#okkotsu yuuta reader insert

[banjjakz]

serial bereavement ; yuuta x gn/f!reader

Every first Thursday for the past six months, without fail, a single plot of ashes has been unlawfully exhumed from the cemetery behind Joenji Temple.

Or: As a rookie hire, you are partnered with Investigations Section 1 Officer Okkotsu Yuuta to investigate a law-defying, bone-chilling, uniquely disturbing case of obsessive love that threatens to shut down the entirety of Shinjuku.

part i. word count: 5.2k

warnings: rating & warnings WILL change; part i of iii; reader is referred to with she/her pronouns & has a vagina & breasts, but is never addressed with gendered titles [e.g.: "ms.," "lady," etc.]; eventual smut that is dubcon at best; horror-romance, in that order; themes of psychosexual horror; side satosugu [non-essential to plot]; i cannot overstate how abnormal this one is, even for me

the content of this fictional work is inspired by the video game "collar x malice" which belongs to the original rightful owners. i do not own or claim to own the rights to the collar x malice franchise. this written work does not represent the intentions, actions, or thoughts of any of the creators/owners of the "collar x malice" franchise.

‪♡‬ read on ao3 ‪♡‬

likes♡ / reblogs ↻ appreciated!

Every first Thursday for the past six months, without fail, a single plot of ashes has been unlawfully exhumed from the cemetery behind Joenji Temple.

The first incident was thought to be a freak accident, one of those strange, wild card crimes that confound local police and commandeer national attention. Pictures of the desecrated grave ravaged internet forums for weeks thereafter, sending chills down the backs of even the most stoutly atheist Japanese youth. An already horrific occurrence worsened all the more with the repeated presence of a seemingly random signature: there, at the bottom of the grave, in the very deepest point of the aged, black soil, laid a folded handwritten note. Upon unfurling the crisp creases, the Shinjuku Police Force Special Crimes Unit discovered that these were actually letters.

Love letters, to be exact.

Presumably penned by the perp, the characters were neat and clean – almost feminine in nature. So strong was the desire imbued into these letters that it seemed as though each individual brush stroke contained one thousand sonnets of unceasing, burning ardor. Clearly, the perpetrator yearned for the attention of their beloved.

That they would go to great lengths – immoral lengths, even – for just a three-minute story on the evening news, all so that their beloved might idly overhear the report as they prepare their dinner, idly chopping radishes to the soundtrack of a violent confession woefully fallen upon their deaf ears…

Well. It makes you squirm. You suppose that’s the point.

As a fresh-faced rookie of the Special Regions Crime Prevention Office, this is your first time on the job in the midst of such a sensational case. At first, your department was unsure how to label these crimes: neither killings nor injuries were incurred, and yet, the spiritual damage effected by the robbing of a Buddhist shrine’s graveyard was somehow worse than any brutal homicide. Eventually, the commissioner labeled these incidents as “Serial Bereavements” out of respect to the families whose deceased loved ones had been wrongfully removed from their final resting place.

After the first offense, local news stations reported the anomalous crime with a sick sort of fascination. Lovesickness was no foreigner in Japan, and although many screwed their faces up at the morbid displays of affection, so too did just as many turn up the volume on their televisions and lean just a few centimeters closer, eyes glazed with blue light, horror, mortification, and arousal.

After the second and third offenses, it was obvious that a pattern was beginning to emerge. Both incidents occurred on the first Thursday of the month, and both incidents were signed with the same achingly forlorn pages of desperation. In fear of exacerbating the perpetrator, or inspiring copycats, news stations and publications were not permitted to release the contents of the letters.

After the fourth offense, protests began to congregate outside of the Shinjuku Police Station, demanding an immediate and swift correction of the police’s incompetency in addressing the issue. When the first set of ashes had been disturbed, cherry blossoms still clung to the trees. By this time it was July, and the harsh glare of the summer sun beat unrelentingly upon the earth, as though reprimanding its inhabitants.

After the fifth offense, a special curfew was instated for all residents of the Shinjuku ward. No persons for any reason were to be out past eleven o’clock at night. This was punishable by immediate apprehension for questioning. The law was martial, but the law was necessary. Or so the commissioner claimed.

After the sixth offense, the police began looking inwardly, suspecting members of its own ranks. There was no possible way that a civilian could have been able to penetrate the immense security measures installed to secure the Joenji cemetery. Ropes and ropes of caution tape, nearly 24/7 surveillance, and daily K-9 rounds were still not enough to halt the perpetrator in their tracks. This could only mean one thing:

An inside job.

“Scary,” shivers Ieiri, mockingly, lips curled in a sardonic smirk around the length of her unlit cigarette. “You hear they think it’s one of us?”

You regularly have lunch with Ieiri Shoko, director of the Forensics department. She is as caustic as she is jaded, having served in an underrecognized role for far too long, wasting her prolific talents in an obscure government position with little excitement – save for, of course, highly-charged periods of reoccurring atrocities, such as the current case of the Serial Bereavements.

“Don’t even joke. We should be taking this seriously…”

The cooling September breeze has you huddling into your knees a little further. Enjoying lunch on the rooftop was a treat while it was still summer. But now, September has just torn a new page in your calendar and has brought with it an uncharacteristically crisp cold snap. It is Tuesday, the second.

“I’m sooooo serious,” Ieiri says after taking a rather dramatically prolonged drag from the now-lit cig. “Couldn’t be any more serious. Brr.”

Usually, Ieiri’s dry humor is an effective, if transient, salve to your ever-festering anxiety. But today is an exception.

“Please, just think about it for a second... To think that any one of the people we work with every day could be committing such heinous crimes…and for a romantic obsession, no less…it doesn’t frighten you?”

Ieiri exhales smoke, puffing lazily like a sated dragon draped over its hoard. “Nah. I seriously doubt anyone in our ward has the balls.”

Her vulgarity makes you blush. You’ve always been easy to fluster. “Ieiri-san!”

“How many times have I told you to just call me by my first name… jeez.” She ruffles your hair without even an ounce of care for how it makes you groan in consternation. “Too polite for your own good. Someone is going to take advantage of that, one day. And then where will you be? Calling for Ieiri-san to come save you?”

Somewhere, she’s strayed from the path of lighthearted teasing. You still under the weight of her calloused palm, peering curiously up at her through your lashes. “Um…well…”

And as soon as her touch had manifested upon you, just as quickly is it yanked away. “Anyways, call me whatever you like. Not like it matters, anyway.”

“I guess not…”

The rest of your lunch is finished in an unstable silence. Her final, rhetorical question rolls around in your mind, impressing itself upon your malleable brain tissue: Calling for Ieiri-san to save you?

But when would you need saving?

You’re a police officer, after all. You can take care of yourself.

If you couldn’t, why would you serve as an officer in the first place?

;

On the following Monday – the third of September – the director of the Investigations Unit summons you to the fifth floor.

After a polite (terrified) bow, you enter Investigations HQ. “Hello.” Please do not fire me. Please do not transfer me. Please do not publicly reprimand me. Please do not—

“Ah, thank you for coming. Wow, what a deep bow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a perfectly geometrical ninety degrees.”

Face burning, you avert your gaze to the marble floor. “Ummm…”

You’ve heard that the chief of Investigations, Gojo Satoru was an eccentric fellow, passing in and out as he pleased through the station, hanging off of the director like a second skin. It should come as no surprise that he is here to greet you, today. And yet, still does your thin skin prickle with humiliation, with shame.

Geto Suguru, director of Investigations, cuts in before his partner can continue. “Leave her alone, Satoru. She’s shaking. Are you doing alright today, officer?”

Embarrassed, you nod. Great. It hasn’t even been a full sixty seconds and you’re already embarrassing yourself in front of your superiors.

“Alright, alright. I’ll lay off. Only ‘cuz you asked, though! Hehe.”

“I’ve summoned you today to invite you to join a special taskforce,” Geto continues, unperturbed by Gojo’s wily eyebrow wiggles. “This taskforce will use unique means to investigate the Joenji Serial Bereavements.”

Your blood is paralyzed in your veins, cowed by the enormity of this proposal. “Sir…?”

“In the short amount of time since you’ve joined the Shinjuku Police Department, your conduct has been nothing but outstanding. You’re capable and damn impressive. And frankly speaking, officer, we need a fresh set of eyes on this case.”

There’s nothing else you could possibly say other than: “I would be humbled to join. Thank you.”

“Great, knew we could count on you. We’re keeping the taskforce small for confidentiality’s sake. You’ll be working with one other partner: Officer Okkotsu Yuuta from Investigations Section 1.”

That name… why do you know that name?

Then it hits you: Okkotsu Yuuta is the name whispered through the halls of the police department with awe, envy, admiration, and – occasionally – fear. He is a legendary detective with prowess in both tactical as well as strategical measures. His presence is felt rather than seen, as he is scarcely spotted within the physical walls of the department. However, what does not tangibly appear is nonetheless ever-present in whispered rumors and glamorized notoriety.

“O-Okkotsu-san…” you stammer, taken aback. “But…I’m sorry, sir. I don’t mean to question your judgement, but why have I been chosen to pair with Okkotsu-san?”

“Oh! He specifically requested—”

Gojo’s cheerful sentence is curtailed by a swift elbow to the ribs. While he recovers, Geto finishes the thought, “Okkotsu has requested to be paired with a rookie for this assignment to personally train them. Something about ‘personally ensuring the longevity of the Shinjuku police force,’ or the like. What a do-gooder, am I right?”

“Okay,” you respond, uncertain.

“Your first matter of business will be a visitation to the Joenji graveyard to look for any new leads. You leave in one hour. Okkotsu will meet you downstairs, in front of the building. Good luck!”

In a daze, you bow deeply once more. “Thank you. I will be sure to work hard.”

;

Unsure of what to expect, you linger in front of the armed entrance to the building, trying your best not to shift your weight from foot to foot in an obviously apparent display of anxiety.

It’s not that you’re the type to be starstruck! You are a sensible, no-nonsense, down-to-earth person. Celebrities have never appealed to you much, and idol culture continues to confound you.

In light of this, it’s quite difficult to explain the visceral, full-body reaction you have when you meet Officer Okkotsu Yuuta for the first time.

He is not superbly handsome. Good-looking enough to get street-casted? Sure. With some minor work, he might even be the jewel visual for an up-and-coming boy group. Young and fit, he is the picture of an officer steadily approaching the peak of their hotshot years. Plain, dark hair falls on either side of his forehead in a lopsided part, and his uniform is buttoned and put together, if only a little wrinkled. All in all, he is an average, considerably attractive young man in the Shinjuku police force.

And yet.

Eyes like pools of obsidian tether you to the spot like a spell has been cast upon your bones. Enchanted, your lips part, but no sounds slips through. The intrusive, overstimulating soundtrack of Shinjuku rush hour traffic fades to little more than background noise as your senses are held hostage by the void of quiet, negative space in the shape of a young man that stands in front of you.

His bow is deep and overly formal. He’s technically your superior… and definitely a senior-ranking officer. “A pleasure to meet you,” he announces to the concrete ground “I’m Okkotsu Yuuta, Investigations Section 1.”

“N-nice to meet you, Okkotsu-senpai. My name is—”

The cringe marring his otherwise untroubled face stops your words before his interjection is even voiced. “Ah, um. Just ‘Okkotsu’ is fine. We look to be around the same age, too, so I don’t mind. May I address you casually as well?”

Face burning, brain scrambled, you somehow remember how to speak. You give him an affirmative before pausing, perplexed. How did he know your name already?

Okkotsu specifically requested to be paired with a rookie…

Geto’s words float to the forefront of your mind, soothing your hummingbird heart. Surely, the director and chief of Investigations must have briefed Okkotsu on your file before you were cleared to accompany him on this special taskforce.

Normally, you are woefully naïve, a bumbling but well-intentioned junior officer. The unsettling nature of the Serial Bereavements have pushed you towards an edge you didn’t even know you could reach.

The thought of the assignment weighs down your fresh-faced bashfulness. Suddenly, the afternoon sun is less bright, the heat on your face concentrating into the precursor to a migraine just behind your eyes.

Okkotsu blinks once, twice. “Thank you for working with me on this case. Would you believe me if I told you that I’m a bit of a scaredy cat?”

Your eyes bug out of your head in disbelief. “Um? But you…” His reputation specifically includes the highest number of skillful takedowns, arrest totals, and successful confessions across the entire prefecture. A scaredy cat?

“I know how it looks. It would be quite embarrassing if anyone else knew… but I’m a pretty anxious person.”

With a refocused perspective, your gaze hones in on the smattering of purple bruises underneath his tired eyes which birth a cool webbing of veins sprawling down and out across his pale, gaunt face. You realize that his uniform isn’t actually wrinkled – it just hangs off of his thin frame, tucked intentionally to give off the illusion of a much bigger silhouette.

In him, you see a reflection all too similar: young, ragged, hungry, scared.

It’s not enough to set you completely at ease, but your lungs relax their hold on your bated breath, letting it go as slowly and reluctantly as a child forced to part with their favorite plush toy. “Me too,” you hum. “Um, nonetheless, I will definitely try my best to be helpful. I hope I will not slow you down Okkotsu-se—er, Okkotsu.”

“It’s not about fast or slow.” The service car pulls up and loiters at the curb where the two of you are still lingering. He opens the back door for you. This is the first time a polite young man your age has done that. You try your best to remember that you are literally at work, on the clock, about to investigate an especially morbid case.

Once ensuring you’re comfortably inside, he shuts the door and rounds the rear of the vehicle to slide into the leather seat next to you.

“What matters is that we can rely on each other. Fast or slow, we’re partners now… as long as we finish together, it doesn’t matter the pace.”

He rattles off the address to the department driver after dropping what is possibly the most insightful reassurance you have ever received in your life.

Okay. You can kind of understand why the entire department is obsessed with him.

“R-right. Thank you.”

The rest of the ride is spent in a silence two shades off from comfortable. Nothing is wrong, per se – but the both of your negative energies linger and interact with each other like animals of the same species encountering for the first time.

How odd, you think, to find someone like you, and who is unashamed – eager, even – to admit it. To embrace it.

;

The cemetery is small and would otherwise go unnoticed if not for the dramatic influx in attention following the past few months. Plain and unadorned, neatly kept, with no ostentatious monuments or memorials, as is befitting for the burial grounds behind a Buddhist temple. All in all, the scenery would be somewhat peaceful if not for the six disturbed plots of land where remains were once laid to rest.

This is your first time at the scene of the crime. Your rank is too low to justify visiting this high-profile area without clearance from a supervisor. Now that you’ve been assigned to a taskforce specifically investigating this case, it was necessary that Yuuta took you to observe the scene yourself.

Although there is a total lack of gore or rot, still does the sight of six empty graves provoke within you an acute revulsion. Perhaps it is the absence of any overt suffering, and the oppressing knowledge of the extended waves of unearthed grief spanning across multiple kin networks who must now lose their loved one a second time – this is what inspires the damp, fragile sheen pooling at your waterline.

“Hey,” calls a soft, gentle voice. Yuuta’s timid wave brings you back from your wallowing. “Before we left, I grabbed the letters from forensics. Thought it might be helpful to have while we re-assess the scene.”

Something he’d done entirely for your benefit. Conscious of your lack of experience with the case, you incline your head, grateful. It’s almost as though your gratitude makes him uncomfortable. He averts his gaze and hands over a collection of six plastic-encased papers. Despite their origins within deep, aged earth, each one is pristine.

Steeling yourself, you read February’s letter, the origin of chaos:

My Dearly Beloved,

Did you know that not even the moon and all her stars, nor the sun and all his days, burn as brightly as my heart does for you? There is a certain privilege that I have been blessed with in this lifetime: the privilege to admire you from afar while passing through your stratosphere when it is convenient.

But, unlike you, I am a flawed and impure creature. I am greedy. Each morning, I wake up with a hunger to do more than watch. I want to draw you near to my side. I want to feel your flesh. I want to know what your innards taste like. I want to bathe in your desire. I want to carve myself into your being, forever and ever and ever, so that in the next life, you will be born missing me.

Please look at me. I love you so terribly it defies the laws of life and death. You’ve awoken something within me. I hope you’ll take responsibility.

Nauseous, you shift the letter to the bottom of the pile, hands shaking, head spinning.

“How disturbing…” you can’t stop the words from leaving you, unbidden. “How can someone desire another person in such a way that it permits violence?”

Okkotsu studies you closely. “Do you really feel that way?”

Alarm coils like a snake cornered in the pit of your gut. Sharply, you snap your gaze to his still, calm face. As pallid and pockmarked with depression as the moon herself. “Excuse me?”

“Are you truly disgusted by this kind of love?”

Fighting to ignore your fight-or-flight response, you answer: “I don’t consider this to be love.”

Peculiarly, his face breaks out into a smile, clearing away the lingering cloudy expression. “And that’s why I’m glad we’re partners. I knew you’d have the right idea about this.”

“Most people condemn this crime…”

“But too many sympathize with a false motive,” he volleys back, dark eyes glinting with a strange intensity. “This isn’t a crime of ‘love.’ The perp doesn’t act out of affection. They want to own, subdue, and take what is not theirs. How is that love?”

“Exactly,” you affirm. “To be honest, those connections have always kind of unsettled me…even in shows, or books, or games, I could never look at the obsessive type.”

“Scary, aren’t they?”

This isn’t just a work case for him, you belatedly realize. His tense posture, his imploring eyes, his specification of partner – this is personal. Something about these occurrences strikes a chord deep inside of him, resonating so profoundly that it would not be enough to watch another resolve these crimes; no, Okkotsu is compelled to eradicate the danger completely, uprooting it from the source, destroying the danger with his bare hands, watching it dissipate with his own eyes.

“Mm. I’m glad we’re working on this case together, Okkotsu.”

He offers a small, benign quirk of the lips. “Me too.”

Your partnership progresses steadily from this first encounter.

Most of your daily duties are now fulfilled off-site, accompanying Okkotsu to various locations of interest, following potential leads, and occasionally conducting interviews. It’s been merely two days since the taskforce has been formed, and yet, you’ve been so preoccupied with your new assignment that it completely slips your mind to alert Shoko as to why you’ve been absent from your regular rooftop lunch dates.

You are mortified to open an aggrieved SMS from her on Wednesday morning:

Ieiri-san 08:15Oi. Are you dead

Me 08:16 Ahhhh!! I’m so sorry!!!! A new assignment is taking up a lot of my time. I apologize for not communicating. And for missing lunch. We can eat together today? I can bring you something? Whatever you like! I can make it!

Ieiri-san 08:20 Nah, none of that You’re probably overworking yourself already. No need for extra labor Just meet me on rooftop @ usual time

Me 08:21 Absolutely!!

It is surprisingly difficult to tear yourself from Yuuta’s side, as the two of you have been practically glued together from sunrise to sundown ever since embarking on the special assignment. He is reluctant to let you slip away for lunch, and as a result, you linger past a reasonable time to reassure him that you will be back on time.

When you are finally able to break away from Investigations HQ, you check the time on your phone only to realize that noon has rounded the corner with unanticipated haste. Hurriedly, you make your way to the seventh level of the police station building, embarrassingly conscious of your damp forehead and rapid breath.

“Sorry I’m late!!” Bursting through the metal door, you explode onto the rooftop, cloth-wrapped bento in one hand, and your furiously beating heart in the other.

It’s almost comical, how serene Ieiri looks, unbothered as ever as she leans against the railing with her trademark cigarette weaving in between her restless fingers. “Took you long enough. Been waiting for two days, now.”

“Ahhhh…”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. You look like you’re about to piss your pants. C’mere.”

Face in flames, you stride over to pop a squat next to her. “I really do apologize, Ieiri-san. These last couple of days have been really hectic…”

“How so? You mentioned a new assignment. When did that happen?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure if I can talk about it…Investigations personally assigned me…um, not to be impolite or brag or anything! Just, I think it’s a little sensitive in nature, so—”

“Investigations?” She cuts you off, her dull timbre unusually sharp. “You mean those two idiots asked you to handle a highly classified criminal case? During your first quarter? By yourself?”

“Ah!! Geto-senpai and Gojo-senpai are quite eccentric, but they are very nice--!”

“No, they are not—”

“—and I’m not by myself! I’m partnered with Okkotsu Yuuta!”

If you weren’t such an anxious person who is well-practiced in the art of overanalyzing the countenance of others, you would surely have missed the way Ieiri’s eyes widen imperceptibly, the way her breath stutters on the next exhalation. She does not look at you for a beat. Two beats. She stares straight ahead at the exterior of the building when asks,

“You’re investigating the Serial Bereavement cases.”

“Ieiri-san…” you whine, head in your hands. “I’m, like, ninety percent sure no one else is supposed to know…”

“What, don’t trust me? Not like I have any friends around here to tell.”

“That’s, well. That’s not the point. Okkotsu mentioned that this was a sensitive matter, so…”

“Just ‘Okkotsu,’ huh?” She peers sideways at you. “No ‘senpai’? Wow, you two sure got comfortable fast.”

“No, please don’t misunderstand! Because honorifics make him uncomfortable, he asked that we speak casually!”

“I asked you the same.”

Her blunt response stuns you silent. It takes you several seconds to produce a response. “Well, yes. But that’s different…Ieiri-san is older…”

“Not by much.” Finally, she lights the cig in her hand. “Hey, let me ask you something.”

“Okay, please go ahead.”

“It was Investigations who put you on the case? Nobody else was involved?”

Hesitation halts your tongue. Mentally, you are transported back to that fateful day, just a little less than forty-eight hours ago, when your new assignment had been unloaded upon you.

“…I’m sorry, sir. I don’t mean to question your judgement, but why have I been chosen to pair with Okkotsu-san?”

“Oh! He specifically requested—”

Gojo was never able to finish his sentence, cut off by Geto’s strategically timed blow. Almost as though the chief was about to reveal something better left unsaid.

You may be a rookie, but you aren’t stupid. There’s a reason why you got this job, after all.

And if you can deduce this much, surely the next conclusion you land on isn’t so far-fetched:

Okkotsu must have personally requested you as a partner.

But the question is…why? You hadn’t been personally acquainted before you’d met outside of the station before heading to your first investigation together. He’s been nothing but kind and respectful – if a little unsettlingly intense, at times, but you think that’s just kind of how he is.

There must be an element that you’re missing from the equation, a piece of the puzzle of which you are not yet aware. It is for this uncertainty that you choose to disclose the truth to Ieiri.

“Okkotsu requested me as his partner.”

Obviously, she asked you for this information because something was dependent upon how you answered. Studying Ieiri’s reaction might be the first step towards unraveling this strange situation.

And react, indeed she does; again, it is quite muted, eroded by years of police work and other unspoken traumas you’re sure lie dormant inside of her mysterious, impenetrable depths. But perhaps it is because of your friendship that Ieiri’s micro-expressions appear to you more as the dramatic admission of feeling that they truly are.

A twitch of the brow, a purse of the lips. Her next exhalation of smoke comes fast and hard, expelled from her mouth in one decisive whoosh of toxic air. Usually, she pays special attention to the wind pattern so that she does not blow smoke in your face. It seems she’s thoroughly perturbed today; the fumes whip you across the cheek and you hack violently in surprise.

Your adverse response snaps her out of the momentary brooding. “Shit, sorry,” she mumbles, quickly removing the cig from her lips and smothering it on the ground. “You alright?”

“J-just fine,” you murmur after one final bout of ear-splitting dry heaves. “Can I ask you a question, now?”

“Shoot.”

“Is it a bad thing that Okkotsu and I are partners?”

Visibly, Ieiri must chew and swallow her initial retort. This is quite unprecedented behavior from the woman with little to no filter on any given occasion. “How are you finding it so far?”

“Well…he’s really considerate. And accommodating. Um, he even revisited the crime scene with me since I’d never been, and he let me read all the letters, too.”

“That’s funny,” says Ieiri, stone-faced. “How did he show you the letters?”

“He said he picked them up from the station before we left. I was quite surprised that he went through all the trouble of doing that, since those kinds of sensitive evidence usually aren’t allowed to leave Forensics…”

“You’re absolutely right. They aren’t.”

“Ah…Okkotsu must have special clearance…?”

“He doesn’t,” Ieiri deadpans.

“…I see…”

Her hands twitch at her sides like she’s itching for another smoke, even though the carcass of her most recent stick still smolders underneath the dagger of her high heel. “Well. You can do whatever you want with Okkotsu. Sounds like you’re in capable, dedicated hands.”

“Huh? Ieiri-san, wh—wait, where are you going--?!”

But before you can finish your panicked inquiry, Ieiri has already blown through the metal door, stomping her way back downstairs to the sixth floor where the Forensics Department awaits her gloomy presence. It’s unlike her to storm off mid-conversation. You’ve never seen her emotions rise above slight annoyance – and that level of frustration is reserved exclusively for the Investigations chief and director. What had you done to provoke even worse of an ire?

Riddled with guilt and anxiety, you wade through the rest of the workday in a foggy, unfocused haze. Okkotsu gives up trying to ask you what is wrong after his third attempt. When you eventually, mercifully fall into bed that night, unshed tears overflow past your clenched, trembling lashes, staining your pillow with sorrows you cannot speak aloud.

Upon waking up, you are granted no reprieve. It is Thursday, the sixth of September. The first Thursday of the month.

You don’t bother with something as trivial as breakfast this morning – not when the thought of what awaits you in the day ahead fills you to the brim with unbearable dread.

Arriving at the police station and getting briefed on the day’s events only confirms your worst fears: there has been another Bereavement at the Joenji graveyard.

This month’s occurrence is twistedly unique.

Accompanying the usual handwritten letter is a fresh, human heart, so red and wet, glistening with fresh gore, that it almost appears to be beating through the still stock photos taken by Field Operations upon first discovery.

Due to your increased status, you are granted clearance to read this month’s note before any other department can get to it. Ieiri is absent from the Forensics office when you rush off the elevator to the sixth floor. One of the interns retrieves the file for you, and you are equal parts eager and terrified to scan its plastic-encased contents.

My Dearly Beloved,

Aimless admiration has thus far sated my yearning soul. Seeing you eat well every day fills my spirit with a sense of completion. I am at ease to watch over you and ensure your wellbeing. But there has been a disturbance. I can feel your increased awareness, like a child opening its eyes to the world for the first time. Coupled with this awareness is a newfound distance between us. Things were going so well. Why now? Why pull away? This can’t be because of me. It must be someone else.

I think I know who.

What must I do to regain your undivided attention? How can I reclaim your primary affections? To experience even an inch of separation, a millimeter of remove, is for my body to undergo countless agonizing deaths.

Will you pay attention to me?

Will you notice me?

Will you choose me?

Look at me.

Look at me.

Look at me.

I serve my beating heart up on a platter just so that your gaze might befall it for the barest of breaths.

Recent events have shown me that I cannot stand idly by any longer while others sneakily and deliberately encroach on our relationship. I’m getting restless. I’ve been waiting quite patiently. Are you as antsy as I am? Soon, you’ll know me as all that I am.

I miss you. I see you every day and I miss you. Come back to me.

Before it’s too late.

[mysicklove]

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋!

DAY 18: DRY ORGASM

With: Yuuta Okkotsu

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Sub! Yuuta, gn! reader, multiple orgasm, sorta mentions of cnc? idk, "breeder balls" are used in a silly goofy way, pregnancy mentioned, yuuta cums a total of six times, unrealistic portrayal of dry orgasms.

A/N: i almost named this fic breeder balls just to mess with all you guys. kinktober is driving me crazy

“It will be fun. C’mon, just trust me!” You tease, pressing kisses along Yuuta’s neck while he sighs. You sit behind him, hands resting on his stomach while you continue to pepper kisses along his neck. One of his weaker points. 

He lets out a shaky breath and then whines gently. “I don’t know…I-It sounds kinda scary.”

“Aw, scary? C’mon, my big, strong, sorcerer boyfriend isn’t afraid of anything,” You quip, teeth grazing his pale skin when you smile into his back.

 Your hands begin to roam up and down his body, and he gulps but doesn’t stop you. He does let out a noise of complaint about your choice of words though. “Yknow that isn’t true,” He mumbles out, pouting slightly. 

You pinch his nipples, and he lets out a high-pitched squeal before turning to you with a half-hearted glare. “Sorry, they are too cute.”

He sighs, slumping against your chest and closing his eyes. “You're the worst.”

“Aw, you don’t mean that. You love me.”

He glances at you before rolling his eyes and nodding softly. Yeah, he did, even with all your teasing.

“Yuutaaaaa,” You purr, getting back to the main point. “Let’s do it.”

He hums, nodding for you to continue to try to convince him. He was still unsure and slightly nervous at the thought.

“You will look so cute. Haven’t you always wanted to cum like a girl? To have every ounce of cum milked out of you,” You bite his ear, earning a whole body shiver from the boy. “Forced out of you. Till you’re shooting blanks.”

That immmediately perks him up, and he cranes his head backward to look up at you with a sheepish grin. He already feels himself growing hard. 

“F-Forced?”

You grin.

“No more! No more! Please!” He screeches, tears and drool coating his face and falling onto the sheets below him. He was heaving, and he feels like every inch of his body was covered in cum. His thighs and stomach were so sticky, and he was unbelievably sweaty.

Shaky legs try to crawl forward, away from your tortuous hands, but he ultimately fails. You use one arm to grab him by the waist and pull him back. “Where do you think you are going?”

He lets out a pathetic “Noooo!” as his fingers drag along the sheets back toward you. His thighs shake as he tries to hold his body up, and he buries his face into a pillow. 

You hum to yourself, sitting cross-legged and fully clothed, contrasting your lover’s naked body. His knees straddle your legs, giving you a perfect sight of his ass and easier access to pull him back whenever he tries to crawl away.

His thighs, stomach, balls, and even your hand were coated with his cum, and is beginning to dry up from how long its been. But nevertheless, your hands continue to work at his cock, pulling it slightly downward so that it hangs between his open legs. 

Yuuta lets out a choking noise, a mix between a gargle and a yelp, and suddenly he is cumming again. He doesn’t say anything as his orgasm comes crashing upon him again, but you weren’t surprised – he went borderline nonverbal after the third one. 

His chest rises and falls with his rapid breathing, and you watch his whole body tense up. His tears stain the pillow, and his mouth hangs open in a silent scream. The only thing that showed that he was in pleasure was the way his nails dug into the sheets as if he wanted to tear them apart from how intense the sensation was.

You frown through it all, and watch two globs of cum slide down your finger. His legs give out, and he begins to slump on the bed, but you are quick to grab him and hold his waist up with your arm. “Am I–Did I? Are we d-done?” He stutters, his voice raw from his previous screams and cries. You hear him sniffle and watch the way a shaky arm rubs at his nose.

You lightly slap his thigh. “Nope. Almost there, Yuuta! The next one will definitely be dry. Think I got the last couple of drops,” You say, pointing to his cum staining your hand. 

He looks up at you with wide, fearful eyes and starts squirming in your hold. “No! I can’t go anymore. A-And you said that the last couple of times!” He screeches, legs kicking out like a toddler throwing a tantrum, trying desperately to run away from your hold.

Your hands remain on his waist, and you move your body aside so that he doesn’t accidentally kick you with his frantic, panicked movements. His dick was raw at this point, and every muscle was trembling. He couldn’t go again – he was exhausted, completely pushed to his limits.

“Hey, hey, hey. Relax. This time I'm really sure! How many times have you ejaculated?” 

He pauses for a moment, gulping as he thinks back to the previous events. “I think after that…Five times?”

You giggle at him, and the sound makes him tense up. Whenever he is put in these positions, and you laugh, it never is a good sign for him. “Woah, Yuuta, you really have a lot of cum stored up. I’ve heard that most men go dry after their third one…Don’t tell me your pent up?” You babble, passing time to hopefully let his body rest for a moment. Overstimulating him would probably kill the dark-haired boy. 

He sniffles again, and then furrows his eyes and turns back toward you. “Im not, though. Came two days ago, remember?”

You think back to the night and chuckle fondly. “Yeah, I guess your right. Guess my lovely boyfriend just has breeder balls.” You laugh at yourself from the ridiculous word.

His mouth hangs open at your crude words, and he turns a bright shade of pink. Immediately, he tries to scramble out of your hold again, but you just laugh at his flustered noises. “Why would you say something like that? So embarrassing…And no, I don’t,” Your boyfriend complains, shaking his head back and forth to execute his point.

You hum to yourself, content that he has finally calmed down again, at least enough to put up and actively respond to your teasing words. 

“Bet you could get any girl pregnant,” You continue to coax, mind drifting off from your words to return to your original motive. You begin to situate yourself again, hands moving back to the task at hand. 

“Stop it, please! It’s so,” He groans into the pillow, unaware that you have begun to stand up. “I don’t know! Just sto–” Suddenly, his head is being forced into the pillow, and your hand is back onto his cock. Your movements are rough and fast, and his whole body seems to short-circuit.

Yuutas eyes widen as he feels the back of your hand pin his head into the pillow, and he feels your hands wrap around his dick again. He doesn’t even have time to react, except for a surprised yelp. By the time his brain catches up to the sensation, you have already palmed him four times now, and he is so sensitive. “W-Wait!” He begs, tears resurfacing. 

