#tokrev x reader angst
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avengersassemble123 · 10 months ago
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Just Not this time..
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Pairing: Ran Haitani x reader
genre: Pure angst, like literal pure sadness and angst at the end, not a good ending ig?
warning: Cursing, sex talk in between but hardly few lines. ANGST, heartbreak, tragic.
P.S: Surprisingly the longest fic i have ever written, i mean im surprised myself you know, but hope yall enjoy it!!
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"Ran can you please listen to me just this once??"
You yelled as Ran continued fiddling with things in the kitchen, ignoring you.
You were yet in another argument with Ran regarding his activities surrounding tenjiku and some 'revival of the s-62 generation'. You were obviously aware about his status in Roppongi alongside his brother and his delinquent activities, but for the past few months, he and his brother were obsessing over some 'tenjiku' and 'izana', which you had a bad feeling about, as you tried to convince your boyfriend to back out of this just this once.
You had met Ran when you were both in high school. You were a pretty decent kid with great scores and was a part of the student council, while Ran and Rindou were obviously infamous for their 'activities', hardly attending any classes.
One day, you had arrived in the school as usual, greeting your friends, when you noticed the dual colored braided man, making you realise that he did in fact exist and was your classmate. Not your fault that he hardly appeared in front of you, making you almost forget he was in fact a person. He was sat on a chair, his legs over the table, crossed, as a person in glasses, who you assumed was his brother had pulled a nearby chair and sat next to him chatting.
"Damn I forgot they even existed.." You murmured towards your friends, as they giggled, gossiping about those two, while you joined in on their bitching. Soon as the teacher arrived, you all went to your assigned seats, as you saw the glasses guy leave the room, while the braided guy lazily stood up and greeted, a blank disinterested stare present in his face. As you were preparing for a lesson, your teacher called out, "(Name), since Haitani san has attended his class after a long period of time, could you maybe share your notes to him?"
You looked up at your teacher in confusion, as your gaze flickered towards the braided boy for a second as you saw him roll his eyes, before his gaze landed on you. You awkwardly pursed your lips, as you then looked at your teacher, "Sure Sensei, i don't mind."
The day went normal as usual, before the bell rung, indicating it was time for recess, as students scrambled outside the door, you closed your book, greeting your teacher back, before remembering you had to give your notes to your classmate. As you turned around, you saw Ran removing a messily packed up lunch in a packet, his eyes droopy, as if he had just woken up from a slumber, as you walked towards him. "Here" You say, as you held out the notes in front of him. He first glanced at the notes and then at you in a displeased blank expression, before his gaze returning towards the notes and then to his food, as he lazily munched.
"No thanks. I'm good." Ran said, ignoring you, as he flopped his legs on the table as his hand held his lunch, "I ain't interested."
"You sure? Cuz Sensei asked me-" "Listen, i don't give a damn about this nor about you, so why don't you go back and leave me alone?"
Your eye twitched, as irritaion started building up inside me, as you stared at him bemused. What a jackass. "Jeez.. So much for trying to help out..." you say as you roll your eyes, turning around, as you walked towards your bench, slamming your bag upon the bench before putting your notes in, as your best friend tried to calm me down.
"The fuck does he think he is? Prime Minister of Japan?" you angrily murmured, as your friends tried to calm you down.
What you didn't realise was that your classmate had heard it, as he raised his eyebrows amused, before casually walking towards you, "Awww did i make Ms.Nerdy Pants upset?" He taunted, a mocking smile on his face, while you clenched your fist, your eyebrows raised at his audacity, "How about Mr. Hoshposh mind his own buisness since he doesnt need anybody's help and thinks he's better than everyone." you retorted, making the former chuckle.
"I don't think you know me that well miss."
"Not my fault you hardly attend classes, making me forget you actually existed."
By now, the whole class was watching, whispers and murmurs exchanged , as your friend held you back by holding your arm.
"Oh yeah? How about you ask your friends who exactly I am. Maybe you'll figure out and something will go inside that small brain of yours." Ran said, leaning towards you, slightly bending as you were way shorter than he was, your head reaching his shoulders, him towering over you.
You did know who he was. Who in their right minds would not know the delinquent kings of Roppongi. But you were raised to not take shit from anyone unnecessarily, no matter who it was. Honestly, you were kind of intimidated, due to his stature and reputation, but you did muster up courage, as you took a deep breath, calming yourself down as to not act irrationally, before speaking up.
"I do know who you are, but that doesn't mean you can talk to me like that. You need to keep your attitude in check." Everyone murmured, as some of your friends gasped, while your best friend tugged at you to stop. Ran raised his brow, as he looked at you head to toe, before his one hand rested on his hip, his smile not leaving his face, "I need to keep my attitude in check? How about you mind that attitude of yours in front of me? or do you want me to help you with that?"
"Just cuz you're some delinquent, doesn't mean you'll scare me as well. I give whatever I recieve. You talk to me nicely and i return the favor. Simple as that. Or do you want me to write this in written and give it to you in notes as well?"
At this point, your best friend was just pulling you to the other side of the earth, while you realised that you might've fucked up a bit by the sass at the end and that now the goddamn Haitanis are gonna be out for your blood. But you still stood your ground. Might as well finish it if it has been started.
Ran now looked at you, his smile not present, as he tilted his head, silently staring at you, before straightening up, as he started twirling one of his braids with one hand, while the other rested on his hip, before giving you a closed eye smile, "Guess I do have to change that attitude of yours."
Yep, you're in deep shit.
Just then, the glasses guy from earlier came in the class, before looking at the braided guy and walking towards him, his eyebrow raised in slight confusion, his face in a blank stare, as he walked towards the braided guy, "What's going on here Aniki? Who's this chick?" He asked as he looked between you both questioningly.
"Nothing Rindou." Ran said, his close eyed smile returning, as he turned around and started walking, Rindou following him casually, "Just someone who needs to know their place."
The fuck?
You were goddamn pissed but you knew if you went any further, you might as well get murdered now, since you already signed your death warrant by messing with him.
As the school got over, you were walking back home. It was an everyday routine as usual, nothing out of the ordinary, before you felt the hair on your arm stand up, goosebumps wrecking your body, as you felt like you were being followed. You slightly turned your head back to glance slightly, spotting a suspicious man walking behind you at quite a distance. You then started walking faster, trying to dial up your friend's number in your Nokia phone, but apparently luck did not like favoring you. You purposely took turns, which confirmed your suspicions as the man took the same turns as well, making you walk faster, as you mentally prepared to defend yourself, trying to figure out ways to fight back since you didn't have anything on you except for your schoolbag.
After a while you realised that there was no one around you, making you panic as you turned around only to find the man closing up on you, suddenly starting to run, making you run as well, as you cursed.
You ran, trying to outrun him, but he unfortunately was faster, as he caught up with you before pulling you by your hand and covering your mouth. He seemed to be around 20s, wearing a discrete hoodie, as he tried making you still, while you violently tried breaking free from him. You kicked him hard in the nuts, making his grip falter from you, as you broke free and punched his face before making a run for it. As you ran, you realised he was chasing you.
You were running among the streets before hearing some noises, enlightening some glimmer of hope within you, as you desperately tried running towards the source. Soon you spotted an old small rundown shop alongside a few figures standing beside it, making you run towards them for help. As you inched closer, the more your heart fell out of your ass, as you realised that it was none other than the Haitani brothers standing there and hanging out, as Ran was sitting sideways on his bike, facing Rindou who was sat straight on another bike, but his whole body leaning against it.
You were stuck in both the cases, but you'd rather face them than being stuck with that creep, as you ran towards them.
Ran noticed some hurried footsteps approaching them, as he looked towards the source, his impassive expression covered in confusion as he realised it was you, the chick earlier from the day, trying to test him. Rindou looked towards where Ran was looking, mirroring Ran's expression.
As you neared towards them, you slid an arm under Ran's, as you smiled widely as fake as possible, "OH MY GOD BABE HELP ME!"
Both the brothers raised their eyebrows questioningly. Ran for a second thought if you were one of those girls who crave for his attention, when he noticed you gesturing him with your eyes with the most widest, most fake grin he had seen in a while, towards a man standing just few inches from them, still in fear.
"Babe, this man has been chasing me. He just wouldn't stop following me." You said, holding his arm tightly, gesturing him to please, for the love of god, go along with your facade, Ran figured out in few seconds what was going on as soon as he laid his eyes on the man, but he looked at you amusingly, as you widened your eyes, pleading him to just go along with it, making him smirk at you.
On seeing his smirk, you had thought that now you're just fucked and that he's gonna hand you over to that creep in a silver platter, before being surprised, as you saw Ran's smirk drop into a cold frown as his gaze turned from you towards the man.
The man who was quivering in fear, had now fallen to his knees as begged for mercy, while you stood there shocked at the behaviour.
"The fuck am i hearing? You chasing my girlfriend?" Ran said coldly, making shivers pass down your spine as well, as you realised why he was the king of Roppongi, and one of the notorious delinquents in Tokyo.
"IM SORRY BOSS I DIDNT KNOW SHE WAS YOUR GIRLFRIEND!!" The man yelled, whimpering, as your mouth went agape at his pathetic state.
"Can you believe this man's audacity to go after my girlfriend of all the things? Mine?"
"He's got some nerve Aniki. He should be taught a lesson." Rindou joined in, as he straightened up, still sitting on his bike as he now turned and watched the scene in amusement.
"Hey Baby." Ran said, facing towards you, catching you off guard, as you looked at him confused, "Ye-yea?" You felt his arms snake around you, making you give him a strained smile. This asshole. But you went along with it.
"How do you wanna punish him? Do you want me to make it quick or slow and torturous? Your wish is my command."
Your eyes widened at his question as you glanced between the men, but again creeps like this should be beaten to hell. "Anyhow you wanna make it babe, just make sure to give him hell."
Ran smirked, before removing his hold from you and walking towards him, removing something from his pocket, before extending it. You looked confused before realising it was a whole ass baton.
Ran started beating the shit out of the creep, as you stood by the side, watching in horror, while Rindou chuckled, amused at the scene. You did feel immense satisfaction at watching the creep getting beaten up, but even you had limits, as you at times shielded your eyes. After a whole session of getting beaten up, Ran asked the creep to fuck off, making him scramble away in terror.
Ran casually walked towards you, as he wiped the blood off his baton with a part of his shirt, while you stood mouth agape, before realising you were alone with them, making you stand further from them.
"Uhh thanks for the help. Appreciate it a lot honestly but i gotta go now."
"Aww doll, are you gonna run away from me, your boyfriend?"
I gritted my teeth, as i gave him a taunting smile, to which he returned the same, "That's enough. I appreciate your help very much, but can we not discuss this further."
"Aww but babe we just met after a long day, and you're one feisty one you know, seeing that you hit the man straight in the part where the sun doesn't shine."
My eyes widened as Ran smirked, "What? Didn't think I'd notice that man limping when you came right in my arms?"
"But again I do have a thing for feisty ones you know?" Ran said, making you have a look of disgust, before walking away blankly.
The next day, when you came to school, you were surprised to see Ran in your class, as he noticed you walking in, making him give you a closed eye smile, as he waved at you, "Awww here you are (NAME), nice to see you today."
You looked at him confused and irritated, as your friends gave you questioning glances.
Soon, almost everyday, you were pestered by the older Haitani in the school, whether its in the recess, or asking for some notes, or poking you with his pencil or throwing balls of paper at you in the middle of the class, making you lecture him outside after school. It soon led to him starting to pester you while walking home as well, as you tried to tell him to buzz of or to leave you alone, but failing miserably.
After school, you were sitting in your classroom, doing your work, when you noticed someone open the door of the classroom and walk next to you, making you glance at the individual, before rolling your eyes. You just weren't in the mood.You kept silent as you continued doing your work, as Ran casually slid a chair next to you and flopped his legs on a bench, gazing at you with a bored look.
"You're not your usual self today." Ran stated, making you scoff, "And how is that supposed to bother you?" You retorted.
"Its not fun as it usually is, since the fodder is not acting as its supposed to."
"Listen I'm literally not in the mood for our pestering, so take this somewhere else, and leave me alone."
There were some moments of silence, as you started thinking that had you managed to officially piss him off, before you heard him speak, "You're being too harsh on yourself. You're overworking. You're feeling as if you're not doing enough."
Your eyes widened, before slamming your hands against the desk, "Oh now you wanna sit here and judge me?" you asked furiously, as Ran's bored expression didn't falter, "Of course I'm judging you. You're acting stupid."
You felt rage building inside you hearing his words.
"Oh yea? Then why don't you tell me what's not stupid."
"By taking care of yourself."
You were taken aback as you heard his words, while he gazed upon you with a neutral expression.
"You feel you're not good enough, you want to prove to others that you're good enough, you're working yourself, but in reality you're just destroying yourself. Tell me, is this what you like to do? Is this what you really want to do in life?"
You stayed silent for a few seconds, both of you basking in silence for few minutes. You stared at your notes blankly before you saw some wet droplets on the book. You were crying. Your tears fell through your eyes, as you silently cried, your shoulders slightly shaking, as Ran gazed at you. You realised he did say the truth. You were scared that your vulnerable side was being exposed to him of all people. But you were glad that he understood you and gave you the space you required in the form of silence. That evening, you two walked home, as you awkwardly fidgeted beside him.
"Sorry.." I muttered, making his attention being caught.
"Dont worry about it."
Since that day, you started accepting him, your trust enfolding in him, as you both started hanging out together more often. You started sharing your snacks to him giving you rides back home on his motorcycle. More and more, you two got closer, as you slowly started seeing each other's real sides. Soon you started hanging out with him after school, alongside realising what actually his reputation is. Despite being a delinquent, your respect for him grew as you got to know the more vulnerable side of him, his time raising up Rindou all on his own, when the kids of his age were supposed to play in parks. You were also officially introduced to Rindou as well, surprisingly getting along, making a part of Ran pleased that you were on good terms with his brother.
After months, with no surprise, you two caught feelings for each other, as Ran was the first one to take the step, leading to you following him. The news of you two dating, had spread like wildfire much to your dismay, as it was like a roller coaster of chaos and frenzy, much to Ran's amusement. You would scold him for PDA, while Ran would pester you, sometimes making Rindou mimic gagging voices, leading to you to diffuse the fight between the brothers.
Even though Ran was among the most infamous delinquents, you did have him in your hold. One moment he would be the intimidating Roppongi king, while the next moment he would look like a kicked puppy when you scold him for eating too much sweets.
Soon enough, you were the first one to blurt out the first 'i love you' which made you cover your mouth, as you were patching up Ran's wounds, while he looked at you wide eyed like a deer in headlights, before you felt him wrap his arms around you and whisper the same three words repeatedly in your ear.
You were so happy. In fact the happiest.
Then what went wrong....
"Ran I've never meddled in those delinquent activities of yours. Heck even when you were in jail, i would still visit you and Rindou. But please can you just listen to me?? just this once?? Please don't get involved with this 'tenjiku'"
"(NAME) these are my friends, and we have got this covered. I don't get what you are so frustrated about. You're starting to irritate me."
"I'M IRRITATING YOU??? CAN YOU PLEASE LISTEN TO ME FOR ONE GODDAMN TIME??"
"Baby listen to me, You're just overreacting."
"How am i overreacting Ran?? You're planning to fight one of the biggest gangs in Tokyo"
"And we are the S-62 generation. We are much better and experienced than them. I know how to deal with those Toman people."
"Its not about you dealing or having the strength to fight them Ran. I can't see you in jail or something like before. I can't handle it-"
"THEN YOU SHOULD'VE THOUGHT ABOUT THAT BEFORE BEING WITH ME THEN." Ran exclaimed, his tone getting louder.
You stood there mouth agape, as your boyfriend had turned around, an irritated look on his face.
You stuttered, "HO-HOW CAN YOU EVEN SAY THAT??" DON'T YOU SEE THAT I'M JUST TRYING TO LOOK OUT FOR YOU?? ARE YOU THIS STUPID TO UNDERSTAND AND LET YOUR EGO IN THE WAY??"
"AND HOW MANY TIMES AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY THAT I CAN HANDLE IT?? OR IS TOO MUCH FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND? STOP MEDDLING IN MY BUSINESS."
"RAN I CAN'T WATCH YOU GET INTO SHIT AGAIN. I CAN'T. I'M BEGGING YOU TO BACK OUT OF THIS JUST THIS ONCE. I JUST DON'T THINK ITS GONNA END WELL"
"(NAME) ITS ALREADY DECIDED. I WONT DO IT. DON'T YOU GET IT?? THIS IS MY GOAL. TO RESTORE THE ERA OF S-62. TO BRING BACK THE OLD GLORY. TO BECOME THE LARGEST CRIMINAL GROUP JAPAN HAS EVER SEEN! I CANNOT AND WILL NOT BETRAY MY FRIENDS!!"
You stood there as tears had welled up in your eyes, as Ran had yelled at you as red was filled in his eyes.
You stood silent for a few moments before meekly speaking up, "So does that mean you'd betray me?..."
Ran looked down, his jaw clenched, before turning, raising his head up, the cold impassive expression painted on his face which he always puts on in front of his gang members, "If it means reaching the goal I've always yearned of....then yes..."
You both stood in silence staring at each other, before you scoffed, breaking your gaze and looking towards the ground, "I can't." You murmured, "I can't. I just can't. I can't let myself be hurt anymore. I can't make myself suffer through this anymore. I'm tired of being hurt. I just can't do it anymore."
"Then maybe you should leave."
You noticed your tears falling on the carpet of the apartment, as you were scared to look at the man in front of you, but your gaze flickered nonetheless, only to find his hands on the table, but the serious cold expression on his face.
You looked up the ceiling, trying to control your tears before storming inside your shared bedroom and packing your things, sniffles escaping you, as you felt the coldness of the room hit you. You felt your heart shattering into pieces, but you couldn't let yourself go through the hurt again. You really did try to keep up with him. You really did. But you just can't. You were too tired. You were tired of being helpless and hurt. He couldn't understand your point. He couldn't understand you like before. He was too obsessed with it. Its too much. He was moving much further into the dark side. You did try holding out your hand towards him, but he kept swatting it away. You cannot let yourself fall in the darkness, this black pit as well.
You finished packing your bag, as you headed out, as you saw your 'ex' boyfriend stand with his back turned to you, his hands crossed, leaning against the kitchen table. He made no attempt to stop you.
That hurt.
As you reached to the door knob, you halted, not turning back, as you closed your eyes, "I really hope you know i was just trying to help. Please Ran...please..."
You stood in a quiet silence before you heard him speak,
"Goodbye (NAME)."
You took a painful deep breath, as slight whimpers left you, "Then do me one last favor before its a goodbye."
Ran stayed quiet,as you continued,
"Don't you ever come in front of me again...I cannot see what you will become after this...It'll just hurt me more. I can't see you like that.. I love you too much for that."
You didn't wait for his response before you left the apartment, slamming the door on the way out. As you walked down the stairs and onto the streets, you could feel the cold winds blow against your face, before you felt your soul shatter as you broke down in the middle of the street, thankfully no one there to see you in such state, as you sobbed. You sobbed till there were no tears as you felt yourself break at every tear that spilt on the ground. After a while, there were no tears to spill, as you felt yourself going numb, before standing up, your tear stained face mirroring a blank expression, as you aimlessly walked down the street before reaching to your own apartment.
As you slammed the door on the way out, Ran internally winced at the impact. He stood still before taking a painful deep breath as he ran his hands through his face, before feeling wet pool up in his eyes, as he painfully exhaled, a feeling he had last experienced when he was a young kid, and experiencing it after a long time at 19. It had been years since he felt such despair or pain, as he felt his heart heavy, hurting deeply, but he still maintained his composure, burying his face against his hands, leaning against the table. He realised he had lost you. He realised it as soon as you both started arguing. He was clever and mature in that way. He stayed like this for some time, trying to gain his composure, before straightening himself up and continuing his work. He had a goal to fulfill. He had chosen this path, of regaining Tenjiku's glory back, of conquering Japan along with his friends, and to make Tenjiku the biggest criminal syndicate Japan has ever seen. He had his life purpose to fulfill. He wasn't going to let anyone get in his way.
Years passed.
Ran was leaning against his car, as his left hand smoked a cigarette, wrapped around the neck of some chick who was entertaining him for the night, while his right hand held his phone to his right ear, listening to his brother talking about the next debriefing and base plans. He hummed in acknowledgement as he played with the girl's hair in the meantime who was giggling like a schoolgirl next to him.
He had changed in almost every way. He became more fashionable. He started wearing suits more often, rings adorning his fingers. He had changed his long hair from blonde and black to short purple and black fodder haircut, his short strands of hair falling on his face, while a black and white tattoo adorned on his neck, near his adam's apple.
It had been years since Tenjiku had lost against Toman, losing Izana and later on Mucho in the process. But then the Kanto Manji gang was formed, its leader being Manjiro Sano, the former leader of Toman, while him and his brother, along with some of his friends and acquaintances being the executives. Soon led the formation of Bonten, the largest and most dangerous criminal syndicate in the whole of Japan, which he was now an honorary top executive of. Since he was part of yakuza, obviously he gained more build and stature, along with rich money, skills and access to weapons and being part of dealings. He was known for his charisma, ensuring to seal in the deals with no hitch. He would often have one night stands with many girls, and owned numerous clubs in Japan, Roppongi being his main center.
As him and this chick walked down the streets, heading towards some hotel room for the night, before he realised he had forgot protection back at his mansion, making him internally curse, as he asked the chick if she was on birth control, to which she replied with a negative, making him curse out more internally before heading to a nearby store. As he had gotten hold of some of some condoms, and went to pay the cashier, he saw someone stand beside them, checking out at the same time. His gaze traveled only to fall on the person next to him, making him stand still in surprise.
After the breakup, you were in pieces for a while before you managed to gain yourself up and move forward. You continued your studies and worked your ass off for your dream job for years before finally succeeding, leading you to become successful in life, as you were happy with your dream job. Through your job, you even managed to find a man who took care of you, as you both found happiness in each other, before he got on his knees and proposed to you, making you his happy fiancee. You were truly happy in your life. You could get whatever you wanted. You had really thought you had forgotten about him. But turns out you were wrong.
As you had your credit card held out for checking out, you noticed another person coincidentally checking out at the same time, him holding out his card as well. As your gaze flickered to him, your calm smile turned into a shocked expression, as your blood ran cold, looking at him.
"Oh.."
"...Hey (NAME)..."
The girl in his arms looked at both of you confused, "Baby do you know her?"
You awkwardly smiled at them as you noticed how the girl was held by him in his arms.
"Yea..just..we used to know each other before.." Ran said, his gazxe not leaving you, while yours shifted from your groceries to him and the girl, "Hey Ran...Its been a while..You've changed.. a whole lot.." You chuckled, making him nod his head slightly as well, few chuckles leaving from his mouth as well. "Well its nice see you as well...after a...long time.." You both stared at each other for a few seconds before you shook your head, getting yourself out of the trance, "Oh lemme just check out."
You both acknowledged each other awkwardly as you pursed your lips, as Ran let you check out first, to which you thanked him meekly, before heading out. Ran quickly checked out before leaving the girl and chasing after you, "(NAME) WAIT."
You stopped midway as you turned around to find him catching upto you, "Hey uhh, since its been a while, maybe we could hang out for some time."
Your mouth formed out an 'o' as you looked at the groceries, "Oh uhh actually i gotta get going home..and i dont wanna intrude between you and your girlfriend."
"Oh she's not my girlfriend.."
"Oh.."
You pursed your lips as mixed feelings coursed through you, "I dont know Ran.."
"Just once..thats all. A plain hangout."
You pursed your lips, before taking a deep breath, "...fine...just once, a plain hangout."
"Good." Ran said, as he shared the details of the cafe and the meeting time around evening.
You bid goodbye, as you continued to walk, while Ran stood still, watching you walk away, old memories flashing in both of yours minds.
That night, as the meeting for a drug dealing got over, Ran stood at a balcony in the Bonten headquarters, smoking a cigarette, overlooking the view of Tokyo, as he leaned against a railing, thinking about your encounter. He heard a pair of footsteps walk towards him, before standing beside.
"I know that face...I haven't seen that in a while. Whats wrong? Is it something with the meeting?"
Rindou leaned against the railing, his back towards it, as he took a cig from Ran's stash which was held out towards him by the former, before removing a lighter from his pocket and lighting up, taking a whiff off it, before puffing out the smoke.
"Nah, the deal's fine. Nothing wrong with it." Ran shrugged.
"Just spit it out already. Seeing you nervous of all the people here, makes me nervous as well."
Ran took a big whiff from his half burnt cigarette, puffing out the smoke, "I saw her."
Rindou raised his brow in questioning, "Saw who? Some chick you slept with last week?"
"Of course not, why'd i give a shit about her?" Ran grunted, "It was (NAME)"
Rindou eyes slightly widened, as he looked back towards the meeting hall, while Ran kept looking at the skyline, "See her as in?.."
"Met her in a mart while I was buying condoms with the chick i was planning to stick with today, Saw her at the checkout, had a awkward convo, then invited her for a meetup tomorrow."
"Damn." Rindou whistled, "I'm surprised she agreed to it given what happened." Rindou retorted, making Ran roll his eyes, "What even are you planning to talk with her tomorrow? How you sometimes asks for tabs on her just to check up how she is behind her back, or that you haven't moved on from her after all these years and sleep with multiple women just because you imagine them as her in your bed?"
Ran looked at Rindou incredulously, making Rindou roll his eyes, "I heard you once sleeping with a random chick, just to call her (NAME) while you were in the middle of it." Rindou had a disgusted expression, making Ran snort, not denying or hiding the fact, "I don't remember you being around."
"Of course you didn't. You forgot to read my text saying i was coming over for some work. Honestly i don't wanna replay that in my head again."
The men stood in silence, puffing out whiffs of white smoke from their mouth, before Ran broke the silence, "I do miss her Rindou. I really do. She was the only one asides from you who gave two shits about me."
Rindou took a deep breath, "Did you know she was the only lady till date that i tolerated, let alone respected among whom you have dated or slept with."
"Yeah I know."
"You had to make a decision Aniki, and you did. It couldn't be helped. Someone like her doesn't belong here."
"Why do you think I kept away from her?" Ran retorted, before taking a deep breath, "If you were in my position what would you have done?"
Rindou raised his eyebrows at his older brother, as he snorted, "Wow its just weird just hearing you sound so sentimental and asking stuff like this, when its always the other way around? You sure didn't snort something on the way here?"
Ran rolled his eyes, before Rindou spoke up, "If i loved someone, I would personally never let them in my life. Our worlds are different, we live in a far dangerous one. She's not meant for this. Although it would hurt from afar, as she has moved on with someone, but I would be glad she's living in a life which makes her genuinely happy, where she would smile often. Although she is far, I would always love her from the bottom of my heart."
The brothers now facing the city skyline, stood in silence, as cold wind touched their faces, engulfing the silence between them, white faint smokes released from their air."
The next day as you arrived at the venue, you parked your car just at a distance, as you leaned against your seat, taking a deep breath. Its been many years since the last you saw him, 12 years maybe? You thought you were over him, but your old memories flooded back, the good as well as the bad. You had grown matured and smarter. But you also remembered the pain you felt as your heart had been broken by him. Call it teen romance, but you both knew what you two had for each other was far more than that.
You shook your head, before unbuckling your seat belt before heading towards the designated cafe. As you walked in, your eyes roamed around the place before it landed on a the purple haired man, as he waved at you to come over.
As you both sat down, you ordered your food before turning to each other, "Woww its been a while huh?.." Ran started, as you nodded in agreement, "Yea it has.."
"How have you been doing?"
"I'm doing well...How about you?"
Soon the conversation started as you two caught up with each other, sharing some laughs with each other. You two had realised how much you had changed since the last time you saw each other.
Ran eyed your wedding band on your left hand, "So..I see you have a partner."
You looked down to your left hand, "Oh yea, Got engaged just a few months prior and are now settling for the wedding dresses, venues stuff, you know.." You said, as Ran nodded, pursing his lips, pain filling in his heart, as he forced a smile on his face, "I'm glad to hear. You must be very happy now.."
"I am.." You said, as you stared at him, nodding your head slightly. You both observed how mature your faces had become, before you spoke up, "So what are you doing now anyways?"
"Oh you know, business deals, stuff.." Ran shrugged, as you eyed at him. You had of course noticed the tattoo on his neck, which belonged to one of the biggest, worst criminal organizations, Bonten.
"I see."
Ran did notice your gaze flickering to his tattoo, as he knew you had figured out what he was talking about. He always liked that smartness of yours.
You both stayed in silence for a few minutes,
"I'm sorry."
You looked at him surprised and confused, "Hm?"
"I'm sorry for what happened."
You chuckled bitterly as you looked out the window, "Its fine..it doesn't matter anymore. It was all in the past. You made your decision and i made mine."
You did feel your throat burn a those words, but you knew it was the truth.
Ran looked at you, wincing internally at your tone change. You two split the check before heading out together, as you walked out of the restaurant. It was around 8, and Ran was walking you towards your car, when he stopped, "(NAME).."
You turned towards him, as you saw him with an expression you hadn't seen on him before, at least not for a long time, as your heart started pounding due to the nervousness, "I know we have our two different separate paths-"
Oh god you knew this was going to happen. You took a deep breath, as you closed your eyes, denying his words.
"But i really did miss you."
"No Ran,-" You tried stopping him,
"I know I know (NAME) just listen to me."
"No Ran you can't pull shit like this, I knew this was going to happen-"
"(NAME) Please just listen to me-"
"What is there to listen Ran?" You raised your voice slightly, trying to see if anyone was around, not that you cared, although to your luck there was no one.
'You can't just spring this upon me. Not after so many years after that bullshit."
"(NAME) please just listen to me. I'm not asking you to take me back." Ran said, as he held onto your shoulders, trying to explain. "We both know that you wont take me back, and honestly I can't even let you. I care too much about you. I love you too much for that."
You shook your head, as tears were filling your eyes, as rage started filling your body as you tried to break free from his grasp, but he held tighter.
"But I just want one thing. Just one thing. Let me tell you the truth. That's it. Nothing else."
You stood, as you closed your eyes, not able to look at him, as he continued, "I don't regret anything that i did in my life. It was what i believed was right. But the only regret which i have...you.."
His grasp grip softened, as you broke free from his grasp and stood at a distance from him, "My only regret is meeting you, because if I had not met you, then I wouldn't have made both of us suffer. You wouldn't even have to worry about me, I wouldn't have had to care for you,....and I wouldn't have let you go through the pain that i put you..."
You looked up to the sky as you held back your tears. "I will always remembered the day we first met in class, you back answering me, leading to us to argue in the middle of the class." Ran clenched his fist as the memories flashed in his mind. "Me pestering you, while you swatting me away as if I was a damn parasite and a menace." Ran chuckled bitterly as you still didnt meet his gaze, this time your lips slightly quivering.
"I remember us hanging out around that old yakisoba place, you scolding me for eating too many sweets or oversleeping, me playing with your hair while teasing you with PDA,...our first 'I love you's.."
You turned your face away from him.
"I loved the way you would hold onto me as we rode on my bike, purposely speeding it just so you could grab onto me tighter, your voice just saying my name, your smile and laughter which immediately brightened me up. I loved how you not only accepted me, but my brother as well. You accepted me, you loved me just for who I am."
You covered your face, as you tried to hold in your feelings, "Ran no, don't do this, stop..."
Ran held a sad smile as he looked towards the ground, "I did try keeping my end of the promise you know."
You didn't make any action, but you were silent, making him continue, "I really did try keeping myself away from you. But I couldn't help it."
You slightly tilted your head towards his, not fully facing him.
"I was so proud of you when you graduated from your university."
You head snapped towards his direction, as he looked up at you, a sad but a pained expression on his face.
Rain started to pour, as the droplets could be felt on your heads.
"Wh-what?" You asked, confused.
"Even though you could not see me, I couldn't miss seeing you, even if I had to take the last row seat, just to see you."
You felt your heart shatter, as you were realising the more. He was there.
"When Rindou told me about your fiancee, not going to lie, it hurt like a bitch. But seeing you smile was the only thing that I wanted from you."
You covered your mouth, your legs feeling weak.
"God you looked so beautiful when you were trying on the wedding dresses. You looked like the queen of my dreams. Made me wish it was me beside your side."
You fell on the floor on your knees, as heavy sobs wrecked you, as tears streamed down your eyes and onto the floor, mixing the rain that was splattering onto the floor, and was streaming down your faces and bodies. He was there the whole time...He was there...just to see you...Away from you...But you didn't know...
You could feel your whole world collapse as you sobbed and cried, ironically remembering the time when Ran saw you crying for the first time, but this time he was the reason for it. You wanted to deny, wanted to call him a liar, a pathetic asshole who had the audacity to sump something like this on you, when you were happy and living normally. He was there the whole time...but he didn't come to you. He was so close, but yet so far.
"I hate you..." You whimpered as you sobbed.
"I fucking hate you..Why would you do this to me?? WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS??? WHY WOULD YOU FUCKING TELL ME THIS NOW??!! WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU WHEN I NEEDED YOU?? WHY WOULD YOU PUSH ME AWAY LIKE RAG DOLL??" you wailed, as you sat on your knees, your tears not stopping, as you let your emotions out.
You felt a pair of hands wrap you, as you felt a hard warmth against you, despite the coldness of the rain. Ran reached out towards you, getting on his knees, hugging you closely, as he missed the warmth of your body against his. No matter how many women he had slept with or dates, no one could replicate the warmth you made him feel from the inside as well as the outside. Even if he would be sleeping with someone, the only woman he would end up thinking of, was you, no matter how much he tried to push you back.
"YOU CHOSE THIS RAN!! YOU CHOSE YOUR FUCKING CRIMES AND DELINQUENCY OVER ME!! YOU FUCKING TURNED YOUR BACK ON ME WHEN I ASKED YOU FOR ONE THING! SO WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME NOW?? WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME GO THROUGH THE PAIN AGAIN?? I HATE YOUU!! I HATE YOU RAN HAITANI!! I HATE YOU FOR PUTTING ME THROUGH THIS, YET STILL MAKING ME NOT FORGET ABOUT YOU. I HATE YOU FOR BEING AN ASSHOLE YET STILL MAKING ME LOVE YOU!!"
Ran patiently hugged you in his arms, despite you hitting his chest with your, as he caressed your head by his one arm while his other arm tightly wrapped around you, as you both were still on your knees, you weeping your soul out, as he took all your punches and insults with a pained smile.
As you slightly calmed down, breathing heavily accompanied by hiccups and sniffles and your nose becoming red, Ran did not leave his grasp from you, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not running after you. For not chasing you as i should've done the moment you stepped out the door. For not giving you the stuff and love you deserved. For making you go through hell. You maybe the thing i regret...but you're also the greatest thing that could've happened to me."
Your tears flowed as you gripped onto his shirt, him not caring you messed up his well ironed shirt, as tears stained the fabric, while he continued to speak, "I do not regret falling in love with you. I do not regret keeping a part of you buried in my heart. I do not regret seeing the smile on your face even if it means i have to keep myself from just hugging you and kissing you right then and there. But you don't deserve to be in my world. You're too precious to me. I love you.."
You whimpered as you heard the last three words, as Ran held a pained smile, exhaling harshly, "I love you more than the stars and moon, enough to make me fall on my knees, enough to burn the whole world just for your sake, enough for you to be happy without me. You don't have to say it back. I know you won't. You have your own life and own world to live in.
You gripped onto his shirt tighter as he hugged you more closely, "I hope the man who you are with, whose place i wished I had taken with you, makes you happy, more happy than I could've ever kept you. Gives you the happiness you deserve more than anything in the entire world. I love you (NAME). I would always love you."
You sat in the rain as he held you in his arms, as you weeped your heart out, while pained exhales came out from him, as he didn't stop hugging and caressing you. You two sat like this for an hour as you calmed down alongside the rain.
The rain droplets ceased to exist as you two sat in the middle of the street, sitting across each other, your legs and arms folded.
After a while after the rain stopped, you sat in silence before getting up slowly, "I gotta go."
Ran nodded as he got up with you as well, as you turned around and walked towards your car at a distance. Ran didn't utter a word, as he saw you leaving without any acknowledgement, He was just relieved he could finally confess his long felt feelings, as he had mentally prepared for this.
As you opened your car door, you stood still for a few seconds, before turning to face him slightly, "I hope somewhere in this universe...there's a life where we could be for each other, love each other just the way we would, a life where we would choose each other, but its not this one...Not this lifetime..."
Ran stood still as he watched you utter those words, as he smiled slightly, "Then i would choose you in every single one of them.."
You gave him a pained but genuine smile for the first time, before you stepped in your car, as Ran watched you drive away, as this was the last time he would ever see you again. Ran smiled, as this time he was the one looking up the sky, holding back his tears.
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Please do like, comment and reblog!!
Not gonna lie it motivates me hehe
But hope yall enjoyed it!
Requests are open!
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baby-tini · 5 months ago
Note
Can I request cheater! Bonten Mikey (angst) but then regretted/ try to win her back? Thank you in advance!
TW- Cheating, implied abuse You didn't know how stressful running a gang could be- much less the biggest criminal organization in the whole of Japan. So you thought it might be best too give Mikey some space, give him time too himself and let him relax. You fully trusted Mikey, he's never betrayed your trust, never lied to you and never gave you a reason too doubt him. He was sweet to you, buys you the prettiest things and treats you like a princess. But, when you got back to his office, after being out for a couple hours, you could hear the sounds of skin-slapping and the creak of his desk. You didn't have too open his office door too know what was happening and you didn't, you doubted you could handle seeing Mikey like that, especially with another person, you knew he wasn't... as attentive as usual but, it wasn't too weird for you. Mikey just needs some alone time, you didn't think it would be anything like.. this. You didn't know how fast you ran out of the building, your head was so foggy, everything felt.. fake.
You knew you couldn't stay, that was it. You loved Mikey, promised too stay- he made you promise him over and over again until your throat was raw as he stared at you blankly. But, you couldn't take knowing that he was so intimate with someone else, so... physically connected to someone that wasn't you. You truly believed with everything that Mikey would never do something like that- like this to you. But then again.. you truly didn't know anything about Mikey, he never opened up, never gave you any unnecessary or personal details from his childhood or his life in general. You packed everything you could fit in your bag as soon as you got to the penthouse you shared with Mikey- well, not really shared.. he payed for everything, it truly was a beautiful penthouse but you couldn't stay. How long and how many you wondered, did he ever fuck women in the bed you shared together? Did he ever caress your cheek with the same fingers that were.. inside someone else...? Ever kiss you after kissing someone else? Ever.. ever spread your legs open and make love to you after he was done with someone else? Did he ever think of someone else as he fucked into you and told you he loved you? You knew he kept a stash of cash in the closet in case of emergencies, he told you if anything ever happened it would be there, should you need it, knowing he couldn't be with you all the time. It felt like a good reason so you took it, took a good couple thousand dollars, at least enough too last while you figured everything out and got far away from him. You couldn't.. go back after this, this was just too much. You knew realistically this could never be fixed and there was no going back for the both of you, you just hoped that Mikey would leave you be after he found you gone, would accept the note you left in place of your presence. It had been a couple hours after you left when he came home, exhausted and yearning too relax with you. He didn't like that you never came back to his office, but that was probably for the best, considering the session he had with that woman took a lot longer then he thought, but it's no big deal, her pussy wasn't nearly as tight as yours anyway. He quickly became irritated when he kept calling your name, you know he hates repeating himself, you've had bruises before, physically showing you how much he hated repeating himself. But, he'd just have to teach you anothe rlesson, be a little firmer with you this time. He froze when he saw the room you shared together a mess, clothes thrown about and the closet door open, the room was a mess the bedsheets were tossed and the gun he kept hidden away behind the clothes in the closet were gone. He had immediately grabbed his phone, planning too have all of his executives out looking for you, assuming it was a kidnapping at first. Until he saw the note, the white paper crinkled and under messy, crinkled blankets. Assuming it was a ransom note, he snatcjed it, eyes looking for a sum of money, when he didn't find one, he read over the paper carefully, making sure he didn't miss a word.
"Mikey, I truly don't know how too start this note... something like this has never happened before- never thought it would happen to be honest with you. I never thought you would do something so... unforgiving, after all the moments we shared together. The way you'd hold me when I cried, the way you'd kiss my tears away. I never knew a man like you could be so gentle, but you were. You held me, treated me like fragile glass, sometimes I thought, that you thought I would break if you were too rough. The way you would hold me while you made love to me, made me promise too stay and I did, but.. I can't anymore after hearing you in your office with someone else. The thought of you being so intimate with someone breaks me.. it'll break me for a while. I don't think I could ever look into those beautiful onyx eyes that I love- use too love. Knowing you've looked into others eyes as you did mine. I can't bare the thought of you holding someone as they called out your name, kissed you as they yearned for your touch. I promised too stay... but this is the only promise I'll ever break to you. I love you, more then anything, I'll always love you even when I'm gone. I just wished you'd feel the same. Goodbye Manjiro Sano, hopefully forever." There were wet spots on the note, bleeding through the paper as he got to the end. Reaching up to his burning eyes, they were wet, vision clouding and becoming blurry as his wet lashes stuck together. The salty tears ran down his cheeks as his hand started too shake and his breathing became heavier. He was struggling too breathe, too understand the note, his head was foggy and blank.. but also over-whelming with different scenarios of you, he doesn't even recognize his own voice when it comes out hoarse and rugged. You're walking out of his life, and as you wanted, possibly forever. "I can't... that can't happen angel. You can't leave- can't leave me. You promised and I won't let you break that promise. You'll understand how much I love you when I get you back" He pulled his phone out, calling Sanzu too immediately track you down, you belonged with him- with home. You were- are everything to him, the only thing left that he holds close. He's selfish, he knows that, he knows why you left but he didn't actually think you would... his chest hurts, feels like it's caving in on itself. He needs you, more then he thought, he can't and he won't let you leave- let you just walk away from him like this. Over his dead body.
