#is this well-trodden area

[souenkun]

I loooove the jp fandom's headcanon that geeta and larry are childhood friends who met during their time in the academy and, sometime in the future, geeta personally recruited larry to work for the paldean pokemon league, as she must be one of the first people who knew of his prowess in pokemon battling! Like yeah, the whole geeta being a "strict boss who is frustrated by larry's stubborn insistence to be an average worker that she has to assign him different workloads just to broaden his horizon" idea is intriguing, but stepping it up a notch by making geeta be the "best friend a.k.a the only one who has seen larry at his very best and his very worst, and knows for a fact that he could excel at anything he put his mind into if he steps out of his comfort zone, so she doesn't particularly drag him out of said zone, but pushes him out of it each time she can because she can't bear to see her best friend be unaware of the good chances and positive things that awaits him out there, not if she has a (small) say in it" is also downright hilarious 😭🤚

[nehswritesstuffs]

Peer Review

Something about this sort of scenario seems just so Law to me and I can't really put my finger on it, even after writing it out, so here we are.

3227 words; starts off with a 19yo Law and all the self-righteous fury contained therein (Penguin is 21, Shachi 20, and Bepo 15, for comparison); I’m sure that some people have done something similar but it’s my turn with the football now I guess; may or may not work within canon, idk yet, try not to think about it too much; maybe get an additional editing pass after I sleep idk on that either

Peer Review; Law is sick of watching all of Flevance's contributions go to waste, which leads him to take drastic measures: passing board exams.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Uh… are you sure this is a good idea…?” Penguin wondered. He watched as Law was hunched over the table in the Polar Tang’s mess hall, furiously completing paperwork. His captain did not answer him and that only made him worry more. “Cap…?”

“Ignore him,” Shachi droned from the kitchen. “You’re never going to win.”

“This is not about winning—this is about him being delusional.”

“No, what’s delusional,” Law said, slamming his pen down on the table, “is that these uptight twits playing at doctor think they can just ignore an entire plethora of medical and scientific achievements simply due to the authors getting in the crossfire of a genocide! They know they’re not publishing the truth in these fucking jokes they call medical journals! It’s like peer review means that they just skimmed it over right quick before putting it to press! If they had any shred of ethical acumen these works would be known and referenced!”

“Literally none of us have ever seen you more upset and it’s kind of scary,” Penguin mentioned. “I mean, you’re sounding like you’re about to vomit a thesaurus.”

“What I am about to vomit is the contents of my stomach because they are ignoring my parents’ work!” Law retorted. He gestured over to the wall, where a knife had been Shambled into the metal as it held up a journal that had been stabbed through the center. “I remember reading it! I was there! My parents let me read over it to check for typos! And we’re talking about one of the medical associations that turned me away as a kid!”

“Yeah, and what is passing boards going to do about it?”

“Give me an in.” Law went back to the paperwork, manically filling everything out to the best of his ability. He put together what he hoped was an impressive resume, hoping that it would be enough to convince the licensing committee to allow him to sit the boards without going through all of med school on-island first. If he was pressed, he probably could have figured out how he knew more than the average fourth-year med student by the time he was eight years old…

“Hey everyone! News Coo’s here!”

“Shit!” Law scrambled to sit up and run over to the hatch of the Polar Tang, where Bepo was waiting on the top deck. A News Coo was sitting idly on the railing, resting itself as it stared at the pile of mail in Bepo’s paw. Law took the envelopes from the Mink and began to sort through them, finding one small, discreet letter amongst ad leaflets about a WEJ news subscription and Shachi’s naughty Sora, Warrior of the Sea fan zine.

A letter from the licensing board.

Law shoved the rest of the mail back towards Bepo and tore open the envelope. He read it over three times, with his friends divvying up their own mail in the meantime.

“I got my in,” Law marveled quietly, voice barely above a whisper. He turned towards his crew—his friends—his brothers—and laughed. “I can take the exam!”

“You what…?” Shachi blinked in confusion. “What was all that paperwork for then?”

“Red tape that they want me to come in and fill out, but I already got the jump on them so they can’t pretend like it doesn’t exist.” Law put up a Room and popped the paperwork, a pen, and an envelope to the deck, replacing it with the letter and Shachi’s zine. He ignored the complaints as he put together his response and stuffed it in the envelope, putting it in the News Coo’s bag before the bird took off.

Now, it was off to Lvneel.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“You have an… interesting set of credentials,” the woman at the desk frowned. She let her eyes flit from the papers in front of her to the boy sitting on the other side of her desk. He was trying to not fidget, though it was also apparent that the attempt at looking serious was just something unfortunate his face did. Not only that, he looked so young, even if he did have patchy facial hair filling in on his chin and cheeks. So young and so unsettlingly familiar…

“All worth its weight, I can assure you,” he replied. “The gap I can explain by having worked out in the field, which I’m told is often worth as much as thrice the same amount of time in the classroom.”

“True… but without verification, I can’t really say that this is as solid as you claim, not to mention the fee…” She watched as the boy took some money from his inner jacket pocket and placed it on the table. “A bribe…?”

“All the admissions fees, up front, in your hands, now.” He stared her down as she counted it—not a beri out of place. “There is nothing barring me from taking the exam.”

“You’re feisty—I like you,” she smirked. “You’ll mostly be a pain to the other departments, which to me is honestly enough reason to let you through. You just have to remember something.”

“Anything.”

“Lvneelish people don’t take kindly to being made fools.” The boy froze, seemingly afraid he was caught in some sort of lie, and she chuckled. “I don’t know who you are, Wittman Lars, or where you really came from, but just remember that if you’re going to go through with this, then make it good. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the boy nodded. He looked cowed, as though he rarely deferred as such. She watched as he bit his lower lip in thought, slipping further away from the headstrong confidence that he had walked in with. “If I pass this exam, I can submit studies and critiques to the Greater Lvneel Medical Journal, right?”

“It would be within your right, yes.” She raised an eyebrow at the boy, who looked much younger in that moment than she was comfortable with. “I won’t ask your reasons, but is that why you are sitting this exam?”

His silence was all the answer she needed.

“Then get out of my office—collect the necessary paperwork on the way out.” She handed him a slip of paper with a stamp on it, which he stared at incredulously… as though he didn’t entirely believe he was holding it. “Exams are in three weeks; a failed exam can be retaken in six months. Not reporting forfeits your right to another chance for a year. Cheating bars you for five years. Any other questions will be answered by the secretaries; now leave.”

It took a moment for the boy’s brain to catch up and he scrambled up from the chair and scurried out of the office like a scared animal unsure of its limbs. She nodded to herself, wondering how many people would see in the boy what she saw—hopefully not too many.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Three weeks?!” Penguin griped. They were in the small rented house they had found on the outskirts of the city, far enough away from the main of Lvneel to not attract too much attention. Shachi was already getting dinner prepped while Bepo was helping Law sort through medical books at the kitchen table. The eldest Heart Pirate had just gotten home with the shopping when Law dropped the news on him.

“That’s when it is; can’t change it,” Law replied. “I’m surprised the registrar let me do any of it at all.”

“This is going to eat into our savings, you know this,” Penguin frowned. Shachi wordlessly took the bag from his hand and procured the seal meat that was going to be the night’s dinner. “We don’t have that much.”

“I thought the haul we got from those Kueni assholes was more than enough to let us coast for half a year in a more central part of town,” Law reminded him. Penguin only folded his arms in response. “Besides, it’ll do us good to be on land for a bit, and the Tang’s not that far away if you want to visit her.”

“She’s a ship, not a woman.”

“Yeah, but same rules apply.” Law opened a Room and moved a fresh stack of books to a nearby shelf. “We’re going to be here long enough for me to sit the exam and get a hold of my certification. If it takes that long, then it’s going to take that long.”

“You’re fucking nuts if you think we’re going to stay under the radar the entire time.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t.” Law handed Bepo a book and pointedly did not look at Penguin. “I think she recognized me.” His crewmates all stopped to stare at him in horror.

“Wait, what?!” Shachi snapped. “Cap, don’t tell me you’re going to get us all busted because of this!”

“We won’t,” Law assured. “They can’t prove anything, not until it’s too late, and once I get my license they can’t strip me of it unless a malpractice suit comes up against me or there’s an injunction, both of which take time.”

“It’s bad enough Bepo’s a bear—don’t apologize Bep—but someone recognizing you?!” Shachi put his hands on his hips while their kid brother whimpered. “We’re literally hundreds of miles from Flevance. Why do you think this lady recognized you?!”

“Just a feeling,” he shrugged. “People travel for work or pleasure; medical tourism was a thing where I grew up; I’ve got a Flevench face—any number of reasons.”

“For fuck’s sake…”

“I told you,” Penguin said, gesturing at Law as though he wanted to add a “see this shit” at the end.

“Then leave,” Law deadpanned. He handed another book to Bepo, who put it in the appropriate stack. “Nothing’s stopping you. The door’s right there.”

“Yeah, but why would we leave Bepo alone with you?” Penguin scoffed. “He needs an adult.”

“I am an adult.”

“Tch; barely.”

“…and whose idea was it to beat the bear up?”

Okay, he had them there, but…!

“Are you going to hang that over us forever?” Shachi groaned.

“As long as I need to.”

“Then I say I should be able to hold my arm over you in retaliation,” Penguin sniffed. Law simply acted as though he hadn’t heard his eldest crewmate, continuing with sorting his study materials. “It still gets tingly, you know.”

“That’s because you probably have carpal tunnel, not because of anything I did,” Law replied dully. “I’d fix it for you if you let me near your arm next time you experience localized paresthesia.”

Penguin and Shachi exchanged an exasperated look before looking at Bepo, who shrugged helplessly. The sooner they could get their captain off this rock, the sooner he’d be less of a dick, they supposed.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

While the crankiness that the Hearts dealt with as Law was studying for his exam was unbearable, the exam itself was even worse. Law sat in the large room with dozens of other applicants; it was warm and stuffy and smelled like burnt coffee and body odor. He was the youngest person in the room by-far, which was something that he knew others noticed. The uncomfortable feeling of eyes on him raked against the young man as he sat at his seat and readied himself alongside all the other candidates. He knew that not only was he not someone who had been through courses with everyone else there, but he looked different—like his father—and there had to be at least a few people in the room aware enough to put two and two together. The Doctors Trafalgar had both done plenty of talks on neighboring islands, after all.

In both an instant and forever, the exam was done. The room was made to put down their pens and Law began to panic, knowing there was too much test left. He put all the papers in order in their folder and handed them in despite his nerves. Before he realized it, the teen was vomiting in the bushes outside of the university hall, Penguin and Shachi holding onto him while Bepo wrung his paws in distress.

“What the fuck has you like this, Cap?” Shachi wondered as Law finished dry-heaving. The younger man was still shaking unsteadily within his grasp.

“I… I couldn’t finish the test,” he croaked, voice raw. “They kept staring at me… and I couldn’t even finish…”

“Maybe they design it so no one finishes?” Bepo offered.

“That doesn’t help,” Law moaned. He stood up and weakly shook off Penguin and Shachi. Neither of them backed away, which he took in stride. “I still just sat an exam I didn’t finish—I always finish my exams.”

“Last time you finished an exam you were ten,” Penguin reminded him.

“Nuns don’t make it easy,” Law reasoned as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Something sat in the pit of his stomach, seeped into his empty stomach and weary heart, and he frowned. Fuck… of all the things… “I don’t think I passed.”

“Can’t you retake it?” Bepo asked.

“In six months,” Law replied, “and I don’t want to stick around that long. We can’t afford it.”

“We’ll get there when we get there,” Penguin assured. “Now, what are we going to have for dinner? I’m fucking starved.”

Law laughed awkwardly as his friends began to discuss their dinner options, thinking that his sitting of the boards exam was cause for celebration. He allowed himself to be dragged along to the celebration, despite not feeling much like partying or eating, and spent the entire rest of the day and into the evening trying to calm himself down the best he could.

‘They know,’ he kept on thinking. He felt hyper-aware of everything—of everyone—as they sat in a pub with food and beer for the rest of the night. Bepo even had his first drink, much to the bear’s disgust, and provided the other two goobers with entertainment that lasted for hours.

“C’mon, Cap,” Shachi chuckled, his words on the verge of slurring. Law had lost count of how many beers any of them had, yet it was not enough for him to not cringe as his crewmate threw his arm over his shoulder and leaned in. “You gotta loosen up at some point tonight.”

“I don’t really feel like it,” Law replied for what was likely the dozenth time. “I don’t even really want to be here.”

“I don’t either,” Bepo squeaked. “I feel sick.”

“You barely finished your pint!” Penguin scolded.

“I’m sorry! It just tastes so gross!”

“Your first few pints are supposed to be gross.”

“I don’t think how it’s supposed to go…”

“Ah, we’ll make a man out of you yet,” Penguin scoffed. He looked at Law over the rim of his mug and shrugged. “Eat something; you look like you’re going to pass out.”

“No.”

“I don’t really think it counts as mutiny if I act for the good of the captain,” he reminded him. Law rolled his eyes and busied himself with one of the whale fritters that were still on the table. “Good. Now, what are we going to do about those bounty hunter-looking types across the room that have been eyeing us for about an hour?”

Okay, it made him feel a little better that it wasn’t just something that had buried its way into only his brain. He watched as both Penguin and Shachi went and stood, the pair deciding to let their captain and navigator sit this one out—they had to take care of the kids somehow, and this was something they definitely knew how to do even when drunk as they were.

Law went and Shambled some takeaway boxes to the table—he was not letting whale fritters, fries, and Flevench-style croquettes go to waste because the idiots got into some trouble.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Three days passed by slowly. Painfully. It almost made Law go completely mad. He sat in their rented house the entire time, pacing the floor. When he wasn’t pacing, he was bouncing his leg as he sat, or tossing and turning on his bed, or just being restless in general. It was enough to make his crew crazy, almost wishing they had waited out the results while on the Polar Tang. In fact, Bepo had to sit on Law in order to keep him from rushing to the door when the mail courier arrived, leaving Penguin to get it and Shachi open the envelope.

It didn’t matter one way or the other—he passed.

…he passed, but with a caveat.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“I NEED A STAMP! DOES ANYONE HAVE A STAMP?!”

Law’s shouting fell on deaf ears as the rest of the Hearts rested on the beach of the island they were docked at. He needed just one more to take care of the Coo fee and it seemed as though his reserves had run dry. At least it seemed as though the News Coo was taking advantage of the delay, the bird relaxing in the sun of the Summer Island’s Spring.

“DOES ANYONE HAVE A STAMP?” he repeated, doing his best to allow his voice to carry. No one paid him any heed; there was plenty to do with their time on land that facilitated the accidental ignoring of their captain. Sunbathing, volleyball, splashing in the water, setting up for the night’s big barbecue/bonfire… it was looking as though the crew was going to have a great afternoon on the tiny spit of an island they were resting on.

Except, suddenly, Law opened a Room and swapped his crewmates with a bunch of barnacles that had not yet been scraped off the top overdeck, dropping everyone rather unceremoniously onto the wooden planks.

“Ow! Hey! What’d you do that for?!” Ikkaku snapped.

“Since no one listened to me the first time, I had to resort to drastic measures,” Law reasoned. “Does anyone have a stamp? The Coo’s waiting.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, I got it,” Clione griped. He went below deck, returning to the rest of the crew being back on land as he held a postage stamp towards his captain. Law took it and attached it to the front of the thick, buff-colored envelope along with four others before offering it to the News Coo. The bird regarded it sourly before squawking in resignation, allowing Law to put it in his bag. “What’s it about this time, Captain?”

“Vitamin D intake in correlation to heavy metal poisoning’s effects on the Human body,” Law explained as the Coo flapped off. “I needed so many stamps because I included two copies.”

“One by Trafalgar Law about Amber Lead and…?”

“…one by Doctor Wittman Lars about arsenic and mercury,” he admitted. “I don’t think the case study about Jean Bart’s tinea pedis and its correlation to his days in captivity is ready yet; still needs some refining in regards to outlining the causation.”

“The entire world isn’t ready for Jean Bart’s feet; subjecting Lvneel to it is just plain cruel,” Clione shuddered. “The snail photos you had me take still haunt my nightmares.”

“Be glad you weren’t around for the Bed Bugs or Mange Debacle,” Law reminded him. Clione nodded silently in reply—all he wanted from that was the stories and he didn’t even really want those.

[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls in Your Area

Chapter 1

“A cult?” Jason blew out a bubble and enjoyed the disgusted face that Bruce made.

“Yes.” His voice was tight. Jason could tell that he wanted to turn back to the Batcomputer. “They’re operating in Park Row-”

“Crime Alley.”

Batman sighed and accepted the correction. “I would like to propose a joint operation.” He sounded so tired and not very optimistic.

Jason eyed up his on-again-off-again Father figure and popped his gum, thinking it over. Bruce clearly expected him to say no, fuck off, and take the information himself.

He could. There was nothing wrong with that.

“Sure, old man.” He clapped Bruce on the shoulder and finished screwing together the tool he’d brought in for maintenance. He’d had to fabricate a new part and the Red Hood didn’t exactly have the equipment for that in his two room apartment. “Thursday night alright?”

“They’ve a planned meeting on Wednesday, actually,” Bruce said, frowning slightly at him but looking soft around the eyes with confused hope. “Would that be possible? They seem to gather mid-week.”

Jason let out a sigh. “I can make it work. Ta, old man.” He made sure to toss off an especially insouciant salute as he sauntered away. Sure, he was willing to put a little effort into maintaining their relationship, but he couldn’t be too compliant. If you gave Bruce an hour of your time, he wrote you down on the schedule for an hour every day until one of you fuckin’ died in a warehouse explosion. Something like that.

He wasn’t that trusting, though. Jason took the information that Bruce emailed him and did his own legwork. He wasn’t stubborn enough to bother redoing digital work that Bruce had done or gotten from Babs. That would be a waste of his time, and he valued his time. But he scoped out the cult’s meeting place.

Of all the undignified things, it was a rented room in the community center. Jason found himself sheepishly breaking into the office to check on the reservation and poking around the room itself.

There was nothing special about it. It was a shitty room with shitty paneled walls and cheap, well-trodden grey carpet. It boasted a few too many tables, arranged in a U shape, and a whiteboard pushed up against the wall that hadn’t been cleaned off well enough to erase what he was pretty sure was a reference to their lord and savior, destroyed of worlds.

So. That was a point for Bruce’s cult thing.

He hadn’t really doubted it, if he was honest, given that this had originated in a tip from Zatanna. She had told him as a courtesy that some creep had moved their base of recruiting and operations into Gotham.

Apparently, recruitment was going pretty well. The room could seat like, twenty? Jason counted chairs and left.

He came back on Wednesday at 8pm with the Batman and an attempt at a good attitude. He probably wasn’t going to need any of the weapons on his person. They were going to check in so that this guy knew they had an eye on him and that he would be suspect number one if there was any hint of people or cats being sacrificed.

Bruce fucked off to peer in the windows, like the giant caped creep he was. Jason took the front door, nodded congenially at the old man in the office, and knocked at the room the cultists had reserved.

He could hear Bruce internally curse through the comm. It was silent, of course, but the quality of the silence changed. “Knock knock,” he called, since a literal knock hadn’t done it. He opened the door without waiting. “Just checking in, heard you’re new to town and that you tried to feed Zatanna’s shitty little cousin to the god of Death?”

The room stared at him. A whiteboard marker squeaked to a stop. He idly followed the sound to the board. A …. Huh. that looked like some kind of mystical bullshit.

“You’ve been touched by death,” said the fraud himself, a man in his fifties with a wildly pretentious robe that was wrinkled from the paper bag he’d clearly used to carry it in. He outstretched the hand that didn’t have a blue whiteboard marker in it. “You would be a perfect sacrifice to our Lord.”

“So will it be,” said about half the people there, at the same time a young woman said, “No shit?” in an impressed tone.

Jason rolled his eyes through the helmet, unintimidated by the room of weirdos standing up. The kind of people who gathered at a community center on a Wednesday night were not going to summon the God of Death. Light glinted off the window where Batman was clearly weighing the possibility of breaking glass and swinging in. Jason silently waved him off with a headshake. They weren’t to the point of property damage yet. He took a couple of steps into the room with deliberate swagger. “What a lucky guess,” he drawled. “The Red Hood has had brushes with death? No one but a legitimate prophet could possibly make such a statement.”

“I’m not a prophet,” said the man, and turned back to his white board. “I’m a devote.” He rubbed out a line with the meat of his hand and then hurriedly wrote in ‘The Red Hood’ in a tilted cursive. “The sacrifice!” he shouted, throwing his arms wide and accidentally making a big blue line through his evil little sigil or whatever it was. The elderly lady to Jason’s right opened up her bag, thrust her hand in, and came up with a fistful of -

“Salt?” Jason asked, confused and unimpressed as the silly twit threw her handful of salt at him. “Thanks, I’m better seasoned now,” he snarked. He pulled out a gun easily. “Alright, let’s get serious. I-”

The whiteboard was glowing. The blue letters were glowing green.

“What the fuck?” Jason said. The windows exploded with broken glass as Batman decided now was the time to make his entrance. He barely got to see it before something hooked unpleasantly on his body and soul and twisted it sideways.

The world was green now. Holy shit. Jason spun a circle on uneven ground and gaped. “...Egg on my face,” he said. “I’ve been sacrificed. Consider me embarrassed.” A quick check showed that his comm was useless. It was giving off a steady little eeee of static that kinda sounded like screams. Whimsical. Jason turned it off.

He wasn’t panicking yet. The void wasn’t that freaky. It was weird, sure, but there weren’t any demons or enemies. He flicked the safety off his favorite gun just in case and frowned into the darkness.

It was like he was standing under a spotlight with no light source. There was ambient lighting in all directions, but the world faded into darkness only a few dozen feet away. He took some experimental steps to determine that, yeah, the field of visibility traveled with him.

Well. Time to get moving. Jason walked. There was nothing for the first - hour, he was gonna call it an hour. He got antsy and started jogging. The green stretched on, placid and infinite in a way that was really starting to piss him off. “Hey!” Jason barked into the void. “Anyone there?”

There was an answering electronic whirr. He stopped in his tracks. Jason looked in every direction, including up, and only saw the fucking thing when it was basically on top of him.

The vehicle was probably most equivalent to a spaceship, he decided, as what was probably a 3-man craft at most parked. The top clicked. It opened from the top and someone bounded out. “Hey!” came an annoyed male voice. “What’s the deal, bud?” The stranger landed in front of Jason with crossed arms and a pissy expression. His white hair floated above his head as if he was the little fucking mermaid in the ocean.

Jason scowled, the back of his mind cataloging the other guy’s outfit as pristine and undamaged and his musculature as athletic. “What’s it to you?” he asked, defensive. He didn’t know if it was safe to give information to this guy. “I might be a little lost,” Jason conceded.

“A little lost,” the guy repeated, and then- okay, he flew in a weird little flippy circle, scowling all the while as Jason gaped. “A little lost.” He scoffed. Then he let out a sigh that made his whole body look smaller. He uncrossed his arms and ran a hand through his hair. “This is a weird question,” he said, making it sound more defensive than apologetic. “Did you uh.” He scowled, like the words were distasteful. “Look,” he tried again. “Are you delulu, or did you get caught up as the sacrificial bride? I told Frank to knock that shit off.”

Sacrificial bride. Jason felt his brain go offline for a moment. Say what now.

“Helloooo,” the… was this rando a god of death? He was impatient. He flew way up into Jason’s personal space and snapped his fingers. “Someone just smashed metal trash bins together at my grave to get my attention, basically. No, it’s more like one of those spam pop ups that says there’s hot girls in your area?” He made a gesture at Jason. “Only it’s loud. It’s ringing in my ears, and I had to come track you down. Do you think this is funny?”

“...Sacrificial bride?” Jason finally managed to croak out.

Weirdly, this made the other guy relax immediately. “Just found out, huh,” he said, sounding much more sympathetic. “Yeah, okay, we need to sort out a spiritual divorce immediately. And then you can go home and there will be no more hot girls in my area and I can get back to my ess- my work.”

Jason took a few moments of grief and confusion to accept his apparent status. “We’re married?” he said weakly.

The white haired man looked a little sheepish. “Marriage is probably not quite accurate,” he said, and Jason felt a little bit of relief before the guy continued, “It’s more like you’re my concubine?” He sounded mortified by this. “I didn’t want this!”

“No, no,” Jason said, meaning both that he believed it and that he needed this conversation to change directions immediately. “I- who are you?” He gestured at his– what the fuck was the other side of a concubine relationship? King was the associated word that came up, but that…

“I’m nobody, really,” said the white haired man weakly. “But I may technically be King of ghosts or whatever. The Infinite Realms.” He scratched at his face. “So… yeah.”

They stood in utterly mortified silence for a long moment before he seemed to remember something. “You can call me Danny,” he offered.

“...Call me Jason,” he said.

“Thanks, Jason,” Danny said genially. “So, uh, this is a mess, right?” He started floating away backwards. “I’m going to hunt down my mentor and advisor and get some uh- advice, I guess. Do you wanna come with? Or should I come back and check in once I’ve heard from him?”

Jason weighed up his situation, the conventional wisdom about getting in vehicles with strange men, and wondered how useless his gun was going to be in this situation. Danny had never reacted to it being pointed at him, so his guess was ‘utterly unhelpful’. He put it away. “I’d like a ride, thanks,” he said dryly.

They made some stilted conversation on the ride. Danny was clearly trying to hold back and give him no identifying information. That was fascinating, because it implied that there was something Jason could do from the human world to track Danny down. It was also reassuring because there was no reason to withhold information if he’d planned to keep Jason prisoner, so, ya know, that was a good sign.

Anyway, Jason got a lot of information from Danny.

Danny was a terrible liar and he misspoke like, all the time. Jason was pretty sure he was in the ghost equivalent of school, like college or something. He talked like someone in Jason’s age group would, so he’d probably died very recently. Maybe he had been a college student when he’d died and he just hadn’t given up on that degree yet, honestly. Jason managed to drag the conversation around to education. He got nowhere with asking about literature but he hit the jackpot with science. Danny was still babbling about a telescope when he landed the …ship outside of a wonky clocktower.

Jason took off his safety belt and froze in his tracks when Danny absently stopped him with a cool hand. Jason looked down at that hand.

“You had better stay here,” Danny said. He shook his head slightly. “Clocky doesn’t like everyone.”

He melted into the chair as if he had never wanted to get up. “Alright,” Jason said.

Danny was out of the spaceship by the time that Jason realized something was very wrong with that interaction.

He hadn’t decided to sit down. He hadn’t wanted to sit back down. Did- did he actually think it was reasonable to stay behind, or would he have argued and gone in normally?

‘...I think Danny did something.’ Suspicion swirled in his gut. Jason tried to take the safety belt off and stand up. He couldn’t. It was like his muscles wouldn’t respond to it.

Well, that was pretty fuckin’ evil. His pulse picked up in his throat. It… It was some kind of compulsion? He had to do what Danny told him to do? That was really fucked up. He was starting to feel really unsafe now. He wished he’d hung back with Bruce. He wanted someone to bring him home. And weirdly, he felt betrayed. He hardly trusted Danny, didn’t know the fucker well enough to, but he hadn’t gotten that impression off the guy–

‘It wasn’t him,’ Jason realized. ‘It was the binding ritual. Danny said it wasn’t like a marriage, it’s not equal. That’s why I did what Danny wanted me to do.’

Well. Well then. If Danny didn’t know that Jason had to follow his orders, Jason was most fucking certainly not going to spell it out for him. It was a grim calculation to make, but it seemed the safest. As it was, Danny seemed to want to get rid of him as fast as possible.

So that was it. He’d play along and get Danny to spit him back out into Gotham, a young hot divorcé free on the streets.

[neesieiumz]

𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑼𝑩'𝑺 𝑨𝑷𝑷𝑳𝑬 || ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ

summary | stuck in a small town, kento takes a leap and takes a cooking class at the town's only apple orchard, and changes his life forever.

warnings | nsfw. 18+. minors do not interact. fluff-angst-smut with a happy ending. like i wanna make this really sweet but this has also its own plotline. It gives Hallmark Movie. cfo!nanami who hates the city life. female reader. afab reader. apple-orchard owner!reader. smut. cunnilingus. missionary position. he falls in love with you at first sight. yuuji, nobara, megumi, inumaki, maki and yuta all work at the orchard as well. ex-boyfriend!toji. good-dad/person!toji. family drama. family problems. mentions of emotional abuse. nanami's father is mentioned (everything about him is not canon, so don't worry.) your uncle is not a good person. oc characters. mention of oc characters death.

notes | this is all thanks to @ohkento (who also beta read for me 💞) and @todorosie when we were venting about new nanami fans and talking about his characterization as well lmaoooo. lulah brought up the idea and it's been stuck with me ever since. i also wanna thank @tteokdoroki for being my writing partner during this. NOW ON AO3

word count | 44k

What good is a man, if he is a lost man?

Life passes by, the wind’s breeze carefully blowing past the chimes of life. An out-of-body experience, ungrounded, unholy. 

Unneeded.

Kento Nanami has always done what he was told, nothing more and nothing less. Following the hardened orders of his father’s stern voice. As he grew as tall as the trees in his grandmother’s backyard, all he had was the virulent words of his father to guide him. All he could do was listen. His words were like the poisonous apples Snow White ate, which led to her demise, yet unlike Snow White, he did not have the seven dwarves to help her, nor had any opulent royal figure to use an idea of love’s first sight and kiss to help him. All he could do was eat and chew on the sulfuric skin of the apple, the acerbic flesh of the fruit, hoping the nutrients underneath it would pull him out of his anguish. His hope was for naught. For all it did was make his battered mind complacent, his personality turned hostile to those who first met him. 

His eyebrows furrowed, his eyes glowered, sulking, hunched over. He trodden to school and back to the desolate home, empty and devoid of any life. Forward and back, again and again, nonstop of eating and upon the apples of his words. All his formative years, after the tragic loss of his maternal grandmother, the last connection to his mother was held and molded in the hands of his father. His father would have never even raised him, if not for his grandmother’s passing. The dreams and hopes, the soft words she instilled into him, crushed, and pressed and squeezed out of him. His father was a hydraulic press, and he was the unassuming apple, placed underneath and squeezed of all life. 

Middle school. High School. All went by a blur for him, because it was all the same, a simple change of location was the most “provocative” thing that happened to him during those times. 

University… It was different, but the same in a way. 

He studied finance, and the only choice he had was to have his father support his education. It was the one area of study he had the least amount of the vitriol for. He was away from home, his school a whole two hours away from home. However, the expectations were still the same, the already diminutive trust between father and son wavered about the more and more he pulled away from him. He was given a semblance of freedom…but what was he to do? When he would ask himself that question, all he could hear was the voice of his father, repeating every rule and word he spoke throughout his life. Even two hours away, it is like he never left. His father was the voice of his consciousness. His father was his inner voice, and with nothing else, all he could do was listen. It was the reason he accepted Satoru Gojo’s invitation to work with him, the moment they graduated high school. His “incisive appliance of finance” according to many of his professors, was what his family business needed. One could not go two steps without hearing about the famous Gojo Conglomerate. 

This is it, everything we have been working for. His father’s voice was loud, it overpowered his thoughts. 

It is the reason he went on to take up the highest position in the company’s financial department, within the executive floor, all financials held his final say. And just like that, it was like middle and high school over again. He went to work, and went back home, home to his desolate home, empty and devoid of all life. Every week, he would send money to his now-aging father, who renovated his room as quickly as cheetahs ran through the river. It didn’t matter, he had a lot of it, and that was the goal at the end of the day, right?

What good is a man, if he is a lost man? If he is a lost man with money, good for everyone but himself. 

The air smelled of spiced fruit, cinnamon, and nutmeg. He stood amid a bustle within the square of the town. In his hands, held a steaming cup of tea in his hands, watching as the steam billowed from it. He still wonders how he got here, in the middle of a small town. His other hand tucked into the pocket of his new jacket, protecting himself from the cool temperature of the climate. His other hand wrapped around the cup, lifting it up to take a sip of the warm drink, feeling flushed as it heated him up temporarily, feeling it pool in his stomach. 

As he walked, not knowing where he was going, he could feel his phone burning holes in his pockets. The device reminded him of the reason he was here, a favor to his boss/friend if he can really call him that. More of a benign tumor that never seems to let him go. If there was one thing about Satoru Gojo is that he never fails to see how far he can branch out, to see just how many pots he can put his hands in. Doesn’t matter the time or the place, if there's an opportunity, he’ll take it. 

This is why, once again Kento Nanami is here, in the small town of Aquarine. He still had no idea as to why he was here, only given a phone number and an email address from Gojo. So now, all Kento could do was take his newly given week off, waiting for this “business venture” to come through. 

Lifting his head up, his brown eyes landed on a crooked wooden sign, with the letters burned into each wooden, chipped arrow, each pointing in different directions. To his left, where he just came from, three different signs pointed to an attached line of small businesses and shops, giving off the names including the name of the cafe where his tea came from. However, only one arrow pointed to the right or straight-ahead for Kento. He took one glance, seeing nothing but a dirt and bare road. He looked back at the sign, before seeing the cursive, beautiful lettering singed into the wood. 

Honeyed Orchards. 

An orchard. He could not lie to himself, his curiosity was piqued, and he could not remember the last time he’d ever stepped into one of those before. Lifting his left wrist up, he took a glance over at the time from his extremely expensive watch, a gift from Geto for his 27th birthday. 4:27, he saw the ticking hands currently landed on. Once again, he had absolutely nothing to do. So with a breath, seeing the condensed steam blow out from his nostrils, he shafted the scarf around his neck before turning his feet towards the dirt path.

With every step he took, the more he left the small town behind, soon surrounded by nothing but dirt and plainlands stretching out for miles. With no distraction from the bustle of the holiday season in the small town, all he could do was focus on each and every step in front of him. He lifted his hand, taking another long sip of his tea. He felt the glow of the setting sun to his right, as well as the cool breeze of the frigid fall, soon turning into winter. Kento could feel the nip of frostbite tickling against his ears, seriously regretting not buying a pair of earmuffs. 

He took another sip before his eyes caught onto something in the distance, a mangle of things. As he walked closer, the first thing his eyes caught was a fence, silver and tall, almost six feet tall. That said, the fence also had spiked wiring twisted along the top of the fencing. His eyes then moved to the trees, stationed not too far from the fencing. There were a lot of trees, each spaced a few feet from each other, so you could walk in between each one. The area was big, at least from the one side Kento could see. The orchard must have taken up at least two to three acres from one side, which he could only estimate how big it was. 

His eyes caught onto something along the side of the road, seeing what seemed to be a large sign anchored right next to the front fencing of the orchard. Once again, a foreign curiosity grappled at him. The moment he got to the sign, he turned his head to see exactly what it said. 

It was a chalkboard sign, with huge blocky, bubble letters that said, “3RD WEEK OF COOKING WITH THE BOSS, SPACE IS STILL AVAILABLE, PRICE: $75. COUPLES/PAIRS $85. FAMILIES $95. THIS WEEK’S DELICACY: APPLE PIE BARS. SEE MORE INSIDE.” Around the words, Kento could see different drawings and designs around it, enticing people to come and learn how to bake different things with them. 

He saw a bee buzzing around, with little track marks detailing his tour from the drawn honey pot as well. There was also a bunch of apples, all different colors, drawn at another corner of the sign. It was sweet and very cute. His eyes then glanced up, seeing the opened fence door, with a paved brick and windy road, with a few cracks into it, leading up to steps to a home. A beautiful terracotta color was what caught his eye first. Glancing back at the sign, he soon made his way towards the house, his oxfords hitting again the brick pavement of the orchard. He soon made it up the stairs, before his eyes landed on the sign right underneath the doorbell. 

Welcome to Honeyed Orchards

Hours: Mon to Thurs – 8:30 to 5:30. Thurs to Sat – 9:30 to 7:30. Closed on Sundays. 

Knock twice before entering, please. 

He then lifted his hand, knocking twice before moving on to the doorknob, slowly twisting it before pushing the door open. Immediately, he was hit by the intense smell of rich red apples, and the strong scent of currant and sweet cinnamon as well. The interior was spacious, the walls nearly covered head to toe with a mixture of three different holiday decorations, yet it seems to have made it work. The floors were wood, glossy, waxed, and clean, to the point where they could see his warbly reflection. To his left, he could see stairs right next to an open space, with a sign that said, “Welcome! :-)”. 

Stepping inside the space, the wooden floors are now covered by a soft carpet, red in color with multi-colored designs on it. The walls had bookcases pressed against the theme, filled to the brim with different titles. Scattered around the room were comfy couch-like chairs, with decorative pillows as well. 

“Hello!” a voice suddenly called out, startling him just a bit. 

Swiftly, he turned his head to his left, only to see a decently sized desk, with someone standing behind it. A boy, no more than sixteen years old, standing behind it with a huge smile on his face. He had pink-spiky hair, with crescent-shaped marks underneath his eyes. Kento walks up to the desk, taking a glance at the young boy before looking at the signs behind him.

Pick-your-own tour – $70 per person 

Catering/To-Go Menu

Apple Custard Tart → ||1 tart → $3 || 5 tarts → $7 || Dozen →  $16

Apple Donuts → || 1 donut → $2 || 5 donuts → $6

Dozen → $15

Apple-Pomegranate Cobbler – $25

Apple-Rum Spiced Cake – $45

Apple Upside-Down Cake – $35

Double Crust Apple Pies – $20 per pie

Fried Apple Pies – $20 per pie 

Honey-Spiced Apple Cider -> Pack of 6 – $9.95 || Pack of 12 – $20.95

Pomegranate-Glazed Apple Fritters -> 1 fritter → $1 || 5 fritters → $6 || 12 fritters → $14 || 24 fritters → $26

He could feel his stomach turn in hunger, glancing at the menu, before looking at the worker who stood in attendance at the desk. 

“Welcome to Honeyed Orchards, do you wish to go on a tour or buy a cake?”

The flash of the sign outside came into his mind, “I saw a sign outside about these classes, and to sign up–” The boy, however, cut him off, his face full of excitement as he began to type away at whatever computer was in front of him.

“Oh yes, yes yes, Cooking with the boss! They take place every Thursday, after business hours from 6:00 to 7:30, is that okay?” Kento said nothing, shifting weight in between his body before nodding his head. 

“Then, I'll sign you up right now! Can I have your name?”

“Kento Nanami.”

The boy– Yuuji, from his name tag—began typing it in before taking a glance up at Kento. 

“You’re not from this place, are you? I think I would have remembered you?”

Kento lifted his eyebrow up, before nodding shortly, “I’m not… I’m here for… business.” He spoke, taking the last sip of his tea before crushing the cup in his hands. 

Yuuji’s brown eyes glanced at his hands, before bending down underneath the desk and pulling out a trash can, “you can put that in here if you need to.”

“Oh,” he was a little taken aback at the amount of pleasantry in his voice, “thank you.”

He threw his insulated single-use cup away, Yuuji smiling before focusing back on the computer. 

“Sorry if it’s taking a minute, this is my first time behind the desk,” Yuuji said, squinting at the screen below him.

“No worries, please take your time, I’m not in a rush.”

The two of them soon exchanged light words as Yuuji tried to figure out how to pull up the classes to sign him up for them. Yuuji mentioned how three of his friends and some upper-class peers from his school all work here, all scattered about the land, doing different things. 

“The boss is in town right now, along with Megumi, my friend, getting the last ingredients for tomorrow’s class— Oh here it is!” Yuuji fist-pumped, a huge smile on his face causing Kento’s own lips to upturn slightly at his high energy. 

“Okay, that will be 75 dollars!” he said, in turn pushing Nanami to fish his wallet out of his jacket pocket.

Flipping it open, he pulled out a clean and crisp 100-dollar bill from his pocket before giving it to Yuuji. 

“Keep the change,” he said immediately, taking the receipt from his hands, as well as a brochure of instructions as well. 

“Oh thank you, and see you tomorrow at 6:30!”

Kento turned around, giving Yuuji a small wave before walking away, soon exiting out of the cozy home. It was like his steps caught a new wind as he made his way back to his inn room within the town. He didn’t know what it was, why he felt this way. Was it because he had something to look forward to? Ever since he stepped foot on that Orchard, something within him twisted and turned the more he thought about it, but yet also something warm began to bud within the coldness of his heart.

Hmm… He’ll blame that on the tea he drank.

The next day arrived, and Nanami found himself walking past the sunset, on that same dirt path on his way to the Orchard once more. His hands were empty this time, tucked in his creme pants as he eyed the orchard house he had just in yesterday. The moment he walked up the stairs, not bothering to look at the sign before knocking twice and opening the door.

The first thing he noticed was the voices echoing throughout the foyer. Scattered about were about 20-24 people, maybe even more, all mingling together. The lights were dimmed, on account of the darkening sky outside as he stepped inside the house fully. To his left, he could see an erected table, with trays of what seemed to be apple-related snacks as well as both a clear pitcher as well as a metal insulated one. Taking a moment, he walked over to the table, taking one of the many paper plates before looking at everything offered, each with a sign indicating what they were. Apple turnovers, chocolate cookies, brownies, etc. He took a little bit of everything before making his way to the pitchers where they each labeled respectively “hot” and “cold” cider. He took a paper cup before putting it underneath the spout and filling it ¾ of the way. 

He stood in the background, watching as these people who obviously look like they’ve grown up together, have their own conversation. There were people across the board, old and young, and there looked to be at least two different families here as well. Lifting up the sweet delicacy, he took a tentative bite, eyes slightly widening at the taste of the soft, sugar-crusted pastry, as well as the juiciness of the apples within the desert. He took another, bigger bite, each one better than the last one. The soft, buttery flakiness of the turnover pastry only enhanced the flavor of the cinnamon and sugar-glazed apple filling. 

Before he knew it, he was already reaching for another piece, the one in his hands gone. Taking his next bite, a noise caught his attention, and the people around him, as he looked up to see Yuuji, the boy from earlier in the afternoon who signed him up, standing there. He wore a red apron and had a wide smile on his face, hands clasped in front of him. 

“Welcome once again everyone, you can all follow, and please wash your hands at the back of the room, and we can go ahead and get started!” He announced, waving for the crowd of people, families included to follow him. 

In an unmannerly-like fashion, he stuffed the rest of the pastry in his mouth, using his hand to cover up his boorishness before following the crowd, being the last one to walk in. The room was bright, the overhead lights all on the fullest setting. From what Kento counted, there were twelve tables, six tables on each side with a middle aisle. Each table has two sets of ingredients, possibly two people sharing one table to make as much room as possible. First, keeping safety in mind, he followed behind and made sure to wash his hands thoroughly, before making his way to the tables. 

Eying the table closer, he can see laminated cards, folded in half into something that reminded of his name plaque back on his office desk. Walking around the tables, cautiously not catching the eye of anyone who was taking their place at the table. He soon found his own name, which was last name only, his eyebrows furrowing at the sudden misspelling of his name. 

‘Nanamin’ It seems that someone must have miswritten his name. 

Nonetheless, he took his place, eyeing each of the ingredients, all carefully weighed out and in place. Multiple bowls, each containing either, sugar, both brown and white, and flour. Plates that contained butter, were each carefully labeled as salted or unsalted as well. There were many other ingredients as well, each carefully placed into three categories, Crust, Filling, and Toppings. In the middle of all the ingredients was a laminated piece of paper, a recipe, printed on beautifully-designed apple greenery-inspired paper. 

Kento sits down on the stool, and just as he’s about to scan through the recipe itself, the door opens. 

“Welcome everyone,” a new, unfamiliar voice calls out to the room.

The rumbling of the room rested as Kento heard footsteps very close to him. His eyes glanced up, and he stopped. 

