diasease

[diasease]

because he had to

because rin had to obey his family, he agreed to marry you—yet as you, who had quietly loved him for years, found yourself falling even deeper, you began to wonder if the way he stayed, listened, and chose you in the quiet moments meant he wasn’t with you out of obligation... but because he wanted to be.

starring. itoshi rin x fem!reader

genre. romance, angst, domestic fluff, slow burn, emotional healing, arranged marriage au, slice of life.

wc. 12.5k

cw. generational trauma, misogynistic comments, toxic family dynamics, emotional repression.

author's note: i actually wrote this since i can't sleep and this prompt has been sitting in my drafts for a while now

You first saw Itoshi Rin when you were around ten years old, at a grand charity gala your parents insisted you attend. You were still small enough to get away with hiding under buffet tables or sneaking extra dessert plates, but that night, something made you pause.

He was sitting at a corner table, not quite sulking but clearly not enjoying himself. His older brother, Sae, stood just a few feet away, surrounded by adults clapping him on the back, heaping praise for his early success in football. Rin sat stiffly, watching in silence, his small hands clenched in his lap. He must have been only a year or two older than you, but already you noticed the way his shoulders curled in—like he was used to shrinking himself down beside Sae’s spotlight.

What stuck with you wasn’t Sae’s fame. It was the subtle way Rin glanced at his brother—part admiration, part resignation. He looked like he was used to being second. But Sae didn’t look pleased either. In fact, the older boy was barely masking his annoyance, his lips in a tight line as though the attention was more exhausting than flattering. And in that strange moment—amid clinking wine glasses and adult laughter—you realized both brothers hated being there, just in different ways.

You didn’t talk to Rin then. Just observed him from behind your parents’ tailored clothes. And then you kept seeing him.

At more events—charity auctions, fundraising banquets, community celebrations that tied your two influential families together. Sometimes it was just a nod, a glance from across the ballroom, a shared glance when the grown-ups talked too loud or said the wrong thing. One time, at your cousin’s wedding, you didn’t realize your dress zipper had broken. You were too busy helping with the reception program when someone placed a warm jacket over your shoulders. You turned around in surprise, and there he was—Rin. He didn’t say anything, just gave a small nod before walking away. That coat smelled like mint and laundry detergent, and you remembered thinking how quiet boys always noticed the important things.

You ended up attending the same prestigious high school, though you were in different classes. Rin was already well on his way to stardom—dedicated to football, almost unreachable in his discipline. You found your own rhythm in the science labs and student council meetings, pouring yourself into volunteer work, biology papers, and late-night cram sessions.

Your family came from a long line of doctors—all men, all top of their class. You were the first daughter in generations to pursue medicine, but no one discouraged you. In fact, your parents were unusually supportive, proudly calling you their “game-changer.” Medicine wasn’t just a family legacy to you—it was your choice, your dream. You wanted it more than anything else. And after years of sleepless nights, caffeine-fueled revisions, and anatomy charts tattooed behind your eyelids, you had finally graduated.

You were now a first-year resident, newly transitioned from the chaos of med school into the grueling hours of internship. It was hard. No one romanticized the truth—thirty-hour shifts, patients coding, seniors snapping, hands that trembled from exhaustion. But you loved it. Every messy, sleep-deprived, adrenaline-filled second of it.

Rin’s trajectory wasn’t any less impressive. His family, known for producing world-class athletes and ruthless business tycoons, had high expectations—and Rin met every single one. He dominated the Japan Football League like a silent storm, precise and terrifying in his technique. Off the field, he ran training camps for aspiring athletes, managed a string of sports clinics, and co-owned a retail chain of elite gear stores. Rin wasn’t just a star player—he was building an empire with the same laser-sharp focus he had as a child.

You had accepted that your paths would always run parallel. Close, almost intimate, but never crossing.

Until the day you dragged yourself home after a brutal twenty-four-hour hospital shift, having juggled emergency rotations and review materials for your upcoming internship exams, and your parents sat you down at the dinner table.

They looked too calm. The kind of calm that came right before life took a sharp, irreversible turn.

“We have something to tell you,” your mother said gently, folding her hands.

Your father smiled, as if this was good news.

And then they said it.

You were engaged—to Itoshi Rin.

You didn’t complain—you saw this coming.

You had prepared yourself for it years ago, the possibility always lingering quietly in the back of your mind like a shadow at the edge of a doorframe. And truthfully? You didn’t care. Not in the way that made most women your age spiral into panic or daydreams. You had already built a life for yourself—a solid, hard-earned future that didn’t depend on anyone else.

You were a doctor now—first female in your family to make it past the impossible bar set by generations of male predecessors. You graduated with honors, fought tooth and nail through sleepless nights and clinical rotations, survived condescending mentors and soul-crushing shifts. You were already enough.

So if your name was to be tied to Itoshi Rin’s—if your future was to include a man chosen not by your heart but by obligation—you’d manage. Like always.

After all, you came from a long line of women who did the same.

Arranged marriages were practically tradition in your family—your mother included. But hers was the rare kind that bloomed over time. Your parents' marriage became something beautiful, built on mutual respect and unspoken understanding. What started as strategy became a sanctuary—resulting in a home filled with love, quiet strength, and two children who never once doubted what affection felt like.

Maybe, somewhere in your heart, you hoped yours would follow that path.

And to be fair—you liked Rin. Even before this engagement was proposed.

He was familiar to you. You’d seen him at social events growing up—quiet in the corners, head slightly bowed, posture straight, always watching. Always listening. You went to the same prestigious high school, though his reputation preceded him. Stoic. Calculated. Intimidatingly brilliant. You were never close, but your paths crossed often enough that his name never felt foreign in your mouth.

And now—it was bound to yours.

The engagement was announced the way everything in Rin’s world was—polished, pristine, and press-ready. A curated image for the public to consume. His family handled the release—a glossy photo of the two of you, a generic caption about love and legacy. It was posted to official pages, picked up by sports blogs, and spread across gossip forums before the ink on the paperwork even dried.

You didn’t even mind. You were used to pressure. To scrutiny. To people making assumptions about your life without knowing a single thing about it.

And that’s how you found yourself standing at the entrance of a penthouse—high above the city, luxury wrapped in glass and marble—gifted by Rin’s parents as a pre-wedding gesture. A shared space for a shared future.

You arrived first—boxes filled with textbooks, surgical clogs, and two dozen mugs from med school. You picked the guest room to unpack in, unsure if it was too soon to claim the master bedroom. Not that Rin would have cared.

He moved in two days later—silent, efficient, meticulous. No questions. No expectations.

Rin wasn’t cold—not the way people thought.

He was quiet. He was reserved. But he was also the kind of man who paid attention in the softest, most deliberate ways.

He cooked dinners on the nights you came home late, even if it was already past midnight. He didn’t complain when you were too exhausted to eat properly, instead placing a warm bowl in front of you, murmuring, “At least a few bites. I’ll warm the rest later if you want it.”

And when you had to study for your internship exam, Rin was there. Not in a loud or flashy way, but present in the little things. He brought coffee to your desk without asking, sometimes with a post-it stuck to the mug that read, You’re doing great. I’m proud of you.

“Don’t fall asleep on your notes,” he’d say, gently tapping your forehead with a knuckle when you dozed off mid-sentence.

You passed, and Rin celebrated it the way he knew you’d prefer. No huge party, no surprise announcements. Just him, standing in the kitchen with a cake—your favorite flavor—and a spread of greasy takeout food you craved after every long shift. He looked almost smug when you smiled at the sight.

“Thought you’d like this more than people clapping in your face,” he said, opening the plastic containers.

“You were right,” you murmured, leaning on the counter beside him. “This is perfect.”

After that, the transition into your residency was brutal. The hours were longer, the responsibilities heavier, but Rin was always around. Despite training for upcoming matches, juggling press conferences and overseeing his sports brand, he still found time for you. He’d text when he was on the way, and true to his word, he’d be there—waiting at 2am by the hospital’s parking lot in his car, music low, headlights off, eyes tired but patient.

“You should’ve gone home,” you’d tell him as you slid into the passenger seat.

“You looked like you needed a ride more than I needed sleep,” he’d reply simply, hands steady on the wheel.

Sometimes, when your shifts required staying overnight, Rin would send food—carefully packed, with your name scribbled on the lid in black marker. He’d even send two sets if he thought you forgot your lunch too. And when you finally returned home after days of being on call, he’d pull you into a hug so firm it threatened to break you.

“You smell like antiseptic,” he’d mutter against your shoulder.

“You smell like overpriced cologne,” you’d say back, muffled into his chest. But you never pulled away.

At home, you often ended up sprawled on the couch with your head on his lap, recounting the chaos of your day. Rin would run his fingers gently through your hair, pausing only to smooth the strands when they tangled.

“One of my patients coded and came back after six minutes,” you told him once, eyes wide with leftover adrenaline. “It was surreal. His eyes opened and he asked for water like nothing happened.”

Rin blinked, then tilted his head. “So he technically died?”

“Technically, yes.”

He let out a soft whistle. “You guys are scary.”

You laughed, breathless from the high of saving someone’s life. “You play in front of fifty thousand people. I think we’re even.”

Rin hummed. “Yeah, but no one flatlines on the pitch.”

Moments like these painted a picture of something gentle, something bordering on intimate. He remembered what snacks you liked after a long day. He learned how to recognize when you needed to talk versus when you needed silence. He was always there, always attentive, always kind.

But underneath it all—behind the small comforts and shared routines—you knew the truth.

He only agreed to the engagement because it was expected of him.

Because his parents arranged it. Because you were a match that made sense on paper—two heirs from reputable families, both successful in your own rights. Because this was how your world worked.

And you accepted that.

Because that was how it always went for women in your family. Because your mother had once told you that love wasn’t the foundation, but rather something you learned—if you were lucky.

So you stopped hoping for anything more than this quiet companionship, this respectful co-existence.

Because he had to.

And you would learn to be okay with that.

Okay with letting go of the little things—your favorite flowers not making the bouquet, the venue being in his family’s preferred country club, the gown being selected before you even had time to breathe. You would learn to nod when asked a question, even if the answer had already been decided for you.

Most of the wedding planning was orchestrated by his family. You quickly realized that your presence in the room was more ceremonial than necessary. It was his mother and aunts who ran the show, voices firm and faces practiced in subtle smiles that didn’t quite reach their eyes. They had a vision, and you—well, you were just expected to fit into it.

You said yes a lot. Yes to the menu, yes to the flowers, yes to the dress his mother thought would “balance out your shoulders.” It didn’t matter if you liked it. It was easier to agree than to fight a battle you were never going to win.

And always, always, their comments had a certain edge to them. Not loud enough to cause a scene, but sharp enough to cut.

“She’s always so tired, isn’t she? I suppose that's what happens when you're running around in a hospital all day,” his mother would murmur with a sip of wine.

“You’d think someone in medicine would have more time management,” an aunt said once while flipping through the guest list. “She nearly missed the cake tasting last week.”

Another chimed in, almost sympathetically, “Well, it's not easy balancing a career and a wedding. I suppose it’s admirable she’s trying at all.”

You smiled through it. Every time. You bit your tongue until it hurt and you smiled. Because you weren’t just marrying Rin. You were marrying into all of them. And after all, wasn’t this what they wanted? What your parents wanted? What was expected?

Rin wasn’t there for most of it. He had flown to Spain with Sae for a training camp. The timing couldn’t have been worse—or maybe it was perfect, depending on who you asked. His mother had taken it as a sign to step in fully. You, on the other hand, simply tried not to crumble.

But Rin... Rin still tried.

He would call you whenever he could—between practices, at odd hours when he knew you’d be on break or walking home from the hospital. His voice was steady, a little tired, but always laced with quiet concern. He didn’t say much, but he always asked if you were holding up, if things were too much, if you were eating.

And in those small, private moments, you felt seen.

You didn’t tell him everything. You never told him how his aunts would make you feel like an accessory instead of a bride. Or how his mother always looked at your hands like they weren’t delicate enough for a wedding band. Or how every time they brought up your job, it was as if it were a phase rather than the result of sleepless nights and years of sacrifice.

Still, Rin had this way of hearing what you didn’t say.

Maybe it was the way your voice dropped when you said “the venue’s fine,” or how long it took you to answer when he asked if you were okay. Maybe it was just Rin—ever quiet, ever watching.

And though he wasn’t there in person, though he couldn’t shoulder any of it physically, his presence still anchored you in a way no one else could.

You were drowning in table settings and fitting appointments and judgment disguised as advice—but whenever you heard his voice, even for a minute, something in you eased.

Even if you were exhausted. Even if your opinion didn’t seem to matter. Even if this wedding felt less and less like yours.

The engagement party was even more of a handful than you imagined.

It was hosted in a hotel ballroom—expansive, gilded, meticulously dressed in white and silver. On paper, it was flawless. But it wasn’t what you wanted.

You had hoped for something small, intimate. A quiet dinner maybe, a celebration with just the people who mattered most. Something you could actually breathe in. Something that wouldn’t feel like a PR move or a corporate gala in disguise.

But your preference didn’t come up.

Or maybe it did—but no one really listened.

His mother had already booked the venue before you were even asked. His aunts handled the guest list. Your own parents said it was “better this way.” You were told to wear the dress already selected for you and show up on time. So you did. Because what else could you do?

Guests arrived in waves—politicians, business partners, executives, hospital board members, distant relatives you’d never met before but were somehow still addressed by their titles.

You recognized none of their names. None of them were there for you.

You stood under the chandelier lights, in heels you didn’t pick, offering polite smiles to people who kept asking if you planned to stop working after the wedding. Some didn’t even know what your job was.

And the worst part?

You had just come off a 24-hour shift at the hospital.

You’d barely made it back in time to shower at the penthouse and lie down for two hours before hair and makeup arrived.

You were running on caffeine and adrenaline.

But you smiled anyway. Because you had to.

When you finally slipped away from the banquet hall, your legs ached and your throat was dry from talking. You found yourself out on the balcony, away from the lights and the noise, leaning on the railing just to keep upright. The cool air stung your skin, but it was the first real breath you took that day.

You weren’t alone for long.

The glass door slid open behind you, and quiet footsteps padded closer.

“Thought I’d find you here,” Rin said softly.

You turned your head slightly, exhausted eyes meeting his. He looked handsome as always in his suit, tie slightly loosened, dark strands falling into his eyes. He had only just returned from Spain a few days ago. You hadn’t even had the chance to really talk.

His gaze swept over you, taking in the curve of your shoulders, the subtle tremble in your arms, the way your back was turned just slightly—like you were too tired to keep your guard up.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice gentler than usual. “Are you holding up?”

You blinked slowly, the sting behind your eyes threatening to spill over.

