#his name is miso but we shall call him

[scotty-nobody]

I am getting kitty!!!

[magicshopaholic]

A Night of Firsts

Summary: Yoongi spends the night in the studio with the last person he wants to be with. Seokjin prepares for an important dinner.

Pairing: Seokjin x OC, Yoongi x OC (different OCs)

Genre: Best friends, coworkers; mild humour, banter, awkwardness, tension, angst

Word count: 12.8 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, alcohol, smoking, mentions of pregnancy and sex

A/N: Tried something here (read: this isn't regular angst; it's cool angst). Takes place a couple of months after New Year’s Eve Eve. Banner by the lovely @hobeemin - thank you, Beezy <3

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive @faearchives @margopinkerton @dreaming-with-happiness @confessionsofamarshlily @purpleseoul7

Listen to: "black sun" by death cab for cutie

seokjin masterlist | yoongi masterlist | main masterlist

“That was good.”

Yoongi’s voice takes on an encouraging lilt that sounds rather unfamiliar - to Miso at least. She turns and gives him a blank look, just enough to convey her acknowledgement of his tone.  

The young idol in the recording booth stutters a thank you, while Yoongi returns Miso’s glance with a slight raise of the eyebrows.

Miso struggles not to roll her eyes and speaks into the mic, pausing the track. “Yeah - but try it again, a little calmer and relaxed this time?”

The idol - his name escapes her - nods and repeats the line, his clear soprano ringing through the speakers. “How was that?” he asks expectantly.

She forces a smile onto her face with remarkable ease. “So good.” Keeping the expression frozen on her face, she turns off the mic and tilts her head towards Yoongi. “You see that was exactly the same as before, right?” she mutters.

Yoongi purses his lips to suppress a smile; once in a while, when Miso’s snark and sarcasm isn’t directed at him, she can actually be funny.

“He just needs some time,” he replies and turns on the mic again. “That was better, Jungwon,” he says to the idol, whose eyes seem to mist over at the compliment. “Let’s do one more take for comparison. This time, can you go a little higher at the end? It’ll sound more playful, natural. Yeah? Okay, let’s go.”

Jungwon sings the same line again, and even Miso can’t help but raise her eyebrows at the improvement. 

“Damn,” she mutters, giving him a thumbs up from behind the plexiglass. “What superpower is that?”

“Practical feedback,” supplies Yoongi, giving Jungwon a rare smile of approval. “You tell them what to do instead of what you want. Makes a world of difference.”

“Huh.” Miso nods, apparently impressed. “Guess it’s a good thing I got assigned to you. You may have a lot to teach me.”

“I don’t think this assignment is going to last that long,” he quips, giving her an innocent shrug as she smiles widely in response to his sarcasm.

“Um, hyung,” stutters Jungwon from inside. “I’m - I’m getting a call from my manager, so can I - can I -”

“Yeah, of course.” Yoongi shakes his head slightly as the door to the studio swings shut. “He needs to relax,” he mutters.

“That was the feedback I gave him. Wasn’t applicable enough, apparently,” adds Miso, swinging slightly in her chair. “Shall we listen to what we have so far?”

Yoongi motions for her to play it and leans back in his swivelling chair, crossing his fingers on his stomach and closing his eyes. The audio plays, nearly three hours worth of Jungwon’s hard work and almost a day’s of their own in production. Miso is equally silent until the track ends and for a few moments after, until Yoongi winces slightly.

“It’s not our best work,” he admits, sighing. “Maybe it’ll be better once we get that bridge arrangement from Donghyuk. He should send it over in a bit.”

“Can’t we just ask him how long it’ll take?” she asks, already reaching for her phone. “If it’s going to take all night, the least we can do is get some sleep before working on it in the morning.” She sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “God, I hope it takes all night.”

“You would think,” he says, stretching and rolling his chair closer to the controls, “but we need to mix the whole thing tonight. Marketing wants a sample in the morning so they can decide whether or not it can go in the soundtrack package of the group’s video game.”

Miso is quiet for a moment. “In that case, it can’t get done fast enough. I’m going to go next door and follow up with Donghyuk.” 

“Be my guest,” he mutters, putting on a pair of headphones.

She’s about to leave when she stops and turns, the door half open. “Maybe we can sweet talk Marketing into giving us an extension. What was that manager’s name again? Seulgi?”

—

“Wait, what’s his girlfriend’s name again? Seulgi?”

Nari shrugs noncommittally as the elevator pings and opens up on Seokjin’s floor. They step out into the dim lighting, Nari’s heart jerking uncomfortably with every beat. The closer she gets to this dinner, the more it feels like a terrible idea. 

But Seokjin proposed it - a double date - and she had no choice, especially when he offered it at a high school reunion, surrounded by their hometown and their old friends. It was Seokjin’s way of extending an olive branch. That far away from their everyday lives, it felt easier to talk to each other again, even forget for a moment how messed up everything was between them. It was a glimpse of their old friendship and Nari did what was necessary to hold on to it, which included saying yes to dinner with Seokjin and his new girlfriend.

A few feet away from his apartment, she halts. “Jason,” she begins, turning to him. Tall and freshly showered, in a black button-down with the sleeves folded halfway up his forearms, it occurs to her suddenly just how much she owes him for accompanying her tonight.

He tilts his head slightly. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just… thank you for this. I know it’s probably a little awkward because it’s technically a double date and you and I aren’t…” She trails off and is relieved to see him shrug easily. “But I’m glad you’re here. I owe you.” She doesn’t know how to word the fact that she’s glad there will be one person in her corner tonight, but from the knowing nod he gives her, he might just know.

Jason squints for a moment and pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “It’s no big deal. Honestly, from what you’re telling me, I may be the only person for whom this night won’t be awkward,” he points out. “And besides, anything to get out of the hospital tonight. If I have to listen to Heejin brag one more time about the cool bone graft surgery she stole from me, I might throw a shoe at her head.”

Nari pauses. “So… you’re saying I’m doing you a favour as much as you’re doing me one?”

“Probably not as big, but, yeah.”

“Works for me.” Exhaling and forcing a smile, she begins walking again, this time not stopping until she’s actually in front of Seokjin’s door. She rings the doorbell, when Jason suddenly swears under his breath. “What?”

“Damn it, I forgot my inhaler in the car.” He pats his pockets. “I’ll be back in one minute, okay?” Patting her shoulder and ignoring her frantic shaking of the head, he jogs down the corridor and presses the elevator button, stepping in just as the front door opens.

“Hey.” Seokjin gives her a small smile and steps aside, motioning for her to enter. Nari steps inside, the familiarity of the hall making her nervous. “Where’s Jason?”

“Um, he forgot something in the car. He should be up in a minute.”

“Oh. Okay.” Seokjin shuts the door, their shoulders brushing momentarily. He’s in black, too, the collar of his shirt open and the hollow of his neck exposed. He’s in slacks, though, and barefoot, something oddly and heartbreakingly domestic about it.

Nari slips off her shoes and follows him inside, somewhat regretting her decision to wear make-up tonight and trying to remember the last time she was in this house. It looks exactly the same, except for minor differences. She sets her bag inside by one of the chairs and is about to sit on the sofa out of habit, but stops herself at the last minute.

“This is for you,” she says, suddenly remembering. Retrieving a bottle of red wine from her tote bag, she hands it to him.

“Wow, thank you.” Seokjin nods and briefly skims the label. “That’s really nice.” He walks over to the open kitchen and places the bottle on the island where plates, cutlery and napkins are neatly stacked, ready for use. Pausing, he turns to her again.

“Do you want a drink?”

“I’m on call.”

Seokjin falls silent and nods. It occurs to Nari that he may have wanted a drink, but was trying to be polite. She considers asking for a glass of wine anyway when he speaks.

“Is Jason alright?”

“What? Yeah, I guess.” She shrugs. “We parked a little way down the street. Where’s, uh…”

Seokjin’s eyes shutter over slightly. “Seulgi.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Stuck in traffic. She should be here any minute.”

Silence again. Nari half-wishes she’d declined this dinner - or accepted the drink. Neither of those options would even come close to fixing anything, but they might have made this particular moment less unpleasant or completely non-existent.

“Thanks for coming.” Seokjin tries again. “I was a little afraid you might decide not to.”

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

There’s a moment where they hold each other’s gaze and she thinks he’s about to retort. She almost wants him to, not wanting to be the only one making this night uncomfortable. But then he simply nods once and looks away, slipping his hands in his pocket.

Nari swallows, already feeling a trickle of shame creeping up her throat at that jab. “The food smells great,” she ventures, and the smell wafting from the kitchen instantly seems stronger.

Seokjin cracks a smile. “Thanks. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, definitely. Kind of skipped lunch, so…”

He looks like he’s about to ask, but visibly changes tacks. “It’s bulgogi and japchae,” he states.

“Sounds good.” The awkward silence this time feels like a physical attack so she continues with reckless abandon. “By the way, you didn’t - you didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” she stammers, gesturing to the kitchen. “We could’ve just ordered in.”

“Oh, it was no problem,” he says immediately, shaking his head. “Unless… do you want to order in? We - we can, if you want -”

“No, no, of course not -”

“It’s really okay -”

Mercifully, the doorbell rings just then and both Seokjin and Nari break off abruptly. Exchanging a gaze of pure panic and a mutual relief, Seokjin moves past her to get to the door.

—

Meanwhile, Yoongi is hanging on to his last vestiges of patience. 

“Jungwon,” he says deliberately into the mic, “it’s not a contest. Okay? It’s a song about freedom. You’re not a trainee anymore and you’re not going to get cut at the end of the night.” Giving him an encouraging nod, he takes his finger off the button and sits back in the chair. 

“Trainwreck,” mutters Miso, sounding as annoyed as he feels. 

“Don’t,” he warns her quietly. “We can’t have him getting discouraged right now. He needs to finish recording this tonight.”

“Discouraged?” She frowns at him, looking slightly incredulous. “I think we passed discouraged a while ago. He looks like he’s about to burst into tears. You have maybe… twenty minutes before that bomb goes off.”

She’s right, Yoongi realises with some dread. “Jungwon!” he calls into the mic. “You’re doing great!”

Next to him, Miso snorts. “Dude, that convinced no one.”

“Not helping,” he hisses. “You know what, Jungwon? Take five. Go get a coffee and come back, and we’ll take it from the top.”

The young idol lowers his head, looking crestfallen, and slowly trudges out of the studio. 

Yoongi watches him leave before turning to Miso. “You know, you could try and help him through this.”

She raises her eyebrows. “And what is this exactly?”

“The - the process. Encourage him a little bit, make him feel like he belongs here. He’s just a kid.”

“A - he’s twenty-two,” she corrects him, looking unimpressed. “And I’m sorry, okay? I’m not his therapist - it’s not my job to hold his hand. My job was to mix the instrumentals and come up with a complete arrangement, which is what I spent all day doing,” she reminds him. “I gave you six options and at least one of them is decent.”

Unfortunately, Yoongi cannot argue with this, for she did provide him with a range of choices for the final mixing session. They’re better than decent; in fact, he’s having trouble choosing between two of them. She’s not a prodigy, but she’s talented - and is coming alarmingly close to churning out the kind of music he genuinely approves of.

But he isn’t about to admit any of this to her. Compliments with Miso are like navigating a field of landmines: take one wrong step and the dynamic between them is instantly changed.

“Working with the singer is also part of this job,” he tells her instead. “So is encouraging them and getting the best out of them. Or they’ll do a subpar job of it and your precious arrangements won’t matter because the finished song will suck.”

Miso sighs. “Fine. Let him come back and I’ll try to coddle him through the process. Just… stop pretending he’s a child.”

“You have no idea what he’s had to go through to get here,” he argues. “He was a trainee for four years. It’s absolute hell. The ones who are lucky enough to debut come out with more armour than you’ll know.”

“Seriously? Armour?”

Yoongi doesn’t respond, his cheeks heating up slightly. It’s something he never realised he did, saying things that sounded more dramatic than he intended. But Miso noticed, and picked up on it. It was one of many quirks in each other that they noted and leveraged, and this one annoyed him just as much as the others.

“Yes, armour,” he repeats, opening up one of Miso’s arrangement files from earlier today.

“Is it armour that’s keeping him here -” She checks her phone, “- three hours longer than he was meant to be?”

“It is, actually. It’s called hard work and sacrifice.”

The insult in his tone doesn’t escape her. “And obviously, I have no concept of either of those things,” she says sarcastically.

“Your words, not mine.”

“So that is what you’re saying.”

Yoongi finally turns to her, giving her a look. “Wasn’t that a limited edition Range Rover I saw dropping you off this morning?”

It’s Miso’s turn to flush, but she doesn’t look away. “I fail to see what business that is of yours,” she says coldly.

“People who get dropped off to work in their father’s fancy cars aren’t known for things like sacrifice, is all.” He adjusts a few settings and plays the track again but at low volume. It’s the third option Miso sent him earlier today; he overlays the audio on it and they listen to Jungwon’s latest attempt.

They’re silent for a minute and a half while the music plays, possibly the longest ninety seconds of Yoongi’s life.

“Well,” says Miso finally, when the track ends abruptly, “I think that’s enough sacrifice for one night. I think I need a smoke. You know, to let all of that armoured talent wash over my privileged self,” she adds dryly, getting up. “If you can take a break from Jungwon’s masterpiece for a minute, you’re welcome to join me.”

Yoongi doesn’t answer her, staring sullenly at the rubbish recording they have so far. It’s going to be a long night, and his options right now are attempting to salvage a second-rate audio sample or hanging out one on one with Kang Miso.

The answer comes surprisingly simply to him.

“Hey, wait up,” he says a moment later, pushing his chair back and standing up, feeling his knees stretch. “I could use a smoke, too.”

—

It’s only been an hour and yet, it feels like one of the longest nights of Seokjin’s life. He can’t tell exactly what’s wrong, though - other than everything. 

Seulgi and Jason arrived together, giving him and Nari some respite from the painful awkwardness that seems to have replaced two decades of friendship. After the initial ten minutes which consisted of introductions, typical small talk and serving of drinks, he was forced to acknowledge the lack of talking points in common between two doctors and two people in entertainment.

Jason, for his part, seems to be the only person keeping the conversation going with ease. Seokjin suspects Nari would have filled him in somewhat on the situation, but he can’t imagine what she would have said exactly. My best friend that you met that I slept with and told my mom was a no-go from the dating angle but still asked if he had feelings for me and got upset when he lied and then had a pregnancy scare with followed by months of tense conversation is inviting us to dinner with the girlfriend he met when he was supposed to meet me at a party?

It seems far too wordy, even for Nari. She seems to be cordial enough to Seulgi, though, whom Seokjin can’t thank enough for being so graceful even after a long day of arguing with producers, only to end the day having dinner with her boyfriend and the best friend he hooked up with.

“Oh, Jason,” she says, after a brief recalling of the discussion she had earlier today with Yoongi and his abrasive assistant producer, “your glass is empty. Do you want a refill?”

“Sure, thanks,” he replies, smiling and moving to stand up from his place on the sofa. But Seulgi motions for him to stay, already gliding towards the kitchen island where the opened bottle of wine is placed and bringing it back. “Thank you,” he repeats when she pours him a generous serving.

“You’re welcome. Nari?” She looks over at Nari, who’s said about eight words in the last hour. “Are you sure I can’t get you a drink? Even a small one?”

Nari pauses for a moment before answering, her facial muscles moving in what could be the beginning of a forced smile, but doesn’t reach all the way. “Like I said, I’m on call,” she says. Then, in a slightly lower voice, she adds, “Just like I was twenty minutes ago.”

Seulgi pokes her tongue into her cheek and her gaze falls slightly. She looks like she’s about to say something but finally decides not to, straightening up and placing the bottle on a coaster on the coffee table. 

Seokjin stares at Nari. “It can be non-alcoholic. Ginger ale or… lemonade or something?”

She gives him the briefest of glances. “I’m really okay.”

There’s another terse silence during which Seokjin resists the urge to close his eyes and sigh. He stares into his own glass of wine, the same one he’d started the night with. Much as he’d like to drown his annoyance in alcohol, he’s honestly a little afraid of what he might say if he drinks too much, and the last thing he needs is for this night to become any more uncomfortable.

“Uh, Seokjin,” begins Jason, making him look up. “Nari tells me you cook. The food smells great, by the way.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s true,” he responds, nodding a little too hard. “In fact - shall we eat? If everyone’s hungry?”

There’s an awkward chorus of yeses and of courses as everyone gets to their feet and shuffles towards the dining table, a simple and elegant eight-seater adjacent to the kitchen. Seokjin stops at the kitchen and begins gathering the various serving dishes when someone approaches him.

“Need a hand?” Jason offers good-naturedly.

“Uh… yeah, sure. Thanks.”

They begin assembling cutlery and Seokjin turns on the stove for a few seconds to heat the food. It occurs to him that Nari and Seulgi are alone at the table; it makes him vaguely anxious.

Almost as if Jason is reading his mind, he speaks, forcing Seokjin out of his reverie.

“By the way, thanks for having us over.” He waits until Seokjin looks at him. “Obviously, the food looks amazing and… Seulgi seems great.”

“Thanks.” Seokjin nods, feeling an unexpected gratitude towards him. “She is. And… glad you guys could make it. I know you work a lot.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Nari’s best friend, right?” He half-chuckles, sounding a bit uncomfortable now. “Also, she’s not… she - she’s been working really long hours lately. Lost a patient yesterday… I’m guessing she hasn’t got a lot of sleep.”

It takes Seokjin a moment to realise this information is meant to be an explanation for Nari’s behaviour tonight, meaning he isn’t imagining it. He turns off the stove but doesn’t move, wondering how he’s supposed to respond to this. He gives Jason a sideways glance.

When he’d invited Nari to dinner, he hadn’t quite known what the status of her relationship with Jason was. In an effort to not pry, he’d simply said you can bring Jason, too, if you want. Evidently, she did, and while Seokjin can’t help but be glad about it, it still gives him no indication as to whether they’re actually together, although it seems fairly likely.

He wonders if he’ll ever be able to ask Nari about it, before remembering it’s none of his business.

Seokjin clears his throat. “It’s… it’s okay. I get it.”

Jason nods, looking rather like he wants to ask something but apparently thinks the better of it. “Nice shirt,” he remarks, a joking lilt to his tone.

Seokjin looks down to look at his black shirt before noticing Jason wearing the exact same thing. He cracks a smile, a real smile, and his face feels slightly better.

“You, too.”

When they arrive at the table, it’s to see Nari and Seulgi on opposite seats at the table, the head left conspicuously vacant. Nari is on her phone, while Seulgi seems to be nursing what’s left of her drink, gulping down the last sip when she sees him and Jason.

“Oh, thank God! I mean… looks great.”

Seokjin catches her eye and they share a look of amusement at her slip of tongue. He and Jason set the food on the table and take their seats next to their respective dates. 

“I think we can serve ourselves,” says Seulgi, picking up the bowl of beef and offering it to Jason. “Nari, do you want to start with the meat?”

“I’ll start with the noodles,” she says instead, barely looking at Seulgi and reaching straight for the bowl filled to the brim with noodles.

“I’ll have the meat,” murmurs Seokjin, taking the bowl from his girlfriend. He touches her hand meaningfully as she passes it to him and ladles some into her bowl before moving to his own.

Everyone serves themselves in relative silence, with only mutters about passing dishes around. 

“Oh, wow!” Jason exclaims and everyone jumps slightly. He points enthusiastically to the food with his chopsticks and nods at Seokjin appreciatively. “This is excellent.”

Seokjin smiles back and nods. “Thanks, I’m glad you like it. Are the scallions chopped appropriately this time?” he asks Seulgi, a little teasingly, referring to an inside joke.

She laughs and pats his shoulder. “They’re perfect.”

He grins and looks diagonally across at Nari, who’s sweeping a mouthful of japchae into her mouth. “Nari?” he prompts after a moment.

Nari waits to swallow before looking up at him, her face slowly relaxing into the first genuine smile of the night. “It’s really good,” she agrees softly.

His chest suddenly feeling lighter, Seokjin smiles back and nods. Maybe Jason was right - maybe she was actually just tired and hungry, for now that she’s eating, she seems to be marginally more participative. It’s still Seulgi and Jason carrying the conversation like champions, with Seokjin joining in occasionally, but Nari is at least listening and chuckling on cue, which is a decided improvement from where they began.

Maybe it’s his imagination, but the entire mood of the night improves after that. Jason seems relieved as well; he responds to Nari encouragingly and - Seokjin notes with a twinge of envy he didn’t expect - with an indulgence that can only come with extensive familiarity.

In theory, it increases the likelihood of them being a couple. However - and Seokjin has absolutely no way to back this up except that he knows Nari - he doesn’t think they actually are together. There’s smiling, quiet laughing, shared looks and amused nodding, all of which could indicate a relationship but could also be signs of a really good friendship, for weren’t all of these things that he and Nari did as well, for years?

“Hey.” Seulgi nudges him. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” he says immediately, squeezing her knee. He tries not to read too much into the lingering look she gives him before turning away, and resolves to focus on more appropriate topics.

It works for a while; Jason tells them all about a fellow resident who irritates the life out of him, complete with a mimicry of her which, if Nari’s reaction is anything to go by, is completely accurate.

“She sounds like a nightmare,” comments Seulgi, shaking her head sympathetically.

“She’s actually not that bad,” disagrees Nari, slapping Jason’s shoulder lightly. “You made her look bad in the skills lab last week when she was just trying to ask a question.”

“And I apologised,” he reminds her. “I let her get a full night’s sleep, even when the ER was flooded with all those pesky, cool surgeries,” he adds with a straight face.

Nari snorts while Seokjin lets out a low whistle. “Wow. You guys are cutthroat.”

Jason shrugs. “Part of the job. I’m sure your jobs are, too, no? Dealing with fame can’t be easy - I would presume,” he adds quickly.

“Not as much as you’d think. Seulgi actually deals with artists and producers,” he tells them, gesturing to her. “That’s cutthroat.”

Seulgi chuckles. “I wouldn’t say cutthroat, but some of them can be a pain for sure.”

“Oh, hey, how did your meeting with Yoongi and his team go?”

“Oh, that.” She sighs and shakes her head. “They managed to talk themselves into a day’s extension for one of the demos.”

“Yoongi asked for an extension?”

“No, his assistant producer did. Kang Chanel,” she states with another sigh. “It’s literally impossible to win a negotiation with her. The last time we tried, that meeting got extended by hours - and we still couldn’t come to a compromise.”

“Damn,” remarks Jason, nodding. “Can’t imagine that. Negotiation is my worst fear - well, Nari’s worst fear for sure,” he adds with a grin at her.

“Yeah, that wasn’t a great night. But it looked up a little after that,” adds Seulgi, smiling at Seokjin. “Remember? It was raining and traffic was backed up fully on the route to my apartment so I came over here? He made me homemade jajjangmyeon,” she tells them. “It was the first thing I’d eaten in - what, twelve hours? And it actually felt like coming home. I mean, you know now that he’s pretty good in the kitchen,” she adds, gesturing to the food on the table.

It takes Seokjin a second to realise that Nari’s gaze is on him; when he looks up and meets her eyes, it’s like being hit by a bus. There’s more meaning in that one look than she’s acknowledged all night and even though she looks away after a moment, her gaze falling to her lap, Seokjin can hear the word echoing between them like a chant. Jajjangmyeon.

Jason laughs at Seulgi’s anecdote, and Seokjin is too preoccupied to realise that Seulgi doesn’t quite respond to it. He’s still looking at Nari, who seems to be done with dinner.

“Um,” she murmurs, taking the napkin off her lap and placing it on her table. “Do you mind if I use the ladies’ room?” Barely waiting for his nod from the corner of her eye, she stands up and walks away. There’s a moment when she’s about to enter his bedroom, presumably out of habit, before abruptly changing directions and going down the hall.

“Actually, I really need to check on this patient, too,” says Jason apologetically. “Do you mind if I -” He picks up his phone.

“No, not at all.” Seokjin watches him leave the dining area and head into the balcony, sliding the door shut behind him.

“Okay, what is going on?” Seulgi asks immediately, her voice low and level.

“What?”

“Something is happening,” she elaborates, twisting in her chair slightly to face him. “There’s a vibe, from… everyone,” she explains, and Seokjin suspects she’s diplomatically avoided using Nari’s name. “It’s like something has happened or is happening�� and everybody is in on it but me.”

Seokjin shakes his head slowly. “I - no. I mean, yeah, it was awkward in the beginning -” He looks back surreptitiously in the direction of the guest bathroom to make sure there’s no one there. “But it’s getting better, right?”

Seulgi observes him, a slight frown on her forehead. “What happened between you and Nari?” she asks plainly.

He shrugs. “Nothing. I mean - apart from what I told you.”

“You hooked up.”

“Yeah.”

She continues looking at him, but he can’t detect any suspicion in her tone. “That’s it? You didn’t date?”

“God, no,” he answers immediately. “Never even came close. We - we hooked up a couple of times but… we never really ventured down the dating territory,” he clarifies, realising a moment later that he’s not even lying.

She sighs, biting her lip. “Then what is it? Did I say something? Does she have a problem with me?” she asks, dropping all attempts at keeping her concerns general. “I don’t - I can’t tell. Or is it Jason?”

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, although he does have an inkling. But it’s too conceited a possibility for him to entertain. “You haven’t done anything,” he assures her.

Seulgi nods slowly. “You’re absolutely sure nothing else happened between you two? Are you guys fighting?”

“We -” Seokjin sighs, for it’s the question of the hour. “I have no idea. It’s a bit awkward right now, I know. It’s complicated.” He pauses, wondering where to begin. “We hooked up, it was fine for a while, then that party happened where you lent me the wrist brace… oh, then I snapped at her at my brother’s wedding - but we resolved that…” He’s just thinking out loud at this point, frowning and pressing a finger to his mouth. “Then we had that pregnancy scare and then I was supposed to meet her at this fundraiser - I guess she’s still mad about that… but we were fine at the reunion last month, too, so I don’t -”

“Wait. Back up.” Seulgi interrupts him. “You guys had a pregnancy scare?”

“Um, yeah,” he answers, a little uneasily. “It was… we were stupid - but I swear, it’s the only time I’ve ever not used a condom, if that’s what you’re -”

“And it was after your brother’s wedding? Didn’t your brother get married, like… six months ago?”

