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tetragonia · 15 days ago

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The Tortoise and the Hare

Jo Togame x Fem!Kaji!Reader

summary: You're Ren Kaji's twin, just moved back to Makochi last week. The streets didn't change, the vibe didn't change, and apparently your rival didn't either.

notes: Togame's second kanji ('Kame') means turtle, so there's that. just fluff and all nice so far. some mention of violence, suggestive animal cruelty (I guess...?)

words: 1.6k

The restaurant district hummed with life, neon lights flickering above the bustling crowd. Laughter, the clatter of dishes, and the sizzling of street food vendors filled the air, but you barely registered any of it.

You had only just moved back to Makochi—not exactly the grand return you had expected. This was the place where you had been born and raised, at least until junior high, before leaving for years. Now, everything felt both familiar and distant, like a song you hadn’t heard in forever but somehow still knew the lyrics to.

You had always been good at fighting—fast, precise, never one to back down. But that wasn’t why you had moved back to Makochi. No, you had come back because someone had to take care of your grandma. And it sure as hell wasn’t going to be Ren Kaji.

Oh, you knew. He had the whole cool, responsible act down to an art. With that sharp gaze and his ever-present anger issues, he looked like someone people should fear. But you had grown up with him. He was your twin. And you knew the truth.

Ren Kaji was a pain in the ass. In your ass, to be precise.

A loud, stubborn, reckless idiot who had somehow fooled the world into thinking he had it all together. But you? You weren’t buying it.

That night, you had decided to walk around, maybe grab something to eat, let the city settle in around you. You hadn’t even planned to buy Ren anything—it was your money, and the most generous offer you could make was to buy him one lollipop. That was it.

You hadn’t been looking for trouble yet, since you had only been back for a couple of days. But, of course, trouble had found you first.

You exhaled sharply, shaking out your sore arms. The five guys in front of you weren’t particularly skilled, but they were stubborn. And you? You were rusty.

Cracking your knuckles, you rolled your shoulders back, a smirk tugging at your lips.

Their leader sneered, taking a step forward, “You should just hand over your cash, sweetheart. No need to get hurt.”

“Sweetheart?” you scoffed. “That’s new. Usually, I get called ‘crazy.’”

The insult had barely left your lips before he lunged. You pivoted sharply, slipping past his swing and driving your elbow into his ribs. He grunted, doubling over just in time for your foot to sweep his legs out from under him. He crashed down hard.

In the shadows of a nearby alley, Jo Togame watched.

At first, he had been ready to step in. This was Shishitoren territory, and some lowlife idiots causing trouble wasn’t something he tolerated. But then he had seen you fight. Sharp movements, precise strikes. Even with your rust, you were dangerous.

So he had leaned back, crossing his arms, letting the rabbit handle its own battle.

Two more had dropped after a few well-placed blows. You were panting slightly now, every movement a second slower, your muscles protesting. Togame had noticed instantly. Fatigue.

Then he had seen it.

A fourth guy had crept up behind you, a broken bottle clutched in his fist, his movements quick and silent. You hadn’t noticed.

Togame had moved.

Before the thug could bring the jagged glass down, Togame had snatched his wrist, twisting it with practiced ease. A sharp yelp had echoed as the weapon had clattered to the pavement. Togame hadn’t hesitated. A swift kick to the ribs had sent the guy sprawling.

“Oblivious much?” Togame had drawled, looking down at you.

You had spun on your heel, ready to snap back, but he had seen it before you had said a word—the exhaustion in your posture, the faint tremble in your hands, the shallow cuts along your arms.

Running a hand through your messy hair, you had exhaled.

“Haven’t fought since I moved out. First time today,” your voice had been casual, but your breath had been unsteady. “Had to get my reflexes and muscle memory back.”

Togame had tilted his head, eyes lingering on you.

Then, he had smirked, "Not bad for being out of practice.”

You had shot him a tired glare, “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Dunno. You look like you’re about to pass out,” he had said. “C’mon, I’ll walk you to enemy lines.”

You had scoffed but hadn’t argued, “Suit yourself.”

As you had dusted yourself off and started to walk, Togame had watched you with that same infuriating smirk.

“You sure you’re not about to keel over?” he had asked, hands shoved in his pockets.

You had rolled your eyes, “I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh,” he had nodded, unconvinced. “That’s why you’re swaying on your feet.”

“I’m not swaying.”

“Right. So if I pushed you right now, you wouldn’t topple over?”

You had narrowed your eyes, “Try it and see what happens.”

Togame had raised his hands in mock surrender, “Relax, rabbit. Just saying, you look like you got run over.”

You exhaled at the nickname. You remember that day.

