#i felt like i was in a shady alley doing a suspicious deal

[patron-saint-of-emesis]

told my brother my nic vape and weed vape are both about to die so im gonna ride that out until they’re done and then see how long i can abstain before getting a new one of either. dude then takes me to his room and pulls open a drawer full of nic vapes and asks me if i like kiwi. apparently he just, buys vapes and if he doesnt like them he sets it in the drawer and buys a whole new one immediately. so now i have a brand new kiwi dragonfruit nic vape but also cutting back on thc has been going well <3

[todoscript]

Syndicate — [ 1 ]

Parts | one ; two ; three

Genre | Mafia AU / Anti-Villain AU.

Pairing(s) | MafiaBosses!TodoBakuDeku x Fem!Reader

Rating | Mature

Words | 5.2k+

Summary | Being the lover of, not one, but three influential young men, who are the leaders of the most wanted crime syndicate in Japan, it is no surprise that other eyes are watching you beyond the three’s own.

Warnings | Violence. Cursing/crude language. Guns. Mafia talk/“negotiating”. Lots of fighting. Reader is inspired by the femme fatale archetype. Polyamorous relationship. Characters are aged-up. Sexual undertones/implied sexual content. Possessiveness. Heavily self-indulgent. Written in 3rd POV. Shouto’s “codename” is Mercury (b/c the planet is both half-hot and half-cold lol).

Author’s Notes | Hello all! This is the first ever fanfic I’ve posted on tumblr! Sorry, the idea was lingering in my head until I suddenly felt the burst of energy to start writing this out of nowhere in the dead of 3AM. I’ve written fanfiction before but I’ve never published anything for tumblr so this is exciting.

The air is still, nearly silent apart from the nocturnal creatures that scurry and prowl through alleys, navigating over the dewy darkness between the seams. The moon graces the gloom of the night with its luster across desolated areas in Japan. Business hours have longed past as services are halted until the next coming day. Civilians are nowhere to be found, tucked away in their homes with their lights flickered off.

What remains alive in Japan during this hour is the wind cast through the streets, the scamper of animals in the nocturne, and a low hum of an ebony vehicle driven down roads of street lights.

“Whatever the fuck Overhaul wants better be worth my fucking time, Deku,” hisses a peeved Katsuki Bakugou, leaning against the window of their sleek automobile and looking highly uninterested during the ride. Izuku Midoriya, the young man with the head of unruly verdant hair, nods his head. His expression is mild at his friend’s usual discontented tone.

“Kai Chisaki—the head boss of the Shie Hassaikai yakuza—wants to negotiate with us, Kacchan. Surely it would be advantageous for us to hear him out. If anything we’ll manage to at least squeak some intel from him to reference for later on.” A glint rises in the male’s eyes.

“‘Some intel’ ain’t enough. If they’re gonna drag all three of us out here, then it better be for something good, or else I might have to let off some explosions to satisfy my boredom.” Bakugou’s quirk begins to pop and crack around his palms at the idea of letting loose.

Shouto Todoroki—the third of the trio—sighs exasperatingly at his fellow inflamed mafia boss, running his hand through his red and white tresses.

“Bakugou, I’d advise against it. Knowing the location we’re heading to, your explosions would only cause a ruckus in the area that’d get the annoying heroes involved. I’ve had enough dealing with those fools as it is and we also don’t need the men in blue following after our trail.”

“Shut up Icy-Hot! If this ‘negotiation’ isn’t beneficial to us, I’ll find my own way to make them pay for wasting our damn time!” Bakugou yells.

These three young men—Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, and Shouto Todoroki—are known as the bosses of one of Japan’s most powerful organized crime syndicates.

Notorious, ruthless, and authoritative, these three, despite their youth, have secured a name for themselves within the underground crime world. Aside from their tenacity and skill, the strength of each of their quirks played a large factor in their rise among the rivaling crime groups. They easily snuffed out the weak competition without so much as a sweat, and working under them are other strong combatants, each of them possessing their own unique and powerful quirks.

With everything at their disposal, the Yuuei mafia group quickly obtained a vast, large territory within the capital of Japan—the epicenter of where all the shady deals and disputes occur.

“We didn’t even bring Angel Face with us. What a drag.” Bakugou gruffs. He leans back in his seat, arms crossed, and cushioned behind his head as the lamps flicker past them, the dim lights splayed across the endless road.

“Letting ____ rest was the least we could do after her successful infiltration at the political officials gala,” the middle of the three states matter-a-factly.

“Especially after the rounds she endured even after her mission,” Todoroki adds, vividly remembering the gala dress cascading down her skin and clinging to her body that night, as well as their antics that ensued afterward.

He recalls the beautiful, red formal gown she wore for the occasion, the material hugging her figure perfectly and accentuating her curves in all the right places. God, he prayed that something within him wouldn’t stir at the thought of it again.

They all remembered it quite clearly. It made their fingers itch the very evening of the event, yearning to touch all the dips and arcs that sculpted her body. Her hair, styled up and tied with a matching silk red ribbon, kept the skin of her neck bare and begging to be marked while gold lined her wrists and collar bones. To say she was a goddess that night would be an understatement. The three could barely keep their hands off her before she even left the mansion, let alone attend the gala. But once her mission was complete, she arrived home to be thoroughly loved and lusted, with three young and hungry men indulging in all the divine fruits this celestial being had to offer to them.

The girl they speak of is not only their right-hand woman but also the three’s beloved paramour. Since their journey into coming to power, ____ has been with them through thick and thin and has become an influential asset in attaining their position.

Beautiful, yet dangerous, she proved to be an incredibly powerful fighter in many forms of combat in combination with her quirk, along with having a gift for deception that allowed her to climb her way to the top of the pack. Naturally, the trio found themselves drawn to her, not just for her strength and beauty, but also her passion and ability to mend the spirits of those around her. If it weren’t her, the Yuuei mafia group would not be as intact and well-oiled as it is today.

“Besides, we have some of our best following in the car behind us in case anything suspicious happens,” Midoriya gestures to the similar-looking sleek and dark-tinted car trailing behind their own.

“I very much doubt we need them, but it’s best not to worry Angel too much while she’s resting,” Todoroki murmurs, crossing his legs.

A few more turns and they’ve eventually entered the area of a vacant warehouse located on the edge of Japan near the shore.

The moment their vehicle is directed to a stop, the three bosses exit. Bakugou vehemently slams his door, eyeing the building with a vexing glare.

“Let’s get this shit show over with. This better be good.”

The warehouse is eerily quiet in the dead of the night and smells of salt from the ocean behind it. Spotting them walking to the entrance, the watchmen of the Shie Hassaikai yakuza hastily open the doors enclosing the warehouse. The hinges bear an uncomfortable creaking sound that jars through the silence.

“Oh, he’s here! He’s here! My cute little Izuku is here!” hollers a shrill voice belonging to an all-too-energetic head of messy, bunned-up blonde hair. The said boy blinks twice at her enthusiasm as they approach the lone wooden table situated in the center of the warehouse.

Uh, do I know her? He ponders for a second before dismissing the thought.

A pale man with gloved hands and shaggy auburn hair holds a hand out to halt the girl behind him. “Calm down Toga, we haven’t spoken of negotiations yet, so I need you to be quiet.”

Toga pouts, nearly grasping a silver blade at her side but stills herself for now. In the meantime, she opts to fidget with the tubular machine wrapped around her body.

The three look up to view a small group illuminated by the light fixed above the wooden table. Their eyes swiftly count seven or eight of them surrounding that area, including the ringleader, and likely more hidden somewhere in the darkness around them. After all, any fine and experienced villainous group would know better than to invite the bosses of the most dangerous crime syndicate without being thoroughly prepared for a possible scuffle to occur.

However, for now, they all advance with the notion to talk first before unleashing quirks and violence (well most of them anyway).

“Welcome, welcome. I see you made it to this place without much trouble; you’re right on time,” Overhaul greets the three young men mildly, “Deku, Ground Zero, and Mercury.”

Midoriya walks forward as the center of their entourage to return the cordial greeting. “Yes, it’s nice to finally meet you, Kai Chisaki of the Shie Hassaikai yakuza. Otherwise known as Overhaul.”

“Ah, so you know of me and my cause. It seems our reputation precedes us.”

“Of course. The Shie Hassaikai yakuza has long been in business in the crime world…” Midoriya muses, “Though they’ve wrung out past their former glory. Having since been pushed back into the underground after the rise of heroes.”

Bakugou smirks, close to letting out a snicker at the backhanded comment.

It’s true. While the Shie Hassaikai were one of the main criminal groups running the yakuza underground, that all soon fell and crumbled as the surge of heroes came into society. It was only after the former boss’ grandson, Kai Chisaki, came into power and took leadership that their name grew back into prominence once again, albeit little by little.

“Why you little–” A man donning a long white raincoat and plague doctor mask swiftly appears with a pistol pointed in Midoriya’s direction, none too amused by the remark. However, he’s cut off by a wall of ice erected at Midoriya’s side.

“Watch where you point those toys you little rat,” Todoroki sneers, and the tone of his voice nearly exposes chills to the air.

“Calm down, Chrono. We’re the ones that invited them as guests, thus we need to treat them like so.”

The white-haired subordinate withdraws at the words of his leader, retracting the gun back into the pocket of his coat.

“I apologize, he’s simply on edge over the fact we have some pretty powerful people at our doorstep. You’ll have to excuse him.”

“It’s quite all–”

“Did we come here to talk, or did we come here to fight?” Bakugou barges through, shoving past Midoriya with no restraint.

“I thought this was a fucking negotiation, not an apology fess. If one of your dogs is so edgy, I’d be happy to give him a good thrashing to satiate him if you want,” his raised hand sparks and flickers in the dark, “If not then get to it, Overhaul,” he threatens. Midoriya sighs.

“I think we’re simply all… piqued as to why this meeting was demanded out of nowhere and scheduled for the dead of the night no less, but I’m sure you have some important matters to discuss with us right, Overhaul?” Midoriya reasons, a sly grin on his lips.

“Right, let's get to it shall we?” Approaching closer to the table separating them, Overhaul continues, “First off, I must congratulate you on successfully infiltrating that gala the other night. Not many crime organizations can sneak into a party of that caliber. Especially when it’s so heavily guarded and kept secretive to all suspicious eyes of the dark,” he commends, digging a hand into the pocket of his jacket.

The three exchange quick, wary glances from the corner of their eyes that the opposite party misses.

“You were there?” Todoroki questions bluntly in which Overhaul hums in response.

“Hm, yes. But for different reasons, I’m sure. You see, I’ve been… examining little details of the Yuuei mafia group recently. It fascinates me how well-oiled and efficient you are at running your organization, so I began to ponder: ‘How do they do it?’ Little did I know, the answer all became more than clear to me from what I saw at that gala,” the auburn-haired man drawls, finally plucking out a photo from his pocket and sliding it across the wood under the light.

The moment the three recognized the image, their eyes widened, soon shifting into visages of sheer hostility at the next statement pronounced.

“This girl here? I want her.”

Within the confines of the paper is ____, dressed in the red gown she wore the very night of the gala, a masquerade mask over her features with the purpose to obscure herself in the throng.

The three before Overhaul seethe vessels of wrath.

“What did you just say? Do you even know what you’re asking of us?” Todoroki feels icy and heated atmospheres form on his opposing left and right sides upon hearing Overhaul’s words, sensing the tension rising around his fellow partners as well.

“The girl, I must say, does excellent work at her job. She’s skilled and tactical, having infiltrated many influential organizations and assassinated several powerful faces getting in the way of your mafia group. Such precision, efficiency, and beauty makes her the perfect woman, wouldn’t you agree?” He picks up the picture, bringing it up next to him.

Given the deadly pressure in the air, the next words he utters might be the final nail in his coffin.

“Well, I want you to hand her over to me.”

The nail is hit. There’s a lingering silence before hell nearly breaks loose and the next motions could deliver his soul down the River of Styx.

Fueled by blood-boiling anger and annoyance, Bakugou charges forward to land an explosive hit on the yakuza boss. “LIKE HELL WE WOULD, YA FUCKING BASTARD!” He’s thwarted by a yellow barrier emerging to shield the leader from the attack, courtesy of a henchman at his left side. The blonde jumps back, his hands still crackling and his rage not dissipating anytime soon. “Don’t go spewing a bunch of shit outta your mouth!”

“Now… let’s be rational or you’ll start getting dirt everywhere...” Overhaul dusts off his shoulder before resuming the conversation nonchalantly, “Of course I’ll provide you with compensation. I wouldn’t be so naive as to expect to be given something so valuable without offering payment after all.”

With a snap of his fingers a large, bulky man promptly lays a silver briefcase on the table. The locks click open to reveal wads of cash layering the case to the brim, enough to flabbergast and entice any common citizen in Japan.

“If this amount isn’t enough, I have another briefcase with—”

A jolting sound of the wooden table and metal briefcase breaking beneath Midoriya’s foot is enough to diminish the rest of Overhaul’s remark, signifying their blunt answer to his offer.

“What a waste of a night it’s been. Presenting money to us in hopes that we’d simply hand over our beloved like she’s some prostitute for sale? You're more of a fool than I took you for, Kai Chisaki,” Each word that rolls off Midoriya’s tongue is laced with venom. Such malice is enough to paralyze those who hear it, as if it would be the last statement they’ll ever listen to before hitting the concrete dead.

Reasoning with the trio any further is equivalent to bargaining with the god of the underworld, offering nothing but your knees on the floor and a sad pleading voice, only to be whisked back to the deepest, darkest chambers of hell.

Overhaul simply pauses before following with a long, testy sigh.

“A no then? Alright. Toga.”

The bun-headed blonde pounces forward at the command almost instantaneously, knife in her grasp and ready to swing. Midoriya moves to the side with ease, evading the blade as well as dodging a puncture from a needle. His agility is manifested in green electric currents of aura.

“Ooh, I finally get to cut up and obtain cute Izuku’s yummy blood!” She grins psychotically, keeping both eyes trained on the green-haired boy. “Heehee, I’ve been waiting for this day! Ever since I saw that photo of you all bruised up in a fight, I had to have you all to myself! I just love a man all red and bloodied!” Toga exclaims in utter glee, giggling like a schoolgirl meeting her celebrity idol.

Midoriya grimaces, nearly shivering at her excitement over announcing her neurotic confession to him. Her contorted facade is not earning her any points either. Taking notice of the wary expression that crosses his brows, Toga grins wider.

“It’s OK, even if you don’t like me now, you’ll definitely like me when I get a drop of that girl’s blood and transform into her! We’ll look so much alike, you’ll have heart-eyes for me too!” Her features curve into a look of pure hysteric that leaves Midoriya speechless, so much so it takes a loud blast hurled past him to finally bring his senses back to the conflict.

“Move it, Deku!” Bakugou’s attacks are relentless and powerful, but Toga’s nimbleness prevents her from getting hit.

“Deku, Ground Zero, back up,” Todoroki raises his left hand, the corresponding side flaring with heat before quickly igniting into bright hot flames enough to cover his entire arm. “You lot have some nerve to call us and arrange this abhorrent deal under the guise of a ‘negotiation.’ I’ll incinerate you all for even thinking you could take her from us.”

His quirk is unleashed in a flurry of fire that’s launched toward his enemies.

“Dabi,” Overhaul signals and a lanky man with patched, burnt scars and skin held together by staples and stitches steps forward, triggering his blue blazes to combat the red-orange ones. The infernos collide into a firestorm that soon scatters and disperses due to a power struggle.

“Tch,” Todoroki narrows his brows, annoyed.

“Hm, the brat’s not all talk after all,” Dabi’s expression remains stoic while his hand hovers in front of him, still swallowed by his azure flames. Wordlessly he releases his blazes once more only to be countered by Todoroki’s wall of ice diminishing the onslaught of fire.

On their end, Midoriya and Bakugou are in pursuit of the head honcho Overhaul himself, while attempting to throw blows at Toga along the way.

Now enveloped in energy that increases his strength and dexterity tenfold, it isn’t long until the green-haired young man catches up to crafty Toga’s momentum. With a grunt, Midoriya kicks forward, swinging his foot into the girl’s direction with tremendous force that’s too quick for her to avoid.

Toga braces herself for the impact but the attack never meets. Instead, a yellow shield materializes in front of her to take the blow, a crack now evident on the surface of the saffron safeguard. “Oooh! Izuku’s really out for blood! How thrilling!” she squeals, licking her lips.

“It’s that fucking barrier bastard again! Move over, I’ll kill him!” yells a pissed Bakugou who jumps over Midoriya’s head, running across the top of the manifested barrier. From there, he spots his offender.

Gritting his teeth, he dashes off the shield before it can disappear and uses it to propel himself forward. His palms glow and envelope themselves with heat as he holds them outward.

“Rappa! I can’t conduct another shield so quickly, get him!” Tengai, the one with the barrier quirk, hastens his partner. Rappa zealously swoops in front of him with iron-knuckle gloves ready.

“Oh no, you don’t! Try and fucking dodge this!” Bakugou brings his hands forward while still in midair, “Stun Grenade!” A radiant, gleaming light emits from his palms, effectively blinding all those within his vicinity.

Rappa and Tengai have no choice but to cover their eyes from the intensity of the light, leaving them wide open to strike!

Without hesitation, the ash-blonde creates two more explosions to launch himself forward, spinning in the air and gathering momentum before firing his attack encased in an explosive tornado.

“Howitzer Impact!!”

In an instance, a flash exudes in a fiery burst of nuclear reaction, which releases violent discharges of kinetic energy towards his enemies. The attack hits home, covering a chuck of the area with debris and rubble, and producing a hole on the right side of the warehouse.

Tengai and Rappa are incapacitated.

“Kac— Ground Zero, you went all out didn’t you…” Midoriya mutters while holding Toga down despite all her fidgeting. In a last-ditch effort, the girl draws out the spare knife tucked away in her utility belt, however the young man on top of her knocks it away before she can react any further.

“Toga, am I correct? I suggest you stand down, or I may have to break something to make you cooperate.” Midoriya’s warning exudes a menacing tone, in contrast to his former courteous character and the gentle features adorning his face. Yet Toga does not seem fazed by this.

“Heehee, you’re so cute when you make threats like that…” she giggles, shifting her head ever so slightly to catch glimpses of the male’s appearance. He’s quite disheveled down to his wrinkled suit, unbuttoned collar, sweat glistening on his forehead, and what’s this?

Toga peeks at a single crimson line split on the skin of his cheek with dilated pupils.

“Even though you were so fast, I at least managed to graze you just a teeny-tiny bit! That scarlet cut looks so nice on you, Izuku, aw how I wish I can give you more!” She prattles on and on, beaming over every utterance spoken past her lips. “I did say red is the best color on you, after all!”

Midoriya’s eyes narrow at her behavior, fists clenched and apt to deliver a silencing blow.

“Although… blue wouldn’t look half bad either.”

Unable to express confusion at her remark, he soon perceives a blast of cerulean blue flames aimed and released in his direction, forcing him to jump up to dodge the attack. Toga makes her escape after the fire diffuses, withdrawing next to Dabi. The patched man continues his onslaught on Todoroki and Midoriya.

“They’ve managed to defeat our spear and shield, and nearly took out Toga,” Overhaul’s stance is methodical and calculating, overseeing the fight from the back lines of his unit with a gloved hand beneath his chin. “I suppose it’s time to use that,” he declares.

Chrono briefly glances at him before reaching for a gun in the pocket of his coat—a different weapon from the pistol he pointed at Midoriya earlier. In a container held behind him, he produces a peculiarly shaped bullet, one that takes on the form of a cartridge with a hypodermic needle sticking out on one end.

“Dabi, when these bullets hit, that will be your chance to burn them all away,” orders the auburn-haired man. He raises an arm to prep for the signal as Chrono readies the gun wielded in his hand, positioning his target onto the spiky blonde mafia boss.

“Ha! You think a pathetic little gun is going to stop me?!” While Bakugou exudes confidence and arrogance, his dual-haired comrade is not as keen about the situation at hand.

Why would those fools try to use such a primitive method of fighting at this point? They saw how useless that gun was earlier… ponders Todoroki in the heat of battle, Unless…

“Ground Zero! Be careful! There’s something fishy about that weapon they’re using!” he warns, making the blonde’s expression fix into an irritated glare.

“Shut up Icy-Hot; I know what I’m doing! Why don’t you pay attention to patchwork over there before you get another scar!” Bakugou quips back, eyes never leaving Overhaul. “I’m gonna make this washout yakuza leader regret ever giving us a call to this useless negotiation.”

The man is impassive at the blonde’s threats, lips remaining in a fine line underneath his mask. His arm stays raised next to him for Chrono to acknowledge.

At once, Bakugou’s body launches back into action like a jet engine propelling a rocket. His movements gather more and more sweat to strengthen himself for another devastating assault.

“Pesky thing won’t stop moving…” mutters Chrono, hand continually shifting aim at Bakugou’s unpredictable tumbling. “I’ll just make you sit still!”

On command, arrow-shaped hair pierces through the fabric of his hood and extends straight to Bakugou. His quirk’s versatility and quick instincts allow him to evade the attack to the left with ease. However, it seems Chrono was waiting for that very moment as the blonde is now within his gun’s line of sight.

Overhaul draws his hand down, giving Chrono the signal to finally pull the trigger. A crack of a sonic boom resonates within the single millisecond it is shot. The dart is fired.

The gunshot rings throughout the space of the warehouse. Todoroki and Midoriya can barely register the shot in time to yell out to Bakugou, whose head turns toward the capsule’s velocity in almost slow motion.

Crap..! he curses, unable to move away to escape the bullet in time and preparing to embrace the shot.

However, it never makes its mark.

“Boss! Watch out!”

A gruff voice suddenly makes its debut within the fray, taking everyone by surprise as the newcomer throws himself in front of Bakugou, hardened arms crossed.

“What the—!”

Chrono watches in despair. The bullet ricochets right off the rock-like body of a man with spiked tufts of crimson red hair.

“What the hell? Red Riot?!” sputters a bewildered Bakugou at Kirishima’s abrupt entrance.

“D-Dammit!” Chrono tries to fire again to rectify his failure, but his attempt is in vain. Something muscly wraps around his arm tightly, tossing him away.

“Froppy!” Midoriya calls out to the girl as she retracts her froggy tongue, currently clung to the wall, and camouflaged into her surroundings. She reveals herself into the battle with a small “ribbit.”

“While you guys were inside, a bunch of their goons started surrounding our cars. We knew something shady was up, especially when we heard explosions coming from inside, so we busted our way in here right past them!” Kirishima explains, now standing back-to-back against Bakugou, “Seems like you’re fighting a battle too!”

“I see, so they planned on ambushing all of us if we didn’t comply with their deal,” says Todoroki. He fires more flames in their direction. “How pathetic. They were woefully unprepared.”

“Agreed! Ambushing is no way to fight! Real men would come at us head-on!” Kirishima emphasizes his fierceness through clanking his hardened fists against each other, jagged edges sparking.

“Red Riot! Froppy!” exclaims Midoriya, “Where are the others?”

Asui ribbits before answering, “They’re handling the rest of the—”

“L-Leader..! Leader!” a frantic voice shouts from the entrance of the warehouse, where a ragged up Shie Hassaikai henchman tries to pry inside.

“T-The girl..! She isn’t h-here, she isn’t— GAH!”

His message is interrupted. A menacing shadowy figure looms over the goon like a monster hiding within the dark and throws him back to the struggle outside, proceeding to rampage across the battlefield. Desperate cries leak out but to no avail.

Overhaul discerns the sputtered message:

The girl he so desired was not with them to begin with.

To his dismay, this fight was pointless. If what he sought could not be forcibly taken right then and there, then there is no reason to continue the battle. There was no prize to be won by the end of it all.

Now, he must adjust his plans due to the unfavorable news. How tragic.

At the thought of having lost time, energy, and resources, the yakuza leader pinches the bridge of his nose, utterly furious. There’s a pause in which Overhaul seethes an aura of killing intent over this frustration.

But it eventually simmers and subsides. What happens now cannot be changed, no matter how enraged he is. So he must take logical steps to preserve and remedy the repercussions, which to him was simple:

“We’re withdrawing.”

“What?” Dabi looks at him incredulously, “After all this?”

“Yes, they've taken down our spear and shield, and have wiped out the majority of the soldiers. If what we want isn’t here, then there is no point in staying,” Overhaul’s husky tone bears weight and authority at every word.

“Nemoto, grab Chrono from wherever he was thrown.”

“Yes, Overhaul. What about Rappa and Tengai?”

The auburn-haired man doesn’t so much as spare a glance toward his two defeated subordinates lying on the ground, “Leave them. They’re expendable to me.”

Nemoto nods, going to gather a knocked out Chrono thrown across the warehouse and now lying unconscious atop broken wooden crates.

Midoriya’s fists clenched tightly at the scene, realizing what the yakuza’s next plan of action was going to be.

“They’re trying to escape!”

“Oh, the fuck they are. I won’t let a single one of you bastards leave!” Bakugou bursts into the air, propelled by the explosions from his palms in hot pursuit, with Midoriya catching up thanks to his heightened speeds.

“Sorry boys, party’s over!” Toga intercepts the two using twin knives flung in their direction, catching them off guard. Dabi follows the diversion by gathering a massive amount of flames into his hands before swiftly releasing the kindled energy to erect a blue wall of fire throughout his surroundings.

“Bye Izuku~!” a feminine voice shrills from behind the fiery wall, becoming the last words they hear as they wait for the flames to dissipate, ultimately revealing that their enemies had already fled.

“Those fuckers couldn’t have gone far,” Bakugou doesn’t relent, poised on finding them and having them pay the full consequences of their actions. Midoriya grasps his shoulder, stopping him.

“Let them go, Kacchan. Considering the location they decided for this meeting, they likely fled by boat. We have no way of following them at the moment.”

Todoroki agrees, adding on, “Besides, there are more important things to worry about right now,” he casts his gaze to the wooden table Midoriya had broken prior to the fight transpiring. “For one, they’re after ____ and are willing to go to any lengths to get her. We need to head back to the mansion to make sure she’s safe.” There’s slight urgency evident in his tone. Despite their tenacity, the idea of having their beloved wrenched away is enough to render them even a little bit fearful. Had she been present in the conflict, there’s no telling what could have happened.

“And two,” Todoroki walks off to another site of the warehouse, picking up something dropped on the floor, “we need to figure out what this is.” In his hand, he holds the small capsule bullet that is now slightly dented thanks to the impact against Kirishima’s hardened skin.

The other two examine the capsule briefly until Bakugou decides to take it from Todoroki’s fingers for closer inspection. If Overhaul was so keen on using a gun to do away with them all, despite how inferior it was, then this must be no ordinary bullet.

The three decide to contain the item for further examination for now as they, Kirishima, and Asui make their way outside again. There, bodies of Shie Hassaikai thugs littered the floor after having been thoroughly beaten into submission. Tokoyami, Yaoyorozu, Uraraka, and Kaminari lean against the cars casually but remain attentive after the fight.

“It was quite an ill-planned move to dare to attack us in the night,” Tokoyami’s eyes closed in thought at the havoc he wreaked thanks to the amplified powers of his quirk. Kaminari snickers and boasts with an electric snap of his fingers, “Yakuza didn’t know what hit them, the mafia always stays on top.”

“Excellent work everyone, it seems the henchmen were of no trouble to you,” Midoriya commends the squad, “Now, we must leave before the police arrive on the scene to assess the damage.”

Their six combatants all nod at the order, about to gather back in their vehicle until Bakugou huffs with a final statement before they make their getaway.

“Know that the next time we see those Shie Hassaikai bastards, we will take them down,” He narrows his eyes at the ocean, the moon still hanging above the sky and basking the waters in moonlight,

“without hesitation.”

Ending Notes | Whew.. thanks for reading! For the next part I was considering writing it in 2nd POV since the reader will actually be physically present during the events of the story now, but I’m not sure yet. Please let me know your thoughts and follow if you’re interested in this series <3

[hwallout]

quatervois - ljy

summary: “Listen up pretty boy, we’re both murderers. We carry the souls of hundreds on our weapons. It doesn’t fucking matter who our targets are. We’re the exact same; except, I’m honest and I only do this because it pays good fucking money, and what is it you’re striving for? With your ass always covered? Pitiful peace and justice? That’s pathetic. There’s no such thing in this job.”

words: 21,7k (this was 38 pages on word im,,,i birthed a monster im so sorry)

genre: assassin!juyeon, assassin!reader, angst, drama, fluff, crack if u use a microscope

warnings: (not explicit) violence, murder, language

early an: holy shit it’s here

The way you got introduced and became a part of such a job wasn’t exactly how one would imagine.

Becoming an assassin hasn’t been a direct wish of yours. As expected, in the beginning, this exact possibility had never crossed your mind. Growing up in an ordinary, middle-class household, it was expected of you to follow the footsteps of many. Never the smartest kid in class, but with a knack for logic and solving thought experiments, you’ve imagined becoming a philosopher of some type. Nothing too spectacular, but interesting enough and different than a usual 9-5 job.

So then, how exactly have you come to holding a knife against a random man’s throat almost daily?

Of course, while young, a person is prone to the effect of the outside world and people surrounding them. Some pupils are lucky enough to live in the best surroundings and are given amazing opportunities; therefore, they grow up into kind, successful people. Then, there are those who thanks to certain circumstances end up walking a different path, all of them hoping for the best possible outcome.

In today’s society, the importance of money was huge. It was expected that every family, containing at least one adult person, was able to deal with constant fluctuation of cash and sudden, unanticipated expenses. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case in many households and those kids had to experience helpless life without enough money, while their parents fought for every coin.

It was incredibly unfortunate that it affected you as well, even so in the worst possible moment – right before university.  

Thanks to stupid reasons that could’ve easily been prevented, your family fell into dept, causing both of your parents to find second jobs. Not having enough money to continue with a rather expensive education, you felt obliged to find a job.

And of course, being so young and ambitious, but mostly misfortune driven, you thought that the future of the household was in your hands. It was a must to find something that pays good, fast.

Consequently, the first night was spent scrolling down the endless pages of Google. You searched for something that didn’t require any special education (because of obvious reasons), but would generously help your situation. Seconds extended into minutes, those into hours, days even. Finding a good job with no degree was pretty hard, yet what else could’ve you expected?  

The issue had you visiting most irrelevant sites, clicking on shady ads (and installing a thousand viruses, probably), asking strangers in online chatrooms. Lost and unexperienced, you struggled and almost accepted the proposal of being a stripper in a famous strip club downtown.  

Almost.  

The job you were suddenly introduced to was something seen in movies and video games only. For whichever reason, it appeared in a dream one night. The dream had you play the main character, dressed in all black, doing all the terrifying, dirty work with random weapons, but being paid a huge sum afterwards. It was scandalous enough to have you hesitating for a little while upon waking up, disgusted at the thought of doing it.

Still, remembering the money filled suitcase, you’ve overcome the initial revulsion fast. Unexpectedly intrigued by the idea, you thought a little research couldn’t hurt anyone. Finding a reliable site that offered information on paid assassins only took a couple of minutes. The author of the article was an ex-FBI agent, therefore you thought there couldn’t be data more reliable than this. Upon a quick look, you’ve come to the conclusion that the study was most definitely written with intent of educating people on this topic, rather than motivating them to apply for it. Oh well.

From an objective point of view, it was exactly what you were looking for. It didn’t require any special degree from any university and it paid horrendously well, with small variations on the amount due to different employers. Reading further though, you realized that not just anyone can become an assassin, or hitman, as people liked to call it.

It demanded years of training, hard work and terrifying change. The author described it as “...complete mutation of one’s mind and personality, utter desensitization to almost everything. Those people become machines...”. You didn’t doubt their words, on the contrary, you believed them completely. It was only logical that a person has to get used to blood, extreme violence, emotionless murder, which were no ordinary or acceptable sights and actions. Of course, you were in denial, about to laugh at yourself for even reading the article seriously.

But then your eyes landed on the pay again. The numbers were huge. It would definitely help. Your family needed this. Sacrifices had to be made.

The next day, you bought a burner phone with the last bits of your savings. Entering an empty alley, you immediately dialed a phone number you’ve found at 3am. You didn’t know what was the worst that could happen, seeing as you were dialing a shady number from a shady website with shady intentions. Maybe the phone would blow up – in which case thankfully, it was a burner. But that then meant you wasted money with no reason.  

Thankfully, the other side picked up and scheduled a meeting for the next day.

Everything about it was suspicious, from the first to the last moment. From the first meeting with a tall, fat man, wearing an expensive suit and a shiny Rolex on his wrist, to the moment that exact man patted you on the back for good luck on your first mission.

The training was all you’ve expected and more. Tears, sweat and especially blood were shed during that tough period. You were put through complete torture – whether it be emotional or physical. In the beginning, they had you watch videos containing mild abuse of random people, only to progress to horrible violence as time passed by. In times where you wanted to look away, a stern and strong man would yell at you, ordering to stay focused on the task – one that would make you used and nonchalant to seeing such monstrosities.

You were trained to take words, threats and even hits with a straight face, only to return ten times harder. Sometimes you thought that self-defense classes you were offered but never took in the past, would’ve definitely helped with the current situation. Simple pistols were immediately introduced to you, strange looking men always pressuring you into improving the mediocre aim. More complicated guns and snipers were thrown in your direction upon noticeable improvement.

Surprisingly, they began “paying” you from the start. The big boss said it was because he noticed your potential and incredibly fast progress, therefore used the money as constant motivation for further improvement. Unfortunately, the trainees you’ve encountered weren’t so positive about it, saying it was the boss’ way of making sure no one ditches out once they enter (“you’ll have to pay the complete sum back, he basically indebted you”). The money you received wasn’t a lot, but it was definitely a good starting position.

In a relatively short period of time, a huge change happened. You’ve transformed from someone whose eyes watered at harsh words, body flinched at sudden movement and hands shook while holding a knife, to a person who had no trouble taking a hit to the face, only to counterattack by slitting throats.

Your knack for logic and solving thought experiments and predicting outcomes came in handy, for they’ve worked on further developing that as well. They created a thousand puzzles, testing possible situations (“you have to run away, which route do you take?", "two witnesses saw you; how do you deal with them without anyone else noticing?”), always questioning your answers (“but then wouldn’t that make you more exposed?”, “what if suddenly your target chose to change their usual route?”) and having you argument them thoroughly.

You were trained to notice even the smallest of similarities between two situations, perceive possible danger/risks, predict where a target would appear next based on their recent roundabouts and analyze certain types of behavior. Basically, they tried recreating situations that would slowly introduce you to the harder part of your future job – the planning, unnoticed execution and escape from the crime scene.

The boss had personally hired personnel to train your selective attention. Everything a normal person would pass by and dismiss, you’d notice. The unusual movement of leaves in the corner of your eyes, a black bird in a flock of dark grey ones, the inconsiderable change in a person’s demeanor, a reoccurring but overlooked detail in everyday situations.

Friends weren't particularly made in such a setting; therefore, like many others, you've been alone through it all. Evidently, you've noticed other people around, mostly teenagers who were just introduced to the whole thing – yet never really bothered or had enough time to go and meet them. Everybody was just as scared and hesitant as you were when it all started. In the end, who knew who you'd have to fight against in the future. “Save yourself a heartbreak”.

Interestingly enough though, there was a boy who caught your eye. You weren’t sure when he was recruited, for he never seemed lost or inexperienced. The boy would walk confidently around the training site, shoot exceedingly well at the shooting range and progress through his endurance training perfectly.

Silently, you watched and admired the handsome boy with attentive eyes. Everything about him was as captivating as ever, further piquing your interest with every passing day. His form and skill were envious, while his mature behavior and breathtaking looks stole your breath away.

Eventually though, the boy disappeared.

Your parents were a sensitive topic. At first, they were told the job you found didn't have fixed hours, which sounded like the only logical explanation for why you never came home at the same time.

When the training became more serious and the changes in your personality and looks became obvious, you stopped seeing them. The place of stay was a motel a couple of miles away from the training site (or the supposed store you lied working at). Despite their constant messages and phone calls, pleads to come back home and stop “overworking” yourself, you stood your ground. The money you were paid was still linked back to them, and after a while you were informed that the debt was no more.  

Unfortunately, though, you've come to the point where you didn't want to back out from this horrendous job. And a couple months later, the boss forced you to cut contact with your parents.

Maybe it was for the better, because it wasn't possible to predict if they'd even recognize you. Their daughter built muscle, had a scarred body and went through a drastic change of personality. The desensitization did wonders to young minds. It came to the point where you were able to firstly watch and then execute a certain violent act (on a specialized, human-like doll), without having to look away. The two elders definitely wouldn't want such a person in their household.  

Although there really should've been, there was no shame or regret once the trainee period was finished and your feet set out on the first ever mission and first real kill.

Fast forward a few years after the first mission, and you were considered a high valued assassin.  

There really was no proper reason, but the flow of the river happened to direct you towards the more infamous customers. Drug dealers, wanted criminals, corrupted politicians, all sorts of people involved with illegality hired you. Over time, you've gotten used to it. Already familiarized with customers, type of targets and forms of execution, switching to work for a different type of people simply stopped crossing your mind.

Your prices weren't low at all. Actually, they were one of the highest for the job, yet with a great reason. Despite the victim count passing hundred, there hasn't been a single case that was ever (properly) solved, the employers always getting away with their work. Not even once have you been suspected or connected to any of the assassinations either, and it was all thanks to your tactics.

One could argue that there weren’t many ways a person could be murdered, but you managed to prove such a statement wrong. Not a lot of executions you've done followed the same path – which only showed how creative but also knowledgeable your mind was.

Because of one simple hair strand, whose color faded a long time ago, they called you Red. The nickname stuck with you ever since those torturous, trainee days, and nowadays, it helped avoid using your real name. You doubted anyone even knew what it was.

An interesting period began during your sixth year. Numerous politicians, usually the ones that heavily opposed the new government, would be found dead around the city. Not just them, but gang and mafia leaders who became too powerful and prominent in the public eye as well – many of those who hired you in the past.

Much like always, this government experienced the lack of trust and satisfaction from citizens. Rightfully so though, the public demanded change after supposed rigged elections, finally having enough of the fake democracy. Heavy and frequent protests blew up the nation, huge crowds of people led by a few brave individuals. Unfortunately, though, a few weeks in, the leaders of those would be found dead after announcing the protest scheme.

The terrifying amount of sudden assassinations were never solved or explained. At least to the public. The huge leap in numbers shouldn’t have been thrown under the mat so easily, yet it just happened. People began living in anger and fear. All the officials had to say about it was a simple “we're looking into it, but it’s not our main priority”, words that only intensified the rage felt by the citizens. That topic would always be dismissed with the same exact answer, occasionally adding that those assassinated already had “worrisome and problematic backgrounds”.

“It was only a matter of time when something as tragic as death would happen to them”

The situations greatly benefitted them; they wouldn't make an effort to explain whatever happened even if they weren't involved. All of those people worked against them, one way or another anyway. Still, the murders weren't spontaneous, and just like many others, you caught onto their sly play.

For a little while, you tried getting some insight and information on the cases. Your intentions weren’t to solve them and serve justice, but rather find whoever was the one hired by the government. It was pure curiosity to know who was the infamous colleague.

The information given to the public (obviously) wasn't much, and you were left connecting all the different cases using simple wide shots and shitty descriptions. The best source of information appeared to be freelancing journalists, who published the most details. Unsurprisingly though, those weren't enough for a proper open case either, for someone evidently prohibited them from posting more.

One thing that had you frowning was the fact that everything was way too clean, perfect and similar to your own way of work.

Closing the laptop after reading yet another empty article, you looked around the dark room. Sighing out in frustration and cracking fingers one by one, you wondered if you're supposed to consider those people your actual colleagues or rather enemies.

The clock ticked eleven and fifteen; just forty-five minutes before midnight. The atmosphere in the tiny apartment was calm, no sound other than your quiet breathing heard. Darkness filling your bedroom was only interrupted by the big moon that greeted you through an open window. Yet, much like any other Friday, the outside world seemed to be bustling with life, getting ready for what's yet to come.  

Standing up, you stretched fast and walked towards the entrance door. Picking up a black coat from the hanger, keys and phone from the little table next to it, you headed outside. Tomorrow was yet another mission, this time a man by the name of Lee Baekgon. The reason was usual, another member of a gang who had involved himself with the government, becoming an unfortunate mole.  

Thanks to the extensive week-long watch and study you've done on the man you had gotten used to his ethics and everyday habits. The experience you had and the surprisingly uninteresting and bland life of Lee Baekgon allowed you to do so in such little time – which always brought more money. The faster the execution is, the more expensive it is, and of course, you cared about the amount in your pocket.

Now, having everything planned out and prepared, you went out for a relaxing walk – as per usual on the night before. The streets were filled with people, hurrying in all directions, either coming back from their late shifts or going out with their friends.

Setting a regular pace, you camouflaged into the crowd and breathed in heavily. Colorful lights from nearby stores lit up the street in a thousand shades, creating a unique palette out of the usually dull path. Your eyes skimmed over people, not really staying locked on anyone's head or scalp. All of them were plain shapes to you, only looking similar to those who you've had the job of executing. Either way, it was pleasurable to hear the overall sound of people. The voices, laughs, gasps.

Suddenly and surprisingly, as if trained, your eyes locked onto a tall, lean, dark blue haired man walking in the opposite direction. It could’ve been because of his height or hair, but he stuck out of the dense crowd like a sore thumb. The stranger wasn't looking at you, rather ahead of himself, but you immediately scanned his profile. An unfamiliar feeling spread through your body, sending shivers down your spine.

The man carried himself with a certain kind of confidence, his steps calm and collected. He held his head high, looking forward as if staring at an invisible dot, walking towards an unknown destination. His eyes, although dark and hooded, were sharp and focused. The nose bridge of his created a slight shadow over the side of his handsome face.

Unexpectedly, as if sensing your eyes, the man looked back for a short second. Immediately, a familiar image of a teenage boy who exceeded in all training fields flashed before your eyes. Alas, before you knew it the man was taking a sharp turn and straying away from view.

The organ inside of your chest performed one incredibly hard beat, before going back to normal. Someone bumped your shoulder, apologizing right away and breaking the short-lived daze. For another moment, you stood motionless, looking in the direction of the other, the blue strands now long gone.

Shaking your head quickly and picking the pace up again, you tried processing what has just happened.

You'd see the man quite often after laying eyes on him for the first time. He even had a nickname. Blue.

Blue's fashion was quite predictable now, for the man seemed not to prefer colorful clothes. During the day, his wardrobe consisted of simple t-shirts, black jeans and occasional black leather jacket. One thing that changed almost daily though, was the bag that he'd carry. Nonetheless, Blue would always walk as nonchalantly and confidently as ever.

Each time you'd encounter him, the man would remind you of that certain boy. Weirdly enough, Blue never once looked back, no matter how many times or how close you'd pass by. No matter what though, you'd notice the same pair of sharp eyes peeking through thick blue bangs – a feature you very well remember.

The second thing that would have anyone's interest piqued, was that you'd see the man at the shooting field as well. On the days when you decided on visiting and practicing your (already impressive) aim, he would already be there. You'd watch from afar, the last couple of shots he'd take before turning around to leave. The male never once stayed any longer. Blue wouldn't even check on his hits - he'd shoot thrice and leave immediately.

A thing that many would fail to notice, would be the fast movement of his arms as he pushed the gun back into his rucksack.

Over time, you've realized that the number of encounters with Blue was too great for a stranger. The possibility of it not being an accident started bugging you. Eventually, it became worrying.

In the dead time of the night, while walking through forgotten alleyways no one really passes through, you'd see him. On rainy nights, while everyone else ran or hid away as to not get soaked, Blue would walk calmly.  

And maybe he had always been there, yet you simply never cared or gave it enough attention up until recently. Or maybe, it was something more serious.

His sight would often be locked onto his feet, hands shoved deep into jean pockets. During the night, Blue would wear all black, a mask and hood frequently covering up his face, yet the dark blue strands never failed to peek out. He'd also wear the same black worn out backpack, the one he never brought out in the daylight.