Beautiful was his first thought, his brown eyes watching as you made your way to the front and center of the room, standing in the middle of the blackboard that held the words, “Today’s desert, Apple Pie Bars!” 

You were wearing a black apron, french-retro, and skirt-like, with two short layers of a ruffled skirt. Said apron had apples, red, yellow, and green designed and scattered all against it. Despite the evident datedness of the apron, it was obvious that you kept it in good condition. Underneath the apron, you wore a simple red-plaid shirt, with dark jeans as well, and paired with a simple pair of black boots. Your hair, long braids with loose curls at the end, was pinned and packed up by a huge black hair clip. 

Your smile was wide, accompanied by glossy lips as you greeted the class in front of you, introducing yourself as well. The moment he heard your name, I felt something within him shift, something clenching at his heart. The heat was rising in him as well, he could feel his fawn skin being tinged with red and pink. Kento coughed under his breath, using his scarf to muffle the sound, taking deep breaths to calm the boiling inner turmoil within him. 

“Welcome to the third class, and I think I speak for everyone when I say this is definitely a class everyone has been waiting for. Apple Pie Bars is definitely something everyone around town enjoys,” you speak, beginning to pace around the room. 

“A delicious snack, for you, your kids, friends— trust me, there’s very little people that don’t enjoy these.”

You winked, and Kento couldn’t hold back his smile as the room erupted into a burst of short laughter as well. He faced forward, sitting down at the provided stool as you continued on your introduction. 

“Alright, first let’s begin with our crust, the oven’s are already preheated and be sure to make sure you have an oven-safe label so we don’t mix anyone up!”

He followed your every instruction, watching you as you stood at your own table, Yuuji right beside you, as you showed hands-on what to do. His hands felt sticky and pasty as they mixed the flour and salt into the wet ingredients. There were spatulas and some tables even had electric mixers involved but your words, “I prefer to use my hands, which is why clean hands are really important for this step, but putting in that extra effort makes them taste just as good,” made him at least want to try. After all, he would be the only one eating these bars after all. 

Soon after, watching how his dough consistency was similar to yours, he spread the mixture onto the greased pan, pressing it until it was smooth against the silver pan. On the sides, there was a symbol, a pair of glasses taped to the sides. This must have been the symbol that made his pan different from the others. One by one, everyone lined up, with him at the front, they all placed their trays into the ovens, already preheated and ready for them. Once everyone was in the ovens, you turned on a timer, before facing the class again. 

“Next is the filling, which requires the mini stove in front of you, each person will be sharing one of course, but there’s enough room for everyone to use it at once!”

He glanced down at the mini stove, seeing two pans on his side of the stove and seeing another two on his table sharer’s side as well. Suddenly, the door closest to him, the one that you came out of opened up, and suddenly people, teenagers all about Yuuji’s age, five in total, rolled a cart in front of them. They all wore the same apron as Yuuji, and each had their own name tag. 

“My lovely assistant and employees will happily pass out the apples,” you said, everyone watching as they all grabbed a bowl from the cart before passing them out, placing two bowls on every table. 

A girl with long green hair, and purple glasses placed two bowls on Kento’s table. He took a glance at her name tag, seeing the name “Maki” written there. Quietly, he thanked her, and she nodded her head, before moving on to the next table. Once they were all passed out, the incoming employees bowed, some of them smiled, and the others waved at you before slowly walking out. At the corner of his eye, he could see Yuuji waving at two of them, a boy with black spiky hair and a girl with a ginger bob on her head. 

“Now that we've all got our apples, fresh as they could possibly be, let’s move on to make our filling! Let’s turn on the stoves and start melting the butter that’s under the Filling category.”

The next steps, he especially watched carefully since he was now working with constant heat. He watched as the two skillets were used to make the same things, but no pans would be big enough for everything to fit in. He caramelized the apples and poured in water carefully to prevent the apples themselves from burning. As you work, Kento can see Yuuji moving behind the scenes, his eyes carefully watching all the pans within the ovens and seeing how the crust reacts under the heat. 

Fifteen minutes went by and the caramelized apple filling was put away in an empty metal bowl, with a plastic cover to keep everything warm. 

“Finally, we have the topping, which is, of course, optional for those who have an aversion or allergy to nuts. To those who opted for walnuts, please listen to my instructions,” you started, taking up the cup of crushed walnuts into your hands, 

Kento followed along as you toasted the walnuts onto the newly provided, clean skillet. The room soon began smelling nutty, and smoky as Kento watched his nuts slowly turn a golden brown, careful to make sure that the walnuts didn’t burn. He watched your every move and made plans to follow them. After the toasting, the stove turned off, and the pan holding the walnuts was placed in a heat-safe area. The next step was to mix the last of the ingredients for the topping in another bowl, carefully adding the chilled butter to it. At this, the timer beside you went off, and immediately Yuuji got to work, bringing out each tray of the crust to every table. 

The crust was golden-brown perfect and he could smell the warmth and comfort within the crust of the bars. He looked away, going back to his nuts and turning off the heat the moment he saw a tinge of dark brown-turning black at the edges of the nuts. After that, the final step for the topping was to mix the nuts into the cinnamon-butter mixture and massage it into clumps. 

“We’re at the final part, now everything else is as simple as pie. Just put the filling into the crust, smoothing it out, before pouring the topping on top of it before putting them all back into the oven for one more hour.”

An hour later, Kento was faced with a cool pile of freshly made apple pie bars. The room was full of a nutty apple scent, and everyone around him was speaking, some were taking premature bites of their desserts, Kento seeing them yelp in pain from the heat, but still smiling from the taste. 

“I see that you’re a new face.” Your voice was close, too close to him. 

Quickly, he turned around, his steps stumbling as he was suddenly faced with your beauty. 

“Yes.” Despite his suddenly beating heart, his voice was calm, a little too calm honestly, “I’m not from around here.”

“Oh, and what brings you to the little old Aquarine? Doubt there’s much out here?” You smiled at him, leaning against the counter, one hand laid across the counter, and the other pressed up against your face, holding you steady.

“Business, as a favor to a friend,” he spit out before he had another chance to think about it. 

Your eyebrows quirked up, “Business,” your eyes suddenly fluttered up and down, Kento’s spine straightening as your eyes looked back up at his face. 

“Yeah, you seem like the business type,” you hummed, but your smile was still unwavering. 

Taking a deep breath, he held his hand out, “Nanami, Namami Kento.”

You glance at his hand, before looking back at him, before your soft hand enveloped his hand, shaking it slowly, as you reintroduce yourself to him, this time with your last name as well. 

“So, you say you’re here on business, by the way that watch looks, I’m assuming it's very expensive business, huh?”

He glanced down at his watch, the expensive thing, and shrugged his shoulders, “that’s what I'm here to determine anyways.”

With a slow nod, you took in what he said before focusing your own attention on the apple bars he created. With one hand you pointed to them, looking over at him.

“Did you try one yet, or are they still too hot for your mouth to handle?”

Your voice teased him, a playful smirk dancing on your face. The feeling within him, an elated feeling had him reaching over to the metal tray, before picking it up and putting it in his mouth. To think he was just criticizing those who put the bars in his mouth before letting them cool. Luckily, his tongue didn’t suffer too much from the heat, and the nutty apple taste of the bars distracted him from whatever pain he was feeling. The crunch of walnuts mixed into the chewy cinnamon-butter topping, all baked perfectly, mixing in with the caramelized apples was perfect.

“Well, Mr. Nanami?” your voice airy, and the way you spoke his last name had his heart clenching in not only desire but unease. 

Once he was finished, he took the complimentary bottle of water, taking a few sips before facing you once more. 

“I was never a desert person until I came here, your recipes are incredible.”

Your smile suddenly became much more bashful, your smile wide as you looked away, “thank you, I may have come up with the recipe, but all the thanks belong to my grandmother.”

Your head tilted up, and his eyes followed your own to see an older woman in black and white photography, with features similar to you smiling there in an all-gray background as well. He smiled at the picture before turning back to you.

“I’m sure she’ll be very proud of you,” Kento states, picking up another bar before taking a bite. 

You smiled back at him, but before you could say something, suddenly the spiky-haired boy who came in early in the class pushed through the door near the two of you. Eyeing you, he walked up to you before whispering something in your ear. Kento watched your reaction closely to the teenage boy’s words, watching as your smile faded and the brightness in your eyes faded. Something was wrong, Kento thought. He put his bar down as he tried to step closer to you, but instead, you turned to him, a smile returning on your face, a fake one that reminded him of the one Satoru gave during very boring executive and chairman meetings. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Nanami, but it seems I have to cut our conversation short, but I really hope to see you around town.”

Before he could say something, you were gone, the boy following after you. He could only watch as you left, the lingering smell of red currant and amber following you. He could hold back the sigh, this unknowing feeling deflating within him the moment you were gone. Sighing, he grabbed the cover to the aluminum tray, covering the rest of his desert, before fixing up his scarf and jacket, smiling at the lingering guests before making his way out of the orchard, towards his inn room. 

Honeyed Orchards was your heart and soul. 

You were born on this Orchard's grounds, as were your mother and her siblings as well. These sources hold memories for you. When you would take walks with your family, you would often find yourself passing by the place where you first walked, on a picnic blanket, surrounded by your grandmother, your ailing grandfather, and your parents. Your father was a sweet, caring, and strong man from the few memories you had of him, and what your grandparents had recorded of him. You would see him, cutting down old rotting trees, taking huge baskets of apples with his bare hands, and carrying them back. He would often hold competitions with your grandfather, before he got sick, on who could carry the most baskets, your grandmother used to recount. “Your father would win, of course, don’t tell your granddad I said that, even after the grave, he would still say he won every time.” 

You would see your mother, holding you in her arms or in a makeshift carrier, helping your grandmother cook for the bakery, or even sometimes carrying baskets of apples as well. Her smile, the exact same as your grandmother’s, was always wide. Your grandmother always made sure to capture their love for each other, and their love for the Orchard your family grew up in as well. They had made plans for them to continue the work after your grandmother, and your grandmother had been happy, knowing that her eldest daughter and her husband would continue running Honeyed Orchards. 

They died in a tragic accident as they were driving back from the city. A date night, you remember that night as clear as day, you were ten after all. You stayed with your grandmother, helping her prepare for the bakery, making huge bowls of apple fillings for different pastries. It was nothing new, this was nothing new for you, yet everything changed the moment they died. The medical costs and funeral nearly put your grandmother under, and with little to no help from your aunt or uncle, your mother’s younger siblings, who left their small-town life behind. The two of you had no one but each other, you had lost your parents, the people who gave you life and were one of two reasons that you would smile every day, and your grandmother lost the only daughter and son-in-law who cared about both her and her life’s long work. 

Every root, every trunk, every branch, every flower, and every fruit that was borne from it, held deep, sustaining memories for you. All the good ones, and all the bad ones as well. 

So when your grandmother would eventually pass away, it was a no-brainer that she would give you the Orchard. You had just returned from four years in university, a stipulation for taking ownership of the Orchard, majoring in agricultural studies as well as a minor in business. That day when she passed away was a peaceful one for you, unlike your parents, you knew her time was coming much sooner. 

Two days after that was the reading of her Will, and in those two days, you would meet the person who would continue to hound you for the next five years. 

Your mother’s younger brother, your uncle who didn’t bother to lift a finger when your mother had passed. 

He believed that when your mother passed away, his older sister, he would get the Orchard, not even for a second believing that it would pass on to his niece. His niece who has never spoken a word to and has seen one (1) singular picture of when she was turning one. So when the town’s solicitor announced that he would only be getting a decent amount of her inheritance, but no Orchard, the man was livid. He had planned to contest the will, citing there’s no way that you, a young girl, could ever run the Orchard, However, your grandmother knew her one and only son and made sure that her Will was bound tightly, that there was no physical way for him to contest the will, and that the only way that he could be the orchard was through the very niece he despised. You. 

The youngest of your mother’s siblings, her sister, she was alright, not much to say about her. She knew she wasn’t getting the orchard, and she only recently started talking to her mother again, before she passed. Your aunt gave you a simple hello, a warning about her older brother and his relentlessness, and a simple goodbye, taking the check and heirlooms left by your grandmother before taking the next train back to where she lived with her wife and two kids. 

Ever since that day, letters, calls, and emails have flooded your inbox, all coming from either your uncle directly or your uncle’s people, who seem to deal in shady business and work. Every time, your answer was the same, that you would NOT sell your livelihood to him. You knew he wanted to make a quick buck off of it, but there was probably so much more history behind his resentment and indignation towards both your grandmother, her orchard, and your mother as well. 

Five long years, business is amazing, single-handedly digging yourself out of the hole that your parents' deaths had caused. Your orchard is the perfect place for school children within the city to take a field trip 45 minutes away to play and learn more about the life cycle of plants as well. You established both the bakery and gift shop. You worked hand in hand with the city for special events as well, and don’t forget the number of events, weddings, and birthday parties all taking place on Honeyed Orchard's grounds. 

Still, your uncle was unrelenting, as per your aunt’s last words to you, and even now after five years, you find your fences being vandalized, and random things found upon the porch of the main building/your personal home. He would throw salt all over the trees, most of them survived the attack but some of them would succumb to the salt, and you would have to cut them down. Threats in the form of pig's blood smeared across the doors, windows, walls, and porch wood. Multiple reports to the one and only police station in Aquarine, yet they could never be caught and you can only put many cameras on a huge property. 

One of the things you came up with was having cooking classes for one month out of the year, coming up with new recipes, and teaching it to people who really wanted to learn. Some families would use it as a time to bond with each other, couples would share a table and create their own connections to feed each other. By the third class, the same people were coming by…

So it definitely caught your attention when a blonde, handsome stranger joined your class. He was put in the front of your class, with only one name, which later learned was a misspelling of his last name—which you would blame Yuuji for— as he was in charge of the name cards for everyone. He wore a heavy blazer to protect himself from the growing chills outside, as well as a scarf and glasses. An air of what you thought was artiness was around him, the moment you laid your eyes on him as you were speaking. However, when you spoke to him, his voice was calm, and tranquil, this aura of artiness you thought he had, mostly likely a product of a growing nervousness, knowing how many people had their eyes on him. You knew he was the topic on almost everyone’s minds, seeing your students eye him and speaking in low-toned voices around him, hoping he wouldn't pick up on their conversations. 

Out of everyone, he followed your instructions to the tee, including using his hands to mix the crust of the bars, everyone else preferred the spatulas or mixers you provided. His apple pie bars are nearly identical to your own as well.

When class was over, you knew you had to take the time to talk to him, and luck was on your side when he seemed to be equally responsive to your words. Your grandmother used to call you “A Human Double,” to be able to almost accurately predict someone and their life just by simply looking at them, and what they were wearing. 

You smiled as he ate the pie bar in whole, watching as his skin turned a slight pink from the heat but easily watched him chew and down the whole thing. He called your recipe, “incredible,” a common compliment you heard almost every day but yet, coming from him, something within you kick-started as you saw him pick up another bar. Just as you opened your mouth, the urge to ask him if he was doing anything tomorrow, your optimism was shattered the moment you saw Megumi rush into the classroom, a very worried look on his face.

With no time, he whispered in your ear, “Your uncle is here, and he’s not leaving until he sees you. Yuuji, Nobara and Maki are doing their best but he has people with him.”

So now here you are, stomping out in the back, huffing and puffing, anger written all over your face as Megumi follows behind you. You untied our apron, easily throwing it onto the hook you kept it on before going through the back door where you found a growing commotion. The first thing you noticed was Yuuji and Maki stepping up to your uncle, their eyes furrowed, anger coursing through their systems. The next thing you noticed, as well as the first thing you heard, was your uncle and his people’s words, jeering and mocking the job each of them did. All of your employees excluding Megumi who was right behind you were surrounding them. Jogging down the porch, raising your voice but not yelling, telling them to take a few steps back. 

Hearing your voice, they turned around, following your instructions immediately as you stepped up in between your teenage employees and your deceitful uncle. Who stood amid his goons, hands tucked in the pockets of his oversized suit jacket. 

“Ahh, my beautiful niece, just who I needed to see.” He started, looking at you.

“You know, if you really wanna run a successful business, you shouldn’t hire people that berate paying customers,” His smirk was sleazy, and it gave you the creeps. 

You simply narrowed your eyes at him, crossing your arms, “you’ve been banned, multiple times, and been told to get off this property those times as well. So what, what could you possibly want that requires you to break those rules?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “not for long, when you finally sign over the property to me.”

You could scream, the amount of times you’ve been in this push-and-pull situation with him. 

“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not signing this property over to you! Now and your people can get out! It’s late and I have better things to do than to explain to a man almost three times my age that he can’t get everything that he wants!”

A fit of anger overtook your uncle’s face, “oh you little bit–”

Before he could continue, his hand raised up towards you, and a “Yo,” in a loud voice suddenly cut through the air. Everyone looked towards your right, seeing a familiar silhouette walking towards the two of you. 

“Dad?” Megumi called out, taking a step closer to see. 

Hands in his pockets, and a smirk on his face, Toji Fushiguro came through in between the trees, despite the cold, wearing nothing but a thin white long-sleeve shirt, and sweatpants, as well as a pair of sandals. It’s like the cold doesn't even exist to him. 

Toji Fushiguro, father to your employee, and ex-employee to Honeyed Orchards, the only one your grandmother hired when you went to college. 

As well as your ex-boyfriend. 

The two of you dated for less than a year, six months after your grandmother passed, by then Megumi was about ten years old. For a moment, you thought he would be the one you married, you established an amazing relationship with his son, considering that you were now his boss. However, the two of you end things amicably, after he realizes he’ll never stop comparing you to his wife, Megumi’s mother, who unfortunately passed away a few weeks after Megumi’s birth. However, he knew that he wouldn’t let up on checking up on you, especially with the number of times he had to step in while the two of you were dating when your uncle would do his usual taunts. 

Despite it all, your uncle was scared of Toji, especially with the way he almost tore apart his entire pack of goons one time, three months before the two of you broke up. Those three to four months were all quiet from your uncle until he heard through the grapevine that you two broke up and the taunts would start again. 

And now here he was, preparing to pick up his son and his friends for a weekend-long sleepover at his home. You took the moment to glance over at your uncle, seeing him begin to shake and sweat at the sight of the man who easily fought his people and can and will do it again. 

Toji stopped in front of everyone, “come here to get my idiot of a son and find a little rat and his pack of mice scampering around.” he smirked, his black hair shifting out of his eyesight. 

Despite his fear, your uncle puffed up his chest, before facing Toji, “this has nothing to do with you Toji, last I checked you and my niece broke up a long time ago.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting weight between your legs, taking a moment to glance at Megumi who only snorted while rolling his eyes. Toji, however, only raised an eyebrow, his anger slowly simmering and bubbling at the top. 

“Ha…? Didn't you hear me, I said I came to get my idiot son and his friends? This happens to be where they are, which makes this my business,” he hissed your uncle’s full name at the end of his sentence, “and even if he wasn’t here, Princess,” his nickname for you, “is still a good friend of mine. So yeah, it is my business. So I suggest you get out of here.”

His words held a steady beat but it’s obvious it’s filled with venom and vitriol. Toji’s anger for your uncle not only came from your dealings with him but from Toji's former employer, the only one to give him a chance after he was dealing with a moody ten-year-old and needed a fresh start and a new place. He and Megumi stayed in the very house you all stood in the back of for six months, while you were away at college until he could stand on his own two feet. 

There were memories for him that bore fruit here as well, and he’ll be damned if a man like your uncle takes that away from him. 

“Get out of here!” Toji’s words held finality, and everyone knew it was over. 

With a final glare, but luckily no other words from your uncle, he left with his pack of goons. Toji said nothing at first, making sure they were long down the road before officially turning towards you and the rest of your employees. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you started but he shook his head, 

“Yes I did, but I doubt it’ll be over when it comes to him. Didn’t even know he was in town again.”

You nodded your head with a sigh, pressing your fingers against your throbbing temple, “yeah, it’s never a good sign when he’s back in Aquarine.”

“And you have no idea why he’s here?”

With that, you could only shake your head, before turning to your teenage employees, telling them to finish cleaning up, get their stuff, and clock out, as well as telling them to enjoy their week off. You gave Toji a short good night, smiling as best as you could before turning around and beginning to walk up your porch. Their eyes were on you, shining to the brim with concern, including Toji’s own gaze but you couldn’t be bothered with them for the night, tired after teaching a class piling onto a long day of work. This entire interaction drained so much out of you, in so little time as well. 

Time lapsed, and before you knew it, you were recently showered, hair wrapped up, and wearing nothing but a thin, old nightgown flopping into your bed. Your eyes were heavy, and sleep was demanding of you, yet your heart hammered. An eerie feeling with the arrival of your uncle, on the same day, you met a very mysterious man who piqued your interest quite clearly. With a sigh, you turned your lamp off, snuggling into your heavy quilts and comforters, before easily falling into your dream world, dreaming of dark chocolate eyes and blond hair. 

The next day creeps onto Kento like a spider carefully procuring its prey, once again he finds himself within the square of the town. This time, he found himself walking outside of the cafe, holding the same tea had drank yesterday. The time now was nearly noon, and many people were either at work or school, it was basically empty. Taking a breath, he took another sip of his tea, savoring the taste as he glanced back down at his phone, watching the texting bubble between him and his conversations with Satoru and Suguru. 

Satoru: bleh, I'm glad I'm not the one there, that town seems like a dead end. 

Kento: The only really interesting thing is the Orchard, 

Suguru: when’s your meeting?

kento: in two days at 1:30, but I had nothing better to do so I'm walking around.

Suguru: in the cold? Your gonna get sick

kento: I’ll be fine, it's better than staying in my inn.

Suguru: Hmm, tell us how it goes. 

With a hum, he turned off his phone, closing out of the messaging and pocketing his phone once more. Once again, he found himself here, in the square. The faraway sun did nothing to help with the cooling temperatures, as he held the same tea in his hands as he walked along the sidewalk. Empty, most of the streets were, as people were inside resting up in the heat rather than walking in the frigid cold for any longer. Kento took a longer sip of his tea, sighing as he did he continued to look everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The little sounds he heard were his background noise, the one patrol rumbling down the street, and the sounds of doors opening and closing shut as well. Kento couldn’t help but give out a sigh, a familiar feeling of tedium overtaking him, much like the days in his office. 

“Mr. Nanami?” a voice, a sweet one called out his last name.

Eyes widening, a slight gasp leaving his lips, Kento turned around, frost air blowing from his reddening nose, only to see you standing not too far from him. You smiled, taking a closer step toward him. You were wearing large black thick-framed glasses on your face. Your long braids were pulled back into two low buns, with a few curls sticking out of the style. You were wearing all green, a beautiful emerald shade. A pair of pants that were skin tight at the top and loose as they made their way down your legs. As well as a simple skintight emerald green shirt as well as a brown crochet cardigan around your arms. A smile appeared on his face, standing up to greet you in full as your smile widened as he approached you. 

He greeted you, “it’s lovely to see you again,” his heart jumped when your scent hit his nose. 

“Lovely to see you again too, thought it was inevitable with how small this town is,” your legs crossed in front of one another as the two of you were only a few inches from each other. 

You took a moment to lean to your right, your eyes landing on the symbol on his cup, before glancing up at him. At the same time, he took a glance behind you, seeing your hand connected to the handle. Behind you, he could see a cart filled to the brim, large, clear glass jars, and plastic bags filled with things he could not see. 

“Running errands?” He asked you next, taking a final sip of his tea. 

You nodded your head, “yeah, there were a lot more things I needed but couldn't have time to get, had to get back in time to finish preparing for the cooking class, speaking of, how did you enjoy the apple pie bars?” 

He thought back to the half-empty tray sitting in the middle of his inn’s complimentary mini fridge stuck within the drawer. Your eyes light up at his short smile, and your smile widens as he mentions the current state of the desserts he made yesterday.

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed them, I definitely enjoyed creating the recipe,” you told him, pushing your glasses up on your face. 

Kento blinked, unable to keep his eyes off of you as you continued speaking, “Well, Mr. Nanami, I have to continue running errands, gotta prepare for the Viburnum Festival.”

“Viburnum Festival?” he asked, taking a step closer towards you as you began to turn away.

You blinked, turning back around with a bit of confusion on your face, “Yeah, the Viburnum Festival, there’s been signs for it all over town?” you spoke, before your manicured finger came up, pointing towards the sign Kento somehow was able to miss while taking his short walk around the town square once more. 

“It’s a town tradition, to celebrate the coming winter, we have one for every season, right here in the town square,” you said, turning back around, “I’m surprised you hadn’t noticed any of the excitement for it.”

He was shocked too, he was usually much better at understanding his surroundings, yet this town, and you, have rendered his ability to do that nearly impossible. Squeezing the insulated cup in his hand a little, he looked at you. 

“Guess I haven’t been paying attention to my surroundings as much, this is the first time I’m hearing of it.”

“Oh then you have to come!” you exclaimed, suddenly letting go of your wagon filled with things. 

However, in your sudden excitement, you had forgotten that the two of you were standing upon some sort of hill, and your cart suddenly started to roll away from the two of you. Kento noticed the cart rolling away before you, you realize a few seconds later, not even thinking before taking a few large steps, his hands grabbing the handle before it could pick up speed and rolling away from things that seemed to be easily breakable as well. 

“Oh my god, thank you! I completely forget that we’re technically on a hill,” you thanked him profusely.

He smiled, holding onto the cart before shaking his head, “it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“But back to our conversation, you most definitely have to come to the Festival, you came to Aquarine at a perfect time too. I promise that you’ll have fun!

He couldn’t lie to himself, the idea of going that sounded so crowded put him off a lot, but seeing the way your eyes glistened, wanting him to come to see what it was all about. His heart pounded underneath your stare and before he knew it, the words were slipping out of his mouth that he’ll come but only for you. 

“But,” he interrupted your sudden sequel, causing you to freeze mid-hop, turning your head to look at him, “you have to at least tell me what it's all about first, and stop calling me Mr. Nanami, Kento is just fine.”

The delight on your face mellowed out, before nodding, “I’ll do that, if you come with me to finish the last of my errands, Kento.” you teased his name, the tip of your tongue sticking out. 

And with that, Kento’s plans for the rest of the day were set. 

He pulled the cart, not wanting to strain yourself further as the two of you soon arrived at one of the few grocery stores within the town. 

“Usually, I buy all this stuff in bulk, but most of my shipments have been stuck underneath snowstorms within the north, so I’m buying everything in town until I can get them,” you explained as you walked in between aisles to pick up the different ingredients, herbs, and seasonings that you needed. 

“But back to the Viburnum Festival, it really started a few years after the town’s conception,” Kento listened intently as you suddenly swiped a few bottles of ground cinnamon into the cart you were pushing. 

“My grandmother was seven years old when it started, so it’s been a while, but the reason this town was founded was for people who had no home to find a home. So, to count their blessings, they celebrated each season that came to pass. Viburnum was named like that because of the little white flowers that would blossom during Winter,” you continued, swiping even more ground herbs into the cart. 

“So, there’s three other festivals that happen here? What are their names?” Kento asked, keeping his eyes on the back of your head as the two of you turned left to the next aisle.

“Um, the summer one is called the Marigold Festival, the fall one is called Aster Festival, and the Spring one is called Apple Blossom Festival.”

Kento couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow at the Spring one, “Apple Blossom? Don’t tell me you have something to do with that?”

You turned your head, and he could tell you were suppressing your smile, “maybe,” you winked, before turning back around. 

“It used to be called the Daffodil Festival, but when my grandmother started her orchard at such a young age, and brought a lot of money to the town, the festival was renamed to Apple Blossom because of the flowers that would bloom before the apples that would grow in the fall.” you stated, before seeing the tall wall of paper towels in front of you.

Squinting your eyes, you grabbed two different brands, lifting the two of them, and comparing them, before presenting them to him, “Which one?”

Kenot blinked, taken aback, before leaning his head down, his brown eyes glancing between the two brands

“Hmmm, this one,” he said, pointing to the one in your right hand. 

“That’s exactly what I was thinking too,” you stated, placing the paper towel in your left hand back and putting the right one in your cart, before swiping a few more of that same brand into your cart as well.

“Since then, it’s been a reason for celebration in our town, and as it grows bigger, so does all the love that is shared.” your bright smile turned into a more mellow one. 

“The festivals were the favorite time of year for my family, especially the winter ones,” you said, the two of you approaching the front counter. 

Looking up, you waved at the cashier, who waved back at you, calling out by name before starting a short conversation with you. As that happened, Kento walked up, starting to immediately put things on the sole conveyor belt as it began to move. Seeing the movement, the things lining up but yo not making a step to move, the cashier took a glance to her left, only to see Kento placing all the stuff on the belt. The cashier said nothing, but she definitely raised an eyebrow at that, before scanning the last of the things.

“$567.74, is your total, sugar,” the older lady stated, Kento seeing you looking into your purse.

However, before you could pay, Kento was already standing right behind you, his card in hand, inserting it into the card slot. 

“Kento!” you squealed, but a smile on your face, “I didn’t bring you along to pay for it!”

Kento felt you lightly smacking his arm, and although he could barely feel it, only smiled before looking at you, “It’s okay, let me do this, as a thank you for explaining the festivals to me.”

Tilting your head at him, a smile appearing on your face, “I was gonna do that whether you came with me or not, there was no need for you to spend your money on lil ol’me.”

“Just let the man buy the stuff for you, sugar, sounds like he doesn't wanna take no for an answer.” the older lady working the cash register said, placing all the stuff in multiple plastic bags.

You took a breath, raising your hands up in surrender before taking a step back, allowing Kento to complete the last of the transaction. Kento smiles at your slight dramatics, taking his card out before putting it back into his wallet. Together, the two of you placed the last of the plastic bags onto the wagon as much as you could without anything spilling out. Only two bags couldn't fit, with no choice but for you to carry them as Kento wanted to try and make it fit for you. With all of your errands done, it was nothing for Kento to pull the heavy cart towards the Orchard, with you walking beside him once again. 

“How would you have pulled this cart with everything on here,” he couldn’t help but ask you, watching as the sun began to dip into the skyline.

“I could have pulled it!” you cried out, turning your head towards him.

Suddenly, Kento stopped in his tracks, an idea popping up into his head. Calling your bluff as he suddenly let go of the handle, before gesturing for you to pick up the handle and to pull. He watched as you glanced between him and the cart before letting a little “hmph” before handing him the two plastic bags you carried, before stomping right over to the wagon. 

Picking it up, Kento held back his laughter as he watched as you struggled to even make it move an inch. He watched as your sneakers slid against the sandy dirt, sweat beginning to drip against your brow as you barely moved five inches from your original position. 

“Okay, okay,” Kento cut in, grabbing the handle from you with one hand.

However, the sudden loss of stabilization had you shrieking, missing a step, and soon had you falling face-forward. With his other hand, Kento quickly reached out, his arm wrapping itself around his waist as much as he could, stopping you from falling on your face. You let out another shriek as you were suddenly on your feet again. 

“Are you okay?” He asked you, his eyes quickly scanning over you to make sure nothing was out of place for you. 

Slowly you nodded your head, adjusting your thick clothes, glasses as well, and your crochet cardigan. 

“Yeah, yeah thank you again, Kento, seems you’ve been saving me a lot recently, ” you turned towards him, giving him a wide smile.

He felt heat overtake his body at your words, pink blooming once again at his cheeks before looking away from you, nodding his head. 

With no other words exchanged, he handed you your two plastic bags, before following behind you back to your orchard. When the two of you arrived, you led him towards the back, where he suddenly noticed a lot of construction and caution tape around a certain portion of the house, in an area that was supposed to be the corner of the house, built in the middle of the side of the house and the back. It was obvious that it was new, the colors around it much brighter than the rest of the terracotta orange color of the house.

“What’s this,” he couldn’t help but ask, pointing at the addition to the house.

Glancing over at what he was pointing at, before smirking, “that is the Honeyed Orchard’s bakery-cafe, set to reopen in a few days.”

Bakery-cafe? Was this why you were offering classes, to promote the re-opening? He thought to himself as he looked at the building, seeing something through the window closest to him. Suddenly, before he could see what the interior was, cold hands came up and wrapped themselves around his eyes, blocking his vision. 

“Hey–” he started, but he felt you beginning to guide him away from the cafe.

“No peeking! You can see along with everyone else how it looks. Right now, help me put these things inside please!”

Your hands were soft, that was his first thought, heat radiating within him once again. What was wrong with him? He couldn't help but question, it was like his body was transported back to grade school when he would notice girls for the first time, and he had no courage to even speak to them, only placing himself nose first in a book. Disappointment rattled through him the moment you let go, leading him towards the back of the house. Together, the two of you carried all the stuff into the back, inside the kitchen. 

The first thing he saw was silver, lots of silver. Tall, rectangular contraptions, with glass doors, and in them he could see pastries all lined up on trays. There were rows of them, all lined up against the back wall. 

“Am I… am I supposed to be here?” Kento couldn't help but ask, turning his head to where you were only to see you approach with a basket in hand.

You tilted your head, an “eeehhh…” coming out of your mouth, “well no, but I trust you.” you pressed your manicured finger against your plump glossy lips. 

He felt glad at your words, helping you place the heavy glass pitchers and jars on the empty counters, as well as helping you organize all the seasonings and herbs. Soon the bags were empty and the wagon was clear of any items, so you easily folded up the wagon before placing it in the storage closet in the kitchen. 

“Wait, before you go!” you exclaimed, walking up to one of the tall containers, opening it up, before using the pair of tongs by it and pulling out one of the many treats. He came closer to you as you wrapped up the… what seems to be a glazed donut with pretty parchment paper, red-checkered with little apples dotted within a few of the white squares. Now fully, wrapped up, suddenly you handed it to him.

“For all your help, Kento,” you said, “it’s a glazed apple-cake donut, I couldn’t let you see the inside of the cafe, but I can let you have one of the pastries that we’ll be selling.”

He held his hands up, about to decline, saying he didn’t need it, despite his stomach turning, his inner feelings craving any treat that was made by your hand. However, the final nail was put into the coffin by the obvious rumble of his stomach stopped him from even saying a word. He blushed as you giggled at the noise, urging him to take the apple donut. 

“Th… thank you,” is all he said, taking the donut, pushing some of the parchment paper, glancing over at you, with a nervous smile on your face, teetering on the tips of your toes, waiting for his reaction. 

With that he took a bite, eyes widening at the soft riches of the donut, covered in the sweet brown sugar-cinnamon glaze. Before he knew it, he was taking another, much larger bite. How is it that everything you make tastes like magic to him? 

“I’m assuming that you like it?” you couldn’t help but ask, watching as Kento nodded his head, mouth full of donuts. 

As he ate, the two of you walked outside, soon ending up at the entrance of your fence, just as Kento finished the last of his donut. By the time the two of you got outside, the sun had almost fully set, the coolness of the afternoon now slowly turning into a frigid evening. Turning towards him, feeling your eyes on him as he cleaned his mouth of any lasting crumbs. 

“Thank you again, I had fun today, Kento,” you told him, smiling. 

Kento towards you, not wanting to go, wanting to spend the whole night talking to you, but he also knew you needed to prepare for the festival, and he’s definitely seeing you tomorrow. With that, he suddenly took a step towards you, reaching down for your bare hand. Your eyes widen as you suddenly feel him place a warm kiss on your cold knuckles. His heart was racing as he did this, he didn't even know why he was doing this. Something, a new voice within him, the same one that was guiding his actions today, told him to do this. When he gauged your reaction, seeing your eyes and mouth widen open, your free hand suddenly placed against your heart. Speechless, he left you speechless, and something within him blossomed at that, a smile appearing on his face. 

“Thank you for today, I had fun as well, and I’ll see you tomorrow, trust me,” that was the last thing he said, before turning around and making his way down the road. 

He began to make his way down the road, and after a few more seconds, he turned his head, only to see you still standing there, eyes slightly spaced out. However, when you noticed that his head was turned around, you lifted up the hand he kissed, waving at him before yelling that you better see him tomorrow. He smiled, turning around, before making his way down the road, back to his inn room. 

The first thing he noticed was the bonfire, huge, and in the middle of the square. Its red-hot fiery anger radiated a decent radius, allowing those who stood or sat near it to warm up from the cold. Kento tucked his gloved hands in his pocket, muttering “excuse me’s” as we walked past the group of giggling teenage girls who eyed him with stars in their eyes. Even so, he had only one goal in mind, keeping his eyes on the moving crowd, moving with them as they walked towards the festival. Above the entrance, he could see a huge banner, spreading from one side to another, with a black background, allowing the white, silver, and ice blue lettering and designs to pop out even more. He kept his eyes on it as much as he could, until he found himself within the town square, one fully transformed just for the Viburnum Festival. All around, different stands, showing off different games, prizes, and whatnot surrounded him. CHildren’s joy was all around, Kento couldn’t help but smile at a kid who won a huge plush off of some cartoon show he’d never heard of. 

He couldn’t lie, it entertained him, just how everyone enjoyed themselves, with no worries, and how families enjoyed themselves for just one night. A family… a bitter smile stretched across Kento’s face, the image of his father sleeping and drinking his life away, his only living family. 

“Kento!” His name being yelled out, broke him out of his trance, looking up and glancing around until he saw a waving hand not too far from him. 

His eyes widened as he saw you standing right next to a booth, a booth that currently looked like the busiest one out of the entire festival. He eyed the long line, before making his way over to you. Your braids were down, the French curls reaching the small of your back, while you tucked your hand back into the black overcoat you were wearing. Around your neck, you had a lavender-purple scarf wrapped around it. 

He made it to you, and your smile was wide, your pearly whites gleaming underneath the hanging lights the town put up for the festival.

“You really did come!” you exclaimed. 

A short smile appeared on his face as he smiled down at you, “I told you that I would, now didn’t I?” He said, glancing over at the booth, seeing the line beginning to get even longer. 

You turned your head, smiling at what Kento was seeing before turning back at him, “yeah, that’s not an uncommon sight when these festivals come around. Come, let me take you there!”

Before he could say anything, you had suddenly hooked your arm around his, which helped that his hands were still pocketed. You guided him over to the table, where he could see just what was happening. 

Seeing pink spiky hair, Kento could see, that Yuuji, the boy who signed him up for the class, took orders and money, while two other teenagers, a boy with black, spiky hair and a girl with a ginger bob, were handing out the orders to people, operating as fast as they could. Behind the three of them, there were three more, who all seemed to be getting all the inventory of stuff ready. Kento could see the wrapped-up donuts, tars, and even bottles of apple cider all being placed. 

“Wow,” he couldn’t help but say, “is it always so busy for you?”

You nodded your head, “yeah, this festival brings a lot of people from far and near, people who just want a glimpse within life here, people who used to live here coming back for a visit. It’s not a surprise for us, and even other places to be so busy.”

A whistle left his mouth as he continued to observe your booth, watching the flow of traffic flow. 

“Do you want me to introduce everyone to you, or do you want to go see the rest of the festival?”

He looked down at you, “don’t you think you should help them?” Once again, look at the line, “it’s a lot of people here.”

You waved off his concerns, “that’s what I pay them for, this isn’t their first rodeo.” 

The look of concern still must have not left Kento’s face because next you said, “but if it really does get hectic, then they all have my number, they can call me and we’ll come back running back.”

At that, Kento relaxed, and with that, you waved bye at your employees, before telling them to call you if things get too hectic for them. They all waved bye back at you, before focusing back on their work. The two of you soon intermingled with the crowd, walking side by side as you took him all around, showing off each and every booth, table, and open-doored business. 

“That’s Mrs. Prechitt,” you pointed to a lady who was selling pies while wearing… very interesting headwear. 

“Is that a pie on her head? Like an actual pie from the oven on her head?” Kento didn't think before speaking, the first thing he thought of was leaving his mouth. 

You muffled your giggles with your hand, but you nodded your head, “we tell her every year that it’s not safe, but every year she doesn’t listen. She does make a very mean peach pie though.” Your words were slowly overcome with laughter with every second as you could see the disgusted look on Kento’s face. 

Your other hand came up around his arm, holding yourself up as you laughed out loud. Kento looked down at your face, overcome with mirth, and felt warm, knowing that pink was staining his cheeks and it just wasn’t from the cold. With a sniffle, Kento saw as you picked yourself up, wiping your tears away with your gloved hands. Once you were composed, with no words, the two of you walked past her, waving at her as you did. Noticing you, her eyes brightened, waving back as the pie on her head moved with her head. 

“Let’s hope it won't fall on someone and cause third degree burns on someone,” Kento muttered, and you only shook your head, but continued to show him around the festival. 

While showing him around, your eyes landed on a booth selling funnel cake, and you felt your stomach lurch. The line, luckily, wasn’t too long, with Kento paying for your plate when the two of you waited in line for it. 

“You know I can pay for my own stuff, right?” you asked, grabbing a fork and a few napkins as he held your funnel cake in his hands. 

“I know.” is all he said, before handing you the funnel cake once you were situated. 

You looked up at him, smiling and shaking your head. A gentleman, he was, through and through, before the two of you continued walking, this time with your arms no longer hooked as you ate your funnel cake.  Still, through your bites, you showed him around the festival, telling him about each booth and how long they had been coming around. 

Lifting another piece of funnel cake on your fork, just about to go out in your mouth, before glancing at Kento who was looking ahead. Before you knew it, you were holding your fork close to his mouth, a piece of funnel cake slightly steaming.

“You want some,” you teased, your heart beginning to pace faster as you realized what you were doing. 

However, before you could pull it away, play it off as some kind of joke, Kento opened his mouth before pulling the piece of funnel cake off your fork and eating it. 

“Hmm,” he hummed, chewing on the piece, “not too bad, but it pales in comparison to what you could make.”

Your mouth fell open, looking at him, looking at, giving his own soft smile, before facing forward. Letting out a shaky breath, your brush with his sudden boldness caused heat to rise up your body. 

“Where’d all that come from,” you couldn’t help but ask, still trying to recover from the fact that his words and wink almost sent you squealing like a schoolgirl. 

Using your fork to cut another piece of funnel cake, only to hear Kento say, “just speaking the truth.”

Your truth is causing me heart palpitations, you thought to yourself, cutting another piece of your funnel cake with your fork, and eating it as well. Just as you were about to finish the last of your cake, your phone suddenly rang. 

You looked over at Kento, but you didn't have to say anything. You had to gently take your cake and fork out of your hands, giving you your napkin to wipe your hands clean of powdered sugar and oil as best as you could before fishing out your phone. Looking at the caller ID, eyes widening at the sight of Yuta being the one calling you.

“Hello, Yuta? Hey, what’s going on?” You answered, only to be met with a bunch of commotion over the line.

“Yeah, boss, you might wanna get down here. One of the customers threw a donut at Yuuji and now Mefumi is trying to hurt him, the rest of them can only hold him back for so long.”

Your eyes widened, “threw a donut?? at Yuuji??” 

You glanced over at Kento who looked stunned at what you said, before gesturing for him to follow you. The two of you made your way through the crowd, speed walking as much as you could without being rude as you pressed Yuta for more details. 

“Well, from what I heard from Nobara, before she went to hold Megumi back, that the guy ordered a donut, that’s what all three of them heard, but whenYuuji went to give it to him, the guy got into a fit, yelling that he ordered a tart. Yuuji tried to say he especially ordered a donut, but he wasn't having it. Megumi tried to step in, and that's when the donut was thrown, and now it's all chaos over here. Will you be here in time?”

Before you could say anything, you could suddenly hear loud rucks happening as you two got closer and closer to your booth, where a crowd was surrounding you. 

“I’m here,” is all you said to Yuta, before ending the call, telling people to move as politely as possible. 

