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hoemainexpansion · 2 months ago

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Chapter Six: HOUSE OF BALLOONS: Satoru returns home and you try to adjust to life with him again as he tries to gain acceptance from you and your circle of friends as you finally get an explanation as to why he left you.

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It’s like a Mexican standoff, but instead of guns being drawn, everyone’s just looking around at each other trying to figure out who’s going to make the first move. But that doesn’t make it feel any less intense.

You feel like the elementary school sister who has two senior year of high school brothers ready to defend you from the neighborhood bully. It’s sweet, but you have absolutely no idea how to handle this situation.

Your brain is just going in circles. You don’t want to talk because you don’t want to end up in an argument. However, you have questions that you want answers to, but you don’t know if you’re in the right state of mind to not get too upset. You know your two companions, or guard dogs, as you should probably start calling them, are probably ready for all the shenanigans.

Choso decides to break the silence first and ask the question that you know Suguru is thinking as well, “what are you doing here?“

“I wanted to come home to my wife,” is all Satoru responds with and if you’re being honest, it does make your heart flutter a bit.

“You don’t even sound like you believe that,” okay, so Choso woke up today and chose violence, clearly.

“I do believe it, I just…“ Satoru starts to respond before getting cut off.

“Just what?”

Oh my goodness. This is so fucking uncomfortable. Someone please make it stop. Literally anyone. You don’t even care if the Kool-Aid man burst through the wall like this is a family guy sketch at this point.

“This is an awkward situation okay,” well, Satoru isn’t wrong about that. This is the most uncomfortable. You’ve been in a while. “I just wanted to come home and try to make things work.“

“Are you really going to try? Or did you just get in a fight with your girlfriend and needed a place to stay for the night?“ Oh fuck please make this stop because everything is so tense.

“She wasn’t my girlfriend. She was just a friend who helped me out. And yes, there was a bit of a fight. But I don’t look at this as temporary. I’m here because I wanna be here and I have every intention of staying.“ There was no shaking in his voice compared to when he first got here and you’re starting to believe him.

Choso turns to look at you to see if there’s any signs of discomfort or anything. But you just nod to indicate that you’re okay with seeing how this situation plays out.

“Well, welcome home then,” Suguru adds to try to diffuse the situation. “Did you bring anything with you?“

“Oh yeah, just that bag you brought me.“

“I’ll show you… To where… You’re gonna be… Yeah.” You’re struggling to even form a basic sentence right now. But you’re also trying to figure out how you’re gonna tell him that he is 100% absolutely staying in the guest bedroom until you guys work out these kinks. Guess you’ll just tell him when you actually get to said room.

You walk with him back to the front door so he can retrieve his bag and leave your friends behind to chitchat a little bit about how fucking crazy this situation is. You lead him down the hallway and start pointing out various rooms with the most bare minimum descriptions possible for the time being

“That’s your office. That’s an additional bathroom.” He just follows along as you point stuff out without even stopping. “I’ll give you the full tour tomorrow. It’s just been a long day.”

“That’s fine. I totally understand.”

Good. Now here’s the uncomfortable part. “That’s the bedroom that we share, but I would like it if you stayed in the guest bedroom at least for tonight. It’s just a little fast at the moment.”

“I completely understand.” He nods and seems to accept that pretty well which makes you feel better.

You walk a little more and then point out another bedroom. “That’s the guest bedroom, it has a tv and a bathroom and everything so you don’t have to wander about to find what you want. You can, obviously. But this offers you some privacy so that you can get comfortable.” You open the door and allow him to walk inside. “If you see random stuff in here like clothes and whatnot, it’s probably Suguru’s and I can have him move it out of the way.”

“It’s fine. I don’t wanna cause any trouble.” He sets his bag on the bed and starts to unpack everything.

You watch as he starts laying different things out on the bed and your anxiety immediately spikes when he puts the box of letters on it as well. You know what’s in those letters and you’re incredibly curious to know if he’s read any of them.

“It’s no trouble,” you assure him. “If you need anything, just let me know. You can have whatever you want in the refrigerator, you don’t have to ask. If we run out of something or you need something, you can just write it on the whiteboard.”

“Okay, sounds good. I’ll try not to bother you too much though.” He seems more nervous to talk to you now then when he felt it was his first time meeting you in the hospital and it’s fucking weird.

The both of you just stand there in an awkward silence for what feels like an eternity. You don’t want to create any conflict now that he just got back, but you have to address something that’s been gnawing at your brain since he got here.

“Mei’s not allowed over here,” is how you decide to start the conversation that you really don’t want to have. “If you’re going to have a relationship with her, this is a temporary place for you to stay and she’s not allowed over.” You make sure to infuse those words with the hate you feel towards the situation because you don’t want him to think that this is some light-hearted situation where they get into a lover’s spat and he just sleeps on your couch until they inevitably get back together.

“I have no intention of even remaining in contact with her, let alone going back to her. That’s over,” he pauses before continuing. “Also, that relationship wasn’t what everyone probably thought it was.”

“Oh? What did we think that it was?” You can’t help but ask because hey, he brought that part up.

“We weren’t romantic. She was just helping me out when I was in a tough spot.”

You find it hard to believe that she would be so territorial over a man who she wasn’t dating or sleeping with, but whatever. “Let’s save that talk for another day because it’s kind of late tonight. I just wanted you to know how I felt regarding that.”

“Okay. I just want you to know that there’s nothing between me and her and there never will be. I came back for you and to make things work between us, no matter how long it takes.” His words are nice, but you’ll wait to see if his actions back them up.

“Alright. Well, I’m gonna head back out there for a bit before going to bed. So I guess, I’ll see you a little later.”

You quickly make your way to the door and when you step out, you see Choso and Suguru hauling ass back to the livingroom. They must have just started going back when you said you were coming out and eavesdropping the entire time. You want to judge, but you can’t because you’d do the same thing.

Once you get back to the living room, you see Thing #1 and Thing #2 sitting on the couch trying to act like they weren’t doing what they were doing even though they’re literally in opposite spots.

“You silly kids couldn’t even remember to get in your original spots?” You can’t help but laugh because it’s just so unnecessary to hide this. They knew you were going to come out here and tell them everything anyway.

“Sorry,” is all Choso says.

“It’s fine. So, you guys heard everything?” You ask while taking a seat on the couch in between them.

“How do you feel? You want me to throw him out?” You appreciate how fast Suguru is willing to go to bat for you.

“Thank you, but I’ll wait to see how things go first.” You decide to sink into the couch because you don’t know what else to say. You didn’t think Satoru would ever come home so you didn’t mentally prepare for how to handle this.

“I bet it was awkward as fuck for him to walk into a home that still has all his welcome home decorations hanging everywhere.”

Even though they’re everywhere, you completely forgot about that. You begged your friends to leave everything because the cleaning would give you something to do. But, you haven’t gotten around to it because you wanted to have a peaceful couple of days. But Suguru is right, there’s literally still banners, balloons, signs, etc everywhere. Even his cake is still in the refrigerator, untouched.

“Hmmm. Probably. Sucks for him then,” is all you can say because honestly, you hope he does feel a little bad at seeing everything. You hate that you feel that way, but you do. You don’t want him miserable, but you do want him to see what he’s missing and the hurt that he’s caused by making the choice that he did.

“Choso,” he turns to you when you mention his name, “will you still stay the night?” You didn’t think that would be what potentially caused you to cry tonight, but it is.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” He looks completely befuddled by your question.

“Well… I know that you were only staying here because Satoru was gone and now that he was back, I assumed that you’d be leaving tonight.”

He grabs your hand to try to calm you down, “I’m not leaving you until you ask me to. I’ll stay for as long as you want and you don’t have to worry about me leaving. I know that he’s back, but he’s not really home.”

Good point.

That causes the tears to stop so you take the opportunity to ask a question that you already know the answer to, “would you guys hate me if I went to bed?”

“No.”

“Obviously not.”

You thank them and then go to your bedroom. Now that Satoru’s back, it feels like a completely different room even though he hasn’t been in it and he’s not staying in here with you. If things work themselves out, eventually he’ll be back in here, but it just feels like it’s no longer his place. Choso has practically moved in to always stay by your side and it feels like more of his room than Satoru’s at this point.

“Life is so fucking confusing,” you say to yourself getting comfortable in bed. You felt like your heart was starting the healing process and now all of that has been thrown out the window.

And now it’s time for you to make a decision. Do you allow him to stay and the two of you work on your relationship? Or do you tell him that you’ll help him out until he gets on his feet but that you’re too hurt to figure things out? Is it fair to feel that way? Is it fair to place so much blame on someone who didn’t even know what they were doing?

Before you can spiral for too much longer, your phone goes off and you immediately recognize the sound as Satoru’s text tone.

Satoru: Thank you for letting me come home. I really want this to go back to where it was and I wanna make everything up to you.

Satoru: I know this may be hard for you to believe, but I really missed you.

Even though you don’t want to be rude, you choose not to respond. Honestly, you don’t know what to say and you’d rather ignore it and go to bed instead of being up all night texting back and forth. You decide to just put your phone on the charger and lay down for bed.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

It’s the first day that you’ve woken up with Satoru in the home since before he went missing and you’re not as ecstatic as you thought you’d be, you’re more confused than anything.

This morning, you weren’t feeling too great. Not in a physical way, but more a mental way. You don’t usually do full hair and makeup to walk around the house, but you decide to do it today. You just wanted to look in the mirror and see a glow, even if it’s from highlighter, instead of bags from lack of sleep or red eyes from crying. You even put on your sheer, black robe, that’s covered in bats so that you can feel dramatic and glamorous and you walk around.

You leave your bedroom and make your way straight into the kitchen to find something to start the day with. There’s nothing that you want more than a Red Bull, but unfortunately you have to protect this little being growing inside of you and you’ll still have to sacrifice that for a little while. You decide to settle for making waffles and topping them off with Boysenberry syrup.

Right as you’re about to plate your food and sit down to eat, Satoru strolls his lanky self into the kitchen.

“Good morning!” Okay, he’s too fucking jolly because it’s not like it’s a holiday. But you’re not going to rain on his parade.

“Good morning. Why so jolly? Sweet dreams?” You’re a little curious.

“I guess you could say that.” He was dreaming of you but he’s not going to admit that to you. He already feels that you have too much power over him and you don’t even realize it.

“Want a waffle?”

“I’ll do it myself so that your food doesn’t get cold.”

“Do you remember how to do it?”

“It can’t be that hard… right?” Okay, fair point.

He walks around the counter to the waffle maker as you take a seat with your food and start to pour syrup on everything. You kind of feel like you should make his waffles and put him to work for the bacon because you don’t want to get popped. But you’ll wait to see how things go before giving him orders.

Just as you’re about to take your first bite, you notice how confused he looks. “We have a waffle maker that makes heart shaped waffles?”

“You got it for me. It’s Paris Hilton.” He continues to stand there looking around as if he’s deep in thought, but you know he just has no idea what to do. “Do you need help?”

“Would you hate me if I said yes?” he says, with those bright blue puppy dog eyes of his. If this was any other day, you might throw a fit. But you knew that if he came home, this was the role you were going to have to play for a while, so it’s fine. You walk over to him and start mixing more batter. “Go eat those ones before they get cold and soggy.”

“I’m so sorry about this. I’ll learn again, I promise.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.”

“What did we used to do?” You just look at him hoping it’ll signal for him to clarify because that’s vague as hell. “I mean, on days like this, where we’re both at home. What did we use to do?”

You start pouring the batter in the waffle maker and pretending that you’re really focused so that you can take a moment to think on how to respond. The truth is, the two of you would usually spend the entire day with Satoru trying to get you pregnant, but that may be awkward to say right now.

“Uhhhh, it depends. If we had errands to run, we’d always go together, no matter how mundane they were. Otherwise we would usually hang out at home and watch movies or play games or something. About twice a month we go down to the park and feed the ducks and occasionally we’d go to the arcade where you’d end up claiming that you’re not mad that I beat you because you let me win.”

“Maybe I did let you win,” he says with a laugh. Of course, even with no recollection of those times together, he still has to be the best. Silly goose.

“We also used to go to the amusement park pretty frequently which was nice because you always won the mini games and got me the biggest stuffed animals they had.”

“Is that why there’s a blue bunny that’s basically as tall as me in the corner of the guest room?”

“Absolutely. You spent twenty minutes playing ring toss before you qualified for the largest prize. And now we’ve had Tiffany for three years.”

“Tiffany?”

“The bunny? We named her Tiffany from the Child’s Play movies.”

“We name our stuffed animals? Nice.”

Once your waffles are done, you plate your food and start to walk around the counter to sit at the bar but then you start to feel a little apprehensive. Do you sit right next to him? Or do you sit a space apart? Or even on the other side? You can’t wait until things get to the point where you don’t have to overthink these little things. You decide to sit with a space in between you two and you catch his reaction right away.

“I don’t have cooties, ya know?”

“Don’t you?” Fuck. You already wish you could take that back. This was a nice morning and you don’t want to start it with negativity.

“I don’t. I swear. She and I never did anything like that.” You want to believe him, but your insecurities surrounding the situation are making it difficult. However, you have nothing else to go on so you’ll have to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Okay, but you still smell like her.”

“Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t do that on purpose, it’s just that our clothes got washed together and–”

“Satoru, it’s fine. I didn’t mean to make this a big thing,” you try to reassure him that you’re not as mad as you may have sounded.

“I’m sorry. I’m running out of clothes anyway so I’ll wash it all.”

“I’ll do it for you, it’ll give me something to do. You still have stuff in our closet and dresser in case you need something for now.”

“Thank you,” he expresses in what you think is probably one of the most sincere ways you’ve ever heard someone say something, and it’s just laundry. “Can we do something today? Maybe do one of the things you said we did? The doctor did say that getting back to routines could be helpful.”

“Satoru, if you wanna spend the day with me, you can just say that. I wouldn’t blame you, I’m fantastic,” you remark with a flip of your hair for dramatic effect.

“Yeah, you are,” he responds in such a serious tone for what you thought was an obvious and silly comment.

“I was kidding, Satoru.”

“I wasn’t.” He doesn’t say anything else, he just looks you up and down and then takes another bite of his waffle.

You feel your whole body warm up because you didn’t expect him to say something like that so soon, but you love it.

You continue to sit in silence and eat your breakfast together and just enjoying the time. It’s so weird because you already reconciled with yourself that this was never going to happen again. But now he’s not only here for breakfast, he wants to spend the day with you.

After finishing breakfast, you take him to your shared bedroom so that he can finally see it and he can gather what he needs to start the day.

“This side of the closet is all of your stuff. It’s mostly suits hanging up and more casual clothing and pajamas are in the drawers below. If you need help looking for anything let me know. I’ll go start getting your shower stuff ready.” You go to the bathroom and pull out his extra bottles of shampoo and conditioner out from under the sink and set them up in the shower for him. You even turn the shower on so that it can start heating up for him. “Everything is ready for you.”

He stands there looking confused for a moment and you have no idea why. But then you start to internally freak out wondering if you’re doing too much too soon.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just… is it okay for me to take a shower in here?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well, last night you sent me to the guest room so I just assumed that you didn’t want me in here.” Shit. Maybe you handled that wrong. Or just too vague.

“I just didn’t want you to sleep next to me last night because it was awkward. But you still have access to your bedroom whenever you want it or need something. I’m sorry that I made you feel excluded.” You avert your gaze because you definitely feel bad for how you handled this.

“Okay. I just don’t wanna make you uncomfortable so let me know if I do.”

You nod and then he goes in the bathroom and closes the door.

You take the opportunity to go to the guest room and grab all the clothing that he brought with him and throw it in the washer. You’ll probably have to wash them twice because her perfume is so strong, you can only assume that she actually sprayed his clothing as a way of marking her territory.

After starting the laundry, you go back to the kitchen to wash the dishes from breakfast and try to come up with a game plan of what to do today. You have no intention of going out today, but you don’t want Satoru to be bored so you don’t know what to do. You know that you guys always had fun watching tv and arguing over Monopoly but he doesn’t remember those times and you don’t want him to feel like your life together is boring as a first impression.

You’re not sure what he wants to do so you just grab some blankets and pillows to throw on the couch because regardless of the activity, it’ll still be comfortable.