The sound of your hand wrapping around his red cock is lewd. Loud squelching sounds fill the room, and he knows that the wetness is from his previous cum. It makes your head spin, and Yuuta wants to die from embarrassment. 

Your hand finally lets go of his neck, and he pulls away immediately, gasping out for air. His back arches, and he begins his clawing at the bedsheets again. “F-Fuck,” Your lover whimpers, tears free streaming again. 

His cock feels raw by now. Five orgasms in a row was an insane amount to him. The farthest he had gone before this was three, before he was forced to call it quits, or else risking him passing out. Right now, his mind seemed to be melting from the harsh feeling. 

You have to support his body still by hoisting his hips upward. His forehead touches the sheets, and his bangs cover his face as he looks downward. It was almost disappointing that you couldn’t see his pretty expressions, but from what you could see by his sporadic movements, Yuuta was crumbling. 

It hurt. Your hands were too rough. The pace was too intense. He can’t think anymore. His mouth hangs open, and his tongue threatens to loll out. All he can hear is your hands and his cum, and honestly, although he hates to admit it, it was spurring him closer to his orgasm.

Just one more. He can do that. He can cum one more time. Everything in him pleads for it to be dry, because he may seriously die if he has to go a seventh round. 

So, with everything in him, he begins to grind into your hand, trying to coax his orgasm to come quicker. He lets out a silent scream, and he furrows his eyes shut but doesn’t stop fucking back into your hand. 

You watch with amusement at the trembling boy’s movements. He was trying his best, and it was honestly quite cute. Just for him, you pick up the pace of your hand movements. 

The reaction to it is immediate – the muscular body curls over on itself as he heaves. You bring him closer to you, now using both hands to jack him off, hoping he doesn’t collapse just for a couple more seconds.

Yuuta’s eyes roll back, and he can faintly hear your encouragements. “C’mon, love. Just one more. Cum for me one more time.” 

He bites onto the pillow and nods his head, unable to give you a reply. He can feel his orgasm approaching, and frankly, it scared him. It was going to be a strong one, he could tell, and he was unsure if his body was able to take it. He was already shaking at this point, could his muscles really constrict one more time? He could barely hold himself up.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, because his orgasm hits him out of the blue. For the first time since his second orgasm, Yuuta screams into the pillow. His thighs come squeezing together, and his fingers dig into anything they can grab. Tears continue to rush down his face, and he tries his best to breathe.

His knees come forward, and accidentally, he raises his hips higher into the air, creating a pretty arch in his back. You watch, mesmerized by the show, and then glance at his cock.

Not a single drop of cum is let out. You grin, and rub his thighs, coaxing him through it all, proud of him.

He slumps against the bed and this time you let him. Then, he very slowly turns to you, eyes cloudy. “I–I?” He tries, brain not catching up with him.

“Yep, good job. Came dry. I’m so proud of you.”

He gives you a lazy, but satisfied grin, nodding slightly. You crawl over to him, sitting down next to his head. He places his near-limp hand on your knee, and you hold onto it. “Guess…Guess I–No breeder balls for me,” He mumbles in full seriousness, as if he is proud of the fact.

You have to cover your mouth to refrain from laughing too loud. You place your head over his eyes, shutting them for him. “Guess not. Sleep, Yuuta.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He falls asleep not even a minute later. You don’t blame him.

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[adanfore]

Men who fuck smooth, hard, deep аnd most importantly: slow.. They make sure they dont bruise you inside just so you both would be able to experience this all over again tomorrow.

They’d love kissing your neck extremely sensually, maybe even leaving hickeys on you sometimes.

So tender with their grasp on your body, feeling you up everywhere just to feel that hot skin-to-skin contact between you two, your deep bond is all that matters to them (and of course making you feel good every day)

Unless theyre mad as fuck, then theyll absolutely destroy you (unless you dont want that.).

Genshin: Diluc, Tighnari, Albedo, Zhongli, Thoma, Kazuha

Kny: Giyuu, Rengoku, Gyomei

JJK: Yuuta, Geto, Nanami

[chwocolatte]

♪ 𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓲𝓯𝓾𝓵 𝓫𝓸𝔂 𝄞♭♪ . .

yūta okkotsu x reader ﾉ sfw — domestic fluff ﾉ features a sweet doting reader . . (⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄ ·̭ o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝) ﾉ reader is admiring yūta’s handsum self ( a hundie percent warranted hehe ) ﾉ lottsa lottsa smoochies between reader ‘n yūta . . ﾉ ‘princess’ used as a petname tew refer tew reader ﾉ vrrie yumeshippie coded ‘n self indulgent . .

ohhhh . . . nu words cld ﾉ possibly ﾉ b adequate enough tew describe da sheer gorgeousness of yūta . . i did try m’ vrrie best but .ᐟ .ᐟ he is simply tew beautiful fwor mi tew paint wif jus words alone . . (⸝⸝⸝ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ⌑ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀⸝⸝⸝) doesnt he shine sho pwettily ⭐️ .ᐣ

twinkling like a thousand stars, your eyes shine with a brilliance that could rival the cosmos, the universe itself. you are captivated within his gaze, the pools of cerulean that peer into your own. they hold abundant affection, the adoration evident in the way he regards you, the ardour a tangible thing.

gazing upon his visage, it's easy to lose yourself in the ethereal beauty that is his features. they are sharp, chiselled to perfection, a masterpiece of the gods, an effigy carved from marble. how could anyone compare?

yuuta may be considered average to some, but to you, he is a paragon of celestial splendor. he's the epitome of beauty, the pinnacle of perfection. a small pinch of his essence could send the most stoic of individuals into a frenzy, their minds clouded with the fervour that is him.

to put it simply, the young man is an angel in your eyes. an angel in every sense of the word. the term 'beautiful' fails to encapsulate the full extent of his splendor, the magnitude of his radiance and the depth of his ethereality. but it's all you have to describe him, and so you use it anyway, the adjective a pitiful attempt at expressing the immensity of your devotion.

“beautiful…”

the whisper leaves your lips in a reverent breath, and the sound of it causes the young man to flush a lovely shade of red, the tinge rivalling the vermillion hue of a rose. a shy smile plays at the corners of his mouth, and his teeth are a flash of pearly white as he laughs bashfully. the sound is melodious, a symphony of harmonies that reverberates throughout the room, the tune a cacophony of bells and chimes.

the flush reaches the tips of his ears, and the colour bleeds down the column of his neck, the sight reminiscent of a summer sunset. you can't help but reach out, the desire to stroke his flesh an undeniable pull. and so you do. your digits graze the planes of his visage, the contact feather light and delicate, a whisper against his skin. a lean in to your touch, a pause, a deep breath, and then…

he sighs contentedly, his eyes fluttering shut, the lids a curtain that shrouds his irises— twin windows to his soul. he leans further into your palm now, his profile nuzzling your hand, the gesture tender, loving. a silent plea for more.

and who are you to deny him?

mapping out the contours of his face, you commit each feature to memory, snapshots of him immortalised in your mind.

soft like a dream, his complexion is smooth beneath your fingertips, the texture akin to satin, the skin a silken sheet. his lashes are dark and full, a lush canopy of sable strands that fan out prettily, a feathered brushstrokes against his cheeks. they tickle you— oh, but not as much as the faint cupid’s bow that swiftly steals a kiss from your fingers does, a chaste peck that has you giggling like a fool. the sensation is fleeting, yet the effect lingers, leaving the pair of you smiling fondly.

it's a moment so intimate, the pair of you cocooned within a bubble of your own making, the rest of the world fading into obscurity that a part of you wishes to preserve it. to freeze time, to capture this precious fragment of life and etch it into your soul.

simple, yet exquisite, memories such as these are worth their weight in gold. they're treasures, and you want nothing more than to hoard them, to stow them away in the recesses of your mind, a gallery of cherished remembrances.

with a gentleness that speaks volumes of your feelings, your fingers dance until they meet their destination, the pad of your thumb brushing against his plump lower lip.

the flesh is velvety and inviting, and you can't resist the temptation. you give in, and, with a slight nudge, part his lips, your thumb slipping into the crevice, a small breach, before standing on your tippy toes, feet rising to meet him.

the miniscule space between the pair of you closes, and your breaths mingle, the air shared between your bodies, the heat radiating off of his person and seeping into your own. your nose is a hairsbreadth away from his own, the distance almost non-existent. and, in a moment so quiet and fragile, the tension so palpable it could be slit with a knife, you share a breath.

one, two, three… the beats pass in a pregnant pause. then, with a swiftness that belies his previous timidity, yuuta swoops down, taking your mouth into his.

confectionery sweet and sugar coated, the kiss is a concoction of love and longing, a decadent delicacy you can't seem to get enough of. the taste of him is a nectarine bliss, the sensation a pleasure akin to none. so special, so unique, you doubt there could be anything in this world that could compare.

you indulge yourself, drinking your fill, savouring the flavour of your loved one, the ambrosial treat a luxury. it's a sweet surrender, the submission a mutual one, gooey strings of honeyed saliva connecting the pair of you when you pull away, your bodies clearly unwilling to part.

however, the need for air wins out, and you reluctantly withdraw, the loss keenly felt. a whine, high pitched and petulant, escapes your throat— a child's tantrum, albeit an admittedly justified one.

the separation is a temporary one, though, and you're quickly pacified when peppered across your face are a barrage of kisses, the sticky film of his saliva sweeping over your skin as if to paint a picture. his mouth is an artist's brush, the tip dexterous as it dabs a mélange of imaginary pigments upon your features.

the final kiss lands squarely on your nose, a dot. the finishing touch makes the button twitch, the appendage quivering with a tingle, and the sound that leaves you is an amalgamate of laughter and giggles.

the pair of you are a mess, your visages smeared with the evidence of your affections. and, by the heavens, do you love it. the attestation of his infatuation is a badge of honour, the smudgy slaver a token of his regard. you don't dare to wipe it away. rather, you wear it with pride.

who could blame you? surely not him, judging by the grin he sends your way.

so dazzling, the beam is blinding, the brightness of it akin to that of the sun itself. it's a sight you would die a thousand times to behold.

"you really are the most beautiful boy, yuu.." the compliment tumbles from your mouth unbidden, truthful and raw. your words are nothing but an echo of your thoughts, an unconscious murmur of the musings that occupy your headspace.

"not as beautiful as you are, princess.. not even close." his response is immediate, spoken with that simper of his, the curl of his lips so pretty and soft.

in preparation for a protest, your mouth opens, the objection ready on the tip of your tongue, but a single finger to your lips is all it takes to silence you. a pout forms at the contact, the expression a puerile pucker.

"let me love you." the plea is a soft thing. "let me love you like you deserve. let me love you.. like you love me." yuuta repeats, a quiet request. his tone is a beseeching, the desperation written clear as day across his countenance. it's an entreaty that melts the last dregs of resistance left in you.

so, with a nod, you acquiesce.

you hear a suspire of relief, and then you're swept into the arms of a boy so in love, he's willing to do anything to show you just how much. and as you're carried off into the depths of his heart, the place that's reserved only for you, a singular thought occurs: perhaps, just this once, you'll allow him the win.

for a boy as wonderful as him, there's no harm in giving him the upper hand, is there?

[yuulettte]

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝, 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥

[𝐘𝐮𝐭𝐚 𝐎𝐤𝐤𝐨𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐗 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] [𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲]

"In a world where I could lose you at any moment, I want to make tonight count. So please, give all of yourself to me. For I love you purely. My mind, my body, my soul. All of it belongs to you."

✰Rating: NSFW 18+ MDNI

✰Summary: It's Valentines Day, and your long term boyfriend Yuta Okkotsu would like to take you out on the best date of your life. Just what sort of surprises could he have in store for you?

✰W/C: 5.2k

✰C/W: Oral(Fem! Receiving), Hotel Sex, Teasing, Flower Language, Marriage Proposal, Mostly fluff with a small bit of smut + hurt/comfort at the end

✰A/N: Happy Valentines Day!!! Yuta is aged up to be in his early to mid 20's, sometime after High School. Now do enjoy Yuta being an absolute love sick fool of a boyfriend. Read the 'extra notes' at the end for flower meanings.

"That was so good~" you sighed, sinking into the passenger seat of the car your boyfriend had rented for the night.

In pure honesty, you didn't even know he could drive until earlier that evening. When he'd covered your eyes with both of his hands, your ears tingling at the sounds of his tiny giggles as he led you outside your shared apartment.

"Happy Valentine's Day, my love."

The phrase was said in the same gentle voice that you'd fallen for all those years ago when you were still a teenager. That same soft tone.

Your now unobstructed gaze fell onto him holding a bouquet of Red Tulips laced with Baby's Breath, a keychain dangling from his fingers. He handed the flowers to you sheepishly. Even after all this time of being together, Yuta's humble attitude never seemed to wane. He could buy you the world and still make a face that pleads, 'You deserve more'.

"I thought these would be more to your liking than red roses," he started to speak, reaching a delicate finger to trace along the petals of one of the vibrant flowers. "They have a similar meaning though." Tired eyes closed as a smile came to his features. Cheeks still dusted pink, he went to cup yours in his free hand. He'd done his research early into your relationship. What you liked, what you loved; even learning flower language for occasions like this. He spared no expense when it came to gifting you.

"They're perfect" came your response in the form of a hum, head tilting down to breathe in the pleasing aroma of the flowers. Only when you raised your face did you see the car parked behind him.

You had mentioned it about six months ago, how you'd love to go on long drives with him instead of using public transport.

"Sure, it's convenient enough.." You mumbled while you washed that night's dishes. "But imagine all the fun we could have if one of us owned a car! We could go out whenever we want, wherever we want. Like to the ocean!"

It was well known amongst all of your peers that you were rather spontaneous. Always groaning at the fact you had to ask permission before leaving campus. Even now that you were far more mature and grown, you still had that streak in you. Yuta, of course, adored it. Something that had intimidated him during your friendship had become refreshing as the years rolled by. Nothing was ever boring with you.

He followed the trail of your eyes behind him to the fancy looking vehicle. His hand went to the back of his neck as you squealed.

"You remembered!!!" Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. Possibly from how wide you were smiling, or maybe it was excitement. But either way, your reaction was all the man needed to know he'd done his job.

"It's rented, but I figured it'd be fun?" He cocked his head to the side and you stood on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek. "It will be so. Fun." You emphasized your words with an exaggerated pause, and like the gentleman that he is, Yuta opened the passenger door for you to slide into the car.

The ride to your favorite restaurant was relaxing. Your fingers tapped at your phone screen to connect to the car’s bluetooth. Familiar music filled the small space as Yuta drove smoothly, causing you to smirk.

“How long have you even had your license for?” The question was playful but your boyfriend took it seriously, blinking a few times to think before replying.

“I got it right after my 18th birthday, Gojo said it would be useful in case I have more missions overseas.” He said while tapping his index finger on the steering wheel to the beat of one of the both of your favorite songs. “He actually gifted me a car that year too, but I returned it. How was I supposed to accept a present like that?”

The two of you laughed together at your teacher’s shenanigans. Though at times you wished Yuta to be a bit more selfish, you couldn’t deny this part of him was charming. You could vividly imagine him panicking at such an expensive gift, waving his hands and stuttering just like he would when you’d first met. The memory made warmth fill your chest as you watched him from your spot in the passenger seat.

During your first few months of knowing Yuta, the last thing you would’ve expected was for him to end up as your boyfriend of 5 years. He was timid and jumpy, but showed so much will to survive that it made you feel a bit overwhelmed. Maybe it’d started back then. The feeling in your stomach that slowly grew with time and eventually made its way to your heart. It was difficult to pinpoint when you’d fallen in love with him, but he spoke of it like it was the most grand realization.

“I woke up after Ieiri-san healed me from a difficult mission, and you were asleep sitting up, face down on the clinic bed by my legs.” He’d explained after confessing to you.

“I knew the moment you opened your eyes that I was in love with you.” He spoke that sentence without a single stutter. “I’ve.. probably felt this way for a long time before that though.” He smiled oh so gently, and then you knew you were a goner. Instantaneously, you felt yourself melt, and since that moment you’ve been his. In mind, body, and soul you became Yuta’s. Even the slightest touch now lingered, every breath he took became precious, and whatever words left his lips gained meaning. That sort of unbreakable connection; the bond that kept you up at night with both worry and excitement, made even the most hellish of missions bearable.

Because he’d be waiting for you afterwards.

The sound of his voice brought you back from your reminiscing, a smooth and clear chime you’d never grow tired of.

“We’re here, leave the flowers in the back and I’ll help you out.” With a click he pulled the keys from the ignition and got up from the front seat to open your door again for you. Hooking your arm in his, you laid your head on his shoulder for a moment. The familiar scent of his cologne on his shirt’s collar caused your skin to tingle as you walked arm in arm into the restaurant.

Once the two of you were seated you ran your hand across the velvety surface of the table cloth. Taking a moment to look down at the promise ring that decorated your left ring finger. Yuta’s gaze followed and a small smile came to his lips.

“I’ll give you an even better one someday soon, promise.” He mused before bringing your hand to his mouth to place a kiss upon your fingers.

“Womanizer~” You chided, earning a pout from him until you both started to giggle.

Your dinner was spent chatting about mundane things, mixed in with laughter and gazes that stuck for a bit too long. Yuta’s eyes always looked a tad tired. Even if you’d make him go to bed early, or bribe him into taking a nap with you, the dark circles that lined his lower lashes never diminished. Dark blue irises that occasionally almost showed black peered up at you while you ate your dish. Taking note of every tiny reaction with a sense of gratitude. How lucky he was to share moments like these with you. How blessed he was to be the man who had the honor of pampering you.

Teasing your boyfriend has been one of your favorite pastimes since high school. While thoughts of adoration and admiration filled his mind, yours was clouded with ideas on how to get him going during your dinner date. It was only fair. After all, your love was mutual. If he made your heart beat so fast with one upwards glance, then it was only right for you to give him the same treatment.

As the hour passed it was now time for dessert. Yuta wasn’t picky with food as long as it had a pleasing texture. Only learning to cook after the two of you moved in together so he could make your favorite meals. However you’d gotten him to take a liking to sweets by baking for him so often. He swears he’d have gained weight if it wasn’t for how physically demanding his work is.

So when the chocolate cake you ordered arrived, there were two slices instead of the usual one. Your eyes light up, because this was your shot. Full karmic payback.

Once the plates were set in front of the both of you, and Yuta had lifted his fork to take his first bite, you suddenly pulled the dish away with an innocent smile.

“I let you plan today completely on your own, so it’s my turn to spoil you a little in return.” You said sweetly, knowing there was no way he’d refuse. Yuta merely looked around the restaurant with a flushed face.

“Do you mean-” Cutting off his words, you lifted a forkful of cake up in front of his face and gestured for him to open his mouth.

“Just once? Please please please?” You dragged your words out to plead to him, his shoulders straightening at the sound of your voice before he let out a long sigh.

“Fine.. Just once” As he opened his mouth, you rejoiced in silent victory. His eyes closed, not having the gall to look at you during such an embarrassing exchange. It’d have been fine if you asked him to feed you, but this was.. Something he was not used to.

Sliding the dessert into his mouth you pulled the fork from his lips, watching intently as he chewed awkwardly. Satisfied with your payback, you licked the rest of the frosting from the back of the fork. The unintentionally erotic action earning an audible gulp from Yuta before you handed the utensil back to him.

He coughs a few times and reaches for his napkin, wiping the corners of his lips to get rid of the leftover chocolate. “Wasn’t so bad was it?” You said with a tilt of your head and a close eyed smile.

Now back in the car with your arms stretched upwards after humming your praise to the chef, you looked over to Yuta who adjusted his seatbelt a few times before checking yours as well.

“You don’t have to check me, you know” You sighed as he tugged at the belt, giving a satisfied hum after ensuring your safety. “I heard Utahime-Sensei say that improper car etiquette is just as dangerous as curses once though.” He mumbled through knitted brows. “I’m sure she just made that up..” And with that you began your drive home, or so you assumed.

After going past your apartment complex, you raised your eyebrows.

“Yuta, you missed our turn,” You began to say before he turned his head. Deep sea colored eyes that threatened to sink you met your own as he gave you a smile. “I know, just trust me” He spoke softly, reaching his right hand to grip your knee reassuringly.

And with a nod, you did. Watching as the city lights faded into the background of stars, Yuta rolled the windows down to let in the fresh nighttime air. You breathed in deeply and a familiar scent tickled your nose.

“The ocean..!” Your voice rose from the comfortable silence, eyes wide as you turned to stick your head out the window. And there it was, moonlight dancing off the top of the waves. “You seriously..” Swinging your head back around to look at him smiling stupidly, all you could do was laugh as you fully realized just how much this man loves you.

Your toes sunk into the cold sand after you tossed your dress shoes off to the side, your legs moving quickly to carry you to where the water kissed the land. Yuta followed after you, throwing his jacket onto the hood of the car to join you in dipping your toes into the cold winter water.

“It’s freezing!” You shivered and he laughed in response. “Of course it is, it’s February.”

Taking your hand in his, he walked with you along the shoreline. Thanking whatever God that’s out there for the weather being clear. The sea breeze blew his usually well kept raven hair to the side, offering a view you often only saw in the mornings. He was stunning.

Your body couldn’t seem to contain your affection, twisting to suddenly throw your arms over his shoulders and press your face into the side of his neck. “Thank you..” You mumbled the tiny phrase against his skin as he brought his hand to the small of your back.

“Anything for you.. If it was possible I’d find a way to gift you the sea” He spoke into your hair, breathing you in before reluctantly setting you down. “But there is something else I want to give you.”

He moved behind you, turning you to brush your hair away from your face, gently taking a swathe from both sides of your head. “I have more for you at home but I wanted to give this to you here..” Yuta clipped the two strands of your hair behind your head with a white bow, the sheer fabric decorated with pearls and lace.

“It fits you perfectly,” He hummed, pulling the dainty ribbon up by the end so you could see it from the corner of your eye. You weren’t able to speak. The red on your face must’ve been visible even in the moonlit lighting, because Yuta let out a chuckle while he ran his fingers through your hair.

The sound of his laughter sent electricity through you, forcing you to spin on your heel to face him. Your fists balled and you took a large breath in before shouting.

“Marry me!”

Shoulders raised to their highest point, gaze pinned directly onto him, you repeated your question that came out more as a demand.

“I don’t have a ring yet, and I know I’m not the one who is supposed to ask but..” Your eyes started to overflow, mimicking the movement of the seawater. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Yuta, please marry me!”

All he could do was open and close his mouth a few times. Eyes wide and watery just like yours. And then he reached into his pocket to pull out a small box.

“You beat me to it..” He laughed out through his tears. Opening the tiny box in his hand to reveal an elegant engagement ring. Slowly, he sunk down onto one knee and lifted it to you.

“I was so nervous.. I wanted to find the perfect timing but of course..” He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, his words stuttering. “Of course you’d ask before me”

“It’s only fair,” You sobbed out between giggles and sniffles. Reaching your hand down towards him so he could place his promise upon your finger, sliding the other ring you'd worn for the better of 4 years into his pocket. “You always go above and beyond.. I want to give it all back to you in return”

Your words weren’t helping his tears, his other knee giving out below him to fully kneel in front of you. “You don’t have to do anything, just stay by my side. I’ll give my everything to you.” Yuta pressed your knuckles to his lips to plant a kiss on each one. “My body, my mind, and my soul are yours. So I accept, let’s get married.”

With his declaration he stood, cupping both of your cheeks in shivering hands. He leaned down to kiss the side of your face, the corner of your eyes, the tip of your nose, and then finally your lips. It was soft, gentle, and passionate. It was Yuta.

“I’ll make tonight the best of your life, I swear to it” he muttered against your lips, his eyes looking at you with a sense of determination you’d only seen a couple of times.

The first was during the night parade of a hundred demons. The second was when you wished him luck before he left to train with Miguel. And the third was your first time. You felt your heartbeat quicken at record speed as he began to pull you back towards the car. Your pace lagged behind his, Yuta’s usual gentleness replaced with overwhelming desire as he swung you over his shoulder.

“W-Wait, Yuta!?” You squirmed around a bit to no avail, tilting down his back as he bent to pick up your shoes and his jacket that’d blown to the sand from the breeze. “Where are we going?? Don’t we have to go home?”

“I rented a hotel, it’s taken care of. Maki will get the mail for us in the morning” He spoke like he’d recited this conversation a million times in his own head. Placing you in your seat and buckling you in nicely. “Trust me.”

It was the same thing he’d told you before taking you here, but this time it was spoken with such an underlying tone of lust that it made you feel dizzy. The entire drive to the hotel was spent with your hand covering your mouth to stifle any noises while Yuta drew tight circles with his finger against your thigh.

“It’s beautiful..” You whispered, taking in the hotel room your now fiance had booked for the two of you. He put the flowers he’d bought you into a vase before setting down a bag he’d secretly packed and stowed in the back of the car.

“You really did plan everything out to perfection didn’t you?” He raised his head at your comment, giving you a shy smile. “This room was actually my second choice, the other one was fully booked” He sighed, unpacking a few items that you couldn’t see over the broadness of his shoulders.

“Hmm.. I’ll take a bath” Deciding it would be best to clean up while he was occupied, you began to walk towards the bathroom until you felt a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. “Wait..” His voice sounded small. “Let’s bathe together..”

There were moments when Yuta acted like his younger self, shy and unsure. The majority of those instances being with you. If you were upset with him, if he had to leave for a particularly long mission, if you were to take control in the bedroom. Or when he had a very specific want that he wasn’t 100% sure you’d like to fulfill. This time, it was bathing together.

“Ehhh? But shouldn’t we both get completely clean first?” You replied, trying to ignore the heat that began to pool between your thighs.

“I won’t try anything yet, I promise. I just don’t want to be apart from you” Yuta rested his chin on your shoulder, his words sincere enough to make you give in. You gave him the go ahead to run a warm bath, your hands going to start the long process that would be undressing yourself.

“Let me help with that too!” He called from the bathroom over the sound of running water, making you stifle a laugh. “Fine~”

You made your way to the tub, stopping beside Yuta who was kneeling in front of it to check the water temperature. “There, now stand still okay?” He told you with a smile, making away quickly with the distance between you.

Standing behind you, he slowly unzipped the back of your dress. The sound of the zipper making the tips of your ears turn red. One of his favorite parts about being intimate with you was the build up. You knew this very well. He’d take hours undressing you if you were patient enough. But he knew now wasn’t the time for that.

Letting you step out of the fabric that now pooled onto the bathroom tile, he reached his hand to undo the back of your bra in one swift motion. An impressive talent he’d acquired after years of experience with you. He placed the garment on the counter before moving on to the bow in your hair.

This was a new sensation, his fingers raking through your locks as he undid the bowl. You could hear his breath hitch, and immediately you knew it was going to be hard to hold back before getting out of the bath. A tiny giggle exited your lips, your hair now free from the confines of his gift.

“Ahh, it’s not fair..” Yuta groaned, tossing the ribbon to the side as he slid his hands down your body to find your panties. “Why do you have to be so..” Fingers hooking around the elastic of the waistband, he pulled them down your legs. “Enticing..?”

Now it was your turn to tremble. His words never failed to make a fire like pleasure burn deep within your core. A throbbing that only he could bring to your surface, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you. It was possible that he did. He fought every urge within him to get back on the floor and worship your right then and there. Taking in a deep breath from between his teeth, he pulled his hands from your body and began to undress himself while you started to wet your hair.

You sat on the tiny stool in front of the shower head, humming the tune you’d listened to together earlier that night in the car.

“Stuck in your head?” He asked you, pulling up another seat from behind you as he started to aid in washing your hair. Nimble fingers massaging your scalp gently to lather you in suds before rinsing. “Mhm, it’s a good song after all”

Your voice shook at the end of your sentence, Yuta’s fingertips grazing along your spine and then back up to the nape of your neck. “Keep your word, Okkotsu” It was a stern warning. He let out a sigh in response, picking up a sponge to wash your back. “Thought I’d try my luck anyways”

It wasn’t long before the both of you were properly washed and submerged in the warmth of the bath water. Your head leaning back against his chest as you sat between his legs. The both of you were pressed quite tightly together, causing Yuta to let out a small whine at any movement. “I’m sorry..” He muttered when you shot him a look when he couldn’t help but grind into you. “It’s just.. A tight squeeze..”

“That’s why I told you to wait” You flicked his forehead softly which made him flinch. A tiny ping of guilt caused you to press a kiss to the spot, your hand running through his damp hair. “Shall we get out now?”

You swear to God you’ve never seen Yuta Okkotsu move faster in the entirety of the 6 years you’ve known him.

One of the benefits to dating someone as powerful as Yuta was his ability to learn and adapt quickly. He could easily memorize every movement, sound, and reaction he could elicit from you. The way you liked to be kissed, the places you enjoyed to be touched, and the manner of which you wanted him to please you all had their own separate dedicated category in his mind.

And it seemed he was using every last bit of it tonight as he pressed his naked form against yours. Hands gripping the sides of your hips while he moved his lips on your own. Tiny whimpers of his name leaving your mouth in between breaths, the feeling of complete and utter need within you was so strong that it made your eyes water.

“Please..” You breathed out against his kiss-swollen lips, “Touch me..”

“I’ve been wanting to since you pulled off that erotic stunt at dinner.” He groaned into your jaw before he kissed his way down your neck. The mention of your ‘revenge’ scheme caused you to flush from chest to ears, squirming as he planted his lips to your heartbeat.

Yuta’s hands came up from your hips to cup both of your breasts, gripping them firmly before rolling them in his palm. “I seriously can’t ever get enough of this” He sighed, taking his left hand away to replace it with his mouth. His tongue rolled against your freshly cleaned skin almost desperately. Flicking against your now hardened nipple with practiced expertise. He squeezed the other between his middle and forefinger to earn a high pitched moan from you. Your thighs pressed and rubbed together underneath him, head tilting back to serenade him in more of your praise.

“Ahhh.. Yuta.. Don’t stop, please? I love you.. I love you” You repeated those three words until your mind couldn’t string them together anymore. Hips rolling up to meet his abdomen with needy whines. His self restraint was crumbling with every mention of his name, gaze clouded over with an innate need to please you.

“I’m going to make you feel really good now, okay?” He raised his head to ask you for permission to go further, in which you quickly nodded. A smirk played across his lips as he kissed further down until you could feel his still slightly damp hair tickling your thighs.

“Fuck.. You’re so so beautiful, my love..” It was not often that Yuta cursed. The soothing tone of his voice mixed with the eroticism of his words made your hips twitch. “Every part of you.” He traced his finger up and down your damp slit, whining at the way you dripped and shivered under his touch.

Finally letting go of his last bit of self control, he dipped his head between your thighs to take a long lick from the bottom to the top of your pussy. Your all too familiar taste causing him to involuntarily moan against you. Immediately your hand reached down to curl your fingers in his dark hair, your hips moving to feel more of him.

He could tell that you weren’t in the mood to be teased tonight. And he wasn’t either. Here, and now, with your bare body and soul laid out before him, he wanted to bring you to the best peak you’d have yet to experience. Yuta pressed his face against you like a man who’d been starved, his nose bumping your clit as he slid his tongue to lap up and down your folds.

You wondered which one of you was making more noise. Your loud moaning or his lewd sounds of slurping mixed in with soft words of praise between moans? It was impossible to fully understand what he was saying verbally, but you could feel every bit of it. His fingers going to hold you open, wet muscle flicking softly against your clit before he took the sensitive pearl between his lips to gently suck on it.

“A-Ahh-! Wait, Yuta!” You squealed out, hips lifting off the bed to grind against his face while he rubbed his tongue against your most sensitive spot. The coil of pleasure in your lower stomach only seemed to tighten further as he looked up at you with half lidded eyes, groaning against your skin as if begging you to use him.

“Why are you, ahh~ so good at that?” You questioned with no reply, instead feeling the vibration of a chuckle on your cunt before he resumed his task of messily tonguing your pussy. Your eyes squeeze shut as you steadily felt yourself grow closer and closer to finish. Yuta swirled his tongue around inside of you before flicking it back out again to repeat the same motion on your clit. The action caused your thighs to shake, your head falling back on the pillow again as your hands tightened further in his hair.

“Here..?” He mumbled to himself, tilting his jaw to press the flat of his tongue against your clit to press down on it before giving you more soft kitten licks. Of course, all of his assumptions were proved correct. Your thighs pressed tightly to his cheeks, the sticky sounds from you juices coating his chin only getting louder as you whined and whimpered.

He took his hands to wrap around your thighs, holding you tightly against his tongue. “Look at me,” he said your name at the end of his command. Your head snapping forward instinctively. “Let it out, it’s okay” You almost finished right then and there, cursing him silently as you were unable to form any coherent words at the moment. To say such a thing, while doing such a thing, and holding eye contact. No one had guts like him.