“I heard you came straight from a 24-hour shift,” he added. “You barely slept, didn’t you?”

“Two hours,” you admitted, voice rough. “If that.”

He exhaled, jaw tightening. Not in frustration at you—but at the situation.

“This party... wasn’t what you wanted, was it?”

You gave a tired laugh, low and bitter. “What I wanted never really mattered.”

He didn’t answer right away. Just moved a little closer, enough that you could feel the heat of him next to you.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should’ve pushed back. I should’ve been here.”

You shook your head, eyes fixed on the city lights beyond the balcony.

“They wouldn’t have listened to you either, Rin.”

“Maybe not,” he murmured. “But I still should’ve been beside you.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

And in that sliver of silence, the music from inside dimmed, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses faded, and it was just the two of you. Just like before—before the pressure, the plans, the politics.

Your eyes fluttered shut, just long enough to feel the weight of his words settle on your chest.

“I’m trying,” you whispered.

“I know,” he said.

And even though everything else felt staged and suffocating, this moment—with just him beside you—was the first time in weeks that felt real.

You tried. God, you tried to be the perfect little daughter-in-law they seemed to want.

Always coming presentable, showing up to their dinners with practiced poise and a strained smile, wearing soft-colored dresses and modest heels, even if you had to change in the hospital locker room. You’d sit through evenings with people you didn’t even know—CEOs, donors, investors, polished women who never broke a sweat, let alone a 30-hour shift—smiling through the remnants of a breakdown you barely had time to feel earlier that day.

Because earlier that day, you lost a patient. A young one. Cardiac arrest. And no matter how many times you ran the rhythm check or how many rounds of epi you administered, they never came back. You washed your face with cold water and shoved your grief into a neat little box so you could go to his family's dinner.

Because you didn’t want to be the disappointment. Not after everything. Not when you were the first female doctor in a long line of men. Not when their entire family had planned the wedding. Not when you still held that flicker of hope that maybe—just maybe—someone at that table would see you for who you were.

But alas, everything has a boiling point.

Yours came at a dinner held in Rin’s childhood home. His entire extended family was there—your own parents, too, sitting stiffly at one end of the long, polished wooden table, like two pieces of fine china that didn’t quite match the rest of the set.

You had just come off a 30-hour shift, the last 13 hours of which were spent inside an operating room after the lead surgeon collapsed mid-procedure. You were the one who stepped up. Held the scalpel. Led the team. Saved the patient.

And then, running on half a protein bar and caffeine that burned your gut, you let Rin pick you up straight from the hospital. He offered to cancel the dinner, but you shook your head. “I’ll be fine,” you lied, pinching your cheeks for color in the mirror of his car.

You should’ve known better.

Because the moment you stepped into that dining room, you felt the eyes—judgment dressed as concern.

“She’s paler than the daikon,” one of his aunts said with a light chuckle as she sipped her soup. “Are you sure you’re eating enough, sweetheart?”

“You poor thing,” another aunt added. “Do you even have time to do your hair? You’re always so… busy.”

You tried to breathe through it, through the tightness in your chest, through the taste of iron at the back of your throat. Rin glanced at you, the muscle in his jaw ticking—but he didn’t speak. Not yet.

And then came the real blow.

“Well, I suppose it must be difficult,” one of Rin’s uncles said, swirling his wine like he was about to make a toast. “Being the only female doctor in your family. That’s quite the burden. But you’ll quit when you start a family, won’t you? I mean, no husband wants a wife too tired to care for the kids.”

Laughter followed. A low, agreeable chuckle from the end of the table, and a few muttered “true”s and “just saying”s that felt more like daggers than conversation.

“I mean, sweetheart, you’re just a resident—not even a full physician or surgeon yet at this point.” One of Rin’s uncles leaned back in his chair, lips curved in amusement like he was giving sage advice and not dismissing years of your hard work with a single sentence.

“He’s right,” another aunt piped in, her voice laced with faux sympathy, the kind that dripped more venom than concern. “You’re better off as a housewife.”

There was a beat of silence before another relative added, as if it were the most logical conclusion in the world, “Do you even know how to cook or clean?"

A few more chuckles followed. You weren’t sure if they were laughing at their own cruelty or at the look on your face, but either way, it made your stomach twist.

You sat there frozen.

Your hands rested in your lap, fingers curled so tightly into your palms that your nails bit into your skin. You looked at Rin—stiff and silent, jaw clenched, eyes cast low. Your heart pounded in your chest, not from embarrassment, but from the growing storm inside you. You mentally begged him to say something. Anything.

You silently begged him to look at you. To speak up. To make them stop.

But he just stayed silent.

"Excuse me," you said, your voice low and trembling as you stood up from the table. Your chair scraped softly against the hardwood floor, far too gentle a sound for the chaos building inside your chest.

You had barely taken a step when one of his uncles laughed again and muttered, “Overreacting, aren’t we? Must be the hormones.”

Something in you cracked.

You turned around.

"I followed everything you asked me to do," you started, voice shaking, but louder now. "I swallowed my pride and played the part you all wanted me to play. I stayed quiet while you planned a wedding I didn’t even have a say in. I smiled through every dinner, every meeting, every fitting—even when I felt like I didn’t belong."

You paused. Your throat burned, but you refused to cry yet.

“I stayed silent every single time you belittled my career. I worked ten—no, more—years of my life for those two letters after my name. MD. I missed birthdays, holidays, sleep, my youth, to earn that. And you all reduce me to a glorified housewife with no ambition—like I'm some accessory to Rin’s life and not someone who has her own.”

More silence. Their smug expressions turned neutral, uneasy. But Rin still said nothing. You turned your eyes to him—pleading, searching—for something. Anything.

Nothing came.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips.

“You know what? I don’t want this anymore,” you whispered, the words tasting like blood in your mouth. “You can find someone else who’s fine being your doll. Someone who’ll smile and nod and cook and clean and never talk back. Because I sure as hell am not her.”

Your voice cracked.

“You can talk shit about me all you want—I’ve gotten used to that. But you don’t get to talk down on what I worked my entire life for. I’ve poured every ounce of my being into becoming the woman I am. And you all sit there laughing like I’m nothing but a joke.”

Tears burned in your eyes. You didn’t want to cry in front of them. God, you hated crying in front of them. But it was too late now.

You looked at Rin again, and this time, your voice broke as your gaze locked with his. “And you. You saw how hard I worked. All those nights I called you from the hospital. All the times you told me I was incredible, that you admired me. You knew how much this meant to me. And you let them tear me to pieces right in front of you.”

His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t move. Didn't reach for you. Didn’t say a word.

“I loved you,” you said, the final blow. Your breath hitched. “All these years—I loved you. Even before this stupid engagement. Even when we were kids and you barely looked at me at those family events. I loved you.”

Silence.

Your heart felt like it was collapsing inside your chest.

You reached up and slid the engagement ring off your finger. Your hand trembled as you placed it on the table in front of Rin.

“It’s over,” you whispered, voice hoarse and raw. “I’m calling this off.”

Then you turned around and walked out the door—this time, no one dared to laugh.

The tension that lingered in your absence was suffocating. It clung to the ornate walls of the dining room like smoke, thick with the remnants of mockery, judgment, and something worse—entitlement. For a moment, no one moved. Then, the silence was broken by a scoff. Rin's mother.

"Honestly," she said, dabbing at her lips with a cloth napkin, her voice dripping with faux exasperation. "I was just being polite, but I always knew that girl didn’t quite fit in with us. I have another girl in mind to continue this engagement. Someone better suited for this family. With better pedigree."

"Better breeding," muttered one of the aunts with a knowing smirk. "Not just some overworked girl playing pretend as a doctor."

One of the uncles snorted. “Her family’s money might come from hospitals, but it’s nothing compared to the legacy of the Itoshi name. A few doctors in white coats don’t hold a candle to generations of status.”

"All that effort," another chimed in with mock pity, swirling wine in his glass, "just to end up being a glorified caregiver in a glorified clinic. That’s not ambition. That’s settling.”

Rin had been staring at the ring the whole time. The one you'd taken off and left in front of him—gently, without a word, without drama, just the way you always did things. Quiet. Graceful. Strong. His fingers twitched.

Then—

“Shut the fuck up. All of you.”

The room snapped to attention.

Rin stood slowly, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His voice was steady but laced with the kind of fury that burned from the inside out.

“She just got off a thirty-hour shift. Thirteen of those hours, she was standing in an operating room after the head surgeon collapsed. And you have the audacity to sit here and laugh at her? Call her unworthy? She saved lives last night while you all drank champagne and polished your fucking heirlooms.”

He looked at each of them, his gaze sharp enough to cut glass.

“She is more admirable than any of you—than any of your wives who haven't lifted a finger for anyone but themselves. Who’ve never touched anything real other than a wine glass or jewelry they wear to cover up their loveless marriages and affairs.”

One of the uncles opened his mouth, “She’s just a glorified caregiver—”

“She’s a fucking doctor,” Rin barked, slamming his hand on the table, the plates rattling violently. “A better doctor than you ever were a father, or a businessman, or a fucking man, considering the only thing you’re good at is gambling away your inheritance and chasing women young enough to be your daughter!”

Another aunt tried to speak, but Rin cut her off too.

“And don’t you dare talk about her family like they’re beneath us. At least they earned their name. They built something from compassion and service—not from exploiting people or stepping on others just to climb higher.”

Sae stood then, trying to place a hand on Rin’s shoulder, trying to calm him. “Rin—”

“Don’t,” Rin snapped, brushing his hand off without looking at him. “Don’t try to stop me. You’ve done that our whole lives. Let me say what I need to say.”

There was something feral about him now, like he had been caged his entire life, and the bars were finally breaking.

He looked at his mother.

“You knew my only condition for this arranged marriage,” he said, voice low and raw. “You knew that the only reason I agreed to it was because it was her. I told you from the start—if it wasn’t her, I wasn’t going to go through with it. You knew that. And now you're throwing her away like she was disposable?”

“She overreacted—”

“No,” he snapped. “She endured. For months. She endured the cold stares, the snide remarks, the condescending tones from all of you, just to make this family proud. And I—” his voice cracked for the first time, pain flickering behind his rage, “I let her. I stood here and let all of you chip away at the one person who saw me for me.”

He reached toward the ring that sat untouched in front of him. The heirloom. The same one you left just moments ago with trembling fingers.

Rin picked it up and walked toward his mother, standing in front of her like a final act of rebellion.

“I don’t need this anymore,” he said. “This ring, this entire charade—you can keep it. Because I already had something made for her. Something I designed. For a proposal I planned. After all this bullshit was over. Something simple. Something real. Something hers.”

His mother looked horrified. The uncles murmured, but no one dared to interrupt again.

“I loved her,” Rin continued, quieter now, as if the rage was slowly hollowing out into something else—grief. “Since we were kids. I didn’t even realize it at first. But every time I saw her at those childhood events, every time she smiled at me like I wasn’t just the second son of a cold empire, I loved her. And now she’s gone. All because this family couldn’t stomach the idea of someone good being part of it.”

He took a shaky breath and looked back at the table one last time.

“And you—” he pointed at one of his uncles, “—talk like you're above everyone when you’re the one who couldn’t even stay faithful to your wife.”

"And you," he turned to another, "have the nerve to comment on love and worth when your own children won’t even speak to you."

He stepped back. “I stayed in this because I wanted to please all of you. I did everything you asked. Soccer. Branding. The name. But I set one condition—and you broke it. So now I’m done. I’m not marrying anyone else. I won’t play this role for you anymore. I won’t be your pawn.”

Rin turned and walked out, the weight of everything crashing down on his shoulders. He didn’t look back.

A sharp silence fell over the room in his absence—like all the air had been sucked out. Everyone was too stunned to move, to speak. The engagement ring Rin had left behind sat untouched in front of their mother, its presence colder than steel, heavier than gold.

Sae leaned back in his seat, dragging a hand down his face. Then he exhaled long and slow, like this entire dinner had been rotting from the start. His gaze swept across the room, not rushing, but resting—unforgiving—on each of their faces.

"You know," Sae started quietly, "I used to think keeping quiet was the best way to keep peace in this family. Smile through it. Swallow the poison and call it dinner."

His voice dropped a little lower, his tone chilling. "But after what I just witnessed? I think it's time someone tells the truth—no matter how ugly."

Their mother straightened, eyes narrowing, as if bracing herself. But Sae didn’t flinch.

"You sit there acting like Rin’s ungrateful. Like he's immature. But what I saw just now? That wasn’t a tantrum. That was someone finally realizing he’s done bending over backwards for people who only want him when he’s compliant and silent."

There was a shift in the room. An invisible thread pulled taut.

Sae laughed bitterly. “You all act so concerned about appearances. Your image. Your status. Your legacy. And yet behind all that, do any of you even remember how to care for your own blood?”

He looked at their mother now, sharp and unwavering. “You want to lecture Rin about duty? When all you've ever done is try to mold him into a version of himself that you could show off like an accessory at fundraisers.”

She opened her mouth—maybe to protest, maybe to defend herself—but Sae cut her off.

"You think I didn’t notice what you did to him all those years? How every time I tried to take on the pressure so Rin wouldn’t have to, you just redirected it harder on him? I left to shield him from this circus. I took the heat, the spotlight, the expectation. And somehow, you still made him carry it alone."

Sae paused, his jaw tense. “And I regret that. I regret leaving him with people who were supposed to love him, but instead made him feel like love was a transaction. Like he had to earn it.”

His father’s fingers clenched lightly around his glass. His mother said nothing, but her stare was steely, unrepentant.

“You wonder why Rin and I grew apart? Why he never wanted to follow in anyone’s footsteps?” Sae scoffed under his breath. “Maybe it’s because he grew up watching two people stay in a marriage out of obligation and image instead of love.”

His father’s lips thinned. “Watch yourself, Sae.”

“No,” Sae said sharply. “No more watching myself. That’s what we’ve all been doing—watching this family crack and rot under the weight of pride.”

He stood slowly, every movement deliberate, controlled, but beneath it all simmered an anger older than the silverware on their polished table. “You all just saw the girl Rin loves walk out of here with tears in her eyes. And instead of reaching out, you judged her. That’s the girl he’s talked about for years—told me how she’d find him at every function, how she actually listened when he spoke. How she made him feel seen.”

Sae’s voice dropped. “Do you even understand what that means? Feeling seen? Because Rin’s spent most of his life feeling like a shadow in this house.”

Another beat of silence.

He shook his head. “I’m going after him. Because clearly, none of you will.”

And without waiting for a reply, Sae turned and walked away—out the door, out of that godforsaken room with its stifling legacy and empty crystal glasses.