You also make a trip to your bedroom to grab your phone off the charger and check your notifications. You wanted to be in and out really quick because you didn’t want Satoru to think that you were waiting on him for some reason. But you end up sitting down and checking everything after you get a reminder for your upcoming doctor’s appointment on the eighteen week mark of your pregnancy.

You end up completely lost in thought because the topic of the pregnancy still hasn’t come up between the two of you and you don’t know if you should bring it up, or how. Now that he’s here, should you tell him? Should you wait it out? You feel your pulse start to race when you remember that you gave him the box of letters and there’s more than a few in there that include details of you being pregnant. But he hasn’t said anything about it so you don’t know if he’s read any of them or he’s just waiting for the right moment as well.

And if he did read some, it’s possible that he read them out of order and just by sheer luck, missed all the ones regarding the baby. This is confusing.

You hear the bathroom door open and you look up to see Satoru walking out wearing some pajama pants hung low on his hips and nothing else. You can’t prove it, but you swear he’s trying to make you fall apart. He stands up straight and starts shaking his hair out like a wet dog getting water everywhere and you can’t help but laugh.

“Damn. Sorry,” he says while not looking too sorry at all.

“It’s okay. I’m used to it. You do it everyday” You just laugh it off because it’s one of those little things that drove you crazy until you missed it when he disappeared. You’ll gladly take water spots on your vanity mirror instead of nothing.

“Did I really?” Looks like old habits die hard.

“Yup. I stopped leaving certain things out due to your little pool party.”

“Mei had me cut my hair because she hated the water,” he admits in a slightly sad tone.

“What is she? The Wicked Witch of the West? Can’t handle a little bit of water?” You respond in an attempt to keep the tone light because it’ll bring the mood down if you just say that she’s an awful bitch which you do believe with your whole heart.

He just chuckles and then walks across the room to sit next to you on the bed. He leans over to get a look at what you’re doing on your phone. If he stretched his neck out any longer, he’d probably break it.

“Whaaaatcha dooooin?” He drawls while doing everything to stare at your phone except extend his eyeballs like this is an episode of SpongeBob and he’s looking for treasure on a map.

“Just checking my notifications Satoru. That’s it,” you try to make it sound as boring as possible, because you know that the curiosity is killing him.

“Anything interesting?” he tries batting those beautiful blue eyes at you so you just pretend that you don’t see what he’s doing. You’re not gonna fold like a load of laundry this fast.

“It’s mostly just people asking how things are going with us and then there’s Choso asking if there’s anything we need him to pick up from the grocery store on the way home.”

“More waffle stuff. They came out so good today.”

“Of course the first thing that would come to mind would be sugar for breakfast,” you laugh and send a couple of things to your friend. “What do you want to do today?”

“I wanna hang out with you,” he says without missing a beat and it makes your heart skip one. It’s almost like he was waiting for you to ask.

“But, anything you wanna do in particular?“

“Hang out with you,“ he replies while resting his head on your shoulder. Damn this fucking cutie pie and his ability to swoon you. “Let’s watch a bunch of movies so we can have snacks and I can cuddle you on the couch.”

“How about we start with the movies and then work our way up to cuddling later?” As much as that sounds like something that you would love to do, you don’t wanna move too fast. You really want to make sure that the cord between him and her is completely broken before you completely open yourself back up to potential heartbreak.

You know that if you ask him what he wants to watch, he’s just going to respond with, “whatever you want to watch.“ So you decide to go through your movie collection and pull out things that he always said he wishes he could watch again for the first time And take the opportunity to give him that experience.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

You’re about a half hour into Killer Klowns From Outer Space and you’ve caught Satoru sneak at least 10 glances at you since you’ve gotten comfortable on the couch. It’s so weird seeing your husband revert back to his shy schoolboy ways after years of him being such a dominating presence. But if you’re being honest, you love it.

When you were in school, you didn’t know that he had a thing for you so this behavior didn’t stand out. But now that you know, it’s easy to spot these things and it just makes him even cuter. A part of you wants to tease him by flirting with him a little bit, but you don’t want to drive him completely up the wall.

Even though you’re still perturbed by the Mei thing, you can’t deny how badly you want this man in all of the ways. You really wish that you could click your ruby heels together and everything would go back to normal and if you told him, that’s what you wanted, he seems like he’d do it.

Even though this is one of your favorite movies, you can’t stop your mind from wandering. You keep going back to the box of letters and wondering if he read any of them. If he did, why not say anything about the pregnancy? You kind of wanna tell him about it in case he doesn’t know so that he has the option to come with you to the doctors appointment coming up. You just don’t know how many changes is too much for such a short period of time. But based on how long it’s already been, you’re gonna start showing in ways that you can’t hide soon and you don’t want it to make it worse by you holding out for so long.

Ugh. Confusion. Confusion.

Just as you’re starting to spiral into your thoughts, you catch your not so sneaky husband looking over at you again. Fuck it, you are going to give him a bit of what he wants. Without looking away from the TV, you stretch your legs across the couch and rest your feet in his lap, trying to discreetly catch his reaction from your peripheral vision.

It was worth it.

You can see him trying to hide his smile, but he’s completely unsuccessful at it. Even though he seems a little reluctant at first, he slowly starts to rest his hands on your legs/ankles. When he realizes that you’re not going to move him away, his smile grows even wider. You’re not even going to lie, having this power is awesome.

After a couple of minutes, he starts to massage your ankles and your feet and you decide to finally look right at him and smile.

“Is this okay?” He sounds so unsure. It’s adorable.

“It’s nice.” His smile continues to grow at those words and you never thought something so simple could seem so fulfilling.

“Will you tell me something?” Oh no, please don’t let whatever question he has fuck up this peaceful afternoon.

“About what?”

“About us. You told me a little bit about when we met, but not how.” Ooooh, not that. You spent years loving that jealousy out of him. “What was our first date? Or any? You said that our anniversary just passed, did we have any plans?”

“Slow down Speedy Gonzalez, I’m not gonna remember all of these,” you cut him off. You appreciate his enthusiasm, but damn. “Did I tell you how you smeared sandwich condiments all over my dress on our first date?”

His eyes shoot over to you immediately and he’s completely shocked. “How the hell did that happen?”

“For our first date, you picked me up and drove me to the park for a picnic. However, you were so nervous that it turned into one of those ’if it can go wrong, it will days.’ You started to set the basket and other comfort items up before putting the blanket down. And then when you remembered and put the blanket down, you forgot other stuff. And once everything was finally set up and you were starting to loosen up, you stretched your legs out and kicked a plate that caused sandwiches to fly off and land on my dress and all the condiments got smeared in the lace. That’s all.”

“What do you mean ‘that’s all?’ And you went out with me a second time, even after all of that?“ He asks you.

“Yeah, and the second time was probably worse, in your eyes at least. The second one, you took me to an ice-skating rink since I used to skate a lot for fun. But somehow, you fell in the most awkward way, which resulted in you cutting yourself on the blade of your own skate to the point where we had to leave early and spend a couple hours in the hospital due to the wait time and with you getting stitches. That’s what that scar on your wrist is.“

He lifts up his arm to inspect his wrist, “this one? I just assumed I got scratched by a cat or something. After two failed dates, why the hell would you go out with me again?”

“I didn’t consider them ‘failed.’ I could tell that you were just nervous because you were trying too hard. So, I planned the next one to take the pressure off of you and it seemed to work.”

“What did we do that time?”

“Uhhh… we went on a double date with Kento and some girl he recently asked out and we just went to this little pop up festival that had a bunch of cultural foods and games and stuff. Anyway, teenage Kento showed up in a band tee and some emo combover hairstyle and you kept making fun of him saying that you can look at his family and tell which one forces the rest of them into a Hot Topic against their will.”

“He was that guy??? The one that looks like an accountant?!”

“He used to be one actually,” you pause because Satoru starts to laugh and completely interrupts you. But you’ll let him have his fun. “Anyway, you ripped on him the entire time and the girl he liked ended up not wanting to go out with him again. So, he’s found you annoying since and constantly makes the ‘you could do better’ jokes when referring to you being my husband.”

“Damn. He hates me that much huh?”

“He’s just kidding. He actually interacted with the detectives on your case more than I did to take the stress off.” He nods and you take the opportunity to get a reaction out of him, “he just thinks all your jokes are shit.”

“Hey!”

You couldn’t pass up saying that and it was absolutely worth it.

“So…” he looks completely serious and it starts to make you nervous. You really hope he’s not going to ask about any fights you’ve had because they’re incredibly petty. “I read the letters.”

It feels like your heart starts to beat twice as fast. You’ve been dying to know if he even opened the box but you didn’t want to make things awkward, now you know.

“Really? How many?”

“The first eleven.”

Your mind starts to race as you’re wondering what’s in the first eleven letters. You’ve written over forty and now it’s coming back to bite you. You know that a few have pictures in them, but which ones? How much did you include?

He must sense your brain working overtime and reveals why he brought it up, “why didn’t you tell me about the pregnancy?”

Shit. He does know. Let the awkward conversation commence.

“When I got to the hospital and got your diagnosis, I thought it would be better to not overwhelm you with too much new information at one time. That’s also why it was only Suguru, Kento, and myself visiting you because I thought too many people would be too much. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything at first, he just leans back and exhales. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. I understand your dilemma, but what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You’ve been handling so much alone because you’re too worried about stressing out other people, but what about you? On top of me not being there, you’ve had to handle a growing life inside of you and from the little I’ve seen and heard, it seems like you have a habit of putting your emotions last. I’m sorry that you’ve had to do this alone.” He seems so sincere, you’ve missed him so fucking much.

“You don’t have to apologize either, it’s not your fault. What happened… happened. We just have to work past it.”

“I know. But I couldn’t imagine looking at the person I love leave with someone else to go home and experience the biggest event in my life without them.” Aaaaand you’re crying. “But I promise that you’ll never have to go through that again. I’m here and I have no intention of leaving unless you throw me out.”

“Okay.” You sigh before asking the question that you really want an answer to, “why did you leave with Mei that day?”

“She made me feel like I had to. She was there when I didn’t know if I had anyone else and was doing everything for me. When I told her I was going home with you, she seemed receptive to it, at first. But when the day came to do so, she kept saying I was abandoning her in her time of need after she sacrificed a lot for me and I just felt bad. But if it makes you feel any better, I regretted it the entire time.”

“It does, actually,” you respond with no hesitation.

“She was already clingy before, but when I found out she was planning our wedding…” He notices your eye start to twitch and goes into damage control right away, “no! No! No! I didn’t propose, she just started this on her own. And then she saw me reading your letters and wanted me to trash them if I wanted to stay with her, so I packed them up and I left.” You nod in response. “She also implied that you were sleeping with your friends and I got crazy jealous.”

You can’t even try to stop your laugh before it comes out. It’s not the first time that someone has accused you of sleeping with your friends, to be fair, they are really beautiful. But the nerve of her grasping ahold of a married man but claiming his wife doesn’t need him cause she’s sleeping around is absurd.

“I’ve never had sex with anyone but you Satoru,” you make sure to look him right in the eyes when you say that because you don’t want those insecurities popping up. “Choso has been sleeping in the bedroom with me since you’ve been gone because it’s been hard, but it’s never been sexual. There have been many times where you guys even fell asleep together after making giant forts and playing games so don’t even worry about that.”

At first he looked a little surprised, but he doesn’t look like he’s taking anything personal so that’s good.

But you have one more question to ask him before you can move past the Mei topic, “did you ever have sex with her?”

“No.I swear on everyone I love that nothing sexual ever happened between me and her.”

“You don’t remember anyone Satoru,” you say in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“I remember you.”

Your heart.

Your fucking heart.

If this keeps going on, you’re going to fold like a paper airplane.

Now that he knows that you’re pregnant, you have just one more question, “do you wanna come to the next doctor’s appointment with me?”

“Yes,” he says with a giant smile.

“It’s on–”

“Yes!”

Alright, looks like he’s in on this journey with you.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

It’s been a couple of days since Satoru has been home and you’ve started to fall into a pretty comfortable routine.

You wake up and make breakfast for the two of you even though he insists on learning to help you. You decided to put him to work for dinner since there’s usually more components to that. Then he washes the dishes while you start working on other things.

He was really happy with the movie choices on the first day that you hung out, so he asked you to keep picking things out. You have just been going through his list of favorite movies and put those on so that he can experience them for the first time… again. Although, he was remembering parts of Death Proof so you know that his memory is coming back, even if it’s slow and a little spotty.

You’ve even been playing board games together even though you can’t win Monopoly to save your life. He thought you were just letting him win, but you had to admit that you’re just really bad at it. It’s still fun spending time together so you indulge him anyway. You even pulled out some jigsaw puzzles because you read somewhere that they can help people with memory issues.

You even worked together on cleaning up the ruined welcome home / belated birthday party and you promised him that you’d make up for his birthday in the future. He said he didn’t want you to do anything except grant him permission to dig into the cake. Of course that’d be the part he’s harping on the most. He took about a dozen photos before the two of you practically inhaled it.

You’ve been outside together a few times doing little things like taking a short walk around the block or stopping at the ice cream shop across the street. Everyone who knew you two before everything happened had been welcoming him home and wishing him well. But some people have been maybe a little too enthusiastic about his return. When he apologized to the woman at the ice cream shop for not remembering her, she said, “since you don’t remember your wife? Does that mean I have a chance?” She giggled and you assumed it was a joke but it still activated your jealousy antennas. But Satoru shut her down immediately and said, “just because I can’t remember all the times with my love, it doesn’t mean that I don’t still feel her.” He’s so sappy and you love it.

And speaking of being sappy, you know that he’s going to be today. Today is the first ultrasound appointment that Satoru is attending with you and you’re excited. You’re not usually a morning person, but today you are because you can’t wait to see his reaction.

After doing your normal morning routine, you get dressed and head to the kitchen to see if Satoru is awake. As soon as you open your bedroom door, you can tell he is because the smell of bacon is wafting through your home. As you walk into the kitchen, you can see him plating the food and it makes you hungrier than you were before.

He smiles at you once he sees you walking in and that’s how it is everyday. It’s like he can’t believe that he gets to be here with you.

“Good morning! Hungry?”

“Yeah. But you didn’t have to do it, I could have cooked for you Satoru.”

“You cook everyday,” he says while pouring juice into glasses. “This is a big day and I wanted to take a load off of you.”

You thank him and take a seat at the bar to start eating. After serving you, he takes a seat right next to you and starts eating as well. That’s another thing, physically, you get a little closer everyday. You no longer sit on the opposite side of the room, and there’s a little bit more physical touch. Not much, just resting on each other and some hand holding which is nice. But it still hasn’t moved onto kisses and stuff just yet, but you probably wouldn’t be too upset if it started happening soon.

“Are you nervous about today?” You ask him.

“Mm-mm. I’m excited. I can’t wait to get there.”

Your biggest fear about him finding out you were pregnant was him not feeling like he was ready for a baby. But at least in that regard, it’s like you picked up right where you left off and he’s been gushing for days about how excited he is about going today. Suguru volunteered to drive seeing as you hate it, and it’s probably not good for Satoru to start driving yet seeing as he’s still having the migraines and it’s bright as fuck outside which can contribute to them.

After finishing breakfast, you attempt to get up and wash dishes before Satoru snatches the plate out of your hand and does it for you. But hey, you’re not gonna complain. You decide to go back to your room to get your coat and your shoes since Suguru should be here any minute.

You spare a minute to check your phone and see a bunch of messages of your friends wishing the two of you well on your appointment today.

They’ve all been exceptionally supportive as you update them on the progress that you’ve made with Satoru and that makes you feel good. Although Utahime feels that you should have made him feel bad for at least a week for what he did. But after speaking to him about it a little bit more, you can’t hold a grudge towards him. Mei really is the fucking worst and you genuinely hope that she’s at home feeling miserable that he’s no longer there with her.

“Knock knock. Suguru’s here. Ready to go?”

You grab your purse and the three of you make your way out and to the elevator. Once inside, Suguru asks the question that’s been on your mind for the past few days, “when do you find out if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“I was told that they can start determining that at the eighteen week mark and that’s where we are now, so… maybe today.” You were debating on waiting until they’re born, but after all the uncertainty you’ve had in your life as of late, you’re desperate to know.

