irritatedirishfrog

[irritatedirishfrog]

MY ROMAN EMPIRE IS, that before the U.S. government ever recruited the infamous Leon S. Kennedy, he was just a former cop, a broke rookie even, trying to make ends meet—while also raising a kid entrusted in his care for the time being. So, desperate for cash, he took a part-time security job at a place rumored to be haunted.

And stupid him, chose the shift that started in the middle of the night... He just knows Claire would laugh at him. What's worse? He's totally not keeping the job after tonight.

He supposed that it was just his luck. It was supposed to be temporary, easy money. But of course, nothing in Leon's life ever goes according to plan anymore—not after the events of Raccoon City.

| this fanfic was possible | | thanks to @daily-leon | | and their 'daily leon | | #90 post"! |

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“They moved?”

Sherry raised an eyebrow, glancing up from the crinkling bag of chips she’d been slowly working on for the past ten minutes. Her voice was casual, but there was a faint edge to it—just enough curiosity to mask the unease creeping in.

At first, it had seemed funny. But then Leon didn’t answer right away.

That worried her more than anything, the grip on phone she held got just a little tighter.

He stood a few feet ahead, partially swallowed by the gloom of the decrepit play facility, the party tables and scattered plastic chairs forgotten behind him. His eyes narrowed as he swept his flashlight across the lifeless room—for what felt like the fifth, maybe even the tenth time that night.

He exhaled through his nose. The beam trembled slightly in his grip as it passed over them again.

“They’re not supposed to move, right?” Sherry added with a nervous chuckle, a little quieter now. “You’re sure you saw one move?”

Leon’s gaze shifted toward the frozen figures posed in the shadows: animatronics with chipped paint, exposed wires, and stiff mechanical limbs forever caught mid-performance. Only four were still intact. Three remained on the stage—a blue rabbit, a bear, and something that might’ve been a bird. Or maybe a chicken. It was hard to tell, though it clutched a frosted cupcake on a tray like it had never known a different purpose.

He’d been told they hadn’t worked in years. Most of the others had long since been scrapped or dismantled.

But Leon wasn’t sure he believed that.

Not after all the lies he’d survived already.

“Yeah,” he muttered finally, almost like he needed to hear it out loud. “Or... something moved.”

He wasn’t a stranger to hallucinations. Raccoon City had left him with more than just trauma—it had left him constantly questioning the line between what was real and what wasn’t.

But this?

This felt different.

Not the chaotic panic of doors torn off hinges or bio-weapons crashing through floors. This was slower. Quieter. Colder.

The kind of threat that waited for you to turn your back.

This gig was supposed to be simple—just temporary work while the government figured out where to stash him. Low profile. Night shifts. Watch the place. Make sure nobody broke in. That was it.

Easy.

And yet here he was, one week in, flinching every time the old building groaned.

“I think I saw one of them tilt its head,” Leon said under his breath, the beam lingering on the rabbit mascot’s glassy, lifeless stare. “Just barely. But I saw it.”

Sherry’s stomach twisted. The chips were suddenly forgotten.

“You’re not joking, huh?”

“No.” He turned, his face paler than usual in the flickering light. “And it’s not like I’m just jumping at shadows. I’ve seen worse. Way worse.”

She knew that was true. He wasn’t the type to scare easy anymore—not after what they’d survived with Claire. Which made the tension in his voice all the more unsettling.

The silence stretched too long. Then, somewhere behind the stage, a metallic clang echoed. Something falling—or something moving.

Leon’s grip on the flashlight tightened.

“Okay, I officially feel weird,” Sherry said, standing and brushing chip crumbs from her hoodie. “I’d totally tell my friends at school about this if you didn’t sound so serious. That’s how scary this is. I feel creeped out.”

“Yeah,” Leon murmured. “Welcome to the club.”

Another clank—louder this time. Sharper. Closer.

Leon whipped his flashlight around, beam slicing through the thick, dusty dark. His breath caught as his eyes swept the stage—lingering just long enough to register what had changed.

One of them had moved.

He was sure of it now.

Oh, shit.

The blue rabbit—it had turned. Just slightly. Barely perceptible unless you’d been staring for hours like he had. But the head was angled differently. Its glassy eyes now faced straight toward him.

“These damn things are definitely moving,” Leon muttered, voice low and tight.

Sherry didn’t respond right away. When she did, her voice was hushed, like she was afraid they might hear. “Which one?”

“The rabbit,” Leon said, backing a step away without taking his eyes off it. “It wasn’t looking this way before.”

A faint whirring noise buzzed through the silence—mechanical, unnatural. Like servos warming up. It came from the shadows offstage.

Leon’s blood ran cold.

Something scraped against the floor.

“Okay,” Sherry whispered, tension creeping into her voice, “I think if that place is really haunted, you should quit. This is supposed to be a gig, not a horror show.”

He swallowed hard, flashlight beam twitching as it darted between the figures. “Yeah... I’m starting to agree.”

But even as he turned toward the exit, his gut twisted.

Because if they were moving now...

What the hell had woken them up?

Leon eased backward, boots scraping over the cracked tile. The flashlight jittered in his grip, the beam darting from the rabbit to the chicken to the bear like he couldn’t decide which one he’d rather not have to fight.

Which, in fairness, was all of them.

“You know,” Sherry said, her voice a notch too high, “I’m suddenly feeling like pizza places with murderous mascots should maybe be illegal.”

Leon didn’t answer. He was too busy watching the rabbit, willing it to stay exactly where it was. No twitch. No tilt. No—

The rabbit’s jaw clacked shut all at once.

Sherry made a strangled yelp and stumbled back, tripping over a chair leg. A plastic cup fell to the floor and rolled away, clacking hollowly across the tiles.

“Shhh, keep it down, would ya!” Leon hissed, freaking out.

“Keep it down? I'm on the phone, they can't hear me!” She gestured wildly at nothing. “Leon, there was a clank!”

"That's cause it just bit the air." Leon groaned.

The chicken’s mechanical eyelids flickered, almost like it was blinking.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Leon muttered, voice dry as sand. “Maybe it’s just trying to look friendly.”

Sherry flattened herself behind one of the chipped party tables. “Friendly? Leon, you know what friendly looks like. It’s not whatever's threatening you with it's jaws and mechanical abilities.”

She was cut off by another grinding whirr from somewhere off to their left.

Leon swung the flashlight around, heart slamming so hard in his ribs it felt like it might crack something. For one breathless instant, he thought he saw something move behind the torn curtain that led to the kitchen.

He tried to swallow. His mouth felt like he’d eaten the desert.

“This was supposed to be a low-profile job,” he said, voice tight, as he edged toward the security room, aka, his hiding spot. “You know, no zombies, no mutants, no—”

“—possessed animatronics?” she finished weakly.

“Exactly.”

Sherry peeked out of the door to the room she was in, looking down the hallway. “You know what Claire would say right now?”

Leon pressed his lips into a grim line. “Please enlighten me.”

“‘Leon, you’re cursed.’” She tried to grin, but it came out more like a terrified grimace. “She’s been saying that for years.”

He opened his mouth to argue—but the bear’s head shifted, motor squealing as its plastic snout locked onto him.

Leon snapped his jaw shut.

Sherry ducked again when she heard more noise from the phone, proceeding to crawl under her desk.

“Okay. Fine... She might be right.” Leon sighed.

Something thumped in the kitchen. A single, deliberate step.

Leon clenched his jaw. He flicked the flashlight off, plunging them into darkness broken only by the feeble glow of the emergency exit sign near the front door.