Although you've met and dealt with many different kinds of people, never once had someone managed to make you feel so curious but anxious at the same time. Neither of those feelings felt good.

Despite your initial pleasant surprise, Blue became someone who you disliked pretty fast. It bugged you how the two worlds happened to overlap at the most unconventional of times. Whether it was when you were spying on someone, following them or coming back to the base with blood on your hands, the man would make his appearance. You suddenly felt as if this stranger had a whole insight of your life and knew all of your secrets. As if he was aware of your job and worked as a spy whose target was you.

Feeling apprehensive was something you never expected to experience, especially while out of work. For the first time ever though, you thought about executing someone who you weren't ordered to take out.  

Thanks to instances such as those stated earlier, you've developed a side mission over time. As if in you were in a game and suddenly had to unlock another small part of the main story to progress. There was an undying need to find out if your suspicions were correct and what exactly was so off-putting, upsetting about this man (who seemingly did no real harm to you). And of course, if there was a way to fix it before jumping to the last, desperate solution.

Truthfully, you never got any thrill from the pure act of execution. Taking someone's life was as emotional as raw poetry, but those emotions were never felt by the heart, much less the brain. Sometimes you wondered what your thoughts on everything would've been if you hadn't changed so much.

Taking another deep breath, you grit your teeth and backed the scared man against a wall. With a knife held close to his Adam's apple, the man gulped and winced for the last time. Fat beads of sweat raced each other against his neck. There was no remorse for the other – neither him or the rest of his happy family.

You didn't hear the pleads and wishes of the victim, as the cotton gag filling his mouth prevented any noise from escaping. The thin blade sliced through skin and flesh in a delicate manner, effectively damaging his windpipe. The man gasped for air, but only coughed back blood. White cotton soon changed color. Watching the white material turning red didn't make you feel any different, just like the eyes of the man who struggled in pure agony.

Only when it looked like the blood was about to create a puddle on the ground, did you remove the cotton. The other gasped two, three more times, too exhausted and lightheaded to take any action. With much force, you pulled the body towards an open manhole and dumped it inside, listening to the way it heavily fell into the water.

That's what drug debt does to you.

Closing the manhole up, you stuffed the bloody cotton inside your coat and hid the knife inside of your boot. Taking off black gloves and mask, you pushed them beside the cotton and walked in the opposing direction than the one you came from.

The connected alleyways seemed to go on forever, but they were no unfamiliar place to you. To say that you used them often wasn't a lie, but there was rarely anyone else doing the same. Light steps echoed shortly; the fog that unusually filled the tight space became thicker as you delved deeper. Suddenly, there was yet another echo coming from the other direction. The person was seemingly walking towards you. Unconsciously, you prepared to reach down for the knife.

Through the fog you could faintly make out a silhouette of a man approaching. Every step you took allowed a clearer view of the other, and eventually the full sight of his figure. With an exaggerated eye roll and in pure disbelief, you silently cursed your absolute luck. It once again proved to be just who you expected.  

Blue walked with hurried steps, something you haven't seen before. Upon coming close enough to you, he looked up from the ground, pace slowing down and eyes meeting for the first time in a long while. Time seemed to slow down as well for both, one short moment extending to unexpected lengths.  

Both were dressed in similar, dark attire, carrying a fake expression of innocence. Yet, the moment their irises met, a certain feeling spread throughout their bodies, as if they quietly confirmed it wasn't a coincidence that they met here at this time.  

No words were exchanged, the moment finally ending as you passed by each other. There was a strong urge to look back after the other, but an inner voice whispered quietly, saying it was smarter not to do so. Not even when the man's steps promptly stopped echoing and you felt eyes on your back.  

A couple of steps later, you picked up on a sudden, but barely noticeable smell of human blood. For a moment, you were tricked into thinking it was the cotton or knife that were stuffed inside your coat. Still, the closer you got to a certain container leaning against a building wall, you realized it couldn't be it.

Once a foot away from the huge object, you stopped. The smell wasn't at all strong, but still noticeable enough. You didn’t want to interfere with whatever took place, but it didn’t take long to realize someone laid dead in there. In the end, it was the smell you were surrounded with pretty much daily.

Dots were beginning to connect slowly, but you were once again forced into moving. The feeling of being watched was making you feel uneasy, but this time you were tempted enough to turn around.  

There was no one standing where you expected them to. He was gone.

Sighing out loud, you turned around, took a quick left and finally walked out of the alleyway. There were almost no people on the streets, and the weird feeling was finally gone. The walk back to the base was just enough time to analyze all the different possibilities that unexpectedly plagued your mind.

It shouldn’t have surprised you that it happened so soon.  

A few rather peaceful days have passed since your last encounter with him. Time seemingly fled by, but unlike many other, these days were calm. The missions have come to a stale; therefore, you effectively used your free time to do chores and visit the market. In the end, the fridge wouldn't fill itself up.

The thin paper bag swung side to side as you walked. Cans and bottles made an unrecognizable but even melody as they clashed against each other. Lost in thought, you aimlessly walked forwards, enjoying the cool gust of wind hitting your face.  

But then, in the corner of an eye, you picked up on a man running towards you.

He was in his forties, a body of short, strong and somewhat fat build covered by a formal, grey suit. There was little to no hair in the middle of his head, while two thick patches spread on the sides. He wore a panicked expression, eyebrows furrowed and eyes all but screaming for help. It took him only a few seconds to reach you.

“Miss?” The man panted, immediately bending down to place his hands on his shaking knees. “Miss, I beg for your help”.

Glancing at his face again, you recognized the other as Mr. White - a man who has been barking against the government quite a lot recently. The propaganda he preached was slowly but surely gaining more supporters, and it suddenly clicked for you. This little rat probably had a sudden reason to feel unsafe and afraid of experiencing the same end as many others. What a shame he was brave only on the TV.

For a moment, you were hesitant, unsure if accepting to help was a right thing to do. Especially when such a person was in question. You waited a minute, while the other gathered his thoughts and managed to form coherent words. He must’ve sensed your reluctance, for not another second was wasted before he began explaining.

“I’m sorry, I feel exposed and like I’m being followed and...” Mr. White went on, blabbering something you only hummed along to, while scanning the surroundings. The park he came from wasn’t that crowded, unlike the last time you’ve passed by. There were only a few families playing with their kids and people walking their dogs.  

Nothing out of the ordinary, yet a certain man walking a tall Doberman managed to have you interested.

“...that hooded man...”

Lips moving to form a smirk, you almost patted yourself on the back for suspecting the right person. The stranger was rather tall, wearing black fitting jeans and an oversized cherry red hoodie. Despite it being warm outside, a big hood was pulled over his head, and his face was somewhat covered by a cap he wore underneath. A strong hand gripped the chain leash that held a dauntingly big, black Doberman on a trained distance, walking in a calm pace. The dog was huge, with ears pointed up and forwards, steps elegant but threatening. One could swear that it could rip a man’s head off with one bite.

“Why didn’t you take a taxi?” You asked back, cutting off the current ongoing speech.

“I tried... I tried calling for one but... none... none stopped, please help me... stay with me, wait with me” He practically begged, knees bent and hands pressing together as if praying. Passerby watched the scene unfold with surprised expressions, some even mocking the way the male behaved. Frowning at the current situation, you pulled the man up by his bicep, not in the mood for any unnecessary drama. He looked way too pathetic.  

Nodding as a reply, you started walking towards the pedestrian crossing not so far away. On the other side, at the designated spot, you’d be able to call for a taxi.

The whole time, you ordered Mr. White to walk in front - as if your smaller form would be any coverage for him. Despite not being strong, the wind was still powerful enough to carry the quiet echo of footsteps behind you. The person walked with the same pace, keeping suspicious distance.

Once at the traffic light, you stopped. The panicked politician didn’t dare move, his limbs stiff and frozen like a paused frame. At the given moment, you weren’t sure if the man was even breathing – his chest wasn’t at all moving. Unfortunately, the wait for the light to turn green was quite long. The steps that used to echo behind you came to a halt as the suspicious man finally caught up. It was then that you turned around to look at him – eyes meeting with a pair that held no emotion inside of them.

Blue looked even more handsome up close and in broad daylight. With fierce eyes and dominant aura, he seemed quite intimidating. While his facial features now resembled a grown man, they once again reminded you of that certain young boy. It was a sudden flash of clear memory, something you’ve only experienced while crossing paths the blue haired man.

Blue attentively caught onto your interested gaze, for his eyebrow rose and lips formed a smirk. Slowly, as if you were supposed to notice, he glanced behind at the motionless politician and then back at you, this time with a wider smirk. Such a bold move.

And of course, it shouldn’t have surprised you that it was him. Coincidence no more; your doubts were crumbling down like a house of cards thanks to the sudden stimuli.

The black dog watched you like prey, hungry eyes tracking every move. Thankfully, it was properly held in its place by the stronger man.

As soon as the light turned green, Blue took off, not sparing any more attention to neither of the two. The Doberman trailed in suit, walking graciously beside its owner, following the exact pace. You let him a few steps ahead, before crossing the street with Mr. White who seemed more relaxed now.

Paying the last bit of attention to the young man, your eyes unconsciously trailed down his leg. Immediately, you noticed the outline of a certain object that strained against the material of his fitting jeans. With a quick analysis, you recognized the weird shape – it was a knife.

That was it; exactly all the additional information you needed. The young boy grew up to be someone you now worked against.

Work, work, work. That’s all your mind was filled with for the past few weeks, and with a good reason. Being an undiscovered assassin often demanded immense amounts of creativity (which really proved to be hard when unmotivated) to avoid similarities between cases. Sometimes, you even had to choose the riskier and more public approach, much like today.

The current mission demanded a month-long preparation and as crazy as it might sound, obtaining explosive was the easiest part of it. You were lucky to have a couple of acquaintances who somehow had the exact stuff you needed, and at a great price as well.

For exactly four weeks, you’ve watched over a certain man, a tall, strong and well-known drug dealer called K. Besides actively selling all sorts of opium and illegal substances, the man led a powerful gang named The Vipers. You’ve never been hired by that gang, but you’ve heard a lot about them through numerous connections and accidental eavesdropping. Sometimes, you thought that assassins were the biggest threat to their employers, thanks to the amount of insider knowledge they pick up on over time.

The Vipers heavily depended on their leaders, brothers K and B. The older sibling, K, as the stronger leader, took most control over their big bites, while B did the other, sporadic and less serious work. Still, they cooperated perfectly, working in sync to create a big, illegal underground market, that the government never spoke about.

Unfortunately, they got themselves into a big fuss with another powerful gang, Weiro, the details never once directly explained to you. There were a couple of things that you could’ve suspected went down, but really, it wasn’t your job and interest. Anyhow, Weiro employed you, with a strict order to kill K in an extravagant way that will have his gang warned properly. Their request had your eyes rolling back; music wishes were never a favorite.

For a whole month, you studied the man, all of his whereabouts and paid attention to the people he interacted with from an unassuming distance. While K probably lived a very stressful and interesting life behind the closed doors of his hideouts and warehouses, his everyday ethics were pretty bland and easy to predict. Of course, you weren’t the one to complain, for it made your job easier.

During that time, you’ve also thought of an extravagant but careful enough way to finish the mission. Thankfully, creativity wasn’t a skill you lacked most of the time.  

The plan was simple when broken down. Every third day, at 4pm, K. drives from his home to The Vipers’ main warehouse. He takes the exact same route to reach that destination in the shortest period of time, driving either his black Porsche or B’s red Dodge. Both cars were one of a kind in the area. There are exactly 6 traffic lights he has to stop at before advancing to the highway and leaving the city. With some advanced work, you managed to interfere with them through a tiny device that was set up and connected to a phone. It still didn’t work at command (which you wish it did), but it bought some time by prolonging the red light.

Thankfully, your city had a wide chain of sewers that spread under every single street, numerous manholes leading in and out.  

The public town cameras positioned at almost every corner were connected to your phone as well, allowing a great view of the street you’ll be operating on – or underneath, for a better narration. Navigating through the sewers should be relatively easy, thanks to the map you’ve studied numerous times. After interrupting the traffic light, K’s car will (presumably) stop right above a manhole, through which you’d be able to set up a 30-second explosive. The car should explode a street away, killing K.

Surprisingly enough, the plan worked out perfectly. With hurried steps you’ve walked into one of the empty alleyways, immediately running towards an already open manhole. There was a bright yellow warning that indicated a hole in the ground – one that no one closed even after a whole year of the sign just standing there. Looking around for the last time, you slipped in, sprinting away the moment your feet touched the ground.

Steps echoed through the empty tunnel, contact with wet surface only creating loud splashing noises. Currently, the screen of your phone was split, half showing the camera display of the street and half exhibiting a blue button and a frozen counter. A few minutes of fast navigation through the sewers, you looked up, realizing the designated place was there. A quick look up granted proof that the plate was there. K was then taking a turn, only a few hundred meters away from you.  

With a quick and forceful tap of the blue circle, you watched the light turn red.

The powerful vehicle driving closer appeared even louder down there. When K stopped and the noisy engine came to a halt, the cameras were there to confirm his perfect position. Hurriedly, you climbed up, working the plate open with a miniature crowbar (that you carried in a backpack, along with the explosive). Then, with calculated and calm movements, the metal cover was carefully moved and the car was right there.

Huge amount of smoke entered through the opening, making you cough. Much like always, time was precious and there were only twenty more seconds. Skillfully, you securely tied the tiny bomb to the underside of K’s vehicle, closing the manhole up and setting the timer off immediately after.

The light turned green and the mighty engine roared for its last time.

Taking a clean jump down, you ran back the same way. Somewhere in the middle, you heard a huge bang, followed by strong vibrations of the ground. Smirking, you nodded in satisfaction because of yet another case well done.

Outside, on the main street, while many panicked about the car currently on fire and a dead man inside, the familiar blue-haired stranger watched with calm in his irises. He was leaned on one of the walls, laughing at the scared pedestrians and their clumsiness. Then, as if programmed, the moment you came out of the alleyway, he turned to face you.

Caught like a deer in headlights, you stopped in tracks. Blue smirked boldly, nodding slightly with a raised eyebrow – as if giving props for the finished job. Once again, an anxious feeling overtook your body, slight goosebumps appearing on soft skin. Gulping, you took a deep breath and walked right past, trying not to look intimidated by his sharp gaze.

Despite the familiarity you felt, Blue never once showed any signs of knowing who you once were or where you came from. Yet, it looked as if he knew exactly who you were and who you worked for currently, which was a worse situation to be in.

Once again, you aimlessly walked through lit up, bustling streets. Unnecessarily, you felt like a part of the normal community during these times. The chilly wind was somewhat relaxing against warm skin, serving as a distraction from overthinking. There were a thousand things that could go wrong every time, and thinking about them wouldn’t make anything easier. In the end, your skill and instincts never failed you, every move already memorized as muscle reflex.

About twenty minutes in, you caught onto a familiar person a few meters ahead. There was a small group of people separating the two of you, therefore they allowed short glimpses. Still, the tall, lean physique and dark blue hair that gleamed under the street light, gave their identity away. It was him.

The man’s posture was something you were already used to – relaxed, with steps long but calculated. His head was bent down lifting up for a second only, before falling down again. With the way his arms were positioned, you supposed the male held a phone or some sort of device in his hands.  Not daring to approach, you chose to follow his movements from a safe distance.  

A tall, strong man took a quick right turn into one of the side streets, effectively distancing away from the crowd. You wouldn’t have paid any special attention to him, if it weren’t for Blue’s gradual stop as well. Choosing not to blow the cover off, you continued with the same pace for a little while, ignoring the other as you passed right by. After about thirty more steps, you sat on one of the free benches that allowed a clear view of the blue haired man.

He stood on the same place, now leaning against one of the street lamps, phone still in hands. The device lit up Blue’s beautiful features, his stern eyes occasionally looking up and at the direction that man disappeared in. From his actions, you presumed he was the next target, and the assassin was only studying his behavior and roundabouts.

Although you couldn’t see, Blue watched the man enter one of the buildings, then waited for the lights on the 3rd floor to turn on and a window to be opened, much like always. When that happened, he pushed the phone into his jacket and turned around, happy with the final observation. You sneakily watched from afar, admiring the relaxation and carefreeness.

Then unexpectedly, Blue turned his head slowly, eyes meeting with yours. They found you so easily and that’s when you realized there was no cover to begin with. The uneasiness once again itched your skin. It was clear that he was aware of your positioning, hell, he probably even knew when you were behind him. The man’s eyebrow rose in an amused manner, before he looked the other way and walked away.

Something told you to go and follow.  

Taking careful and light steps between people, you tried to stay as low-key as possible, although the other probably expected – scratch that, knew – you were behind. His phone rang, an annoying ringtone interrupting the previous atmosphere. Blue picked up quick, talking quietly but laughing loudly at whatever the person on the other end said. Quickening the pace, you were able to get close enough to hear pieces of their conversation – unfortunately it wasn’t anything interesting, rather a casual talk between two friends. You suspected the man used this as a foolish cover.

Suddenly, he turned a corner, disappearing right behind. The phone call was still ongoing, his strong voice echoing through the alleyway for just a short period of time before getting lost in silence. You waited a couple of seconds before advancing.

It was your shadow that first made it around, but it made no effort of warning you about what’s to come. A silent scream left your lips, as the man you’ve been stalking for the past twenty minutes stood right ahead. His body was so incredibly close, minty breath fanning against your face. The corner of his lips formed a teasing smirk.  

“Hello, Red” He spoke, voice low, but with a pinch of playfulness in it. His big hand lifted up and reached behind your ear, taking a hold of a certain strand of hair. Noticing the expected color was no more, Blue frowned lightly. “Oh? It’s not red anymore?”

His act evidently surprised you, eyes wide open and lips parted slightly. The fact that he called you Red had only increased the bewilderment. A battle of foreign emotions started inside of your mind and chest. A foreign, bubbly feeling was fueled by pure hope that the other somehow remembered you, while the rational mind suspected the man’s real intentions and knowledge. In the end, Blue had never once interacted with you directly, how would he know about a hidden strand? Who did he hear it from?

“Hello, Blue” You replied, looking him right in the eyes and choosing to ignore his previous question. There was a slight tinge of dominance in your words, something that the other wasn’t quite expecting. “Nice to finally meet you”

“Haven’t you a long time ago, though?” He questioned, the smirk now turning into a light-hearted smile. Something about it had you wanting to wipe it off immediately. Nevertheless, his words once again had a double meaning. They echoed in your mind, replaying like a never-ending mantra. Technically, the two of you were no strangers, but what reason should you give him? Was it thanks to the faith that intertwined your paths or was it the history you’ve indirectly shared?

“Let’s just say I like to make things formal like this” The more you observed the man’s features, the more you grew intrigued. He was just so perfectly sculpted, and it made no sense that someone as breathtaking as him busied himself with such dirty work. Yet, God only knew what had forced the young boy to choose such a path.

“Well then, my name is Juyeon” Blue extended his hand for a handshake, once again showcasing just how big his hands were. Not bothering to take the gloves off, you accepted his greeting, somehow managing to feel the roughness of his palm over the black leather. A quick mutter of your own name was seemingly enough for Juyeon, for he hummed along and repeated it with the same tone. You didn’t miss the smooth flow of the vowels off his tongue.

Tranquility enveloped the small alleyway. Wind blew through it in strong waves, messing up your hair. Two frames stood just a step away, never once breaking eye contact, but prolonging the silence that swallowed every other sound. It was becoming awkward, yet neither knew how to bring up topics that obviously interested both.

“So, want to grab coffee, or?” Juyeon asked, breaking the suffocating atmosphere. His words served as a splash of cold water that brought you back into Reliaty, eyes averting their gaze for the first time. You watched a rat run from one trash can to the other, disappearing behind it in a matter of seconds.

“No, I actually have something more important to do” The truth was, you wanted to go with him out of pure curiosity, but a lot was holding you back. Even after imagining this exact moment a thousand times, you weren’t sure you were ready for it. Apart from that, there was yet another more impulsive reason for the refusal. You’ve been taught that everyone was an enemy when looked at from the right angle, especially in this job. Therefore, you were to deny as a precaution to not allow just anyone to use any information against you.

And what’s the most unfortunate was that Juyeon wasn’t just anyone. He was exactly your type. Which meant that he was both the most dangerous and safest of them all. The worst combination.

“But less important than following me for about...” The male looked down at his watch, an expensive device tightly secured around his wrist, “20 minutes?”. Blue's expression was one of curiosity, probably anticipating the reply to his remark.

“I had time to kill” It wasn’t at all believable, but the other let it slide with a slight chuckle. He glanced at you with an amused look, before speaking.

“Kill huh? Working so late?” Juyeon teased, the chuckle from before now growing into an audible laugh. Truthfully, this exact reply had caught you off guard pretty well and the silence that suddenly spread was a solid proof of it. Fortunately, though, the other allowed time to think of an answer properly, all while having the cheekiest smile spread on his lips.

“Why so surprised? Weren’t you doing the same a little while ago?” Juyeon nodded at your question, shoulders shrugging fast as if to nonchalantly approve of it. You were quite surprised with his quick confirmation that didn’t hold a pinch of hesitance. It felt as if he was perfectly fine with verifying all of your suspicious and letting you know about the trivial things. Logically speaking, it was only fair, considering how much he apparently knew about you.

“Well then... I can’t do anything about your time” Tsking to show fake disappointment, the male pushed his hands into tight jean pockets and gazed down. It was surprising that he wasn’t pushing the proposal, rather accepting the denial. For whichever reason, your pride accepted a decent hit. With one foot, he carelessly kicked a rock on the ground with a heel, making something underneath his shoe cling. The sound didn’t go unnoticed.

“I guess I’ll see you around then” Juyeon added, before turning in the other direction and slipping away. Before you could react, the man was already ten steps ahead, carrying himself in the same relaxed fashion as before. His steps echoed, the soles of his shoes way too hard on the ground. Upon a quick accidental look, you noticed a piece of shiny metal on his heels, reflecting off the light that happened to hit them directly. Huffing was your only reaction to it.

The whole way back, your thoughts were a hectic mess, one that couldn’t be calmed down, for they always wandered towards the blue haired assassin.

You never really liked warehouses, for they were way too open. Thankfully though, the one you were working in today wasn’t empty – crates and boxes filled with unknown substances and materials were scattered all around, as well as machinery that’s used to move them around. Overall, all of those objects allowed much cover and plenty of room to comfortably work around the broad place. Moreover, your steps weren’t going to echo too much in such a setting.

Today’s target was a man named Captain Lee, a case similar to about a hundred others previously assigned – work with government officials. You never cared how many people did what, but you supposed the most died because they hadn't paid their part of the deal or smuggled with the government. Either way, they happened often and you will never run out of work just because of that.  

Hidden and on a great distance, you watched Lee and another man (assumed government official) enter the warehouse. Unfortunately, both had a generous number of bodyguards, but luckily, none were allowed inside. The huge door was the only easy entrance option, but since that would immediately ruin the mission, you decided to infiltrate some other way. Working fast and precise, you climbed up set of drainpipes and entered through an open window on the roof. Done in less than three minutes – record time. Dropping down was a more challenging move, but nothing too bad, for you entered far enough from the two men to remain unnoticed.

Your shoes that were two sizes bigger, proved to be a bigger hassle today than ever before. The metal railing was very hard to move over without making any unnecessary sound. The mask on your face helped you breathe properly, the air being way too stale for anyone’s liking. Thankfully, there were no major light sources that would interfere with your cover. Full black attire matched perfectly with the semi-dark surroundings.  

The voices of the two males weren’t loud, but in an empty space like this, the echo was immense. It helped you navigate around or between the crates and gigantic shelves in the most accurate manner. The pistol in your hand was already equipped with a silencer, your hand reaching up to stabilize it for the last time. Slowly, you sneaked closer, back pressed against a set of boxes.

Then, unpredictably, something moved in the corner of your eye.

Stopping dead in tracks, your full attention moved to the staircase not so far away. It was protected by one of the huge machines – those you supposed organized all of these crates. Your mind promptly wandered off to the worst scenario – it must’ve been a guard you failed to notice. Gripping the pistol with more force, you aimed at the suspicious area, holding the bullet in, but ready to fire if needed.

Despite the darkness, you noticed a puff of blue hair. Lowering the gun with an inaudible sigh, your eyes rolled back, jaw clenching in frustration. The boy peeked out carefully, irises finding yours in an instant. He nodded in your direction, hand moving slightly in a low wave.  

Looks like the day has come when the two sides get to work together.

Juyeon seemed to realize that as well, for he moved closer to the edge of his cover, evidently willing to make a plan of action. For a moment, ego and pride made you think about ditching the offer, why would you ever need help? But on a second thought, he would definitely make everything easier, and who in their right mind would deny that? Shuffling closer, you accepted the silent proposal with a nod.

Although far away, the two succeeded in communicating through short signals, functionally organizing a proper scheme. You’ve got to know the male was equipped with a knife only – which really didn’t make things easier, but it was possible to work around it.

Juyeon got moving quick after ending the discussion, making his way around the warehouse. You watched his steps until he disappeared, readying yourself to fire at Lee and disappear if anything goes wrong. In the end, you weren’t going to risk getting caught because of someone else’s mistake all while already being so close to completing your part of the job.

Once in position, the other assassin threw a coin in another direction, the tiny object immediately serving as a distraction. Exactly then, both of you jumped out of cover, not giving the two men any reaction time before It was too late.

Juyeon grabbed the official from the back and covered his mouth with one hand, the other coming up to slit his throat, while you fired two rounds at Lee’s head. The pistol, although suppressed, made two sets of noises that still sounded through the warehouses.

Experienced, you knew that if the bodyguards had trained ears, they’d pick up on the sound. Therefore, in a hurry and with a wish to get out of there asap, you grabbed Juyeon’s unoccupied hand and took off running. Hurried steps probably made more sound than the shots you were worried about, but thankfully there was still no one that could hear them.

Juyeon diligently followed behind, holding onto the thin blade and occasionally looking back at the entrance door. Fortunately, both of you were able to reach the exit in a matter of few minutes. Just a moment before slipping out, he picked up on a glimpse of two bulky silhouettes entering the warehouse. Pay people to protect you, only to be murdered without witnesses. Bodyguards my ass, Juyeon thought.

Neither spoke until far away from the mission location. Walking through the woods, both tried making as little noise as possible, gripping their weapons tight just in case there was any more danger. In the natural setting, black clothes greatly contrasted the greens, yellows and browns. Nonetheless, the two figures silently walked through with determination.

Only when in complete clear, did the both stuff their weapons inside their attire, taking the hoods and masks off before anyone could notice. More relaxed and less covered up, you’d look like a normal couple taking a walk in the nature. The road you took led towards the center of the city, but it was a long, long walk.  

After scanning your emotionless face for a few minutes, Juyeon was the first to break the silence.

“Don’t you feel the smallest bit of remorse? He had a sick wife and year-old twins waiting for him at home” The question was a pure shocker. Instantly stopping in place, you looked the other in the eye with the most baffled expression. Out of everything he could’ve asked, that’s what he chose to say? Was he judging you? Was he expecting you to actually care?  

You weren't sure where he was coming from.

“Excuse me? Do you? Are you any better than I am?” You bit back, hoping the pure annoyance that dripped from your words reached the other. Juyeon’s face didn’t change at all though, it remained blank, as if your passive attack hadn’t even touched him. As if you were getting worked up for no reason.

“He didn’t have a family; I don’t sign such things; therefore, I don’t feel that way” The male replied, in a matter of fact tone. His attention wasn’t on you, but an invisible dot in the distance, somewhere between all of the trees and bushes. Still, he could clearly feel you looking at him with a suspicious expression.

“Don’t look at me with those eyes. I have a choice and I choose not to do it, simple as that. Not everyone works for the same people and has the same goals as you”

You wondered how can someone make your blood boil in such a short period of time. Much like you, Juyeon trained for years; it was a fact that he had no empathy for any of his victims – such thing was inevitable. Every assassin in training had to go through the desensitization program, and no one was different than the other when it came to feelings of this kind. So, what exactly was he trying to do with his questions?

Why did it matter if you cared or not? Why did it matter if someone had a family or not? What was the difference? Just because he worked for ‘the good guys’, he got to be the morally right one? What even was it they fought for? Peace, order, harmony in the community as a whole? Or satisfaction, more power of the hungry ones on top by murdering individuals? You had to laugh.

All these years of work and you’ve never once stopped to think about someone’s family or friends, for it simply wouldn’t have changed anything about the final decision. “No hard feelings” was one of the few rules of the whole ordeal. Killing people was your job, the execution of someone didn’t have anything to do with their sick wives or young children.  

You stepped forward, pressing a finger into Juyeon’s chest.

“Listen up pretty boy, we’re both murderers. We carry the souls of hundreds on our weapons. It doesn’t fucking matter who our targets are. We’re the exact same; except, I’m honest and I only do this because it pays good fucking money, and what is it you’re striving for? With your ass always covered? Pitiful peace and justice? That’s pathetic. There’s no such thing in this job.”

At this point, you were fuming, jaw clenched and eyes boring holes into the other’s forehead. Although your voice was hushed, it was quite authoritative. The boiling blood that flowed through veins quick only fueled your irritated brain. Truthfully, the boy did feel slightly intimidated, but more so intrigued.

“Get your head out of that utopia mindset. “Oh I’m killing because that helps keep our community peaceful”, no! You’re killing to make the rats on the top happy and get paid a fortune! You’re taking a life whoever you’re working for. It does not matter if they have ten starving children, or a sugar baby waiting for them at home. There’s a reason they should be dead and you’re not the one to question it! Much less using family as an argument! That’s pointless!”

Juyeon didn’t try and oppose your thoughts, only watched your annoyed being work itself up with every sentence spoken. The smirk on his lips slowly grew wider, eventually turning into an honest smile. Although not in ideal conditions, you managed to captivate him so much, and the man wanted to know and hear more from you, even if that meant you had to yell at his reasoning.

It was interesting how the tables have turned though. Juyeon suddenly wanted to continue observing and listening to you, admire this smaller being that held so much power and determination. It was only now that the male realized the appeal of doing so, after so many years of wondering just what had you looking at him from a distance for so long. The two of you were so different now, despite being so similar back then. Yet the one thing that hadn't changed, was the beauty of the young girl that had evidently followed her into adulthood.

He’d hardly admit it, but he was glad that faith had done its job at setting the two of you up again.

Thanks to your state, the next fifteen minutes went by without any more words. Juyeon kept a safe distance, a couple of steps behind you, unsure of what to do. The tension was beginning to make him uncomfortable. At one point, the thin blade placed inside of his hoodie moved, and the boy let out a fast yelp. The knife managed to shift in such a way that fortunately didn’t harm, but warned the other of its position.

Juyeon crouched down and pushed one arm underneath his hoodie, moving the weapon and trying to push it deeper into the hidden fluffy pocket. For whatever reason, worried about the lack of presence behind, you turned around and noticed the man crouching down, an uncomfortable expression on his face. Approaching out of pure curiosity, you lowered to be on eye level – not quite expecting Blue’s next move. Just to break the unbearable tension, he thought.

With a quick grasp of your arm, Juyeon pulled you towards him, falling back into the soft grass. The two figures fell down, one of which was smirking wide with hooded eyes and the other wore an astonished expression.

“You see Red, you’re some type of enemy for the regime as well, working for sketchy people and killing unnoticed... Be more careful, otherwise I can make some money off you too” The boy joked, voice calm but low. His sudden change of demeanor had you pleasantly surprised and without much thought, you joined in on the play. Situated on top of him, you lowered yourself down, just a few inches away from his face.

“Oh, you can, but you won’t” You replied back, a smirk of your own bidding its hello.

“What makes you think I won’t?” Juyeon answered, suddenly pressing something sharp against your stomach. In any other instance, the action would have immediately set off your self-defense mechanism, but right now, the man was allowed to have his harmless fun. Somehow, you felt the other wasn’t a threat, and your senses never lied to you.

“Because it’s against your morals, pretty boy. You wouldn’t dare. You kill only when ordered and I highly doubt I was ever on your list” With that, you managed to take home a doubtless checkmate. The man tried ignoring the way you called him for the second time that day. Slowly but surely, you took a hold of Juyeon’s big hand that held the weapon and moved it away to a much safer distance. The other let you, without any protest or fight back.

“Plus... I don’t think I’m working against you; I don’t touch anyone else but the bad guys, remember?”

At such close proximity, it was possible to predict what were the thoughts of both. Unexpectedly though, beside a moment-driven need to press your lips together, there was a hidden feeling of understanding and content. Both remained in the exact position for a little while, breathing the same air and enjoying this unique situation.

Without any special reason, you lifted up and touched Juyeon's nose with a soft finger. The act changed the atmosphere quick and caused both to giggle, pleasantly surprised to experience it recklessly Mindfully, you then hoisted yourself up and off the boy, helping him get on his feet as well.

An imperceptible crack formed inside of your soul, something that was just a beginning of a storm.

The next two weeks passed by without any encounters. You took time off to regain energy before moving onto the next scheduled and fixed mission, while Juyeon busied himself with the usual, easy executions. He’d run around the city, hang about in underground passages throughout the day and sneak through alleyways during the night. His victims weren’t big bites at all, for he had gotten used to simple cases of unprotected individuals.  

Juyeon has always been covered by the government, which was to be expected since he did work for them. Every single life the assassin had taken, was never recorded in his dossier, for it remained as clean as ever. The cases he and a few other colleagues worked on were never investigated properly, always thrown under the mat or closed by the court after a few days. It often happened that innocent people were forced to take blame, just so the families of victims felt ‘content’ and ‘justice’ - despite it being far away from that.

The boy had a proper reason for why he chose the path of paid assassination. It's not rare to hear that people who’re born in a violent environment grow up to be violent as well – and unfortunately that was exactly what happened to the blue haired assassin.

Juyeon was only seven when he had lost a dear parent. On an unfortunate night, his father had come home shitface drunk and proceeded to beat up his mother. It was sad to say, but the boy, as well as his younger brother, were used to violence, as it occurred almost daily. Their mother would always usher the two youngsters into their rooms, before she strongly took all of the anger of the older so her kids wouldn’t have to. The man had rarely ever come home sober, and the number of times they listened to the pitiful gasps and cries downstairs was way too great to count.

Still, one night, Juyeon noticed his mother laying on the ground in a pool of red liquid and her mouth parted with eyes fixed on an invisible dot. The father, enraged and unable to process the situation properly, lunged towards him. With extreme amount of luck, Juyeon managed to shield his younger brother for a second, immediately grabbing him by the hand and running out into the open.

Even so young, Juyeon was aware of everything. Raindrops fell in an even, calm rhythm on the pavement while the sky flashed every now and then. He ran almost barefoot, the socks on his feet soaked by the wet pavement. All the time, he held tight onto the younger’s hand, encouraging him to continue running despite everything else. The teddybear his brother carried was dragged along the ground, plastic nose creating a strange noise over asphalt ground.

It took a long time until they were able to find someone on the streets in such weather. One young and reliable looking woman stood under a shop shade, seemingly waiting for the pour to stop. Mindfully though, she ran out of cover to help the same moment they came into view. The woman was shocked and distressed, listening to the heartbreaking story of two young souls who spoke through never-ending tears, their voices breaking with every sob.

Juyeon and his brother were taken into custody quick, and their father was arrested in a matter of one day. Sadly, the siblings were soon separated, both going into different families due to unknown circumstances. They never saw each other again.

Juyeon grew up into a teenager with a never dying urge to get revenge on his father. The picture of his mother lying dead on the ground replayed behind his eyelids every time they closed, it only fueling the hidden fury. He couldn’t fall asleep easily and when it somehow happened, he wouldn’t sleep for long as the image would haunt his young mind even then. Juyeon was unwillingly updated on the state of his father, who he visited not even once.

Either way, Juyeon silently plotted how to get back on the remaining parent, not letting anyone know anything about those plans – which fell apart in the end. The elder died in prison two years later – cause unknown. Juyeon hadn’t bothered to go to the funeral.

The teen ended up without a revenge, nor the justice he thought his mother deserved. Juyeon turned towards bad habits and streets fights, often falling victim to toxic relationships. Everything he did was to ease off the horrible feeling of guilt and anger he simultaneously felt. Secretly, everyone feared him, his sharp words and skills, despite the boy never doing any intentional harm to others without a proper reason. The fights Juyeon got into were only when he felt immoraly wronged, or when someone really pissed him off.  

Eventually, the boy was introduced to the job he’d later become a professional at. Young Juyeon thoroughly thought this tough decision over many times, especially when standing before the big, bossy man who immediately offered him a contract. The older said that people like him tend to be perfect for the job, particularly when driven by a certain emotion – something that would drive them on. At first, Juyeon wasn’t sure where he would end up with a “degree” in assassination, therefore hesitance was a reasonable reaction.  

Sly as a fox though, the boss used unfortunate history against the rookie. Juyeon was told that if he did well enough, there’s a chance he’d be accepted into the government guard – and it fought for justice and peace.  

It was surprising how kids of different backgrounds happen to receive the same treatment and training, only to end up on different places again. One could think that since everyone experienced identical programs, they were meant to work together – when it was the exact opposite. The minor differences in performance and work ethics that could easily be overlooked, were the ones that labeled you a certain position. And unfortunately, it often depended on just what kind of person they turned you into.

Juyeon thought about his time there often. Short pieces of memory flying by and disappearing in an instant. The six years he spent watching different clips of torture and learning how to flawlessly execute a silent murder. All the days his mobility was challenged – running the same course, climbing different heights and crawling through miniature gaps while carrying different weapons.

He thought about all the different people there, all of the kids that he watched get beat up and heard scream – many of those giving up after only days of training.  

But she never did.

The little girl that always observed his practices and paid attention to his every move, as if she was trying to remember them as well. He remembered the younger taking everything thrown at her like a complete champion, determination and will for success written over her face in bold letters. Juyeon always wondered just what it was that made her so persistent.

Shivers ran down his spine as the face of the little girl in his head took on familiar lines. They formed a mature and stoic, yet beautiful as ever face. Juyeon sighed loudly, still not processing the fact that faith made it be so their paths crossed again.

How exactly the two of you managed to find each other so fast in a club full of people, was unexplainable. It could’ve been a sixth sense that you’ve developed, for the two pairs of eyes immediately locked the moment you walked in. Thanks to previous experiences and an uninteresting game of guessing, you’ve come to the realization that once again, the playing field was same for both.

Slowly creeping up to the man, you threw your hands around his neck, attempting to dance to whatever song the DJ was remixing. It was an easy way to get blended into the crowd and communicate with the other without raising suspicion. Flashing colorful lights along with the excessive amount of fake mist and sweaty people once again reminded of the reason why you didn’t like clubs. But alas, work had to be done.  

Juyeon had caught onto your plan, but the smirk and hooded eyes clearly showed that he was quite amused with your boldness. Carefully, his big hands creeped up to your hips, bringing close to his and swaying them to the beat of the song. With a gasp of surprise, you giggled, turning around in Juyeon’s hold, back pressed flush against his strong chest. The male’s head moved closer, lips lingering just above your ear. Out of pure curiosity, with a swift move, your ass ground against Juyeon’s crotch, eliciting the sweetest gasp in return. Before any remark could be made, you glanced back, speaking in such a volume that no one else heard.

“Who is it tonight?”  

“One of the sisters, Yuri” Juyeon replied, voice low and rough, soft lips finally touching your ear. The grip on your hips tightened, as a precaution to not dare pull the same trick twice. Although the colorful tints of flashing lights turned the whole room into hectic mess, Juyeon was thankful for it hid the flush that unknowingly overtook his features.

“Oh, how exciting!” You replied in a sarcastic tone. “I’m here because of Aria!” The answer received a hum of understanding in return.  

The two sisters, Aria and Yuri, while not the most influential on the streets, had managed to get themselves involved in quite a few problems with the big ones, for a short period of time. To know that the fall of both happened due to one’s mistakes was slightly disappointing. It was one of those rare cases you were disclosed all details, and simply put, it had your eyes rolling back. Everything could’ve been easily sorted out.

Despite being twins, they were complete opposites. Aria was always the calm, calculated and careful sibling, while Yuri ran around, causing problems, concerning herself with illegal jobs and getting away with it thanks to her connections. Those associates often asked for something in return, and more often than not, it was someone with some type of political power. You guessed that’s why Juyeon was here tonight. Can’t say it wasn’t to be expected.

Aria, although the more mature twin, got dragged into everything thanks to Yuri. Surprisingly enough, she managed to find a place in the community fast. At first, Aria often did the dirty and hard work of finding new druggie customers for her bosses. Eventually, she progressed and ranked up significantly (no one really knows how she did it so fast), finally allowed to deal crack and heroine by herself – while of course having to pay a percentage back to the leader. The semi-autonomy was there in theory.  

It all went smooth and well until Yuri found out. To her irrational brain, it only meant free shots of fun every time she needed it. Therefore, like a fool, Yuri started using the drugs her sister had to sell, without giving a coin back. Whatever the reason was, Aria let her.

Debt happened fast, as Aria couldn’t pay back enough money, nor make up a good enough excuse as to where the drugs went. The siblings tried prolonging their (Aria’s) payment date and buying just a tad bit more time to get everything sorted out. Empty promises were spoken through disposable phones as Aria pledged the money will be ready soon.  

And as if they were suddenly blind and deaf to the fact of being in debt, the sisters decided to open a nightclub. Apparently, the earnings (they hoped would happen fast) would be used to pay back thousands of dollars they owed.

Unfortunately, being too hopeful was never a good thing. And that’s why you were there on the exact day of the grand opening.

“Well then, can I ask you to be my partner in crime, Miss?” Juyeon whispered, nudging your temple with his nose. Although in the mood to play with the other for a little while longer, you had to get to work first. Once again turning in his hold, you nodded and began bopping along to the new beat that vibrated off the walls. With foreheads pressed together, you tried ignoring Juyeon’ sharp gaze and focusing on discussing a plan of action.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

It was unusually easy to get inside of the security room, turn the cameras off and delete all footage of the current night. With a bit of secretive work, two assassins found a blueprint of the whole floor, familiarizing themselves with all important points of the nightclub – first and foremost the security room. Immediately, both got to work.

Thanks to your moderately revealing outfit and Oscar-worthy acting (no sarcasm intended), you worked as a distraction in the first part of the plan. Accidentally walking into a male bathroom, you managed to gain attention of drunk and drugged men. As expected, they followed out like hungry dogs.  

In the meantime, Juyeon slipped in and out of the bathroom through an open window. The drain pipes, weird infrastructure and façade of the whole building, allowed him to make his way around and towards the security room. The window was barely open, but with a bit of force, it was lifted up higher and Juyeon jumped in without much sound.  

With quick work of skilled fingers, the footage was deleted and all cameras were disabled for the night. Following the same path, the male left, making sure to lower the window into its previous position before returning to the bathroom. Luckily, your charm and flirty words worked well enough to keep other men outside the room until Juyeon came back.

He felt wronged seeing everyone looking you up and down as if you were some type of provocative art piece, hoping to get a feeling with their nasty fingers. Immediately, Juyeon approached the little group and wrapped a protective arm around your shoulder, leading you away. Sounds of disapproval were heard from the rest, but neither paid no mind, already focused on the next piece of the plan.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

Keeping up the cover often required creative and interesting measures. You’ve been there, done that many times, yet never once have you made out with someone in public because of it.

At one point of the night, while progressing towards the next point, you’ve noticed a couple of guards paying a little bit more attention than usual. The amount of security surrounding one piece of the corridor was enough information to understand that the sisters (or at least one of them) were in one of those rooms. Trying to play drunk and drugged was so far the best shot at being left alone, but it seemingly didn’t work this time, as one bulky man walked towards you. The sound of his voice was almost silenced by the deafening music playing in the background.

“I’m sorry this is a-”  

Suddenly, Juyeon pushed you against a wall. Big hands cupped your face, holding it so delicately, carefully, as if you were a rose made out of glass. Yet, his lips moved against yours with a hungry and lustful feeling, only breaking apart to catch a breath before continuing where interrupted. One of his hands trailed lower, hitching one of your thighs over his hips, earning a rather surprised and breathless gasp in return. Unfortunately, the guard wasn’t willing to cooperate.