However, a hand suddenly pulled you back, looking back and seeing Kento push ahead of you, before easily using his strength to push back the crowd, not even bothering to apologize, before leading you to the front to see the full extent of what happened. 

The first thing you notice is the absolute anger on Megumi’s face, as he struggles in his cousin's, and Nobara’s hold. Yuuju was standing beside them, along with Toge, who was trying his best to examine Yuuji’s eyes, which were covered but you could tell a bit of purplish coloring was beginning to bloom on his skin. Not too far from them, on the other side of the booth, was a short, stocky man with some sort of glee on his face, as if he took in some sick joy in the way Megumi was reacting. With him was a woman, who was recording everything, her words easily taunting Megumi, who only fell for it, his anger like a rushing angry tidal wave, and he couldn't wait to crash into the poor, unsuspecting people. 

Yut a was the first to notice you, “Boss!”

At those words, everyone turned, only to see you coming in behind Kento, “What is going on?!” Your voice is loud, and angry, with your hands at your sides.

However, before any of your kids could say anything, a camera was suddenly shoved in front of your face, the flash causing you to hiss as the bright light dulled your vision, spots entering into your vision. Your hand came up, trying to push away whoever this was, and you could barely comprehend the fact that she was suddenly talking about you and your “effectiveness over your employees,” when her words suddenly ceased. 

Blinking, allowing your eyes to adjust as you suddenly saw Kento standing right in front of you, holding the woman’s arm, with an angry glare on his face, “watch where you’re pointing that camera,” as all he said, before shoving her back slightly. 

“Hey, don’t talk to my wife like that–” However the man’s words were cut short by Kento’s icy glare, the man stopping in his tracks, swallowing whatever he was gonna say next. 

The immediate area around you all was silent, all eyes on Kento as he crossed his arms, before speaking, “Now, what happened?”

All at once, everyone began to speak, not allowing anyone else to even speak. You could barely hear a word, when suddenly Kento raised his hand, and just like that, everyone went silent. He took a deep breath, before opening his eyes, before looking over at your kids.

“Can one of you say what happened, only one, please?” he said.

Walking closer, only see Maki slowly let go of Megumi before taking a step closer, taking a breath before explaining everything that happened. She also heard the guy order a donut, her hearing a bit better than the two guys in the back doing inventory with her. She saw the commotion and went to intervene when she saw the guy throw the donut at Yuuji. 

When Maki said that, Kento turned towards the guy, who was now fidgeting, sweating, as if it wasn’t going as he expected it at all to go down.

“Did anyone else hear this man order a donut as well?”

Looking around, your eyes widened at the sight of the few hands, most of whom were at the front of the line, all raising their hands as well. Kento then turned his glare back onto the stocky man, who jumped the moment he was looking at him, 

“You’re gonna tell me all these people were lying about you ordering a donut?” Is all Kento asked, raising an eyebrow.

The man began to stutter, “we…well, I mean, I mean no, but–,” but he was effectively cut off by Kento picking up this man easily with one hand.

Your eyes widened as he dropped the man right in front of Yuuji, whose eyes were wide-eyed in surprise as well, “apologize to him, now!”

“I’m… I’m sorry!” the short man yelped out, tears of fear streaming down his face. 

You couldn't help but take a glance at his wife, who was no longer recording, but instead shaking with fear at the sight of her husband. A bit of noise cut your attention behind you when suddenly two officers came through the crowd. Immediately recognized one of them as Yuuji’s older half-brother, who was very overprotective of said boy. Choso’s eyes scanned through before his eyes landed on his brother, seeing his eye, which was now slowly turning a dark purple. 

“Yuuji? What happened?” He called out, rushing over to be by his brother's side.

Everything happened within a blur, with Choso’s partner taking you and everyone else’s statement while Choso was too busy lamenting over his brother and arresting the couple. You let out a breath of relief as they rushed away, with Nobara and Megumi immediately going to take Yuuji to Ieiri, who had her own clinic booth in case of emergencies somewhere around the festival. 

Letting out a long breath, running your fingers over your face, and rubbing at your temples. Stress. This was all too stressful, with everything weighing upon you like a ton of bricks. With your uncle’s sudden arrival two days ago, and now your employee– your kid had an injured eye from an agitated “customer” . If you could even call them that, they were trying to write you off before they had even spoken to you. Your legs began to tetter, feeling yourself begin to sway back and forth. 

However, a force suddenly came up right beside you, arms coming up, and wrapping themselves around you, holding you up. Moving your hands, only to see concerned brown eyes staring down at you, Kento’s eyes were soft, not like in the frigid glare he had just adorned on his face.

“Are you alright,” his voice was quiet, as he guided you over to the closest chair at your booth. 

You nodded your head, taking your seat, “yes, I am, I just couldn't handle seeing Yuuji hurt like that. Oh god,” you groaned, remembering the conversation you had with Kento just before you left the booth

“You were right, I should have never left the booth,” you said, covering your face with your hands once again. 

Suddenly, you felt much bigger hands coming around them, pulling them away from your face. Kento looked at you, a smile on his face.

“You couldn’t have predicted an irate man with no sense or rationality to come and attack them like that. I didn’t even predict that, I was only concerned about the amount of work, and you were right in the fact that they could handle it.”

His hands enveloped yours, feeling his gloved thumbs rub into your own, “let’s not let this ruin our night, okay?”

His words elated you, a smile slowly appearing on your face as you nodded, before pushing yourself to your two feet. You dusted yourself off, wiping away the two tears that had begun to fall onto your face. Turning around facing Yuta, Maki, and Toge, telling them to continue pushing the inventory and that you’ll take care of the front. You moved to the front, only to see an off-white overcoat joining you as well. You and Kento smiled at each other, before turning to face the line that had begun to grow again the moment it seemed your booth was back in business. 

It was only an hour and thirty minutes, give or take, when you would fully run out of inventory. With that, Yuta deconstructed the booth, while Toge placed the boxes you brought them in the wagons you brought.

“The two of you should get out of here, the three of us can handle this,” Maki said, standing in between the two of you.

You turned towards her, shaking your head, “no, Maki, the three of you are my responsibility, I should have never left you alone–” but she cut you off.

“Don’t let that asshole ruin the plans you had tonight,” she cut through your words, shaking your head.

“We got this, plus Megumi texted me, Shoko patched Yuuji up and Kamo took him home, so he’s fine, and they’re on their way back. We’ll have more help,” she continued, before glancing over your shoulder, where Kento was most likely standing.

“It’s not everyday someone like him comes, you want him to experience everything, if you know what I mean,” she suddenly winked, nudging you.

You let out a gasp, smacking her on the arm, “I do not want to hear that from you, Maki!” 

She threw her head back in laughter, before telling you one last time to enjoy your night, before walking away to join Yuta and Toge in cleaning up. You watched as the three of them interacted, working together, smiling at them before turning around, and seeing Kento walking up to you.

Smiling, you held out your arm, “you got time for one more destination?”

Kento looked over at the three of them, before looking back at you, before giving off a soft smile and hooking his arms with you once again. You lead him away, towards your last destination of the night. He watched as the crowd slightly densified as he looked ahead, seeing a familiar warm glow get closer and closer. 

Before he knew it, you found yourself underneath the Bonfire’s glowing light, surrounded by many others, couples all wrapped with each other. Sultry, soulful music played through the loudspeakers as people handed out glasses of champagne, low voices whispered underneath music as Kento and you entered right back into the middle of the square, completely transformed from when he first arrived. Glowing lights were hanging across from the streetlight. 

The two of you soon entered from a corner, you two watched, sipping on two glasses of complimentary champagne as everything around you swayed, the people moving like waves in the ocean. 

“I remember one year when we came, and my parents escaped after a little but,” you began to reminisce, mixing into the crowd, “my grandmother was cleaning up, and needed help but told me not to bother them and find someone else.”

Kento’s eyes widened as he looked over at you, watching a wistful look in your eye as you stared ahead at the crowd. Interested, he watched as you began to sway up and down, on the tips of your toes, the sweet alcohol in your glass swirling within your hands. 

“However, I didn’t listen and went to go and find them,” you recounted that day as well as you could count to five on one hand.

“I slipped past the adults, and came here and found them slow dancing, right about there,” you pointed out to a certain area, where there happens to be another couple dancing right there. 

“My mom’s head was on my dad’s shoulders, and her eyes were closed, and my dad was looking straight ahead, yet would glance at my mom every so often, and his smile would get bigger every time he did so.” You reminisced, taking another sip of your sparkling wine.

 “That day, I stood there and watched them for over at least ten minutes, before I remembered that my grandmother needed help, and went over there to get them. I was a little scared that they were going to be mad. I interrupted their dance, but luckily they weren’t.”

Your smile was wide, but a bittersweet one, the memories of your parents before their demise weighing heavily upon you. The two of you were already standing pretty close, but he couldn't help but take another step towards, fully closing the gap between you. An idea suddenly spurred within him, swinging the last of his champagne, before placing it on the brick hedge wall not too far from you before placing his hand out.

“Dance with me, please?” His cheeks were bright pink, and he almost stuttered on the word “dance”, but still, he watched as your eyes widened, but still he saw that bittersweet smile turn genuine, before placing your glass down, before placing your gloved hand into his own. 

He cleared his throat, using his other hand to cover his mouth as he led you underneath the glowing LED lights, standing close enough to the fire so he could feel its radiating warmth, but not too close for him to consider it to be a hazard. His already pink cheeks deepened in color the moment he felt your hand slide up his chest, before resting right on his shoulder. His right hand slid around your waist, and then your two free hands intertwined, fingers locking together.

At first, it was all silent between the two of you, but the two of you were locked eyes, unable to look away from each other. He tried to keep his heart under control, but Kento knew he couldn’t the more he looked into your eyes, which steadily glowed with an emotion he couldn’t decipher. His heartbeat only quickened when you suddenly gave him a smile, before suddenly placing your head right on his chest, looking down. 

“Your heart is beating really fast, Kento,” you whispered, but he could still hear you loud and clear, “do I make you nervous?” you asked him, slightly breathless, looking back up at him, your head still lying against his chest. 

His heart jumped at the sudden eye contact, and he suddenly found his throat dry, but his body language did all the speaking for him, watching as a giggle left your lips. You shifted your head, now only resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him, still swaying against the beat of the music. 

“I’m really glad I met you, Kento,” you mumbled, suddenly letting go of his hand, him watching as you slid the hand that rested on his shoulder around his waist, your other hand joining you. 

With a now free hand, tentatively, it joined his other hands at your waist, suddenly pulling the two of you closer. He could feel your bosom pressing up against him, as well as every breath you took. 

“I’m glad I met you too,” he spoke back, just as quietly as you.

And for a moment, he couldn’t take in anything but the two of you, as if you two were the only ones here. He couldn’t hear the music, he couldn't smell the faint burning wood of the bonfire, he could no longer feel the bite of Jack Frost’s winter brushing against his skin, nothing. All he could hear was your heartbeat, which was pacing as fast or maybe even faster than his own. All he could smell was you, the fairness of red currant, and cinnamon, radiant and decadent, all-consuming. All he could feel was heat, not from the bonfire, but from within, pulsating heat that spread throughout his body, heat that was controlled by every time you touched him, looked at him and even spoke to him. 

He took another look at you, his final confirmation for the budding feeling within him, the bud that grew into an almost blossoming rose, and in so little time as well. Well, who could blame him? As one of his hands suddenly reached up, caressing at your cheek, your eyes slowly widening yet, you snuggled into the warmth of his glove. Despite the barrier between you two, he could still feel it. Tentatively, he began to bring your face closer to him, with you slowly pressing yourself up on the tips of your toes. 

And then he felt it, the feeling of sticky pressure against his lips, and it felt like fireworks went off within him. Your hands slid into his short, blonde hair, keeping him in place as the kiss deepened. You tasted sweet, powdered sugar, pancakes, cinnamon, and fermented sweet grapes as well. While sweet, it was not the temporary taste of what you ate that urged him, that spurred him to continue to kiss you. It was your underlying essence underneath it that kept him wanting more of you. Slowly, he got addicted, his other hand leaving your waist, coming up to the other side of your face, keeping you right where he wanted you.

He almost crumbled at the sweet moan that left your lips, as it was readily swallowed by the kiss. Kento could feel his lungs screaming at him, yet he couldn't find any other reason to let go. However, his reprieve yet disappointment was met as he felt you slowly let go of his lips. The two of you were heavy with breath, heaving as the two of you stared at each other, both of your eyes glancing in between each other’s eyes and lips. 

“We…” he heard you start, your voice as breathless as his own, “we should…”

You could not continue your words, but yet, he felt your hand slide right on top of his own, which still rested on your waist, before guiding it down, making him rest on your bottom. He already guessed what you were talking about, and that action pushed him into further action. It was much like out of a fairytale, the way he held you close as he whisked you away. Before he knew it, he was entering the corridor of his inn, his temporary place of living much closer than the orchard. His hand fished for his key as he pulled you up to the sole elevator. The moment the doors closed, the two of you were right back onto each other like the way two perfectly fitted and formed puzzle pieces. 

“Kento,” you gasped, as you suddenly jumped, your dress crumpling up around your waist, as you wrapped your legs around his waist, holding you up with ease.

He pressed you up against the wall of the elevator, his lips almost immediately ravishing your own as the metal box slowly lifted up, taking you and him to the floor of his room. The bright light of the elevator allowed him to gaze upon your face fully. He watched the desperation, your desperation fully blooming on your face as you kissed him once again. Said desperation was shared between said kiss, his body, and your own moving in tandem. Your hips ground into him, against the erection that pressed up against his slacks. 

Then a ding interrupted him, before hearing the door rumbling. Quickly, he felt your legs drop down from his waist, but you intertwined your hands with him before he pulled you through the door, his steps quick and brisk as he led you down the hallway. The hallway lights were dimmed to accommodate those who were sleeping, the creme walls and with the dark brown wood lining up at the bottom, gave the inn a sterile feeling, but it didn’t matter. Turning a brisk right, his free hand digging into his pocket, before pulling out the key that led into his room. However, his excitement and his hands shaking suddenly caused him to drop it, just before he could put the key into the doorknob. 

He bent down, but before he could pick it up, your hand came around, slowly picking it up, and holding it in front of him. Taking steps, using your waist to bump him out the way over so slightly, before grabbing the doorknob, putting the key in, and slowly unlocking the door. The moment the door swung open, it was like he pounced upon you like a wild animal. His hands wrapped around you, a slight gasp in the form of his name leaving your mouth before sweet giggles followed as well. His foot kicked the door closed the moment he entered the dark room. 

He dropped you right on the bed, before climbing onto you, enveloping your lips into a new, electrifying kiss. Your arms and hands came up, wrapping around his neck and shoulders before pulling him closer. Kento cracked in between your legs, the tightness of his pants pressing up against your panties. He could feel the dampness against the fabric, as his hands slowly slid up your sides, feeling every single curve and crevice within your body. His thumbs pressed girls right on your pelvis, while your hands slid from his back, sliding underneath his jacket, before slowly pushing the heavy fabric off of him. For a moment, Kento let go of the kiss, heavy breaths echoing into the otherwise empty room. He allowed you to push the jacket fully off him, revealing his button-down shirt. His hands moved towards your own jacket, your back arching as he pulled the jacket off you as well, before throwing it into an obscure corner. 

 “Kento,” you gasped again, “is this… is this a bad idea?”

He leaned back down, feeling your hands slide up his chest, before resting on his shoulders. Your foreheads touched, and for a moment, the two of you said nothing, just staring into each other's eyes. A flurry of emotions within your eyes, most of them he could not decode, yet the one that he could was need, and desire. 

With nothing else in exchange, it was like the two of you made your realizations at the same time, jumping on each other at the same time. Kento’s hands grabbed at your waist, before pulling you up, sitting up on his bed, and placing you in his lap. Your hands ran over his wrinkled shirt, before your manicured fingers fumbled away at his buttons, slowly unbuttoning it while still locked into your kiss. A groan erupted from Kento’s throat as you pressed up against his clothed hard-on in a certain manner. It rumbled through him, and he could feel your body shake through the aftermath as well.

Your eyes drifted down at the sight in front of you, eyes fluttering, your mouth almost drooling at him. Although his shirt was only half down, you could see his muscles bulging from his shirt the moment you flung his jacket off of him. What… What were you doing? It had been long, too long since you’ve been this close with a man. Especially one that made you feel… as coveted as you felt with Kento. In so little time, you’d been wrapped within him, in every sense of the way. The moment you peeled back his shirt, seeing his chest and arm hair peeking from the shirt, it was like something fully awakened within you. 

Letting go of the kiss, your hands fumbling with his shirt, desperate to open it to its fullest. Your foreheads pressed against each other, heavy pants leaving your mouths as you felt his larger fingers pull at the stretchy material of your dress, feeling cool against your legs as he slowly pulled up the garment as best as he could. Before you knew it, you were in your bra and panties, while he was half-naked. Your hands then moved to his pants, fiddling at the belt, the metal clanking into the room. Once the zipper was down, Kento lifted himself up, helping you take his pants off before watching as you threw them across the room. 

He took you right back into his arms, before pressing the two of you right into the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers. You could feel his hard-on, pressing up against the thin fabric of boxers, aching to be released from its entrapment. Your hands fidgeting, you want to put them everywhere, his hair, on his face, you want to create crimson streaks against his back as he ground himself into you. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, and your moans were swallowed up once again by the kiss. The Kento above you was different from the one you’ve experienced, he was just as desperate as you, in fact, it was even more desperate than you. You could feel every needling emotion in his kisses. You wished to say that it was inexperienced deprivation but–

You let out a particularly loud moan, still muffled by the kiss,  as you felt his fingers press up against your clothed clit, his two fingers slowly rubbing circles against it, ever so carefully. Letting go of the kiss, watching his face as he stared down at you, his usually kind but tired eyes showing off that same depravity you felt within his kiss. His fingers continued to tease you, and you could feel just how soaked his fingers were becoming even with the fabric barrier. 

“Kento,” you let out a breathy moan, only watching him as his fingers hooked underneath the damp fabric. 

“So beautiful,” his breath was hot, as he let you go from the kiss, before feeling his lips beginning to press up against your cheek. 

As he began to trail down, you could feel his fingers pull the cloth aside, letting out a pant as cool air brushed up against your soaked cunt. Kento let go of your panties, before pressing two of his fingers in between your lips, slowly beginning to press circles within your pussy, his hands skilly sliding in between your folds and your clit. Your hands flew up, grabbing at his naked shoulders, feeling the hairs that grew out of his chest brush up against you as he slowly lowered himself with every kiss. His kisses felt as if they revered you, that familiar desperation only riling you up further. His kisses were now to your breasts, kisses in between the valley, still trapped within their confines. With his free hand, his hand slides behind you, feeling his fingers adeptly unhooking your black lace bra. The lingerie slowly fell from your shoulders, your hands reaching up as much as you could to allow him to take it off of you, also throwing it onto the floor. 

The moment his lips wrapped themselves around your nipple he also slipped two fingers inside of you. A loud gasp-like moan left your mouth, your back arching against the mattress. Your nails dug into his back, a hefty groan leaving his mouth, muffled by your breast. You could feel his tongue licking and sucking away at your nipple, while his fingers moved and out of you. It was delicious, how he finger-fucked you carefully. Receiving pleasure from two bouts of ways, an unrelenting euphoric sensation. You were soaked, hearing the wet smacking sounds echoing in the room, along with the sound of Kento’s sucking at your nipple.

“So– oh my god,” your voice cut through itself, feeling the pads of his fingers pressing up within you, right up against your spot. 

Your eyes were squeezed closed and yet, even with that, you could still feel the intensity of Kento’s eyes right on you. Soon enough, he let go, cool air breezing up against your wet nipple, before moving his attention to the second nipple. At the same time, a gargled moan left your lips as you felt his thumb press up against your clit once more, pushing up against it before rubbing even deeper circles against it. You could feel him groaning and humming against your breast, rumbles sending euphoric shockwaves within you. His thick fingers stretched you open, slipping in and out of your sopping pussy, your juices dripping all over his hand and your inner thighs. 

Slowly opening your eyes, suddenly feeling him let go of your second nipple, cold air hardening them even further. Bending your head down, feeling wet kisses against your wet skin as he trailed down from your breasts towards your stomach. Something within you began to jerk as he got close and closer to your cunt, your breath getting heftier as he pressed soft kisses up against your pelvis as he slowly pulled his drenched fingers out of your pussy. Lining them up with his lips, you watched as your tongue slipped out of his mouth, before licking up your slick, religion in the taste. 

You couldn't help the giggle that left your mouth, “ooh, so nasty,” you teased, sticking your own tongue out of your mouth. 

Kento glanced up at you, your playful smile widening as you saw his pink blush darken into a more vermillion red. Suddenly, you let out a shriek as you felt your body being dragged down, Kento suddenly dropping onto the floor of his room. Your legs were suddenly bent backward, another squeal leaving your mouth as you felt your body suddenly being bent in half, stretching almost past its limits. You glanced around, seeing your knees above you, and seeing the tips of Kento’s finger grabbing at the back of your thighs, pressing into you.

“Kento? What are you doi–” Your words were cut off by an immense pressure up against your clit and cunt. 

Your hands grabbed at the messy sheets and blankets underneath, trying to stabilize yourself as Kento’s wet muscle slipped in between your folds, and your clit as well. your body jerking underneath his actions, back arching up against the bed. Your moans echoed across the room, your head straining to look down at the way his head bobbed into between your legs. Kento licked and sucked away at you like a man deprived of all food, you could feel his lips suck away at your clit, before his tongue moved into your hole. It was like your moans and the wet smacks only spurred him on further. 

“Kento,” you moaned his name, toes curling while still in the air. 

You tried your best to grind against his face, but his grip on you but you still, all you could do was squirm while he ate away at you. Letting out a mixture of a breath and gasp as Kento slowly relaxed your body, letting your lower back slowly rest upon the bed once more. Through all of that, he didn’t let up, multitasking as he kneeled on the floor. With your back resisting on the bed once more, it gave you free rein to grind and buck your hips against his face, feeling the large tip of his nose bumping up against your clit,  inciting you even further. The long-familiar band of tightness begins to build within you. Your cries began to pitch, higher and higher, going up octaves as you felt a sense of convulsions beginning to overtake you. Kento did nothing, your actions not deterring him as he ravished you further and further. 

“So good, you’re so good, Kento– fuck!” you squealed as your hips bucked up into the air, against his face harsher than normal. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna–” you cut out, “I’m coming, fuck–” It was your only warning towards him as you let out prolonged cries.

With your last words, you felt the band that stretched within you snap, your back arching into the area as your juices spilled from your cunt. They would have hushed out for you, if not for the unsated man who placed himself in between your legs. He lapped away at your slick, a groan leaving his lips as he succumbed to your taste, your scent in full. 

Lifting your head up, watching as he slowly lifted his own from you, the two of you locking eyes. His lips and the surrounding area were wet, wet with your cum. With shaky hands and arms, you pushed yourself up, watching as he slowly crawled back up to the bed, back towards you. Like a predator, a high-strung predator, and is ready to catch its short-winded prey. At the same time, you began to crawl back, giving him just enough space to place his body up onto the bed once more. Kento soon towered over you, his hair damp with sweat, falling down in front of his face as his hands were at either side of you. 

For a moment, you two just watched each other. You could feel how much your heart raced at this moment, the organ beating even faster as Kenot lowered himself towards you, easing both you and himself into a soft kiss. Your hands came up around his face, caressing him and holding him in place once more. As you kissed you, you could feel Kento’s hands begin to move, to put things in place for the two of you. Not wanting to just lay here, you released his face, before moving your hands down his front, before messing with the thick, elastic band of his boxers. You could hear Kento’s breath hitch as you did so.

Glancing up at him, your eyes shining with concern, “Is this… is this okay?” your voice filled with trepidation because the last thing you wanted was to push him past his brink.

Kento looked down at you, before nodding his head, “it’s perfect, don’t worry.”

His hands were back onto the back of your knees, pushing your legs back as you pulled down the rest of his boxers, his dick springing out from its confines. You shuddered, squirming as his cock slapped up against your stomach, your eyes widening a little at the sheer size of it. However, you made it this far, and no matter what, you knew that you wanted this. With a burst of new confidence, you wrapped your hands around him, before guiding his angry, brown tip toward your cunt

“Fu–” your words cut out into a high-pitched, pain-filled moan as you slowly pressed him inside of you. 

Above you, you could hear Kento letting out sharp hisses and pants, his hips slowly moving, as if he was holding himself back. Your free hand reached out, grabbing his arm, gripping at it as you felt him stretching you out further and further. 

“Baby, baby wait, slow down, I don’t want to hurt you,” his voice was only a murmur, trembling at the way you stretched around him. 

Yet, you shook your head, wanting to take more of him, wanting all of him inside of you, inside of your pussy. However, Kento’s hands reached down grabbing your hand, guiding him inside of you, before pinning you up. His heavyweight and stretch only caused you to squirm, your body thrashing as you felt his hips slowly push in and out of you. 

“Kento–” Each movement left you out of breath, unable to speak anything but his name in those moments.

“I need you to relax for me,” he grunted, sweat dripping down from his forehead, “so fucking tight–” 

You took deep breaths, trying your best to relax, it had been so long for you since you’d had sex, it was basically like losing your virginity all over again. Kento soon bent down, a long moan escaping from your mouth as his action pushed further into you, yet you could feel his forehead pressing up against you.

“That’s it, baby, just relax, for me,” he continued, his voice low and calm. 

With a snap of his hips, and a gargled moan leaving your lips, everything within you just skyrocketed. A high-pitched moan left your mouth, and you could feel Kento beginning to pick up the pace. Your hands still pinned against the bed, could do nothing but watch him, your legs wrapping themselves around his waist, keeping him closer as he bucked into you. 

“Oh. Oh!” you let out, ecstasy rushing within your veins, feeling his fat tip press up against your spongy walls. 

“Doing so good for me, baby,” he mumbled, “taking me so fucking well too.”

Hearing Kento curse only caused your pleasure to skyrocket, a man as seemingly put-together as him slipping into dirty words. After a few moments, he let go of your hands, his own hands falling onto your waist, squeezing and holding onto his as his hips began to slam into you. A loud cry and your hands found themselves around his own waist, holding onto him as closely as possible. You writhed underneath him, your pussy sopping and drenching his cock, the wet smacks echoing into the room once more. 

“Fuck–” you whimpered, “harder, fuck me harder, Kento please–” you gasped, your eyes rolling to the back.

Your words urged him, and he let out a loud string of moans as he pummeled into you. More and more, deeper and deeper, you fell into him. Already, you fell for him, his strength, his calmness, like the calm oceans of tropical beaches, yet at this moment, he was a torrent, a tsunami, and you were ready for him to swallow you whole. All throughout, the familiar tight band, now expanded, began building within you once again. 

“Kento,” you stretched out his name, “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, fuck—” 

“You can let go, baby, don’t worry,” he whispered, his hands squeezing the fat and muscle around your waist. 

“Come for me.”

With his final command, you let out a shriek before feeling your cum spill out of you. Your nails dug into his back as your juices spilled all over you, on your inner thighs and even on your abdomen, as well as his dick, and stomach as well. The moment you came all over him, it was like his thrust became sporadic, thrusting within you aimlessly. His grunts and groans became louder and louder within your ear. Suddenly, he let out a lasting moan on his lips as you glanced down, seeing white cum spilling from his tips, landing right on your stomach. 

Nothing but the sounds of the two of you breathing, your neck straightening, resting right on his pillow once more. Slowly, you could feel the weight above moving off of you, opening your eyes to see a light in the corner of your eye.

Pushing yourself up, you looked at the light emitting from the bathroom connected to the inn room, seeing Kento’s shadow moving about within the bathroom. Suddenly, you heard water being turned on, out of a bathtub faucet, hitting against the porcelain. Slowly, you pushed yourself up, ignoring the icky feeling of Kento’s essence dripping down the front of your body. Approaching the bathroom, peeking into the cracked door, only to be met with steam slowly emitting from the bathroom door. 

You opened the crack a little more, only to jump at the creaking sound of the door. Watching as Kento turned his head, seeing you peeking through the door. He turned, in all his naked glory, before telling you to come in. Smiling, you walked in, your arms wrapped up around yourself as you walked up to the bathtub filled to the brim with hot water. Standing next to him, glancing at him as he prepared your hot bath to clean yourself from your activities. Titling your head, allowing yourself to lean against his arm. A moment passed… before feeling Kento’s arm lift up, the one you leaned on, before wrapping itself around your waist, pulling you closer, your smile widening. 

Once the tub was filled, Kento slowly led you inside the bathtub, allowing you to sit right on top of him as the two of you cleaned off the sweat and bodily fluids from your guys’ activities. With a sigh, you relaxed as you felt Kento’s large hands take a clean rag, before dragging it all over your body. 

You’ve never felt this… rejuvenated after a night of passion like this. As you glanced up at Kento's, whose focus was on making sure your body was cleaned up, you couldn't help but think about… what was to come for the future. Was this… was this only a one-time thing for him…? The seeds of doubt were already planted within your mind, after all, this man lived tens if not hundreds of miles away from you. He was here on business, and here you are, in his inn room… You took a deep breath, pressing your back into his front, feeling him place the bag onto the edge of the tub before tentatively wrapping his arms around your waist. 

For now… for however long, you’ll enjoy this, you’ll enjoy him… as Maki said, It’s not every day someone like him comes, you want him to experience everything.

Kento was a changed man. 

As he walked beside you, the day after, your hands barely grazed each other as you walked down the empty path. The town was quiet, recovering from the festivities from last night. He could see the lingering smoke from the bonfire as the workers continued to final parts of the cleanup. As the sun rose into the sky, reaching into the late morning, Kento woke up, hair an absolute mess, room scattered with both his and your clothes strewn everywhere, and with you wrapped around him, happily sleeping away. As he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, the memories of last night came at him in full force as well. He could feel every little movement you made while your soft snores sounded off throughout the room. How you curled into him. usually, sex… it was a chore, something that only caused him more stress than to relive it. Yesterday, it changed everything for him, a strong connection in so little time. 

He wanted more.

Originally, he was supposed to be meeting his client, the actual reason for him being in this town. Yet, the moment he met you, he almost completely forgot about that until he saw the notification appear at the top of his phone the moment he woke up. 

“Would you like a tour of the orchard?” Your voice suddenly cut in through the comfortable silence as you shimmied back into your clothes from last night. 

Kento blinked, before swiftly turning his head towards you, “really? A tour? What for?”

You shrugged your head, “maybe I just want to spend more time with you, or maybe I just want to.”

He looked over at you as you shimmied into your dress, as he began to turn around, something within him pulling, something tugging away at his heart. lifting his arms,  He wanted to go, something within pushed him to go, he wanted to walk side by side with you as you introduced him to everything you hold dear to your heart. He wished to see your smile in full force as he took a closer look at tall trees bearing the pomme fruit with you. However, the thoughts of his prior engagement came to him, he was a man of his word, and he knew the tour would cut into the time of his meeting, the reason why he was here. 

“Unfortunately,” he could see the light in your eyes slowly fade as you explained his impending meeting within the next hour and a half, and something within him died inside at the spur of your disappointment. 

However, a sudden buzzing within his hands caught his attention, he would have ignored it, but his eyes caught onto the notification, realizing that the notification was from the man he was holding the meeting with. 

R.H : Unfortunately, I won’t be able to make it to my meeting. Is it possible to reschedule?

Usually, this kind of thing would irritate him, anger him really. Kento had half a mind to kick this man to the curb and not bother with the possible investment. However, he took a glance over at you, the sun shining brightly behind your form, heat rising within him before looking back down at his phone.

This wasn't him, this was out of character for him, yet, everything lined up and clicked within his head. 

Kento: That's fine, we can meet up tomorrow at the same time.

With that, he shut his phone before facing you, “it seems my prior engagement needed to be rescheduled, and now I’m free for the day.” 

Your eyes widened, and your smile appeared on your face, “then… we should get going huh? Mr. Nanami?” you winked, teasing him with his last name

“I remembered telling you to call me Kento,” he stated.

The wind blew in between the leaves of the trees, carrying the smell of each apple as he continued down the path with you. His hands were in his pockets as the two of you engaged in conversation about the history of the Orchard. Kento could see it in your eyes, just how much you loved and cared for this place. You saw almost each and every tree being planted here, whether as a baby, teen, or adult. 

When the two of you arrived at the Orchard, you two were suddenly greeted by Yuuji, who still had his wide smile, even with bandages around his eye, padded with gauze, and Megumi, the black-spiky-haired boy who was in rage seeing Yuuji being hurt like that last night. Kento took a glance down at you, seeing your eyes shine with a multitude of emotions, confusion as to why they were here, happiness to even see them, and also sadness, especially when your eyes laid upon Yuuji’s impromptu injury. 

“Nanamin!” Yuuji waved at the two of you, while the boy, whose name Kento later learned was Megumi, only stood there, keeping his eyes on the two of you.

“Yuuji, you spelled and said his name wrong, there’s no ‘n’ at the end of his name,” you pointed out, crossing his arms.

“Eh?” Yuuji froze for a minute, Megumi calling him an “idiot” before softly tapping him on the back of his head. 

“Sorry! I must have misheard you!” Yuuji sheepishly apologized, a wavering smile on his face. 

Kenot held his hands up, shaking his head,, “no need.”

Megumi’s eyes shifted between the two of you, before focusing on the cart that Kento was holding for you. He insisted on pulling it while you walked to the Orchard. 

“What are the two of you doing here? I thought I sent you two and the rest home for the weekend! You’re not needed here,” you started, stepping closer to him.

“The rest of them went to the city, and we didn’t feel like going so we thought we’d come back here!” 

“He dragged me here, because he forgot that you gave us the weekend off. '' Megumi deadpanned, his arms crossed. 

Kento’s heart lifted at the dynamic between the two boys, watching as Yuuji sulked underneath Megumi’s words. He took a moment to glance at them as well, only seeing that same soft, faraway look and smile on your face as well. After a moment, the two of them looked over at the two of you again, glancing in between you.

“Say, since the Orchard is closed… Why is Nanamin even here?”

It seems Yuuji wouldn't let go of the misspelling, now using it as some kind of nickname for Kento. 

“Uuuuh,” you started, glancing over at Kento.

Megumi used that moment to take a closer look at you, glancing over at Kento, before his eyes widened, before a slight look of disdain appeared on his face, before taking a step back from the two of you. 

“...we ran into each other in town, and I wanted to give him a tour of the place, while he was here.”

He felt something impalpable jump within him the moment he felt your hands graze gains the roughness of his own. Kento saw you shaking your head, before pointing to the main house. 

“In the storage closet in the classroom, there’s a bunch of packages that Toge and Yuta were supposed to unpack, since you're here now, you can do that for them. After that, I don’t care what you do, just be safe when you’re doing it. I’ll add the extra overtime to your next checks.” The two boys nodded, with Yuuji giving you a salute before heading towards the back of the house where the packages were located. 

Kento gave the two boys a quick goodbye as well, when they disappeared behind the house, he followed right after you. Once inside the house, following you towards the kitchen once more, Kento spoke first. 

“They seem like really great kids,” he started, glancing over at you, seeing how much you smiled when you thought about your two employees.

“Yeah, they are. Everyone who works here is amazing… you know, Megumi used to live here too.”

His eyebrows worked as the image of the solemn, quiet boy appeared in his head, “really?”

You nodded your head, as the two of you reached the front door of the Main House, “yeah, his dad was the first employee ever hired here, and they needed a place to stay so my grandmother let them. They moved out when I returned from college,” you stated, swinging open the or after unlocking it. 

All around him, he smelled you all around, dissipated and deconcentrated, but it still smelled of you. 

“Sit down, and let me change my clothes, and then we’ll come and take the tour.

You pointed towards the couch, which he dutifully sat at before watching you go into the kitchen where he waited for you to change out of the clothes from yesterday. As he waited, he took a moment to look around the welcoming area further, leaning back against the couch and its cushions. The backlights that lit up the menu behind the desk were off, and the desk was empty, void of any life. All through the floors were dark cherry wood like the rest of the house, it was covered by a red carpet, mixed with other colors such as sandy beige and black, with different geometric shapes designed in thin it as well. He lifted his head, taking a glance at the walls, and remembered the copious amounts of books sitting on the shelves. Reaching out to the one closest to him, he grabbed one of the books. 

“Alice in wonderland…” he mumbled, taking a moment to flip through the worn and torn book. 

A few pages in he noticed scribbling handwriting within the margins of said book, seeing notes concerning how much this person disdained the Mad Hatter, your childish scribbles, seeing your name at the end of them. He smiled, as he thought of you, a little you, possibly reading this book, sitting on this very same couch. 

Suddenly, the sound of the door flying open took away his attention as he saw you walking through the doorway. Your hair was now all up in a high ponytail, and you were wearing a full brown velvet tracksuit, with your hands tucked in your pockets as you walked over to him. 

“What are you holding?” You asked, leaning over to read the title. 

“Originally, I was interested in the story, but I found the scribblings within the margins to be much more interesting.”

Standing closer to him, as he opened the book, your eyes widened as they landed on your rambles as a child. You let out a laugh, embarrassed as you reached out, gently taking the book from his hands.

“I had a lot of thoughts about this book,” is all you said, flipping through the book, before closing it. 

Closing the book, before placing it on the shelf, before turning towards him and clapping your hands together, “shall we? I want to get a few things from the kitchen, and I'll need your help.”

With no other words, your hands grazed together as you led him to the back of the house. Standing in the main kitchen, walking past the containers filled with pastries ready for the grand opening of your cafe. You told him to pick a few, to have while you take him on the tour. Kento had an idea that you don't usually do this, but he couldn't complain, not when the apple donuts and apple custard tarts were calling his name once again. Kento already accepted the possibility of him getting a cavity the more he spent time in this Orchard. 

He helped you wrap the pastries in pretty, red-checkered with little apples in between them parchment paper, before putting them in the basket. At first, you wanted to carry it, but he demanded that he carry the basket, not budging as the two of you used the back door, going down the steps to enter the grove of trees. 

That’s how the two of you found yourselves, deep into the trees, while you told him the history behind the Orchard while telling him what apple each tree around him grew. The fact that you knew, barely looking at the apples currently growing, and didn’t even look at the signs posted near them. As he stood in the midst of them he felt himself transformed, the wind blowing between the leaves reminding him similarly of his grandmother’s. A bitter smile appeared on his face, his eyes on the browning leaves that slowly dropped with the turning of the season. 

You lead him further and further into the orchard, the density in between trees getting tighter and tighter every step. The already-faraway sun getting further and further away, the trees soon began to cover whatever light that could seep in. However, ahead he could see some semblance of what seems to be a clearing. His eyes narrowed, unable to make out exactly what he was seeing until the two of you arrived at the entrance. 

It was like a little paradise, with a small pond, with its own little waterfall as well, he could see little fishes swimming within it as well. There were marble benches not too far from the pond, each one having its own intricate designs, each of them different from the other as well. However, what really caught his eye was the gazebo, which was a bit away from the pond, but not too far. His eyes then went to the trees surrounding the little pond clearing and noticed how different they were from the other apple trees. Then, he saw the familiar red-purplish fruit hanging off the leaves. He looked over at you, seeing you approach one of the trees, reaching up before taking one of the many pomegranates off the tree’s stems. 

“Take a seat, I don’t show this place off to just anyone!”

Blinking, he eyed the gazebo once more, before approaching it. Walking up the wooden steps, he took a seat at the sole table provided in the open area. He placed the basket before looking at the full detailing of the cabana. Flowers were hanging in the open arches of the gazebo, peonies, roses, and magnolia all mixed to create a beautiful floral flourish. Whoever built this has a good eye for design, he thought to himself, before shifting his focus to your body, his eyes catching the moment you jumped up to grab another pomegranate fruit. 

“Do you need help,” he couldn't help but call out, watching as you shook your head, jumping up one more time. 

With your last jump, you began to walk over to where he was sitting, four pomegranates in your hands as well. Smiling, you took the space right beside Kento, handing over two pomegranates. With a soft “thank you” he took them before pulling the basket of baked goodies in between the two of you. You took an apple custard tart while Kento unwrapped an apple cake donut, taking a tentative bite, quickly savoring the richness of the donut, mixing in with the sweet custard glaze. The conversation between the two of you was light, with Kento asking about what exactly this clearing was. 

“I had the project started the week after my grandmother died, it’s like an ode to her and all her work. She loved coming to this area basically to relax, ro get away from my granddad or my mother’s nagging about her pulling too much weight for her age,” your snicker was contagious, Kento’s own laughter following your own.

“A strong woman in her own right, huh?” Kento pitched in, taking another bite of his donut.

You nodded your head, “that she was,” you hummed, smiling for a short moment. 

Suddenly, you shook your head frantically, “I just realize I’ve been talking about myself this whole time! What about you, you know, I never got to ask about what business you had to deal with while in Aquirine.” 

He shrugged his shoulders, a grimace appearing on his face, “there’s nothing to say about me. I’m from the city, and I’m a financial executive at my job–”

“Financial executive, is that just a fancy way of saying you’re the CFO?”

He said nothing, but his silence already spoke enough for you, 

However, your words interjected into the budding silence, “CFO at a big company, that’s not “nothing”,  now is it?” your words held a bit of teasing to it, nudging his body with your elbow.

His grimace disappeared, a half-smile appearing at your words, “I mean for most people yeah, but I found the job… well it was all I could do, given what I studied in college.”

“But you’re young too, to be offered such a huge role in so little time, right?”

“I was offered the job right after I graduated, so you would be right,” in the five years after he graduated and had been the top executive at Gojo, he’d never really stop and think about how much of an achievement that was for other people. 

He’s never had to explain himself, the people who needed to know about his role at the company already knew about it. The investors all vetted each and every person Satoru picked to fulfill the executive board of the company. To talk about himself, that was a first for him to do so. All he’s had to do is do the work, go home, and repeat, every once in a while, answer a call from his father, who at the end of the three-minute call would ask him for some money. The next app he was on was his bank app, requesting another wire transfer, lest he wished for his father to bombard his phone like he would do so before. 

“I’m getting the sense that you don’t enjoy the job as much as you want to,” you spoke up, taking the last bite of your custard, and brushing the crumbs off your hands. 

He blinked, but before he could even say anything to your statement, something yellowish caught his eye, right by your lips. 

“Oh you have something on your…” he trailed off, using his hands to point out the stain on his own face.

Perking up, your tongue flicked out of your mouth, but it was too short to fully clean off the area. No thinking, Kento’s right hand flew up to your face, his thumb poking out and cleaning off the custard dollop staining your lovely face. The action had a gasp leaving your mouth, staring wide-eyed at him as he slowly tried to retract his hands, but your own hand stopped him, palm to knuckle as you let him fondle your cheek.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he started, feeling his face blooming with heat.

Kento felt like a little schoolboy, no longer repressed of all his emotions, was what this was? He’d never shown interest in someone throughout his formative years, nothing but his father’s words keeping him down within his books. The feeling of softness pulling him out of his memories, his brown eyes looking down to see your hands touching his, a napkin covering your hands, cleaning the custard off of his hands. He looked at your face, only a smile, indulgent in its nature, on your face. 

“It’s fine, Kento,” you said, “thank you for getting it off my face.”

It was a soothing silence, as Kento felt his body beginning to lean towards you. He watched as your eyes flitted between his eyes and his lips before your own lips fluttered open. Your lips were barely touching, but before the kiss between the two of you could continue, a loud shout suddenly cut the two of you off, catching both you and his direct attention. Your eyes widened at the same time, before the two of you leaped into action, running towards where the shout came from. As the two of you ran, more sounds began to echo and bounce against threes. Then, you heard it, clear as day. 