“Make a mess of me, I’m yours.” And with that final sentence, and a hard suck to your clit you came undone under Yuta like you never had before. You felt your entire body tense before relaxing all at once as you spilled into his mouth and down his chin. Your thighs shook violently, the only sounds you could make were of his name mixed with breathy moans. Throbbing between his lips, he suckled on you gently to coax you through your orgasm, his hips moving into the bed in time with your movements. He swears he’s covered in pre.

Finally Yuta lets go of you with a pop from his lips, lapping up the remainder of your juices from your thighs in an attempt to clean you. He raises his head from between your legs to give you his classic shy smile, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and then proceeding to lick his fingers clean. “Was that okay?” He asked sheepishly, and all you could do was whimper in response.

“I swear to God, I’m going to get back at you for that tomorrow morning..” You mumbled out with your head laying on his chest, both of your body’s much too exhausted to continue any further for tonight. “You make it sound as though I did something wrong” He laughed, running his hand up and down your back in a soothing motion.

“You’ve grown so much.” A sudden wave of sentimentality washed over you as you brushed his hair away from his face with your fingers. “You’re speaking as if I’m a child” Yuta closed his eyes to lean into your touch, turning his head to place a kiss on your palm. “But you have too. We both have.”

The two of you laid in the soft comfort of the hotel bed, speaking of the future in a way you were both too timid to approach before. Words of a new home, a possible switch in professions, new pets, a happy life. “I really never imagined a day where I’d have this.” He said quietly, staring up at the ceiling with an expression of deep thought.

“I’m actually going to get married..” The sentence left his lips before his eyes went to a ring that didn’t belong to either of you, sitting on the living space table. “She’d be happy for you.”

Your voice came to him with words he needed more than oxygen itself.

“You’re right.” He whispered, a smile coming to his face as a few tears dripped down his cheek. “She would.”

Extra Notes: The meaning of the flowers written about are;

Red Tulips: Passion, love, and lust (yes, he was intentionally slick with this LMAO)

Baby's Breath: Sincerity, hope, and new beginnings (It is often used in wedding bouquets!)

[togenabi]

waking up slow

yuta okkotsu x reader

♡—waking up with Yuta is one of your favorite things to do.

word count♡— 1k

genre♡— fluff, romance, established relationship

aged up characters♡— 18+

content notes♡— domestic fluff, living together, romance, lovers, dating, being late together, no use of y/n, shockingly not a royalty au

author's note♡— this is my very first request from anon! it's a bit short but I didn't want to drag it out too much. I mainly focused on the fluff and the uwu of it all. I hope you like it!

The scent of sheets and the warmth of the sunlight shining through the window are the first things you process when you wake up. The next is the weight of Yuuta’s arm around your waist.

Smiling contentedly, you bask in the moment before shifting to face him.

His eyes were still closed, but his eyelashes flutter and you sense that he’s coming to. You raise a hand to brush his hair away from his eyes. He wakes up slowly as you do, and a lazy smile graces his lips.

Yuuta pulls you to him, his arms firm around you and your nose is hit with a fragrance that’s so distinctly him. You let yourself be pulled closer against him and snuggle into his neck. For a moment, all you could think was how lovely it would be to have all days start this way.

Usually, mornings with Yuuta were rushed and scrambling. There always seemed to be something going on. Something that one–or, let’s be honest, both of you were late to. A meeting that slipped your mind. An urgent call for him. An event or two that you’d both rush to get to anyway, despite already being late for whatever it was.

Mornings like that had their own appeal, of course. Everything, every mundane moment was always made a thousand times more special with Yuuta. Each miniscule second was still greatly cherished. You breathe out a laugh when you remember that time Yuuta had put on mismatched socks. He didn’t even bother finding a correct pair, only hastily shoving on his shoes and kissing your cheek before he was out the door.

“Morning…” Yuuta’s voice rang in your ears. In that low, raspy tone it always was when he had just woken up. He kisses the top of your head before settling his head on the pillow again. 

His expression was so calm; you had a feeling that the two of you would be falling asleep again before long. Fixing the blankets over you, your mind felt hazy as you anticipated a carefree and relaxed morning. Perhaps you could order food for brunch once you properly woke up.

Right as you were slipping into dreamland, however, Yuuta’s hold on you stiffens.

It alerts you instantly. “What’s wrong?”

Yuuta seems to try to fight the sleepiness as he forces his eyes to open. He blinks, looking deep in thought as if he’s forgotten something. 

You felt the dread building in your stomach.

A few seconds of silence passes over the room. You place a hand on his arm. “Don’t tell me…”

He considers his words carefully before speaking. “It’s not... Yuuji’s birthday today, is it?”

“I don’t think so…” You try to deny it, wanting to stay in bed longer. “If it was, you’d set an alarm for that, wouldn't you?”

His face falls. You knew his answer before it left his lips.

“...I thought you did.”

The two of you spring off the bed immediately. The blankets are shoved away in a flurry, with a pillow or two falling to the ground softly. That softness being the exact opposite of your demeanor right now.

So much for a lazy morning, you think to yourself.

However, having been in situations like this makes you fall into a tried and tested routine with Yuuta. Once he heats up water for coffee, you already have the mugs out. You pick out clothes for one another while he brushes his teeth and cleans himself up. He gets your shoes while you’re the one in the bathroom, and he always knows which pair you would want to wear with your outfit for the day.

You’re ready and prepped in record time. As you give yourself a final once over in the mirror by the door, Yuuta goes to grab Yuuji’s present on the kitchen counter. When he returns, he meets your eyes in the reflection and leaves a delicate kiss on your temple.

“You look perfect.” He says, and he smiles brightly when you do.

You sigh, pretending to be exasperated. “I know.” A laugh bursts from your lips when he tries to tickle you in retaliation.

“No, Yuuta! Stop!” Still laughing, you try to capture his hands in yours. “We don’t have time for this!”

He finally relents, but pulls you to him instead. The look in his eyes is so precious, and you don’t doubt that you’re looking at him with the same gaze. You meet him halfway for a kiss, and you melt into it. 

Kissing him was enchantingly perfect, a warmth blooming in your chest as if you were always meant to be with him. Your heart swells up from all that you feel and all that he gives you, but you catch yourself and pull back.

“We should be heading out.” You say, but you sound unconvincing even to your own ears.

Yuuta stares into your eyes happily for a moment. Then he nods and takes your hand as you head out the door. 

“Do you have anything planned tomorrow?” He asks as you both walk at a leisurely pace. 

It occurs to you that you should probably urge him to hasten his steps, but as the sunlight reflects in his eyes in that spellbinding way, you couldn’t find it in yourself to rush this moment.

“No, why?” You reply. He brings up your hand and kisses the back of it.

“I think we deserve a day of just absolutely nothing.” Yuuta’s expression was delighted, as if he was planning something more exciting than just simply staying at home together.

The feeling is contagious, nonetheless. You found yourself grinning at the idea of an uninterrupted morning with him. You remind yourself to try to wake up before him tomorrow, so you can see him in that morning glow that makes your heart flutter again.

“There’s no one else I’d do absolutely nothing with.” You give his hand a tender squeeze as you respond. 

“Glad that we agree on that, then.” He beams at you, and you realized then that the sun would never hold a candle to him.

And so you went on with your day, having fun with friends and celebrating your time with them. But as the day draws to a close, all you could look forward to was waking up slowly the next day and every day after that, in the loving arms of your other half.

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Mira congrats on your milestone!! I wish I was good at coming up with requests… hmm… do you ever get more ideas for pomegranate ink? Maybe a scene of them much later in the future? I loved that fic so much ☹️ I hope they’re happy and living a super fluffy adorable life after all they went thru 💔 (can you tell I’m still heartbroken over JJK leaks) - @yutaleks

── CLOUDS

Synopsis: A snapshot of your life with Yuta Okkotsu, some time after the events of Pomegranate Ink.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Yuta x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 1.9k

Content Warnings: hurt/comfort, kind of angsty, yuta is insecure, yuta is fundamentally different because of what he did for reader, spoilers for the ending of my ultra mega long fic pomegranate ink (which you all should definitely read)

A/N: on this blog we pretend like the jjk manga doesn’t exist and pomegranate ink is canon LMAO 😭 i haven’t thought much about what y/n + yuta’s life after the main story would look like hence why this is so short, but aleks i hope this heals your yuta-loving soul a bit!! ty for requesting and also being like. my first tumblr follower ever i’m pretty sure 🥹🫶🏻

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

Yuta was rubbing his eyes again. He did so frequently — it was a new habit he had picked up, ever since that final battle against Sukuna. They itched sometimes, he told you, because they were trying to see something they no longer could.

Ever since he had brought you back to life, Yuta had been a normal human. Like Maki, he couldn’t see curses, but unlike her, he couldn’t even sense them, their presences nor their effects. His movements were dulled and slow, and he was far clumsier than he used to be. You knew it frustrated him, the blindness, the childish tripping over his own feet when he was so used to having a sleek body that possessed the grace of a jungle cat.

It wasn’t just his cursed energy that had been depleted. His strength, too, was all but gone. His hands shook when he tried to hold his katana, and although he once was able to carry you around effortlessly, it was now a struggle for him to lift you even a few inches off of the ground for more than a couple of seconds. 

He had given up everything for you. You hadn’t understood the magnitude of it until you saw it in action — he was so prone to downplaying his suffering that you all had dismissed it at first. So what if he couldn’t see curses or use his technique anymore? That only meant he was safer.

But giving up a cursed technique was something unprecedented and new. None of you could have been prepared for what it would do to him. Ieri’s theory was this: because a cursed technique was engraved onto one’s brain and soul, the loss of that energy would immeasurably alter one, had immeasurably altered Yuta, permanently.

Once, his memory had been nearly photographic. Now, he was forgetful, requiring reminders about birthdays and anniversaries and appointments. He no longer seemed so deadly, either — there had always been a malevolent aura following him, a sort of viciousness to his otherwise-kind demeanor that made him so frightening, but now, he was so unassuming and gentle that it was impossible to imagine anyone cowering from him like they all used to.

His eyes bore the most significant shift. They used to be a blue like poison, sharp and dark and predatory in an uncanny way, but now, they were faded and gray, sensitive to the sun and entirely unable to see the world to which they had once belonged. He blinked a lot more, too, and Ieri suspected he might need glasses in the near future — not to see curses in specific, but just to be able to see at all.

“Stop that,” you said, pulling his hands away from his eyes before he could turn them bloodshot. “Ieri said it’s not good for you.”

“Sorry,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut so that the momentary pressure could relieve the discomfort. Resting your palms against his temples, you used your thumbs to soothe over his eyelids, kissing his forehead as you did so. “I’m sorry you have to take care of me. You’re the one who just came back from a mission.”

“It’s okay, Yuta. I don’t mind. It wasn’t a particularly difficult assignment; any curses left have gotten so weak that even an untrained first year could take them on and win. We should finish the clean-up job within the year,” you said.

“I should be out there, too,” he said. “I should be able to help. Maki can do it without a cursed technique, so there’s no reason for me to be like this.”

“Maki has a Heavenly Restriction. It’s a bit different than not having a technique or any cursed energy at all,” you said, as gently as possible. It was difficult for Yuta, who preferred shouldering the world’s burdens on his own, to sit back and watch as the rest of you fought and he stayed behind. Maki, Toge, Yuji…even Noritoshi and Elakshi had returned from their trip abroad to help in your efforts. Every remaining sorcerer had dedicated themselves to the cause, so that you could eradicate the remaining curses and then move on with your lives.

But Yuta Okkotsu was no longer a sorcerer. He was a normal person, and normal people had no place facing off against curses, especially when they could not so much as see them. In this manner, he was weaker than even your mother, who as of late had dedicated herself to running a charity caring for the displaced survivors of the Shibuya and Shinjuku incidents.

“I was the second strongest sorcerer in the world,” he said. “Now I’m nothing. I swore I would always protect you, and I can’t even do that anymore. You’re the one who has to look out for me.”

“You brought me back to life,” you said. “There’s nothing greater that you could do for me than that.”

He wrapped his arms around your midsection, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, pressing his lips against your pulse. It was another new habit of his — now that he could not use cursed signature detection to constantly be aware of your continued existence, he had developed an obsession with feeling your heartbeat, that steady rhythm which reassured him that you were still alive.

“Do you resent me?” he said.

“Why would I resent you?” you said, running your fingers through his silky hair. “Yuta, what could you possibly have done that would make me resent you?”

“When you brought me back to life, you were unchanged. You didn’t become weak; if anything, it made you stronger. It wasn’t like that for me. Don’t you find me pitiful? I couldn’t even resurrect you properly. I had to give up so much to do it. You must find it humorous,” he said. “You must think of me as some half-rate sorcerer.”

“Of course not,” you said. “What you did was ten times as impressive as what I did. I had Rika helping me, and your own natural Reverse Cursed Technique, and of course the heightened emotions which fueled Composition. Beyond that, Composition as a Reverse Cursed Technique was designed for such feats. You had none of those advantages, and yet you still brought me back. That’s not half-rate; that’s the kind of thing that only happens in myths and fairytales.”

Something scalding splashed against your skin, and then you realized that his body was shaking in your embrace. He was sobbing, clinging onto you in a rare display of weakness. Yuta hated falling apart, and he hated falling apart in front of others even more, yet here he was, doing just that. He always told you that he was supposed to be the one that others relied on. He wasn’t supposed to be the one that crumbled, but of course, no one could say strong forever.

“Do you still love me?” he said. If he had held you like this a year ago, then his grip would have crushed you, but now, it was you who had to be careful with your power, with his softer body. “Y/N, do you still love me?”

“Yes, how could you question that?” you said. “I love more than anyone.”

“You loved Yuta Okkotsu,” he whimpered. “Yuta Okkotsu, special-grade sorcerer. Yuta Okkotsu, who was powerful enough to save you from anything. I’m not him anymore. I’m someone else. Someone weak and stupid, who can barely see and whose body always aches.”

“Hey,” you said, holding him at an arm’s length, using the hem of your shirt to dry his tears. “Hey, hey, look at me. Are you looking at me?”

His eyes, the soft color of clouds, settled on you. You weren’t sure what you had done to deserve that kind of trust, that kind of affection or devotion, but you did the best you could with it, holding his face in your hands and squishing his cheeks fondly.

“Yes,” he said.

“I didn’t fall in love with what you have up here,” you said, knocking on his head lightly. “Nor here, nor here.” This was accompanied by pinches on each of his arms. “What I cared about, what I still care about, is this.”

You placed your hand on his heart. He tilted his chin to gaze at it, and you took the moment to flick him, earning you a small whine.

“My heart?” he said.

“Your heart,” you agreed. “In all the world, I don’t think there’s any other that could claim to be its equal, and that’s a fact independent of your cursed technique or your strength. I’ll always love that heart of yours, Yuta. There’s nothing you can do that’ll stop me from doing so. Change your name, change your face, change everything else about you — I’ll recognize it all the same, and I will love it regardless.”

“Do you mean that?” he said.

“I’ve never meant anything more,” you said. “I love you for who you are, not for what you can do.”

“You really, truly are sure of that?” he said.

“How many times do I have to say it? How many words will it take for you to believe me? I love you, Yuta, I love you, I love you, I love you. Is that enough, or is there something else you’d prefer?” you said.

“There is,” he said. “There’s something else I want you to say.”

“What is it?” you said. “You only need to tell me, and I will.”

“I know I’m not strong or capable anymore. I can’t promise to protect you, and it’ll be more work on your part than anything, so I understand if you don’t want to do it,” he said. “It’s a terrible deal for you.”

“Huh?” you said. He avoided your eyes, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, velvet box, opening it and clearing his throat.

“I’m delicate now,” he said. “But if you’ll still have me, even in this condition, then…?”

“Are you proposing?” you said. He nodded shyly.

“I was going to wait to do it until after everything with the curses was resolved, but I don’t think I can wait any longer,” he said. “I guess I kind of got caught up in the moment. I’m sorry.”

I wouldn’t have before, he seemed to be thinking. Before, I would’ve been disciplined enough to deny myself that joy until the perfect moment.

You didn’t want Yuta to ever deny himself anything again, though. He had given you everything so that you could have a second chance at life; it was only fair that you spent the rest of that life with him. It belonged to him already, anyways. Every thump of your heart, every breath in your lungs, every thought in your mind…they were all his.

“Don’t apologize,” you said. “It’s perfect. This is perfect. Everything about it is.”

“Really?” he said dubiously.

“Yes,” you said. “Yes, it’s perfect, and yes, I’ll marry you.”

He swallowed, and then slowly, he slid the ring onto your finger, with all the painstaking care of a surgeon. Then he blinked up at you, frowning when tears of your own welled against your lashes.

“Is everything okay?” he said.

“It’s more than okay. I’m happy,” you said. “I’m so happy that I can’t help but weep. I never thought that I could be so lucky.”

You wished that you could tell your younger versions that the two of you would end up like this, that everything would work itself out in the best way that it could, that eventually, you would again find something like happiness. Maybe it was true that you both were different now — Yuta was missing his cursed technique, and you could never again simultaneously heal and fight — but you had made it. Somehow, despite everything, despite all that you had lost, you had made it.

In the end, what more could either of you ask for?

[husbandograveyard]

Thank you for answering my prev one, can't wait to dig in ❤

And meanwhile - to the rescue with another one!

For this serving, could I ask for Yuta and letter K from the fluff? 👀 But no asking Rika, that would be cheating 🤭

Thank you!

Aaahhh a little fluff with this absolute cutie! I hope I did him justice Bas, I did have loads of fun writing this little one. For easiness sake, Rika is nowhere to be found in this writing. Enjoy!

2nd person. GN reader. No warnings, just tooth-rotting fluff.

K - Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Yuta is a decent kisser. His kisses are generally soft and careful, every time, no matter how long you have been together. It’s not that he lacks passion -he has plenty of passion and love for you- but it’s a lack of experience and confidence at first, and then settling into a more casual rhythm. Slower, more careful kisses feel more natural to him. 

While he sets a more quiet and slower pace with his kisses, he’s a great follower and an even faster and greater learner. If your kisses are more heated or a little more rough, he will just as eagerly follow your example, taking in all your emotions and returning them with just as much vigor. 

Yuta loves holding you close as you kiss, his hands are always on your back, shoulders, neck, hips, anyplace where he can hold you and keep your bodies connected. It adds a certain kind of need to his kisses, a feeling of being wanted that makes kissing him always an enjoyable experience.  The very first kiss was a little awkward, planned to be like a scene in a movie, but not turning out that way at all, since life rarely turns out to run on a smooth script. He had a plan, to ask you after a date, having it go smooth, with fireworks in the background, music playing, the atmosphere perfect- 

Instead it was just a very nervous ‘can I kiss you’ right before you were to part ways. The date had been nothing like a movie, but comfortable and familiar instead, and he had been so happy that he nearly forgot that he wanted you to kiss by the end of it. 

The kiss itself was like most of his kisses: smooth, soft, careful, but filled with so much love for you, that it still warms your heart when you think back on that moment.

This is part of my AB(C)-Day event! Click here to join!

[suniix]

i love you | yuta x reader

synopsis | yuta tells you he loves you for the first time before he leaves

word count | 526

note | sorry for being dead. got discouraged from posting bc my stuff won’t show up in tags if i have any links 💀 idk if im shadow banned (how does one tell?🙃) or maybe tumblr is just being dumb.. anyways i kinda gave up at the end idk if you can tell

“I love you.”

His words of affection broke the peaceful air. The trees stopped rustling and the cicadas stopped their summer song. It seemed as though even the world became quiet to listen to his confession.

You could only stare in surprise. When Yuta had asked you to hang out one final time before he left for training you were expecting a sad talk about his journey to becoming a jujutsu sorcerer, not a confession.

The world grew impatient at your lack of response. A gentle breeze started up again, a little fiercer than before, and Yuta’s freshly cut hair moved along with it. You remember the day Maki told you about Yuta getting his haircut. You nearly dropped to your knees in the middle of practice at the news.

This is it! You thought. He’ll come in with an ugly haircut and I’ll finally get over him!

What you weren’t expecting was him to look even better with his new haircut. You didn’t know whether to cry out in joy or pain. Maki could only roll her eyes at your exaggerated response while Panda and Inumaki snickered on the sidelines.

After that day Yuta seemed to carry himself differently. He stood straight and no longer mumbled when talking to others. Yuta’s gentle eyes still remained the same, but now there was a determined look in them. Those same eyes stared deeply into your own, waiting patiently for a response.

You almost forgot you were in the middle of a confession.

You opened your mouth but no sound left it. You wanted to respond, you truly did, but you were scared. Curse Yuta, why did he have to drop something that big before he left. If you hadn’t known this information his departure would have hurt less. You would have eventually gotten over your feelings and moved on, maybe. Now you’ll be forced to live without him, imagining what could have been if you had taken the risk and said something earlier.

Yuta noticed your hesitation to speak and gently grabbed your hands with his. You failed to notice the shake of his hands, focusing more on how cold they were. Was it always this cold during the summer?

“(Y/n)? Are you alright?”

Alright? How could you be alright? The moment you find out your love is reciprocated he has to leave. Your heart ached, already missing him despite him being right in front of you. It felt as though he was miles away from your reach.

“Please don’t leave.” You whispered, afraid if you said it any louder your heart would be forced to accept reality and the tears building up in your eyes would spill.

Yuta gripped your hands tighter. “I’m sorry, but I have to.” He let go of your hand and cupped your cheek. You allowed yourself to accept the affection, nuzzling into his hand. His hands were warmer now.

“I promise I’ll come back, stronger than before, and when I do, I will still love you the same.” He whispered, placing his forehead on yours.

That night your love left, taking your heart with him with the promise of returning.

thank you for reading till the end! :D

[songsofadelaide]

Paraselene

On one side of the coin of fate, Okkotsu Yuuta stopped wanting things ever since he lost one most precious to him, even though it was due to circumstances beyond his control. He decided against wanting anything ever again. 

And on the other side… As a beloved daughter of an age-old sorcerer clan, you often got everything you wanted. That is why you were allowed to grace the stage of many of Tokyo's extravagant places of gathering as one of this generation's most popular idols. And upon meeting Yuuta for the first time, you resolved that this man would be no exception— that you would get him, too— no matter how hard he tried to evade you and your most curious gaze. 

Though admittedly, he didn't try very hard. 

Still reeling from an overseas mission, Special Grade Sorcerer and for-hire bodyguard Okkotsu Yuuta gets roped into a one-night stand with a retiring idol trying to evade an unwanted engagement arranged by her family— and the choice that changes the trajectory of both your lives. 

[An Okkotsu Yuuta x Reader AU one-shot]

cw/tw: female reader, reader is an idol, sorcerer x idol romance au where things are all well (but not really), original characters, no use of yn and instead follows my usual naming convention (I use Otome as a placeholder for yn since it means maiden, which pretty much means yn too), song fic, inaccurate depictions of idol life, fluff, slice of life, some fun until it's not, it's kind of slow burn but maybe not really, mentions of heartbroken gay men because of the stigma, Nana and Soul Eater references, the Zenins are assholes here, too, mentions of the death of a loved one, arranged marriages and family traditions and breaking said family traditions, and a lovely, happy ending (for those who want to know beforehand)— ✦ oc guide here wc: 22.5k

— The boy in the shadows and the girl with stars in her eyes.

"Whenever I look at you, your shadow seems to cast a smile— hiding your teardrops from me secretly, like you always do—" 

Simply put, Yuuta was tired. 

It hasn't been a full 24 hours since he returned from the peacekeeping mission in Monaco that was previously assigned to him by his superior, but here he was with said superior, standing among the audience of a full Yokohama Arena. The lights, music, costumes and stage design were all so artfully made, its calibre unlike anything he had ever seen before— and it was all for the graduation of the centre of sensational idol group Rose Gold. 

"See her? The one in the sparkling red dress."

The boy with dark eyes followed his teacher's steady and slender finger as he pointed at the bright stage just mere steps away from where they were standing in the audience. 

There were five girls in total, but his eyes were drawn to the very same one the older man was pointing at.

"The centre?" He responded, squinting at the brightness of the stage to help his vision adjust and focus on the figure happily waving in the middle, all spotlights on her as she moved her glossy lips to sing to the audience. 

"Hope always may be found in the water's evidence— The loneliness of silence, oh, yes, I know that well, too—"

Pretty, he thought to himself as he was allowed a moment to rest his eyes on you.

"And do you see that thing over there?" His teacher then pointed overhead, just above the steel truss holding all the colourful lights illuminating the stage. Yuuta saw the shadow of a cursed spirit hovering above the centre of the performance, the girl in the sequined dress seemingly sparkling on stage and unaware of the danger that loomed over her. 

But dense, he shook his head. "All right. I know what to do." 

"Then the future starts to move, racing on— Open up the door! It's what you're searching for…"

"E—motion!" The enthusiastic crowd sang along, followed by the flickering of thousands of multicoloured light sticks illuminating the arena even further, like twinkling stars reflected in the inky ocean waves. 

"Suddenly, I know this sky— It's the one that's in my dreams! So anxiously, my heart resounds, passionate and warm!"

Yuuta quietly got up from his seat and shuffled out of the audience, seemingly disappearing backstage with his blade concealed under his jacket. He walked unnoticed, melting into the background as the melodious song filled the still air.

"Secretly, I long to repeat these dreams I had of you… So quietly, just close your eyes and hold me in your arms!" 

The blood rushing through your ears and the heavy pounding of your heart flooded your senses as the final bow call started, wet palms taking wet palms as your group granted your most grateful audience a graceful bow in unison. You could only look up in anticipation as the spotlights drew to a close, the dark energy you had been keeping an eye on for days just gone. 

And how odd it was that it just vanished after it metastasised into something you knew you couldn't do anything about if it went berserk all of a sudden. 

As your fellow idols shuffled off the stage to prepare for the after-concert handshake event, you stood there pondering the events of this show and the disappearance of the cursed spirit that had been plaguing you for weeks, the ache in your feet from the high heels you wore going unnoticed until your manager called your attention. 

Kagomura Sana was one of the few adults you trusted at your talent agency. Rose Gold was composed of five girls— each one with their own manager who reported to the group's main handler, whom you only know as Kyou-san. You didn't care much for the other managers or for Kyou-san, but Sana was someone special to you— she knew you and your peculiar circumstances, and why you were graduating at the height of your group's success.

"Otome! It's Gojo-san! He's here to see you!" 

Snapping out of your reverie, you were approached by two figures, the more familiar one flashing his million-dollar smile at you, bright blue eyes concealed under a pair of darkened sunglasses. In his hands was a bouquet of soft pink roses that added an even softer splash of colour to the exquisitely made crimson dress you were wearing. 

"Yo, ojou-chan!"  

"Satoru nii-san!" You beamed at him like you were still onstage, your arms open to receive the blooms bundled in white and pink crepe paper. "Thank you for coming, even though I know Kazu nii-san asked for your help with that, um, thing…" 

"Oh, that?" Gojo Satoru raised a thoughtful hand to his chin. "Your brother mentioned it, but we didn't expect it to grow that huge. Either someone's super mad or super obsessed with you."

"Or both," you groaned, cradling the flowers close to your chest. "But still, I must thank you for handling that thing in a… clean way. Anything other than that would have spooked everyone onstage and would have caused a scene…" 

"You should be thanking him," the older man jerked his thumb at the younger man standing behind him. "This is his mission, after all."

"I see," you replied with a nod, curiously peering over Satoru's right arm. "Then I must thank you for exorcising that curse, jujutsu-shi."

The younger sorcerer was slightly startled by your approach, even more so when you extended your finely manicured hand for a handshake, your wrist bejewelled with frilly bracelets adorned with fine plastic crystals. 

"It's no problem," said Yuuta. His smile was that of someone not entirely sure what he should do, but he gently took your hand in his and gave it a short shake. 

It was your turn to be surprised when you realised it wasn't another old man with Satoru, but a young sorcerer around your age instead. "O-Oh! I-I didn't know you were just a boy! I thought Satoru nii-san brought another old man like him again."

"Hey! I'm not that old!"

Yuuta saw the abundance of stars in your eyes as you nervously smiled and rambled at him, not at all minding how you grasped him with a sweaty hand. His teacher's rant faded into the air as he mustered a small smile. There was an assortment of equally sparkling jewellery and adornments on your pulled-up hair and right now he was unconsciously thinking you were just as pretty up close as you were on stage earlier. 

"Now that the two of you have been introduced, we should get down to business," Satoru started. "Yuuta's been tasked with searching for the one responsible for all these curses, ojou-chan. I know you have your ever-faithful guardian Yohan-san with you, but Yuuta will stick around to look after you as well."

"I suppose nii-san petitioned this to the magic school," you said with a sigh, only to brighten up with a smile as you clutched the younger man's hand even closer. "Yuuta-san, isn't it? You must allow me to treat you as thanks."

"No worries, ojou-san," he replied, echoing how his superior addressed you before softly gesturing to your sparkling outfit. "But won't you have a hard time moving around?"

His assumption elicited an even softer laugh from you. You graciously gave him your name before finally replying. "I won't go out like this, of course. I must apologise in advance, though, as I still have my final handshake event to get to. It may take some time…"

"Please don't worry about it," the young man reassured you. "It's my duty to keep you safe while you're still on the clock, so…"

—

You never really believed in the saying less is more, especially when it came to style and costumes. The popular idol group Rose Gold is known for its breathtaking and extravagant imagery that drew audiences of all ages from inside and outside the city. Apart from the idols' superb skills, their costumes by the head costume designer Irino Izuna, are often praised for their fine craftsmanship and her specific attention to detail. 

As a former idol herself, she found it a pleasure to dress those with star potential. Rose Gold was named after a precious metal, after all. For Izuna, more is better, and it became the group's principle.

This would be Izuna's final year as the group's head costume designer since she will be getting married soon, making your graduation outfit her penultimate masterpiece. The older woman had long been enamoured by you ever since you first auditioned to become a member many years ago and has since dressed you for every concert, every music video, and every guesting and show you starred in. 

"This one I made especially for you. It would hurt me to see another wearing it, so the group resolved to hand it over to you, Otome-san, if you'll accept, of course." 

"Is that heavy? Let me help you carry it."

Even in your simple civilian clothing, with the glamorous costume and accessories discarded, you still exuded the same kind of vibrance and elegance that made Yuuta rather nervous. 

"Thank you very much, Yuuta-san," you replied, allowing his larger hand to take your suitcase filled with costumes from your fingers. He paused in his tracks when he came in contact with the luggage. "Is something wrong?" 

"There's a curse in this luggage, Otome-san."

"O-Oh! How could I have not noticed?" Your brows furrowed in confusion. Yuuta pulled away from you as you reached for the suitcase once more. "Yuuta-san?"

"You must be exhausted," he remarked. "Can you not sense them?"

"I can, but faintly. Believe it or not, my family is pretty well-known in jujutsu society. I'm… not just some idol, I suppose," you nodded at him. "I believe my brother has made arrangements for you to stay with us for the duration of your mission."

He nodded at you this time, a smile still forming on his otherwise tired face. "I have a week to solve your predicament, but the investigation will be made quicker if you tell me everything you know, like people you suspect."

"Of course. Anything to help you, Yuuta-san," you eagerly nodded once more. The two of you were approached by an older man in a dark-coloured haori, his salt and pepper hair cut short and neat. Though his eyes were concealed under a pair of aviator sunglasses, there was no mistaking the sharpness of his sight. "This is Sakashita Yohan-san. Satoru nii-san mentioned him earlier. He is one of the Koganei Clan's finest sorcerers and has been my guardian since birth. He takes orders directly from my father and my brother, too, since he will be inheriting leadership soon." 

The two sorcerers acknowledged each other with similar bows, the older one taking the cursed suitcase from the younger one. 

"They are harmless at best, something you can easily sweep under the rug if you wish," stated Yohan. You gestured for Yuuta to follow the older man as he led you out of the arena. "Ojou-san, this way, please."

The car ride home was pleasant, but the two men couldn't help but keep their senses on high alert even after the exorcism of the seemingly harmless cursed spirit that chased you wherever you went. 

"Yo-chan, you think we can stop by a convenience store? I want some Yakult…"

"I'll call the estate ahead and let them know that you want some, ojou-san."

The older man could have sworn he heard a small grumble of protest from where you sat in the vehicle.

The Koganei Clan made their home alongside the golden ginkgo trees that lined part of the Meiji-Jingu Gaien, part of the estate shrouded with a curtain due to the perennial nature of the golden tree within the gated property. With a keen eye, any sorcerer would be able to knock on the gates that were hidden from the normal human being.

Yuuta knew that the older sorcerer families had treasures to their names— even yours, whose origins were considered lowly compared to the Great Three Sorcerer Clans. You were welcomed home by a line of female servants in mustard-coloured yukata, the one closest to your age at the very front with a warm smile on her face. 

"Welcome home, ojou-sama!"

You nearly forgot your manners as you happily embraced the other girl. "Marin-chan! Oh, how long has it been?" 

"Eight months to this day, ojou-sama. We're all so happy to see you back home," Marin replied as she returned her liege's embrace. 