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candyeager · 26 days ago
Text
𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎
— sanzu haruchiyo x fem!reader
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PART ONE 4.9k words
short summary. in which your heartbreak over Mikey pulls you into the dangerous and irresistible orbit of Bonten's Number Two, Haruchiyo Sanzu. warnings. sanzu haruchiyo is his own warning, graphic violence, substance abuse, toxic/manipulative relationships, explicit sexual content, depression & self-destructive behaviour, strong language. tags. female reader insert, bonten au, tsundere!sanzu, ex-boyfriend!mikey, angst with a happy ending, slow burn, heavy pining/yearning.
masterlist
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Manjiro Sano once promised you forever. He'd said it so easily back then, like it was a given, something as natural as breathing. You were fifteen, standing by the riverbank after another reckless night, his blonde hair glowing under the streetlights. He had to tilt his head up to meet your eyes then, his expression so open, so sure.
"It's you and me, always."
Now, nearly ten years later, that memory feels like a lifeline in the middle of a storm. You hold onto it so tightly that your knuckles turn white. It's the only thing keeping you grounded as you stand in the shadowed corner of a chapel, watching him slip a ring onto another woman's finger.
The bride is stunning, of course. Her white gown flows around her like something out of a dream, her face set in a serene mask of duty. And Manjiro—Mikey—he looks... distant. Like he's not even there, going through the motions, his face unreadable, hollow. It's a mask you've seen him wear too many times now, a defense mechanism, something to protect the broken parts of him he never lets anyone see.
You sip your wine slowly, the bitter taste doing little to mask the bile rising in your throat. A strange mixture of dark satisfaction and aching sadness twists inside you, an uncomfortable knot of emotions you can't quite unravel. 
He doesn't love her, you remind yourself. He's still yours. He promised.
But the truth is, the wine does little to dull the sharp edge of betrayal. The ceremony feels like a bad dream, one you can't wake up from. 
It's a sham. Just a business arrangement, nothing more. A duty to his late brother Shinichiro, who made a deal with her family long ago, a deal Mikey feels bound to honor. You respect that, you always have. His loyalty is part of what made you fall for him all those years ago.
But it still feels like a knife in your chest, twisted with every vow spoken. You won't question it though. You can't. Because questioning it would mean questioning Shin's memory, and that's something you'll never do. Still, the pain lingers, like a bruise you can't stop pressing on.
As the ceremony ends and the couple walks down the aisle, Mikey's eyes meet yours, even from across the room. For a brief moment, his lips curve into that familiar soft smile, the one that's always been just for you, full of unspoken words and old promises. It's enough to settle your nerves, if only slightly. 
He's still yours, you remind yourself again. This doesn't change anything.
The guests start to shuffle toward the reception hall, but you hang back, feeling the taste of the wine and the weight of the day pressing down on you. The laughter and chatter fades as you step into a quieter hallway, seeking a moment of solitude, a reprieve from the overwhelming noise of celebration.
But you're not alone. A figure leans against the far wall, tall and lean, with faded pink hair that you'd recognize anywhere.
Haruchiyo Sanzu.
Of course, he'd be here. Even though no one from Bonten was supposed to attend, you should've known Sanzu would show up, disregarding protocol like he always does. He's dressed in one of his garish purple suits, the cigarette in his hand burning slowly as he takes a long drag, his katana resting lazily against the wall next to him. The sight of it makes you roll your eyes despite the situation. How he manages to carry that damn thing everywhere without someone calling the cops on him is beyond you.
He doesn't even look at you as you approach, though you know he's aware of your presence. Sanzu's always like that—aloof, unreadable, like he's waiting for something but never telling you what.
Your heels click against the marble floor, the sound too loud in the silence, as you stop in front of him. You cross your arms, defensive. 
You've never liked him. Not since the beginning. And he's never made an effort to hide the fact that he feels the same way about you. His disdain has been obvious for years now—cutting comments, backhanded remarks. Always just subtle enough to avoid Mikey's wrath.
"You shouldn't be here, Number Two," you say, your voice sharp, cutting through the haze of tension.
Sanzu exhales a slow stream of smoke, not bothering to meet your gaze as he taps the ash onto the floor, a flick of his wrist that seems deliberate in its carelessness. 
"Neither should you," he replies, voice lazy, eyes flickering toward you briefly before he adds, with a smirk, "Mistress."
The word lands like a punch to the gut. You stiffen, your chest tightening as anger flares hot and fast inside you. You want to snap back, to tell him to fuck off, but you hold it in, forcing yourself to stay composed.
Sanzu's teal eyes slide back to you, and there's a gleam in them that you hate—a predatory gleam, like he's enjoying this far too much. He tilts his head, studying you like you're something amusing, something to poke and prod until it breaks.
"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" His voice is smooth, laced with mockery. "You know, it's almost cute. The way you're still holding out hope. Like he's going to drop everything and come running back to you."
Your jaw clenches, but you don't give him the satisfaction of a reaction. You've dealt with Sanzu long enough to know better than to let him get under your skin. He feeds off that kind of thing, turns it into a weapon.
"Shut up," you bite out, your voice low, controlled. "You don't know a damn thing about us."
That earns you a smirk, his scarred lips curling into something cold and twisted. "Don't I?" He takes another drag of his cigarette, exhaling slowly as if savoring the moment. 
"I know enough. I know he's up there, at the altar, with his wife, while you're out here clinging to whatever scraps he throws you."
You feel your fists tighten at your sides, nails biting into your palms. The urge to slap that smug look off his face is overwhelming, but you know better. You've learned that lesson the hard way. Sanzu isn't just annoying—he's dangerous. And he wouldn't hesitate to turn this entire ceremony into a disaster just to prove a point.
"Fuck you," you snap, barely keeping your voice steady.
Sanzu's smile fades, replaced by something colder, something far more dangerous. His eyes narrow, and for a brief moment, you wonder if you've pushed him too far. But then he chuckles, low and dark, like he's enjoying the tension between you.
"Feisty today, huh?" His voice is almost amused, but there's an edge to it, a warning. "You're out here sulking while your beloved plays house. Maybe that fairy tale you're clinging to doesn't mean shit anymore."
You feel your heart hammering in your chest, a mix of anger and something you can't quite place. It's the truth in his words that stings the most, the haunting possibility that he could be be right.
"At least I'm not the one standing out here with a stupid katana looking like a fucking fool," you shoot back, your voice sharp.
Sanzu's eyes flash, but instead of responding, he steps forward, closing the distance between you in an instant. His presence is suffocating, too close, too intense. You feel your pulse quicken, the air between you crackled with unspoken danger.
"Maybe," he murmurs, his voice low, almost a growl. "But you're not untouchable. Sooner or later, even Mikey won't be able to protect you. Then what?"
His words hang in the air like a threat, and for the first time, a shiver of uncertainty runs through you. You meet his gaze, refusing to show fear, but something about the way he's looking at you now—cold, calculating—makes your stomach churn.
You don't answer. Instead, you turn and walk away, your heels echoing in the empty hallway. But Sanzu's words linger, like a dark cloud that follows you, heavy and inescapable. You push them down, focusing on the only thing that matters: Mikey's promise.
But deep down, you wonder if Sanzu's right. And that thought, more than anything, terrifies you.
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Manjiro Sano keeps his promises. At least, that's what you've always believed. He said it with conviction when you were fifteen, when his bright blonde hair caught the sunlight and his eyes reflected an unwavering certainty. His promises became your lifeline, a thread that tethered you to him, through the chaos of Tokyo Manji, through Bonten, through all the things that should have torn you apart. You never doubted him.
But now, with a ring on another woman's finger, that belief feels less like truth and more like denial. 
You lie beside him, his arms wrapped loosely around you, his breath steady against your skin. In the quiet darkness, you try to convince yourself that this—you—is still his reality. Not the woman he married out of obligation. Not the business empire he's running. But you, the one he promised forever. The one he swore to love no matter what. 
But there's something cold in his touch tonight. Not the soft warmth you used to know, but a distant, mechanical tenderness. His fingers trace absent patterns on your skin, but they feel foreign now, like they're just going through the motions. He's here, physically, but his mind is far away, lost in a place you can't reach.
"Did something happen?" you ask, keeping your voice light, even as anxiety twists in your stomach. 
He's staring at the ceiling, eyes vacant, as if the weight of the world is pressing down on his chest. The silence is thick, heavy, a barrier between you that wasn't there before. You wish he'd tell you. You wish he'd break through that wall and let you in, but he never does. Not anymore.
He shifts slightly, his eyes meeting yours for just a second. "What do you mean, love?" His voice is soft, casual, but there's something missing. Something that used to be there—a spark, a fire that you could always count on. Now, it's just... hollow.
"You seem distracted," you murmur, choosing your words carefully, even though your heart is screaming to ask more.
Mikey sighs, his chest rising and falling beneath you. He pulls you closer, but the embrace feels almost... polite. Like he's afraid to hold on too tightly. You want to shake him, to tell him to stop being so careful. To hold you like he used to—like he was afraid of losing you. But instead, he just holds you the way someone holds a fragile thing.
"Yeah," he admits, his voice quieter now, as though he's confessing something he doesn't want to. "It's just Bonten stuff."
And that's it. The conversation ends. Your heart clenches at the emptiness of his explanation, at how easily he can sweep your concerns under the rug. 
You know Bonten is complicated—dangerous even—but you've always been kept at a distance from that side of his world. He's never let you close enough to see the true depth of what he's carrying. You've respected his boundaries, trusted him, but now you wonder if that distance is starting to destroy you.
"Oh." The word leaves your lips, but it feels small, insignificant.
The silence returns, thicker than before, wrapping itself around both of you like a suffocating shroud. You stare at him, at the man you once thought you knew so completely, and wonder when he became a stranger.
You want to reach out, to bridge the gap, but fear holds you back. There's a fragility in the air tonight, something that makes you hesitate. If you push too hard, if you ask for too much, you're afraid the entire thing will shatter. Maybe it already has. Maybe that's why his touch feels different now, why his kisses lack the urgency they once had.
You long for the Mikey who would stay up with you until dawn, laughing, his arms tight around you as if you were his whole world. You miss the nights when he couldn't keep his hands off you, when his love felt raw and reckless, a fire that burned brighter than anything else. Now, it's all ashes.
"You don't have to carry it all alone," you whisper, hoping that your words might reach him, might bring him back from wherever he's gone. "I can help. You don't always have to protect me from it."
He doesn't respond right away. For a long moment, there's only the sound of his breathing, deep and rhythmic. When he finally speaks, his voice is distant, almost resigned.
"I know."
But he doesn't mean it. You can hear it in the way he says it—like it's just something he's supposed to say, not something he believes. His walls are still up, and you're on the outside, no matter how close you are in this bed, no matter how many nights you spend together.
You press your cheek against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Once, that sound would have comforted you. Now, it only makes you feel more alone. Even when he's with you, he's somewhere else. And the space between you grows wider every day.
"Mikey..." you try again, but your voice falters. 
You want to tell him you're scared. That you're afraid you're losing him, that this marriage is pulling him further away from you than you can bear. But the words won't come.
He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, but it feels like a goodbye more than a reassurance. And that scares you most of all.
You close your eyes, trying to drown out the doubts, the fear, the aching emptiness. But it lingers, like a shadow that won't go away. You tell yourself he still loves you. He promised you forever. He's just... distracted. It's Bonten. It's the marriage. It's everything else.
But deep down, you know. You know that the Mikey who promised you forever is slipping further and further away. And no matter how hard you try, you can't seem to pull him back.
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Manjiro Sano never lies to you. He never has before, and you never thought he could. You know he keeps secrets sometimes, but it's always to protect you—or so you've convinced yourself. You've clung to this justification, repeating it like a prayer when things feel too uncertain. 
When there's a question he doesn't want to answer, he'll give you a vague response, the kind that leaves you in a haze of ambiguity, and you never push him further. You know better than to force the issue. Sometimes, he'll be blunt and tell you outright that it's none of your concern. But a lie? Never.
At least, he never did until now.
Sitting across from him, in the dim light of your shared apartment, the shadows cast across his face, you notice the subtle shift in his expression. His gaze remains low, unfocused, like he's avoiding you. The way his fingers tap against the armrest of his chair—once steady, now restless—betrays him. The quiet cadence of the room, punctuated by the tension building between you, only makes his discomfort more pronounced. 
You know he's lying, even though the words are barely out of his mouth. It feels like a crack splintering through the foundation of your entire relationship.
It's not that you're good at detecting lies; you've never needed to be, not with him. His cold distance has always been paired with an odd, unwavering honesty, no matter how painful it could be. But this time? This time, he's hiding something. His body language is too off, too tense, like he's barely holding onto his own façade.
You asked a simple question: "Where were you?"
He hasn't been home in a week. It's not unusual—Mikey has never been the type to stick around. You've long since accepted the lonely nights, the excuses of 'business meetings' and 'late-night operations' with Bonten. You'd even accepted the wife. 
But something feels different now, a gnawing unease that claws at the back of your mind. You thought he'd say he was dealing with Bonten's usual mayhem, or perhaps, reluctantly admit that he'd been spending time with her. Anything would've been better than the silence hanging in the air now, thick with unspoken truths.
But you never expected him to lie.
Instead of the rage you thought would surge, an icy dread curls through your chest. Fear. A raw, unsettling fear that digs its nails into you as you realize just how far away he feels. As if he's not just sitting across from you, but miles away, unreachable. The distance between you stretches and stretches, suffocating in its vastness. It's like watching him drift out to sea while you stand, helpless, on the shore.
You need answers. The kind you know Mikey won't give you. So you turn to the only other person who might know what's going on: Haruchiyo Sanzu.
God, you hate him. There's not a day that passes where you don't fantasize about knocking that arrogant smirk off his face. Sanzu embodies everything that repels you—his cruelty, his recklessness, his toxic devotion to Mikey. But one thing you can count on is that Sanzu never spares your feelings. If anything, he takes sadistic pleasure in tearing you down with his cold truths. 
And that's why you're standing here, in front of his door, hand trembling slightly as you press the doorbell. The silence stretches, your heartbeat loud in your ears. You press the button again, your anxiety spiking with each passing second. 
Finally, the door creaks open, and there he is—Sanzu. He leans lazily against the doorframe, like your presence is a personal offense. His disheveled appearance surprises you—hair unkempt, shirt unbuttoned at the top. There's a faint scent of soap, but he looks like he's been in a rush, as if your arrival interrupted something.
His eyes narrow, flashing with irritation. "The fuck are you doing here?" His voice is cold, almost bored, like he can't be bothered to care.
"I need to talk to you." You're surprised your voice comes out steady when everything inside you feels like it's spiraling out of control.
Sanzu doesn't even give you the courtesy of a full response. He turns, slamming the door behind him, heading toward the elevator without a second glance. You follow, your pulse quickening. His long strides make it difficult to keep up.
"Where are you going?" you ask, slightly breathless. You hate how small you feel next to him, like you're always scrambling to catch up.
"To work. Where else?" He doesn't even look back as he taps the elevator button impatiently. His eyes flick to you briefly, condescending, before he adds, "Unlike you, I don't have the luxury of doing nothing all day."
The dismissiveness in his tone grates on your nerves. You swallow back the retort, knowing it's not worth the fight. You're not here to argue with Sanzu—you're here for something much more important.
The elevator ride is thick with tension, the air suffocating between you. He stares at the floor numbers as they change, clearly eager to get away from you. You take a deep breath, summoning the courage to say what you came here for.
"I need to ask you about Bonten." Your words feel heavy in the silence.
Sanzu's head snaps toward you, eyes sharp and piercing. There's a moment of silence, and you feel the weight of his stare, like he's assessing how much to toy with you before answering.
"I warned you," he says, voice dangerously low. "Stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. Just because you're Mikey's little sidepiece doesn't mean you're part of this world."
Sidepiece. The word hits like a slap, stinging far more than you'd care to admit. But you hold your ground, your voice sharper now as you bite back, "I was asking nicely, wasn't I?"
He lets out a cruel chuckle, his amusement laced with mockery. "And you should've known better than to come to me."
When the elevator doors open, Sanzu strides out, leaving you to catch up once again. You hurry behind him, the cold concrete of the basement parking lot biting through your shoes as you watch him head toward the row of parked bikes.
"Just tell me where Mikey's been," you call out, your voice cracking slightly. The desperation seeps through despite your best efforts to keep it buried. 
Sanzu doesn't even slow down. He throws a leg over his black superbike, adjusting the helmet in his hands. 
His tone is icy as he responds, "Why the hell would I tell you?"
You feel the panic rising, the gnawing insecurity clawing at your chest. You can't let this go. 
"It's his wife, isn't it? Something's going on between them?" The words tumble out before you can stop them, but you know it's true.
Sanzu finally turns to face you, his expression dark, a twisted glint in his eyes. "You really wanna know?" His voice is like a knife, cold and cutting. 
"Married couples fuck and have kids. You didn't think they'd just sit around holding hands, did you?"
Your world tilts. Pregnant. Mikey's wife is pregnant. The words hang in the air, crushing you. Sanzu's bike roars to life, drowning out everything as he speeds away, leaving you standing there, reeling.
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Manjiro Sano says he still loves you. He says it so many times, even when you confront him about her pregnancy. You have tears in your eyes, your voice quivering as the words left your lips. His hands, warm and gentle, hold you close—just like always. The softness in his embrace feels too familiar, almost comforting, like you could convince yourself, just for a moment, that nothing has changed. That you could still believe him.
He'd whispers that she might be his wife, but you are the one who had his heart. That his feelings for you haven't shifted, not even after this new life he is bringing into the world. That you still matter.
But something about it never sits right after that day.
It isn't the sex that bothers you. You've made peace with that. He is married, after all, and while it stings, you tell yourself it's just physical. Something they have to do. Something that won't affect your place in his life. Mikey's quiet assurances of love are enough to quell the hurt, at least for a while. He always knows exactly what to say, how to soothe your insecurities without letting them fester.
Until they do.
Each time he doesn't come home, doesn't call, doesn't text—each time he leaves you waiting, that old promise of his love grows weaker. It starts to feel like a distant echo, hollow and fragile. The uncertainty eats you away, the creeping doubt filling the space between your conversations. And then comes the guilt. You couldn't ignore it anymore, couldn't shove it to the back of your mind. She is pregnant with his child. 
And you? 
You are the other woman now. The mistress. The sidepiece. 
You tell yourself to be patient, to wait it out, to trust him. But those same reassurances you cling to begin unraveling with every unanswered phone call. Mikey's silences cut deeper than his words ever could, a painful reminder that you are no longer the center of his world. You are becoming the afterthought.
And today is your ninth anniversary. Nine years.
Nine years since the day the two of you had become inseparable, since the day you thought you'd be each other's forever. And as you get ready, as you slip on your favorite dress and touch up your makeup, you're hit with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia—memories flooding back of how you used to be. How easy it was back then, how natural everything felt when there were no lies between you. 
It takes everything in you to keep your spirits up as you head to his office, imagining the look on his face when you surprise him. Maybe that's what you need—a face-to-face reminder of who you are to him. That spark between you will rekindle, and the distance will melt away.
You hope.
The lobby feels colder than usual, and as you step inside, something feels off. The receptionist greets you with a stiff smile. You've seen her enough times to know that she's never this tense. She doesn't say much, but there's an awkwardness in the air, like she knows something you don't.
Your nerves tighten as you enter the elevator. The ride to the top floor feels longer than usual, the anticipation in your chest growing with each passing second. When the doors open, you step out into the executive lounge, the familiar sight of Bonten's most trusted members lounging around.
Ran is the first to notice you, his lazy smirk never quite reaching his eyes. Kakucho is next, nearly spilling his drink when he spots you.
"You okay there?" you ask with a light laugh, trying to ignore the unease in the pit of your stomach.
Kakucho straightens up, but his eyes dart nervously toward the hallway that leads to Mikey's office. "You here to see Mikey?" he asks, his voice strained.
You nod, offering him a small smile. "Yeah. I thought I'd surprise him." 
Ran's smirk doesn't falter, but there's something about the way he's watching you that makes your skin prickle. 
"Surprise, huh?" he says, his voice cool and detached.
Kakucho shifts uncomfortably, his gaze flickering between you and the hallway again. "Maybe now isn't the best time..." he starts, his voice trailing off as if he doesn't want to finish the thought.
But you brush off the strange tension between them. Kakucho's always been awkward with you, right? 
You make your way down the hall, your heels clicking against the marble floors in rhythm with your racing heart. This is supposed to be a happy moment—your anniversary. You don't want to ruin it by reading too much into their strange behavior.
But then you hear it.
A voice. Her voice.
You freeze mid-step, the sound of her moaning his name sending a violent shock through your system. The world around you blurs, your body moving on autopilot as you edge closer to the door, your hand trembling as you press it against the wood. The crack in the door is just wide enough for you to see.
Mikey is there, his wife's legs draped over his shoulders, his hands on her thighs, his face pressed between her legs.
You can't breathe. 
This is different.
Not the act itself—but the intimacy, the tenderness in how he touches her. He's doing something for her that he's never done for you. Not once, in all your time together, had he ever gone down on you. But here he is, giving her something more, something deeper. And you feel your heart shatter into a million pieces.
You can't stay here.
Your feet carry you backward, your movements slow, cautious. You shut the door as softly as you can, careful not to make a sound. Your entire body feels numb, a sick feeling twisting in your stomach as you stand there, staring at the ground, trying to process what you've just seen. 
Why did he never do that for you?
A rush of shame washes over you, mingling with the rage bubbling in your chest. You'd always told yourself you were enough for him. But now you wonder—were you? Was it all a lie, just something to keep you hanging on, while he gave her all the things you thought were reserved for you?
The world feels like it's tilting around you, the walls closing in as you stand there, numb. The sound of footsteps snaps you back to reality.
"You're here to see Mikey too?" Kakucho's voice filters through the haze.
"Yeah, yeah," comes the lazy reply. 
It's Sanzu, his voice slurred and casual, as if nothing in the world could touch him. He's closer now, and you barely register it, lost in the whirlwind of your own thoughts.
Ran's voice follows, a teasing edge to his tone. "Dude, you're tripping balls."
Sanzu laughs, a sound so careless it makes your skin crawl. "Friday night, what'd you expect?"
Before you can fully process the situation, a rough hand grabs you by the arm and yanks you back. You stumble, whirling around to face him.
Sanzu.
His teal eyes are wild, bloodshot and blown wide from whatever cocktail of drugs he's taken today. You know he's high, as the smell of drugs clinging to him, intoxicating the air around you.
"What the fuck are you up to this time?" he sneers, his voice low and mocking.
You try to pull away, but his grip tightens, his fingers digging painfully into your arm. "S-Sanzu, I—"
He cuts you off, his face uncomfortably close to yours now. "Scared?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. The sick amusement in his voice makes your stomach turn. He's enjoying this—enjoying your fear, your vulnerability.
You try to twist free, but he pulls you closer, his lips curling into a twisted smile. "You should be," he whispers, his voice dripping with malice.
Your heart races, panic clawing at your chest. Sanzu when he's like this—high, unpredictable—is a beast you've learned to fear. He's always been unstable, but now, he's downright terrifying.
Yet, as you stand there, trembling in his grasp, all you can think about is Mikey. The lie he told you. The image of him with her, of how easily he discarded you, flashes through your mind again and again.
I still love you.
The words are poison now, burning through you as Sanzu's grip tightens.
< part one ends >
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author's notes. heyy sanzu kinnies <3 i'm so excited to finally share the first part of 'bonten's number two'!! this idea has been brewing in my head for two years lol and i cant wait to see what you think ;) if you enjoyed it, please consider leaving notes! i'd love to hear your thoughts!! thanks for reading guys! you're awesome (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و
taglist. @iluv-ace @reiners-milkbiddies (comment below if you’d like to be added to the taglist!)
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© CANDYEAGER. do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my works in any other platforms.
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spacebaby1 · 3 months ago
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hiyaaa
Can I ask Rindou's reaction to the fact that his partner is expecting his child?
and for more drama (I'm a dramatic girl and I love drama) you could have Rindou's partner hide the situation from him
drama, angst but happy ending 😝
Hiii! Bestie, I got you! One thing about me is that I live for drama in writing 🎀😌🫱🏻‍🫲🏼 let's start!
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You and Rindou never had an argument because he always listened to you, but that didn't last long. You couldn't even remember what escalated the whole conversation into an argument, which led to Rindou slamming the door behind him as he left you'd house last night. The whole night you couldn't sleep not until the sun was out and your eyes gave up from all the crying; you weren't even sure why you were feeling emotional usually it's hard to make you cry. Anyways, you fell asleep around the early hours of the day after shutting your phone completely.
All the crying tired your body to no end that you ended up sleeping until late afternoon. Around four in the afternoon you woke up with a painful headache and aching in your abdomen and before you could grab your phone you felt your stomach turned and you ran to the bathroom, throwing up for a good half an hour before you sat on the bathroom floor.
The memories of yesterday's argument came rushing to you after you were back in your room sitting on your bed with your head in your hands. You weren't feeling well at all and thought the argument took a toll on you so bad that you were about to get sick. You didn't question the vomiting because it was how you'd react if you had a heated argument; it was natural body response to you. Finally, picking up your phone, you turned it on only for Rindou's texts. Fill your screen, followed by numerous of missed calls:
My love: Baby are you okay?
Look, I'm really sorry for shouting at you. I just lost control. But it wasn't your fault. It was me. Please forgive me?
My love:Darling? Can I call you?
*missed call*
*missed call*
My love: baby please answer me, at least end the ringing so I'll know you can see my calls.
My love: I'm so soo sooo sorry
My love: I can't sleep after I made you upset, I'm an idiot! I wish I can hold you right now...
My love: Are you sleeping, sweetie? Good night, my beautiful baby.
12:23 P.M
My love: baby? Sweetheart? Please text back.
My love: at least tell me you're not hurt I'm fucking going insane!
My love: y/n! Baby, I'm sorry!
3:50 P.M
My love: I'm worried about you angel, text me! It's not your usual self to sleep this much.
My love: Can I come by? I'm sorry baby, please don't give me the silent treatment. I'm so sorry, and i would apologize a thousand times if it means you'll forgive me the thousandth time."
He must've seen you reading the texts, and before you could reply, he called you. You sighed and answered, "Baby? Baby, are you okay?" You heard his tired voice. It wasn't until you answered that you realised how sore your throat was, "hi," it came out almost as a whisper before your cough holding the phone away a bit. Rindou panicked at the sound of your tired voice and coughing, "I'm coming over-"
"No, please not now," you replied in a low voice, "I'm not feeling well, just-just- I nee-" you were crying again, he heard you snuffling. "D-dont cry," now he was crying, You shook your head as if he could see you, "I'm so sorry, I hurt you. "I'm so sorry and i would apologize a thousand times if it means you'll forgive me the thousandth time. Just let me see you."
"Please, Rindou. I need space."
"You're not breaking up with me, are you?" He asked with a shaking voice. "No, Rin, I just need to be alone now." You heard his little sigh, "Okay, baby. Did you just wake up? You sound tired, let me order you some food-"
"No, Rin. I can-"
"No, please. At least let me do what I'm supposed to do as your boyfriend. Let me take care of you?" He sounded defeated, but you loved how he always took care of you No matter where he was. "Okay, I love you." You could almost hear his smile when you said that, "I love you more baby, call me if you need anything." You hung up and rubbed your forehead. The next two days were blurry because of how exhausted and sick you were. Usually, you'd let the fever go away, but it kept getting worse to the point that you couldn't put food down in your stomach.
On the third day you decided to visit the doctors and run some blood test to make sure it isn't anything serious and you wish it wasn't what you heard. "Miss Y/n? The blood test shows that everything is fine, just a slight changes in BP but it's normal at this stage."
"Huh? What do you mean at this stage?" You asked the doctor, and she looked at you confused then back at the chart that she was holding. "The pregnancy, you are three months pregnant, Y/n. Did you not know that?" Your eyes widened, and you could barely hear anything after that. Suddenly, it hit you. You were late, and you've been feeling so much different.
"I'm pregnant? Three mo-month?" You whispered more to yourself than a question to your doctor. The doctor nodded, "it explains that vomiting and the abdominal pain, are you okay?"
You got up, " Can you do an ultrasound? Can i see it?"
The doctor nodded, "Sure, if you'd want to."
You almost cried when you saw the screen of your ultrasound, "This is the baby." She pointed at the screen, and you smiled, forgetting the whole world the moment you saw your baby, "do you want the prints?" You nodded, whipping your happy tears away. It wasn't until you got home and saw the picture of you and Rindou on your phone screen is when your smile dropped; Rindou will not take the news well, you thought to yourself and you thought you were doing a good job at avoiding his texts and calls; it was a bad idea because he only grew more concerned about your relationship.
It was another day of you feeling absolutely horrible and vomiting all morning until your stomach was in knots. You heard the frantic bell ringing, followed by knocking on the front door. Groaning you got up holding your stomach with one hand as to you made your way towards the front door without asking who it was you opend the door slowly only to find Rindou standing there with tired eyes and looking panicked. He immediately gathered you in his arms making you yelp in surprise of how hard he was holding you; one of his hands on the back of your head and the other hilding you by the shoulder, "how could you avoid me for two weeks? I'm going insane thinking about you, baby. Why do you hate me so much? Fuck! I missed you." You gasped for air, "Ri, you are c-cruching me, I'm in pain-" He immediately let go and you almost fell on the ground passing out but he held you to his chest as you caught your breath, "you gonna crush me to death?" You asked in a low voice and groaned in pain holding your stomach. "Did I hurt you? I am so sorry, baby." He picked you up bridle style and headed towards your room, carefully placing you on your bed before sitting beside you and checking your forehead, "baby? You're burning." You shook your head, holding his hand in yours, "it's nothing, just an upset stomach. W-what are you doing here?" You asked, feeling yourself drifting to sleep. He sat on the floor next to the bed, kissed your hand, "you haven't text back for two weeks. I was worried, and you're sick yet you didn't call me?"
You shook your head, "I went to the doctors, it's nothing just a stomachache, it'll go by it's own." Rindou shook his head, "No, let me take care of you, do you wanna eat something?"
"I can't, I'll throw up, and it only hurt my stomach more, I just need to lay down." You said almost in a whisper before eventually falling back asleep, still holding Rindou's hands. "My baby," he kissed your forehead before running to get some cold cloth and place it on your forehead. Since you were sleeping, he decided to tide up your vanity a bit since you couldn't do it, and he noticed your things everywhere.
Rindou picked your make-up and placed them to the side, then your accessories which he put away in the box, and he grabbed your other things and opend the drawer to put them away only to find the ultrasound prints next to the results. His heart started beating fast as he took the picture in hand, eyes wide open he read it again and again making sure what he was looking at was indeed a baby and the test had your name on it. You were pregnant, and he felt his eyes blurred when he saw the date; it was a two and half week old test. He could hold back his sobs as he looked at the ultrasound prints. He was trying not to wake you up with his sobbing and he was shaking so hard that he had to sit down on the floor because he didn't trust his knees to hold him standing; he's gonna be a father? Did you even want the baby? Why didn't you tell him?
He sobbed for an hour before making his way towards you and softly kissing your forehead which made you wake up, and you blinked at him. He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand with tears falling from his eyes which made you immediately sit on your bed, "Rinny? Wh-why are you crying? What's wrong?" You cupped his puffy face in your weak hands as your eyes met with his hand holding the ultrasound prints in his hands as more tears fell from his beautiful eyes, "Why didn't you tell me? I'm I not en-" you hugged him closer feeling yourself about to cry, "Don't say that, please." You whispered and he hugged you.
You both stayed like that for minutes and on until Rindou whipped his tears and sat beside you on the bed, with you covered with the blanket and head resting on his chest while he couldn't stop smiling at the picture of your baby. "I'm sorry I wasn’t there for this." You shook your head cuddling closer, "you seem happy." He looked down at you and wrapped his arms around you, "I'm gonna be a dad, of course I'm happy. I can't believe it. I'm gonna be a dad. There's gonna be a mini version of our love? I hope it's a girl, then she'll look as beautiful as you. Did you check? Is it a girl? Or boy?"
You chuckled at his excitement, "No, I didn't. I was just terrified and happy to see the baby." He hugged you closer, "you don't need to be terrified. We'll be great, Mama and dada. I promise."
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zeltqz · 1 year ago
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𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 [𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐃] ONE
| coming back after leaving the country for eight years, you reunite with old friends, family, and ex boyfriends.
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pairing. ex!ran x fem!reader
word count. 7.9k (long sorry not sorry)
series synopsis. bonten is forming and in the midst of it all, you find yourself caught in the sticky webs of your ex boyfriend and current bonten executive, haitani ran.
content. angst, first meetings, mentions of alcoholic mother in rehab, drinking mentions, bonten timeline, smoking mentions from Ran in flashback
a/n: nothing too bad this chapter but there's smut next chapter, promise 💯😎
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November 2005
“Shion,” you groaned and rubbed your head, massaging your scalp to try and tame your roaring headache. “Is your room available? I drank too much.”
“HUH?!” he yelled in your ear, unable to hear him over the music. Given your location, you didn’t get mad at him for screaming at you considering the fact you’re at a party with loud music. But still, it was probably the worst thing he could’ve done. 
“I said—” You raised your voice slightly, moving to speak in his ear. “Can I go to your room?”
He took another chug of his drink and nodded, pointing up the stairs. “First room on the left.” You planted a kiss on his cheek and thanked him before stumbling up from the couch. Following his instructions, you were on your way upstairs but the amount of moving bodies as they danced took up space, making you confused so you opened the first door you saw and locked it behind you.
You wasted no time before flopping onto his bed, fisting his sheets as you groaned when your headache thumped again. The sheets were so comfortable and warm you almost fell asleep. The door opened again suddenly and you fought back another groan when the booming music from downstairs passed through and blasted your ears. 
“Shion, close the damn door,” you said tiredly, uncaring about the aggression in your voice.
“Hot girl in my bed, that’s new,” the voice said suddenly and you stilled. Using all your strength, you blinked up at the man in the doorway. He was tall, holding onto a lighter in one hand, braids slipping past his shoulders. 
“This isn’t your bed…it’s Shion’s,” you groaned, explaining slowly. The headache makes your tone sound more annoyed than you’d planned on using, especially  with meeting a hot stranger. “Now shut the door.”
He snorted. “Shion’s is next door. This is my room.”
Your head pulsed sharply when you sat up instantly, spitting out rapid fire apologies as you knelt on his bed and redressed the sheets you crumpled from its neat position from lying down starfish on his bed. “I’m so so so sorry.”
"'S cool." His eyes were only focused on one thing, the sight of your dress riding up your thigh as you reached forwards, sliding your hands across the sheets to smooth them down and fluff up his pillows. The sight of your bare thigh was sensual, making him wish for nothing more than to reach out and run his fingers along it. He bet your skin was soft, inviting even, and his hands itched to sink his fingers into its warmth. The hunger stirred within his body as he watched you push the dress back down, covering your thigh once again as you slid off his bed, locking eyes with him. His eyes travelled up your body quickly until they stopped at your face, the intensity caused you to look away, flustered.
"So..." you started, swinging your awkwardly stiff arms by your side. "I'm gonna go..." you said, unable to handle the awkward situation.
"There's no point. There's a couple in there, you know how parties get."
"Oh," you breathed out, an expression that can be interpreted as sadness or defeat crossing your features.
"You can stay here though. As long as you don't mind smoking," he gestured to the lighter in his hands, and the unrolled joint tucked between his two fingers.
"I don't mind."
"Cool." He kicked the door shut behind him and moved to sit on his bed and pat the spot next to him. You were a little hesitant before stepping over to the bed, shifting backwards until your back pressed against his cold wall and crossed your legs.
"Why're you so far back? Come closer," he said, reaching out a hand, motioning with his free hand for you to come forward. You shook your head meekly, lightly scratching your nails down your arm. "C'monnn," he insisted, reaching out a hand and gently pulling you towards him.
Your protests were ignored before you sighed and allowed him to pull you forward. You sat next to him, intimidated by the proximity of your skin to his. His scent washed over you, causing goose bumps to rise on your skin as you plucked at the loose thread on his blanket.
He put the joint in his mouth, and nudged at your knee to grab your attention. "Do me a favour. Grab that candle in my drawer for me."
You obediently got up and crawled to the end of the bed, idly pulling down your dress when it rode up too far and opened his drawer. You were oblivious to his gaze down your legs, his strong eyes now turning red as he took a hit, blowing smoke through his nostrils.
"Is this the candle?" you asked, bringing out a lavender scented candle and waved it around.
He squinted his eyes to get a better look at it. "Yeah," he muttered, shifting onto his back, kicking a leg up and lacing his hand behind his head.
"Why do you have so many candles? Do you smoke a lot?" you asked, handing it to him and fitting yourself back next to him.
He was still relaxed, inhaling the smoke deeply and shook his head. "Only when I'm stressed," he exhaled, lifting his head back and blowing the smoke out into the air. You shifted on the bed, nervousness clawing at your insides as you found your eyes drawn to his lips wrapped around the joint. He was quite skilled, keeping his lips taut while smoke puffed out and his jaw clenched. Your heart rate picked up, beating heavily against your chest as you stared at his lips with longing.
As if sensing your unease, his eyes locked with yours, staring at you intensely for several seconds before he cleared his throat and removed the joint from his mouth.
"Why are you so nervous around me?" he asked, noticing the change in your behaviour.
You glanced up at him, surprised at his question. "Um, I'm not."
His eyebrows rose up to his forehead. "Sure you aren't. You're practically running away whenever we make eye contact." He reached out to poke your knee, laughing when you jumped slightly. "See? You're so jumpy, relax." His laughter calmed you down somewhat, allowing you to meet his gaze for longer than five seconds. He offered you the joint and you shook your head.
"You nervous? Never smoked before or something?" he asked, tilting his head to the side as he spoke.
You looked down at your lap, shaking your head. "Yeah, never. I can't handle the smell."
"No one likes the smell. It's about how it makes you feel," he responded, the words coming out slow as the joint began to take its course inside his body. He rolled his neck, working out any tension he felt and ran the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip.
You snorted, hiding a giggle between your palm. He looked over at you, raising an eyebrow at you but smiled and asked, "What's so funny?"
"You sound like a hippie," you giggled again, recounting his words and lowering your voice to match his pitch. "It's about how it makes you feel," you said between laughs.
He was too high to really understand what you were saying, but found himself laughing anyway. Eventually the laughing slowed down and the both of you sat silently. You were watching intently as he took another hit before offering it to you again.
Feeling more comfortable, you accepted and shifted closer to him as he sat up, leaning his body weight onto one elbow. Ran held it up to your lips and your eyes met as he instructed you on what to do.
"Inhale," he said, pausing briefly to watch your lips purse around the joint before continuing. "Slowly...hold it...now exhale," he finished, smiling encouragingly when you sucked in deeply. The smoke filled your lungs and you panicked, pulling away before exhaling and coughing harshly as your lungs protested the smoke.
Ran burst into laughter and shoved the joint back into his mouth, taking an easy hit as you doubled over, fighting to catch your breath as you tried to breathe properly. A heatwave flushed over your body when you looked back up and heard him laughing at you.
"Stop laughing! It's not funny," you protested, opting between smacking him or suffocating him when he didn't stop laughing. A pillow was right there and nobody would know it was you...but you shook the thought away and grabbed the pillow instead, throwing it at him.
He swatted it away, breathing heavily from laughing. "Alright, I'll stop, I'll stop." He shifted so he was sitting upright against the headboard. "Wanna give it another try?"
"Fuck no," you hissed, shaking your head and pointing and the tiny joint. "That's a whole murder weapon. I don't know how you do it."
"Your lungs are just weak, sweetheart."
"Sweetheart?" you blinked, caught off guard for a moment and flustered from his teasing.
"Well, I don't know your name so," he shrugged, taking another hit, blowing the smoke in your face and laughing when another round of coughs erupted from your lungs.
"You never asked for my name," you retorted, placing your chin on your knees. "Do you wanna know?"
"Is it necessary?" he questioned, lazily playing with the thin strands of hair sticking to his forehead. "How badly do you wanna tell me?"
"Not that badly. I don't really care," you shrugged.
"You just want me to keep calling you sweetheart. I can see right through you," he grinned widely, flashing his teeth at you. You pursed your lips, trying to keep them in a straight line before failing, breaking into a wide grin of your own.
"Maybe I do... so what?" you lowered your voice suggestively, feeling the failed attempt at hitting a joint float through your system, your body and mind feeling lighter by the second. "Besides, you never told me your name."
