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veronicaphoenix · 19 days ago

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zutto — chapter eleven | wc: 5.9k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

Chapter summary: Noah and Lia get answers from Noah's Grandma to all the questions they've had since Koi No Yokan.

Reading time: 25mins aprox.

Tags and trigger warnings: established relationship, slight angst, japanese folklore*, chinese folklore*, magical realism, fluff, a few tears, therapy, mentions/allusions to everything that has happened until now, including lia and noah's troubled childhood, lia's abusive relationship with mitch, and the time noah and lia slept together when they were drunk. Answers to all the mysteries that happened in Koi No Yokan.

General trigger warnings: this work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

The house welcomed them with the earthy, lingering fragrance of incense. It was a scent neither Lia nor Noah could identify yet, for it was unfamiliar—perhaps it was woven from cedarwood. Perhaps sandalwood. Nevertheless, the scent and warmth of the house wrapped them in a sense of home despite knowing they were far from their own. It was an odd mix of comfort and respectful distance; they knew they were guests in a house where every detail was arranged with thoughtful care by someone else, and yet, it felt like being home in a way. But it wasn’t the place which gave them that feeling, no.

It was Grandma.

They slipped off their shoes at the entrance, following tradition, and as Lia wiped her eyes, Noah leaned into a hug to envelop his grandmother, a gentle but steady wrapping of arms that worked as a reminder of everything she had quietly done for him. As a boy, he had been unaware of it all, but now, as a grown man, he was aware and full of gratitude and admiration.

“Why don’t you let Emi take your things upstairs?” Hana suggested, a familiar sparkle in her eye that meant she felt very joyful at having them home, finally. “I’ll prepare some tea, and we can sit in the tea room.”

At that, they both turned to see Emi, who had appeared with graceful timing at the entrance. She was a woman with short black hair in her late forties who had been assisting Hana for years. Noah and Lia knew her from their previous visits, and once again, as she stood with her hands neatly clasped and she nodded politely in their direction, her expression remained the same as always: serene and carrying a formality that made her seem both close and reserved at once. Though Hana managed the house alone, Emi’s help had become essential as of lately. The house was spacious and slightly too big for a woman alone. There were countless small details to tend to, and Hana, with her body aging with every passing day—that pain in her right leg, the backache—found herself struggling with certain tasks. Emi was there to lend her hands, as she had likely done for others throughout her life.

Emi’s presence had taken on a near-reverent quality since the moment she was hired, and that attitude applied not only to Hana but also to any guests arriving at the house. Her English was very poor, and that had led to some awkward exchanges between her and Noah and Lia in the past. Once, Lia had tried to bridge the gap and she’d asked Emi to sit with them at the tea table. But Emi, polite and respectful as ever, had simply smiled, bowed, and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Lia feeling guilty at the thought that, while they were indulging in pastries and warm teas, the woman was cleaning the kitchen. Perhaps it was a cultural legacy of deep-seated respect, rooted in the tradition of servitude where service was considered a quiet honor, but it still didn’t sit too well with neither Lia and Noah. Hana told them, after a few times, there was nothing they could do and they had to accept the way she was, and so they never really said much else, not even when they felt a tinge of guilt.

Noah thanked Emi gently, shaking his head when she made to lift one of their heavy suitcases. There was no way he was going to let that woman carry those heavy bags upstairs. But as expected, Emi insisted, saying something in Japanese and bending down. Noah exchanged a look with Lia, as if asking for a help she couldn’t provide. Emi attempted again to lift one of the bags, her intent clear even without words and ignoring Noah’s hands.

“Can you tell her I’ll take care of it?” Noah asked Hana. “They’re too heavy. She’ll hurt her back. I can manage.”

Hana nodded, understanding, and with a sweet voice but reverence in her tone, indicated to Emi—in Japanese, of course—to leave the task to Noah. Emi listened to Hana with more will than she had listened to Noah, for she nodded in understanding immediately and retreated after offering Noah another nodding and a smile that he tried to weirdly reciprocate.

Lia trailed behind Noah as he took both suitcases upstairs at once, her carrying their backpacks, and once they reached the top of the stairs, she paused in front of the guest room door where she had always stayed.

Noah kept walking towards his room until he noticed Lia standing far from him.

“You don’t think we’re sleeping in separate beds, let alone in separate rooms, do you?”

“No,” she replied, shaking her head, but her voice softened as she glanced toward the stairs. “I just don’t want to be inconsiderate. Maybe we should talk to Grandma about it first.”

After a brief pause, Noah nodded.

“Yeah. Sure. We’ll talk to her.” He extended a hand to her, and he waited until Lia took it to lead her into his room, sliding the doors open.

The room was bigger than the guest room, square in shape, with a big futon laying on a wooden tatami, clean soft bedding drapped over it and an array of pillows. There was a small desk next to the door, facing the bed, and two more sliding doors on one side that led to a cozy balcony overlooking the distant mountains. Noah had never really stopped to appreciate how cozy the room was, but now he imagined how much warmer it would feel, having Lia lying in his bed.

Noah set the suitcases in one side and Lia placed their backpacks on the desk.

After spending a few minutes sorting through her toiletries and hanging up some clothes in the wardrobe, Lia slipped away to the bathroom for a quick break. Just then, a knock on the door startled Noah, causing him to turn around. He found Emi by the threshold, carrying more pillows in her arms and two colorful blankets. A sigh escaped him; he couldn’t find a way to explain they didn’t need so many, and he didn’t want to discharge her and offend her, so he simply stowed the extras in the wardrobe, thanking her.

Lia came back from the bathroom with her hair gathered in a comfy bun, and both headed downstairs.

Grandma was in the kitchen, a space that carried the comforting smell of teas being prepared and food being cooked. Hana was placing an iron kettle on a tray and arranging three delicate porcelain cups beside a plate of traditional sweets when both stepped into the room.

As Hana looked up, her eyes softened, the faint creases at their edges deepening. She paused, noticing the way Noah and Lia lingered at the door as if feeling shy about something.

Before she focused on that, a surge of disbelief spread through her. It was always a little surreal to see them grown up, these two who had shared so much, tethered by a bond she had always sensed. To her, they were still the children who’d once sought refuge in her kitchen after school, where she would braid Lia’s hair and smile at Noah’s pleas to grow his hair long like hers, that little girl with torn clothes and that boy who used to escape the struggles of his family by playing guitar.

“Is everything to your liking?” Hana asked, her gaze soft but searching.

“Yes,” Lia replied quickly. Noah nodded in agreement, but then Lia glanced at him before adding, a hint of hesitation in her voice, “We were wondering if… if Noah and I could… share a room?”

Hana’s attention drifted downward, catching the subtle movement between their bodies. Noah’s fingers reached for Lia’s, and she quietly laced hers with his. Hana’s eyes lingered on their joined hands for a moment, before her lips curved into an understanding smile.

With a quiet satisfaction that neither Noah nor Lia fully comprehended, Hana lifted the tea tray and moved gracefully around the kitchen island, gesturing for them to follow without saying a word. Despite her petite frame, there was an elegance and authority in her movements.

Noah and Lia exchanged a look, then followed her into the tea room.

Hana’s tea room was minimal yet spacious, containing a square wooden table in the center surrounded by floor cushions. A single cabinet along the wall held a modest assortment of teacups and plates and a bouquet of dry flowers that had been there since she moved into the house, crafted by Lia, of course. On the left, the panneled windows made of washi paper let in the soft, diffused light from the garden at the back of the house. The room had always felt like a sacred space.

Noah and Lia sat side by side, waiting in a reverent silence as Hana kneeled down in front of them across the table and poured the tea, the steam unfurling in delicate wisps that mingled with the scent of sencha. Lia wrapped her hands around the warm mug only to be warned by Hana.

“It’s hot, dear. Be careful.”

It was always the same warning, and yet, Lia never seemed to care about it. Hana would always say the same, and Lia would always keep her hands around the mug because instead of burning her hands, the heat brought a sense of grounding to her that spread from her hands to the rest of her body.

Next to her, Noah, normally patient, was growing a bit restless. He was expecting an answer. Yes. No. It had been a simple question, right? Can we share a room? Can Lia sleep in my bed? He just needed a simple “yes” or “no” —a “yes” better than the other option because truth was, he didn’t know what he would do if Hana said he wanted them to keep distance while in the house. But Hana had to be so cryptic. She had to draw things out and keep him on this toes.

As if sensing his thoughts, Hana’s old but wise eyes met his just as she finished pouring herself tea. Her expression was one almost… mischievous. There was softness in it, but she had a knowing smile on her lips that hinted at secrets only she knew.

Just as Noah opened his mouth to speak, she said, “There’s something I want to show you.”

She started to rise, and instinctively, Noah made a move to help, but she waved him off.

“No need, my dear. Just give me a moment.”

She dissappeared down the hall, her footsteps a soft patter that didn’t quite fade entirely as she retrieved what she went looking for in a nearby room. She returned moments later. In her wrinkled hands, she held a small, dark wooden box. She settled back onto the cushions.

“Is that where you’ve been keeping my old baby teeth?” Noah joked, gesturing to the box with a smirk. Beside him, Lia chuckled, but Hana’s silence—her smile still serene—quickly quieted them.

“Not quite,” was her reply.

Hana placed the box on the table, facing her. Her own cup of tea steamed right next to it. She slowly opened it, but the attached lid created a barrier that made it impossible for Lia and Noah to see what was inside. Lia shifted, hands on her knees, lifting herself slightly and stretching her neck to catch a glimpse of whatever that was.

Hana grabbed whatever was inside with such care that Noah and Lia’s curiosity and confusion just increased. A moment later, she placed something in the palm of her other hand and extended it towards them, revealing a piece of red string.

The string lay delicate and faded in Hana’s palm. It was fraying slightly at the edges where time had worn it thin. Once bright red, it had softened to a muted, dusty crimson. Unbeknownst to the young couple in the room, it had stubbornly survived, first wash after wash, and then travel after travel until it was kept safe in the box that now lay on the table.

“What’s that?” Lia asked, her eyes jumping to Hana’s, for she couldn’t make sense of the mystery that a tiny worn string could hold.

She hadn’t noticed Noah going stiff, his eyes frozen over the piece of red laying in Hana’s hand.

“That’s…” Noah began. He blinked, frowning a little as if he was trying to put the pieces together. He extended an arm and as gently as Hana had done, he took the string in his palm. “That’s a lose string from one of Lia’s socks,” he responded, more to himself than to Lia or Hana.

Lia’s confusion only deepened at Noah’s words and at his reaction. He kept staring at the string in his palm as if it was made of gold.

“What?” she uttered before shaking her head. “How could that—? I don’t own red socks.”

“You did,” Noah corrected her as he snapped his head up to look her in the eye, “when you were six.”

Lia wasn’t following. Noah continued.

“It got stuck on the pedal of my bike the first day we met, when I let you ride it. I gave it to Grandma right after I went back home. I thought…” The memories hit him, one after another. He nearly chuckled at his innocence back then. “I thought it needed to be sewn back or something. I got worried you wouldn’t have any more socks or that those would fray.”

Lia’s gaze flickered between the delicate string and the grandmother’s wise, knowing expression. She understood why little Noah, with his big heart and innocent worries, would have been anxious over the lost string. But Grandma? Why had she kept it for so many years? Why had she held on to it so reverently?

Unsure of what to say or feel, Lia found herself at a loss for words. She glanced at Noah, who was just as silent, both of them looking to Grandma.

“Have you heard about the red string of fate?” Hana asked then.

Noah’s brow furrowed, and he nodded slowly. “I think I might’ve heard something about it… Isn’t that Chinese folklore?”

Grandma gave a gentle nod with an understanding smile. “Yes, it is. But that doesn’t mean it applies only to that region.”

Lia held her tea cup close, her fingers tracing the warmth that seeped into her palms. She took a slow sip, her eyes never leaving Grandma’s face as she waited.

“According to the myth,” Grandma continued, “the string of fate is an invisible red thread tied around the fingers of those destined to meet, especially soulmates or true loves. The ones connected by this thread are bound to find each other, no matter the distance, time, or obstacles. Though the cord may stretch or become tangled, it is said to never break, symbolizing a bond that is unbreakable and meant to be.”

“Folklore,” Lia concluded, a tinge of dubiety in her tone.

“Folklore, indeed,” Grandma agreed with a tilt of her head. “Life is not that simple, or beautiful. Some people are meant to be, but they never find their way to each other. However, sometimes they do. Sometimes they find each other at the strangest of times; sometimes when they are old, carrying the weight of their lives with them, and sometimes… when they are merely kids, with everything still ahead of them.”

“This is a broken string, Grandma,” Noah pointed out, extending his open palm as if trying to prove a point.

“And I said the red thread is invisible,” she replied with a soft smile touching her lips. “When you came home with that string in your hand, I kept it in a drawer for days, just because you were so concerned about Lia’s socks. But weeks later, when I found it again, I remembered the old myth, the one that had traveled from family to family, village to village, weaving its way across countries. By then, you and Lia were already inseparable, and I couldn’t help but wonder…” She trailed off, tilting her head as she looked at the thread as though it might reveal a hidden truth, as if it held the memories of years gone by. “I wondered if there was something to it. So, I kept it, out of curiosity. And as I watched you both grow—the more time you spent with each other, the more obvious it became.”

“What was obvious?” Lia asked, quietly.

Hana’s smile deepened.

“That you were soulmates.”

Noah and Lia didn’t say a thing as they absorbed her words in quiet wonder and daze.

“When you moved in with Noah on your eighteenth birthday, I remember Noah calling to let me know that you’d settled in. There was something different in his voice—a blend of joy, contentment, and peace I’d never heard from him before. And then, the day you graduated, the look on his face when you came down the stairs in that beautiful dress, with those shoes you didn’t want to wear… Do you remember that, Lia?”

“I remember,” she replied as the memories flooded back.

She recalled dancing with a classmate whose name had long since slipped her mind. She recalled Jolly telling her he was suspicious that Noah liked a girl. She remembered sneaking vodka shots with her friends in the restroom, and later that night, Noah giving her a piggyback ride to her room. And yes, she remembered the way he looked at her before any of that—a look she had assumed was the fond gaze of a best friend to whom you mean the world. Nothing more.

She turned her head to look at Noah. He was focused on Grandma, though there was a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

“There was something…” Grandma went on. “It was’t just the string. There was something else, a feeling around the two of you, as if the world itself was telling me your place was with each other. When I look back, I’m convinced it all started the moment Noah first saw you, Lia. The thread may have existed long before, but the day your sock got caught on the pedal of his bike… it might have been a sign—a signal from some higher power that didn’t want you straying away from each other. I never wanted to interfere, to disturb the natural flow of things… so I did the only thing I could. I held onto this little piece of rope, believing somehow it would help keep you two together. I was afraid the thread might snap or get lost—that something would come between you and your relationship would strain.” She looked intently at them for a while. “I’ve never seen anything as beautiful and intense as what you two have. I said some people are meant to be but they never find their way to each other,” she looked directly at Noah, “but you, my dear child, you never left her side.” Not even when the thread threatened to break, when there were circumstances that hinted at a separation such as when Lia moved on her own, or when other people came between them—every one night stand, every girlfriend and boyfriend, Mitch, the night they slept together when alcohol was running through their veins.

Be that as it may, Noah had always remained close to her. She had, too, in her own way and despite trying to push him away.

“So,” Noah ventured, “you’re saying that we’ve always been meant to be together?”

“Yes. Lia has always been meant for you, and you for her. That’s what I believe, even if it sounds unreasonable, fantastical—you have every right to feel that way,” her voice flattered as her gaze drifted to a spot on the floor, unfocused. Lost in thought, her expression softened, and tears welled in her eyes. “But you’re here now. You’ve come back to me, together,” she continued, a smile breaking through the weight of years past, “after everything you’ve been through, all the struggles my children have faced so far away from me… I can only imagine how difficult it’s been, and I’m so sorry I couldn’t do anything for you. But now, you’re finally here, as you were always meant to be.”

Seeing Grandma’s silent tears trail down her cheeks was almost too much for them to bear. Even with the joy in this moment, the pain she’d carried across the years was evident, stretching from L.A. to this quiet town in Japan. She had watched, powerless, from afar as Noah and Lia overcame struggle after struggle—every little and not so little thing that threated to keep them apart. She’d been alone, helpless against the silent ache that crossed oceans—the butterfly effect.

Lia resisted the impulse to react to Hana’s tears, instead setting her cup of tea down quietly on the table. Without a word, she reached over and took the string from Noah’s hands, holding it with a calm resolve.

The moment the fabric touched her skin, she was pulled back to that morning, twenty-one years ago.

She remembered waking up alone in a crumbling house, piecing together a small breakfast from what she could find in the kitchen. She’d dressed in clothes that had piled up at the foot of her bed, unsure of how to wash them or make the machine downstairs work. Hoping to give them a different smell, she’d played in the garden among the flowers until her clothes smelled of lavender and thyme. Inside, she’d lost herself in her sketching and coloring, hours slipping by in a quiet solitude she barely noticed anymore. When hunger crept in, she’d scavenged an apple from the fridge, slicing away the bruised parts and eating what was left. Eventually, she’d perched by the window, watching the world pass outside, dogs barking in the distance, occasional cars rumbling by. Finally, she climbed the stairs back to her room to put on some red socks and boots. She’d opened the house door, stepped outside, and settled herself on the concrete. A while later, Noah had appeared.

And in that moment, her life changed.

Noah saved her.

With the back of her hand, Lia wiped a stray tear as she blinked. She rubbed the string between her fingers, its fibers stiff but delicate, like a fragile relic of the past that carried the memory of those early days—painful and sweet at the same time.

Both Hana and Noah waited for her to speak. It took a moment, but finally, she opened her mouth, her voice quivering as she looked at Hana, eyes glassy.

“Can I keep it?”

Noah half-expected Hana to hesitate. After guarding this small piece of their past—of their beginning— for so many years, he thought she might be reluctant to let go, fearing that releasing it might somehow weaken the bond between them. But Hana’s response was instant. Her smile brightened as she nodded.

“You can keep it, darling.”

Maybe, Noah thought, seeing them together after all these years had finally soothed Hana’s fears, rather than fueling them. He was still taking it all in, not so much the fact that she’d kept this string for over two decades, but the meaning behind it.

But it made sense.

Every little thing made sense.

And if he was honest, it was exactly how he wanted it.

He’d wanted Lia since that Saturday morning when she was six and he was seven, in one way or another.

He watched her fingers play with the red string, as if she were trying to understand if it was just a scrap of her old sock or a sign of something greater. It might have been nothing more than a forgotten string. Or perhaps it was indeed the physical proof of a bond that had been with them since childhood.

His tea sat untouched, forgotten as he focused solely on Lia, watching the worry etched into her expression. He couldn’t look away. He whispered her name, hoping to see if she was all right or if all of this was becoming too much. Her big brown eyes met his, unguarded and glassy with emotion. She didn’t smile, didn’t speak, just looked at him, and then, her concern shifted toward him. Just as he was about to tell her he was fine, she turned to Hana.

“What happened to Noah?” Lia’s voice was steady but edged with urgency. “The coughing. The fever. All those flowers.”

Hana’s gaze softened, though her expression remained unreadable.

“We can talk about it tomorrow,” she replied, sensing Lia’s growing distress.

But Lia shook her head. “No. Now. We need to know.”

Hana hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“Lia, my darling,” she began gently, “you just got here. Maybe one story is enough for today.”

“We’re fine,” Noah interjected, his tone resolute. He rested a hand on Lia’s knee, squeezing it lightly. “We’ve been waiting months for this, Grandma. We need to know. Please.”

For a moment, Hana’s shoulders slumped as though she were carrying the weight of something long-buried. She took a slow breath, then nodded, her gaze drifting somewhere beyond the walls of the room, as if she were looking back into a distant memory.

“When you were little, Noah,” she began, “I used to tell you folklore stories… so many you probably couldn’t keep track of them all.” She offered a bittersweet smile, her voice tinged with nostalgia. “Do you remember any those?”

“Some. You even got me a compillation book one Christmas.”

Hana nodded. “Yes, I did. And you’d beg me to read them, even when you should’ve been fast asleep.” She paused, eyes unfocused as if seeing the past replay in her mind. “There was one story—the tale of a boy and a girl. This girl loved the boy, loved him so much that it seemed to consume her. But the boy…” Her voice trailed off. “He didn’t feel the same way. It was a one-sided love, and because of that… she fell ill.”

Lia’s brow furrowed. “Ill?”

“Yes. In our culture, we call it Hanahaki disease. It begins with a feeling, a weight in the chest, but then it grows. Flowers begin to bloom inside you, filling your lungs with every unreturned feeling. And the more the love festers, the worse it gets.”