The air was cool that evening, the kind of soft breeze that carried old memories with it. Rin sat alone on the edge of the small football field behind their family home—one they used to play in as kids, back when the world was simpler. His cleats dug into the grass, half-forgotten as he leaned back on his hands, eyes turned toward the soft dusk sky.

He didn’t turn when he heard footsteps approach.

“You always did like brooding out here.”

Rin exhaled, almost amused, before glancing sideways. “And you always liked finding me when I did.”

Sae stood beside him, hands tucked in the pockets of his coat, eyes scanning the empty field like it still held echoes of their childhood laughter. “I didn’t come to pick a fight,” he said quietly.

“I didn’t think you did,” Rin replied, patting the grass next to him.

Sae hesitated for a second before sitting down. Silence settled between them—not heavy, but thoughtful.

“I’ve been thinking,” Sae said, “about how things turned out. And if… I ever made you feel like I was too far away from you. Not just physically. I mean… everything.”

Rin’s lips tightened. “I know you didn’t mean to. But yeah,” he admitted, voice softer, “it hurt. You were always the one I looked up to. And then suddenly, it felt like I couldn’t reach you anymore.”

Sae’s jaw clenched. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should’ve done better. Should’ve been better.”

Rin shook his head, staring down at his hands. “We’re here now, I guess. That’s something.”

“It is.” Sae looked over at his brother. “You know… I’m proud of you. For not giving up on her. For fighting for the love of your life.”

Rin’s brows furrowed, eyes flickering to his brother. “Why are you saying that like it’s something you couldn’t do?”

Sae smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Because it’s not something I did. I let her go.”

There was a long pause.

“Maybe it’s not too late,” Rin said. “You always told me life’s too long to carry regrets.”

Sae chuckled, low and self-deprecating. “Might be already too late, Rin.”

“But you never know.”

The older Itoshi brother looked up at the sky, eyes distant. “Yeah… maybe.”

Then, with a sigh, he stood and dusted his pants off. “Go to her.”

Rin looked up.

“Go,” Sae repeated. “She’s still your home. And I think she’s still waiting for you to find your way back.”

Rin didn’t hesitate. He stood, nodding once. And within the hour, he was in the car, heading toward the penthouse they’d shared since the engagement.

He entered quietly, hoping he hadn’t missed her by seconds. But the moment he stepped in, his heart dropped.

Everything was still in place. Her shoes by the door. Her favorite mug drying on the rack. Her coats still hung beside his.

But she wasn’t there.

He checked every room, calling out softly. Nothing.

The silence was deafening.

He didn’t want to assume the worst. So instead, he respected the quiet. He sat down in the living room and looked around—remembering all the nights she fell asleep on the couch waiting for him, the mornings she’d leave notes on the fridge after another night shift, how their life had slowly started to blend into one.

But he also remembered something else: the old apartment near the hospital. The one she used before everything—before the chaos of the engagement, before they were a unit. She hadn’t been there in months. Not since she moved in with him.

And though he didn’t know the exact address, he knew it was close to her work. He could call. He could search. But he didn’t want to push. He didn’t want to chase her too hard, not when she was still hurting.

So he stayed back. Waited. Gave her space, even if every part of him itched to go find her.

Meanwhile, in the quiet familiarity of the old apartment, you curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your lap, the cup of tea on the side table already cold and untouched. The walls still smelled faintly of old books and eucalyptus—home. Comfort. A scent you always loved.

It was quieter here.

No press calls. No stylists or wedding planners asking you to adjust your schedule. No constant reminders of the version of yourself you were supposed to become just to fit neatly into another family’s idea of what a wife should be.

Here, you didn’t have to smile politely when someone talked over you. Or pretend their backhanded compliments didn’t sting.

The doorbell rang, cutting through the silence. You hesitated, then stood, dragging the blanket along with you. When you opened it, your parents stood there—your father with his hands deep in his coat pockets, your mother’s shoulders slightly slumped but her eyes sharp with worry.

Neither of them said anything at first.

They stepped inside like it was instinct, like it would always be their place too. The door clicked shut behind them, and despite the air being still and thick with unsaid words, the apartment felt warmer just by their presence.

It was your mother who spoke first.

“What was that all about earlier?” she asked, voice softer than usual, but disappointed all the same. “You walked out of that dinner like you were setting fire to the table.”

You looked away, your throat tight. “Because I was tired of pretending.”

Your father sat down on the armrest of the chair across from you. “Pretending what?”

You swallowed hard. “That everything they said didn’t bother me. That I could just keep sitting there while Rin’s aunts looked me in the eye and made jokes about how I’m ‘too smart for my own good’ or that I should ‘take off the lab coat and put on an apron’ once I marry into the Itoshi family.”

Your mother’s lips thinned.

“They insulted me, right in front of everyone,” you continued, voice cracking now. “They mocked our family—said we were only good for hospitals and surgeries and wondered how someone like me, who works graveyard shifts in an ER, would ‘entertain’ a man like Rin.”

You laughed bitterly. “Then why did you even arrange this in the first place?”

There was a long pause. You looked between the two people who raised you—taught you how to stitch your first wound, taught you to never fold under pressure.

“We agreed to the engagement because we thought you would be happy,” your mother finally said, her voice quieter now. “Because we knew you liked Rin. You’ve liked him for years, even if you never admitted it. And when the Itoshis approached us, it… it felt like it made sense.”

You closed your eyes. “They don’t like me.”

“They don’t know you,” your father said. “Not the way we do. You’re a hardheaded girl, you always were. You never let anyone tell you what you can or can’t do. You broke every expectation the family had because you believed you could do better—and you did.”

You opened your eyes again, blinking through the haze.

Your mother took a step closer. “If you’ve made up your mind… if you want to end the engagement, then we’ll support you. And if you want to leave the country for a while, take some time to breathe, we’ll support that too.”

You looked at them both—your parents, tired from the dinner, from the expectations, from the tug-of-war between two families—but still standing here, with you. Choosing you.

“You’re not alone in this,” your father said gently. “You never were.”

Tears pricked your eyes, but this time, they weren’t from humiliation or exhaustion. This time, they came from the warmth that bloomed quietly in your chest—the kind only home could bring.

And that’s what you did—booked a one-way ticket from Tokyo to Tromsø, Norway.

No return date. No itinerary. Just your passport, one suitcase, and the aching exhaustion of trying to please everyone except yourself.

You had mentioned it to Rin once. A few months ago, back when the engagement had just been announced. When the two of you were still learning how to exist around each other—not quite strangers, not quite lovers. Just two people trying to navigate a decision made on their behalf.

It was during a quiet evening at your family’s countryside villa. The air was crisper there, and the sky spilled stars in a way Tokyo never could. You had both slipped away from the formal dinner after too many toasts, your head light from the wine and the pressure. Rin had found you sitting at the edge of the garden steps, your heels discarded in the grass.

“I read about this place once,” you said as he settled beside you, hands resting loosely on his knees. “Tromsø, in Norway. Far north. They say in the winter, the sun disappears for months. But the Northern Lights come out like a dream.”

Rin tilted his head. “Sounds freezing.”

You laughed softly. “It is. But kind of beautiful, right? A place where it’s dark all the time, but something still dances in the sky.”

There was a quiet moment between you, the kind that didn’t demand to be filled. Then Rin murmured, “Is that where you want to go when it all becomes to loud."

You glanced at him, surprised. Then you nodded. “Someday. I don’t know when. But I’d like to.”

He hummed. “Let me know when you do. Maybe I’ll go with you.”

And you had smiled at that. Silly, hopeful thing that you were.

But now, as the final plane descended onto the snow-dusted runway of Tromsø Airport—twenty-four hours later, red-eyed from layovers, your limbs stiff and heavy from travel—he wasn’t here.

The cold was immediate when the terminal doors opened. Icy wind kissed your cheeks as you stepped out, the kind that bit into your skin and made you feel alive all at once. You pulled your scarf tighter, breathing in frost and something like freedom.

You had booked a small cabin on the outskirts of the city, tucked near the fjords. It wasn’t much, just one bedroom and a stove that needed coaxing to warm, but it was quiet. Untouched. A world away from Tokyo’s blinking lights and bitter dinner parties.

You dropped your bags by the door and stood in silence, listening to the hush of snowfall outside the window. No phones buzzing. No family expectations echoing in your ears. Just the whisper of wind and the possibility of healing.

And as you sank into the unfamiliar bed that night, the aurora just beginning to shimmer faintly through the glass above your head, you wondered—

Would Rin still remember the way you said his name that night?

Would he still remember Tromsø?

You hadn’t left a clue. Not a note. Not a word to anyone. No paper trail, no last-minute phone call. Just the hiss of your apartment door closing softly behind you before the early flight from Tokyo to Tromsø took off into the violet-gray dawn.

This wasn’t supposed to be permanent. You didn’t come here to disappear.

You just needed somewhere quiet—somewhere that didn’t expect anything from you. Somewhere far enough to think, but not so far that it felt like running away.

He wouldn't remember.

That’s what you told yourself again and again. Not when you only ever mentioned it once, months ago, at the beginning—when everything between you and Rin was new and strange and teetering between civil and chaotic. When the engagement was still fresh and everyone expected you to smile, to bend, to be proud and graceful and agreeable in the way your parents always expected you to be.

He wasn’t supposed to remember. But part of you had hoped he would.

You’d been in Tromsø for just under a week, staying at a quiet rental near the harbor, surrounded by pale wooden homes and snow-dusted rooftops. The kind of town where the wind moved slower and people remembered your face after just one visit.

You hadn’t done much—read in bed, walked along the water, bought groceries in awkward English. And every morning, you stopped by the same small café just down the street. It had yellow doors, always warm inside. They already knew your order now: black coffee, two sugars, and a cinnamon roll with extra icing when the ache in your chest got too heavy.

And today, you were walking there again.

Boots crunching softly against a thin dusting of fresh snow, scarf wrapped tightly around your mouth. The clouds overhead looked like they hadn’t moved all morning—gray and full, like something was waiting to break.

You turned the corner. The café was up ahead.

But you stopped.

Because you saw him.

You blinked hard, then again, wondering if your mind was playing tricks on you.

Tall frame. Dark green hair, tousled and damp at the ends from melting snow. He was bundled up in a black wool coat, a thick navy scarf tucked neatly around his neck. He stood near the flower stall beside the bookshop, talking to someone—one of the local vendors, it seemed.

You ducked slightly behind a parked car, your breath catching.

His voice floated through the space between you.

“…Ah, I see. Thank you,” he said, bowing his head politely before taking a small step back.

The way he spoke—it was soft. Controlled. Like he’d said the same thing to several people already. You couldn’t hear what he’d asked, but the pattern was clear now that you were listening.

He was asking around.

You felt your stomach twist.

Rin was here.

In Tromsø.

Looking for you.

He moved to the next person, expression composed but weary. There were shadows under his eyes, even from where you stood. A tension in his jaw. His hands kept clenching inside his pockets like he wasn’t used to this—like he wasn’t used to not knowing where to find you.

And he looked like he hadn’t slept well in days.

Your heart kicked against your ribs, faster now, almost panicked. You hadn’t expected this. You didn’t plan for this.

What were you even going to say?

But then—he turned his head.

Slowly. Searching the street.

And then his eyes found you.

Your breath stopped.

You didn’t know what expression you wore, but whatever he saw on your face was enough.

Because Rin moved.

He started walking—fast, like he was afraid you might disappear if he looked away. Then he broke into a run, boots kicking up snow, scarf flying out behind him as he crossed the narrow road.

You couldn’t move.

You couldn’t breathe.

Until he reached you.

His arms wrapped around you without hesitation, pulling you into his chest like you were something precious he thought he’d lost. He held you with both arms around your waist, his gloved hands gripping your coat tightly, like if he loosened them even a little, you’d vanish again.

You hadn’t cried since arriving.

But something about the way his chin tucked over your shoulder, how he let out a shaky breath like he'd finally exhaled after holding it in for days—that undid you.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said, voice low and rough and uneven against your ear. “For two days.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you.

His eyes were glassy, rimmed with red from cold and exhaustion. His brows furrowed as he studied your face, like he couldn’t quite believe you were real.

“I didn’t know if you were actually here. I wasn’t sure if… if you even meant it,” he murmured. “I started thinking maybe I was stupid for trying. That maybe I’d misunderstood.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“I was already starting to lose hope,” he confessed, his voice softer now. “That maybe you weren’t in Tromsø at all. That maybe you picked somewhere else. Somewhere I couldn’t guess.”

He paused. His hands clenched at your sides again.

“But I still came. I still looked,” he said, voice steady now with something unshakable. “Because… you said it once. That if things ever got too heavy, you’d come here.”

A heartbeat passed. Then another.

“And I had to believe you.”

You swallowed. Your chest felt painfully full.

All this time… you didn’t know if he even cared. You didn’t know if your absence would be met with relief or indifference. You were bracing yourself for silence. For more cold.

But here he was.

Breathing hard. Shaking. Still holding you like it physically hurt him to let go.

He remembered.

And he came.

Not because anyone told him to. Not because he had to.

But because he wanted to.

Because it was you.

And just like that—

The tight knot in your chest began to loosen.

Your hand came up to his cheek, thumb gently brushing against the skin that was chilled from the northern wind. You didn’t even notice your breath catching until it came out as a shaky whisper.

"Rin… why are you here?"

He leaned into your touch like he had been starved of it—like this small gesture grounded him, reminded him that you were real and not some cruel trick of the cold.

“I came for you,” he said quietly. His voice didn’t waver, but his eyes—those storm-colored eyes that always guarded too much—were softer now, less composed. “Because I remembered.”

You didn’t move. Couldn’t. You were still standing on the cobbled path, the faint crunch of snow beneath your boots the only other sound besides the rush of your pulse in your ears. Tromsø had been your quiet escape, the place you once said you'd go if life ever got too heavy. A passing comment from long ago, half-laughed over in bed or under the sheets of a rainy afternoon. You never thought he’d hold on to it.

"I didn’t tell anyone," you murmured. “No one knew.”

“I know,” he said. “I figured you wouldn’t.” He looked around—at the rows of snow-covered rooftops, the quiet hills that framed the town like a secret. “But this place… I remembered how your eyes lit up when you talked about it. So I came here. Just hoping.”

Your chest tightened. You hated how well he knew you. You hated that even after all the tension, the silence, the weight of everything between you—he still knew how to find you. That he remembered where you’d go when you needed peace, even if it meant chasing you halfway across the world.

"I didn't think you'd actually—"

"I didn’t come to make you leave," he said, cutting through your doubt like a blade, his forehead leaning gently against yours. “I just needed to see you. To make sure you were okay. You don’t have to say anything. You don’t even have to forgive me yet. I just… I had to be here.”

The wind blew again, sharp but fleeting. Still, all you felt was him.