His tongue traced the edge of his lips, distracted by the way your eyes were staring at him, full of lust. You took the opportunity to lower your gaze to his mouth, wondering if it tasted as good as it looked. You saw his eyes follow your path and wonder crept in when he stared intently at you.
"C'mere," he whispered, beckoning you over. . When you leaned in close enough, your nose brushed his, sending sparks through your entire body. You instinctively pulled away when he whispered his name into your ear.
"Nice name," you responded, searching his eyes and staring deep into them. He was leaning in slowly, his lips touching yours before stopping just short, creating a confusing mix of emotions within your body.
A fire burnt somewhere in the pit of your stomach as all you could think was his lips against yours. You gripped his shirt tightly in your fists and closed the gap between you, pressing your lips firmly against his. When he felt your lips part, his tongue swept in, running along the edges of your mouth.
Your fingers dug into the sheets when his arm traced down your side, resting against your hip. A low moan rumbled from your chest as you tilted your head to the side, accepting the gracious slide of his lips against yours.
He pulled away after a moment, resting his forehead against yours. He stroked his thumb across your cheek before dragging it down to your lips, wiping the wetness away before leaving his hand splayed on your cheek, forcing you to lift your head up and meet his gaze.
"You gonna tell me your name now?" he demanded, staring directly into your eyes.
You parted your lips to speak before the door burst open and a very worried Shion stumbled through. "What the hell?! Why didn't you tell me you were in here! I thought you died or something!" His words were slurred, the alcohol he'd been drinking kicking into full gear as he did a dramatic double take at the sight of you and Ran on his bed. You were sitting next to him, your dress ridden up your thigh so high you might as well be naked. His eyes travelled up to your face, glaring at the grip Ran had on your cheek. "What the fuck are you doing?"
You pushed yourself away from Ran and fixed up your dress, clearing your throat. "Nothing."
His eyes narrowed and he stepped towards you, gripping your face until you looked up at him. Your eyes were slightly red and he frowned. "...you're high."
"Nah," you scoffed, swatting his hand away. "I'm not."
Shion ignored you and directed his glare over at Ran who was watching the situation with an amused smirk on his face. Shion grabbed onto your arm and helped you slide off the bed and fix your clothes. "Come on I'll get Mira to drive you home."
"Okay," you hummed, turning around to wave at Ran before waiting outside the door.
Shion turned to look at his friend and scowled. "There's hundreds of girls in this house. Sleep with any of them. I don't care, just not her. That’s my fucking friend, okay?"
Before Ran could respond, Shion already turned around and slammed the door behind him.
PRESENT DAY—2015
The entire drive from the airport to your brother’s house was filled with anticipation and silence. Your leg bounced restlessly, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you looked out the window. A familiar feeling of nostalgia washed over your body and reminded you of the last eight years you spent away from this place. Studying abroad was not easy, but definitely worth it. Without the distractions, family drama, (ex) boyfriend drama, you were able to focus on yourself for once, and put your own needs and interests first. You were able to meet new people every day, able to properly form new relationships in university without the fear of people judging you for the mistakes you made in high school. One thing about the neighbourhood you grew up in was that it was a tight-knit community. Everybody was well acquainted with everyone, meaning any gossip or secrets spread around like wildfire. One small mistake and everybody knew within a week. 
Pushing the unpleasant memories aside, it was still good to be back home.
“We’re here,” the driver announced, parking his car outside your brother’s house. His voice snapped you out of your haze, blinking yourself back to reality. The driver was looking back at you, smiling.
“Oh! Thank you so much,” you said heartily, digging in your pockets for your change. You handed it to him and thanked him once more before sliding out of the car. 
Grabbing your suitcase, you took in a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the butload of questions your brother will ask you for disappearing randomly for eight years. Your fist hesitates before knocking on the door, biting your lip when you hear the tv inside pause, then a flurry of footsteps.
The door opened and for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other. He’s blinking rapidly, probably busy trying to distinguish the difference between reality and delusion.
“Hi Hiro,” you decided to speak first, worrying your lip between your teeth as you waited for him to say something.
“No,” he shook his head, backing away from the door. “No this isn’t real.”
“It’s real, I’m back.” You smiled, letting go of your suitcase to hold your arms open. Your heart warmed when he pulled you in for a hug, gently swaying you side to side as he took a moment to drink this information in. You don’t blame him for being this tongue-tied, if anything it’s a positive reaction when you were prepared for yelling and arguments. 
“Holy shit, I missed you so much,” he spoke into your shoulder, fighting back from lifting you off the floor. He pulled away and looked at your face again, squishing his hands against your cheeks just to make sure once again he wasn’t hallucinating. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?! I was so worried!”
He finally let you go and stepped aside as you wheeled your suitcase in.
“I was nervous. I thought everybody hated me for leaving,” you admitted, looking guiltily down at the ground. 
“Yeah, that was so uncool,” he responded and you felt a wave of remorse flush through your body. “I just woke up one night to a million calls from Mom telling me you left the country. I didn’t even get to say goodbye, man.”
“I know, Hiro. It was a stupid mistake. I just…” you paused, melancholy flickering on your face, then looked up at him staring you down with a soft look on his face. He knew you were going through a lot back then, but due to your obsession of keeping your personal life a little too personal, he was unable to know anything about you until it was too late and you were already gone. 
You took a moment to take a deep breath, voice shaky as you continued, “I got into an argument with someone, then I fell out with Mira not even an hour later and I just lost it that night. So I checked my emails and saw that University abroad, the one I applied to as a joke, actually accepted me. So I just said fuck it and left. Obviously I regretted it but it was too late for me to go back with the limited money I had, so…yeah.”
“Who did you argue with…?” he asked, fiddling with his hands anxiously. “Who was it?”
You wiped a stray tear that slipped from your eyes and faked a smile, speaking through a watery laugh. “I’d rather not discuss this right now. How have you been?” 
Hiro frowned, disappointed you still didn’t trust anybody enough to talk to them about stuff that’s clearly bothering you, but sighed all the same. “It’s good, man. I got into university too. In my second year right now.”
“Oh my god, which school?” you asked, stepping aside as he carried your suitcase further into the house. “Wait, no. What do you study?”
“I study Computer Science, obviously.”
“Oh yeah. I forgot you were a nerd,” you fake grimaced, laughing when he muttered for you to shut up. “Are you at the top of your class? You always liked computers and…hacking and stuff.”
“Should’ve hacked into that airplane and turned it back around.”
“Yeah, wish you would’ve too,” you sighed, flopping down on the couch. The leather sunk in when you sat, and you inhaled sharply, closing your eyes and taking in the familiar scent of your childhood home. 
Looking around now, the house was fairly empty and dull. It was like the aura had changed, now eerily and dreary. “Hey, Hiro,” you called out to your brother in the kitchen, the sounds of plates being brought out of cabinets comforting you. “Where’s ma? I tried to reach her when I landed but her phone went straight to voicemail.”
“Oh about that…” He stilled for a moment, and you froze, unlike the sound of his tone. 
“...Hiro..?”
There was a sound of footsteps as he walked back into the living room, leaning against the door and folded his arms over his chest. “She’s back in rehab.” A scowl crossed his face and he cursed under his breath. “She’s been in and out for the last eight years but I haven’t been speaking to her like that.”
“Are you kidding me?” You sat upright, frowning. “When? Why? How?”
He waved his hand flippantly. “I don’t know. Don’t care either. She can rot inside that damn building for all I care. Anyway, you hungry?”
“Yeah. Plane food sucks ass.” The two of you grinned at each other as he ran upstairs to grab a Chinese food pamphlet. The doorbell rang and you sat up to open the door, thanking the delivery man for handing you a letter. When Hiro came back down, you handed him the letter, urging him to open it.
“You’re so nosy,” he complained, tossing the pamphlet at you along with his phone. “Oh shit.”
“What?” you responded, scrolling through the menu.
“My friend’s getting married in two weeks. They’re inviting to come.”
“Ooh, what friend?” you ask, curiously, mentally deciding between the spring rolls and the chow mein. “Are they nice?”
“Yeah, her name is Hinata Tachibana. She’s really nice.”
“You both in the same class?”
“Nah,” he shook his head. “I’m friends with her boyfriend’s friend. So when we hang out, I see her sometimes. I’m not really close with her though, so I’m confused why I’m invited.” He slumped against the couch, deep in thought. 
“Don’t think about it too much. Just go, eat loads of cake and have fun. You deserve it.”
“Thanks,” he smiled, picking at his nails before sliding his eyes in your direction. “Do you wanna come? It’s been a while since you’ve been back so I assume you have no friends.”
“Damn. Straight in the heart, huh?”
He grinned and looked down at the couch. “I didn’t mean it like that…”
“I know what you meant, don’t worry. But you’re right though.” Your shoulders slumped down as you pinched your lips together. “I’m too scared to contact any of my friends right now.”
“Understandable. So, you wanna come?”
You thought about it for a moment before agreeing. It wouldn’t be that bad. You spent the last year perfecting and moulding yourself into a more social being, no longer that super awkward antsy pushover teenage girl that went along with anything anyone said because you were too scared that they’d dislike you.
The food came twenty minutes later and you spent the next hour or two eating and laughing with your brother whilst watching shitty movies on Netflix. Words couldn’t explain how much you missed him, how much you missed your old home, your old life. Though your phone was dry, no new notifications, nobody to text or call, just being at home with your brother was enough for you. 
The next day on your way down to the kitchen to grab some water, the doorbell rang. On the list of people you were initially hoping you’d run into eventually, versus the list of people you planned to avoid like the plague, Shion happened to fit in the middle of both of them.
You stared dumbfounded at him, watching his eyes widen as he mumbled, “You’re actually back…”
You swallowed a lump in your throat, your question along the lines of, “How’d you know,” being interrupted as he stepped forward, sweeping you in his arms. Your body felt like it was suffocating, your poor bottle of water twisting and spilling onto the floor as your fist enclosed it. 
He fought back on the urge to pick you off the floor, wanting to keep things as friendly as possible, for now… before stepping away, planting his hands by his side. He blinked at you again, you blinked back, the both of you just waiting to say something other than hey…
Your brother came down the stairs just in time and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. “Dude. When I said she was back I didn’t expect you to come over right away,” he grinned at Shion, thus momentarily snapping him out from his daze.
He was hesitant to look away from the face he’s missed for over eight years and it took him a second before gathering his wits, his mind slowly coming back from its spiralling haze to respond. “I had to see it for myself. I still don’t believe this.”
You swatted his hand away when he reached out to poke your cheek. “I’m not a ghost.”
“I know. I know. It’s just—wow. You look good.” He forced an awkward smile at you. His words, to those that don’t know the context of your relationship, seemed innocent enough; your brother seemed to be pleased with the compliment, happy that he wasn’t here to lash out at you for leaving. But to you, your heart skipped a beat in your chest as you remembered the last incident between you two before you left. 
For a split second, you swore you could feel his hands again as they ran down your sides, could feel how strong his shoulders were as you gripped onto them with everything you had. 
Shion could tell you were thinking of the same memory and gave you a crooked smirk as you were unable to retreat your eyes from his face. 
“Why is it so awkward…?” Hiro broke the awkward silence and you cleared your throat.
“Nothing. Shion come in.” You stepped out of the way to let him inside.
“Nah, nah I can’t. I just came by to see if it was true. I gotta go to work.” Your face fell at the news and a flash of guilt crossed him momentarily. “But I’ll come see you later tonight. I promise.”
“Okay,” you whispered back, giving him a long searching look in his eyes. His breath stuttered for a short moment, his hand just aching to reach out and touch your cheek but the presence of your brother held him back. 
Shion left with a wave not long later and you shut the door, pressing a hand over your heart and fighting the urge to bang your head against the door. 
“Did you both hook up or what?” Hiro asked as he opened the fridge door.
“Sorry, what?”
“You’re both awkward as shit and you look embarrassed right now.” He reached for the milk at the back of the fridge door and stepped over to the cabinet to grab a bowl.
“I’m embarrassed because I don’t want to talk about the topic of sex right now with my younger brother.”
“It’s not a big deal. I slept with your friend once,” he said casually, pouring his milk into the bowl, and you cringed when you saw him pour the cereal last. 
His words took a minute to sink in. “Excuse me, WHAT?!”
He took a spoonful of cereal and shrugged. “What’s the big deal?”
“Which friend? Hello?! When was this?! Why—oh my god ew.”
He frowned at you. “I’m not repulsive. Chill out.” He took another spoonful and wiped some milk spilling past his lips. “It was Dona.”
“Dona—” you paused for a moment. “When was this?”
“I dunno…like two years ago? Or like three? To be frank, I lost track of time years ago. Could’ve been last week for all I know.”
You shuddered at the thought of your old friend with your brother, but pushed that sick image away from your mind. “Have you spoken to her recently?”
“Yeah. We talk from time to time. Why? Don’t want me to tell her you’re back?”
“I’d appreciate that. Thank you, Hiro.” He nodded in your direction then refocused his gaze back onto his cereal. “Now if you excuse me, I’m going to wash away that mental image from my head.”
“Oh whatever.”
 ~*~
Weddings in all honesty weren’t something you truly cared about. It was bizarre, growing up and seeing all this talk about getting married to the ‘one’ and spending the rest of your life with them. Sure, for some couples it was a main goal they wanted to achieve, but with you, it wasn’t something you truly cared about. Women would freak out that their time was soon coming to an end because they weren’t married and still didn’t find the right man. But truthfully, how did someone know who was the right man? Is there some sort of criteria box to tick off? Nobody actually knows someone from the get go, and you can hide your true self for years so it truly doesn’t matter how well you think you know someone, you will never know if they were the right one. 
That all changed when you met Haitani Ran though. He was the right one for you. If someone asked you how you knew, you’d have to tell them you don’t know. It was more of a gut feeling. That lonesome feeling you got in your gut whenever you were away from him. That feeling could just be anxiety, scared he might not come back home alive doing what he does. But he reassured you time and time again that he would be okay. That he’s fine and doesn’t need you worrying. It was a natural instinct to worry. Especially with the countless times you had to help clean his cuts, bruises, and scratches on his pretty face. 
That feeling you got was indescribable. Being with and around him changed you for better and for worse. He made you truly understand what it was like to love someone no matter how toxic it may have been. But he also managed to bring out your worst, the side that you wanted to shove down and stomp on before you left the country. 
Being back now, you feel that side of you inside just chilling down there, as if waiting for the right moment to come out. It’d been successfully tamed for eight years, so the shackles were tight and it was properly chained up, and you hoped that you wouldn’t love someone else like him, hoped that nobody else managed to bring out that side of you again. 
Standing here in this chapel right now as you watched Hiro congratulate his friend Hina and her now husband Takemichi on their new marriage, you couldn’t help but wonder just how perfect their relationship was. If they had brought out any bad sides in the other and had to take month long breaks in order to piece themselves back together.
The wedding photos make them seem happy enough, and you even shed a tear despite not knowing who any of these people are. They just seemed so…perfect. The perfect bride and groom. The perfect couple. 
It was…revolting. Seeing them so happy and smiling constantly made you sick to your stomach. It wasn’t fucking fair that they managed to find each other, find the ‘one’ on their first try without any hardships to come between them. Guaranteed you were purely projecting, and you were aware of that, but still. It was better to assume given all the pictures you saw in the photo album of them still dating when they were 14 years old.
You couldn’t properly enjoy the wedding without tearing up slightly, wondering just what went wrong in your life that made you such a bitter human being. These people were happy to enjoy a new stage in their life and you were just being a sulking mess in the corner of the room, wishing bad on everybody as they smiled. 
Seeing everyone happy with their friends, dancing, smiling, drinking, it made you jealous. The only friends you have in your life right now are your brother (if that can even count) and Shion. The loneliness never sunk in more at this point. Seeing the crowds of people in this wedding having fun…you never felt more alone in that moment.
Your mind travelled back to when you had friends, were stable in your life, had a boyfriend, and most importantly you were happy. Before you fucked it all up when you struggled on balancing all four. 
JANUARY 2006
You grabbed your lunch tray and practically bounced over to your friends table, blinded by delight to notice the way Mira and Dona were shifting in their seats, uncomfortable with your presence. 
“Hey guys!” You sat down on the bench in front of them, a wide smile on your face. 
Mira mirrored your smile, mumbling a hey back as she poked her food with her fork. Dona didn’t bother to cast you a smile, instead choosing to frown and roll her eyes.
Sensing some sort of tension, you swallowed awkwardly. “What’s up? How’ve you guys been?”
“Fine,” Dona responded sharply.
You deflated slightly, mood turning damp. “Why’re you acting so weird?”
Mira peeked over at Dona with a worried expression. Dona was never good at hiding her emotions, always being an open book unlike Mira who mastered the art of acting happy even when she wasn’t. In that moment though, you could tell that you were clearly missing out on something because the distance between your trio had never been further. 
“We didn’t hear from you for the whole holiday. We just missed you, that’s all,” Mira spoke carefully, watching your expression attentively.
Oh. So that’s what this is about. You scratched your neck, lightly dragging your nails along the skin. “Yeah…about that. I’m sorry, I was busy. You see Ran took me—”
“Of course he did,” Dona interrupted, practically spitting the words out. 
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Dona?”
“Nothing.” She put her fork down on her tray and looked at you for the first time today. Her eyes were sharp, the irritation practically radiating off her as she continued speaking. “It’s just that he’s literally all you fucking talk about now and frankly it’s getting annoying.”
“I’m sorry,” you blinked, getting yourself ready for defence mode. “Weren’t you the one who was pressuring me to pursue him? I was the one hesitant to talk to him but YOU wanted me to start dating him.”
“Yeah but it doesn’t mean you should be acting like this! Abandoning your friends for WEEKS without a single word!” Dona’s voice was getting higher to the point that it started to gather people’s attention from other tables. Mira wanted to sink into a puddle on the floor when people started staring, praying silently that you both would keep the volume down, but then Dona continued, eyes practically flashing red. “You didn’t even go home! The entire holiday! Your mother was worried sick!”
You scoffed. “Who gives a fuck what she thinks.”
Dona paused, her mouth open and her eyes wide. “What the hell happened to you?” The two of you stared at each other for a moment and you both couldn’t recognise each other. Mira desperately wanted to intervene, ask you both to keep your voices down and stop attracting attention but whenever she opened her mouth, Dona continued. “You know she started drinking again right?”
You stiffened and Mira noticed. 
“Dona, stop,” Mira whispered, looking over to her friend desperately. “Now’s not the time.”
“Nah,” Dona shook her head. “I’m tired of her shit. She needs to hear this.” Her volume started to rise again. “You hear that, (Name). Your mother started drinking again. Because of you.”
“How do you know?”
“My mother goes to the same AA meeting as her. She was there. She heard all the stories your mother said during those meetings and told me.”
There was a moment where a look of shock flashed over your face, but Dona wasn’t having it. “Oh, don’t look surprised. I don’t know what was going through your head to think stumbling in the house drunk at 3AM was a good idea. You thought she wouldn’t notice? Or what about that tattoo you got on your stomach that you also thought she wouldn’t notice? You think this is the kind of stuff your mother wants to see from her daughter? Not even a year ago you were acting normal, going to school ON TIME, getting perfect grades. What the fuck happened to you?”
You stood up abruptly, slamming your hands down onto the table with a loud slam that definitely caught the attention of everyone in the room this time. Mira wanted to explode. 
“I’m not gonna sit here and let you talk about my mother like she was a saint. In those dumbass AA meetings, did she ever discuss the ugly parts of herself or only sit there and bad mouth me? Hm?”
Dona swallowed harshly, arms crossed over her chest. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh so I’m guessing she didn’t. Let me update you then.” You brought your finger out and started counting. “Let’s discuss the fact she thought it would be a great idea to bring over different guys at the SAME TIME and sleep with them on the goddamn couch when I was trying to sleep upstairs. Did you think my thirteen year old self wanted to see that? Or my brother? Or, oh yeah this is a good one,” you brought your second finger up, “the time I had to drag her unconscious body up the stairs and help her bathe because she decided to drink herself half to death that night? Or the fact she passed out on the sofa, blacked out for DAYS and I had to sit there and cry next to her because I thought she died? My whole goddamn life was dedicated to taking care of HER. Now I finally want my own fun and go off the rails one time, that’s enough to send her spiralling and crying to her alcoholic friends? How the fuck do you think I feel?!”
You finished ranting and clenched your jaw as you waited for Dona to continue talking. She had so much to say about a situation she knew nothing about. Now everybody knew your dirty business because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Embarrassed, you dropped back down to the bench and began stabbing at your food with your fork, pretending the chicken was Dona’s fucking head.
Mira cleared her throat, the sound echoing in the silence of the cafeteria. “I’m sorry that happened to you. I really didn’t know.”
“Yeah well there’s a lot of shit you don’t know,” you responded harshly.
Dona swallowed heavily and fiddled with her fingers under the table. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want your fucking pity.” You stood up abruptly, grabbing your tray. “And maybe shut your fucking mouth and stop speaking on shit that doesn’t concern you.”
“But Dona was just looking out for you,” Mira started.
“Looking out for me, how?! By bringing up my mother in an attempt to catch me off guard and make me feel guilty? Or basically call me a bitch and a useless friend.”
Dona stood up also, pointing her finger in your face. “Maybe stop acting like both and you won’t get called that.”
“You know what. Fuck you both. I’m done. Consider me gone.”
“Yeah, it’s not like we aren’t used to you being gone anyway,” Dona muttered under her breath. 
You shook your head, glaring at the both of them once more before dumping your food in the bin and storming out the room. The doors slammed loudly and everyone’s eyes were back on that table. Mira felt like there had been a spotlight shining on them the entire time.
Dona slumped back down to the bench and stabbed viciously at her food. “Fuck her. She’s so fucking damaged, I can’t deal with that right now.”
Mira frowned. “Don’t talk about her like that. She’s clearly going through stuff. You’re just saying this to cope with the fact she chose a boy over us.”
“I’m not coping with anything. She can go fuck off with Ran, I don’t care.”
Mira touched her friend's arm gently, trying to soothe down her anger. “She will be back. The second things turns out rough with Ran. I promise you that.”
PRESENT DAY
“(Name), is that you?” A soft voice called out from behind you. You froze, wondering who on earth at this wedding might possibly know you.
Turning around, you met the familiar eyes of Mira who looked at you confused for a moment, then widening her eyes before dragging you in for a hug. “Oh my god. I missed you so much.”
You raised your hand awkwardly, unsure what to say, what to do to her. You haven’t spoken to her since that fight in the cafeteria and that was months before you left the country. “...Hi…” you settled on that, mentally slapping yourself for not showing more emotion.
She pulled away and dried her eyes, wiping them with her sleeve. “I honestly didn’t expect to see you…ever again. This is…woah.”
“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, shifting awkwardly on your feet. “Neither did I. Also, what are you doing here…?” While she was wiping her face, you caught a glimpse of the ring on her finger and grabbed her hand. “No way.”
“Yes way. I’m engaged!”
“What the hell?! I’m so happy for you, Mira,” you said with a smile on her face, watching her go red at the mention of her fiance. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
“He’s on the police force. His name is Naoto. He’s actually related to the bride, Hina. You know her?”
You shook your head. “No. I’m here because Hiro wanted to get me out of the house but I’ve been out of place since I arrived.”
“I don’t blame you. I also feel a bit out of place, being here as a plus one too.”
“Oh, that sucks…” you said softly, chewing the inside of your cheek thinking what to say next. A comfortable silence fell over the both of you, which was expected. Eight years of no contact, this was sure to happen. “So…how’s Dona?”
“She’s…er…to be honest, I don’t know. We stopped speaking shortly after you left the country.”
“Oh,” you deflated. “Why? I wasn’t holding you guys back anymore.”
“It’s a long story.” A man approached Mira from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her backwards for a hug to whisper in her ear. Must be the fiance. “Really?” she mumbled to him, craning her neck in order to hear him a little better. “Are you sure he’s going to be there?” Naoto nodded.
As the two of them spoke, you couldn’t help but feel a little jealous at how secure they seemed to be in their relationship. They were cute, and looked good together.
She turned around and grabbed his hand. “Can I bring my friend? I want to catch up with her.”
At that moment, Naoto seemed to just notice your presence. His black eyes met yours and you felt a tremor race through your body for some reason. He nodded at you and you bowed slightly, fiddling with your fingers as the two of them continued to whisper to each other. 
“Okay, baby.” Mira planted a kiss to his cheek and he smiled, returning the kiss to her lips before walking away. Mira approached you slowly. “Want to come to this party with us? Naoto has business there and is meeting someone so I’m coming with him.” When you looked hesitant, she pleaded. “Please? I really miss you and I want to talk to you more.”
A voice in your head was telling you to just suck it up and go. You’re not in a position to lose any friends right now. “Okay, fine. I’ll go.”
At the after party, you ended up spending majority of the night with Mira and with the influence of alcohol, the conversations flew smoother, the both of you slowly getting back in touch with each other. She told you about how law school almost ate and swallowed her whole, and you told her all about living abroad in a dorm campus and how homesick you felt sometimes. Eventually during the night, Naoto joined the conversation and you found out more about him and his job at the police force. With the help of Mira’s big drunken mouth, she accidentally mentioned a special super top secret case his division was working on called Bonten and how one of the executives is apparently going to be here tonight, and he quickly slapped a hand over her mouth, laughing awkwardly and her eyes widened when she realised.
“Oh my god Naoto I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say that,” she was almost crying out of frustration and Naoto spared a pity glance in your direction.
“Sorry about her, she gets very emotional when she's drunk.”
You nodded, muttering it’s okay and watched him whisk her away from the table. You were unsure why he reacted that way. It wasn’t like you knew anything about Bonten or whatever that’s supposed to mean. Without the presence of Mira, you began to feel overwhelmed in this big room with nobody to talk to, the alcohol in your system making your brain go fuzzy.
The room started to get too hot and you were beginning to feel beads of sweat begin forming on your forehead. Standing up, you grabbed your bag and went out through the back, grabbing a metal doorstop and placing it on the door. You sat on the staircase outside, taking in the night time view outside, the beautiful way the street lights lit up the streets and the sounds of cars passing by did wonders to your hazy mind. 
“Ain’tcha cold?” 
It took you a moment, too preoccupied with breathing in the fresh air outside that you failed to notice the presence of a man behind you. You turned around and looked up at a tall man, a black shadow casting over his face and body making it hard to see him clearly. He leaned against the wall, holding the metal door open with his foot, arms crossed over his chest and curled an eyebrow up at you, waiting for you to answer.
“I mean, kinda? But I don’t care,” you turned back to face the front and fiddled with your phone on your lap. “I’ve experienced worse.”
“Hm,” he hummed and lifted himself from the wall, taking a couple steps forward. He sat down next to you on the stairs and you got a whiff of his expensive cologne from the action. His body next to yours was overwhelming, and your shoulders nearly touched. “Do you remember me?” he asked a couple seconds later.
You turned to look at him for a split second then shook your head. He let out a short chuckle. “C’mon try harder. Dig deeper.”
With a word heavy sigh, you turned to look at him again. The first thing you noticed was he was attractive. His sharp jawline caught your attention first, his tattoo next. Then you met his eyes. Those goddamn eyes that no amount of alcohol could make you forget. You blinked for a couple moments, the movement slow as you tried to regain control over your muscles. “No way.”
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sleepynoons · 3 months ago
Text
In Another Life
You get unjustly kidnapped by Bonten because your ex-boss fucking sucks. Ran saves your ass but leaves Sanzu with the responsibility of watching over you. All you want is to be alive and happy with your child. But does Sanzu even care about protecting you? And if he does, do you… care about him? What happens if he wants to become a part of your family?
Will you let him into your life?
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bonten!sanzu x afab!f!reader, nsfw, 18+
word count: ~9,600
cw: manga spoilers, single parenting/single parent!au, explicit language, suggestive content, depictions of violence/pain/injuries/drugs/alcohol/etc., mentions of domestic violence + abusive relationships, hurt/no comfort
notes: lmk if i missed anything in the warnings. cross-posted on ao3. this story means a lot to me, i hope you'll give it a try.
edit: tysm for 100+ notes y'all are making me cry, really appreciate all the support <333
SANZU LEAVES the bakery with a few bags of dorayaki tucked underneath his arm. He’s running ahead of schedule – he still has half an hour before Mikey expects him –, so he meanders through Tokyo's network of dark alleyways and hidden shortcuts.
He walks and walks and walks, letting his feet guide him wherever. He’s been working in the streets for long enough. He’ll know how to find his way back to Bonten’s headquarters no matter where he ends up.
He makes a left turn, a sharp right, two more left turns, until he hears the buzz of a nearby shopping district. He follows the sounds of people hustling about and finds a narrow path between two shops to slip through. He can see people walking by at the end of the path, but he doesn’t enter the busy streets, opting to observe and watch the crowds fluctuate instead.
And then he sees you. Clad in a flowing beige dress with a white t-shirt layered underneath, you’re staring off into the distance as the wind ruffles your hair. You’re laughing at something or someone, but as he tries to get a better look at you, a rush of shoppers streams past and blocks his view.
He slips a cigarette out of his back pocket, lights it, and breathes out a puff of smoke as he chuckles. When he glances back into the crowd, you’re gone. He turns around to retrace his haphazard path. Mikey likes his dorayaki warm.
Two weeks later, when Mikey’s supply of dorayaki has dwindled to a dangerous low, Sanzu returns to the usual bakery, accompanied by Ran this time.
The two are close colleagues, though Sanzu thinks “close” is too intimate of a description. Sanzu likes to keep people at arm's length away. Close enough to build cohesive, mechanical teamwork but not enough to skip pleasantries and create personal connections.
Sanzu is outside of the bakery, scrolling through his phone and tapping his foot as he waits for Ran. The latter always liked taking his time, and Sanzu’s patience was wearing thin. Luckily, his colleague walks out a few moments later. Sanzu is about to shoot a snarky comment when he notices that Ran is conversing with a woman.
It takes a few moments for Sanzu to remember who you are.
“Sanzu!” Ran calls happily. “Can you unlock the car?” Sanzu rolls his eyes before he slips the car keys out of his pocket. “Oh, and let me introduce you!”
You bow, offering your name and a few compliments to Sanzu’s suit. You wear a neat smile as you wait for his response. Sanzu, too, says his name and a brief “thank you,” all while avoiding eye contact.
Ran continues, “She goes to this shop regularly, as well. I wonder why we’ve never met before.” You nod in agreement before dismissing yourself, bidding the two a good rest of their day.
As Sanzu and Ran drive back to headquarters, Ran asks, “You know her?”
Sanzu groans before curtly responding, “No.” Ran hums, a smirk tugging at his lips, but does not press his pink-haired colleague any further.
It’s not like Sanzu was lying. He didn’t know you. He just saw you sometimes, and neither of you bothered to say anything when you did see each other.
However, after this interaction, you and Sanzu begin to cross paths frequently, always at the bakery every other Saturday at 8 AM sharp, when the dorayaki are almost out of the oven and the toasted pastries are being shelved.
Sanzu notices the pastries, such as the mango croissants and berry-filled sandwiches, because he always lets you order at the counter first. You always buy a lot. You carry at least two bags of food home, yet you never struggle with the weight.
He also notes the smooth lilt of your voice when you speak with the bakers. You seem to know the staff well, and he finds himself entranced by the highs and lows of your giggles, sassy retorts, and sincere praise.
You speak in the same sweet manner with him, which initially surprised him until he remembered that you aren’t aware of his occupation or lack of a moral compass. Although your exchanges are limited to questions of “How are you?” and “Any plans for today?”, he finds himself relaxing and basking in the casual nature of your exchanges. Usually, he replies to strangers with one or two words, but he comes to appreciate your lighthearted aura and matches the flow of the conversation.
And when the two of you part ways, you always say goodbye with a full smile, and with a few waves of your hand, you cross the street and disappear from his line of vision.
But Sanzu is not a consistent man (aside from his unwavering loyalty to Mikey), and his routines are often disrupted or forgotten. So when Sanzu finds you in one of Bonten’s warehouses, he mentally chides himself for being caught off guard. He switches gears and replaces his agitation with doubt and suspicion.
“What’s going on?” Sanzu asks Takeomi. His older brother huffs out a puff of smoke while handing him a thin laminated folder of photos and information.
As Sanzu flips through the documents, Takeomi speaks. “A client tried to rat us out. We captured a few of his employees to see if anyone knows anything.”
Sanzu hands the folder back before redirecting his gaze onto the kneeling employees. There are five in total – some of them shivering from the cold, others frightened still, all duct taped across the mouth. He narrows in on you for a second, observing the creases in your forehead and the tears that slip down your cheeks. His hands twitch.
“Did we get anything yet?” Sanzu asks again.
“Nothing so far. It’s a shame that we’ll have to kill them off,” Takeomi replies, though there’s very little remorse in his voice. It can’t be helped, Sanzu thinks, but he feels disappointment course through his body. He ponders on a compromise but drops the idea. Work is work, and you are no exception to Bonten’s procedures. All witnesses had to be killed, and Sanzu is not one to disobey Mikey’s orders.
But not all of the executives are as stringent as he is. Ran and Rindou saunter into the warehouse, and of course, the older Haitani bursts out with a joyful greeting when he sees you. You startle at his presence, and Sanzu can tell your shock and disbelief when your eyes widen. If your mouth wasn’t forced shut, your jaw would’ve dropped open as well.
Ran walks over to you and begins to untie the ropes binding your wrists, knees, and ankles.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Takeomi yells. A few ashes from his cigarette drift to the floor.
“Can we keep this one?” Ran yells back. “I like them!” Takeomi only scowls, peering at Mikey’s back. After waiting for a few moments, Bonten’s leader doesn’t react, and Ran smiles gleefully. Sanzu releases a breath he doesn’t remember holding. He reminds himself to maintain professionalism again. However, the more he stares at you panting and heaving, the more overcome he is by an itching need to take you somewhere far, far away.
“No.” He blurts without thinking, surprising Ran and Takeomi.
“Uh, sorry?”
“No, we’re not keeping her.” Ran knows not to argue against Bonten’s No. 2, but he huffs and crosses his arms, a scowl on his face.
“Then what else can we do to make sure she doesn’t say anything if we can’t kill her?” Takeomi asks. Sanzu doesn’t have an answer.
After discussing with Mikey, Takeomi, and Kakucho, Sanzu is tasked with the responsibility of checking in on you every two days. You aren’t opposed to the idea – not that you have a choice –, and you are escorted home by Sanzu soon after being notified of your release.
During the drive home, Sanzu asks you questions, gathering information and noting interesting tidbits. You’re the same age as him, a simple employee of a large corporation with a corrupt Board of Directors, and, to his surprise, have a five-year-old daughter.
While Sanzu has acquired many skills fit for a criminal, negotiating and speaking tactfully has yet to be something he is capable of.
“And the father?”
You glance out the window. “Ran away.”
“Why?”
You shrug. He clicks his tongue.
“Can I ask a question, if you don’t mind?” you ask.
After a few seconds of silence, you continue, “What’s going to happen to my coworkers?”
“They’re dead.”
The rest of the ride is silent, as well as the walk up to the third floor of your apartment complex. Sanzu needed to know where you lived, and the easiest way was to escort you to your home. However, before you slip inside your room, you turn around to face him.
Sanzu freezes.
Your eyes are fierce, an icy flame burning in your eyes. Your pupils dilate, more color than white, and you glare at him for a few moments. Then, in a level – almost cold and condescending – voice, you say, “My daughter will be protected.” Sanzu swallows, surprised at your intensity, before nodding once. You smile at his affirmation, though it doesn’t reach your eyes, and bid him farewell.
As promised, Sanzu visits you every two days. Most of the time, he simply drops by in the morning before you leave for work and says a quick greeting. You usually rush to the door from the kitchen, wearing a black apron covered with flour and powdered sugar. On Saturdays, the two of you visit the bakery together.
“Where’s your kid?” he asked once.
“Oh, I sent her to daycare already.”
“Even on the weekends?”
“She used to only stay for the mornings, but now she stays until lunch.” Sanzu is about to inquire about the change before it clicks.
“I must be keeping you,” he mutters and rubs his nape. Sanzu rarely apologizes, even implicitly, but he’d never wish for a child to suffer from neglect as he did.
“No, no, not at all! My daughter loves the daycare and her friends there. Besides, I like our time together.” You pat his shoulder before wrapping your hands around one of his. “You make my Saturday mornings.”
The way you effortlessly say “together” and hold his hand baffles him. He’s part of a major yakuza group. He killed your coworkers. By pure association, you and your daughter would forever be in danger. Furthermore, even if Sanzu wasn’t a higher-up in Bonten, it’s not like he’s an upstanding individual with a healthy lifestyle.
Sanzu had his fair share of relationships, though they were all very noncommittal and ended as soon as he shot them in the head. It’s not like he wanted to kill them, but whenever he was caught on the couch doing drugs, they always threatened to report him, and he didn’t want to waste time behind bars. Besides, he never considered a single one of them as a lover.
While you showed a lack of shock or discomfort whenever he visited on his more… spent mornings, Sanzu knew you would be no different. Out of best interests of both of you, Sanzu knew he should keep his distance.
But that’s kind of hard to do when you see someone so often, and Sanzu doesn’t realize it until Mikey calls him over.
“Sanzu, what’s this?” Hand steadying the tsuka of his katana, Sanzu turns around and faces his boss, who is sitting behind an ebony wood desk. A brown paper bag dangles from Mikey’s fingertips.
“Is that not dorayaki?” Mikey pulls out a large cream puff covered in powdered sugar and condensed milk.
Sanzu’s eyes widen. His job is to follow Mikey’s orders as they are delivered. Providing excess was as shameful as underperforming.
“My apologies, I must have grabbed it by accident.”
“I never knew you liked sweets.”
I don’t, Sanzu thinks. But he sure as hell knows who does.
“Do you want me to get more dorayaki tomorrow?”
Mikey looks at the clock before he tosses the bag into Sanzu’s unexpecting hands.
“You’re done for tonight.” Sanzu’s heart weighs a ton, acting almost akin to a kicked puppy. He has strived for years to become his boss’ right-hand man, yet he has failed at one of his most basic, routine tasks. “And bring more of those cream puffs in the morning.” Sanzu nods, refusing to disappoint Mikey further, and leaves the office to head toward the garage.
In the driver’s seat, the executive pulls out his phone. It wouldn’t hurt to try, he thinks. He calls you. It rings for a few moments, but you eventually pick up with a soft “Sanzu?”.
“I’m heading over to your place,” and he’s backing out.
Sanzu’s not sure why he’s in a rush. Probably ‘cause of Mikey, he convinces himself. But he’s also aware of the time. It’s a little past midnight, so your kid’s probably asleep.
When he appears in front of your entrance, he doesn’t even need to ring the buzzer before you throw the door open.
“Is something wrong?!” You’re heaving, hair messy from sleep and blue-light glasses slipping from the arch of your nose.
“I should be asking you that,” Sanzu replies.
“You’re the one who called me and said that you were coming over with no context! Is something wrong?” Your cheeks are flushed with exasperation, and he can’t help but stare at you with slight amusement. Sanzu gestures to come in, and you scramble to get out of the way.
“Your kid,” he says as he takes off his shoes, “what’s her name again?”
“Chizu.” You’re really glaring at him now, with cheeks puffed out, and Sanzu thinks this entire situation is comedic. “Why are you asking me that?”
“You know, people would usually ask why before answering.” He takes another glance at your stiff figure before continuing. “Anyway, I accidentally bought a cream puff from the bakery this morning, and I remember you telling me once that Chizu enjoyed these.”
“That’s all?”
Sanzu hums in affirmation.
You relax, relieved that it isn’t an emergency and even a little touched that he remembered what you said. Before you can thank the pink-haired man, a door cracks open.
Your little girl whines. “Mommy, you’re loud.”
“Oh, sorry, sweetheart. I was just doing some paperwork in the kitchen. I’ll be more careful, alright?” You crouch down to embrace your daughter, but your shoulders aren’t wide enough to hide Chizu’s line of sight from Sanzu.
As a result, the little girl is wide awake. She wriggles out of your hug, darts under your open arms, and speeds toward the man.
“What’s your name?”
Sanzu looks at you, and you grimace with a weak apology. Sighing, he squats down and decides to indulge the little girl.
“My name is Haruchiyo. It’s nice to meet you, Chizu.” Your daughter gasps in delight, excited that this stranger already knows her.
“How do you know my name? Who told you?”
Sanzu chuckles at her awe. “Your mom always talks about you.”
“So you’re Mommy’s friend? I thought Mommy doesn’t have friends.” You cringe a little.
“Your mom is very proud of you, so be nicer to her, alright?” Sanzu tries to pat the little girl’s head but ruffles her hair instead. He then gets up and ambles toward the door.
Taking his cue, you also rise and shuffle towards the door. “It’s getting late, Chizu. Go back to bed.”
Before the two of you even notice, Chizu’s tugging at Sanzu’s slacks, little balls of fists wrinkling the fabric. “Haru, stay!” Sanzu struggles to hide his annoyed groan, and you struggle to convince your daughter to let go.
“Haru, stay! You’re Mommy’s friend, so you have to stay!” Chizu’s whining transforms into loud pleas, and when she gets this way, you know the only way to appease her is to give her what she wants.