"Alright, I'm gonna turn my flashlight off, and sneak past them—"

“You’re turning it off?” Sherry hissed. “Why are you turning it off?”

“Because if I can’t see them, I can pretend they can’t see me.”

“That’s not how this works!”

“Look,” Leon said, voice low but fierce, “I’m working with what I’ve got, Sherry! And plus, I called you so you could be my emotional support, not correct me!”

Another step. Closer.

A metallic voice crackled to life through the speakers overhead—garbled, decaying from decades of neglect.

“Happy birthday to you…”

Sherry’s eyes went round.

“Nope,” Leon whispered. “Nope. Nope.”

Someone elses eyes went round.

“Happy birthday to you…”

Leon felt something primal in his soul practically leave and die when the glowing eyes moved closer.

The voice glitched, warping into an earsplitting shriek of static.

“Time to go,” Leon said flatly.

“No arguments here! You better run Leon, you can't die on me!” Sherry encouraged, almost crying from the fright.

He grabbed a backpack he had brought and bolted for the exit immediately. Behind them, something heavy slid off the stage with a wet metallic thunk.

As he stumbled into the night air, hearts hammering, he finally bent over his knees and sucked in lungfuls of oxygen.

Leon stared back at the door, one hand on the pistol holstered at his hip.

“I swear,” he panted, “if that blue rabbit follows me home, I’m going to shoot it in the face.”

Sherry wiped her eyes, her laugh halfway between hysteria and relief over the phone. “Promise you’ll let me take a picture first.”

Leon didn’t crack a smile at first, because he really wasn’t sure he was kidding.

But after a few seconds, he sighed and used the keys to open his car door.

"Alright, just don't go showing all your friends. I don't want their parents thinking I'm a terrible guardian."

[irritatedirishfrog]

IMPORTANT NOTE!

Hi everyone! Sorry for the sudden disappearance — I ended up getting super sick. It started with strep throat and then turned into a fever. Just when I thought I was getting better, I suddenly lost my vision — seriously, even with my prescription glasses, I couldn't see a thing.

Thankfully, I'm doing better now (I think?), though I’m still not entirely sure what that whole episode was about. I’ve got more than enough medicine and support, so I’m hoping to ease back into things more consistently by next week or the week after.

Thank you so much for your patience! For those waiting on requests or drafts — don’t worry, I’m on my way back. I haven’t forgotten!

[irritatedirishfrog]

Um… So like, we all universally agree that Yukinobu Tatsu had a scary as shit fever dream right after he took the worst type of hallucinogens, right?

And then, for some odd reason, he was just like "this would be super hilarious to read as a manga, all of the dumb ass genz's would totally love this'

Right??? Like, I'm not believing this man actually came up with this.

Either that or he's a satanist conversing with some strange high level demons, and if that became public news, I wouldn't even be surprised.

I don't trust that I'll ever feel okay after watching a dandadan episode or reading a chapter from the manga.

[irritatedirishfrog]

"𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐗, 𝐈𝐈"

— 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳

CONTENT: how some more of the wind breaker boys would react if you told them that you wanted to get pregnant.

[A PART TWO OF, ] -> "𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑, 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐗" Something I wasn't sure I would continue or not, but now am. So thanks for the support!

✓ requested by @tsunderelover07

✓ warning, poorly written work

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ SUGISHITA looked at you like you had completely lost your ever-loving mind. A what? Excuse him—pardon his stubbornly slow brain—but did you just ask if the two of you could make a baby? Like that was a normal thing to say? Like that wasn’t one of the most important, life-changing decisions a person could make? It was responsibility. And way too much of it.

“… You don’t have to answer right away, just think about it.” you mumbled, nervously fiddling with your fingers in that cute little way you always did when you were worried about how he might respond.

His girlfriend was insane.

And it wasn’t like you asked in a calm setting. No, you just blurted it out in the air, making him snap his head around like an owl—eye twitching erratically. And now, you were just moving on like you hadn’t dropped a grenade on his entire existence. You were just blissfully unaware of how that sentence affected him.

He figured that was kind of on him. He had a habit of barely talking, and nine times out of ten, you just got him without needing words. That was one of the many ways you were smart. Too smart, maybe. Smart enough that something as irrational as wanting a baby somehow made sense coming from you.

Funny, he had always assumed he’d be the one to catch baby fever first.

"Kyotaro, you're zoning out." You sighed, waving your hand in front of his face. He always had a bit of a dazed look, but you could still tell when he was listening—and when he wasn’t. He grunted in response, scratching the back of his neck, still stuck on the earlier topic. What could’ve possibly made you think about having a baby?

"I said I just realized I’ve lied to you about something," you continued. "How do you want me to tell you?"

Now he was doubly lost. Somehow, this conversation had evolved while he was still stuck on the baby conversation—you know, the one where you practically offered to spend your entire life with him like a fool. Another grunt, this one paired with a raised eyebrow—the kind that said, Are you serious right now? Though as much as he pretended not to care, he was listening.

“I realized that sometimes, when I say I need a hug... It’s really just because I think you need one.” You hesitated, your voice going a little softer.

Sugishita stared at you, deadpan. His expression read as mildly annoyed, but you could never quite tell emotions off of his face. It was mostly just how he replied to you. He wondered if you had any idea how warm that made him feel—how those words melted something in him. Like he might fall in love with you all over again, just because you said something that disgustingly sweet.

His girlfriend was definitely a keeper.

"...So I should probably just say that instead of lying," you added. "Anyway, I was gonna make some sushi. What do you want in yours? I was thinking maybe—"

"I want a baby too."

"...Eh?"

"Eh?"

Now you weren’t even sure you were having the same conversation anymore. And for the first time since you’d started dating him, he looked nervous. Blushing, even. The last time you remembered him reacting like that was when he first asked you to be his girlfriend. He must’ve thought this was serious enough to actually use his voice now.

Oh… Right. You did mention wanting a baby. But you didn’t think he’d respond so quickly. You expected maybe a nod, maybe a small 'yes' or 'no' by the end of the week—definitely not an answer right then and there... He wanted a baby?

“… Hold on, really?”

“No,” he muttered quickly, turning his face around. He couldn’t look at you—not with his face was practically neon red, not after letting that slip so easily.

It had just… Come out. He hadn’t even meant to say it. Maybe his subconscious did, but he honestly had no idea why he’d responded like that. Did he really want a baby? He wasn’t sure. Normally, he’d say no. He never thought of himself as someone who could be a dad. There were a dozen other people who’d be better picks—half his classmates, at least.

“You’re cruel.”

He turned around at the sound of your voice—just in time for a hand towel to smack him straight in the face, blocking his sight. By the time he pulled it off, you were already halfway down the hall, trying to escape.

Damn it. What was wrong with him?

Sugishita was quick to follow, grabbing your wrist. You smacked his chest with your free hand—not hard, but just enough to let him know you were pissed. The guilt hit him instantly. He didn’t mean to say no. He didn’t even know what he meant. He was just confused—about how to feel, let alone how to respond.

“You could’ve just said that you didn’t want a baby, you didn’t have to mock me,” you huffed, teary eyed as you tried to push him away. He ignored your hand pulled you closer to him anyway—because when he didn’t know what to say, his instinct was to hold you.

You were probably on your period, not that he was going to mention that though.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, hugging you a little too gently, too sincerely, like he was trying to tell you everything he couldn’t put into words. “I don’t… I didn't mean to be cruel.”

You hesitated. You wanted to push him away, still riding the wave of frustration, but you knew how this went. He wouldn’t let go until you hugged him back. He needed to feel that you still wanted him close, even when you were mad.

