hugs4nikii

[hugs4nikii]

THIS IS A MASTERPIECE OMFG FRAME IT UP

THE DEVIL WEARS UNIFORM.

SYNOPSIS: With the annual Winter Gala just around the corner, it's a must for students to bring a plus one for the event. It's also the chance for heirs, influencers and future CEOS to make headlines and names for themselves. When a scandaulous rumor erupts, involving Riki's involvement (possibly him being involved with a rival school’s heiress), his image and the Dance Club's sponsorship, is at risk. The Student Council threatens to pull funding unless he clears his name. To save himself, Riki approached you with an outrageous deal: "Pretend to be my girlfriend. We hate one another, right? So this'll be easy." You agreed nonetheless, due to personal reasons. However, things didn't go as planned and you're starting to realise this might be a bad idea. Or was it?

CONTENT: rich kids x fake dating au, college au, dancer! 西村力 x fem! reader, enemies to lovers, reader has family and personal issues, angst, hurt with comfort, tooth-rotting fluff, misconceptions of one another, lots of plot, happy ending, lmk if i miss anything else. wc: 30.6k.

NOTE: i finally finished this... would like to give a special shoutout to @zerocoded and @jun2ki and to everyone in discord server for giving me endless support and some feedback during the progress of writing this fic. i have to say; this is my favorite fic to write and i really like how this turned out. comments and reblogs are appreciated and i hope you enjoy >< tip: i would suggest listening to take my half - beomgyu as this song help me to set the mood for their angst parts (not sorry)

Thud, thud. 

The sound of your Mary Jane heels echoed down the polished, marbled corridor of the east wing, your clipboard tucked under your arm. Decelis Academy’s emblem shines proudly on your blazer. Being the president of the student council means a huge responsibility is thrown onto your shoulders, whether you liked it or not.

It also means you’re the face of the academy and you are not allowed to fail or make a mistake, no matter what. Both the principal and teachers put their faith in you. They knew you’re the only one who is capable of running the position and you didn’t want to let them down. 

You rounded the corner toward the performance arts hallway, fully prepared to handle whatever minor dress code infractions you might find—untucked shirts, missing pins and loose tins. Nothing unusual. You could get this done even with your eyes closed. Even when you’re prepared like you’re about to head to war, you didn’t expect to see him. 

Leaning casually against the opened studio doors with music coming from the studio, Nishimura Riki stood surrounded by a group of dancers. Laughter spilled from their mouths as if the world belonged to them. He stood out the most, due to his height and thanks to that, you were granted a clear view of his lips curled upward, eyes twinkling with amusement at something his friends had said. 

“Are you seriously not wearing your uniform again?” You asked sharply, coming to a halt in front of him. 

The conversation died instantly. The dancers glanced between the two of you with amused expressions. Riki, in his oversized, graphic black shirt, his tie nowhere to be seen and complete disregard for the rules. He simply looked down at you with that annoyingly lazy smirk. The very smirk that sends girls giggling and into a blushing mess. 

Thankfully, you’re not like them. 

“Why good morning to you too, President. Fancy weather we’re having today, right? Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” 

His words earned muffled giggles from the dancers. They zipped their lips when you shot them a cold glare. If looks could kill, some might have dropped dead on the spot. You scowled, taking a step closer. You hated how you had to tilt your head up, mentally cursing him for being so tall when you just reached his shoulders. 

“Decelis’ dress code clearly states that full uniforms are required during school hours,” you continued, ignoring the way your fingers itched to slap that smirk off his face. “I’ll change into my uniform if I were you.” 

He shrugged. “You can’t expect me to practice in my uniform, can you?” 

“I know for sure that your practice starts after school hours and not before.” 

Riki arched an eyebrow. “Woah, are you stalking me now? I feel honored, President.” 

You exhaled sharply, feeling the familiar twinge of frustration. “You think rules don’t apply to you just because you can spin in the air and land on beat?”

Riki pushed off the wall, leaning down from his waist. “No,” he said, voice low enough for only you to hear, “I think rules are for people who aren’t interesting.”

Behind him, one of his friends let out a low whistle. Another laughed. You forced yourself not to roll your eyes.

“Oh please. You’re not interesting. You’re infuriating. There’s a difference.”

“And yet, you keep showing up to check on me,” he replied easily, reaching out to flick the edge of your clipboard with a finger. “Should I be flattered, or concerned?”

“I’m doing my job, Riki.”

“Sure,” he said, with mock innocence. “Must be exhausting, following me around like this.”

You clenched your jaw. “If you were actually capable of following simple instructions, I wouldn’t have to.”

The tension thickened. A few more students who were walking pass, slowed down just to watch the two of you go at one another’s throats like ferocious dogs. After all, everyone knew that you and Riki hated one another. And it’s not the mild kind of hate. Oh no, this is far more serious. Something that has grown out of control that no one dares to interfere. It’s the kind of hate that consists of eye rolls across the classroom, council-meetings getting interrupted and of course, the infamous “get-him-out-of-my-face” type of hate.

It had been like that since the first year. 

You’re the daughter of a perfect, elite family. Riki’s the rich troublemaker who doesn’t seem to give a fuck about the world. He’s simply living his mind carelessly, doing reckless things that often made him gamble with the Grim Reaper, with his life on the line. You, on the other hand, preferred to stick to your schedule and plan. You prefer for things to go your way, for that means you’ll have the highest chance of success. 

But, with Riki in your life, that’s easier said than done. 

Riki let out a mock sigh, stepping back just a little. “Fine, President. I’ll change into my precious uniform. Wouldn’t want to ruin your little checklist.”

“Good,” you said. “For once, try being decent.”

He grinned. “Decent isn’t fun. You should try breaking a rule sometime.”

And with that, he walked past you, his shoulder brushing yours just enough to be intentional—leaving you fuming, flustered, and five minutes behind schedule.

Again.

~

Bam! 

The door slamming against the wall of the council room echoed, startling the living lights of the members inside. All they needed is one look at you to know you had encountered your enemy before they returned to their respective tasks. Scowling, you stormed to your seat and slammed your clipboard and pen down on the desk, causing the things to jump slightly. You closed your eyes, taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself as you try to think of anything. Anything that isn’t Nishimura Riki. When you’re calm enough, you plop down on your seat and begin looking through the paperwork that requires your attention. 

“So what happened today? Did Mister troublemaker get under your skin again?” An amused voice disrupted your temporary peace. 

You didn’t raise your head, focused on reading a report that contains an appeal for a sponsorship. “He wasn’t wearing his school uniform. He told me that he had to come in early for his dance practice. Honestly, does he take me for a fool?” You deadpanned, rubbing the space between your eyes. 

The pair of girls standing on your left shared a glance before replying. “You know, maybe Riki’s right. You need to let loose a little.”

Hearing this, your head snapped up to your friends: Ningning and Minju. Ningning comes from an insanely wealthy family. Her father runs a business company while her mother is a fashion designer. Getting into Decelis Academy was smooth sailing for her, thanks to her parents’ background. Minju, on the other hand, is the daughter of a talented neurosurgeon and doctor. She had already planned the rest of her life—following her parents’ footsteps and to top it off, she’s extremely smart too. 

“What? Are you even hearing yourselves now?” You let out a humorless chuckle, hands resting on the table, “you’re telling me you’re siding with him?” 

Ningning pursed her lips. “No, this isn’t about taking sides. This is about us being worried for you, (Name). You’ve been pushing yourself really hard and everytime we ask you to hang out with us, you always decline it.” 

Minju nodded in agreement, chiming in. “Yeah, we get that you have to work on the Winter Gala but that doesn’t mean you have to do it alone,” she paused, stepping closer to place a comforting hand above yours and gave you a warm smile, “we’re here for you. Let us help you, please?” 

You sighed, intertwined your fingers with Minju’s and gave it a squeeze. “I’m really sorry, girls but there’s still so many things I need to do.” 

Their faces fell. Your heart stung at their reactions but you composed yourself, not wanting to give in. Weakness. That’s what you were taught since young. It’s been ingrained into your mind the moment you were born. You were taught the importance of being a leader. To lead a group of people who will listen to your command, like you’re a sergeant, directing loyal soldiers to the battlefield, ready to risk their lives. 

You flashed your friends with what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about me. When the whole thing’s over, we can hang out, yeah?” 

Ningning parted her glossy lips, about to protest but Minju silenced her by elbowing her side. “Alright, but this time, you better not turn us down anymore. Or we’ll resort to kidnapping you,” she threatened and dragged Ningning away without waiting for your response. 

Now that you were alone, you returned to your pending task, knowing you’ll be spending the next two to three hours in the student council room. 

~

By the time you were done, your shoulders and limbs were stiff. You groaned in pain as you cracked them, standing to stretch yourself. The sun was starting to set, dusting the sky in a beautiful, mesmerizing shade of reddish-orange. You packed your things, locked up the room and headed to the main entrance, where your driver was waiting for you. However, you had to walk past the dance studios on your way out—which means there’s a chance of you bumping into Riki again. 

As you got closer and closer, the music got louder. You knew you shouldn’t stop to peek inside as your parents are waiting for you at home. But curiosity got the better of you. You ended up stopping by the doors, able to look inside through the small gap. From where you stood, you were given a glimpse of Riki in the middle, leading the dancers as they observed their movements in the mirror before them. The music was a mix of hip-hop and rock. Something that suits Riki well. 

What the? Why am I thinking of that? 

You blinked, shaking your head to get rid of the thought. You were captivated by how Riki moved his limbs like water, smooth and fluid without missing a single beat. You knew he’s a talented dancer but you didn’t expect him to be this talented. You weren’t sure how long you stood there, Riki being oblivious to your presence until your phone rang, blowing your cover. 

Ring, ring! Ring, ring! 

“Shit,” you're cursed, frantically whipping your phone out to silence it.

But it was too late. 

“Well well well, what do we have here? Miss President watching us through the door after school hours,” Riki’s annoyingly smug voice pierced through the silence as he walked out of the studio, standing directly in front of you like he’s blessing you with his mere presence. 

You managed to decline the call but the damage was already done. Not wanting to show your pride was hurt, you stood your ground and tilted your chin to look him right in the eyes. “What do you want, Riki?” 

The infamous troublemaker arched an eyebrow. “What do I want? How about you tell me why you were standing here? Shouldn’t you be heading home to your mansion and playing princess with your precious friends?” He sneered and if you listened closely, you could hear disdain in his voice. 

“I was about to head home and I had to walk past the studio to reach the main entrance. Don’t let it get to your head,” you retorted, tightening your grip around the strap of your bag. 

Riki stepped closer, giving you a faint whiff of his cologne—something woody mixed with vanilla. “Is that so? Run along then, President.” 

You scowled, resisting the tempting urge to punch him in the face and stormed off, ignoring how his laughter echoed through the silent hallway. A black limousine was waiting for you when you reached the main entrance, with a man wearing a suit and a pair of sunglasses. He didn’t say anything, opening the backdoor for you with a respectful bow as you got in and closed the door, heading to the driver’s seat and drove off. 

The ride back home was silent—the calm before the storm. Even if the moment was short, you were able to get your desired peace and quiet before you reached home. 

The air felt suffocating the moment you stepped foot into the mansion. Both maids and butlers bowed when you entered but you paid them no mind. The head butler of the family: Ong Daesung, greeted you as you stopped before him. He bowed, one arm in front and the other neatly folded behind his back. 

“Welcome back, Miss. Sir and Ma’am are waiting for you in the dining room. Please, follow me,” he said, not straightening himself until he was granted permission to do so. 

You sighed, having foreseen this. “..Fine, lead the way then.” 

“As you order, Miss.” 

Daesung straightened himself and led you to the dining room. Your bag was handed to one of the maids, who brought it to your room at your request. The duration it takes from the main sector of the mansion to the dining room takes you about ten minutes, due to your home being built on a private plot of land. You have everything and anything a person could dream of. When Ningning and Minju first came over, they nearly fainted at how insanely rich your family is, despite coming from the same lineage as yours. 

Knock knock. 

“Sir, I’ve brought her as you requested,” Daesung announced after knocking on a pair of closed, pristine white doors. 

“Good, let her in and leave us alone,” your father’s muffled voice was heard from the other end. Daesung opened the door, moving aside so you could enter and closed once you were in, his footsteps gradually fading away until you couldn’t hear him anymore. 

It’s summer now. The sun glowed behind the tall glass windows, casting gold streaks across the marble floor, but inside—it felt like winter. The air was cold. Not in temperature but in presence. You could feel it instantly: the drop in warmth, the slightest shift in the air, like walking into a room where all the joy had been sucked out. Your fingers instinctively tightened around the hem of your blazer, as if it could shield you from what waited ahead. 

At the head of the table sits your father, his posture impeccable. His tailored-made suit is pristine and void of a speck of dust, even in his own home. He didn’t look up at first. He didn’t have to. His very existence commanded control. And beside him sat your mother, dressed in nothing but luxury from head to toe. She’s quiet as always, eyes flickering to you but quickly back to her untouched plate of steak. 

You took your seat slowly, wary to avoid dragging the chair too loudly. You didn’t want to break the thin, invisible thread that’s holding the room together. 

“So,” your father finally said, tone sharp enough to slice through a frozen slab of butter. “You were late.”

No greeting. No ‘how was your day’. Just judgment, cold and clean. Straight to the point. 

“I had student council duties,” you replied evenly, trying to steady your voice. Trying not to show any form of weaknesses. “There was a delay with the new event approvals.” 

He hummed. But to you, it sounded more like disapproval dressed in faux politeness. 

“Then tell me; why did you decline my phone call?” He continued and your heart dropped. 

The air grew colder and for a moment, you swore it’s winter. Still, you held your ground. You didn’t cower, no matter how much your brain was telling you to run. 

Run. Run away and never look back. 

“I was in the ladies when you called. That’s why I decline it,” you replied, easily lying through your teeth. 

Your father chose that moment to look up, unblinking eyes locked onto your face—like you’re a target he’s aiming to shoot. To kill. You didn’t dare to move. Not even breathing. He blinked and looked back down at his half-eaten steak, knife and fork held separately in both hands. 

“..I see. I hope you aren’t involving yourself in unnecessary distractions. Your recent grades are not up to standards, especially your Economics. You could’ve gotten a ninety-eight, instead of a ninety.” 

You swallowed dryly, curling your hands into fists with your nails digging into the skin of your palms. Beneath the table was considered your safe space in the dining room. Underneath it, you could fidget with your fingers, play with the hem of your skirt and tighten them into fists. Anything to distract or ground yourself. To hold back from showing emotions. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll work harder,” you apologized, bowing until your face was hidden from his view. 

“Sorry doesn’t mean anything. You’re not like the other students. You don’t have the luxury of mediocrity.” 

You bit the inside of your cheek. You have done everything you could—getting the highest marks in your class and cohort, being the head of your year and your latest achievement will be being the President of the Student Council. But it was never enough. Not for him. 

Because your father didn’t want a daughter. No, he wanted a successor. A perfect heir. He wants someone to continue his legacy, molding you into a capable CEO and tossing you into a future and a life you want no part of. You didn’t want to spend your life sitting by your desk, attending meetings after meetings and talking to potential business partners.

No, you’ve already had your life planned out. You want to stand in a courtroom, wearing the robes as you passionately defend your client while laying out the evidence you had collected. Your dream is to become a lawyer. You weren’t sure when or how it started but you just knew it.

After what felt like forever, dinner was over and you immediately retreated to the comfort and privacy of your room. Your safe haven. A place where you don’t feel suffocated with every movement of yours being watched like a hawk. Changing out of your uniform, you stepped into the joint bathroom to take a much-needed bath, forgoing the idea of showering as you want to soak in the lukewarm water—a temporary sweet escape from reality. 

You got in once the bath bomb had completely dissolved, your body disappearing until only your shoulders, neck and face were visible. Your hair is now soaked, sticking to your drenched skin. Leaning back until your head’s resting against the tiled wall behind you, you stared ahead of you, gradually getting lost in your thoughts. To the public, you’re seen as the ideal student, the role model your juniors should be following and of course, the President of the Student Council. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you rested your chin on your arms, ignoring the way goosebumps formed on your skin. 

You did everything you could—pushing yourself over the limit, pulling countless all-nighters and sometimes, forging to take your meals, just so you could get the perfect grades. But no matter how hard you tried, it wasn’t enough for your father. No, it will never be enough for him. His insanely high expectations for you will make anyone faint out of pure horror and disbelief. Sighing and now no longer in the mood to continue bathing, you got out and wrapped yourself in a towel, stepping out of the bathroom. 

It took you a span of five minutes to get dressed in comfortable clothes before you sat by your desk, pulling out your study materials and slipping on your glasses. 

“Guess it’s time to burn the midnight oil,” you muttered and plunged in without hesitation. 

~ 

Riki didn’t bother announcing his return, carelessly kicking off his shoes and leaving them by the side. He didn’t even bother arranging them neatly. His bag slung off his left shoulder, nearly slipping off but he managed to readjust it in the nick of time. 

Ahem. 

They paused, looking forward to seeing their mother glaring down at them from where she stood—the top of the stairs that led to the second floor. She was dressed in a black tight dress that perfectly hugged her body, showing off the curves in the right places. Her hair was pinned in a tight bun, face still covered in make-up—a sign that she had just reached home from her photoshoot of the day. 

“Ni-Ki, stop messing around. You’re an adult now,” she reprimanded. 

Riki made a show of rolling his eyes, readjusting the strap of his bag and rocked back and forth on the spot.. “Sorry, mother. It won’t happen again.” 

The older woman snorted at the evident sarcasm in his voice, climbing down the flight of stairs until she reached the first floor, now standing before him. “You’re the future for the Nishimura Family. When will you wake up and realise that?” 

Riki scowled, face hardening. “I’ve told you plenty of times: I don’t want to be a model. I want to be a dancer. That’s my dream.” 

“Well, your dream is ambitious! Just because you’re the leader of that silly little dance club doesn’t mean you’ll be a dancer,” she lets out an exasperated sigh, frustrated with her son’s stubbornness.

No matter how many times he had heard it, it still hurts. His heart ached. His jaw tightened and his fists clenched, shoulders borderline trembling as he silently seethed in rage. He was so close to snapping but he held himself back, not wanting to engage in a pointless argument. The woman pursed her lips in a thin line, eyes unable to hide the disappointment. After all, that’s what Nishimura Ni-Ki is to his family—a disappointment, a disgrace for not wanting to continue their legacy. 

As always, Riki’s the first to withdraw from their countless arguments. He knew there’s no point in convincing her to change her mind. Once she has something set in stone, it’s futile trying to talk some sense to her. 

He scoffed, walking around her to climb up the flight of stairs. “Forget it, you’ll never listen to me. Never.” 

“Nishimura Ni-Ki, don’t walk away from me. We’re not done with this conversation,” she called out, furious. 

“You’re not done but I am,” he retorted, not turning to face her and heading to his room, purposely slamming the door shut so it echoed throughout their home. 

With a heavy sigh, he tossed his bag aside and face-planted into his bed. He pulled out his phone, rolling onto his back to scroll through the countless notifications he received. There were more than a hundred text messages from a group chat he and his friends were in along with some social media notifications as well. He ignores them all, closing his phone and staring at the ceiling. 

Ring, ring! Ring, ring! 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he grumbled, annoyed with how he couldn’t get some peace and quiet to himself. One look glanced at the screen tells him it was one of his friends—Sim Jaeyun. 

“Hello? If you’re gonna ask me to go to another party, I’ll block you,” he deadpanned. 

“What? No, dude. I’m not calling you because of that. Check the gossip’s Twitter account now,” Jake replied. 

“Why?” Riki asked, pushing himself up.

“Just check it. It’s better if you see it yourself.” 

He frowned at the vague response but before he could say anything, Jake had hung up—much to his disbelief. Riki ended up checking Decelis’ Academy Twitter account, scrolling down and what he saw on the latest tweet made his heart drop. 

“What the fuck!?”

~

It was another regular day in school, with you attending classes after classes and staying behind to work on the Winter Gala. Well, it was supposed to be a regular day but turns out life has some surprises in store for you. The biggest surprise comes in the form of a certain troublemaker barging into the Student Council room during lunchtime. You paused, looking up mid-chew and you’re unable to hold back the annoyed sigh that left your lips at the sight of him. 

“Riki, what do you want now? Here to stir trouble?” You asked, leaning back in your seat with your arms crossed with your half-eaten bowl of noodles placed in front of you. 

“...I need your help,” he said, looking everywhere else but you. And that’s when you know something’s wrong. 

Unlike his usual flamboyant, smug and charismatic self, the Riki in front of you is nervous. He shuffled his shoes on the spot, gnawing on his bottom lip and fiddling with the hem of his leather jacket. Your curiosity and interest was piqued, for you’ve never seen him like this before. Not even once. Not wanting to plunge in without gathering more clues, you decide to lay out the first bait, waiting to see if he’ll bite or flee. 

“You look nervous. Did something happen?” You politely asked, unable to hide your faint curiosity and if he heard it, he didn’t do anything to acknowledge it. 

Riki ran a hand through his blonde hair, approaching you until he was standing on the other side of your desk. Now that he’s closer, you could tell he was filled with nothing but nervousness. “Have you opened Twitter today?” 

You blinked. “Not yet. Why?” 

He didn’t verbally explain, choosing to pull out his phone and show it to you instead. You had to lean forward to get a look at the screen: 

It was a tweet from @DecelisInsider, the academy’s anonymous but widely followed gossip account. At the top was a blurry photo of Riki and a female student who you recognized—Hana, taken outside the dance studio late at night. To make matters worse, there was the caption: 

BREAKING: Looks like Decelis’ Golden Boy isn’t so golden after all. Sources say Nishimura Riki and Hana Bae (yes, that Hana) were caught in a ‘compromising’ situation after hours… More at 6. #DecelisScandal #DanceClubDisaster

Beneath the tweet, there were thousands of likes and dozens of retweets. You didn’t bother clicking on the quote tweets, knowing there are all kinds of reactions—people gossiping, dragging his name, speculating on what happened behind those closed doors and the list goes on. 

You looked up at him slowly. “Is this real?” 

Riki scoffed, visibly pissed. “Of course not. Someone took that picture at the worst fucking moment. It’s not what it looks like. We bumped into one another and that’s it.”

“You do know she has a huge crush on you, right? And what, now everyone thinks you’re… hooking up with her in the dance room?” You pointed out. 

His jaw tightened. “Yeah. And now people are saying I bribed a staff member to unlock the studio for me after hours. They’re also talking about how I’m using Hana to get sponsorship favors.” 

You grimaced at that. “Yikes, this isn’t looking too good for you.”

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock. Thanks for pointing that out,” he snapped, only realizing what he said and forced his voice to soften, “I’ve already been told if this escalates further, the funders will pull out. Which means the dance club won’t be able to perform for the competition. And I can’t let that happen. Not because of this stupid, baseless rumor.” 

You couldn’t help but flinch at the pure, raw anger in his voice that seemed to take over when he practically spat them out, like they’re venom to him. “Alright, then what do you plan to do? Surely you came here with a solution, right?” 

Instead of looking smug, Riki looks way more nervous than he already was—a feat you weren’t sure that’s possible for someone like him. Someone who’s fearless and likes to put his life on the line. 

“I need you to be my girlfriend. Fake girlfriend.”

Silence. 

“What?” You gaped at him, dumbfounded. Your crossed arms loosened slightly. 

Riki ran a hand through his platinum blonde hair, looking stressed and more importantly: uncertain. “Look, this is the only solution I can think of. And, you’re the perfect person for this. Please?”

At this point, he was getting desperate. You crossed your arms, eyes focused on him. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere. And what do you mean by me being the perfect person for this?”

Riki scratched the back of his neck. “It helps by getting her off my back and… you get to stop the rumors that you’re too cold to date anyone. 

You blinked. “Excuse me?” 

He winced. “People love to gossip about you and me. If we date, it’s a win-win situation. You get to prove that you're not some emotionless council robot, and I get to fix my image before the sponsors pull out.”

You stared at him, stunned. “So, let me get this straight. You’re asking me to be your fake girlfriend to clean up your mess and patch my reputation at the same time?”

Riki hesitated before nodding. “Basically… yes.”

The silence stretched. 

Riki’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “You hate me, right? So, you’re not gonna fall for me. And I definitely won’t fall for you. That makes us perfect for this.” 

You wanted to laugh at the sheer absurdity of it. You wanted to mock him, taunt him about how he had shoved his pride aside to beg you for help. But the longer you looked at him, the more you could see a boy, desperate for your help. He wasn’t the annoying, smug and loud Riki anymore. 

You purse your lips. “...Fine, we’ll do this fake boyfriend girlfriend thing.” 

Riki’s face lit up like a light bulb, flashing you a boyish grin. A grin that suits him shockingly well. Well enough to make your heart flutter. “Great! Looking forward to working with you, girlfriend.” 

“You’re pissing me off.”

“Ouch, what a romantic person you are.” 

News of your relationship spread like wildfire across the entire student body. As you expected, there were a mixture of reactions. Some were dumbfounded. Some were furious that their dream, ideal boyfriend was snatched away by you. Some, on the other hand, didn’t bat an eye and simply minded their business. You wished everyone could be like them but that was just a stupid, unrealistic dream. 

Everywhere you went, there were whispers, unsubtle cameras aimed at your direction as they zoomed in on the most crucial part—you holding hands with Riki. 

At first, you had slapped his hand away when he grabbed yours without warning, eliciting an amused snort from him. “Woah, relax. I’m not trying to hurt you or something. If we want to pull this off, we have to hold hands in front of everyone.”

“Over my dead body,” you retorted, quickening your pace as you walked through the main entrance, now entering the academy’s grounds. Much to your annoyance, Riki was able to catch up to you easily—one of the perks of being tall. 

“C’mon, don’t be like that, babe,” he called out and the sudden usage of the petname made you halt. 

“Babe?” You turned around, flashing him an incredulous look, acting as if he had spoken in a different language. 

“Yes darling?” Riki beamed down at you, flashing you his signature charming, blinding smile. It’s the type of smile that could make any girl swoon and trip over their feet. Any girl except you. 

“You’re so weird. Why did I even agree to this?” You sighed, rubbing the space between your eyes, reluctantly letting him hold your hand.

You ignore how his hand was larger and warmer than yours, the way his calloused fingertips felt against your knuckles. Now, the two of you entered the hallway that’s filled to the brim with students, who paused with whatever they were doing at the sight of you. Among the sea of faces, you were able to spot Ningning and Minju, who were as equally stunned as the others. Ningning’s eyes rapidly darted between you and Riki, mouthing the words to you from where she stood. 

“Since when?” She asked. 

You shrugged your shoulders, not giving her a solid answer and she scowled. “Tell us the details during lunch.” 

You could only nod your head before you were dragged away by Riki. You ended up in the area where your classes are normally held but the same can’t be applied to him.

“Wait, Riki, why did you bring me here?” You asked, finally coming to a stop. 

“Why? Is it wrong for me to walk my girlfriend to class now?” He replied with his own question, turning to face you with an eyebrow raised. 

“You didn’t have to.”

He blinked. “But I want to.”

And fuck, the way your breath hitched and the way your heart flutter shouldn’t have happened. However, the sweet, little moment shattered at his next words. 

“Besides, I’m doing this to keep the act up and—” He paused mid-sentence when he looked ahead of you. 

You were about to turn around, wondering what had made him stop talking, only for him to do something that you didn’t expect. Grabbing your chin with his left hand, he wrapped his right arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. Your eyes widened, mindlessly letting him angle your chin to the right angle and then, he kissed you. 

Your world turned upside down, the surroundings blurring out the moment you felt his soft lips pressed against yours. There weren't any actions involved but you weren’t sure if you could even survive that. The way his lips felt against yours was just right. Like he’s the final, missing piece to your puzzle. Riki’s eyes were closed while yours were wide open, hands awkwardly resting by your sides—unsure of what to do with them. 

Eventually, he pulled away but he’s still close enough for your breaths to mingle. You couldn’t look away, captivated by the current moment. Riki glanced over your shoulder and straightened himself, playfully ruffling your hair—much to your annoyance. 

“Wha—hey! What was that for?” You squawked, ducking your head to avoid his persistent hand. 

“Sorry, Hana was there and I had to do something to make her go away,” he replied, unaware of how your heart sank at his words. 

Right, of course. He only kissed me because of Hana. 

You scolded yourself for being delusional to think there was another meaning for his action. “Right, well now that she’s gone. I’m heading in and you should head for your class, or you’ll be late.” 

He nodded, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Mm, see you later.” He casually waved you off, acting as if everything was normal. As if he didn’t just kiss you out of nowhere. 

You entered the lecture room, taking your rightful seat while pulling out the required materials. Your cheeks turned red as you touched your lips—fingers hovering against it. You couldn’t stop thinking about how his lips felt against yours. 

That… That was my first kiss! 

~

While you’re having your first class of the day, Riki too was in the same situation as yours. He sat with his small group of friends at the back of the lecture room. Contrary to what other people may think, Riki does take his studies seriously, even if his dream is to become a dancer. Being a major in business management is a huge contrast to his entire personality. He was in the middle of jotting down notes when Jake nudged his elbow, causing his pen to skid across his notebook, leaving an awkward line behind. 

“The fuck?” Riki hissed, glancing at the front to ensure the lecturer wasn’t looking at them. 

“Is it true? You’re dating (Name)?” He whispered.

Riki rolled his eyes, facing the front. “Yes, it’s true. Now can you move away? Your bigass head’s blocking my view.”

“Ok, first of all: that’s rude and I’m your hyung. So treat me with some respect,” Jake started nagging at him, the same way with how a mother will nag at her child. Riki simply ignored him. 

“Yah, are you even listening to me?”

Sighing, Riki turned to the older and roughly flicked his forehead. His action elicited a dramatic, loud groan that echoed amongst the four walls of the lecture room. The lecturer went silent at the sudden interruption, turning to face them with her eyes narrowed. The students swore they felt the temperature in the room dropped at that moment. 

“Sim Jaeyun and Nishimura Ni-Ki, is my lecture boring?” She interrogated the two petrified students. 

“N-No, Miss!” They replied in unison, stuttering over their words, gaining some muffled amused snickers from their classmates. 

However, their lecturer was not amused. Her eyes hardened and became more narrowed, which wasn’t supposed to be humanely possible. “If I catch the two of you fooling around one more time, you’re out of my class, understood?” 

They frantically nodded their heads at lightning speed. “Understood!” 

Safe to say, the two of them were on their best behavior for the rest of the lesson. However, that doesn’t mean Riki’s off the hook. When it was lunchtime, Riki planned on heading to the other end of the academy—where your classes are normally held, only to be stopped by someone who is blocking his path. He didn’t even manage to get out of his seat while his friends were waiting by the front door, obviously eavesdropping on his conversation. 

Riki sighed, already feeling a headache coming his way. “Hana, what do you want?” 

She crossed her arms, lips coated in a bright shade of pink pursed in a thin line. Her manicured nails tapped away on her forearms. “Is it true?” 

“What are you talking about?” He sighed for the second time.

Hana scowled, eyes flashing in anger and something else. Something unreadable. Maybe it was disappointment. Maybe it was frustration. Whatever it was, Riki wants nothing to do with her. But he came to a realization early on that no matter how hard he tried to push her away, Hana kept sticking to him. Like an annoying pest. 

“Don’t play dumb, Riki! Is it true that you’re dating (Name)?” She raised her voice, her words bouncing off the four walls of the now fairly vacant lecture room. 

“So what if it is? What are you gonna do about it?” He deadpanned, feeling a twinge of satisfaction at the sight of her surprised face. Riki grabbed his bag, slung it over his left shoulder and walked around her, only to be stopped as she grabbed onto his wrist. 

“Let go of me,” he snapped, roughly snatching his hand away from hers. 

“I know it’s fake. The two you could barely tolerate breathing in the same air as one another. Do you really think you’re able to outplay me?” Hana smirked, the way he paused didn’t go unnoticed by her sharp eyes. 

“I wonder what’ll happen if I tell the funding organization  that the Golden Boy of the dance club tried laying his hands on an innocent, vulnerable girl. I can only imagine what’ll happen if they were to find out.”

Riki sees red. He spun around, stomping towards Hana and used his towering height to his full advantage as he loomed over her. “Listen here, you bitch. Just because you’re the daughter of the principal doesn’t mean you can go around causing trouble. I know you’re doing this because you want my attention. But guess what? You’ll never have it, no matter what.”

Hana cowered under his intense, piercing gaze. Her lips pathetically wobbled and she was about to speak but Riki had left the classroom, ignoring his friends who were waiting for him. 

“Wha—hey! Where you going!?” Jake called out. 

“To find my girlfriend!” Riki shouted, not turning around as he made a sharp turn on his left, teeth grinding down on one another. 

~

The moment your class ended and you finished packing your things, Ningning and Minju were quick to jump on you as they bombard you with questions. They dragged you to the cafeteria, managing to find an empty table and forced you to sit. 

“Alright, spill. Don’t leave anything out,” Minju demanded, with Ningning eagerly nodding along in agreement. 

“What’s there to spill? Riki and I are dating now,” you answered, the words sounding foreign even to you. 

“Yeah and pigs can fly,” Ningning retorted, leaning forward slightly like she’s interrogating you for a crime you have committed, “I know you, (Name). You literally hate that guy to the point you can’t stand being near him. And now, you expect me to clap for your relationship like there wasn��t centuries worth of beef between the two of you?”

You have to admit, hearing those words from someone else’s mouth does make your relationship sound even more fake and unbelievable. But, a deal’s a deal and you aren’t the type of person to back out from it, not when both parties have agreed on it. You certainly aren’t the type of person to throw Riki under the bus while pretending it wasn’t your problem either. Hence, you have no choice but to casually shrug your shoulders. 

“We talked about it and it turns out it was all just a misunderstanding,” you replied, the words sounding more and more awkward coming from your mouth. 

Ningning and Minju shared a confused glance before Minju spoke up. “Alright, blink twice if you’re held hostage by Riki.”

You didn’t blink.

They gasped. “Wait, so you’re not lying?”

“I didn’t say anything about lying,” you pointed out. 

“Ugh, you’re right,” Ningning grumbled, lips curling down in a scowl, “well, congrats on your relationship then. He better treat you well or else—”

“Or else what? You gonna punch me in the face or something?” A familiar, amused voice interrupted your conversation. 

Looking behind, you were greeted with the sight of your boyfriend—fake boyfriend blessing the three of you with his presence. Riki didn’t sit beside you. Instead, he grabbed your bag and gently tugged you out of your seat, careful to not make you tripped. At this point, everyone in the cafeteria had their eyes on you.

“Where are we going?” You asked, stunned. 

Riki leaned in, having to lower himself so he could whisper into your ear. To the public, some might assume he’s whispering sweet nothings to you. But that wasn’t the case. You had to ground yourself, goosebumps forming on your skin at how his warm breath grazes against your skin with every word. 

“I need to talk to you. It’s about Hana.”

You jerked your head back, eyes widening slightly at the mention of her. Riki nodded, as if he could understand the questions you have in mind. He didn’t give you time to reply, already dragging you out of the cafeteria, leaving your stunned friends behind, watching as your retreating figures get smaller and smaller. 

Riki ended up bringing you to the open-aired garden where there weren’t lots of students but it’s safe enough for the two of you to talk, without anyone eavesdropping. He stopped at an empty table with some trees acting as shelter and you sat down, crossing your arms. He immediately dropped the act, releasing his hand from yours as he sat opposite of you. 

“She knows.” 

“Knows about what?”

“Knows about us, dumbass,” he retorted, ignoring the offended glare you threw at him.

“How? Did you tell her” You questioned him.

Riki shots you an incredulous look, throwing his hands up. “Really? Do you think that low of me? Just because I flirt around doesn’t mean I have a loose mouth.” 

Your face burned in embarrassment. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“Whatever,” he dismissed your response with a mere flick of his hand, “if you’re wondering, she approached me after class. She said about how she knew our relationship’s fake and how if this continues…” His voice trailed off, his eyes darkening in anger. 

“And if this continues?” You repeat his words. 

“...She’ll contact the funders and tell them to pull out,” he finished. 

Silence. 

Your arms dropped, surprise flickered across your face. “Does she even have the powers to do that?” 

Riki scoffed, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in his seat. “She’s the precious, spoiled daughter of the principal here. Of course she can do that. She can do anything and her daddy won’t even bat an eye.”

You cringed at the word ‘daddy’ but didn’t say much. “Well, this is quite serious. We need to do something, to prove that we’re really dating.”

“Didn’t know you like me that much.”

“No, you moron. I’m doing this to save my reputation," you snapped but he merely chuckled. 

“Alright, President. What do you have in mind?” 

~ 

As expected, the posts you and Riki uploaded on social media took the Internet by storm. It blew up within the first thirty minutes after it was posted. Heck, even the gossip account had posted something as well: 

Your posts blew up to the point that even your family had seen it. To say your father was furious would be an understatement. He didn’t bother announcing his arrival to campus, appearing without warning after school hours. The man headed to the one and only place where you spend most of your time at—the student council room. 

BAM! 

He barged into the room without knocking, slamming the doors open so hard it smacked against the wall, trembling as it swung forward from the harsh force. You visibly flinched, startled as you were in the middle of working on the Winter Gala. Raising your head, your face turned as white as a ghost at the sight of your father. His jaw tightened, shoulders trembling from poorly restrained anger and for a moment, you swore you saw steam coming out from his ears. 

You couldn’t move, muscles going limp at the sight of him standing in the same room as you. You’ve never expected him to be here—in the student council room after school hours. As far as you remembered, this was the first time he had stepped into the academy’s grounds. But it wasn’t for the right reasons. 

“Father, I—” You spoke up, rising from your seat but he cut you off. 

“Silence. You’ve been fooling around with a boy behind my back?” He said in a slow, unusually steady tone and continued, “I sent you here to succeed, to lead, to represent our name with dignity. Not to fool around with some random, incompetent boy,” he snapped, voice dangerously low. 

Your heart dropped. He knew. Or at least, he thought he did.  Your father doesn’t know the truth and the lie. That your relationship was nothing but a mere facade. A performance with the two of you being the lead cast and the cohort being the performers. You didn’t want to tell him, which was why you had no choice but to remain silent. But your silence holds a meaning behind it. The meaning that it’s nothing but the solid truth. 

“Is this how you repay me for everything I’ve done for you?” He seethed, stepping closer. And closer. Every step he takes means you’re closer to the awaiting arms of death. Of his anger. 

“Sarcifies, opportunities—everything handed to you on a silver platter, and you threw it away for some lovey-dovey romance with a delinquent dancer?” 

Your hands curled into fists, shoulders trembling like fallen leaves. Your nails dug into the soft flesh of your palms, hard enough to leave indents behind. You wanted to say something. Anything. That it wasn’t what it looked like. That this wasn’t real. Nothing about this is real. And most importantly, that you are still the perfect child he wanted you to be. 

But something in your throat locked up. You couldn’t even breathe properly, let alone utter a single word. It’s times like these where you get reminded of the sheer power your father has, just from his presence alone. You have witnessed it firsthand, when you had paid him a visit at his office. The way he commanded the room filled with higher-ups, who had more power than him, was enough to send shivers down your spine. And it wasn’t in a good way.

And then, you saw it. 

His hand lifted. It was just an inch or maybe two. You weren’t sure. 

But it’s enough to make your instincts spike in fear. But he didn’t manage to take another step closer. 

“Hey.” 

Riki’s voice cut through the thick tension like a sharpened blade. He strode into the council room without hesitation, his usual smirk nowhere to be found. It was replaced with a serious look—a look you rarely see in him. He grabbed your father’s wrist—firmly, but without aggression—and boldly locked eyes with him. You could see your father struggling to free himself but it was futile. Riki’s strength easily overwhelms him and he merely tightens his grip around his wrist, tight enough to earn a pained hiss from your father. 

“I don’t care who you think you are,” he said, voice laced with steel, “but you don’t get to touch her. Not on my watch.” 

Your father froze, his gaze snapping to Riki in disbelief. 

“She’s doing everything she can to make you proud. She’s working harder than anyone in this goddamn school, to earn your acknowledgement and attention. So, if you have a problem with her not being a machine, then the problem’s on you. Not her.”

You stared at Riki, taken aback with what he said. No one has talked back to your father before. Not like this. Not your mother and not even you. The room was filled with tense silence. It was so quiet that for a moment, you feared they might be able to hear your heartbeat. 

“Tch.” 

Your father yanked his arm out of Riki’s grip, his face red with fury with veins protruding from his forehead. But he said nothing. He merely turned, straightened his jacket and walked out, not sparing you a second glance. The moment he was gone, your knees wobbled. Your strength has left your body. You collapsed to the chair behind you, hands trembling violently as you gripped the edge of the desk like it was your final lifeline. 

Riki didn’t say anything. His eyes remained fixated on you, observing you. 

And just like that, the final dam broke. 

Your chest heaved as a choked sob escaped your throat, and once it started, you couldn’t stop it. The tears came hard and fast, blurring everything in front of you as you buried your face in your hands.

“I-I hate him,” you gasped out between sobs. “I hate how he looks at me like I’m never enough… like I’m always one step away from being a disappointment.”

Riki knelt beside you slowly, careful, like approaching a wounded animal.

“He doesn’t see how hard I try,” you cried. “He never does. I’m breaking myself to fit into this mold he made for me and it’s still not enough. Nothing is ever enough.”

Your voice cracked at the end, bottom lip quivering with warm, fat and salty tears rolling down your cheeks. Your breathing grew shallow and uneven, as you struggled to breathe. And then, you felt it—Riki’s warm, large hand covering yours. 

You looked up at him with your red, swollen and teary eyes. He didn’t flinch at the sight nor did he pull away from you. “You don’t have to pretend with me.” 

“But, this isn’t…me. I’m not supposed to be like this. I’m being we—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he interrupted you, voice laced with firmness, “showing emotions doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re human and humans feel things. They laugh when they find something funny. They cry when they are upset. It’s these emotions that make humans… well, humans.”

He paused, looking at you with gentleness. The sight was enough to make your breath hitch. You’ve never seen him like this before. Relaxed and at peace. Something you’ve never thought the reckless and impulsive Riki will be. 

“That’s why I told you that you need to break a rule here and there.”

His words managed to crack a weak smile and a watery choke from you. “I don’t think that applies here but sure,” you croaked out, wiping your tears away as you sniffled, the sound seemingly loud in the quiet council room. 

Riki chuckled, withdrawing his hand from yours and stood up, straightening himself. You weren’t sure why but your hand twitched, tempted to grab his hand but you stopped, not wanting to make a fool of yourself. “Well, I guess that’s that then. And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about what happened.” 

Your shoulders sagged with relief. “Thanks, Riki. You know, maybe I’ve misjudged you.” 

“Oh?” He arched an eyebrow expectantly. 

Your face flushed red when you realized what you had said. “I-I mean, you’re not a bad person! I’ve always assumed you’re someone who…”

“Go on.”

At this rate, it’s pointless trying to back out and you rush through the remaining words at breakneck speed, speaking without pausing or breathing. “I’ve always assumed you’re someone who doesn’t care about the rules, living your own life while being true to yourself. And I’m jealous of you.”

Riki stares at you, shocked to hear that. You swore you saw something flickered in his eyes but it was gone when he blinked. And he was back to himself, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “You? Jealous of me? I doubt so, President. I mean, you’re…you and I’m just me. There’s nothing to be jealous of, really.” 

If you strained your ears, you’ll be able to hear the faint self-loath in his words. You opened your mouth, wanting to say something but you paused. What could you possibly say in these kinds of situations, to make the other party feel better? You aren’t someone who’s great at comforting people with words in the first place. You’ve learnt the way of bottling up your feelings rather than talking to someone about it. Sure, it wasn’t a healthy coping mechanism but you’ve lived long enough with it. 

Riki took your silence as a response, nodded slowly and turned to walk out of the council room. He paused by the doorframe, looking over his shoulder to your face, with his bangs shielding his eyes. “By the way, I think you look kinda cute after crying.”

Just like that, he disappeared from your sight, leaving a flustered and embarrassed you behind. 

~

“And…time’s up! Alright everyone, that’s all for today!” The dance club’s instructor announced, clapping her hands.

The moment they heard that, everyone collapsed to the floor, all sweaty with their clothes sticking to their skin. Some were quick to pack their things, scrambling out of the studio, thrilled to head home. Riki groaned, plopping down onto the wooden floor, leaning against the wall behind him with his long legs stretched out before him. He downed the remaining content in his water bottle in one go, clicking his tongue in dissatisfaction when it did nothing to quench his thirst. 

The dancer tilted his head back, gently resting it against the wall so he could stare at the ceiling, letting the lights blind his vision. It’s been three days since he saw you cry in front of him. No matter what he does, his mind keeps wandering back to you. It’s like you’ve been ingrained in his memory and there’s nothing he could do about it. Whenever he closes his eyes, he’s always greeted with the same scene. 

You speaking through your tears as you break down. Your entire body trembling like a fallen leaf. But what struck him the most was the look in your eyes. It was fear. Pure fear and he knows that look very well, for he had gone through the same thing. It’s the type of fear that one will have whenever they are told they will never be good enough. It’s the type of fear that one will have in a suffocating household—a household that only cares about success, fame and nothing else. Nothing more and nothing less. 

“Dude, what’s gotten into you?” One of the dancers asked, shaking him out of his train of thoughts. 

Riki blinked. “Huh?”

“You’ve been acting weird lately. Like you’re always lost in your own thoughts,” one of the dancers pointed out, the others nodding in agreement, “wait, don’t tell me you got a crush on a girl?” 

“Idiot, he’s dating (Name). He’s not like you,” another dancer retorted, playfully smacking the back of his head with his hand. 

Riki rolled his eyes, raising his left leg so he could rest his arm on his left knee. His right leg remained laying on the floor. “He’s wrong about one thing: I’ll never be like you guys, who thinks cheating on your partner is fun. It’s not. It only makes you the worst of the worst.”

The two guys shared a look while the others who were still in the studio, did a poor job of concealing the fact that they are listening in. “Woah, dude, chill. We were just joking around—”

Riki rose to his full height, hovering over them who were seated on the floor. “Joking around? That’s not something you should be making fun of. It’s wrong and you’re not being considerate of your partner’s feelings!” 

They’ve never seen him like this, too used to him being sarcastic, chill and sometimes, too laid-back. But this? This was different. It’s like Riki had become a whole different person. 

“Do you even realize what that kind of behavior does to someone?” Riki’s voice rose, shaky now, like it was fighting against the storm inside him. “Do you know what it feels like to give someone everything, only to find out it was a joke to them? That they never cared about you at all?”

Silence.

At this rate, everyone left in the studio were watching them. Some had stopped packing. Some had stopped stretching. But most importantly, everyone had stopped talking. Their eyes were on him, watching him like he’s the lead performer of the stage. 

He stepped forward, fists clenched at his sides, breathing hard as if he was trying to force the words out.

“You think it’s cool to cheat? To lie? To mess around like it doesn’t mean anything?” he spat. “It does mean something. And the person you’re with? They’re not just some placeholder for your ego.”

One of the dancers felt guilty for his words. “Riki, I—”

He shook his head, bending to snatch his bag and belongings off the floor. “Forget it, I’m not doing this today.”

Riki left the studio, both heart and soul filled with nothing but a mess of feelings he couldn’t understand. Not yet, anyways.  

When he reached home, only to see a familiar pair of shoes resting by the door, anger flowed through his veins. Thankfully, Makoto wasn’t home as she will be staying over at her friend’s home for a sleepover, leaving him alone to deal with his mother’s boyfriend. Riki wordlessly made his way to the kitchen, scoffing under his breath when he walked past them. His mother and her boyfriend—Sip Woojin, were in the living room with their backs facing him. This saves him the revolting sight of having to witness them sucking one another’s faces. 

As he was hungry, he decided to make a quick, simple but fulfilling dinner—Kimichi Soup with rice. There were enough ingredients left in the refrigerator and he got to work, wearing his Airpods to both cancel out their voices and so he could focus on cooking. He was in the middle of dumping a generous portion of kimchi into the pot when someone tapped his shoulder, disrupting his concentration. 

Riki looked over his shoulder, only to see it’s none other than Woojin standing behind him with a friendly smile on his face. The sight of it made him scowled, not bothering to hide his displeasure towards the older man. “What do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy?” 

“Woah, calm down. I’m not here to cause trouble or anything,” the man lets out a hearty laugh, even having the audacity to rest his hand on Riki’s shoulder, who flinched at the touch. 

“Don’t touch me,” he snarled like a ferocious cat, stepping back from Woojin, not wanting to stand anywhere close to him. 

Woojin sighed, remaining where he was while Riki continued adding a mixture of ingredients into the soup: some sliced-up tofu, prawns and the list goes on. Being a dancer requires him to keep an eye out on his diet. He goes to the gym during the weekends to work out as well, giving him a slight fit body build. 

“Look kid, I’m trying my best here but this isn’t going to work if you keep acting like this.” 

Riki paused, turning off the stove once the soup came to a boil and he left the lid on. He fully turned to face the man, nothing but evident annoyance written all over his face. “What the fuck do you even want with me? I’m not interested to have you in my life. Just because you managed to charm my mother doesn’t mean your stupid little antics can work on me.”

He spat, venom seeping into his voice. Riki took a step closer, the atmosphere in the kitchen turning darker when his eyes hardened. “I hope you know that I’ll never accept you as a father. Over my dead body.” 

Riki didn’t give him a chance to reply, grabbing a bowl and filling it with rice that he had dumped into the rice cooker previously. He didn’t want to have his dinner in the same space as his mother and Woojin. Hence, he grabbed a tray so he could carry it that holds the pot, rice and his utensils. Woojin was still standing there, an unreadable expression on his face. Riki scoffed, purposely roughly bumping his shoulder against his while he’s on the way out of the kitchen. 

“Nishimura Ni-Ki, stop right there.”

Great, fuck my life. 

He rolled his eyes, not turning around so his back was facing his approaching mother. He already knew she had the standard expression on her face—frustration and disappointment. 

“What?” He lets out an exasperated sigh. 

“Have your dinner in the dining room. Your father and I—”

Riki whirled around at breakneck speed. It’s a miracle he didn’t spill any of the Kimchi soup he made. “He’s not my fucking father.”

“Silence! Just go to the dining room and sit down. We have something important to tell you,” she snapped, voice firm, leaving no room for arguments. 

Her son had no choice but to oblige, heading to the dining room where Woojin was already seated, pouring himself a cup of freshly brewed tea. Riki sat at the other end of the table, not wanting to be anywhere close to them. His mother strolled in and Riki felt sick to the core, watching as her face softened in adoration as she took her seat opposite of Riki. Woojin silently slides a cup towards her, to which she gratefully nodded her head and rested her hand above his. 

Ahem. 

“Can we just get this done and over with? I don’t have all day,” he interrupted, cutting their sweet moment short. 

The two adults shared a glance and his mother spoke up, hands cupped around her teacup. “Riki, Woojin and I will be getting married at the end of the year, after your Winter Gala.” 

His eyes widened. The pair of chopsticks held in his dominant hand slipped from his grasp, dropping to the marbled floor with a series of loud clattering sounds but he didn’t hear it. He stared at her, searching for her expression for any sign of hesitation. But there was none. Only the warm, tender gaze of a woman who looked like she truly believed this was something to celebrate. 

Riki’s jaw tightened, his free hand curled into a fist underneath the table while Woojin calmly sipped his tea, like he hadn’t just detonated a bomb in his life. 

“You’re fucking what?” Riki finally choked out, voice sharp with disbelief. 

His mother opened her mouth, probably to repeat herself but he already stood up, chair scraping loudly against the floor. 

“You’re marrying him?” He gestured toward Woojin with a flick of his hand, eyes burning. “Seriously? You’re just going to throw everything away for someone like him?”

“Riki—” she began, but he cut her off with a bitter laugh.

“No, don’t ‘Riki’ me right now. Do you even know what you’re doing?” His voice cracked slightly, equal parts rage and hurt. “You’re just pretending like none of it matters. Like Dad never mattered. Like this whole fucking family doesn’t matter.”

“Your father’s been gone for years,” she said softly, but he recoiled like her words were poison.

“And? You can’t just toss Dad aside and replace him with someone like…that!” Riki shouted at the top of his lungs, furiously pointing at Woojin, who was still silent as he observed the scene from the sidelines. 

“Riki, he makes me happy and I want to be happy. Why can’t you understand that?” His mother sighed, exhausted with the constant arguments between her and her son. 

“This isn’t about you wanting to be happy. This is about you being selfish. It’s clear you don’t and never have gave a fuck about me,” he snapped, heaving to catch his breath and he rose from his seat, snatching his tray off the table. 

“I don’t care what you want to do from now on. Just leave me the fuck alone.” 

He said, sparing them one final glance before storming out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway like thunder. He sat by his desk, devouring the meal he made in the span of fifteen minutes. The only evidence was a clean pot and bowl, with not a single grain of rice or a spoon worth of spoon left behind. Riki’s initial plan was to spend the rest of his night gaming away but he was no longer in the mood after his mother’s sudden wedding announcement. He didn’t want to stay at home. 

Which was why he pulled out his phone and immediately called his friend. 

“Hello?” 

“Jake, let’s go to a club and get wasted.” 

One moment Riki was in his room and the next moment, he’s in a club that’s filled to the brim with people. His small group of friends: Jake, Heeseung and Jay were delighted at the invite as it’s been a while since the four of them had hung out together. The four of them managed to snag a table so they could sit and drink to their heart’s content, without worrying about stumbling into random people. Among the four of them, Heeseung has the lowest alcohol tolerance. It only takes him two shot glasses for him to be drunk, giggling to himself here and there. Jay won’t be drinking, as he had to drive the other two home, opting for a can of soda instead.

“So, what happened?” Jay asked, unfazed even when Heeseung rested his head on his shoulders, his cheeks dusted in a light, adorable shade of pink. 

“What?” Riki blinked but Jay shot him a knowing look, leaning back in his seat with his legs stretched out before him. 

“The only time you join us for clubbing is when you’re feeling down. So what happened?”

“Not—”

“Don’t say it’s nothing. Because it surely isn’t nothing, not with how you’ve downed ten shot glasses back to back,” Jake chirped in, pointing at the empty shot glasses that were on the table. 

Riki sighed, running a hand through his hair. “...My mom’s getting married to her stupid boyfriend.”

Jake and Jay shared a bewildered look. Being the more sensible and responsible person of the two, Jay spoke up, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed in a thin line. “Shit, man. We’re sorry about that. What was your reaction?”