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to leave this area” He yelled, voice unexpectedly high for a man his built. Juyeon chose to ignore the other, kisses now trailing underneath your jaw and over the tender skin of your neck, nipping but not strong enough to leave any marks.

Growing impatient and with an obvious pressure from his colleagues that bore holes into his back, the guard grabbed and  Juyeon’s bicep, effectively breaking the two apart. It took all of Juyeon’s mind strength not to turn around and break the man’s arm – that much was obvious from the sudden fire in his eyes.

“Leave” The bigger said, pointing back towards the direction you’ve came from. With glassy and hooded eyes, you watched the intimidating man, giving him a wide, forced smile. Pointing between the two guys, you started laughing, occasionally looking away and trying to suppress more giggles from spilling out. Juyeon caught onto the tactic and followed it, his shoulders rising and falling in a fast rhythm.

“I’m sorry~ we’ll goooo” Not wanting to create any unnecessary drama, you grasped Juyeon’s hand, leading the way while fake stumbling and force laughing the whole time. The male tried supporting you, and for a more authentic look, his own steps shortened and uneven.

“Drunk kids... I can’t bel..” Was all you’ve heard from the guard, before his voice blended in and disappeared in great noise that was an EDM beat.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

Around one in the morning, when the night was reaching its peak, the two targets came out of their room. Despite other distractions, Juyeon and you spectated from a safe distance, dancing against each other for the nth time that night. As per usual, Yuri appeared high and out of her mind, while Aria dragged her towards a small terrace that overlooked the dance floor. There was a guard that followed behind.

“I guess it’s true that they’re giving a speech tonight... how eventful” With a sarcastic tone, Juyeon whispered in your ear. You looked up towards the terrace and hummed along to signal his words have been heard.

“There’s only one guard following, there must be more up there” He continued, head dipping low and lips caressing the exposed skin of your neck. Following the beat of the song, Juyeon moved one of his legs between yours, interested to see the reaction he’d get. His bold touches and moves intensified the unusual tension and sudden heat you already felt. The mission had to be done fast, since you weren’t sure how much more of this new, pleasurable torture you could take. Both were being pretty unprofessional, evidently forgetting about their main focus at times.This wasn’t at all like either of them.

“Taking them out up there is too risky anyway” You began, leaning your head back into the juncture of Juyeon’s shoulder, before speaking again, this time with a more teasing tone “Can’t guarantee that my idea is safe either, though. Are you up for the challenge?”

“Oh woah, don’t get too cocky on me now, baby” Blue replied, smirking when your head shot up to look him in the eyes. It faded fast, an eyebrow raising in a questionable manner, as if his words weren’t special and deserving of such a reaction. “Tell me. I get to hear the offer first before taking it, right?”

“You’re acting way too unprofessional. We’re here with a reason” You whined, suddenly wanting to distance away from the other, but a tight hold on your hips didn’t allow that.

“Me? Unprofessional? Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t the one grinding down on my thigh” Juyeon bit back with a generous amount of confidence, the one that people carried themselves with when they were aware of being right. The colorful lights hid the immediate flush that overtook your features. A quick look to the right proved the man that his words definitely had an effect.  

“So? Are you going to tell me or let a chance slip away?”

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

Aria and Yuri laid dead inside a big closet, their necks snapped and heads hanging in an unnatural way. Juyeon and you once again happened to be the most compatible teammates, getting the job done and leaving the club before anyone suspected a thing.  

The time between leaving and present passed by in a blur and way too fast. Or maybe it didn’t, maybe it was just the power of Juyeon’s soft touches and hungry kisses that made you forget all about it.

Currently pressed against a cold brick wall a few streets away from the nightclub, you enjoyed the attention the man was offering. It all felt unusual and new, but not in a bad way. The wall temperature greatly contrasted the one of the body pressed against you, creating an unusual but pleasant combination. Juyeon’s lips rarely stayed on yours, often wandering down to your jaw and juncture of shoulder. This time though, he didn’t care about the marks, pink bruises now decorating the expanse of your neck. With hands in his dark blue strands, you pulled Juyeon closer, moving in just the right ways to allow more access to the soft and undamaged skin.

It wasn’t clear why both assassins gave in to the sudden want for each other. There were no evident emotions to back up their actions, just a strong need that had to be fulfilled with no one else but the other. Some could suppose it was the consequence of their blunt actions from before, while others may argue that it was something much more meaningful. A relatively new, exciting state of mind and experience that obviously didn’t have to happen, yet it did. A slipup so to say - or at least both hoped that it was.

“How can you be this hot after just murdering someone?” The man asked breathlessly, a quiet chuckle leaving his lips that formed a slight smile. His sharp eyes looked at yours with a new kind of emotion, something you weren’t able to pinpoint just yet. Juyeon’s deep but quick breaths matched yours, both trying to take in as much air as possible in a short period of time.

“What can I say, I’m a natural at keeping people around my finger” You raised a pinky up, playing along, voice low and seductive. Truly, there were missions that required acting flirty and playing dirty, therefore your charm has developed quite a lot. Still, what you tried implicating at was the situation from earlier that night, when all those men gathered around you. There was no reason to expect a reaction from the other. Juyeon’s expression quickly changed into something that resembled a frown, but it disappeared just as fast, not allowing any time to make any remarks about it.

Suddenly, the thigh that was once again positioned between your legs flexed, making you flinch and unwillingly whine. The man smirked, closing in the distance again, but not enough for yet another kiss.

“Should I be scared to become one of those people, then?” He whispered, irises playing between your eyes and lips that were just a breath away. The intimate proximity that went on for way too long happened to have a negative effect on you. Gradually, a pinch of doubt and hesitance began clouding your mind, scolding it for being too carefree next to the other. They reminded of just who the man was, and that the game currently played was a dangerous one. Without much thought, like a reflex, your hand moved quick, retrieving a pocket knife and pointing the tip at Juyeon’s barely covered stomach.

A gasp of sincere shock left the man’s lips, eyes opening wide, as he scanned your face. With an indifferent voice, but a slightly different mind, you spoke.

“I don’t know, should you?”

It was impressive to see how much effect people had on each other. Despite being busy with constant planning and thinking, there was always space in both heads to think about each other. Occasional pondering about his lips on hers, or her hands in his hair – all intensifying the anticipation for the next time.

Juyeon often found himself rushing missions because he knew the female wasn’t busy at the moment. Whenever passing by the familiar building and a certain room had even the slightest bit of light in it, the boy would invite himself over. It appeared that Juyeon risked much more than the other, and definitely much more than he should’ve.

Just out of pure skepticism that underlined every action, you never directly planned any of the meetings, rather letting the other barge in or set time and date. It was easy to catch onto his habits and when to expect a knock at your entrance door. For added security, weapons were kept in secretive places for quick use if the man ever decided to turn on you. And although fighting a never-ending battle inside of your mind, you grew to anticipate the hidden meetings. His kisses were spreading fire throughout your body, words messing with your mind and touches offering pure euphoria.

There were occasions when the two of you would meet at the rooftop, one always back from a mission while the other waited patiently. Sometimes, Juyeon’s hands still dripped fresh blood, the male not willing to waste any time on cleaning them before rushing towards you. It was a special feeling knowing that the fingers that used to do such horrifying things caressed your skin so delicately.

Slowly but surely, some type of understanding was established between the two. Then, the whole relationship wasn’t purely based on physical connection, and it meant much more than a way to satisfy hormonal human needs. Periodic talks about present worries and bothers, as well as thoughts on current events, allowed them to get to know each other better. Alas, the connection never reached its highest level, as numerous obstacles stopped them from reaching it – biggest being the female's constant hesitation.

Objectively speaking, Juyeon let himself open much more than the other did, always easy on bringing up topics to discuss about and contemplate on. He also shared much more information about himself, many of them being trivial and harmless things, but still something you stoically held back on. Of course, that didn’t mean you were silent during two-way conversations, just pickier about what you wanted to share.

Juyeon understood that, and he appreciated everything you’ve told him. That compassion was the foundation that will slowly build a more trusting and open relationship in the future. You valued his way of acting, enjoying harmless discussions and gradually getting used to having a companion who became a part of your almost daily life.

With a little bit of effort from both sides, everything was going to work, or at least you hoped. You encouraged every passing meeting, every second together, to hit the wall of reluctance with as much force as possible – still, unfortunately, it stood strong.

Blue and Red created purple during their nights together, merging with the beautiful melody of the storm that only grew bigger the closer it got.

Thanks to the impeccable weather, it was slightly challenging to get to the roof this time. However, with master level acting, fake politeness and a little bit of luck, you were able to avoid suspicion from the residents you passed by. Most definitely, and fortunately, not a single soul knew that there was a sniper rifle packed in a rather sizeable guitar bag you carried. Along with its components such as silencer, optical sight, bipod, additional ammunition...

Once on top of the building, you immediately unpacked the bag’s contents. First of was an expensive, albeit small door jammer that was installed straight away, effectively sealing the entrance you just walked through. Trying it a couple of times just to make sure, you deemed it impossible to open. Next was the sniper.

Having done such a thing countless times before, it didn’t take you long to properly set and load the weapon with a set of new bullets. The fresh smell of metal filled the small space around. Hiding behind a pile of rubbish, you set the bipod behind the cornice, muzzle and barrel pointing towards the road your target was supposed to appear on soon.  

Then, like a lightning, you immediately withdrew back, sniper pulled way behind and body pressing flush against the ground. There was a sudden feeling of being noticed and even watched, to which you were always quick to react. Keeping low for as long as time allowed, you dismounted the bipod as it only made advancing more difficult. Slowly but surely, you moved around, setting everything up on another corner with tall plants and flowers. The aim wasn’t as clear as before, but it wasn’t too big of a problem. Yet, despite the natural cover doing its job relatively well, the dangerous feeling was still present.

Taking a quick risk, you took off the current optical sight and mounted another, angled one, that allowed you to look around without being too exposed. Since you were on the 11th floor, on the tallest building in the area, there was no way someone could’ve noticed you from the roads down below. Glancing over them quickly just to make sure, the theory was deemed correct – no pedestrians had their heads raised up and looking in this exact direction.

Looking at the sky, you searched for drones or any other objects that could be supervising the area (as that unfortunately, did happen before and they had to be destroyed manually, via a gun). Thankfully, there were none, but instead of making you feel relieved, it only intensified the anxiety previously felt. Where was it coming from?

All you needed to get the desired answer, was an accidental glance over the roof of the building right across from yours. There, behind a pile of wooden planks, metal bars and all other unnecessary trash, you noticed a barely noticeable, but suspicious movement. Locking eyes on the exact spot and rolling the plastic on the sight, you zoomed in, getting a clearer image.  

Shockingly enough, there was a barrel peeking right between the two wooden planks, and it was pointed right at you.  

And then it quietly fired.

The bullet would’ve missed anyway, but thankfully, you moved down just in time, watching it penetrate the wall behind. Your heart leaped, pumping blood faster and kicking against your chest, almost as if it tried jumping out. Strange type of fear enveloped your body. It wasn’t fright for own life, rather unpleasant surprise that fueled thoughts of being outplayed. At this stage, you knew very little. Was it only one person? Were there more people? Were you cornered?

For whatever reason, the person on the other building continued firing, twice to be exact – yet both bullets hit the exact same spot as the first one. It didn’t make sense at all, but at least ir allowed keeping track of the opponent.

In a quick act, you moved, peeking just enough to expect to be fired at, but it never happened. Moving once again and receiving nothing in return, you positioned the sniper and looked through the sight for the nth time, trying to confirm if they were still on the same location. And that’s when you noticed.

A blue haired man peeking out, head cocked to the side, his sharp eyes and smirk offering a teasing, harmless expression.

Rage, disappointment and distrust overtook your body fast, blood boiling on a temperature higher than before. All emotions served as a strong reality check, a shot through the heart and mind, reminding of just who you were. They helped strengthen the invisible wall you were so desperately trying to weaken, ruining almost all of the progress made. Still, their consequences that will definitely leave a mark were your own fault and no one else’s.  

A drastic switch happened. While following Juyeon’s movements through the sight, you unconsciously aligned his head with the red dot in the middle. That person was suddenly someone who made you feel threatened, anxious, alarmed, and not the one who was supposed to help achieve change. You expected so much from him, yet all you currently felt was pure let down and anger. The inner battle was as hectic and loud as ever. A finger creeped up to the trigger, trembling as it came in contact with cold metal.  

Before the pull happened, your phone vibrated almost unnoticeably. It apparently did the right, desired trick, as it effectively broke the dangerous, fury-driven daze. With an audible sigh, you remembered who the actual target of the day was, aim moving downwards in a quick motion. Just as predicted and on time, a big black jeep turned the corner, driving into the street underneath you. Getting into a more comfortable position, you trailed the movement of the black vehicle.

First and only to come out of the car was the exact target. His appearance was immediately followed by two quick, (thanks to the silencers, somewhat) muffled gunshots, the bullets hitting just right. With two holes in his big shiny head, the man was sent falling down, momentarily holding onto the open door before faceplanting the cold concrete. Blood seeped out, painting the previously grey ground in a dark red, almost black color.

But the thing was, you only shot once.

Albeit caught off guard with the shocking realization, there was way too little time to get lost, every second more precious than the last one. Hurriedly, you deconstructed the sniper, pushing everything inside the guitar bag in a careless manner. When done, you moved towards the door and took the jammer off in record time before storing it inside the carriage as well.  

A quick glance was thrown in Juyeon’s direction, but unfortunately there was no sight of said man. For whatever reason, you were somewhat glad.

In a slow and relaxed manner, with calculated steps, you took the stairs again, making sure to appear just as natural and neutral as before. Thankfully, almost no one occupied the hallways. On the 5th floor, there were two elderly women happily boasting about their children, beside who you passed with a polite bow. You even smiled at them, but the expression was deemed unseen thanks to the black mask that covered your face.

Luckily, another semi-smooth mission was done with. You were out of the building and away from the scene in a couple of minutes, with no doubts about being seen or suspected. The only bothersome thing was the sudden change of feelings towards the blue haired man. A dangerous and slightly embarrassing switch could’ve had a very tragic outcome.

And of course, it wasn't worth missing out on the fact that for the first time, both had the same target.

You agreed on further meetings, although they were much different than those in the past. A drastic change in atmosphere was present from the first second, yet neither really wanted to comment on it. Despite being close physically, Juyeon didn’t feel warmth coming from you anymore, or at least not in the same amount as before. The male felt your body shiver under a cold gust of wind, but your skin didn’t feel any colder underneath his fingertips. When he tried offering you a jacket to cover up, you denied with a half-hearted smile.

It was unreasonably late, around three in the morning, which meant the city was at its calmest. There were less people on the streets than fingers on both hands and almost no apartments had their lights on. The moon was the most trustful source of light, its soft hues illuminating everything and making it more beautiful.

Nowadays, fewer words were exchanged as well. Silence was common, both bodies quietly cherishing what was left of a cracked relationship rather than trying to fix (or ruin?) it with meaningless talk. Leaned against the male’s shoulder, you tried forcefully letting go of tension to feel a piece of that carelessness that once existed between you. Truthfully, there was a willpower to continue fighting and experiencing the strange kind of joy, but there were so, so many obstacles. And most of them were created by you.

Neither had the explanation as to why this was still an ongoing thing, why neither gave up despite the little flame burning its last few seconds. No matter how long you searched for the answer, it just didn’t appear. A deep sigh resonated in a small bubble of space.

The biggest and constant bother was that invisible wall, still standing proud. Apparently, it grew taller and stronger every time you remembered the unfortunate event from two weeks ago. As time passed by, you became more skeptical, giving time and attention to thoughts you weren’t fond of. They whispered and laughed at a poor being for daring to experience something it wasn’t supposed to in the first place.

You didn’t even look Juyeon in the eyes anymore, always finding a nearby rock or wall crack a more attractive sight. Why? The fear of looking up and seeing no emotion in the man’s eyes was a fearful thought, mighty enough to forbid you from even trying. And why was it affecting you so much, why were you still holding onto it? You didn’t know.

Hell, your fucked-up mind was daring you to kill the man and he didn’t even know about it.

Juyeon, much like always, put more evident effort into the whole thing. It looked as if the male was aware of the trigger for this sudden stumble (not fall!), and was ready to give it his all to fix everything. Immense guilt was evident on his face, and if you looked up just once, you’d be able to read it off his beautiful features.

Despite your mental distancing and defiance, he never gave up transparently trying. You being there with him every night was all the hope Juyeon needed to continue. Even if you weren’t as willing to see him the next day, Juyeon would knock on your door. Even if you weren’t in the mood to talk, he’d ask a question about one of your favorite topics. The assassin wasn’t religious (and truthfully, how could he be?), but every night he’d pray for this tough period to end already. If for nothing else, then to have your eyes lock with his one last time.

Overall, these last few nights were a weird type of battlefield. Juyeon’s hand moved up to your shoulder, occasionally rubbing down your arm, hoping to feel just a bit of warmth there. You’d allow it, sighing and leaning into his hold, trying to, for the nth time, force a bit of feeling back.  

Either way, the two waited for a beautiful sunrise before disappearing in two different directions.

You should’ve believed the tension that thickened with each word the other said. You should’ve refused and backed out from this exact job when not even one person in the room appeared familiar. But it didn’t happen.

For the first time in an incredibly long time, the employers weren’t a part of a mafia or drug dealing gang. That much was disclosed, with a rude comment that it wasn’t your job to know anything more about them, anyway. It had your blood boiling and eyes squinting suspiciously, irises locking down every of the five men present.

Their detailing about the job that had to be done was just as, if not more, brief. Not believing that someone expected you to work properly with just three sentences of information, you asked a couple of times to have them repeated. Every time, the leader of the group sighed louder, eyes rolling back in an over-exaggerated manner, before turning around and giving a knowing look to the man beside. Were they joking around with you?

When asked about the basis behind this assassination, in hope of getting at least a little bit of early lead on who you’re dealing with, the man offered nothing useful in return. Instead of giving a proper reason, or at least putting effort into making a believable story up, he threw something senseless right at your face. Upon asking how you’re supposed to work without knowing how the target looks like, they replied with:

“They’ll be the only ones there, guaranteed. It's just a little game of hide and seek... with a twist. Isn’t that exciting?”

You were spared the detail that the target was just as (if not more,) experienced than you at these “murder plays”, and they demanded huge amounts of caution. Three main points were specified, the address, time and the fact that this was an extremely dangerous mission. The legitimacy of that information remained unknown, as they once again failed to give a coherent explanation. Despite the last point serving as a warning, you suddenly weren’t given a chance to back out.  

“Excuse me?” You said, disbelief all but dripping from those two simple words. “You’re sending me against another assassin, did I connect the dots correctly?”

“You’re a smart one”

“I don’t want to work on this case” You denied, getting ready to leave, when the other cleared his throat.

“We want this person taken out at any cost, and we particularly chose you for it. In the end, we did hear quite a lot of positive reviews... therefore you seem to be the right person, no?” The man tried flattering you, but his voice was laced with venom, lips moving slowly to form an unnatural, wicked grin. He wasn’t looking at you with fake friendliness anymore, rather an emotion that could soon turn dangerous.

“That doesn’t matter to me, I have the right to not accept the job. My signature is not yet written on the papers” A small pile of documents resting on the table was pointed at, endless rows of black text only missing a simple name written in ballpoint pen. The other chuckled lightly, gaze turning threatening in a blink time as he lifted a blue pen and spun it around his thick fingers.

“That’s easily dealt with” The weight of his words hit immediately, a shocking situation that you’re dealing with for the first time. There was no training for this and lack of experience was making you a nervous mess.  

Shuffling body mass from one leg to the other, your eyes remained on the ground, hands anxiously intertwining. There was nothing that came to mind that would help the current position, and you wondered what all of this was about. No one has ever forced you into working for them, much less threatened to sign the contract in your name.

The man chuckled once again, saying nothing but thinking a lot. This was it, they had you.

“Don’t you want this?” Another male spoke, his frame moving from the doorway and opening a black suitcase on the table. The carriage itself probably cost a fortune, as it was made of expensive leather, and the mouth-watering amount of money inside was as alluring as ever. It would probably be the best paid work ever. Still, you managed to look up from the bills and into the leader’s eyes with strong confidence.

“Does it even matter? You’re forcing me to do it anyway” The words barely made it past your tongue, their weight way too heavy. The freedom you had while working was something greatly cherished (for a lack of better words), and it was suddenly taken away. It almost felt as if nothing was in your power anymore. Fearful shivers ran down your spine.

“Well then, glad we got that behind ourselves. Sign here”

The whole process of sealing the deal was done in a matter of seconds. Your signature was scribbled in the ugliest way possible, and the pen was thrown to the other side of the room as a form of protest. The weak plastic broke due to the force of impact, the ink painting a patch of white wall blue. Turning around to leave, you stomped with heavy steps, glaring at each and every male in the room for the last time. Then, one step away from the doorway, you heard it.

Your name. Your real name.

The one no one ever used.

“Good luck, you’ll need it”

The door closed behind in a loud thud, not allowing you enough time to properly react. Just once your face hit the fresh air, did the heaviness of the decision fall upon your body. What have you done? Who were those people and why did they refuse to introduce themselves?  

Doubts filled your head – were your employers suddenly against you? Were they suddenly hyperaware of your knowledge, or scared that you’ll turn to the other side, become their enemy? Was this actually a ploy made to get you out of the game? The thought made you gulp audibly; wondering if but knowing that it was too late to turn around and tear the contract paper into thousands of pieces.

There’s also no way ditching the mission came into discussion. With the way they acted, god only knew if each and every step of yours was watched on. Holy shit.

The walk home was a long one, not particularly because time passed by slow, but because you purposely chose the longer path. Eyes filling with tears, your reaction was one of pity. Reaching up to brush the watery substance away from the corner of your eyes, you looked at the shiny finger. This was the first time in a long while that something managed to bribe out the emotion of grief. And for the first time ever, it was for no one else but yourself.

Tiny rocks sounded under your shoes just quietly enough to not ruin the perfect sneak up. The sky was grey, thin but overlapping clouds blocking sun from coming your way. Luckily, it meant you could move with more freedom, not having to worry about unnecessary shadows and their power to ruin cover.

The first abandoned building you were heading towards was huge, with main walls almost completely ruined. Chunks of concrete, bricks and other unnecessary trash created stable cover that you’d usually be thankful for, yet now dreaded.  

This was the exact address you were given, but the trick was that it happened to be a whole wide field with two abandoned buildings. On top of that, the opponent’s identity was still unknown, therefore you had no knowledge of who to look for and where. For all you knew, they could already be in position and aiming right at your head. “It’s just a little game of hide and seek, with a twist”. Instinctively, you ducked behind the nearest tree, feeling the heart strengthen its beats. Carefully and in calculated pace, the advance towards the entrance was continued.

There was a huge hole in the ceiling of every floor. It reached all the way up to the destroyed rooftop, almost as if something heavy fell from above and demolished the concrete surface. With back pressed flush against a piece of wall that still stood strong, you took a deep breath and reached down for a favorite of weapons, your trusted knife.

Suddenly, there was a strange type of noise coming from an unknown direction, resonating throughout the whole building. In the midst of a less careful and more panicked moment, while trying to retrieve the blade, it sliced through the delicate flesh of your calf. A quietly yelp of pain escaped your lips, hand immediately stretching to press on the wound. The feeling of blood running down your leg was accompanied by burning pain, and you tried ignoring it while climbing up the stairs.

Thanks to the special soft soles of the boots, your steps weren’t heard over the hard ground. They also didn’t put much force on your calf, therefore the advance to the 1st and 2nd floor went by almost without a problem. Occasionally, due to a bad step, the wound would reopen, another flow of blood quick to rush out along with a thousand silent curses.

The doorways on both floors were as demolished as the rest of the building, preventing anyone from walking through and forcing you to move up to the 3rd. Dodging and crouching down at places where you’d be exposed to the outside, you all but crawled up.

The third floor seemed different; way less disintegrated than the rest. Once there, you looked around and through the now available doorway. The corridor was very long, filled with wooden planks that once resembled doors leading to empty rooms. On the other side, about fifty meters away, there was another stairway, much like the one you took just now.

Alas, despite the burn in your calf, there was suddenly that alarming feeling of being watched.

Immediately ducking behind cover, you gripped the knife tight and took a few deep but quick breaths, planning the next move. Someone was definitely in there, and the rapid heartbeat was making sure you were constantly aware of it.

The feeling gradually subdued the more time passed by. You looked around attentively, once again taking notice of the still gaping hole on the ceiling. There was no one watching you through it though, so the trigger must’ve been from either outside or down the hallway. Remembering the noise from earlier, you completely crossed out the possibility of them being outside.

Which of course, wasn’t in your favor at all.

Peeking out just so the top of the head showed, you tried bribing out shots or any kind of attack from the other – something that would indicate where they were located. Receiving nothing in return was slightly confusing, but it also offered a pinch of hope. Maybe they moved, which meant you had a chance to sneak up behind them, or maybe they’re just hiding, which meant it could all go down very fast.

With a hurt leg that was slowly growing numb, there wasn’t a lot of time you had left before retreat was necessary. And never once did that happen. Therefore, trying to protect pride and get this done just to never see those nasty men again, you tried winging it. Pressing the wound one last time, you whispered a prayer before taking off through the open doorway.

There was just enough cover to move around in semi-safety, back turned towards one of the walls. Your eyes perceptively scanned every corner, every pile of rocks which could offer any type of protection. Occasionally, ignoring the pain, you’d jump inside one of the rooms to your right, hoping to catch the other off guard. The knife in your hands was gripped tight, leather handle shining slightly due to a thin layer of sweat coating it.

Tension was as high as ever, air becoming thick to an almost suffocating degree. For the first time, you felt undoubtedly scared. Your mind was clouded with a thousand racing thoughts, all of which only intensified the sensation of panic. The more time passed, the more your eyes aimlessly wandered around empty spaces, growing more tired and unable to notice possibly important details.

The amount of blood you lost was probably in the red zone, moving around becoming more challenging with every step. Still, doing the best possible job was always a requirement, therefore you used last spurts of strength to enter the 2nd to last room in the long hallway.

Once again met with a different terrain, you immediately noticed a demolished doorway, connecting the room to the one right beside. Upon quickly deeming the current room safe, you crouched down, sneaking towards the linking point. As if sensing danger, you patiently waited a couple of moments, trying to breathe as quietly as possible. If not for the protective leather handle, the blade would’ve sliced through your hand due to the impossibly strong grip.

Someone on the other side coughed. A curse followed right after.  

Both moved rapidly, reaching out for the other through the doorway.

You were held at gunpoint, jaw feeling the pressure of a cold muzzle on it, while a strong hand grabbed your hair, pulling it back. Your own hands grabbed the other’s collar, tugging down while holding the thin, sharp blade against their most sensitive point, Adam’s apple.

Neither moved.

Blue watched Red with surprised eyes, irises playing inside the broad space of dark brown. Your gaze tried locking the man down, scanning those beautiful features while still avoiding his sharp eyes. Unexpectedly, a weak wave of emotion hit, bringing back a piece of what you wanted for a very long time. There was a slight urge to reach out and caringly caress his sharp cheeks, cup his jaw and kiss his lips.

But there was a gun pressed against your skin, and a knife against his.

And neither moved.

The war started. Horrid battles began and ripped your heart piece by piece. Everything was on the line and an indecisive mind was as dangerous as ever. The realization that this man, despite everything that happened, was the last person you wanted to harm, hurt the most. It was the quick moment of reminisce about the old times, when everything was just starting. He was the only one who gauged new, thrilling, pleasant emotions and made them feel like they’re exactly what you needed. And it was the truth.

But the weight of the weapon on your jaw reminded of the not-so-bright moments as well. A flashback of the day you were teasingly shot at sent shivers down your spine, feelings of pure anxiety and fear coming back in an instant. Rightfully so, they were strong and rivaled the positive ones, trying to outweigh them and take control over your next actions. The man was still someone who dared pull the trigger on you, dared taking that type of unpredictable risk.  

If he dared pull it again, you dared slit his flawless, soft skin. But embarrassingly enough, you’d never have enough strength to be the first one, no matter how impulse-driven. Harming him definitely was your last wish. The thought of it even being a possibility made your eyes water, tears welling up and falling like never before, straining your soft cheeks.

Juyeon’s heart ached as well. Sadly, it opposed two separate and strong thunders. The first one hit hard, touching the intimate topic of his feelings towards you. It wasn’t a secret that you’ve changed him as well. In a word of gloom, blood and violence, you made everything disappear and instead of war, brought peace to his mind. Most of the time, it was enough for Juyeon to know that you were there, and every worry would fade away. The mutual understanding was then something he grew accustomed to and happy for. The male didn’t feel like he didn’t deserve attention anymore.

But what hit even harder was the fact that Juyeon was aware of your current thought process, and the guilt once again ate him away, bite by bite.

Carefully, the grip on your hair was released, gloved hand reaching up, thumb wiping a falling tear. Rough material nearly scraped your skin, a frown appearing on the other’s face almost immediately. Juyeon bit down on the glove, taking it off before placing his hand back on your warm cheek. The act made your eyes water even more, lips trembling and throat constricting to stop loud whimpers from escaping.

Still, the weapons didn’t move.

“Juyeon” You suddenly whined, finally finding strength to say his name. Lightheadedness was slowly overtaking your whole body, vision blurring fast. The pain in your leg although still present was long forgotten. Every letter carried huge weight, every taken breath felt like the last and you wondered if taking that bullet hurt any less. Unconsciously, your hand began shaking, resulting in the thin blade moving against the man’s delicate skin. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but Juyeon visibly and audibly gulped under the metal.

“They... they set us up to kill each other, Juyeon” The realization hurt like a sudden kick to the gut. It was supposed to happen sooner or later. All suspicions you weren’t willing to think about came out to be true and the terror spread through your body in a strong wave. Everything made sense – why those men weren’t willing to introduce themselves, why refusal wasn't an option and why no proper explanation was given to you. They were aware that if you knew even one of those things, you wouldn’t have dared to show up in the first place.

Or would you? Would they be able to push just the right buttons and play with your mind as they were right now?

You were set to break apart.

Do it. Don’t do it. Do. Don’t. Past and present were clashing together, habits and new found emotions. For the first time in a while, you felt somewhat disgusted with your job. Yet, the wheels were turning, reminding that you’ve been doing this for years and now was no time to give up under the pressure. It was so, so easy to end this all, much like hundred times before. Swallow down the hard feeling and contractions of your heart, cut through like you’re used to. Emotions were just an accident, an error in the system of a machine.

All this time though, Juyeon’s hand remained on your cheek, and only now was it only noticeable that he wasn’t holding you in place. The muzzle of the gun wasn’t as strong on your jaw as it was before. Juyeon wasn’t going to actively fight or harm you either, that much was clear. This had to end somehow, and the male was about to use his last possible chance.

“Look at me” The voice he said it with was soft, but underlined with a certain type of authority. For whatever reason, as if under a spell, your eyelids opened, irises immediately locking on his.

And then it all crashed down.

All the doubts and hesitation were immediately gone. Your hand moved, putting pressure on the weapon for just a quick moment before letting go completely. Heavy blade fell onto the ground with a loud and high-pitched noise, one that echoed throughout the whole building. The invisible wall was no more.

At the same time, Juyeon released the gun, hefty metal hitting concrete with just as loud of a thud. When the pressure disappeared and the current situation processed properly, your body went numb. Legs giving out, you almost collapsed on the ground. Luckily, Juyeon managed to catch you just in time. The male lowered the smaller body onto the ground, holding it carefully.

Your head hung low; eyes wandering all around the room, but not focusing on one spot. This was the first mission you’ve ever failed and the fear of possible consequences was scary.

Juyeon’s hands enveloped your face, just holding it firmly. Neither had an obvious cheerful expression, but there was a lack of certain something that made both seem more at ease. He caressed the soft skin, examining your face that was blank of any emotion. It was the moment of complete calm.

Upon focusing on the man, you noticed a clear red line just underneath his Adam’s apple. Instinctively, you reached out, running a smooth finger over it and listening to Juyeon’s strained hiss. A new wave of tears welled up in your eyes, yet the other was quick to wipe it away.

“Can you listen to me?” He questioned, with a gaze that suddenly turned more serious, albeit none the less caring. The breathing rhythm was slow and deep, almost as if he was trying to calm down in the fastest way possible. With a slight nod, you replied, hoping to keep enough consciousness to listen until the end.

“Let’s escape this hell” You would’ve definitely reacted greatly to the proposition, if it weren’t for the lack of energy in your body. Instead, the reply was a simple, perplexed look, a result of not quite processing what was talked about.

“Escape, disappear, perish, they’ll never know. They’ll never find us because... because they’ll think we’re dead. Isn’t that what they wanted? To wipe us off the list?” The tone Juyeon used was a hopeful one, as if the man already had everything planned and was ready to go right this second. And maybe, just maybe, that was the case.

“We’ll move countries and get new identities – I have a couple of friends that could and will help us with that. We’ll start a new life away from... away from all of this, because we can’t stay” Gradually, his words became more rushed, too many thoughts and too little time to wrap them up. “We can’t go back. They’ll kill us themselves, you know that, right?”

Juyeon was right. In the planned scenario, one of you was supposed to die today, while the other would’ve been finished off upon reporting the case. You’ve thought about it many times, making up scenarios and trying to find a way to get out of them. No one has ever trained you in that field or shown any ways of dealing with it, and there was an exact, fucked-up reason for it.

“Or we could just...” His eyes wandered off to the two weapons lying on the ground, tears welling up fast. There’s no way that was the only other option, yet...

For a moment, you glanced at the objects as well, not out of interest, but pure disgust. Just a mere thought of what could happen made your stomach twirl and heart hurt. Turning around to look at the other, you noticed a teardrop that made it down his jaw. Wiping it off gently, you smiled, speaking in a low and calm whisper.

“No... no. Let’s... let’s go. Let’s disappear together, wherever that takes us, Juyeon” The mind finally accepted the sudden feelings that were no longer confined and hidden. The imaginary, but nonetheless strong, cage and restrictions were no more. You finally felt proper euphoria of freedom.

Speechless, but immensely happy, that’s what Juyeon was in that exact moment. His chest abruptly wasn’t enough space for the organ that beat at an incredible pace, with new-found strength. Tightening his hold, the male pulled you towards his chest, into a first, proper hug. Your hands sneaked around his body, trying to squeeze as hard as possible and relish the beautiful moment. In such an intimate position, it was possible to feel that exact excited heartbeat of the male.

After a long period of comfortable silence, you quietly spoke into his chest, “Please piggyback me... wherever... I don’t think I can walk”  

“Oh my god, you’re hurt?!” Juyeon noted in an alarming tone, eyes immediately scanning your body and finally noticing a streak of red liquid on the concrete underneath your leg. He loudly cursed at himself for not seeing it earlier, hand reaching down to press on the wound. Although not fresh, it still gushed out more blood, earning another hiss from you.

“Yeah, no shit mister... fuck be careful! I wouldn’t go all baby... and soft on you if I... I didn’t feel like fainting. You were lucky today” You bit back jokingly, trying to keep the light atmosphere that was slowly coming down its high. Juyeon’s head shook at that, a quiet ‘you’re not in position to speak like that’ passing through his barely parted lips. A pair of hands worked fast on tying a thin jacket around your calf to stop further bleeding.  

“How?” He asked, confused but curious at the same time.

“I’d rather not talk about it” Your head turned away from the other, irises locking onto one of many holes on the wall. The male chuckled at that, checking the knot before standing up with knees half bent. He helped you stand up and climb up on his back, strong arms instantly gripping the back of your thighs.

“Bet you hurt yourself, clumsy”

“Yeah, bet”  

With a loud, content sigh, your head lowered onto Juyeon’s back, eyes closing as you finally drifted off to sleep. There, on the closed, but broad battlefield, the two warriors accepted their faith. They made up their minds for a different future, something neither were sure how to approach, but were more than ready to experience together. A future that didn’t revolve around blood, murder and secrecy, one that would allow both to heal and live their lives breathing properly.

Quatervois, a heavy change no one expected. A decision made fast, but a result of long, aimless thought and experience. And some may say this was deemed to happen sooner or later, but was it? If things were just slightly different...  

Guess we would never know.

AN: well... here it is? truthfully speaking, i’m very satisfied with this work, and i love every piece of it, but it has been giving me so much stress oh my god... writing has taken me so much time because i tried so hard to make it perfect and i really hope reading almost 22k of this was worth it, and that you’ve enjoyed it. at some parts, i’ve maybe focused on the main female character too much, but i think that to understand her character, it’s important to have an in-depth point of view. i’d really appreciate it (to the moon and back) if you guys could leave feedback for this one. thank you so so so much for reading, have a good day <3

[crickets-lovely-place]

alright so I’m relistening to Wooden Overcoats and plotting out a soulmate au that I’m writing, and I’m OBSESSED with this moment in s1e3, mostly in regards to one Georgie Crusoe. It’s at the end of Georgie’s date with Chapman, when Rudyard accuses Chapman of trying to lure Georgie over to his staff, and then an argument starts, and Antigone just wanted to watch her film, please.

Okay, and what I can’t get over is this moment for Georgie. During this conversation (full transcription under the cut) is the EXACT moment Georgie snaps regarding Chapman. Somehow I’ve never noticed it before?? Like, I thought it was funny that Georgie gets so annoyed about Chapman’s vagueness and “a long time ago”ing, that she gets so tired of him. I thought it was more of a gradual buildup thing?

And like, that’s true? She’s annoyed earlier in the ep when he “a long time ago”s at dinner, and she calls him out for it.

But it’s this moment here, at the cinema, when she snaps.

When Rudyard suggests that Chapman is trying to lure a “young impressionable girl” onto his staff, and Georgie protests that she’s not impressionable, and Chapman says “worse luck” and then won’t own up to that comment, and won’t explain it. (because I am a person who loves Eric Chapman, I think he leans more toward meaning it’s a shame he can’t get Georgie on his staff, because he thinks she’d be a valuable employee, and less toward meaning it’s a shame she’s not impressionable, but I digress)

What is it about Chapman saying “worse luck” to her declaration that she’s not impressionable (and by context can’t be lured to his staff roster) that sets her off? It’s totally justified. Georgie is smart, and capable, and if Chapman really did mean that it’s a pity she’s not impressionable, then yeah. That’s a BIG old yikes, majorly skeevy behaviour from him.

And Georgie calls it out, demands an explanation, which he doesn’t give. And she’s incredibly irritated with him for the rest of the conversation, ranging from sarcastic to incredibly cool to curt. Eric tries to save the interaction a few times (honestly it’s maybe a little gaslighty of him, he says they’re all worked up over nothing), but she is NOT having it, and she makes that clear. And then she leaves.

Anyway. I just. I want to know. Georgie doesn’t take any nonsense, ever. But she reacts SO strongly to this moment. What happened in her past? Like, who hurt her, that she’d be so suspicious of that statement? Did Nana teach her to watch out for people who would take advantage of her? Did her parents (does she have parents)? Or is Georgie just, that way? Did she cultivate this instinct in herself to stay out of bad situations and away from people she wasn’t sure of.

I’m obsessed with The Moment Georgie Crusoe Lost All Esteem For Eric Chapman.

Also, this interaction makes her animosity towards him make so much more sense to me? Like, she felt genuinely disrespected/possibly unsafe, and he did nothing to change that. And he really, really, hast to work through the next few seasons to earn back her trust and respect. Also, this makes the alley proposal somehow incredibly worse, can’t wait to listen to that again with this new knowledge.

tl;dr - Georgie SNAPS bc Chapman says something sorta shady, and I am obSESSED.

sidenote: Georgie also calls this date with Chapman an “experiment”, can we say lesbian Georgie rights?? I’m pretty sure she’s canonically only ever interested in women. Eric Chapman was her one foray into going on a date with a man and YIKES to that lol

scene: cinema, Friday night. Rudyard & Madeleine crash Georgie & Eric’s date. Antigone just wanted to watch a depressing French film. and then this conflict goes down

Georgie: Rudyard, just explain yourself.

Rudyard: Georgie, I know what he’s up to. Admit it, Chapman! Enticing a poor, impressionable young girl into your staff roster.

Georgie: *scoffs* I am not impressionable.

Eric: Worse luck.

Georgie: Excuse me?

Eric: Nothing!

Georgie: Could you repeat what you just said?

Eric: No, no, Georgie, really nothing. Should we just--

Georgie: Oh, I’m sorry, Eric, you look sad. Maybe I should hold your hand for comfort.

Rudyard: Don’t do it, it’s a trap!

Eric: Butt out of this, Rudyard!

Antigone: You can’t say that.

Rudyard: Thank you

Antigone: Butt out of this, Rudyard!

Georgie: You know what, this was a fun experiment and everything, but I think I’m done here.

Eric: Oh, sure, French films aren’t for you--

Georgie: I didn’t mean the film, Eric.

Eric: Whoa whoa whoa, look, I think we’re getting worked up over nothing here--

Antigone: God, now he’s being reasonable!

Eric: Maybe I should push her around like everybody else!

Antigone: Excuse me.

Georgie: You can’t speak to her like that!

Eric: Who the bloody hell can I speak to and how would you like me to do it?

[chaos from the movie]

E, A, G: What happened???

Rudyard: Two unicycles collided. It’s getting good, this.

Antigone: Right, in the name of Christ, can anybody not watching the film just piss off and leave me alone.

Georgie: Why not. Nana’ll be wonderin’ where I am anyway.

Eric: Oh, good point, I’ll walk you home.

Georgie: Eric. I think the date is over now, eh?

Eric: Wait, Georgie, I-- [she leaves] *inhale* You know what, I. It’s no big deal. We’re good. Antigone, Rudyard, enjoy the film. [he leaves]

idk maybe none of that was new for y’all, but I am having a REVELATION.

[enithinggoes]

Wanderer’s Refuge, chapter 2: caught red-handed

Agatha and Ursa knew they wouldn’t be able to stay flying for long, by morning they were already starting to feel hungry and thirsty, so Ursa pointed them to a nearby town she’d heard of so they could get supplies and maybe some maps of the country, they brought the train down as they approached and parked it hidden in a small clearing, then the girls went together into town, looking to find some means to get by just for the near future, as luck would have it, a very important opportunity was waiting just around the corner…

A young red haired man who preferred to go just by his first name was leaning against a wall, gathering his thoughts. He had the plan, he had the smarts, he had the stuff, he just needed the extra hands, someone desperate enough to take the risks and not ask about a big cut…

“We’re gonna need a way to make money.” Said Ursa, pushing Agatha’s wheelchair along the busy streets “and I don’t think people are gonna be super keen on hiring two teenagers that came out of nowhere.”

The man reacted instantly upon hearing them, “Perfect!”, and pushed himself off the wall, catching the coin he was flipping with a flourish and quickly turning to the girls and extending a gloved hand, he wore a dapper suit and a cheeky smile. “Good morning, young ladies! Haven’t seen you around here, are you two looking for a quick job?”

Agatha was a bit stunned by this sudden encounter, so it was all she could do to put her hand out, which the young man vigorously shook.

“Who are you and what the hell do you want with us?” said Ursa, clearly on edge.

“The name’s Lawrence, and there’s no need to be so rude. I want to take you two to lunch, my treat; I know this great place downtown. There, we can discuss a way you can both make 100 shillings in less than a week.”

The two girls glanced at each other, this man was twelve kinds of shady, but 200 total pounds was enough for not only basic supplies, but probably a few mattresses and an ice box, maybe even some coal(they hypothesized that maybe giving the train’s engine some steam might make Agatha less tired from flying).

“We’ll talk over lunch, but we do reserve the right to back out even if you pay for us!” Ursa answered, eyeing Lawrence suspiciously

“Of course, of course. Right this way, then!” The redhead did something close to a twirl turning back and leading them quickly down an alley.