Yuuji’s voice, screaming at someone to “GET OFF HIM!”

Your heart sank, something within you knowing that the “him” Yuuji was talking about was Megumi, as he was the only one that was with Yuuji. Pushing through the trees, the two of you broke through daylight, finding commotion happening in front of you. You could see the familiar fluff of pink hair being held back by a grown man, Yuuji trying his best to fight out of the man’s hold. 

“Yuuji! Megumi!” You couldn't help but shout, your heart racing as you suddenly saw black spiky hair on the ground, covered in sand. 

However, a hand came up, and pushed you back, suddenly stopping you in your tracks. Looking up, you had no time to see Kento shrug off his jacket, telling you to wait here, before rushing towards the man holding Yuji and the other one stomping on Megumi’s. 

“Kento!” You couldn’t help but yell, watching as he easily subdued the two men with ease. 

Honestly, if you blinked, you could have missed it. He caught the one holding Yuuji by surprise, wrapping his bicep around the man's neck, before pulling him into a chokehold. The rise caused him to let Yuuji go, who immediately went towards the grown man stomping on Megumi. However, Kento easily knocked out the man in the chokehold, getting to the man before Yuuji could, and pushing him off of him. That man, who was more ready for Kento, threw a punch towards him, but it was too wide, Kento was able to easily dodge it, before sending one punch towards the man, the force causing his body to twist almost a whole 180 degrees before easily falling onto the floor. 

Immediately seeing how the danger was over, you rushed over to your boys, where Yuuji was holding up Megumi, whose eyes were fluttering but still attentive. Your heart dropped at the sight of blood dripping out of his mouth, as well as cuts dripping with blood all over his face.

“Are the two of you okay?” You knew the answer yet, your heart still needed to hear their verbal confirmation, a step for you to calm yourself down from the ordeal. 

“I’m… I’m fine, but Megumi–” Yuuji cut himself off as Megumi suddenly began to cough, and cough hard. 

Your eyes widened at the gargled saliva mixed in with blood, spat out onto the ground during his fit, and immediately pulled out your phone. 

“Yuuji, can you carry him to the clinic?! Please!”

Yuuji nodded, but before he could, two large hands came in between you, you and Yuuji watching as Kento came in, before easily carrying Megumi, placing him on his back. Your eyes glanced at where the men were lying, only to find them gone from their position, only to see their knocked-out bodies. Looking back at Kento, seeing how disheveled his smoothed-back hair was, he was no longer wearing his glasses on his face as well. His clothes were wrinkled, and his shirt nearly pulled out of its tucked position. 

“Yuuji, if you don’t mind, can you just tell me where the clinic is? I would hate to leave her all alone before the police can get here.”

Yuuji blinked for a moment, before slowly nodding his head, telling him where Kento could find the clinic. With no other words, he began making his way down the road, Yuuji and yourself watching him. With nothing else, hoping Kento could get here in time, you dialed the Sheriff's number, knowing it by heart. The phone rang for only a short moment, before the line picked up, and the female operator spoke. Quickly as you could, you relayed to the operator what happened, and she said that officers would be there as soon as possible. You also told them about Kento, telling them he was taking Megumi and may need some help to get him there.

Before you knew it, three police cars pulled up at the front of your home, and the Sheriff included all surrounding the front entrance of the Orchard. Immediately, the two of you pointed to the knocked-out men, who were beginning to wake up. Quickly the two of them were arrested. For a moment, they had to separate Yuuji and yourself as they took your statements, each relaying exactly what happened as the two of you remembered it, Yuuji’s account was more needed because he saw everything that happened, while you only saw the aftermath. The two of you were stuck in the cold for a long time, talking and watching as the officers and the long crime scene unit within town took note of everything that happened, pictures, blood samples. 

Before you knew it, both you and Yuuji had been outside for hours, seeing the sun beginning to go down just as another police car began to pull up. Not even bothering to wait before the car fully stopped, blond hair exited out from the front, Kento making his way over to the two of you. The sudden sight of him overwhelmed you, your knees buckling after everything. Quickly, he rushed over to you, catching you with the help of Yuuji as well. 

“Megumi?” was the first thing you said to him, as the three of you began to make your way towards the house. 

“He’s fine, the doctor said he’ll be fine, I left as soon as his father arrived. I didn’t want to leave him alone.”

You could only nod your head, Kento’s words providing you with a bit of consolation. Your thoughts flew to Toji, how it would feel for him to see his only child lying in a clinic bed.  Knowing Toji, it’s only a matter of time before he finds out exactly who caused this incident… 

Incident… as the three of you took your seats on the couch in the welcome area, ignoring the officers that would walk past the three of you. Your mind now begins to clear up, the fog of the events slowly dissipating as you slowly relax in the depths of your home. Now, you were able to think, with the confirmation that both Yuuji and Megumi are safe. The events of three days ago suddenly came into your mind. That day, when you and Toji both agreed that your uncle was planning something and that things were not over yet. It had been only three days ago, and now your employees are being jumped. Anger spurred within you, but no surprise, as you knew your uncle was exactly the type of person to send goons to beat up your…

Suddenly, another thought came to your mind, a thought that was much more grime and alarming. 

The Orchard was closed, specifically for the holiday. Everyone in town knew that Yuuji and Megumi, as well as none of your employees, were ever supposed to be here. The only person that was supposed to be here was you because you LIVE here. 

If Megumi and Yuuji weren’t here… hell if Kento wasn’t here…

Your heart began to beat rapidly, your breathing becoming slowly unsteady the more and more you thought about it. Too unsteady, as it suddenly caught the attention of the two men sitting right next to you. 

“Boss?” Yuuji called out to you, his hands coming up to your arms, “are you okay?!”

A large hand came up to your face, the feeling of rough skin and gauze wrapped around knuckles pressing against your skin. Slowly, your face turned towards brown eyes, “breathe…”

Kento’s voice was the embodiment of calm, the lull of his voice slowly guiding you out of your budding panic attack. Taking a deep breath, you could feel the hot tears trailing down your cheeks, but it was all you could do not to break down into short breaths and sobs. Kento guided you as well, taking deep breaths with you to help. Soon, your tears slowed, and your breathing stabilized once again, at least enough for you to open your mouth. 

“I…” you began, “I think they were here for me…” you revealed to the two of them.

Your eyes flickered in between them, gauging their reactions. Yuuji, bless his heart, took a little minute to understand what you meant. But, looking over at Kento’s, who’s eyes slightly widened in alarm, knew exactly what you meant.

“The Orchard is closed, and you were the only person that was supposed to be here, if everything went as normal,” he couldn't hold back the unease in his voice, his hands coming up and slowly rubbing heat into your arms.

Yuuji’s own face turned into one of horror, his hand coming up, brushing away his hair that fell in front of your face. A tense, and unnerved science fell between the three of you, with Kenoto’s hand falling from your face to your shoulders, pulling you in close. The smell of cool citrus and sage calmed you just a bit, your hands coming up, pressing them against his front, snuggling further into his hold. However, before either of you could speak, the door flew open, the three of you jumping before going to see the sudden uproar. Heavy stomps came towards the three of you, before eyeing familiar shaggy black hair and a scar on the side of his lips. Your body went at ease as Toji came closer to you, concern shining in his eyes. 

“Hey, are you okay?” He checked on you, Toji’s eyes solely on you as he pulled you out of Kento’s hold, his eyes scanning over you. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you assured him as best as you could, “you should be with Megumi, he’s the one who actually got hurt.”

“The brat’s fine, made me leave to check on you, the smoker’s with him.” He grumbled, rolling his eyes, but his hands slowly let go. 

Still, you watched as he looked over at Yuuji, making sure that he was okay as well before finally realizing that the two of you were not alone. Kento, realizing that Toji was looking at him, stood up as well. 

“Listen, I never got to thank you for taking my son to the clinic,” Toji murmured, taking a step toward Kento, before holding his hand out. 

Your eyes darted between Kento and Toji, watching in silence as Kento, apprehensive, stuck out his own hand before shaking it as well. The shake went on for a bit too long, both you and Yuuji glancing at each other for a moment before looking at the two men once again. Toji soon enough pulled his hand away, tucking it into his pocket. 

“So, have they figured out who did this?” Toji turned and faced you, “when I got here, the cops were still outside looking over things.”

You sighed, falling right back onto the couch, exasperated, pushing your braids out of your roll, “No nothing yet, but I doubt they’ll find anything right now.”

Yet, as the two of you locked eyes, you knew exactly would be able to do something like this. Your uncle’s grimy smile flashed in your head, remembering how he was surrounded by his goons while on your property. Slowly opening your eyes, staring up at your chandelier ceiling. 

The sound of the door swinging open caught your attention again, this time seeing the Sheriff, Yaga, coming through the door and walking over to you. Immediately, you got up, the rest of the men following as he relayed the situation to you.

“Some of the men took the perpetrators down to the station, but they’re not talking without a lawyer. We’re gonna go ahead and charge them with trespassing, assault and battery and wait for their lawyer to arrive,” Yaga said, adjusting his belt. 

Your body slumped slightly, but you nodded your head, “okay… you think the charges will stick?”

“Most likely yes, it’s very cut and dry and you have security cameras out there so we’ll be needing those too. We’ll also be increasing patrols down this road for the next few days.”

You confirmed that you’d give him the tapes, and after a few more words exchanged, you decided to drop them off first thing tomorrow morning, and with that, he left your home, hearing him walk down the steps and path and eventually driving away. It was all silent in the house once more, with you going back to the couch and slumping into the decorative pillows and upholstery. 

“This is…” you said nothing else, letting out a hefty breath of air.

Suddenly, you heard a beep, glancing over at Toji pulling out his phone and looking at it. 

“Smoker says Megumi fell asleep, and that everything still looks good with him.”

Suddenly, Yuuji stood up, exclaiming, “I need to go be with him!” 

Toji held his hand up, “hold it Pinky, lemme take you, Megumi will kill me if I let you go by yourself. Need to head back there anyways, talk about treatment plans and what not.”

Toji then eyed Kento, before looking over at you, “you trust him?” He pointed at Kento. 

You blinked, glancing over at Kento before looking over Toji, confusion shining in your eyes, but slowly nodding your head. Toji let out a breath of what seemed to be slight relief before turning towards Kento. 

 “Stay with her tonight, Blondie? Don’t want her to be alone until we learn all the details. All we know, they could send more goons.”

Your eyes widened, “wait, Kento you don't need to stay–” but Kento shook his head at your words, before looking over at Toji, nodding his head.

“Never planned to leave in the first place.”

Your eyes widened, looking over at Kento, while Toji nodded, before facing Yuuji and jerking his head towards the door. With no other words exchanged, Yuuji gave you a deep and long hug, taking a deep breath, letting go, and saying that he’ll be back tomorrow before leaving with Toji to go and be with Megumi. Yuuji waved goodbye to Kento, who waved back before walking side by side with Toji. The two of them soon walked out, silence following as well, before hearing Toji’s truck rumble before pulling out into the road. 

Now it was just you and Kento, sitting in the dimmed room.

“I’m sorry,” the words fumbled out of your mouth before thinking about them fully. 

You felt Kento turn towards you, his eyes boring holes into you, “why would you think you need to apologize? This wasn’t your fault. No one could have guessed this would happen.”

Tears began to well in your eyes, despair beginning to take hold of you. Everything came falling down on you, your uncle’s arrival, the incident today, and everything your own flesh and blood has tried to do to get your Orchard for himself. Your body began to shake, your hands coming up to cover your face as sobs began to heave from your body. Immediately, you felt arms and hands around you, Kento’s warm body wrapping itself around you. The room echoed your cries and shouts, but at the same time, you could hear Kento’s soft words, trying his best to comfort you. It felt like an eternity as the two of you sat there.

Kento soon felt you beginning to quiet down, glancing down at you, only to find your eyes shut, face still streaked with salty tears. Your eyelashes glisten underneath the low light as well. He heard soft snores coming for you, your body breathing in and out slowly. He sat there, holding you and watching your face soften, no longer scrunched up from the magnitude of stress you were under. Your nose slightly opens every time you breathe out, your chest rising with every breath you take. The moment he shifted his body, you would react, an incoherent mumble leaving your mouth as you snuggled into his hold. Your hands reach out and grab at the wrinkled fabric of his shirt. 

His heart jumped, before beginning to beat really fast. However, he knew it wasn't safe for you to stay asleep in his arms, so slowly he got up, carefully not to wake you. For a moment, he did not know where to go, glancing around the room, trying to see where exactly the stairs were that would give him access to the second floor. With grace, he walked through the back door, entering the kitchen of the bakery and gift shop, before seeing a wooden door at the back of the white room, looking very out of place. Walking towards it, using one hand to hold while reaching out the door, only to find the doorknob barely moving, the door locked. 

He cursed underneath his breath, before the memory of your keys, which he remembered being in your pockets. Kento fished them out, and he stood there for a few moments, going through each key before a brown, rustic one easily entered the slot, testing it and the door slowly creaked open. Kento was now faced with a dark stairway, with another door at the end of it. He then closed the door behind him, before making his way up. The steps were creaky, and with no light, he had to take slow and cautionary steps until he felt the point of his shoes pressing up against a wall, well a door. He reached down, and luckily this door was unlocked, before pushing it open. 

In it, he was transported to a whole new area, a place where it looked like someone was living. The walls were painted white and he could see different green plants, potted and placed in different areas of the living room. Ahead of him, he could see stairs, light brown colored ones with space missing in between them. It looked completely different from the vintage coziness downstairs, more modern, but the hay-weaved decorations and the plants, as well as the clean walls, gave its own version of coziness as well. 

Kento kicked his shoes off, placing them at the door, before going up the stairs. Upstairs looked like a normal hallway, eyeing the closed white doors, before his eyes caught onto silver. At the end of the hallway, his eyes caught onto a door with silver butterflies all traveling in a curve on the door, as well as gold entails decorated the outer parts of the door as well. He couldn't help it smile, it was so very you, in the little time he’d gotten to know you. 

Quietly, he approached the door, slowly turning the doorknob, and pushing the door. Kento entered into a smaller space, of what seemed to be an office, a cozy, intimate one. The desk was white, and you had both a desktop and a laptop on it. There were stacked books around it as well, and flowers within an old vase. Walking past your desk towards the pried door, where he could see a semblance of a bed. In your actual bedroom, the space was much bigger, your bed pressed up against the far right of the wall. You had a huge shelf, four rows, and each either had a stack of books, framed photos, or potted plants with huge, thick leaves dangling in the air. 

Approaching your bed, Kento bent over, slowly relaxing his hold on you, allowing you to slide easily into the comfort of your sheets. However, your grip on him was tight, despite your unconscious want to be in the familiar depths and redolence within your bed. With a little more force, he pried your hands off his shoulders, placing you inside your comforter before pulling the heavy blanket over you. 

He took a few steps from you, his aim to quietly leave you to get your rest after today’s stressful events. However, as he walked, something on your shelf caught his eye, and he stopped mid-step as his eyes widened. The picture was obviously a few years ago, with a slightly-younger you smiling in the image. However, standing in front of you was Megumi, who was even younger-looking, not looking a day over ten years old. He wasn’t smiling, which seemed to be a norm for the teenager, but his cheeks were pink, looking away from the camera like he was embarrassed.

And standing beside you, was Megumi’s father, whose name he learned was Toji, his arm wrapped tightly around you, look, a loving look in his eye as he stared right at you, while he looked at the camera. But that wasn’t what caught Kento’s attention, no. What caught his attention was the still-in-motion kiss that he was placing on your cheek. Your smile was wide, in fact, you looked like you were giggling in the photo as well. 

The memories of how Toji rushed to your side came flooding back to him, how he pulled you towards him, the exasperation on his face. Kento felt something within him break as he looked over the photo. 

Who was he kidding? Of course you and Megumi’ father had passed, after mentioning that he was the only other non-family employee to live here. That his son used to live here as well. To get his hopes up like that… he thought back to the night the two of you spent together… He didn’t even know what got into him? To get his hopes up? For a woman he met a mere three days ago?

He was hanging around Satoru too much, to be able to dream like that. 

Quietly, he placed the frame back down onto the shelf, before making his way out of the room. He closed the door with silence, before stepping right back into your living room. Kento eyed the couch, seeing the blanket resting on it, before sighing. No matter what, he knew it would never sit right in his heart if he left you all alone, after an attack like that. He walked over to your couch, swinging his feet onto the softness, before pulling the blanket as much as he could over his body. 

It was like it all came crashing down on him the moment he rested his head on one of your couch pillows. Like a weight double, his own pressed up against him, closing his eyes before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

The sound of sizzling was the first thing that woke him up.  The next was the sound of soft humming as well. A hoarse groan left his throat, as Kento slowly pried his eyes open, only to be hit with the smell of sizzling bacon as his senses slowly woke up with him. The moment he tried to move his limbs, only to be hit with a dull ache and pains, causing a pained groan to leave his lips. The sound of hums suddenly stopped, the sounds of metal clanging against something before soft steps began to make their way over to his body on the couch. 

He could see something suddenly standing over him, his eyes narrowing as he tried to blink out the sudden swell of liquid in his eyes. Once he did, he could see you, now well-rested and standing over him. 

“You’re awake, you know, you could have stayed in one of the guest rooms,” you said, taking a few steps towards him. 

Slowly, despite his aching limbs, he pushed himself up out of his sleep position, pulling the blanket off of him, “I didn’t want to intrude more than I already had, but I didn’t want to leave you alone.”

“Well, atleast go take a shower, sleeping on the couch couldn't have been good for your back. Some hot water will do you some good, middle door to the left of the hallway.” You instructed him, pointing towards the one hallway within this apartment-style home.

He blinked at you, watching your hands resting on your hips. You were no longer wearing the clothes from yesterday. Rather, your hair was wrapped in a beautiful, shining, purple silk scarf while you were wearing a huge black t-shirt, and thick, cotton shorts. Quickly, his eyes averted from your bare legs, ignoring the sudden skip of his heart, before nodding, not saying a word as he got up, his body easily towering over you before making his way to the hallway. He could feel your eyes on him as he made it to the bathroom, slowly opening the door. The bathroom was small and quaint, but obviously maximized the little space it was given. To his right, a little washer and dryer was there, where you most likely did your own personal laundry. It was smaller than he expected. Ahead he could see a shower behind some glass doors, slowly stepping inside before closing the door behind him. Slowly, he began to strip off his clothes, folding them as he went, and placing them on the sink as well. On that same sink, he could see a rectangular box of unopened soap, as well as a wash rag sitting neatly on top of it as well as a note from you. 

For you, Kento ♡

He picked it up, a smile on his face, some of his tension smoothing away as he placed the note to the side, before grabbing the soap and rag. Now naked, grimacing at the way his back ached when he stretched his arms up. You were right, the couch was not good for his back. Reaching for the water switch, the appliance was easy for him to understand as he waited for the water to reach a perfect warm temperature. The moment he felt slight steam billowing from the surface of the pouring water, he stepped in, holding back deep groans as the hot water began to soothe his pain. As he pressed the rag onto itself, spreading the water all throughout the cotton cloth, before rubbing the soap. His mind faded, going over every event that brought him into your home. Meeting you in the Square, following you home, watching you as you gave him your own personal tour, showing him a special palace close to your heart. The men beating up Yuuji and Megumi, the realization that those men could have been coming for you. Your grueling sobs. 

His heart clenched as the memories of your painful cries came back, how he held you until your sobs eventually turned into soft snores, your body giving up on you underneath the amount of stress you were under. How he carried you to your room, and how, 

The flash of the picture frame came back to him, of you, young Megumi, and Toji.

Slowly, he stopped washing himself as he thought back to it, despite his efforts to try and stop thinking about it. It was none of his business after all, if anything, he was the outsider, the two of you had known each other for years. He had… he had no business speculating on what was going on between the two of you. 

So then, he thought to himself, as he continued to pull the lathered cloth up and down his body, did his heart feel like this?

Once fully washed, he rinsed the soap off his body, making sure he got every nook and cranny of his body before slowly turning the water off. Slowly opening the glass door, he reached out for the towel that you left for him, drying himself off while still standing in the shower. Once mostly dry, he wrapped the towel around his waist before looking around. The only clothes he could see were his own, and he didn’t feel like wearing his stiff dress shirt once again. 

As he was thinking, a knock came to the door,  before hearing your soft, muffled voice coming from the other side, “Kento, is everything okay?”

Blinking, before he knew it, he was already on the other side of the small bathroom, reaching towards the door knob. Pulling it open, the two of you locked eyes, watching as yours widened at the sight of him. 

“Do you have any spare clothes I can borrow?” He asked, not fully gauging how you suddenly froze at the sight of him. 

Blinking, now realizing you weren't saying anything for a moment, calling out your name before waving his hand in front of your face. The sudden movement must have broken you out of the sudden trance. Suddenly, he found that your eyes were averting his own, as you asked him to repeat what he asked. Kento’s eyebrows quivered, but didn’t want to ask what was wrong with you, only repeated his question. He saw how you nodded quickly, before scurrying away towards your room, watching the door suddenly shut close behind you. 

He glanced around, before slowly stepping back inside the bathroom, not wanting the steam to billow and heat up the hallway on accident. He waited for a few moments, before taking a moment to glance at himself in the mirror, seeing his naked chest, how the water glistened against the hairs of his chest, arms, and abdomen. He continued to stare at himself, suddenly realizing exactly what made you freeze up right in front of him. However, despite that, he could feel a slight elation that he even made you feel that way.

Big, that was your first thought, your heart skipping two beats per second as you slammed your bedroom door behind you. Heavy breathing echoed through the room as you pressed a hand against your skin, the contrast between your cold hands and the heat bubbling underneath your deep skin.

He was so big… you knew this about him or had some idea of it, but his body was covered in the blanket of that night. Squeaking, covering your mouth at just how much you enjoyed looking at him. The water pearls dripping from his body, his wet hair sticking onto his face… Squealing, you smacked yourself in the face once again, before taking even more deep breaths, trying to calm yourself as much as you could. Removing your hands, you moved towards your closet, where your father’s old clothes were stored. Shifting through the chest you had placed them in when you renovated their room, you fished out a huge red plaid shirt, as well as a pair of sweatpants. You placed the folded clothes in your arms neatly before closing the trunk and making your way out of the room. 

The moment you stepped out of the room, your heart kicked up again. You took slow steps towards the bathroom before giving a couple knocks on the door. It was all silent, no response for a few seconds too long.

“Ken… Kento, I have some clothes here for you…” you started, only for your voice to trail off as the door opened slightly, a huge hand coming out from the crack.

“Thank you,” he said while behind the door. 

Blinking, you slowly put the clothes in his hands, watching as he took them before slowly closing the door behind him. You stood there a moment, a budding hope within you dashing when you only saw his arm coming out for the bathroom once more. Shaking your head, you turned around, going towards your kitchen to finish the last of the breakfast you were making for the two of you. On your neatly made dining table, you had a stack of pancakes on two different plates, your usual one, a pink heart-shaped plate that Nobara got you for your birthday, and getting out a handmade plate you made while at a pottery class in the city. You stacked three pancakes each, before getting the matching mini plate to Nanami’s before putting scrambled eggs, bacon, and turkey sausage on it as well. The smell of coffee still sitting in your coffee machine mixed in with the smell of breakfast as well. On the table, you had pitchers of orange juice, apple juice, and water as well. 

Suddenly, you heard something behind beginning to creak, turning your head as a tall figure escaped from your bathroom. You watched as Kento entered your living room, now fully clothed. Luckily, the shirt fit him perfectly, too perfectly, raced through your mind as quickly as it left. Swiftly, you turned your head before facing the small feast you made.

“Come, come,” you beckoned him, gesturing to his seat. 

With no words, he walked over to you, before taking his seat at the dining table. You could see him eyeing everything that you’ve made. 

“You didn’t have to make all this for me,” he said, watching as you placed two plastic pitchers of syrup, maple brown sugar syrup, and apple brown sugar cinnamon syrup on the table as well.

“I wanted to, to thank you for yesterday,” you smiled, taking your seat right beside him at the circular table. 

“There’s no need to thank me for that,” his tone held slight confusion as if he really couldn't comprehend why you would thank him for this. 

“But there is, Kento. Don’t worry about it, just eat, please? For me?” You smiled at him, picking up your fork. 

You waited for him to pick up his fork and knife, seeing him quietly say thanks to the food before beginning to dig in the food. At first, it was all quiet, but your eyes were on Kento as he took a bite out of his sliced pancake, after he poured the maple syrup onto it. You watched as his eyes lit up, before he took a bigger slice of teh pancake, drenched in syrup and butter before eating it in one go as well. You then focused on your food, a quiet yet warm silence between the two of you, the two of you preferred not to speak while you ate your breakfast. The sounds of knives grating into the plate and the muffled sounds of chewing were all you could hear as you ate your pancakes and eggs.

However, as breakfast began to disappear, conversation picked up between the two of you, no longer wishing for the silence between the two of you. Giving him a hypothetical question, (would you rather travel to the future, or to the past?) The two of you argued your own points, with you wanting to go to the future while he wished to go to the past. As the conversation continued, the two had long finished your breakfast, with you getting up and wanting to clean up, but Kento made you sit down, taking your plate. You watched, a smile curling on your face as Kento washed your plates and cups with ease. However, not wanting to stay stagnant, you cleaned up the syrup and pitchers of juice you had, placing them back in your fridge. When everything from breakfast was clean, the two of you approached your couch, wanting to relax. 

“Okay, but if you go back to the past, you’re just seeing things you’ve already seen, even if you wanna change it. I think going to the future to see what you become is much better,” you argued, sitting down on the couch. 

Kento opened his mouth, about to argue back, when all of sudden, a ping caught both your and his attention. Putting your water bottle down, you patted yourself down for your phone before remembering that you left it in your room, looking back at Nanami as he pulled his phone out of the sweatpants pocket. You watched as his eyebrows furrowed down, squirting at whatever popped up on his phone. 

“Everything okay, Kento?” you asked him, taking a sip of your water bottle.

After a beat, he nodded his head, his thumb tapping away at the screen, “The person I'm supposed to be meeting with just messaged me. Saying “he’s excited about the meeting and hopes I’m ready for the offer he’s about to make me.”

Right. The meeting. The whole reason he was here in this small town, to begin with. Yesterday, he was supposed to meet up with this mystery person but they rescheduled the meeting, which allowed Kento to follow you to the Orchard, giving him a personal tour of everything. 

You hummed, glancing between him and his phone, “do you… do you know what kind of offer this person is about to make you? You don’t have to tell me, either.”

Kento shook his head, “it’s fine, because I don’t even know what it’s about. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for my boss.”

“Your boss? What, did he send you on a wild goose chase?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Kento grumbled, looking away with a grimace on his face.

The look caused you to giggle, covering your head with your face. He heard the sound, looking over at you. However, after laughing, and thinking about Kento’s meeting situation, something within you rang off, confusion striking you for a bit. 

“Wait, so then why did you have to meet him? And not someone under you or even your boss? This is his idea, after all?” 

Kento sighed, placing his large hand against his forehead, “I don’t know why he does half the shit he does, but to answer your question, I was doing business in the city nearby, and he asked me to go and see if this was something to look into more.”

“Ohhh,” you stretched out, taking another sip of water, “so you were just convenient.”

You suppressed your smile as he froze midst taking a sip of his own water bottle, his eyes shifting over to look at you. After a beat of silence, you couldn't hold back your laughter, throwing your head back at the way he reacted to your words. 

“I’m…” laughter, “oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” you tried to speak, but your laughter obviously gave away your true feelings. 

He didn’t say anything, but instead a small appeared at the sound of your laughter as he took another sip of shi water. 

“It’s fine, I’m thinking of rescheduling again after everything that happened yesterday–” he started but you cut in, your back straightening up in alarm

“Oh no, don't do that! I’ll be fine,” you said, shaking your head at him, “there’s no need to reschedule! Go to your meeting! It’s the reason you came here in the first place, right?”

He looked over at you, “but to leave you all alone after everything–” but once again, you cut in

“I’ll be fine, Yaga increased patrols around here and I’m sure no one will try anything for the time you’re gone. My other kids should be back from their trip to the city and when they hear about this, I’m sure they’ll come rushing over.” You assured him. 

Kento’s face twisted, tucking his phone into his pocket, “Are you sure?”

You nodded your head, getting up, before reaching for him, “it’s fine, it’s fine,” you reiterated. 

As you began to push him at the door, he suddenly stopped, almost knocking you over. He turned to look at you, watching as you stood up from nearly falling onto the wooden floor. 

“At least give me your number, so I know you can reach me.”

Your eyes widened when he said that, watching as his eyes intensified. Heart kicked up, and your throat went dry, you nodded your head, before telling him to wait here. Scurrying away like a little cute mouse, you swiped your phone off of your bed before going toward him once again. The two of you exchanged numbers, and Kento reiterated that you should call him if anything happens. With your final confirmation, he grabbed his bag of clothes, and the two of you made your way down the stairs of your apartment into the huge bakery kitchen, to the front of the house. 

“Thank you again, for everything Kento,” your words were soft as you looked up at him. 

The afternoon frost was nipping at your skin but didn't bother either of you as he stood amid the doorway.

“Like I said, there was no need to thank me, I’m just glad to have been there. Who knows what could have happened to you,” his hand came up, pushing the lone braid in your face away, allowing him to see your gorgeous smile. 

Looking up at him, an inexplicable amount of courage suddenly crushed through you. Reaching up to the tips of your toes, your lips suddenly pressed themselves against his cheek, leaving a soft and slightly long kiss on them. Your heart was beating in between your ears, and nervous heat was erupting underneath your skin, but you didn’t regret it, watching as Kento’s eyes widened at the sudden smooch placed on his face. You could see pink surging all across his face as he turned to look over at you. 

“That’s for good luck, with your meeting as well,” you said, leaning against the open door, one hand on the doorknob. 

“Tha… thank you,” is all he could say before turning around, taking the few stairs down for the front of your porch.

You watched with a smile on your face as he walked away, waiting until he was a bit way down the road, before closing the door behind you. The moment the door closed, a loud sequel flew out of your mouth, your back hitting the door. Covering your face as you slowly, slide down, 

“Why did I do that?!” you screamed at yourself, your body twisting in turning under an amalgamation of nervousness and embarrassment.

“Please stop,” Megumi deadpanned, pushing you away as much as he could while you took a wet rag to his face, cleaning off all the grime on his face. 

“Well, I can’t just leave you looking like that,” you exclaimed, taking a seat beside his hospital bed. 

 Thirty minutes after Kento left, you decided to go and visit Megumi while at the clinic. In your hands held a basket of treats, including two slices of apple-rum cake, Megumi’s favorite dessert. Yuuji and Nobara were sitting on the other side, leaning onto the bed as they indulged in the apple tarts that you brought along as well. 

“I hear that a certain someone came here with treats,” a voice called out, as the door slammed open. 

You turned around, smiling as your eyes landed on a familiar figure. Iori walked in, a smile on her face as she faced you. Squealing, you stood up before wrapping your arms around her, sighing as she hugged you back, the two of you rocking. Utahime’s business kept her out of town a lot, so it wasn’t often you would get to see her. 

“How long are you back in town! I didn’t even know you came back?!” Exclaimed, guiding her to the empty chair that Ieiri suddenly brought for her. 

“You knew I couldn’t miss the cafe opening for the world! I wanted to tell you yesterday, but I heard what happened?!” Her face took on one of concern, her hand racing out towards your hand as she turned her eyes glancing over at Megumi before looking at you once again. 

Your wide smile lessened a bit, “yeah, but everyone’s okay, I’m just glad no one seriously hurt.”

“But sending goons, to do god knows what? It’s all too much,” she said, crossing her arms. 

You shook your head, sighing, “yeah, but all we can do is move on, hopefully the cops can find out that he’s even connected to this. However, I know him, and he’s somehow gonna get out of it.”

Utahime tutted, shaking her one more time, but then, her downturned face suddenly lifted, her red lips turning into a smirk, her eyes moving onto you. Seeing her expression, your eyes furrow down in confusion. 

“...what?” you couldn't help but ask.

“...I heard a little rumor that you were shacking up with a random blond man, you wanna… go into detail about that?”

Your eyes widened, and your heart raced, pumping up, as you looked away from him, suppressing your smile, “... no… I don’t know what you talking about,” you fibbed, twirling with one of your braids, looking everywhere but at her.

She shook her head, “uuh-uh, nope, you don’t get to hide from me, little one! Who is he, what’s his name, and occupation, and where did you even meet him?”

You weren't going to say anything, but Yuuji, oh bless his heart, decided to drop in, hearing the conversation. 

“His name is Nanami, and they met at one of the cooking classes she teaches!” His smile was wide too.

Iori shrieked again, “Ugh, how could you not have told me this?!” She looked over at both Megumi, Npbara and Yuuji. 

Megumi only shrugged, “we had met him yesterday at the festival, and today as well, you know before,” he cut himself off by suddenly gesturing to himself, and his beaten-up body. 

“We did not shack up together,” you lied your ass off, “did he spend the night at my place? Yes! But that was because of everything that happened! We had only met a few days ago!” You turned around to look at her, crossing your arms as well. 

“Still, that doesn’t mean anything can’t happen, either way, tell me more about him!” She cheesed in your face, just as Ierei walked in, smelling like smoke. 

Sighed, but still, you turned towards her with a smile on your face, “he’s not from here, first of all.”

“I could tell from the fact that no one knew his name, but continue.”

The conversation delved between the two of you, talking about you and Kento, with Yuuji, Nobara, and Shoko listening intently. Utahime squealed as you told her about how quickly he acted the moment Yuuji and Megumi were in trouble as well. 

“Aah, he sounds like the perfect gentleman, and he’s rich too? If you ever get tired of the small-town life…” she nudged your side, winking at you as well. 

Despite your smile, you shook your head, “doubt it, I love it here.”

“So what, you’ll think he’ll move down here for you…?” she trailed off, leaning back slightly. 

“Remember that I’ve barely known this man for little more than a week,” you said, “he’s not gonna drop his cushy, CFO job in the city for a little town like this. For someone he just met too.”

She waved a finger in your face, “never say never! This could be it for you!”

Her words caused a slightly elated feeling within you. You couldn't help but think about it, how domestic the two of you felt. The idea of the two of you cooking together, and eating breakfast together as well. The sight of him in the clothes you gave him, how they fitted perfectly on him as well. Could it… could it really happen? 

Your head jerked slightly, looking up as you felt eyes on you, all five people in the room staring down at you. Pushing Iori’s finger out of your face, you shook your head, 

“I doubt it, anyways, I have to go, I need to start preparing for the Orchard’s opening, with the new cafe and everything."

Toji glared down at his phone, crossing through the various emails popping up on his phone. It took all of him not to curse out every one of his clients, to tell them that his son was hurt and that he couldn’t give two shits about the different color wallpaper they didn’t want in their homes. In his hands was a plastic bag, stacked with three takeout trays from one of the few restaurants around here, which also happens to be his brat’s favorite as well. He walked through the square, hoping to get there in time before she had to hear Megumi complain about being hungry.

Megumi… his only pride, and his blessing. 

His heart dropped when he got the call from the Smoker, and that the police had dropped off his son who had been beaten up profusely, as well as a random man. Luckily, he had already been driving back home from the city, in fact, he was on his way to you, because he knew Megumi was there. His heart had only felt like that two times in his life, 

When Megumi was born and when his wife died. 

True terror, and true fear. 

When he arrived, Megumi was somewhat awake, and a blonde man, with stern eyes and stress lines was waiting outside his door. This was Toji’s first time seeing someone like this, and in a town like this, it’s very hard to have never met someone before. 

“Who’re you?” Toji’s gruff voice came out, aching.

The blond stood up, holding out his hand, before introducing himself as Kento Nanami. Despite his respite, he shook the man’s hand, as this was the person who got his son to safety. Toji wondered how he got to his son, and Nanami, as quickly as he could explain before he left, that two men had suddenly come onto your property, and attacked both Megumi and Yuuji, with Megumi getting the brunt of the attack. Toji’s fear slowly dissipated when the Smoker came out and explained that Megumi was just gonna be fine, his ribs were bruised, and had no sustained injuries on his abdomen or stomach. His fear would slowly turn into angry– no– rage, as he realized that this attack on his son was no mere coincidence. It felt as if magma was boiling within his veins, 

Just a few days after your uncle’s sudden appearance? A man who knows no bounds when it comes to getting your orchard. 

The moment he was allowed into Megumi’s room, he was promptly kicked right out. 

“What are you doing here?!” Megumi had yelled at him, telling Toji that he needed to go be with you. 

Toji told him, in their usual banter, that unless things had changed, he was still his father. However, in his anger, he had failed to realize just how dangerous this attack was. Megumi had to be the one to tell him that the only person that was supposed to be in that Orchard was you. That everyone knew the Orchard would be closing for the holiday weekend. That if Yuuji and Megumi weren’t there, the only person those men could have been searching for, was you. You were their original target. 

With one more push from Megumi, he was already out of there, getting in his truck and making his way towards you. The moment he got there, he could see the few cops crawling around, talking and making their notes, along with the one crime scene unit. With an all clear from Yaga, he made his way towards your house, busting through the door, before hearing movement to his right. Entering the space, he was faced with three people, you, Megumi’s friend Yuuji, and the very same blonde man who had come to the clinic with his son. He saw how his arms were wrapped up around you, and he couldn't lie, something within him jerked, seeing how close he was to you. 

Quickly as he came in, he came over to you, pulling you out of his hold, his eyes rapidly looking over you, making sure that there were no cuts, scraps, and bruises on you. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Was the first thing he asked you

You smiled, oh your smile, one of the few things that could ease his aching, “I’m fine, I’m fine. You should be with Megumi, he’s the one who actually got hurt.” You told him

Toji shook his head, slowly letting you go, “The brat’s fine, made me leave to check on you, the smoker’s with him.”

You said nothing at that, but it didn’t matter, as his eyes fluttered over to Yuuji, who looked a little roughed up himself, but otherwise fine. Then, his eyes went over him, Nanami, the one who carried his son until police cars came and picked them up and took them to the clinic. According to Yaga, before he came inside, he was the one to fight off the intruders, saving both his son’s life and your own as well. 

Despite everything he felt, he knew he owed this man a great debt. He walked over, holding out his hand, “Listen, I never got to thank you for taking my son to the clinic,” his voice came out in a mumble, yet everyone looked like they heard him. 

Nanami glanced down at his hand, before slowly reaching out enveloping his own hand as well. Their hands were similar sizes, and the handshake was stern, a good one as well. The two of them locked eyes, narrowed as their hands continued to shake up and down. No more words were exchanged between the two of them, all being said within that singular gesture. 

Toji was the first to let go, slowly pulling his hand back before putting it back into his pocket. He then turned to look at you, seeing Yuuji and yourself turning away from each other before looking at the two of them once again. 

“So, have they figured out who did this?” Toji questioned, “when I got here, the cops were still outside looking over things.”

The reminder caused your body to slump over, a downhearted look on your face as you sat back down on the couch. Almost immediately, Nanami placed his hands on your own, Toji’s eyes glancing in between you, who was taking a deep breath, and him, who kept his eyes solely on you. 

“Not yet,” you started, “but I doubt that they’ll find anything now.”

Yet, your eyes glanced over at Toji with a glowering emotion, and he knew exactly what that meant. The two of you both knew who exactly would be the type of person to send goons to your home. He remembers how he strolled up to the back, seeing the slimy smile on your uncle’s face as he spoke to you, and how seconds away Megumi was from attacking but he was surrounded by his people as well. That wasn’t a problem for Toji, as he forced the men to leave the property. Deep down, he knew that the problem was not over, it never truly was. The moment your grandmother died, and left everything to you, it would be an endless battle until either one of you died. 

The sound of the door opening took his attention, turning around only seeing the familiar tall form of Sheriff Yaga walking into the home. He spotted the four of you, making his way over as incoherent noises came from the radio he wore on his person at all times. Toji felt movement, looking to his left, only to see you getting up, and making your way towards Yaga. 

Immediately, he began speaking, “Some of the men took the perpetrators down to the station, but they’re not talking without a lawyer. We’re gonna go ahead and charge them with trespassing, assault and battery and wait for their lawyer to arrive.”

A lawyer? Huh, seems like your uncle has this all planned out. Toji stood in and listened as Yaga laid out the situation to you and in turn everyone else including you. He mentioned the security tapes you had around here, and you confirmed that you’ll drop them off first thing tomorrow as well. He also brought up increased patrols, and that further relieved something within Toji, but still… the fear of your uncle doing something to you hung over you. However, he knew he needed to go back to the clinic soon. 

Yaga soon left, and you went back to the couch, tired and dejected from it all, flopping onto the couch, “This is…”

However, a sound cut through the air, Toji feeling something move within his pockets. Quickly, he fished it out to silence it, only for his eyes to slightly widen at the notification. 

The Smoker: “Megumi fell asleep, probably from exhaustion. Everything looks good, I may be able to take him either tomorrow or the next day.”

He smirked down at his phone, quickly texting her back that he’d be coming back soon. He could feel three pairs of eyes on him as he put his phone back in his pocket. 

“Smoker says that Megumi fell asleep, and that everything still looks good with him.”

Suddenly, Yuuji stood up, exclaiming, “I need to go be with him!”

Toji held up his hand, seeing how he was about to jump out of his skin to run and go and see Megumi, “Hold it Pinky, lemme take you, Megumi will kill me if I let you go by yourself. Need to head back there anyways, talk about treatment plans and whatnot.”

However, the last thing that any of them have is to leave you alone. That would be his last mistake, and yet, Maki and everyone else were still in the city on their little getaway, and he already knew the smoker was preoccupied. His eyes fluttered right back to Nanami, whose eyes narrowed at the sight of Toji looking at him. Toji then looked back at you, pointing his thumb at Nanami.

“You trust him,” he asked you. 

You peeked up at his confusion, and he could see confusion twist your face for a moment. For a moment, you glanced between Nanami and Toji, before slowly nodding your head. A sight left his mouth, ignoring his fleeting hope that you would say something completely different. 

Turning towards Nanami, his eyes still narrowed, “Stay with her tonight, Blondie? Don’t want her to be alone until we learn all the details. All we know, they could send more goons.”

“Wait, Kento you don’t need to stay–” your words were cut off by the blond man sitting right beside you, whose hand stuck out and kept you seated. 

“Never planned to leave in the first place,” is all he said to Toji.

Toji then nodded, ignoring the look in your eyes as you turned towards Nanami. Toji then looked over at Yuuji, with one jerk of his head towards the door, the young boy immediately got up, holding back his jitters. Before leaving, Yuuji gave you a long hug, telling you to be careful, as well as telling you that he would be back tomorrow, before making his way to the door. By now, Toji had already approached the door, hearing the boy following behind him. He unlocked the truck, letting the boy in, before making his way down the road back towards town. The car ride was silent, but he didn’t know if he should thank God or spit on his face. All he could think about was his hand on yours, how you found yourself at ease within his hold. This… man he’s never met before, someone who you never even bothered to tell him about. You used to tell him everything. 

Do you even deserve that right, a nasty voice within him, a voice he hadn’t heard since the day he was kicked out of his family, it’s obvious that she’s moving on…

The Zenin family, the only ones to rival the Gojo’s… another story, for another day. 

Now he was here, walking through the square, holding food for his son, his boyfriend, and himself. Suddenly, his phone rings, and glancing down at it, he smirks, before picking it up.

“Tell me you got something good for me, Shiu,” he spoke through the receiver, taking a quick right as he stepped out of some little kid's way as they ran, an exhausted mother soon following after them. 