“Haru…,” you mouth. “One night wouldn’t hurt, would it?”
Sanzu shoots you a deadpan look, and you return with a steady one.
Finally, he gives. Chizu’s sobs were grating his ears, and driving back to his cold and empty condo was just not worth the effort.
“Stop spoiling the brat,” he mutters through gritted teeth as the two of you lead Chizu back to her room.
You haven’t woken up next to someone in years. Chizu is already 5-years-old, meaning it has been almost six years since your ex-boyfriend left you.
It’s early, sometime between four and five in the morning. Sanzu is snoring next to you, and you’re extremely tempted to brush out his bangs. You’re unsure if your need to touch the man comes from a place of genuine attraction or of chronic loneliness. So you settle down and decide to admire him as you wait for sleep to take over once again. You notice that Sanzu looks like he’s in pain when he’s asleep.
Sanzu hasn’t woken up next to someone in years. He never let any of his previous girlfriends stay the night (probably another reason why they always wanted to break up).
It’s early, probably a little past seven. Much of his job and Bonten’s activities happened at night, so he usually would never wake up until afternoon the next day. He only wakes up at nine in the morning every other Saturday.
You’re sleeping on your side, one arm folded into your chest and the other draped over the blanket. He wonders how you’re breathing because half of your face is smothered into the pillow, but he doesn’t question it because you’re constantly exceeding his expectations. Sanzu feels the urge to get up and cover your dangling leg with more of the blanket. Yet he decides against it; jostling the bed might wake you up. So he waits for sleep to take over once again.
The next time the two of you meet is two days later in the lobby of your apartment complex. Sanzu spots you first and waits for you to notice him. You do a few moments later, after shuffling a crumpled folder into your shoulder bag. You manage a weak smile and try to smooth down the wrinkled front of your blazer as you shuffle over to his side.
You greet, “Late night?”
Sanzu snorts. “Always.” You wait. You’ve always thought Sanzu’s eyes are a gorgeous shade of blue, but you have a much clearer view as the man stares at you. It’s an electrifying, piercing blue – bright and almost neon. “The boss wants to see you.”
You choke. And barely manage to sputter, “Boss? You mean, your boss?”
“He wants to know how to bake bread.”
“Oh.”
Very normal. Your average neighborhood (and potentially national) yakuza boss wants to bake. Just another day.
Next thing you know, you’re in front of a large apartment building that screams elitism from the gold engravings on the steel fence to the three large cherub fountains in the center of the courtyard.
“This is where the boss stays most of the time.” As the two of you ride to the top floor of the complex, Sanzu explains to you that this entire section of the prefecture is owned by Bonten. Many of the executives live here or nearby for ease of communication, as Tokyo is the organization’s center of operations.
Given all of that information, you expected more… grandeur. There should have been dozens of guards, weapons out in plain moonlight, and security checks to prevent you from exposing Bonten.
As soon as the elevator door opens, Ran rushes over and waves enthusiastically. “Good to see you again!” he exclaims.
You wave in return and take his hand, following his lead as he guides you to the entrance of Mikey’s home. Sanzu trails behind the two of you, accompanied by another man who has the same tattoo as Ran.
“You know, I would’ve never expected the boss to be interested in cooking! Mikey is a disaster in the kitchen – actually, he’s horrible at housework in general. All of us executives have to clean up after him,” Ran says.
Again, you assumed Mikey’s home would be rich with glamor and sparkle. But the interior is quite minimalist, or rather, it’s empty. You try your best to listen to Ran, but your eyes wander around. From the entrance, aside from a leather couch and a glass dining table, there are no other decorations or items with sentimental value in sight.
Approaching the living room, you are faced with four more men. They offer stiff nods before glancing over at the hunched figure sitting in front of the kitchen island.
“Boss,” Sanzu calls.
No response.
Still nothing.
Not a word or move.
You suck in a breath. You speak in as steady of a voice as you can. “Thank you –”
You feel the second-in-command glare holes into you as he threatens, “Stop –”
“Let her finish.”
You glance at the figure. “Thank you for having me.” A few moments of silence pass, and you ask, “What kind of bread would you like to eat?”
“Mikey wants to bake,” Sanzu grits out through clenched teeth.
“I know.” You turn around and give him a stern glare before looking back at the boss. “But it’s important to make something you want to eat. Isn’t that the point?”
Mikey slides out of his chair. With bated breath, you watch as he meanders towards you, head bowed and hands tucked into his pant pockets.
“Cream puffs.” Mikey’s voice is quiet and low. Smooth but gravelly and rough whenever he finishes a sentence.
Cream puffs aren’t a type of bread, you think. But of course, you’d never say that out loud.
“Cream puffs sound wonderful.” You smile, even though you know Mikey can’t see you. “We should get started then.”
“Well,” Ran interrupts, “we don’t have any ingredients.”
You spin around. “We don’t have anything?”
Ran shakes his head.
“Sanzu.” You turn toward the pink-haired executive. “Do you think food appears out of thin air?”
“Huh? Of course not – What the actual –”
“I’ll text you a list of things we need. Go to the grocery store. Now.”
Sanzu spews confused curses and retorts at you as Ran laughs and drags him out of the apartment. The other executives trail behind, sharing an unspoken understanding that nothing will be accomplished unless they go, too.
Only you and Mikey remain. The latter stands in front of you as you text Sanzu ingredients. You even momentarily forget about the boss as you mutter under your breath and cross-check your list with other recipes.
Mikey watches. But Mikey has never been one to beat around the bush.
He says your name after you send the text.
“Yes?”
“You can be with Sanzu, as long as he prioritizes his work.”
Though you are confused, you opt to nod.
“Be prepared to lose him.”
Mikey pulls out his phone from another pocket and dials a number. “I’m going to sleep. Take her home.”
Throughout the rest of the evening, you repeat Mikey’s words over and over again in your head, flipping them inside out, bending them backward and forward. Mikey’s words are like a shiny coin. You examine the contents of its surface and circumference, searching for a deeper meaning - was there a secret message? a signal or nuance? - if it even existed.
I can’t lose him if I never had him, you think. It’s been a few months since that evening in the icy warehouse, and you’re acutely aware that Sanzu has eased his way into your life. You make his morning coffee (with no sugar and soy milk) along with yours, and during the times when he checks in on you at night, he stays in the car as you pick up your daughter. As a result, even Chizu has taken an extreme curiosity toward the man, and Sanzu has to stay over until the little girl falls asleep. Most of the time, Sanzu half-heartedly listens to Chizu’s chattering, but if he’s feeling generous (which you can tell when he lets your daughter cling onto him), he also reads her a bedtime story or two.
You realize: Losing Sanzu wouldn’t just hurt you – it would also damage Chizu, and she was already being bullied for having a single mother.
Recently, thinking about Chizu has left you feeling a little restless. Don’t get it twisted – you’re damn proud of yourself. You have a comfortable, plush home, enough nutritious food for three meals every day, and Chizu’s going to attend a well-established elementary school next year. You’ve done well, and you know some things are out of your control, but your accomplishments can’t always shield you from negativity and doubt. Sometimes, you think, it’d be nice if you had someone to lean on.
“What’s going on?” You notice that Sanzu’s fingers are tapping erratically on the steering wheel. He’s also glaring at the red light. “Well? Out with it,” he sneers.
“Chizu’s getting bullied.”
A vein appears on Sanzu’s temple, and you’re not sure if you should be more intrigued or scared by his reaction.
He curses and says, “Let me guess. The kids find it weird she doesn’t have a dad?” Your silence is all the affirmation he needs as the light turns green, and he makes the left turn to Chizu’s daycare.
When you buckle Chizu into her booster seat, Sanzu turns around.
“Kid.”
Chizu stops her chattering. “My name’s Chizu.”
“Squirt, if the other kids pick on you for only having a mom, tell them that you’re goddamn proud that she’s your mom, alright?” Chizu nods enthusiastically and pecks your cheek. “Also,” Sanzu continues, “just say that I’m your dad. That’ll shut ‘em up.”
“OK!”
You panic. You hurry back to your seat, and as Chizu babbles about her day, you look at Sanzu with concerned eyes. He gives you one unbothered side glance, and his eyes are trained back on the road.
The two of you don’t talk until a little past one in the morning. You finished up some last-minute tasks, and Chizu is in deep sleep. To avoid waking her up, though, you usher Sanzu into your bedroom, only leaving the door open by a crack just in case.
“Why did you tell Chizu you’re her dad?”
“To get the other brats to zip it.”
“Do you know what it means to be a dad?”
Sanzu thinks for a moment. “No, but at least I know what a dad shouldn’t be.”
You touch a hand to his cheek. “I see. You don’t have to explain if you…”
Sanzu’s lost in thought, deciding whether or not to tell you.
The man sighs. “I had a younger sister. Her name was Senju, and she was just as annoying and clingy as Chizu. We were raised by our older brother – you saw him at Mikey’s place, the man with the large facial scar. I hate to admit it, but when Senju was around, it felt like we were a family.
“Looking back, I think the reason why Senju was so needy was because our parents were never around. I don’t give a shit about trauma or whatever, but it makes sense. She just wanted someone to care for her. We didn’t get bullied for it, though, because our older brother would throw cigarette butts at whoever tried to, and besides, our neighborhood was full of broken families and kids. Chizu’s just a fucking loud twat, so she needs someone to defend her.
“I’m not saying you’re a shitty mom, but you’re busy. You can’t defend your kid if you’re nose-deep in work 24/7.”
“Sure,” you say. You choose your next words carefully. “But… how is a Bonten executive like you any different?”
“I’ll just be a big, scary dog. I’m not actually going to be Chizu’s dad.”
“That’s not what you told her, though.”
“Huh?”
“You told Chizu that you’ll be her dad. She’s going to think you’re going to stay around and act like the father figure she never had.” You reach out and pinch Sanzu’s arm. “Don’t go back on your word.”
Sanzu swats away your hand and, with a clenched jaw, acquiesces. “Fine.”
You’ve never been good with confrontation. Confrontation made you lose your ex-boyfriend and all the support from your family, and you were never really good at it anyway. If anything, you prefer time to wash all the tension away and resolve things. But the present issue is entirely new to you, and your impulse is split between wanting to scream your emotions at a plaster wall or burying them so deep that even you would eventually forget they existed.
It’s been two weeks since Sanzu declared himself as Chizu’s father. Since then, both of you have decided on rules and boundaries and resumed your daily routines. The only difference is that Sanzu spends all of his free time with you and your daughter, meaning he’s over more often. As a result, you’ve only become more and more aware of the Bonten executive, and you fear that you’re overexerting your heart.
There’s no way you could tell Sanzu what you’re experiencing. You’re worlds apart, you remind yourself. Despite your gentle chiding, the side of you that wants to confess and lay out everything to Sanzu only grows stronger with each passing day. So what do you do? How do you manage all the butterflies, goosebumps, and icy hot chills that appear at the mere thought of Sanzu?
You throw yourself into work.
It’s fall in Japan, which means job-hunting season. After very little consideration and hesitation, you go job-searching. Spending hours researching, revising your resume, and developing your portfolio were practical and easy ways to divert your attention, and after two months of cold-emailing and passing interviews, you land a stellar job as a marketing manager for an expanding restaurant chain.
Not only did you get to work a job that combined two of your main passions, but the paychecks are also heftier. That night, to celebrate the wonderful news, you crack open a can of beer as Chizu sleeps. Just a small reward, you think smugly.
“You drink?”
You glance at the door where Sanzu is untying his loafers as you chug down your second glass. You hum a little, which echoes inside the cup.
“Let me have some.” Before you can contest, Sanzu swipes the beer can and swallows the remaining liquid before letting out a relieved sigh. He then stalks to your fridge, pulls out four more cans, and sets them down at the dining table.
Usually, you would’ve snarled at anyone who touched your drinks. You rarely drink, so your stash is always limited to your favorites. With a shrug, you let Sanzu off - only because you’re in a good mood.
As you refill your glass, you ask, “You’re back early. Is something wrong?”
“None of your business.”
You’ve come to realize that when Sanzu says that, he doesn’t mean it in a rude manner. Taking it literally, he’s right. None of the work he does is legal or ethical, and hearing about the number of people he killed today would ruin your mood immediately.
“Why are you drinking?” he grunts.
You smirk before replying, “I got a new job. It’s also close to Chizu’s daycare, so we don’t have to rush to pick her up. If you can’t drive us, we can always fetch a cab home.” Sanzu mumbles something, but it’s muffled as he downs another large gulp.
At this point, both of you are a little tipsy. You giggle at Sanzu’s slurred stories of his middle school days, and he listens to you as you share memories of when Chizu was a toddler.
“You know,” he says, “you’re so much more different from what I imagined.”
“How so?”
“When I first saw you, I thought you were just this little pretty thing. You were wearing this white dress or whatever, and you were just standing there under the sunlight.” You have no idea what he’s talking about.
You feel a little more sober. “Are you… disappointed now that you’ve gotten to know me better?”
Sanzu perks up at your question and shakes his head from side to side, over and over again. You throw your head back and laugh. He’s adorable when he’s inebriated.
“I like independent women,” Sanzu says.
You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the fact that Sanzu isn’t looking you unabashedly in the eye like he normally does, but you slide to the edge of your seat and lean your head on his shoulder.
As expected, Sanzu tenses up and shoots you a hesitant glare. Somewhere in the back of your head, you know that you’re playing with fire, but you’ve given up on lying to yourself a long time ago. You like Sanzu, you want him, and all you need right now is closure.
Finally, you ask, “Do you like me?” You wait for Sanzu to shrug you off, to bark a clear rejection, and to leave your home. But a few moments pass, and the silence enables you to hear his shallow breaths. When he continues to remain still, you look up at him.
Instead of seeing a scowl, Sanzu’s face is flushed pink, and the tips of his ears are a cherry red.
“Sanzu?” you breathe.
Nothing.
“Don’t tell me that you’re so drunk that you have paralysis.”
You get out of your seat and head towards the bathroom to grab a warm towel. You pout as you wring the towel out. You were expecting a straightforward answer from Sanzu, but his lack of one is getting your hopes up.
When you return, Sanzu is slightly hunched over while he scrolls through his phone.
“Are you feeling better?” You approach the pink-haired man. He looks up, and you take this chance to hold his chin up with one hand and wipe his forehead with the other. Sanzu sits there, unmoving and basking in the warmth and gentleness of your hold.
Sanzu decides to act when you begin to retract your hands. He reaches for the wrist holding the wet towel and pulls you in until you’re standing between his legs.
“I do.” He speaks so calmly yet so confidently, and it takes you a few seconds to process.
A wave of relief, sadness, and adoration overwhelms you. You don’t realize you’re crying until you feel the rough pads of his fingers wipe at the corner of your eyes. You blubber an apology or two, but you only begin to sob harder. Still vigilant of Chizu, though, you attempt to muffle yourself by placing the towel over your mouth.
Sanzu pulls you onto his lap and continues to brush away your tears. His expression hasn’t changed, but it’s the most serious he’s ever looked in front of you, and that’s all it takes for you to break down and hand him the broken pieces of your heart.
You wake up with a gasp. You sit up, accidentally throwing off the arm that’s wrapped around your shoulders, and gulp deep breaths.
Sanzu wakes up, too, and groans unhappily.
“What are you doing?” he croaks. “Go back to bed.”
“I would -” You cough a little and rub at your throat. “I would if someone wouldn’t hold onto me for dear life.” You continue to gulp deep breaths before you lie back down. This time, Sanzu’s arm slips down and wraps itself around your waist, dispelling your disgruntled expression. He mumbles something along the lines of “Better now?”, and you nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck in return.
Sanzu yawns. “Is Chizu staying home today?”
“She has a sleepover tonight, so I’ll drop her off in the afternoon.” You’re falling back asleep so your voice trails off at the end of your sentence.
Sanzu is, too, but he manages to say, “I’m glad she’s having fun,” before he’s out like a light.
Because Chizu was out for the weekend, you spent your Saturday grocery shopping and deep cleaning the apartment. Sanzu was also busy with work, but he said he would be back at night.
Just the notion of the two of you being alone makes you nervous, and you slip a few times on the wet kitchen floor when you lose yourself in the thought. You’re excited and nervous, eager and yearning, but hesitant and self-conscious. A large part of Bonten’s operations occurred in underground nightclubs and bars, so Sanzu has seen his fair share of charming girls. You’ve never been insecure about your body, even after having Chizu, but the possibility that you can’t compete with Sanzu’s previous flings sends a nauseating ache to the pit of your stomach.
When Sanzu arrives just in time for dinner, the anxiety persists, but you’re grateful that he doesn’t seem to notice. In fact, Sanzu acts normal. He complains about his colleagues and the inflation of gas prices; he cusses and mutters colorful insults at the coffee table when he stubs his toe; and most importantly, he only touches you when you initiate.
That’s something you never expected from him, truth be told. Sanzu, though caring in his ways, is brutish. Demanding. While you hoped he wouldn’t take you by force, he hasn’t asked you for any physical affection, and you like to take pride in the fact that he treats you with unspoken respect. Only when you reach your arm out onto the dinner table does he hold his hand out to intertwine your fingers together. When you’re watching some comedy show on the bed, he ruffles your hair when you poke his shoulder. Even after kissing him, he simply holds your hip before letting you go as you pull away.
“Did that feel alright?” you whisper.
Why do you feel so ashamed? You’ve kissed people before. You’ve been loved before. So why is it that you can’t bear to look at Sanzu?
Sanzu lets out a snort and proceeds to kiss you again.
“Did that feel alright?” he mocks, smirk and snark crystal clear in his voice. “Of fucking course it did.”
To others, his response could’ve been entirely inappropriate. To you, however, it was hilarious. You crack up, letting out staccato huffs of laughter, and you feel the corners of your eyes crinkle up.
“Now you know how ridiculous you sound,” he says. Sanzu chuckles under his breath before setting your laptop on the night table and moving you over so that he’s now hovering over your body.
He asks, “What else are you worried about?” He’s still smirking, confident in his ability to rid you of your worries, and your self-esteem begins to return as well.
“I was just overthinking,” you admit. You gesture a little bit, trying to find the right words to explain, but you end up smiling sheepishly at Sanzu.
Sighing, he shakes his head and pinches at your cheeks. “Don’t.”
You laugh again and encircle your arms around his neck, pecking him to express your gratitude. But this time, his hand sneaks up your back and holds you at the base of your head. Unable to move, your eyes widen in surprise, and you release a cry that gets swallowed by his lips and tongue. Sanzu continues to steal your breath and voice, and when he releases you minutes later, you’re stunned silent.
You feel light-headed, and the burning in your cheeks and inner thighs is growing hotter with every passing second. Sanzu observes your flushed face for a second before he grins, diamonds creasing into dimples.
“Look at you,” he mutters, “all riled up.” He searches for your eyes until you two are looking at each other. “Let me eat you up, angel.”
Your breathy plea is all he needs before he pulls you in for another heated kiss.
Sanzu is greeted with a shrill whistle.
“Someone’s glowing today.”
Sanzu side-eyes Ran but continues his brisk walk to the conference room.
“So when did the two of you get together?” Ran probes with one eyebrow quirked. “She’s a really sweet girl. I hope you’re taking care of her.”
Sanzu grunts and opens the door. Most of the Bonten executives were in their assigned seats around a round table, save for him and Ran.
“Let’s start,” Takeomi says as he taps the spine of a binder twice on the table. A map is already projected onto a whiteboard, and certain regions are circled in red. “There have been a few fights in Kabukicho these past two weeks, and some club owners want us to increase security. I’ll designate oversight of this area to Rindou and Kakucho.”
“Why the two of us?” Kakucho asks.
“I’ll get to that in a second. First, look here.” Takeomi points at another red circle located near the Yokohama port. “Someone has been stealing our firearms before they get exported. There have already been two reports on separate occasions.”
Koko speaks up. “Have we recovered any of the stolen goods?”
Takeomi shakes his head and replies, “There’s a high probability that the culprit is stealing from us so they can increase their sales. We did manage to find out that this person escaped via car both times, and the vehicles they used were originally from the Kabukicho area.”
Mochizuki scoffs. “We can’t even catch a person who runs away with a shitty car.”
“That’s why I’m putting two people on the case. Rindou will watch over Kabukicho, while Kakucho monitors the roads that go into the district.”
“There’s no guarantee that they’ll go back to Kabukicho, though,” Kakucho says.
“Rindou, your main job is to find the stolen firearms. Track down any of the buyers and see if they have any information on the culprit. If you find anything interesting, tell Kakucho immediately.”
“I don’t see why we should waste our time on this,” Mochizuki argues. “There’s plenty of folks who would throw themselves at this job to get promoted in Bonten.”
Ran interjects here. “If I remember correctly, Mochizuki, you and your men are in charge of Yokohama, right?” Sanzu rolls his eyes, already foretelling how the rest of the meeting will unfold. “If I’m right, then isn’t this mess a result of your men’s incompetence?”
Mochizuki growls. “My men are perfectly capable.”
“So does that mean you’re taking responsibility for this problem? Are you admitting that you and your men have been careless?”
Mochizuki knocks over his chair as he shoots up from his seat. He is only stopped by Mikey’s raised hand.
Mochizuki mutters, “I apologize, Mikey.”
Mikey utters a singular command. “We will follow through with Takeomi’s preliminary plan. If it turns out that the culprit is not in the red light district anymore, then Kakucho should expand his search to nearby neighborhoods.”
Everyone nods, and Takeomi adjourns the meeting.
They file out of the conference room, leaving only Sanzu and Kakucho who holds him back.
“Sanzu, I can look over her while I’m in the area.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s not a good use of your time to be driving around Tokyo. You need to stay in Shibuya.
“Your partner lives near Kabukicho, right? Tell her to stay safe.”
Sanzu’s anger bursts. He grabs Kakucho by the collar and snarls, “Don’t tell me what to do. Everything’s going great in Shibuya, and she’s safe with me.” Kakucho stares back, and Sanzu stalks out of the room.
Sanzu’s frustration is interrupted when he feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket. He pulls it out and sees a text from you. It’s a picture of you and Chizu. You’re both sitting on top of a white canvas spread across your living room floor, and there’s clay splattered all over your clothes. Some of it has even gotten into your hair. A short moment later, you follow up with another photo of Chizu’s artwork and an attached message: “Art project failed successfully? Guess I’ll need to buy some more clothes, haha!”
Snorting under his breath, Sanzu replies: “Let’s go shopping next weekend.”
A few seconds later: “Sure! I want to check out that large department store close by.”
Sanzu smiles. “Sounds good. See you in a few, loser.” He pockets his phone before heading towards the garage.
When you mentioned “a large department store close by,” he didn’t think it would be one in Kabukicho. The smuggler still hasn’t been caught, and while Sanzu’s pretty sure no one would start a fight on Bonten territory out in broad daylight, he knows he has to be careful.
“Where’s the brat? Is she not coming with us?”
You roll your eyes at Sanzu before chirping happily, “Chizu’s having another sleepover! Same girl as last time. I think they’re becoming really good friends.”
The two of you continue to make small talk throughout the rest of the day. You meander around the mall, dropping into shops to replace the clothes you sacrificed for your daughter’s clay pot. Sanzu would follow you around but waits for you outside the stores instead. He isn’t interested in anything in the first place, but more importantly, it’s the only way he could keep watch. No one has updated him on the smuggler’s location either, so he’s erring on the side of caution.
“Sanzu, is something wrong?”
Your voice breaks his concentration. He was glowering at his phone, waiting for a text or a call or anything, and he didn't notice you come out.
“Just work. Do you have everything you need?” Sanzu says as he takes the shopping bag from your hands.
“I need to go to one more store, but that’ll be it.” Your boyfriend nods and gestures to you to lead the way.
You take an escalator up to the third floor. Sanzu looks around, observing the groups of people filtering in and out of shops, the music playing from speakers scattered across the hall, and signs that read “Exit closed” and “Caution.”
He glances back at you. You’ve entered a home furnishing store and are checking out kitchenware, arms folded and eyes squinted as you judge stainless steel. You find one that you seem to be considering, and he scoffs out a laugh when he sees you knocking the pan bottom and listening with your ear close to the handle. He feels a rush of adoration when he sees you find a set you’re satisfied with, and suddenly he wishes he had recorded the moment.
When you return, he brushes strands of hair away from your face before taking the new bag and adding it to the small collection strung on his arm. You furrow your brows, reaching out to grab the bag and maybe a few more back, but Sanzu promptly turns away and begins striding toward another store. You huff in protest, but the smile tugging at the corners of your lips gives away your gratitude.
“Is there any place you want to go to?” you ask.
He still hasn’t received any communication from Kakucho or Rindou, and he’s not sure if the lack thereof is a sign that the situation hasn’t escalated or that the two are so busy because the case is becoming more dire than they had expected. Regardless, Sanzu has learned to hone and trust in his instincts, and something in him is telling him that it’s time to leave. He cannot be out in the public eye for too long, anyway.
“No, I think it’s time we head back,” he replies. You hum in agreement, and the two of you walk towards the exit of the department, not without continuing to bicker over who should carry your shopping bags and discussing ideas for dinner.
When you enter the parking garage, though, it’s eerie. Too still for a department store that’s packed with people. Too quiet when the lot is parked to the brim. Only your talking about the bakery and how business is doing echoes throughout the garage, and Sanzu tries his best to find your car as soon as possible.
When he spots your compact, he tugs at your hand that he’s holding onto.
You pause from the abrupt gesture, but Sanzu looks back at you with urgency: Keep talking. You swallow with difficulty but resume. In fact, you don’t stop speaking until Sanzu starts backing out of the parking spot.
You look at the side view mirror to your right, and at first, you see nothing out of the ordinary. No men in suits or guns out in the open or anything. But then a flash of red catches your eye. You follow the beam until you reach a small red dot shining on the cover of your glovebox.
Your eyes widen, and you’re about to scream. Until Sanzu slides a hand over your leg and pinches.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Through gritted teeth, Sanzu eases the car free and makes his way to the exit. The red dot disappears, but you’re not sure if it’s really gone.
Only after you leave the lot does Sanzu speak up again. “You’re going to need a new car.”
You feel your knees buckle at the sight of your home. The journey back took hours, with having to take several detours in case you were being followed, finding a replacement car for you, and reporting to Kakucho and Rindou.
Sanzu’s hands grip your underarms, supporting your entire weight and carrying you into your apartment.
You mutter apologies under your breath, and he grunts and huffs in response. He doesn’t let go until he heaves you onto your bed, and even with the support of your mattress, you feel like you’re about to keel over.
What… happened today?
Was I about to die?
I was going to die.
Sanzu just kneels in front of you. In the corner of your eye, you see his hand reach out and twitch, but it falls to his side in reluctance.
This silence would have persisted had it not been for Sanzu’s phone and its loud rings. He tugs it out of his pocket – a glance at the screen, and you see that it’s a call from Kakucho. Quietly, your lover pads out of your bedroom and into the kitchen to take a call.
“What is it?” Sanzu’s voice is rough, even slightly strained. You hear scratches and buzzes of noise, unable to discern what Kakucho is saying.
“For fuck’s sake, I already said we’re fine.” Pause. “I didn’t need your help. Hell, I think you should be more worried about Rindou because he can’t seem to fucking do his job.” More murmurs from Kakucho. Suddenly, a bang. “I have it under fucking control!”
Your body reacts, and you run to your door to see what the commotion is. Sanzu’s back faces you, and one of your dining chairs is on the floor. He’s cursing Kakucho out for both his meddling and incompetence, tugging at his hair and itching at the diamond scars at the corners of his mouth.
As you watch, the scene begins to fade away, as if the noise is being drowned out by water and the fluorescent brightness of the kitchen lights saturates your vision. Ironically, your body feels light and floaty, and you’re viewing everything from an omniscient point of view.
You’ve felt danger before. When your parents kicked you out, leaving you to fend for yourself. When your ex raised his hand at you – sometimes you can still remember the sting on your cheek. When you gave birth to Chizu – the anesthesia kicked in too late, and you really felt like dying then.
But… this?
Whenever you close your eyes, the image of that red dot plagues you. Unblinking, harsh, bloody. You’ll never forget it for the rest of your life.
And it wasn’t even pointed at Sanzu. Not that you would want your lover to be in danger, but it’s clear that your safety is now compromised. And if you become a target, they – whoever “they” is – would discover Chizu.
Oh, God, please not Chizu –
“Sorry for knocking down your chair.”
Sanzu’s voice brings you back to the present. Soul returning to your body, you try to remember how to look at him. It takes a while, but when you do, you struggle to discern the emotions in his eyes. Or rather, the lack of any such emotions. His blue eyes are darkened with nothingness, void of any warmth or life or happiness.
“There’s a lot we need to talk about,” he says. His tone is that of a businessman discussing logistics and contracts, devoid of any sympathy or concern, but the two of you are in your little, messy kitchen next to a faded wooden kitchen table and an excuse of a living room that is packed with Chizu’s crayons and drawing pad and the walls of an apartment that have only heard your cries at 3 AM because you’ve worked so goddamn hard to be happy and –
“Please not right now.” The words come out wobbly and weak, and a spark finally returns to Sanzu’s eyes. You’ve tried hard to wear indifference at all times, so you can’t imagine the expression you must have on your face.
Next thing you know, he’s carrying you back to your bed, closing your door with a push of his foot, and gently laying you down.
He whispers, “I’ll do anything to make it up to you. But right now, please just let me have you.”
You beg, “I need you.”
Sanzu kisses away at the pathetically large globs of tears that roll down your heated cheeks. He peels off your clothes before throwing them down onto the floor. He lets his hands wander and grab and knead at your skin, leaving bruising marks of pink and purple. He fills you up, and the room reverberates with his pants and your desperate pleas for more. And even when you finish, he keeps going, as if his desire could never be satiated, and you see flashes of white and red and nothing.
Sanzu can’t tear his eyes off of your sleeping form. Usually, he’d admire the damage he’d done to you and your body, but the dried crust and permanent frown on your face extinguish his pride.
He doesn’t know how to feel. He has a decisive character, yet even his strongest trait is failing him in this crucial moment. He doesn’t know how to proceed. There would be no right time to talk to you. There would never be a right time to see you so shell-shocked and crestfallen. There would never be a reason for Sanzu to hurt you.
He doesn’t have it under fucking control.
He manages to roll over onto his other side and is faced with your LED clock, the numbers indicating that it’s still early in the morning.
Time solves all eventually, right? But what would the solution look like in this case?
His gut drops. There is no other way to keep you and Chizu completely safe.
And suddenly, he’s feeling too much.
He cries and cries and cries. He’s sobbing while biting down on his chapped lips, which causes you to stir in your sleep, but you don’t wake. He hates showing weakness in front of others, but he bargains with himself to allow just this one time and brings you into his embrace.
In reality, though, once isn’t enough – he will never have enough of you. He wants all of your evenings, sunrises, homemade sugary desserts, breathless kisses, and gentle smiles. He wants to be there to accompany you on every grocery run and shopping trip because he knows you’re used to doing everything by yourself. After all, you’re busy with your new job, and he can spare an extra hour or two to help out – that’s what partnerships are, a give and take, back and forth. Besides, he’s promised Chizu he’d be there for her, so even if you didn’t want him anymore, he can’t go back on his word, right?
He sighs.
Who the fuck is he kidding?
Your relationship has never been a partnership. He’s always taking from you.
At first, you seemed so… immovable. So put together, he didn’t think you wanted another person in your life. But then you two naturally gravitated toward one another, and Chizu, being the loud mouth that she is, also held his heart hostage. He became a part of this little family, and for the first time, he wanted to be a more responsible person because you gave him reason to.
But it’s too late to change the worst parts of himself. Intentionally or not, he’s never been one to keep promises.
“Trust me,” he whispers into your temple, “I’d stay if I could. I really would.”
Sanzu knows he’s cursed to live a rotten life in the shadows. It’s probably some sort of karmic debt he’s accumulated from all the shit he’s done in his past lives, so as much as he loves you, he’s helpless to his fate. He can’t walk away from the ball and chain that is his past, and he’s too entrenched and entangled in the life he’s living now.
There is no other way.
He knows.
So he clasps your hands tightly one last time, praying to the heavens above for your and Chizu’s happiness and safety, before he prepares to leave.
The next morning, you notice that where Sanzu once was, sits a box with a note folded on top of it.
You already know.
Though you can’t help but still reach for the box, desperate for any trace of your lover.
Inside sits a thin wedding ring. There is no matching band.
I’ll always be yours.
You slip it on your fourth finger and admire it under the faint sunlight that streams into your room.
Maybe if you didn’t care so much.
Maybe if the two of you had met at another time or another place.
Maybe if you two were different people.
Maybe in another life.
234 notes · View notes
hai7ani · 1 year ago
Text
THE MEADOW haitani rindou
sfw, hurt/comfort, an extra to the home collection 𖠋
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"Mama, a boy or a girl?"
A tiny voice speaks and you're woken up from your little daydream.
Your daughter's gentle voice bounces off the wall of her quiet yet peaceful bedroom. The loud ringing in your ears are put on pause and blood stops rushing to your head -- you feel as if you're sucked back into reality. It disrupts you from the mindless, ruthless picking of the skin around your thumb that's starting to bleed and all of a sudden you're back in the present again -- a wife and a mother, sitting in her daughter's bedroom on a Tuesday night with the sole mission of checking in on her.
Wide, glossy purple eyes that so mimics the man she calls her father and he whom you call your lover, stares up at you from your chest and you smile a little at her expression.
"Dunno yet, 'Kiya. It's still early to know." You reach a gentle hand up to brush her bangs backward and reveal her forehead. You lean down to press little kisses on her tofu-like skin -- two smooches and three pecks -- and she pouts at your reply that has refuted the answer she's wanted to hear. "Mama, Sakiya wanna know now."
"A little longer, 'kay?" You pull away from her head to run a thumb over her temple. She gives slow blinks at your gentleness -- you know it has always succeeded in making her sleepy. But Sakiya seems to know of your little trick, so she leans back, away from your thumb, straightens her spine up a little, and she hums in defeat. But your baby still giggles a little when larger hands of yours move to tickle her sides gently -- an attempt to distract her from making a fuss.
She doesn't, and instead, your baby decides to rest her head back down on your mounds with small arms tightening around your frame and your nose sours a little at her gesture -- it reddens, and suddenly you're reminded again of her father.
And then you hear soft padding behind you both. You don't need to turn around to know who it is, and Rindou plops down beside you both on the floor -- he's still in his work clothes, most probably still working on some leftover paperwork he's decided to bring home with him tonight.
No doubt he's been standing there the entire time. You sort of knew he was there the moment he had decided to eavesdrop on the two of you -- the cologne that was sprayed onto his work clothes selling him out -- instead of coming in to say what he's wanted to say.
What more can he say, anyway?
You can feel his deject before he even opens his mouth, and he doesn't -- Rindou doesn't say a thing and he sits there while relishing in whatever he is currently feeling. Perhaps it is guilt. You don't know at this point, you don't want to assume -- not after the tone he's chosen to pick up with you earlier after coming home in what seemed to be annoyance. Not at you -- at his coworkers. You know that much, but you seemed to have received the end of it. It didn't feel nice -- it made you feel like nothing despite the way he still finds it in him to put away your laundry back in the closet after passing by the couch.
Sakiya doesn't acknowledge his presence outrightly. You don't look at him.
He sighs.
You hear a small clatter against the parquet, and your eyes move to take a quick glance. Your heart stops beating in your chest for a long minute, but you don't make it known.
You've half-expected him to see it -- it's placed in such an obvious place, he'd be an awful fucking husband to not notice. But you did not expect him to bring it to you; to look at you after with so much emotion held that almost makes you want to give in and cry when you peep at his eyes.
The pregnancy test looks so small in between the three of you on the floor compared to how big it seemed when it sat in the safety of your palms back in the morning -- shaky hands belonging to you who was alone, unsure of what to do, with no husband to yell for, and a girl eating sliced kiwi by the breakfast table who is still so young that you don't know what to tell her -- if you should be telling her this soon in your pregnancy that is still yet to be confirmed by a doctor.
But she finds out anyway. Sakiya has always been a smart girl. A gifted one too -- many would say.
And she suddenly tugs on the strap of your nightgown.
So you decide to ignore. You ignore him.
You continue indulging in Sakiya's little blabbers of telling her more about babies and you kiss her cheek after every sentence that you speak. You try to keep it as simple as possible -- that Mama and Daddy fell in love, had her together.
And you think your baby is so sweet when she flashes a toothy grin and soft almond eyes fold into thin crescents at the mention of you and her father -- she's always loved listening to the stories that you and Rindou tell her about the past; your youths, your memories that are still so vivid when playing in both your heads, your love for each other that had eventually blossomed into a little girl named Sakiya . . .
And Rindou's heart cracks a little more underneath those ribs and bones when you still don't acknowledge him, even though he is sitting just there -- right beside you -- and holding his pointer out to which Sakiya had immediately wrapped her little hand around it after seeing.
You aren't looking at him but he knows you are so much more than upset -- you are heartbroken -- and he notices how you try so hard to look at everything but him (you want to look at him), choosing to play with your daughter's hair and nosing at her chubby cheeks instead. He sees the little quiver of your lips that grows a little more rigid when Sakiya turns to him and asks if he knows -- because his eyes has never once left you the moment he'd entered the room.
"Did you know, Daddy? A baby in Mama's belly, again."
He didn't.
Rindou had only found out that you were pregnant again just ten minutes ago when he'd entered the bathroom after finally finishing his paperwork. He pushes the door open, and the first thing that meets his eyes is the white pregnancy stick on the counter with two bold red lines slapping him in the face after he moves closer to take a look.
And his heart drops to his chest.
It all connects, and Rindou leans back against the wooden door with a soft thud, a towel bunched up and sits messily on one folded arm as he holds the test with both hands carefully and thinks about all that he's done.
Because Rindou had been mean to you earlier -- you were clearly trying to tell him something from the way you've been attempting to drag him off to where Sakiya couldn't hear, and he'd brushed you off.
You tried talking to him when he finally came home after work -- smiling ear to ear when you greeted him at the front door and kissing his collarbone as a silent yet intimate welcome home.
Welcome home to us.
And you say while scratching at your scalp that you've just finished cooking dinner -- if he wanted to eat first or to shower first -- while throwing in a remark that you need a shower too, maybe we can talk in the bath. He tells you he isn't feeling that hungry despite the message being sent to you earlier -- asking if you could cook some curry because he has been craving for it lately -- and you nod when he walks away despite feeling a little weird from his sudden change in behaviour because Rindou seldom ever comes home like this, moody and . . . curt.
So you follow behind after making sure that Sakiya is entertained with her TV show that you say in brief and short sentences about you and your daughter's day. You know he is always overwhelmed and tired after work -- you don't want to bombard him with too much information, so you keep it short and simple.
It's a habit how you decide to shift your attention away from your husband who is putting away your laundry in the closet and instead, fidgeting with a pile of his clothes that's yet to be hung up. You figure it's because you're nervous of telling him about the news, so you're finding ways to distract yourself while making the atmosphere less tense and Rindou sighs a little too loudly when you pause to hear his reply to your genuine question.
"Did you finish the bento today? Was the shimeji nice? I got up earlier to make it because it takes longer to cook."
He turns to you and purses his lips before laying a hand flat out with his palm facing the sky, and you stare at it. You blink a few times, unsure of what is it that he wants, so you figure to place your own in his with a cheeky smile. A tease is about to fall out of your mouth until he sighs again.
Rindou clicks his tongue, "the clothes." A deep frown forms on his forehead while he stares at the pile of fabric in your hands, and under the intense atmosphere that he's planted in the room, you're feeling warm everywhere. Not the kind of warmth that makes you all giddy on the inside though, but the one that sends a hurtful pang to your chest and you're forced to hand him the clothes when he snatches it out of your grip.
Why is he being like this?
You grow awkward when he doesn't say anything further after turning his back to you. And you must've been a fool -- a fool to not realise his growing agitation, when you open your mouth to tell him you'll be getting dinner ready.
You should've left. You should've just left him and his stupid attitude in there to get as mad as he wants. You should've went back to Sakiya and helped her in changing the channels -- your baby was calling for you and her father both. You realise then that he hadn't given Sakiya her forehead kiss that she looks forward to everyday.
But a loose thread from presumably one of his clothes swirls around in the air and ultimately, it finds its place on Rindou's hair.
So you don't leave. You and your stupid heart don't.
"Baby, I'll scoop rice. Come eat when it's still warm." You inch closer to pick away the white thread. You're only millimetres away from it -- it is so close to your fingertips. You'll pick away the thread and then leave him alone -- but Rindou turns back around before you're able to do anything.
It was all so sudden. You hadn't expected it. You never saw it coming.
And it seems that your sudden closeness to him had agitated him further.
"Fuck,"
You wanted to end the conversation.
"Can you stop talking?"
He thought you were going to speak more.
And that, with an angry, dark glare, paired with a very deep frown that you don't think you've ever saw this look of absolute anger and annoyance being directed at you before, is enough to make you step back, all silent.
"I'm tired. And you keep on talking. Can you do it later or something?" He spits, words a little mumbly but with a hurtful tut to it. You know he is never one to raise his voice at you or his daughter no matter the situation, especially now that Sakiya is here with newfound emotions that she's still yet to feel and learn how to regulate, but he did it today, and he clicks his tongue another time before swiftly resuming to his task at hand.