You let out another huff, this time lighter, and patted his shoulder with one hand while the other reached around the back of his neck. He didn’t loosen his hold—in fact, he pulled you closer, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. His back bent awkwardly as he tried to curl himself around you like a blanket.

“I think that’s a harsh word, though.”

“…What is?”

“Cruel. I don’t think I’m really cruel. I just… Have a hard time talking.”

“I know,” you sighed, closing your eyes and hugging him tighter. “I’m sorry for getting mad.”

“I… Um—” Sugishita stuttered. Not out of nerves, but more like he was still figuring out how to speak.

“… I don’t know if I want a baby right now.”

“That’s okay. That’s why I said to think about it.” You smiled, pressing a soft kiss behind his ear. He shuddered, but didn’t let go. Instead, he squeezed you again—hard enough that you started to wheeze.

“Okay—okay! I can't breathe!” you gasped, pushing at him until he eased up. He always forgot how strong he was, the guy didn’t know his own strength.

“But I want you to be happy,” he said quietly.

And the way he said it wasn’t forced, it wasn’t performative. He sounded almost upset by his own uncertainty, like his answer was disappointing him, too.

The thing was… He didn’t know if he could be a good dad. He could barely take care of you when you first started dating. Back then, all he knew was how to fight. Literally. That and he didn't remember too much of his own dad, he'd need some sort of guidance... Right?

“I am happy. I’m so happy with you,” you whispered, cupping his face and kissing the space between his brows. “It was just a thought… I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I wanted to let it out.”

His girlfriend was too good. Too precious.

“…I think… That I might want one,” Sugishita mumbled, eyes dropping to the floor. “But I don’t think I’d be a good dad. Not yet.”

“I probably won’t be the best mom either. But I want to be,” you replied. “And I think if we work together, we could be pretty good parents.”

“…So you don’t mind if we wait, then?” he asked, lips pouty.

“No. Maybe I should’ve explained myself better. I just wanted to let you know I wanted one, I’m okay with waiting.”

Sugishita pulled you into another hug—this one gentler than the last, but just as full of warmth. He might not say it often, but he loved you more than he could ever really express.

“Love you,” you said with a grin, kissing him again. Then, with a mischievous little smirk, you squeezed him as tightly as you could, trying to return the favor. Of course, he barely flinched. But he smiled—a real one, small but there.

“Love you too.”

You were kind. You were patient. And with you, he felt like he could just be. No expectations. No pressure. Just him. Every time you told him how lucky you were to have him, he wanted to correct you. Because in his mind, he was the one who got lucky. Fate, miracle, coincidence—he didn’t care what it was that brought you together. He was just grateful you stayed.

He was so in love with you.

…Fuck it.

“Let’s get married.”

“…Eh?”

“Eh?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ HIRAGI had started looking at you like you'd smacked him in the face—then proceeded to take three stomach pills at once, risking overdose. It was hard, having your girlfriend basically tell you she wanted you to get her pregnant without actually saying it. It was strange. And honestly, how did you expect that to work, given their situation? You were both still in school. Not only was it irresponsible, but it would be wildly inconvenient. Especially in an economy like this.

Then again, that didn’t mean you weren’t absolutely adorable when you begged. No, not at all, He'd just had to stay strong... But every time you asked, it was getting a little harder to resist.

Today might just be the breaking point.

Probably not though.

See, Hiragi had made peace with a lot of things since starting and continuously attending Furin high. Working on homework at 2 a.m. that literally no one else in the school did? Fine. Getting offered curry from people who he knew damn well didn't know how to cook it? Whatever. The slow, creeping suspicion that he might be flunking science soon and Mrs. Sato would be on his ass for it? Already expected.

But this? This was something else entirely.

You might as well have asked him to marry you, or at least, that would have been the only other thing you could say that'd stress him out more than this.

“Toma! Please!?” You whined beside him, voice sickeningly-sweet like you were trying to rot his brain through his ears. You shook his shoulder again—for what felt like the fourth time this week—and he could already feel the dread bubbling in his stomach.

He didn’t need to ask what it was about... But did it have to be this topic again? And right now while he's trying to eat?

Despite his dislike for the time you chose to bring this up, he didn’t flinch this time. He just stared dead ahead, blank-eyed with an almost dull look, like he was trying to get his heart to disconnect from his body.

He can bet that if he didn’t move, the higher beings in charge of adolescence would smite him where he sat and save him from this hormonal minefield of a conversation. Maybe they’d open a portal to another reality where you weren’t absurdly obsessed with the idea of becoming teenage parents.

Maybe in that universe, you'd be a normal girlfriend, one who still liked cats and bubble tea but didn’t casually drop life-altering hypotheticals during lunch. Then maybe he could finish his udon in peace and you could find something else to do.

“I was just thinking,” you started sweetly— way too sweetly. “It’d have your eyes, you know? Big and moody, it'd probably have your little pointy nose too. Hopefully not your stomach issues though, i'd feel bad for the baby if it did.”

Your voice practically dripped with a fake innocence. That tone—that tone was dangerous, the kind of tone that had consequences. It should have been illegal for you to speak to him with that kind of voice.

He could almost feel his soul attempt to crawl out of his body.

“I’m seventeen. You're seventeen.” he said flatly, still not turning to look at you in fear of possibly laughing at your face. “I can’t even drive legally in half of the country.”

“But imagine—tiny sock and cute clothes. I bet I could find the sweetest little bear-themed ones when it gets cold outside. Oh! And if it's a girl I can get pretty bows to wrap around her head!”

“You sound the same right now as when you and I were building Lego mansions and shit last week. that's already a warning in and of itself, we aren't mature enough for a baby.” He groaned.

It was almost like he was pleading from God for help.

This was just his life now, wasn't it?

“Well, technically, it'd be like that.” You grinned. "The baby would just be much louder and squishier."

Now he turned, slow as death, his expression one of exhausted disbelief. He couldn't handle you, someone just kill him right now.

“A child isn't a fucking Lego set, you don't take the damn thing apart and put it back together and it doesn't come with a set of instructions! And plus, do you even hear yourself? Do you genuinely hear the words you’re saying right now?”

“I’m just saying it wouldn’t be the worst thing ever, and it'd be funner.” You shrugged, batting your eyelashes in the way you knew made his brain short-circuit.

“No, you're right. The worst thing ever would be my Mrs. Sato finding out I got my girlfriend pregnant while I still can’t pass pre-calc and then getting arrested for attempting to murder me,” he snapped, rubbing his temples. “Do you want me to die? Be honest, because I've been having a hard time recently believing that you actually love me.”

“Only a little, and you don't even live with Mrs. Sato anymore, that's an unusable excuse.”

He dropped his head onto the dining table with a heavy thud, pushing his udon bowl a few feet away to the side. “My stomachs hurting again.”

"Aw, come on baby." You chuckled, giving him a kiss on the side of his head. "I'm only asking because I love you, and it'd be fun to be parents. Don't you think? I'm sure you'd be an absolutely lovely dad. Lively too."

He looked at you, finally looked at you, because really—what other choice did he have? You were giving him that look. Eyes wide. Smiling like mischief itself. He swore your cuteness was a government-level biological weapon.

And the worst part? It was working.

Little by little, you were wearing him down. He might as well have been a prisoner at this point.

“... You do realize,” he said slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was holding in a sneeze, “that if I actually said yes to this, I might spontaneously combust from stress and end up dying in a hospital bed before we even get to pick out a crib?”

“Then I’ll collect your ashes after your funeral and raise the baby in your honor. We’ll keep your urn on a manly mantle along with your stomach pills and I’ll teach the baby to wave at it every morning”

"Oh my God, I have a fiend for a girlfriend. And you don't even have any sort of shame about it." He groaned staring at you in horror. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

You leaned even closer, voice dropping to a playful purr.

