later, in 1862, Oryo’s father died, leaving his wife and children destitute.

Ryoma wrote to his sister of the family's state when he first met Oryo:

They have nothing to eat and no one to look to. Sometimes they have been so hard up that they had to borrow household implements and return them after using them. They sold first their house, then their belongings, and then the oldest girl began selling her clothes so that her mother and younger sisters wouldn't have to do the same thing.

Oryo was then 22. She had one teenage brother, sisters who were 15 and 12, and a four year old brother. An impoverished family with two young girls, and no adult male protector was an easy mark for a predator.

Ryoma writes her story: But then the youngest girl, who is unusually beautiful, was duped by some scoundrel and sold into the Shimabara as a maiko; the same villain, without saying anything to the mother, took the girl who is 16 and sold her to an Osaka brothel. The five-year old boy entered a Shibataguchi temple as an acolyte.

Note: these ages are by the Japanese reckoning, by which children are born aged one, and add a year at New Year's Day. By our count, they would be at least a year younger.

(This segment reminds me of another lesson where Otae offers her help to her young-like coworker Hanako who was duped by a swindler).

Several things have been changed & roles of Gin Shinpachi & Tae were moved around for the story.

When the eldest sister realized this, she sold her last good kimono, headed for Osaka, and confronted the villains there. She didn't care if they killed her, and she carried a dagger. When they saw how determined she was, the scoundrel showed her the tattoo on his arm and shouted threats at her. But she had come prepared to die, and so she flew at him, grabbing his clothing, striking him in the face, and exclaimed that if he didn't return the younger sister he had brought to Osaka with him she would stab him. The wretch shouted, "Look out, woman, or I'll kill you!" They went at each other with shouts of "Kill!" and "Do you worst!" After all, through, he couldn't very well murder the woman who had come to Osaka, and so she was able to get her younger sister back and take her to Kyoto with her again. Isn't that a story? The youngest daughter in the Shimabara is in no danger immediately, so she has left her there for now.

It was this story which won Ryoma's love and admiration. “I must say, she has more strength than I do," he closed this letter to his sister Otome. He explains in this letter that he's helping to get her siblings places, and he's entrusted Oryo to the care of the landlady of the Teredaya, Otose. You see, he was already planning to marry Oryo, simply because he was in love with this strong awesome woman. Ryoma had been brought up by strong women. He was an immensely talented swordsman who had been first taught to fight by his older sister Otome. He would later joke that people who knew them believed Otome would win in a fight.

The story of how Narasaki Ryo fought for her family, and then was loved for her fighting spirit, is a much greater and truer story than the first one.

(Saigo, Otose & Otae)

There's a sad ending. Sakamoto Ryoma was assassinated in 1867, and Oryo faded into obscurity. Most of the men in Ryoma's life, including his own family, didn't care about supporting her. The exception, Satsuma leader Saigo Takamori was killed leading the Satsuma Rebellion. Oryo managed an ordinary life in Tokyo, marrying a merchant, adopting a child, divorcing, and living in modest circumstances till 1905. At times in her later life she received some attention from the press for saving her husband's life back in the Meiji Restoration. People said she was an alcoholic in her later years, lost in dreams of her romantic early life. Perhaps, and who could blame her? But I also know that the Meiji era became more and more judgmental of women's drinking. Many late Edo Period women could put away a lot of sake, and that didn't sit well with Meiji arbiters of proper womanly behaviour. Meanwhile, in my opinion, many of male heroes of the Restoration were functional alcoholics, who slowly were slipping into dysfunction. Let Oryo have her sake, without making that the emphasis of her life. She lived a long life, survived, and won a better life for her family.

All the quotes from Sakamoto Ryoma's letter can be found in Marius Jansen’s ‘Ryoma Sakamoto’s and Meiji Restoration’ p. 225-226.

[lilac-5ky]

To Bake A Cake (Takasugi x Birthday Fem!Reader)

A/N: Last month was my birthday and I decided to write myself a birthday fic including my beloved, but due to certain annoying family situations, it took me ages to finish ;-; But it's finally done, and voila, I decided to post it even though my birthday was over 2 weeks ago lmao.

Plot: After a run-in with Sakamoto, Takasugi realizes it's your birthday, and decides to grant you a wish. Who could have thought such wish involved whisking and baking?

guest starring tatsuma and mutsu because i realized ive pretty much never included them in anything.

Warning: Comedic fluff with lots of smut :p

(here's a ss gif because im too much a chicken to dive in the final arc just yet ;-; but he looks fine af and ;-;)

“Takasugi?”

If there is one thing Takasugi Shinsuke has learned during his rather unpleasant sojourn in life, it’s that the sound of his name seldom accompanies a blessing. Everywhere he went, disaster followed, and this place was no exception.

Be it at Edo Mart or a terminal millions of miles away from Earth, a world renowned terrorist should never even dream of setting foot inside a tobacco store with such abandon. Still that was exactly what he did, and now, he was left with no other choice, but to face the consequences of his poor decision making.

With the smoke still in hand, Takasugi hurried out of the store. A head-on confrontation in the middle of the crowd wouldn’t do, and so he kept on walking, until the voice of his pursuer faded into existence. Had he misheard? Could it be that he’d grown paranoid enough to be chased by illusions?

Bewildered, he packed the tobacco inside his yukata, when a disturbingly familiar cackle reached his ears.

“Damn, I can’t believe it was actually you.” The silhouette of a man dressed in a red duster and a pair of dark circular shades said. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed you avoided me.”

This was far worse than a rogue bounty hunter, space fighter or Naraku assassin catching whiff of him. Something he dreaded more than all three combined.

“What if I was?” Takasugi taunted.

“That’s not how you greet an old friend, Takasugi. Especially when we haven’t spoken in years!” Sakamoto pouted, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. “My letters haven’t reached the Kihentai?”

“They haven’t.” He replied in a stern tone, ignoring his friend’s comment.

In reality, Takasugi had gotten his hands on every single letter Sakamoto sent his way, though he never answered back any of them. That’s not to say he never tried to, more like he was incapable of doing so. What would he write? What was there for him to say when there was nothing piecing the two together?

Idle small talk was never his thing. He couldn’t just go back to the time when the four of them chattered about everything and nothing in particular all at once. The bonds of the past belonged in the depths of his mind, along with the memories they shared. No matter how much he yearned to traverse that limit, the only road for him was the one lying ahead. He had no time for distractions.

“That’s a shame.” Sakamoto said, buying into it. “Have you met with the others then? I hear Zura is in the same field you are.”

“Same field, entirely different agenda.” He scoffed. “Let’s just say Zura’s more like a prickle pointing at my side rather than an ally.”

“I find that hard to believe. Wasn’t he the one to always clean after your mess?”

“We’re old enough to be cleaning after our own messes. Times change, Tatsuma. I’m sure you know that best.” He sighed, taking a few steps further away from the crowd, and hopefully, away from this discussion.

