#Mikey x OC

[girl-loves-nerds]

Shouldn't have said that

[metranart]

➡️ Look more Throughfully ;)

[missmadella]

Quiet Company (Mikey x Reader)

Summary: You never meant to meet him. You were just looking for air, for quiet. A rooftop far above the noise of the city, a place where no one asked why your hands still shook or why you only ever brought enough food for one. You didn’t know the pale-haired man already sitting at the ledge that first evening. And when you saw him, you didn’t ask anything. You just sat nearby… close enough to exist beside him, far enough to keep your pain to yourself.

Words: 13910

Trigger Warning: This story contains sensitive themes such as domestic abuse, emotional abuse, grief, self-blame, alcohol abuse, physical injury, and emotional vulnerability.

Please read with caution and consider your emotional well-being.

(It’s not as heavy as it might seem, but your mental health matters, and it's important to take care of yourself.)

The streets of Tokyo buzzed quietly beneath the weight of night. Neon lights flickered half-heartedly through a haze of exhaust and fatigue as you trudged past rows of closed storefronts. The sky was already dark, your shift long since ended, but your body still felt like it was on autopilot.

Your hand tightened around the thin plastic handles of the bag dangling at your side, its contents swinging gently with each step. Just one thing inside—a dorayaki from your favorite little shop. You didn’t really have the appetite for it tonight, but sometimes the ritual mattered more than the taste.

A tall, aged apartment building loomed ahead. It wasn’t your home. It wasn’t anyone’s you knew. But the rooftop was always unlocked, and you liked the view. Up there, the city didn’t press down so hard. It felt... distant. Manageable.

As you approached the rusted side stairwell, you didn’t notice the black luxury car parked in the shadowed alley beside it. Sleek, silent, and out of place. Inside, a man with pink-streaked hair and half-lidded eyes sat waiting, a lazy cigarette burning between his fingers. Sanzu watched you with passing curiosity, but didn’t move. You weren’t what he was here for.

You started the long climb up the stairs, the kind that made your knees ache and your mind quiet. Floor after floor. Step after step. The city felt miles away by the time you reached the rooftop door.

You pushed it open, greeted instantly by the night wind, and stepped out with a tired exhale.

But you weren’t alone.

A figure sat near the edge of the rooftop, legs dangling over the side, body hunched forward in quiet stillness. His hair—short, snow-white—caught the neon glint of distant signs. He didn’t turn as you entered, but there was something about his presence that made the air feel heavier.

You paused.

He didn’t seem startled, or even interested. Just... still. Like the skyline had absorbed him.

You debated leaving.

But he wasn’t doing anything. Just sitting there. Alone.

And honestly, you were too tired to care.

So, without a word, you crossed the rooftop slowly and sat down several feet away from him—far enough for space, close enough to feel the breeze together. You didn’t look at him. You didn’t ask why he was there. You just unwrapped your dorayaki, the crinkle of plastic loud in the silence, and took a small bite.

After a minute, you felt it: his gaze.

Not invasive. Not judging. Just... watching.

You looked his way slightly, meeting dark eyes. They were sharp, quiet, and tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep.

He spoke without looking away.

“…That’s dorayaki.”

You blinked, surprised by the quiet, gravel-edged voice. “Yeah,” you said after a pause. “Want some?”

He hesitated.

“That used to be my favorite,” he murmured.

You broke off a clean half and held it out to him in your open palm, wordless.

For a second, he didn’t move.

Then he took it, fingers brushing yours briefly—cold and calloused.

The wind picked up. The silence settled again.

But this time, it felt like company instead of solitude.

He took the dorayaki with a kind of cautious stillness—like he was unfamiliar with the idea of someone offering something without a price. His fingers lingered for a second longer than they needed to, then withdrew.

You didn’t say anything. Just returned to your own half and took another bite, eyes fixed on the skyline.

From up here, the city didn’t feel quite so harsh. The lights glittered like they belonged to another world. One that kept turning, whether you kept up or not.

The man beside you didn’t eat his right away.

You caught it out of the corner of your eye—how he stared down at the dorayaki resting in his palm. Like it had brought back a memory he wasn’t sure he wanted. His profile was calm, unreadable. Beautiful in that delicate, worn-down kind of way. Not soft—more like something polished by grief and silence.

Still, you didn’t ask anything.

You didn’t need to.

People came to rooftops like this one to be left alone. You understood that. And yet... neither of you had left.

“I come up here to breathe,” you said after a while. Not loud, not asking for a response. Just offering it to the quiet. “Everything down there’s too loud sometimes.”

His eyes flicked toward you—brief, barely a second—and then away.

You didn’t mind the lack of a reply. In fact, it was a little comforting. Most people fill silence out of fear. He let it exist.

Eventually, he spoke, voice low, the kind you almost mistake for the wind.

“You come here often?”

“Couple times a week,” you said. “When work gets too much, or when I can’t stand my own apartment.”

A ghost of something passed over his face. Understanding. Maybe recognition. Maybe regret.

You smiled softly and glanced toward him. “What about you? Live nearby?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he finally took a bite of the dorayaki.

Chewed. Swallowed.

“…Not really,” he said quietly. “I just… needed to be somewhere tonight.”

You nodded, respecting that. Some people needed bars. Some needed noise. Others—people like you—needed open sky.

The wind rustled again. The plastic bag fluttered beside you.

You noticed, absently, that his coat looked expensive. The way he sat—back straight, alert even in stillness—told you he wasn’t just any guy killing time. But there was nothing threatening about him. He looked... exhausted. Not from the day. From living.

You tucked your knees up to your chest and rested your chin there, staring out at the distant blinking red light atop a skyscraper.

“I won’t ask why,” you said quietly. “But I hope whatever brought you here… eases up soon.”

He glanced at you again. Really looked, this time.

And maybe—just maybe—you saw a crack in the wall behind his eyes.

“…You’re weird,” he said, but there was no venom in it. Just a touch of surprise. Maybe even something bordering on warmth.

You gave a tired little laugh. “Takes one to know one.”

That earned a breath through his nose. Not quite a laugh. Not quite a sigh. But it was something.

Neither of you spoke for a while after that.

The city buzzed far below, and the sky above was starting to collect stars—only a few, barely visible against the light pollution, but they were there.

You finished your half of the dorayaki and wiped your fingers on a napkin from your bag. He still had a small bite left in his hand but didn’t seem to be in a rush to finish it.

He looked at it, then at you.

“What’s your name?” he asked, like it just occurred to him he didn’t know it.

You gave it, quietly.

He didn’t offer his in return. You didn’t ask. The moment didn’t need it.

The air was cooler now, brushing against your face with a gentleness that made your eyelids heavy. The city below was still alive, but it no longer pulled at your thoughts.

Beside you, the white-haired stranger sat in contemplative silence, half-eaten dorayaki resting between his fingers. It felt like neither of you wanted to speak in case you broke the fragile stillness—like talking too loud might scare it off.

But time, as always, pressed forward.

You checked your phone for the first time since arriving. A new message. A reminder of the world waiting for you downstairs.

You sighed, stood slowly, and stretched with a soft groan. Your body protested a little, but you were used to it.

He didn’t move. Just glanced up at you.

“I should go,” you said, brushing invisible dust from your clothes. “Early morning again.”

He gave the smallest of nods. Still seated, still quiet. You hesitated for just a second. Then, wordlessly, you reached into your plastic bag and pulled out the second dorayaki you’d bought—something you'd meant to eat tomorrow, or maybe not at all.

You stepped closer, slowly, and set it down on the concrete beside him. Just within reach.

You didn’t meet his eyes when you spoke.

“I think you need it more than I do.”

He looked up at you—actually looked this time. There was a flicker of something there that hadn’t been before. Not surprise. Not gratitude.

Something softer.

Maybe even human. You offered him the ghost of a smile. Not cheerful. Just real.

Then you turned and walked away, not waiting for a reply. You didn’t need one. You pushed open the rooftop door and let it swing shut behind you, metal hinges groaning.

Back in the stairwell, the world felt heavier again. No skyline. No breeze. No strange, quiet man with hollow eyes and a heart you couldn’t see—but maybe, just maybe, had started to beat again.

On the rooftop, Mikey sat alone once more.

He stared down at the untouched dorayaki beside him, then at the city stretched endlessly below.

For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like jumping.

___________________________________________________________

A week passed.

You didn’t expect to see him again.

He hadn’t said his name. He hadn’t made any promises. He’d just sat beside you in the quiet and accepted a piece of your night.

But something about him lingered—like the smell of rain on warm pavement. You found yourself looking at rooftops and alley corners a little differently, wondering if he might appear again in the edges of your world.

Tonight, the city was buzzing too loud in your head again.

So instead of the rooftop, you pushed open the cracked door to one of the old, abandoned apartments just a floor or two beneath it. You’d discovered it months ago—left unlocked, unclaimed, forgotten.

Dust blanketed everything. Paint peeled from the corners. But tucked into the far end of the room, beneath a window that faced the flickering skyline, stood an upright piano. Old. Out of tune in places. But still alive.

You stepped inside and closed the door behind you, leaving the world out there in the hallway.

Your fingers hovered for a moment over the keys, then settled. You didn’t play anything complicated. Just soft chords. Gentle melodies. Music that didn’t need to prove itself. Notes filled the space slowly, like light pouring into water. The city outside blurred. Your heartbeat steadied.

You didn’t hear the door open. But you felt him. That same stillness from before—quiet, watchful, heavy. Not threatening. Just present.

Your hands didn’t falter on the keys. You didn’t turn.

You knew it was him.

He stood in the doorway for a while, silent as a shadow, eyes fixed on you like he couldn’t quite believe you were real. Then—without a word—you reached out your left hand, palm open, fingers gentle and inviting.

An unspoken gesture.

Come here.

He moved eventually, quietly, walking across the creaking floorboards. He didn’t sit beside you—didn’t press too close. Instead, he lowered himself in front of the piano, back against the old wall, legs stretched out, head tilted up.

His eyes fluttered shut.

You kept playing. And in that abandoned room, you shared something neither of you had language for.

No names. No questions. No history.

Just music.

And the knowledge that somehow, despite the weight both of you carried, this moment felt like breathing.

The soft clinking of keys filled the room like dust caught in sunbeams.

Your left hand stayed extended for a while after he entered, the offer hanging gently between you. When he finally moved, it was with that same quiet grace—no sound beyond the floorboards creaking softly under his boots.

He sat in front of the piano at first, back against the wall, head resting lightly as if the silence itself was cradling him.

You continued to play.

But something in you wanted him closer. Not in front of you. Not across the room. Right there.

Without looking at him, your voice slipped out, calm and clear.

“…Come sit beside me.”

A pause. No movement. Then, slowly, he stood again. The sound of his coat brushing against itself. Footsteps muted.

He sat down on the piano bench. Not facing the keys. Back to you. Shoulders straight, arms resting at his sides, head bowed ever so slightly—like he wasn’t used to being this close to softness, and didn’t quite know what to do with it.

You didn’t say anything more. You just kept playing.

The tune shifted slightly, your fingers brushing over familiar chords in a slow, dreamy rhythm. The kind of music that didn’t need perfection. The kind that felt like thinking out loud.

And then—you hit a wrong note. A flat clunk in the middle of something light and flowing.

Your fingers froze for half a second. Then a soft sound escaped you—a half-laugh, half-sigh. Not embarrassed. Just amused.

You laughed again, fuller this time. A warm, easy laugh that echoed off the empty walls and filled the room with something that wasn’t music, but was just as beautiful.

And for the first time, he reacted. His head lifted slightly. His eyes opened.

He didn’t turn to look at you—but you could feel the shift in the air. He had heard you. Not just your playing. Not just your words.

You.

The sound of your laughter settled into him like a memory he didn’t know he needed. Something small and gentle pressing against the cold edges of his mind.

You wiped at your eye with a knuckle and shook your head lightly. “Well, that killed the mood,” you murmured, still smiling.

He said nothing.

But the corner of his mouth moved. Just a little. Almost a smile. You kept playing, less carefully now. A little more freely. Not afraid to miss a note. And he sat there, back to you, eyes closed again. Not to shut you out. But to hold you in.

________________________________________________________

Your laughter slowly faded, and the last few notes of the song drifted off like smoke, unfinished. You let your hands rest on the keys, but didn’t start a new melody right away.

For a while, you both just sat there—him with his back to you, you still watching his profile out of the corner of your eye. He hadn’t said anything. But he hadn’t left either.

That was something.

You leaned forward a little, arms folding atop the piano as you looked out the dusty window.

“…It’s okay to laugh, you know,” you said softly. “Even if it’s just at me screwing up.”

His voice, when it came, was low and quiet. “I wasn’t laughing.” You tilted your head toward him. “No, you weren’t. But you listened.” A pause. He nodded once, barely.

And then: “You have a nice laugh.”

You blinked, surprised—not by the words, but by the way he said them. Careful. Like it wasn’t a line, or something he usually offered anyone. Just a fact. Something honest.

You smiled again, this time without laughing.

“Thanks. It doesn’t come out much these days.”

He didn’t answer, but his shoulder shifted slightly, as if he wanted to say something else and changed his mind halfway.

So you filled the space.

“You come here to think, don’t you?”

Silence again. Then:

“…I don’t know what I come here for.”

You looked at him, really looked, and for the first time, you realized something had changed since that rooftop meeting.

He looked less… frozen.

Still guarded. Still carrying something heavy in the slope of his shoulders. But there was color in him now. Not just pale white and black clothes.

“You seem different,” you said quietly. “From last time.”

That got his attention.

His head tilted just slightly in your direction, though he still didn’t face you.

“Different how?”

“I don’t know,” you said with a small shrug. “Like maybe… something got a little lighter. Even if it’s still hard to carry.”

He was quiet again.

But this time, the silence wasn’t heavy. It was thoughtful.

Then—he finally turned.

Just enough to see you over his shoulder. His dark eyes studied you quietly, and you let him.

“…What’s your name again?” he asked.

You told him.

The corners of his mouth moved again. Like he was memorizing it this time.

And then—after a beat—he finally offered:

“Manjiro.”

The name settled in the space between you. Heavy, but somehow gentle too. Like he’d just handed you something private.

“Manjiro,” you repeated softly, testing the shape of it in your mouth. “That’s a nice name.”

Most people probably called him something else.

You could tell. But he gave you that name. The one he was born with. And you didn’t ask for more. Didn’t press. Didn’t poke at the mystery behind his tired eyes. You just gave him a small, real smile.

“I’m glad you came back.”

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer.

“…Me too.”

_____________________________________________________

It was a gray morning.

The kind that didn’t pretend to be anything else. No sunlight breaking through the clouds, no warmth in the air. Just stillness. And a soft, persistent breeze that moved the trees without a sound.

You walked the familiar path through the cemetery, the grass soft beneath your shoes, the paper-wrapped bundle in your hand held gently, like it might shatter.

You didn’t come here often. Not because you forgot.

But because sometimes, remembering felt like trying to hold water in your hands. Today was different.

Today, the ache had crept higher than usual. You’d woken up with a knot in your chest, and by midmorning, you knew where you needed to be.

You stopped at the little stone that bore no name. Only a date. You crouched down slowly, resting the flowers beside it.

“Hey, little one,” you murmured, brushing a few fallen leaves away. “It’s just me again.”

The breeze curled around your ankles, and you closed your eyes for a moment.

Just breathing.

Not far away, footsteps crunched the gravel path. You didn’t look up at first—people came and went here. Quiet mourners, distant relatives, caretakers with tired eyes.

But something in you stirred. That stillness. The presence you somehow recognized now without needing to see.

You turned your head slightly. And there he was.

Manjiro.

He stood beneath a tree not far off, a bouquet of pale lilies in his hand. He stared down at two headstones side by side. You couldn’t read them from here, but the way he stood—still and reverent, like he was holding a conversation without words—told you they were important.

You turned back to your own grief, not wanting to intrude.

But after a while, you heard his steps again. Coming closer. Slow, thoughtful.

He didn’t speak. Just stopped beside you. Not too close. Just close enough that you knew the silence was shared.

You stayed kneeling, hands folded in your lap, eyes on the stone. After a minute, your voice came out low.

“My daughter. She didn’t make it past the first day.”

You hadn’t meant to say it. But maybe some truths only rise to the surface when spoken to someone who carries their own ghosts.

He didn’t respond. Not with words.

But when you looked up, he was crouched beside you now, resting on his heels. Quiet. Present. After a moment, he nodded toward the small marker.

“Can I leave something?” he asked softly. You blinked. Then nodded.

He reached into the inside pocket of his coat and pulled out something small—wrapped in a paper napkin.

Dorayaki.

He set it gently beside the stone. You couldn’t speak for a moment.

“I used to bring her sweets when I was pregnant,” you whispered. “Silly, I know.”

“It’s not silly.” You looked at him.

And in his expression—still and unreadable as ever—there was something you hadn’t seen before.

Recognition.

He knew this feeling. He lived in it.

“Your family?” you asked gently, tilting your head toward where he’d been standing.

He didn’t answer right away.

Then: “Yeah. My brother… and my sister.”

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly.

“Me too.” The wind picked up a little. A leaf brushed past your knee.

For a long while, neither of you spoke. But the silence didn’t sting like it usually did. It just sat between you—sad, but not alone anymore.

Eventually, you rose to your feet slowly, brushing your hands off and gazing at the little stone once more. “I’ll come again soon,” you murmured, almost to yourself.

You turned to Manjiro.

“You want to walk with me a bit?” He looked at you for a long second.

Then nodded.

As the two of you stepped away from the graves, side by side, nothing in the world had changed.

But something in your hearts had. Maybe not lighter. But not quite as alone.

__________________________________________________________

The walk back through the cemetery was silent, but this time it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Just quiet, in a way that felt natural between two people who hadn’t asked for the burden they carried but understood it all the same.

Manjiro didn’t speak until you were nearly past the gates, the stone pillars looming above like quiet sentinels. The cemetery was behind you, and the city had started to swallow the sky in its usual dull light.

“So,” he said, his voice low but not unkind. “What about you? What do you do… when you’re not here?”

You glanced at him, surprised.

“I—” You started, but stopped. “I’m a nurse. Work with the elderly mostly. Long hours. Not much time for anything else, to be honest.”

He nodded, the faintest tilt of his head. As if he was piecing it together. As if the quiet that surrounded you had somehow been a part of that.

“What else?” he asked, eyes steady on you, not judgmental. Just curious in that soft, unassuming way.

You hesitated, the warmth of the sun now barely reaching your shoulders as you walked, hands tucked into the pockets of your coat. There was a small sense of unease, like you were offering up something private without meaning to.

But then, you pulled it out of your coat pocket.

A cigarette.

It was wrapped in a simple paper, crinkled slightly from your grip. It wasn’t something you did often, just once in a while—one cigarette a year, usually after a quiet day like today. Something to tether you to that part of yourself before it faded back into the rest of the world.

You slid it between your lips, pulling the lighter from your pocket with slow movements. He didn’t stop you.

As you flicked the lighter, a small breeze caught the flame, and you held your breath for just a second, letting the fire catch.

The first drag was slow—something soothing. The weight of the day still on your shoulders, but in that moment, it felt lighter.

Manjiro didn’t look away. He just watched you, as you took another drag, the smoke curling upward in a way that felt like you were pushing everything away.

“Don’t usually smoke,” you said quietly, exhaling the smoke. “Just sometimes, when the quiet gets too loud.”

He was still for a moment, as if letting that sink in.

“...Does it help?”

You shrugged, taking another drag and blowing it out slowly.

“Helps enough for today,” you said.

A small silence passed between you.

You could feel his gaze still on you, but it wasn’t judgment. It wasn’t critical. Just... curious. Like he was getting to know the parts of you that weren’t laid out so easily.

He didn’t ask more about the cigarette, just like he hadn’t asked more about the grave. But there was something different in the way he looked at you now, like a new layer had been peeled away.

For the first time, he spoke again.

“You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to…” He trailed off, almost hesitant. “But... what’s it like for you? Being a nurse, I mean. All those people you take care of. Does it make it... easier to let go of things?��

You paused, flicking the ash off the tip of the cigarette.

“It’s not about letting go,” you said after a moment. “It’s about... learning how to carry it. You don’t ever really get rid of it. It’s just a part of you now.”

Manjiro said nothing for a while.

You knew he understood.

Eventually, he spoke, voice softer than before.

“I think... it’s the same for me,” he said, almost quietly, as if revealing something he hadn’t admitted aloud in a while. “Trying to carry things. The things I’ve done. The things I’ve lost.”

You glanced at him as he said it. His profile was turned away from you, but his words still hung in the air.

“You don’t have to do it alone,” you said gently, voice quiet, but with an honesty that matched his.

His eyes flicked to you, just for a moment, before looking forward again.

For the briefest second, you saw something like a sigh behind his gaze. Maybe a relief he didn’t know he’d been holding in.

And for the first time, when you exhaled that last bit of smoke into the gray air, it didn’t feel like you were hiding.

You were just being.

Two people. Quietly carrying the weight of things together. Even if it was just for this moment.

You flicked the cigarette away, the ember fading as it fell to the ground.

“Well,” you said with a small, genuine smile, “guess we both know how to carry a little more weight now.”

He didn’t answer, but he did walk beside you for the rest of the way.

In the silence, you both shared a piece of the weight. Not through words. Not through promises.

Just through the company.

___________________________________________________

Mikey sat alone in the backseat of the car, the city drifting past in slow motion through the tinted window.

Sanzu was up front, saying nothing for once. Maybe he felt the difference in the air. Maybe he just knew better than to poke at whatever was sitting on Mikey’s shoulders.

The cigarette smoke still lingered in his mind, long after she flicked it to the pavement.

It hadn’t been sharp like most of the world. It had been soft. Faded. Like the kind of bad habit you hold onto not because you need it—but because it's the only thing that feels real on days when everything else is numb.