Noah frowned, his mind racing. The name felt vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t recall ever hearing the full story.

“That’s not exactly what happened to me,” Noah intervened, lowering his voice. “I got sick every time Lia was physically away. But got better when she was around. And then one day, all of a sudden, the entire thing disappeared. On top of that, it was never a non-reciprocal feeling, so it cannot be the reason why I was coughing up flowers.”

“Not everything happens as its written in the books, my dear. As for the cough stopping one day and never coming back, maybe Lia can tell you more about that.”

Noah turned to Lia, surprised to see something in her expression he hadn’t expected—a trace of guilt, a hint of something she’d held back. She had listened intently, but now it was as if Hana’s words had pulled a thread that led to a long-kept secret. Her gaze met his, a small crease forming between her brows, her face shadowed by a reluctant admission.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Hana said, her voice gentle but decisive.

Both Noah and Lia looked up, startled.

“But we just sat down,” Lia protested. “The tea…”

“Don’t worry about the tea,” Hana replied, already rising with her cup in hand. She smiled warmly at them both before turning, and with a gentle slide of the door, left them in the quiet intimacy of the tearoom.

Noah turned back to Lia with a deeper frown, a look of weariness in his eyes that said he was done with so much overwhelming. There were still questions in the air and he wanted answer for all of them. Now.

“What was that about?” he asked, his voice edged with frustration.

Lia took a steadying breath, sipped her tea, and set the cup down beside the string as she searched for the right words.

“I think she’s right,” she started. “I know I brushed off all those times you mentioned Grandma’s theories—that being close to you somehow made you feel better. But after hearing about this string, that story, how long she’s held onto it… maybe there really are things beyond what we can explain and understand. Maybe this strange flower-coughing disease is one of them.”

“I’m with you on that,” Noah replied, his gaze holding hers. “But it wasn’t one-sided when I fell head over heels for you, Lia.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she said, meeting his eyes. “But it took me months to realize it myself and then, accept it.”

Noah’s eyes—and mind—were clouded with confusion. Sensing his need for clarity, Lia took a deep breath and tried to lay it all out, piece by piece.

She’d been in love with him for longer she could admit. Deep inside, her heart had always belonged to him, but over and over, she had refused to believe it, to accept such a thing. She couldn’t jeopardize this near-perfect friendship they shared—that meant everything to her. And they had made a promise. So, she buried those feelings, ignored her heart, told herself over and over that whatever she felt was just a passing infatuation and that it would go away in time. She lied to herself because she hadn’t been willing to admit to herself, let alone to Noah, that she was in love with him.

In the end, it was her denial that made him sick. It wasn’t that his love for her wasn’t reciprocated; it was that she couldn’t bring herself to believe in her own love for him as more than just a friend. Yet, despite her efforts to bury it, her love always found a way to surface—whenever she made him laugh, whenever she comforted him, whenever she showed up at his door just to be with him. Somehow, Noah’s heart had always known that hers belonged to him, and that was why, whenever she pulled away or tried to distance herself, his sickness would worsen.

Only after countless hours spent in therapy did Lia finally begin to admit the truth that her own heart, her own body, had been trying to show her all along. She remembered that session vividly:

“No.”

“Lia—” Dr. Reynolds insisted.

“That’s not how it is,” she assured nearly through gritted teeth. Her voice was tight with resistance.

“It is, and you know it. You’ve known it for a long time, but you refuse to accept it. For me to help you, you must acknowledge it. You have to say it out loud and accept it. I know you’re scared, but you have to admit what you feel.”

Lia felt the words crawling up her throat, her heart racing, her palms damp as she gripped the arms of the chair. Her breathing grew shallow, and she looked at the doctor with wide, glassy eyes, the truth trembling on her lips.

“Lia,” Dr. Reynolds pressed, “you are in love with your best friend, Noah. Say it.”

Her heartbeat was rapid and erratic, each beat hammering against her ribcage. She was terrified—terrified of what admitting it would mean, what it would change. But perhaps the only way to stop the ache was to finally speak the words aloud.

“I’m…” Her voice wavered, barely above a whisper. She took a shaky breath, her nails digging into the armrests of the chair as she steadied herself. “I’m in love with Noah.”

Back in the tearoom, Lia took a deep breath, her gaze landing on the steaming cup of tea. Noah's hand was no longer on her knee, and she missed the warmth it’d provided.

“The day after meeting her,” Lia continued, “Jesse called me. He said you were worried something had happened to me.”

“That was the day the coughing stopped,” Noah acknowledged. “The day before had been Hell. I’d been so fucking sick, and then… from night to morning, I woke up and felt fine.”

“It was because I admitted to myself what I’d been refusing for so long—that I loved you. You were sick all those times because of me.”

Noah hesitated, his lips parting slightly as he processed the rising panic in Lia’s voice. He shifted to face her, still seated in a lotus position on the cushions

“That’s—” After a moment’s deliberation, he shook his head and squared his shoulders, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on them. They could continue down this path, but it would only lead them to the painful memories of the past, and that was no longer what mattered. “It doesn’t matter now. That’s all in the past, Lia,” he concluded, his voice steady yet tender. They had endured so much together. Neither had been at their best; they had made mistakes and harbored regrets. How could they have paid heed to some whimsical folklore tale—much less the reality of it manifesting in their lives? Considering everything, there was no sense in revisiting those moments or blaming each other for every obstacle they had placed in one another’s way. “We got the answers we wanted, and what matters is that we’re here, and we’re real, right now.”

Lia blinked back tears, but a few slipped free despite her efforts. She brushed them away. When another tear fell, Noah reached over and caught it with his thumb. Before she could think, she climbed onto his lap, wrapping her arms around him, clutching him tightly. He quickly wrapped her in his arms and held her close, resting his cheek against her hair, and she felt his steady breath as he nuzzled into her neck. The weight of her in his lap felt so nice and natural, and the way his arms encircled her made her feel safe, almost fragile but in a good way, because she knew she was out of danger with him. Would always be.

“I’m so scared of losing you one day,” she whispered, her words barely audible against his ear.

Noah pulled back just enough to look at her. Glancing at the small, coiled red string on the table beside them, he reached for it and held out his hand to Lia.

“Give me your pinky finger,” he ordered.

She looked at him questioningly but placed her hand in his. He laid his own pinky alongside hers and began to wind the red string around them.

“Help me with this?” he asked, giving her a soft smile.

She did. When they finished the knot, their pinkies were tied together with the thin red thread. He tugged gently to make sure it held, then grinned.

“Now we’re really tied together. See? Problem solved.”

Lia’s laugh came out, light and clear, the tension in her shoulders easing as she looked down at their fingers entwined by the string. The sound was so full of life, of relief, that Noah couldn’t stop the warmth spreading through his chest. He lifted his hand to her face, cupping her chin with two fingers, and leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips, savoring the way her smile lingered against his own.

When he finally pulled back, he whispered,

“I told you. You’ve always been mine, Lia.”

— prev. chapter | chapter twelve

Author's note: 100 points for those who guessed it was the red string 🤭 You can reread about that moment in Chapter 1 of Ikigai (literally the beginning of the story). It's no more than a couple of paragraphs, if I don't recall wrong, right at the end, but it was a very important detail for the future. Thank you once again for reading and being with me in this journey :)

*I've done some changes to the original folklore stories mentioned in this chapter to adapt it to Noah and Lia's romance story. I hope everything was more or less clear regarding all those weird things happening in Koi No Yokan. I never had this story planned in detail before I started writing, so it got tricky at some points, but I think I managed to make everything fit reasonably within its flow.

🔖 Taglist:

@somebodyels3 | @respectfulrebel | @thecoyotescry | @bluestdai | @lma1986

@sweetwombatpizza | @missduffsblog | @shilohrosechicken | @jilliemiw86 | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

@chey-h | @ferduttini | @dominuslunae

#noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x ofc #the inevitability of love at second sight #noah x lia #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian

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uriekukistan · 30 days ago

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the angst gremlin in my brain tells me this is not the best chapter but the plot called for a chill moment so i had to deliver. dw, everything will fall apart again soon enough :D

The calm before the storm...

Warnings: heavy drinking, smoking, slightly suggestive, megumi's got some real issues ngl....

“Who was the boy who dropped you off last night?” Gojo asked, trying and failing to sound casual. Megumi shouldn’t have been surprised. Gojo was observant like that. That didn’t stop him from shooting the older man a piercing and suspicious glare. “What?” Gojo said innocently. “I heard you two talking outside. You know I have keen senses.” Megumi forced his face into a disinterested expression. It was impossible to get anything past Gojo. He should have known this by now. “He’s no one,” he answered. “Just some guy I know.” “Y’know,” Gojo replied, “when I was your age, I moved in and adopted kids with someone who I told my parents was just some guy I knew.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #itafushi #fushiita #meguyuuji #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro tsumiki #gojo satoru #geto suguru #itadori yuuji #yuji itadori

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hypnos333 · 11 months ago

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Koi no yokan

Kim Seungmin x reader

Synopsis: Knowing you’re going to fall for him eventually.

Koi no yokan doesn’t mean love in first sight, it’s closer to love at second sight, it’s the feeling when you meet someone that you’re going to fall in love with them. Maybe you won’t love them right away, but it’s inevitable that you will.

In your case the second you met Seungmin, you had this strange feeling you never felt before but you thought nothing of it.

You both first met in your favorite cafe, after you ordered your regular order before accidentally sitting across someone at their table. When you noticed them you instantly apologized.

He was a handsome guy, who was just stairing at you with a cup of coffee and a red velvet cake beside it.

“I’m so sorry,Sir I wasn’t paying attention and-“You can sit here” he interrupted you with a smile. You let go of your apple pie with ice cream leaving it where it was with your hot cocoa.

“What’s your name?” He asked you liking how clueless you are when you still haven’t noticed who he was.

“My name is ___, What’s yours?” You asked back making him tilt his head adorably.

“My name is Seungmin” He answered as he watched you take a bite on the pie and you seemed to noticed his glaze because you took a fork full of pie and held it to his mouth.

“This is my favorite thing to get from the Cafe, they have the best apple pie” You stated proudly making him take a bite without hesitation. For some reason he trusted you and would take your word for everything without hesitation.

He slowly chew on the apple pie before his eyes went wide with how right you were. “T-This is so good” He said craving more.

“See I told you! Try it with the ice cream it tastes even more better” You said giving him a second fork filled but this time with vanilla ice cream on it. He gladly let you feed him the pie smiling in enjoyment.

You ate the rest of the pie feeding him most of it at the end, and then Seungmin remembered he still had his red velvet cake and you were packing up to leave.

So Seungmin secretly packed the cake and wrote a little letter as you left to the bathroom and put it in your bag when you left it with him. “I’m so sorry Seungmin but I have to attend a meeting, goodbye” You said rushing for your bag and leaving him before he could say goodbye.

As you made it in your car you forgot to ask for his number, you weren’t in love but it was a different feeling. You looked in your bag for your phone until you saw a red velvet cake and a fork in a clear container with a hand written note.

I had a good time with you maybe we can hang out again and show me different foods or desserts - Seungmin

You smiled hoping you’ll see him again before pulling out the parking lot to head to that meeting.

A week pass by and your back to your favorite cafe, you been thinking about Seungmin 24/7 and you miss his smile and clueless look.

You were an absolute foodie and this time you ordered a brownie sundae. You sit at a table waiting for the waitress to bring your order till a guy sat across of you making you confuse before realizing it’s Seungmin.

You squeal in excitement before rushing over to him and hugged him. “Well someone missed me” He said jokingly.

“I did miss you” You said with no hesitation making him blush. “I missed you too Love bug” He said back.

You pulled away slightly where he can see your face “Love bug?” you asked dumb founded making him laugh.

“What? it’s cute” he whined making you roll your eyes playfully before going back to your seat. The same time the waitress came with your order, you thanked her noticing she been staring at Seungmin in shocked before she rushed away.

“What are we trying now love bug?” He asked excitedly just wanting to enjoy his time with you quickly.

You scooped a spoon full of ice cream before putting it in his mouth as he opened it slightly for you to feed him. “It’s a brownie sundae, it’s another thing I love here” You said as he swallowed the frozen treat.

“Mmm” he said enjoying the flavor.

With this Seungmin felt human around like he was a normal, regular person and he loved it. You just saw him a normal citizen instead of a famous k-pop singer.

You were falling for him and he was falling harder for you. Koi no yokan was a thing between them where they just fell in love after time.

#kim seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #stray kids x reader #koi no yokan

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bevswashere · 4 months ago

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Koi No Yokan

Juju Stroll: The Call

Satoru arrives late in the evening, once again dissatisfied with the overly tidy appearance of his “home.” There’s nothing out of place, no clothes strewn about, or crooked photos to line the wall. A shell, husk, for him to exist in before leaving for the outside world again. His room at Tokyo High never looked like this. It was warm and lived in, most especially after Kaede began to stay—but it’s best not to think about Kaede at all when he’s alone like this.

His phone ringing in his pocket pulls him from his thoughts, an unknown number. Ignore. Missions will come from the same few numbers they always do, probably spam or some distant relative trying to bug him for money.

Satoru lets himself fall into his couch, expensive sure, but not used often enough for the cushions to sink. He thinks to watch a movie, maybe take a nap, something to let the hours go by until he’s needed again, but he does exactly what he’d told himself not to. “I wonder what she’s doing right now.” “Graduation just happened, didn’t it?” “Should I call to congratulate her? Text?”

The phone rings again, the same unknown number. He lets it pass. “I wonder if she’s going to pay for hire.” “It doesn’t seem very like her.” The same number tries to call again. “Leave a message if it’s that important,” Satoru groans, letting his head fall back against the couch, neck craned up towards the ceiling. “Maybe I could bother Nanami to find out how she’s doing.” The phone rings once again, and this time Satoru, patience lost, answers, “Hey! Stop calling me, you have the wrong—”

“I assume you already know where our main facility is.” Satoru turns to stone in his seat. How long had it been since he’d heard that voice? “She’s waiting for you at the front doors.” The call ends before he can get a word in, before Satoru can get past his heart beating out of his chest.

Satoru throws his head forward into his palms, tugging at the roots of his hair. “Idiot,” he scolds himself. He’d given up the world in an effort to break the ties these people held to him, the restraints that kept him from truly being the strongest. And yet, every time they step back into his life, he finds himself exactly where they had left him. Even during the get-together a couple weeks ago, “Why did I run to check up on her?” “Why did I pay attention to nothing other than her movements, her voice?”

“Why am I so weak?”

#geto suguru #gojo satoru #gojo x oc #kento nanami #koi no yokan #uematsu kaede #jujutsu kaisen #shoko ieiri #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk satoru #jjk gojo #gojo fanfic #satoru gojo #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #fanfic #jujutsu gojo #original character

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nowoyas · 3 months ago

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Koi no Yokan 7: it's good to have a project (Nishinoya Yuu/Reader)

First - Prev - Next - M.list - Ao3

Summary: Karasuno High School hands back final exam results.

Warnings: blanket series warnings

Words: ~2700

It's a bit of a good news-bad news sandwich on test result day. Two rows ahead of you, you watch Yachi physically vibrate in her chair. It takes until she gets her exam back and she neither despairs nor sighs in visible relief that you connect that she's not worried about her own results.

Good news: you passed all your exams well enough. Your scores are more than comfortably high, not exactly topping the class but not embarrassing if someone were to catch sight of your paper. You've even got a few points over Yachi when you compare scores, a fact which makes you swell just a touch with pride.

That was the first set of good news.

The bad news comes when classes let out. You follow the dark aura and scent of despair out of the classroom with Yachi, and the source of her anxiety makes itself known: Tsukishima is openly laughing at Hinata and Kageyama while Yamaguchi is silently disappointed beside him. Hinata looks dead. Kageyama looks as grumpy as usual, if not a bit more so.

At the sight of both of you, Hinata visibly flinches. "Yachi-san… [surname]-san… How'd you do?"

"Fine," you shrug. "What's the damage?"

"One failed exam each," Yamaguchi says. "Hinata failed English, Kageyama Modern Lit."

"What!?" Yachi goes pale. "B-but—but we worked so hard on English! You were so confident!"

He refuses to meet her eyes. "I… I pleaded my case with Ono-sensei, but… I accidentally filled in the answers off by one and didn't realize until it was too late to fix it…"

"Oh, no. Let me see."

She looks over the test paper, looking closer to tears by the second. "But… Hinata… they're all correct… They would've been right…"

"I'm so sorry, Yachi-san… all your hard work went to waste…"

Tsukishima just laughs. "Looks like the king and the shrimp won't be coming with us to Tokyo after all. How sad."

"D-don't make fun of them!" Yachi cries. "They worked so hard for this!"

You nod to Kageyama. "Show me?"

As the others bicker, you look over Kageyama's paper. "So, what, you spent all your time focusing on the stuff you were already sort of good at and didn't spend any time on the other areas you'd be tested on?"

You don't get a response. When you look up, mysteriously both Hinata and Kageyama have disappeared.

A long sigh. "Which way did they go?"

Yamaguchi points down the hall. "I think they were headed towards the faculty floor."

"Got it. Hold this." You pass off Kageyama's test paper and march after them.

You find them—where else?—harassing the vice principal.¹⁴ Without a second thought, you've grabbed both by the necks of their uniforms and roughly pulled them back. "You're both acting stupid. Stop that."

"B-but [surname]-san—if he doesn't take it off—"

The VP looks increasingly distressed by the second. You shove your way between the two boys, press a hand firmly to each mouth. "I am so sorry, Sensei. They're a little stupid, but I promise they're good people. Just, uh, a bit panicking right now. I think they're asking if you'll make an exception for them for when they have to take their make-up exams so it doesn't conflict with club activities."

He clears his throat, adjusts his toupee. You pointedly avoid looking at it. "There will be no exceptions. What club is this that they're so worked up about? Volleyball?"

You bow your head. "Yes, sir. I understand. It's a shame, but—"

Kageyama struggles under your hand, whatever protest he has muffled. You smile at him coldly, pressing your hand against his mouth harder.

"—as I was saying, it's a shame, but we're just going to have to work hard together so you two do well on your makeup exams, right?"

The two nod reluctantly.

"I'm so sorry for the trouble, Sensei. It won't happen again. Are you two going to behave if I take my hands off your mouths?"

Two more reluctant nods. You remove your hands from their mouths, but keep them resting on their shoulders. "Now apologize for troubling him."

"We're sorry…"

You bow to him, drag the two off before they can protest or bother him any more than they already have. By the time you get them back to where you'd all been before they ran off, the other three haven't dispersed. Yachi is still despairing; Yamaguchi is looking over Kageyama's exam. Tsukishima apparently just doesn't have anywhere better to be.

"Why do they look like you just ripped them a new one?"

"I found them harassing the vice principal," you say.

"If he won't rescind it, then…"

You bap the back of his head. "Whatever's going on in your head, quit it. Use that energy to figure out how you're going to pass the retakes. Okay?"

"Right…"

"For now, pretty sure all of us need to get going. Practice and all that. And…" Fuck. Practice, where you'll hear from Tanaka and Nishinoya about their exam scores. You can't take any more bad news today. "…once we know the extent of the damage, we'll come up with a game plan after practice."

You step into the gym with a heavy heart. Hinata and Kageyama gave their news, sure, but you're genuinely sort of afraid for the news from Tanaka and Nishinoya.

No. They'll be fine. I mean, they were working so hard, and—

Still. Hinata and Kageyama worked hard. So—

The third step into the gym sees your breath leaving your lungs and your feet leaving the floor, a full tackle that you were neither expecting nor prepared for.

"[name]-san! I passed!"

The world spins around you—you yelp as you're fully spun and set back down, bracing yourself against an exuberant Noya. "Hello to you too—you what?"

"I passed!"

You blink, the realization taking a moment to sink in. Then, you're flinging your arms around his shoulders with a squeal, hugging him tight. "You passed! That's amazing! I told you you were gonna be fine!"

The noise that comes out of his mouth is stammery and stilted, and you pull away. "Uh, Senpai? You good?"

Ah. A forbidden red stains his cheeks as he collects himself. "Uh, yeah! Yeah, no, I—I'm good, uh—"

You arch a brow. "You're being weird."

"Not weird! Just—you know. Marry me."

You stifle a laugh, put a step or two of distance between you. "Keep working hard, ask another nine hundred and seventy-three times, and sure. I'll think about it."

The other bit of good news is that Tanaka also passed his exams. That leaves you with just Hinata and Kageyama to drill for the next week. As the other first years talk in Sakanoshita, you lock in, dutifully copying their exams by hand. Noya's here, too, as is Ennoshita—every now and then, someone tries to pull you into the conversation, but you're busy and they're just going to have to get that.