“People don’t. When I look at you, I only see the same idiot who put his life on the line for a lost war. Same goes for the others.”

By the looks of it, getting rid or him wouldn’t be this easy. Even when Takasugi walked away, Sakamoto kept trailing after him, until the two made it past the quiet corner of a souvenir shop. As if anyone would want a memento to remember this god-forsaken land by. Other than a safe heaven for criminals and merchants to conduct their business in discretion, this planet offered next to nothing. The lack of sustainable tourism was enough proof for that.

At the back of the store, lied a handful of vacant chairs, one of which Sakamoto sat on and another of which Takasugi rejected. He had no particular intention to get all cozy by his side, not when the cold metallic wall felt far more welcoming.

“Was this supposed to come off as an insult or a compliment?” Takasugi sneered.

“Just an old friend’s insight.” Sakamoto chuckled, stretching his limbs. “I take it you haven’t been talking with Kintoki either.”

“I haven’t.” He admitted, the last time the two of them conversed -or, rather squabbled- still vivid in his brain.

“In that case, why don’t we plan a reuni- ”

“I’m busy.” He cut him off.

“But I never said when-”

“I’ll be busy.”

The last thing he needed was a get-together with these three idiots. Running into one of them was bad enough on its own, be it the lesser evil. Even if part of him wanted to gather around a campfire, tossing stories and insults as if nothing ever soured between them, there was no way he’d never admit it. Not to himself, and certainly, not to him.

“I should get going.” Takasugi said, looking to end this little misfortune, when Sakamoto jumped before him.

“Wait! I didn’t tell you why I was here in the first place.” Sakamoto exclaimed, revealing a rather large box from behind his back, one that Takasugi had failed to notice in prior.

“I don’t remember asking.” He smirked in an attempt to hide his curiosity.

“I was gonna have this delivered at your ship, but since you are here, you should take it.” He said, urging him to grab the parcel. “It’s for Y/N.”

“Y/N?” Takasugi asked, visibly intrigued. He was aware the two of you shared the same beginnings in life, but he would’ve never guessed you’d kept contact after the war.

“Takasugi, don’t tell me you don’t remember your own girlfriend’s birthday.” Sakamoto said in a semi-accusatory tone.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He objected, the latter part of the sentence having yet to register.

He’d rather take his other eye out than let others define your relationships as that of a boyfriend and a girlfriend, but at the same time, Takasugi was unsure of what to actually introduce you as. The woman he slept with seemed too shallow, the woman he loved too grandiose. Perhaps the term partner was the closest at doing you justice. Still, titles meant nothing when he knew precisely what you were, and that was his.

His and only his.

“Is she not? Wow, then I suppose it’s not too late for me to shoot my shot.” Sakamoto declared with a grin.

“Not unless you want to get shot first.”

At his threat, Sakamoto couldn’t help but burst into laughter, nearly dropping the box to the ground. Which he would have done, had it not been for Takasugi successfully catching it midair. It was even heavier than it looked, he noted as he balanced it against his hip.

“I was just kidding! Well, not entirely, but I don’t suppose you plan on sharing, right?”

His silence was the only answer he could spare. A merchant should know better than to go after things that were never up for sale in the first place.

“Besides, I’m happy things worked out between you two. Y/N was a real knockout back home. I never worried about her hitting it off with someone, but you finding someone who can put up with your grumpiness long term? That’s amazing!” He went on, following his words with another of his distinct cackles.

Takasugi could feel himself getting increasingly irked with every word Sakamoto spewed, even when deep down he could see his point. It was true that he wasn’t the world’s easiest person and that you’d endured hell by choosing to stay around a guy like him. Maybe to others it looked as if you were the one who needed him, considering how you always clung onto him, but in reality, it was the other way around. You were the only one who could make these dark clouds disperse, the only one he truly needed.

“Remember how just about half the girls were in love with you, yet the second you looked their way they ran away? Or how you made that girl cry right after she confessed? Poor thing, she even made you a card! Or-or, how every time we went down to Yoshiwara, no girl managed to spend an entire night with you without-”

Just when he was about to mellow down a bit, Sakamoto started speaking again, his laughter constantly breaking his own sentences in half.

“Will you keep listing more unpleasant incidents?” Takasugi asked through gritted teeth, finding it impossible to maintain his composure.

“No, of course not! I was just pointing out how you seem to have found your one true match. Really puts the whole ‘there’s someone out there for everyone’ thing into perspective.” Sakamoto grinned earnestly.

“Then you are lucky more than half the population tends to your standards.” He mumbled, as he lowered his gaze towards the box.

Why did he not know it was your birthday today? No matter how busy he was, he couldn’t have possibly forgotten, unless he never knew about it in the first place.

Come think of it, you first met amidst the war. A merchant’s daughter with great prospects and an even greater future awaiting her, choosing to fund a war she wasn’t part of, and it was all because of him. Because ever since you met, you kept trying to earn his attention through whatever means necessary.

He remembered how persistent you were, suggesting he owed you so much as a mere talk when you’d burnt all this money on his cause. At first, he saw no reason for you to get too friendly with one another. All you were was a friend of a friend, and so, he’d brushed your advances, blatantly stating that no amount of yen was enough to buy him. However, you weren’t disheartened. You kept asking him to name his price over and over again, until he finally caved in and took you on a crappy date by the shore.

Truthfully, he sucked at dating, back then and right now. The right words never came easily, and getting involved with someone during such a crucial point of his life was a hassle. But even when he’d chosen to maintain his silence, idly tossing rocks into the sea, you’d chosen to grab a stone of your own, and join him without a single complaint. You’d stayed by his side until the awkward silence became comfortable, until the moon gave way to the sun, until your nights were filled with hasty kisses and unbottled chuckles.

And then the war came to an end. All survivors either returned home, or found a new place to call that, but he wasn’t among those. Perhaps he never survived that war, perhaps he never left the battlefield. He kept on dragging the horrors of the past with him, but worse, he kept dragging you along.

You were the person he valued more than his life, that was for certain. Every smile, every kiss, every night, even your own future, you’d given that all without asking for anything in return. But why was it that you’d kept something so trivial a secret? Why was it that he had no actual recollection of you ever celebrating a damn occasion by his side? Why was it that he felt as if the times you’d cried outnumbered the ones you’d smiled?

“But, Takasugi, you should know better than to disappoint her.” Sakamoto interrupted his thoughts. “Between you and me, women really do care about birthdays and anniversaries more than we do. You should also get her a little something while you still have time. Usually something shiny or pretty cuts it, but if push comes to shove, then you could always push or shove something else into her-”

Before Takasugi had the chance to truly grasp his friend’s explicit hints, a punch came raining down on him, sending his glasses flying and his head to meet the floor.