“Rin…” your voice cracked, just a little, and his arms tightened around your waist.

“If it’s space you need, I’ll give it. I’ll wait in whatever way you need me to,” he said, breathing in like he was memorizing the scent of your jacket, your skin, your quiet presence. “But I’m here. And I’m not letting you go again without knowing what you want.”

And just like that—his words unhurried, unpolished, but honest—your resolve, already thin and frayed, began to slip through your fingers like snow melting in your palm.

You ended up inviting him to the cabin where you were staying—half out of instinct, half out of something deeper that your heart hadn’t yet found the words for. It wasn’t much. Just a small wooden place tucked at the edge of a forest clearing, the kind that smelled of pine and silence and something safe. You had rented it without any intention of being found. Yet here he was—standing in the doorway, snow still caught on his lashes and his scarf damp from the wind.

He stepped in carefully, like he didn’t want to disturb whatever fragile peace you had built for yourself over the last few days. You didn’t speak much at first. He helped you take off your coat, set your gloves by the small heater near the door. The only sound in the cabin was the low crackle of the fire in the corner and the slow, nervous beat of your heart.

He sat across from you at the small dining table, elbows on the wood, hands clasped together like he needed something to hold onto.

“There’s something I should’ve told you sooner,” Rin said, finally breaking the silence. “That night. At the dinner.”

You looked at him, your expression unreadable.

“After you left,” he continued, eyes on yours, “I didn’t just sit there.”

He swallowed, jaw tight, as if replaying the memory still made his skin burn. “I told them off. My parents. My relatives. I told them they didn’t know a damn thing about you or what you’ve been through. That you’ve done more with your life—more good, more meaningful work—than any of them sitting around that table.”

Your breath caught, but you didn’t interrupt. He went on, voice lower now, more careful.

“I told them about your residency. How hard you’ve worked. The way you’d still show up to shifts even when you were dead on your feet. How you’d tell me stories about your patients like they were the brightest parts of your day. I told them you weren’t just my wife because our families wanted it—you’re someone I’ve always admired. Someone I’ve always cared about.”

The silence that followed was heavier than anything the snow outside could ever weigh down.

“I should’ve said it in front of you,” he admitted, voice cracking the smallest bit. “I should’ve defended you before you walked out. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

You stared at him—really stared. For the first time in a long while, his walls weren’t up. His apology wasn’t rehearsed. It was real. Raw. The kind of vulnerable honesty Rin rarely let anyone see.

You rose from your seat slowly, the soft rustle of fabric and the crackle of the fireplace filling the silence between you. Your eyes never left him.

Rin was seated at the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees, hands loosely clasped. His jaw was tight, shoulders tense, as if he were bracing for a storm you hadn’t started yet.

You approached him with quiet steps.

When you reached him, your fingers reached out for his—hesitating only briefly—before you threaded your hand into his. He didn’t pull away. If anything, he looked like he was holding his breath.

His gaze flickered up to you, vulnerable in a way you’d only seen a handful of times in your entire life. Like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to hope.

“Rin,” you said, voice low and steady. “What do you want to come out of this?”

He blinked slowly. Once. Twice. Then you felt his grip tighten around yours.

“I want…” he started, then faltered. “I want this to be more than just something we agreed to.”

You stared at him, heart climbing to your throat.

“I want you,” he said, firmer now. “I’ve always wanted you.”

The world seemed to quiet.

You barely managed to breathe. “What…?”

“I only agreed to this engagement if it would be with you,” Rin confessed, finally looking at you with eyes that burned straight through your disbelief. “That was my only condition. I told my parents—if it’s not her, I’m not doing it.”

You could feel your pulse in your ears.

“I didn’t know if you’d ever say yes to me if I asked on my own. Maybe because I’m not good with this—” he gestured vaguely between you, “—with feelings. With words. But even when we were kids, it was always you. Every year. Every time I saw you at those stupid events.”

Your heart stuttered. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not.” Rin’s voice was steady. “You were the only one who ever looked at me like I was more than Sae’s shadow. Like I was worth listening to. You’d tell me about your dreams, your stupid high school stories, your patients, your rounds… and I remembered everything. You made the world feel bigger, and for the first time, I wanted to be part of it.”

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move.

“I kept it all to myself because I didn’t want to mess it up. And then when our parents brought up the marriage, I told myself… maybe this was the only chance I had. Maybe it wasn’t perfect, but if it was you—” he looked up at you, earnest and exposed—“I’d take it.”

He let go of your hand for a moment, and your fingers instinctively reached to keep the warmth of his touch. But he was already moving.

Down.

Onto one knee.

Your breath caught in your throat.

“I wanted to do this right,” he murmured, reaching into the inner pocket of his coat. “Even if it came late.”

He opened a velvet box.

Inside was a ring with a pale pink diamond, delicately set in rose gold. The band was slim, elegant—simple in design, but breathtaking in execution. A custom cut. No gaudy flare, no excess—just quietly stunning. Just like everything Rin did when he cared.

“I had it made when I found out pink was your favorite,” he said, almost shy now. “Not because of the engagement. Because I thought maybe… one day, I’d get to ask you for real.”

Your hands flew to your mouth, lips trembling.

“Marry me, for real this time,” Rin whispered. “Not because they said we should. Not because it’s expected of us. But because you want to. Because I’ve always wanted you—and I’ll keep choosing you. Every time.”

Tears blurred your vision, spilling freely before you could stop them.

You fell to your knees in front of him, grabbing his face in your hands, shaking with disbelief and something deeper—years of silent longing finally catching up to you.

“You idiot,” you breathed, laughing through the tears. “You should’ve told me.”

“I’m telling you now.”

“And you think a pink diamond makes up for years of me thinking this was one-sided?” you teased, eyes wet.

He smirked, just a little. “It’s a start.”

You didn’t say yes.

You just kissed him—full, deep, and desperate like you were trying to make up for every day you had convinced yourself he didn’t feel the same. Like you were claiming him now.

And when you finally pulled back, forehead pressed to his, you whispered:

“Yes, Rin. For real this time.”

And in that quiet cabin, surrounded by snow and history and everything unspoken finally laid bare, Rin Itoshi smiled like he had everything he’d ever wanted.

Because he did. He had you.

And in that quiet cabin tucked beneath layers of snow, with logs crackling in the fireplace and the silence finally settling between confessions, Rin Itoshi smiled—not the kind of smile reserved for cameras or curated dinners, not the kind honed for politeness or worn like armor. This one was different. This one was unguarded and whole. It touched the corners of his eyes, curved his mouth in quiet reverence, and melted years of silence he didn’t realize he’d been carrying.

It was the smile of a man who, for the first time in a long while, felt like the weight of his world had finally found a place to rest.

Because in that moment, with your hand tucked safely in his, he had everything he’d ever needed. He had you.

There was no urgency to return to Tokyo. Rin stayed. Even when his agency called, even when his schedule threatened to snap back into its usual pace, he stayed. The world outside moved on, days bleeding into nights, but in Tromsø—between snowdrifts and coffee steam and the rustle of flannel sheets—time moved slower. Kinder.

He made you breakfast each morning, sometimes a little too burnt on the edges, sometimes just right. He kissed the sugar off your lips when you sweetened your coffee too much. He walked with you down the frozen paths, fingers laced in yours like he was afraid to let go. You shared memories like secrets under blankets at dawn, laughed in low murmurs, kissed in doorways, in the middle of cooking, while brushing your teeth. You held each other like you had all the time in the world. And maybe you did. Maybe time—this time—was finally on your side.

Rin never rushed. Never demanded. Never asked for more than what you could give. He simply stayed close, inching his way into the tender cracks of your heart until you forgot what it meant to be alone in love. Slowly, gently, he made you believe again—both in him, and in the life you could finally build without fear.

And Rin, in turn, began to free himself.

You noticed it in the way his phone calls grew shorter. His tone sharper. He started saying no—firmly, clearly. He turned down meetings without guilt, ignored messages that once would’ve sent him spiraling, and spoke less and less of the family that had always spoken for him. He didn’t rage or rebel. He simply… let go. Of expectations. Of appearances. Of people who didn’t see your worth or his. And in their place, he reached for something real. For you.

Then one night, the sky changed.

It was late—past midnight—and the world outside was quiet, blanketed in snow and silence. You were nestled together under a thick knit blanket when Rin nudged you gently, the air fogging in front of his mouth as he whispered, “Come outside.”

He didn’t say why, but his voice held something sacred, something childlike and awed. You slipped on coats and boots, fingers brushing as you stepped out into the night.

And above you—the heavens bloomed.

Green and violet streaks painted the sky, shifting like silk across the stars. It looked like magic. Like something out of a dream you forgot you had. The aurora shimmered, moved, danced across the canvas of the night like a prayer being answered.

Your breath caught, soft clouds puffing into the cold air.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, voice reverent.

Beside you, Rin didn’t look up.

His eyes stayed on you, unblinking, unwavering. The light from the aurora caught in your eyes, casting your skin in hues of emerald and lilac, making you look like something ethereal. Something made to be worshipped in silence.

“Yes,” he murmured, almost too soft to hear. “It is.”

You turned, a smile playing on your lips, but when you met his eyes—you knew.

He wasn’t talking about the lights.

Your breath hitched.

He didn’t look away. And in the middle of the snow and starlight, in the hush of the north, Rin Itoshi leaned forward—like the moment was too full, too sacred to speak through—and kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t performative. It wasn’t for anyone else.

It was just for you.

His lips found yours slowly, like he was memorizing the way you felt all over again. The cold air melted between your mouths, the warmth of him anchoring you even as the sky spun. It was a kiss that unraveled years of silence, a kiss that didn’t ask questions because it already knew the answer.

A kiss that promised he was here. Not because he had to. But because he wanted to.

You melted into him, hands tangled in the lapels of his coat, his arms wrapping around your waist. The aurora danced on, painting the snow with light, but the most beautiful thing in that moment wasn’t the sky—it was the boy who’d spent a lifetime chasing perfection finally choosing something messy, something soft, something real.

Choosing you.

And when he pulled back, his forehead resting gently against yours, he whispered—not to convince you, not even to convince himself, but simply because it was true—“I’m not going anywhere.”

In that sacred stillness beneath the stars, with snowflakes catching on your lashes and his breath mingling with yours, you finally believed him.

You believed every whispered word against the shell of your ear, every trembling syllable that carried years’ worth of emotions Rin never learned how to say until now. You believed it in the way his hand stayed wrapped around yours even as the cold numbed your fingers, in how his voice cracked when he said he never stopped looking—never stopped loving, in his own way.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t need to. Because the silence between you had never been empty—it had always been full of the things you never dared to say out loud. And now, the distance had crumbled into snowflakes between you.

When you both returned to Japan, not much had changed externally. The world kept spinning, your hospital still buzzed with chaos, Rin’s practices still ran long and grueling. Your lives didn’t magically transform overnight. But something had shifted. Everything was the same—but it felt softer now. Lighter.

He would still wait for you in the hospital parking lot, just like before. Except now, instead of sitting coldly in the driver's seat with a silent phone on the dashboard, he’d get out of the car the second he saw your white coat approaching through the night fog. And instead of you slipping in quietly after a long shift, he would meet you halfway, arms already open. He would pull you close into his chest, lifting your tired body slightly off the ground, and press a long, gentle kiss on your temple—or sometimes, directly on your lips, not caring who saw. “Missed you,” he’d murmur. “You look tired. Let me take you home.”

You teased him once—called him clingy, even—but all he did was hum and kiss your cheek again. “Don’t care,” he said. “I like being around you.”

At home, Rin became a lovesick fool. You’d catch him smiling—actually smiling—at the sight of your pink Crocs kicked off beside his neatly lined cleats by the genkan. It was such a small detail, yet it never failed to tug at something deep in his chest. Every time he came home from training, weary and sore, the moment he saw them, he knew: You came home to me.

There were nights he’d come back later than you, only to find you dozing on the couch, still in scrubs, medical textbook open on your lap and an empty mug of coffee nearby. He never woke you. He just sat beside you carefully, one arm around your shoulders, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered, “Mrs. Itoshi,” like a secret he never thought he could say out loud.

You blinked awake once after hearing it and laughed, hoarse from exhaustion. “You’re using that now?”

He looked at you with soft, sleepy eyes and said it again—this time with a small smile that only ever appeared when you were around. “Yeah. Gotta get used to it, don’t I?”

Planning the wedding became its own kind of comfort. It wasn’t a spectacle the way both your families had once envisioned it—this time, it was yours. Just the two of you. There were late-night Pinterest boards open on his iPad, your fingers twined with his as you discussed outdoor venues and minimalist themes. Rin always let you speak first, nodding at your ideas, occasionally chiming in with, “I think you’d look good in that,” or, “I want it to feel like us. Simple. Real.”

You'd share clips of wedding playlists while brushing your teeth together, dance barefoot in the kitchen while you cooked dinner, and giggle in bed about guest lists and seating arrangements. And even when you argued about flower colors or dessert choices, it was Rin who’d pull you into his arms and kiss your forehead. “As long as it ends with you walking down the aisle to me—I don’t care if we serve onigiri and water.”

You often ended your days curled on the couch, your head in his lap as you recounted your patient cases, the rare ones that left you in awe or the difficult ones that tugged at your heart. Rin listened—really listened—his fingers gently combing through your hair as he asked questions. “What ended up happening to the kid from the ER the other night?” “Was that rare infection what you thought it was?” He may not have understood everything medically, but he understood you, and that was enough.

Sometimes it was the other way around—Rin lying on your lap, scrolling through plays or stats while you reviewed case notes, highlighters in hand. He wouldn’t speak much, but he'd glance up at you every now and then with this completely smitten look, like he couldn’t quite believe you were real and his.

On weekends, when you had a day off together, he'd bring you breakfast in bed—badly cut strawberries and burnt toast sometimes, but you never complained. He tried. And that effort? That was Rin Itoshi’s way of screaming he loved you.

“I like seeing you like this,” he once said while you were in your pajamas, hair messily tied up, glasses on, bent over your laptop. “All soft. All mine.”

You chuckled, not even looking up. “I’ve always been yours, idiot.”

That night, he pulled you close as if vowing never to let go again. “Mrs. Itoshi,” he whispered again, lips against your bare shoulder.

“What is it, Rin?”

He kissed the skin just below your ear. “I’m so in love with you, it’s fucking embarrassing.”

You didn’t laugh. You didn’t tease. You just turned in his arms, kissed him back slowly, and whispered, “Me too.”

Because you were. And for once—it wasn’t out of duty, or pressure, or family expectation.

It was because you wanted to be his.

And this time, so did he.

Not because he had to—but because he wanted to.

© 2025 yukkiji ☾ creations by yukkiji — please do not repost, copy, or translate without permission.