Yachi is in the middle of some heartfelt speech about how this must be the reason she's in the advanced courses and of course she'll help when you rip a page out of your notebook. She startles—quite comically—and you sort of feel bad for interrupting her as you hand a paper over to Hinata.

"Here."

"Here…?" He looks it over slowly.

You're already scribbling the same thing for Kageyama on the next page. "It's a list of focus points for studying and a suggested amount of time to spend studying on each topic. I based it on the composition of the original exam and what you got actually wrong, after re-grading your exam based on you marking answers correctly. Study lengths are based on a rough idea of how much free study time you actually have between now and the make-up exam, assuming a decent sleep schedule and going to bed early the night before your retake. Also, assuming you actually take regular breaks and only get sidetracked once or twice. If you have any questions you've got my number also. I can make some practice exams for you guys, but I need more time for that."

"[surname]-san…"

"Kageyama-san, if you'll hold for a little, I'm making up a list for you, too. They're personalized so I can't just give you both the same list. Also, you know, different subjects."

"This is amazing," Hinata breathes. "You did all that that fast?"

A shrug. "I was working through them in my head a little during practice, since I got to see your tests right after class let out."

"I'm not quite as good at studying, but I can help out, too," Yamaguchi offers.

"R-right, yeah, we'll all help out!" Yachi says. "I want to go to Tokyo with everyone, so, I mean, if [surname]-chan needs any support—"

"I'm not, like, supplanting you," you say mildly, not looking up from Kageyama's list. "Just giving direction. It'd actually be useful to have multiple of us working on helping out. I can't host for studying or anything, and these two tend to get distracted with proximity and are working on different subjects, so it's better that we split them up anyways."

"Oh, that makes sense! Then…"

"Who do we actually have to help?"

You glance up. Yamaguchi, Noya, Ennoshita, and Yachi are on board to help out. "Cool. We'll split up, then. Yachi-san, you're good with English. You take Hinata?"

She nods.

"Great. I'll handle Kageyama-san. As for the rest of you—"

"I'll help with Kageyama!" Noya interrupts, speaking quickly.

You roll your eyes. "Yeah, you would say that. You did do a good job with Modern Lit when you were focusing on it, anyway, though I think you're probably better at language learning in the long run."

Yamaguchi raises a reluctant hand. "Um, I could probably… help Hinata?"

Ennoshita glances between you and Noya, looking tired. "Are you able to handle Nishinoya?"

You scoff. "He's hardly an issue."

"Guys, I think that means she—"

"If he gets in the way, I'll go for the gut," you finish.

Noya freezes, looking at you like he's experiencing just the slightest twinge of fear. You smile sweetly, turn your attention back to the others. "In any case, if your only worry is whether I can corral this one and tutor Kageyama while actually being useful, go ahead and help out Hinata."

"Alright then. I'll help with Hinata."

So it becomes this again: you, getting rid of your time by tutoring another easily-frustrated volleyball guy. Noya makes it fun, you keep it on track, and you walk away from Sakanoshita that night with the promise given that you'll have practice exams ready for them as soon as possible.

"You can, like, sleep at some point, you know?" Ennoshita comments as you begin the slow walk home.

"Huh? I'm sleeping fine."

"You're just taking on a lot, aren't you?"

You shrug. "It's fine. I don't sleep a lot anyway."

And you don't: you're going to be up, sitting with your bedroom door cracked and the light off, listening out until you hear your dad's keys in the door, heart not slowing enough to sleep until you know he's home. You've got plenty of time between dinner and then, and it's more than enough to dig up a few practice exams and cobble them together into something closer to what the boys need.

It's better than your normal night. Better than cooking and cleaning until the house sparkles, better than studying until you give yourself a headache, better than moving to set down your pencil and remembering no words, just the disappointment that came with a bad report card, just the tragedy that followed.

Keep your grades up, keep him alive, keep vigilant.

And now: keep being useful for the team.

So you keep working hard. You earn another joking marriage proposal tying your shoes, still more at random, and get detailed reports from the others on how Hinata's doing and what areas it would be good to test him on. You lock in hard, determined to prove… something. That you're just as good as Miss Professional Posters, maybe. But the less-than-two weeks you get to get these boys ready for their retakes is used well enough. Lunch on the roof when the weather's good, Noya being serious in his aid as the two of you lean over Kageyama and his notes and help him out. Noya takes him before practice in the club room—a realm you are not to enter—and afterwards, you pile into Sakanoshita with the blessing of the coach and continue drilling him.

Each night, more work. You get Yachi's number, talk on the phone with her over dinner or scrubbing a bathtub or making sure your father's futon is clean about how Hinata's doing, and for a week and a half, you don't have time to think and life is easy. Your birthday comes and goes, you selfishly request another Soba picture from Noya as your one and only birthday present and don't mention why.¹⁵

So you're actually a little sad when the day comes to leave for the Tokyo camp. For a week and a half, you had a project. You leave a reminder note in the genkan, right next to where your father usually puts down his keys: leaving for Tokyo tonight. Be back the day after tomorrow.

You don't expect him to notice.

Kageyama and Hinata show up to the departure. It's five in the morning, and they're here. Their exams are in four hours, and they're here to watch the rest of you leave for Tokyo.

"So what part of 'get good sleep the night before' means 'be here at five AM' to you two?" you ask, rubbing sleep from the corner of your eye. "Just for future reference so I can avoid it."

"W-we're going to study before the exam!" Hinata protests.

You sigh. "I can't fault you for enthusiasm, I guess. But the sleep advice was for a reason. You two went to bed early last night?"

Two determined nods. "Of course!"

"Good. You've both been working hard, so mark your papers carefully and don't rush, alright? You have enough time, and rushing is just going to screw you up."

"Right."

"You hear that, Hinata—"

"Kageyama-san," you interrupt sharply. "No fighting before six AM. You boys ate breakfast?"

Half a second's guilt has your hand plunging into your bag. "Ridiculous, both of you. Here."

"You're like, really responsible," Hinata comments as you thrust two protein bars at them. "Are you really the same age as us?"

"Not unless we share a birthday, I'm not," you reply.

They each take a protein bar, nodding their thanks.

"We'll see you later today. Make it count."

You climb onto the bus, sit away from Shimizu and Yachi in the single seat across the aisle, and pull out a book.

There's no way in hell you sleep on the way.

Footnotes

14. OVA content, baby! They're technically non-canon but they're fun so I'm keeping what I like and scrapping the rest.

15. I waffled on this one for a bit but for later plot purposes I did actually need to establish this reader's birthday. Officially, it's July 7th. I did like, a whole birth chart and shit for this reader that I immediately lost and then made different decisions about her personality as a reader, but what I do know for sure is that I did all that work to come up with the ideal date (shit like wanting her to have a doubled birthday like Noya's on 10/10 and her needing to be a certain age by certain plot points) and then looked at the date on my monitor and it was, in fact, 7/7. In a sense it's sort of neat that the reader's birthday was also the day I did a lot of the work making her into a real character.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory

#my fics #nishinoya yuu/reader #noya/reader #yuu nishinoya/reader #nishinoya yuu x reader #noya x reader #yuu nishinoya x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu/reader #haikyuu reader insert

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thegigilwriter · 7 months ago

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01 | “Danger & Star, Rooster & Angel” — Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Mitchell OC

Summary: 26-year-old Lucy Asa Mitchell did not know what was in store for her when she first bumped into Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw. After an instant mutual connection followed by a sweet whirlwind romance that swept both their feet, Lucy found herself being immersed deeper into Bradley’s world of the Navy, F-14s, and deployments. What she didn’t expect was finding was the answer to an elusive part of her past — the identity of her long-lost father.

Masterlist

Keywords/Warnings: Romance, Inaccuracies of the Navy and Marine Biology

01 | Koi No Yokan 🎐

1 year after Top Gun: Maverick

Sunday May 28, 2023

Bradley

It was a sunny mid-morning in San Diego, and Bradley Bradshaw and Natasha Trace were taking the Bronco for a drive down a palm-adorned boulevard.

“Thanks again Rooster,ˮ Nat grinned as she basked in the daylight of the open air. “SʼAlways nice takinʼ a ride in the olʼ girl.ˮ

“Quiet now,ˮ Bradley replied, mocking hurt. “Sheʼll hear you, you know?ˮ

Nat rolled her eyes playfully, untucking her shades from the hem of her tank top and covering her eyes. Seagulls flew overhead, the taste of salt was in the atmosphere, and a lovely shade of blue began to appear on their horizon. Bradley licked his lips and stepped on the accelerator. He reminisced to himself about the beaches in Okinawa from his previous deployment. Sure, they were great but there is something about the California coastline you canʼt just feel the same way about anywhere else.

“You arrived at your destination,ˮ Google announced. “The Umi Research Center. ˮ A crystal dome came into view and steadily emerged as this enormous limestone edifice that was akin to the Parthenon.

Bradley pulled up by the docks and Nat jumped out as soon as the Bronco was in park.

“Wanna come with?ˮ She asked him.

“Iʼll stay put,ˮ Bradley reclined his seat. “Unless this Sam guy, needs to be forcibly removed from the premises?ˮ

“Well in that case, I can handle it myself, canʼt I?ˮ

Bradley turned on the radio and tugged at his Hawaiin-print shirt to fan himself. He watched as Natʼs figure disappeared into the entrance of the building. His attention was then directed towards the sea and the pristine boats that thudded against the docks. Natʼs own sedan was in the shop, so she called in a favor from Bradley to borrow his Bronco. Since there was no way her wheel was to be steered by any other set of hands other than his, Bradley opted to be a personal chauffeur to Nat and her first cousin, Sam, for the day.

The heat of the sun was beginning to wear down Bradley, so he took his keys from the ignition and hopped out for a quick walk on the dock. The cool sea breeze helped soothe the sunʼs scalding presence. It was on days like this when his parents used to take him to the beach as a little boy. But thatʼs all what those moments are now—memories. He stopped to stare at the water. A lot of people like to say he looked a lot like his father, and he agrees. But on some days, it feels like the man staring right back at him was a stranger.

Thud.

Bradley felt something collide against his back, and heard a clatter of things falling against the wooden walkway and a small gasp. He quickly turned around and beheld two boxes filled with audio tapes and folders tipped on their sides, and beside them, a young woman rose to her feet.

“I apologize,ˮ she breathed out as her frame got on her knees and began to return the contents to her boxes. “Iʼm afraid I wasnʼt watching where I was going...ˮ

She was wearing a navy-colored bathing suit underneath a white, fitted, cropped tee-shirt, and a sheer floral shawl tied around her waist. Her feet were clad in copper-colored slippers, her wrists were adorned with braided bracelets, her right ankle with a dainty metal chain, and her neck with a cross underneath a string of little, iridescent pearls. Bradley did not even realize he was on his knees with a tape in his hand, for his eyes simply could not part from her face. Mahogany waves framed her lovely visage and her dark-caramel eyes were cast to the floor beneath them.

“Um... do you mind?ˮ She smiled kindly at him.

“Huh?ˮ

“The tape — in your hand,ˮ she pointed.

“Oh — uh... Sorry,ˮ Bradley scratched the nape of his neck as he reached the tape over to her. Their fingers met and so did their gazes. Bradley chuckled and she shyly looked away.

“Again,ˮ she spoke, as she put one box on top of the other. “I apologize.ˮ

“None needed,ˮ Bradley finally collected himself. “Those look quite heavy, need a hand?ˮ

“If you donʼt mind, please.ˮ She sighed. Bradley eagerly lifted the boxes in his arms.

“Lead the way,ˮ he grinned.

“Thank you,ˮ she replied as they proceeded to cross the dock towards the research center.

“I donʼt recall seeing you around here,ˮ the woman stranger spoke. “Are you new?ˮ

“Nah, Iʼm here with a friend whoʼs picking up a cousin who works here. Apparently, he just came from Antartica.ˮ

“How intersting,ˮ she mused. “I was just stationed there.ˮ

“Youʼre a researcher?ˮ Bradley raised a brow.

“You seem amused.ˮ

“I didnʼt mean to—“ Bradley blushed.

Her laugh resonated, it was as clear as a spring and as sweet as her eyes. It was the kind of sound you wanted to play on repeat.

“I was simply kidding. I know fairly well the distresses of a woman in a man's world... I just choose to make the most fun I can out of it.ˮ

Bradley chuckled.

“You make ‘em underestimate you, then you pull the ground from under their feet like a riptide.ˮ

She looked at him with great consideration.

“You just see right through me, donʼt you?ˮ she teased.

“I think you did, otherwise we wouldnʼt be talking right now. Which would be unfortunate, of course.ˮ

She laughed once more, and Bradley smiled as they stepped into the marble-floored foyer after a swipe of her card at the door. For a research center, this was far grander than Bradley had imagined from the outside looking in. Tall, corinthian, columns lined the limestone walls on either side. In every space, oil paintings of founders with solemn and peaceful expressions resided there. The glass dome above filtered the sun rays into iridescent shards of light that danced on the cylindrical and tremendous aquarium in the center of the room. It housed vibrant schools of reef fish and brilliant coral, all so dramatically composed to evoke in every beholder pure awe. Bradley whistled, head tilted skywards with a gaping mouth.

“Glorious, isnʼt it?ˮ She chuckled at his expression. “Wait ‘til we really get inside.ˮ

Bradley trailed behind her as they crossed the foyer and climbed up the steps just a little bit past the elevators. The space alone was fit to be a ballroom for a grand royal celebration. Shelves and shelves of books lined the limestone curved against concave walls except in the very middle where a tall, rectangular window allowed a picturesque view of the ocean. In the center of the circular facility, a behemoth, holographic globe floated above a ring of conjoined computers. The remaining space was lined with bench tables and plush chairs.

“Welcome to Umi,ˮ The woman stranger smiled.

“The lights on the globe,ˮ Bradley asked her. “Are those your other branches?ˮ

“Every light represents a team of researchers from all divisions, all around the world.“

“Impressive,ˮ Bradley nodded.

“Umi is that and everything else,ˮ She sighed, as she turned towards the elevators.

“You must love working here with that shine of yours and all,ˮ He mused as they waited for a lift up.

“I do,ˮ she replied passionately. “The sea is my first love.ˮ The elevator doors parted open and Bradley followed her in.

“Do you have anything youʼre passionate about, Mr.—?ˮ She spoke to him. “Iʼm sorry I should have asked for your name—“

“Itʼs Bradley, Bradley Bradshaw. And if I may know yours?”

“Lucy,ˮ the woman smiled at him. “Lucy Mitchell.ˮ

“Lucy,ˮ Bradley repeated. “Like light.ˮ

“What?ˮ

“Thatʼs what your name means,ˮ he told her. “Explains the shine.ˮ

“Do you know the meaning of the names of every woman you meet, Mr. Bradshaw?ˮ Lucy raised a brow playfully. “I hate to admit how clever that is of a way to disarm any of us women.ˮ

“Oh yeah,ˮ Bradley played along. “I read about one name every day from my dictionary, yours just happened to pop up recently.ˮ

“Is that so?ˮ She chuckled. “Then I should warn the others, ‘There is a serial flatterer on the loose with an intent to charm!ʼ“

Bradley laughed.

“Iʼm surprised Iʼve kept up a conversation with you this long at all, to be honest.ˮ

“Now what makes you say that?ˮ Lucy cocked her head to the side.

Bradley wanted to say it was because Lucy Mitchell was beautiful and smart and young and hilarious and sophisticated despite the casual comfort her disposition exuded. That Bradley was old and truly awkward when it came to the really pretty girls that make him laugh. How he desired to so effortlessly make her know that she had a slot in his schedule for a dinner with him. Yes she was a stranger, but this entire interaction surely trumped any small talk he had over the previous online dates he set up and the lonesome evenings at the bar bench when women sauntered over to him to have a little fun for the night

Get off your perch and take the fucking shot, Rooster! He could hear Jake Seresin ringing in his ears.

“Lucy—“

“Lucy!ˮ

The elevator doors parted ajar once more, and in front of them, Nat and her cousin Sam were.

“What are you still doing here?ˮ Sam asked her as they stepped off the lift.

“I just remembered that we left some material on deck,ˮ Lucy replied as she gestured towards Bradley. “And this gentleman is helping me get them to my office.ˮ

“Gentleman, huh?ˮ Nat smirked as she leaned her elbow against Samʼs shoulder. She reached out her hand to Lucy.

“Nice to meet ya, the nameʼs Natasha Trace, but itʼs Nat for everybody.ˮ Lucy shook her hand.

“Likewise. Iʼm Lucy, Lucy Mitchell.ˮ

“I see youʼve already met my friend, Lieutenant Bradley,ˮ Nat had a Cheshire grin stretching across her face. Beyond Lucyʼs periphery, Bradley directed Nat a stern look. Nat quickly cocked her head towards Lucy.

“Sheʼs cute,ˮ she mouthed at him. Bradley raised his eyebrows in agreement.

“You must be Samʼs cousin,ˮ Lucy smiled at her. “He talks a lot about you.ˮ

“Aw, Sam!ˮ Nat cooed as she tucked her cousin under her arm and affectionally rubbed his hair. “My little cousin misses me that much?ˮ

“Only how annoying you are!ˮ Sam groaned. He was a young-looking fellow despite his age, a 23-year-old new grad looking like he just celebrated his 16th birthday. He was tall, lanky, and freckled. His dark and bold features are similar to Natʼs, but Sam’s looked a little softer around the edges, like a muted color compared to Natʼs natural exuberance.

“You—ugh.ˮ Sam struggled against Nat. “Must be Bradley, right?ˮ

“Nice to meet ya,ˮ Bradley confirmed.

“Donʼt let Lucy take those to her office,ˮ Sam finally escaped from Natʼs grasp. “Sheʼs been working non-stop in the expedition and I've been given strict orders that she shouldnʼt be here until next week.ˮ

“Oh come on, Sam!ˮ Lucy whined. “These are the mourning recordings! Weʼve never seen them sing like this! If Foster asks, just say I wasnʼt here!ˮ

“Sheʼll have my ass, that woman!ˮ Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Lucy, go home. Compression Sickness is no light matter. Youʼre still recoveri—! You literally just went for a dive, did you?ˮ

“Perhaps,ˮ She replied nonchalantly. Sam groaned.

“Workaholic, huh?ˮ Nat remarked. “Listen, why donʼt you come out with us? Weʼre hitting the Pier today and catching a movie later. That way, Samʼs ass isnʼt grounded and I get a new girlfriend. Iʼm sure Rooster wonʼt mind, do you Rooster?ˮ

Natasha grinned at him smugly, as Lucy chuckled. They were both resigned to Natʼs insistence.

“Of course not,ˮ Bradley replied.

“That settles it,ˮ Nat smiled. “Meet us in the foyer.ˮ

They exchanged places, Nat and Sam towards the lifts and Bradley and Lucy towards the offices. As the doors closed, Natasha sneaked a quick wink in Bradleyʼs direction. In addition to that, her signature, ‘donʼt screw it upʼ look.

“I'm sorry about her,ˮ Bradley spoke as they walked the sun-lit hallways together towards her office. “She doesnʼt get to meet a lot of women in our line of work, and when she does theyʼre often not nice.ˮ

“I think your girlfriendʼs sweet,ˮ Lucy replied. “Sam thinks really highly of—“

“Sheʼs not my girlfriend,ˮ Bradley interjected.

“Oh,ˮ she closed her eyes briefly and shaking her head. “Iʼm sorry, I shouldnʼt have assumed. The both of you just seemed really comfortable with each other.ˮ

“Yeah we get that a lot,ˮ Bradley sighed, a wave of embarrassment washing over him at his premature response. “Sheʼs one of my best friends, thatʼs all. Weʼve known each other for over 15 years.ˮ

“Are you a naval aviator, yourself?ˮ

Lucy noted the swell in his chest and the small proud smirk that settled on his lips. “That I am.ˮ

They finally arrived at the office and Lucy promptly turned her key in the lock. The translucent door swung open and she quickly gestured towards the side of her desk where Bradley deposited the boxes.

“Thank you, Lieutenant.ˮ Lucy smiled.

“At your service,ˮ Bradley replied. As he bent down, she noticed a small, transverse cut in the inside of his left bicep. He was carrying them for much longer than she had anticipated and the upper corner of the top box must have done it. She opened the top cabinet on her table and retrieved a small metal box with a biscuit label.

“Those look good,ˮ Bradley remarked.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Lieutenant,ˮ Lucy laughed. “Iʼve already ate them all. You cut your arm, by the way.ˮ

“Oh would you look at that,ˮ he mused at the prickle of blood that began to emit. “The horror.ˮ

Lucy laughed again.