“I thought I heard a dog barking.” The voice of a woman spoke in a harsh tone, her presence revealed behind the man’s fallen body.

Long brown hair concealed by a straw hat. Fair complexion and cunning eyes. He’d only seen this woman once before, though such formidable persona was unforgettable.

“Mu-Mutsu?” Sakamoto squeaked.

“Didn’t you promise to stay put, Sakamoto? Do I really need to tie a leash around your neck?” She asked, rubbing the point of her shoe against his throat.

“Wh—what are you talking about? We were only catching up!” Sakamoto cried, attempting to lift her leg with both hands.

“Seems like your second-in-command is far more perceptive than you are, Tatsuma.” Takasugi smirked. “Too bad she’s wasting her potential. Although it’s not too late to reconsider.”

“I’m afraid I see no profit in terrorism.” Mutsu scorned, kicking Sakamoto’s palms off her while he rolled to the side in relief. “Besides, who knows what will become of this idiot, should he stay unsupervised long enough?”

“Fair enough. Although you should take care of yourself. Idiocy is highly contagious.” He said, lightly stepping over a writhing Sakamoto.

“After all these years, I’d like to think I’ve grown immune.” She replied, following his lead.

“There are no bigger idiots than the ones who claim they aren’t. Mix it up with someone like them once, and it’s already too late to go back.”

“Experience speaking?”

“Something like that.”

“Gu-guys, can you not have this discussion on top of me?” Sakamoto begged, trying his best to retract his hands.

With a light chuckle, Takasugi obliged to his friend’s wishes, turning his back on the two of them. “Well then. I’ll be taking my leave now.”

“Oi, Takasugi, don’t forget about what I said! Make sure to-Ouch!”

Once he’d distanced himself from the scene, Takasugi stopped a final time to look over his shoulder. Mutsu kept making use of Sakamoto’s hair as if it were a mop, sweeping just about every piece of dirt, until his pleas disappeared along with the two of them behind the crowds.

“It really was good seeing you, Tatsuma.” Takasugi smiled, his steps heavier than before as he marched in the opposite direction.

“I thought you said you’d buy some smoke before we take off, not harvest an entire field yourself.”

At the sound of the door opening, you set your book down. You’d lost count of how many pages you’d flipped up until Takasugi decided to make it back to his room. For all you knew, hours, or even days had gone by. There was no real telling in the vastness of space. Everything moved at its own pace.

Still, what he did was unforgivable. Subjecting you to the dullness of going through the same book over and over again, while he was out there, most likely caught up in some incredibly fun story you’d missed on.

“If only.” Takasugi stated in a dry tone, closing the door behind him. “Instead, I was made into a messenger by an old friend of yours.”

“An old friend of mine?” You repeated, propping your jaw against your elbows.

There were little to no candidates for him to meet up in space. With the majority of your friends being either at odds with him or straight up unable to afford such a trip, the obvious answer would be Sakamoto. Not because he didn’t belong in either category, but because on a day like this, he was the only with a reason to seek you out.

Your suspicions were confirmed the moment Takasugi presented you with a rather hefty looking box, one that he set onto the floor before making his way towards the window. This definitely was the work of your childhood friend, you concluded, though you couldn’t resist playing dumb with your guesses.

“Hmm… could it be Gintoki?”

A thin cloud of smoke spiraled from his direction, the silence serving as response.

“Zura then?”

More smoke.

“Nobume?” You insisted.

“Just how many old friends do you have?” He stated, rather than asked.

“Then… Shige Shige?”

“Since when you’ve gotten friendly with the Shogun?”

“Since you’ve been taking hours to shop for tobacco.” You taunted, finding enjoyment in your little back and forth.

“Charming.” He smirked, at last turning around. “Tatsuma asked me to bring this to you.”

“Then I guess I have no right to nag you any longer. I wonder what it is!” You gleefully exclaimed in a singing voice, while your hands fumbled with the tape.

Ever since the two of you were mere brats back in Tosa, you’d come up with this weird tradition of finding the wackiest birthday gifts for one another. From vagina scented candles for your eleventh birthday, to a calendar full of inappropriate seasonal pictures of Tamo-san for his twelfth, each year the competition grew more severe than before, with nothing but the sky serving as the limit.

Your anticipation grew bigger over each tape that came off, and you could tell you weren’t the only one. A keen orb of green kept following your every movement while its owner timed each step of his with another puff of smoke. To be fair, he was doing a great job concealing his interest, and if it weren’t for his pipe nearly dropping off his lips at the sight of your gift, then you wouldn’t have known.

Admittedly, it took more time for you to realize what the item in hand was, than for Takasugi to recover from his rapid coughing. The two circular objects at the base, the pink colored mushroomy tip, the vein-like lines engraved all around… Judging by its size alone, it resembled more that of a greatsword than of a sex toy. It was ridiculously big, both in length and girth.

“Is that…?” Takasugi asked, not daring to finish his question.

Picking the dildo up, you failed close your palms around its head. This was definitely not meant for humans, or, at least, not one of your physique.

“I lost.” You admitted, realizing there was no way to ever surpass him now. “I actually lost.”

“There is a note.” He pointed back inside the box.

“Oh? You are right. Let’s see,” you paused to unfold the paper, “ ‘Dear Y/N, I hope this letter finds you in good health, and I wish you a very happy birth-Autumn, from the bottom of my heart.” You quickly glanced up at Takasugi, though he didn’t say a word.

That was a close one!

“That’s quite courteous of him!” You awkwardly chuckled.

“Anyways, ‘In the past month we managed to expand our business in Rakuyo, and this is one of our first prototypes. With the majority of Yato warriors scattered around the galaxy, their women tend to wallow in loneliness and frustration. We hope that with time, they can learn to open their hearts, along with their legs to us.’ Typical Tatsuma.” You chuckled, while Takasugi scoffed.

“Hmm, according to him, its name is ‘Master Sword 69’ and-oh, the tip is detachable and, if you insert batteries, it also works as a foot massager! That’s thoughtful.”

“Is that all?” He sighed.

You unfolded the rest of the letter, finding a postscript right at the end.

“‘P.S. I sincerely hope Takasugi is not as big of a bore in bed as he used to be.’ Oh, Tatsuma.” You giggled, unable to contain yourself. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

“Idiots never change.” Takasugi mumbled as he returned to the window.

“But Shinsuke, what’s that thing he said about you being a boring lover? Is there anything I should know?” You asked, not bothering to suppress your amusement.

“Nothing in particular.”

“Oh come on, I bet there is a great story behind this.” You insisted, only to be treated with more silence.

You didn’t need to take a look at his face to know he was sulking. With his eye narrowing to a slit, and the pouty expression of his lips, you’d grown plenty familiar with that side of his. What others saw as menacing, you only saw as absolutely adorable, to the point of you refusing to spend another minute apart.

You really had missed him.