[diasease]

thinking of changing my layout...

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Incredibly unserious

[diasease]

how jinu recruited the saja boys

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kpop demon hunters from the perspective of the fans is so fucking funny because what do you mean the biggest kpop girl group in korea is beefing with and wrote a devastating diss track about a brand new boy band that debuted like 4 weeks ago and only has one song out

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anyways i just love the way kpop demon hunters stayed true to its roots in korean/asian culture, especially around the core theme of community vs individualism

the fact that it's not a single chosen one but a group of three

the fact that the honmoon is not powered by the hunters themselves but by the energy and love of the fans

the fact that gwi-ma turns people into demons by promising that he is the only one who can help them when he is in fact reliant on his army of demons to collect souls for him

the fact that "your idol" is about surrendering yourself to a single higher power while "golden" is about soaring to new heights together

the fact that gwi-ma preys on people's individual insecurities and shame to get inside their heads while rumi, mira, and zoey set them free in the end by encouraging them to embrace their differences and reminding them that they're not alone

the fact that you can see the audience cheering individually and even pushing into each other to get closer to the stage during "your idol"

while they're linking arms and cheering together and hugging during "what it feels like"

i have not seen the live action lilo and stitch but it feels like that movie sits on the opposite end of the spectrum from kpop demon hunters as a case study for how to tell a story in way that is culturally authentic and still resonates with a broader audience

and i think given that the core theme of the movie is all about community over individualism, the ending, particularly as it relates to rumi and jinu's budding romance, is really the perfect culmination of that broader theme

rumi and jinu's connection has all the hallmarks of that all-encompassing, all-consuming, borderline co-dependent first love where you keep your relationship a secret and sneak out of the house to meet up and feel like the other person is the ONLY person who really gets you

i'm the only one who can understand you, i'm the only one who will love you is the kind of thing that sounds romantic when you're 16 until you get older and realize how toxic it actually is and i love that the movie counters that in "what it sounds like" with rumi realizing that she had that love and support all along from her girls, and later, from the fans who continue to cheer them on through their comeback

it's about connection and sisterhood and love and sharing your fears and lifting each other up and becoming stronger and better together

and as compelling as i found rumi/jinu and as much as i would like to see their relationship explored more in a sequel/series, i just really love that this movie, which is clearly targeted at young women, ends on the message that romantic love is not the end all be all, that friendship is just as important if not more so than a romantic partner, that single women can lead successful, fulfilling lives, that true happiness and freedom start from within

it's crazy that this message still seems revolutionary in 2025 but given the current state of the world, it feels more necessary than ever

[diasease]

You're strong 😏

[diasease]

rabid royals

{prince!itoshi rin x princess f!reader}

summary: despite being arranged to marry his older brother itoshi sae, rin can't keep ignoring the way he feels about you forever. your reciprocation of his affections only makes the tension thicken and fold in a way that couldn't be ignored, and chaos was only inevitable by the time sae realized what was going on between you and his little brother.

warnings: arranged marriage, angst (but we THUG IT OUTT), fem!reader, brief sae x reader, rin is basically a lovesick puppy no one make fun of him, infidelity, cursing, & if you've read the prologue for this, it appears again as a flashback!

word count: 11.2k (asjadkj this took me wayy longer than expected !!)

Rin had been in his older brother's shadow for as long as he could remember. He was always one step behind, always lacking in some sense, always coming close, but never close enough. Ever since they were little kids, Rin had always borne the label of second best like a bad costume he couldn't take off.

Sae's always been destined for greatness, Rin was sure of it. Not only did his older brother possess an unbeatable mindset for himself and the Itoshi name, one he'd polished and carved expertly for the world to see, but Sae had the talent and skills to back up every ambition he wished to pursue. No matter how impossible a task or business deal seemed—if Sae was the one at the center of the ordeal, it was sure to go his way no matter how the situation fared before he entered the picture.

Despite it all, it was the small bits and pieces of him, the aspects of a person that made them human, which Sae lacked considerably.

A good husband, even just a decent one, would go and make sure you're okay. The words lie heavy on the curve of Rin's tongue, but he swallows them down the moment Sae's sharp gaze cuts to his.

"Rin, go check on her, will you?"

A wordless nod from his younger brother is all he gets in return, and Rin leaves Sae's room right after to go look for you.

Five doors down from his own room and three rooms down from his brother's was where you resided. It was decided that once the wedding was over, you would move into Sae's room with him. Rin knocks once on your door, waiting for your usual gentle voice to call him inside. He stands outside patiently, but after a near minute passes with no response, he knocks again, thinking you didn't hear him the first time.

"Y/n?"

Rin's hesitant call of your name is met with silence once more. His hand finds the doorknob, and he frowns once he realizes the door is unlocked. With a single, fluid motion, he twists it open and steps inside, only to be met with your empty bedroom.

His gaze sweeps over everything in front of him—the crumpled sheets and comforter of your bed, the little trinkets and gifts from your homeland littering your dressers, the assortment of necklaces laid out on the floor, and the empty spot beside the door where your outdoor boots usually resided.

Ah. So that's where you were.

A crease forms between Rin's brows when he realizes your hat is still hanging from your bedpost, and he grabs it without a second thought before he exits your room and closes the door behind him, heading straight towards the manor's gardens outside.

You didn't take very good care of yourself. You were still young—clumsy in getting adjusted to the new world you found yourself thrown into, and Rin can't even fault you for it. Who he's wished to reprimand many times is Sae, who doesn't seem to care about your well-being in the slightest. It was beyond frustrating to see Sae take no interest in the woman who would bear his children and take on the Itoshi name, but Rin's not sure what he expected from someone as emotionless as Sae. He'd imagined the one exception to Sae's coldness would be his own wife, but it seemed even you weren't spared.

Rin used to understand his brother better than anyone. They'd always come to each other when things got tough, and to Rin, it felt like he could face the whole world and win if Sae was by his side. But in the past few years, in which his nii-chan had gotten further and further into the political world outside the walls Rin was raised in, was when they finally began to drift apart. Rin simply didn't understand Sae's logic anymore. His principles and basis on seemingly everything had been flipped like a switch. Before, when they were children, Sae would spend every minute of his day with Rin, doing tasks for their parents together and spending time just being brothers. Now, the elder brushes off any attempt Rin makes to spend time with him, labeling it as a waste.

If Sae wasn't able to take good care of you, thanks to his persistent tendency to be isolated all the time, couldn't he have asked Rin to marry you instead? The marriage between you and Sae was purely political, so did it really matter which brother you married? At the end of the day, it was a union between kingdoms, not people. The bitter thought that he'd make a better husband himself is one Rin pushes down almost instantly in silent shame.

Stupidly enough, Rin had fallen for you. The sight of your smile and the echo of your laughter were the things to make his heart stutter—the things that allowed him to feel what love was like. But Rin believed his only option was to reject his heart, because to go after you was to wage war on his own brother.

Rin's fingers dig deep into the soft material of your hat as he approaches the glass doors leading outside. He takes a quick glance at his reflection in the manor's hallway mirror, blowing a stray strand of hair out of his way, before opening the door that led outside.

The chill that hit his face was unexpected as it was biting. Every gust of wind carried traces of snow, and they curled around Rin slowly, gliding through the air leisurely and wrapping him in a cold embrace.

You're a little ways down the main pathway parting the middle of the garden. Rin ducks back inside the manor and grabs a shawl hanging from one of the closet's hooks before leaving the manor and tightening his own coat around him.

"Y/n," he calls out gravely, and when you turn around, whatever thought was forming in Rin's mind is forgotten within an instant when your eyes meet his. He tightens his grip on the shawl and your hat, suddenly feeling himself get warm despite the cold that surrounded him.

Your cheeks are tinted a rosy red, and there are dozens of snowflakes hanging from the strands of your hair like it was the most natural place in the world for them to be. Plump lips are parted in surprise at his sudden appearance, and there are puffs of cold fog slipping past your lips as you wait for Rin to gather his thoughts.

"It's... It's cold. You should wear this." He murmurs, holding out the hat and shawl for you as he avoids your gaze. Rin can't stop himself from imagining the way your eyes must be widening in surprise, or the way your mouth must be forming that 'o' shape you make whenever you're particularly bewildered, and he can't stop himself from turning anyway to look at you, because when was the last time he's gotten to be this close to you without Sae or anyone else in his vicinity?

"Oh—sorry, sorry! I promise it wasn't snowing when I first came out to walk. I must have been too deep in thought to notice when it first began to fall," you assure with an embarrassed smile. Rin doesn't respond, his lips merely settle into a firm line before he raises the shawl in his hands and wraps it around your shoulders, twisting the fabric and pulling it close to ensure no cold seeps through.

"You need to be more careful, you'll get sick." He mumbles, lips twitching downwards into his usual frown before he digs his fists into the pockets of his coat, blowing another stray strand of hair from his face as you look down at the shawl he put around you with a gentle smile.

"I promise to remember next time, Rin. Thank you."

Rin huffs quietly in response with a short nod. Your eyes are drawn to one of the stray snowflakes that had fallen right over the gentle curve of his cheekbone, and you have to resist the urge to brush it off of him.

"Good," is all he says afterwards, his eyes flitting towards you hesitantly before they instantly dart away. In his mind, Rin blamed his horribly obvious and skittish movements on the cold before straightening his back and quietly bidding you goodnight.

Normally, Rin's steps were short and confident—never slow and always with a destination in mind. But as Rin turned away from you, his steps seemed to falter, like he wanted to say something more, but he ended up not saying anything else and walked back to the manor instead. Your eyes stay trained on his back as you nudge your nose against the comforting yarn of your scarf.

Your gaze doesn't leave Rin until he disappears inside. You lick your snow-coated lips to ease some of the tension you felt thrumming through you before turning back to the garden's pathway.

Rin looked breathtaking in the snow. His pale skin blended into the winter wonderland outside the Itoshi manor seamlessly, and his chiseled green gaze only seemed sharper in the moonlight. You noticed the way the snow seemed to swirl around him, too. You wouldn't be surprised if it was Aphrodite herself swirling a finger around Rin's figure and sending the snowflakes in a spiral that revolved around him and him only. Rin was just that beautiful.

Since the Itoshi manor was located up North, the land was in a perpetual state of winter, which also meant the garden they had outside had plants and flowers made for the everlasting cold; it was an environment they could thrive in. You admire the snow-coated petals of the flowers and how, despite the harsh conditions around them that would've already killed any regular flora, they stood tall, petals resilient and flourishing despite all odds.

The wedding was set to take place three weeks after you'd moved into the manor. It's been about a week since you've arrived, and the past few days have been filled with you visiting all sorts of people—the head chef, dressmakers, florists, and even the royal jeweler—to help prepare for the big day.

Sae wasn't there for any of it.

Frankly, you weren't too upset by it. He was busy beyond belief with securing the last details of his arrangement with your home nation. Marrying you was only a portion of the alliance, as there were still a dozen other things he had to review and arrange. Sae didn't have time to waste on something as trivial as choosing what color flower assortments each table should have as a centerpiece.

You tried to tell yourself it didn't matter—you shouldn't be this bothered. The servants were exceptionally kind to you, and you had even taken quite a liking to your personal handmaid (she was an older woman with a gentle soul, always sneaking you pastries and sweets from the kitchen to snack on just because she could), and Mr. and Mrs. Itoshi liked you well enough. Truthfully, you were being taken care of like a princess by everyone. Especially Rin, who sought you out every day with the simple intention of wanting to be near you. Sometimes, he wouldn't even make his appearance known to you; he lingered nearby, quietly and hopefully, just in case you wanted company.

But it was during the night, when you went to bed alone in a bedroom that felt too big for just one person, when you truly began to realize how lonely you felt.

Marrying someone made them your person. If Sae wasn't interested in forming any real relationship with you, then, well, you wouldn't have someone to call your own.

The thought of being alone frightens you more than anything else.

You couldn't really be alone with Rin around. Not when he doted on you every day, silently but steadily. But how long would that go on for? How long was it until he got married? The prospect of Rin marrying someone else sends a sharp pain straight through your chest, one that causes you to physically recoil and flinch before you shove your face back into your pillows with a groan.

No, seeing someone else marry Rin was something you never wanted to happen.

The night passes by in a blur, and so does the next morning. Eventually, you're heading towards the kitchen with the head chef—laughing softly at an old story she's telling you about the Itoshi brothers.

"They used to be very picky eaters—the oldest sir especially. When he was eleven, he sent his younger brother's birthday cake back to the kitchen because the frosting was vanilla, apparently not to his liking at all."

You have to stifle your laughter as you try and imagine an eleven-year-old Sae Itoshi getting upset over Rin's birthday cake not being the right flavor. Your lips twitch downwards as you think about how much their relationship has changed over the years—actually, you're not sure if you've even seen the two exchange any sort of pleasantries with each other. Not even once.

"Now, dear, I'll leave you to the cake taste testing—just call me in when you're all done. The spoons and napkins are laid out for you, so please enjoy what the bakers made. If you have any complaints, feel free to let me know at the end so I can pass on your message!"

You send her a tight-lipped smile, nodding your head and trying to hide your disappointment at being left alone once again.

"The sir is inside to help as well. Good luck!" She bows before her departure, and you still at her words.

Sir?

Sae had left early this morning to travel to a nearby city for a day trip of sorts, so that meant...

When you open the kitchen doors, Rin is sitting on a stool, staring intently at the assortment of cake slices placed on the table in front of him, and his head raises when he hears the door open a moment later.

It clicks closed behind you, and you stare at him wordlessly. For a moment, Rin thinks he may have crossed a line by asking the chef to assist you today with the cake testing after hearing you were doing it alone, but then your lips stretch into a smile so bright it makes something in his chest ache.

"Rin! You're here!"

You shuffle over to where he is, and Rin blinks rapidly as you drop yourself into the seat beside him. You're wearing a cozy sweater and plaid skirt to match, both a deep brown that complement you stunningly. Your hair is pulled back with a matching bow, and although this outfit is much simpler than what you usually wear, Rin is aching to let you know how pretty you look.

He has a feeling no one else has told you today.

"Hello," he murmurs, and the tips of his ears turn pink from the subtle scent of your shampoo, which is intoxicatingly sweet. Rin watches you get settled silently, grateful you seem happy to see him. Mindlessly, your finger reaches out to swipe at the frosting of one of the cakes, and you lick it with anticipation before your eyes shine with satisfaction.

"Yummy! So, you'll be helping me out today?" You grin, and Rin huffs, crossing his arms over his sweater. You note that his hair looks fluffier in the warm golden light of the kitchen, and his demeanor seems to soften at the sight of your smile.

"Yeah... Nii-chan is busy, like always, so I... I just don't want you to be alone."