“I was against it. I told her she’s doing this for herself and not for the family. Not for me and not for Makoto,” he barked out a humorless laugh, “it was only one year since Dad passed away and she’s already found someone. Now she expects me to welcome Woojin with open arms? Hell no. He can fuck off for all I care.”

He downed another shot glass after he finished. Right now, Riki feels like he’s tethering between the border of drunk and tipsy. His mind feels fuzzy and his body feels lightheaded, despite how he’s seated and not moving about. 

“Riki, I think that’s enough. Anymore shots and you’ll be drunk,” Jake warned him but Riki waved off his words. 

“It’s fine, I can keep going.”

It didn’t help with the fact that Jake sees Riki as a younger brother, always willing to agree with him. Jay could only watch helplessly, rubbing the space between his eyes as his two friends kept going for multiple rounds after that, like there was no tomorrow.

~

Ring, ring! Ring, ring! Ring, ring!

You were in the middle of making notes when your phone started ringing. Not bothering to check the screen, you accepted the call and put it on speaker mode. 

“Hello?”

“Hey uh, are you busy?” 

You heard a hiccup after the question, making you pause to bring your phone closer to you. You don’t recognize the string of numbers reflected on the screen, making you furrow your eyebrows. “Who’s this?”

“Whaaa, you don’t recognize me? It’s uh, what’s my name again? Oh, right! It’s Riki, starting with the letter R!” His words are borderline slurring but you were able to comprehend him, if you focused hard enough. 

That’s when you were able to hear the faint loud booming music in the background on the other line. “Riki, are you drunk?” You asked, despite already knowing the answer. 

“Nooooo… maybe a little. Maybe a lot but don’t be mad.”

You closed your eyes, breathing in and out to swallow the rising anger. “Why are you at the club? Don’t you have classes tomorrow?” 

“Do I? I’m not sure… but I just wanted to call you.”

“Why? And more importantly, how did you even get my number?”

You could hear a muffled giggle from him, able to visualise him swaying on unsteady feet in the club while trying to maintain the current conversation with you. You put your pen down, no longer in the mood to continue your task as you leaned back in your comfortable chair, idly spinning it side to side.

“Doesn’t matter. What matters more is I wanna—hic—hear your voice.”

Your heart stopped for a solid second at his words. But you shook your head to get rid of the thought. After all, he’s drunk and you’re certain he won’t remember a thing when he wakes up tomorrow, with a horrible hangover. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying. Riki, where’s your friends? Or did you go there alone?” You sighed, feeling stressed on his behalf. You don’t even know why you are feeling like this. Sure, you may be in a fake relationship with him but that doesn’t mean you have to care about him like this. Like you’re actually his girlfriend. 

“I dunno.. think they’re probably somewhere else. What was I saying? Oh yea, my mom. She—hic—is getting married to some fucking douchebag at the end of the year.”

Your heart dropped, not expecting him to dump a huge bomb on you out of nowhere. 

“She told me like it’s some happy thing. Like she wants me to be happy and proud of her,” he continued, words pouring out now, drunken and unfiltered, “like—hic—’oh, Riki. it’s after your Winter Gala’—like it’s not a big deal or something.”

You stayed silent, letting him pour his heart out while you listened attentively. This is the first time you’ve heard another side of Riki. Another side that no one, except you, knew and heard of. 

“His name’s Woojin,” he bitterly laughed, no humor heard in it, “I fucking hate him. The way he—hic—treats me, like I’m some kind of auction item to be won over, makes me annoyed. Who the fuck does he think he is? He—hic—came waltzing into my life like nothing happened. Like Dad doesn’t still exist in the house—hic—and he thinks he can replace him.” 

Your eyes widened slightly at the newly-gained piece of information. “Riki—”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just…” He lets out a long, heavy sigh and you can hear nothing but exhaustion in it, “I just wanna share it with someone. Someone who won’t judge me and accept me as who I am.” 

Pursing your lips, you glanced at the clock resting on your table, to see it’s close to midnight. “...Riki, you should head home and get some rest. Trust me, all you need is a good night's sleep and you’ll be feeling better the next day.”

“Noooo, I wanna continue talking to you. Your voice’s soothing,” he whined, sounding like a child. For some reason, you can imagine him as a cute, little duck when he pouts. 

Embarrassingly enough, your cheeks flushed red at his words. You were grateful that he wasn’t around to see it, or he would’ve teased you to the point of no return. Clearing your throat, you spoke to him in a calm, patient tone. Like how a mother speaks to her child. 

“Riki, seriously, you need to rest.” 

“Why does it sound like you’re pushing me away? Do you hate me?” He asks, his voice growing softer but it’s still audible enough for you to hear it. Audible enough for you to detect the sadness in his voice. 

“No, Riki, I don’t hate you,” you replied, the word ‘hate’ sounding all foreign and awkward on your tongue. 

“Hic—R-Really? You don’t?” He mumbled and your heart tightened in pain and pity. Pain because he doesn’t sound sure of your response. Pity because well, you pity him for what he had gone through during his childhood to develop some kind of distrust of the people around him. 

“No, I really don’t,” you murmured, voice as light as a feather. Your ears registered some buzzing sounds followed by different voices before an unfamiliar voice spoke on the other end. 

“Hello, (Name)? Sorry for interrupting your call but this is Jay. I’m a friend of Riki’s and just wanna let you know that I’m taking him home now—Stop pulling on my arm!” He briefly introduced himself, pulling the phone away from his ear to yell at someone. 

You were unable to stifle the chuckle, nodding your head. “Alright, thanks for letting me know. Good luck trying to bring Riki home.”

“Ugh, don’t even remind me. And if you’re curious to know more about his background, you should ask him, face-to-face.”

You blinked, parting your lips but Jay had already hung up, leaving you to stare at the screen in curiosity as you pondered on the unspoken implications behind his words. 

~

The following day, you arrived at Decelis Academy with one motive and only one. There were no classes for the rest of the week as the school holidays are coming. As expected, more than half of the student body had skipped school, choosing to fly to different countries instead. Your family didn’t have the time and luxury to spend the holidays together, due to your father being busy as always and you couldn’t rely on your mother either, who’s rarely at home. You didn’t want to know what she could be doing behind your back. It’s not like you care about her in the first place. 

You head to the council room, dreading what you have to deal with, only for you to pause when you see Riki sitting at your desk, like he owns the place. He had his long legs resting on the table, with him leaning back to the point you actually hoped he fell. His eyes were fixated on his phone, giving you the chance to admire him while he’s distracted. 

You start from the top, watching how some strands of his blonde hair hovered over his eyes. He has a variety of earrings displayed on his ears, ranging from the small-sized, metallic rings to a pair of pins on both helixes. Your eyes trailed down his face, noting how his features are unusually sharp, like both Gods and Goddess had taken their precious, sweet time into creating the most perfect human being in the world. 

He wasn’t wearing the school uniform properly, as expected from him. His shirt was untucked, the hem haphazardly peeking out from the blazer. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, high enough to show off the veins on his forearms. The blazer was nowhere to be seen, which made you roll your eyes. His tie hangs loosely by his neck, the knot on the verge of slipping. Heck, there’s also a silver chain resting against his collarbones like it lives there.

Your eyes moved further down, lingering longer than usual on his long, slender fingers that were currently holding his phone in a gentle grip. His fingers were dressed in chunky rings, a mix of matte black and polished metal that glimmered underneath the sunlight that’s coming in from the windows on his right. 

You’ve never stopped to think about his appearance, always too busy nagging at him, telling him to wear his blazer properly or bickering with him, like the typical married couple. But now, you’re alone in the room with him. Riki hasn’t shown any signs of being aware of your presence. It’s quiet, almost peaceful. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight before you. The sight of Riki being quiet, thumb moving up and down as he scrolled through whatever platform he was on. 

And then it hits you—Nishimura Ni-Ki is insanely attractive. 

“How long are you planning to keep staring at me?” His infuriating smug voice snapped you out of your state. 

You blinked, cheeks warming up when you were caught red-handed. “Why are you here?”

“I was waiting for you, President,” he answered, removing his legs from the desk and plopping it onto the floor with a loud ‘thud’, “you’re coming to Japan with me for four days.” 

Your eyes widened a notch, jaw dropping. You couldn’t believe what you had just heard, hoping your ears were playing tricks on you. But Riki wasn’t joking. He didn’t laugh or tease you. Instead, he waited for your reaction, having risen from his seat with hands shoved in the pockets of his pants. 

“W-What?” 

Riki shrugged his shoulders. “My dad wants to meet you. I’ve told him about you and he wants to see you.” 

Your mouth opened and closed, rebalancing a fish out of water. “...When are we leaving?” That wasn’t the first question you had in mind but your lips moved like it has a mind of its own. 

“In the next two days, I’ll start packing if I were you,” he said in a calm tone, as if he’s talking about the weather, blissfully unaware of your dilemma. 

“Wait, how am I supposed to explain this to my father?” You asked, grabbing onto his forearm when Riki walked past you, ready to leave. 

He stopped, looked down at you with an arched eyebrow. “That’s not my problem, princess. Use that smart brain of yours to figure something out.” He gently knocked your forehead, to which you slapped his hand away with a scowl. 

Riki laughed, unfazed and bid you farewell as he stepped out of the council room, leaving you alone to come up with a solution. 

The next few hours passed in a blink of an eye, with you diligently working away at your desk until it was time to go home. As always, your driver was already waiting for you by the main entrance. For the entire ride, you were quiet, staring out of the window, watching as everything passed you in a blur. You fidget with your fingers, biting down on your bottom lip while countless thoughts flew through your mind at breakneck speed. No matter what you think of, you end up reaching a dead end. 

That was until you thought of something you’ve never done before. Something you didn’t even know it’s possible for someone like you to pull it off. When you reached home, you wasted no time in heading to his private office, entering without knocking. He paused in the midst of typing on his laptop, sparing a singular glance in direction and his eyes narrowed behind the pair of glasses he wore. 

“(Name), didn’t I tell you to knock before coming in?” He asked, leaning back in his seat. 

You swallowed, calming your nerves before speaking. “I’m sorry, father. But Ningning is inviting me and Minju to her house for a sleepover this Wednesday. Is it alright if I could go?” 

Your father merely sighed, returning to his laptop and continued typing. “Go ahead. When will you be coming home?” 

“In about four days or so,” you answered, praying he wasn’t able to hear how loud your heart was pounding against your chest. 

“Alright, fine by me. But I expect you to work on your grades when you’re back. Is that understood? There should be no room for failure,” he raised his head, making direct contact with you.

You nodded, bowing and left his office. It was only when you returned to your room did your legs threaten to give way. After all, you’ve never expected to have the courage to lie to your father. 

~

After spending the remaining two to three days packing and repacking until you’re satisfied and certain your luggage won’t exceed the limit, you were on the way to the airport, at one in the morning. Riki had already sent you the flight details and when you insisted on paying for your share, he threatened to leave you stranded in Japan, leaving you with no choice but to let him win this time. Your parents were already fast asleep when you set off, with your driver driving you to the airport. You didn’t bother informing them that you were leaving, not wanting to gain any unwanted attention and besides, you’re going to ‘Ninging’s house for a sleepover’.

Yeah, as if the sleepover consists of you flying out of the country. 

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you arrived at the airport. Your driver helped to unload your luggage, wishing you a safe flight before driving off. A strong, cold gust of wind kisses your cheeks when you enter the airport, the pair of glass automatic doors granting you entrance. You looked around, spotting Riki seated in one of the comfy couches with the hood of his hoodie drawn up, shielding his face from any curious eyes. 

Riki looked up when you stopped before him, eyes darting between your face and luggage. “Why did you pack as if we’re going for two weeks?” He asked, rising to his full height. That’s when you realized he had packed extremely light—only bringing a black, Prada duffel bag that has everything he needs.

“I just like being prepared,” you retorted, about to follow him when Riki wordlessly reached out his hand towards you. 

“What?” You frowned. 

However, Riki didn’t say anything and extended his hand. You didn’t know why but you placed your hand on his. Riki owlishly blinked his eyes. “Uh, I’m asking you to give me your luggage so I can check it in for you. Why did you give me your hand?”

“O-Oh, right,” you stuttered, withdrawing your hand, acting as if he had some form of contagious virus while you handed him his luggage. 

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” he snickers, finding great amusement in your reaction. 

“Shut up! It’s not my fault when you’re being vague,” you bit back. 

“You could’ve asked but you didn’t. If you wanna hold hands, all you gotta do is ask,” he sends you his signature smug grin that makes your left eyebrow twitch. But you don’t feel as annoyed as before anymore. The reason remains unknown to you and you shoved it aside for now, not wanting to think about it. 

“Piss off.”

“Ouch, didn’t know the President has such a crude mouth on her.” 

Safe to say, the two of you started arguing, exchanging rapid blows of words between one another until you arrived at the check-in counter. The process was smooth sailing, as there was only one luggage and one duffel bag that the both of you had to check in. Once you were given your boarding passes, the both of you entered the Departature Transit Area, where you have about three hours left before your plane arrives.

At Riki’s suggestion, the two of you ate at a twenty-four hour ramen restaurant where he once again, offered to pay. You had already placed your order and were now waiting for your food to arrive. Apart from the two of you, there was only one other table occupied by a family of four. None of you said a word, that was until Riki broke the silence in the form of a question. 

“So, what solution did your brain come up with?” He questioned, looking at you while absentmindedly fiddling with one of his many rings. 

You squirmed in your seat, hands resting on your lap. “...I told my father I’ll be at Ningning’s house for a sleepover.”

He blinked, momentarily stunned as he stared at you. His fingers stilled against the cool metal of his ring, the soft clinking stopped altogether. For a beat, there was nothing. 

Then, the corners of his lips twitched, and a low chuckle escaped from him, which evolved into a full blown laugh that made his shoulders shake. He leaned back, amusement dancing in his eyes with a grin stretching from ear to ear appeared on his handsome face. 

“You?” He said between breaths, pointing at you with disbelief. “You lied to your father? Right in his face?” He laughed again, clearly entertained. “Damn, I didn’t think you had it in you. Not what I expected from Miss Goody-Two Shoes.”

“I’m not a Goody-Two Shoes,” you snapped, going silent when a waiter arrived with two big, steaming bowls of ramen. The fragrance from the clear broth is enough to make your stomach grumble and mouth water. You immediately dug into your food with Riki doing the same. 

Both of you are engrossed in wolfing food down your throat until Riki continued the conversation after swallowing his mouthful of food. “You know, my friends and I talk about you a lot. They always say how you’re sucking up to the teachers and principal, about how you kept trying to show off your smartness and what not.”

You faltered. Sure, you knew there are some students who don’t like you but you didn’t take their hatred into heart. However, it’s a different story when it comes from hearing someone say it out loud and to make it worse, directly to your face too. You dryly swallowed, gradually losing the mood and appetite to continue eating. You cursed yourself when you felt the familiar, stinging sensation formed in your eyes, making your vision blurry. 

But Riki wasn’t done.

“And then, the more I kept talking and hanging out with you, the more I realized you aren’t what people think you are,” his voice softened, a contrast to how he usually speaks which made you look at him, surprised. 

“You may be viewed as the untouchable, fearless, smart and talented President of the Student Council but to me, you’re just a regular girl who wants to live her own life to the fullest. Who wants to seek approval from her father. Who wants to do her best in everything she does,” he paused for a moment, eyes never leaving your face and your breath hitched, not daring to say anything that could ruin the moment. 

“And that’s something that made me realise; you’re just (Name). That’s all there is.” 

You stared at him, unable to utter a single word. You didn’t expect Riki to speak with such…sincerity in his voice, like he was saying nothing but the truth itself. Maybe it was also the way he looked at you. His eyes, features and smile unconsciously softened, his half-eaten bowl of ramen long forgotten. The way he looks at you—like he’s reallylooking at you, does something to your heart, soul and mind. You feel lighter, like a heavy weight was lifted off your shoulders and you’re able to breathe again. 

“You…Why are you acting like this?” You muttered, unable to look him in the eyes as you busied yourself in finishing the remains of your ramen, “and finish your food, will you? We have a plane to catch.” 

Riki sniggered, picking up his chopsticks and lightly nudged your foot with his underneath the table. “If my girlfriend insists.”

“Please, just shut up.” 

Once you’re done with your meals, you walk around the airport to digest your food and pass time. There were many luxurious brands in the airport, with people of all ages walking around while waiting to board their designated planes. You entered a store, deciding to check out the items and you paused when you saw a bag that caught your interest. Your eyes nearly popped out from its sockets at the sight of the ridiculous price reflected on the price tag. Yes, you’re rich and all but you didn’t want to spend an insane amount of money on a bag. You were about to walk out when Riki stopped you, grabbing you by your arm. 

You shot him a puzzled look but he ignored it, waving to get a nearby staff’s attention. “Excuse me? Could you help to wrap this up, please?” He asked, pointing at the bag—the very same bag you were staring at. 

Eyes widening, you immediately gripped onto the sleeve of his hoodie. “Riki, you don’t have to—”

“Shush, I want to. Besides, it’s the least I could do as your boyfriend,” he gave you a playful wink and you swore you heard someone squeal in the background. 

The staff finished wrapping the bag and Riki paid without hesitation. Just like that, you have gotten a brand new bag that costs way more than what a regular human being could probably afford. Soon, it was time for you to board the plane and you weren’t surprised to see he had booked Business Class for the two of you. Passengers taking Business Class were the first to board. You groaned when you realized you had to sit beside Riki, as you made yourself comfortable in your chair, already covering yourself with the blanket provided. 

You were about to pull the divider up when Riki stopped you. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“I don’t want to see your face for the rest of the flight, so I’m temporarily blocking you,” you deadpanned, slapping his offending hand away from the divider. 

Riki’s jaw dropped. “What? You can’t be seri—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as you had already pulled the divider up, effectively blocking and shutting him out.

Finally, some peace and quiet. 

~

The flight from Seoul to Tokyo wasn’t long but it’s long enough for you to get some sleep. Riki had already slipped on his headphones and knocked out the moment the plane took off. Both of you didn’t bother using the inflight entertainment, choosing to catch up on your much-needed sleep instead. Eventually, you arrived at Narita International Airport. You drowsily followed Riki, letting him take the lead as he guided you through the entire process from getting your passport checked to passing security. 

When the whole ordeal was done, he led you to the pick-up area where a man waiting outside a black car was. Riki and the man exchanged words at a rapid speed, speaking in Japanese while you’re completely clueless. The only words you were able to make out from their conversation is Riki saying his full name to the man, who seemed to recognize him and helped to carry your luggage to the boot of his car. 

Riki ushered you to get into the backseat, with him sitting beside you while the man got into the driver’s seat and drove off, the airport getting smaller and smaller until it was out of your sight. 

“What were you talking about?” You asked, looking at the boy beside you. 

Riki hummed, eyes focused on his phone as he texts someone. “Ah, he was asking if I’m Ni-Ki and I said yes. He’s my dad’s driver and we’ll be staying at his place.”

“We’ll be what!?” You shrieked, slapping a hand over your mouth when you had spoken too loud but thankfully, the man paid you no mind, focused on speeding down the expressway. 

He smirked, tucking his phone back into the pocket. “Yup, we’re staying at his place. But don’t worry, you’ll get your own room.”

He paused. 

“Unless you wanna sleep together—”

“Nishimura Ni-Ki!” 

You spent the rest of the ride talking to Riki and it didn’t take you long to arrive at your destination. You knew Riki comes from a wealthy family but you didn’t expect him to be this rich. Rich to the point where the car had to drive through two separate security gates just to reach the main entrance. Rich to the point where his father’s mansion wasn’t just a large house, but an estate—built on a private plot of land so secluded it felt like a different world altogether.

The gravel beneath the tires shifted slowly as the car came to a stop, and your eyes widened at the magnificent sight before you. Towering trees lined the perfectly manicured driveway, providing some form of shade against the harsh rays of the afternoon sun. The mansion stood at the end of it, regal and imposing with wide stone steps, tall glass windows, and ivy crawling up one side. The way it looks is straight out of a painting. 

You turned to Riki, who seemed completely unfazed, one hand lazily resting on the window frame as he scrolled through his phone with the other. “Do you used to live here?” you muttered, still processing the sheer scale of it all.

He glanced at you with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. “No,” he replied casually. “My house’s back home in Korea. My father chose to move to Japan after he got a divorce with my mother.”

Right. The divorce. The mention of it made you remember the phone call he made when he was drunk. You had been meaning to ask him about it but could never find the perfect time or place to do so. You parted your lips, about to ask him a question but the car came to a stop and he had hopped out before you could even say a single word. You had no choice but to step out as well, thanking the driver in broken Japanese when he helped to unload your luggage while Riki tossed his duffle bag over his left shoulder. 

“I feel underdressed,” you mumbled, eyes flicking to the marble lion statues flanking the front door.

Riki snorted softly. “You’ll be fine. He’s probably in his study, pretending to be busy so he doesn’t have to come out and say hi.”

You weren’t sure if that made you feel better or worse. You follow Riki as he enters the mansion, your footsteps echoing clearly against the four walls. Everything feels expensive to the point you forgot that you too, come from a wealthy family as well. You nearly bumped into him when he stopped without warning, causing you to ungracefully stumble over your feet. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” You hissed under your breath, only for you to go silent when you saw an older man walking down the stairs like he owns the place. And he does. After all, that man is none other than Riki’s father. 

If your father is an intimidating, fierce and strict man, then Riki’s father is the complete opposite of him. He is fully expressive, not afraid to show his emotions and greeted you with a warm, fatherly smile that made your heart clenched. He arrived at the foot of the stairs and talked to Riki, his son, in Japanese, the language sounding almost poetic coming from his lips. You stood there, looking away to give the father and son some privacy when they hugged. You swore you saw Riki’s eyes glistened with tears threatening to fall from them but you kept it to yourself. 

His father then turned to you expectantly and Riki took the chance to introduce you to him. You didn’t know what Riki was saying and you could only hope he wasn’t talking shit about you, right in your face. You won’t be surprised though, if that’s the case. You bowed at a straight ninety-degrees with a polite smile on your face, accepting his offer for a handshake. What you didn’t expect however, was for him to speak in fluent Korean, as if he was born and raised there. 

“Hello, you must be my son’s girlfriend, right? You’re really pretty and I’ve heard many things about you. Thank you for taking good care of my son. I’m sure he must be a handful to manage,” his father said. 

You blinked, unable to hide your surprise and he let out a heartful, loud laugh that seemed to bounce off the maison you’re in. “I can tell you’re surprised that I can speak Korean. But not to worry, I get that a lot. I used to live in Korea with Ni-Ki before moving here.” 

You could tell he’s being vague with his response, unaware that you knew he is now a single father but you didn’t point it out, not wanting to come off as rude. Instead, you smiled and nodded. “I see, I do hope Riki has told you good things about me.” 

The culprit merely snorts. “Nah, I told him how you kept nagging at me to wear my blazer and obey the school rules.”

“You!” Your cheeks flushed red, mortified and embarrassed at how he easily exposed you but his father merely chuckled. 

“I think you’re doing a great job, kiddo. But enough about that, I’m sure you’re tired from your flight. I’ll let Riki show you to your room and once you’ve settled down, you can join us for dinner tonight,” he said. 

For the third time in a row, you nodded your head. “That’ll be great, thank you very much.”

His father’s features softened and he ruffled your hair. “You’re a good kid.” He didn’t give you time to ponder about the meaning behind his words and had walked off, heading somewhere else in the mansion, leaving the two of you alone. 

Riki sighed, adjusting the strap of his duffel bag and jutted his head towards the direction of the stairs. “Come on, I’ll show you to the guestroom.” 

Just like before, he snatched your luggage away from your grip, being kind enough to carry it up the stairs while you waddled after him, holding nothing but your carry-on bag. 

You reached the second floor and were brought to the first door you see. Riki pushed it open, moving aside to let you in first. You entered, slowly taking in your surroundings where you’ll be staying for the next four days. 

It was beautiful—lavish, yes—but unexpectedly warm.

Soft golden light spilled from the chandelier above, catching on the muted gold accents that trimmed the cream-colored walls. The king-sized bed was made with crisp ivory sheets and a cashmere throw folded neatly at the foot, inviting rather than intimidating. Plush, oversized pillows rested against a velvet-upholstered headboard, and across from the bed, a sleek fireplace was quietly flickering, giving the room a gentle glow.

A small seating area sat near the wide window, where thick curtains framed a view of a private garden bathed in soft moonlight. The armchairs were cushioned just right, a stack of books placed on the side table as if someone had thoughtfully considered your comfort. You noticed a faint scent of jasmine in the air—subtle, not overbearing.

You turned slowly, taking it all in. “This is... the guest room?” you asked.

Riki leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with faint amusement. “Yeah. If it makes you feel better, the master bedroom’s ridiculous. This is the toned-down version.”

You gave him a look, but your lips tugged into a smile as you placed your bag down on the velvet bench at the foot of the bed. “This is anything but toned-down.” 

“Stop acting as if you’re not rich either,” he retorted, entering your room so he could place your luggage against the wall, wary of not putting it anywhere that could hinder your path.

“Yeah, but I’m not as rich as you. Like all of this,” you paused, gesturing wildly with your hands at the room and everywhere else, “is crazy.” 

“Even the fact that we’re fake dating?” He asks, arching an eyebrow. 

You paused, surprised by the question. You didn’t expect Riki to ask such a…serious question, considering how you’ve agreed to do this for your personal reasons. Heck, the same could be applied for him. Riki was still looking at you, patiently and expectantly. Like he wants to know your answer.

You dryly swallowed. “Yes.. even that.” 

You swore you saw something flickered in his eyes but it was gone when he blinked. Riki rested a hand on his check, faking a betrayed expression. “Wow, after everything I’ve done for you and this is what I get?” 

“Shut up, you haven’t even taken me on a date yet,” you bit back, instantly regretting the words you said when Riki owlishly blinked. 

“Then, let’s go.” 

“W-What?” You spluttered, staring at him all wide-eyed. 

“Let’s go on a date, right now.” 

“Right now?” You repeated his words, sounding like a parrot. 

Riki laughed. “Yes, right now. I can show you the beauty of Japan while we’re at it, as your personal and dedicated tour guide.”

“Sounds like my worst nightmare,” you deadpanned. “But, I don’t think I’m dressed well for it.” 

Riki waved off your concern with a dismissive flick of his hand. “It doesn’t matter. Come on, let’s get going.” 

You scowled, grabbed whatever your personal items along with whatever you needed, dumped them into a smaller and lighter bag that you had shoved into your carry-on and followed him out, ready to explore Tokyo. 

~

When Riki mentioned he’s showing you the beauty of Tokyo, he was not joking. Your beloved boyfriend had taken it upon himself to bring you to all of the tourists' hot spots, forcing you to walk until you swore your kneecaps were about to be dislocated from your body. You’ve never walked this much in your life. In the span of five hours, Riki had shown you nearly six hot spots—something that should be impossible for someone like you, who was so used to having your driver driving you around that this was something new for you to experience. Strange enough, you weren’t complaining. 

Maybe it’s because no adults are around to control you, to tell you what to do and not to do. Maybe it’s because you’re in a whole different country, spending time with someone you never expected. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because you’re with Riki. 

Your eyes landed on him, taking in the mesmerizing sight before you. The sun was starting to set, dusting the sky in a beautiful shade of reddish-orange that made people want to stop what they were doing, admiring the scenery before them. Riki was recording something with a small, film camera he had brought for the trip. He wasn’t aware of how you’re simply staring at him in his own element. 

A gentle gust of wind blew past, caressing your cheeks in a light, fleeting sensation that you would have missed, if you didn’t have to tuck a few stray strands of hair behind your left ear. Maybe it’s the way he kept checking the footage with a small smile of satisfaction, or how he looked at peace despite the chaos, standing in the middle of it all like he belonged in every frame he captured. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the way your heart slowed every time he laughed, low and genuine as he made jokes with you or teasing you to no end. 

Sighing, you hugged your pathetic excuse of a jacket—a light blue, thin denim jack tighter around your body. You involuntarily shivered when a stronger gust of wind flew past you out of nowhere, causing your hair to stand and goosebumps to form. Riki was finally done, satisfied after many retakes and snorted at how you’re shivering, on the verge of freezing to death. He removed his expensive-looking jacket and placed it on your shoulders wordlessly. Your head snapped up to him, startled. 

“Riki, wha—”

He shook his head. “Just wear it. I won’t want you to shiver to death and have my dad cut my head off.” 

“I’m sure he’ll love to see that,” you dryly retorted, fingers now grasping onto the hem of his jacket to tug it as close as possible. Your face turned red when his signature cologne invaded your senses, making you feel safe, like you’re wrapped in his arms. 

Riki rolled his eyes, reaching out to flick your forehead. “As if you can even kill me in the first place.” 

“Ow!” You exclaimed, rubbing the now sore spot. “Try me, bitch.”

“Woah, did I just hear the President cursing at me? Today must be my lucky day,” he faked a dramatic gasp, causing you to roll your eyes at his antics. 

“Yeah yeah. I guess there’s lots of things you don’t know about.” 

“That can be easily fixed.”

You shot him a curious look, crossing your arms. “Oh? And pray tell me what do you have in mind, Mister troublemaker?” 

Riki threw his head back, barking out a loud laugh that startled the people nearby but he ignored them. “That’s a horrible nickname but we can use this chance to get to know more about one another! Maybe about your dreams, passions or hobbies.” 

This time, it’s your turn to raise an eyebrow, mildly impressed. “...Huh, I don’t see why not. But that doesn’t mean I still don’t hate you.” 

“Bah, tomato and potato.” 

“It’s actually tomayto, tomahto and potayto, potahto,” you corrected him.

“Ok Smartypants, I didn’t ask and I don’t care. So, let’s go to a sushi restaurant and have our dinner because I don’t know about you, but I’m fucking hungry,” he replied, grabbing your hand and begin dragging you down the street, ignoring your futile attempts of freeing yourself from his grip. 

The sushi restaurant was quite small, only able to contain not more than twenty tables. There were a few people seated inside. Some were office workers. Some were friends while some were families or couples. Just like the two of you. The chefs greeted you when the two of you entered and Riki returned the greeting with equal enthusiasm, making you sit at the nearest vacant seats, so you could watch the chefs prepare the sushi in front of you. Thanks to Riki’s help and suggestions, you were able to place your order and watch them get to work. 

You watched, captivated by how fluent, smooth and quick they were in molding the sticky, Japanese rice into small, rectangular shapes. They sliced a fat chunk of salmon into thin slices, the meat glimmered underneath the light as they gingerly placed it on top of the rice. They did the same for the other sushi you had ordered and soon enough, you had a plate filled with different kinds of sushi placed in front of you. Riki has also ordered a bowl of fresh Sashami for the two of you to share. 

You grabbed a pair of chopsticks, picking up the first sushi—the one with shrimp meat placed on top, dipped it onto the small plate of soy sauce and placed it in your mouth. You could feel the freshness of the shrimp, tender and juicy. The soy sauce acts as an additional flavor. You swore you saw the white, pearly gates of heaven for a moment. 

“So? How is it?” Riki asked, having observed your reaction the entire time, his own plate of sushi still left untouched. 

“It’s really good. I know Japan’s sushi is amazing but this is beyond my expectations,” you commented, snatching two pieces of tissue paper to dab at the corner of your mouth. 

“You have a little something here,” Riki said, pointing at the left corner of his mouth and you dabbed at it but he shook his head. 

“No uh—just stay still for a second,’ he murmured. 

“What are you do—!?” You asked, only for you to go as still as a statue when Riki leaned in. 

You had to force your muscles to not move an inch, even when he rested one arm on the back of your chair. Even when he’s so close your breaths mingled in the remaining space between the two of you. Even when you could see the faint eye bags residing underneath his eyes. You nearly reached out to push his face away when his thumb rested on the left corner of your mouth, dangerously close to your lips to wipe the rice grains away. 

Riki was calm and cool-headed the entire time. You, on the other hand, felt like you’re on the verge of combusting into flames. After what felt like decades, he moved away and you were finally able to breathe properly. Your heart was still beating rapidly, close to leaping out of your chest. Riki started eating his sushi while you continued, pretending nothing happened. Pretending how there wasn’t some sort of tension that had settled in, only waiting for the right time to develop into something stronger. Something that you won’t be able to avoid forever.

When you’re done with dinner, Riki brings you to a nearby Family Mart to grab some light snacks and drinks before bringing you to an open-air park. You were quite surprised to see there were still people around, despite how it’s already close to nine in the evening. Riki led you to one of the few empty stone tables and chairs for you to sit and chat. You sat down, bringing his jacket closer to your body, shivering when a wind blew past you. 

“You shouldn’t have worn such thin clothes,” he commented, sitting opposite of you while laying out the snacks and drinks, like he was getting ready to serve them in a buffet. 

“Shut up,” you bit back despite knowing he’s right, “in my defence, I didn’t know it’ll be cold when it’s night.”

Riki scoffed, resting his arms on the cool surface on the stone table, his signature infuriating smirk on his face. “Alright, just say you wanna wear my clothes, princess.” 

Your face instantly heats up at his words. “Careful, you’ll get brain damage if you think too highly of yourself.” 

He merely shrugged his shoulders, reaching for the nearest bag of chips and easily ripped the packaging open, sliding it towards you, giving you the first bite. You reached your hand into it, grabbing a generous portion of chips for yourself and used your left hand as a temporary bowl to hold the chips. None of you said a word, basking in the silence as people minded their business around you. Until, you couldn’t take it anymore and blurted it out loud. 

“Do you still remember that you called me when you were drunk?” You asked, looking at him dead in the eyes. 

Your question made him paused—hand hovering in midair with his mouth open. He stared at you for a few seconds, acting as if you had spoken in another language or you had grown another head. He awkwardly and loudly cleared his throat, eyes looking everywhere but you. His shoulders shrink in, almost as if he’s trying to make himself look smaller. 

“I was hoping you had forgotten about it but I guess not,” he muttered, lips curling down in a pout. You had to resist the urge to audibly coo, finding him adorable and endearing, “I was drunk and I didn’t know why I dumped my background on you. I’m sorry about that.” 

You blinked. “Why are you apologising?” 

This time, it’s his turn to blink owlishly at you, bemused. “Uh, because I called you out of nowhere when I was drunk and trauma dumped on you without your consent?” 

Finishing the remains of your chips, you rummaged through your bag to search for your packet of wet tissues. “Yeah well, you weren’t committing a crime or something. And besides, I think you’re kinda cute when you are drunk.” 

You went still the moment realisation of what you just said hits you. Riki, on the other hand, cocked an eyebrow, something akin to amusement and something else glimmered in his eyes. He flashed you a knowing grin, stretching from ear to ear. Adjusting his position, Riki rested his chin on his intertwined fingers. 

“Oh? You think I’m cute?” He purrs, voice lowering an octave, sending shivers down your spine. You swore you short-circulated right there and then too. 

“...No, I think you’re annoying and ugly,” you managed to regain your voice but deep down, you knew you’re lying. It seems like Riki knew too, with how that smug grin stretched wider but thankfully, he didn’t comment on it and changed the topic of the conversation, the grin fading from his face. 

“I think you’ve seen enough to connect the dots. My parents are divorced. My dad moved to Japan while my mom chose to stay in Korea. My mother’s a model, which I’m sure you’ve seen her faces plastered everywhere in Seoul,” he paused, running a hand through his blonde hair. At this point, he wasn’t looking at you anymore. It’s like he’s purposely avoiding your eyes. Like he doesn’t want your pity. Like he doesn’t want you to view him as weak. 

“My father runs a business of his own. The moment I was born, something just…changed,” he said, pausing again. almost as if he’s afraid of what he wants to say. Seeing this, you reached your hand across the table to rest it over his, giving it a light and assuring squeeze. 

“It’s alright, you don’t have to continue if you don’t want to,” you murmured, letting him lace your fingers together, his thumb running along your knuckles. The contact sends your heart flying but you ignore it, due to the seriousness of the current moment. 

Riki stubbornly shook his head. “No, I think it’s time I tell you this—all of me and how I became who I am now.” 

You nodded, not moving your hand away from his, letting him use it to ground himself. 

Riki took a deep breath, calming his nerves and resumed. 

~ 

“Straighten your back. Walk with confidence, like you own the runway. Like you deserve to be walking on the runway.” 

Those were the same few sentences that kept replaying and replaying, like a broken song in Riki’s mind the moment he mastered the ability to walk on his two feet. Unlike other children who get the luxury of running about in the playground while screaming at the top of their lungs, Riki was immediately sent for modelling lessons. His mother paid a hefty amount to hire a tutor, a strict, firm and ruthless woman who he doesn’t bother to remember her name. 

Still, as much as he wished to disobey her instructions, he couldn’t. His tutor is hellbent on making him master the basics until he gets it right, so that they could finish the lesson in the wee hours in the morning, forcing him to skip dinner. Especially when he’s only ten years old—the age where he needs lots of nutrients, in order to have a healthy diet and body. She’s also known to constantly push him past his limits, forcing him to overexert himself. It’s a common sight for him to finish, on the verge of fainting due to the lack of food for many, many hours. 

After what felt like decades, he had finally met her expectations and the lesson ended, much to his relief. Riki didn’t bother walking her to the door, heading to the kitchen immediately where the main chef had already made his dinner, setting it aside for him to eat when he was done. But in the Nishimura household, there’s no such thing as a peaceful dinner. His mother chose to make her appearance, just when Riki had taken his first bite. 

“Why are you out here? Shouldn’t you be taking your lessons?” She questioned him, nothing but disapproval written all over her face. 

Riki stared at her in disbelief. “I just finished the lesson and now I’m eating dinner. You know, the dinner I’m supposed to have five hours ago.” 

“Nishimura Ni-Ki, you will not talk to me that way. I’m your mother and you need to treat me with respect.”

Riki audibly scoffed, making a show of rolling his eyes. “Why should I when it’s clear you don’t treat me with respect. The bare minimum of a human being.”

His mother sees red, stepping forward, ready to give him a slap when his father quickly interferes. “Now, the two of you. That’s enough. Dear, please let him eat in peace and rest for the night. You’ve been too harsh on him recently.” 

The woman swirled around, betrayed that her own husband wasn't taking her side. “You’re siding with him? How do you know he’s telling the truth? For all I know, he could be lying!” 

His father sighed, exhausted with her behavior. “Dear, you and I both know Riki isn’t interested in becoming a model in the first place. Why are you forcing him into this? Don’t you think you’re being—” 

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” she hissed, rudely cutting him off.

While his parents were busy arguing, Riki took the chance to grab his tray of half-eaten food and made a mad dash to his room, where he could eat in peace. It’s normal for him and in the Nishimura household—for a young child like him, to eat in the comfort of his room while his parents’ voices only grew louder and louder. Harsh words were exchanged between them, showing no mercy to one another. 

~

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. You didn’t know what you could possibly say to make him feel better. A part of you breaks when you catch a singular tear droplet rolling down his cheek. You acted without thinking—your free hand reaching out to wipe it away. You were about to pull your hand back, afraid you might have crossed the line when Riki stopped you. He grabbed your hand, pulling it back and pressed his cheek against the palm of your left hand, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into it. 

Normally, you would either be attempting to push him away or making fun of him. Heck, you would even be in a blushing mess but right now, you’re filled with nothing but worried for him. You even moved to sit closer, as if you couldn’t bear to be this far apart from him, despite how you’re only seated across from him. 

“Riki, I..” You paused, biting your lip, uncertain if the words you planned to say will bring him comfort or instead, more hurt. 

He shook his head, sniffling and using his free hand to wipe the tears away. “It’s fine, you don’t have to say anything. Just.. just listen to what I have to say, please.” 

You nodded, “of course, anything, Riki. I’ll listen.” 

~

The first sign something shifted in the mansion was when his parents no longer slept in the same bedroom. Sure, they constantly fought and argued but in the end, they still slept in the same room. Riki, who was already fourteen at that time, only discovered the change when he came home from school, only to pause in the doorway when he saw a group of men carrying a new bed frame into their home. Seeing his father descending from the stairs, he approached him. 

“Father, what’s the new bed for?” He asked, curious. 

Sighing, the man ruffled Riki’s hair, much to his son’s displeasure. “Your mother and I will be sleeping in separate bedrooms from now on.” 

“Oh, but why? Did something happen between the two of you?” 

His question made the man pause, uncertainty flickered in his eyes before they vanished when he blinked. Instead, his father merely smiled in sadness. 

“You’ll understand when you’re older.” 

And Riki left it at that, still too young, naive and clueless to understand the implications behind his words. 

The second sign comes in the form of his parents refusing to speak to one another. At this point, arguments between Riki and his mother became a daily basis. To his mother’s utter disappointment and anger, Riki had fallen in love with dancing. It started when he stumbled upon a video of a famous celebrity—Michael Jackson, when he was in school. He and his classmates were captivated, watching as the man moonwalked across the stage with nothing but confidence and skills that screams plenty of experience. 

Because of that, Riki has been spending whatever free time he has to practice his dance in secret. The last thing he wants is for his mother to find out what he had been doing behind her back. No doubt she’ll be seething with rage. It was tiring—juggling his academic life, attending the stupid and useless modelling lessons and dancing. The only times when he was able to feel free was when he’s dancing.

He wasn’t sure how to put it into words but somehow, he’s able to feel connected to the music. It’s like his limbs have a mind of its own—body able to move in ways he can’t imagine the moment the beat drops. Everything was fine. He’s able to learn what he’s interested in, without anyone knowing. It’s like one of his guilty pleasures, in a sense. 

However, his peaceful moment didn’t last long. 

His life flipped upside down when he returned home from school, only to hear his father yelling at the top of his lungs. Invisible alarm bells went off in his mind. After all, his father isn’t the kind of person to yell or shout. Riki could only assume something serious had happened. Something so serious that his normally cool and composed father had lost his mind. He headed to the living room, where the direction of the voices came from and he hid behind the wall, concealing his presence while he eavesdrops on the conversation. 

“How long have you been seeing him?” His father questioned, his breathing the only thing everyone can hear in the quiet living room. 

“Tell me! How long have this been going on behind my fucking back!?” His father roared, voice booming like thunder. 

Riki’s ears registered the sound of a brown, paper envelope being slammed down on the coffee table in the living room. His father stood over it, jaw tense and fists tightly clenched at his sides. The contents in the envelope spilled out, spreading across the table—revealing a set of glossy photos that shows something that could make the Internet go wild. 

The photos show nothing but the truth. The truth that no one wanted to speak about: his mother, unmistakably her, laughing over coffee with a man who wasn’t her husband. Another photo showed them walking arm-in-arm through a quiet street, far too intimate for strangers. 

“I gave you everything. And this is how you repay me? By spreading your legs for someone else the moment they gave you their attention?” His father snarled, spitting the words out like they are venom. 

Even when Riki is hidden, he could clearly visualise his mother’s expression—her furrowing her eyebrows, arms crossed and shoulders slightly raised in defence. “You no longer look at me the same way as you used to anymore. This would happen and it’s only a matter of when.” 

Riki feels sick to the core, sensing zero regret in his mother’s words. Instead, there was arrogance. Arrogant that her affair had been exposed and how she didn’t have to hide them anymore. 

The sound of glass shattering pierced through the silence, loud enough to make him flinched—startled. Riki lets out a shaky exhale, even going the mile of covering his mouth with his hands, not wanting to be caught by his parents. 

“I’m getting a divorce and you’re signing it,” his father demanded, sending nothing but death glare towards his now ex-wife. “From now on, I don’t fucking care what you’re planning to do.” 

“Fine by me. It’ll do me some good if you’re out of my way,” the woman retorted, turning to leave but his father’s voice stopped her. 

“One more thing: I won’t be staying in Seoul. I’ll move back to Japan, to stay with my parents.” 

Hearing this, the woman looked over her shoulder—expression unreadable. “And what about Riki?” 

“He stays here. He doesn’t deserve you as his mother but it’s better for him to live here, rather than with me.”

And just like that, his parents are officially divorced and his father has moved out, returning to Japan while leaving a small part of him behind with Riki. 

~

When Riki finished with unshed tears glistening in his eyes, you were oblivious to the fact that you too, had started tearing up. It was only when he cupped your face with one hand, gently wiping the tear away with his thumb did you realize you had started crying. Riki forced out a watery, weak laugh. The sound so foreign to you and even him. 

“You silly, why are you crying?” He croaked out. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, your fingers gripping onto his large hand and shook your head. “I—Gods, I’m so sorry for thinking you’re nothing but a cocky and annoying person. I shouldn’t have thought about you that way. I—I’m really sorry.”

You managed to choke out your words, voice barely more than a whisper. Like it’s meant for him and only him. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know you were carrying something that heavy. And I still mocked you. Treated you like a joke.”

His breath audibly hitched. He looked at you—really looked at you—and for a moment, he seemed like he might shatter completely. His usual bravado, the playful smirks and sharp remarks that built the wall around him, were gone, nowhere to be found. All that’s left was the boy who had stood behind that wall years ago, listening to his parents’ love and personal life shattering, right in front of his eyes. There was nothing he could do, except to accept it, no matter how much he wanted to refuse. 

“I was never mad at you for nagging at me,” he said softly, his thumb still brushing your cheek and his other hand had now cupped your other cheek. “That stuff doesn’t really get to me. But... the thought of you looking at me like I’m nothing—just some arrogant guy with a dumb grin—that one hurt, a lot.”

A few tear droplets rolled down his cheeks and this time, he didn’t bother hiding it. 

You moved closer, pressing your forehead against his, your hands tangled with his. “You’re wrong. You’re not nothing. You’re strong, Riki. The strongest person I’ve ever known.” 

He let out a shaky breath. “Don’t say things when you don’t mean them.”

“I do,” you replied, more tears freely streaming down your face and he closed his eyes tightly, as if he’s afraid of seeing your face or hearing the pure sincerity in your voice, “I do mean it.”

He gently pulled back, looking at you with nothing but tenderness. Then, with the softest tremble seen in his lips, Riki leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead. It was light. One blink and you would have missed it. But, it carried everything—the unspoken feelings he had been carrying since young. The very same feelings he had locked up and tossed it aside, building walls around it to protect himself and the people around him. 

“Thank you, (Name). For crying, and for staying with me.” 

~

After that, the atmosphere between you and Riki had shifted. You weren’t sure if it’s for the better or for the worse. Worse meaning for your heart. Riki’s acting differently now—more bold and daring. Bold enough to hold your hand like it’s normal. Like you’re a normal couple, when you’re the furthest thing from that. He likes to be close to you, following you everywhere like a young ducking following its mother. The sight is adorable, in his father’s eyes, who merely sent you a knowing smile, enough to make you blush and look away. 

Unlike before when your conversations are mostly the two of you bickering, it’s now less hostile. You learnt more about Riki—like how he’s the only child in the family, how his role model is Michael Jackson and the list goes on. In return, you had told him things about yourself. 

“You know, my father wants me to take over his company when he retires,” you said, staring at the clear blue sky with your arms behind your head. 

You and Riki are hanging out in the spacious, open-aired backyard in his father’s mansion. The weather is cooling enough, leaving the two of you not in the mood to head out and explore Tokyo. Riki hums beside you, absentmindedly drinking from his can of cold soda. He wore sunglasses, shielding his eyes with his left leg propped on the lounge chair. Today was also your last day in Japan, which means you have to fly back tomorrow. Which also means you have to face reality again, no longer able to move at a slow and lazy pace. 

“What do you want to do then?” He inquired, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes. 

“Me? I wanna be a lawyer,” you answered, turning to fully face him, resting your cheek on the palm of your left hand. 

Riki scoffed, pushing his sunglasses up to reveal his eyes that gleamed in amusement. “You? Becoming a lawyer? Yeah, I can’t imagine that.”

“Hey!” You huffed, “would it kill you to be nice to me?” 

“Yes, I’ll die on the spot the moment I’m nice to you,” he deadpanned, resting a hand on his chest for dramatic effect. 

“You’re so annoying.”

“But you love me anyways.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense!”

On your last day, you decided to have dinner with Riki’s father, who was on cloud nine. He had asked the chef to prepare a whole feast, despite how there’s only three people he’s feeding. You and Riki were dumbfounded when you came down from the room, only to see the dinner table was filled with a wide variety of dishes—ranigng from main dishes like seafood, chicken, pork to appetizers like spring rolls, chicken wings and heck, there was even both rice and noodles. 

“...Dad, I think this is too much,” Riki commented, taking his seat while you sat beside him, mouth watering at the fragrance of the food displayed before you. 

“Nonsense, there’s no such thing as too much food,” his father waved off his son’s comments, happily gesturing for the both of you to eat. And who were you to say no? 

Everyone dug in, the dining table filled with laughter and loud chattering. You felt at peace, blissfully unaware of the fact that Riki’s eyes either lingered on your face or he kept sneaking glances your way. Of course, this didn’t go unnoticed by his father, who hid his grin behind his glass of water. 

“So, how did you two get together?” He innocently asked, causing you to choke on your food and Riki nearly spit out his drink. 

You shared a quick, panicked glance and Riki spoke up, smoothly coming up with a story that sounds believable to anyone who hears it. “We’re classmates and were put together for a project. We spent more time together and thanks to that, I fell in love with her.” 

His father whistled; impressed. You ducked your head, feeling shy at how you’re the centre of attention, cheeks dusted in a light shade of pink. “I see, and (Name), could you tell me what you like about my son?” 

“M-Me?” You squeaked out, voice going an octave higher, head snapping up at the question directed to you. 

The man nodded, looking at you with a warm smile. You could feel Riki’s eyes boring holes into the side of your face. You knew there’s no room for you to escape, leaving you no other choice but to reply to the question. 

“For starters, he’s very annoying and rebellious. I always have to nag at him—telling him to wear his uniform properly, telling him to obey the school rules and the list goes on,” you started, earning an amused snort from his father. Riki playfully nudged your elbow, shooting you an offended look. 

“But, if there’s one thing I admire about him, it’s about his strength. Mental strength, to be exact,” you continued, your voice now steadier as you glanced at Riki, who returned your gaze with amusement and probably something akin to affectionate in his eyes. 

His father listened patiently, silently encouraging you to carry on with a nod of his head. You fiddled with your fingers. “He told me about his past, about how he was forced to do something that he disliked, about how he had no choice but to bow his head and about how he didn’t get to experience the childhood everyone else did. But through that, I see him in a different light now. I see him as someone strong, capable and independent.”

Riki stiffened just slightly beside you but you continued, oblivious. 

“Sure, he acts like he’s untouchable but as you get closer to him and manage to slip through the walls he built around himself, you'll be able to see his true, genuine self. He takes care of the people he cherished in his life. He makes me feel lighter whenever I talk to him, be it our common bickering or simply just talking. But deep down, I know how he tends to hide when he’s hurting, just so he doesn’t be a burden to anyone. Just so no one else has to carry the weight with him.”

You paused, now looking at him, the truth gradually seeping into your words. It’s like you had tuned out your surroundings, now entirely focused on Riki and only Riki. You had forgotten about his father, who was listening to the whole thing silently. 

“But deep down, I wish he won’t push me away and let me in instead. Let me be there for him. Let me be the one who’s able to shoulder the heavy weight he has been carrying, so he doesn’t have to be alone, not anymore. Because we come from the same boat and are going through the same things.” 

Riki had his eyes on you the entire time you were speaking. Gone was the usual playful, smug way. His gaze was unreadable but intense. There’s a type of softness that made your breath catch, like your words had struck him deep, shaking him to the core. But, he didn’t say anything. He merely sat there, quiet but his eyes said everything he didn’t need to say. 

Riki’s father loudly cleared his throat, startling the both of you—who visibly jumped from your respective seats. “I see,” he said, voice calm and warm, “that’s an excellent answer. As expected from the President.” 

But you barely heard him. Because your heart was pounding painfully loud in your chest—and you were completely certain Riki had successfully deciphered the message behind your long answer. 

The rest of dinner passed in a blink of an eye with you eating beyond your limits—something you thought was impossible for you. You kept glancing at Riki here and there but he has been pointedly avoiding eye contact, looking everywhere else but you. You weren’t sure why he’s acting like this—a huge contrast to how he normally was. But the change does nothing but adds worries and doubt to your heart. You had offered to help clear the table but was shooed away by his father, who assures you that he has personal staff who can do that instead, leaving you no choice but to oblige. 

Riki was already making his way up to the second floor and you followed him, hoping you could stop him before he could return to his room. 

“Riki,” you called out tentatively.

He ignores you, continuing walking down the long hallway of the second floor. 

“Riki, what’s gotten into you? Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?” You asked, voice growing softer. 

He ignores you again. 

“Is it about earlier—”

“Don’t,” he cut in sharply and your heart dropped. 

You’ve never heard his tone this cold before—icy, detached, like a switch had been flipped. Riki finally stopped, looking over his shoulder with his bangs shielding his eyes. But you were able to see them—emotionless and empty. Seeing it was enough to send shivers down your spine. 

“Don’t make this into something it’s not.” 

You blinked, voice caught in your throat. “What?” 

“You’re getting too carried away,” he said flatly, “what you said earlier… It sounded real. Too real.”

You stepped closer—just a small step but the way Riki stepped back—wanting to maintain the distance was enough to make your blood run cold. “It was real, Riki. I meant every word.” 

He shook his head, jaw clenched. “This isn’t part of the deal.”

“The deal?” You echoed, voice cracking at the end, “are you really bringing that up now?” 

“Well, I have to,” he snapped, “you’ve already forgotten that this—” he gestured between the two of you “was never supposed to be real. This whole thing started because I need to get the funds and you get to fix your reputation. Don’t tell me you’ve cast them aside?” 

You flinched. “No, I didn’t. I know the funds are important to you but what about me? What about my feelings?” 

Riki ran a hand through his hair, exhaling in frustration. “Those aren’t important. Not in this—a fake relationship.”

Your eyes burned, fists clenched at your sides. “So, you’re saying all of this was never real in the first place?” 

He nodded, and finally looked at you. “Yes, you’re right.”

You sniffled, not bothering to wipe the tears away, letting them freely roll down your cheeks. Through your blurred vision, you could see him falter for the slightest moment, regret hitting him. But it was too late. He had already made his choice known to you. 

“I see. Very well then,” you nodded, turning to retreat to your room and slammed the door shut with a loud bang. 

Your body slid down the door, until you’re on the floor. Your mind was blank, eyes staring at a random spot on the floor beneath you. Riki’s words kept replaying in your mind, over and over again. Your bottom lip wobbled, fresh tears stinging the corners of your eyes. Unable to hold back anymore, you buried your face in your hands—unsure if you want to muffle your cries or hide your face, even though there’s no one else in the room. No one else other than you, who’s drowning alone. 