So the laundry was a means to ease his mind off things.
But you can see the slight falter of his demeanour when he turns around again -- not fully, just enough for him to look at you, to see the hurt in your eyes as you look at the floor, and upon feeling his attention, you lift your chin up to stare back at him. You gaze into his eyes that once held so much anger and annoyance in them -- it is now full of guilt and shame. Perhaps he is sorry for raising his voice at you, he is sorry for cussing at you, but he doesn't say a thing, and he turns his back to you again.
Though Rindou didn't outrightly yell at you, it doesn't mean that it hurt any less than having someone do it. You think it hurt more than that.
Your hand rests by your side, fingers twitching as you feel sweat gather in your palms.
The pain in your heart is suffocating.
You turn your back and close the door with a loud pang. It was a fury of thought, and it scared Sakiya. You immediately regret the action upon seeing the shock in her eyes, the stutter in her breath as she tries hard to regain her peace. "Sorry, baby. Mama's sorry." You apologise with a shaky voice while carrying her up from the couch and towards the kitchen. She nuzzles her nose in your neck with wide eyes after feeling your comfort while looking back at the door to your bedroom, where Rindou is not present.
He hadn't followed you out. He still hasn't tried to apologise.
So you don't talk to him the entire evening -- not even when Sakiya was tugging on the end of your shirt gently and asking if Daddy wants to eat dinner too through a mouth full of rice and curry. You'd simply wiped away the excess off the corner of her lips and adjusted her napkin hanging on her neck, "Daddy will eat later. We'll eat first."
And it's when you figure that you're done for the day and headed into your daughter's bedroom to check on her and give her some affirmations that Rindou finally heads into the shower and notices the stick on the counter.
It was a slap to reality. He hadn't realised until then that he was being unfair to you earlier -- those mean words and the ugly expression he's given you, it makes him want to punch himself for making you feel so unwanted, because he's always the one who tells you to keep talking, and listens closely as you do. Rindou had promised not to bring work and its emotions back home, and now he's gone and done this. He's gone and hurt you.
He broke your heart.
He'd stared at the stick for quite a long time, with vibrating eyes deciding to take a quick glance at the bin just beneath the counter -- filled with boxes and boxes of pregnancy test kits and they all have the same results.
You are pregnant again, and he sure is a big fool for not noticing it earlier -- how you've been starting to crave the same things you wanted when you were carrying Sakiya, how you've started to speak less as to not get emotional because he knows your sensitivity must be heightened and everything would seem sad to you, how you've been feeling more and more tired lately because of your hormonal change . . .
And he also knows that you aren't ready for a second child -- you'd said it to him one night before falling asleep that even though it's already been 4 years since you've given birth to Sakiya, you don't think your body is ready for another baby yet. The trauma, the pain, the healing for both mentally and physically, it is all too much for you to handle, and he understands. Your recovery process was rough and his heart hurts when reminded of the days you'd cry in his arms that you don't think you're cut out for this -- for being a mother. Baby blues had hit you hard and it'd took a long time for it to wear off on you. And yet he thinks that here you are, being the best mother one can ever ask for.
You've not made any plans together for a second child either, and though it may sound a little harsh and mean, but Rindou doesn't think he is suitable to be a father of two. Sure, his baby is well-behaved, but there are still days where Sakiya herself can be a little bit too much to handle -- she is still a toddler after all.
So to add in another in the family? Rindou is not sure if he can handle it.
His train of thought gets disrupted when Sakiya curiously shakes his hand a little. He gets pulled back to the present again with the motion, and finds that she's staring at him with wide eyes that mirrors his own. She's waiting for an answer. He brings her hand up to place a kiss on the back of her palm before rubbing gentle circles at it.
His gaze focuses back at you before choosing his words -- you're staring at the parquet while playing with a loose thread on Sakiya's Hello Kitty onesie that you got for her a few winters ago. She still fits in it, surprisingly, and it sure is her favourite one to wear to bed while her father pats her back to sleep and you're beside to run a palm over her hair.
"I didn't. Just found out." He decides to tell his daughter honestly. You bite at your lip to stop the quiver, the sadness in you growing tenfold when it finally sinks it after his words -- that this is how Rindou finds out about it. You wanted to be the one to break it to him. You wanted to be there to see the initial look of shock on his face when he realises. But that wasn't how it went, and instead, the reveal of your new happiness growing in your belly was found out by its parents separately, both alone, along with emotions of anger mixed in with a little fear.
This isn't how it should be. I'm sorry.
An endearing giggle breaks you both out of your minds with Sakiya shaking her father's hand and tugging at your dress at the same time. She's so happy at her father's response. "Sakiya found out before Daddy, Mama." She turns her head at you, laughing.
That alone is enough to have you crumble. And you start to weep when Rindou leans forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder. He then presses his cheek to your arm, scrunching his nose playfully at his daughter who is finding joy in pinching her father's cheek, while a hand of his snakes around your frame to find solace on your waist. It moves up and down, slowly, warmly, and he moves closer and closer until he's fully hugging you now. Despite the previous anger and sadness, you still let him do it though, and you too fight the urge to lean back against his chest and cry.
You instinctively hug your daughter close to your chest and press your face in her neck. She is so much more smaller than you are, but you don't think you have felt so safe holding someone in your arms. There is your husband, but he's been feeling a little distant lately.
Sakiya wraps herself around your neck a little tighter at your sudden movements -- as though she had sensed something was wrong, and something is wrong. "Mama." She calls out softly as a habit and you hum, albeit a little broken and hoarse, but she knows that you've responded to her -- she knows that you're here with her -- and it is all that matters.
His chest tightens when you fix yourself quickly -- a little sniffle, a wipe to your eyes, and you choose to push away your emotions. You are still avoiding him -- his eyes -- choosing to focus on your 4 year old who is babbling mindlessly into your chest instead and you're grinning brightly when she tries speaking in English. She's started picking up the language from you, perhaps by listening in on a few of the conversations you'd have with Rindou on the dinner table in a foreign language still not taught to her yet because there are things you don't want her to hear, to know. Bills, taxes, the car loan, are we getting groceries on Saturday or Sunday? Baby's birthday is coming up, do you have any ideas on what to do?
Rindou's moved so close to the point he has his chin on one of your shoulders with both hands securing around you and Sakiya as he listens to the two of you converse, with you trying so hard to avoid his steady breath as it fans over the expanse of your skin. It's so tempting, but you stand your ground.
Sakiya then spurs out a little something cheerfully -- you don't know the word she's trying to say, but it is cute and lovely to hear her try and you pat her butt with another soft kiss to her forehead.
And for a split second Rindou thought he'd seen you in your arms -- your face in your arms -- because despite what you and so many other people tell him, he thinks that Sakiya looks much more like you than she looks like him -- she's got your smile, your chin, your hair, your grace, your silliness . . .
Yet she also looks so much like him, and he finds his fleeting mind wandering further and further whenever Sakiya would sit on his lap and look straight into his eyes with a big, toothy smile. It is as though he is staring into a mirror -- at a reflection of himself, and through her eyes he sees so many things, like the young boy from Roppongi who is still so little with so many high hopes to so many new things in life, and always, the one thing that stands out the most is love: a warmth that has a bit of a red and orangey tinge to it when she hugs him as he carries her around, the flower of her father's name that she scribbles with coloured crayons on A4 papers daily to practice her 4 year old handwriting, and she's calling for you to come look at this 'new' scar on Daddy's eyebrow that has actually been there for the past 20 years.
He'd smile a little at the vision -- he doesn't think it's weird. Of course he'd see love in her.
Because Sakiya is love. It is evident with the times she'd randomly high five strangers in public, in restaurants with other kids her age, in daycare where she's almost friends with everybody her age due to her cheerfulness, and especially the times she'd sleep in your bed -- squeezed and coddled between the both of you -- with small arms still holding onto the bunny her father got her when she was still a newborn. She refuses to let you wash it too.
A total contrast of her father, and yet she's so much like him.
"Baby, you look so much like your Daddy." He hears you whisper to your daughter who is grinning widely in your arms with both little hands now covering yours that cups her cheeks. It makes him start chewing off the skin on his bottom hip when he sees the soft look in your eyes as you point out the similarities of him and your daughter. He was so mean to you earlier; mean for no damn reason at all, and his guilt starts eating him alive when Sakiya lulls her head to the side with eyes that are about to close.
"Mama, dodo." "Dodo? Okay."
You start moving at it, and Rindou watches with a careful yet loving gaze hidden behind half-lidded eyes as you carefully manoeuvre her body properly into your arms and stand up. He notices that you're avoiding your lower abdomen a lot, and despite being sleepy, Sakiya is also careful when positioning her little legs -- he figures that you've already briefed her a little by yourself on what not to do now that you're pregnant and your body is a little more vulnerable than usual.
A part of him screams for him to do it instead -- to stand up and put Sakiya to bed instead of letting you who is in a much more vulnerable state to do so.
And the other part of him doesn't let himself move to put your daughter to sleep despite it being something that he always does -- he is always away during the day for work, so you let him have a little space for himself to spend some time with his daughter alone at night. The sick part of him wants his eyes to admire the pretty outline of your body -- your alluring back, the way your neck looks when faced under the moonlight from the curtains that you leave open just a little because Sakiya doesn't like the dark a lot, your bottom that he loves touching at so much but he resists his itchy hands for now.
You're cradling your daughter warmly as you bounce her gently in order to coo her into sleep faster and his mind travels back to the times when Sakiya was still a newborn -- all those sleepless nights of waking up abruptly at 3 in the morning to her cries, and you'd shush her gently with a kiss before pulling up the top of whatever you're wearing to breastfeed and pat her back to sleep with tired yawns and droopy eyelids.
Caring for babies were still new to the two of you and yet Rindou would always stay up with you while rubbing your sore back despite being told to go back to sleep because you can handle it. He remembers vividly the way you've always looked like an angel when cradling your newborn in your arms as you hum a soft lullaby that Granny had always sung to you when you were still her age.
And Rindou thinks you look so pretty when your nightgown sways a little with you as you bounce and rock your baby in your arms, humming the same lullaby to her ear as she finally falls asleep.
His wife, the mother of his children. His lover -- you.
"Goodnight, 'Kiya." You kiss her forehead before placing her back in her crib and she hums tiredly. "Night night, Mama."
Sakiya doesn't say it to Rindou. He feels a little hurt, but eventually accepts that he deserves his daughter's neglect tonight to have treated you in such a way. You pick up your things in one hand and move to exit the room, so he quickly reaches down the crib to place a kiss on Sakiya's forehead while rubbing a few slow circles on her temple, to which she starts snoring gently at it.
And he follows silently behind you as you head back into your bedroom and sit by the dresser. He doesn't dare enter; he doesn't want to overwhelm you. So he stands by the entrance and watch as you take off your earrings, dump it into a container and untie your hair. He watches as you comb through the locks and put on some oil, as you pat down your dress and crawl into bed. He watches intently as you avoid laying on your stomach, you're careful when manoeuvring yourself under the sheets and he watches as you get comfortable and lay on your back with a huff.
Youdon't talk to him, and you turn off the lamp.
He walks, and he switches it back on.
You feel the dip of the mattress and open your eyes.
"Hey." Rindou finally says as he sits by your leg and sigh. You don't feel like talking to him, but you want to look at him -- so you do. You watch him hold the stick in one hand and the other rubs softly on your ankle.
"Can we talk?" You blink tiredly at his request and he moves down to rest his head on your lap. He's peering up at you now, eyes staring so intently into yours that you choose to look at his forehead instead. Somehow it felt a little scary to face his eyes, his intense stare, his pretty purples -- you're afraid you're going to see the same expression being directed at you again, but you see the little frown on forehead and your thumb itches to rub it over his skin.
You stop yourself after being reminded of where it got you both when you didn't leave it alone.
That sparked a small anger in you.
"You told me to shut up, and now you want to talk?" You're starting to feel a little petty, and you know it is passive aggressive -- not a good way to communicate after a fight -- but the anger is starting to take over your emotions and before you can stop it from taking its final form, you push his head away from your thigh gently.
"I'm sorry." Rindou sits back up in one swift motion, face full of his apology and you throw the blanket covering your legs away to the side with a huff. He's never one to apologise.
"Are you?" You scoff a little, "or are you only saying sorry after seeing that?" You jut your chin towards the stick in his hand and he sighs at the realisation of your thoughts, your brain, while furrowing his brows in the process of trying to get you to calm down just a little.
He's majorly fucked up.
"It's nothing like that, fuck." Rindou scoots closer to your body, panic evident in the way he moves and a warm hand covers your cheek. "Please, baby. Shit, it's not that at all." He pleads, thumb running over your eye bags and you close your eyes at it. You're frowning, you're angry, you're upset, you're tired -- it's everything all at once. Lips pouting, nose souring, and when you open your eyes up again you find a stray tear rolling down your cheek.
You feel so sad.
"Rindou." It's a desperate call, and you're sobbing fully now. Just five seconds was all it took for you to break down and cry and he panics a little when wobbly fingers peel his hand away from your skin. All the pent up emotions -- mostly of sadness and anxiety, finally breaking free from its facade and you choose to shuffle into his lap.
He is still in his work clothes, you're already showered and changed into your nightgown, but you don't care. Though he's upset you, all you want to do is to have him hold you and cry. He presses you close immediately and cups both of your cheeks, thumbs swiping away the many tears that follows.
You cry harder at it, because Rindou is the only one who can ever give you this much comfort, and yet he was also the same person who'd taken it away from you with just words and an ugly expression casted your way.
And you're honest when you say it to him.
"Baby, I can't do this if you're only in it for the children."
Rindou's world crumbles around him.
Sweat starts forming on his skin and he feels his cheeks burn stingily from your words. He is absolutely devastated when you said you can't do this -- do what? His breath stutters in his mouth as you sob silently and you cover your palms over your eyes to cover yourself from his. Overflowing tears escapes your hands as it rolls down the sides of your cheeks, and he finally processes your words then.
It's nothing like that.
"Baby," His eyeballs vibrates and blown out pupils flickers back and forth between you and the test kit in his hands. He needs to actually know what you're trying to say -- it can't be what he's thinking, right? He loves you and your daughter too much for anything bad to happen -- he knows he's fucked up. He didn't mean what he said to you earlier.
Please talk to me. Please. Don't stop talking.
"You're only making up to me because I'm pregnant, right? You want the baby. I know you do. All men wants them." You hiss through broken cries and his heart clenches at it -- like a chain filled with thorns and needles tightening around his flesh and it sends such a throbbing pain through his chest; but he knows that what you're feeling right now is ten times worse than that, and it is all because of him -- solely him and his major fuck up where the anger and frustration shouldn't be aimed at you at all. He should've never brought the work home with him -- it's done nothing but stress and weigh on his mind all evening.
"It's nothing like that." Rindou repeats his words and he attempts to kiss your cheek but you turn your head away from him; from the warmth that you crave so eagerly from him.
"How can I know? You were so mean to me earlier, I'm starting to think you don't want me anymore. Husbands don't talk to their wives like that."
You cry, you wail, your heart breaks in your chest even more, and he doesn't think there's anything he can do that can make up for it.
"I'm sorry." He slowly turns your head back to him. "Are you? Or are you only saying sorry just because you want me to stop crying?" You glare at him.
"I'n sorry, baby." Your cheek is to him, and he finally gets to kiss your fat now. One kiss and it's got him placing more and more on your skin. "So sorry." Again and again, as a way to display of his apologies that he's begging to your heart but you shake your head in denial with a pout.
"Men only stay with their wife for kids. They don't love them, they only want children." You spit with an angry sob.
Rindou knows it is your trauma speaking, and he doesn't blame you at all -- he knows the kind of father yours is, the kind of father his was, and hot tears spring to his waterline at the connection. He'd swore to himself to never become the men the two of them were, and now, he seems to be following in their footsteps . . .
Or perhaps Rindou is being a little too rough on himself -- because deep down he knows he is nothing like the men who have left a dark imprint on both your upbringings; that he is so much better than who they were in your lives -- a better man, a better person, a better father. And after releasing your anger it seems you also know that he is nothing like them too. So you cling to his neck and pull him closer to your body while placing wobbly kisses on his jawline as an apology for comparing him to them.
You're nothing like them. I'm sorry.
"I love you." Rindou whispers against your skin. It's heartwarming, the way he dips his head down to press his lips on your throat and squeeze at your hips until you're nothing but a wailing mess.
His heart cracks loudly in his chest. "I'm sorry. I was mean, I'm sorry. Didn't mean it, baby." And Rindou keeps on saying it again and again until your cries finally die down just a little and you start breathing properly again.
So much mucus in your nose and he pulls out a tissue from the nightstand for you to let it all out. It's messy -- your face is wet from tears, snot is still dribbling down your nose as he helps you to wipe them off with another clean sheet of tissue, and your lips are so red and quivery from the cry, the sadness.
There's still a hint of doubt in your eyes when he pulls away to take a good look at you. Rindou tries kissing it away, "love you, Mama." Your bottom lip juts out a little at it and he kisses on it softly, "love you." Rindou says it again and you knock your forehead against his cheekbone. It's a little gesture to show that you've acknowledged it, but you're going to need some time to say it back. Not now -- at least when you're finally okay enough to look him in the eyes again.
And it's when his vacant hand intertwines with your sticky ones that you finally ask him the question you've been wanting to this whole time.
". . . Are we keeping it?"
He's silent for a minute. A puzzled look on his face has fear running through your veins, afraid of what he's going to say.
But Rindou simply blinks down at your panic form instead.
"Why not?" He asks, warm hands running down your back, your neck, your cheek.
Rindou is truly confused by your question.
Relief washes over your body at his reply. You sigh into his chest, ". . . We haven't had plans for another." You state, and he picks away a torn, wet piece of tissue just beneath your eyes.
"Well, it's here." He fiddles with your strap next, fixing it in place. "And we're keeping it . . . right?" He looks at you while he asks it, wanting for your confirmation as well. He needs to be ensured that you want this just as much as he does. He's the one giving them surname, but you're the one giving them life -- a home -- with eyes to open to the world, and touch to feel the universe.
You nod softly at it, albeit a bit hesitant but you feel a little bit better when he soothes a hand down your back to ground you. "I wanna."
Rindou smiles -- it's a little shy, but you're shy too, and he pulls you closer to his chest with a warmth that only you can plant in him.
"Then I'm okay," There's still a cry left in you but you hold it in. "We'll figure it out as we go." He says with a nose to your cheek and you blink away the tears. "'Kiya is here with us too, no?" You nod again and he nods at you. "We'll figure it out together."
It's not perfect -- he knows his apology isn't complete, but he's got you calmed down for now, and you've figured out an answer together. He'll find more ways to make it up to you tomorrow, or at least when you're not as tired as how droopy your eyelids are right now -- you're sleepy and he knows, so he gently helps you to lay on your back carefully and he kisses your forehead.
You fall asleep in an instant with him kissing you every once in a while, and Rindou lays with you just a little bit longer before he finally gets up, off the bed. A small part of him knows it is not the correct way but he wishes that hopefully a warm shower will be able to wash away his guilt . . .
He carefully places the pregnancy test in an envelope, writing down the date and some other details before peeling off a yellow post-it from his desk.
Call Fujita for appointment
Buy mango rice
Rindou slaps it on the fridge. He steps back a little to look at it and eyes the big calendar hanging off the wall.
A few bites at his fingernails, a few more clicks his tongue, he decides to jot down the same things on there too, in the box of tomorrow's date -- he doesn't want to forget it.
He steps back again and his left foot hits a toy.
And all of a sudden Haitani Rindou is 31 again, a nervous first-time parent who'd just found out about your very first pregnancy together. The raw emotions running through his veins as he looks up on research online with shaky hands, as he held your hand while you consulted with your doctor for the very first time, as you both sat on the floor in the bathroom together wondering about the future.
Now, standing in the middle of his kitchen alone as he fidgets with one of Sakiya's toy he'd picked up from the floor, Rindou thinks it is okay despite the little worry about handling two kids now.
You'll figure it out together -- as parents, as a family.
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reblogs are appreciated! thank you for reading <3
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cannellee · 1 year ago
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Will you be sharing any yandere omega Tokyo revenge?? 🫣🫣
TOKYO REVENGERS YANDERE OMEGAVERSE ★
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୨୧ alpha!yandere! Tokyo revengers x omega! Reader (pairing : mikey, draken, mitsuya, taiju, kokonoi, hanma, izana, sanzu)
— what is it like being in a relationship with them
cw : sex, manipulation, red flags 🚩...
(I'm not doing baji here but later since I got a separate request for him! enjoy!)
౨ৎ my other yandere work : baji
౨ৎ my masterlist : ☆
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MIKEY
it's safe to say yandere alpha mikey is a bit protective, to say the least.
always questioning whether his omega will be safe or not, the all consuming fear of losing his relatives is so strong he can't help it.
you can't go out on your own obviously, mikey needs to keep you under his watch and make sure you're not in danger.
that's why he's almost always keeping you inside, only allowing you a brief taste of fresh air once in a while and only if he's with you.
he can't risk losing you.
alpha mikey is proud and possessive, a look your way and he's throwing hands and sending anybody to the hospital.
you learnt the hard way it's better for your safety and everyone's that you listen to him, because once he's set his mind on something, there's no going back.
will actually restrain you if you ever try to leave without his consent. why can't his omega stay still? he knows better than you, he knows what is safe and what isn't, so why are you so adamant to disobey him?
yes he prevents you from going out, yes he's the one who gets to decide what you can wear or not and yes if he tells you to strip, you strip. but, at the end of day, isn't he doing all that for you?
he knows how tough the outside world is, his sweet omega wouldn't last a day. he needs to shield her from the ever so unfair world and show her that mikey is the only one you need.
he can provide, he'll work hard just for you and he'll make sure you're always fed and have a roof over your head.
in exchange, you need to promise you'll stay right by his side.
your delicate self can't handle the roughness of the world.
TAIJU
yandere alpha taiju is violent, you can't change my mind.
he's obsessed with his omega and thinks the only way for him to protect her is to scare her enough she'll never think about disobeying, hence doing stupid things.
taiju is very sure of himself and he knows exactly what an omega like you needs.
you're weak and vulnerable, taiju is going to be your only support in life, be grateful.
wants pups and you'll give it to him. he has a predefined image of the perfect mate : a submissive omega, devoted to her alpha.
and that's what you better be if you don't want taiju to beat you into being a good little pet.
he has no problem using his pheromones to force you into submission either. you can plead and beg all you want, taiju will only stop once you've sworn you'll never upset him again.
you need to initiate pda, he acts like he doesn't like it when you do, but if you don't expect a grumpy taiju. he'll doubt your affection for him. why aren't you clinging to him like any lovesick omega would?
you're too dumb for your own good in taiju's eyes, omegas like you need an alpha in their lives otherwise they're lost and putting themselves in constant danger.
useless to mention, but you can count on taiju to never let you see the sun again. the only thing you need to focus on is him, your alpha. other people are futile.
MITSUYA
now mitsuya is smart and sweet. a great combo which makes your dumb omega brain so oblivious to his manipulation.
treats you like his doll, so delicate and precious, you need his care and attention. his omega is so needy :(
tells you what to wear, scolds you like a child when you misbehave, controls what you eat and your sleep schedule.
you can't handle yourself, mitsuya knows that, and that's why he's here<3
but you won't notice him slowy cutting off your contacts or progressively keeps you more and more inside his house until they point it out to you.
and you realise they're right. it's been so long since you've last went out, you're getting bored. but mitsuya is quick to reason his gullible mate.
how cute of you to think about going out when you have him right next to you! you don't like being with him? even though he des all those things just for you? how ungrateful:(
but mitsuya is so understanding, he knows you're just overwhelmed. don't worry, as your alpha mitsuya will make you feel better<3
now go and make a nest for the both of you, like the good omega you are!
mitsuya will soon come to cuddle you, he knows how needy you are for him<3 he'll praise you for doing so well to please your alpha and you'll thank him for being so kind and reliable. that's the perfect scenario in his head!
DRAKEN
now alpha draken is patient but he makes sure to keep you in line.
while mitsuya can be a bit lax on how you behave, draken will make it clear from the beginning he doesn't tolerate disrespect.
he loves you, he really does, that's why he's so strict when it comes to your relationship.
as his omega, you have your own role you need to follow. draken will follow his, keeping you safe and happy.
in the mean time, you listen to his words without any complaints or he'll have to punish you, and you know he hates that:(
he isn't too rough when it comes to punishment, he'll most likely scold you really harshly, scare you a bit and cuddle you. all of that to put you in your place a little and remind you that, while he can protect you, he also has the power to hurt you really bad.
but he doesn't! because he loves his omega, and you should thank him for that<3
when he's stressed, present yourself to him without a word and let him fuck you until he's satisfied. as a thank you, he'll buy you plushies, nest items... name it and it's yours!
if you obey well, a relationship with draken is actually really great!
KOKONOI
alpha kokonoi is dominant and tends to mock you when you don't listen.
he wants to make you feel dumb, so you don't tempt anything by yourself.
what do you mean you can decide on your own? of course you can't, that's what kokonoi is here for.
now shut up and listen to your alpha for once. you think you can actually be smarter than him? he's sure you're lost if he's not here to guide you.
kokonoi is absolutely delighted by the fact that you're financially dependent on him. and he makes sure it stays that way : not letting you work and cutting all of your ties with the working world.
now he's your only support and he feels so much pride and happiness to know he's that needed by his precious omega.
he will buy you tons of gifts, money doesn't matter when it comes to you. praise him and show him your love, that's all he wants as a thank you!
he is possessive, don't get mistaken by his soft tone and gentle smile.
he'll probably never really get into a fight ; he'd rather ruin someone's life forever. either by using his money or his connections, you know kokonoi can do great things.
he lets your relatives alone though, he knows you would never forgive him. but that doesn't mean he won't threaten you to hurt them if you were to misbehave. of course he wouldn't touch a hair, but you don't need to know that<3
HANMA
worst alpha ever. I hate him sm
alpha hanma has a laidback behaviour, which could trick you into thinking he actually doesn't care about your whereabouts.
but you find out soon enough that you can't escape him.
he's a scent lover, and really possessive. this combo makes him super clingy in an unbothered way (if that makes sense).
always groping you lazily while inhaling your flowery scent, his grasp appears soft but it tightens the more you try to wriggle out of it.
mocks you like you're the stupidest omega on earth, he makes you feel so small and helpless that you sometimes don't even talk back.
and while he gets off the fun it gives him to have a bratty omega by his side, he also loves it when you're submitting yourself to him, never challenging his authority over you.
expect hanma to be absolutely shameless when it comes to sex. he's touching you anywhere anytime, flicking up your skirt and bending you over when you're cooking, pushing you down to your knees when you're out in a dark alley... hanma doesn't care and neither should you.
but your embarrassment, unable to retort anything at all because he's your alpha and he can do whatever pleases him, makes him want to ruin you even more!
IZANA
as his omega, you're not leaving anytime soon.
he probably has you shackled and locked inside a beautifully decorated room, meant for his omega's use only.
it's full of nest items, plushies he precociously chose himself, tons of clothes that smell like him and the food he brings you when you've been good.
the sight would be very pitiful to any outsider, but to izana you looked so perfect, throning over his apartment like a delicate princess.
you can't get out of this room and only izana is allowed to come inside. that means he's the only person you can talk to.
he's so scared to loose you, the only person he loves so much that he's being extra careful!
he actually hopes his vulnerable omega will come to love him as much as he loves you if he's the only one in contact with you.
surely you'll grow desperate for human touch and throw yourself in his arms, right?
forcefully scents you and uses a system of privilege to push you into acting good.
actually thinks he's the reason why you're being a bad omega with him and is reviewing everything he's done so far.
misbehave and he's leaving you on your own for days or even weeks, you won't know for how long and you also won't know if he'll at least come back to feed you.
now you're left in the dark and silence of your room, with nothing to do but overthink and sleep. your brain quickly becomes hazy and cloudy, your mental state not helping at all.
once he's back, you better apologise and beg for him to never let his dumb omega alone again. show him just how much you need him, he relishes on your neediness for him.
your anguished whining and pleading, along with your sad scent is enough of a proof that you don't need any more punishment.
he loves that his method worked on you and that you've grown to become so dependent on him<3 he'll have to be more careful in the future though, it seems his omega is more vulnerable than he thought:(
SANZU
now sanzu probably is the worst alpha actually (I was a bit harsh with hanma😒)
is 100% drugging you. he can't have his omega disobeying him and being so trashy with him when he's only trying to cuddle.
you become so docile once you've swallowed a couple of pills sanzu can't help but abuse it.
he's making you gulp down the strangest of drugs. they now messed with your head and you never complain at all!
you've become the most clingy omega and he's not complaining! your glossy eyes and blurred speech is just so cute, you messy but sweet scent is like a drug on its own, he can't resist you<3
sanzu is one to drag you basically anywhere with him. but of course you're not allowed to speak or look at anyone beside of him.
that why you keep your eyes glued to the ground. and when you're at one of his club and you're left all alone for a few minutes, it doesn't matter if you're being bothered or harassed : shut up and wait for your alpha. he's not far away anyway.
the alpha that was being annoying is shot dead the moment sanzu sees him within a perimeter of 10 metres from to you.
by now, everyone is accustomed to his antics and know to never talk to you.
he has so shame as well, and will force you to have sex basically anywhere if he feels like it. especially if someone was about to threaten his claim on you.
you're his, nobody should even look at his property wth.
now he's fucking you on the couch of the vip room of his club, the music blasting outside making you dizzy and his pheromones forcefully wetting your entrance.
sanzu will never let you go, he'd rather die than doing so<3
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lalunanymph · 11 months ago
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𖨆♡𖨆 ran haitani x fem!reader, hanma shuji x fem!reader
╰┈➤ yearning for revenge after the untimely death of your father, you come to discover an underground organization called bonten and how its executive may have all the answers you need. the big catch? you were the first ever girl that broke his heart.
: ̗̀➛ explicit smut, mentions of a murder, guns, mentions of drugs, fear play, prostitution, mention of heights, daddy kink, creampie, mild exhibitionism, pet names (princess), spit kink, murder, blood, gore, torture, joint breaking, angst, mentions of a past relationship, mentions of a body disposal, slut-shaming, language, smoking, drinking, MDNI
masterlist 🌙
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𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊 #𝟏
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The air tonight tasted of electricity, its charge sparking in your bloodstream.
Fidgeting in your skintight dress and boots, you wondered if you were a little overdressed considering how some of the girls milled around in skirts that barely covered their asses and crop tops that were just the barest suggestion of clothes upon their frames.
The bass boosting through the floors mimicked the palpitation of your heart and you steeled yourself, looking both ways before you crossed the street.
So, this was the infamous Haitani bar that everyone from your roommate, Kira, to her pimp was talking about. You could see why it generated much intrigue.
On the outside, the facade suggested a modest office building that boasted a helipad at its very top, like a flat cap over a square head. Rumour has it that the Haitanis liked to arrive to their own bar not in cars or even limos—but through their own private helicopter which gives them discreet entrance. The top floor, especially, was a cordoned-off area where only those who had a special pass could enter.
That, or to go in disguised as one of the many prostitutes Ran and Rindou hired to keep spirits up and the booze flowing all night long.
You had to hand it to them; those Haitani brothers were exceptionally good businessmen.
Tugging the hem of your dress down, you approached the bouncer who let you through with barely a glance at your ID. You frowned inwardly; shouldn’t security here be at its maximum capacity?
After all, Ran and Rindou were two of the most important Bonten executives—a position so feared that even the most hardened pimp would shudder at the name of Japan’s most notorious criminal organisation.
Downstairs, people were packed like sardines, girls hanging off random men’s laps or dancing in groups like a shoal of fish, bait for the sharks that lurked around the rooms.
You weren’t excused from their leering stares and kept your head down, sole mission in mind. In the elevator, you called for the highest level, the numbers on the keypad blinking every time you rose one floor higher. To calm yourself for what you had to do, you reached inside your purse for the faded photograph; your father’s smile bright in the palm of your hand.
I’ll do this for you, dad, was your silent promise. The elevator dinged and you walked towards the cordoned-off bar where the crowds were nonexistent, and all that stood between you and finding Ran Haitani was one stern looking bouncer. His muscles rippled almost threateningly under his suit, staring you up and down.
“No one is allowed to enter.”
You took in a deep breath and spoke in a low, but clear voice. “Haitani-san hired me.”
The guard arched a brow. “Which Haitani?”
Somehow, it felt like a trick question and when you answered Ran, it seemed that you had failed the test.
“Mr. Haitani is not the one that deals with hookers,” he all but growled, and despite the streaks of grey in his hair and noticeable age, you sensed without a doubt that he was able to manhandle you and toss you over the balcony railing if he so wished to.
Holding your ground, you gritted your teeth and forced out: "There must be some kind of mistake. I was requested to be here.”
The guard had evidently grown tired of this back and forth; he approached you and gripped your arm tightly, pushing you towards the elevator door. “Let go of me!” Your hunch was proven right; he was incredibly strong and did not let up, not even when you dug your heels in to impede him.
“I won’t tell ya again, miss,” he growled. “Please leave before I throw you off the fucking building myself.”
“One of his clients told me to be here!" You fought back, the desperation clawing up your throat.
His scowl deepened and a vein was threatening to pop from his temple. “Last chance. You’re gonna have to leave, miss.”
You physically and literally held your ground, gripping the railing with white knuckles. “Not until I see him.”
“Miss, I won’t ask you twice—“
“What’s going on here?”
As if he had turned to jelly, the guard released you and quickly folded into a bow. “Mr. Haitani, sir—“ you didn’t hear his babbling, your mind struggling to comprehend the deepness of that voice and how it brought back a surge of memories you could not ignore.
A smug smile, long, bleached-black hair that you loved running your fingers through, nights spent raiding the closest convenience stores, an empty phone log…
“… Ran?”
A beat of silence as he took in your face before the recognition set in.
“Y/N?”
He was different—no scratch that, he didn’t even look like his old self. Gone were the twin braids and dip-dyed bleached hair. Now, he sported a full hair of light purple locks that contrasted vividly with the frown that was etched on his face and the tattoo peeking underneath the collar of an expensive suit.
Before you could open your mouth, he reached out and gripped your shoulder, steering you towards the bar’s entrance.
“She’s with me.”
“I’m so sorry, Haitani-san, I—“ the guard’s splutters were not to be heard; Ran waved him off and trailed those hardened lilac eyes onto you. The press of his palm was warm on your bare skin.
“Didn't anyone warn you that this his bar isn’t a place for girls like you?”
You were surprised to say the least. It seemed as if those five years that you spent separated from him dissolved into nothing; he still spoke to you in that same infuriating manner like you hadn’t ghosted him out of the blue—like you hadn’t broken his heart.
“Girls like me?” For your credit, you were still as argumentative as ever. As his hard gaze bore into yours, you realised some things never changed.
Ran Haitani would always treat you like you were an errant child.
“My men are armed to the teeth and you could have walked out of here with more than a bruise,” was his retort. Your indignant anger faded a little when you eyed the tasteful bar decorations. It seemed like a different world existed up here compared to the crowded dance floor below. There was no thumping music, no drugs and no sharks waiting for you to let your guard down. Rather, bossa nova jazz music filtered over the speakers; even the people here were classier than you anticipated—all suits and dresses that tastefully showed off skin.
You stuck out like a sore thumb in your black bodycon and boots, and it appears you were not the only person who was aware of it. The women eyed you up and down, though the men were more discreet. But the one thing they all had in common? The moment it registered that Ran Haitani was beside you, all their gazes fell to the floor.
He led you to the outside bar where a few people mingled around, smoking cigars and joking amongst themselves in low tones. Ran chose a table closest to the balustrades. Immediately, two well-dressed waiters arrived to wipe down the table, set down some snacks as well as a bottle of whiskey—glowing almost amber in the half-light.
That bottle alone look like it could’ve cost more than your rent.
You sat down opposite him and watched as he removed a packet of cigarettes and a metal lighter. The click of it was loud in the silence and you didn’t know what compelled you to blurt out your next sentence, but it came out without a second thought, and you had to suffer the repercussions of his disbelief.
“Your guard didn't believe me when I told him I was a prostitute."
Those impassive lilac hues flickered onto you. “What?”
As if explaining yourself to a child, you spelled it out for him. “I’m a hooker, Ran.”
For a long moment, he did not speak. He reached forward to uncap the whiskey bottle, poured himself a cup and sat back in the plush chair. There was nothing on his face that indicated any real emotion he had towards his ex-girlfriend being in an unsavoury position, nor did he make fun of you for your new occupation. All he did was frown and said: “How’d that happen? You always said you wanted to go to business school and you’re pulling this type of shit?”
Something about the way he phrased that sentence made it feel like a slap to your face. “You don’t have to sound like my dad, Haitani.”
If there was one strange power you had over the feared Haitani brother, it would be the ability to make his blood boil with just a few words. "Huh? Do you need money? Is there someone pimping you out? What’s his name?”
You hadn’t expected him to launch into his righteous anger on your behalf, and you sat back, wide-eyed.
For Ran, he was in disbelief over how you had turned out in the five short years he lost contact with you. He had always admired your vision of climbing the corporate ladder and how you had mapped out the future together with him even knowing full well the dark path he had taken to build Bonten from the ground up together with his younger brother and a few other chosen men.
But, that was when you both were still fresh-faced twenty year olds and a novice to the hardships of life. In those years when you left him, he had climbed the ranks and claimed many, many lives to do so. His blood ran dirty with all the futures he had destroyed and you…
How did you end up like this?
You were always such a sweet thing; concern for others outweighing your need for self-preservation. A girl like you did not belong on the streets and the both of you knew it.
“I work for myself, Ran,” you clarified and he had to stop himself from shivering at how his name sounded on your lips. “I choose who I work with, when and how much I charge them.”
He was still at a loss, and the glass of whiskey he had ached for the whole evening seemed like contaminated water in this instance. Ran pushed it back and raised one perfectly groomed brow.
“Why?”
You fiddled with your fingers and stared out towards the scenery. If Ran had to choose one spot he could easily lose himself in, it would be this place. Rindou’s strategic choice of a bar faced the Tokyo skyline; from his perch, he could map out the outline of the Tokyo Exchange Building, a stout cube in the heart of the city. He could trace the rail lines, the jagged edges of the district of Roppongi where he and Rindou once reigned supreme.
“I… lost my dad,” you confessed. Similarly, he found himself at a loss too for what to say, his expression carefully construed to remain neutral. “He died shortly before we broke up. I… I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t know how to say it.”
The young executive tipped his whiskey around the glass and took a drag of his cig, unable to look you in the eyes. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he eventually said and followed up with another question which you could not easily answer.
“Is that why you dumped me?”
After five years of wondering, five years of searching out for answers and wracking his brain for something he might have done to piss you off, Ran was finally graced with the faltering of your expression.
He recalled stepping out of the elevator aching for a drink only to be confronted by the sight of someone who held the shape of you, a shape he could always easily map out even in the darkness. His heart had soared, but he tamed down the excitement, reasoning that of course it could not be you; he had done everything in his power to seek you out in those 1825 days he spent without you, where it seemed like you had dropped off the face of the earth.
Little did he know how the past could show up unannounced when one stopped searching for it. He still was not done trying to flay it apart and find out the truth.
“No, wait, scratch that,” his voice was rising in anger. “Is that why you ghosted me and blocked me on everything so I couldn’t reach out to you?”
You had always known Ran Haitani to wear his signature smirk; no matter if he was beating people up, stealing food from convenience stores or even bashing up boys taller than him with his baton; that same infuriating smile never faltered.
Until now.
Only you boasted the power to make the ever smug Ran Haitani drop his impassive facade to reveal a deep scowl. The words you practiced to explain to him all that had transpired in the past five years today seemed to elude you.
You could not reply to his interrogative questions and Ran sighed, cutting to the heart of things. “Why are you here?”
You bristled at his tone and glared towards the city view, involuntarily annoying him with your shifty reply and inability to tell him the truth.
“To enjoy the night sky.”
“No, fuck,” he gritted out and you held your breath. “Why are you really here, Y/N?”
A tremble of uncertainty passed between the both of you.
Fuck it. I'll just ask to see what his reaction is.
“I need a favour.”
Silence descended between both your tense forms. You had no idea what he was thinking or what his sudden loss of words entailed. All you sensed was that it didn’t bring you any good news.
But inwardly, you understood the gravity of what you were doing.
Picture this: you had a woman you swore to protect, to stay true to her because you both were madly in love with each other and one day, seemingly for no reason, she disappears and doesn’t pick up her phone or even answer her messages. What would you have done?
You knew, in the deepest pits of your conscience, that you were shameless; that you were nothing but a cold-hearted and calculating bitch for badgering a wounded man from your past for help when it was all your fault you turned out this way.
“A favour, eh?” He put out his cigarette and stared at you unblinkingly. “I'll give you a chance to ask it when you answer me this: How did a nice girl like you end up working the streets?"
You frowned at the accusatory tone he wore and glanced back down at your twined hands. “I…”
Your ex-boyfriend’s words were cutting you right down to the bone and you fought back the urge to cry. If it had been five long years Ran spent searching for a woman who had already lost herself, so what did he expect to find?