“Love you too, daddy.”

He dramatically gagged out loud, and you nearly doubled over laughing.

Eventually, you gave up, resulting in him sinking further into the dining table like he was trying to hide away from you and become one with it. You simply tucked yourself into his side like a content cat. And thankfully for him, you didn’t push the subject anymore that day, at least, for now. Not while he was chewing on yet another stomach pill like it was his only lifeline.

Still.

There was always next week.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ TSUGEURA hadn’t even registered your offhand comment about wanting a baby as something serious at first. He blinked at you, silent for a good two seconds, before letting out a laugh like you’d just made a joke. But once the realization hit—once he really got the hint—he froze up and went quiet. You could see the gears turning behind his eyes, unsure of how to respond or if he even should respond at all.

To be fair, though, you weren’t the one who started this whole thing.

It had been one random night, the two of you curled up together when he shoved his phone in your face, showing you a TikTok of some chubby baby giggling over something dumb you’ve already forgotten. He’d laughed and said, “Our baby would be even cuter,” all casual like it wasn’t the most emotionally loaded thing he’d ever said to you.

So really, you blame him for opening that door.

“But… How would we even take care of it though?” he asked now, breaking the silence as he leaned against the wall next to your dressing table. He toyed with a Rubik’s Cube absentmindedly, spinning it with twitchy fingers, his expression caught somewhere between genuine concern and mild panic. “We’re still kids, and your grandma might try and beat me with a broomstick.”

“Don't worry about her, but I don’t really know,” you admitted as you were applying mascara. “I’m assuming the first one would be the hardest, seeing as we don’t exactly have experience.”

His hands froze mid-twist.

“First?” he echoed, practically choking on the word. He turned to stare at you, wide-eyed. “You mean... There would be more?”

“Well, yeah. Duh.” You held up a single finger, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “At least one more. That way the first one won’t be lonely, and they'll need similar names, but not too close that their annoyed by it when they get older.”

Tsugeura just stared at you as you finished doing your makeup, eyes darting around different parts of your face like he was doing mental calculus on how to escape this conversation alive. The Rubik’s Cube made a soft click as he slowly twisted it one last time, then lowered it into your lap like it had become radioactive.

“What?” You raise an eyebrow, tilting your head.

He squinted at you suspiciously, arms crossing like he was dealing with an international negotiator instead of his girlfriend. At this point, were you even planning to go out shopping tonight with your girlfriends? Or were you just saying that only to get food by yourself at the mall?

“You’ve thought this through way too much. How long have you been planning this? The whole sibling dynamic, the names, the timing—is this a trap?”

“You’re the one who showed me the baby TikTok and said ours would be cuter. That’s like signing a contract, basically.” You snorted.

“I knew that TikTok app was freaking cursed, I need to get that thing off of my phone immediately. It takes up way too much of my time anyway” He groaned, dragging a hand down his face dramatically. "I'd totally like a baby, but like, in five years when we're married and have our own house, not right now."

You sat back, arms behind you for support, still watching him. “Chill. It’s not like I’m saying ‘let’s have a baby tomorrow,’ calm down.”

“Yeah, but you would, if I said yes right now.”

You didn’t even blink. “I mean, probably.”

"... It all makes sense now." he huffed.

"What'd you mean?"

"I had this really strange dream last week that you tampered with your birth control so you'd get pregnant."

"..."

"... Well, did you?"

You decided to tease him, just a little, even though you didn't.

"... Maybe?"

"... Wow." Tsugeura clutched his chest like you’d physically wounded him. “Nope. That’s it. We’re done. I’m breaking up with you—temporarily. As of this moment, we are not dating. I need distance. I need time to think. I need legal counsel.”

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled.

“Yeah,” he said, striding dramatically toward the bed. “I’ll reconsider next year maybe, if you play your cards right. But for now, I need to preserve my youth. I’m sixteen, I still don’t know how taxes work.”

You didn’t chase after him as he laid sprawled out dramatically on the bed like his soul was leaving his body—you just watched him with that same smirk that always made him feel like you knew something he didn’t. That was the worst part. You probably did.

He plopped down on the bed, about ready to hide away from you with the covers before you spoke again.

“Fine,” you said with a shrug, flopping back on the bed with your arms spread wide. “Guess I’ll be single until next year then. Tragic.”

“Extremely,” he muttered.

You glanced over. “So, just to clarify—this breakup includes all boyfriend responsibilities, right? No late-night phone calls? No forehead kisses? No helping me open jars?”

His head whipped around. “Wait, hang on, I didn’t say all boyfriend responsibilities—”

“Ah, so you do want to co-parent the jar with me. Interesting.”

“Stop weaponizing jars! And no! I just like your forehead kisses.”

You grinned, turning to the side to look at him more closely. He still hadn’t moved from the bed, like his brain was buffering. But you saw the way his shoulders relaxed a little, like the panic had passed and now he was just pretending to suffer for dramatic effect.

“I know we’re not ready,” you said after a pause, voice a little softer now. “I was mostly joking. Kinda. Sorta. Maybe seventy percent joking.”

His mouth quirked into a tired smile as he turned to face you again. “That’s… Still like, thirty percent terrifying.”

You patted the spot beside you. “Come here, temporary ex-boyfriend.”

He hesitated, then sat up and crossed the room in a few steps, plopping down beside you like gravity had finally won. You leaned into him immediately, your arm hooking around his like it belonged there—which, in your mind, it did.

“I don’t actually want a baby right now,” you added, tilting your head against his shoulder. “I just like the idea of being a parent with you, if we ever do end up wanting kids.”

His breath caught a little—not enough for you to notice unless you were really paying attention. Which, of course, you were.

“Yeah…” he said after a long beat. “I guess if I ever do something that nerve-wracking… I’d want it to be with you, too.”

You blinked. “Wow. That was almost romantic.”

He groaned and buried his face in his hands. “I take it back. We’re broken up again.”

You laughed, and this time, he didn’t even try to leave.

“You know this means I’m upping the baby count to three now, right?”

“That’s not how negotiations work!” He gasped, horrified.

“Sure it is. You bailed on the deal you started, so I'm adding interest.”

Tsugeura groaned and leaned his head against the back of his chair, his brain silently praying for strength. “God, give me patience… And maybe a vasectomy.”

“You’ll change your mind.” You grinned, absolutely unbothered.

And the thing was… he might. Maybe not now or tomorrow.

But... Probably sometime next year. On your birthday maybe? Yeah, that would be a pretty romantic time to revisit this, Right?

"Maybe, but I won't let you know when I do." he scoffed.

"Yes you will." You simply replied, standing up from your dressing table to grab your purse.

"... Yeah, I will."

━━━━━━━━━━ ʙᴏɴᴜꜱ ʙᴏʏꜱ! ━━━━ KIRYU was intrigued—intrigued indeed. You definitely had a way with words, and he knew damn well that this would be yet another way to piss his father off. Not that he always wanted that outcome, but it was just... Funnier to annoy him that way. And besides, you were always there for him, always ready to help him or make him feel better. So really, who was he to oppose what you wanted?

Then again, he really did need to think about the consequences, didn’t he? After all, the two of you weren't even officially 'girlfriend and boyfriend', you were just messing around with each other, and he really had no idea how to be a dad either. Did you even truly want to be a mom? Or was it just something subconscious, something you hadn’t fully thought through? He wasn’t even sure if starting a family with him was something you genuinely wanted—or just something you said in the moment.