“I hope it’s a little girl!” Satoru yells like it’s not just the three of you in an enclosed space.

“Why is that?”

“I wanna put her in one of those onesies that says ‘Daddy’s Girl.’”

He’s so fucking cute.

Once you reach the car, Satoru climbs into the backseat with you.

“Damn. You guys are just gonna treat me like I’m some replaceable Uber driver and leave me up here by myself?” Damn Suguru.

“I wanna sit in the back with my wife!” Awwww. That’s another thing, he gets a little bit more clingy everyday, but that’s hardly the worst thing. It feels more like what the beginning of your relationship was like instead of the uncomfortable situation you thought it was going to be.

“Fine. But no hanky panky in my car.” No WHAT?

“Yes, grandpa,” is all you can muster because what the hell is with the slang from the 1950’s?

The ride to the doctor is relatively quiet, but Satoru does scoot a little closer to you so that he can hold your hand. If he keeps being this adorable, he might have your clothes off by lunch. Unfortunately the thought makes you a little warm and he notices the temperature change in your hand and asks you if you’re okay. You explain it away as just being nerves because that’s not a door that you’re opening right now.

You arrive at the doctor’s office and Suguru decides to wait in the car, so you lead Satoru inside and he’s so excited he’s practically skipping the entire way.

There’s not a lot of people when you arrive so after you give the receptionist your name, they take you back almost immediately and that’s when your nerves kick in. You know that he’s been happy thus far, you just hope that he doesn’t get scared away when he sees everything up close.

“Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Gojo,” the doctor says as she comes in.

“Morning!” Satoru practically shouts in response. This fucking guy.

“How are we today?”

“Good… and very excited.” Before continuing, you give her a short rundown on the situation. She knows that he was missing since you had a checkup while he was gone, but nothing since he came home. So you take the time to explain that if it seems like he doesn’t know anything, it’s because he doesn’t, and why.

“This must be a really big day for you then Mr. Gojo.”

“It is. But I’m excited. When will we find out the sex of the baby?” With the positivity he’s displaying, maybe the two of you should start working on the nursery when you get home.

“If all goes well, I may be able to tell you today. Would you like to know today?”

“Yes,” the two of you say in unison.

You pull up your top and she starts to apply the ultrasound gel on your abdomen and you wince at first from the cold. It’s the one part of this process that you still hate. She grabs the transducer and begins the exam right after.

Satoru stands right beside you and he’s intently staring at the screen to make out whatever he can.

After about a minute, she points the baby out to him, “that’s your daughter.”

You look at Satoru to see his reaction and he looks like he’s completely in awe. He even starts to tear up and that’s when you realize what she said, she pointed out your ‘daughter.’ You’re having a little girl and then you start crying with him.

“Congratulations you two, she’s looking real good,” she says and the both of you start crying more. “I’ll print up more pictures and dvds because I know you want to put everything into a baby book and I’ll give you a minute.” She steps out of the room and you’re grateful because this feels like an ugly cry moment.

“Satoru, how do you feel? You’ll get your ‘Daddy’s Girl’ onesie.”

He looks at you, but he doesn’t say anything and you’re almost wondering if you’ve said the wrong thing. But before you can take it back, he leans down and kisses you. It was quick, but it was everything. It’s been so long since he’s kissed you and it’s everything you’ve missed and more.

“I’m so happy. Thank you for letting me come today,” he says in such a serious tone and you realize that you’ve probably been overreacting the entire time. You’ve been terrified that you were going to scare him away but it seems like he’s working so hard to get closer to you and this moment confirms that he’s going to be there for you. And now, your little girl as well.

The doctor comes back in a couple of minutes later and gets you cleaned up so that you can go back home. She made sure to give you both a copy of the photos and dvds before you leave and Satoru is holding onto them like they’re made of gold. Hell, you don’t think he’d even protect a gold bar by the way he’s gripping onto his baby’s mementos and it’s super sweet.

Once you get back outside, you see Suguru standing outside his car and a group of girls a couple of feet away staring him down. You can’t really blame them though, his hair is literally blowing in the wind like this is a fucking music video. Satoru runs over and hands him the photo like a giddy little kid who can’t wait to tell a story that makes no sense.

Suguru smiles at the picture, but probably more at his friends' flare for the dramatic. “Did you find out?”

“It’s a girl!” The both of you say.

He hums. “Congratulations. We’re gonna have to get that onesie.” He hugs you and you hear a collective gasp from the girls who were probably just planning their future with him. Satoru leans in to give him a wet kiss on the cheek and honestly, it feels just like old times. “Ugh. I was hoping that when you lost your memory, you were going to forget that you do that.”

You just laugh at his antics and get back into the car. Satoru slides in next to you and holds your hand causing your heart to feel like it’s not going yo make it.

Just for fun, you look back to see if those girls are still watching Suguru and you swear that they’re glaring daggers at you instead. “Suguru, it looks like your fan club hates me.”

“Fuck them,” is all he replies with.

“Maybe you should. Then they won’t look at me like that.”

“Mei kept telling me that I should bring my ‘cute friend’ around in reference to you,” Satoru adds.

Suguru scoffs at that. “Absolutely not, she has the same energy as those people who refer to themselves as Bentleys and I want no part of that.“

You completely forgot that people did that until he brought it up. You appreciate confidence, but you still kind of feel like there’s a limit.

Suguru drops you both off at home and once you’re inside, you start rummaging through a box of picture frames you got specifically for the ultrasound photos so that Satoru can put up his new favorite.

He writes 18 weeks on the back, slides it into the frame, and then puts it up on one of the shelves in your living room in between other family photos. “Is it okay to put it here?”

“Of course, it’s your home too.”

“Eventually, we should put them all on display, “he says beaming with pride.

“We can do that. I only have the few ultrasound photos, but besides them, I’ve been taking progress pictures everyday.”

“Every day?”

“Yeah. It was important to you to take progress photos to watch the baby grow, so I’ve been making sure to take at least one a day.” You can tell that he wants to ask you to see them, but for some reason, his shyness is taking center stage. So, you decide to take the pressure off of him. “Do you want to see them, Satoru?”

“Yes!” He exclaims, barely giving you a chance to finish your sentence.

You pull your phone out of your coat pocket, open up the album you’ve been saving all these pictures to, hand your phone to Satoru and then take a seat on the couch. He sits down right next to you and you can tell that the more he learns, the more excited he gets about the entire situation. You were terrified that you were going to have to raise your baby alone, but that’s clearly not the case. You doubt there’s ever been a more excited father-to-be in existence.

He reaches the photos where it looks like your belly has started to grow and there’s nothing in his eyes except for pure adoration. You haven’t even gotten that big yet but you’d swear he’s happy like you’re going to give birth tomorrow.

The feeling of his hand on your stomach is what pulls you from your thoughts. But once you look at him, he shies away, “I’m sorry, was that wrong?”

This poor baby. “It’s okay, you can touch.”

He places his hand back on your stomach and you rest one of yours on top of his. The two of you sit in silence and take the opportunity to just enjoy the moment. When you told him about the baby, he disappeared the next day, so he didn’t really get the chance to experience any of this with you. But now, you have all the time in the world because you’re going to fight for this and enjoy what you have.

It finally feels like you’re parents and you can’t wait to meet your daughter.

The daughter that not a single soul on the planet thinks is going to inherit your genes.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Although things have been going really well with Satoru, one thing has remained the same, Choso.

Even though you and your husband have been spending all your time together during the day, Choso has still been coming by at night, cooking dinner, helping clean, and staying with you.

While you enjoy your time with Satoru, you’d be lying if you said weren’t constantly a ball of nerves. It’s not his fault, things are just still feel a little off as you two try to adjust to each other again. So, having Choso come by at night helps relieve some of that stress and allows you some time to not overthink.

Satoru has been nice to him and they’re getting along the same way that they did before, but you have noticed that he looks a little less vibrant once Choso shows up. You can’t really blame him. You’ve been getting along so well and then another man shows up and he eventually goes back to the guest bedroom by himself can’t be the best feeling. But you plan on changing that and soon. Honestly, you’re missing the intimacy of sleeping next to your husband and you feel like you might be ready to take that step.

Ugh, how weird is life that you have to get used to your husband again?

“Chosooooo,” you say while helping him clean up after dinner.

“Hmmm?”

“So… I’ve been thinking… about… something…” you drawl. You don’t know why you’re so nervous, it’s not like he’s going to get upset with you.

“What have you been thinking about?”

“I’ve been thinking about asking Satoru to sleep with me.” Choso raises an eyebrow and you start to backtrack. “Not in a sexual way! I just meant to sleep next to me.’”

He cuts you off before you start to ramble, “chill out. You’re acting like your parents just caught you in bed with a boy.“ He pauses and takes on a slightly more serious tone, “are you sure you’re ready for that?“

“I think so. I thought I was going to need more time, but things are going really well between us and I don’t want to kill the momentum. Plus, I just really miss being able to wake up next to my husband. I also feel bad that after everything he went through, he comes home to a wife who sends him to another room.”

“Well, to be fair, he did make a pretty big choice that hurt you,” he says.

“I know. And since he’s been back, we’ve talked about it and I understand why he did it. I just don’t want to actively hold a grudge when things feel like they’re in a good place.”

“Well… then I think you should go for it.”

“You do?” You ask in surprise. He and Suguru have been the most upset about the Mei thing to the point where you thought he was going to suggest holding a grudge for a little longer.

“Yeah. I agree that if you feel like something is going in the right direction, you should follow it. I’ll stay in the guest bedroom for tonight and if things keep going good, I’ll move my stuff out tomorrow.”

“Are you sure that you don’t want to sleep between us like a kid that got scared of a storm?”

He scoffs. “Maybe between you and Kento. But now six foot three Satoru who kicks in his sleep.” You giggle in response because that’s the one complaint you have about sleeping next to him. “Speaking of, what’s going on with Kento?”

“Now that the investigation has slowed down and Satoru has come home, I demanded that he return to work. He canceled a few big projects for me and I’ve been feeling bad about it. He was offered a shoot in Italy and I begged him to take it, he should be back in a few days.”

He hums in response and you head to the guest room to talk to Satoru. You’ve been thinking all day about asking Satoru if he wants to take this next step, but now that you’re outside of the room, you start wondering if you’re moving too fast. But you decide to just go for it. You knock on the door and when you hear a response, you step inside.

When you enter the room, you see Satoru laying in bed, one arm behind his head, as he plays around on his phone. If you didn’t have any self control, you’d be riding him into the sunset before he realized what was going on. The doctor did say that during your second trimester, your sexual desire is going to increase. Maybe that’s what’s making you feel so feral lately.

“Can I speak to you about something?”

Instead of responding, he tosses his phone to the side and gives you his undivided attention and you take that as a cue to continue.

“So… I was about to go to bed and I wanted to know if you wanted… to sleep with me?”

His eyes are wide as saucers and even though that reaction shouldn’t surprise you, it still does, a little bit. “Sleep with you?”

“Yeah. I’m not really ready for anything sexual, just yet.” That’s hilarious to say considering the fact that you’re pregnant. “But I was thinking that we could try sleeping in the same bed again.”

“I’d love that. But what about your friend?”

“He said that he’ll take the guest room so that you can sleep with me. So, what do you sa–”

“Yes!”

He follows you out of the guest room and back to the bedroom that you’ve shared for years and even though you can’t see him, you can tell that he’s practically skipping down the hallway behind you.

Once you step inside your bedroom, you see Choso coming out of the closet.

“I’m just getting work clothes,” he looks right past you at Satoru who must have had a sour face. “See you tomorrow,” is the last thing he says before walking out of the room and closing the door behind him.

You turn to Satoru and smile before starting your bedtime routine. You have dual sinks in your bathroom so he’s able to join you while you brush your teeth and wash your face and it’s nice to feel like things are returning to normal. You never thought something so mundane as getting ready for bed would make you feel like you’re falling in love all over again.

You go to your walk-in closet to look for something to wear to bed. You end up settling on one of Satoru’s tee shirts because honestly, when was the last time that you wore anything else? When you step out of the closet, you see that he’s already laying in bed.

“What if that was my side of the bed, Satoru?”

“Then I was a shitty husband because the man is supposed to sleep next to the door.”

“Awwww. Thank you for offering to be my human shield in case anything happens.” You crawl into bed on the other side, plug your phone in, and then roll over to face him.

He turns to face you as well before taking your hand in his and you two sit there like that for a little while. You thought that this might feel weird, but now you kind of regret not doing it sooner.

“Tell me something,” he prompts you.

“About what?”

“Us. What was it like the first time we did this?”

“Mmmm.” You think back on the day as a fond memory, but it was definitely filled with his chaotic energy. “The first time that we spent the night together like this was right after you moved out. You got your own place the second that you turned eighteen because you didn’t want to risk your parents walking in on you in the bed with me and then them having a bad impression of me. You ended up getting a place pretty close to my school so that I could go over whenever I wanted and it soon became our first home.” You take a break to giggle thinking about how silly he was when you first went over there. “You asked me to spend the night and quickly emphasized that you didn’t mean it in a sexual way to do damage control even though I didn’t accuse you of anything. And then when I got there, you had literally no furniture except for a lamp and a mattress on the floor.”

“And you stayed?!” He almost sounds more in shock than your friends did when you told them.

“You also had enough clothes for a few days in the closet and some snacks in the pantry. But as soon as I was about to enter the room, you panicked and blocked it off like you were human caution tape. I kept trying to ask you what the problem was, and all you could say was’ it’s not ready!’ And I was like, why the hell did you bring me over here to spend the night if you didn’t want me to spend the night in the apartment that’s not ready? Finally, I got you too move and you immediately started to apologize for not having it more set up.“

“Did I ever explain why this sounds like such a mess?“

“You said you were just too excited, so I didn’t hold it against you. I thought it was cute that you wanted to spend so much time with me that all rational thought went right out the window.“ He starts to laugh at the absurdity. “Anyway, I had a phone stand in my purse, and we ended up ordering food and then falling asleep to something on our makeshift tv. It was cute. Even though you like to kick a lot in your sleep.”

“I’d hate to ruin my chances here, but you could probably raise your standards,” he says with a chuckle. “What happened after that?”

“The next morning I went with you to go furniture shopping. But that just resulted in you getting everything that I picked out even though it was your place. People used to make jokes saying that they couldn’t even tell that you lived there. We ended up staying there all the way up until we got married and moved here.“

“Hmmm. From what I’ve heard, the beginning of our relationship sounded so clumsy.” You giggle a little bit because, well, he’s not wrong. “Thank you for giving me all those chances. And thank you for giving me this last one. I may only remember bits and pieces, but I can’t imagine not being without you.“

You squeeze his hand to let him know that you feel the same. Being in bed with him now makes it feel like everything you went through was worth it. Yeah, it’s nice to hang out with someone, go out with friends, etc. But it’s the intimate moments like this that matter the most to you. You’re just so grateful that it’s not taking months for you to get back to where you were.

He scoots a little closer and places his soft lips on yours causing your breath to hitch. This is not one of those hot and heavy tongue down your throat moments. But it is one of those ‘I can’t live without’ kisses and you move to kiss him back. It’s sweet, slow, and he lets out a soft moan causing all of your feelings to flood down to your sweet spot. You don’t want to move too fast when it comes to sexual things, but you are going to enjoy this.

He pulls his hand away from yours and brushes your hair away from your face. He cups your face and you lean into his touch even more as if parting would cause you physical harm.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says once he pulls away from your lips. But before you can respond, he’s kissing you again and you can’t remember what you wanted to say in the first place.

You pull away because you know that if you don’t do it now, you won’t do it at all and you want to spend a little bit more time with him before you dive head first into that part of your relationship again.

“Goodnight,” you whisper.

Then you turn around and lay facing away from him. He’s still for a moment before you feel him scoot closer to you and wrap his arm around your waist, exactly how he always used to. He pulls you a little closer and tucks his face into your neck and you decide not to fight off the smile that’s forming because it’s not like he can see it anyway.

This is it.

Pure bliss.