That you were the same girl who used to sing oldies in the middle of your shared kitchen wearing nothing but his shirt? Or, that you could coo over his wounds and patch them up, scolding him lightly to prioritise his safety?
No. That Y/N died the day you found your father in a pool of his own blood.
“I changed, Haitani.”
It seemed that Ran did not believe you. “Sure you did.”
Finally, you divulged the piece that was lingering in your mind, the final one that would give a full picture of the puzzle as to what happened in all those years you cut off contact with him.
“You would, too, if your father was murdered.”
A stifling quiet. “Huh?” Ran’s lilac eyes were piercing and all but shining with grim curiosity. “What happened?”
This was it. The final piece of the jigsaw puzzle you kept hidden from him; the pièce de résistance of how you ended up from being a good, hardworking girl to a scummy bedwarmer.
“I came back home one day after class and… our house had been broken into. H-he was in the kitchen—“ you spared the gory details and he did not press you for it. Instead, Ran lit one cigarette and passed it to you. You accepted it and breathed in the nicotine like it was fresh air, hoping that it would clear your mind.
“I'm sorry,” he said gruffly and followed your gaze towards Tokyo unfurling before your feet. You did not accept his apology, tears glimmering in your eyes from the unsuspecting pain still lingering in your soul. How you still were not over your father's death despite the years that had passed you by.
“But what I don’t get is why didn’t you tell me?”
If you could compare Ran’s anger to a flame, it would be a slow flickering light over a vat of gasoline. Sure, he was the most trigger happy brother, but he did it out of the genuine thrill of taking down his enemies—because certainty of what was black and white was always his constant companion. And in this instance, Ran did not know who was a friend or who was a foe.
“You fucking disappeared into thin air, Y/N.” A heavy disquiet fell over the both of you. “I searched for you, y’know? Thinking that it was a mistake; that you didn’t mean to leave. I wanted answers but the more I searched and dug up shit I realised something… maybe some answers just don’t want to be found.”
You took another drag of the cigarette, trying to keep the tremble out from your tone and hide your wet eyes by keeping your gaze off him. “I didn’t do it out of spite, Ran.”
“Then why’d you do it?”
That lachrymose needing to burst out into tears would not survive the truth. “I can’t answer that for now.”
Ran’s grip tightened around his glass. “So you think you can waltz in here, demanding to see me and I would give you everything you need? Stop the whole world for you again like how I used to?”
Anger flared through your chest, hot and insistent.
“Fuck—I’m not asking you to save me, Haitani! I’m just… I just wanna know…” your voice fell into a whisper and so did your hope. “I just wanna know who killed my dad and why... why’d they have to do it.”
You would have thought he would be more sympathetic, and not say, “He wasn’t a good man, Y/N. I know this because if he was, he wouldn’t have gone out that way.”
Part of you couldn’t believe he had said that, but this was Ran Haitani you were talking about; a man of rationalism and bruteness. His occupational hazard was leaving men like your poor father in that state. You pressed on.
“That’s why I needed to see you. To ask if you knew something.”
Those usual sleepy lilac eyes turned hardy like stone. “No.”
You could barely believe he was doing this, the anger coating the back of your throat. The city’s lights wavered in your periphery from your tears of desperation.
“W-what? What do you mean 'no'?”
He stood up, and people were glancing at the both of you; the crestfallen look on your face and the disproving one on his indicative of an argument. If you were in the right frame of mind, your cheeks would've warmed from how the both of you were causing a scene.
“I don’t know anything. Sorry. Can’t help you.”
Before you could hammer in your plea, he took his jacket off the chair and slung it over his arm, unable to even look at you.
“Wait—please!”
You stood up and rushed to his side, gripping his sleeve. A few women gasped at your audacity. It appeared you were gathering an even bigger audience from your stupid stunt—even the waiters carrying drinks and food paused in their tracks.
Ran ignored each of them and coolly glanced down at you with those infuriatingly beautiful eyes. He tugged his arm away and sneered down at your betrayed expression.
“Y/N, this isn’t something you want to get into.”
You grasped onto that little glimmer of truth he had unwillingly divulged, the wobble in your lower lip unmistakable.
“So, you do know something. You know who could have done this.”
Apparently, he registered his slip-up and he turned his face to glare at the ground, a mirthless chuckle leaving his lips. “I told you. I’m clueless.”
“Stop fucking treating me like a child, Ran!” Your outburst caught even you off guard and the air suddenly became stifling, despite the open sky staring down at your fury.
“You’ve always been like this! Y/N don’t do this or Y/N stop that like I’m some kind of—helpless child. I’m not, Haitani. I’ve seen shit." You were beyond desperate, trying to convince him to tell you the truth by giving up parts of your gory life for him to review.
"I’ve seen a man get shot where he stood, police dragging out mutilated bodies of the girls I work with from dumpsters—so many fucked up things. You don’t get to tell me that I can’t even know the truth when I... when I became like this just to find it!”
He did not entertain your callous words, lips pressed in a tight line.
"Sorry." At least he gave you the courtesy of a final apology before turning around to walk away.
“Haitani—“
You ran after him and gripped his arm, refusing to let him go.
In your mind, the images of your father's mangled body flashed, exacerbating your exasperation.
“Fuck!” he snarled, wrenching his arm away and staring down at you with such a virulent expression, you were almost scared if you didn't know that Ran Haitani was physically incapable of hurting you. “I’ll say this one last time, Y/N—drop this now before it’s too late.” The tension swirled around both your taut figures, taunting you with the urge to lean in and bridge the gap.
Unadulterated stubbornness clashed with the sudden gleam in his eye. You were close enough to smell the whiskey and nicotine on his breath.
Your baser instincts took over, your body trying to convince him in a way your words could not.
“Y/N—mmph.”
Your lips collided with his, hands clawed to the front of his shirt, pulling him in deeper. It wasn’t a seduction as it was a last desperate pitch to get him to listen—and the only way Ran would ever listen to you was when he was quiet. He drew you closer, one hand around your neck and the other on the small of your back. The air in the bar got thicker and you wrapped your arms around his neck, drinking the familiarity of his solid body pressed to yours. He pulled back slightly, lips swollen and shook his head, a lazy and exasperated smirk worming its way across those delectable lips.
“You’re so infuriating.” As he spoke, he found your zipper, dragging it down and you squeaked, darting your eyes towards the group of spectators who were all but gawking. Ran was brazen, but he wouldn’t be as bold to fuck you in front of a bunch of people… right?
Ran followed your line of sight and clicked his tongue, understanding your silent mortification.
“Fuck off! The bar’s closed!” he called over the easy music. As if he were a king decreeing his rigid word, the bouncers ushered the patrons away from the balcony, the lights dimmed low and even the employees were forced to leave the premises. The head guard bowed to him, closing the doors with a resolute click. Just from his bidding alone, the both of you were left alone.
Suddenly, all your bravery had dried up and you glanced down at his broad chest, unable to meet his eyes.
“Not so bold now, huh, princess?” he drawled and like a cat toying with a mouse, he cornered you against the balustrade with both arms caged around your body.
It was too quiet, the air too thick with electricity. You swallowed hard and looked up into those eyes you had found solace in so many times before your world was turned on its head. There was no denying it—you missed him with every fiber of your body and the beat of lust that had ignited from his lips on yours roared into a fire that threatened to incinerate the rest of your self-control.
“We’re alone now,” he murmured, running his nose down your neck, inhaling your light scent. “Was this your plan all along?”
“No,” the quake in your voice seemed like you were lying.
“You know I don’t like liars, Y/N,” he said, voice gravelly and deep, causing shivers to run down your spine. He was far too close, his indulgent scent of coffee, musk and tobacco was seeping into your every pore; you could not stop yourself from pitching forward and pressing your face to his neck to hide the wobble in your lower lip.
Ran sighed and irritably flicked his jacket onto the floor, the material making a heavy thud sound.
The press of his warm palms on the small of your back deteriorated the last of your hesitation.
“Ran…” you licked your dry lips, finding a shred of courage to look up at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Want it.”
“Want what?” His purring deep tone made your knees weak. If it weren’t for the cool stone and his arms around you, you would’ve melted onto the ground to join his pristine jacket.
Lower lip trembling and thighs clenching, you whispered, “I want you.”
Ran’s reaction was instantaneous. He picked you up by your thighs and placed you onto the balustrade where a ten-floor drop yawned below you. Squeaking in fear, you involuntarily wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his chest again.
“Ran—!”
“Don’t worry, baby,” he moaned, kissing down your neck. “Ain’t gonna drop you.”
Those hot stamps in the shape of his lips were messing with your resolve and you groaned, head was thrown back, only the steel ropes of his arms and your thighs tensing around his waist anchoring you to safety. If you were a ship besieged in the middle of the storm, Ran was the roiling sea under you, ready to suck you into his depths.
“Someone can see us,” you hissed, knowing full well that if any passersby looked up, they would catch sight of two lovers on the balcony. He hummed, shaking his head with that shit-eating grin still etched across his lips.
“Baby, Rin and I own this bar. They ain’t seeing anything. ‘Sides, if they open their mouths, they won’t live to tell the tale.”
The wind whipped through your hair, stinging your eyes and you squeezed them closed, tilting your head back once he reached the valley of your breasts. Growling like a lion who had been held too long in captivity, he tugged the stretchy fabric down, exposing the lacy bra you wore to his heated stare.
“Shit,” he swore and planted more of those pussy-clenching kisses down the length of your throat.
“Ran,” you mewled, the heel of your boots digging into his lower back. Lost in his touch, you almost didn’t feel him tip you back, and you screamed once you felt the near loss of gravity, wildly scrambling to bury your white-knuckled grip in the back of his vest and hair.
“Ran!”
He secured his arms tighter around your waist, chuckling lowly into your ear. “Look at you—such a filthy little slut who wants my cock so badly she doesn’t care if she’ll fall.”
Rather than cowering in fear, his words served to heighten your arousal and you humped your drooling core across his cloth-covered bulge, trying your best to get as much friction as you could onto your aching pussy. “Oh, please,” you whimpered, pawing at his tie, removing it swiftly and throwing it down onto the cobblestone floor. Panting lightly, you managed to mutter, “N-need this.”
You hastily unbuttoned his vest to expose the crisp white dress-shirt he wore, making quick work of the first three buttons. Your mouth chartered a path from his chin to his neck, sloppily working in kisses mingled with frantic sucks of his skin, leaving reddened spots close to his gang tattoo. Trembling fingers touched the design, remembering the first day he came back home to eagerly show you the press of ink in his skin. 
We’re gonna be rich, baby.
The both of you had seemed so young back then and a part of you ached for an innocence that was gone too soon.
His low groans resonated in your ear and you squeaked again when he used one arm to hold you fast to his chest while the other wormed its way under the hem of your dress, feeling for your panties. Catching two nimble fingers on the seat of the flimsy material, you felt him twist it and before you could stop him—
Riiiip.
As if your panties were nothing more than a sugar in hot water, they disintegrated into lacy tatters on the floor.
“Those were my favourite pair,” you moaned when he returned the favour and bit down on the delicate skin behind your ear.
“Fuck—will get you new ones,” he breathed heavily, tongue tracing the shell of your sensitive lobe. “I'll get you a whole wardrobe of lacy, naughty things. You want that?”
You murmured something that sounded like yes Daddy and he grinned, already loving how easily you slipped into your submissiveness. If there was one thing Ran loved more than anything in the world, it would be to bend you over anywhere he wished—over his knee, the head of the couch, even pressing you onto the hood of his car—and take you then and there. You were always such a pliant, sweet, little thing for him, and it made his blood boil to think of how much you had denied him in these past five years.
Rough hands tugged down the cups of your lacy bra, palming the plush flesh of your breasts. “Missed these fucking tits,” he muttered lewdly and before you could chastise him, he bent his head forward, almost tilting you at a dangerous angle just to latch his mouth onto your nipple. Your heart was beating wildly, your hair flowing freely in the wind. Every stroke of his tongue on your tender buds made you moan wantonly, and all you could do was stare at that angelic face and sinful mouth working one turgid nub and then another with that maddening tongue, your nipples soon shiny with spit.
In the half-dark, the sharp points were silhouetted against the city lights obscenely. A soft hum indicated he was pleased with his handy work.
He tugged you closer to his chest and attacked your mouth, numbing your complaints with those maddening kisses. Ran held your bottom lip open with that same hand that ripped your panties and a globe of spit left his mouth and dripped onto your waiting tongue. The instruction was implicit: Swallow. You did, an obedient plaything to his wills.
“Bet you liked that, don’t you, you little slut?” he crooned and your cheeks flushed, your hand moving down to cup the front of his slacks.
“Stop teasing,” you huffed and he grinned widely.
His free hand wandered down your thigh, finding your bare pussy, gently rubbing your already soaked lips.
“Ran—!”
He sensed your hesitance to accept his ministrations when your body tensed and he pressed his forehead to yours, lilac locks tickling the bridge of your nose.
“Give in fully to me, baby.”
You didn’t answer him, on a high from how he was tracing your folds, the gentle way he dipped his index finger teasingly into your clenching hole.
“Mm, your pussy seems to want this,” in a firm but silky tone, “I know you want this.”
You did not have to answer him; your arched back and the ripple of your walls around his intrusive finger more than gave him enough of an answer. “Gonna make up for not fucking you in those five years.”
You were close to a delirious fever pitch, needing him to finally fuck you. “Ran, more—please.”
“Already begging?” He slipped another finger in, instantly finding your sweet spot and pressing down on it. Hard. “Hmm, so eager.”
You jolted as if you were touched by a live wire. “Want you!” In a softer, supplicant tone you whined, “Need you—please.”
Ran could not say no, especially when you begged so nicely. He unbuttoned his slacks and slipped his hard length out, the familiar curve, veins and head making you almost salivate with joy. In one swift thrust, he sheathed himself into your heat, the both of you moaning with relief.
He swore that you looked like a fallen angel in that moment; your flushed cheeks, wide eyes, bare tits that jiggle with every slam of his pelvis into yours, getting him to almost believe in God.
Almost.
Your eyes were closed, head lolling back and he sensed that if he let you go and you fell to your demise, you would probably die with a satisfied grin on your face. But, of course, he wouldn’t do it—Ran Haitani would be a fool to let his favorite plaything go.
“My cock got you drunk, baby?” That low, rasping voice gave you goosebumps and all you could do was mewl, hands tangling with his lilac locks, your desperate gaze pinning him to the spot with begrudging awe. Years of knowing every dip, divot and curve on your body made him keenly aware of the cues you would give off—his most favorite green light in the world, one that signaled you were close to a release.
“You gonna cum for me like this?” One hand found your clit, strumming it in time with his clean thrusts. “Gonna cream all over my cock in front of the whole city?”
“M’gonna—“ Cut off by a choking moan, all you could do was squeeze your eyes tight, only able to take this ride of your life.
The sloppy meeting of his cock in your silken walls mingled with both your harsh breathing and Ran felt that telltale stir in his balls that he was going to fucking blow his load and all you could do was take it. He didn’t care if you weren’t on birth control or if this was what you did with the filthy men that you picked up on the streets; in this instance, your pussy was his, and he would show that pretty little cunt that he alone was her master.
“Yeah? Do it.” He goaded as his thumb rubbed frantic circles on your engorged and sensitive nub. “Fucking cum for me, princess.”
You jerked in his grip like a puppet strung too tightly and lost all restraint and shame, tossing your head back with a scream of his name, the sight so fucking magnificent in the haze of the flickering lights behind you that Ran thought himself to be in love again.
Every muscle in your body seized and his most favorite ones—the walls of your pussy—practically milked him dry. Ran was not even the least bit disgruntled that he was panting like a bitch in heat, fucking the last of his cum deep into your cervix.
The both of you took a second to just breathe.
Thank fuck for the open air—the smell of sex was sure to permeate every pore of his body, just like that tantalising vanilla perfume you wore.
Ran was gentle when he brought you back to your feet, toeing the scraps of what used to be your panties into a corner. Memories of how clingy you could be after every round of sex burned through his mind and he halfway expected you to cling onto him like a sleepy koala. That assumption was dashed when you stepped away from him, tucking your tits back into your bra and lifting the straps back in place.
Despite his silent disappointment, he helped you straighten the hem of your dress and you reached out to button back his vest; a team effort at getting decent once more.
Ran sat back down onto the plush chair, and this time, you sank into his lap, uncapping the bottle of whiskey and pouring a fresh glass.
You passed him the amber liquid and he took it from you with a nod.
“You alright?”
Sheepishly, you picked up his cigarettes and lighter, taking a moment to spark the flame before touching it to the butt of your white stick, the dancing flicker imprinted in the back of his eyelids whenever he blinked.
“Yeah.”
He drank and you smoked. Ran didn’t care that his seed was seeping out and staining his slacks, nor did he care that a bit of your ash fell onto his leg. He merely brushed it aside, wishing he had the courage to mimic that same motion with a stray piece of hair kissing your forehead.
“Usually I’d charge you a hundred an hour, y’know.”
Humour. You always used a joke to deflect the seriousness of a situation.
“Tell me about your life on the streets.” It wasn’t a request, and you could hear the steel under his soft tone, this one attempt to fill in the blanks of your new life something he found himself immensely curious on.
“It’s good money,” you sighed, and took another drag, the smoke unfurling past your kiss-swollen lips. “I live just by Roppongi with another hooker. She was the one who made this lifestyle sound so glamorous.”
In a softer tone, you held a faraway look in your gaze that was trailing across the city line. “The first time I did it, I sobbed like a baby afterwards. Felt dirty. But, you eventually get used to it—the leers, the pawing. I always made them wear rubber, though, so you don’t have to worry.”
He tightened his grip on the glass and swallowed down his disapproval with another mouthful of liquor. This is not you, Y/N.
You gave him a small smile and Ran bit back the urge to taste the nicotine off your tongue. “You’re the first guy I’ve ever let raw me in a long time. Well technically, you’re still the first guy.”
He tried not to let his surprise show, preferring to huff a silent laugh. A memory of you, five years younger, head on his chest and a sleepy confession passing your lips, flashed through his mind. I know this is my first time and all… but holy shit—you blew my brains out, Haitani.
Ran sat down the glass and wrapped his arms around you, perching his pointed chin on your shoulder. “I usually don’t help hookers… but I’ll make an exception for ya.”
You stubbed out the cig onto the stone wall, dusting the ash from your fingers. “Don’t pull my leg.”
Stubborn bitch.
“Nah. I’m serious,” he said, grin growing wider at the surprise settling onto your features. “I’ll see what I can find.”
He nudged you off his lap and picked up his jacket, shaking the dirt off from the expensive material. From his pocket, he procured a stiff card. “Here’s my number. Call me if you need anything.”
You turned the square in your fingers like it was a rare diamond you were studying, eyes shining. He was about to leave you alone with your thoughts when a soft call of his name punctured through the night like the clicking of a gun.
“Ran?”
The tall, Bonten executive swiveled back to face you, and he almost wished he didn’t. If he thought you were gorgeous in the throes in your orgasm, it was nothing compared to how you were looking at him now.
Swallowing back against the panic rising in his chest, he fixed you with a neutral gaze. “Hmm?”
Your answering smile was almost tender. “Thank you.”
He swore his heart skipped a beat.
And in that instance, a single, shred of doubt blossomed in his mind as he mulled over on the thought that if helping you was the right thing to do.
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“Alright, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”
The stench of blood was thick in his nose, but Ran never took his eyes off the rivulets of red streaming into the man’s mouth. They had found him by the wharf and kidnapped him at gunpoint, bringing him down to Sanzu’s secret hideout to keep wandering eyes and ears from telling on them to Mikey. They were already in the midst of evading a drug bust and the leader of Bonten did not need this side quest to clutter his already burdened plate.
Ran had sworn them all to secrecy and here they were; Sanzu probably somewhere getting high off his fucking mind and Rindou beside him, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up and cracking his knuckles for another round.
“Wait, no—argh!”
Like breaking a biscuit in half, Rindou dislocated the man’s other finger joint, his other four twitching helplessly in abject agony. If there was one person he could trust to torture someone without spilling blood, it would his younger brother. The man spat out a globe of red and whimpered.
Well… maybe a tiny bit of blood had to be involved.
Ran’s voice was low and grim. “Answer, now. Name, location, or description.”
“I can’t tell you,” the bald-headed man gasped and flinched when Rindou bore down on him again. “Please! He’ll kill me if he finds out.”
The younger but no less feared Haitani brother wrapped two fingers around the underling's thumb. “Say, do you know what happens when you break someone’s thumb? Unlike the index or middle finger, it doesn’t heal. You know that? The ligament here—” he pressed the soft skin between the man’s index and thumb hard, his choked screams echoing across the decrepit walls. “—is all but paralysed if someone’s thumb snaps.”
Rindou shrugged and Ran had to bite back a laugh at how terrified the man looked. “Gonna be hard to explain to your boss how you can’t even shoot a Glock if you got no thumbs, huh? What are they gonna do to you—make you hold their cigarettes instead with your wrists? Kinda pathetic if you ask me.”
“No, please—”
“Last chance,” Rindou intoned in his usual bored fashion. “Name, location or description.”
The man threw his head back, his bound hands twitching, his thumb ransomed in Rindou’s unyielding grip. Eventually, he decided that the fate of his ligaments must’ve been more important; if this asshole was on his team, Ran would have shot him between the eyes with no hesitation at how easily he gave up his leader’s name.
“Kisaki Tetta.”
Fuck!
The two brothers shared a glance. You wanna do this? Rindou asked silently through a raised brow. Ran shrugged, as if to say, looks like we gotta do it, man.
Before the man could exhale in relief that his thumb was safe, Ran whipped out his gun and shot him point blank in the head. Warm flecks of blood and brain like the bursting of an overripe fruit splattered across his and Rindou’s faces. The shot echoed across the walls, the shell clattering onto the ground. The smell of smoke and blood hung in the air and Ran grunted, striding angrily towards the entrance of the warehouse, fumbling for his lighter.
“You really wanna do this?” Rindou easily caught up with his older brother, strings of blood caught in his purple mullet. He looked in a desperate need of a shower.
“I promised her, Rin.”
The younger Haitani resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Behind him, he heard Sanzu’s maniacal laughter and no doubt his superior would make sure that still-warm body would find its way down into the depths of the river; that man’s name, history and legacy wiped away together with the current. Despite his position, Bonten’s number two found extreme pleasure in cleaning up after the goriest of scenes and who was Ran to deny him his fun?
“Yeah, but she dumped you last time. You passed that?”
Ran leaned against his McLaren, a twin model of Rindou’s car but in jet black rather than muted silver. “You said it yourself—it’s all in the past.”
Rindou stole a white stick from his brother and stuck it between his teeth, grunting. “I really hope you know what you’re getting into. Kisaki’s gonna be a bitch to get through.”
Ran inhaled the curls of smoke in a rendition of a sigh. “It’s not impossible.”
“All for her, huh?”
The older Haitani narrowed his eyes and Rindou sensed when to back off. The story of his brother and his ex-girlfriend was one that he didn't have the full facts to. All he knew was that you upped and left one day and never reached out to Ran again.
Rindou snorted inwardly. As much as it hurt Ran’s ego to be left before he could do the leaving, he could see how his brother was clearly still in love with you.
Poor bastard.
“No. Her dad was a good man. I don’t know what shit he got himself in with Kisaki of all people but it wouldn’t hurt to find out more.”
Rindou stared off into the harbor, inhaling his next drag deeply. “Why?”
He had expected Ran to snort or brush him off when any mention of emotion was brought into the ring. Not to look at him with burning eyes and a hopeless sneer.
“The look on her face, man. It was like… like she didn’t have a will to live anymore. Not until she was telling me about him. Fuck, I mean… I gotta at least try.”
As much as Rindou was itching to knock some sense back into his brother, he thought about you and how you were like a rock to him all those years ago.
Once upon a time, Rindou was pretty sure that Ran was going to marry you; Bonten was a second priority to him, the first being the only woman the older Haitani had ever loved. The day you left was the day the last shred of Ran's humanity died.
After that, his brother was never the same again.
“Fuck—fine. But only because I’m actually related to you. If it was anyone else I would’ve left your ass out in the cold.”
A shadow of that lovesick grin that had been missing these past five years tugged on the corners of his lips, eliciting a sudden surge of nostalgia in the younger Haitani's chest.
“Thanks, Rin.”
Rindou rolled his eyes and stamped out his cigarette with the tip of his shoe.
“Yeah, yeah. Fuck off.”
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“So, you’re the flavour of the month.”
You turned towards the unexpected, smug voice and found a young woman with red-painted lips sneering at you.
The same bossa nova music tinkled in the background and you tightened your denim jacket around your shoulders to ward off the frostiness of her forced smile.
“Excuse me?”
“Ran Haitani—you’re trying to land him.”
That glint in her eye was familiar. This woman was jealous and rather than lashing out at your ex-boyfriend, she was egging you on. Must’ve been an ex-fling, by the looks of it. You snorted inwardly. Unlucky bitch.
“No, I’m not trying to land him at all,” you retorted mildly and resisted the urge to flip her off. “I’m just using him for sex.”
A low chuckle broke through the tension and your eyes widened at another face from your past. Sleepy lilac eyes, a languid smile and a shaggy mullet the same hue as his brother’s locks. Rindou Haitani stood before you right in the flesh.
“Damn. Good to see you still have that mouth on you, Y/N.”
You threw one last glare at that woman who had scampered away the moment a Haitani was nearby and rolled your eyes. A playful smile teased your lips; you always had a good relationship with Rindou, and though he was a year younger than you, he didn’t find the need for formalities and you admired him for that.
After all, keeping up pretenses could be exhausting.
“Nice to meet you again, Rin.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he waved off your grin with a lazy one of his own. “Cmon, Ran’s up at the deck. Heard things got a little… heated there.” He let you hit his shoulder just like old times and you chuckled at his audacity. Like older brother, like younger brother.
“Shut up, Haitani.”
He wrapped an arm around you in a familial way. “Grumpy ass bitch.”
Rindou dropped his arm the moment Ran came into view. The deck was once more empty, the patrons forbidden from entering this space now that the two owners were here and wanted their privacy.
Ran’s lilac eyes roamed across your features and he shot you a grin. “Hey. We got the info you’re searching for.”
Your heart sped up and you sank down on the plush chair where Rindou had gathered, hands laced over your lap. “You did?” Ran nodded and sat next to you, the heat of his body radiating comfort despite the tension, and if Rindou’s eyes were not on the both of you, you would have laid your head on his shoulder, if not just to feel its broad strength underneath your cheek.
“Kisaki was the one who ordered your father’s death.”
That name was unfamiliar to you; none of the other girls you worked with who serviced gang members had ever mentioned a Kisaki. Ran sensed your palpable confusion. “He runs a new organisation—Valhalla 2.0. It used to be one of the top delinquent groups years ago, together with Toman. He’s been trying to revive it back to its glory days.”
Your silence perturbed both brothers though they did not show it. They’ve both been trained for the longest of time in the art of observation to determine someone’s next move and from the look on your face, it seemed that you were steeling yourself for a hard decision. However, they didn't expect what you would say next.
“I guess I’ll have to infiltrate it.”
“It won’t be easy,” Rindou said after a moment of silence, leaning back against the chair, an edge in his dark gaze.
“You’ll have to be trained,” Ran supplied.
Another twist of your hands. “I never thought it would be. But I’ll do it—for him.” Rindou must’ve known who you were referring to, most likely hearing it from Ran, as he did not ask any further questions.
Ran was more cautious of the two brothers. “You’re gonna do this on your own?”
“I have to,” you bowed your head towards both brothers so they couldn’t see the tears coruscating in your eyes. “Thank you for your help. I am indebted to you both.” Sensing that your short time together with them was up, you stood up and meant to walk away. This was all the help you would ask from them—you couldn’t expect anything more.
Any bit of intelligence in the underground world that all three of you belonged to came with a harsh price, and you had no doubt as to how the brothers had to dirty their hands to get you this information. The last thing you wanted was to overstep on their kindness.
“Wait.”
You paused.
It was Ran who asked, “How’d you like a spot in Bonten?”
Heart in your throat, you almost thought you were hallucinating from the heights and the smoke. “Bonten?” you repeated slowly.
Ran nodded, flashing you a small smile, one that reminded you of the same sheepish grin he wore whenever he bought you your favourite flowers. “We’ll train you up, get you an entry point and then you’ll strike. Sounds fair?”
This was more than fair; Ran was literally handing you your revenge on a silver platter and you would be a fool to deny this offer.
“Deal.”
Later when you had gone back to Roppongi and it was just the two brothers and their closing bar, Rindou broached the topic with him. “So, you’re just gonna Rescue Armour your little girlfriend like Pepper Potts so she can do your dirty work?”
Ran tore his eyes away from the skyline and snorted.
“She’s not my girlfriend. And second of all, who still watches Marvel movies?”
Rindou sensed it would be useless to fight with his brother once his mind was made up and he only hoped that Mikey would turn a blind eye to this. 
Who knows? Perhaps once you infiltrated Valhalla and brought Kisaki down to the dirt where he belonged, Mikey might give them both a big enough raise to open another bar; this time one in the heart of the district they grew up in.
“Apparently not losers like you.”
Ran snorted and touched his suit pocket where his trusty baton was, much to his younger brother’s annoyance. “How’d you like the taste of steel on your ass, Rin?”
“Ew. Save that kinky shit for your girl, man.”
“She’s not my girl.” Another weak denial. Fuck, Ran was getting shittier at lying day by day; Sanzu would be disappointed in him.
“And I’m the fucking Queen of England.”
“Fuck off.”
Yup. His brother was completely and utterly whipped for you. Rindou reached out to flick Ran’s forehead, a smirk replacing his usual languid smile.
“Simp.”
a/n. feedback and comments are appreciated. even though this is a reuploaded fic lmao
© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.
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buccini555 · 10 months ago
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𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬/𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲
How would they react to the news that their girlfriend ended her own life?
A n g s t H e a d c a n o n s !
𝐹𝑡. Manjiro Sano, Izana Kurokawa, Kakucho Hitto, Ran Haitani, Rindou Haitani and Baji Keisuke
Requested by: My bestie ♡
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𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨
At the exact moment he received the notice announcing that his girl was in the hospital after an attempt to take her own life, Manjiro did not hesitate to go to the place at the same time, so when he arrived at the hospital, the first thing he did was try to find out the condition of his beloved, until then, still hoping to find her well again.
As soon as he saw one of the doctors pass him in that freezing hallway, Manjiro immediately questioned how the girl was, "S-she's okay, isn't she? How is she?" Insistently, he questioned, however, the doctor only gave the news that the girl had not survived her to injuries.
At that same time, Manjiro felt as if his world was collapsing, he couldn't even believe it and for a brief moment, he still begged for that fact to be nothing more than a simple mistake, despite that, when part of him accepted what had really happened, the boy felt completely apathetic, as if some kind of emptiness took over him, after that event, Manjiro was never the same or could come back to his normal state, all he felt was guilt.
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𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚
"Baby?" He looked for his loved one in every room of that house, until he entered the bedroom and saw water running under the bathroom door, tension spread throughout his body, but he did not lack the courage to open that same door.
When faced with such a scene, Izana hurried to try to save her, even doing anything at that moment, he couldn't believe his own eyes when he saw that it was already too late, even trying to stay in hope.
Although he could still save her life, the boy burst into tears when he realized that there was nothing left that could bring his beloved back.
After that day, Izana was never the same, becoming even more closed in his own world and carrying the guilt he condemned himself for not having arrived sooner to avoid all that tragedy.
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𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨
Upon receiving the news that his loved one had just been hospitalized, the boy left everything behind, overcome by worry, he could barely think about what he would do if something bad actually happened.
When he arrived at the place, he immediately went to find out about the girl's condition, but, as soon as he learned the worst news he could receive, Kakucho just refused to accept that she hadn't resisted.
Alone, sitting in an empty corridor of a hospital, still in denial, he remained at the door of the room where his loved one was, when he cruelly realized that he would never see her alive again, he could not control his incessant crying, sitting on that floor, blaming himself for not having saved her from herself, he would definitely never be able to feel joy again, no longer caring about being alive or not, after all, after that day, the boy no longer felt anything.
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𝐑𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢
Finding his beloved's absence strange when he arrived home, something like an intuition made the heart of the tallest one feel distressed, for this reason, it didn't take him long to go up the stairs and look for her, the moment he opened the bedroom door, he saw her, but not as he wanted and then, the blood spread on the floor announced the tragedy that had occurred. "Shit... Shit!" The boy held the girl on his lap and took her to the hospital, believing that he could still save her.
Pacing insistently from side to side, Ran waited in anguish of worry, however, once he could finally be notified of the condition of his gentle girl, he could not believe that she simply had not resisted.
"She's gone... I couldn't save her, I failed." He repeated to himself sitting in one of the hospital chairs, Ran couldn't shed a tear or simply have any reaction other than blaming himself for not having made her stay, even if he had already accepted that he would never see her again, he still He refused to accept that she had left in such a cruel way, so this fact directly affected him, making him completely empty and with a coldness he had never seen before.
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𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢
"C'mon, don't do this to me, wake up, please, wake up..." Holding the girl in his arms, he did his best to try to save her and have time to take her to the hospital, but his hopes were destroyed when it happened realizing that she was leaving before his own eyes, even though he didn't want to and couldn't accept that he would lose her that night, Rindou hugged her, still trying to make her get rid of those medications, despite all his efforts, he instinctively He knew she was gone when he felt his skin turning cold.
"Baby? Baby, please, wake up!" He began to cry compulsively when he saw her leave before his eyes and in her arms she rested, Rindou just begged for her forgiveness for not having saved her and even if the girl could return to forgive him, the sameHe would carry that pain and guilt for the rest of his life and he did so, Rindou was never able to forgive himself.
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𝐁𝐚𝐣𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞
"S-she... tell me, tells me how she is, now!" Arriving at the hospital after receiving such shocking news, Baji immediately went to find out about the girl's condition, no matter how much he tried to control himself or just remain calm, he could not deny himself that he expected the worst, and when unfortunately his intuition did not made a mistake, Baji could not accept that he had lost his beloved so unexpectedly.
Sitting on the hospital floor, he just begged for it to be a mistake or a lie. "...She's fine, this...this can't be real, it's a fucking nightmare." He repeated, despite this, when he realized that it had really happened, his heart broke instantly, the pain caused by the loss of the girl being one of the worst things he could feel.
After that fact, Baji started to get into even more trouble to try to dispel all that feeling and the longing that that girl left behind, becoming a danger even to himself, Keisuke never went back to being who he was.
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mbbmz · 3 months ago
Note
if you’re still taking requests, would you be open to doing an angst ask? Tokyo Revengers boys with a gf who gets seriously hurt or dies because of a rival gang or something like that? I don’t mind which characters but I really love Mitsuya!
Hello honey! So I never really wrote angst, but I tried for you. You said you liked Mitsuya, here some Mitsuya food! Also did Rindou bc why not. Rindou’s part is kinda messy bc I wanted to write too much things-
Warning : Angst/no comfort, depictions of injuries, death
Mitsuya
He was running in the street, a frown replacing his usual calm expression. He had left in the middle of a Toman meeting, but at this point he didn’t care.
He had received a call from your best friend, telling him you were beaten up roughly. In his mind, he knew. He knew this was because of him, of his membership to Toman.
By the time he arrived at the hospital, he was breathless. He frantically searched for your room, a now panicked look on his face. He finally arrived in front of your room, anxious of what he would find inside. Were you even awake? Would you hate him for what happened to you? For not being there to protect you?
Eaten by guilt and remorse, he opened the door, and nothing could have prepared him to what he found.
Your best friend, crying loudly next to your limp body, your skin covered in blue and purple. He got closer, almost mechanically, silently taking your swollen hand in his.
Your heartbeat on the monitor resonated in the room, getting slower, weaker, until any noise was replaced by a loud beep.
His eyes widened. What was this sound?.. What did that mean?.. He asked himself, bathing in denial. Because he knew what that meant, yet he didn’t want to accept it. He squeezed your hand, shaking your shoulder as if you’d magically wake up and smile at him, like you always did.
But your smile was gone, and so were you.
Rindou
He wasn’t paying attention to the minutes, the hours passing as he sat in the white, lifeless room.
He had one single missed call from his brother, who must have understood where he was when he didn’t respond.
The first time he came to see you, your body was in poor state. Bruises and broken bones, even damaged organs. He couldn’t believe his eyes for a moment.
Now, the bruises were gone, the blue on your body replaced by a pale, blemish color. It made him sick to his stomach. How much it must have hurt, and he wasn’t even fucking there.
It would have been different if he had been there. He would have protected you. But no, he was at a fucking Tenjiku meeting, ignoring your calls, too busy to spare you a minute.
What kind of boyfriend was he?
He pinched the bridge of his nose, if he had answered, he would have heard your voice, your beautiful voice one last time.
No. Surely he would hear it again. Surely.
But the days passed, and each time he entered the room to see you still unconscious, he swore a piece of his sanity was leaving him.
Your hand was getting thinner and thinner, the IV barely sustaining you. He could feel your bones every time he touched you. And it hurt.
A single tear rolled on his cheek. This wasn’t a life. This was far from the life he promised you. All those moments he wanted to spend with you, going to dates, kissing you, touching you, all this would now only exist in his imagination.
Deep down, he knew. He knew you’d never wake up. Yet he wouldn’t admit it. Not until your heartbeat on the monitor would stop. He’d come everyday, staying beside you until a nurse threw him out.
He’d come everyday, until you took your last breath.
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candyeager · 2 days ago
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𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎
— sanzu haruchiyo x fem!reader
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PART TWO 10.1k words
short summary. in which your heartbreak over Mikey pulls you into the dangerous and irresistible orbit of Bonten's Number Two, Haruchiyo Sanzu. warnings. sanzu haruchiyo is his own warning, graphic violence, substance abuse, toxic/manipulative relationships, explicit sexual content, depression & self-destructive behaviour, strong language. tags. female reader insert, bonten au, tsundere!sanzu, ex-boyfriend!mikey, angst with a happy ending, slow burn, heavy pining/yearning.
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Manjiro Sano never hurts you—not physically, at least—though the emotional havoc he's wreaked has left you unraveling. But what you face now is something entirely different. 
Haruchiyo Sanzu's grip is iron-clad, dragging you away from Mikey's door with no regard for your protests. His fingers dig into your wrist like vices, the pressure biting deep into your skin until the pain is sharp and throbbing. It radiates up your arm, but even that ache is dull compared to the hollow devastation gnawing at your chest. The image of Mikey with her—so close, so intimate—burns behind your eyelids every time you blink.
It's as though the world around you has ceased to exist. You can't even register the hallways passing by as Sanzu hauls you through them, his erratic pace nearly causing you to stumble. You feel like a ragdoll in his grasp, powerless, your heart beating out of sync with reality.
Kakucho's voice filters through the numbness. "Sanzu... what are you doing?"
There's concern in his tone, but he stays planted where he is, as if crossing that line would be dangerous. 
Sanzu doesn't slow, doesn't even glance at him. His lips curl into a sneer as cold as the concrete walls. 
"Taking care of a stray," he bites, yanking you closer as though you might slip from his grip.
The words sting, but not as much as what follows.
Kakucho's frown deepens, but he's hesitant. "You sure you wanna do that? She's—"
Sanzu cuts him off, sharp and merciless. "She's nothing. A nobody. Mikey made that pretty fucking clear, didn't he?"
Nothing. A nobody.
Each word hits you with the force of a physical blow. Whatever you were to Mikey, whatever you thought you had—it's been ripped away, stripped down to these ugly truths. 
You're nothing now.
Kakucho's gaze flickers to you, sympathy and uncertainty mingling in his dark eyes. But you can't meet them. You drop your head, staring at the floor as though it holds all the answers you need. Maybe if you don't look, you won't have to acknowledge what Sanzu just said. Maybe you can pretend you didn't hear it.
Mikey doesn't want you anymore.
"Stop this," Kakucho urges, stepping forward now, his movements careful, deliberate. "You're high. This isn't going to end well, you know that."
Sanzu's eyes snap up, wild and feral, like a predator guarding its kill. "Exactly." His voice drops to a venomous whisper. "So back the fuck off before I kill you too."
The tension between them is palpable, but Kakucho eventually steps back, his jaw tight with barely suppressed anger. He's seen what Sanzu is capable of when he's in this state. They all have. 
"Just don't go too far," Kakucho mutters, his voice tight, his eyes flicking to you one last time before he steps aside. His reluctance lingers, but in the end, he's still letting you be dragged away.
Ran, sprawled lazily on the couch, barely lifts his head as he calls after Sanzu. "Mission's at nine. Try not to be dead before then."
Sanzu pays no mind to either of them. His grip tightens, and you're dragged deeper into Bonten's labyrinthine corridors, every step taking you further from any hope of intervention.
He pulls you into a small room, slamming the door behind him with enough force to rattle your bones. A click follows—the lock sliding into place—and you're alone. Alone with him.
The room is stark, clinical, a conference table dominating the space with its polished wood surface and neatly lined chairs. But there's nothing neat about what's happening now. The moment Sanzu shoves you against the table, hard enough that the edge bites into your lower back, the sterile, formal atmosphere of the room is obliterated.