“Now, now,ˮ she played along as she ripped an antiseptic wipe open from its paper container. “This will all be over soon.ˮ

She pressed the wipe into his bicep. Her hands were dainty and soft and cool against his skin. He watched her eyebrows furrow just a little as she encountered a little resistance from placing a bandaid decorated with small, little fish— and regarded the way her tongue would poke from her lips. Bradley felt a searing heat in his chest and her touch had become so much more apparent to his senses.

“There we go,ˮ Lucy chuckled. “Crisis averted.ˮ Not quite, Bradley thought. Not quite.

A silence fell between them from the moment they left Lucyʼs office; to the moment Natasha elbowed Sam into the back seat with her (even though Sam wanted to call shotgun, but was then dismissed as Nat was playing wingman); to the moment they placed their orders at a nearby Shake Shack; to the moment they sat side by side through two movies at the theatre; and until now as they watched Sam and Nat board the Devilʼs Drop at Ruby Pier. It wasnʼt the awkward, painful kind of silence that say two middle school sweethearts would experience at a secret, last-minute first date as one or other try to make the first move. It was peculiar kind that was quite comforting.

Lucy tugged Bradleyʼs sleeve. He turned to her, very much endeared by this gesture.

“Wanna take a walk?ˮ She suggested.

“Might as well,ˮ he agreed. “Phoenix is an adrenaline junkie, sheʼs gonna try a couple of those kind of rides before sheʼs done.ˮ

“I feel bad leaving Sam,ˮ she frowned. “Heʼs terrified of dives, let alone those rides.ˮ

“I donʼt,ˮ Bradley kidded. “I get you all to myself.ˮ Lucy chuckled.

“Iʼm afraid I donʼt have a lot to offer with my companionship, Lieutenant, but I think those girls do.ˮ She cocked her head towards a herd of girls giggling in Bradleyʼs direction as they stared at him with glinting eyes.

“I gotta say,ˮ Bradley drawled. “Iʼm a bit offended that you think of me that way.ˮ

“How so?ˮ Lucy challenged with a smile.

“I think I can tell for myself the sort of woman I find interesting, little lady.ˮ

“And you happen to find me interesting?ˮ Lucy laughed.

“Very much so.ˮ

They stopped at a saltwater taffy stall as they began to cross the boardwalk. It was by far the grandest saltwater taffy stall on the Pier, decorated with exuberant colors and classy old-time fonts. The vendor was a short, Asian man in what appears to be his 50s, with smile lines and youthful eyes. His skin was the color of chocolate milk and his eyes were piercingly gray.

“Hello Manong,ˮ Lucy grinned at him.

The old manʼs eyes did not shift, but his lips broke into a great smile.

“Lucy!ˮ He exclaimed in a coarse voice. “How are you? Where have you been, silly girl?ˮ His English was perfectly American, but it did betray some intonations of his own mother tongue. Bradley watched as Lucy reached out her palm to his and pressed his knuckle against her forehead.

“Iʼve been well,ˮ she smiled. “I just arrived home today. Where is Victor? Have you been here all day?ˮ

“Now donʼt you worry sweet girl, I just came here for a short shift. Victor is at the hospital with Sherry. I think theyʼre going to have their third kid. His sisterʼs gonna pick me up in an hour.ˮ

“Itʼs the third one already?ˮ

“I know, Iʼm getting old!ˮ He raised his hands laughing as he proceeded to pack a bag for Lucy, working skillful behind the counter. “Youʼll have the usual one, yes? Now whatʼll your friend be having?ˮ

Bradley without having uttered a single word yet, stared at him. “Well, young man?ˮ

“Iʼll have the caramel swirls with raspberries please,ˮ Bradley replied. The old man chuckled as he got to work.

“This your girl?ˮ

“Manong!ˮ Lucy scolded, a blush quickly staining her cheeks.

“I tell you now that sheʼs a keeper!ˮ He laughed as he handed them their taffy. Bradley was ready to swipe his card, when the old man shook his head.

“On the house for sweet Lucy and her new friend!ˮ He said cheerily.

“Thank you Manong,ˮ Lucy smiled. “Youʼre a gem!ˮ

The old man waved at them as they walked farther down the boardwalk. Lucy gently opened her taffy, inhaling its delicious strawberry and vanilla fragrance before enjoying a pair of them. Bradley followed suit.

“That man was blind, wasnʼt he?ˮ Bradley asked her. Lucy nodded.

“Itʼs not just because of his age. His eyesight just suddenly began deteriorating,ˮ she explained. “His family is one of the oldest saltwater taffy makers in California. Victor is his eldest, and took over when his vision got worse.ˮ

“Iʼd say that heʼs one of the most clear-sighted people I ever met,ˮ Bradley said.

“I agree,ˮ she chewed on a vanilla taffy and covered her mouth as she spoke. “I didnʼt think he could tell that you were even there, much less a man. But he probably should never drive a plane, donʼt you think?ˮ

“Absolutely not,ˮ Bradley laughed. “But he did prove you wrong.ˮ Lucy gazed at him.

“That you, Lucy Mitchell, are indeed interesting.ˮ

They arrived at the near end of the boardwalk in silence. Lucy leaned against the railing, staring out into the ocean. The shards of rich light from the opalescent sky above glimmered all around them, and Bradley saw them dance in the irises of her eyes. Her tongue poked out from her smooth lips just as he had seen this morning. Her hair, like the sea before them, trembled at the wind. Then her gaze finally met his.

“I would say the same Lieutenant,ˮ she said to him. “If you spoke truthfully.ˮ

Bradley did not speak. There was a seriousness in the way she looked at him. He would wait for his turn.

“I am not a fickle woman or one who is easily flattered,ˮ she whispered. “But your words today meant greatly to me, and I canʼt help but think of your intentions. You say that Iʼm a riptide. That my passion shines through. Then you say that I am unexpectedly easy to talk to, and now you say that Iʼm interesting. But you’ve only just met me…”

“I donʼt want to you to misconstrue my intentions or yours, Lieutenant,ˮ she spoke bravely. “And I donʼt want to get my hopes up. But aside from all the things youʼve learned about me today, there is something else you should now... “

“Iʼm not one for casual relations. If someone must have me, then he must earn me first.ˮ

Lucy had fired the first shot.

At Natʼs insistence, she persuaded Lucy to let Bradley take her home instead of the taffy-manʼs daughter. To be fair, it was not too far from her apartment and the fact that Bradley got seven more minutes with Lucy was a bonus on account of Natʼs wingman game. She gave a thumbs up to Bradley before assisting a nauseated Sam from the backseat of the Bronco. Lucy and Bradley were once more enveloped in silence, but it was not as comfortable as it had been during their day out together.

“Hereʼs me,ˮ Lucy told him, hopping out of the Bronco.

Bradley turned the ignition off and walked her to the gate of her quaint, little apartment complex. Three rusty-colored brick buildings surrounded a small courtyard with flower gardens and a concrete fountain with small koi.

“I guess this is it,ˮ Lucy smiled. “It was nice meeting you, Lieutenant. Thank you for the ride home.ˮ

As she turned towards the gate to unlock it, all Bradley could think about was the shots he was too reluctant to take — both in the air and his life. So in that moment, in the crimson light of dusk, his fingers instinctively bound themselves around her wrist. She looked at him in surprise, her sweet, caramel eyes glowing in the sunset.

“This morning you asked me what I was passionate about,ˮ he told her. “Even if I did have the time to answer, I wouldnʼt have known what to say to you because as much as I love to fly and...play music—I donʼt— I donʼt think thereʼs anything I love like how you love the sea. I havenʼt found it yet. A-Anyways, Iʼm probably talking stupid right now, but all Iʼm trying to say is... do you want to help me find out?ˮ

“What?ˮ Lucy uttered in a small voice, stunned.

Bradley tried breathing, but suddenly found it very hard to with the thunderous beating in his chest.

“Will you, Lucy Mitchell, go on an official date with me?ˮ

Her silence made him quiver. Despite how clear her gaze was, there was no telling of the tumultuous thoughts that ran behind it.

“Is it because you felt bad for me? For what I said at the Pier?ˮ Lucy asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Not at all,ˮ Bradley insisted. “If anything, it just made my intentions for you clearer.ˮ

“I date to marry Lieutenant and I donʼt settle for less,ˮ she told him firmly.

“Is that supposed to scare me?ˮ

Lucy gazed at him considerably before speaking.

“Is this Saturday okay for you?ˮ

“You can have me by tomorrow,ˮ Bradley grinned.

“Wow Lieutenant,ˮ she chuckled. “Donʼt you think this is going a little too fast?ˮ

“Iʼm a pilot,ˮ he smirked. “Iʼm basically supersonic.ˮ

God, he loved the way she hid her giggles behind her dainty fingers.

“Alright then,ˮ Lucy spoke. “Tomorrow at 1400, come pick me up. Weʼll go to Sitaʼs on Newport Avenue at Ocean Beach and go from there.ˮ

“Itʼs a date,ˮ Bradley smiled.

“Goodnight, Lieutenant.ˮ

“Itʼs Bradley, for you.ˮ

“Goodnight, Rooster.ˮ

Bradley laughed again.

“Goodnight, Angel.ˮ

Fun Fact! “Koi no Yokan” is a Japanese saying, which means love at second sight. It is described as a feeling of inevitably falling for someone. Jump to their first date at 02 | Halo-Halos by Beach! DM to be tagged!

#rooster fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #top gun 1986 #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun maverick fanfiction

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yuri-is-online · 7 months ago

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I just wanted to say your posts single-handedly made me like Sho and I made a new account with him as my starter.

I'm still not through with ch2 on my first account (why are the battles so hard I only have 2 SRs to help me and rainbow apples are so limited T-T) so at that point I'd only seen Sho ignore mc and remember getting a short campus event where he literally goes "Oh it's just you, what do you want" or something along those lines so I thought he'd be just as bad as Leo lol. And ngl his design wasn't one of my favorites? But I'm the type who quickly grows on whoever I decide to like so now I love him and his silly bandana and the fact he literally wheels around with Bonnie in fights lol.

I'm especially curious about the Like Dove thing and how it works, initially I thought it was a conscious decision to send (like how Kaito assumed the gossiping girls sent it over for him/Luca) but I sincerely doubt anyone in Vagastrom was popular enough to get one (just bc they're scary) so why did it show up in front of mc and Sho when they barely had talked at that point??? Did he already like her or is it more like a "koi no yokan" thing?? I'm so curious about it. Does it show up in ch3 too? I don't see much mention of it.

Anyways, thank you for your Sho drabbles I love reading them sm!! Honestly I wish someone would upload the whole story somewhere so I can play the game at my own pace bc rn I'm just ITCHING to dump resources and try to get ahead (unsuccessfully)

;-; I am so sorry I made you start another account annon. I send love towards your rolls and ward you against the urge to spend money.

I also thought Sho was going to be just as bad as Leo and didn't like his design. The more he actually talked to MC and just in general the more that changed. He's not that bad of a guy at the end of the day, just loyal to a fault. I even like his little bandanna now, it's cute.

From the way Kaito describes the like dove I personally took it to mean that it was attracted to strong positive feelings towards someone. It can't exactly be sent somewhere because it is a sentient anomalous and independent animal. There are a few explanations for how the writers determine when it shows up, so I'll just work through my thoughts here.

The boring answer: stealing this one from someone on reddit, but the Like Dove shows up when MC starts making progress on getting close to the ghouls in the dorm. It shows up in Chapter 21 of Book 2 because Leo uses MC's enhancement and Sho feels sorry for her. I don't like this answer as much because it does not exactly explain why the Like Dove does not show up until the end of Book 3, as at least 2/3 of Jabberwock's ghouls like her pretty much from the start.

Still boring but slightly more fun answer: the like dove shows up when MC starts to have or accepts having positive feelings towards the ghouls around her. It appears in Chapter 21 and at the end of Book 3 because MC feels like she's really starting to help their dorms. This does not exactly work with Kaito's explanation that the dove comes to you when someone has positive feelings towards you.

"Yuri is doing lines of cope again" crack answer: I think describing it as a "koi no yokan" type thing probably makes the most sense. Kaito certainly seems to think of it as indicating romantic feelings, but he's a bit of a hopeless romantic so I'll take him with a pinch of salt. The Dove in Book 2 specifically appears after 1) Sho sees Leo and MC sitting on the couch together and asks if they're a thing and 2) MC asks about Sho's cooking. I don't think Sho ever really thought negatively of MC, he doesn't seem to have thought much about her at all. He describes Luca and MC as "normies" who he doesn't think Leo should waste time on, so no real hatred just indifference. Indifference that changes to reluctant fondness that same night when Leo forces him to stay behind by lying and MC compliments his cooking. So yeah, it shows up when someone has a sense that they could have strong positive feelings towards her. You could also say that it came due to the positive feelings Leo had about the ring helping him spy on Tohma and Alan, but I prefer to think it was from Sho. Because fuck Leo.

As you might have gathered the dove does show up again in Book 3, I forget the exact chapter but it's around when Haru promises to help MC with her curse. It's also the only dove that has showed up with all members of a house present, which is one of the reasons I like Jabberwock so much, best house fr fr. I will keep my eye out for it in Book 4 and keep you all updated, if you like my anon friend I'll try to make a summary post of the story so you can know what's going on while you try to convince the game to let you through. I am rooting for you!

#<3 asks #tokyo debunker #tdb #tdb sho #shohei haizono #shoposting

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angel-kyo · 1 year ago

Text

koi no yokan

-------------------------------

"Thanks." You grabbed the soda Nanami was handling you.

You two had just finished a mission and stopped by a convenience store to buy something to drink.

After a while, Nanami spoke. "You have been quiet."

"I thought you didn't want me making small talk." The words had come out harsher than you had intended and he glanced at you. "Sorry", you muttered, "I..."

"I'm sorry if I gave you that impression. But I did not mean you are quiet just today. I thought you liked talking to Haibara, but he thinks so too as of the last few days." He did not sound bothered, rather, if you squinted, he seemed a little concerned. "Is something bothering you?"

"Not at all!", you blurted out too fast, loud enough for a couple of bystanders to spare a glance in your direction. You cleared your throat and repeated softer this time "I mean, no, there is nothing bothering me."

The real answer had assaulted your mind at full speed. There is something bothering me. That library thing. The fact I could not fight and the fact I have no idea of what would have happened if I had. The fact that I had to be saved. That Gojo kid. The possibility of being weaker than I thought. Not that you could tell him all that.

Nanami nodded. "I see. My apologies then. We should get going." He got up and started walking.

It was true you were not usually sent on missions alone with Kento, and when you did, most times, Yu was around to strike up conversation among the three of you. But you hadn't felt uncomfortable until now. Lying to someone's face was a way to upset them, so maybe a little honesty would not hurt.

"I've just been thinking...", you started, "Nanami, if you were to rate my strength on a scale of 1 to 10, what would you give me?"

He seemed to think for a couple of seconds, still walking by your side.

"A strong 6."

"Straight forward..." You wanted to ask what he would rate himself, but you didn't.

"Don't take it the wrong way. You will probably become stronger. I just don't think being a sorcerer is all about strength though, so I wouldn't think much of it."

You nodded and continued walking in silence until you reached station.

Besides, there is always a shortage of sorcerers. It does not matter if neither of us is strong; we have to fight because we can. That thought crossed Nanami's mind as he waited for your train to arrive, but he remained silent.

As the train entered the station, you looked at Nanami. "You are right," you spoke, and he wondered if you were still thinking of what he had said, some remorse dawning on him, "I like talking to Haibara, but I like talking to you as well." You smiled at him and got in the train.

However blunt, Nanami's words had given you some comfort. But your words just now had made a light blush appear on his face. It was a shame you had not seen it.

------------------------

previous < six > next

#jjk #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #only of you squint #gojo satoru #nanami kento #koi no yokan #jjk drabbles #writing #jjk fanfic #jjk nanami #gojo x you

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galvanizedfriend · 5 months ago

Note

Hey, I'm new to KC fanfics...any good authors you know of+their works? Just stated reading TW series and it's so good!

Hi, nonnie! Thank you, I'm very glad you're enjoying The Wolf! 😊

This fandom is luckily blesses with many good writers. If you search for Klaroline Fic Rec on my blog, I've done tons of rec lists over the years.

But to rec some:

Just about anything by @definedareasofuncertainty , or coveredinthecolors on AO3. You'll find her works here. I'm a fangirl and will vouch for absolutely everything she has ever written. One of my all-time favorite authors, who has a brilliant Klaus voice and one of the most evocative and colorful writings in fandom.

@cupcakemolotov is a fandom legacy writer for a reason. There are more than 200 (!!!!!) fics for you to choose from and they are all brilliant! There's something for every taste, seriously cannot go wrong. Works here.

Borzoi has sadly only ever posted on FF.net, but you will not regret a trip to the past to read her works. You'll find some of all-time favorite fics here. If I had to rec one, it would be Parisian Deal, but Paradise Lost is fantastic too. Works here.

@highgaarden, who's but_seriously on AO3. Hannah has also written some of my favorite fics. This is a Harvest has a special place in my heart. But I have read almost everything she has ever written, and it's all fantastic. Works here.

@kirythestitchwitch writing is just delicious, the type that you can't get enough of because as soon as you start reading you just become addicted. Perfect dialogue, perfect wit, perfect characterization and Mikaelson shenanigans! Works here.

@morningstargirl666 has an epic TVD rewriting that starts all the way from a retelling of the Originals' past, and it's honestly impossible not to embrace it as canon after reading it. Works here.

Another one of my all-time favorites: @lalainajanes! Some faaaaantastic one shots and brilliant multi-chaps that worked as gateway drugs for me when I starting to read KC fics. Colored You In is perfection! But just over 200 fics for you to choose from. It's a feast. Works here.

@misssophiachase writes some of the best KC rom-coms fics, the type that just warms you heart and makes you fall in love with them in any setting. I'm WEAK for a good rom com and she has many to choose from! Works here.

These are just some of my favorites! 😊 But like I said, if you check out my recs lists, you'll find many more. Hope you find something there to your liking, nonnie!

#yokan answers #anon #klaroline fic rec

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edwinspaynes · 1 year ago

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Why do you think Thomas is attracted to Alastair right away at school?

Besides Alastair being good-looking?

Because Alastair is an interesting person. There's obviously more to him than meets the eye. He's an intriguing human being for Thomas to contemplate.

More than that, though, I think the text itself answers that question in Cast Long Shadows.

"Ah, Mother Hen Fairchild," sneered Alastair. "What a lovely wife you will make for somebody one of these fine days." Matthew was outraged to see Thomas's tiny smile, though Thomas quickly concealed it out of respect for Matthew's feelings. Thomas was meek and much afflicted by sisters. He seemed to think Alastair being rude to everyone was daring.

Thomas smiling simply shows the fact that Thomas finds Alastair funny. He's undoubtedly horrible at being a bully. Comments like "Mother Hen Fairchild" and "Pipsqueak" are mean, but they're utterly juvenile. It's amusing and the comments are just objectively hilarious. If you read their interactions in the TLH canon, you'll also notice that their senses of humor align a lot.

But also, Thomas sees Alastair- and his juvenile, rude, funny comments- as daring and bold. Thomas is shy and quiet, though smart and observant. He is boxed in even then as "the kind one," and he is resentful of it (as shown in both Chain of Gold and Chain of Iron, when he says it makes him sound dull and he wishes he weren't). Alastair possesses this boldness that Thomas wishes that he had, and he is drawn to someone with a trait that he respects.

I also would be remiss to say that I truly think Thomas felt some sort of soulmate connection to Alastair almost immediately. There's no real canon evidence of this, but he does quickly and intensely latch on. More specifically, I suspect that there was some koi no yokan going on - not love at first sight, but the feeling upon first meeting someone that you will inevitably fall in love with them.

#thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs #thomastair

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yridenergyridenergy · 7 months ago

Note

Hi🙂 I would like to ask You- how do You like the new single? I mean the song, not the PV - it causes a lot of controversy and I don't want to start the fire again. (Of course, if You don't want to answer, You don't have to 🙃 - I'm just curious about Your opinion) Warm regards

Thanks for asking! I wasn't sure about posting my review since it's just a single. Overall, I like the new song, and it will most likely be a very powerful song to see live. However, Shinya got his wish to compose a song with less complicated drumming, which is the opposite of my wish hah. Also, considering the numerous layers of vocals throughout the song and how some sentences almost overlap with the end of others, it sounds to me like the singing will not be sustainable.

For some reason, 19990120 had a mellow effect on me so I expected to feel the same with Yokan and Cage, but it was actually comforting to hear them again. I do wish that they had been complete remakes in today's Dir en grey's sound though, that would have been insane.

