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hoeneymilktea · 29 days ago

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deciphered ✧ tooru oikawa chapter 10 | daikokufuto race

Your cousin, Hajime Iwaizumi—whom you haven't seen in a long time, invited you to support him at the largest street racing event in Tokyo. He told you he was a part of the Seijoh Brawlers, one of the notorious top five gangs affiliated with the underground street racing scene. Once he introduced you to his leader, Tooru Oikawa, a.k.a. Cypher—your interest piqued, curiously wanting to understand the true meaning behind his alleged nickname.

✧ pairing — tooru oikawa / afab reader ✧ genre — erotica/smut, action romance, crime romance, dark romance (absolutely no dv/sa), psychological thriller, crime/detective mystery ✧ rating — very explicit, 18+ mdni ✧ chapter word count — 17.5k ✧ content warnings — violence, street racing, references to drugs, explicit sexual content, heavy angst. see below break for chapter specific warnings ↴

author's note — This fanfic is inspired by the beautiful and amazing fanart of Street Racer AU Tooru Oikawa. Artist is @aikk00. disclaimer — I do not condone the romanticization of the yakuza or the reality of gang life as I intended not to portray that kind of interpretation, nor promote the activity of illegal street racing. Do not seek out these types of experiences as this work is just a piece of fiction. Please remember to read at your own risk.

backseat lovers ⇠ daikokufuto race ⇢ my letters to you

✧ chapter specific content warnings: smoking, unfortunate events, blood, violence

You watched the sunset go down along the Tokyo skyline, the orange hue penetrating behind Oikawa’s side profile. His eyes shifted towards yours, the ends of his mouth curling up while he placed his left hand on your thigh.

“Are you excited?”

Smiling back, you gave him a quick chuckle and turned your head back onto the road. The tall bridge suspensions flashed forward as Oikawa pressed on the accelerator, taking his hand off your thigh to switch gears. Immediately, he placed his fingers back on your leg, tracing his index finger up and down the inseam of your pants.

You looked up into the rearview mirror and saw Iwaizumi’s white Subaru WRX STI following closely behind; Kuroo and Leia to your left in another lane. Once the engine of his red Nissan 350Z caught up next to Oikawa’s vehicle, their tinted windows rolled down. Kuroo exposed the same dragon tattoo on his right arm while the contradicting black sunglasses worn only at night rested on the bridge of his nose.

He gave a salute with two fingers towards Oikawa, revving his engine as he sped up in front of him. You heard a lighthearted chuckle to your left before feeling the transmission shift, the car pulling forward to catch up.

Oikawa was wearing his infamous Seijoh Brawlers bomber jacket again, white and shiny from the reflection of the sun. With his hand placed firmly on your thigh, you looked down at his long fingers—a dagger on his index, a cross on his middle, and the words “with God” written above his knuckles in kanji.

It was the beginning of April, where the start of Spring and the night of the Daikoku Futo car meet and underground street race took place. The one a few months ago where you met Oikawa was in the heart of Downtown Tokyo, a long trip away from the small wharf island you both were headed to. A couple of weeks ago, Oikawa had taken you out there to drift—and to do other things as well.

The trip down was familiar, recognizing all the landmarks and bridges along the way. This time, Oikawa was the one driving as you relaxed back into the seat, fixating your eyes on the bright sunset dropping down into the water. With the windows rolled down, you felt the cold and crisp Spring night air against your cheeks as the roar of Oikawa’s RX-7 echoed in your ears.

When you arrived at Daikoku Futo, the parking lot reeked of gasoline and loud music—the place packed to the brim filled with all kinds of cars, racing gangs, and people, all there to catch a glimpse of the races happening later. You recognized the same gangs as before from the Downtown Tokyo race; the sleek colored bomber jackets resting on the shoulders of the Fukurodani Squad, Karasuno Killers, and Nekoma Crew members.

The parking lot was crowded with regular car enthusiasts, all of whom were just there to show off their creative expression—large body decals and neon LED rim lights attached underneath their side skirts and bumpers. Most cars were just domestics, until you saw a crowd of people around a dark blue 1967 Ford Mustang with two white stripes down the middle—something you’d only ever find in older western movies. Old American imports were rare to find, so it was no surprise people were taking interest just to get a glimpse of it.

“Admiring Rambo’s ride?”

You looked back at Oikawa smiling to himself, his attention focused on finding a parking space large enough for all of the Seijoh Brawlers to settle down in—The Brawlers’ Pit, as they like to call it. He turned his head for a second, the smile remaining on his face.

“Who?”

“Wakatoshi Ushijima. It’s his first race back after a while.”

“Huh.” You placed your hand on the car window, leaning your head inward as you spotted a group of men in dark purple bomber jackets around the Ford Mustang. “First race back? What happened?”

“He went AWOL a couple years back when the Shiratorizawa Saints were actually considered in the top five before the Karasuno Killers picked up their feet.” He looked straight at an empty parking space, large enough for the Seijoh Brawlers to reside in as they followed closely behind him.

“His nickname’s Rambo?” You questioned, placing your left hand on the car door armrest as you reclined back into your seat. The Inarizaki Bois were only a few cars away, staring intently at Oikawa and the rest of the Seijoh Brawlers back-in to a few parking spaces, rear side facing inward. “That’s kinda funny-sounding.”

“Well, no one actually calls him Rambo except for the Red Devil himself.” Oikawa explained, placing his foot on the clutch as he shifted into first gear, pulling up the emergency brake. “It’s because he’s built like Sylvester Stallone in the Rambo Movies. Though, in my opinion, Stallone would have been a better nickname. Fits in with the Mustang he drives.”

He turned off the engine and leaned over to your side, grabbing your chin with his left hand to face him. Within a second, he pressed his lips against yours, giving you a soft and sensual kiss. Before pulling away, he gave you his infamous smirk—his eyes hooded down, and the left side of his mouth curled up. Yet, this time, you noticed there wasn’t a mischievous intention behind it.

“My love.”

You smiled, looking up into his eyes before grabbing the door handle to open it slightly—just for Oikawa to pull you in for another kiss. He placed his left hand on your face as his lips smashed into yours, swaying his mouth open while his right hand grasped your forearm, yanking the door back in. When he pulled away and opened his eyes again, he exhaled softly against your lips; his hot breath trickling against your chin before tilting your head and placing two kisses against your jaw, whispering in your ear.

“You know how I feel about you opening the door by yourself. Let me.”

Even after a couple months of dating, you’ve never once opened the door for yourself. You kept wondering if it was because he didn’t want you to touch his car handles, but Oikawa laughed and reassured that it wasn’t the case. He genuinely believed it was a basic gesture for treating his girlfriend with respect.

Like always, Oikawa turned off the ignition before stepping out of the RX-7, shutting the driver’s side door closed before walking over to your side and swinging yours open. His tall figure stood over; taking off his white Seijoh Brawlers Bomber jacket and handing it over for you to wear.

Underneath, he wore his Off-White open button up shirt; the fit slightly oversized atop a teal short sleeve, showing off his lean and toned body. He extended his arm out, offering his hand to help you up from your seat.

Leia helped you pick out an outfit to dress according to the car meet standards—nothing too complex or intricate where it made you stand out like a sore thumb, but also nothing too basic or comfy compared to her specified taste. In the end, you had nothing similar to what she wanted, so she forced you to go shopping and wear the exact same outfit just with different jackets—hers, DK’s red Nekoma Crew bomber while yours, Oikawa’s white Seijoh Brawlers bomber.

She always stuck to her basics, skin tight black cargo pants with a black mock neck long-sleeved sheer top, almost exposing a lacy black bralette underneath, the same one from when you first met her. DK’s Nekoma Crew bomber jacket rested over her shoulders eloquently while you had on the exact same outfit—matching down the same black boots she lent you. She loved the idea of “twinning with her bestie” and “showing these other basic bitches at the meet what you two were made of”.

Although it was something out of your comfort zone, both Leia and Oikawa reassured you looked “absolutely smoking hot” in the outfit, raising your confidence to an appropriate level. Oikawa kept touching you more than usual, grazing his hands along your waist and up and down your thigh—not a single moment passed where at least one of his fingers wasn’t on your body.

You stepped out of the car dusting off your tight black cargo pants, the boots on your feet reaching the ground. The street lights surrounding the Daikoku Futo parking lot shined bright against all the cars, the night sky already up in the air. In the distance, you saw Leia and Kuroo walking towards you, waving their hands from side to side.

Leia yelled out your name as she started running towards you, her work boots clicking against the asphalt. Her and Kuroo had on their black sunglasses, always confusing you as to why they wore them strictly at night. “My bitch!”

You smiled and waved your hands up in the air as Oikawa shut the car door behind you, pressing the lock button twice on his car keys. Kuroo followed closely behind Leia, both of his hands placed firmly into the pockets of his red cargo pants. He nodded his head up at Oikawa, shooting him a smirk before placing a hand on Leia’s shoulder.

“You look so hot, I know a bad bitch when I see one.” Leia winked, lightly slapping your ass with her left hand. You jolted forward, surprised by her actions as you rubbed the back of your thigh.

“I agree.” Oikawa chimed in behind you, placing another slap on your ass right after Leia.

“Okay, okay. Tetsurou’s still here, calm yourselves.” You exhaled, slightly embarrassed but still nervously chuckling along with the both of them. They gave you a cheeky smile before Leia linked her arm under yours, bringing you closer to her body.

Kuroo cleared his throat as he looked away, visibly disturbed. He noticed Kita hopping off the hood of his Nissan Silvia, a cigarette placed firmly in between his lips with his hands shoved into his pockets. He had on a brand new Inarizaki Bois hoodie, probably replacing the one that got slashed and tarnished a couple weeks earlier.

Kita really did live up to his nickname because the second you saw him hop off his car, he instantly popped up next to Kuroo without a trace from in between. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and exhaled a cloud of smoke, placing it in between his fingers as he flicked away the ash on the tip.

“Evening, fellas.” Kita piped in, focusing the attention on himself as he brought up the cigarette to his lips again, inhaling another drag of smoke.

“Sly.” Oikawa nodded his head, placing both of his hands in the pockets of his black jeans as Kita offered the cigarette in his direction. He raised his hand up, shaking his head in rejection before pulling out his own e-cigarette and inhaling vapor off the little bar.

“No thanks, I’ve switched to this instead.” Oikawa exhaled the opaque clouds through his teeth, wisps of vapor ascending up and dissipating into the night sky.

“Damn. What happened to the three of us smoking Sakanoshita’s cigars like the good ol’ days?” Kita cocked an eyebrow as he itched at the bandaid on his cheek. His eyelids remained hooded down as he dragged his clipped fingernails along the right side of his neck, where his infamous Inarizaki Bois snake tattoo remained. He turned to Kuroo, offering the lit cigarette in his direction.

“Sure. I’ll take a hit, why not?” Kuroo extended his arm out as Kita placed the cigarette between his fingers, handing it off to him. He shoved the filter in the middle of his lips, inhaling the smoke before his eyes shot wide open, coughing profusely as he dropped the cigarette on the ground. Placing his fist against his mouth, he hacked up a dry heave while crouching over.

Kita laughed, placing his hands in his pockets to pull out his box of cigarettes and a zippo-style lighter coated in a black-colored gunmetal. “I need a goddamn blunt, I can’t keep relying on these little fuckers anymore.”

As the three of them conversed within themselves, you caught up with Leia. You looked over your shoulder and noticed Iwaizumi and the rest of the Seijoh Brawlers propping open the hood of their cars, inspecting each and every part—making sure they were all ready to race. You then turned your head into the opposite direction, looking over at the brand new gang you haven’t seen before. You leaned towards Leia, pointing your finger at the man you saw earlier with the 1967 dark blue Ford Mustang.

“Who’s that guy?” You recalled, not bothering to remember what his name was despite Oikawa already explaining earlier.

“Oh, Wakatoshi Ushijima, my ex?” Leia cocked her eyebrow at you, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Ex?” Your eyes widened, your head slightly tilting towards her. Leia shifted her body forward, leaning off Oikawa’s RX-7.

“Yeah, ex-boyfriend. I used to date him when my brother was still alive. I met him through Keishin, actually—back when he used to go by Ukai and race for the Karasuno Killers.” Leia pouted her lips as she looked directly at Ushijima talking to a man in a dark purple bomber jacket with the moniker “Red Devil” on the back.

The nickname clicked familiar in your head, recognizing when Oikawa mentioned Ushijima's status from a couple years ago. “Tooru said he goes by Rambo.”

“Yeah, no one really calls him that though. Personally, I always called him Stallone. It’s actually what everyone calls him anyways.” Leia smiled and placed her hands inside her cargo pants. Oikawa mentioned that before; saying he thought it was a better fitting nickname for him.

“The Shiratorizawa Saints were known for never racing dirty because Ushiwaka’s father was a cop, that’s why he has that old American beauty—it used to be his dad’s. They actually were the top street racing gang even before the Nekoma Crew or the Seijoh Brawlers were ever formed.”

You looked back at Ushijima, a stoic expression plastered on his face as he talked to another man with grey hair and his eyebrows tilted down, a look similar to Iwaizumi’s aloof gesture. “Tooru also mentioned he went AWOL. Is that true?”

“Yeah, he went missing a few years ago, no one knew where he went. After his disappearance, they fell from the top five. Behind their backs, everyone started calling them the Shiratorizawa Sinners because they lost their best racer, diminishing their gang down to the bottom.”

You turned your head back at Ushijima, his big and tall figure towering over the men he was talking with. The dark purple bomber jacket on his shoulders looked small compared to his torso, just barely fitting past his long arms. It seemed Leia had a type—first Ushijima and now Kuroo, only going after men with large muscular builds.

“Some people said it was because of him, the Red Devil.” Leia pointed at the man with spiky red hair and a long, ominous grin on his mouth—the ends of his thin lips reaching from ear to ear. “But Tetsurou and I found out that wasn’t the case.”

“Really?” You lifted both of your eyebrows, not taking your eyes off the crowd surrounding the Shiratorizawa Saints.

“Yeah, it’s a long story though. I’ll tell you later about it.”

None of the racers in their gang had matching car colors like the Seijoh Brawlers, Nekoma Crew or Inarizaki Bois. All of their members had their own unique car color and model; noticing the guy with grey hair previously talking to Ushijima leaning against a black 1999 Acura NSX-T. He crossed his arms over his chest, the back of his dark purple bomber jacket labeled “Shadow”.

“Is this (y/n)?” Kita chimed in, pointing his index finger nonchalantly at you. He gave you a reassuring smirk, one that was different to Oikawa’s or Kuroo’s.

“Yeah, that’s her!” Leia grabbed your arm, pulling you up from RX-7. She leaned in close to your face, whispering into your ear. “Introduce yourself.”

You grabbed Kita’s cold and bony hands, shaking his palm delicately. He had his hood over his white hair, dark eyebags forming underneath his bottom lashes. A bandaid rested against his left cheek, a few scars up above on his right eyebrow and underneath his chin. He stood just a little shorter than both Kuroo and Oikawa, but nonetheless just as intimidating.

“Shinsuke Kita of the Inarizaki Bois, but you can call me Sly Fox. I work with Cypher and DK sometimes.” A few cigarette ashes stained the tips of his fingers as he released his grip on your hand, placing it back into his front pocket. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Sly Fox.”

He gave you a smile before looking down at his feet, leaning over his body. In an instant, he turned around, looking back at the Inarizaki Bois vaping e-cigarettes and smoking joints. The smell of marijuana clouded your nose, infiltrating all throughout the parking lot. Kita whipped his head back, the same sly smile remaining on his lips. “Say, are you hungry?”

Leia chimed in, grabbing your shoulders and digging her fingers into your skin as you both jolted forward.

“Yeah, she’s hungry. I am too.” Her voice sounded rushed and impulsive, begging for food.

Kita chuckled, pointing his thumb back at the Inarizaki Bois. “One of my boys, Ghost, owns a shop called Onigiri Miya. You can go over and get some for free if you’d like. Just tell them Sly Fox sent ya.”

Leia excitedly chuckled against your ear, patting your shoulders roughly three times. “Go on, go get some for me.”

“What? Why don’t you come with me?” You asked as she took Oikawa’s bomber jacket off your shoulders, exposing your sheer top. Leia rolled her eyes and placed her hands right underneath your shoulder blades, pushing you forward in the direction of the Inarizaki Bois.

“Look, Atsumu Miya is over there. I fucking hate that prick because he fucked up my car a while ago. I can’t be near that fucker, he’s just gonna piss me off.” She pushed you forward again, Oikawa’s bomber jacket slipping entirely off your arms. “Don’t be shy, you’re a bad bitch, remember?”

Your boots dragged along the asphalt as she pushed you further towards the Inarizaki Bois before stopping in place. Looking back, you saw Leia cover her head with Oikawa’s bomber jacket, trying to hide herself behind Kuroo from Atsumu Miya. Oikawa leaned forward and yanked his jacket from atop her head, to which she swung a fist in the air, punching the side of his arm in return.