“It’s fine. No need to tell me.” You mumbled as you pressed your head against the nape of his neck.

He was insistent on facing the opposite direction, but you didn’t mind. As long as he gave you the freedom to wrap your arms around his torso, to take in on his wonderfully intoxicating scent, to pepper every inch of bare skin you could find in kisses, then it was all fine by you.

“You plan on using that?” He eventually asked, huffing some of the smoke your way.

“Not if I can help it. I’d still choose to use you over anyone and anything else.” You cooed, planting your lips near the shell of his ear. “Only you can make me feel this way.”

“And what would that way be?” He asked in a gentler tone.

“Just, you know.” You left a peck upon his cheek. “The best kind of way.”

Although he didn’t mean for you to see it, a tiny smile broke through his grave expression as he caved in to your touch. That was Takasugi for you. No matter the sharpness of his eye, and the shrewdness of his words, the way his free hand cupped over your own revealed all you needed to know. From the moment you first took hold of each other, to this moment here, he remained as enamored with you as he was back then.

The two of you stayed like that for quite a while, until Takasugi drew his kiseru away from his lips to store it inside his clothes.

“What do you want?” He asked, circling his thumb over your knuckles.

“Hmm?” You tilted your head.

“Is there anything you want for your birthday?”

“You knew?” You yelped, letting go of him at once.

“You take me for an idiot?” Takasugi inquired as he turned around.

“….No.” You sighed. Switching out ‘birthday’ for autumn had really done it.

It wasn’t as if you actively tried to keep your birthday a secret, but with the war and him turning to terrorism, there was never really an appropriate moment to mention it. You couldn’t simply show up one day with cake and balloons and surprise your own self, and being the one to casually announce it didn’t feel quite right either. In the end, you pushed this occasion to the back of your brain, the sole reminder of which became Sakamoto’s annual presents.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked with genuine concern.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s just that,” you lowered your head “I didn’t want to weigh you down with another responsibility. I know how exhausting everything is for you, I see it every single day when you collapse in bed without saying a word. I don’t want to be the one to add more to that, nor do I wish to pressure you into buying me a gift or pulling a surprise on me. Just getting to spend my every day with you is enough for me.”

“Y/N.” His voice commanded. “Our lives so far have been filled with more sorrows than I care to count. My eye has seen more horrors than I wish to remember. Do you really think that your birthday would add to either?”

“N-no…” You admitted, shying away from his gaze.

“Then I find no reason for you to be keeping that from me. We’ve each carried the other’s sorrows long enough. Let us carry a joy for once.”

He was right. If only you’d just mentioned it to him before, then you wouldn’t have to embarrass yourself like this in front of him. It was only right that he knew, especially when you’d never missed the chance to surprise him on his own birthday.

“So tell me. Is there anything you want?” Takasugi asked again.

“Are you serious about the ‘anything’ part?” You smiled in mischief, quickly snapping out of your own dejection.

Arching an eyebrow, Takasugi took a step closer until you stood eye to eye. You couldn’t tell whether he was trying to read your mind or intimidate you into giving up on your idea, but either way, you both knew it was too late for him to go back on his offer.

“You’ll really do anything I ask?”

He was most likely regretting ever suggesting that, though he didn’t show it. Instead, he merely nodded, perhaps his curiosity winning him over a second time.

“…Sure.”

This was all the confirmation you needed. “Then, follow me!”

“What kind of wish fulfilling involves a kitchen?” Takasugi asked the second you set foot in the ship’s kitchen.

Out of all the shenanigans you’d gotten him mixed up in, out of every bad idea he’d suffered through, this one would come to top them all. But it was your birthday, and he’d been so generous as to present you with an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that you weren’t too keen on brushing off. Even if he protested, even if he tried to claw his way out, you’d make sure that by the time the two of you left the room, it’d be with your objective in hand; a cake.

“Shinsuke, what is the first thing you think about when you hear the word ‘birthday’?”

“Death.” He bluntly stated. “It’s a reminder that your time is running out.”

“Weren’t you the one who spoke against sharing nothing but sorrows?” You argued in disbelief. It wasn’t unusual for him to be grim, but that was beyond your expectations. “Let’s just skip to the point. A birthday without cake is no birthday at all.”

His expression had turned completely vacant, to the point of you being able to hear imaginary crickets chirping in the background.

“My wish is for you to bake me a cake!”

Even more chirping.

Had he not heard you? You weren’t too sure about that, though once he turned to the door, you realized he’d not only been listening to your every word, but was already planning his escape.

“You said you’d-ugh, do anything! You can’t-ugh, leave!” You exclaimed as you threw yourself to the door, blocking the exit with your body.

Just like he had no intention of honoring his word, you had no intention of letting him go either. A direct confrontation would result in your defeat, but when you managed to get hold of the door’s key, there was little he could do. It was game over. At least for now.

“You know, this won’t be enough to stop me.” Takasugi sneered, watching as you stuffed the key inside your kimono. “There are many ways for me to get that key back.”

“I’d like to see you try. The only way outside these holy grounds is through my satisfaction.”

At your declaration, he couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow.

“Now, let’s get to work!” You said as you paced further inside the room, a groaning Takasugi following closely.

Truth is, you’d only been in the kitchen a handful times before. The Kiheitai already possessed designated personnel to handle everyone’s meals, and unless either of you wanted to snack on something specific, -namely, Takasugi on his beloved beverage- there was no need to spend any time in here, meaning, you had no idea where to find anything.

Starting with the fridge seemed like a reasonable idea, you thought to yourself as you tied your hair into a high ponytail. Eggs, butter and, thankfully, heavy cream. You laid everything on top of the counter before making your way around the drawers, checking the final ingredients off your list. So far, so good.

The real struggle came with finding the appropriate utensils. Bowls and cutlery were easy enough to locate. You even got yourself a light-pink apron in the process, yet no matter how hard you looked, the mixer was nowhere to be found.

“Where is the mixer?” You asked once you’d checked just about every cabinet.

“How am I supposed to know? What kind of faction do you think I’m running?” He snapped, refusing to help in the slightest.

Disappointed, you were about to call it quits when you remembered seeing a whisk somewhere in there, which wasn’t quite the same, but if a certain glaring samurai were to assist, nothing was impossible.

“There’s a whisk!” You announced, presenting it to him.

More cricket sounds. He looked at it as if he’d never seen another.

“You really haven’t cooked anything in your life, have you?”

“I have.” He lied.

“What was it?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Onigiri.”

“That doesn’t make you any less of a culinary virgin, Shinsuke. I bet Zura was the one to handle the majority of the work while all you did was boss him around.” You accused, waving the whisk at his face.

“Not a lie.” He smirked.

“It’s a wonder people follow you when you refuse to get your hands dirty.” You mumbled. “But fear not! Today, your cherry gets popped. As long as we are in here, you are no Kiheitai leader, but a rookie whose wish is my com-no, my wish is your command” You corrected. “Understood?”