About to start watching the John Wayne Gacy documentary on Netflix to further form an opinion on the PV. I still don't think it makes sense. I planned to sub the PV once it came out but there doesn't seem to be a point to adding lyrics on top of an unrelated video...

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petalsofyouth · 2 years ago

Text

koi no yokan / part 1 | ran haitani x reader

tw: set in early 00s-10s, flawed characters, unreliable narrator, mentions of drug use, mentions of assault (nothing graphic) | i literally hate tagging so much because i feel like i missed something; anyways, if you think i really did tell me and i will include it.

wc: 18.516

author's note: i actually didn't want to post 'kny' on here and wanted my tumblr to be strictly for one-shots and drubbles, but now i haven't posted in so long & i desperately want to, so here we go.

part 1.

The new place promised a new life with new memories and new friends and new basically everything. It was too much. It was suffocating to the point where your breathing wouldn’t even out and every next breath seemed not enough. You tried to calm yourself with your favourite cup of coffee and your read half through [page one hundred and thirty five] book.

You brought a lot of books with you from your home. Them, all along with your other stuff still neatly packed in boxes had a faint smell of flowers. So mawkish it made you nauseous and despite heavy rain outside you wide opened every single window in your apartment. You wondered how you never noticed this (almost, not yet) stench back at home.

At home everything smelled like this, because your father had a flower shop and your mom loved her enormous garden more than anything else. She spent hours outside. He was at work all day. You and your older sister were at home alone.

You loved your family even though sometimes you wondered what was lacking. What was it that your heart was longing for. In all your years there you never found an answer to such an obvious question. Now, standing before a window wall, overlooking one of the many side streets of Roppongi in your late grandma’s apartment, you thought how amusing it was that when you escaped your native Obihiro you missed it so dearly. Do psychologists have a name for this feeling? As if knowing a name for something would provide you with shelter.

A small rather inaudible sigh left your lips. You opened a balcony door smelling wet air. It will rain soon. Hopefully for hours and well into the night. But for now you will drink your homemade iced coffee and read your almost finished book.

Because you are eighteen and it’s the end of March of 2006 and you will start lawyer school in less than two weeks and everything is so new and bright and sad at the same time.

Being young is really truly overwhelming.

part 2.

In the next two months you try to make new friends so you don’t feel that lonely.

You go out with them a lot. To the cinema, to karaoke, to bowling, to their small apartments and huge mansions. Name it and you’ll be there. Just to feel a bit less lonely. Surrounded by people, with drink in your neatly manicured hands, you are almost a part of that raving crowd.

Almost.

It’s never enough and returning back to your own place that finally started indeed looking like your own place in the early morning when sky is pink and cold blue and your legs are so heavy you can barely stand is relieving. To the point you promise yourself it’s your last time going out. You would believe yourself, but then again you said the same thing last week and two weeks before that too.

When friends don't magically appear after all these months you stop. You start attending all your classes, you read manga and books on your balcony, do homework and extra work to earn more credits. You cook and the smell of homemade food circulates the three storey building. Your neighbors must be mad at you because you usually play chef late at night. They either hate you or love you, you think. No complaints come though so you continue steering pots at three in the night.

Your mom calls you twice every week. Your dad almost every day. Your sister never. She sends you messages instead. They are stupid and small.

i am fine (x_x) (emojis she’s using never correlating with the text)

it’s empty without you at home

(/▿＼ )

found your stupid manga today & read it & why is this shit so sad. u r so depressing.

i am fine

[ ± _ ± ]

don’t worry i won’t threw it out

mom’s roses are withering she’s mad

i am fine

It’s never anything important so you reply the same nonsense back or sometimes nothing at all. You have a funny feeling you are missing out on something. You don’t catch what it is.

You'll never do.

part 3.

Life in Tokyo is not easy, but it’s not that difficult either. You fall into a perfectly constructed routine quite quick, without any problem .

You wake up. You make yourself your favourite iced coffee, throwing a little bit too much ice, and with a satisfaction you watch how ice melts, cracking under the warm hug of espresso. You drink your coffee on the balcony and then you go to university where you spend most of your day.

In the evening you return home. You eat. You read or draw and then you go to bed.

Somewhere in the middle of all these you find a friend. A true friend. She doesn’t go to parties and prefers to spend her free time in a coffee shop, walking around the park or reading a book. It sounds somewhat boring at first, but she’s a truly good person (and you haven't met a lot of those lately), so you succumb.

She’s a Tokyo native which is insanely good, because she shows you a part of the city that was hidden from you all this time. Together you go to have the best ramen and yakitori and imagawayaki. You visit art galleries because you both are into the art and you both are lawyers to be, but you’d rather be an artist. You go to libraries and bookshops. You draw in the park together and at your apartment since she lives with parents and it’s more convenient to hang out at your place.

Your new best friend is the one to warn you about gangs and all the criminal activity that is lurking in Tokyo’s darkest parts. It sounds more like a distant far away world that won’t ever touch you. You don’t feel frightened. After all you left it all at Obihiro with your sister and her stupid ex boyfriend who too was a part of the local gang.

Didn’t you?

The calm voice of your friend continues naming all the gangs and then she fills you in on what they do and what territories they control and how exactly they do it. It’s crazy to think she knows that much about it. Especially for a future lawyer.

You tell her just that.

She smiles and says that her eldest brother is in the gang hence she knows so much. His gang is cool though. They don’t beat women or children. They challenge other gangs and they do try to be fair to everyone and everything. They are good guys.

The way she talks about them you might think they are Robin hoods of Tokyo.

You know for a fact it’s (probably, you have your doubts) not true.

part 4.

It is early in the morning when you wake up one day in July. It’s scorching hot and gladly you have no school today so you spend half of the morning in bed staring at white ceiling. Thinking about nothing. It’s an easy morning and you appreciate the calm - though very very hot - air that surrounds you.

Laying around in bed proves nothing. It’s boring and soon your thoughts get too complicated. Too difficult. And if anything you don’t want today to be difficult.

It’s gotta be a nice day.

That much is decided, when you slowly rise from the bed, fall on it again, lay there for two minutes listening to the clock doing its little, but loud tik-tak-tik-tak dance. Eventually you get up and stretching midway march into the bathroom.

Bathroom is like a cold oasis in the desert. Your feet touching cool marble tiles, you cross a small room aiming towards a rather spacious but square form bathtub. Why and how your late grandma chose this ridiculous design is now history. You regret you never asked.

After taking a long bath, you throw a towel around yourself and go to the kitchen. To make yourself a cup of iced coffee, of course. You don’t do breakfasts and now it’s well past the time people eat their gohan, natto and whatever else they have for their first meal of the day. You’ll cook something a little bit later. Or call your friend and go out to that now favourite place to have sushi.

Summer breeze is gentle on your naked shoulders when you sit down on the balcony. The view is not much. Just another grey living building with luxury cars in the parking lot. Roppongi is surely different from your native Obihiro. Well, it’s even different from Tokyo itself. The contrast is subtle and you can’t tell what it is exactly, but it’s there. Present as ever.

You love Roppongi.

The quiet alone time ends suddenly. You hear something tearing and then a caustic smell of vinegar welcomes itself in the air. You groan. Loudly. Trying to guess what it is you stand up from your bamboo chair and look around as if it could reveal the sudden intruder. The unexpected intruder reveals himself.

“Oi! It’s chips.” The voice comes from your left and you look that way seeing nothing, but a plastic beige partition. You never noticed it being there before.

“How did…” You start, tilting your head so you could see the owner of the voice - he sounds young and you are quite curious because for all the months you live here you never knew you had someone your age living in your building. To be frank, you only met the old lady upstairs, but that’s because she was your late grandma’s friend and introduced herself first when you just moved in.

“You make a lot of noise.” He stops, mulling something over and you can almost hear thoughts being born in his head. Instead, he snickers and says nothing.

The barrier between your balcony’s space and his is nonexistent. The only thing dividing you two is that plastic beige partition which you easily look over from, steadying yourself on steel railings with one hand (the other one is holding the towel wrapped around your body) and furiously peer at your neighbour.

You totally never saw him before because you have a feeling that you would have noticed and remembered him. He is quite a character.

Blond hair with almost neon blue highlights is what you see first. Then his glasses that cover his peculiar coloured eyes. From the distance you can’t quite tell what colour they are, but it’s not brown, hazel or blue. It’s some other colour or maybe it’s the mix of all of them. They catch your attention the most. Until, your gaze travels south, to his chest full of tattoos. He is not wearing any t-shirt; fair enough it’s too hot and he is home.

Being too busy observing him you don’t notice him squinting his eyes and giving you almost the same identical look. The difference was though that he has seen you before. A lot of times actually. Now, he was just getting a better look.

“Salt and vinegar? Really?”

“Wanna some?” He offers you to which you wrinkle your nose and he snorts at you.

It’s more of a laugh than anything else so you don’t even register it. You don’t reply and get back to your chair in the safety of your own balcony. The whole situation seems ridiculous but the more you think about it - sitting some metres away from him hearing him eating his chips - the more it feels like it was supposed to be like this.

It’s your first time feeling something like this.

It’s deviating.

part 5.

After this encounter you see him everywhere.

On the flight of stairs. At the convenience store next to your house. In the parking lot under your building. You even bump into him on Keyakizaka street and once catch a glimpse of him at Roppongi Station.

It’s not unusual. You are neighbours. It should feel normal, but it doesn’t. It’s almost like he follows you around prying into your daily life. You know it’s not true because he doesn’t have a reason for it. Well, he doesn’t even know your name. Maybe it’s just fate that wants you two together.

Most of all, you meet on your joined balcony. He’s quietly eating his salt & vinegar chips while you read or paint. Sometimes he listens to his music. He does it wearing huge white Audio-Technica headphones. He blasts music at full volume and after some time you memorise his playlist. You must admit it. He’s got a nice taste in music.

You say it to him once and when he replies you can hear an easy smile intertwining with his words. “No shit. I wanna be a DJ. I do have a full DJ setup, it’s just that I rarely use it nowadays.”

“Why?”

It’s a simple logical question, but he doesn’t answer right away. Silence settles between you two and soon the only sound you can hear is that old lady on the floor above speaking to her husband. She asks him what he wants for dinner. It somehow reminds you of your home in Obihiro and swarms of cicadas rise in front of your eyes. Their сhirping fills your ears. The sound of home and summer.

The 2B pencil in your hand moves on its own while you wait for him to say something. It’s only after you sketch your yard full of cicadas on the pavement he finally speaks.

“Just being busy with work and Ran doesn’t like it when it’s too loud and my music is too loud for him”.

“Ran?”

He waits again before responding. This time it’s shorter. You don’t manage to draw anything. “My older brother.”

“He has a pretty name and I agree with him. Your music's too loud. I can hear it through your headphones all the time.”

“It suits him. His name.” He ignores you siding with his brother and doesn’t give you the satisfaction of being teased by you. “Mine though doesn’t suit me. Do I look like a Rindou to you?”

You laugh. He laughs too in a i told you so way. He doesn’t see you drawing gentian and orchid in the left corner of your sketch.

You also think his name suits him well.

part 6.

When Rindou meets you outside he always acknowledges you in one way or another.

It depends if he is alone or has company.

If he is alone he’d chat you up, asking you meaningless questions about your day. If he is with someone he’d just nod at you.

You don’t dwell on the subject. You don’t think he might be embarrassed of knowing you or some stupid shit like this. It doesn’t hurt your pride because you don’t know him that well after all. Besides your occasional balcony conversation you have nothing. You are barely even friends.

He doesn’t know your name. He never asked. At this point you are almost strangers.

part 7.

Your life carries on.

You attend classes, go out with your best friend, read books, draw and chat with Rindou. Over time you two become more accustomed to each other. Conversations turn effortless. Personal information shifts to shared. Neither of you mind it. Oversharing and spilling secrets doesn’t exist in your comfortable bubble in the middle of Roppongi.

Rindou is cosy.

No matter how close you two grow to each other, you (not him too, but you don’t know it) tell your friends about your little friendship. A grim feeling of inevitable stops you every time you try to tell your best friend about him, his blue locks and round glasses. If you tell her something bad will happen. What you can’t tell. This ominous prediction follows you around. Never leaving. You keep your mouth shut. If anything, you don’t want to ruin your nook.

He, on the other hand, doesn’t tell anyone because they won’t understand his desire to feel like a normal person for once in his life. He never mentions to you that he is in a gang. What he is doing with his brother and friends at night. He never shows you just how violent he can get and this side of him is hidden from you. Rindou likes it this way. This way you are friends with him because he likes vinegar & salt chips, wants to be a DJ and goes to gym every once in a while.

You are not afraid of him and you do not pretend.

He wants to keep it that way.

So he, just like you, keeps you away from his world.

By the end of the summer he learns your name.

part 8.

Despite all your accidental meetings you’ve never bumped into Rindou when he was with his older brother. Despite that, you feel like you know him already.

Rindou talks a lot about Ran. As it supposed to be, you assume.

You don’t talk about your older sister that much though.

You wonder if Rindou wonders why.

However it may be, he never asks you about that.

“Ran is a pain in the ass.” Says Rindou looking at the small screen of his Nokia 6230. He shoves white phone - every piece of technology he owns appears to be white and you want to ask if it is consciously done - in the pocket of his wide black sweatpants. “He is staying out today”.

The intonation and tone he chooses are suggestive to where his brother might be staying and what he plans on doing. You laugh and don’t press too much. It’s not your business and you are not interested in how Ran spends his leisure time.

“At least he could’ve told me earlier. Kakucho invited me to go to Atami, but he is already on his way and I don’t wanna go on my own all the way there. It’s what… like two hours? Three?”

He says all that in front of the convenience store where you both met some minutes ago. It’s well after six in the afternoon and street lamps are barely emitting any power yet. Soon the streets would be draped in these nostalgic azure lights and the whole Roppongi would come alive while other parts of Tokyo would slowly fall to sleep.

There are no people outside and no cars pass by you two. Your small nook is silent. Even the ventilators of refrigerators at convenience store stopped producing noise. The next thing you know it’s raining. A little drizzle. You sigh. “Wanna come over? I’ll cook.”

“Real homemade food?”

“Yeah. What a stupid question.”

He smiles a bit, thinking to himself that, well, maybe missing out on hot springs in Atami wouldn’t be so bad. He knows for a fact nor Ran nor Kakucho would eat anything smelling so delicious like your food. For a bunch of delinquents without family a plate of soup made specifically for them is a huge deal.

Of course, he doesn’t say any of these. He shrugs, his shoulders going up and down, and takes a huge paper bag with groceries out of your arms.

Together you walk towards your apartment building.

part 9.

You didn’t make soup that evening.

In the role of the guest Rindou took it upon himself to decide what you both should have for dinner. As you guessed before he wasn’t a shy type so feel yourself at home words died on the tip of your tongue the second he took his adidas sneakers off and went ahead of you to the kitchen. Strangely enough he went in the right direction. Maybe the layout of your apartments were the same. You were neighbours after all.

When you showed up in the kitchen, dressed in your for home shorts and your dad’s old t-shirt, he already stuck up everything you bought earlier in their places and was now patiently waiting for you, playing snake on his phone.

“I think you can make us soba with vegetables. And some chicken too, but I like it without skin”. He said, not raising his head in your direction. He appeared strangely familiar in your kitchen. As if he was there every day.

You nodded, not sure if he was paying any attention to you at all. “I have chicken breasts. Do you prefer enoki or shiitake?”

“Put both. I like both.”

Cooking is not a quick business. Rindo grew bored of watching you doing the same thing with different products and took it upon himself to tour your apartment alone. You didn’t mind. You had nothing to hide. Your paintings, mangas and books were all there was. Doubtful it would be of any interest to him you didn’t worry.

To Rindou it was different. He felt like he was intruding your personal life. Probing himself to become a part of it. If not that accidental meeting and Ran’s spontaneous decision to stay god knows where he wouldn’t be here at all. Looking at your canvases with unfinished paintings woke inside of him a dreadful feeling of unbearable closeness to you.

In all his life he never befriended anyone. All people came and went out as they pleased. Nobody stayed for long. He didn’t give them a reason either and not a single person asked for it.

Nobody made an effort to stay.

Looking at your pencil sketch of the valley full of gentians he already knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if you went away too.

part 10.

“I was in a juvie with Ran”. The confession comes out of him suddenly. He looks you in the face trying to decipher your reaction. There’s none that he could pinpoint. “We got out recently.” He adds as an attempt to fill the silence that lingers around the corner.

You put chopsticks aside and pressing your lips into thin line attempt to guess the motive behind his words.

Why did he say this now?

What is the reason?

Why did he decide to open up now that you having a quiet dinner at your apartment?

You find all the answers in his eyes. They are like amethyst. Blue and pink mixed together in a beautiful peculiar shade that suits Rindou just a little too much. They are intent and pleading. He has decided something for himself while you were busy cooking and what it is he doesn’t let you know yet, but you sure it has something to do with your hasty friendship.

“Why?”

“We beat up the leader of the gang and his vice to take over Roppongi. The vice didn’t make it out alive. Ran might have gone overboard a bit.”

“So it was an accident?” Your words are not of justification, but about stating the truth.

“Pretty much, but I don’t regret him dying.” He waits a moment and then adds. “If I knew the outcome before I would’ve done the same thing”.

The silence that settles between you two is heavy, but not uncomfortable. It changes the inevitable course of your relationship and you both let it do it. Whatever said is said. There is no turning back.

You avert your gaze to the steaming food in front of you and take a deep breath before saying what you want to say. Rindou gets ahead of you interrupting what yet to be said. “Do you think differently of me now that you know it?”

“No.” Your response is immediate. No delays. No hesitation. “Still the same Rindou as before. Some of us have to do fucked up things to survive.”

“Did you kill someone?”

Your laugh fills the room and cracks in his heart that were there because of worry. He is ridiculous, he knows it.

But it’s easy to be ridiculous with you.

part 11.

In the month to come you learn more about Rindou Haitani.

He and his brother are in the gang, but they are by themselves. They rule over Roppongi alone and every single person there is theirs. [This is said in a proud voice and when you ask if you are theirs too since you too now live in Roppongi Rindou goes red. It’s cute.] Their parents are not with them. If they are dead or alive, if they were forced to leave them or abandoned them out of their free will, Rindou doesn’t elaborate. The wound might be still too fresh or maybe it would never heal at all.

After every bit of information he asks you if you are still seeing him the same way. You always say yes.

You open up to him too. You tell him more about Obihiro. Your parents that are married and that there’s no love in that marriage anymore. That you believe your dad has a mistress and that your mother knows and that this is a reason she is so attached to her garden full of roses. She tends to flowers and loves them in a way she can’t care and love her husband.

One evening when Rindou stops by your apartment and sits on the bar stool watching you cook chicken katsu you tell him about your sister. How she got involved with a guy who was in a local gang and that your parents blame him for her drug addiction. It’s a touchy subject and he is the first person you ever discussed this with.

“You don’t think he is to blame?” He asks in an uncharacteristically quiet voice.

“No. I think my sister knew better than this. She was her own person before she met him and after she met him. You can’t blame somebody for a decision you solely made.”

Rindou senses your anger. He thinks [knows] you’ve never been in love.

part 12.

It’s November when you are introduced to Ran.

By this time he’s heard about you [and you yourself albeit muffled by thick glass of balcony door] numerous times. The occasion to meet you never presented itself. Even though it would be a lie from his side if he says he wasn’t dying to meet you. His interest was as high as Fugaku. Not because of you as of you, - he didn’t know you and he’s hardly a curious person - but because of his brother’s soft demeanour and lack of usual disdain he presents around other people. Never you.

It nags Ran more than he would care to admit.

The absence of interest in him from your part was a bit suspicious. It depended on what Rindou had told you about him so it might be just his brother's fault and not your mere disregardless of Ran. Who in their right mind would purposely ignore him?

Their cupboard where they store instant noodles are empty and Ran groans when his palm touches the dusty wood surface. He is tired. And sleep deprived. Too many responsibilities weighed heavy on his shoulders. Last night he returned home around five in the morning and went immediately to bed. His only meal of the day was tuna onigiri he bought at 7/11. It tasted sloppy and rice was not cooked the way he liked it to be cooked. He complained about it all to Rindou who just clattered. To him, onigiri seemed fine. Not the best he had and certainly not worthy to whine about the whole night.

Ran was just being Ran. Now he was starving. His empty stomach churning.

“What did you eat today?” He turned around and suspiciously eyed Rindou who was sitting back to him on their newly bought white sofa watching TV. The show running there was unfamiliar to Ran.

“Rice, two eggs and plum pickles.”

The last time Ran had plum pickles happened a long time ago he couldn’t even remember when exactly, less alone the taste. His mouth watered all the same. The non-bothered expression [he could sense even while looking at Rindou’s nape] on his brother's face only added to his starving agony. “You went out?”