That was her, wasn’t it? Soft in a way that didn’t ask for anything. Strong in a way that didn’t announce itself. He leaned his head back against the seat, eyes half-closed.

He could still hear her voice when she talked to the grave. Still see her fingers brush dust from the stone like she was tucking in a sleeping child.

He hadn’t meant to ask about her. That wasn’t how he operated anymore.

He didn’t chase people. Didn’t wonder about them.

But something about her made the silence feel different. Like maybe there was something left in this world that wasn’t soaked in blood or regret.

Still... she said she’d had a daughter. So where was the father?

His fingers drummed slowly against the car door.

Maybe he left. Maybe he died. Maybe he never knew. Mikey didn’t like guessing. Not about this.

“You know a woman who works in elder care?” he asked suddenly, voice low.

Sanzu turned halfway in his seat. “...You want me to find someone?”

Mikey said nothing for a moment.

Then: “She’s a nurse. Works with the elderly. Black coat, soft voice. Goes to the cemetery sometimes. I want to know who she is. What happened to her.”

Sanzu blinked slowly. Then a grin started to pull at the edge of his mouth. But one look from Mikey stopped it before it could finish forming.

“This isn’t for a job,” Mikey added. “Don’t trail her. Just find out what I asked. Quietly.”

Sanzu gave a slight nod. “Got it.” Mikey turned his face back to the window.

He wasn’t looking for leverage. He wasn’t looking for weakness.

He just... couldn’t stop thinking about the way she laughed after hitting the wrong note. The way she asked nothing of him. Not even his name—until he gave it freely.

There was something she carried that wasn’t guilt. It was grief, yes. But not rotten. Not black.

It was tender.

And somewhere deep in that tenderness, he saw a version of himself he couldn’t quite reach anymore. So he stared out the window.

And waited for something that felt real to come back to him again.

_______________________________________________

Sanzu leaned against the edge of Mikey’s desk, his phone in hand, eyes scanning the last few notes he’d taken.

“She’s clean,” he said, tone casual, bored even. “Name’s legit. Works full-time at a private care facility near Sumida. Neighbors say she keeps to herself. Doesn’t talk much unless it’s work-related. Always polite.”

Mikey said nothing, just tapped his fingers slowly on the armrest. Sanzu continued, glancing down at his phone again.

“Married once. A guy named Tsukamoto Riku. High school sweethearts. Got married young. He was a factory worker. Looked like it was going fine for a while.”

A pause. Then Sanzu’s voice shifted—barely noticeable, but a shade colder.

“Everything changed two years ago. She got pregnant. Baby girl was stillborn. Complications. Hospital records line up.”

Mikey’s fingers stopped moving. “She broke,” Sanzu said plainly, with no softness in the words. “But he broke worse. Started drinking. Bad. Real bad. Punched a hole in a wall once. The other time, it was her jaw.”

A long silence. Mikey didn’t flinch.

But something in the room felt colder now.

“She left six months later. No charges pressed. No family left, no friends in the city either. Just started over. Same job. Same routine. Goes to the same grave once a month. Leaves sweets, sometimes flowers. That’s it.”

He tossed the phone lightly onto the table.

“Like I said—she’s clean.”

Mikey didn’t look up. His eyes were fixed on the grain of the wooden desk, unfocused. Sanzu stood there for a beat, waiting for something—anything.

Approval. Dismissal. Maybe even curiosity. But Mikey just sat there.

Eventually, Sanzu shrugged and turned toward the door. Right as he reached it, Mikey spoke.

His voice was quiet. “Thanks.” Sanzu looked over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. But he didn’t say anything else.

He left the room.

Mikey leaned back in the chair, hands steepled in front of his mouth, eyes still locked on nothing. A broken jaw. She had smiled at him.

Laughed, even. Still went to work every day. Still played piano like someone had taught her how to survive with grace. Still offered silence like it was a gift, not a punishment.

He exhaled slowly through his nose. The cigarette made sense now. So did the way she didn’t ask anything of him. She had already lived through someone who took everything.

And survived it.

Mikey wasn’t sure if that made him want to be closer to her—or afraid of what she might see if she got close to him. But one thing was clear now.

He didn’t want to leave her alone in that silence anymore.

_________________________________________________________

It’s late when Mikey returns to the rooftop building.

The city below buzzes in its usual chaos, but up here, the world has a different kind of stillness. One that he’s started craving without realizing it.

He doesn’t expect you to be there tonight.

But the soft sound of piano notes drifts from the open window like a quiet cry wrapped in music.

He stops outside the doorway, leaning his shoulder against the wall, just out of sight. The melody isn’t graceful like before—it’s shaky, like your hands don’t fully trust themselves. Like you're holding back something that wants to spill out.

A soft, broken note. Then another. He listens.

You speak—barely above a whisper, like you don’t even know anyone is listening.

“He came back yesterday…”

Mikey’s eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn’t move.

Your voice is thin, cracking. “He was drunk again. I thought—I thought maybe it would be different. Just to talk. I shouldn’t have opened the door.”

Silence. Just the echo of a few more soft keys, your hands moving slowly over the piano. Then you say it, quiet but with no shame.

“He said it was my fault. That I gave up on her. That I killed her.”

Mikey’s throat feels dry.

Still, he says nothing. Not yet.

“I didn’t fight back,” you whisper, hands frozen on the keys. “I never do. What’s the point?”

Slowly, you turn, finally noticing him standing there. Your breath catches when you see his expression—but you don’t flinch. Don’t try to hide.

The bruise on your cheek is stark in the pale light. Swollen, dark. A smear of dried blood near the corner of your lip. Your left eye still slightly closed from the swelling.

You give him the smallest, broken smile. “Guess I’m not so quiet after all,” you murmur.

He walks toward you. Not fast. Not angry. Just there.

His eyes lock on yours—dark and unreadable, but not cold. Never cold with you. You look like you’re waiting for something—judgment, maybe. Or pity.

But Mikey says nothing. Instead, he sits next to you, the bench creaking under his weight.

You turn back toward the keys, not playing, just pressing one softly. He reaches out—not to touch you, not yet—but to gently close the piano lid.

And then he says, voice steady, quiet: “What did you do after?”

You blink. “I left. I came here.”

He nods slowly, looking straight ahead. “Good.” Another silence passes.

Then—so softly you almost miss it—he says: “He doesn’t get to say what her death meant.”

You close your eyes. A tear slips down without permission. Mikey looks at you then, really looks. Not at the bruise. Not at the tear.

At you.

“You didn’t kill her,” he says. “You carried her.”

You cry, then—not loud or messy, just quiet tears that fall without needing to explain them. And Mikey doesn’t move.

Doesn’t touch you. Just sits next to you, letting the silence say everything you need.

You’ve held on so long. He can do the same, now—for you.

_________________________________________________

The apartment was in a dying part of the city—peeling walls, a leaking streetlamp outside, and a stairwell that stank of piss and smoke. The kind of place that never asked questions because the people inside didn’t want to hear the answers.

Mikey walked the halls alone.

No Sanzu. No guards. Just him in his black coat, steps measured, soft as dust. He stopped at the door. Apartment 302.

The man inside didn’t know he was coming. But he would learn.

Mikey knocked once. Then again—louder.

The door opened halfway.

Riku Tsukamoto.

Messy hair. Shadowed eyes. A mouth that curled like it had something to prove, even before Mikey said a word.

“The hell are you—?”

Mikey didn’t wait.

He stepped forward, fast, pushing the door wide with the heel of his boot, and grabbed Riku by the collar before the man could even think of resisting. The shove was clean. Controlled.

Riku stumbled backward into the wall. “What the f—who are you?!”

Mikey didn’t raise his voice. He just stared. Eyes like ice, unmoving.

“I’m the man you should’ve prayed never found her.”

Riku’s mouth worked soundlessly. Then: “You talkin’ about—her? She’s my—”

“You lost the right to say her name,” Mikey said, low and sharp.

Riku’s eyes flicked toward the kitchen. Maybe for a weapon. Maybe for an escape. Mikey stepped closer.

“She still flinches when someone knocks.”

Silence.

“You did that,” Mikey continued, voice soft but steady. “Not the grief. You.” Riku said nothing now. Just swallowed hard, the alcohol still faint on his breath.

Mikey didn’t punch him. Didn’t raise a hand. He just leaned in closer.

“You’re going to disappear,” he said, voice flat. “You're going to leave the city. And if you ever think about calling her—even once—you’ll wonder how I found you the first time.”

His tone never changed. That scared men more than shouting ever could.

Riku’s lip trembled. He nodded.

“Say it.”

“I—I'll leave. I swear—”

Mikey stepped back, eyes still locked on him like a shadow waiting for the sun to fall. Then he turned. Walked out the door. Didn’t slam it.

Didn’t look back. He made it halfway down the stairs before he stopped, hand resting on the metal rail.

And that’s when it hit him. He hadn’t done this for Bonten.

He hadn’t done it to maintain power, or fear, or respect. He’d done it because someone smiled at him with a bruised face and still sat beside him at the piano.

Because she had let him listen. Because she never asked him for anything—but still gave him peace in return.

So he stood there in the stairwell, the concrete cold beneath his boots, and whispered to himself—

“…Why did I care?”

He didn’t know the answer. But he knew he’d do it again. Without hesitation.

__________________________________________________

You didn’t remember how it started. You just remembered the knock.

The same knock. The one that made your skin tighten, your spine stiffen, your hands freeze mid-motion over your tea cup.

You hadn’t answered. But the lock gave out after the third slam.

He was drunk again. Drunker than before. And louder.

His fists were the first things you saw before you even registered his voice. The world became a blur of bruised noise and splintered light.

You tried to scream once. Only once.

Then you were running. Or stumbling. Or maybe just falling forward.

Blood in your mouth. Your ribs screaming. Your vision swimming through tears and sirens in her head that never reached the streets.

You didn’t even know where you were going.

You just ran.

Shoes skidding on the sidewalk. Hands catching on cold stone walls as the world tilted around you.

Then—just ahead— A dark car. Two silhouettes. One leaned casually against the hood, cigarette between his lips.

The other stood still, almost statuesque, pale hair glinting faintly under the streetlamp. You didn’t think.

Didn’t stop. You made it three steps before your knees gave out.

And then—arms. Strong ones. Fast. Familiar. Not cruel. Not cold.

“Hey—hey—!” Sanzu’s voice, rough with shock. Mikey caught you before you hit the ground. You barely saw his face. Just light hair. Tight jaw. The glint of rage crawling up his throat like smoke.

Blood dripped from your lip onto his coat. You clung to his shirt like it was the last solid thing on Earth.

“Manjiro,” she whispered. Your voice was so small it sounded like someone else.

His arms tightened. Then his voice, low, steady—quiet in a way that terrified more than screaming ever could.

“Sanzu.” A beat.

“Find him.” Sanzu didn’t hesitate.

“Leave no trace,” Mikey added, still holding her, eyes locked on the middle distance like he could already see the man bleeding.

Sanzu was already dialing as he walked away. “Consider it done.” You tried to lift her head, to speak, to explain—but Mikey shook his gently.

“Don’t talk.”

“I—he said—he thought—”

“I know.” He reached up, touched your cheek. His hand trembled just barely. “He thought I was your boyfriend, didn’t he?”

You gave the smallest nod. Mikey didn’t blink.

“Let him keep thinking that. Right to the end.” Your eyes finally closed.

Not from fear this time. But because, for the first time in a long time, you felt safe enough to let go. And in Mikey’s arms, you let the pain settle.

Because if there was one person who could carry it now—

—it was him.

___________________________________________________________________________

You woke slowly.

The kind of slow that made you question if she was really awake at all—if the pain was memory or present. If the silence was safety or something worse.

Then the rib pulsed. Sharp. Deep. And you knew you were still alive. The ceiling above you was unfamiliar—white, high, clinical.

But the room was quiet. Too quiet to be a hospital.

Her eyes moved—just barely—and landed on him.

Manjiro.

Sitting beside the bed in a black chair, coat folded over his lap, posture slouched but alert. He looked like he hadn’t slept. Or maybe hadn’t even moved since she was brought in.

He didn’t look surprised to see her awake. He just leaned forward slightly.

“You’re safe,” he said, softly. Your mouth felt dry. “Where...?”

“Bonten facility. Secure. No one gets in without me knowing.” A pause. “You’ve got two broken ribs. Split lip. Swelling around the eye and shoulder. They said it’ll hurt like hell for a while.”

You winced, slowly shifting her arm. “They were right.” He smiled a little at that.

Not much. But enough. “Don’t try to move. Just rest.”

Your eyes didn’t leave his face. “You stayed?”

Mikey didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned back slightly, arms folding over his chest.

“I did.” A long beat passed.

Then your voice, quieter: “Is he…?” Mikey’s gaze didn’t flicker.

“He won’t come back. Ever.” You closed her eyes. One tear slipped out before you could stop it.

“Why?” she asked. “Why would you do that for me?” His voice came low. Rough.

“I don’t know yet.” That honesty made something in your chest twist.

But not in fear. In understanding. They were both haunted by things they didn’t have words for. Mikey stood then, gently adjusting the blanket over you.

You watched him, too tired to speak again. But when he turned to leave, your hand reached out—shaky, pale fingers wrapping weakly around his sleeve.

“Don’t go yet,” you whispered.

He looked down at you. And for the first time, maybe even to himself

—he didn’t want to.

So he sat.

And the room, bruised in silence, breathed with them both.

_________________________________________________________

The room is still.

No machines beep. No footsteps echo down sterile halls. Just the distant hum of the city outside, softened by thick windows and reinforced walls. Mikey sits beside you, his fingers lightly laced together in his lap. He hasn't said anything since you asked him to stay.

But he hasn't moved either. You're the first to speak again—barely above a whisper.

“I named her Hikari.”

He turns his head slowly, eyes meeting yours. “She didn’t even get to open her eyes,” you say, voice steady now. “But I wanted her to have a name. Something soft. Something… warm.”

Mikey doesn’t speak, but something in his gaze shifts. You swallow.

“My ex never wanted to talk about her. He said it was easier to forget. But I didn’t want to forget. I wanted to remember the little heartbeat they let me hear… just once.”

A pause. Then, softer: “Do you think it’s stupid? To still talk about her like that?”

Mikey’s voice is hoarse.

“No.”

You look at him. He’s quiet for a moment, then says, “I had a brother. And a sister.”

The words feel like old bones being dug up from deep ground. “She was younger. Emma. He was older—Shinichiro. Both gone.”

Your eyes widen slightly. “I didn’t know…” “You’re not supposed to,” he says. “I don’t talk about them.”

“Why tell me?” He looks down at his hands, then back at you.

“Because I think you’re the first person in a long time who’d understand what it feels like… to love someone who’s gone and still carry them every day.”

Your chest tightens, not with pain this time, but with something quieter. Something closer to understanding.

You reach for his hand—not forcefully, not even fully. Just a light brush of your fingers.

He lets you. Your hands sit beside each other on the blanket. Not tangled. Not held.

Just there. Two people who have both lost something too big for words. And somehow, in that stillness, it feels like the first real step forward.

“You’ll stay here.” Mikey’s voice is final.

You sit up in bed, slowly, one arm still pressed to your side where the bruises bloom beneath your skin.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” you say.

He doesn’t even blink. “You’re not.”

It’s the way he says it—like it isn’t up for discussion. Like protecting you is as natural to him now as breathing. You don’t fight it. You nod, small and quiet, and he stands to leave. But just before the door clicks shut behind him, you hear him pause.

“You’ll meet them soon. The others.”

“…The others?” He glances over his shoulder. His expression unreadable. “They’re family. Of a sort. But not like yours.”

Then he’s gone. It starts slowly.

First, Takeomi Akashi. Polite, sharp-eyed, skeptical. He brings you a cup of tea one morning—says it’s from Mikey, but doesn’t hide the way he watches you as you sip it.

“You play piano?” he asks eventually, arms crossed.

“Sometimes.”

“Hm.” His brow twitches. “Haven’t seen Mikey this still in weeks.”

He doesn’t elaborate. He doesn’t need to.

__________________________________________________

Then Ran Haitani swaggered in one afternoon, twirling his signature baton, grinning like he already knew everything about you before you even said hello.

“So you’re the one,” he said, voice smooth like wine. “Didn’t think you were real.”

“I am.”

He chuckled, then leaned closer across the table where you sat. “Be careful, pretty girl. Our boss doesn’t let people in. And if he’s letting you in, that means something’s shifting.”

Behind him, Rindou stood quiet, frowning.

“Ran,” he muttered, “cut it out.”

“I’m just saying hi.”

“You’re poking a sleeping lion.”

Ran winked at you. “A lion in love is still dangerous, sweetheart.”

You didn’t ask what that meant.

But later, when you saw Mikey standing in the courtyard alone, coat fluttering gently in the breeze, you realized something:

They weren’t afraid for you.

They were afraid of what you meant to him. Because Mikey was changing.

He was softer with you.

But the softness didn’t make him any less terrifying.

It just made him more human. And for men like Bonten’s top dogs, that was scarier than anything else.

The rooftop was surprisingly quiet for a Bonten building.

You sat on a bench by the edge, bundled in a borrowed hoodie and breathing in the dusk. Your ribs still ached, but the air felt clean up here. Easier to take in. Footsteps approached behind you—soft but confident.

You didn’t turn right away.

You already knew who it was.

“Didn’t think you’d be out here alone,” Sanzu said, his voice a little rough from a recent smoke.

“I needed air.”

He came to stand beside you, eyes sweeping across the skyline, pink hair glowing faintly in the fading sun.

“You healing alright?”

You nodded.

“Good.” He paused. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Your brows drew together. “I didn’t ask to be.”

He let out a short laugh. “No. But you’re still here. And he wants you to be.” You looked at him now, more directly.

Sanzu wasn’t grinning the way he usually did. There was no teasing glint. Just a quiet seriousness, sharp as broken glass.

“You don’t like me,” you said.

“I don’t know you.” He flicked his lighter open. “That’s the problem.”

You didn’t answer.

Sanzu inhaled his cigarette deeply, then let the smoke drift out slow. “Mikey hasn’t looked at someone like this in years. Not since… well. Doesn’t matter. The point is, you’ve got his attention. And that’s not easy to come by.”

“That’s not my fault.”

“I didn’t say it was.” He paused. “But it means something.”

You watched him, careful.

“Why are you really out here, Sanzu?”

He met your eyes.

“I wanted to see what kind of girl gets past the walls Mikey’s built with bodies.”

The air stretched thin between you.

“I didn’t try to,” you said softly. “He just… sat beside me one day.”

Sanzu laughed, bitter and brief. “Yeah. That sounds like him.”

A beat.

Then, quieter: “Just… don’t hurt him.”

You blinked.

It was the first honest thing he’d said all evening.

“I’ve seen what he becomes when he breaks,” Sanzu muttered, voice lower now. “It’s not something you ever want to be near.” He flicked the ash from his cigarette and turned away, already heading for the stairwell.

But just before he disappeared, he looked back over his shoulder.

“Still. He chose you.”

Then he was gone.

Leaving you in the fading light.

And for the first time since you arrived, you wondered just how deep this went.

And what it would cost to stay.

____________________________________________________

Later that night, you were back in your room.

The lights were dim, the air warm, and someone had left a new pair of slippers beside the bed. You sat by the window, knees tucked up carefully to avoid the ache in your ribs, watching the city lights flicker.

The door opened with barely a sound.

You didn’t turn.

You knew it was him. Mikey stepped inside, wordless, and crossed the room until he stood a few feet away. He didn’t sit. Just watched you for a long moment in silence.

Then: “Sanzu talked to you.”

You nodded once. “What did he say?” You looked up at him.

“That I shouldn’t hurt you.”

Mikey's jaw shifted.

He came a little closer, resting a hand on the wall near your shoulder—but he didn’t touch you. Not yet. His presence felt heavier tonight. Like something coiled too tightly beneath his skin.

“And will you?” he asked.

You blinked. “Hurt you?”

A small shrug. “People do.”

You tilted your head, studying him in the low light.

“I don’t want to.” Mikey’s eyes dropped to your bandaged wrist. Then your cheek.

You watched something flicker there—regret, maybe. Or restraint.

“You stayed,” you said softly. “I did.”

“You protect me.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

He hesitated.

Not because he didn’t have an answer—

—but because he didn’t know which one was true.

So many reasons ran through his mind:

• Because no one protected Emma.

• Because you looked at him like a person, not a king or a monster.

• Because he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else holding your pain.

But all he said was:

“I don’t know.” You smiled, small and sad.

“That’s okay.”

He sat down finally, beside you, knees close but not touching.

Outside, the city breathed on. And for the first time, Mikey realized:

He didn’t need a reason to stay. He just wanted to.

Even if he couldn’t say the word for what this was—

—he was already too deep to walk away.

The hallway was quiet when you stepped out of your room.

Mikey stood outside, leaning against the wall, arms folded—like he had no intention of leaving. “I’m not tired,” you said, voice low.

He looked at you.

Then glanced at the clock.

“It’s nearly 2 a.m.”

“Does Bonten have a curfew?” He gave the faintest smile. “You’ll get in trouble.”

You shrugged, your bandaged arms still healing. “Not if I’m with you.”

That made him blink.

Then he pushed off the wall with a quiet sigh. “Come on, then.”

You walked in silence for a while—through back alleys and side streets, the city sleeping all around you. Everything was wet from an earlier drizzle. Pavement shining. Neon lights dripping reflections in puddles. You inhaled deeply, your breath misting. “Smells like rain.”

“It’s not supposed to storm again tonight.”

You grinned at him. “You’re very confident for someone without an umbrella.”

He gave you a side glance.

And then—as if summoned by your smile—the clouds broke open again.