Although evidently irritated, Takasugi ended up agreeing to your suggestion, going so far as to accept the whisk from your hands.

“Perhaps you could call me senpai while you’re at it-”

“Not a chance, birthday girl.” He interrupted.

“Fine, fine. Let’s start with the base.”

One by one, you tossed the ingredients in the bowl, while he mixed them together with just about zero enthusiasm. He was such a handful!

“You know, it will take forever if you do it like that.” You commented, slipping behind his back and then claiming his hand with yours. “Let me show you.”

Propping your chin on top of his shoulder, you started to vigorously shake his hand back and forth around the bowl, making sure that everything got mixed thoroughly.

“If you don’t do it this way, the ingredients won’t mesh well together and there will be lumps of flour.” You explained, unaware of how rather than paying attention to your words, Takasugi kept staring down your lips.

As he got the hang of it, his hand began moving on its own. “That’s it! Keep it up, and-”

Before you could finish your sentence, you took notice in how close the two of you were. With your bodies pressed together and his lips curling into a lazy smile, you forgot all about what it was that you wanted to say.

“Y-you can handle things from here.” You stuttered, pulling yourself away. “I’ll go bring the pan.”

Even after all these years, it was so easy for him to get under your skin. One look of his, and your mind was already filling up with intrusive thoughts that involved him using his hands on something else. He’d always been skilled with his fingers, be it at fighting, cooking, or…

Get your shit together, you scolded yourself, repeatedly patting your palms flat against your burning cheeks.

“What’s taking you so long?” His voice queried from the other side of the room.

“Coming!”

Once the pan was in the oven and the timer set, the time for the the filling came. Neither your supplies nor your skills allowed much room for creativity and so, you decided to keep things simple. Some heavy cream and sugar would do just fine, but even for that, his help was needed.

“Can you do this for me?” You brought a clean bowl forth.

“Is that a question, or a command?” Takasugi asked.

“A little bit of both.” You smiled as he took the bowl from your hands. “Do it harder than before. You’ll know it’s ready when peaks start to form.”

It was nice to see him take things more seriously. For someone who was fixed on destroying the world, to be baking cakes certainly was out of character, but at the same time, the image felt somewhat natural to you.

Back when the outcome of the war had yet to be defined, and the two of you had the freedom to dream, you’d pictured such a life countless of times. Instead of sneaking around between stranded beaches and hollow willow trees, you’d be greeting each other under the same roof. He’d nag about the different ways Gintoki -or another of his subordinates- got on his nerves that day, while you’d be setting the table, welcoming his every complaint with a warm smile.

Then after you’d finish dining, you’d move onto the couch under the pretense of watching some crappy show none of you cared about, just he could snake his arm around your shoulders. And at the first yawn, you’d lay side by side on the same bed where you’d be free to cradle his face in your hands and fawn over how beautiful your reflection appeared in his emerald green eyes. You’d whisper ‘I love you’s’ to each other with no fear for tomorrow, knowing that this life would not be taken away from you.

The Takasugi in front of you resembled that of your dreams a lot, except this one kept hissing in frustration at his sleeves. No matter how many times he rolled them out of the way, they insisted to fall inside the bowl, cutting his movements short. With a smile, you placed your hand on top of his. This version of him was perfect enough already.

“Need some help?” You teased, lifting one of his sleeves out of the way.

“I’m fine.” He didn’t sound convincing in the slightest.

You chuckled at his refusal. He was always like that, as if it would kill for him to receive the aid of anyone. If he could bring this world down by himself, then you had no doubt, he’d choose to do that without speaking to another soul. Be it his burdens or his sleeves, unless you forcefully lifted them for him, then he’d insist on doing things the hard way.

With some his frustration evaporating, Takasugi managed to bring the cream to its appropriate state; not too fluffy and not too thick either. You let go off his sleeves and he let go of the whisk, turning the bowl around so to inspect it properly.

“Looks good.” He deducted.

You nodded in agreement. “Let’s see…”

Dipping the tip of a spoon in, you took a taste of your creation. He really had a knack for this. It tasted wonderful!

“Mmm, it’s sweet.” You exclaimed, licking it clean. “Want some?”

For a moment, you saw him contemplate his answer before reaching out. You took it as an invitation, and so you dipped the spoon back in, though you never had the chance to deliver it. Instead, your hand was caught mid-air by his, with your unsuspecting lips falling victim to his own. You gasped, nearly letting go off the spoon as you closed your eyes, finding a taste far more wonderful than any cream you’d ever tasted.

“Indeed.” He breathed. “Very sweet.”

With his fingers pressing at your wrist, Takasugi pulled you closer, until you landed in his arms, and until the thought of holding onto that stupid spoon vanished behind a loud clang. He pressed a kiss upon your lips and then you pressed another, your tongues tugging and swirling in imperfect sync, as you both felt the heat rise in between your bodies. You wanted more, and he was more than willing to take from you.

It was only when you felt his palms dropping to your bum that you realized what he was trying to do. That bastard was way too damn good at this.

“Seducing me won’t work.” You whispered and he chuckled, not at your words, but at how you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from him.

“It won’t?” He taunted, fully aware of the answer. Whatever it was that he was doing, you had no power to resist.

Without breaking apart from your mouth, Takasugi carried you all the way towards the closest unoccupied flat surface he could find. A cold sensation trickled down your spine as you made contact with the hard metal. Not in a million years would you ever think that you’d be doing this with him, yet there you were, spreading your legs wide open for him to nest in between.

His arm remained hooked around your waist when all of a sudden you felt him stop. You opened your eyes along with your lips, sheepishly staring at him with nothing but desire, of which he took advantage. His thumb trailed the outline of your jawline before swiping over your bottom lip. Without thinking twice, you puckered up your lips against it, pressing a peck so gentle as his smile. God, he was so beautiful in that moment, words he stole right out your mouth.

Letting go of you completely, Takasugi lowered himself until his knees met with the floor and the tips of his fingers with your thighs. You glanced down at him, watching as he balanced your knees upon his shoulders, his own gaze solely fixated at your entrance.

“Wh-what are you doing?” You asked, your voice coming out like a croak.

“You wanted to order me around, did you not?” His breath tickled as he moved his head closer. “Look where my hands are now, Y/N.” He demanded, squeezing at your skin. “And my lips.” He went on, leaving each thigh with a kiss. “And my tongue.”

A sharp inhale got caught up in your throat as you felt his wet tongue lap over your clothed slit, the feeling only amplified by the way his eye bore into yours.

“Go ahead and order.” He mumbled, running his tongue along your lips, lest you weren’t convinced already. “How should I use them?”