Seokjin hesitates. “Uh… something like that.” When she doesn’t say anything, just frowns deeper as though just realising something, he feels his heart start to race uncomfortably. “Seulgi, what -”

“You thought she was pregnant?”

“But she wasn’t,” he clarifies, still sure he’s missing something. “It was genuinely just a scare.” 

“Pregnancy scares aren’t just scares,” she disagrees, looking a bit incredulous now. “They’re - they’re terrifying. And you two -” She touches her fingers to her temples. “Oh, my God,” she whispers. “You thought she was pregnant…”

“Seulgi -”

But before Seokjin can continue, the balcony door slides open with a sound and Jason returns. A second later, the bathroom door unlocks and Nari appears, running a hand through her hair.

Seokjin chances a glance at Seulgi, who’s staring at her plate, still looking troubled. With his heart sinking slightly, he looks around the table and forces a smile.

“Dessert, anyone?”

—

“Wow.” Yoongi sits back and raises his eyebrows.  

“I know.” Miso nods, albeit sounding less surprised. “That was actually good. Tonight may not be a complete waste after all.”

“Was that better?” Minji, the featured artist, asks from inside the recording booth. Next to her, Jungwon looks daringly hopeful.

“Much better,” says Yoongi into the mic, giving them a thumbs up. 

“Great.” Minji gives them a satisfied smile and hooks her headphones on the mic. Next to her Jungwon follows suit. “Does that mean we can take five?”

“Sure,” says Yoongi, too relieved to deny them anything right now. “Come back quick, though. I want to listen to the last version together and make any changes, if needed.”

Both the artists nod and duck out, leaving him alone with Miso.

“Thank God,” he sighs, stretching in his chair and running his hands over his face. “I think I could cry,” he adds dryly.

Miso frowns, looking amused. “It wasn’t that good. But a definite improvement. We can work with it now, at least.”

Yoongi nods as she rolls her chair closer to the controls and starts layering the recording over the instrumentals. “Try starting it half a second after the beat,” he advises, watching as she nods and obliges. They listen to it in silence and she turns briefly to give him an appreciative nod.

“Sounds good.”

“Thanks.” He checks his watch. “Jesus, it’s eleven pm. Can you think how much sooner we could’ve had this track if we’d scheduled Minji to come in earlier?”

“Wouldn’t matter because Donghyuk is still going to take all night,” she reminds him, her eyes focused on the laptop screen.

“Yeah, but we could’ve had more time to experiment with the track.” He shakes his head. “Anyway. Lesson learnt. Minji is our secret weapon to get the talent out of Jungwon.”

To his surprise, Miso chuckles. “Is she ever.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“What?” When he doesn’t answer, Miso twists her shoulders to look at him. “Wait, are you serious?”

Yoongi starts to feel a familiar annoyance brewing at her superior tone but tries to keep it at bay, at least until they’re done with their work. He frowns mildly back at her, as though he doesn’t quite care what she’s getting at.

“Serious about what?”

“Minji, Min Suga. You think she inspired some hidden talent out of Jungwon? In the recording booth?” She chuckles again and turns back to the laptop. “Dude, they’re totally screwing.”

Yoongi stays frozen in his chair for a few moments while Miso continues mixing the track, with disjointed sounds emanating from the speakers every few seconds.

“Okay,” she says, sitting back slightly. “I think we have a rudimentary version at least for Donghyuk.”

“What do you mean they’re screwing?”

Miso turns around blankly, as though already having forgotten what they were talking about.

“They’re… having relations?” she ventures, before shrugging and going back to the laptop. “I don’t know, what do you think screwing means?”

“They’re - no.” Yoongi scoffs but it comes out more like a choke. “You have no way of knowing that.”

“Really? You think Minji tutored Jungwon out of the goodness of her heart?”

“Yes,” he says forcefully. “She debuted five years before him. And we all mentor our juniors.”

“And sometimes, some of you sleep with them, too.” Miso shakes her head, still adjusting the track. “What’s the big deal, anyway? It wouldn’t be the first time someone hooked up with a coworker.”

“Yeah, but -“ Yoongi breaks off, for she’s right, but he’d sooner dunk his laptop into a fountain than admit that to her. “I still don’t think so. They were singing a love song; they were meant to sound like they were in love.”

Miso snickers. “I didn’t say anything about love,” she reminds him wryly, before tilting her head at the screen. “Can we try adding a synth kind of sound in this segment here?”

“Uh, sure, go for it,” he says distractedly. “I think you’re wrong, though. I don’t think they’re hooking up.”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t look at him. “I’m pretty sure they are. I could tell by the way they were looking at each other.”

Yoongi squints at her. “You could tell by a look?” he asks incredulously. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I am. That’s how I figured out my mother was sleeping with my twenty-two year old maths tutor.” When he doesn’t respond, she turns to him. “What?”

“You know, a lot of your stories would be more impactful with fewer details,” he informs her, just as the door to the studio opens and Jungwon and Minji enter, holding cups of coffee and looking fresh and energetic.

Yoongi chalks it down to caffeine. “Okay,” he exclaims, clapping his hands. “Are we ready to work on the track?” Without waiting for a response, he pulls the laptop to him and clicks on Miso’s completed version. “Listen carefully and tell me what you think,” he tells them.

“Sure,” says Minji, scooching a bit on the sofa so Jungwon can join her. “Hit it.”

Pointedly ignoring Miso’s knowing look, Yoongi plays the track. Both their voices flow out of the speakers, filling the recording booth for everyone to listen and provide their feedback. As the session goes on and Minji stops him here and there to give her inputs, Jungwon adds on to it, Yoongi discusses it and Miso silently observes and speaks only when spoken to, Yoongi feels his mood start to sour slightly.

An hour and forty minutes later, after several rounds of inputs and rough editing, Minji and Jungwon take their leave. With much more work in front of them, Yoongi watches them pack up a little sullenly, sighing deeply when the door closes.

“I hate this,” he mutters, before dropping his head back and groaning.

“Why?” Miso frowns. “That was actually productive. Minji had some good thoughts.”

“No, I hate that - that you’re right,” he says tightly, before sighing again. “They’re definitely hooking up.”

It takes her a moment to realise what he’s said and she laughs quietly. “What convinced you?”

“Just… the way they were around each other. He’s hanging on to her every word,” he adds, disgruntled. 

“Yeah, it’s nauseating to watch. But she’s making him more of a collaborator than just a puppet who sings,” she points out fairly.

Yoongi glances sideways at Miso, the irony of this statement not lost on him. 

“What?”

“You weren’t much of a collaborator right now, if we’re really going there.”

Miso stares at him, her face betraying nothing. “What are you talking about?”

“Please,” he mutters, turning back to his laptop but not really looking at anything. “You said maybe five words that whole session.”

“I was taking notes. And I’ll be translating every single one of them into edits. The good ones anyway,” she adds wryly.

“That’s not what I mean,” he says, more patiently than he feels, for not only is this his job, it might just be the hardest part of his job. 

She swivels her chair around to face him. “What do you mean, Min Suga?”

He doesn’t take the bait. “There’s more to being a producer than just mixing good tracks. You’re the creator of the song - you’re literally producing it. Collaborating with the artists is part of that process.”

Miso’s eyes flicker and she looks down at her lap, her jaw hardening slightly. “Is it so hard for you to pay me a compliment without tacking on a bunch of things I’m doing wrong?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “What?”

“You can just say my track was good. It won’t kill you.”

It might, he thinks. “Fine. Your track was good,” he admits honestly. “It was like something I would’ve made a few years into my role as a producer. You have an experimental mindset.”

She looks a little taken aback, as though she hadn’t quite expected him to be so blunt about it. The corner of her mouth twitches and she looks at her lap again before looking up. 

“Are you being sarcastic?”

“Jesus. No.”

She pauses before nodding stiffly. “Thank you,” she says nonchalantly, turning her chair back around to face the laptop.

Yoongi raises his eyebrows, staring at her side profile. Her skin, already pale, looks translucent under the white light from the recording booth. He sees her glance at him out of the corner of her eye.

“And… point taken on the other thing.”

It’s as good as it’s going to get, he decides. He shifts in his chair to get into a more comfortable position as she starts editing the music. 

“We’re going to have to bring in Jungwon to redo this whole section,” states Yoongi a little while later, shaking his head at the same fifteen second segment they’ve been playing over and over again. “He sounds like he’s drugged.”

Miso chortles. “You may have to bring in his girlfriend, too, if you want anything useful to come out of him.”

He clicks his tongue in disgust. “Don’t remind me.”

“Oh, lighten up. They’re young, they’re working all the time,” she reasons. “It’s natural.”

“It’s unprofessional.”

“Really? You’ve never hooked up with a coworker?” she asks sceptically.

“Not that it’s any of your business but no, I haven’t. Not as a senior and definitely not as a rookie,” he adds, shaking his head. “He needs to focus on his work.”

Miso frowns. “Weren’t you the one that was on my case a little while ago about being too hard on him? And now you’re doing a one-eighty over something that, honestly, is none of your business.”

“How is it not my business?” he argues. “He’s underperforming unless she’s around, they took two very unnecessary breaks in the middle of our editing session, and they left before actually listening to the finished version,” he lists, holding up his fingers. “This is Jungwon’s first solo, in his first year of debut. It’s ridiculous.”

Yoongi can sense her curiosity at his outburst and he wishes he’d kept his mouth shut. But it’s late, the food they’ve ordered is still on its way, and Donghyuk doesn’t seem to be any closer to finishing his arrangement so they can call it a night.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little uptight?”

He bristles. “No. I don’t. But I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“Oh, of course not, because I have no concept of professionalism,” she says sarcastically. “Let me just add that to the list of things I lack.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Way to make this about you.”

“Aren’t you making Jungwon’s personal life about you?”

He flushes again but rallies, giving her an extremely unimpressed look. “Everybody’s entitled to a personal life. Just don’t mix it with a professional one.”

“Interesting,” she says, finally leaning away from the laptop and he feels an instant sense of foreboding. “That lady from Marketing that we had a meeting with today, Seulgi - isn’t she dating an idol? I’m pretty sure I know his name,” she says, frowning deeply and snapping her fingers, pretending to remember before her forehead clears. “But I definitely know what group he’s in.”

A faint smirk flashes across her face, and Yoongi finds it insufferable. “Seokjin and Seulgi don’t actually work together. And his dating life is none of my business.”

“But wouldn’t that make you a hypocrite? What?” she asks when he groans loudly. “Afraid you’re losing an argument?”

“No,” he states forcefully, glaring at her. “I’m just pissed that it becomes an argument! Why can’t a conversation with you ever be easy? Why can’t it just be a conversation instead of turning into a fucking argument every time?”

“It takes two to turn something into an argument,” she points out, her eyes narrowed.

“Sure. But all due respect,” he caveats, “and no offence - I still have friends and allies in this company who are capable of small talk without constantly exerting their brains and superiority, which leads me to believe that you might be the problem here. And you know what?” he continues, cutting her off. “If I’m that argumentative, why don’t you just switch to another producer?”

“Because I got assigned to you, Min Suga,” she retorts. “That’s how it works. And as long as we’re talking about friends and allies - has it ever occurred to you that I don’t want friends who can’t make small talk without exerting their brains?” She huffs and turns back to the laptop. “It might explain why you’re the only person here I actually talk to.”

“Oh, that’s by choice?”

“Shocking, isn’t it?” When Yoongi doesn’t respond, she lets out a half-chuckle without humour. “What? Nothing to say to that?”

“No,” he answers, a little uncomfortable at this sudden change in direction. “Except… well, this might be the first compliment you’ve ever paid me.”

“Yeah, well, don’t go throwing any parades about it.”

A terse silence follows, broken only by the sound of the laptop keys and the random clips from the song. Yoongi glances at her with a mixture of confusion, inadequacy and frustration, her lips pursed and her eyes darting around the screen. The navy blue sleeves of her long-sleeved t-shirt almost reach her knuckles, her wrists thin and fragile against the table. 

Yoongi wonders how she’s surviving wearing it despite the heat in the studio, especially with a grey t-shirt over it, unless it’s her way of winning one over the heat.

He decides to chalk down this awkward end to their conversation to hunger. Still, it feels odd not to reciprocate it. He clears his throat, noting how the sound doesn’t make her flinch at all.

“You are not… unintelligent,” he ventures cautiously.

“I know that,” she replies casually, and Yoongi gives up. They continue working in silence for a few minutes, the silence still awkward but less tense. Something continues to bother him, though, their dialogue having come to a rather abrupt and unsatisfying end.

“I don’t actually care if they’re hooking up,” he says after a moment, in a low voice. “You’re right; it’s none of my business.”

Miso doesn’t respond, but spares him the briefest of glances, which tells him she’s listening.

“I was living paycheck to paycheck,” he murmurs, biting his lip. “I was delivering food and battling privileged rappers wearing designer crap at night to make money. Then I started training and the company I was training with had no money. Me and the guys, including Seulgi’s boyfriend, worked our arses off to debut and grow the company…” 

Yoongi trails off when the silence suddenly feels a little louder, and he realises he can no longer hear the keyboard of the laptop.

“Anyway,” he says flatly. “Call me conceited but I’m attached to this company. I feel I was part of building it and I feel like I’m a part of growing it. I don’t like people getting in the way of that,” he finishes in a murmur, a little embarrassed at his confession.

Miso doesn’t respond immediately, eventually exhaling softly. “You could’ve just told me that. You wouldn’t have had to exert your brain at all.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

—

“Nari, hang on a minute.”

For a moment, Seokjin thinks she’s going to ignore him, but at the last moment she slowly halts just outside his front door. Jason, a few paces ahead of her, also stops, but something on Seokjin’s face seems to tip him off about what’s coming and he clears his throat.

“I’ll go bring the car around,” he tells Nari, before turning to him. “Thanks for having us over. Dinner was great.”

“Thanks. Glad you could make it.” They shake hands and Jason leaves. Seokjin waits until the elevator door closes before turning to Nari, but she beats him to it.

“Are you?” she asks wryly. “Glad he could make it?”

“Yes,” he answers honestly, not elaborating, for Jason remained the least stressful person all night, himself included. But he doesn’t feel the need to explain this to her. She raises her eyebrows expectantly, arms folded across her chest, and Seokjin pauses. There is a lot he wants to say but he needs to play this just right, or it can go down an unnecessary rabbit hole he’s not sure he has the energy for right now.

“Nari,” he begins, then pauses again. “Do you… do you have something you want to say to me?” 

He tries his best to make it sound as less confrontational as he can, keeping his voice calm, hearing the genuine underlying desperation that he didn’t even need to consciously add. By the way Nari’s eyes flicker slightly, he can tell she’s caught it, too.

She hitches her handbag higher on her shoulder. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “Anything you want to say. Anything you want to ask. Anything you want to talk about, or - or clear up…” He purses his lip. “I can still tell when you’re upset. And I don’t want you to be.”

“I’m not upset,” she says automatically. “And it isn’t your problem, even if I am.”

Seokjin bites his lip and nods slowly. “You’re not upset,” he repeats for confirmation.

“No. Do I have any reason to be?”

“I don’t know. But if you’re not, then I don’t understand why you’ve been so annoyed all night,” he points out. “You barely spoke, you barely ate, you didn’t even touch the dessert that Seulgi brought -”

“I’m sorry if I hurt her feelings by not eating the store-bought dessert she picked up on her way back from work.”

Something jolts in Seokjin’s heart; for a moment, the woman in front of him is unrecognisable as Nari. “She was trying to be nice,” he says softly but firmly. “She’s been nice to you all night but you haven’t returned any of it.”

Nari scoffs. “She wasn’t being nice. She was reminding me - very subtly, I might add - where she stands and where I stand.”

He blinks. “I’m sorry - what? What does any of that mean?”

“She’s your girlfriend,” she explains slowly, like she’s doing so to a child, “and I’m not. I am a girl, though. But she’s your girlfriend. And she was reminding me of that. Not at first,” she admits. “But during dinner? And especially after dessert? That’s what she  was doing.”

Seokjin finds himself lost for words. The fact that the tension hit an all-time high after dessert is beyond dispute; everyone apart from Jason seemed to have given up any semblance of remaining diplomacy, with sentences becoming shorter and words getting more clipped, until a stretch of three-minute silence passed and Jason suggested he and Nari make a move.

Seulgi had definitely run out of patience by this point, choosing to speak much more sparingly. There were uncomfortable silences and lingering looks and sideways glances, all in response to statements that seemed completely innocuous. But he can’t imagine he would’ve missed something this blatant.

Suddenly feeling terribly tired, he shakes his head. “She wasn’t - I mean, why would she do that?”

Nari observes him for a moment, as though trying to work out whether he’s faking ignorance. Finally, she shrugs. “I don’t know. But I know women better than you do.”

Seokjin senses this discussion is getting away from him. “I - okay. Honestly, I have no idea what to say to that. I thought she was just being nice - and you admitted it, too, that she was being nice in the beginning.”

“I guess.”

“But you weren’t being nice to her at all,” he points out. “Can you blame her for giving up eventually? She was being welcoming because she knows you’re my best friend,” he says, noting the shadow that crosses her face at those words. “But you gave her nothing. Why? What did she ever do to you?”

Nari looks at the ground again and taps the toe of her shoe on the ground, and for a moment Seokjin wonders if he’s made a breakthrough. “Nothing, I suppose,” she admits in a small voice. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be taking it out on her.”

Seokjin almost sighs in relief; now they’re getting somewhere. “Taking what out on her? Nari, are you angry with me? If you are, just tell me. We’ll talk about it, fight about it -” He breaks off, shaking his head. “I’m sorry about the night of the fundraiser. I really am - I should’ve called or - or -”

She’s looking up at him now and it’s impossible to decipher what she’s thinking. Seokjin is faced with the sudden urge to hold her by the shoulders and make her continue meeting his gaze. He slips his hands into his pockets for good measure.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “But… come on, if you’re angry about something, is this really the way to go about it? Passive-aggressive digs at dinner?”

Nari shakes her head, a bit disbelieving. “Did you really think a dinner would solve all our problems?”

“I’m not even sure what our problems are!” he exclaims in frustration. “That’s why I wanted to talk about them! And for the record, I didn’t think a single dinner would solve anything, but I thought it would be a good start. I thought we could make it through one night - or at very least, fake it like grown ups,” he mutters, disappointed in everything, including himself.

She swallows and takes a step back, and it feels like a chasm. “Guess I’m not grown up enough for that yet,” she says finally, meeting his gaze with seeming difficulty. “But I’m glad you found someone who is.”

“Don’t make this about her.” He tries to firm but it sounds more pleading than anything. “If you have a problem with me, tell me. Or there’s no point to any of this.”

“That’s the thing, though,” she says, and there’s an air of finality to it. “There’s no point talking about the problem because it’s not going to change anything.”

Seokjin has nothing to say to that. Instead, he watches Nari turn around and leave, his heart sinking.

Nari doesn’t stop until she’s out of the building and inside Jason’s car. He’s parked across the street, tactfully keeping his distance, no doubt due to the heart-to-heart he thinks she’s having with her best friend.

Best friend. The words feel like rote; she doesn’t know if they’re quite true right now, but she knows for sure that they’re not untrue. It’s both sad and comforting.

“Everything okay?” Jason asks lightly as she straps herself in.

“Totally,” she mutters, busying herself with the buckle, her hair covering most of her face. “Are you going back to the hospital?”

“Well, no one’s called me. I was thinking about taking advantage of it,” he tells her. “Stay in. Catch up on some sleep.” He starts the car. “Do you want to head back or pick some ice cream on the way? You didn’t eat dessert,” he reminds her, his tone still light.

Nari nods absently. It’s starting to drizzle slightly; just a light spray, not even enough to warrant the wipers. She glances up at Seokjin’s building, at the lights in the apartments on the top floor. 

She’s not sure if one of them is his, or if his apartment even faces this side of the street. But she pictures him anyway, silent and annoyed at her, cleaning up his kitchen along with Seulgi. 

Her throat burns a little and she recognises the onset of her emotions finally creeping up on her - starting with shame.

She can’t afford it, though. There’s only one thing she does when this happens, when she’s overwhelmed, when it’s all just too much. There’s only one place she goes, one place she’s ever gone. But that place is no longer available to her.

Swallowing everything before it has a chance to hit the surface, she turns to Jason.

“Actually,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear, “can we go back to your place?”

—

Seokjin trudges back into his apartment once it’s clear Nari isn’t coming back. He’s not sure what he was hoping for; perhaps a change of heart, or her annoyance getting the better of her - anything to move this painful stalemate along.

He rubs his eyes and heads to the dining area to help Seulgi, who’s putting the wine away.

“That went well,” he says tiredly, leaning backwards against the table. He needs sleep.

“Didn’t it?” Seulgi mutters in reply.

Seokjin frowns a little belatedly, wondering if he’s imagining the bite in her response. He tries again. “Do you need some help?”

“I got it.”

“Okay, hang on,” he says, unable to believe it. “Are you angry with me, too?”

She starts folding the placemats, not meeting his gaze. “Why would you say that?”

He scoffs loudly. “Seriously? How did I manage to piss both of you off tonight?”

Seulgi chucks an unfolded placemat on the table and finally looks up at him, glaring with a hand on her hip. “Not that I don’t love being lumped together with your… ex… sex friend, but I was doing my best.”

“I know! That’s what I was -”

“But you ambushed me!” she interrupts, looking upset. “With your - with all your history together. You told me about it in the middle of dinner with her - God, Seokjin, what the hell was that?”

“What are you talking about?” he exclaims. “I told you we hooked up, before I ever invited her to dinner.”

“Yeah, and the way you said it made it sound like you made out once when you were twenty,” she snaps. “Not that it was happening recently enough for it to still be awkward. Not to mention a pregnancy scare that happened less than a year ago?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Seulgi opens her mouth but then closes it, as though unable to decide what to say. Eventually she closes her eyes and turns away slightly.

“I’m sorry if you felt ambushed,” he ventures uneasily. “But that wasn’t my intention. I just didn’t want to get into something that wasn’t relevant to this -“

“But how is it not relevant?” she interrupts him again. “She’s your lifelong best friend, but not a completely platonic one. And then you invite her over, she’s totally weird with me the whole time, and that’s when you choose to tell me you guys slept together? Of course I felt ambushed, Seokjin! And then I got defensive and - God, I was such a bitch,” she mutters, dropping her face into her hands.

This is unexpected. “Wait, what? No, you weren’t.”

“Yes, I was. Towards the end, I totally was,” she insists. “I was taken off guard, I was on edge and I went into fight or flight mode. Or… girlfriend-faced-with-boyfriend’s-ex-fling mode,” she finishes, shaking her head and looking embarrassed.

Seokjin wracks his brain, wondering if two glasses of wine were possibly enough for him to not notice something both Nari and Seulgi seemed to have observed and reacted to.

“She was never a fling,” he says weakly, but Seulgi doesn’t even seem to hear him.

“And then you tell me there was a pregnancy scare,” she continues after a moment. “In the middle of dinner, just when we’re -“

“What is it with you and the pregnancy scare?” he exclaims in frustration. “It was eighteen hours of tension and that’s it! It lasted less time than a flu!”

“Okay.” She takes a deep breath. “What did you do when you thought she was pregnant?”

“I freaked out,” he says immediately. “A lot.”

“That’s not - okay, what did you say to her when you thought she was pregnant?” Seulgi amends, sounding as though it’s taking everything in her to remain patient.

“I…” Seokjin hesitates; this isn’t a situation he wants to relive. “I told her I’d be there for her. Of course I did, Seulgi,” he says quickly when she doesn’t respond. “It was the decent thing to do - you can’t be mad at me for trying to be a good guy.”

But Seulgi shakes her head slightly, and it’s clear that this isn’t her problem. She isn’t meeting his eyes; her gaze is somewhere near his elbow. 

“You can’t… intend honestly to be there for her for the rest of her life,” she begins slowly, as though choosing every word carefully, “and then the next day, just… not feel that anymore.”

There’s a few moments of silence while Seokjin processes this. He can’t fathom how this evening got so far away from him, and he has absolutely no idea where it can possibly end.

“Look, that situation was… it was very stressful, okay? For both of us,” he explains, taking a step closer. “I don’t - I don’t know what I’m supposed to have done. I did mean what I said to her then. But it doesn’t have a bearing on how I feel now, for you.”

Seulgi gives him a small nod, still not looking at him.

“I know it’s awkward between Nari and me now and - and I need to figure that out. But if you’re worried that there’s something going on with us - there isn’t.”

She exhales and after what feels like many, many moment, she drags her gaze to meet his. “She’s your best friend,” she states softly.

“Yeah. And you’re my girlfriend.”

“That… doesn’t matter,” she mutters under her breath, shaking her head and looking at the floor again. He’s sure he wasn’t meant to hear that but he did, and his heart sinks. “Not in the way that you think,” she adds, slightly louder now.

Seokjin has no response to this. He feels exhausted, cornered and frustrated all at once and he sighs, rubbing his eyes and leaning backwards against a chair.

“I can’t change the past, Seulgi,” he says tiredly. “I don’t know what you want me to do right now.”

“Nothing,” she answers, sounding slightly surprised at this question. “I know you can’t change anything. I just wish you’d told me,” she says after a moment. “Before I sat down to dinner with her.”

He nods, but words of apology don’t come to him at the moment. “Can we just head to - where are you going?” He follows her to the living room where she picks up her handbag, the designer logo glinting dimly. 

“I’m going back to my apartment,” she murmurs, shuffling past him to get to her shoes: sleek high heels. Even after a whole day, she looks perfectly presentable, as though ready for a meeting. 

“I thought -“ But Seokjin doesn’t finish the sentence.

“I know,” she murmurs, sounding a bit apologetic for the first time. “But I just need to… I need to go home. Take a shower, go to bed.”

He nods silently, placing his hands on his hips and looking at the ground. He’s suddenly aware of how huge his apartment is for one person only.

“The bulgogi was great,” she says after a moment. She waits until he glances at her, nodding once more. When he doesn’t say anything, she turns around and opens the door, stepping out and leaving him alone.

—

When the elevator pings and the doors open, there’s a moment when neither of them make a move to enter first. Yoongi opens his mouth but Miso beats him to it.

“Don’t say ‘ladies first’,” she warns him.

He freezes before rolling his eyes. “I was going to say ‘elders first’,” he says, a little smug. He expects her to take offence but she chuckles instead, sounding a bit surprised.