Soft at first. Then heavier. Then pouring.

You laughed and tilted your head back, letting it soak through your hoodie. “I knew it.” Mikey blinked at you, standing very still, like the rain was some foreign concept.

“Come on,” you said, stepping toward him.

“What are you doing?”

You grabbed his hand, warm despite the chill. “Dance with me.”

He looked at you like you’d lost your mind.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t dance.”

“Then this is a perfect time to start.”

He didn’t move.

You didn’t let go. You just began to sway in the rain, slow and silly, your grip light on his.

The street around you shimmered. Water dripped from his white hair, from the tip of your nose.

“Don’t think about it,” you whispered. “Just feel it.” Mikey stood there, frozen.

Then—He took one step closer.

Just enough for you to wrap his other hand in yours.

You pulled gently, guiding him.

He let you. His movements were stiff. Hesitant.

But your smile didn’t waver.

You laughed, spinning once under his arm before bumping into his chest.

He caught you, barely.

And something in him cracked. The tiniest smile touched his lips—so faint it could’ve been imagined.

But it was real.

You looked up at him, soaked and glowing and so alive.

And for a moment, the storm didn’t matter. The blood, the pain, the past—it was all gone.

There was just you, dancing in the rain like the world hadn’t broken you both.

And Mikey—

For the first time in years—

—felt peace.

He didn’t say it.

He wouldn’t even let himself think the word.

But deep down, something inside him whispered:

I love her like this.

________________________________________________________

The rain slowed.

Your hair clung to your face. Your chest rose with soft breaths.

You looked up at him like you had all the time in the world.

“Come on,” you whispered, voice gentle now, worn from the cold. “Let’s go back before we catch something.” He nodded.

Didn’t trust himself to speak.

You reached for his hand again—not to pull him, this time, but just to hold it.

And he let you.

As you walked back through the empty streets, water dripping from your clothes and silence between you, Mikey’s mind didn’t spiral like it usually did. He just thought:

If this is what it means to live... I forgot. And maybe—

Just maybe—

You could remind him again.

_____________________________________________

The door clicked shut behind you, soft and final.

Your wet footsteps echoed against the polished tile floor of the Bonten guest wing. Everything smelled faintly like cold rain and something green blooming too late in the season.

You let go of his hand first.

Your fingers had gone pink from the cold.

“Bathroom’s there,” Mikey murmured, nodding toward the small adjoining room.

“You go first,” you offered.

He glanced at you. Your hair was soaked, hoodie clinging to you, water dripping gently onto the floor.

“You’ll freeze.”

“So will you.”

He sighed through his nose and peeled off the outer layer of his jacket. He handed it to you. “At least get out of that.”

You took it with quiet thanks and stepped away to change, leaving him alone with the sound of rain still whispering on the window.

When you came back out in one of the oversized Bonten T-shirts, Mikey had already changed—white tee, dry sweats, barefoot. Hair towel-dried but still sticking to his forehead a little.

He looked… human.

“You have extra towels?” you asked softly.

He nodded and handed you one without a word.

You towel-dried your hair sitting cross-legged on the bed, moving slowly so your ribs wouldn’t ache. Mikey sat across from you in the chair by the window, arms loosely draped over his knees.

It was quiet again. Comfortable. For once, not heavy.

“Thank you,” you said after a while, eyes flicking to his.

“For what?”

“For going with me.”

He shrugged, but his eyes didn’t leave your face.

“It was… the first time I’ve danced since I was a kid.”

Mikey let that settle.

And then said, almost too quietly, “You smiled like you weren’t hurting.”

You stilled.

“Even if just for a second,” he added.

You looked down at your hands. “Isn’t that the point? To forget long enough to breathe again?”

He didn’t answer. Not with words.

But his gaze never left you.

He was trying to memorize that look on you—half-wet hair, bruises fading, warmth returning to your skin.

You looked up again and caught him staring.

A soft smile curled your lips. “What?”

He blinked once. Then, a beat later, “Nothing.”

But you knew.

You both did.

And when you stood to hang the towel by the bathroom door, brushing past him, he caught the faintest scent of your skin. Clean, rain-soaked, soft.

It stayed with him long after the door clicked shut behind you again.

______________________________________________

Sunlight streamed in through the tall windows, golden and slow.

The rain from last night had left everything washed and silent.

You padded barefoot into the kitchen of the Bonten safehouse wing, wrapped in one of the oversized hoodies Mikey had given you. Your bruises were fading. The ache in your ribs was still there, but dull now.

Mikey was already there.

Sitting on the couch, hair still damp from the shower, barefoot, holding a cup of coffee with both hands like he needed it to stay tethered to this world.

You liked seeing him like this.

Real. Unarmored.

“You didn’t sleep much,” you said gently, approaching.

He didn’t look at you, but his voice was softer than usual. “Didn’t want to.”

You tilted your head. “Bad dreams?”

He didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

You set a cup of tea on the table in front of him and sat nearby. Not too close. Just enough.

He glanced at it, then at you. “That for me?”

You gave him a quiet smile. “No, I brought it for the ghost that lives in your trauma.”

A pause. Then—

A small breath of a laugh from Mikey. Almost too quiet to hear.

He reached for the tea.

______________________________________________________

You didn’t talk much that morning.

You didn’t need to.

You leaned your head back, closed your eyes in the sun. He sat beside you, quiet, but not distant.

For once, nothing was heavy.

Not grief.

Not guilt.

Just the stillness of morning, and the soft sound of your breathing.

Later, you walked into the common area to find Sanzu and Rindou arguing over something pointless.

“Morning,” you said, moving past them to grab water.

Sanzu glanced over, raising a brow. “Look who’s comfortable.”

You raised your water bottle in a mock toast. “Your couch is softer than my last apartment. I’m not complaining.”

Rindou smirked. “You’re the first person I’ve seen Mikey tolerate this long in years.”

“That’s because I don’t ask him to talk,” you replied casually.

Sanzu’s grin sharpened. “He doesn’t just tolerate you, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Oh, we’re saying it.”

Kokonoi passed by then, sipping coffee, and added, “He skipped two meetings just to bring you soup when you were knocked out. You think he does that for us?”

“Rindou once had a bullet wound and Mikey told him to walk it off,” Sanzu said helpfully.

Rindou nodded in solemn agreement.

You laughed softly, sipping your water. “Well, maybe I’m just special.”

“You are,” came a quiet voice from behind.

You all turned.

Mikey had walked in, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable. But his eyes were on you.

You blinked. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

“You weren’t supposed to.”

And then, like it was nothing, he walked to your side and gently touched your back as he passed, steering you toward the hallway.

Sanzu gave a low whistle behind you.

But Mikey didn’t look back.

_____________________________________________

The morning had barely settled when you found Mikey in one of the smaller briefing rooms—alone, seated at the table with a file open in front of him, a cup of untouched coffee going cold beside his hand.

He looked up when you entered.

“You busy?” you asked.

He shook his head.

You stepped inside, closing the door behind you. “Didn’t see you at breakfast.”

“Didn’t feel like it.”

There was something in his voice—an edge, quiet and tired.

You didn’t push.

Just walked to the other side of the table and looked down at the open file.

A photo paper-clipped to the top—some middle-aged executive in a tailored suit, eyes that screamed entitlement.

You raised an eyebrow. “Client?”

“Investor.”

“Looks punchable.”

A small smirk pulled at the corner of Mikey’s mouth.

“You’re not wrong,” he murmured. Then he paused. “I want you in the room.”

You blinked. “What?”

He met your eyes, steady now. “The client—he likes… distractions. Pretty women. If we walk in without one, we lose the upper hand.”

“So I’m bait?”

He was quiet.

Your voice softened, though. “It’s okay, Manjiro. I just want to hear you say it honestly.”

He stared for a second too long.

Then: “You’re not bait. You’re leverage.”

You tilted your head. “And what if he’s disrespectful?”

“I’ll handle it.”

Your lips curved. “Will you stay calm?”

“No.”

That made you laugh.

A quiet sound that cut through the tension between you.

You reached out and slid the folder closer, scanning the contents. “Fine. I’ll go.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know.”

You looked up again. “But I want to.”

He looked at you for a long beat. “Why?”

“Because you asked,” you said simply. “And that’s rare.”

That silenced him.

The air felt heavier now, but not in a bad way. More like something had shifted—finally.

You stood, brushing your fingers lightly along the edge of the table. “When do we leave?”

“Two hours.”

You nodded. “Then I’ll go look dangerous.”

You turned to leave, but paused at the door.

“Hey, Manjiro?”

He glanced up.

“Don’t worry. If he crosses a line, I’ll make you look calm.”

Then you walked out, leaving him alone with your words—and the way they settled deep, right under his ribs.

______________________________________________

Two hours later, you were ready.

You had chosen an outfit simple enough to blend in, yet sharp enough to make your presence undeniable: a sleek black dress, fitted perfectly but not too tight, modest but somehow still daring in its simplicity. The colors complimented you—cool tones that made your skin glow. Your hair was loosely pinned back, a few stray curls falling delicately around your face.

But it wasn’t just the outfit.

It was how you moved. How you held yourself, like you already knew the game and the rules—and you weren’t afraid of playing.

When Mikey saw you, his chest tightened without him understanding why. You weren’t wearing anything special, nothing that screamed attention. Yet you had the kind of quiet grace that drew every eye in the room.

And, god, the way you stood beside him like it was the most natural thing in the world. No fear. No hesitation.

And that made him…

…unsettled.

Mikey stood still for a moment, his gaze flicking over you, a little too intense for anyone to notice. But his heart had started to beat faster. Something in him wanted to keep you away from the eyes that had already begun to linger on you—on the curve of your neck, the way your dress fell just so, the way you carried yourself like you didn’t even know how beautiful you were.

But Mikey knew.

And for a split second, it made him uneasy.

He could see it in the others’ eyes, too.

Sanzu raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed, but also… a little too interested.

Rindou smirked like he knew exactly how this would play out.

Kokonoi, ever the strategist, didn’t say anything—but the flicker of approval in his gaze told Mikey all he needed to know.

Mikey clenched his jaw.

You had no idea the storm you were about to walk into.

___________________________________________________

When the door opened and you walked toward the car, Mikey’s hand instinctively reached for you, fingers brushing your wrist before his arm slipped around your waist, pulling you just a fraction closer. It was casual, almost like it was nothing, but the message was clear.

You didn’t say anything—didn’t need to. The way you looked up at him was the only response he needed. Your lips barely moved when you spoke.

“Got my back?” you asked, voice soft but steady.

Mikey’s eyes narrowed slightly, but there was something in the way he looked at you now. Something possessive. Almost protective.

“Always,” he muttered under his breath.

He didn’t know why he said it.

But something inside of him stirred at the idea of someone else looking at you the way they did.

_________________________________________________________

As you stepped out into the crisp, cool air of the city, the car waiting for you down the street, the others flanking you like shadows, Mikey’s grip on your waist didn’t loosen.

Sanzu raised an eyebrow. “You really don’t want anyone looking at her, huh?”

Mikey didn’t answer.

Instead, he made sure you were close enough, just far enough from the others, but not too far to be out of reach. His hand on you was almost an anchor—something to hold him down, keep the simmering storm inside from exploding.

You smiled up at him, that soft, knowing smile.

And Mikey’s heart did something strange.

He didn’t know what it was.

But whatever it was… he didn’t mind it.

When you reached the car, Mikey opened the door for you, never once letting you out of his hold. He leaned in slightly, voice low.

“I’ll take care of everything. Just stay close.”

Your smile didn’t waver. “I trust you.”

That was all.

______________________________________________________

The car ride felt longer than it should have.

Mikey sat next to you, his arm resting along the back of the seat, just close enough to you that he could feel the heat from your body. The tension between you was subtle, but it clung to the air like static electricity, making everything feel a little too real.

He could tell you noticed.

You weren’t saying much, just gazing out the window, your fingers absentmindedly brushing over the hem of your dress. He tried to focus on the upcoming meeting, trying to steel himself for the inevitable—discussions, negotiations, possible manipulation—but his thoughts kept slipping back to you.

The way your hair fell softly around your face. The curve of your neck. The way you’d stood in the room earlier, unafraid, unfazed by the glances that were being thrown your way.

You were too calm.

Too composed. Too beautiful.

And that made Mikey uneasy in a way he wasn’t used to.

His eyes flicked to you again, lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“Why are you so quiet?” you asked, your voice pulling him out of his thoughts.

Mikey shifted uncomfortably, turning his head to look at you more fully. “Just thinking.”

You didn’t ask him what about.

But you tilted your head, eyes soft, watching him.

The silence in the car felt heavy. Too heavy.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared out the window, trying to shake the weight in his chest.

It wasn’t just the client.

It was you.

And he didn’t know why it bothered him so much.

But when he caught himself stealing glances at you again, his stomach tightened.

Don’t think about it.

Don’t think about how she makes you feel.

“Are you nervous?” you asked quietly, your voice like a thread pulling at the edge of his thoughts.

He blinked, surprised by the question.

“Nervous?” Mikey scoffed. “No.”

But the way he said it was a little too fast. A little too defensive.

You smiled faintly, almost knowingly.

“You’re lying,” you murmured.

He glanced at you again, but there was something in your expression now. A quiet understanding. A softness that made the whole world feel like it was just the two of you, stuck in this little bubble in the backseat.

“I’m not nervous,” Mikey repeated, a little more firmly this time.

But something inside of him wasn’t convinced.

And he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe it wasn’t the client he was worried about at all.

The car continued down the quiet streets, the only sound the hum of the engine and the distant chatter of the radio. Mikey was half-tempted to reach out and pull you closer, but he didn’t.

Instead, he kept his hand resting on the armrest, as if he could just will his mind to focus.

But it wasn’t working.

His thoughts wandered again, back to the meeting. The way the client had looked at you—like you were some kind of object.

Mikey clenched his fist.

He couldn’t stand it.

Every time that guy looked at you like that, Mikey’s pulse quickened. It was possessiveness, pure and simple, and he knew it. But what was worse was that he wasn’t just angry at the client. He was angry at himself.

Because he wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

He wasn’t supposed to care about you like this.

And the fact that he did?

It was… uncomfortable.

But that wasn’t the only thing.

It was the way you trusted him. The way you always looked at him like he was more than just the man in charge, more than just Bonten’s leader.

You saw him in a way no one else did. And that… that made him feel something he couldn’t put into words.

Your smile, the way you spoke, the quiet strength in your voice—it was like nothing else in his life mattered when you were around. You made him feel human, not just the monster everyone thought he was.

And that was the scariest part.

He didn’t know how to handle it.

____________________________________________________

As the car pulled closer to the meeting location, Mikey glanced at you again, his voice quiet and unsure.

“Just… stick with me, okay? Don’t let them get to you.”

You nodded, the same soft smile on your lips. “I’ll be fine.”

He looked at you, his heart beating faster again.

But this time, he didn’t fight it.

As the car came to a stop in front of the building, Mikey opened the door for you, holding out his hand. But before you could take it, he lingered, his eyes searching yours. For a second, there was a silent understanding between you.

Something unspoken, but strong.

And when you placed your hand in his, his fingers tightened just a little too much.

__________________________________________________

The meeting room was all glass and ego.

Polished floors, leather seats, a long table already set with water bottles and empty contracts waiting to be signed. The client—Hirano—stood from his seat as you entered, his suit perfectly tailored, his smile too sharp, too knowing.

His gaze landed on you the moment you stepped inside.

And it lingered.

“Ah,” Hirano said smoothly, stepping forward to shake Mikey’s hand. “I see you brought… entertainment.”

Your expression didn’t shift, but Mikey caught the slight tension in your jaw. He saw it. Felt it.

Sanzu moved to your side instantly, face unreadable, but his eyes were already assessing Hirano like a threat.

Mikey kept his face blank. “She’s here because I want her here.”

Hirano chuckled. “I didn’t realize Bonten had started mixing business with pleasure.”

You finally spoke, your voice calm but edged in iron. “That’s a dangerous assumption.”

The client blinked at you, clearly not expecting you to speak.

“I’m not part of the deal,” you continued, stepping forward with all the quiet confidence in the world. “So if you’re only signing because of how I look, maybe we should reconsider the terms.”

The room went still for a moment.

Rindou raised his eyebrows slightly, clearly impressed. Kokonoi just sat back, watching with quiet amusement.

But Mikey?

He watched you like you were something untouchable.

Unshakable.

The client gave a fake smile. “She’s feisty.”

Mikey’s voice was low and sharp. “You don’t get to talk about her.”

Hirano hesitated. “It’s just business—”

“No,” Mikey interrupted, stepping forward. His tone didn’t rise, but the weight of it changed the air in the room.

“She’s mine.”

Everyone froze.

Even you.

It wasn’t a planned declaration. It just slipped out. Heavy. Honest. Unavoidable.

Hirano blinked. “Yours?”

Mikey’s hand slid around your waist again, not just for show this time. Not to protect a business move or intimidate a rival. It was his way of drawing a line. Not between you and the client.

But between himself—and his own denial.

“Yes,” Mikey said again, steady now. “So if you want to finish this deal, you’ll keep your eyes—and your mouth—off her.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

But Hirano didn’t argue.

He just sat down, suddenly reminded that Bonten’s leader wasn’t just a ghost in a white suit—he was a storm waiting to break.

______________________________________________________

Later, as you walked out of the building, you didn’t say a word about it. Not the client. Not the way Mikey’s hand had never left your waist. Not the word he’d used.

Mine.

But as you reached the car, you glanced up at him.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

Mikey met your eyes.

“I know.”

But he didn’t let go.

______________________________________________________

The city lights spill through the tall windows of Bonten’s penthouse, casting soft gold across the floor as you pad barefoot across the cool marble. The meeting is over, the tension long gone—but one word still hangs between you like a ghost in the room.

Mine.

He hasn’t brought it up since.

Neither have you.

But it follows you anyway—through dinner, through silence, through the way he lingers behind you when you make tea, the way his gaze doesn’t stray far. Something has shifted—and you can feel it in your chest like gravity.

Mikey sits on the wide couch, a loose shirt hanging off his frame, white hair messy from the wind. He looks… tired. But more than that, he looks conflicted.

You stand a few steps away, sipping from your cup, studying him.

“You meant it, didn’t you?” you ask quietly.

His head turns slowly toward you. No confusion in his eyes. Just… hesitation.

He doesn’t answer.

You take another step closer, setting your cup down on the table.

“What you said back there,” you continue, voice low. “When you told him I was yours.”

Still, silence.

But something flickers in his face—vulnerability, almost too raw to look at.

He leans forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tight. “I didn’t plan to say that,” he mutters. “It just… came out.”

You don’t push. You just wait.

He exhales, then leans back again, eyes unfocused.

“I’ve been trying not to feel anything. For a long time. It’s easier that way. Safer.”

His voice cracks just a little.

“But with you…” he swallows, “I feel things I don’t understand. You make me forget how broken I am. And that’s terrifying.”

You move closer, your knees brushing his as you sit beside him.

“And what do you feel now?” you ask, gently, carefully.

Mikey turns his head slowly, meeting your gaze.

“I want you close,” he says softly. “I want you safe. I want to hear you laugh, even if I don’t deserve to. I want you to stay. And that scares the hell out of me.”

You don’t say anything at first.

You just reach up, hand brushing against his cheek, thumb grazing his skin. His eyes flutter shut at the touch—like it grounds him.

“You don’t have to deserve me, Mikey,” you say with a small, warm smile. “Just be honest with me. With yourself.”

He opens his eyes again, and for the first time, you see it—clarity. Something settling behind his tired expression. Something like peace.

He reaches out slowly, pulling you in, one arm wrapping around your back until you’re tucked against his side, your head on his shoulder, your fingers still resting on his chest.

“I’m trying,” he whispers.

“I know,” you reply. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

__________________________________________________________

Your room is dimly lit, the only light coming from the window where the city glows like stars that have fallen too far.

You walk in first, slow and thoughtful, your hand still linked with Mikey’s. He doesn’t let go—not once—as if part of him fears that if he loosens his grip, you might fade from him again.

You turn to face him once you’re inside, your eyes searching his.

“You okay?” you ask softly.

He gives a faint nod, stepping closer. “Yeah… I just don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“You’re not.”

That’s all it takes.

You open your arms, and he moves into them instinctively. You lie down on the bed, your bodies curving to fit, like you’ve been doing this for years. Your head nestled against his chest, one of his arms cradling your waist. The other finds your hand, fingers curling around his.

Silence stretches between you—but it isn’t empty. It’s full.

His heart beats steadily beneath your cheek, slower than you expected. Calm. Or maybe… calm because you’re there.

Mikey presses his forehead to your hair. “You’re warm.”

You smile. “So are you.”

He laughs, just a breath of sound.

You stay like that for a while. The weight of the night slips off you both, piece by piece, replaced by something quieter. Something that feels like… healing.

Then you tilt your head up, looking at him.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask.

His eyes widen, just a little. Like the question startles him.

But he nods, slow. “Yeah.”

You lean in gently, your hand resting on his chest as your lips find his. It’s soft—uncertain at first, searching. But he responds quickly, like he’s been holding back for too long. His fingers slide into your hair, pulling you closer as your mouths move together, slow and warm and full of everything you haven’t said.

When you part, foreheads touching, neither of you speaks.

He opens his eyes.

You’re smiling.

And for the first time in years, Mikey smiles back without even realizing it.

The kiss deepens in the silence, unhurried and full of tension finally released.

Your fingers move gently through his hair—so soft under your touch—and Mikey lets out the quietest sound against your lips, one he doesn’t even mean to make. Like he’s surprised by how good it feels to be touched with no expectations. No fear.

Just… held.

You shift, laying halfway over him now, your leg brushing against his, your hand resting lightly on the side of his neck as your mouths meet again—slower this time. Lingering. As if you’re trying to memorize each other, piece by piece.