#Jujutsu Kaisen #fics #fics*#rain*#rain #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen fics #satoru gojo fics #suguru geto x reader #choso kamo x reader #geto suguru x reader #kamo choso x reader #suguru geto x you #geto suguru x you #my stuff

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bunniesssstuff · 1 month ago

Text

MAYBE IN OUR NEXT LIFES?

pairing Nishimura Riki x reader warnings none for this chapter genre romance, slice of life, angst, unrequited love, word count 10.1k

CHAPTER TWO-

Unsaid, Undone, Unavoidable

The late afternoon sun slanted through the windows of the gym, casting golden lines across the polished wooden court. The faint squeak of sneakers echoed as the basketball team gathered, energy buzzing in the air. And right at the entrance, walking in like he belonged, was Kaoru Minami. Black hair, slightly tousled. Sleeves lazily rolled up. Smile just shy of cocky. He was handsome. Objectively so. The kind of handsome that didn’t try too hard but still managed to get attention. He gave a casual nod as he approached the court, his duffel bag slung over one shoulder.

“Kaoru! You made it!” Hayato called, grinning as he jogged over, clapping him on the back like they were old friends.

The other boys followed suit, greeting Kaoru with curious smiles and casual fist bumps. After all, it was his first official team practice.

Everyone seemed eager to welcome him.

Everyone except Nishimura Riki.

Riki stood off to the side, arms crossed, eyes narrowed just a fraction. He didn’t scowl—he never did—but his expression was flat. Unimpressed. Measuring.

He’s not that special, Riki thought, watching as Kaoru exchanged a quick back-and-forth with Hayato, their laughter carrying through the gym. Let’s see if he can actually play.

Coach blew the whistle. Practice began.

They started with warmups—sprints, dribbling drills, passing routines. Kaoru kept up, fluid and controlled. His movements weren’t flashy, but there was a certain ease to them. The team was warming to him fast.

Hayato, naturally, made things chaotic, throwing in wild passes, challenging Kaoru with playful trash talk. The new boy responded with a calm grin, meeting Hayato’s energy without trying to outshine him.

Riki watched in silence.

During scrimmage, Kaoru proved himself again—not with dramatic dunks or highlight plays, but with smart positioning, solid defence, and clean assists. He wasn’t there to be a star. He was there to play well.

Riki clicked his tongue softly.

Fine. He’s decent.

But there was something about Kaoru that rubbed him the wrong way.

Maybe it was the way he moved, like he was never in a hurry. Maybe it was how quickly he blended in with the team. Maybe it was because, earlier this week, Riki had seen him offer you a towel with that same casual smile.

Not that it mattered.

The whistle blew again. Practice ended with high-fives, shouts of “Good game!” and Hayato declaring Kaoru “officially initiated.”

Kaoru grinned, wiping sweat from his brow, and as he passed Riki, their eyes met.

For a second, nothing was said. But something crackled in the air between them.

Riki’s gaze said: You’re not as good as they think yet. Kaoru’s smile said: Guess you’ll have to find out.

Neither broke eye contact first.

Meanwhile, on the other side of campus, the world was far less testosterone-fueled.

Hana was leading her club’s planning committee, animatedly pitching an idea for a “haunted café” for the upcoming cultural festival. Her energy was borderline chaotic, gesturing wildly, rallying people with her sheer force of personality.

Aoi was more subdued, quietly organizing art supplies for her illustration club’s display booth. But even then, her thoughts drifted. Every now and then, she’d glance out the window, wondering if the basketball team was still practicing. If Hayato was still being loud and reckless. She doodled in the margins of her notebook—another little sketch of him, mid-laugh.

The campus was alive with preparation, buzzing with students juggling club duties, festival plans, and the usual academic burdens.

And yet, in a small corner of the school library, time felt painfully slow.

You sat hunched over a desk, glaring at your math homework like it had personally insulted your ancestors.

Equations swirled on the page, numbers taunting you with their smug little symbols. No matter how hard you focused, the solutions danced just out of reach.

“Ugh,” you groaned, slumping forward dramatically.

The library was quiet, save for the soft rustle of pages and the distant hum of the air conditioner. No chaos here. Just the oppressive weight of unsolved problems.

Defeated, you pulled out your birthday AirPods—an early gift from your parents who’d wanted you to “enjoy your study time more.” Clearly, they hadn’t accounted for the math-induced suffering.

You connected to your playlist.

Soft indie beats. A few nostalgic tracks. A sprinkle of K-drama OSTs you’d never admit to loving publicly.

The music was a balm. A buffer between you and the cruel world of algebra.

You tapped your pencil rhythmically against the desk, eyes closed, letting yourself drift for a moment.

In this bubble, there was no math. No Riki bringing you lychee gummies. No Hayato being too charming for Aoi’s fragile heart. No Kaoru existing with his nonchalant towel-offering charm.

Just music. And you.

When you opened your eyes, the problems were still there. But they felt less loud. Less suffocating.

You scribbled an attempt at solving the next equation. Wrong. Of course.

You sighed, flipping your pencil between your fingers. Your gaze wandered out the library window, catching the faint blur of movement from the gym in the distance. Probably still practicing, you thought absently.

A small smile tugged at your lips.

This was your ordinary. Your mess of a life.

And honestly? You wouldn’t trade it.

Back at the basketball court, practice was winding down.

“Good hustle today,” Coach announced, clapping his hands. “Kaoru, solid debut. Keep this up.”

The team cheered, Hayato throwing an arm around Kaoru’s shoulders, pulling him into a playful headlock.

“See? Told you it’d be fun,” Hayato grinned.

Kaoru laughed, brushing him off. “You undersold how much running there is, though.”

“That’s the charm, man. Builds character.”

Riki remained off to the side, toweling off his sweat, observing silently. He hadn’t said a word to Kaoru the entire practice beyond what was necessary.

As the team began to disperse, Kaoru caught up to him.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Kaoru asked, tone light.

Riki shot him a glance. “Don’t need to.”

Kaoru tilted his head. “Fair. But you watch a lot. Calculating. I get it.”

Riki didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. But there was a flicker of mutual understanding. Not friends. Not rivals. Just… aware of each other.

Kaoru smiled again, the same easy grin that had started to annoy Riki. “See you around, Nishimura.”

Riki gave a curt nod. And that was that.

The sun dipped lower as you packed up your things, math still unsolved but at least slightly less painful. Music had helped. A little.

With a sigh, you unplugged your AirPods, tucking them into their case with a small, absentminded smile. The library had emptied out, the soft murmur of students replaced by a stillness that settled into the corners of the room.

Outside the windows, streaks of amber and soft rose painted the sky. The world was slowing down, but inside your head, the chaos of unsolved equations and unspoken thoughts still hummed.

You slung your tote bag over your shoulder, the weight of your math notebook heavier than it should be. Your steps echoed softly as you made your way between the towering shelves, tracing familiar paths out of the library.

As you passed the front desk, the librarian gave you a knowing glance—the silent sympathy of someone who had seen one too many students lose a battle to homework.

You smiled back, sheepish.

The school felt quieter now. The usual rush had faded, leaving only the lingering warmth of a campus winding down after a long day.

The air was cool when you stepped outside. Crisp. The kind that hinted at the changing seasons, even if summer still clung to the air.

You took a deep breath. Another day survived.

Not perfectly. Not gracefully. But survived nonetheless. And somehow, that felt enough.

You had just slipped into your softest house t-shirt and were about to make a very questionable decision involving leftover instant noodles when your phone rang.

You groaned, grabbing it from the desk. Hana. That meant either drama, chaos, or snacks. No in-between.

You picked up. “What’s up?”

“DROP EVERYTHING,” Hana shouted. “WE HAVE A PROBLEM. CODE. RED.”

You blinked. “What?”

“The Cultural Fest. It’s in two weeks. They just announced the format—this year, the first two days are open to the public. Kids are coming. Families. Probably babies. It's gonna be chaos.”

“Okay…?”

“And,” Hana continued dramatically, “students have to form groups of 3 to 4 and pick an activity. Only three groups can pick the same activity. After that, it’s locked. FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED.”

You sat up straighter. “Wait, what? I thought we were doing a class booth or something?”

“Nope. This year, it's more like an exhibition. Freestyle. School's experimenting. Probably to look ‘progressive’ or whatever. Point is, WE NEED TO MOVE.”

“I—okay—who's in our group?”

“You, me, Aoi, and maybe… Kaoru, if he hasn’t been claimed.”

You blinked again. “Kaoru? The new guy?”

“Yeah, he seems creative. Also maybe dumb enough to follow us into whatever disaster we plan. Anyway—GET TO SCHOOL EARLY TOMORROW. Options are vanishing fast.”

You glanced at the clock. Options vanishing… Kaoru maybe in… Groups forming now…

“I’m so late,” you whispered.

The next morning was a blur.

You practically flew through your morning routine, brushing your teeth while brushing your hair and almost putting moisturizer in your coffee. You arrived at school ten minutes after the bell and sprinted to the bulletin board where student activity forms were being tacked and tracked.

It was chaos.

Students were already forming little clusters in the hallway, pointing at the laminated list of activities.

Café booths. Game stalls. Art corners. Mini escape rooms. Fortune-telling tents. A scavenger hunt. Dance corners. Balloon darts. DIY candy stations.

And beside each activity was a tiny, horrifying set of boxes.

Only 3 groups per activity. So many were already filled.

You spotted Hana and Aoi standing at the side of the hallway near a folding table, clutching a clipboard like it held national secrets.

“I told you to get here earlier,” Hana said, half out of breath. “We're running out of good stuff.”

“I tripped on my own sock,” you replied grimly.

“Fair.”

“Did we pick anything yet?”

“We were this close to getting the scavenger hunt slot. We even had the form in hand.” Hana clenched her fist like she was reliving a battlefield tragedy.

“And then?” you asked, your heart sinking.

Aoi spoke softly. “Hayato came over.”

You blinked. “And?”

“And…” Hana growled, “Aoi gave it to him.”

You turned to your friend. “You what?”

“I panicked!” Aoi whispered, cheeks flushed with humiliation. “He looked at me and said ‘Oh, were you guys taking this one too?’ and I just—my hand moved on its own!”

“You retracted our activity for a smile?”

“He’s so pretty when he’s confused!”

You looked at Hana, who was visibly vibrating with rage.

“I was ready to duel him in broad daylight,” Hana said, her eyes sharp. “I was about to throw hands with Kenta. Riki was there too. You know what he did? Nothing. Just stood there, silent and smug.”

You grimaced. “So… they’re taking the scavenger hunt?”

“Yup. Hayato, Riki, and Kenta. Basketball boys forming the dream team of heartbreakers,” Hana muttered. “And now we’re back at zero.”

You turned to the bulletin board again. “There has to be something left.”

Most of the fun ideas had been claimed—classics like fortune telling, karaoke corners, and cupcake decorating booths were already filled out. Only the oddball ones remained.

“Slime-making,” Hana read off. “Or… paper fan calligraphy?”

“I swear I will drop out,” you mumbled.

“OR,” Hana said slowly, “we could fight back.”

Aoi looked up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean we go talk to them. Maybe we can negotiate. Or intimidate. Or guilt-trip Hayato. He’s got a conscience. I’ve seen it.”

You stared at her. “You want us to go confront Riki and his two meters tall friends and try to reclaim the slot?”

“Why not? What’s the worst that could happen?”

“You mean besides social death?”

But something stirred inside you. Maybe it was the collective embarrassment of being steamrolled out of a decision by Aoi’s crush. Maybe it was the fact that you were tired of being the quiet one who let everything slide. Or maybe… just maybe… it was the memory of Riki patting your head the other day, like you were some child.

Your hand clenched into a fist.

“No,” you said.

Hana blinked. “No?”

“No,” you repeated, eyes narrowing. “We’re not giving up that activity.”

Aoi and Hana both turned toward you in stunned silence.

You took a deep breath. “Where are they?”

The boys were still hanging out by the gym doors, casually leaning against the wall like this wasn’t the cause of a social apocalypse.

Hayato was laughing at something Kenta said. Riki stood to the side, a bottle of water in one hand, looking disinterested as ever.

You approached, heart pounding but legs steady.

As you neared, Riki’s eyes flicked to you.

You ignored the nerves clawing at your throat.

“Riki,” you said, voice steady. Stern. “We’re not giving up that activity.”

Kenta blinked. Hayato looked confused.

Riki tilted his head slightly, eyebrow raised.

“We had the form first,” you continued. “We were right there. You guys showed up after.”

Riki didn’t respond. Just looked at you. Calm. Unmoving.

You reached out—half out of habit, half out of frustration—and gripped the sleeve of his basketball jersey. Ew. Still damp. Why is it still damp?

“Just because you stand around looking silent and cool doesn’t mean you can swoop in and take stuff.”

Still, he said nothing.

And then—he patted your head. Again.

A single, casual pat. Like you were a tired kitten. Like you were harmless.

And without saying a word, he walked past you, heading down the hallway.

You stood frozen, mouth slightly open.

Hayato gave you a sympathetic shrug before jogging after him.

Kenta followed, offering a low whistle as he passed you. “That was… bold.”

Back by the signup table, Hana stared at you like she had just witnessed a sacred ritual.

“Y/N,” she whispered. “You… stood up to Riki.”

“I grabbed his sleeve,” you whispered back. “It was sweaty. I touched basketball sweat for this.”

Aoi clutched your arm. “Are you okay? Do you need hand sanitizer? A support group?”

“He patted me. Again.”

“Like, ‘aww you tried’?” Hana asked.

“Like I’m a confused pet.”

A beat of silence.

“We need revenge,” Hana declared. “We are reclaiming our dignity. We’re going to find a better idea than theirs. Something legendary.”

You slowly nodded, still stunned.

“Something that'll make Riki wish he let us have the scavenger hunt,” Aoi added, recovering her spark.

You looked at the nearly-full list again, your blood simmering now. Fine. You’d find something else. Something better. And you’d win that prize money.

Riki Nishimura could keep his smug face and his lychee gummies. Game on. For now.

- The three of you sat slumped at a desk in the corner of the hallway like soldiers who had just survived a brutal war. Hana’s head was buried in her arms. Aoi was gently poking her own cheek like she’d short-circuited. You, the only one upright, were flipping through the Activity List Binder From Hell, your eyes glazed and soul already halfway to the afterlife.

Page after page, idea after idea—gone.

“Balloon darts?”

“Taken.”

“Mini-game station?”

“Gone.”

“Matcha mochi making?”

“Snatched by Class 2-B before we even got here.”

The pages were covered in red Xs, sign-up tables completely filled. The binder was thick. Heavy. Probably cursed. If a student dared to flip through all of it without losing hope, they deserved extra credit and possibly a national award.

“We are going to die,” Hana mumbled, her voice muffled by the desk.

“This is how it ends,” Aoi added. “Not with drama. Just slow, quiet failure.”

You sighed, turning another page. Your fingers were sore. Your nails were threatening to snap. Each page felt like another confirmation from the universe that you were, in fact, doomed.

You were halfway through the second-to-last page when Hana groaned, lifting her head. “Let’s just do the slime-making thing. We can dump glue on people and call it performance art.”

“Or we could pretend to be a booth,” Aoi offered weakly. “Just stand in a corner and vibe. Performance installation.”

You flipped one more page.

And then you froze.

Your eyes widened.

Your fingers actually trembled.

“…Guys?”

No response.

“Guys,” you repeated, louder.

Aoi sat up. “What?”

You turned the binder toward all of them.

The last page—literally the very last item on the very last page—held a small, barely visible activity title, written in slightly crooked font:

DIY Keychain & Phone Charm Station → Make your own designs using beads, shrink plastic, clay, string, and more! → Beginner-friendly! Super fun! Bring your besties!

“OH MY GOD,” Hana gasped, grabbing the page. “This is adorable.”

“Wait,” Aoi leaned closer, squinting. “Nobody’s signed up.”

You all stared at the row of empty checkboxes.

Not one name.

Not a single stamp.

Untouched.

Unclaimed.

Pure. Sacred. Waiting.

Your heart thudded. “I think… no one made it this far in the binder.”

“Because normal people would’ve given up,” Aoi whispered in awe.

“But we are not normal people,” Hana breathed. “We are DESPERATE.”

There was a beat of perfect, silent understanding.

And then chaos.