“Well, I definitely got something, from what I could find, her uncle is trying to make business with the Gojos.”

Toji’s eyebrows perked up at that, “The Gojos? That’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. What would they want in this backwater ass town?”

Shiu chuckled, “ ‘pparently, head of the company wants to break into, and get this, the mining industry, and that mountain in your little “backwater ass town” has a bunch of coal and other important stones. However, the orchard is stopping her uncle from being able to sell the idea to them.”

Greed is the motivation most people would use to try and do heinous things to others. Trust him, he knows just how far people will go to get a huge chunk of money. Remembering his life when growing up, the tactics his family would use… in all honesty, your uncle and the Gojos were a little tame in their efforts.

“Everything around the orchard is public property, so it’ll be easy for the Gojo’s to buy up everything else… but the orchard is the main problem. He wants to build some kind of quarry on top of it as well. Honestly… it’s not too bad of a plan, and it makes a lot of people a lot of money.”

Except for you, Toji thought. He knew just how much you put into this, how you went to college, specifically to learn more to be able to run the orchard, a stipulation from your grandmother. Your drive was what pulled him towards you after all. 

As he walked straight, movement caught his eye. Thinking that it was just something random, a person going inside a restaurant, when his eyes fluttered to his left, and Toji froze mid-step. Everything within him froze, at first, his eyes could not believe anything that he was seeing. The frost of the air had no match for the way his blood boiled, angry heat erupting within him as he almost squeezed the phone in his hands. 

“Fushiguro— hey, are you there?! I got some more for you,” Shiu spoke out, but he was barely paying attention, watching the sight before him, that was happening across the street at a restaurant. 

Toji grunted and said that he was still listening, “yeah, apparently the Gojos are sending someone down to continue talking about the plans. I don’t know who, but watch out for him.”

His eyes widened as a handshake, between two people he knew, but he thought didn't know each other. 

Nanami, the man who carried his son, the one who comforted you, while wearing a fitting, sleeked, and ironed business suit, shaking hands with the man who has caused absolutely nothing but detriment to your life. Before he ended the call, hastily he told Shiu to look into a man named Kento Nanami before shutting off the call. Toji flipped towards his camera app, before taking just enough pictures to give right to you. To give you so you could believe him when he tells you the man you were shacking up with had berated you for the moment you two met. 

Kento walked amid the restaurant, walking behind a man. He was a thin man, and little shorter than Kento, and wearing a suit that was obviously bigger than him. In his hands, Kento could see, was a manilla folder, as well as two rolled-up papers, kept together with rubber bands. Kenot followed behind both him and the waitress, who took them to a booth in the back, gesturing for the two of them to sit and they did so. 

The waitress took their orders, and while Kento simply ordered water, the man ordered a sweet tea, as well as his own appetizer without looking at the menu. Once the waitress left to fulfill their orders, Kento pulled at the menu, flipping it open just to see what they had to eat. 

The man, seeing Kento flip through, quickly placed his bony finger within Kento's space pointing towards a certain thing on the menu, “their double-loaded burgers and fries, I especially think you should try, Mr. Nanami.”

Kento simply hummed, waiting a moment for the man to pull his hand away, so he continued looking at the menu. It was all quiet, until the waitress came back, giving Kento his water and the man his sweet tea as well as his appetizers before asking for main dish orders. Raden, Kento expected for him to order the double-loaded burgers, while Kento ordered a shrimp carbonara pasta. If Harris felt a way for Kento not ordering the same thing as him, he didn’t say it. The waitress wrote it all down before smiling and leaving.

“Alright, we should probably get into business while we wait for our food,” Harris began, pulling out the papers and unrolling the cylinder of paper. 

Kento watched as Harris unveiled two blueprints to him, looking similar yet very different. 

“Mr… Harris, what exactly am I looking at here?”

The man in front of him smirked, “this is the plan to allow for a new mine to be built right here, see within these mountains,” he brought a pen, pointing towards the area where the mountains were, “is a plethora of untouched coal and even other rocks as well. Untapped potential.”

Kenot could not lie to himself, his mind beginning to make the calculations, as he remembered all of Satoru’s sentiments in their previous meetings. There were many times he had mentioned the mining industry, one of the few things the Gojo’s don’t have any stake or claim within. A conglomerate as big as that one, and having an interest in an industry was something he would be interested in. He can see why Satoru decided this would be worth his time if he never knew what was going on. 

“Not only that, but we’ll also build a quarry, not too far from the mountains as well, and it’ll bring out even more investment as well.”

He suddenly pointed out an area on the prospective blueprints, circled where it said: “QUARRY.” Kento slowly nodded his head, before glancing between that and blueprints of the town, to see just how much things would change. 

Kento tilted his head, blinking as he continued to glance between the two blueprints. Aligning up, he could not see your orchard on it all, at least on the prospective blueprints. Leaning over, turning the papers to align with each other, he could feel his heart skip a beat in budding fear. 

Your orchard was nowhere to be seen, and right above where it was supposed to be were those words “QUARRY” written in big letters. 

He looked up at Mr. Harris, “I feel like I should point out the obvious obstacle here,” he pointed to your orchard on the blueprint, “the orchard here.”

His heart further dropped when Mr. Harris didn’t react, in fact, his smirk only widened.

“Don’t worry about that, it’s a work in progress. See, I grew up on that Orchard, just have to deal with a stubborn family member and it will be all ours for us to do as we please.”

His eyes were wide, but still, he tried his best not to show a reaction, yet all he could think about was everything, that day you rushed out when the two of you first met, those people who caused a major disturbance at your booth during the Vibirum festival, when those goons rolled and attacked Megumi as well. He had a feeling that this man in front of him was the reason that it was all happening. Did… he wished to scare you off the property…?

“Well, that’s definitely a lot,” Kento started, yet was interrupted by the waitress bringing their food over to them.

The conversation stifled for a bit as the two of them began to eat, Kento ignoring the way the cheese from his burger dripped on his chin. 

Wait a minute, Kento thought, did he say that he grew up on the Orchard. He remembered you saying that you were the only child of your parents… but this man was obviously older than you, too old to be an older sibling of yours. Yet when he looked back at Mr. Harris, in his eyes, Kento was suddenly blown away by the sudden familiarity of them. The eyes, the exact same eyes. You and him had the exact same eyes, yet yours was filled with shining light and his were filled… with malice. 

This man was definitely a relative of yours, but he wasn’t a brother… however, it never occurred to him that your mother could have had siblings as well.

Kento fully-eyed him, Harris was definitely old enough to be your uncle. At that notion, he almost choked on his pasta, quickly swallowing it by picking up his glass of water and taking a few steps. The two of them each ate half of their food, before asking the waitress for trays and bags before focusing right on the matter at hand. 

“Well, Mr. Nanami,” Mr Harris started, “what do you think? I’ve had this plan in motion for just a little over five years as well.”

Just a little over five years? Around the time your grandmother passed away? 

“When you said you grew up in the orchard…?” He couldn't help but ask, he needed all the information he could get before he acted. 

At this, his smirk turned more melancholy, looking down, “the orchard was founded by my mother and father, but it was really her running everything, my father would only listen. It was me, my younger sister and my older sister as well, may god rest her soul.”

“May God rest her soul.” was all the confirmation Kento needed about who he was. Said older sister, the one who by his words passed away, was obviously your mother. 

“When I left, my grandmother had the grand idea to leave it with my niece, who still owns it. But don’t you worry, once I tell her how much money she’ll make in this, she’ll sign everything over to me.”

Kento hummed, slowly nodding his head, acting as if he was moved by Harris’ words. Soon, the waitress came back, giving them their proper trays and bags. Harris stood up, saying that he had to go and that he hoped to hear good things from Kento before taking his leave. 

The moment that he was out of sight, Kento let out a large groan in anger and frustration, his hands pressing up against his face. It took everything within him not to attack the man sitting right in front of him. The more he talked, the more Kento realized that Harris had been trying nonstop to take your Orchard from you. An impasse, Kento was at an impasse, because he knew, he knew that he couldn't take this deal. His heart tugged with him, telling him that this would destroy you, and everything you’ve worked for, and the last thing he wanted to do, was be the person who caused that. In so little time, you’ve made an imprint, a brand on his heart. However, his brain knew that this was exactly the kind of deal Satoru wanted to make. Despite his friendship with the man, he was still his boss, and his family is what created the huge company where he worked. What he said, goes. 

Unless…

Kento got up, grabbing his bagged food, before leaving over two hundred dollars on the table to cover his portion of the bill as well as his tip. Fishing out his phone, he soon began to make a few calls, a rush of wind behind him as he exited out of the restaurant. 

Standing, watching as the huge mixer plowed through the dough you were making for the apple donuts, a new batch for when the orchard opened up for the week. You wore your usual apron over your outfit, an old, fading white shirt, and ripped baggy gray-washed jeans. Gloves on your hands as you began to mix pomegranate juice in the batch of buttercream glaze that was sitting in your mixing bowl. As you mixed the red juice, seeing the glaze turn a slow purplish-reddish color, you smiled.

You wondered if Kento would enjoy these, as much as he enjoys the donuts. As you mix, you couldn't help but think of this morning, and how close the two of you were at that time. It was like the two of you were in your own little bubble, away from the world. Eating breakfast, answering hypothetical questions, everything. You let out a shaky breath as you remembered when he opened the door, revealing his body still drenched in water from his shower. You couldn't pull your eyes from the way the beads of water would drip down his body, dragging against the hairs that grew from… everywhere… 

Shaking your head, you pulled yourself out of your budding fantasy, putting your focus right back onto the glaze in front of you. However, just as you are about to let go of the spatula, a loud BANG catches your attention. 

A loud gasp leaves your mind, your body turning around as your heart begins to race. Was this it? Did your uncle send more men to attack you again? Reaching for your phone, your fingers immediately itching, thinking about the blonde man who told you to call him, when a shouting voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Where are you?!” Toji, calling out your name, his voice booming and echoing throughout the house.

Befuddled, you stopped the dough mixer from mixing the bread, before taking your apron and leaving the kitchen. Entering the welcome area, just as Toji walked in, sweating and breathing heavily. 

“Come here, I have something to show you,” he grabbed you by the arm, ignoring your sudden shriek as he pulled you to the couch not far from you. 

“Toji? What is going on with you? Is it Megumi?” you asked him, watching as he pulled his phone out before scrolling through it. 

“No it’s not, but here!” That's all he said as he shoved his phone in your hand. 

Once again, confusion was on your face as you glanced over at him. Toji only gave you a hard stare, causing you to shake your head before looking at the phone in your hand.

Blink… blink…blink… 

Your free hand reached up to wipe your eyes, but you could feel a crack within your heart the more and more you looked at it. 

“Toji… what am I looking at right now?” your voice was trembling, but you knew exactly what you were looking at. 

“I think you know what it is, Princess.”

Princess… he hadn’t used that nickname for you in a long time, since you broke up. In the picture, you could see Kento, the very same Kento who was just in your home, who held you while you cried, carried you to your room, and everything. He was not wearing the clothes you had sent him in, but rather a black, freshly pressed suit, and his hand was outstretched, shaking with the bane of your existence, your uncle, Raden Harris. Kento had a neutral look on his face, while your uncle had a much wider smile as they shook hands. You scroll through the pictures seeing what happened in sequence, then shaking hands before entering Donna’s, one of the few restaurants in the Square.

“How… How did you even see these?” You couldn't help but ask him, shocking the phone back into his hands, standing up, and walking over one of the bookshelf walls.

As you stood there, trying your best to compose yourself, Toji spoke, “I saw them myself, was on the phone with someone who was figuring out why your uncle was even here. Ironic that I would see this at that time.”

Swiftly, you turned around, facing him, ignoring the tears that welled in your eyes, “you found out why my uncle is here?”

Toji nodded his head, “Gojo Corporation, they’re this big conglomerate that runs a lot of stuff. Heard of them, right?”

You nodded your head, allowing him to continue to speak, “Shiu, my contact, told me they’ve been trying to break into the mining industry. Your uncle heard about that, and thought about the mountains not too far from here. He wants to build a mine right here in Aquarine, and use your Orchard space to make a Quarry.”

Your eyes narrowed, “a quarry? What the hell is that?” your anger allowed the curse to easily slip through your words

Toji shrugged his shoulders, “don’t know, but needs this place gone for it to happen. So the Gojo’s were supposed to be sending someone to continue on with the plans, and on my way over here, I got more information on this Nanami guy.”

He opened his phone, this time opening his messages before shoving the device in your hands, allowing you to read the messages. 

“Kento Nanami, 27, Chief Financial Officer to the Gojo Corporation.” you mumbled, only feeling yourself going more and more numb as you glanced over the information Toji’s contact gave him.

A CFO… something that he told you that he was… to the company that would benefit from the destruction of your orchard.

“Wait, wait, that doesn’t make sense, why would he take a class?? Why would he take my invitation to come here? He…he,” you began to stutter, “he fought off those men who were attacking Megumi! Come on, there’s gotta be an explanation–”

“There is no explanation!” Toji yelled, snatching the phone out of your hand, “he’s playing you! You’ve been played! Your uncle told him all about you and they made a plan to make you sell your orchard to them!”

“But he told me that he was meeting someone, why would he let me know what he’s doing if he wanted to take it from me–”

“Princess, I know how these rich people work, they think of themselves as God, he probably thought you were too stupid to even make the connection.” He told you, but his voice slowly became muffled, as if you dunked your head underwater as you went and sat down.

Your body began to shake, as you could no longer hold back your tears. Toji, seeing your state, came over to you, wrapping his arm around you before pulling you close. Almost immediately, you snuggled yourself into him as well.

“I know it hurts, but it’s the truth, and I’ll be damned before I let this person take everything you, and your family have worked hard for.”

You sniffed, saying nothing but you nodded your head, wrapping yourself within his chest and abdomen. His familiar scent, smelling of sweat, and intense cologne, comforted you, the nostalgia of when he used to hold you after long days of work. 

Then, your phone rang, the melodious tones rang out, and your heart dropped at the sound. When you saved Kento’s number, you gave him his own ringtone, so you’d know it was him calling every time. That was the ringtone you two were hearing. Moving back, you pulled your phone out of your pockets, heartbreaking even further at the confirmation of Kento ♡ appearing on your phone screen. Toji glanced down, before seeing the name, his eyes filling with rage. Before you could decide on whether you wanted to answer it, Toji suddenly grabbed your phone, standing up to his feet before answering it. 

“Toji!” you screamed, but it was too late. 

Toji was loud, honestly, you’d never seen him yell like that. Not when Megumi made a mistake, because he rarely did, he didn’t even yell at him when he found out he was beating up bullies while at school. His words are full of venom as he tells Kento to stay away from you and from the Orchard as well. That if you even hear that he was close to you, that he’ll rip him limb from limb. He pulled the phone away from him, before ending the call, not bothering to let Kento get one word in. Toji typed away at your phone for a few more seconds, before tossing your phone back to you, reaching out and catching it.

“If he contacts you again, don’t let him near you, let me take care of this, okay?”

You opened your mouth but could find nothing to say. You could only watch as Toji walked out, his stomps heavy and ireful. He slammed the door behind him and stomped away. So now, it was just you again, your body lying across the couch as your mind began to catch up to everything that just happened. All you could do was lie there, ignoring the streaks of tears that rolled down your eyes. Was everything Kento– Nanami, told you a lie? 

A flash in your mind, his warm smile on that day as you sat in your private area with your koi and goldfish pond… were you too trusting of a man you and only met so recently? In the time you had dated Toji, he had never made you feel the way you felt for Kento. In so little time too… 

Were you too longing for love? For someone to understand you… that you would trust someone you hadn’t known for a week… to give every part of yourself to him, like you did on that fateful night?

For a moment you laid there, your mind running on every kind of emotion. Laying there aimlessly, until a slow realization that you still needed to finish preparations for tomorrow, and slowly, you pushed yourself up before wobbling abc into your kitchen. You had no time to cry anymore, you had business to finish. 

Before you knew it, it was night, and you had long finished your preparations for opening tomorrow. The lights shut off, and with heavy clouds looming over your head, you made your way towards the stairs, to your private apartment. When you hear heavy pounds on your door, your head swiftly turns around as you stare at the closed door. Slowly, you made your way over to the door. The knocks never stopped, but climbing over the couch in the welcome area, your fingers fluttering with the thin curtains, moving the thin curtains back only seeing familiar blonde hair, his heavy and large hand still pounding away at the door. 

“Please, talk to me,” you could now hear his voice through the door.

A gasp left your mouth, your hands letting go of the curtain, turning around. Your heart pounded in your chest, nervous breaths leaving your lips. The sudden movement must have caught his attention, cause the pounding stopped, and for a moment it was all silent. Then, the sound of footsteps caught your attention. You glanced behind you only to see Kento’s huge figure standing not too far from the window. You knew that he knew that you were there, yet you said nothing, just sitting there, waiting for him to say something. 

“I’m… I’m sorry, can we talk, please?”

Your hand reached clenching at the fabric, feeling how your heart clenched. You wanted to, your heart wanted to, oh you so wanted to. To face the man you’ve fallen for to tell you to your face that everything you’ve heard wasn’t true. However, Toji’s words echoed in your head, the vexation and anger on his face, and it all stopped you. Frozen, your body couldn't move, even though your heart broke further underneath those pleas that left Kento’s mouth. 

A single knock against the glass of the window, then, you heard a sigh, and the last thing he said was, “I’m gonna make it right, don’t worry, please.”

You saw his figure slowly fading away, your eyes watching him through the curtain closed until you could no longer see any remnants of him.

Four long days.

That was the last time you heard from Kento. Each day that would go by, your heart would crumble, and each day, more and more, you began to believe Toji’s words. Of how he was playing you. As you stood outside, wearing Toji’s old jacket and pair of sweatpants. you carried a basket of apples towards the wagon you had parked in the back of the house. 

Today was the grand opening for your cafe, opening in two hours, and the entire town was talking about it as well. It was the last thing in your grandmother’s letter that she wanted you to do for the Orchard. 

Inside, Megumi sat on the stool you made him sit on, scrolling away at his phone. The moment he was discharged, he also came straight here, if not for his father. However, that second day Toji dropped him off with you, saying that he wants to help as much as he can. At most, you made him carry a pan of pastries, but even if that, you made him sit down and watch, not wanting his wounds to be more irritated than they already were. Yuta, Nobara, and Inumaki were in the kitchen, preparing the last of the pastries as well. 

Yuuji and Maki took the apples to the kitchen, while you stood outside, hands tucked away in your pockets. Taking a deep breath, inhaling the cool, crisp, December air. The feeling of the frosty wind nipping at your ears, bending your head back, letting out a loud sigh as you cracked your neck. Despite the heavy cloud weighing on top of you, you knew that it was no day for that, today was a happy day for you. You wanted to celebrate today, everything you’ve worked for, and this cafe was the culmination of your hard work as well. Then, you heard low humming, as well as the sounds of tires pressing up against the dirt. At first, you thought you were hearing things, but the sounds continued, before suddenly getting louder, and closer with each second. Confused, you made your way towards the front of the house, glancing around as you saw a black SUV suddenly roll up to the front. The car, most likely an expensive brand that you’ve never seen before, parked not too far from you, only leaving a few feet between you and the right headlight. Taking a step back, watching as the car turned off, the windows fully tinted not allowing you to see who exactly was inside. It couldn't have been anyone in town, the orchard wasn’t open at all, considering that apple season was over and the cafe wasn’t open for another three hours. 

The doors opened, and your eyes widened at the four people who exited out of the big SUV. Coming from the right backseat, your eyes landed on blond hair, as well as a blue dress shirt, and as well beige pants as well. You took a step back at the sight of Kento, seeing him taking your mind for a loop, but that wasn’t the last thing that furthered the discord within you. Coming around the truck, it only sent you to despair to see your uncle standing there, his sleazy smirk on his face as he held papers in his hand, within a manilla folder. Was this how he was gonna fix it? By bringing the bane of your existence here to your home? However, your eyes looked over, and your eyes could not help but narrow at the two new unknown men standing right before you. They, much like Kento, wore their own expensive suits, although they matched with each other. One man had pure white hair, with his eyes hidden behind sunglasses as well. The other man had long black hair, with a bit of it packed up in a bun in the back of his head, a kinder smile on his face. All four of them approached you, standing in front of the car. 

“The Orchard is closed right now–” you tried to speak, the fakest smile on your face, as you hoped to get them away from you and your home. 

“I heard you have a cafe here?!” The white-haired man suddenly cut into your words, as if he didn’t even hear you. 

Behind the man, the black-haired man and Kento groaned, placing their hands over their heads. 

Blinking, you tilted your head, “well, yes I do, but it’s not open right now, you’ll have to come back later.”

The white-haired man in front suddenly pouted, head and body bowing down, “please, I’ll literally buy one of everything!”

The black-haired stranger beside Kento suddenly stepped up, reaching for his white-haired friend, and lifting him up.

“There’s better ways to do this than beg, Satoru,” he stated, before turning towards you. 

He smiled, “sorry about him, he’s… a lot to handle.”

You gave him a small smile, “That’s okay… but would he really buy one of everything?” you couldn't help but ask him.

The men glanced between the white-haired man– Satoru, and yourself, before nodding his head, letting out a sigh, “yeah, he would, he lets his sweet tooth lead him a lot of the times.”

The man introduced himself as Suguru Geto, before restating the claim the man in his arms stated that they wished to see your bakery as well. You glanced over at Kento, looking at him fully for the first time, and his words echoed into his head. He looked back at you, a tentative smile on his face. 

“I’m gonna make it right, don’t worry, please.”

One chance. That was all you were gonna give him. 

Facing the two men, you nodded, before telling them to follow you. However, before any of them could move, your uncle, who you forgot was even there, suddenly interjected. 

“Excuse me, I thought we were coming here to convince her to sign the pap–” However, your uncle immediately shut up the moment that… Satoru…? turned towards him, glaring down at him. 

At that, your uncle shut up, and you couldn’t suppress the smile and giggle that left your mouth, covering your head with the old fabric of your jacket. With that, they all followed you, walking inside the main home. Inside, you could see Megumi sitting at his stool towards your right, watching his head lift up. You could tell he was confused at first, but seeing Kento walk in made his eyes widen in alarm. Almost immediately he got up, but you signaled for him to sit down. He gave you a confused look, his eyes asking you “What were you doing?” but you just gestured at him to relax, before continuing to lead your party towards the cafe entrance within the house. You led them down a hall, before approaching the side, where a wide, open doorway, took up the space of two, maybe three doors, along with a sign at the top that said “Honeyed Orchard’s Cafe” 

You walked into the space, walking past the tables and benches you had around this secondary entrance, before entering the main area of the cafe. The walls were painted an off-white, and there were hanging plants above you. The hanging lights had glass coverings, blown out to look like flowers, hanging above the small bar stools as well as the main bakery table. To your left, there were a couple of bar stools, underneath an attached table, allowing those who would be sitting to look outside the window, the town where the grove of trees was. Said window had sage green groovings as well, and the main door that led to the outside was also sage green. Walking in further, allowing all the men to see the glass casing, showing off all the pastries you and your grandmother created, pulling from her old cookbook. 

A long whistle came out of Geto’s mouth, “this is really nice,” he complimented, taking a look around. 

Seeing all the desserts in front of him, Satoru gasped, making his way towards the front, where Toge and Yuta, who were talking amongst themselves, suddenly stopped their conversation, seeing you and these four men behind you. He began speaking radically, as he basically ordered one of everything, pointing at all of it. At that, your two employees glanced over at you, seeing how you nodded, before getting to work. 

You turned towards Geto, “thank you, my grandmother, most of everything was her idea, I just brought it to life for her.”

At the corner of your eye, you could see your uncle flinch at the sudden mention of your grandmother, his mother. You weren’t the only one who noticed that, seeing Geto and Kento take a glance at each other. All of you looked over at Satoru who was handing over a huge wad of cash, both you, Toge, and Yuta’s eyes widening at the sudden look of it, before he took the boxes and walked over to one of the booths within the bakery-cafe. Geto smiled looking at him, before nodding at you and soon joining him, taking a seat right in front of him. Satoru opened the first vox on top, pulling out one of the many pastries before taking a bite. As you watched him preen over the sweets, footsteps got closer to you, the familiar smell of cologne standing right next to you. Your head turned, heart beating at the sight of Kento right beside you. His eyes looked tired, but still, he smiled down at you, hands in his pockets. This time, you could no longer hold back your smile, before jerking your head towards the couple sitting at your booth table.

“Is this your way of “making it right?”” you asked him.

But before he could answer, you could hear angry huffing coming closer, You turned around only to see your uncle coming up two steps behind you, anger rushing over his face. However, before he could say anything, Kento stepped in between the two of you, his tired eyes suddenly turning into a chilled anger, much like an angry snowstorm. 

“Any words you want to say to her can be redirected at me,” he said, your eyes widened at the gruff in his voice.

“If you have nothing to say, go sit down, we’ll deal with you soon.”

Your uncle’s face was astounded at the way Kento came to your defense, glancing between the two of you. He then narrowed his eyes, before pointing his long, bony, finger in Kento’s face.

“We had a deal, Nanami, don’t forget that,” was all he said, before going to walk away, sitting at the bar stools near the main entrance. 

You and Kento looked at each other right after, smiling at each other once more. 

“You know, you still didn’t answer my question,” you asked him, as the two of you began to walk over to the front. 

“Is this your way of fixing things?” you repeated the question one more time.

He only gave you a smile, “just trust me.”

Your lips fell open just a little, before letting out a chuckle before turning towards Yuta, “give me two apple donuts, Yuta.”

The tired-eyed teen nodded his head, before fishing out two donuts with the tongs, wrapping them up, and handing them to you. Smiling, you gave Kento one, his eyes glancing down in surprise. His smile then reappeared, before taking the donut out of your hands, pulling the familiar red and white checked parchment away, before taking one huge bite. You eat yours along with him, the two of you smiling. Although you couldn't see him, you knew that your uncle was staring at the two of you, and you couldn’t help the elation that arose within you at that moment, at his heart racing about the fact that the two of you knew each other… and the fact that his plans are in jeopardy as well. Especially on the way, Kento jumped in to defend you from him. 

Once finished with your treat, you glanced over at your new guests, watching as Satoru shared one of his pastries with Geto. Crumbling your parchment paper, you approached the two of them, wiping any crumbs off of your face as well. 

“Are you two enjoying your treats?” you asked them, ending down slightly to be face-to-face with them. 

Satoru swiftly turned his head towards you, his eyes glowing as if a kid on a high sugar rush, with a huge smile on his face, “you’re a goddess!” he suddenly exclaimed, before turning his head a bit to the side.

“You were right about this place, you won!” He suddenly exclaimed, turning around only to realize he was looking at Kento. 

“Won…?” you questioned, glancing between the two of them, “won at what?” 

But your words were drowned out by your uncle, who blew up, standing up from his seat before marching right over to the four of you. 

“This is ridiculous, I thought we were here to make her sign the papers to realize the proterpies over to me! Gojo, you told me that this was why you came here!”

Your eyes widened in shock at the name he used, as he stared at the white-haired man who slowly dropped his pastry back into its box, before turning his head glaring at him. 

“I’m sorry,” your eyes widened as his voice dropped at least three octaves, “were you speaking to me?”

The sudden chill that fell over the room the moment he spoke, only intensified the moment he stood up, facing your uncle. 

“She’s not signing those papers, and if I hear about you trying this with other people, trust me, you’ll wish you’ve never even met me.”

However, despite this, your uncle didn’t back down, despite his body shaking with fear, “this deal is one of kind, and can make a lot of people a lot money–”

He was suddenly cut off by Geto standing, unaffected by the radiation of anger that Sato– Gojo was giving off. 

“You heard him, this deal is off, and if he hears you trying to sell this off to someone else, we’ll personally deal with you.” The anger in the air intensified the moment Geto narrowed his eyes at your uncle.

Kento stood up fully, before joining the two of them, your eyes glancing between the two of them. The three of them stood together, radiating an energy you’ve never felt before, it terrified you, and you weren’t even the one they were angry at you. As you stood there, slowly relaxing that these two random men Kento brought to your home and business, weren’t random men after all, but instead held all the power behind the very company your uncle was conspiring with to steal everything you and your family had worked for. 

“Get out of here!” that came from Gojo, your head turning as your uncle jumped, dropping all the papers in his hands, before scurrying out of the bakery. 

It was all silent the moment he left, and after a few seconds, everything fully clicked for you. Your legs trembled and shook under the realization of the fact that it was over. Your uncle’s terrorization of you, your employees, your orchard, of your family’s legacy. It was over. You could feel yourself beginning to fall, your arms flailing about for some stabilization, when hands suddenly wrapped themselves around your waist, holding you right up. The smell of citrus and sage makes you look up, seeing Kento with a soft smile on his face.

“Told you to just trust me.”

The two of you locked eyes, and before you knew it, in a rush of energy, you pushed yourself up, wrapping your arms around him. They locked behind his neck, and you could hear Kento give off a sound of surprise, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist. Your body began to shake, as tears, happy tears, began to stream down your face. 

“Thank you… thank you so much!” you cried in his ears, your tears beginning to stain his shirt. 

With a longing hum, Kento pressed his own cheek into your shoulder, “you’re welcome, love.”

With over six new boxes of pastries, Suguru held them in his hands, carrying them towards the car, while Satoru and Kento walked behind him. In both of their hands were two cases of apple cider, twelve in each case as well. 

“You’ve really fallen for her, ehh Kento, you’d even put your job on the line for her,” Kento’s eyes glared at Satoru’s teasing words, Satoru not caring as he nudged Kento with his elbow. 

Despite his glare, Kento’s heart softened at Satoru’s mention of you. These past four days, allowed him to realize just how, and in just a little time he ached to see you. Putting things in motion was harder than he thought, but for you, he had little to no problem with how he did so. Glancing back at the house, where you were surrounded by every one of your employees, laughing and smiling with them as well. Kento didn’t even notice the smile on his face until Satoru pointed it out.

“I’ve never seen you smile like that,” Kento heard, turning his head around to look at his friend. 

“Like what?” He couldn't help but ask him. 

“...like I smile at Suguru,” he revealed.

The two of them glanced over at the black-haired man, who had just slammed the door to their rental, before walking around to the driver seat. Suguru turned towards the two of them, before beckoning Satoru, calling him over. Satoru, looking over at Kento one last time before saying,

“Don’t let her go, don’t let your father’s words pull you from the only one that made you smile like that.”

With that, he walked away, facing his husband before giving Kento one last wave before hopping into the passenger seat. Suguru waved over at Kento as well, before getting into the SUV. As he watched the huge black car leave, he could hear quiet footsteps approaching him, glancing back and seeing you standing not too far from him. He turned around, and the two of you just looked at each other, the wind blowing in between the two of you. 

“We…” you started, “we should talk, huh?”

He blinked, before nodding his head slowly. With that, you turned around and began walking back towards the house. He said nothing, only following you, noting how the porch was empty of all your employees who were with you. He skipped in front of you, opening the door, you utter a small thank you towards him before walking inside the main house. Leading him towards the back, in the kitchen, where all the chatter that echoed through the room suddenly ceased, Kento looked up and saw six pairs of eyes all suddenly in him, all glowering, and all angry with him.

Suddenly, he swayed black spiky hair marching right up to him, his green eyes fueled with fire. However, before Megumi could say anything, you stepped in between the two of them, holding your arms out. 

“It’s okay,” you cooed, smiling at Megumi, “me and Kento have to talk, don’t worry.”

“But he–” but you shook your head, causing him to cease his words. 

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, “the six of you go back to work please, we suddenly lost almost half of our inventory for each and every pastry and we have a big crowd coming today. I’ll be down soon.”

Looking over at them, watching as their apprehensive eyes slowly move away from the two of you, focusing on making more of everything that you suddenly lost. You were right, with Satoru buying half of the inventory you planned on for the grand opening of your bakery-cafe, and with less than three hours until the cafe opening, they need all hands on deck. Looking over Megumi, jerking your head towards them. With no other words exchanged, Megumi glances at you, and finally at him, before groaning, leaving and joining them once again. With no more obstacles, the two of you made it towards your private stairs, watching as you unlocked it, before following you to the top, to your private apartment. The lights were off, only the low glow of the cloudy sky was the only thing that allowed him to see two feet in front of him. Suddenly, a hand, soft as flowers, reached out and grabbed his much rougher ones. Kento looked up, only seeing your back as you left him on the couch, where you guided him to sit.

He watched as you walked in front of him, before taking a seat a cushion away from him, your body fully facing him. With everything, Kento never got a chance to fully look at you. Despite your clothes being covered in dirt from picking the last of the apples off the trees, you’ve never looked more beautiful to him. 

“I… want to hear everything, from the moment you arrived here, to now, everything. If you don’t mind, please.”

Kento nodded his head, sighing as he faced you, and he could feel his knees grazing with your own, “I was doing business in the city, when I got a call from Satoru, who you just met today,” you nodded at that.

“He asked me to see about this possible business deal here, and at first I was gonna decline, but he called this as a favor that I owed, so I went. He told me that he didn’t know what it was about, but that he had a feeling, so he told me to check it out, since I was already close, I came.”

“All I knew at that time was your uncle’s name, and his number. I had no idea what he was doing, or what he was planning, and I never did until the day of our meeting. When I arrived, the meeting was set for two days after I arrived, and the day after I arrived was when I first took your class.”

Suddenly, Kento reached out, having no idea why, but he wanted to hold them again, longing for the soft touch once more. 

“Since that day, I’ve never felt anything like the way I felt that day, then I did with you.” He confessed to you.

Your eyes widened, but he felt your hands clenching around his hands as he spoke, listening to every word he said. 

“I… don’t know, but since that day, I’ve wanted to know more of you, more about you. Those days we would spend time together were the best days of my life.”

Your eyes shined as you stared into Kento’s, your heart racing, his words like Cupid’s arrows, sending them straight into your heart. His eyes looked down for a moment, before looking up at you, his eyes shining, welling with tears. 

“But then I hurt you, accidentally or not, I should have asked more questions, or even made a guess that my reason for being here was a lot closer to you than I imagined,” he said, shaking his head as he looked away

You gasped, shuffling closer to him, shaking your head, “no, I should have said something, I knew my uncle was behind the attack, but I never said anything. I didn’t want to drive you away,” you said, tears no longer holding back from your eyes.

“You could never drive me away, not now and not ever, darling,” he said, one of his hands leaving your hands, resting and caressing on your cheek, his thumb wiping away the one the closest tear to it. 

“If I had known before the meeting, I never would have met with him, never would have bothered, but it was too late. So, I needed to find a way to stop your uncle from trying this project with him or with anyone else.”

“Inviting your boss all the way out here seems a little extreme, doesn’t it?” You couldn't help but ask, a playful laugh left your lips. 

Kento shrugged his shoulders, “it was all i could do to stop him entirely, if your uncle was like I thought of him, which I was correct, he would have took his deal to the Zenins,” your eyes widened at that name, “and they are much more ruthless than Satoru, i could never stop them alone. I doubt there wasn't anything they would have done if they couldn't get your orchard.”

Your eyes blinked, Toji’s words about his old family echoing in your head, it seemed like he really was right about them. 

“But I also knew Satoru, and if he thought something was a good deal, it would still take a lot to convince him not to take it. So I had to use the two things that would convince him not to, his competitive spirit as well as his sweet tooth.”

“Competitive spirit?” you questioned, before suddenly meaning Saotru’s words, him saying that Kento won after he had spoken to you while eating his desserts.

“You made a bet with your boss?” You questioned

“I made a bet with a friend, a friend who I knew couldn’t resist the call of anything sweet. I gave your deserts the highest compliments, which were true to every level as well, but he didn’t know that. I knew  that it would catch his attention well, and it seems I was right.”

“And if he didn’t, you know, like my treats?” you couldn't help but ask him,

“Then I would resign as CFO, effective immediately.”

Your mouth fell open in shock, face wide, “what?? You put your job on the line? Kento!” You shrieked, squeezing his hands.

“Like I said, I would have done anything for you, but I knew your desserts would be up to the test. I really didn’t have anything to worry about.”

“But still,” you lamented, “you shouldn’t have given something that important to me.”

Suddenly, you let out a squeal as your body was suddenly pulled forward, your thighs landed in between his legs, his arm wrapping around your waist.

Gasping out a Kento, letting go of his hands, instead wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“I feel like you're not listening to me, when I said that I’ll do anything for you, I meant that. Plus you said it yourself, “I’m getting the sense that you don’t enjoy the job as much as you want to…” You were right, I didn't enjoy that job, I hated it and everyone around me knew it.”

You looked into his eyes, “Kento…”

His grip suddenly let off a squeeze, a slight, hitched gasp leaving your lips, “the time I’ve spent with you, it makes me want to give all of it up. All the money I’ve made from this job doesn’t matter, I’ve made more in a lifetime to sustain myself. It doesn’t matter to me.”

Shifting your legs, so they could sit comfortably on his lap, you couldn’t help the way heat began to blossom within you. 

“All that matters to me is you, and if I have to leave it all behind for you, then I will.”

“Kento…” you could say anything but his name, your heart overwhelming you. 

“I love you, and I don’t care for how long we have known each other, this is the truth, my truth.”

You lunged at him, holding him in a tight hug, resting your head within the crook between his neck and shoulders, your sniffles muffled in his shirt. 

“I’m assuming that my feelings are returned, then?” he chuckled in your ear.

Releasing him, your noses grazing each other, your eyes and face streaming with tears, and before you knew it, you had bent down, pressing your lips against his. You could feel his shock, Kenot definitely not expecting you to do something as bold as this, yet you couldn't care, especially not after he relaxed, before feeling him beginning to kiss you back. He tasted slightly sweet, of the apple donut the two of you ate together. As you kissed, your legs spread slightly, allowing your hips to slowly grind against him, feeling a slight groan leaving his lips.

With your lungs begging for air, slowly letting go, taking deep breaths, a sliver of spit connecting your wet lips with his own. Nothing but the sounds of your breaths, before looking into his eyes, they were dark, filled with a mixture of love and lust, and it was all for you. 

“Kento…” you trailed off, but he shook his head,

“We shouldn’t,” he tried, but your nails dug into his hair, keeping his eyes right on you, “you,”  he let out a gasp as your lips soon attached themselves to his neck, “you have the cafe to open–fuck–” he suddenly choked, his head being thrown back at a certain spot at his neck. 

Glancing over, you looked at the clock, watching the two hands click around the 7 and 9 numbers, before looking back at Kento, smirking.

“Grand opening is in two hours… I’m sure we’ll be finished before then, if not, I'm sure the kids downstairs can handle it, Kento,” you teased, smirking as your tongue slipped out of your mouth, slowly trailing against his neck. 

He let out another shaky gasp at the sound of his name, your tongue, his grips sliding down to your baggy sweatpants, squeezing your bottom. 

“BOSS!! We’re low on apple cider! And we got over a hundred people coming! Stop locking lips with your boyfriend and get down here!”

Your eyes widened at the sound of Maki pounding away at the door, the two of you jumping at the sudden sound. You glanced at each other, suppressing your smile while seeing Kento’s tentative own appearing on his face, 

“Guess they couldn't handle themselves,” Kento joked, before lifting you up on your feet and fixing his clothes. 

Scoffing and rolling your eyes, as you pulled your hoodie down, “more like they just want to block my blessings, they can easily make that apple cider by themselves”

Turning around towards your door, before taking a step before suddenly being flipped around, a squeal leaving your mouth before being muffled. Your lips pressed into a sudden kiss that disappeared as quickly as it came. Eyes widen, looking up at Kento who simply winked at you before keeping his arm right around your waist. With no other words, your own arm wrapped around his hips before walking towards the door.

SIX YEARS LATER

The hot summer sun shined down on the two of them. The sweat on his brow slowly dripped down, his arm reaching up as he wiped the slate liquid off his face, swaying from his blond eyebrows. Then, with a lot of force, he lifted the heavy ax with his hands, holding it high in the sky, he brought it down with equal force. The sharp edge of the ax sliced into the rotting wood, the strength easily splitting it into little pieces. Behind him, he could hear a little bit of grunting, glancing behind him, he saw Yuuji’s foot underneath a shovel, the metal part dug underneath the roots, and the ground lifting along with the roots. 

“Yuuji, I told you to leave that to me, you need to finish grinding the rotting wood,” Kento spoke, slowly placing the ax down in a safe place. 

The pink-haired young adult whines, “you’ve been doing a lot of this recently, I can’t let you do everything! Boss told me to help you!”

Kento shook his head, a smile on his face, “she knows better than to think I’ll let you do this, go grind the wood, we need it for the compost for the new trees from the nursery.”

Yuuji pouted, but he let go of the shovel, walking over to the pile of split wood, along with the woodchipper and its attached container, sitting on the stool. However, before he could turn it on, a voice called out to the two of them.

“Daddy!!” A voice screamed

Kento’s furrow relaxed, a smile appearing on his face as he turned around, only to be faced with a beautiful site. At two years old, his daughter, Kaia, was full of energy and spirit, her smile wide as she was running up to him. Kento looked over at Yuuji, seeing him already up and collecting the ax and shovel to keep away from her as she approached them. Behind them, you were walking up, your curls out, slicked up and held together, shining against the summer sun, wearing a simple, bright purple bodycon dress. In your arms, a basket hung from your elbow, probably with lunch for everyone out here. 

“Oh, my baby,” his smile was wide, as his daughter ran into his arms, her little arms wrapping around his neck as much as she could. 

“Daddy, you stink,” her little face grimaced as she sat in her father’s arms. 

Her words didn’t deter Kento, in fact, it only made his smile wider, “oh I stink, huh?” is all he said, before wrapping his arms around her tighter, hearing her little squeals as she tried to squirm out of his hold. 

By the time Kento let him go, you had already arrived at the area where they were working. Yuuji screamed “Boss!”  before making his way over towards you. 

“I see the two of you have been working hard,” is the first thing you said, running your fingers through Yuuji’s hair as he gave you a long hug. 

Kaia ran back over to you, her arms wrapping around your legs, easily attaching herself to you. Kento walked over to you, seeing a smirk slowly appear on your face as he stood right in front of you. His arms crossed as you tilted your head, following his actions and crossing your arms as well. 

“Well, hello to you, Mr. Nanami,” you teased, slightly straining your head to look up at him.

Almost immediately, his arms shot out, wrapping themselves around your waist, “and hello to you, Mrs. Nanami.”

Kento leaned down, prepared to kiss you, his wife when all of a sudden a loud “eeeewwww” suddenly stopped the two of you. Kent glanced around, while you looked down, no longer feeling a pressure on your legs. 

“That’s nasty,” your daughter called out, sticking her tongue out as she sat in Yuuji’s arms. 

“Come on Kaia, let’s leave the two of them alone.” Yuuji said, turning around while holding your daughter.

Kento heard giggles leaving your mouth, his heart beating as he heard them. Even after all these years, you could still incite such a reaction from him, his cheeks already pink from the hot summer sun, only deepening as your hands slide from his arms to his hips. 

“If you're gonna go, you should take this basket, it’s got lunch for all of us,” you called out to Yuuji, who swiftly came and took the basket out of your hands.

Kaia shifted from his arms to his back, commanding Yuuji like a horse to go faster, running into the orchard towards the pond. Now with the two of you alone, nothing stopped him from leaning down, softly pressing his lips up against your glossy ones, so familiar with the texture, urging him to deepen the kiss. Despite the two of you living together and mainly working in the same place, he kissed you as if he had been away for a month. He could feel your hands gripping the fat and smile of his hip, your head and back bending backward, your knees buckling underneath the pressure and pleasure of the kiss.

The moment he let go, you let out a breathy “Kento,” your eyes fluttered as you looked at him. 