Sakashita Marin was Yohan's niece whom he raised as his daughter. Given his close ties to the masters of the house, Marin was given her own task of being your attendant. You did not agree with her at first due to her straitlaced personality, but you soon became fast friends after bonding over the first generation of Rose Gold. 

"Ah, yes. We have a guest, as I'm sure you're all aware of," you said with a smile as you gestured towards the rather tired-looking young man standing right next to you. "This is Okkotsu Yuuta-san. He is a pupil of Satoru nii-san and has been tasked with guarding me?"

"Uh, yes. I will serve as another bodyguard for Otome-san. I-I'll be in your care, then." 

"It's an honour to have another esteemed sorcerer in our home," Marin bowed before him. "Please make yourself comfortable. We will handle your belongings." 

"I'll prepare some tea for you, Yuuta-san," you told him. "If it's not much of a bother, could you perhaps tell me more about the magic school? It's always been my dream to study there, but my family blocked my application to the school because they say it's too dangerous for someone like me to even consider…" 

"Oh, uh, I wouldn't want to impose…" Came his reply as he quickly followed you into your spacious home. "For starters, I was a pretty problematic kid. I have Gojo-sensei to thank for pulling the strings���"

For someone who held a three-hour-long farewell concert earlier today, you still had the boundless energy of someone who just woke up from a long rest. The servants in the kitchen were surprised by your arrival and even insisted on preparing the tea you promised your guest, urging you to rest for the night. 

"I suppose we both have something to be thankful for that weird old man," you said with a laugh as you were both shooed away from the kitchen and led to one of the guest rooms prepared for the young sorcerer. "If you don't mind me asking, what rank are you?"

A single futon was laid out on the tatami, along with most of Yuuta's belongings for the week. His sheathed blade rested against the paper-thin walls while you took your seat on the floor, a tranquil image now unknowingly burned into his mind. He sat across from you and lowered his eyes briefly before fishing out his sorcerer licence from the left breast pocket of his grey jacket. You graciously accepted it with both hands and were visibly surprised by the fact presented to you.

"You're a Special Grade sorcerer! Incredible! I see I've made quite a talented friend." 

He smiled rather sheepishly, a hand on his nape as he attempted to refute your point. "Not really… It's not all good, after all. Having this kind of power."

It was only when he lowered his gaze that you saw the exhaustion on his face, the dark circles under his eyes and a look that seemed to beg for even a moment's repose, only he was too polite to tell you to leave. 

"You must be tired, Yuuta-san. Let's continue this conversation tomorrow," you said with a smile as you slowly rose from your seat. "Please make yourself comfortable. I—"

"O-Oh, are you leaving now, Otome-san?" His eyes followed your movement, lit up by some kind of expectation. "Sorry… To be honest, I'm… having a hard time resting with all of this space. I was hoping you could stay a little bit more to chat…"

You blinked at him, surprised at his sudden insistence. He raised his hands in defence. 

"O-Only if you'd like! But I know you're probably tired yourself…"

"Not at all," you said as you shook your head and took your seat across from him once again. "You know, Yuuta-san, I understand if you feel like your skills may be a curse. Even I… I thought my technique to be my strength, but it made me weaker than the average sorcerer that I couldn't even study at the magic college."

Yuuta couldn't tear his tired eyes away from your leisurely-paced movement, the wave of your legs as you embraced them, the sparkle in your manicured nails, a polish of your choosing, and the tenderness of your voice as you spoke to him deep in the night, with his traditional-styled room illuminated by a single candle. 

"At the end of the day, we are what we make out of our skills. I want to be one of this society's… Well, let's just say I want to help even if I cannot defend myself in battle," you told him with a small curl to your lips. "Yuuta-san, you have the strength to protect many people… Don't ever say it's not all good."

"Perhaps the only regret I have was…" He didn't have the strength to dispute your declaration any further, only enough to start a tale he can't bring himself to finish. "Believe it or not, I had a fiancée before. She was a childhood friend of mine…"

Yes, even with all of his strength and gifts, he was powerless against death itself. 

— A madness and beauty unlike any other.

Sleep eluded you last night, and it was unfortunate that it was made so evident by the dark crescents under your eyes. On the contrary, your hired bodyguard had a refreshed look on his face as he stepped out of his room in his same grey jacket and his blade in tow. 

"Oh, what are we going to do about this?" Marin queried as she fussed over you as you both stood in the hallway. Compared to your decked-out form from yesterday, you were dressed more casually today. "Sana-san will definitely be asking you why you look like that, ojou-sama."

You yawned into your palm, warm tears prickling your eyes as you fought the urge to drive your fists into them, even more so as you saw Yuuta approaching you with a smile. He looked like he had a good night's rest and he deserved it more than you since you weren't careful with your words. 

"Good morning, Otome-san," he greeted you, to which Marin replied with a polite bow before you could even muster a response. 

"Okkotsu-san," she started. "I understand ojou-sama must have kept you up and you gladly regaled her with stories about your work as a jujutsu-shi, but her work as a celebrity has not fully concluded yet. Please urge her to rest once today's activities have ended."

"M-Marin-chan! Th-There's no need to scold Yuuta-san—"

"O-Of course, Marin-san. My apologies. I thought there would be no harm in talking… But yes, we didn't expect it to go all night," Yuuta replied with a quick bow. 

"Nothing inappropriate, I can only hope," Marin concluded before turning back to you. "Otou-san will be here with the car in a bit. Please send Sana-san my regards, ojou-sama. We are comrades in arms, after all!"

"It means they both look after me and my well-being," you said with a laugh as you finally approached the young man, who had a rather confused look on his face. "Good morning, Yuuta-san. I trust you had a good night's sleep."

Too good, he wanted to say. In fact, your conversation from the previous night about his past before becoming a sorcerer lifted a weight off his shoulders for some reason. He wanted to apologise for making you cry because of his story as well. 

"Well, just like Marin said, work's not done just yet," you started, gently psyching yourself up. "Today we're going to my talent agency, Mieux Folie Productions, to say my farewells and get my final paycheck. I suppose that's a good place to start checking the, uh…"

"It's the best place to start, Otome-san," Yuuta nodded at you. "We want to be thorough, even though I can't really sense any more of that lingering maliciousness from your concert last night."

"We'll see about that," you can only say as you stepped out of the main house's genkan, where Yohan waited in the running car.  

Cradled in the heart of Yokohama was the headquarters of Mieux Folie Productions, one of the city's top talent agencies known for producing the most popular personalities of this time, one of which is the Tall Idol Takada-chan. Since Rose Gold's inception nearly ten years ago and the debut of its second generation, Mieux Folie has maintained its stellar reputation as a star-making machine, eventually branching out to produce more talent on platforms like YouTube. 

But Rose Gold remained the agency's pride and joy and ultimate money-making machine, so the departure of one of its prized idols was met with a lot of disappointment.

"Otome! You're here!" You were greeted by Sana, whom Yuuta recognised as your manager. The older woman had a cordial smile on her face, though her eyes were a little red and puffy. As she moved to embrace you, you returned her hold and beckoned your bodyguard to approach. 

"Oh, could this be the rumoured husband-to-be?" Sana asked in a hushed voice as she released you from her embrace.

"Oh, no, I…" You replied with a small laugh. "Sa-chan, this is Okkotsu Yuuta-san. My family hired him as an additional, uh, bodyguard of sorts. He's from the, uh… And he's tasked with the, hmm… Yeah, that's pretty much it!"

"I see, I see!" Sana nodded at you, completely understanding your fragmented statements. "It's a pleasure, Okkotsu-san! I will leave my dear Otome in your capable hands, then."

"Y-Yes, of course, Kagomura-san."

Yuuta could tell from a single look that Sana had nothing but deep affection for you which you happily reciprocated, so she couldn't possibly be the root of that malicious cursed spirit from last night.

"Ah! Kagomura-san has Otome-chan!" Came a voice from one of your agency's many conference rooms. 

"They've been waiting for you, Otome," Sana nodded at you with a smile. "You should say your goodbyes since—"

The door finally burst open, followed by two girls running in your direction. "Otome-chan!" 

"O-Oh! Maho-chan! Nina-chan!" You exclaimed as the pair trapped you in their embrace. 

"Nooo! We can't believe it's finally happening! You're really retiring now!" The blonde girl with pigtails sobbed as she buried her face in your chest. 

"We're going to miss you so much!" The black-haired girl cried, trying to squeeze herself in your chest as well.

"I, uh…" You said with a defeated smile as you returned their embrace. "I'll miss you guys a lot, too."

"Maho, Nina, that's enough from you two," said another girl in a chic bob haircut. "We've prepared for this for a long time now, so don't make Otome sad with all the waterworks."

"Th-That's right! We p-promised Otome-chan not to cry, s-so…" A girl in braids stammered as she shyly hid behind the one whom Yuuta could only assume was the older sister of the group.

As the five of them regained their composure, they got into their respective positions and flashed their audience with one of their killer poses and catchphrases. "Rose Gold shines too! Kira Kira!"

Mieux Folie's staff clapped in wonder and amusement, pausing from their daily tasks to feast their eyes on their company's highest-acclaimed idol group. You stepped forward with the warmest smile on your face and gave everyone on the floor a deep bow of gratitude eternal.

"Thank you very much for all your support and for taking good care of me for the last five years, everyone! I am truly grateful to have been managed by such kind and steadfast people."

Yuuta could only blend into the background and observe. At some point in their lives, your brilliance has touched the people in this company, evident by how fondly they looked at you as you said your farewells to them. Some of them were even crying to themselves as you continued your appreciation spiel. 

"…most importantly, I'd like to thank my manager, Kagomura Sana-san. She has done a wonderful job of keeping me on track and step with my fellow idols…"

And then it hits him like whiplash— the distinct malicious energy so similar to the one from last night. He tried to move unnoticed so he could investigate further, but he couldn't stop his eyes from being drawn to the middle of the room where you stood.

"…fellow idols, my co-stars, girls whom I consider as good as sisters, Goda Karin onee-san, Kondou Shinju-chan, Tateyama Maho-chan, and Onodera Nina-chan… I hope you continue to support Rose Gold as they are now. My absence from the group doesn't make them any less spectacular, of course. They will continue doing their best…"

His trail ends in an inconspicuous corner of the room where a slightly older bespectacled woman stood, and though she had a warm smile on her face, she radiated the same dim energy that only seemed to rebound in the area. His approach was halted by the sound of applause and cheering from the centre of the floor, where the agency's idols were gathered, along with another figure he easily recognised as the Tall Idol Takada-chan, his colleague Toudou Aoi's one true love.

"Oh! Look at this! It's Rose Gold, in the flesh!" Takada happily spoke into the screen of her mobile phone, where she seemed to be live on her YouTube account. "Rose Gold shines too!"

To which you and the four other girls replied with the same cordial smiles on your faces. "Kira Kira!"

"Now, word on the street is that my good friend Otome-chan has retired from her idol duties! I'm sure many of your fans are wondering…" 

"I have family duties to attend to," you replied to her question with warmth and cheer despite being put on the spot. "I cannot thank my family enough for allowing me to pursue my dreams and meeting everyone in the process, but now it's time for me to return home. I hope everyone continues to support Rose Gold and Takada-chan, too!"

"I'm going to miss our silly little chats, Otome-chan, but we idols will know how and where to find you just in case!" Takada happily declared. "Oh, manager-san! Would you be so kind as to hold my live for us?!"

Sana stepped up as Takada motioned for someone to hold her mobile phone for them. Dutiful as ever, she made sure that all members of Rose Gold and the Tall Idol were perfectly framed onscreen. 

"Since it's your final day here, you wouldn't mind doing one last dance with me, would you, Otome-chan?" 

Karin, Shinju, Maho, and Nina nodded at you in unison, while you threw a sure thumbs-up at Takada. "Let's go! Rose Gold!"

One of Rose Gold's oldest upbeat songs filled the air, and even though the agency's staff had seen your group perform countless times now, each one of them was simply bewitched as you took to the impromptu stage, your blocking and choreography as seamless as always.

"I wanna be a viral star on a shiny stage somewhere! It may be sad— But I still a dream in the darkness of my mind!"

And Yuuta was just as bewitched as he followed your every hop and sway, completely drawn to your electric energy.

"A larger stage suits her better, wouldn't you agree?" 

His daydream was cut short when the bespectacled woman posed a question that was clearly directed at him. 

"We don't need a special future! I don't care if it's just fake— Whatever happens, I just want to grab that light!"

"There's no need to be so suspicious of me, jujutsu-shi. You caught me, and I admit my mistake," Izuna stated. "It's true that I was responsible for that… thing, but I didn't expect it to grow out of proportion…"

"Who are you?" Yuuta questioned, the gleam in his eyes replaced by a bloodlust not many people can sense. Upon hearing how she addressed him, he concluded that she must be a part of jujutsu society herself. 

"Who I am isn't important. I want to know what's going to happen to Otome-san from here on out," she answered him. "I suppose you could call me a fan…"

"Walkin' the streets between the junk, but it's a path I chose myself…"

"When she first walked in here five years ago as an idol trainee, I recognised from the very start that she was from a sorcerer family. I suppose it takes one to know one. She was incredibly empathic, after all… But how she managed to convince her family that she wanted to be an idol, I'll probably never know…" She said with a rueful smile on her face. "Her mere presence here was a sign of upheaval for women of our kind. It meant that she was subverting everyone's expectations of her. Because where else should she be if she wasn't going to be a sorcerer from the start?"

Yuuta could only listen, the excitement of the moment drowned out by the older woman's statement. 

"Girls from sorcerer families are only as valuable as the cursed techniques and the blood that runs in their veins. And I thought that she managed to escape that very fate. That's not the case, unfortunately, since I know she'll be married off to a son of one of the Great Three Sorcerer Clans," Izuna continued, her eyes not at all swayed by the other girls dancing alongside you. "I must have unknowingly cursed her… for not even going against her family's wishes for her. For giving up so quickly on her dreams. But who am I to assume such things when she could be doing all of this on her own accord? Who am I to curse her when I'm just a coward myself…"

He didn't know about that detail. Perhaps his superior found it irrelevant to his investigation that he didn't even bother mentioning it at all. Still, for his sensei to miss out on such a vital piece of information… 

Yuuta raised his dark gaze to rest on your dazzling figure. "She has a warmth that soothes a mind so close to jumping off the edge…"

"Right?! I knew I wasn't the only one who felt that way," the older woman replied before eventually bowing down deep before him. "Please… know that I meant her no harm. Like everyone else in this building, I adore Otome-san and the rest of Rose Gold. I didn't mean for it to grow like that. I didn't mean for it to terrify her."

That's a case closed, he thought to himself. Izuna no longer radiated that stark sinister energy but instead now cried tears of regret, her sobs drowned out by the resounding cheers and applause from the floor as the idols flashed their audience with Takada's signature Taka-tan Beam. 

"There in the window in the reflection, I see my uneasy smile— Wait for the day when sunshine puts the spot on me!"

"Otome-chan, your new bodyguard's pretty good-looking!"

You looked up from your strawberry and mango crepe as Maho and Nina made doe eyes at Yuuta, who was seated further away from the group with a cup of black coffee in hand as you shared desserts with the other girls in a cute little cafe neatly tucked away in a corner of the city. 

"What happened to Yo-chan?" Karin asked rather curiously as she stirred the ornate plastic straw around her iced caramel macchiato. For some reason, Yohan was incredibly popular with your friends despite his age.

"Yo-chan is still around! He's been busy is all, with Kazu nii-san ordering him around and stuff…" You replied to the older girl's question. "A-As for Yuuta-san, he's only going to be my bodyguard for a short while…"

"Ooh, is that right?! I suppose you won't mind us helping ourselves to him once he's done with his work, then!" Maho said teasingly, the slightly younger girl amused by your rather panicked reaction. 

"M-Maho-chan! Y-Yuuta-san is—"

You had to admit that Yuuta was pretty handsome, even when you first saw him so exhausted— standing next to that old man Satoru, too. There was something charming about his reserved nature; refreshing, even, compared to the other men around you who always wanted to have their best foot forward and impress you with just that.

"Oh, right! While we're still here, I wanted to talk to you about something, Otome-chan," Nina fished out her mobile phone from her purse. "Noah onii-chan called me earlier this week and said that he wants you to model for one last photobook."

"Really?!" You remarked excitedly. "I'd love to, of course! Noah-san takes the most gorgeous photos of us…"

"Onii-chan said that it's just you, though, Otome-chan. He even has a theme and a date ready and all…" Nina stated as she browsed through her texts with her older brother. 

Onodera Noah and Nina are the children of a famous actor from the 80s to 90s who married a foreign socialite and made a home in Japan. The siblings were no strangers to the entertainment industry, though the paths they chose couldn't be any different. Nina enjoyed her stardom as one of your generation's favourite idols, while her older brother Noah preferred working as a magic maker behind the camera.

The blonde handed her phone to you to read the details of her brother's planned photoshoot— a punk and grunge theme that stepped away from Rose Gold's usual cute style.

[ O. Noah お兄ちゃん 📷: It's a perfect theme for Otome-chan since she's moving away from Rose Gold's immaculately cute and pristine image. It's something that screams— ]

"…Cool…" Was all you could say after seeing Noah's mood board, which was composed of several images of Osaki Nana, the highly acclaimed vocalist of BLAST, a popular rock band from the early 2000s. Her dusky eye makeup, crimson lips, edgy accessories and husky voice were iconic, almost legendary, and to think that a talented photographer wanted to frame you as such… "O-Of course I'll do it! Noah-san has such great taste!"

"Thanks, Otome-chan! I'm sure onii-chan will be pleased. I'll send you the details on LINE," Nina said with a smile as she proceeded to message her brother. "I'll ask him if I come along too, just to assist you guys and all."

"Tell him I can do it tomorrow," you said, surprising the other girls at the table. "I… have to be in Kyoto first thing next week and I don't know when I'll be back, so…"

Ping! Came the sound of the notification from Nina's phone. "Onii-chan says… Oh, would you look at that? He asked if you were available tomorrow. Sounds like he's super excited for this."

"I'm looking forward to it, too," you concluded before happily digging into your creamy fruit crepe once more. 

"Aww! I want to go, too!" Maho exclaimed. "With Rose Gold on break at the moment, my manager loaded me up with so many solo photoshoots and product endorsement shoots that I hardly have any time to slack off…"

"Y-You're lucky, Maho-chan… My manager's having s-such a hard time booking me for anything…" Shinju quietly replied as she lifted her matcha latte to her lips. 

"We'll find you something worthwhile to do, Shinju," Karin stated with a sure smile on her lips. "Best of luck on your final photobook, Otome. Don't forget to send us a copy when it comes out."

"Of course! Thank you, Karin onee-san!"

From across the small cafe, Yuuta could hardly focus on anything other than following your every move. This place is what he would call your natural habitat. The staff there knew your group and, surprisingly, respected your privacy. Rose Gold weren't idols at that moment, but just regular cute girls doing regular cute girl things. You were laughing about something this time, your eyes lighting up in mirth as the blonde girl, Nina, poked your side. Maho, the brunette, stole a bite from your crepe, while the older sister figure Karin was busy fixing one of Shinju's braids. 

He lowered his eyes to his half-empty cup of coffee, feeling somewhat embarrassed at intruding on such a sacred time reserved for you and your friends whom you'll have to part with soon. The feeling was short-lived, however, when he caught Maho and Nina smiling and waving at him while you attempted to pull them back down to their seats. Their giggling filled the cafe even further when he decided to smile and wave back at them. 

Huh. It was his turn to be embarrassed. Maybe he was getting a little too ahead of himself.

A few moments passed before you finally decided to take your leave, giving each of your friends a long and warm hug. The cafe staff politely asked for your autograph and if you could kindly pose for photos, too, which you happily obliged to. 

Yuuta downed the rest of his coffee as he watched the small crowd around you, all smiles as you flashed Rose Gold's signature pose for the photo. They all gratefully bowed deep before you and you gladly reflected their movement, equally grateful for this little corner of peace and quiet in your ever-changing world as an idol. 

By the time the crowd died out and the rest of the girls left the cafe, you finally approached your bodyguard's table with an apologetic expression. "Yuuta-san, I'm so sorry you had to wait…"

"It's not a problem, Otome-san. It's my job to keep you safe," said Yuuta as he rose from his seat. "But don't your friends think it's strange that you have a bodyguard?"

"Oh, no, they don't think it's weird at all since they believe my backstory," you said with a small dismissive wave of your hand. "That I'm from a rich family. That's partly true when you think about it. They don't know about… the other thing, though."

The other thing being your sorcerer origins. 

"Of course. I suppose not everyone can understand that side of you and that side of things. I'll do my best to make sure you can continue on with your life as normal," he replied with a nod of understanding before eventually standing up. "Shall we go, then?" 

"Y-Yuuta-san, I… Well…" 

Oh, shoot. You stammered at him without even thinking about what you were about to ask. His full attention was on you. "Yes?"

This is all Maho's fault, you couldn't help but think to yourself. It was completely normal for idols to sign autographs for their fans if they could, but Yuuta didn't seem like the kind of guy who liked Takada-chan.

"M-my friends and I were… Well, uh, they were asking why you asked… Takada-chan for an autograph," you said quietly before pursing your lips. 

"Oh, that was for my colleague Toudou. He's a massive Takada-chan fan. Here, let me show you his Instagram," he replied with a smile on his face before pulling out his mobile phone from his pocket and scrolling through his apps. "Here we are. Toudou's always present at her fan meets, but due to the time constraints, he's never gotten her autograph before."

You're presented with the Instagram profile of Toudou, @aoisboogiewoogie— and most of his grid showed him and his fanboying over your agency's madly popular Tall Idol Takada-chan. He has photos of him beside her standees, photos of him outside her fan meet venues, photos of him with products labelled with her face, photos of him Takada-chan merchandise— you name it, he must have a photo of it. 

"Oh, wow. I've never seen such a dedicated fan before," you said as you slowly scrolled through more of Toudou's uploads. 

"I'm sure you must have a lot of fans, Otome-san."

"I suppose…" 

When you clicked on Yuuta's Instagram profile, @okkopi, it was just as you expected, perhaps even more neat and curated than you thought. There were very few posts, some with his friends and colleagues, you can only assume, some photos of his meals, and upon scrolling even deeper, you found a photo of a girl. 

Pretty. She had long dark hair and a distinct mole on the corner of her smiling lips while holding up what seemed to be a half-eaten strawberry doughnut with sprinkles. 

This must be his fiancée, Rika. 

"O-Oh, I'm so sorry for going through your photos, I…" Realising your actions, you could only hand him back his mobile phone without even looking him in the eye. You turned away from him, cheeks hot with embarrassment and something you couldn't quite put your finger on. "I'll call Yo-chan so he can pick us up now."

To which Yuuta could only conclude with… "Ah… Did she see that I was already following her on Insta? Was it weird?" 

It was only later that night when you were doomscrolling through your Instagram in the confines of your bedroom that you realised Yuuta was already following your account. "Oh, man, what have I been posting about lately? Nothing silly, I hope."

You couldn't follow back his account without anyone noticing and you didn't want him to be on the receiving end of any questioning messages, especially as to why the recently-retired centre of Rose Gold was following a private citizen.

You switched from your main account, @yn_rosegoldmfp, to another one. "He'll recognise this profile, I think?"

As he was drying his hair after his bath, Yuuta's mobile phone lit up with a single notification— 

[ Instagram: @daysofyn_ requested to follow you. ]

—

Your photoshoot the next day wasn't until the afternoon when the sun's calmed down a little, so you were afforded a slow-paced morning you spent lazing around in the kitchen while Marin was preparing your breakfast. 

"You should wait in the dining hall, ojou-sama. Okkotsu-san must be there already and you normally have breakfast with him before everything else," Marin told you with a hand on her waist. She moved to adjust the crooked collar of your pale blue yukata. 

"Mmmnnggh…"

"Ojou-sama!"

Marin couldn't believe the unpleasant groan that left your mouth as you sat at the servants' table with your head in your hands. You fought the urge to yawn since you knew she would scold you for staying up too late. Her warm hand brushed over the hair on your forehead and you heard her breathe a sigh of relief since you weren't unwell. 

A small knock on the kitchen's wide wooden door frame alerted your attendant, but you couldn't be bothered to lift your head from your oddly depressive state. 

"Good morning, Marin-san. Have you seen Otome-san this morning? She wasn't in her room when I passed by…"

It was Yuuta with the same refreshed and rested look on his face. He walked into the kitchen in a plain white shirt that seemed to hug his incredibly sturdy form. He didn't have his familiar grey jacket on yet, his blade nowhere in sight, too. Around his neck hung a silver chain that glinted in the morning light, the pendant concealed underneath his shirt.

Marin furrowed her eyebrows at him before opening her mouth to speak but then decided against it when your eyes met, prompting the outsider to turn around and face the figure seated at the servants' table.

"Ah, good morning," he greeted you with a polite bow, but you could see his expression slowly change into a look of complete surprise as you rose your head to greet him back. 

"Good morning, Yuuta-san."

"O-Otome-san?!" 

Oh, you got that a lot. Your work as an idol required you to put on a sweet kind of makeup for all of your gigs meant to accentuate your features and make them a bit sharper. Meanwhile, your bare face made you look younger than usual. Plainer, too, probably.

"My apologies… I, uh…" Yuuta said with a nervous smile on his face, a hand on his nape as though embarrassed by his reaction. "I almost didn't recognise you…"

"Don't worry, I—"

You were surprised when he got down on his knee so your eyes would meet, your face heated up once again as he held your gaze with his eyes that were a deep shade of ocean blue. "You must hear this all the time, but I think you're really pretty."

"Ahem!" 

Marin's feigned cough prompted both of you to straighten up. 

"Good morning, Okkotsu-san! Ojou-sama will be with you shortly," she stated with a warm smile on her face. "Please wait for her in the dining hall."

"Of… Of course."

The young sorcerer left as quietly as he arrived, though he was unable to remove his gaze from your already evident embarrassment. He stepped out of the kitchen with a small smile on his face which he covered with one of his hands. 

"Ojou-sama, that's no good. You know by now what your responsibility entails."

"I know," you shot right back at your attendant, trying not to let your disappointment in yourself show any more later on. "I am set to be married off to the Kamo Clan's heir. Otou-sama went through a painstaking ordeal to see that this marriage would push through because we minor sorcerer clans are always at the mercy of the Great Three Sorcerer Clans."

There was a reason why it was always older jujutsu sorcerers who handled missions related to you. They would go about their day without so much as having to talk to you because they had absolutely nothing in common with you. Older jujutsu-shi would accomplish their missions neatly, like walking in and out of a room without having to touch anything inside it. 

Marin, whom you grew up beside, knew every ebb and glow of your face like the back of her hand. She was sure of one thing right now— You were smitten with this young jujutsu-shi assigned to be your bodyguard in the meantime. 

"Besides, it's not like Yuuta-san would truly look my way," you said with a crooked smile and another dismissive wave of your hand. "I… I'm sure he was just being nice."

And that his heart still belonged to a girl already far beyond his reach.

—

When the afternoon rolled in, you and Yuuta were dropped off by Yohan at the Shibuya photo studio Nina sent you through LINE. It was a chic place that made sense given Noah's known straightforward personality. From the way the studio staff warmly greeted you, it was clear that the Onodera siblings Noah and Nina were no strangers to the place. 

"Ah! They're here!" Nina happily exclaimed as you were led to the main studio. Her older brother, who was busy setting up his gear, was equally elated to see you. Noah followed his sister's trail and enveloped the hugging girls in his arms. 

"Otome-chan! Welcome! I'm so glad you agreed to this!" 

"Oh, the honour is all mine, being the subject of the highly-skilled and highly acclaimed celebrity photographer Onodera Noah," you chuckled at him as he smothered you and his sister into an even bigger embrace. 

"Ah, and who is this?" Noah asked, his curiosity piqued as Yuuta dutifully stood a few paces behind you. "Don't tell me you got a boyfriend so soon after you retired from idol work."

"Of course not, Noah-san! This is Okkotsu Yuuta-san. He's my temporary bodyguard…"

Yuuta could only stand and watch as you introduced him once more as your bodyguard in the meantime. He could be called back to headquarters anytime now that the mystery of the cursed spirits hounding you has been solved. 

One of the studio's staff offered him a chair seeing as he won't be part of the shoot, but he insisted on remaining on his feet so he could act much quicker if needed. 

And now that he's thinking about it, bodyguard work is much tamer compared to most of the missions he is always being assigned to. This was something even a Second Grade sorcerer could handle, but his superior specifically chose him for this job. Why that is, he will probably never know. It was impossible to get a read on how his teacher's mind worked. 

As he had always done for the last couple of days, Yuuta followed your every movement as attentive as he could, watching from the corner as Nina carefully applied a shimmery dusky purple shadow over your closed eyes, lined your waterline with a heated eyeliner pencil, and swiped a striking shade of crimson over your lips. 

"Oh! Good job, Nini! Her makeup is spot on!" Noah ruffled his younger sister's hair as he praised her. 

"Naturally! I studied Osaki Nana-san's makeup last night and…"

The makeup was darker than your usual look and made even heavier by the way you lowered your eyelashes, giving you a more mysterious and gloomy yet haughty appearance. 

For Yuuta, however, there was no masking your radiance, even more so when you broke character and laughed at Nina's glitter-tinged fingertips. 

"Noah onii-chan really pulled out all the stops for this photoshoot, Otome-chan. He even reached out to some of Papa's costume designer friends and colleagues to ask for their advice… Though we all know that BLAST's Osaki Nana is such an icon," the blonde girl said as she ran a comb through your hair, parting it in the middle. "I think one of the older costume designers even lent him a few pieces of clothing for today."

True enough, Noah wheeled out a rack filled with various plaid and leather articles, along with imitation black leather boots your size. "I wish we could have brought in some real Vivienne Westwood stuff, though. Our old man's friend was pretty stingy, but we're thankful, still!"

Nina accompanied you behind the special partition assembled so you could change your clothes and get into character. Meanwhile, Noah did some empty test shots while ensuring the lights were all placed correctly. "All right, looks like everything's set."

Yuuta deduced that Noah could be around his age, or maybe a bit older. He was surprised when the blonde boy approached him with his DSLR camera around his neck. 

"So have you been doing this bodyguard gig for how long?" 

"Oh, uh… I've been doing it for quite some time now."

Not really, he thought to himself as he tried to throw off the photographer from his case. 

"I gotta say, you're younger than Otome-chan's usual bodyguards. I know her family's the richy rich kind, but it's so strange seeing one so close to her age," Noah chuckled. "Ah, but I didn't mean to underestimate you! I just thought it was kinda refreshing to see a younger guy accompanying her."

"No offence taken," Yuuta replied with a kind smile. He knew that those weren't bodyguards, though, but sorcerers handling her cases. 

The two young men exchanged a few more words before turning their attention to you, who stepped back out of the studio barefoot. You were like a different person in the leather jacket, plaid red skirt, dark stockings and spiked accessories, along with your styled hair and edgy makeup…

"Noah-san! Th-the laces of the boots are—!"

But as Yuuta said, there was no masking your radiance and your sweetness. 

"Oh, they're still undone from top to bottom, huh? What a drag. Let me…" Noah moved to assist you, only for him to pause in his tracks when Yuuta stepped up.

"I can help you, Otome-san. Please have a seat first." 

The blonde siblings exchanged knowing looks as they watched your bodyguard place a hand on the small of your back and gesture to the seat that was presented to him earlier. 

"Let's put them on and lace them at once," Yuuta stated as he knelt down before you, gently taking the boots in your hands and slipping your stockinged feet in them. From your vantage point, you could see how dark his eyes and lashes were as he tenderly worked the laces through their hooks. "Not too tight, I hope."

"Just right," you replied to him with a small smile. The boots fit you well, even more so with the laces now tied. "Thanks, Yuuta-san."

Nina approached her older brother with a glint of mischief in her blue eyes. "Onii, you don't suppose…" 

"…Yeah, I see it. I see a vision!" Noah nodded. "What's your bodyguard's name again, Otome-chan?"

You slowly rose from your seat while Yuuta got up from the floor. "O-Oh, his name is Okkotsu Yuuta-san."

"Okkotsu-san, yeah? Listen, can you do us a favour?" 

"Sure. Anything I can help you with?"

Noah lifted one of the larger leather jackets in Yuuta's direction. "Put this on."

Yuuta blinked at him in surprise. "M-Me?" 

"Yes, you. Has anyone ever told you that you have such a fine frame?"

"Noah-san means to say your build is… is good," you told him rather nervously. After seeing him in his form-hugging shirt this morning, you concluded that he wasn't just built well. He was built just like his teacher— the finest of their kind.

"Nini, his hair."

"Got it," Nina nodded at her brother before turning to the dark-haired boy with a sweet smile. "If I may, Okkotsu-san? We'll just change your style a bit, nothing too drastic, I promise."

"O-Okay."

"Let's take some test shots, Otome-chan. And don't worry, Nini won't do anything strange to him, not while I'm around," Noah said with a laugh as he pointed at the spot where you should stand, all the lights shining in your direction now. "The stage is yours."