“GIVE ME A PEN,” Hana screeched, lunging into her backpack. “WHERE’S THE SIGN-UP STAMP? WHO’S GOT THE OFFICIAL SHEET?”

Aoi was already halfway to the teacher’s desk down the hall, yelling, “I’M GETTING THE SUPERVISOR!”

You stood frozen for one more second, staring at the activity listing like it had just handed you a golden ticket.

And honestly, maybe it had.

Fifteen minutes later, it was official.

You had secured the DIY Keychain and Phone Charm station.

No one else had flipped far enough to find it. Everyone was too busy fighting over haunted houses and maid cafés. The supervising teacher had looked surprised anyone had even seen that option.

But you, Hana, and Aoi were beaming.

“We are geniuses,” Hana declared, arms crossed proudly.

“Genius by desperation,” Aoi corrected, “but I’ll take it.”

“Just think,” you said, practically vibrating, “we get to design our own charms. There’ll be beads and shrink plastic and—ooh, we could do custom name keychains. And glitter. And probably clay.”

“AND,” Hana added dramatically, “the prize money is 40,000 yen. Forty. Thousand. That’s like… so much boba.”

“AND,” Aoi chimed in, “those tickets to the new amusement park. People have been trying to win those for months.”

You looked at each other, the giddiness bubbling just beneath the surface.

“Do you know what this means?” Hana whispered.

You nodded. “We go all in.”

Within the hour, the trio had claimed a corner table in the courtyard and were surrounded by paper, glitter pens, and dangerously colorful sketchbooks.

You were planning booth design. Pricing. Materials. Signage.

“Okay,” you said, scribbling ideas into a list, “we’ll need charms people can assemble fast. Like pre-designed sets. And then some personalized stuff for extra.”

“Clay keychains in cute shapes—stars, hearts, tiny animals,” Aoi added, sketching a cat charm that would later become iconic.

“Shrink plastic for name tags. We’ll need pens that won’t smudge, and a toaster oven to bake them—”

“I have one!” Hana yelled.

“What?” you and Aoi turned to her.

“I mean. My mom does. We don’t use it. It’s ugly. We can totally borrow it.”

You were too hyped to question it.

For the rest of the day, you plotted like your lives depended on it.

And honestly? It kind of did.

Because the stakes weren’t just the prize.

It was pride.

It was proving you didn’t need to beg anyone for activity scraps.

It was showing Nishimura Riki that a pat on the head wasn’t the end of your story.

And somewhere between budgeting clay costs and designing display signs, you realized something:

This wasn’t just fun.

It felt right.

Later that afternoon, the courtyard had mostly cleared out. Students had returned to their clubs, sports practices, and planning committees.

You stood in the sun, holding your freshly stamped project approval sheet, while Aoi carefully tucked the rough charm designs into a folder.

Hana sat on the table, legs swinging, eating a strawberry milk popsicle she had somehow acquired during the planning process.

“We’re really doing this,” you said, your voice soft.

Aoi smiled. “We are.”

Hana tossed her popsicle stick in the trash and smirked. “Watch out, world. The Disaster Trio is about to become the Dream Team.”

You laughed, breathless and full.

You looked down at the activity list one last time. The final page. The forgotten option.

DIY Keychain & Phone Charm Station

And right beside it, in slightly shaky but determined handwriting:

Y/N L/N, Aoi Mizuno, Hana Takeda

A blank space that now held your names.

A box that no one else had ticked.

The beginning of something better.

The mall trip was supposed to be a quick errand run. Grab some art supplies. Maybe some clay. Pick up glitter pens and plastic key rings. Get out.

But then Aoi spotted a display of pastel washi tape, Hana got distracted by a neon-colored gel pen wall, and you accidentally wandered into a section of the store entirely dedicated to “scented squish toys.”

Two hours later, you had three full bags, a running tab of more yen than you should’ve spent, and zero regrets.

“This is a business investment,” Hana justified, holding up a package of tiny heart-shaped jump rings.

“We don’t even have pliers for those yet,” you muttered, trying to balance a plastic box of polymer clay on top of everything else you were carrying.

“I'll use my teeth if I have to.”

Aoi, trailing behind with the most organized of your supply bags, suddenly slowed down. “Wait.”

You and Hana turned.

Coming out of the stationery store across the mall was someone far too pretty to be caught in fluorescent lighting: Kaoru Minami.

He looked effortless, as usual—hands in pockets, hoodie zipped halfway up, hair a little messy but still somehow model-tier.

He noticed you and raised an eyebrow, offering a casual wave. “Hey.”

“Kaoru!” Hana called, too loud. She sprinted the short distance toward him while you and Aoi shuffled awkwardly behind.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, shifting your bags.

Kaoru lifted the shopping bag in his hand. “Needed new pens. And I like this place’s coffee.”

Of course he liked the mall’s coffee. Of course.

Aoi stood mostly silent, observing the scene as Hana leaned forward, grinning.

“So… we were wondering,” Hana began.

“Uh-oh,” Kaoru said immediately, smirking.

“No, seriously,” Hana continued, “you sure you don’t wanna join our team for the cultural fest?”

“I thought I already said no.”

“But that was before we found the best activity ever.”

Kaoru tilted his head. “What is it?”

“DIY phone charm and keychain station,” you said. “It was at the very end of the list. No one else picked it.”

Kaoru blinked. “Okay… that actually sounds kind of fun.”

“RIGHT?!” Hana pointed an accusing finger. “So join us!”

He laughed, shifting his bag to the other hand. “Tempting, but I already promised a group I'd help them. They’re doing this weird mystery riddle booth. I don’t even know how I got pulled in.”

“Who’s in it?” Aoi asked.

“Some of the art club kids. Mostly people I met during orientation week.”

You nodded, disappointed but not surprised. Kaoru was that kind of guy—floaty, chill, like he belonged to no one and yet somehow fit in everywhere.

“Good luck, though,” he added, nudging Hana’s shoulder lightly. “If your booth wins, I expect a charm in my honor.”

“Deal,” Hana said, trying to hide her dramatic sigh.

Later that evening, you reconvened at your place, supplies spread across the entire living room floor like you were building a small craft empire.

“I’m scared,” you whispered, holding up a tiny ball of peach-colored clay.

“Embrace the chaos,” Hana grinned, already shaping something unidentifiable that she insisted would be a bunny.

Aoi was surprisingly calm, focused on rolling out a thin sheet of clay and sketching on shrink plastic sheets with colored markers.

You had divided the tasks—your job was clay shape duty, Aoi on shrink art, Hana on “experimental design leadership” (her words, not anyone else's).

The table was filled with glitter, beads, molds, strings, and that suspicious toaster oven Hana had dragged in earlier.

“First test batch goes in,” Aoi announced, placing three flat plastic charms—two cats and what might’ve been a chubby frog—on a tray and sliding them into the toaster.

Hana peered through the glass like a scientist watching a dangerous experiment.

Meanwhile, you were carefully smoothing out the edges of a tiny star-shaped clay charm when someone knocked on the front door.

“I’ll get it!” your mom called from the kitchen.

A few seconds later, she appeared at the doorway to the living room. “Y/N, someone’s here to see you.”

You looked up, confused.

And then Hayato stepped into the room. Casual. Cool. Wearing a windbreaker and holding a basketball under one arm like he lived in a shoujo manga.

Aoi made a strangled sound and ducked behind the table.

Hayato blinked. “Uh…”

“Oh my god,” Hana whispered. “It’s happening. She’s glitching.”

You, panicked, stood up so fast you knocked over a tub of glitter.

“Sorry!” you said too loudly, stepping in front of the disaster zone. “Hayato—hi! Uh, what are you doing here?”

He laughed awkwardly, lifting the basketball. “Riki left his phone in my bag after practice. I just dropped it off. Your houses are close, so figured I’d walk.”

“Oh,” you said, like a genius.

Hayato glanced around at the chaos. “Are you guys… building a craft store?”

“We’re prepping for our cultural fest booth,” you explained.

“Oh right! You got the keychain thing, right? That’s awesome.” He grinned. “I bet you three will kill it.”

Aoi let out a squeak from under the table.

Hayato peered over and blinked. “Oh, hey Aoi. Didn’t see you there.”

“Hi,” she mumbled, her face already ten shades of red.

Hana casually walked over and placed herself between them. “She’s fine. Allergic to glitter. Happens every time.”

“Got it,” Hayato said, clearly confused but polite enough not to ask more.

“Well, I’ll let you guys get back to your charm empire. Good luck with it all.”

“Thanks!” you said quickly, practically shoving him back out the door.

As soon as he left, the room exploded.

“AOI,” Hana screamed. “YOU DIDN’T EVEN STAND UP.”

“I WASN’T READY,” Aoi cried, still hiding. “My hands were covered in clay and I was wearing my ugly socks!”

“I should’ve thrown glitter at him,” you muttered.

Aoi groaned. “Kill me. Just bury me under the shrink plastic.”

But no one was really upset. You were laughing. Cackling. Because this? This was fun. This was you.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. Not because of Riki. Not even because of Hayato and Aoi’s painfully awkward encounter. But because the first batch of charms had actually turned out kind of… adorable.

The plastic had curled and flattened perfectly. Aoi’s drawings were sharp and colorful. Even Hana’s weird bunny was kind of cute in a mutated, chaotic way. And your clay stars? Kind of perfect.

You had something real. And maybe—just maybe—you were going to win.

Sunday mornings were made for quiet. Birdsong. Slow coffee. Maybe a soft breeze through half-open windows.

You, however, were not interested in any of that.

You had woken up early with one mission: prepare for today’s full-day cultural fest planning session with Hana and Aoi. That meant cleaning, prepping snacks, organizing the supplies, and getting yourself in the right headspace.

Which, obviously, meant blasting music through your AirPods and dancing like a lunatic in your pajamas while brushing your teeth.

There was something sacred about this chaos. Hair a mess, face still slightly puffy from sleep, striped bunny-print PJ pants swaying as you two-stepped across your room with a broom in one hand and your toothbrush in the other.

You were in your own world. Spinning. Shimmying. Lip-syncing.

The window was open to let in the sunlight, the breeze lifting the curtains ever so gently.

And outside, across the narrow space between your balconies, Nishimura Riki was sitting in a chair, legs crossed, a book in hand.

He liked quiet mornings. Sunlight. Peace.

He did not expect a full-blown concert across the way.

He turned a page lazily, eyes scanning the words, when something moved in his peripheral vision. At first, he ignored it. Then the movement became dancing. Wait.

He glanced up. And there you were. In your ridiculous pajamas, mid-toothbrush shimmy, mouthing lyrics he couldn’t hear.

You looked ridiculous. And kind of… light.

He blinked once. Twice. Then looked down at his book again, shaking his head to himself. You're seeing things. Go back to reading.

Back inside, you had no idea you’d just been accidentally main-charactering in front of your neighbor.

You tossed your brush into its holder, jumped onto your freshly-made bed, and stared at the ceiling. Today was going to be busy. And snacks were essential.

You threw on a hoodie and shorts, tied your hair into a half-bun, grabbed your wallet and tote, and headed out.

The local convenience store two blocks away was quiet, bathed in golden morning light. A few early shoppers milled around, picking up bread, milk, the day’s newspaper.

You walked in, scanning the aisles like a girl on a mission.

You headed straight for the snacks. Pocky. Ramune gummies. Those weird wasabi chips Hana liked. Peach jelly cups Aoi hoarded like treasure. And of course—lychee peelable gummies.

Not for any particular reason. Just… for taste. Obviously.

You were crouched in front of the refrigerated drinks when someone walked past you, and you instinctively looked up—

Riki.

Of course.

The one day you’re in half-wet hair, hoodie-girl mode, you run into the literal ghost of your dignity.

He glanced at you. You blinked.

“…Hey,” he said flatly.

“Hey,” you replied, instantly turning your gaze back to the juice bottles like they were incredibly fascinating.

The exchange ended there, as expected.

He went one way. You went the other.

All good.

Until the universe decided it had had enough peace for one morning.

A grumpy-looking auntie with a bursting shopping basket suddenly appeared, trying to maneuver her way through the narrow aisle—and bumped straight into Riki’s back.

He stumbled.

You turned at the exact wrong moment.

And before you could register what was happening, Riki was off-balance and—

—collided right into you.

You slammed together. Your back hit the snack shelf. Chips rustled. Something clattered.

Riki’s hands braced against the shelf on either side of your shoulders.

You were so close.

Too close.

Your eyes widened.

His face was right there. His hair slightly mussed. His breath smelled like mint and green tea. The sleeves of his hoodie were rolled up, and one of them grazed your arm.

Your brain shut down.

Then rebooted just enough to register the Auntie.

The woman scoffed loudly behind you.

“Ugh. These young couples. Always smooching each other’s faces off in public places. Have some shame.”

Riki didn’t even blink.

You, however, might’ve spontaneously combusted.

You shoved at his chest lightly—not aggressively, just enough to get him back a few inches—and stepped sideways, your face flaming.

“I—I need to pay,” you blurted out, clutching your basket like it was your emotional support animal.

You didn’t look back.

You paid in record time, didn’t wait for your receipt, and practically sprinted out of the store.

Back in the safety of your room, you collapsed onto your bed and covered your face with your hands.

“What the hell,” you whispered.

Your heart was still pounding.

You replayed it in your head—Riki stumbling into you, the warmth of his hands beside you, the sound of chips rustling, that auntie’s words.

You screamed silently into your pillow.

Great. Now he thinks you’re a weirdo who gets mistaken for making out in grocery stores.

Just then, your phone buzzed.

Hana: “We’re on our wayyy~ prep your soul.”

You sat up, still flustered, still trying to process the damage.

No. No one needed to know about this. Not yet.

Today was for charms.

Today was for productivity.

Today was definitely not about Riki Nishimura pinning you to the gummy shelf.

You stood, grabbed the bags, and got to work.

By the time Hana and Aoi arrived at your house that morning, the living room had been cleared, the table set, the snack tray filled, and the sun had barely made it past mid-morning.

Aoi kicked off her shoes like she lived there. Hana threw her backpack onto the couch and immediately jumped onto the table like a general arriving at war.

“Troops,” she said, arms folded behind her back, surveying the room.

You looked up from organizing shrink plastic sheets. “Uh-oh.”

Aoi raised a brow. “Are we getting a speech?”

“Oh, you’re damn right we’re getting a speech.”

Hana stood tall—well, as tall as 5'3" of ambition could manage—hands on her hips, eyes burning with chaotic determination.

“Ladies,” she began. “Today is not just a Sunday. Today is not just a day off. Today—” she gestured broadly at the array of glitter pens, clay packs, and charm hooks “—is the day we become legends.”

You exchanged a glance with Aoi.

“People think we’re cute,” Hana continued. “They think we’re fluff. They think we’re fun little background characters in this school story. But guess what?”

She slammed her hand on the table.

“We are the main characters. And our charm booth is going to outshine every scavenger hunt, every overpriced iced latte booth, every fake haunted house with ketchup blood.”

Aoi clapped slowly. “You’ve been practicing that, haven’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

You raised your juice box in a toast. “To chaos.”

“To glitter!” Hana added.

“To not burning the shrink plastic this time,” Aoi muttered.

You got to work.

The hours that followed were a blur of creative energy, messes, and very questionable glue gun choices.

You sculpted stars, hearts, and the occasional attempt at a cat that looked more like a potato. Aoi carefully illustrated pastel food-themed charms—tiny bubble tea cups, rice balls, and chonky macarons. Hana? She was the design boss, laying out display boards, pricing tags, and aggressively taping glittery borders around everything.

Around noon, your mom peeked in, took one look at the spread, and said, “Girls, you are not surviving the day on jelly cups and Pocky.”

An hour later, you were sitting on the floor eating warm rice bowls, rolled omelets, and grilled chicken skewers made with love.

“I love your mom,” Aoi said, her mouth full.

“She’s our real leader,” Hana nodded solemnly.

You smiled, warmth settling in your chest. It wasn’t just the food. It was this—this moment. This table. These people.

This life.

Afternoon melted into evening. The lighting in the room grew golden, dust motes dancing lazily in the beams coming through the curtains. The music playing in the background was now just an ambient hum to your laughter and steady chatter.