At the restaurant, Lawrence had impeccable table manners, even better than Agatha’s, and definitely than Ursa’s, who was scarfing down an expensive cut of beef when he asked “So, I’ve told you ladies my name, it would be rude if you didn’t give me yours.”

“I’m Agatha Clarke, it’s a pleasure to meet you. And this is Ursa Martin,” said the white-haired girl, Ursa just mumbled in agreement while still chewing.

“Now, an illustrious coal baron, mr. Robert Evans, is coming to town with an entourage to visit the local mines, which have been drying up for a few decades. And I’d wager, with proper prestidigitation we can make a deal with him that shall be quite lucrative for us.” Lawrence explained with a devilish smile.

“So you’re a scammer.” Ursa said matter-of-factly.

“I prefer to think of myself as a merchant that really knows how to make a sale.” He said, entirely unperturbed.

“Alright, I’m down to scam a coal baron, what’s the game?”

“I’m glad you’ve asked, partner.”

Over the next few days, Lawrence brought the girls over to where he’d been staying, it was a small hotel room, surprising considering the apparent quality of his suit, Ursa had to carry Agatha’s chair up, since there were only stairs. There, he showed them a few large bags of oddly shaped rocks he’d collected plus some soot-based paint, “made it myself!” he commented with a wink.

They spent their time painting the rocks very thoroughly to look as much like coal as possible, while putting them out to dry, Agatha innocently asked “Sir Lawrence, I hope you don’t mind but why do you keep all your belongings in bags and pouches, is there something wrong with the room’s lockers?”

“Well, you see, I just like to keep my things close at hand.” The red-haired man seemed bashful, like that was only half an answer, still, Agatha didn’t want to pry. “You’re a very wholesome woman, aren’t you? I was actually a bit worried you’d be against my business model.”

“Well, you see, sir, I don’t think a baron of anything is going to be hurting for money anytime soon. And we don’t have many options in the present moment.” Agatha avoided mentioning she was already, by all accounts, a criminal.

 Lawrence put his knuckle to his chin and said “I see, I guess I misjudged you a little. Well, then we’d best get back to work, we have some rehearsing to do!” He felt like he understood her a bit more, but cut the conversation short, he didn’t like getting too attached to his “coworkers”

The three of them slept in Lawrence’s cramped room, Agatha and Ursa wanting to avoid the hassle of moving back to the train and the possibility of revealing their magical artifice, who knows how Lawrence could react?

The guests shared a sleeping bag of his cuddled together on the floor, while Lawrence rested on his bed, never taking off his gloves or turning his back to the door.

When a total of 5 days had passed, the final preparations were made in the morning and the three headed close to the city’s entrance, when they saw a man in a strikingly black suit accompanied by three burly lads, his eyes and nose turned slightly upwards as he strode, Ursa and Lawrence, both wearing dirty overalls, walked down onto the street, shouting at each other.

“Ya can’t sell those, those are all that’s left of Pa!” said Ursa, faking the accent people imagined miners to have.

“Well he worked himself ta death findin’ these so we could live a decent life!” retorted Lawrence, carrying a large, metal bucket full of painted pebbles.

“We could take over this whole town if ya just worked in that mine for a few more weeks!” she grabbed onto Lawrence’s shoulders, shaking him.

“We ain’t gonna be alive for more weeks if Ah don’t sell these!” He pushed her away, purposefully letting the rocks shake and make noise inside the bucket.

The baron’s bodyguards were about to push the two away from his path when, with an elegant, but firm hit of his cane onto the sidewalk, he commanded them to stop. Lawrence and Ursa turned to face him, feigning surprise.

“Now now, there’s no need for such vulgarism. Young man, would you kindly show me what you’re holding there?” He spoke to Lawrence slowly, like one speaks to a child.

As Ursa pretended to hold Lawrence back, he proudly showed the contents of the bucket, saying “This is what Pa used to call ‘charboné eterinow’, said he’d heard of it when he was young like me, burns as long as ya like, it does.”

“’Charbon eternél’, hmm, the eternal coal” Mr. Evans was clearly proud of his french, “could you show it to me in action?”

Lawrence put the bucket on the floor, smiling widely as he bragged “of course, mistah! Let me just get it burnin’ real quick” he took a little flask of moonshine from his pocket and let some drip onto the inside of the bucket, before setting it on fire with a simple tinderbox and quickly removing his hand before the flames flared to life.

“Easy there!” He quickly leaned back, his hands hovering at the sides of the bucket as they watched the flames cover the entirety of the bottom of the bucket, making the rocks hard to even look without feeling pain in one’s eyes.

Ursa was very nervous about this step, in theory, there should be nothing stopping the flame from fizzling out once all the alcohol was consumed, but Lawrence had assured her he “had a plan”. Lo and behold, the fire didn’t go out, instead it flared beautifully up, almost burning the coal baron’s clothes as it seemed to reach towards his eyes before stabilizing inside the bucket.

Whatever it was that Lawrence had done, it seemed that he was quite anxious too, as he stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth in concentration and quickly started to sweat, thought that might have been from the heat, while his hands hovered near the bucket for more than two minutes before he quickly turned it upside down, fast enough for none of the rocks to go flying.

  “That should put it out in a few” said Lawrence, holding the bucket while the oxygen from the bucket depleted until he raised it up to reveal the still perfectly intact rocks underneath.

“See! Not one bit a wear n’ tear! Pretty special, right?” Lawrence turned looked up towards Robert Evans.

The coal baron hid his amazement by biting his lip and muttered “Special indeed.”

“Well, waddaya think? Pa told us these would be worth a fortune, how’s 600 sound?” Lawrence named a tall price, all part of negotiations.

“No, no, this is certainly impressive, but 600 is too much for a novelty, I’ll be generous with you and give you 300.”

“That’s a done deal!” The men shook hands, and after the money was exchanged, he paid Ursa and said he still had “some details to deal with really quick” so she and Agatha could go back to the room or wherever they wanted now.

Ursa met up with Agatha nearby, and excitedly told her about how the plan had worked, how they had enough money now to buy the things they would need to live for a while. Agatha asked about Lawrence, but Ursa said they shouldn’t expect him to hang around for long after the job, he was clearly a man with no interest in roots, ready to leave at any time.

“Guess that doesn’t make him very different from us.” Agatha commented with a sympathetic smile.

“huh… guess not.” Commented Ursa, made somewhat aware of her cynicism.

Meanwhile, Lawrence was making the “real” part of this plan come to fruition, he brought mr. Evans(at his request), to the “source” of the “charbon eternél”. A field of bare stone around a dark cave, were he’d half-buried, just conspicuously enough, dozens of painted rocks just like the ones in the bucket he carried, he counted on the baron’s arrogance to make him believe Lawrence wouldn’t see the potential something like a “mine of ever-burning coal” could have to completely destroy the current state of the economy.

“Here it is mister, this is where Pa found ‘em, spent 25 years looking for ‘em, he did.” Lawrence said, pointing around the area on the outskirts of town.

“I see,” said Robert Evans, “the site of such an interesting find should definitely be preserved, would you be willing to sell it to me for about 500 pounds?”

“Fahve hundred! Why that’s too kind, sir! I’d love to give it to you, I’ve been trying to get off this town and make it in the big city.” Lawrence rapidly shook Evans’ hand, keeping up the farce that he was the one being tricked with a lower value than this could really be worth, his plan had worked perfectly.

Lawrence went back to his room, with a score like this, 600 pounds all to himself, he really should take the chance to exit the scene as quick as he could, before anyone caught on and came to ask him for refunds.

He put his suit back on and gathered his things, his clothes, his sleeping bag, his toothbrush, his switchblade, any trace of the time he’d spent here, the only thing he left behind was a note with “good luck out there, don’t look for me.” For the people who had been his roommates for the last week, he pushed a pang of guilt at giving them such a small share of the score and just disappearing without a word away with the thought that this was just “the game”, and he’d just learned to play it well.

Lawrence thought a bit about where he could go now, probably somewhere with a big market and lots of gullible tourists. Yeah, that’d be good for a few more months, maybe even a year and a half.

After picking out a town south of where he was, he bought his ticket and waited inside the station, it would still a few hours until the train he’d booked came, but he didn’t want to risk any unfavorable encounters by walking around outside.

Unfortunately that didn’t stop two burly men, who he recognized as the coal baron’s bodyguards, from coming up to him and telling him to get up and come with them. Ok, a little snag, nowhere to just run away, no trains for a long time, but it’s fine, he can weasel his way out of this.

They brought him into an alleyway, where he met mr. Robert Evans again, he didn’t seem upset, but was definitely not friendly, as soon as Lawrence saw him, he started saying “I can explain,”.

“So,” interrupted the baron, “It appears to me you were not fully honest with your description of this ‘ever-burning coal’, were you?” He showed one of the painted rocks with a part broken off, showing the gray center.

“Alright, you got me, I was trying to pull one over on you, you’ve gotta know it’s a common thing around here, that’s the game, and you won! I’ll pay you back with 50% extra, promise.”

The coal baron took a step forward, smirking at Lawrence dropping the façade he’d adopted when speaking to him. “I see, but I think I have a better idea of how you could… reward me for this “win”. Would you mind telling me how you got that fire to keep burning that long?”

“It was the alcohol!” Lawrence sputtered out, “I-it is mixed with a slower burning substance that kept it bright longer!”

“Seize his hands, please.” The two bodyguards grabbed onto Lawrence’s arms, he was shoved to the ground, bruising his chin and getting his arms held behind his back, his left glove was pulled off, revealing crimson-red fingers.

“Ah, the devil’s hand, I suspected it when I noticed your gloves were the only thing you wore on both occasions where we met, so I think I know a way you can repay me even better:” Evans put his foot on top of Lawrence’s head, pressing it to the floor. “You see, I happen to know there’s a 500 pound reward for capturing your kind, dead or alive, so along with taking back the money you stole from me, I’ll be making quite a big profit.

Lawrence tried to look forward, find something he could do to escape, at the end of the alleyway, he could just barely see two girls in new clothes, one of them in a wheelchair, maybe it was Agatha and Ursa! They could help him, right? No, he left them before, and maybe they even knew he’d lowballed them, why would they risk their lives for someone like him?

“Anything to say for yourself, monster? Aren’t you gonna squirm some more? Or can you at least face death like a man”

He couldn’t find anything, after all, he’d tried everything before, nobody ever listened, ever saw him like a person after knowing what his hands meant, they called him a living timebomb, a danger to society, he’d grown used to it by now, he could try to burn them all to death, become fitting of his description, use this supposed power that had made him a target all his life…

Before he could finish weighing if he’d rather risk trying to escape while they dragged him to the local precinct or give up on trying to subvert their judgment of him by just leaning into the raging fire, the weight over his body suddenly disappeared as Ursa launched her whole body with a burst of steam it into Robert Evans, her elbow connecting with his back and the force throwing him into his bodyguards and knocking them off their feet.

“Can you run?” she crouched down and asked him while untying his wrists.

“Certainly better than the alternative.” Lawrence answered, already getting up onto his knees and putting his gloves back on.

They ran out of the alley and Lawrence followed Ursa as she wheeled Agatha out of town and towards the nearby woods, he didn’t know where they were going but if they had a route to get away from here it certainly beat staying.

When they came to a clearing, the young man had a hard time believing what he saw, a two wagon train in the middle of a forest.

“Get in!” Said Ursa, lifting Agatha’s chair onto the train as Lawrence followed them inside

“I don’t know if I can give it liftoff, last time we were already in the air when it manifested.” Agatha went to the train’s caboose and lifted herself to the conductor’s chair, focusing on visualizing the train in flight as she’d seen before. The train started moving as its tracks began to form, but it couldn’t quite accelerate quick enough to beat the upwards incline, the boiler made a roaring noise, like a starved tiger crying out in rage.

“Shit, I forgot to get any actual coal while we were out!” said Ursa, looking for something flammable she could part with, maybe they’d have enough time before someone came for Lawrence to go out and cut down some trees.

Lawrence clutched his own arms, hesitating a bit to do something he knew would be an unnecessary risk, but he owed at least some help to these people, right? “You’ve already collected the necessary water for the boiler right?”

“Yes, we’ve even already filled it, we just need a flame to light it,” replied Agatha, still concentrating on trying to move the train through her sheer will.

Lawrence pulled back his sleeves, he didn’t want to burn them with an effort this large, he extended his hands into the boiler and flames entirely engulfed the inside of it, barely licking at his forearms. The heat quickly started transforming the water in the boiler into steam, launching the train into motion forwards and upwards.

Agatha and Ursa stared at Lawrence’s hands, marveling at the beauty of the flames and their incredible power before Agatha had to focus on guiding her machine and Ursa had to hold on to avoid falling over from the sudden acceleration.

 After they’d picked up some good altitude and speed, Lawrence pulled his hands out of the boiler and turned to look out the window, seeing the world from above for the first time, right here, it felt like nobody could hurt him, no one could look down or him or hunt him down for a strange birthmark he never asked for, it was beautiful.

“So…” He turned to Agatha, “how long can I stay here, could you at least drop me off at the next town you come to?”

“Oh.” Agatha didn’t turn away from the blue sky she was plowing through, “You may leave if you’d like, sir, but you’re welcome to stay as well.”

Lawrence did a double-take, why would anybody take this risk? Put their own lives at stake sheltering a man who could never not be a target for the rest of his life? “Really”

Ursa came up to him, tapping him on the shoulder, “yeah man, we’re not throwing you back out there.” She pointed at the town, now tiny from the window of the train.

Lawrence smiled, putting his forearm in front of his eyes, maybe to shelter them from the sun, or to shelter himself from showing his watery eyes.

“Thank you.”

[valdarian]

Invader Zim-Infinite Pink: ch.3

Warning(s): This fic is intended for mature audiences!  violence/fighting. I tried to keep it from being too graphical but be advised.

A more action packed chapter. Couldn't get this out of my head. I really wanted to explore a bit of the Almighty Tallest after Zim's trial as well as a look in their shared past.

A reminder: Voel=Tallest Red, Theron=Tallest Purple. 

More notes at bottom.

Summary: Mirage- A look into the past. Nothing is ever what it seems.

(First Timeline: Somewhere in a distant past.)

"You've really done it this time Zim!" Theron admonished, ducking a laser aimed at his head as he ran.

"I've done it? How was this Zim's fault? My plan was flawless! This was clearly you're fault!" The magenta eyed Irken yelled. Stopping to point an accusing finger at the taller elite.

"Would you both shut up! We don't have time for this!" Voel shouted, throwing the smaller Irken over his shoulder as he passed. Theron followed closely after, hoisting his sniper rifle closer.

They dodged a few more lasers. Racing through the remote streets of some shady black-market planet. Followed closely by a group of Glozikian mercenaries(1).

It wasn't that unusual for other aliens to take advantage of the Empire's underbelly. Refugees from conquered planets and limited resources seemed to facilitate all kinds of dastardly dealings. Groups of various mercenaries and mafia gangs popping up left and right.

All vying for power, influence or monies.

Typically they'd be left to their own devices. Recently however, a few had gotten a bit too bold for the Empire's liking and needed to be put back in their place.

Their mission was supposed to be just a routine bust. Get in, take out the supply and any targets, get out.

Send them a message about who is really in charge.

A larger and more experienced squad had been sent to another location. The veteran's were to deal the Sovoxian mafia(2) on another side of the planet. A nasty bunch that they learned practically ruled the underground here. It's also where the core of the dealings were supposed to take place.

Their squad had been sent to deal with the Glozikian's group. A new, but fast rising gang on this side of the planet. They had been causing a ruckus at some of the shipping docks. Upsetting the trade routes. They were said to be blackmailing and threatening the traders, taking much of their monies or even goods as payment for their "protection".

They had expected an overzealous, yet relatively small group to be in their location. That's what their intel had told them anyway. It'd be something new recruits could easily take care of on their own.

Not that they had any doubts. While their track record was a...tiny bit hectic and unorthodox. They were still elites and they hadn't failed any of their missions yet.

Maybe that was why they were always paired together. Not that he mind. A smile forming even as his lungs burned from running.

It was exhilarating!

A laser just barely missed his antenna.

Well, usually anyway.

However, their intel had apparently been wrong. Very wrong.

The gang was far larger and dangerous then they had expected. Fully organized and armed to the teeth. Guarding the area as they moved an abnormally large amount of cargo. A few Sovoxian's were among them as well. It was all too suspicious to be any normal dealings.

He was going to give intel a piece of his mind when they got back. It was probably Huk's doing, that smarmy little Irken always had it in for him!

Normally the veteran squad would be called in to deal with this. Not a trio of fresh faced elites, but when you got three of some of the most stubborn and prideful Irken in one group...

Besides! The others were busy with the Sovoxian's on the other side of the planet and it would take too long to call for backup from Irk anyway.

It's not like they really had much of a choice, now did they.

How could they just let something like this go? I mean, how could they even call themselves elite if they ran away now.

It would be so shameful!

Sure they were outclassed but they weren't out yet! They've fought tougher things.

All for the glory of the Empire!

Zim had luckily had some explosives on him.

Sneaking around the dock they had managed to place the bombs in a few areas. Even taking out some of the guards that had been by themselves. Once they were in a safe area they set them off.

In only a few seconds the flurry of explosions had taken out a large chunk of the criminals. A nearby crane falling onto their main supply ship, rendering it unusable.

While the remnants dealt with the fallout, an argument had happened over their next step.

Long story short, they were discovered.

It had been pure chaos from there.

A rain of lasers and smoke had quickly clouded the area.

Just when they thought they were almost finished with the enemy, a downed Glozikian had called for backup.

Low on ammo and exhausted, they had no choice but to tactfully retreat for now.

It wasn't fleeing!

They rounded a corner.

Voel stopped, taking aim at a Glozikian that had caught up to them.

"Excellent shot Voel!" Zim smiled, still atop his shoulder.

The red eyed Irken smirked.

"Lucky shot." Theron scoffed, taking out his own mercenary as another one rounded the corner as well. He could hear more still on the way.

They ran a bit further, ducking into a nearby alley. Coming out of it at an empty construction site.

Perfect.

They took positions. using the next few minutes before the mercenaries caught up with them to catch their breath and reload what little ammo they still had.

"Zim, you got anything?" Voel questioned. Aiming his pistol at the alley entrance as he took point. His antenna stood tall as he focused on the nearing gang members.

"In a second." Zim responded, searching through a nearby crate of supplies the construction workers had left.

"There they are!" A Glozikian shouted. Laser fire following soon after.

One down, another, a few more shots rang out.

Theron was getting nervous, he blinked sweat from his eyes. He didn't have many rounds left.

"Any second now Zim!" His rifle clicked, a Glozikian jumped at him. He used the frame of his gun to keep the sharp toothed alien away from his face

"Do not rush ZIM! The magenta eyed irken yelled back. A little noise of triumph soon followed from the smaller irken.

"ZIM!"

A bottle went flying, as it hit the ground, flames enveloped a group of Glozikian. His opponent was immediately distracted by the screams of his brethren. He took the moment to push the other away and attacked it fiercely with the butt of his weapon.

Theron took a deep breath after it was done. Cardiac-spooch still beating rapidly. He heard the sound of a few more bottles breaking and saw Voel taking out any mercenaries left untouched by the flames. The red eyed Irken had picked up one of the Glozikian's weapons somewhere along the way.

Voel meet up with him when all was quiet. They walked over to Zim.

The magenta eyed Irken held up a bottle with a cloth in it. "Vortian whisky, great for explosives". He placed it back down into a crate with a few similar bottles.

"What's the next step then?" Theron asked, a note of exhaustion in his voice. He wasn't one for physical fights like his companions. Preferring to keep his distance whenever possible.

"There was a Sovoxian there. A big one that had left in that ugly vehicle. How could they ruin a limited edition XXXX54' model with such an atrocious paintjob!"

"The one with all the jewels?" Voel questioned, ignoring his companion's complaints. "You think it might've been the boss?"

"Seemed like it or at least some kind of higher up. Pretty sure he was wearing a snarl beast coat." Zim explained, searching through the non charred bodies for any ammo or weapons. He threw a cartridge to Theron.

Voel looted an extra pistol as well. The weight of the Glozikian weapon didn't compare to the red eyed Irken's favorite pistol but it probably made him feel safer.

"Bit strange to have a Sovoxian on this side of the planet though. Thought they never left the cities." Theron looked up from reloading his favorite weapon. He always felt best with it by his side.

"Wonder what they're doing here? Must be pretty important for the Sovoxian's mafia to work with the Glozikians."

"They had said something about meeting up a place called the Twisty Fosion." Zim suggested, gleefully inspecting a newly acquired shotgun.

"They'll be on guard now." Theron pointed out.

"All the more fun for us then." Zim's eye were alight with the impending doom.

Theron couldn't help but smirk.

He was exhausted and wanted nothing more to have a snack and cleansing wash. Yet, he had to admit a part of him thrived in this kind of chaos. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Twisted Foxian as it was actually called, was a shady nightclub on the edge of the town. Glozikian's guarded the entire area. Zim pointed out the vehicle the Sovoxian mafia boss had used.

The Glozikian were really in cahoots with Sovoxian Mafia. Why?

Voel put his binoculars down. This was going to be tough. Word about the attack on their supply base must have gotten back to them at this point. They were sure to be on guard. A vehicle pulled into the alley below them. Glozikian's hopping out and beefing up the already tight security.

He ducked back down, using the walls of the roof to hide him as they planned their next move.

"We can't just walk in there."

Zim shifted, he wanted nothing more to just run in there guns a blazing but even he knew they weren't in the best shape. He only had a limited number of his Molotov's and they were limited on ammo.

A backdoor opened and the Sovoxian don stepped out, flanked by bodyguards. It'd be easy to snipe him from here but they still didn't know what was going on.

The vehicle started up and quickly sped away.

"Should we follow?" Zim questioned.

"There's no way we'll catch up."

"Then what do we do?"

"I'll try contacting Squad Alpha." Theron was meet with the displeased looks of his partners.

"Look! We got admit this is way over our antenna! I got the feeling this is bigger than anyone realizes." He hissed.

Voel and Zim shared a look before they each nodded.

"Fine"

Theron radioed their seniors but received no reply. His antenna flattened at the radio static. He tried a few more times.

"Come in squad Alpha. Squad Delta requesting aid. Location coordinates xx.xxxxx-xx.xxxxx." Nothing beyond radio static came through.

He meet the nervous stares of his squamates.

"What now? Our ship is half way across the city. Might have been found, they could be looking for us."

"We can't stay here." Voel said, taking charge. "We either make it to our ship or we see this mission through to the end." He said somberly.

"Then should we head back to the supply base? It's on the way and might hold some clues." Theron suggested.

"We don't have much of a choice."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The supply dock was quite when they arrived back at it. Only smoldering embers and the still bodies of their fallen enemies among them. The planet's sun was setting, adding to the eerie atmosphere. It didn't look like anyone else had been here. Yet.

Theron held tightly to his rifle as they swept the area. His antenna stood alert for any signs of ambush.

They searched for any clues along the way. Looking for docking logs, audio files or anything else that would help piece the puzzle together. So far, nothing.

The supply ship was in ruins. Even more than he remember it had been when they had fle- tactfully retreated.

The crane that had fallen on it, was now a few hundred feet away atop some shipping containers. What was left of it anyway.

Had it blown up? The twisted metal looked like it had blown the ship outwards from the inside. Were they transporting something volatile? Bombs? weapons? Sovoxian's usually dealt in illegal drugs or overpriced luxury goods. This wasn't like their usual MO.

They made their way to the back of the lot. Avoiding wreckage as they entered the only building there.

Once inside they saw a few pathways lay before them. Voel turned to his partners, making a motion to split up. They would have to if they wanted to cover more ground. Every second they spent here was increasing their risk of being discovered. They split up the last remaining Molotov's between them. Voel taking most as he decided to parole the perimeter. Zim stayed on the main floor and Theron made his way upstairs.

His cardiac-spooch thumped loudly. He willed himself to keep his breathing steady. Now wasn't the time to let his guard down. Glozikian's weren't hard to take down but in a large group they could pose a problem.

Turning into a darkened office, he was glad to see the low lights of a terminal. It didn't take long for him to crack the code on it. Who put their password as Dookie?

Theron's eyes widen as he read through it.

They were selling weapons to the Noyings!(3) The Empire's sworn enemies, worse than even those energy stealing Meekrob!

They had killed Almighty Tallest Pink! Backstabbed the Tallest during peaceful negotiations between their empires ages ago. The first thing Almighty Tallest Miyuki had done after being enthroned was promised to avenge her fallen predecessor. Sparking a war that had gone on for hundreds of cycles. It had only ended some 200 cycles ago in a shaky truce.

Were the Noying's getting ready for war. Were they thinking of attacking the Empire again?

This was huge!

"Ah!" He heard Zim cry out and ran downstairs, his gun raised and ready to pull the trigger. He rounded a hallway into the main hall and nearly got his head blown off.

A trap!

Theron pressed his back against the wall. Taking a second to calm his racing cardiac-spooch, before he chanced a peak around the corner.

There were four Glozikians, two on either side of the mafia boss, each with a gun raised in his direction.

Zim was held in one of the large arms of the Sovoxian Don. His shotgun lay a few feet away. His PAK unusable due to the hold.

"Well, well what do we have here?" The Sovoxian Boss said. All four of the Don's eyes looked his way in boredom. Zim struggled in the tight grip to no avail.

"By order of the Empire, you're under arrest for colluding with the Empire's enemies!" Theron announced, trying to keep his voice steady. Where in the void was Voel? He needed to buy some time. What should he do?

"Under arrest?" The Don laughed. Jewelry clinking as his body shook with the sound.

"The Empire means nothing to me. You Irken always think you're so powerful but I got news for you! The only thing that matters in this world is monies. Monies that you and your little friend here cost me!" The don said, all previous mirth wiping off his face. His grip on the small irken tightened.

"Zim is not little!" Zim glared at the oversized Sovoxian through gritted teeth. The four eyes turned to him, a grin soon spread on the mobster's face. The smaller Irken's antenna pressed flat against his head.

"Now that I look at you, aren't you a pretty one. Maybe I'll just have to take you as part of the payment you owe me."

"Disgusting! Unhand ZIM!" The smaller Irken squirmed with new effort in the Sovoxian's hold.

"Feisty, I Like that." The mafia boss smirked, making a motion with his hand to the Glozikian's behind him. They began moving towards Theron but stopped as the building shook. Distracted by the activity.

Theron realized this may be his only chance and quickly pulled the trigger. The nearest bodyguard fell. Another tried to rush him, only to meet their comrades fate. The remaining two scrambled for cover.

"What are you fools doing! Get him!" The Don yelled, trying to keep his footing as the building rattled again. They could hear the sound of metal and stone twist and break somewhere in the distance.

Was the building about to collapse?

What in the void was going on?

He got a shot on one of the guard's legs. He gritted his teeth. He had a Molotov on him but the space was too confined and he might get Zim in the process.

The Don grew increasingly furious. Face turning a few shades darker as he continued to yell at his mercenaries.

Theron used the distraction again to take out another guard and then the last.

He glared at the mobster as he walked into the room fully. "Let. him. go." Rifle aimed at the Sovoxian's head.

The Don glared at him, quickly pulling out his own pistol, decorated just like himself and his transportation. He pressed it to Zim's jaw.

"Come any closer and this one gets it!"

"It's so gaudy!" Zim complained. Despite the threat to his life, the smaller Irken was not going to forgive the mobster for his horrendous decorating choices.

Theron faltered and the mobster took aim at him. He ducked just in time.

The oversized Sovoxian quickly made a break for the exit. The elite close on his heels. A whirlwind of fury growing within the Irken.

"Guards! Guards! The Sovoxian Don yelled into the shipping yard. He was no fool and made sure to bring backup. He wasn't gonna let a few pompous Irken ruin everything he worked for. This was the biggest score of the millennium for him.

It was just a little hiccup he told himself.

He was Donal Foxion Del Dookieton for universe sake! The most feared and powerful mafia boss on all of Glovox and soon, the galaxy!

A laser caught his ear. He let out a yell from the pain, quickly pushing a hand to it. He ran up the last remaining wreckage separating him from where his other guards should be.

Oh! Donal was gonna make sure to capture that annoying purple eyed Irken alive and make the other beg for death!

The don smirked as he came out on top of the wreckage. Laughing to himself at the fate that was about to befall the sniper elite.

Only to find nothing was there.

Where were his guards? Where was his beautiful limited edition XXXX54' model with a custom paint job featuring his gorgeous vision!

The mobster looked around. His perch allowed him an excellent view of the damage.

"MY PRECIOUS!" His vehicle had been driven into the side of the building.

The remains of his mercenaries' vehicle was turned over, having crashed into a gas tank. A large blast radius with what looked like the remnant of his men lay around it.

"W-What?" The Don muttered in disbelief. "How could this happen!? No, NO!"

The Don's arm grew lax and Zim quickly squirmed out of it. The mobster quickly snapped from his stupors and attempted to recapture the Irken, but Zim would not be taken off guard again. He used his PAK legs to gain some distance from the four legged alien.

Theron took aim.

One of the mobster's legs were pierced as a laser rang out. Sending the large alien tumbling to the ground.

The sniper gasped. He looked wildly around for the source.

"Voel!"

The red eyed irken dropped down from atop a nearby shipping container. Looking worse for wear. He'd been busy if the state of their surroundings was anything to consider.

Zim quickly ran to the pistol wielding Irken's side with a worried expression. Voel wiped blood from his mouth. "I'm fine." He smiled at the smaller irken.

Theron's Squeedlyspooch twisted. He turned to the mafia boss that was recovering from their fall and pointed his rifle at the mafia member's face.

"D-Don't shoot! Anything you want. Monies, power, pleasure! Let me live and it can all be yours!" The mobster bargained.

Theron looked at him in disgust. "Why are you selling weapons to the Noyings? What do they want with them."

"I don't know." Theron pressed his rifle closer to the Don's face.

"Really! It's just business. They pay me and I send them the goods. I don't question my clients." The mobster explained, seemingly docile now that his life was on the line.

He pulled away from the Sovoxian and looked to his companions for their next step. A mistake.

Zim's face twisted in horror.

"Theron!" The warning came to late. The Don still had his pistol and had it aimed right at him.

Shit! He'd forgotten about it in the chaos and was now going to pay the price. He attempted to dodge, a scream left his throat as the laser tore through his shoulder. His rifle fell to the ground beside him.

"You can kiss your empire goodbye!" The don attempted to run. His laugh cut short as his body crumpled to the ground.

Zim's face was dark with fury as he lowered Voel's pistol.

The two elite quickly made their way to their companion's side.

"Theron, stay with us." Zim set about tending to the wound.

It hadn't hit any major organs but was far too close to Theron's cardiac-spooch for the smaller Irken's comfort. If had been just a few inches over...

It would heal but any injury still put them at further risk right now.

Who knows how much longer they'd be on this planet. Who knew what or whoever else they would have to face. They were already reaching their limit. Voel looked like he would pass out at any moment and now Theron's shooting arm was down as well.

Things weren't looking good. "We have to make it back to the ship."

"And if someone found it?"

"We have no choice. Unless you want to be stuck on this planet until the end of our days!" He shared a look with Voel. Trying to keep a brave face despite the fear he felt.

Zim prayed for some kind of miracle.

The rotation of helicopter blades could be heard in the distance. Mafia reinforcements? They wouldn't be happy that their boss was dead.

Zim wasn't keen on sticking around to find out. "We have to get out of here now!" He helped Theron up. Voel followed a few feet behind them. Fatigue keeping the normally fast Irken at a slower pace.

They were stopped as a figure walked in front of them, a surviving Glozikian. A hand pressed to their side as they held up something in their other hand.

"If I'm going to the void, then I'm taking you with me!"

Zim's eyes had widened, he shoved Theron behind a container just as the blast enveloped them.

Theron came to. He could vaguely hear Voel calling their names through the ringing in his head. He coughed from pain and the dust kicked up by the blast as he struggled to sit up.

"Z-Zim?" He called, squinting through the dust. He could barely see the smaller Irken's figure through the smoke and reached out. He grasped the other's wrist and felt Zim turn towards him.

He looked on in horror as the smoke cleared. The magenta eyed Irken had injures all over. Theron noticed one of the other's antenna was partially missing and a leg was nearly severed.

"You're okay!" The other smiled before collapsing on him.

---------------------------------------------------------------- (Aboard the Massive, Almighty Tallest Purple's chambers.)

Theron awoke with a start. His cardiac-spooch beating rapidly within his chest.

He fell asleep again.

These nightmares. Dreams. Memories? Had been haunting him for cycles now. Ever since...

He doesn't want to think about that. It makes his Squeedlyspooch twist uncomfortably.

Theron knows he shouldn't. They had been justified. That Irken had been a menace to the Empire. As tallest, Voel and him were fully in their right to punish him. If anything they should have done it immediately. It was a mercy they had let him live as long as they had.

So why does he feel like a no good Blasnit every time he thinks about it.

Had the other somehow infected him with malware? Had the defect placed one of those ancient curses on him? The ones he hears so often whispered about by overly superstitious Irken.

Theron laughs at the thought.

He feels a headache coming on. This...what ever it was, had been particularly vivid this time around. He doesn't want to go back to sleep and feels to queasy to eat.

Anyone would surely be shocked to hear him say that.

He calls in a servant to run him a bath in the cleansing room. Maybe a good soak will help sooth him.

The purple eyed tallest closes his eyes as he lets out a sigh of relief as he relaxes into the warm water.

The dream replays in his mind. Purple eyes open and he stares at the ceiling in contemplation. Was it really a dream?

Theron runs a clawed finger over the web like scar on his shoulder. He hadn't paid it much mind before, he hadn't remember where it had come from. Figuring that he had been an elite once. He'd obviously had fought in many battles and must have gotten it in one of them.

He couldn't remember any of them though. In fact he couldn't remember most of his youth. He'd been a medic at one point? He thinks.

The Purple Tallest try's to recall his past, brow furrowing as few things come to mind.

There were lots of things he couldn't remember. Everything felt like it had been locked away and what little he did remember was seen through a foggy haze.

It's was like someone had taken a recording of his life and cut out large chunks of it. Then sowed together the remains. Only now was he finding the missing pieces.

He could remember the pain of the laser tearing through his muscle.

He could remember the taste of dust in his mouth.

He could remember the feeling of his cardiac-spooch beating every time Z-

Theron shook his head, trying to block out those thoughts.

The physical proof was there.

So why had he not remember something so important. He felt possessive, a part of him clinging to these new, old? memories with all it had. The thought of loosing them made his Squeedlyspooch twist.

Was it because of what he felt?

He wasn't defective.

Theron knows he had only been reprogramed once, when his title changed from elite to Almighty Tallest. He's sure about it...maybe. He feels unsettled.

Why couldn't he remember? Had he deleted them himself? Had someone done this to him?

A shiver passed through him.

Maybe Voel would know something. Theron was sure he'd go crazy otherwise.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------- (Aboard the Massive, Almighty Tallest Red's chambers.)

Banging reached Voel's hearing. He buried his head further into his pillow. Hoping who ever it was would go away. They had two Tallest! Surely they could go bother Theron with what ever it was.

The banging continued.

He scowled, hadn't he had told the servants he didn't want to be bothered today!

Another bang.

He sprung from the bed and reached the door in a few strides. Maybe he'd pull a Theron and throw them out the airlock. He wasn't in the mood today.

The door swished open and Theron's surprised face greeted him, fist still raised.

"No." He says flatly.

"What do you mean no? You don't even know what I was going to ask!" Theron pushes past him. A low growl builds in his throat. He really wasn't in the mood today.

"Theron, I swear if this is about changing the water fountains into nacho cheese ones aga-"

"It's not." Theron says.

Voel's taken off guard by the serious look on the other's face.

"But that is a good idea, I forgot about that." The purple tallest throws himself onto one of the sofas in the room. Patting the seat next to him.

Voel sighs, crossing his arms. His fellow ruler looks at him expectantly. He won't give in.

"Look, I'm tired. So unless this is serious can we talk about this later? Voel notices Theron perk up.

"Dreams keeping you up?"

The red eyed tallest feels shock course through him. "You know about them?"

"You too then! I'm not the only crazy one!" Theron says excitably.

"What do you know about them Theron!" Voel crosses the room and grabs his fellow tallest tightly. Shaking him slightly.

"Ow! Ow! Let go of me and I'll tell you!"

Voel let's go and sit across from the purple eyed Irken.

Theron rubs his arms "Jerk." He pouts.

"Theron." Voel warns.

"Voel, do you know how I got that scar on my shoulder?"

Voel is quite for a second as if recalling something horrific, before slowly nodding.

Like a dam being broken. The words tumble from Theron's mouth as he recalls everything he remembers, all the dreams he has had and compares it to Voel's own telling's.

They are both shocked as all the information lines up. ----------------------------------------------------------------

A few hours past, they continue to talk about the seemingly double life they've lived.

"Do you think something went wrong when we were enthroned?" Theron asks.

"I don't know. I feel like it goes further back then that though." Voel says, truthfully he is still confused about all of this and not sure what to make of it.

A thick silence grows between them.

Voel closes his eyes in thought or maybe sleep finally claiming him again.

Voel?" Theron begins, waiting for the other Tallest to acknowledge him. He hears a soft hmm from the other.

"40 Schmillion errors, can you imagine?" Theron whispers. Zim had been a forbidden subject ever since the Invader's trial.

"It's a lot." The red eye Irken nods solemnly.

"It's a nightmare is what it is. 40 schmillion Voel! It's no wonder he was so messed up." Theron looked over to his fellow tallest. Voel meets his eyes.

"He wasn't always like that."

"I know. But, it's just...a wonder how he managed to hide it for as long as he did. I can't imagine ever being able to function like that."

"Zim made it work."

"Do you think...?" Theron stops himself. Voel looks at him questioningly.

"It just doesn't make sense." He continues. He feels cold by were certain thoughts were leading him.

"No. It doesn't."

--------------------------------------------------------------

These are aliens that don't actually exist in IZ lore. (1): Glozikian's are nomads that often take mercenary jobs. A group exist on the black-market planet Glovox. Secretly working for the Sovoxian mafia. (2):Sovoxian's are four eyed and four legged natives of Glovox, many are shady creatures that enjoy nothing more than material wealth. (3) Noyings are the Irken nemesis after they were implicated in the murder of Almighty Tallest Pink. (Fun fact: Irken's were originally supposed to be called this. Really glad Jhonen went with Irken.)

Also how do you feel about tallest Zim?

Previous chapter: https://valdarian.tumblr.com/post/640605434229735424/invader-zim-infinite-pink-ch2

Next chapter: https://valdarian.tumblr.com/post/642137626436075520/invader-zim-infinite-ch4

[ts-unsolved]

The night we met

((i got carried away imagining this scenario, so here’s the conversation that lead to dee joining aboard the Investigation Station))

Summary: On principle, Dee tries to not let his major life choices be ruled by what happens over highly-priced drinks in crummy bars, but flying too close to the sun that was his old college rival had never been part of the equation before.  

Aka: Roman tries one last time to convince Dee to hunt ghosts with him, and he finally says yes. (Aka^2: can you believe Dee has been pining for two whole years? lmao get it together boi).

Content Warnings: Drinking, mentions of smoking, allusions to drug-dealing and generally shady/unsafe atmospheres, mild swearing, references to fights/stabbing/being killed, food descriptions/eating.

Word count: 2.4k – I am not the only traveler Who has not repaid his debt I’ve been searching for a trail to follow again Take me back to the night we met –

[February, 2015. Los Angeles, CA.]

With a languid roll of his wrist, Dee swirled the peach-colored liquid around his glass for what felt like the hundredth time since he had sat down at the round rickety table. Blame it on his keen intuition for arduous conversations, but he had not managed to settle his nerves since he and his companion had entered the dim and dusty bar, and something about the location they had found themselves in was only lending itself to his growing headache.

It wasn’t a secret that Roman’s family was loaded; Dee knew this for a fact, and yet out of all of the establishments in the city they could have gone to, the man had chosen such a lowkey place for them to meet. Perhaps in his mind the discrete look of the place was appropriate for a supposedly momentous conversation, although whatever grand idea Roman had of a ‘private business discussion’ definitely didn’t match the reality of what was going on in the shady establishment, all of which spoke of illegal activities with the subtlety of a glowing neon sign. From what he had already managed to discern from a quick glance, there were hands dealing under the tables, side-glances from couples locked in suspiciously hushed exchanges, not to mention the laundering scheme this place seemed to operate as a front for, barely even camouflaged under the displeasingly unkempt storefront with furniture that looked like it dated back to the 60′s and the pervasive smell of cigarette smoke to match.

Dee suppressed a grimace as he forced his attention away from surveying the landscape of the bar and back to the man sitting opposite him. By all means, this was the exact kind of place he would choose to hang out in if he were to catch up with some of his old high school friends, and yet being here with Roman Kingsley of all people somehow made him want to reevaluate the decisions that lead him to being in this clearly cursed timeline, because there had to have been a horribly wrong turn made somewhere.

As if sensing himself being at the center of Dee’s thoughts, Roman looked up from where he had been prodding at his unusually soggy plate of nachos (“…I was hungry, though I’m not so sure I am anymore.”), and shot Dee an unguarded twist of a smile. It was the kind of expression Roman clearly wasn’t used to wearing; which was to say that it was less of his usual brand of over-compensated arrogance and more hopeful uncertainty. Dee stared blankly back, being struck with a realization as he took in the figure that was bathed under the terrible lighting of the bar:

‘Ah. One way or another, this guy is going to be the death of me.’

Surprisingly, the thought didn’t perturb him as much as it should have. Sure, being mugged and/or stabbed in the alley out back because he had willingly accompanied this walking hotspot of disaster to one of the more dangerous parts of the city wasn’t exactly ideal, but in all honestly it didn’t feel like it would be much of a surprise for him to meet his end in such a dumb and grisly way. Of course, with his baby snake waiting for him back home he was hardly looking for trouble, and especially not at the expense of somebody he didn’t even send Christmas cards to. Even so, his gut told him that dead or alive, he wouldn’t be walking out of this bar without a semblance of trouble following him; a prospect he wasn’t sure if he found exhilarating or exhausting.

And so there the situation currently was, in an uneasy limbo. With a sigh, he pushed his nagging thoughts to the back of his mind for the moment and took a sip of his drink, finding brief refuge in the sugary film that coated his mouth and the back of his throat.

Roman tracked the glass with his eyes as it was set against the table and quirked his lips in that infuriatingly smug expression only the two of them could truly pull off. “I didn’t take you for a mocktail kind of guy. Lost your edge over the years?”

Dee simply raised an eyebrow in response. It wasn’t a surprise that Roman remembered his delinquent past, what was a surprise was how this was apparently not a determining factor in eliminating Dee as a potential co-worker given the goody-two-shoes friends the other loved to hang around. “What can I say? In my wise age, I’ve learned to value substance over a cheap high. I’d have assumed you’d have shared that viewpoint given our similar tastes for the unconventional, and yet...” He gestured to the very stereotypically masculine pint that sat in front of Roman, not untouched and yet not being attended to either. Roman scowled in response, more at the menu than at him.

“Normally I’d agree with you, but despite what you think, I don’t actually have the money to drop on overcharged garbage like some kind of idiot. I mean, look: the Merlot is $50 here, Dee. $50. For Merlot. That is borderline criminal!”

For a moment, the air in the bar stilled. Dee soon realized that Roman’s voice had gotten a tad too loud and wow he really did not want to get beaten up because this pipsqueak couldn’t figure out what the exchange of dirty money looked like even when it was staring him in the face. Time to move the subject along to something less contentious, because he really did not like the way the dead-eyed look the bartender was giving them.

“Please, you only have yourself to blame for your poor judgement calls. We’re not here to have a lovely evening out though, are we? Let’s just cut to the chase already.”

Roman simmered down with a click of his tongue, pausing to pick up a tortilla chip and eat it, only to look disappointed by the lack of crunch. Nevertheless, as asked, he dropped all pretenses of small talk. 

“You read my text, then? Have you thought your decision though any more?”