You turned back around, fixing the top of your cargo pants before placing your hands into the two main pockets. While looking around, you spotted the small shop stand in the corner, a few racers lining up and paying for the small rice balls on top of a long table. The man handing out the food and taking orders wore a black cap and a fitted black shirt, the exact same snake tattoos Kita had on his body imprinted on the side of his neck.

What was left of his short hair peeked out under the cap, a few strands of dyed gray locks resting against his ears. The line was long, and you were quite keen for food—in addition, Leia was waiting for her portion as well. You didn’t want to take too long, and wondered if it was appropriate to just go up to him instead, cutting the line. Sly Fox said it was okay, right?

The end of the table had premade onigiri, all wrapped in plastic with the pull tabs and everything. As you passed the section containing the Inarizaki Bois and their cars, smoke infiltrated through your nose, instantly slicing through the opaque clouds of marijuana and cigarettes. A few eyes laid on you—one of them you recognized as Atsumu Miya, leaning against the front of his car.

His arms crossed over his black Inarizaki Bois hoodie, dressed exactly the same as Kita from head to toe. On the back of his hoodie in a slanted font with all capital letters, the moniker “Thrasher” was plastered across from one side to the other. In the corner of your eyes, you saw him give you a sly smirk, similar to Kita’s. It must have been an Inarizaki Bois quirk because when you turned your head back to the onigiri stand, Osamu was giving the exact same one as well.

You looked back in the distance—watching Oikawa, Kuroo and Kita have a deep conversation together as Leia placed DK’s bomber jacket over her head while leaning over the RX-7, patiently waiting for you to grab food. Shoving both of your hands into the front pockets of your cargo pants, you exhaled through your nose and walked up to the front of the line.

You approached the edge of the table, raising your right hand up to speak to Osamu. The same snake tattoo rested on the left side of his neck, just like the rest of the Inarizaki Bois. An intricate black and white fox tattoo rested on his right arm, trailing all the way up his bicep. He fixed all of his attention on his long line of customers, not even noticing you cutting the line.

“Uh, hello?” You cleared your throat, waving your hand to get his attention. He continued to pack the premade onigiri into plastic bags, handing them out to car enthusiasts and street racers. Not trying to be rude, you raised your hand again and reiterated your greeting. “Uh, hello, excuse me. Sly Fox sent me here.”

Osamu didn’t notice your attempt to communicate and continued to pack the onigiri into bags. Irritated, you grabbed a few plastic wrapped rice balls into your hands without saying a word. The onigiri felt warm against your palm, the inside of the plastic forming droplets of condensation from the freshly cooked rice and seaweed. You looked up at Osamu again, his attention everywhere else except on you.

“I’ll just take these if that’s okay,” you raised your voice, backing up from the stand, waving a rice ball in the air.

Just as you were about to turn around, two rough hands grabbed onto each of your arms behind you, digging their rings into your skin. Instantaneously, you whipped your head back, only to be greeted by another tall man in an Inarizaki Bois hoodie—a bandaid resting on the side of his jaw and the same snake tattoo on the left side of his neck.

You looked up, noticing his thin, foxlike green irises—the whites of his eyes strained and red in color. He furrowed his eyebrows, half of his middle part slicked back against his dark brown hair and the other part wisped over his forehead. In the corner of your eye, you looked at your left shoulder, noticing a joint rested in between his index and middle finger—the crutch digging down into your skin while the tip emitted a trail of smoke next to your ear.

“You know you have to pay for those, babygirl.”

His croaked voice was dark yet soft-sounding, his breath smelling like marijuana. You winced at the nickname he called you, scrunching your nose and curling down the ends of your mouth. Placing the bundle of onigiri closer to your chest, the man leaned in, tightening his grip on your shoulders as his silver rings grazed against your sheer top.

“We have a policy here to punish thieves.” He smirked slyly, the same one you saw on Kita, Atsumu and Osamu.

“Uh, I was sent here by Sly Fox,” you jolted your head back when his face got a little close for your comfort. “He said I could get some food for free.”

You pointed over at Kita behind the man, his legs spreading slightly in the straight-fit black jeans he was wearing. Sly Fox was displayed on the back of his hoodie in a slanted and sliced font as he stood firmly on his feet. The man in front of you looked over his shoulder straight at Kita, exposing his own racer nickname on the back of his hoodie.

Enigma, it read. A name with a similar meaning to Oikawa’s own Cypher.

He released his grip on your shoulder, bringing his right hand up to his face as he brought the joint right up in between his lips. The man inhaled a large hit, the tip of the blunt burning red from his long drag. He tilted his head back and opened his mouth, letting all of the smoke escape past the front of his teeth. After exhaling the rest into the air, a whiff of his marijuana breath infiltrated your nose.

He cocked an eyebrow and handed you the joint. “How important are you to know who Sly Fox is?”

Although you weren’t against the idea of smoking marijuana, you turned down his offer because you didn’t accept any kind of drugs from strange men, especially ones that you’ve never met before. “Uh, who are you, first of all?”

“Rintarou Suna. People here call me Enigma.”

The infamous Inarizaki Bois smirk grew across his face as he brought his left hand up to his forehead, running his fingers through his left middle part while pushing his bangs back. “And who’re you, babygirl?”

“Please don’t call me that, I have a boyfriend.” You snapped back as your eyelids thinned, still wincing at him. Suna chuckled, placing his hand inside his pocket.

“Relax, I just wanted to know your name.” Nonchalantly, he nodded his head up while peering down at you. The redness in his eyes made him a lot more intimidating than he should have been, the blood vessels in his sclera almost ready to burst right next to his irises.

Your eyes thinned just like his, hesitant to give him your name. Nonetheless, you mumbled out your first name, watching his expression lighten up.

Suna’s eyes widened as the right side of his mouth curled up into a smirk. He placed the joint from his fingers in between his lips, extending his right hand out to greet you. Mumbling through his teeth, he sucked in a breath of air through the crutch of the joint, letting out another exhale. “Oh, thee (y/n). Indigo’s cousin.”

You brought the onigiri closer to your chest, the warmth of the rice feeling hot against your black sheer top. Shaking his hand, you felt the grip of his multiple silver rings digging into your fingers. Confused about his statement, you raised your eyebrows and titled your head down. Indigo sounded familiar, but you ultimately forgot which racer that nickname belonged to.

“Who?”

“You don’t know your own cousin’s nickname? Interesting.” Suna dragged his fingernail against the inside of your palm, slightly tickling your skin as he let go of your hand. Pursing your lips, you gave him an uncomfortable expression before he placed the joint in between his fingers again. “Kinda figured; you look nothing like him. Are you sure you’re his cousin, or are you lying to me?”

“Watch your fucking mouth.” You instantly retracted your hand back, wiping your palm on your cargo pants. A scowl formed on your face, the corners of your lips turned down while your eyebrows cinched in. Irritated as you were, Suna chuckled—a slight cough erupting from his lips.

“Ooh, feisty. Playing hard to get, I see. I like that about you.”

You winced, a visible expression of discomfort resting on your face. Clutching the onigiri closer to your body, you tried your best to move him out of the way—shoving his right shoulder to the left. “Um, okay? Bye.”

Suna grabbed your forearm, restricting you from moving any further. He smiled straight at you again, despite the uncomfortable expression on your face. “Relax, I was just teasing.”

The silver rings on his fingers pressed cold against your sheer top, your skin able to feel the touch of the metal as he tightened his grip around your wrist. Just before letting go, Suna placed his fingers up to his lips again, inhaling another hit off the joint. He released a cloud of smoke through his nose, elucidating that he wasn’t done speaking.

“Anyways, you seem pretty cool—I wanna smoke you out.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard what I said, I wanna smoke you out. We can sit in my car, light another joint and listen to Biggie. Maybe even Tupac or Ice Cube, if you’re into that.”

It seemed almost too peculiar; his attitude and behavior almost mimicked Oikawa’s when he first met you up to a certain point. Immediately, you could tell Suna was a cassanova—he had a cool, calm and collected demeanor while simultaneously still being an asshole. Why were all the street racers flirtatious? Was that a common thing for people, specifically women to experience in a car meet? Who did this guy think he was?

You slowly shook your head, declining his offer. “Listen, I’m sure that seems fun and all, but like I said, I have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah, and that boyfriend is me.” A familiar voice popped behind Suna, belonging to no other than the leader of the Seijoh Brawlers himself.

Suna turned around with the joint in between his lips, only to be met with Oikawa glaring straight into his eyes. He jolted back a bit as Oikawa lowered his eyelids, the bags underneath his lashes growing darker. A deep guttural sound emitted from the bottom of his throat as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Enigma, stop flirting with my girl.”

He scoffed before sucking his cheeks, inhaling a long drag from the filter. As he exhaled, he placed his left hand on Oikawa’s shoulder, patting his fingers against the bomber jacket fabric. “So she’s your girlfriend? You scored a pretty one, Cypher. You’re lucky you got to her first before I could.”

“Get lost, Enigma.”

“You’re on Inarizaki Bois territory, Cypher.”

Suna chuckled as he flicked the ash off the tip of his joint, placing his left hand inside his pants pocket before turning around in the direction of the Inarizaki Bois, walking away. He whipped his head to the side, the same smirk growing across his face. “Maybe I’ll see ya again sometime soon, (y/n). Don’t bring your boyfriend next time.”

Without looking back, Suna placed the filter in between his lips again, taking a long drag. Oikawa grabbed your forearm and kept your body close to his, guiding you back to the Brawlers’ Pit. You still carried the onigiri in your arms as he dragged you away, quickening his pace as he took long strides against the asphalt.

“Tooru, slow down, I still have a bunch of onigiri in my hands,” you requested, digging the bottom of your boots against the asphalt. Oikawa quickly turned around and gripped your shoulder, leaning his head close to yours. He kissed your cheek before sliding his lips towards your ear, loudly whispering against your helix.

“Don’t ever talk to him again, he’s dangerous.” He leaned back, dragging his hand down your arm while intertwining your fingers together, pulling you forward. You let go of your hand to hold up the rest of the onigiri against your chest, the food now feeling cold.

“What?! So are you though?” You raised an eyebrow, confused on how he could think Suna was dangerous. You wondered what he could have done, or what his reputation was amongst the underground street racing scene. “Who is that guy anyway?”

Oikawa shifted his eyes to the right, looking into the direction of the Inarizaki Bois. He made eye contact with Suna again, watching him place the joint back between his lips. While grabbing your arm, he pulled your body forward, forcing you to follow him back to his car.

Once you both were far from Osamu’s onigiri shop and the rest of the Inarizaki Bois, Oikawa leaned in close to your face, staring straight into your eyes. You could tell he was upset; the same eyes filled with rage and fury back when he rescued Kita that one night.

“That’s Rintarou Suna. He’s the best marijuana dealer in all of Tokyo.” Oikawa brought you closer to your chest as he looked over throughout his surroundings, checking to see if anyone could hear him.

“That’s it? You do the exact same thing.” You mumbled against his chest, squishing the onigiri in your arms.

“He threatens my business.” Oikawa removed his bomber jacket, placing it over your shoulders. “He’s too good at it. I can never get a single fucking clue about him or who he’s dealing to. He reminds me too much of myself.”

“Is that why you’re jealous of him?”

“Not jealous—afraid.”

The ends of his mouth shifted to the left, his eyebrows pinching close together. He released a guttural sound in the back of his throat, obviously irritated just by talking about Suna.

“Look, you need to stay away from him—or any of the Inarizaki Bois, for that matter. Including Sly Fox, even though he’s my business partner. They cause nothing but trouble.”

He slid his hand down to your waist—gliding his fingertips across your back against the sheer fabric of your top. In an instant, you felt his hand slip into the back pocket of your cargo pants, bringing you closer under his arm as you bumped into his side. “Also, he was flirting with you. Nobody fucks with my baby.”

Oikawa mentioned that before the Inarizaki Bois were formed, Suna used to be a frequent customer of his, coming almost weekly—one time, daily—for his regular dosages of a few grams. Once Kita initiated him in, Suna immediately dropped Oikawa as his plug. Within a few weeks, Oikawa saw him dealing his own corner—with nonetheless Kita himself.

Suna was the absolute best marijuana dealer out of all the Inarizaki Bois. He raked in big money for them; and drugs was his specialty, specifically the infamous green plant. It pissed off Oikawa; his business slowly diminishing until he only relied on the one source that never failed to make him the most money—cocaine.

Suna reminded Oikawa of himself—rising up to the top so fast, straight out of nowhere, just like when he was still in the Kitagawa clan back in Osaka. He especially became concerned when Kita would mention how well Suna was doing on his own when dealing with snitches, thieves and rival gang members. He remembered when he was still a quiet and observant guy—not knowing he was becoming more ruthless by the day.

It even scared him when he found out Suna was being called Enigma by the Inarizaki Bois—the nickname rooting off of his own, Cypher. He kept that same cool, calm, and collected yet mysterious, hard-to-crack demeanor—the exact same reason why Oikawa was nicknamed Cypher in the first place.

Kita and the rest of the Inarizaki Bois always had that aura to them. Kita created the Inarizaki Bois after he met Kuroo, suggesting he should form his own car club. At first, it really was only that—consisting of Aran Ojiro, a buddy of his growing up and a pair of twins that he introduced to Kita; Atsumu and Osamu Miya.

Just like Suna, the two of them were absolute beasts on the road, both almost just as good as Kita himself. While Suna followed a more tight knit regimen closer to Kita’s style of racing, Atsumu and Osamu had their own special technique—a completely unique form of driving compared to anyone else’s. It could only be performed with two people, and the Miya twins pulled it off extremely well.

Somehow, the underground racing scene didn’t like how Atsumu and Osamu had the exact same car—color, model, year, modifications—anything. It was almost impossible to distinguish one from the other. To restrict their privileges, they either allowed them to each get their own unique car, or only be counted as one racer all together—meaning if they win a race, only one of them gets counted, no prize money doubled either.

This led to a loophole formed by Atsumu himself—their special racing technique called the Twins’ Quick Attack. While racing, they both come up to their designated target; Osamu on the left and Atsumu on the right. They both would keep a constant speed, leveling up with the driver until Atsumu is able to catch them in a vulnerable spot. That’s when he would yank the wheel, ultimately thrashing into the side of their target’s car. He would do it a couple of times until it caught them off-guard, letting Osamu quickly maneuver through like a ghost, winning the race for the both of them.

Although being business partners with Kita led to them settling their differences, Oikawa always felt threatened by the Inarizaki Bois. They were always a hassle to deal with when racing, especially Suna. Back at the Downtown Tokyo race a few months ago, Iwaizumi explained that Suna would have almost won if he hadn’t pushed himself hard enough—it was the first time he saw you in a decade and he didn’t want to disappoint, nor make a fool out of himself.

Suna was in the lead until Iwaizumi remembered he still had a little bit of nitrous oxide left in his car’s system, ultimately pushing the WRX to the fullest extent towards the end of the race. He might have wrecked the engine and burned out his exhaust, but it was all worth it—he won the million yen and saw a smile on your face.

When Oikawa knew that Suna was giving Iwaizumi and the rest of the Seijoh Brawlers a hard time, that was when he knew he’d always be a threat, no matter what. Suna crossed the line when he started flirting with you—knowing exactly how he persuaded women to sleep with him. It was similar to the way Oikawa would get women to sleep with him too in the past—playing the “bad boy” façade, manipulating their perception of him just so it would be easier to get into their pants.

Unfortunately, he used that exact same tactic to get with you as well—playing the bad boy façade; using his past to manipulate your perception of him; making you feel sorry for his trauma and thinking he was someone different than he actually was. Little did he know, you truly cared for him; showing complete empathy to the false version he created of himself. It made him rethink his decisions and contemplate on his true intentions, completely regretting ever lying to you in the first place.

You both walked back over to Leia, Kuroo, and Kita, who were conveniently talking with three more people. You recognized them all, the one with spiky grey hair was Kotarou Bokuto; the one whose Mitsubishi Eclipse got wrecked in the Downtown Tokyo race.

The man standing right next to him in a grey bomber jacket with black hair was Keiji Akaashi, his expressionless yet intense stare reminding you of Iwaizumi. Finally, you recognized the same guy with his hair tied back into a small bun standing next to Kuroo—Kenma Kozume, the one who handed Oikawa the two million yen.

“Cypher, my dude!” Bokuto exclaimed enthusiastically with a large smile on his face, reaching out to do a basic handshake with two hand slaps and a fist bump. “Whaddup?! Been a long time, no see!”

“Nice to see you too, Blackjack.” Oikawa turned his head to greet Akaashi and Kenma with one head nod each—both of them returning the favor without saying a word. He pushed you in the direction of Leia before grabbing onto Kita’s forearm, pulling him away from the group.

As you were left to socialize, Oikawa dug his fingers into the fabric of Kita’s hoodie, his nails sinking deep into his skin. When they walked far enough; with all of his force, Oikawa pushed Kita back against a random car before grabbing onto the front of his Inarizaki Bois hoodie, grasping all of the thick fabric into his hand. Shoving his face close to his ear, Oikawa whispered an ominous threat—one that made Kita’s pupils constrict and slightly widen, an eyebrow cocked up to the side.