You pause at his words, and his honesty cuts a little closer to your heart than you want to admit. You let your hands fall in your lap, taking a moment to let his confession sink in.

He doesn't want you to be alone.

"...thank you."

Rin's eyes widen a fraction when you scoot your stool closer to his, but his attention is quickly redirected when you pull a plate towards the two of you to begin—the air is tinged with the sweet smell of sugar and fruit, the atmosphere is domestic and calm, and Rin finds himself melting into the moment.

The next hour is filled with the two of you trying a variety of cakes. There were nearly thirty plates on the surface of the table, all spongy soft, decorated with heaps of creamy frosting, and layered expertly.

Rin wants nothing but to be good company for you, but he's not quite sure how to. He grew up with only one person close in age to him, and that was Sae. He didn't have any friends, only his nii-chan. But as they got older, the rift between them grew until it was an ocean—one Rin was sure to drown in if he ever tried to cross it. Losing his brother like that made Rin's heart retreat, and he's never made a connection with someone after Sae. He knows he doesn't talk much, and he's not as interesting as his brother, but...

"Rin, you're spacing out again!"

He's snapped out of his trance when you call his name, turning to see you laughing as you hold a spoonful of cake to his lips. Rin blinks owlishly before mumbling a sheepish apology under his breath and scooting closer to you.

"You want me to try this one?" He questions with a raised brow, and you nod enthusiastically.

"This one is really good! The cake is so tender, like a cloud on my tongue, and the chocolate is super rich. But, if you ask me, these strawberry wedges in the frosting are the best part." You grin, and Rin makes an attempt to smile in return—it's wobbly and unsure, but it feels right to smile at you.

He parts his lips for you, and you feed the bite to him. The realization that your mouth had been on the very same spoon makes him clamp down on the spoon in embarrassment, but then his taste buds get a feel of the cake, and his eyes widen a bit.

"Oh... this is really good."

"I know!"

After that, you feed him every bite right after your own. The sheer variety of cakes is what surprised you the most—there was dark chocolate, coconut cream, peppermint, honey lavender, and toasted coconut—all made with love and dedication. All made for you. Your chest feels warm and light at the thought.

Finally, there was one slice of cake left untouched. Tucking a leg under you, you reach across the table to grab it, pulling it towards you and Rin .

"This one is called Blackberry Elderflower," you comment, taking the label off the plate as Rin's brows furrow in thought.

"It looks okay, but I'm not sure if it can beat our first-place cake." Rin says firmly, and you can't help but laugh at the accusatory glare he offers the slice of cake in front of you.

"It was delicious! It had the perfect balance of sweetness, and those strawberries were heaven-sent, I'm sure of it." You grin, and Rin grunts in response, nodding his head.

Rin is the one to reach for the spoon this time. He carefully slices into the cake before bringing the bite to your mouth, hovering it over your lips before speaking.

"Remember, this is the last flavor. Savor the taste and consider it carefully—what we think about this one decides the final cake." Rin says, and when you nod with parted lips, he places the bite in your mouth and watches you carefully.

"Hmm. Alright, your turn."

You take the spoon gently from his grasp and dig it into the cake. Despite being perfectly capable of feeding himself each bite, Rin made no move to stop you.

His tongue darts out in anticipation, and he chews slowly once it's in his mouth. You try and fight back your smile as you watch his eyes suddenly widen, almost comically so. Rin's lips twist into a scowl as he's left completely appalled that another flavor actually managed to beat the chocolate cake you two were initially infatuated with.

"This is delicious." he mumbles in defeat.

"Uh huh! This is the one."

You're smiling again, picking up the cake's label and flipping it over to read the list of ingredients neatly printed on the back. Your legs swing back and forth on the stool you're sitting on, and Rin takes a moment to look at you. Really look at you. He only has to blink once before coming to his undoubtable conclusion.

Sae is really stupid sometimes.

If it was Rin marrying you instead—good gods, he'd abandon everything for you. He would take such good care of you; he knew he would. Truthfully, he was ready to bend his own body backwards and break every bone he possessed if it meant he'd get to see you smile. It took his breath away every time—because your smile gave him hope like no other.

Your cheeks are round and full with cake, and you let out a pleased hum as you swallow. Rin can't tear his gaze away from you—you're so close and just... there. It's impossible for him to do anything else but admire you. You're sitting close, close enough where if he shifts, his knee would bump against yours under the table.

You turn to look at Rin, and he's already looking at you.

His gaze is sharp, intense in a way that you haven't seen before. Not since...

He murmurs your name quietly, almost ashamed of himself, almost, and your heart leaps to your throat in an instant when his hands twitch in his lap, reaching for your face.

His fingers are soft and hesitant as they brush against your jaw silently in question. When you make no move of protest, stilling and watching him with round eyes instead, his index finger nudges your jaw towards him before he cups your cheek so tenderly that you nearly shiver.

"Rin..." you whisper, and he only tugs you closer. Rin's eyes are filled with a desperation you haven't seen before—a hunger that hasn't been satiated in too long, and he's trying to stop himself from moving any further. His other hand grips the kitchen counter as if he's physically trying to ground himself.

His hold on you softens, and he's close enough to where his nose is just about to bump against your own. Rin swallows the lump in his throat and stares at you silently with his mind screaming at him, because he has never wanted something in his life before so badly.

"What are you doing?"

Sae's voice cuts through the air like a knife, and Rin lets go of you in an instant, reeling back like he'd been physically struck at the sound of his older brother's voice.

Sae stands in the doorway, one hand still perched on the door he'd just opened and his gaze trapped on the two of you. He squints, eyes narrowing and lips settling into a thin line before Rin suddenly moves away from you. His chair drags loudly against the floor as he does, and he looks upset.

If Rin's mad, you're not sure if it's at himself for letting it get this far or if it's at his brother for interrupting. Again.

Rin's murmuring under his breath about how there's somewhere he needs to be, pushing past Sae before he has a chance to even say anything, and moving straight for the exit. He's barely a blur of green before he's gone within seconds, leaving you and Sae alone in deafening silence.

Sae is still in his uniform. It's pressed as pristinely as usual, with his shimmering silver sword hanging low on his hip. He regards you silently before speaking up.

"Did you two decide on a flavor?"

If Sae's angry, he does a remarkable job at hiding it. His voice is just as even and calm as it always is, but there is something terrifying simmering in his gaze—something as hot as molten lava, and it's threatening to boil over. Your lips part, but when nothing comes out, you have to take a moment to collect yourself.

"Yes, but I... I'm sorry, I didn't—we were just—"

"Don't worry. Rin will get over his little crush on you soon enough."

Now you were stupefied. You stare at him, rendered speechless, and he stares back in silence. Sae makes a mental note of how you kind of look like Rin when he's about to cry—his brother would make the same face when they were younger. Parted lips, wide, glossy eyes—and since the one thing Sae absolutely cannot stand is crying, he sighs through his nose and looks away.

"Come with me."

He beckons you over with two fingers, and you practically scramble out of your seat to follow him. He's halfway down the hall when you're out the kitchen door—and you have to walk as quickly as you can to catch up. Keeping your head low, you don't say anything.

Sae stops short in front of his bedroom door, fishing out a small golden key from the breast pocket of his uniform before inserting it into the doorknob and opening the door. He holds it open for you, and you walk in silently, stiff as a board.

There were no personal touches in Sae's room. It's large, larger than your own room—and it feels even emptier, too. It was also spotless, but you expected nothing less of him. The moment Sae grabs your hand is sudden and you have no time to react before he places the key in the palm of your hand.

"This is the key to the master bedroom you and I will share. You can come here anytime before the wedding to move in all your stuff. I'm rarely ever home, so there's no need to worry about me getting in your way or anything like that."

His tone is clipped and sharp, leaving no room for negotiation. You nod your head slowly, turning the key over in the palm of your hand as you observe it. Sae walks over to his dresser, opening one of the drawers and pulling out a small, velvet box—he opens it a moment later before handing it over.

"This is for you."

You open it, and inside is the most beautiful ring you have ever seen. It has a thin golden band with an elegantly cut emerald gem resting on the hilt, one that glimmers spectacularly in the dim light.

"It should be to your liking. I had my royal advisor pick out the best one he could find." Sae hums, watching you carefully as you slip it onto your finger. The band alone must have cost a fortune; forget the gem—you can feel the sheer quality of it by touch alone.

"Thank you."

Your voice is a little breathless, your eyes weary, and your head bowed. Sae looks back towards his desk, where a number of scattered documents resided on top.

"Don't thank me. I didn't do anything."

Then again, with the riches Sae had, this ring probably meant nothing to him.

"All right, you can leave now."

Sae's back is turned towards you a moment later, and he busies himself with the documents on his desk. The way he doesn't spare you even a glance more lets you know just how important Sae found you in the moment. You stand there for a moment, swallowing the lump in your throat and holding the small velvet box close to your chest.

He hears you shift behind him as you start heading towards the door. Your brows are bunched together, and a plethora of emotions explode in your chest. You're confused with his reaction to you and Rin's proximity, angry at his constant avoidance, and just... sad.

You take your leave quietly, but Sae's voice, softer than you've ever heard before, catches you on the way out.

"Good night."

You don't have the strength to respond without your voice breaking, so you close the door quietly instead.

Maybe you should feel more remorse for feeling nothing for Sae and everything for his brother. But you yearned for Rin. Quietly, passionately, and undoubtably.

Sae didn't understand the way either of you felt—he thought Rin's feelings for you were some form of a minor crush, but you knew it wasn't as simple as that. It never had been.

Sae may not have known it, but he didn't stand a chance with you since the night you first met Rin.

flashback ⋆˙⟡

You had arrived at their family's magnificent manor in a simple satin gown, a bowed head, and a broken heart.

Initially, you had no idea what the Itoshis looked like, didn't even know their names, and spent most of the evening indulging in mindless chatter and eating small pastries instead of getting to know your betrothed. It seems like he wasn't interested in marrying you either, since he never bothered to come down and introduce himself.

No one stayed with you, mingling throughout the party and getting drunk on different sparkling drinks instead, and you found yourself gliding down the long halls of the Itoshi manor like a ghost. You walked with no destination in mind until you heard the gentle melody of someone playing the piano. Magically, at that.

The angelic sound seemed like a safe haven for you in the perpetually dark night, and you followed the music with tentative steps.

Soon, you found yourself in front of a tall, oak door and bowed your head through the frame to peer inside. A strand of hair fell in front of your eyes, and you pushed it away before your gaze fell onto the boy playing the piano inside. You couldn't see his face, only his back faced you. Pale, slender fingers play the instrument in front of him like it was his destiny, and after all the rage and heartbreak you felt throughout the day leading up to that night—a rare serenity of calm filled the empty hollowness in your chest, warming you entirely.

The boy looks to be about your age, and he remained entirely entranced by the piano in front of him as the pads of his fingertips danced—you watched his skilled fingers perform stunningly for no one at all. Well, besides you—but Rin didn't know you had been watching him. Not until he heard you sit on the piano stool beside him, smiling shyly with eyes twinkling in the dim moonlight that spilled through the glass panes.

His heart skipped a traitorous beat when you asked him to teach you how to play. His lips parted, as if you'd rendered him speechless. And you had.

"I... who are you?"

"No one important. Tell me, what's your name?" You questioned softly, curious eyes peering up at Rin with a shine he'd never once seen before. He tells you his name and asks you for yours in return before repeating it to himself quietly.

Rin didn't tell you how he forbade everyone, even his own family, from entering his music room. He merely slid a few inches over to give you more room and explained the history of how the piano came to be before placing his palm and fingers over yours.

Rin taught you a simple tune he came up with on the spot that night. It only spanned a few keys and held a slow tempo so you could follow along easily, but it was inspired entirely by the feeling he felt in his chest the moment he saw you smile at him.

He held his breath as he watched you play on your own only an hour later, a rare smile gracing his features. There was something about the way you treated his piano, careful fingers pressing down on the keys like they were glass—like they were alive and you were afraid to hurt them—before the tension eased and ebbed out of your form with time.

You'd arrived at the ball at six and spent a little under an hour at the actual event. You had spent the rest of the night with Rin's hands splayed over yours.

Sae was late to his own party for no reason in particular, arriving in a pristine suit and his bright pink hair gelled and styled for the occasion. To say he was intrigued to learn you'd been missing for the majority of the party from your mother and father's panicked expression was an understatement.

The first ten minutes with you gone? Sure, it made sense. You could have been in the bathroom or in line to get some sort of refreshment. After thirty minutes, he decided maybe you're out getting fresh air on the manor's balcony, or perhaps you're strolling through the gardens and giving the forgotten flowers outside some much needed attention. But once your time being missing hit the hour mark, his mother approached him and told Sae to go get his brother, who also hadn't come down in a while.

Sae knocked on Rin's music room door twice, tapping his foot impatiently outside as he thought about your whereabouts. Perhaps you did go to the manor's balcony for some fresh air, but maybe you fell off the twenty-foot railing and were lying dead somewhere. For some reason, the thought doesn't seem to stir much of anything in his chest.

He realized he'd been waiting outside the door for far too long and twisted the doorknob with an impatience he didn't usually allow himself to feel.

It took Sae a moment to understand the sight in front of him. Rin, smiling softly with his hand over yours, and you—hair pinned back to reveal lovely eyes and painted lips stretched into a smile so magnificent that Sae actually had to blink in order to confirm the graceful sight was indeed real.

And then it just clicked. Neither of you saw him, neither of you recognized the true identity of each other, so he took a step inside. The tension in the air shifted, and finally, you noticed him.

"Rin, just what do you think you're doing with my wife?"

When it came to avoiding people he didn't want to talk to, Rin had the qualifications of a professional. His lean frame allowed him to push through crowds of people easily without making a disturbance, and he was sneaky—taking advantage of all the spots he used as a kid when playing hide-and-seek with his brother to seemingly vanish into thin air whenever you got too close.

It wasn't that Rin wanted to avoid you; no, that wasn't it at all. He was just sure that he wouldn't be able to hold himself back if he saw you again. It didn't make sense how someone like you could end up with someone like Sae—it was absurd and horribly unfitting.

He's been doing his best to fill his time with things that don't remind him of you, but it's difficult. Dueling with the guards isn't helpful because he finds himself getting distracted and tripping over his own feet when he gets a glimpse of you passing by in one of the manor's windows above, sitting in on Sae's meetings is far too boring for him, and all the servants in the manor were busy preparing for the wedding—everywhere he turned, he was surrounded by the mere mention of your name, and it was maddening.

Accepting the fact that he can't not think about you, Rin makes the decision to expand the song he taught you the first night you two met.

He'd spent the majority of his day in his music room, playing and scribbling down every note on his sheet as the song progressed and grew into something beautiful—he was spinning the little melody he taught you that day into a full number that was playable, and he imagined himself performing it for you one day.