“You don’t care a jot that I’m older than you,” she says dryly, stepping in with him right behind her, and pressing the button.

“On the contrary.” Yoongi leans against the back of the elevator as the doors close. “You’re the one who told me on your first day that under no circumstances was I to call you noona.”

“I also didn’t ask you to call me Miso.”

“No, you asked me to call you Chanel,” he remembers, a little wondrously. It feels a little strange to believe that was less than a year ago; it feels like forever that she’s been in his orbit, the frequent and regular dose of unexpected conflict he never asked for.

“That’s right, Min Suga.”

“You still want to be credited as Kang Chanel?”

“Just Chanel. No Kang.”

Yoongi nods as the elevator begins moving smoothly. They don’t say anything for a few seconds, standing a couple of feet away from each other. Miso isn’t leaning, though; she’s slouching slightly, and her bony shoulders are visible through her t-shirt. A jacket hangs on the strap of her bag, the Burberry tag visibly at the back of the neck.

“Will I -” She stops abruptly. She turns slightly to look at him, a bit nervously before looking back ahead. “Are you sure I’ll be credited?”

Yoongi frowns. “Why wouldn’t you?”

She shrugs nonchalantly, but her slender fingers tighten around the strap of her bag. “You know. In case there’s a conflict of interest or something?”

“Right.” His eyes flicker to the designer tag on her hoodie again. It was on the sofa in the studio, he remembers, discarded casually with her bag placed on top of it. He watches her run a hand through her shoulder-length hair, not even seeming like she cares about the answer.

“Your dad’s a shareholder,” he says. She doesn’t turn, but he notices her stiffen, her dark eyes darting in his direction. “And you’re an employee of the same company. There’s no conflict of interest. It doesn’t matter how you got the job,” he adds after a moment.

Miso simply nods and says nothing. Yoongi tries to look away, but he can’t. There’s something different in the way she asked him that question, something almost doubtful, or hesitant. It makes him uncomfortable, the feeling of his resentment and annoyance with her wavering. It feels as though she’s disturbed the dynamic, and this is not a side of her he wanted revealed ever.

All of a sudden, the elevator jerks and the lights flicker before turning off, leaving them in pitch darkness.

“What the hell -”

“Don’t panic.” Yoongi hears himself say the words without realising it. He feels a movement next to him and immediately reaches out and grabs something, hearing her gasp just as the lights flicker back on. He notices his fingers grasping her forearm and lets go at once, feeling his face heat up.

Just as abruptly as the elevator had stopped, it begins descending again, quiet and smooth. Yoongi can hear his heartbeat in his teeth but he isn’t sure why; darkness has never been something that scared him. 

“Oh, the button -” Miso points at the pane, where all the buttons seem to have reset when the power went out. Both of them reach for it together and when Yoongi retrieves his hand, he feels a tug and realises the edge of her sleeve has caught on his watch.

“Sorry, I’ll just -”

“No, it’s okay -”

She tugs her hand back the same moment that he slips his watch out of the loose thread it’s stuck on and in the split second that her sleeve gets pulled back, Yoongi catches a glimpse of something on her wrist before she pushes it back down.

It’s only a flash but it stands out against her pale skin, a discoloured mark of some kind. For a moment he thinks it could be a bracelet, but there’s no indent visible through her sleeve.

“Donghyuk really came through, huh?” Miso says, but it sounds slightly forced.

Yoongi hesitates but then clears his throat. “Yeah. This way we get the entire morning off. We don’t need to be in by… two, at least.”

“Are you sure? I can come earlier, too, if you want. Maybe Donghyuk could use the help.”

“He’ll manage. Take the time,” he suggests, stretching his neck. “Rejuvenate.”

She waves a hand. “Overrated. I really don’t mind, though.”

“Noted. But Donghyuk will be fine.”

“I’m just saying -”

“My God, I have literally never had to convince anybody this hard to take a day off,” he interrupts, the tiredness of the day finally catching up to him. “Can’t you just…?”

“Fine. Just offering.”

The elevator doors open and Yoongi waits a moment for her to step out before following her. They head out outside the building into the chilly air; he exhales and wonders if he can risk a cigarette right now.

“Don’t.” Miso’s voice almost blends in with the wind. She’s giving him a knowing look while pulling on her hoodie, her bag placed on the ground by her feet. “You almost got caught smoking outside once.”

He really hates it when she’s right. “It’s one-thirty in the morning,” he argues instead.

She shrugs. “Your call. But if you smoke, you’ll have to share.”

“I don’t mind sharing.” As if to prove it, he slips his pack out of his pocket and offers one to her along with the lighter. They light their cigarettes one by one and smoke in silence, in a rare moment of peace together.

He notices the cigarette in between her long, pale fingers. The sleeves of her t-shirt and hoodie cover her knuckles, making the remaining part of her hand look white against the dark hoodie. 

“Good work today,” he says after a minute, when he’s almost done with his cigarette. 

The muscles in Miso’s face seem to relax a bit, but she still doesn’t smile.

“You’re giving me a compliment?”

“Only if you take it without a fuss.”

“Such a low opinion of me,” she laments, dropping the butt of her cigarette on the ground and crushing it. She looks up to see Yoongi raising his eyebrows and holds his gaze for a moment before picking up the stub and throwing it in a bin behind her.

“By the way,” she begins, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, “that thing I told you about my mom earlier? I was - I was joking. You know that right?”

Yoongi struggles for a moment to remember what she’s talking about, rewinding the night back to their argument about Jungwon and Minji. His gaze locks on her slowly once he remembers, but he makes no other motion.

“I mean… I made that up. To make a point.” She bites her lip before shrugging. “It’s just… she’s a socialite and the last thing I need is for some false rumour about her to start spreading.” She crosses her arms across her chest.

He doesn’t respond for a few moments but eventually nods. “M-hm.” He waits until she looks away before putting out his stub and throwing it in the same bin.

They step out of the courtyard after that and out of the Big Hit gates, the air cold and the streets deserted. Yoongi shivers slightly and spots his car in the building parking lot next door. 

“Well… goodnight, then.” Miso loosens her fingers from the strap of her bag in a gesture of farewell and turns around when Yoongi remembers something.

“Do you need a ride home?”

She turns around, looking far more surprised than he thinks is necessary. “Um… no. Why?”

He shrugs, thinking privately that he’s never quite had to justify this question to a girl before. “It’s the middle of the night? And I know where you live.”

“Oh.” She pauses but then shakes her head. “That’s okay, though. Thanks.”

Yoongi doesn’t know what possesses him to ask again. “Are you sure? My car isn’t a limited edition Range Rover; it’s just a regular Range Rover, but it’s not bad.”

Miso cracks a smile and it takes him a bit by surprise. “Thanks, but… my car is here.” She points with her hand in a pocket of her hoodie to the handful of cars parked at the end of the street. To be sure, he spots a sleek black hood, rather similar to his own, at the beginning of the row.

“You called your driver at one-thirty?” He tries to keep the judgement out of his voice. “Wait, when did you even call him?”

“I didn’t. He’s been here since nine pm.” She looks away awkwardly, presumably guessing where his mind is at. 

“He’s been here almost five hours?”

“Yeah.” Her eyes flicker up to meet his. “My dad… prefers to know my whereabouts,” she confesses slowly. “So the car waits for as long as I need.”

The wind seems louder somehow. Yoongi brings up Kang Jaesung’s face in his mind from months ago, in the midst of suited men in a lounge in his sprawling mansion, scotch in hand and a sharp, chiselled face. He glances at the limited edition Range Rover again, noting the tinted windows this time.

“Anyway.” Miso breaks the silence. “Goodnight, Min Suga.”

“Yeah,” he mutters as she walks away. He waits until her driver opens the door for her, she steps in and the car drives away, before turning around and heading to the parking lot.

—

Yoongi reaches the dorm at five minutes past two. There’s silence when he opens the front door, which he appreciates, but when he enters the living room he sees he’s not alone.

“Darkness, please.” Seokjin groans, muffled by a cushion on his face, lying along the length of the sofa with one leg dangling off.

“Jesus,” mutters Yoongi, a bit startled. “Hyung, what - what are you doing?”

Seokjin groans again and slowly sits up, wincing like an old man before slouching again and closing his eyes. “Isn’t it obvious, Yoongi?” He gestures vaguely at his surroundings, including an almost empty bottle of wine on the centre table. When Yoongi simply shrugs, he clicks his tongue impatiently. “I’m wallowing.”

Yoongi nods after a moment, dropping his bag on a chair and joining him on the sofa. “How’s it going?”

“Not bad.” Seokjin pauses. “You look happy.”

He stares. “I do?”

“Well, satisfied,” amends Seokjin. “Like you do when you’ve made some significant progress.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess I did. What about you?” He changes the subject. “I thought you had some big night planned at your place.”

Seokjin scoffs but it comes out more like a choke. “Oh, yeah. My best friend and my girlfriend are both mad at me for opposite reasons. And also sort of the same reason,” he adds, frowning. “Who knows right now. Anyway, it was too depressing staying there tonight. And the kids and I have a shoot tomorrow morning anyway, so…” He shakes his head and falls silent.

Yoongi nods, knowing he’s not required to say anything. 

A few moments later, Seokjin speaks again. “I brought some bulgogi and japchae. It’s in the kitchen.”

Not needing to be told twice, Yoongi immediately makes a beeline for the kitchen and returns a few minutes later with a microwaved plate of food and two sets of chopsticks. “I’m good,” mutters Seokjin, waving a hand when Yoongi offers him some.

They don’t speak again until after he’s done eating, wolfing down the food with scarcely a breath in between.

“Wow,” comments Seokjin. “It wasn’t that good.”

“Guess I was hungrier than I thought,” he replies, placing the plate on the coffee table and leaning back on the sofa, closing his eyes and sighing contentedly. “Thanks, hyung.”

“You’re welcome.” 

There’s a few more moments of comfortable silence. Yoongi considers asking Seokjin if he wants to talk but stops himself, knowing he will if he wants to. 

“Did you finish the track then?”

Eyes still closed, he raises his eyebrows. “No, not yet. Donghyuk’s going to mix the final version and we’ll check it out tomorrow.”

“You haven’t finished it?” Seokjin sounds confused. “I thought you said you’d made progress.”

It takes Yoongi a moment to realise what he’s talking about. “Oh… I did. It got a lot farther than I anticipated. It’s been a while since I’ve worked with a rookie,” he says, and Seokjin nods knowingly. “But I think Miso and I got most of it done.”

“Kang Miso.” Seokjin half-chuckles. “I heard she gave Seulgi a bit of a hard time today.”

“Sorry about that,” he says automatically, wondering a moment later why he’s apologising on her behalf but then remembering she is his assistant producer. “She can be a bit of a pill. But I think we’re coming to a middle ground of sorts, hopefully.”

“Sounds like progress to me. Quite the opposite of my night.”

Yoongi doesn’t respond, his thoughts drifting. Miso’s face right before she’d left swims to the forefront of his mind. Thin and pale, with the thick open hoodie engulfing her, there was something that had changed in her body language. He’d thought about it the whole drive, unable to put his finger on it. 

He thinks about the flash of colour he’d seen on her wrist, her strangely uncomfortable way of asking if she would be credited on the song she’d worked on with him every step of the way.

Something clicks but he isn’t sure what it is. Maybe it’s progress, but he doesn’t overthink it. Reaching for his phone automatically, he opens their chat and types on instinct.

Min Yoongi [02:25] Just remembered. Need to create a demo for the remixes. Should start ASAP - studio, 10 am tomorrow.

Her response comes a short while later, just as Yoongi is getting ready for bed.

Kang Chanel [02:40] As you command, Min Suga. See you then.

—

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

[najatheangel]

𝐒𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬

pairing: liu yangyang x reader

now playing: foreign by trey songz

genre: very spicy and comedy.

requested by: @bigbrainenergytingz ❤️ (sorry boo this one is a little longer than I imagined, but I hope you enjoyed! )

summary: badboy!yangyang crushing on the new female foreign exchange student!reader. Slowly she starts to turn him on and he demands to see her in the library to give her a piece of his mind and body.

“Class here’s our new exchange student from the Dominican Republic! She’s staying here for the 6-month program and she’s a junior. Everyone please be nice and give a big welcome to y/fn. y/ln”

You slowly walk in adjusting your boarding school uniform you received in the dorm today. The skirt was uncomfortably tight and it revealed your legs so it made your walk slightly awkward, but the class didn’t seem to care since they were already staring at you admiring how lovely you looked especially the guy in the leather jacket sitting in the very back, yangyang.

“A pleasure to meet your class, I’ll promise to work hard and do my best.” Your English accent shocked everyone and made all the girls hype you up. All the guys fell in love with you even more, but of course, you had your eye on one man only the rebel, playboy, mastermind, and leader of the Wayv Biker Club Liu Yangyang.

“Bro she’s looking dead at you. I think she wants you, man.” Lucas nudges and ruffles yanyang’s hair as you walk right in front of him and sit at the desk right in front of him. Yangyang leans back and whispers back at Lucas saying “You think so huh? I’ve never done it with a foreign exchange student before. Let’s see what she’s all about.” He gives Lucas a quick fist bump and proceeds to give his attention back to you.

The whole class time, he kept his eyes on you, biting his lip thinking how he’s going to make his first move. As his fellow friend, Mark would always say “You got to seize the opportunity.” And just that he was fired up waiting for the perfect opportunity.

As soon as the bell rang, he ran up to principal Tate begging if he could shadow you around the school just so he could find a way to get closer to you.

Principal Tate rolled her eyes as she ignored to young man pouting at his suggestion. “Listen Yangyang, the last few times I let you shadow a new female student it becomes the talk of the town that you bang them, and then I have to talk to their parents about it over and over again.”

He blocks the door preventing her from getting inside the office. He whines again “Please, she’s different! I will seriously not get her in trouble this time. Can I at least show her the bottom floor of the school and I’ll let you live?”

The principal rolls her eyes one last time and writes a demerit slip as a warning in case yangyang doesn’t follow through with his task. “Fine, only show her the cafeteria, gym, and library, but that’s it. If you take any longer than an hour, then you are in big trouble. Got it?” Yangyang gives her a soft grin thanking her. “No need to worry principal Tate you have my word, see you tomorrow for my after-school detention.”

She shakes her head as he runs after you to your locker screaming your name like an excited school girl. “Ugh, how does his mother deal with him all day every day.”

…

He leans against your locker as he notices you grabbing your packed homemade lunch. “Hey I don't know if you forgot about me, but let me introduce myself. My name is Yangyang and I’m your shadow for the 2nd half of the day.”

You looked at him clutching your lunch box nervously, but at the same time smiling interested in spending your time with him. "Well might as well, you've been staring at me all day in class. Show me around."

Yangyang clears his throat responding back by saying "Uh, was I? My bad love, it's a bad habit. You can follow me Miss Y/Ln. Yangyang walks downstairs with you offering to hold your backpack showing you the cafeteria. The cafeteria of course had served the best expensive meals for students that prefer not to cook in their dorms and also have their tables separated by cliques. Yangyang just so happened to sit in the school rebels aka trouble makers section.

His friends Lucas, CJ, Samuel, and Hendery were smacking their lips eating their pork rice bowl as they see you walking across the cafeteria together with his arm wrapped around his shoulder looking lovey-dovey.

Hendery winked at yangyang and the rest of the boys cheered the two of you on loving how the two of you walk what seems like in slow motion in front of everyone. "Okay, then my boy getting him some. Make sure you meet tonight at the garage to fix our motorcycle like you promised."

Yangyang looks to the side slightly blushing at the boy's comments but gives them a nod before sitting right next to you.

"Sorry, sometimes my friends can be such idiots. Let's eat shall we." The boys moan and make sexual jokes in the background making fun of yangyang even more until he throws an onigiri at them leaving you laughing.

"No it's alright, I never laughed this much in a long time. You guys make the perfect group." Your laugh makes him melt into a bigger puddle making him spill his miso soup all over his pants.

"Oh no! I'm very sorry. Let me clean that off for you" You panic grabbing napkins out of the napkin holder and run to sit very close to yangyang wiping his pants aggressively.

He gulps looking very close to your eyes all the way down to your lap but instantly snaps out of it trying to keep his cool. "Oh no it's getting worst, what should I do?"

The more you wipe the harder time he is having controlling his urges. What made him snap was when you slide his leather jacket off to wipe the stain off his thin white dress shirt. "Okay, that's enough. I can't do this, you're coming with me."

He gets up quickly grabbing you with him speeding towards the library.

...

Yangyang closes the door behind him before checking if anyone dares to come inside. He takes you all the way back to the library back to the romance book section where all the so-called "hook-ups" usually happen and push you against the bookshelf.

He takes a deep breath and looks at you intensely saying "Now I got you where I want you. Why do you keep teasing me? I see right through you."

You finally sigh giving up the innocent act and unleash your true flirty, freaky and confident side. "So you've finally caught me huh. Well, it's not a secret all the girls want you here. So I figured I'd give it try besides your not the innocent one either."

You play with the buttons on his shirt making it harder for him to focus. "Your gonna get me in trouble again if you keep it up, missy."

You giggle and proceed by whispering in his ear in your accent that he loved hearing since you came to the school. "Well, you're the trouble maker for a reason. It won't be bad for one more day."

"I swear to" You cut him off by pulling his shirt down and kissing him softly. "Are you sure you don't want me? I can see it all over your face. Don't deny it just give in already."

Yangyang groans and lifts you up kissing you back against the bookshelf. His kisses become more wet leaving you out of breath and begging for more. He unbuttons your shirt leaving more wet kisses down your neck making you squeal.

"Shhh quiet down. People are trying to study." He teases when clearly no one is here. You slap him lightly and bring his face against your chest letting him play with your boobs.

To make the atmosphere hotter, he starts moving closer to you, lifts your skirt up, and starts grinding against you. "Mmmph, try to keep quiet now. I'll open the door back up and let the whole school hear you scream my name." He chuckles as his movements go slightly faster.

You wrap your arms around him tighter to keep his body as close to you as possible, but that ends quickly when the lunch bell rings.

"Shit- I forgot about Trigonometry!" You panic again as you adjust your skirt and button your shirt back up. You run to grab your backpack and give him one last kiss before running out of the library.

"I'm sorry babe, but can't slip up on my first day. We can continue this later. See ya." You wave skipping out of the library.

Yangyang pouts yelling "Wait, but I didn't get to cum yet. Ugh, man I can't wait to see her again." He smirks adjusting his leather jacket but realizes he smells the leftover soup all over his uniform.

"Crap, I still gotta clean this up."

taglist: @bigbrainenergytingz @purplepsycho03 @dreamyycore @melonmochimoon @soleilsuhh @dundun-baby @kpopsnowball

Send me an ask if you want to be added or removed from the tag list. ☕

[holykillercake]

FRIED EGGS

KOBY x Pirate!Reader

word count: 2k

summary: Being infiltrated as a Marine and keeping your feelings under control was easy until you were assigned to work with Marine Captain Koby. How you wished he was a jerk.

highlight: ¨I am kissing you... but I am angry, Y/N-san...¨

warnings: read under the risk of developing diabetes.

notes: Hey, guys! This was a lovely request from @pure-kirarin! <3 I had to stop other projects to make this one because Koby threw me out of my comfort zone hahaha I really hope you like!! ALSO 1) Happy Birthday Sabo-kun! ALSO 2) In order to add more dept to the story, the main character is part of a Yonkos´crew, but I wrote in a way that all fit, so choose your favorite! ALSO 3) ART ALERT!

Leave comments, hearts and love!

¨You have been doing a remarkable job in such little time, Commander L/N. We all have great expectations regarding your transference to our Marine Headquarters.¨ 

The words of the Rear Admiral barely scratched your mind as you discreetly observed the pink-haired boy´s reflection on the crystal clear window. 

He maintained a similar posture to yours: chin up, chest out, shoulders back, and stomach in. However, while your fingers remained paralleled to your trousers, you took a glimpse of his clenched fist, thumb fidgeting the side of his index finger. 

¨Vice Admiral Tsuru was reluctant to sign your transfer. She said you remind her of herself in the past, which is always an excellent compliment to hear.¨ you nodded, acknowledging his words  ¨We´re glad we convinced her.¨

Your heart warmed with his words, and you almost felt bad because you knew the disappointing outcome O-Tsuru-san would have at the end of this. She trained you with the iron face of a merciless soldier, and the elegance that resembled the animal of her name.

It has been three years since you received the green card from your captain to part ways in a long-term solo mission. A journey to excavate the putrid secrets of the so-called defenders of the law. You learned after a short time that justice is not so black and white.

Not that you planned to reveal the dirt, no. That intel your captain could sell to the Revolutionary Army and keep the capital running. You were interested in the arms race, the corrupt diplomacy, and more importantly, the dark pipes where traitors flowed.

Someone from inside the Yonkos was feeding the Marines with crucial information about the Emperors´ activities. And in such a close fight, you could not take those risks.

All other Emperors must have their own undercover agents within the Marines, but even that was a dispute. You could point some names to your boss, who confirmed what was suspected. Those would usually be the best of the best, extravagant and loud.

But not you. You didn't have to make that much noise. You slid between the floors of New Marineford like a snake swimming with the current. Earning the respect of your superiors and being promoted without ringing any bells. You accepted each medal with a firm salutation and relentless performance. 

¨The trip must have been displeasing. Submerging ten thousand meters underwater and rising to these fiendish waters require a good rest. Our Marine Captain Koby will escort you to your quarters, Commander Y/N. The remaining instructions shall be presented tomorrow.¨

You saluted the Rear Admiral in front of you and turned to the exit, passing by Koby, who waited for you to leave first.  When your paths crossed, the pace of your heartbeats quickened, pumping more blood through your body and leaving a burning sensation on your cheeks. 

The involuntary response was instantly interpreted as alertness to danger, which needed to be handled with caution. 

Can´t let my guard down around this one, you thought.

In fact, you planned to keep as much distance as you could from him. An officer let slip that he has been gaining incredible control over his Observation Haki since the Paramount War. 

But the wind seemed to change direction, and you began to swim against the current. When the morning came, you were assigned to be his partner for an undetermined time, and he would act as your superior. The idea of being bossed around by a younger marine got your temper sparked. 

Only he was not like the others, treating you in a patronizing and condescending way. He spoke to you with the same cordiality and politeness he addressed everybody else. 

Slowly, your concrete cold expression began to soothe. You would still remind yourself how annoying his good manners were, though. So annoying, seriously!

¨Good morning, Y/N-san!¨ he greeted as you joined him for breakfast. 

¨Good morning, Koby.¨ 

¨Our Border Force correspondent sent his report early in the morning with information about possible Yonkos´ alliances in the Wano Country. We are arranging a meeting as soon as possible.¨ 

You didn´t like to handle work so early, but this subject, in particular, raised your spirits. ¨Good. It was about time.¨

You noticed that he wore a different headband. ¨What happened?¨ 

¨Hm?¨ he brought the soup bowl close to his mouth. 

¨The bandana. Green, with the fried eggs.¨ he choked on the miso soup, coughing like he had swallowed poison. 

You reached for a paper tissue and handed it to him. ¨K-Koby, are you ok?¨

¨Y-Y/N... Y/N-san...¨ he coughed some more ¨They´re not... fried eggs...¨

¨Oh...¨ your brows raised slightly ¨What are they?¨

A depressive aura grew around him ¨They are flowers, YN-san...¨

The edge of your lips contorted as you tried to hide a smile. You haven´t felt like smiling genuinely for years. Annoying boy!

From that moment on, ignoring him became more difficult. He started to ask you to train with him or invite you to spend some time with him and Helmeppo whenever you had free time. Eventually, he began to ask you how he looked before an important meeting. 

Most of the time, you would reply something like ¨ok¨. But sometimes, the mouth was quicker than the brain, and you would let an ¨impeccable¨ slip out, followed by an awkward throat clearing and blushed cheeks. 

From both sides.

•

¨Oh my-¨ you stopped yourself from finishing the sentence. 

You were chosen to complete this mission due to your excellent skills in hiding emotions and acting calm under stressful situations. No one could break you. 

Within the Marines, no joke could make you crack a smile, and no torture could make you spill secrets. 

Why did you want to ask if he was ok?

Koby had entered his office with bumps and bloody bruises over his face. His always neat uniform was blotchy, and he carried a first aid kit. 

¨Garp-san paid a visit.¨ He sat on the couch and opened the white box, throwing everything on the coffee table. ¨I bet it wasn't like this with Tsuru-san.¨ he chuckled. 

¨No. She would beat me up, wash me and hang me up to dry.¨ 

You shot from the chair, moving towards the clumsy pinkette, who struggled to attend to his injuries. He tried to hold the mirror with one hand and suture his gash with the other. 

¨Thank yo-¨

¨Shh. Don´t move.¨

You leaned closer to have a better look, giving Koby the same chance. Your delicate perfume smelled like it was tailor-made for you. Your breathing was slightly irregular, and your lip twitched with every given stitch. Your fingers felt like feathers on his skin, so much that he didn´t even feel a sting. 

The job was fast and efficient, making Koby wish Garp had put more effort into his Love Fist. Grabbing a piece of wet cotton, you cleaned the dried blood.  

¨Alright...¨ you whispered.

¨Alright...¨ he whispered back.

You were inches apart from his face, your eyes traveling across the scar on his forehead, the pink locks, and kind features. Your mind traced back all the way to the Paramount War. You had very little knowledge about him, but the words he spoke that day have always made your heart pound like cannonballs. 

You will make an excellent Admiral one day, Koby. 

I hope you don´t hate me. 

¨Y-Y/N-san...¨

¨Hm?¨

¨Your smile is beautiful.¨

¨What?¨ The stupid scene of yours was interrupted like a DJ stopping the record player. 

With cheeks getting pinker than his hair, you shot up and marched back to the chair and your newspaper. ¨You clean this up.¨ 

He left a low chuckle out and began gathering the mess. 

Oh, no, Y/N. You have got to be kidding me. 

He is a freaking marine. Breathe. 

There were a vast number of reasons why you couldn´t like him: from him being a Marine Captain and you being a pirate to the fact that your mission was coming to a conclusion.

Meaning that your journey as his partner would be very soon reaching its end. The meeting with this mysterious correspondent regarding the Yonkos´ operations in the New World would be the last move in this chess game. You would be going home. Mission completed. Everything perfect, right? 