Four long years, it’ll be four years in the winter season when he made a decision that changed his life for the good. In those four years, he quit his job at Gojo Inc., but still kept his stocks in the company, as well as a well-packaged pension, a gift from Satoru and Suguru when he made his decision a year after meeting you. The two of you got married two weeks after he quit his job, and nine months after that, the two of you welcomed your gorgeous and lovely daughter as well. In those four years, life has changed immensely for both you and Kento.

Your uncle no longer came by, no more threats to you for the orchard. Kento, Satoru and Suguru made sure of that. Megumi went abroad for school, pushed by you, Yuuji, and Toji as well. With confirmation that you and he will talk every week, he went on a prestigious scholarship to one of the top schools globally. Yuta, Inumaki, Maki, and Nobara all go to the college closest to the town, with them still coming on the weekends and breaks to work. Yuuji decided to follow in his older brother’s footsteps, working as a junior officer at the station, but he still works at the Orchard as well. 

It’s been an eventful four years.

He hadn’t spoken to his father in two years, an obligatory call when the man’s birthday floated around the corner. After that call, it was time to let him go, hiring an at-home nursing company to take care of the elderly man until his final days. The feeling of you pinching his side brought him out of his mind, looking down at you to see your face, while smiling, eyes filled with concern.

“Everything okay up here?” you mumbled, one of your hands leaving his side.

He shivered as he felt your hands run through his hair, the shorter nails scratching against his scalp. 

“Everything’s fine,” he mumbled back, his head bending back in slight thrill at the feeling of your running lines through his hair.

“Just happy, at everything that’s happened, how much my life changed the moment I came here.”

You smiled, lifting yourself up at the tips of your toes, before placing a longing kiss on his cheek, “I’m assuming it changed for the better?” you questioned.

He nodded his head, before tightening his grip on you, his heart leaping out of his chest as he heard your squeals as he dipped your body down. 

“Kento!” You squealed, holding onto him, as he leaned over you, beginning to press kisses all along your face. 

The sun hovered over the two of you, shining over your love as he kissed you, and you accepted his love in full force as well. In the background, you could hear your little girl telling the two of you to hurry up in her little sweet voice. Slowly lifting you up, Kento held you close, feeling your head leaning against his arms as the two of you walked into the Orchard, towards the pond. 

What good is a man, if he is a lost man?

He’s not good to anyone at all, but now a lost man has something to look forward to. A light to guide him. 

A lost man has been found and surrounded with the love he deserves. 

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddie-spooktober day 17: hayride | T | wc: 1,306

tags: strangers to lovers, confident eddie munson, farmhand eddie munson, pickup lines, getting together

“Alright folks, watch your step getting off– lemme help you down, ma’am, there you go–last ride of the night! Who’s gettin’ on?” 

The man finishes off his speech and looks around at the designated ride loading area, “Just you then sir?”

Steve casts a look around for the man the driver (in an extremely well-fitting cowboy getup and dark leather hat too) must be talking to, ready to hold up his own hand to indicate to Hot Cowboy that the other man is not, in fact, alone for the ride.

But there’s no other man.

Steve is the ‘Sir’ in question.

Oh god.

“Oh god,” Steve echoes aloud, “I didn’t realize I was the only one, please, no need to bother with a last ride, I’m sure you want to get home too.”

Hot Cowboy looks down at him from the driver’s seat (does the bench of a hay cart have a driver’s seat?), then around at the lack of other people.

“Would you like a ride?”

Surely he didn’t mean it that way, but Steve’s cheeks flush a bit nonetheless, “Well I do, but—”

“Then hop aboard, stranger, only a bit of sun left in the day.”

Steve suddenly can’t tell if the accent is just for show or not.

“No, really, I’ll come back another day,” he says, backing away, “I just wanted to go today since it’s my birth– nevermind, I’m not going to hold you up for just me.”

“How ‘bout this, you get on, and I’ll drive us and the lovebirds here to the barn.” he says, gesturing to the two horses hitched to the cart, an all black, and a sandy sort of brown one. “Short, sweet, everyone gets what they want.”

Steve blinks, “That’s uh.. Yeah. Okay.”

Hot Cowboy grins at him, happy where Steve thought there’d be annoyance. “Great! C’mon in then, the hay’s great!”

“You sure? I think it’s gonna be pokey and itchy.” Steve jokes nervously, climbing the stationary steps up to the cart.

This orchard’s hay rides are a bit different than others Steve’s been to in his life; there were no bales of hay, just a large (slightly trodden now) pile of hay in the back of an ancient-looking cart.

“Promise. Now lay back and get comfy big boy, we got a bit of a ride to the barn.”

Steve did as he was told, all the while Hot Cowboy watched him carefully step into the cart.

Once he was in and settled back so he was reclined against the pile of hay, facing back off the open end of the cart, Hot Cowboy clicked his tongue, snapped the reins, and they were off.

Almost immediately the soft rocking and teetering of the cart lulled him calmer. The wear the day had taken on him, extra annoying since it was piled on when he’d been trying to take a half day for his birthday, seeping deeper into his bones with every squeak of a wheel.

There was a shift of clothes, then: “Long day, huh?”

“Hm?” Steve opened his eyes again, not really knowing when he’d closed them in the first place, “Oh, yeah.. lots piled onto me unexpectedly.” He shrugged, not knowing if Hot Cowboy was even still looking back at him to see, “It happens.”

The other man hummed an agreement, and for a while, It was quiet. Steve stared drowsily up at the ever-purpling sky above him, cut over every now and again by the thin bare branches of the trees on either side of their path, and counted the stars as they appeared.

Every once in a while, Hot Cowboy would let out a short, low whistle, or a hushed, “Hey!”, or “Quit nipping at him, Sandy!” to the horses.

After a whole, surprisingly bright, thirteen stars made their appearance, Hot Cowboy again spoke to him. “So, no other plans for your birthday than to come hang out with lil’ ol’ me?”

Steve tipped his head backward and half into the pile of hay to look upside down at the back of the other man. And only now realizing he had a long, dark braid tied out under the back of his hat.

”How’d you know it was my birthday?”

”You started to say so earlier,” he says, glancing back at Steve with a smile. He looks back to the path, “No wife or girlfriend to spend it with?”

Smooth. Steve thinks, smiling to himself, then says “My best friend and I are doing Late Birthday when she comes back from a work trip in a couple days, but other than that, you’re it, partner.”

Hot Cowboy snorts a laugh at Steve’s admittedly very bad accent, then, just to tease the cowpoke, Steve says, “And no boyfriend either.”

Another snort, “Good to know, sweetheart.”

They lapse into silence again, and next thing he knows, someone is nudging his shoulder.

Steve snaps upright, jackknifing his butt deeper into the hay under him. It’s much darker now, and as his eyes adjust, he realizes they’re in the barn already.

"Hey, whoa, sorry to wake you.” He looks over to the voice, Hot Cowboy is looking at him concerned. His hat gone, his hair loose now, “You okay?”

“Yeah.. yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep like that.” Steve says, rubbing his eyes then instinctively running his fingers through his hair for any stray strands of straw.

”No worries sweetheart,” The accent was for show after all, it seems, since it was gone enough to be noticeable when he continues on to say “D’ya need a hand?”

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” Steve reaches for his hand, off to the side of the cart, which Hot cowboy grabs and uses as leverage to swing a leg over the side and straddle the low wall.

For some unknown reason, that’s the thing that Did It for Steve.

The smoothness of the motion, the tight squeak of the denim as he sits and his leg stretches beneath the fabric, the solid clump the heel of his boot makes when it makes contact with the cart bed…. no matter which it was, his sudden desire for this dusty, probably sweaty, stranger gets the better of him and Steve hauls Hot Cowboy toward him instead. He lands on Steve with an “Oomph!” and a quickly brightening face only a hair's breadth away from his.

“Care to go for a roll in the hay?” Steve asks in a low tone, nudging Hot Cowboy’s nose gently with his own.

Two seconds pass, each one seeming to take only a fraction of itself and an eon to pass before Steve is trying his damndest to squirm away, apologizing profusely as he does.

”Oh my god, oh my god! I am so so sorry, holy shit, I don’t know what came over me I—“

Hot Cowboy’s fingers press against his lips, cutting off the flow of apologies.

”Let me process for a moment, Jesus H. Christ.” Another four of five eons pass, the other man’s face slowly draining of it’s excess color before: “As much as I want to say yes, and believe me, I want, I’d rather not traumatize my Uncle’s horses..”

Oh my god this is his farm. His Uncle’s farm. Fresh hot embarrassment floods into Steve’s face and gullet.

Hot Cowboy notices the change and smiles, “How ’bout this big boy, you tell me your name, I tell you mine, then we find convenient excuses to make out all the way back to your car. Sound like a plan?”

Steve nods vigorously and Hot Cowboy removes his fingers. ”I’m Steve.” he blurts as soon as they’ve gone.

Hot Cowboy grins lopsidedly at him, putting the accent on again to say, “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Stevie. The name’s Eddie, but you can call me the man of your dreams.”

like almost always, graphics are from @saradika-graphics!

[beneathstarryskies]

Word Count: 1,285 Warnings: fem!reader, pentration (p+v), oral (f recieving), fluffy Summary: You reunite with Halsin after the events in Baldur's Gate. A/N: This is just a little thing I had some inspo for

The moon shines over the water, bright and silver as the pieces in your pack. It’s been a long journey, one most ardently taken so you could be reunited with Halsin at last. He’s still awake when you cross the bridge to Last Light Inn. He peers out the window to see you, and a small smile tugs on his lips. 

You hardly recognize the lands that used to be shadow-cursed. Lush greenery grows along the side of Last Light, covering it in vines and flowers. Moss and grass have begun growing between the stonework at your feet. It used to be trodden down by the activity of the Harpers but has since slowed down since the area is in relative peace. 

Halsin comes out the door at the same time you’re approaching it. Without hesitation, he wraps you up in a warm bear hug. You giggle as your feet lift from the ground, and he spins you around. 

“My heart, I’ve watched the horizon for you,” he declares as he carefully sets you down on your feet again. He cups your cheeks gently and smiles down at you with such warmth. 

“I came as soon as I could,” you say before leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him sweetly. “I’m sorry it took so long.” 

“It’s no matter, my heart. I only thank the Oakfather that you’re here with me now.” 

He reaches down to take your hand in his, and he leads you inside. You’re surprised he’s taken up residence in the inn, but he explains that the Tiefling children had already come to see this place as home so he decided to take up residence here as well while they worked on building their little homestead. 

“There’s a place for you, of course,” he says as he leads you upstairs to his room. “That is if you intend on staying.” 

That is something you’ve thought about at length. Whether you would choose to stay or continue your adventures. However, the decision was made the moment Halsin took you into his arms again. You were home. 

“I would love to stay, and embark on a new adventure at your side,” you say gently. 

“I would like that too,” he confirms before ushering you inside his room. He guides you to sit on the bed, and before you have time to ask he’s kneeling before you. His deft fingers begin undoing the laces of your well-worn boots. He slips them off carefully and sets them aside. Then his warm hands are rubbing your legs through your pants. He can hardly wait to get his hands on you after so long apart, but he knows you’ve been traveling for a while. He wants to assure you’re comfortable before even considering making a proper move on you. “Do you need anything, my heart? A bath? A meal?” 

“A bath would be lovely,” you let out a blissful sigh. “I must smell horrible.” 

He chuckles softly, “If it was day we’d bathe in the lake, but I suppose you’d like me to fill the tub instead for the night?” 

You nod eagerly. As he goes to fill the tub, you stand from the bed to begin to take off your clothes. It feels so good to free yourself from the weight of your armor, and finally stand bare. Halsin uses magic to heat your bathwater, then turns to you. His eyes widen as he sees your body bared to him. He comes closer to you, and his breath is shaky as he places his hands on your hips. 

“Oh, how have I forgotten how beautiful you are? Could it be my memory is not as strong as the vision before me?” he whispers. 

You lean in to kiss him passionately, raising once more onto your tiptoes. You tug at his clothes. 

“Join me in the bath,” you say with the slightest plea in your voice. 

“You don’t have to ask twice.” 

You help him out of his clothes, then you allow him into the bath first so you can settle yourself between his legs with your back to his chest. His hands are on your body under the guise of washing you, but the soap in his hands is merely a flimsy excuse to feel you up to his heart’s content. 

“I missed you,” he whispers against your ear. 

“I missed you too,” you smile softly before laying your head back against his shoulder so you can see his face. His eyes are fixed on you with unbridled adoration. 

He presses soft kisses on your cheek and along your jawline. His hands are gentle, but reverential, on your skin. He kneads and caresses with care, but he is holding back. You can tell by the way his breath feels slightly heavier and he keeps adjusting his position slyly hoping you won’t feel how hard he is just from washing you. 

Finally, you can’t help yourself anymore. You turn around in the bath and move to straddle his lap. His eyes light up with excitement as you lean in to kiss him deeply. Your tongues rub together in a sensual dance of longing. He caresses your sides gently, and guides you to grind against him. His cock throbs against your core. 

“Should we get out?” you whisper against his mouth as you pull away from the kiss. 

“Oh, yes. I think we should.” 

He helps you out of the bath and leads you to the bed. He’s kissing you deeply as he lays you down, and hovers over your form. 

“Is this okay?” he asks. He awaits your eager consent before continuing. 

His lips travel the curves and dips of your body like a leaf sailing across the river. He moans just from feeling your body again. His heart races in his chest with pure excitement. Finally, after what seems to be a hundred kisses, he spreads your thighs. He lays between them, and you hear a low growl escape his throat as he smells the musk of your arousal. He leans in to drag his tongue along your slit before suckling on your folds. 

“Mm, delicious,” he grunts before returning to his task with increased fervor. You throw your head back against the pillows as he flicks his tongue against your clit. You roll your eyes back with pleasure, and resist the urge to grind against his face. 

The dim candlelight falls over the room, casting intimate shadows on the wall. When he looks up at you again, his eyes are lit up in shades of gold. You caress his cheeks. 

“I need you,” you whine. 

“Then you’ll have me.” 

He sits up on his knees, and gives his cock a few gentle strokes before guiding himself to your entrance. You watch his face contort with pleasure as he slides into you. After so long apart, your walls stretch around his girth as though it’s the first time you’ve taken it. When he bottoms out, you let out a gentle whine. 

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, ready to pull out if the answer is yes. He lets out a breath of relief he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when you shake your head. 

“No, it’s just been so long.” 

“I’ll be gentle,” he promises as he lowers his body against yours. He kisses you soothingly as he starts moving slowly, his hips rocking in a gentle rhythm. 

“H-halsin,” you moan.

“Mm, yes?” he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. 

“It feels so good.” 

“I know, my heart,” he whispers. “I’m already having to hold back.” 

“Don’t worry about holding back,” you giggle before kissing him again. “We have plenty of time now.”

[moonsandmobilityaids]

The Christmas Holidays

Pairings: Poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: James wants you to come to his for the christmas holiday, and you have to explain why that's not possible Warnings: Themes of Christmas Series Masterlist

James leans back against the wood paneling at the foot of your bed, his expression unreadable. Your room is a comfortable sanctuary tucked away from the bustling common area of Gryffindor tower, the walls lined with books and personal trinkets that tell a story of your time at Hogwarts. The fire burns low in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the floor.

"So," he draws out the word, raising an eyebrow as if to invite you into some secret plot. "I've been thinking—how about spending Christmas at my parents' house this year?"

The suggestion hangs in the air, disrupting the stillness of the winter day outside. Snowflakes fall gently against the windowpane, their delicate dance a sharp contrast to the racing thoughts inside your head. You've spent previous holidays within the castle's stone walls, the silence of empty corridors both a comfort and a reminder of the solitude that often accompanies the festive season.

"Sirius usually comes along too," James adds, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, watching you for a reaction. His hazel eyes are bright with anticipation, the mischievous grin never far from his lips. "Mum and Dad would love to meet you properly." He says it casually, as though the idea isn't monumental, but to you, it feels like an earthquake shifting the very ground beneath you.

A small smile touches your lips, not of joy, but in recognition of the well-trodden path this conversation always seems to take. "That sounds lovely, James," you respond, your voice barely a whisper as you reach out to squeeze his hand. "But... you know I can't."

His grin falters, confusion knitting his brows together. "What? Why not? It's Christmas! The house will be full of cheer—Mum's been asking about you for months."

Remus lowers his book, the pages rustling softly as he sets it aside. He moves to sit next to you on the bed, his presence a silent reassurance. You shift slightly, gathering the strength to continue, your tone light despite the heavy words.

"It's the journey, James." You lift your hand, fingers brushing against the charm bracelet encircling your wrist—the one with charms for each of the boys that grows warm when they think of you. Right now, it feels like a gentle hearth fire. "I can't handle the Hogwarts Express and all the travelling. It takes at least three days for me to recover from a trip like that. And that's just the train, not considering everything else—five seizures minimum on a travel day really does a number on me."

James's expression tightens, a frown marring his forehead as he leans in, his gaze steady, searching yours for understanding. He knows—has seen—how your body rebels against you in ways that are cruel and unpredictable. But this...

"But... we've got two whole weeks, love," he says, the words slow and heavy, like stones sinking into deep water.

You offer him a smile, one that doesn't quite reach your eyes but carries with it a quiet patience born of years navigating the treacherous currents of your condition. "It's not that simple. It's a day of travel, at least three days of recovery, and then we have to hope my body cooperates, and given it’s winter, that’s unlikely. That’s not how I want to meet your parents. Not when I’ll barely be able to stay awake for a proper conversation - it was bad enough that that’s kind of how I met Remus’s mum, and we weren’t even together then. And honestly, my parents would be upset because I never see them for Christmas either.”

"Except in second year," Remus interjects, "but that's because you were in St. Mungo's over the holidays."

"Exactly." You glance at Remus, grateful for his understanding.

James starts to say something, then hesitates. His gaze softens as he grasps the reality of your situation. He squeezes your hand, his thumb tracing small circles against your skin. "I... I hadn't thought about it that way before."

"I know you didn't." You reach up, fingers ghosting over his cheek. "And I do want to meet them, but I want to be at my best when I do. A short holiday doesn't give me enough time to recover. I promise, I'll come during the summer. Two months—that should be plenty for both travel and recovery. I'll be able to spend quality time with them then."

His eyes search yours, wrestling with the truth of your words. "Summer, huh?"

"Summer," you confirm, the word hanging between you like a promise. "You, me, Remus, Sirius. I'll finally meet your parents, and we won't be rushed."

Remus chuckles, the sound low and comforting as he leans back against the headboard. "Summer sounds just about perfect. You won't be able to get rid of us once we're there, Prongs."

James cracks a grin, the first genuine one you've seen since the conversation began, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes—those remain clouded with worry. He exhales slowly, running his fingers through his messy hair, a gesture you've come to associate with deep thought—or deep frustration. "I just wish... I wish we could all be together for Christmas."

You shake your head gently, the warmth from your bracelet seeping into your skin as you squeeze his hand once more. "I want you to go, James. Have a wonderful Christmas with your parents. They'll miss you if you don't. And...you can tell them all about me." You manage a small smile, your heart fluttering at the thought. "By the time summer comes around, they'll feel like they already know me."

But James is already shaking his head, his decision etched in the stubborn set of his jaw. "No, I've made up my mind." His gaze holds yours, unyielding. "I'm staying here at Hogwarts."

"James—" you begin, your protest lodged in your throat, but he cuts you off, his hands now cradling both of yours.

"No, listen. I need to be with you. And with Remus and Sirius. I love spending Christmas with my parents, but it wouldn't be right knowing you're here alone. We should be together." His smile softens, the corners of his eyes crinkling with sincerity. "I can always bring you home with me in the summer. It'll be worth the wait."

You blink, taken aback by the swiftness of his decision. Your gaze shifts to Remus, whose smile flickers like a secret shared in the depths of the night. "Are you sure?" you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper against the thickening silence.

"Without a doubt," James affirms, and there's a warmth that starts to build within you—not just from the charm bracelet, but from the strength of his loyalty, the depth of his love.

"Thank you," you murmur, the words brushed with the softness of unshed tears.

James leans over, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Anything for you, love."

Remus chuckles beside you, a low rumble of affectionate amusement. He reaches over, ruffling James' hair with a teasing grin. "You're too good for us, Prongs."

"Nah." James' reply is laced with a nonchalance that belies the intensity of his conviction. "I just know what matters."

The door swings open abruptly, and Sirius strides in, a dusting of snow still clinging to his hair and shoulders. He shakes it off, sending small flurries across the wooden floor. Without missing a beat, he sprawls onto the floor, stretching out like a contented dog.

"So," he says, looking up at the others, "what'd I miss?"

Remus chuckles, a low rumble that resonates in the otherwise quiet room. "James has decided to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas."

Sirius's eyebrows shoot up, and his lips pull into a sly grin that mirrors James's own. "Is that so?" he drawls, rolling onto his side to face them better. "Well then, I suppose we'll just have to make this the best bloody Christmas Hogwarts has ever seen, won't we?"

James laughs, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. "That's the plan, mate."

And just like that, the heaviness of before seems to lift, replaced by the warmth of the fire, the sound of shared laughter, and the knowledge that this Christmas will be spent together.

[yokohamapound]

BSD Boys With a Nervous Flier S/O

For Amulet! <3

(I added Chuuya for me. :P)

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Edogawa Ranpo, Nakahara Chuuya

Contents: NSFW jokes/references, fear of flying.

Dazai Osamu

Don’t bother trying to hide it. Dazai can pick up on every tiny little tell, so unless you’ve got the world’s best poker face, he’ll figure it out before you say a single word. It’s all there, the shrunken pupils when he shows you the tickets, wiping your sweaty palms on your pants when you’re booking the taxi to the airport, the harsh, unsteady breathing when you’re queueing to check in. 

For once, wisely, he drops the double suicide jokes. The last thing you need to think about right now is you or him dying, and he’s that much of an ass. Most of the time.

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, leaning in and whispering in your ear so it doesn’t carry to the other passengers in the boarding queue. “Guess what?”

You frown, distracted momentarily, and look at him. “What?”

His eyes glitter with mischief, and his smile widens into a full blown smirk. “You know how your ears sometimes pop when the cabin pressure changes? They say you should have chew gum or suck on candy.”

Your eyes narrow, suspicious. Dazai leans down to look into your eyes, grinning. 

“I don’t have any candy, but I’ve got something you can su—oww!”

He deserved to have his foot trodden on, really. Dazai might pout, but internally he’s smug that his plan to distract you worked. He’s got plenty more like that up his sleeve. 

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Flying with Fyodor is something different entirely. With the weight (and wallet) of the Decay of Angels behind him, he would never fly on a commercial airline. Normally he doesn’t care much - he’ll take a helicopter or some other type of solo plane. If he’s taking his precious myshka though, he’s flying in style. 

Naturally, he already knows about your fear of flying.

You can take comfort in the fact that Fyodor has literally already thought of everything. There are multiple contingency plans for any conceivable emergency onboard the jet. He has a backup helicopter. There are parachutes. There are backup parachutes. 

All you have to do is get dolled up and sit pretty on one of the luxurious recliner seats, being fed little tidbits of fruit and cake and sipping champagne. Fyodor has his laptop out, watching the endless screeds of incomprehensible information, one resting on your thigh, thumb tracing circles into your warm, soft skin. 

If you want a sedative, he’ll allow it, though his tone is subtly disapproving. He doesn’t like seeing you passed out (unless he’s been the one to drug you or exhaust you, naturally.) Still, if it makes you feel better.

He has…other methods to distract you however. Ones you’ll learn all about when he orders the cabin crew out of the main seating area and draws the curtains. You’ll be flying so high you might not even notice you’ve landed. 

Edogawa Ranpo

Ranpo has an easy solution to all your fears and anxieties—he’s such a baby that you have to look after him and you just won’t have time to worry about the plane going down, because you’ll be trying to convince him he can’t cram a whole gumball machine in his suitcase.

“It’ll fit!”

“You know it won’t! It’s physically impossible. You’re supposed to be a genius!”

“Well, I'm on vacation!”

He’s exuberant and excited to wander through Duty Free and buy all the varieties of chocolate and snacks they sell. Ranpo isn’t getting on that plane without snacks. Have you eaten plane food? That’s simply not going to cut it for the World’s Greatest Detective. 

It’s almost…calculated, the way he seems to rush off to a new thing every time your jitters start coming back. Your heart starts to race, your mouth goes dry, and then you notice Ranpo is gone from your side again. 

By the time you get onto the actual plane, you’re lowkey exhausted, and he still looks as smug as ever, his bag of chips rustling as he snacks in his seat. He opens his eyes, looks around the plane with that sharp, green gaze, then shrugs and settles against the backrest. 

“Nothing wrong with the plane, we’ll be fine,” he declares, tossing a chip into his mouth. “Do you think they have Ramune?”

Nakahara Chuuya

Chuuya is a well-travelled guy due to his position as a Port Mafia executive and enforcer. It seems as if he gets sent abroad now and then to look after the mafia’s foreign interests and contracts. Koyo seems to stay back more, acting as Mori’s advisor, so it’s Chuuya who racks up the airmiles. He generally travels first or business class, because he’s not about to be back in the cattle runs—sorry, economy. 

He’s so used to it by now that booking the flights, packing, and getting to the airport are a breeze. It’s so mundane to him that he’s a little surprised to find out how frightened you are. He has to admit, it’s kinda cute. 

He lounges next to you in your first class seats, a glass of wine in one hand and your hip in the other, cuddling you against his side. 

“Dollface, what’re you shakin’ for?” he teases, poking you in the ribs. “You forgettin’ who you’re flyin’ with?”

Oh. That’s right. Mr. Gravity Master himself. 

“So if something happens, you could stop the plane falling?” you ask, almost in disbelief. 

He scoffs. “What do you take me for? You’re gonna be on the safest flight in existence. They should be paying me to fly.”

[marvel-snape-writes]

To Be Alone With You.

Snape x original female character

18+ fluff and smut

5k+ words

Severus Snape and Eleanor's relationship has blossomed over the past months, though due to their working schedules, they often find it hard to share more than just a sneaky kiss here and there whilst at Hogwarts. With this being the case, they decide a weekend away in a cabin where some of those earliest memories were made may just be the best setting to make up for lost time... (please also note that although Eleanor is the same name as the female characters in the other one shots, the stories do not follow on! Just the same name because I seem incapable of thinking of another... 😂)

((the gif reflects the bad weather outside the cabin I guess😭😂)

Their fingers laced together like the roots of the trees beneath them, fallen twigs from the branches above snapping as they walked over them. The ground was damp, but they walked the already trodden path through the wooded area.

“We spoke too soon about the weather.” She looked up at him as the grey clouds turned even more ominous.

“I think we have a good fifteen minutes before the heavens open.” Severus glanced up at the sky before down at her, shrugging.

“And about… twenty minutes before we get back to the cabin?” She laughed, squeezing his hand gently.

“I could always…” He gestured toward his wand, arching a brow.

“What, and deprive me from potentially seeing you in a wet shirt?” She pouted her lips playfully, still looking up at him.

“Well, I could make it rain, but who would purposefully want that?” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“You’d be surprised.” She winked, crinkling her nose.

Her eyes moved from looking up at Severus to the path in front of them, walking in comfortable silence. Memories came back to her of the days not that long ago when they would take their walks here as often as possible for an excuse to see each other without the crowds or watchful eyes of Hogwarts. Glancing to her left, she saw the tree where they stood upon sharing their first kiss, blushing like mad, hands trembling, a nervous laugh after. Since then, it had become place they had coined as theirs.

Through spring to summer, autumn to winter, whether it be flowers blooming or snow falling, they had walked the same path for the last few months. Though the days of sneaking around Hogwarts and kisses in dark alcoves sworn to secrecy were pretty much behind them, they still weren't overly open about their fooling around or affections toward one another in front of people who weren't in their close-knit circle. That being the case, the woods offered them not only nostalgia from their early days, but also comforting privacy.

“Oh, god!” Eleanor looked up at the sky again when she felt it begin to drizzle.

“Are you sure you don't want me to clear the sky?” Severus asked, placing his hand over his wand again.

“I just think you're worried that you’ll get beaten in our race back to the cabin…” Eleanor giggled, nudging his side playfully.

“What race back to the cabin?” Severus squinted his eyes.

“This one!” She exclaimed as the drops of rain grew larger and began to fall at a faster rate.

Eleanor giggled loudly as they ran through the woods, each step creating a splashing sound as their boots hit the muddy surface. The rain continued to pour and soaked them down to their skin, feeling now as if the way back to the cabin was endless.

“Ha!” She grinned, turning to him out of breath as she pushed the wooden door open.

Severus opened his mouth to say something but remained in the doorway instead - only this time, he was hunched over with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. His eyes were shut briefly before his gaze fixed to the floor, panting.

“Winner gets a kiss.” Eleanor walked closer to him with the grin still on her face.

Severus’ gaze lifted from the floor and met hers, a glaring expression on his face as he finally caught his breath enough to speak, “I don't recall making any agreement.”

“I recall you promising not to be grumpy.” Eleanor rolled her eyes, standing with her hands upon her hips.

“I don't believe I would ever make such an… unrealistic promise.” Severus stood up straight.

“Sev…” She pouted, narrowing her eyebrows.

“Hm?” He scowled as their eyes met again. Eleanor exhaled slowly as she focused on his expression, watching in amusement as his serious face broke, speaking with a smile, “Of course you can have a kiss, my love.”

Eleanor’s cheeks blushed as Severus cupped her face in his hands, pressing his smile against hers as they shared a kiss. She placed her hands against his wet shirt and kissed him back, leaning up on her tiptoes.

“Mm, thank you, Professor.” She winked as the kiss broke.

“You’re soaked through, let me get you something dry.” Severus said before walking in the direction of the bedroom and waving his wand toward the open fire to set it alight in the process.

“Hang on!” Eleanor called as he pushed the bedroom door open.

“Something the matter?” He arched a brow as he leaned against the doorway, facing her again.

“No, no,” She shook her head, biting her lip with a grin as she looked toward him. Her eyes took their time whilst gazing upon the rain-wet shirt that was clung to his body, trying not to smirk, “Just saving that image.”

Severus rolled his eyes playfully and shook his head, turning to walk into the bedroom again. Eleanor remained in front of the fire and removed her wet clothing, draping it over the closest piece of furniture to the fire in an attempt of drying it.

“I…” He began to speak as he walked into the room, stopping in his tracks when he saw her stood in her underwear and being mesmerised by what stood before him as if he hadn't had that exact same body in his arms last night. Eleanor hadn't heard his reentry into the room again and remained with her back to him as she stood in front of the fire, much to his relief, “It would appear we only brought one change of clothes, apparently… so you can wear my shirt. A dry one!” He swallowed hard, “Obviously…”

“I suppose we both assumed we wouldn't be wearing much during our time here…” Eleanor spoke with a grin as she turned around.

“Mm…” Severus’ lip twitched from the memory of the previous night as he stepped forward, handing her the shirt.

“Thank you,” She smiled softly as she took it from him, “Nice robe.” She said as her eyes scanned over the silky material that was upon his body.

“It’s nice to be in something dry.” He chucked.

“You’re telling me!” Eleanor giggled, unclasping her bra and placing it in front of the fire with the other items of clothing before pulling his shirt on and fastening a few of the buttons.

“Would you like me to get a towel for your hair?” He asked, laughing as he spoke again, “I think we could both do with it, actually.”

“Good idea!” She giggled, walking into the kitchen once he made his way back into the bedroom.

The rain was still beating against the windows, one of which were still on the latch. Eleanor hopped up onto one of the kitchen counter to reach it, carefully closing it as the merciless rain continued to pound on the glass.

“Ah, you’re in here.” Severus spoke as he stepped into the kitchen before asking in a slightly amused tone, “What do you think you’re doing up there, hm?”

“Just closing the window.” She smiled as she turned back around.

“It’s really not stopping out there, is it?” He sighed, rubbing the towel against his hair before handing it to her as he stepped closer.

“Not one bit,” She shook her head, taking the towel from him appreciatively, “But outside doesn't matter when we've got this right here, does it?” She arched a brow, looking around the cabin with a devilish grin.

“I like where this is going…” Severus licked his lips slowly, watching as she attempted at drying her hair with the towel.

“Oh, you do, Professor?” She smirked, about to hop off the kitchen counter before Severus stepped further forward, preventing her from getting down.

“Stay there,” He spoke softly, placing his hands against the counter at either side of her as he dipped his head, speaking before a kiss, “It’s perfect.”

Eleanor leaned back on her arms for a few moments as he leaned over her, though only staying in that position for a short while before sitting back up again and snaking her arms around his neck, wanting them to be closer to each other. The kiss began to deepen, though before it got too deep, Severus pulled back. Eleanor opened her heavy eyes to watch him, her lips parting also when he took a couple of steps back and placed one of her calves against his shoulder. He turned his head to the side and allowed his eyes to flutter shut as he created a pathway of kisses from her inner calf all the way down to her inner thigh.

“O—Oh…” She sighed softly from the feeling — aware of Severus’ smirk when he noticed her breathing getting heavier the higher up his lips travelled.

His feather-light kisses continued against her inner thigh until his nose was met with the bottom of the shirt - his shirt - that she was wearing. He heard her softly gasp when he pulled back all together, however not for long as it was only moments later that he had her other leg upon his shoulder. He silently praised how well she held herself in such a position - one of her legs on each of his shoulders at this point. His lips gently dragged along the skin on the opposite leg from before, then trading his lips for the tip of his tongue once he got to her thigh. After a short while, he began to take it in turn with either leg, turning his head each way as he peppered tender kisses up and down them both and savouring each patch of skin as if not to take a single inch for granted. His eyes opened briefly to capture her reaction: leaned back on her hands, head barely even upright as she allowed soft whimpers to pass through her partially open lips.

“Mm, Sev…” She cooed, wanting to place her hand on his head but afraid she would lose her balance in her current position, “S-Severus, please…” She tried to nudge her hips closer to the edge of the kitchen counter each time Severus’ lips reached the higher end of her inner thigh.

“I’m afraid not, my love.” He shook his head, keeping his face close enough for her to feel his warm breath against her.

“But, why?” Her question was more of a whine, now desperate for more contact from the Professor.

“I’m sure you were brought up to know better than to make a mess in the kitchen.” He teased, his smirk now even more prominent against her sensitive skin.

“Whoever made up that silly rule clearly never experienced your unshaven face between their thighs…” She bit her lip, letting out a soft noise when she felt him purposefully brush his stubble against her skin as he lifted his head back up.

He arched a brow as their eyes met again, carefully placing her legs down against the counter again and looked at her with an innocent smile whilst trying to play dumb, “Hm?”

“Come back here.” She narrowed her eyebrows.

“Was that a command?” Severus cocked his head, leaning a little closer.

“If that's what it takes to get another kiss…” She pouted her lips, “Yes.”

“You know what happens when you look at me like that, Miss Eleanor,” His tone lowered and eyes glanced down at her lips briefly, their faces now a lot closer, “And when you tell me what to do.”

“Come… fucking… here…” She placed one of her hands against his cheek, pressing their lips together.

“Now, now…” He tried his best not to smirk this time, “Gentle.”

“It’s been too long to be gentle…” She whined against his lips, her thumb trembling over his cheek, “Aside from last night...”

“But we must…” He paused briefly to kiss her, moving one of his hands to the small of her back and bringing her closer to the edge of the counter, whispering “…pace ourselves, sweetheart.”

Her lips parted to say something before being met with his again, willingly wrapping her legs around him and placing her hands upon his neck. Severus lifted her smoothly off the counter and into the middle of the kitchen with his arms securely around her, their kisses getting harder with each step. By the time they had reached the doorway separating the kitchen and the living room, Eleanor's nails were soothingly scratching against the sides of his neck, knowing the effect this had on him.

Their eyes were closed, but the fire could be felt against them through the minimal clothing they were wearing to indicate how far into the room they were. Eleanor could feel his shivers each time her nails made contact with his skin, lightly nipping at his bottom lips between her teeth. Severus carefully placed her feet back on the ground when he felt his arms begin to tremble around her as a result of her nails running against his skin and placed his hands on the small of her back again, desperate for the kiss not to be broken. Eleanor’s hands moved to the material of the robe he was wearing and down to the fastening tie around it, resting her hands there as their tongues tangled together. Severus murmured something into her mouth as his sweating hands trembled against his shirt she was wearing, now able to feel the swelling between his legs.

“It’s your turn to show me you can pace yourself…” She whispered against his lips, breaking the kiss.

“Wh…” Severus began to say as his eyes opened, seeing Eleanor now on her knees in front of him with her hands still on the tie of his robe.

“You heard.” She smiled sweetly.

Severus swallowed hard, his lip twitching as his gaze moved to Eleanor’s hands as she unfastened his robe. Eleanor’s mouth fell open, watching in awe as his erection bounded out of his robe, parting between the material like Moses and the Red Sea. She leaned up a little further and placed her hands upon his upper thighs, licking her lips as her eyes settled on the tip of his cock.

“E-El… fuuuck…” He exhaled his words heavily as she enveloped her lips around the head of his length.

Eleanor suckled gently, not breaking eye contact with him for even a moment from the second she had got on her knees and knowing how this drove him all the more wild. She began to ease more of him into her mouth, slowly beginning to bob her head back and forth at a very steady pace. Somehow, Severus’ hands found themselves tangled in her hair, his head tipped forward for a few long moments until his eyes gave up; shutting them in pleasure as his head tilted backwards instead. He was not grasping at her hair or guiding her head, more soothingly moving his trembling fingertips against her scalp as they tangled in her hair and enjoying whatever pace she pleased. His breathing was heavy but his moans were gentle and in the rhythm of her head.

“Mm.. mm…” Eleanor murmured against him, teasing her tongue every now and then as she moved her head.

“E-Eleanor, sweetheart…” Severus narrowed his eyebrows, feeling himself falling under the spell of her mouth already, “Allow me to please you.”

Eleanor paused for a moment, pulling him out of her mouth completely before gazing up at him with an innocent expression, “Sev, there is nothing else I have craved more than your weight on top of me, but, please, let me worship your cock for a little while.”

“Mm, go ahead, Princess,” Severus nodded, after a few moments of shocked silence swallowing hard, “How can one say no to that, hm?” He let out a breathy chuckle.

Eleanor pushed him back into her mouth again after his words and massaged her tongue against the underside each time she moved her head back and forth. Severus’ hands moved behind him when he felt the tip of Eleanor’s tongue brushing under the head of his cock with a little more pressure than the rest. Several moans passed through his lips, leaning back against the arm of one of the sofas with his hands gripping onto it until his fingertips turned white. He fought the urge to move his hips in sync with Eleanor, content with the rhythm she had built already as his head remained hung back.

“Y-You are so good to me, baby,” He gasped as his cock pulsed, “That feels incredible…” His breath caught in his throat, trying his best to concentrate on the rain still pelting against the windows of the cabin so he wouldn't allow himself to give in to the pleasure too quickly, “Y-You’re such a good girl, agh…” He inhaled sharply, feeling his thighs beginning to tremble.

“I’ve been dreaming of giving you a good ‘welcome home’,” Eleanor grinned, pressing a few light kisses to the tip of his length as she pulled her head back, “With my mouth.”

“You bloody minx,” Severus lifted his head as he spoke, and he was even a little bit thankful that she had stopped devouring him with her mouth as it was so long since they had been alone like this until this weekend that he wasn't entirely sure if he could take any more of her foreplay, “Come up here to me,” He paused to soften his tone, ensuring it didn’t come across as a command, “Please.”

Eleanor began to get up, her eyes on his as she watched him lower himself, placing both of his hands on her cheeks as he gently pushed her back to her knees. Their lips pressed together desperately but tenderly, Eleanor’s hands now upon his shoulders as her face remained cupped in his, “Meet in the middle,” He smiled against her lips, “I couldn't wait any longer.”

“Pathetic.” She joked against his lips, teasingly denying him a couple of kisses.

“Don't push your luck.” He spoke in that tone; the one that sent her head spinning.

It wasn't long before the passionate kisses on their knees turned into Severus hovering his body over her, both of them keen to be horizontal as quickly as possible. Severus’ quick thinking of comfort lead him to reach for one of the blankets on the couch nearest to them, ensuring it would be laid out for Eleanor before her back touched the floor. Though the cabin was cozy and warm - especially as they lay in front of the open fire - it didn't make the floor any softer.

Eleanor laid completely flat on the floor and pulled him down with her, her arms now around him and her legs parted as an invitation for him to settle between. Severus’ thumbs repeatedly caressed her cheekbones, tongues tangling as their breathing became heavier when she felt his arousal prodding against her lower stomach. Quickly, she pushed his robe off him completely and he swiftly unbuttoned his shirt that she was wearing, dropping it to the side and resulting in them both being completely in the nude.

“Ugh, I want you…” Severus groaned against her lips as she laid back completely again, weakly pulling at her bottom lip, “Badly.” He emphasised, letting out a heavy breath against her lips.

“Take what's yours, Sev…” Eleanor whispered, tracing her nails down his back until they landed on his bottom.

Eleanor’s words made him shiver from head to toe and he slotted himself between her legs perfectly, melting into one another in one, effortless motion. The two of them met the motion with a moan, encapsulating it into a kiss as their lips touched again. Her hands against his bottom urged for him to start moving his hips, whimpering against his lips when he began.

“Oh, baby…” He spoke breathlessly between kisses, trying to brush her hair out of her face as his hips continued to move, his own beginning to fall over his already sweaty forehead, “Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, I have missed you so much.”

“Show me…” She could barely speak from the pleasure surging through her, trying to kiss him properly as their bodies moved together.

Severus broke the kiss and instead dipped his head to the side of her neck, planting kisses upon the sensitive skin with each thrust. Eleanor’s back arched in pleasure, tilting her head to the side to allow Severus’ kisses to continue with ease. One of her hands slid up his spine with her nails before delving into the hair at the nape of his neck and hooking her legs around him at the same time. Her shaking hands grasped clumsily at his hair as his lips settled at the crook of her neck, latching onto the skin this time and suckling gently as his hips continued to move.

“Ugh, Sev… Severus…” She moaned out her words, raising herself off the ground even more when she felt his tongue flicking against the same patch of skin followed by a cool breeze of air from his lips.

“Mhmm…?” Severus lifted his head, hazy eyed as he gazed down at her, “Are you okay, my darling?” He asked, and she couldn't remember ever hearing his tone so soft.

“Mm… wonderful.” She nodded and smiled contently with her eyes still closed, though opening them when she felt his eyes on hers.

“You’re beautiful,” He blurted out, hissing through his teeth briefly as his thrusts drove the pleasure for both of them, “H-Have you ever been told?”

“Shh…” Eleanor blushed - well, as much as she could blush with her already flushed cheeks, “Sex really brings out the soppiness in you.” She teased, biting her lip as she continued to gaze into his eyes.

“No, you,” He shook his head, cupping her face in both of his hands as he moved their faces closer together, “You bring out the truth in me.”

Eleanor grinned as the gap between them closed once more, one hand grasping a fistful of his hair and the other trembling up and down his back. Despite their lips being attached, it didn't stop the moans leaving their mouthes over and over again. Eleanor could feel his cock pulse with each thrust, his gasps each time only driving her more wild. The pleasure began to bubble up in her body, tightening her legs around him as she whimpered his name into his mouth.

“Severus, baby, ugh!” She shouted in pleasure, arching her back like before but also squeezing her legs around him simultaneously this time.

“O-Oh, I'm going to c…” Severus lost his breath as he felt his length twitch madly, his thumbs now trembling over her cheeks as he continued to cup her face in order to kiss her properly, “E-Eleanor!”