You talked about school, your future dreams, who had a crush on who. Aoi blushed when Hayato’s name came up—again. Hana went on a 15-minute rant about how the real villain in a romance manga wasn’t the second lead but the editor who cut the chapters too short.

By 6 p.m., the living room looked like a war zone of glitter and paper scraps, but you were content.

“Alright,” Hana sighed, flopping onto the couch. “We’ve earned our spot in charm-making history.”

“I think I lost feeling in three fingers,” Aoi added.

You looked at the tray of finished test charms and smiled. “We actually made a lot…”

“And they’re cute,” Aoi said. “Like… people would pay real money for these.”

“We’re gonna win,” Hana declared. “I can feel it in my soul.”

By 6:30, you had packed up. You walked with them to the nearby bus stop, the air already crisp with early autumn chill. Streetlights blinked on one by one, and the sky turned a dusky blue overhead.

You were mid-conversation about painting a chalkboard menu when Sola’s voice cut through the street.

“Y/N-neeee!”

You turned.

At the end of the sidewalk, Sola Nishimura came skipping toward you, arms waving, backpack bouncing behind her. Her smile was wide and bright as always.

Behind her, walking with more caution and much less enthusiasm, was Riki.

He had his hands in his pockets, hoodie unzipped over a dark T-shirt, gaze drifting toward the sky like he wasn’t really here.

“Oh no,” Hana whispered. “He's here.”

Aoi made a strangled squeak.

But Sola had already reached you and threw her arms around you like you hadn’t seen each other in a year instead of a week.

“You smell like candy!” she giggled.

“That's because I’ve been working with sugar-addicted lunatics all day,” you laughed.

“Hi Hana! Hi Aoi!”

“Hi, tiny legend,” Hana grinned, giving her a high five.

“Where were you?” Aoi asked.

“I went to the movies with my friends! We watched a detective one. Riki came to pick me up.”

As if summoned by his name, Riki caught up, nodding a quiet hello toward the group. His eyes flicked briefly to you, then to the disaster-tier glitter crusting the hem of your hoodie.

“You guys going home now?” you asked Sola.

“Yep! Wanna walk with us?”

Before you could answer, Sola had already looped your arms together.

You waved goodbye to Aoi and Hana—who were both making dramatic hand signals about your unexpected walking companion—and began the walk home with the Nishimura siblings.

Sola chatted endlessly.

About the movie. About how one of her friends cried even though “it wasn’t even that sad.” About how she wanted to join the drama club next year. About how she hoped your charm booth would have cat charms.

You laughed, nodded along, occasionally adding a “Really?” or “That’s so cute.”

And the entire time, Riki walked beside you.

Not saying a word.

Not slowing down or speeding up.

Just there.

Sometimes a step ahead, sometimes beside you.

Sometimes you almost forgot he was even listening.

But something about his presence made the quiet moments feel full instead of awkward.

As you reached the curve in the road where your homes came into view, you slowed, unlocking your phone to check the time.

“Y/N,” Riki said suddenly.

You looked up, startled.

“You’ve got glitter,” he said, nodding toward your head.

You blinked. “What?”

“Right here.” He pointed vaguely near your hairline.

Your hand shot up to brush it off, but before you could—

He reached forward and gently pulled your hoodie cap up over your head.

“You’ll catch a cold,” he said simply.

Then turned toward his own gate, walking ahead with Sola trailing behind.

You stood frozen.

Glitter. Hoodie. Cold.

Your face was on fire.

You opened your mouth. Then closed it. Then just stood there, staring at the sidewalk like it would offer you emotional clarity.

It did not.

What it did offer was the sound of Sola calling, “Goodnight, Y/N-neeee!”

You raised your hand weakly.

“Yeah. Night…”

You entered your house in a daze, hoodie still over your head, hands slightly trembling.

Your mom peeked from the kitchen. “You okay?”

You nodded too fast. “Yep! Fine! Tired. Just. Tired.”

You rushed to your room.

Collapsed on your bed.

And whispered into your pillow:

“WHY IS HE LIKE THAT?!”

Because honestly?

You didn’t know what stunned you more.

The hoodie pull.

Or the fact that he noticed the glitter at all.

The week passed in a blur of glue sticks, glitter storms, and increasingly desperate DIY charm tests.

Every afternoon after class, you, Hana, and Aoi gathered in the empty art room you’d gotten permission to use for Cultural Fest prep. It had quickly become your second home—though it now permanently smelled like acrylic paint and peach gummies.

On Monday, you finalized the booth’s layout.

Tuesday was spent testing out shrink-plastic name tags and figuring out how not to burn them.

Wednesday involved Hana almost super-gluing her fingers together while building a display stand out of popsicle sticks. “Battle scars,” she said proudly, holding up her bandaged fingers like a trophy.

Thursday was packaging day: little zip-locks, pastel ribbons, and sticker seals Aoi designed that said “Handmade with ✧ friendship ✧ (and maybe glitter).”

By Friday, you'd completed your mini signage and mock pricing chart. Your vision was coming to life—and it was cute.

“We might actually be unstoppable,” Hana declared.

By Saturday night, all three of you were too exhausted to function. You’d sent goodnight texts in the group chat that were basically keyboard smashes followed by skull emojis.

So when Sunday arrived again, it felt sacred.

You met at your house at 10 a.m., greeted by your mom with warm mochi pancakes and iced lemon tea. The living room had been reset to “crafting battlefield mode,” and you had even vacuumed the rug in preparation.

“Today we start testing full charm kits,” Aoi said, pulling out a new supply bin like it was sacred.

“No distractions,” Hana added.

No distractions.

Except for the one you would never speak of.

Because when you took a break around 11 a.m.—juice boxes in hand, songs softly playing in the background—you decided to go out to your balcony to water your plants.

It was quiet outside. The morning breeze was gentle. Birds chirped somewhere in the trees.

You filled your watering can and started pouring it gently over your herbs and tiny succulents.

And then—

Out of the corner of your eye—

Movement.

You turned.

And saw Riki.

Shirtless.

Standing on his balcony.

A towel slung over one shoulder, another in his hand as he ruffled it through his still-damp hair. His usual cold aura replaced with something totally… human. Sunlight glinted off the curve of his collarbone. Water drops clung to his skin. He hadn’t seen you yet.

And for one horrifying second, you froze.

Your brain went blank.

Completely.

Utterly.

BLANK.

Then, Riki turned his head slightly—

You dropped to the floor.

Panicked. Slammed your back against the wall beneath the balcony edge. Clutched the watering can like it could save you.

Did he see you?

Was he looking?

Were you still alive?

You didn’t wait to find out. You scrambled back into your room, shut the balcony door, locked it, drew the curtain, and threw yourself face-first onto your bed.

You lay there in silence.

Muffled screaming into your pillow.

When you returned to the living room, cheeks flushed, hands shaking slightly, Hana blinked. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. Just… saw a spider,” you lied badly.

Aoi tilted her head. “Big spider?”

“Enormous. Existential, even.”

They let it go.

Thank god.

The next day—Monday—was tent selection day.

Every booth needed one. And only a limited number of nice ones were available for free use. The rest were old, ripped, or tragically beige.

You arrived early, armed with your booth diagram and charm samples.

“This is it,” Hana said as you joined the crowd at the school courtyard where the tents were displayed. “No mercy. No hesitation.”

You scouted the area like seasoned hunters.

And there it was.

The Tent.

Large. Sturdy. Lavender fabric. A cute awning. Side panels for display. It even had a little front table attachment for guests.

It was perfect.

“We claim this one,” Hana said, already reaching for the form.

“Hold on—” the supervising teacher called. “Another team just arrived.”

You turned.

And almost audibly groaned.

Riki. Hayato. Kenta.

Of course.

The three boys walked over, looking entirely too casual for people who were about to steal a dream tent.

Hayato was laughing at something Kenta said. Riki trailed slightly behind, hoodie sleeves pushed up, hands in his pockets, as usual.

You froze.

Aoi panicked.

“Hi Hayato,” she whispered.

Hayato smiled brightly. “Oh hey! You guys want this tent too?”

You closed your eyes for a second.

“Yes,” Hana answered, stepping forward. “We saw it first.”

Kenta lifted the corner of the tent tarp. “Yeah, but technically we touched it first.”

“Touched?” Hana barked. “Are we auctioning with fingertips now?!”

The tension was rising.

Aoi looked ready to cry.

You didn’t want to fight again.

But you would.

If you had to.

Riki stepped forward.

Everyone paused.

He looked at you for a second—just a second—then turned to Hayato and Kenta.

“We’ll take the green one,” he said flatly.

“What?” Hayato blinked.

“But this one’s better,” Kenta added.

Riki gave him a slow glance. “So?”

Hayato squinted at him. “Wait—are you giving this one up?”

Riki didn’t answer. He just turned around and walked back toward the tents.

Hayato stared after him, then looked at you and the girls.

“Well… okay then,” he said, offering a small smile and a shrug. “Guess it’s yours. Good luck, girls.”

Aoi nearly passed out.

As the boys walked off, Hana turned to you with wild eyes. “What. Just. Happened?”

You stood frozen.

He hadn’t said anything to you.

But he had looked at you.

And given you the tent.

And for some reason—

That left you more speechless than any shirtless balcony moment ever could.

- Your morning started suspiciously well.

Your alarm didn’t betray you. Your toast didn’t burn. Your hair cooperated for once, falling into place like you actually brushed it instead of fighting it with a clip and prayer.

You hummed as you got ready, brushing your teeth to the rhythm of the music playing from your phone. The sun streamed in through your curtains, warming the wooden floor of your room. Your school blazer, freshly ironed (thanks to your mom), hung by your closet.

Everything felt… aligned.

By the time you tied your shoelaces, you were actually skipping toward the front door.

“Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad!”

“Eat something on the way!” your mom called from the kitchen.

“Text me when you get to school!” your dad added with a grin.

You waved them off and stepped into the golden morning light.

The walk to the bus stop felt lighter than usual. Your tote bag didn’t dig into your shoulder. The wind ruffled your hair gently instead of trying to slap you with it. And, for once, your brain wasn’t overthinking some past embarrassment or plotting how to avoid bumping into Riki.

You weren’t even five steps from the corner when you heard another pair of footsteps behind you.

Rhythmic. Steady.

You peeked over your shoulder—trying to be subtle, failing completely.

Riki.

Hands in his pockets. Headphones around his neck. Usual sleepy expression. Usual hoodie, slightly zipped.

Was he following you?

Okay, technically, you lived on the same street. This could be coincidence. It often was.

Still…

Your heart hiccuped.

You kept walking.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t call out. Didn’t speed up or slow down.

But he stayed close behind you, just a few paces back, all the way to the bus stop.

And something about that… was worse than if he had said something.

You stood a meter apart at the stop, not talking. Morning light casting soft shadows. The air between you quiet, just this faint buzz of something unspoken.

And then the bus pulled up.

You climbed aboard, feeling Riki just behind you.

You turned the corner into the aisle—only to freeze.

“Yo!” Kaoru Minami beamed from the window seat near the middle, earbuds half-dangling, his school bag propped on his knees. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“Kaoru?” you blinked. “Why are you—this is the wrong route for you, isn’t it?”

“Missed mine,” he said, sighing. “My little brother threw a tantrum and latched onto my ankle like a demon crab. I barely escaped.”

You laughed, sliding into the empty seat beside him. “Wow. Older brother life must be hard.”

“Brutal,” he replied. “He’s six. Has the wrath of a debt collector.”

Behind you, Riki boarded silently. He moved down the aisle, slipping into the seat directly across from you.

Kaoru didn’t notice.

You definitely did.

“You headed in early for prep stuff?” Kaoru asked, tossing his bag onto the floor with the casualness of someone who had never tripped in front of their crush.

“Yeah, our booth’s got so many tiny pieces to set up. It’s like managing a charm-making cult at this point.”

Kaoru laughed. “Still sounds better than our escape room plan. Someone burned a puzzle clue yesterday with a candle.”

You winced. “That sounds cursed.”

“Oh, it is.”

You glanced at him, smiling—then, instinctively, glanced across the aisle.

Riki’s gaze was on you.

Not for long. Just a second. But his eyes flicked from you to Kaoru, then back to his phone.

Still. You felt it.

What was that?

Side-eye?

Judgment?

Mild irritation?

Impossible to tell with Riki. But it unsettled you enough to pull your shoulders back a little straighter.

The rest of the ride was uneventful. Kaoru leaned back into his music. You stared out the window. Riki stayed glued to his screen.

The city passed you by.

And the silence buzzed.

By the time you reached school, you had fully planned to tell Hana everything—minus the part where Riki might’ve been listening the whole time.

You stepped through the front gates and scanned the courtyard.

There. Hana.

Sitting on the stone ledge by the rose bushes, bag beside her, arms crossed, sunglasses on.

Yes. Sunglasses.

“Where’s your paparazzi?” you deadpanned, walking over.

“I wear these to protect myself from the blinding light of being iconic,” Hana replied, lowering them dramatically.

“And also because you probably didn’t sleep,” you added.

“Also that.”

You looked around.

“Where’s Aoi?” you asked. “She’s usually the first one here.”

Hana furrowed her brows. “She texted like fifteen minutes ago. Said she was two blocks away.”

You turned toward the main gate—

And stopped.

Because walking through, side by side, chatting like it was totally normal—

Aoi and Hayato.

You blinked.

Hana slowly lowered her sunglasses again.

“Is that…”

“Yup.”

“Is she…”

“Yup.”

Aoi spotted you and broke into a smile. “Morning!”

Hayato offered his usual, carefree grin. “We ran into each other at the light near the station.”

Aoi nodded, trying to be cool. “We figured we might as well walk the rest together.”

“Mm-hmm,” Hana said, smiling with the slow precision of a shark.

“Didn’t want her to get lost,” Hayato added.

“I’ve literally walked that road since I was nine,” Aoi whispered under her breath.

But you didn’t tease her.

Because the way Aoi glanced at Hayato when she thought he wasn’t looking?

The way her fingers curled tightly around the strap of her bag?

She was trying. Stepping out of her comfort zone. Being bold.

And honestly?

That deserved celebration.

You smiled. “You guys want to check the layout before the others crowd the booth section?”

Aoi nodded. “Let’s go.”

As you headed off, you lingered for a second.

Behind you, in the distance, Riki walked toward the gym with Kenta.

He didn’t look over this time.

And for some reason—

You noticed.

The school felt different when classes weren’t in session.

Gone were the sounds of ringing bells, rushed footsteps in hallways, and the low drone of lectures through open doors. In their place were laughter, music, and the clatter of scissors and paintbrushes.

It was Cultural Fest week.

No uniforms. No homework. Just days of full-throttle preparation. Everyone was in their booths or classrooms, working like their lives—and prize money—depended on it.

Which, to be fair, it kind of did.

In the middle of the second-floor corridor, the boys’ scavenger hunt booth had taken over the right-hand corner. Pushed-up desks formed the main table. Thick whiteboards leaned against the wall for clues. Sheets of black cloth draped over the frames to give it a dramatic, “detective lair” aesthetic.

And standing in the middle of it all, sleeves rolled up, paintbrush in hand, was Nishimura Riki.

Wearing a navy-blue apron, stained slightly with earlier test swatches. Hair pulled back with a clip. Eyes narrowed at the signage board like it had personally wronged him.

Hayato stood beside him, spinning a roll of tape around one finger. “I’m telling you, we make the final clue a red herring. Like, we plant it in a false trail—get them lost.”

Kenta, on the floor with a pile of clue boxes, sighed. “You just want chaos.”

“Chaos wins. Trust.”

“Chaos gets us disqualified.”

Hayato turned to Riki. “Back me up?”

Riki dipped his brush in black paint and kept working. “As long as they can finish it in under fifteen minutes.”

Hayato grinned. “See? My guy gets it.”

“Make sure it’s not too easy either,” Riki added without looking up.

Kenta groaned. “You’re both gonna be the death of me.”

Down the hall, you, with a roll of tinsel in one hand and a heart-shaped charm in the other, looked up from your booth and—

Oh.

There he was.

Riki.

Wearing an apron.

Rolling paint across the signboard like he was born to do it.

Focused. Calm. Muscles in his forearms flexing every time he moved.

Are aprons allowed to be this unfair? you wondered, completely frozen mid-step.