There it was, the million dollar question. While he had been acting nonchalant about the matter ever since Roman had first approached him with his offer, the truth was that he had been weighing the pros and cons of this decision for days now, to no end. Remus, that absolute bastard that he was, was probably having a real laugh at his expense right now, knowing fully well the position he had put his old pal in by pointing Roman's attention his way. Perhaps a little payback on Remus’ end was warranted for their less-than-stellar parting conversation, although Dee couldn’t help his ire at his friend (ex-friend? frenemy?) for setting him up for this infuriating no-win scenario. Years ago he, young and foolish, had hoped that Roman would have dropped his inane obsession with the paranormal by college graduation, but given his current predicament it seemed he had underestimated the tenacity of Remus’ brother. Time to test the waters of that commitment, he supposed.

“About the wacky little ghost show you’ve been raving about since the dawn of time? Can’t say you’ve really sold me on it. I am a rather busy guy, you know; I can’t just drop everything for a show pitch I’m not even convinced on.”

This was a slight twist of the truth. He had been between jobs for months, a lack of inspiration and not being able to stand his bosses and coworkers being the reason he just can’t seem to stick to one place. He had long-since given up on his dream of going into show business, so for a long time he had settled on just doing what he could to maintain a living. It wasn’t a fulfilling way to live, but he was surviving, and that was all that mattered.

Nevertheless, Roman was not thrown by the negative response and instead puffed out his chest in a show of indignation. Clearly he would not be taking no for an answer without a fair fight, which likely spelled bad news for how this evening was going to go. “It’s not ‘wacky’, it’s a serious show for serious investigations! I’m really trying to prove the existence of ghosts here.”

“Right…” Dee squinted his eyes skeptically. “And you are aware that I don’t believe in ghosts, yes?”

“Obviously. Did you think I missed the three years of you being a dick about it?”

Ah, memories. Dee didn’t bother to hide his amusement at Roman’s grumbling. “My my, you’re still holding a grudge about that? Here I thought my depiction of Hamlet’s father was enough to wipe the slate clean. Didn’t it please you to see your greatest enemy play one of the spooky creatures you like so much?”

Rather delightfully, frustration gave way and the corners Roman’s eyes crinkled with the beginnings of mirth before he quickly hid the expression away by shoving another chip into his mouth. It was the kind of reaction Dee was still growing used to seeing from their back-and-forths, not quite being sure when their exchanges of teasing remarks had crossed the line into something more friendly. That said, it was certainly not an unpleasant development; in some senses, it felt rather rewarding to catch a glimpse of something less refined behind a curtain of perfectionism, much like seeing the behind-the-scenes of a broadway production. 

“Oh don’t get me wrong, you really did give an excellent performance. I can still remember act one scene five like it was yesterday. 'Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard, a serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark is by a forged process of my death’!” Roman dramatically reenacted the performance, hand pressed to his heart, and Dee preened under the praise.

“Why thank you. The dull lead was quite a letdown, though we certainly outdid ourselves in spite of the poor casting, didn’t we? Still, I can’t say that flattery will convince me to hunt ghosts with you or... whatever it is you were hoping for. The point still stands that it’s not exactly the sort of thing I’ve ever pictured putting on my resume.”

Roman’s smile faltered and he cleared his throat awkwardly. Without the comfort of dancing around their thoughts with friendly banter, things got uncomfortably serious a tad too quickly, it seemed. 

“I get that it’s... not ideal to you, considering how you always had high aspirations for your career, and a webshow is probably too low on the radar for your pompous-self. Heh... To be honest, I’m not sure why Remus thought you’d be a good candidate for the job,” Wow, rude. “But he did, and I’m kind of out of options here.”

Roman paused, the buzz of bar filling the silence between them as he clearly struggled to speak what was on his mind.

“Actually, the more I think about it, I can’t come up with anyone else I’d like to join more than you. You’d be a great host! You’re good at talking to crowds when you want to, you know how to improv, you’re one of the funniest people from our class, and as much as I hate to admit it, I always enjoyed acting with you on stage-”

At some point during Roman’s rant, Dee’s brain short-circuited with the words, and even as he tried to process they just kept on coming, to his absolute befuddlement.

“-And I guess I feel like you’d co- ...Hey, phantom of the opera, are you even listening to me?! I’m pretty much singing your praises here, which let me tell you, is rare for me, and you’re staring off into space! If you’re that disinterested, you should just say so.”

“Sorry. I was paying attention, I just...”

Dee scrunched his eyes shut as he tried to work through what Roman had said. Maybe it shouldn’t be such a shock to hear the compliments coming from someone he regarded as being an equal in terms of talent, yet part of him still screamed at him that it was only empty flattery to sway his decision. Sure enough, while it may be true that his cynicism had never failed him in the past, he still yearned to ignore the knee-jerk judgment and choose the better option, the one which meant that he was considered the first choice for something and his presence was wanted. Unbelievably, even to himself, he found himself tempted, if only by the warmth that came from such a thought. Perhaps if he was without the greater knowledge that he had, he would have jumped at the opportunity in a heartbeat, however the fact still remained that he was tired and worn from years of strife. At this point in his life, self-preservation was the only thing keeping him going, and so the idea of leaving the peaceful bubble he had built up itched like nothing else. But then, his thoughts drifted back to what could happen, of letting down Remus who had obviously entrusted him in this, despite everything they had gone through.

He truly must be growing soft, if he was willingly jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.

(And was that so bad, to try to feel some warmth again?)

Begrudgingly, he opened his eyes to Roman’s concerned face. 

“...Alright. Perhaps flattery does get you some places. With such a compelling argument, how could I possibly say no?” He drawled, as nonchalantly as he could possibly muster.

Already flustered by his decision to agree so readily, he picked up his overly-sugary drink as a means to avoid eye-contact, though when seconds passed with no audible response, his focus still ended up being drawn to the other man for his reaction. Roman’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates and simultaneously filled with joy; despite the muddy brown of the lighting that had washed out his features into a pool of shadows, they looked as if they were sparkling.

Dee felt the wind knocked out of him at having that expression pointed towards him. It seemed like it had been so long since somebody had been brought that much happiness because of something he did. This...wasn’t a terrible feeling, he decided in that moment.

“That wasn’t sarcasm, was it? You really want to join?!” Roman just about yelled, drawing back the eyes of a few of the other patrons. Dee chuckled nervously, wondering how he could get them out of the building as swiftly as possible without causing further ruckus. If they would be working together, the last thing they needed was to get into a fist-fight, after all.

“I do. Please don’t make me regret my decision.”

In return, he was given a beaming smile, one that equally eased his uncertainties and spoke of future trouble.

“You won’t, I promise.”

[mobius-prime]

234. Sonic the Hedgehog #166

DON'T. PANIC. I know. It's back. Don't worry too much though - it only lasts for two issues, so even if you detest this AU with all your heart and soul you only have to deal with it for a couple days. To be perfectly honest, I don't actually find the plot of this installment of Mobius 25 Years Later to be that much more interesting than the previous one. I find everyone to be a little too out of character, for one thing. However, it does at the very least provide a bit of closure to a story that was left wiiide open previously, so there's that.

Mobius 25 Years Later (Part One): Tempus Fugit

Writer: Ian Flynn Pencils: Tracy Yardley Colors: Jason Jensen

Last time on Mobius 25 Years Later, we left off with the timeline seeming to dissolve and rip itself apart while Sonic went back in time to fix the temporal and spatial instabilities of Mobius. Well, he fixed the threat of time coming to an end all right, but in the process somehow caused the timeline to skew wildly from how it was previously. In this new future, Shadow is a brutal and ruthless dictator, worship of Maria as an angelic guardian figure is officially sanctioned by his government, the Chaotix patrol the streets headed by King Shadow's chief enforcer Knuckles, and perhaps most bizarrely of all, Sally is married to Shadow as his queen. I have to note here that no explanation is given at all for how the timeline could have gotten messed up so badly - like, it doesn't really say anything about Sonic destabilizing specific events in the past, he just did something apparently, and stuff got messed up as a result. I'm personally not a fan at all of the idea of Shadow becoming so brutal like this, because it's just so out of character for who he's shown to become in the games (and in the comics coming up in a few issues), but at the very least there's the potential excuse of oh, well, this is a timeline where he didn't discover his true purpose in life and thus got led astray by darker influences or whatever. Regardless, things are very bad, and now Tails is on the scene, trying to figure out a way to fix it.

You see, he actually is able to remember the old timeline due to some kind of protective armband, and knows that this one isn't right. So he decides to go about recruiting some of his old allies to fix things, first starting with Knuckles. He walks in as Knuckles is instructing Lara-Su in her Guardian abilities, and Knuckles, once he realizes why Tails is here, ushers his daughter out grimly so they can talk alone. Tails tries to get Knuckles to listen to him, explaining that he took measures to protect himself, his wife Mina (remember? They got married in this timeline) and their kids from the time shift, and that he knows that everyone who was near the time machine when it freaked out still has memories of the other timeline. This merely pisses Knuckles off for some reason, and he yells at Tails to get out before he arrests him. Tails leaves the room dejectedly, but Lara-Su cheekily tries to cheer him up outside the door, clearly having overheard everything.

I already like this version of Lara-Su way better than the old one. The old one was weirdly whiny and selfish, while this one is immediately more assertive and ready to jump into action. As this is going on, we move to the dungeons beneath "Castle Mobius," where King Shadow is currently carrying out a rather… rough interrogation of Rotor, who's chained up to a wall. Shadow curtly acknowledges Rotor's strength of will in not "cracking" yet (it's not explained what information exactly he's trying to get out of him, but we can assume it relates to the timeline shift), and tells him he knows he will break eventually and leaves - and who is outside the cell to greet him but Lien-Da? She's apparently the one who captured Rotor for him, and she too remembers the old timeline, thanks to Cobar - we finally find out what she did when she confronted Rotor and Cobar back then!

Yeah, really don't like this version of Shadow. The juxtaposition of worshipping Maria as a gentle protective goddess, and Shadow's use of brutal torture tactics and authoritarianism is kind of… bizarre. A Legion mook runs up with information that Lara-Su has joined up with Tails, and Shadow orders Lien-Da to contact Knuckles to conduct an arrest of the two. Meanwhile, the two in question have managed to find Sonic, bedraggled and sitting next to a bunch of trash in a back alley, looking pretty awful. He, of course, is the same Sonic from the old timeline who went back to "fix" everything, and is horrified at how everything has turned out in this version of the future. It's once again worth noting that he sheds a few tears here, especially because this is around the time Sega started interfering more in the comics to make sure things were portrayed to their liking. There's a sketch version of the below page floating around somewhere showing Sonic crying substantially more than he is in the final product, which honestly, I don't know why Sega felt they had to force the artists to tone it back here, because I think if there's any circumstance where a normally cheerful and stoic person might truly lose it, it's losing their two children forever to the abyss of time.

Lara-Su urges the others to get up so they can go defeat King Shadow and save the day, but a sudden blinding light engulfs them. Sure enough, it's Knuckles, backed by what looks like half of Portal's police force, telling the three of them to surrender immediately as they're under arrest for treason…

The Chaotix Connection

Writer: R. Chacon and Ian Flynn Pencils: J. Axer Colors: Jason Jensen

This story is a bit bizarre - for one, it opens with a shot of Knuckles tied up and apparently coming to after being knocked out, only to immediately pull back a full day to show us what led up to this moment. That's a perfectly legitimate storytelling tactic, but it has to be done right for it to work, dammit, and the execution here is mostly just awkward and confusing. And for another, though someone is listed as the letterer for this story, very little of it is actually hand-lettered - the vast majority of it is machine-lettered. Seriously, out of the dozens and dozens of speech bubbles in this one story, which takes up half the issue's page span, only seven are hand-lettered (yes, I counted). I'm really not sure why this would be, nor why they bothered actually having someone letter only seven speech bubbles in the entire story when a computer was apparently doing that job perfectly well, but oh well. Anyway, here's the rundown - yesterday in Station Square, Rouge (sporting her Heroes getup) was snooping around for any juicy information when she got her hands on a nice little tidbit - namely, that Renfield T. Rodent is back. Remember him?

Aw, it's nice to see Sally and Sonic actually joking around with and teasing each other a bit. Things have been so frosty between them for so long, I forgot how nice it is to just see them being sweet and silly. The next day, Renfield's foreman oversees a delivery of slot machines to the new casino while Renfield himself watches from behind a screen, still sporting his capitalist tycoon grin and definitely seeming very shady as he talks to himself about putting on a grand show with this new scheme. The Chaotix and Rouge all arrive at the venue, and Rouge and Julie-Su nearly come to blows when Rouge insinuates that her only reason for coming is to show Knuckles that she's "gone legit." Knuckles breaks up the fight before it begins, and the group is let in early when they bluff to the guards that Renfield is expecting a meeting with them. They agree to split up and search for anything suspicious, checking in every few minutes to make sure none of them goes missing. Knuckles heads off on his own, and soon discovers an elevator that takes him to a secure room where the foreman is discussing the shipment with the help. When he hears Eggman's name mentioned, Knuckles knows this operation is rigged, so he leaps into action and begins to fight everyone present… alone. Seriously, man, couldn't have waited one whole minute to call in your backup? Speaking of the backup, Mighty in particular has decided it's prudent to check the food given what happened last time, while several of the others go for the slot machines as customers begin to file in.

Gotta love Mighty - no time to test anything scientifically, let's just shove potentially poisoned food into our mouths and see if we pass out! Knuckles, upstairs, finishes punching out the mooks and goes for the foreman, but when his fist makes a clanging noise against his nose he realizes that he's one of Eggman's auto-automatons. Things only get worse when said auto-automaton punches back, knocking him clean out. While the foreman ties him up and calls Renfield, Rouge, Vector, and Espio all check the slots, noticing that people seem to be acting weird while playing them. Sure enough, one glance at a screen later, the three of them are hypnotized as well. Knuckles wakes up with Renfield gloating over him, and naturally the rat immediately launches into a villainous monologue about how Eggman is paying him to use his fake slot machines to scan the brains of the patrons, allowing him to turn that data into a blueprint for what basically amounts to a Terminator. In fact, the whole casino is built on top of a factory that will start spitting out robots the moment the scans upload! Suddenly, the writers realize in horror that they only have two more pages to wrap this plot up, and so they go into overdrive figuring out a way to solve it in this limited amount of space.

I love the idea that Mighty just casually crunched up a whole factory and carried it around with him just to prove a point here. The police show up out of nowhere to arrest a fuming Renfield, and Julie-Su and Mighty explain that they knew something was wrong when Knuckles didn't check in, and even more hilariously, apparently on their way up here they just randomly passed the factory and Mighty was like "Yo, that doesn't fit the décor," hence him crunching it up. The president pops in out of the ether to congratulate the Chaotix on a job well done, and as Julie-Su and Rouge bicker some more, the curtain falls on one of the weirdest and most out of place stories we've experienced in some time. Bravo, Romy and Ian, we've officially learned that when you two collaborate, crap gets bizarre!

[yoonguurt]

Mine

Warning:this is a Mafia!au so there is some violence. Just a heads up

Word count:2,083

A/N: this was requested by @jookyunhoevercoupshoe it got way longer than I planned so I made it a post and I'll link it in the request answer. I got a bit into it so, I hope you like it, love!

You love your husband, you really do, but lately something's fishy. He's coming home later than usual, getting more calls that have him leaving in the middle of dinner, and despite asking what was up multiple times, he just pecked your forehead and told you there was nothing to worry about. So, it was time to take matters into your own hands. 

The private investigator you hired wasn't very good at his job. All he could, or would, tell you was that your husband was involved in "shady dealings" whatever that meant. You had tried to ask Jooheon about what little evidence you had, which pretty much amounted to blurry pictures of him in back alleys with some pretty suspicious looking characters. Of course, that only angered him. "Stay out of it, Y/N. Everything I do, I do for your safety." was all he had to say, before yet another forehead peck and a quick exit. Yes, this would be something you would have to find out on your own. 

Following Jooheon may not have been the best idea, but it was the only one you had. So here you were, parked in the shadows of some shady ass shipping dock, spying on your husband. You really did not like that it had come to this. All Jooheon had to do was be upfront with you, but no. Nothing even seemed to be going on, just men standing around with Jooheon front and center along with another man. He looked unlike the man you knew and loved. His big smile with those beautiful dimples was nowhere to be found. In its place, a hardened scowl. Though you couldn't hear him, you could tell he was speaking in rough, deep voice, not the honey tone you were used to. When he suddenly pulled out a gun and pointed at the man opposite of him, your heart seized. Who did you marry? 

You made sure to be home before Jooheon. You needed time to prepare yourself. You needed answers and tonight was the night you would get them. You were in his office when you heard the front door open, you took a deep breath, and waited. When his office door opened, your husband came in and immediately gave you that beautiful smile. It almost made you forget why you were here. Almost. "Hey, baby" he said in his usual saccharine voice and moved to give you a kiss. You quickly dodged, leaving a bewildered look on your husband's face. "Jooheon, we need to talk." was your only reply. 

After hours of discussion, and a bit of fighting, you had finally been told the truth. Your husband, the sweet bubbly man you knew and loved, was the head of the local mafia family. He had between 150 and 200 men beneath him, 6 of those being his most trusted.You learned that while he himself rarely got his hands bloody, he was not above doing so. Still, he insisted that he loved you and would never harm you in any way. You were his whole world, he said. And after a great deal of thought, you believed him. 

The first month with your newfound knowledge went by smoothly. Not much changed between you and Jooheon. You still had dinner every night, sometimes it was interrupted, sometimes he didn't come him until the early morning. The main change was that you had been allowed to attend family parties with him. It had taken quite a while to talk him into allowing that, something about it being unsafe, but you weren't having that. So, you were allowed to attend on your husband's arm. 

The looks you got at these parties made you feel on top of the world. Women looked at you with envy, men looked at you with lust. But no look compared to the look of love you saw when you looked into Jooheon's eyes. Of course, there were people who looked at you with disgust and hate. Your husband was a powerful man at the top of his game, someone was bound to get jealous and have ill will towards him, and you by association. But of course no one would dare try anything, not wanting to deal with the wrath of Lee Jooheon, right? 

Tomorrow was you and Jooheon's anniversary. He bad promised that he would be yours the whole day and you two would do anything you wanted. After some thought, you decided all you wanted was an at home dinner date. Just the two of you, cooking dinner together and just being together. 

As you got ready to go to the grocery store to buy what you needed, one of Jooheon's most trusted came up to you, ready to accompany you. Lately, Jooheon had been pushing for you to have someone with you at all times. Something about a new family trying to gain new ground. You adamantly refused. You were an adult and you could take care of yourself. You very politely told Changkyun that you didn't need him today, much to his displeasure. "Don't worry, Kyunnie. You won't get in trouble. I'll handle Jooheon." you called before closing the door behind you. 

You made your shopping quick, just wanting to get what you needed and get out. You said the cashier, and made your way to your car. As you put your bags in the back, a young woman ran up to you in hysterics, trying to form a sentence. You spent a moment trying to calm her and finally she was able to get the words out. "My son. He's hurt. Please help me." You immediately asked her to take you too him to see what you could do to help. She led you to an alley nearby, and as you looked around for the boy, you felt a pain in the back of your head. Falling to the ground, you turned back to see what hit you. Right before you lost consciousness, the young woman bent down to look you in the eye. "Sorry, doll. Nothing personal, just business."

Changkyun knew Jooheon would have his head if he didn't go with you. He let you get a good lead, then followed. You were already in the store by the time he caught up, so he parked and waited. After about 20 minutes, you still hadn't come out. He had a bad feeling, but he opted to give you 10 more minutes. After 10 minutes came and went, he went inside to look for you, and came back out empty handed. He pulled out his phone, dialed and waited for an answer. "Boss, we have a big problem."

Jooheon wasn't mad, he was furious. He had never been so angry, and though he'd never admit it to his men, he was afraid. The one thing he loved the most, was taken from him and he had no idea where to look. He had given Changkyun a beating for his part. He should have been with you from the beginning. The kid would make it, he'd just be bruised and sore for a while. He had sent his best charmer, Hoseok, to get the security footage of the parking lot from the store. After about an hour, he got a call from Hoseok. "Boss, she walked off with some woman. Want the photo of her?" Jooheon scolded him for even asking, and told him to send it. Once he got the picture, he had his surveillance expert Hyungwon look at it to see if he could place the woman. Hyungwon almost immediately identified her as the girlfriend of the head of the new family in town. Now knowing who he was looking for, he called for his second in command. "Kihyun! Gather Hyunwoo and Minhyuk and let's go! Send Hoseok the location, tell him to meet us there" Getting behind the wheel, he took a deep breath, whispering to himself. "I'm coming, baby"

You woke up to a blast of water hitting your face. Your head was pounding and you had no idea where you were. You tried to move your hands, only to find them tied behind your back, legs tied to the bottom of the chair you were seated in. "Rise and shine, cupcake." came from an unfamiliar voice to your left. Turning your head, neck muscles screaming in pain, you saw a man you didn't recognize. He walked closer to you, giving you the chance to get a good look at him. He was definitely handsome, you'd give him that. You could see the gun on his hip, making it finally click that you were not among friends. "Now, my name is Jackson. I'd rather not hurt a pretty lady like yourself, but I need you to tell me what that husband of yours has planned." he spoke in a voice that seemed too kind to be coming from a man who'd kidnapped you. You knew you should just answer his questions, but you couldn't betray Jooheon like that. Mustering up your courage, you simply spit at his feet. "Ok. I understand why you would do that. One more chance. Tell me what you know, or I will beat it out of you." Sill refusing to resort to betrayal, you looked him in the eyes and replied with a "Fuck. You." Jackson's smile quickly faded. "If that's the way you want this to go, then fine. I think I'll enjoy breaking you, sweetheart." His reply frightened you, but you refused to show it, spitting again before his fist collided with your face. 

After what felt like hours of beatings, your whole body hurt. You were pretty sure a couple of ribs were broken, you had a busted lip, and you were confident in thinking you two black eyes. It hurt to breathe. But not once did you think of telling him anything about Jooheon. You knew your husband would be looking for you. All you had to do was stay determined until he got to you. "Let's try this again. Tell me what I wa-" Jackson started before he was interrupted by a tall, slender man. "Boss. Someone's here." the tall one managed between breaths. Hope bubbled in your chest. Had Jooheon finally arrived? Your thoughts were confirmed when you heard a booming voice "Where's my fucking wife!" 

You could hear gunshots and bodies falling to the ground. All you could do was hope it wasn't any of Jooheon's men. You knew he himself was safe, his voice calling your name. While Jackson was on the other side of the room, you screamed out to your husband as loud as you could manage. Jackson quickly crossed the room, pulled out his gun and pointed it at your head. Before he could pull the trigger, 6 guns were pointed at him. "That is a really bad idea, Wang." Jooheon warned as he made his way around to untie you. 

Untying your hands and feet, he wrapped his arms around you tightly. You whimpered in pain and he immediately loosened his grip. "Baby, can you stand" he asked you, only to have you reply with a shake of your head. He scooped you up into his arms carefully, and began to walk out of the room. Kihyun's voice rang out just as you reached the door, "Boss. What do you want us to do with him?" Jooheon didn't even bother turning around, just ordered his men to shoot. 

Jooheon carefully put you in the back seat of the car. He drove well above the speed limit, wanting to just have you home again. Once he reached your home, he carried you upstairs, helped you undress and ran you a bath. The entire time, he kissed your forehead and apologized and told you how much he loved you. When your bath was finished, he carried you to bed, had Kihyun bring you up some food, and planted himself next to you. 

For the next two months or so, Jooheon never left your side. You had healed a while ago, but he refused to leave you. Your days were filled with cooking together, watching movies, and tickle fights. He still had a family to run, of course, but he let his men handle most of it. He made sure to make you his number one priority. He had almost lost you once, from then on he vowed to make sure that it was something that would never happen again. 

[knamjooned]

ღ min yoongi ღ part of the Soulmate Series

34D 14H 46M 57S. 55S. 40S. The soulclock seemed to be skipping numbers, counting down much faster than the other’s soulclocks were. As it began to skip minutes, Yoongi realized he needed to find you before time ran out.

Pairing: SecuritySpecialist!Yoongi x Photographer!Reader Genre: Soulmate AU / Non-Idol AU / Thriller AU Words: 5.1K Warnings: mention of porn, mention of drugs, cursing, bit of violence, unedited

If you want time you must make it.

Having a drink after work with the guys was a regular occurrence. His boss, Kim Namjoon, shed his CEO persona and turned into your friend you’d known since the two hit puberty. Jeon Jungkook, the young intern Hoseok had to deal with, always seemed to be eager to have fun, at and away from work. Jung Hoseok, the face of the company and CFO, was reluctant to join each time, only because he couldn’t hold his alcohol.

The bartender, Kim Seokjin, knew them well by now, after all the times they’d come into the place. He placed their usual drinks in front of the four men at the bar, grinning as Jungkook showed the soulclock that was on the understand of his wrist.

10D 02H 18M 23S

“It’s almost time. Fuck, what if it’s someone I hate? Or ugly?”

Seokjin snorted as he walked away to deal with another customer.

“The whole point of this soulclock is to point to the perfect person for you, looks and personality,” Namjoon sighed, looking at the youngest as he took a swig from the glass of whiskey. He glanced at his own wrist as he sat down the drink, a thoughtful look on his face. Yoongi glanced at the numbers there, and looked back up at Namjoon’s face with raised eyebrows.

“When did it turn to zero?” He hadn’t said anything to Yoongi, but that was usual. Namjoon was the type to analyze before confirming.

“Last night.” After staying silent for a moment, Namjoon realized the other three were staring at him. A faint flush came to his cheeks as he cleared his throat and straightened his back. “It’s complicated.”

“See?” Jungkook interjected, eyes wide with worry. “He’s not happy about his soulmate!”

“I didn’t say that,” Namjoon corrected. “It’s just… inappropriate.”

“It’s the new assistant,” Hoseok gasped. He grinned, leaning forward curiously. His hands clasped the beer bottle in front of him. 

“That’s hot,” Jungkook commented, sipping at his mug of tap beer. Yoongi slapped his arm, narrowing his eyes at the intern. “What? It’s a well-told story of boss and secretary porn.”

“Shut it, kid,” Namjoon growled. Yoongi smirked as he saw the shy and amused smile on his friend’s face. Namjoon didn’t mean it in a negative way. “And yes, it is my new assistant. We’re going to talk about our situation tomorrow evening.”

Jungkook opened his mouth, but Hoseok spoke before a sound could come out.

“Mind out of the gutter, Kook!” Jungkook, looked away, muttering in annoyance as he gulped at his drink. Hoseok turned back to Namjoon. “It’ll be fine. You own the company, you make the rules.”

“How long have you been with your partner?” Yoongi asked curiously, eyeing Hoseok. 

“About two years. And they are exactly what I want and need,” he answered, looking pointedly at Jungkook. The youngest rolled his eyes with a grin.

Yoongi chuckled as he glanced at his own wrist.

45D 4H 23M 45S

You stared at the photos hanging in the dark room. They were strung above the developing station, where you liked to do it yourself instead of taking it to a professional. The room was barely lit, but the red tone was enough to know the photos you had drying were going to be trouble.

Gulping, you closed your eyes for a moment, hoping this was a freaky dream, but when you opened them, the evidence stared back at you. 

“Fuck,” you murmured, pressing your lips together anxiously. 

You had a few options. One, you could just rip them up and forget you had captured anything while shooting the alleyway. Two, you could head straight to the police with the photos. Third, you could hope no one saw you taking those photos, and still use them for the city photography competition. 

Unfortunately, it was clear the shady men your friend was talking to had noticed something. You had a few shots of him looking straight into the camera. Still, there was a slight chance you were going to be fine.

Your intuition told you otherwise, though. 

“Fuck,” you cursed again.

As you sat down in a chair near the table, you caught a glance of your soulclock. 

41D 10H 05M 12S

Something positive to look forward to, right?

Frowning, Yoongi listened to the report on the TV in the break room. Since Jimin was in the security room keeping an eye on the cameras that watched over the RM Corporations building, Yoongi had decided it was a good time to get a bit to eat. He chewed on his food slowly as the reporter spoke in a confident, factual voice.

“New studies have shown certain soulclocks may not be related to when you meet your destined soulmate. On a rare occurrence, these clocks may relate to the death of your soulmate. Fortunately, it seems to be very rare, with only 5% of the world population estimated to have this. On our screen we have provided the SoulClock Hotline for those with questions or concerns.”

Yoongi found himself looking at his own mark on his wrist. 

34D 20H 02M 44S

Which one did he have? How could you tell? He glanced back at the news, but they had moved on to another report. Yoongi shrugged to himself, going back to eating his lunch. It was rare, so there wasn’t anything to worry about. The seconds ticked down on the mark, the normal action a comfort to him.

After lunch, Yoongi had a meeting with Hoseok and Jungkook, who was only there to be a coffee boy in all honesty. They talked about the cost of updating some security equipment, and the pros and cons of actually doing it. Jungkook listened with earnest, taking notes. Yoongi was actually impressed. The kid seemed to have a hard time concentrating sometimes, but right now he was focused and calm.

After hashing out the details for that project, Yoongi found his way back to the security room, where Jimin was standing and stretching as he kept his eyes on the screens. When he saw Yoongi enter, he straightened and sat back down in the office chair at the desk of screens. Yoongi smiled and nodded as he passed Jimin, heading to his own desk a few feet away. He had a few forms to deal with before doing a few other projects.

After a few moments of silence, Yoongi jumped when Jimin started to talk.

“So did you hear about the new studies about soulclocks?” 

“Mhm,” Yoongi confirmed, eyes still on the papers in front of him. He used a pen to initial and edit some things. 

“Are you worried about it?”

“Not really. It seems to be pretty uncommon.” Yoongi kept working on a few pages, then looked up at Jimin, who was biting his lip and wringing his hands. His eyes were on the screens, but he seemed to be thinking about other things. “Why, are you worried?”

“Nah…” he squeaked, clearing his throat. Yoongi raised his eyebrows at Jimin. “I mean.. a little. There was one story about it that kind of freaks me out.”

“Eyes on the screen,” Yoongi reminded him with a soft chuckle. Jimin straightened once again and gazed at the screen with renewed concentration. Yoongi continued as they did their work. “What’s the story?”

“The clock starts to freak out. It starts to countdown faster than actual time, which tells you your soulmate is going to die, instead of meeting you.”

“It could also mean the fates have decided to push up the meeting time,” Yoongi countered, leaning back in his own office chair, taking a break from reading legal documents.

“True…” Jimin murmured, seeming to relax.

“What’s your clock at?”

“Soon,” Jimin nervously chuckled, holding up his arm.

23H 12M 05S

“I’m sorry.”

You took a deep breath through your nose, letting it out. You still were tense, anger causing you to fist your hands at your side and press your lips together tightly. Your friend stood across from you in your apartment, looking guilty as hell.

“Sorry? Sorry! Why did you go to them, Taehyung? Why didn’t you come to me?”

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m not going to get you involved with my shitty life!”

“Well, looks like I am now!” 

While you seethed, Taehyung kept his eyes on anything but your face. You could see the guilt in his features, the sad eyes and old habit of licking his lips when he did something wrong. 

“Just get rid of those photos. If someone comes to you, you won’t have anything, and nothing will come of it.”

“If someone comes to me? Are you saying they’re looking for me?” 

“Just in case! I don’t know what’s happening at the moment!”

“I love you, Tae, but you knew dealing drugs and being a middle man was going to get you into trouble. You didn’t tell me why you bailed on me for the third time this month. You didn’t tell me anything, so I followed you!”

“You shouldn’t have followed me!” he cried, throwing his hands up in agitation. He put them on his hips as he started to pace. You felt your anger slowly diminishing, turning into worry for your friend.

“Maybe not, but I didn’t know what else to do,” you replied quietly. You took a calming breath, finally relaxing and letting your anger go. “You ignored me everytime I tried to help, you bailed out when we had plans, and then you go down a suspicious alley?”

“I know,” he whispered, closing his eyes and shaking his head sadly. “I’m sorry, I really am. But we need to figure out what to do with these photos.”

“People could get hurt if I don’t turn them into the police.” You felt guilty for even thinking about turning in Taehyung, but this wasn’t just a little mistake. He was selling drugs to kids, and dealing with some scary people.

“People would get hurt if you do turn them into the police. They aren’t gonna like getting snitched on. Even indirectly.” He chewed on his lip nervously.

“Fine.”

“What?” Taehyung’s eyes widened. “You’ll get rid of them?”

“Yeah. I’ll get rid of them. You gotta get out of this, Taehyung. Find a way. Please.” Before you get killed, you thought.

His wrist was burning. Yoongi thought it was a dream at first, but then he woke and realized his wrist really did feel like it was on fire. Hissing, Yoongi looked at his soulclock. Blinking and shaking his head, he once again wondered if he was dreaming. As his sleepy brain began to wake up, Yoongi jumped out of bed with a curse.

“What the fuck?” 

His soulclock was doing something weird. It buzzed with whatever energy had made the soulclock. Yoongi hurried to the kitchen and put it under the kitchen faucet, letting cold water run over it. It soothed the burning enough for Yoongi to start thinking clearly.

Something was wrong. Watching the changing numbers under the running water, Yoongi’s heart beat picked up speed with panic.

34D 14H 46M 57S

34D 14H 46M 10S

34D 12H 12M 42S

33D 19H 29M 02S

Sucking in a breath, he realized with a jolt of alarm that his soulclock was counting down faster than it should, skipping seconds, then hours, then days. Trembling, he turned off the faucet, paced the room for a moment, then got out his cell to call Namjoon.

“Pick up, pick up,” he murmured, trying to steady his breathing.

On the fourth ring, his best friend picked up.

“Yoongi? Is there a problem? It’s Sunday morning.”

“I think they’re going to die.” He didn’t know why he said it like he did, but Yoongi didn’t have to sugar coat his worries with Namjoon. They’d been through too much together to accept that.

“What?” Yoongi heard rustling on the other end and a voice asking what was going on. Shit, he’d interrupted Namjoon’s time with his partner. Namjoon said something about an emergency with Yoongi, then put the phone back close to him. “What’s going on? What are you talking about?”

“My soulclock. It’s freaking out.”

“How so?”

“Counting backwards. Fast.” His heartbeat rapidly as he glanced down at his wrist. It had stopped, but he had lost a lot of time. 

12D 02H 25M 31S

Swallowing, he felt his heart slowing down. Still, his stomach turned with anxiety.

“It stopped. But I lost about three weeks of time.” Yoongi flopped down onto his couch, head falling backward onto the top cousins. 

“Lost time? That’s… impossible,” Namjoon replied. Yoongi could hear his frown.

“What if this is counting down to their death, not us meeting?”

“What if it’s not?”

Yoongi felt himself snort with amusement at remember the conversation he had with Jimin just the other day about this. What if it wasn’t what he thought, what he was panicking about? Just like he had told Jimin, it could be just moving the time of meeting up. It’s not unheard of…

“It’s not common, but it’s not rare, either. Yoongi, I’m sure everything will be fine. It stopped, right?”

“Yeah,” he answered, looking down at his wrist. The numbers were counting down at a normal speed, now. “Sorry, man. I freaked out. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

“Don’t apologize. Remember, I’ve seen you in worse situations. That’s why we’re friends. Also, we were getting up anyway. Want to join us for brunch?

“if your soulmate says it’s okay. I don’t want her to kick my ass.”

You felt confident now that the photos were ripped and thrown in the trash. Taehyung decided to treat you to some food, which was always great since you were the one to constantly feed him. You teased him about it on the way. You were both laughing as you walked into the establishment and sat down at a table.

You two sat at the table near the bar, the evening crowd not quiet there yet. There was at least another hour before it started to get too crowded, which is the perfect time to eat and get a few drinks in. Taehyung wanted to do karaoke, and you supported him completely. You weren’t going to do it, though, and no matter how much he pleaded, it wasn’t going to happen.

A slight tingling sensation, like that when you loose feeling in a limb, centered around your soulclock. Frowning, you looked down, wondering what was happening. It was glowing, but nothing else. It continued to tick down in a normal manner. You stood and walked to the bar, wanting to order one more drink before having to stop to drive. As you stepped up, your shoulder brushed against another’s. You turned to apologize, and stopped as soon as you opened your mouth. 

Meeting his eyes, you wondered what caused your breath to leave your lungs. A slight throbbing, like a heartbeat, started beating at your wrist. Swallowing hard, you turned to face him. He did the same, although his look was more curious than surprised.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” You didn’t know what else to say. Your mouth became dry with nervousness. You cleared your throat as you glanced at your wrist. Frowning, you realized it had skipped a lot of time. It was now down at 0. Completely 0.

“Congrats,’ the man said softly, seeing your wrist. “It seemed you met your soulmate recently.”

“It seems so,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. You stepped closer, then saw his own soulclock on his wrist.

07D 05H 11M 49S

You stopped yourself before you could say anything else. It wasn’t him. His clock would have stopped. He still had a week to meet his soulmate. What if the fates were wrong? What if they were right? That would be cruel, meeting your soulmate but not being able to be with them. You looked back into his soft brown eyes, your heart beating rapidly as he gave you a soft smile.

“Sorry to get in your way. Were you getting a drink?”

“Yeah.. yeah, I was.” You forced a smile on your face and turned around, trying to hide the tears that were in your eyes now.

The day after he felt his mark burn, Yoongi was back at work, doing a quick morning walk around to make sure his security guys didn’t have anything to report. As he did, he thought about you. The mark had tickled when you were in the bar, and had burned pleasantly when you had brushed his shoulder.

Something had stopped you from continuing the conversation, though. Yoongi glanced down at his own clock, and sucked in his breath as he watched it jump once again forward

06D 11H 23M 43S

05D 01H 10M 04S

He had lost another day. Pressing his lips together, he thought about you once again as he made his way back to his office and the security room. It was you, wasn’t it? His clock hadn’t stopped, but it had warmed, which was a common sign of meeting your soulmate. He hadn’t seen yours - he wondered what it had said. Did your mark stop?

“Fuck,” he murmured, causing Jimin to jump at the camera desk. He looked at Yoongi with a frown, but Yoongi waved it off. “I gotta do something. You can handle today, I think.”

As he walked out of RM Corporations, he sent a quick text to Namjoon, telling him he had an emergency and he’d be back later. Yoongi never just walked out, especially without telling Namjoon, so he hoped his boss and friend would let him do what he needed right now. The text that came a few moments later, while Yoongi was getting into his car, confirmed that Namjoon would let him be for now.

Yoongi drove to the bar they had spent time at last night, where he had first spoken to you. It was too early for it to be open, causing Yoongi to curse in frustration as he glared from his car. When he saw Seokjin around the corner, coming out of a side door, he quickly got out and made his way to the bartender.

“Seokjin! Hey, can I talk to you for a moment?”

Seokjin blinked, confused at first with Yoongi being here at this time of the morning, but quickly shook it off and smiled. His confusion turned to curious, cocking his head.

“Yoongi? Sure, what do you need?”

“Do you remember me asking about the woman last night, the one at the bar?”

“The one that ran away? Yeah, why?” He narrowed his eyes. “Look, she seemed upset. Maybe you shouldn’t be looking for her if you made her cry.”

“I didn’t! I swear,” Yoongi quickly said, shaking his head. “I think she’s my soulmate.”

Seokjin let out a huff, thinking about the request. He took a moment to look off into the distance, pursing his lips as he thought. Yoongi stared, taping his foot with impatience as he waited.

“All I know is that she is friends with Taehyung, although I’m not sure why. That kid makes some bad decisions,” Seokjin added, shaking his head sadly.

“Taehyung. Okay. Where can I find him?”

“I think he’ll be around tonight, if I heard correctly.”

Taking a mental note, Yoongi went back to work.

“Sorry, can’t make it Tae,” you sighed into the phone, curled up on your couch with your favorite ice cream and television show. Your had cried yourself to sleep last night, and now you were pathetically spending a day moping on the couch. This soulmate thing was a big deal. You felt like the something had been pulled from your grasp right before you could hold it.

“Are you alright? I know you were upset last night.” You heard him getting out of his car, probably in the parking lot of the bar. He was meeting a friend there, a friend you knew would help him get on the right path.

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine,” you rephrased, not wanting to keep secrets from your best friend. “My.. I met my soulmate last night.” A lump formed in your throat, and you swallowed to try to make it go away.

“That’s…! I mean, what happened?” 

“My clock stopped, but his didn’t.”

“Oh.” Taehyung fell silent on the other end for a moment. “Y/N, are you sure you don’t want me to come over?”

“I’m sure. You need to talk to her. She’ll help you figure some things out.”

“Okay. Text me if you feel worse, promise?”

“Promise.”

Hanging up, you blew out a breath and kept eating your ice cream as another episode started.

Yoongi was just about to confront the man named Taehyung, but he stopped as he overheard the discussion he was having with a woman. A personal confession about addiction and trying to get back on the right path. As he hesitated, the two got up and walked out. He cursed to himself, but didn’t follow them. Instead, he went to the bar and saw Seokjin. 

“Can you give Taehyung a note?”

“Sure…?” The bartender raised an eyebrow, curious but not saying anything else. Yoongi ignored the look and wrote on a napkin.

I need to speak to you about your friend. Her soulmate clock stopped but mine is still going. It’s an emergency. She only has 5 days.

He wrote his name and number on it, then folded it in half. Seokjin took it, not attempting to peek at the note at all. He was a good man, Yoongi knew.

That evening, Yoongi’s worries increased.

01D 00H 23M 21S

You didn’t know what happened. One moment you were getting into your car after work, the parking area lit up with lights that turned on as soon as the sky started to get darker. The next, two pairs of hands grabbed you, one holding you tightly and the other putting a cloth of sort to your mouth. You vaguely remember tumbling into the trunk of a car as your mind went to sleep.

Groggily, you felt yourself waking. You were in a chair, and as your mind began to slowly clear, you realized your arms were handcuffed behind you. Your legs were free, but the four big, scary men surrounding you made any sort of plan dissipate as they glared at you. You gulp, mouth and throat dry. 

“Water,” you whispered hoarsely.

“Right here, love.” The voice wasn’t one you knew, with an English accent coming through. You tilted your head up, seeing a extremely handsome man in his 50s, wearing an expensive suit. He held a class of water with a plain white straw. “Sip slowly. Trent, hold the glass for her, please.”

One of the four bodyguards came toward you and reached for the glass. The obvious leader handed it to the guy. Trent held the glass to your face, and you tentatively sipped slowly. You kept your eyes down as you sipped, taking these quiet moments to clear your mind. Something was familiar about one of the other guards.

“Thank you, Trent. Y/N, is your thirst quenched?” You nodded, trying not to shake with fright. You took a slow, deep breath. You glanced over to the guy who looked familiar. Fuck! It was the guy in the photos! “Alright, now we can get to business.”

You watched the man stroll toward you, casually starting to circle you inside the square made from the bodyguards. When he slipped behind you, out of your vision, you tensed. Nothing happened, though, and he stepped back into your line of sight on the other side of your body. The cool metal of the handcuffs intimidated you further.

Finally, he stopped in front of you. Your eyes rose to his face slowly, your heart beating fast.

“Do you know who I am?”

“No,” you said quietly.

“I didn’t think so. For some reason, it seems you have become involved enough for me to know you.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I run a business, the kind of business that should never be spoken about, even with those that may be trustworthy.” He tilted his head, hands clasped behind his back, studying you. You gulped and forced yourself to keep your head up. “Unfortunately, you are too curious for your own good. Where are the photos?”

“I tore them up and threw them out,” you replied quickly, squeezing your bound hands into fists behind your back and the chair. “Really! Taehyung saw them in the trash!”

“The trash,” the man repeated evenly. “You put them in the trash.”

You nodded vigorously. The man sighed, shaking his head at you, making you feel like you were missing something important. 

“Who has access to your trash?”

You opened your mouth, but shut it. Fuck, he had a point.

Yoongi’s heart pounded in his chest as he looked at his mark. Taehyung stood beside him in the empty apartment, where you lived.