“Don't hold back…” Eleanor whispered shakily against his lips, “P-Promise me you won't hold back, Severus… I- I’m almost…”

Both of them struggled to form full words at this point, let alone sentences. The heat within the cabin coming from the open fire mixed with the heat between their bodies had caused the windows to steam, drips of condensation dripping down now and then. Their bodies moved together like they were made for one another; meeting repeatedly in increasing but still merciful thrusts and motions. Everything began to synchronise; the breaths they took, their moans between, their movements, the rise and fall of their chests and their heartbeats within it.

It was only moments later that their breathing changed, now holding onto each other tightly as they gave in to the overwhelming amount of pleasure that eventually erupted from them both - each caused just as much by the other. Despite the sounds of the crackling of the fire or the rain still beating against the window, it was nothing compared to the blissful noises of ecstasy coming from both Snape and Eleanor as they rode out their orgasms together, still tightly holding on to one another as if a bond they never wished to be broken and a feeling they never wanted to end.

The two of them writhed against each other in pleasure, trying to make it last as long as possible until they eventually collapsed into a panting heap on the floor. Eleanor stretched her arms up above her head, attempting to catch her breath in between the sweet kisses Severus was dotting against her forehead. He felt her hands leave his body and moved his own to meet hers, lacing their fingers together.

“Everything alright, my love?” He asked, moving one of his hands to brush her hair out of her face.

Eleanor nodded with a breathy giggle, “Everything aside from you regularly making me have to catch my breath.”

“You flatter me far too much.” Severus chuckled, squeezing her hand gently.

They laid there for a long while, breathing in each other’s afterglow musk and trying to get their breathing back to normal, also. Severus rested his forehead against Eleanor’s collarbone and closed his eyes — it was sticky with sweat, and the blazing open fire didn't help the case, but she didn't mind. In fact, she was flattered that one of the most famously grumpy men at Hogwarts felt comfortable enough to hold himself in this position, or, more to the point, that he was allowing himself to be held. Completely vulnerable.

After their lazy, worn out cuddle in front of the fire, and once they had gathered themselves enough energy to put a robe on each, they found themselves back in front of the fire, though, on the couch this time. The weather was still wild outside, but they paid it no mind. Severus was in one of the corners of the couch and Eleanor was snuggled up at the side of him, arm across his body and cheek against his shoulder.

“We have to stop having so much time apart.” Eleanor spoke softly with a quiet sigh, “Not that I don't think this weekend has somewhat made up for it.”

“I know…” Severus kissed the top of her head, “Fooling around in dingy, dark archways and sneaking a kiss between classes not doing it for you anymore, hm?” He teased.

“Oh, no, no,” She pushed open his robe and began drawing patterns against his bare chest with her finger as she gazed up at him, “Please don't stop that.”

“You are so bad.” He let out a singular laugh, winking as he looked back down at her.

“We’ll just not leave it so long next time.” Eleanor shrugged, knowing how difficult that would be with him being a Professor and herself only just starting as a Professor, but smiling at him confidently.

“Please do not think I do not enjoy the… sneaking around whilst we are within the grounds of Hogwarts, it is quite the opposite and I even confess I find it… particularly dangerous and arousing,” He swallowed hard, playing with the ends of her hair between his fingertips, “But… this, you know? Just to be alone with you… that is when I am at my happiest.”

“Sev…” Eleanor’s cheeks turned an impressive deep red and she hid her face against his chest, grinning madly, “This is not the Severus that scolds his students for not having their school shirt tucked in.”

“Look at me,” He tried not to react to her words, waiting for their eyes to meet again before he continued, “This is Severus, this is Professor Snape, this is me… happy. Because of you.”

Eleanor remained quiet for a few moments, taking in all that he had said before she responded, “You really mean it?”

‘Don’t you dare question the words of your Professor. Who do you think you are? Do you know who you are talking to?’Would have been his usual response. Eleanor, however…

“Over the last few months that we have spent time together, you have reignited something within me that I had long thought had been burned out for good,” He cupped her cheek in his large hand, lightly brushing his thumb against her plump lips, “Think of it like this; if you were wanting to create something you once remember enjoying the feeling of or something sacred, deeply personal… but think this is somewhat impossible, you also begin to believe that the ingredients are also impossible. Whether that be a feeling or potion and its components, say a hair, feather, or a flower. You have become, to me, almost as precious to me as that of a rare flower.”

“Severus…” She pressed a gentle kiss to his thumb, “All I can say is… the feeling is mutual. Very, very mutual.” She grinned, tilting her head up and kissing him softly.

“Eleanor, I want you in ways I did not even know existed.” He spoke sincerely against her lips, his eyes falling shut as he kissed her back.

“Take me, have me,” She spoke in between kisses, “In any way you please, Severus.”

“Oh, do not forget my age,” He teased, laughing against her lips, “My stamina is not what it used to be.”

“Severus!” She gasped with a loud giggle, playfully prodding his chest as the kiss broke, and joking, “No complaints from me, old man.”

Severus didn't respond this time. Instead, he let out a content sigh, leaning forward to kiss her forehead and pulling back with a genuine smile. His lips remained pressed together and Eleanor laid her cheek back against his chest, both of them enjoying the comfortable silence with the pitter patter of rain in the background.

“Are you okay?” She asked in a kind tone, squeezing her arm around him.

“Absolutely fine, darling,” Severus nodded, nuzzling his nose against her hair before pressing several kisses to the top of her head. There was silence for a few moments before he spoke again, “I’m afraid I’m falling in love with you.” He said cooly with a shocked, singular laugh from his own words.

“Y…” Eleanor lifted her head again, lips parted in shock, though also threatening a wide smile, “You’re what?”

“Sorry, allow me to… say that how I intended,” He exhaled quietly, leaning forward and resting his forehead against hers as he spoke in a soft, sincere tone, “I’m afraid. I am falling in love with you.”

-

Thank you for reading! This is my first soft Snape that I've written, so I was a little nervous 😬😂

Tags! ♥️

@vulnus-sanare @nympha-foresta @smilingformoney @sorryimdyingrn @liv2post @walkingdaddyissues @kitty-blades @blasiusramm @extra-venomous-tentacula @coco177 @jj-grm @dasnook13 @ironstrange1991 @decaffeinatedgrlie @mercuryacejonez @mm2022ll @puppi-sonnenschein @missgurlthang @girlblog2003 @msfandom22 @megladon045 @hisleastfavbrit @icytrickster17 @c-kayp @kimmyp12 @nordengaard @hazedwords @wepannaholmes @ominousminx @whats-that-puppet-boy @mija-novella @marisimps @letters4lucas @severelykinky @bibliosophie @chxelsxaa @architectofimagination @eyesinmymindinmay @gamoraaaaaa @kleinefeekaterina @georgiesgirl1223 @colorcrypt @lupinmoonlights @malfoyfanclub @my-cherie @thatweirdchristians @pxge394 @paperandlace @princesspolite24

(I'll tag everyone else in the comments! Please note: I tagged as many as Tumblr would allow, please don't take it personally if you're not tagged, it wouldn't let me tag some ☹️🫶)

[thetravelingtyper]

On The Same Page pt5 (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader Bookshop! AU)

On the way home from Price and the beach you recollect an old story...

Part 3, Part 4, Part 6, Masterlist

Warnings: None!

The road home was filled with music, a light heart, and the cleansing of rain. The storm rolled over you, rumbling with flashes of lightning sporadically lighting up the night. Lumbering hills with peaks and festering marshlands spanned alongside. One step off of the lonely road would take you to a world unlike your own. You thought deeply as you drove. Of things gone by, as the ocean disappeared, you missed home. 

You were 13 when your parents became too busy, and left alone to your own devices you stumbled upon sanctuary. In the woods, you found a fox's den, now empty of its inhabitants. But there you found a new life. A fallen log your seat, you brought your typewriter out and started recording. The breaking of sticks down your trodden path, wisps of clouds on clear days. The sounds of birds, swooping swallows with dart-like precision. The growing flora and fungi in the damp woods.

Every day you would return, after school chasing the familiar shadows of your imagination. They kept you close comfort. One day, years later, however as you approached you found the glint of orange, and to your surprise, there was a fox asleep in the den. As you turned past the corner you ended up unintentionally waking the creature, its head popping up with ears like radars. Amber eyes met yours and you both just watched each other. However the creature did not startle, so you slowly approached yards away. Setting down your jacket you sit on it and slowly open the case of your typewriter. While its ears twitch, the fox shows no motion of moving, instead content with watching you. 

Your hours were lost in the lone fox. And to your pleasure, it was there the next day, then the next week. You made it a habit to go to the den with your new acquaintance. As you met your first partner you would just talk in a soft voice to the fox, As junior college passed and your heart had been broken the fox had become something more in your brain. It was a symbol of the resilience of nature, of making the space you find yourself in yours. You finished your undergrad with the first drafts of your first book.

And as for the fox? One day you returned, set on your plan to move for your masters you had brought some meat out for the fox. Yet as you crossed the path you found the den empty for once after about two years. You frowned but left the meat anyway, vowing to return once before you left. But life got busy, saying goodbye and closing up loose ends. You vetted your life and your writing career. Stories covered your room walls, old and new. You were leaving everything you knew. A few days before you left on a brisk moment of free time you went on a whim to the den. 

As you walk you reminisce on the years spent on this path. The turned stones, the old tree house, the creek the elements of your stories light up your vision. You can hear the howling of wolves under the wind, the creaking of moving trees, the ringing of fairy voices. And yet as fantasy swirls with reality you turn the bend to find not only your friend but a few fox kits as well. You stared in all as the fox watched you with bright eyes.

“You did good.” It's a whisper not only to the fox but to yourself as all of the elements of your growing stories fade back into reality. 

A flash of lightning brought you back to reality as you parked the car in your building’s lot and prepared to face the onslaught of London rain. You sling your backpack on awkwardly in the tight space of the car and throw on your jacket over it. Street lamps flickered in wind and rain as you rushed out of the car and to the cover of the parking area. There was some wild feeling in you being exposed to the elements, just like at the ocean and when you were a kid. As you made it under cover you tilted your drenched head back and laughed into the evening. The florescent hum, there is something intently human in your heart. 

You see movement and jump. Leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette is Simon. He watches you a smile playing on his lips.

“Happy Dove?” 

The nickname has you blushing and you shove off your wet coat.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You chuckle. Simon raises a brow at your form before he puts out his cigarette. He shrugs off his jacket and holds it out for you.

“Come on I'll walk you home.” He looks at you expectantly, his body taking up a lot of the space in the hall. But as you move forward he steps aside to allow you next to him.

“Here,” He offers and you hand him your bag, he shoulders it and hands you his jacket. Slipping it on you are met with the smell of smoke and cologne. You relax into it as it engulfs you, something in SImon’s eye shining. You begin the walk under the awning together in comfortable silence. Simon cuts his stride short for you, and you give him an appreciative smile. 

His hair is slightly damp you realize then, it gives him a bit of a boyish look, water-darkened hair complementing his eyes. He looks forward, scanning the path then turning back to you.

“Were you outside long?” You ask, the cold bristling you despite your borrowed jacket.

“No. I was watching out for you.” He offers it honestly. You hum, then you set a hand on his arm without thinking too much. Simon’s eyes widen a fraction and turn down to the contact. You realize then and move to pull away with an apology but Simon offers you his elbow. You pause but you take his arm in yours. Despite only being in a long-sleeved black shirt, Simon radiates warmth and you find yourself leaning into him. He glances at you through his peripheral vision.

“Are you not cold Simon?” You ask concerned. He shakes his head, putting on your backpack fully,

“‘M fine, thanks love.” Is all he offers, seeming content with silence, but he tucks his hand into his pocket, thus pulling you closer and you find yourself silently swooning. A few more minutes pass when you reach the main street, rain still pouring but the bookstore is in sight. 

“Hold on, I've got an umbrella somewhere. I don't want you to get soaked.” 

You pull on your arm and Simon begrudgingly releases you. You dig in your backpack producing a bright orange, fox-patterned umbrella. The sight is a bit bright and contrasts with his aesthetic but Simon opens it and holds it anyway, a brow raised that makes you giggle.  Once you reach the cover of the book store you find the door unlocked so you enter followed by Simon into the warmth of the store. Simon does his best to avoid getting water everywhere but you take the bright umbrella from him with a thankful smile. 

Having heard the door Sam rounds the corner.

“You found her then huh.” Sam notices you in Simon’s jacket and his grin widens and you give him a look.

“Sammy, not a word.”

“I said nothing!” He raises his hands in mock surrender. 

“Thanks for walking her.” He adds and approaches you. Before you can escape you are locked in a headlock as Sam ruffles your hair.

“Sammy! Stop!” You push at his arms laughing. You both spend a fond moment roughhousing before you remember Simon.

“Simon at least stay for dinner till this storm lets up!” You insist, finally tapping out with Sam, he finally releases you with a kiss on your head. The older man stands on the cusp of the affection, watching. You spin back to him staring up with a pretty smile, expectant.

“Alright,” He says it intensely. It makes you pause, he sees this and shifts his weight, then nods an affirmation just as a large crash of thunder startles all of you. 

“We have a spare bedroom if you need it,” Sam checks his phone, “the rain isn’t supposed to let up until tomorrow. You best stay the night.”

The thought doesn't seem to trouble Simon too much,

“If it's not a bother.”

You clap your hands together, 

“I did owe you dinner didn’t I huh? And a sleepover is just like college Sam!” 

Your best friend looks from his painted nails to Simon, the idea seems to crack him up. Simon glowers at him. You chuckle and set a hand on Simon’s arm. 

“I met Captain Price today.”

This catches his attention, turning down to regard you as he speaks.

“He gone fishin’?”

The dry humor catches you off guard but you smile and reply,

“Something like that. He and I talked about stuff. He’s a good man Simon.”

At that Simon nods eye still tracing your hand, He raises his own to it to see your reaction. Your eyes widened at the direct contact, but you had been feeling comfortable with the man. You shoot him a shy smile and he returns it.

“It's a date then?” He asks.

Sam looks up from behind the counter eyes sharp. He meets eyes with Simon and the ex-lieutenant finds his equal in ferocity. Simon takes your hand and shares a look with Sam, a quiet conversation between them before Sam nods and starts to head upstairs, one final glance behind him at you and Simon.

“Can you lock up Buttercup?” He pauses in question.

You can only nod with an embarrassed blush on your face. Sam heads upstairs leaving you and Simon together. He seems content just holding your hand. He takes it, lifting your palm from his arm and simply grasping it in his dropping your hands down to hang. Your heart beats a little faster but you take the next step to interlace your fingers. 

“I gotta lock up Simon.” You say it with a grin but he doesn't move his hand instead gesturing to the door.

“Ill follow.” His mumbles.

You give him a humored look, swinging your hand in his. He waits a moment, releasing your hand as you step to the door, Simon following like a shadow. He reminded you of Nebula, your childhood cat. A cat of few meows but much affection and he would follow you around the house. 

You flip off the switch for the lights and the neon leaving you and Simon basked in darkness. His pale skin is illuminated by the light from the stairway behind the counter. You turn around to meet him and are caught by the glow of him with the back light. He stands like some bygone god, ever vigilant, but his eyes and hair are soft. He carries your bag looking down at you with curiosity. 

“What is it, Dove?” 

He asks you but your mind is drawn back to the wildness of the sea earlier. You liken it to Simon in your mind. Something beautiful but with the wilderness within, a man of scars and hewn edges. Someone with a stormy past. Your mind swirls with storm clouds, yet here is this man who has taken a step to attach himself to you. 

You want to reach up and touch him, like some modern adonis with honey for eyes and a deep voice. But something caught in your throat, there was so much untold in this story, this connection that it made you stumble. Who was he to step into your dreams? Instead, you step forward to meet him. You raise a hand in question, He steps forwards and meets your palm. His large hands engulf yours.

“Nothing, nothing at all.”

Taglist!

@ghostlythots, @tapioca-milktea1978, @cmbghost

End Chapter 5

Note: This was shorter than I really wanted it to be so expect 6 to be longer!

[afternoondreaming]

No Business Like Show Business (2/?)

Back at it again with the white Vans! (Does- Does anyone remember that? Am I getting too old?) Aaaanyways, we’re slowly gettin’ into it now! It began to get a bit too long, so Mr. Funny will just have to explain his shenanigans next time. Also, just letting ya’ll know, this is probably gonna be canon divergent. And I swear it’s gonna get funnier dw. You’re just a bit of a stick-in-the-mud right now.

The taxi you had hailed all the way out here skidded its tires slightly as it sped off. It had been a surprisingly long drive over to Puzzlevision— and an odd one, at that. You lived far away, and so as not to get sick, you avoided using your cell on the drive. It gave you ample time to watch the scenery, which seemed to gradually change the closer you got. Almost imperceptibly everything around you got more… Saturated. Colors showing brighter, eventually becoming almost painful to the eyes. It was reminiscent of color correction for TV, but why in the world would that be a natural effect?

You were aware that the world contained- for lack of a better phrase- an interesting cast of characters. Creatures of all shapes and sizes roaming about. You, however, lived in a painfully average area. Typical sights, typical people, and typical suburban antics. So far removed from the more fanatical aspects of life. Sure, you’d seen the occasional toad around town, but that was as exotic as it got. If even the nature around here was exceptionally strange, what would the people be like…?

That was another strange aspect you were noticing as you stood with your portfolio in the parking lot. There were no cars. No bikes. No sign of any human being inhabiting the studio that stood before you. Even the painted parking lines were noticeably faded, asphalt cracking and heaving from lack of care. You had the right address, you knew that. And you were certainly well within business hours. So where was everyone? With hesitant steps you began to walk to the entrance, fiddling with your portfolio and outfit with much more than pre-interview jitters. At the very least, you had told Tori where you were going, and your phone location was on. If you truly needed it, you could get someone to help you… Hopefully.

You let out a calming exhale before opening the door. Which quickly backfired, as the motion kicked up a huge cloud of dust. Sputtering out coughs you waved your hand in front of you to try to clear the air. Was this truly an abandoned building? As you got a better look, you became more assured of that thought. All of the furniture was dated and caked in a thick layer of dust. Though, you did notice a pair of footprints on the floor. Marking what must have been a frequently trodden path. What had you gotten yourself into? You turned heel, beginning to walk out so you could call a cab home. Suddenly your movement was halted by a heavy hand coming down on your shoulder. You couldn’t help the sound of surprise that escaped your mouth, jumping slightly and turning to see whomever it was. Slowly your gaze went up, up, up… Oh God. This man was towering! You liked to consider yourself of average height, and even then, your gaze would meet his midsection if you didn’t crane your neck.

A TV’s glow was what met your gaze, a neutral expression displayed upon it. So… He really was a television. Seeing him in interviews a couple of times, you weren’t exactly shocked. But… It was still slightly jarring in person. Everything about him but his color testing bars were in grayscale, like he stepped out of the classic silver screen. Rather fitting, you supposed. “Uh, hello? Puzzlevision to interviewee? I asked you a question.” The man ‘spoke’, if you could call it that, picture flipping to something akin to confusion.

You quickly corrected your agape expression, straightening your posture. “Oh goodness, I’m sorry. I guess I was a bit star struck…!” You laughed awkwardly, trying not to be stiff as a board. He removed his hand from your shoulder, striking a confident pose. He moved… oddly. It wasn’t fluid, but certainly exaggerated.

“Aha! Of course you were!” He looked awfully pleased with himself, yet surprised at the same time. “Your call for employment was answered by the one and only: Mr. Puzzles!” The titular Mr. Puzzles held the pose for a moment longer before returning to a neutral stance and face.

“Uh, yeah…” Mumbling, you reached out your hand for a handshake. Looks like flattery would get you pretty far here. If you didn’t hold yourself to higher standards, perhaps you’d use that to your advantage. “Still, my apologies. Lemme introduce myself, I’m-“

“Yes, yes, I know who you are, my rising star!” He interrupted you, turning around without shaking your extended hand as he began to walk. Apparently, he just expected you to follow. “I sent you a response, after all!”

“Wait-“ You started, beginning to speed walk in order to keep up with the long legged man. “I’m not a new actor…! I got a letter for the screenwriter position!” Was he getting a whole new staff?

“Again- I’ll repeat myself- I know.” Mr. Puzzles responded, his voice crackling with a flamboyant sarcasm. “I only hired a screenwriter- no actors. I just find your name lacking a certain… star power, is all!” …Had he just played a laugh track for his own joke? You found yourself frowning behind his back as you followed him. “It's terribly drab, my friend!” The man opened the door to another dusty room, gesturing for you to step inside just as you made yourself look less annoyed. “For someone like yourself? You need a title worthy of someone working at Puzzlevision~! You’ve headed multiple successful projects, but never having done so on your own. Someone with talent, but not successful enough to avoid being poached!” This was beginning to feel more insulting by the second. “Therefore! A rising star, an up-and-coming powerhouse, a starlet!”

“Now, wait a moment.” Hesitantly you spoke up as you began to sit down on the terribly dusty chair. There goes the dry cleaning fee you paid. “You’re right. I have headed multiple successful projects. But, screenwriters don’t work alone. I would’ve never done that because that’s not how it works.”

“Well, you’ll have to start now, because that’s how it works at Puzzlevision!” Mr. Puzzles sat across from you, unbothered by dust or grime as he crossed a leg and leaned one elbow on the table. “Besides having my expert guidance and leadership, Starlet, you’ll be working entirely by yourself!”

…Huh?

[hyper-lynx]

Two Cats Attend the Blue Moon Ball

Chapter 1: Dusk

Featuring @wizblr-blue-moon-ball's Lurien and @flowers-the-sun-witch, along with Hemi and Liam of course. This is the first chapter of probably several that I will make for some of the prompts. Character appearances will vary and can be removed on request!

A calm wind blew over Wizard Island Island’s coastal region, bringing a mild warmth over the old stones and dozens of pointy-hatted towers dotting the landscape. The sky was overcast, but it was clear despite this that the sun was near the horizon. The shimmering line of the ocean adorned the horizon. Along a path of well-trodden cobbles, the air bent and tore, until, with a burst of chromatic power, two felines landed onto the earth. Hemi, wreathed in the gentle fabric of his deep indigo dress, felt the lukewarm air suddenly about his legs until the dress behaved itself. The emblem of the moon was dim in the low light, but still plainly visible. Shortly behind him, Liam practically flowed out of the rift. His gown had the general design of the lunar hibiscus -- pink and, in Hemi’s opinion, somewhat bulbous, but still quite elegant. He held the corners of the dress in a way that suggested he had experience landing from a dimensional vortex in such attire. Once both cats exited the distortion, reality was quick to mend itself.

“Aha, we’re-- um.” Hemi looked around, then let his head tilt. “Where’s--”

They stood at the long-forgotten gates to a property that was seemingly completely absent. There was not a trace of any building -- in its place, an immense crater marred the landscape. The only thing that remained was a tarnished silver archway and a few mana crystals that poked out from the ground at the edges of the place.

Liam gasped. “Did something--?”

“Impossible. If something this big was -- gone, I’d have heard about it. Besides, that gate… must have been abandoned for a hundred years.” Hemi closed his eyes and tried to visualize the route on the invitation he’d been given, but he was certain it led to this general area, and there shouldn’t be any other large estate in the vicinity. Were all his days of anticipation really --

“Oh--! Hemi, look!”

Hemi opened his eyes to the sight of what looked like an angelic being descending through the clouds. He plummeted rapidly and then came to a sudden stop in the air just beyond the gate, not displacing any air or showing any discomfort in the process. An elf with radiant wings, blue into yellow, clothed in shining white silks. Despite his short stature, the elf had a golden power behind his eyes that commanded respect. The emblem of the Blue Moon shone in iridescent stone, adorning his crown.

“Greetings! Hyperlynx Hemi, I presume?” The elf spoke with a quiet tone that nonetheless carried through the emptiness. “I see you’ve found our ‘back entrance’.”

“Oh--! Um, hello, sir--?” Hemi stammered in response as both cats approached the gate.

“Lurien is fine. In any case, I’ve arranged transport for you and your partner. Please proceed through the gate.”

Hemi tilted his head to the opposite side and gazed into the spiky, terrifying chasm just beyond the rusted passage. “Um-- I ah, don’t have any flight spell active…” He glanced at Liam, who shook his head silently.

“That’s fine, sir. I assure you there are accommodations for all creatures at the Blue Moon Ball.” He looked down at some kind of brass handheld timekeeping device. “Although, I would insist you move swiftly. The event will be starting momentarily.”

Hemi huffed softly and looked to Liam, who took the lead. Liam gathered his gown about his feet and cautiously stepped through the gate. He half expected the world to suddenly burst into light and color around him, but no such thing happened. Instead, his foot met with a soft resistance, an invisible surface. It felt a bit like walking across a mattress. Seeing the leopard defy gravity, Hemi followed suit.

“Impressive spell, but where is--” Hemi was cut off when the platform was suddenly thrust skyward. The earth fell away, and waves of amber light emanated from the invisible surface above them as it blocked the wind. Lucien cracked a soft smile -- the emblem across his chest shimmered softly as the three beings were brought up. Even the clouds broke around the barrier above them, until--!

The sun, from its place ever-lower on the horizon, lavished golden light across a wondrous skyscape. A great layer of clouds the size of mountains formed the base, speckled with tiny sections of floating stone -- likely pieces of distant floating islands that came in the wind across the sea. Beyond the shelf of clouds, the light glinted on the water. Above it all, though, a grand estate was situated. The main island consisted of an immense floating mansion. In a way, it was almost more like a town  -- the lower section was something of a hull, with docking ports for flying ships and tiered gardens protruding from openings in its sides. Atop, the mansion sprawled across a massive expanse of once-natural earth, with what must have been hundreds of rooms and halls. Near the center, the peak of a wizard’s tower wis visible, adorned with the same lunar emblem.

Lucien watched the two cats take it all in as he platform moved in a grand circuit through the air above the venue. “Sunset really is wonderful at this altitude, isn’t it?” He noted. The light cast off everything, and the shadow of the floating manor lengthened forever across the clouds. Hemi took a moment to glance down at Liam, whose eyes were literally wide with wonder. 

Their dutiful invisible chariot let them down in the plaza just before the main gates. It seemed nearly everyone else was already somewhere inside, since this courtyard was otherwise occupied only by a trio of gnomes who seemed to pay the cat-men no mind. Lucien directed their attention to a statue of a human woman, depicted 20 feet tall in marble stricken with veins of some shimmering blue mineral. Water flowed from small slots below the woman’s feet into small channels that fed this section of the gardens.

“This is the original owner of the manor, Mistress Areth Lunacai. It’s said she discovered the arcane properties of lunar sapphire, and therefore mastered the art of permanent levitation. In her time, her genius was not recognized, so she wrested her family’s estate into the skies, where it still remains.”

“Wow…” Liam looked up at her. Hemi, however, was already distracted by looking at the venue itself. As the light of dusk began to fade, Hemi crossed his arms over his chest.

“Lucien, sir?” He interjected. “Are we late for-- anything?”

Lucien raised an eyebrow. “You accuse me of being late to my own ball?”

“Um--! Well, no, I--”

The host smiled. “No, it’s understandable. You are actually somewhat early. While most attendees have made their way to the main hall and its waiting rooms, the formal schedule will not commence for half an hour at minimum. Plenty of time, no?” Hemi nodded and looked to the side. He thanked the gods for the impenetrably thick fur that hid his now-red cheeks from view, then took a deep breath. There was no great rush. This was an event for fun, after all. The sleepless night before preparing… the weeks of anticipation… It all led to this night, where everything was arranged for him. He walked closer beside Liam.

Lurien turned over his shoulder, towards a figure in a blue dress who had appeared amidst the gardens. “Ah, I see a new guest has arrived. Excuse me.” Lucien bowed and began to gracefully stride towards the newcomer.

“Hey Hemi, do you want to go meet them? The person over there, I mean?”

Hemi looked to the newcomer, then back at the red wisps of frozen clouds high above. “I think I’ll watch the sunset for now. You go ahead -- we’re all going to the main hall anyway, right?”

Liam nodded and followed Lurien’s path through the gardens as quickly as he could without letting any dirt get on his outfit. By the time he arrived, the host was already leading the other person back up a scenic route along the terrain’s edge towards the fountain. Their long brown hair -- adorned with red flowers -- was tied into a set of four pigtails that dangled about elven ears and onto the shoulders of a truly cute blue dress, tied with a red belt bearing a once-live sunflower. They looked up at the approaching beastman with only momentary confusion. Lucien, without even looking in Liam’s direction, nodded. 

“I’ll allow you two a moment to become acquainted. There’s a matter I’ll need to attend to.” Lucien announced. A moment later, a great eagle flew dangerously close to the edge of the island and began circling the courtyard. Lucien sighed and, with a subtle movement of his wings, lifted off to redirect the bird’s rider.

“Oh gosh!” The witch put a hand against her mouth and giggled.

Liam shook his head. “Some people…” He turned his attention back to the immediate environs. “Well-- ah, greetings!” Liam gave a curtsy. “My name’s Liam.”

The witch returned the favor. “I’m Flowers, the Sun Witch. It’s nice to meet you! I like your dress.”

“Thank you~!” Liam twirled around a little. “Yours is very cute.”

The witch smiled, but didn’t reply verbally. The two watched for a moment as the now distant eagle followed Lucien -- from this range, a point of light -- towards the arcane beast stables on the lower levels. “I’ve not seen a dress of that style in a while. Lunar hibiscus, right?” Liam’s head tilted slightly. “How did you--”

“I don’t call myself ‘Flowers’ for no reason. The color’s pretty accurate, too. Though, those flowers are pretty rare on the island…”

“Ah, I’m not actually from here. I’m not even properly a wizard -- that title belongs to my partner. I’m his plus-one.”

“Oh!” Flowers looked along the rim of the floating landmass. “Is that him?” She pointed out Hemi, sitting alone on an outcropping, watching the redness leave the sky as night took over.

“Yeah…” Liam put his hand behind his head. “He’s a little shy. I’m sure he’ll warm up when things kick off.”

“Flowers nodded, then tapped her foot. “I hope the host is back soon… I hope everything’s alright with the bird situation.”

As if on cue, on a beam of light, Lucien appeared next to the two guests. “I apologize for the wait, Mx. Flowers. I hope you’ll forgive  my cutting your tour short for the moment, as the floor will open momentarily. I suggest you both make your way to the main hall and meet some more of the guests in the meantime.”

“Ah-! Of course, thank you.” Flowers began to walk down the garden path towards Hemi. Lucien, apparently satisfied, vanished into light.

“Um--” Liam trotted after her surprisingly quick gait. “The fastest path is to the right.”

“We need to collect your partner, don’t we?” The sun witch glanced back at him. “Besides, I need to compliment his dress, too.”

By the time they arrived, the sun had completely set, so Hemi was just staring off into the swirling expanse of the clouds below. His ears were somewhat askew-- when Liam approached, they swiveled to face him.

“Hey, we’re supposed to go inside soon.” Liam let a gentleness into his tone.

Hemi stretched and stood. He used a quick gesture to disconnect the dirt from his dress’ fabric, so it became fully clean in an instant. When he turned around, he started at the sight of the witch who accompanied Liam.

“Oh--! Um--” Hemi gave a clumsy bow. “Hello-- I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you.”

The witch extended her hand. “I’m Flowers. What’s your name?”

“...Hemi.” He said, and shook her hand with his paw. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well. I like your dress~!” She told him. Hemi’s ears flipped, but he smiled in response.

A latch sounded at the main door. “Ah, it seems it’s time to enter. Have a wonderful time, you two--!” Flowers curtseyed again, and was off.

Liam looked at Hemi with a soft grin..

“What? I was surprised…”

“Nothing, nothing.” He took Hemi’s hand. “Another adventure, right?”

“--Right.”

The two cats proceeded towards the gathering group of wizards and the great oaken doors. The blue moon shone bright overhead.

[luxe-pauvre]

I’m curious, since you’re pursuing a PhD in the field of neuroscience, what are your thoughts on Andrew Huberman and his podcast?

Ah, Huberman. The most discussed man in neuroscience related labs world over.

I listened to the first ten or so episodes when it started and I (perhaps naively) thought we finally had a really solid neuroscience communicator: he was good at staying within his area of expertise and acknowledging when he strayed outside of it, really good at explaining studies and how to weight different types of study design, and was broadly giving evidence-based advice with caveats when the current literature was mixed. I'm not a regular podcast listener and have only caught the odd one that's talked about around me since then, but the consensus in the labs I work in is the wheels are coming off the car: he's cherrypicking evidence and now seems to deliberately misrepresent data from poorly designed and powered studies, he lacks skepticism and is not great at explaining debates within the literature that don't support this philosophy on whatever facet of "wellness" he's talking about, and has become a snake oil salesman of some very expensive and very useless products that are not remotely evidence backed.

He's massively over-reaching his expertise which is frustrating because there probably are still some perfectly good episodes with excellent guests in there somewhere, but now it's too hard to tell what and who is legitimate if you're not highly knowledgable about the topic yourself which reduces the legitimacy of the whole thing.

While in his field he is clearly a very well respected researcher, and I think he started his podcast with the best of intentions, he is crossing the rubicon to bro-science guru podcaster. Time will tell if he completes the well trodden path to reach alt-right manosphere nutcase. What Stanford will do if that happens, given that he so heavily reminds everyone of his association with the place, I do not know.

[meluiloth]

I saw your post regarding Silvan Elves and Mirkwood. Curious as to your thoughts on where most reside, rest their heads...Do they have a place within the Elvenking's Halls or do they mostly conduct themselves outside of the Halls? I have opinions but am curious to see what others think. TY!!

This is a really great question!

During the Third Age, when the Necromancer became a prime threat and the Silvan Elves were forced to move northward, the Elvenking Thranduil built his Kingdom in the Mountains of Mirkwood. This provided a lot more stability and relief for the Elves, since this was the last pocket of Mirkwood that no evil could—or would—breach. Since they had the protection of the mountain, and the acceptance that they wouldn't be able to rebuild their old homes in the South, the Elves poured their entire concentration into making the mountain as beautiful a home as they could. Despite being underground, the halls are luxurious and filled with trees to remind those who dwell within of the forest outside, and there are plenty of places for feasting and celebration. Interiors are beautifully furnished.

That being said, I don't believe that all of the Silvan Elves live in the subterranean halls—their hearts still love the forest above all, and many of them still remember the beauty of their former homes. These Elves choose to build a community outside of the mountain, still within a concentrated safe area within the borders of the Elvenking's Halls, but in areas that are still wholly woods. These dwellings are constructed high in the trees, to protect from Spider ambushes, Orc attacks, and whatever other evil creatures that would seek to harm the Elves. They are sturdy, but elegant, and also incredibly well-hidden. These houses act both as homes and watchtowers.

These two districts—the Halls of the Elvenking and the last Woodland City—are not quite two separate entities, but rather a tightly-woven community. The bridge between the mountain city and the forest one is well-trodden, since the Elves love to connect with both regions for both the scenery, people, vendors, and resources. As Thranduil and his house dwells in the mountain halls, most of the official business is conducted there, but in peaceful days, many of the celebrations are held in the forest, where the Elves can be more connected to the beating heart of Mirkwood.

In times of peace, this allows for the exchange of trade, knowledge, and communal festivities. But during times of conflict, these two communities serve a more strategic purpose: the sentinels of the Woodland City would be able to see danger before it attacks, and if it is too great, all the Elves would retreat to the Halls of the Elvenking for protection.

So, to answer your question, the population of Silvan Elves is pretty much evenly split between the Halls of the Elvenking and the city on the borders of the forest, but they are still one tightly-woven community!

If you're interested in my imagining of the Silvan Elves in Mirkwood, check out my mirkwood headcanons tag! If there's a headcanon you want me to explore that I haven't already, my ask box is open!

[mixelation]

How much did seeing his parents again in reborn au fucked up Itachi?

SO much <3

“I’ll catch up,” Tori said to Deidara before abruptly changing direction and making a beeline for Itachi. 

Itachi paused to wait for her. The Uchiha compound was in the opposite direction of the genin dorms and the Hokage’s home, and so he usually took the back entrance of their regular training ground. He stopped only a few paces from the gate, and the grass in this area wasn’t trodden down from the constant passage of feet over it. He watched Tori stomp through the tall grass towards him with all the gracelessness of a civilian, and several grasshoppers fled from her in terror. 

Funny how she still did that. He knew she could run like a shinobi if she wanted. Well, a beginner shinobi, at least. 

She stopped in front of him, squinting at his face in the sun. A loose curl was stuck to her cheek with sweat. She was as tall at thirteen as she would be as an adult, which meant they were at eye level to each other. 

“Are you, like…” Tori paused, shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot. “Are you okay, Itachi?”

She squinted at him some more. The sun was strong today. 

“Of course,” Itachi replied. She was the one who crawled away from every training session winded and upset. Genin training was a breeze for someone like Itachi. “Why?”

Tori averted her gaze like she was embarrassed, but Itachi noted she also checked that Kushina-sensei and Deidara had completely vacated the grounds and the next team hadn’t shown up yet. It was just them and the grasshoppers. 

“I just realized…” Tori pulled awkwardly at the hem of her shirt. “How’s it with… your family…?”

“Ah.” Itachi tilted his head back in understanding. How convenient for Tori to suddenly remember that.

He didn’t want to answer her, his old paranoia rekindling at the back of his mind. His gut instinct was to lie and redirect. Maybe use genjutsu as a distraction. But Tori was the only person on earth he’d ever be able to talk to about this, wasn’t she? And Tori was a lot of things, but she wasn’t his enemy. 

“It’s been an adjustment,” he decided on.  He still tasted bile on his tongue every time his father said That’s my son! but Tori didn’t need to know that. “But I’m okay. Thank you.”

“Oh, good,” Tori replied, still awkward. She attempted a very stiff smile for him. Tori had a very expressive face, which often gave off the impression that her mind was an open book. Itachi knew better, but he also couldn’t fathom this conversation was any less unpleasant for her than it was for him. 

Then she asked, “And Sasuke?”

Itachi allowed her a small smile. “Waiting to practice shuriken at home.”

This time Tori’s smile seemed more genuine. The degree to which she understood this part of him was both a relief and a constant source of anxiety. 

“I won’t keep you waiting, then,” she said, taking a half-step back like she meant to leave. She paused again and added, “But let me know if you need help with… stuff. The rhizosphere, or whatever.”

The rhizosphere? Itachi wondered as Tori marched back across the training ground. Ah, ROOT. 

Sasuke was already home when Itachi got there, just arrived from the Academy and still unpacking his backpack. Itachi picked up his planner and flipped through it while Sasuke dutifully brought his empty bento to the sink. Did Academy students really learn this slow…?

The rule was that Sasuke had to do his written homework before any type of training, and he informed Itachi with imploring eyes that he had to write a whole report, and couldn’t they just do a couple shuriken throws first?

“We have to respect Father’s rules,” Itachi told him sternly. Then he let Sasuke take his whole backpack with him into their private training ground behind the house, because Mikoto was in the house and Itachi could not bear to actually see his parents a second longer than necessary. It was one reason he’d let his parents push him into ANBU again, even earlier than before, and why he’d forced his way through the ranks. 

The other reason was that ANBU captains could pick their own schedule. He’d been able to banish himself from the house when he needed to, but he’d also had time to set up a make-shift desk at their training ground by balancing planks of wood across two boulders. It was in the shade of a tree, with a tarp they could pull in case of rain. 

Sasuke still needled Itachi a few more times to do shuriken training, but he took out the notes he had for his report even as he begged. 

In his previous life, Itachi had not bothered to sit with Sasuke for such menial tasks. He’d been a fool. The tiny, unimportant memories would be the ones that kept him moving when his lungs were burning and his visions was completely shot. 

They didn’t get around to the shuriken before Mikoto called them for dinner. Sasuke pouted as they shared the bathroom sink to wash their hands. 

“Look on the bright side,” Itachi told him. “If it took you this long, it means the other students won’t finish in one night. Your sensei will give them all another day, and we can do whatever we want tomorrow.”

This happened with about half of the reports and essays Sasuke was assigned. Itachi would blame the teacher, but he still didn’t completely understand why it took Sasuke so long to write a single page. He was at a complete loss for what other students could possibly be doing. 

Dinner was as awful as always. Itachi put on his polite face and answered his parent’s questions exactly correctly. The food tasted like ash. He’d stopped imagining his parents’ bodies at his feet every time he looked at meat, at least. 

His parents had some banal conversation about how a flood had made strawberry prices skyrocket, and Itachi distracted himself by wondering if Kushina was at home watching her son write the report the way Itachi had watched Sasuke. Based on Sasuke’s comments about Naruto’s work ethic, Itachi suspected that Hokage-sama was the rule-enforcer of the two. 

He wondered if one could map Naruto’s late assignments to peaks in mission demand…

Sasuke kicked him under the table. “What’s so funny?” he whispered. 

“Nothing,” Itachi whispered back, staring down into his now empty rice bowl. He’d completely forgotten the details of this pattern when he’d been in Akatsuki, and he still sometimes got pangs of nostalgia when he looked at it. It was one of the few places he could look in his house and feel nostalgia that didn’t hurt. 

After dinner, Itachi sat on his bed and pondered the conversation he’d had with Tori. 

The truth was, he didn’t know if Danzo and ROOT were a threat in this timeline. ANBU had let him flee his home for weeks at a time when he felt at his worst, but he’d been around enough to hear an occasional grumble about how Uchiha were being passed over or disrespected. But all clans had minor complaints like this, and it wasn’t nearly as bad as before. His parents and the Hokage were friends. They’d had them over for dinner, even. Sasuke had given Naruto a bloody nose during a sparring match the previous week and Yondaime-sama had congratulated Mikoto when they’d gone to pick up their sons. 

If the conflict that provoked the massacre were still brewing, it wasn’t going to come from the new Hokage, and it wasn’t going to come from Itachi’s parents. But that didn’t mean nothing was brewing, and Itachi’s only real ear to the ground was his own ANBU gossip and Shisui, and Shisui didn’t even know what he was supposed to be listening for. ROOT was smaller than before as far as Itachi understood, but it was still lurking in Konoha’s shadows. 

The paranoia was back, making his skin crawl. The date of the original massacre was in three months, and the closer they got to it, the more often Itachi would randomly feel like peeling his own skin off. He’d purposefully decorated his room differently than before, but in his mind’s eye he watched the room rearrange itself. The bed moved to the other wall; the desk moved under the window; the rug switched out for the original; blood splattered the floor; his father’s head rolled down the hall and Sasuke’s screams filled the house… 

Itachi took a deep breath. 

Maybe he should talk to Tori. Not about his increasing number of intrusive thoughts, of course. That would be silly. But as mediocre as she was at combat, Tori had a lot of skills and insider information that could be useful, if she was willing to give it. Itachi was unsure how much he could ask from her, but even if Tori still hated him, she certainly loved sticking her fingers into things. 

Plus, without ANBU, Itachi had no excuse not to come home every single night. A few team dinners would be an excuse even his parents would accept. 

[tiddygame]

Ghoap god type au part 9!

Ao3 /// part 1 /// part 2 /// part 3 /// part 4 /// part 5 /// part 6 /// part 7 /// part 8 /// part 9

aphantasia whooped my ass trying to write this chapter, so for clarity's sake, the fort in this chapter is an almost complete rip-off of Murex Fort from Assassin's Creed: Odyssey with only some small adjustments (i.e. the snowy mountain, added stone walls, and size with my version being bigger than what you see in the game) and the upper part of Pharsalos Fort. It is painfully obvious to me that I copied these forts, and even if the plagiarism doesn't come across in the story, it would feel disingenuous to try to imply that I came up with the layout all on my own so I wanted to give credit where credit is due.