Your fingers moved gently through his hair, smoothing it out with care and focus. Though you weren't really doing much with it—just braiding a few places here and there before undoing them, or putting clips in and taking them out.

Kiryu was completely comfortable under your touch, but that didn't distract you from the overwhelming quietness in the room. It was almost silent—unusually so—and you didn’t need to look at him to know his mind was chewing something over. You could practically feel the weight of it pressing off him in waves.

“You’re quiet,” you said softly, letting a bit of a teasing tone into your voice as you reached the back of his head. “That’s usually my job.”

He let out a low grunt, barely audible—not in an annoyed kind of way, but more like he had just been caught.

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“You. That thing you said earlier.” He shrugged, absentmindedly messing with his phone settings.

You hummed as you worked a stubborn strand into place. “The thing where I said I’d give you a kid, or the part where I said sometimes your friend Nirei reminds me of a sock puppet?”

“The first one.” He snorted, and the sound made your chest warm.

You paused for a moment, fingers stalling at the back of his head. Was he really taking the time to think about it? Or was he just pulling your leg? It wasn’t like you hadn’t expected that to stick in his brain, but still… Hearing him bring it up made your stomach flutter.

“Do you want me to take it back?” you asked carefully, brushing a few strands behind his ear.

“I didn’t say that,” he replied, turning his head to look at you. His hair escaped your grasp, and your eyes were now stuck staring at it. Silence settled between you—warm and a little heavy. Then your hands moved again toward his hair, slower this time.

“I wasn’t joking, you know. I mean, maybe not right now, but someday... I think I’d want a baby.”

Kiryu swallowed hard, unsure of what to say—unsure if anything he could say would measure up to the weight of that kind of trust. He wasn’t sure if he was ready, but something about the way your hands kept moving, patient and calm, made him feel like he might agree if you asked him again. He'd want to figure it out quick, otherwise you might find another guy that'd give in.

Despite that, he didn’t say anything for a while, and you didn’t push. That was the rhythm you both understood—he’d come around to words when they made sense to him, not a second before. Still, you could see his hands fidgeting with his phone, not really doing anything with it, just tapping the edges, adjusting the brightness for the third time, flipping the screen orientation even though auto-rotate was off.

You smiled faintly to yourself.

“You’re not obligated, you know,” you said quietly, still focused on smoothing out his hair, brushing it down with a reverence he probably didn’t think he deserved. “Just because I said something doesn’t mean I expect you to actually say yes, or—y'know, start thinking of baby names.”

He snorted again, this time a little louder, and you saw the corner of his mouth twitch up.

“I’m serious,” you added, more gently. “I said it because it was true in that moment. I wasn't trying to tease you or be mean.”

Kiryu finally set the phone aside and leaned back into your touch, head tilting just enough to meet your gaze without saying too much. He looked tired—but not the kind of tired that sleep could fix. The kind that lived behind the eyes. The kind you’d been learning to see.

“I didn’t think you were being mean,” he said after a beat. “I just… I’ve never thought of myself like that. As someone who could have my own family. I'm already part of one, even if it's not the ideal one.”

Your fingers paused, just long enough to lace a small braid near his temple and let it fall again.

“In a way, you are part of another family,” you spoke. “My mom and my grandma both like you a lot, even though they aren't too fond of your pink hair and piercings.”

His jaw clenched, not out of anger—more like he was trying to stop something from cracking open inside him. His next words were low, half-mumbled.

“Sometimes I think I wouldn’t be good at it. That I’d screw it up. Be like my old man, or worse.”

“You won’t,” you said without hesitation. Not because you were blindly optimistic, but because you’d seen him—really seen him. How he protected people, how he thought too hard about things, how he tried even when he didn’t know how.

He didn’t answer right away, and that was fine. You weren’t trying to get a declaration out of him. Just honesty.

“Would it be weird,” he finally continued, “if I said I’ve been thinking about names? Just... in case.”

You blinked, then laughed softly, brushing your fingertips against his scalp. “Depends. Are we talking badass names like Raiden and Takeshi the protagonist, or...?”

He gave you a dry look. “If I have a child with you, I’m not naming it 'the protagonist'.”

“Okay, but what if it fits?”

"You watch too many weird shows." Kiryu rolled his eyes but didn’t hide the tiny smile tugging at his lips.

"Yep, cause they remind me of you." You teased, sticking your tongue out at him.

Kiryu leaned back a little more, enough that his head nearly rested in your lap. You didn’t mind. In fact, you welcomed it, letting your hands fall from his hair to rest gently on his shoulders. The warmth of him there, so close and still, made you ache in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t heavy anymore. It just was just there, almost calming.

Then he said, “Hypothetically speaking, If we did have a baby, and it was a girl... Can we name her after my sister?”

You perked up slightly, watching him with a curious tilt of your head. “Your sister? Do you think she'd like that?”

He nodded once. “I think so.”

“... Sure,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. "She does have a very nice name."

He looked like he was about to say more, then hesitated, his jaw working slightly. You didn’t press. Eventually, he'd say what he wanted to.

Kiryu's eyes flicking down toward your hands. He picked one up—rough and calloused fingers brushing yours—and held it like it might vanish. It wasn’t romantic, not in the conventional sense. But it was... comforting, a show of care on his part.

“You think it'd look like me?”

“Yeah, I hope it’s got your ridiculous pink hair and terrible fashion sense.” You smiled at him.

He made a noise halfway between a scoff and a laugh.

“You love my fashion.”

“I tolerate your fashion.”

“You’re wearing my hoodie.”

You glanced down at yourself, then shrugged with mock indifference. “That’s just because it smells like you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And that’s not romantic?”

“Nope. Totally practical.”

Kiryu smiled then—really smiled—and something in you eased.

"Can we at least start dating before we think about having a baby?"

"... Yeah... I'd like that Mitsuki."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ TOGAME had known for a while—quietly, secretly—that you wanted a baby. You’d never said it outright, just dropped a few soft hints here and there. And he hadn’t brought it up either, not because he didn’t care, but because he didn’t want to make you feel awkward or rush you into something you weren’t ready to voice.

So he waited. Patiently. Waiting was second nature to him, after all. He figured when you were ready, you'd say it. And when you did, he’d agree—no hesitation. That much, he already knew. Honestly, you probably should’ve known it too.

But damn, you took forever to say it. Longer than it took him to walk to a vending machine and grab a drink. And in his defense, he wasn’t that slow—no matter what you said.

At the moment, he was lounging in his seat at the Shishitoren headquarters, idly watching the stage as a few guys shuffled boxes around and cleaned up. Not the most riveting sight, but there was something oddly calming about the movement. He could’ve been doing something more productive, sure, but he didn’t feel like it.

Then came a light tap on his shoulder.

“Jo? Baby?”

He didn’t look back right away, but the voice was familiar. A slow smile pulled at his lips as he lifted a finger and pointed ahead. You caught the signal quickly, circling around to the row he was sitting in.

“...Hi,” you said, smiling.

Still, Togame didn’t speak—just gestured to the seat beside him. You rolled your eyes, but sat down anyway, the leather cushion creaking faintly beneath you.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The background noise of crates being dragged and orders being barked barely registered in your little bubble of stillness.

Togame glanced sideways. You were deep in thought—too deep. He tilted his head slightly, watching for a moment longer before leaning back and crossing his arms.

“You’re doing that thing again,” he said, voice low and amused.

You blinked. “What thing?”

“The one where your mouth’s closed, but your brain’s loud.”

You laughed quietly, your shoulders relaxing just a little. Okay, maybe he had a point.