When you pause, you stay close, eyes half-lidded, lips parted slightly.

Mikey’s fingers find your waist, holding you steady—not to pull you closer, not to control, but just… to feel you’re real.

His voice is barely above a whisper. “This doesn’t feel like something I should have.”

You trace your thumb across his cheek. “But you do. I’m right here.”

He looks at you for a long time. Not your face—not exactly. He’s looking at something behind it. Past it. Like he’s trying to figure out how someone like you could exist in his world. In his arms.

“I’m scared I’ll ruin it,” he says. Quiet. Raw.

You lean down, pressing a kiss just beneath his eye. Then to his jaw. Then back to his lips.

“Then we’ll go slow,” you whisper between kisses. “And we’ll take care of each other.”

His hands move again, one splaying across your back, the other rising to tangle in your hair as your kisses grow slower, deeper. Not rushed. Not desperate. Just present.

Your body molds to his like a puzzle piece that has always been missing, and for the first time, Mikey doesn’t feel like something broken. He feels wanted. Held. Loved, even if you haven’t said it out loud yet.

And maybe he isn’t ready to say it either.

But he feels it.

Every second your mouth touches his. Every breath you give him in return. Every time you whisper his name like it means something.

He presses his forehead to yours, your breaths mingling in the small space between.

“Stay with me tonight,” he says, almost inaudible. “Just like this.”

You don’t even hesitate. “Always.”

And you hold each other in the dark, hearts open, bodies close, nothing between you but soft fabric and the comfort you never thought you’d deserve.

_____________________________________________________

The halls of Bonten headquarters fall silent when you walk through.

You wear no crown, no bloodstained ring, no weapon at your hip.

You don’t need any of it.

You are Lady Y/N, wife of the Boss himself, and the heart behind Bonten’s iron machinery. What Mikey rules with fire and silence, you rule with presence. Steady. Watchful. Untouchable.

A few lieutenants bow their heads as you pass. Others simply step aside, knowing better than to get in your way. Your name doesn’t need to be shouted. It moves in whispers and deference, in the way even Sanzu shuts up when you raise an eyebrow.

You get the message just after breakfast:

Come to the strategy room. Bring the coffee you make—not the staff’s crap. – M.

You already know what this is.

When you arrive, it’s all exactly as expected: Mikey lounging like a bored cat at the head of the room, his lieutenants in their usual spots, and a hot cup of coffee waiting in your hand.

The room quiets as you enter.

“My Lady,” Kokonoi greets with a nod, polite as always.

“Looking radiant, as usual,” Ran drawls, only half joking.

Rindou gives you a quiet “Good morning.”

And Sanzu—messy as ever, sprawled in his chair—just gives you a wolfish grin. “Guess the boss couldn’t stand another five minutes without you.”

Mikey doesn’t even pretend to deny it.

He holds out his hand. “Sit.”

You roll your eyes, but walk to him anyway, handing him the coffee before sitting neatly at his side—your seat now, unofficial but permanent. The others don’t dare question it.

Mikey takes a slow sip, then turns toward you, his voice softer than anyone else ever hears it.

“You free today?”

Your brow lifts. “Did you call me here for a meeting or a date?”

“Yes,” he says simply.

The men around the table smirk but stay quiet. They know better than to mock the bond between you—because behind Mikey’s sharp silences and blank stares, you’re the only one who can bring a glimmer of life back to his expression.

You cross one leg over the other and turn slightly toward him. “You know calling Lady Y/N into meetings just to keep yourself entertained is technically misuse of executive time, right?”

He leans closer. “I like misusing time when it comes to you.”

You blink. Once. Then smile.

And the entire room—murderers, strategists, men who’ve burned empires to the ground—knows: you own him.

But more than that…

You earned it.

[pfpanimes]

⌕ tokyo revengers - manjiro sano.

like or reblog if you save/use.

[morning-sun-brah]

Psst, @sha-biest and I are participating in the @tmnt-ocxcanon-comp with Hassan and Mikey! All art is by my liebchen, and all the writing is by me!

(art by @sha-biest)

Hassan is... Hassan. He's a bit of an asshole but he's got the spirit. Mikey is here to, as Sha says, "make sure he doesn't embarrass himself further (it will happen)."

Bonus...

(art by @sha-biest)

Their hair is full of secrets.

[68spidey]

excuse the ugly ref His name is Trinket and he was initially a DND character but as of recently I've also been using him for tmnt related stuff, so I thought it would be fun to see what you do with him. Feel free to do whatever you would depict his personality to be as I don't have it fully flushed out yet, and how he would interact with your characters! He is in his early to mid 20s if you were wondering! But with I do have so far, imagine his personality reminiscent of rise!donnie if he were raised by a rich single dad and if he were more emotionally gatekept im shy whenever doing these so otherwise don't mind me 🏃‍♂️

"Ugly ref" and proceeds to send me one of the neatest things I've ever seen

I feel like I'm most definitely going to revisit this gorgeous dragon 🫶 💜 🧡

[kristkx]

My version of Shinigami in rottmnt! I tried to keep her vibe and her style, but add something new.

Shinigami is a yokai. She used to live in the witches' quarter, studying magic, but because of her bad past, she decided to make a fresh start and live in New York City.

Shini was trained magic by Sapphira, Krystal's older sister, so Krystal and Shini have been best friends since childhood.

Shinigami has been well trained in magic that she doesn't need an amulet/brooch to have the appearance of a human, she can take it on her own. So she often walks around in human form, but when she's in a hidden/underground city, she transforms back into her true form.

Shinigami is also a member of the Foot Clan, being an active participant in all of their events and battles.

Fun fact, my version of Shinigami doesn't like men due to bad experiences in the past. But that doesn't stop Mikey, as he wants to win Shinigami's heart.

[beanieable]

Multiverse of Tao

I probably mentioned it before but I decided to give my TMNT OC, Tao, a few more versions! I love it when people make TMNT OCs and make different versions of them.

As it stands we have 2003, 2012, Bayverse and Rise.

Rise is actually the first one I made, but it really escalated from there.

I’ll go into detail under the cut!

2003

This Tao is a prince, they were born with only one arm. They attend the Battle Nexus and are almost instantly infatuated with Mikey. They like his attitude.

Tao sneaks off to talk to Mikey between battles and they get along pretty well. Mikey isn't aware Tao is royalty. The two flirt a lot. Raph hates it so much he leaves them alone.

When Mikey wins the Nexus. Tao congratulates him. Mikey jokingly says he should get a kiss for winning. He gets a kiss in the cheek. On their way home Splinter reveals that Tao is a prince.

Eventually Tao and Mikey end up together. It's a bit complicated since Tao is a prince, the crown prince even, but they make it work.

2012

This version is a cat alien. Tao is introduced in season 4 while they're in space. The gang end up in Tao's home planet. An ice planet. They are a friendly planet to outsiders but due to the climate every new visitor has to wait until they're allowed to leave their ships. They are met with guards and they need to answer a few questions. The planet is friendly, but they're not about to let in everyone. But the gang passes easily. Also, this Tao was born with only one arm.

Before they are allowed down their travel guide, that's a custom, arrives with their warm clothes. It's Tao. When he enters Leo is down bad. This boy is hit with love at first sight. They eventually end up on earth permanently and start dating Leo.

Bay

The only human Tao. They were born with two arms. When he was a kid, he and his parents were in a car crash and in said crash their parents died and Tao lost their arm. Somehow in the hospital, with no other relatives, Shredder gets hold of them.

Tao works for the Foot and get a prosthetic arm.

Sometime after the first movie they meet Donnie, not knowing how he is or that he's a turtle, and they talk. It becomes a regular thing. Eventually Tao and Donnie find out and Donnie gives Tao hope for a better live.

In their escape Tao loses the prosthetic, Donnie is working on a new one. And after Tao does some much needed healing (and therapy) they end up with Donnie.

Here’s the big change for them. They get turned into a mutant cat. Since they leave the Foot between both movies, they’re present for the second one and somewhere in that mess they come in contact with mutagen - and now they’re a cat mutant. An orange cat by the way since human Tao is a ginger. And yes, he embodies the chaos of an orange cat. 🙃 When Donnie offers to working a way to turn them back, they refuse. They view this as a new start for him, also he got used to their new body pretty quickly.

Rise

“old“ design

A cat yokai that grew up in the Hidden City. They make cloaking brooches for a living and live with their father and sister, Yue. They lost their arm in an accident protecting Yue. Thanks to Draxun Tao lived the loss of their arm. Later on he’s a big part of developing prosthetics that are powered with mystic. His electricity based mystics made development a lot easier, even if their reserves are quite limited.

Eventually they end up dating their best friends Raph. Tao falls first, but Raph fell harder. When they’re older they end up adopting three kids. Toki, Akira and Mia. See here. None of that was planned.

As you can see, every turtle has their very own Tao. 😌

[egomanicplanet]

rottmnt ocs updatte

kuro is now name amos and themes after a magpie

and lee is now named luke because it means light

[immedealwithit9855]

Get That Prize

Bayverse Michaelangelo x Charlie (my oc)

The day was filled with laughter and mischief as the 2 youngins of the group were in the tartaruga truck playing arcade games recently installed.

They created a game called "Strip Score." The point of the game is to score the highest on the arcade games without having to remove any clothing. The player with the lowest scores strips away their clothing, piece by piece. They went around and around that truck trying to outdo each other's scores. The victor showing to be Mikey as Charlie's score was too low. She stripped away her clothing until she was down to her underwear. Mikey was still in his pants and underwear, basking in his obvious victory.

Charlie got distracted looking at Mikey's nunchuk seat. She was gonna lose the challenge anyway so she started asking questions while Mikey kept playing the game.

"Hey, Mikey. Whats this seat here?" She asked.

"Aw, that's Nunchuks Giganticus! I accidentally broke those during a high speed chase with the Foot Clan. Only used em' for 30 seconds!" He quips, cringing at the memory of how he destroyed them and how upset Donnie was.

"Dang, thats too bad. Was Donnie ticked?"

He laughs,"He was so heated, he got me sent to the Ha-Shi and now I have to help him fix it."

Charlie smirks, taking her panties off and sits in his chair. Mikey was still playing away, oblivious to his now stark naked lover sitting in his chair. She waits patiently for Mikey to finish the game, swinging her legs and tail about, snickering everytime Mikey cheered for his mad game skills.

When he reaches his highest score, he cheers for joy. He turns around ready to rub his victory in Charlie's face when he stops dead in his tracks to see her completely nude, sitting in his chair. She giggles at his reaction.

"Why'd you stop celebrating?" She wondered, giving him those innocent fox eyes he loves. He licks his lips.

"Because I won something greater." She blushes at his choice of words. Feeling rhe butterflies flapping around in her tummy.

"Mike-Mike, get over here and claim this prize." She demanded with a sultry smile. She didn't have to repear herself as he walked forward, ready to give her the business.

He rubbed her legs down, eliciting soft, cute whimpers from her. Her tail wag out of control at his touches. He spread her legs, smelling her potent arousal as it nested within his nostrils.

"I'm gonna enjoy this prize. Mmmph." He engulfed her mounds with his lips, eating her out, gently.

She grabs at her breasts, moaning. Looking down at Mikey, the way he kissed her nub made her want to faint. He was so sexy between her legs.

"You like your prize, Mikey?" He lifts his head up to face her, lips glistening with her juices, he swallows audibly. Fudge!

"Like it? I Love It, Baby! All of it. All of You!" He kissed her inner thigh, returning to what he was doing.

She moans louder, resting her hands on his head, rolling her hips to his face.

"Your tongue feels so good on me, Baby. You eat me out so delicately. I'm about to get wild! Don't Stop! Right There! Keep doing it!" She gasps, from his tongue plunging into her. Tossing her head back, rolling her hips even more.

He holds her thighs firmly, sensing shes about to burst. She warns him, he encourages her.

"Go ahead and come. Let it all out." He moans, giving her clit a nice good suck.

She climaxes slowly, Mikey's snout coated in her cream. She breathed slowly, coming down from her high.

He comes up and kisses her on the lips. Her nectar was still in his mouth, she moaned as she kissed him hard. She wrapped her arms around his neck, using her feet to do work pulling down his pants and underwear. He pulled her out of the chair, turned them around so he was the one sitting in the chair while Charlie sat face to face straddling his lap. Her wet folds caressing his throbbing schlong.

They gazed into each other's eyes. Mikey brushes her hair out of her face, cupping her cheek. Falling in love with her face all over again. She lovingly smiles at him. He lifts her up by the waists, she grabs his shaft, sliding his meat inside of her heated tunnel. The stretch was fantastic as they both moaned at the sensation. Charlie leaned back, planting her hands on his knees for support as she grinded herself on his ever impressive pleasure stick.

"Mikey, ahh." She moans,"You feel so good inside of me. Give me more!" She coos, throwing her head back, hair flailing, tail wagging. Mikey massages her waist, returning the compliment.

"It's so hot. So hot inside you, Vixy! Ah!" He grunts.

She comes back up to face him, wraps her arms around his neck and shoulders, staring intently into his eyes. He grasps her waist tighter as he keep eye contact with.

"Charlie. My Charlie. My Sexy, Foxy Charlie!" He chanted, her name on his tongue made her gush even more. His facial expressions full of lust as he called out her name. He was getting close.

"I won't last much longer, Charlie. I'm gonna come. Gonna come hard! Your insides are so warm and slippery! I Love It!" He groans, holding her one boob in his hand. She whimpers as her orgasm was getting there. "You're the best prize I ever won, BabyCakes! I Love You. I Love You so much, Charlie!" His moaning made her moan louder at his heart-felt confession. She couldn't take it.

"I'm almost there too, Mikey! Give me your hot and steamy seed. I love the feeling of your cum inside me. Fill me to the brim with your love. I want it! I Want You!" She moans loud as they kept rocking each other in that chair.

"I love coming inside of you, Baby. Here It Comes!" He humps her harder, grabbing her booty, as she held him tighter around the neck as they said each other's names, coming undo as they came together in a delicious climax. She could feel his warm seed filling her, just like she wanted. He felt her squeezing him, he throbbed everytime she squeezed.

He grabs her face, kissing her passionately, rubbing her back. Charlie giggles, snuggling into his chest.

"Donnie's gonna kill me when he finds out what we did in this chair." Mikey mumbles. Charlie chuckles.

"Sweety, you're already on thin ice with Donnie as it is. May as well make it thinner." She quips, booping his snout.

He has her face him, staring into her eyes.

"You are always worth it." He responds, kissing her lips.

She smiles, wagging her tail.

@uniqueoutlierblog

[buthowboutno]

Comic of Sweets and Hassan based on a conversation with @morning-sun-brah and @sha-biest

Technically for the Dressing Up prompt for the @tmnt-ocxcanon-comp , but Sweets doesn’t really… /do/ that. They put on real pants for this, at least. Y’all should be grateful they wore a shirt at all.

#FreeSweetsTits2k24

GO VOTE FOR HASSAN IN THE POLLS YOU STINKIES <3

[metranart]

Dating Mikey be like… 💐

[missmadella]

Stiches and Smoke (Mikey x Reader)

Summary: You’re a strong and independent doctor who works in a hospital, living a relatively quiet life — that is, until you unexpectedly cross paths with Mikey and the Bonten gang. After helping a few of Bonten’s members in a medical emergency, Mikey takes notice of you, intrigued by your calm demeanor and beauty. At first, you try to brush off the attention, but as time goes on, your connection with Mikey grows, transforming from simple curiosity to something deeper.

Words: 13754

The air that night smelled like rain on concrete. Not fresh, not clean — but sharp. Metallic. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself as you made your way down the narrow backstreet you always used to cut through the city.

It was late.

Too late for anyone decent to be out. And yet, here you were — fresh off a twelve-hour hospital shift, your sneakers damp from stepping through puddles that shimmered under streetlights.

You were halfway down the alley when you noticed them.

Two figures. Shadows leaning against the brick wall like they belonged to it — one hunched over, blood dripping steadily from between his fingers. The other stood a few steps away, head tipped back against the bricks, eyes on you like he’d been waiting.

Your breath caught, and your footsteps faltered.

Every part of your body said don’t. Don’t get involved. Don’t make eye contact. Don’t be a fool.

But you weren’t just anyone. You were a doctor. And whatever they were — whoever they were — one of them was bleeding badly.

So you didn’t speak.

You didn’t ask.

You just walked forward, slow and careful, like approaching a wild animal. When the taller one tensed, you raised your hands a little.

“I’m not here to cause problems,” you said softly. “Just let me look.”

They didn’t stop you. Didn’t answer, either.

Up close, the damage was worse — a deep gash near the ribs, already soaking through his shirt. Blood was pooling. Fast. Your hands moved automatically, muscle memory from a hundred similar nights in the ER. You dropped your bag beside him, tore open a packet of sterile gauze, and pressed it down.

He hissed in pain but didn’t move.

The quiet one finally spoke, voice low and slightly hoarse. “You a nurse or something?”

“Doctor,” you said, without looking up. “Emergency room. Just got off shift.”

A pause.

“…Shitty timing.”

“Could say the same to you.”

The tension didn’t vanish, but it shifted — less sharp now, more curious. You worked in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds your quiet instructions and the far-off hum of city life. Eventually, you taped the bandage down, still applying pressure.

“You need real care,” you murmured. “This isn’t going to hold long.”

“No hospitals,” the injured one said, tone flat but not aggressive.

You looked up at him. He was young. They both were. And dangerous. It was written all over them — in the way they held themselves, the quiet confidence, the blood.

But you didn’t feel scared. Not exactly. Just… unsettled.

“Fine,” you said. “Then you stay off that side and don’t reopen it. Don’t move too much. And keep it clean.”

The taller one stared at you, lips twitching into the smallest hint of a smirk.

“You always carry medical gear with you?”

You glanced at your bag. “Yeah. You’d be surprised how many emergencies happen between point A and point B.”

The other man — the one who hadn’t bled but had watched your every move — finally pushed off the wall. His voice was cooler, curious.

“Why’d you stop?”

You met his eyes.

“Because someone was bleeding to death in an alley, and I was the only one around.”

Simple as that.

You stood, wiping your hands with alcohol. “I don’t know who you are, and I don’t need to. I didn’t see anything.”

A pause.

Then, quietly:

“But if it gets worse, don’t be stupid. Come find me. I’m at the general hospital, Shibuya district.”

You turned and walked away.

You didn’t look back.

___________________________________________________________________________

The city never sleeps, but you did. At least, you tried to.

The night you patched up the two men in the alley felt like any other late shift — except something lingered in the air afterward, like a distant hum that you couldn’t shake.

You tried to forget about them, about the tall one with the bloodstained shirt and the other with the cold, assessing eyes. But the moment you walked into the hospital the next day, it was impossible.

There were murmurs in the halls. People were talking. Not about you. Not yet. But about a “business meeting” that had occurred just outside your workplace, and how a man with pink-tipped hair had asked about a particular doctor.

Curiosity stirred inside you, but you pushed it down. You were a professional, and your job was saving lives, not getting entangled in the mess that undoubtedly came with those types of people.

But life had a way of testing your resolve.

A week later, on your way home, you noticed the black car idling across the street. The tinted windows reflected nothing but the faint streetlights. It wasn’t until you stepped closer that the door opened.

Out stepped a man in a perfectly tailored suit, sharp as a blade.

It was him.

The one with the pink hair, the one you’d patched up in that alley.

He looked different now — clean, sharp, like a businessman, but his eyes were still just as cold, his posture still full of that dangerous confidence.

You froze. He wasn’t in a rush. He just stood there, looking at you, like he had been expecting you.

“Hey,” he said with an easy smirk, stepping into the space between you and the car. “I’m not here to cause trouble.”

The words sounded too casual, like he was trying to convince himself as much as you.

You crossed your arms, trying to hide how your pulse quickened. “I didn’t ask for trouble.”

“True,” he agreed. “But trouble does have a way of finding people like you.”

You raised an eyebrow, unsure if he was flirting or threatening you. “What do you want?”

He glanced over his shoulder, where the black car sat, silent as ever. His voice dropped, almost conspiratorial. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get in trouble for helping us out.”

“Why would I?” you asked. “I didn’t see anything. I don’t ask questions.”

He smiled at that, like your nonchalance amused him. “Yeah, that’s the problem. Not many people can do that.”

There was a long pause as he studied you — the kind of look that made you feel exposed, like he could see past the scrubs and the calm demeanor you put up. You hated how he made you feel so… vulnerable.

“I just helped you because it was the right thing to do. That’s it,” you said firmly, trying to hold your ground.

He tilted his head, considering your words, before his gaze softened. “Right thing to do… Yeah, I guess that’s one way to put it.”

Then, out of nowhere, the car door opened, and a tall man stepped out — a different one this time, but just as imposing, if not more so. Dark hair, intense eyes, a scar running down his jaw. He gave you a brief but pointed look before his attention shifted to the man standing next to you.

“You done here?” he asked, voice flat.

“Just making sure she’s not a liability,” the pink-haired man replied casually, then turned back to you. “By the way, we never got your name.”

You didn’t answer right away, still trying to wrap your head around the situation. They were watching you. You could feel it.

But you weren’t about to let them control the conversation.

“You don’t need it,” you replied, your voice firm, deflecting. “I helped you once, and that’s all I owe you.”

The man didn’t look surprised. In fact, he seemed more intrigued.

“Fair enough,” he said, voice cool, almost impressed. “But if you ever need anything — anything at all — we can be… helpful.”

With a slight nod, he turned and headed toward the car, the other man following closely behind, not sparing you another glance.

You stood there for a moment, staring at their retreating figures, trying to make sense of it all. You had no idea who they were, but something told you they weren’t the type to just vanish. They were always watching, always waiting.