“No. Well… technically yes, but not really.”

Whatever the meaning of Rindou’s answer, Ran doesn’t catch it. He thinks of asking for an explanation, but senses Rin furrowing. Too focused on the jumping screen of the TV. His whole attention focused on a documentary about wildlife of South America. Ran’s mouth sprawls into an oh-i-know-what-you-are-thinking-of-now sly smile when he goes around and catches Rin bite his lower lip. It makes Ran forget about his minor problems. For the next couple of minutes if so.

Teasing his little brother about his new female friend is more important. And fun.

“Why are you being so defensive when it comes to our new neighbour?”

The question is simple, but the devious tone it's being asked suggests it’s more than this. Rin wants to punch his brother, but instead he sighs. He can’t understand why he is being so protective over you too.

“I am not fucking being defensive. It’s your way of asking about her that makes me angry.”

“My way of asking?”

“Yes. It’s like you wanna ask me if we fuck or not?”

“Do you?”

“For fuck’s sake, Ran. No. She’s just a friend.” Rindou rises from the sofa and storms off to his room. He doesn’t forget to slam the door so Ran understands the level of the anger he feels towards him now.

He does.

So, Ran sprawls on the white sofa. Pillows here are so fluffy he might fall asleep for an hour or so. After he wakes up he’ll knock at Rindou’s door and together they will go to the convenience store. Rindou won’t be angry anymore. He’ll whine and complain and maybe won’t speak with Ran for fifteen minutes or so, but eventually he’ll put the whole conversation about you aside.

After all they are brothers and Rindou can’t stay mad at Ran for long.

It goes the same for Ran too.

part 13.

When Rindou warned you about the dark alleys of Roppongi you should’ve listened to him.

But as all people, you too, you believe you are invincible. You believe it won’t happen today or with you. Anybody, but you.

When you go out that night to meet your best friend at Kagurazaka, there’s not a slightest worry in your bones. You chat freely, drink two cocktails on an almost empty stomach - your impromptu dinner with Rindou happened around four and now it was approaching midnight - and politely decline your friend’s invitation to stay over. She doesn’t live nearby, but her house is relatively closer than yours. It doesn’t matter to you.

You want to go home.

You catch the last train. It’s empty. The night is clear and beautiful. The glimmering lights of Tokyo are more than mesmerising. They are surreal. Nothing around you suddenly is real. You have an urge to draw the scenery. You dig into your bag, but there’s no pencil there nor there’s a piece of paper. It's almost like a lost chance, but instead of giving up, you memorise the view. How houses look, their lights, neon banners and small nooks.

High on Tokyo you arrive at Roppongi station. With a picture before your eyes you don’t notice three young men following you home. If you would, you probably would’ve thought better than cutting your way home and instead would've chose the main road. But you don’t and they feel incredibly lucky.

A beautiful girl and a purse with money.

Firstly, they yank your bag and when you don’t give it up easily they push you hard to the ground. You fall on the wet pavement utterly confused. Sharp pain goes through your ribs. You try to stand up, not hearing their mocking laughs and your keys falling to the ground.

It should be humiliating, but you don’t feel humiliated at all. Not even when the hands of one of them goes under your dress. It’s cold and wet and your body starts shaking with anger. You are silent when your first crashes onto his face. The stench of blood is suffocating and the skin on your knuckles brakes with a loud thud.

You doubt they hear it or care about it because one of them slaps you across your face. Your nose bleeds and blood plops down. It brings a salty taste to your mouth. It covers your collarbones and stains your dress. At this moment you know that there’s nothing you can do and that it is better to give up so you run to the convenience store. It’s two blocks away and there’s always a cashier inside. They won't dare to do anything in somebody’s presence won’t they?

It’s a fact that those who attacked you are cowards. Nobody else, but a coward would attack a girl in a dress returning home.

part 14.

Rindou sees you first.

He is without glasses - forgot them somewhere between arguing with Ran and forgetting to grab keys from their apartment - but he can clearly see the blood on your face and clothes. He drops the iced peach tea bottle and storms off past confused Ran.

It’s too late for Halloween parties and he knows you well enough to know that this is not some trickery. It’s the real blood coating very real you. He puts his palms on your shoulders, you are stiff underneath him, but you don’t cry and he takes this as a good sign. “What happened?”

“They…” You stutter, confused expression on your face, you don’t look at him, but between your bodies, at his nike shoes. They are white. As expected. You don’t want to stigmatise them red. “Somebody just attacked me. Three of them.”

“Who and where?” The voice is unfamiliar. He sounds similar to Rindou’s, but is more high and persuasive. Rindou never speaks like that. It might be somebody else.

This somebody else lingers behind his brother. His gaze never leaves your face and despite the situation he finds you very beautiful. There’s something about you that knocks him off immediately and when you raise your eyes at him he knows he is doomed.

Ran being Ran he shows none of it. Neither do you.

“Down the street to the left then again to the left and then to the right.” You explain, ignoring the intensifying grip of Rindou’s fingers clawing at your shoulder blades. “There were three of them.”

Ran flashes you a smile. It’s genuine and you are confused at what exactly is here to smile. “Rin take her home. I’ll be back soon.”

“Do you have it with you?”

Ran smirks. He follows the directions you gave him and disappears under the blue lights of lamps.

Not without showing his baton to worried Rindou. He makes a whole show of it, taking the weapon out of his sweats’ pocket and raising it up so it is visible. He doesn’t turn to look at you to see if you are watching him. He knows you both do.

part 15.

It’s your first time being inside their apartment, but no matter how much you want to tour it, Rindou shows you into the bathroom. It’s tiny and you pass a small dressing room to get inside wondering why there’s a sink in it, but you don’t get to ask because Rindo tells you to wait a second.

He brings you a change of fresh clothes. It’s black sweats and a grey oversized t-shirt. You want to ask to whom they belong, but somehow you understand they are Rindou’s. He wouldn’t just pass his brother’s clothes like this.

Before getting into the bathtub you examine your body. There are bruises on the left side that mark your skin from where your breasts are and all the way down to your leg. It’s almost like Rindou’s tattoo. You smirk and try not to move much, because once you see the damage it starts to hurt as if your brain only detects what can be seen. Fucking fascinating.

The door to the bathroom is not locked. You remember it when the first drops of hot water fall onto your aching body. You doubt Rindou or his brother would barge in though so you aren’t worried. Methodically, you wash your face, clean your scraped knee and watch blood mixed with water disappear through the drain. Once again everything feels out of place. Your blood, your black painted toenails, scratches and bruises it feels like they aren’t you. Like they aren’t yours. But the hurt reminds you very vividly that this is simply not true. It’s all you.

What happened today happened to you. And there’s nothing you can do about it.

You look around yourself searching for the soap or something else that will scrap this day off you. On the white plastic shelf you notice two soaps, one shower gel and god knows how many hair products. There’s no way to tell what belongs to whom so you take whatever smells better to you.

Inside your head it’s silent. No replaying of the events. Nothing. It’s not that you do that deliberately. You are not sure you possess that kind of will. It’s extremely hard to choose what you want to think about. Thoughts are not like trains. You don’t get to miss some and then hop on the next, because you like it better. You’ll board every single one and live it thoroughly.

Want it or not.

“Did they smack you in the face?”

It’s the first thing Rindou asks when you emerge from the bathroom. He observes you carefully from the bar stool. Better than anybody else he knows what it’s like to deal with strong emotions and unpleasant situations. He is surprised though when you roll your eyes at him and laugh. Shouldn’t you be crying? Or is it that bad you numbed yourself? The sudden alert in his eyes sells you to him.

“They did. And they also pushed me to the ground. I have a huge bruise right here.” You show him where, pointing your hand from breasts to your leg. “Nothing to worry about though.”

He doesn’t understand why you are trying to comfort him when it should be the other way. He sighs. “Get on the sofa I’ll bring you an ice pack and this cream Ran got at the pharmacy the other day. Works like fucking magic. It’ll stop swelling and the colour won’t be so bad.”

You don’t ask him why they have this cream or so many other medicines. It’s pointless. It's common knowledge to you now what they are doing. You sit on the sofa where earlier today Ran took a short nap before he and Rindou went to the convenience store. Just at the right time to meet you. Coincidence or not you are really grateful you saw them there. You tell it to Rindou.

He shrugs. A small smile breaks out on his lips and he sits next to you handing you ice wrapped in two towels. “You would’ve come to me anyway. Even if we weren’t there. Right?”

“Probably yes. I dropped my keys and the trains stopped by now.” You put ice on your face. Gently. It hurts nonetheless.

“Probably.” He mocks you. And then silence feigns over you as he spreads cream for bruising between his palms.

It’s an unusual silence full of words and noise. Neither of you disturbs it. Each listening and hearing what they need to. You take this as a chance to observe the living room and small bits of kitchen. It’s behind you so you don’t turn and look at it afraid Rindou might find it noisey. He obviously wouldn’t.

“Is this your DJ booth?” You ask pointing at a huge table with what looks like a small laptop, DJ’s setups and so many other things you don’t know the proper name of. “I’ve never heard you using it. I bet you can hear it from my apartment”.

He turns around looking at and you find his gaze amusing. He looks at it like a man in love. Then an annoyed expression where his blonde eyebrows are furrowed and lips shut tight grace his features. “It’s because Ran is not allowing me to bring my friends home. Says we are too loud. He only likes it when Kakucho or Sanzu are here. He is not even letting me bring girls home. Says there are love hotels across Tokyo for a reason.” You laugh and your laugh is contagious because in a couple of minutes Rindou laughs too. It is rare to hear him laugh so wholeheartedly. He is usually most reserved and tries to keep everything to himself. You always wondered if it has to do something with how he was raised and how his older brother affected him? Keeping emotions stocked up inside yourself isn’t a biggie. The problem starts when they are too much and with them you too are getting too much.

To Rindou a way to loosen up and let go is a fight. You suspect just as much, but he never says it out loud. It’s an awful thing to say, he believes.

“Do you mind lifting your shirt up a bit? I warmed the cream for you.”

You do as he asks.

The situation would’ve been awkward would it be insinuated under different circumstances, but neither of you twists the meaning of what he is doing. He just tends to your wounds. In a very moderate and tame way. This is how you learn that despite his harshness and violent commitments, Rindou is a very kind - soft-hearted for his people even - person. It’s a shame you think of him like this only now when he was being like this all the time.

When everything is set and done, Rindou brings you a pillow and a patched velvet blanket. The blanket looks out of his style. All bright with knitted flowers it’s like a white spot was placed on Malevich’s “Black Square”. You realise, there are a lot of details and things you don’t know about him. Today’s events, however damaging they are, bring you closer to each other. Another milestone. And you finally met his brother.

Speaking of whom.

“Would your brother be okay?”

Your sudden question takes him by surprise. He goes to the kitchen and puts the kettle on the stove. He intends to make a green tea for both of you. It will help him calm his nerves down and hopefully ease your headache and stress. The wave of it still hadn’t hit you. It is always the same for most people going through traumatic events. We all postpone the inevitable, bottle up emotions inside us, and on the second day or third week - it doesn't really matter when - do we accept that whatever we went through was real and valid. It happened and we need to live it through one more time before we let it go.

For some people, like Rindou, it never goes away. It builds him. It becomes one with him.

He hopes it won't happen to you.

He hopes you eventually forget all about it.

“Yeah. He is Ran Haitani.” You are yet to comprehend the meaning of the weight Haitani surname carries around Tokyo. Gangs, criminals, delinquents and their world is still uncrossed territory. Whatever you know you know from Rindou and your best friend. Both don’t say much. “Those who attacked you, did they want something else from you too? Did they try to do anything?”

Rindou settles a hot water pot and two cups on the table in front of you. Inside the cups there is dried tea. It smells delicious. Calming and reassuring.

“No. Even if they wanted to, I ran away before they could.” You lie. The print of the hand of the other man on your thigh is one of the few things you could recall. “By the way, these shower gel and shampoo you have, they smell amazing. I’ll buy the same.”

Squinting his eyes, he leans towards you and putting his hand on your head brings it closer to him so he can smell it. “I swear… Don’t tell Ran about it. He is already more cocky than he should be.” He sits back, relaxing on a plush sofa. “Mine is good too. It’s like a…”

“Like a mint.” You tease him.

He scowls. “Drink your tea and try to get some sleep.”

You bite another smile to yourself and do as he says.

Before you fall asleep you see those mesmerising lights of Tokyo.

You remind yourself to draw them.

part 16.

You and Rindou fall asleep before Ran comes home.

It’s almost dawn. The sky is shrugging off the black of the night and dresses in pretty pink, yellow and baby blue. In the city, one needs to go somewhere high to meet the sunrise or sunset. In Tokyo there are numerous locations for city viewing that usually attracts tourists. Because of that Ran hasn’t been to any of them. He thinks, going out for stargazing or to watch sunset or sunrise is stupid, anyway. He prefers to stay in and sleep.

He doesn’t like to be up all night either, but now, returning home he looks up at the sky and for the first time in his life, he might agree he was wrong. It’s gor-ge-ous.

The baton in his right hand is stained with blood. At first when he arrived at the alley where you were supposedly assaulted he got disappointed. No one was there. Drops of blood and your keys along with other stuff like lip balm, spiral hair tie and empty wallet with discount cards and coupons proved to him that he has not been mistaken. It was exactly where everything happened. Just no one was there anymore.

Carefully he picked everything up, checking twice, just so he didn’t miss something. Then, Ran called Sanzu. If you ever need to find someone, Sanzu is your choice.

He and Sanzu found them in an hour. They begged for forgiveness, but Ran was so tired and Sanzu was already so high. Nothing they could’ve said would be of any help. By the end of it all, they gave all the money they took from you and even more. Ran made sure they apologised enough. Pity, you were too far away to hear.

Now, the solemn apartment greets him with background noise only TV could make and Rindou’s soft snoring. Ran takes his shoes off, neatly puts them in the shoe box, places your bag on top of it and goes straight to the bathroom. It reeks of blood and his shampoo. On the tile floor lays your bloody dress. It’s pretty and stylish. Not too girly in his opinion and he likes it, but thinks you chose just the worst day to wear a beige short dress.

He lifts your dress and throws it in the basket where they store their dirty clothes. Doing so has a strange feeling to it. It shouldn’t be that natural. He should be weirded out by your presence in his sanctuary where he is at his most vulnerable and he knows you are here because he feels tiny little needles poking at his body.

Maybe he is just tired.

Or maybe - and Ran is sure it is the real reason - there was something so gut wrenching sweet about your face covered in blood under the neon sign of a convenience store, it was all he could think of since.

The immediate attraction he sensed towards you was now giving him hard times. You were Rindou’s friend. No. You were a very good friend of Rindou and while Ran couldn’t know if his brother liked you - like liked liked you - he could clearly tell that he cared about you so much he didn’t want you to meet Ran.

He fills the bathtub and slides into hot water. His skin is burning but it is a pleasant feeling. From the bathroom he can’t hear if he woken you or Rindou and he hopes he didn’t. He doesn’t have any energy to talk or look presentable or do anything really. What he desires is to fall asleep right here in the bathroom in warm hugs of water. He wishes someone could hug his tired brain the same way.

On his way to his room he can see the glimpse of you. He stops. It’s funny how you sleep where he slept not so long ago today and just now he was taking a bath where you had been taking it. Too, not so long ago.

He shakes his head.

Sometimes he thinks about the weirdest shit.

It’s crazy.

part 17.

Rindou wakes up first. He lets you sleep well past afternoon and when you open your eyes and emerge in his room he gives you back your bag and keys to your apartment.

He says he can’t find your dress anywhere.

He asks how you feel.

“I feel like my body was put through a meat grinder.” You shrug. “Other than that it’s fine. I am gonna go home now and prepare something to eat. You and your brother are welcome to crash at my place later.”

“Ran would appreciate it.”

You nod at him. With a bag in your hands you go home.

part 18.

It’s peculiar how yesterday evening another you was going out of your apartment and now this different version of you crosses threshold again like it’s nothing. You hang your key by the screw near the door, you take your shoes off, sit your bag on the backless stool right by the entrance and go inside.

You don’t lock your door. You doubt bad luck would strike you twice. And to be honest after what happened you don’t feel afraid at all. [Not that you were before.]

The image of night Tokyo is still in front of your eyes and it jumps in your heart alive demanding to be painted right this second. It’s very difficult to tame your creative urges, but you do your best and go straight to your bathroom. To shower and see how much bruising has progressed.

In the pale white light, with purple splotches and scratches your body looks different. It’s you and at the same time it’s not. You observe your reflection closely trying not to miss any detail. You want to remember this version of you. Harmed, but not beaten. But all there is is a strong sense of alienation. You lift your right arm up and the person in front of you does the same. You do the same with your left arm, then you stand on your tiptoes and then you jump and then you turn turn turn until your head feels fuzzy and you fall to the ground.

Afraid, you sneak a glance at the mirror. What would you do if there’s a person in the reflection? The mirror is clean. There is nothing that shouldn’t be there.

You let out a breath.

Everything is good.

Everything is going to be okay.

part 19.

The washing machine is half way through its programme when there's a knock at your door.

“Oi. Why didn’t you lock your door?” It’s Rindou. You can hear him taking his shoes off and making his way to the kitchen. By now he knows your apartment like the back of his hand. “You should be more careful.”

You shake your head, disapproving. “I doubt someone would break into my apartment.” In your hands you form a ball of rice. Large handful. Your already made onigiri lined up on the kitchen table look perfect to Rindou. You however see every bit of essential rice poking out. You sigh and add. “Besides, what would they find here? My canvases? My pastels? My collection of coloured pencils? I don’t even own a TV.”

“You.” He deadpans, stealing a mouthful of shredded tuna mixed with mayo. “Just lock your door. That’s all. Two fillings? Is this one salmon teriyaki?” The spoon he found in tuna goes all the way to the - indeed - salmon with teriyaki sauce and spring onions. He doesn't bat an eye that he is doing something wrong when he puts the spoon back. Instead he looks around. Almost anxiously. He raises up from the table and goes all the way to the pots sitting on the stove. WIth one swift motion he lifts lids and checks what’s inside. He gasps. “Did you make rice with eggs and spam? It’s Ran’s comfort food. He would eat anything now though. He hasn’t had a proper meal in days.”

“He doesn’t seem like a person who would skip a meal.” You mumble, contemplating between taking a new spoon or continue using the one Rindou had so nonchalantly put in his mouth, devouring onigiri fillings.

“I said a proper meal. He was surviving on ready-to-gos.”

“Still better than salt and vinegar chips, I guess.” You shoot him a teasing smile which he warmly accepts with a mocking scowl.

You choose not to change the spoon.

While you continue to prepare dinner Rindou disappears somewhere inside your apartment. Judging by his heavy loud footsteps he is in your bedroom.

There is only one thing he could do there and it’s checking your sketchbook. Earlier today after the quick shower and getting laundry set up you sat down on your bed wrapped in a large towel that felt like a cloud and drew for an hour. Creativity, that art provided you, eased your mind. Soon enough the ache in your mind and body started to fade. In that urban drawing you were sketching, events of yesterday never happened. There, you were never assaulted. You were still on the train going from Kagurazaka to Roppongi. Thinking about nothing and feeling everything.

There, you still haven’t met Ran.

Why you think of him at that moment is confusing. There is no logic behind it. Something somewhere inside of you just brought his being out. Thinking about it, you didn’t even have a chance to properly introduce yourself to each other. You never planned on meeting him so you never thought about how it would go, but still there’s a hint of disappointment that the first time he saw you, you were covered in blood.

The painting in your lap is unfinished. It’s half way through. Or even less. Urban sketches demand a lot of time because of all the tiny details they consist of. Pursing your lips, you look at the drawing, not sure if you like it or want to rip it apart. Abrupt throw - which is Ran Haitani - halt the whole process to an end. You won’t draw a single line today. That much you understand.

Now, sitting on your bed, gazing at your sketchbook, Rindou for whatever reason it may be recognizes not the Tokyo or its lights or its small alleys, but his older brother. Yes, it’s buildings. Yes, it’s street lamps. Yes, it’s hundreds of windows and lanterns of the small alley where in the morning merchants will sell fresh fish, vegetables and street-food. And yet, all he sees is Ran. It’s so evident it knocks him off. He almost has trouble breathing and he so wants to ask you if you did it deliberately. Knowing what you are doing and still doing it on purpose.

He is afraid you might find it stupid because it’s a landscape. And more than anything Rindou doesn’t like to put himself in a situation where someone would think he is stupid. He hates the feeling.