You had a hard time distinguishing between dream and reality right now. While he always made sure you got to have as much fun as he did, he’d never been this accommodating before, and in a semi-public space, least of all places. You barely believed in your eyes, but then again, the dripping sensation between your legs told no lies. This was all very much reality, and you wouldn’t let it go to waste.

“D-do that again,” you stammered. “I like it when you tease me.”

A faint chuckle followed your bashful confession, it feeding directly into his pride.

In less than a heartbeat, Takasugi complied with your demand. With his fingers squeezing lower, his mouth pressing firmer, and his tongue languidly moving across every inch of your folds, he left no spot untouched. You tried to look down, though your apron stood in the way of getting a clear view. All you saw was a head of purple peak underneath, and that certainly was not enough.

“I wanna see.”

Hands slid around your waist, his eye being the first to undress your body. One by one, the knots of your kimono and apron came undone, bringing both fabrics to simply drape over your bare figure, a sight not even he could resist.

Rather than going back down, his fingers snuck past your garment and onto your breast, trailing your hardened peak all the way to the soft curve of your skin. You smiled. After all, you loved that kind of attention from him.

Once he’d had enough, he returned to his knees, both of you having gained sufficiently better view of each other. You placed your feet atop his shoulders, prodding him to get back into business. A single finger hooked around the elastic of your underwear, with him seeking confirmation in your features. Perhaps you could get used to this compliant side of his.

“Take them off.” You instructed without hesitation, wiggling your hips to accommodate him.

The moment he rid of that final restraint, Takasugi plunged forward, his impatience showing every step of the way. If it were any other occasion, he’d have about zero qualm to push you down and take you however he pleased, but for now, you could tell he was doing his absolute best to remain tame for the sake of honoring his word.

Tentatively, he rolled his tongue outside his mouth and onto your entrance, his fingers spreading your lips for him to pepper the area with short kitten licks. You sighed, little by little feeling your clit swelling up under his touch. This was nowhere near what you’d imagined when you first walked ins that kitchen, but now, it was everything you craved.

“Give me your hand.” You asked, extending your own in his direction.

His hand found yours midway as he directed his attention to your fingers. You weren’t too sure whether he’d catch your drift or not, but it was worth a try. With your index, you traced the inside of his palm in a straight line, pressing firmly at the end of it before repeating the same gesture from the top. Not too gentle, but not too rough either. Just how you wanted to be touched.

In the same manner your finger brushed his skin, his flattened tongue came to glide over your slit only to stop short at your clit, following the same route all over again. For a second time, you sighed, your arousal gradually building with each stroke. The familiarity between you allowed no room for mistakes; he knew exactly what you needed.

“You taste better than any damn cake in this world.” Takasugi commented for the first time in a while, closing his lips over your clit.

“D-don’t insult our cake!” You felt him smirk at your objection, his teeth barely grazing over your sensitive spot, be it enough to make you moan.

“Want me to go a bit harder?” He asked, lazily swirling over your clit.

“I suppose you can.” You answered, hiding your embarrassment behind a pout. Years later and his effect on you had not worn off.

Lacing his fingers with yours, Takasugi began to follow a pattern of his own, the kind to set all your pretty sounds free. With his one hand rubbing at your thigh, he made sure you got to watch your clit disappear into his mouth, each kiss of his leaving it wetter than the previous one.

“F-fuck…”

You could feel every bump of his tongue massage your cluster of nerves, the warmth of his mouth making it feel as if he was attempting to rekindle a fire in you, one that had all but been extinguished. He wanted you to burn, just so he could burn with you. Just so you could feel every single emotion his tongue failed to describe engraved upon your body.

In no time, he had you moaning nothing but the sound of his name, occasionally no more than the sharp consonants of his initials coming out. It felt so good. Too good. He kept flicking and curling, while you kept tossing and turning, your hips squirming away while your fingers gripped closer, at his fingers, at his hair, anywhere you could find, anywhere you could anchor in.

Muffled sounds mixed in with your cries, as Takasugi kept gushing over you, his saliva and your fluids streaming down your throbbing holes. But the lewd sound of your squelching under his tongue, came only second to the far more obscene expression of his face. He looked so messed up, with his disheveled hair and bandages dropping over his forehead. So messed up that part of you couldn’t help but want to mess him up even further.

You weren’t even thinking straight anymore. Your judgment was completely clouded by primal instincts and sheer pleasure. All you knew was that you wanted him, that you’d spent every breathing moment of your life wanting and yearning for him, even when he’d always been by your side. You wanted to never let go, you wanted to become one with him. Now, and forever.

Your grip on his hair relaxed enough for you to push a loose strip of bandage that blocked his vision behind his ear. He hummed in response, his gratitude pouring in the way his hand held yours ever so lovingly. You tried your best to keep your gaze fixed on his, though the second he slid in one of his fingers, you had no choice but to fall back, your hips solely jerking forward.

You cursed again and again, until no word that made sense came out of your mouth, until the room began to spin, the bright kitchen lights and the buzzing of a bell filled in the void of your eyes. Briefly, you felt him pull out of you, his lips insisting on placing a series of tender kisses along your opening and thighs as if he were the one thanking you.

“Y/N.” The hoarse sound of your name fell on deaf ears. You were too preoccupied with your own bliss to answer him.

“Aren’t you going to get that?” He went on.

“Get… that?” Unwillingly you opened your eyes, completely clueless over what he was talking about.

The ringing had all but ceased inside your head, when you realized it had nothing to do with your orgasm. The cake!

In an instant, you flew to the other side of the kitchen, one hand attempting to piece your outfit together, while the other fumbled around the oven’s buttons. Were you a minute late, the cake would’ve gotten burnt to a crisp, and your entire struggle would’ve been over nothing.

“Couldn’t you handle it?” You protested, throwing a punch in the air as he approached you.

“Hmm? I don’t recall receiving such command.” He smirked, capturing each of your fists in his own before they got the chance to land.

“You!” You grunted and he grinned, finding your annoyed expression infinitely amusing, though perhaps, the funniest thing about this scene was the way a half-naked woman retaliated against him in the middle of a kitchen floor.

Maybe if you saw things from that perspective, you’d also be laughing, but for now, all you were was severely distracted and unsure of how to proceed. Your mind kept telling you to get things in order and finish with your cake’s assembly, while another less prim and proper part of you, kept urging you to jump his bones on the spot. Curse you, Takasugi Shinsuke and your stupidly stupid smile.

“Shall we wrap things up, or will you insist on attacking me?” He asked, his chin still glistening with your juices.

“…Get yourself cleaned up first.” You pulled your hands off him in defeat. There was no point of keeping this up.

After the two of you went back to appearing somewhat presentable, you explained how the cake needed some time to cool down, and how in the meantime, you could prepare additional toppings, such as those strawberries you’d previously located in the refrigerator.

Surprisingly enough, he seemed eager enough to assist without you having to ask. Where knives were involved, he found himself right in his element.