01H 02M 33S

“Shit!” Taehyung cried, pacing the room. Yoongi wanted to punch the guy in the face, but that wasn’t going to help him get to you. He forced himself to keep a calm tone.

“Where would they take someone to interrogate?”

“Fuck. Shit. This is all my fault. Fuck!”

“Hey!” Yoongi cried, grabbing Taehyung by the shoulders. The man stared at him with wide eyes, quieting down. Yoongi glared at him. “Look, you believed me when I showed you my mark, told you that Y/N is in danger. I believe you know exactly where y/n is.”

“Downtown, 132nd and Ernest. Big building, car shop.” Taehyung seemed dazed, voice shaking with large eyes. “Fuck. If y/n’s hurt, it’s all my fault. I fucked up.”

“No shit,” Yoongi growled, pushing Taehyung away and hurrying to his car. It was dark now. He left Taehyung to do whatever he was going to do, breaking a few laws as he drove fast toward the place Taehyung had mentioned. He parked a few  blocks away, running through ideas in his head. 

He realized he had no plan, no back up, no information about this. Yoongi’s eyes fell to the soulclock once again.

45M 12S

Cursing, Yoongi got out of his car and started to take everything in he could see. He was in charge of securing the whole damn Kim Corporations building, he could handle this. He had experience with bad guys even before Namjoon hired him a handful of years ago. Yoongi wasn’t dumb when it came to illegal business and the things bad people do to handle their business.

After looking around for about ten minutes, Yoongi realized there was only one option in the time frame he was given.

“Poor, innocent, bystander. Curiosity killed the cat, it seems.” 

Your cheek hurt from the slap he had given you moments ago, stinging violently as your blinked your eyes to get your vision to sharpen back to normal. You tried not to make too much noise as tears rolled down your cheeks, tasting blood in your mouth. It seemed you had bit the inside of your cheek. The metallic taste made you want to gag, but you didn’t want anymore attention. He probably got off on seeing you suffering.

“if only you had burn the photos. It would have saved you so much pain. Now you’re a loose end I really need to tie up.”

“Please,” you murmured, keeping your eyes to the side and down, lips trembling. The blood in your mouth was building, so you swallowed before you could think about what you were doing. Tears continued to fall. 

“You have no worth to me.” You heard the leader of the gang take a step back, then four sets of feet slowly stepping toward you. “Trent, you and the boys take her to the back. Get rid of her.

Panic seized you whole body, causing you to stiffen in shock, shutting your eyes tightly. Maybe if you closed them long enough, everything would go away, like a dream. You didn’t want to die. You had so much to do, to see, to feel! You let out a choking sob as you waited for hands to do whatever they were going to do to you.

Suddenly, voices came out of nowhere. You opened your eyes. The voices all became a chorus of demands as the thugs that were coming toward you were tackled by men in uniforms and bulletproof vests. Relief flooded your body so quickly that you passed out.

You vaguely felt a presence next to you in a moments before you lost consciousness. Your mark tingled, a warm, comforting burn as you heard someone murmuring your name with heavy concern.

He had saved you. Yoongi had no idea what was going to happen to you if those men had been able to get to you before the police came. He was grateful he had a close relationship with people on the local police force, people who could drop everything and come to the rescue when he called. 

He watched you a few paces away, being looked at by an EMT, sitting on the curb outside the car shop. There were dozens of people around, some officers, some bystanders. Suddenly nervous, Yoongi wasn’t sure how to approach you. He had told them the truth - you were his recently found soulmate, but you had never really interacted before, so you didn’t know him. 

He wondered if the EMT had told you what he said. 

Taking a deep breath, he walked to where you were perched, the EMT nodding at you before stepping back. You had an ice pack on your cheek and a  blanket around your body. The night was only slightly chilly, and Yoongi wondered if you were really cold or if you were still in shock.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” you replied softly. Smiling tiredly, you patting the concrete next to you and gestured for Yoongi to sit there. He did, keeping a bit of space between your bodies. You closed the gap, though. The mark on both your wrists hummed and warmed pleasantly. “You saved me.”

“I got lucky,” Yoongi murmured, flushing a little. 

“What’s your name?” He told you with a chuckle. You replied with your name, then the two of you sat in silence as the people moved around you. 

It was comfortable. Yoongi reached out gently, hesitantly, toward the hand you had laid beside you on the sidewalk. As you both gazed at the stores above, his pinky touched yours. You returned the gesture by sliding your hand under his, putting your palm up, and lacing your fingers with his. 

Yoongi and you shared a glance with shy smiles, willing to enjoy the comfortable silence for a little while longer before moving forward with whatever this was going to be.

[mediioxumate]

|| plotted starter for @edgyearring

Though Shido himself was taken care of, there was really no telling how many of his horrible henchmen were still around, still pulling shady deals, most importantly: still looking for him. Akechi is too proud to change his name, but he takes care to hide himself, to slide under the radar.

Likely, they assume he’s dead, not like he doesn’t assume the same sometimes. With the way he floats between people on the streets, holds down a meaningless job, returns home with take out, or to heat leftovers. Rinse and repeat. It’s a strange adjustment from a life of excitement and luxury, but he realizes at some point, that it’s a welcome change. He’d adopted a stray cat, could finally sit down and read all the books that had lined his shelves, perhaps this existence isn’t quite as meaningless as he’d thought.

At the best of times, he’s wary, but more often than not, he’s extremely paranoid. 

Walking home from work the past few nights, he’s felt... tailed. But every time he looks, there’s no one there. It doesn’t seem like he has any suspicious regulars, no one lurking outside of Untouchable to try to observe him. At first, he assumes it’s Iwai-san’s ex yakuza contacts, some of them do hang around, but none of them bother to be too sneaky, and none have ever followed him past the Shibuya station. 

After two straight weeks of the feeling, he decides to put more to the test, take a different, longer way home. He’s strong and ruthless in a fight, and luckily has retained a gun to keep on him for te worst case scenario. 

He winds through a few alleys, by a shop only a few blocks from his apartment he’s been meaning to check out. The eyes he senses following him never let up, but he still can’t seem to catch a glimpse. It’s irritating. All Akechi wants is to be left alone. While it’s dangerous taking a job with one of Akira’s ex-confidants, as far as he knows, the boy has yet to return to Tokyo, and none of his little friends have any reason to fraternize with the shop owner. 

Fed up, he simply pauses at his front door, practically growling and baring his teeth. “Are you hoping I’ll invite you in for tea?” He says into the darkness. Quirking an eyebrow, he turns, back to his door and arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t typically invite stalkers into my home, but maybe I can make an exception if you show yourself.” His fingers twitch, itching to reach for his gun- but, no. 

No, he’s not killing. Not if he doesn’t have to. Not without reason. 

“Come on, now. Show yourself. I haven’t got all night, and I’m getting quite bored of whatever cat and mouse game you’re getting at.” Akechi’s voice is a drawl, more irritated than fearful.

[cutie1365]

A Kid From Queens Part 8

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Info: CA: Civil War Era. Tony Stark enlists his daughter to find the web slinging spider in Queens.

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: I don’t think there are any? Lmk if I’m wrong and I’ll add it.

A/N: Happy New Year! This is probably the longest chapter I’ve ever written lol, so you’re welcome. Reminder I crave validation so please comment and let me know what you think so I can keep this story going.

Masterlist linked in my bio!

A week had passed since your doctors finally released you to return to the tower. You thought this meant you’d finally get some freedom, but as far as your father was concerned, you were basically on house arrest.

He wouldn’t even let you in the lab, he had Friday lock you out. You were about to go stir crazy. You begged him for days to let you out of the tower, and he finally gave in.

“You can’t keep me cooped up here forever, I’m fine, I’m healing. I promise I’ll partake in no strenuous activities.” You pleaded. You were ready to get onto your knees for your father to consider your request.

“Just coffee?” Tony raised an eyebrow at you. He was always going to be suspicious of you, he knew you well enough by now.

“Just coffee and light shopping.” You swore, giving Tony your best rendition of puppy dog eyes for extra measure.

“Fine, but you’re going incognito.” He pointed towards a pair of sunglasses and a hat on the table.

“Ha! Right, like a hat and sunglasses is ‘incognito’,” You began, but he gave you a warning look, “Fine, fine, incognito.”

You slipped the hat and sunglasses on to please him, and promised once more that you’d be safe.

“I love you, give your father a hug goodbye, I’ve got to go back upstate and I won’t be here when you get back.” Tony spoke and you wrapped your arms around him. You felt him press a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you too.” You muttered, feeling a little guilty.

You slipped out the front doors of the towers, ‘incognito’. Your father was right to be worried. Of course you had other plans than simply coffee and shopping.

Spending the whole week in bed with your laptop had given you some time to research the mayor and Danny Rand. Danny Rand had tried to tell you something before the gala, and now you needed to know what he knew. You’d been tracking his whereabouts all week, so you were pretty sure you’d know where he was going to be at this time.

You found Danny near Rand Industries, as you’d suspected, and pulled him into the alley beside the building. You saw his stance change and something flash over his eyes. He was ready to attack, before you slipped your sunglasses off.

“God Y/N, I could have hurt you.” Danny sighed, taking a step back. You raised your eyebrow, you’ve fought bigger guys than him. Captain America trained you, and maybe Danny said some secret powers, but he didn’t really look like much.

“You were trying to warn me, at the gala.” You slipped your sunglasses on top of your hat, “Did you know what was going to happen?”

“I knew people were trying to get to the family. The mayor’s in deep. Deeper than mafia stuff. I think they’re dealing weapons, I’m not quite sure, but whatever it is it’s not good. I thought maybe they’d target you to hurt them.” Danny explained.

“Me? Why me?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Bad idea with broken ribs. You winced and returned them to your side.

“You do wonders for their public image. Without you no one would really care about them, he’d just be another politician.” Danny explained. So they’d just been using you? For press and publicity?

“How did you know about the mayor?” You asked, changing the subject.

“Because I’m trying to take him down. Are you ok?” Danny asked, pointing to where you were absent mindedly clutching your aching side.

“I’m fine, just some broken ribs and a few other things. Nothing too bad.” You brushed it off like it was nothing. Like you hadn’t just been involved in an attack that could have easily killed you.

“Well it’s a good thing Spiderman showed up. I saw the news footage, it looked like... like you knew him. And you’re a pretty good fighter.” Danny implied.

“I’m the daughter of Iron Man, of course I know how to fight and defend myself.” You tried to change the subject.

“And Spiderman?” He pressed.

“We all have our secrets, Danny.” You sighed, “Do what you have to do concerning the mayor, no one else needs to get hurt because of what he’s doing. Let me know if you need anything, tech, or otherwise. You know where to find me.” You offered to him.

“Thanks for the offer. Get better, and cut all ties with the mayor.” He warned.

“Oh don’t worry, I did. I should get back to the tower before they realize I haven’t just gone out for coffee.” You patted his arm as you turned out of the alley and back onto the street.

The sun began to set as you journeyed back towards the tower. Your mind was racing thinking about whatever these weapons were the mayor was involved with. A red blur landed in front of you, causing you to jump and place your hand over your heart.

“Excuse me ma’am, mind if I escort you home? It’s getting dark out.” The recognizable voice of Peter Parker spoke from behind the mask you painstakingly designed.

“You almost gave me a heart attack.” You breathed out, pulling him into the alley next to you, “Someone could see us.” You warned.

“Here, hold onto me.” Peter spoke, motioning you forward. You carefully wrapped your arms around him, and before you knew it you were flying through the air. Peter had shot a few webs and gotten the two of you up on the roof of the building you were hiding behind.

“What are you doing out? I thought you were under house arrest or something.” Peter asked, the worry was evident in his voice.

“I have my ways, Parker.” You smirked.

“That’s shady.” Peter joked, you tried not to laugh, knowing what it would do to your ribs.

“You’re one to talk,” You quipped.

“What were you up to?” He asked suspiciously.

“Shopping.” You lied.

“I don’t see any shopping bags. I also didn’t know they had stores in the alley next to Rand Industries.” Peter teased.

“Did my father tell you to follow me?” You asked, slightly agitated that he didn’t trust you, but then you remembered that you were indeed lying to him. But he never had to know that.

“Maybe. I was just watching out for you. What were you doing with Danny Rand?” Peter questioned.

“Can we talk about that later?” You asked, the whole ordeal had tired you out, but the thing that got you the most was that you didn’t have answers. You didn’t know why someone would try to kill the mayor, what he was dealing in, and how much at risk that put you.

“Oh uh yeah sorry. Do you want me to swing you home? It’s just a couple rooftops to the tower.” Peter offered and you nodded, latching onto him once more. He swung in and out of buildings, you had your eyes closed most of the time. Mostly because all of the sudden movements were making you nauseous.

Peter placed you gently down on the ground next to the Stark Tower, he was still hanging from his web. You didn’t know how he didn’t get dizzy or anything, swinging, spinning around, hanging upside down.

“Do you want to come up? Dad’s upstate so it’s just me.” You offered.

“Sure sure.” He nodded, you could tell he had a goofy grin underneath that mask.

“Meet me on that balcony, that’s my room, I’ll let you in.” You raised your arm to point to the ledge in question, trying to ignore the pain that shot up your side. “You probably don’t want to walk through the lobby like this.” You placed a hand on his suit.

“I guess you’re right,” Peter laughed, “I’ll see you up there.”

You made your way around to the front of the tower and through the front door. The security guards greeted you, and no doubt were about to update Happy about your return. You entered the elevator and pressed the number for your floor.

You slipped off your hat and sunglasses and placed them on your kitchen island as you passed it, making your way towards your bedroom. Once there, you drew back your curtains slightly to expose the door to the balcony.

As you slipped out into the brisk night air as you saw Peter sitting on the ledge of your balcony, facing the sunset.

“Best view in the city if you ask me.” You say, joining him and admiring the view.

“It’s not bad.” Peter joked, as you slid to sit next to him, turning your body as to keep one leg inside the balcony. You knew Peter would never let you fall, but you really didn’t want the situation to come up.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes watching the sun disappear from view.

“It’s getting cold Pete, we should probably go inside.” you spoke, rubbing your exposed arms. He nodded, silently cursing himself for forgetting he regulated body heat differently than you, ever since he was bitten at least.

Peter followed you inside of your bedroom, and he took a few seconds to look around. After you had closed the door and the curtain, he slipped off his mask. You moved to stand in front of your full length mirror, lifting your shirt slightly to fidget with your bandages.

Peter was still taking in all of your room: it was like a suite at a hotel. Everything matched the color scheme of your kitchen and living room. Very modern, white, clean, and sophisticated, with the occasional pop of color. Your large king sized bed sat upon a slightly raised platform, opposite it hung a tv nearly the size of the one in the living room. He turned to see your desk, large computer, and papers everywhere. This seemed to be the one disorganized place in your whole living area. Peter got a glimpse of the bathroom, with its marble and what appeared to be a rain shower no doubt. He then panned to the last part of the room, consisting of a large mirror leaning in the corner of the room where the walls met.

His eyes were met with you, fidgeting with your bandages in front of it. Pushing the thought of your exposed skin to the back of his mind, he rushed to help you.

“What’s wrong?” He asked quietly.

“It just hurts.” You whined. “I don’t know if it’s too tight or-.”

“Maybe it needs to be readjusted.” Peter suggested, “Here, let me help.”

You looked at Peter for a moment with apprehension. You realized he was probably used to this and more experienced than you were with tending to his injuries after a long night of crime fighting. You searched his face for anything like an ulterior motive, but only saw his genuine concern and want to help. You only saw him, Peter Parker.

You nodded and slipped off your tank top, he then began to unravel the bandage around your ribs and chest. You felt your heart beating slightly faster than normal and hoped he wouldn’t notice.

The more he unraveled the more he saw the large black and purple bruise from where the butt of the gun hit you.

“Holy shit, Y/N, I didn’t know it was this bad.” Peter nearly yelled, stepping back to take it all in.

“It’s fine its just a bruise-” You began to speak as he ran his fingers over it softly, you winced slightly cutting off the end of your sentence. Peter noticed how his touch left little goosebumps in his wake, he pushed that thought to the back of his mind, trying to refocus on the task at hand. He took one last look at your large bruise, hating that he could have saved you from this pain if he had been a little faster.

“I’m gonna rewrap it for you ok? Let me know if it’s too tight.” Peter’s voice broke the silence, as you watched his face, desperately wanting to know what was going on inside his mind.

“Ok.” You tried to say, but it came out barely above a whisper. You held the piece that was over your breast covering you. He began to wrap it gently around you, but tight enough to still serve its purpose.

“Is that better?” He asked, you nodded in response. You had noticed Peter looking at your clock a few times.

“You have patrols soon don’t you?” You asked, reading his body language.

“Yeah but-” Peter admitted, and tried to explain but you cut him off.

“You should go, I know you’ll worry if you don’t.” You smiled lightly.

“I know you’re right, but I want to make sure you’re ok first.” Peter said. You were surprised how easily it seemed he would stay with you instead of going out and being Spider-Man. You never wanted to keep him from that.

“I’ll manage. But... if it’s not too much to ask, could you maybe, come back when you’re done?” You asked nervously. Why were you so nervous? It was just Peter. That’s right, just Peter.

“It will be late but if you want me to I will.” Peter answered quickly.

“I mean, if you’re nearby, I uh- I just haven’t been sleeping, with the pain meds they’ve got me on, and everything else going on and I-, I slept really really well when you were here so I thought maybe. Ya know if I can finally sleep that would be great and if it’s gonna be another sleepless night then at least I’ll have someone to talk to.” You found yourself rambling, now standing in front of Peter, with no shirt on with only your bandage like corset to cover your top half. You must look crazy right now. But the way Peter was looking at you was if he hadn’t even noticed, he looked at you as if you were standing before him in a ball gown.

“I get it, I’ll be here, I promise.” Peter smiled, before he said goodbye, slipped on his mask and headed back outside onto your balcony.

It was maybe 2:30 when  you heard a soft  tapping on your glass. You stood from your bed, clicked off the TV,  and let him in with a smile.

“Hi, how’d it go?”  You smiled, as you locked up the door behind him.

“Good, slow night.” He slipped off his mask before replying.

“I guess the criminal classes enjoy a Friday night off every once in a while.” You joked.

“Seems to be the case,” Peter smiled before asking, “Hey, um, if it’s not too much to ask,  would I be able to shower really quick? It’s just, your room is so nice and clean and smells amazing, and I’ve been on patrol for 6 hours.”

“Oh, of course, of course.” You stuttered, what was wrong with you? You tried to compose yourself while pointing him toward the bathroom, “Everything’s in there, and I can go find you some clothes.”

Peter thanked you before slipping into the bathroom and shutting the door.

You journeyed to the floor above you, stepping into the deafening quiet of what used to be such a lively and joyous space. You could still picture Natasha flirting with Steve  in the kitchen, Bruce hiding in the corner trying to get some peace and quiet before retreating to the lab, wow have things changed.

You entered the first door on the right, stepping into the bare room. You found a bed  that hadn’t been slept in in years, the walls were devoid of any decorations. You pulled open the dresser drawer, thankfully finding some old clothes that were left behind in case their owner needed to return  for  a few nights.

You grabbed one of Cap’s old dri-fit shirts and some sweatpants. Thank god he wears his clothes super tight, you thought jumping back in the elevator to your floor. When you entered your room Peter walked out of your bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

Your jaw almost dropped, but you composed yourself. Jesus, you knew Peter was strong, he was Spider-Man, but boy oh boy you did not expect him to be that... well, swole.

“I um found these, I hope they fit, they were Steve’s.” You finally spoke, hoping he didn’t see you almost drooling.

“Steve?” Peter asked, graciously taking them.

“Rogers.” You answered.

“Oh my god these are Captain America's clothes?” Peter asked, beginning to fangirl- ah there’s the little nerd you know and love. Wait- love? You thought, that was an odd development.

“Yeah I mean they shouldn’t be too big on you he likes to wear his clothes super tight.” You joked, kind of dying on the inside though because Peter was still standing in front of you like that.

“They're great Y/N. Thanks, I’m just gonna go change.” He pointed back towards the bathroom.

“Sure, sure.” You nod.

When Peter comes back out, you’re sitting on your bed, with the TV back on. You were trying to calm yourself from what you had just seen. It really didn’t help that Peter came back out with that  shirt clinging to his arms. God help you.

You patted the bed next to you and he launched up and landed next to you, making you laugh.

“God this is like a cloud.” Peter joked, jumping next to you. You rolled back laughing at this little dork before you, wearing Captain America’s clothes.

“I didn’t know you were 5 Peter Parker.” You teased.

“Hey- I’m 17 almost 18 thank you very much.” He returned.

“Im shocked.” You joked, as he plopped down next to you.

“So... how’s school going?” You asked, Peter replied with a groan and laying back with his arms under his head.

“What does that mean?” You asked with a laugh.

“It’s just- there’s this party Ned and I were invited to tomorrow,  and uh Ned kind of let slip in gym class that I know Spider-Man and they want me to bring him.  So now I don’t know what to do. If I don’t go they’ll think I was lying, but if I show up without him it will be even worse. Spiderman isn’t  a party trick, I don’t know what to do Y/N.” Peter ranted to you.

“You could bring me.” You suggested.

“What?” Peter shot up, and starred at you like you’d just grown a second head.

“If these kids think you’ve never even met my dad, once they see you with me they’ll know you’re for real. I can be your hype man! We can just say Spider-Man was busy.” You explained.

“I don’t want to use you like some kind of arm candy? What would you even get out of this?” Peter asked, moving back until his back was against your headboard.

“Well I would get to go to a high school party. That would be a first for me, considering I was like 10 when I was in high school.” You smirked.

“Are you sure? You can back out anytime.” Peter said.

“It will be fine Pete. You deserve a night off anyway.” You smiled genuinely.

“Maybe you're right.” Peter smiled, hanging his head before shooting it back up and pointing to your ribs, “Are you feeling any better?”

“I took some more pain meds, I should be fine.” You shrugged, “I think some sleep would do me good but I don't know if that’s gonna happen.”

“I think I can help with that.” Peter smirked.

“Oh yeah? And how’s that?” You laughed.

“Just trust me, come here.” He motioned you towards him.

“Just relax.” He said, his voice getting quieter as you laid into his side.

Peter began to run his fingers through your hair, gently playing with it. It was the most relaxing thing you’d ever felt in your life, no five star spa could match the delicate fimble fingers currently guiding their way through your locks. You could  die right here and now and be happy.

Peter wasn’t surprised when he heard your breathing become shallow and consistent, he knew you had drifted off to sleep. After a few minutes he quietly asked Friday to turn off the lights and TV, all the while continuing to rub soothing shapes on your back. You looked so peaceful as he admired your natural beauty, soon he too found himself succumbing to the wave of sleep drifting over him.

Part 9 Coming Soon

Tags in the reblog because tumblr is trash lol.

Link to join my taglist is in my bio, or you can comment or send me a message/ask and I’ll get you added. Just tell me if you want to be on my Permanent Taglist, A Kid from Queens, or Peter Parker/ Tom Holland Taglist, or any combination thereof.

Also check out my other stories like Hello Detective- my Sherlock x Reader fic, Brooklyn- my WW2 era Bucky x Reader fic, and many more found on my masterlist linked in my bio!

[lilacflamesss]

Shattered (Chapter 10)

Smutty Ayahina College AU

Summary: Hinami tries to deal with her sorrows through seeking Ayato out. Ayato can never turn away the girl he loves far more than he should. Two people with unrequited feelings, dealing with them in very different ways. Human AU. (14.9k words)

Warning: This fic contains unhealthy coping mechanisms, heavy sexual content, and plenty of problematic/ dubious things which I absolutely do not condone at all. This is a work of fiction that takes on a more mature, physical take on Ayahina’s relationship as opposed to the typical conventional one. Please feel free not to read this fic if it’s not your cup of tea! Additional trigger warning for stillbirth since this is an add-on to the previous chapters and infidelity. 

A/N: I spent so long debating if I should post this and then I decided, hey, why not? Enjoy! There might be a lot of typos and spelling mistakes in here but please just ignore them because I am way too sleepy to proofread them lmao. Please do reblog this and feel free to leave some comments!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 3.5 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 4.5 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Vday Side Chapter | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11

Preview: 

“It’s going to be okay, Ayato,” she says softly. She pushes him away slightly, just so she can cup his face and stare into his eyes. “It’s going to be okay.”

“It’s not.” He furrows his brows as he speaks. He sighs and closes his eyes. “It’s not going to be okay, Hinami. This is all I’m going to have.”

“That’s not true,” she argues. “I’m sure it’ll get better.”

He pulls away from her, turning away. For a moment, she worries he might leave but instead, he sighs again and sits down, leaning against the cabinet. They’re silent for a moment-- him looking up at the ceiling and her watching him. Ayato shakes his head.

“It won’t. I know it won’t,” he whispers.

If there’s any time for her to say it, she supposes she should say it now. “Ayato, if I say something now, will you promise to take it seriously?”

He shrugs. “I don’t think there’s anything I won’t if it’s from you.”

“If… I say I love you, how will you react?” she murmurs.

He shrugs again, his nonchalant disposition starting to really bother her. “I don’t know.”

“That’s upsetting.”

“Why?”

“Because I kinda do think I like you… in that manner,” she admits.

Normally, she’d be asleep at this time of the day. But she had started a very good book and it’s far too interesting to drop it to go and sleep. In fact, when her phone rang, she’s tempted to ignore it and continue reading. It’s the semester break now and she has no projects or assignments that would require anyone to contact her. She doesn’t even call or text her friends much. Tomoe is rarely on her phone and Hinami doesn’t really have any other friends. She had hung out with Miza and Naki before but she was never really close to them. They were more of Ayato’s friends and when he was with them, she had joined in. But now that Ayato and her barely talked, she doesn’t interact much with them either.

Hinami lets out a sigh. She puts her book down, gets up and walks to her table. Her phone continues to vibrate. The screen is lit and she sees a name that some time ago, would probably have made her very excited. She’s actually surprised that when ‘Big Brother’ continues to flash at her from the screen, she doesn’t hesitate in nervousness, her palms don’t sweat and it doesn’t feel like there’s a change in her heart rate at all. She picks it up casually.

“Hello?”

There are different kinds of sounds aside from Kaneki’s breathing on the other end of the line. She can hear background noises— clinking of glass, laughter and people talking. But she doesn’t hear his voice.

“Big Brother?”

“Touka… is that you?” Kaneki’s voice is soft and haggard.

“No, Big Brother. It’s me, Hinami.”

“Hinami?” he murmurs and for a second, it sounds like he doesn’t recognize the name. A brief moment of silence follows before he coughs and chuckles a little. “Oh! Hinami! What are you doing with Touka’s phone? Did you come over?”

She’s confused for a moment. She checks the phone in the hand. It is hers— Ayato had gotten her that custom-made cover for her birthday in their first year of college. She places it back to her ear. “This is my phone and I’m in my dorm.”

“I am pretty sure I called Touka though,” he sighs. His voice is a little slurred and she’s never heard him like that before.

“Are you drunk, Big Brother?” she asks.

“No, I’m not!”

“You’re drunk, aren’t you? Where are you now?”

“I’m at Miss Itori’s place. Uh… what’s it called again?” He’s louder when he asks for its name, probably directing it at someone else. Whoever is with him, perhaps the Miss Itori he mentioned, answers him, though her voice is too muffled for Hinami to make out. Hinami freezes. A ‘Miss’. He’s at a woman’s place. What does this mean? Who is this Itori anyway? Does Touka know about this?

“Big Brother, where are you again?”

“I told you. I’m at Miss Itori’s place. It’s a bar called Helter Skelter.”

Hinami relaxes. So Miss Itori is probably the owner of the bar he’s at now. She’s still a little suspicious, though. He seems well-acquainted with her. Hinami wonders if Touka knows about this person.

“Big Brother, it’s late. Don’t you think you should be going home—” She’s cut off as she hears some crashing noises, followed by loud voices talking over each other. She tries calling for Kaneki a few times, but there’s no answer. The call continues on without being cut, but Kaneki doesn’t seem to be on the phone anymore.

Her heartbeats might not have picked up just now but now they’re racing. She doesn’t get a response from him at all and she knows that he’s in a shady and probably really dangerous place. Something might have happened to him. Without much hesitation, she takes her coat and pulls it on. As she leaves her dormitory, she pulls up the map on her phone, searching for directions to the place he had mentioned. She wonders if she should inform Touka about it. The last time she had talked to Touka was the day they had gone for lunch together three months ago. After that, she hasn’t seen or heard from her. Touka will probably figure that something is up if she calls her. Hinami really didn’t want to worry Touka, especially not if it turns out to be nothing at all. She’ll check up on Kaneki and then she’ll decide what to do.

Helter Skelter is a bar in a more quiet part of town. It’s a pretty secluded place. She had to walk through an alley before she could arrive at the entrance. The moment she steps into the area, she already dislikes it. She wonders why Kaneki would even be here. It looks like the kind of place someone like Ayato would hang out in, not Kaneki.

A small lump rise in her throat. Thoughts of Ayato continue to surface in her mind, even at the most random of things. She thought that it would be easier to forget him. After that night they had, it felt like she had gotten to understand his side of things before and that she had gotten the closure she didn’t manage to when he broke it off with her the first time. She believed that it would have made it easier for her to forget him, but it didn’t. She couldn’t stop herself from pulling him back when he was about to leave. They did it twice in the morning even though she had promised herself that night was their last. She didn’t want to let him go. She didn’t want to lose him.

But she did and now she has to live with it.

She shakes her head before she pushes the door and slides in. The bar doesn’t seem too crowded and it’s a lot quieter than she had expected it to be. Things did seem pretty wild when Kaneki had called her but now it looks like everything had died down. There were a couple of others seated around the place, but Hinami finds him at the counter immediately, hunched over and holding a half-filled glass in one hand. In front of him, on the other side of the counter, stands a woman. She’s dressed pretty erotically. Even though she’s wearing a dress that Hinami assumes probably falls to the floor, the back is completely bare and her cleavage is emphasised a lot from the low-cutting collar as well. She’s without a doubt beautiful, despite her heavy make-up. Her hair is bright pink. It’s probably dyed, but it’s a colour that seems to suit her a lot.

That woman is probably Miss Itori.

Hinami walks over to Kaneki and sits on the seat beside him, lightly shaking him. “Big Brother!” she hisses.

Kaneki groans but other than that, there’s not much response. Hinami tries again, shaking him harder.

“He drunk quite a lot today,” the woman says. “I’ve never seen you around before. Such a beautiful girl. Are you perhaps the Touka I keep hearing about? I’m Itori. I run this place. Could I get you anything to drink?”

She really does seem close to Kaneki. Hinami finds herself being wary of this woman. Even if there’s nothing suspicious going on between Kaneki and her, this woman herself is just too shady. “No, it’s okay. I’m good. And I’m not Touka.”

“Oh?” Itori seems surprised. “Kaneki has never mentioned another beautiful girl in his life before. Are you perhaps… his side bitch?” There’s a glint in her eyes as she speaks.

Hinami can probably throw up from the thought. “No, he’s my Big Brother.”

“How adorable! I didn’t know he has a little sister,” Itori laughs, clapping her hands together. “The two of you look nothing alike, though.”

She could admit that they’re not related, but somehow, she feels that it might only bring about more complications. Instead, she shrugs and changes the topic. “I really should bring him home now, so if you’d excuse me.” She turns back to him, trying to shake him again.

“That’s easy,” Itori says. Hinami pays no mind to her, though she can see the woman moving about from the corner of her eye. She’s still shaking Kaneki when it happens. One moment, everything is normal and the next, his head is wet and he’s jumping to his feet. Hinami looks over at Itori, who’s holding an empty glass in her hand with a smirk.

“What’s the big deal, Miss Itori?” Kaneki groans aloud. “I’ve had a long day.”  

“Your dear little sister here is trying to take you home but you’re not waking up so I thought I’d help her.”

“Huh?” Kaneki frowns and then looks to Hinami, taking his seat in the process. “Oh, why are you here, Hinami?”

“You called me and then you stopped talking all of a sudden and I heard some weird noises so I was worried and I came to check up on you. Is everything okay?” she asks.

“Everything is fine,” Kaneki insists.

“So what was the noise?”

“I don’t know.”

“Nothing really happened. If you’re the one he was calling just now, some fight was happening and someone happened to bump into him in the process and he turned his attention away from his phone. He must have forgotten about the call,” Itori sighs. It seems like she’s about to talk some more but a middle-aged man appears and sits down three seats away. Itori excuses herself and goes to him instead.

“Come on Big Brother, let’s go home already,” Hinami sighs, tugging on his arm.

“Let me finish this drink first,” he murmurs. She watches him. At the speed in which he’s sipping the drink, it’s going to take a long time. “You can go back first if you want.”

“No, you’re too drunk to be going home by yourself,” Hinami sighs.

“I’m fine. I’m not that drunk.”

“You were asleep when I came in,” she points out.

“I had a long day at work and I came here for more information. I’m not so drunk that I cannot return home on my own, Hinami,” he says.

“Drunk people do stupid things. You’re not fine.”

“That sounds like experience,” Kaneki chuckles. “Didn’t think you were the type to drink. What happened?”

“It was only once,” Hinami admits, turning away from him. She hesitates before she speaks again. She’d rather not tell him about this, but if Touka knew what was going on between her and Ayato, she won’t be surprised if Kaneki does too. Maybe she might get something out of being honest with him as well. Her feelings for Kaneki aside, it’s also true that she misses the time she was able to confide in him about everything, back when they were still close and he really felt like an older brother. Siblings confide in each other a lot, don’t they? It’s the impression she got from the books she’s read before. “I lost my virginity.”

Kaneki’s silent for a moment. He takes a sip of his drink and places it down before he starts to rub his temples. There’s a slight grimace on his face. “Touka is right. You’re not a little kid anymore. I need to stop thinking that way,” he sighs.

“What do you mean?”

There’s another moment of silence from him as he stares at his glass, rubbing the sides with his thumb. His face seems thoughtful. Perhaps he’s remembering the conversation he and Touka had when she had told him that. He places it on the countertop, crosses his arms and lets out a sigh.

“You and Ayato… when Touka told me the kind of relationship the two of you have, I didn’t like it at all,” Kaneki admits. Hinami feels her cheeks heat up immediately. She never wanted Kaneki to find out about this, but she had never told Touka to keep it a secret from him either.

“Big Brother, about that,” she says quickly, “we’re not doing it anymore.”

“Yes, but you’ve already done it, haven’t you?” he laughs. “You’re already over 20. You’re an adult now. Even though to me you’ll always be that little girl I had to look after at one point, I have to move on from that thought and accept that you’re all grown up.”

“Is that so?” Her cheeks are probably still red. Yet, this embarrassment doesn’t feel like those in the past which had her timid and sheepish around Kaneki. It feels like Kaneki is doting on her too much and Hinami simply has no idea how to deal with all the attention he’s giving her. She really has changed after all.

“Ayato is…” Kaneki pauses to take a sip and then stare blankly at a wall for a second or two before continuing, “Ayato and I have our differences. Things have happened in the past that can’t be undone. I don’t think I will ever forget all the pain he has put Touka through and he definitely will never forget what I did to him. Even then, he’s really worried both Touka and I a lot the past few years. I tried my best to look for him and with my resources and my job, I could, but Touka wanted to give him space so I had left it be. Still, she continued to worry about him like the caring big sister she is.”

Kaneki chuckles to himself and takes another sip. It feels weird sitting with him and talking to him about this of all things. Hinami doesn’t know how exactly to take all this. She remains silent, not knowing what to say. She’s supposed to move on from Ayato, but here she is talking about him and thinking about him again.

Just like every single day since they’ve separated.

“Despite all that happened,” Kaneki continues, “he’s a good person deep down, Hinami. I know he’ll take care of you so please take care of him too. The two of you suit each other.”

And now, her heart starts to race and it’s almost hard to breathe. The place is well-ventilated and it is far from being crowded and stuff. But even then, it’s suffocating. Kaneki’s words hang in the back of her mind like an added burden. The two of you suit each other. She feels like choking. She feels like being honest. No. No, we don’t suit each other. She can’t suit him, especially not after how much of an idiot she had been around him and how much she had unknowingly done to hurt him.

“We’re not together anymore,” she admits.

“Huh?” There’s genuine surprise in his voice as he turns and looks at her. Hinami wonders if Touka had told him about this too. Maybe he’d forgotten, or maybe Touka really didn’t. Either way, he seems completely taken aback and Hinami can see it in his eyes that he doesn’t believe her.

“We stopped doing that. We promised to stay on as friends but we barely spoke after that unless we really need to. It’s awkward being around him. I can’t even look him in the eyes when we pass each other in hallways,” she sighs.

“You two broke up?”

“Didn’t Big Sister tell you?”

Kaneki frowns. “Touka? She didn’t tell me anything.”

“Big Sister told us the kind of relationship we had wasn’t healthy and she’s right. We’ve only been using each other and it just became too complicated for either of us to bear,” Hinami says. “I shouldn’t have done it. Because Ayato was in love with me, maybe he really wanted it but I was never in love with him so I should have objected to it.”

Kaneki’s frown doesn’t falter. He simply stares at her for a long while before speaking. “I think you’re misunderstanding a lot of things.”

It looks like she’s getting herself into another lecture. First with Touka and now with Kaneki.

“Like what?” Hinami asks.

“Well for starters, are you sure you’re really not in love with him?”

It’s almost instinct for her to deny any attraction to Ayato, especially when she’s talking to Kaneki. But she hesitates. The truth is, she still doesn’t know what kind of feelings she has for him. He’s important to her. Living without him right now makes her feel empty. She still longs to touch him again despite the long night they had shared with each other before separating.

Kaneki watches her for a moment, but it seems like her silence gave him the answer he needed. He turns away and takes another drink. This time, he chugs the remaining liquid down, finishing it all in one go, before slamming the cup on the countertop.

“You’re still not all that grown up after all,” he muses.

“Big Brother?”

“It’s cute how lost and confused you are right now,” Kaneki chuckles. “But listen to me, Hinami, you are in love with him.”

This time, her instincts take over. “No, Big Brother, I definitely am not in love with him! Ayato isn’t even my type and I’m not really into hot guys either. The one I love is you and—” She stops, cutting herself off immediately. But it’s too late by then. She’s said it and Kaneki clearly heard it.

It’s all over now. He found out. They won’t be able to keep this relationship any longer. It’s going to be too awkward. Maybe he might even find her strange and creepy, to fall for the older brother figure in her life. Maybe he’s going to be warier around her now. Maybe he’s going to cut her off completely. She doesn’t want that— not at all.

Ayato’s already gone. She doesn’t want anyone else to leave.

She expected a weird expression on Kaneki’s face but when she gets the courage to look up at him, he only seems thoughtful. He doesn’t even look shocked. In fact, he’d seem more surprised when she said she wasn’t in love with Ayato.

“Big Brother, about that—”

“Hinami,” he cuts in, sighing softly. His voice is soft and gentle, just like the Big Brother she had always known and loved. “You’re not in love with me.”  

“No, Big Brother, I was— I am. My feelings for you are real,” she says. She can’t bear to look at him. It’s too embarrassing. She’s terrified. She doesn’t know what this would mean for them. She doesn’t know how he’s going to handle it. “I know this might come as a big shock but I hope this doesn’t change anything about us. I won’t come between you and Touka or—”

“It’s not really a shock, not right now at least,” Kaneki interrupts again. “Touka had told me a while back that she suspects you liked me and well, it was a shock back then. Maybe you might have those feelings for me at one point and maybe they were real back then but I know for a fact that it’s not the case now.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you remember that rainy night when Ayato came over to our place? You had thought something happened to him and you came here too, right?”

Of course, she remembers that day. It was the day that changed everything.

“Yes.”

“Do you remember what happened when you entered my place?” Kaneki asks.

She takes a moment to think hard and she realises she doesn’t. She’d been a mess at that point. She was so worried that she hadn’t cared about anything but Ayato. She was trying her best to look for him. Nothing else registered in her mind except that she had to find him and she had to make sure he’s safe. She can’t remember anything, aside from finding Ayato in the living room and pulling him into a heated make-out session. She wonders if Kaneki was talking about that. He had caught them after all.

“That was… I thought he was going to do something to himself and I was worried. I lost myself in the worry and kissed him and then things started getting more heated and that’s all!” Her voice gets muffled the more she speaks. It’s too embarrassing admitting all these to Kaneki, even though she knows he saw it all.

“Not that,” Kaneki sighs with a slight annoyance lingering in his eyes. “I mean when you first stepped in. You couldn’t be bothered to give me a second glance, you were not listening to what I was saying and you pushed me away a couple of times. It’s like you were possessed or something. All the time I was holding you, you were trying to pull away from me. It’s quite hard for me to believe you’re in love with me when you acted like that.”

“I was worried, Big Brother.” She doesn’t know why she’s arguing with him. What’s the point of continuing this conversation? What does it even matter who she likes? Kaneki is married and she has no chance with him. Ayato doesn’t want her anymore— he shouldn’t.

“In my line of work, I’ve seen a lot of worried people. I can tell from your eyes. You weren’t worried about any random friend. There’s something different about him— something special,” Kaneki says.

Kaneki’s words are so cheesy and absurd. Hinami knows it must be the alcohol talking. She shouldn’t take any of this seriously. She hopes he doesn’t remember this conversation when he wakes up the next day. She knows that she’s the kind to forget whatever had happened when she’s drunk. Till now, she can’t recall the first time she slept with Ayato. He’s able to remember it so he’d told her about it, but since she can’t remember, the experience still feels foreign, like she’s watching a scene from the lenses of a third party.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she huffs. “You’re too drunk.”

“Drunk or not, I’m not blind and I wasn’t drunk then,” Kaneki argues. “Hinami, listen, when I saw you the other day, I realised that you’d do anything for him without even realising it.”

“He’s just a good friend, Big Brother. Why can’t I be this dedicated to a friend? He still is important to me,” she insists.

“Why are you so desperate not to be in love with him?” Kaneki asks, genuinely interested. He scoots closer to her and raises an eyebrow. “Won’t it be easier if you really are in love with him? That complicated and weird relationship you had won’t be complicated anymore, will it?”

She wonders why herself. She remains silent, thinking about it. She’s yet to come to an answer when she feels Kaneki shifting closer and she turns to see his face merely inches away from hers. He’s close enough for her to feel his breath on her, for her to see the minute details of his face and for her to bask in the complete attention he’s giving her. Kaneki has never looked at her like this before and he’s never been this close to her before. This is everything she’s ever wanted.

Or so she thought.

“Big Brother?”

“Can I ask you a question?” he asks slowly, voice deep as he takes his time to articulate every word. He sounds… sexy.

She forces the lump down her throat. Her palms are starting to sweat a lot. “What is it, Big Brother?”

“If I’m not married right now, what will you do?”

Her eyes go wide at this. Kaneki’s close enough for her to see herself reflected in his eyes. She looks like a total idiot-- confused and somewhat flustered. She considers his question, genuinely pondering over it. If he’s not married right now, she can do whatever she wants. If he’s not married, they won’t be cheating or betraying anyone. If he’s not married, there’s nothing stopping her from getting what she wants.

If I can’t have you, then I’ll have to live with it.

She feels suffocated. Her eyes are burning.

One day, someone amazing will come into your life. They’ll sweep you off your feet and they’ll love you deeply as well.

She feels like crying.

That person will make you forget all about Kaneki.

Her stomach churns. She feels like throwing up.

When they come, trust me, you will be happy and you’ll never be alone again.

This is everything she ever wanted, right? Even as she keeps reciting it in her head, it hurts all over. Her hand moves to her chest, clutching her top.

So even if it might be hard, you have to stay strong and wait till that person comes, okay?

She made a promise to him.

Ayato…

“No, I--”

Kaneki looks away and she stops. He raises his head. His face lights up, as if he recognises someone from behind her. “Oh, Ayato?”

Hinami freezes. He’s right behind her. God knows how long he’s been there. Kaneki had been watching her. He wouldn’t have noticed it either if Ayato had been there earlier on. He might have seen them; he might have seen them being so close. She can’t even start to imagine how it’ll feel for him to see her and Kaneki sitting this close, looking into each other’s eyes. He might get the wrong idea.