A strangled sob slipped out as the weight of everything crashed into you at once without warning. The way he looked at you earlier with a softness he tried so hard to hide. The way you dared to believe—just for a single moment, that what you had with him might be more than pretend. That it might be real. That maybe, just maybe, he cared for you too. 

But then, he pushed you away. 

Tears streamed down your face, hot and bitter with your sobs muffled by your palms. Your shoulders shook as you tried to stifle the cries, as if keeping quiet would make it hurt less. 

It didn’t. 

You cried until your chest ached, your breath hitched, your eyes turning red, swollen and puffy and the sleeves of your shirt were thoroughly soaked with your tears. Because Riki had reminded you that whatever existed between the two of you was built on nothing but a lie. The worse part was that you had started to believe it was real, letting yourself get attached and falling into a hole with no way out. 

~

The day for you to return to Korea has arrived. Riki and you had packed your things and were by the main entrance, with his father’s driver waiting. He had dumped his duffel bag in the boot of the car, about to hop in but was stopped by his father, who gestured for him to follow him, heading somewhere near but not too far from the car. Riki spared you a glance before following his father, until they are far enough where you won’t be able to hear them.

“Riki, I know the two of you aren’t really dating,” his father spoke up, and his son visibly flinched, not expecting the truth. 

“Father, I—” 

The man shook his head. “You don’t have to explain the reasons behind it. I heard the two of you yesterday night and that wasn’t nice of you, Ni-Ki. You shouldn’t have said such things to (Name), not when she had been nothing but sweet and understanding to you.” 

Riki pursed his lips, shoving his hands in his pockets as he kicked a small stone to the side. It’s times like these when he feels like he’s ten again, when he got reprimanded by his father for breaking a vase and tried to hide it, without telling him. Even when Riki had gone through a major growth spurt, he felt small under his father’s firm, unwavering gaze. 

“I know, but I’m doing this to protect her. I don’t want to see her getting hurt because of me,” he protested but deep down, he knew he wasn’t telling the truth. 

His father sighed, reaching out to rest his warm, large hand on his son’s left shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “Ni-Ki, it’s time you let someone in. You heard her yesterday. She’s willing to help you and be with you all the way. That’s love right there and trust me, you should act fast or someone else will snatch her away.” 

Riki nodded, exchanging a hug with his father before returning to the car—where you had already gotten in and was passing time by scrolling through your phone. The two of you bid his father farewell as the driver pulls off. The mansion grew smaller and smaller until it was out of your sight. He fiddled with the hem of his hoodie, finding the silence in the car awkward and tense, like he wasn’t used to it. 

“(Name), I—” 

“Sorry, I’m quite tired so I’ll be taking a short nap. Wake me up when we reach the airport,” you answered, not looking at him as you fished out your headphones, slipping it on without waiting for his response and promptly closed your eyes. 

Riki sighed, not wanting to argue with you as it was still early in the morning. He does the same—wearing his headphones and chooses to look out the window instead, watching as everything moves past him in a blur. It took you about an hour or so to arrive at the airport and your flight is scheduled in four hours time, meaning you have about three hours left to check-in and grab a bite. 

Safe to say, the two of you were acting like a couple that had broken up, which couldn’t be far from the truth. But then again: you weren’t an actual couple and none of you had felt like you had broken up, right? You were constantly on your phone—either scrolling through social media or texting someone. Riki could only pray that someone wasn’t a dude. 

When it’s time to board the plane, you had done the same as before—pulling the divider down the moment you sat down. Unlike before when you did it on purpose and mischief, this felt more personal with a clear message sent to him. The message of wanting him to leave you alone. And that stung the most. It stings more than hearing his parents getting a divorce. 

~

Five to six hours later, you had returned home. It was close to midnight and thankfully, your parents were nowhere to be found. It turns out they were away for a business trip and will only return in one month's time. This prove to be good news for you—giving you the much-needed alone space for you, without having your father's watchful eyes everywhere. It allows you to breathe without having to constantly looked behind your back for once.

You didn't bother unpacking your luggage, leaving it aside and went to take a much-needed shower, promptly coming out twenty minutes later, feeling refreshed. You had changed into a set of more comfortable and breathable clothes, now seated by your desk with your legs tucked in. You were in the midst of drying your hair when you saw your phone lighting up, followed by Ningning's profile picture. Sighing, you accepted the call and put it on speaker mode.

"Hello?"

"Hey girl, wanna join me and Minju tonight for some drinks?" She greeted you.

Normally, you would decline, stating how you need to either study or focus on your student council-related works but today was different. Your mind kept drifting back to Riki, to how he was before he firmly drew a line between the two of you. You needed a distraction and it was just nice that Ningning haf offered one to you, on a golden plate.

"Sure, count me in," you answered, hopping off your seat to head to your closet.

"Oh really!? You're actually joining us? Who are you and what have you done to (Name)?" Ningning exclaimed, making you snort and roll your eyes.

"Haha, very funny. Come pick me up in thirty minutes," you said, ending the call without waiting for her response.

You ended up choosing a sleeveless black dress that reached your thighs, topping it off with a thin bold red jacket. You applied some light makeup, followed by spraying perfume on yourself until your room smells like it. You grabbed your personal belongings—phone, wallet, identity card and a few other things to dump it into the black, Prada bag—the very same bag that Riki had oh so generously bought for you. Satisfied with your appearance, you slipped on your heels and left your home. You were just in time as Ningning pulled up to the main entrance.

She whistled when you got into the backseat. "Damn, someone's dressed to impress tonight."

Minju clicked her tongue, whacking the other's shoulder. "You idiot, she's dating Riki. Don't put it like that."

Ningning's eyes widened in realisation as she drove off. "Oh, right. Sorry babe, but does your boyfriend know you're coming with us to the club?"

The mention of the word 'boyfriend' is enough to make your heart tighten. Until now, your friends were oblivious to the whole fisaco you and Riki are involved in. You decided there was no better time than to tell them the truth.

"Uh, Riki's actually not my boyfriend," you confessed.

"What!?" Your friends exclaimed and Ningning nearly slammed her foot down on the brakes.

"It's a long story and I'm not sure if you guys are interested—" You continued but Minju interrupted you.

"(Name), it's alright. Tell us what happen. Remember? We're here for you," she said and Ningning nodded her head in encouragement.

You nearly teared up—feeling touched with how kind your friends are. "Well, it started like this…"

~

Riki returned to a still, unoccupied and silent home, much to his relief. He wasn't sure where his mother was nor does he care about her whereabouts. He dumped his duffel bag on the floor in his bedroom, hopping into the shower, coming out in ten minutes with a towel wrapped around his neck and water dripping from his hair. Riki had changed out of his clothes, now dressed in a black tank top and a pair of grey Chrome Hearts sweatpants. He wasn't hungry as he had ate in the plane and decides to do his laundry.

He threw the worn, dirtied clothes into the washing machine, followed by adding some detergent and set the timer. Riki went to sprawl on the couch in the living room, while waiting for his clothes to be done washing. He scrolled through Instagram, clicking on his friends' stories, getting a glimpse into their current lives and what they were doing.

And then, his screen swapped to your profile picture with his ringtong playing.

Riki froze.

He stared at the screen in disbelief, like his eyes were playing tricks on him. He didn't expect you to call him, not after what he had done. For a moment, he assumed you had misclicked and wasn't supposed to call him. But the longer he stares at your name, the more tempted he was to answer it. But he shouldn't. Not like he has the rights to do so anymore.

Fuck it.

Making up his mind, he accepted the call. "Hello? (Name)?"

"Hello? R-Riki? Hic—is that you?" You answered, words already slurring and barely understandable.

"Wha-? Are you drunk?" He asks, stunned as he didn't expect you to be the drinking type.

You let out a giggle and Riki desperately wished he was there, protecting you and warding off any potential creeps who thinks they have a shot with you. He could imagine the way your lips curled up, your pretty smile lighting up your face and how your eyes glowed like happiness.

"N-No—hic—I don't get—hic—drunk! I'm not—hic—like you," you defended yourself.

Sighing, Riki pushed himself up and leans back into the couch. "(Name), you're stressing me out. Did you went there alone? Where's your friends, hm?"

"D-Dunno—hic, think they're somewhere.. elsewhere—hic. You know, I'm still—hic—sad," you admitted.

"..What are you sad about?" He asks, even though he already knew the answer.

A sniffle.

"It's 'cause —hic—you dummy. Why do you—hic—have to be so—hic—mean to me? You treated me like I'm invisible—hic—out of nowhere, after I—hic—confessed. Do you—hic—really hate me that much? To the point where—hic—you don't even wanna—hic—talk to me?" You asked through your series of sniffles and hiccups.

Riki felt like he got punched right in the guts, his breath leaving his lungs. His blood turned cold. He has never heard you like this before—broken and vulnerable. He tightened his grip around his phone. His heart was screaming, yelling at him to rush to your side and to embrace you with his arms. But he couldn't. Not when he's the one who caused the two of you to fall astray. Not when he's doing this to protect you.

It's like his lips moved before his mind could process it. "No, I don't hate you. In fact, I could never hate you, (Name)."

You went silent on the other line. The only thing he could hear was your sniffles and how he wish he could be there to wipe the tears away. "R-Really?" You muttered, sounding like a child seeking for their mother's approval.

Riki nodded, although you couldn't see him. "Yes, really. Do you trust me?"

"..Yea, I do. I trust you, Ni-Ki."

The sudden usage of his actual name made his heart skipped a beat but he shoves it aside. "Alright, could you find your friends?" Give them a call or something," he paused, looking at the clock before him, "it's getting late."

"Alright, will I be able to talk to you in school?" You asked, hope evident in your voice.

"…Yeah, you will."

"Promise?" You whispered, only audible for him to pick up.

Riki fainly smiled. "Yea, promise."

But deep down, he had already broken it.

~

The next day, you dragged yourself to school looking like a zombie. Your unkempt state gathered many students' attention, their eyes following you as they whispered amongst themselves. You can't blame them, as you've never looked this messy before. Your blazer wasn't buttoned properly. Your tie was hanging loosely around your neck. Your hair was tied in a messy, high ponytail with multiple strands poking out from every direction. You had even wore sunglasses to hide your bloodshot, swollen eyes. You arrived at your first lecture of the day and Ningning was the first among the three of you to arrive, already saving your spots.

"Damn, you look like shit," Ningning said, arching an eyebrow as you plopped down in your seat on her right.

You pushed your sunglasses down, letting her see your eyes and she wheezed. "Thanks, genius. Remind me to never drink with you guys again."

At that moment, Minju had arrived, sliding a takeaway cup of hot coffee and a brown paper bag towards you as she sat on your right. "To be fair, we tried to stop you but you kept drinking like there's no tomorrow. So you only have yourself to blame."

You groaned, knowing she was right as you accepted them and nibbled on the sandwich Minju had bought from the cafe situated across campus. There were still some time left before the lecturer arrives, giving you enough time to finish your breakfast. You were almost done when you saw something that nearly made you choked on your half-eaten sandwich. Hearing that, your friends turned towards the door and the three of you wore matching dumbfounded, stupefied expressions—eyes widening to the point it might popped out from its sockets.

There he is—Nishimura Ni-Ki entering the lecture room, dressed like he's about to walk the runway. He wore two layers of clothes. The inner layer is a simple, white tank top while the outer layer is a thick, black hoodie that has a zip in the middle. He pairs it off with a pair of saggy-looking jeans that looks like it's about to drop if not for the belt snugly wrapped around his waist. But that's not what caught your attention. Oh no, it's the fact that Hana is walking right beside him, an arrogant smirk on her face. Your eyes trailed down and oh.

They are holding hands.

Plop.

Your sandwich fell into the paper bag with a pathetic plop sound, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care. You couldn't look away from the two, watching how Riki seems to be listening to Hana's words, nodding along here and there.

"What the fuck?" Ningning gaped, watching as the two took their seats on the left, rows ahead of yours.

You weren't spared, watching as Hana rested her head on his shoulder and even play with his fingers that were decorated in silver. The sight is enough to make bile rise in your throat. You pushed your sunglasses up when you felt the painfully familiar stinging sensation burning your eyes. Your nails dug into your palms, unable to believe what you were looking at. The lecturer came in and begin the lesson but you couldn't listened, occasionally looking in Riki and Hana's directions.

Your grip tightened around your pen when Riki tucked a few stray strands of hair behind Hana's right ear, leaving her in a giggling, flustered mess. You dryly swallowed, resisting the urge to vomit right there and then. Seeing this, your friends rested their hands on both sides of your shoulders and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

The rest of the lecture passed in a blur. You didn't jot down any notes, unable to focus to a single word that your lecturer had said. When the lecture was over, most of the students started packing up and scrambled out from the room, impatient to leave. You, on the other hand, remained seated with your sunglasses removed. You didn't made any move to pack your things, eyes fixtated on Riki and Hana, watching how they were about to leave.

You weren't sure why but your legs moved before your mind could process it. One moment you were at your seat. The next moment, you were standing before them with your fists tightly clenched by your sides. Hana's smile dropped from her face when she saw you and it was instantly replaced with a scowl, eyes filled with disdain. She crossed her arms, tilting her head to the side with a cocky glint in her eyes. Her manicured nails glimmered underneath the lights.

"Yes? Can I help you?" She asked, voice dripping with nothing but annoyance.

You let out a shaky exhale, eyes flickering to Riki, who was looking at you like a complete stranger. Like he doesn't know you anymore.

"Uh, I was hoping if I could talk to Riki for a second, in private?" You asked in an unusually soft, timid voice—a huge contrast to how you carry yourself.

Hana audibly scoffed, about to say something when Riki stood up, hands shoved in his pockets. "Sure, follow me."

"What? Riki, are you su—"

"Hana, shut up. It'll only take a while," he interrupted, sending her a glare that made her sealed her lips shut. You followed Riki until you're standing outside the room and thankfully, the hallway is already empty as students were now attending their next lessons.

"So? What do you wanna say?" He asks, tapping his left foot on the ground, "I don't have all day."

Your breath caught at his words and tone. "..Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?"

Like you're pretending we're just strangers. Like we were back to square one.

You didn't dare to say those words out loud. Instead, you brought up the call you made when you were drunk. "You promised me, Riki. You promised me that I'll be able to talk to you when we're in school," you choked out, voice borderline cracking.

If you were more observant, you would've noticed the way his shoulders tensed at the mention of the call. You would've noticed the way his jaw tightened, like he wants to say something but he had to hold himself back.

You continued.

"I thought we'll be able to fix things, only for you to come into class, together with Hana. Do you know how I felt when I saw you?" You paused, desperately clutching onto your shirt—right over where your heart lays.

"It felt like I was stabbed right here," you whispered, fingers curled tightly around the fabric. "Like someone ripped into me, grabbed my heart and… crushed it in front of me."

Your voice trembled, thick with the weight of unshed tears. "I sat there, trying not to break down, trying to pretend I don't care—but I was drowning, Riki. And the worst part? You didn't even look at me."

His head dipped slightly, but he said nothing. You pressed on, needing him to hear, needing him to feel it. You need him to know the irreversible damage he had done to you, or else you won't be able to move on.

Riki sighed out of frustration. "I've told you, didn't I? There's nothing real about us. In fact, there was never an us in the first place."

SLAP!

Silence.

Riki ended up facing the right, his cheek turning red with the pain lingering behind. He slowly raised his hand, fingers hovering over his reddened cheek—right over where you had slapped him. He couldn't say anything, too stunned to formulate a response.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!?" Hana's shrill voice pierced through the hallway, shattering the atmosphere that had engulfed around the two of you.

You were roughly shoved aside by her, who was by Riki's side. Your fingers twitched at the sight of her cupping his face as she checked his injury. Ningning and Minju had join the scene as well, protectively standing on both sides, silently daring Hana to try something. She faltered, knowing she will lose and chose to storm off while dragging Riki away with her.

The two returned to the room, coming out a few seconds later with their bags and disappeared after making a turn on their left. Once they were out of your sight, your legs gave way and you collapsed to the floor. Your friends were quick to catch you, preventing you from getting any bruises.

You couldn't take it anymore, tears freely flowing down like a waterfall as you sobbed while being held in Ningning's arms. You couldn't register the sounds you made—like you're an animal being choked to death. Minju tried to comfort you by whispering into your ear but you were too far gone to understand her.

"I hate this," you whimpered, burying your face in the crook of her neck, "I hate falling in love."

Ningning sighed, patting your back lovingly like how a mother does to her child, "Oh (Name)…"

The three of you remained there—in the hallway as you cried to your heart's content.

~

Ever since that day, you had stopped talking to Riki, giving him the same treatment as well. You threw yourself into your duties—working on the upcoming Winter Gala that's happening in three weeks' time. You had just finished working on the announcement letter that will be pasted on the noticeboard and is now rereading it to ensure you didn't missed anything.

To all students,

As per the yearly tradition of Decelis Academy, the Winter Gala will be happening in three week's time, on 11th August 2025, from 7pm to 12am. Please dressed in approriate, formal clothes for the Gala. For this year, the required dress code is blue and white. as long as it is in proper attire.

There are some rules everyone have to follow:

It is a MUST to bring a plus one for the event. Failure to do so will prevent entrance into the event.

Please be on your best behavior during the event, as there will be people from different industries joining as well. Please remember you will be representing Decelis Academy.

Last but not least: have fun.

You let out a soft, humorless chuckle to yourself when you realized you had already broke the first rule. You don't have a plus one for the Gala and you were sure your father will be furious if he finds out you didn't attend. But, at this point, you were mentally exhausted—spending the past two weeks or so getting everything ready for the Gala.

Shaking your head to get rid of any unnecessary thoughts, you printed out the letter and headed to pin it on the noticeboard. The students who were nearby stopped whatever they were doing, moving closer to get a clearer look at the letter. Some started whispering amongst themselves, excited as they discussed about what to wear and who to bring for the Gala.

You stood at the back, watching with a faint, fond smile on your face. You turned, ready to return to the council room when you stopped, seeing Riki stepping out from the studio. He's all sweaty, his skin practically glowing underneath the light. You gulped as he ran a hand through his fluffy, blonde platinum hair. The white, oversized graphics shirt he wore clung to his body, showing off his broad shoulders and slender build.

You forced yourself to look away when you saw Hana approaching him, handing him something. Your heart tightened when Riki wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close and laughed when she squawked, complaining about how sweaty he is. Seeing them together made the familiar painful feeling returned. Not wanting to be in the same space any longer, you turned and retreated to the council room. What you didn't know is how Riki glanced at your retreating figure, until you were gone.

~

The day of the Gala arrived and the large indoor hall that's mostly used for talks had transformed into a ballroom that looks something straight out of a royal fantasy novel.

Chandeliers hung from the high vaulted ceiling, each crystal shard catching the light and scattering it across the room in different colors. The walls were draped in layers of sheer white and midnight blue silk, cascading down like waterfalls of moonlight, embroidered with silver thread that shimmered with every breath of wind.

There's a long, frost-kissed carpet that stretches from the entrance to the heart of the hall, bordened by glowing lanterns shaped like delicate winter blossoms. The floor sparkled as if it's dusted with crushed diamons, catching every step with subtle brilliance. Tables dressed in velvet navy linens circled the edges of the room, each set with fine china and glowing centerpieces of enchanted ice roses that pulsed gently with pale blue light.

There was even a live orchestra occupying the stage, playing differnet variations of winter ballads to fit the theme and atmosphere of the Gala. Girls and women entered, dressed in nothing but luxury from head to toe in different shades of blue with some white here and there. Boys and men are dressed in either dark blue or black suits. Soon, the hall was packed and filled with the sound of people chatting while laughing.

Riki entered, impecabbly dressed in a dark blue suit. His hair was neatly pushed back, revealing his forehead and his ears was decoated with a pair of small, silver hoop earrings. Unlike before, he only wore a maximum of four Chrome Hearts rings—two on both index and thumbs. Beside him and holding onto his arm is none other than Hana.

She was dressed like she's the centre of attention—wearing a light, pastel blue strapless dress that flows down at the end. Hana had also wore makeup that enhances her features, making her look like a Goddness. Riki snapped out of his trance when Hana gave a light tug on his arm.

"I'm gonna go and talk to some of the people there, will you be alright?" She asked, pointing to a group of women who Riki recognized as the leaders of a fashion company.

"Sure, go ahead," he nodded, giving her a small smile and she patted his arm before walking away, leaving him alone.

Riki grabbed a glass of white wine from a passing staff, moving to a corner to watch his surroundings. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone—his fellow classmates and the grownups. It's not like he was interested in doing business or wanting to do anything with the corporate world, unlike the students.

Unlike you.

He paused, straightening himself and looks around, trying to spot you among the sea of people. Riki checked his watch, frowning when he realized thirty minutes had passed but there was no sign of you. But he does see some familiar faces—Ningning and Minju with their respective dates for the Gala.

But you were nowhere to be seen.

Riki pushed himself off the wall and walked towards them. Minju saw his approaching figure and nudged Ningning, leaning in to whisper into her ear. The two turned as he stopped before him, faint anger flickered across their faces.

"What do you want? Shouldn't you be with your girlfriend or something?" Ningning snapped, venom evident in her tone.

Riki didn't flinched, ignoring the hositilty directed at him. "She's busy. Where's the President? Shouldn't she be out here?"

This time, it's Minju turn to speak up and she stepped forward. "What's it to you? Haven't you done enough? You led her on, making her think everything you had was real, only to cut her off!"

Ningning had to hold Minju back when she was close to throwing hands, reminding her about how they are in a public setting, where everyone can see what they were doing. Minju resorted to scowling at the taller.

Still, Riki didn't flinched. "I just want to know where (Name) is, please."

Minju sighed. "She's not here. She's staying at home."

Riki's shoulders sagged, eyes widening momentarily at her response. "What? What do you mean she's not here?"

Minju scoffed, crossing her arms. "You have a brain for a reason, so use it. Do you not remember the rules stated in the letter?"

Riki paused, thinking back to the letter he saw on the noticeboard. "Wait, don't tell me…"

Ningning nodded, confirming his thoughts. "Yeah, those without a plus one aren't allowed to enter."

"Shit," he cursed, running a hand through his neatly-styled hair, messing it up, "it's my fault."

"Damn right it is, now let me ask you something, Nishimura Ni-Ki and you better answer this truthfully," Ningning said.

"What is (Name) to you?" She asked.

Riki blinked. He didn't know how to transform his thoughts into words, causing him to hesitate for a moment. He let out a slow breath, eyes dropping to the floor—as if the answer can be found there.

"She's…" He started, quiet, "she's the one person who sees through everything. The one person I can't fool."

He looked up again, and both girls were able to see determination in his eyes and most importantly—honesty.

"I tried pushing her away. I thought it'd be easier. I was doing this to protect her, to protect her from getting hurt. But that was a pathetic excuse when I'm doing this because I was afraid."

He lets out a breathless laugh, laced with defeat and guilt. "And that's when I realised I too, had fallen for her. That I'm too far gone to pretend I don't feel something anymore. I'm in love with her and to me, she's not just someone. She's not the President. She's just (Name), my everything."

The two girls weren't expecting him to be honest, stunned. They exchanged a quick glance that speak volumes. Ningning pursed her lips, reaching into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper, handing it to Riki. His eyes darted between the paper and Ningning's face, eyebrows furrowed.

"What's this?" He asked, accepting it, unfolding the paper, only to see an address messily scribbled on it.

"It's her address. If you really meant what you say, go to her and tell her the truth. Tell her everything," Ningning said softly, giving him a small, encouraging smile.

Riki gulped, clutching the paper tightly in his grip like it's his lifeline. "..I will, thank you, really."

Minju shook her head, waving off his words. "Don't thank us just yet. Invite us to your wedding and we'll accept your words."

Riki laughed and dipped, not bothering to say anything to Hana. Right now, Hana is not important. You are his top priority.

~

I'm sure everyone's having fun at the Gala now.

You sighed for the unknownth time, idily spinning your pen with your right index and middle fingers. Your hair was tied in a messy bun with some strands of hair framing your face. You were dressed comfortably—a faded graphics oversized shirt and a pair of shorts that's peeking out from the hem of your shirt. You could have been at the Gala, dressed in a beautiful dress while mingling with the crowd and talking to some of the famous lawyers there to secure your future.

But no, you weren't. Instead, you were at home, seated by your desk and studying. To be more specifically, attempt to study.

Groaning when the words weren't making anymore sense to you, you took that as a sign to take a break. You headed to the kitchen barefooted, feeling the smooth, marbled floor beneath you as you poured yourself a glass of water.

Knock knock.

You paused, looking at the closed door, thinking you had misheard it or something. You shrugged if off and was about to return to your room when you heard it again.

Knock knock. Knock knock! Knock knock!

"Damn, calm down," you grumbled, heading to the door and opened it without checking via the peephole.

CRASH!

The glass slipped from your hand, shattering into tiny pieces when it's none other than Riki. He's annoyingly handsome tonight. The way the suit clung to him like it's his skin took your breath away. Riki flinched when you dropped the glass, stopping you when you bent down, ready to pick the glass pieces up.

"Don't, I'll do it," he stopped you, hands gently grabbing your wrist—the mere contact sends your heart skipping.

"…What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the Gala?" You whispered, looking down at the floor, unable to look at him. You couldn't.

Shouldn't you be with Hana?

You didn't have to say those words, not when Riki perfectly understood it without you saying it out loud. Riki sighed, thumb drawing invisible circles on your wrists. "Can I come in first, please? I'll clean the mess then explain everything to you."

You should tell him to leave. Tll him to go back to the Gala but you couldn't. Not when your heart was yearning for him. "..Fine, come in," you murmured, moving aside so he could enter your home. You gently closed the door behind him, leading him to the kitchen where the broom and dustpan is.

None of you said anything. You watched, sitting on the couch with your arms crossed as Riki sweeps the glass shards up into the dustpan and dumped it into the dustbin. When he's done, he returned and sat on the other couch at your request for him to sit.

"So? What do you have to say?" You asked, your voice coming out colder than you intended, making him flinched.

Riki fiddled with his fingers, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his upper thighs. "I didn't have a choice. Hana threatened me to either date her or she'll ask the funders to pull out and not sponsor the dance club."

You rolled your eyes, arms crossed as you leaned back in your seat. "What a great start, Riki. And what? You agreed? So, you're doing all of this for your dance club?"

Riki snorts, despite the seriousness of the current situation. "Harsh, but I deserve that. Look, at that point, I don't fucking care about the dance club anymore. Whether the funders want to continue or not, I don't care. I care more about you! And Hana… she knew that," he paused, eyes darting towards your stunned face before to the floor.

"That's why she threatened me by using you," he continued, anger seeping into his voice as he clenched his fists. "I don't know how but she managed to get a hold of your call when you were drunk. She had a whole recording of it too. She told me if I don't be her fake boyfriend, hold hands with her in front of everyone and all that shit, she'll release the recording to everyone on the day of the Gala. She wants to get rid of you, no matter what."

You let out a shaky exhale, disbelief written all over your face. "So is that why you started acting cold out of a sudden? Was it when Hana had texted you? Telling you about all of…that?"

"I thought I was protecting you!" Riki snapped, losing his composure. "I thought that if you hated me, you wouldn't be dragged into her stupid mindgames. I didn't want to lose you, but I couldn't bear the thought of you getting hurt because of me. I was afraid."

Frustrated tears welled in your eyes and you stood up from where you sat. "Which is why you chose to hurt me yourself?"

Riki flinched again, as if your words had struck deep within him. His shoulders sagged with defeat. "I didn't know what else to do. But, every time I see you in class, saw the way you looked at me like I'm some kind of stranger… it killed me. And I thought maybe that's what I deserved."

His voice cracked and you caught it—a singular tear droplet rolling down his right cheek. "But I never stopped caring, not even for a second. And I'm sorry. I'm so—" He moved towards you, now standing directly before you.

"I'm sorry for everything."

Silence pressed between the two of you—thick, painful and heavy. And then, Riki reached out with hesitation, hands hovering in midair—uncertain if he could even touch you before he dropped his hands.

"I just wanted to protect you—even if it means you'll hate me forever."

You stared at him, silently crying, breaking down in front of him. You should say something. Scream at him, telling him about how hurt you felt by him. But instead, your hands shot out, grabbed him by the collar, tugged him down and crashed your lips against his.

Riki went still for a second, mind lagging and it hits him. But then he melted into you, hands flying up to cradle your face with a desperation that speaks volume. The kiss was messy, trembling and filled with unspoken, pentup feelings. Every apology. Every missed chance. Every silent night and torture both of you went through because of one another.

He kissed you like he had been starving for it. Like he had been thinking about it. Like it's the only thing that keeps him alive. When you finally pulled away, just barely, pressing your forehead against his, your breaths mingled in the same shared air space.

"You're a fucking idiot, I hope you know that," you murmured, lips grazing against his with every word you spoke.

Riki breathlessly chuckled, nuzzling his nose against yours. "Yeah, but I'm your idiot now."

"I won't say that."

"Hey!" He whined, making you giggle as you pull him in for another kiss. And another. And another. Until the two of you ended up in your bedroom, bodies melted into one.

~

The white curtains shielding you from the sunlight scatters about as a gentle gust of wind enters the room. You woke up to the sound of birds chirping happily outside, causing you to stirr in your half-awake and half-asleep state. You reached forward, attempting to grab your phone, only to be tugged backwards until you landed against a firm, bare chest.

"Where you going?" Riki mumbled, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his lips grazing against your hickey-covered neck. You involuntarily shivered in his grasp when he purposely rested his hand on your stomach, ready to move lower.

"I was trying to grab my phone to check the time," you softly replied, turning in his hold to fully face him. You smiled when you saw he's already awake and you leaned in, pressing a soft, loving kiss against his lips, chuckling when he chased after your lips.

"Hey, that wasn't a kiss," he huffed.

"Morning breath," you reminded him but he rolled his eyes.

"Whatever," he scoffed, flipping you onto your back with him hovering over you.

"Riki, do—!" You tried to stop him but the moment he kissed you, you went pliant against him.

Your lips moved in a slow, languid pace, like you have all the time in the world. You gasped when Riki traced his hand along the silhouette of your body, like he couldn't get enough. Although the way he had you squirming, crying underneath him yesterday for hours says otherwise.

"Shit, you're so fucking irresitable," he cursed, pulling your right leg up to wrap it around his waist.

You whined at his words, breath hitching as his hand moves closer and closer to where you need him—

Ring, ring! Ring, ring!

Riki groaned at the interruption and you shoved him away, not caring as he tumbled back to the bed with a startled squawk. You checked your phone, to see it was a message from Ningning.

"Fuck, we need to get dressed. Ningning's reaching in thirty minutes," you cursed, pulling the sheets off your body but Riki was faster. He pulled you towards him, until you landed against his chest.

"Riki, I swear! Let go!" You exclaimed, bursting out into a fit of giggles when he ruthlessly tickled your sides.

"Nah, don't wanna," he laughed, planting kisses all over your face, elicting more giggles from you.

"P-Please—pft! M-Mercy!" You choked out, feeling your stomach hurting and thankfully, Riki finally freed you.

"…Do you ever regret moving here?" He asked in a softer tone, resting his chin on your shoulder while intertwining your fingers together.

After graduation, you and Riki agreed to move to another country—Australia, to start a new life. A new life without having to worry about anything. Your father nearly fainted when you told him the news and needless to say, it ended up in an intense arugment. He had attempted to make you stay, by threatening you that if you were to step out of the door, you won't be able to come home anymore.

Safe to say, you stepped out without hesitation. Riki simply packed his things and left without telling his mother. He did informed his father, however, who wasn't surprised and encouraged his son to visit him once in a while and to bring you along.

You managed to land an internship at one of the lawyer firms in Australia—which is one of your biggest dreams. Riki had gone all out, throwing you a celebration dinner to celebrate the occassion. Riki, on the other hand, was scouted by one of an agency for his dancing skills and is now currently conducting dancing lessons. Although, he still hopes to open a dance studio of his own someday.

You looked at him over your shoulder and shook your head. "Of course not. Why would I have any regrets when I'm with you?"

"Such a sap."

"Thanks, I learn from the best."

Both of you laughed, leaning in to close the remaining distance to share a kiss, savoring the moment. And just like that, the past faded behind you, and the future stretched wide open—yours to write, together.

the devil wears uniform taglist: @franboesawi, @zerocoded, @enhxlvr, @kiromiix, @yenienha, @loodie9, @chaewonmyheartt, @dearestdreamies, @jun2ki, @hoonstrology, @chuhees, @beaviu.

[hugs4nikii]

BROO THIS IS SO FCKING GOODDD

— sanctioned, nishimura riki

wc. 24.6k

pairing. yakuza husband! nishimura riki x reader

cw. my attempt at humor and comedy, aged up riki (24), mentions of knives and weaponry, eating and food, violence, kidnapping, psychological and emotional distress, organized crime stuff duh, mature language (sexual innuendos, cursing), our pairing are essentially best friends that got married love this for them, blood and injury, trauma, plot twist (dun dun dunnnn), hurt/comfort, riki's a lil unstable but he means well

synopsis. he told you no, luckily for you—that was never anything you were used to hearing. riki, your headache and your whole damn world didn’t even want you stepping foot into the chaotic sphere that he calls his home. however, you were done playing housewife. but in a world where info is power and an achilles heel simultaneously, love (and riki's sanity) may not be enough to survive what’s next.

author's note!

ciao!! i've been working on this for some time (since may omg). it's been on my mind for some time and it feels good to get it off. i'm very proud of this. i'm down to make this into a part two because i still feel like this could be more. lmkkkk anyways enjoy <333!! OH and @hoonieyun i love you to bits!

partially proofread which is progress for me!!

“No. Absolutely not.” 

“Please?”

“No.”

You followed Riki downstairs, skirt swishing and Mary Janes clacking indignantly against the marble. The long, oversized button-up you wore—his, tailored for you—was the same deep navy as the one he was currently wearing. You always matched. It wasn’t optional. It was a language. A silent message. He didn’t look back.

He never did when he was irritated. Just kept walking, tall and terrifyingly composed, descending the staircase like a man on a mission, still calm under pressure. Black slacks sharp enough to slice, the soft sheen of luxury dress shoes hitting the floor like a metronome. Even without saying a word, Riki made the entire house hold its breath.

Kaminari wasn’t just a name. It was thunder, etched into Tokyo’s underworld like a scar. His great-grandfather had built it from blood and ash in the wreckage after World War II—when the country was fractured and men like him learned to make an empire from silence. Each generation added its layer: first muscle, then money, then myth.

And now, Riki.

Youngest leader in the syndicate’s history. Raised in marble halls and taught to slit throats with one hand while sipping tea with the other. A businessman on paper. A storm in a suit. And your husband.

Riki and you had been married for one year now, dated for three. Granted, your marriage had shocked a lot of people seeing as you married so young, both of you were twenty-three. But you were—are—in love and there’s nothing that could come between the two of you. He was your soulmate and you were his. That, you both were sure of. So as you two walked to your kitchen, passing by staff and giving your maid—Clara—a kiss on the head and a ‘thank you’ as you both sat at the island to eat, you sighed in frustration. “Baby, please.”

Riki, eyes glued to his omelette as he settled into the seat. “I said no.” His dark hair fell over his forehead until he brushed it back—another small movement that looked like art. Now slicing into his food with the shiny utensils that had the family crest carved into them. “Riki, I’m not asking to get in the field and hold a gun. I just want to…be an informant almost. Like your Oracle.” You turned to him, crossing your legs—not even wanting to touch your food now. 

He furrowed his brow incredulously, “Oracle?” He muttered with a mouthful of eggs. 

You nodded with a smile, “Mhm! Like the girl from Batman.” 

“You’ve been watching too much TV, baby.” 

You throw your hands up in frustration. “Because you won’t let me do shit besides that!” You whined, desperate to prove a point.

Since marrying Riki, you have taken up the cushy, spoiled housewife role. And while there was nothing wrong with that, after a while you started to feel antsy. You had bought every bag, every shoe, every diamond, every car, watched every show, even rented out Disneyland for you and Riki to enjoy one day just because you only wanted to go on the Radiator Springs ride. Even the Chanel Private Client Services wasn’t enough.

While you acknowledged the pleasures of being able to spend so indifferently, you started to get restless. There was something about the fact that he was able to go out every single day, going to be productive in more ways than one that made you feel almost…useless. The staff around you stopped bustling, a bit shocked to hear your raise of voice. Even Clara paused, hands folded over a linen napkin, her gaze flicking to Riki like she wasn’t sure whether to intervene or bow out of the scene entirely.

Riki didn’t even blink. He just calmly chewed his omelette like your words bounced off that thick wall of stoicism he kept tightly bolted around anyone who wasn’t you. “I’m not telling you again.”

You didn’t care, you pressed further just because you knew you could. “I know I can do it.” You frowned, “I just wanna help. Most I’ll be doing is sitting at a desk and—”

His eyes looked ahead, nodding once at Clara after she slid him his poured glass of water. But you saw his fingers clamp around the glass. Paling, but his face wasn’t. Riki was calm, tempered as always. At least on the surface but he was patient with you. Something you took for granted. “You know what’s interesting about Oracle?” He said as he sipped his water. You didn’t answer verbally but nodded for him to continue.

“She’s sharp, stubborn, always ready and willing to help. A lot like you.” He gently stabbed the strawberry from the shared fruit bowl in the middle. “She helped Batman and Robin. An amazing partner, she was.” He chewed on the fruit.

You perked up, “See! Then I c—”

He calmly interjected, still not looking at you. But the vibrato of his voice verberated throughout the room. Bouncing off the walls, glass, and stainless steel. “But then one day, Joker shot her. Right in the back. And now she’s paralyzed.”

You blinked.

The sentence lingered in the air like smoke—harmless at first, until it filled your lungs. Riki still hadn’t looked at you. Still ate like nothing had shifted. But everything had. The room was silent. Not the type of silence that asks to be broken—the kind that warns you not to try.

You swallowed. “That’s fiction,” you muttered, softer this time. “That’s not real.”

“Neither is invincibility,” he replied simply. “Not even for people who think they’re behind the screen.”

Finally, he glanced up at you—dark eyes laced with something you couldn’t name. Something heavier than anger, deeper than fear. “You think I’m keeping you out because I don’t think you’re capable?” He chuckled once, dry and humorless. “I’ve seen you lie through your teeth and charm your way out of federal security checkpoints. You’re brilliant. I’d trust you to run the whole damn empire if I died tomorrow.”

Your heart skipped.

He set his fork down. “But I’m not dead yet.”

Then he rose. Just like that.

You expected him to storm off, to make a scene. He didn’t. That wasn’t Riki. He just straightened his cuffs, softly kissed your cheek, gave Clara another kiss on the forehead, and walked out of the kitchen and to the front door with the kind of quiet command that made everyone else shrink. “I love you, angel. Love you too, Claraboo.” The guards fell in around him, black suits rippling like shadows. “I love you too…” You whispered, but loud enough for him to hear it because you knew he wouldn’t leave until he heard you say it. And within seconds, the heavy front doors whispered shut, and the house exhaled a hush that felt a lot like defeat. You stared at the imprint his coffee cup had left on the wooden coaster. Inherited empire, inherited fears. Same old script.

A gentle hand touched your shoulder. Clara. Cinnamon‑and‑steel Clara, who’d watched him grow from toddler to tycoon.

“Tea?” she offered.

You shook your head softly, leaning on the marble with your shoulders slumped and frown etched onto your face. “No thank you, Clara.” The older woman had sort of become your best friend and aunt all rolled up in one over the last few years, sitting right where Riki did. She smiled bitterly as she rested her hand on your cheek. “Young master doesn’t mean to hurt you. Just doesn’t know how to let you help without feeling like he’s failing you.” You blinked up at her, lips parting, but she beat you to the thought. “He thinks protecting you means keeping you in the dark. It’s not fair. But it’s what he was taught. The men before him—his grandfather, his brother, his father at first—they didn’t marry for love. They married for legacy. You? You’re the first thing he ever chose.”

Her thumb brushed along your cheekbone before dropping back to her lap.

“He’s scared.” She said it like it was obvious. Like it wasn’t something Riki would ever say himself. “Not of the enemies. Of what happens to him if something happens to you.”

You exhaled through your nose, scoffing softly at the bitter twist in your chest. “He could just say that.”

Clara smiled gently. “He could. But you married a yakuza, babygirl. Not a poet.”

You cracked a smile—small, but real.

“He’ll come around. Just don’t mistake his silence for stubbornness. That boy listens. Always has.” Your eyes met hers, lashes trembling just a little, because you were tired. Not tired of him—never of him—but of what came with him. The silence. The walls. The feeling that even though you slept next to each other every night, there were parts of Riki that refused to come out from behind that iron curtain in his chest.

“He talks like someone who’s already buried a wife,” you muttered.

Clara sighs, “Because he’s seen it all of his life. Colleagues dying, their wives dying. His mother…” She trailed off. Riki’s mother had been shot and killed when he was two. He hadn’t had any memories of her, just the things that his family wanted him to remember. All of his life he had heard stories of his mother’s laugh, how fun she was, and that one time she accidentally overheated the soup in the kitchen and made the pot boil over and explode all over the counter. Riki had seen no point in being upset over it, he didn’t remember her. In his mind, there was no use mourning someone he never knew. She didn’t mean much to him until he brought you to meet his dad. While you were in the parlor, leg bouncing and nearly hyperventilating, Riki and Mr. Nishimura were speaking in the hallway. Riki would never forget. 

“Her laugh reminds me of your mother’s.”

That was all his father said. Stern and weathered, voice like gravel under boots, but his eyes softened for half a second—just one—as he looked past Riki into the parlor, where you sat nervously smoothing out your dress. Riki stood there frozen. Because in all the years of funerals and retellings, of whispered stories around the dinner table and framed photographs that never moved from the shrine, not once had anyone ever made her real. He’d never known her laugh. But apparently, you sounded like her when you did that thing—laugh with your whole chest, eyes squeezing shut, hands slapping his shoulder even when he barely cracked a joke.

That was the moment his mother became real—not a figment, not folklore.

And that was when fear sunk its teeth into him.

But Clara didn’t need to say anything. You knew. He knew. Everyone did and you couldn’t forget because he wasn’t going to let you. 

So you sat there, knowingly and sighed in resignation. “I just…I love him and I want him to see me as an equal.” You brushed your hair back, jewelry cold on your warm face. “He does, sweetie.” The elder nodded with an endearing smile. “He’s just a prideful and protective man raised by a lot of prideful and protective men. And sometimes that gets in the way. They’ll do anything to ensure the safety of each other. That’s how they were raised. You’re his world, don’t act like you don’t know.”

“I know,” you whispered as you stared down at your doll-like shoes. Rubbing them together lightly and creating a creaking sound with the coated leather.

Clara stood, brushing off her apron. “But if that’s not enough, then…just talk to him. Seriously,” she lightly pinched your cheek. “You know just like I do that he’ll listen.”

She left you with that, bowing before she went to go dust the living room. And you stayed there, heart heavy and at this point, you felt like that same frown was going to become permanent. But you just turned to eat your breakfast. 

Chewing on your omelette and it was cold and bitter, akin to what you thought battery acid could taste like. You frustratedly put the fork back on the plate, and just grabbed your apple juice. Leaving everything else in your wake.

—

Later that day

—

You lay in bed, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the ceiling like it owed you answers. The moonlight spilled through the blackout curtains, painting silver streaks across the sheets—cold and unforgiving. Riki moved around the room with his usual quiet precision, the soft click of his dress shoes replaced by the muted sound of him slipping out of his clothes. You didn’t say a word. Didn’t even flinch when he pulled back the covers and settled beside you in just his briefs. He liked sleeping this way.

He glanced over, catching the set of your jaw, the silent storm brewing behind your eyes. His voice was low, cautious—the kind reserved for moments when words had failed too many times already.

“You still upset?”

You stayed quiet.

Your husband sighed as he stared at you, a mixture of pity and frustration. “I just want you to be safe…” He leaned up on his side as he tilted his head. An idea came to his head as he smiled softly. “I have good news.”

You tightened your arms, still looking to the ceiling and staying silent.

But he kept talking, “While I was out, I got those chocolates you liked. I know you haven’t been able to find them for months. They’re downstairs…I can have Clara bring them up for you.” He said hopefully but you still didn’t dignify it. “And…tomorrow when I get back from work we can finally watch that show you’ve been wanting to. The Vampire Diaries you said?” He reached to lightly brush your cheek with the back of his hand, to which you almost fell for it then but you had more resolve. “I promise not to get jealous when you call that Klaus character sexy.” He smiled gently, hoping to make you laugh but to no avail.

“C’mon, my love.” Riki kissed your temple, “don’t be so mean to me.” He said with near desperation. 

Your eyes flicked toward him for a split second. Just one. That was all he got.

He saw it, too.

“I’m not being mean,” you muttered finally, voice flat. “I’m just tired.”

Riki stilled. His hand dropped back to the sheets.

“That’s not what this is about and you know it,” he said, his voice quieter now, more careful. “You’re punishing me.”

You looked at him, “You’re underestimating me.” He furrowed his brows, “I…no I’m not. I told you earlier. I have no doubts. I love you more than you could ever understand but…you’re naïve.” His gaze wavered for the first time you saw in him, fear. “A-And you get in over your head sometimes. I know you won’t be in direct danger but…it’s enough and that’s all I need to make me say no to you.”

You sat up, “I am not naïve!” 

Riki smiled gently, nodding as he moved his hand to your waist. “Yes, you are.”

“Name one time.”

Riki held your gaze, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was debating whether or not to say it. “One time?” he said softly. “Alright.” He ran a hand through his hair, then let it fall to his lap. “That day you tried to drive yourself to Ryujin’s house across town because ‘it was just lunch.’ No guards. No heads-up.” He paused. “You didn’t notice the car that trailed you for ten blocks. You didn’t notice it double back when you stopped at the café. I did. Because I had someone watching.”

You blinked, jaw dropping in disbelief.

“You brushed it off when I brought it up. Said I was being paranoid. But that same car was on our street the next night.” He leaned in a little, voice lower now. “I didn’t tell you that part. Because I knew it would scare you. And I didn’t want you to feel guilty.”

He exhaled. “You’re amazing. Brave. Smarter than anyone I know. But baby…that’s what makes it worse. You think you can’t be touched.”

“Have you…been touched?” You whispered in defeat.

“Me?” He snorted, “Fuck no,” letting out a small laugh.

“Riki…” you whined as you leaned back onto the headboard with a pout.

“What?” He laughed, but quietly gathered himself for you. “I’m sorry, but no. I haven’t but that’s because this is something that I was born into?” He said it as if it was obvious—because it was. “You married into this life and this is just something you’d have to learn. But it’s been four years of me keeping you away from it and it will stay that way until we both croak over.” Riki nods affirmatively as he lays back down on his back. Eyes leering at the ceiling the same way you were. A beat of silence fell over you two. You hated to push him, but this was the last time you would. “Okay but…at least think about this. I married you because I love you.” You huffed, looking at the ceiling as well. “You, our union, this ring, our family name…it means the world—the universe and galaxy—to me. But I swore to love, honor, and respect you in sickness and health, for rich or poor. But…” You turned to him with gentleness in your eyes. “I promised to protect the integrity of the Nishimura name. That I wouldn’t shame this family, myself, or you. That by becoming Mrs. Nishimura, there’s tremendous responsibility and I’m ready for all of it.” You tenderly pecked his lips, to which he quickly reciprocated. “I love you, and if I ever do anything to make you think I cannot handle this…then pull me out. But don’t just say no if we haven’t even seen how I would do.” 

Riki didn’t respond right away. You watched his chest rise and fall, steady, like he was working through every word you’d just said.

Then, slowly, he turned his head toward you.

“…Okay,” he said quietly. “I’ll think about it.”

You blinked, surprised he hadn’t shut it down completely. But before you could say anything, he leaned over and kissed your forehead—then your lips. It lingered this time. Less reflex, more emotion.

“Goodnight, baby,” he murmured against your mouth.

You nodded, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “Goodnight.”

He waited until your breathing evened out beside him. Waited until your hand slipped from his chest and onto the pillow.

Then, carefully, Riki slipped out of bed and into a silk robe.

He moved quietly, barely letting the bedroom door creak open before he was down the hall, bare feet silent against the marble.

—

The door clicked shut behind him. Clara glanced up from her desk, already halfway into her second espresso. She didn’t even look surprised.

“I figured you’d come,” she said, setting her cup down. “You only knock when it’s about her.”

Riki didn’t smile. Just stood there for a second.

Then: “What do I do?”

Clara smiled fondly, “What you think is best, son.” As she sipped her coffee. 

Riki sat down on the chair in front of her desk with a sigh. “But that’s why I came to ask you.” He gestured to the elder with an annoyed expression but quickly hid it as he actually had respect for her. “She made a good point. Too good. I just don’t want her to get taken advantage of. I don’t want her to lose her light the way so many of us did.” Clara laughed, “You still have your light, Riki.” She leaned back in her chair as she adjusted her glasses. “You didn’t always have it…but she gave it back to you.” He nodded with a firm look. “She did. She’s my light. She’s my—oh gosh—” Riki exhaled firmly as he buried his head in his hands, slightly shaking as he bounces his leg. Anxiety peeking through. “I can’t lose her. I won’t. I will not end up like my dad. I refuse to.” He shakes his head vehemently, his black hair falling in his face to which he swiftly pushes it back. 

“She’s strong. You’re even stronger. Use your strength to help her get there. She just wants you to meet her halfway. That’s all she needs from you.” Clara said softly. “She’s capable and you know it. I believe so.”

Riki looks up at her through hooded lids. “You think so?”

Clara nodded, “I know so.” She stood up and beckoned him to follow her. “Come on,” 

He complied and followed her to the east wing of the home—where his office resided. She used her key to open it and walked to his file cabinet and pulled out a black folder and handed it to him. “Here.”

The tall man scanned the folder and looked up at her. “What’s this for?”

“A test.” she said simply. “Start small. Give her something to handle. If she can carry it—then you talk.”

Riki stared at the folder, thumb brushing over the edge.

“You sure?”

Clara’s eyes didn’t waver. “I’ve never been more.”

—

You sat in the living room, watching another installment of some YouTube gameplay of a horror game. After last night, you had hope. Hope that something in the universe would change the mind of your vexingly stubborn husband. That for once he’d let you have a little more agency than he’d let you have any other day. Though, please don’t misunderstand. Riki wasn’t controlling by any means. He let you do and practically say whatever you wanted. You spent his money, were able to go out at your leisure (not without security), utilize…him as much as you wanted. But especially, he let you argue. Riki never let anyone argue. Being the man he was, prideful and a leader, his word was always going to be the last one. It was his way or no way, and this was the first time he had fought you so hard on something as this only made you want it more. You wanted to help, of course. But you just wanted to be more important to him than you already were. You knew that he loved you, you had never in the four years that you were together doubted the affection he held for you. You had just wished that he let you have a little more freedom. So you adjusted yourself on the couch, your shorts twisting and crop top riding up just a little but it didn’t matter because you had a throw blanket on. Riki entered the living room with something hidden behind his back. “Hello, my love.”

You furrowed your brows, “What are you doing?”

He shrugged as he padded over to the couch and plopped beside you with a knowing smirk. You turned off the TV and turned to face him, giving him your undivided attention. “I have to talk to you about something serious.”

You frowned, “If this is about yesterday then I—” He shook his head with a smile now, “Ancient history, passé.” 

Growing suspicious, you hugged the blanket close to you. “Okay?”

He revealed a black folder from behind him and flashed it with a smile. “Ta-da!”

You shrug, “A black folder. Wow…”

He smacked his teeth with a grunt. “Take it,” he said gently, smiling with tenderness. 

You grabbed the folder reluctantly, opening it to sift through it: three different color USBs, CCTV stills, ledger excerpts, and then a sealable, ivory envelope with a Kaminari recommendation card on it. 

Your heart dropped, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked at him. “No…”

He nodded, smiling, “Yes, but only if—” 

You cut him off by throwing yourself on top of him in excitement. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” The black folder behind you now and your legs tangled with his as you held his face between your hands, kissing him once, twice, a third time just to make sure this was real. Riki laughed into your lips, arms wrapped around your waist, holding you like the choice didn’t shake him a little too. Like giving you this meant everything would be fine. “Wait, woah slow down.” He smiled, “there’s something else too. Come with me.” He stroked your cheek as he helped you up and off of the couch, grabbing the folder. Without a word, you followed him to the east wing as if you were going to his office. But then you made a strong left. This house was so big that there were rooms you hadn’t even seen yet; and you’d been living here for two years. But he handed you a key to a door, the door being right down the hall from his. 

You took it without a word and unlocked the door to see an office of your own. A pink, girly office.

You stepped inside slowly, mouth parting in a silent gasp. It was stunning. Floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the room in soft morning light. White marble floors. Blush-toned walls. Shelves already stocked with delicate file boxes, soft leather notebooks, gold-trimmed pens, and what looked like a crystal lamp shaped like a cherry blossom. Then you looked around in the corner of the room, a plush carpet and loveseat with a mini-fridge. There was a glass desk in the center, wide and sleek, with your name engraved on a pink acrylic placard: Mrs. Nishimura—but underneath, in smaller script, it read:

Behavioral Intelligence Officer

Your knees buckled a little.

“Riki…” you breathed, turning around with trembling hands. “What is this?”

He stood at the doorframe like he wasn’t watching your entire soul ascend out of your body. His smile was slow, private. “This is where you’ll work from now on. The folder stays here. You get full clearance, unmonitored access, your own contact line with everyone, and burner accounts we’ll rotate weekly.”

You stared at him, absolutely speechless.

“You said you wanted to help,” he added softly. “But more than that…you wanted me to treat you like a partner. So here you go. This is me treating you like a partner.”

Tears filled your eyes again, but this time they didn’t sting. They shimmered.

“And I don’t have to…ask permission to come in here?” you asked, still stunned. Riki shook his head, stepping in and running his hands up your arms. “This is yours. It’s your space, your case, your decisions.” He paused. “I’ll still worry, and I’ll still protect you. That’s not up for debate. But this—” He looked around. “This is where I start learning how to let go a little.”

You threw your arms around his neck again, burying your face into his shoulder. “I’m gonna cry all over this expensive-ass marble.” He let out a breathy laugh as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Don’t. I don’t want a slip and fall one day in.” Kissing your temple lovingly, his voice softening. “I love you, you’re Mrs. Nishimura. Not just in love, but in title and it’s time we all started acting like it.”

You peeled off and pulled him down a bit to lay your lips onto his. Resting your hands on his nape as you kissed him like it was the last thing you’d ever do. 