In no time, Takasugi made quick work of the strawberries, slicing them into smaller pieces, while all there was left for you to do was gawk at his broad shoulders. He seemed so focused, that even when you paraded back and forth, even when you forced a dry cough here and there, he paid no mind. Just what were you doing?

“What are you doing?” He read through your mind.

No answer could justify your actions. It was because of you that he’d found himself in this situation, but it was because of him that the insistent sensation between your legs wouldn’t go away. If your thoughts were that easy for him to read, then he’d know firsthand of how you felt right now.

His fingers had no reason to be busied with cutlery and fruit. They belonged around your hips, holding you down, lest you arch your back too high.

Be it against the counter, the table, the floor, or even the sink, you longed to see that familiar glint in his eye, the one he only showed when sheathed deep within your heat. You wanted the only sound in the room to be that of his husky breathing evolving to a singular growl right before he spilled in your guts.

If he could really read your mind, he’d know of all that. He’d know of how much you wanted him and how maddening that was. Screw Yato women, what were you supposed to do about your own frustration?

“You know, we’ll probably be in here a while longer.” You suggested, moving up behind him.

“And?” Amusement dripped of his voice as you rest your chin upon his shoulder.

“And we could have some more fun to ourselves.” Your arms looped around his exposed chest. “We’ve never done it in here before.”

Despite him continuously driving the knife down the cutting board, his pace had slowed down. He could act disinterested all he wanted, but his actions suggested otherwise.

“And?”

“And,” you lowered your hands round his nether area, elated to feel his hardened cock poking at your fingertips. “I can tell I’m not the only one excited by the prospect.”

“And?” He hummed, having let go of the knife.

“And I’m sick of playing games.” Your lips tugged at his earlobe, while you kept on palming him.

“Weren’t you the one who wanted to play house?”

“I was,” you admitted, “but now, I want you.”

“You grow more shameless with each year.” He accused, flaunting the kind of smirk you wanted to bite right off his lips.

“Can you blame me?”

“I guess not.”

One step was all it took for you to be pressed against the counter, the soft sensation of his mouth overriding the sharp edges of the drawers. It felt uncomfortable and rushed, but you couldn’t care less. The way his tongue wet over your bottom lip was enough to soothe the pain, enough to quell the thirst you had for him.

It’d always been like this. Every time Takasugi kissed you, you were brought back to that moonless summer night by the coastline, the place where you’d first gotten taste of each other. It felt as desperate as the sea’s foam clinging to the shore, and as certain as the promise of the incoming tide, liberating and drowning you all at once.

Deft fingers came digging at your waist, barely undoing each garment for him to ravish what was rightfully his. You helped him remove the kimono, though when it came to the apron, he didn’t allow for you to take it off. He loved the sight of you in it, but more importantly, he loved the fantasy of normality that came along, the manifestation of what your lives could have been.

Enveloped in his warm embrace, you took the opportunity to run your fingers over his skin, trailing them down his chest, his abdomen, and eventually, his crotch. He’d been in such hurry to leave that he’d neglected to wear an underwear. It was a wonder he’d never gotten arrested for public indecency, you mentally chuckled, wrapping your fingers around his shaft and then slowly pumping him.

A hand caressed your own, before moving onto your chest, drawing a tit outside the apron’s coverage. His hot breath replaced his fingers as he dipped forward, sucking your nipple right into his mouth. The sensation made your grip tighten, inducing a soft sigh to fall against your skin. He glanced at you, the green in his eye hazy while he moved higher to leave his mark, making sure that today would be more than just a memory to reminisce.

You dragged him closer, driving his cock to your slicked entrance. Playing around was nice, but definitely not as nice as being filled, a sentiment he seemed to share.

Takasugi placed his hands below your thighs, giving you little time to react when he lifted you up. You gasped, quickly knitting your fingers behind his neck to support yourself, while he held you close, shoving your hips together.

“Where to?” He rasped in between heavy breathing.

“Right here.” The second you gave your answer, you pressed your lips against his, unwilling to stray from his touch any longer.

With great care, he sat you atop the counter, his palms prompting your legs to dangle over the edge for him to position himself. You backed away ever so slightly, keen on watching his thumb continuously swipe over the head and your clit up until he allowed your lips to swallow him. You bit a moan back and he smiled, slowly pushing deeper, replacing your neediness with ecstatic pleasure.

“This is much better than Master Sword 69.” You jested, forcing him to shush you with his mouth, lest he let himself laugh at such a horrid joke.

You felt his tongue roll around yours in sync with his hips, the firm sensation of his pubic bone pressuring your clit whenever he slammed his cock inside. You moaned, nibbling at his lips while he grunted, digging his fingers at your hips to push you further against his thrusts. You loved it when he handled you like that, though you both knew he wouldn’t last much at this pace.

Eventually he slowed down, resorting to merely sheathing himself within your folds. He was already throbbing, his seed begging to spill inside your womb. You rocked your hips a tiny bit and he pulled away halfway before sinking back in, unable to truly part from you. Panted breaths mixed in with soft chuckles, the two of you finding great amusement in how naturally your bodies were drawn together, palpitating with desire.

“I can’t believe I’m yours.” You breathed, ghosting your lips over his. “Even after all these years, I can’t believe I was fortunate enough to have met you.”

“Hopefully you got your money’s worth.” He smirked.

“You make it sound as if you are a prostitute.”

Takasugi rolled his eye, returning his attention to your lower half. Even when he was balls deep inside, you couldn’t help but poke fun at him. Getting on his nerves never got old.

Faster than before, his hips snapped against yours, as if he was trying to fuck you into becoming less of a vixen. You paid no mind to that, fully enjoying the way his cock rammed in your sweet spot, until all of a sudden, sharp pain had you yelping. He stopped, a look of concern spreading to his features while you rubbed at the back of your skull. He’d gone so hard that you’d banged your head against the cabinet.

“So clumsy.” He mumbled, guising his mistake as yours.

You were about to complain when he started moving again, only this time, rather than feeling the cold metal boring into your head, you only felt the softness of his palm shielding you from harm.

“Shut up.” He hushed before you had the chance to say a single word.

Not that you really could, either. With how hard he pounded you, the only sounds you could make were whimpers, little by little being driven over the edge.

Stars still flickered past your shut eyelids as you used your last bit of energy to embrace him, propping your chin upon your arm. His hands searched for support against the counter while he began to fall out of rhythm, his thrusts leading to him cumming deep within your walls.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N.” He was still throbbing as he said those three little words, words you never knew how much you longed to hear.

All these birthdays had gone by without a single gift or wish, but even if you could receive any gift, even if you could make any wish, you’d still choose him, you’d still wish for only him. In the end, all those forgotten gifts and wishes amounted to nothing. What was most important to you was right there in your arms. The most precious thing in life, your partner, your lover, your…family.