Right, perfect. Impeccable! Ugh!

•

¨... confirm secure line.¨

¨This is Border Officer code 404890. Secure line confirmed.¨ you spoke with a low but clear voice through the nail transponder. 

¨What´s the status on our birdie?¨

¨Positive. The birdie is located at 03:24:01.¨ you gave your boss a coordinate to the name of the Marine informant. The answer you took three years to find out remained on file number one, third page, suspect number twenty-four. 

An amused laugh echoed on your end, and you buried the speaker on your jacket to muffled the sound. 

¨At least he is not one of ours.¨ a chuckle ¨Great job, Y/N.¨

¨Thank you, boss.¨

¨I know this mustn't have been easy, but you were impeccable as always.¨

Yeah, impeccable. 

¨You know the protocol now. We´ll see each other in a few days. You´ll have a party waiting for you, kid.¨

¨Aye, aye, boss. But I want the good booze.¨  Both of you laughed. 

You finished the call, and the smile on your lips died as the image of a pink-haired boy invaded your mind. You wished he was a jerk like everybody else. 

It would have been so easy. 

¨Who were you talking to?¨ your chest contracted, pushing the air out of your lungs and sending extra blood supply to your muscles. 

You hid the transponder into your jacket and turned, facing your Marine Captain. 

¨Eavesdropping, Koby?¨

What should I do?

¨Y/N-san, who were you talking to?¨ he repeated himself, offering the benefit of the doubt. You sighed.

¨My captain.¨ 

Why the need to be honest with him?

¨Y/N-san, please don´t tell me-¨

¨I´m sorry, Koby. I wish I didn´t have to do this.¨ you couldn´t bring yourself to face him.

¨A-Are you a pirate? Why?¨

You chuckled ¨Why am I a pirate?¨

¨Why did you do this?¨ his face was pale, making your guts twitch in guilt.

¨I´m on a mission. But I´ll leave soon.¨

¨You are like... Vergo-san.¨ he sounded disappointed.

¨I am nothing like Vergo. You know this.¨ or at least you hoped he did. 

He closed the door slowly, eyes fixed on your figure. The bright light from the window made him look like an ethereal painting.

While you tried to predict his next move, whether he was going to interrogate you or kick your ass, Koby acted calm and collected, not hesitating. He trusted his Observation Haki to guide his next move. Or maybe his heart.

You saw a pink blur closing distance like a missile, and before you could dodge, his hands pulled you by the waist, connecting your bodies and lips. 

He forced your back to meet the thick window with a gasp that was muffled by the kiss. His touch was rough upon the fabric of your uniform, but his mouth felt soft against yours.

Your hands moved to his hair, removing the round pair of glasses and the green bandana so you could get lost in his locks. His grip was harsh under the fabric of your uniform, but his hair felt soft on your fingertips. 

A moan escaped your lips when he parted the kiss with a loud snap and struck the glass with both hands, keeping you trapped in the middle. You let go of his hair and grabbed him by the collar, not letting him go away.

¨I am kissing you... but I am angry, Y/N-san...¨ his breath was heavy and carried with a myriad of emotions. 

¨I know... I am sorry.¨

¨Why?¨

¨Because I like you, Koby. A lot.¨ he paused for a second, fighting the urge to admit the same.

¨What was your mission?¨

This is the last lie, I promise, Koby. ¨The Marines possessed vital information about something my boss wants. I needed to get it.¨

¨Now that I know that you´re a pirate and that you stole Marine´s assets, I´m gonna have to hunt you down.¨

¨I´ll be waiting for you.¨ 

You stared him in the eyes, and he kissed you to stop himself from saying what he really wanted. 

I love you, Y/N-san.

Diary of Koby-Meppo: The Fried Egg Life Crisis.

💕 @vemuabhi

[heyitsyn]

Mess Up

TimeTraveler!Son x Haikyuu!!

a/n: lmao im really sorry about this :’( this is just a brain dump and something i thought of while i was watching the stage play and i was thinking about it last night until i fell asleep

p.s. your son’s name is natsu in this one and hes an oc so dont be confused as to who this guy is 😂

summary: your son accidentally stumbles through time and the only way he can go back is if his mother and father get together. the only problem? he doesnt know who his father is

he,,,, messed up

that was clear the moment he woke up to a supposed bicycle accident in early morning when it shouldve been a car accident at the dead of night

lets take a flashback shall we

natsu came home after volleyball practice around 8 at night and he stumbled through the front door where he could smell the delicious food that you were cooking

‘ma! tadaima!’

he shouted and you peeked from the hallway with your blue apron and ladle and a close-eyed grin

‘okaeri, baby!’

his slippers padded across the wooden floors to go to the kitchen and watch as you stirred the miso soup

‘how was practice, dumpling?’

omg i would totally call my future kids that though

he shrugged, even though you couldnt see him, and went to the fridge to grab a bottled water before taking a sip

‘inter-high is coming up so captain’s been making us practice longer’

he answered then went to jump on the counter beside the stove so you could see him

he turned silent as he inspected your features and how youthful you still looked despite going through so many stressful times and hardships of raising your son alone

but he was really wondering what was exactly your purpose of being here since you rarely cooked for him due to being busy at work and therefore coming home late

‘ma, why are you here early?’

you noticeably stopped for a second before smiling, eyes shifting from the pot to him

‘i,,, have something to talk about with you’

natsu blinked then leaned against the wall and crossed his arms

‘is it something bad? but youre cooking my favorite so it must be something good. then again, it might be something bad but you want to be on my good side so youre bribing me with-’

‘natsu’

you softly called out to him and he stopped

you turned off the stove and shuffled to the side so you could stand in between his legs

no words were said as a sad look passed your eyes and you cupped his face, looking at him

‘youve grown so much, natsu. ma is sorry that she wasnt here to watch you grow. can you forgive me?’

natsu let out a confused sound and he placed his hands on top of yours from his face then quirked an eyebrow

‘ma, whats going on?’

he slowly asked

you continued to look through every feature of your son and grimaced slightly as his father’s stood out much more than you thought

‘come. lets eat while we talk’

dinner was tense

it was more of the tension coming from you and natsu being so worried and confused that he couldnt even eat his favorite

suddenly, he slammed his chopsticks to the table, fed up with the silence and genuinely worried by your behavior

‘ma, tell me whats wrong’

you winced and swallowed before shakingly placing your own utensils down and looking at a stain on the table from when he was 5 and accidentally spilled dye from his tye-dye activity

‘natsu, i,,,’

you drifted off but he gestured for you to continue

‘first off,,, i want you to know that i love you and that i only want what’s best for you. second,,, i hope you will go through with this because i,,, dont want you to bear this,,, this grudge for the rest of your life’

‘am i adopted?’

he demanded but you looked at him in shock

‘what? no! we literally have the same hair color and eyes, dumpling!’

then he let out a relieved sigh

‘thats the worst thing i thought of so i feel better now. come on, hit me’

you chuckled but went back to talking

‘your father,,, wants to meet you’

nope, that was actually the worst thing he heard

‘father? what, father?’

he couldnt stop the venom that dripped from his words and you flinched because you knew he would act like this

‘we bumped into each other at the airport,,,, he told me about,,, wanting to meet,, you’

you mumbled, now concentrating at your laced fingers

‘well, you can tell him to fck off because the feeling’s not mutual’

natsu growled then continued shoveling down his rice but you reached out and softly placed a hand on his arm and sent him a pleading look

‘darling, i-,,, i dont want to do this either. but this hatred for him-your anger- i dont want you to live with this! this might not show now but it will affect you in the future with a-a future family! he will drag you down but if you just--- just talk to him once! just once-’

natsu banged a fist on the table and you gasped at the sudden sound

‘HE WANTED YOU TO KILL ME’

he shouted, anger and rage reeking from his spot across you

‘HE LEFT YOU TO FEND FOR YOURSELF BECAUSE HE WAS TOO MUCH OF A DAMN COWARD TO OWN UP TO A CHILD HE HELPED MAKE. OH SO WHAT- ALL BECAUSE HE JUST WANTED TO SCREW? A FUN TIME THEN THROW YOU-US- AWAY? NAH, MA, WHY THE HELL WOULD I WANT TO MEET SOMEONE WHO NEVER WANTED ME IN THE FIRST PLACE?’

you gulped because right now, you were able to see the similarity to his father

‘he just wants to see you-to talk to you’

‘BUT WHAT ABOUT ME? I DONT WANT TO SEE HIS FCKING FACE BECAUSE IF I DO, I MIGHT PLUMMET HIM TO THE GROUND’

‘natsu, please stop yelling at me’

you pleaded and he stared at you angrily but turned his gaze back to the chicken bites

‘every thought of him makes me angry so if i see him, i will lose every control i have. hes nothing but a stranger to me-wait, no, hes like dirt that deserves nothing but bad luck to come his way. its either he wanted me or cant have me. and he chose wrong so hes going to have live with it for the rest of his life and pretend i dont even exist. and thats that’

you ran your hands on your face then closed your eyes

‘natsu, you dont understand, we-- we were children! i was still a student! we didnt know,, we didnt know anything about babies! i-i feel like shite because i brought upon this rage in you towards him, your father! i want to make things right! to make peace!’

‘DO YOU THINK I NEVER SAW THE TIMES YOU SAT ON THIS SAME FCKING TABLE, LOOKING AT THE BANK ACCOUNT AND CRYING BECAUSE WE WOULDNT HAVE ENOUGH FOR FOOD TOMORROW? OR-OR WHEN YOU BEGGED-BEGGED- YOUR BOSS FOR MORE SHIFTS SO YOU COULD MAINTAIN A ROOF OVER OUR HEAD? YOU THINK I DONT SEE THAT SHITE?! BECAUSE I DO! I SEE IT AND IT STILL GIVES ME NIGHTMARES TO THIS DAY BECAUSE I COULDNT DO ANYTHING TO HELP YOU! I JUST SAT THERE AND LET YOU SUFFER IN SECRET BECAUSE I WAS JUST A CHILD! AND DO YOU KNOW WHO’S AT FAULT WITH ALL OF THIS?! HIM! HES THE REASON WHY YOU SHED EVERY BLOOD, EVERY SWEAT, AND EVERY TEAR! ITS BECAUSE OF HIM I NEVER SEE YOU BECAUSE YOURE BUSTING YOUR ASS AT WORK FOR ME! ITS BECAUSE OF HIM THAT I PLAY LIKE MY LIFE DEPENDS ON IT SO I CAN BE SCOUTED AND EARN MONEY FOR US IN THE FUTURE! HIM! ALL HIM!’

angry tears were falling down his face and you stood up to hold him but he shot up

‘natsu-baby-please calm-’

‘WHO DOES THAT TO A CHILD’

his voice cracked and he hiccuped

‘IT DIGUSTS ME THAT I SHARE THE SAME BLOOD AS HIM AND I AM MADE WITH 50% OF HIM! AND I SEE THAT LOOK IN YOUR EYES BECAUSE I REMIND YOU OF HIM, DONT I? I HATE THAT! HE DID THAT TO YOU!’

you held on to him and tried to tell him to calm down because you knew how distructive he could be

‘I HATE HIM. AND I CANT BELIEVE YOURE TRYING TO CONVINCE ME TO SEE HIM. HOW COULD YOU’

maybe it mustve been the stress from midterms and the competitions but his heart was hammering and he could see nothing but red and feel nothing else but anger running through his veins

‘no, dumpling, youre misunderstanding because i-’

but he swatted your hand away, eyes staring at his shoes

‘i need to get away right now. just- i’ll be at katsuki’s house. dinner was good so thanks’

he mumbled and rushed to the hallway, picking up his gym bag and quickly slipping on his shoes

you ran to the door and held on to him

‘natsu we can talk this out! please! dont go! just stay-’

he shut his eyes to calm himself down before turning and giving you a soft kiss on your forehead

‘ill be back tomorrow. just let me go blow off some steam, kay, ma?’

but he didnt even give you an answer because he was already out the door

--

the walk from his apartment complex to katsuki’s house should’ve only taken nearly 10 minutes but he was so pre-occupied and distracted that he ended up missing the turns and ended up in an unfamiliar street

based on his surroundings, he was in the city but he remained his gaze on his shoes, just walking and walking, not stopping

this caused him to miss the stoplight and he was the only person who continued walking, the shouts and yells from the pedestrians falling deaf on his ears 

but it finally opened up with a loud honking and a bright light that made him freeze in shock until it collided with him, sending him flying and falling unconscious

---

natsu groaned, not because of the pain but because of the bright light

‘oh god, i died and im going to the light’

he mumbled but a frantic shout made his eyes fully open up

‘NO DONT GO TO THE LIGHT! OH GOD! I JUST KILLED SOMEONE!’

natsu turned to the direction of the voice and he jumped then rolled over to get away but indeed, the pain from the collision stopped him

‘ugh’

he groaned and winced

‘hey, hey, you okay?’

the high-pitched voice asked and natsu raised his head to see the boy with orange hair kneeled down in front of him and hands hovering over him

‘i feel,,, ugh’

natsu sniffed and the boy helped him sit up so he could fully look around

‘where am i?’

he asked and the boy shuffled to kneel down beside him

‘japan. sendai. oh, im hinata shoyo by the way! so sorry i hit you with my bike!’

but natsu’s jaw dropped

‘hinata,,, shoyo?’

his eyes widened and he completely forgot about the pain as he stood on his feet, pointing at the tangerine

‘OLYMPICS!’

he shouted and he was getting scared, eyes drifting to everywhere and pacing in circles

‘did i,,,, no, that doesnt happen. damn izuku wouldnt shut up about doctor who. its not possible, just not! right?!’

hinata was now panicked and thought he really messed up the guy in the head because the h/c boy was now walking in circles, murmuring angrily, and face switching expressions every millisecond

‘oh my god, i need to take you to the hospital! i messed you up!’

hinata frantically grabbed his phone but natsu jumped and grabbed the device

‘no. no, its fine. i just-,,,, i dont remember anything’

natsu played and hinata’s eyes got even wider

‘OH MY GOD I REALLY DID SOMETHING WORSE!’

but natsu placed his hands on his idol’s shoulders to calm him down

‘no hospital, no needles, no medics. just,,, call your emergency contact or something’

it was quite funny that the victim had to console the cause of the accident but hinata nonetheless complied and hit the call button

‘your mom?’

natsu asked but hinata shook his head

‘no. my team manager, l/n y/n. she’d know what to do’

but natsu’s brain exploded

‘l/n,,,, y/n?’

my ma?

oh god i really did mess up

this is going to be a whole mess and i can already feel it but yanno what? imma just go with the flow and go through with your guys’ thoughts and ideas so in a way, you can control (??) the story?? idk i really dont know what im doing but i just needed to put this into writing bc ive been thinking about it since i woke up. also, do you think i should write this in a headcanons way or normal writing way?

[thefinalcinderella]

Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru Chapter 2 - The Mountains of Hakone are the Steepest in the World (Part 2)

Kiyose declaring that they’re aiming for Ekiden has the same energy as Kayoko (or rather, Keisuke) telling the MDC they’re aiming for the Olympics in DIVE!!

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

1. Shiraae is a salad dressed with tofu, white sesame and white miso

2. Osechi is traditional New Year’s food stored in special boxes, you can read more about it here. Zouni is Japanese soup containing mochi and is strongly associated with New Year’s in Japan

Previous | Next

Entering April, the residents of Chikusei-sou suddenly became busy.

They had to frequently go to the university for orientation and course registration. Like bees riding on the spring breeze, they moved around without being able to stay still for even a moment. Every night from King’s room, there came the sound of him restlessly saying “Find a job, find a job” in his sleep, which could be heard all over Chikusei-sou. Yuki, who passed the bar exam last year, did not join any seminar and spent each night going around to clubs and immersing himself in a flood of music. Musa and Shindou, who were serious and went at their own pace, ignored their surroundings and immediately finished their course registrations, and it seemed that they were looking for new part-time jobs.

Jouji and Jouta were in high spirits right after the entrance ceremony, devoting themselves to hunting for clubs with cute girls. Nico-chan, who disappeared afterwards, was seriously consulting the “Easy Credit Acquisition Manual” that had been circulating secretly among the students and worrying over which lectures to take.

Kakeru managed to finish his course registration and immediately made a few acquaintances. Because he had no money, he snuck into freshmen welcoming parties and drank free alcohol every day. There was no scrutiny of what he was doing up to that point, and there was no hounding of what he was going to do from now on. Kakeru quickly fit into the do-as-you-please school atmosphere where people who didn’t interfere much with others gathered.

The course registration for all the students finally finished, and lectures would begin starting tomorrow. After Kakeru finished his evening jog and went through Chikusei-sou’s front door, he saw a sign hanging from the hole in the twins’ room. On the sign was written “Today’s Kakeru’s welcoming party. Everyone gather in the twins’ room at seven.”

My welcoming party. Kakeru felt ticklish. It was close to two weeks since he came here, and every night they made up a reason and held a drinking party or played mahjong in someone’s room, so he didn’t think there would be a welcoming party or anything at this point, but nevertheless, he was happy.

“I’m back,” he called down the hallway. In the kitchen, Kiyose and the twins were cooking for the party. Kiyose was stir-frying chopped onions and chunks of garlic in a big wok. Even though it was a wok, why did it smell like olive oil? Kakeru thought, puzzled. Kiyose, who was watching the fire with a serious expression, said, “Now!” Jouta quickly opened a can of tomatoes and dumped the contents into the wok. It seemed that they were making pasta sauce.

Jouta was tilting the can in one hand and handling a frying pan in his other. A huge amount of mustard greens and small fry danced in the air, and now it was the fragrant scent of sesame oil that drifted in the kitchen.

“We decided to make mixed rice,” Noticing Kakeru, Jouta said brightly. “Do you like mustard greens?”

Pasta and rice. While thinking what a high carb menu that was, Kakeru nodded.

Jouji was sitting at the dining table and making a bowlful of something that looked like spinach shiraae. (1) He was stirring so forcefully that there were beads of sweat on his forehead. A light green paste-like substance was being formed. Kakeru, feeling uneasy, tried to lend a hand, but was chased away with “The guest of honor doesn’t need to do anything.” Apparently, the welcoming party for the twins was completed before Kakeru arrived at Chikusei-sou. With the dignity of the former inhabitants of a land, Jouta and Jouji were assigned to cook.

Because there was nothing to do, Kakeru went to Tsuru no yu to take a bath by himself. After he was clean, he waited for seven o’clock in his room.

It seemed that he became drowsy while he waited, and when he woke up in a panic, it was already five minutes before seven. He thought that he should go to the twins’ room immediately, but arriving earlier than the arranged time would also be embarrassing, because it would seem like he was too impatient to wait. Kakeru stealthily opened his door to check out the situation. The kitchen was empty, and the first floor was completely silent. The signs of people and the sounds of standing and walking were concentrated in the twins’ room on the second floor.

Kakeru waited three more minutes, and then went up to the second floor.

When he opened the door, he saw Nico-chan threatening Musa with “Listen, just take attendance for me in this lecture!” while putting him in a headlock.

“Oh, Kakeru!” Jouta called out in a miserable voice. “Look, Kakeru came.”

Was I not supposed to come? Kakeru was confused, but apparently they were trying to sound the crackers in time for Kakeru’s arrival. We missed the timing because of Nico-chan-senpai making a huge fuss, Jouji said with a disgruntled face. While Shindou mediated, he rescued Musa from Nico-chan.

The residents crowded the twins’ room. Placed on the tea table in the center of the room and around it were the food Kiyose and the twins made, as well as the many sweets and alcohol brought by each person. King, who was hurriedly sneaking food, turned to Kakeru and told him to “Oh, sit” while chewing food.

Without obeying Kiyose’s calls to stop, the crackers headed towards the main house from the window and sounded all at once. A surprised Nira crawled out from beneath the veranda and barked incessantly at the moon.

“Now, shall we toast?”

Nico-chan took a canned bear. Kiyose surveyed the room.

“Feels like something’s missing.”

“Prince-san isn’t here!” The twins said in unison.

“Who’s that?”

Yuki answered Kakeru’s question.

“He’s Kashiwazaki Akane, who lives in Room 204. He’s a second year literature student.”

There was still a resident he hadn’t met yet? At any rate, why was he called “Prince”?

“I’ll go call him,” Kiyose said, standing up. “Kakeru, come with me.”

Exiting the twins’ room, Kiyose knocked on the door of Room 204, which was the closest to the stairs.

“I’m coming in, Prince.”

Without waiting for an answer, he opened the door. When Kakeru saw what was inside, he felt dizzy and staggered.

Inside the cramped room that had the exact same layout as Kakeru’s room, there were volumes and volumes of manga densely stacked from the floor all the way to near the ceiling. The surface of the tatami mats was only visible for a narrow passage. At the far end of this passage, there was a folded blanket placed next to the window. It seemed that since there was no space to lay out a futon, the resident of this room wrapped himself up in the blanket and slept. The lights were on in the room, it didn’t seem like the resident was here.

At any rate, it was a huge amount of manga. Room 204 was right above Kakeru’s room. Was this the reason for the creaking in his ceiling every night? Kakeru gently touched the stacks of manga that had become walls.

“Hey, don’t touch it. I sorted them all properly.”

A voice came from bon top of the mountain of manga next to him. Surprised, Kakeru stepped back to try to find the identity of the voice and hit his back into the mountain of manga. The books rustled down over his head.

“Oh, come on!”

From the space between the ceiling and the manga mountain, a man with a gorgeous face crawled out. He fluttered his heavy-looking eyelashes, which were worthy of his nickname of “Prince.”

“What’s going on, Haiji-san? Is this a new guy?”

“From about two weeks ago.”

Kiyose gathered the manga scattered on the tatami and handed them to Prince. “Tonight’s Kakeru’s welcome party. There should have been a sign hanging at the entryway.”

“Didn’t notice. I haven’t left Aotake for the past few days.”

“I want you to join us too.”

Despite saying “What a pain,” Prince went out into the hallway under the pressuring glint in Kiyose’s eyes. Kakeru hurriedly called out, “Um, the creaking in my room is really loud.”

“It’s loud everywhere.”

Perhaps lured by the scent of the food, Prince walked unsteadily towards the twins’ room, while still holding the manga.

“No, I think the creaking in my room is definitely worse than anywhere else.”

Kakeru was desperate. Living below a room carrying so much weight was extremely dangerous.

“Prince-san, let’s switch rooms.”

“I’m not going to put my precious manga on the humid first floor.” Prince bluntly shot down Kakeru’s proposal. "Your name’s Kakeru, right? You should think, ‘I’m living right below Niagara Falls.’”

“What do you mean?”

“Every day is full of thrills and things worth doing,” Prince opened the door to the twins’ room. “Furthermore, there are envious people who wish ‘I can live under something wonderful.’ My manga collection is unmistakably worth that much.”

Kakeru looked to Kiyose for help.

“I know what you want to say,” Kiyose sighed. “But, just give up.”

Now every resident of Chikusei-sou was in the twins’ room. Right after they did their toast, the atmosphere in the room accelerated, increasing the alcohol concentration, and there was laughter here and there.

Prince took the responsibility for accumulating manga and was made to sit between the boards where the risk of collapse was high. Kakeru was next to Kiyose with his back against the window that faced the yard. When he watched from here, he could understand the relationships between the residents of Chikusei-sou. They lived a semi-communal life in this cramped apartment. They had get along with each other from the start, but it seemed that some of them were particularly good friends.

The twins and Prince were having a heated discussion about manga while devouring sweets. Musa and Shindou were lending an ear to King’s anxieties about job hunting.

“I don’t even have the money to buy a suit.”

“How about a part-time job?”

“King-san, did your uniform from high school have a blazer? You can wear that if you did.”

Nico-chan and Yuki were immersed in talking about computers, which Kakeru couldn’t follow. Kakeru had already learned that though they were always snapping at each other, that was their normal, so he let them be. Even at times like these, Nico-chan approached the window Kakeru was sitting near and blew smoke towards the yard.

Kakeru and Kiyose didn’t particularly talk to each other, instead drinking beer and eating. Even though they were quiet, it was not awkward.

They knew that their common denominator with each other was track and field, but they somehow or other avoided talking about that. Kiyose seemed to be bearing that injury on his knee, and Kakeru wasn’t able to sort out the events of his high school days in his mind enough to be willing to talk about them. If they talked about track, it would seem like they would just be licking each other’s wounds, so he didn’t want to do that.

When the cans of beer were gone, Shindou opened the seal on the local sake sent from his hometown. The sake, whose name was unknown to all of them, was strangely sugary, but nobody cared about the taste. They devotedly consumed alcohol along with the snacks of cucumber, salt, and miso brought from the kitchen.

It was at that moment that Kiyose abruptly opened his mouth.

“Hey guys, listen up. I’ve got something important to say.”

Everyone, who was being noisy as they pleased, turned their attentions to Kiyose. They spontaneously formed a circle with the sake bottles in the center. What is he going to say? Kakeru thought as he looked at Kiyose’s face sitting next to him.

“I hope for all of your cooperation a little less than a year from now.”

“Are you taking a law exam or something?” Nico-chan asked leisurely.

“I can give you advice if you are,” Yuki said. Everyone was expecting that it would be something like wanting stop cooking meals for them because he was looking for a job, or something like that. However, Kiyose shook

“Everyone, let’s all for the top together.”

“…Of what?” Yuki cautiously prompted him on. The twins huddled together as though frightened. King muttered, “I’ve been suspecting Haiji’s up to something for a long time now.” Shindou and Musa exchanged glances.

“Combining the strengths of all ten of us, we take the top in sports.” Kiyose declared loudly. “If we are successful, it will make you popular with girls, as well as be advantageous for job hunting.”

“Is that true?”

The twins reacted, alert. They slowly constricted the circle and sidled up to Kiyose.

“Of course it’s true. It’s obvious that girls go crazy for guys who are good at sports, and on top of that, they are welcomed by big companies.”

The twins began to discuss immediately.

“If it’ll make me popular with girls, I’ll do it. Nii-chan?”

“Same here. But to the top of which sport exactly are we aiming for? You need nine people for baseball.”

“Soccer needs eleven people.”

“It’s kabaddi, right?” Nico-chan cut in.

“No,” Kiyose said. Yuki gave Nico-chan a cold look.

“Do you seriously think that doing kabaddi in the current Japan will make you famous enough to make your job search lucrative?”