Riki, letting out a groan as he picked you up off of your feet, grabbing your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist. He smiled into the kiss as he massaged your ass in his large hands. “Should’ve done this sooner.”

“Mhm,” you hummed into the exchange as you tilted his head back to start showing his neck some attention.

Riki’s pulse thrummed beneath your lips, his head tipping back just enough for you to taste the faint salt of his skin and the trace of expensive cologne he only ever wore for you. His breath caught—low, rough, entirely at odds with the marble‑cold composure everyone else knew.

He shifted, pressing you against the edge of your new desk. The glass was cool, a soft contrast to the heat rolling off the two of you.

“Careful,” you whispered, teasing your teeth along his jaw. “That’s my desk now.”

He hummed, voice vibrating against your mouth. “Then I guess I’ll just have to get used to doing things your way.” His hands skimmed up the backs of your thighs, thumbs drawing lazy circles that made you shiver. The black folder still sat secure on the far corner—close enough to remind you why you were here, but far enough to keep from shattering the moment. You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes—dark, dilated, a storm held only by sheer will. “Thank you,” you murmured. “For trusting me.”

He brushed a strand of hair from your face, thumb lingering at your cheek. “Thank you for demanding it.” The weight of those words settled between you—equal parts promise and permission. He leaned in again, slower this time, lips hovering at the shell of your ear.

“Lock the door, Officer,” he murmured, a smile in his voice. “We must discuss business.” You squealed in glee as you hopped off the desk and closed the door, clicking the lock and scampering to your desk chair to sit dramatically. Crossing your legs like this was your throne and you were about to speak to one of your subjects. “Behavioral Intelligence Officer speaking,”

Riki smiled at your corniness. “Woah there, Powerpuff Girl. We gotta lay down the ground rules first.” He leaned against your desk, half sitting—his long legs in his signature black slacks looked you in the eye.

Raising your brows in curiosity, you knew this was coming. “Rules?”

He nodded once, “Rules. There are quite a few.”

“What are these rules?” You grabbed the folder to open it but he quickly took it from you, barely leaning forward as his long arms made quick work. “Hey!” You tried to grab it back.

He held the folder out of reach and held his hand up. “Nope, I need your attention.”

You huffed in frustration and leaned back in your chair. “Okay, you got it.”

He nodded, something behind his eyes switching. That domestic, loving, caring husband disappeared and now thunder, cold, and firm boss made an appearance. This is how you know he was being totally serious. “Rule one: you never—and I mean ever—do anything without consulting me. You report to me, you run things by me, you address me. This goes for everyone in the organization. I am the boss, I am your leader, I will be respected as such.” Your eyes widen at his unyielding tone; unsure whether to find this scary or sexy. But you concede, “Okay. Number two?”

Riki nodded, “Number two: one-way door policy. Do you know what that means?” He tilted his head. 

You shook your head with wide eyes. “No,”

He smiled politely, “It means that whatever comes in here, stays here. That folder? Stays here. External drives, put it in the safe.” He points to the hidden safe behind the big picture frame of you two, the photo of him proposing to you in Cabo. “Don’t screenshot anything. Don’t even mention anything outside of here. The only other place that’s acceptable is my office. Understood?”

You nod, “That makes sense, I get it. Understood.”

“Good. Number three: when this button lights, pick up your phone. It means there’s an emergency and someone needs to get a hold of you.” He nods to the clear knob on your PC keyboard. “We haven’t had a situation where we’ve needed to do it for years. But it’s necessary. Simple.” He claps his hands as she slowly paces the room now. “Next rule: Every accusation needs proof. Time, place, motive. You can’t just say you have a gut feeling. I would believe you if you spat on me and told me it was rain. But here, we need proof. No baseless accusations. This goes for everyone, even me.” He put his hands in his pockets, as he looked at the marble floor. Letting himself think, doing that thing with his tongue-in-cheek. “Any questions thus far?” 

Even with receiving all of this information, you shook your head. “No, keep going.”

“Beautiful,” he half-smiles. “Number four, this is a special rule: mental health days for you. Brains work better when they’re not being fried. Take a day to decompress, all of our problems will be there when you get back. And you will stop working at midnight, every night. No exceptions—I’m not going to explain it.” He said firmly. “A few more rules.”

He stopped walking to look you in the eye. “You only break rules to save a life, not for curiosity. It’s cute in a mystery film but people’s lives are at stake everyday here, don’t just do shit for the fun of it.” He comes back to his slow pacing.

“Third to last rule: this,” He gestured around the room, “is all yours. But this position isn’t a sure thing—”

Your jaw dropped, “Riki—” you whined in protest, finding it to be unfair. 

“I’m speaking.” He held his finger up to silence you, to which you complied. Cowering in your seat as you looked at him with a pout.

“You’re going to be headed into this with little training. You’re not used to being under constant pressure, sometimes when you aren’t used to that…well…” He shrugged, “you can choke.” Riki sighed. 

“You think I’m gonna choke?” You applied pressure to your tone, tilting your head in confusion. “I thought you said I was capable.”

Riki’s jaw flexed, eyes flicking up to meet yours—and for a moment, the weight of all this vanished. He looked at you like he always did: like you were the sun wearing heels, a hurricane with heart. But even so, his voice stayed firm.

“I know you’re capable,” he corrected. “But being capable and being ready aren’t the same thing. This isn’t a trust fall, baby. If you fall, someone could die.”

You stared at him. The silence between you stretched just long enough to feel like a power shift. Like you weren’t his wife at that moment—you were his kobun, his chosen partner, sure. But still…new.

You swallowed your pride and gave a tight nod. “Alright. Next rule?”

He sighed again, knowing this one would damper you a little. “No pet names. No ‘baby,’ no ‘my love,’ no ‘babe,’ ‘babe-arsaurus.’” 

“Not babe-asaurus!” 

He gave you a flat look. “Especially not babe-asaurus. We’re not at home. You wanna call me something cute, you do it in the kitchen.”

You snorted, arms crossed as you leaned back in your chair. “So dramatic.”

“I’m serious.” He circled back behind your desk, hands coming to rest on the armrests as he leaned in close. “Pet names blur the lines. And here, we don’t blur lines.”

You blinked. “Okay, edgelord.”

He grinned against your cheek, voice dropping again into that teasing warning. “Keep it up and the next rule’s gonna be ‘no lip gloss if you’re gonna talk back.’”

You raised your brows, daring him. “You gonna confiscate it?”

He took your gloss right out of your shorts pocket like he knew exactly where it was. “First offense: warning. Second offense? I keep it. Third…” He leaned in and whispered against your jaw, “You come to my office to earn it back.”

“Ooh…” you smile as you nuzzle his neck then pull back. “Am I speaking to my husband or Kaminari?”

He smiled back, “Both…but I’m serious.” He raised his brows, “No names.”

You smacked your teeth, “Okay ba—I mean—sir.”

Riki smiled kneeling in front of your chair now. “That turns me on too, but final rule. And it’s the one I’ll break before I ever let you break it.”

He leaned forward, holding your face in his hands. His cool rings melted against your cheeks as he looked you in the eye. “No lying,” he said. “To me. Ever. If you’re scared, tell me. If you messed up, tell me. If you don’t know what to do, you come to me. We do not lie to each other.”

This was an unspoken rule, not only in your career but in your marriage too. The only lie that Riki had ever told you was that he was going to work but was going ring shopping instead. With the candor of his own family—meaning that Riki’s family physically never lied to each other—he saw that lying was the ultimate form of betrayal. The only time that lies were acceptable were under moments of extreme duress (e.g. his job). When you two had discussed deal breakers on your first date he had said ‘lying’ before the question even left your mouth. And funnily enough, he never lied to you. He just withheld things or simply never brought things up until you asked. He never spoke about work, and if you asked about his day then it was: “Today was shitty.” Or “It was good. Just work.” Or “Productive, fortunately.” He never wanted you to know anything because knowing means danger and danger means you die. And it’s not paranoia! No. Never. 

If you asked how a pair of jeans looked on you and he didn’t think they suited you then he’d give a simple “You’ve got better ones, my love.” Riki’s brand of honesty wasn’t mean—just wrapped in a velvet glove with iron beneath. Never cold, never cruel, never abrasive. He just valued the truth and gave it to you whether you liked it or not. Simply, he’d want the same thing from you. He’d rather you hurt his feelings with the truth now than hurt it even more with a lie if—and when—he found out. You never lied to him, even when the truth would hurt more. So now, as he knelt in front of you, thumbs brushing your cheekbones like you were made of glass and fire at the same time, it wasn’t just a rule. It was another vow. Not just for the sake of your marriage but your new dynamic. 

“Not even if it’ll hurt you?” You whispered, leaning your forehead on his.

He closed the gap a little, leaning to place a gentle kiss on your lips; letting it linger. “Especially then,”

“…Is this the part where I get my badge and cool-girl gun holster?” you mumbled against his mouth.

He snorted, pulling back. “You are so annoying.”

“Hot and annoying,” you corrected, poking his chest.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” he sighed, mock-disappointed, before grabbing the case file from the desk. “Alright, dude. Let’s ruin someone’s day.”

—

Riki sat on the edge of your desk again, this time with the folder open in his lap, flipping through it casually—composed as usual. “We have a leak,” he said simply.

Your brows pulled together. “Internal?”

He nodded once. “High-level. The kind of leak that gets people killed.”

You leaned forward in your chair, pulse ticking up. “What kind of intel got out?”

“Shipment logs. Safehouse rotations. Even a few agent profiles,” he said, tapping the page with the back of his ringed hand. “All routed through dead drops in Nishiyama territory. No digital trail. Clean. Old-school.”

You scoffed under your breath, “So we’re dealing with a professional.”

“We’re dealing with a mole.” His voice hardened like concrete setting. “Someone inside Kaminari is feeding information to the Nishiyama syndicate. Which means one of ours is playing both sides.”

You blinked. “A double agent?”

He met your gaze with a heavy look. “Exactly.”

You swallowed. This wasn’t just a briefing. This was serious. “You already have a suspect?”

“I’ve got three.” He flipped to the next tab. “Some important people. Social Liaison, Yuna. Logistics, Jo. Then Sohee, the Accountant. All had access to the stolen intel.”

You reached out, but Riki didn’t hand over the folder yet. “Your objective,” he said, his tone dropping into something deadly smooth, “is to make contact with all three. Casually. I want your read on them. Behavioral patterns. Speech tells. Any inconsistencies.”

You raised a brow. “You want me to profile them.”

“I want you to read them like a book, baby,” he said, before catching himself—then exhaling. “Sorry. Not on the job.”

You smiled a little. “Slipped out. I’ll allow it.”

He looked at you, seriously now. “You’re not just my wife here. You’re the only person I trust to do this clean. No bias, no noise. I don’t need proof yet. I need instinct. Which might contradict a rule but you aren’t making a move yet. That’s up to me…or maybe you depending on how this goes.”

“And if my gut tells me who the leak is?”

He nodded. “Then we build the case. Surveillance, comms trace, movement logs. But you’re the first step.”

You inhaled. “Understood. Where do I start?”

Riki handed you the folder at last.

“Page one. Then you come to the compound with me tomorrow morning.” He smiled, tilting his head. You stood with slight nervousness, shaking your hands as if the feeling was water and you needed to let it dry. “Tomorrow?” You muttered as you paced in front of him slowly. “I’m going tomorrow?”

Riki smiled at your demeanor, “Yes, you will be coming with me tomorrow.” 

“What? So like, do I go in a disguise or something?” You stopped and put your hands on your head dramatically, cropped shirt lifting just a tad to reveal the hem of your bra. Not that you cared, Riki had seen you as naked as the day you were born. Letting out a breathy laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners and that was enough to soothe you. Hearing him laugh. “Sure.” He crossed his arms. “Your disguise will be ‘my wife.’” Riki leaned off of the desk as he approached you. “You’re just going to talk to them. Like I said…read them. Point out red flags, assess a possible motive. But even then, you are not to engage further. No strong-arming. That’s my job.” 

“Because you’re mean to people.”

Riki snorted. “I’m not mean. I’m...assertive.”

You raised a brow. “You once threatened to staple someone’s tongue to a desk.”

He held up a finger. “Because he lied. With confidence. That’s worse.”

You blinked. “You smiled while doing it.”

“And I was right,” he replied, smug as hell.

You muttered something about psycho husbands under your breath and flipped open the folder anyway. Inside were three crisp profiles: one woman, two men. All clean-cut. All smiling in their ID photos. Like one of them could’ve handed someone a kill order and then gone out for ice cream after.

Your stomach twisted just a bit.

“You good?” Riki asked softly.

You nodded. “Yeah. Just a lot to take in.” He paused, reading you again like he always did—too carefully, too much like someone who knew every version of you. The tough one. The soft one. The one who panicked over brunch menus and the one who could lie on cue if called for it.

“You don’t have to prove anything,” he said quietly. “To me. Or anyone else.”

Your eyes flicked up to his. “That’s funny. I thought this whole thing was a test.”

“Oh it is,” Riki pursed his lips. “And you do have something to prove, I just wanted to make you feel better.”

“Whatever happened to not lying?” You furrowed your brows, now getting irritated that he was making a joke of you.

Riki didn’t flinch. “I’m not lying. I’m softening the blow. Totally different.”

You scoffed, folding your arms. “Feels the same from where I’m standing.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping just enough to make your spine straighten. “If I didn’t think you could handle it, you wouldn’t be here. I don’t hand out assignments because of marriage certificates.”

You held his gaze, jaw tight.

“So yeah,” he continued, “it’s a test. But not of your worth. Of your readiness.” Your heart beat just a little harder at that. Not because you were scared—but because you hated how much you cared about passing. How much you wanted him to see you pass.

“…Still feels like lying,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

“Then lie back,” he said, almost a whisper now, brushing a knuckle down your arm. “But I owe you a receipt, though.” Riki pouted his lips mockingly. 

“A receipt?” Your eyes flitted to the side for a moment in confusion.

“Mhm,” he hummed as he sharply pulled you in by your biceps, your chest meeting his upper abdomen as he towered over you. “Don’t think I forgot the tone you took with me yesterday morning.”

Your heart raced and the breath caught in your throat like it had something to lose. His grip wasn’t tight, but it was firm enough to remind you: Riki didn’t bluff.

“I had to assert myself,” you said, chin tipping up even as your voice dipped lower.

Riki smirked, eyes flickering between yours. “Oh, you asserted something, alright. Had me rethinking our marriage vows halfway through my eggs.”

“Should’ve read the fine print,” you quipped, trying to deflect the way your pulse was going off like sirens under your skin.

His smile widened just a bit—dangerous and sweet, like a dare in the dark. “Fine print said mutual respect,” he murmured. “And you disrespected your superior officer, baby.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Superior officer? That’s what we’re doing now? You get off on that?”

“I get off on putting you in your place.” He stroked your cheek with his knuckle as he leaned in, grazing his nose with yours. “I think you forgot who you married.” Something behind his eyes flickered, something dark, menacing, and slightly sinister. He leaned back as he scanned your body. “Go to our room,” he said, voice low and unshakable. “Lose the attitude—and the clothes. I want both off by the time I walk in.”

—

Getting ready the next morning at six ante meridiem was the hardest thing you’ve had to do in a very long time. You don’t know how Riki did it. If it was a solid nine then that was right up your alley. And considering the events of last night, your husband wasn’t exactly forgiving. You were sore as a bitch, with every part and limb aching. Nevermind your glorious dream about riding unicorns in the rain. It didn’t matter because it wasn’t rain, it was your despicable husband shaking his wet hair in your face as your wake up call.

“Grand rising, beloved!” He beamed with a boyish smile.

You jumped up, clenching the linen sheets to your bare chest and gasping for air. “Oh my God.” You grunted as you swung on him, hitting his bare arm. “You’re such an asshole! Fuck you, you scared the shit out of me!” You’re still spent for air as you fell back on the bed and he was towering over you from beside the bed, laughing from the pit of his gut. He grinned, completely unbothered by your assault. “Don’t be mad. You looked peaceful. Like Snow White, but, like...if Snow White had a felony record.”

You tossed a pillow at him, which he caught easily with one hand, the other holding his towel around his waist. “I’m not the one with the felony fucking record.” 

“Well technically I don’t. But if I did then I’ll add something else to my list if you don’t get up.” He tossed the pillow back at your face. You launched yourself at him like vengeance itself, arms wrapping around his neck as you tackled him backward. The towel slipped just enough to make it personal.

“I hate you,” you growled, even as laughter bubbled in your throat.

He caught you mid-flight with that irritatingly perfect upper-body strength, stumbling a little before regaining balance. “Lies,” he muttered against your shoulder. “You were just singing my praises last night.”

“That wasn’t singing, that was—” you cut yourself off, groaning as you buried your face in his collarbone. “I’m too tired for this. Let’s call in rich.”

“We are rich,” he said, smug. “But we’re also very much still showing up, because I’m not digging the ‘sore and cranky’ excuse from you today.”

You sighed and looked up at him, “I would kiss you but you pissed me off and I have morning breath.”

Riki smirked, unfazed, and leaned in anyway. “Lucky for you, I have a piss kink and no sense of smell.”

You smacked his chest, scandalized. “Riki!”

He just laughed, catching your wrist and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Relax, I brushed my teeth for both of us.”

You narrowed your eyes. “That’s not how hygiene works.”

“It is in marriage,” he said, already walking away like he didn’t just say the most obscene things before the Lord Himself was awake. “Now move it. We’ve got a mole to sniff out.”

You stared after him. “I swear, I’m calling HR.”

“I am HR.” he yelled from the bathroom. “You have two hours.”

God help you.

—

“Okay, so what’s the plan?” You exhaled shakily, trying to rub the sweat off of your palms and onto the leather seats of black car. 

“My love, you asked like twi—”

“I don’t care, I’m asking again.” You looked out of the car window, watching the trees turn to mush and blur as the car sped through the highway. “Three people, one woman: Jung Yuna. Two men: Asakura Jo, and Lee Sohee.” He said, carefully, as he soothed your nerves, gently massaging your thigh. “Leak. You’re going to talk to them, get a feel for their personalities. Just…get to know them. That’s all.” He pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder. 

“Okay,” you huffed. “Simple enough.”

Riki gave a soft hum. “Simple, yes. Easy?” He flicked his eyes toward you, a warning there. “Not even a little.”

You glanced at him. “What’s the catch?” He didn’t answer immediately, just adjusted his grip on your thigh and dropped his voice. “One of them’s working with a third-party buyer. We don’t know who. We don’t know why. But we know it’s internal.”

Your brows furrowed. “And they don’t know we know?”

“Exactly. As far as they’re concerned, I’m bringing my sweet, unassuming wife for a fun day at work. Yuna knows me. Jo doesn’t trust me. And Sohee…” he trailed off, pausing. “Sohee thinks he’s smarter than everyone in the room.”

You clicked your tongue. “So you want me to play dumb.”

Riki’s lip curled into that crooked smirk—the one that always meant trouble. “Not dumb. Charming. A little naïve, maybe. But observant. You’re not interrogating them. You’re studying them. I want your instincts, not your analysis.”

“So this is ‘vibes-based’ intel?” You made quotation marks with your fingers.

“This is you-based intel.” His hand slid up your thigh, fingers curling gently. “You see people. You’ve always seen me—even when I didn’t want you to. That’s your edge.”

You fell silent for a beat. “If I’m the edge, what are you?”

“The blade,” he said simply. “So keep it cute. I’ll do the cutting if we have to.”

You let out a breath, heart pounding as the trees blurred past faster now. “Okay. Let’s find our mole.”

—

You entered the expansive compound, smiling and waving at the different people. At times—and the very few times you’ve been here—you forget that this is an organized crime group and not an organization, a conglomerate even. And seeing Riki walk in here was like seeing a switch flip and the light turn on. Gone was your generous, funny, doting lover and now straight-faced, strict, articulate Komichō. It was slightly overwhelming to be able to see someone just turn themselves on and off like that.

So when he walked in, every person lined up to greet him. His kobun, bloodbound kobun. Trained, loyal, and unshakably his. They bowed—not out of introduction, but acknowledgment. You weren’t a stranger here, not technically. They knew your face. They’d watched you stand beside Riki in silk and gold, watched you kiss him with a thousand eyes on your back. But none of them knew you.

Not really.

So when you walked in today—no veil, no curated elegance, no fanfare—there was a shift. A flicker in the way some of them looked at you. You were here, which meant something had changed. You weren’t just the wife anymore. You were part of the inner workings now. At least you and Riki knew that. Still, he said nothing else. He didn’t need to. His presence was enough to quiet any question before it could rise. But the way his hand hovered at your back—subtle, protective, claiming—told the whole room that you weren’t just tagging along. You were trusted.

A few of them looked surprised.

One or two looked uneasy.

And at least one looked curious.

You kept your posture steady, offering a nod of acknowledgment. Cool. Collected. Just another day casually stepping into your husband’s criminal empire. Totally fine. Absolutely fine. Zero panic. Riki leaned in just enough to brush his lips against your temple. “They remember the wedding,” he murmured, “but they don’t know you.”

“Good,” you replied under your breath.

He smirked. “That’s my girl.”

—

You strolled into one of the lounges, making decent use of your time here. You were careful to not immediately get to work as you didn’t want to make yourself super obvious. So here you were, walking around, scaring Heeseung—head of operations—every now and then just because you could. But after about thirty minutes, you decided to pull the trigger on this. Your eyes found Sohee sitting at one of the many tables, tip-tapping away at something on his laptop. Presumably not work-related because this was considered a breakroom. But Riki wasn’t that strict, he didn’t care where the work got done—as long as it was in the building and nowhere else. 

Putting on a friendly smile, you approached the table with politeness. “Hi, Sohee. How are you?”

The guy looked up from his laptop, the blank stare turning to a smile that mirrored your own. “Okaasan, I’m doing fine. You?”

You waved him off with a smile, telling him to drop the formalities and that calling you by your name was more than fine. But he didn’t comply, stating that Riki insisted that they call you Mrs. Nishimura or Okaasan.

“No, I’m telling you to call me by my first name. Please, it’s okay.” Smiling, nodding your head to ensure he felt a little more comfortable in this exchange. Being on a first-name basis establishes comfort. If there’s that then the conversation won’t be so rigid. Sohee smiled gently, being slightly flustered at your friendliness. He hadn’t spoken to you ever and only knew you in passing. He was at the wedding like most of the group but besides that there were very little interactions between you and the other affiliates. No one knew about you aside from Riki’s close friends—some of whom were a part of the group and his groomsmen, and his family by the time of the ceremony. “Of course…” He rubbed his eyes, “But yeah, I haven’t seen you since the wedding. Tell me about married life, how’s it treating you?” You slid into the seat across from him, adjusting your blouse just slightly as you crossed one leg over the other. A friendly smile stayed on your lips, but your eyes had already started their sweep—watching his fingers, his posture, how fast he minimized whatever was on his screen.

“Oh, you know,” you started, tone breezy like the back patio of a brunch spot. “We argue about whether the AC should be at sixty-eight or seventy-two, and then he kisses me. Classic honeymoon phase stuff.”

Sohee laughed politely, but you noticed the slight tug at his lip—like he was trying to decide if it was okay to really laugh. That was good. You liked that.

“It’s different though,” you continued, tilting your head thoughtfully. “Being someone’s girlfriend, and then suddenly you’re…really a part of their life. Your world is one, I guess. Still getting used to the perks.”

He snorted at that, relaxing a little. “I mean, if by perks you mean the estate and a guy named Chan who opens your car door every morning—yeah, not bad.”

You let out a soft laugh. “Exactly. And the complimentary paranoia’s cute too.”

Sohee’s eyes flicked up at you, and for a second, you saw the calculation behind the smile. He was smart. They wouldn’t have put him over logistics if he wasn’t. “You say that like you weren’t built for this. I mean, most people around here kind of expected you to be the accessory. No offense.”

You smiled wider at that. “None taken. Accessories don’t walk themselves in here and sit across from the guy who tracks where all the money goes.”

He stilled—just barely—but you caught it. Bingo.

Before he could volley back, you softened your voice, brushing invisible lint off your sleeve. “Anyway. I’m not here to scare anyone. I’m here to get to know people. Riki’s always talking about how tight-knit the team is. Family, right?”

Sohee nodded slowly, and you could practically hear the mental gears clicking. “Yeah. Family.”

“And family talks,” you said lightly. “Even if it’s just about what’s stressing them out…or keeping them up at night.”

He leaned back slightly, tilting his head. “That’s a very specific way to phrase that.”

You looked at him with a half-smile. “Well. I’m a very specific kind of person. Plus, I spend his money, I gotta make sure it gets where it has to be right?” You try to break the subtle change in vibe with a joke. He bites, somewhat relieved that the woman who has the power to either put him on the unemployment line or in a body bag wasn’t taking him too seriously. 

Despite that, you took it for what it was and whatever he was giving you. Before either of you can stretch the silence too far, the door swings open.

“Heard there were pastries in here,” a voice calls out playfully, and in walks Yuna—light on her feet, dressed like her outfit alone had a LinkedIn profile, and confident like someone who always gets the last word.

Her gaze slides over the room, landing on you and Sohee.

“Oh,” she says, lips curving upward as she closes the distance. “Didn’t know this was a members only table.”

You gesture to the seat beside you. “Not at all. I was just catching up with Sohee. Join us.”

Sohee stands halfway out of his seat in reflex—a gentleman or a little afraid, who’s to say—before awkwardly sitting back down once Yuna waves him off. “So,” she says as she takes a seat, folding her arms on the table and angling herself toward you. “I haven’t seen you since the wedding. You were a vision by the way. I mean, the ceremony? You two could’ve had a Vogue cover, just stunning.”

You chuckle, nodding politely. “Thank you. It was a blur, but I do remember crying over my lashes right before walking down the aisle.”

Yuna laughs, then tilts her head a little. “So, married life? How’s it been? I imagine being Mrs. Nishimura is…an adjustment.”

The way she says it—like she’s biting into something sweet just to test the aftertaste—tells you she’s digging. Not cruelly. Just…curious. Or pretending to be. You tilt your head, mirroring her. “We were just talking about it.” You gesture to Sohee with a smile. “It’s been good.” You always loved to overshare, but it was no one’s business what consisted of your relationship. Namely how well your husband treated you. You had to learn that lesson better now than later.

Yuna hums. “Right. He’s always had that...edge. But seeing him soft for someone? Kind of wild, honestly.”

You smile, gentle but unmistakably proud. “It’s a side of him you have to earn.”

That lands. You see it in the way her jaw shifts just slightly, like the compliment doubled as a subtle door slam.

She nods slowly, playing it off. “Must be nice—being the one person who gets let into the inner sanctum. He doesn’t really do vulnerability.”

You rest your elbow on the table, your chin on your hand. “No, he doesn’t. Which is why I don’t take him for granted.” 

And that right there—that soft, unapologetic weight behind your words—is when the intimidation really hits.

Yuna smiles, but this one doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “You make it look easy.”

Sohee clears his throat, trying to reroute the conversation back to safer shores. “You always had that energy, though,” he says. “Even at the wedding. People were talking more about you than the cake.”

You grin. “Then I hope they weren’t talking about the dress fitting too tight. I ate like four slices of that cake myself.”

“Bold,” Yuna murmurs, sipping her drink. “That cake was like five hundred a slice.”

You glance at her. “When you marry a man who owns the bank the baker owes a loan to, cake isn’t a concern.”

Sohee chokes on a laugh, half trying to hide it. “She’s not wrong.”

Yuna raises an eyebrow, lips twitching. “That sounds like something Komichō would say.”

“He’s rubbing off on me,” you say. 

“Definitely rubbing,” she mumbles beneath her breath as she sipped her tea again, you barely heard it but it was definitely loud enough for you to catch. Your ears perked up at the comment, “I’m sorry?” Tilting your head with a small smile, acting as if you didn’t really hear her. 

Yuna blinked, playing it off, though her smirk didn’t quite fade. “Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

You let out a soft chuckle, resting your elbow on the table and your chin in your hand. “You should be careful doing that around here. People might think you’re losing it.”

Sohee glanced between the two of you, sensing the invisible knife sliding onto the table. “Right, well, I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear anything either.”

“No need,” you said smoothly, eyes still on Yuna. “I just thought I heard something interesting. Wouldn’t want to miss out.”

Yuna gave a small shrug, eyes cool. “Guess my mind wandered.”

“To Riki?” you asked lightly, no edge to your voice but every word precise.

Her lips parted like she might defend herself, but instead she laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re good.”

You smiled wider. “I know I am.”

Sohee cleared his throat again—less out of nerves, more out of self-preservation. It seemed so with him, Riki said he always thinks like he’s the smartest in the room but it might not even be that. Maybe, but he shrinks beneath the gaze of someone bigger. Though, intelligence and bravery aren’t mutually exclusive in this case. Or any of them for that matter. But you didn’t break your gaze from Yuna, not just yet. “Don’t worry,” you finally said, sitting back in your seat with a gracious tilt of your head. “I don’t bite unless I’m hungry.” Your eyes glinted, like the once inquisitive look was suddenly demoted to annoyance. But you knew better than to let her get the best of you. Yuna lifted her tea, trying to cover the shift in her posture—the slight tension in her shoulders, the way her jaw tightened for just a second. “Good thing I’m not on the menu.”

“Of course not,” you said sweetly. You stand, brushing off your skirt as you slide out of your seat. “I’ll be going now, guys. Thanks for hanging out with me.” 

“No problem,” Sohee said with a gentle smile as he stood up to shake your head. To which you nodded respectfully, returning the gesture. “Hopefully we’ll be seeing more of you around here.” You laughed with a nod, “For sure, I’ll definitely be around.” Glancing at Yuna, you smiled gently. “See you around, little one?” You reached out and rubbed her arm, to other eyes it was friendly. Between you two—and maybe Sohee if he squinted—it almost seemed like you were rubbing the metaphorical snot she sneezed onto you, back on her. Sonning her, ‘little girl-ing’ her.

Nonetheless, she smiled. She nodded. And just took it. “Yes, see you around.”

And off you were.

—

Speaking to Riki after that little exchange was definitely on your mind. Seriously it was, every aching part of you was determined to run down on him and question him until he physically choked on his every word. Because for real, what the fuck was that? Why was Yuna so comfortable speaking about your relationship and Riki in such a way? How has Riki made her so comfortable? When has he done that? How did it happen? Who even brought this up to her in the first place? As the five W’s were this close to the edge of your tongue, you decided to save it for later. Not now, no. And it’s not even like you were shy about your marriage. If one couldn’t tell by now, you took any and every opportunity to mention Riki. You swore to your friends that once you got married you would ‘my husband…’ the fuck out of them and everyone else around you. But you didn’t know Yuna, hardly even. You’d known her as one of the heavy hitters—essentially the PR for the group. The Social Liaison. She was delicate, yet biting. Subtle, yet direct. She was gorgeous and that’s exactly why she was appointed, because she was easy on the eyes and no one could dare turn away a beautiful woman. You didn’t feel inferior, there was no reason to. Yuna was Yuna and You were You. Both of you were beautiful young women in a field dominated by men no matter how you sliced it. So to see her be so combative when you didn’t do that to her made you feel like you lost a friend before you could even make one. So as you were on the hunt for Jo, passing through each hallway and scouring every nook and cranny for this guy. You peeped Riki a few feet away in the broad, wide-ranging room. Speaking so firmly to one of the kobun, not making eye contact but nodding along as he walked and they briefed him on something. They were too far for you to hear but he had noticed you, almost like he felt you from ten feet away. He didn’t stop what he was doing, didn’t pause, he was slick as always. Riki kept walking and as he was listening but he made eye contact with you. His gorgeous, alluring eyes followed you as you kept moving but he didn’t smile. He just poked his tongue out—quick, barely there, a flicker of his usual mischief. The kind of look that says I see you, and I know you see me, without saying a single word. It wasn’t apologetic. It felt more like a challenge. Like he was telling you to come find him. To press him. To demand what you wanted to know. At least to you because that’s what you felt like doing. But knowing him, he was just teasing. Letting you know that beneath the hard shell of the Komichō was your childish, teasing, yet loving husband. You held his gaze for a moment longer, then kept walking. Because no matter how much your fists itched to grab his collar and ask him what the hell Yuna meant by that, you had other business to handle. Logistics came first. And Jo—well, Jo was never easy to find. Which was kind of the point.

So you tucked Riki into your back pocket for now, like a loaded question you’d pull out later.

Jo was somewhere in this damn compound, likely holed up with blueprints, phone calls, and at least five burner devices. And if there was anyone (sans Riki) who could give you the real lay of the land—or shift it completely—it was him.

Riki could wait.

You pulled out your phone to shoot him a message, though:

thorn in my side: do yk where jo would be right abt now?

He replied back in a split second.

idiotbox: should be in his office. upstairs, 5th floor. 509.

thorn in my side: thanks

idiotbox: i love you

…

???

i said i love you

i love you baby ????

now girl…

You didn’t even care to respond, you were mad at him for something you only assumed he did and that was childish, of course. You were petty, but so was he and that was how you two worked so well. He’d pick up eventually, but you hated the fact that such a menial exchange had irritated you this badly. But you knew better than to put him in a bad mood at work.

thorn in my side: i love you more babe-asaurus

idiotbox: hm

we’ll talk later

You rolled your eyes at how easily he was able to read you even without seeing you. But whatever, you have a guy to find and Riki was close to your heart as always; but the least of your worries.

Taking the elevator was intense because you hoped that it would be slower, honestly. Like how much of a rush were these guys in? You reached the first to fifth floor in less than two seconds. Now, here you are, scanning the doors and you finally reached Jo’s appointed office and you politely knocked. Waiting for a ‘come in’ or ‘enter’ or ‘who is it’ literally anything. But nothing. You scanned the hallway, peering both ways up and down. No one was around, no one seemed to be passing through and you stepped forward a little bit to put your ear to the door. Also silence. 

Racking your brain, Riki’s words kept ringing in your mind: you are not to engage further.

You are not to engage further.

You are not to engage further. 

You are not—fuck it.

Without another thought you twisted the knob to Jo’s office and as fate would have it, the door was unlocked. You pushed through the door and peeked your head in.

Empty.

So as you slipped in, gently closing the door behind you before locking it, you reminded yourself of what you came here for. It was to get a hold on behavioral patterns, but there’s no harm in scanning. With a shaky exhale, your eyes followed through the space. Very minimal. Only necessary items here: desk, chair, file cabinet, desk lamp, simply essential office gadgets. But as you neared his desk, you spied a ton of papers scattering across it. You hovered, unsure whether you should touch them, but then again, Riki did say not to engage further. He didn’t say anything about observing. Which, in your opinion, made this a grey area. And what were grey areas for, if not you skating through them with barely plausible deniability? The first sheet that caught your eye was a layout of the compound—more detailed than the blueprints you’d seen before. Color-coded zones, timestamped patrol shifts, even ventilation system routes. Jo is definitely playing chess while the rest of these guys are just showing up to the board. The next paper underneath made your stomach pull a little tighter. It was a list. Names. Some you recognized, some you didn’t. Some were marked with symbols: asterisks, slashes, question marks. What you did know was that this was the definitive roster—essentially—for everyone in Thunder. 

Sans one other: Yuna.

Weird.

Then you saw it.

A manila folder tucked half underneath a blueprint sheet. You knew you shouldn’t, but girl—curiosity is a disease. You slid it out just an inch, enough to see the label written in Jo’s tight, deliberate handwriting:

“INCIDENT REPORT — LEAK”

Then another:

“NISHI — CONFIDENTIAL”

You didn’t let your initial shock cloud your common sense. Without another thought you grabbed the two files and shoved them inside of your shirt. Dumb decision, yes. Strange, absolutely. Just as you were heading to the door to make your graceful exit (you’ve been doing a lot of those lately it seemed), you heard footsteps and jingling keys right outside of the door. 

“Fuck!” You mouthed in panic and scanned the room. A sliding closet was your best bet so you took shelter there, squatting at the floor and hugging the cloth covered folders to your chest. Knowing better, you ensured your phone was on silent and not on the hard floor to make noise. 

And not a second too soon.

The lock clicked, the door swung open, and Jo entered—as leisurely as one can be. You watched through the thin slits in the closet door as he moved with practiced ease, the way only someone who expected to be alone did.

He muttered something under his breath, inaudible, as he tossed a USB onto the desk and rolled his chair out with a squeak. You swore your heart was doing parkour in your chest, beating a rhythm so loud you were sure he could hear it.

He started typing.

Clicking, clacking, clomping. Jo hands had left the keyboard to feel for his folders—the absent ones. 

His hands patted the desk once. Then again. Slower.

You could hear the moment he realized something was off.

Click, click.

Rustle.

Click.

Pause.

“…Huh.”

He stood up. You could see his silhouette shift through the closet slats. Jo leaned over the desk again, rifling through papers, lifting one corner of the blueprint like the folders might be playing hide and seek with him.

Another pause. Longer this time.

Then he muttered, low and sharp: “Motherfucker.”

Busted. Not completely, but the clock was officially ticking.

Jo paced once, then sat back down hard, fingers drumming against the desk in a rhythm that screamed calculating. You knew Jo very vaguely—this wasn’t confusion. This wasn’t panic.

This was inventory. This was war.

And you were right there in the middle of it, like a roach under a glass.

He pulled his phone out. Tapped. You didn’t hear the call ring—probably encrypted, burner-to-burner. Probably to someone way too important to be talking about two stolen folders and a potential mole crouched three feet away.

Still, his voice was ice when he finally spoke:

“They’re gone. Both of them. Yes. Both. Folders. No. Nobody else’s been in here.”

He huffed as he slammed the device down on the desk and left without another word. Closing the door behind him. 

You didn’t move for a full thirty seconds.

Just breathed.

Slow and shallow, trying not to make even your lungs betray you. Your heart was doing a drum solo in your chest, and the folders clutched to you suddenly felt like live explosives. Your knees were screaming. Your brain was screaming.

But Jo was gone.

And you were still here.

When you finally uncurled yourself and opened the closet door like it might squeak out a betrayal, the coast was still clear. The office was eerily quiet, save for the dull hum of whatever sinister programs Jo had left running on his screen.

You grabbed his phone too, along with the USBs. Leaving that behind, what a dummy. 

You crept out like a cat burglar in a heist movie, glancing around one more time before heading to the door.

No one.

No shadows.

You slid out and shut the door behind you, just as quietly as you came.

And then booked it.

—

Muscle memory had you headed there before you could even second-guess the idea. Ninth floor, west wing, room 920. You’d memorized it months ago without even meaning to—like the curve of his signature, or the way his voice dipped when he was serious. The folders were still tucked under your shirt like contraband, stabbing awkwardly against your ribs as you power-walked. You probably looked suspicious. Not that anyone was around to clock it—yet. But paranoia was creeping in like a slow leak. Any second now, you were sure alarms would start blaring.

You rounded the corner, heart racing. Riki’s door stood at the end of the hallway, clean and unassuming. You didn’t knock. Just turned the handle and slipped inside like a shadow.

He wasn’t at his desk.

He was standing at the window, back to you, hands in his pockets like some tortured antihero. Of course. Of course he was being dramatic today.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he said, without turning around.

You rolled your eyes and let the door click shut behind you. “This is where my man is, this is where I’m due. Thank you very much.”

He turned slowly, his expression unreadable until his eyes landed on your shirt—and what was very obviously not a very lumpy new bra.

“You didn’t,” he said flatly.

You didn’t say anything. Just reached under your shirt, pulled the folders and phone out like a magician producing a rabbit, and dropped them onto his desk with a soft thump.

Riki stared at them.

Then at you. “...You’re insane.”

“I love you.”

He pressed his fingers to his eyes, already visibly aging five years. “I love you too. But I told you not to engage.”

“Yeah, well.” You walked to his side of the desk as he sat. “I’m starting to think you only say that when you don’t wanna deal with the fallout.” You lifted yourself to sit atop his desk, folding your legs.

He didn’t argue because a part of him knew better. But he was going to ask questions.

“Before I open these, Oracle.” He smirked as he leaned back in his chair, rubbing your bare calves. “You are going to tell me how you got these.”

You tilted your head, half-smirking, half-daring him to press. “Before I tell you,” you said, voice sweet as poison, “you’re going to tell me who Nishi is.”

He paused, the playful squeeze he gave your leg faltering for just a second. Just enough for you to catch. Just enough to confirm that the name meant something. Something serious.

“That’s not how this works,” he said slowly, like he was weighing each word. “You first.”

You leaned back on your palms, eyes dragging lazily across the office like you were bored—like you weren’t high off adrenaline and one bad decision away from spiraling. “Door was unlocked. Papers were out. Your little friend Jo doesn’t have the cleanest filing system.”

“You broke into his office,” he said, amused but exasperated, like a teacher trying not to laugh while writing you up. “You hid in his closet.”

“And you told me not to engage, which is very different from telling me not to investigate,” you quipped. “And how do you even know I did that?”

His hands were warm against your skin again, this time steady. Grounding. He sighed, and there was something tired in it. Like this day had finally worn him down. “First off, you came in here winded. Which means you were running. Something you never do.” He nodded affirmatively, like he had seen this scenario a million times before. “Then you have extra padding in your bra like you don’t have enough going on there alrea—” 

You squinted at him, offended but mostly appalled. “Excuse me?”

Riki had the audacity to grin, all smug and unbothered, like he wasn’t skating on the thinnest ice imaginable. “What?” he said, lifting his hands in fake innocence. “I notice things. You weren’t exactly subtle and I’ve seen them enough to know what they do and don’t look like. The folders are poking out like a second set of ribs.”

You smacked his arm. “You are insufferable.”

“Observant,” he corrected, laughing under his breath. “And I know you. You only get this chaotic when you’re pissed or nosy. Or both.”

You rolled your eyes and slipped off his desk, pacing a few steps to blow off steam. “Well, congrats. You know me. You want a medal or a map to Jo’s shitty closet?”

“I want you to tell me why you went looking for him,” he said, the smile in his voice gone now. “What made you dig?”

You paused, fiddling with the edge of a stray paper on his desk, not looking at him. “I was just making my way down the list.” You shrug with a slight pout. “I had already spoken with Yuna and Sohee. Conveniently they were both in the same room. Then I saw you enroute to Jo, knocked on his office. Nobody home. So I took it upon myself to find what he wasn’t there to tell me.” You sighed with a firm nod. “Who’s Nishi? Is it short for Nishimura? Or short for Nis—” You paused as something in your brain had clicked, the lights weren’t dim anymore. “The Nishiyama syndicate that you were speaking of.” Humming in understanding finally as you leaned against the desk. “Is that it?”

Riki’s then blank expression shifted to a smile, not devilish. But kind, almost…proud despite the weird situation. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Somehow you felt small beneath his gaze, so your eyes shifted to the files and phone. “Are you gonna open the files?”

The raven-haired man sighed, leaning back into his chair. He was entirely too cavalier for your liking but you kept your lips glued. This was his world, not yours. At least not yet. “No.” He shook his head gently. “You’re gonna read them and tell me what you find.”

You blinked. “Okay,”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Riki leaned up and handed you a new notepad and pen. “Don’t write on his stuff. I’m sure he knows they’re missing.”

“He does,” you took the items with both hands. “Is he going to hurt me if—”

“Over my dead fucking body.”

Your breath caught—not because you didn’t believe him, but because of how fast he said it. Like it wasn’t a question. Like the very thought of Jo trying anything had flipped a switch in Riki’s brain that only lived between rage and devotion.

You stared at him. “That’s dramatic.”

“I mean it,” he said, and this time there was no smugness, no teasing. Just that low, steady tone that made your spine straighten and your chest feel way too small. “He touches you, he dies.”

Laughing him off, you waved your hand. “Again, dramatic.”

“There’s nothing dramatic about it. I have no problem putting anybody six feet under if it’s about you. I’m telling you now, I will kill him. Myself, with my bare hands.” He nods calmly. You nodded, lips pursed as this weird feeling of not believing him but absolutely believing him came over you. Now you aren’t stupid, there’s very few people in this life that have clean hands but since you never saw that side of Riki—it was hard to fully compute that. You were used to the version of him that bit you when he just found you cute. The one that whenever he ate french fries, he would put them in his mouth and act like he was a walrus. The part of him that whined whenever his food touched.

The Riki that kissed you like it was his first and last, everytime. When he made love to you it was passionate, like he cared. Savoring every part of your body and ravishing it like a starved man. And even though you’ve been together for as long as you have, he still makes you feel like you’re in high school. Both his and your inner child’s connect and that’s what makes every part of being with him so worth it. Hearing him talk about putting someone in the dirt for hurting you didn’t scare you. At all, if anything a depraved part of you loved that he was so ready and willing to take care of you. But because he had kept you so far from this life—to the point where you never saw him right when he came home from work. You only ever saw him after a shower when he got back. The house was big enough for him to avoid you and he didn’t want you to even see him in any other way aside from put-together or casual. He simply wants to keep your perception of him one way. Now he’s at the point where he doesn’t need to get his hands dirty, but he’s not above it. He knows he’s not but he doesn’t want you to know that. Maybe because you’re pure, the only clean thing in this world and he wants to honor that sanctity.

Thus you nod with a tight-lipped smile. “Aye-aye captain,”

Riki nodded curtly, “Thank you, now sit.”

“Can I take this home with me—oh wait, no, the rule.” I sighed as I sat down on his couch. 

He laughed, “Right, good, good. But…” He breezed past his desk to now sit beside you. “Why didn’t you tell me you loved me?” He leaned back against the back of the couch, crossing his arms as he peered at you with patient eyes. 

You furrowed your brows, snorting at his ridiculousness. “I tell you that multiple times an hour, Riki. I just said it when I came in. What are you talking about?”

“Babe—sorry—” He covers his mouth, trying to muffle a smile at the minor slip-up. 

You point at him, “Ah-ha! You broke your own rule, genius.” Laughing as you twirl the pen between your fingers.

Riki groaned dramatically, tipping his head back against the couch cushion like the weight of his love-induced hypocrisy had just crushed him. “God, I’m so weak,” he mumbled into the ceiling.

You giggled, nudging his leg with your knee. “You made a rule you couldn’t keep. Who does that?”

“A man in love,” he sighed, hand flopping over his heart. “A fool. A slave to your eyes and...whatever scented oil you’re wearing today. Beautiful gourmand.”

You rolled your eyes so hard you nearly saw your past mistakes. “You suck so bad.”

He turned to look at you again, his playful expression softening slightly. “You didn’t say it earlier. In the texts. Well you did, but I just had to pull it out of you. Which is unusual because usually it happens easily. Like a nice, well-lubricated machine.”

You paused, the smile still on your lips but tinged now with something quieter. “I was annoyed.”

“I figured,” he said.

“And don’t use ‘well-lubricated’ like that ever again.” You laughed as you adjusted your position, kicking off your shoes just because you could. Placing your legs on his lap as he instinctively went to massaging your aching feet. 

Riki laughed beneath his breath, “Mmm, how else should I use it then…?” He trails his hand up your calf.

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence,” you said, pointing the pen at him like it doubled as a taser. “I’m in work mode now. No nasty metaphors.”

Riki smirked, thumb dragging slow circles into your ankle like he was trying to hypnotize you. “You sure? I’ve got a whole glossary. Synonyms. Imagery. PowerPoint, even.”

“PowerPoint?” You quirked a brow. “Wow. And here I thought this organization was low-tech.”

“We save the advanced tech for seduction,” he deadpanned.

You threw your head back in a laugh, letting your legs go slack against him. “You are so lucky you’re cute.”

“I know.” He smiled proudly, then leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your knee. “But seriously...I knew something was bothering you. I felt it.”

You nodded, brushing a bit of lint from your lap like it was your own way of smoothing down your thoughts. “I didn’t like the way Yuna talked about you. Like she knew you. Knows you. I know it’s stupid—”

“It’s not,” he cut in gently. “Whatever it is, it’s not.”

You looked at him. “I didn’t want to make it a thing while you’re working, but...she got under my skin.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing really,” You shook your head as confusion plagued your expression. “Like she was just throwing jabs at our marriage. Like—”

“Do you want her gone?”

“Wait–damn! Can I at least tell you what happened?” You put your hands out in panic.

Riki blinked, caught between his gut reaction and your clearly not-yet-finished train of thought. “Right. Sorry.” He held up his hands, leaning back slightly. “Continue. Full dramatic reenactment, if you will.”

You gave him a flat look. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here I am. Devoted. Foot-rubbing. Ready to commit crimes in your honor.”

You fought back a smile, exhaling sharply before continuing. “She just said some things. Made it sound like she knew you in a way I didn’t. Nothing direct, but it was all…in the way she said it. Like she was watching me, waiting to see if I’d flinch.”

Riki’s jaw ticked just slightly, and his hand stilled again on your leg. “What did she say exactly?”

“She joked about you being soft for me. About how it must be wild seeing you like that. And then she muttered something under her breath—‘definitely rubbing’—after I said you were rubbing off on me.” You rolled your eyes. “While it was funny,” you smiled as you reflected on the moment. “It was just the tone she took, it was petty.”

His voice had that eerie calm again—the kind that made you picture storms on the horizon. “And do you want her gone?”

You hesitated. “I don’t want to make you cut people loose just because they annoy me.”

“Not just anyone,” he said slowly. “Her. You disrespect my wife, you disrespect me. End of discussion.”

You sighed. “I just didn’t like feeling like I was being tested. Like I had to prove I was worthy to be here. That I deserved you.”

“No. You don’t need to prove shit to anyone. She works for you, baby. Not the other way around.” He scoffs in irritation, not at you. Just at the situation.

“You think she wants you or something?” 

Riki rolls his eyes, “Please,” he waves off.

“No, I’m being serious.” 

He furrowed his brows, “That has nothing to do with me, I chose you. I love you. Yuna is just…Yuna.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, folding your arms across your chest as your legs stayed propped on his lap. “That is the vaguest, most non-answer answer I’ve ever heard.”

Riki groaned, tilting his head back like the ceiling was somehow responsible for your suspicion. “Baby, come on. You want me to what—spell out that she probably has some weird little crush from back in the day? Okay. Maybe. Possibly. Who wouldn’t? But that doesn’t matter. I don’t want her.”

You blinked, lips parting just slightly. “Weird little crush from back in the day?”

He froze. Froze frozen. Like someone had just hit pause on his entire soul.

Then slowly—painfully slowly—he sat up straighter and scratched the back of his neck like a man about to give a deposition. “...I mean, like…a crush she invented in her head. You know how people do. Delulu culture. She’s a millennial. Or—whatever she is.”

You gave him the most unimpressed stare humanly possible. One that could suck the air out of a room if you held it long enough.

“You’ve been avoiding answering straight for two full minutes,” you said, your voice sharp but cool. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He let out a deep sigh, eyes flicking briefly to your legs across his lap—like grounding himself with you physically would make the words come easier.

“Nothing happened,” he finally said, slow and careful, like laying down a live wire. “She flirted. Years ago. Once. I didn’t flirt back. I shut it down. It didn’t become a thing because I didn’t let it become a thing. Plus by that point, I had just started seeing you.”

You stared, not blinking, not speaking. Just letting the silence stretch until it felt like your heartbeat was echoing off the floors.

“And now?” you asked at last, voice like velvet over a blade.

His gaze lifted to meet yours, firm and unwavering. “Now she’s someone on payroll who will never get that close again. You have my name, my ring, everything. And if I could give you more of me, I would. She’s noise. Vapor.”

The words settled in your chest like something warm and weighted. The kind of thing that wasn’t just sweet, but true. You didn’t nod. You didn’t smile. You just breathed—and it came easier after that.

“Good,” you murmured.

“Good,” he echoed, reaching up to squeeze your ankle gently.

Riki had never given you any sort of reason to doubt his loyalty to you. But something about Yuna just made you feel some sort of insecure. And that’s never a good feeling. “Okay, so back to work on these thingies.” You sighed as you grabbed all of your things, the files and notepad. 

—

You settled deeper into the couch, the file balanced on your knees, pen in hand. Riki stayed quiet beside you, hands behind his head like he wasn’t five seconds away from snatching the folder and reading it himself. But this was your job now. He gave it to you. He trusted you. And trust in this world was rarer than sleep.

The first folder you opened was the one labeled:

“INCIDENT REPORT — LEAK”

Your eyes scanned the top page. Neat, efficient language. Jo’s writing was all business. But beneath that business tone… was tension. A lot of it.

Summary: On 05/23, it was confirmed that classified movement data regarding the Nishiyama holdings in the Shibuya district was compromised and intercepted by an unknown third party. The breach occurred between the hours of 03:00 and 05:00 JST.

Method of Leak: Evidence points to an internal device tap. Most likely wireless, planted within the logistics room (3rd floor).

Potential Suspect(s):

T. Nakamoto (denied access two weeks prior but showed up in building security logs 24 hours before the breach)

Sohee Lee (recent behavioral inconsistencies; requires further monitoring)

UNCONFIRMED: External syndicate involvement possible (see cross-file: “NISHI — CONFIDENTIAL”)

You sucked in a breath. “Sohee?” you said aloud, almost in disbelief.

Riki’s voice was low. “Keep going.”

You flipped to the second page—grainy black-and-white images from security footage. A figure moving at 4:12 AM through a hallway near the logistics room. Hood up. Face obscured. But the time stamp matched Jo’s report exactly.

You shook your head. “This is bad. Whoever this is knew where to go. No camera catch, no chatter, just straight infiltration. Like a ghost.”

Riki didn’t speak—his jaw was tight. He already knew this. He’d probably seen the footage himself.

You flipped to the next folder:

“NISHI — CONFIDENTIAL”

Your stomach clenched.

This one wasn’t a report. It was…a dossier.

A breakdown of an entire group.

The Nishiyama Syndicate. Or, as Riki had called them before—“Nishi.” A former rival organization that went dark years ago.

Overview: The Nishiyama Syndicate—presumed inactive by 2017—has begun resurfacing under new leadership. Not confirmed, but rumored to be operating under a splinter faction using legitimate business fronts. Possible laundering through offshore holdings (Monaco, Belize, Singapore).

Recent Activity:

Acquisition of real estate adjacent to Nishimura holdings.

Shadow-bidding on construction contracts connected to your family’s public-facing properties.

Unusual surveillance patterns noted around Nishimura residences.

Notable Names:

A. Nishiyama (deceased, patriarch)

M. Nishiyama (???) — identity redacted

“Subject N” — possible mole or double agent; suspected to have contact with active Nishimura staff. (PRIORITY)

You looked up at Riki. “This reads like they’re trying to move in. Slowly. Quietly.”

He nodded, lips pressed tight. “I think the breach might’ve come from a mole inside the building. Someone feeding info.”