“…Can I ask you something?” you said after a pause, your voice small, hesitant.

His eyes flicked over to you again, expression unreadable except for the slight lift of his brow.

“You can ask me anything, pretty thing. Always,” he said, more serious now.

You nodded, fingers twisting nervously in your lap—just like they had when you first admitted your feelings for him. Which was ridiculous, considering all you’d been through together. He’d seen you at your worst, yet somehow… this felt scarier than anything else.

“I’ve been thinking,” you began slowly. “Like… if you wanted to, maybe… I’d want a family. With you... Like, a baby. W-would you want that?”

Togame didn’t move right away. Not out of shock or hesitation—more like he was taking a slow, full breath inside his head. Letting it settle.

Then he leaned forward slightly, his gaze soft as it met yours.

“Took you long enough,” he murmured, lips curling into a crooked grin.

This guy. Of course he already knew.

"... Took me long enough?" you almost gasped, pointing at yourself. In turn, you earned an even softer smile as he lightly pinched your cheek.

"... How long have you known?"

"Uh, since... Two months ago I think, when you were giggling at that baby at the restaurant."

You flusteredly chuckled. “I was trying to do it right.”

“And I was trying not to scare you off,” he said. “Guess we’re both idiots.”

“Guess so.” You laughed again, even though you couldn’t picture Togame as an idiot—he was too calculated for that, always deliberate, even if he took his sweet time.

A comfortable silence followed, and then he reached out, covering your hand with his. His touch was warm, steady. He didn’t offer any grand words—just gave your fingers a gentle squeeze.

“Let’s do it, then,” he said. “I’d love a baby with you.”

Your breath hitched at his words, your heart doing something warm and fluttery in your chest. You hadn’t expected it to feel like this—so simple. So right. Like all that time you'd spent worrying about how to say it properly didn’t matter in the end. Because Togame already knew. And, of course, he’d just been waiting on you.

You squeezed his hand back, your fingers threading between his.

"...You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, right?" you asked, half-joking, half not. You didn’t doubt him—not really—but this was something you needed to be sure about. Something too big for even a sliver of uncertainty.

He turned his head fully this time, eyes meeting yours without a single flicker of hesitation.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean,” he said simply. “Not to you.”

You nodded slowly, letting that settle in your chest. It helped, how calm he was—how steady. You, on the other hand, felt like your brain was short-circuiting with every possible version of your future crashing into each other at once.

But his presence had a way of grounding you. Always had.

“… So, like,” you began cautiously, “Do we just… start trying? Is there a… plan? Or do people just wing it and hope for the best?”

Togame raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“I don't know,” he said. “Never done this before. But if it involves more of you climbing into my lap, I think I’ll manage.”

You smacked his arm lightly, biting back a grin. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet you want to have my kid,” he replied, deadpan. “So who's really the problem here?”

“Don’t make me regret this.” You groaned, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He chuckled, his chin resting briefly against the top of your head. “Too late.”

The two of you sat like that for a while, the noise of the hideout continuing on without you. Someone cursed in the distance. Something metal clanged. But it all felt far away—like background noise to a life that was about to shift into something bigger, something deeper.

Eventually, Togame spoke again, quieter this time.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said. “Doesn’t have to be perfect. We’ll just… do it together.”

You looked up at him, heart feeling a little too full. “Okay.”

And just like that, it wasn’t a maybe anymore. It was real.

The idea of a family, with him... Felt perfect to you.

"Can I be the godfather?"

You slapped a hand over your mouth to stifle a scream. Togame nearly jumped out of his seat. Both your heads whipped around to the voice behind you—only to find a wide-eyed, grinning intruder grinning from one row back.

Choji Tomiyama.

Leader of the Shishitoren gang. Togame’s best friend. Certified menace. Also a stealth ninja.

You might just die from secondhand embarrassment.

"What did I tell you about sneaking up on us like that?" Togame groaned, yanking off his sunglasses and flinging them at Choji’s head.

Choji caught them one-handed, like a show-off. “Sorry, forgot. So, is it a secret? Or can I be, like, the uncle?”

"You," you started, pointing at him with deadly precision, even as a reluctant smile tugged at your lips, "can be the family friend. Like you already are."

"But that’s so boring," he whined. “I wanna give the baby a bunch of gifts!”

"So you can spoil our future kid rotten? Absolutely not." You huffed.

"Plus, you are practically a baby yourself," Togame added dryly. "You might as well be our practice child."

“Pfft. Whatever. I’d make a great godfather,” Choji scoffed, now wearing Togame’s sunglasses on his forehead like a crown. “Me and a baby would totally vibe. I’d be the perfect babysitter. Teach the little one how to box.”

"If anyone’s teaching my child how to fight, it’s me," Togame deadpanned.

“Aw, no fair!” Choji whined, kicking his feet like a kid throwing a tantrum.

You leaned toward Togame, lowering your voice. “…How does your friend run this gang again?”

“Beats me,” he said with a shrug. “And I should know, I’m his emergency contact.”

You were still recovering from that answer when Togame leaned over and kissed your forehead.

And then—

“If I can’t be the godfather,” Choji suddenly declared, finger pointed dramatically at you, “I’m telling everyone that you two are trying for a baby.”

Your face twisted on instinct, a mix of dread and mortification hitting you all at once. Choji, of course, fed off that reaction like it was his favorite snack. His grin turned predatory—but in that obnoxious, mischievous older-brother kind of way.

Thank God you had Togame. At this point, he was basically your human shield.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Togame said, standing up with finality, exuding just enough threat to wipe the grin off even Choji’s face. “And give me those damn sunglasses back.”

Choji pouted as he peeled the shades off his forehead and tossed them back.

“Party pooper.”

Togame caught them without looking. “Professional buzzkill,” he teased. “It’s a full-time job, you're lucky she hasn't asked me to beat your ass.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, some of the tension melting from your shoulders. It was chaos—warm, familiar chaos—even with Choji’s nonsense.

Oh well, you guess Choji could be the godfather.

[irritatedirishfrog]

"𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄... 𝐈'𝐌 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘."

𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘫𝘪 𝘴𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘮, 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘬𝘢𝘻𝘢 In which, Akaza finds you—a woman who stirs the haunting memory of his beloved Koyuki. The resemblance is uncanny, and with it comes a flood of emotions he thought long buried. You become his fixation, a delicate echo of a life he lost. His obsession festers into something dark and consuming. He can’t bear the thought of losing you—not again.

So, he does whatever it takes to keep you. If it means killing, he'll do it. If it means watching you through the night, never sleeping, never blinking, he’ll do that too.

You’re his now—just like she was.

━━━━°⌜ 鬼滅の刃 ⌟°━━━━

How does one know when they've won?

Well, the first question is—what did they win? What was the goal they believe they've achieved in the first place? Then, they have to cover all the bases, make sure everything is done right. Every move, every decision must align, even the smallest of actions leading to one grand accomplishment. Each piece has to fall perfectly into place.

Akaza knows this. His one and only goal has always been the same: to get stronger. That was the path. That was the purpose.

Or so he thought.

Until he saw you.

He can’t recall exactly what he was doing when it happened. Maybe he had just finished killing a group of demon slayers. Maybe he was running an errand for Lord Muzan. It doesn’t matter.

All he remembers is you—the way his eyes landed on your terrified face that night.

But he hadn’t done anything yet. He wasn’t looming over a corpse, wasn’t drenched in blood. He doesn’t even remember moving in a way that should have frightened you. Perhaps it was his appearance. After all, he didn’t resemble anything close to human anymore.

Yet, you didn’t run. Not like everyone else. You just stood there, staring at him with wide, fearful eyes. You looked as if you’d already given up—as if you expected him to kill you.