“Watch your fucking boys, Sly. Especially Enigma.”

His voice sliced through like a knife, animosity brooding behind his words. That was the first time Kita experienced Oikawa becoming aggressive with him. Usually he kept his cool, calm, and collected attitude—but in it of itself, that was just as frightening. You never knew when, where or with whom he would unhinge the treacherous and violent side of his personality. It all depended on what pissed him off and Kita knew exactly what—or who made that happen.

“Cypher, relax.”

Oikawa’s eyebrows furrowed before letting go of his grip, belligerence seeping out of his pupils. Kita swallowed hard, a stinging sensation forming in the back of his throat. He smelled like cigarette smoke and marijuana, the putrid scent of his clothes infiltrating through Oikawa’s nose. He glared back down at Kita before immediately turning around and walking back towards the group, his hands placed firmly into the pockets of his bomber jacket.

In the distance, he heard Bokuto’s boom of laughter erupt from his throat, loudly laughing in the middle of everybody. He had an energy drink in his right hand, sloshing the black and yellow container as he explained a story.

“…Yeah it fucking sucked dude, we had to bust out the shop loan to fix everything!” Bokuto maneuvered his hands all over the place, using his movements to speak more than his words.

“If only he knew how to drift.” Kuroo turned his head to Akaashi, who only shrugged in response.

“Hey! I do know how to drift, Spades has been teaching me!” Bokuto refuted, placing his left hand on his hip. His bomber jacket moved back a little bit, almost too small of a fit for his large figure. He turned to Akaashi for reassurance, for which all he responded with was an expressionless stare.

“Anyways,” Kuroo turned towards you, placing a large slap on Kenma’s back. He jolted forward, the tool belt around his waist sliding down his slim figure. “(y/n), this is Kenma Kozume, or formally known as Snake Eyes. Pretty sure you guys have heard of one another.”

Kenma softly smiled at you with his eyes hooded down. A bandaid rested across the bottom of his chin, a similar dragon tattoo situated on the right side of his neck, just like Kuroo and Oikawa. He extended his arm out, his slim and nimble fingers caressing against your palm as you shook his hand.

“Nice to finally meet you.”

“Same to you, Snake Eyes.”

You noticed Kenma’s right arm was decorated with intricate snake tattoos with their eyes wide open, similar to the design on Kita’s neck and the rest of the Inarizaki Bois. In his left hand, he carried a small half-eaten bag of chips, a few crumbs left over on the side of his cheek. He pulled his arm back before opening the bag and popping a few in his mouth, snacking on the chips while he faced Kuroo.

“Anyways, Snake Eyes here is going to be racing in for the Nekoma Crew this time.” Kuroo placed his arm around Leia, leaning back on Oikawa’s RX-7. She unwrapped the onigiri in her hands, taking a large bite out of the rice ball.

“Oh? I remember you guys mentioning he doesn’t race, though.” You crossed your arms, giving him a smile.

“I only race when it’s necessary,” Kenma pointed in the far distance towards the bundle of red and maroon cars in the opposite corner of the parking lot, a shiny red 2015 Toyota GT86 parked in the middle with a large black modified wing attached to the rear. “I also brought my eighty-six today, wanted to give her a spin tonight—you know, show her off and whatnot.”

You nodded as you looked at his car, admiring how the paint shined underneath the street lamps and how the drifting tires were thin with sleek black rims, dark as night. Kenma popped another chip into his mouth, a muffled crunch erupting from the back of his teeth as he chewed quickly on his snack.

Kenma fixed his eyesight on the figure behind you, nodding his head up to Oikawa as he continued to munch on his chips. “Cypher.”

“Snake Eyes,” Oikawa responded as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in close. You continued to eat the onigiri in your hand as he reached down and grabbed one from your arm, unwrapping it in front of your face.

“Excited to race you.” Kenma wiggled his eyebrows up, popping another chip into his mouth.

Oikawa shoved the rice ball through his teeth before he could respond, shaking his head as he chewed. You heard him rush a swallow, covering back the half-eaten onigiri in his right hand. “Oh, no. I’m not participating in the second race. I only go with the thirds.”

You remembered Iwaizumi mentioning a couple months back how the third race was always reserved for the best and only the best—Oikawa, Kuroo and Kita always being the main participants in them. It was also the one that held the largest cash prize, the money coming from the underground street racing community pitching into the pot. Oikawa never bet larger than half of what he could, always gaining and never losing.

“I’m making Indy race instead,” Oikawa brought his right arm up again, placing another large bite into the onigiri. You scratched your head as you questioned to yourself who Indy was again, forgetting if he was referring to Iwaizumi. You recalled him always watching the American Indy 500 races on television with your father whenever they were on, sitting a little too close in front of the TV, cheering on for his favorite racers. “I’m sure you can handle him.”

Kenma crunched on another chip, intensely staring back at Oikawa. They locked eyes for a moment, an underlying tension between the both of them every time they had an interaction.

Nodding his head, Kenma copied the same cocky smirk Oikawa gave him. “Oh, we’ll see.”

“…But I wasn’t planning on racing tonight.” Iwaizumi rested his hands on the edge of Kyotani’s 1995 white Toyota MR2, the hood propped up while he scanned his eyes throughout the interior.

“Just do it, okay? I already told Snake Eyes you were racing.” Oikawa slipped his right hand through the back pocket of his black jeans, reaching in and grabbing the e-cigarette out of his pocket. Iwaizumi turned around and furrowed his eyebrows, glaring back at Oikawa with his gloved hands placed firmly on either side of his hips.

“Now, why would you do that?” Iwaizumi sneered, crossing his arms in the process.

“Because you’re the second best.” Kyotani peeked his head out from the driver’s side, his car door already wide open—hearing every bit of their conversation. “Hate to admit it, but you’re the best fit to race on their level.”

“Why don’t you race instead, Mad Dog?” Iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow, shutting the hood of his MR2. Kyotani chuckled as he revved the engine, hearing the cyclic gears grind as they tested the RPM speed.

“Fuck no,” Kyotani popped his head out again, looking directly between Iwaizumi and Oikawa. “I heard Thrasher and Ghost are participating too. Ya think I’m gonna fucking win against them?”

Iwaizumi scoffed, rolling his eyes to the side as he watched Oikawa take in a large hit off his e-cigarette, letting the thick, opaque cloud of vapor trickle out through his lips. He exhaled all at once, the smell of caramel and smoke exhaust penetrating through the air. Iwaizumi looked back across the parking lot over at you, Kenma, and Leia conversing with one another against the side of Kenma’s GT86, eating chips and onigiri while laughing.

“…So when I first started drifting, Kenma was trying to teach me instead of Tetsurou. When I tell you, the LOOK on his face when we were spinning, this bitch seemed like he was going to shit his pants!” Leia clutched her stomach and threw her head back, laughing up into the air.

“You’re almost as reckless as DK.” Kenma rolled his eyes, popping another chip into his mouth. Leia placed her right hand on his shoulder and leaned back against the car alongside him, both of them facing you. She forcefully placed her hand into his chip bag before Kenma pulled away, an annoyed expression forming on his face as Leia quickly popped the chip into her mouth.

“Get your own shit, Princess.” Kenma growled, crossing one foot over the other.

“Princess?” You smiled, crossing your arms and tapping your foot along the asphalt. “Is that your nickname here?”

“Yeah, Princess Leia, once the daughter of the Underground Tokyo King himself.” She placed her hands into the pocket of Kuroo’s bomber jacket, closing her eyes. “Tetsurou nicknamed me that.”

“That’s really cute,” You chuckled, turning your head towards Kenma. “How’d you get the nickname ‘Snake Eyes’, Kenma?”

“DK also gave me that nickname.” Kenma looked up into the street light underneath his car, rolling the empty bag of chips up into a tight fold, slipping it into one of the pockets of his red cargo pants. “I don’t usually race, I spectate. I’m usually the one behind the scenes and observing the race.”

“He was also the brains behind the operations DK, Cypher and Sly Fox would go on. The logistic mastermind, per say.” Leia closed her eyes for a while, leaning her head back against the GT86.

“I guess you can refer to it that way.” Kenma moved his left hand from his pocket in order to tuck the front strand of his dyed blond hair back against his ear, letting the other still dangle in front of his eyes, framing the edge of his cheek. He chuckled softly while staring at the ground before looking back up at you, his golden irises constricting into a tight oval—realizing to yourself his pupils really did look like snake eyes.

“If you’re usually the spectator, why’d you plan on racing tonight?” You nonchalantly asked as Kenma straightened his posture, his arms crossed over his chest while he flexed the dragon tattoo on his bicep.

“Leia was originally supposed to participate, but she asked me to take her place instead. Like I mentioned, I only race when I have to. She made it seem like it was urgent for me to replace her in the second race.” He tapped his right foot on the concrete, nodding his head along to the beat of the song playing in the distance—all on the speakers of the Nekoma Crew Pit. You recognized it as “rockstar” by Post Malone, with 21 Savage’s verse just finishing up.

Leia opened her eyes and shot you an expressionless look, wiggling her eyebrows up and down. You kept your mouth shut; not sure of whom she’s told already about her pregnancy. To your knowledge, only you and Oikawa were the only ones who knew, not even sure if Kuroo knew himself.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, a text message appearing across your lock screen. As you adjusted the brightness of the backlight, you noticed it was from Iwaizumi asking for you to come over and meet him at the Brawlers’ Pit. Quickly texting with one hand, you acknowledged his message and placed your phone back into your pocket.

“I gotta go, Hajime calls,” you exclaimed, looking up to scan the parking lot, searching the familiar white and teal colors. Leia and Kenma gave you a nod without saying a word, waving goodbye as you began to walk.

You took in a deep breath, letting out an exhausted sigh. Placing your hands into the pockets of Oikawa’s bomber jacket, you walked throughout the busy parking lot—the car meet packed with enthusiasts, car clubs and gang members. Music blasted throughout the air, a song sampled from the 80’s mixed with Memphis rap vocals and a heavy bass drop booming in your ears.

You passed through the Shiratorizawa Saints again—watching the man with spiky red hair talk to Ushijima. The man with grey hair and “Shadow” written across the back of his bomber jacket came up to the both of them, handing a wrench to the man who you assumed was “Red Devil”. He had his hands placed on his hips, a white bandage wrapped around his fingers as he accepted the tool.

Turning your head back into the direction of the Seijoh Brawlers, you raised your eyebrows the minute you saw Iwaizumi lean back against his car, scrolling away on his phone. You couldn’t help but notice the faint dragon tattoo on his right arm—the exact same one Oikawa had, except the head of the dragon was not on his neck. Never noticing it at first, you pinched your eyebrows together and sucked in your cheeks.

“Nice tattoo you got there,” you interrupted, walking up Iwaizumi with a smirk on your face. “Fresh ink?”

“Stop teasing. You already know it.” Iwaizumi chuckled, nudging your left shoulder as you both laughed with each other. You poked the ink on his bicep, gliding your finger down his arm as he flinched.

“Hey! Stop that!” Iwaizumi exclaimed, obviously irritated by the tip of your nail tickling his skin. “You know I’m ticklish.”

“Always have been, huh?” You shot him a reassuring smile, heavily missing the fun times you had with him back in the day.

When Iwaizumi was younger, he had a hard time at school—never able to focus clearly on his studies, reading books or solving arithmetic problems. Some may say he wasn’t intelligent; that was, until one day while visiting your house, he sneaked into the garage watching your father fix up his car. He peeked out the door, intently observing him sit on a stool as he placed a jack underneath the front side skirt.

It was like primitive Anthropocene humans discovering fire for the first time—a bright light igniting within his soul. At such a young age, Iwaizumi already knew what he wanted to be when he was older—someone who loved to fix and race cars, nonetheless a street racer. Your father noticed him at the door, a reassuring smile on his face while he called Iwaizumi over to come watch.

“Here, son. I’ll teach you something.” He gave Iwaizumi a small pail to sit on, plopping himself down as your father went through the steps to change a tire by hand. He let Iwaizumi try for himself, almost taking him his entire body weight to unscrew a lug nut from the lock. It was almost natural for him to know about cars, the information instantly sticking to his brain.

You remembered being jealous of the passion Iwaizumi had for cars as he assisted your father on his Mitsubishi Evo, his desire driving him to become a great mechanic later on in life. He had a bright future ahead of him, and being able to work alongside Oikawa and the rest of the Seijoh Brawlers doing something he’d always loved doing—it was basically a dream come true. Iwaizumi wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

“Ey,” Oikawa nonchalantly came up behind Iwaizumi’s WRX, scaring the both of you for a second with his sudden greeting. He gave you a smile, crossing his arms over his open white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

“Don’t do that, you scared us.” Iwaizumi punched Oikawa in the arm before closing his eyes and sighing to himself. “Did you tell her?”

“Tell me what?” You raised an eyebrow, fixing your attention on Oikawa.

Once again, he pulled out the e-cigarette from his pocket, placing it in between his lips and inhaling a large puff of vapor into his mouth. It never bothered you how much he smoked, but you always wondered how much nicotine he really consumed in a single day.

“Iwaizumi is participating in the second race.” As he spoke, wisps of vapor sliced through his teeth before he exhaled a full breath of smoke.

“Oh?” You raised both of your eyebrows while crossing your arms, pouting your lips. “You told me you weren’t gonna race tonight.”

“That’s what I thought too, but your shitty boyfriend here insisted I should.” Iwaizumi leaned back against his car door, placing his hands inside the pocket of his dark wash jeans. He wore the same teal shirt Oikawa was wearing, indicating they both were members of the Seijoh Brawlers to other car clubs and gangs at the meet.

“Don’t be so rude, Indy.” Oikawa closed his eyes, taking in a series of quick hits off his e-cigarette.

“Your nickname, I presume?” You nudged his side with your elbow twice before Iwaizumi nodded.

“Homage to no other than my uncle.” Iwaizumi smiled softly at you, your face reminding him of the man that helped him become the person he was today. Besides helping out your dad with his car, you remembered he always watched the American Indy 500 races while on International cable. He recalled it being one of his favorite pastimes spent with your father.

“Well, I wish you good luck, Hajime. But I assume you won’t be needing too much of it since we all know you’re gonna win.” You winked at him, giving him an encouraging and supportive smile.

“Do you think your dad would like me?” Oikawa chimed in, smirking confidently to himself. Both you and Iwaizumi looked at each other, cocking up an eyebrow on both of your faces before chuckling and simultaneously saying the exact same thing.

“No.”

You both laughed at Oikawa getting offended, scoffing to himself as he questioned exactly why your father wouldn’t like him. For the rest of the time being, all three of you bonded well and laughed at jokes before the start of the second race. Unbeknownst to all you, it ended up being the last time the three of you had happily conversed without any complications.

You all were interrupted by someone announcing on the speakers that the racers should line up and those who wanted to spectate should go up to the platform soon. Iwaizumi gave you a quick hug, rubbing the top of your back before hopping into his car and taking off to the start of the race.

Sooner or later, you, Oikawa, Kuroo, Kita, and Leia jogged up the stairs that connected the parking lot to the observer deck, leaning against the railing up on the spectator platform. It was busy on the deck—almost everyone from the meet including family and friends, car enthusiasts, and the members of the street racing gangs all crowded around just to get a view of the racers.

Leia got her own snacks, lightly munching away at the leftover onigiri and Kenma’s favorite chips. Kuroo had his elbows on the railing and looked down at Kenma’s GT86 rumbling against the starting line, giving the blond haired man a smirk and a Nekoma salute. Kita quietly smoked another cigarette in between his fingers, the filter resting on his bottom lip as he let out an exhale of smoke.

With your left hand placed on the railing, Oikawa rested his right hand on top, curling his fingers down to intertwine with yours. He gave you a reassuring smile, the cool wind bristling through his locks as the tail end of his white button up shirt flowed back. Leaning in, he quickly kissed your cheek, whispering “my love” into your ear before fixing his eyes back at the starting line.

Down below was the view of the racers, six cars all lined up at the start of the base. From descending order, first in line was Yuu Nishinoya, a.k.a. Rolling Thunder of the Karasuno Killers. He drove a modified 2000 blood orange Subaru Impreza, the night sky almost making it look red in color. His nickname derived from the loud popping noises erupting whenever he revved his engine, the fuel burning out of his exhaust sounding like thunder every time.

Second in line was Iwaizumi himself in his 2006 white Subaru WRX. You could see him through his slightly tinted windshield, grasping the top of his wheel tightly with his right hand as he revved his engine, the loud revolutions of the motors churning underneath the hood of his car. A scowl was placed firmly across his face; you weren’t sure if it was from his determination to win the race, or his anger at Oikawa for making him participate.