Your pulse spiked. “Who do you think it is?”

He looked at you carefully. “I haven’t ruled anyone out. Neither has Jo. But everyone’s guilty until proven innocent.”

“It’s inno—”

He held his hand up, “I know what it is.”

You snorted as you looked back down at the file but then suddenly looked back to him. “Hey, did Jo call you at all today on one of the burners?”

He frowned in thought. “No, why?”

Your eyes widened in slight fear, feeling adrenaline pump through your veins. “His phone is on your desk.” Pointing to it with urgency. “He called someone earlier, letting them know the files were missing.”

You felt like the floor shifted under you.

Riki stood up and grabbed the phone, unlocking it as he sifted through it. “Go. Continue, let me do this.”

Then you flipped one last page in the NISHI folder—and your heart stopped.

REDACTED TARGET LIST [photo attached]

R. Nishimura (active)

“Okaasan” (active, unnamed spouse)

Status: Tracking active; no confirmed contact attempts. Maintain passive surveillance.

There was a picture.

Of you.

A candid photo. Leaving your favorite coffee shop. Hair in a bun. Not even looking at the camera.

They knew who you were.

They were watching.

“Oh my fucking…” You whispered as your hands started to shake. 

Riki didn’t look up—yet. He was still going through the burner phone, locked in, muttering something under his breath. But the second your voice cracked, just the edge of that whisper, he froze. Your hands were trembling around the paper, your breath shallow as if the photo alone had stolen the oxygen from your lungs. “They’re watching me, Riki,” you said quietly. “They know. They know who I am.”

That’s when he looked up.

His gaze flicked to your face first—then to the folder in your lap. You didn’t even have to show him. He crossed the room in three strides, dropped the phone without care, and snatched the folder from your lap with steady hands but a murderous edge in his jaw.

He saw it. The image. The note. The label: “Okaasan – Active, unnamed spouse.”

Your face. Your fucking face. On a watch list.

Riki’s breathing changed.

Not heavy. Not loud.

But measured. Controlled. The kind of breathing someone does right before they explode.

“No contact attempts,” he read aloud, barely above a whisper. “Passive surveillance. Maintain.” His jaw flexed once. Twice. “That means they’ve been watching. But not enough to tip me off. Or you.” You still couldn’t speak. Your mind was spiraling, thinking back—every time you thought someone was staring at you too long in the coffee shop. Every car that took a little too long to pull away. The time your key fob didn’t register on the first try and you swore you saw someone standing at the edge of the parking lot.

You knew. Felt it more than anything.

Riki stepped back, slowly. “You’re done,” he said, coldly.

You blinked. “What?”

“You’re done with this.” He gestured to the papers—everything. “I don’t want you involved anymore.”

“No—Riki—”

“I said you’re done.”

His voice wasn’t raised, but it was final.

You stood, breath catching again—not out of fear this time, but out of frustration. “You can’t just—”

“I can, and I will.” He looked at you, eyes flashing with something deeper than anger. “They put you on a list. A list with my name. They put a target on your back for being married to me.”

“You said you’d pull me out if I couldn’t handle it. I can and—”

“No. You said that,” he bit out. “Thank you so much for your interpretation of how you think this works. But I’m telling you now, sweetheart. You’re finished.”

You stared at him, chest rising and falling rapidly. “So what, you’re just gonna hide me away like a secret? Lock me in the house?”

“If I have to,” he said without hesitation. “I’d rather you hate me than end up in a morgue. You think I give a fuck about being the bad guy in your story if it keeps you alive?”

And for the first time, you realized—he wasn’t just angry.

He was scared.

Riki Nishimura, the man who ran empires with a flick of his fingers, the one who made people disappear without batting an eye—was looking at you like he had already lost you. Like he was trying to stop the bleeding before the wound even opened.

And you didn’t know whether to fight him or fall apart.

—

Within the next hour, Riki sent you home. 

No yelling. No begging. No stomping down the hallway with your shoes in hand like you wanted to. Just a tight-lipped goodbye, a long look that said please don’t fight me on this, and the subtle pressure of his hand on the small of your back as he walked you to the elevator. Kissing your cheeks and temple as he guided you.

“I’ll be home later, I love you.” he said, eyes fixed on the elevator door as it closed, locking you in. Locking you out.

You didn’t say anything. You just nodded, chewing the inside of your cheek like it’d keep your heart from leaping up and making a scene.

And now here you are.

In the house. Your house. His too. That same massive, almost-too-silent house where the floors were spotless, the air always smelled faintly of clean linen and sandalwood, and the fridge was somehow always stocked but never truly full. You hadn’t even changed clothes. You hadn’t moved much. Just sat on the edge of the bed for a while, fingers interlaced, something so mundane like Riki’s silver watch still on the nightstand like it might grow teeth.

Because it could’ve been anyone.

Anyone watching you. Anyone taking that photo.

You didn’t even realize you’d started crying until you saw the wet spot on your blouse. And then more tears followed—not because you were scared. But because he had known. About the business. The threats. The danger.

And he kept you out of it. You were so proud. Marching into lounges. Reading body language. Toying with people like you were ten steps ahead. But the whole time, you were in a different game.

A different arena.

You weren’t playing chess. You were the queen piece. And someone had started planning your checkmate.

You wiped your face and reached for your phone.

Nothing from Riki yet. Of course. He needed time. To clean up. To cover tracks. To burn things down.

You opened your texts anyway. Clicked on the chat.

thorn in my side: i’m home

i love you, baby

Message delivered. No reply yet.

You stared at the phone until the screen went dark.

And for the first time in a long time, the silence in your house didn’t feel safe. It felt like someone else might be listening too.

—

Riki came home and the house was equally as silent. 

He’d come home to a quiet home almost everyday, nothing new. Most times you were in the bath, in the living room buried in a book, or on a good day—you’d already be in bed. And by this time, he’d shower before he came to greet you but the weird thing about being with someone for so long—you feel them everywhere. Your warmth, your mood, he feels it all. 

But this time he felt nothing. 

Immediately his mood dampened, the intuition that he had relied on so heavily over the last twenty-four years of his life already letting him know something was amiss. “Baby?” He called out as he slipped his shoes off. 

No response. 

He smacked his teeth, “My goodness, I shouldn’t have gotten her those fucking headphones.” He placed his jacket on the coat rack and skimmed the area. Your keys were by the door, as usual. The sweater you wore today, okay fine. Your Mary Janes—your favorite shoes that he always tripped over and threatened to throw away. Huh.

Again, that strange nagging feeling in Riki just never went away. He padded over to the kitchen, seeing dinner spread out on the table. Wrapped up and ready for yours and Riki’s consumption, there was a serving taken out of it which meant you ate something. Good.

But you weren’t in the kitchen. And you weren’t in the living room.

The staff not being around makes sense, he sent them home for the day. Clara wanted to spend time with her son so who was he to tell her no? 

And now, the fucking office that he had built with his own hands—empty.

This house was huge, humongous—but there would’ve been some way you heard him already.

He called your name firmly. Riki never says your name, that’s like the rule. Still, no response. He calls your phone because knowing you—it’s never too far. Straight to voicemail. 

“What the fuck.” Riki Nishimura doesn’t panic—but something cold and venomous slithered up his spine as he stood in the middle of that pristine kitchen as he now made his way back there, fists clenched, jaw ticking.

And then.

Then he saw the note.

Sitting prettily on the marble counter—in a little nook. Surprised he had missed it before. 

Simple. Clean. In all capital letters.

YOU WANTED HER OUT. SO WE TOOK HER OUT.

And on the back of the note was a photo of you. Gagged, tearful eyes, messy hair, scratched face. You had put up a fight that was for sure, it wouldn’t be you if you didn’t. 

The marble counter shattered first.

He slammed his fists down, hard enough to crack the stone. The note crumpled beneath him as he shouted, loud and hoarse, like it had been ripped from somewhere deep in his chest.

“FUCK!”

Everything after that was instinct. A storm. A full-blown implosion. He threw the nearest chair across the room. It smashed into the wall with a satisfying crack, splintering on impact. Plates followed next, flying off the table with a feral sweep of his arm. Food hit the cabinets, the fridge, the floor. A glass shattered under his heel. He didn’t even flinch.

“I told her to go home!” he roared. “I sent her home!”

His eyes were wild. Drenched in something between fear and fury. The kind of look no one ever saw and lived to describe.

He yanked open drawers. Punched the fridge. Tore the cabinet door clean off the hinge and hurled it across the room. A vase hit the floor and shattered—porcelain flowers slicing across the floor like confetti made of rage.

And then—his voice broke.

“Fuck—fuck, fuck—”

He grabbed the sink with both hands, chest heaving, eyes squeezing shut like maybe, if he tried hard enough, this would all vanish. That the note would disappear. That you’d walk out from your office and ask what the hell happened to the dining room. But all he heard was silence. All he felt was the absence of you. The kind of stillness that only existed in grief. He sank to the floor—only for a second—hands gripping his hair. And then the door creaked open.

Clara opened the door with glee, bags from the nearest arts and crafts store. “Riki—?”

She froze in place.

The kitchen looked like a warzone. Dinner ruined. Furniture destroyed. Her boss—on the floor, shaking, breathing like a wild animal trying to hold in a scream.

She didn’t ask what happened. She didn’t have to.

Because then she saw the note. 

The note.

Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my goodness.”

Riki slowly stood. There was a line of blood down his knuckles—he hadn’t even noticed. His breathing was low now. Tighter. Like someone was holding his lungs closed.

He didn’t look at her as he spoke.

“Tell everyone to get on the line. Now. I want every runner, every affiliate, every fucking rat with ears in this city looking.”

Clara nodded, frozen.

“If she’s not found by midnight—” He turned to her. Eyes glassy. Voice cold. As he stepped beside her, venom in his eyes as he looked down at her with nothing but truth in his eyes.

“—Everybody’s fucking dying, Clara. You included.”

Clara didn’t say a word. Just nodded, pale as a ghost, and scrambled to grab her phone. Riki didn’t even watch her leave. He turned on his heel and stormed toward his office, blood trailing faintly from his knuckles and dotting the floor like red ink.

He slammed the office door behind him so hard the glass panel trembled.

Without hesitation, he slammed the heel of his palm down on the black switch embedded into the side of his desk—an unmarked button that immediately turned the room red. Not metaphorically. The lights literally shifted into emergency mode, casting the entire office in a crimson hue. The kind of red that let every handler in his operation know: This is DEFCON 1. Life or death. Burn everything if you have to.His jaw clenched so tight you could hear the creak in his teeth. Then he yanked open the bottom drawer, reaching for the sleek matte tablet hidden beneath a stack of decoy files. With a swipe and a facial scan, he opened a security interface. His fingers flew across the screen.

“Tracker,” he muttered under his breath. “C’mon, c’mon…” He clicked into a discreet sub-menu, one labeled ‘PRIVATE ACCESS – VELOMY.’ The screen lit up, pulling a location from a hidden signal.

Riki’s chest stopped moving for a full beat. The blinking dot that represented you was there—active. 

“You’re still wearing the ring,” he whispered to himself. A dark smirk twisted his lips, but it didn’t touch his eyes. “You stubborn little thing…”

That ring. The one he gave you at the altar when he promised to you, his family, and yours that he would love you during your highs and lows. The ring that tethered you to him forever. 

He put a chip in it. Just to be straightforward.

Riki’s paranoia ran so deep that it became difficult for him not to. And funnily enough, he remembers he didn’t tell you that it was in there until your honeymoon. 

You both were lounging on your private beach in front of the newly bought property in the Maldives. Sun setting, breeze flowing through your hair as you both laid on your stomachs. Simply gut-laughing at any and everything, everything was funny at this moment. You’re newlyweds.Riki smiles as he plays with the ends of your hair, twirling the end of a braid. “You know,” he glances down at your left hand. “I’ll be able to find you anywhere now.” His smile settles into something soft, something more than just teasing. “What do you mean?” You tilt your head in confusion. The sun hitting your face at the perfect angle. 

He brought your hand to his lips, kissing the ring. “I put a little locator in your ring.” Riki’s heart raced, using your conjoined hands to cover his mouth as he nervously awaited your reaction. “See? You can’t even tell.” You brought your hand back to inspect the enormous rock and he’s right. You really can’t tell. And you weren’t going to ask why he put it there because you knew why. Again, you knew who you married. Plus you didn’t even have the energy to be mad at him right now. You couldn’t be mad after you just swore to forever with your best friend.

“Okay, but I still need privacy, Riki. I don’t just want to be a—”

He shook his head, “No, no, no. It’s not even activated. I just…in the event that something would happen to you—hopefully that’s never—but it gives me peace of mind that I can always find you, baby.” Riki smiled gently as he carefully caressed your cheek. “Only I can activate it. It just tells me where you’re positioned but it only works if you…” His chest caves slightly as his words tremble at the thought.

“If what?” You placed your hand on his shoulder, holding yourself up on your other arm.

“It only works if you have a pulse.”

“What if I take it off?”

Riki laughs.“You wouldn’t though, and I know you wouldn’t. There’s nothing you do that warrants taking it off.” He shrugs as he lays on his back and pulls you on top of him swiftly. 

You yelp at his almost reflexive motion, putting your hands on his chest to stabilize yourself. “You’re right. But it’s not like someone’s gonna want to snatch me up at the grocery store or something.”

Riki had laughed with you then.

Really laughed—head tilted back, his arms wrapping tight around your waist as if just the idea of losing you was so ridiculous, so farfetched it barely warranted a real thought.

But now?

Now that blinking dot on his screen was the only thing keeping him from collapsing into the marble floor of his office.

His hand hovered over the location map, the tracker still active. Still moving.

You were alive.

That was the only thing keeping the wrath at bay—barely. Because while the dot pulsed, it wasn’t close. It was on the far edge of the city, in one of the zones they rarely used. Industrial. Warehouses. A part of town they had all but erased from operations.

Which meant someone wanted you hidden. Not hurt. Not yet.

Still…the bloodlust was roaring now. In all of his life, he had never felt such an insatiable, primal urge to kill like he did now. It was truly like the spirit of the devil ran through his veins and possessed him. That thirst wasn’t going to be quenched until you were back in his arms. Riki stood from his desk, shoving his chair so hard it crashed against the wall. He pressed the emergency button again—just in case. Red lights flashed once in the corner of the ceiling. His hands moved on autopilot, grabbing his bulletproof vest to put on over his compression shirt, his sidearm, his second piece, and the long black blade he hadn’t used in years. The blade that had started it all. The blade they said made him infamous. The one he swore he’d never need again.

He strapped it to his back. Along with one of the embossed Kaminari guns.

Grabbed the note again from the kitchen and stuffed it in his pocket—not because he needed it, but because he wanted to burn it on whoever sent it. By now, Clara had rallied his top men. Jake was on standby, speaking through the comms with a strained voice—he had been yelling at people relentlessly within the last twenty minutes.

Riki didn’t even look at the others in the room as he walked toward the front entrance, eyes locked on the car waiting just outside.

He paused only once.

To grab a bottle of your favorite perfume.

He sprayed it twice across his collarbone, once across his wrist. Something grounding. Something to carry you with him while he burned everything else down.

As soon as he stepped outside, he made contact with the two security guards meant to get you back here. They stood at the base of the steps—nervous, unsure if they should speak first. Their eyes flicked from the tension in Riki’s jaw to the fine mist of blood still drying across his knuckles.

He didn’t blink as he approached them. “You were supposed to bring her home and ensure she was safe. I gave explicit instructions.” His voice was eerily calm, but it buzzed like a live wire underneath.

“We—we did, sir,” one of them stammered. “She went inside. We locked the door right behind her—”

“I don’t give a fuck what you did!” Riki stepped forward, face to face with the buff man that cowered in the face of his lean figure. “My wife is not in my fucking bedroom because you failed to do your job.” He leaned in now, nose hardly touching his—his cologne and your perfume clashing between their senses.

The other guard interjected, “Sir—”

Before he could utter another word, Riki placed the barrel to his forehead. Squeezing the trigger and letting a metal bullet ripple right through his brain. Watching his body fall to the ground with a thud.

The echo of the gunshot rang out like a death bell across the courtyard. Riki didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. His jaw tightened as he watched the second guard freeze, paralyzed by fear and disbelief. A splatter of red stained the granite steps, and he finally looked down—then calmly wiped the barrel of the gun with the hem of his shirt. No one moved. Not even the wind dared.

“Let this be the part where you realize,” he said slowly, eyes locked on the remaining guard, “that I don’t make idle threats. I don’t give second chances. And I don’t tolerate incompetence.” The man nodded furiously, hands trembling at his sides.

“Good. Now get your shit together and get in the fucking car. If she loses a single hair on her head, I’m putting a bullet in your mouth. Understand me?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

Riki exhaled sharply through his nose, holstering his weapon. His knuckles were cracked and bleeding again from how tightly he’d gripped it. It didn’t matter. He turned back toward the house and grabbed your scent once more—letting it wrap around him like armor. The tension in his shoulders didn’t loosen; it hardened. Sharpened. Weaponized.

He climbed into the car.

Clara’s voice came through the comms again: “Riki. We’ve found the tunnel entrance. Sealed off, looks like it hasn’t been touched in years. But the tracker’s pinging beneath it.”

His fingers tapped against his thigh—once, twice—before he answered. “Good. Blow it open.”

“Already on it.”

Riki leaned his head back, eyes half-lidded. “And tell someone—I don’t care who it is—to get rid of what’s-his-name from in front of our door. I don’t want her seeing that when she gets back.”

—

The floor was frigid as ever. To which you didn’t understand, it was springtime. But Earth’s crust wasn’t something you took time to worry about. The left side of your head was throbbing and you were barefoot. Only your white nail polish is visible in this dark room. Your arms were bound to some wooden chair with…you jostled in the chair as best you could. Zip ties. Of course they were zip ties. Your feet too but your mouth wasn’t covered, big mistake on their end. 

You smelt of debris, cinders, and a bit of blood. But none of that mattered, you had to get the fuck out of here despite you not being able to see shit. Before you could concoct some sort of plan, the lights were turned on. Stinging your eyes as your pupils had to adjust to the new sensation. 

“Oh, babygirl. Are you okay? I know it’s been a long day.”

That voice. Sweet. Familiar. The kind that once called you baby while handing you fresh towels. The one that scolded Riki for forgetting to eat. The one you trusted.

Your blood ran like ice. 

“Clara?!”

It didn’t compute at first. Your brain tried to reroute it, convince you that maybe she’d been kidnapped too. Maybe she was checking on you. But then you saw her. Heels clicking across the concrete. Calm. Clean. Untouched.

Her hair was neatly pinned up, her blouse spotless, not a wrinkle in sight. She looked like she just came from brunch—not your kidnapping.

You blinked. “Clara?” you croaked. “What the hell—”

“Shhh.” She crouched down in front of you, cupping your chin like a parent checking a child for fever. “You poor thing. That gash on the head looks awful.”

You were too stunned to move but you quickly snapped out of it and jerked your head out of her grasp. “The fuck is this?”

The older lady stood up straight, towering over your torn figure. “This is retribution,” she gestured around the shithole bunker you were in. You stared up at her, heart pounding so loud it nearly drowned out her words. “Retribution?” you echoed, like your brain was lagging ten seconds behind. “Clara, are you out of your fucking mind?”

She chuckled softly. Not like a villain. Like a teacher. Like a mother. Like someone who believed she had the moral high ground. “Don’t worry, your knight in shining armor is on his way here. Right to where you’re sitting. I can’t wait to inform him of his wonderful test results.”

Clara’s voice lilted like she was presenting a prize at a company banquet—like this wasn’t some underground dungeon and you weren’t zip-tied like a prop in a cautionary tale.

You scoffed, full of disbelief and blood in your mouth. “You’re sick.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said with mock sympathy, “you’re not the first girl who thought she was special.”

She circled you slowly now, her heels echoing through the cold, damp space.

“You think I didn’t know about the tracker in your ring? You think I didn’t let him find you? This is about control, baby. Not chaos. I want him to come. I need him to.”

You snickered, “Yeah well, I like it when he does.” If nothing else, you were great at pissing people off.

Clara paused mid-step.

And then she laughed. But not in amusement—in disbelief. A short, sharp sound, like a knife testing the surface before a deeper plunge.

“You’re really going to joke?” she said, turning toward you slowly. “Tied up like a pig in a butcher’s shop, and you’re making sex jokes. You really think you matter that much?”

You leaned forward as far as the zip ties would allow, blood crusting against your temple and your vision still swimming slightly. But your smirk was solid as a rock.

“He’s killed for less, Clara.”

Her nostrils flared, but she kept her composure. Barely. There was a twitch in her jaw now. You’d landed a hit.

“He loved me first,” she hissed. “He respected me. I built him. I made him.”

“No,” you said calmly, with that lethal kind of clarity only someone truly protected by love can wield. “You trained him. I made him human.”

For a beat, the only sound was the hum of the overhead lights and the crackle of Clara’s rage simmering just below her ribcage.

Then she smiled, too wide.

“Let’s see how human he stays when he finds your body,” she said sweetly, almost like she was offering a bedtime story. But you didn’t flinch. You nodded for her to come closer. Closer. Now your nose was nearing hers. “I fucking dare you to touch me.”

Two of her personal goons come in behind her, standing on either side of the door Riki was due to come in through. Clara’s eyes flickered to the guards like a general surveying her troops—calm, collected, but every muscle ready to snap. She stepped back, smirking like she’d already won some invisible game.

“You’re bold, I’ll give you that,” she said, voice silky but dripping with menace. “But this is my battlefield.”

The two goons cracked their knuckles, eyes cold and hungry, shadows stretching long across the concrete floor. The tension in the room thickened like fog, suffocating and heavy. You kept your breath steady, every nerve screaming fight or flight—but you knew better. The fight wasn’t here. It was coming. And it was coming fast. Outside the heavy steel door, you could almost feel the air shift—the calm before a storm that would shake foundations and burn everything to ash.

Clara glanced toward the door, lips curling.“Tick tock, babe.”

The door exploded inward, steel shrieking on its hinges as Riki stormed through like a bullet—rage crackling in his bones like wildfire.

His eyes locked on you instantly, wide with fury and fear, scanning your face for injury. “Baby—”

“Riki, watch out!” you screamed, voice cracking.

But it was too late.

One goon came at him from the left, the other from behind. Riki ducked, twisted, managed to land a vicious punch to the first one’s jaw—crack—but the second was already swinging with a steel baton, catching him in the ribs with a sickening thud. Riki stumbled, grunting through clenched teeth, his fury barely contained. He went for the blade tucked in his boot—only for a third man, hidden just outside the door, to grab his arm and twist it savagely behind his back. Another punch came flying, this one straight to his jaw. The force knocked him to the floor.

You cried out, struggling against your bindings, your wrists screaming in protest.

Clara watched it all unfold with the elegance of a queen watching gladiators bleed for sport. “Tsk. You boys and your dramatics.”

“Don’t fucking touch him!” you yelled.

They did anyway. Stripping him of every weapon on him—blades, a small pistol, even the tracker cuff on his wrist. Riki didn’t stop fighting, even as they dragged him up and slammed him into the chair beside you. Blood was already trickling down the corner of his mouth, but his glare was wildfire—aimed directly at Clara.

One of the goons zip-tied his hands to the arms of the chair with force, tightening them until his skin burned red.

“I should kill you right now,” Riki growled through grit teeth, eyes trained on Clara like a blade.

She approached slowly, as if savoring his fury. “You’re not in a position to make threats, Riki.”

“You’re out of your fucking mind,” he snapped. “Touch her again and I swear to God—”

Clara only smiled sweetly. “Swear all you want, son. You’re both right where I want you.”

You turned to look at Riki, both of you battered, bound, but alive.

And somewhere beneath the weight of adrenaline and bruises, your fingers brushed the edge of his chair.

Even now—your pinky searching for his.

He found yours. Linked it. Tight. 

You were still here. And so was he.

Clara sent the men out with a wave of her hand as she pulled up a chair to sit down and face the both of you. After a few moments of silence between both of you, she finally spoke. “Wow, fine couple.”

“Bitch, shut the fuck up.” You spat out, rolling your eyes. “What are we doing here? What do you want? More money? We got that. Status, you have it. What more do you want?!”

The older woman smiled at your state. “I want Riki.”

You turned to Riki, who was so far removed from any place you’ve seen him. Your husband was right next to you but the troubled, anxious boy that he’s done such a good job at hiding was making an appearance. But you didn’t know which version of it was.

He bounced his knee up and down with extreme fervor, so fast that you had hardly even seen it moving. Hunched over, the top of his head facing Clara as he shook his head with his eyes glued shut. Lap dampening as what you could only perceive as angry tears misted his eyes and relentless, incessant thoughts bombarded his brain. Riki’s breath was shallow as ever and you could only hear him mutter threats that stemmed from that same fury. More to himself than anyone in the room.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you.” 

“You’re dead.”

“You fucking—”

“I swear on everything I love, I’m putting you in the fucking dirt.”

His voice cracked beneath the gravel, barely audible through the grind of his teeth. Every muscle in his arms strained against the zip ties, his body trembling like he was trying to hold back an earthquake. The air in the room grew thick, like the moment before a downpour—or an execution. You watched him, heart breaking and raging all at once. You’d never seen Riki like this. Not even close. The man beside you wasn’t your husband—not the one who made silly faces behind menus or kissed your shoulder every time he passed you in the kitchen. This was the version buried deep inside. The one he kept scrubbed clean and locked behind five layers of steel. The version built from years of betrayal and bloodshed. The boy no one ever loved right.

And Clara had dragged him out.

“I want Riki,” she repeated calmly, as if she were choosing an entrée off a menu. “Not the man you married. Not this polished little husband of yours. I want the real him. The one I raised. The one who knows how to destroy.”

“You didn’t raise him,” you snapped. “You groomed him.”

Her lips curled into a faint smile. “Tomato, tomahto.”

“Let her go,” Riki muttered, voice low and vibrating with rage. “Let her go, and I’ll give you what you want.”

You turned your head so fast it nearly gave you whiplash. “Riki—”

He still wouldn’t look at either of you. His shoulders trembled, breaths sharp and quick.

“Just let her go,” he said again, louder this time. “This isn’t her world. She doesn’t belong in it.”

Clara leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. “Oh, honey. She entered this world the moment you put that ring on her finger. And now she’s in it until the end.”

Then she leaned forward slightly, that same maternal voice dripping venom: “Tell me, Riki…do you think your daddy would be proud of the little house pet you’ve become?”

That did it.

The room cracked open.

Riki lifted his head—slowly, deliberately—and his eyes found Clara’s with a fire that could level nations.

And for the first time since you met him, you were afraid of your husband.

You interjected quickly, “Seriously. Why are you doing this?”

Riki glanced at you with calmness behind his eyes momentarily, but something about hearing Clara’s voice sent the wrath of the scorned through him. 

“I want my son back.” She hummed as she folded her hands on her lap. 

Your brows furrowed, “He’s not your fucking son.”

Clara’s lips curled into a slow, venomous smile, like she was savoring every drop of poison she was about to pour.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she began, voice dripping with sickly sweetness, “you’ve been living a lie your entire life.”

She stood and paced slowly, every step echoing like a death knell in the cold room. “The woman you thought was your mother? The one who died when you were two? She was nothing but a convenient story.”

Your eyes locked on Riki’s, watching his jaw tighten, his entire body tense like a coiled spring.

Clara stopped just inches from him, voice low and deadly. “I am your mother. Your father’s mistress—the other woman. The one he never wanted you to know about.”

Riki’s fists clenched so tight the veins in his forearms pulsed visibly. “That’s a goddamn lie.”

“Is it?” Clara’s laugh was cold and bitter. “You want the truth? You’re my son, Riki.” She fished in her skirt pocket for a photo of her holding baby Riki as she had just delivered him. 

You swallowed hard, staring at the photo like it was some kind of sick puzzle piece finally clicking into place. The baby in Clara’s arms had the same sharp eyes and yes—the unmistakable mole just below his lips. “I was able to hold you for fifteen minutes before you were taken from me, son.”

His eyes screwed shut, “I’m not your son! I’m your child. I am not your fucking son! Oh my go—baby you better say something before I—” 

“What happened after? Why was Riki taken from you?” You chimed in, in an effort to calm your seething man. 

“Because, I was the mistress. In love with your father, wanted a future with him. But he was married. And…” 

Clara’s voice cracked just a little, the only crack in her otherwise steel mask.

“He made me promise to keep quiet, to stay in the shadows. But when my pregnancy came to light, everything exploded. The wife…she found out.” Her eyes darkened, haunted. “She made sure I lost you—took you away before I could even hold you properly again.” The more you looked at her, the more Riki favored her. The same mole, the same unwavering determination in their eyes. The eyes that can be kind when they want to be. “It was either I disappear from your life completely or I stick around as the help and swear to secrecy. And I couldn’t lose you again, Riki. Do you know how much it hurt me to see you call someone else ‘mama’ for the first two years of your life?” 

“I don’t give a fuck what hurts! It hurts that you had three big ass men jump me. It especially hurt that you had my wife taken from the safety of my fucking house—that I pay for you to live at—and lay a finger on her when you know how much she’s relied on you.” Clara’s eyes glazed over, “But you did too. I was like a mom. You came to me all the time, I was your Claraboo. Remember?” She shrugged as she resigned, tears in her eyes. “When Fumiko died, I thought it was a blessing in disguise.” She stood up. “But then you found her!” She gestured to you with unadulterated disgust. “Saying how great she was, wanting advice on how to dress for dates. So I thought, ‘Okay, this is his first time really taking someone seriously, it’s fleeting. No big deal.’ But then she started coming around. Family dinners, game nights. Then it became her spending the day, then sleepovers, then hearing you two go at it like rabbits when you thought no one could hear you. Fucking disgusting.” She snarled. 

You looked at Riki from the corner of your eye, as did he. Both of you purse your lips to refrain from laughter during this serious moment. Lives are at stake here. “Then, you got on one knee, Riki. At twenty-three, just throwing your best years away for one girl. And I kept thinking, ‘why does my son keep being taken from me? Why, why, fucking why?!” She grabbed one Riki’s pistol from a nearby table and whipped you with it. 

The crack of metal against your cheekbone rang out louder than your gasp. Your head whipped to the side, pain blooming instantly along your jaw, your vision fracturing for a second. But you didn’t scream. You didn’t give her that.

Riki did.

“NO!” His chair thrashed violently beneath him, muscles flexing so hard the wood creaked. “Don’t you fucking touch her! Clara, I will fucking gut you—DO YOU HEAR ME?!” His voice cracked with fury, something animalistic and unhinged bubbling up from his core.

You spat blood, your lip split open now, and still you turned to Clara and hissed, “You’re not a mother. You’re just some bitter bitch who couldn’t let go.” Clara’s hand trembled around the gun as she stepped back, her mask cracking further. “I raised him. I wiped his tears. I was the only one who gave a damn when he cried himself to sleep when his dad would be too hard on him. And you? You think your soft little hands and pretty smile can compare to that?”

Riki had stopped shaking. Now he was still—dangerously still. “You’re right,” he muttered. “You did raise me. Which is exactly why I know how to destroy you.”

Clara froze.

“You forget who you trained, Clara,” he said lowly. “You made me this way. You taught me how to survive. How to outsmart. How to kill.” And then he smiled. Sharp. Unforgiving. Blood drying on his lip.

“So congratulations,” Riki growled. “You just signed your own fucking death certificate. Maybe I really am your son.”

Clara blinked, eyes glassy. The gun trembled again in her hand. And then she raised it. But it wasn’t pointed at you. 

It was aimed at herself. 

You froze. So did Riki.

Clara’s finger hovered over the trigger, her eyes blank. “If I can’t have you,” she said softly, voice almost childlike, “then nobody will. Not her. Not the world. Not even you.”

“No.” Your voice dropped, pleading “Put the gun down.”

Riki sighed, looking down and mumbling to himself. “Damn bitch let me do the shit myself at least.” Rolling his eyes, knowing only you heard him and you refused to laugh at this moment. You clenched your jaw to keep the smile from betraying you, even as the absurdity of Riki’s comment floated in the air like a cracked window letting in too much cold. Clara’s hands trembled now. The gun shook between her fingers, and though it was aimed at her own temple, the tension in the room wrapped around all three of you like barbed wire.

“You think this is funny?” Clara snapped, eyes darting between you and Riki. “I’m baring my soul, and you’re making jokes?”

“Clara,” you said gently, the steel in your voice only thinly veiled by the concern beneath. “This isn’t the answer.”

“I gave up everything,” she whispered. “Everything. For him. For a son who looks at me like I’m a stranger—like I’m some monster.”

“You are some monster,” Riki muttered under his breath again, then louder, “but we don’t need a whole song and dance about it. Just...step away from the trigger, Broadway.”

You shot him a look this time. “Riki, please.”

Clara’s expression fractured—like a mirror that had been held together too long by spite alone. “I could’ve been someone,” she whispered, lip trembling. “I could’ve had a life with your father. With you. But I was the side note. The servant. Claraboo. Never mom.” Her voice broke. “You don’t understand what it’s like to watch someone else raise your baby. To be called help by the child you gave birth to.”

Silence. Then—

“I’m sorry,” Riki said quietly.

Clara froze.

“I’m sorry you went through that,” he continued, gaze steady. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the life you wanted. I’m sorry no one protected you when you needed it most. But this—” he nodded toward the gun, “—isn’t gonna bring any of that back.”

You took a breath. “Please,” you added. “Don’t make us leave here with another scar.”

You heard a low snap from your left where Riki was sitting, your eyes flitted that way. He had made free of the ties. Then, with every ounce of strength in his legs, jutted his calves out to free his legs. He slowly rose to his full height. Clara’s sobs only intensified, shaking as her eyes squeezed shut and pumped out tears. Her breathing shallow as she trembled, hardly able to even line the barrel up with her chin anymore. She pointed the gun at him mindlessly. Riki slowly edged to her, “Clara…please.” He nodded, “give it to me. I have a vest on, and I’m not going to let you do something you’ll regret.” His voice was low, steady—like a lifeline in the dark. Clara’s trembling hands faltered, the gun wobbled, and then, with a choked sob, she dropped it. The metallic clatter echoed in the cold room as it hit the floor.

You exhaled, relief crashing over you like a wave.

Riki quickly swooped up the gun as Clara plopped down on the chair in complete dejection. She looked up at her son, “are you going to kill me?”

He sighed, “I am,” he nodded with another smile he tried to smother.

She huffed out a laugh despite her tears and mucus, because if she taught Riki anything—it was that sometimes, survival meant knowing when to play the long game.

“Not today, son,” she whispered, voice raw but steady. “You’re smarter than me. You’ll make sure I pay in ways that cut deeper than a bullet ever could.”

Riki’s eyes flickered—half respect, half warning. “I’ll make sure you regret every breath you take until then.”

She nodded, somehow at peace with her fate. “Plus, if it makes you feel better—there was no real leak. I just used Yuna, Jo, and Sohee as pawns. Just distractions when I knew that Ms. Prada—” She nodded to you.

“Chanel.” You and Riki corrected simultaneously.

“...Whatever. But I knew that she was itching to get involved, I made you hyper aware of a leak. When there wasn’t anything to find. A perfect smokescreen to send you chasing ghosts while I set the real trap.” 

“So how does that explain their weird behavior?” You leaned forward despite your restraints. 

The older woman shrugs, “Sometimes people tell on themselves. But I did tell Jo to keep it from you. Said that you had other obligations and that if anyone got in the way you’d deal with them.”

Riki frowned, “Oh that pisses me off,” he pointed the gun lower and shot her kneecap. Eliciting a blood-curdling scream from the elder.

“Riki!” You yell, eyes wide as he just looks at you with humor in his eyes. “What’s wrong with you?!”

He waves you off, “Sorry,” he holsters his gun as he comes up behind you to free you. In oh-so-convenient timing, here comes Riki’s men down the bunker and into the room

The heavy metal door groaned open, and a squad of Riki’s men flooded in, their faces grim but ready. Flashlights cut through the dimness, illuminating the mess Clara had made trying to stall for time.

Riki didn’t waste a second—he tugged sharply at the zip ties binding your wrists, his hands steady but fierce. “You okay?” His voice was low, but laced with raw urgency.

You nodded, heart still hammering, eyes locked on Clara who was now clutching her injured knee, glaring daggers despite the pain. “Where were they?”

“The perimeter, you really thought I came solo?” He snickered, “I’m impulsive, not stupid.”

Riki’s men quickly secured the perimeter, eyes scanning every shadow. One of them whispered into a radio, “Target secured. Extraction ready.”

Riki glanced back at you, his expression softening just a fraction. “You’re safe now. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

You exhaled, relief flooding through you even as adrenaline kept you wired. Riki called out to all of them in the room as well as on the walkie-talkie he grabbed from one of the men. “Kobun! Clean up the mess. No loose ends. Take the old lady to the infirmary—alive. She’s got answers we’ll need later.”

He turned to you, voice low and steady, “You did good. Too good.” He brushed a stray hair from your face, the heat of his touch grounding you after the chaos. As the team moved efficiently, Riki’s eyes locked with yours—fierce, protective, and full of unspoken promises.

You smiled, “How did you break free?” 

Riki smirked, the tension easing just a fraction. He opened his mouth and lifted his tongue to reveal a tiny razor, glinting silver against the dark warmth of his mouth.

Your eyes widened. “You kept that in your mouth? What if you cut yourself?”

He shrugged, “Tongue is the fastest healing muscle. Plus, I’ve done it enough times to not get hurt.”

You blinked, “That’s not comforting.”

He took it out of his mouth and tossed it to the ground. “There. Let’s go home.” 

—

Later that night

—

The dust had settled a bit, the kitchen was still destroyed but that was tomorrow’s problem. You and Riki had been patched up on the way here. The moonlight spilled through the blackout curtains, painting silver streaks across the sheets—cold and unforgiving. Riki moved around the room with his usual quiet precision, the soft click of his boots replaced by the muted sound of him slipping out of his clothes. You didn’t say a word. Didn’t even flinch when he pulled back the covers and settled beside you in just his briefs. He liked sleeping this way.

But you didn’t let it simmer, you sat up. “Are you okay, my love?” You whispered in the still room—the still house.“Mhm, just another day at work.” He yawned as he turned to face you with a gentle smile. But you didn’t buy it. He always did this so he could be a big-bad-strong boyfriend, now he’s a big-bad-strong husband. 

“Riki, seriously?” You tilt your head in concern as you run your hand through his freshly washed hair.

He nodded, “Babe-asaurus, I’m cool as a cucumber.” 

You snorted softly, the nickname breaking through the tension like a warm breeze. “Cool as a cucumber? More like a slightly burnt pickle after today.” He chuckled, reaching out to tuck a stray strand behind your ear. “Yeah, maybe a little crispy around the edges. But I’m here. And you’re safe. That’s what matters.”

You purse your lips, you knew what he was doing. But you didn’t pry, you never liked to. “I love you.”

He sat up, pulling you in for a hug as he kissed your lips gently. “I love you more. You know I do.”

“I know,” You kissed his bare collarbone, nuzzling his smooth skin courtesy of the body scrub you made him use. 

“Let’s sleep, yeah?” He laid down on the smooth, clean linen.

You nodded against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat sync with your own. “Yeah. Sleep sounds good.”

—

But for some reason, cuddling wasn’t on the agenda. Subconsciously, you two had parted—but it wouldn’t be you or him if you didn’t touch at least. But somehow, you felt the bed tremble a bit—shaking and quivering in the midst of the silence of the room. You sat up, turning around with furrowed brows. Feeling a little groggy from the meds you were given but still cognizant enough to know what was happening around you. 

And with that, your husband is lying down with his back turned to you, on his right side. Chest caving in, breath shallow. You blinked, confusion curling into worry. That tremble wasn’t just from the meds—it was something else. Something deeper.

Riki’s shoulders shook slightly, the kind of subtle, silent tremor that only showed when no one was watching. Your heart tightened. The big-bad-strong husband was cracked open and raw underneath the armor you both pretended was unbreakable.

You reached out tentatively, fingertips brushing the edge of his arm. Before you could open your mouth, he turned around and fell right into your arms. Wrapping his arms tightly around you as he buried his face into your neck. Letting a sea of twenty-four years worth of pollution fall down your neck and onto your chest. 

Finally the dam broke, the iron curtain. The wall of stoicism was no more.

And this one time, you said nothing. You let him have it.

His bare skin pressed hot against yours, every tremble shaking through the thin sheets. The cold night air met the heat of his body, exposed and raw in nothing but his briefs—the armor stripped away, leaving only a man unraveling.

You felt the wetness against your neck before you saw it—the slick, hot tears silently tracing down his cheeks, the first you’d ever seen. His breaths hitched violently, chest rising and falling in ragged waves, his shoulders heaving with a grief he’d never let surface before.

He buried his face deeper, clinging to you like you were the last piece of solid ground. Your fingers trembled as they traced the curve of his spine, as if trying to stitch together the pieces of a broken man. You held your love through the quiet like you promised—the good, the bad, the ugly. And this was the worst of it and even then you’d rather die than give it up. Give him up.

You rubbed his back as you scooted back to lie down. Letting him put half of his weight on you as his grip didn’t relent. Not that you wanted it to. Your cold hands pressed against his warm body in effort to cool him down. But you couldn’t as seeing the strongest man in your life was at his weakest.

Tears pooled in your eyes.

You kissed the crown of his head, silent and steady—a quiet promise without words. The night held you both close, broken but unbroken, fragile yet fierce. And in that stillness, you understood something true: love isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s just holding on when everything else falls apart.

And you married a yakuza, but most importantly you married a man who lets you see the cracks—and still chooses to stay.

fin.

Copyright: © zorange13. 2025. All rights reserved. Do not repost, copy, or distribute without permission.

[hugs4nikii]

fries & binkies

As Jungwon stepped into the kitchen, the sight of you bustling around while handling both babies greeted him. He could see Jung-woo in his booster high chair, squirming as he munched on his air-fried sweet potato fries. His little legs swung back and forth, and crumbs clung to his chubby cheeks and shirt.

On the other hand, Jung-ah was sitting patiently in her high chair, her binky bobbing softly in her mouth as she observed the scene with wide, curious eyes. She let out the occasional coo, her tiny hands resting on the tray as if waiting for her turn to eat.

You were at the counter, scooping sweet potato baby food into a small bowl for Jung-ah, moving quickly to accommodate their different needs.

As Jungwon moved closer, Jung-woo’s sharp eyes locked onto him. The toddler stopped squirming and leaned over his tray protectively, his tiny hands hovering over his remaining fries.

“No!” Jung-woo declared, puffing out his little chest as if preparing for a standoff. “Mine!”

Jungwon paused, his brow arching in mild amusement at the sudden defensiveness. “What’s yours?” he asked, his voice calm yet teasing.

Jung-woo pointed at his tray, his cheeks puffed out. “Fry! No, Dada!”

You turned your head just in time to catch the interaction, laughing softly. “Jungwon, I think he thinks you’re here to steal his fries.”

Jungwon smirked faintly, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter. “Do I look like I want his fries?”

Jung-woo didn’t back down, his chubby hands clutching the tray as though Jungwon might snatch the food at any second. “No touch!”

“Alright, alright,” Jungwon said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Keep your fries, boss.”

Jung-woo momentarily narrowed his eyes at him before returning to his snack, still visibly suspicious.

Shaking his head, Jungwon walked over to Jung-ah’s high chair. The baby girl looked up at him with her big, round eyes, her binky still in place as she gurgled softly. He gently ruffled her soft hair, earning a small coo.

“She’s much more cooperative than him,” Jungwon remarked, glancing over at Jung-woo, who was still guarding his tray like it was a treasure chest.

You handed Jung-ah’s bowl and spoon to Jungwon with a smile. “If you’re not stealing fries, maybe you can help feed her?”

Jungwon hesitated for a moment but took the bowl from you. “Fine,” he said, pulling up a chair beside Jung-ah.

The baby girl kicked her legs excitedly, her binky falling from her mouth as she reached for the spoon. Jungwon carefully scooped up a small amount of the sweet potato puree and brought it to her lips.

“Open,” he said softly, and Jung-ah obediently opened her mouth, happily accepting the bite.

As the scene unfolded, you couldn’t help but glance between them. “Look at that; your Dada’s got it under control,” you teased, earning a small scoff from Jungwon.

Meanwhile, Jung-woo continued to munch on his fries, side-eyeing Jungwon now and then to ensure his snack was safe.

“Our son has trust issues,” Jungwon muttered, shaking his head as he offered Jung-ah another spoonful.

You laughed, wiping your hands on a dish towel. “I wonder where he gets that from.”

Jungwon shot you a look, but there was a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he focused on feeding his daughter.

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[hugs4nikii]

THIS IS TOO CUTEE I CANTT

behind the net!┊nishimura riki

SYNOPSIS ! expecting a suspension at most after punching your friend’s bully, you found yourself being assigned as the new boys soccer team manager. not only did you know absolutely nothing about sports, but you now had to deal with nishimura riki, the team’s star winger, absolutely hating your guts. you’d never believe someone if they told you you’d soon be enjoying your new role as manager, and dating nishimura riki, all in the same month.

PAIRING ! soccerplayer!nishimura riki x manager!f!reader

WC ! 9.8k

GENRE ! e2l, high school au, fluff, slight angst

WARNINGS ! yn punches someone, you also get punched and knocked out, lmk if there’s more

a/n: hi loves! keep in mind this is my first long lengthed fic, so it may not be perfect. i still had fun with it though, so bare with me as i learn and experiment! i hope you enjoy soccer player niki as he took me lots of time and preparing <3

choi beomgyu talks too much.

you don’t know if you’d consider the puppy-faced boy a friend; the only time you get to see him is near the end of lunch break at his locker which is found right next to yours, yet somehow, he manages to tell you all the gossip around the school in those few minutes of grabbing supplies for next period. today seemed to be no different.

“—i swear i saw them making out in the boy’s bathroom, but you didn’t hear that from me. anyways, did you know that kim jisoo from the grade above us is leaving? i knew her parents were like, having some issues n’ stuff, but apparently..”

sometimes, you just have to tune choi beomgyu out. occasionally, you offer a quick ‘mhm’ or ‘wow’ to ensure him you’re absolutely enthralled by his stories, even though in reality you’d rather be sticking a kazoo up your ear.

“—so yeah, i just feel bad for her. oh,” beomgyu pauses his movements in his locker, strangely focused on something to his right. “looks like chelsea’s messing with byeol again.”

“mhm,” you add absentmindedly, shoving your binder under your arm.

wait, what did choi beomgyu just say?

you snap your head to your locker buddy, frantically walking around him to follow his gaze. “hold on, what?”

byeol has been your best friend since you both met in the school’s photography club. you always had each other’s back, it was known to everyone that the two of you were close by the way you were almost always found together at breaks. however, you couldn’t always be there for byeol. your friend has been getting harassed by this ‘chelsea’ chick for weeks, all because byeol had submitted a photo to the school newspaper where she was in the background, making a rather unattractive face.

no matter how many times byeol apologized for the mistake, chelsea refused to forgive her for ‘ruining her high status’ around school. petty insults in the halls, taking revenge pictures of her in class, pushing disguised as ‘friendly nudges’,and much more were daily occurrences you had to witness your poor friend go through.

“why can’t you just report her?” you had asked one day.

“because y/n. snitches get stitches, everyone knows that.”

well, it definitely seemed like she was going to be getting stitches, snitching or not. you could barely make out byeol’s chestnut brown hair pressed against a locker, chelsea standing menacingly in front of her. other students were slowly forming an audience around the two, some pulling out their phones and whispering to their friends. you quickly readjusted the books in your arms, speed walking over to the girls.

“oh, bye y/n!” beomgyu calls from somewhere in the background, cluelessly unaware of the fuming expression slowly creeping up your face.

by the time you reach your best friend, chelsea has her nailed to the locker, repeatedly pushing her into it. “seriously, you’re so pathetic!” she barks, “can’t even fight back, god.”

your jaw ticks, throwing your stuff to the ground to make your presence known. when byeol notices you, she gasps, frantically throwing her hands up. “y/n! i-i can explain—“ you gently move her to the side, walking up to chelsea, and before you stop to think about the consequences, throw a solid punch to her chin.

gasps and screams circulate the halls as the students watch you glare down at your classmate who has now fallen to the ground from your jab. chelsea lets out a strangled cry, hiding her face and cradling her slowly bruising chin in her hand. “what the hell, y/n! why would you do that?!” byeol yelps to your emotionless face, shaking your shoulder.

satisfied, you grab byeol’s wrist, dragging her next to you to pick up your stuff. you ignore the many recording phones following your steps, focusing on the floor tiles in front of you. “c’mon bee, we have chemistry.”

byeol nearly trips trying to keep up with your pace, gawking at your side profile in utter shock. “h-hey! don’t call me that cute name after you just punched someone! and not just anyone, y/n. that was kim chelsea, you do know that right you crazy idiot!? you might get suspended!”

you finally let out a sigh, looking at the girl blankly as you continue walking to your class as if nothing happened. “what was i supposed to do, byeol? watch my best friend let herself get walked on like every other day?”

“w-well, she had a reason this time. i forgot to buy her lunch.”

you scoff in disbelief, “nice one.”

“no, seriously, y/n! it’s my way of paying back for that awful picture in th—“

“in the newspaper,” you recite with a roll of your eyes, “from like three weeks ago! jesus, bee. nobody fucking cares anymore but her! she has no right to treat you like dogshit even when you’ve apologized a gazillion times now.”

byeol scratches her head nervously, staring down at her neatly strapped shoes. “was that really three weeks ago? aish,” she huffs.

L/N Y/N, PLEASE REPORT TO THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE IMMEDIATELY.

“oh no,” byeol mutters, suddenly reaching over and shaking both of your shoulders aggressively, “y/n you big nincompoop, look what you’ve done! if you get expelled i’m gonna be all alone in this hellhole!”

you giggle slightly, finding yourself a bit too calm even for your standards as you place your own hands on top of hers comfortingly. “don’t worry, i’m a top student, they wouldn’t do that. i’ll probably be back here in like, five minutes okay? there’s no punishment that can bother me.”

add that to the list of famous last words.

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“i never thought i’d see you here, miss l/n.” the principal sighs, watching you settle down in the chair across from her.

“i’m sorry,” you pause for a moment before correcting yourself, “i’m sorry for disappointing you, mrs. lee.”

the woman raises an eyebrow at that, calmly lacing her ring-attired fingers on her desk. “i see. so you’re not sorry to chelsea, who is currently getting treated by the school nurses?”

“no ma’am. i would never harm anybody without a good reason.” you choose your worlds carefully, as it is not your position to be the one to tattle on chelsea, no matter how much your desires tell you to. a picture of byeol flashes through your head. your poor, naive best friend. you think any punishment would be worth helping her.

the principal seems to catch your memo quickly, nodding in understanding. “i believe you, y/n, and i can trust that you understand what you did was wrong. however, a punch is a punch, and your actions have consequences.”

“i understand too, and i’m ready to take whatever it is,” you reply confidently, nodding to the older woman in anticipation.

at your words, mrs. lee reaches next to her and opens up a yellow portfolio, holding it tightly in her hands. “very well. i decided to hold off on a suspension, as luckily enough, there was something else that desperately required someone responsible, organized, and smart like you, dear.” you curiously raise an eyebrow at that, watching as she opens up the portfolio and slides it across the desk to you. “to atone for your incident with chelsea, you will become the new boys soccer team manager.”

you freeze, unable to comprehend what was just said. you were ready to clean the bathrooms for the next few months, have detention every day for the semester, maybe clean up the mess everyday in the cafeteria. there was no way you just heard what you thought you did. in a last ditch prayer, you swallow. “i-i’m sorry, what was that?“

you swear you see the evil woman’s lips quirk a bit in some kind of amusement. “you will be the new boys soccer team manager for the year. the season starts in only three weeks, and it’d be much too difficult for mr. kwang to run the team without any help.”

did she say the year? “but- but ma’am, i don’t know anything about soccer,” you exclaim desperately, examining the papers inside the portfolio. there were all sorts of criteria and things you’d be agreeing to if you signed the contract, including missing full school days to travel with the team and attend games. just the thought of missing class to watch a bunch of sweaty, teenage boys kick balls around made you sick to your stomach. perhaps punching kim chelsea wasn’t worth it after all (sorry byeol).

“you’ll learn quickly just like you do academically, dear. and anyway, you’ll mainly be doing other things like preparing advertisements for the team, organising games and practise dates, assisting the team members, and helping mr kwang with anything else he needs,” she lists off on her fingers, gesturing to the ballpoint pen in front of you as a reminder to get signing, as you didn’t exactly have another option.

organising games? preparing advertisements? and what did assisting the team members even mean? you didn’t want to know, or even hear the words ‘boys soccer team’ ever again. yet you found yourself picking up the pen, reluctantly scribbling down your now permanently inked signature onto the dreaded contract.

what on earth did you get yourself into?

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“you’re the new what?!” you quickly cover byeol’s mouth, hiding her lips from the apple juicebox now being choked in her grasp. the students around the cafeteria glance at the two of you suspiciously, especially curious after the whole chelsea affair.

you remove your hand to reach into your daily bag of animal crackers that you never forget to bring to school, munching away with a glare. “geez, we don’t need the whole school learning my dirty secret that fast.”

“dirty? y/n, don’t you get what this means!?” byeol inquires, looking somewhat envious as she sips her juicebox. you give her a strange look, languidly reaching for your water bottle. “for the whole school year, you get to not only watch, but hang out and talk with the hottest boys in the school! punching chelsea is the best thing you’ve ever done!”

you ponder for a moment, contemplating her words with another handful of crackers. “okay, but it’s not just hot guys, bee. i have to organise and attend every one of their dumb little ball games which also means missing whole school days.” byeol doesn’t seem phased by your response before you add the next part. “and, i probably won’t have time for photography club anymore.”

she deflates at that, reaching her hand into your bag to steal a few crackers for herself. “now that does suck. promise you’ll still try to come to some meetings?”

“no promises.”

her face suddenly brightens again comically, wiggling her eyebrows. “oh and, you have to introduce me to park sunghoon. well actually— introduce me to all of them. but especially park sunghoon!”

you sigh, lazily throwing your now empty cracker bag into the garbage, “you’re too good for those out of control jocks, bee.

byeol quirks her eyebrows to you, pushing her hair back. “we’ll see about that when you end up falling for one of those soccer boys. it’s inescapable being with those handsome faces all year.”

“i’m slightly offended that you think this lowly of me.”

your best friend stands up from the cafeteria bench, giving her juicebox one last, dramatic sip. “fine, but when you do fall in love, remember this conversation!”