His hand shoots up, fingers wrapping around your throat. The pressure is immediate, your breath catching in your throat as your vision blurs at the edges. You gasp instinctively, hands flying to his wrist, nails scraping against his skin, but he's too strong. His hold tightens further, cutting off more of your air, and panic grips you.
He leans in, his breath hot against your face, laced with the stench of drugs. His expression is wild, unhinged, pupils dilated and blown wide with intoxication. But beneath the drugs, there's something else—an anger, a bitterness that has nothing to do with you, but is aimed at you all the same.
"Now..." His voice is low, almost a growl. "What the fuck do I have to do to make you understand that you don't belong here?"
Your lungs burn, your head spinning as your fingers claw at his hand. I don't belong here? The thought pierces through your fog of fear. Maybe he's right. You're not sure of anything anymore—not after Mikey, not after what you saw. 
You can't breathe, and everything is turning dark. Sanzu's face, his mocking grin, is the only thing in focus.
Tears well up, spilling over your lashes. But you're not crying because of the physical pain. It's the emotional torment that's killing you. The crushing realization that you are utterly, completely alone. No one's coming to save you. 
Sanzu watches as you choke on your own sobs, and he laughs, low and cold. "Already crying?" he mocks. "I haven't even started yet."
But the tears won't stop. The dam inside you breaks, and you're gasping, sobbing uncontrollably in front of him. You can't take it anymore. Not this. Not after what Mikey's done to you.
"Just..." You choke on the words, your voice broken and hoarse. "Just fucking kill me already."
For a moment, there's silence. Then, his grip on your neck loosens just enough to let you breathe. You gasp, sucking in precious air, coughing as your lungs fight for life. But the relief is short-lived.
Sanzu's face hovers inches from yours, his smirk growing, eyes gleaming with dangerous amusement. "Kill you?" His tone is soft now, condescending. "Nah. That's too easy."
His fingers trace the curve of your jaw, rough, possessive. "I think I'd rather play with you a little longer." 
You squeeze your eyes shut, hands pressing against your face as tears continue to spill down your cheeks. This feels so stupid. So, so stupid. Mikey's across the hall with his wife, living his perfect life, while you're stuck here with Sanzu—his insane, drugged-up number two. 
What a fucking downgrade. 
Suddenly, without warning, Sanzu grabs your face roughly, forcing you to look up at him through your tear-filled eyes.
"You're pathetic," he sneers before crushing his lips against yours. 
The kiss is brutal, possessive, and filled with an overwhelming heat that makes your skin crawl. You try to push him away, but his weight presses you into the table, your wrists pinned beneath his hands. It's suffocating, just like his grip on your throat.
And then you taste it. Something bitter and foreign sliding past your lips. Your eyes widen in horror as you realize what he's doing.
He pulls back, his lips brushing yours as he whispers, "Swallow."
You shake your head, panic rising in your chest. No way. You're not going to swallow that. You try to spit it out, but his hand clamps down over your mouth, smothering any attempt to resist.
"Don't make this harder than it has to be," he murmurs, his tone soft but filled with menace. "Be a good girl... and swallow."
His words slither into your ears, so sweet and venomous all at once, poisoning what little willpower you have left. You want to fight him. You want to scream and tear away from him, but you can't. Your body is too sluggish, too weak to resist, and part of you doesn't want to. 
It wants him to be right.
It's easier, isn't it? To let him take control. To stop resisting and just give in, let the numbness wash over you. Maybe then the pain of everything—of Mikey, of the betrayal, of this twisted mess—will fade, even just for a moment.
"I said swallow," Sanzu hisses, his patience thinning. "That. Shit."
You finally swallow the pill, the bitterness lingering on your tongue like a promise you'll regret. The drug settles deep inside you, blooming warmth spreading through your chest like wildfire, but there's no comfort in it. It only intensifies the chaos swirling in your mind—the betrayal, the loss, the desire to escape. It all collides in a sickening wave, leaving you gasping, clinging to the edge of the table as your body betrays you.
Sanzu watches you with an intensity that makes your skin crawl, his eyes dark, wide, and hungry. He's waiting. Waiting for the drug to take hold, waiting for you to crumble.
"Good girl," he breathes, and the words slide over your skin, soft and menacing. His gaze lingers, tracing every tremor in your body, every stifled breath. 
The drug spreads quickly—too quickly. The next thing you know the room is spinning violently, the floor tipping beneath your feet, and you're stumbling as warmth floods your limbs. You try to steady yourself, but your body feels too light, too hot, like you're floating, disconnected from reality. Your breath quickens, panic swelling in your chest as your senses sharpen, every touch, every sound amplified to unbearable levels.
Sanzu's hands are still on you, his touch electric, sending jolts through your skin. You gasp, your heart racing as the euphoria spreads, tangling with the devastation inside you, turning everything into a dizzying blur of sensation. You can barely breathe, and yet, in the haze of it all, a part of you is aware of his gaze, watching you intently, reveling in your reaction.
"How does it feel? Hmm?" His voice is low, almost a purr, and you can feel his breath against your ear as he leans in closer. 
"First time's always the best." He laughs, a quiet, sinister sound that rattles through your bones. "You'll feel good soon... or maybe you'll just cry harder. Who knows?"
You choke on a sob, the tears spilling over as the drug overtakes you, drowning you in heat and haze. Your body feels foreign, your mind too foggy to comprehend anything other than the intensity of it all. You want to fight it, fight him, but there's nothing to hold on to—nothing but him.
And that terrifies you.
"Let go," he murmurs. "Let it take over... Forget about him. Forget everything. Just feel."
Your body acts before your mind can catch up, your hand clutching the front of his shirt, fingers twisting into the fabric. It's an instinctual, desperate motion, driven by something deep inside—a need for warmth, for something to hold on to. You can't explain it, but you crave him now, the heat of his body, the solidity of his presence. You pull him closer, though you don't even understand why, though it feels all wrong.
"Look at you..." Sanzu's chuckle is dark, amused. "Hanging onto me like a lost puppy." 
But he leans in anyway, his breath brushing against your neck as he speaks. His proximity feels like a lifeline, shielding you from the blinding lights that seem to intensify with every passing second. The room tilts, but his voice anchors you, even as it weaves dirty, degrading things in your ear—things that make your stomach twist, yet ignite something you don't want to acknowledge.
Your heart races, breath coming in ragged bursts. Everything is too intense—his touch, his words, the sensation of your body betraying you. You don't understand this feeling, this mixture of euphoria and humiliation. It's confusing, overwhelming, and yet, you can't shake the craving. The need for more. 
His touch, his heat.
Then, without warning, he steps back.
The sudden absence of him is like a cold slap to the face, leaving you breathless and cold. Your body aches for the warmth he took with him, for the closeness that you didn't even know you craved. You hate it. You hate the emptiness he leaves behind.
He adjusts his waistcoat with a casual smirk, like this was all just a game to him, like your unraveling was just another form of entertainment. 
"You're on your own now," he says, his voice detached, distant. "Enjoy the ride."
And just like that, he's gone, the door clicking shut behind him.
You're left sprawled across the table, the world spinning, lights burning into your skull. Your limbs are heavy, useless, and you try to move, to escape the overwhelming heat and dizziness suffocating you, but your body won't cooperate. You tumble to the floor, the carpet catching your fall with a soft thud.
A giggle bubbles up from your throat, though you don't know why. Everything feels distant, like you're floating, detached from reality. The warmth of the drug mingles with the cold ache of abandonment, creating a disorienting swirl of emotions that you can't make sense of.
And so you lie there, lost in the haze, your body sinking deeper into the plush floor as the laughter fades, leaving only the hollow emptiness behind.
Until, finally, the world pulls you into the darkness of sleep.
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Manjiro Sano never cheated on you before. You've known him for nine years—nine long years where loyalty was never questioned, not once. He's never strayed, never looked at another woman the way he looks at you. That was the truth you clung to through all the chaos, the violence, the bloodshed. But tonight, the foundation of that truth crumbles before your eyes.
When you catch him with his wife, it's not exactly cheating, is it? Not when she's the one wearing the ring. Not when she's the one he made vows to. And yet, it feels like betrayal. If anything, you're the other woman now. Your position, the one you held so dearly, has shifted, without your consent.
He's the one betraying her, not you. But that logic doesn't make the pain any easier to bear. It still cuts deep, searing through you with what you had just witnessed in Mikey's office. You thought you were strong enough to endure it, thought you could compartmentalize the ache gnawing at your insides. You were wrong. The sight of them together burns itself into your mind like a wound that refuses to heal.
Until Sanzu forced that pill down your throat. 
The memory floods back, vivid and suffocating. His twisted grin, the roughness of his hands, the way he made you feel so helpless. But now? Now you feel the strangest relief. The aching wound in your chest—the one Mikey and his wife carved out—fades into a distant blur, replaced by a creeping, unnatural numbness. Your mind is hazy, clouded, but in that haze, you find comfort.
The world felt kinder in that numbness. And for a moment, you were almost grateful for the relief Sanzu gave you. Almost.
When you wake up, the high is gone, leaving behind a pounding headache and a body that feels stiff, heavy, like someone drained the life from you. The floor feels strange under your hands, cold and unfamiliar. You blink, trying to orient yourself, and realize you're not on the floor anymore. Someone moved you—you're sprawled across the couch in the executive lounge, a blanket thrown haphazardly over you like an afterthought.
Your body screams in discomfort, muscles sore, your skin aching where his hands had pressed too hard. But the pain is secondary to the memories—Sanzu. That damn pill. The way he—
"You're awake."
The voice cuts through the fog in your mind, and your head snaps to the side. Mikey sits in a chair not far from you, the dim light casting shadows across his face. He's watching you, his expression unreadable, but his eyes... his eyes are different. Tired. 
The night stretches behind him through the window, a dark sky lit by city lights. The office is quiet. Everyone else is gone. Even Sanzu.
It's just you and Mikey now.
You don't answer him. The ache in your chest resurfaces, sharper this time, suffocating as the image of him and his wife flashes in your mind again. It hits harder now, with Mikey sitting right in front of you, looking at you.
You push yourself up, your body swaying under the weight of exhaustion and leftover dizziness. Your throat is sore, bruised, where Sanzu's fingers had pressed too hard, too rough, forcing. You reach up instinctively, wincing at the tenderness, and you catch Mikey's gaze drop to your neck.
His jaw clenches. The air between you shifts—heavy, tense.
"He won't touch you again."
His voice is low, soft, but there's a dangerous edge beneath it, one that sends a chill through your veins. You know that tone. It's the tone he uses before someone dies.
You swallow, the reality sinking in. What has Mikey done? What did he do to Sanzu? The thought twists in your gut, unease settling deep inside you, but part of you pushes the thought away. Sanzu deserves whatever he gets, doesn't he? After what he did?
You swallow hard, trying to find your voice. "Forget about that... He gave me something. A pill."
Mikey's face shifts, unreadable for a moment, then he shrugs. "A pill? X, probably. He does that sometimes. Are you alright?"
That makes sense. No wonder you passed out so quickly. But it doesn't ease the anger boiling inside you, doesn't take away the humiliation of letting Sanzu drag you deeper into his twisted games when you were already at your lowest.
"I'm fine," you bite out, though it feels like a lie. 
Fine? You're far from fine.
The words hang in the air, sharp, bitter, and when you look at Mikey, the ache in your chest becomes unbearable. You're not sure if it's anger or heartbreak that makes it so hard to breathe.
"Mikey..." you begin again, your voice cracking slightly, the words lodged in your throat. It's harder than you thought to say it, because once it's out, there's no taking it back. 
"We can't just pretend like nothing's changed."
He doesn't look at you at first. He just stares at the floor, his jaw clenched tight, as though he's trying to force himself to say something, but can't. The silence stretches on painfully before he finally speaks, his voice so low you almost don't hear him.
"I know things are different." Each word sounds forced, like it's taking every ounce of strength for him to admit it. "But..."
Your heart clenches, your breath catching in your throat. There's always a 'but' with him, isn't there? Always some excuse, some reason why things can't go back to the way they were.
"But what, Mikey?" you ask, unable to stop yourself. It's not anger that drives you this time, but the desperation clawing at your insides. "You have feelings for her now, don't you?"
You watch him as he exhales slowly, his face still calm, almost detached. You wish he would say something, anything, to ease the ache in your chest. But he doesn't.
"I do," he says, his voice distant. It's a confession that feels like a knife to your heart. "I can't deny that. She's... she's gonna have my kid. It's not simple anymore."
The words hit you like a physical blow. You knew it, deep down, but hearing him say it aloud makes it real in a way you weren't prepared for. The sharp, bitter taste of betrayal lingers in the back of your throat. You swallow hard, trying to keep your emotions from spilling over, but your voice wavers when you speak again.
"And us?" 
The question slips out, soft and fragile, but it cuts deeper than anything you've said before. You're asking about more than just your relationship—you're asking about the nine years you gave him, about the promises he made, about the love you once believed was unbreakable.
Mikey's eyes finally meet yours, and for a brief moment, you see the boy you once knew—the boy who swore he'd never leave you, who promised you forever under the stars when you were both too young to understand what that meant. His gaze softens for a second, a flicker of something almost tender, almost apologetic.
"I still care about you," he says, his voice low but steady. There's no hesitation in his tone, no doubt. But it's not the answer you were hoping for. "That hasn't changed."
But it has. 
The truth of that slams into you with crushing finality. You shake your head, the weight of his words pressing down on you, suffocating you. 
"Oh, it has, Mikey," you whisper, barely able to get the words out. "You know that."
The silence that follows is thick, heavy with everything left unsaid. Mikey doesn't argue, doesn't try to convince you otherwise. He just leans back in his chair, his hands falling limp at his sides, as though he's too exhausted to fight anymore. There's a defeat in his posture that wasn't there before, as if even he knows this is the end.
You want to scream at him, demand why it took him so long to be honest, why he let things fall apart so silently. But the words won't come. All that's left is the ache, the unbearable knowledge that the man you've loved for nearly a decade is slipping further away from you with every passing second.
Mikey looks like he's about to say something, his lips parting slightly, but then he falters, his shoulders sagging under the weight of whatever he's holding back. 
"Maybe," he murmurs after a moment, his voice so soft you almost miss it. For the first time, he sounds vulnerable. "But I don't want to lose you. I can't..."
His voice breaks, just a little, and that cracks something inside of you too. Because it sounds like the truth, like the rawness of his feelings is finally breaking through the cold exterior he always wears. Nine years together, and this is where it's come to—a place where even his honesty feels too late. Too hollow. You know it's not enough. It never will be.
You don't want to lose him either. You don't want to believe that all those years meant nothing. But deep down, you know it already has. The moment she became his wife, the moment he chose her, you lost this battle. The war in your heart is over, and all that remains is the wreckage of what once was.
"You're already losing me," you whisper, the finality of it sinking in. Each word feels like a dagger in your own chest. "When you started choosing her, Mikey."
Mikey doesn't move, doesn't say a word. He just sits there, silent and still, like he's frozen in time. Maybe he doesn't have the strength to argue. Maybe, deep down, he knows it's true. He's losing you, and there's nothing left he can do to stop it.
You don't wait for his answer anymore. You've spent too long waiting for him to decide, too long hoping for a future that's already gone. The pain in your body—your aching muscles, the soreness from Sanzu's rough touch—it all fades into the background, drowned out by the unbearable weight of your broken heart.
You push yourself to your feet, your legs shaking slightly under the strain. But you don't let yourself falter. You can't, not now.
"You need to figure this out on your own," you say, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to stay strong. Your words are an ultimatum, a final plea for him to understand what he's done. 
"Because I can't keep waiting for you to choose me. I'm not meant to be an option. I'm worth more than that."
There's nothing left to say. The words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of goodbye. Mikey doesn't move, doesn't speak, and that hurts more than anything else. He's letting you walk away.
Without another word, you turn and head toward the elevator. Each step feels like a thousand miles, like you're walking out of his life for good. And maybe you are. Maybe this is the end you've been dreading for so long.
The elevator doors close behind you with a soft click, and in the quiet of the enclosed space, the tears finally come. They fall silently at first, warm trails down your cheeks, but you don't wipe them away. 
As the elevator descends, you let the tears flow freely. The weight of the years, the memories, the love you poured into him—it all hits you at once, and you don't stop it. You don't need to hide from the truth anymore.
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Manjiro Sano has killed before. The thought of it had once terrified you, the cold certainty in his eyes when he spoke of violence always chilling. 
You know this because you asked him, point-blank, one night when the weight of his world became too much to ignore. He didn't tell you directly, but the silence that followed, the coldness in his eyes, was answer enough. In that moment, the boy you knew, the boy you loved, disappeared into the shadows of the man he had become.
Still, you accepted him. Loved him anyway. You convinced yourself it was the only way to keep him—by accepting all of him, even the parts you couldn't bear to understand. You've always found a way to justify it—his actions, his choices, the darkness that clung to him like a second skin. Because loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. It became an instinct, a reflex, something that felt inevitable.
But now, the uncertainty gnaws at you, harder than ever before. Not just the heaviness of knowing who he is, but the gnawing question of what he's capable of—what he's done to the people around him. 
What he's done to Sanzu.
Your mind races, replaying every detail of your last conversation with Mikey. The hard edge to his voice, the finality in his words. If Mikey killed him, it's because of you, isn't it? Because of what Sanzu did to you. 
If Sanzu's dead, then his blood is on your hands. 
That thought lodges itself deep in your chest, a weight too heavy to shake. Even after everything—after the drug, the violence, the way he pushed you to the edge—you can't stomach the idea of Sanzu dying because of you.
Which is why you find yourself here again, standing outside Sanzu's condominium in the middle of the night, your heart pounding so loud you can barely hear your own thoughts. 
Mikey's words echo in your mind—his cold, distant voice, the final crack in everything you thought you knew about him. The realization had shattered you in ways you hadn't been prepared for.
It's over.
The words taste bitter on your tongue, but they ring with a truth that you can't deny. The boy you loved, the man you thought you'd stand beside forever—he's gone. And in his place is someone you no longer recognize.
Your feet move almost on their own as you approach Sanzu's door, but a hesitation stops you just before you reach the doorbell. Do you even know what you're doing here? What you want? You aren't sure. But the pull toward him, toward finding out what Mikey's done, is stronger than your doubts. 
With a shaky breath, you press the doorbell. The silence that follows is deafening, punctuated only by the racing of your heart. Each second that passes feels like a lifetime, until finally, the shuffle of footsteps inside tells you someone's there.
The door swings open with a creak, and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him. Relief washes over you—but only for a second. What replaces it is a sharp stab of pity. 
Sanzu looks like hell. His one eye is swollen and bruised, a fresh bandage covering the right side of his face. His lips are split and caked with dried blood, a sight that twists something deep in your chest. 
His trademark sneer is still there, but it's marred by the pain that's evident in the way he stands, slightly hunched, favoring one side. There's an anger in his eyes, but behind it, you can see the weariness, the vulnerability he would never admit to.
"What the fuck do you want now?" Sanzu snaps, his voice sharp despite the obvious discomfort he's in. He's trying to sound like his usual self, but you can tell the fight has been knocked out of him. He's hurting. Badly.
Your mouth opens to respond, the words on the tip of your tongue, but they die there. Seeing him like this—broken, battered—it's not what you expected. It shakes something loose inside of you. Your eyes scan his injuries, your mind reeling with the knowledge that Mikey did this. The boy you loved did this.
Mikey isn't supposed to be this brutal. Not with his own.
The thought makes your chest tighten painfully, and before you can stop it, the tidal wave of emotion crashes over you. Tears spill from your eyes, hot and unchecked. You thought you'd cried all the tears you had to give tonight, but this time, they come from a place deeper than heartbreak. This time, you're crying for everything—for Mikey, for Sanzu, for the person you've become in all this mess.
Sanzu's sneer fades slightly as he takes in the sight of you, replaced by an annoyed scowl. He's trying to hide his discomfort, but you can see the confusion in his eyes. 
"The hell are you crying for? Stop that now!" His words are rough, but there's an edge of bewilderment in them. 
He doesn't understand why you're here, why you're crying.
But you can't stop. The sobs come hard and fast, tearing through you in a way that makes it hard to breathe. You're overwhelmed, consumed by the realization that Mikey is no longer the man you fell in love with. When did he start to change? When did the violence become more than just a part of his world, but a part of him?
Sanzu watches you, his irritation growing as your sobs continue. He's never been good with emotions—especially not yours.
"Shit," he mutters under his breath, rubbing a hand across his face and wincing as he touches the bruise. "You're crying over him, huh?"
His words hit you like a slap, and more tears fall, a pitiful, uncontrollable mess. And in that moment, you don't care. You don't care that Sanzu's dangerous, that he's hurt you before, that he's the reason you ended up here in the first place. All you can think about is the fact that Mikey—your Mikey—is gone.
He's no longer the boy who used to hold you late at night, whispering promises of a future that now feels like a distant dream. He's no longer the man who looked at you like you were his entire world.
He's no longer yours.
Sanzu scoffs, the sound harsh in the quiet hallway. "Fuck's sake, stop crying. You're acting like a kid." 
But even his sharp words don't reach you. 
When you don't respond, don't even acknowledge him, something in Sanzu snaps. He can't stand it anymore—the emotions, the tears, the fact that you're standing here crying over someone else while he's falling apart.
"Goddammit!" he snarls, and before you can blink, he slams the door in your face. 
The sound echoes in the empty hallway, a loud, final punctuation to the moment. You're left standing there, your body trembling as the sobs finally start to quiet, though the tears continue to stream down your cheeks. You're alone again, and the weight of that reality hits you harder than anything else.
Mikey is gone. And so is the life you thought you'd have.
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Manjiro Sano hated seeing you cry. Every time your tears would spill, it was like the world stopped spinning. His face would twist in pain, even if the tears weren't his fault. He once said that when you cried, it felt like he had failed—like he should have protected you from whatever caused them. 
He always pulled you into his arms when you broke down, his touch so gentle it was almost unreal. He would stroke your hair, whispering that everything was okay, hiding you in the crook of his shoulder so you wouldn't feel so exposed.
But that Mikey? That Mikey is long gone.
Now you're standing outside Sanzu's condo unit, your fingers shaking as you try to dry your tear-streaked face. The cold air bites at your skin, or maybe it's the weight of what's happened tonight that chills you to the bone. 
The second time you've cried in front of Sanzu today. 
The first time, his hands were around your throat, forcing a pill past your lips, his eyes distant and clouded with drugs. The second time, there was no pill, no high to hide behind—just bruises, pain, and a door slammed in your face.
You shouldn't have come here, but at least you know he's alive. Mikey hadn't killed him, though something in the pit of your stomach told you it could have easily gone that way. You should feel relieved. Instead, the relief is mingled with anger, a deep-seated frustration that makes your heart pound even harder.
Just as you wipe away the last tear, the door swings open again. 
Sanzu stands in the doorway, his silhouette stark against the dim light inside. His scowl deepens as his eyes land on you, scanning your face like he's surprised you're still standing there. 
Then, without a word, he grabs your wrist and pulls you inside, slamming the door shut behind you. His grip is rough, but it loosens as soon as you're inside, leaving you stunned and blinking in the middle of his condo unit.
He disappears into another room and comes back with a box of tissues, shoving it toward you without a word. You take it, still in shock, as your eyes land on the bandage on his cheek. It's crooked, slapped on without much care, and his busted lip is still untreated, blood crusting around the edges, making him look even more broken than usual. You flinch inwardly at the sight.
"Did you get that wound treated?" Your voice is softer than you intended, concern slipping through the cracks in your resolve.
Sanzu glares at you. "What's it to you?"
You ignore his harshness, stepping closer. "You need to clean it properly," you say as your eyes fall to the faded scars at the corners of his mouth, scars you've always tried not to stare at too long. 
"Or it'll leave... a scar."
"Yeah? So what?" he mutters, brushing off your concern as he walks away.
You stare at him, the words catching in your throat. The sight of him—bruised and bandaged sloppily—somehow makes your chest ache in ways you don't fully understand.
"Don't you have any antiseptic?" you ask, turning toward the door. "I'll go buy some if—"
"I have it," he grunts, cutting you off. "Top shelf, next to you. You'd think I wouldn't know how to deal with a damn wound in this line of work?"
You glance at the haphazard bandage on his cheek, clearly not impressed by his self-care. Still, you open the shelf and retrieve a small emergency kit. 
"Then why didn't you treat the cut on your lip?" you ask, your voice a little firmer this time as you sit on the edge of his couch. "Surely you know you need to put antiseptic on it."
Sanzu grumbles under his breath, looking away. "Because... it fucking hurts, alright?"
You freeze for a second, blinking at him in surprise. Sanzu—the man who seems to thrive on chaos and pain—can't handle the sting of a simple cut? It's almost absurd, and yet, in that moment, you glimpse a flicker of something real beneath his usual mask. Vulnerability.
"I didn't think you were afraid of pain," you murmur, more to yourself than to him.
"I'm not afraid of it," he snaps, his voice rising defensively. "I just fucking hate it."
There's a childishness in his tone that catches you off guard, like he's throwing a tantrum rather than admitting weakness. The outburst lingers in the air for a moment before you decide to ignore it, reaching for the antiseptic in the first aid kit.
"Let me treat it." Your voice is calm, quiet. An olive branch, if only he'd take it.
Sanzu stares at you, his jaw tight, his eyes narrowing. "Forget it," he mutters, brushing you off. "I don't need you all over my business."
"You're a dick, you know that?" you say, watching him limp slightly as he heads toward the pantry. The guilt sits heavy in your stomach.
He doesn't even glance back as he opens the fridge, retrieving a beer. "And I get paid for it," he replies, voice flat, devoid of his usual smugness.
You roll your eyes as he cracks the can open, lifting it to his lips, his pink hair a mess, like he's been through more than just a fight with Mikey. The black shirt and sweatpants he's wearing make him look almost... domestic. It hits you, suddenly—this familiarity, this strange sense of calm despite everything. It reminds you of Mikey, the way he used to walk around your apartment. The way things used to be. 
Your heart twists.
"We broke up," you blurt out, the words spilling from your lips before you can stop them. It's like ripping off a bandage—quick and painful, but it has to be done.
Sanzu pauses mid-sip, his back still turned to you. You watch as he downs the rest of the beer in one long gulp, crushing the can in his hand before tossing it aside. 
"'Bout time. I'm surprised it took him this long to figure it out," he mutters, but his words lack bite. There's no usual mockery, no cruelty, just... hollow indifference.
You study him, sensing the weight of his own pain, the bruises left by Mikey—not just on his body but somewhere deeper. You want to ask, to probe at the cracks in his usual defenses, but you don't. Instead, you take a breath and shift the conversation.
"I know, right?" You force a smile that feels thin, brittle. "I'm so heartbroken." The sarcasm coats your words, but it can't hide the tremor in your voice. 
"You must be feeling pretty good right now, so why not do me a favor?" You motion for him to sit beside you. "Sit here and let me treat your wounds."
Sanzu turns slowly, his eyes scanning you as if weighing your request. You can tell he's torn, that a part of him wants to accept the help, even if his pride keeps getting in the way.
You sit there, waiting, knowing that if he needed to push you away, he would've already done it. You don't say anything, just hold your ground, offering him something he's clearly not used to—genuine care.
Finally, with a sharp exhale, he mutters, the words almost begrudging, "Fine. But don't expect me to thank you."
You smile softly, shaking your head as you hold out the antiseptic. "I wouldn't dream of it."
He walks toward you, but instead of sitting next to you, he drops down on the opposite couch, legs sprawled out carelessly, almost as if daring you to come to him instead. You raise an eyebrow, the familiar exasperation rising within you.
"You could at least make it easier for me," you grumble, standing up and walking over. 
There's a flicker of amusement in his eyes as you sit down in front of him on the coffee table, closer now, the scent of alcohol faint but present on his breath. He watches you carefully, eyes following your movements with that predatory focus he always seems to carry, even in moments like this.
When you peel back the bandage on his cheek, revealing the jagged scrape underneath, he winces, trying but failing to hide it. You smirk despite yourself, dabbing the wound with antiseptic. 
"You're such a baby," you tease, the words slipping out before you can stop them.
The reaction is immediate. "Am not," he snaps, his voice cutting through the space between you. "Don't fucking call me that again." There's a sharp edge to his words, but you can hear the vulnerability beneath it, the bruised pride of someone who's used to fighting, not being taken care of.
You ignore his outburst, focusing on his wound. This time, you're more careful, your touch gentler as you apply the ointment. His lips press into a thin line, and you can feel the effort it takes for him to sit still. There's something oddly endearing about it, watching him struggle with the idea of being vulnerable, even for a moment.
He really hates being called a baby, doesn't he?
When you finish with the bandage, you move on to his split lip, focusing on the dried blood caked around the cut. He avoids your gaze, scowling as if pretending this isn't happening. 
As your fingers brush against the faded scars at the corners of his mouth, curiosity gnaws at you. Before you can stop yourself, you press a thumb to one of the scars, feeling the jagged line beneath your skin.
Sanzu jerks back, his eyes blazing as he swats your hand away. "What the hell?" he growls, the vulnerability from a moment ago vanishing beneath the weight of his anger.
"Sorry," you murmur, pulling your hand back. "I got distracted." 
The air between you shifts again, tense and fragile. You can tell you've touched something he doesn't want to share, a part of him that's still too raw, too guarded. And yet, you can't help but wonder what it would take for him to open up—to let you see more than just the surface.
You watch him stands abruptly in front of you, like he's about to bolt. "But I'm not done yet," you lie, trying to keep him there, keep the moment from slipping away.
He hesitates, glaring at you, but after a second, he sits back down with a grunt. "Whatever, just get it over with. I don't have all night to wait around."
You stay still, your hands resting in your lap as you stare at him, not moving to pick up the first aid kit again. "Can I ask you something?"
Sanzu slouches deeper into the couch, his eyes narrowing at you. "What now?"
You take a breath, steadying yourself. "How did you get those scars?"
The question hangs in the air between you, heavy and loaded with meaning. For a moment, you expect him to laugh it off, to mock you for even asking. But instead, he just stares at you, his gaze cold and distant, like he's weighing whether or not to answer.
When he finally speaks, his voice is low, almost a whisper. "Mikey gave them to me."
The admission hits you like a punch to the gut. Mikey? Mikey did that to him? You feel your heart sink, your stomach twisting in disbelief. Judging by the faded look of the scars, it wasn't recent—this happened years ago. Long before Bonten. So why...?
"Why?" Your voice cracks, betraying the flood of emotions rising inside you.
Sanzu's eyes darken, his expression hardening. "I don't fucking remember," he snaps, his tone sharp, like he's daring you to push further. 
But the look in his eyes tells you more than his words ever could. This isn't something he wants to talk about—not with you, not with anyone.
You lower your gaze, staring down at your hands as the weight of everything threatens to crush you again. The urge to cry surfaces, hot tears stinging your eyes. You've cried so much today, and in front of him of all people. It's humiliating at this point. 
You stand, trying to escape the overwhelming weight of it all. "It's done. So I'll just... go," you mumble, stepping toward the door.
Before you can make it far, Sanzu's hand wraps around your wrist, his fingers cool against your skin. His grip is light, almost hesitant. You look down at where his fingers hold you, then back up at him. 
"What is it?"
You can feel your voice trembling, on the verge of breaking. You're so close to falling apart, and he's just... watching.
"Want this?" he asks suddenly, holding up a bottle filled with colorful pills. 
He gives it a small shake, and the pills rattle softly inside. The smirk that spreads across his face now is familiar, predatory. This is the Sanzu you know, the one you hate. 
"This shit's the real deal. Remember the other stuff I gave you earlier? That was just a trial run." He laughs, that low, mocking sound that makes your blood boil.
Your chest tightens as you stare at the pills, your mind flashing back to the euphoria from earlier. It had felt so good, so easy, like all the pain had vanished for a while. And yet... you narrow your eyes at him, anger replacing the temptation. How could he think you'd ever take anything from him again after what he did?
Sanzu sees the anger flash across your face, and the smirk fades. He lets go of your wrist and looks away, his expression hardening again. "Forget it. Just leave."
For a moment, you almost do. You almost walk out the door and leave him behind. But something makes you stop. The way his hand had felt around your wrist, the way his voice had softened when he realized what he was offering. You glance back at him, his body tense as he stares ahead, avoiding your gaze. And suddenly, you don't want to leave anymore.
"I want it," you say quietly, turning fully to face him. "Give it to me."
Sanzu's eyes flick back to you, surprise flashing briefly before his usual sneer returns. "Fuck no," he grunts. "You think I'm gonna give you this just to watch you walk out the door?"
There's a pause. His words hang in the air, and for a split second, his eyes widen slightly, like he's just surprised himself with the admission. He hadn't meant to say that, but now it's out there—he doesn't want you to leave. Not yet. 
He actually wants your company.
You can't help the bitter smile that tugs at your lips. "What, are you gonna choke me again?" you ask, your voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
His head snaps toward you, confusion etched into his features. "Huh? No. That's—" He stumbles over the words, almost defensive, like he hadn't considered how far he'd gone before.
Without waiting for him to finish, you plop down on the couch beside him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. You extend your hand, palm up, eyes fixed on his. 
"Fine. Give me that, Sanzu."
For a moment, he doesn't move, his gaze searching your face. Then, slowly, a smirk tugs at his lips again—the same smug, infuriating expression you've come to expect from him.
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Manjiro Sano has warned you more than once: avoid Sanzu when he's high. The fact that you were Mikey's girlfriend has always been enough to keep Sanzu from crossing certain lines when he's sober, but when the drugs took over, his already fragile self-control shatters. 
The warning always carries weight, like a veiled threat that lingers at the back of your mind, but tonight... tonight, you don't care. You're too numb, too broken, and the reckless part of you craves the release Sanzu offers. The part of you that wants to forget Mikey. 
The pill between Sanzu's fingers gleams like forbidden fruit, a dual-colored capsule that promises escape. His grin is lazy, predatory, as if the thrill of watching you self-destruct is part of his form of entertainment. Without a word, you reach for the pill, swallowing it down without hesitation. The bitter taste lingers at the back of your throat, but the anticipation of oblivion drowns out any second thoughts.
Within minutes, the edges of reality begin to blur. The room shifts, the walls breathe, and the floor ripples like water beneath your feet. Colors bleed into each other, swirling in dizzying patterns that make you feel weightless. The cool marble floor presses against your cheek as you lie sprawled on the ground, your limbs heavy yet disconnected from your body.
Above you, like a ghostly shadow, Sanzu lounges on the couch, watching you with an intensity that both unnerves and thrills you. He takes a pill of his own before the next wave hits you—stronger this time, pulling you under completely.
For a fleeting moment, you let everything go—the pain, the heartbreak, the memories of Mikey's distant eyes as you walked away from him. All the weight of your unspoken love, of your shattered heart, evaporates in the fog of euphoria. It's terrifying how easy it is to forget, to lose yourself in the numbness. But somewhere, deep in the pit of your soul, the fear lingers. 
What will be left of you when the high wears off?
When you wake the next morning, reality presses you down like a vise. Your head pounds, each throb a reminder of the drug still pulsing through your system. The soft morning light filters through the unfamiliar room's windows. You blink, disoriented, trying to piece together what happened. 
Right... Sanzu. You were in his condo last night, and this—this must be his bedroom.
As you shift, the soft rustle of sheets draws your attention, and your heart leaps into your throat. Sanzu lies beside you, his face buried in the pillow, his hair a wild mess of pink strands. He's half-naked, the blanket draped loosely over his hips, and for a moment, panic seizes you. 
Your fingers instinctively brush over your clothes—still on, thank God. Relief washes over you, but it's fleeting. The haze of the previous night is still there, muddy and unclear, and you have no idea what happened between the two of you after you'd lost yourself to the high.
Whatever it was, it doesn't seem like you had sex with him. At least... you hope you didn't. Two people who are really high wouldn't bother to put their clothes back on after sex, right? 
You sit up carefully, the bed creaking softly beneath you, and that's when you notice them—his scars. Lines of jagged, raw skin crisscross his back like a violent roadmap of his past. Some scars are old, barely visible against his pale skin, while others are fresh, still healing from whatever recent chaos he's endured. 
You know that Sanzu lives in violence, that it clings to him like a second skin, but seeing the marks so intimately, so vulnerably laid bare before you—it stirs something inside you. A deep, unsettling pity, but you quickly shove it down, pushing it past the ache in your chest.
Your shift your gaze to the floor, where the bottle of pills lies tipped over, colorful capsules scattered across the marble floor. How many did you take last night? Too many, you're sure. You feel their lingering effects, the way they dull the edges of your thoughts, how they slow your movements. 
Shaking off the grogginess, you move toward the door, eyes landing on the katana propped up against the wall. A glint of steel in the early light. 
You pause, your hand gripping the door handle. The memory of what Sanzu did before flashes through your mind—the way he choked you, forcing the first pill down your throat. Mikey has punished him for it, but still, you felt guilty enough to treat his wounds. Then, stupidly, you let yourself get high with him again. Willingly.
But the anger still simmers under the surface. All those cruel words over the years, the taunts, the smirks, the way he looks down on you. He's infuriating. And this... this is your chance to get back at him.
Without thinking, you walk over to the katana. The hilt feels cool and foreign in your hand as you lift it, the weight of it surprising you. But you don't hesitate.
As you drag the katana behind you, the metal scraping loudly against the floor, the sound reverberates in the silent hallway. Each step feels like defiance, like a rebellion against everything Sanzu represents—the control, the twisted power he holds over you.
In the basement, you find the garbage bin. Without a second thought, you dump the katana in, the clang of steel against metal echoing in the empty space. It isn't enough to truly hurt him, but it's enough to piss him off, enough to make him notice.
And that's what you want, isn't it? To get under his skin the way he always gets under yours? To make him feel something—anything—that isn't amusement at your suffering?
As you walk away, a small, bitter smile tugs at your lips. You know this won't end well. You're playing with fire, and Sanzu is dangerous when pushed. But the part of you that's still reeling from Mikey, still wounded and desperate, craves this chaos. You want to see what will happen when Sanzu finds the katana, want to watch the fury flash across his face. Because for once, you aren't the one falling apart.
Maybe it's madness, or maybe it's something deeper—a need to reclaim some form of control in a world that's stripped you of it. Either way, you aren't running anymore.
You'll face whatever comes next, even if it destroys you.
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Manjiro Sano haunts you everywhere. He's with you in the empty bed, a ghost beside you as you stare at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the dark. When you’re in the kitchen, his voice echoes in your mind, teasing, laughing, pulling you into memories that make your chest tighten with an ache that hasn't dulled. In the mirror, you see him staring back, his familiar, cold gaze mocking you as you brush your teeth, as if daring you to forget the life you shared with him.
It's been weeks since the breakup, but the weight of nine years doesn't just vanish. You were naive to think it would be easy to let go. After all, you didn't just lose Mikey—you lost the future you had envisioned, the dream of always being by his side, no matter what. 
You'd never loved anyone else, never felt the safety of another person's arms. You never had a reason to think you'd need to. And when you first learned about the arranged marriage three years ago, you foolishly believed that nothing could ever come between you and Mikey, that love would always win. However, reality had other plans.
Eventually, it all became too much. So, you made a decision. You packed your things and left the apartment you had once shared with him, that place filled with memories—of laughter, of love, of a time when he was truly yours. But now, those memories felt like weights pulling you under, drowning you in a past that you could no longer live in. 
So, you found a new place, a smaller apartment far away from that suffocating ghost. You didn't tell anyone from Bonten. Not a soul knew where you were now. It was supposed to be your clean break.
But fate never lets you escape that easily.
Weeks after you've settled into your new life, you find yourself out for a casual walk, basking in the simplicity of a quiet day. An ice cream cone in one hand, a plastic bag of snacks in the other—small, ordinary comforts in an otherwise chaotic life. You're beginning to breathe again, to feel the freedom of being on your own. And then you see him.
Mikey.
He's sitting outside a café, his silver hair catching the sunlight, his posture as calm and unreadable as ever. But next to him is her. His wife. The sight of them together makes your stomach lurch, your heart clenching as if gripped by an iron fist. She's laughing, and though Mikey's face is still as cold and impassive as always, there's something different about him. Softer. He looks at her in a way that sends a sharp pang through your chest. 
He's moving on.
Your breath catches, and for a moment, the world feels like it's tilting on its axis. You need to get out of here. Now.
Before you can make your escape, though, you spot them. Ran's lazy, amused expression is the first thing you notice, his sharp eyes locking onto you with that all-too-familiar smirk. 
"Well, well. Look who it is," he drawls, his voice dripping with mockery. But it's the presence next to him that makes your blood run cold.
Sanzu.
The moment his gaze lands on you, the air around you thickens. His eyes narrow, his lips curl into a sneer, and you know. He knows. You can almost feel the anger rolling off of him, simmering beneath the surface. You've crossed a line with him, and now, you'll pay for it.
Your heart hammers in your chest, panic seizing your throat. The plastic bag slips from your hand, the ice cream falling, forgotten, as it splatters against the pavement. You don't even care. All that matters now is getting away.
You turn and run.
"Oi!" Sanzu's voice slices through the air, sharp and dangerous. "Stop running!"
Like hell you will. 
You know what he's capable of, and you know there's nothing holding him back now—not Mikey, not anyone. Not after what you did. The memory flashes in your mind—the clattering of metal, the weight of his katana in your hands as you threw it into the trash. The reckless satisfaction of it all.