Atsumu and Osamu Miya, a.k.a. Thrasher and Ghost of the Inarizaki Bois were directly in the middle, each one having the same sleek black 2002 Nissan Skyline GT-R 34—no one ever knowing who was who in which car. The only difference was a small sticker labeled “Cobb Tuning” laid across the side skirt of Atsumu’s car—a souvenir from a famous American Tune shop that specializes in GT-R Skylines.

Kenma stood second to last on the line descending down, his red 2015 Toyota GT86, the newest—and dare say best looking—car out of all the racers. A street light shined underneath Kenma’s car, revealing him wearing black shades despite the moon shining up in the night. You wondered if it was a Nekoma Crew thing; wearing black sunglasses in the dark. You thought it seemed contradictory, but nonetheless they always looked effortless and unbothered while wearing them.

Last but not least was Satori Tendou, a.k.a. the Red Devil of the infamous Shiratorizawa Saints. His 1999 red Nissan 240SX rumbled along with the wheels, the body of his car lowered close to the ground. Tendou was well-known for being the Shiratorizawa Saints’ second best racer, right after Ushijima himself.

He was also comparable to Iwaizumi; an excellent mechanic and a very skilled racer. Red Devil derived from his spiky red hair and the monstrous power his engine held—but it wasn’t until Ushijima went missing awhile back where people started to develop a new meaning to his nickname, the Red Devil who made the Saint disappear.

All of the racers revved their engines, the sound booming throughout the air as the people of the spectator platform from above and down below on the sidewalk cheered. The flagger was a woman with black hair and glasses in an orange tube top and black booty shorts, her long thigh-high boots clicking against the concrete as she walked up to the middle of the street.

Nishinoya whistled out of his window, waving his hand out to the woman. She ignored his catcall and swung the orange flag in the air, catching the attention of all the racers. It sounded like their engines roared louder than before, the noise echoing throughout the air as it pierced through your eardrums. As the woman started counting down, the crowd behind you cheered wildly, screaming the nicknames of the racers they bet would win.

Five. Tendou made sure to turn down the music in his car, patiently waiting to hear the rest of the countdown.

Four. Nishinoya’s exhaust popped furiously into the air, fuel burning out as the noise mimicked a thunderstorm.

Three. Kenma adjusted his mirror and placed his hand back on the wheel, making sure everything was aligned in sight.

Two. The Miya brothers looked at each other through their tinted windows, giving a sly smirk before focusing back on the road.

One. Iwaizumi lightly pushed down on the accelerator and revved his engine, staring straight down the long street stretching a distance away.

Just as the woman motioned “GO!”, the screech of the racers’ wheels penetrated through the air, the noise almost sounding painful to bear up close. White smoke filled the area, each of the cars disappearing into the night until none of them remained at the starting line. The woman’s hair flew back as she covered her ears, looking over her shoulder at each of the cars already far down the road.

From the spectator view, you could see every part of the track and know exactly where the racers were. The wharf wasn’t too small nor too big, but nonetheless remained one of the most popular spots for street racing. It was far from downtown Tokyo and you needed to pay a toll bridge to enter, so law enforcement would have a hard time trying to get through in the first place.

Your heart pounded through your chest, the adrenaline pumping throughout your body despite only being a spectator on the observer’s deck. Car enthusiasts and other gang members cheered behind you, their screams and hollers echoing throughout the night as you all watched the racers drift the first tight round corner.

Kenma led first, his drifting skills almost comparable to Kuroo and Oikawa. Although he wasn’t the fastest racer, Kenma was the most skilled out of all of them. This helped him to an advantage; knowing exactly when and where to drift his car on the tight turn so he wouldn’t leave even the smallest scratch on his car. The rear of his GT86 swerved back to the left as he yanked his wheel to the right, not even a skid mark left on the asphalt.

Followed by Kenma was Iwaizumi, just barely catching up to him from behind. There was little distance between the front bumper of his car to Kenma’s rear, his headlights flashing directly on his license plate. Kenma cursed to himself, pressing down on the clutch before shifting the car into a higher gear, accelerating his speed. He looked into the rearview mirror; the determined expression on Iwaizumi’s face glaring back at him, concentrated on taking the lead.

From the other side, Nishinoya’s Impreza zoomed past both of them, sparks flying out of his exhaust as he drifted to the left, his steering wheel oscillating back and forth. He left multiple tire marks on the road, scraping the rear bumper of his car against the barrier of the street. Reckless as he was, Nishinoya used up all of his nitrous oxide, the turbo power maxing out from the engine.

Although he led first for a brief second, Kenma and Iwaizumi passed him directly after, avoiding his bashful swings left and right. Nishinoya slammed his hand on the top of his steering wheel, cursing to himself as both the Miya twins in their Skylines passed him as well—dropping him down to fourth place. It shows that a lot can happen and change in a matter of time; Nishinoya placing first and then dropping back down to fourth all within seconds.

Tendou couldn’t believe he was in last place despite the improvement changes he made to his car. Unlike the rest of the racers, his car was almost a half a ton heavier. This impeded his abilities to place first with all the extra weight, dragging him down to last. Although he was on the tail end of Nishinoya, it didn’t matter if you won by an inch or a mile—winning was winning, and last place meant last place.

In a matter of seconds, Iwaizumi surpassed Kenma while they both drifted to the right. The rear ends of their vehicles swerved all the way out of line with the street, only Iwaizumi’s tires skidding across the asphalt. The side of Kenma’s car was dangerously close to Iwaizumi’s driver side, for which he had to slow down a bit to refrain from scratching his precious GT86. Racing meant nothing if his car was scratched in any sort of manner.

Kenma’s hesitation left him vulnerable for Iwaizumi to lead in first, another curse under his breath as he slapped his left hand on the wheel. Speeding down through a tunnel with the underground lights zooming through, Kenma pushed the bridge of his sunglasses up his nose. Wind flowed through his hair, little strands of his dyed blond locks coming undone from his small bun tied in the back of his head.

From the observer’s deck, a wave of excitement erupted from the crowd with you cupping your hands against the side of your mouth, cheering for Iwaizumi taking the lead. A whoop erupted from the bottom of Oikawa’s throat, clapping his hands together as he leaned over the railing. A smile formed on his lips, showing how proud he was of him. You let out another cheer as the crowd roared again, all the racers drifting another tight corner to the left.

“Go Haji!” You screamed out, even though you knew he couldn’t hear you. Whistles and cheers from the rest of the Seijoh Brawlers dispersed throughout the crowd as you saw Kuroo grip the handle of the railing, a tensed expression on his face.

“Come on, Snake Eyes! Stop worrying about your fucking car, damn it!” Kuroo boomed as he watched Kenma trail behind Iwaizumi, knowing exactly why he always refrained from racing.

Kenma has a copious amount of exotic cars imported from the United States and Europe—the Audi R8, the McLaren 720s and the Porsche 911—all sleek and red in color, sitting pretty in the Nekoma Shop garage never to be raced against even though it would smoke out any competitor. Kuroo always thought it was ridiculous of him to never even drive it out onto the street, afraid to even get a little scratch on his precious and expensive toys.

From the corner of his eyes, Kenma looked up into the rearview mirror to see both of the Miya brothers speeding up behind him, neck in neck with each other. His pupils constricted, knowing what was to come because of their reputation. He stomped down on the clutch with his left foot and quickly pressed the break with the tip of his right toe before blipping the throttle, quickly downshifting to match his revolutions.

As Kenma slowed down the RPM of his engine, Atsumu and Osamu zoomed past him with ease, trailing behind both of their Nissan Skylines. He couldn’t tell who was in which car as their windows were tinted to the darkest setting legally possible. Kenma heard their engines speed up as they crept up behind Iwaizumi, both of them now in second place. He pressed down on his accelerator again, intently watching behind the twins.

Iwaizumi’s confidence exuded off his skin, adrenaline pumping throughout his body. He saw the black Skylines tailgate behind, forcing him to press down harder onto the accelerator. A growl erupted from the back of his throat as he saw one of the Skylines disappear out of the rearview mirror. Immediately looking over both of his shoulders, he noticed no one was there, only one of the Miya twins flashing their bright headlights directly behind.

Atsumu revved his engine loudly, spurs of the cyclic gears grinding against one another, taunting Iwaizumi. He swerved to the right, immediately catching up side by side. Nervously looking over his shoulder, Iwaizumi tried to focus his attention onto the road while also being cautious of Atsumu as a tight hairpin turn approached on the road ahead.

Instantly, Iwaizumi yanked the wheel to the left, kicked the clutch, and pulled the emergency brake, holding onto it tightly as he balanced his right foot on the throttle. Atsumu did the same; drifting side by side with only a paper thin difference in length between their car doors, just barely scratching the paint. They both immediately yanked their wheels back to the right, the rear ends of their vehicles swerving to the side as their tires skidded the asphalt.

The crowd behind you watched intently, their focus solely between Atsumu and Iwaizumi. Your eyes trailed on the both of them as they approached another hairpin turn—the one right underneath the observer’s deck attached to the parking lot. While leaning over the railing, the wind rushed through your clothes, feeling the crisp night air tickle on your skin. You crossed your arms over each other before Oikawa linked his pinky finger with yours, scooching closer to your body as the crowd roared again.

Iwaizumi’s heart raced; sweat dripping down his forehead as the wind from his open windows sucked into his vehicle. Atsumu was right there next to him, revving his engine loudly to catch him off guard. He couldn’t tell if it was Atsumu or Osamu in the car, but he quickly found out once the black Skyline swerved to the right before yanking the steering wheel back to the left, ultimately thrashing into the driver’s side of Iwazumi’s WRX.

He felt the jolt of impact, losing the grip on his wheel as every organ in his body shifted to the left. In the corner of his eye, he saw Osamu’s car sneak up on the other side of him—Iwaizumi now realizing he’s being targeted by the Twins’ infamous Quick Attack. He tried his best to rev match back down to fourth gear, balancing his right foot between the brake and throttle—yet, it was too late.

Atsumu rolled down his window, a smirk forming on his pierced lip as he gripped the handle on his steering wheel and yanked it to the left again. The passenger side of his car collided with Iwaizumi’s WRX, ultimately thrashing straight into him once again. The force colliding with the side of his car caused him to spin out of control, losing any grip on the wheel. He tried his best to brake, but the speed on his dashboard already passed over 120km/h.

The last thing Iwaizumi saw before his car flipped over onto the road was a maniacal laughter erupting from Atsumu’s mouth as both the Miya twins zoomed past his car, now taking first place.

Your heart dropped down to the pit of your stomach the moment Iwaizumi’s car flipped over. The air felt dense, making it hard to breath as your eyes diligently watched the wheels fly out, the body of his car tumbling against the asphalt as he crashed into the barrier of the street. Your pupils constricted, not a muscle in your body moving as a painful chill ran down your spine, almost making you feel sick to your stomach. No thoughts in your mind processed through as you were left in complete shock, peering down at the WRX utterly wrecked with glass shattered all over the road.

The crowd behind you screamed as his car collided with the barrier, the shrill noise of their panic piercing through your ears while the boom of the crash erupted from down below. Time slowed down for you, but it wasn’t the same way you would have expected it to.

It felt like everyone around you disappeared, your surroundings completely dissipating into an abstract empty bright white room, no quantum definitive measurement of how long it stretched. You tried your best to move a muscle as your eyes looked down at your hands, waiting for it to start trembling.

Kita stopped breathing for a second, holding in the smoke within his lungs as he dropped the cigarette from his fingers onto the ground below. Only shock ran through his body as he reflected on the situation; Kita never once witnessed Atsumu cause a crash before. Usually, their Quick Attack only ever damaged the side of their targets’ cars—never intending to flip them completely over and collide with the road barriers. His jaw hung low as a trail of smoke escaped his mouth, his hand still in the same position as when had a cigarette in between his fingers.

Kenma’s eyes widened, watching the whole thing unveil. Stepping on the accelerator, he immediately zoomed past Iwazumi’s wrecked car, instantly drifting in a half moon circle as smoke erupted from his exhaust. His vehicle swiftly parked parallel to the middle barrier of the road, the front end of his GT86 perpendicular to the crash site. He gasped abruptly, seeing the accident and Iwaizumi’s body hanging upside down in his car up close felt all too real for him.

“INDIGO!” Kenma screamed, quickly shifting his car in first gear before pulling up the e-brake. He didn’t even take his keys out of the engine before swinging his door open and rushing straight to Iwaizumi, discarding his black sunglasses over his shoulder.

Blood quickly rushed through his veins as he looked underneath the car, Iwaizumi’s unconscious body upside down in his seat with his hands hanging below his head. All the windows were shattered over the concrete, glass shards displaced in a scattered and random pattern. Kenma didn’t care if he injured himself while crawling down onto his knees, pulling Iwaizumi out from under the driver’s seat. A pain winced through his forearm as a large metal scrap protruded out from the side of the window, piercing through his skin as he dragged out his body.

“Fuck! Indigo, hang in there!” Kenma pleaded, his hands placed underneath Iwaizumi’s armpits. Blood was scattered all over his face and clothes, soot and dirt plastered all on the right side of his cheeks. He dropped down onto his knees as he cradled Iwaizumi’s head onto his lap, leaning his ear down to his busted lip. Kenma couldn’t tell if he was breathing.

He placed two fingers to the right side of his jugular vein, feeling Iwaizumi’s carotid artery pulse against the tips of his fingers. Taking in a huge breath of air, tears formed in the corner of his eyes. He shot his head back up, peering straight into the observer’s deck. Locking eyes with Kuroo, Kenma’s pupils constricted—a panicked and anguished expression formed on his face as he let out the loudest scream possible.

“CALL AN AMBULANCE, FUCKING DAMN IT!”

The crowd behind you screamed, running in all sorts of directions—back to their cars to avoid law enforcement, scrambling to find their friends and family or quickly dialing the 119 emergency number. Kuroo quickly took out his phone, his fingers stumbling to press down on the pads. Kita exhaled the smoke from his lungs, coughing profusely as tears formed from the corner of his eyes. Leia and Oikawa held you close on either side, checking to see if you were okay.

It felt like your soul sunk down to the ground as your eyes widened, your body completely left in shock, unable to process any information. Your hands trembled on the railing; your lungs having a hard time breathing in air. When Leia grabbed your right hand, you slowly turned your head to her—your eyes watering profusely down your cheeks, your lips quivering with a babbled noise.

“NO! HAJIME!” You screamed, gripping your hands on the cold metal bar before leaning all of your body over the observer’s deck, your feet placed on the base of the railing. You gritted your teeth, letting out another scream of shock while looking down at Kenma stabilizing Iwaizumi’s head on his lap. Tears dripped down your eyes, scattering onto the road down below.

Oikawa grabbed your waist and wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you back onto the observer’s deck before you could hurt yourself. You felt his heartbeat pump loudly against his chest, adrenaline also running throughout his veins. It felt hard for Oikawa to breathe as shock infiltrated his body, his mind ruminating to make quick decisions.

Oikawa didn’t know what to feel at the moment; not knowing if he should have felt dismayed over the crash or infuriated over Kita’s negligence over the Miya Brothers—nonetheless, what topped both of those emotions was the overwhelming feeling of remorse.

Seeing the anguished expression on your face, feeling your body trembling against his, and hearing the wails of agony erupt at the bottom of your lungs—it felt like every bone inside him collapsed, completely crushing every aspect of his mind and soul.

“LET ME GO! HAJIME!” You flung your legs in the air, desperately prying open Oikawa’s hands off your waist.

“NO! Stop it!” Oikawa tightened his grip around your body, trying his best to prevent you from doing anything rash and impulsive.

You began to sob uncontrollably, your tears staining the fabric of your clothes. The whites of your eyes became red, your vision blurred with the street lights and neon signs of the shops surrounding nearby. A pain formed in the back of your head, the pressure of your sinus spreading all throughout the front portion of your face. Every muscle in your body felt weak, yet the rush of adrenaline kept you awake.

The minute Oikawa let go of your waist, the heels of your boots touched the ground—your legs immediately moving, your body furiously running down the steps of the observer deck. Oikawa, Leia, Kuroo, nor Kita couldn’t even chase after you as your silhouette quickly disappeared, rushing past the crowd to Iwaizumi’s aide. Your first priority was being by his side, desperately wanting to know if he was still alive. He has to make it, you thought.

‘Don’t fucking die on me. Not right now.’

Tendou and Nishinoya had already blocked the road on both ends with their cars, making space for the accident. Kenma remained on the ground, clutching Iwaizumi’s unconscious body with his hands defiled with blood, dirt, and grime. He didn’t even know him that well, nor even spoke a word to his face before—yet, every voice in his mind was telling him to help. He could have taken off into the night just like the Miya brothers, all of the Inarizaki Bois except for Kita disappearing from the scene in fear of law enforcement.

Kenma screamed the moment he saw you run up beside him, tears dripping from his eyes. He was relieved to see you, but also guilty he couldn’t help much further. Watching the tears stream down your face as you mumbled out incoherent words, he couldn’t even imagine how much pain you were feeling. It wasn’t like him to be sympathetic, much less empathetic—but experiencing it up close with the bloodied body of a fellow racer on his lap, Kenma knew that could have easily been himself instead.