He might think something is going on.

She doesn’t want him to think that way at all.

“Ayato! This isn’t what it looks like!” She’s up on her feet, screaming as she turns around. Only, she doesn’t see Ayato. The only person before her is the old man sitting a few seats down, who’s too drunk to pay any mind to her, and Itori who was serving him. Itori looks over at her and raises an eyebrow and Hinami turns away immediately, glaring at Kaneki. Her heart is still racing in her chest. She’s breathing hard. Sitting in silence now, Hinami realises just how unsettled she had gotten from that small incident. Kaneki, on the other hand, is sitting upright and watching her with a victorious expression.

“Big Brother, what was that?” she hisses.

“You got really worked up over him,” Kaneki muses.

“I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea! What if he tells Touka about it?” Hinami cries out. Kaneki raises his eyebrow at her in complete disbelief and he’s right to feel that way, she supposes. Touka hadn’t crossed her mind at all. It wasn’t the thought of Touka that had prompted her to say something. It was the thought of Ayato seeing them and getting the wrong idea. Somehow, for some reason, Hinami hadn’t wanted Ayato to think that there’s something going on between her and Kaneki.

What is this feeling?

“Well whatever you say,” Kaneki sighs. He gets up, slamming a couple of notes onto the countertop. “I should go home now. Touka would probably still be up waiting for me.”

He sways as he walks and Hinami knows that she really shouldn’t let him go off on his own, even if he isn’t driving. She gets up and follows after him.

“I’m coming with you. I’ll send you home,” she says.

“All the way home?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah but he is--” Kaneki pauses, frowning for a moment before he smiles and nods. “Okay. Thanks, Hinami!”

“This is boring,” Ayato says, amidst his yawn. Beside him, Touka nods in agreement. Despite their boredom though, both siblings continue to watch the action movie playing on the tv. Ayato has no idea what’s going on anymore. The plot was lost to him halfway through the movie. The actors and actresses are pretty good looking but there’s only so long before he starts losing interest in watching hot people do the same stunts over and over again. His mouth itches for a stick but he’s made a promise to himself not to smoke in Touka’s house. “Sis, why aren’t we in bed again?”

“You can go to sleep if you want to. I’m waiting for Kaneki. I have no idea what that idiot is up to so late in the day,” Touka says flatly, eyes still glued to the screen. Even though she’s looking in the direction of the television, she looks preoccupied. Something must be bothering her.

“What’s so special about the gem they’re protecting, again?” he asks.

Touka shrugs. “I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Then what were you doing?”

“I was thinking about stuff,” Touka admits.

“Stuff?”

“You, mainly.” He looks over at her. Even though she had started talking about him, she’s still not looking at him. The two of them are silent for a short moment before Touka sighs and slumps further in her seat. “How are you doing?”

He knows where this is going the moment she asks him that question but he chooses to feign innocence. “I’m fine.”

“I find that hard to believe when you keep coming here to sleep over almost every night,” Touka points out.

“You want me to come home more, don’t you?”

“I do and I’m really glad you do come back frequently,” Touka says, though her voice betrays her bitterness. She turns and looks at him, frowning. “Why don’t you just move back in here then? You’re wasting money on rent.”

“Not a chance,” he scoffs.

“Why?”

“Why? Because…” Ayato pauses. He had immediately discarded the idea of moving in; it had been almost instinctive. It would be financially easier on him if he simply moved back home. He and Touka aren’t on bad terms anymore so there’s nothing keeping him apart. He had broken up with Oohashi and she had left the place, which meant he’s just alone in there. Hinami and him are supposed to remain as friends, but she still keeps her distance from him. She’s not living with him anymore.

But what if she comes back?

He brings his knees up onto the couch and hugs them tightly, eyes returning to the tv screen. There’s nothing going on much in the film now. The main characters are having a heated, intimate moment after narrowly escaping danger with their lives— a very generic and boring scene.

“I need space for my fishes,” he says flatly after a long time of silence. Touka’s sigh comes immediately. Glancing at her from the corner of his eyes, she sees her shaking his head.

“There’s enough space here for your fish tanks,” Touka says.

“Fine. I can’t smoke in here with Ichika around,” he snaps.

Touka frowns. “Then you can just drop the habit entirely.”

“Never happening.”

“You could do it outside the house. No one would have a problem with that,” Touka points out. He falls silent again, trying to think up another excuse. When he’s silent, Touka smirks and continues, “You worried that you won’t have the privacy to bring girls home or something?”

“No,” Ayato snorts. “I don’t even bring any home.”

“Sure you don’t.” Touka doesn’t sound like she believes him and she would be right on that aspect. He does bring girls home, but it’s never a frequent thing. Aside from Hinami, there were only two others times this year and they were with the same girl, whom he’s very sure isn’t going to appear before him anymore.

“Maybe I should consider moving,” he relents. Maybe it’s for the best.

“What if Hinami comes back then? You gonna ask her to live here too?”

He tries his best not to react much, but his body language must have given more away than he intended it to. When he turns to Touka, she’s smirking at him victoriously. He can’t help the way his throat tightens up or the way his heartbeat picks up when she mentioned Hinami. He doesn’t have an idea what kind of expression he has on right now. But even without him saying anything, Touka has it all figured out.

He could really use a stick now.

“She won’t come back,” he says. She shouldn’t. He shouldn’t let her.  

“You sound really disappointed,” Touka chuckles. “I didn’t tell you about this at all but a while back, I met Hinami. We talked a lot. I got to know her better.”

“I know. She told me.”

“She did? I thought you guys weren’t talking anymore.”

“I met her the day after to pass some of her work to her. We talked a bit,” he recounts. “Hinami told me that you told her everything, even the things I don’t want her knowing. Why did you do that?”

“I wanted her to know. It isn’t fair that she only knows half the story,” Touka says it frankly. He knows from her tone that no matter what he tries to say or do, Touka won’t change her mind. To her, this is the right thing.

“She got hurt by it.”

“Knowing that we were hiding stuff from her also hurts her. At least with this information, she’s given the chance to come to terms with it herself and move on afterwards.”

“I hope she gets over it quickly,” he murmurs. “I don’t want her being held back by this.”

“Really? You don’t want it at all?” Touka snickers. “The thought doesn’t appeal to you at all? Hinami thinking about you every day, every moment of her life? Don’t you want to be that important to her as well? Oh, you’re turning red.”

His cheeks are burning indeed. He feels terrible about it but Touka isn’t completely wrong. It never used to matter to him what kind of relationship they had as long as he could be close to her. Maybe he really was acting selfishly all along. Sometimes he finds himself wondering: was everything really about making her feel better or was it about making himself feel better? What does it matter how she feels if he could sleep with her? He can’t be her boyfriend but he had her in bed, he was her first and he was the one she’s only ever been with for now. Hinami’s a popular girl and a lot of guys would die for the chance to do anything with her; but it’s only Ayato who’s been able to touch her, kiss her and fuck her almost every night when they were together. It was a good arrangement for him. He had nothing to lose.

No.

He shakes his head. No. That isn’t it. That’s never been it. He doesn’t want to think that way, not even to comfort himself.

He doesn’t care about those other guys. It wasn’t supposed to be about him. It was supposed to be about her. It was supposed to be about making her feel better. Just thinking about all this is making him feel really sick. It’s too tiring to think about it. He doesn’t have the energy to do it. Maybe if he could smoke something now it would be good. Perhaps he should head back to his apartment that night instead of staying here. Touka might be fine with him smoking on the porch, but he doesn’t have any cigarettes with him. He had made a vow to himself that Ichika should never see him with them. He doesn’t even know why he did that. Pretend as he might, the fact still remains that he’s probably the worst person she’s associated with right now.

“Ayato.” He turns to his sister when he hears her voice. Touka isn’t smiling anymore. Her face is more serious now. Her brows are furrowed. She’s leaning towards him a little. “Hey, I was just teasing you. Ayato? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” It’s obvious from his tone that it’s a lie but Ayato couldn’t care much about it. He’s with Touka. He has nothing to hide from her.

“You know, I’m actually glad I had that talk with Hinami,” Touka admits with a sigh. She scoots over to him so they’re now seated beside each other, arms touching. “We talked about a lot things. She told me stuff about you I didn’t know as well.”

“Like what?” Ayato can’t think of something about him that Hinami would know which Touka didn’t. Hinami doesn’t know anything about him. He’s never told her anything about himself. He never wanted to worry her with his problems, especially when she has her own issues to deal with.

“You know, about Dad.” Touka’s a little hesitant as she speaks. Their father is still a sore topic. Even when they had made up, she hadn’t brought it up and neither did Ayato. He was the reason they both fell out completely in the first place. As much as he hadn’t confessed out loud, Ayato is happy to be reunited with his family. He doesn’t want them to fight again. Bringing up their father was too much of a risk. But here Touka is mentioning him. Ayato isn’t sure if he should keep the conversation going or end it before things got bad. Touka doesn’t end up giving him a choice though. She simply continues talking. “It feels a little weird saying this but, I always thought it was my fault, you know. If I hadn’t told him about your accident, maybe he’d still be here. If I hadn’t said it over the phone, maybe it wouldn’t have been that big of a shock. Maybe I could have done things differently. If I hadn’t fallen for Kaneki—”

“Don’t,” he cuts in. “None of those are your fault, especially not the last one. Kaneki is… good for you.”

He sees a small smile surfacing on her face. “Yes, he really is good for me. He’s so important to me, you know? I’m happy I met him. I’m happy to be married to him. I can never ask for a better husband. But when I’m missing Dad I sometimes find myself wondering if he’d still be around had Kaneki and I not gotten together. If Kaneki wasn’t there with us, the accident wouldn’t have happened. Dad wouldn’t be dead. Maybe… I should have gone there myself, without bothering Kaneki. Or if I hadn’t only thought about myself. Or—”

“If I hadn’t gotten into a fight with those boys, you wouldn’t have had to come to fetch me. If I hadn’t been an asshole and picked a fight with Kaneki, he wouldn’t have pushed me. In the first place, if I hadn’t caused Dad so much stress in the beginning, his health might have been better. There are so many reasons all those things happened, Sis, and when you look at the chain of events, there’s nothing suggesting that you were the cause of it,” he says.

“So Hinami was right,” Touka murmurs. “You do blame yourself for it.”

It sounds pathetic when Touka says it like that. Ayato scowls and turns away from her. “It’s not that. I don’t blame myself at all. I’m just saying that if you want to find the cause of the accident, it’ll be me so you don’t have anything to blame yourself for.”

“It’s not your fault, Ayato.”

“It’s not yours, Touka.”

Touka laughs a little. It’s easy for them to say such things. Telling the other that they’re not at fault isn’t hard at all. But admitting that they themselves hadn’t done anything wrong would be harder, especially after three years of punishing themselves for it. It’s been a while since their father had died, but neither had moved on from this tragedy, simply clinging onto whoever they had left by their sides after it all went downhill— Touka to Kaneki; him to Hinami. They hadn’t had each other when they needed each other the most. But now, maybe they could make amends.

“I hadn’t been to Dad’s grave since the time you brought me after I got discharged from the hospital,” Ayato admits.

“I go there every Sunday,” Touka says.

“Then, is it okay if I come along as well?”

Touka smiles again. “Sure. I’ll be happy to have some company.”

He’s on the verge of dozing off when he hears the doorbell. Touka gets up and starts heading over. It’s probably Kaneki. She had been up waiting for him anyway. Touka hadn’t said anything about it but Ayato could tell that it’s gotten late enough that she was starting to worry about him.

Ayato picks up the remote control and starts changing the channels. There’s really nothing on the tv. Everything is such a bore. He hears voices in the background but he doesn’t pay much attention to it. Touka seems to be annoyed with something. Kaneki must have been out doing something stupid and Touka probably feels stupid for worrying about him. The thought puts a small smirk on his face.

And then he freezes, right as he hears a familiar voice.

Ayato’s throat clenches up. He’s staring right at the tv but nothing on it seems to register in his mind. He’s too focused on that voice— Hinami’s voice. Why is she here? Why is she coming back with Kaneki? What were the two of them up to so late in the night? His mind jumps straight into the worst possible solutions, images that make him want to throw up surfacing in his mind.

No. Kaneki would never do that. He’s too loyal to Touka for anything to happen. He might not get along with his brother-in-law, but Ayato knows that he can at least trust Kaneki when it comes to this.

He hears footsteps and he gets up, walking forward a little. He stops the moment Touka and Kaneki come into sight.

“I don’t know why I wait up for you sometimes,” Touka scoffs, marching on ahead as Kaneki trails after behind her.

“I’m sorry, Touka. Listen to me. I promise you I wasn’t out drinking! I went to see Miss Itori for some information and she offered me some drinks and that’s about it.”

Their petty argument over that continues as Touka heads towards her bedroom and Kaneki follows after her. He can’t hear them the moment the door slams shut but he’s sure that they’ll make up in a matter of minutes like they always do. Kaneki and Touka argue over the silliest of things, but he supposes that is what makes them such a good couple in the first place. No matter what the argument is, Ayato knows that they will never fall apart and they know that too.

“A-Ayato?” He hears that voice again, this time in a loud, sharp gasp.

Here he goes. He turns his head towards it and she comes into view. Hinami is staring at him in disbelief. Her fists clench harder around the strap of her small bag. She looks so pale-- like she’s seen a ghost.

“Hinami,” he greets. He tries to keep his voice as steady as possible but he still sounds like he’s gotten pins in his throat. He wants to pretend he doesn’t care about her— he shouldn’t anymore— but just seeing her face is enough to send him spiralling down into the depths.

He’s really a hopeless case, huh?

Hinami stares at him for a couple of heartbeats, before her eyes widen and she turns away. Her face reddens. “W-what are you doing here?” she asks quickly.

What a ridiculous question. This is his sister’s place. This is his home. There’s nothing weird about him being here. It’s weird that she’s here. But instead of pointing that out, he simply shrugs. “I wanted to see my niece so I decided to come over and it got late so I’m staying the night.” That’s a lie. But there’s no way he’s going to admit to Hinami that he couldn’t bear staying in a place that reminded him so much of her, that he felt it would be easier to get over her if he surrounded himself with other people rather than live in silence with nothing but cigarettes and alcohol to distract him from his own thoughts and memories.

“I see,” she murmurs. She fiddles with her bag, still refusing to look at him. Her hair falls forward and he can’t see her face any longer. He can’t tell if she’s still blushing. Probably not. Even if she is, he shouldn’t think too much about it. She’s likely just embarrassed. Nothing more.

“What are you doing here?” he asks. He’s stupid. He doesn’t know why he’s continuing the conversation. He shouldn’t do this. He should just walk away right now and pretend she isn’t here.

“Big Brother was drunk so I thought it would be better if I escorted him back home,” she admits.

“Oh, so you were with Kaneki all the while, huh?”

Hinami stiffens and she turns to him immediately, her fingers grasping her bag strap so hard that her knuckles are turning white. Her face is completely red and her eyes are wide and teary. “Nothing happened between us I swear!”

Her outburst is so sudden that even Ayato is taken aback for a moment. Hinami looks so flustered; she turns away the moment she realises her words. He doesn’t think her face can get any redder but it does. This is starting to get really weird. She’s never blushed this hard before, not even when they were having sex.

He stops himself there. That’s the last thing he needs right now. Picturing Hinami in bed isn’t going to get him anywhere good. What he needs to do now is to leave her, go to his room and get to bed. He’s right about to leave when Touka returns, sighing as she rubs the back of her neck.

“What a pain… I’m sorry about the bother, Hinami. Thank you for accompanying him back,” Touka sighs.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Hinami admits softly. “He was drinking so I got too worried about leaving him alone.”

“Yeah. I don’t think he’s that drunk but you can never be too safe. People do stupid things when they’re drunk after all,” Touka laughs a little.

“I-I know. That’s why I followed him back,” she whimpers. Her body’s stiffer again and Ayato knows exactly what she’s thinking about right now. God, if he hadn’t been an idiot that night and gave in to her, all this wouldn’t have happened. They’d still be just friends. His feelings for her would just be a simple one-sided attraction instead of the mess that it is right now. There would be nothing stopping him from being by her side. There are so many things that went wrong because of that one night. Touka is right; people do stupid things when they’re drunk.

“I’m going back now,” Hinami says. “It’s good to see you, Big Sister.”

Big Sister? When did Hinami and Touka get that close? Ayato turns to Touka, hoping for some answers, but Touka’s attention is still fixed on Hinami. She’s frowning right now. Touka glances at the clock on the wall and then back to Hinami.

“It’s too late for you to be walking back by yourself,” Touka argues. “Stay the night.”

Hinami’s eyes widen. There’s no hiding that the suggestion horrified her. “No, it’s fine. I don’t want to impose!”

There’s also no hiding that she glanced at him when she spoke. Though she really had nothing to worry about. If she does take up the suggestion, he’d leave for his apartment on the pretence that he has something urgent to tend to.

“You’re not imposing. We don’t have extra rooms so you can easily just sleep in Ichika’s room. I could get a futon out for you. It’s not that hard,” Touka says.

Hinami glances at Ayato again before she shakes her head. It’s either she’s not bothering to be inconspicuous and wants him to know how uncomfortable he’s making her feel or she’s too flustered that she’s doing it subconsciously. At this point, Ayato doesn’t even know which one he prefers.

“It’s fine. I really should be getting back to my dorm before it closes,” she says.

“Oh, is that the case?” Touka murmurs thoughtfully.

Ayato glances at the clock. Hinami is lying. Her dorm had closed hours ago. He really ought to point that out. But if he does, Touka might force Hinami to stay here. The streets aren’t that dangerous right? He’s been out there at this hour before. It’s not like he’s gotten killed or anything before. But Hinami’s a girl— a really pretty girl at that. There’s no way it will be safe for her. It would take just one creep and god knows what could happen to her. Ayato doesn’t know what to do. He wants her to be safe of course. But they had promised not to get involved with each other anymore, hadn’t they? He can tell Hinami glanced at him again and he knows that she saw him looking at the clock. She knows full well that he had noticed what’s going on. She’s probably waiting for a reaction from him as well.

What would she think if he said nothing? Would it hurt her if he doesn’t care?

It doesn’t matter either way. Touka continues talking before he’s able to say anything.

“Well, then, I guess I’ll see you soon?” Touka says, smiling a little. She pulls Hinami into a brief hug, but as she pulls away, she pauses and turns to look at Ayato. “Actually, since you’re here, why don’t you walk her back?”

“What? No! That’s fine!” Hinami cries out before Ayato could even finish processing what his sister had just said. “I’ll be okay. I’ll get home myself. It’s fine. The streets are safe. I won’t walk into dark alleys—”

“Bullshit,” Touka cuts in. “Anyway, it’s better to be safe than sorry, right?”

He wants to scream at Touka. She’s the one who told them to part ways in the first place. But he knows that Touka is right. He’s never going to forgive himself if something ever happens to her because he has too much pride to forget a stupid agreement and walk her home.

“No, it’s okay! I’m fine by myself.”

“That’s stupid. I can’t leave you on your own out there.”

Hinami is still trying to turn the suggestion down, pushing Touka away and shaking her head while Touka keeps forcing the idea. It looks like neither of them are going to back down.

“The streets are safe!”

“Hinami,” he sighs. Hinami freezes but she doesn’t turn to him. “It’s fine. I don’t mind walking you back.”

“I don’t think…” she trails off, shaking her head while still fiddling with the strap of her bag. If she really doesn’t want it, he supposes he can’t force her. He’s right about to give up when he catches Touka’s eyes. His sister is staring at him demandingly and he knows Touka isn’t going to give either of them an option. Ayato sighs and walks forward, taking Hinami’s hand and tugging her towards the door. “Come on, let’s go.”

“I really don’t need you to—”

“Shut up.”

Ayato doesn’t let go of her hand even when he’s pulling her out. Hinami doesn’t know if he’s doing it knowingly or if he simply just forgot to let go. She supposes it’s the latter. He doesn’t look too pleased about being out with her right now. He’s only here because Touka didn’t give him a choice. The atmosphere around them is already awkward enough. Knowing that he doesn’t want to be here just makes it worse, especially when her mind is still reeling from her conversation with Kaneki.

Are you sure you’re not in love with him?

Her heart is going to leap out of her chest simply thinking about it. She dares herself to look up, staring ahead at Ayato’s back. She doesn’t want to even consider the thought that she might be in love with him and that too, at such a point in time. How would Ayato even react if— hypothetically speaking— she suddenly confesses to him right now? Would he be happy? Would he get angry? Would he tell her she’s too late? Maybe if she’s lucky, he might just forget everything and they would be able to get together and become a happy couple. Everything would be good.

But even that is just a fantasy, she supposes.

She remembers seeing him glance at the clock and yet remain silent back at Touka’s place just now. He hadn’t wanted to walk her back. He knew that she was lying about her dorm being open right now. It didn’t seem to matter to him as much as it mattered to Touka that she was going to walk home alone. Hinami herself hadn’t wanted him to come, but she feels a sting deep down realising that it didn’t matter to him if anything happened to her.

“Where are you going to go now?” he asks. Ayato breaks the silence so suddenly that she almost jumps. She looks away from his head, dropping her eyes, only for her gaze to fall to their connected hands. He’s still holding her. They’ve never held hands outside before, except for that one time when they met Touka and Kaneki and Ayato had wanted to get away from there quickly. Thinking about it, didn’t she get upset on that day? They had a big fight and she had thought he was only using her.

Every time you looked at me like that, it felt like I fell in love with you all over again.

Will he still feel that way, she wonders, if she looks at him like that again?

“Back to the dorms,” she replies.

“The dorms, huh?” he sighs. He stops and it’s too sudden for her to keep up without running into him. She moves away quickly but it’s not like she can move too far from him with him still holding her hand. Does he not notice?

“Yes, the dorms.”

He turns to her with a raised eyebrow, their eyes meeting. “It’s closed now isn’t it?”

“I’ll climb over the gates,” she says as an excuse— anything to just get him to start walking or to turn away again. She can’t keep staring at his eyes like that, not with Kaneki’s words still playing in her mind. Are you sure you’re not in love with him? Are you sure you’re not in love with him? Are you sure—

“In that?” he laughs out.

She hadn’t thought much about her outfit but she looks down and regrets it immediately. There’s no way she’ll be able to climb over the gates in a tight pencil skirt without tearing it or lifting up far too much. But the only other option she has right now is to go back with him. If it has to come to this, she supposes she could do with one less skirt.

“Don’t underestimate me,” she scoffs instead.

He blinks and then smirks. “Oh, I know better than to underestimate you, Hinami.”

She’d have given him a light punch for that had it been some other time but right now, all she can do is stare at him in silence. The smirk fades from his lips and his eyes drop to their hands. He smiles slightly— weakly— and releases her. He slides his hands into his pockets and turns around, continuing to walk as if nothing had happened. They hadn’t been holding hands. They hadn’t talked. Nothing.

If there’s anything that she picked up about him the past two months, it’s that Ayato is very capable of pretending that everything is alright with him even if his world is in shambles. She’d been with him for two years and never once had she ever guessed all that he was harbouring from her. Even till now, he’s never going to be honest about anything.

“Ayato,” she calls out. He stops and looks over his shoulders. He doesn’t say anything, simply waiting for her to instead. It feels like she has a lot of things to say to him, but now that he’s standing there waiting for her to say something, she realises that she has nothing to say to him. She can ask him a lot of things she supposes but she already knows all the answers to them. The only answers she doesn’t have are to the questions she has to ask herself. Why did she get so upset that day at the alley? Why had his disappearance that night worry her so much? Why did their separation change her life so much? What exactly does she want from him?

“What is it?” he grumbles after a moment of silence. Hinami shakes her head and he frowns. “Then let’s go—” Ayato stops talking, looking up to the sky. She could feel it too.

It starts as soft pats on her face and arms. But in a mere matter of seconds, it starts coming down harder and harder, until she can barely see what’s in front of her. Her hair and clothes are plastered against her skin. She’s soaked and it’s freezing. The rain had been sudden but it didn’t come with a surprise. The weather had been pretty overcast that day. In front of her, Ayato squints as he walks towards her, grabbing her wrist to start pulling her along again, this time into a run.

“We need to get to shelter!” he shouts, trying his best to be loud enough for her to hear him. Even then, she can barely hear him over the rain. “There’s no time to get the dorms. Let’s go back home.”`

“No!” she cries out. He ignores her, trying to pull her back down the direction they had come from, but Hinami tries her best to struggle against it. It’s too weird being in the same place as both Kaneki and Ayato. She’d get no sleep the whole night and her heart would probably never calm down. She’s still thinking about that conversation. “I’m going back to the dorms.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” He stops trying to pull her, turning to glare at her. “We’d get sick.”

“I don’t want to go back there,” Hinami insists.

“Why not?”

“Because I just don’t want to!”

“Something happened between you and Kaneki just now, didn’t it?” Ayato snorts. She thinks he’s smirking. She can’t see his face clearly amidst the rain while she’s squinting her eyes, but she hears the victorious haughtiness in his voice. “Fine then. Let’s go to my place.”

“No!” Her cry comes out faster than she had meant it to, almost as if it was an instinctive response to his suggestion. But Ayato’s place is definitely a worse idea. Not only will she go crazy thinking about everything that had happened, Hinami doesn’t trust herself alone with him anymore, definitely not after what happened in her dorm room. They’re not supposed to be doing anything, she reminds herself, but she also knows that the both of them have terrible self-control.

“What now?” Ayato yells. “The dorm’s way too far, Hinami, and there’s no way you’re climbing up the gates in this rain. You’re going to get hurt.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Hinami argues back. She can tell that Ayato’s right on the verge of losing his shit and she can’t blame him. He didn’t even want to accompany her here. He got forced to then and now he’s caught in insanely heavy rain with her out of all people. “Look, you can go back first. I’ll be fine by myself.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m serious— Ah!” She’s cut off as he pulls her closer to him and lifts her up. It takes a moment for her to realise that he’s carrying her and that she’s pressed against him, with his hands on her waist. She feels herself stiffen, everything freezing around her. She’s too close to him. They hadn’t been this close in so long. He hadn’t touched her in so long. Even though she has her clothes, her body prickles at his touch. By the time she snaps out of her slight trance, he’s already thrown her over his shoulder and is walking off in the direction of his apartment.

“Hey! Put me down!” she screams.

“Shut up. People are going to get the wrong idea about this if you keep struggling,” he growls.

“Let me go!” Her voice gets shriller but it doesn’t make much of a difference as the rain gets louder and heavier. She’s way too soaked and cold to put up a decent fight against Ayato, but she has no plans on giving up. She doesn’t want to go back to his apartment. It’s loaded far too much with her memories of him. She doesn’t trust herself to be swayed by them and to give in to whatever drives her at that point in time. It’ll be a miracle if she can get through an hour without either pulling him to his bed or being pulled to his bed.

He reaches his apartment complex in less than half the time it would take them to get to the dorms. Even when they’re under shelter, he doesn’t put her down, ignoring her screaming and cursing. People definitely will get the wrong idea and if any of his neighbours happen to open their door right now, it’ll probably land both of them in hot water. But Hinami can’t be bothered about that right now. She just wants to do whatever she can to stop herself from entering the place.

“Ayato, please wait—” She’s cut off as he lifts her off his shoulder and pushes her against the door. He’s still holding her off the ground. Back pressed to the door, she’s staring straight ahead, at him. Their faces are levelled and close, less than an inch apart even.

He furrows his brows and speaks in a soft whisper. “If you’re uncomfortable with it, I don’t mind going back to my sister’s place.”

“What? In that rain? No,” she grumbles. “If you’re going to run back through the rain, I might as well do the same and return to my dorm.”

“I’ll come in my apartment, change and leave. I have umbrellas. It will be fine. I won’t get caught in the rain on my way back,” he says.

Being alone in his place doesn’t sit well with her either but it is a better option than being with him in there. Maybe she’d find some time to think through everything that’s going on right now. Maybe being in his apartment might actually help. She’ll also get to save her skirt.

“Fine,” she relents. “But you promise you would leave, right?”

“If that’s what you want,” he murmurs. Just like that, he releases her. As Ayato unlocks the door, she waits slightly behind him, trying to calm herself down and even her breathing out. It’s easier to breathe now that he’s not touching her but she realises something else she hadn’t notice immediately when she was so close to him.

His breath started smelling like smoke again. She had paid not much mind to it a month ago when they slept together, being so overwhelmed by everything else that she hadn’t put time and effort into thinking about it. But it’s worse now. He must have started smoking more this month. Simply entering his apartment is enough to tell her that. The smell is almost suffocating.

“God, how much did you smoke in here?” she complains the moment he shuts the door.

She sees a flash of panic in his eyes before he pushes past her to enter the kitchen. “Not much. I didn’t open my windows so the smoke must have stayed too long in here. I have some air freshener somewhere.”

It’s a stupid excuse. She knows he’s been smoking a lot and the number of empty beer cans she sees on the kitchen counter and the table in the living room doesn’t help his claim. He always smokes when he drinks.

“I thought you promised to stop,” she says when he comes out of the kitchen. He’s silent for a moment, placing the can of air freshener on the table before proceeding to pick up his empty beer cans.

Eventually, he says softly as he picks up the last can, “You promised to kiss me whenever I needed a stick.”

He’s right. That was the promise. But she can’t kiss him when they’re apart. He must have fallen back to his old habits when they parted. She knows it’s not her job to babysit him and lecture him over things like that. He should take care of himself on his own. He’s not a kid anymore and even if he is, he’s still not her responsibility. But she does wonder why every single one of his coping mechanisms had to somehow be harmful in one way or another. If he’s not kissing and sleeping with the girl he loves who doesn’t love him back, he’s smoking and drinking himself possibly to death.

But that’s his problem and she knows she has to leave it to him to deal with him. She drops the subject there as Ayato turns to his room. Hinami wonders if she should follow him. She could always use the bathroom in the living room if he’s using the one in the bedroom. She opts to follow him nevertheless, entering the bedroom behind him. Lightning flashes in the distance, followed by the loud, sudden rumbling of thunder. The rain is getting heavier. Hinami wonders if it’s really a good idea for Ayato to leave now.

“I have extra towels here and clothes. I don’t have your clothes anymore so you can borrow mine if you want,” he says, opening his closet.

“What about you?” she asks.

“I’ll leave after I get changed,” he replies. He reaches into the closet and pulls out a towel, holding it out to her.

“Aren’t you going to take a shower as well?”

“Nah. I’ll just head home instead.”

Hinami nods, walking over and taking the towel from him. She doesn’t look at him, simply walking to the bathroom before closing it instead. She stands still for a long moment, back to the shower, face to the mirror. She’s stood here many times before during happy times and sad times as well. This bathroom itself holds a particular memory. She still can’t tell if it’s good or bad— that moment when things started to slowly change, initially for the better and then, for the worse. She probably didn’t realise back then how much of a false hope she was giving him. She had been sincere. She seriously wants to try. But maybe they were really not meant to be and there’s nothing she can do about that.

You are in love with him.

She chokes and shakes her head. She shouldn’t let those ideas get into her head. She just needs to focus on what she has to do now-- her shower. Besides, Ayato would be leaving anyway. She shouldn’t worry about him.

Her shower is faster than usual. She tries not to think about it but she continues remembering their moments in there-- her promising him that she’d give him a chance, him taking care of her after what happened in the alley. They were very different memories, but both make her heart ache. The relationship with him that she had held so dear has come to an end. It feels like there’s an evil being beside her right now, continuously whispering and reminding her of the times, tempting her to give in and run back to him, to fool him into thinking that she’s giving him what he wants.

Tell him.

If she tells him she loves him, maybe he will let her stay.

Lie to him.

But is it truly a lie now? Kaneki surfaces, reminding her once again what he thinks. Her mind is like a courtroom, both Kaneki and her throwing out their opinions, arguing over everything that’s going on. But nothing gets resolved and thinking too much only gives her a headache. She needs to leave-- not just the bathroom, but his apartment too.

There’s nothing she can do about the clothes. Hers are still too wet to wear. She supposes she can leave them in the laundry basket for now. Since she’s taking some of his anyway, she could always take them back from him when she goes to return his clothes to him. She picks out a sweater from the closet which he had once complained to her over how oversized it was. When she puts it on, it’s as good as a dress and she didn’t have to worry about showing anything she didn’t want to like the previous time she had dashed out of Ayato’s apartment on a rainy night while wearing his clothes. Holding her bag tightly in her hands, she starts to walk out, only to stop when she’s in front of the door, right at the entrance of the kitchen. The stench of smoke was too overbearing. She knows it’s new.

Entering the kitchen gives her answers immediately. Ayato is still there. It doesn’t seem like he had expected her to show up so quickly. Sitting on the floor, with a stick in his mouth and two other buds on the floor beside him, he looks up at her with wide eyes.

“Hinami? Wait, what are you doing here?” he asks.

She’s tired of this. Even though she knows it’s not her business, she knows that she can’t just leave this be.

“Stop it,” she says.

“Stop what?” He knows damn well what she’s talking about. She can tell he’s faking it.

“Stop smoking,” she snaps.

“It’s too rainy outside. I can’t smoke there,” he says. “It shouldn’t bother you in the bedroom if I smoke here in the kitchen. Not unless you stupidly decide to show up here anyway. What are you doing here?”

She ignores his question. She can’t tell him that she’s planning to leave. “Why are you still here?” She sounds so haughty and she hates herself for it. She’s in his apartment. She has no rights to chase him out.

“I was going to leave after… this.”

“After that stick?” she asks.

Ayato hesitates before answering. He clears his throat. “No. After this box.”

That did it; it’s way too much. She drops to her knees and pulls the cigarette out of his mouth before flicking it to the floor. Ayato scowls at her and reaches for it, but Hinami manages to kick it away in time, barely avoiding getting the soles of her feet burnt in the process. Ayato seems annoyed but he makes no effort to take that particular stick. He does have a box, she remembers. Ayato tries to push her away, probably to get up and leave so he can smoke the rest of his box in peace since she knows she’s making it obvious that she isn’t letting him smoke anymore. The box is in his hands and she tries her best to take it away from him. But Ayato is so much stronger than she is and it’s barely a hard task for him to overpower her physically. The scuffle ends with him pinning her down on the floor, pressing her hands down at the sides of her head. Their faces are so close, him still glaring at her while breathing hard.

“Your breath stinks,” she snaps at him.

“Why does that matter to you?” he yells. “Just leave me alone already. Let me do what I want. I have no business listening to you when we’re not doing it anymore.”

“So you stopped smoking just to have sex with me, is that it?” she challenges and Ayato grits his teeth in response, the hesitation evident in his eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did that. I did so many things so I could fuck the girl I like. You’d do the same with Kaneki, won’t you?”

Again.

“Why do you keep bringing him up every time?” Hinami feels like crying, though she knows she’s not sad. She feels angrier right now. It feels like she isn’t the only one who’s holding them back from moving on with this relationship. Nothing is going to come out of it if Ayato doesn’t change as well. She might fall heads over heels in love with him but as long as Ayato is convinced that he’s a mere replacement, they will never find satisfaction with what they have.

And maybe, that really was the case. Maybe they really are in love with each other. Maybe there isn’t a complication at all. Maybe it’s just them, them being so convinced that this relationship was messed up that it clouded their eyes to the realities of him; her being so obsessed with the idea of being in love with Kaneki that she fails to see that she’s long moved on from it and that she’s found someone else. Ayato was right, perhaps. Someone really did come and sweep her off her feet.

“What else is there to talk about?” Ayato shouts back. “It’s always been about Kaneki and it’s always going to be about Kaneki, both here and back home. I’m never going to be free of it, am I? Everything I care about, everything I want-- he’s going to take it. He has it all and I’m left in the dumps with nothing.”

“Your smoking has nothing to do with Kaneki--”

“You shut up! You know it damn well has to do with Kaneki. He’s the reason everything fucked up in the first place!” Ayato continues, cutting into her. “This relationship has never been about the two of us at all. It was always about him.”

Even when he’s yelling at the top of his lungs, she can see just how miserable he is. Hinami doesn’t know what she can do to convince him of anything right now. He seems so staunch in his beliefs. It’s as if he’s recited all these things to himself over and over again that he genuinely believes in them-- Kaneki is the reason everything went wrong, Kaneki took Touka and Hinami away from him, they will never love him, she will never love him. But he’s wrong. She knows he’s wrong but she doesn’t know how to tell him otherwise.  

But listen to me, Hinami, you are in love with him.

She needs to let him know, but how does she convince him of it even when she’s questioning it herself?

They fall silent and Ayato’s hold on her weakens, before he moves his hands away, releasing her and resting his palms against the floor. His body is heaving and his head hangs forward. She can’t see the expression he has on his face right now but she can imagine how anguished it must be right now. She can’t think of anything else to do, except to each forward, wind her arms around his trembling frame. Sitting up, she pulls him to her, resting his head against her shoulder and stroking his hair gently.

“You’re wrong, Ayato,” she murmurs. “Kaneki didn’t do anything to you.”

“Except push me in front of a truck,” he says immediately.

“He didn’t steal Touka or me away from you, Ayato. We’re here.”

Ayato’s silent for a long moment before he relaxes in her arms. “I know,” he says slowly after a while. “I know it’s not his fault but it’s not fair. I know I stand no chance and I told myself-- I keep telling myself that-- but… I… I don’t know. Kaneki is so good to my sister. He’s so kind and caring to you too. He’s never actually done anything to hurt me aside from one accident and even though we don’t really get along, I knew he’d help me out if I ever need anything.”

“It’s going to be okay, Ayato,” she says softly. She pushes him away slightly, just so she can cup his face and stare into his eyes. “It’s going to be okay.”

“It’s not.” He furrows his brows as he speaks. He sighs and closes his eyes. “It’s not going to be okay, Hinami. This is all I’m going to have.”

“That’s not true,” she argues. “I’m sure it’ll get better.”

He pulls away from her, turning away. For a moment, she worries he might leave but instead, he sighs again and sits down, leaning against the cabinet. They’re silent for a moment-- him looking up at the ceiling and her watching him. Ayato shakes his head.

“It won’t. I know it won’t,” he whispers.

If there’s any time for her to say it, she supposes she should say it now. “Ayato, if I say something now, will you promise to take it seriously?”

He shrugs. “I don’t think there’s anything I won’t if it’s from you.”

“If… I say I love you, how will you react?” she murmurs.

He shrugs again, his nonchalant disposition starting to really bother her. “I don’t know.”

“That’s upsetting.”

“Why?”

“Because I kinda do think I like you… in that manner,” she admits.

He’s silent for a long time again. There’s barely any change in his sullen expression. It’s a far cry from the overwhelming ecstasy she thought he’d respond with. She’s convinced herself for a long time ago that if she ever falls for him and confesses to him, he’d be happy. But now, she doesn’t feel any of that and a part of her worries she might be too late. Has he gotten over her?

“Where did this suddenly come from?” he asks.

“I was talking to Kaneki just now and--”

“Kaneki?” he cuts in, looking at her with raised eyebrows.

“Yes, Kaneki,” she responds somewhat annoyed. “Listen. Anyway, I was talking to Kaneki and I told him what happened. He says--”

“Let me guess,” Ayato cuts in. “You made a fool of yourself and confessed to him and he says that you’re wrong and the person you’re in love with is me.”

Hinami turns to him. “How do you know that? You weren’t there, were you?” She can’t help but remember that slight moment Kaneki had pretended Ayato was there-- he wasn’t, was he?

“No but it sounds like the kind of dumb shit you’d do,” he scoffs. “So because he said that, being the idiot you normally are, you believed him, right?”

She pauses before responding, raising her eyebrow at him. She’s sensing so much hostility from him that it’s confusing her. Maybe given the circumstances, it’s understandable that he might not be happy to hear this but she doesn’t think it would make him annoyed, but there he is, sitting in front of her, with a scowl scrawled on his face.

“What’s with you, Hinami?” he grumbles. “Can’t you ever think for yourself?”

“I do. I’m not saying this because Kaneki told me. All he did was make me realise that--”

“No, all that’s bullshit!” Ayato cuts in, raising his voice again. “You’re always like that. You’re always bringing him up. It always just goes back to him. I bet he also said some shit about how we’re made for each other and how he wants us to be together and you completely bought into that poor boy Ayato thing Kaneki was playing at. Just know that’s not the case and I am completely fine living without you!”

She doesn’t realise when it got so tiring to deal with Ayato. At one point, he always listened to what she said and his cynical attitude was generally bearable but mostly because he never directed it to her.

“It didn’t feel that way when you were whining about your life on my shoulder just now,” she mutters. She annoyed. She’s getting angry and upset as well. Nothing is going well; nothing is going like how she anticipated it to. “Ayato, can we just… try again?”

“Try again?”

“Or do something at least, I don’t know. I don’t want to keep ignoring everything. We’ve been apart for one month and nothing has changed for me. I still feel so empty,” she continues. “Do we have to pretend there’s nothing? Can’t we just get back together again?”

“I’m leaving,” he says, getting up.

“What? Why? That’s the opposite of what I’m asking for,” she cries out. “Ayato, for once, please!”

He’s walking towards the door and she scrambles to her feet, just in time to grab him by his sleeves before he could reach for the door handles. She tugs him backwards and he turns to scowl at her again. “What do you want Hinami?”

“Do you really have to go? Can’t you stay?” she asks. “The rain is still heavy. It’s dangerous for you to go.”

“You were really hellbent on me leaving just now. Why does it matter now?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I don’t know but… don’t go.” Not when I’ve just said all that. She would have said out her thoughts. She would have been honest with him. She wanted to. But Ayato’s looking at her like she’s crazy, like she’s just said something wrong.

“I don’t believe you, Hinami,” he admits. “This is so sudden and after Kaneki told you all that too. I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t trust you when you’re saying things like this. The last time you said something like that, it didn’t work out.”

“I promised you that we’d take it slow and that one day it would work out, but it won’t happen if you’re not going to give it a chance,” she says urgently. She holding onto his sleeves with both his hands right now.

“How do I know you’re not lying right now?” he challenges.

“How do you want me to prove it to you?” she shoots back.

They both fall silent because honestly, there isn’t a way. There’s no way Hinami can prove her words to him, especially not when she’s thinking about them herself. Ayato has a point-- does she really love him or does she only think she does because Kaneki told her so? Is she perhaps still being swayed by her feelings for Kaneki? Her mind’s a mess. She can’t decide even if she should let him go now. Him staying might make things awkward and perhaps, it might make everything worse. But him going might do the same.

“How about you just think about it?” he says, roughly pulling his arm away from her grasp. “Just stay here. I’m going home.”

Perhaps his apartment didn’t feel like home anymore. Maybe he too can’t stand the memories in it.

Hinami remains silent, unable to say the right words to convince them both of what she had just said, completely clueless over what she should do to get him to stay. He leaves the apartment, closing and locking the door behind him. She’s left alone now and she simply stands there, staring at the door, her mind a blank slate. Eventually, she moves, having nothing else to do. It’s late. She throws himself on his bed, pulls the blanket over herself and tries to sleep. She’s exhausted but even then, it is hard for her to keep her eyes close.

It smells just like him.

He doesn’t think it’s a good idea to be leaving the apartment right now, but he doesn’t say anything either. Nothing good is going to come out of the both of them spending the night together. Even meeting her in her dorm the other night just to pass a piece of paper to her was a bad idea. He can’t imagine what would happen if they were staying together. Simply staying there too long must have made her insane for her to say those things to him.

If… I say I love you, how will you react?

No.

Because I kinda do think I like you… in that manner.

He doesn’t want to hope again.

He needed to discipline himself, to stop turning back to her and clinging onto false hope. He’s already told himself that nothing is going to come out of waiting and wishing. As long as a little inkling of desire and hope resides in him, he is going to keep his distance from her. Until he’s sure he’s not going to do anything stupid again and start something that would once again hurt both of them, he will not approach her.

He didn’t have a choice when Touka made it clear that she wanted him to walk Hinami back but he has a choice now. Even when Hinami suddenly changed her mind, he stuck to it. He doesn’t trust himself anymore. He’d eventually have chosen to believe if he had been there.