Silently, he closes your sketchbook and places it on your nightstand where he notices a manga. It’s the second volume of “Kagen no Tsuki” by Ai Yazawa. He grabs it and brings it with him to the kitchen where he sits across from you. You are still making onigiri.

“Don’t read it. It’s a really sad story. I cried for days. And every time I reread it, I still cry like the first time.” You warned him noticing the manga in his hands. “I am almost done. Will your brother come soon or do you wanna go fetch him? The food will go cold.”

The reminder of Ran coming from your mouth unsettles him. There is no reason for him to feel this way, but he still does. He clenches the book so much his knuckles go white. If you notice you don’t say anything. “Why do you keep reading it time after time if it’s sad and makes you cry?”

“I guess I love sad stories.” You say simply, licking your lips after. You finish the last onigiri, put it on the plate and rise from the chair. Your body aches, but you stretch anyway. “And it’s Ai Yazawa, Rindou. You can’t help, but return to her stories.” All of a sudden, a thought that you would never find him stupid, flashes through his mind and eventually he relaxes.

The book slips from his grip.

part 20.

Ran is wearing a dark grey loose knitted sweater - it has the same colour as pavement outside your building - and a pair of baggy black sweats. His hair is tied into two neatly done braids. If you thought Rindou has long hair it’s just because you haven’t seen his brother’s yet. Yellow tails of his braids reach just below his thorax.

They are probably hella long undone.

Ran looks cosy and sleepy. His downturned eyes scan the room almost curiously, but there’s no lively emotions just yet. Until he stumbles at you and Rindou. The corner of his lips tug upward. Just a bit. Then his lips form a shape of “o” as he sees Rindou helping you set the table. Something he hasn’t seen in… forever? Domesticity was a foreign concept to them both.

“The door was unlocked.” He says, leaning on the countertop with his elbow.

Ran looks as if he hasn’t spent a single thought on his looks and came right away as he was. Rolled out of bed and emerged in your apartment. This however couldn’t be true. You’ve seen the enormous variety of shampoo, gel showers and other cosmetic necessities [totally unnecessary for Rindou though] in their bathroom.

Hearing about the door you shoot Rindou a smug glance which immediately sparked an interest in Ran. He has never been with you two together and now seeing you interact so smoothly, in a familiar way, naturally created a lot of assumptions. Were you and Rindou that close?

Despite yesterday's question he could now admit that there was not an ounce of romance between you and his younger brother. Ran almost felt sorry for asking.

“I didn’t lock it because I am here and Ran was coming too.” The tone of his voice is flat like he is explaining the most obvious thing in the world to a two year old. You raise your eyebrows at him and grin, handing Rindou a disk with different kobachis on top of it. It has pickles, onions, and sauces.

“First of all, he could perfectly open it even with it being locked. Secondly, do you always cook so much or is it just because we are here?”

He wants to say something else, but Rindou is quick to interrupt him. “Nah. She’s always like this. She just likes cooking.” You nod at this because it’s true. You do like cooking. Very much. “She also likes drawing. And reading. And flowers.”

These all are true too and you are amazed that Rindou is quick to tell all of your interests. It’s either you are blant or he is very observant and caring.

Unlike his younger brother, Ran doesn’t wander off around your apartment. He stays at your side at all times quietly observing you. The truth is in the small details and that’s why he doesn’t take his eyes off you, noticing every single little one. Those that stood out and those that were well hidden. His act is impulsive and he is not very well aware of it. Rindou is and he thinks that this is why he wanted to keep you off his world. To Rindou it’s like his brother is tainting you.

At the table they sit across from you. By this time it’s mostly you and Ran speaking. He properly introduces himself and you do the same. Even if there’s no need for you too because Ran is not hiding that he heard about you before. Still it’s a polite thing to do. So you tell him your name, your age and that you came from Obihiro to Tokyo to study law. He jokes that he is good at breaking the law and you both laugh while Rindou rolls his eyes.

“Did you paint it?” Ran asks, showing the picture behind you. It’s an oil painting of Kyoto Temple. There is a lot of green from the trees in front, but even with that the painting looks solemn. Grey stormy skies and dark facade of the temple carry something ominous in it.

“No. My late grandma painted it. I don’t use oil paints. I actually never got to work with them so I don’t know how to control them. I am more into dry materials. And I’ve never been to Kyoto.”

“Like pencils?” Ran is on his second portion of rice with spam. It’s delicious and though he is not a big on eating like Rindou, he can’t stop himself. Everything you cooked melts on his tongue. “I wanna see your drawings.”

“Yeah. Like pencils, pastels, charcoal. Something like that.”

“Since when do you know anything about art?” Asks Rindou. He puts his chopsticks aside and steals onigiri. You assume he took the tuna one, but you can’t be sure because when you were arranging them, Rindou volunteered to help, then mixed up the plates and put everything together. A total mess.

Ran shakes his head as if he is laughing. No sound comes out of his mouth though. He turns to his brother, eyeing him. “I don’t know anything. But! I like fashion and contrary to you Rin I have this natural feeling for…” He stops talking and carefully chooses his next words. “For beautiful things.”

Rindou groans in frustration and covers his face with his hands. Ran laughs. For real this time. His laugh is elegant and light. You can’t decide if it suits him or not. Ran is like a closed book. You can’t read him and you have no idea what is going on inside of his brain. He doesn’t seem like a dangerous person to you and despite knowing that in fact he is pretty much dangerous you have this feeling - call it a premonition - that he won’t ever hurt you. Nonetheless his closeness bothers you. Not to the extent of keeping you on your toes, of course. But still, it’s not the most pleasant thing.

While they bicker you slip out of the table and go to your bedroom. There you grab your recent sketchbook and some older ones. You also bring out the last canvas you’ve done. On it is a half-way finished forest with a shrine. The only coloured part of this drawing is a forest. Everything else is still a sketch. You think you might return to it today. If you aren’t that tired, that’s all.

In the living room Ran polishes off what seems to be another portion of fried rice and spam. Rindou didn’t lie when he said his brother was hungry. They both raise their eyes at you when you enter the room. Munching on the food, Ran is quick to stand up and offer you some help. This is a mere polite gesture from him. Few sketchbooks and a canvas aren’t that heavy. You and him both know that.

And so does Rindou.

He also knows his brother well enough to understand that this action was spontaneous. Something Ran wasn’t really expecting of himself either.

It’s already past ten when Ran finishes looking through your works. He doesn’t compliment them or actually say anything at all. His long fingers skip page after page going through months worth of drawings. When something catches his attention he rests his sleepy eyes on it and studies it for some minutes. Besides furrowing his eyebrows and biting his lower lip, Ran's face remains impassive. Once again you can’t even imagine what goes on inside of him.

Does he like your art or not? Anxiety crawls inside of you.

“When I am rich enough, like a multimillionaire kinda rich, I’ll buy every single one of your art.” Ran says it without raising his eyes at you so he doesn’t catch how you nervously swallow, your throat doing a bulb motion, fingers locked. Instantly after his word the tension evaporates from your body. Why were you so jittery? Opinions of other people rarely touch you in an important way. Let alone about your art. “What is this drawing about?”

Between his thumb and an index finger is your latest sketch. The one you started today. You tilt your head so you can see it better. As if trying to see it through his eyes. [You obviously fail at it.] You take a deep breath before explanation pours from your lips - or your heart. Rindou next to Ran stiffens. He is too interested in this particular sketch. For a different reason than Ran. “When I was returning home yesterday I took the train and I saw this view outside. The train was going slow so I could take a mental picture and I just liked it, I guess. You know, all those lights and side streets, stars. Looked quite memorable.”

He hums presumably agreeing and positions the sketchbook with the drawing on the table, leaning it against your glass full of grape soda. Then, Ran puts his elbows on his knees and props his chin on his intertwined fingers; they look like a bridge. He observes the drawing delicately before he sighs and turns his head to you. “It reminds me of something, but I can’t tell what it is. Can I have it?”

It’s out of character for him to ask permission when the whole evening he was doing what he wanted and giving dismissive orders.

“It’s not done yet, but when I finish I’ll give it to you.”

“Wait a damn second. Why did you never offer me some of your drawings? I want the one with cats.” Rindou is quick to reach out for the old sketchbook of yours. He gives the impression to have memorised their insides by heart as almost immediately he finds what he was looking for. It’s an A4 vertically turned sketch of various cats in the grass. He angles it and pokes at it. “This one.”

“I never offered because you didn’t ask.” You laugh. “You can have it, Rindou. Do you want me to give you a frame for it? I think I have one just in the right size.”

The rest of the evening goes steady and slowly. You cut out the ‘cats sketch’ out of the sketchbook and frame it; indeed you have a frame that fits like a glove. Or does the sketch fit the frame? You have no clue. It doesn’t really matter when for the first time you feel so calm and at peace.

None of you mention yesterday’s event.

None of the boys eye your peeking through your spaghetti strap tank top bruise. Neither of them addresses your slightly discoloured face and an evident rip of the skin under your nose.

They go home at two in the morning.

You give them remaining onigiri for breakfast.

part 21.

You sit on your sofa, legs prompt under you, pencil in hands when you hear the doorbell ring. It’s dark outside, even though it’s barely five in the evening. Winter is almost here. And day by day it gets colder and colder.

Apparently, the chill air eats the daylight away. The allegory appears funny to you.

Today you missed the classes and declined the invitation of your best friend to go on a double date with her brother to Hamarikyu Gardens. You said you might have caught a cold yesterday on your way home. You haven’t told her about the assault and you don’t think you will.

Nothing really bad happened and she would worry in vain. Right or wrong, it is what you believe in the moment. So you keep your mouth sealed tight.

The bell rings the second time. Impatiently. You sense that if you won’t open the door immediately the person on the other side of it would break in regardless. Groaning, you stand up from the sofa and pad to the entrance. Pencil and sketchbook forgotten on the floor.

It’s Ran. When you open the door without asking who it is on the other side you see him, wearing a light coat over a green sweater and black jeans. His outfit looks expensive and well composed. In his hands he holds two paper bags. Those are from the nearest supermarket. He grins when he sees you.

“Do you know how to cook tonkatsu?”

“Did you buy eggs?”

“Yes. Pork, eggs, flour, cabbage, some sauces…” He lowers his eyes down and peeks inside the bags. “Oh! Sangaria Hajikete for you. Mushrooms too. Green onion. I think I forgot noodles.”

“I have noodles and rice at home. Come on in.”

He grins again when you invite him inside your apartment and you can’t help it, but smile back. He hangs his coat near your jacket, takes off his sneakers and follows you to the kitchen where he places bags on the countertop. You help him take out groceries noticing midway how relaxed he is. The confidence might run in Haitani’s genes because Rindou is exactly the same.

As if reading your mind - you can’t be sure he doesn’t possess such power - he informs you on Rindou’s whereabouts. “Rin is with Kaku at the gym. You know those guys that would rather live at the gym than at their house? Those are them.”

“Rindou told me he likes exercising. I mean at least it’s healthy, right?” You take the meat out of the container and rinse it in the sink. From the corner of your eyes you see Ran reaching out for the plate where you could put the meat later. Somehow it didn’t cross your mind. “Thank you. And what do you like to do in your free time?”

“Sleeping. Napping. Shopping.” He helps you lay the meat by bringing the plate closer to you. “And barging into apartments and making girls cook for me.”

“Funny.” You do actually find it funny. Not as a poor joke itself, but rather as a lame excuse for flirting. If he even considers it flirting. “Okay, now while I'm doing the meat would you take over chopping vegetables? It's not hard at all.”

“Do I look like a person who can’t cut vegetables?”

He raises his eyebrows at you and for the first time you notice their colour. Blonde. You almost ask him about why he decided to dye his hair half-half, but hold yourself back. Even if he welcomed himself into your house, even if he is acting as if you know each other for a long time and even if he is Rindou’s brother, you can’t just ask him whatever you want.

Ran, of course, thinks otherwise.

He thinks the silence you keep is because of his eye colour.

“They are amethyst like. Rindou’s are more on the lavender side.”

“What?

“Why were you staring at me?”

“Your eyebrows are blonde. I was thinking you would look good with blonde hair.”

His eyes go wide and then he grins for the third time this day around you. Ran shakes his head in amusement and fishes out of the drawer long silver knife. He checks it with his finger to see if it’s sharp enough. He takes his time to choose the right knife. One might think he has an opinion on them. You give him the cutting board. He probably knew where they were stored too. You are not worried about it. He might have memorised everything from yesterday.

“I don’t think I’ll ever go fully blonde again.” He confesses after some time. You turn to him waiting for what he has to say. Ran’s full focus is on cutting green onions - you must admit he does it easily, every chop is neat and of the same size - when he resumes. “When I killed that guy my hair was blonde and long. They shaved everything off at juvy. I hated it. Gladly my hair grows out fast.”

There’s almost nothing to say without probing further on this unsettling topic. Rindou told you about it just once and then you’ve never returned to it. There was no need and it was evident that Rindou didn’t like to talk about it. Nor did he particularly speak a lot about their days at juvy. Everything was brief. But one thing you remember clearly. Rindou said they killed them when Ran said that he did it.

Despite your attempt to remain neutral you frown.

“Rindou told you we did it together, didn’t he? He always presents it like we did it together, but in fact it was me. I knocked out the captain with one blow and then I killed the vice. You couldn’t recognize his face. It was Rin who told me to stop. All he did was just hold him down and maybe dislocate one or two joints. Rin is hella strong.”

“Yeah he likes to prove it all the time. Opening all jars, bottles. You know.”

In fact, Rindou is a caring person and he does all of this not to validate himself, but to help. Nonetheless, the warmth spreads in his chest everytime you tease him that he likes to appear strong.

But today it’s not about Rindou. It’s about Ran and so he asks the obvious. “Aren’t you scared of me?”

“No. Why would I?” You bring out three small bowls and fill them with flour, eggs and breadcrumbs. Thoughtful Ran brought them made so you didn’t need to crumb the bread. “And my point still stands. I think you’d look good with blonde hair.”

She’s unbelievable, he thinks, and the feeling he had the night before only intensifies. This small premonition of love haunts him, but try all he wants, he can’t shake it off. It’s already made a nest inside of him. Like a little lost bird who neglects his lame excuse of a heart.

“I have old pictures. I’ll show them to you.”

“Sounds good. Now grate the cabbage. I’ll deal with the meat.”

He only hums in response.

In thirty minutes everything is ready. Ran is more helpful in the kitchen than Rindou, who leaves you alone and spreads on the couch going through your manga or book, is. It might be because Ran is older and he needed to take care of his younger brother all this time. It’s unknown since when they started to live on their own and where their parents are and if they had them in their lives at all. Rindou had never breached the topic so naturally you thought that he avoided it. Those memories got to be the most painful ones.

You set the table alone. It’s a monotonous task. Bring the cutlery, plates, place all the food and glasses. Nothing too difficult. It bores you a bit. From the living room you can hear Ran speaking on the phone with Rindou. He told you he’d give him a call to tell him everything is ready. His voice is muffled and you have no desire to eavesdrop on them. Privacy is privacy even inside your apartment.

The steam coming off tonkatsu makes it appear all the more delicious. You contemplate stealing a piece to try if it’s as tasty as it looks, but assume it will ruin the whole composition of nicely laid out meat you spent a good ten minutes arranging. Shredded cabbage seems fresh and savoury too. You wonder if you are just too hungry or it’s been ages since you’ve had tonkatsu and that’s why it looks so delicious.

You are glad Ran stopped by.

“You know how I wanna name this sketch?” He stands at the entrance of the kitchen - a place where the living room and small dinery are connected; a safe-zone - holding the sketchbook you left on the floor when he rang the doorbell. “Koi no yokan.”

“A premonition of love?”

All of a sudden it seems fitting. The best name anyone could think of. Honest and raw. Just like your sketch. Just like you. Just like Ran. In front of each other without embellishments.

“Yeah.” He nods, coming closer with a sketchbook still in his hands. His eyes widened in surprise as if he wasn’t preparing dinner with you. “It smells too good. Let’s eat. Rin said he will be late. They just started on the second set of whatever the name of that machine was.”

At the dinner table you sit in front of each other and just like yesterday Ran devours everything he lays his eyes upon. You both chat freely and effortlessly. It’s you who does most of the speaking and he who asks all the questions. Ran learns a lot about you. He discovers he loves it even.

At last, he asks. “Do you wanna know what happened to those guys?”

“No, but thank you. You didn’t need to do that, but yet you still did.”

“Sanzu was with me.”

“Who?”

“Nevermind. Maybe I’ll introduce you one day. Do you like burgers? We could make some tomorrow. What time will you be at home?”

“I am not planning to go anywhere. So anytime. And yes I love burgers.”

He winks at you. “Noted. I’ll bring everything you don’t need to buy anything.”

Smile graces your face and you take a sip of grape soda he bought just for you.

It tastes more delicious than ever. You can’t help, but wonder why.

part 22.

Of course, the very next day Ran is at your door again. As promised.

He carries grocery bags and behind his rather broad shoulders, you can see Rindou’s blond hair pulled up in a messy bun peeking at you. Ran grins, pushing forward as he welcomes himself in your apartment. Rindou rolls his eyes, fascinated at both - how cosy and comfortable Ran is with you just after your second meeting and how cosy and comfortable you are with him.

But then, there’s nothing too unanticipated. Ran’s charisma and charms are well-known all over Tokyo. He is very handsome too which only ever worked in his favour. And, more importantly in Rindou’s opinion, Ran’s is not gloomy. If anything, his usual expression is a beautiful mixture of melancholy and sadness that seems to make every girl fawn over Ran.

Not that Rindou ever had any problems with girls. He is Haitani after all. They will always remain popular.

What you don’t know and haven't seen yet is that Ran is an absolutely vicious person. He can be cruel without limits. A lot of times, in fights, it’s Rindou who stops him. He believes - and rightfully so - he is the only one who can. Once raged and challenged Ran doesn’t know the limits.

Not that Rindou is any better.

They just maintain control over each other like brothers should.

After burgers, comes mentaiko pasta and after it ramen and then gyoza - which Ran surprisingly can seal very well and Rindou once again for the thousand-ish times in his life feels lesser than his almighty older brother is - then some other western dish and then it’s just an insanely delicious food carousel neither of you can remember.

Once Ran brought some old photographs he had. Looking at them Rindou had a vague disorienting ache that transmitted that he was looking at strangers. There were their old friends. Them before juvie. Other people and the same places in Roppongi that now were again theirs. All his life everything Rindou was dreaming was to be like Ran and then own Roppongi, a place they called home. But as Ran passes pictures to you, explaining what is forever imprinted on them and who all those people are [some of them are dead despite being so young; and now they’ll forever remain so] Rindou feels sudden abruption of everything he holds dear to him.

Was it all really worth it? Does he like what he does? Aren’t all his goals and envisions for the future of those small bulky boy in the picture, but not him as of now? Would he always follow Ran?

Yes. Yes. No. Yes.

He chants as a mantra.

One day, late at night, after another delicious dinner at your place, Rindou is sprawling on the sofa when Ran wrapped in a towel shows up from the bathroom. They look at each other and the excruciating thoughts going on inside Rindou’s head are so evident they appear to Ran like neon signs. Bleeding. Ran loves his little brother so he asks first knowing that Rindou would never dare to approach the topic first. At least not today. “What?”

“What do you mean what?” Fends off Rindou sitting up. His glasses slide down over his nose to his lips and Ran bites down a laugh.

His little brother. His own flesh and blood. “I know what you want to ask so ask away and stop tormenting yourself.”

“What is the point of me voicing it if you know what I wanna ask anyway?”

Ran sighs and sits opposite of him, spreading his arms on the sofa’s back and crossing his legs. He rests his head on one of his arms, tilting it at an awkward angle that just looking at him makes you feel uncomfortable. “Because I want to hear it from you.”

“Can you promise me not to do anything with her?”

Who is her goes without saying. It’s you.

Before answering Ran shrugs, licking his insanely perfect white teeth and tilting his head backwards, he closes his eyes, sighing. “Why?”

“Because we don’t have a lot of trust-worthy nice people around us, Ran. I don’t want to end up choosing between you and her, because the choice is fucking obvious. Let’s keep it friendly coded.” Rindou sounds desperate. His words are crude and raw and honest. He calls out to his brother, already knowing, that whatever plea he invokes it’s lost in the vast void of Ran’s feelings. Rindou is confused, but he wouldn't be who he is today, if not for his ability to stand his ground. So he takes a deep breath and continues. “Listen, Ran, do you think it’s safe to date? Like we are not what we were before when it was just fucking around and punching randoms outside. Tenjuku is serious. Izana is fucking serious. Shion is a mad fucking dog and Kanji is crazy. Sanzu is only behaving when he sniffs a line. Out of them only Kaku and Koko are the only…”

“Rin.” Ran raises a hand to stop his brother. He sits straight and for a very long time looks at Rindou without saying anything. He searches for the right words and then his mind is going blank because all he knows is that there’s something rotten inside of you. And Ran wants to carve it out. He saw it the first time you two met face to face the night you were assaulted. From that day all he wants is to tug at your insides, clean what hides behind your ribs, reach your soul and make it his. Make you pure and perfect again. He has no idea how to communicate all of this to Rindou so he says the most blatant shit neither of them believes, but they both eat it up anyway. “I wasn’t planning on doing anything. And most definitely I wasn’t planning on dating her or anybody else.”