��Is he still breathing?!” You hovered your hand over Iwaizumi’s mouth, trying to feel the soft and shallow exhales escaping from his lips.

While pressing your hand over his carotid artery, you felt slow but consistent pumps of blood patting against the bottom of your fingertips. The tense and tight feeling in your chest released, knowing Iwaizumi was still alive. Yet, you knew the time for him was ticking, the critical condition of his body fighting between a gamble of life and death.

“We need to get him to a fucking hospital, now!” You screamed through your teeth, looking down at his body. The teal Seijoh Brawlers t-shirt he was wearing was now drenched in blood—a large red stain on the right side of his torso. Bruises covered all over his arms, neck and face; his eyes shut from the swelling of his busted eyelid. He was missing a shoe, the bottom half of his jeans ripped to the seams.

In the distance, the sound of two engines roaring broke through the crowd’s barrier, people rushing to the side of the street as Oikawa’s Mazda RX-7 and Kuroo’s Nissan 350Z sliced through the air. The tires of the familiar white car skidded across the road, spinning in a perfect circle before stopping right in front of you. Oikawa rolled down the windows, a petrified look on his face as his eyes fixated on Iwaizumi’s helpless body on your lap.

“Get in, now! We don’t have much time!” Oikawa growled through his teeth, revving the engine twice.

You turned your head to Kenma, your tears flying off your face and hitting the asphalt. He stared back at you, his own tears dried up against his cheeks filled with soot. “Help me carry him into the car!”

Kenma wasted no time and grabbed the base of his ankles, touching the lacerations all over his calves with his dirtied hands. Iwaizumi’s body caved in like a folded piece of paper as you both struggled to lift up his body, only barely making it to the passenger side of the RX-7. Oikawa already had the door swung open, reclining the passenger seat all the way down. A grunt escaped your lips as you heaved yourself into the car first, your body squeezed up against the back of Oikawa’s seat.

Once Kenma dropped Iwaizumi’s body onto the passenger seat, the back of his head collapsed onto the headrest—blood still dripping down from his forehead with his eyes swollen and his lip busted open. Another tear dropped out from your eyes; seeing him in this state made you sick to your stomach. Kenma tucked in Iwaizumi’s legs, shutting the door.

Oikawa pressed down on the accelerator, the tires underneath squealing against the asphalt. Kuroo and Leia followed closely behind in the 350Z, both of their cars speeding down the street as the sound of their engines roaring echoed into the night. A gust of wind flew past Kenma, the strands of his long hair unraveling from his bun as it grazed against his cheeks. He placed the back of his left hand on his forehead, releasing a shaky exhale from his lips.

More tears dripped from his eyes, questioning to himself why he was crying. He looked down at his bloodied and stained hands, grime and soot scattered all over his forearms. Grazing his hands on the front of his cargo pants, he dropped down onto his knees. Kenma couldn’t process what had happened in the last few minutes; cursing to the universe why time changed so fast. He looked up at the night sky, praying to the God he didn’t believe in that Iwaizumi would be okay.

Oikawa pressed down on the clutch while upshifting gears, the sound of his engine growing louder and louder in your ears as he sped down the street. Wind rushed through your face, feeling the sharp and cold gust of air along the surface of your skin. Looking down, you caressed Iwaizumi’s face, some of your tears dripping onto his cheeks. Your body rocked back and forth from the turbulence of the car, trying your best to keep yourself steady squeezed behind Oikawa’s seat.

Only the roar of the engine and your silent sobs could be heard in the car; not a single word exchanged between the both of you. Oikawa tried his best to distract himself as he sped down the highway, entering the bridge that connected out of the wharf. He tightened his grip on the wheel, trying his best to not think about Iwaizumi’s unconscious body in the passenger seat of his car.

You looked up into the rearview mirror and saw a scowl plastered across Oikawa’s face, watching intently on the road ahead. Looking straight out the windshield, you saw the Tokyo skyline in the distance—yellow, red, and blue lights flickering all over the place. Holding onto Iwaizumi’s right palm, you placed your other hand on top of his, warming up his bruised and battered fingers.

A whimper escaped your lips as more tears fell from your eyes, reaching down to the corners of your mouth. You tasted a bitterness on your tongue, the chemical formula of stress diluted into your tears stinging and burning onto your cheeks. Your face became itchy, a desire to scratch all over your body overwhelmed your mind.

Panic. Aguish. Remorse.

Those were the three emotions you could only feel.

Panic. Anguish. Remorse.

Those were the three emotions Oikawa wished to feel.

He kept repeating those words in his head over and over again, trying his best to feel them one at a time—yet, nothing came to mind. In truth, Oikawa couldn’t feel anything. Just like everything traumatic he had experienced before, his brain instinctually buried all of his emotions down into the depths of his subconscious—his own body’s way protecting himself from the grief and sorrow that was to be expected later.

Oikawa desperately wanted to feel something, anything. No emotion or thought ran through his mind; only the instinctual movements of his body driving the car keeping him sane. He felt a tightness in his chest, the air around him feeling dense. Again, he ran through the three emotions he wanted to experience in order to feel normal.

Panic. Anguish. Remorse.

Pain.

Oh how he wished to feel pain.

Kuroo followed closely behind, flashing his high-beams at Oikawa to signal he was right there next to him. They both exited off the highway, entering through the Kohoku Ward, traveling in the direction of the Yokohama Rosai General Hospital. Although it was far out of reach, it was the only hospital open at the time—one that could take in Iwaizumi’s critical condition and treat him immediately regardless of the hour.

Oikawa stepped on the gas, the engine booming once again throughout the night. You pressed the back of Iwaizumi’s hands on your forehead, silently weeping to yourself. Muttering small murmurs of hope through your lips kept you alert, despite the lack of energy you felt throughout your body. Your fingers trembled holding up his right hand, a painful shiver running down your spine.

Nothing but pain could be felt in your heart. Your tears were running dry, constantly wiping your face with the back of Oikawa’s bomber jacket sleeve. His vitals were dropping every second of the way to the hospital, Oikawa increasing his speed as quickly as he could.

While staring down at Iwaizumi, you couldn’t help but think back to all the times when you two were younger—a bright smile on his face while he called your name, riding on the back of his bike while he pretended it was a car and you were his passenger. Fast forward to more than a decade later, you remembered seven months ago when you saw him again for the first time at the street race—his figure swallowing you in a giant hug with Oikawa standing right beside him.

As more memories flooded your mind, you sobbed profusely thinking back to a couple of hours ago when you had just conversed with him about the future and his plans to finish university. Iwaizumi dreamed of going back to California to open his own mechanic shop, naming it after your father—the man that helped him discover the one thing he loved doing most. A sharp pain formed in your chest as you clutched his right hand with both of yours, absolutely crushed by the thought of knowing these would be the last moments you spend with him if the worst happens.

Oikawa approached the front of the hospital, the squeal of his tires catching the attention of a few patients and staff members outside. The 350Z rolled up behind him, Leia rushing out of the vehicle and into the building screaming for help. Kuroo ran up to the passenger side door and swung it open, placing his right hand underneath Iwaizumi’s shoulder blades while his left scooped under his knees.

Effortlessly lifting his heavy body up from the seat, Kuroo exhaled a large breath before carrying Iwaizumi over to the building in front of him. You climbed through the passenger seat, clutching onto the headrest as you placed one foot out first before completely hopping out. Oikawa exited the car and jogged right behind Kuroo, furiously panting out large breaths of air as they both dashed through the entrance of the hospital.

“WE NEED A DOCTOR, NOW!” Kuroo kicked open the doors, all his energy dropping by the second.

Leia came out through the corner with a rush of trauma and emergency staff members wheeling in a stretcher trolley, oxygen ventilators and cardiac monitors—all helping Kuroo place down Iwaizumi’s body onto the bed before pushing him away in the opposite direction.

They hooked him up onto the machines, cutting his Seijoh Brawlers shirt down the middle to expose the wounds all over his chest. Blood dripped onto the sheets of the stretcher, the wheels squeaking against the floor as they rolled him away. Just before they turned back into a corner, one of the nurses exclaimed, “His left lung has collapsed, he’s hypoxic and hypotensive.”

Kuroo ran a hand through his hair, pushing back his bangs as he let out the heaviest exhale—still feeling that burdening weight on his shoulders. He turned around and faced Oikawa; a desolate and confused look across his face. Looking down at his shoes, Kuroo inhaled another breath, sweat dripping down his forehead. He wished he could have done more to help—he couldn’t bring himself to call the ambulance earlier.

Back on the observer platform, Kuroo just stood there staring at his phone’s keypad—his eyes shifting towards the one and nine buttons, but not having the strength to push them down. Just like everyone else, only shock ran through his body—his hands trembling while his breath hitched. Everything was rushing so fast, he didn’t even have time to stop and comprehend the situation. Kuroo felt guilty that he didn’t call the ambulance immediately, debating to himself if he cost everyone the valuable time.

Leia came rushing to your side, holding you in her arms as you placed both of your hands to your face, continually sobbing into your palms. She stroked the back of your head while your knees buckled inwards, your whole body shaking from panic and sorrow.

“Hey, hey. He’s going to be alright, they’re treating him right now.” Leia cooed, trying her best to console you. She didn’t know how to comfort others, never learning compassion or empathy from her parents—yet she knew when the situation called for it, especially when her best friend needed a shoulder to cry on.

Oikawa took in a sharp and painful inhale through his mouth, feeling his lungs cave in. His heart pounded through his chest, adrenaline and shock igniting all throughout his body. Looking around the hospital emergency room triggered a flashback to Osaka—the ambulance sirens blaring in his ears, dead bodies surrounding him in every direction, the taste of bitter blood on his lips.

His pupils constricted as he looked at you on your knees, bawling your eyes out over the floor while Leia held you close. All of the emotions he wanted to experience earlier came flooding in—instantly regretting his desire to feel them all, one at a time. They rushed in like the blood flowing through his veins, infiltrating every crevice of his mind while taking over his consciousness.

His vision blurred and swayed left and right—it almost felt like he was looking through a black and white kaleidoscope. Oikawa grabbed the nearest doctor by his shirt, shoving his face close to theirs. He growled through his teeth, his eyes filled with panic. “Is he going to be okay?!”

The doctor beneath his grip shook in fear, his skinny legs quivering against each other. He dropped the clipboard from his hands, trying his best to not look at Oikawa in the eyes as he turned his head away. A whimper escaped from his lips, begging for him to let go. “I don’t know! I’m just an intern!”

Oikawa looked down at the man’s white coat, the name of the anxious doctor in front of him plastered on the left side of his chest—Ittetsu Takeda.

He immediately let go, Takeda stumbling onto the floor as he crawled away. As he stared down at his hands, he watched his fingers tremble in fear; sweat and grime covered all over the surface of his palms. Looking over his shoulder, he felt the atmosphere of the room grow dark. The patients in the waiting room all stared at Oikawa in fear—a terrorized look on their faces as they cowered in the corners, clutching the handles of their chairs.

‘People are afraid when I walk into a room because they know who I am and what I’ve done.’

Oikawa lifted his right arm up and looked at the tail end of his dragon tattoo, twisting his wrist back and forth. He took in a shallow breath, panic running through his mind. He was crumbling; coming to the realization of the truth—Iwaizumi might die, and it would be all his fault.

Oikawa thought that should have been him; he should have been the one to race instead. Guilt ran through his mind, internally torturing himself on what could have happened if he wasn’t acting out on his own selfishness. Iwaizumi was fighting for his life on the hospital bed, and Oikawa knew it was all because of him.

A boom pierced through the building from the outside, a familiar black Nissan Silvia rolling up to the side of the hospital. You looked out the window behind you, Kita’s red tail lights flashing in the distance. Kuroo whipped his head to the side, sweat running down his forehead. Leia placed her hands on your waist, helping to lift your crouched body up from the floor.

A chill ran down Oikawa’s spine, a contrasting feeling to what rage was building up inside of him. How dare Kita show up to the hospital, knowing it was his own kin that caused the accident in the first place? An infuriated expression formed on Oikawa’s face, his teeth gritting against each other as a deep guttural sound erupted from the bottom of his throat.

He rolled up his sleeves, marching out the glass doors of the hospital entrance. Kuroo dashed through the doors as well, trying his best to reach out to Oikawa before he acted out on his impulses again. Leia followed Kuroo as you both chased after all of them, tears still falling from your eyelashes.

The minute Kita shut his door, he turned around to Oikawa furiously sprinting up to him—the rage and violence in his eyes speaking louder than words itself.

“Cypher, I’m sorry—”

Oikawa quickly punched the side of Kita’s face, landing a hard blow to his left jaw. Kita stumbled back against his car, scrambling to find the car door handle before Oikawa hit him again with the edge of his knuckles, imprinting a mark on his cheek. Dropping down to the ground, Kita felt the back of his head collide with the hard surface of the sidewalk—the bottom of his palms scraping against concrete.

Oikawa straddled his body, repeatedly punching him in the face as Kita spat blood onto the floor. He couldn’t control himself knowing what Kita had allowed the Miya brothers to do to Iwaizumi. He was the leader of the Inarizaki Bois—ultimately responsible for whatever his gang did, including paying the price for the repercussions of the accident.

“Why did you let those Miya fuckers get away with it! WHY?!” Oikawa screamed down at him, the back of his hand slapping across Kita’s bruised and bloodied face.

“CYPHER, STOP!” Kuroo ran up behind him, grabbing onto Oikawa’s waist as he tried to pull him off Kita. “Sly Fox had nothing to do with this!”

Kuroo could sense him slipping back into his old ways—the same confused, angry, and violent side of Tooru Oikawa taking over his actions again. It was exactly like when he first met him back at the Tokyo Freight Terminal over three years ago, Oikawa’s gun pointed directly between Kuroo’s eyes. He remembered he had his hands up in the air, begging for him not to shoot as he dropped onto his knees.

That day, Kuroo was sent by Mr. Sakanoshita to pick up a large shipment of pure uncut South American cocaine, coming straight from the United States, distributed nationally through Japan by the Kitagawa clan. He was instructed to pay the transporter three billion yen, all stuffed well into a suitcase resting in the passenger seat of his car. When he arrived, all he saw was a man with short brown hair and the same dragon tattoo as his imprinted on his neck—his slightly tanned skin glowing under the sunset, a prominent scowl on his face.

At the time, he didn’t know it was Oikawa.

Kuroo handed over the suitcase, gulping down a hard swallow as he watched him open up the locks. A calm yet enraged expression formed on Oikawa’s face as he pulled out a gun from underneath his pants, cocking back the slider before pointing it straight at Kuroo’s face. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“What do you mean?! I was instructed to only give you three billion!” Kuroo’s hands trembled as he raised his arms high, showing he genuinely didn’t know what he was talking about.

“Where’s my other two billion?”

“I don’t—”

Without letting Kuroo finish his sentence, Oikawa shot him in the shoulder, a piercing affliction to his axillary nerve. He remembered gripping his right shoulder in pain, a loud cry erupting from the back of his throat for him to not shoot any more than he needed to. Oikawa loomed over his aching body on the floor, an expression on his face Kuroo would never forget.

At the time, neither of them knew it, but Mr. Sakanoshita had purposefully swindled both of them short of two billion yen—a payback to Oikawa’s boss in the Kitagawa clan. He wanted Oikawa to kill Kuroo that day, using them both as pawns in his own fucked-up game of chess. Kuroo realized it after Oikawa had shot him, a bullet scar forever remaining on the right side of his arm in memory of that day.

A cold and painful shiver ran down Kuroo’s spine as he looked back at Oikawa—the exact same violent and aggressive expression on his face filled with rage and animosity as when he first met him. That face merged in with the present Oikawa, mercilessly beating up Kita below as he swung both of his arms down into the ground.

Both you and Leia stayed far back, your hands placed over your mouths as the three men rumbled with each other. You didn’t know why you couldn’t stop sobbing—for the past half-hour only bitter tears shed from your eyes, dehydrating your body out until there was none left to cry with. Your wet hands felt cold, the sleeves of Oikawa’s bomber jacket defiled with the stains of your tears.

You didn’t notice when several police cars rushed to the front entrance of the hospital, men dressed in law enforcement gear and bullet proof vests hopping out from the flashing vehicles. Leia gasped, catching your attention when you saw red lights shine through the slits of your fingers. The cops pulled Oikawa and Kuroo off Kita’s beaten body, restraining both of their arms behind their backs.

“Let go of me, I didn’t do anything!” Kuroo screamed, thrashing his body from left and right as they handcuffed his wrists together.

They pinned Oikawa to the ground, his right cheek pressed up against the rough concrete of the sidewalk as they kept both of his hands behind his back. The policemen tightly handcuffed his wrists, the cold metal slicing through the surface of his skin. With one eye peeking open, he felt nothing but pain all throughout his body when he saw a shocked and desolate expression on your face, both of your hands covering over your mouth.