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two days after signing your life away to the soccer team would be your first day meeting them. you were to be at the school’s field right after dismissal for practise, 3:15 sharp. your backpack was all ready, prepared with absolutely anything you may need: a water bottle in case mr kwang decides to make you do any sort of physical activity, your animal crackers (obviously), a flashlight since you weren’t exactly sure how late you’d be at practise, your camera to take pictures for photography club, and much more.

this didn’t exactly mean you were ready though. you had absolutely no idea what you were supposed to do, there was no team manager training courses. and not only were you going to be inspected like a piece of meat by a bunch of attractive boys, but you also had to watch them play soccer all afternoon.

with a million thoughts going through your mind, you make your way closer to the soccer field than you’ve ever been in your life, pushing open the black gate surrounding the perimeter. for whatever reason, there were rows and rows of girls in the bleachers watching the boys practise, all giving you angry, disapproving looks as you step onto the field. the grass is fake, you realise, noticing the bits of black tires hidden in the plastic turf. you’re going to love finding those in every crevice of your poor shoes. when you look up, heat rushes to your cheeks as you meet the eyes of practically the entire soccer team on you, probably wondering why on earth some random girl with a backpack bigger than her has just walked onto their home field.

you scan your eyes over the team, finding a few familiar faces. #19 was sim jaehyun, or jake, who was known for being an absolute playboy, yet still managed to pull a new girl each week. he was quite funny though, you could appreciate his jokes even from afar in class.

when #12 turns around, you immediately recognise the handsome profile of park sunghoon. not only did he play soccer, but he was an amazing figure skater, or so you heard. byeol would probably faint at the sight of him now, dripping with sweat despite practise starting only minutes prior.

that’s definitely lee heeseung, you notice his pink hair miles away paired with his #20 jersey. he was amazing at everything, academic wise he was another top student, yet he still somehow made time to be in almost every sports team the school had to offer, also placing as one of the best players. you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a big role on this team as well.

out of the corner of your eye, you notice a pale boy with black, curly hair staring daggers into your side, soccer ball held between his fingers tightly. when you turn your gaze towards him, he stubbornly whips back around. #10, nishimura, his jersey reads.

“ah, right on time as expected, y/n!” at their coaches loud voice, the team gets even more interested, pausing their movements with the balls at their cleats.

“oh no, another chick from the nerd emporium.” you hear park jay mutter with his hands on his hips.

“i don’t mind the journal club girls. they always get flustered so easily, it’s hilarious. and look, at least she’s pretty cute,” jake shrugs back.

you hold in the urge to roll your eyes, grinning as mr. kwang shakes your hand. “it’s nice to finally meet you,” you chirped.

“no, no! the pleasure is all mine. we’re going to have such a fun year together,” he chortles, bringing you right to the middle of the field. the sudden, loud screech of a whistle makes you jump slightly, observing cautiously as the boys run over like a bunch of herded sheep. they messily form in a line, a few of them mischievously bumping each other's shoulders before they notice your presence, slowly looking you up and down. you gulp. one thing byeol was right about was that they were all hot. and very sweaty.

some of the boys offer you little waves, which you softly offer in return. a few of them smile at you or offer a quick nod when your eyes meet, crossing their arms tightly over the school’s purple jerseys. the nishimura boy from earlier though, looks at you with a bored, almost angry frown, finding the turf more interesting than anything you have to offer.

you don’t get a chance to wonder why when mr. kwang suddenly wraps a big arm around your shoulder. “boys, meet the new member of our team!”

it was silent for a moment, the team all exchanging weird looks. “coach, it’s just another journal club article, right?” a shorter boy with bright red hair and cat-like features asks.

“not quite, captain.” at the nickname, you glance at the bright yellow pad on the red haired boy’s arm. it didn’t take a genius to figure out he must be the team’s captain. “this is l/n y/n, our new team manager!”

“what?” nishimura speaks for the first time, his face finally sparking with some emotion, though he didn’t sound too pleased.

“she’s our manager?” jake points to you with an amused giggle.

mr. kwang proudly ruffles your head, promptly destroying your once tidy hairstyle. “you betcha, sim! for the rest of the year too, so get used to her being around. now, i need to get her organised. keep doing those drills!” he blows the whistle around his neck again, watching as all the boys quickly jog back to their positions. though, you can still feel most of their eyes on your back as you walk over to the bench with their coach.

“so, y/n. i know you don’t exactly want to be here.” when he sees you try to speak up in defense, he raises a hand. “it’s okay, my feelings aren’t hurt.” you both laugh, sitting and watching the boys train around the field. “it’s just, i think you might find yourself enjoying this job if you really give them a try.”

you rest your face on your hand, giving his words a thought. “maybe. it’s just, this is all a bit overwhelming, y’know?”

mr kwang pats your shoulder, “of course it is, and that’s okay. but i’m sure with a few weeks, you’ll get the hang of things and find yourself enjoying it out here on the field! just give the team a chance and make the best out of your new family, okay?” you offer a small nod, watching as he pulls a white whistle and a clipboard out of his duffel bag. “consider this my welcome gift to you,” he announces proudly, offering the items to you.

you quickly take them, looking at the man in surprise. “oh, thank you sir! what’s the whistle for?”

“anytime you need to get their attention, of course,” mr kwang winks, gesturing to the boys. “it’s pretty fun watching them run over to you like a bunch of dogs playing fetch, you’ll see for yourself shortly.” suddenly, he gets up, seemingly remembering something important. “oh, and come with me, dear!”

you swiftly get up to follow him into what seems to be the team’s locker room, throwing your new whistle around your neck in the process. it’s not very tidy; random pairs of knee pads and socks are scattered around the room carelessly, and multiple shorts and jerseys almost make a trail leading all the way to the showers nearby. not to mention it reeked of sweat, and well, teenage boys. mr. kwang quickly notices the disgusted crinkles on your face, laughing out an apology on behalf of the mess.

though your expression quickly turns to one of shock when he continues past the locker rooms and through the hall that leads to two black doors. one reading ‘coach kwang’ and the other reading ‘manager’. the inside was just as surprising, gasping as he ushers you into a neatly organised office with multiple, tidy shelves and a big desk. “what the- is this for me?” you mutter in denial, gripping your clipboard tighter.

mr. kwang smiles, offering you a key attached to a purple lanyard. “yes of course! there is going to be quite a lot of work when it comes to organising the team’s events and advertising games, so this is just a private space that can always be available if needed.”

“thank you so much, i’ll use it well!” you bow gratefully. wait until byeol hears about all this, she’s definitely going to want to see for herself.

after mr kwang led you around the rest of the building and fed you helpful advice along the way, the both of you ended up back outside where the boys seemed to be having a water break.

“there they are!” a cute blonde haired boy you recall as sunoo sings, making the rest of the team’s heads turn to see you.

heeseung is the first to walk up to you, offering his sweaty hand out politely. “it’s nice to meet you, manager,” he says smugly, smirking down at you.

you offer him a challenging tilt of your head, shaking his hand firmly. “you too, lee heeseung.” you do your best to keep up a cool exterior, even though you’re slightly freaking out on the inside from all the attention. this was completely different to the feeling of all the eyes after punching chelsea; it felt more like you were being inspected piece by piece, especially by the nishimura boy, who’s sitting cross legged on the ground with his waterbottle. you’re yet to find out his first name, but you had a feeling he had no interest in telling you by the icy glare he throws your way.

what on earth have you ever done to him? you don’t think you even have a single class with the boy, not to mention speaking to him.

“manager,” sim jake calls out your new nickname cockily, pushing his hair back. “out of all of us, who’s the most attractive?”

out of pure instinct, your eyes travel to nishimura for a split second, quickly looking back to jake. damn it, y/n! what was that? out of all the boys, you choose the one that hates you? it was already too late, as the rest of the boys immediately followed your split second glance to their teammate. “niki? seriously manager, i’m way better looking than him,” sunghoon remarks disapprovingly.

you hurriedly raise your hands in defense, “wh-what? i never said i chose him!”

nishimura — or niki — seems almost repulsed by the discussion at hand, still refusing to even look at you as he gives his teammates a disgusted look.

“cute,” jay laughs along with a few others at the growing blush on your cheeks, sipping his water.

suddenly, the red headed captain lets out a sigh, reaching over to pat your shoulder. “you idiots are scaring her, shut up.” he suddenly leans closer to you, warm breath fanning your ear. “welcome to the team. i’m the captain, yang jungwon. i hope we can be friends.” he smirks slightly at the redness of your face before backing up again, and it makes you question if he really feels sympathy for you.

honestly, what was even happening anymore? were you in a drama? a romance webtoon? you originally insisted you were never one to fall for such charms, yet here you were, a flustered mess over a few pretty faces. “uh-“ you gulp, “it’s nice to meet you too— all of you. i’ll do my best to help the team.”

“how’d you become our manager anyway?” heeseung questions, a few of the boys nodding in agreement. at this, niki’s head raises in interest for the first time, awaiting your response carefully.

you swallow nervously, unsure if you should tell them the truth. if they were going to be your ‘family’, you might as well show some honesty. “well uh, no offense, but i’m not here because i want to be. i know nothing about soccer,” you begin.

niki scoffs at that, rolling his eyes, “of course you don’t.” he only glares coldly when jake elbows his side.

“i’m here as a punishment. for-“ you look down, feeling embarrassment about what you did for the first time all because of niki’s scrutiny. “for punching kim chelsea.” sounds of surprise circle the team at your confession, and you watch in worry as niki’s jaw clenches, his fists tightening at his sides as if he’s holding himself back.

do.. niki and chelsea know each other?

“that was you!?” jungwon gasps, nervously checking on his younger, black haired friend. he then walks over to him and whispers something into his ear, soothingly patting his back.

“no way,” jake mutters.

your eyebrows furrow, finally making eye contact with niki for the first time with a sudden urge to defend yourself, “i didn’t do it for fun! i—“

“just be quiet,” niki spits, throwing his blue hoodie and bag over his shoulder before walking off the field, away from the team without another word.

“yah, nishimura! get your ass back here and apologize!” jay barks with no result.

“there’s still twenty minutes of practise, bro!” sunghoon adds.

jungwon only sighs, looking at you pitifully. “sorry about him, it’s.. it’s a long story. i think you two should figure it out alone.”

“i only punched chelsea to defend my friend, who she’s been bullying for weeks straight,” you finish saying what niki didn’t let you, frustratedly pushing your hair back.

the boys seemed flabbergasted by this discovery, exchanging shocked glances. “yeah, you really gotta talk to him,” jake acknowledges.

day one as the soccer team manager, and you think you’d rather be dead.

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the news of your recently gained title spread like wildfire around school by the next morning. not only were random girls asking you for information about the team members all day, but the boys themselves constantly waved or said hi to you in the halls, earning you a handful of jealous glares from said girls.

you nearly choke in confusion when you open your locker to see about twenty letters piled up in a small mountain, some decorated to grab your attention and stand out more than the rest. you cautiously look around for a moment before grabbing one of the letters, opening it up carefully.

dearest y/n (aka the manager),

i know you don’t know me, but i have handwritten this letter in search of desperate help regarding yang jungwon. what is he like with his friends? does he smell good? he’s an amazing captain to his team, right? please, i have to know what i need to do to reach his heart. shall i prepare flowers and a teddy bear? some new cleats? please send advice, i need to get him to notice me.

sincerely, yang rei.

jesus christ. was this seriously what all these letters were for? you’ve only spent a day with the team so far, and this was the result? how were you supposed to know if jungwon preferred flowers or cleats?

“y/n!” as if your morning couldn’t get worse, the biggest yapper himself, choi beomgyu appears out of thin air. “i heard you’ve been assigned the boys soccer team manager after you got in trouble with the principal for punching-“

“hi beomgyu. yep, thanks for the summary.” you cut in, smiling passive aggressively.

the brown haired boy doesn’t get the memo, smiling back enthusiastically while raising a nosy eyebrow at your letter tower. “you sure are popular now, huh? what’s with all the letters?”

none of your business, choi beomgyu. “yeah, i kinda have a fanclub now.” technically, that wasn’t a lie. in your peripheral vision, a familiar nest of black curls walks by, the same blue hoodie from practice thrown over his uniform. nishimura riki. for some strange reason, you feel a sweep of butterflies rush through you at the sight of the boy who would probably rather spend his time with a wet sock than with you.

‘remember this conversation when you fall in love!’ the teasing voice of byeol snaps you out of your trance, slamming your locker shut and rushing to catch up with him.

“bye, y/n!” beomgyu says in the background once again. his dumb voice truly sounds like deja vu, instead you might be the one getting punched this time around with the face niki makes when he sees you walking next to him.

“the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snarls, speeding up his pace in an attempt to lose you.

“listen, i don’t know why you care about chelsea so much,” shit! why did you start with mentioning her of all things? niki immediately growls in annoyance, purposely pushing through groups of people in the halls. you run to catch up to him, apologising to the students you nudge along the way. “but- but you need to let me explain.”

“get away from me. i don’t need to be seen with someone who hurt my friend out of jealousy,” he states firmly.

you freeze, looking at his expressionless side profile. “jealousy? what are you even talking about? just let me tell you my side. please, niki.”

without even considering your offer or sparing a glance, niki enters his classroom, slamming the door right on your face.

“what the fuck!” you curse furiously under your breath. making a fool out of yourself just for some dumb soccer boy’s approval? what’s your pathetic reputation come to?

no. if nishimura riki wants to try and hate you that bad, then so be it. but you’ll never be one to turn down a challenge.

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niki hates the fact that through his whole history class, he’s too busy thinking about l/n y/n to process anything that’s being taught. he has never been so interested in a girl before, definitely not someone like you who he was supposed to hate. for some reason, he didn’t like when you laughed and high fived his teammates in the hallways. he didn’t like how you now sat next to jungwon in maths, and he had to deal with seeing you guys whisper in each others ears for the whole hour. and in the hallways just now? you looked so cute running to catch up to him, so desperate to try and get his attention.

guilt rushes through him for thinking of you in such a way. no! that is not why he’s thinking about you. you’re not cute at all.

but what did you want to explain? why you punched one of his closest friends? he already knew everything, chelsea wouldn’t lie to him, right?

he recalls rushing into the school nursing room when he heard what’d happened, wanting to check on his friend. “geez, it’s bruising bad. did you accidentally bite your lip when it happened?” he had asked worriedly, cupping chelsea’s chin as if she were a fragile vase.

she sniffles, holding his wrist in her grip tightly. “mhm, it hurts so bad, ki.”

niki frowns, biting his lip. in his opinion, his friend’s being in pain was more painful than if it was his own. anger flows through him as he continues to inspect the girl’s wound. “who did this?”

“l/n y/n,” she doesn’t hesitate even a bit, eyes turning to slits, “it-it’s cause she’s jealous of me i guess. she always hated me for my looks, i don’t know.”

and ever since that day, niki had gone on a mission to find l/n y/n.

yet the minute he saw you walk on that field with your dumb, giant backpack, he knew he would never be able to punch you back.

niki groans, ruffling his black locks with his free hand while wondering how on earth to get you out of his head.

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two practises until the season begins and surprisingly, you were getting along with the boys well (apart from a certain someone). you’ve learned a few important things about not only the team members, but also soccer itself: heeseung usually plays a position called striker, which is the highest position on the field and the most common spot for scoring goals. niki and jake were the main left and right wingers, and are usually the ones assisting heeseung in scoring. jungwon explained to you how nobody stays on the field for too long, everyone gets breaks by subbing for each other on and off the bench. you were pretty proud of your growing knowledge of the sport considering you started from nothing, and you were even more excited to show the team what you’d been working on.

ignoring the daily glares of the female spectators on the bleachers, you trail onto the field and over to where the boys are practising. “manager!” jake waves at the sight of you, a big, goofy smile growing on his face. at your nickname, the rest of the boys look up, waving to you as well. niki simply stares at you, rolling his eyes stubbornly.

“hi, y/n!” jungwon greets, kicking the ball at his feet over to you.

you yelp, nearly stumbling over it. “yah, i’m not your teammate!” you awkwardly do your best to boot it back in his general direction, luring an amused chuckle out of the captain. anyone could tell sports were not your thing by that single interaction. “anyways, all of you c’mere.” for the fun of it, you demandingly blow your whistle along the way.

“i think we heard you just fine,” jay teases, watching you set your backpack down on the bench.

sunghoon sighs, crossing his arms. “you know how she gets with the whistle. it’s almost as scary as mr. kwang when someone forgets to turn the showers off.”

“very funny,” you pout, pulling out your clipboard along with a bag of animal crackers.

“so what’re we all here for,” heeseung inquires, “an animal cracker mukbang?” a few snickers are heard around the team as some boys decide to take a seat on the turf.

“geez, you guys are so impatient. here,” you show them the papers you’ve printed, proudly gesturing for jungwon to pass them around.

“what’s this— wait,” jungwon’s eyes widen, scanning the documents over. “y/n, is- aren’t these players from the team we’re going against for our first game?

you smirk, shoving a handful of crackers into your mouth. “yep, spent a few hours researching all about ‘em. their most probable starting lineup, goalie’s weak spots, each players positions and things to watch out for, and more. all on those papers.”

“that’s our manager!” a new voice praises. mr kwang looks pleased as he walks over, placing a hand on your shoulder happily. “very well done, y/n. this will be a big help when planning our strategy.”

“holy shit, this is insane,” jay mutters, flipping through the pages slowly. even niki has nothing to complain about, studying them over his hyung’s shoulder.

“language, and that’s enough. all of you back to your drills! let’s go!” mr. kwang barks, blowing his whistle and winking at you as all the boys practically sprint back to their spots in fear.

the next half an hour you spend writing stats about each of the boys and how they’re playing during practice. every once in a while, one of them will jog over to the bench and you’ll hand them their water bottle, all while stuffing your face with animal crackers (jake stole a few at one point, and you were not pleased).

“water,” a deep voice mumbles. you pause your writing to look up and find niki staring down at you, uniform drenched in sweat and exhaustion.

he looks like an angel, skin glistening beautifully under the sun as he pushes his moist bangs away from his forehead. for a moment, you just admire him, mouth parted slightly. “geez, get a hold of yourself.” he impatiently makes his way behind you to where the water bottles are, chugging down the refreshment obnoxiously. it almost feels like he’s showing off now, purposely throwing his head back and displaying his adam’s apple as it bobs after every sip.

niki catches your spying as he finishes the drink, scoffing in amusement. “why don’t you take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

you gulp, sheepishly looking back down at your clipboard. “i wasn’t looking at you.”

“mhm. you have crumbs on your lips by the way,” he comments. you lift a hand to try and wipe them off, but to no avail according to the annoyed look niki sends your way. he rolls his eyes, walking over and bending down in front of you.

oh god, this was bad, very bad. why is he so close? his moles are even more endearing up front, and you can feel his breath fan your face as he lifts a hand to your lips, slowly wiping the crumbs off with his thumb. “need me to do everything for you? i thought you’re my manager.” heat rushes to your cheeks, unable to form a reply.

and with that, niki turns around, walking away as if nothing happened.

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the next few days flew by with little difficulty— or at least, in the nishimura riki department. you decided to not confront him about his stunt at last practise, but that wasn’t fully your choice; you’ve been discovering the hard way that trying to balance school and being a team manager was like trying to play two instruments at the same time. first you’d have your classes full of new assignments, then you stay after school to get manager work done, and then you go straight from your office to the library to study, and by the time you get home it’s already dark and dinner is left cold on the counter for you.

byeol was not happy with your newly packed schedule either, especially now that photography club was out of the question. but there was no time to worry about your friend now, practise was starting in five minutes and your precious animal crackers were nowhere to be found. the search to find the snack would be much easier if there weren’t hundreds of letters stuffed in your poor locker daily. you were seriously getting sick of throwing out notes asking what perfume park sunghoon used.

“y/n.” that voice sounded awfully, unpleasantly familiar. you whip around from your locker, locking eyes with a frowning kim chelsea.

your eyebrows furrow, inspecting the bruise on her chin. “chelsea.”

she seems to get even angrier at your nonchalant response, eye twitching as she reaches out to shove you against your open locker, making the letters inside sprinkle to the ground. your right shoulder slams against your locker shelf, making you hiss out in pain. “seriously, you want to do this again?” you snarl, now holding your aching shoulder.

“how the hell did you become their manager?” chelsea barks, throwing punch after punch in your direction. her throwing speed clearly isn’t very promising, as it takes you no effort to dodge out of the way before every strike. “yah, tell me!” she screams, moving back as you try to grab her wrists and calm her down.

what’s with the deja vu? students have formed around the both of you again, pulling out their phones and calling their friends over. you swear you can see beomgyu’s fluffy brown hair in the crowd, but he doesn’t look very excited by the fight. he looks almost.. worried for you.

while you’re distracted, chelsea rips her hand away from your restraint, landing a solid punch to your jaw. ouch. as soon as the contact is made, the room starts spinning. it seems you’ve fallen to the ground by the blurry groups of students looking down at you. for some reason, you can’t hear their screams much, almost like you’re underwater. the lights are extra bright now, and everything just keeps twirling around like a beyblade until it all goes black. wait.. is that byeol? you recognise her chocolate hair even if it’s unclear and fuzzy. and hold on.. wasn’t that niki who was kneeling down next to you..? you’re too lightheaded to know for sure.

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ah, so this is what kim chelsea felt like only a few days prior. your lips were dry and chapped, and you felt like you’ve slept for a week straight. there’s a screaming ache on your right shoulder, and your jaw hurts every time you open your mouth.

oh right, you were shoved. and punched. by kim chelsea.

you smack your lips, pushing yourself up from the school clinic’s bed to find byeol on her phone, kicking her feet in the air like a child next to you. she gasps when she notices your movements, rushing over to your side. “you’re awake! you were out for a whole two hours you big, stupid, idiot.”

you chuckle at her relentless insults, pulling your friend in for a much needed hug. “thanks for staying with me. and what do you mean? this time it was all chelsea.”

“i know, i know, but you always find a way to make me worried! can’t you go just one week without getting in a fight?” byeol complains, reaching down to hold your hand in hers.

“sorry, bee.” shit, realization hits you like lightning. “wait, i missed soccer practise! that was the last practise before our first game this week, and i had so much planned for training and—“

byeol squeezes your hand, laughing at your strange choice of priorities. “y/n, calm down. you literally have injuries all over you, why are you worried about the soccer team? i’m sure they’ll be fine.” byeol suddenly smirks, as if she knows something you don’t. “speaking of, this one black haired boy seemed really worried about you. after he yelled at chelsea for a bit, he piggybacked you all the way here.”

“seriously?” your eyes widen. niki helped you?

byeol nods in confirmation. “i went too, of course! i was like, the most worried about you. just for the record, i was much, much more worried than your boyfriend.” you smack the girl’s arm, making her let out a mischievous snicker. “but yeah. along the way he asked me a bit about what happened, so i told him how chelsea was well- making me buy her lunch and constantly pushing me—“

“bullying you,” you correct sternly.

“yeah,” your friend gulps. “which is why you punched her n’ all that. then he went really quiet. also, he wanted to stay with you but he had practice.”

you sigh. while you made it out with a bruising jaw and sore shoulder, at least niki knows the truth. for some reason, you find yourself beaming at the thought (then proceeding to hiss in pain at the ache in your jaw).

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four days after chelsea (who hasn’t been seen since) punched you was the next time you saw niki. your shoulder had healed completely, while your jaw was still getting there in due time. over the four days, you’ve been putting up the advertisements you and byeol proudly made to bring in more people to the upcoming game, sticking them to the walls all around school.

“y/n!” for the first time since you’ve met him, niki says your name with an adorable smile on his face. though you were a bit confused, your heart can’t help but beat loudly at his cute expression. he jogs over to you, cheekily throwing an arm around your shoulder. “what’re you doing?”

how could this be the same boy who was so cold to you days prior? “oh, so we’re friends now?” you ask, half serious.

niki swallows, turning his gaze away from you. “look. i’m- i’m really sorry for not giving you a chance to tell your side of the story and being well, a dick. i really should’ve heard you out before treating you like that.”

you nod in approval, looking back down to tape another advertisement to the wall. “it’s okay, practises will be much less tense now without you staring holes into the back of my head.” when you don’t get a response, you open your mouth to speak before you're suddenly pushed against the wall, arms caging you on either sides of your head by the taller boy.

he has a small, cocky smirk on his face at your dumbfounded expression when he leans closer. “y/n?”

your swear your chest is going to explode, butterflies running wild at the sight of niki’s face being only inches from yours. thank god the hallway was empty, or the blush on your cheeks would only get much worse. “ye-yeah?”

he tilts his head, looking down at you with an unreadable glint. “out of curiosity, do you still think i’m the hottest on my team?”

seriously? what kind of question is that?! you do your best to stay calm, turning your head away from him nervously. “uh— maybe,” you mumble.

niki doesn’t seem to approve of your answer, bringing a hand to pull your chin back towards him. you swear you see his eyes flicker down to your lips for a second, but they’re back to staring straight into your soul before you can act on it. “maybe?“

you know what he wants to hear. “fine. yes i do, idiot. happy?”

“very. i knew you had a crush on me.”he grins smugly, releasing you from the wall as if nothing happened.

“wh- i didn’t say that!” you blush more realizing that you never denied his claim.

niki seems to catch on to this as well, snickering under his breath. “want some help with those?” he gestures to the posters.

that’s how you ended up spending another thirty minutes running around school with niki, laughing and talking as you put up his game’s advertisements.

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niki tunes out the constant bickering of the boys circulating the changeroom, focusing on tying his cleats. it was finally game day, and he was more than ready to show off in front of you be back on the field with his teammates. it was a home game, so niki had the advantage of being able to start warming up earlier while their opponents were busy driving here. he wondered what you were thinking, probably on the way to the field now. were you excited? did you want to watch him play? were you planning to cheer for him?

suddenly, he’s been smacked on the head with something hard. “ow! what the hell, bro?” he looks down to see the weapon of choice, jake’s knee pad.

“we’ve been trying to get your attention, but you were too busy having your little main character moment.” jay sniggers with a few others, tying on his own cleats.

niki rubs the spot he was hit, cursing. “the fuck are you talking about?”

“don’t try to act all innocent,” sunghoon smirks, pulling off his t-shirt to change into his jersey. “i caught you two lovebirds putting up those posters, giggling and flirting in your own little world~”

niki feels his cheeks heat up slightly, shyly looking back down at his cleats. damn it, how the hell did he not catch sunghoon spying on the both of you? “we weren’t flirting,” he mutters defensively.

“mhm, not even when you pinned her to the wall like in some cringy kdrama?”

jungwon gawks in surprise, “our little niki did what?!”

“with his hands next to her head n’ everything. i’m so proud,” sunghoon laughs teasingly, ruffling the boy’s hair.

niki only groans, hiding his face in his hands shyly. “do you guys ever shut the fuck up?”

“you love us.”

jake wiggles his eyebrows, “true, but he loves y/n more.”

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you cheerily skip over to the soccer field, humming to the song blasting through your earbuds. ‘it’s more than like, L 다음 또 O 다음 난 yeah! you and i, it’s more than like, what’s after like?’ only moments later you end up turning off your music, as it’s overthrown by the sound of screaming and cheering from the bleachers. there was no school today in celebration of the first soccer game of the season, explaining the rows and rows of students holding signs up and taking pictures. some have jerseys that they’ve bought from the concession, and you send a harsh glare to one girl with niki’s name on hers.

“y/n!” you know that voice anywhere, searching the crowd before finding byeol waving to you, holding a sign with your name on it. it has hearts and little stars all around it, messily colored in with shades of pink and red.

classic byeol, you snicker. “yah, what is that? i’m not the one playing!” you yell over the cheers, secretly feeling your heart burst from adoration.

she smirks proudly, blowing a kiss to you. “i know, i’m only here for you though.”

before you can reply, two arms abruptly pull you backwards into a sturdy chest, warm breath heating your earlobe. “should i be worried about her stealing you from me?”

you turn around in the embrace to find niki smirking down at you, dressed in his black shorts and purple jersey. from the bleachers behind, you hear a few surprised gasps and angry whispers. you raise an eyebrow, “and when did i give you permission to own me in the first place?”

niki grows his signature smirk again, pulling you tighter against his body. “when you admitted to having a crush on me.”

“damn, that was good,” you hear byeol say somewhere in the background.

you scoff, pushing him away (mostly because if you stayed that close to him any longer you’d inevitably explode) and dragging him back to his team, who seems to be in the middle of doing a stretch led by heeseung.

“manager!” sunghoon and jay both grin, eyes narrowing down on your hand intertwined with niki’s.

jungwon easily notices too, but doesn’t comment on it, only smiling cutely as usual. “hi y/n!”

“hey, you guys ready to win?” you grin, releasing niki’s hand to pull out your clipboard. the boy pouts at the loss of contact, reluctantly jogging over to his team to continue stretching.

“never been readier.” jake sighs, completely confident and relaxed.

“great, then let’s do attendance.” you click the back of your pen, beginning to call out the names of every player. “heeseung?”

“here,” he quickly replies as you check off his name.

thankfully, every player on the team seemed to be present as you continued down the list. “and lastly, sunoo.”

“here!”

“perfect,” you praise. something felt wrong, though. like.. something or someone was missing despite the flawless attendance.

“hey guys,” heeseung uttered, watching the opposing team make their way onto the field. “the game starts in five minutes and coach kwang still isn’t here.”

at the striker’s words, everyone frantically looks around, realisation hitting. “shit, you’re right! how did we not notice he was missing before?” jay exclaims.

niki looks at you with desperate eyes. “if we don’t have a coach, doesn’t that mean we have to..”

you gulp, nodding in confirmation. “forfeit.”

“what? it’s the first fucking game of the season, we can’t,” jake wails, ruffling his hair anxiously.

luck clearly wasn’t on your side, as the referee begins making his way over, holding his whistle sternly. “we’re ready to begin, where’s the coach?” he asks, closely scanning his eyes over your team.

the boys all look around awkwardly before jungwon steps up as captain. “uh, we’re actually still waiting for him, sir. do you think we can get an extra few minutes?”

the referee sighs, glancing at his watch. “you have five minutes.”

so you waited. one minute became two, two became four, until time was already up. mr. kwang was nowhere to be found, and you were stressed, so stressed that not even your animal crackers could calm you down. niki laid across the bench, head in your lap with his eyes closed. you massage his scalp, playing with his curly locks in an attempt to calm yourself down while the rest of the boys make themselves busy picking at the turf or lazily dribbling a ball around.

the referee starts making his way back over to you, checking his watch once again. “time’s up. do you have a coach, or are you forfeiting?”

as jungwon opens his mouth to announce the team’s surrender, niki shoots up from his spot on your lap. “we have a coach,” he states confidently. everyone whips their heads over to the boy, watching as he points to you with full determination. “she’s our coach.”

jake and sunghoon burst into laughter, while the others exchange mixed expressions. meanwhile, you’re having a mini panic attack, staring daggers into the side of the boy’s skull. niki expects you to pretend to be a coach? being manager was hard enough, you knew absolutely nothing about coaching! mr. kwang, why are you doing this to me?

“ma’am, is this true?” it was clear the referee was a bit unsure and judging you (which was fair considering you looked more like one of the boy’s nerdy little sister if anything), but there wasn’t much he could do without proof.

you glance at niki, instantly giving in when you see his puppy eyes. “y-yes, i’m their coach.”

“alright then, please send your starting lineup onto the field.”

the millisecond the referee has gained enough distance, the team lets out a synchronized sigh of relief. “i hope you guys know what you’re doing, or this is going to be a disaster,” you scold specifically niki, running a stressed hand through your hair.

“don’t worry manager, we got this under control!” jake chirps, happily running onto the field with the rest of the team following close behind.

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you don’t know how you’re going to survive watching soccer games all year. you’re praying it isn’t because the boys are trying to figure out most of the plays and strategies without coach kwang’s guidance, but it was a close tie; 1 to 1 with only five minutes left. jungwon and sunoo were doing an amazing job on defense, but the forwards were having just as much trouble as the other team trying to get anywhere close to the net.

you ran out of animal crackers to soothe your worry, so now you were anxiously clicking the back of your pen, watching as the other team sprinted down the field with the ball. the guy chooses to go down the right side of the field and as he approaches, jungwon leers, watching his feet carefully. “c’mon won, you got this,” you mutter under your breath.

the enemy winger suddenly pretend to go right, and as jungwon swiftly plunges out to match his direction, he swerves and runs left, right towards the goal. “shit, shit!” your foot begins tapping, watching jungwon cuss under his breath in defeat. jay, the goalie, your last hope, quickly bends his knees, his gloved hands out in preparation.

sunoo desperately tries to run in and stop him, but it’s too late as the enemy already takes a shot. it was like slow motion, jungwon and sunoo running to try and block the ball with their body, jay jumping to his right and reaching out for the ball milliseconds before it finds the net. “yes!” you cheer, watching your goalie protectively hold the ball to his chest, releasing a stressed exhale.

two minutes on the clock, it was now or never. jay throws the ball towards sunoo, who then passes it on to niki up on left wing. this was probably their last chance to solve the tie before time ran out. niki sprints down the field, getting past the opponents winger before kicking it over to heeseung. the striker runs faster than ever before, speeding right past the defenseman with a focused expression. you were clicking your pen even faster now, glancing back to the clock. 1 minute and 27 seconds remaining. “heeseung!” niki shouts, raising a hand to signal that he was open for a pass. the pink haired boy obeys, kicking the ball over and giving niki the opportunity to shoot.

“please, please niki, you can do this.” you’ve now left your spot on the bench, hovering closer to the sidelines for a better view of the intense match.

just as a defenceman runs in to check him, niki slams the ball up into the air, aiming straight for the left corner. it was so precise, in fact, that not even the goalie could reach high enough to stop it. the minute the ball hit the goal, screams were heard, spectators probably crying, being much too dramatic for a school soccer game yet here you were, hollering in pure joy as niki gets jumped by his teammates with a big goofy smile on his face. and just like that, the buzzer rings loudly with perfect timing, indicating the end of the game and another symphony of happy shouting and applause surrounds the field.

you were so blissed by relief you barely noticed niki pulling away from his teammates to run over and give you a big, sweaty hug. though due to his height, he ends up lifting you off the ground a bit, shaking you around like a stuffed toy. “that- that was amazing!” you hug him back happily. “you were like, like running so fast, and then that guy tried to stop you but totally failed because you were just that good!! and that shot?! the poor goalie had no ch— mmph!” oh. before you could finish your sentence, nishimura riki was already pushing his lips onto yours. they were soft and plush, molding against your own wonderfully under his cute nose that gently brushed yours. his kisses were a bit (very) messy, but it was really just because he was so overjoyed. scoring the winning goal and kissing you in one day? double whammy if you ask him.

you’re the first to pull away, arms still around his neck as you catch your breath. before you can stop to think, the first thought that comes to your head tumbles out of your mouth. “can we do that again?” you inwardly slap yourself out of embarrassment.

the boy bursts into laughter, throwing his head back teasingly. “wow, you really like me.”

you scowl, “no shit, sherlock. but whatever, i guess i’ll go kiss jungwon instead.”

“hey, why am i a part of this lover’s quarrel?” jungwon magically appears behind you with a raised brow, the rest of the team happily following behind.

“manager,” sunghoon interjects, “rate niki’s kisses from one to ten.”

niki groans, “you guys are so annoying.”

“hmm,” you pretend to think, making niki glare at you in offense. “maybe.. a three?” you smirk.

“wh- a three?!” niki whines. the boys burst into laughter, shoving their teammate back and forth. “and i was gonna ask you out,” he pouts sadly.

you tilt your head, pondering for a moment. “if you buy me some animal crackers, maybe i’ll say yes.”

“animal crackers and bowling, then?” he compensates.

you smile, “deal.”

with that, niki fist bumps the air, screaming a victorious “let’s go!” before running to the changeroom. of course, not before kissing you one last time for the road. you chuckle at his childish antics, touching your lips in an attempt to process what’d just happened.

okay, maybe being the soccer team’s manager wouldn’t be too bad.

you’ve reached the end hurray! if you enjoyed, reblogs n’ comments are always very appreciated and motivating for me to keep writing!

© delcakoo on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not rewrite, cross-post, translate, copy, etc.

perm taglist: @duolingofanaccount @strawberry-sunset-skies @scented-morker @koshinene @boowoowho @sultrybaby

[hugs4nikii]

THIS WAS SOO GOODD

THE WEDDING DUTIES — P.JS

SYNOPSIS: Reuniting with your sworn enemy after years of no contact was an interesting experience to say the least. Despite having not seen each other for ages, the undeniable tension between you and him was the same, palpable. It didn’t help that you and him were now forced to spend time together thanks to a wedding and completing wedding duties with each other. As people would say, forced proximity and a single bed was the solution to it, and boy it was. Two weeks in Greece and a whole lot of pre wedding activities was about to turn an old rivalry into something else, love.

PAIRINGS: best man!jay x maid of honour!afab!reader

GENRE: frenemies to lovers, he fell first but she fell harder, forced proximity, romance, fluff, angst, secret pining, slow burn

WARNING(S): drinking, parties, profanities, slight violence, mentions/hints of cheating, miscommunication, a pinch of suggestiveness

WC: 21k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: hope you all enjoy this one! i personally loved writing it and it might've taken a while but i'm glad it's here! please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

masterlist | © jaylver 2024 all rights reserved

‘Hate’ might be a strong word, one that was cruel and brutal that your mother taught you to not use. But, how could you not when you had a constant reminder plastered in front of your face. There were no other feelings for him except hatred that measured the exact way you felt for the man who constantly haunted you. Worst of all, you’re letting a man with a typical frat name do that to you.

Growing up, you always had a man devoted to you. Cute, wasn’t it? It was particularly fun when he was specifically committed to praying for your downfall at any given chance.

Park Jong Seong.

That name and the person who carried it was the literal devil reincarnate. Well, at least to you. To most, Jay was a sweetheart, the golden boy of the area who charmed the hearts of women of all ages. Thanks to his pretty face and sweet smile, he easily swooned people and that included your family. Not you though, it could never be you. That facade would never, ever fool you.

He has been your neighbour ever since you were a kid. The boy who moved in next door that was forced to play with you from time to time. Play dates with him weren't your favourite, and neither was it for him. To say you two got off on the wrong foot was an understatement. 

What could possibly make you hate him for all these years? Where to start? 

He was mildly tolerable as a kid, but once he grew into a teen, God, you swore you hated teen boys and you stood by it. When Jay knew that he was a hot, smart and attractive boy, he managed to utilise it, and what better way to do so than torturing you with it. 

Out of the many things he could pull, he decided to date your then best friend, believe it or not. The worst part of all, he ruined the friendship between you and your ex best friend because of it. What happened to bros before hoes? Anyway, you were determined to not be stepped over by the idiotic Park Jong Seong, so you went and dated his best friend too. Sweet, sweet revenge. Best of yet, there was nothing he could do but silently curse you behind your back.

Or that other time he crashed your beach date and he cockblocked your chance with his handsome best friend, Sunghoon. Asshole. Oh yeah! Let's not forget the fact that he would tease and laugh at you for coming in second every semester. Golden boy Jay and his first place was the death of you. 

All in all, you didn’t have a great time with him and you surely weren’t anywhere close to being friends with him. Absolutely not. 

The only good part was that once you finished high school and moved out of your town, you didn’t see him anymore, only hearing brief mentions from your mutual friends who you still kept in contact with. There was one time where you saw a picture of him posted on Instagram and you’ve never gone back since, because no matter how you hate to admit it, he was a guilty pleasure. 

You thought your supposedly everlasting peace wouldn’t be affected, yet, you were wrong. 

The news of your cousin, Chaewon, getting engaged had taken you by complete surprise. It was no secret that she was in a long term relationship with one of your good friends, Heeseung, but the whole engagement came out of the blue and it had taken everyone aback, including her. It might’ve been unexpected but you knew it would come soon.  

Of course Chaewon was overjoyed. She was already pulling you with her to plan the wedding and even picking out little things. 

“You’re going to be my maid of honour,” she said so nonchalantly that she didn’t even notice you freezing in shock next to her.

“Really?”

She turned to face you, a smile wide enough to split her jaw open. Was this an effect of getting married? “Yes, Y/N, I’m sure. You’re like a sister to me all my life, there’s no one else I’d like to be my maid of honour other than you,”

The conversation definitely ended with tears streaming down each of your face, sobbing sappily as you spoke about your childhood memories together. But before any wedding plans ensued, it absolutely wouldn’t be them to not throw an engagement party first, so of course, they did exactly that.

The evening at their place started off well. They had a catering service and the house was decorated for the occasion. There was already a small crowd of friends and family, some of which you recognized. It didn’t take you long to realise that you had to buckle in for the night after you saw Heeseung’s friends walk through the door, ones that you knew and particularly the guy you’ve dreaded.

“You good?” Yujin, your long time best friend who was practically family, walked up to you, snapping her fingers to get you out of your trance. 

“Oh—I’m alright, I think?”

“You think?” she sighed, following your sight that was trained on a group of guys. “Is it because of Jay?”

You snapped your head to look at her, baffled at the mention of his name. “No,”

“I’m taking that as a ‘yes’,” she hummed, joining you in leaning her back against the wall in the corner of the room. “You haven’t seen him in years,”

“And neither has he,” you noted thoughtfully, unaware how he looked like currently. The pictures online weren't enough, you needed to see him physically. Well, he was there, but you weren’t exactly thrilled to see him either. 

“You reckon there’s still something going between you guys after all these years?”

You tilted your head to the side, puzzled. “What ‘something’ is there even between us?”

“The whole ‘I hate you, you hate me’ thing! Like, come on, just admit you want to fuck each other—”

“Shut up, oh my God!” You exclaimed, though laughing out of disbelief. You? Fucking Jay? You just bursted out laughing. “There's no way that's happening,”

She eyed you doubtfully, shrugging. “Who knows?”

“What I know is that's so not happening,”

“I'm not saying anything,”

“Hey!”

“Ladies,”

That voice. 

You slowly turned your gaze away from Yujin, clearly panicked and dreadful. The one person you wished to meet last for the night happened to be there in flesh, in front of you. The epitome of your nightmare, the devil in disguise, he was actually there. Plus, since when was he ever so initiative in finding you?

“Jay,” Yujin acknowledged the moment you stood face to face with him. All you could think of in your head of how shamelessly you're checking him out.

Over the years of not seeing him, he has really changed. Toned and buffed, the button up he was wearing hugged him at the right places. His long legs complimented his tall frame, face seemingly more matured and handsome. Did law school do this to him?

“Yujin,” he replied before his gaze flickered over to yours, suddenly plastered on a cheshire grin. “Y/N,”

Rather begrudgingly and stoically, you replied. “Jay,”

Yujin glanced between you and him, taking the cue to escape the tension before it heightened. “I'll go catch up with the rest of the guys. Talk to you later!”

Great. Now you're stuck with him. Yuck.

“So, how’s life?” 

You raised a questioning brow, face scrunched up in disdain. Him, on the other hand, was nonchalant and carried himself coolly. “It’s a little out of your character to be this friendly to me,” 

“I’m trying to be civil here,” he slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans, dark hair falling over his face casually.

“Well, the last time I checked, I don’t think we’re exactly friends, aren’t we?”

“Touche,” he considered, keeping a strong eye contact with you, his smirk never faltering once. “But now that they’re both getting married, I think we have no choice but to tolerate one another to have this go successfully, eh?” 

“Whatever you say,” you mumbled half-heartedly, thinking about Chaewon and for her sake, you’d have to put up with this bastard. 

“I mean, you’re the maid of honour and I’m the best man, crazy isn’t it?”

“You’re Heeseung’s best man?”

“The one and only,” he smiled triumphantly, and you mentally knocked yourself on the head. How did you not expect this earlier? 

“Guess I really am stuck with you,” you mumbled under your breath, seeing the smirk still not wiped off Jay’s face.

“Can’t wait, angel,”

Before the conversation could go any further, the shouts of his friends from across the room snatched the attention of you two. They were calling Jay over to join them in on some drinks, signalling obviously with the bottles and cups in their hands. “I think they’re calling me over—” he turned his head away from them and back to you, eyebrows raised. “It was nice catching up. I’ll see you around,” He winked right after he finished his sentence and left, reminding you of his regular behaviour. Flirty and always an asshole. 

The exchange you had with him definitely gave you a whiplash. No way was that the same Jay who you called insufferable and annoying. Was he actually being normal for once? You believed everyone has their own character development, but to think Jay had one too was a little shocking. 

Maybe it was for the better, which meant you could finally admit he’s hot now—wait what. Forget whatever you’ve just said. What you really meant was you could talk to him like a decent being now … right?

“That was a short talk,” Yujin sidled up next to you almost on cue. 

“I don’t think there’s much to really talk about anyway,” you accepted the cup of drink from her.

“Oh, don’t be too harsh! He’s trying, so maybe you should too,” 

You gave it a thought, sipping wordlessly. “Hm, maybe I should,”

“Definitely,” she nodded in heavy agreement, eyes straying to the door and her face contorted in horror. You noticed it at once, wanting to see what she had seen too but before you could do so, she spun you around and away from facing the door.

“What?” you demanded, unnerved by the sudden twist in the air. “Hey, you’re scaring me—”

“Just don’t turn around…please,”

“Why?” you pressed on, impatience and curiosity creeping up on you. “Is there something wrong?”

She made a face. “Well—kinda—wait—”

You spun around and ignored Yujin’s flailing arms. At first, you didn’t understand what the problem was and why Yujin was making such a big deal, but once you saw what she was trying so hard to stop you from seeing, you finally understood.

Choi Yeonjun. 

He was standing there in all his glory, having the guts to even show up. You couldn’t even blame Heeseung for making him a part of the guest list though, they’ve been friends before you and Yeonjun dated. Key word, ‘dated’, past tense. 

Horrible breakup that ended in tears and hatred was the only thing that reminded you of him. Five years down the drain, you wished you were kidding. Everyone had thought he would be your forever, but you suppose that jinxed it and made him leave you with no explanation. 

Overnight, he had packed his bags without leaving a trace behind and next thing you knew, he was off boarding a plane to somewhere far away from you. The most ridiculous part of everything was the fact that you only found his whereabouts days after through a friend. That definitely has you crying out of pity for yourself. 

Did he cheat? Did he hate you? Was he hiding something? Questions and questions piled upon another but no answer was given.

It took years after for you to fully move on, though having zero closure, but what could you do anyway? That didn’t excuse your spite and grudge that was still present. 

“Oh,” 

The air had still, everyone that knew the history behind you two was shifting around awkwardly, eyeing between you and your ex. Kill you now.

“Want more whiskey?”

“No, if I get any more drunk, I’ll start a fight,” you shook your head, pursing your lips, turning away from the sight of Yeonjun. “I need some fresh air,”

You didn’t give any more time for Yujin to respond, mainly because you genuinely felt yourself almost doubling over and crying, but you didn’t, obviously. 

Storming out into the backyard, you hoped nobody saw you on the edge of panic. You weren’t as prepared as you thought you would be to see your ex again. Yes, you figured he was coming, but to see him in front of your eyes, that was a whole different baggage of emotions and thoughts.

You heard the glass door sliding, quiet footsteps approaching, it got you out of your trance and turning to see who it was.

“Y/N?”

By now, you had a feeling you’ve turned as pale as a blank sheet of paper. The horror you were experiencing at the moment was indescribable. What and why was your ex doing there?

Seeing him up close, looking very real and not a ghost, completely frightened you. He was glowing, in a way that one has after being gone for a long while, like a glow up that many had away from home. Right, he was different, someone you’ve deemed unfamiliar. All of that only made you want to throw up in anxiety. 

You were silent, mostly in shock and not knowing what to say, which only made Yeonjun widen his eyes in alarm.

“C–can you say something?”

No, you couldn’t. In fact, if you were to speak right now, curses and horrible things and probably overdue screaming with some crying would pour out. So, nope, you’re going to be silent.

“I’m sorry,”

He’s sorry? Wow.

You could only shake your head, opening your mouth to breathe deep so that you wouldn’t combust at any second. Holding up your hand, you wished he took this as a sign to stop and leave, but you guessed that he couldn’t take social cues in the end.

“Just say something, please—”

“Hey dude! Heeseung’s searching for you,”

Here comes another one of your nightmares, but surprisingly, you were actually glad to see him now. 

Jay had stepped out from the inside, hand still holding the sliding glass door, a nonchalant expression on his face as he scanned the scene before him. You, looking sick as ever; Yeonjun equally looking not good. 

“Really? Alright then,” Yeonjun croaked out, wiping his hands on the sides of his pants. Sparing you one last look, he walked towards Jay, nodding at him before disappearing past the threshold of the sliding glass doors.

You let out a breath of relief once your ex was out of sight, and hopefully, out of mind. 

“You good?”

You looked at Jay, forgetting his existence for a minute. “Not really,”

“He’s a douche, isn’t he?”

“You’ve probably heard what happened already, didn’t you?”

“I did—”

“Well, I’m embarrassed,” you rubbed the sides of your forehead, chewing at the insides of your mouth. Can you be swallowed up now?

“As much as I want to say something stupid right now, I can’t bring myself to, because it’s true that you didn’t deserve it,” he sighed, taking a seat on one of the lounging couches.  

Okay … maybe he was an actual changed man. Shocking.

You approached him slowly, taking a seat opposite him. From that angle, you could clearly see him and how he has changed. He got taller, leaner and definitely bulkier, it was a subtle but noticeable change. Other than that, his fashion sense improved, face maturing into a more sharper look, but he still carried a certain gentleness.

“Thanks,” you muttered, kicking your feet to distract yourself from his burning gaze. “I thought you’ll laugh at me or something,”

“Okay, I’m not that cruel,” 

“Really? Coming from the same guy that dated my best friend, who became my ex best friend,”

“You dated my best friend too! And you tried getting with Sunghoon,” he grumbled, murmuring the last part, knowing damn well Sunghoon was inside laughing over a fresh glass of wine.

“I would still get with him,”

“No you won’t,”

What was his problem?

“Why not? He’s hot,”

“I’m hot,” he blurted out, puffing his chest out in confidence. This was the same Jay that you’ve remembered. “And I don’t see you lusting over me,”

“First, not ‘lusting’,” you scrunch your face in distaste of the word, “second, you’re … you? Third, what’s so wrong with Sunghoon?”

“Well—he—he’s Sunghoon, and he’s a known player,” Jay pursed his lips, crossing his arms. “I don’t think you two will get along,”

“We’re friends,”

“As a couple,”

“How about as fuck buddies?”

“Nope,” 

“You’re weird,”

“Whatever,”

You broke out into a smile, shaking your head at his antics. If you told the younger you that you were conversing with Jay without ripping each others’ throats, you would’ve laughed. You didn’t expect yourself to laugh because of him, most of the time you were laughing at him. 

“Should we head in? They’re announcing it soon and doing their speech,” you suggested, looking over his shoulders.

“You’re right,”

“You’re agreeing with me? Aw,” 

“Shut up,” he stood up, but he didn’t leave, instead he waited for you to stand up as well before walking in together. “I guess the next time we’ll see each other is during the fitting,”

“I guess it is,” you nodded slowly, trying to remember the date of the fitting that your cousin had once mentioned. “Unless you’re intending that we’ll meet elsewhere?”

“You wish,” he said snarkily. “You’ll miss me, won’t you?”

“You wish,” you repeated his exact words in mockery, smiling sarcastically at him.

He shrugged, a lazy smirk forming on his lips. “Maybe I do.” 

The words didn’t fully process in your mind, but he was already off to join his friends before you realised. Did he just—what? You were going insane. 

Maybe the hatred from over the years was slowly but surely dissipating because how and why in hell was Park Jong Seong tolerable? How did you find yourself not exploding in his presence? Character growth was what you two needed after all.

Probably also a secret hook up.

Just as you’ve thought, the next time you saw Jay was exactly as he had said: the fitting. 

Except, you were screaming internally. Why? You were literally stuck with Jay and the two lovebirds. You didn’t expect receiving the news of doing the fitting with them and Jay alone, thinking it was a group thing with the other bridesmaids. No, in fact, they wanted it to be a maid of honour and best man special. Just great.

The boutique was fancy, like very. Serving champagne and having two floors with marble tiles, the inside already smelt more expensive than it let alone looked. Heeseung must’ve been doing well after taking over his father’s place in the company.

“Alright, first, I’ve already narrowed down some looks, but I have a specific dress that I chose which I think it’ll look really good on you,” Chaewon practically squealed, grabbing your shoulders with pure excitement in her eyes. You were about to be her barbie doll for hours. “I think it’ll match Jay’s suit too,”

She’s making you and Jay match?

“Nice, haha …” you gulped, masking your negative approach, not wanting to irk Chaewon when this meant a lot to her. But matching with Jay? Him? You knew you were being overdramatic but how could you not when it was him. However, you understood Chaewon’s need for matching aesthetics.

“I’m sure it’s going to look amazing on you!” she said excitedly. “The changing rooms are upstairs, you can go with Jay first since Heeseung and I need to settle something, so wait for us, okay?”

“Sure,” you nodded rather stiffly, leaving Chaewon to join the staff and Jay’s side. 

“It’s you again,” he greeted you, eyeing you with an odd look on his face. How friendly. 

“Yes, it’s me again, and I should be the one saying the same to you. Unfortunately, you’ll also be seeing me for months,” you hissed, following the staff up the fancy marble steps, letting Jay walk closely next to you. “Even in Greece,” you grumbled under your breath.

Mykonos, Greece. The destination you’ll be in half a year’s time, enjoying the wedding and basking in the prettiness of the island. It wasn’t entirely surprising for Chaewon to choose Greece as her wedding destination, it has been in her mood board for almost years. Although it might’ve been expensive, you were just glad it wasn’t in some shady area downtown. 

“Isn’t it amazing to be in the same space as I am?” 

“Please, you’re hugely insufferable,” you put your hand out, pulling a disgusted expression as a reaction.

“I just have personality! You won’t get it,” he slyly took a dig at you, letting you digest it and realised what he meant but by the time you wanted to reply, the staff stopped and turned around.

“The changing rooms there—” she pointed over to a large area with cushioned chairs and mirrors, two separate curtains for each changing place, a cover bag hung on the walls of each changing area, “already have your outfits which the couple hand picked. So please, help yourself out. There’ll be staffs waiting outside if you need any help,”

You and Jay casted a brief glance at each other before nodding, awkwardly shuffling towards the changing area. The last sight before drawing your curtains closed was Jay’s back, broad and exposed since he momentarily forgot to close his. Shutting out the image of that was hard as you got the dress on, not even able to pay attention until you saw your reflection in the mirror. It was a simple silky pink dress, one that was in Chaewon’s favourite shade and the specific cut that hugged your body tightly. 