“Good.” Rindou purses his lips and his face loses all its colour. His tan is not helping him a bit. “Thank you.”

They sit not moving or speaking for a little bit, settling in a comfortable usual silence. Ran looks at the table in front of him and Rindou stares at the huge floor to ceiling window. He can’t see shit from his place. Just a bit of neon lights and the building across. Better than nothing. Those simple things keep his mind occupied until he hears Ran standing up. He turns his head in his direction and catches a towel slipping down Ran’s hips. Rindou screams.

“Why. Is. This. Shit. Always happening to you? Are you doing it on purpose?”

“Why are you always reacting like you’ve never seen it? We go to sento every other week.”

“Doesn’t mean I wanna see your dick! It was a fucking jumpscare!”

Ran grins. “Big and scary?”

“Don’t be fucking stupid. Go put some clothes on.”

The atmosphere shifts and suddenly everything is back to normal.

They both love each other very much.

part 23.

The desire not to let his world incorporate you fails. The fall is sudden, not expected at all and Rindou thinks it was him who jinxed you all, because once you get obsessed with something - in both ways, negative and positive - it will for sure crawl its way into your life.

That’s why when Ran points at your back asking Rindou if his eyes are not lying to him and it’s really you, he is not surprised. Perhaps he was even expecting something like this to happen. Just not so soon.

It’s the middle of December. The weather is so cold and windy you feel it in your bones. At least it’s not snowing and roads are walkable. Not that Rindou or Ran walked. They both arrived in Ran’s new Honda NSX-R he bought second-hand not long ago. Though he never cared for cars, his white slick Honda became his obsession. He doted on it more than he ever had on any other thing. Besides Rindo, that’s it.

The small, but still spacious club in Roppongi is full with people. Loud music hits every wall and then gets back to the middle of the dance floor, shaking everything that gets in the way. The floor is constantly vibrating and the smell of alcohol is so sharp it intoxicates even those who aren’t drinking, boosting the wild environment. People dance and drink, most of them being underaged, but because they are part of one or the other gang, they are in.

You are not the one to complain though. You got in only because of your best friend’s brother.

From where they stand - a VIP zone - Rindou can’t really see if it’s you, but his gut feeling tells him yes. He knows for a fact that you were supposed to go out today and now he regrets he didn’t ask for details. Maybe somehow he would've talked you out of it or not show up himself. Half of the Tenjiku are here and what is the worst of all S-62 generation too. Except for Izana, but he was never big on clubs or parties.

Would it be too impolite to not greet you? Would you even notice that? Have you noticed them at all? Neither of them can say. Communicating only with their eyes, Ran urges his brother to follow him. He is both intrigued at what are you doing at famously delinquents only club - not that ordinary normal people are never here - and why are you doing chatting up Toman members. So he pushes forward to you through the crowd. Rindou is closely behind him.

When they approached your group, the smile from everybody’s faces vanished. Haitani brothers are never good news. It seems everybody knows that, but you, because you grin and a bit tipsy you give your hand out to Ran. He laughs, his laugh is velvety as usual, and shakes your hand for longer than needed. Now everyone's eyes are on you.

“I didn’t know you would be here!” You say surprised, clearly happy to see him. Much to his delight and your friends' confusion. “Is Rindou here too?”

“Yeah, of course he is. I saw you from there.” Ran slightly turns his body and shows you where he and Rindou have been up most of the night. You listen to him attentively, focusing really hard on what he says and lean a bit closer when you can’t hear him. “... decided to say hi. For how long are you gonna stay here?”

The answer is lost on your tongue because Rindou, clearly pissed, shows up right in front of you. His cheeks are slightly pink. It might be from alcohol or from the heat of enclosed space with so many people in it. That you too can feel.

Rindou waves at you and glares at Ran. You laugh at their interaction. You’ve never been out with them both before rather than at your convenience store near the house and seeing them behave exactly like you are used to when they are at your place or you are at theirs is pretty relaxing.

“Those are my friends. My best friend is here and this is her brother.” You introduce your company having no idea that they already know each other. “And this is Ran and Rindou. We are neighbours and really good friends.”

Neither of them shake hands or smile at each other. The tension that fills the air is tangible. It’s slicky and warm. You want it gone. Puzzled you look from Ran to your best friend’s brother and then to your best friend who shrugs her shoulders. Lastly you look at Rindou whose eyes are not angry anymore, but sorrowful. You frown and step closer to him, wanting to ask what’s going on, but Ran speaks first.

“It was nice to meet you. You all have fun.”

With that he waves at you and disappears into the crowd. Rindou, not saying a word, goes after him, throwing a haste look at you.

He thinks what just happened was fucking embarassing.

part 24.

This club is a neutral territory - it’s in Roppongi so informally it’s controlled by the Haitani brothers - but misunderstandings still happen.

Neither of your friends said much to you after Rindou and Ran left. Two questions asked were how did you know them and if you were close. That’s all. The party continued and the gloomy face your best friend’s brother wore for a short time dissolved under the influence of alcohol.

You tried to search for either of the brothers scanning with your eyes the dance floor, the bar and the DJ booth. Nothing. The VIP zone was closed off and no matter at what angle you looked you couldn’t see past its dark curtains.

Sudden encounter left you with a bitter taste. You felt like you did something wrong. Said something that you weren’t supposed to say or acted in an unexpected way that everybody hated. The cruel flavour of iron is strong in your throat. Distress doesn’t depart from you the whole evening.

The fight that happens that night inside of the club is almost fatal. You didn’t see much of it starting, but music comes to a halt and then lights are on and it’s blinding and the shouts and sound of skin being ripped and crushing bones are speaking for themselves. Some people rush out of the doors which causes a massive panic. Somebody is calling the police and then when this fact is made public the panic intensifies.

You freeze clutching your best friend’s hand. She hurriedly speaks to her brother, nodding her head when he responds. There’re shouts from everywhere and people are rushing by you to the exit. Everything and everyone falls to silence when a guy jumps off the stairs to where the fight is happening - in the middle of the dance floor. He is around the same height as Ran and might be the same age or close. What catches your eyes is his tattoo. It goes all the way from his temple to his neck. The V-neck sweater he wears is perhaps on purpose so everyone can see it. Just as the shaved left side of his head.

“It’s Shion Madarame, one of the Heavenly Kings.” Now that it’s so silent you can hear your best friend’s brother whispering it. “We need to get out. It’s gonna get really violent.”

That is when you notice that the entrance is blocked. Nobody’s moving or speaking or perhaps even breathing. Everyone’s attention is on Shion.

“Whatcha you guys think you were fucking doing?” He spits at the floor before pulling out metal brass knuckles. He puts it on his right hand almost teasingly. So lazily, his every move seems to be captured in slow motion. He laughs when he raises his head and sees pure animalistic fear spreading on the faces before him. Adrenaline is kicking high.

Those two guys that started the fight are no longer opponents. They might even forget what they were fighting about.

When Shion without any warning lands a fist to the first guy's chest, the poor creature flies to the wall behind him hitting people standing there. This guy is taller and more muscular than Shion, but still he doesn’t fight back even when Shion straddles him and punches his face. Nobody really does anything. They all watch and watch and watch. Violent smell of blood evaporates every other.

Somebody cries.

The fight - which in all honesty is not a fight at all, but a massacre since no one stops it or intervenes and neither of the boys show any resistance - turns into killing. From where you stand you can’t see the details and now you wonder what those two unlucky boys looked like. You can’t tell and probably none will in two months or so; the damage Shion has done to their face is beyond recognition.

You spot Rindou sitting on the stairs. Ran stands next to him twirling the baton in his hands. He is talking to some guy you see for the first time. They all are unbothered by what’s going on beneath them. Rindou is the only one who intently observes every move of Shion. But it doesn’t seem like he is regretful or anything like that. He scrutinises every move with a purpose of remembering it so he can use it against someone else later. That much is evident.

The guy next to Ran has a buzz cut and huge peculiar scar that you think he might have earned in some fight. Receiving it for sure hurt like hell. It doesn’t make him appear ugly though. This guy looks almost gentle. Especially when he smiles at something Ran said. You wonder what in this situation might seem funny to them, but then you have no clue what they are talking about.

Soon, another guy with long white hair shows up on the stairs. He wears a mask and you can’t see his face, but he seems young. Younger than you. He too is obviously in a gang. Masked as he is, he shoves himself in between Ran and the guy with a scar and says something. Rindou hears it as he turns his head into their direction.

“Shion! That’s enough. Let them be.” Ran gets down the stairs and stands behind Shion’s back who continues punching the guys as if he is not hearing Ran. Probably he is not. The excitement in his body is too much; it clouds every other feeling. “Shion! Stop! Police are on their way. Come on. It’s enough.”

Still, nobody moves. Nobody tries to escape. The next thing you know is Ran raising his baton and the sharp sound of air sliced in two fills the club. He strikes a couple of times. That much you counted, but it got to be more, because blinded with rage Shion throws himself at Ran.

Rindou is quick to assist his brother as well as the guy with the scar. The only one who remains on the stairs is the guy with the mask. You hear the baton working again and then Shion is screaming. Ran laughs.

“Come to your fucking sences, Madarame.” Spits the guy with the scar and then he turns to the crowd. “What are you all still doing there? Get those two to the ER and… Shit!”

His last words are lost in the noise of the police siren and people shouting. Whatever that paralysis was, it's now gone. Everyone is pushing and kicking again. You hold your friend’s hand for dear life. It’s easy to lose each other.

Somebody’s hand is on your shoulder when you are halfway to the exit. You think that someone mistook you or was just grabbing you to remain on their feet. However the person tugs you at them and annoyed you look back to see who it is.

It’s Ran.

He says something and you shake your head indicating that you can’t hear him. Not with what’s going on around you. It’s a mess. He visibly sighs, his chest going up and down. He then steps forward and says something to your best friend’s brother. They exchange some words quickly and then you all are led back from where you came by Ran.

Hand in hand he takes you through the personnel area to the emergency exit.

Outside it’s colder now than when you came. You shiver and he looks at you. His eyes inspect every bit of you as if he wants to make sure you are okay. You are. He seems satisfied by it.

“We all should be going. How did you come here?” He again speaks to the brother of your best friend.

“By car.”

“Good. Get your girl and friends and get going.” Ran turns to the left where his own car is parked in the distance. Your hand still lays in his. Without second thought you go after him.

No one thinks of correcting him that the girl is his sister not his girlfriend. No one cares.

Police sirens are getting closer when your best friend speaks up. “Isn't she coming with us?”

Ran stops, confused, he looks at you and then at your friends as if he doesn’t understand why she is even asking that. “No. We are neighbours. I’ll take her home.”

“Did you even ask her?” It’s your friend’s brother. There’s irritation in his voice. You’ve never heard him speak like that to anyone.

“Are you trying to pull this Toman noble cavalry shit on me now?” You see the baton for the second time today. It has red stains on it. He stretches his hand with it pointing at your friends. “Cause I am really tired and not in the mood to…”

“It’s okay.” You intervene by putting a hand on Ran’s wrist. “It’s okay. I don’t mind going with Ran. I trust him. You have nothing to worry about.”

There’s another smug expression of satisfaction on Ran’s face. His body relaxes and he drops your hand. Without saying anything he lazily goes to his car, unlocking the door for you first. You get inside.

As you pass by your friends you give them a wave and they nod at you.

Everything seems to be okay.

part 25.

After fifteen minutes in Ran’s car you notice that he isn’t in fact taking you home.

You were busy looking at his car, its leather interior, the busy lights of Tokyo and Ran himself.

“I am taking us to my favourite ramen place. It’s a bit too far, but they serve the best shoyu ramen and are open 24/7. Me and Rin are regulars there.” It’s Ran who breaks the silence first. His voice is soft and he is back to being Ran you are used to hanging out with. Confident and firm, and almost a little bit gentle.

“How is Rindou going to get home?” You ask what worries you the most. “Will he be safe?”

“Totally. He’ll stay with Kaku. You probably saw him today. The guy with a scar?”

“Oh. Yes.”

“He got it in an accident when he was a kid. Kakucho is the coolest. He might seem scary, but he is very loyal and even kind.” You stop at the red light and Ran looks over at you, you who is staring at him. “Were you afraid today?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Were you afraid when you met those bastards in the alley?”

“Not really.”

“Not really?”

“Yes.” He is clearly waiting for more explanation, because it’s not normal to not being afraid. Everyone would be afraid. You both understand as much. You sigh, crossing your hands around your chest and straighten up in the seat. You look at the road ahead when you start to explain. “My sister’s boyfriend is in the gang. They aren’t just simple motorbike gangs that are fooling around, throwing punches and you know the rest. They are full on criminals. He got my sister on drugs. She overdosed five times. He got her pregnant too. She aborted the kid. And I’ve seen him and his people doing worse than Shion did to those guys today. These all are not new for me. I’ve seen it before.”

Ran hums. His long fingers caressing the leather of the wheel. He accelerates, rushing forward before traffic lights change. A few cars that are on the streets at this hour irritatedly honk after you. Inside the car the outside world gives the impression of decorations. Nothing seems real. You get this feeling for the second time.

Once on the train and now again. With Ran in his car.

“How’d you know Shion’s name?” Ran asks, his attention again on you. Whatever he was thinking shoved aside.

“Everybody was whispering his name when he jumped on the dance floor. Are you in the same gang?”

“You can say so.”

“And the guy with the mask too?”

“His name is Sanzu and yes he is in Tenjiku too.”

“He seemed young.” “He is sixteen. Two years younger than you and Rin so don’t brag.”

You scoff and Ran smiles. Then he gets serious. You sense it with every pore of your body. His car is a sport type - or so you think - and there isn’t much space. It’s comfortable though. You aren’t feeling confined or trapped. But that must be just Ran. His mood is transmitted well enough. That too, however, must be just Ran.

“I might come off as a hypocrite, but they are toxic to each other. I don’t know how it’s in Obihiro, but here in Tokyo every other guy in a gang I know, treats his woman well if they have one. Those who aren't, they don’t have a girl. Shion for once. He fucks around, but nothing serious. Girls who are with him know they aren’t forever. Are they still together? Your sis and that guy. What position does he hold in the gang?”

“They are or at least they were when I left. She doesn’t speak about him much, because I hate him and throw my hands at him every time he is in my way.” You stop, suddenly remembering how once you slapped him in the face in front of everyone in your school. He didn’t lay a hand on you, said some stupid shit about how fierce you are, hopped you sister on his Kawasaki and left. You were small and that’s why you believe he didn’t hit you. You weren’t sure he wouldn’t now, but maybe you just never knew him at all. You roll your head on the headrest and look at Ran. “He is some kind of executive or so I heard. I have zero clue about hierarchy and how it goes in the gangs. What position do you and Rindou hold?”

“I am one of the four Heavenly Kings and Rin is my second-in-command. Kakucho and Shion are the other two and then we have Mochizuku, but you haven’t seen him yet.”

Yet.

Ran parks the car outside of the small shop. You have no idea where you both are. You’ve never been to this part of Tokyo. It’s very peaceful here. There are no people outside and the buildings around show no sign of their inhabitants being awake at this late hour. In front of the shop, just a couple of metres away you spot a middle aged man with bright red tenugui tied around his head. The man is smoking sitting on his hunches. When he sees Ran’s car he smiles wide and stands up, waving his cigarette at him.

The conversation is lost and you are somewhat happy about it. Discussing Tenjiku with Ran, you crossed the line Rindou so carefully built and guarded. It almost feels like a betrayal of some sort. You still were much closer to Rindou than to Ran. Wouldn’t it be more right to discuss all these with him and not Ran?

Whatever is right or wrong doesn’t matter anymore. You all don’t belong in the world where it does.

Inside the ramen shop it’s warm and the smell of broth fills your nose helping you realise how hungry you really are. What alcohol you had at the club is out of your system, but the after starvation it always brings is here. You wonder how amazingly our bodies work and how it can sober up and get rid of any influence when a dangerous situation is inflicted upon it. Amusing.

The man happily chats with Ran and you follow them both to the distant booth in the back of the room. It’s closed off and has a curtain for privacy. Another VIP zone.

“You sit here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

With that you are left alone. Not for long. After a couple of minutes Ran returns with a menu, a bottle of sparkling water and a grape soda. He puts soda and a menu with a pencil in front of you and sits on the red and brown leather couch opposite you. The menu is one of those where you need to check what and how you want your food to be done. You take a pencil in your hand and read, your eyes following different variations of ramen they have here.

“Order tonkotsu ramen. You’ll like it.” Recommends Ran. He opens the bottle of water and takes a very long sip. “Even the water here is god-like.”

“Isn’t it Suntory?”

“It is, but it’s more delicious here. Wait until you try their ramen and you'll understand what I am saying.”

Naturally, when ramen arrives and you make a first sip of the broth, Ran is looking at you expectantly. You try noodles, pork belly, onions and enoki mushrooms - you put those additionally because when you came upon them in the menu you suddenly realised you were craving them - on its own. And then you try everything together. The taste is rich. It is delicious.

You look at Ran and nod your head, smiling.

“Told you. The best ramen in Tokyo. It’s sad they do not make Mont Blanc here. The Mont Blanc I like is in another part of Tokyo.” He pouts.

“We can try to make it at home if you want.”

“Really? You can make Mont Blanc at home?”

“Ran, you can make anything at home. Like literally anything.”

He grins at you thinking he might marry you right here on the spot.

He doesn’t say it out loud. Instead he closes the curtain and indulges in his shoyu ramen. And your company.

part 26.

On the 24th of December you leave for Obihiro. Your parents are excited you are coming and for once they seem like a proper family when you call them beforehand to inform what time you’ll arrive home.

Rindou is the one to take you to the bus station. “You shouldn’t have made all this food for us.” He tells you when you sit on the bench near your bus. Your small luggage at your feet. “And you went out and made this insane dessert for Ran. He is totally not worth it.”

You laugh, but your laugh is sad. You don’t wanna leave. “I made twelve of those. Each day I’ll be missing. And I made all this food so it won’t smell like salt and vinegar chips on our balcony. You gotta eat normally, Rindou. And I also left gifts for you two.”

His eyes widen. He adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “You are way too kind to us. Do you know when was the last time someone gifted us something? Never. You shouldn’t have.”

“It’s in the small bag. I wrote your names on top of it. Shoot me a message if you like it.”

The lady on the speaker announces boarding for your bus. You stand up, take your small bag and together with Rindou you stand near the door not ready to say goodbye just yet. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it and whatever he wants to say stays imprisoned inside of him. [Forever]. You hug him and he hugs you back.

Without saying another word to each other you get inside the bus.

He doesn’t leave until your bus is out of sight.

part 27.

You celebrate New Year with your parents and your sister in the warm family house in Obihiro. You all exchange gifts, watch fireworks and take a lot of pictures. Your absences united your family the way your presence never could.

After the dinner, you and your sister go to visit the shrine as you do every year when your phone beeps.

It’s a message from Ran.

my favourite place to eat mont blanc is now your place. can't wait for it to be open again.

haha. i’d say you are cute if i didn’t know you.

i think i am pretty much cute and handsome

btw i like the drawing you did of me

rin is so jealous

tell him he should take me out somewhere and if the atmosphere is right i’ll draw him too

can i message you later? me and my sister are visiting the shrine

i won’t tell him that

ofc. be safe. happy new year.

happy new year ran

Rindou calls you later. He says you shouldn’t listen to Ran and he liked his sweater all right. He says he bought you something too, but no matter how much you begged him to say what it is he wouldn’t tell you. You promise to message him the time you arrive so he’ll pick you up and then he hangs up.

You miss them too.

[Ran messages you exactly fifteen minutes after Rindou’s call. You are still at the shrine and your sister isn’t happy you are on you phone again, but you still reply to him. Every time he messages you do.]

#ran haitani #ran x reader #ran x y/n #ran x you #ran #haitani x reader #ran haitani x y/n #ran haitani x reader #ran smut #haitani ran imagines #haitani brothers #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokrev #ran scenarios #ran haitani scenarios #ran fluff #rindou haitani #tokyo rev x you

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