You took a deep breath before getting into character once more, shrugging off a sleeve from your shoulder to expose a bit of your skin. 

"Good, good! Here, I brought these as props. We don't have to light them," the young photographer fished out a box of cigarettes from his pocket and tossed it in your direction. You caught it deftly, only for it to be taken from your hands by Yuuta, who was now sporting a similar leather jacket and a rather large but stylish chain around his neck. His hair was styled with a bit of wax and his gaze was smouldering. 

"Y—"

"I-I'm sorry. I'm a little nervous," he finally spoke, breaking out of his supposed character. "Nina-san said that Honjo Ren was cool and collected, but I'm not…" 

"Y-You were doing well, actually!" You reassured him. "He doesn't smile that much, so…"

"Osaki Nana's story is one of beauty and tragedy, but that's not what I want to capture here," Noah stated as he slowly raised his camera viewfinder to his eye. "In this story, she reunites with her one true love, Honjo Ren, so that is what I want you to do: hold each other as though you're about to lose each other."

A look of perplexion and despondency washed over Yuuta's features— And you realised why.

Wasn't he able to hold her in her final moments?

"Yuuta-san, look at me."

He does so upon your urging, his darkened gaze meeting your sparkling eyes. You placed your hand on his nape, your fingers tenderly grazing the ends of his jet-black hair, pulling him down much closer to you so your faces were but a breath apart. You took his hand and strategically placed it on your back, feeling the warmth of his hold even through your fashionable clothes.

"Yes, that's what I'm talking about," the photographer stated with a rumble of excitement in his voice as he finally started taking photos. The flashing lights didn't faze you one bit, but you could tell that Yuuta was tense.

"It's okay. I'll be the one to hold you," you whispered to him. "Let me take care of you while we're here."

"You can relax, Okkotsu-san! If you're worried about your face showing, don't. Otome-chan is still the focal point here, so your face won't really be seen. Maybe some bits, but not the whole thing." 

"What a relief," he sighed to himself. "I can't imagine the trouble I'll be in if Gojo-sensei finds out about this."

"I'll beat him up for you if he scolds you," you said with a laugh, to which he could only reply with the same low chuckle. 

"Stop smiling, you two!" 

"S-Sorry!" 

Fortunately, Yuuta only had to stand in for a few photographs. You spent the rest of the photoshoot shuffling in and out of the different outfits the siblings planned and styled for you. As Noah signalled Nina to bring in another of his props, this time a microphone stand, you couldn't help but hum to yourself while trying to stay in character.

"Oh, that song! That's one of BLAST's hits, right? Don't be shy now, just sing!"

"Wh-What?! Don't make me sing!"

"You do know that your face is more honest than your words, don't you, Otome-san?"

You shook your head and tried to stay in character, but as instructed by her brother once more, Nina played the song for you to sing along to.

"I could have seen the other side, taking a step into the sky… Ah, I'm always late! I could've done the same routine, showing the old and golden scene— Ah, I'm lying again to make them go!" 

It was cheesy having to do it, but the song evoked so many emotions in you that you couldn't help but try to picture yourself in the vocalist's shoes. In her position. Didn't she go through the same painstaking road of starting as nobodies before skyrocketing to fame?

"Wearing again my rocking shoes over the puddles made of tears— Flashback, I know you're clever! I remember…" 

Oh, you kind of wanted to cry right now. Your idol journey has come to an end, you still couldn't believe it. It wasn't like your path to becoming an idol was easy, yet you knew deep inside that you were born for something else entirely. 

That must have been the reason why Izuna-san didn't bother saying goodbye to you at all. Because you were a coward. A slave to your destiny just like she was. Being cursed was the least of your concerns.

"I know we could cross over rainbows! I wish that we could aim for the sun again. I know we could dream for tomorrow… To share the long-forgotten glamorous days!"

Yohan nearly had to carry you out of the studio with how tuckered out you were. You could tell from his sharp yet gentle gaze that he was admiring this new look on you, nodding at you in approval. 

"Yo-chan!" Nina excitedly hovered around the older man as he arrived at the studio in his usual pressed haori and hakama. "You're still so dapper as always!"

"Good evening, Nina-san," he gave her a short bow before patting her head. "And you are just as lovely."

"Ooh, I cannot wait to tell this to the girls! Karin-nee is going to smack me!"

You groaned in exhaustion as you approached your guardian, your makeup still immaculately in place as you handed him your things. "Ah, I'm beat! I'm so glad you're here, Yo-chan. Noah-san's asking for more photos, but I'm spent!"

Yuuta followed closely behind you with more of your belongings in his hands. The older man furrowed his brows and gave him a quizzical look. 

"Yuuta-kun."

"Y-Yes, Yohan-san?"

"…I like what they did to your hair."

"Oh! Nina-san fixed it for me earlier…"

You bid your farewells to the good-looking siblings, who were still settling their accounts with the photo studio. Nina gave you one last good look before engulfing you in another tight embrace. "Make sure to still call me and message me whenever you can, Otome-chan."

"Of course, Nina-chan."

"Otome-chan, I can't thank you enough for making this dream photoshoot a reality," Noah proceeded to embrace the two girls once more. "The photobook will be ready in a month or so. I'll be sure to send you your copy ASAP."

"Thank you as well for all your trust in me, Noah-san. You two should come visit me in Kyoto every once in a while."

"Just say the word, then. We'll be there."

—

As the car passed by the more familiar corridors of Shibuya, your after-work craving reared its head once more. It was unreasonable of you to ask if you could stop by a convenience store given anyone could recognise you then and there…

"Yo-chan, you think we can stop by a convenience store? I want some Yakult…"

You were ready to be dismissed from your request like he always does, but your heart was thrilled to bits when he decided to park his car in a corner next to a Lawson Store. 

"I'll wait here, then. Yuuta-san will accompany you. Do you have money?"

Oh, crap. 

"I—" 

I didn't think I'd get this far!

Your pause made Yuuta gently tap your hand. "I have some money here. Let's go grab your Yakult, Otome-san."

The two of you shuffled out of the car and into the streets, your face unable to contain your excitement as you entered the convenience store with your bodyguard close behind you, the chilly air making you sneeze all of a sudden. 

"Ot— Ah…" He knew it would be unwise to call you by your name in a public place, so he stepped into your space to gently grab hold of your hand instead. "Don't go where I can't see you, sweetheart."

"?!" 

Your eyes widened in surprise at his chosen remark, which was the quickest thing he could think of at that moment without saying your name out loud so you wouldn't get separated. 

"Excuse me, onee-san? Is this man bothering you?" A young girl in a high school uniform approached you, looking at your bodyguard rather apprehensively. "I-It's just that you looked a bit…"

"O-Oh! Oh, no, I-I'm all right!" You stammered at her before raising your other hand in defence. You instinctively clung onto his arm this time. "M-My boyfriend was just making sure he can see where I'm going. Thank you for your concern!"

Yuuta was struggling to stifle his own laughter and embarrassment at the situation you got yourselves in. He was thankful that a stranger was concerned for others, but you two really should have come up with a plan for such instances. He gave the stranger a small nod of affirmation before leading the way to the refrigerators, leaning down against you to whisper an apology. "I'm so sorry, Otome-san."

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart," you whispered back at him, only to burst into laughter not long after. He gently elbowed you as he hid his face in his hand, trying to quell the amusement bubbling in his throat.

How could you laugh so warmly, sweetly and carelessly in the midst of almost being recognised by someone? It was crazy of you.

"Mmm, maybe I should grab some canned coffee, too? Oh, wait, I'm broke!"

But he savoured the sound of your tender laughter, the softness of your voice that did not suit your moody makeup, and the light in your eyes that seemed to say, things are going to be okay. 

— Chasing a dream.

Yuuta's week-long assignment as your bodyguard finally came to an end. While you contemplated asking your brother to pull some strings for you so he could remain in your service for a while longer, you figured you couldn't hold him at home when there were more important missions for him to accomplish. 

The estate clamoured in activity as they prepared a little send off for the Special Grade sorcerer who solved their lady's predicament. The male servants in particular were grateful for his service. You only found out now that Yuuta not only trained with them every early morning, but even helped out with some of the heavy lifting they had to do throughout the estate. 

"Thank you very much for your hospitality. I felt more like a guest than a bodyguard, if I'm being honest…" 

You were prepared to bid him farewell as well as he thanked your family for their kindness during his stay. As you both waited for the vehicle from Jujutsu Headquarters to arrive, you decided to muster up the courage to ask for his contact details even though you were set to be married soon. 

No, that's no good. You need to gracefully let go of this fleeting infatuation before it gets out of hand. It would be unfair to both him and your future husband if you—

A familiar black car rolled into your driveway, followed by the entrance of a familiar silver-haired sorcerer into your home. "Yo, Yuuta-kun! Ojou-chan!"

"Satoru nii-san!"

The Koganei servants were quick to assemble at the genkan when they heard of Gojo Satoru's arrival, and even the masters of the house made their presence known by greeting him at the doorstep, most especially your older brother Kazuya, who looked both annoyed and pleased by his visit.

"Satoru."

"Kazuya! Long time no see!"

It was a jest, of course, for the two older men only met a few days back to discuss the curse that previously hung over your head. Satoru's nonchalance irked your older brother, the crooked smile on his face slowly straightening out as the silver-haired man walked over to him for a quick handshake. 

"Now that you're here, Kazuya, I'd like to let you know that your request for an escort to Kyoto has been approved," Satoru stated with a smile before eventually turning to his pupil. "That also happens to be your next mission, Yuuta-kun."

You blinked at Kazuya, not at all believing what you were hearing at the moment. "Kazu nii-san, you mean to say—?"

Your brother nodded at you. "Yes, I petitioned for Okkotsu-san to escort you and Marin-chan to the Kamo estate in Kyoto."

"B-But I have Yo-chan with me, too!"

"Sensei, if I may…" Yuuta started. "I'm not disagreeing with this, but if Otome-san is as important as her family says, why is it just Yohan-san and I escorting her to Kyoto?"

The older men exchanged looks, with Satoru nodding at Kazuya to explain the decision. 

"Because my sister will have one of this generation's finest Special Grade sorcerers with her, plus a First Grade sorcerer worth at least 20 men in terms of martial prowess and cursed energy output. I'd accompany her to Kyoto myself if I could, but I have duties I can't leave, and I think any more than you and Yo-san would already be overkill."

Yuuta couldn't believe his ears when he heard of Yohan's capabilities. He never thought that the unassuming old man was that terrifying. If your brother was right, Yohan's cursed energy output would put him on par with the elite himself, Nanami. Or Toudou, too. 

You sighed to yourself. "Well, it's not like there's gonna be a fuss or anything… It doesn't really matter who takes me to Kyoto as long as I get there."

Kazuya furrowed his eyebrows at your statement. He opened his mouth to say something but eventually decided against it. You noticed how Satoru lightly nudged your older brother with his elbow, to which the latter replied with a small shake of his head.

"Shall I have the servants prepare tea and sweets for you, big brothers?" You smiled at the older men. "Surely you must have other things to discuss…"

"Not really. In fact, Satoru was just about to get going," your older brother smiled back at you, a hand now clamped onto the outsider's shoulder to lead him out and away from the crowd. 

"I-I was?" The silver-haired sorcerer could only stammer in response to Kazuya's urging, a confused expression undoubtedly impressed upon his blindfolded eyes. "O-Oi! Kazu—"

You blinked in confusion as your older brother and older brother figure both stepped out of the house, a soundless struggle ensuing between them as you watched them pass nudges and pinches at each other. Sometimes you forget that they are just that close— very much so that your brother manages to bypass Satoru's Infinity. Or was it Satoru who lets his guard down? 

"I see. Safe travels then, Satoru nii-san!"

The tall man was shoved back into the vehicle from which he came from and was unceremoniously sent off with a single wave by Kazuya. "Good riddance. I'm sorry you had to see that, Otome. Okkotsu-san."

"I-It's all right, Koganei-san. If I remember right, you're the second person I've seen capable of manhandling Gojo-sensei like that," Yuuta chuckled. 

"Suguru, I assume. Then again, he has the patience of a saint…" Kazuya uncharacteristically rolled his eyes before composing himself once more. "With all of that said, I owe you an apology for not disclosing our family's plans to extend your… service as a bodyguard of sorts, Okkotsu-san." 

"It's not a problem. I live to take orders from my superiors, after all." 

"That's a pretty grim outlook on life," the older man stated before posing a question about the Kamo heir. "Are you familiar with him? Kamo Noritoshi-kun, I mean."

"Noritoshi-kun is the husband candidate closest to my age. We only met briefly once and he was pleasant to talk to. For that, I'm actually rather relieved," you said with a smile that didn't really reach your eyes. "I'm surprised the Kamo Clan even bothered to respond to my father's request all the while the Zenin Clan had been sending out messages to him, too." 

"We've only worked together briefly, but I can tell you that he's an all-around good guy. Responsible and honest to a fault," Yuuta replied with the same smile that seemed more synthetic than convincing. "You'll be in safe hands, Otome-san." 

"That's… reassuring to hear," you said with a nod, allowing the uncomfortable conversation to fizzle out in order to escape. "Well, I… Marin-chan and I ought to continue our preparations."

That was a lie, since Marin had already prepared everything you needed ahead of time. Yet she understood the look you threw at her the moment your eyes met, and you both bowed before the men in unison before disappearing into the main house. 

Kazuya watched as his younger sister faded into the backdrop of the estate before he eventually turned to the younger man left wondering as well. "Okkotsu-san, if you don't mind me asking, how have the past few days been for you? I trust your needs have been met…" 

"Ah, yes, Koganei-san! I really have no words for how well your family has treated me…" 

"That's heartening to hear. Rest assured that you'll be compensated accordingly for this mission as well," Kazuya continued. "And my sister… I trust she hasn't been troublesome to deal with."

"N-No! Not at all," Yuuta raised his hands in defence. "Otome-san has been nothing but kind and pleasant to me. It's a pleasure to be of service to someone like her."

Kazuya was surprised to hear that from the young sorcerer. Most of the older sorcerers previously tasked with looking after you found you a little bit too demanding for their age and liking— but they all agreed that you were a kind young woman. He expected you to make a bit of mischief with someone around your age handling you, but you were on your best behaviour now. 

Or was it because of the demands your father imposed on you that you're finally taking things more seriously now? Either way, the entire thing was an anomaly to Kazuya.

"That's good to hear. You must have your own preparations to make as well, Okkotsu-san. We'll leave you to it," he said as he casually slid his hands into the sleeves of his hakama. "I can have one of my men drive you to your home."

"Thank you, but there's really no need for that, Koganei-san. Your home is located in one of the most scenic places in the city, so I might just take a walk around the area before I head home."

"I see. I suppose a walk around town would be nice," the older man said, only for him to impose a subtle question. "But you must have a girlfriend to hurry home to."

"Uh, no. Not really," Yuuta said with a more sincere yet sheepish smile this time. "I've been… Well…"

"You don't have to answer that question, Okkotsu-san. I apologise for being nosy," Kazuya chuckled at him. 

"If you don't mind me asking, Koganei-san…"

"Yes?"

Kazuya was told that Yuuta could be a bit inquisitive if something piques his attention, and something about this mission must have set him off. 

"What does Otome-san think about this arrangement?"

The young clan heir fought the urge in his lips to crack into a crooked smile that could let on more than what he intended. 

"Well, you can expect a biassed comment from me, but she has all the time in the world to answer your question once you're on your way to Kyoto."

—

Though Yuuta made several attempts to talk to you throughout the day, all have been rebuffed by Marin, who simply said that her mistress needed her rest, for many days of celebration await her when she arrives at Kyoto. You were thankful for her presence and always counted on her to help set you on the right track, but sometimes you wished she wasn't so attentive. 

Nightfall marked your final evening with your family in your home— in the meantime, at least. If you and Noritoshi come to a mutual understanding in your short homestay, you will have to inform your family that you agree to the marriage. They will head to Kyoto, with your marriage and union the final seal to the deal.

The meeting was just a pretence, for you truly had no say in this matter at all. Same goes for Noritoshi, who has no choice but to accept you as his bride as decreed by his family. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement for both your families, but it didn't put much thought into your compatibility. All you knew is that the Kamo Clan wanted another heir to secure their foothold in Jujutsu society and they needed new blood for that to happen. 

Did your father not at all consider that you might be unhappy with the decision? Perhaps not. You were expected to conduct yourself as a lady of the house would, not a spoiled daughter like you already were. More importantly, he somewhat underestimated the gravity of your gift— your cursed technique— so much that he even ignored the advances of the more cutthroat Zenin Clan. 

It was clear that your father did not account for reprisal. It made you think if the trouble and violence that comes with making a choice and choosing the lesser evil was worth it. 

Kazuya selected Yuuta from a line of capable sorcerers as your second guard because a whole retinue of sorcerers from your family will only invite unwanted attention. Though Marin was raised and trained to be an attendant, she knew the basics of having to defend her master. 

It was only when you were fast asleep and already halfway to Kyoto when your single vehicle was ambushed by sorcerers with a distinct cursed energy that raised so many alarm bells in your head. The sedan screeched to a stop with your path barred and a shadowy curtain laid above your position. 

"Looks like the Zenin are trying to bargain," Yohan sighed as he unbuckled his seatbelt. 

"Y-Yo-chan! Where are you going?!" You asked nervously as Marin prepared to spirit you away from the scene. 

"To bargain, ojou-san," the older man stated. He took a deep breath and removed his aviator sunglasses, carefully dispensing it in your hands. "No need to worry. I'll be back."

"Yohan-san, I can—" Yuuta started, unbuckling his seatbelt as he watched the older sorcerer turn off the car's ignition. He was swiftly cut off, however.

"Your task is to keep Otome ojou-san safe, Yuuta-kun. I trust you can do that while I'm occupied with these—" Yohan clicked his tongue in obvious annoyance. "—uninvited guests."

"But they're—"

"A trifle in our trip, so I'll be quick."

"No! Yo-chan! We're not—" You cried out anxiously, only for you to be hastily pulled out of the car by Marin, who was ready to make a run for it.  "Marin-chan!"

"I am charged to keep you safe, ojou-sama. If Otou-san says he'll handle it—"

Yohan and Yuuta were finished conversing, the tired look in the young sorcerer's eyes replaced with a glint of tenacity. 

"Otome-san, Yohan-san needs the area. We'll come back for him," Yuuta tried to coax you out of the car willingly. "It's a terrible turn of events, but this is why we're here. Why I'm here. Just as you have faith in me, have faith in him, too."

The anxiety in your heart boiled over ever since you left your home. It did not bubble down even as you slept soundly moments ago. You were gripped with the fear of losing those precious to you when you're finally married off, but this panic you felt right now was something else. 

"He's right, ojou-san. Have a little faith in this old man," Yohan chuckled at you. "I promise you I'll be quick."

Yohan was just as much of a father to you as he was to Marin. He was the kind of man who was married to his duties, thus his current unmarried status. He once said that he'll retire when the time is right, and it's never too late for him to get married since he's quite the looker, or so he once joked. 

"Hear me and obey, Yo-chan," you stated, feigning bravery as you stepped out of the car. "Return to me!"

"Of course, ojou-san."

You slipped his sunglasses over your eyes before running off with Marin and Yuuta, his blade unsheathed as he watched your back for any attackers. Those who dared to follow you were swiftly dealt with by Yuuta, whom the Zenin did not take into account when planning this ambush. 

It was only when you were running that you completely gauged the situation. The Zenin sent out a unit of sorcerers that were plenty in number but were short in cursed energy. So much so that Yohan's cursed technique, Gold Smoke, eclipsed their barrage of attacks. 

From the distance and hidden in the bush, you saw how the ambushers fell to the ground like flies dropping dead as the curtain was dispersed.

"You know, ojou-sama, it's unlike you to worry so much about otou-san," Marin remarked as she crouched down next to you. "He's dealt with more dangerous situations than this before."

"You're right. I somehow forgot that he's a First Grade sorcerer," you replied with a sigh, deciding against speaking about your irrational fear of losing those you love. "Even if Yo-chan finishes soon, we've already been derailed from our appointment."

"I already informed Kazuya-san about this, Otome-san. He will get in touch with the Kamo Clan and inform them about this incident," Yuuta stated rather calmly. He didn't want to spook you any further by talking about details and the chances of your circumstances turning into a serious crisis. After securing your safety, he was just about ready to jump into the scene to assist the older sorcerer, but his intentions were unnecessary when you spotted your car's bright red tail lights blinking in the distance. 

The signal, he thought to himself, nearly in disbelief. He really did them in. 

True enough, there was nary a hint of the other party's presence in the area, the blow of the gentle evening breeze the only thing you could feel apart from the rush of blood in your ears. 

"Stay close to me," Yuuta told you as he straightened his back and angled his blade in defence. Marin nodded at you to follow his lead as he walked out of the bush and back onto the main road. Your guardians sandwiched you between themselves, an air of caution and aversion as you all approached Yohan, his favourite cigarette lighted between his lips as he stood by the driver's side of the car. 

A wave of relief washed over you as you three stood before him, all the adrenaline leaving your body as you fell on your knees, much to Marin's surprise. "Y-Yo-chan…"

The older sorcerer grinned at you as he caught you by your arm. "I told you I'd be quick, didn't I, ojou-san?"

"And you nearly gave me a heart attack, too!" You retorted, tears pricking your eyes as you broke into weak laughter. "I can't do that again, Yo-chan… The next time this happens, I—"

"No, that is enough. After all of this, I simply cannot, in good faith, send you to the Kamo House," Yohan stated firmly. While he was known to be fiercely loyal to the Koganei Clan, he wasn't above showing his masters the error of their ways. He shook his head with what seemed to be a look of disappointment. "I warned the master against this, that your gift is both a blessing and a curse and should be nurtured… But instead he chose to sell you off— The decision itself is inconceivable!"

Marin was taken aback by this sudden outburst. "Otou-san! What are you saying?! You shouldn't speak against our master—" 

"Marin, my child, this is madness! Sending our young mistress to one of the Great Three Sorcerer Clans as though she is nothing but a breeding mare," he spat out the stubbed out cigarette. "They're making a mistake sending her there. To the Kamo House. To the Zenin House. Fortunately Gojo-san is sensible enough to—"

Yohan was visibly disturbed and angered by the turn of events. His fingers shook as he raised another of his cigarettes to his mouth, unable to spark a flame with his gilded lighter. It was only when you gripped his wrists that he steadied himself once more. "Ojou-san, please… Just say the word. Say it and I will gladly take you back."

"I…"

I want to go home.

"I'll take whatever punishment the master has for me if it means you'll be safe back home."

But there is no going back from this. 

"No, Yo-chan. This is my duty. To our family, first and foremost. I can live a lifetime of unhappiness and displeasure if it means I can secure the clan's future. They've drilled it into me for so long that it was impossible to avoid, even when I became an idol." 

So that's what she thinks about this, Yuuta thought to himself as he watched you purse your lips. However, there was simply no concealing the shine of your tears that soaked your lashes even underneath Yohan's aviator sunglasses. You would subject yourself to a lifetime of unhappiness and live with it if it meant your own family could live comfortably undetected and protected by one of the Great Three Sorcerer Clans.

But still, why would someone willingly walk to their own undoing? Why curse yourself to a lifetime of unhappiness? He couldn't wrap his mind around it. 

"We'll take a detour tonight, ojou-san. If the Kamo Clan truly values their ties with our family, they will agree to meet us at a rendezvous point first thing tomorrow morning," Yohan finally stated as he urged the three of you to get in the car once more. "I will take responsibility for this excursion, so please take this opportunity to take it easy and rest up after all that's happened."

"All right, then…"

"And if by tomorrow morning, you've had a change of heart, we can always return to Tokyo," Yohan reassured you once more as he started the car and drove off as though nothing happened, even though the incident stirred so much unrest in your heart. 

It took about an hour of driving before Yohan took an unexpected turn and another 20 minutes of untraceable road before the vehicle eventually ground to a halt outside a well-maintained ryokan concealed deep in the woods edging Kyoto. It didn't take long for you to notice that there was a curtain around the area. 

"This place is owned by a good friend of mine," Yohan started as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "They've maintained this place for as long as I can remember."

Soon enough, an older woman around his age stepped out of the ryokan to welcome your group. She had an elegant, cordial smile on her face that suited the muted orange kimono she wore. 

"It's good to see you well, Yohan," the elderly woman said with a warm smile as she rested her gaze on you. "Ah, and you must be the lady of the Koganei House. You truly are as lovely as he recounted. Your guardian has told me much about you… And this one must be your Marin. How pretty you are as well!"

As for Yuuta, she only had a quick nod when she recognised him as one of jujutsu society's Special Grade sorcerers. 

"Please allow me to introduce myself. I am the proprietor of this inn. My name is Irino Izana. My husband and I are long-time friends with your Yohan."

"Irino?" You asked curiously. "Do you happen to know an Irino Izuna-san?…"

"Why, yes. She's my daughter. I— Oh, it's you. You must be the one… The idol she so adores dressing up in elaborate clothes and costumes. I couldn't believe it at first when she said you were…" Izana stated with a rueful smile. "Just like her, she said— a girl from a sorcerer family who found her way to stardom."

It clicks in your head all of a sudden. The reason why Izuna adored you so even when you were just an idol trainee, why she favoured you over everyone else in the group. You were just like her. 

"Izuna-san has since retired from her idol work and from her costume designing. Has she… been well?"

Izana averted her gaze from your face. "Yohan said that you are to be the bride of the Kamo heir. Your family must be overjoyed that you're fulfilling your duties…"

"Um, yes, I suppose," you replied with a small smile. "If… If Izuna-san is here, I would love to see her…"

Izana raised her eyes to meet yours, a subtle sharpness in her gaze that seemed more like a look of regret. "My apologies, ojou-san, but Izuna isn't here. You must have heard from your agency… the reason she retired from her job."

"Oh. They said she was going to get married, but…"

You and Yuuta exchanged glances, to which he said, "Thank you for your hospitality, Irino-san. If it's alright with you, Otome-san would like to get some rest."

"Ah, of course. How silly of us to be standing here when I should have welcomed you inside. Please, please come in! I will have our attendants carry your belongings to your lodging," the elderly woman said, her demeanour back to that of a hotelier.

As your group was ushered inside the quaint traditional inn, you quietly caught Yuuta by his sleeve, prompting him to slow his steps so that you were side by side. 

"Ojou—" Marin attempted to pull you back next to her, only for her to be stopped by Yohan. "O-Otou-san?"

"Leave them be. He is capable of protecting her, but I doubt anyone would find us here."

"But—"

"Otome knows what she is doing, Marin."

"She is disregarding her obligation to the masters of—"

The older man shook his head. "She is simply deciding for herself." 

The spacious ryokan allowed for your small group to each have their own room. While the quiet night was perfect for resting, too many thoughts raced through your mind for you to even lie down on the futon carefully laid out in the middle of the room. 

Was Yohan serious about returning home if you said you wanted to? More importantly, he was ready to accept whatever punishment your father would give him, all for your sake. 

The pearly white moon hung perfectly in the middle of your window like an exquisite painting. It was hard to tear your eyes from its beauty, so you beheld it even more by resting your head on the window sill. 

"Izuna-san must have been married off, too."

She did not have someone who would intercede on her behalf. Perhaps you may have been more spoiled than the other daughters of sorcerer families… Because how fortunate were you to have someone like that in your life? Yohan did not want you to live a lifetime of unhappiness. He did not want you to curse yourself to a lifetime of displeasure. 

And happiness for you was so simple. Being able to continue the work you love. Receiving the adoration of your friends and many fans. Drinking Yakult after a long day at work. Dressing up in all of Izuna's finely crafted costumes. 

"Mm…" You hummed to yourself as you recalled those precious moments that are now just memories meant to be cherished. 

—

Yuuta couldn't sleep either. But neither could Yohan, and they were equally surprised to find each other downstairs at the common area. While the older sorcerer made use of the yukata provided by their lodging, the younger one was still in his clothes from earlier that day.

"Are you having trouble sleeping, Yohan-san?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Yohan replied with a chuckle. "I used to work with the owners of this inn back when they were still sorcerers. Surprisingly, they got together one day and the rest was history."

"Ah, so that's what Irino-san meant when she said that you were good friends."

"Yes. Her husband was mad jealous of me back then, too, but I never understood why he felt that way," Yohan stated as he fished out his lighter and pack of cigarettes. 

"He must have thought you were a rival for, uh…"

"Izana? What a joke," the older man snorted, bringing a cigarette to his lips. "I would have accepted him being more jealous of my skills rather than being interested in the same girl. After all, Yoshitaka despised how I went about my work since I had very little regard for it. He came from an esteemed sorcerer clan while I was an outsider to jujutsu society with no significant ties to any family. It was only when Seito— Otome's father— commissioned me to be his guard that I found myself an anchor in this society."

"I see…" 

"Izana is a good friend, but I never liked her that way," Yohan said as he blew a puff of smoke away from Yuuta's direction. 

For Yuuta, it almost seemed like the more experienced sorcerer was basking in his nostalgia— wistful, even. 

"It was good that Seito-sama offered me this position when we met off the bat. He is a good master— he pays well and is an attentive clan leader, but he's not exactly the wisest when it comes to reading people, especially his children," the older man said with a small laugh. "If he had taken the time to get to know his children better, he would have known that ojou-san loves her work as an idol and that she makes so many people happy. That Kazuya-kun only has eyes for one person and one person alone and he could never have him— not in this lifetime, at least… If Seito-sama had grown to understand her, he'd know for certain that he would be cursing his daughter to a lifetime of unhappiness."

Yohan adjusted his aviator sunglasses, but Yuuta couldn't miss how red his nose had become. 

"Yoshitaka made an offer before Seito-sama did, but I rejected it because I'd be cursing myself to a lifetime of unhappiness too, had I accepted it. He despised how modern I was compared to his more antiquated ways. If I had accepted his offer, I wouldn't be the person I am now. I would have been tied to his outdated beliefs, too," he continued with the same rueful smile on his now-evidently tired face. "I might have loved him, but I valued my freedom of being more than anything." 

Loved? 

"What? Yohan-san, you—"

"Cursing yourself to a lifetime of unhappiness… What bullshit," Yohan shook his head. "If ojou-san decides to return home, I will show her father the error of his ways. That is if she does decide to… But if she insists on pressing forward with the rendezvous, then I have no choice but to heed her orders." 

Unhappiness was the very same thing Yuuta cursed himself with. He tormented himself with a life of contentment without wanting anything— anything at all— because why on earth was he free to live his life while she— Rika— had to die? Yet it wasn't like he was the cause of all of it. Why did he blame himself for something that was far beyond his control?

Wanting always leads to loss, after all, he told himself. But what if it didn't have to?

"You know Otome happens to be very fond of you," Yohan stated with a smile. "Somehow it always felt like her family knew this would happen. That's why they always hired older sorcerers for these kinds of jobs. Still, Gojo-san himself insisted that you take this job." 

"I didn't think much of it, either," Yuuta replied with a small chuckle. "Otome-san has been pleasant to work with…"

"And what do you think of her?"

"I-I'm sorry?"

"What do you think of her?" Yohan repeated his question. "Especially since you know that she looks upon you with fondness."

"W-Well, she's… She's beautiful, kind, and warm… I, uh…"

"Does she make you nervous?" 

Yohan noticed how the younger sorcerer went bright red at his queries. He couldn't help but laugh all of a sudden.

"Y-You know you shouldn't make fun of your juniors, Yohan-san," Yuuta managed a weak rebuttal. "O-Otome-san is a wonderful woman, but— But I know where I should stand in this—"

"This circus? This sham of an engagement?" The older sorcerer replied as he stubbed out his cigarette. "I know you aren't as gutless as you make yourself out to be, Yuuta-kun. I think it's about time you started using that status of yours to your advantage. It's not just for display, is it?"

"But… But what if it's just me?" Yuuta said with a slight quiver in his voice. "Rika will never forgive me…"

"But what if it isn't just you?" Yohan shot back at him. "The dead can neither forgive nor dictate what it is the living can still do. And I mean no disrespect to her, but what you're doing to yourself is tantamount to emotional suicide."

"I'm afraid that if I want her too badly, she… She might—"

"Listen, kid. The worst thing that could happen is her wanting you just as much."

—

For once in a long time, Yuuta had a grasp of what he wanted— For himself, more than anything. He could still hear Yohan's voice in his head apart from the blood rushing in his ears as he hastily made his way to your room. He had no idea if you were already asleep, but he needed you to know something. 

So when you slid open the door for him after he asked if you were still awake, you were both equally surprised. And equally at a loss. And equally waiting, anticipating, the thumping in your chests seeming unheard, but you could— You could feel your heart in your throat now. What the hell was going on?

And Yuuta couldn't tear his eyes off you. He meant it when he said that you were beautiful even in this state of undoneness— your hair unkempt, your yukata slightly left open, the twinkle of wonder and confusion in your gaze that made him want to answer your every question.  