The voices of Heeseung and Chaewon were heard from the other side of the curtains, which meant they were finally here to make their judgements. You revealed yourself, stepping out with an awkward laugh. “What do you think?”

“It’s so pretty,” Chaewon gushed, spinning you around, scanning your body. “You’re so pretty, Y/ N.”

“I’ll blush,”

Chaewon rolled her eyes at your sarcasm. “Hey, where’s Jay? We need to see the matching outfit!”

“Here,” he pulled the curtains open a little too dramatically at the mention of his name, smoothing the fronts of his suit. He was dressed in a dark coloured suit, a silk pink tie paired to match you.

“You guys are just too cute together,” Chaewon pushed you gently closer to Jay, staring between you and him in awe. Unbeknownst to her, you and Jay were groaning internally, glaring daggers at each other. 

Your cousin who didn’t go to the same high school as you did with Jay was absolutely oblivious to the history you two have, and you were sure Heeseung didn’t tell her either. That sick bastard probably enjoyed you and Jay suffering together, didn’t he?

“It’s so perfect,” Chaewon sighed dreamily, suddenly emotional as she leaned on her fiance. “I love you guys,”

“Babe, it’s too early to be this emotional,” Heeseung gave her shoulder a soft squeeze. 

“You’re right, oh my God,” she laughed, followed by you and the others’ chuckles. “Now that I know you two look absolutely perfect, Heeseung and I are going to confirm it with the staffs and settle some little things, so just take your time and change, then we’ll go for lunch,”

“Sounds good,” you took a step away from Jay, rubbing your cousin’s back in assurance. 

“Don’t do anything weird,” Chaewon whispered into your ear, eyeing Jay as she spoke, hoping you got the hint she was trying to convey. 

No way.

“We’re not fucking, okay?”

“Are you sure? I’m sensing something there,”

“There’s nothing to sense because we’re not into each other. At all,”

“Sure, whatever you say,” she winked at you, patting your butt with a sneaky smirk, then left with Heeseung, which meant you’re with Jay again.

“This tie is pretty cute, isn’t it?” he suddenly spoke out of nowhere, toying his tie with a slight pout. 

“That’s really random, but yes,”

He glanced up from his tie, meeting your gaze with an unreadable expression. His eyes were narrowed, travelling up and down your body, jaws clenched. It seemed that thoughts were conquering his mind, and you, on the other hand, read him like a book. He’s a man after all. They’re all alike. 

A small conniving smirk on your face as you approached him, never breaking eye contact once. Hands behind your back, chest pushed out, revealing your cleavage a little more, all while you bat your eyelashes innocently at him, only a few inches in between.  

“How do I look?”

There was an audible gulp from him. It was a blessing that there weren't any staff around, or else you would have suffered from embarrassment that nothing could get you back from. 

“Nice,” Jay practically gritted out, heaving a big breath in.

“Just … nice?”

His eyes flitted between you and your chest, gaze flickering and composure weakening. “Fantastic, pretty, gorgeous,”

He was so easy to read and play with. 

You stepped away from him, laughing under your breath, a gleeful grin that irked Jay, who knew it was just one of your schemes. But it was too late to come back from, how could he when you looked like that? As much as he hated it, you were stunning, and he was aware of every part of it.

“Thank you,” you smiled evilly, only getting a look of annoyance and an irritated eye roll from Jay. 

Turning around, you walked towards the changing area, hearing footsteps behind you, which also meant Jay was following you. Before you disappeared behind the curtains, you wanted to set his buttons off just one more time. 

“Are my nipples showing?” 

Jay did not expect that. However, this time he was smarter and sharper, so no, he wasn’t about to fall for one of your tricks. Keeping his stare straight ahead at you, he shrugged.

“Are you somehow forgetting that I happen to be—I don’t know—a man?”

“What’s wrong with nipples?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged, an irritated look on his face. “I'm just not falling into the grave you've dug. Nice try, L/N,” he said with a finality before drawing his own curtains shut. 

The sassy men apocalypse was never ending.

The rest of the day was practically spent with the couple, from lunch to dinner, your legs were dying from walking too much. Adding on the fact that you and Jay were stuck as fourth wheelers too. At the end, Heeseung and Chaewon entrusted Jay to drop you off at your apartment, which he surprisingly didn't complain about and you also got the chance to sit in his Mercedes  for the first time.

“You didn't talk about what you're doing now, so what are you doing?” It was most likely the awkward tension that forced you to speak up, but you didn't regret it either, wanting to know more about him. Now, that was development.

Jay glanced at you for a brief second, as if in disbelief that you were the one initiating a peaceful conversation. “I opened a law firm quite recently, that's why I'm back in town. I partnered with Sunghoon,”

“Sunghoon?”

“Yeah, Sunghoon,” he repeated his best friend's name again, a hint of annoyance laced in his voice. “You'll get to see me more often now,”

“And you'll equally see me just as often too,” you bit back. “Maybe I'll even turn up at your office and give Sunghoon a visit,”

“You wound me,” Jay pouted, feigning cries that sounded like choked laughter instead. “I'm here in front of you and you're talking about another man? Wow,”

“You're not just another man like him,” you said, unaware of the meaning behind your words and confusedly seeing the small smirk forming on Jay's lips. 

“Then what about you? What have you been up to?” He strayed back to the subject, waiting for your response.

“Nothing much, I guess? Still the same ol' office work. My boss recently proposed sending me off on a trip to Paris as a way to reward me for being his PA for years,”

“Did you accept it?”

“Does it look like I did?”

“Touche,” he hummed, turning a corner and the familiar roads leading to your apartment came into view. “What made you reject it?”

“Well, everything that's happening right now, I guess? I want to be present. Plus, he told me the offer is still up anytime,”

“Your boss is amazing,” he said in awe. “Maybe I'll go work for him instead,”

“And cause me to deal with you? No thanks,”

“Oh, you love me, admit it,”

“Yeah, sure, I want you and love you—gross—no way,” you laughed, pushing away Jay's body that was leaning towards your side, his eyebrows raised and gaze flickering between you and the road.

Soon, the car ride came to an end once Jay stopped at the front of your apartment complex. It was already dark outside and Jay somehow felt your uneasiness as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Do you need me to walk you up?”

“Oh—it's fine, I don't want to bother you further,” you genuinely didn't, internally surprised at his straightforwardness. “Or, do you want to come up?”

“No, no, it's okay,” Jay's eyes widened for a fraction, just as surprised as you were. “You should rest, it's been a long day,”

“Right,” you said slowly, not knowing what else to say or do. “Thanks for the ride, I really appreciate it,”

“It's nothing, don't worry,” Suddenly, it felt like high school all over again. The awkwardness and stiffness, you didn't miss those. However, this time around, tolerance was present and you found yourself gradually enjoying his presence. Shocking.

“Night, Jay,”

He smiled, gentleness that you only see from time to time was in his gaze. “Night, Y/N. I'll see you again soon.”

“Look, you need this time off! It's a Saturday night, Y/N,”

“I should be in bed,”

“You should be getting laid,” 

Taking up your friends' invite to the club was probably not the smartest move you've made. Having not been out with them in a long time, you forgot the fact that they were crazy party people. The last time you were out with them was after your break up, and it only ended with you drunk out of your mind, almost turning up at Yeonjun’s house in spite. Now, you were in for a long night.

“Last thing I need is getting laid,”

Your girlfriends, Yujin, Wonyoung and Karina stared at you with doubt in their faces. 

“You need to get that pent up stress fucked out of your system,” Karina teased, nudging your side. 

The other two nodded in shared agreement, obviously entertained. 

“Maybe, maybe not,” you said half-heartedly, swirling your drink with a distracted mind.

Your time in the club wasn't the most eventful. Men trying to flirt with you that you ended up shutting down, some of which took it like a champ while there were ones that acted as if you’ve ended their entire bloodline. Then there were your friends. Karina was busy cosying up to the bartender, the other two wandered off into the crowded dance floor already, so you were alone at the side watching Karina use her usual flirting tricks.

“Didn’t expect seeing you here,”

Turning around on your barstool, you were met with a face that changed a lot since high school.

“Sunghoon?”

The times you’ve spent joking about him to tease Jay somehow manifested him to show up in front of you. You didn’t get the chance to speak to him at the engagement party, unaware that he had changed in some ways physically. He was just as pretty as he was, except more mature and hair dyed in a different shade. Not to mention the way he carried himself with confidence and grace, it definitely had you feeling things you shouldn’t be having, especially when he was standing ever so close to you.

“You’re here alone?”

“Oh, no, I’m here with my friends,” you nodded over at Karina, who was still obviously making a move on the bartender from her touches on his shoulder. “You?”

“I’m here with mine too, you know, the usual bunch,”

“So, Jay, Heeseung and Jake are all here?”

“Heeseung’s staying at home, I suppose getting engaged changed that man in some ways,” Sunghoon snickered, but you only smiled, understanding Chaewon’s reasons for being protective of Heeseung at times. “Do you want to join us?”

“It’s fine, thank you. I don’t want to trouble you guys, I still am on duty to look out for my girls,” you sighed a little, hoping the other two weren't off with some men they just met. “I can buy you a drink though,”

“Nah, it’s no need,” he politely declined, hands slipped into his pants pocket. “I feel like I should be the one offering that,”

You just chuckled, eyes flickering over his shoulder, not expecting them to land on him. Park Jong Seong. He was looking back at you, gaze sharp and eyes narrowed, a frown etched on that pretty face. 

What you hadn’t failed to notice was the girl next to him. She was talking feverishly, trying to grab his slipping attention as he trained his stare on you. Just like Sunghoon, both him and the girl’s voices only faded into the background for you and Jay individually, unable to turn your attention away from each other. 

“You okay?” Sunghoon leaned in closer, waving a hand in front of your face, snapping you back to reality. 

“Huh—I’m fine,” you chuckled nervously, occasionally flickering to Jay’s direction, realising he was no longer staring unabashedly at you, which also made you realise: you were actually craving for his attention? What? 

“Probably a little woozy, is all,” you added, smiling slightly. 

Sunghoon reciprocated your smile, nodding a little. “Take care, then, Y/N. Don’t drink too much and call a cab. Gotta go first, I’ll see you around,” 

“See you,”

Once Sunghoon was gone from your side, you finally had the chance to have some space to breathe and take in whatever that was earlier on. You couldn’t ignore it, how could you? Not when he was staring daggers at the back of his best friend’s head and sending you signals through his eyes, all with a girl next to him, unbelievable. 

His constant appearance was unhealthy for you, and after what he pulled, he was the only thing you could think of, slick bastard. You made sure Chaewon was safe and well before making a bee-line towards the restrooms, having to squeeze through crowds and pass by couples making out, you were about to turn a corner when you felt a hand tugging your wrist. 

One pull was enough for you to stumble over your feet and stumble into someone’s chest, specifically the person who had their hand on you. It was predictable, way too predictable that it was cliche at this point.

“Jay?”

“Oh—Y/N,” 

Why was he acting dumb?

Your eyebrows were raised in question, face pulled into an expression that was screaming ‘what the fuck’, but internally, being this close to him, wasn’t too bad of an idea. You were a hypocrite, and maybe a whore too.

“I saw you just now and I thought I wanted to say hi, you know?” 

“Really?” you stepped back a little, because the closer you were to him, the more insane you were becoming.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, alcohol evident in his breath. “Also saw you with Sunghoon,”

You rolled your eyes, a smirk itching on the way to the corner of your lips. “He was nice,”

“‘Nice’,” he echoed thoughtfully, tongue sweeping over his lips, grabbing your attention almost at once. 

“Are you drunk?”

He shrugged. “Maybe,”

“I’m taking that as a ‘yes’,” you sighed, glancing down at his relentless hold, but not complaining either. If he was drunk, surely he was truthful too, right? “Were you jealous?”

He was silent for a second, as if trying to digest your question thoroughly. Without any ounce of hesitation, he answered with his full chest. “Yeah,”

Jay was jealous? Was he just playing with you?

“Don’t like seeing you with Hoon,” he mumbled, leaning more of his weight onto you and you had to press your back against the wall for more support. This position had you dying on the inside. He was close, breath fanning onto your face, his expensive cologne entering your senses. “Want you all to myself,”

“Thought you hated me,” you swallowed down a gasp, whispering out quietly.

“‘Hate’? Maybe mildly intolerable but you’re … you. How could I hate you?”

That was something new. 

You could only blink. He didn’t hate you as much as you had expected? Was there something more to this? Was Jay hiding untold truths that he kept secret? Before you could uncover more, Jake came tumbling around and ripped Jay off you, seemingly much sober than Jay was, a little pissed off as well.

“Motherfucker, you’re here—” he turned, expecting to see some random chick he was huddling up onto, but realisation dawned on his face when it turned out to be you, “—Y/N? Wait—Jay—you—I—” he was lost for words, catching a pair of sworn enemies together almost too scandalously. Oh, for sure he was going to blabber this out. 

“You’re taking him away, right?” you ignored his shock, hoisting Jay into Jake’s arms, prying his hold away, losing the overall warmth emitted from him. 

“Yeah,” he said, uneasy and still mildly surprised. 

“He’s all yours, buddy. He’s a little out of it but still functioning. So, I’ll get going first!”

“How did this—oh—bye!” he couldn’t even finish asking his question when you dashed away into the crowd, leaving a dazed Jay hanging on the side of Jake, where Jake wished Sunghoon hadn’t gone off with some girl now that he needed help.

Now, you need to be drunk and crash into the abyss before you wake up in the morning to overthink about what Jay said. 

Overthinking was definitely what you did the next day. 

Hangover headache and being haunted by Jay's words was not a great combination for your head and you. Maybe you were semi-drunk when you heard it, but what he said did affect you, and in that moment, you wanted to bring him home.

As much as you wanted to avoid him, his presence was simply inevitable. 

Chaewon had sent out an invite to lunch with the bridesmaids, groomsmen and some selected close friends, you and him were involved obviously. You were grateful that Chaewon was making an effort to plan activities together for the months leading up to her wedding, but God, being with Jay was intoxicating.

You were supposed to dislike him. What happened to all the years of hatred and rivalry? Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to feel that way anymore. He had invoked something else in you that you were afraid to admit. A feeling that you were scared to have after your last relationship.

"Hey," you heard someone calling out to you while you were already seated at the long table. You glanced up from your phone to see Jay sliding in from your right onto the seat next to you. 

"Hi," you greeted back, noticing how much more sober and awake he was this time. "Doing okay? Surprised that you didn't fall into a ditch or something,"

"Haha," He let out sarcastically, straightening out his jacket, eyebrows scrunched. "A little tired, that's all,"

The way Jay didn't bring up whatever happened between you and him was weird. Did he remember what he said? Was he pretending to not know?

"You got home late yesterday? Do you remember seeing me at the club?"

He was taking some time to process and rethink back to his night out, then he shrugged. "I think I did? It was kinda hazy. I remembered Jake slapping me awake in my apartment though," he laughed, and you did too, more forcefully, trying to hide the miniscule disappointment that was bubbling internally. "You got home safe, right?" 

"I did," you could still somehow remember Yujin's body falling on top of yours in the taxi, being the only one who's not fully drunk, you cursed your high tolerance.

You were about to reach for your glass when you felt your phone buzz, the screen lighting up just in time to see Yujin's message.

yujin: head's up, asshole's coming

Of course he was. You were glad Heeseung didn't include him in his groomsmen roster considering they were close, but to have his presence around was simply suffocating.

"I'm so fucked,"

"Why?" 

You looked around, noticing familiar faces joining the table. Your friends had arrived too, but they placed their belongings on the seat beside you and left once they saw you with Jay. Whether it was on purpose or not, you didn't know.

"Yeonjun,"

Jay's mouth formed an 'O', nodding slowly. "Why did Heeseung invite him anyway? Me and the guys don't really know him,"

"But Heeseung does. That's how Chaewon and him met. It was through me and Yeonjun," you sighed, shrugging. "What can I do? There's nothing much for me to say or do,"

"You can show him,"

"Show him what?"

"That you're happier,"

"Well, I am," you threw your hands up. "I think?"

"You think?" He chuckled, shaking his head a little. "Just ignore him. You're over him now anyway, don't give him the attention that he wants,"

"You're right, thank you,"

"It's nothing," he smiled, one that was gentle and understanding, a new kind that you've just discovered.

Soon, everyone had arrived, Yeonjun included, who made sure to sit further away from you, and before the lunch started, there was the obligatory speech from the bride and groom to be. 

In the meantime, the table was much smaller than anticipated, everyone was shuffling around, trying to get closer, moving their chair to be closer. So, there you were, sitting closer to Jay with barely some space in between.

You were ignoring him at all cost, especially when he accidentally brushed against you, leaned in too close trying to grab a plate, or when he even poured your drink for you. Nope, you were not falling for him or his tricks.

"Can you get me that bowl over there?" Suddenly, he was whispering by your ear, shooting you his best attempt of pleading eyes as you rolled yours.

"What if I said no?" You teased, hand already reaching for the bowl unknowingly.

"You won't," 

"I hate you," you hated the effect he had on you, or the fact that he was so smug and confident. Gosh, you hate him to the point where it somehow made him tolerable.

"That's kinda hot—thanks," he winked at you as he took the bowl from your hold, unaware of your flushed cheeks. Why were you letting him cause such a reaction from you?

You coughed a little, shaking off his words and pressing your lips into a thin line. "I heard Yunjin's coming to the wedding too," you brought up a mutual friend in order to change the subject away from the current situation, though it was just you that suffered whereas Jay was oblivious.

"Yunjin? That girl from high school?" Jay's eyebrows were furrowed thoughtfully at the mention of the girl. 

"I hope you have the right one in mind, but yes. She's a good friend of Chaewon and I. I thought you knew her?"

"I do, I think? I do remember having a teeny crush on her though," Jay shrugged, stabbing his fork into the salad and bringing it to his mouth. 

You pursed your lips, not knowing what to do with that information. "I kinda get it, she's an all american beauty. Are you going to hit her up at the wedding?"

"I don't know. Haven't seen her in years either. Why? You're trying to set me up? Get me out of your hair?" Jay leaned his body close, his lips curled into a sly smirk that you wished to wipe off his face.

"Just asking! I mean, she's a total catch,"

Jay shook his head softly, returning his attention back to his food with a small smile. "Why would I care about her when I already have a total catch by my side?"

Your head snapped to look at him, but was only met with a completely nonchalant Jay who continued with his meal. Did he seriously say that? And you did hear him correctly enough to know that you weren't mistaken. Wow, the man that you swore was your rival somehow became a mildly tolerable man that flirts with you? Someone wake you up, now!

"I wouldn't mind if you do set me up though," he whispered, earning a loud eye roll from you in return.

The lunch eventually ended with a heartful dessert and a tearful speech from the soon bride and groom. Throughout the meal, you were actively dodging Yeonjun's wishful gazes, moreover praying he would actually disappear instead. You could tell he wanted to approach you after, but for the first time, you were thankful for Jay's annoying presence popping up. 

"Your ex keeps glaring at me like I did something wrong," Jay raised his eyebrows, cocking his head at Yeonjun's direction.

"Don't blame me. I don't know what's his problem either considering he's the one who disappeared," you clicked your tongue, heaving a sigh of exasperation. "I can't believe I not only have to deal with him but also you at the wedding,"

Jay shot you a look, seemingly offended. "Okay, but at least I'm the nicer one between him and I,"

"Define 'nicer'," you started walking and he joined your side, hands shoved into his pants pockets.

"At least I didn't ghost you physically,"

"Alright, low blow. Plus, you're too much of an annoying entity to disappear anyway,"

"Ouch," he placed a hand on his face, feigning a hurt look despite cracking a laugh. "You won't be getting rid of me anytime soon,"

"How fun," you deadpanned, eliciting a small smirk from the latter. 

"Just like old times, eh?" He leaned in close to you, the scent of his cologne wafted into your senses. For a moment there, you thought you were hypnotised, until you came back to reality and gently shoved his face away.

"Hope not, don't want you cock blocking my chances with your friend again,"

It was Jay's turn to groan. "Seriously? Hoon again? Let him go,"

"I'm kidding, partially," you made a face, shrugging playfully. "You're acting like you hate the guy,"

"Whatever," he waved it off, a grumpy frown on his face that made you giggle quietly. "Your friends are waiting—" he nodded at where your friends stood, all of which were waving at you to join them, "—so I guess I'll see you around then, L/N,"

"Until then, Park."

It was unexplainable, but your goodbyes with him were always sincere despite the amount of banter and unseriousness. A part of you wished there was something more that brought you two together other than the wedding itself, but what if the wedding was your chance to create something beyond this push and pull?

You ignored your friends' watchful stares when you approached. They all knew, you knew too, that maybe there was something changing in the dynamics that you built in the past. Maybe it wasn't hate that you feel anymore. 

Who told Chaewon to let Heeseung take charge of the next activity?

Honestly, you were aware of the fact that you were simply unfit. But to combine that and having to be under the hot sun was a killer combo for you and your friends. Were you going to complain to your cousin, however? No. A happy bride-to-be was all you needed to make sure everything went well.

A very classic Heeseung thing to do was to arrange a football match that only he and his friends probably enjoyed. You tried being optimistic by treating it as a new experience only to be humbled by the scorching sun. Well, that totally burnt your expectations away. The only reassurance you had for the day was knowing your ex wasn't there. 

It was automatically split into two teams. Bridesmaids against groomsmen. You didn't know how that was fair but you didn't question it either for the sake of the spirits of a pre wedding game. 

You have never once touched a football in your life, neither did most of your friends, but the moment you met Jay's challenging gaze, you knew you had to turn into prime Messi to attempt at a win. This match was about to be a renaissance of the Ronaldo and Messi rivalry, except a more complicated and dumbed down version.

"Okay girls," you and the rest of the bridesmaids huddled together before the match started, a plan in mind that you knew could be put to play. "Here's what we can do. We might not know how to play football, but we know how to play with men's minds, right?" A hum of agreement passed through the group.

"Pretend you're injured, do whatever you can, get to their minds and distract them, then we can get past their defence easily. Look, I know what you guys can pull, so I trust you. Let's get this win!" 

Manipulation was the key to your success. 

Chaewon casted a small smirk at you, and you smiled innocently back at her before she went to where the referee stood, preparing for kick off. It was between her and Heeseung that would be the first to get possession of the ball. 

It was barely noticeable, but you caught it. Chaewon was slyly flirting with Heeseung, and by the time the whistle blew, Heeseung was a second too late and Chaewon got possession of the ball.

You started running, not knowing where your feet were bringing you, but all you did was train your focus on the ball. It was hard not to panic when the ball landed beneath your feet, and you suddenly grew respect for footballers. 

It didn't last long when the ball was kicked out of your possession by the one and only, Park Jong Seong. Since when was he a pro at defending?

You huffed in indignation as you watched him sprint away with the ball. Oh you were so going to get it back.

You dashed towards him until you reached his side. What was football without playing a little dirty? So, you used your shoulder to bump into him, causing him to lose his footing and giving you an opportunity to win it back and passing it to Yujin. 

"Wow, L/N," Jay exclaimed, giving you a look of either admiration or annoyance. "Who knew you could be this … rough?"

"Shut it, Park," 

He let out a humorous laugh before running off to join the rest of the action. You were clearly dumbfounded but you regained your composure not long after. 

The bridesmaids were getting closer to the groomsmen's goalpost and in a blink of an eye, Yujin made a swift kick to the ball and it hit the back of the net, scoring the bridesmaid team their first goal. Maybe you do get footballers a little more now that you were screaming and joining the girls for a huddle, jumping around like you've already won the entirety of the match.

"Alright, we just need to last another 50 minutes," Yujin quickly chimed in once every one of you calmed down from the high.

Her reminder did eventually bring you back to reality. 

The fifteen minute half time break wasn't much of a help either. By the time you were done catching your breath, the whistle blew and the second half commenced. There wasn't much action at the start considering everyone was getting tired, but when you noticed the groomsmen were picking up and attacking your side of the defence, you knew you had to step up your game.

You realised Jay was the one with the ball, making his way towards the goalpost, and crazily, your first instinct was to attempt a tackle on him. Right, a man who stood at five foot ten was going to be easily tackled by you. Seeing as he didn't budge, you did the second most crazy thing you thought of. You yanked onto him. 

Boy, did that work, maybe a little too well. 

He lost his footing, football rolling to God knows where, falling back in slow motion as he grabbed your arm like it was an opportunity for you to go down with him too. Everything happened at almost the slowest speed possible, your eyes widened, never leaving his panicked gaze as you fell face first onto him. 

Thankfully, you landed on his chest, not anywhere else. The accident itself went unnoticed by everyone else as the groomsmen scored their first goal, too busy basking in the glory to figure out one of them was on the ground, the maid of honour on top of him.

You didn't think it was humanly possible at all. To be on top of him, your chest pressing against his firm, hard—shut up—you meant his much firmer chest, hands grabbing onto his wide shoulders. There was only a minimal distance between your face and his. You could almost count the freckles on his cheeks or feel his breath on your face. Neither of you moved.

"I see you really like it rough, don't you?" Jay was the first to speak up, a smirk creeping up on his sweat stained face.

You blinked, and soon registered everything happening around you. The momentary brain fog wore off and you pushed yourself off of him, breathing deeply and heart beating quickly. Why was your heart beating this fast for him? Was it his eyes that caused your heart to skip a beat? Or was it his smile lines that render you speechless?

You didn't dare to look at him, sitting there rather quietly as you heard him grunt, hoisting himself up into a sitting position. You felt him glancing at you, but you remained passive.

"Is this your first time being on top of a man?"

That was enough to get you to look at him. "What?"

"Nevermind," he mumbled, dusting grass off his front. "Are you okay?"

"Shouldn't I ask you that instead?"

"Oh yeah, considering how you pulled onto me then proceeded to use me as a landing cushion," Jay grumbled, mostly lightheartedly, but you couldn't help feeling guilty.

"Sorry," you winced.

"It's fine. I'm not seriously injured either. You're lucky you're cute,"

"What—"

"Woah, you guys didn't get into a brawl, did you?" Heeseung rushed over just in time to cut your reaction off. You were in a state of mild shock, questioning if your ears had heard that right.

The rest of the game progressed with nothing much and ended in a draw. You ignored the quiet teasings from the other bridesmaids, trying your best to seem casual but it failed the moment Jay approached you.

"Good game," he handed you a bottle of cold water, to which you accepted gladly, secretly surprised at his assertiveness.

"Even after I throttled you?"

He let out a laugh, clearly amused and shaking his head. "Seems like old habits between us never died, huh? Always so competitive,"

"Same goes to you, Park, almost lost an ankle out there,"

"But at least you got to fall onto me, right?"

You scoffed, feeling heat creeping up the back of your neck. "Don't flatter yourself, it was an accident,"

"Mhm," he hummed, the playful smile still present and irking you, but a part of you was thinking how cute he looked. It didn't help that his shirt was stuck against his skin because of the sweat and you could see a faint outline of his abs and muscles. You were just a girl after all. "Didn't hear you complaining when it happened,"

"Okay—"

"Are we the lovebirds here or is it actually you two?" Chaewon swooped in with a big knowing grin, purposely wiggling her eyebrows at you.

"We're not lovebirds," you and Jay answered in unison, then heads snapping to look at each other incredulously.

"You need to stop copying me, it's getting old," you said, causing him to drop his jaw.

"I'm so not copying—"

"Right, right," Chaewon interjected, sparing you from another banter with Jay. "Let's go wash up and grab some food after, shall we?"

"Sounds good," you wrapped your arm around your cousin, staring pointedly at Jay.

"Yeah, it'd be great,"

"Good!" Chaewon exclaimed before either of you could utter another word. "Let's go then."

The food was good, but most importantly, you were fresh and clean. The only problem was the fact you were struggling to eat from the constant eye contact with Jay. He might've been sitting a couple seats away from you, but his eyes would stray to you. 

It was already hard to swallow the day's interaction with him, but to top it off with this was simply overwhelming. What was he doing to you? 

Whatever he was doing, you didn't want him to stop.

Time was passing by too fast. Way too fast. 

Chaewon surely knew how to keep you busy. From planning to activities, you were roped into all of them till the point where you've lost your concept of time. Pottery, painting and baking classes were the most memorable activities you had with the bridesmaids, and there were regular brunches or dinners with the groomsmen. Either way, all of those were soon memories as you currently prepared for your flight to Greece. Two weeks in Greece. Who gave Chaewon the idea of having her bachelorette party there too?

You know what, at least you got the chance to sit in business class. Chaewon, being the person she was, insisted on upgrading every groomsmen and bridesmaids to business class. There were countless arguments and conflict due to the fact that she was shouldering it, but she shut it down immediately. So, what else could you and the others do but listen and accept it gracefully.

It really was a different atmosphere being in business class. You were praying you got the single seat by the window, but with a glance at your ticket, you realised your seat was in the middle where a two seats sat side by side, seperated by a divider. May you get a rich business man that would take you around Greece for free.

"You again?"

Maybe you have to scratch that idea out.

You looked up from your seat, already all settled in, just to meet Jay's unamused gaze. Him again. Chaewon and Heeseung definitely had a thing to do with this whole setup.  

"You?" You eyed him from head to toe, taking in his hoodie clad body and grey sweatpants covered lower half. "What are you doing in my presence?"

"Why, I'm sorry, my majesty. It seems like I am sitting beside you," he hoisted his backpack up to the overhead compartment, flashing a little of his tummy and that happy trail of his. What the fuck. Before he could catch you staring, you averted your attention just as he plopped down onto the seat next to you, a contented sigh leaving his lips. "Man, business class truly is different,"

"I don't know how Chaewon is affording all these," you took a look around, spotting a few familiar faces. 

"Heeseung's loaded, remember? His family, his job," Jay let out a low whistle.

"Good for Chaewon, then,"

"Good for us too."

Take off was fairly peaceful knowing Jay was too engrossed into whatever movie he had on. You, on the other hand, was trying to get some sleep before any crying babies started wrecking havoc, or worse, Jay speaking. It didn't last long when food was served and Jay decided it was time to take a break from his movie.

"What are you eating?" Jay took a peek over the divider to see which menu you selected.

"Shrimp fried rice. Since when did you become so nosy?" Ironically, you secretly took a look at his food too, some wonton noodles with side dishes. 

"Trying to be nice to my neighbour that I'm stuck with for over ten hours. I'm being the bigger person here," 

"Bigger person, yeah," you mumbled under your breath, stabbing into your shrimp fried rice. 

"You know, I would really like to recreate Mamma Mia in Greece," it seemed that sometimes a filter didn't exist for Jay.

"Which part? The musical? The baby daddy disaster? Wedding off your own daughter? Having a love life crisis at your daughter's wedding?" At least you were mildly entertained.

Jay snorted, pointing at his paused screen, and that was when you realised he was actually watching Mamma Mia. "Probably the musical part. You know, 'Dancing Queen', classic,"

"Didn't know you roll with ABBA like that," why was his attractiveness level increasing? You were seeing him in a different light day by day and you didn't know if that was a good or bad thing for you.

"What can I say? I'm an attractive man with good music taste,"

"Then why are you still single?"

"We don't talk about that."

Fair to say the rest of the journey has been peaceful. Jay might've chimed in from time to time but he actually mostly made you laugh, unaware that he was staring at your smile and the way your eyes crinkled in happiness. Sleep was definitely the star of the show. It was what you did for most of the flight until it was time for landing, groggily waking up to an already freshly awake Jay. How did he do it? You didn't know. 

"I shook you awake for 20 times and you couldn't wake up," Jay leaned over and whispered, receiving a tired eye roll from you.

"I can't believe travelling is this tiring," you sighed, straightening your back against the seat.

"The wedding week is about to be more tiring,"

"Don't remind me about it," 

You were holding onto your last piece of peace before the wedding, truly. 

From exiting the plane to going through the usual airport measures, Jay has never strayed far from you. Surprisingly, you didn't mind it either. The two of you navigated through the airport, not sparing the occasional bicker as Jay was insisting on turning right while you insisted on turning left. Turns out, it was to head straight for the exit. 

You shared a cab together to the hotel Chaewon specifically booked so that you could meet with the others. It was awkward having to explain to the driver that you and Jay were not a couple after he called you two a beautiful pair, the language barrier didn't help anything at all, leaving the rest of the journey to your destination a little silent.

The hotel was genuinely a sight for sore eyes. Upon arriving, you had to check if it was the right place, and it really was. The hotel overlooked the sea, there even was an infinity pool by the edge of the cliff. You wondered how you managed to get here, to this beautiful getaway.

It didn't take long before the others arrived, including Chaewon and Heeseung themselves. You and Jay were busy chatting with Chaewon while the others already checked into the hotel rooms, unaware about the existing problems until Heeseung came sounding them. Supposedly everyone was meant to get their own rooms, but there seemed to be a mix up in the amount of single rooms and there were one room short. Everyone basically already had their own rooms … except for you and Jay.

Of course it's going to be you and Jay.

"So, it's fully booked out? That's the only room left?" You, Jay, and the actual couple surrounded the counter, mildly distressed—well, mostly you and Jay were—the other two had other thoughts in mind.

"Yes, Miss. We're so sorry about the mistake. We can offer complimentary services as a way to repay you,"

Screw those complimentary services, you were on the edge of a meltdown. 

"What about an extra single bed for the room? For free?" Chaewon chimed in, flashing her sparkly eyes in addition to the very reasonable repayment.

"We can do that," the receptionist was quick to answer, putting on a pretty forced friendly smile.

"Wait, so we're sharing rooms?" Jay interrupted, sounding a little confused.

"Glad to see you're only catching on now," you seethed through your teeth, glaring rather unhappily at him.

None of you complained despite the constant bombardment of questions from Chaewon asking if you were okay with the arrangements. You came to terms with it, and you expected more sound from Jay, but to your surprise, he silently accepted it. 

"You're not mad or anything?" It was now just the both of you, alone in a corridor trying to find your room. 

"Why would I be?" From the tone of his voice, he genuinely seemed fine with it.

"I thought you'd rather die than be with me,"

"That's what you think," his eyes were on the doors and the numbers, but his focus on your every word never faltered. "I've learnt to tolerate you. I think you should do the same,"

"I do! I'm not exploding anymore whenever I see you," 

"Oh wow, is that the effect I have on you—here's our room," you stopped right behind him, standing in front of a door, waiting for him to unlock it.

The room was exactly what you imagined but also not. It was a small room, mostly decorated and painted with the overall theme of Mykonos in mind. There was a single bed there and it certainly haunted you. Please deliver that extra bed quickly, you thought.

"Home sweet home for two weeks, I guess," Jay muttered as he came out of the bathroom after walking around the room, though there was nothing much to see anyway.

"At least you get to live your Mamma Mia dream,"

"Touche."

Being heavily jet lagged and tired out of your mind, you wondered how Chaewon still had ample amount of energy left in her to be so enthusiastic and cheerful. She had invited the bridesmaids, groomsmen and close friends out for dinner at an outdoor restaurant, where the pretty view made up for the hefty price.

The chilly evening weather was perfect for you to pull out one of your dinner dresses, a black long sleeved midi dress that complimented you. Maybe pulling the dress out was a good idea hidden in disguise, because it definitely did a number on Jay. 

From the moment you stepped out of the bathroom in the dress to the point where you're waiting for your dinner, Jay has been enamoured by you. Even if he said nothing, his eyes couldn't lie, they couldn't escape. 

"I don't like the way he's always staring at you," Jay whispered quietly so that only you could hear. You knew who he was talking about, unfortunately, and you detested the fact that you were getting the unwanted attention too.

"I don't like the way he's staring at me either," you mumbled, avoiding your ex's watchful gaze. "He's going to be such a pain in the ass for me,"

"Out of sight, out of mind,"

"You don't say," you sighed into your glass of wine, hoping to down another in an attempt to cloud Yeonjun's existence away. 

Dinner was taking its own sweet time to get prepared, so everyone was scattered around, either by the bar or at the table. Jay had wandered off with Sunghoon and Jake, leaving you with Yujin and Wonyoung.

"Okay, guess who's here," Chaewon had snuck up on you and the girls, flinging her arm carelessly around your's and Yujin's shoulders.

"It's me," you heard a familiar voice announcing her presence in a sing-song tone, causing you and your friends to turn around, seeing one of your best friends, Yunjin, approaching with open arms. 

"Yunjin?" You gasped, rushing over to throw yourself on her. "Oh my God, it's been ages since we met," 

"I know! I've been busy, it's insane," after all the hugs from you and the girls, you sat down to catch up, listening to every drama Yunjin had to offer. 

Time wasn't enough for the amount of things Yunjin needed to say as dinner was starting to be served and everyone was gradually returning. To your utmost surprise, Sunghoon took the seat next to you that Jay had originally sat in. It seemed Jay was a step too late as his face had obvious question marks on it. 

You met his eyes and shrugged, but proceeded to mouth 'Yunjin' and pointed at the empty seat next to her. Well, you were trying to be a good sport and set him up. But his furrowed eyebrows told you otherwise. However, he didn't have much choice either but to oblige.

"I'm so glad you're here. I really need my support since he is literally right here," you shook your head, taking a big bite out of your pasta.

"Who?"

"Yeonjun," you muttered, basically coughed to cover the mention of his name. 

Yunjin tensed for a second when you said his name. It didn't go unnoticed by you either, weird. But you decided to shrug it off at the moment, not thinking much of it.

"He better stay out of your way for the entire wedding," Yunjin said after a beat.

"I'm making it known, but he's kinda … difficult,"

"Just stick with Chaewon, I don't think he'd mess with you when she's around. Remember that time she pulled his hair just because you two got into an argument?"

"Right. Typical Chaewon," you laughed at the memory, mostly at Chaewon's actions than the entirety of it. Thinking about Yeonjun and your past was simply heart wrenching. To be reminded that you wasted years on a man that left without any explanations was a different kind of hurt. 

"Anyway," you started, shaking away the random surge of trauma inducing thoughts, averting your attention back on Yunjin. "Do you remember Jay?" You nodded over at said man whose attention you caught.

"Oh yeah, I do! Same high school as us, right?"

"That's me," he said, looking a mix of awkwardness and confusion. "I'm Jay,"

"Hi, Yunjin," 

"Well, cheers America, I suppose. You guys can bond a little over that then," you wiggled your eyebrows at Jay, who only stared back at you with an odd look. Whatever that was.

The rest of the dinner consisted of small talks with Sunghoon and laughing about shared experiences with Heeseung. You didn't notice the burning stare from Jay until dinner was over and everyone was just lazing around under the clear night sky. The bar was still open and everyone was slowly hovering over there bit by bit, swaying along with the music playing in the background.

"You're not going to get some drinks?" Sunghoon was already up from his seat, ready to join the others by the bar. 

You shook your head. "I'm fine, I think I'll survive on the wine,"

"Alright, then I guess I'll be off with Yunjin," 

You looked over to see Yunjin already standing, smiling happily at the mention of some drinks and was gladly whisked away by Sunghoon, which meant you and Jay were there together alone. 

"I see what you're trying to do," Jay scooted onto Yunjin's seat, now sitting beside you with a slight frown. "You're trying to set me up with her,"

"You said you were down,"

"Maybe I lied,"

"Well, don't lie then," you hissed, grabbing onto your wine glass and taking a large sip from it. 

Jay choked out a laugh at your reaction, a familiar teasing grin sitting on his lips. "I'm joking. I don't care about her, I barely know her,"

"She's really nice," 

"I don't care,"

"Then who do you even care about?"

"You,"

Given the fact that he was sitting close to you and he never once broke eye contact, his words had a bigger effect on you more than you could imagine. What did he mean by what he said? Adding on that he didn't care about Yunjin had unknowingly given you a sense of relief, though you didn't realise it. 

Jay cracked a smile, laughing under his breath at your confusion stricken face and took it as an opportunity to leave you hanging. "I'm going to get some drinks, want some?"

"I—uh—no thanks, I–I'll stick to my wine," you were a stuttering mess, and you were letting him do that to you. 

You couldn't believe it, you couldn't believe yourself. Park Jong Seong, really? You were not fully admitting it but you had to be honest, you were feeling the slight sparks when it came to Jay. Shoot you, right now please!

As if he knew he had a lasting effect on you, that man had the audacity to look over his shoulder as he left and meet your eyes, laughing a little before turning away. Motherfucker. 

A few sips of your wine eventually turned into downing the whole glass. Talk about liquid luck, you need the confidence to uphold your composure no matter what. And it was definitely fitting when Yeonjun appeared next to you out of the blue. Maybe downing the wine was a smart choice after all.

"You're with Jay now?" 

"Why would it be your business whether or not I'm with him?" You snapped, not needing his presence at the moment.

"I just—nevermind,"

"What do you want, Yeonjun? Last time I checked, we're not on speaking terms,"

"I just wanted to talk,"

"Talk? You left me with no explanation and you want to talk now? I rather we stay no contact forever," 

"Look, I–I did something … unforgivable and I couldn't face you, so I left and—"

"What was it? What did you even do till the point where you had to leave and disappear from my life?"

"I don't know if this is the right place to say or even the right time, but I just wanted to say I'm sorry,"

"Save it, if you're not even going to tell me. I don't forgive you, Yeonjun, and I don't think I ever will," you forced out even though you were crumbling internally, wishing the ground would just swallow you up and never see his face ever again.

"Y/N—"

"Y/N," It was Jay. He was back from the bar, standing with a glass in hand paired with a very confused look on his face as he stared at a distressed you then at your guilty looking ex. "And … Yeonjun,"

"Jay," Yeonjun greeted, or more so, acknowledged.

There was a recognisable tension that hung in the air. Not only did you feel uncomfortable, but also awkward and angry, and it somehow prompted you to get up from your seat. You didn't know what you were going to do, all you wished for was to be far away from Yeonjun. 

"I—you know what, let's go get some drinks," you caught onto Jay's wrist, pulling him with you to the bar without looking back or acknowledging Yeonjun's existence. 

"What was all that? I felt like dying there," Jay said in a hushed tone once your ex was out of earshot. 

"I don't know either, it almost felt like a fever dream. He basically said everything but also nothing," it was evident from your voice that Yeonjun had affected you more than it seemed. How dare he seek you out after all those times of being away? For a minute you thought you were in one of those scripted dramas. "Tell me, Jay, how am I supposed to avoid him when he's literally here with us for the entire wedding?"

"Forget about the rest of the wedding, let's just focus on tonight first. You know what we're going to do tonight? Drink and dance," Jay laced his hand into yours, and it took you by complete surprise. The warmth of his skin calmed you, the reassurance in the glow of his eyes made you think maybe everything was alright. 

You eventually ditched the wine and went for something stronger, reaching the point where you were playing drinking games with some of your friends while Jay watched. It was until Jay had to pull you away from the drinks and try leading you back to the table, but you stopped in your tracks and it made things difficult for him. 

"Why are you stopping?" He held onto your arms tighter, though you weren't fully drunk, you were still stumbling over your own two feet. 

"Do you hear that?" 

Jay squinted his eyes at you, almost like he's saying 'are you crazy' without verbally doing so. "Hear what?"

"ABBA,"

"ABBA?" Jay questioned, but when you shushed him and he actually listened, he could hear the start of 'Dancing Queen' playing from the bar speakers. 

"Your Mamma Mia dream!" You threw your head back laughing and grabbed onto his shoulder. 

Jay had always been a man who knew how to keep his composure, constantly pretending that you were nothing more to him, but now that it came to you, he seemed to be losing every bit of it. The moment he watched you throw your head back laughing, he was a gone man. His  knees were weak and his heart was racing quicker than usual. He didn't even realise you had pulled him into the middle of a mini dancefloor by the bar. Why did they even have a dance floor? He thought. Whatever, Chaewon and Heeseung were dancing, some of the others were too, so Jay, for once, decided to let go.

"It's your song! Dancing Queen!" You patted his shoulder with the widest smile on your face as if things hadn't gone sour in the first place. Alcohol worked wonders for you. But it didn't cloud your mind when Jay wrapped his hand around your wrist and proceeded to pull you in, knocking your liquid confidence out of you. 

"Dance with me then," 

Oh.

Oh.

"I'd love to," 

Fuck it.

Jay bit his lips, smiling wide and pulling you with him. You stumbled a little, but you didn't care, letting out a carefree laugh and moving your body to the music, not even realising that Jay was standing there watching you, completely starstruck by you.

"What are you doing? Dance with me," you pulled onto his arm and he laughed in response, letting you boss him around in your half drunken stage. 

Jay was a great dancing partner, better than you expected. He twisted and turned you around, and at one point, he spun you around. It was fun living this way, not caring about a single thing in the world and getting to dance till your heart's content. It was written all over your's and Jay's face, how much you were enjoying each other's company despite not saying it.

It took Dancing Queen and a few other ABBA songs to wear you and Jay out, eventually having to retire back to the table a little sweaty and very sluggish. Being a little tipsy and tired, you were ignorant to the obvious stares from your friends and Yeonjun himself. Were you going to explain yourself in the morning? Absolutely not.

Heading back to the hotel was easy when everyone of you walked back together, filling the quiet night air with loud laughs and juicy chatters. Jay's jacket was wrapped around your shoulders, and he himself was straying not far behind with Jake. 

You said your goodbyes for the night to Yujin, Chaewon, Yunjin and the others before following Jay to the room. He made sure to have you by his side, occasionally sneaking glances at you as you both silently walked back. 

You've never been more glad to take your heels off and be back in your own room. As you stumbled around trying to get your shoes off, you caught sight of a change in the room. There were two beds. That's good. But they're side by side. Not good. The hotel was making a fool of you at this point. 

"What are you staring at—oh," Jay had entered the room, looking taken aback at the two single beds joined together. 

"They're together, they shouldn't be together," your words came out in a rush, almost in a panic. 

"Well, no shit," Jay mumbled, walking forward to the bed. "Do you want to move this? Oh, it's going to be a lot of work, the bedside tables—"

"You know what, leave it," you were too tired to complain, it was already past midnight and Jay was probably equally tired, it just wasn't a good time to be the one complaining here. "Let's just share the bed,"

"You're fine with that?"

"I am,"

"Really?"

"Yes, Jay, now stop asking before I downgrade you to the floor," that was enough to get the man to zip his mouth.

The process of getting in bed with Jay was bewildering to you. You were sleeping in the same bed as him. That was something you had to wrap your mind around. 

"You okay?" In the dark came Jay's voice. The lights were off and you were already tucked under the covers. There was a small space in between you and Jay, something the two of you made sure remained. However, you could hear Jay's faint breathing and feel the warmth emitting from his body. You were that close to him. 

"I'm fine, just … tired,"

"I didn't think you'd want to share the bed with me,"

"Why?"

"Thought you hated to be in my presence or something,"

"That's what you think," you said, quoting him from earlier on. Jay immediately caught onto that, letting out a snort in response.

"Are you finally charmed by me, L/N?"

It was your turn to let out a snort, but the smile creeping onto your face was telling you otherwise. "Go to sleep, Park,"

Jay laughed a little, and it was hard not to admit that it caused a swarm of butterflies to stir in your abdomen. "Night, sweetheart,"

Those swarms of butterflies were about to be a whole damn zoo. 

"Night, Jay."

That night, despite the space in between, you felt much closer to Jay than you've ever been before, both personally and physically.

Waking up to a feeling of heaviness over your stomach was alarming. Finding out it was Jay's arm was ten times more alarming.

Your eyes basically widened in light speed, snapping your head over to see Jay still dozed off beside you, but the space you both created was practically nonexistent. He was cuddling you. Cuddling you. No matter how many times you repeated it, you continued to be in disbelief.

The Park Jong Seong was cuddling you and you were in bed with him. If only fifteen years old you could hear that and not have a complete heart attack. 

You glanced over at him again, this time pausing at the sight of his face. The freckles littered under his eyes resembled constellations in the sky. It was impossible to deny that he had a face that was to die for, paired with features that were too delicate and detailed, he was a dream. 

Let's not start on his arm and the biceps, shall we? You carefully pushed his arm away, feeling the warmth from his touch slowly leaving your skin. Then, you made the run for it and headed to the bathroom without looking back. What a start to your morning.

It took approximately another thirty minutes before Jay woke up. By then, you were already done with your morning routine and were in the midst of choosing your outfit of the day. 

"Morning. You're up early,"

"No, Jay, you're up late. We need to meet them for brunch by twelve," you pointed at the clock that was conveniently hanging on the wall. It was half past eleven.

"Oh," he breathed out, hair sticking out in different directions, t-shirt all crumpled. "Give me ten minutes."

He truly stuck to his words. Ten minutes and he was out of the shower, fresh and fully awake. "Impressive," you noted.

"Thank you," he delivered a wink at you, bowing slightly. It was never too early in the morning for him to do that, was it?

Brunch came and went, eventually it was time for bridesmaid duties. You, Yujin, Chaewon, Yunjin and the rest of the bridesmaids were at the venue doing some final preparations and going through what's needed. But the tap on your shoulder didn't prepare you for the thing she was about to say.

"Is Jay single?"

You were in the middle of checking the flowers and decorations, but was left too stunned to really continue on. "Huh?"

"That American guy, the one you introduced," she repeated, as though he wasn't the guy you're literally sharing a bed with. 

"Him, yeah, why?" Playing oblivious to digest the question was such a strategy to pull.

"Is he—I don't know—single?"

"Uh—yeah … kind of? Why?" Now, why did you add 'kind of'?

"He's cute, I wanted to talk to him more but he's a little quiet," 

Oh.

"Oh," you were chewing on your bottom lip, a habit that you found yourself doing when you're nervous. Why were you nervous? "He's a little weird, I don't think you'd like him,"

"But I like weird!" Yunjin laughed, and you forced out one too, which eventually faltered into a frown that rested on your lips.

"I'll … let him know," 

"Thanks!"

It was indescribable, specifically that feeling you had when Yunjin showed interest in Jay. The boiling, distasteful, stomach dropping feeling you had throughout that conversation. What was it? Plus, why would she even like Jay? He's not special, he's just … Jay. Well, the Jay you knew for ages and grew close to, that Jay. 

He was the same person that you swore you hated, the first boy you got to know. He just so happened to be standing in front of you, after all that push and pull you did in your head, you were faced with the man himself, alone in the room together.

"You look distracted," his voice broke the silence in the room, startling you slightly.

"What?"

"You look distracted," he repeated, joining you to sit on the bed as well. "Doesn't seem like it's a you thing to be distracted. What's going on in that head of yours?"

You, Jay. It's you.

"I—uh—wedding things. They got the flowers wrong," it was a plain lie, but you managed to dodge his question, just like how you were dodging his burning eyes.

"Chaewon's not overworking you, right?"

You chuckled at his question, shaking your head. "If anything, she's overworking herself out," 

"You should stop her, don't want the bride to be burnt out by the time of the wedding," Jay said, and you nodded as a response. It was silent for a little while, the sound of Jay's foot tapping the ground was all you heard, mixed with the steady breathing of his. 

"Y/N," 

One utterance of your name from him was enough for you to turn and meet his eyes. He was already staring at you. There was the softest glow in his gaze that he reserved just for you. It was quiet, but whatever it was that lingered in the air between you and him, it was loud and sparkling. 

You hummed, unable to verbally reply under his stare. He was close, you weren't even conscious of the nonexistent space you two had, only becoming gradually aware that his shoulder was pressed against yours. 

"I—" he started, but nothing really came out, and it somehow disappointed you a lot. "Nevermind," he laughed it off, but you could only manage a small smile, a part of you which was expecting something more had eventually shattered.

"What?" You nudged his shoulder in a lighthearted manner.

"It's nothing,"

You arched your eyebrow at him. "Nothing?"

He shook his head. You let out a hum in response even though you didn't believe him, but you moved on from it for the moment, switching to another topic that crowded your mind. 

"Yunjin asked me about you,"

It was his turn to be curious. "She did?"

You nodded in affirmation. "Asked if you're single. I think she's interested,"

"What do you think of it?"

"What? Why would I matter in this?"

"I care about what you think about this. Aren't you the one pushing the whole agenda?"

"Well—"

"You can always just tell me to fuck off and I will, you know?"

"I can't just do that. You're a person with free will, why would I want to get in the way of your love life?" 

"I could sense the disapproval in you, Y/N," he leaned in slightly, not knowing how much of an effect it has on you.

You gulped, trying to regain your composure a little bit more. "Do whatever you want, Jay, really,"

"Really?"

"Really,"

"Alright, I'll trust you and your judgement. Now go shower, stinky,"

You punched his shoulder and stood up. "What a gentleman you are, Jay,"

"I'm joking! But you do need to shower after a long day,"

"Maybe I do,"

"So you think you smell too?"

"Now you're putting words in my mouth," you picked up your towel and pajamas, casting him one last look. "You better think back on what you were about to say! I don't like being left hanging."

You heard a humoured laugh coming from Jay, but you continued your way to the bathroom. In the end, you knew you were lying about being fine and secondly, you could tell he was hiding the actual things he wanted to say earlier on. It was clear that he was lying, you had a sure feeling about it. But you weren't exactly innocent either. 

Jay was easy to read sometimes. It was hard to hide from you especially when his eyes were speaking to you first. They were already telling you things that couldn't be described with words, something much more intimate, yet, he couldn't say it to you for some reason.

Just like how you couldn't voice out the truth about you despising the idea of Jay and Yunjin together. It was confusing you, whatever this feeling you had harboured in your guts, or the fact that Jay was overtaking your mind, and you were willingly letting it happen.

You hate him. You hate the way he laughed. You hate his charming eyes that turn into crescent moons whenever his lips stretch into one of his sweet smiles. You hate his flirtatious remarks, or that look he had in his eyes whenever he's with you. In the end, you hate how he wasn't yours.

Oh god. You're supposed to hate him, but why were you feeling this way for him?

Oh. 

You like him. You like Park Jong Seong.

From that night onwards, you've never been the same. 

Being aware of your ongoing feelings for Jay was both a blessing and a curse. It's great that you got to be in tune with your feelings, but also having troubles acting like yourself around him was totally uncalled for, which explained why you've been actively dodging him for quite some time now.

"Are you okay? You're acting differently," Yujin, being your closest friend, seemed to see through your behaviour like glass. 

You shrugged, trying to play it off as nothing. If you find yourself admitting that secret, you'd be fleeing Greece the next day. 

"We're going out to the club and you're so … toned down. It's so unlike you,"

"I'm just a little tired, the packed schedules are killing me, but trust me, I'm more than glad to be able to let loose tonight," it was part truth, part lie. 

"So no getting drunk for you?" 