@imjustheretofightforlove / @pieckyghost / @life-as-a-gamergirl

...

The fort was significantly bigger than Ghost was expecting.

It wasn’t one of the temporary encampments he was used to; It had proper walls made of brick, towers that provided ample view of the surrounding area, and long banners that draped down the walls with the kingdom’s symbol emblazoned proudly across them.

The fort was built into the base of a mountain and he could see the tops of some buildings that trailed up the incline poking out from the high walls. The snow that had piled against the bricks only served to make it look grander, a sign that the fort had been standing there for many winters and would continue to do so for many more to come.

It was an impressive structure but the fact that Ghost was able to get as close as he did was concerning. The walls were built to house hundreds upon hundreds of soldiers and yet he stood at the open front gate, unimpeded. 

He was fully equipped with several weapons on display and his armor clearly denoting him as an enemy soldier sat atop a war horse. He should have at the very least been stopped, if not openly fired upon.

Ghost advanced slowly, waiting for someone to finally notice him and raise an alarm or light a brazier. Yet he stood in the entrance and wondered if he was too late. 

The plans he had copied made mention of weak spots that could be targeted and gaps in defenses that could be exploited but there he was, right inside an enemy fort having used the front door.

The interior was oblong, carrying on further to his right but quickly cut off on the left by a cliff face, upon which were some of those buildings he saw outside. At the base of the cliff were hastily assembled canopies doing a poor job at protecting the crates of supplies housed underneath them.

On his right, the area was partitioned by another wall of stone, this one man made, with an entryway that led to the rest of the fort. With the angle he had, he could only see more snow and stone walls beyond the door.

There were a few signs of life; There was a small path carved through trodden snow leading to the supplies and he could hear fires crackling and people hurrying about on the other side of the interior wall. 

But something was wrong. Even the small, temporary camps he was used to had better guarding than this.

He had stopped Taxes right after the gate, unable to move forward. His paranoia was getting the better of him, but everything just felt so wrong that he couldn’t take one more step. 

Not that Taxes would have allowed that. She was nervous as well, sensing her rider’s worry. She stomped and snorted in place, making it known that she did not want to stay there.

Ghost dismounted; He was worried about what would happen if she was caught in the crosshairs of a surprise attack. Ghost walked slowly and quietly towards the doorway to the right, leading Taxes behind him as he itched to grab his weapon. 

Still, he carried on with only her reins in his hand.

His suspicion that the inhabitants of the fort were beyond that wall was correct. There were several campfires dotted around the middle area with soldiers huddled around them for warmth.

Most of the tents and buildings seemed to be occupied by others in need of medical care, medics and healthy, uninjured soldiers rushing in and out of tents. As he watched, the people around the campfires would tap in and out with those working, a rotation to assumedly make sure no one exhausted themselves or got too cold.

It was only then that he realized that the walls of the fort were fully hollow, presumably all the way around, as people carried supplies to yet more medics within the walls. 

It seemed that what was once a formidable military fort was now an impromptu emergency medical center. Ghost blamed Soap for the pang of sympathy that struck him and nestled into his chest.

He wondered if the general knew he was planning to attack the sick and wounded. Wondered if he would care. He thought back to the soldiers’ sleeping faces. Perhaps not. 

Ghost’s rumination was interrupted when someone finally, finally, noticed him. 

They shouted orders and very quickly there was a wall of people blocking him from continuing further, their spears drawn and hastily grabbed shields raised. He made no move to draw his weapon but did not raise his hands in surrender.

Taxes pulled against the reins once but remained calm. Ghost was sure that standing in the dark shadow of the doorway, they made for a rather intimidating sight. He was just glad they didn’t immediately attack, but it did raise concern about their proficiency as soldiers.

Not openly attacking was the correct decision in this incredibly specific scenario, but they had no reason to know that. Ghost was glad that he didn’t have another arrow in his chest, but if these were the people he needed to win the war, then things were going to be even more difficult than he thought.

A man emerged from the hollowed walls and immediately made his presence known with a shout. “What the hell is going on?”

The man didn’t need to push his way to the front of the blockade as they parted for him; Clearly he had some level of power and/or respect here. He carried himself as a man in charge, but the emblem on his tunic called him captain.

“Who are you?” the captain demanded, enough authority in his voice to be mistaken for a much higher rank. He had significantly less protection against the cold than those around him, wearing only long sleeves and an ugly hat with no coat in sight.

“Where is your commander?” Ghost asked, even though he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

“You aren’t answering my question.” He said it with enough power that it came off as a threat without any promise of violence having been muttered.

Ghost ignored him again. “Where is he?”

The captain let out a humorless laugh that made the hair on the back of Ghost’s neck stand up. “I’m afraid someone has already poached your contract. He died two weeks ago.”

“I am not a mercenary,” Ghost stated with much more conviction than he felt. The man had an aura of power that made Ghost loathe being on the receiving end of his ire.

“An assassin, then. Either way, he’s dead,” the captain paused and let the statement linger, “If you’re after the person in charge, that’d be me. But I would not suggest attempting that — I’m afraid you’re outmanned.” He said it with a huff of air, like Ghost killing him was a bad joke at best.

“I am not here to kill you,” Ghost corrected even though he knew it wouldn’t change anything.

The captain retorted quickly, “And snow is yellow.” 

(It was certainly the most creative way he’d been called a piss-poor liar.)

“I came here to offer information,” Ghost said flatly, wishing he got tips from Soap on how to be personable. 

There was a small amount of movement to his left, but he couldn’t afford to take his eyes off of the captain. One errant twitch of Ghost’s fingers and he’d be dead. He wasn’t stupid enough to think he could survive seven spears pointed right at him.

“Oh, did you now?” the captain laughed, this time something closer to real but just as alarming as before. Laughed like Ghost was a naive child with no idea about how the real world worked. It made him more unsettled than offended.

He plainly answered, “Yes.” 

There was a long pause, the silence filled by the wind wailing around the mountain, enraged at the walls of the fortress for preventing it from wreaking havoc on the people within.

A new voice cut in. “Uhm, I—”

Their voice was quiet but as soon as they spoke, both Ghost and the captain turned to see who dared to interrupt the verbal struggle between them. The person the voice belonged to shrunk back when their attention snapped to them, their sentence cutting off. They had a crutch under one arm and a person under the other, who looked nervous for them as they glanced between the two parties.

It… was the kid. Deja-vu washed over him at the way the kid cowered, flashing back to the medic on the brink of death he had found dying in the woods. 

…And clearly Ghost failed to help them. 

Their leg had been amputated. 

Above the knee amputation; An aggressive procedure that was avoided as much as possible with many complications spawning from it, not just with the immediate infection risk but the pain as well. 

Ghost… Ghost could have killed the kid in battle and he would have felt remorse, but not guilt. Yet now, he watched the kid lean on their friend for support as their wooden crutch slid against the icy stone and he felt nothing but reproach for his own cruelty.

He looked back up at the kid who somehow looked more panicked when their eyes met his, quickly turning away and staring at the ground beneath them with shifting eyes. Ghost was consumed by a level of contrition he had thought himself no longer capable of feeling.

He had killed gods-alone-know-how-many people yet it was the first time he had left someone permanently disabled— 

No.

It was the first time he had seen his own actions directly lead to someone being permanently disabled. Ghost would never know how many times this story had been repeated before with his callousness being the cause.

“I— I have something I need to s-say,” they said, stumbling over their words so much that it took a moment to understand them. Ghost wondered if his presence alone was enough to push the kid to the brink of a panic attack. 

It, for whatever reason, almost made him feel worse than causing the kid’s leg to be cut off.

The captain’s voice softened as he addressed them, “Son, now is not—”

“NO!” they shouted, shifting as they almost lost their balance, “Or, no, I’m sorry— I…”

“Breathe, son.” The captain was kind yet commanding and the kid listened.

It was obvious that he was much more used to leading on a smaller scale, a scale where he leveled with those under him, treated them as people and not soldiers. No self-respecting commanding officer would refer to an underling as ‘son.’

Either way, they followed the order, taking a shaky breath. “I… think you should listen to him.” The kid stared at the general as they said it, voice shaky but opinion firm.

It wasn’t what Ghost was expecting at all. He thought it was going to be a request to get the first hit in.

The captain sighed at the request and was about to refute it but the kid pushed on. “He… he was the one who— who carried me out of the woods. He was the one that got me to the doctor. I’d— he—”

The kid took a breath, trying to formulate a passable argument around the panic overtaking their mind. “He didn’t have to save me, but he did.”

Their mouth moved like they didn’t want to leave it there, but no noise came out. Having said their piece (or as much of it as they could get out), the kid looked between Ghost and the captain before staring holes in the ground.

The captain looked at the kid with that sympathetic look before pinning Ghost under one that was much more threatening as he considered what the kid had said. 

“Is that true?”

Based on the way he asked it, Ghost could tell that he was already coming to terms with having to give Ghost the benefit of the doubt.

“Yes,” he said, only just leaving out the ‘sir’ that wanted to follow it. Just because the man carried himself with authority didn’t mean Ghost had to treat him as an authority figure.

The captain dropped his shoulders and pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily. He waved a hand at the soldiers to stand down and return to their posts. Some of them gave him questioning looks, but they all soon quickly returned to their prior routine.

The kid looked up at that, a grateful expression taking over the anxiety riddled one.

“Drop off your weapons and horse,” the captain said, pointing to a spot to his right with an empty hitching post. “Then follow me.”

Ghost gave no verbal confirmation or even a nod, just quietly followed where he had pointed and loosely tied Taxes’s reins around the post. He didn’t think they were stupid enough to try to do anything bad to his horse, but he wanted to make sure the knot was loose enough that she could pull free if they did.

He laid his smallsword and halberd against the wall and hesitated before dropping his bag as well. He busied himself with nothing in particular as he watched the kid out of the corner of his eye. The captain was having a word with them, gently advising something while the kid obviously protested whatever the advice was.

When they were done, the captain dismissed them and stood at the base of a staircase that led to a path atop the stone walls as he watched Ghost. Ghost gave Taxes an apple and made a point not to rush just because the man was waiting on him. 

When Ghost approached, the captain looked at the two arms he had deposited. They both knew that Ghost was still equipped with whatever weapons he had hidden, but the captain nodded and led him up the stairs regardless.

The top of the walls provided a path to the buildings Ghost had seen on top of the cliff at the entrance. The overview of the fort showed a grim picture, the entrance vacant and covered in snow while the other side had people constantly rushing around to prevent the sick and injured from getting worse.

Ghost was tempted to tell the captain that he needed to post guards at the entrance, but he had a feeling the man already knew that. They walked in silence, Ghost taking in the landscape with the higher viewpoint. 

He was sure that if he had a warm fire, he’d find the grand, snowy vistas charming. Instead, with the echoes of the rushed medics and freezing soldiers behind him, it looked like a siren’s song, like it was begging some poor, naive soul to fall victim to its promised eternal slumber.

The ice made the winding passage tricky; there was no footpath worn into the snow. Wherever the captain was leading him, neither he nor any of his soldiers had been in a long time. 

Part of him was curious if the captain was just taking him up there to kill him away from the prying eyes of the rest of the fort.

The walkway led to yet another, albeit shorter, staircase, this one ending on a man made landing carved into the rock. Up on the cliff, the walls weren’t able to protect them from the wind and his cloak whipped to the side; The captain remained unaffected.

Ghost didn’t know what purpose the two buildings served, only that they both looked fairly similar. He was led past the first one and glancing through the frosted windows, it was dark, but it looked like it had at one point been a storeroom that had since been emptied.

The captain stopped at the second building’s door, pulling out a key and unlocking it, though frowning when it didn’t open. He braced himself against the door, taking four attempts to shove it open. He carried on inside as if it was normal.

Ghost followed. The inside was just as dark as he expected, the only light to illuminate the dusty interior falling in through boarded and dirtied windows. The open door made the wind echo loudly inside the room, the noise seemingly magnifying as it crashed against the walls. 

The other had gone further in, lighting a lantern and doing something in the dim light. Even though he knew how likely it was for everything to have been a setup for an ambush, he closed the door, shutting out most of the noise.

He took several more attempts to close it than the captain had to open it, with Ghost fighting against the wind for the handle to latch. By the time he turned around, the captain had lit a fire in a fireplace he’d failed to notice in the darkness. 

Ghost watched as he broke an old, brittled chair into pieces and tossed them on the fire. Now with more light, he set the lantern on a table in the middle of the room. It must have been some kind of war room or headquarters that had gone abandoned for one reason or another.

The captain dusted off one of the old (but thankfully not brittle) chairs and set it at the table, gesturing for Ghost to do the same. He was not sure why he did; Any other scenario and he would have stayed standing out of spite.

Still, they sat at the meeting table directly across from one another. Ghost sat down without taking his eyes off of the captain, subconsciously checking that the book was still in his pocket.

Once settled, the man across from him appraised him before sticking out his hand. He introduced himself, “Captain John Price.”

Ghost appraised him as well. His other hand was flat on the table, not hiding any weapon just out of sight. He followed the display of trust without having to think about it, shaking hands as he reciprocated, “Ghost.”

“So I’ve heard. Why are you here?” the Captain asked, maintaining the firm tone that told Ghost that the man sitting across from him was not intimidated.

“I have information,” he repeated.

“What’s with the sudden change of heart?”

“Grew a conscience,” Ghost lied dryly. He pulled the book from his pocket, showing clearly that it wasn’t a weapon, and slid it across the table. “Page 73.”

The Captain gave him a skeptical look but followed along, making no secret of glancing back up to keep an eye on Ghost as he flipped through the book. His eyebrows raised as he assumedly reached the page.

The inner margins were full of information, writing that appeared to be nothing more than random scribbles until you looked close enough to actually read the messy scrawl. 

It was an entire war’s worth of information crammed across a handful of page’s margins; Detailed plans of attack, possible weak points, and entire dossiers on each commanding officer’s strengths and weaknesses that he’d observed over the years.

He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t cathartic to write out the general’s every failure and how to exploit them, even with the guilt hanging over him like a noose. From page 73 to 79, he doomed the man who had previously been his savior.

After skimming over everything, the Captain folded the page to mark it and closed the book. “And how do I know I can trust you?”

It was probably more rhetorical than anything; Whether he meant it or not, marking the page showed he had enough trust in Ghost’s information to want to come back to it.

“You don’t,” Ghost answered honestly, “It depends on which risk you’re more willing to take.”

On the journey, he’d had a lot of time to think and the question of trust was one he had asked himself and found he had no answer for. Anything that could be a sign of honesty was too easy to turn back around with an explanation that still left Ghost without an alibi.

(After leaving the cabin, part of him had considered turning around. Riding back to camp and removing the general’s head. Wrapping it in cloth and hanging it from his bag. Showing it off as a proof of trust. Tossing the decapitated head to the man in charge to see how he’d dispute that. 

He wasn’t as appalled at the idea as he should have been.)

“I’ve heard of you,” the Captain said after an agonizing pause, “Not good things, but I have heard of you.” 

Ghost didn’t back down from his piercing gaze even as he dreaded wherever this was going.

“I think there’s more to it,” the Captain finished. Ghost waited for more, but that was it.

The Captain was trying to say as little as possible while prompting Ghost to spill everything — A good tactic that probably would have worked on anyone other than Ghost.

Unfortunately for the Captain, he had long ago perfected the art of only answering exactly what was asked and nothing more. What felt like a lifetime ago, it had forced a quick-tempered father to word his demands very carefully and, more recently, forced an ill-mannered general to overthink every order he gave.

With no question asked, Ghost remained silent. It went on for several minutes, Ghost waiting to see how long the Captain could remain stoic before he broke and asked another question.

Six and a half minutes passed (yes he counted, what else was he supposed to do for almost seven minutes?) before the Captain sighed and rubbed his face, exhaustion now firmly on display.

Before he spoke, Ghost knew what was going to happen now. The intimidation hadn’t worked, so the Captain was going to switch to a more human approach. But with the way he held his head in his hands and, for just a moment and no longer, let his guard down, Ghost again wondered how much of it was a ploy by a cunning officer and how much was an exhausted man unable to rest.

The Captain sat up in his chair and put his elbows on the table, crossing his hands and holding them in front of his mouth in the mimicry of a prayer. He let his head rest against them a moment before seemingly finding the strength to lift his head and speak. 

“I’m going to level with you, Ghost.”

(Ghost had a small smile that was unnoticeable behind his mask at correctly pinpointing what the Captain was going to do next.)

“I’ve had about three promotions in the past five months, I’m holding onto the title of captain out of stubbornness. The sick and injured were sent here as a temporary solution to a lack of medics, but now they outweigh the healthy troops,” the Captain partially mumbled the last part as he looked out the window, like he got caught up in doing calculations on just how screwed they were.

So Ghost was right — a fortress turned into a medical center. He had a feeling that was a decision made three promotions ago and that no one in charge stayed alive long enough to do anything about it.

The Captain took a deep breath, sighed, and dropped his hands to the table. “Now you’re telling me that the enemy is planning an attack and we need to move to a less defensible place? You, the enemy, is suddenly coming to us with insider information— do you see why I’m struggling to believe you here?”

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you,” Ghost replied, still sitting back in his chair with his arms crossed. It was a bit of a risky gambit; It ran the risk of antagonizing the man further and, in turn, leading him to disregard everything Ghost had to say.

They had reached a stalemate. Trust is a two way street and both refused to move.

And so Ghost waited. He stared at the captain with a stony expression, unmoving. To an outsider, he would look intimidating, like some infallible, unaffected thing; In reality, he was trying to remember what Soap grabbed from the cabin that he could eat for dinner.

“Why are you here?” the Captain tried again. However it was a question that Ghost had already answered twice (the first time without even being prompted) and thus felt no need to repeat himself a third time.

They returned to silence. 

Ghost quietly hoped that the Captain would start interrogating him again. He was tired from the trip and the room was comfortably dark and warm with the fire; Could you blame him for starting to feel sleepy?

“And what of the god of death?”

Well, that woke him right the fuck up.

“Excuse me?” Ghost asked, hoping his odd reaction looked like that of someone who was surprised at a seemingly random question. Surely that would be more logical than whatever the truth was.

The Captain laughed like something was funny and Ghost did not like not being privy to the joke. His smile was genuine and threatening. Like he found Ghost’s ignorance amusing but felt nothing but contempt for him.

He sneered, “The army that shed so much blood, the Old Gods had to awaken to take care of the dead? Not even their favorite executioner has heard the rumors?”

Ghost remained impassive on the outside while ice ran through his veins, shocking his system and shutting off everything non-vital. He couldn’t tell if he was more alarmed that people were getting close to finding out his connection to the god or that they thought Soap was aiding the slaughter.

He would need to tread very carefully, to overthink every word and every way it could be interpreted. But he was not sure of how to go about the following conversation in a way that would save himself and Soap from any potential fallout.

“No,” Ghost corrected sharply.

“Pardon?” the Captain asked, angered surprise pouring from his tone.

“Soap has not sided with any faction,” he answered, throwing self preservation out the window. He was angry at even the implication that Soap and the general could possibly be working together. 

Why he felt the need to protect Soap’s reputation over his own safety, he did not know. It seemed he didn’t know much these days, but he knew that the idea of the god repeating the cycle that happened previously had his bones twitching.

In fact, he was so caught up in his own righteous anger and need to protect someone who did not need protecting that he didn’t catch his slip up until the other leaned back like he was taking in a sudden rush of information.

Soap.

His name had been forgotten for an age. No one should know it, least of all know it well enough to drop it casually in conversation.

Fuck, that was stupid. 

Yes, Soap had chastised for him for calling himself stupid, but holy fuck, that was stupid.

“Yet he sent you,” the Captain asked, confirming his fuck up and putting the last nail in his coffin with such force that the wood cracked.

Ghost had nothing to say that could save him, so he said nothing. He kept up the stoic stare while on the inside his lungs staged a revolt. The fewer damning things he said, the better.

“If we acted on this,” the Captain asked, gesturing to the book without taking his eyes off Ghost, “Would we have the god of death on our side?”

“No,” he answered, immediately throwing his previous solution to say nothing away. Ghost jabbed, “If you want a god on your side, start praying to the god of war.”

The Captain stared back at him. This was still an interrogation. Ghost could not afford to get angry; He answers only what is asked and nothing more. His previous response should have ended at no.

“Yet he sent you,” the Captain repeated.

Don’t answer. Don't answer. Do not answer. DO NOT ANSWER, YOU FUCKING MORON.

“If they win,” Ghost answered, “They kill the soldiers, starve the civilians, and continue their reign of terror. If you win, the war ends.”

The Captain muttered, “If life grows, so does death.”

He hummed, contemplating the slew of information that had been dumped onto him. Ghost contemplated what he would offer to Soap as an apology for how badly he’d fucked up.

Was the rumor of Soap’s return just an astronomically lucky guess out of the rumor mill? Or did someone, somewhere have some facts to back it up?

Sure, he told the kid Soap’s name, but he would be surprised if they remembered anything about that day beyond that he got hurt and Ghost took them to a medic. And even if they did, he doubted anyone would believe the delirious ramblings of a kid who just had their fucking leg amputated.

Ghost was likely the only one that could recognize the god on sight, and even then Soap looking like, well, Soap was a recent development. So how the fuck did the leader of the opposing army know that Soap had awoken?

The Captain’s voice snapped him from his contemplation.

“What do you know about strategy, son?” the Captain asked.

“Not much,” Ghost answered truthfully.

“That’s more than none,” the Captain said as he stood, “Which is good enough for me.” 

He walked to the door and barely turned the handle, letting the wind blast it open. “Get comfy, we’re gonna be here a while.”

…

Several hours later, Ghost really fucking wished he’d lied and said he didn’t even know what the word strategy meant.

Apparently, whatever strategist they’d had died a while ago (which Ghost would never say aloud, but it explained a lot about the trajectory of their more recent battles.) The Captain instead brought in a few various lower ranked soldiers he seemed to trust.

And they trusted him in turn. As inexperienced as he may be with leading an entire army, he at the very least had the trust of each and every member of his troops. When they entered the reinvigorated war room and saw Ghost, the enemy they had just been pointing spears at, they hesitated but sat at the table with him when they saw their Captain do the same.

It became a battle plan by committee, everyone pitching in their expertise to patch where there was once a gap in knowledge; Occasionally, someone would be sent down to fetch yet another person who could lend a different viewpoint.

It was annoying to be a part of as a man who hated working in teams, but he still couldn’t help but admire their tenacity. It was a bad place to be in, the general more or less planning to attack a hospital, but they refused to accept it as an impossible situation. 

Admirable, but fucking hell, he was exhausted. 

He and the Captain were the two most experienced there (which was sad, to be quite honest) and had to act as the common sense filter for about eight starry-eyed rookies who refused to accept loss, both of the battle and human life, as a possibility. 

By the time everything was finalized, it was so dark that they had to leave the upper section of the fort in pairs, sticking close with a torch to light the way. There was no room for pride when he and the Captain descended the icy stone, arm in arm so as not to fall off either side of the wall.

They provided him with lodging with the agreement that he would leave in the morning and return to the camp as if nothing had changed at all. It was harder to hold onto his guilt over leading soldiers he’d known for years into an ambush when he saw the way joy had slowly spread through the fort.

Word had gotten out that there was a plan in motion, a hope for winning. The fortress was pitch black with snow steadily falling, yet they quietly cheered at the notion that they had a chance. 

The tent he’d been given was smaller than the one he had at camp with only a few blankets stacked on the ground as opposed to a cot, but even before spending a night there, he knew he preferred it to his own. 

It was tucked close to the others, a small way to conserve warmth, and if he strained his ears, he could hear excited whispers from his neighbors. The words were lost to the wind but the happiness lingered, quiet laughter ringing in the desolate night.

It was stupid and it was sappy but Ghost finally felt at least a little close to being at peace with his betrayal, knowing that this was what he was saving in return. 

The dinner he’d been fantasizing about for hours was provided as well. Sitting in his tent, he had resolved to eat some crackers if he felt up for it and go to sleep hungry if not, but one of the rookies he’d been strategizing with apparently noticed that he hadn’t eaten. 

They had approached his tent and actually said “Knock, knock” out loud and waited for his permission to open the flaps of the tent. They handed over a bowl of some kind of stew quickly and quietly apologized both for bothering him and the small meal and wished him a good night before he could even fully process what they had knocked about. 

He was still staring into his rapidly cooling dinner when Soap appeared.

The god didn’t say anything, just draped himself over Ghost’s back like a blanket, like it was second nature to make sure he was warm and comfy, and mumbled something about his food freezing solid before he could eat it.

Ghost smirked, pushing back against Soap teasingly before sitting up, still partially leaning against him. He pulled down his mask and ate in silence, Soap tapping a rhythm against his side as he did. The rookie had apologized for it not being much, but it was one of the better meals he’d had in a while.  

He chewed slowly and dragged out the last few bites even though it had chilled past the point of being palatable, worried that when he was done, Soap would pull away.

Is he still worried about falling, jackass?

Ghost smiled. He hadn’t heard from him since that morning. It felt like two months had passed since then, since the cabin. Even after reflecting on how much he had done in one day and feeling the exhaustion creeping towards his spine, he still wasn’t ready to fall asleep and end the day yet.

It was a novel feeling for him, to want to make the day last longer as opposed to cutting it short, and though he knew he would be even more exhausted in the morning, he wasn’t ready to toss away this rare happiness for a few more minutes of sleep.

It did not take long for Soap to break the silence with a quiet mutter, “I won’t be able to stay like I did last night.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to,” Ghost reassured quietly. He would miss forcing the god of death to be his pillow, but he supposed he could make do.

“What?” Soap poked back as he leaned forward, forcing Ghost to do the same, “Already wanting me to leave?”

Ghost scoffed and rolled his eyes. He took a breath to speak but cut himself off; He almost responded with a firm denial before his brain caught up and stopped that before he could embarrass himself.

The instinctive honesty from his own subconscious surprised him. Such a simple thing, but the realization that he was genuinely upset at the idea that Soap could have felt rejected by words that were meant to reassure left him unsettled.

Thankfully, his scoff and obvious dismissal of Soap’s teasing was enough of an answer even without a verbal response and the god chuckled silently. He remembered his prior wish that Soap had coached him on how to be personable; It was back tenfold as silence found its way back into the tent. 

Ghost couldn’t tell if it was an actual awkward silence or just his social ineptitude back in full force. 

It was easier when it was just the Captain interrogating him, but now he had to keep a not just civil, but friendly conversation up without being too clumsy. 

A truly impossible task. At least the Captain had—

Had known that Soap was active but was mistaken on why. Who believed the rumors that were swirling of a greedy, malevolent god’s return. Who had his fears fed into by Ghost saying Soap’s name.

Ghost knew he was forgetting something.  

“Ghost,” Soap said in a warning tone, “Yer thinking too loud again.” He added with a small laugh, “Or, sorry — Sulking, brooding, whatever word it is you want to use.”

Ghost took in a deep breath and before he could think better of it, said, “Rumors are circulating that you reawoke to aid the general.”

The god tensed but said nothing. 

This was the one thing Soap had wanted to avoid. Despite how much his mind revolted at the words, Ghost hastily apologized, hating the uncertainty of not knowing what Soap was thinking. “I’m sorry, I—”

“I know,” Soap said in a soft voice. 

Ghost had a feeling he wasn't talking about his feelings of regret. 

The simple and quiet admission almost hurt more than if the god had gotten angry and cursed him. He didn’t deserve the god’s patience; Soap had already given him so much, but how much of it was given knowing that Ghost was restarting the cycle?

“How?” he asked.

Perhaps Soap could read minds as he answered, “It’s not your fault, it was bound to happen eventually.” He had the tone of someone telling a pretty little lie meant solely to appease the other.

Realizing that he might have misrepresented the situation, Ghost minutely shook his head and reworded his admission. “I… may have confirmed the rumors.”

Soap pulled away and looked at him with betrayed disbelief. “What?”

Confirmed the rumors that he had reawoken, not that Soap was siding with the general.

Ghost shook his head, “I meant—”

Soap interrupted, “What did you say?” The words were not angry (yet), but the surprise that Ghost may have betrayed him was still there.

Ghost relayed the conversation he’d had with the Captain almost verbatim, focusing on the memory as opposed to Soap’s reactions to his words, if the god had any reaction at all.

It was easier with Soap still sitting behind him. Confessing his fuck up to the canvas tent in front of him was easier than looking a god in the eyes and confirming his fears.

Once he was done recounting the “interrogation,” (Was Ghost allowed to poke fun at the Captain’s interrogation skills if he got Ghost to crack, even if accidentally?) they fell into a nerve-wracking silence.

The howling wind outside only called attention to the quiet within the tent. 

After some amount of time, Soap returned to how he was before Ghost had started talking — draped across Ghost’s back, this time his chin hooking over his shoulder.

It was a mirror of a position they had found themselves in multiple times before when on Taxes, but this time it felt different. A couple of weeks ago, or even a few days ago, he would have tried to tell himself that it was some convoluted manipulation tactic. 

Right there in that tent, he wasn’t even sure he could convince himself that it wasn’t Soap trying desperately not to fall apart.

Soap pressed his mouth into his shoulder. Ghost could not tell what caused the reaction until he realized the god was trying to contain a noise — whether it was cries or laughter, he did not know.

The longer it went on, the more apparent it became that he was chuckling, finding some part of the account funny. Ghost could feel the god’s small smile growing as Soap tried to dampen the reaction.

Soap mumbled between chuckles, “If you want a god on your side, start praying to the god of war.”

Ghost’s brow furrowed, the parroting of his own words not clearing up any of his confusion. The angle was awkward, but turning to his right, he could just about see Soap and the tear tracks that were running down his face.

Ghost panickedly asked aloud, “Are you crying or laughing?”

“Yes,” Soap answered with a huff of laughter that ended on a sad sniffle. 

That wasn’t a yes or no question!

He felt like a rookie on the battlefield for the first time, terrified of doing the wrong thing. Except he wasn’t fighting for his life — he could do that just fine. No, instead he was just trying to fucking comfort someone. 

He would rather be on the battlefield. Getting stabbed wasn’t as stressful as this shit.

Soap’s hands had ventured back to holding him at some point in the midst of it all. Not knowing what else to do, Ghost patted Soap’s hand in a shitty imitation of the comfort the god had provided him the night prior. Pulling the touch away afterwards felt like it would be the wrong move, so he awkwardly laid his hand on top of the Soap’s.

Now, of all times, would be a fantastic time for a pushy dead man to chime in with some post-mortem knowledge.

I don’t know? Just do whatever feels natural?

Well. Fuck. So they’re both lost then. Ghost had to think about it for a moment before rubbing Soap’s hand with his thumb. Soap had done something similar for him, right? 

Right?

Probably? I’m fucking dead, not omniscent.

Gods, what the hell is the point of being haunted if the haunter can’t help you with simple tasks like social interaction?

Fuck you man, it’s not my fault you need a miracle—

“Thank you,” Soap muttered.

FOR WHAT?

Ghost and his haunter’s thoughts matched, for once; Both were at a loss for what Soap was thinking about and referencing with his gratitude.

“You’re welcome?” Ghost more asked than said with the hope that Soap would offer some clarity.

A hope that was dashed when Soap just snickered at his confusion.

Better than him crying, at least?

Soap, with a smile that seemed out of place for how much stress he had just caused Ghost, said in a wispy voice, “Lie down, you’re gonna have a long day tomorrow.”

It was obvious that Soap didn’t want to discuss whatever the hell just happened even though Ghost was still unsure if Soap was pissed at him or not. Making someone cry does not feel good. 

He wanted to ask what Soap wanted him to do to make up for his blunder, to ask Soap if there was anything he could do. Ghost did neither. He instead stretched, the motion a little awkward with Soap still clinging to his back. If Soap wanted to act like nothing had happened, then that’s what Ghost can do.

Just ignore the past however-many minutes and go to sleep.

Unfortunately for him, it was as if Soap’s words had activated a part of Ghost’s mind, his exhaustion suddenly hitting him even though he had been fine barely a moment prior. 

He stumbled through the steps he needed to take before laying down; Boots were removed with fumbling fingers, blankets hoarded by cold hands, and weapons laid out with sore muscles.

Soap tried and failed to hide his amusement at his lack of coordination, asking something about whether or not Ghost had snuck out to a tavern when Soap wasn’t looking.

Ghost aired his grievances, complaining about Soap with incomprehensible rambles. The nonsensical words kept him awake enough to carry through his routine but if you asked him the next day what the fuck he was talking about, he would have had no answer.

When he finally laid down, the weight of the day fell onto his chest, forcing him to lie still and breathe before he was able to untense and pull his blankets closer as he rolled to his side.

Ghost only remembered that Soap was still there when the god spent some time pulling his covers straight and making sure he was evenly protected from the evil cold. Again, he felt shame for how incapable it made him seem but he forced himself not to dwell on it.

Beyond the shame, there was something else there. Disappointment, mayhaps. But why he felt it, he did not know. At least, not until it was quelled by Soap lying next to him.

He internally scoffed at himself for being so childish but still did not rebuke the offered touch. It was muted through the several layers of fabric, something he was grateful for.

Ghost’s eyes drifted closed without his permission. Opening them, he found that Soap was watching him.

When he had first started looking into tales of the first incarnation of Death, he found it funny just how varied accounts of the god’s eyes were. It was such an odd thing to take note of, but it stuck out to him. 

While most everyone agreed that the god’s preferred form had blue eyes, the exact tone was an unexpectedly hot topic for debate.

Some said they were dark like a stormy sea, some said they were light and freeing like an open blue sky, and some even claimed they were icy like a pond that had just frozen over.

Back then, he had thought it stupid, assuming people were either exaggerating or, what he thought was most likely, that the god changed the tone on a whim. But staring into Soap’s eyes directly, he finally understood.

They were monochromatic prisms, only reflecting one color but showcasing every shade that could be considered blue. 

Or maybe it was past his bedtime. That was probably it.

When he pulled out of his stupid, blue-tinged thoughts, Soap was still staring at him but with an expression that Ghost wasn’t awake enough to understand. He hoped his own creepy staring would be cast aside as a direct result of his exhaustion.

He fought to stay awake a little longer, something in him wanting to avoid falling into sleep.

And it was as he was losing that fight that he felt something against his forehead for just a moment before it was gone. In his sleepy state, he couldn’t quite figure out what it was, brushing it aside as perhaps a stubborn strand of hair or bunched up fabric.

In a level of clarity you can only get when just about to fall asleep, when your logic and reasoning has already shut down and left you only with observable fact, he realized that Soap, the god of death, just kissed him on the forehead. 

It felt nice, he thought.

Anything that came after was lost as he finally fell to the whims of his exhausted mind. While the idea of sleeping peacefully felt laughable for years, he had now fallen asleep two nights in a row without feeling like the world was going to crush him once he reopened his eyes.

The peace was shattered by a loud noise outside, something deafening in the dead of night that echoed through the walls of the fort. 

He sat up quickly, his heart pounding as he prepared for an attack. He stilled as his chest heaved, forcing his mind to wake up and listen for more of an indication of what was happening outside the tent.

There were several quiet footsteps shuffling around, and it wasn’t until he processed that there was light, daylight edging past the flaps of the tent that he realized there was no nighttime kerfuffle.

It was morning. 

Soap was gone, likely (hopefully) having left hours ago. While he wanted to fall backwards and go back to sleep, the sound had sent too much energy through him to allow him even a few more minutes of rest.

Ghost only got up to start the day after quite a while of cursing the gods (all except for one) and reluctantly peeled away each blanket one by one. With his shield gone, he got ready quickly, donning his outerwear before the icy air had the chance to freeze him solid.

He repacked his bag and rubbed his eyes, demanding himself to wake up fully before leaving the tent. He was barely awake when he pushed past the flaps of his tent, but it was as close as he was going to get.

When he stood fully, he saw that the rest of the fort was in a similar state of tiredness. He had a feeling that not even the Captain was awake enough to kick his men into shape as they shambled around and prepared breakfast.

As much as he wanted to throw himself onto a fire to get as warm as he physically could, he instead found the stable that Taxes had been moved to and prepared to set out. He needed to leave five minutes ago if he wanted to get to camp before nightfall.

Ghost was surprised to see that his horse had been well cared for, someone clearly having taken the time to win her trust to brush and feed her. He smiled as he pet her mane, happy to see his fears of her being mistreated were unfounded.

He remembered once upon a time ago, he had denied Taxes being his horse but by now she might as well have been. There certainly wasn’t any other horse he would want to take with him to fuck up a long planned war.

“Ghost, I—”

The voice from behind him was an unwelcome intrusion on his time spent spoiling Taxes. He turned to face it stonily, his anger plain in what was visible of his face. 

It was the kid. His expression softened without him being fully aware of it.

“Gods,” the kid flinched at the anger that was momentarily directed towards them, mumbling under their breath in a way that Ghost clearly wasn’t meant to overhear, “Fucking creepy bastard.”

They rolled their shoulders and carried on. “I wanted to thank you.”

For the second time in less than twelve hours, someone was thanking him and he had no idea what for.

They waited, clearly expecting him to say something, and looked only slightly thrown off by the silence. Back in the woods, they had been full of determination and brashness, ready to gut Ghost if given the chance. Here, the determination stayed, but now with much more nerves.

When it was clear that Ghost wasn’t going to say anything, they swallowed anxiously and stumbled over their words as they added, “I… I would have died if not for you. Back there. In the woods. I—”

“Do not tell me that you owe me your life,” Ghost interrupted sternly. He walked to the other side of Taxes; He knew the conversation was not done, but he did not have the time to stand there doing nothing. He glanced up at them, waiting for their rebuttal.

The kid was surprised by the sudden broken silence and shook their head, “Well, yeah, of course not.”

Ghost heaved an internal sigh of relief as he prepared Taxes’s bridle.

The kid continued, “Not anymore. I turned in the favor by stopping you from getting skewered yesterday.”

Ghost heaved an external sigh. “You do not owe me for causing your leg to be amputated.” He wasn’t used to speaking so openly but he needed the kid to understand his point for reasons he himself couldn’t voice.

“What? No. What?” the kid looked bewildered, adding on, “My leg was already fucked when you found me. If you hadn’t gotten me out of the woods— What?” Their own bafflement cut them off and they paused, trying to figure out where the point of confusion lied. “Was I supposed to crawl for miles with one leg? Just worm my way through the dirt ‘til I found a town?”

Ghost stared at them as he realized that he was the one being irrational. The kid was objectively correct, and yet he still felt guilty. Why was he being irrational?

When Ghost again said nothing, they added, “I thought I was going to starve in those woods. And I would have if not for you. I mean, ‘if it’s life or limb,’ and all that, right?”

He stared at them. They stared back, but with a shifting gaze, too impatient. Snow had accumulated in their hair, standing out against the black strands. They never stood still, their fingers tapping where they held their crutch and their foot shuffling as they tried to keep their balance.

They reminded him of his nephew.

The revelation hit him like a kick in the chest. 

He looked in the kid’s eyes and saw a nephew he only got to meet a handful of times. A nephew he had gotten killed years ago, along with the rest of his family.

Logically, it made no sense. They did not look alike and even in behavior there were only so many similarities between someone old enough to be a medic in an army and a child forever stuck at six years old.

It made no sense, and yet he looked at the pain the kid had gone through and could only think of how much pain he had caused his nephew.

Ghost was being irrational and he didn’t like it. He was not supposed to be irrational— he was not allowed to be and with the life he led he could not afford to be.

“Uh, yeah, anyways,” the kid nodded, not knowing how to respond to Ghost’s unwavering stare. “Just uh, wanted to say thanks.” They turned, leaving slowly as their crutches struggled for traction on the icy stone.

“Kid,” he called out, refusing to let his irrational emotions control him. His chest still hurt.

“Badger,” they corrected as they turned awkwardly, standing as they waited to see what it was Ghost wanted. With such a shitty nickname, you would think they would be happy with being called anything else.

Ghost nodded his head in a “Come here” gesture, grabbing his bag. They approached Taxes cautiously, hesitantly reaching out a hand to pet her. To Ghost’s surprise, the mare allowed the touch, her skin jumping as they made contact but not moving away.

(Or maybe it wasn’t that surprising. Maybe this was just how she was when she wasn’t surrounded by the rowdy soldiers she normally had to keep company.)

Once they had her permission to pet her, the kid moved both of their crutches to one hand and rested their arm against her back for support. She was tall enough that the angle was a little off, but they seemed happy being able to pet her.

Looking away (and not thinking about how much his nephew had loved horses), he rooted through his bag, pulling out something that he never should have held onto and passed it over.

“Is this… my knife?” they asked.

Ghost grunted an affirmation, brushing Taxes and failing to not focus on the way their face lit up as they looked between him and the knife.

“Thank you! I thought I left it in the woods, I thought it was gone!”

Nope, Ghost just forgot to leave it with the medics when he dropped them off. 

He grunted again, not wanting to admit that it was his own oversight that led to them thinking they lost something that seemed important to them.

The kid repeated, “Thank you, I wish I had something to give—”

“You do not owe me anything,” Ghost interrupted, staring them down.

“Right,” they added awkwardly, unsure of what to do with the firm command. When Ghost had to brush around their arm, they sheathed the knife and held out their hand for the brush.

He considered them for a moment but hesitantly passed it over. Unsurprisingly, they just brushed her other side. They had to lean awkwardly on their crutches to do so, but again just seemed happy to brush her.

(His nephew had ran up to him, excited. They met so few times the little tyke was still anxious around him but seeing the horse he’d been given for his visit home made him forget his fears.

The kid had gasped in amazed wonder, letting Ghost pick him up so he could pet the horse’s mane. 

His brother smiled, happy to see them bonding, even if it was only for a few hours before Ghost had to return to his cell. These moments were treasured, for all of them. 

They were bittersweet, he was only allowed home before a major fight. The one kindness from the arena, a last chance to say goodbye, one last shared dinner should the worst come to pass.

His nephew wasn’t old enough for any of that, however, and just seemed happy to pet his uncle’s temporary steed. He glanced between Ghost and the horse with a look of pure adoration—)

When they were done, they held onto the brush a moment, considering, before passing it back and asking, “The person that was with you, my memories are all fucked, but uh, gods this is gonna sound insane, was that the god of death? Like… the old one?”

Ghost did not reach for the brush nor answer. He did not think they remembered that.

They sighed, relieved. “Okay, yeah, I knew it was just my mind fucking with me. I just, I— I know it’s insane, but—”

He grabbed the brush and interrupted calmly, “No, you were right. That was Soap, the god of death.” Ghost turned to put the brush away and hide his smile at the kid’s sputters. At least he knew now that it wasn’t the kid that blabbed about Soap’s return.

The kid stammered, “What the fuck—? Actually, no, sorry, I have to go… uh… fucking… water the grass.” They turned and headed back to where they must have come from, shaking their head. 

Ghost could hear them grumbling about ancient deities appearing out of nowhere just to be an inconvenience. Ghost could most certainly sympathize.

He finished preparing for the trip and mounted up. As he approached the gate, he made eye contact with the Captain. The Captain nodded at him and Ghost returned the gesture with a hole opening in his chest. 

As he left the fort, riding out into the snow, he was struck by the realization that he felt… lighter. He should have felt worse, now irrevocably dooming his cohort, but instead he—

He stopped in the middle of the road.

Ghost… free wasn’t the right word, it couldn’t be, but after the battle, he’d be gone. He would have to. To leave, to find somewhere, anywhere else. He would never see the general again after leading his men into the trap.

Within three weeks, he could go wherever he wanted. The general wouldn’t have control over him, nor the owner of the arena. He pushed Taxes into a walk.

Why did the prospect of freedom fill him with dread?