Aoi was hanging up string lights nearby and blinked. “What are you staring at?”

“Nothing!” you squeaked, turning fast. “I wasn’t—just thought I saw… a spider.”

Hana popped up from behind your counter like a gremlin. “Spider where?”

“No spider.”

“Was it on Riki?”

“HANA.”

Hana smirked. “He does clean up weirdly well.”

“Shut. Up.”

But the damage was done. Because now you were hyperaware of them. Of the boys. Of him.

They looked so… collected. So sharp. And despite the mess of paint, cords, and misprinted clue cards, they somehow made it all look cool.

Which was annoying.

Unfair, even.

Back at your own booth, you aggressively re-taped a price label.

Meanwhile, Riki crouched down beside the main poster board, checking the alignment of the design he was painting.

Minimalist lines. Sharp angles. Hidden clues embedded in subtle brushwork.

Hayato leaned over. “Is it weird that I’m having fun?”

“Yeah,” Riki said.

“I think we might actually win.”

“We will win,” Riki said without looking up.

Hayato grinned. “That’s the spirit.”

Kenta, who had somehow managed to get red glitter glue stuck to his shoe, groaned from the floor. “We’re gonna die from inhaling paint fumes before that happens.”

“Don’t inhale it,” Riki said dryly.

Hayato tossed him a mask.

For the next hour, they worked like machines.

Riki handled the signage. His brushstrokes were precise. Efficient. Not flashy, but undeniably skilled.

Hayato laid out the clue path—rearranging riddle cards, hiding props, and testing their logic by running mock searches across the hallway.

Kenta was in charge of props and trap setups, muttering to himself about “balancing difficulty and playability” like a puzzle master on caffeine.

Every now and then, Riki would pause, glance up across the hallway.

And notice your booth.

It was vibrant. Colorful. Nothing like theirs.

Paper stars strung from the top beams. Acrylic charms glinting in the sunlight. Aoi laughing as Hana tangled herself in decorative ribbon. You placing finished charms in tiny, hand-folded origami bags.

And once—

Just once—

Riki caught you looking back.

Your eyes met.

For one breath.

Then you immediately turned away, dropping a charm and almost knocking over a bucket of beads.

Hayato blinked. “You good, man?”

Riki looked back down at the sign he was painting.

“Fine.”

Lunchtime came and went. Someone tossed rice balls and melon bread their way from a volunteer food cart. Kenta nearly cried over how good the croquettes were.

Hayato took a break near the window, scrolling his phone.

Riki stayed working.

He liked this. This kind of quiet focus. Not needing to explain himself. Just building something with his hands. Having a vision and watching it come together.

Not many people knew it, but Riki actually liked creating things. He didn’t talk about it. Didn’t show off.

He just… did it.

Back across the hallway, you were marveling at your charm wall.

“We’ve got everything from cats to frogs to full zodiac signs,” Aoi said proudly.

You stretched your arms overhead. “Let’s not talk about how many burns I got from the toaster oven though.”

- “You know,” Hana said, nudging you, “Riki’s been painting for four hours without even taking a break.”

You rolled your eyes. “How do you even know that?”

“Because you’ve been watching him.”

“I—what—NO.”

“You absolutely have.”

“Do you want to be glitter-bombed.”

Aoi looked between you. “Maybe he’s watching you back.”

You stopped mid-sip of your juice. “Don’t start.”

Hana just grinned. “Look at us. Rivals. Opposite booth vibes. Perfect enemies-to-something setup.”

You turned away, muttering, “I’m putting in a transfer request.”

But you were smiling.

Just a little.

By the end of the day, the boys’ booth had transformed.

A sleek banner hung across the top: “The Mystery Vault.”

Below it, the entrance was framed in shadowy curtains. Inside, a winding maze of clues, riddles, fake keys, and red herrings.

Riki stood at the edge, arms crossed, surveying their work.

“Not bad,” Hayato said.

“Not bad?” Kenta echoed. “It’s brilliant. Look at this layout.”

Riki said nothing.

But his expression softened—just slightly.

This wasn’t just about winning anymore.

It was about making something that felt real.

Something they built with their own hands.

He turned, eyes flicking once more toward the booth across the hall.

Where you were laughing again. Covered in stickers. Paint on your cheeks. Holding something small in your palm—another charm, maybe.

He looked for a beat too long.

And then turned away.

The boys’ booth was almost done.

After nearly a week of cutting, painting, arguing over riddles, testing puzzle pieces, and taping props in place, the scavenger hunt setup was finally coming together.

The black fabric walls framed the space like a stage. Inside, glow-in-the-dark arrows lined the floor for younger participants. There were lockboxes (real ones, borrowed from the science lab), red herrings disguised as clues, and a final “vault” that could only be opened with the right combination answer.

Hayato stood back, hands on hips. “It looks like a legit escape room now.”

Kenta sat on a stool, chewing on pocky. “Yeah. I think we crushed it.”

Even Riki—standing with arms crossed, watching Hayato secure the banner with one last pin—allowed himself a slight nod of approval.

They had worked hard. Everything was in place.

Almost.

Then Hana’s voice pierced the air.

“Yo, brainiacs!” she shouted, skipping over to them, clipboard in hand. “What’s the prize?”

The boys blinked.

“Prize?” Hayato echoed.

“Yeah, like, for the winners of your precious scavenger hunt? You think people are doing this just for fun?”

Hayato’s eyes widened. “...Crap.”

Kenta slapped his forehead. “We forgot the prize.”

Riki didn’t say anything. But the twitch in his brow said it all.

“I’ll go buy something,” Hayato offered. “Candy, trinkets, mystery boxes—”

“No need,” Hana cut in, eyes sparkling in that way that meant she was absolutely scheming something.

She turned to Aoi, who had just arrived with a bag of snacks. “Hey, Aoi, didn’t you want to talk to Hayato?”

Aoi blinked, her hands still full. “Huh? I did?”

“Yes, you did,” Hana said sweetly, snatching the bag from her hands and pushing her toward Hayato.

“I—uh—wait, what—”

Meanwhile, Hana turned to Riki.

“You go.”

Riki raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because Y/N’s going too. She needs stuff for our booth, and you guys can save time if you go together.”

You, who had just walked over mid-snack, froze mid-bite.

“Wait, what?”

“Perfect,” Hana said, completely ignoring you. “You two go. Be back in an hour.”

Kenta opened his mouth. “Actually, if Riki’s goi—”

Hana snapped her head around and gave him The Look.

Kenta closed his mouth.

Riki simply shrugged. “Fine.”

You blinked. “Wait—no one asked me if I wanted—”

“You’re going,” Hana sang, already skipping back to her booth with Aoi and Hayato trailing in a chaos storm behind her.

Riki turned to you, tilting his head. “Coming or not?”

You blinked again. “...Ugh. Fine.”

The walk to the nearby supply shop was quiet. Autumn had finally decided to settle into the air—cool breeze, golden sunlight, dry leaves crunching underfoot.

Riki walked with his usual steady pace, hands in his pockets, not saying a word.

You hated the silence.

“So,” you blurted. “No prize plan at all?”

“Didn’t think about it,” he said.

“That’s so dumb.”

“Mm.”

You turned to look at him. “You guys spent all this time building riddles and mazes and forgot the most basic thing?”

“We were focused.”

“On what? How many fake spiders to use?”

Riki shrugged. “Hayato’s job.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re such a control freak until it actually matters.”

“I’m not a control freak.”

“Okay, then why did you repaint your clue board three times yesterday?”

He didn’t respond.

You smirked. “Exactly.”

A gust of wind blew a few leaves past you. Riki turned his head slightly, watching you from the corner of his eye.

“You use too much glitter,” he said calmly.

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Your booth. It’s covered in it. It’s everywhere.”

“That’s the point. It’s a charm-making booth. It’s supposed to be bright and happy.”

“It looks like a unicorn exploded.”

“That’s not a bad thing!”

Riki glanced at you again. “You had glitter in your hair three days in a row.”

You flushed. “You noticed?”

He didn’t answer.

You stared at him for a beat. “You did. You totally noticed.”

“Don’t use so much next time.”

“You’re not my glitter boss.”

Another silence followed.

But this one… wasn’t uncomfortable.

At the store, you split up briefly—Riki went to check out mini prize bags and small puzzles for the scavenger hunt, while you headed for the sticker and clay section.

A few minutes later, you ran into each other at the checkout line.

You dropped a tub of iridescent glitter and a sheet of flower-themed stickers into your basket.

Riki stared at the glitter.

“More?” he asked.

“It’s essential.”

“It’s a health hazard.”

“You’re a health hazard.” You grabbed some more stuff – more holographic glitter tubs, three rolls of patterned tape, and a packet of pastel beads that absolutely weren’t necessary, but made her happy.

Meanwhile, Riki stood staring at a wall of possible prize ideas.

“Need help?” you asked, walking over.

He didn’t answer at first.

Then: “What would you want to win?”

You blinked. “Me?”

“You’re closer to the target audience than I am.”

“You calling me a child?”

He shrugged. “I’m calling you more fun than me.”

That… was not what you expected.

You picked up a few items. “These could work.” She held up a mini puzzle cube, a glitter pen set, and a small LED keylight shaped like a dragon.

Riki nodded. “Alright.”

You both picked a few variations. Some small plushies. A few slap bracelets. Candy.

Riki later handed you a cold canned drink. “You looked like you were overheating.”

You blinked. “What—? Oh. Thanks.”

“And these,” he said, placing a bag of lychee gummies in your basket without asking.

You stared. “I didn’t ask for—”

“You like them.”

“…That doesn’t mean you buy them for me.”

He just moved to pay.

And paid.

For both of your things.

You gawked at him as you stepped outside.

“You didn’t have to—”

“You’re carrying this,” he said, handing you the gummies.

“You’re literally carrying all the bags!”

“I’m efficient.”

“Are you trying to be... nice?”

“Are you trying to be difficult?”

You were silent.

He handed you the drink, cracked open his own, and kept walking.

You watched him for a second.

Then—just a little—

You smiled.

You were halfway back when you turned a corner near a small novelty shop—and there he was.

Kaoru Minami, standing in front of the shop, casually twirling a plush bear keychain between two fingers.

“Y/N!” he called out, perking up when he spotted you.

You waved, surprised. “Kaoru?”

“Came to grab some booth accessories. Got roped into decorating last minute.” He walked over, stopping in front of you. “You look flushed. All this shopping wearing you out?”

You laughed lightly. “I’m fine. Riki’s the pack mule today.”

Kaoru tilted his head. “That doesn’t seem like his thing.”

“Neither does buying snacks for other people,” you muttered.

Riki said nothing.

Kaoru held up a soft, squishy seal plush. “Look! I found this. Thought it might be a fun bonus gift.”

Your eyes sparkled. “That’s adorable.”

“You want one?”

“Maybe…”

“C’mon,” Kaoru grinned, taking your hand and dragging you gently toward the display. “They’ve got like twenty.”

Riki watched, expression unreadable.

You were smiling. Pointing at plushies. Giggling when Kaoru showed you an ugly duck one with angry eyebrows.

Then—

“Y/N,” Riki said, tone flat.

You turned. “Huh?”

“We’re getting late.”

Kaoru raised an eyebrow. “We’ve got time.”

“Not that much.”

“I think we can take five more minutes,” Kaoru said coolly.

Riki’s jaw tightened.

You glanced between them, suddenly aware of the… atmosphere.

Kaoru turned back to you, holding out a blue octopus plush. “This one looks like you.”

You burst out laughing. “How?!”

“It’s round. Cute. But secretly angry.”

Before you could respond, Riki stepped forward, grabbed your elbow—gently, but firmly—and said again, “We’re going.”

Kaoru blinked. “Uh—dude.”

“She has prep to finish,” Riki replied, not even looking at him.

You blinked up at Riki, stunned into silence.

And just like that, he pulled you away.

Back onto the path.

Holding your shopping bags.

Not speaking.

Not explaining.

Just walking beside you, like the whole plush war hadn’t just happened.

You peeked up at him.

His expression hadn’t changed.

But his grip on the bags? A little tighter.

His shoulders? A little tenser.

And his pace?

Just fast enough to leave Kaoru Minami far behind.

- Suspicious.

HOPE YOU LIKE IT <33

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ghastghoul · 8 months ago

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My Transformers OC compilation, for funsies:

Okay so the first OC that I designed while watching the G1 cartoon and Transformers: Animated for the first time in forever was Shift Click.

G1 Design (with a bonus sketch where I drew him in a comic style):

I'm not too great at drawing vehicles atm so I decided to make a minibot that became a computer mouse to make up for that. I'd like to think that his best ally/friend would be Blaster since he was actually my favorite side character from the Autobot roster, along with Jazz. Shift Click the type to take up human culture like a sponge but isn't very open about it and he enjoys humanity's various takes on robots in media.

Transformers Animated Design:

In TFA I see him as more open, but he never sees Earth. He hates Sentinel whenever he sees the mech and he's honestly a bit isolated by what he does. When his skills aren't being used to get intel on the enemy then he's not doing much as he's on the lazy side. I'm not sure if his alt. mode is the same as his G1 counterpart (computer mouse), honestly.

I also played around with the idea of him as a Decepticon, not canon to his lore but for fun:

Then I have another TF:A OC named Pulldown:

His alt. mode is a drive-in theater projector. He's an ex-Decepticon that used to work with Swindle, his projection abilities once being used to show off products Swindle tried selling before having a falling out. Pulldown tries very hard to hide his past but he honestly sucks at it, poor fella. He also lies when he ends up on Earth and claims to be part of Autobot intel, but that's debunked fast and it forces him to be honest.

Now we've got my wonderful ✨️babygirl✨️, my ✨️pookie✨️, my love - the Beast Wars OC I designed named Shatter Fang:

Shatter Fang's beast mode is a Moray Eel. His protoform was thought to be lost to the sea after the Predacons dropped his pod into the salty waters below their battle ground, devastating the Maximals trying to salvage him. Cheetor later finds a moray eel swimming oddly close to the water's edge and realizes what happened, that the protoform had not only survived but had taken on a beast mode, and he's elated when he gives Primal the good news.

His processor is a bit wonky as he often confuses similar words with eachother when speaking (Ex: instead of saying "My apologies," he may say "My sorries"), but he has a respectable spark and (later on) the passion of a warrior. When he meets the Maximals he's wary and afraid. Optimus Primal decides to let Dinobot act as his mentor, teaching him how to fight in this war; but when Shatter Fang encounters a Pred for the first time he fumbles and attempts to run from combat, at least until Dinobot accuses him of being a total coward unworthy of respect. After helping his new allies win the fight he decides to dedicate all his energy toward earning the respect of his mentor as well as his other Maximal brethren.

And finally, my newest OC named Wavewader:

Since he's so new I don't have too much on him at the moment, but his submarine alt mode was actually inspired by SuBlue Water Scooters and just stylized submarine/ship designs one may see in animation.

If I had to give any feel for his personality so far, it's very calm and easy to be around. He gets down to business as it's needed.

#transformers #tfa #transformers animated #beast wars #transformers beast wars #transformers oc #tfa oc #transformers animated oc #beast wars oc #transformers beast wars oc #oc: shift click #oc: pulldown #oc: shatter fang #oc: wavewader #my art #oc comp

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impactrueno · 3 months ago

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hey spike! ive been posting art on the internet for almost 2 years now, but i had the realization that i post nearly EVERYTHING online. it made me feel rather sad that i dont really have a lot of private art stuff for myself. as much as i like sharing my stuff, i have halted posting as much as i did since that realization. i guess what i wanted to ask you is do you ever experience that sort of feeling? Or would you say you draw enough to keep enough private stuff? sorry if this doesnt really make a lot of sense ><;

it sounds like you might be putting sharing stuff online over drawing for yourself. and i get it, i feel like being an artist on social media comes with this pressure to Post Content™ but always remember that you're creating for yourself first and foremost. try not to fall into the trap of "gotta do all the trends, gotta draw what people like to see" because that's gonna suck the fun out of making art real fast and you'll burn out.

i've been drawing for many many years (i started posting art on the internet all the way back in 2004) and not everything i draw ever sees the light of day. it doesn't need to. stuff like bad sketches, studies, personal art, experiments and even nsfw remains private. i guess i could compile this stuff in a zine someday and offer it as a paid download? but even then there's still stuff i would leave out. honestly now that i think about it, the only time i ever take how much unshared art i have into consideration is when i try to figure out if offering exclusive tier rewards for my ko-fi would be a good idea lol

anyway what i'm trying to say is you can continue sharing art AND still have art that you keep to yourself. you're just getting started so i understand feeling like you have to share everything you make, but you actually don't have to share everything you make. let yourself have messy sketches or experiments or studies where you can let loose without worrying about making them "presentable" enough to post. art first, and then think about whether or not you want to post it. it's fine if you don't. it's your art!