"It crossed my mind," he told you, finally breaking the silence. "Taking you away. We can go wherever you want to go."

"Y-Yuuta-san? Wh-Whatever do you mean?…"

"I hope you don't find it strange that I… want to be at your beck and call. And… And I know it won't be much work at all because you want so little—"

You stepped into his space and carefully brought a hand to his cheek. He was shaking in his spot, but he sank into your palm so comfortably and contentedly and the sigh of relief he breathed out was just so warm. 

"Do you even know what you're doing to me now?" You quietly asked him. He held your wrist in place when you tried to pull away from him.

"Without a doubt, I like you more than you think…" He chuckled. "I wish you'd trust me to be honest, even for just a little bit…"

What? 

"You… like me?"

"Is it a terrible idea for you?"

"No, no, not at all," you shook your head at him. "But why… Where is this all coming from?"

"I… had a little help," Yuuta stated with a nervous smile as he raised a hand to rub the back of his neck. "And I know I'm wanting something— someone way above my paygrade—"

"You're silly," you cut him off with a laugh. "You're a Special Grade sorcerer. You can have anything you want…"

"So long as I work for it."

"Then work for it," you said, taking his free hand into yours to finally pull him into your room. "You said that you didn't mind being at my beck and call, so does that mean you'll do whatever it is I tell you?"

Yuuta visibly swallowed at your question, but he allowed himself to be pulled in by your tender hold. He resisted so little when you pulled him down to your futon, his eyes now wide with surprise and wonder. 

"Are you… holding back?" Your voice was hushed to a whisper. The ghost of a smile danced on your lips as you gently drew him closer to you. 

Yuuta was a master of self-control, but the hardened warrior in him was rendered absolutely malleable in your hands as you pleaded to him with that look you gave him— that gaze so full of stars and a slightly crimson smile. Pretty girls with pretty smiles have always been his weakness. Not that he'd ever admit it, but it was already a given fact. 

Rika. The girl in the picture had the most mischievous smile that was still so endearing to him, after all. 

"You don't have to hold back at all." 

His resolve crumbled bit by bit the lower your yukata fell off your shoulders. 

"The work you do is hard. If… If there's any way I canmmf—"

He closed the distance between the two of you with one swift kiss, one so chaste that it pulled at your heart and made you think twice about seducing him further. 

"I think you do plenty," he murmured, his warm forehead resting against your own. "I'm no stranger to being adored, yet it does feel quite different coming from a living, breathing heart." 

You were done appeasing ghosts from the past, but that didn't mean you would disrespect their memory. 

"Because I'm certain Rika-san would want me to cherish you." 

No, you weren't, but did any of that matter at all now? You adored him now. And now is all you have. 

"You're not sure, are you?" He chuckled, the tiny smile on his obviously tired face slowly melting into a thin line. "You should know that I… I've never been with anyone at all, so I may be lack—"

"What? And you think I'm some expert at this?" You said with a small smile, warm hands on his even warmer face. "Oh, Yuuta. I've never wanted anyone as terribly as I want you. I—"

His fingers gently dug into the skin of your thighs as he lifted you onto his lap, lips on lips as you coaxed him to soften his tense shoulders. 

You didn't need the light to know that he was flushed all over. 

"I am yours," he breathed the words against your cheek. "If you'll have me." 

"I most certainly will." 

Something about the way he spoke to you made you tear up. How you wish you could kiss away the hurt that was so evident on his face. 

"The moon is exquisitely beautiful tonight, isn't it?" You whispered against his brow. A low hum of agreement that left his lips tickled your neck. 

"You're still prettier," he mumbled back, curling his arms around you to pull you even closer to him. You gently collided with his bare chest, allowing him to hold you tighter. 

"Don't say that," you chided him before running your fingers through his dark hair. "Mm…"

"Is something on your mind?"

"No, nothing at all," you told him, contentedly resting your hand on his nape. 

"Can you sing for me?" 

"Demanding things from me now, are we?" You said with a laugh. 

"I heard you humming something earlier this evening. Can you sing that one?"

"Now that is above my paygrade. But since you asked so nicely, I might just…"

Yuuta released you from his embrace and allowed you to sit up, pulling up the covers with you while he watched you with rapt anticipation despite his sleepy gaze. 

"I'm who I am, as I am; you're who you are, as who you are— The final words you whispered, before you left me with a scar."

"On your familiar silver jacket splattered coffee's left a stain, destined always to remain… And still we're lost inside the habit— Tears reflecting in the pane show our pitiful refrain."

You brought your hand to his cheek once more, but he grasped your fingers to press a tender kiss on your palm.  

"Stay with me… In the dead of night I'm banging on your door. I'm begging you, without you I'm done for. Now the winter arrived, like the tears in our eyes—" 

"Stay with me… While your voice remains an echo of the past, I'm holding on to moments that won't last. I will never forget, I will never regret our love…"

This time, he felt courageous enough to pull you down back next to him and press another kiss on your lips, tasting your sweetness once more along with the saltiness of your tears.

"Are you okay?" He asked you, your face in his warm hands. A look of concern lit his eyes as he surveyed your expression. "Are you cold?"

"I'm fine," you said. It was your turn to grip his wrists in place this time. "There is something I must tell you, though… A-And I can understand if you feel it will be such a huge undertaking for you."

Yuuta sat up and helped you up as well, sensing the seriousness of this conversation. "I'm listening." 

"My family… My cursed technique is called Soul Resonance. A binding vow between a fellow sorcerer and I will allow me to turn into a weapon— any weapon you might desire. I, uh… You must have realised by now why I am so against my arranged marriage. I cannot allow myself or my cursed technique to be used by someone I don't know. Someone who may abuse this power," you stated as you wrung your fingers around the covers over your shoulders. "And this… This binding vow will be for eternity. My power will be yours until the day I die."

It finally dawned on Yuuta why two of the Great Three Sorcerer Clans wanted you into their fold and why your presence stirred so much controversy. You lowered your gaze in shame, your mind now grasping at straws and desperately thinking of ways this revelation could go wrong, and how he could outright reject you… But he stepped up, and you thought to yourself that I should, too. 

"Yuuta… You wanted nothing from me but me. You will neither yearn for nor despise my power because you have no need for it," you said, finally raising your eyes to meet his steady blue gaze. "You want me simply because you adore me."

You couldn't get a read on his expression, but it was soft and somewhat sympathetic. 

"So I feel my power rests safe and well in your hands, while my heart is safe next to yours," you concluded with a small nod. "Only if you'll have me." 

It was a power that ostracised you, much like him when he was just starting as a sorcerer. How could he not understand where you were coming from? And your wisdom— the way you knew full well that it would be a source of conflict if not managed well. His desire to protect you as charged to him flowered into a desire to hold you close simply because he adored you. 

Yuuta smiled at you before eventually taking your hands in his, raising your cold knuckles to his warm lips. "I would want nothing more than for your heart to be safe next to mine."

— Where my heart is safe.

It was a soundless, wordless understanding when you and Yuuta stepped out of the inn hand in hand. Yohan simply nodded at you both and gestured for you to get in the car. You turned to the boy, who gently released your hand so you could bid farewell to the owner of the establishment. 

"I must thank you for accommodating us, Irino-san," you said with a smile as you bowed down before the older woman. "Um, if you have any means of communicating with Izuna-san, I'd like for you to tell her that I… I'm well, I followed my heart, and that I forgive her. And that I hope she finds it in her heart to forgive herself, too."

Izana held your gaze for a moment before smiling back at you. She took your hands in hers and gently squeezed them, as though letting you know that things will be alright from here on out. "Of course. I'll be sure to let her know." 

When Yohan approached the older woman, they simply exchanged a quick but heartfelt embrace. "Be safe, Yohan. I'll let Taka know that you dropped by"

"No need," he replied with a grin. "I'm certain he still despises me to the point of cursing my existence."

"Yohan," Izana stated as she caught him by his hand. "Taka may have resented you a little for rejecting his proposition, but he never hated you." 

Yuuta was quick to notice the change in the older sorcerer's expression, the hint of yearning that flashed across his aged face— 

"We should get going, Yo-chan," You called out to your guardian as you read the notification on your mobile phone. "I just received a text from Kazu nii-san telling me to return home…"

"What? Did he just send that message now?" Yuuta asked. You nodded as you handed over your phone to him. "Yohan-san."

"I hear you, kid. We have to go."

"What? Wait, what's going on?" You asked, evidently confused by Yohan's sudden sense of urgency as he hurriedly urged you to get in the car. 

"We'll explain on the way back."

—

And it was just how Yuuta and Yohan described the whole thing. They were warned beforehand that the Zenin Clan did not take rejection well, so they should be prepared for anything, such as the attack from last night. Kazuya instructed them that he will be their point of contact and he will inform them of the clan's decisions before they made their move. But if he ever reaches out to his sister instead, that is something else. 

It was an emergency. 

Sorcerers from the Zenin Clan surrounded your estate's perimeters, but they allowed you entrance since it was you they were looking for, after all. 

The Zenin Clan sorcerers did not permit Yohan, Marin or Yuuta to accompany you to your family's audience hall, but a single nod was all it took for the three of them to understand. Do what you must. 

In the middle of the estate shoin sat the ever domineering head of the Zenin Clan, and he stank of alcohol even though you were still a metre's length away from him. Your clan's servants were gathered around him like he was the master of the house, while your father and brother sat adjacent to him. 

"Oh, I can see now why Naoya's so upset—" Zenin Naobito stated before taking another swig of sake from his glazed ceramic bottle. "She's as ripe as a peach."

"Zenin-sama," you greeted the older man. You tried to do so warmly, but your expression betrayed you as your lips curled in disgust, a look he didn't miss. 

"You wound me, girl. I would have had you flogged for looking at me that way if you were my daughter."

"Yes, so you see now why I'm trying to avoid that from happening," you shot back at him, much to your father and brother's surprise. You saw Kazuya shake his head at you, his sharp gaze telling you to stop it with your smart mouth.

And yet Naobito responded to your amusing quip with thunderous laughter. "What a quick witted girl you are. Though you'd be dead by now if not for that cursed technique of yours… The blood that flows in your veins. Since you want to be all smart with me, you know by now what will happen if you refuse to acquiesce to our clan's generous offer."

"The only thing that's going to happen is you and your clan leaving my home," you stated. "Or do you want to do this the hard way and be kicked out instead?"

Naobito unceremoniously dropped his bottle of sake on the tatami floor and turned to your father. "Seito! You said she would be an agreeable girl!"

"She—" 

You raised a hand to stop your father from speaking any further. He quieted down, much to your surprise. 

"My father and I will speak later, Zenin-sama," you continued. "But you will leave my family alone after this. You won't find much value in me, after all. Not after I—"

A scuffle by the entrance of the audience hall prompted your house's servants to gather in a single corner while your father and brother rose to their feet to shield them from possible harm. But the smoke was glimmering gold, which only meant one thing— Yohan cleared the way. 

"Otome!" 

From the smoke emerged Yuuta and his unsheathed blade, his arm outstretched toward you as you lunged right at him, meeting his open arms and kissing him then and there. You paid no mind to the gasps from your family's servants, the sounds of the clashing blades and heavy footsteps fading into the distance as you suddenly felt completely weightless.   

Your shared cursed energy easily and effortlessly melded together, allowing you to take the form of a gilded weapon he was most adept at using, your spirit form now perched upon his shoulder.  

"She formed a binding vow… with that lad! Special Grade sorcerer Okkotsu Yuuta!" Naobito slowly rose to his feet, the same look of amusement on his face as the gilded blade was aimed at him. "I should have known this worthless family would pull such a trick!"

"You forget just how fast I am, old man," Yuuta stated point blankly, unfazed by the older sorcerer's tirade. "Perhaps not as fast as you, but I sure as hell can take you in a fight." 

Naobito came here at his youngest son's behest— the spoiled thing— and he expected almost little to no resistance from your family. Seito was a known sycophant and he would have willingly handed over his daughter to keep the peace. The Zenin didn't account for Yuuta at all, and that you had a mind of your own. "Tch."

"Her offer still stands, by the way. Either you take your filth out of their home or I'll do it for her."

And how embarrassing would be it be for the rest of the society to know that he, of all people, attempted to bully a low-ranking clan into submission. 

—

While you and your father were busy ensuring all of your family's staff and servants were accounted for, Yohan and Yuuta were surveying the estate's perimeters. 

Kazuya was making important phone calls to the magic college when the door to the master's den slid open. 

"Kazu nii-san, it's Satoru nii-san. He came to check on us after that thing," you said with a smile. 

Satoru entered the den with an unreadable expression on his face though his blindfold hung around his neck. "Kazuya."

But your older brother had an aggrieved look on his face as compared to his usual annoyed expression. "Where were you, you idiot? I called you as soon as they started raiding our home—"

"I'm sorry. I still came here as soon as I could—"

"Stop apologising, damn it! I'm so tired of it!" 

In a rare moment of weakness, Kazuya dropped to his knees in tears, no longer caring for how his hakama creased and wrinkled up under his weight. Satoru got down on one knee and carefully placed a hand on his friend's quivering shoulder, not at all sure if he would be rebuffed. 

"Hey, ojou-chan. Why don't we catch up later?" Satoru told you, the confusion on your face clear as day. "Your brother and I have to talk for a bit."

"Oh, uh, o-okay then."

You slid the door closed behind you, only to find Yuuta standing right outside the den. 

"I heard that Gojo-sensei just arrived."

"Ah, yeah. He rushed all the way to nii-san, though… He was, well… pretty upset about the situation and how Satoru nii-san didn't come much sooner."

"Oh, I see…" Was all he could say, because while you were bewildered by your older brother's unusual unstable reaction, he knew the reason, perhaps a little bit too well. The sadness in Yohan's voice was so palpable, after all. Kazuya-kun only has eyes for one person and one person alone and he could never have him— not in this lifetime, at least…

Yuuta made a conclusion he couldn't quite share with you yet. He must have felt abandoned by sensei. 

"We should wait for them outside," he told you with a small smile on his face. He took you by the hand and everything was well in the world again, for you, at least. 

"I suppose I have some explaining to do, after all," you replied with a sigh of defeat. "B-But don't worry! My father is an agreeable man a-and we have Yo-chan on our corner, too."

"About that…"

As he gently pulled you out by hand to your estate's sprawling gardens, you found your father Seito and Yohan conversing just under the aged ginkgo tree, its golden foliage akin to a canopy overhead. 

"I think Yohan-san gave your father the scolding he threatened to give," Yuuta chuckled as you stood side by side. "It fills me with confidence that we have someone like him in our corner." 

"Mm…"

"I'm only a little worried. The binding vow we made will tie us to each other for eternity. After having resonated with you, I understand why you wished for this power to end up in the right hands. I'm not saying I am the right choice for this, but I… I'll endeavour to…" 

You squeezed his hand and gave him a reassuring smile. "I know, Yuuta."

He squeezed your hand right back before eventually lifting it to his chest. "And you… might feel obligated to accompany me on missions, but I'll never require you to do so…"

"I'm not really that noble, Yuuta, so I'll be sure not to get in your way. Also, I doubt that HQ will let me join you since I'm technically an ungraded sorcerer— I'm pretty much like a civilian, to say the least." 

It was your turn to chuckle this time. "However, we'll have to register this… newfound relationship that we have, for formality's sake. We are weapon and meister now."

"Ah, of course."

"And you do know the best way to keep our power safe is by marrying into my family, correct?"

"Well, I— w-wait, did you say marry into your family?!"

"Oh, is the thought so disagreeable to you?" You pouted at him this time, only for the corner of your lips to drop to a small frown. "But I understand your apprehension… You were once engaged, after all…"

Padded footsteps from behind you made their approach, another pair closely following. 

"Ojou-chan, you aren't a replacement for what he lost. Yuuta sees you as you are. He understands that you and Rika-chan are two different people, thus he should see you differently."

It was Satoru with a Cheshire Cat grin on his lips. His blue eyes were concealed beneath his dark blindfold once more, the look you and everyone else was more accustomed to. Closely behind him was your older brother, no more tears on his face yet the corner of his eyes remained red from his weeping. 

"Yuuta's pretty gutsy going against the wishes of three clans, especially when he doesn't even have a claim on you. Then again, he has his big name and high status to gamble on," Satoru stated with a small shrug. "There's so little to gamble on, anyway. Noritoshi didn't stand a chance and neither did that Zenin brat Naoya."

"Yes, all according to plan, just like you said," Kazuya said with a wave of his hand. "I believe I owe you an apology, my dearest little sister." 

"Did I hear you right? You… you just said Satoru nii-san planned this?"

"Well, not the whole fiasco with the Zenin," the silver-haired man replied. "But yes… I orchestrated the meeting between you and Yuuta. Only because your brother begged me—"

Your brother quickly elbowed his friend. "I asked Satoru to find you a suitable match, one that didn't require you to leave home or sacrifice yourself to a lifetime of unhappiness."

"But—"

"Satoru told me that your first meeting sparked a need within you both, or at least that's how he understood the situation. After all, he said that Okkotsu-san was absolutely bewitched by your presence." 

Yuuta immediately turned red at the very pointed truth your brother had just told you. 

"So you didn't know about this, Yuuta?"

He shook his head at you, a hint of defeat evident in his smile. "Not at all. Though I suppose sensei knew how to use my very weakness to his advantage…"

"Pretty girls with pretty smiles," Satoru stated with another cheeky grin. "But once he sets his eyes on someone, that's the end of the game."

"Did Yo-chan know about this… plan of yours?"

"No, it was just me and Satoru," Kazuya stated as he shook his head. "Though knowing how much that old man adores you, he might have had an inkling… More importantly, you and I have something to talk about. If you'll excuse us for a while, gentlemen…"

Your brother offered his elbow to you which you gladly took, slipping your hands to grip his arm as he led you to where your father and Yohan stood in the middle of your estate's garden. As Yuuta eyed your retreating figure, Satoru clamped a hand on his pupil's shoulder.

"You can always start wanting things again, Yuuta. Her death was beyond your control. None of what happened to her was ever your fault," the older man said. It was a truth so plain and simple yet something Yuuta had such a hard time believing. 

Rika died of an illness, one that plagued her since childhood. Her dreams of becoming a sorcerer by his side were nipped in the bud, for Yuuta wouldn't allow her to die a sorcerer's death, which was such an undignified death… She died a human, her heart full of love and gratitude for those who loved her and cared for her in her final days. 

And the last thing Rika bade him do was to live a life of happiness, because that's what he would have wanted her to do if he were in her position.

How could I have forgotten that? Yuuta shook his head and simply smiled to himself upon remembering.   

"There is a girl who wears her heart on her sleeve who has fallen in love for the very first time in her life," Satoru patted his pupil's back. "What you can control now is how things will move forward from here." 

"I know, sensei. I guess I just feel a little… apprehensive," Yuuta chuckled rather nervously. "I mean, you said it yourself, I went against the agreement of three sorcerer clans and entangled myself with the Koganei Clan's precious daughter— even though I'm just a nobody." 

"A nobody?" His teacher laughed at the incredulous statement that left his lips. "You're Okkotsu Yuuta, one of this generation's finest Special Grade sorcerers. The Koganei should be more than grateful to welcome you into their fold. And if their old man gives you shit, which I doubt he will given how spineless he actually is, you're just going to have to remind him who's protecting his house."

"I-I wouldn't go that far, sensei…"

"Only if he gives you shit."

"I hope he doesn't…" Yuuta muttered to himself. "I-I'll work hard to earn his approval. A-And I'll cherish Otome, so…"

From across the garden, you eyed the anxious smile that lit Yuuta's face as he spoke to his teacher. About what, you'll never truly know. All you know for certain now is that things are about to change in your family's way of life, especially with how they regard you. 

"I'm an old man. I can't keep up with all of this. And after all that's happened, I have enough reason to believe that our family's faith in me has been shaken," Seito stated with a slight raise of his hand. "It's good that you've made your preparations to inherit, Kazuya. I feel… No, I believe that you're better equipped to lead our clan in these ever-changing times…"

Your father admitting his ineptitude came as a surprise to you, but not so much to your brother, who simply nodded in agreement.  

"And what are your plans now, Otome?" Your father asked you, the edge in his voice gone and replaced with genuine concern for your future. "That binding vow you made with that young sorcerer will tie you to him for the rest of your life. Are you ready for that kind of commitment?"

"O-Of course! I-If it's with Yuuta, I'd be more than happy to!" You said, suddenly conscious about the heat rising to your face. "I… I want to get to know him more. And if he'll let me, he and I w-will have all the time in the world to…"

From where he stood, Yuuta could see just how flustered you were while the older men simply chuckled at your enthusiastic response. He knew that you meant well, too. That you would nothing more than for his heart to be safe next to yours, too.

~ ten months later.

Your marriage to Yuuta was conducted in the shadow of your older brother's inheritance ceremony. It was an even more private traditional ceremony that officially welcomed him into the Koganei Clan. Your marriage still took place despite all the apprehension he felt, but not much changed afterwards. Neither of you wore any wedding bands and he never took your name— and you didn't mind that at all since none of those formalities mattered to you, anyway. All that mattered to you was that he would come home to you at the end of every day. While his mandated work from Jujutsu Headquarters still took precedence over clan duties, he still proved to be a capable enforcer when called upon by Kazuya. 

Yuuta owed much to his brother-in-law, after all, especially since he vouched for his merits so he could marry you without so much of a hitch. 

Still, there was more to your brother's relationship with your husband than they let you in on, even more so when Kazuya started persuading you to return to your work in the entertainment industry. 

"No one wants to see a married idol, nii-san," you joked to him, but the look in his eyes was serious. "Do you… actually want me to start working again?"

"Why not? If you can't be an idol anymore, I'm sure there's a demand for you somewhere else. In fact, why don't you ask that smart manager of yours?" He told you from across his office table as he browsed through his usual paperwork. 

"Nii-san, we've arrived," came a most familiar voice from outside his den. 

"Perfect. Come in, Yuuta. I believe you have a surprise for my sister," Kazuya stated as he set down the documents he was reading. As the shoji slid open, you were elated to see your husband come home from running errands for your brother, but an even larger smile lit your face when you saw the person who entered right after him. 

"Sa-chan!"

"Oh! Otome! It does my heart good to see you well!" Sana happily exclaimed as she returned your embrace. "And I'm even more excited to see you return to work!"

"B-But who told you that? I…"

"I… did," Yuuta stated. "I'm sorry for being so presumptuous, but I… can see how much you miss your work every time you watch TV or check out your socials. You should know that I don't want to stop you from what you love. I know how passionate you are about your craft, s-so I—"

"I told Yuuta to get in touch with Kagomura-san," Kazuya finished his sentence. "You should be doing something you love rather than just languishing here at home, Otome."

"R-Right he is, Otome! Oh, Kyou-san will be thrilled to have you back at Mieux Folie, but not as an idol anymore. In fact, when Okkotsu-san reached out to me, the agency was mulling over who to give this certain movie role to, so it's like fate!" Sana squeezed your hands in sheer excitement over the possibility of signing you back in the agency as— "It's your acting debut!"

"And you're okay with this, n-nii-san?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Kazuya answered your question. "I'm not like our old man. I actually see value in your talent as an entertainer."

"Really?" You quirked an eyebrow at his statement. 

"Of course I do," he stated with a thoughtful hand on his chin. "If you become an actress, you'll be invited to all sorts of events and occasions. Maybe you can tell a friend or two that you have an equally good-looking older brother—"

"All right, Sa-chan. Let's do it," You squeezed her hands back with a newfound exhilaration. "I'll sign back on with Mieux Folie, but only if you promise to be my manager." 

"As if I'd say no to that!" Sana stated with a smile on her face. "You know, Otome, Okkotsu-san is a pretty generous husband. Other husbands would want their actress wives to give up their careers to focus on their families instead, but he's here pushing you to pursue your dreams."

"Isn't that thoughtful of him?" You gave your manager a cheeky grin. "I suppose earning a little pocket money before we try for a baby is a great idea."

"O-Otome!" Came Yuuta's nervous interjection. "P-Please don't neglect to tell me if you're feeling strange or under the weather. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you without us knowing if you're actually pregnant…"

His concerns were eased when you took his hand this time and lifted it to your face. Just as your hearts were tied together by your marriage, your souls were tied together by something far greater. "Believe me, sweetheart. You'll know."

~ one year later.

"Is this thing on?"

You spoke into the screen of your mobile phone as you sat on the cushy couch in your spacious living room. After having starred in Onodera Noah's directorial debut film "Ever I Wander", which kickstarted your work as an actress this time around, you and Yuuta moved out of your family's estate to a condominium unit in the city. Your job as an actress demanded much of your time, but always made it a point to reserve days for rest with your husband, who was distant from the living room yet visible onscreen as you went live on your preferred SNS account.

[ Aaaaaa ]

[ It's Otome-san!!! ]

[ I can't believe you're going on live today! ]

[ What a great morning! ]

[ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ]

[ wwww such a blessed day!! ]

[ Good morning, Otome-san! ]

[ … ]

[ … ]

Numerous comments and reactions from your adoring fans and followers flashed and rained on your screen as you confirmed that you were indeed livestreaming at the moment. 

"Hello, everyone! I hope you're having a lovely day so far!" You waved to your screen with your megawatt smile. "I'm just hopping on here to give everyone a big thanks for supporting Noah-san's work, 'Ever I Wander', and of course for supporting me in my first-ever acting role as Hinarin." 

[ ❤️❤️❤️ ]

[ You did such a great job with Hinarin!! ]

[ ❤️ ]

"I'm so glad everyone loved the film. Noah-san and I have been good friends for quite a while now and I can attest to his dedication to his craft and the calibre of his work. I'm certain he's still on a high after the film's release. 'Ever I Wander' is such a profound piece of media that tackles so many relevant themes of our time, so please recommend it to your family and friends!" 

Yuuta approached you with a bowl of freshly cut fruit, careful not to appear onscreen but many eagle-eyed viewers saw his arm enter the frame. 

[ Is that your husband??? ]

[ Wow I can tell from his arm that he works out!! ]

[ ❤️❤️ ]

[ … ]

[ He has such a mysterious aura… ]

[ But didn't he accompany her on the film's premiere? ]

[ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ]

"Yes, that was my husband. He just handed me a bowl of my favourite fruits. Isn't he just the sweetest?" You couldn't help but gush and beam as you happily showed off the fresh and juicy fruit slices neatly arranged in the bowl. "His job requires him to work out a lot and I suppose it shows even though it isn't his intention to brag about his build. All the better to lift me, I guess!"

[ 😂😂😂 ]

[ 😂 ]

[ He must be the strongest soldier wwwww ]

[ 😂😂😂 ]

[ Can you please show us the photo on your background? ]

"The photo on my background…" You repeated the comment before eventually turning around to point at what the viewer mentioned. "Aha! Another one of Noah-san's works! This was from my last photobook after I retired from my idol work two years ago."

[ It's so risque 😳 ]

[ The theme is kinda sexy?? ]

[ 😳😳😳 ]

[ ❤️❤️ ]

The blown-up photo was one of you and Yuuta, a memento Noah sent you as a wedding gift. Just as he said before, you were the focal point of that photoshoot and Yuuta was just a mere framing device. With his back turned from the camera, he was an alluring mystery that gave the photo an even more charming appeal to the viewer. 

"Noah-san really knows how to make magic, doesn't he? My husband and I were so surprised to receive it, but we figured it had to be displayed somewhere…"

[ Your husband is sooo lucky!! ]

[ I say Otome-san is lucky with her husband he's hot wwwww ]

[ ❤️❤️❤️ ]

[ Will you ever show us your husband?? ]

[ ❤️❤️ ]

[ Let's respect their privacy ]

"You're right. My husband and I like things the way they are and I don't want to spook him by asking him to come on cam with me. He's actually very shy… But I suppose that's what makes him so charming."

Yuuta chuckled at your remark, just enough for your viewers to hear. Your screen erupted with hearts and even more reactions when he reached out to ruffle your hair. 

"He is my home, and I'm so happy that my heart is always safe next to his."

Your coffee table vibrated as your work phone lit up with a call from your manager Sana. You picked it up. "Hello, Sa-chan?… Oh, right! Of course, how could I forget?"

You turned to your ongoing livestream once more and gave your viewers another smile and a kind bow. "I'll have to cut our conversation short because I have some work to do! Thank you all again so much for your support for 'Ever I Wander', and for me in general! Please stay safe and let's talk again soon!" 

[ Livestream ended ]

"I'll drive you," Yuuta stated as he grabbed his black jacket on the couch. "Send me the details on LINE."

"Oh, sweetheart, you don't have to! I know it's your day off and all and you should be resting…" You told him as you fixed your setup and dismantled your little tripod. 

"And miss out on seeing you on the job again? You know it's always my pleasure to be at your beck and call," He said with a small laugh. "Plus, I want to make sure you get there safe."

"You're right. What better way to ensure my safety than by driving me there yourself?" You replied to him before planting a tender kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, baby!"

What was once his duty became his very pleasure— standing right next to you as you both pursued your dreams, your hearts safe and content right next to each other. 

✦ Original post (From Sept 2023, updated date to Feb 2024) ✦ Paraselene Playlist ✦ ✦ AO3 Link

[ryukatters]

it's your fault for loving me — y. okkotsu ⁺˚⋆｡°✩

⟡ pairing: yuuta okkotsu x fem!reader

⟡ cw: /DARK CONTENT, /yandere! yuuta, /dubcon, /NONCON, ex-bf!yuuta, stalking, he breaks into your apartment, he /manhandles you (he’s strong), /implied babytrapping, /possessiveness, MINORS DNI

⟡ wc: 2.9k (someone sedate me)

⟡ song inspo: language by brent faiyaz

⟡ summary: Your ex boyfriend breaks into your apartment. What do you mean he needs to leave? He’s staying right here.

The slow, muffled drag of your feet ricochet off the hallway walls as you trudge along to your apartment. You fumble with your keys for a little bit, but find no resistance as you insert it into the slot. 

“Huh, that’s odd…I could’ve sworn I locked it.”

You chalk it up to exhaustion. You're only practically ever home to sleep due to the way you've been throwing yourself onto mission after mission. Even now, sleep is a luxury you can barely afford. You kick off your shoes lazily, not bothering putting them in their rightful place on the shoe rack. 

Maybe before, you would have cared more about keeping the house tidy. Or maybe before, your loving boyfriend would pamper and coddle you the minute you opened the front door, so you never had to worry about the little details like putting your shoes in the right place.

You were exhausted. 

You wanted nothing more than to wash up and plop down onto your soft, soft bed. You don’t even make it to your bedroom door before you pause, anxiety prickling your nerves. 

You sense him before you see him. Yuuta’s cursed energy has always had a tendency to seep out whenever he was around you. Whether it’s a testament to how he’s able to fully relax in your presence or a display of raw power, you’re not sure. 

"You're home," a certain black-haired sorcerer chirps. "How was your mission?"

In the past, simply hearing Yuuta’s voice would be enough to melt away the pent up stress from a hard day of exorcizing curses. It’d soothe your aching muscles and tired soul as you let yourself be enveloped by the weight of his affection. But right now, it did everything except that. 

The shiver of excitement that used to run down your spine is replaced by trepidation caused by the only person who used to be able to comfort you. 

You know better than to ask how he knew you were on a mission, much less ask how he managed to break into your apartment. It seems he's been in here for a while, with the way he seems to have made himself at home on your bed, much like the way he used to before. 

"Why are you here?"

The question makes him sit up. 

“Because I missed you. Is that so bad?”

You want to laugh. The whole situation is all sorts of fucked up, and the two of you are talking about it the same way one would the weather.

“Yuuta, we broke up 2 months ago,” you press, vexation lacing your words. You could never imagine yourself using that tone on him. Yuuta’s always been so meticulous in loving you, in making sure you were happy.  He’s never given you a reason to be upset with him. But that was then, and this was now. 

You could say whatever you wanted to say. You were tired and definitely not in the mood to deal with a supposed burglar that happens to be in the form of your ex-boyfriend.

“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” he says simply.

“You walked out on me!”

“Because I thought you needed some space. And now I’m back. But I never said we were breaking up.” 

Space was an extremely generous term for what Yuuta gave you. If you could consider watching your every move from a distance, keeping tabs on who you talk to, and making sure you stay out of trouble secretly, “space.” He would never let you know that though. It’s too much, too soon.

He couldn't help it, not when his precious baby could get hurt. He’d never forgive himself if that happened.

“Come and sit, my love. You look so tired.” He pats the space next to him. You will your heart not to flutter at the familiar nickname. 

Your body moves before your brain can catch up. It’s almost like listening to him was muscle memory. You pause in your step, cross your arms, and glare at him. 

“Leave, Yuuta. I don’t want to see you.” The words rise from the very depths of your soul and spill out of your mouth like bile, burning and spiteful. It hurts to speak to him like this, even after he’d abandoned you with no hopes of return. 

“Sit, love.” A little more demanding this time. “I’m not repeating myself again.” 

The tension in the air is palpable, so thick you can cut it with a knife.

You take a seat. Yuuta doesn’t miss a beat before he has his hands on you. 