You wanted to scream his name and beg for them to stop—but Leia held you back, shaking her head as she knew it would only make things worse than it already was. The policemen held back Kuroo, shoving his body up the side of a police car as trauma and emergency staff members surrounded Kita. They lifted his body up into a gurney, placing a manual ventilator around his mouth as they rushed him into the hospital entrance.

Out of a black car, an old man dressed in a dark navy suit stepped onto the hospital sidewalk with both of his hands placed inside the pockets of his trousers. His white hair slicked back as he furrowed his thick eyebrows, taking out his law enforcement badge as he flashed it towards the both of them—Lead Detective, Tanji Washijou.

“Tetsurou Kuroo and Tooru Oikawa,” Detective Washijou gave a distasteful scowl, shoving his ID badge back into the pocket of his blazer.

“You’re both arrested for the murder of Nohebi Clansmen leader, Suguru Daishou.”

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thesakuragarnet · 1 year ago

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The League Of Villains Go To Disney: An unfinished crackfic mini series for just good vibes

Summary: After several failed attempts to infiltrate UA, the League decides on a mandated vacation for "bonding" using their newly acquired assets from the Paranormal Liberation Front.

Disclaimer: This fic is unfinished, BUT, I may pick it back up eventually. Still have some drafts muddling about.

THIS FIC IS 18+ FOR SOME SLIGHTLY SENSUAL THEMES!

Tags: Swearing, Disney references, League of Villains as family, found family, league of villains shenanigans, crackfic, fluff, slight DabiHawks, alternate universe, chaotic LOV, implied s3xual content, domestic fluff, comedy, dysfunctional family, forced bonding, slight Spinneraki

Word Count: 9,087 words

AO3 link

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Chapter 1: Are We There Yet?

"Again! Encore! Encore!" Toga squeals as "Love Is An Open Door" ends on the Bluetooth speaker for the eighth time.

"NO! IF YOU TWO DON'T STOP SINGING, I'M GONNA PUKE FOR REAL THIS TIME!" Dabi snarls, tightly gripping the seat beneath him as he rolls down the tinted window. Toga and Twice cross their arms in frustration as Toga reluctantly chooses a different Disney song.

"Will you keep it down back there?! I'm trying to concentrate on the road!" Spinner gripes as he hits another pothole, jarring the entire van. They'd managed to hotwire an empty van with enough space to carry everyone and were headed to the "Art of Animation" resort. Toga and Twice picked it out, but everyone got to choose which section they wanted to stay in and who they wanted to room with.

"C'mon, Dabi. Where's your Disney spirit?" Hawks chides, punching him in the shoulder. His teasing stare is met with a cold glare from his boyfriend, and he shrinks back into the seat next to Dabi. Dabi, Hawks, and Mr. Compress are all packed together in the backseat while Toga, Twice, and Shigaraki sit in the middle seats of the van. Shigaraki is too absorbed in his Nintendo Switch to be bothered by their singing. Kurogiri rides shotgun while Spinner hastily drives through the busy streets.

"Of all the times of the year. I wasn't expecting spring to be so damn crowded," The lizard gripes as he screeches the vehicle to a stop. Dabi shuts his eyes and shoves his earbuds in his ears as Mr. Compress pulls up the room numbers on his phone.

"You're just lucky that we all brought masks to wear so it'll be harder to recognize us. If everyone behaves accordingly, we should be able to have an enjoyable trip without getting arrested. This is why we're at Disney World and not Tokyo Disneyland. We have less of a chance to be discovered here. I doubt they even pay attention to what goes on in our news," Kurogiri remarks as he opens up his paper map that leads to the hotel.

"Why didn't you just warp us there?" Dabi snarls, and Kurogiri turns back to look at him.

"All for One said we aren't allowed to use our Quirks here. That was the condition. If we use our Quirks, we're more likely to be discovered," Kurogiri explains.

"Oh, like Birdbrain isn't going to be obvious?" Dabi snarls, turning up the volume on his phone to drown everyone out as he closes his eyes.

"Pfft. They don't know about the Number Two Hero, here. All they know is All Might and Endeavor," Compress comments.

"Hey, I have a following in America!" Hawks huffs, and his wings ruffle, getting in Compress and Dabi's faces. They both promptly shove his wings out of the way.

"How much longer? I wanna finish this level before we get out of the car," Shigaraki pipes up, and Spinner checks his GPS.

"Ten minutes," Spinner answers as he revs the engine.

"Speedrunnnn," Shigaraki mumbles under his breath as he starts erratically mashing buttons.

...

"OH MY GOD WE'RE HERE!!!!" Toga squeals as Spinner turns past the Art of Animation sign. Her scream jolts Dabi awake, who realizes that Hawks fell asleep on him. He reflexively pushes him off, and Hawks yawns before blinking awake.

"Fake ID's ready?" Kurogiri asks to the general crowd, and everyone nods. Toga unzips the pink backpack at her feet and pulls out a set of Minnie Mouse ears that she slaps onto her head, awkwardly pushing back her space buns. Spinner swerves into a parking space and jumps out of the car before popping the trunk open.

"Everybody OUT!" The lizard orders, and everyone scrambles out of the car. Spinner pulls his brown hiker backpack over his shoulders as Kurogiri grabs a singular black suitcase from the trunk.

"Move!" Shigaraki grips as he snatches a Spider-Man backpack from the top of the pile and carefully places his Switch inside it. Twice grabs one black and one pink duffel and hands Toga a glittering pink tote bag while Compress takes his modest brown briefcase from the side compartment. Finally, Dabi reaches to pull his purple rolling suitcase when he notices the number of remaining bags in the car.

"Dude. I told you to pack light," He growls as Hawks nervously walks to the trunk.

"I did!" He insists as he grabs the final three giant red duffels. Dabi takes out one of his earbuds and tucks it in his T-shirt before pulling up his hood. Spinner unceremoniously slams the trunk shut before the group makes their way to the colorful building to check in.

...

"Did everyone get checked in okay?" Kurogiri asks as he does a headcount. The rag-tag bunch is crowded in front of the gigantic "Nemo" themed pool. Toga stares at the giant turtle statue with an awestruck expression, and Twice dances from foot to foot next to her.

"Alrighty. Toga, Twice, Compress, you three will be staying in 'Finding Nemo' suite. Toga gets dibs on the master bedroom so she can have her privacy. You two will have to fight over who sleeps on the sofa bed or the table bed," Kurogiri explains as he gives out their Magic Bands.

"OH! I WANNA SLEEP ON A TABLE! No, the sofa is definitely the better option," Twice argues with himself as Kurogiri walks towards Hawks and Dabi. He pulls out Dabi's other earbud, which makes him snap to attention, and a thin curl of smoke rises out of his ear.

"You two. 'The Lion King' Suite. Do whatever you want, I don't care. Just please don't be too troublesome," Kurogiri sighs as he hands the bands to Hawks. Dabi sniffs as he takes the black magic band from Hawks before helping him put on his red one.

"That leaves Spinner and Shigaraki. You'll be staying with me in the 'Cars' area," Kurogiri drones as Shigaraki starts jumping up and down.

"DO I GET TO MEET THE LIGHTNING MCQUEEN!" Shigaraki cackles excitedly as he pulls on both of his protective gloves.

"Wow, didn't know our fearless leader was some car's biggest fan," Dabi snickers, and Shigaraki shoots him an indignant look.

"Lightning McQueen is not 'some car'! He's a legend!" Shigaraki snaps.

"You know it's just a movie right? He's just computer code," Spinner comments, only for Shigaraki to kick him in the shin.

"Hey! No fighting! This is going to be a nice bonding experience! Now everyone get unpacked and we'll meet up for dinner at the cafeteria. We're waiting to go to any parks until tomorrow. I was able to book us a full week here," The wispy man clarifies before the three groups split off.

Chapter 2: Welcome to the Jungle

"Did you pack everything you own, Featherhead?" Dabi growls as he drags his rolling suitcase down the walkway leading to "The Lion King" area.

"Of course not," Hawks retorts as he grapples with his duffels. The sun sets over the resort as the two walk side by side, dodging sprinting toddlers in swim trunks as their parents try to corral them toward the "Nemo" swimming pool.

"OOOOH! Dabi, look it's Mufasa!" Hawks gasps as he points to the giant lion statue that looks out over the Pride Rock structure. Dabi, however, doesn't hear him as he already put his earbuds back in. He walks a few feet away before he realizes Hawks is no longer by his side. Dabi's eyes narrow as he turns around to see Hawks taking a selfie with the statue.

"Hawks!" He growls, gripping the handle of his luggage tighter as he leers at him from under his sunglasses. Hawks' smile fades as he slowly puts his phone back in his pocket and skips back to Dabi's side. The two walk past an archway with Simba, Timon, and Pumbaa, past the towering green, "forested" buildings towards the Elephant Graveyard.

"Ughhhh, why are we close to all the bad guys," Hawks groans, "I wanted to be near the Hakuna Matata section."

"I like the hyenas, jackass," Dabi snaps, taking out an earbud so he doesn't lose the feathered hero again. "All I want is just two minutes. Of uninterrupted punk music. Just two fucking minutes," He growls under his breath as they walk behind the giant replica of the Elephant Graveyard and the three laughing hyenas. They walk up to the automatic doors and are immediately hit with AC and the smell of fresh linens.

"Third floor. Perfect view of the graveyard at night. I think Toga said it glows red in the cave," Dabi mutters as they strut to the elevator. Hawks struggles to shove all of his bags in as Dabi awkwardly positions himself next to the buttons and pushes the number three.

Ding!

The elevator doors open, and Dabi roughly pushes Hawks out of the cramped elevator.

"Hey!" Hawks grumbles as Dabi struts down the hallway, following the pawprint pattern on the carpeting until they reach their room. Dabi holds his black Magic Band up to the gray sensor above the door handle, and the light flashes from red to green as a resounding click sounds from the door.

"Home sweet home," Dabi sighs as he opens the door, and Hawks follows him inside. Hawks' eyes widen as he takes in all of the references to the Disney movie as Dabi heads toward the bedroom. The small living room has stools with lyrics on them, and a table bed with a picture of Simba inside rests just to the left across from a small bathroom. Dabi throws his suitcase on the Queen bed in the bedroom and unzips it, getting out his leather jacket and various band T-shirts as he pulls open one of the drawers on the dresser. Hawks hefts his duffel bags into the room and grunts as he sets them on the ground.

"So, am I...I...sleeping on the pull-out couch?" Hawks stammers, and Dabi raises his eyebrow as he looks over his shoulder.

"Do you want to sleep on the pull-out couch?" Dabi says flatly, and Hawks vigorously shakes his head.

"I thought it was implied that we'd both be sleeping in here," Dabi shrugs as he hangs up his jacket in the closet.

"Just making sure," Hawks smiles, clapping his hands together before he starts unzipping his bags. The scarred villains yawns as he falls backward flat onto the bed, stretching out and putting his hands behind his head.

"You gonna be okay not using your Quirk for a week?" Hawks pries as he starts putting his clothes away in the closet.

"It'll be a relief. Less pain," Dabi mumbles, closing his eyes as he waits for Hawks to finish unpacking.

"Why do you feel pain exactly when you use your Qu-" Hawks starts as he puts away his last athletic shirt.

"What did I tell you about asking me that," Dabi snaps, getting off the bed and walking up behind Hawks.

"Sorry," Hawks mumbles as he turns around and comes face to face with his boyfriend. Dabi pulls down his black mask and suddenly grabs Hawks' chin before roughly kissing him. Hawks' wings flutter, but Dabi ends it almost as quickly as he started.

"Let's get going. I don't feel like getting bitched at by Handjob," Dabi says as he pulls his mask back up over his nose to hide his scars and slides his sunglasses back on. Hawks swallows hard and nods as Dabi walks out of the bedroom, and he swiftly follows him, a few feathers floating to the ground behind the Pro Hero.

Chapter 3: Under the "Frozen" Sea

"Alllllrighty! That's the last of my Disney ears! Twiiiiiice! Did you bring all our pins?" Toga calls as she finishes arranging her various themed ear headbands on her dresser.

"Yup! Right here, Toga!" Twice beams as he brandishes a box full of enamel Disney pins from his black duffel. It makes a terrible jingling noise from all of the collectibles sliding against one another, and Compress cringes. "I'll put them on the little green seats by the sofa bed!" He calls to her as Toga digs through her duffel bag to hang up her outfits.

"Hey, Twice. You know that movie you and Toga love so much?" Compress pipes up as he sits down in the corner chair, scrolling through articles on his phone.

"Encanto?" Twice raises his eyebrow, and Compress shakes his head.

"Brave?" Twice asks again, but Compress waves his hand.

"No, no. It's that one. The one that you were singing in the car all the way down here," He snaps his fingers, trying to remember the name.

"Frozen!!" Twice exclaims, jumping up and down, and Compress nods.

"Yeah, there's actually some pretty interesting theories around it," Compress drones as Toga eavesdrops on the two of them from the bedroom.

"Theories?" Twice jumps onto the table-bed and puts his chin in his hands, eagerly listening.

"Yes, theories. As in, some believe that Walt Disney himself has been frozen somewhere underneath the park! There's some secret vault that conspiracy theorists believe to contain his frozen head!" Compress says as Twice encourages him to continue. Toga's heart skips. She loved blood, but she hated creepy stories. She continues listening intently as she unpacks her makeup and puts it on her bathroom counter.

"A frozen head! That's crazy! No way that's real! It sounds believable to me!" Twice drones in his dual banter as Compress continues his conspiratorial tirade.

"People say that the reason it's named frozen is so, if you Google 'Disney's Frozen' or anything like that, the rumors regarding the vault and head won't pop up! Instead, your feed will be filled with that lovely movie!" Compress's eyes widen as he continues, and Twice gasps.

"Holy shit! That's so cool! Creeeeeepy!" The morph-suited man laughs nervously as his head twitches back and forth. A chill runs down Toga's spine, and she anxiously scratches her elbow.

'So much for sleeping tonight... Ugh... All I can think about is that creepy guy's icy dead head, now...' She thinks to herself as she cringes, shoving her hair ties into a drawer. She pulls her phone out and opens up her text messages with Dabi. Toga starts typing as Compress begins describing the rumored vault and powerful figures behind the conspiracy in detail.

Toga: Dabssssss. Compress & Twice are being suuuuuper creepy.

Immediately, Dabi starts typing.

Dabi: Pedo creepy?

Toga groans, moving her fingers as fast as she can.

Toga: NO! Like scary creepy. Scary stories creepy.

Dabi: Toga. You sleep with a knife under your pillow.

Toga: I can't use it if I'm asleep and exposed. I'm sleeping in a room by myself.

Dabi: They're literally right outside your room. You'll be fine.

Toga: Can I crash with u and Hawks tonight?

Dabi leaves her message on read, and Toga sighs, shoving her phone back into the pocket of her navy skirt. She tries to ignore Twice and Compress's excited voices, but all she can think about is Walt Disney's open eyes staring at her through an ice block in some steel chamber. She grabs one of her eyeshadow brushes from her makeup bag and grabs one of her red eyeshadow palettes.

"Don't ruin my favorite movie, dumb magician," She gripes under her breath as she reapplies the sweeping red smoky eye to her face.

Ding!

Toga pulls out her phone and sets her brush and palette on the countertop. It's a message from Dabi.

Dabi: Are you guys coming? Hawks and I are the only ones here. He's trying to drag me into the gift shop. SOS

Toga gasps.

"TWICE THERE'S A GIFT SHOP!!!!!!!" She screams at the top of her lungs, shattering the men's conversation.

"WHAT?! No, we can't spend any money. LET'S BUY EVERYTHING!" Twice's voice pitches up and down as his attention is completely torn away from Compress.

Ding!

Birdman: Dabi won't let me get anything. If you and Twice get over here we can overpower him. I'll buy you cotton candy at Magic Kingdom.

A blissful smile spreads across Toga's face as she darts out of the bathroom.

"Hawks is buying me cotton candy, let's go!" She giggles as she grabs her pink Magic Band and promptly runs out of the ocean-themed suite. Compress sighs as he watches Twice sprint out of the door after her. The magician grabs his cane and slowly follows them, deciding to hold off on the conspiracy rants for the time being.

Chapter 4: KACHOW!

"WHAT?! THIS IS BULLSHIT!!!" Shigaraki screeches as he stands in front of the statue of Lightning McQueen and Sally from Disney's Cars.

"Tomura, surely you didn't expect him to talk to you. It's just decoration for the theme," Spinner sighs, putting his hand on his boss's shoulder.

"Well...they...they have other characters in the parks that you get to meet and talk to. I thought I could get his autograph or something," Shigaraki frowns dejectedly, adjusting the hand on his face.

"I believe there's an attraction in the Hollywood Studios park where he actually talks. Perhaps that would be of interest. Now, come along," Kurogiri says before leading the two villains into the building marked "Cozy Cone Motel". Shigaraki mutters under his breath as he fidgets with his protective gloves. Kurogiri touches his silver Magic Band to the gray bar above the door, and the green light flashes, allowing them inside. Shigaraki's eyes widen as they enter the Cars themed room, and he removes the hand from his face in awe.