Maybe you'd lean your head on his shoulder while he played, or maybe you'd ask him to teach you the song—both possibilities are enticing, and Rin can't help but wish they were true.

There's something wrong with him. He shouldn't be thinking of playing the piano for you—he shouldn't be thinking of you at all. But there's no point in even attempting to stop himself, you'll intrude on his thoughts whether he likes it or not.

"You're so stupid," Rin mumbles to himself, pulling the piano cover down and resting his cheek against the cool surface with a sigh. The song was done now, he'd played it over more times than he could count and until his fingers ached—but it was ready.

He uses his pen to write your name in the title spot at the top of the sheet, and after looking around to absolutely ensure his brother wasn't hiding somewhere in the shadows, Rin draws a small heart right beside your name.

It's as if every time Rin does anything regarding you, Sae emerges from the depths of hell itself to find him, and the sharp bangs that sound against Rin's door a second later seem to confirm his suspicions.

"Rin! Shit, get out of there now, we have a big fucking problem—"

Rin stuffs the sheet in his music folder in an instant, kicking back his feet and getting off the piano stool within another second before swinging open the music room's door.

Sae is standing on the other side, and Rin can immediately tell something is wrong. The bags under his brother's eyes are heavier and more prominent than usual, and his hair is a bit of a mess, seemingly because of how much he'd been running his hands through the pink strands.

Rin has never seen his brother look like this. Sae was the calm one, the one more composed than everyone else in the room, and the one who had absolute control. But now, seeing his brother's clenched jaw, the frenzied look in his eyes, and the incoherent words he mutters under his breath as he drags Rin by the elbow and back into the music room has him dumbstruck.

"Nii-chan, stop. What the hell happened?" Rin hisses, tugging his arm out of Sae's grasp as the latter slams the door shut behind him. Sae knows how much Rin despises having other people in his music room, so the fact that he disregards that fact entirely and barges in anyway lets Rin know his brother isn't in the right state of mind.

"The wedding's off—I made a big fucking mistake. Her parents are going to demand she go back home, there's no doubt. And when that happens, we're going to lose our biggest trading partner yet. I don't know what—"

"Off? What the hell are you talking about? What did you do?" Rin snaps, watching Sae's fists coil harder—and before his brother can punch something out of rage—Rin stands in front of him and grabs hold of his shoulders.

"You need to tell me what you did. How am I supposed to help if you won't tell me what's going on?" Rin questions, and Sae pushes his brother off roughly, looking away in anger. His brows are pinched together, and it takes him a moment to get the words out, but they're as clear as day once they leave his lips.

"I got another woman pregnant."

Rin stills, and for the first time in his entire life, he sees the heat of regret in his older brother's gaze.

"I don't even know who it was. Whoever it is—she left the baby on the goddamn doorstep of the manor and fled. There's only some shitty note left behind telling me to deal with it. Shit, I'll find that woman and kill her if I have to. Who the hell does that?" Sae murmurs, more to himself than to Rin, as he sits down on his piano stool with an exhausted sigh.

"Who's going to raise it? The servants can't, it needs an actual mother of royal lineage—all the women I had relations with were lower class, never noblewomen—it will be virtually impossible to find a new wife that would accept a boy who isn't a hundred percent royalty, not when we're about to lose our biggest trading partner yet. I have my month-long trip to Spain two days after the wedding is supposed to happen—I can't miss that either, it's too important." Sae sighs, and Rin stares at his brother, speechless.

"You don't know who the mother of this child is?" is all Rin can manage to say as Sae shakes his head no.

Wordlessly, Rin sits beside Sae on the piano stool. He stares hard at the ground, and Sae sits beside him with his head in his hands. He was obviously stressed out, but Rin has nothing to say. This was his older brother's fault—and he had messed up badly.

Unbeknownst to them, on the other half of the manor, you're peering into the small bundle lying in one of the servant's arms—you can already tell what's going on. The baby has a full head of unmistakable pink hair, and everyone around you is panicking.

"Can I hold it?"

She looks up at you suddenly with wide eyes, smiling hesitantly while using her free hand to pat your shoulder comfortingly.

"Of course, dear. Are you feeling alright with all this?" The woman questions softly, and while her touch is gentle, her eyes are concerned. You shrug wordlessly, smiling at the baby in her arms.

"I'm not sure what to feel right now. But this baby didn't do anything wrong, so I'd like to hold it. Though I can't tell if it's a boy or a girl. Do you know which it is?"

"It's a boy." She says softly, lowering the baby into your arms as you hum.

He looks just like Sae. With delicate pale skin, tiny green eyes, and a little frown tugging down his lips—you know in your heart that this was his son.

You don't know what's going to happen now—you were never given a choice with this wedding, but you know there was no world where your parents would have you marry Sae knowing he had been seeing other women casually enough to produce a baby.

For now, you simply snuggle the little bundle closer to your chest with a quiet sigh, pressing your body further into the cushions of the couch as the sound of chaos around you turns to static.

It's been nearly a week since the surprising arrival of the Itoshi heir, and the day of the wedding was only getting closer. Unfortunately, it seemed like the entire manor was buzzing with panic and stress.

Mr. and Mrs. Itoshi have already formally apologized to you, but you had yet to see Sae. There was no time to inform your family back at home about the news, because by the time they received the letter that the wedding needed to be called off, they would already be here at the manor for the wedding. There was absolutely nothing that could be done to stop them in time.

Right now, you're rocking the baby boy back and forth in your arms, humming quietly and yawning to yourself, wondering what Rin must be up to.

There was a chance he'd attend the emergency council meeting scheduled for tonight after dinner to figure out what to do with the baby and you—you'll have to finally face Sae, but you're almost... relieved you don't have to marry him. Yes, of course the entire situation was disastrous—but while everyone around you seemed to be spiraling because of the news, you found yourself able to catch your breath for once.

"How can such a cute baby cause so much chaos..." you mumble to yourself as his nimble little fingers play with one of your bracelets. You wondered when he'd get a proper name and who would take care of him when you ended up leaving—the reminder that you had to go also reminded you that you'd have to leave Rin behind, too.

Rin. You'd remember him forever.

You arrive to the meeting early, since you didn't have much else to do after lulling the baby to sleep. The meeting room in the Itoshi manor is lavish and large, designed with high ceilings and glass panes that shimmered in the sunlight. There are about fifteen chairs lining both sides of the long table, each cushioned and empty. Well, besides Sae's seat, where at least a dozen envelopes and a hundred documents were laid out in front of him. He hasn't noticed you yet, too busy with the mountain of work in front of him, but when you place the ring box he'd given you in front of him, he looks up.

"It's okay," you start before he can say anything, and you watch his body stiffen at your words before he sighs. He rubs a tired hand across his forehead before speaking.

"I stopped when I knew you and I were arranged to get married. I just didn't think..." he trails off, and you can hear the bitter resentment in his voice.

"It's okay." You say more firmly this time, before awkwardly patting his shoulder in an attempt to soothe him. Sae looks up and watches you with narrowed eyes, silently questioning if you were some sort of a saint. He half expected you to slap him, yell at him, something, but you just stood there in front of him, quiet and in deep thought.

"I don't know what will happen," you start, and he raises his eyes to meet your gaze as you continue.

"—but I know you're under a lot of stress. You work very hard; I've only ever seen you working since I've arrived, so I hope your council finds a solution that works for us both." You conclude, and as the others begin to enter the meeting room, you don't wait to hear Sae's response before you move to take your seat.

The royal council members are the first to arrive in a hurry. They're discussing a number of things as they find their seats and immediately recapture Sae's attention, swarming him. A few relatives enter the room with Mr. and Mrs. Itoshi before Rin finally makes an appearance.

He seems a bit overwhelmed by all the noise and people clamoring into one room, and your heart rate quickens at the sight of him. Rin looks even more handsome than usual, sporting a dark sweater that complemented his hair and a simple pair of pants to match. You can see his gaze sweeping over the room before it lands on you, and his back straightens once he sees you.

Maybe Rin sees the silent plea in your eyes, the need to not be alone, because his feet shift towards your direction before he moves and takes the empty seat right next to you. He doesn't say hello, and neither do you—but having Rin next to you is more comfort than you could have hoped for in a time like this.

You try your best not to look at him, but your body betrays you, and your gaze finds him anyway. Rin looks up the same moment you do—bringing about a single second of the most intense eye contact of your life before you both look away in embarrassment a second later. Sae watches the entire scene unfold in front of him with his brows pinched together in thought.

You were three years younger than Sae and two years younger than Rin. You were all in the same general age range—but Sae knew he had much more real-world experience than you and Rin did combined. You, being a girl, and Rin being the youngest, just meant you were naturally both sheltered and innocent. Unfortunately, Sae was forced to grow up quicker, and he knew how horrible the world could be.

Sae cared more for Rin than he let on. Of course he knew he could have had his brother marry you instead—truthfully, it would have made his life easier. But Sae had no idea what kind of person you were. If you were anything like the royal women he knew, you'd be a snob: you'd be selfish, unkind, and have your own personal agenda—all the things he didn't want Rin to encounter. Sae had no interest in subjecting his brother to such filth. He knew he was heartless, but Rin's heart bruised far too easily.

You were different than what Sae expected. He wanted to find something about you to criticize or to frown upon. Something he could flesh out and show Rin saying, 'Look, she's not good for you.'

But when Sae watches his little brother's sly attempt to hold your hand under the table without anyone noticing, he can only sigh quietly in resignation.

"Alright, let's get this meeting started. There are a few major things we can clear now, so let's do that."

Quickly, the murmurs of everyone's prior conversations faded as Sae cleared his throat and stood up.

"The wedding doesn't need to be called off," he starts, walking around the table as his royal advisor quickly raises his hand with an exasperated sigh.

"Sir, with all due respect, there's absolutely no possibility her parents will allow you to—"

"That's not what I'm saying. The wedding will continue, but it won't be mine."

Sae rounds the table, approaching you and Rin with relaxed steps. Rin feels you go rigid in his hold, and he does the same once Sae comes and stands behind you two. Before either of you can react, Sae's hand is under the table and snapping around Rin's wrist—pulling it out from under the table as he holds up your intertwined hands for everyone to see.

The look of absolute mortification on Rin's face almost makes him smile.

"It's a good option. We'll have these two think about it and let us know what they decide later, but it'll most likely work out. I'll allow it, since these two can't seem to keep their hands to themselves or their eyes off of each other. It's disgusting how obsessed they are with one another."

You and Rin look towards Sae, identical faces of absolute bafflement: you both stare at the elder with wide eyes, flushing with embarrassment at his bold move. Sae doesn't spare either of you another glance as he turns towards the other council members, who mumble their agreement at the prospect.

Sae lets your intertwined hands go before heading back to his seat. You don't dare to look at Rin now—you always knew there was a possibility of you marrying him, but you never thought it would actually come to pass. Now you needed to talk to Rin more than ever before anything was confirmed. He sits there, stiff as a board and silent just like you, but he doesn't let go of your hand. If anything, his grip tightens just the slightest bit.

A serious look crosses over Sae's face as he sits back down, and everyone seems to be holding their breath as they wait for Sae to address the real issue at hand.

"The boy... he's going to be a problem. No one will marry me knowing I have a half-blood son. I'm sure you all know how picky people are with keeping their royal bloodline pure and all that. But that means he won't have a mother, and I won't be here often enough to raise him."

The murmuring starts again at once, concerned whispers flooding the room instantly as everyone tries to come up with some sort of a solution. Suddenly, a voice from the back rises.

"Could we put it up for adoption?"

There's an uproar of protest as everyone turns to the voice in bewilderment. The council member sinks into their seat with embarrassment, apologizing profusely for even suggesting the idea—but Sae doesn't seem bothered by it at all. His chin is perched on his fist, and he merely sighs before leaning back in his chair.

"It's a possibility if we can't come up with a solution. Stop being so rowdy and give me a better idea instead of complaining."

Some people were suggesting having the boy be raised by the servants in the manor, but Sae was insistent on making sure he had a proper mother and father. Mr. and Mrs. Itoshi were too old to take care of a baby—so that was out of the options, too.

You and Rin could take care of it. If anyone's thinking it, no one has the courage to voice it. Sae considers the idea silently as everyone discusses solutions noisily around him. He knows he can't speak the possibility into existence yet—he didn't even know how Rin would react to possibly marrying you; it seemed like too much to dump a baby into the picture too. Sae was running out of options, that was certain, but he wasn't going to force anything onto Rin until you two had talked.

Sae glances up to look at you and Rin. Both of you sit side by side, with neither of you speaking. Rin's brows are furrowed, and he seems to be in deep thought. You look nervous, peering up every few minutes with a small frown at every obnoxious suggestion said in regard to what to do with the baby. At some point, Rin's hold on your hand had become considerably tense, and you brushed your thumb over the back of his hand in an attempt to comfort him.

There was also the possibility that Rin didn't want to marry you. The entire situation was becoming far too messy, and you could feel yourself sinking further and further into your seat. After another hour of arguing that led to nowhere, Sae ended the meeting curtly and stated there would be another meeting some other time. Now that everyone had been dismissed, they were beginning to file out of the meeting room to leave. You look over at Rin hesitantly, only to find he was staring at Sae. You couldn't make out his expression nor what it meant.

"Do you want to talk to him, Rin?" you question softly, and Rin swallows the lump in his throat before nodding slowly. You gently pull your hand out of his grasp; his touch lingers on you for a second longer before you pull away completely, and you blend into the crowd a moment later and disappear out the exit with everyone else, leaving Rin and Sae alone.

You had absolutely no idea what would happen now.

Marrying Rin? It almost sounded too good to be true. But what would happen to Sae's son? There were far too many factors to consider.

With not much else to do, you found yourself walking down the manor's hallways in an attempt to try and clear your head. There was an inordinate amount of things going on, and you needed to take a step back and think about what you wanted to do.

You liked Rin. You liked him a lot. But you had no idea how he felt—you two had never once discussed what was between you, and you can imagine he must feel just as conflicted as you did. You knew there was something between you two, but would Rin ever want to go further?

It wasn't an appropriate time to go look for Rin now. The sun had set hours ago, and it felt like the manor was asleep with the lack of people you saw in the halls. With no other idea on what to do, you head back to your room.

You would just have to find Rin tomorrow. Getting ready for bed, your movements feel more sluggish and slow than usual. There's a gnawing feeling in your chest that won't go away—telling you that you're not going to be able to sleep peacefully until you talk to Rin. You're not sure how you'll be able to rest with so many issues untied, but there didn't seem to be anything you could do about it now.