He would have let you go, had you tried. If you ran now, he wouldn’t stop you. He wouldn’t hurt you.

And then… he saw something else in your eyes.

Not just fear.

Curiosity.

Dare he say it—admiration? A flicker of fascination for something you couldn’t understand. Something monstrous.

Koyuki...

... Koyuki?

Who was that?

Akaza’s brow furrowed. A name, a whisper in the dark. A woman's face danced at the edge of his memory—beautiful, delicate, distant. Like a dream. Or a dream within a dream.

He looked at you a moment longer, allowing himself to sink into the foggy memory. You reminded him of her. Of someone from a life long gone. He couldn’t remember her clearly, but the feeling remained. A phantom ache of love and loss twisting in his chest.

He couldn't look away. He didn’t know what drew him to you, what made him want to move closer. To touch your face. To hold it in his hands as if trying to piece together a forgotten past.

He hated these feelings. Hated this weakness. He hated studying anything. But he studied you.

Then, at last, he spoke—his voice low, almost reluctant.

"Run."

You flinched.

Your expression flickered—uncertainty, confusion—but you didn’t hesitate. You did what everyone else did.

You ran.

Everyone runs from danger. It’s in their nature. Especially from demons—humanity’s predators for over a thousand years.

But why hadn’t you run until he told you to?

He didn’t understand. And that mystery clawed at him. Gnawed at his mind.

He had to know you.

He had to see you again.

Because when he looked at you… he saw her.

And so, the days went by. Days turned to weeks. Weeks into months.

All of it spent watching you.

Akaza followed you with quiet persistence, learning everything there was to know—your habits, your favorite foods, the people you spoke to, the things that made you smile. It hadn’t started out this way. In the beginning, it was just curiosity.

He only wanted to understand what kind of person you were. The kind of person who had the audacity—no, the gall—to stare at him that night. Unmoving. Almost unafraid.

The kind of person who reminded him so clearly of her.

His Koyuki.

So, he followed you. Mindlessly. Stalking was the right word, he supposed… though he didn’t like calling it that. He wasn’t like Douma, who reveled in such depravity. No, Akaza at least felt some sliver of shame. It made his stomach twist.

Still, he did it.

He preferred to think of it as a romantic walk—albeit with an unknowing partner. A stupidly long name for something so wrong.

Of course, he could only follow you at night. The sun was unforgiving. It frustrated him—made him yearn more urgently for the blue spider lily. He had nearly died too many times just trying to see you before sunrise, forced to retreat into the shadows like a frightened animal.

Fortunately, you often worked late. You moved through the night with quiet purpose. There were moments he almost pitied you for how hard you worked. But then he’d catch a glimpse of your tired, triumphant smile, and that feeling would vanish. How could he pity someone who looked so satisfied with the life they lived?

And on the nights you stayed home, he’d find somewhere to perch—on a neighbor’s rooftop or right outside your windowsill. Watching. Always watching.

You lived your fleeting, fragile life without knowing what loomed just beyond the glass. It was precious, and it was temporary. That contradiction fascinated him.

More than once, Akaza nearly stepped into your room while you slept. He imagined how it would feel to be near you. To hold you.

To be close to something… Someone, so soft.

Almost.

Each time, the thought shamed him. He’d scold himself like a child—how dare he even think of violating your peace. He wouldn’t take that from you. Not your sanctuary. Not your illusion of safety.

Even if, in truth, it was an illusion. He could walk in whenever he wanted. And that knowledge unsettled him.

With time, he learned more—your preferences, your quirks. He discovered how different you were when you were alone. Free. Vibrant.

You were strict with yourself in public, carefully composed. But in solitude? You were passionate. Fiercely alive.

You didn’t know he was watching. That’s why you let your guard down. He didn’t mind. If anything, it felt like a privilege.

You painted. You cooked. And when boredom struck, you’d try your hand at things most women didn’t—like practicing basic fighting forms. The sight nearly made him laugh once.

He remembered the first week vividly. You painted someone—again and again—on a small canvas, no bigger than a book. Something simple. Yet you poured yourself into it with a reverence that left him conflicted.

Who was it?

Whoever they were, they consumed your time, your thoughts. It made him… jealous.

He watched your hands move with care, graceful and precise with every stroke of the brush. Your focus, your artistry—it was mesmerizing. And yet, you never showed your work to anyone. You hid it away.

That baffled him.

Gyokko would’ve adored your craft. Akaza almost smirked at the thought—of course, that was sarcasm. He’d never let that grotesque creature know you even existed.

If he did, he’d have to kill him.

You hid everything you were proud of, it seemed. Maybe out of embarrassment. Maybe to stay humble. He didn’t know.

But he wanted to.

He needed to.

What baffled Akaza the most during that week of watching you paint was the realization—near the end—that the figure on your canvas was him.

Him?

You had tried to paint him from memory.

He couldn’t comprehend it. Why? Why would a woman who only saw him once—by pure chance—choose to remember him rather than erase the encounter from her mind?

Why preserve the image of a demon—a monster like him?

When he realized it was indeed his likeness, he waited until you left the room, then slipped silently through the window to examine the painting more closely.

It was him. Unmistakably.

Not just in broad features, but in the shadows—how you’d captured the dim moonlight that carved across his face, the soft menace in his posture, the vague etherealness of a figure who belonged more to nightmare than memory. You had painted him exactly as you must have seen him: fleeting, monstrous, and veiled in the night.

It unnerved him how accurate it was. And yet… it warmed something deep inside his chest, a sensation long foreign to him. A flicker of being seen.

After that, Akaza made a decision: he would work up the courage to approach you. To let you see him again. Maybe—just maybe—you’d paint him again.

He began watching you every spare moment he could. He observed your tranquility, the way your eyes lit up with fascination, the tender smile you wore when something small delighted you. And he didn’t understand the emotion swelling inside of him. Obsession was too simplistic a term. This bordered on compulsion.

He watched you so intently that he didn’t even realize he was hungry.

He forgot to eat. It wasn’t until one of Muzan’s meetings that the demon lord noticed his weakened condition. Muzan questioned him, sharp-eyed and suspicious.

Akaza had no proper excuse—so he told the truth, in part. He’d simply lost track of time that evening. Technically, it wasn’t a lie

Muzan let it go. But that moment unsettled Akaza.

He had become so consumed by you that he neglected his most basic instincts. You frightened him—because of what you made him feel.

How does one know when they've won?

Well... first, one has to know what they've won. Until then, one can’t possibly know whether they’re victorious or just chasing shadows.

Akaza once believed that to win meant becoming stronger. That defeating the other Upper Moons—Kokushibo and Douma—was his ultimate goal. The final step before reaching the top.

But lately... he wasn’t so sure.

This obsession with you—was it another goal? Another peak to conquer? Or something else entirely?

Now, you had become his fixation. Not strength. Not dominance. You. Because when he saw you, he remembered her.

And he needed to remember her.

So the nights continued with him watching, lurking in silence, waiting for the right moment to let you know he was there.

Until he saw him.

A man—average, forgettable—who bumped into you one evening and hung around far too long under the pretense of mentorship after an 'interesting' conversation. Akaza knew better. He saw the way the man looked at you. The hunger. The possessiveness masked by charm.

And while you remained polite—reserved, innocent—that only made Akaza more concerned.

It wasn’t just the flirtation that ignited his hatred—not even when the man’s hand slid far too low on your back, fingers resting just above the curve of your behind. Not even the way he whispered things meant to lure you, to make you pliable.

No.