You shook your head, walking the rest of the way home, but the unease followed you.

__________________________________________________________________________

You didn’t know how much of a point you made the night in the alley. You tried to ignore the feeling that was creeping from your back up to your shoulders. It was a light breeze in your mind that told you something was about to happen. The problem was that you didn’t want to be involved at all in the mess that was about to occur to you. You had done your job. You had helped when no one else could — and then you’d gone back to your normal life. Or at least, you’d tried to. But something about that night lingered, like a shadow you couldn’t shake, creeping into your thoughts every time you were alone. The way those men had looked at you, the way they seemed to almost... worship the fact that you hadn’t flinched at the sight of them. They weren’t just grateful. They had taken something from you that night. Something you didn’t know how to name. But that was the past. Right?

Sanzu was the first to approach you. You were finishing up your shift, about to leave for the day, when he appeared at the hospital’s entrance, a calm, almost predatory look on his face. You froze for a moment when you noticed him. There was something about the way he stood that made your instincts scream at you to be cautious.

He had always been hard to read, with his mischievous grin and the glint of danger in his eyes. This time, though, it was different. He wasn’t here with an injury or a casual encounter. He was here with purpose.

“Hey there, Doc,” Sanzu greeted you, his voice smooth but carrying an edge that made you pause. “Got a minute?”

You blinked, taken aback by the unexpected appearance. “Sanzu, right?” you asked, your voice steady. You had helped him a few times before, patched him up when things got rough. But this time, he wasn’t in pain.

“Yeah, that's me,” Sanzu responded casually. He stepped closer, his tone shifting slightly, growing more serious. “Look, Mikey’s been hearing a lot about you.”

You raised an eyebrow, confused. “Mikey?” you repeated. You didn’t know who that was, but the way Sanzu said it… it was like you were supposed to know.

Sanzu didn’t offer much of an explanation right away. Instead, he watched you closely, gauging your reaction. “You know, the boss of Bonten?” he said, his words almost casual but carrying weight with each one. “The one who runs things around here.”

Your heart skipped a beat. The mention of Bonten caught your attention instantly. You knew who they were — everyone did. The organization was known for its ruthlessness, its power, and its control over the underworld. But you hadn’t expected to be in the path of someone so influential.

Sanzu tilted his head slightly, noticing your hesitation. “Don’t worry,” he continued, his grin returning. “He just wants to meet you. You’ve caught his attention, Doc. Mikey’s curious.”

You opened your mouth to ask more questions, but Sanzu interrupted you before you could speak. “I’m not asking. Mikey wants to see you. It’s just a conversation, nothing to stress about.”

His words weren’t harsh, but there was an undertone of finality to them. It wasn’t a request. And you could tell by the way Sanzu spoke that saying “no” wasn’t really an option. Not if you wanted to stay on good terms.

“I don’t know…” you started, still hesitant. But Sanzu didn’t give you much room to protest.

“Trust me,” he said with a wink, his tone light but firm. “You’ll want to come. Mikey’s not someone you just brush off.”

There was a pause as Sanzu waited for your response, his eyes never leaving yours. You could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on you, but at the same time, there was a strange pull to his words. You didn’t know Mikey — not personally, at least — but the way Sanzu spoke about him made it clear that this was not an opportunity you should ignore.

You let out a soft sigh, resigned to your situation. “Fine. I’ll go with you,” you said, not exactly excited, but curious enough to see where this would lead.

A flash of approval passed through Sanzu’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything more. He simply gestured for you to follow him.

“Great. Mikey’s waiting.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The car ride to Mikey’s base was quiet, the weight of Sanzu’s words still lingering in your mind. You couldn’t shake the tension in the air, the sense that you were about to walk into something far bigger than you had anticipated. When the car finally stopped, you were led inside through a sleek, high-end building that screamed power. The atmosphere here was nothing like the hospital — it felt controlled, deliberate, like the pulse of the underworld itself.

Sanzu led you through several hallways, and eventually, you were stopped at a set of heavy doors. He knocked once before stepping aside, motioning for you to enter.

Inside, Mikey sat behind a large desk, his posture relaxed, yet you could feel the commanding aura surrounding him. He was calm, observant, his eyes fixed on you as soon as you stepped into the room. The silence between you two wasn’t awkward — it was the kind of quiet that came with understanding. Mikey wasn’t one to speak immediately. He preferred to observe, to let you come to him.

Sanzu stayed by the door, his arms crossed, leaning against the wall as if waiting for something to unfold.

Mikey broke the silence first, his voice smooth and steady. “You’re the one who helped our guy,” he said, his gaze not leaving you. “Sanzu’s told me about you.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. You didn’t know Mikey, but the way his words carried weight made it clear he wasn’t just speaking casually. He was making an assessment.

“Yeah, I just helped,” you replied, your voice steady, though your heart was racing. “I do it for a living. People get hurt all the time.”

Mikey leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharp. “Not like this. Most people wouldn’t step in like you did. You didn’t hesitate, didn’t ask for anything. That’s rare.”

The tension in the room grew heavier as Mikey’s calm demeanor remained unshaken. He wasn’t demanding anything from you, but there was a quiet power in the way he spoke, a presence that made you feel both at ease and on edge at the same time.

“You don’t strike me as someone who does things for recognition,” Mikey continued, his tone still even, but with a hint of curiosity. “That’s the kind of person I want to get to know better.”

You felt yourself shift slightly under his gaze, unsure of how to react to his words. Mikey’s aura didn’t come off as aggressive. It was more like a magnet, drawing you in even though you didn’t fully understand why.

“I’m not looking for anything in return,” you said, trying to keep things as neutral as possible. “I just did what I could.”

Mikey observed you in silence for a long moment, his eyes scanning you carefully. He wasn’t saying much, but everything in his gaze felt like it was weighing you — testing you. Finally, he spoke again, his voice softer but still carrying that edge of authority.

“You’re not like most people,” Mikey said. “That’s what I find interesting about you.”

A small silence filled the room, and for a moment, it felt like you were standing at the precipice of something you didn’t entirely understand. Mikey’s interest in you was clear, but what exactly he wanted from you — you couldn’t quite tell.

“I don’t need anything from you,” you added, your voice steady, firm. “I’m just doing my job. That’s all.”

Mikey’s lips quirked upward just slightly, but there was something more serious behind it now. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask,” he said, his voice quiet but still firm. “I don’t give favors to just anyone. But you’re different.”

You could feel his eyes on you, and something about the way he spoke made you feel like you were caught between two worlds — the one you knew, and the one Mikey represented. You didn’t want anything from him. You never had. You didn’t need his attention, his favors, or his help.

You nodded once, quietly. “Thanks. But I’m fine.”

Mikey didn’t press it any further. Instead, he sat back in his chair, his gaze never leaving you. “You’re free to go. But remember what I said.”

___________________________________________________________________________

As the door clicked shut behind you, Mikey leaned back in his chair, his fingers lightly tapping the desk. His eyes remained fixed on the spot where you had been standing moments ago. The room, though silent, felt charged with a quiet tension that only seemed to grow in your absence.

There was something about you that had caught his attention—something different. Mikey was used to people, used to the way they interacted with him, with Bonten. He was the boss; people either feared him, respected him, or had something to gain from being around him. But you… you weren’t like that.

Your composure, the way you’d handled the situation with such ease, had intrigued him. Most people would’ve been nervous or intimidated, but not you. You didn’t flinch when the weight of his gaze fell on you, nor did you try to impress him. You were just… yourself. And that was something Mikey wasn’t used to.

But it wasn’t just your attitude that had caught his attention. No, it was the way you looked. The way your eyes had met his, so steady, so confident. You were stunning, in a way that made his chest tighten without him even realizing it. You weren’t overly flashy, not like the women he was often surrounded by. You had a subtle beauty—one that didn’t beg for attention, but still managed to command it effortlessly. There was something raw and unspoken in your presence that he found himself drawn to.

As he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, Mikey couldn’t stop himself from replaying the moments you shared in his mind. Your voice, steady and calm. Your refusal to ask for anything in return, even when he offered. It was… impressive. People in his world usually had an agenda, something to gain from getting close to him, but not you. You didn’t seem to need anything, didn’t seem to want anything from him. And that intrigued him even more.

He couldn’t deny it—he wanted to know more about you. There was something about the way you held yourself that made him want to peel back your layers, to see what was underneath. You weren’t like the others who were easy to read. You were an enigma, and Mikey loved puzzles.

His thoughts drifted back to the way you’d spoken, how you had made it clear that you weren’t looking for anything from him. It was clear that you weren’t someone who could easily be bought or manipulated. And Mikey respected that. He didn’t want to be like the others who tried to control people, to bend them to their will. No, you were different, and Mikey liked that.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t intrigued by you. He had a sense of control, yes, but he had never been the type to force someone into his world. He wanted you to come to him, to seek him out on your own terms. And that… that was something Mikey had to have.

A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he thought about you walking out of the room. You weren’t scared, weren’t intimidated by his power. And that, in Mikey’s eyes, made you even more desirable. You didn’t need his protection, you didn’t need his money, and you definitely didn’t need his approval. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d be an interesting person to have in his life. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to know you—no, possess you in a way that was uniquely his.

Mikey sat back again, his gaze turning to the window, his fingers still tapping rhythmically on the desk. There was no rush. He wasn’t the type to rush anything, especially something like this. But the curiosity, the desire, was there, simmering under the surface. And one thing Mikey knew—he always got what he wanted.

__________________________________________________________________________

You didn’t ask for it. You didn’t need it. But somehow, Mikey had decided that you needed a personal bodyguard. Or at least, that’s what it felt like whenever one of his guys showed up uninvited to take you home after your shifts.

It started off small — Ran one evening, leaning against your office doorframe with that amused grin of his, informing you that Mikey “insisted” on him taking you home. You gave him a look that could have melted steel.

“I’m fine, Ran. I can take care of myself,” you’d said, trying to brush him off.

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes never leaving yours. “That’s cute, but Mikey says you need someone to make sure you get home safe. You know, considering the kind of people you’re around lately. Can’t have you getting hurt, right?”

You narrowed your eyes. “I’m pretty sure I can walk myself home without a babysitter. But thank you for the unsolicited help, though,” you replied, voice laced with sarcasm.

Ran chuckled, his grin widening. “Mikey’s orders,” he said simply. “I’m just doing my job.”

After that night, it seemed like one of Mikey’s crew was always waiting outside the hospital at the end of your shift. Rindou, Kokonoi, Sanzu—each of them taking their turn, showing up like it was a normal thing. And all of them had the same excuse: “Mikey said.”

It was maddening, but there was something about the way they acted that made it impossible to just tell them to leave. It wasn’t like they were being pushy in a rude way, more like they genuinely thought they were helping you. Still, every time one of them showed up, you’d throw out a sarcastic remark just to let them know how you felt about their “kindness.”

“I didn’t ask for a ride,” you said to Kokonoi one evening, crossing your arms as you met his gaze. He looked completely unbothered by your irritation.

“Doesn’t matter if you asked for it or not,” Kokonoi replied, his tone amused. “Mikey’s orders are Mikey’s orders. And trust me, you’re better off letting us make sure you get home in one piece. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, Doc.”

“Right. Because I'm sure I’m an easy target for someone like you to protect,” you shot back with a roll of your eyes. “Do I look that helpless to you?”

He gave a shrug, that same smile still on his face. “It’s not about looking helpless. It’s about keeping you safe. And, to be honest… Mikey’s kind of attached.”

At that last part, your eyebrows furrowed. You didn’t know how to take that. The idea that Mikey, the boss of Bonten, was personally concerned about your safety was strange. You weren’t some damsel in distress — you were a doctor. And though Mikey had caught your attention in the past, it wasn’t like you were about to fall into his arms because of his "protection." Yet, part of you felt a little unsettled by his constant surveillance.

The next few days were no different. When you stepped outside one evening, there was Sanzu waiting by your car, hands casually in his pockets. “Mikey’s worried about you,” he said with that usual smirk. “You should let me take you home, Doc. Wouldn’t want anyone to catch a glimpse of you with Bonten’s crew around here.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “This is getting ridiculous. I’m not a target, Sanzu. You don’t need to babysit me.”

“Cute,” he said, his grin widening, eyes gleaming with amusement. “You say that like it’s a choice. We’re just making sure you stay safe, that’s all. Mikey’s got plans for you, you know.”

You couldn’t stop the eye roll that escaped your lips. “Plans? What kind of plans?”

“Plans,” Sanzu repeated. “You don’t need to worry about it. You’ll find out soon enough.”

It was all starting to feel like a game, and you didn’t like the feeling of being manipulated, even if it was in a subtle way. But despite your annoyance, there was something that made you reluctant to shake them off entirely. Maybe it was the way they seemed to genuinely care in their own strange way — a way that, while frustrating, made you feel like you weren’t entirely alone.

But as the days wore on, you couldn’t deny that Bonten’s influence in your life was starting to wear on you. It wasn’t just the fact that you were being escorted home, sometimes by two or three members at a time. It was the little things — like the way you would walk into the hospital lobby and find one of them already sitting, waiting, not even seeming to mind that they were intruding on your personal space.

One evening, after a long shift, you found Ran waiting by your car again. He gave you a knowing look, one eyebrow arched. “You look like you’ve had enough of us.”

You gave him a half-smile. “You’re not wrong,” you muttered, but despite your frustration, you couldn’t bring yourself to turn him away.

“Look,” Ran began, his usual teasing demeanor softening slightly, “Mikey just wants to make sure nothing happens to you. He’s… protective of you. Even if you don’t get it.”

You blinked at him, taken aback by his rare seriousness. “Protective?” you repeated, the word sitting heavily on your tongue. “Mikey doesn’t know me. How can he be protective of someone he doesn’t even know?”

“You’d be surprised,” Ran replied, his tone gentle, his eyes almost apologetic. “Mikey doesn’t let just anyone in. And he’s got his reasons for keeping an eye on you.”

You shook your head, still not fully convinced. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

“We know,” Ran said, his grin returning. “But Mikey doesn’t trust anyone to handle his own business. And you? Well, you’ve caught his eye.”

The way he said it, the casual way it rolled off his tongue, made you feel even more confused. Mikey was… interested? You didn’t know what to think about that, but it seemed like his influence was growing stronger. With each passing day, Bonten’s reach extended further into your life, and no matter how sarcastic or frustrated you were with it, you couldn’t help but wonder what Mikey wanted from you.

Despite your frustration, you couldn’t help but feel a little curious about what Mikey saw in you. He was the boss of Bonten, a world of power, manipulation, and danger. Yet, with the way his crew treated you — each one of them almost protective in their own unique way — you began to wonder if there was more to this than just Bonten’s typical power plays.

The more they hovered around you, the more you started to see that you weren’t just being watched; you were being wanted. And that made everything more complicated than it should’ve been.

__________________________________________________________________________

The routine had settled in over the past few weeks. Every shift at the hospital, it was the same — Mikey’s crew would show up, sometimes two or three of them, just waiting by your car or lurking in the lobby. They were no longer just a presence in the background; they were a fixture in your day.

At first, you tried to keep a professional distance, maintaining your role as a doctor and not as the target of Mikey’s attention. But the longer it went on, the more they began to soften, calling you little nicknames that you couldn’t quite ignore.

“Hey, princess,” Ran would greet you with a grin. “How’s the day treating you?”

“You’re looking good today, doll,” Rindou would add, a playful smirk curling on his lips as he looked you up and down.

At first, you found it irritating. You didn’t need these guys calling you pet names, but you couldn’t deny that they weren’t malicious. It was just how they were, wrapped in the strange, possessive aura of their leader Mikey. Even Sanzu, with his usual chaos, started referring to you as “princess” with a certain fondness.

It wasn’t like you enjoyed the attention, but after a while, you found yourself looking forward to their banter — even if you would never admit it out loud. They were a part of your daily life now, for better or worse.

Then, one evening, something happened that you couldn’t have anticipated.

It was a late shift, and you were finishing up with a particularly difficult patient. He’d been difficult all night, lashing out, refusing treatment, and growling insults at anyone who came near. But you, as always, kept your calm. You’d worked with patients like this before, and you knew how to handle them.

However, tonight, something snapped in the patient. The moment you turned your back to grab a syringe, he lunged, and before you could react, his fist collided with your face.

The blow was hard and swift. Your vision blurred as pain shot through your skull, and the metallic taste of blood filled your mouth. You staggered back, hands instinctively reaching for your face, but the damage was done. Blood streamed down your chin, staining your scrubs.

You stumbled into the wall, catching yourself as your head spun. The pain was overwhelming, but you gritted your teeth. You couldn’t afford to show weakness, not with your reputation as the strong, unshakable doctor. But this time, the force of the punch left you disoriented.

___________________________________________________________________________

The emergency room lights buzzed above you as the nurses worked quickly to assess your injuries. The hit you’d taken was brutal, and even with the painkillers, your body felt like it was on fire from the swelling in your cheek and the deep gash that ran from your lip down to your jaw.

You were glad they didn’t make a big deal out of it. The hospital was already busy, and the last thing you wanted was to be in the spotlight. You just needed to get patched up, go home, and sleep this off.

A different doctor, one you didn’t recognize, entered the room with a brief nod. He was older, calm, and professional, quickly getting to work on cleaning the blood off your face. The sharp sting of antiseptic against the cuts made you wince, but you kept your eyes closed, trying to block out the pain.

He didn’t ask too many questions, thankfully. His hands were steady as he applied stitches, giving you a few instructions on how to care for the wounds. The nurse assisting him finished quickly, wrapping a bandage around your head to keep the gauze in place.

“You’ll be fine,” the doctor said as he finished up. “Just make sure to rest. The swelling should go down in a few days. If you feel dizzy or experience any vision issues, come back in immediately.”

You nodded, barely registering his words. You just wanted to get out of here, away from the sterile environment that felt suffocating. The doctor handed you a prescription for painkillers and left you with the nurse to handle the paperwork. You barely paid attention as you signed the forms. The less interaction with people, the better.

Once the formalities were over, you slowly stood up, your body feeling stiff from the impact and the weight of everything that had happened. The throbbing pain in your face was almost unbearable, but you were used to this by now. You could handle it. You always did.

___________________________________________________________________________

The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly as you shuffled through the hospital corridors, your steps slow and heavy. Every movement seemed to draw more attention to the sharp pain in your face, and you couldn’t help but wince slightly with every step you took. The gash on your cheek throbbed, but the worst of it was the exhaustion that had set in. You just wanted to get home, crawl into bed, and forget about everything.

You’d been treated by another doctor — someone unfamiliar — who stitched up your wound and gave you some painkillers. They didn’t make a big fuss about it, and you were thankful for that. You just needed some peace, no more drama. You had done your part, helped someone, and now, you just wanted to go back to your normal life.

As you stepped outside the building, the cool air hit your face, sending a shiver down your spine. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to ignore the pain, but the discomfort was all too real. The hospital's looming white walls felt like they were closing in on you as you walked toward the curb.

That was when you saw them — the black car, parked at the curb, its engine off. You didn’t even need to see their faces to know who it was. The moment the tinted window rolled down, revealing Ran and Rindou’s concerned expressions, your heart sank.

You stopped in your tracks, an uneasy feeling creeping up your spine. You’d been hoping for a quiet evening to recover, not this.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” you asked, a little sharper than you intended, but the pain was starting to make you irritable. You didn’t need anyone else involved in your life right now, especially not Bonten.

Ran’s gaze immediately sharpened when he saw you. His eyes flickered to your swollen cheek, and his expression darkened. “What the hell happened to you?” His voice was low, almost furious, and it caught you off guard.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, trying to brush it off, though even you could tell your words sounded hollow. “It’s just a little bump, nothing serious.”

But Rindou wasn’t buying it. He got out of the car quickly, his face tight with concern, though there was a hint of anger in his eyes. “Don’t give us that bullshit,” he snapped, his tone almost harsh. “You’re bleeding like hell. That’s not ‘nothing.’”

“Ran, Rindou, I’m fine,” you repeated, a little more forcefully, your irritation growing. “I don’t need anyone coming to pick me up. I can get home myself.”

But they weren’t having it. Ran stepped forward, his body blocking your path as his hands went to your shoulders, almost gripping you too tightly. His gaze hardened, and you could see the worry eating at him beneath the anger. “You think you can just walk off a hit like that? We told you, you’re not safe anymore. You’re with us now. You’re Bonten’s responsibility.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Rindou’s sharp voice cut you off. “No one gets left alone, especially not you. You think this is a game?” His words weren’t harsh, but they were firm, and the way he looked at you — as if you were already in danger, as if you didn’t have a choice — made your stomach twist. “Someone could have seen you here, with us, and that makes you a target. And I’m not letting anything happen to you.”

You narrowed your eyes, the anger bubbling up inside you. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask to be dragged into your mess.”

But they didn’t budge. Ran’s grip on your shoulder tightened, and there was something in his eyes now — something that wasn’t just anger, but genuine concern. “Doesn’t matter,” he said softly, his voice dropping a few degrees. “You’re in this now. And we’re not letting you go until we know you’re safe. Got it?”

Rindou sighed, frustration clear in his voice. “Look, we get it, alright? You don’t want our help. But this is bigger than you think. You’re not just some random person anymore. Mikey wants you safe. We’re taking you to him.”

Your jaw clenched. “I don’t need a babysitter. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

Ran’s expression flickered between anger and something else — something softer. His mouth tightened as if he were trying to hold back his frustration. “You’re right. You didn’t ask for any of it. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re involved now.”

They were both looking at you like you were a ticking time bomb. You wanted to push back, to tell them to leave you alone, but the truth was, they were right. The world you had tried to keep yourself away from was pulling you in, and no matter how many times you tried to shut it out, you were too far in now to escape.