"Woooow. It's like we're in the movie!" He beams, and Spinner shakes his head, trying to hide the smile on his face. Spinner finds it odd that their boss acts like a child; something must've happened in his childhood for him to remain in such an immature state. Tomura was the second youngest in the group, only older than Toga. The only thing that made sense for him to lead was his Quirk. He runs up to the table and pulls the bed down, revealing a picture of Tow Mater.

"I CALL THIS ONE!" He squeals excitedly as he throws his Spider-Man backpack onto it. Kurogiri moves toward the main bedroom and begins to unpack his things while Spinner starts unfolding the pull-out couch bed.

"Oooooh! Spinner! Wanna stay up all night watching movies!" The crusty villain says excitedly, clapping his hands together.

"No. Everyone has to be in bed tonight at a reasonable time so we can get up early tomorrow," Kurogiri orders, and Shigaraki whines.

"Who made you the boss?" He snaps.

"All for One," Kurogiri retorts calmly, and Shigaraki shuts up.

Spinner slams his hiking pack on the bed with a resounding creak and unzips it. He calmly slides a katana out of the backpack (that looks like it definitely shouldn't have fit) and slides it under his pillow.

"Isn't that dangerous?" Shigaraki points out, but Spinner just shrugs.

"Haven't died yet," The gecko smirks, and Shigaraki shakes his head as he pulls out his Nintendo Switch and plugs it into the nightstand by his bed.

"I guess I have to wear these stupid things the entire trip," Shigaraki growls as he scratches at the protective gloves. They were specially made to sensor his Quirk, allowing him to freely touch things.

"Will it really be so bad to actually wear them? Hell, you can boop doggos on the snoot now," Spinner laughs, and Shigaraki cringes.

"Never say that again. You're too old," Shigaraki snarls.

"I'm only one year older than you," Spinner mutters under his breath.

"Alright, you two. Let's meet up with everyone else. There's a large cafeteria where we can get food," Kurogiri says excitedly as he walks out of the bedroom and opens the suite door.

Chapter 5: Be Our Guest

"I miss the bar," Dabi growls as he finishes off the bottle of ginger ale.

"Awwww, is someone being nostalgic," Hawks teases, and Dabi pulls his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to glare at him.

"No. I want alcohol," He snaps, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Hawks rolls his eyes and puts his head down on the table dejectedly, taking a bite out of his last chicken tender.

"Can we go to the gift show, now?" Hawks begs, and Dabi shakes his head.

"HEYYYYYYYYY!" Toga's squeal is audible over the blaring DisneyMania music as she skips over to their table. She's holding a souvenir cup full of pink lemonade in one hand and a plate of chocolate crepes in another.

"Togaaa! Wait up!" Twice calls after her, holding a tray both of his and Compress's food as the masked magician follows closely behind.

"Toga, you're gonna be up all night with all that sugar," Dabi sighs as she slams the plate down in the booth on the other side of him.

"Whatever, you're not the boss of me," She sticks her tongue out at him before she starts scarfing it down.

"Good luck," Dabi smirks at Compress as he sits across from Hawks at the big round table. The older magician sighs and shakes his head as he takes off his top hat.

"There you idiots are," Shigaraki calls as he, Spinner, and Kurogiri spot the rag-tag bunch. Once everyone gets settled at the table, Kurogiri unfolds a paper from his pocket and places it in the center.

"Alright, so. Tomorrow, we're going to Magic Kingdo-" The wispy man starts.

"OH MY GOD YAY!!!!!!!!" Toga squeals, squirming in her seat.

Kurogiri clears his throat before continuing, "Yes. Magic Kingdom. Then, Tuesday, we're going to Animal Kingdom. Wednesday is EPCOT. Thursday is Hollywood Studios. Friday is back to Magic Kingdom. Saturday we can go to any of the waterparks, and then Sunday we're flying back to Japan."

"Cool. So is there gonna be a designated buddy system or something?" Shigaraki yawns, sipping out of his twisty straw. Kurogiri shrugs.

"No one should be by themselves at any given time," Kurogiri explains.

"Well, I guess Dabi will be attached to his pretty little pro the entire time, huh," Shigaraki sneers, looking at Dabi and expecting a witty comeback.

Dabi starts muttering lyrics under his breath and stares off into space, completely zoning out as Shigaraki speaks to him.

"Hey! Burn victim! I'm talking to you, Hot Topic!" Shigaraki starts snapping aggressively in Dabi's face, but he doesn't even flinch. Toga cups her hand to her ear and listens to the music playing in the cafeteria before her eyes widen and she nods.

"Yeah, you're not gonna get anything out of him until this is over. It's 'Surface Pressure' from Encanto," Toga shrugs before sipping her pink lemonade.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Spinner huffs.

"Did you not pay attention to him when that scene was playing? Dabi was totally going through some kind of connection or weird awakening with that song. It's no wonder he never talks about his family if he relates to it," Toga explains ambivalently.

"I know how to snap him out of it," Hawks smirks before sticking his finger in his mouth and pulling it out. Toga cringes as Hawks suddenly jams his finger in Dabi's ear.

"AGH! WHAT THE FUCK! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!" Dabi suddenly screams, grabbing Hawks by the throat and shoving him into the booth. Toga giggles psychotically and claps; Kurogiri looks around nervously, making sure they aren't drawing too much attention to themselves.

"Sorry," Hawks gargles as Dabi squeezes his throat, his eyes burning into the winged Hero.

"Calm down, guys! BEAT HIS ASS, BRO!" Twice's dual-toned banter sounds off. Dabi's lip curls as he slowly lets Hawks free, and the hero promptly goes into a coughing fit, rubbing his neck.

"Okay. Everyone settle down. Please," Kurogiri pleads, and Dabi straightens up.

"Sorry," He mutters sarcastically.

...

Everyone else has already retreated to their rooms, but Hawks, Twice, and Toga are still running giddily through the gift shop.

"Ooooooh! Look at these, Twice!" Toga trills as she picks up a professional drawing of Merida fighting Mor'du.

"Oh to be a princess fighting a bear!" Twice sighs as Hawks comes up behind them in oversized Minnie Mouse sunglasses and a Powerline bomber jacket.

"Do you think Dabi's gonna be mad?" He says sheepishly, showing off the yellow fake leather.

"Na. He'll probably just say you look like a highlighter," Toga shakes her head as she runs over to more Disney Princess merch.

"I didn't know you liked A Goofy Movie," Twice remarks, and Hawks smiles.

"Oh heck yeah, bro. Dabs and I watch it all the time. Don't tell him I told you this, but he knows every word to 'Stand Out' and 'Eye to Eye'," Hawks winks as his voice gets more hushed, and Twice snickers. Toga returns with a sweatshirt that says "Let It Go!" on the front.

"Okay, let's get out of here!" She smiles as she skips to the checkout line.

Chapter 6: Do You Wanna Build A Snowman?

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

Dabi and Hawks both freeze mid-kiss as Toga bangs on the door of their suite, her face drenched in tears.

“Who the hell is that?!” Hawks whispers, panicked.

“No idea. Stay here,” Dabi reluctantly growls as he pulls away from his boyfriend and releases his grip on his shoulders. He pulls on his gray boxers and tattered navy sweatpants before walking to the door. Upon looking through the peephole, he sees Toga intensely pounding on the door in her Lilo and Stitch pajamas. Dabi groans before he cracks the door open.

“What do you want Tog-” He starts, but his voice catches in his throat when he sees the tears streaming down her face.

“I’m sorry I know you and Hawks wanted alone time which is why you’re all the way over here but I had a really REALLY bad nightmare and Compress and Twice won’t stop talking about the frozen Disney head and can I just sleep in here tonight?!?!?!?!?” Toga rambles in a single breath as she frantically wipes her tears away. Dabi’s harsh expression softens and he rubs the back of his neck.

“Uhhhhh,” He mutters, staring at the floor to think.

“Please?” Toga sniffs, making the best “puppy dog” expression she can manage. Dabi sighs and mutters something under his breath before dragging his hand down his face in exasperation.

“One second. I’ll be right back,” He says before slowly shutting the door and walking back to the bedroom.

“It’s Toga,” Dabi mutters, his eyebrows furrowing as he stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

“Is she okay?” Hawks raises his eyebrow as he covers himself with the comforter.

“She…she needs to stay with us tonight. Bad dream. The guys aren’t helping,” Dabi explains as he walks in the room and jerks open a drawer.

“Guess that means we’re putting this on pause,” Hawks mutters, rolling his eyes.

“I’m gonna sleep on the couch so I’m out there with her. She’ll feel safer that way. You cool with sleeping in here by yourself?” Dabi asks as he pulls an old white T-shirt over his head.

“Aw, what? The hell, man?” Hawks pouts, and Dabi just shakes his head.

“This is one night. We have the rest of the week. Once we hit the parks she’ll be too distracted and will completely forget about it. Trust me. And then, I'll be in here with you all night long,” The scarred villain smiles before walking back to the bedside.

“Goodnight,” He whispers before swiftly kissing Hawks on the cheek and then shoving his face away. Hawks mutters dissents under his breath as he rubs the spot where Dabi pushed him, his eyes narrowing as his lover leaves the room and shuts the door behind him.

Dabi takes a deep breath before opening the door again, this time completely wide open.

“Come on,” He says with a tired smile, and Toga darts into the room and immediately leaps onto the table bed. Dabi shuts the door and begins throwing off the couch cushions so he can pull out the foldable bed.

“Oh, you’re not gonna be with Hawks?” Toga says with a hint of relief in her voice.

“If anyone tries to take your head in the night, they’ll have to deal with me first,” Dabi smirks as he turns off the light and climbs into the creaky sofa-bed. Toga smiles to herself as she wraps up in the thin sheets and spare blanket on the small mattress.

“They’d run as soon as they’d see your scary face,” Toga giggles, her fangs glistening in the moonlight flooding through the curtains. Dabi rolls his eyes.

“The last person that said something about my scary face ended up burning in an alley,” He yawns, scratching at the staples on his neck as he lies down.

“Hawks seems to like your face,” Toga points out, and Dabi tries to hide his smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, he does,” He whispers to himself, attempting to get comfortable on the makeshift bed.

“I wish Izuku or Ochaco would like my face,” Toga pouts, sniffing.

“Hey. You have a wonderful face, Himiko Toga. Anyone who tells you otherwise will have a whole league of villains to deal with,” Dabi says encouragingly, cracking his knuckles for emphasis. Toga smiles brightly.

“Thank you. For everything,” She whispers.

“Of course, sis,” Dabi yawns absentmindedly as he drifts off to sleep.

…

“Hey, Dabi?”

Silence.

“Dabi?”

More silence.

“PSSST! DABI!” Toga whisper-screams, and the burned man turns to face her.

“ What?! ” He snaps, clearly exhausted. He hated being woken up.

“Do you really think there’s a frozen head under Disney World?” She stammers. “Of course not, Toga. That’s horse shit,” Dabi yawns, rubbing his eyes as he moves to face the wall again.

“Oh. Okay,” She calmly says, and Dabi starts to drift off to sleep again.

“Hey, Dabi?” Toga whispers again. “Toga, go to sleep,” He says flatly, closing his eyes. If he didn’t see her as a younger sister, he would’ve kicked her out by now. It was getting irritating.

“How’d you get your scars?” She pries, curiosity in her tone. Dabi’s eyes snap open, but he says nothing.

“Dabi?” Her voice echoes off the walls, but he remains still as a statue. He holds his tongue and stares into the dark nothingness.

“Guess he fell asleep for real this time,” Toga mutters to herself before snuggling into the blanket and falling into dreams. Dabi, on the other hand, is now struck with insomnia.

‘Great,’ He thinks, ‘Now I’m going to be the one that has a nightmare.’

Chapter 7: Take Small Children By The Hand

BANG! BANG! BANG!“ Fucking shit! ” Dabi gasps as he jolts awake, sitting straight up. His left palm suddenly ignites as someone bangs on the suite door. Hawks bursts through the bedroom door in nothing but bright red boxers and brandishes one of his sword feathers, a half-asleep look on his face. Toga, on the other hand, remains fast asleep in the bed with the pillow on her head. Her mouth hangs open as she snores.

“DABI! HAWKS! OPEN UP! TOGA’S GONE!” Twice’s voice screams through the door. Dabi groans and mutters curses under his breath as he stalks toward the door and jerks it open.

“She’s in here, you crazy bastard. Let the whole resort know she’s missing why don’t ya. Shut the fuck up,” Dabi snaps, pointing toward Toga’s sleeping form. Twice sighs in relief and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Oh thank God. Compress and I were so worried when we checked on her this morning and saw she was gone,” He whispers, anxiously twiddling his thumbs.

“Well maybe if you morons weren’t creeping her out with your dumb theories, she still woulda been in there,” Dabi seethes under his breath.

“Huh?” Twice cocks his head, not sure if he heard Dabi correctly or not. Dabi just rolls his eyes and slams the door in his face. Hawks groggily puts his feather sword back into his wings, and Dabi just looks him up and down.

“What? Couldn’t put on a pair of pants?” Dabi mocks him, and Hawks’ face turns bright red.

“I-I didn’t know if you were in danger or not,” Hawks stammers, flustered.

“Uh-huh. Okay. Go get dressed,” Dabi snorts before pushing Hawks back into the bedroom and shutting the door. He yawns and stretches, wincing at the stretching staples in his back and abdomen before he goes to the table-bedside.

“Toga. Wake up. We gotta get ready to go. Twice is outside looking for you,” He whispers as he gently shakes her awake. Toga sleepily blinks awake and slowly lifts her head out from under the pillow.

“Morning, Dabiiiii,” She sings, smiling, “No nightmares.”

“Good. Now go with Twice so you can get dressed for the park. I figure you’ll wanna bring your princess headband ear things,” Dabi says softly as he tears the covers off.

“Okay, I’m going. I’m going,” Toga grumbles as she leaps off of the bed and opens the door.

“TOGA! I’M SO GLAD YOU’RE OKAY!” Twice shouts before wrapping her up in a bear hug.

“I’m fine! Sorry that I had to leave last night! Y’all were just being a little too scary for me. I’m excited!!! Let’s go!” She squeals before the two best friends run off skipping arm in arm together. Dabi closes the door and sniffs before walking to the bathroom to shower.

…

After breakfast, the group clamors onto one of the Disney Parks buses to get to the Magic Kingdom.

“Now, we must always stay with a buddy at all times throughout the park. We’ll go to Tomorrowland first after we get a picture in front of the castle,” Kurogiri explains, but only Spinner and Compress are listening. Shigaraki plays his Nintendo Switch while Toga, Twice, and Hawks look out the window. Dabi is half-asleep with his hood and mask pulled up, his earbuds blaring music at such a volume that it’s a wonder he’s even able to sleep.

“OOOH! OOOH! I SEE THE SIGN!” Toga squeals excitedly, grabbing Twice’s arm and shaking it.

“The most magical place on Earth! This is gonna suck,” Twice beams and then gripes, his head twitching back and forth. The bus takes a wide turn, making Dabi smack right into the pole, and he jerks awake. He takes out his earbuds and shoves them in the pockets of his black hoodie before looking out the window.

“Mess him up, Pikachu. Or I swear I’m going to evolve you,” Shigaraki mutters under his breath as he furiously clicks the buttons on his gaming system.

“Shigaraki. You can’t be on that the entire time. If you don’t put it up yourself, I’m going to take it away,” Kurogiri reprimands Tomura. The leader just growls and saves his game before sliding it into Kurogiri’s giant backpack. He was the designated “stuff-holder” for the trip because he was convinced his colleagues would lose everything. They would forget their heads at home if he wouldn’t remind them to put them on their shoulders.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please gather your personal belongings, watch your head and step as you exit, and take small children by the hand,” The bus-speaker sounds, promptly causing Dabi to grab Toga’s hand.

“Hey!” Toga frowns.

“You’re gonna look at me and tell me you’re not a small child?” Dabi teases her, and Toga pouts.

“I know what I am,” She sticks her tongue out at him, and he laughs before standing up. Kurogiri places his hands on Shigaraki’s shoulders to make sure he doesn’t wander off as they all step off the bus.

“Okay. Now, we have to go through the metal detector and the bag check,” Kurogiri mutters as they all begin walking from the bus stops toward the gates of the park.

“The, uh, the what now?” Toga mutters, suddenly nervous.

“Toga. Don’t tell me,” Dabi groans as he lets go of her hand. Hawks sighs.

“Did no one check her?” The winged hero remarks. Kurogiri takes a deep breath and walks up to Toga.

“Himiko. I’m going to warp all your knives away. I have to. We can’t go through the bag check. They’ll be in your room when you get back to the resort,” Kurogiri says authoritatively, and Toga reluctantly complies. The group crowds around the two to shield them from view as Toga gradually hands over all of her weapons to the wispy figure. A full five minutes go by before they’re all gone.