“Missed you,” his hand reaches out to cup your jaw, thumb rubbing against the plushness of your cheek. 

You’ve always been so soft, it’s one of the things Yuuta loves the most about you. 

You flinch. Blame it on the adrenaline coursing through your body like wildfire. Your fight or flight response is shot. Yuuta’s touch seems to rewrite everything that’s been hardwired into your brain. 

He presses a chaste kiss to your temple, before moving down to kiss the tip of your nose, and both of your cheeks. Each press of his lips leaves feels like it’s being seared into your flesh, a metaphorical branding iron of sorts— to show that you’re Yuuta’s and Yuuta’s only. 

Your mind goes blank when he sucks a kiss into the side of your neck, whimpering pathetically as he grazes his teeth along the sensitive skin. 

“We can’t do this,” you assert, but the words get stuck in your throat, so it comes out more as a whiny sigh. Your body seems to have a tendency to betray you when it comes to him.

“But we can,” Yuuta coos, pushing you down until your back is flat against the mattress. He takes both of your hands in his, lifting them up until they’re above your head, effectively pinning you in place. “We’re doing it right now, aren’t we?” 

Yuuta can appear pretty unassuming to outsiders. He’s quiet, reserved, almost meek. If one were to take a closer look, however, they’d realize that beneath that unostentatious front was a more commanding aura, one that forces you to submit to his whims with his sweet tongue and sensuous touches. Perfectly calculated, perfectly executed. 

"I fucking hate you,” you spit, thrashing against his hold, but to no avail. 

"No you don't,” Yuuta shuts you down with conviction. Like it’s the absolute truth— the kind that can’t be twisted or broken. It almost feels like he’s chastising you for thinking otherwise. “Take that back right now.”

To be honest, hearing those words stung more than any physical blow you could have ever landed on him. Has he not shown you enough love? Or have you already forgotten? 

Isn’t what you have pure love? 

A hand wraps around your neck, lithe fingers inching up before they grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him.  “I said,” blunt fingernails digging into your skin, “take it back.”

You sputter out an apology with teary eyes, an odd mix of humiliation and regret seeping into your bones, stomach swirling with shame and to your horror, a tinge of anticipation. 

It’s pathetic, really, how easily you give in. 

“Now give me a kiss, sweetheart.” Yuuta bridges the gap between the two of you. He presses his already throbbing bulge against your clothed pussy, moaning into your mouth appreciatively.

You feel so dizzy you think you might explode. 

Yuuta makes quick work of the buttons on your uniform, releasing your wrists so he can throw the offending garment and all your underthings beneath it to some random corner of the room. 

Calloused hands roam your body, squeezing and groping, as if to map out the cartography of your flesh, committing each peak and valley to memory. He watches in fascination how your skin bristles with goosebumps in the wake of his touch. 

He ignores your pleading cries and attempts to push him off. Yuuta is being driven by pure instinct alone. That sick, twisted voice in his head that he’s always tried to suppress whispers. It goads him on to take what he wants, to make sure you remember that you’re his, and his alone. 

He knows that you haven’t been seeing anyone. You were always so loyal, even when you were upset with him. Anyone who did try was taken care of the minute they left your sight. 

It’s been far too long since he’s had you. His desire fills him with a sort of quiet rage, one that metamorphoses into something darker, more sinister and morose the longer he goes without you. Almost like a curse that’s gone far too long without feeding. 

Yuuta Okkotsu loves you to the point of madness.

He thinks he might literally implode in on himself any second longer without you.

It’s almost laughable how different the two of you are. An ethereal beauty too good for this world, yet here you were in between the legs of a cursed man with too much love than he knows what to do with. 

“Yuuta, please,” you cry out. You flail your legs in an attempt to kick Yuuta off. He catches both with ease, throwing them over his shoulder to slide your bottoms off, leaving you completely bare. 

He can’t suppress the groan that tumbles past his lips. You’re even more beautiful than he remembers. 

You’re dewy eyed and gasping, nails clawing at his forearms and beating at his chest in a last ditch effort to stand your ground. Nothing can deter him. 

Yuuta could easily heal himself if he wanted to. But the angry red welts and blossoming hues of purple on his pale skin are a badge of honor of the utmost prestige. It’s undeniable proof that you’re real, that his love for you isn’t just a fragment of his imagination, and that none of this was just some pipe dream. He could take a little pain if that meant you got to be his. 

He’s always been yours without any reservations. 

“You can cry if you want, if it helps,” he says genuinely, but the gleam in his eyes shifts into something predatory. “But you should know you’re really fucking wet.” As if to prove a point, he slowly fucks his middle finger into your weeping hole, then his index, then his ring. They curl up to rub against that spongy spot just the way you like. 

You let out a sharp gasp, spine arching off the mattress. 

You tried to ignore him—detach yourself from the whole situation, let him get his fill, and be done with this whole ordeal. But it’s Yuuta— the man has a grasp on both the corporal and spiritual parts of you that you can’t bring yourself to understand. It seems like he knows you better than you know yourself sometimes. And right now, he’s managed to make a home in all five of your senses. There’s no escape. He's made sure of that. 

He pulls out his fingers with a lewd squelch. A clear sheen of liquid coats every digit, stringy as he parts them to show you. He smiles knowingly.

“You keep fighting me, but it turns out you want it after all, sweetheart.” 

Your cheeks burn in humiliation. Whether it’s from the situation at hand or the truth behind his words, you’re not too sure. 

“Don’t you know?” Yuuta rasps, fingers going back to work their way inside you rhythmically, bringing you closer and closer to the precipice, paying special attention to how you try to mask how your face contorts in pleasure. 

He presses his forehead against yours, willing you to look at him wordlessly. “I know what’s best for you. I know what you want. And right now, this little pussy wants to be fucked. Isn’t that right, my love?” 

He’s met with a breathless moan. You’re so close. Tears threaten to fall as your chest heaves in exertion, trying not to teeter off the edge too soon. 

You look so pathetic it’s insane. Yuuta swears he can feel his mouth water in anticipation for what’s bound to come next. He thrusts his fingers with calculating speed and precision, the heel of his palm slapping against your neglected clit just right. 

He leans down right when you cum, lips catching yours as you moan into his mouth. Satisfaction swells in his chest as your slick drips down his wrist. 

“You’re ready.” 

Yuuta unbuttons his pants, pulling it down just enough for his cock to spring free, tip slapping his abdomen as it leaks with precum. He fists it, jerking his hand up and down his length. He slaps it against your clit once, twice, and a third time before he slips it inside your weeping hole. 

Your walls spasm around his cock to accommodate his sheer size and girth, struggling a bit more than usual. You feel so full. It’s been far too long since he’s fucked you. You claw at his lower abdomen, trying to make space between the two of you. It’s all too much, all at once. Yuuta won’t have it. He slips his hands under your sweaty thighs, pinning your ankles on either side of your head, effectively folding you in half. You cry out at the stretch.

“Always take me so well, angel.” 

He sets a steady pace, dragging his cock in, pulling out, and then back in with an absurd amount of force. The sound of skin on skin ricochets against your bedroom walls like a sort of cacophonous symphony. You don’t get the luxury of the sweet, slow thrusts he usually blesses you with, while he coos about how good you are for him. 

“Where’s all that attitude from earlier? Am I making you feel that good?” 

You glower, refusing to acknowledge the fact that your body betrays your mind— that Yuuta’s bringing you closer and closer to nirvana the further he drags you down into hell. 

He slides his hand down your tummy, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts.

“Yuuta—!” You clench around his length, hurtling towards your second orgasm quickly. 

“You’re so greedy. Cumming again already?” 

He’s met with silence. He’ll forgive your transgressions this time around. He’ll just have to teach you how to be his good girl again. 

A particularly rough thrust has you choking back a moan.

“Thought so. Cum for me, sweetheart.”

Your peak hits you like a crashing wave. Your body tenses, leaving you gasping for air as you clench around Yuuta’s cock. You cry out deliriously, falling apart as Yuuta continues to pound into you. It’s too much, but you can’t pull away even if you tried. You’re stuck.

“I’m the only one that can make you feel this way, understand?” He grits his teeth, staving off his release just a little longer. He fucks you through your orgasm thoroughly as he chases his own. 

He presses all of his body weight on top of you, your legs on either side of his head as he folds you into a mating press. He groans at the change in position, allowing him to fuck into you even deeper. 

Realization cuts through your cloudy judgment like a sword. 

“Yuuta— Yuuta, please. Pull out–!” 

Your pleas fall on deaf ears. He’s rambling now, intoxicated by all you have to offer, yet you’re the one paying the price. The effects of overstimulation are taking over now, your body twitching involuntarily with each thrust. 

“I’m not leaving you, ever. It’s just you and me.” 

You shake your head in objection, mind too hazy to voice out any resistance. Tears well up, threatening to spill from your lash line. 

Yuuta nods with a grin, canines glinting, just like a predator that’s caught its prey. “It’s true, sweetheart. I’ll make sure of it. Say I’m it for you. That I’m the only one.” 

“Say it.” 

“You’re it for me, Yu. The only one.” You babble, tears streaming freely now. 

You feel the moment he reaches his plateau— the way his dick twitches inside of you right before your walls are being painted white with splashes of Yuuta’s hot cum. 

Your fate’s been sealed. 

He fucks into you a few more times, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he rides out his orgasm. A white ring wraps around the base of his cock, the copious amounts of seed he’s poured into you threatening to leak out. 

Yuuta doesn’t bother pulling out. In a quick show of dexterity and freak strength, he manages to flip the both of you so that your positions are switched, with you lying on top of Yuuta’s chest. The steady beat of his heart fills your mind. 

Your entire body is on fire. You feel numb. You let yourself be carried away by the prospect of sleep, hoping that you’ll wake up to find that this was all just some wild fragment of your imagination.  

He presses a hand against your head, like he was afraid you’d pull away and ruin whatever fantasy he’s deluded himself into believing. 

The simple truth is– Yuuta Okkotsu loves you. And he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that no one else gets in the way of that. 

He runs his hand up and down your bare back lovingly, admiring your spent form. You’ve always been so soft. So pliant, so willing to give in to his desires. 

It’s the thing that Yuuta loves most about you. 

a/n: i had to reupload bc this hellsite sucks. hopefully this shows up in the tags now

tagging @princess-okkotsu again hehe

[banjjakz]

Seven Days at Granny Orimoto's Flower Shop ; Yuuta x F!Reader

My name is Okkotsu Yuuta. I am a recent graduate of a martial arts vocational school. I just completed a year-long internship abroad in Africa. Due to my recent re-entry into Japan, I am still in the process of setting up my phone and internet. I apologize for the inconvenience and I am extremely sorry for the burden. As a supervisor and business, you may benefit from the set of skills that I have to offer. I can lift upwards of 25kg. I am neat and detail oriented. Due to past life experiences, I am a fast learner and quick to adapt to new surroundings. I am accustomed to taking orders and delivering results. It is my utmost goal to ensure the comfort and satisfaction of those around me. I am eager to be of service. Please think of me kindly.

Or: An odd boy shows up every night begging for a job offer. Did you mention that he gives you handwritten letters? Do you have to report a workplace romance if the only other employee is your boss, who is currently dying? Asking for a friend.

notes: commission for the lovely mielle! thank you very kindly for 1) commissioning me!!!!!! and 2) putting up with my compulsion to surpass any and all word count specifications

warnings: general off-putting vibes, casual discussions of child death, implied stalking (at the very least), unethical(…? maybe ethically gray?) necromancy, etc. y'all know what's about to go down

♡‬ read on ao3 ‪♡‬

Life as a florist is every bit the dream that you’d hoped it would be.

The thought of working from nine to five in some cubicle for the rest of your life was enough to drive you out of university before even completing the feeble attempt you’d half-assedly made at a degree. While the path to your current state of employment had not been linear, easy, or even recommended, you cannot imagine ending up anywhere else.

You’re lucky enough as it is that Granny Orimoto was willing to take you on – perhaps, at first, out of pity – as a shop-hand. That day, all those months, is still as clear as unmarred waters in your mind. What a pitiful image you must have made: underfed, poorly clothed, with roving, vacant eyes.

Nevertheless, you adjusted quickly and gratefully to your new place of employment. Within months, your sense of self and purpose in life had been restored, watered and nurtured underneath the guiding light of Granny Orimoto’s flower shop. Like a corpse risen again, your days were once more filled with hope and aspirations.

Eventually, Granny Orimoto began bestowing upon you more and more responsibilities. You tend to think of your daily tasks as privileges more than anything else. You’ve graduated far beyond merely ringing customers up on the till – at this point, you’re somewhat of a budding horticulturalist. Or, at least, that’s what you’d like to think on your good days.

Recently, Granny Orimoto has even begun to entrust you to manage the shop on your lonesome for several days out of the week. It used to be the case that she would require you to work only hours that coincided with her own availability, so that you might fall under her constant supervision. Of course, this was back when you could barely keep a plant alive. Nowadays, things are quite different.

Quite different, indeed.

On this slow, Monday evening, managerial status finds its way to you once more. Closing the shop used to feel weird, without Granny Orimoto there to lay into you about your posture, or your clumsiness, or your naturally shy, stuttering nature. Now, it’s starting to feel eerily more and more like business as usual.

When the bell above the front door rings, you don’t think too much of it – this town is a bit of a tourist trap, so there are quite a few out-of-towners who aren’t used to respecting closing times. Usually, you’re too nice to shoo them out, but the weight of the day bears heavily upon your apron-clad shoulders.

But when you spin around on your heel, the polite-yet-firm “we closed four minutes ago” withers on your tongue like dead leaves crumbling away upon the unrepentant, earthen ground.

The most disturbing thing is not that he’s exactly your type of handsome: tall, gaunt, malnourished, with a strange, lost look in his wideset eyes. It would be easier, somehow, if your immediate and arresting attraction to the gangly stranger was the most of your worries.

Perhaps what unnerves you so, is the fact that you are powerless to do anything but devote the entirety of your attention to the odd young man. The terra cotta pot once in your grasp has suddenly been placed on the nearest shelf. The gardener’s gloves on your hands have now been stripped away and flung carelessly to the ground, the delicate flesh of your fingers on display for the world to see.

“Are you hiring?” He asks. The lights flicker. Granny Orimoto should really stop fighting you about calling an electrician – they aren’t that expensive.

No, is what you should say, because you don’t have the authority to answer this question and also the thought of having to train someone else when you are just barely getting the hang of your newfound managerial status is a terrifying prospect.

And yet, what ends up leaving your mouth is:

“Yes.”

His black hair is overgrown and in dire need of a trim. The bangs are in a liminal state: too short to part, too long for comfort. It dangles limply in his eyes. Those eyes. Big and glassy and dark, like a dead doe gazing up, unseeingly, at the sky.

“Okay,” he says. “Is there an application that I could fill out?”

Is he not cold? The weather chills significantly at night, and his layers look rather thin. Or maybe that’s just the way the clothes hang off of him. “No, it’s alright. You can just – um, you’re good.”

“I’m…?”

“You’re good,” you repeat and then you have to fight for control over your own body, so that you can turn around and break eye contact before it actually kills you.  “When can you start? Do you have a phone number? Um, so we can get in touch with you about scheduling and training and verify your location and such and so forth.”

Okay, that last sentence was hastily tacked on. You’ll be the first to admit that much. But what kind of girl would you look like, asking a random stranger for his number out of the blue?

You hear more than you see him shuffle his feet, still lingering awkwardly in the doorway. “Um, no, sorry. I don’t have a phone.”

“E-mail?”

“Ah..no…would communication via letter be alright?”

What is his problem?

He shows up, four minutes past closing, poorly dressed and clearly in poor health, as well, to inquire about a job opening, and doesn’t even have a phone or any form of contact to provide other than handwritten correspondence?

Is this a prank? Are you being pranked, right now? You pause your fastidious, frustrated handling of today’s arranged bouquets just to surreptitiously scan your surroundings for any hidden cameras.

It’s like the man of your dreams has walked through the door. It’s almost too good to be true. You know you have eclectic tastes—and this is exactly why you’ve never had a boyfriend, before.

Because what living man could possibly compare to the fictional freakshows you stay up late at night reading about? Who would be worth fawning over, when you are already well equipped with a wealth of off-putting – and, quite frankly, disturbing – characters of ill-repute? Never has there been a living, breathing vessel capable of catching your jaded, heavy eyes.

Until now, that is.

“Sure,” you say, allowing the brain-rot to take control of your faculties. “Give me one second to write down our mailing information.”

But before you can cling desperately to another excuse to evade his magnetic presence, the strange boy speaks up, alluring you with the unsettlingly tranquil timbre of his voice: “That won’t be necessary. I can hand deliver the letters every day, around this time.”

You blink, sizing him up once more. Any normal human being would find this situation incredibly odd and even worth of a police report.

However, you’re comfortable in your own skin and are able to recognize that the screws you’ve knocked loose over time have, for better or worse, permanently altered your threshold for “red” or “green” flag recognition. For all you care, the flag could be purple. You aren’t thinking about flags right now. You’re thinking about his murky bangs, dark and deep, a rich obsidian, metastasizing over the smooth expanse of his alabaster forehead like a natural disaster.

“Okay. I’ll be waiting at this time every night, then.”

For the first time this evening, his gaunt face split into a tender grin, pink lips parting like spliced flesh. Somehow, he’s able to make the act of smiling something gory, something haunting. Your eyes are glued to the bone-white of his teeth. It’s like watching a car crash. You want, desperately, to look away. You cannot.

“I’m glad,” says the strange boy. “I’ll be here every night, right on time.”

A soft breeze stirs outside, just restless enough to tickle teasingly at the windchimes which dangle from the shop’s awning. Usually, the barrier of the front door dulls the melody. Tonight, you can hear the bells loud and clear.

Before you can think to demand (beg) that he reveal additional identifying information about himself – like, say, his name – the boy has all but disappeared from sight. Incredulously, you whirl around on your heel, scanning every visible inch of the shop for any possible clue as to where he went. But your searching is all for naught. It seems that he is, both in presence and absence, a complete mystery to you.

Well. There are certainly worse things that have happened to you. At least you got to chat with a cute, creepy guy for your trouble.

;

The next day, Granny Orimoto abstains from work yet again. Her modest apartment sitting atop the flower shop has kept her out of sight for many days, now. You’re no stranger to her fits and bursts of ill health, but you cannot recall the last time the brusque, full-hearted old lady has been bedridden for such a prolonged length of time.

You almost consider trying to drop by unannounced to bring her some soup and vitamins, but the thought dies immediately upon arrival. Memories of the last time you’d tried to caretake for her and were subsequently thrown out with indignant, irate gusto are enough to curb your momentary sympathy.

This means that you are effectively head of shop, once more. Over time, it gets easier to deal with the random accidents prone to any small, self-run business: leaks, clogs, jams, flickering lights, disappearing items, strange sounds at odd hours with an unlocatable source. All of it, you handle with def improvisational methods.

Even the spontaneously shattering bathroom mirror is no match for your handywoman capabilities! Really, Granny Orimoto should be lucky that it is you who happened to show up on her doorstep just as her health began to take a dive.

These are the kinds of thoughts buzzing around your skull as twilight descends upon the horizon like flies to a carcass. The death of the day is, as usual, a bloody affair: hues of bright vermillion spill across the sky, setting everything in the shop a brilliant, flagrant shade of fresh-burning red. The terracotta pots seem almost to be radiating with internal heat.

Night comes soon enough, bringing with it a brisk chill in the air. The wind rustles the windchimes, a forewarning of what is to come.

And sure enough, at 8:04 P.M., there he is, lingering in the doorway, daring to take not one step past the threshold, just as he’d done yesterday, that first night.

“Good evening.”

Clutched in his fingers is a wrinkled letter, wrapped in plain stationery. He offers it to you with both hands, politely.  

The space between the both of you evaporates in the fraction of a second it takes for you to cross the shop and greet him back, accepting the letter with greedy hands and a greedier heart. “Good evening. Thank you for the correspondence.”

“Thank you for receiving it,” he replies, scratching the back of his head in a stupidly endearing self-conscious gesture. “I know the manner of communication is a bit unconventional… sorry about that…”

“It’s okay.” And it really is. You, of all people, are no stranger to unforeseen and harrowing life circumstances. That the young man does not possess a phone or email address is not so uncommon, anyways – you’ve had time to reflect on the situation, and for all his off-putting looks and strangely formal manner of speaking, he could easily be a country mouse who has recently relocated to a more urban area. Who are you to judge?

“Shall I have a response waiting for you tomorrow night?”

He bows, then, for a bit longer and a bit deeper than what is normally appropriate for two virtual strangers. “I’d be grateful. Thank you for the trouble.”  

Once more, he evaporates seemingly into thin air, leaving behind not even the faintest trace of his existence. He appears to possess an uncanny ability to slip out of sight just as your eyes fall shut in the millisecond it takes to blink, to breathe.

Taken in stride with his dark-circled eyes and general aura of mysterious tragedy, the whole schtick is a little bit sexy, you have to admit. His vibe is that of a haunted family heirloom: beautiful, priceless, stained in generations of blood and cursed to doom those who dare to draw too near.

Your eagerness is almost feral as you tear apart the seal to the envelope in your hands, greedily pawing at the innards. What awaits you is a handwritten letter, complete with smudged pencil marks obscuring some of the more intricate kanji scribbled onto the page. Some of his radicals waver, lines bending or sprawling in odd and abnormal ways, as though he’d been shaking when we wrote it.

 As though he’d been nervous. So nervous, in fact, that upon handing you the thing, he had to immediately abscond from the premises without another word.

Cute.

To Whom it May Concern,

Thank you very kindly for your willingness to take me on as an apprentice to your shop. Please allow me to introduce myself.

My name is Okkotsu Yuuta. I am a recent graduate of a martial arts vocational school. I just completed a year-long internship abroad in Africa. Due to my recent re-entry into Japan, I am still in the process of setting up my phone and internet. I apologize for the inconvenience and I am extremely sorry for the burden.

As a supervisor and business, you may benefit from the set of skills that I have to offer. I can lift upwards of 25kg. I am neat and detail oriented. Due to past life experiences, I am a fast learner and quick to adapt to new surroundings. I am accustomed to taking orders and delivering results. It is my utmost goal to ensure the comfort and satisfaction of those around me. I am eager to be of service.

Please think of me kindly.

Upon reading the very last word of the very last line, you discover that your bottom lip has been bitten so severely that a fine trickle of blood is descending down your chin.

There is no resume or CV in sight – just this handwritten, strangle little letter in which he divulges some most interesting truths.

Is he playing mind games with you? “Accustomed to taking orders”? “Eager to be of service”? Is he trying to tell you something? Outside of the hiring process, that is.

The note itself is perfectly polite and proper. It’s you whose mind succumbs hedonistically to the gutter. Oh, for shame.

 At night, the shop tends to turn into a gnarly jungle of pots and leaves and vines and poorly-placed smatterings of soil; you wade through theses trenches, aided by no more than the moonlight attempting to feebly infiltrate through the shutters – as the lights are out, again. Should probably call someone about that.

In your frantic haste, it’s a miracle your hands aren’t sliced by a spare pair of shears lying forgotten on some counter or another. Before injury occurs, you’ve already located what you’ve been searching for: a usable pen and some clean, uncrumpled paper.

The matchbox in your back pocket proves useful as you strike up a flame and light a nearby candle, paying no mind to the potential danger of the wobbly column of fire in a room full of fauna.

Like a woman possessed, you feverishly scribble away at your reply. It takes you longer to draft this one particular letter than it had to complete your college entrance exams.

But it’s alright – the candle beside you burns throughout the night, neither the wick nor the wax diminishing even a wink.

Dear Okkotsu,

Your eagerness to work hard is clearly evident. Color me impressed.

As fate would have it, I am in dire need of some help with running the shop. The owner has been absent with illness for quite some time and the workload is starting to get unmanageable. The addition of a strong set of arms is more than welcome. Even when it was the two of us putzing around, we still wouldn’t have been able to do some of the heavier lifting.

I’m curious to hear more about your passion to serve. Was this instilled in you during your time at vocational school? What does “being of service” mean to you?

While we are ultimately a public-facing shop, the stream of customers is slow, and your daily tasks will often look like physical labor and horticultural activities. But, from your letter, it sounds like this will pose no object.

Overall, your enthusiasm is appreciated and your hard-working attitude is attractive to future employers.

You could start as early as tomorrow.

Please do respond at your convenience.

It was rather quickly with only a slight bit of panic running through your veins that you tacked on “to future employers.” Even while reading it back, you cringe a little bit. Too forward? Oh well. It’s written in ink and it’s much too late to go for hunting for another clean piece of paper in the shop’s opaque blackness.

Speaking of which… you really should call an electrician. And a plumber. And some sort of handy man, to help you clean up all the broken glass from the shattered bathroom mirror. And maybe it may also me a good idea to get in touch with a security footage company and inquire about their installation rates. It certainly can’t be normal; how many things go missing so frequently. Although you’ve spent most of your waking hours with an aging elderly woman up until very recently, you’re quite sure that dementia isn’t contagious.

Ah, well. These are all things to take care of tomorrow. Sighing, you tuck away the letter into your back pocket for safe keeping before you go about locking up.

You try not to think too hard about the lingering gaze you feel on the back of your neck. If anything, it feels better than being completely alone.

;

The fragrant scent of okayu fills your nose as you climb the stairs to reach Granny Orimoto’s apartment.

Usually, you would not dare to trespass inside her abode, despite it’s close proximity to the shop. She is a grouchy old lady who does not take kindly to meddling. And yet, you couldn’t ignore the seed of worry in the pit of your belly, which had blossomed over the course of the past few weeks into full-blown concern for her wellbeing. Besides her once-daily text message in the evening confirming the status of shop operations, you have not seen or heard from the old woman in what must be almost half a month at this point.

So, you’ve bitten back your pride and prepared a meal to personally deliver to her.

You are moderately concerned when there is no response to your three separate attempts at knocking on the door. Granny Orimoto hadn’t responded to any of your text messages, so you’d naively assumed she’d been asleep and hadn’t seen them. But is it possible to sleep through the ruckus that you’re creating?

The tension in your body only heightens when you try to the doorknob and realize, in shock and slight horror, that it’s open.

“Granny Orimoto?” You call out, haltingly yet loudly – loud enough to reach her wizened ears. “Granny, I’m sorry, I’ll be coming in now! Pardon the intrusion!”

Taking care not to jostle the still-hot bowl of rice porridge in your hands, you slip off your shoes at the Genkan and make your way inside of the apartment. Although you’ve only been here once before – and it had been an extremely brief stay before Granny Orimoto had shooed you off the premises – it still doesn’t feel all that unfamiliar to you.

It’s a traditional set-up, that much is for sure. Not much has changed, either. Same old floral blankets folded in various assortments and piles around the tiny room, same old plastic draining rack laid across the kitchen sink.

And, of course, there is that strange pair of guest slippers by the front door.

A bright, childish pink with the width and depth to accompany the foot of a young girl no older than six, these slippers had given you pause the first time you’d set foot in Granny Orimoto’s apartment. As far as you know, the old lady doesn’t have any living relatives with which she maintains contact. She spends every holiday alone, in her room, and refuses any offers of companionship between the two of you. You’ve always assumed something tragic must have happened, for a woman this advanced in age to have no one to visit or host during the New Year.

So why, then, does she keep a pair of children’s house slippers by the front door?

Although they are neatly placed and carefully aligned, the heels of the slippers face the direction of the household – as though they’ve been recently taken off and exchanged for outside shoes. Like someone has been here and left. Were they in that position when you stopped by before? Perhaps Granny Orimoto set them that way during her last cleaning.

Shaking yourself out of your reverie, you move past the entrance area and towards where you know the bedroom awaits. There is no overt stench of death and decay, so you aren’t afraid of walking in on her corpse. You’re, like, 85% sure that you could mentally recover from handling that situation, but it would be unfortunate and would likely mean an endless night for you and the poor EMTs who would be dispatched to the scene.

The bedroom door, too, is slightly ajar, and when you push it open all the way, you’re greeted by a sight that hits you squarely in the chest, knocking the wind from your lungs, stealing your voice, marring your eyes with shock and sympathy.

Granny Orimoto lies on her back, skin so pale that it is a near perfect match to the futon covers draped around her frail body. Even from this distance, you are able to clearly track the pathway of her veins as they course across her, the deep blues and greens standing out abnormally against the thin, alabaster flesh. Her hair, significantly grayer than the last time you’d seen her, has escaped from it’s usual, customary low-slung bun. You’ve never seen Granny Orimoto in any other kind of style – in fact, you’d begun to think – somewhat mischievously – that her hair had been surgically arranged to the nape of her neck.

But now, it sprawls around her skull in scraggly spirals, spilling across the pillow like leaking liquid. Thin and brittle, you’re sure that if she tried to gather it into a bun as she once had, it would split and break into a million fine pieces of ash.

“So, you’ve come.”

That hoarse voice snaps you out of your trance. You hadn’t even noticed that she was awake. One moment, you’d been gazing at her motionless body – and the next, you find her entirely unchanged except for the fact that her eyes are now open, peering at you. Unblinking. It’s disconcerting.

It looks like the effort pains her, to lift one hand and pat weakly at the comforter. “You came all the way here, silly girl. Might as well sit.”

You aren’t being kicked out?

Wow. She really must be dying.

Gingerly, you fold your legs beneath you and linger at the edge of the futon. “Granny, how are you feeling? I brought okayu. If you are feeling up to it, please eat. You must take care of your health.”

“Alright then,” says Granny Orimoto, mildly. “You’ll have to help me.”

“Of course.”

There is ultimately an insignificant amount of spillage down the front of her shirt, in the end. Still, you take it as an opportunity to encourage her to take a bath and change into fresh clothes, which you expect she has not done in far too long. This, too, requires your assistance. You don’t mind it at all. In fact, it brings you peace – to be able to care for the woman who had most probably saved your life by taking you in, all that time ago.

When it’s all said and done, Granny Orimoto lays back in the bed. The sheets could use some washing and the futon itself should surely be hung out in the sun to dry, but you recognize that this might be a bit too much excitement for her today. Having eaten and bathed, Granny Orimoto appears ready to return to her slumber.

You decide not to push your luck by overstaying your welcome. “Please rest well, Granny Orimoto. I will come back soon.”

It is when you are almost past the threshold of the bedroom door that you hear Granny’s whisper, faint as smoke and so soft it almost doesn’t sound like the stubborn, strong-willed woman you once knew:

“You remind me of my granddaughter.”

As though you’ve been struck by lightning, your body is immediately paralyzed, muscles helpless to do anything but twitch in confusion, overstimulation. “Oh…? I hope she is well…”

“She’s dead,” says Granny Orimoto. “The stench of death follows you.”

Ironic, coming from a woman who is quite obviously preparing to approach the far shore herself. “I see.”

“Whatever is hanging around you, get it taken care of. You’ll stink up the shop and the plants will wither.”

“Yes, Granny.”

“Are you taking care of my zinnias?”

“Yes, Granny.”

“Better be. How can you own a flower shop if you can’t take care of zinnias…”

You want to whip around and ask her what the hell she means by that, but the rumbling of her soft snores fill the space before you can get another word in edgewise.

As you make your way downstairs, Granny’s words continue to marinate in your mind – and not just her implication that the shop would be left to you. That she thought it fit to tell you that you remind her of her dead granddaughter was certainly an event that occurred in your life. But what exactly had she been on about, telling you that you smell like death?

In absentminded thought, your hand fiddles around in your jacket pocket with the latest letter from Okkotsu. You can’t stop thinking about his response to your last letter.

To You, Whom it Concerns,

Are you taking care? The seasons are changing during this time, so I hope your health is faring well.

I’m glad that my enthusiasm comes across as clearly as my physical capabilities.  Sometimes I struggle to convey my intentions and inner thoughts. It seems like we can understand each other well, even while communicating through letters, which makes me happy.

To me, being of service means unobstructed and clear-minded dedication of the self, body and mind, to another’s fulfillment. Not dissimilar to pure love. This “pure” element is important to me. In fact, I believe total service is a form of pure love. Would you agree?

Maybe this is a bit strange to say, and you might hate me for it, but you remind me of a girl I once knew. She is long gone now. It has been nice to see some of her, again. Of course, it has been even nicer to get to know you.

Regretfully, I cannot begin formal employment just yet. The country re-entry procedures are taking longer than expected and things are a bit complicated right now. It is burdensome, but if you could please kindly allow for some additional time I would be very grateful. I’m sorry to trouble you.

In the meantime, it’s fun to chat together, like this. I’d be happy if we could continue.

Take care not to catch a cold.

The first time you’d read it practically had you squealing into your hands like a schoolgirl. Pure love? Expressing concern for your health? Expressing his desire to continue exchanging letters, even if he can’t formally start the training process?

At this rate, you’re on track towards a confession.

Which, of course, is the ultimate goal. You could never forgive yourself for letting the physical manifestation of all your wildest fantasies slip away. No, you’ve got to reel him in. You’ve got to ensnare him in a web of infatuation, so convoluted and intense that he won’t be able to find his way out. You’ve already decided that he is yours. It’s only a matter of time before things fall into place.