You can hear his footsteps behind you, the sound growing louder with each passing second. He's faster than you remember, and your chest tightens in fear. Sanzu is dangerous even when he's calm, but this? 
This is personal.
The crowded street is a blur as you dash through it, weaving past confused onlookers, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst. Dignity is the last thing on your mind right now—you're running for survival. And yet, amidst the chaos, a ridiculous thought crosses your mind: If I die today, I'll die looking like shit. No makeup, no cute clothes, just sweat and terror.
You can feel him gaining on you, the heat of his rage practically burning at your back, and desperation grips you. You need to think fast, or you won't make it. That's when you spot the riverbank up ahead, the water glistening in the distance. 
Without a second thought, you sprint toward it, your feet barely touching the ground as you throw yourself into the icy water. The shock of the cold steals your breath, but you don't stop moving. You swim, forcing your body through the water, the chill biting into your skin. 
When you finally break the surface, you gasp, a fleeting moment of triumph swelling in your chest. You've escaped.
Or so you think.
Your heart sinks when you see him standing on the riverbank, his figure dark and ominous against the bright sky. Sanzu is already peeling off his blazer, his eyes fixed on you with a predator's focus. There's no hesitation as he tosses it aside and kicks off his shoes. Of course, he's going to follow you. Of course, he's not letting this go.
You should have known better.
Sanzu dives into the water without a second thought, cutting through the current with frightening speed. And that's when it hits you—he isn't just chasing you out of anger. He's chasing you because you've crossed a line you can never uncross. Because Sanzu doesn't follow any rules, doesn't have any boundaries. 
And neither of you are sane enough to stop now.
< part two ends >
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author's notes. heyy beloved sanzu kinnies <3 i'm so so happy & grateful for all the love you showed to part one of BNT that i decided to bless you guys with twice as long part two hehe :D hope you guys enjoyed it! i've got some fun stuff planned for sanzu and y/n in the next part... so please stay tuned! also, i'd love to hear your thoughts so do leave some notes & comments!! tysm for reading guys! stay awesome ☆(>ᴗ•)
taglist. @iluv-ace @reiners-milkbiddies @bontenbabyy @risheliette @loveantonnlee @sukunas-bitxh @honeygonebads-blog @r3yk @soilaluna @l1ttl3m1ss666 @novv @slvdsjjk @miffysoo @qyoongi @drakensdarling @ask-the-insect-hashira @awkwardaardvarkforever @thebiggestlovergirlever @shinichirolover @kyyuuuuu @meowww1041 @kiasnotforever (comment below if you’d like to be added to the taglist!)
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© CANDYEAGER. do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my works in any other platforms.
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vixensbrainrotts · 10 months ago
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Same old, same old — Sanzu Haruchiyo
Content: Angst to fluff
Tropes: bonten! Sanzu
Warnings: drugs and their aftermath, needles, cursing, (slight) description of wounds, crying, yelling
Summary: Can you really handle this again? Should you really handle this again?
Vixen's two cents: I have strayed from my typical hyper fluff for this one and I dont know how to feel about it, please let me know. I thought shortly about making this super angsty (I had a different ending in mind) so lmk if you'd like to see the 'bad' ending to this too! Im still looking for moots so please message me, I promise im not so scary. Also, REQUESTS ARE OPEN if you have any ideas for me! now enjoy...
When Sanzu comes into your shared high-top flat, he‘s loud. He stumbles over his own feet, curses loudly when his Jacket won’t come off his arms, and runs into the door that stands half-open to the kitchen- livingroom. You’re sitting at the kitchen island when he comes to you, and something about his entrance and the way his pace is erratic and a tad too fast to seem relaxed makes you a little wary. Something is off, you can feel it radiating off of him.
„Hey, you alright?“ you ask innocently enough, trying to look into his eyes but he won’t return your gaze. Instead he just reaches down into the lining of his suit and pulls out a slim packet, slamming it onto the marble in front of you before going past you. „I don’t want to talk about it.“ he hisses as he heads towards the master bedroom.
You‘re confused, and you try to call out after him but he doesn’t respond, so instead you shift your eyes to the item Sanzu had placed before you. It’s a small, dark grey opaque plastic baggy, and it seems to whisper to you in intrigue. You reach for it, carefully peeling back one layer of the tight wraps.
What greets you inside isnt shocking, but disappointing.
Three small syringes, all slim, and notably empty, glint in the lighting, sharp tips sparkling with a metallic, glitter like shine. You sharply inhale, covering the tips with the plastic again to hide them from view. Clutching the packet tightly you stand to rush after Sanzu, who you assume is now in the bedroom.
„Haru?“ you hate the way your voice breaks. You’re supposed to be the strong one, the one who can handle these types of situations. „Haru!“ you call out to him again when you see him disappear into the bathroom, lock clicking when the door falls shut behind him. You lay your hand on the door to the bathroom with the hand thats holding the packet, and the noise the syringes make when they clink against the door makes you cringe. „Open the door baby, please. I promise im not mad at you or anything but please just open the door!” You cry out to him, softly rapping against the door with your hand.
In response you hear him yell “Go away”, and his voice is hoarse- he’s crying - he’s ashamed. Sighing, you cradle your head in your hands, thinking that maybe you can talk him out of it, but you hear the tap of the tub start running- probably to drown you out. “Haru baby we can talk about this, please turn off the water and open the door.” You try to reach him again but it’s useless.
“Go away y/n!” He roars and you can hear him start to strip, clothes being pulled and thrown into the floor. “I’m not leaving you alone Haru! Not when you’re like this!” You pound on the door this time, expressing your urgency to him clearly. On the other side of the door the haste ends, a sniffle reaching your ears over the noise of the running water.
“And I can let you see me like this!” His voice is smaller, weaker than you have ever heard him, and it breaks you. “I’ve seen you at worse baby, and you and I both know it’s better if you’d let me in.”
There are a few paces of relative silence, only the rush of water marking the passing of time. Then you hear another wet sniffle and a sigh, and you hear him slowly coming towards the door, and you step back a little.
Your grip tightens around the packet still in your hands when you hear the lock click open, and you swore you felt yourself go lightheaded for a second out of relief when the door finally opened.
Sanzu reveals himself, and he looks like a mess and a half. Eyes red, from crying and the drugs alike, hair falling and jutting out in messy strands from where it sat in the short pony, shirtless, and as you let your eyes drift down his exposed skin, you saw the hitches. His elbows were bloody and bruised from the injections, and tiny little veins raked the surfaces nearby.
His dress shirt lay bundled up in a forgotten heap on the floor not too far from the bathtub. The water was still running and it was annoying you. With a sigh you reached your empty hand up to him, cursing yourself when he flinched back a little.
You looked at his eyes, but he wouldn't return the gaze. Disappointed, you took the step forward on your own, laying your hand on his chest and pushing him into the bathroom, allowing yourself entry. Your hand traced down his arm, and when it reached his hand, you held it tightly, turning to face him when you walked past him, and puling him along further into the room.
You tugged him to the closed toilet seat, half-forcing him to sit before you, and he let you, slumping down onto the porcelain weakly. You turned shortly, wanting to go and turn off the still-open faucet, but a weak grip held you back.
Turning to look at Sanzu, you heard him mumble something, but the noise was shrouded by the running water. "What was that, love?"
"Dont let go." his voice was frail as he croaked it weakly, and your heart broke a little.
Sighing, you leaned your body towards the tub, reaching the tap and shutting it off, careful not to accidentally let his hand slip from yours. Once done, you straightened yourself and faced him again, walking over to stand between his legs.
"Baby?" he said, eyes only half open, "are you-" his voice got caught in his throat, but you knew what he wanted to ask.
are you mad at me?
are you disappointed?
are you leaving me?
are you out of your mind for staying with me after I've gone to rehab twice and relapsed again, and again, and again?
are you sending me back to rehab?
A million questions lie unanswered between the two of you, and you choose to leave it that way as you guide his hand to rest on your waist, laying your own hands on his shoulders. You look into his tired eyes for a moment before pulling him forward to rest his head on your stomach.
Tracing his back and shoulders, you trail your hands up the back of his neck, scratching the nape a little before traveling up to the ponytail, pulling the holder out of his hair, and letting it fall open. You rake your hands through the sweaty strands, not caring about the grease.
You lean down to press a kiss against his head, hands now holding his jaw and you turn him to face you. "Im here for you, ok? I dont care what happens, I have your back. Always." you press another kiss to his forehead. "Through thick and thin, through good and bad." You kiss his jaw. "I love you baby, and nothing is going to stop me from loving you, not even yourself." Your fingers trace his cheekbones and lay your forehead on his, letting your eyes close.
"Allow me to love you all the way, please. Don't try and run when things get hard like this again, it's not good for either of us." you whisper, and you feel his breath hitch against your face.
His fingers curl around your waist, and you let him breath into you, and when you hear a weak whimper you straighten yourself again, pulling him into you again, letting him cry as you hold his head.
Looking at the wall you count the tiles. Blankly you hold your lovers head and think.
things will get better. things are better.
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slttygeto · 10 months ago
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don't be so reckless, don't break my heart —MITSUYA T.
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synopsis: an argument with your childhood best friend leads to sweet confessions in the middle of the night.
tags: fluff, confessions, childhood best friend! mitsuya, fem!reader, arguments (so, angst if you squint a little), mentions of the reader being in a panicked state, mentions of mitsuya having injuries and bl00d all over him.
word count: 4,2k
note: thank you to the amazing @jean-kirsteins-real-gf for commissioning me! I enjoyed writing this piece a lot :) what a way to start the year! happy 2024 <3!!
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Your first meeting with Mitsuya is a memory that is always present in the forefront of your head. It isn’t something that you could easily ignore or brush off, how such a sweet boy who was about your age had a baby to his chest and a kid younger than you both holding his hand so tightly you could see their knuckles turning white. What a rare sight it was, for a boy so young to guide his sister (after you heard her address him as big brother), the gentle tone to his voice, the carefulness when holding the baby to his chest—his kind gesture seals the deal for you.
Shy and scared as a shrinking violet, your teary eyes face away from the two boys who had pushed you off the swing. Young you was never able to speak her mind so bravely, so freely—yet you watch as Mitsuya—(a total stranger at the time), come to your rescue with a baby wrapped closely to him. It is ridiculous the way he fights and scares them off so easily. At first, they mock him for his soft features, for his lavender eyes and for the tiny human being latching onto him. Yet a single kick to one of the boys’ stomach is enough to send chills down your spine. That looks painful, you think.
As you wipe your eyes, you are finally able to look away from the bullies scurrying away with their tails tucked between their legs, facing your knight in shining armor. Your savior. What do you say in such situations? What do you do? You forget to stand up and dust yourself, only realizing your position when your neck starts to hurt from craning it to look up at your hero.
“Are you okay?” he presents a warm hand which you gladly hold, and he pulls you up with so much ease as you wipe away the excess tears on your cheeks. “I’ve seen them around here, never been nice to anyone.” He continues to talk and you continue to give silent nods as a response. At one point, he questions your ability to speak and your face heats up.
“I’m just…”
“Shy?” The slight to his head, the sweet smile—the crush you developed for the boy was all too expected with how nice he was to you.
As the years pass by, the friendship the two of you have developed turned into something that none of you could quite decipher—not that you wanted to. Strangely, you enjoyed the confusion that paints his friends’ faces as you walk up to him, scold him for missing lunch, for not answering your calls—and he doesn’t blush nor does he shy away from returning your hugs, even more passionately than the way you almost tackle him to the ground. His arms have grown stronger than when you were kids, and the way he smells has become so sweet…so intoxicating—you feel dizzy when you pull away from him, unable to look him in the eye for the next 30 seconds as you listen to whatever lame joke Draken has to say about the two of you.
Unbeknownst to you, the boy remembers the day he saw you as though it was yesterday as well. Pretty girl crying on the playground, heart thrumming in his chest when he saw the tears painting your face—he wasn’t in Toman at the time, wasn’t even a thing to begin with. He lies to himself and says that his brotherly instincts kick in when he saw you, that the protectiveness stems from the fact that he would’ve done the same if it were one of his two little sisters. Nevertheless, whatever he was telling his stubborn brain would not go through. He hears you sniffle and helps you up, gives you a tissue to clean yourself and even questions your ability to speak—when you part your lips, your soft voice is what seals the deal for him at the time.
At the time, developing a crush could be from something as simple as saying hi a bit too excitedly or in Mitsuya’s case, the way you had always been nice to other kids on the playground. You weren’t that talkative, but you played with kids on the swing, built sandcastles with them—until those two boys bullied you and the lavender boy knew he had to do something about it.
Watching you grow was a privilege. In Mitsuya’s eyes, having you was perfect. Knowing you, growing with you, embracing you in his arms—you’ve become more beautiful, your eyelashes brush over your cheeks when you blink and your lips pout instead of wobbling when you get sad. Your eyes still hold the same amount of warmth in them as that summer day he met you. You smell as sweet as a jasmine, handle his little sisters as though they are your own, delicate fingers brushing their hair, fixing their bangs, prepping their meals—you treat him and his family with something that feels so special but he would hate to be falsely reading between the lines.
Empathy and kindness have always been one of your traits, you put other people first and although Mitsuya loved it when someone realized just how much of an amazing human being you were, he hated seeing you get taken advantage of. So nice, so sweet—an angel.
You are present when Toman becomes a thing, celebrate alongside the first few members of the biker gang the birth of something so small yet so significant (with a future so big, nobody could ever foresee it). However, violence was never your thing. And so a frown sits heavy on your face whenever you see small scratches on Mitsuya’s face, remind yourself to scold him later for the bruise on his jaw—how would he explain it to his sisters? They’re probably worried sick about him!
“It’s me, can you open up?” it is a rainy summer night, your favorites. You are wearing light pajama pants and a tank top as you approach the entrance door with your heart beating in your throat. At around 11:32PM, soft knocks come to your door. You don’t move from the couch at first. Maybe they’ve mistaken the property for theirs.
Until a second round of knocks come in, and you hear the muffled voice and—wait, you know that voice! As you rush to undo the locks, nothing could’ve ever prepared you for the scene awaiting you.
Mitsuya Takashi was everything yet nothing—a leader, an older brother and a best friend, but when he comes to you so late at night with bruises and cuts all over his face—purple and red knuckles, the bones almost visible, he hisses at the feeling of the alcohol against his wounds. Tears welling up in his eyes, the sniffles--you realize how utterly small and vulnerable he is, sitting on your red couch with legs that would not rest. His limbs shake and his head hurts, you doubt that he has eaten anything all day and he watches as you sigh and rearrange the first aid kit before making your way to the kitchen.
“I’m sorry,” his voice sounds harsh, the softness to it no longer there after having yelled so much during yet another one of Toman’s fights. You give no response. You don’t need his apologies, you do not need words right now—however, starting a fight was the last thing on your mind, and clearly not what Mitsuya was able to handle in such state.
“It’s alright,” you say as you make your way back to where he was and place food in front of him. Hot and delicious, the smell alone is enough to make his mouth water and he digs in with no regard to his wounds—you hear him hiss as he pulls the chopsticks away from his lips and for the first time ever, you give a small chuckle.
Mitsuya smiles at this, a little relieved that you weren’t that mad at him. However, he sees the way you sit and face away from him, how your eyes trail longer on the uninteresting, empty road out there rather than his face. This was unlike you. You were never one to avoid eye contact with him, having openly admitted that you find solace in his lavender eyes and his gentle stare. Clearly, something was wrong.
“Are you angry with me?” It is not a surprise that the emotionally intelligent man was able to pick up on the subtle hints you’ve thrown his way about your sour mood, and you suck in your lips for a bit before finally mustering up the courage to face him. Your eyes are tired, a deep frown sitting heavy on your face and painting your features in a darker light than usual. One that has the wounded man’s heart breaking for a bit.
“Only worried,” you want to say more, Mitsuya fixing his posture to look at you encourages you to do so. “Do you have to do this?” you whisper the question so softly, so afraid that someone in the empty apartment beside Mitsuya would hear. You don’t know why you are so afraid of being heard, perhaps because you know you are overstepping into a territory that wasn’t yours—something you’ve never had the chance to experience—Toman, the community, the people in it. They all meant so much to the guy sitting next to you, wouldn’t it be insulting to ask him if he has to put his life on the line for them every time?
Upon hearing those words, a sigh leaves the guy’s lips and you feel like sinking into the couch. Conversing with Mitsuya was easy, it felt natural and smooth—why was this topic so anxiety inducing then?
“You’ve been there… you know, when it all started.” His words serve as a reminder of the day it all started, the joy on everyone’s faces when Mitsuya handed them the old Toman uniforms. You’ve seen it, how dedicated all of them were. You were understanding—but this was too much.
“I have but—Takashi, this is ridiculous,” you turn to face him and Mitsuya’s eyes flicker down to your pouty lips before staring back at your eyes. He hates seeing you so upset.
“I know, I know…” his hand slides towards your own and you feel electricity through your body when you feel his touch, the way his fingers interlace with yours and his thumb brushes over the skin of the back of your hand. “I just have to and plus, kinda needed that beating as warm up.”
“Huh?” you stare at him confused, pushing him to continue.
“Toman’s been involved in something a bit nasty,”
“But you guys are used to nasty, right?” there’s nervousness in your voice.
“Yeah but this is… This is next level,” when Mitsuya leans forward with his elbows on his knees, the serious look on his face almost sends you spiraling.
“Who?”
“Hm?”
“Who are you fighting?” You’re fighting off high levels of anxiety as he keeps you waiting for a few seconds before replying.
“Tenjiku.”
“Tenji—“ you choke on your spit, unable to finish your sentence out of pure shock. “Tenjiku! You are fighting Tenjiku? No, no no no—you’re not,” you’ve grown agitated at the mention of the name of the gang, and Mitsuya suddenly finds himself unable to calm you down as he normally can.
“Hey, it’s okay we’ve got this, we always do—“
“You always do?!” You repeat, before pointing at his state. “Look at you! You’re barely coming back in one piece, think you can fight Tenjiku?”
“Well excuse you, Toman is also very strong.” Takashi also gets up from the couch, your words having too much of an effect on the usually calm and collected man. As he watches you pace around the living room of your apartment, his hands find themselves in front of his body, reaching towards you in a futile attempt of getting you to calm or sit down. But to no avail. It seems as though the mention of such dangerously reputable biker gang sets you off, and the possibility of what might happen to the man if not careful enough sends you spiraling down faster with each short inhale you take.
“That’s—what? A thousand men against a hundred? Don’t be ridiculous Takashi.”
“How am I being ridiculous? You know Toman,” his eyebrows are furrowed and his body stops moving, indicating that your words were starting to get to him personally. “We are strong, we got this.”
“You always come back beaten up and bloody!” you half yell out exasperated. “You don’t got this if most of your body is black and blue by the time a fight is over!”
The tension in the room has grown so thick. It’s unusual given your somewhat stable friendship with the man. Slight disagreements happened here and there over things that you could easily brush off and say ‘yes, I was wrong and you were right,’ or simply ignore it and pretend it never happened. But as your voice gets louder, and you show more and more evidence of how upset you are, it’s clear as day that ‘slight’ wouldn’t describe the situation accurately. You were having a full blown argument with Mitsuya, and it still hasn’t sunk in yet.
Mitsuya can hear his heart beat in his chest, he feels his ears heating up with the amount of negative feelings he was experiencing towards this—towards you being so against Toman winning. Did you really not believe in him? Were you faking being supportive this entire time?
“You know I’m still going to go and fight alongside them, right?” The tone Takashi uses with you is so unusual that you feel your eyes brimming with tears straight away. Cold and indifferent, two things you never thought you could associate with how the man felt for you.
“Well don’t come to my place for me to clean you up. Find someone else.”
“I will.” He doesn’t wait for you to open the door for him, doesn’t say goodnight as he usually does. He doesn’t even slam the door as he leaves. He is cold and distant as he walks further and further away from you, from the argument. Reality sets in and the heavy weight of your words and reactions to his announcement come flashing back like a short movie made to embarrass you, make you feel guilty.
“Fuck.”
--
“Mitsuya! You’re distracted!” Another punch lands on the lavender hair’s jaw, sending him flying into the ground with a loud thud. Although his injuries aren’t as bad as half of Toman’s, his disorganized state is sending most of his division members into a panicked state. He was never like this.
“Ugh--!” Before he can stand up, he is being kicked repeatedly in the guts until blood spills out of his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to roll over and away from whoever’s attacking him to avoid another harsh blow to his body. He gets on one knee with an arm around his middle, protecting his injuries and he coughs out blood before letting his wobbly legs help him stand up straight.
“Shit—sorry,” his hand wipes at the blood on his lips. He gets into a fighting stance and immediately, the look in his eyes changes into something fiercer, more passionate. He hates that the argument with you is the only thing on his mind. Your words, your tone, even the way you haven’t reached out to him in a couple of days. He hates fighting with you, despises the fact that maybe you were right, and that Tenjiku are beating them up. But one glance at his division members—at Toman, it reminds him that the roars of victory when the fight ends, the tears of joy. The pain in his body could never compare to the happiness and satisfaction of being in this gang, his second family. However, he cannot wait for everything to be over, and for you two to make up.
--
The universe has a strange way of showing that two people are meant to be. As Mitsuya makes his way back to his apartment, several groans escape his lips as he drags his bloodied and beaten up body up the stairs. He preferred going to yours because there were less stairs but…It looks like it wasn’t an option now. As his hand twists the knob of his door, he is fully prepared to see a mortified baby sitter asking him what exactly had happened—but instead, he sees something else. Or rather someone.
Earlier that night, things were a bit messy for you. Feeling as though you have been punched repeatedly in the guts wasn’t an enjoyable feeling—the nausea amplified by your shallow breathing, your nostrils hurting from the harsh cold air and your throat dry as a desert as your body refuses to swallow, instead sending you into an anxious state as it forgets to let the oxygen into your lungs. You choke as you get away from the window and run to the kitchen to grab some water, you open the tap and let the cold liquid hit your wrists, calm your nerves. You lean against the sink with your elbows propped against the surface and your lips pathetically wobble as tears threaten to spill. You couldn’t handle this anymore.
You were glad that Luna and Mana had gone down to sleep easily, a short story about a princess that wandered around the forest, slipping down a mystery hole into a magical world which she ended up ruling had the girls’ eyes sparkle, yet the tiredness was visible as their under eyes darkened, eyelids heavy and before you knew it—tiny snores resonated through their shared room. You checked on them a couple of times throughout the night, and although the sight of them sleeping so soundly had you place a hand on your chest as muscle memory, your body wanting to show its relief—your brain was running a thousand miles per hour. Takashi—how was he? Would he even make it back? You feel as though you were a bit harsh with him when telling him that you wouldn’t treat his wounds—but his stubbornness, you couldn’t handle it anymore.
There is a crackling noise coming from the fireplace, and you know that the coldness of your body calls for warming up but—but not now, not when Mitsuya wasn’t back home yet, and it was already approaching three in the morning.
As strange as it may seem, the invisible thread connecting the two of you was tugging from both sides and you find yourself staring at the door knob before it starts twisting. When the door swings open and a bloody Mitsuya comes in sight, the first thing that leaves your lips is a defeated “oh” before your feet rush you to the first aid kit you had brought with you from your place.
“What…are you doing here?” Takashi is the first to break the silence as he limps towards the couch. You don’t answer, you gently place him on the cushions before cradling his face in your hands. He doesn’t like the look on your face, how your eyes are brimming with tears and your bottom lip wobbles before you look away to hide the fact that you were very close to bursting into tears.
“I was never going to come.” You admit, but it was obviously a lie. Not with the way you carefully unbutton his uniform top and hand him a bottle of water to keep him hydrated.
“I know,” his voice had gone low, almost ashamed to be in such position.
“Did you at least win?” You whisper as you open the kit and pull out cotton and some disinfectant for his wounds, a bandage for his for his arms and legs. His uniform was ripped, destroyed from being tossed to the ground repeatedly, but the proud smile on his face eases your worries a bit. You miss seeing his lips curl up like that.
“Toman never loses.”
The next few minutes go by in complete silence, with the occasional hiss and groans from the man being treated and your soft apologies. The living room is filled with something so intense, ready to snap at any given moment. When Takashi groans as you press at a certain spot between his ribs, you freeze and look up at him.
“You broke a bone?”
“I figured with how hard I was getting beaten,” he holds his side with a slight wince.
“Takashi…” said man looks down at you, and his eyes soften when he sees that the tears you once held in were finally spilling out. “You’re so reckless, I—you stress me out,” you try to wipe your tears away, but it seems useless. The more tears fall down, the less control you have over your sobs. You are on the verge of a full breakdown and the man sitting before you on the couch can’t help but reach his hands towards you to smooth your hair, push it out of your wet face.
“Hey…hey I’m fine, I’m sorry that I caused you this much stress I just—“
“I don’t wanna lose you,” you cut him off abruptly, moving your hands away from your face and letting him fully cradle your face. “I can’t imagine living without you, Taka,” before your lip could start wobbling again, Takashi’s thumb gently brushes over it and pulls it down.
“You won’t lose me,” he whispers, leaning down to your level. “Ever. I know I get beaten up very often, but I always come back in one piece, don’t I?”
“But what if something happens?” you’re finally letting your worries float to the surface openly. Rather than telling him not to fight like last time, you are now fully admitting that you were anxious about his absence, how much he means to you and how his well being affects your life. “What if—what if you lose, you die and I don’t have you in my life?”
“That wouldn’t be so horrible, hm? I do cause you a lot of stress apparently,” he tries to joke, lift up your mood but you shake your head almost harshly, hands grabbing his wrists.
“I need you with me, in my life. I need you next to me, I wanna be selfish and keep you all to myself, Taka,”
“All to yourself?” His thumb then brushes your cheek, up to your eyebrows before pushing your sweaty strands out of your face. “Sounds like you got something else to say, don’t you?”
His voice isn’t playful, but rather encouraging. His lavender eyes are filled with something so comforting yet so intense. For the first time ever, you feel nervous in his presence.
“That I love you. I’m in love with you, you don’t even know how horrible it feels when I have to treat your cuts and wounds and have to watch you be so careless about something that is so precious to me,” your hands let go of his wrists to cradle his face, mirroring his actions. He melts under your touch, nuzzling into the palm of your hands like a feline craving heat during winter.
“Lucky you, I’d love to have you all to myself too,”
“You do?”
“I do,” he nods and tilts your head up to stare at him. “I have wanted you all to myself for so long, it’s kind of ridiculous. That warm smile,” his other hand traces your lips. “Those gorgeous eyes,” he leans in and presses a kiss to your eyelids. “This pure soul,” his lips then press against your forehead, between your eyebrows. “I’ve wanted you to be all mine for so long, watched myself fall in love with you harder with every moment we spent together. My heart, my soul—they yearned for yours. For your eyes to only stare at me, for those lips to only smile at me—I love you.”
You feel your cheeks heating up with every word, every honeyed sentence leaving his lips like a sweet melody. You can’t bring yourself to say anything in return, not when looking at him seems so difficult, your eyes, chest and whole body feeling hot at the realization that he feels the same.
Takashi was in love with you.
“You made my confession seem so lame,” you break the silence with a sniffle, and your face heats up even more when he starts laughing at your embarrassed state.
“It wasn’t lame at all, my love, my heart is about to burst at your words,”
“Don’t—you’re so comfortable already!” You try to pull away from him when he uses such sweet pet names on you.
“I am the luckiest to be with my best friend, my baby,” he presses his lips against your cheeks with a grin, going in for another kiss when he feels your hot cheeks. “Of course I’d be comfortable.”
Falling for your best friend seemed like the worst possible outcome when you realized you were developing feelings for him, but when he was holding you with so much care and staring at you with such warm eyes—all those worries melted away against the palm of his hand, accepting the love he had for you with open arms and an open heart.
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2024: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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sh1nch1r0 · 5 months ago
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𝖐_𝖊𝖎𝖘𝖚𝖐𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖋𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖚
❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁
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Baji x Reader
U have a crush on Baji and u find his insta stuff like that…
(ur best friend and u have matching insta names u are called Geto and ur Besties is Gojo)
❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁
„Do you think thats really him?“ u questione ur Best Friend.
„OMG just request himmm“she says annoyed and tries to take the perfect picture of her parfait.
„U can request him first then i do it“u plead.
„No,thats against the girls girl code“she says and smiles at you.
„Fine…but if anything goes wrong i blame u“u add.
❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁
U make ur way home from ur meet up.
Ur headphones were on and u were listening to ur Favorite Playlist as u heard a notification trough ur ear buds.
•K_eisuke accepted ur request
U clicked at the Banner and his instagram Account pops up.
He has a couple of pictures of cats and his friends in his feed and two story highlights.U look at the highlights they were nothing special either cats or some pictures of his friends with bikes.
❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁
„Did u follow her back???“ Chifuyu asks.
„NO.“ Baji says and looks at the Blonde.
„Whyyyy…..u i tought u like her“he says confused amd Baji gives him a annoyed look.
„Fuyu,shut it…..shes ugly and not my type“the black haired says and looks away.
„HUH do u listen to urself man?“his friend questions him.
„At first u cant stop speaking about her and now u call her ugly…Baji….are u sick?“ this earns him a gentle punch from Baji and so he shuts up.
❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁
It was 00:56 and u were scrooling trough instagram,as u refresh the site u see Baji posted a story.
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•K_eisuke mentioned draken_,the.realmikey,and fuyu.matsuno in his story
u click the like button and u see another notification pop onto ur screen.Ur friend mentioned u in her story twice.
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•g0joo. has mentioned you in her Story
•Caption:@Get_0 always asleep🫡😀
•U reposted this Story
•U added the Caption 🫥🥱🖕🏻
U swipe to the Second story of her and u see a picture of urself.
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•g0joo. has mentioned u in her story
•Caption @Get_0 „DELETE IT I LOOK UGLYYYY“
•U reposted the Story
•Caption DELETE THAT 👽🥹😀
And with that u turn or phone off,u plug in the charger and u get out of bed to do ur skincare,as u return u see a new notification on ur screen.
•K_eisuke has requested to follow you
•U accepted his follow request
❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁
„Watcha Lookin at“Baji screams at Chifuyu as they wait for the Traffic light to turn green.
„Just looking at her Insatgram Account“Chifuyu says louder so Baji could hear him over the roaring of the Engined.
„Lemme see“he says and tries to catch a glimpse.
„Follow her yourself u prick“Chifuyu answeres.
Baji just rolls his eyes takes out his phone and clicks on the follow back button on your profile.As he puts his phone back into his pocket the traffic light turns green.
❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁
The Night Air was cold and u couldn’t sleep so u stalk his instagram posts and the newest one catches ur eye.
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•K_eisuke has mentioned fuyu.matsuno
•Caption 🐈‍⬛Pussy
•fuyu.matsuno has commented When will u get Real Pussy?!
•U liked fuyu.matunos comment
The picture of him was hot,Baji was quiet popular amongst girls but u heard that only a few ladies were accepted in his Instagram Account.
And u are one of them.👹
❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁
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•Get_0 posted and mentioned g0joo.
•Caption My Personal Sleep Paralysis Demon🥹😬
•g0joo commented 😀do i need to save u
•fuyu matsuno liked this post
•k_eisuke liked this post
•k_eisuke commented Did u try giving him ur soul?🐈‍⬛
„See u have a crush on her“Fuyu says beside him
„I do…fuck.“he says quietly.
„Talk to her or text her“the dumb blonde suggests.
„Type Hey or…no type Did u get rid of ur Sleep paralysis demon?…text that“ Baji hates when his Friend tries to set him up but this time he follows his idea.
❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁
•One unread message for get_0
K_eisuke: Did u get rid of ur Sleep paralysis demon?
get_0:Sadly yes he jumped of my bed and left😔
K_eisuke:Thats Bad i am on my way to ur house to save u,is the Demon still in ur house?
get_0:Yes hes making noise in the Hallway
K_eisuke:Will save u:)
get_0:🥹💕
K_eisuke:🩷
2 Minutes pass
K_eisuke:I am outside.Wheres the Demon?
K_eisuke:I expect a Kiss in return for saving u💕😑
❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁
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rindoubug · 1 month ago
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make your problem mine too
pairing: bonten rindou haitani x gender neutral reader
content warnings: fluff, established relationship, slight angst, mentions of anxious thoughts, medication (antidepressants), petname sweetheart, doll, baby, love used, rindou is the sweetest, reader is super anxious, mild language, one sweet kiss is involved.
word count: 1.9k and some spare change
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It hasn’t been that long since you and Rindou started going out. It’s been a little over a year, to be fair but it’s like you two were made for each other. Rindou likes to call you corny but you know he secretly likes hearing you be all sappy (he’s never stopped you from doing so). Ever since Rindou laid his eyes on you, he knew that he had to have you at that very moment. As for you? It was love at first sight. 
“Hey Y/N, your boyfriend’s here!” Your coworker shouted while you silently screamed at her to keep her voice down. Thankfully you guys were at the back of the cafe, away from the prying eyes of customers. “What? Every time that purple haired dish of a man comes here, he specifically requests for you. Who does he think he is? Requests!” She laughed then nudged your shoulder while you were washing the dishes. You shake your head, laughing at her remark. “And why does that concern me?” You weren’t blind, you knew what she was telling you was true. But you didn’t want to acknowledge anything because every time you went to him and took his order, all he did was order his iced americano and left. Without even saying anything. It made your blood boil just thinking about it, does he think you were a toy? Well, two could play that game. You tightened your apron and confidently strided to the front, a purple blur entering your vision every time you got closer to the cashier machine.
“Hello, can I take your order?” You asked nonchalantly, not even bothering to look into his lilac eyes. You positioned yourself in front of the machine, an array of the beverages shown upon the virtual menu, ready to take his order. 
“Yes, you can.” A long pause. You were getting impatient and looked up at him. He was wearing a smirk, as he took one hand and raked back his purple tresses painfully slowly. You swallowed. 
“Okay, sir, and what is it that you’ll be having?”
“I think I’ll have a tall glass of you with a side of your number.” You stopped in your tracks as you heard his answer. “Excuse me?”He chuckled lightly, his downturned eyes casting some sort of spell on you. “You heard me sweetheart. Your number, please.” Heart hammering in your chest, you refrain yourself from giving out a snarky remark and decide to test him. “Sure. Meet me here after my shift,” His eyes lit up. “At 10PM.” You could visibly see his heart sink. It was only 2PM, the usual time he comes here to spy on you. Judging from his reaction, you realised he was a busy man so you were glad you could finally get him off your ass for once. You weren’t opposed to him, you were quite interested actually. But you were bored and wanted to play for a bit. “Okay sweetheart. 10PM it is,” He winked at you before turning around, heading for the door. “Remember though: the name’s Rindou.” He gave a small wave before disappearing into the crowd of people that just entered the cafe. You huffed but immediately put on your customer service face on and started serving customers.
The dreaded 10PM came and sure, you were a little excited to say the least. As you said goodbye to your coworkers, you walked out of the cafe and sure enough, there he was. Rindou. He was leaning against a motorbike, his gorgeous hair flowing in the wind. You gave him a small smile to which he returned with a cheeky grin. Oh, sue you, this was the most excited you’ve ever been. “Coming over here, doll? Today would be nice.” You nodded eagerly, closing the distance between you two – the rest was history. 
That was over a year ago. Since that day, you and Rindou have been inseparable. You found out he was the co-owner of a famous club, along with his brother. After 5 months of dating, you agreed to move in with Rindou. You guys have been living the best life with each other, practically knowing each other like the back of your hand. However, you kept one thing from Rindou. You were going to tell him eventually but time kept passing and you kept pushing it to the back of your head. Your mental health was really bad before meeting Rindou. You had to take antidepressants to even go on about your day. Life was just… hard for you. After meeting Rindou, your life did change for the better. Everything was fine and Rindou did his best to make you happy. You knew that you had to tell him sooner or later but you just couldn’t bear to. What if he leaves me? What if I burden him to the point of him hating me? What do I do when he leaves me? You couldn’t live without him in your life, he was everything to you. 
You stopped taking antidepressants a few weeks ago because you trusted yourself to be okay, to finally not rely on medication to keep you sane. It was okay for a while until you broke. You had so many anxious thoughts, you couldn’t even get out of bed. Rindou has been away for two days due to some private events at the club he had to attend to at all times. You were so glad he was away so he didn’t have to see you like this. You thought you’d get better before he came back home. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. You had no energy to even get out of bed, all you did was cry yourself to sleep and repeated the cycle, over and over again. On the day Rindou was coming home, you managed to take a short shower, just to pretend that you were okay in front of him. However, little did you know, Rindou knew you better than he did himself. 
“Baby? You awake?” Oh shit. Rindou. Shit, shit, shit he can’t see you like this. You mustered up the strength you still had and sat up on the bed with the blanket wrapped around you like a burrito roll. Rindou entered your shared bedroom and smiled when he saw you. He walked over to you and pinched your chin lightly, cooing at how cute you looked. “All dolled up for me baby? How considerate of you.” You smiled weakly, trying so hard not to crack. “Mhm, welcome back baby. Rindou, I’m a little tired today. Is it okay if I go to sleep first?” Rindou’s hands shift from your chin to your face. He bends down so he’s at eye-level with you and looks into your eyes, searching for something. “Are you feeling sick, love?” He feels your forehead with the back of his hand. “No, no. Just a little queasy. Maybe I ate something bad earlier.”
That was a lie. You haven’t eaten anything. Rindou starts to look concerned and you immediately grab his hands, holding them properly. “I’m okay, Rindou, don’t worry! It’ll go away tomorrow, I’m sure. I’m so sorry, babe.” Rindou’s eyes light up, the same look he gave you a year ago. He nods, patting your head. “Okay baby. I have some business to take care of so I’ll go to the living room. Give me a call from the bedroom if you need anything, okay?” You nod eagerly and blew him a kiss. He caught it with one hand as he walked out of the room to let you rest. 
You heaved a sigh of relief. Your head was buzzing, so many thoughts clouded your mind. You have to tell him… but it could wait for tomorrow. Rindou still has to go to work tomorrow so maybe you can stall it for a few more hours.
You groggily opened your eyes, rubbing the sleep away from your eyes. Ugh, your head was pounding. What time was it? You squint your eyes at the window, seeing sunlight seeping in through the blinds. They were still closed. It’s probably still daytime, you think as you check your watch. 4:02PM. Rindou should be at work by now… You suddenly feel the bed heavy on the other side - Rindou’s side. You shakily looked to your left to see Rindou sitting in bed, reading a book. He has his glasses on, perched cutely on the bridge of his nose, his eyes focused on the page he’s reading. He probably hasn’t noticed you yet. Tears immediately burst from your eyes as you realised that he probably skipped work for you. Because he was worried. You mentally hit yourself as you inched closer to Rindou, eventually settling on his thighs. 
Rindou looked down from his book and saw your tear stained face, so forlorn and meek. Rindou’s heart shattered into a million pieces. He hated seeing you like this. He reached over and caressed your cheek with so much care. “Hello, my baby. Did you have a good sleep? Why the tears my love?” Tears were streaming down your face at lightning speed at this rate and you sat up slowly to give him a hug. Rindou guided your legs on top of his so now you were straddling him carefully. “Rindou… don’t tell me you skipped work for me?” He smiled at you and cupped your face, patting down your hair as he explained. “Of course I did. How could I go to work when you looked like you weren’t feeling very well?” He pushed you forward suddenly, gripping you by the shoulders. “Do you have anything to tell me?” Your eyes widened slightly, slumping a little in Rindou’s grip. Guess it’s time to get it over with. 
You sobbed on Rindou’s shirt, crying hard as you explained. You were babbling at some times, making incoherent sounds instead of words but Rindou was as patient as can be. He listened intently as you howled, rocking you back and forth slowly. 
After your explanation, Rindou went out of the room for a while to get you a wet towel and a glass of water to wipe you down after all that crying. He hasn’t given his answer yet which made you feel anxious. But you didn’t have to worry. He was Rindou and he cared about you so much. “Y/N, thank you for telling me,” he pulled you in the previous position you two were sitting in since it’s the most comfortable way to talk while maintaining eye contact. “But I hope that you’d tell me sooner. These kinds of things… what did you call them? Your problems?” He shook his head. “Whenever you relay them to me, they won’t become a problem anymore. Because I’ll be here with you every step of the way and we’ll figure out a solution together. I’d never,” he leaned down to your neck, breathing in your scent. “ever,” he stole a few kisses on your neck, his teeth grazing over the skin slightly, not hard enough to leave a mark. “even think about leaving you.” He left one last kiss below your ear before moving to your cheeks. “Please don’t think of that ever again. Promise me?” You looked hard into his eyes, before crashing your lips with his. “I promise. I’m sorry, Rinnie.” 
He leans into you and nuzzles your nose with his. 
“It’s okay baby. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“I love you, most.” Always wanting to win, Rindou Haitani. You two cuddled and fell asleep again.
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hello! i'm yin and this is my first rindou fic :,D i've never written anything on tumblr or owned a blog but i hope you enjoyed reading. thank you for stopping by! i love rindou sm and this fic was basically 98% self indulgent... rindou reading is my #1 hc and i stand by that!!!! lmk if i missed out any tags, xx
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