"Nope. I'll get the worst hangover the next day so I think I'll pass," 

"I can't tell if you'll stick to your words," Yujin narrowed her eyes at you in doubt, and truth be told, you couldn't fully trust yourself either.

"Well, we'll find out tomorrow."

Almost everyone was there by the time you and Yujin arrived. Most of them were sitting in the booth but some had already wandered off on their own. Your eyes strayed to a certain someone sitting in the booth, realising he had his gaze on you first. 

Jay was dressed in a simple long sleeve denim button up, but there was a certain twist to it. First two buttons were unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up to showcase his forearms, a single chain hung around his neck and an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist. Now … you couldn't believe his simplicity and minimalism has managed to swoon you over.

He smiled upon meeting your eyes. This action alone had you melting and it wasn't even something big. You couldn't help yourself from smiling either, letting that man charm you over. 

That was until your gaze flickered over to his side. Yunjin. 

That same feeling in the pits of your stomach seemed to have made its presence known. You shouldn't be feeling this way. Yunjin's your friend. But why were you feeling absolutely sour the moment you saw her by his side?

"Wanna grab some drinks or you're still sticking to your words?" Yujin nudged your side and nodded her head at the bar. She always knew how to tempt you, but at the same time, you were looking for a moment's worth of getaway from Jay and Yunjin.

"Fine. I'll get something light," you grumbled, finally giving in. Yujin cheered and she absolutely didn't waste another second before pulling you away towards the bar. You felt it, however, a lingering gaze as you left that you knew who it belonged to. It took every piece of you to not look back and that was what you did.

As you waited for the bartender to be done with your drinks, you pulled your best friend closer. "I need to ask you something,"

"Ask away, old friend,"

"No questions until I'm done, okay?" You didn't know what had gotten into you, maybe it was the night time adrenaline or the fact that it's been eating you up since forever, but all you knew was you needed to confide in your best friend. Yujin nodded, clear confusion written in her expressions.

"Hear me out. Let's just say, hypothetically, I have a crush on someone and I see him with another girl. I feel some sort of confusing feelings, is that normal?" 

Yujin's confusion morphed into realisation, then a wide knowing smirk took over her lips. "So, you've got a crush, eh?"

"Hypothetically! Now, answer my question,"

"Alright, whatever you say," Yujin's smirk never faltered, but she gave it a thought. "I know what it is,"

"What?"

"You're jealous," she might've put it plainly, but it surely did come crashing down on you like a big wave. You? Jealous? That's new. "Well, hypothetically speaking," she added, unconvinced.

"Why would I be jealous? Hypothetically," 

"It's natural, Y/N. Seeing someone you like with a girl who happens to not be you can be gut wrenching. It's also a part of girlhood," Yujin said thoughtfully.

"Then what do I do? Drown myself?"

"Not exactly, no, it depends. Either you admit your feelings or continue living your life in denial," Yujin hummed, resting her head on her hand as she stared at you. "Do you like him?"

"Yes—well—hypothetical situation wise. I think I'm no longer in denial, but I just don't know what to do,"

"Tell him. What if he already likes you from the beginning?"

"Bullshit,"

Yujin raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure this is all hypothetical?"

"Y–Yeah, I suppose,"

Another satisfied smile spread across her face, looking as if she'd cracked the code to the safe. "I don't think you'd have to worry,"

"What do you mean?"

"You already have him wrapped around your fingers since day one,"

Did she actually crack the code? Was it that obvious? 

You let out a cough and straightened your spine. "It's all hypothetical, though. Don't worry,"

"Hypothetical, huh? We'll see."

How ominous that sounded. The ring of her words definitely burned in your mind even as the night progressed. Great to know you were burning with jealousy, but dreaded to realise you actually needed to voice out your feelings to be known. Why was romance this hard? 

What you know wasn't hard was drinking and dancing. You tried getting Jay out of your mind by dancing with your friends, even accepting drinks from a random guy whose name you learned was Intak. Apparently he was on a trip with his friends too. 

"Can I take you home tonight?"

"What?" You screamed over the music, but in reality, you were just trying to plot your escape.

"Wanna get out of here?" 

"I—uh—came with my friends so I think I'll stay," you were not liking how this was going.

"Come on, I know a good place nearby," he was reaching out to grab your hand but you quickly retracted it, slowly getting up from the tall bar stool. 

"I think I'll stay," you backed away gradually, eyes frantically blinking in anxiety as you watched him get up from his seat too.

"Hey, come on—" 

"What's going on?" Jay's voice travelled to your ears just as your back bumped into his chest, but you managed to recognise his voice before turning to meet his slightly agitated face. 

"Jay," you breathed out in relief, not even acknowledging the fact that he had caught hold of your wrist. 

He casted a glance at Intak, who thankfully backed down after seeing Jay approaching you. You thought your main concern was finally settled, but one peek at Jay's face, you knew he was mad without needing to ask. "Let's go,"

It was all fun and games until you realised he was genuinely pissed. His hold on you didn't loosen and you didn't know where you were being dragged to either. "Where are we going?" Silence from him. "Jay! Let go of me," 

The continued radio silence from him as he pulled you through the crowd and towards the exit only further your annoyance. You were angry and very much confused, an explanation was what you deserved too. 

Once you had exited the club, Jay finally stopped his tracks. The quiet night air that was accompanied by the sounds of waves crashing against the shore filled the momentary silence, just before you eventually cracked. 

"What are we doing here?"

"We're going back,"

"Back where?"

"The hotel,"

"What?" You took a step back, face contorting into confusion then anger. "I'm not going back yet,"

"You are. You're not staying especially when that creep is still there,"

"You're being unreasonable,"

Jay shook his head, jaw clenched. "What were you even doing back there? Can't you see you're getting yourself in danger?"

"I was just trying to enjoy my night, Jay,"

"And by that you meant getting yourself involved with a man you don't know?"

"God, Jay. Since when do you care?"

"Since always!" He burst out yelling, surprising you the most. He was breathing hard, eyes flickering around and his hands clenched tightly onto his jeans. "Since fucking always, Y/N, and it hurts me to see another man trying to get his way with you knowing how he doesn't deserve any part of you at all,"

Was this actually happening? Were you dreaming every word that was coming out of his mouth? 

"W–what? But I thought … I thought you and Yunjin—"

"For fuck's sake, Y/N, can't you see? I give a fuck about you, not your best friend, but you," he ran a hand through his hair, heaving a sigh of distress. "I want you. Ever since the day I met you, no matter how much you said you hated me, I just knew I couldn't feel the same, because … you're you, you're special like no other,"

The anger in his eyes melted into adoration, and most importantly, love. Desperation, longing and pining hung in his words, no matter how you tried absorbing them, your state of shock continued to render you speechless. You wanted to tell him how much you liked him, or the way he has been clouding your mind for far too long, but you just couldn't bring yourself to.

"Jay …" your voice was light and gentle, the alcohol in your system was buzzing and you swore you were about to lose your footing anytime soon. The additional silence from Jay only made the tension in the air thicker.

He opened his mouth, then closed it, forming a thin line. Eyebrows furrowed, thoughts clearly running through that mind of his. "I—forget it,"

That was the last thing you had expected. "What?"

"You're tired, a–and you probably don't know what to say, I can see it in your face. Let's just talk about this another day, okay?"

You hate to admit it, but he was partially true. All those times you prepared yourself by admitting that you did, in fact, like him surely hadn't gotten you ready for this moment. Maybe a heads up would've been great, but you couldn't help feeling sad that you had unintentionally left him hanging.

"Let's go back," Jay started to walk, but your feet were still stuck to the ground. He soon noticed and turned around, head tilted to one side in confusion. 

"I'm not rejecting you, Jay, I–I just need a clear head and a better time to gather my emotions. Trust me, I'm not pushing you away," your words might've come out slightly slurred, but it was all genuine. You held your breath until you saw a small smile forming on his face, waiting as he walked closer and finally stood before you.

"Alright, I trust you. Shall we go?"

"Let's go."

His arms were wrapped around you as you both walked under the night sky. You feared for the awkwardness, but it just seemed to be nonexistent. Your head was in a mess, but one thing's for sure, which was telling him how you felt once his heavy emotions diluted away. For now, you rested your head on his shoulder, basking in his presence before facing what was yet to come.

You didn't talk to Jay for the next few days.

Look, it's not that you didn't want to, you just couldn't. The bachelorette was the day after that night at the bar and it practically took up to two days since Chaewon insisted on a sleepover too, which also meant you haven't seen Jay for those days and given the situation you had with him, you're not sure if going no contact was the best idea. 

Then came the pre wedding dinner and its preparations. The whole morning leading up to the evening was just you and your fellow bridesmaids running around getting everything finalised. The dinner dress you had on definitely added to the dramatics. 

There was still an hour left until the open aired dinner. By then, you and your friends were able to catch your breath and enjoy some evening tea around the long table. The groomsmen were at one end while you and the bridesmaids were at the other, only furthering your distance from him.

"Hey, Y/N, can you grab me some sugar please?" Chaewon pointed at her cup of coffee, then batted her eyelashes sweetly at you.

The others laughed as you rolled your eyes. Maid of honour duties were truly on another level. "Alright, alright, anything else? You guys?"

"A cup of water for me please," Yunjin piped up, and a string of requests followed. It was almost as if you'd become their personal waiter.

You made your way towards the inside of the restaurant, passing by the groomsmen's end and getting some greetings from them. Your eyes, however, were on a particular one. The best man. He didn't meet your eyes, but you could tell he was resisting the urge to do so. He could have spared you a message or two, yet he chose not to, and that disappointed you more than imagined. 

You're not pushing him away, but why did it seem like he was the one pushing you away?

Just to make matters worse, the first person you saw upon entering the inside of the restaurant was your ex, Yeonjun. Of course he was here. Before you could escape from him, he had already caught sight of you and was calling for you. Just your luck.

"Y/N!" He took big strides towards you, and you cursed under your breath. 

"Yes?" You said slowly, taking a cautious step back. 

"I wanted to talk to you,"

Not again. You sighed. "Look, I'm not starting this conversation again. I'm tired, it's almost the wedding day and I just want some peace,"

"I–I just wanted to tell you the truth,"

"The truth?"

"The truth behind what happened. I owe you the closure that I deprived you of,"

Get you out of here ASAP. You stared at him blankly, your fight or flight instinct blaring loudly in your ears. Your foot took one step back, the other was waiting to do the same. 

"I slept with your best friend. I slept with Yunjin,"

Oh wow.

Nothing could've possibly prepared you for that. The reason why he broke off your five years long relationship was because he fucked your friend? That was almost a joke, except that joke was your reality. 

"I … I realised I was in love with her and I broke things off with you. Then I left and moved in with her overseas, before we eventually broke up too," his continuous confession only hit you like bullets. Maybe the closure and truth you were hoping for years was something you didn't need after all. "Say something, please, Y/N," 

You couldn't. Tongue tied and overwhelmed, your feet started backing up before you even knew it. Your state of shock had failed to notice a body brushing past you and advancing towards Yeonjun. Almost in a blink of an eye, Yeonjun was punched in the jaw and had fallen to the ground. The person turned around, and it was the one you were wishing on a star for. Jay.

Your eyes flickered between him and your ex, heart practically threatening to jump out of your chest at any moment. You didn't say anything and grabbed Jay's hands, pulling him out of the restaurant and most definitely away from the dinner tables. The beachside restaurant served its purpose as you dragged him to the beach, a storm of emotions clouding your senses. 

You reached the middle of the beach, and that's when you let go of his hand, facing him with a frown. "What are you doing? You ignored me for days and now you're out here punching my ex?"

"What? He deserved it!" Jay matched the level of your voice. "Y/N, he cheated on you with your friend,"

"I know, Jay, thanks for reminding me!" You snapped, but the anger and rage soon dissolved into a vulnerable hurt that you hid until now. Tears of grief betrayed your stone cold demeanour, gradually cracking under Jay's eyes. "Fuck," you hissed out before his arms pulled you into his embrace, sending you a mix of shock but also comfort.

He held you close, arms wrapped around you tightly. If anything, he has felt like home more than you had expected. He was silent, letting you pour your tears out even if it meant wetting his freshly ironed button up. To him, all it matters was you. 

"I don't know what to do now," you slowly pulled away, wiping the tears away and disregarding the fact that your makeup was most likely ruined. 

"We don't have to do anything first, we can just stay here and you can cool down for a bit," Jay said calmly, smoothing his hand on your back.

You nodded a little, holding onto his forearm and pulling him down to sit with you on the beach. The sand was rough against your skin, but that was the last thing on your mind. The two of you sat there, watching the waves and the clear blue sky, waiting for either one of you to speak first.

"I deserve an explanation too, you know?" Instead of mulling over your heartbreak, you decided to address the elephant in the room. If you couldn't fix one thing, at least you could fix this. 

"I thought of giving you space,"

"Look how that turned out, we're both hurting in our own ways. You said you wanted to talk about it, so let's do that," you turned your body to face him.

"Are you sure—"

"Very. I'm very sure, Jay. Just because I got fucked over doesn't mean I want to fuck us over," the wound might've been fresh, but it was to be addressed later on, you're putting the one before that first. "I have a clear head this time, timing is quite odd and my emotions might be a little over the place, but I've never been so sure about one thing. Jay, I like you,"

Jay blinked once, then twice. You didn't let him have the opportunity to respond, choosing to continue on a rant or else you'd combust. "I like you. Like, a lot. You have no idea how stupid I felt that night for not telling you straightforwardly, and I was so scared of losing you,"

"You could never lose me, Y/N, never," he reached over and rested his palm against your cheek, thumb swiping ever so gently over the mascara streak. You were a mess, eyes puffy from crying and makeup semi smudged, but in his eyes, you were beautiful. 

"I want you, Jay, you're everything to me, and I—" 

It was a whiplash. How Jay had finally closed the gap between you and him, addressing the heavy tension once and for all. Before you could utter another word, his lips crashed onto yours. It took you a second to fully realise, but when you did so, everything felt like heaven. 

The years of tension melted into the kiss, heavy and desperate, but also a hint of tender love was present. His hand on your cheek wandered off to the back of your neck, guiding you deeper into the kiss. His touch, his lips, they were an addiction. 

You felt him smiling into the kiss right before he pulled away, the smile still present. It was quiet except for your heavy breathing, but you couldn't stop yourself from giggling. The overwhelming joy of getting the man you deserve was something you couldn't contain, and it seemed he felt the same too.

Jay pressed his forehead against yours, palms resting on the side of your face. "Actually, that night in the hotel, you know, where I left you hanging?"

You scoffed, resisting a smile. "I know,"

"That night, what I really wanted to say was … I'm in love with you," he was cheesy, so cheesy, but it was genuine, and lucky for you, his cheesiness worked. "So super in love, since forever,"

You couldn't hold back your amused laugh this time, and your burning cheeks were betraying you. "I can't believe you're so cheesy! Who knew Park Jong Seong was such a hopeless romantic?"

"I'm professing my love for you and you're laughing at me?" He pinched your cheek, eliciting a louder bark of a laugh from you. 

"I'm kidding. I'm just as much of a hopeless romantic as you are," you pressed a kiss on his lips, rendering him speechless for a second, until you saw a grin spreading across his face.

"As much as I want to bask in this amazing moment right now, I think we should also face reality, because what are we going to do now?" 

You let out a groan. "I hate that you're right. I think we should head back,"

"You're not afraid of seeing him again?"

"Afraid? I might be heartbroken and still in shock but I'm healing thanks to all this—" you gestured between you and Jay, earning an expressive eye roll from him, "---plus, you can throw another punch for me,"

"You amuse me," he helped you get up and dusted the sand off your dress. "Are you okay, though? Genuinely?"

"Even if I'm not, I got to suck it up, don't I? I hate that I'm letting it get to me," your voice wavered, remembering the feelings you had when your ex dropped the news on you. "Years down the drain just because he fell in love with someone I considered a friend, it almost sounds like a movie night special,"

"Hey, hey," both of his hands were on your shoulders, warm irises gazing into yours, providing a pinch of comfort. "Fuck them, okay? You deserve much more than that. Yeonjun didn't cherish the amazing person you are and that's his fucking lost. You're doing better than him right now, you're shining, you're bejewelled,"

Gosh, you just wanted to grab his face and plant a big fat kiss on his lips. But instead, you opted for a smile. "Didn't know you were such a good hype man,"

"I'll be your hype man for as long as you want," he reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear so naturally that you didn't even notice at first.  "Come on, let's head back, the dinner has probably already started. Let me treat you to a nice spa session at the hotel when we get back,"

"Okay, but can we stop by the restroom first? I have urgent matters to attend to: my makeup."

The dinner had indeed started by the time you arrived, but with your presence announced, chaos ensued. At least your makeup was fixed.

"Y/N!" Chaewon practically stumbled out of her chair, dashing towards you with Heeseung behind her. The moment she reached you, you swore your breath was knocked out of you when she tackled you into a hug. "I know what happened,"

"You do?" You were surprised, curious as to what had happened while you were gone.

"Fuck—yeah, I do. Some of them saw Jay punching Yeonjun from the outside. The glass panels, you know? Then you guys disappeared and it was only Yeonjun so we kinda pressured him into spilling and that's when we knew …" Chaewon's voice faltered, her eyes wandering around your face for signs. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I should've never let him attend in the first place, and God! Yunjin too. I feel so bad and incredibly stupid—"

"Chaewon," you stopped her from rambling, trying to put on a reassuring smile. "You're fine, it's okay, you didn't know—hell—I didn't know either,"

"Are you okay? We can ditch this dinner if you want,"

"Are you okay? Chaewon, our family's here, Heeseung's family too. Don't let me be the reason for a terrible night. Trust me, I'm much better than you think. Maybe even better after a couple of drinks," 

"You're unbelievable," she wrapped an arm around your waist and led you towards the table. "But seriously, just because it's my wedding doesn't mean you have to force yourself to be happy and think you can't rant to me. I care about you, and I don't want you to be hurting alone,"

"I won't be alone," you unknowingly casted a glance at Jay who was standing by the groomsmen's end of the table, a drink already in hand. "I'll be fine, really. I guess anticipating the truth for years helped me to hurt less in some ways, but also not really when it's unexpected. What happened to them anyway?"

"They left, or actually, got kicked out. Yunjin really surprised me though. I didn't think she'd be someone like that. I guess this part hurts the both of us," Chaewon heaved a deep sigh. Losing a friend because of betrayal was a form of mental torture that you couldn't bear to imagine. 

She removed her arm around your waist and threw it over your shoulder, pulling you closer to her side. "Yes, it hurts, but life goes on, right? For now, let's celebrate and forget it all," she patted your shoulders, then added in a whisper. "Then we can have a good cry session after," 

You choked out a laugh, nodding in agreement. "Writing that down in my plans for tonight."

For the rest of the dinner, you sat with the bridesmaids. They were quick to offer you comfort, but were also relentless when it came to talking shit. Yujin had you by her side, pouring you drinks and checking up on you from time to time. You were glad you felt less shitty now that you're around these people. It might've been a hard pill to swallow, but considering how you managed to get by the years without the two of them, you're sure you would eventually be fine.

The dinner soon ended after a speech from you and Jay, the bride and groom to be, and also their respective parents. The atmosphere of the open air venue along with the emotional speeches definitely contributed to the tears lingering in your eyes. You eventually said your goodbyes to the others and gravitated to Jay, wrapping an arm around him.

"Hey,"

"Hey, you good?"

"After a couple glasses of expensive wine, I'm doing more than just good," 

"You up for some cake then?"

"Do you expect me to say no?"

Along the way back to the hotel, you and Jay made a detour to a local bakery. You were sitting in a corner as Jay took his time ordering. It was crazy how fast the night changed. 

"Took you long enough," you said once Jay finally arrived with the cake slices. He set the plate down, casting you a suspicious grin.

"Read the words on the plate," he pointed at the plate, and it was then you realised there were writings in red icing gel on the plate. 

'BF & GF?'

You snorted at the simplicity of the wording, eyes flickering up to see a big grin already resting on his lips. "Seriously? BF and GF?"

"Okay, there wasn't enough space and I had to bribe them to write it for me," he threw his hands up in defence, then leaned his body forward. "So, what do you say? Can I be yours and you'll be mine?"

The sparks in his irises and the boyish grin he had made you smile, a rush of dopamine coursing through your veins. "I'd be an idiot if I said no," 

Without any say, you leaned over and pressed a haste kiss on his lips, but that wasn't enough for him. Just as you pulled away, his hand reached for your face and pulled you into a deeper kiss, as if he couldn't get enough of you and the taste of your lips.

"You are the best thing that's ever been mine," he whispered, his hand on your face still present as he gently stroked your cheek that was gradually turning pink from his words. 

"You're going to be the death of me. Quick, let's finish this before it gets late." Hiding the fact that you were actually dying internally because of him, you took a big bite out of the cake, ignoring his watchful gaze. 

Walking back to the hotel was a much different feeling compared to previous nights. Under the Greek night skies where the stars shined brighter than ever, it felt like this time around, all of them had aligned. 

You and Jay were a burning star in the sky that never ceased to stay alight. You and him were eternal. 

Wedding day chaos was real. 

Waking up at the ass crack of dawn and running around had fueled your adrenaline for the day. By the time you were dressed in your dress that you remembered vividly of that specific day when you tried it out, Chaewon was also done with her wedding gown.

You and the bridesmaids huddled around at the sight of the bride, most of which were moved to tears, including you. It didn't take long before your feet moved on their own towards Chaewon and engulfed her into a hug, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions knowing your cousin was getting married.

The ceremony itself was a huge success, a beautifully done success. You got to walk down the aisle with Jay, the best man, then you watched Chaewon and Heeseung both exchange vows, proceeded to shed tears and emotions wavered to happiness once it was over. What a rollercoaster. 

You managed to catch your breath a little more when the wedding reception started. It wasn't long until the round of speeches began, starting from you, the maid of honour. You couldn't lie, there were lots of tears and laughter shared during then, just as much as there was during Jay's speech. Alas, everyone shared a toast to the newly wed couple.

Dinner was interrupted by the dance session where the bride and her father shared their dance together, soon after it was the bride and groom's turn for their first dance. Seeing them dance only widened the smile on your lips, and it didn't go unnoticed by Jay as he reached for your hand, holding it tightly and squeezing it. You exchanged a knowing look with him. 

The moment the dance floor was opened for everyone else to join, you wasted no time in dragging Jay out of his seat and towards the dance floor. The music was slow, a mirrorball that hung above casted a soft glowing shine across Jay's face as he stood before you, hands on your waist and your arm around his neck, both swaying slowly to the song. 

"You look absolutely breathtaking," he leaned down to whisper into your ear, eyes shamelessing sweeping your figure from head to toe. It wasn't his first compliment of the day, he made it clear from the first moment he saw you that you were beautiful, pretty, out of this world et cetera. This man truly knew had a way of pulling lots of adjectives out of his ass. 

"Thank you. You're very stunningly handsome," you smoothed a hand on his chest, secretly taking in the look of him in an expensive black suit. 

He smiled at your words, the hand on your waist travelling lower. "I can't believe we're here,"

"I can't believe it too. The months leading up to this moment was insane," your hand that rested behind his neck was playing with some of his hair, neither of you could bear to get your hands off of one another.

"I'm glad it happened though, or else we wouldn't have this," his eyes gleamed, a glimmer of unwavering adoration and admiration filled his brown irises. "I believe it was meant to happen. We'd always find our way back to each other,"

It was hard not to melt at his words. Your gaze softened, an overwhelming urge to kiss him there was impossible to ignore. "You're not going to make me cry again, okay? My emotions are really unstable right now,"

Jay laughed, shaking his head. You kept your gaze on him, scrutinizing the way his eyes shined whenever he laughed or that slight dimple on his face, everything about him just made you want to be the reason for him to smile. "I'm glad everything worked out. I truly am,"

"Me too—"

"WHAT THE FUCK!" 

Your head snapped at the loud outburst coming from a semi drunk bride that was standing before you and Jay. Her shocked yet puzzled face told you everything you needed to know behind her reaction.

"You … and … Jay?" She gasped, pointing at you and Jay, her eyes only bulging bigger. You had to block out the teasing smiles and looks from your friends who most likely placed a bet on you two. 

"Surprise!" You tried laughing it off, waving your hands awkwardly.

Her shocked expression turned into a euphoric one almost in a blink of an eye. Another blink of an eye and she was pulling both of you into her arms. "Guys, you couldn't believe how happy I am. I was rooting for you two, and it happened!" 

It was no help trying to have Heeseung save you and Jay. He stood there, shaking his head, as if trying to say 'just let her be'. Well, you two really did just stay there with an overly drunk and emotional bride hugging you.

Towards the end of the wedding, it was time for one the most anticipated parts of the wedding reception, moreover, it was a round for all the unmarried women to gather. The bouquet toss plus a drunk Chaewon was going to equal chaos. From her mild stumbles to overly giddiness, you and the others were waiting rather anxiously. 

The wait was finally over when she sobered up by a fraction and straightened up, her back facing you and the crowd. You doubted you would even catch it, but what's the harm in participating anyway? 

On the count of one, two, and three, the bouquet was tossed into the air and screeches were heard as everyone scrambled around trying to catch the poor bouquet. You took a step forward, watching the bouquet fall almost in slow motion before you. With a stretch of your arm, you felt your fingers wrap around the bouquet, feet stumbling a little out of imbalance. 

Then, it clicked. You caught the bouquet. Time to eat your words from earlier on.

A loud holler sounded from the tables, specifically where Jay stood. You glanced over, watching the groomsmen and Heeseung clapping him on his back, egging him tirelessly. His gaze caught yours immediately amongst the crowd, a wide cheesy grin plastered on his devilishly handsome face. You couldn't hold back an amused laugh either, unable to resist the smile crawling onto your lips. 

It was crazy how a wedding was the reason everything even started. It has brought you and Jay together, again, but this time around, more than hate was in the air, there was love. A new found love that you didn't know existed until him, the man you couldn't imagine being friends with in high school and was now the person you're starting a new journey with. This everlasting love was something you would never, ever trade for. 

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

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[hugs4nikii]

Brooo this is too cuteee I'm crying

MINECRAFT KITTEN ★

( high school! reader x highschool gamer! niki )

IN WHICH: niki, always immersed in games, teasing you for forgetting your minecraft cat, couldn’t help but notice you had a new friend — someone who wasn’t him. but it wasn’t until one night at a festival, standing beside you under the fireworks, that he finally realized something. and for once, he didn’t need a screen to understand what was going on.

read more !

a loud screech echoed through your headphones as you watched niki's avatar fall off the cliff, crashing to the ground and losing all of their health in the process.

"ain't no way-" you started, but he quickly cut you off, telling you to shut up, not in the mood for any teasing. it was 3:57 a.m. on a school night, but that was the least of your concerns.

"this is all your fault, i told you i didn’t like this world," niki grumbled, leaning back in his gaming chair, his eyes scanning the big screen as he re-entered the world.

"zero game in minecraft, zero game in real life," you mumbled under your breath, but having a microphone connected to your earphones was absolutely no help, since he heard every word you said.

"you're so not funny, i get tons," niki clicked his tongue, watching the village come into view as he sprinted toward it.

"yeah, tons of bad grades," you laughed, taking your eyes off the screen for a moment. a soft click echoed from outside, and you noticed a light flicker on from beneath your door, casting a faint glow across the floor.

as he was about to curse you out, the sound of footsteps creaked through your house. you quickly lowered the screen’s brightness and muttered, "my mom’s awake, i’ll see you tomorrow, niki, bye!"

"but wait, what about our cat-" he started, but you disconnected from the discord call, your modded avatar vanishing from the minecraft world he’d created. now the only thing he had left to do, was to sleep, as you were gone.

the next day came pretty quickly, during lunch, you made your way to his classroom. your found him sitting at his desk, hunched over, eyes glued to his nintendo switch. he barely noticed as you slid into the seat in front of him, pulling out your lunch and setting it down.

"so, you really dipped on me last night?" he said without looking up, moving the controller of his switch with a little more force than necessary, as he started fighting a random huge pokémon with his small pikachu in pokémon sword and shield.

"my mom was awake," you replied, popping the lid off your tupperware and stabbing a piece of meat. "you know how it is."

he clicked his tongue but finally glanced up at you. "yeah, yeah, whatever. still can’t believe you left me hanging like that. our cat was waiting for us, too."

you raised an eyebrow. "so? he barely even likes you. not even my cat in real life likes your annoying ass." you extended the fork with food towards him, as he let you feed him. when niki was concentrated in his game, he could shut out the whole entire world, and completely forget about anything. that was the reason why your mom always packed you extra food for him, knowing you were the only one who got him to pay a little less attention to the screen.

you pulled the fork back, watching as niki chewed without a care in the world, still immersed in the game. his focus was intense, and the soft noises of pikachu screaming an attack was the only sound that seemed to break through his concentration.

"you're not even listening, are you?" you teased lightly, watching as he barely glanced at you before nodding in acknowledgment. his thumbs were a blur against the controller.

he smirked, clearly unfazed. "i’m listening. you were saying something about how a little demon cat doesn't like me." his tone was casual, like he was just humoring you. but there was that hint of curiosity in his voice, the kind that meant he was listening more than he let on.

“mr. whiskers is nice,” you scoffed playfully, changing the subject. "anyway, i was going to tell you that there's this festival coming up, since tuesday of next week is a free day," you said, trying to sound casual. "and a friend of mine, invited me to go with him and his friends."

niki didn’t take his eyes off the screen, but you could tell his attention was piqued by the way his fingers slowed on the controller. he didn't exactly say anything right away, so you continued, trying to sound casual. "everyone is talking about how it'll be fun, so it's gonna be pretty packed. i know you don’t like extremely crowded places but you should join us."

"who’s this friend?" niki asked, finally glancing at you, his voice sounding just a bit sharper than usual. it wasn’t so much that he was interested, but more like he was curious in his own way.

"oh, remember, i’m the manager of the school boy’s volleyball team?" you said, leaning back a bit. "that’s how i met the captain, won- i mean, jungwon. he’s nice. a year older, but-“

"won?" niki interrupted, his tone suddenly flat, as if the nickname itself had an edge to it. he looked at you then, eyes narrowing just a fraction. his attention on the game was gone now, replaced by something else. "you guys close or something?”

you raised an eyebrow, sensing his change in mood. "close? no. i mean, i don’t know, he's just... he's just a friend. we're all friends, won, jake, kai, taehyun and i, you know. i hang out with the team often." you tried to brush it off, but you couldn't help the feeling that niki wasn’t as casual as he made it seem. it was like you’d hit a nerve.

niki didn’t respond immediately. his fingers paused mid-game, and his gaze lingered on you for a few moments. the air between you two shifted, and even though he tried to mask it, you could tell he wasn’t thrilled at hearing you talk about another guy.

"so, are you going?" he asked, a little more distant than before, but you knew that tone. it was his way of pretending not to care. still, there was something about it that made you smile to yourself. he didn’t like you talking about other guys, but he wasn’t going to admit it.

"i want to," you replied, shrugging it off. "i’ll see if it’s actually worth going, he said there will be fireworks, and different kinds of games, and a lots of food stalls."

niki didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t argue either. instead, he gave a half shrug, his eyes flicking back to the screen. "i’ll think about going too," he said, and even though his words were dismissive, you knew he was quietly processing it.

you let out a quiet laugh, not sure if you were teasing him or just amused at how easily he shut down the subject. before you could comment, he stood up suddenly, stretching his arms out like he had something else on his mind. "come on," he said, his usual aloofness creeping back in. "let’s go to the vending machines. i’m thirsty."

you raised an eyebrow at him, watching as he walked toward the classroom’s door without another word. "you know, you’re acting pretty weird right now," you said, following him down the hallway. "it’s just a guy."

niki gave you a side glance, but his expression was unreadable again. "i’m not acting weird," he muttered, as if that would somehow make it true. "i don’t care about your other friends, i’m just thirsty."

you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, knowing exactly what was going on. niki was reserved, always keeping his emotions tightly locked up, while you were, well, the complete opposite. a social butterfly who loved to stir things up and keep things light. but you knew him well enough to sense that he cared more than he let on, even if he was never going to say it out loud.

two days later, you were at volleyball practice, chatting with the team during a break. the gym buzzed with the sound of sneakers squeaking on the polished floor, the occasional thud of a ball being spiked, and the light banter between the guys. jungwon, the captain and libero, had just tried some ridiculous move, a roll across the floor in a desperate attempt to save the ball, and you couldn't help but burst into laughter.

"wow, amazing, won," you teased, grinning. "really thought you were going to pull off something like that, huh?"

jungwon groaned, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood up, his face slightly flushed. "it was supposed to be a dive, but the ball wasn't where i thought it was." he shot you a sideways glance. "i thought you were supposed to be the manager, not my personal critic."

"hey, i'm just helping you improve your style," you said, playfully flicking his shoulder. the guys around you, jake, kai, and taehyun, all chuckled, having seen the whole thing unfold.

"style? that was more like a disaster," kai, the middle blocker, teased, tossing the ball to taehyun.

jake laughed too. "yeah, but i'll give him credit, he looked really elegant rolling around on the floor."

jungwon threw his hands up in defeat. "you're all jerks, you know that?" but the smile on his face gave him away.

as the team continued to joke around, you stayed close to the group, leaning against the bleachers. you could feel jungwon inch a little closer as he joked back, and you teased him some more, throwing playful comments his way. it was all casual, but you couldn't help noticing how natural it felt being around the guys, especially with jungwon close enough that his shoulder brushed yours every now and then. since you started being a manager for the team, he had gotten really protective over you, almost like an older brother.

just then, the doors to the gym swung open with a loud creak, and niki walked in, his eyes scanning the room. as soon as he saw you, his gaze darkened, and he made a beeline for the entrance to the court, his hands stuffed into his dark hoodie pockets, his expression closed off.

you immediately spotted him and froze for a second. your heart did that funny little skip it always did when you saw him, but you quickly forced it back down, trying to play it cool. "hey," you called out, waving as you approached him. "you never come to practice, what's up?"

niki glanced at you, but his eyes quickly darted to the group of guys around you. you could tell he wasn't exactly thrilled by the scene. "nothing serious," he muttered, but his voice was a little more clipped than usual. "just wanted to ask you something."

you raised an eyebrow. "what's going on? you look like you've seen a ghost."

niki didn't answer right away. his gaze flicked over to jungwon and the others for a second before his eyes landed back on you. "you told me you'd go to the game store with me today," he said, his tone low but definitely a little frustrated. "i left you a hundred messages, but you completely forgot."

you blinked, momentarily thrown off by his bluntness. "oh, crap," you muttered, cursing under your breath. "i'm so sorry, i totally spaced and forgot to tell you about staying later. i got caught up here with practice, we’re meeting another school tomorrow and-"

"of course," niki interrupted, his voice flat. "it's fine." but you could tell it wasn't fine. it never was with niki. when he said it was fine, that usually meant he was irritated and pretending it wasn't a big deal.

you winced, guilt crawling up your spine. "hey, i really am sorry, okay? i didn't mean to leave you hanging, i promise i’ll make it up to you."

there was a moment of silence, then niki sighed, looking around at the guys. he seemed to hesitate for a second before he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. "whatever. just don't forget again."

you nodded quickly, catching the faint flicker of irritation in his eyes. "i won't. promise. how about we walk back home together alright? i’ll buy you something from the convenience store. practice ends in about fifteen minutes."

niki glanced at the gym’s double doors, then back at you. "fine," he said shortly, but there was a hint of resignation in his voice, like he was done with the whole thing but didn't want to make it a bigger issue. "i’ll wait for you."

you gave him a quick smile, trying to make up for it. "thanks for understanding, niki." he didn't respond, but the tension in his posture seemed to ease just a little as he turned to head up to the highest bleachers. your eyes followed close behind, glancing back at the guys, who were still laughing and messing around.

later that week, friday evening, you were sitting at home, boredom creeping in as you scrolled through your phone. without much else to do, you hopped onto discord and checked your friends list, only to see niki’s activity status showing he’d been on genshin impact for the last 14 hours.

you couldn’t help but laugh a little, shaking your head at how dedicated, or maybe just obsessed, he could get over things. the thought of him locking himself in his room all day just to farm for a character was both amusing and slightly concerning.

without a second thought, you tapped on his profile and hit the video call button. it rang for a few moments before niki’s face appeared on screen, his dark hair slightly messy, eyes half-lidded, and an unmistakable paleness to his skin.

"hey," you said, raising an eyebrow. "what’s going on with you? you look like you’ve been through a war zone."

niki groaned, clearly annoyed at the interruption, but there was a slight rasp in his voice when he answered. "i’m sick," he muttered, sounding a little congested. "i already told you, didn’t feel like going to school today." his face scrunched up as he wiped his nose, clearly not in the best shape.

you squinted at him through the screen. he looked like he wasn’t exaggerating. his usual energy was gone, replaced with a tiredness that made him look more exhausted than usual. "sick? are you sure?" you asked, your tone softening. "you look like you haven’t slept in days. you should be resting."

niki rolled his eyes, clearly not wanting to hear it. "i’m fine," he muttered, shifting the camera angle to show his screen. genshin impact was open, and he was in the middle of a mission, talking with npc’s. "i’m just trying to farm primos for xiao."

you let out an exasperated sigh, shaking your head. "niki, seriously? you’re sick, and you’re still playing that stupid game?" you almost couldn’t believe it. you were the one who got him to play hoyoverse games, but he was the one who ended up playing more than you. "you’re gonna make yourself worse."

“aw, so you care about me,” he looked back at you, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, though it was a little strained. "anyway, what else am i supposed to do? i’m already stuck at home. i’m on five pity, and the banner is coming out tomorrow." he sighed.

you rolled your eyes. "fine, fine. but if you’re so determined to farm, i’ll help you. just rest, okay? i’ll log into your account from here, get your missions done and farm domains."

niki gave you a half-smile, knowing full well he was probably better at the game than most people, but also knowing you were ridiculously good at it. your character builds were 10 times better than his. "you’d do that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"yeah," you said, leaning back against your chair and grabbing your keyboard to search for the game. "go make yourself some soup or something. i’ll get you all your xiao mats up, emo boy."

"don’t call me that. i hate that you’re better at this than me," niki muttered under his breath, but you could hear the faint amusement in his voice. "whatever, i still beat you at mario kart. just get me the stuff already. i need it."

"damn, not even a thank you," you said mockingly, already loading up your own game. you shot him one last look through the phone, noticing the way his shoulders seemed to relax just a little, like he was grateful for the help, even if he didn’t show it.

"thank you," he said quietly, the exhaustion finally showing in his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, as he hoped he would get better soon, but nothing seemed to go his way these past couple of days.

niki spent the whole weekend locked up in his room, barely able to escape his mother and sister’s watchful eye. they insisted he stay inside, rest, and recover. especially with the festival coming up and you telling them about inviting him. "y/n won’t want you being sick," she had told him, her voice gentle but firm. "you could use this as a chance to make more friends too, with the volleyball kids she runs around with."

niki, feeling exhausted but too tired to argue, spent the day in his computer or scrolling aimlessly through his phone, but his mind kept drifting to you and the festival. he knew you’d probably end up ditching him for your new friends and jungwon. after all, you two were practically inseparable, surrounded by people. you were made for that world, always the social extrovert, flitting from one group to the next, effortlessly fitting in.

and jungwon? he was just like you, outgoing, friendly, always in the center of everything. it made sense, right? you two should end up together. he was a perfect match for you.

but then there was niki, sitting in his room, playing games, not bothering with social stuff. he was reserved, quiet, the guy who stayed on the sidelines and didn’t need to be the center of attention. maybe he wasn’t made for your world. maybe he wasn’t even someone you’d think twice about, even if you told him you considered him your best friend.

it was a stupid thought, but it lingered in the back of his mind until the buzz of his phone broke him out of it.

he glanced down and saw your name on the screen. ‘what now?’ he thought, his heart giving an odd little flutter in his chest, but he quickly opened the message anyway.

‘hey, guess what? i got you the zelda game card you wanted for your nintendo! it’s been out of stock for a while, but i managed to grab one for you. i know you’ve been looking for it! i hope you get better in time for the festival, and for this to cheer you up. ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡’

niki’s eyes widened as he stared at the picture of the game attached to your message. it was exactly what he’d wanted, and he had no idea how you’d gotten it. he hadn’t mentioned it to anyone in a while, so how did you even know? his chest tightened. it wasn’t just the gift. it was the fact that you remembered. you didn’t do this for anyone else. not for jungwon, not for some other guy. you did it for him.

and then, as he stared at the message, it hit him all at once.

you cared. you cared about him. and that made him feel... well, he wasn’t sure exactly how it made him feel, but it felt different, like you were someone who saw him in a way others didn’t. not just as the quiet guy who played video games, but as someone worth thinking about, someone worth doing something nice for.

niki’s face flushed. ‘damn it,’ he thought, running a hand through his hair. he liked you. he liked you a lot more than he realized, and that realization hit him harder than he was ready for. he quickly typed back, his fingers moving almost too fast for him to keep up with his own thoughts.

‘u didn’t have 2 do that… but thanks. rlly. it means a lot.’

he stared at the message for a second, unsure if he should add anything more. but he left it at that, feeling a little awkward, a little embarrassed by how vulnerable he felt. he put his phone down on the bed, his heart still racing in his chest. he tried to shake off the feeling, but it didn’t work. something had shifted. and now, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

it wasn’t just the way you smiled, or how your eyes softened when you spoke to him, it was the little things. the way you noticed when his mood shifted, how you always seemed to understand him without needing to say a word. you made him feel seen in ways no one else had, and he didn’t know when it had happened, but somewhere between your shared moments of silence and laughter, his heart had quietly slipped into a place he wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

you cared about him. and niki, with a soft blush creeping up his neck, was finally ready to admit it to himself. he was head over heels for you. and he had to make sure you knew about it, only, he had no idea how.

tuesday night, the festival was in full swing, the park buzzing with life. strings of twinkling lights hung overhead, casting a warm, golden glow over everything below. bright red lanterns danced in the evening breeze, and the distant hum of music mixed with the laughter of families enjoying the night.

everywhere you looked, there were games, colorful booths with prizes, spinning wheels of fortune, and carnival rides that lit up the dark sky with neon colors. the sweet scent of cotton candy, roasted chestnuts, and sizzling food wafted through the air, drawing people toward the food stalls. couples walked hand in hand, kids ran around excitedly, and the whole scene felt like something out of a dream.

you stood at the entrance of the park, your fingers tapping nervously against your phone. the boys from the volleyball team were around you, chatting and laughing, but your attention kept drifting back to the screen. you had dressed up in your prettiest clothes, hoping to catch his attention. you had even taken the time with your makeup, but despite your effort, you couldn’t shake the growing feeling of disappointment.

you had texted him. called him. multiple times. but niki hadn’t replied, hadn’t even read your messages. the little ‘delivered’ icon beside each one seemed to mock you, and with each passing minute, the knot in your stomach tightened. it was starting to feel like he had bailed on you completely, leaving you standing there, vulnerable, in front of your friends.

jungwon, who had been standing just a little further from you with a lighthearted grin on his face, seemed to sense your unease. his gaze softened as he walked over, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder. “hey,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring, “i know you were hoping niki would show up, but… don’t let it ruin the night, okay? you look great. and we’re all here with you. it’s the festival, after all.”

you nodded, trying to smile, but the weight of your disappointment was hard to shake. jungwon noticed, his eyes sparkling with the familiar warmth that made him so easy to be around. “and if it helps,” he continued, “i’ll buy you and the guys some strawberries with chocolate and marshmallows. how about that? it’ll lighten up the mood.”

you laughed softly, a small but genuine smile tugging at your lips. “you know me too well.”

jungwon’s grin widened. “it’s my job to know my friends,” he said with a wink. “come on, let’s enjoy the festival. there’s still plenty of fun to be had.” his words were comforting, but there was a part of you that still couldn’t help but feel that small sting of disappointment. you tried to push it aside, focusing instead on the atmosphere around you. on the lights, the laughter, and the simple joy of being surrounded by people who cared about you. maybe the night wouldn’t go exactly as you’d imagined, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t still be special.

just as you were about to nod and join the others, a sudden vibration from your phone made your heart skip a beat. it was a notification. niki had finally read your messages. your heart raced as you opened the chat, only to be met with a single, short text from him.

‘running late. konon didn’t like all of my clothing choices. said i looked too emo????? be there soon.’

a sigh of relief escaped your lips, but it came with a tinge of guilt for doubting him in the first place. still, as you glanced up at the bright lights of the festival, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of excitement. maybe niki was running late, but at least he wasn’t gone. and with the boys around you, it seemed the night was still full of promise.

"guess what?" you said, looking up at jungwon. "he’s on his way. niki’s coming."

jungwon gave you a knowing smile, his eyes sparkling. “hey, that’s great, tell him we’re either at the food stalls or in line for a game. now, let’s get those strawberries, yeah?”

the group of you laughed and joked as you ate, the mood lightening with each bite. it felt good to be surrounded by your friends. even if niki had made you wait, the night was still shaping up to be fun. after finishing the strawberries, you all made your way toward the ferris wheel, the soft music from the ride drifting through the air. the line wasn’t too long, and the boys were excited, already bickering over who would be paired with who.

just as you were about to get in line, you saw him. niki. he came rushing toward the crowd, his footsteps quick, his eyes scanning the people. his hair was slightly messy, and he looked a little out of breath, like he had sprinted the whole way there. he looked around frantically, and just as he caught sight of your group, his expression softened, a small, sheepish grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“sorry, sorry,” he muttered, breathless, “konon and my mom made me change my clothes like a hundred times. i swear, she’s always making me late for everything.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the tension from earlier melt away. "it’s okay," you said with a smile, but your heart was racing a little faster now, just from seeing him. "you made it."

niki gave you a quick nod, his eyes shifting to the boys around you. “hey. what’s up?” he greeted them with a relaxed wave. despite the rush, he seemed completely at ease now. it was like all the nervousness from earlier had disappeared. he wasn’t bothered by your friends anymore. he wasn’t worried about the fact that you were all together, laughing, sharing the night. instead, there was only one thing on his mind, you, and how pretty you looked tonight.

kai playfully clapped him on the back. “you’re so late, but glad you made it. the ride’s about to start. get in line, you go with y/n.”

niki gave a slight roll of his eyes, but there was no real frustration there. in fact, he was beaming, his gaze flickering back to you. for a moment, the world felt a little quieter, like everything around you had blurred out, and it was just the two of you standing there, with the bright lights of the festival surrounding you like a halo.

you glanced at him, and when his eyes met yours, there was something new in them. something more confident, something certain. niki smiled softly, and this time, it wasn’t that carefree grin he usually wore when he was teasing. this one was different. this one was filled with meaning.

“you look good tonight,” he said quietly, his words just for you.

your heart skipped, a smile tugging at your lips before you could stop it. “thanks,” you replied, your voice softer than usual. “you don’t look too bad yourself, niki.”

you and niki, along with the rest of the group, had eventually made your way into the ferris wheel, the towering structure glowing against the night sky. you could hear the soft creaking of the wheel as it spun, the occasional shout of excitement from people already on the ride. the boys were already joking around, kai teasing taehyun from the carriage ahead. but for you, the excitement was mixed with a twinge of unease.

you didn’t really like heights.

you were trying to keep calm, to play it cool, but you felt that familiar knot in your stomach tightening as you looked around. niki must have noticed, because when you both settled in, he shot you a quick glance.

“you okay?” he asked softly, his voice a mix of concern and teasing. “i know you’re not exactly a fan of this.”

you laughed nervously, trying to act nonchalant. “i’m fine. it’s fine,” you said, though your grip on the side of the carriage betrayed you.

niki raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced, but instead of saying anything more, he simply reached over and took your hand. his fingers intertwined with yours, offering comfort in that simple gesture. as the ride started moving, you felt your heart race a little, but his hand in yours made it feel a little more manageable. with him there, you could breathe just a little easier.

the carriage slowly ascended, and you tried to focus on the view, forcing yourself to look out at the twinkling lights of the festival below. but as the wheel climbed higher and higher, the world around you seemed to tilt, and you instinctively squeezed niki’s hand tighter. you could hear the distant laughter and chatter from the crowd, but the heights, those dizzying heights, made everything feel overwhelming.

“don’t worry, you’re safe with me,” niki murmured, his voice calm as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “i won’t let anything happen to you.”

his words, quiet and reassuring, helped settle some of the panic in your chest, though your heart still fluttered with nerves. he shifted slightly, leaning in closer as the ride made its way to the top, the festival sprawling beneath you like a patchwork of lights and colors. from up here, you could see everything, the food stalls, the carnival games, the laughter of families far below. it was beautiful, breathtaking, but the height still made your stomach churn.

as you reached the very top of the wheel, the carriage slowly came to a halt. for a moment, the ride felt suspended in time, like the entire world below you was frozen. you tried to focus on the view, but your heartbeat quickened, and your palms began to sweat.

then, suddenly, the speakers crackled, and a calm, neutral voice echoed from below. “we apologize for the inconvenience, but it seems the ferris wheel has experienced a slight malfunction. please remain seated. we will resolve the issue within the next few minutes.”

this had to be a sick joke.

your breath caught in your throat. a malfunction? the words hit you harder than they should have. panic surged in your chest as the wheel remained still, suspended high in the air. below, everything seemed so distant, too far away, and you were stuck up here, vulnerable and exposed.

niki immediately noticed the shift in your demeanor. his hand tightened around yours, and he moved closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. “hey, hey,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “it’s alright. it’s just a small problem. they’ll fix it. everything’s fine.”

but it didn’t feel fine. your mind raced, your breathing quickened, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. you hated being stuck in places like this, unable to move, unable to control anything.

niki must have sensed your fear, because without saying another word, he shifted closer, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. “i’m here,” he whispered, his voice steady. “nothing’s going to happen. just breathe, okay? i’ve got you.”

you tried to steady your breathing, but it was hard. the space around you felt so open, and you couldn't shake the sense of vertigo creeping up. but niki’s presence beside you was like an anchor, grounding you in a way nothing else could. his steady grip on your hand and his arm around you offered a sense of security, his warmth a comfort amidst the rising panic.

he didn’t let go of you. his fingers gently traced circles against your palm as he held you close, his voice soft but constant, reassuring you that everything would be okay “we’re fine,” he murmured. “just focus on me. focus on my voice, okay? i’m right here.”

you nodded, trying to calm your racing thoughts. his closeness, his steady presence, helped push back the panic that had threatened to consume you. the ride was still paused, but you felt a little more at ease with each passing second, comforted by the way he held you, by the way he made you feel safe in a place that usually made you feel so small and vulnerable.

and as you looked out at the view again, it wasn’t quite as overwhelming. it was still beautiful, and though the world was far below you, niki was there, right beside you. and for once, it didn’t feel so bad to be up here.

you leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his arm around your body and the gentle pressure of his hand still holding yours. it was strange, how in the midst of all that panic, just being near him made everything feel better.

after a few more seconds of silence, you glanced over at him, managing a small smile despite yourself. "if they take too long to fix this, we’re going to miss the fireworks," you said, trying to make light of the situation. the fireworks were supposed to start soon, a grand finale to the evening, and the thought of missing them made a small ache form in your chest.

niki chuckled softly, a light laugh that made the air feel a little less heavy. “you really do love your fireworks, huh?” he teased, nudging you gently with his shoulder. “don’t worry, i’m sure we’ll see them. they can’t keep us up here forever.”

you nodded, though you still felt a little uneasy, not sure how long this delay would last. but niki’s voice was steady, and the way he stayed close to you made everything feel just a little bit safer. as you sat there, the ferris wheel slowly swaying slightly in the breeze, something shifted inside you, something that had been building throughout the night.

you looked up at niki, his face soft in the dim light, his expression calm but genuine. his dark eyes, that familiar glint of mischief and warmth, were fixed on you, as if nothing else in the world mattered at that moment except being here with you. and you realized, for the first time, just how much you actually liked him.

it wasn’t just the teasing banter, or the way he made you laugh, or even the way he’d made you feel safe in the middle of your fear. it was something deeper, something you couldn’t quite put into words. the way he cared, the way he was always present, always ready to be there when you needed him.

you shifted slightly in your seat, feeling a little vulnerable with this realization, but you couldn’t hold it back any longer. your heart was beating a little faster, but it wasn’t out of panic this time. it was something else, something that made your stomach flutter and your chest feel lighter.

time seemed to stretch in that moment, like everything had slowed down just for the two of you. the music from the festival, the laughter, the buzz of excitement. all of it faded into the background. the only thing that mattered was the soft rhythm of your breathing and the way your hand felt in niki’s.

you couldn’t remember who moved first, whether it was him or you, but there was a magnetic pull between you, something undeniable. the space between you narrowed, and suddenly, your lips were meeting, gently at first, like a question, a hesitant step forward into the unknown.

it was a soft kiss, but it felt like everything. each tender graze of his lips against yours, a shiver of warmth spreading through your chest. feeling him so close to you. for a split second, everything else was lost. the heights, the festival, the malfunctioning ride. they all vanished. it was just you and him, a fleeting moment that felt like time had stopped. you were there with him, fully present, feeling a pulsing connection that surpassed any words.

then, just as quickly as it began, it ended. the kiss was gone, but the feeling remained, like a warm glow spreading through you. the suddenness of it all left you breathless, your chest still tingling, your heart still racing.

and then, like a mirror to the fluttering beat of your heart, the first firework burst in the sky behind you. the colors exploded in a brilliant rain of lights, reds, golds, blues, illuminating the dark sky. they filled the air with so much beauty, but it didn’t compare to the feeling that still lingered in the air between you and niki.

you pulled back a little, eyes meeting his. both of you were silent for a moment as the fireworks continued to light up the night. the air between you felt electric, the shortest kiss leaving you both with something you couldn’t shake, wanting more.

neither of you spoke, not yet. words weren’t needed. you could feel the energy between you, quiet but intense, like the fireworks themselves, a series of bright moments strung together in the vastness of the night.

niki’s fingers tightened around yours again, just a little, a silent reassurance that he was still there, that he was present. and in that moment, you felt the warmth of his hand grounding you, reminding you that this moment, this feeling, it was real. "look," he whispered, his voice softer than before, as another explosion of lights filled the sky. "we're in the middle of this."

you glanced at him again, his face illuminated by the fading lights, a soft smile playing on his lips as he looked out at the horizon. and in that moment, it felt like the world, and the whole sky was yours.

BTW: corny ass niki fic i loveeee it LMFAO. also, a big thank you to xiao from genshin impact for being my #1, and kozume kenma for inventing the nintendo switch.

EXTRA:

masterlist.