You had just been minding your own business, walking home through a shortcut behind some old buildings, when you had spotted it—a small rabbit caught in a tangle of wires and trash. It hadn’t even been struggling, just frozen, big eyes staring up at you.

You hadn’t thought twice. You had crouched down, carefully untangling the mess, muttering under your breath about how stupid it was for a rabbit to get stuck in the first place. The moment it had been free, it had bolted, kicking up dirt as it had disappeared into the bushes.

You had figured that had been the end of it.

But when you had stood up, brushing your hands off, you had heard slow clapping.

Togame. Leaning against a wall, arms crossed, looking way too entertained.

“Didn’t take you for the soft-hearted type,” he had mused. “Rescuing bunnies in alleyways now?”

You had rolled your eyes, “It was stuck. What was I supposed to do, leave it there?”

“Dunno. But now I definitely can’t unsee it,” his smirk had widened.

Just as you had finished untangling the little rabbit, footsteps had approached from behind.

“Oh! There you are,” an older man had sighed in relief. He had been dressed in a crisp apron, the faint scent of herbs and garlic clinging to him, “That rabbit belongs to me. Thought I lost him.”

You had blinked.

“Oh. Well, here," you had scooped up the rabbit and handed it over without a second thought.

The man had smiled warmly, “Thanks, kid. Would’ve been a shame to lose such a fresh one before dinner service.”

You had frozen.

“Dinner service?”

“Yeah. I run that European place down the street. We’ve got a rabbit stew special tonight.”

Your stomach had dropped as you had watched him secure the little creature in a crate. The rabbit had twitched its nose at you, completely oblivious to its fate.

Togame, who had been watching the whole thing unfold, had burst out laughing.

“Oh, that’s rich,” he had wheezed. “You just saved that thing for the butcher.”

Your eye had twitched, “I—I didn’t know!”

“You looked so proud of yourself, too,” he had teased. “Damn, rabbit, that’s cold.”

And just like that, the nickname had stuck. No matter how much you had tried to shake it, Togame wouldn’t let it go.

So now, as you trudged alongside him, bruised and exhausted, you had heard it again—

“Yo, rabbit, still with me?”

You had groaned, dragging a hand down your face, “For the last time, stop calling me that.”

“Not a chance. Come on, let’s get your beaten ass outta here,” Togame had just laughed.

“You look like you just crawled out of a sewer, but I didn’t comment on it," you scoffed, didn't want to back down from anything.

He snorted, “Harsh. You always this grumpy after a fight?”

“Only when I have to deal with you right after.”

“Guess that makes me lucky, huh?” his smirk deepened, and you resisted the urge to wipe it off his face with your fist.

Instead, you exhaled sharply and started walking.

“Whatever. Just don’t slow me down.”

“You’re the one limping," Togame easily matched your pace.

“I am not limping.”

“Sure, sure," he tilted his head, amused. “Keep telling yourself that, rabbit.”

You shot him a glare, but he just chuckled, following you all the way to Pothos Café. But the second you stepped inside, the conversation halted.

Hiragi, Sao, Umemiya, Sakura, Nirei, Sugishita, and Kotoha all turned toward you, their gazes scanning the fresh cuts and bruises littering your skin.

Kotoha reacted first, “What the hell happened to you?”

“Relax, it was just a warm-up," you waved a hand dismissively.

“A warm-up?” Hiragi raised an eyebrow. If anything, Hiragi was more of a brother than Ren. He was always a around when you grew up. In fact, you picked up how to fight—and getting damn good at it—because of him.

You could see his gaze flickered to Togame, “And you—what the hell did you do to her?”

Togame raised his hands in surrender, looking far too entertained, “Hey, don’t pin this on me. She was like this when I found her.”

“He didn’t find me. He just wouldn’t shut up and leave me alone," you scoffed.

“That’s called being a good friend," Togame winked. You cringed, physically and emotionally. You left him and sat on an empty chair, sighing.

“You’re bleeding," Sakura frowned, as he wasn't bleeding all the time.

You sighed, shaking your head and voicing what you thought, “You guys literally bled all the time. And it’s not fine when I do it?”

“Well, your brother would—”

“Don’t say a word to Ren,” you warned, pinching the bridge of your nose. The last thing you needed was your brother flying into another overprotective fit. He was too damn quick to anger when it came to you, and it was starting to get under your skin.

“Say what?”

The room tensed.

You froze for half a second before turning your head. There, standing in the doorway, was Ren Kaji.

His dark gray eyes locked onto your injuries, his usually blank expression darkening into something unreadable.

Hiragi muttered under his breath, already reaching for his pills, “Oh, this’ll be fun.”

You exhaled sharply, bracing yourself for the incoming storm.

“Well… shit.”

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