#asks

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roseytoesy · 4 months ago

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Got anymore doey vore art of yours?

Didn’t have any others but I did make some as soon as I saw this ask! Thank you for the excuse to draw and think about my blorbo.

So I had multiple ideas but not sure how well I can execute them. Everything is going to be under the cut. Also very rough sketch art but it should be mostly legible!

First idea was how each of the 3 kids try and “eat” the player.

Or maybe during the big chase at the end the Mathew head lunges forward to swallow the player before Kevin can make the Doey mouth bite down on them. And Kevin can’t attack the Mathew heat too much cause it hurt him too.

Or something silly like Doey constantly elongating his neck as he swallows the player cause it feels very silly.

Or hammock Doey (he’s flattened out) but then kinda just wraps around the player cause he wanted cuddles.

There are so many ideas.

But I went with the first one cause it’s cute and silly. Also took me like all day but it was a good break from other stuff so thank you!

Have fun examining all of this fun stuff!

And here’s a breakdown of my thought process

Jacks favorite methods for nomming the player is more childish and silly.

Pushing them in via a hug

Flopping onto them and reforming with them safely inside

And of course being like a frog

Then there’s Mathew. He prefers it all to be consensual and sweet. Something to rest with and something for him to focus on despite his other responsibilities

Usually when he’s down he asks kindly if the player is ok helping him with cuddles. He knows being eaten can be scary but crawling into a safe space usually isnt. So he likes to open up his stomach. Using the 3 hands to hold the dough apart before closing slowly behind the player.

And for comfort. He likes to be the one to help others. But he sometimes needs help too. So he offers a safe space. A vulnerable space for them both inside. Doing the same as above. And usually letting some tears fall and some soft words of affirmation to be shared in such a small moment.

And of course Kevin loves the teasing/unwilling side of vore. It’s a form of play for him.

So he likes to just jump the player and gulp them down in-front of the other toys before giving a playful chase. Maybe eating a few others if he gets too carried away.

If the player doesn’t move fast enough with that grab pack he likes to “catch them if they fall. Or just like before if he’s bored enough he will snatch c them up and eat them feet first.

And if he truely lost his cool he ends up shoving them down the throat that kids between all the heads in the monsterous form. He’s more protective this way but there’s likely going to much bruising and scrapes from his rougher handling in this form.

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coralearei · 5 months ago

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Fantasie-Impromptu -- Sunday/Dreamweaver!Reader

summary: your client gets you to stay with him for a while longer... wc: 2.7k author's notes: there isn't any deeper reason beyond the title other than that it sounds cool and it's what sunday played in his trailer. this was supposed to be a winter holiday fic that i initially wrote a month ago and dropped and picked up again, so there might be references to baby it's cold outside and other media content: mdni -- somewhat yandere tendencies and whatever that implies: dubcon/noncon, no explicit sex but it gets pretty touchy throughout, a bit of a power imbalance, potentially ooc, gender neutral reader, implied drugging

---

Although the Family Head has been your client for many months now, you've never completely accustomed yourself to the nerve-wracking kindness that has only grown increasingly more evident with every commission he's given you. Sunday's 'acts of kindness' are almost too subtle for you to call attention to; a luxurious trinket every now and then might just be a token of goodwill, and the occasional gloved hand lingering on your shoulder too long could simply be unintentional.

Still, being the keen Dreamweaver you are, you pick up acts like these nevertheless. They're more than just coincidences— but Sunday seems like a man higher than mere accidents. Everything he does is indeed very carefully and meticulously planned, and the way he corners you in his office at this current moment is no exception.

"Stay a while longer." he says to you now as you prepare to leave his office. Today's session has been rather short, much to your relief— consisting of You inadvertently freeze in your motions as he speaks, standing still with your palms pressed to the desk below you. Your head is kept steady in its bowed position, not noticing the way that Sunday marvels at your refusal to return his warmhearted gaze.

The offer is somewhat arbitrary, almost out of the blue, but it adds to the pattern of similar gestures from before. At first, he was cordial enough, but still formal— he remains both of those things towards you, but a few almost-invisible actions make you shudder. Over time, you start to give him excuses to stay at his mansion for gradually shorter amounts of time, and tell him that you have a good idea of what he wants out of whatever you're working on. You don't want to waste any more of his time, you’ve told him once, and you promise to give him articulate, expedient designs before you bashfully scurry out of his office as fast as possible.

Unfortunately, you haven’t mustered up the courage to politely decline him today. Instead, you take a look at his office, and how its clean luxury only helps to perpetuate Sunday’s tendencies towards stateliness and decorum. There doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust in the room, and the only semblance of a mess lies in the sketches you’ve brought. The papers are strewn about his desk; you continue to gingerly pick them up as you begin your reply.

“I couldn’t possibly, sir. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience the rest of your evening, and-”

“Not at all, not at all,” you bite your lip as he raises a hand to cut you off. “I enjoy listening to you speak.” he admits, giving a nearly demeaning smile. Sunday’s halo innocently gleams a glowing gold in contrast to the faint lamp of his office, as if he really is after a simple chat and nothing else.

“I’m honored, sir.” You concentrate on carefully guiding your various plans and sketches into a thick manila folder while you stare down the oak table below— hoping to avoid the way the eyes of the Halovian in front of you linger on your more… flattering parts. “B-But I really don’t want to bother you, you’re a very busy man- ah!”

Your hand barely brushes against a foreign, unfamiliar piece of silk, causing your folder to make a thumping noise as it hits the floor. In nervous shock, you turn around and see Sunday standing less than a step behind you, his lips almost perking up. You jolt back frantically, but lose your balance and fall on your bottom ungraciously. You feel your papers press against your behind.

“Clumsy little thing…” you think you hear him say to himself before he lets out a barely-present laugh. In one birdlike swoop, you’re on your feet again, your folder reconciled with its contents and safely returned to your bag. Your cheeks begin to grow hot as you feel Sunday’s sturdy hands stabilize you, gently gripping your shoulders before he gives you a soft head pat. He leans in closer, letting his lips graze your ear’s helix. You find yourself staying still as Sunday starts to murmur in your ear.

“Did you say something, sir?” you ask, trying to reclaim the professionalism in this moment that is all but gone.

“I haven’t… try to relax for me, alright?” Sunday hums in your ear, quiet but reassuring. The buzz he leaves behind sends jolts of worry throughout your body. “

Your hands are quite icy, you know that? And do be careful with yourself next time… I really wouldn’t want you to harm yourself on purpose, dear.”

You press your palms to your warming face in response, your fingers just short of clawing out your widened eyes. You’re too flustered to not remember the name that he had just used— it makes you lightheaded just to think about it. You would have fell over a second time if Sunday hadn’t grabbed you by the waist and held onto you with his strong, slender fingers.

“What’s your hurry?” Sunday hums, taking his index finger to put under your chin and point towards his beaming face, more playful than what it once was before. You hold your breath for a moment when he forces you to look up at him, hesitantly meeting the angelic amber that looks upon your face with a mysterious, ambiguous glint.

As your eyes make contact with Sunday, his features soften once more, accompanied by a reassuring smile. When you start to sputter out a response, he takes his index finger once more and presses it against your lips, making a low shushing noise. Both of you fall silent, leaving only the roaring crackle of the fireplace to be heard.

“Please don’t hurry,” he muses, wrapping his surprisingly strong arm around waist. “I wouldn’t want to leave you all alone… Why don’t you join me for a drink? I’ll call for some wine.”

You give a meek nod and Sunday slightly pulls on your wrist in approval. Soon, Sunday and you are now both situated in the parlor of his manor. You gradually shift farther away from him towards the other end of the couch… when did Sunday get this close to you, anyway? You look down at your drink. The contents of your glass slosh inside, and the stem of the glass you hold remains unsteady in your trembling grip. You set the glass down with a sigh— good thing you haven’t dropped it yet.

You’ve now been at Dewlight for far more than the half hour you’ve agreed to out of respect— more than a half hour too long. You’re pretty sure that you’re only on your second drink now, but the number of drinks you’ve had has slipped your mind. If you correctly recall what Sunday had said about ten minutes ago, you two are currently sharing a bottle of Amontillado, a decadent sherry from the vineyards of a lush, distant planet whose name you’ve forgotten. You don’t drink much— which you’re too nervous to admit, given that you’re a recent resident of the Planet of Festivities— but the taste of this particular wine feels quite suited to your taste buds. Sunday is being more than generous with the bottle as well, taking small, graceful sips from his own glass, which still remains half full.

On the other hand, you’ve had quite a few drinks, which have gotten you to talk much more than you would’ve liked. So far, Sunday now knows that you don’t have anywhere to be after this meeting, and that your earnings allow you a small apartment in Reality. Not wanting to say anything else that could compromise you, you eagerly gulp down the remainder of your drink, savoring the last few drops of goodness, and make your way towards the parlor’s exit.

“Where are you going now?” you hear a voice behind you, stopping you in your tracks just as you reach the doorway. You feel a weighty palm start to hold down your shoulder, making you cringe.

This time, though, you don’t turn around, even though you can feel Sunday again with his soft lips on you, pressing to your nape. He traps your body within his unexpectedly tight grasp, smugly laughing at the way you fail to shy away from his bruising grip. His other hand gives your inner thigh a pinch as you unsuccessfully thrash against him and try to free your helpless body.

“I don’t believe I feel very well, sir…” you groan weakly. Sunday’s grin suddenly becomes significantly less restricting, but the air that you breathe only serves to pull you into a soothing daze. “Mr. Sunday, apologies… but I don’t think I recall you making any comments about the potency of Amontillado…”

“Mind if I move in closer?” Sunday remarks, closing the distance that lies between his chest and your back. He grips your face, slowly turning you around so that you’re looking straight into his striking golden irises.

“Don't be sorry, my dear… you’ll be fine— as long as you realize that you need to be taken care of.”

The door in front of you starts to grow farther in distance, its edges also becoming more hazy. Your vision begins to blur no matter how much you try to stand up and blink, and you let your body succumb to Sunday’s now-gentle clutches, falling into them before as he slowly drags you back towards himself. Sunday leads you through the parlor door again, and your drowsy legs give up after only a few steps. Your body, which has become almost immovable, collapses onto the couch and meets the cushions with a muffled crash. Lying on your side with your eyes half-lidded, you hear the sound of the door softly shutting and a click locking you inside.

“I don’t think you’re well enough to get home,” Sunday chides. You open your eyes to see him again at your side, sitting upright above you with his typical stately, regal air. He runs his thumb across your cheek in a smooth, calculated sweep before leaning intently over you, which allows his halo to cast a shadow of thorns that covers your exhausted form. His other hand keeps your head still while he tries to rhythmically give you headpats, which you aren’t taking too well.

“Poor thing, you couldn’t handle the contents of your drink well enough,” he says, thinking more to himself than to you. “But now, it seems that you really do have a reason to stay here tonight…”

Half an hour earlier, you wondered if he had planned this in advance, but the answer now seems to be obvious. You clumsily attempt to sit up as you speak, grasping the armrests for support.

“Mr. Sunday, you’re being very pushy, you know…” you trail off, using the last of what remains of your little energy to make a truthful retort.

He only responds with a chuckle as genuine as your confession— what you can only assume is a rare show of honesty.

“That’s… quite a blunt thing to say—” Sunday’s expression looks more taken aback than he’d like it to, though he recollects himself in a matter of seconds. “—though I'd like to think of it as being opportunistic.”

Smugly smiling to himself, Sunday takes the opportunity to take off your hat, only slightly wrinkled. He plants his fingers within the strands of your hair, giving it a harsh pull that catches you off-guard. You clench your teeth and let out a minuscule whine in protest.

With that, he whispers something to himself, which you make the mistake of paying no mind to.

Sunday remains unspeaking for the next few moments, and your quivering lips unwillingly seal themselves shut for the time being. You let your many worries be lulled away by the following silence that is only interrupted by Sunday softly singing a lullaby, an unknown tune that seems to sedate you, quite inexplicably. The new baritone hum engulfs you and blissfully drowns out any concerns that you have. You don’t bother to question where this newfound state of bliss has come from— or why the warm rays of light emanating from Sunday’s halo are making you woozy.

“C-cold…” you cry out as Sunday pushes against your neck’s pulse point with his covered index finger. He makes routine shushing noises while moving his index finger towards your mouth once more, which he simply rests on top of your lips. You tremble against the frigid chill that seeps through the gentle hands that gingerly caress your chin, out of the glove’s intricate cross.

Reveling in your shaking nervousness, Sunday attentively studies every other part of you. He takes in all of it with unbridled excitement in his eager, starlit eyes. Fortunately, he lets you look away when he suddenly pulls your hand close to his cheek— instead of your face, all of Sunday’s focus is now on tenderly caring for your hand. With his own two hands, he moves the back of yours to touch his lips, planting kisses all the way up to your knuckles.

Sunday keeps at this for a while before moving you to be on top of his lap, which he does with ease. As you open your mouth to speak, however, you feel your whines being muffled by the very hands that have gotten too close to you.

“Not many have a level of skill that matches yours. I would be very disappointed in you if tonight were to be the end of our professional relationship.” Sunday states earnestly, pulling you closer to him so you can see his seemingly innocent smile.

You try to pull at the arm covering your nose and mouth, but before you can he has both your hands pinned behind your back. He sighs, disappointed at your attempts to fight him.

“However, I’m not willing to work with someone so uncooperative. I’d much rather have someone more amenable, more compliant. You can be both of those things, can’t you?”

You squirm from within Sunday’s tight hold on you, unable to get away from his whispers flowing directly into your ears and his warm breath on your skin. Soon, he finally removes his hand from your mouth, leaving a thin thread of drool that eventually breaks. Your sharp, erratic breaths turn into more consistent ones, and you begin to form hazy thoughts.

The terms of your contract for this current project weren’t set that long ago, and he had signed it. But what did a simple contract signify to a man who had already forgone professional protocol just hours ago? However, even though the contract was broken, you couldn’t just lose one of your most generous, eminent clients…

“Now, I’ll ask you once again: are you sure you don’t want to stay with me?” Sunday asks with noticeable reverence in his voice. He shifts his position to kneel next to your limp body, lethargically laying on the plush cushions of the couch once again.

"No- I’ll stay..." After a hesitant pause, you finally acquiesce with a stutter that makes the winged man looking down at you lovingly bring his forehead to touch yours. A few of his lustrous silver locks touch your clenched jaw.

Accepting Sunday’s request is all you can do in this situation— the choice was never yours to make.

"Very good, very good…” he says with another laugh. A satisfied grin continues to widen on Sunday’s face, looking perfectly in place. You flinch and back away when he brings a hand closer to you.

“You needn’t be so panicked, dear… after all, there won’t be anyone else here to hear you.” He stretches his wings to cover his victorious, anticipating smile, which only leaves his eyes for you to see. Sunday peels away the silk of his gloves from his untouched hands, leaving fingers that have yet to explore you. He doesn’t say anything as he comfortably lets himself rest on top of you, putting each of his thighs on either side of you. Sunday’s knees start to squeeze your hips, still clothed— but not for long given the desperate way his fists form balls from the fabric that will not cling to you for much longer. His lips plant another firm kiss against your neck once again— but this time, it is in victory.

“That took a lot of convincing.”

---

Thanks for reading! Reblogs > likes but both are much appreciated 💜

#-- the works of cora.#hsr sunday #sunday hsr #honkai star rail #Sunday Oak x reader #Sunday hsr x reader #hsr Sunday x reader #sunday honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail Sunday x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr x gn reader #honkai star rail x reader

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