“Alright. Now, to Magic Kingdom!” Compress declares, and the group starts following the giant crowds.

Chapter 8: Main Street

“Where’s Dabi?” Twice suddenly asks as the group gathers behind the check area.

“He’s yelling at the cast members and calling them ableist fucks for inquiring about all the surgical staples and metal,” Hawks says flatly as he watches his boyfriend making obscene gestures.

“He’s gonna get us kicked out. Why is he so cranky?” Spinner complains.

“He’s always cranky. That’s his thing,” Shigaraki replies, but Toga shakes her head.

“No, it’s because of me. I don’t think he slept much last night because I kept asking him questions,” Toga admits, scratching her head where the Princess ears are rubbing.

“I’ll go handle it,” Kurogiri sighs as he walks over to the fuming twenty-four-year-old and the nervous cast member. The group watches Kurogiri step between them and relay something to the woman while Dabi holds his tongue, clearly irritated that Kurogiri is talking for him. Whatever he did, it seems to have worked, as the two walk back to the group.

“What did Kurogiri say?” Hawks raises his eyebrow.

“That he’s orchestrating a retreat for troubled individuals. Isn’t entirely a lie. And that I have anger issues. Which also, not entirely a lie,” Dabi growls before shoving one of his earbuds back in.

“I WANNA GO SEE THE CASTLE!” Toga whines, jumping up and down excitedly. “LET’S GO! LET’S GO!” She grabs Twice by the arm and the two begin skipping away.

“Well, shit. We gotta keep up or we’re gonna lose them. Come on,” Dabi sighs as he grabs Hawks’ hand and sprints after them, dragging the startled Pro behind him.

“We’ll meet you guys there!” Spinner calls out as he, Shigaraki, Compress, and Kurogiri stop by the map station.

…

“Alright, smiles on three! One! Two! Three!” The photographer says as he takes the group’s picture in front of the castle on Toga’s phone.

“THANK YOU SO MUCH!” She squeals as she checks the picture quality. "Are you suuuure no one wants to stay and watch the parade?" She pleads hopefully. All the boys groan and shake their heads.

“Is everyone ready to start heading to Tomorrowland?” Kurogiri asks as they start walking toward the bridge of the futuristic land.

“OOOH! OOOH! I wanna ride Astro Orbiter!” Twice jumps up and down, and Toga immediately joins him.

“YES!!!” She squeals in unison.

“Astro Orbiter? That sounds like it could be fun. Whaddya say, Shigaraki?” Spinner elbows him, and the leader just nods.

“Sounds cool. Sure, whatever,” He mutters, and the four of them sprint toward the center of Tomorrowland to stand in line for the red elevator.

“I feel like the Carousel of Progress will be quite thrilling!” Compress declares, and Kurogiri nods.

“I was thinking the exact same thing. You boys care to join us?” Kurogiri motions towards Dabi and Hawks.

“I’d rather eat glass,” Dabi says nonchalantly while Hawks’ eyes dart to the “Buzz Lightyear” ride.

“HOLY SHIT! DABI! LOOK! COMPETITION! OUR FAVORITE! LET’S GO!” Hawks squawks before dragging his boyfriend to the obnoxiously long ride queue.

Chapter 9: Buzz Lightyear's Space Ranger Spin

Hawks taps Dabi on the shoulder as he stares at all the bright colors in the ride queue, completely in his own world.

“What?” He groans, turning away from the animatronic Buzz Lightyear to face Hawks.

“Why don’t you hold my hand while we’re in line?” He stammers, anxiously tapping his foot on the ground as he looks back at a couple several feet ahead of them. They’re being over-the-top lovey-dovey and giggling in the line.

“What are you talking about?” Dabi rolls his eyes before following Hawks’ gaze. He snorts and shakes his head.

“Are you ashamed of me or something?” Hawks pouts.

“Of course not, idiot,” Dabi retorts, standing up straight instead of leaning on the railing. Now, he’s looking down at Hawks rather than being eye-level, making the hero’s heart race. Dabi’s eyebrows furrow for a minute, and he seems to struggle to find an explanation. “I’m just…not used to being all…romantic or whatever…in public…is all. Are you really jealous of a couple of strangers?”

“Maybe,” Hawks mumbles, and his wings droop as they move forward the next few feet with the line. They’re almost to the room where they’ll get in the cars. Dabi sighs and looks straight ahead, but he can feel his boyfriend’s disappointed gaze.

“Ugh, fuck. Fffffiiine ,” Dabi growls under his breath before abruptly grabbing Hawks’ hand. Hawks makes a high-pitched surprised noise reminiscent of a dog toy squeaker that makes the scarred villain smile beneath his mask.

“You gonna shut up now, Birdbr-” Dabi is cut off by Hawks clinging to his arm like a toddler, almost making him run into the railing. However, the tiny flare of reflexive anger is extinguished when he looks down to see Hawks’ head resting on his shoulder.

“You just couldn’t stop at handholding could you,” Dabi sighs, trying to sound annoyed.

“C’mon, are you really surprised?” Hawks smirks as they reach the cast member.

“Honestly, not even a little bit,” Dabi replies as they dart on the moving sidewalk and hop into the brightly colored.

“Okay, prepare to looooose, burnt bacon bitch,” Hawks teases, cracking his knuckles as the car closes.

“Ohhh I’m gonna destroy you, chicken boy,” Dabi laughs as they both start shooting the targets.

…

“DAMNIT!” Dabi curses as he misses two of the Z targets. He’d managed to hit every single target so far and was practically smoking when his streak was ruined.

“Dabi! There are children!” Hawks scolds him as he continues shooting the fake laser gun.

“WHAT THE FUCK! I HIT THAT!” A parent two cars ahead of them screams, and Dabi looks at Hawks with an amused expression. A flash goes off in Dabi’s peripheral vision, and he spots the fading glowing light of the ride camera as they near the middle of the ride. If Hawks was so upset with him not being over the top with P.D.A., he’d give him exactly what he wanted. Right as they near the spot with the flash, Dabi unhooks one side of his mask, roughly pulls down Hawks’ mask, and kisses him. It was very short, just enough to get it on the camera, and then Dabi immediately pulled both of their masks back on.

Hawks is completely frozen in the seat while Dabi continues shooting the targets.

“Wow, guess I’m gonna win by even more now. You still playing?” He teases.

“I hate you,” Hawks stutters before he grasps the laser gun and frantically tries to aim to catch up again. “You cheated.”

“I’m using my resources ,” Dabi smirks, “Besides, I was several hundred ahead of you, anyway.”

“Whatever,” Hawks mutters, stepping on Dabi’s foot.

“Pfft, you liked it,” Dabi snickers, ignoring the tantrum.

“Shut up,” Hawks says indignantly, trying to be mad and failing miserably.

“Never,” Dabi winks as his score continues to climb miles above his boyfriend’s.

Chapter 10: Astro Orbiter

"This is it? I thought the elevator ride was in Hollywood Studios?" Shigaraki grumbles as he crosses his arms in frustration. The group of four had been waiting in the ride queue for almost an hour now, and everyone but Spinner was growing impatient.

"I've heard you can see the whole park from the top!" Toga squeals excitedly, and Spinner checks the time on his phone as they move up a few more steps.

"The elevator takes us to the ride, boss," Twice beams, and Shigaraki sighs.

"Whatever. I just hate how long we've been standing here," He growls as they approach the cast member.

"How many in your party?" The Disney employee smiles, and Toga holds up four fingers.

"Right this way please," The man says, gesturing to wait in a small enclosed gate before the elevator.

"OOOOOOOH! THIS IS GONNA BE SO FUN!" Toga screams, hugging twice as she jumps up and down.

"It better be," Tomura complains, and Spinner just pats him on the shoulder.

"It'll be fun, Shigaraki. Don't worry," He smiles. The elevator dings, and the doors open. The cast member gestures for the group to head inside, and they all pack into the red elevator. Shigaraki eyes the walls uneasily as the elevator shoots skyward until it comes to a screeching halt. As the doors open, they all step out onto the platform.

"Oh, this looks like that Dumbo ride," Spinner remarks as they all begin to step forward. Shigaraki watches the spinning rockets in awe as the previous rides slowly come back down to Earth. As they disembark, the villains approach the ride. Toga and Twice force themselves into the rocket behind Spinner and Shigaraki.

"There's only one seatbelt?!" Shigaraki exclaims as he digs for one, and Spinner nods.

"Just hold on tight, boss. I won't let ya fall out," He chuckles.

"WOOHOOOO! LET'S GOOOOO!" Toga and Twice scream in unison, laughing as the cast member gives the OK to start the ride. However, as soon as the spinning machine begins to lift into the air, Shigaraki realizes just how high they are above the ground. They have a perfect view of the castle, but everyone in Tomorrowland looks like ants.

"OH MY GOD! GET ME DOWN GET ME DOWN GET ME DOWN!" He screams, but Spinner just smirks and makes the ship ascend higher into the air.

"It's alright boss. It's perfectly safe," He reassures Shigaraki, who is paling quickly beneath the hand on his face.

"FASTER! FASTER!" Toga cries out with glee as Twice makes their rocket erratically go up and down.

"GUYS! I SEE DABI!" Twice shouts as he points far below. Hawks is literally dragging him to one of the face paint stands, and Dabi rolls his eyes as he hands the cast member a bill as Hawks leaps into the chair.

"OH! THERE'S COMPRESS!" Toga waves to their companion down below as he and Kurogiri come out of the Carousel of Progress.

"I DON'T CARE! I WANT DOWN!" The leader screams.

"Shiggy, you ain't gonna last on any of the big rides if you're scared of heights," Spinner rolls his eyes, and Shigaraki glares at him.

"You idiot! It wouldn't be a problem if I was PROPERLY SECURED!" Tomura wails.

"It's completely safe, dude!" Twice calls as the ride slows to a stop, and all of the rockets return to the platform.

Shigaraki scrambles out of the rocket, leaving Spinner to climb out by himself. He sprints to the elevator, ignoring the cast member's reminder to walk for his own safety.

Chapter 11: On Your Marks!

“There you guys are!” Hawks beams as he skips toward Kurogiri and Compress. The side of his face bears Lightning McQueen’s racing number in a gold and red that matches his eyes and wings. Dabi reluctantly trudges behind him, muttering something about overpriced paint jobs.

“Where’s everyone else?” Dabi raises his eyebrow as he looks around. Compress and Kurogiri exchange concerned glances before they hear a sound similar to the stampede from The Lion King. Shigaraki comes barrelling past the ride queue for the red elevator and almost topples Kurogiri as he runs right into him.

“DON’T EVER LET ME RIDE ANYTHING THAT HIGH EVER AGAIN!” He screams, and Dabi tries to hide his laughter as Hawks stares uncomfortably at the situation. Kurogiri’s eyes narrow as Twice, Toga, and Spinner approach the group.

“Found out that Tomura’s scared of heights,” Spinner shrugs, and Compress adjusts his tophat.

“Can we ride something that’s on the ground?!” Shigaraki whines, and Twice immediately points toward Tomorrowland Speedway. “BOSS! BOSS! THERE’S RACING CARS!” Twice excitedly shouts, jumping up and down. Dabi and Hawks exchange competitive smirks.

“Gonna try to make up for your crushing defeat at Buzz Lightyear?” Dabi teases, and Hawks’ feathers ruffle.

“Eat my dust, bitch!” He laughs as he and Twice make a break for the line.

“HEY! WAIT FOR ME!” Toga squeals as she sprints after them.

…

The entire League is in line for the racecars, and Shigaraki and Twice can hardly contain their excitement.

“The track seems kinda short,” Spinner complains, but no one else pays any attention.

“Guys! Guys! It’s our turn!” Toga beams excitedly as everyone piles into their own cars.

“All right racers start your engines!” The cast member calls, and the ride suddenly roars to life. As soon as the green light shines, everyone slams on the gas pedals…only to discover that the cars don’t max out. The League members coast along on the track.

“WOOHOOO! THIS IS SO FUN!” Shigaraki and Twice yell, clearly the only ones having the time of their lives.

WHAM!Dabi turns around in the seat to see Hawks slamming into his vehicle with a triumphant grin on his face.

“OOOH! I WANNA CRASH INTO DABI, TOO!” Toga screams from the car beside him.

“Toga, I swear !” The scarred villain growls, but Toga whips her steering wheel to the side, only to stop moments before side-swiping Dabi.

“Aw, man! They’re on rail tracks! No fair!” She pouts, and Dabi slams on the gas pedal, trying to get away from them.

“I do rather enjoy this one,” Compress says to no one in particular as he and Kurogiri take the lead, nearing the finish line.

Chapter 12: Space Adventure! It's An Adventure In Spaaaace!

"Come on, Hawks. What are you a chicken?" Dabi teases his boyfriend as the group stands in front of the Space Mountain queue.

"I don't...really...like...rollercoasters," Shigaraki mumbles to Kurogiri, and Spinner and Compress nod in agreement. Hawks twiddles his thumbs, his face turning red.

"It's not that I'm a chicken...it's just...really dark in there. And my night vision isn't what it used to be...and...all the screaming and stuff...I'll just get too overstimulated in there," Hawks stammers to Dabi's chagrin.

"I'd be right behind you or in front of you, Birdbrain. There's nothing to be scared of," Dabi grumbles, but Hawks vigorously shakes his head.

"No. I'll just go on the Peoplemover with Spinner and Shiggy. We'll be able to see you guys in there anyway," Hawks says quickly, putting a hand on the leader's shoulder and a wing around the lizard.

"Peoplemover?" Shigaraki raises his eyebrow.

"It's like a little cart ride that goes around all of Tomorrowland. It's up that escalator," Spinner explains, pointing at the blue trolley that coasts above them.

"I believe the laugh floor might be a worthwhile attraction, Kurogiri," Compress whispers in the wispy man's ear, and he nods. The group splits off again, leaving Dabi, Toga, and Twice at the entrance to Space Mountain.

"Well, guess it's just us three," Dabi sighs, scratching the back of his neck as he turns around to face them. Toga and Twice are jumping up and down with excitement, absolutely ecstatic to ride the coaster. ...

The wait time for the coaster was an hour, and Dabi was feeling the repercussions of his choice. Nonetheless, he was determined to ride Space Mountain, despite Toga and Twice's incessant excited banter.

"Dabi! Dabi! Dabi! Are you gonna ride the teacups with us after?!" Toga squeals, poking the scarred man in the shoulder. Dabi leers down at her, his eyes narrowing.

"Not a chance in Hell," He shudders. The mere thought of that ride made him nauseous.

"Guess it's just you and me, then, Toga!" Twice smiles from ear to ear as they move up in the ride queue. They were all thankful that there was some cool stuff to look at in the line, but the trio was getting impatient.

"Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! I see the track names!" Toga giggles, jumping up and down in anticipation. Dabi and Twice follow her pointing to read the two signs: Alpha and Omega. Upon reading the names, Dabi snickers under his breath.

"What's so funny?" Toga asks, raising her eyebrow.

"Don't worry about it. Come on, the line's moving," Dabi ushers her forward, rolling his eyes. The trio reach the cast member, who directs them into the next car lineup.

"EEEK! I'm so excited!" Toga shrieks while Twice practically shakes with glee. Dabi absentmindedly taps on the gate as they see the coaster pull up, and their gates swing open. Twice sits in the front seat while Toga sits in the middle, leaving Dabi to climb into the back. They all pull down the lap bars as the rocket starts to move forward, and the cast member waves as they go into the tunnel.

...

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Toga screams as the coaster swerves back and forth, climbing up and down in the darkness. Twice switches every other moment between laughing and screaming. Meanwhile, Dabi is looking around at all the fake comets and stars, smirking at the special effects and the feeling of the air whipping through his hair. He's definitely thankful he replaced his staples before the trip, otherwise he might've risked pulling one with all the jerking and speed. The coaster slows down through a blinking red tunnel, and Toga pouts.

"Aw, it's over already?" Toga mutters, removing her hands from her Minnie ears. She was holding onto them for dear life only moments ago. Dabi sharply inhales and leans forward, holding the ears to her head just as the coaster suddenly jerks again so they don't fly off.

"THANKS, DABI!" Toga cries out over the screams bouncing off the walls of the indoor coaster. She puts her hands back up on her head, and Dabi jokingly ruffles her hair as he lets go and leans back again. A few moments pass, and the coaster slows, curving down, and they begin to see light at the end of the tunnel.

"WOW! THAT WAS SO FUCKING COOL! I'm never riding that again," Twice switches as the car stops and the lap bars raise.

"TEACUP TIME! TEACUP TIME!" Toga shouts as they all scramble out of the carts. Toga and Twice link arms and begin skipping toward the exit walk-through while Dabi checks his phone. He has at least ten Snapchats from Hawks, and they're all pictures of him taking selfies with unsuspecting and oblivious Spinner and Shigaraki. At one point, it looks like Shigaraki is about to decay Hawks' wings in the background. Dabi groans before running after Toga and Twice.

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