Rindou glanced at Ran, his lips pressing into a thin line. “We’re not leaving without you,” he said, his tone final. He turned back to you, concern still in his eyes, but there was an undeniable hardness to his words. “You’re coming with us. Whether you like it or not.”

You stared at them for a moment, feeling the weight of their eyes on you. Despite your irritation and frustration, you could see how seriously they were taking this. You might not like it, but you knew there was no arguing with them.

“Fine,” you muttered, your voice laced with bitterness. “But this doesn’t mean I’m part of your little gang.”

Ran’s lips quirked up slightly, but there was no amusement in his expression. “We’ll see about that.”

With that, they both led you toward the car, their hands never leaving your shoulders as if to make sure you didn’t try to walk away. You slid into the back seat with Ran beside you, the door closing with a soft thud. Rindou slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

As the car pulled away, you leaned your head back against the headrest, closing your eyes, exhausted by everything that had happened. But despite your fatigue, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over. You were no longer just a bystander, no longer able to pretend that none of this affected you.

The world of Bonten was far too close now.

___________________________________________________________________________

Mikey’s eyes followed you intently as you walked into the room, your steps hesitant, your posture still stiff from the pain. His gaze immediately locked onto the gash on your cheek, the swollen bruise that had already begun to form. It wasn’t the kind of wound that could be ignored, not by anyone with half a brain. You were a doctor — someone who took care of others, yet here you were, hurt in front of him. And it pissed him off more than he cared to admit.

Sanzu was standing near the door, arms crossed, watching the interaction unfold with a smirk that didn't quite match the mood of the room. Ran and Rindou, who had been with you earlier, stood off to the side, their usual composure faltering just slightly as they noticed the same thing Mikey had — that cut on your cheek was far worse than you were letting on.

Mikey, though, didn’t say anything for a few moments. His silence was unnerving, but his expression said enough. It was a mix of concern and something deeper — something he wasn’t ready to acknowledge yet, even to himself.

Without a word, Mikey slowly moved closer to you. His presence was commanding, his every step deliberate. You didn’t flinch at his approach, but your muscles tensed, and Mikey noticed. You were still too proud to show weakness, but he wasn’t here for your pride right now. He was here because you were hurt, and that meant something to him — even if he didn’t want to admit it out loud.

He stopped just a foot away from you, his eyes tracing the outline of the injury on your face, the dark purple bruise already spreading across your cheek. His jaw clenched, and for a split second, it was clear to anyone watching that he was trying to keep his anger in check.

Without thinking, Mikey reached out, his fingers brushing lightly across your cheek, careful not to touch the injury directly. His touch was surprisingly gentle, almost tender as he tilted your head slightly, his fingers warm against your skin. You flinched a little at the movement, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned in closer, his voice low but filled with genuine curiosity — and concern.

“Who did this?” he asked, his tone soft yet firm, like a command. His gaze flickered for a brief moment toward Ran, then Rindou, and finally to Sanzu, who stood quietly by the door, his expression unreadable. The shift in Mikey’s posture told them all what they needed to know. He was pissed, and whoever had hurt you was about to regret it.

But Mikey wasn’t the type to lash out immediately. No, he was more calculating than that. He needed answers first.

You hesitated, your lips pressing into a tight line, but before you could respond, Ran and Rindou both exchanged glances — they knew what Mikey was asking, and they could see the simmering frustration in his eyes. But they didn’t speak, understanding Mikey’s need to hear it from you.

It was Rindou who stepped forward first, his expression neutral, but his voice hard. “It was a patient. Hit her in the face pretty hard. It’s why she’s here, Mikey. We should’ve had her taken care of sooner.”

Mikey didn’t take his eyes off you, though. He didn’t care about the explanation right now. What mattered to him was making sure you were okay — or at least, as okay as you could be after whatever had happened.

You swallowed, feeling his gaze on you, and then, despite the exhaustion that weighed on you, you exhaled slowly. “It was an accident. Just some stress from a patient. Nothing serious.” You tried to brush it off, but Mikey wasn’t having any of it. He could see right through you — the way your words didn’t match the pain in your eyes.

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, his thumb brushed gently along your jawline, just below the bruise, as if silently assessing the damage. His hand was still there, his fingers tender against your skin, as if he was trying to anchor himself to something — you, maybe, or the moment. You didn’t flinch away, but you didn’t look up either. His touch was both comforting and unnerving, and it made you feel vulnerable in a way you weren’t used to.

For a brief moment, the room was silent. The others watched closely, waiting for Mikey’s next move. It was Sanzu, ever the one to break the tension, who finally spoke.

“Mikey,” Sanzu said, voice low but with an edge of caution. “You should get her checked out properly. It’s not just a scratch.”

Mikey’s gaze flickered to Sanzu, and the tension in the room only deepened. Sanzu wasn’t wrong, but Mikey didn’t like the idea of you being handled by anyone else.

With a deep breath, Mikey pulled his hand back slowly, his eyes dark with something unreadable. He looked down at you again, his expression serious but still soft, almost reluctant. “Don’t brush this off,” he said quietly, his tone firm yet reassuring. “We take care of our own. You’re with Bonten now, and that means you’re not alone.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to tell him that you didn’t need anyone’s help, but Mikey stopped you before you could get the words out. His gaze softened, but there was an edge of steel beneath it that you couldn’t ignore.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Mikey continued, his voice low. “But if you need anything, you come to me. Don’t let your pride get in the way.”

He paused for a moment, giving you a look that made it clear this was the end of the conversation, at least for now. “Get some rest. We’ll figure the rest out.”

You didn’t answer him right away. You didn’t know how to. Mikey’s concern — his unspoken possessiveness — was starting to sink in. You had come here as a stranger, just someone who patched up a few of Bonten’s members, but now, with each passing day, you were more and more involved in their world. And Mikey? Well, he was clearly making sure you stayed a part of it, whether you liked it or not.

As you turned to leave, Mikey’s voice stopped you, and you paused, tension building in the room.

“Wait,” Mikey said, his tone low but firm. You looked back at him, meeting his gaze. “You’re not going back to your place. Not like this.”

Before you could respond, Mikey held up his hand, his expression brokering no argument. “You’re coming with me. You need rest, and I’m not leaving you alone to heal in some tiny apartment. You’ll stay with me until you’re healed.”

The finality of his words hit you hard. He was demanding it now, not asking. His gaze was unwavering, and something about the way he said it made it clear this wasn’t up for debate.

“I’ll take you to my penthouse,” Mikey added, his tone softening slightly, but the determination still lingered beneath it. “You can stay there until you're well enough to go back to your life. No arguments.”

You stared at him, taken aback by his demand. It felt like a move that left no room for refusal, and you didn’t know how to react. A part of you wanted to resist, but the way he looked at you — like this was the only choice he was giving you — made it hard to say no.

Finally, you let out a frustrated sigh, resigning yourself to the situation. “Fine,” you muttered, the exhaustion and frustration starting to wear on you. “But only until I’m healed.”

Mikey gave you a small, approving nod, the tension in his shoulders easing as he stepped toward you. “Good. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

The others filed out as Mikey led you toward the door, his hand hovering near your back as he guided you toward the waiting car. You didn’t resist; you were too tired, too drained to do anything other than follow.

As the car drove off, Mikey’s gaze stayed fixed on you. And somewhere in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder just how much deeper this connection with you was going to get. The world of Bonten was dangerous, but for some reason, he wasn’t ready to let you slip away from it — not yet, not ever.

__________________________________________________________________________

You sat in the plush, luxurious surroundings of Mikey's penthouse, the warm glow of the city lights filtering in through the windows. The weight of his presence was never far from your mind, and tonight, as you leaned against the couch, sipping tea, it felt even heavier. His gaze was always on you, though he rarely said much, and you couldn’t quite figure out how to deal with it.

You had become used to this — his quiet attention, his strange care. But you also knew that his world was dangerous, unpredictable. Every day, you tried to push away the creeping thoughts that reminded you that you didn’t belong here. The fact that you were here, under his roof, resting after an attack that had happened because of Bonten, weighed heavily on your conscience.

Mikey had made it clear that he wanted to protect you, to keep you safe. But what did that mean for you? You weren’t someone who needed to be saved. You weren’t some damsel in distress, waiting to be plucked from the dangers of the world. You had your own life, your own career, your own independence. Being here, surrounded by wealth and luxury, felt like an escape from your reality — and yet it felt wrong.

As if reading your thoughts, Mikey suddenly spoke, his voice low but direct.

“Have you ever thought about quitting your job?” he asked, his eyes studying you carefully. There was a calm certainty in his tone, as though he expected you to say yes. “I’ve got enough money to take care of you. You don’t have to work if you don’t want to.”

You blinked at him, taken aback by the offer. For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. Your mind raced, but you couldn’t find the right words. Quitting your job? It sounded so… foreign. So unlike what you’d built for yourself. You were a doctor, after all. You’d worked hard to get where you were, and the thought of just giving that up, of depending on someone like Mikey, was uncomfortable.

"I didn’t take this job for nothing," you finally said, your voice coming out quieter than you intended. "I worked hard to get where I am."

Mikey didn’t seem bothered by your hesitation. He leaned back, his gaze softening slightly, though his eyes never left you. “I know you did. And I respect that. But you don’t need to keep working if you don’t want to. You could stay here with me. I’ve got everything you need.”

There it was. The offer. The easy way out. You could stop worrying about the day-to-day grind. No more late shifts. No more hospital emergencies. Just a life of peace, of luxury. But was that what you wanted?

You ran a hand through your hair, your mind torn. You had always prided yourself on your independence. The idea of giving it up felt suffocating. And yet, when you looked at Mikey — the man who had saved you, who had taken you under his wing — there was a part of you that could see the temptation.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Mikey was a part of Bonten. He was the head of an organization that operated in the shadows, and even though he seemed to care about you, you couldn’t deny the danger that came with being close to him. The world he inhabited was dark, dangerous. You didn’t want to be dragged into it, to become just another pawn in his game.

“I appreciate the offer, Mikey,” you began, meeting his eyes. “But I don’t know if I can just quit everything. It’s not that simple.”

Mikey didn’t push. Instead, he leaned in a little, his voice quieter now, almost gentle. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like it’s an ultimatum,” he said, his hand reaching out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “But I can tell you’re tired. You’re not the type of person who lets things go easily. So let me make it easier for you. You don’t have to worry about your job or anything else. Just focus on getting better. Let me take care of everything else.”

His words made something inside you ache. There was no force behind them, no demand. It was just an offer. But it still felt like so much. You weren’t used to depending on anyone. You had never needed anyone to take care of you. You didn’t want to be some... trophy in Mikey’s world. You didn’t want to be his ‘princess,’ a delicate thing to be shielded from the world.

You looked away, your heart racing as you tried to process his offer. Your thoughts swirled in a confusing tangle of emotions. Was this what you wanted? A life where you didn’t have to struggle anymore, where Mikey provided for you? It was tempting, but you couldn’t just forget who you were. You weren’t some damsel. You were a doctor.

But then again, Mikey wasn’t asking you to give up everything. He just wanted you to focus on healing, on being taken care of. And yet, the conflict inside you remained. You felt like you were being pulled in two different directions: your pride, your desire to stay independent, and the quiet, tempting thought that maybe — just maybe — you could let go of the reins for once.

The silence between you two lingered, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Mikey didn’t pressure you. He just waited. The weight of his concern was still there, but there was also something more — something deeper, something that felt like he genuinely cared about your well-being.

“I don’t know yet,” you said, finally breaking the silence. “But I’ll think about it.”

Mikey nodded, as if he had expected that answer. “Take all the time you need. But remember, the offer’s always there.”

You sighed, leaning back into the couch, the tension slowly leaving your body. For the first time in days, you felt like you could breathe. Maybe Mikey wasn’t so bad, after all. Maybe you didn’t have to figure everything out just yet.

But that didn’t mean you were ready to give up your independence. You weren’t sure what the future held, but for now, the offer hung in the air, both a temptation and a challenge.

And that challenge — the question of what you truly wanted — was something you’d have to face, one way or another.

The morning sun streamed through the windows of Mikey's penthouse, casting a soft glow across the room. You stretched and yawned, your body still feeling a bit sore from the hit you’d taken the night before. You were slowly adjusting to being here, to being taken care of by Mikey and his crew. It wasn’t exactly what you were used to, but there was something strangely comforting about the whole situation.

You had barely started to get comfortable when Mikey walked into the living room, flashing a mischievous grin as he leaned against the doorway. “How are you feeling, princess?” he asked casually, his hands tucked into the pockets of his black hoodie. His usual laid-back demeanor was in full effect, but there was still that lingering edge of concern in his eyes.

You didn’t even bother rolling your eyes. You were getting used to the nickname, though it still sounded a bit ridiculous coming from him. “I’m fine,” you replied, taking a sip from the coffee mug in your hands. “Just a little sore.”

Mikey nodded, satisfied with your answer, before glancing at his phone. “Good. Now, how about we do something fun today? Ran and Rindou are going to take you out for some shopping. I’ve got a bit of a treat for you.”

Before you could even protest or suggest that you didn’t need anything, Ran and Rindou had already appeared at the doorway, their presence commanding attention. Ran, with his effortless style and sharp gaze, was the first to speak.

“Come on, doll, let’s get you some new clothes,” Ran said, his grin wide. His tone was playful, and despite the harshness of his usual demeanor, there was a softness in his eyes whenever he looked at you.

Rindou, ever the laid-back one, leaned against the wall casually. “Yeah, we’ve got to spoil you a little,” he said with a smirk. “Mikey insisted, so you don’t have much choice.”

You raised an eyebrow at Mikey, who simply shrugged, as if he didn’t care about your objections. “Consider it a reward for staying here,” he said, his voice playful, but there was a hint of something deeper behind his words. “I don’t like seeing you in those old clothes.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “I’m a doctor, not a model,” you replied, shaking your head. But despite yourself, you were starting to feel a little excited at the idea of shopping with them. You were curious to see how they would treat you outside of Mikey’s penthouse.

___________________________________________________________________________

The car ride was short but filled with teasing banter. Ran and Rindou took turns calling you “princess” and “doll,” their voices laced with mock affection that you were starting to get used to, even if it still made you feel a bit embarrassed. It didn’t take long before you arrived at a high-end shopping district, the kind of place you never thought you’d step foot in unless it was for an emergency.

As you entered the first boutique, Ran’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Alright, princess, pick out whatever you want,” he said, leading you toward the clothing racks. “Money isn’t an issue, so you’ve got free reign.”

Rindou shot you a teasing glance. “You’re not bad to look at, so it’s only fair we spoil you.”

Your face flushed at the compliment, but you quickly deflected, pretending to be interested in a jacket that caught your eye. “I don’t need this much attention,” you muttered, but deep down, you couldn’t deny that their attention made you feel... special. You were never the type to be pampered, and yet, something about being with them, even in this environment, made you feel like you were a part of something bigger. Something exciting.

Rindou laughed softly, leaning closer to you. “Don’t be modest. You’re our ‘doll,’ remember? You deserve it.”

Ran nodded. “Exactly. We’ve been keeping an eye on you, princess. It’s time you had something nice.”

They moved with you through the store, picking out clothes, offering suggestions, and laughing at your reluctant attitude toward all the attention. As you walked out of one boutique with shopping bags in hand, you couldn’t help but notice the looks they gave you. Ran seemed like the protective older brother type, always making sure you were comfortable and well taken care of. Rindou, while more laid-back, always made sure to keep things lighthearted, his easygoing nature balancing out Ran’s seriousness.

When it was time for lunch, they led you to a small café, and the teasing continued. They didn’t stop calling you “princess” or “doll,” but now there was a sense of camaraderie. They were starting to see you less as someone Mikey was protecting and more as a part of their world. You could tell that they liked you, and, despite everything, you liked them too — even if you didn’t fully understand why.

________________________________________________________________________

By the time the day was over, you were exhausted. Your arms were full of shopping bags, your stomach content from a delicious meal, and yet there was still something gnawing at you. Bonten had a way of making you feel wanted, important, even if it was in a world that felt foreign and dangerous.

You arrived back at Mikey’s penthouse, your mind still processing everything. As you stepped out of the car, Mikey was waiting for you, his expression unreadable as he watched you approach.

"Did you have fun?" Mikey asked, his voice casual, but there was an undercurrent of something more intense in his tone.

You nodded, trying to hide your smile. “It was... alright. Your guys are pretty hard to get used to.”

He smirked at that, stepping closer to you. “That’s because they like you, princess. They see what I see.”

You felt a lump form in your throat at his words. There was something about Mikey’s attention — something you hadn’t quite figured out yet, but couldn’t ignore. It wasn’t just the way he looked at you, it was the way everyone in Bonten did. Like you were someone they couldn’t quite get enough of. And for reasons you couldn’t explain, that feeling began to settle deep inside you.

Mikey’s hand found its way to your cheek again, his touch gentle but firm. "You’re a part of this now," he said softly, his voice taking on a serious tone that sent a shiver down your spine. "And I don’t want anything to happen to you."

You didn’t say anything in return, but you didn’t need to. The unspoken agreement hung in the air, thick with anticipation. The question of what this all meant for you lingered in the back of your mind, but for now, all you could do was follow the pull of his presence. You were here to stay, at least for a while. And Mikey... Mikey was slowly making it clear that he had no intention of letting you go.

________________________________________________________________________

The days spent with Mikey felt like they were slipping through your fingers, but you were too caught up in the whirlwind to care. He was always there, a presence that both unsettled and comforted you in equal measure. He’d started to show up more frequently, either checking in on you at the penthouse or inviting you out for casual outings with the Bonten crew.

At first, you told yourself you didn’t need any of it — the expensive dinners, the lavish gifts, the constant attention. You were fine on your own, doing your own thing, keeping a distance from their world. But Mikey’s smile, his quiet but undeniable presence, made it harder for you to ignore the fact that you were slowly becoming a part of his life.

And maybe, just maybe, you were starting to like it.

He would always ask about your day, about the work you did at the hospital, his eyes always keen to know how you were doing. He would sit next to you, not forcing conversation, but there in that comfortable silence that didn’t feel awkward at all. It was as if he had a way of making everything feel natural, even when everything around you was anything but.

“You’ve been quiet lately, princess,” Mikey said one evening, sitting beside you on the couch. You had just finished a quiet dinner, the kind that felt oddly intimate in his massive penthouse. The soft glow of the city lights through the windows cast a warm light across the room, but you couldn’t help the unease that still lingered in the back of your mind. Something about the life you were now entangled in — the life of Bonten — still made you uneasy.

“Just thinking,” you replied, your gaze shifting to the window.

Mikey noticed the change in your demeanor immediately. His hand reached out, brushing a lock of hair from your face, and you couldn’t help but shiver at his touch.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, his voice low, almost soothing.

You hesitated, but his gaze was intense, and you found it hard to look away. He was different from the rest of the Bonten members, more serious in his demeanor, more quietly possessive when it came to you. It felt like he cared — more than you were willing to admit, even to yourself.

“I’m just… not used to this,” you said softly. “Your world, I mean.”

Mikey studied you for a long moment, his thumb brushing the back of your hand gently. “I get it,” he said finally, his voice sincere. “But you don’t have to be. You’re here with me now. And I’m not letting you go.”

His words lingered in the air, the intensity of them catching you off guard. You hadn’t expected him to be so direct, so confident in his actions. You wanted to pull back, to remind yourself that this was all a little too much, but the way Mikey looked at you — the way he was willing to put himself in your life, even if it meant pulling you deeper into his world — made it hard to do so.

“I’m not going anywhere, princess,” he added, the smirk on his lips softening, his eyes warm. “And I’m not letting anyone hurt you either.”

You couldn’t help but soften at his words, something in your chest tightening, feeling the weight of his protectiveness more than you cared to admit. Despite your reservations, despite the world he lived in, you felt something for him. Something you hadn’t expected.

___________________________________________________________________________

It had been an ordinary evening. You’d finished your shift at the hospital, your mind already wandering to the comfort of Mikey’s penthouse, the promise of peace after another long day. You were used to the routine now, even if it still felt strange at times. Your world had shifted so suddenly, and yet, in a way, you had adapted to it.

You pulled your coat tight around you as you stepped out into the cool night air. The streets were quiet, save for the distant hum of cars passing by and the occasional sound of the city’s nightlife coming to life. Your thoughts wandered back to Mikey — how protective he’d been lately, how he had insisted on taking care of everything for you, from the smallest task to the biggest decisions. You tried to tell yourself it was too much, that you didn’t need it, but every time you saw his intense, caring gaze, you couldn't bring yourself to push him away.

You were only a few steps away from your car when you felt a hand grip your arm from behind, pulling you into an alley before you could even react. Panic shot through you as you tried to scream, but a rough hand pressed over your mouth, stifling any noise. You twisted and struggled in their grip, your heart hammering in your chest as the world around you suddenly seemed dark and foreign.

"Shh," a voice whispered coldly, its owner stepping closer. "Don’t make a sound, sweetheart."

You tried to kick, to fight back, but the person who held you was far too strong. With one swift motion, they shoved you into a van that was waiting just ahead. The door slammed shut behind you, and the world outside was swallowed by darkness. The air in the van was stale, the only sound being your own heavy breathing as the reality of the situation set in.

The fear settled in your chest like a weight, heavy and suffocating. Who were these people? Why were they doing this? And what did they want from you?

As the van began to move, your thoughts raced. You knew that Mikey and his crew were dangerous — but you hadn’t realized just how dangerous until now. You’d always tried to keep a distance from their world, but here you were, in the heart of it. And now, you were at the mercy of people who didn’t care about the rules.

Meanwhile, Mikey was already alert, his instincts kicking into overdrive as soon as he heard the news. His crew had always been quick on the draw, but this time, something was different.