“Plus, you need seven people for kabaddi,” King showed off his miscellaneous knowledge trained from quizzes.

Nico-chan and Prince instantly raised their hands and said, “Then, I pass.” For all of his sarcastic comments to Nico-chan, Yuki also raised his hand with them.

“Good luck with the rest, you guys.”

Musa looked over everyone present and reported brightly, “Now there’s exactly seven people.”

“I said, we’re not doing kabaddi, Musa,” Kiyose cleared his throat. “Furthermore, Yuki, you have no right to pass. Every year, I make special osechi and zouni for you, who whines about not wanting to go back home for New Year’s.” (2)

“Are you seriously threatening me?”

Yuki protested, but it was too weak. Kiyose smiled slyly.

“Why do you think I’ve cooking for you guys every day and working so hard to manage all of you guy’s health until now?”

What on Earth was Kiyose talking about? Everyone, who received the benefits from Kiyose’s housework abilities in no small part, fell silent as they sensed the danger. Now that I’ve fattened you up, let’s eat. It was as though they were lost brothers who were pulled out before a witch sharpening a kitchen knife.

Kiyose, who expressed interest in Kakeru’s running, and said he also did track. Kiyose, who forcibly dragged Prince to tonight’s welcoming party and gathered all the residents of Chikusei-sou. And finally, a sport done with ten people.

It can’t be, Kakeru thought.

“Do you still not understand what we’re aiming for?”

Kiyose was teasing the residents sitting in a row, as though he couldn’t resist having some fun. Everyone Kiyose’s gaze shot through were as reserved as a mosquito at the start of the season, hanging their heads and shaking them.

“It’s a sport that everyone’s seen at least once before. On TV, while eating zouni.”

“Could that be…”

Shindou gasped. Kiyose, leaning against the window frame, calmly stated,

“Yes, Ekiden. What we’re aiming for is the Hakone Ekiden.”

Previous | Next

[metaphorical-love-for-a-car]

Food Is The Key To The Heart

Request; “I was wondering if I could ask for Aziraphale taking interest in a Reader he starts to notice goes to the same restaurants as him. They bond over being foodies and are charmed in watching how much the other enjoys their food, and things grow from there ^_^” ( @kawaiiusagichansan )

Warnings; none!

Word Count; 1.2k

Notes; so sorry this has taken me so long and that it’s not the best thing i’ve ever written :/ I’ve had major writers block lately

You had always loved food. You weren't just interested in the taste of various meals, as most people were. You saw food as an underappreciated art form. Ever since you were little, you wanted to get into the kitchen to watch how the adults cooked. After a while, you started to create your own recipes. You were fascinated with the way different ingredients reacted to each other. You were always experimenting. It was like cooking was somewhere between a science and an art in your mind.

You were determined to have your own restaurant. So you started planning for the future.  You would weasel away every bit of spare change you had. You started working at a small restaurant in your hometown, slowing rising through the ranks. You had started off bussing tables and helping wash dishes, then you moved on to serving, and, before long, you got a chance to actually cook. Your boss had taken a liking to you. They claimed that you were their protégé and promised to help you start your own business when you were ready for it. When you finished culinary school, you moved further into the city. Your old boss had prepared you for running your own place. You just hoped that it would last.

You were honestly surprised at how well the restaurant was doing, much of which you attributed to your wonderful staff. There were nights where hardly anyone came in as well as ones where it seemed like everyone collectively decided to show up. But for the most part, there was a steady stream of customers. Over time, you learned to spot a couple of regulars. Some of them you tolerated, and there were a few whom you couldn't wait to get rid of. But there was one customer who came in once or twice a week who was always kind to both you and the staff. Most of the time, he came in alone, and every once in a while he would bring his fiery-headed friend in with him.

The more he came in, the more you two would talk. You learned that his name was Aziraphale, and he loved food just as much as you did, if not more. The two of you would debate about whether certain restaurants were as good as people made them out to be as well as discuss various recipes.

One day, he came in with a thermos cradled in his hands. You were a bit curious as to what it held, but you didn't question it and led him to his favorite table. As he took his seat, Aziraphale cleared his throat. A sheepish grin graced his features. "(Y/N), this is for you." He handed you the thermos, cheeks turning pinker by the second.

"Oh? And what might it be?" you asked, a bit surprised.

"It's a- uh- soup, of sorts. I tried my hand at cooking and figured I'd let you be the first to try it."

"Did you follow a recipe?" His grin faltered.

"Well, not exactly. I strayed away from it at some points. I didn't think it was too bad. I've had a lot worse," he awkwardly joked, thinking back to the food in the 14th century. You were a bit skeptical about trying it but gave in to the puppy eyes Aziraphale was giving you.

You looked inside the thermos before putting it to your lips and taking a small sip. It looked like miso soup, but it tasted very, very wrong. It almost tasted soured. You hid your grimace by pressing your lips into a thin line. Aziraphale's shoulders sank. "It's not very good... I-I shouldn't have brought it. I'm terribly sorry-" You cut off his apology, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay! At least you gave it a shot. No one ever starts cooking like Gordon Ramsay. We all have to start somewhere." You gave him the thermos back, and an idea popped into your mind. A small smile crossed your features. "How about this, you stop in tomorrow around noon, and I'll teach you to cook something. What's your favorite food?" Aziraphale's face lit up at the suggestion. He paused for a moment, thinking.

"Crêpes?" he said with a sheepish grin. You nodded and pulled out a small pad of paper, scribbling a few things down. Ripping off the piece of paper, you slid it over to him.

"This is my personal number. Call me when you get here tomorrow." You pat his shoulder before disappearing back into the kitchen.

The next day, you got back to the restaurant a little before noon to set everything up. You went down the list of ingredients, gathering them all together.  It wasn't long before an unknown number called. You answered it, assuming it would be your favorite customer. Aziraphale rambled for a moment about how he didn't have a mobile but he was calling from his shop, which was just around the corner. It didn't take him very long to arrive.

You led him to the kitchen and handed him an apron. "Just in case. I'd hate for you to get your spiffy suit all messy," you teased with a wink. Aziraphale's cheeks went pink, and you had to bite back your laughter. You set down a small stack of papers on the counter, pointing to the top of the first page. "This is the recipe we'll be following. As long as you stick to it, you should be fine! Let's get started, shall we?" Aziraphale nodded excitedly.

"What should I do first?" You pointed to the small bag of flour.

"Open the flour while I go get the eggs and milk from the fridge." You had your back to him for two minutes at most, and while you were away from his side, you heard a small shriek. You rushed over, trying to figure out what could possibly have gone wrong, only to burst into laughter. Aziraphale was holding a ripped back of flour in his hands, and it appeared that at least half of it was all over him. He gave you an innocent smile, face going red. You set down the eggs and milk and clutched your sides as you laughed even harder.

"I may have made a small mistake..."

"Yeah, I'd say so," you snorted. "Here, let me help." You found a handtowel and dampened it in the sink. Aziraphale followed behind, nervously trying to wipe the flour off of the apron. "Don't worry about that, it can easily be washed." You reached over and carefully cleaned off some of the flour that clung to his nose and cheeks. His eyes wandered across your features. When you finally caught his gaze, Aziraphale gently took one of your hands and cradled it in his own.

"Let me take you to dinner tonight. To make up for my- uh- mess. I could easily get a table for two at the Ritz." He gave you the biggest puppy-dog eyes you had ever seen. You just couldn't resist, a soft smile gracing your features.

"I'd love to."

~*~*~

Good Omens Tag List;

@kawaiiusagichansan

@fatbottomedboi

[wise-child-of-the-summer-wind]

Yume no Cafe

A Strange Encounter

     Today something strange happened and ever since it happened I haven’t been able to focus. I can’t think, can’t be normal-- I can’t do anything! Not even breathe! That is why I am going to do the one thing my mind will allow— write. I feel it is the only way to clear my mind and get this off my chest, so, here we go. I shall title this story after the location it all takes place— Yume no Cafe.

     Today was a strange day; I could tell from the way the clouds parted the sky and snow littered the ground like glistening jewels. Something about it was different; it was wrong, and it only got worse as the day went on. It all started with me waking up nearly an hour late for work. I had to think up the worst excuse to escape being reprimanded by Jun, my boss. Instead, I got scolded by the manager which ticked another hour off my schedule, but that happened after the strangest event that I feel triggered all of this. Now that I think about it, not a single good thing has happened since that “event.” But, back to the story.

      Being late, I had no choice but to skip my traditional breakfast of miso soup, rice with a soft boiled egg, and grilled fish for something from the local coffee shop just a hop-skip-jump from the bookstore I work at. Worse yet, most of my clothes were still soaking wet thanks to the unexpected snow that fell after I hung them out to dry. Thus, I went to work in less than suitable attire.  

     Anyhow, after finally getting to the cafe, I rushed in, shivering, in the hopes I could get something hot to fill my empty stomach and warm my soul.

     “Hey Mrs. A, can I get the usual?” I asked exasperatedly as she flashed me a smile and turned her back. Mrs. A has wanted me since I was a little girl, and since she can’t have me, she is always doing things to get under my skin. Today is no different. I could tell from the small snicker she let out that she was getting ready to poke fun at me-- again! Here we go again, I thought as she turned with my green tea and bagel in hand.

     “So I see you’re late for work again, huh, Tomoko? You know, if you gave up that silly job at the bookstore and came to work for me, I’d be happy to hire you! I’d even train you personally! So, what do you say?” She coaxed, waving my bagel in the air as if it were a prize for my obedience.

With a less than sincere smile, I shook my head and snatched my bagel from her before she could steal any more of my borrowed time. “Thanks but no thanks. I’m perfectly happy where I am—”

     “But Tomoko—”

     “NOW IF YOU’LL EXCUSE ME,” I called concludingly, handing her the exact amount I owed. I don’t have time to waste, after all! Mrs. A glanced over it passingly as I gathered my bagel and tea and turned to leave. I was halfway to the door when she called out my name again. 

     “Tomoko, you’re short 10¥! Don’t tell me those monsters at the bookstore aren’t paying you enough,” she called with an expression somewhere between sadness and teasing. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth before I burst out laughing. 

     “Here, Mrs. A,” I choked out between giggles as I walked back to her counter and put my tea down. Pulling out the last bit of change I owed and handing it to her, I shook my head with a warm smile, “You are too much, Mrs. A.” 

     “Well thank you! You know, it takes a lot out of an old woman to worry, Tomoko,” she finished putting the change in its proper drawer. I tilted my head, not knowing what she meant. “Tomoko, I worry when you don’t have that bright smile on your face, so please, for my sake smile like you always do. Okay?” Her words almost brought a tear to my eyes… almost. “And if that stupid Jun keeps being mean to you, you just tell me and I’ll sneak some revenge for you! You know though, if you came and worked for me you’d never have to deal with that. You can always come work for me,” she sang as I turned, shaking my head and laughing.

      I had just closed my eyes to blink, my legs had just taken a step, and my mouth had just begun to say, “Mrs. A. you are crazy,” when I collided with “him,” the cause of this whole mess. I’m sure he is the root of all this… this change! He has to be. It wasn’t until I collided with “him” that everything began to change. Speaking of him, I’m not quite sure how to describe him. In all truth, I didn’t really get a good look. I was so peeved about not only wasting part of my brunch but having it and some straight black coffee spilled on me that I stormed out before he could even say anything. Wow, I didn’t even apologize. I mean, technically I bumped into him because I wasn’t watching where I was going; I even spilled most of my tea and his coffee on him. (Groan) I’m the worst. I’m pretty sure he was gonna say something too, but all I can remember are his eyes; those unusual, shining emerald eyes. And how crazy tall he was. I swear though, those eyes of his pierced through my soul the second I spent actually looking into them. Maybe he cast a spell on me… who knows?

     Ever since then, things haven’t been the same. It must be him causing all these strange anomalies. It has to be! I’ve had this strange feeling that maybe us colliding that day was fate or destiny, but that could just be my lack of sleep, and extreme love for fantasy, talking. Either way, thanks to “him” I’ve been completely useless at everything. Sigh, I just wish this stupid snow would stop falling already. I want the warmth of spring and summer to come washing back over this cold existence people call “Winter.”

     I just hope this helps me get back to something close to normal. In the meantime, I think I’ll sign off and get some rest. I’ve spent way too much time writing this little story. Sigh, maybe I’ll come back to it if something else strange happens… I doubt it though. I feel more like myself now that I got that off my chest. Alright, that’s it, tomorrow I’m going to wake up on time, eat breakfast like I normally do, and be productive at work!

[otomechuchu]

My Horse Prince - Personal walkthrough, all the answers per chapter

I don’t know if you remember this game, but My Horse Prince was released back in Dec 2016. 

I wrote this down back then, but never really posted it (like with lots of walkthroughs I’ve made, most of them I just keep to myself).

When the game first launched, there were only 10 chapters. And then in 2017, they added a few more chapters!

NOTE: Do tell me if I missed some questions!

Want to support the blog? Feel free to Become a Patron for as little as $1/month~   Or Buy me a coffee ~

Check out my other walkthroughs here

PLEASE DON’T STEAL, COPY OR POST ELSEWHERE.

Some tips: 

Bad answers = 0 Good answers = 15 Excellent answers = 30

80-100% gives the “best” animation. Afterwards the animations are showing how tired he is. 

Energy % will determine how many points you get per “item”. (like carrot, leek, treadmill, etc).

Each chapter has its own set of questions, related to what happened in the story chapter, so you won’t get the same questions throughout the whole game.

Album - Re-read all the chapters whenever you want. However you can not do the “training”, so you won’t be able to see those animations (which are very funny).

Shop - buy items, like Golden Carrot or remove ads.

The answers below are the ones that are Excellent. You cna try out the other ones if you want to see his reaction, but they will give less points.

Episode 1 – The First Gallop

What’s the weather going to be like tomorrow?

I think it’s going to rain.

Do you like ranches?

I do!

Do you want to rain with me?

I’ll cheer you on!

I like your hair like that

Thanks! 

I feel so relaxed when I’m with you.

Thanks!

Do you like dogs or cats?

Cats

What do you think about carrots?

I like their orange color

Episode 2 – Treadmill Training

What color horse do you like?

White

How did you get to the ranch?

Bicycle 

Do you want to train with me?

I’ll cheer you on!

I like your hair like that

Thanks!

Episode 3 – The Morning Feed

What do you like in miso soup?

Carrots

That reminds me… the light bulb in the hallway has burnt out.

I think we have another one somewhere…

Do you know what happened to the pudding in the fridge?

It was really good! You picked a good one!

Wanna go somewhere together today?

Theme park

How about bread for breakfast tomorrow?

I like both bread and rice

What kind of fruit do you want this morning?

Carrot

Episode 4 – Street Corner Steed

Having to work is really hard.

It is really hard.

Have your clothes gotten dirty?

I’ve been christened!

“If a man will not work, he shall not eat.” Right?

Yeah, you have to make your own way!

Do you think doing radio calisthenics at work is important?

I used to do that when I was younger.

I want to take you to my favorite store

Somewhere that sells horseshoes?

What do you do after work? 

Work late

Ow! I think I but my hoof!

Want me to kiss it better?

Sweat is a medal of honor.

Guys who work are really hot

Episode 5 – Wave Jumps

I can see a boat on the horizon.

That’s Poseidon

The sun is really strong today.

It feels like summer!

What reminds you of summer?

Fireworks 

I can hear the waves

That’s the sound of the tide.

If you could take one thing with you to a deserted island, what would it be?

A pillow 

Do you prefer mountains or beaches?

Mountains.

Let’s go somewhere together.

How embarrassing…

I heard some guys are trying to pick up on the other side of the beach

I like guys like that

Episode 6 – Trial Fanfare

What do you think of how I run?

You run well

I can’t… go on…

Just one more lap!

I like racing with obstacles.

It looks really hard to race like that

Do you think I can win?

Of course you can win!

Do you prefer dirt or grass?

Grass

Would you go on a date to a racecourse?

Yes

This is my first race, so I'm pretty nervous 

Me too!

I didn't sleep last night so I'm really run down today... 

You can't sleep now

Episode 7 – Wild Whinny

Do you think music can change the world?

My world has changed!

Which member do you like the best?

OJISAN

Let’s sing a duet on stage?

OK, let’s do it!

What kind of music do you normally listen to!?

Fanfare

I'll show everyone mt sweet guitar skills

You can play guitar?

And the next song is…

Midnight Cowboy

You feeling this?

Wooo!

I'll never stop singing! 

Yeah, keep going! 

What's most important to you!? 

Myself

Episode 8 – Street Corner Cavalletti

We must fight against evil.

We have to fight one thing at a time.

The stars look nice tonight.

They’re really pretty

You shouldn’t come to these kinds of places alone, they’re dangerous!

Sorry

I actually don't like fighting 

Just kick him for me!

The city is so busy

It’s actually a pretty good place

It’s dangerous here. I’ll take you home

Can I ride you? 

What are you doing here?

Playing on my phone

Call me if you’re ever in trouble, OK?

OK, I will

Episode 9 – Riding Rivals

What if I lose to Ryouma…”

Stop being such a sissy!

I feel a storm coming.

Sounds like fun

What do you want to do in the future? 

I like things the way they are now

I feel like something bad will happen here…

Yeah, it’s scary!

I'd protect you form a meteorite, you know 

You can't do that

Do you think Ryouma is good-looking?

He’s not as handsome as you

What would you do it I went away…?

Wait for you to come back

I want to give you a ride 

I'd be afraid of falling off

Episode 10 – Stakes of Glory

What’s the track condition like today?

Focus on the race!

I won’t let that suspicious horse anywhere near you, [NAME]!

Please keep me safe!

Have you ridden a horse before?

I’ll just use my intuition

Are you used to the feel to riding now?

I could fall asleep

It’s fun racing with you on board

I’m having fun too!

Your weight…

I-I lost weight

I wouldn’t mind coming in last because I got to ride with you…

We have to come in first

NEW CHAPTERS!

Episode 11 – Leisurely Amble

Do you want to go anywhere?

The Arc de Triomphe

Did the race tire you out?

It was fun!

Want to come to mine?

If you win the next race.

There aren’t many female jockeys so I think you’ll be popular.

Let’s become popular together

Let me know if you ever need help, okay?

Alright, I will

I just saw a bug!

Eeeek!

You’re pretty cute, you know.

Th- thank you…

Do you feel ready to be a jockey?

I’ve always felt ready

Episode 12 – White Turf

The snow melting makes me want to…

Love you

This snowscape is beautiful…

I’m prettier

I guess it is a little cold here…

I’m cold, too

I have to keep practicing

Yeah, you do

I’d like some warm soup after I finish training

Carrot potage? 

Make sure you don’t fall down

Should I grab onto you?

Skiing’s fun!

I can ski a little

I love seeing snow

Me too!

Episode 13 – Lone Sprinter

Is [NAME] waiting for me…?

It doesn’t’ matter either way

What should I do so that [NAME ] will forgive me?

Find her

I can hear [NAME]’s voice…

“Run faster!”

If I give up now…

No… I can’t give up

I’m running out of energy…

Keep running

I wonder if she’s still angry…

She’s still angry

I can’t see because of the blizzard…

Close your eyes

I feel tired…

Sleep is for the weak!

Episode X – Endless Circling

Extra chapter with both old and new questions. 

What would you do if we couldn’t leave?

That would be terrible

[NAME], do you get a lot of attention?

I’m the poster girl for the unpopular kid

I have a spare key to my stable… Do you want it?

You really trust me! 

Want to support the blog? Feel free to Become a Patron for as little as $1/month~   Or Buy me a coffee ~

Check out my other walkthroughs here

[kriskebob-blog]

Day 1, Part 1: Me vs. the grocery store

Hi again. It was really nice to hear from some of my friends and family in response to my post last night! I’m really excited to know that some people are down to read my long-ass posts about plants. I’ve also had several people offer me cookbook suggestions or even offer to have me plunder their own stash. Thanks for being my enablers, guys! (No seriously, thank you, I love you all sm.) Also, I can now reveal that my grandma texted me this morning to confirm she did indeed read my first post to its end. She’s the best!!!! This blog is rapidly evolving into a dual-purpose food/my grandma fan page and I can’t be sorry for it. 

So it’s Friday afternoon as I write this but the day I’ll be writing about is actually Wednesday. Can you tell it took me a little while to get going with the actual blogging part of this project? Anywho, I woke up Wednesday and after taking some time to wake up with a coffee, I flipped open my shiny new How Not to Die cookbook to the pages with the 2-week meal plan. I scanned the lists of recipes, already nervous. There were so many listed for every single day. I’m used to preparing dinner each night and eating leftovers for my lunches. For years my tried-and-true breakfast almost every single day has been two hard-boiled eggs and a piece of toast. So I’m really only used to having to prepare a fully involved meal once a day. You wanted to do this, I reminded myself. You have the summer off. You have the time! Trying to calm my nerves, I opened up the notes app on my laptop and began typing the names of the suggested recipes. There are no page numbers referenced on the meal plan pages, which would have made things a lot easier, just sayin’, Dr. Greger! I found the recipes and opened the grocery list Google Doc I’ve shared with my husband since we moved in together. I started typing up a shopping list. 

This was more than 48 hours ago at this point, but luckily I did stop to write down some initial thoughts. I shall share them with you now, verbatim: 

How the f@#! am I going to buy everything we need for all this? How will it fit in my fridge? Will I spend literally all day prepping all of this? Am I even going to be able to find everything I need for these recipes? 

...

16 recipes compared to my normal 4, MAYBE 5. Eating this way is obviously the vanity project of the wealthy wtf

...

It’s only two weeks. I can spend 2374623645 dollars on food for just half a month right? right?? It’s normal to spend money on hobbies? Gah

...

What the hell is date sugar?

...

I am definitely using vanilla extract instead of buying a giant vanilla bean Fresh turmeric? Where would even sell that? Ground sounds just fine to me

I noted that I began this process at 8:55. At 9:21 I wrote:

I give up… because I can already tell I’m going to be buying WAY too much produce to fit into my crisper drawer. The original plan had been to stock up enough stuff to carry me through until Monday but I can see now that’s just not going to be realistic at all. I’ll stock up on enough stuff to get me through to Friday night. I don’t want to grocery shop on the weekend if I can help it. I’ll just go again on Friday. Then I’ll probably have to go again on Monday, maybe Tuesday if I’m lucky. That’ll be three grocery store stock-ups in one week. I wanted a hobby, didn’t I?? Time to go back and redo my list to only reflect recipes for the next three days then.

I put a break in my recipes list. Alright. That brings me from 16 recipes to 8. Feels much more manageable. I look at the huge list of ingredients I amassed on my Google doc and decide it’d be easier to just delete it and restart from scratch than go through and try to remember what I now do and don’t need. 9:30.

9:45 - done. Still a LONG list. This is only for 2 days plus a dinner. But to be fair I did include stuff for a couple of desserts.

I’m a tad concerned by how none of these recipes call for ANY salt.

I was more than a tad concerned, actually. But I had my mission lined out. It was time to head to Big Y. 

Of the common local grocery store chains in Connecticut, Big Y is probably the nicest one. My husband and I used to frequent Stop & Shop but we stopped because the produce kind of sucked and anyhow the set-up of Big Y is a lot more appealing. I drove on over to the Ellington Big Y, hopeful that I’d be able to find the majority of the items I needed, but also aware that I’d probably end up at Whole Foods later that day. 

I’d been so focused on getting together my massive shopping list and hustling out to the store that I hadn’t attended to my basic personal needs with as much care as usual. I realized two things almost immediately as I crossed the parking lot: I kinda had to pee, and I was also sort of thirsty/hungry. Should I get a lemonade or something from the cafe? I wondered briefly then decided against it. I’d be fine til I got home, surely. 

Needless to say, I spent a lot of time in the produce section. I bagged up two heads of lettuce and an even bigger head of red kale. I bought the biggest container of baby spinach they had and then also the biggest bag of regular spinach. Cilantro and parsley. Scallions. And that was just from the greens section! I was already tired by the time I got to the natural foods section, and I had only shopped for stuff whose location I already knew. 

I spent some time figuring out which seeds/nuts I needed that Big Y sold by the weight. It’s a really convenient and cool system, except the stupid sticker-printing machine is sort of finicky. I must have spent a solid ten minutes before I had the correct amount of almonds, cashews, pumpkin seeds, etc. Okay. Now I needed to look for some stuff that I genuinely had no idea where exactly it might be. I knew they likely were somewhere in this natural foods section, I just didn’t know where. Stuff like hemp hearts and nutritional yeast (sounded gross but it was called for in quite a few recipes). I found them eventually. Cool. Now I needed canned tomatoes and beans, but Dr. Gregor really wanted me to be sure I bought cans without a BPA liner. Seriously? Was that really going to be the thing that would make or break if I lived to see 100? But I didn’t want to half-ass the Dr. Gregor lifestyle. It was only for two weeks, after all. After way too much time studying the shelves of tomatoes and beans, I ended up with two cans of diced tomato that cost twice as much as the brand I normally purchased... and the same exact generic brand of beans I normally went for, because none of the beans at Big Y seemed to be BPA free. Whatever. I was hungrier and grumpier by the minute. I wanted to stuff something into my mouth full of sugar and gluten and whatever other chemicals were out to kill me, stat. Almost done. Just had to find frozen okra (vegan gumbo, y’all! Stay tuned), and also miso. I wasn’t too worried about the miso. Big Y has a decent Asian foods aisle... one that I paced up and down at least four times before accepting that they didn’t seem to have miso. They also didn’t have date sugar, a key ingredient to a no-bake brownies recipe I wanted to try. I have a major sweet tooth (can you tell?) and the idea of two weeks without chocolate bars or ice cream was something I refused to entertain without some sort of chocolate dessert option. Okay. No miso, no date sugar. I also hadn’t been able to find “whole wheat tortillas - no salt added” anywhere in the store. So, I’d be going to Whole Foods. I had figured as much. 

I checked out with a whopper of a bill and tried not to die too much inside at the fact that this was only two and a half day’s worth of groceries. After all, I had needed to stock up on several crunchy hippie type pantry items I hadn’t already owned. Thank god I already had a pretty sizable spice collection or my bill would have been even higher. I tried not to think of how this wasn’t even everything on my list. Not only did I still need to go to Whole Foods, but I needed to go to the farm stand. 