Rin was most likely asleep now since it was so late. You could knock on his door and check since he was only a few rooms down, but you quickly shake away the thought with a sigh. Slowly, you untie your hair from your usual updo, take off your makeup, and slip into a simple nightgown. The soft fabric hugs you in a warm embrace, and after brushing out your hair, you walk towards your bedside table to blow out your candle when you hear a sound.

It's muffled and soft, so quiet you almost miss it at first. You don't move, listening closely to see if you can hear it again, and just when you think it's gone away, it starts up once again.

Slowly, you lower yourself onto your knees and allow your head to dip low enough where you can press your ear against the floor. You hear it much clearer now; the gentle vibrations coming from Rin's piano are as distinct as they are marvelous—blending together as naturally as watercolors.

The revelation that Rin was awake in the music room right beneath you is startling.

You've never heard him play at this time of night before. The melody he strings together has you sinking onto the ground completely, and the sound of his music is just as soothing and magical as you'd remembered. You picture Rin's slender fingers moving about the piano as artfully as they did the night you first met him, and you let yourself stay on the floor for a few minutes longer to listen.

By the time he starts up his next song, you've already grabbed your candlestick and started your path downstairs towards his music room.

There was no way you'd be able to sleep knowing Rin was awake—there was no use in even trying, because you were sure you'd end up staying awake to listen to him play anyway. Your footsteps are hurried and purposeful, and while you're not entirely sure what you'll say to Rin once you find him, you know you can't wait any longer to see him.

You open the door as quietly as you can, slipping inside and gently locking it behind you. You watch Rin's fingers come to a slow stop, and you move forward until you're standing right beside his piano stool. You're holding your breath, clasping your hands together nervously as he turns to look at you.

"Hi, Rin." You offer with a hesitant smile.

"...Hello."

He moves over wordlessly to make space for you to sit beside him, and you make sure to keep a little more distance than usual between you two once you're seated, only because you're not sure how Rin felt. His response is immediate—brows pulling together as his lips tug into a small frown, but he doesn't say anything, just quietly watching as you carefully place your candle on the edge of his piano's top.

The warm glow of the candle highlights every feature of yours in a fiery gold, and Rin's eyes widen a bit when he sees your hair is down. You're in a simple nightgown and not wearing any makeup either, and he's positive his heart is stuck in his throat. The soft curve of your cheek looks far too kissable in the candlelight, and he inhales sharply when you finally turn to look at him.

"I heard you playing from my room and couldn't ignore it." You smile, and Rin makes a small sound of embarrassment in the back of his throat once he realizes he must have kept you awake. Before he has the chance to apologize, you speak up.

"I wanted to talk to you either way; I don't think I'd be able to sleep until I did. But if it's too late for you, or if I'm interrupting—"

"No—no, I just... came here to clear my head. Couldn't sleep either." He mumbles quickly, discreetly moving the music sheet with your name written at the top back into his folder and out of your sight as you smile, relieved. Rin notices it doesn't reach your eyes, and he tries his best to mask his concern. His brother always told Rin he had a horrible poker face, so Rin does his best to school his expression into something neutral.

"Do you want to marry me?"

Okay, maybe Rin would have been able to appear as calm and collected as Sae usually does if you hadn't asked him that question outright. He becomes flustered in an instant, stammering as the tips of his ears turn a bright shade of red. He tries to string together enough words to form a coherent sentence, but after an entire ten seconds of stuttering, he simply clamps his mouth shut to avoid any further embarrassment before he takes a steadying breath.

"Yes."

You lean back a bit at his words, almost as if you weren't expecting them.

Rin's never been good with communicating how he felt. He often found himself retreating when his emotions got too overwhelming or confusing—facing them head-on was something he's always struggled with, but he wants nothing more than to lay his heart bare for you to understand. He watched his brother slip away because they couldn't talk, couldn't voice their thoughts when they were upset, and Rin didn't want to lose you because of his inability to trust—so he tries his best.

"I feel happy when I'm around you, it's as simple as that. I would never say yes unless I knew what I wanted—I was... I was mad at myself when I found out you were marrying nii-chan. It wasn't something I wanted. I'm not well versed with all the business stuff he does, and I know he's in a tight spot, but he would never ask me to marry someone I didn't want to. We can figure this out together, you and I—there's really no one else I'd rather be with than you."

Are you sure, Rin?

Rin had said yes to his brother then, and he's saying yes to you now. He's never been more sure of anything in his life. His future, his hopes, and his dreams all depended on what you said now.

You're already looking at Rin when he looks up to meet your gaze. Your eyes are glossy, and your smile is just as sweet as he remembered it to be. He can't stop his lips from twitching at the sight—can't stop looking at your lips at all. And when you lean forward, you can just barely hear the hitch in his breath.

"Can I kiss you?"

You whisper the question softly, but Rin doesn't have the strength to respond. Instead, he leans forward to meet your lips. They brush over your own once, tentatively, before his hand moves to cradle your face. Carding his free hand through your hair, his mouth molds against yours.

The kiss was gentle and timid, undoubtedly imbued with every bit of love you and Rin felt for each other, and there wasn't a single other place either of you would rather be than in each other's hold.

seven years later ⋆˙⟡

Akio stands outside his parents's bedroom door, shifting from one foot to the other before turning to look at his two younger siblings behind him. Haru and Akie are yawning, still clutching onto their blankets and stuffed animals tiredly, but they smile lazily as they peer up at their older brother.

"I can't believe you two followed me." Akio huffs, irritated, but Akie merely nuzzles into her older brother's arm with a yawn.

"You were loud. And we wanted to come!"

"Let me go in first. You guys can come in after, kay?"

The pair nods, and Akio slips into the bedroom as quietly as he can, letting the door click close behind him. It's already six am—there was a chance you and Rin were still tired, but the little pink-haired boy was ready to start his day. Slowly, he approaches the bed, poking your cheek once to confirm you're asleep before huffing and lifting one leg up and over the bed.

He crawls onto the heap of blankets, squeezing himself into the small spot between you and Rin on the bed easily as the latter stirs in his sleep. You must sense the little boy, because your eyes flutter open a moment later.

"Oh, good morning." You smile with a sleepy giggle, pressing a gentle kiss onto Akio's cheek as he huffs, snuggling into your side.

"Ma, it's six already. I can't believe you guys are still sleeping." The little boy murmurs, turning to look at Rin with a scowl—adorably appalled at the peaceful expression gracing his features.

"You're an early bird—but me and your papa like to sleep in. He's very tired, you know?"

Akio mumbles something into your chest, winding his arms around you in a bear hug as he pokes Rin's stomach with his foot.

"Dad's going to teach me how to make eggs for you. And the twins. But I really just want to make them for you."

You laugh quietly, but the sound is still enough to wake up Rin. Akio quickly rolls off of you, poking Rin's cheek with his finger as he slowly begins to wake up.

"Wake up, lazy."

"Go away."

Akio winds his arms around Rin either way right after, and you watch Rin tiredly pat the boy hanging off his back. The door creaks open a little further, and you see your twins heads poke through right after. Rin finally manages a small smile, sitting up and pressing a kiss to your forehead before beckoning the rest of the children inside.

They come in squealing, immediately hopping onto the bed and climbing onto you and Rin. Your husband yawns, circling his arms around any kid he could get his hands on while closing his eyes.

You pepper everyone's faces in good morning kisses, and after Akio's made sure he's disrupted you and Rin's sleep enough, he drags himself and the twins outside to brush their teeth and get ready for the day. Once they're out, you bring the blanket around you closer and brush your nose against Rin's.

"Hi."

"Hi, pretty."

Rin's touch is gentle as he cradles your cheek, and you both spend a moment simply staring at each other, admiring the face you've come to love more than life itself. He pulls you into his chest, breathing you in as you slump tiredly into his embrace.

He taps his pointer finger against your waist slowly, and every tap was to the rhythm of the song he'd made for you so many years ago—just as he did every morning.

a/n: oh my god...it's done...hollllyyyyYYY MOLY this took me a while but yay i'm so happy with it!! :D sae's kind of a deadbeat i'm sowwyyy 😞 rin and reader are happily married and sae's prospering overseas and doing business :p maybe one day he'll settle down, but who knows!! thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed it :))

tags: @rroxii @tsukimoon-chan @rainychi2 @cheriiepies @jukiamae @hotdogkongmalaki @theogfruitl00psmunch3r @danhoneyyysblog @mfreedomstuff @introspectiveintroverthere @ocean-mochi @kajironunaji @minasgirl @jiavirie @literallyn0ne @ankol-heap @ysvanielle 

[diasease]

Yes, it made sense that Till turned out to be alive,

No, it wasn't fan service.

Yes, it made sense for Alien Stage to have a hopeful ending.

No, Alien Stage wasn't complicated or tricky to understand.

Yes, Ivan tried to shove his love down till's throat.

No, their love wasn't unrequited.

Yes, Mizi let Sua sacrifice herself for her.

No, she's not manipulative, villainous, or traitorous.

I'm a blog that loves to complain, and especially explain, don't hesitate to ask

[diasease]

I can't WAIT to see season 3

[diasease]

Me: “I need to draw nagireo or I’m gonna go insane”

Also me: draws this

[diasease]

that was truly our alien stage

[diasease]

God forbid women do anything

[diasease]

ashes, ashes, we all fall down

[diasease]

they should invent an apartment that has huge windows but is never too hot and is near everything i like and all my friends but is also quiet when i want it to be and costs zero dollars or perhaps they pay me to live in. and they save it just for me so i dont have to look for it :)

[diasease]

hi req incoming!?:) (chars I had in mind; Sae, Rin, Shidou) with a fem reader. Maybe 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 drabbles if you do that sorta thing if not that’s cool! (I’m VERY curious to see this with Sae if you wanna just do one)

Reader working as an intern or something for character’s team. Reader finds herself alone with them and ends up arguing, which is odd since readers usually sweet but the character pushed their buttons. After the character insults reader in the argument reader slaps them then feels bad. How would they react??

I genuinely do not have the source of this sudden slapping obsession but someone said Sae’s head would snap to the side and this usual stone faced man would give you the most devious smirk because he’s actually a freak in disguise.

YOU LIKE YOUR GIRLS INSANE !?

a/n: absolutely adore this req, honestly now that you mention it, i'd go insane for feral sae !! and holy fuck, I definitely think reo would get turned the fuck on if he got slapped, please tell me you get my vision.

ft: itoshi sae, itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, mikage reo, kaiser michael.

itoshi sae:

he's too into it.

WAY too into it, it literally happened because he was being difficult as usual, there's nothing new to it with sae.

but he has been pushing your buttons for as long as you've worked under him.

god knows what he had said way too bluntly this time around to piss you off, you don't remember

however this time, rather than that fake understanding and kind smile that you normally show to people to deal with situations quicker, was no where in sight, because you were alone with him.

you couldn't give less of a fuck anymore, not after what he said—

"i'm starting to think you took on this job because you're a people pleaser and you like the male validation from the team members, such a push-over."

a loud 'CLAP' could be heard in the empty room, the silence that followed after was deafening.

oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god.

and before you can apologise and beg to whatever god is up there to not lose your job, there is a 'pftt' sound coming from the man that still has his faced pushed down, from both the slap and for the dramatic effect.

before it's a full on chuckle filling the room.

"guess you aren't a push-over after all."

and he gives you the most DEVIOUS smirk before saying "hope you know what this means for you, cariño."

itoshi rin:

"can you just shut up? you're being annoying." rin huffs as he sees you go over the interview questions for the nth time for the team.

and normally you'd ignore rin's cold remarks and you're trying your best to do it right now too

but fucking hell, he's breathing down your neck like he's judging your entire existence.

"can you stop looking at me like I escaped the psych ward, please?'

he blinks "hard not to, because you did describe yourself pretty accurately."

you didn't mean to, your hand moved before you could think, it was supposed to push him back, you were supposed to hit his shoulder out of pure frustration.

you didn't realise he was leaning down to your level.

SMACK!

and oof.

you're terrified for your job and your life as you immediately make sure that he's okay, but he looks up with dazed eyes, wide enough to look like an owl.

and he looks down at you like you just completely rebooted his system.

"you're going to regret that."

yeah so, you assumed as much, but not like THIS.

safe to say, he was late for the interview, there was a mysterious bandage on his cheek and his hair was uncharacteristically messy.

shidou ryusei:

ryusei is an absolute menace, everyone knows that.

and it's not that he made you upset, or said something to make you mad, you both were alone together as you were working on some important documents.

safe to say, you really shouldn't be doing serious things anywhere around this absolute gremlin of a man.

honest mistake on your part.

"oh that looks interesting, lemme see!" the paper is snatched from your hands and..

RIPPP!

yeah, he fucked up big time.

and you're normally so composed and ryusei doesn't expect anything more than a sigh and complains leaving your mouth.

SLAP!

he made a mistake.

but he doesn't regret it, he'll rip apart twenty more documents if he gets to experience you crash out like that again.

"shidou, i'm so sor-"

'oh nonono, why don't you make sure you mean that and repay me in another way?" and he has the most mischievous look on his face.

mikage reo:

reo never gives you any trouble.

he's the last person on earth to bother someone without reason.

and he's the one you get along most with because of how sweet and kind he is.

even if it's performative.

he's nice.

but right now, he's being anything but cooperative.

his friend and teammate, he has an unhealthy obsession with has been locked off, reo is crashing out.

he isn't listening and he has skipped out on important events and interviews.

being the team's manager, you were asked to deal with it.

you really tried. words just didn't seem to reach him in that moment.

"mikage, listen–"

"you wouldn't understand, you're doing nothing but pretending to be nice–" okay, hypocrite much.

SMACKK!

and he's so dramatic, head turned to the side, eyes wide, hand holding his cheek like he can't believe you.

he probably hasn't ever been slapped in his entire life, let alone been touched like that, he's the heir to mikage corporation for fuck's sake.

maybe it's the light headedness or him finally losing his mind, he can feel all his pent up stress going straight to his dick.

well.

why don't you take responsibility for messing up a face that's worth 705.8 billion yen?

kaiser michael:

so unhelpful.

literally the most unhelpful person alive, he's been buzzing in your ear like an annoying mosquito for the past hour.

usually you would not care, just nodding along with a polite smile.

today he's being extra bitchy, something about isagi.

and you literally want to tell him that you don't give two fucks about what isagi did or how kaiser is feeling about the situation.

"and he–"

"kaiser, i'm busy."

"doing what? you literally get paid to work with us and deal with us, don't tell me that you're so unprofessional and useless that you can't even–"

CLAP!

head swung towards his right, eyes blown wide.

"you didn't just! oh fuck you did!"

and he's malfunctioning.

hot, hot, hot.

he can't believe that's what got him going, why don't you help him take care of it?

after all, it's your fault.

[diasease]

made this and cried about it after btw