“Find her. Now,” Mikey ordered, his voice low and deadly serious. Ran, Rindou, and Sanzu didn’t hesitate. The moment they’d heard you were in danger, they were already mobilizing. There was no room for error. They knew how much you meant to Mikey, and they understood what would happen if anything happened to you.

The time seemed to drag on, each second stretching into what felt like an eternity. You tried to calm yourself, to breathe, but nothing was working. The fear kept rising in your throat, choking you. Your mind kept flashing to Mikey, to the way he always had a reassuring presence, how he promised he would never let anything happen to you.

But what if he couldn’t get to you in time? What if this was the end?

Tears welled in your eyes, but you wiped them away quickly, furious with yourself for being so vulnerable. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be caught in the middle of this world.

The van finally came to a stop, and the door slid open. A pair of rough hands pulled you out and shoved you into what seemed like an abandoned warehouse. The air was thick with the smell of old machinery and neglect. You were roughly shoved against the cold concrete wall, your heart still racing in your chest.

“Stay here,” the man who had grabbed you earlier sneered. “Your boss will be here soon.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you realized they were talking about Mikey. Of course, it made sense — if anyone had the power to control this situation, it was him. But still, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of panic. You didn’t want him to see you like this, trapped and helpless.

Mikey, on the other hand, wasn’t about to let you stay trapped for long. The second he heard the news, he turned into something else — something even colder, more dangerous. His crew could see it. Mikey’s protective nature had always been there, but this time, it was almost like a storm that couldn’t be contained.

“Find her. Now,” Mikey repeated, his voice like ice. His usual calm demeanor had evaporated completely. He couldn’t stand the thought of you in danger, especially not after everything you had been through together. He trusted his crew — Ran, Rindou, and Sanzu — to handle it, but deep down, he knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had you in his arms again.

Minutes felt like hours as they traced your whereabouts, piecing together the information as quickly as they could. Mikey’s frustration grew with every passing second. He could feel his patience thinning, the sense of urgency eating at him. There was no way he was going to let something happen to you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Mikey and the others found you. They broke into the warehouse without hesitation, moving like a well-oiled machine. Mikey led the charge, his eyes scanning the dark, dusty interior. It didn’t take long for him to spot you — bound, bruised, but alive.

His heart skipped a beat.

"Mikey," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Your eyes were wide with fear, and for a split second, it was as if everything else in the world disappeared.

The moment he laid eyes on you, Mikey's fury turned to concern, but it was barely contained behind the cold exterior he always wore. He was by your side in an instant, kneeling before you and reaching out to gently touch your face. His hand hovered over your cheek, careful not to hurt you, as he searched for any signs of injury. His thumb brushed across the edge of a cut near your lip, and his jaw clenched.

“Are you okay?” Mikey asked, his voice quieter than before, tinged with a rare, raw vulnerability.

You didn’t respond immediately. Fear and relief were choking you, and the words didn’t come. But the moment you saw Mikey, standing there, the walls you had built up came crashing down. Without thinking, you threw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“I was so scared,” you whispered into his chest, your voice shaking. “I thought… I thought I was going to die.”

Mikey’s arms immediately wrapped around you, holding you close, as if the very act of touching you could chase away the fear still lingering in your mind. His grip tightened as he buried his face in your hair, his voice low and fierce.

“Don’t worry, princess. You’re safe now,” he muttered, the words a promise. And in that moment, as you clung to him, you knew — you were never going to be alone again. Not while Mikey was around.

The moment Mikey saw you in that warehouse, bruised and terrified, something shifted inside him. There was no anger, no fear of retaliation; there was only the overwhelming need to protect you — to make sure that nothing ever hurt you again.

As soon as the last of the men in the warehouse were dealt with, Mikey didn’t even hesitate. Without a word, he walked over to you, his face a mask of controlled fury, but his eyes softened when they met yours. His gaze flickered to the others for only a moment.

“Handle the rest,” Mikey said, his voice clipped but filled with authority. “I’m taking her home.”

Ran, Rindou, and Sanzu didn’t argue. They’d learned long ago that when Mikey made a decision, there was no room for disagreement. They moved swiftly to secure the area, making sure no one else was left to pose a threat.

Mikey didn’t care about anything else right now. His only focus was you. He crouched in front of you, his strong arms reaching down, and with the gentlest care, he lifted you into his arms, cradling you like you were the most fragile thing in the world.

“Hold on,” Mikey murmured softly, his voice surprisingly tender. His hand gently brushed over your hair, the motion almost protective, as if he could chase away the fear still lingering in your eyes.

Your heart fluttered at the softness of his voice, a far cry from the cold, composed Mikey everyone else knew. It made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time, especially after everything that had happened tonight.

You instinctively curled into him, resting your head against his chest, your arms wrapping loosely around his neck. The steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his body, soothed the trembling anxiety still buzzing through you. His body was solid beneath you, unwavering, and you clung to that steadiness, needing it more than you had ever needed anything before.

Mikey carefully walked out of the warehouse, ignoring the world around him. The other members of Bonten could handle everything else. Right now, nothing mattered but you. He adjusted his hold on you, ensuring you were comfortable as he made his way toward the car. The others followed behind, the sound of their footsteps distant as Mikey stepped into the night, holding you with a focus that left no room for anything but your well-being.

The drive to Mikey’s penthouse was silent but far from uncomfortable. You remained in Mikey’s arms, your head resting against his chest, listening to the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat. The quiet hum of the car and the occasional rustling from the other members in the backseat didn’t seem to matter to you. All you could feel was the warmth of Mikey’s embrace and the overwhelming safety that came with being this close to him.

When they finally arrived at Mikey’s penthouse, Mikey was still carrying you, gently walking through the door like it was the most natural thing in the world. He didn’t care about appearances, only that you were in his arms, safe and away from the threat that had loomed over you.

He carefully laid you down on his plush couch, but only after he made sure you were comfortable, adjusting the blanket around you as though it were the most delicate thing in the world. Mikey’s usual cool exterior was replaced with a rare softness, his eyes gentle as they gazed down at you.

You looked up at him, exhaustion clouding your vision, but the sight of his protective gaze made you feel at peace. You reached up weakly, your hand brushing against his cheek.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "For saving me."

Mikey’s expression softened even further, and he gently cupped your face, his thumb tracing along the curve of your cheek. “No need to thank me, princess. I’ll always be here to protect you,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. There was no question in his words. Mikey meant every one of them.

You gave him a tired smile, feeling your eyelids grow heavy. Mikey sat beside you, his presence unwavering, his hand now resting gently on your head. He kept his gaze on you, never straying too far, always watching over you.

You snuggled up to him instinctively, your body seeking warmth, seeking his comfort. You felt so small in his arms, and yet, it was the safest you’d ever felt. Mikey’s hand ran softly through your hair, the touch gentle and soothing. You could feel the faint trace of his lips brushing against the top of your head in a tender, silent kiss.

“You’re safe here. I’m not letting anything happen to you,” Mikey whispered, his voice a soft murmur in the quiet room.

The words wrapped around you like a cocoon of warmth, and for the first time in hours, you felt your body relax completely. Your exhaustion finally took over, and you let yourself drift into sleep, the rhythm of Mikey’s voice and the steady sound of his heartbeat lulling you into a deep, peaceful slumber.

Mikey didn’t move. He sat there beside you, his hand still gently stroking your hair, his protective gaze never leaving your resting form. He couldn’t help the feeling of possessiveness that bubbled inside him. You were his now, and he was never going to let anyone hurt you again.

As the night passed, Mikey stayed by your side, keeping you close, guarding you even in your sleep. And in the quiet moments, as the world outside continued to move, Mikey found himself content in the knowledge that you were finally safe. Safe with him. And he would do anything to keep it that way.

___________________________________________________________________________

It had been two years since Mikey and you had gotten married. Two years of laughter, challenges, and undeniable chemistry that only seemed to grow stronger with time. Mikey, the usually composed and in-control boss of Bonten, had learned to cherish every moment with you. You had become his world, and he had learned the delicate balance between being the ruthless leader of Bonten and the devoted husband to you.

But, of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t still Mikey — the one who could sometimes get lost in the chaos of his empire and forget the small, but incredibly important, things. Like anniversaries.

It was just another busy day for Mikey, filled with meetings, power plays, and his usual Bonten duties. He sat at the head of the long table, surrounded by his trusted members — Sanzu, Ran, Rindou, and Kokonoi, discussing business with the same steely focus as always.

As Mikey continued speaking, his eyes flickered to the clock on the wall, unaware of the time or date. To him, it was just another day in the grind.

But then, the door to the meeting room swung open with a sharp creak. Everyone fell silent as you walked in, your presence immediately commanding the room. Mikey looked up at you, his brow furrowing, not expecting you to be here at all.

You didn’t say a word at first, but the way you held yourself — calm, confident, and unbothered — made everyone pause. Mikey’s confusion deepened when he saw you glance at him, your eyes narrowing in on him, as if you were waiting for him to realize something.

After a brief moment of silence, you broke it with a single question: “Mikey, what day is it today?”

Mikey blinked, clearly taken aback by the question. “Uh... it’s the 15th,” he answered, his voice tinged with confusion.

You tilted your head slightly, not breaking eye contact. “And when did we get married, Mikey?”

The moment you asked that, Mikey’s face shifted. His eyes widened as realization slowly dawned on him. The pieces clicked together, and his eyes widened slightly.

Two years. Two years today. And he had completely forgotten.

You could see the shift in Mikey — the way his usual confidence faltered for a brief moment. The rest of the room was silent, sensing Mikey’s shift in mood.

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Two years, Manjiro,” you said, your voice cool but tinged with annoyance. “And you forgot. How cute.”

Mikey opened his mouth to say something, but you raised your hand, stopping him before he could form a response. “No excuses. I want flowers, a nice dinner, and some serious attention today. And don’t even think about trying to make it up to me with more work.”

His heart sank, and he stood up from his seat, but before he could even start to explain himself, you made your way toward the door.

One last glance back at him — and then you added, with a grin, “And, Mikey? No talking about business today. I want a real date, not more empire talk.”

You paused just at the door, turning around one last time before leaving.

“Oh, and Kokonoi,” you called out, “you’re driving me to the spa for the day. Mikey’s got some serious making up to do. Take care of it for me.”

Kokonoi raised an eyebrow, already used to being put to work on your behalf, but nonetheless, he gave you a wink. “Sure, princess. Let’s get you to your spa day.”

Mikey watched as you walked out of the room, completely flustered. His mind raced as he realized he had truly messed up this time.

The moment the door closed, the silence in the room was broken, and everyone turned to Mikey, their expressions a mixture of amusement and sympathy.

“I’ll take care of the flowers and dinner,” Ran chimed in, already knowing what Mikey needed to do. “You’d better do some serious damage control, boss.”

Mikey exhaled deeply, wiping his hands over his face. “I will.”

Later that afternoon, Mikey stood outside the spa, bouquet of beautiful flowers in hand, his heart beating faster with every second that passed. He wasn’t usually flustered, but the weight of your unspoken expectations was hanging over him. He had been so caught up in the empire, the meetings, and everything else, that he had lost track of the most important thing.

You.

As soon as you walked out of the spa, looking refreshed and more relaxed than you had been all day, Mikey knew he had his work cut out for him.

You noticed the flowers in his hands immediately, and despite your initial annoyance, the gesture softened you. You took the flowers from him, holding them to your nose and taking a deep breath of their sweet fragrance.

“You better make it up to me tonight, Manjiro,” you teased, though you couldn’t help but smile.

He stepped forward, his voice full of sincerity. “I will. I’m sorry, princess. I messed up.” He whispers and kissed the top of his head.

You let out a small laugh, your eyes softening. “Don’t worry. You’ve got tonight to make it up to me. No more business, Manjiro. It’s all about us tonight.”

Mikey showed a light smile relieved to see that you weren’t too upset. “I promise.”

As you both got into the car, Kokonoi watching from a distance with an amused grin, Mikey felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Tonight was about you — the woman he loved, the one who kept him grounded in the chaos of his world. He would do whatever it took to make this night one to remember.

[milkteaandsugar]

Echoes of Tokyo - the journey back home to you - 15. When Love Turns to Ashes (on Wattpad) 

"Emily, don't give up. I know what you found out is shocking, but you don't have any real proof of what happened to Mikey or if he's the ruthless leader everyone talks about. It's too early to give up or to spiral into negativity. If you stop fighting for your fairytale now, you'll regret it. And even if it's true and Mikey has surrendered to the darkness inside of him, that doesn't mean you have to. In fact, it's the opposite. You're the only one left who might be able to pull him out of the pitch-black hole he's fallen into. If you give up now, who will be there to save him?"

[morning-sun-brah]

First Impressions

Art by @sha-biest

(This AU is jointly created and entered into by myself and @sha-biest)

@tmnt-ocxcanon-comp

First Impressions;

As far as first impressions go, Mikey and Hassan got off to a rough start. Mikey spent the better part of a full day behind Hassan’s law office, commissioned to add a mural to the back wall to deter graffiti. Too bad Hassan forgot his assistant had hired him, because when he was leaving the office for the night, he mistook Mikey for a criminal…

“Hey kid, what the fuck? Can’t you go do this shit in the Bowery?” 

Mikey’s eyes narrowed at the figure approaching him, the irritated tone shooting through him like a lance. The man was tall (not as tall as his brothers had grown, but still well taller than Mikey himself- who only stood at 5'8), with dark skin and black hair rich in the bath of the LED light. His suit was crisp and well-fitted, and he stood with a leather satchel strapped over his shoulder, one hand on his hip as he narrowed his eyes at the mutant. 

“C’mon,” the man was rumbling in a chastising tone. “They just cleaned the last graffiti up.” 

Dark eyes swept an irritated glance over Michelangelo, and it suddenly clicked in his mind what was being implied. Mikey felt a wash of annoyance roll through his shoulders. 

“Wow, you’re really fucking dumb,” Mikey clipped, and the man who stood before him narrowed his gaze. 

“Excuse-”

“Read your emails much? How many taggers do you think set up a flood light and announce their presence, you walnut?” Mikey snapped, shaking the can in his hand idly and giving the man an eye roll that was all Donatello- perfected by years of watching his older brother perform the motion. “You think I just, what? Roll out the red carpet for the cops or…?” 

The conversation only deteriorated from there, though Hassan did try to apologize (too bad he never really seems sincere). 

“Fuck you, man,” Mikey barked. “I’m a full-ass adult. I pay taxes.” (He didn’t, but the hell if he was going to share that with Mister Prim-and-Proper.)

“Excuse me for being skeptical, short stack.” 

Mikey’s eyes went round. “Short stack?! Short stack?!”

The man smirked, and Mikey held back the desire to throw the spray can right at his forehead. 

“Tiny, even,” the man added, white teeth flashing. “Pocket-sized.”

Eventually, though, the two of them begin a very will-they-won’t-they relationship, comprised of Hassan sending Mikey gifts, and random text messages that multiply over the course of two years.

They’ll probably figure out they’re in love… probably…

Some songs for the ~vibe~

Bonus, The first-ever sketches of Hassan and Mikey;

Art by @sha-biest

[lola2322kdk]

Again.

Something like an Emma sano x reader × manjiro Sano

Part I

A Tokyo revengers story about a girl who is torn between her feelings to Emma Sano and the voice that tells her its wrong.

And on top of that her crush tries to set her up with her brother.

What will happen when she gets ridden into a lie that ends with her own death?

˚　 ⋆⁺₊✦⁺₊ 　 ˚　.˚ .　 ☁.　　. 　 　

 ˚　. ☁ ˚　.˚　 ✩₊˚. ☾ ⋆ ⁺₊✧  　　˚　⁺₊ . 　

˚　 ⋆⁺₊✦⁺₊ 　 ˚　.˚ .　 ☁.　　. 　 ˚ ⁺⋆₊　.˚ .　. ` ⋆⁺. ☁ ˚　.˚　 ✩₊˚. ☾ ⋆

Imagen begin a normal teenage girl with a normal life. And suddenly you catch feelings for a girl in your school and BAM everything changes.

Like it wouldn't be worse enough that you thought you were straight and had a boyfriend no SHE also wasn't just any girl. She was the little sister of Manjiro Sano. 'The invincible mikey' or just Mikey. The founder of one of the biggest delinquent gang in shibuya, Tokyo. No and that wasn't enough. She also was suspiciously close with this big as dude with a literally dragon tattoo.

'Like am I insane or are they not looking like whole asa adults?' You thought.

But you know I acceped my fate. Telling the world that i discovered that I like this girl more then my boyfriend was also not my plan in the futer. And that's okay I guess? Not everyone can have so much luck like this dragon tattoo guy who's picking Emma up from school with her brother every day. He just could love her without the society telling him that what he feels isn't right and is disgusting.

And there I was just watching this blond gorgeous girl get picked up by her brother and his friend who didn't even thought of the idea to get of his bike to great her. But she didn't care she greeted her brother with a hug and after that him. Him. Or I hate to watch it.

,,I wish this were me"

It came out of my mouth whitout me really realising it. And before I could correct myself my friends and also my boyfriend, who was now looking extremely offensive at me, turned to me shocked.

"You like delinquents? How dare you! All those years..."

My boyfriend turned himself betrayed away while some of my friends chuckled but some just raised their brows.

"You really want to date the leader of a gang? Yn are you insane?" One of my friends asked me concerned like it was some kind of crime.

"No no you understand that wrong not dating. To have a brother who is the leader of a gang. I would assume you would be treated mostly like one itself."

I lied. I tried at last.

But they were buying it.

"So you don't want to trait me to a delinquent?"

My boyfriend asked like a puppy. Argh how much I hated it. Hated him. He was so annoying. Why did I came together with him anyway. Like I tried I really tried but he was so annoying.

"Nahh y/n I don't belive you completely but your right. Like imagine begin treated like a literally princess"

Everyone nod even my annoying boyfriend. 'Is he gay or just annoying' I ask myself. But now I didn't have the desire to make myself thoughs about it. I just wanted to go home. So I stand up.

"Guys, I'm heading home. I still have to do the grocery shopping for my mom. So see ya"

And with that I just left. Whitout waiting for a goodbye.

I just left.

I wasn't lying but I didn't had to be home that soon. They just made me sick. Or he.

"Should i break up?" I asked myself loud while I were wandering around the grocery store looking at thr picture of the list my mom send me on my phone.

"I mean he already believes that i have a crush on one of this random delinquents that show up to our school. So it won't be that surprising"

I keept talking to myself whiout noticing that a strange person were standing next to me.

"Do you meant Draken or Mikey?"

Spoke the unknown voice suddenly. My head turned as fast as possible to the sweet voice who just gave a question to my spoken out thoughts.

'Emma.'

The girl i was watching always in schiol

This stunning girl that almost looked like a angel.

Who was the theme about my night and daydreams and about every though I had the last weeks.

"W..what?"

I was to stunned to speak clearly. I heard her but I hoped that I was just imagine her talking to me. TO ME?!

"I asked if you meant by the delinquents that you were mentioning Draken or Mikey? Like this tall dude or the smaller one"

"Ehh I don't know...both?"

Now Emma was to surprised to speak until she brust out in laughter.

When I relised what I just said I tried to get her attention trying to my clear that I didn't mean what I just had said.

"So then who did you really mean?"

I thought for a moment. Should I tell her the truth that I had a crush on her? No that would be so stupid. And in the end both her brother and his friend would beat me up for hitting on her. No I want to life. Should I say this big dude with the tattoo? It would work but what if she has a crush on him and sees me as a competition. No I don't want her to hate me. What if I say her brother? He is sceary as fuck but I prefer that then she hating me or begin scared of me.

"The smaller one without the tattoo."

I lied. Again. But she was buying it then now her eyes were lighting up.

"So you have a crush on my brother???"

She took my hands in hers I thought that I was in heaven exept from the part what would come next. Then before I could add any explanation that I don't want anything form her brother, she was lighting up even more.

"You know I'm searching after a girlfriend for him for such a long time now so he won't annoy me the whole time! So it's perfect! You're also totally hid type!"

My face dropped. 'What have I done..'

"Ehhh but I still have a boyfriend"

I tried to ride myself out of the situation with my still existing boyfriend card.

"So what ? Didn't you talked about breaking up with him?"

Truth. So truth. Man what happened. 'Please someone safe me out of this situation 🙏😭'

"Yeah..but you know he won't take it well. Mabye even won't letting me go"

My hopes were high that this would convince her not to hook me up with her brother because of that information.

But I was wrong. It was the exact opposite.

She grinned and turned around while still had my hand in hers. And start screaming the name of her brother.

"MIKEYYYY"

My face turned pale and drops of sweat ran down my face. 'Please burry me'

Before I could ask her worried what she planned she whispers in my ear while a familiar face appeared behind a large shelf.

"Play along I will do the rest😉"

And with that she left me with no clue still hands in hands while she guided her brother over to us.

"What happend emma?"

He asked confused.

Lost in my thoughts I didn't notice that her brother was looking me up and down trying to get just by looking the reason for her call.

"Mikey you have to help her!"

Now he was looking even more confused the same as I did. Because like it seems to him there was not missing from me. No bruises, no scrapes. Nothing.

"She just told me that her boyfriend won't let her go. She tried it over and over again but he just controls over her. Isn't that right ?"

Now both of the blondes looked at me. Emma with hopeful eyes and her brother with sepsis.

My face got white and my legs were shaking under the sceptic look of her brother.

'Is he going to beat me up if he finds out that everything is a lie?'

And to make things even worse now also this big dragon tattoo guy came also with a confusing look on his face. I didn't saw him first but as a gigantic shadow towering me from behind I felt like i'm going to die any minute. My legs were shaking so badly it was a wonder that I didn't fell completely.

I nod.

I felt sick. I just wanted to leave. Luckily one of them noticed that I am looking a little to white.

"Eh are you okay?"