Shout-out to Johnny Appleseed’s Farm in Ellington. Sam and I love them, and they love us back! Okay, they love Sam back because he told them once that he had gone onto Google and fixed an incorrect listing stating they were permanently closed. They really love Sam for that. They have no idea who I am unless I walk in with him. But that’s okay. Every late July through October, Sam and I buy as much of our produce as possible from Johnny Appleseed’s. I stopped over there to load up on tomatoes, onions, peppers, carrots, and an ungodly amount of zucchini. The woman ringing me out seemed amused. “Lots of squash,” she commented. “What’re you cooking?” I stared at her, trying to remember. The recipe planning I’d done only a couple hours ago already seemed such a blur. “Zoodles,” I managed finally. “You know, like when you try to pretend you’re eating pasta but it’s actually vegetables?” She chuckled and nodded. “You make your own sauce from scratch too?” “Usually,” I told her, feeling a sudden pang of longing for a nice meaty bolognese. Wow, I really wasn’t going to be cut out for this meatless life for long. I told her goodbye and got into my car. It was sweltering outside and 10x worse inside my black interior car. I now definitely needed to pee and I was starving. Home couldn’t come fast enough. 

Of course, before I could eat my lunch I had to go through the battle of trying to fit all of this produce into my refrigerator. Even with the clearing out of the usual cartons of eggs and older produce that I’d tossed earlier that morning, it was definitely a game of Tetris trying to fit all of the extremely perishable items I’d just purchased into my fridge. I didn’t even entertain the thought of trying to fit all the vegetables in the crisper. Just to fit them in the fridge itself was an accomplishment. Thank god I hadn’t been quite stupid enough to try to buy enough groceries to last us through Monday. Dear lord, I was really going to have to go back in two days and do this again? You chose this, you chose this I sang to myself repeatedly in my head as I grabbed the container of my last non-vegan meal for two weeks: zucchini turkey meatballs, romano cheese, and marinara sauce over spaghetti. It was damned good. This is still healthy, isn’t it? Do I definitely have to give up cheese, Dr. Gregor? 

Now came the time for my final real dessert of the next two weeks. Something I end up binging on far too often when Sam leaves me at home unsupervised for too long: Aurora honey nut granola with chocolate chips mixed in. It’s so good!!! And I definitely went especially overboard that day knowing it was my last sugar binge for awhile. 

Alright. It was time to head to Whole Foods. The closest one to me is in Glastonbury and a solid 25 minute drive away. The air felt heavy and oppressive as I headed out into the heat. Ominous dark clouds hung low in the sky. I could feel the nasty air pressure in the depths of my sinuses. Blah. Almost done, I told myself. The parking lot at Whole Foods was mobbed. Why are so many people out on a random Wednesday afternoon, I grumped to myself as I narrowly avoided running over a perfectly nice young family (sorry, strangers!!) and found myself a spot. I walked inside and immediately started rubbing my arms up and down. It was freezing. One thing I love about Big Y is that they keep a lot of their refrigerated items behind doors. I forget how cold other grocery stores are. 

I don’t go to Whole Foods very often. I knew where the ethnic condiments were but had no clue where I might find “whole wheat tortillas, no salt added.” I wandered the entire length of the store twice over and finally found a small selection. They really didn’t have much to offer in the way of wraps. Too many carbs for the Whole Foods shopping crowd, I guess? I settled for normal whole wheat tortillas that did indeed have salt as an ingredient. What do you want me to do, Dr. Gregor? I’m only one person. I at least then found the date sugar no problem. Okay. Cool. Only the miso left. 

I wandered into the Asian condiments aisle... and essentially repeated the same pacing act I’d done at Big Y, except I went back and forth even more times because I had a hard time processing that Whole Foods wouldn’t have what I needed. I mean, they’ve got some weird stuff there! They have like 5 different brands of ghee! Miso sounded like such a basic Asian condiment to me. We’ve all heard of miso soup, no? But it was nowhere to be found. Ugh. Fine. I’ll go to the Asian market in East Hartford. It’s not that far from here anyways, I tried to reassure myself. I could feel a sugar crash hitting my bloodstream. I wanted a juicebox and a nap. 

I checked out and made my way to Je Mart. I wandered up and down their aisles and couldn’t seem to find miso there either. It finally occurred to me that I was obviously missing something here. Like I really should have done at Big Y in the first place, I pulled out my phone and Googled “Where do I buy miso in the store?” Within 5 seconds I realized I’d been looking in the wrong spots of the stores the entire time. Miso isn’t a bottled or jarred condiment like Sriracha or curry paste. It’s actually sold in plastic tubs in the refrigerated section. Look near the tofu, the infinite wisdom of the Internet advised. I turned around and what do you know, literally right behind me was the refrigerated section with the tofu. And within five seconds I spotted it: a tub of miso!!! I grabbed at it ecstatically and scanned the label. Was this the white miso that Dr. Gregor had specifically demanded? It didn’t specify, but it looked pale enough for me. And it was only $5 for a pretty decent sized tub. I handed my money gleefully to the cashier and went on my way. Finally. 

I got home and put away my new purchases. It was about 2:20pm and I was beyond exhausted. I really shouldn’t have eaten that much granola, I thought morosely as I flopped onto the couch. I wanted to rewatch Forks Over Knives (it’s on Netflix!). If I started now it would end right around 4, a good time to start trying to actually prepare some of the meals I’d worked so hard all the day just to shop for. 

I’m not saying that I napped for the entire documentary because I definitely didn’t. I remember some parts of it. But can I guarantee I didn’t nap at all? No, no I cannot. 

This was another long post, so obviously I’m going to need to give us all a break and stop here before going on to Part 2, in which I’ll finally talk about cooking and eating these recipes. These first couple of posts have really just been a lot of exposition, I promise I’m going to get to the meat of the plot soon! (pun intended) 

For now, here’s a picture of the miso I drove all over the state searching for before finally acquiring for the very reasonable price of $5 (fyi - Big Y does have miso but it’s red miso and it’s $7 so I guess all’s well that ends well): 

[italicwatches]

Magical Girl Ore - Episode 02

Let the escalator continue. It’s Magical Girl Ore, episode 02! Here we GO!

-We begin right where we left off, with jacked teddy bears wanting Mohiro, and Saki-kun very confused about her newly jacked body. Ko-san just gives her a THUMBS UP.

-Opening! I wonder if that rival idol girl duo will turn into magical girls too.

-Episode 02! Magical Girl - Ore

-Saki-kun immediately grapples up Ko-san AND WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?! He tries to act cutesy, which does not work, but look. A big jacked man body is the best fighting form. But you gotta be cute, so the clothes! THIS IS NOT THE STACKED SHE WANTED! On the other hand, those demons are gonna steal Mohiro away if she does nothing…So…

-What to do…What to do…How to handle this…

-Saki-kun can only laugh and cry, and introduce herself as the magical girl of justice. This is hell. But as the first demon comes, her body blocks its strikes with ease! These muscles, this power…STRIKE! LEG THROW! Her body is as the gods of old, forged in steel and dreams! She can fight!

-There’s just one problem. She’s facing a small army here. Shouldn’t she have some kind of magic?! Yep, it’s in your hairpins. Throw them! So Saki-kun obeys…And they bounce off of the demons…Are they full of exorcism power or some—

-EXPLOSION

-They’re magical grenades! …Saki-Kin is terrified. Do you have anything less conspicuous? How about his magical handgun? Unlimited ammo, no bandana required. SOMETHING LESS YAKUZA ESQUE PLEASE! Well aren’t you picky. But fine, to the bag of tricks! He’s got a real classic!

-A magical staff! Wrapped like an illegal gun, naturally. But Saki-kun can use this! Her magic will change this world! Prepare yourself, demons! They’re prepared. …Ko-san, how does she use the staff? It’s literally just a staff. Beat their skulls in with it. So take initiative and fight hard! Terrifyingly hard!

-Saki-kun fights, tears in her eyes, until there is no more fighting to be done. When it’s over, she is covered in blood, the pile of gore is so terrible it has to be censored, and she is in despair. This is even worse than the idol world! Also there’s still Mohiro. Who can’t stop eyeing Saki-kun. And then, he blushes. Well that does explain why he’s not into Saki-chan…

-He’s also being very shy and quiet as he asks the name of this noble hero who saved him. Saki-kun can’t give her actual name, that’ll give away her secret…So all she can do is say “I am me” in masculine dialect, and Mohiro actually accepts it. And keeps looking back to Saki-kun as he heads off.

-Which is when Sakuyo and the manager finally arrive, and Saki-kun is in a panic! SHE HAS BEEN DISCOVERED! Why are they here?! How long have they been here?! No, focus, focus, Mohiro bought it, she can totally sell the—

-Sakuyo figured it out in two seconds. They followed Saki when she came sprinting out of her house, and saw everything, including the transformation. And the manager…Is in noble tears of this display of love and magical girl power! He’s been a magical girl nerd since he was but a tiny boy, and now he gets to meet and manage one! He’ll have your back, Saki-kun!!! This was not the plan. This was NOT THE PLAN!

-Work hard as an idol, and a magical girl, Saki! Well, um, er, you see…She can’t just…I mean, look at this jacked body…

-Oh Sakuyo is looking.

-This WAS NOT THE PLAN! Also her manager wants to figure out a new name for her! Magical Girl Saki won’t work…Fuck it, you’re Magical Girl Ore! Really sell the yin-yang nature of your cute charm versus your explosive power! So, Saki-kun is the confused…And now it’s time to celebrate! Beer for him, juice for you two! In that moment, Saki realized she was doomed.

-While a mysterious figure watches, eager to see what this new magical girl can do…

-New scene! It’s a new morning, and Saki is totally drained from a total lack of sleep, but she’s back to normal…And her mother has made her a refreshing breakfast. There is an entire tray of delicious breakfast miso soup hanging from her neck, which she gobbles down on the way to see Sakuyo.

-But she gets there early enough to see Mohiro! Sexy, sexy Mohiro! Thank you, god of early awakening! Okay, she can talk to him! She has to talk to him! She can’t even show her face, hiding behind a pole. Because what if he finds out that she’s Magical Girl Ore?! No, he’s deeply oblivious. She’ll probably be fine. And if he figures it out, she’ll kill herself. Alright, cool, plan for both outcomes, and STRI—

-His partner has shown up. There goes all her attempts in a shot! Back OFF, guy! But he spots her, gives her a grin, and hauls Mohiro right off…

-Which is when Sakuyo spots her, and Saki’s forced to give a good morning to Sakuyo, to Mohiro, and even Hyoe-san, who she would rather like to die and never be heard from again. But what brought him out so early? Well, he and Mohiro have so very many things to get done today, so he came to fetch his sleepy partner himself! SHE WILL KILL YOU!

-And he reveals that Mohiro is a bit scared of Saki, and he’s…Very quiet during this whole argument. Saki is very strongly considering murder. And Sakuyo finally decides to ask how long Saki’s wanted to bone her brother. …As long as she’s known him. That gentle but spacy nature of him…And that time when he saved them when they were lost in the woods…She’s wanted to make that up to him ever since, to protect him…

-Of course, all Sakuyo remembers that day is how hard she was freaking out, and how Saki was comforting her and keeping her stable until her brother found them…And she, she can’t root for these two to get together…! She’s got to go! Go on ahead without her, she’ll catch up, Saki! And then Saki falls into despair, feeling like Sakuyo can’t forgive this indiscretion into her family…!

-Which is Ko-san starts trying to get her attention as she’s battering her head into a pole, and…Oh my god he has a mascot size. Oh my god he’s tiny. SO TINY. But he still has his normal head and it’s kind of creepy! DON’T CALL HIM CREEPY! I do what I want, mascot boy.

-Look, he worked so hard to be a cuter little mascot that Saki could carry around! But also, look, there’s a demon coming. …AND IT WANTS MOHIRO AGAIN?! Jeez, this guy is a prime target alright…They went as soon as Mohair’s partner stepped away for two seconds…

-SAKI WON’T LET THAT STAND! She sprints off in a fury, intending to save her precious Mohiro-chan!!! With that declaration, she transforms, and instead of Saki-chan’s slow feminine gait, it’s Saki-kun’s furious athletic sprint! They’re able to get into the line of fire ahead of schedule, to head it off before it can find Mohiro…

-And they discover a jacked teddy bear doing Ursula cosplay. This was not the plan. It’s even creepier than you! FUCK YOU ROOKIE! But, fine! Ko-san, her weapon!

-He thought they’d be good for like a week so he didn’t bring any.

-WHAT?!

-Fine. Guess she’s doing this bare-knuckled! And it comes fast…And grapples Saki-kun immediately! Use your hips! Use, that, booty! Saki-kun has no room to do anything of the sort…And then it goes for her strawberry panties! This is the worst! Is this how she dies, the heroine of this story destroyed in episode two—

-But that’s when Sakuyo rips a tentacle off! She, she can’t bear to see you hurt…If you intend to protect her brother, she’ll protect YOU! Sakuyo, no! Don’t put yourself in danger! Escape! Saki-kun will fight…And thank you, thank you for this support…

-Sakuyo is moved to tears…And Ko-san gets a feeling. This girl…She’s got love power off the charts! A crush she’s held in for as long as Saki! YOU, big tits! You can FIGHT! Cry out your love, and save her!

-In a flash of blue and a vicious chop, the tentacles are severed…And Sakuyo-kun declares, her, love, for SAKI!!! Saki-kun is the confused. And the mysterious figure watches…

-Credits!

And then there were two…And the dynamic just got, shall we say, complicated. How will Saki deal with this declaration of love from her longtime friend? How will Sakuyo deal with the ramifications? Can they love each other in their magical girl forms? And what of Mohiro, and his growing crush on the warrior for justice who saved his life? We have lots of questions and few answers…But we’ll just have to see how things settle next time, in episode THREE of Magical Girl Ore! Wait for it!

[zee-cupcakes-personal-blog]

Present Mic x Reader: Refrain

1 Backlash / 2 Repeat / (3 Refrain)

Summary: I have a new format! It’s been a week since you first met Yamada and for the first time he gets some insight about why you want to be a vigilante.

    Saturday went by in a blur because you were so exhausted. Tired, but content for the first time in days, getting to sleep once you had gotten back was a near impossible feat. A part of you still wondered if Present Mic would stick to his original promise that no one would come after you. He may have only meant it if you had decided to join the side of heroes or… Whatever.

The thought made you shudder.

      When you finally finished your next day you felt a breath of fresh air, and felt your body finally give into the physical and emotional fatigue you had endured over the past week. Sunday morning you opened your eyes with a joyful hum. No Pro’s pounding at your door! Mic seemed to be a lot of things, and being a stand-up guy was one of them! You wouldn’t have anything to worry about on your day off- and it felt nice to relax in your apartment where you were safe once more.

      You ate breakfast fit for royalty and slowly regarded your books across from the table… The books and the paper scratched with the phone number on top of it.

      You could still see the bright green sharpie-marker from over your miso soup. Yamada Hizashi: “Text me!” Even when he wasn’t on the radio or right there; you could still hear him yelling. Yamada… That was his surname. You hadn’t really cared enough to learn the names of heroes before. In fact, you avoided them any time you had the chance.

      In your years of being a vigilante; you knew that when heroes were coming it was game-over. You had to bolt out of there as fast as you could. That may be why most of your vigilantism was based more in stopping crimes before, but not AS they were happening.

      Speaking of which… You looked to your closet where the various items of your disguise hung dutifully together, ready to be adorned for another justice-serving romp. Honestly though, the sentiment was all gone. You’d have to incorporate the individual pieces into other outfits if need be.

      It was still sort of sad, though, and it was a huge bummer to look at when you couldn’t really do anything.

      You let out a groan and moved your way to your computer. Your life was changing too fast… Perhaps you couldn’t go bringing the fight to criminals anymore, but that had nothing to do with dropping tips to the authorities… Surely, that was just being a Good Samaritan! Your fingers glided skillfully over your pc’s keyboard visiting all the usual sites you hit up in order to get in on some tips.

 You also, idly turned on the radio.

      You had grown more used being on in the last week and you saw no harm in keeping that habit, you’d have loads of free time now. Besides, it was easier than opening up a music or news streaming service while you searched for… Something productive to do online. You scrolled and made a few mental notes of a few suspect chats, a few strange but ultimately unrelated hypothetical posts, but there was… Surprisingly very little. It was as if all the active forums and chats had just… Stopped.

      You closed your eyes and leaned back, looking back over to your outfit, then back to the radio. The sound of a bubbly pop song was playing as you thought about early Saturday morning.

“Why aren’t you a hero?... Cause’, personally, I thinkyou would be a great hero.”

      If only it were that simple…

 “You’re making a mistake.”

      You were doing what was best for you.

 “Imagine what would have happened if I hadn’t been in that shopping center on Sunday.”

      The villains probably would have made off with a fairly sizable amount of cash. Probably. Though, Snipe was nearly on his way. He probably would have gotten them first, he had a pretty effective hit ratio.

      Yes. You were certain everything would have been fine.

      Suddenly the joyous J-pop song screeched to an electric halt as a pre-recorded announcer calmly spoke into the Microphone.

“We interrupt this program to bring you a news alert as Pro Heroes frantically attempt to evacuate a local neighborhood in central Tokyo. A small group of villains have immolated a large portion of the neighborhood- their motives yet unclear- as Heroes from the surrounding area are pulling help and resources from the surrounding area including U.A. Highschool.”

      … What?

      “This message will repeat. All current citizens within the sector are instructed to please proceed calmly to the ends of the streets where a rescue Hero shall escort you safely to shelter. If anyone has any information regarding the attack, please, contact local authorities at-“

      They were pulling teachers from U.A? Surely that meant that Present Mic… “Yamada” would be there.

      A shiver made its way down your spine.

      Other heroes would be there, too. This is what they did for a living, they’d all be fine. He’d be fine.

      You placed your hand over your chest, realizing immediately you had done so because your chest was beating in frantic worry… They’d be fine. The Citizens would be fine. You weren’t needed… Everything was going to be fine.

      But what if it wasn’t going to be fine?

      Could you live with yourself knowing you did nothing? Knowing that people would get hurt- people would probably die?... Could you live with yourself knowing you had done nothing? Especially if it had been someone you knew?

      “You’re making a mistake.”

      You looked over at your outfit one last time. The way that it sat patiently on your closet door almost made it seem sentient. It called to you, begged you to take action, somehow. Surely you could slip in and out of the affected area just to check on everyone without them noticing?

 “… Imagine what would have happened…”

      No. No you promised… He had been, all things considering, very sparing on your proclivity to break the rules… But WHY were you so uncomfortable?

      You held your phone in front of you and looked at the number.

      To: Yamada

“I got your note.

Heard they were pulling UA teachers to help with that fire. You okay?

Please text back when you get this. I heard it’s really bad on the news.”

      Now all that was left to do was wait. Wait and hoped he’d text back… You could do that, right? Well, certainly you could. Your phone lit up moments later and you jumped on it practically like a cat does a mouse.

      From: Yamada

“   :D”

“Refrain!”

“:V  I Can’t text now. TTYL!”

 You let out a groan as he sent a small stream of texts your way… Called you Refrain… He was dead-set on that, wasn’t he?

      To: Yamada

“Do you need me to come and help?

      Augh. No. That was a bad message.

      To: Yamada

“Do you want me to run by?

      No, somehow that was even worse.

      To: Yamada

“I’m heading that way. Do you need me to get you anything for when you get out?”

      Without noticing you had gotten up and begun dressing yourself in your vigilante outfit- but you denied yourself the convenience of your wig and your gear. Not a vigilante. Not a vigilante… You looked over at the phone- it hadn’t gone off yet.

      Maybe you needed a few bottles of water… And some burn gel… Surely that’d be enough. For now, right?

        Hizashi had gotten your text and smiled mirthfully at his phone as he placed it back into his pocket… Only to be met with the reality that was the hellish inferno he was standing in right now. He let out a scoffing sort of sound as he placed the portable oxygen tank to his mouth and inhaled.

      Today had, honestly, turned rather sour. Saturday was his one scheduled “Day off” and here the villains went making a mess of things… Ahhh, but you had texted him. Finally. Maybe “Returning Hero” was a good name for you. Maybe. He’d have to wait and see if you came running into the fray clad in your home made costume.

      God, what was he going to tell Eraser?... What was he going to tell Midnight? That this person was a vigilante fighting on the side of the heroes—but they had saved him last week; so they were cool. Hah… He could practically feel Eraser’s death-glare and Midnight’s signature thumb-of-approval. Hahhhhhhhhh….

      Right, fantasize about this later. He was a pro with a job to do, and standing around like he was waiting for you wasn’t going to make the neighborhood any LESS evacuated or any less villain-free.

      Hah. Present Mic couldn’t imagine… You showing up to make sure he was okay, despite telling him you’d hang up your cape.

      Ah. One could dream, right?

        You couldn’t believe you were doing this!

      Even after you said you wouldn’t…. Here you were running from rooftop to roof-top in an attempt to avoid the crowded car and foot traffic below- using Backlash to bounce in between the allies you couldn’t cross on your own… This was taking a lot more out of you than originally anticipated- though you couldn’t help but feel a little exhilarated being back in your costume and on your way to help Yamada.

      Right. Just… Think about him as a person. Not a hero- he was a good person. A good person you were helping. Or checking in on. YEAH! That worked. You were just checking in on him!... Carrying five bottles of water, burn-gel, bandages, aloe, and other various medical supplies in your bag as you looked onward into the smoking neighborhood… And a small sugary snack…. Just in case.

      You took a moment to pause, let Backlash recharge and contemplate your most recent of life choices. What… Were you doing? It would have been so much easier to stand aside and let him do his job- see him after the fact. This may be giving him the wrong impression on how you view yourself as a hero…

      Hm… Well. He did just GIVE you his phone number to text. Maybe some of the miscommunication wasn’t all on you—no. Scratch that. It definitely was not just your fault… Speaking of communication; you figured now would be a good time to check your phone for any messages back.

      Nope. Not a single one.

      You felt your chest let out an involuntary sigh as you plopped yourself down on the roof’s edge… And tossed your wig to the side. No point in getting arrested for looking like a vigilante who just set fire to a neighborhood.

      To: Yamada

“Okay. I’m waiting nearby. Just text me when you’re getting out.”

      After you sent the message you could have sworn you regretted not sending more.

      To: Yamada

“We can still get diner food. If you want.”

        You must have waited… Hours on that rooftop. You couldn’t exactly remember when you had texted him the first time, but when you had finally realized how late it was getting blue skies were turning an orangey-pink. The smoke had died down a significant amount and you spent all that time watching news streams. No one mentioned a hero getting injured, or killed… Or anything.

      So now you just sat there like a fool, feeling guilty for even coming.

      To: Yamada

“Please tell me you’re still alive.”

 You sent that final text as a sort of final reminder to yourself the entire reason you were here was because you just wanted to make sure he was okay. You weren’t expecting a near instantaneous response.

      From: Yamada

“!!! AHHH Refrain!”

“I’m sorry I just got done! D:”

“Please don’t be mad! I just got your texts!”

      A relieved, if not slightly expectant groan worked its way into your mouth.

      From: Yamada

“I can afford another cheat day! :3”

“Should I come to you, or should we meet up somewhere?”

“Your pick. My treat. I made you wait.”

“Sorry about that btw.”

      Well now you felt the bigger fool for coming in your full costume… On foot. There would probably bet little time to run back to your apartment, change and be back without seeming suspicious. Augh… Well. You supposed You could leave your jacket here if need be. This was just an outfit after all.

      To: Yamada

“Let’s meet up. What’s nearby? I’m pretty sure I’ll find something I like no matter where we go…”

“And don’t worry about it.”

        This… Was becoming a disaster.

      “Hey hey, Refrain!” Yamad-… No. Present Mic called you as you entered in the building of the family restaurant. In all fairness you had expected him to look like a Hero. He had just gotten off-duty, after all, but that didn’t mean you were any more equipped to deal with it and it felt… So strange… Because you wanted to see him- and that terrified you.

      But that wasn’t all.

      “Oh, is this your friend?” came another Hero- in their full hero regalia. She was tall, slender but curvaceous in all the right places and made absolutely zero attempt to hide who she was.

      “M-Midnight… And-“ And to her right was someone you’d also recognize… Though he seemed plainly normal at a first glance. That was Eraserhead.

      “In the flesh!” the indigo-haired woman purred. “It’s nice to finally meet Hizashi’s date. He’s been staring at his phone and giggling like crazy since we got here.”

      Your eyes darted to Present Mic who shrugged sheepishly. “I was not giggling.”

      “Yeah,” Eraser said, his tone absolutely monotone. You couldn’t tell if he was bored, irritated or just plain tired… Maybe all three. “You were.”

      “See?” Midnight said. “Oh, but we’re sorry to crash your date. We’ll grab our food and go, but I had to meet this person Yamada’s been talking about all week.”

      You looked perplexed for a moment, and maybe it was plain to see. Midnight tilted her head. Did- did she just call Present Mic Yamada?... “Are… Are you okay? You seem a bit pale.”

      Date?

      “Ah—“ Present Mic reached out to put a hand on your shoulder and lean you towards him. Your heart was racing- but for all the wrong reasons. “Been a stressful day. They’ll feel better after they have some food in them….” You saw him glance to you. “… Right? Seriously, now I’m worried. You okay?”

      Your legs were turning to jello beneath you as your vision began to wobble.

      “Don’t just stand there,” came the sudden voice from between them as Eraser-head grabbed your other shoulder. That made you hold your breath for the longest moment until he had you sitting down in a chair.

      “How long as it been since you’ve eaten?” the dark-clad hero asked. All eyes were on you, and frankly your heartbeat was only making things worse… At this rate it wouldn’t be too long before you were having a full panic attack… What… What was going on?

      You were panicking… You were panicking…

      Wait… You were just… Panicking.

      You swallowed and rubbed your eyes. “I- I I’m sorry…” you said, forcing a smile, despite the fact your heart was still pounding. “I- I was so worried. H-Hizashi didn’t text me for so long. I just—“

      And just like that the tension between the four of you fell exponentially. It even fell in you somewhat when you saw Midnight make a small little “Aw” before she grabbed Eraserhead’s shoulder. “Give them some space Aizawa. They just need to sit down for a moment….” She looked between the three of you. “We’ll go place our order. You two just… Sit here and chat, I think.”