The rain had gotten heavier from when he and Hinami had run to his apartment on the way back from Touka’s place. If it was cold then, it’s colder now. Even with an umbrella, he’s getting wet. He can barely hear anything over the sound of raindrops. He can’t see that far ahead in front of him either. It’s so late in the night already. It’s really a bad idea to be out right now. He’s stupid for doing this. Touka will probably yell at him when she hears about this. But he’ll deal with that when it happens. Right now, he has to focus on walking forward despite the temptation to turn back to his apartment and to tell Hinami he changed his mind.

The rain continues to fall down on him. The umbrella offers not much protection, especially with the strong winds. He’s trying his best to stay under it, but with every blow of the wind, the umbrella is tugged along with it and he’s staggering as he tries to pull it back and to stay beneath it. His jeans are already drenched, weighing him down with every step he took. He wonders why he’s pushing himself so much like this. He wonders why he isn’t turning back. Turning back is the logical solution, but he supposes stubbornness runs deeper through his veins than he initially thought so.

There’s a flash followed by a clap of thunder again, so loud and sudden it makes him jump. Right after that, another blast of wind comes and he hasn’t had enough time to get over the shock from the thunder and to pull himself together. He staggers again as the umbrella is pulled along, but this time, it slips out of his hands. He tries to reach it but the wind has it in a matter of seconds, taking it along. His sight is so compromised that he can’t see where it landed. He’s squinting too hard to keep the water out of his eyes.

It’s so cold. His clothes are soaked in a matter of heartbeats. He can feel his hair plastered against his head. His bangs are falling too much into his eyes and it’s making visibility worse. He continues to walk but bothers him but in truth, his body is trembling from the cold, his muscles are contracting and his teeth are chattering. Screw going back to his apartment, he doesn’t want to move an inch from the spot he’s at. He wants to sit there, curl into a ball and just wait out the storm. But it doesn’t look like it’s stopping any time soon. He can already feel his nose stuffing up and his throat itching. If he stays out any longer, he probably would fall really sick.

He pulls his hood on and continues walking. The walk feels like forever, much longer than when he had dragged Hinami back to his apartment. He did feel pretty bad about it. Maybe he should have apologized to her about it. He wonders why she had hesitated to come with him in the first place. She wouldn’t have done that if she meant what she said to him. The conversation with her replays in his mind. Her touch was gentle as always and she’d spoken to him understandingly again, even when he’s pissed off and screaming at her. He doesn’t know how Hinami remains so calm whenever he loses his shit but she must have gotten used to him after spending time with him for so long.

Maybe they should have talked things out a little more. Simply storming out and leaving her like that was probably not a good idea. He’s probably going to see her again the next morning. He doesn’t think she’ll leave so early unless she doesn’t want to see him which he supposes would be unlikely since she’s almost begged him to stay earlier on.

He stops, turning backwards. Maybe he’d acted too rashly. Maybe he should go back and talk to her. Maybe he should just pretend that everything’s okay and take Hinami’s words as the truth. Lie or no lie, what matters, he supposes, isn’t what Hinami truly feels but what he believes she does.

He should go back. He really should.

But he supposes he doesn’t really have a choice. Everything happens in a blink of an eye. He hears the screeching of tires somewhere behind him and when he turns towards it, he sees two bright spots of lights— headlights— hurling right towards him. His heartbeat quickens and he hears something inside him screaming at him to jump away. But his feet are rooted in the ground. He feels himself being transported to sometime back, to a memory he’s tried so hard to forget but has only ever been unsuccessful in doing so. Yet never once has he remembered it so vividly as he does now— a rainy night, screeching of tires, bright headlights and then pain. He closes his eyes, squeezing them tights as he waits for the impact to come, to feel the strong vehicle ram into his feeble body to send him flying, to feel all his senses dull as his body erupts into excruciating pain.

All that comes is blackness again.

A/N: I spent so long debating if I should post this. I actually have most of Shattered already written out! I’m already on the last chapter now. But posting is where it gets really hard, honestly. I told myself I don’t want to post anymore because of all the hate I was getting. I feel really unappreciated at that point in time. But then I found out that it was just one person sending everything to me and I began questioning if I really should stop. Maybe just finishing up this fic would be okay. But that creepy hater for some reason started asking me to continue the fic. I don’t know if all the hate was just for entertainment while they really like my fics, or if they found some joy in doing these sorts of things. But I started hesitating again because posting a fic like they wanted me to felt like I was giving in to them and letting them win. Thinking about it now, I shouldn’t have bothered about that person. The more they message me, the more I am convinced they’re just a fucking hater. 

Anyway, I just wanted yall to know why I stopped and why now I decided to continue. They’re lifeless. I shouldn’t worry about them. I should hold myself and those who enjoy my work and are nice about it to high levels. So that’s why Shattered is out. 

I ended up changing the ending a little bit! I wouldn’t completely call it a happy ending anymore but it’s less angsty than the bittersweet ending I had in mind. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to make Shattered too happy simply because of the tone of the entire story. Anyway, thank you for reading! I hope you had fun :) 

Once again, please please do reblog if you like this! It’ll really help me out. Feel free to leave comments in the tags/ reblogs/ replies or through asks!

[flydotnet]

Euthanasia

VRAINS Rarepair Weeks 2018 - Day 4: Birthday/Dying

Summary: [Euthanasia: substantive. From the Greek for "happy" and "death" ; literally, "a happy death".] He is dying in his beloved's arms, but it's too late to realize that, and it's too late to tell her about it. He simply wishes she wasn't crying over him in his last moments. That must be why he doesn't want to die now.

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS Ships: Hireshipping (Ema/Akira), platonic and brotherly Akira & Aoi

Wordcount: 2.3K words

Notes: Shhh I skipped Day 3 and I know it, I simply wasn't inspired at all by festivities yesterday lmao. Sup you non-only-DSS-shipper peeps, remember when I made y'all suffer with some angst? Well, it's back woopsie daisy. I've never continued Cyber Thunder Cider (still need to, despite my canon being outdated af by Ema and Kengo's actual situation that was revealed afterwards in the show), so I'm here to bring you what would essentially be the other side of that story. I originally wanted to subvert the prompt with some shitty proverb but instead it's dead-ass angst. Deadass Hire angst because who doesn't want more Hireshipping and suffering in their life? Well, maybe you don't, but I sure do and I'm the one with the angsty Hireship fics here.

Event hosted by @vrainsrarepairweeks

AO3 version available here.

Almost shot through the heart, huh.

 That was rather ironic to think about: he had survived many potentially lethal deals in a shady back alley to finance his sister’s happiness, and yet this would be the end of him. What an ironic ending to his life. It was by saving someone else from death that he granted it upon himself once and for all.

This person he had saved was clutching him against her chest with little consideration to how much he was bleeding out. It was heart-breaking in such a selfish way: he didn’t want the last moments he’d see her to be so sad and painful for her. He had never wanted to see her cry and especially not because of him.

 He wished he could tell her not to weep over him, that’d it be okay. After all, she called for an ambulance as soon as she realized he had been shot: she had done what she could already. There was no reason for her to feel bad about something he had decided to do for her sake: he had never been forced to do so, he simply wanted to save her. Ema’s life, in a moment, mattered much more than his. It still did then: he was actively dying now, and she was alive, safe and sound, albeit miserable. No matter which way he tried to see it as, it was still better than letting her get shot. Would it have gotten her, she would have been killed on the spot.

Bleeding out to death was a weird way to go. In a day and age of instant demises, of lives ending shorter than they got conceived, it was surprising to him that he had been given the time to see Ema’s sorrow over his incoming end and to reflect on his own life. Not that there was much to say about it before his parents had died: afterwards, it had been day-to-day survival, switching between school and back-alley jobs he could never be proud of having done, all for Aoi’s smile which slowly disappeared because he hadn’t given her the attention she deserved. Ah, Aoi…

 “Ema, can… Can I ask you something…?” His voice was groggy and struggling to escape from his throat, as if caught inside by a spider’s sticky and tricky web. It was exhausting to even speak, but he had to do this for Aoi’s sake.

“O-of course…” Her own voice was hesitant, almost wishing not to exist. Through his blurry vision, he could still she was turning away from him, pinching her lip, a tear running down her cheek. Would he have the strength to do so, he would have landed her his handkerchief for her to brush away her tears.

“Can you promise me to watch over Aoi for me… Please…?”

His demand was split in the middle by blood pouring out of his mouth. His lung had been touched. Her own face looked like it had been split apart by it.

“O-of course I will…”

Ema seemed very unsure of her promise, as if doubting her certitude to assure it. Now this was more worrisome… However, that might have been because of how upset she was.

 Still reassured to hear her agree to it, he swallowed back more of the blood he coughed out. The bullet had lodged itself inside his left lung, near his heart that was beating three times too quickly, and yet his pulse was weakening by the moment. His body didn’t know where to go while he was somewhat at a peace of mind: all he needed to do was to make sure Ema and Aoi were both safe. He had saved the former from getting mortally shot: she would take care of the latter. He could sense Aoi had a fondness for the cyberhuntress already, it would only be a question of time.

“By the way… You can get my flat….” He added to make sure they would live perfectly fine when he’d be gone.

 Ah, he was still fairly young to die, now that he thought about it. Dying at twenty-six wasn’t exactly going very far in ages where the average life expectancy was around ninety years of age. Oh well, it was too late to regret doing this. A hand on the dampness that had become this suit he felt like he always wore, it was time to even think back on everything, but his mind blanked. They said your entire life flashed before your eyes before you died, but his never came back to unfold itself again to him. Instead, all he could see was a blurry rendition of Ema’s sorrowful face.

It was as though seeing her so torn over his demise was what prevented him from exhaling his last breath. He didn’t want to die, far from it: he at least wanted to see Aoi become an adult, date a boy or a girl he would be overly suspicious about like a strict father only to warm up to them when he’d see how much they cared about his sister, graduate college and go on to have a life he hoped would be even more successful than his. He wanted to make sure she wouldn’t become like him: a workaholic figure that should have been there and wasn’t, who would come home late and get scolded by his own hired huntress for running himself to the ground. He wanted to see his sister become a great woman, to see her continue doing what she wanted, to save the world like she was already doing with Soulburner and Playmaker.

And he wouldn’t be there to see it, and it broke his heart to even think about.

 He would miss Aoi for sure, but he would also miss Ema and her cheeky smile. They had known each other for years, meeting through the Internet like so many people did around him. He didn’t want to see her go anytime soon, thus why he continued hiring her to the very day he was shot and killed. He simply didn’t expect today to be that day, and that she’d cry over him. For such an independent woman who disposed of data that could ruin people’s lives like she’d give out papers in the streets for some association or other motive, she was incredibly emotional and shaken by it. He’d have thought death didn’t affect very much and that he was, to her eyes, yet another hirer, yet another temporary boss.

Ema was who he wasn’t, and he loved her for this. Her mischievous spirit was always amusing to see in action, always coming up with new ways to trick others into fulfilling her objectives. It was this capacity to always have the upper hand over others that fascinated him at first. He had eventually grown to appreciate most aspects of her: her smile, her winks, her sisterly instincts about Aoi. He knew he could trust in her when everyone else would have dismissed her as shady and traitorous. It was more complex than that: she chose who she was loyal to, and he was lucky enough that she was loyal to Aoi and him.

 He didn’t want to see Ema go. If he could, he would have selfishly made it so she would remain with him until he gave out his last breath, but he was still aware help was coming. The scent of her flowery perfume was the only thing keeping him from gagging over the stench his blood constituted in his nose, a smell of copper and iron fought against by the spice of flowers that simply matched her personality perfectly. Maybe he actually was in love with her. Well, why the maybe? He was in love with this cyber Amazon, completely infatuated with everything she was; and he was lucky enough to be dying in her arms and not anyone else’s.

He never thought he’d see her cry over someone’s death. It just didn’t seem like an “Ema thing” to do. At best, he was hoping she would ask him how he was seeing his hand covered in red, but instead she caught him in his fall and gently laid him on the ground. This was awfully considerate of her: most people he had worked with before would have run away for their lives instead, either fearing losing it directly or losing their freedom by getting involved in a murder. At least, he knew she would watch over Ema for him once he’d be dead, which was just waiting any second to finally decide itself to happen. He didn’t want to die now, but if he had to… then be it.

 “Akira…?” Ema asked him, voice full of uncertainties and hiccups.

“Yes…?”

“Why did you do that, you fool?!”

Oh. There was this question again. She had asked him before, but he had been unable to reply because of blood getting out of his system. The haemorrhage still hadn’t stopped: he didn’t expect it to. The burning pain in his chest was quieting down because his senses were failing on him one by one.

“Obvious… To save you…”

“And why that…?” The newfound fervour in her voice was gone again, much to his chagrin.

“Because I…”

It wouldn’t get out. He was still timid to tell her. It’d make us feel worse anyway, would it not? She’d understand it was also personal between them. He didn’t want her to get any strings attached to him in his last moments. That would be a heartless thing to do.

“I wanted to… see your smile again…”

 Before she could properly hear him, his voice dimming down and eventually dying out, sirens had filled the scenery and so had red and blue lights, blinding him and hiding her. He’d never know if she ever heard him or if she had ever known of the true nature of their relationship to him. He’d never seen her smile again, or Aoi and her grow close, or even Aoi grow up and become an adult. His life had never flashed before his eyes: it was for the better, because this way he could hope to watch over them from the potential plane that was the afterlife.

Oh, how ironic of him to hope such a place existed now that he was on the verge of dying!

 His vision turned black before he could hear Ema scream for his name, repressing back a sorrow before fully letting herself sulk down into despair.

  When he opened his eyes, everything was white around him. Was that the afterlife so many religions professed the existence of. Maybe. That wouldn’t be the first time he’d be proven to be wrong, after all. Everything felt toned down: his sight was blurry, he could barely hear anything that wasn’t his own laboured breathing (or was it? Did people still breathe in the afterlife? Wasn’t that just a necessity of the body?), and his sense of touch was numbed. If afterlife started by not being able to move, then perhaps it would have been better not to access it.

It took him a few minutes to fully realize he was, against all odds, still alive and simply under sedatives. The blood loss he must have suffered was massive considering how slow he felt, as if every part of his body was made out of the heaviest metal. Moving anything seemed to be an egregious effort. Well, it was already a surprise that he was alive, he couldn’t be too capricious about how he wanted to make it out of there alive. He supposed he still had time to write his will, after all. Maybe he should do that as soon as possible since he had so nearly avoided death today. Or was it even today?

 The surrounding sounds were extremely mechanical: if he had to guess, he’d say there were a heart monitor, a machine helping with his breathing and an IV dripping. The contents? Most certainly blood, perhaps other nutrients. He was too numb to know if he had one or two pipes inserted inside his wrists. A voice soon enough came to his ears, a bit cottoned down but still a relief to hear again.

“Big brother, you’re awake…!”

Aoi’s timid voice was filled with a relief he had never heard coming from her. He had scared her too… But she was there, her hand on his, fingers enlaced in his, a heat he could progressively feel. Ah, he had missed his sister so much in so little time.

 There was another hand, this time on his forehead. After giving his dear Aoi the slightest smile (yet the only one he was able to give her at the moment), he lightly tilted his head to the left to see Ema’s eyes and face washed away in relief, dried trails on her cheeks, but with a smile he could only guess was heartfelt. The weight that had been on his chest since a time he didn’t know how to estimate had lifted as soon as he saw it through his weakened state and senses. He had missed it dearly too.

“Don’t ever do that again… You scared the shit out of us both!”

Her scold had this gentler tone to it, a tone that didn’t want to truly scold him away, as if gently reminding him not to almost die in her arms again. He’d miss them both too much to do so once more anyway.

 The last thing before Morpheus’s arms came back to pick him up was her emotional smile and tears of joy, reminding me of how much he wanted to keep seeing her, to keep hiring her until he would find the bravery to tell her that he truly loved her as more than an efficient treasure huntress. Perhaps he could, one day, make of the three of them a complete family.

But for now, needless to say, it was time to give himself a way to sleep the weakness off.

[enithinggoes]

Wanderer’s Refuge, chapter 2: caught red-handed

Agatha and Ursa knew they wouldn’t be able to stay flying for long, by morning they were already starting to feel hungry and thirsty, so Ursa pointed them to a nearby town she’d heard of so they could get supplies and maybe some maps of the country, they brought the train down as they approached and parked it hidden in a small clearing, then the girls went together into town, looking to find some means to get by just for the near future, as luck would have it, a very important opportunity was waiting just around the corner…

A young red haired man who preferred to go just by his first name was leaning against a wall, gathering his thoughts. He had the plan, he had the smarts, he had the stuff, he just needed the extra hands, someone desperate enough to take the risks and not ask about a big cut…

“We’re gonna need a way to make money.” Said Ursa, pushing Agatha’s wheelchair along the busy streets “and I don’t think people are gonna be super keen on hiring two teenagers that came out of nowhere.”

The man reacted instantly upon hearing them, “Perfect!”, and pushed himself off the wall, catching the coin he was flipping with a flourish and quickly turning to the girls and extending a gloved hand, he wore a dapper suit and a cheeky smile. “Good morning, young ladies! Haven’t seen you around here, are you two looking for a quick job?”

Agatha was a bit stunned by this sudden encounter, so it was all she could do to put her hand out, which the young man vigorously shook.

“Who are you and what the hell do you want with us?” said Ursa, clearly on edge.

“The name’s Lawrence, and there’s no need to be so rude. I want to take you two to lunch, my treat; I know this great place downtown. There, we can discuss a way you can both make 100 shillings in less than a week.”

The two girls glanced at each other, this man was twelve kinds of shady, but 200 total pounds was enough for not only basic supplies, but probably a few mattresses and an ice box, maybe even some coal(they hypothesized that maybe giving the train’s engine some steam might make Agatha less tired from flying).

“We’ll talk over lunch, but we do reserve the right to back out even if you pay for us!” Ursa answered, eyeing Lawrence suspiciously

“Of course, of course. Right this way, then!” The redhead did something close to a twirl turning back and leading them quickly down an alley.

At the restaurant, Lawrence had impeccable table manners, even better than Agatha’s, and definitely than Ursa’s, who was scarfing down an expensive cut of beef when he asked “So, I’ve told you ladies my name, it would be rude if you didn’t give me yours.”

“I’m Agatha Clarke, it’s a pleasure to meet you. And this is Ursa Martin,” said the white-haired girl, Ursa just mumbled in agreement while still chewing.

“Now, an illustrious coal baron, mr. Robert Evans, is coming to town with an entourage to visit the local mines, which have been drying up for a few decades. And I’d wager, with proper prestidigitation we can make a deal with him that shall be quite lucrative for us.” Lawrence explained with a devilish smile.

“So you’re a scammer.” Ursa said matter-of-factly.

“I prefer to think of myself as a merchant that really knows how to make a sale.” He said, entirely unperturbed.

“Alright, I’m down to scam a coal baron, what’s the game?”

“I’m glad you’ve asked, partner.”

Over the next few days, Lawrence brought the girls over to where he’d been staying, it was a small hotel room, surprising considering the apparent quality of his suit, Ursa had to carry Agatha’s chair up, since there were only stairs. There, he showed them a few large bags of oddly shaped rocks he’d collected plus some soot-based paint, “made it myself!” he commented with a wink.

They spent their time painting the rocks very thoroughly to look as much like coal as possible, while putting them out to dry, Agatha innocently asked “Sir Lawrence, I hope you don’t mind but why do you keep all your belongings in bags and pouches, is there something wrong with the room’s lockers?”

“Well, you see, I just like to keep my things close at hand.” The red-haired man seemed bashful, like that was only half an answer, still, Agatha didn’t want to pry. “You’re a very wholesome woman, aren’t you? I was actually a bit worried you’d be against my business model.”

“Well, you see, sir, I don’t think a baron of anything is going to be hurting for money anytime soon. And we don’t have many options in the present moment.” Agatha avoided mentioning she was already, by all accounts, a criminal.

 Lawrence put his knuckle to his chin and said “I see, I guess I misjudged you a little. Well, then we’d best get back to work, we have some rehearsing to do!” He felt like he understood her a bit more, but cut the conversation short, he didn’t like getting too attached to his “coworkers”

The three of them slept in Lawrence’s cramped room, Agatha and Ursa wanting to avoid the hassle of moving back to the train and the possibility of revealing their magical artifice, who knows how Lawrence could react?

The guests shared a sleeping bag of his cuddled together on the floor, while Lawrence rested on his bed, never taking off his gloves or turning his back to the door.

When a total of 5 days had passed, the final preparations were made in the morning and the three headed close to the city’s entrance, when they saw a man in a strikingly black suit accompanied by three burly lads, his eyes and nose turned slightly upwards as he strode, Ursa and Lawrence, both wearing dirty overalls, walked down onto the street, shouting at each other.

“Ya can’t sell those, those are all that’s left of Pa!” said Ursa, faking the accent people imagined miners to have.

“Well he worked himself ta death findin’ these so we could live a decent life!” retorted Lawrence, carrying a large, metal bucket full of painted pebbles.

“We could take over this whole town if ya just worked in that mine for a few more weeks!” she grabbed onto Lawrence’s shoulders, shaking him.

“We ain’t gonna be alive for more weeks if Ah don’t sell these!” He pushed her away, purposefully letting the rocks shake and make noise inside the bucket.

The baron’s bodyguards were about to push the two away from his path when, with an elegant, but firm hit of his cane onto the sidewalk, he commanded them to stop. Lawrence and Ursa turned to face him, feigning surprise.

“Now now, there’s no need for such vulgarism. Young man, would you kindly show me what you’re holding there?” He spoke to Lawrence slowly, like one speaks to a child.

As Ursa pretended to hold Lawrence back, he proudly showed the contents of the bucket, saying “This is what Pa used to call ‘charboné eterinow’, said he’d heard of it when he was young like me, burns as long as ya like, it does.”

“’Charbon eternél’, hmm, the eternal coal” Mr. Evans was clearly proud of his french, “could you show it to me in action?”

Lawrence put the bucket on the floor, smiling widely as he bragged “of course, mistah! Let me just get it burnin’ real quick” he took a little flask of moonshine from his pocket and let some drip onto the inside of the bucket, before setting it on fire with a simple tinderbox and quickly removing his hand before the flames flared to life.

“Easy there!” He quickly leaned back, his hands hovering at the sides of the bucket as they watched the flames cover the entirety of the bottom of the bucket, making the rocks hard to even look without feeling pain in one’s eyes.

Ursa was very nervous about this step, in theory, there should be nothing stopping the flame from fizzling out once all the alcohol was consumed, but Lawrence had assured her he “had a plan”. Lo and behold, the fire didn’t go out, instead it flared beautifully up, almost burning the coal baron’s clothes as it seemed to reach towards his eyes before stabilizing inside the bucket.

Whatever it was that Lawrence had done, it seemed that he was quite anxious too, as he stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth in concentration and quickly started to sweat, thought that might have been from the heat, while his hands hovered near the bucket for more than two minutes before he quickly turned it upside down, fast enough for none of the rocks to go flying.

  “That should put it out in a few” said Lawrence, holding the bucket while the oxygen from the bucket depleted until he raised it up to reveal the still perfectly intact rocks underneath.

“See! Not one bit a wear n’ tear! Pretty special, right?” Lawrence turned looked up towards Robert Evans.

The coal baron hid his amazement by biting his lip and muttered “Special indeed.”

“Well, waddaya think? Pa told us these would be worth a fortune, how’s 600 sound?” Lawrence named a tall price, all part of negotiations.

“No, no, this is certainly impressive, but 600 is too much for a novelty, I’ll be generous with you and give you 300.”

“That’s a done deal!” The men shook hands, and after the money was exchanged, he paid Ursa and said he still had “some details to deal with really quick” so she and Agatha could go back to the room or wherever they wanted now.

Ursa met up with Agatha nearby, and excitedly told her about how the plan had worked, how they had enough money now to buy the things they would need to live for a while. Agatha asked about Lawrence, but Ursa said they shouldn’t expect him to hang around for long after the job, he was clearly a man with no interest in roots, ready to leave at any time.

“Guess that doesn’t make him very different from us.” Agatha commented with a sympathetic smile.

“huh… guess not.” Commented Ursa, made somewhat aware of her cynicism.

Meanwhile, Lawrence was making the “real” part of this plan come to fruition, he brought mr. Evans(at his request), to the “source” of the “charbon eternél”. A field of bare stone around a dark cave, were he’d half-buried, just conspicuously enough, dozens of painted rocks just like the ones in the bucket he carried, he counted on the baron’s arrogance to make him believe Lawrence wouldn’t see the potential something like a “mine of ever-burning coal” could have to completely destroy the current state of the economy.

“Here it is mister, this is where Pa found ‘em, spent 25 years looking for ‘em, he did.” Lawrence said, pointing around the area on the outskirts of town.

“I see,” said Robert Evans, “the site of such an interesting find should definitely be preserved, would you be willing to sell it to me for about 500 pounds?”

“Fahve hundred! Why that’s too kind, sir! I’d love to give it to you, I’ve been trying to get off this town and make it in the big city.” Lawrence rapidly shook Evans’ hand, keeping up the farce that he was the one being tricked with a lower value than this could really be worth, his plan had worked perfectly.

Lawrence went back to his room, with a score like this, 600 pounds all to himself, he really should take the chance to exit the scene as quick as he could, before anyone caught on and came to ask him for refunds.

He put his suit back on and gathered his things, his clothes, his sleeping bag, his toothbrush, his switchblade, any trace of the time he’d spent here, the only thing he left behind was a note with “good luck out there, don’t look for me.” For the people who had been his roommates for the last week, he pushed a pang of guilt at giving them such a small share of the score and just disappearing without a word away with the thought that this was just “the game”, and he’d just learned to play it well.

Lawrence thought a bit about where he could go now, probably somewhere with a big market and lots of gullible tourists. Yeah, that’d be good for a few more months, maybe even a year and a half.

After picking out a town south of where he was, he bought his ticket and waited inside the station, it would still a few hours until the train he’d booked came, but he didn’t want to risk any unfavorable encounters by walking around outside.

Unfortunately that didn’t stop two burly men, who he recognized as the coal baron’s bodyguards, from coming up to him and telling him to get up and come with them. Ok, a little snag, nowhere to just run away, no trains for a long time, but it’s fine, he can weasel his way out of this.

They brought him into an alleyway, where he met mr. Robert Evans again, he didn’t seem upset, but was definitely not friendly, as soon as Lawrence saw him, he started saying “I can explain,”.

“So,” interrupted the baron, “It appears to me you were not fully honest with your description of this ‘ever-burning coal’, were you?” He showed one of the painted rocks with a part broken off, showing the gray center.

“Alright, you got me, I was trying to pull one over on you, you’ve gotta know it’s a common thing around here, that’s the game, and you won! I’ll pay you back with 50% extra, promise.”

The coal baron took a step forward, smirking at Lawrence dropping the façade he’d adopted when speaking to him. “I see, but I think I have a better idea of how you could… reward me for this “win”. Would you mind telling me how you got that fire to keep burning that long?”

“It was the alcohol!” Lawrence sputtered out, “I-it is mixed with a slower burning substance that kept it bright longer!”

“Seize his hands, please.” The two bodyguards grabbed onto Lawrence’s arms, he was shoved to the ground, bruising his chin and getting his arms held behind his back, his left glove was pulled off, revealing crimson-red fingers.

“Ah, the devil’s hand, I suspected it when I noticed your gloves were the only thing you wore on both occasions where we met, so I think I know a way you can repay me even better:” Evans put his foot on top of Lawrence’s head, pressing it to the floor. “You see, I happen to know there’s a 500 pound reward for capturing your kind, dead or alive, so along with taking back the money you stole from me, I’ll be making quite a big profit.

Lawrence tried to look forward, find something he could do to escape, at the end of the alleyway, he could just barely see two girls in new clothes, one of them in a wheelchair, maybe it was Agatha and Ursa! They could help him, right? No, he left them before, and maybe they even knew he’d lowballed them, why would they risk their lives for someone like him?

“Anything to say for yourself, monster? Aren’t you gonna squirm some more? Or can you at least face death like a man”

He couldn’t find anything, after all, he’d tried everything before, nobody ever listened, ever saw him like a person after knowing what his hands meant, they called him a living timebomb, a danger to society, he’d grown used to it by now, he could try to burn them all to death, become fitting of his description, use this supposed power that had made him a target all his life…

Before he could finish weighing if he’d rather risk trying to escape while they dragged him to the local precinct or give up on trying to subvert their judgment of him by just leaning into the raging fire, the weight over his body suddenly disappeared as Ursa launched her whole body with a burst of steam it into Robert Evans, her elbow connecting with his back and the force throwing him into his bodyguards and knocking them off their feet.

“Can you run?” she crouched down and asked him while untying his wrists.

“Certainly better than the alternative.” Lawrence answered, already getting up onto his knees and putting his gloves back on.

They ran out of the alley and Lawrence followed Ursa as she wheeled Agatha out of town and towards the nearby woods, he didn’t know where they were going but if they had a route to get away from here it certainly beat staying.

When they came to a clearing, the young man had a hard time believing what he saw, a two wagon train in the middle of a forest.

“Get in!” Said Ursa, lifting Agatha’s chair onto the train as Lawrence followed them inside

“I don’t know if I can give it liftoff, last time we were already in the air when it manifested.” Agatha went to the train’s caboose and lifted herself to the conductor’s chair, focusing on visualizing the train in flight as she’d seen before. The train started moving as its tracks began to form, but it couldn’t quite accelerate quick enough to beat the upwards incline, the boiler made a roaring noise, like a starved tiger crying out in rage.

“Shit, I forgot to get any actual coal while we were out!” said Ursa, looking for something flammable she could part with, maybe they’d have enough time before someone came for Lawrence to go out and cut down some trees.

Lawrence clutched his own arms, hesitating a bit to do something he knew would be an unnecessary risk, but he owed at least some help to these people, right? “You’ve already collected the necessary water for the boiler right?”

“Yes, we’ve even already filled it, we just need a flame to light it,” replied Agatha, still concentrating on trying to move the train through her sheer will.

Lawrence pulled back his sleeves, he didn’t want to burn them with an effort this large, he extended his hands into the boiler and flames entirely engulfed the inside of it, barely licking at his forearms. The heat quickly started transforming the water in the boiler into steam, launching the train into motion forwards and upwards.

Agatha and Ursa stared at Lawrence’s hands, marveling at the beauty of the flames and their incredible power before Agatha had to focus on guiding her machine and Ursa had to hold on to avoid falling over from the sudden acceleration.

 After they’d picked up some good altitude and speed, Lawrence pulled his hands out of the boiler and turned to look out the window, seeing the world from above for the first time, right here, it felt like nobody could hurt him, no one could look down or him or hunt him down for a strange birthmark he never asked for, it was beautiful.

“So…” He turned to Agatha, “how long can I stay here, could you at least drop me off at the next town you come to?”

“Oh.” Agatha didn’t turn away from the blue sky she was plowing through, “You may leave if you’d like, sir, but you’re welcome to stay as well.”

Lawrence did a double-take, why would anybody take this risk? Put their own lives at stake sheltering a man who could never not be a target for the rest of his life? “Really”

Ursa came up to him, tapping him on the shoulder, “yeah man, we’re not throwing you back out there.” She pointed at the town, now tiny from the window of the train.

Lawrence smiled, putting his forearm in front of his eyes, maybe to shelter them from the sun, or to shelter himself from showing his watery eyes.

“Thank you.”

[catnip-smuggler-radio]

Candlelight: Part 3

(Fight between Haname and Yimir in true fighting game style.  Hope you all enjoy! :D  Warning, long. Lol.  As always Haname is @repose-and-run char) Yimir rose from his feet and studied the man before him.  Not a bell ago, the man had rested at the feet of Nald’thal, ready to enter the god’s domain of death. The man in question was an old regular of Yimir’s, back before he’d entered into negotiations with Ostreaux about working for the elezen’s organization and his alone.  Yimir would be joining a organization for life and he was still uncertain what he’d do; but for now he was here, aiding an old friends soul.  A soul that was not for collecting today.  Yimir had pulled the man from the great beyond and allowed him to live a bit longer.  Yimir took a long sip of water from a flask.  The effort of healing the man’s wounded form had taken a lot out of him and he was weary now.  He slowly pulled his grey robe up over his bandaged arms and shoulders.  The healer looked at his own, bandaged hands and marveled at how someone as insignificant as himself somehow could keep life inside a ruined form through will and aether.  Did he defy the Wheel of Fate, or was he a part in its great machinations? He doubted he would ever know.  He glanced out the window of the small apartment that overlooked Pearl Lane.   It was night already…

The night was dark and full of terrors. Not really, but it was full of crime and shady individuals. The Masked Moogle crouched atop an old, rundown building in Pearl Lane, face hidden behind a Magitek mask and Moogle katana strapped to her side. She wore a gaudy white coat and boots, true to her namesake, and what looked like a Moogle plush dressed as a Taoist floated around her. She didn't have her signature pigtails. No, that'd be way too obvious. After all, how many other grown women wore their hair in pigtails? Not many. It was the perfect disguise. The mask she wore warped her voice and hid her aetherial signature. And the outfit she wore was way too flashy and cool compared to her usual wardrobe. She was a real vigilante now-- No. She was a superhero, stalking the alleys of Ul'dah to fight crime.

"He'll need a few days rest an' den needs tuh take it easy all healed up meow." Yimir said as he stepped out the door of the small, building into the Lane. "Just keep him relaxed." With that, the blonde shut the door and turned to walk down the street. He was dressed in a white, cotton shirt over which was a large, grey robe and a polished, leather bandolier across his chest. Thigh-high leather boots covered brown riding pants and a large yellow-and-black plaid scarf was wrapped around his neck and lower face. He moved slowly, keeping an eye out for any patrolling Blades. They were a rare sight around these parts but anyone moving in the lane past sunset was up to no good.

The Masked Moogle noticed movement from the corner of her eye. She tapped the side of her mask and the screen of it zoomed in to the area she turned her head towards. She couldn't quite make out a face due to the large hat and scarf, but she knew the area well enough back in her moko smuggling days where each crime den was. And that was definitely a crime den. She looked the suspicious figure up and down, and judging by their conversation, he was probably a medic. Getting up from her crouched position, she followed after the man from the rooftops, pausing only to send her Moogle companion out. The Moogle plush fluttered down and twirled happily around Yimir, its little Taoist robes fluttering in the desert breeze. "Where are you going, kupo? What have you been up to, kupo?" It asked in its irritatingly adorable voice. "My name is Gohan, kupo! You look suspicious, kupo!"

Yimir stopped and waved his left arm to shoo the moogle away. He couldn't believe he was running into a moogle of all things! What was the world coming too? "Begone ye little one." Yimir ordered in a mildly annoyed manner. Certainly he felt no threat from the intrusive creature as they were known to be silly drunks more than anything else, but the creature was loud and could garner him some unwanted attention. "I ain't done nuttin' but take a walk. Shoo!"

 "Ain't done nuttin', kupo?" Gohan quoted, floating down so it was almost nose to nose with Yimir. "What kind of nuts, kupo? Kupo nuts? There were some shaaady men back there, kupo. Ah! Watch out, kupo!" And then Gohan zoomed off, flying several feet up into the air above Yimir. The distraction was provided and the Masked Moogle leapt off the building right above the blonde Mi'qote, nearly landing on top of him with her katana drawn. "Alright, kupo." She said in a low voice, which really wasn't needed since her mask warped her voice to a much higher pitch anyways. "Hands up in the air. I know what kind of shady business you've been dealing with, kupo. I need you to come with me. Peacefully." She paused. "Kupo." She added to the end.

 "I said buzz off ye-" Yimir's ears perked as he heard something above him. He couldn't tell what it was but his tail poofed in a sign of danger and he leapt backwards, pulling a small kukiri made from bone out of his robe. He landed on both feet and tensed his entire body as he held his weapon at his side. He peered at this new arrival as if it was a coiled viper. There was no joy in his mismatched eyes as his tail swished behind him. The vigilante's words further soured his impression of her. He had no intention of complying with her orders and he spun the dagger around a finger by its o-ring. "I dun know who ye are, but I ain't goin' anywhere with yeh. So either ye move out de way or...we gonna have ourselves some trouble."

Yes Yimir. Sound tough. You are sooo badass.

 "Heh, so you really won't come peacefully then, huh kupo?" The Masked Moogle said with a small tilt of her head. "Well then.." She sheathed her sword. "I am the Masked Moogle, Champion of Justice!" She struck a pose. "In the name of the Mog, I shall punish you!" Another pose. Was that necessary? No, but she had been wanting to do it for a long time now and what better opportunity to than now? She held the pose for a moment longer as Gohan slowly descended back down, shaking its big, fat Moogle head.

 The blonde male stopped spinning his knife, almost cutting a finger off as he stared in dumbfound wonder at the woman's posturing. Was...was this for real? Was this seriously happening? Was this person really challenging him to a fight while acting like a gosh darn moogle and posing like she was a power ranger? He blinked and it took him him almost a minute to manage to form som sort of reply. "Are...are ye for real? Ye seriously want...but…Do ye do this often or sumfing? First time? Cause aint heard of ye." FIGHT BEGINS! QUE MUSIC!

"Hah! And clearly your first time if you've never heard of me, kupo!" The Masked Moogle was bluffing. But she had been down Pearl Lane enough times to know she had never seen this loser around before. And the fact that he hadn't straight up shanked her. "You're as green as they come, aren't ya kupo?" In a flash, she drew her katana again and well... threw it straight at his head.

Yimir had been expecting her to do something. -Throwing- the gosh darn katana, however, HADN'T been near the top of that list. He was saved by muscles and sheer instinct alone. He leaned back, flailing his arms behind him and sensing the world in slow motion as if he was dodging bullets in a video game. The weapon sailed over his head, the blade gleaming along it's polished edge in the moon's light. The healer watched it sail a mere ilm over his nose. And then it was gone. Yimir pulled himself upright and stood there, honestly surprised his himself and actually thanking his dad for making him do yoga. He was very bendy. But his wonder didn't last long. He glanced at the woman and clicked his tongue. Using his aether, he connected with the elements instead of his normal spells. His holy flames would be too obvious. Instead, he waved his hand and a gust of wind blew down the Lane and tried to slam into her feet and knock her onto her butt.

The gust of wind was strong. But not strong enough! The Masked Moogle had been hit by things worse than a little gust. Like boulders, shovels, and angry Highlanders. She butterfly-kicked into the air, doing a little spin like a Moogle would. Speaking of Moogle, Gohan was chanting "fight, kupo, fight, kupo, fight, kupo" the whole time. Landing on her feet again, she raised her hand and whistled. Unbeknownst to Yimir, her ridiculous looking katana was Magitek -infused and came boomeranging back around towards the back of Yimir's head a second time.

 Yimir twirled his kukiri a few times and had taken a step forward when the pommel of the katana smashed into the back of his head. He jerked his head forward as a loud thwack filled the air from the impact. He used his free had to hold the back of his skull as he glanced between his golden locks at the bizarre sight. A magical katana... This was turning into a very weird evening. "Alright buttercup." Yimir muttered, rubbing his sore skull as he stood up. "Let's wrap this up." Yimir snapped his left hand. Two chains of gold would spring from the ground like twin pythons and try to wrap themselves around her torso and pin her arms to her sides.

"Hah! Not today, 'cuz I'm not here to stay!" The Masked Moogle rhymed as she leapt up just in time for the chains to miss snagging around her. She paused briefly and added, "..Kupo." She caught her katana midair and dashed forward in an attempt to shoulder-tackle the Mi'qote with.. well, not quite full-force since that would be a dead giveaway, but with at least strength to knock the air out of him if she landed a hit.

"Oh great, and it rhymes." Yimir muttered as the moogle warrior came at him with her weapon drawn. Her bravado how made it clear what her goal was and he simply side stepped her raging charge. As she ran past, he very casually stuck his foot out to trip her.

"KUUUUPOOOOOOO--" Followed by a loud, audible thud as the Masked Moogle fell face first into the ground and with the speed she had been charging at, she tumbled several feet away. Her mask nearly slid off from the accident as well but fortunately, she had her back to the medic and quickly adjusted it before ripping the Moogle adornment on her katana and promptly hurling it at Yimir. It made a little 'kupo' squeak and as it sailed through the air, the Masked Moogle pressed a button on her mask. Soon after, sparks of lightning began to fizz out from the ornament. If it successful in landing on the blonde, it would send him into quite a shock! Literally.   Yimir was very smug as he heard the vigilante eat it on the stone street. Not that he looked. No he turned his back and began quickly shuffling away, eager to put this odd person and their moogle obsession far behind him. This desire for an expedient exit, however, proved a poor idea. A few moments later, he sensed the electricity behind him. The hair on his tail poofed again and he yelped out loudly: "Don't taze me bro!" But, alas, Haname did not listen and the blonde was tazed. His entire body convulsed and his muscles tensed. He collapsed in a heap as the moogle adornment bounced away.

"Hehe! Watt did you think of that, kupo?!" Horrible puns are horrible. But that didn't stop the Masked Moogle. "That one was on the house, no charge! Or maybe there was a charge.. of the shocking kind, kupo!" She laughed obnoxiously and proudly at her first feat as a superhero, dishing out justice and puns in equal measure. Stepping forward, she picked up her Moogle adornment and attached it back onto her katana before reaching down to drag the shady looking medic up by the back of his scarf and attempting to snatch off his hat to get a better look at her victim.

"What's going on here!" came the call of a tall, broad hyur. A moment later two armored Brass Blades clanked around the corner and into sight. They had been drawn by the sounds of illegal justice. Yimir looked at them with grateful eyes as he wiggled away from Haname as she tried to pull his scarf away. "Officers!" Yimir wheezed. "Help! This crazy person assaulted me!"

"Officers! I'm just doing my due diligence here in helping enforce the law, kupo!" The Masked Moogle claimed, loosening her hold on the scarf though she didn't quite let go of Yimir yet. "There was some criminal activity here, kupo! Arrest this Mi'qote!" Gohan floated itself around, adjusting its hat. "And if worst comes to worst, kupo, officers will make some nice bail money!" The plush piped in.

The hyur and lalafel looked at the scene, then one another, then the two unaware family members. They drew swords and pointed those pointed ends at duo. "Alright you weirdos. I don't know if you are Quicksand fuck buddies or fighting for gil or what, but both of you, drop your weapons, put you your hands in the air, and we'll go down to the station and sort this all out nice and easy. Sound good?" Yimir did not think that sounded good. Not at all. Seriously. He'd just gotten a big ol' Yakuza tattoo on his arms and was willing to wager things would not go well for him. Especially seeing as this was technically terf belonging to a different 'Little Star' and might rub some of his superiors the wrong way, supposing he lasted long enough for word to get out. Brass Blades did have their reputation after all.

"Officers, you got it wrong, kupo! I'm a good person, kupo!" The Masked Moogle threw her hands up defensively. Somehow, she knew it'd go something like this. After all, she had dealt with plenty of Blades before, on Frandrin's payroll or not. And with this knowledge, she knew this would not go down well. She quickly gave another whistle and suddenly, crashing down from the rooftops came a Magitek motorbike. It vroomed and roared and she hopped onto it without a second thought and promptly zoomed off, leaving the Mi'qote to fend for himself.

Yimir covered his head as the Brass Blades threw themselves aside as the bike slammed down onto the earth. A roar of the engines and a moment later the mysterious kupo crusader was gone. Yimir, coughed as a blast of moogle exhaust hit him as he got to his feet. He took a few steps when one of the Blades blew a whistle. The young miqo'te groaned as he turned and waved his hands. A powerful sleep spell slammed into both Blades. But it was too late. Even as the pair of Blades fell over in a heap, the sounds of incoming boots could be heard. Eager to not be here when the Blades arrived, the blonde took off down a long hallway that entered the palace. Soon, the male vanished among the many long, weaving corridors, left only to dwell upon his very strange evening and the very strange silly person out hunting down criminals.