As has become customary, Okkotsu drops by the shop at precisely 8:04 p.m. and not one moment sooner or later. You’ve grown to anticipate the tinkling of the windchimes which herald his otherwise soundless arrival. Like an apparition, his visage manifests in the front door.

There’s something different about tonight: uncertain, he chances a foot past the threshold. “Could I trouble you to come inside?”

Oh. Oh! Are you finally past the stage of contactless letter exchange? You could cry tears of joy. “Please come in.”

“Pardon the intrusion…”

When he breaks past the entry area, it’s as though a wave of heat pulses throughout not just your own body, but the entire shop, as well. A light sweat breaks out at the crest of your brow. Is this seasonally appropriate? You aren’t sure if there is any season wherein a heatwave past sundown is normal.

Okkotsu looks at you like a lost puppy, floundering at what to do, what to say next. You yourself are no less awkward, but you take on the burden of breaking the silence first:

“It’s funny, you mentioned in your letter that I remind you of a girl you once knew. Today, my boss said that I remind her of her dead granddaughter. Wouldn’t happen to be the same girl, huh?”

You’re trying for lighthearted, but the joke falls flat when Okkotsu pales, white as a ghost.

Damage control, damage control! “Oh, I’m – I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, no, it’s alright,” he cuts you off, raising a hand. “I should’ve been forthright from the beginning. You aren’t too far off from the truth.”

Huh?

Okkotsu continues, “When I was a little boy, Mrs. Orimoto’s granddaughter and I were best friends. Her name was Rika. When she was six, Rika died in a car accident. I was with her at the time and failed to do anything to stop it from happening, or to save her. I’ve always been very sorry to Mrs. Orimoto, who raised Rika from a young age. By working at her shop, I hoped to repay some of that debt…”

You blink once, twice. Time seems to fall apart and reconstruct itself in the space it takes you to conjure up a response. What can you possibly say, to a story like that?

“You don’t, er, have to say anything,” mutters Okkotsu, as though he’s read your mind. “I know it’s heavy. But that’s the truth…”

“Okkotsu,” you say, voice tinny and faraway to your own ears. “You have a good heart.”

His downcast face shoots upwards, wide eyes seeking out your own with a desperate sheen to their dark, bottomless depths. “Huh…?”

“I mean it,” you press on, stepping closer as you do. He doesn’t even flinch or waver. You know this, because your senses are acutely aware of every fiber of his being. “Not many people would be that brave, or honor that sense of duty. You’re an admirable man. Has anyone ever told you that before?”

It seems you’ll be staying well past closing tonight to mop up the puddle that Okkotsu is about to melt into. His ears burn such a bright red that they almost glow in the dim lighting of the shop.

“I- I--!”

“So that’s the depth of your service,” you muse, your toes stopping just shy of his own, “or your ‘pure love’?”

Okkotsu’s eyes flutter shut. The sound of his gulp echoes like a gunshot. “Ah… er, miss manager, I—”

“Call me by my name. I’ve written it to you for a reason.”

Obeying your direct command, he feebly whispers your name, invoking you like he’s scared of what he’s about to summon. It sets a live wire alight at the base of your spine. Sparks fly throughout your body and it’s all you can do not to pounce on him then and there in this very shop, sleeping Granny upstairs be damned.

“Good. It seems you really are skilled at taking direction.”

His eyes are still closed when you nods, face flushed. Cute. You can’t help but want to tease him more, push him further. “Good job.”

His head all but hangs, now, as he resolutely refuses to make eye contact with you. In front of him, his hands are clasped suspiciously in front of his crotch – a detail which you take in ravenously, hungrily.

Curbing the overwhelming desire to do more, you settle with pushing your sealed envelope into his firm, solid chest with both hands, letting your fingernails press lightly into the muscle. “Here’s today’s letter. Read it and respond well.”

“Yes, I understand,” he says, eyes still shut, head still hung.

It requires you to stand on your tiptoes, when you try to lean into his ear and whisper: “You deserve a chance to make things right. Let me help you with this.”

You let him go, then, because you’re sure he’s about ready to burst at the seams. The last thing you throw his way is yet another bit of praise, because you’re a little bit awful: “I admire your idea of pure love, Okkotsu.”

Before tonight, you’ve never seen a grown man walk straight into a windowpane. Okkotsu reels back, nods and bows to you in acknowledgement before hightailing it out of the shop so fast that, as usual, you fail to actually see him go through the motions of stepping out and leaving. He’s always in such a rush. An odd one, he is.

Good thing “odd” just your type.

From that night onwards, Okkotsu starts making himself more available outside of his usual 8:04 p.m. haunting. Now, he’ll drop by early enough in the afternoons for his shadow to be visible against the door. Still, he resolutely avoids any times when current customers are present. You tease him, lightly, for this, asking how he plans to work partially as a sales attendant if he is afraid to interact with the customer base.

His response?

“I want to work here for two reasons,” he’d stated simply. “For you, and for Rika.”

Normal women would probably find an issue with their ideal man likening them to his dead childhood sweetheart. Fortunately, you are not normal. It’s flattering, even.

Clearly, Rika was another manifestation of his pure love. That you can even approach that category, let alone be mentioned in the same breath as her, is, to you, a vibrant green flag. You must be doing something right here.

So you continue intertwining yourself deeper and deeper with Okkotsu Yuuta: the letters are a constant in both of your daily lives, as well as his visits become more frequent. As an interesting development, he’s started to bring you homecooked food. Usually, it is you who does the caregiving. The first time he shows up with an obento made specially for you – complete with a heart made out of specially cut seaweed set atop the fresh rice – you almost start crying.

Admittedly, it’s all moving very fast. Hasn’t it only been four days, now, since he’d first darkened your doorway, pitifully asking for a job with no form of communication? And now, here he is, feeding you the food he’d prepared for you to enjoy as you go about your closing shift.

“Would you ever want to go out?” You blurt, and then pause, mortified at the overtly forward implication to your words. “Like! To a restaurant! Or a café! You always bring me stuff. Let me treat you.”

“Hmmm…”

Okkotsu’s wide, dark eyes roll upwards in thought. “But I really like staying here. I like eating here. No one else gets to see your pleased, comfortable face while eating except me. I don’t think I can share that. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you respond, dizzy. “You don’t have to.”

This is the right answer. Despite his soft, youthful features, the ginger grin he offers you is undercut by the ominous glint in his intense gaze. “I don’t have to share?” He gathers some pickled plum in the chopsticks, bringing them to your open, waiting mouth. “It’s all for me?”

“I am,” you say, and accept the bitter, delicious fruit on the tip of your tongue. It is pungent. It is sweet. It is overwhelming. You almost aren’t able to swallow.

Time spent with Okkotsu makes life seem so fantastical that it almost blinds you to the world of the living. That night, you cannot find it within yourself to leave the shop and go home after closing, instead opting to chat with this gaunt, ghoulish boy until you are startled awake in the morning by your phone’s automatic alarm.

When you come to, you discover that you’d all but passed out behind the front desk, where the two of you had sat, talking, for hours into the night. Okkotsu is nowhere to be found, but in his absence is a crisply folded piece of paper lying innocently upon the desk. Hastily, you scrub at your eyes and smack your lips, trying to wake yourself up as much as is possible before you unfurl the letter and dive into its contents.

To You, Whom it Concerns,

Do you have any idea how difficult it is to be apart from you?

If I could have, I would have stayed with you all throughout the night. I’m sorry to have left you by yourself. But you aren’t really alone. If you ever feel lonely, in the shop, please remember that I’m always there with you. Watching over you. Can you feel me?

Thanks for listening to me last night. It was a heavy story to tell, but now that I’ve confessed it, I feel so much lighter. And you accept me! Words can’t express how I feel, so please allow me to keep showing you.

Also, since Mrs. Orimoto isn’t well these days, can I ask that you don’t share with her that I’m here? The shock may worsen her condition. When she is no longer bedridden, I will tell her myself that I wish to remain and work in the shop. You shouldn’t be caught in the middle of my situation.

As always, I can’t wait to see you again. I miss you so much already, and I haven’t even left the shop yet. I’m writing this as I watch you sleep. Did you know that you snore a little bit? It’s cute.

Please think of me often.

On the one hand, you want to bury your face in your hands and scream and cry and maybe roll around and die a little bit. A love note! It’s a proper love note, this time. The thought makes your insides feel as though they’re being set alight with a bright, brilliant, inextinguishable flame.

On the other hand, Okkotsu’s mention of Granny Orimoto has brought to mind the fact that you haven’t heard from her in what is now two days. Usually, she’ll send you a message or two at the end of every day, making sure that things are in order and that you haven’t burned down the shop yet. But the last time you’d spoken to her had been when you brought over the okayu to soothe her sickly stomach…

Inexplicably, a chill overtakes your body.

Operating on autopilot, you pull yourself together – running a hand through your hair, smoothing your wrinkled clothes – and make your way out of the shop, to the external set of stairs running along the west wall.

With haste, you climb the steps, nearly tripping over yourself to reach the front door which has been left, once again, unlocked. The sense of wrongness occupying your faculties only heightens when you realize this must mean that Granny Orimoto has not been up out of bed since you’d last visited.

When you stop to toe off your shoes at the genkan, you notice that the bright pink pair of children’s house slippers are nowhere to be found, absent from their perpetual perch by the front door, as though someone – or something – has stepped inside.

Mind whirling a mile a minute, you push into the apartment and immediately reel back at the offensive scent of pure, unadulterated rot.

Oh.

Oh, no.

It could be the spoiled ingredients in the fridge, you think, desperately, as you hustle towards the bedroom. It could be anything. Anything but what it is you’re most afraid of.

Dazed, confused, scared, and still freshly woken up, your clumsy limbs somehow manage to collide with one of the low-sitting tables filling the living space. The abundance of knick-knacks and keepsakes cluttering the surface clatter in indignation, making an obscene ruckus as they fall over and to the floor. Upon closer inspection, you realize, to your horror, that it is an altar which you’d disturbed.

The only things left unshaken by your blundering blight are two framed photos: one of which displays the portrait of a young girl, no older than six, with long, dark hair and a serene smile. She seems to peer at you through the barriers of the picture frame, through the barrier of time. Her gaze hooks into your soul and invites you to step closer, to look harder. The longer you stare, the higher the gooseflesh on your skin raises in alarm. It’s an uphill battle to slide your gaze over to the picture beside her, which displays the likeness of a young boy close to her in age – presumably unrelated to her, given their distinct features, and yet, he is placed next to her on what is surely a memorial altar meant to honor and house the deceased.

While the personal effects and other supplicating items have all been disrupted and thrown off by your collision, the incense in front of the two picture frames still burns brightly, steadfastly. Oddly, it does nothing to quell the horrid stench of decay in the apartment. If anything, the altar seems to be exasperating the smell, which brings involuntary tears to your eyes and a pucker to your lips.

It's less so that the stench itself is what drives you to such a reaction; rather, the sensation invading your olfactory senses fills you with an abominable concoction of violent emotions: rage, pity, sorrow, envy, despair. You are drawn follow the source of these feelings, and your feet lead you to the bedroom, hands trembling underneath the sheer weight of all that you are experiencing as they push the slightly ajar door all the way open.

A gasp escapes you, unbidden. There, in that same, white futon adorned with layers and layers of her signature floral blankets, lies the corpse of Granny Orimoto. You can tell she’s dead because her skin has started to sag and bloat in strange and inhuman ways. This is the least surprising thing before your eyes.

Next to Granny sits a little girl – the spitting image of the girl in the portrait you’d glimpsed mere moments ago. Her gaze had once been trained steadfastly on Granny’s body, but now she looks up at you, unblinking, all-seeing.

“Hello,” says the girl, with a little girl’s voice.

“Hi,” you respond. “Do you live here?”

“Yes,” says the girl. “This is my granny.”

You remind me of my granddaughter.

She’s dead.

Granny Orimoto’s parting words to you echo in your head, rattling your brain, fizzling your consciousness.

“It’s nice to meet you, Rika. Granny Orimoto told me about you.”

Slowly, cautiously, as though you are approaching a spooked animal (ironic, given the fact that it is you who is shaking like a leaf), you crouch down and kneel on the floor, sitting on your haunches in a polite manner, mirroring the girl before you. Granny Orimoto’s body is the only thing separating you as you both sit, face to face, hands clasped in your laps, peering curiously at one another.

“I know,” says Rika. “Yuuta told you about me, too.”

Of course she would know about the conversations you and Yuuta have. This also might as well happen. At this point, after all you’ve just witnessed – first, the fresh corpse of your former employer, and now, the physical manifestation of a girl who died over ten years ago – there is very little left that could happen which would truly shock you out of your wits.

“Yes, he did. Have you been hanging out in the shop? Have you been lonely?”

The girl sticks out her bottom lip. “Yeah. You guys didn’t pay attention to me. Even when I was really loud, or turned the lights off, or broke the mirror. Sorry for breaking the mirror. I was mad.”

“It’s okay to be mad, but we mustn’t break things, or hurt others. I’m sorry for not noticing you sooner. Do you like plants and gardening? Like your granny?”

Rika nods. “Mhm, yeah. But Granny never lets me into the shop. Granny says all I do is mess things up. Granny says I’m no good. Granny says people died because of me. Did you know my dad is dead, too?”

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“It’s okay,” says Rika. “I wanted him to die.”

You blink. “Did you want Granny Orimoto to die, too?”

She takes a moment to contemplate before answering. “Granny had to die if I was going to play with Yuuta again.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, desperate to understand. When she begins to explain, you lean forward, forgetful of the fact that it is an old woman’s corpse which lies beneath you.

“Granny has already lived for so long. I wanted to come back. I died before my seventh birthday. Yuuta and I were supposed to spend it together. Yuuta never forgot about me. Yuuta talks to me every day. Yuuta went to Africa. Have you ever been to Africa? I went with Yuuta because he made a shrine for me there. Now Yuuta is back in Japan. Yuuta promised that we would play together again. Yuuta said he needed some time to prepare things. Yuuta is good at things like that – Yuuta can fight and do magic. Yuuta does jujutsu. Do you know jujutsu?”

“I know it,” you tell her.

“Yeah, Yuuta has powers. Yuuta knows a lot about dying and things like that. So, anyways, Yuuta said he would use his powers to help me come back so we can play together again. Yuuta said that me and granny have to switch places. I said ‘OK, Yuuta!’ and then Yuuta said he needed seven days. What day is it today?”

Somehow, you know the answer, even without looking at your phone’s calendar. “Monday.”

“Oh, so it’s been seven days. Yay! We can play together again. Do you want to play with us, too?”

“I would like to play together, yes.”

Abruptly, Rika unfurls from her graceful little seated position and makes her way over to you, crawling over Granny Orimoto’s corpse. You try not to think too hard about the graphic squelching that occurs underneath the childish palms of Rika’s tiny hands.

“Yay! Let’s go downstairs. Maybe Yuuta will be there.”

You don’t have the heart to tell her that Yuuta only swings by when the sun is out of sight. Her arms raise, clearly indicating that she’d like to be carried, and you are content to oblige her, as you scoop her up in your arms and make good on her direction. You exit Granny Orimoto’s apartment with Rika in your arms, her little feet dangling from your hip. The bright pink pair of slippers almost fall off as you make your way down the stairs, and you take care to remind her to make sure not to lose them.

When you get back to the shop, you must admit that you were mistaken in thinking Yuuta would not be there. As though he’d been anticipating this – which, you realize, he absolutely was, as this marks seven days from the first time he’d set foot in the shop – Yuuta stands by the front desk, wringing his hands before him nervously, sweat visible at his temples.

The both of you lock eyes, and he smiles, warm and fuzzy and entirely ill-fitting for the increasingly absurd scenario in which you find yourself. But you have little time to interrogate him about what the hell is going on – for Rika leaps from your arms and hits the ground running, screaming at the top of her little lungs, Yuuta!! Yuuta!!!, excited and so full of life, in only the way that children can scream in pure joy. Pure love.

He crouches and readily meets her, scooping the little girl up in his arms and sweeping her into the air, spinning round and round with Rika in his arms. Rika-chan!! Rika-chan!!! he cries – literally cries, that is, as you cannot help but spot the stray tear or two running down the swells of his flushed cheeks.

It is right as you are starting to feel a bit voyeuristic that Yuuta slows to a stop and finds your eyes once more. He comes to you, then, with Rika still perched on his hip, a chafingly tender smile splitting his face into two.

“I knew it was you,” he whispers with charged intensity, voice potent with unspoken feeling. “I knew you were special. I’ve always known. You never judge me. You always listen. You accepted me. And you accepted Rika, too.”

Have you? Accepted them, that is.

You shock yourself when you realize that you really have accepted all that’s transpired. Granny Orimoto saved your life when she’d taken you in and, for that, you must always be grateful. But from what Rika shared with you about how she’d been treated as a small child, and from what you’ve observed from Yuuta’s generally traumatized disposition and extreme reluctance to come face-to-face with the old woman, you realize, now, that there is a reason why Granny Orimoto had no living family to speak to or rely on when she was in her final days.

Whether or not her death had something to do with Yuuta’s apparent preternatural abilities (you remind yourself to ask about that later), it remains clear that she’d been in ill health long before you’d arrived at the flower shop. With no one to talk to. No one to care for her. You’d always felt pity. But, now, you realize that it may have been a situation of her own doing.

How could you argue with the living, breathing testament to that fact, who stand before you in fresh-faced, smiling glee?

“Of course I accept you both,” you say, earnestly, and mean it. “Rika is too cute not to love!” The young girl giggles, bashfully burying her face in Yuuta’s neck.

“And what about me?” Yuuta’s brows are quirked, his smile dipping into something a bit more cutting, a touch more heated than his simple joy from moments ago. “Am I cute enough to love, too?”

The answer is simple and requires no effort on your part: “I love you, Yuuta.”

You had more to say after that, but it proves a bit challenging to monologue your undying devotion to this man while said man is currently enveloping your mouth inside of his own. He kisses like a black hole: devouring, dark, impossibly comprehensive, and providing you without hope for possible escape.

He really is your type.

;

After those first seven days, Yuuta finally begins training at the shop. And Rika joins in, as well.

The three of you make an odd, adorable little family unit. After Yuuta had taken care of cleaning and renovating the apartment space upstairs, the three of you moved in without further delay. Your days are filled with home-cooking, raising Rika, maintaining the shop, and working alongside the man who has quickly made himself to be your life partner in every endeavor.

In fact, so much of your life is consumed with this newfound domesticity that there is little reason for you to leave the shop in the first place. Whenever you stray too far outside, you are prone to headaches, dizziness, fatigue, and even fever. It’s best to stay where is familiar, you reason. And Yuuta’s cooking is too good for you to want to eat anywhere else. He makes sure you eat three times a day, at least, and insists you finish your plate every time. Perhaps this is why you can’t stand life outside of this four, cozy walls – where else could you possibly find contentment such as this?

The business is re-named to “Rika’s Flower Shop,” which all three of you find quite agreeable given the current state of affairs. More customers than ever flow in, attracted by the colorful designs hand-painted by Rika herself on the building exterior. You generate enough revenue for additional renovations to be made on the shop. There is enough room in the budget to hire some part-time shop hands – local university students in the area looking to support themselves.

Everything is coming to fruition. For once, you truly feel as though life is blossoming.

And you can attribute all of it, every last bit of happiness, to them: Granny Orimoto, Rika, and Yuuta. The happiness is so overwhelming that you don’t ever want to leave their side, not even to run to the konbini, or to visit the post office. Why would you need to leave, when everything you’ve ever wanted is right here?

You have a family, a home, a life. You’ll remain in this shop with your loves until the day you grow as old and sickly as Granny Orimoto, and you’ll likely die upstairs, lying next to Yuuta, the both of you wrinkled and gray, curled together atop the futon, exactly where Granny had wheezed her last, bitter breath.

You wonder if Rika was there to watch it happen. You wonder if Rika will be there to see the both of you off, too.

You hope so. You really, really hope so.

You’re sure death will be every bit the dream you’re hoping it will be.

[yanderenightmare]

OKKOTSU YUTA masterlist

Ranging from my top Yuta post to posts with notes above 1k.

Okkotsu Yuta x mean girl curse:

♡ MEAN GIRL

Yandere Yuta x kidnapped reader:

♡ SAFE

Yandere Yuuta kidnaps his childhood bully:

♡ BULLY

Similar posts can be found in the following:

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[prettypei]

plot: them with a popular! chubby! fem! s/o; fluff!

reader: chubby! popular! fem! Reader

characters: yuuta, maki

warnings: mentions of fatshaming/homophobia, reader is sassy, mild spoilers for culling game arc (?, spoilers for jjk s2, use of Japanese honorifics, reader and maki are both lesbian in maki's part, a creep in maki's part

a/n: littleeeee bit of a self-insert... I jus wanted 2 write a lil sth LOL, yuuta is 2nd year btw

YUUTA

a little backstory on the reader!! ok soso reader is a 2nd year who's the closest with the first years and in this au you're really close to yuji...you currently maintain a long-distance relationship with yuuta! (let's pretend culling games didn't happen lol)

so let's rewind to the episode where the slice of life is happening (aka the "yuji bf material" ep ACK)

it was just supposed to be the first years but you were in the area too cuz you had just finished a mission, and yuji REALLLYYYY wanted to watch Earthworm Man 4... so you reluctantly agreed to go with them

(ps the first years kinda have a crush on you,, like idolizing ykwim)

so the four of you finished the movie when you recieved a call from your bf

so you talk blah blah blah and you're like "wait, isn't it like 3 am in Africa?" and he replies with a nervous chuckle and a "well,, guess where I am now?" and you literally scream into the phone... okie the fic is down below!!

"You're WHAT?" You screamed into the phone. "(name)-senpai, please shut up." Megumi deadpanned. "sorry, megumi. BABE, YOU'RE WHAT?" "Babe?" The three underclassmen shared a confused look. "Wait, you're here? Like in front of the movie theater? I don't see-WAITHOLYSHITISTHATYOU-" The three of them turned heads to see the direction you were waving in. "(name)!" Yuuta yelled excitedly. "O-okkotsu-senpai!" Megumi said with a surprised look on his face. "Who's he?" Nobara whispered to you, giving yuuta a weird look. "Show some respect." Megumi hisses while glaring at Nobara. "Ah, it's fine!" Yuuta smiles at all of them. "I'm just here to visit my wonderful girfriend!" "Girlfriend?" The three underclassmen feign a shocked expression as Yuuta squishes your cheeks together. "(n-name) has a boyfriend?!" Yuji squeaks. "Don't forget honorifics, it's disrespectful!" Megumi scolds once again, but he's the most surprised one of them all. "I thought you were single!" Nobara pouted. "Well, I'm not. Y'all ain't got a chance with me anyways." You smirked while giving Yuuta a peck on the cheek, leaving him flustered. "Awww... but I wanted to ask (name)-senpai out..." Yuji mumbles. "What?" Suddenly the atmosphere became cold and dark, and yuuta was glaring at a certain someone. "I-I mean-I thought-" Yuji stammered. "Yuu, babe, let's go. Let's go watch Barbie!" You insisted, pulling on his sleeve. "Okay, sure!" Yuuta's entire face lightens up as you pull him into the cinema. "O-Okkotsu senpai sure is scary..."

MAKI

reader is a 2nd year in this too :3

soooo maki is really like NOT open at all about your personal life, it's not that she's embarrassed of you it's just because she doesn't want others to stress her out about marriage, vows... she just wants to live the present

but that doesn't mean that she doesn't wanna share you with her closest friends though! And she's going to... but she keeps forgetting.

so basically you, maki and nobara are having a girl's day out and some creep tries hitting on ya...yk what's gonna happen.

"What do you guys want?" Maki asked you while you guys were lining up for the crepe shop. "I think... strawberry?" "Ohhh I want a blueberry one!" "Okay, I'll line up. You guys can go sit on a bench and rest." "You and Nobara walk to the bench under the tree, chatting excitedly while Maki told the cashier your order. All of a sudden, Nobara stopped talking and narrowed her eyes as a young man walked over. "He-Hello miss?" He asked timidly after tapping your shoulder. "Uh, yeah?" You give him a confused look. "Do I know you?" "N-No... I just wanted to ask for you nu-number...m-mommy...?" He squeaked, fiddling with his hands. At this point, you were beyond disgusted. "What the actual fuck?" You snap. "Get the-fuck-away from me!" "I-I like being degraded..." He whimpers as you push him away from you. "C-Can I get your number...? Promise I'll call you mommy..." "I don't-" "SHHHKKK." A long blade was dug in the bark of the tree behind the man, with only a millimeter to spare. "H-Huh?!" His voice's an octave higher. "Don't you ever touch my girlfriend ever again, scum." Maki growled as she came back with two crepes in her hands. "I-I-I won't! I swear I won't-I'll-I'll never-" "Shut up, little shit." Maki grumbled as she put her hand in yours, the man stumbling away and crying at the same time. "You okay?" Maki asked you with a concerned look. You giggled in response and held her hand tighter. "Love ya."

[chwocolatte]

♪ 𝓪 𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓮𝔂-𝓼𝓾𝓬𝓴𝓵𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓶𝓸𝓷𝔂 𝄞♭♪ . .

yūta okkotsu x reader ﾉ sfw — fluff ﾉ pianist mr. okkotsu eheh . . based off a sweet dream i had da night prior . . (⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄ o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝ ྀི) ﾉ ‘angel’ used as a pet name tew refer tew reader ﾉ mentions of reader feeling down ‘n upset ﾉ perhaps dis littl ficlet cld b a mini source of comfort for urself when stormy clouds try tew rain on ur day . . ಇ

quite a small piece for m’ first work here on da blr . . ‘m vrrie nervous tew share m’ writing but .ᐟ fingers crossed ‘s well perceived .ᐟ 🥺

adoring pairs of eyes follow the way his slender digits dance along the piano's ivory keys, the melody a lilting tune that fills the air with its sweetness. the song is a favourite of yours, one he crafted especially for you, a gift born of his love and affection.

every note is imbued with tenderness, each chord struck with the utmost care. floating effortlessly into your eardrums, the sonorous sounds wrap around your heart, their warmth a familiar comfort. they are the threads that stitch the fraying edges of your soul, the patchwork a mosaic of colour and vibrancy.

final tones ring out, and the last echoes dissolve into silence, the hush that descends upon the room a blanket of quietude.

your lover turns to you, his visage illuminated by the soft glow of the lamplight— an angel sent down from the heavens above, his celestial grace a testament to his otherworldly beauty.

"did that soothe you, angel..?"

the question is one he poses often, the answer a given. still, he asks it anyway, his tone tinged with a hopeful lilt, his eyes searching your face for the slightest hint of displeasure.

you smile, a gentle upturn of the lips, and reach for his hand, your digits tangling with his. a squeeze is his response, and the answering pressure is a reassurance, a sign that yes, the performance was a welcome respite from the noise in your head.

“always..”

[yuulettte]

𝐓𝐨 𝐃𝐫𝐲 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧 [𝐘𝐮𝐭𝐚 𝐎𝐤𝐤𝐨𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐗 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

"Don't cry little one, for the sun will come and dry your tears."

✰Tags: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Unrequited Love, Established Relationship, One-Shot

✰Summary: Yuta Okkotsu is afraid of two things; thunderstorms, and losing you.

✰W/C: 1.2k

✰C/W: Mentions of Trauma, nightmares, and thunderstorms

✰A/N: A quick one shot that I thought of during a thunderstorm.

The sound of pouring rain in a midnight storm filled the tiny cramped area of a dorm room. A huddled body shivered beneath a bundle of covers, the size being almost comedic considering the childlike action. He wasn't always afraid of the dark. It was just on nights like this, after a particularly scary mission, when the abyss seemed to pull him in.

Chest heaving and sweat forming on his brow, Yuta Okkotsu, a special grade sorcerer, slowly came to the acceptance that he was still afraid of thunderstorms. Small hiccups could be heard underneath the sheets, now becoming stained with the tears flowing heavily down his jaw and onto the bed below.

She'd often asked him, "Why do you always look so sleepy?". He'd give her a reply with an awkward half smile, saying "I just end up thinking so much, it keeps me up."

Which was partially true. He'd be thinking about her, her eyes. The way they sparkled when they'd grace his with a prolonged gaze, when she'd eat something she likes, or when she'd listen to her favorite song.

But soon her golden sunshine-like glance would turn into a downpour of bloody rain, the light fading into a series of traumatic memories that plagued him. He was sure they'd follow him to his grave, if he'd ever find the peace of one.

Then the worrying would start. The what if's of their job, of their life's purpose filling his mind like a poison that never fully worked its way out of his system. Those piling thoughts of 'what if' would mostly continue with the word 'she'. Even in his deepest, most terrifying memories, they only remained scary because they could repeat again. They could repeat with her.

And that's why in the sound of a rain storm, that reminded him so much of that day, did Yuta sob her name quietly into his pillow. Except it wasn't as quiet as he'd thought it was.

Suddenly the pitter patter of water on his window was replaced with quick footsteps. Oh so familiar footsteps.

Slamming the door open she came in like a whirlwind, even under his blankets he could imagine her expression. The same one she'd wear whenever he was injured in battle, or whenever he'd burn his tongue on his tea because he sipped without thinking. That adorable, worried, brow furrowed face would be the death of him.

"Okkotsu?!"

Her usually chipper voice was tinged with concern. His body freezing in place. How utterly humiliating.

"H-Here.." He mumbled out, lifting the bedding from over his head and sitting up. Yuta was correct of course, her brows were furrowed and her lips turned down. Her eyes widening as she noticed the tears still trickling down his cheeks.

"So you were crying" The sentence came out just above a whisper. That pretty gaze fixed totally on him, but its sparkle was replaced with worry. It sent a ripple of guilt through his body, akin to the lightning going off outside, the feeling making his stomach drop. God forgive him if he were to ever make her sad.

No use in denying it, but he couldn't help but wonder how she got up there from the second floor so fast. Or maybe he'd been crying longer than he realized. His mind was foggy with sleep deprivation and the need to flinch at the thunder claps sounding every few minutes. Still, Yuta tried to give her a sleepy smile to ease both the awkwardness and his own nerves.

"I had a nightmare, I'm sorry I woke you. I completely forgot your room is right under mine" He was lying through his teeth like it was second nature. Anything to make her stop looking at him like that.

Luckily for him, she was never the type to push in unless he allowed it. Always respecting boundaries and letting him come to her. Maybe that's why he fell in love with her to begin with.

Instead of asking him more questions, she merely sat beside him. Turning to face him in her usual criss-cross sitting fashion. That sparkle returned, her hands suddenly going to cup his cheeks. Well, maybe she wasn't good with all boundaries..

"Eh?" It was practically a squeak as her delicate hands pressed to his face.

"Don't cry little one, for I am here to stay. Don't cry little one, the rain will go away. The thunder will sleep and the lightning will disappear. Don't cry little one, for the sun will come and dry your tears."

Her voice was soothing, like a pure river flowing to cover his entire body. Except instead of cool water, she covered him in warmth. Hands moving away from his face and sliding down to wrap her arms around his back. The sorcerer felt himself relax all at once, tears building again in the corners of his eyes. Like a dam that was about to burst.

One that'd been built over 10 years ago and was finally cracking because of her. He tried to hold himself together, worrying the overflow would drown out her light. But as soon as her head laid on his shoulder, and she started to whisper that everything would be okay, Yuta found himself pouring it all out to her.

He pulled her into his chest tightly, his face pressed into her hair as he breathed her in. Long, heavy sobs escaping him as the waves of grief he'd been holding back washed down his features. His usually quiet, gentle voice turning raspy and strained.

It did shake her, how this often soft spoken, selfless man was breaking to bits in her arms. Not because she judged him, not because she was afraid. But because of how so lonely he must have been. How many nights did Yuta cry himself to sleep here, all alone? How many mornings did he awake more tired than he was before he'd gone to bed? Just how much had he suffered without her fully grasping it?

"It's okay.. I'm here, it'll be okay"

Is all that she could mutter to him between her own tiny sobs. Hands tight in his nightshirt as the two took the brunt of his pain together.

It was almost like for a small moment, he wasn't a Jujutsu sorcerer anymore. He was just him, in her arms, raw and bare before her. She'd stripped any sort of armor he'd covered his heart in, crossed any distance in a single stride. With a single touch of her hand.

It put him in awe as he slowly regained his composure, sniffling and bringing the back of his hand to wipe his eyes. All the weight in his chest from before seemed to diminish while he held onto her. He let out a long sigh before finally, be it reluctantly, letting her go and falling onto his back. His tired eyes looked up at her from below.

She gave him her award winning grin, her eyes meeting her cheeks before closing. He lifted his hand to swipe a tear off her cheek with his thumb, genuinely smiling back at her this time.

"I guess the sun did dry my tears."

He laughed as more drops fell from his dull blue eyes; of which for the first time in years had a glimmer of hope. Sunlight always comes after rainfall, after all.