      Sure enough the two of them left- they were still in eye and in earshot- technically, but they were gone. You watched as they contemplated the menu they were looking at before you looked to Present Mic- his face riddled with an expression you couldn’t describe.

      “Sorry,” you said, clutching your chest. “I wasn’t—I wasn’t expecting other heroes,” you said after a moment.

      You watched him swallow, then sit down beside you. He scooted his chair a little closer so you two were nearly flush together before he leaned over… To anyone looking it would seem like he was just resting his head on yours… But you were able to hear him.

      “… You’re scared of heroes?” he asked.

      You didn’t even have to answer him. The tension in your body could be felt immediately… Yeah. You were horrified of Heroes, actually. It was WHY you hadn’t tried to become one in the first place. Ever since you were little heroes were that constant thing which haunted your nightmares and followed you in the dark at night after curfew.

 “… And you still came to check on me?” he asked, his voice filled with disbelief. Humor, almost. After a long moment of pausing he let out a sigh and stretched his arms above his head. “Unnnnnbelievable…” he said in more of a humored way than anything else… And then you felt something clamp around your head.

      You looked over to Mic where he was holding some sort of cordless MP3. The sound of little tumblers rang in your ears as he selected something for you to listen to. When he was done you heard the sound of guitar began to play as he resumed his position on your head- trying to avoid putting pressure on the headphones that were now on your head.

      Your ears perked for a moment. “… Is this… Ellegarden?”

      “Mm-hm,” he said as you helplessly began to bob your head slightly. “Is this good?”

      “Yeah…” you said, feeling him sling an arm over your shoulder.

      You leaned a little more into him. Just close enough to smell the cheap cologne he was wearing underneath his jacket.

      “Did you know refrain has two meanings?... It can either mean ‘to repeat’, or ‘to stop one’s self’.”

[toomanydamnmuses]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖

(repost don’t reblog)

basics

NAME: Izuru Kira

NICKNAME(S): He doesn’t particularly care what you call him, so long as he’s shown the same respect that he grants to you.

personal

MORALITY:   lawful / neutral / chaotic / good / grey  / evil 

RELIGION: He isn’t particularly religious

SINS:   greed / gluttony / sloth / lust / pride / envy / wrath (He is a very horny boi once he’s in a ship, and he can get jealous at times of how happy everyone else seems to be) 

VIRTUES:   chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice  

PRIMARY GOALS IN LIFE: Depends on the verse and at what point of his life we are talking about. In the Academy, his main goal was to graduate and be of use to the Gotei 13. Once he graduated though and started rising through the ranks, his primary goal was simply to be able to work under Gin Ichimaru. Upon becoming Lieutenant of the Third, that goal shifted to be useful to his Captain Ichimaru. After Aizen’s betrayal with Tousen and Gin, his goal became to try to figure out Gin’s reasoning behind betraying them, get the answers he wants, and perhaps even bring him back to the Gotei. After the Winter War (and Gin’s death) his goal simply became to hold the Third together. Nothing more, nothing less. 

 KNOWN LANGUAGES:  Japanese

physical

BUILD: scrawny / bony / slender / fit / athletic / curvy / herculean / pudgy / average 

HEIGHT: 173 cm (5′ 8″)

 WEIGHT: 56 kg (123 lbs)

SCARS / BIRTHMARKS: Other than the typical scars that come from training and wielding Wabisuke, he has been lucky enough to remain relatively unmarked. Unless of course we are talking post-TYBW in which case... Yeah don’t even get me started on that.

ABILITIES / POWERS: He is a very skilled swordsman, as well as an expert at kido. He’s good at figuring out the best way to go about a problem, at least any problem that might present itself in battle. He’s also fairly skilled with a shunpo, and knows healing kido (even if he does say he’s rusty. Don’t listen to him.) Bankai is very verse-dependent (aka only 2 verses so far) and I’ll be writing something up on that soon. More can be read here

RESTRICTIONS: His shikai is best used in close-combat, which he rather dislikes. He also has a tendency to prefer to stick to defense, rather than an offensive approach, unless he feels he has no other choice in the matter. He also has a tendency to underestimate his own abilities.

favorites

FOOD:  Tokoroten (but he’s also very fond of anything miso!)

DRINK: sake & tea

 PIZZA TOPPING: He’s never actually had pizza, so this shall go unanswered :D

 MUSIC GENRES: He doesn’t listen to music, really. He’ll listen to whatever is playing, although he has shown a strong dislike of rap music and/or heavy death metal where there is a lot of screaming. He says the death metal reminds him too much of his time that he spent in the cell, after raising his sword to Momo.

BOOK GENRES:  Publicly, he reads a lot of haiku and poetry. In his private time, however (when he isn’t overworking himself) he loves to read romance novels.

MOVIE GENRES:   He doesn’t watch movies; they confuse him.

SEASON:   Winter

CURSE WORD:  He rarely curses unless you get him very riled up (aka if you tease him when he’s wanting sex), in which case he often uses “fuck” or “damn” or some variation.

 SCENTS:  Lavender. It makes him feel safe, as it is a scent he associates with his late mother. He remembers, vaguely, that his mother grew several lavender plants on the Kira estate, and would harvest the flowers to make tea with. He also remembers that she wore lavender perfume often as well.

fun stuff

BOTTOM OR TOP:  Bottom. All the way. The few times I tried getting him to top he rebelled.

SINGS IN THE SHOWER: He doesn’t really know any songs other than the few that his mother sang to him when he was a child. He doesn’t remember the words, only the melody, so when he is particularly content he might hum a bit, shower or not.

 LIKES PUNS: They tend to go over his head. If he does catch them, he’ll often get exasperated.

tagged by: @katakurah

tagging: I feel like I’ve already done this and tagged a fair amount of people the last time, so I’ll just say steal it if you want~

[aquariusboyfriendjay]

Hong Kong Romance

-

idk what this is, in all honesty, I wrote it 2/3 years ago so a lot of the context is old (since they're so much more successful now such kings wow iltsm.had to rewrite a lot since my writing has improved but also I haven’t published (lmao) a fanfiction before so pls read pls enjoy idontknowwhatimdoing that ending is… I'm not exactly selling this well but oh well

genre: romance, fluff

tags: lost love, penpals, long distance, reunited, happy ending, myg is whipped, queer myg because yes?

oneshot

words: 1126

-

Humid as always, Hong Kong was hot and sticky. Min Yoongi traced the streets, lost, but happily so. It was a rare occasion where he and the boys got the afternoon off and, after being dragged out of his hotel bed by an eager Hoseok, he, aforementioned, Namjoon and Jimin bathed themselves in the blues reds and yellows of the city’s restaurants and gift shops, Yoongi pulling his feet paces behind the others -it was too hot.

Despite his vexed expression as he slouched, Yoongi had soft thoughts. they had come so far in their journey as artists. Together they had won numerous awards and performed in arenas they had previously pleaded to be possible. So why did he still feel so empty? Yes, he was already tasting international fame (they were on the last leg of their Asia tour) and it had been a dream come true to perform at MAMA and yet. Min Yoongi could trace the circular outlines of the bullet holes in his body. There had been too much hurt and so much sacrifice to reach their current success which, looking back, was even further than they had envisioned in their trainee days. 23 and mourning the death of his teen years, when his heart was so open, when his hair wasn't damaged.

He had only ever loved two people. his homme fatale in middle school, the one way out of his league who would talk to him during break after they had math. The one who graduated only ever hearing 'I'm fine thanks, you?'

And then there was y/n. The foreign belle who blessed his debut days with daydreamed adventures and meaningful conversations. They had been exchanging letters; the first was five years ago. They had bonded over Illmatic, Haruki Murakami and their shared longing for an exit from city life. The last was his, 6 months ago. Last he heard she was working in Canada as God knows what and God knows where. His heart ached for contact.

The men in front of him stopped every so often to use their cameras to add to the sparkling lights of the Hong Kong horizon. Their laughter lost in the clamour of the wide-awake population. Tall towers of minimal design pointed high into the bright blue night sky. Yoongi would sigh when they stopped, uninterested. he’d  study the stickers peeling off of packed walls. Outside of a glowing white Japanese restaurant, this poster read: 'HWA YEON YONG HWA' in red and featured a photoshopped image of his now drained face. A hand moved in the corner of his eye. A brown-skinned elbow bent to pick up a small cup of miso soup, and copper coloured thick lips pursed to sip on the stock. Yoongi’s eyes hovered over the soft features of the girl at the table, transfixed. The way her thick locks fell over her shoulder as she turned her newspaper, her delicate fingers covered in ink tapping absentmindedly on her thigh, her long, long crossed legs that shone in the humidity. The girl looked up and stared out at a billboard above. Yoongi gasped. It couldn't be.

'Hyung c'mon! we're going!' Yoongi waved them off. He had just seen a prayer answered. His heart began to beat faster and he felt even hotter than before. Tentatively, Yoongi pushed the restaurant door, not taking his eyes off of the girl through the steaming shop front. Harsh white light forced him to break his gaze at the door so he stepped quicker, navigating the tables and chairs, not wanting to lose her. His eyes adjusted and he was standing next to her, breathing heavily. 'I look disgusting’ he panicked, wiping away the sweat from his forehead with his shaking clammy palms. But his breath hitched when she turned to make eye contact with him. It had to be. Those perfect brown eyes were hers.

'No way' she covered her mouth 'it is not you...it is!' she gasped 'my god!' she squealed 'I've missed you so much!' She leapt into his arms wrapping hers tightly around his shoulders. Her hair was loose and framed her face perfectly, his palm rested on the sticky skin of her bare waist, never mind the heat, it had been too long. They parted just enough to see each other's face, but still held on.

'What are you doing here?' He grinned

'I'm on holiday!'

'Alone?'

'No, my friends are somewhere I don’t know but my god! look at you! I swear you've grown!' She teased and they embraced again. 'Come sit, please! We have to talk' She grabbed his wrist and drew up a chair next to hers

'Canada! You were in fucking Canada! why?'

'I don't know I'm sorry!’

‘You don’t have to apologise’ he laughed

‘I know but, I took this low pay job with a horrible boss cause I needed experience but all I got was a headache. I quit about a month after I sent you the letter, I work at a hotel here now, petty cash. I've seen you though! You're a star!' she giggled 'yesterday I walked into a shop selling a bath towel with your name on it! I thought you must have forgotten me by now, how long has it been?'

'Three years'

'Three?'

'You haven't changed at all, you're still so beautiful' Yoongi wasn't ever the type to say such cheesy things, but she had stolen his heart long ago and fucked off to Canada with it. Yoongi could physically feel himself becoming less numb and he had to hold on to that feeling. It felt so good. It was a lot quieter in here than outside as he watched her talk, still in shock. She smiled.

Suddenly, a tap on the window broke his focus, their heads snapped to see Namjoon peering inside before letting himself in, he strode over and stood tall above their heads.

'Hyung what are you doing? Should we leave or...?' glancing at their faces and then their interlocked hands.

'Yeah you leave’ Yoongi spoke, irritated ‘i’ll see you later'

'Namjoon?'

He didn't recognise her.

'Do I know you?

'I guess not... but I remember you'

'OK, OK whatever’ Yoongi snapped ‘Namjoon just go. I'll see you later'

'When?'

' I don't know! I’ll call you!.'

'Fine. Be back by 2.' he stated in his best leader voice.

Yoongi waved him off and Namjoon begrudgingly left. Yoongi put his hands back in hers. she looked at her watch. 23:01. Letting go of his grip she downed the rest of her soup, stuffed her paper into her purse reapplied her lipstick and put her hand back in his. 'Shall we go?' he nodded, they grinned and disappeared into the glowing night.

[thekuroiookami]

REQUESTING THIS BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE NOT ENOUGH PEOPLE GIVE KISE LOVE. SO I'LL BE THE ONE WHO GIVES HIM LOVE. Can I just have anything that revolves around Kise? A Kise day with his friends and his s/o the poor dude seems so happy but everyone always tells him to shut up lol he needs love.

Us Kise fans need to stick together, anon. So I wrote this 3k monster because he needed some love, but somewhere along it the way it devolved into useless comedy…Anyway, I hope you enjoy it ^__^

Onthe day Kise turned twenty, he woke up to sheets of grey rain blanketing thewindows and smothering any hints of sunlight. He rested his chin on his handwith a soft exhale, watching the downpour.

“Well,I guess it could be worse. The day’s only started, right?”

Hisphone chimed to life, ringtone bouncing off the walls of his tiny apartment. Asmile pulled at the corner of his mouth when he saw who it was. “Morning,__-cchi.”

“Ryouta,”you said in a lilting voice that made his smile widen, “guess what?”

“What?”He tilted his head at the mischief in your tone.

“Todayis a super special day. Extra special.”

“Really?”He pressed his fingertips to his mouth to keep the laughter in. “Why?”

“Hmm,you don’t know? Today is the day that the person I love most in the world wasborn. He’s wonderful. He’s kind, he has the most musical laugh, and he nevergives up.”

Kiseleaned back against a pillow, feeling his cheeks heat up. “He sounds like areal catch, ___-cchi. You should keep him.”

“Iknow, right? I won’t share even if you ask nicely. Ah, but you want to knowsomething?”

“Sure?”He could practically see the grin on your face.

“That’snot why I really like him. Those are just excuses.”

Heraised an eyebrow, still amused. “I knew you just liked him for his looks.”

“Ehh,you found me out. Just kidding. See, the thing I love most about him…it’s hissmile.”

Heblinked. Somehow that was not what he expected. “What about it, ___-cchi?”

“Ah,ah, not so quick. Shall I let you in on another secret?”

Hehummed in response, tracing absent minded circles over the patterns on hisduvet.

“Ifthis person looked out the window, they’d see me standing outside their door.And I’d encourage them to let me in before I get fully drenched.”

“Hah?!”He leapt out of bed and threw the window open.

Youwaved up at him cheerfully, tipping your umbrella back. “Open the gate,Ryouta!”

Heducked back in to press a button near the door. Kise threw on a t-shirt andsmoothed his hair back into place just in time to let you in.

Yousmiled at him as you slipped off your shoes. He noted the adorable flushspreading over your face from the exertion of climbing up stairs. You pressed aquick kiss to his jaw. “Happy birthday, Ryouta.”

Incandescenthappiness spread through his chest, as if someone had a lit a string oflanterns to shed a warm glow on his heart. Kise smiled, eyes glowing amber.“Thanks, ___-cchi. What’s in the grocery bag?”

Youheaded into the kitchen as you spoke, setting things down. He watched in vaguebemusement as you commandeered his house. “I’m going to make breakfast whileyou get ready. Sad as it is, you do have classes today.”

Heglanced at the clock and started. “Ahh, you’re right. I won’t take long.”

Youhuffed, finding it ironic. “No offense, but we both know you’ll take a while.Your morning routine is pretty…extensive.”

Hepouted in mock offense. “I have to live up to certain standards, you know.People have expectations.”

Youwaved him away. “Did I say you shouldn’t? I’m grateful for the overwhelmingperfection of my boyfriend. Shoo now.”

Helaughed at that, the sound melodic, and headed for the bathroom. When hereturned, the room was filled with the familiar aromas of miso soup and warmrice. You looked up from rolling an omelette. “Oh, you look good, Kise-kun.”

Hesmirked a little. “Of course, ___-cchi.” He walked over to wrap his arms aroundyour waist, unable to resist. Kise buried his face in your neck, breathing inthe comforting scent.

Youshifted when his nose brushed over a sensitive spot. “That tickles.”

Hedid it again, smiling when you squeaked. “Here?”

“Stopit! I’ll end up dropping a hot pan if you keep doing that. Go set the table,please.”

“Ayeaye, captain.” He set off to do as you ordered, humming a tune he’d heard onthe radio recently. A few minutes later, he found himself seated with asteaming bowl of soup in front of him. “Wow, you really went all out today,___-cchi.”

Younodded gravely. “Yeah, you probably shouldn’t expect it to happen again.”

Hegave you the saddest look he could manage, and he knew it worked when your lipstwitched. “Aww, I was looking forward to it too…”

“Maybeonce in a while,” you grumbled. “Let’s eat now.”

Kisegrinned and dug in. After breakfast, you walked with him till the lawn near hisdepartment came into view. “I’ll see you after class, okay?”

“Mhmm.”He bent to drop a kiss on your hair and was rewarded with a small blush. “Seeya later, ___-cchi.”

Notmany of his classmates seemed to realize it was his birthday, and the daymostly went by as usual until some overzealous fangirls screeched and jumped athim. Heck, Kise didn’t feel any older or different himself. He tried toextricate himself from their enthusiastic congratulations and nearly sighedwith relief when his phone rang.

“Hey,”you said, sounding distinctly uncomfortable, “something’s come up.”

Hisshoulders stiffened with tension. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“Huh?No, I’m fine. It’s just that I can’t make it for dinner like we planned. I’msorry, Ryouta.”

Kise’sheartbeat slowed from racing to a steadier rhythm. “It’s okay, ___-cchi. Stuffhappens. Let’s just take a rain check on it?”

“I’mreally sorry,” you said miserably. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Hmm,I might be tempted to collect on that. Call me when you’re free.” He hung upand sighed again. Well, it wasn’t the ideal thing to hear, but he supposed hecould keep himself occupied. He wondered if Kasamatsu was free to catch up oversome drinks, now that he could drink. Lost in his thoughts, Kise didn’t noticethe person leaning against the wall until they called out to him.

“Oi,Kise!”

Helooked up in surprise. “Aominecchi?”

Aominestrode over, disgruntled in the extreme. “Who else? Come on, let’s go.”

“Wha-where are we going?” Kise sprinted to catch up, bewildered. “Why are you even here,Aominecchi?”

“Whatdo you think? Satsuki gets hung up on these things and I take the brunt of it.It’s on the left.”

Aominestopped in front of a dimly lit storefront, and gestured impatiently. Kiselooked up at the name and frowned. “You’re treating me to…yakiniku?”

“Wecan’t all afford to snack on fancy French food, pretty boy. Go in already, I’mgetting soaked here.”

Kisestepped in reluctantly, spine prickling with foreboding. “Aominecchi, I don’tthink-“

“SURPRISE!”

Lightsburst into existence, a shower of confetti fell from somewhere, and severalcrackers popped simultaneously. Kise blinked rapidly, blinded, and a littleoverwhelmed by it all. “Hi?”

Momoigiggled at his dazed expression. “Happy birthday, Ki-chan! I guess you reallydidn’t catch on at all, huh.”

Heshook his head, amazed by the sheer number of people involved. “Not at all. Ican’t believe- you really planned all this behind my back?”

Kuroko’seyes sparkled. “It is more accurate to say that Momoi-san planned it all, butwe helped a little bit.”

Midorimapushed up his glasses. “You would have known if you had checked your horoscope,nanodayo. Today is a good day for Geminis.”

Kisescanned the room and felt his eyes widen. “Akashicchi and Murasakibaracchitoo?”

Akashi’slips curved slightly. “You’re my friend too, Ryouta.”

Murasakibarabriefly glanced at him. “Happy birthday, Kise-chin. Want a pocky stick?” Heheld out a box in offering.

Kisenumbly took a stick, heart stuttering painfully. “You guys…”

“Forthe love of god, don’t cry,” muttered Aomine. He flopped down at a table with aresigned look. “Congratulations, you can officially get plastered now.”

Kurokoand Momoi sighed in unison and seated themselves on either side of Aomine. Kisesat down opposite them, still in a trance. Murasakibara grumbled quietly as hetried to fold himself into a space that was clearly not built for him. Akashinodded at Midorima and sank down gracefully.

“So,”Kise started, looking around at the enclosed space, “are we expecting morepeople? There’s more empty spaces…”

Momoichecked her watch anxiously. “They should be here soon.”

Oncue, the sliding doors grazed open to admit three people. “What, this isn’t agoukon? I was promised pretty girls. Oh wait, Momoi-san is here.”

Kisewondered if his afternoon coffee had been drugged and this was all an acidtrip. “M-Moriyama-senpai?”

“Theone and only,” came the rejoinder. “Kasamatsu is here too.” The old captainlifted his hand in greeting.

“Yo,Kise.” Kagami had to duck to enter the room. “Happy birthday, dude.”

“Thanks,Kagamicchi.” He rubbed his neck, slightly embarrassed by the sudden surge ofattention. “I’m glad everyone is here, but aren’t we all turning twenty thisyear? It’s not particularly special.”

Momoinodded firmly. “And we’re going to celebrate them all, but yours is here now.It’s special because it’s your birthday, Ki-chan.”

Aominelooked alarmed at the idea, but Akashi gently cleared his throat to interrupt.“Is there anything you’d like to do in particular?”

Kisenarrowed his eyes in thought. “Can I ask for anything?”

“Nothingtoo extreme,” murmured Kuroko, “like looking at photobooks, but otherwise yes.”

“Veryfunny, Kurokocchi. I was going to say-“

“I’mso sorry I’m late!”

Severalpeople looked up in surprise as you skidded into the room, hair mussed andcheeks red. Kise’s eyes lit up. You looked around breathlessly. “There’s a lotof people here…Oh, there you are, Momoi-san.”

Sheclapped her hands together excitedly. “Did you get it?”

Thatwas when he noticed the enormous box in your hands. “Here it is. They justmanaged to finish icing it on time.”

Kiseshuffled to make room for you, and for some reason Moriyama toppled ontoKasamatsu like a domino. A smack and a yelp of pain followed. He linked hisfingers with yours under the table. “Is this why we had to postpone dinner?”

Youput on an expression of innocence. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Tsktsk, you’re a terrible liar, ___-cchi.” The simmering joy from earlier bubbledup and spilled over, painting his face with a smile.

Momoiwaved to get everyone’s attention. “Let’s cut the cake now! Tetsu-kun, you havethe candles? Good.”

“Ihave the matches,” you volunteered. The room hushed in anticipation as theslender sticks of wax were lit, shadows dancing over Kise’s hair. He hesitated,lips pursed.

“Sa-chin,do we have to sing? I don’t want to.” Murasakibara broke into the silence witha bored query.

Kagamisniggered, and the strange tension abruptly dissipated. Momoi heaved along-suffering sigh. “Fine. No singing. Ki-chan, just blow out the candlesalready.”

Later,Kise could say he remembered the cake, but not much after the sake appeared. Atsome point everyone got frosting smeared onto them, and Murasakibara tried tolick some off Midorima, much to the latter’s horror. He wasn’t entirely surewhen they ended up in the karaoke place, but it made him happy in ways hecouldn’t fully describe. Karaoke was one of his favorite things to do, afterall. It was always revealing new and unexpected to people.

“Okay,”he said, the words bubbly, “who wants to go first?”

“Youshould go, Kise,” suggested Kasamatsu. “Birthday boy gets first dibs.”

“Nah,I want to hear everyone else sing. That’s what I’m going use to my pass for.”

Therewas less protest than he expected, surprisingly. After a few drinks, everyonewas a lot more susceptible to suggestion. Kise made sure to keep the beerflowing. You smiled at Momoi in conspiracy, certain that your shared sobriety wouldlead to a great deal of amusement. She winked and sat back to watch thefireworks.

“Then,I’ll go first.” Everyone blinked in a stupor as Akashi elegantly strode up tothe stage. He mused over the selection, humming in thought. One eye suddenlyglinted. “Ah, this one.”

Astrangely countrified guitar twang filtered out of the speakers. Kuroko tilted hishead. “That’s a very old song, isn’t it?”

Kagamiand Aomine snorted in unison when they recognized the song. You bit your lip,struggling to keep a straight face. Akashi’s tenor was strangely suited toNancy Sinatra’s husky voice.

“Hasanyone actually ever seen Akashi wear boots?” Moriyama looked highly confused.

Whenthe last notes of the music drained away, the machine beeped a perfect score.Akashi looked around the room. “Who’s next? Atsushi?”

“Nope,give it to Sa-chin.”

Momoiblinked as the mic was handed to her and looked up at you. “Sing with me?”

Yousnickered when you saw her song selection. “The Boy is Mine? Are we aiming forsomeone in particular?”

Shejust smiled mysteriously and you made a mental note to ask Kise about it later.It went well enough, even if Momoi had a higher pitch than was ideal, and you misseda few beats.

“Yay,an eighty! Tetsu-kun, try and beat that!”

Kurokoshook his head. “Momoi-san, I’m not-“

“Aww,Kurokocchi.” Kise gave him a disappointed look. “Come on.”

Kurokowent up to the stage reluctantly and closed his fingers around the mic. Kagamigrinned. “Hey, Kuroko, sing the one that’s your ringtone.”

Heblanched, but it was too late. Momoi had already punched it into the consolewith an evil smile. Aomine thrust a glass at him. “Here, a shot for courage.Man up, Tetsu.”

Kurokodowned the liquid and took a deep breath. “I wish I could disappear,” hemuttered as the first bars of the piano tinkled out.

“Yousaid that into the mic, nanodayo.”

Momoisquealed as Kuroko began the most monotone rendition of Let it Go Kise had ever heard. You smiled happily and drummed yourfingers on the table. Kasamatsu hid a grin behind his hand. It was collectivelythe most adorable thing Kise had seen all year.

Kurokothrust the mic out when he was done, face pink. “You next, Aomine-kun.”

Aomineswaggered up to the mic, limbs languid with alcohol-induced confidence. Hesquinted at the screen before jabbing a few buttons. A horribly familiarpulsing drone started up and even Kise flinched in remembrance. Moriyama’s jawwent slack. “You can’t be serious,” he breathed.

Whenthe music hit the first chorus, Aomine’s sonorous timbre unrepentantly beltingout the lyrics, everyone was cringing in various degrees. “This is…interesting,”said Akashi.

“Someonemake it stop,” Kise begged. You buried your face in his side, shouldersshaking. “I don’t want to know anything about saddles or ponies.”

“Singsomething else, Ahomine!”  Kagami had hishands clapped over his ears and eyes screwed shut.

“Urgh,fine. Satsuki, pick something else.” Momoi poked a button, expression flat.

Youexhaled in surprise when Aomine picked up the melody effortlessly. “He’s got agood voice…”

Kisenodded in agreement. Aomine did a decent Elvis impression, and it was oddlymoving. “I’ll be yours through the years, huh?”

“Hmm,a ninety-five. Not bad. But I’m sure Yukio here can do better.” Moriyama shovedhis friend onto the stage.