I nod while taking hold of Emma's hand a little too hard which caused her to realize what was happening. I was looking visible sceard. And it took that dragon tattoo guy no longer then Emma to relise that too. Ony her brother was standing there completely unknowing.

This big guy with the dragon tattoo tried to clam me down by laying his way to heavy hand on my shoulder.

"Hey you don't have to be-"

It didn't make it better.It made it even worse. Mabye he wasn't aware of his appearance or strength. With his move on top of my anxiety, it was too much. My shaky legs gave away, and my eyes closed. In the next second before he could finish his sentence, I was lying unconscious on the grocery store floor.

The second I fell they were shocked looking all to the ground.I were still a strager for them. Non of them asked after my name so they didn't even knew who was lying on the floor before them. Emma felt guilty for pouching me to much. And Mikey and Draken gave each other the fault that they looked to sceary or to unfriendly. Now they are believing Emmas lie even more. Unfortunately.

Then now they thought that I were also a scared person which was perfect to fit into the role of the oppressed girlfriend who was to sceard to tell her boyfriend 'no'.

Because neither Emma, Mikey nor Draken knew where they should bring me or call, they just decide to take me with them to a park. They decided that Draken had a too sceary appearance (and because Emma already started her matchmaking) the one that had to carrie the unknown girl fell to Mikey. They decided to bring me to the park until I would wake up again. And in case I would wake up on the way Mikey and Emma decided that Draken should keep a 2 meter distance to Mikey and me.(which annoyed him first but after some minutes silence whitout a Mikey that whines he was glad about it.)

While they were walking to the park I woke up. Even more confused why I was moving without using my legs. I was looking around until I relised that I got carried from the leader of one of the most dangerous gangs in tokyo. Manjiro sano aka Emma's brother. I thought my heart was falling down. It wasn't just fear what overcame me but also embarrassment like cold water in a shower which was running down my back. I tried to make myself noticeable to get the chance to flee form this situation.

,,ehm..excuse me"

I said while I tapped on his shoulder.

"Huh so you are awake ?"

"Yeah" was my answer.

I was expecting that he now would let me down but instead he was just keep going. 'Should I say something ? Where are Emma and this Draken guy' I asked myself but this question answered itself as I saw them together befor us chatting or flirting.

"Are they some kind of dating?"

I spoke my thought out loud completely forgetting who was carrying me.

"No not yet" was the reply that I received. I sight. Laying my head back to position to close my eyes again.

What I didn't noticed was that this Manjiro guy found it amusing that I completely forget who carried me sometimes and in the next get black out by just standing next to them.

When we reached the park I opened my eyes again because I felt the person carrying me stopped and tipped with a finger on my leg to signalling me that we were there.

As soon as he was completely sure I was awake he let me down slowly. In the moment my foot touched the ground I realised who was carrying me the entire time. I looked at him with widden eyes. It was Manjiro sano. THE Manjiro sano.

And there it was again the mixture of embarrassment and fear got over me. I started to apologise by bowing and apologising so long until Emma stopped me by holding my shoulders to keep me from apologising.

"You don't have to apologise. Everything is fine okay? You're safe nobody is going to hurt you, okay?"

I looked at her.

'true angel' And there it was coming into my mind again. The lie. Her lie about me. 'Why did i had to nod🤦‍♀️Why can't you just start thinking before acting or talking?!'

"Don't worry we are taking care of your problem but please don't get blackout before us again"

This dragon tattoo guy said while grinning.

I nodded vigorously. Which caused him and the other guy to grin happily even more.

Emma gave me a big smile and a wink. And with that they said goodbye when Emma was sure that I had someone to call and a plan were I was and were I wanted to go.

"See you in school!"

Was her last words before you walked with this two guyes away.

I waited until they couldn't see me anywhere before I fell together again. But this time I kept my awareness and were sitting on the ground. 'How could this happend?!'

And it should get even worse on the next day. Then with the realisation that when they neither knew my nor my boyfriends name that they couldn't find him, was wrong. Then in the next day when I came to school he wasn't there. Now I was a little sceard what they did to him. 'What have I done...' It was my fault that they beat him up. If they even let him alive. I hoped.

A cold shiver ran down my spine. I was again so in my thoughts that I didn't noticed a friend of mine that showed up next to me and were visible talking to me. She asked me where my boyfriend was. I shrugged my shoulders. To which she replied that I should know it as his girlfriend. I replied that we broke up.

Silence.

Silence compered with a shocked face.

And following were thousands of questions. Like what happend? Did he done something? Did you found a new one? Were he cheating? And more and more.

I shrugged my shoulder again and went to class. Letting my even more confused friend behind. She knew something was off. The following strange events only reinforced her suspicions.

Then at the first break Emma Sano came to me when I was walking out of the building. Because i saw her walking up to me with a smile, I stopped what caused my friend to also stop and look in my direction.

She was approaching me hook into my arm and asked me if I'm better now. Which lead my friend to be standing staring at us compleat confused not knowing what was going on. Then Emma wasn't someone who nobody knew. Everybody knew Emma because of her brother. Because of his name. Because of his gang. Because of her blond hair and her last name. Because both had something similar on them. Because she was the sister of the leader fo the tokyo manji gang which everyone tried not to be mess with. It was good to know her for your own safety so that you don't bring yourself into a bad situation and with that in huge danger. But more then knowing her were for the most already to dangerous. Gangs were for people who weren't in a gang or in some underground system a theme you didn't wanted to be seen with.

Matching to this view my friend reacted. She was looking and Emma and then at me like she was missing something.

Everyone knew Emma Sano didn't had any real friends at school. Just some delinquents that did everything for her because she was their bosses sister. But everyone at school saw them more as her Bodyguards. Everyone was nice but also to sceard to get into a friendship with her. Like make a wrong move and your last minutes on earth are counted. And the friends she made were changing school because out of this fear.

'Must be pretty lonely. No wonder that she want me to date her brother. It would be a immediately famale friend for her who would be at the same school at her.'

And now here I were with Emma sano hooking in my arm to who I were still something like a complete stranger to until yesterday.

My friend said nothing and Emma just keept talking and asking questions about me. It was like heaven talking to her wouldn't I have be full of guilt and fear of what will happen to me.

We were going to a bench to set on it. And Emma is starting to grin to me and telling me and my friend her plans in matching me up with her brother. Telling me that her brother asked her after my name. Following were more and more details to her plans of her matchmaking.

And the more she talked about my future with her brother this heavenly feeling turned into one I felt sick with. 'Was that the price to be near her? Is my only option to be near my crush dating her brother?" I felt so wrong just thinking about it.

She wasn't finished when the bell rung so she demands that we will meet in the next break here again so she could tell me the rest of her plan. To which I didn't fully listen after some sentences about that his favourite food was dorayaki.

As soon as she was out of our view and I also wanted to go back to class but my friend stopped me. She looked at me serious.

"Y/n what have you done?"

Was her only question. I turned around looking at her expression which i didn'tknew before.

"What do you mean?"

"You are besti now with Emma? EMMA SANO?"

"I wouldn't say besti"

"But for knowing her for one day you were pretty close"

"And ?"

"You're hanging out with the sister of a gang leader. Are you insane?"

I didn't reply.

"Or are you really into delinquents now?"

"No"

"Then why are you doing that? Why is she planing matchmaking you with HER BROTHER"

"I don't know"

"And what is about relationship?"

"We broke up like I said"

"Do you think I'm stupid? Everything sounds like a bad joke now y/n. Don't tell me you aren't realising it yourself."

I swallow and turned around again to hide my fear and the lump that was slowly forming in my throat.

"I..I don't know"

"Are you serious? Do you know in which dangerous situation you are right now? Dating the leader of a gang are you insane?"

I nood. I knew how insane that is. And if she would know the whole story she would bought me a grave already. I tried to get some words out of my mouth what wasn't easy.

"It wasn't my idea"

"How could it not be your idea?" She asked upset

"I don't want to date neither him nor (boyfriends name)"

"I don't confused"

"I know"

And with that I left without turning back. She was following me into our classroom but she didn't lost a word to me.

But in the second break she came also along to join me with Emma who was already waiting for us on the bench.

'She lookes like a Angel.' I thought while walking to her.

I didn't knew how someone could look that gorgeous. It was a blessing to look at her or even talk to her but it was even so followed by the harsh reality which I tried to forget.

Now she talked about double dates, what the intrest from her brother were again and that when I would be just around enough that he would get clingy anyway. I hated to listen to all that. I want to know HER interest and what HER behaviours are. Not his.

But my thoughts would scare her. That's for sure. And anyway she loves Draken how could I have a chance against him? He is literally 200 meters or something high and looks like a cupboard. I didn't even do sports or were fast. I'm just there. Nothing is special on me.

This break ended with Emma who at last came to the point were she planned our first date. And for people who thought that would be to far. If we didn't stop her she would have been planning the wedding of her brother and me already. Which i'm sure she already did in her thoughts.

And like last time my friend stopped my before I coule go back to class like Emma already had done.

I turned around.

Again.

"Do you know how deep you are in shit? What do you wanna do if he is really going to ask you out?"

I shrugged my shoulders.

Again.

"Do you have an idea how dangerous all this is? Girl now you still still not that deep into it to get out of all of that. Imagine it comes to the point were you have to marry him while you not even liking him."

She was right now i still could stop it. 'But would it then mean that Emma wouldn't talk to me anymore?' Even if I don't like him Emma was near me. Speaking to me. Knowing my name. SHE was talking to ME.

'Emma was enough for me to pretend to like him'

"I don't think it comes that far. Also do I look like a girl a leader of a gang would go out with? I literally had a blackout before him. And who says i don't like him back?"

I said with a smile to her. To clam her and me at the same time down. She wasn't calmed down. Neither was I. But i were hopeful hiding it better than her.

"I see it in your eyes that you don't love him y/n." She whispered but loud enough for me to hear it.

"Don't worry I have everything under control"

I said hooking into her arm and start to walk. Wind was blowing over the schoolyard while we were the last ones to enter the building. Again.

When the school ended I were walking out of the building a person I knew to well took my hand and pulled me to the schoolyard exit. There were waiting two person who I didn't recognise at first or didn't wanted to recognise.

Emma was leading me to my literally nightmare.

There standing were her brother and his friend who was still too big for a teenager and which name i still forget over and over again. I was greated by a mixture of a happy smile and a grin by her brother.

"Hey yn-chan" I hated the name out of his mouth. Because it was the same SHE was pronouncing it.

"Hey" I said uncertain with a smile.

Emma was greating her brother with a huge when this big ass tattoo guy laid his hand on my shoulder again with a grin? Even while doing that he looked scary. I would love to run away now.

"Don't worry everything good taken care of. He won't brother you again."Came from him.

'who?' Was the question in my mind before I relised that they were talking about my boyfriend or should i say ex boyfriend?

I didn't really cared about him but I felt guilty. No matter what happend to him it was my fault. The lie.

“Thank you” came it out of my mouth hesitantly with a nervous smile.

"Yeah no problem. It wasn't a big deal" came it now with a grin from her brother. I nod thankfully. And following were emma who took my arm again.

"Mikey can we take y/n-chan with us? PLEASEEE" SHE asked pleadingly.

Because of my shocked look torwarts Emma, 'i wasn't see that coming' Mikey was now looking at me. 'Man I should have listened to her when she was explaining me her plan'

"Does she even want to come with us? I don't have a problem with it. Do you, Ken-chin?"

'That's his name? No way i'm going call him that. Y/N Remember you know his name deep down.' were my thoughts.

"I don't have a problem with it"

Now they looked at me. 'Mabye I can still get out of the situation'

I looked at Emma with a apologising look on my face. Something I could play slowly better and better.

"I'm sorry Emma but my mom wants me home really early today."

I saw how her eyes felt with sadness.

"Mabye next time but not today" I added quickly not that her brother or her crush would beat me up any minute and to not see her sad again. And it worked she were smiling again repeatedly.

"No problem y/n-chin then see you tomorrow" she said without any hesitate.

'TOMORROW?' Were I screaming in my mind so loud that I could swear everyone around me could hear that scream. I nod. I fuck*ng nod. 'How dump am I?'

She now smiled to me and gave me a hug. 'Wait she gave me a hug. SHE gave ME a HUG. I think I'm dreaming.' Even when I'm digging my own grave right now, that just has made me forget everything bad immediately.

And now I were smiling while waving her, her brother and Ken-chin? a goodbye. Don't worry I didn't spoke this name out loud. It would have been to weird.

Behind me were coming my friend stopping next to me.

"That won't work so ecery time. You know that right?"

I remained silent.

She sight.

But was it I were walking home or pretended to walk there because what I could bear even less than having my friend preach to me about morals, was listening to my mother's new boyfriend who tells me that I would never help around the hous and that I were such a untreatfull daughter.

So I went to the beach. To the water. Enjoying the silence just sitting, doing homework mabye taking a nap. Everything but going home or talking to anyone.

When the sun slowly got down and the streat lights went on, I made my way back home. Still in my school uniform I were freezing a little.

Still walking next to the water I heard a motorcycle from behind wat caused me to go even more away from the street. But when I thought the motorcycle should have been already drove by it didn't. '

Did it stopped?'

'Do i get kidnapped now? Should I turn around to look if it really stopped?'

Were my thoughts.

'What did i had to lose?' And with that I turned around with the hope that this motorcycle didn't stopped for me.

But it did. Turning around with my upper body, seeing emmas brother staring at me like I were some kind of ghost.

"Didn't you should be home early because of your mother?" He ask in a neutral voice.

'What should I answer to that.' I turned around completely.

"I didn't felt going home anymore the second I got here." Was my answer. I saw on his face that he wasn't understanding what I meant completely by that.

"My mother's boyfriend" I added. He nodes. Now he understood it.

"Should I-" before he coule finished the sentence I knew what he meant

"No"

"You could have come with us"

"I didn't felt after a company. I just wanted silence for a day."

"I understand you silence is the best you can have sometimes" He said smiling.

I smiled understand.

He started looking at me and then to the ocean in which action I followed him. Before I turned around again to start walking.

"Should I drive you home?"

I stopped. It wasn't such a bad idea. I really didn't had the desire to walk all the way home by foot. I turned around to face him and i nod.

He gave me his helmet and I set behind him on his motorcycle.

"Aren't you cold. I can give you my jacket if you want." I declined but he didn't wanted to start driving because be saw that I were visible cold. So i took his jacket. In the same moment I had relised what jacket this was. It was a gang jacket. It was HIS gang jacket.

'I just put it on better to not ask any questions.' Where my thoughts. And with that I set behind him and he gave me some simple instructions what to do and what not while he was driving.

I gave him a short "okay" before he start driving with me behind him on his bike.

While driving I put myself around him to don't fall down. Which I found embarrassing because I saw in many movies that people just held themselves elsewhere but I were to sceard to fall down to try any of this moves.

While we were driving I looked at the ocean. "When I would die I want to die here." It out of my mouth without me really noticing it. But he clearly heard it.

"Yeah it's really a beautiful spot"

That was everything we talked in this whole ride. And some minutes later he was stopping at my house. When we stopped suddenly me came the thought.

'Why does he now where I live?' I get down from the motorcycle and gave him the helmet back. When I wanted to get out of the jacket he stopped me.

"Let it on and give me the jacket back tomorrow."

He was still sitting on his motorcycle on the street where I still had to walk a little to reach my house.

"You still have to walk a little I don't want you to catch a cold" he was giving me a grin. He was right. Because he stopped at the main street I still had to walk a little.

"But why do you know where-"

He just grinned ,,don't worry about it. See you tomorrow"

And with that he drove off letting me confused behind still with his gang jacket on.

It smelled after him. I weren't a big fan of it. I would rather have a jacket from Emma. But after some meters I were glad I had it because with every wind breeze I hold the jacket even tighter.

As soon as I stood before the door to my house I put the jacket off and put it in my bag so my parents wouldn't notice it.

It worked. When I entered, my mom just asked me why I took so long to get home, and I lied. Again. Telling her that I had to help out a friend with some schoolwork. After that I took something to eat with me in my room. After I ate, I took the jacket and went to the laundry room to give him his jacket back clean and washed. It was an act of politeness my mom taught me.

And because neither my mom nor her boyfriend should know what jacket this was I had to wait infront of the washing mashine until it was finished, to take it with me and let it dry inside of my room.

On the next day, I put it into a bag and took it with me. Later after school, when mikey and his friend were waiting in front of the school yard for Emma again, who now was dragging me with her, I planned to just give him the bag.

Emma of course already knew the whole story because Mikey told it her and she was also the first who gave me a wink when she saw that I had the jacket of her brother with me. From her perspective everything went on like she planned it.

I got sick of the feeling that her plan actually worked. I didn't want to date him. I wanted to date HER. Why am I so stupid? I should have heard when my friend told me to get out of this situation. But it won't happend right? He wouldn't really have a crush on me? Right?

We were standing face to face. Mikey was curiously trying to get a look inside my bag without me noticing it. He and Draken greeted me and Emma, who still had my arm hooked in hers.

After I greeted me back, I gave Mikey the bag with his jacket in it while I gave him a thankful smile.

"Thank you for the jacket it really saved me yesterday."

Emma's brother replied with a chuckle compared with a grin while he took the bag out of my hand. Later, Emma wrote me that she saw a small pink blush on his cheeks. I didn't see it.

After the exchange, he told me that he let Emma give him my number, and I should write to him if I ever need a taxi again. I nod with a smile. I didn't like the direction in which everything goes.

Draken, who was apparently not informed about what happened yesterday after their gang meeting, where seeable, confused.

But Emma gave him a signal that she is going to tell him the story as soon as they start driving.

And I were coming along like I promised.

Days came and go and it didn't took a month until I were sitting at the beach next to Mikey after his gang meeting what became a tradition because I always sit and look at the ocean and he always drove by this spott on his way home.

Like the other times I set on the beach freezing a little thinking about Emma while looking at the waves, which remembered me of her hair. I liked to be remembered for which person I do all this. Force to like someone I didn't.

I looked at the waves, completely forgetting what happened around me. So i didn't notice when mikey suddenly set himself next to me.

"The water is beautiful, isn't it?"

He asked while looking at the water before us. As soon as I heard his voice, I looked at him. I wasn't scared of him that much. Mabye a little but more I were of Draken. I think this would never go away. The only thing that scared me of Mikey was his dark eyes that were still with joy when I looked at it, but at the same time, they had something sceary on it. I don't know, maybe I was insane.

"I didn't hear you coming," I said, looking at him, still sitting with my hands around my knees and my head lying on it, looking at him.

"I noticed." He said with a grin. His hand came closer to me and brushed a strand from my face while I still looked at him.

I didn't like to begin touched in that direction that much by him because I saw enough romance films to know what the thought behind it was.

'Would just SHE touch me like that'

'But there is no room for a person with thoughts like mine. I have to like him back. He deserves it.'

I just looked at him. Him and his deep eyes tried to find what was the thing thing that scared me of his eyes.

After this intense eye contact, he broke it and tried to change the topic in which he held up a dorayaki smiling.

"This new boy that I meet bought me one"

He said with a smile, looking at the dorayaki.

'You shouldn't hurt him. You have to make him happy.' came it up to my mine watching him begin exited just over his favourite food that I learned.

He broke it in half and gave me on piece. I didn't really liked dorayaki. It was too sweet. But I ate it. It made him happy that I liked the same food as him.

While eating, he talked about the boy he met and what nickname he gave him.

"Takemitchy? What a strange nickname"

"You don't like it ?"

"It's not that I don't like it. I find it curious that you give everyone a nickname."

"Is that really so curious? I find it funny"

"It is for sure"

"Did he liked his nickname?"

"Takemitchy?"

I laughed "yeah him"

He starts to chuckle. "I don't know, I assume he thinks he just forgot his real name because he tries to give me the right pronouncing."

I laughed even more. It wasn't loud but it wasn't fake either.

"I also have a nickname suggestion for you," he told me.

"Really ? I think my nickname is y/n-chin" I asked.

He smiled "yeah but emma is using the same one"

'That's why I like it' I thought

"I like it. It's normal and not too much, " I repeat.

He looked at me sight and then were grinning again like if he got just the best idea out of the whole world.

"But what do you think about first lady?"

I looked at him confused 'first lady, how does that match me?'

"Wouldn't that suit more to emma?"

I asked. It would. I know it she would be the best looking first lady.

"She is my sister. I would never want her to be dating me. I want you to have the name because you should be my first lady."

We're I really hearing that right. I knew that this question would come sooner or later because Emma told me that he hung up the picture Emma took of Mikey and me in his room or that he was talking while sleeping about saving me. What I find strange and weird, but emma found it so cute. Only Draken, which name I finally know, found it also strange and laugh at him when he noticed about who his best friend were talking in his sleep.

Everything in me screamed to say now, but the longer I took to answer, the bigger the sceary thing in his eyes got. 'Do I hold this sceary thing down ? I can't say no. For Emma and for Mikey.'

"Dating yes, but whiteout the nickname," I said with a fake grin. 'I got pretty good at faking stuff I noticed'

A small smile appeared on his lips and as I looked in his eyes it was the first time we I saw his eyes whiteout anything sceary in it. Just ...just pure joy.'y/n you took it too far now there is really no going back anymore'

In reality I think everyone were already assuming we were dating like it wasn't normal that two people who just meet weeks ago meet at a particular time to sit on the water and talk and expecially not when one of them drives the other one home everyday. But now it was official. And he could run around telling everyone that he was dating me.

After we talked a bit more, we agreed when he would take me out to a real date. I agreed. I wanted everything more than going there with him as his date. But it would make him happy. It would make emma happy. It would make draken happy, and it would make the rest of my family happy that i would have something with a boy rather than a girl. The only people who really were concerned about everything were my friends. She knew how I felt, but now it didn't matter. She couldn't help me anymore.

'At least they're happy,' I thought.'