“Can you keep being my gift?” You asked, nuzzling in his shoulder. “Next year, and the year after that, can I keep asking for you?”

Takasugi spared no answer. Not because he didn’t want to, but because part of him knew there was always a possibility that the very first birthday you’d spent together might as well be the last he’d ever get to celebrate with you. And so he said nothing, choosing to splay his hands over your lower back in a tender motion.

“I don’t want anything other than you. There’s no one else I’d rather share such moments with, so can you please keep on being my present?” You insisted, demanding for a lie he was not too keen on giving.

A sigh heaved up his chest as he slowly moved away from you. “Quit being this mushy.” He mumbled, turning around.

Part of his cum poured down your thighs as you propped yourself against the counter.

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. Maybe you shouldn’t make him commit to a promise he’d be unable to honor, but then again you had a hard time holding back when you loved him this much. The mere idea of spending a birthday on your own gave you goosebumps. It had to be with him. No matter what, he had to be there.

Takasugi returned a minute later with a couple of paper towels in hand. He took in your sour expression, realizing you probably took this short time to reflect upon the future, one you weren’t guaranteed to share.

“You’re such a mess.” He sank to his knees, gently cleaning after the mess he made between your legs.

“As long as I can help it, I promise.”

Following the rather eventful time you spent inside the kitchen, you’d made sure not to leave any traces of your little adventure behind, while he’d made sure to remind you of how easy it’d been for him to claim the key. You didn’t even notice he’d taken it from you until it was time to head out. That sly piece of…

But, you couldn’t complain. Not about his mocking, and not about his refusal to help clean either. The cake turned to be a great success, both in taste and appearance, and you could now finally reap your rewards in the comfort of his bedroom. Bit by bit the platter emptied with only about half the dessert remaining. You hadn’t eaten a single thing all day long, and the unscheduled ‘work-out’ had taken its toll on your poor legs.

Once the two of you finished eating, Takasugi brought forth his shamisen to tune it, while you fished out a piece of paper and a pen to write Sakamoto a letter. There was so much you wanted to tell him. About your trips, the Kiheitai, and of course, about Takasugi.

Outside your letters, Sakamoto never got to hear a word about or from his old friend. You’d seen Takasugi scribble some words, but they never reached his ears. All were torn into confetti.

You knew how much he missed the past. How deep his longing to meet with his friends again ran within his heart and how hard it was for him to express his innermost feelings. You knew all that, and although there was nothing you could do in order to help bridge the gap, letting Sakamoto know of his friend’s well-being wouldn’t harm. Behind his back, or not.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked without lifting head from his instrument.

“Nothing in particular. Just disproving some false claims.” You hid a dry cough behind your fist as you begun to read. “Dear Tatsuma, all’s well here, thanks for asking. I hope your business keeps expanding and you don’t get thrown out in space by Mutsu again. Your gift brought me great joy, but don’t assume I’ll let you win that easily. P.S. Don’t underestimate Shinsuke. He is an incredible lover and really great at-”

Before you could finish reading the supposed letter, Takasugi grabbed it from within your grasp, only to scoff at the lack of ink.

“You are incorrigible” He returned the paper to the table while you chuckled, earning yourself another of his infamous glares.

Rather than picking up the pen, you opted for the spoon, digging back in the remaining piece you’d left in your plate. “It’s true though. You really are an incredible lover and great at cooking.” You swallowed. “You know, it’s not too late to change career, Shinsuke.”

He shrugged, tightening and then striking one of the strings. “I’ll consider leaving the world with just a stove.”

“So what did you think of today? What was it like to make something from scratch?”

“Harder than watching Zura make onigiri.”

You laughed and he smiled just a little bit, the sound of his playing as mellow as his features.

“You’d rather just sit back and watch?”

He nodded, first setting his tuner and then his shamisen to the side. An invitation for you to scoot closer, one that you gracefully accepted by laying your head against his shoulder. For someone who lifted such a heavy burden, he surely felt lightweight as a pillow.

“Let’s just say I wouldn’t mind seeing you in an apron more often.” Takasugi said, picking up his own plate. He was never big on sweets, but he’d at the very least eaten half of what you’d served.

“Makes you resemble a proper housewife.” He smirked after shoving a bite.

“Calling me a housewife when you haven’t even put a ring on my finger.”

Your joke failed to land any chuckles apart from your own. If anything, it had the opposite effect on him, with his expression instantly turning sour.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that-”

“Except you did.” He sighed, dropping the plate along with the spoon back on the table, while you sat up to look at him.

“Y/N, I’ve halfed-assed many things in life, us included. Years later, and I still don’t know how to do this properly. But what I do know is that when we share a bed together, when we share what little’s left of our souls with one another, when we share a life, then that makes us as good as married, does it not?”

At the sound of his words, you felt your cheeks radiating with heat. How could he speak in such nonchalant way? He’d never called you so much as a girlfriend or a partner, and now went around addressing you as a wife? His wife?

“What? Scared to be called a terrorist’s wife?” Takasugi taunted.

“Terrorist? What terrorist?” You brought a hand onto your forehead, pretending to look around. “I see nothing but a samurai, and that would make me into a samurai’s wife.”

Your answer seemed to satisfy him enough to crack a smile, one that you eagerly returned.

“An idiot, a terrorist, and a samurai. I’ve been called all three in just one day.” He absently trailed over your fingers with his own.

“Only an idiotic samurai could ever turn to terrorism. To me, Shinsuke, you are the same boy I met back then. The one who’s unafraid to raise his sword in the name of a lost cause.”

You meant to assure him, but he only ended up snickering in amusement.

“I really haven’t changed, have I?”

“Not at all.” You expressed with a nod of your head. “But If I may say so myself, you’ve gotten a tad grumpier. It’s as if your grumpiness increases with each passing year.”

His amusement turned to irritation in a moment’s notice, though that did not dishearten you from making further comments. It was always amusing to see how far his tolerance would reach, but when he finally boiled over, your sounds turned muffled.

“Shut up and eat the damn cake already.” Takasugi huffed, having shoved a spoonful of cake in between your parted lips.

Once he felt you swallowing, he pulled his hand away, only for your mouth to follow it, seeking to be fed again. He glared and you insisted, drawing out a long ‘A’ sound until he caved in.

“Such a lousy wife.”

The next morning found you alone in bed, with Takasugi having seemingly disappeared from your side. This was hardly unlike him. Come morning light, he always had this tendency of running off with Bansai, handling the kind of issues you failed to wrap your head around. Can’t be helped.

Your eyes shut once more, refusing to open up just yet. It was so early and there was nothing for you to do, other than to spend another dull day in space. Or at least, that’s what you thought until you stretched your hand onto the pillow beside you, your fingers meeting with the cold roundness of a foreign object; a ring of gold.

“Such a lousy husband.” You exclaimed with a smile brighter than the sun itself.