Aominescoffed. “The only one who can beat me is…hang on, Akashi already got a perfectscore.”

“Youcan do it, senpai!” Kise cheered.

Kasamatsulooked incredibly uncomfortable, but he took the proffered mic. He ruffled hishair nervously. “Okay, here goes.”

Kisehad another pleasant surprise as Kasamatsu launched into a soulful, raspyversion of Hey There Delilah. Younodded appreciatively. “That’s a classic.”

Herested his chin on his hand to watch his senior finish the song. This birthdaywas turning out to be far more memorable than Kise had ever anticipated. “I have such good friends,” hewhispered to himself.

Youglanced at him and went back to watching the unfolding chaos. Kasamatsu pushedthe mic at Kagami. The redhead coloured and shrank back. “M-me? Really?”

Moriyamastraightened. “Let’s do one together, Kagami-kun.” After a hushed discussion,Kagami seemed to make up his mind.

Thewhole room sat up as a famously infamous guitar opening rocked the speakers. EvenMidorima looked up in interest. Akashi’s eyes sparkled in amusement.

Youwent back to laughing into Kise’s shoulder as Moriyama and Kagami begansinging, in the barest sense of the word. “Oh dear, is that like…a pun?”

Hebit his cheek to keep from joining you. “I don’t know, ___-cchi. Tiger…Taiga…maybe.Okay, it definitely is.”

Kagamilooked immensely relieved when the song ended. “I like that one, but I don’tthink I’m meant to be singing it,” he admitted.

“Iagree whole-heartedly,” said Midorima primly.

“Andnow it’s Midorin’s turn!” announced Momoi happily. Aomine grinned inanticipation.

“Iwill not take part in this-“ Midorima trailed off with a sigh when Kise andMomoi both shot him disapproving looks.

“It’sonly the once, Shintarou,” Akashi said calmly. “It will do no harm.”

Kisewaved his hand at them. “How about we do a group song this time andMidorimacchi can be the lead?”

Whichis how the whole room found itself clapping in the time to a ditzy song, withMidorima grimly extolling the virtues of the YMCA. Murasakibara joined in thechorus, occasionally blearily lifting his hands with the music. “Young man, Iwas once in your shoes,” yodelled Moriyama.

Youcollapsed into a hysterical heap on the floor at that, and Kise tried to catchyou but went down instead. “Oh god,” you gasped, “we better put an end to thisor I’m going to die of asphyxiation.”

“Youcan’t die on my birthday, ___-cchi,” he scolded, though he secretly agreed. SomehowAkashi managed to calm everyone enough to get them to go home. Kise watchedthem all wave goodbye with a fond smile and then turned to you.

“Doyou want to stay over at mine?” He watched you through half-lidded eyes, waiting.

Youbit your lip and nodded. “Sure. Someone needs to get you home safely anyway.”

Whenhe stepped out of the building, the rain was so thick he could barely see infront of him. You tugged on his sleeve and gave him a mischievous grin. “Yourhouse is only a couple of blocks away, right? Let’s just run for it.”

Whenthe both of you finally reached his door, panting, a pool of water formedaround your feet. “I hope we don’t catch a cold tomorrow,” he worried, huntingfor his key in his pocket.

Youshook your hair, spraying him with water. “Then it’s an excuse to skip class together.”

Hewaited until you had entered to press you against the door. Kise had his lipsfitted to yours before you could take a breath. He drank in the crystallinetaste of rainwater, sake and something uniquely you, addicted and desperate formore.

“Ryouta,”you murmured, breathless again. “We’re still drenched.”

Hekissed you again to silence your feeble protests, mouth moving softly overyours. Kise lifted his head after a moment to ghost his breath over your ear. “Younever told me, you know.”

“Toldyou what?” You hooked your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Whatyou liked about my smile.” He nipped your ear gently and smirked when youshuddered.

“That’sbecause…it’s mine.” You smiled and pressed a small kiss to his nose.

“Ohhhh,___-cchi is possessive. I like it.” His fingers found the edge of your shirtand began toying with it.

Yourolled your eyes and dragged him towards you again. “Whatever you say, Ryouta.It is your birthday, after all.”

[uber--duper]

Gentle Men and Selfless Women - Chapter 2: Return of Old Friends!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3

AO3 Link

“Uhm...” Gonta squint at paper before him. Lots of letters, Gonta know that much. He know words, Gonta not that dumb, but these words... these words. Gonta no understand these words. They had lots of... same letters over and over, and strange sounds. Never sound right coming out of Gonta's mouth. Still... Gonta always tried to do best! After all, gentleman never give up. Gentleman always pull through, always become winner. He need to... sound out. Yes, sound out word. “Ehk... squeeze... ite?”

“Close!” Angie remarked. She took the paper back and scribbled something under the word she had written out earlier. “There! Try that!”

“Ehk... squiz... it?”

“Now together! Put it together, Gonta!” Angie excitedly clenched her fists. Gonta on right track, then?

“Ehksquizit.” Gonta said. Angie's eyes light up, and Gonta's also do when he see her happiness. “Exquisite!” He repeat happily.

“Yeeeee! Excellent!” Angie bounced out of her seat, wrapping her arms around Gonta's. Gonta use free arm to rub back of head. Heat come to Gonta's cheeks, but he no mind. Unlike other times... Gonta no mind heat. “Excellent work, Gonta!”

“Ah... thanks Angie.” Gonta say.

“No problem!” She replied, pulling away from Gonta. Angie hop up onto table, hands on waist. “Now, we look at what the word means, and how we can incorporate it into your etiquette training along with the other words and phrases we've learned today, okay?”

“Yes!” Gonta nod. Yes, etiquette important. Not just for gentleman, but also for family. Mom and Dad want etiquette, want polite Gonta. Gonta must be calm and polite for parents!

“Angie,” Another voice suddenly say. Gonta and Angie turn as Kirumi enter dining room from kitchen, pushing cart. On cart, there were lots of good looking foods! Dumplings and soup and fish, oh wow! Gonta's eyes widened at bounty. Very good!

“Yahoo!” Angie wave both arms excitedly. “Hello Kirumi! Gonta is making exquisite progress on his etiquette and vocabulary training!”

“I am very glad to hear that.” Kirumi say, smiling at Gonta. Gonta smiled back. Kirumi look back at Angie, and smile replaced by frown. “But right now, it's time for Master Gokuhara's lunch, and you are making a mess.”

“Aw, phooey.” Angie pouted, and hop off of table. Gonta scramble out of seat, reaching arms out. Angie land in Gonta's arms, and then laugh and pat Gonta on head. “Very well. We shall continue our lessons... after lunch!”

“Indeed.” Kirumi say, reaching onto lower shelf of cart. She pull out cloth, and move towards table. With one hand, Kirumi gathered up papers and writing things with one hand, while quickly wiping down table with other hand. Gonta marvel at her fast movements. Very... efficient! Yes, that a new word as well, one Gonta learn earlier today. But Kirumi very efficient.

“Ah, thanks very much, Kirumi!” Gonta tell her. “You are very good at this!”

“I'm pleased you're enjoying my service.” Kirumi say back, smiling. “Though you must think nothing of it. This is just a maid's typical work.” Before Gonta can respond, he find a bowl of miso soup in front of him, plus glass of water and small plate of edamame. “Appetizer.” She comment, quickly moving back to cart.

“Oh Kiruuuuumiiii~” Angie chime in, flopping into seat next to Gonta. “What about my food?”

“...I shall get to you in a moment.” Kirumi say. “I must make sure Master Gokuhara is satisfied and accounted for before I move on.”

“Ah, Gonta is good!” Gonta say. “Um... you can help Angie now! Oh, and Kirumi should eat too! We can all eat together!” He cross his arms and shake head. “Dumb Gonta... should have asked Kirumi and Angie to eat earlier days too...” When he look up, however...

“...” For a small moment... Kirumi suddenly looked... sad? She look at... no, she look through Gonta. Gonta's eyes widened in surprise. With good eyesight, Gonta see Kirumi's eyes... get misty, but still sharp. Very sharp. Something about her stop for just a second. Then she blink, and she not looking past Gonta anymore. But smile on her face now.

“Um... is Kirumi okay?” Gonta asked. He start to reach for Kirumi, but stop.

“Hmm?” Kirumi look at him through corner of her eyes as she put another bowl of soup in front of Angie, who cheer happily.

“Gonta...” Gonta frown. “Gonta no know how to ask but... Kirumi look sad. For only second, but Gonta still see it.”

“Ah...” Kirumi glanced back at her food cart, then sit down next to Gonta, retrieving bowl for herself. She gently stir soup before she chuckle. “You're very observant, Gonta. It's nothing much, just... just that you reminded me a little of somebody I served before.” Kirumi look up at Gonta with a smile. “You know, you're only the second person to ask me to eat with you.”

“What?!” Gonta gasp. “Nobody want to eat with Kirumi?!” He smack forehead. “Shoot! Gonta really should have asked friends to eat with him! No good friend if he letting other friends be hungry while he eat!” Gonta put hand on Kirumi's shoulder. She looked at it, then at Gonta. “From now on, Gonta have request for Kirumi: always make food for three! Then, Gonta, Kirumi, and Angie always eat food together! No more lonely meals!”

“Yes, I agree, I agree!” Angie finally speak up. She already finish soup. Gonta no even start his. “We're all friends here! We should eat together.”

“...hmm hmm.” Kirumi cracked a smile, humming to herself. “Very well. It would be silly to refuse such a harmless request. Plus, I would enjoy eating with you, Gonta.” She nodded, making Gonta's smile grow super large! To side, Angie chime in with quiet 'what about me?'.

“Yes! Very good!” Gonta cheer, removing hand from Kirumi's shoulder. “Now, we eat lunch!” Gonta just about to start digging in when he hear somebody call out.

“GONTA!” He hear yelling from front of house. Familiar voice, but just barely. Still... voice very loud, much louder than Mom or Dad ever reach. “GONTA, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!” It been long time since Gonta hear that voice, but he know that voice anywhere.

Gonta jump up from table, surprising Angie and Kirumi, nearly knocking over chair. Gonta barely even notice them looking at him funny as he cup hands around mouth and yell back.

“Kaito?! Kaitoooo!!!”

Kirumi could only watch, mystified, as Gonta screamed somebody's name and charged out of the dining room. Her mouth opened slightly in surprise, and she turned to look at Angie, who seemed just as startled as she was. In their week there, Kirumi had never seen Gonta act so... energetically, aside from maybe their very first interaction. He seemed to be a normally very down-to-earth person, so this kind of outburst was... surprising to say the least.

“GONTAAAAA!” “Kaitooooo!” The two voices yelling out ricocheted through the halls, pinging into the dining room. Now that the door was open, Kirumi could tell that this 'Kaito' was far from the dining room. And yet his voice carried so easily.

“...what about lunch?” Angie asked, looking confused.

“I suppose we shall have to temporarily postpone our lunch.” Kirumi remarked, standing up and smoothing out her skirt. “Though this seems to be an interesting situation.”

“Nya haha, you're so right, Kirumi!” Angie leaped from her seat, cheering. “Yes, this is very interesting indeed! Atua's interest is piqued as well... Let's go!” And with that, Angie was out of the room as well, her footsteps fading down the hall.

“...” Kirumi shot a small glance over towards the food cart and the food still on the table. Reheating food was never optimal, she always tried to prepare just enough, but she supposed that special events lead to special circumstances. With a sigh, she shook her head and walked out of the dining room.

It wasn't hard to follow the sounds of cheering and excited laughter all the way down to the foyer. Kirumi emerged into the front hall to find three people standing there, all three of them seeming to feed off of each others' excitement. Goodness.

Two of the figures were Gonta and Angie, who both had similar expressions of excitement. Gonta himself also looked extremely surprised, but in a positive way. The final figure was the one that caught Kirumi's eye. He was tall, though at a much more... reasonable height than Gonta, with a toned build and purple hair (alongside a rather... 'charming' goatee). He seemed to be dressed up somewhat, though much less so than Gonta's normal attire, with a simple black t-shirt underneath a messily buttoned white shirt and a jacket with a rather interesting space pattern printed on the inside. He had dress pants and shoes on, and Kirumi could see a tie poking out of one of his pockets.

“Gonta, fuck's sake, man!” The new figure said, driving a fist into Gonta's arm. “You have no idea how hard it was to convince the folks to let me finally fucking see you!”

“Gonta miss you!” Gonta bellowed, suddenly stooping down to wrap his arms around the figure's torso and pulling him into what Kirumi could only imagine was a rib-crushing bear hug. “Gonta... Gonta thought you never gonna... never gonna come by again!” It was then that Kirumi could see the tear drops rolling down Gonta's cheeks.

“Ghk!” The figure let out a strained grunt, using one of his trapped hands to loosely whack at Gonta's arm. “D-Dude... can... t... brea... the...”

“Ah!” Gonta dropped him, rubbing his cheek with one hand and using the other to steady the figure. “Sorry... Gonta forget...”

“Don't worry, dude... I know you've always been worried, and I get why, but I'm strong, dammit.” The figure took a moment to catch his breath, leaning against Gonta. As he did so, he caught Kirumi's curious gaze. His brow went up, and he straightened his posture and marched over. “Yo!” Suddenly, a hand was outstretched, and Kirumi looked down at it. The figure wiggled it a bit, indicating that he wanted her to grab it.

“Ah, hello there.” Kirumi reached out, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. “I assume you know Gonta?”

“Hah, yeah!” He said, letting his hand fall down to his side. “Me and him go waaaay back. Oh, name's Kaito. Kaito Momota.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Kirumi replied. “Kirumi Tojo.”

“...” Kaito gave her a look, one that Kirumi could see was wary, even with the smile on his face. “So you and Angie are here to help Gonta out, huh?” She could hear the dissatisfaction in his tone. At least he wore his heart on his sleeve. “Must be fun, the guy's a riot.”

“Yes, I do enjoy serving Master Gokuhara.” Kirumi said, face flat. “He's quite the pleasant young man.” At her words, Kirumi saw Gonta straighten his back and puff out his chest, clearly pleased.

“Glad to hear that, seems like he likes you too.” Kaito grinned at her, though it wasn't warm, and turned back to Gonta. Compassion seemed to enter to his posture and tone when he addressed Gonta. “Jesus, Gonta, you have no idea how hard it was to get the folks to lemme come over.”

“Ah, you must have been worried about Gonta!” Gonta said, reaching out to Kaito. Kaito reached out, grabbing Gonta's hand and playfully pulling on his arm. Gonta didn't budge, being the mountain that he was, though the action still drew a laugh as he pulled his arm back.

“Damn straight I was.” Kaito said, planting his hands on his hips and laughing. “You know your shiii... er...” He trailed off, moving his fist up to cover up his mouth and clear his throat. Gonta cocked his head, and Kaito continued a moment later. “Your parents really don't like me, y'know. 'S why it's so hard to hang out.”

“Yeah...” Gonta visibly wilted. “Gonta try to tell Mom and Dad that Kaito good friend, but... they no like you anyway.”

“Don't worry about it, man.” Kaito shook his head. “Not your fault. I know you try your best and shit.”

“Yes, Gonta is always trying his best!” Angie chimed in. Kaito glanced at her.

“Hey uh... Gonta. I know you like these guys, but... can we talk in private? Just for a sec?”

“Oh. Uh...” Gonta glanced back at Kirumi, his eyes flicking over to Angie a moment later.

“Aw, but Atua wa-” Angie began.

“Of course.” Kirumi cut in. “If my master decides that he needs some privacy, it is a maid's duty to follow that desire. Come now, Angie, we need to make sure the dining room is ready when Master Gokuhara is done.” Gonta looked upset at her words, while Kaito simply frowned.

“Awwwww...” Angie let out an extended whine, “but I'm not even a maid like you...”

“Privacy is still something people can request.” Kirumi said as she laid a hand on Angie's shoulder. As she started guiding her toward the dining room, Kirumi spoke up without looking back at the two boys. “We shall be in the dining room when you are finished, Master Gokuhara.”

“Ah... okay.” Gonta replied.

“...jeez. What a pair.” Kaito say once Kirumi and Angie leave. Gonta rub back of head. What's going on?

“Um, Kaito...” Gonta begin, looking at feet. Socks on this time, but Gonta still like barefoot better. “Why you want to talk to Gonta alone?”

“...” Kaito rubbed the back of head, eyes closed. He sighed, putting hand on hip before shaking head. “Cause I'm worried about you, dude.”

“Huh? Worried about Gonta?” Gonta cock head. “Why Kaito worried?”

“Because, man.” Kaito sigh again. “I know I'm like... never around for you and stuff, which isn't something a friend should do, but I still worry. Every time I come over, you've got a different set of maids and butlers and teachers all trying to 'help you out', as your parents say.” Gonta look sad at that. It true, he always have somebody else when Kaito come over.

“Yes,” Gonta agreed. “Different people all the time. All nice.”

“I dunno about that, bud.” Kaito say. “You're always so broken up when they're gone, and they always leave for a reason that I just don't think is true. Because... well, it's just that... man, I just...” Kaito grumble, rubbing back of head. He look… like he don’t wanna say what he gonna say. Still, Kaito grunt and clench jaw. “I don't think you need 'help' or anything.”

“You?...” Gonta begin, but trail off.

“Yeah,” Kaito nod. “Your parents like to talk about you needing help and shit, but... I dunno man, I don't see it. You're perfectly fine to me. It feels like they're trying to make you into something you're not with all this... stuff, and... dude, you just wouldn't be the same if they changed you.”

“Kaito.” Gonta say, putting hand on Kaito's shoulder. “Please no worry about Gonta.” Kaito glance up at him. “Gonta know that parents love him very much. Would never try and make Gonta different person, because Gonta's parents nice! Nice people love family and friends just the way they are! Gonta's parents love Gonta no matter what. They just want Gonta to be the best he can. Just like Kaito!” Gonta grin. “Kaito is real friend, always make Gonta feel like he is best Gonta that Gonta can be. So no worry, Gonta is okay!”

“...hah.” Kaito smiled real wide. “You sure know how to cheer a guy up. That's what I love about ya, man!” He playfully whack Gonta in arm, and Gonta laugh. Suddenly, Kaito's face get brighter. “Oh shit, I totally forgot to tell you why I'm actually here!”

“Huh?” Gonta ask.

“Yeah, man.” Kaito's smile grow larger, ear to ear. “Himiko is comin' home tomorrow!”

“What?!” Gonta start bouncing on balls of his feet. “Himiko finally coming back?!”

“Yeah!” Kaito look as excited as Gonta feel. “That stupid trip her family went on finally finished up the other day, and she let me know that she should be at the airport tomorrow! We need to go see her!”

“Yes!” Gonta agree, “Been long time since Gonta see Himiko!”

“Damn straight!” Kaito laughed. Suddenly, rumble fill air, and laughter stop. Gonta look at Kaito, and Kaito look back. “Hey, uh... your maid has lunch ready, right?”

“Gonta think so.” Gonta say. “But... she normally make enough for Gonta only. Maybe Gonta can ask for food for you, if you want.”

“That would be sweet.” Kaito respond, throwing arm around Gonta's broad shoulders.

Kirumi sighed as she reached over, soapy water dribbling down her arm. Before her, the sink ran, steam from the hot water rising into the air slowly. The air smelled faintly of artificial green apple, and over the sound of running water, she could faintly hear Gonta and Angie chattering about something or other in the adjacent dining room. This was a familiar scene for Kirumi, and one she did not mind in the slightest. There was a certain... tranquility that came with washing the dishes, and it was something that she enjoyed getting lost in for a little while while her Master or Mistress wound down from a meal well prepared. Plus, dish washing didn't come with the trouble cooking did, in that she didn't have to find work-arounds for any pesky konjac that popped up in her recepies.

Still... Kirumi was just slightly annoyed at the presence of an unforeseen amount of dirty dishes. While she would never tell her Master who to associate with, that Kaito was just a little too... headstrong for Kirumi's tastes. Also, while it wasn't a problem to cook an extra set of food for him, she had no idea what he even liked, forcing her to prepare something horribly generic. Plus, now she'd have to drag Angie along for another shopping trip much sooner than she had anticipated, and have to listen to her coworker prattle on about Atua not wanting to be there. Oh well. As long as Master Gokuhara was pleased, her job was being done right.

Over the sound of running water, Kirumi heard the kitchen door click open. Though her hands kept moving, continuing to scrub off a pesky bit of dried sauce, she glanced over her shoulder. Surprise ran through her at the sight of Kaito Momota himself, hand on the back of his head. He slowly made his way over to stand beside her at the sink, though he kept enough distance so as to not impede her work.

“Hey,” he greeted, looking down at the suds filled sink. Kirumi noted that his voice was just the right volume to be heard over the rushing water.

“Hello.” Kirumi replied, turning back to the dishes. “Apologies, but I'm not prepping anymore food at the moment.”

“Nah, don't worry about that.” Kaito said, glancing down at the floor. He sighed, then looked up at Kirumi. She met his gaze out of the corner of her eyes. “Hey uh... I just came here to thank you for lunch. One of the better ones I've had. Like, rich parents like to spoil their kids with good cooking, I know it first hand but… well, your shit’s real good.”

“Thank you.” Kirumi said. “If you intend to make your visits more regular, however, I am going to request that you provide me a few lists of your favorite dishes and ingredients; one for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks respectively, so that I may properly prep your preferred meals.”

That seemed to catch Kaito off guard. He looked down at her, eyes widened slightly, before he shook his head. “Jeez, I understand why Gonta likes you.” Kaito glanced away, then sighed again.

“I appreciate the sentiment.” Kirumi said. “However, I am currently busy, and won't be able to fulfill any of your requests until I finish up here.”

The kitchen settled into silence for a few seconds, aside from the sound of the sink, and the occasional clink of colliding dinnerware. Still, Kaito remained standing there, forcing Kirumi to attempt to tune his presence out. Luckily for her, he decided to remain quiet, and she soon got lost back in the sounds and gentle smells of washing the dishes.

When she attempted to put a plate in the drying rack, however, it was taken from her. Kirumi's brow quirked up, and she saw Kaito holding the plate, slowly rubbing it with one of the towels she had placed nearby for later use. He dried it off (though Kirumi noted his technique was rather sloppy), and placed the plate to the side. He then grabbed another from the drying rack and began drying it as well. Kaito was about three plates in when he noticed she was staring.

“...did you want them somewhere else?” He asked.

“...” Kirumi was struck dumb. It took her a few seconds to regain her composure. She cleared her throat before speaking. “No, I... forgive me, you simply caught me by surprise.”

“Hey, can't a guy help with the dishes?” Kaito asked, a smile on his face.

“He can,” Kirumi said, “but that wasn't what surprised me. I was shocked because I was still going off of the assumption that you didn't like me.” This time, it was Kaito's turn to be surprised. Kirumi watched him go ramrod straight, his grip on the towel and plate tightening. He put down both with a grunt, turning away for a moment in what Kirumi interpreted was shame of some sort.

“Look,” Kaito began, turning to face her. Kirumi, out of respect, turned her head so that they had eye contact. Kaito sighed. “I... also came in here because I wanted to apologize to you.” Kirumi cocked her brow, and Kaito continued. “I was shitty when I arrived here. I shouldn't be treating people I barely know like that. I'm trying to do my best for Gonta, cause I’m worried about him, but being an ass isn't helping anyone.” He put a hand on his hip and sighed. “So... I just wanted to say I'm sorry. Hope we can get off on a better foot.”

Kaito held out a hand for her to shake. Kirumi's eyes flicked down to his hand, then back up to his face. She didn't stop washing the dishes. After a moment, he cocked his brow in confusion, glancing down at his hand. He then looked back up at Kirumi, and the two stared at each other for a second. Kirumi then flicked her eyes towards the sink, and Kaito followed. Then his eyes lit up, and he laughed.

“Whoops! Haha, my bad.” He rolled up his sleeves. “Lemme just...” Kaito pretended to shake hands with something, and Kirumi couldn't help but crack a grin. He noticed her smile and grinned back. “There. Now, let me help you out with these dishes, as a better apology and shit.”

“Ah,” Kirumi said just as Kaito reached for another clean plate. “While you are forgiven, and I hate to devalue hard work... could you wash your hands first?” She motioned towards a secondary sink with her head. “And could you hand me the dishes you've already dried? I...need to wash them again.”

“Psh.” Kaito snorted. “Shoulda considered that. Ah well.” He grabbed his dried dishes and put them in the sink Kirumi was using before making his way over to wash his hands.

“...” Kirumi watched him for a second before turning back to the sink. She supposed Kaito wasn't as bad as she had believed. There was potential in him, after all.

Gonta find Kaito and Kirumi exiting kitchen just as he come back to dining room. Gonta smile real wide. He so excited!

“Kaito!” Gonta say, “Gonta been looking all over for you! Gonta has great news!”

“Well shit, bud. Spill those beans.” Kaito grinned.

“Gonta find parents while you missing, and he beg and beg, and they let him go see Himiko with you tomorrow!” Gonta excitedly grab Kaito's shoulders, lifting without thinking.

“Woah, really?!” Kaito look very surprised. “How the hell'd you swing that?!”

“Gonta beg real good, they say yes! Oh, but under condition... they said Gonta need... chaperone.” Gonta say. “But... Gonta no know where to get one of those. Gonta not even know what that is...”

“Ah, shit...” Kaito frowned, eyebrows pushing together.

“I believe I can remedy this problem.” Kirumi say suddenly, hands held in front of her. Gonta and Kaito look at her. “I can serve as your chaperone. Your parents trust me enough, and I believe a trip would do well to reinforce your studies. After all, knowledge is easily reinforced through practical use.”

“Oh! Thank you Kirumi!” Gonta drop Kaito, moving over to her. He smile and put hand to chest. “Gonta solemnly thank you, as gentleman would.”

“You're most certainly welcome.” She say back, smiling. “However... we need to adjust your itinerary for tomorrow, considering this is a bit of an out of nowhere scenario. Come with me please, Master Gokuhara. Oh, and you too, Kaito. You should help as well, considering you're the one that brought this information, and should know the times best.”

“Uh... yeah, sure.” Kaito shrug, following Kirumi out of the room.

Gonta stay behind for a moment, looking up at ceiling. Yes... this good! Things going very well for Gonta right now. Optimism... is important. Yes, Gonta just have to look to future, keep working hard and making friends. With confidence back in chest, Gonta follow after Kaito and Kirumi.