What infuriated Akaza to the point of violent disgust was what he discovered.

After a brief detour to investigate, he found the truth: The son of a bitch was married. With children. A drunk. A liar. A neglectful, abusive father who let his wife shoulder everything while he chased after single, naive women like you.

Even if the bastard left his wife for you, there was no guarantee he’d stay faithful.

So Akaza watched him for a week, giving him time—perhaps more than he deserved—to make the right choice.

He didn’t.

So Akaza removed him.

Swiftly. Without hesitation. He ended the man’s life as abruptly as the man had entered yours.

He didn’t even eat him. Couldn’t bring himself to. The stench of the man’s moral rot was enough to sour Akaza’s appetite entirely. He left the corpse in a place where the authorities would find it and they did, attributing the death to a drunken bar brawl.

It was better this way.

Only the man’s wife mourned him—and even her grief was short-lived. The children barely reacted. In truth, Akaza had killed worse men, in worse ways. This one barely registered.

He wasn't jealous. Truly. He knew he had no right to be. If you fell in love with a human, got married, lived a full and happy life—he would understand. That’s what was supposed to happen.

You deserved a life with another human being. You deserved a life unaware of monsters.

But Akaza knew men. He understood the difference between admiration and lust. Between genuine affection and twisted longing. And the looks you received? Far too often, they were the latter.

Still… even with that understanding…

He couldn’t help but want you alone.

He wanted you to remain untouched. Unclaimed.

His.

Not because he deserved you. But because he couldn't bear to lose you.

Not again.

But after a few more weeks of watching you—killing the men who meant you harm and barely restraining himself from killing those who treated you with respect—Akaza finally worked up the courage to see you again.

Well… he worked up the courage to be near you.

You didn’t know he was there, though, so he wasn’t sure that counted.

He had entered your house quietly, prying open one of the windows without breaking the glass or making a sound. You had just gotten home, and he didn’t want to disturb you.

Lowering himself onto the wooden floor, he crept through what he realized was your kitchen, carefully avoiding anything that might creak. Then he made his way into the living room, taking special care not to wake the dog.

He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing.

What was he supposed to say?

It had been three months since he’d first laid eyes on you—since the night he uttered only a single word. And now… now he was sneaking around your house like a thief, like a lunatic.

He didn’t even know what kind of men you liked. All he knew—from eavesdropping—was that you thought most men were... Pretty? Great. Useless information. All that stalking, and this was all he got?

His ears perked at the sound of humming.

His chest tightened. You. You were humming, and it made him feel warm and sick at the same time.

What if you screamed when you saw him? What if you ran?

Would you call the police? Would you think he was some freak, some monster?Of course, he could handle anyone who tried to hurt him. He could kill this entire village and just take you if he wanted.

But... he didn’t want that. Not really.

Would you even give him a chance?

He felt so nervous he thought he might throw up.

He followed the humming silently, crouching low as he entered the hallway. He stopped in front of your door.

It was closed.

He didn’t want to open it—maybe he should have come in through your bedroom window like he usually tried to do.

Still, he couldn’t give up now.

This was the closest he’d ever gotten to you.

He listened to your humming through the door, letting the sound calm him. It was soft. Sweet. Familiar. He didn’t know why you reminded him so much of Koyuki. All he knew was that when he looked at you, he felt closer to her.

Very slowly, he cracked the door open.

Then he ducked back instantly when the humming stopped.

You glanced at the door, puzzled, then seemed to shrug it off. You assumed it was the wind—your doors weren’t exactly sturdy.

You went back to humming, hanging up your kimono before blowing out one of the lamps.

The room dimmed.

It was quiet again. Still.

Then came another breeze—and in an instant, the other lamp went out. You froze.

You tried to tell yourself it was just wind again. Just wind.

But your heart raced, and your palms were clammy.

You peeked around the corner of the room and into the hallway, then scanned your bedroom.

Nothing.

But… hadn’t you just seen something? A silhouette? A flicker of movement in the shadows?

You didn’t sleep that night.

Now, did Akaza run away?

Yes. Yes, he did.

But technically, it was progress.

Sure, Kokushibo would probably scowl and call him pathetic for cowering in fear of a mere woman. But Akaza couldn’t help it.

And make no mistake—he didn’t run because he was afraid. He ran because it was you.

And he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. No matter how embarrassing that was.

He continued watching you from a distance, peeking from your neighbor’s rooftop while silently hyperventilating. He could see the way you were sweating, clutching a pillow like it could protect you—as if smacking an intruder with something that soft would make any difference.

He had almost done it. Almost touched your hand. But he couldn’t bring himself to follow through. What would he even say after that? People don’t just touch each other like that during a first meeting. Right?

Another week passed.

He kept testing himself, sneaking into your house whether you were at work or not. Slowly, inch by inch, he got closer to you. Half the time he was standing in the same room as you, and still—you never saw him.

He didn’t mind.

But one night, he couldn’t take it anymore.

It had been four months since the first time he saw you. And now he needed to hold you. To protect you. To belong to you—or maybe make you belong to him. His thoughts were tangled and dark, and he knew it. Some of the things he imagined… he only thought of them because he was a demon. That had to be the case, he's sure.

You were his. You'd be his until the day you died. Whether you knew it or not... No, that wasn’t enough. He didn’t want you to die. He wanted to make you a demon, bring you into his world, keep you by his side for eternity.

But… he wanted you to want it too.

It wouldn’t be worth it if you only stayed out of fear.

He would hate that.

He felt like he couldn’t breathe. His chest ached. He might pass out. This was almost as bad as facing Muzan. Which made no sense—you weren’t powerful, you weren’t dangerous. You were just a beautiful human.

So why was he so terrified?

He shook the thoughts away, forcing himself forward. You were already asleep—thankfully. He couldn’t handle the idea of talking to you while awake just yet.

You'd stayed late at work again. By the time he arrived after sundown, you were already curled up under your blanket, snoring softly.

He slid the window open like he always did, careful not to make the wood creak as he stepped inside. Once closed again, the room felt smaller. Warmer.

You were sleeping soundly, your features soft and vulnerable. You were even drooling a little, and it made him want to smile.

But he didn’t.

He stood there for a long while, unsure of what to do. Like always.

Why did he always ask himself that same question?

Maybe he could talk to you like he usually did. Whisper to you while you were sleeping. Maybe tonight… maybe tonight he could kiss your forehead.

You did sleep hard, after all.

Maybe he could take you, make you his—

He caught the thought mid-breath and punched himself in the nose.

Hard.

His neck snapped back slightly with the force, the sound echoing in his skull. His body healed the broken nose instantly, of course, but that wasn’t the point.

He finally decided to sit on the floor beside your bed, sighing quietly.

“I know you never hear me…” he began, voice low. “I suppose the doesn’t matter anyway.”

He paused. The silence settled in again, but somehow it didn’t feel so awful this time. It made the moment feel more real. More like you were actually here with him.

“It’s Akaza…” he continued softly. “Y’know, you’re interesting…”

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against the edge of the mattress.

"You kind of make me embarrassed. But one day… I want to talk to you normally. I like your painting of me too. I tell you that all the time, don’t I?”

He gave a small laugh, watching you lie there, still as ever.

Until you moved.

Shit.

Akaza flinched, practically airborne as he got ready to leap out the window.

But you were just stretching.

He froze, watching you yawn and roll over, murmuring something into your pillow.

Aw.

You looked like one of those little orange cats he sometimes saw in people’s windowsills, stretching like they'd worked hard for a living.

“Don’t scare me like that,” he muttered, even though you couldn’t hear him. Still, he imagined you might giggle at him if you could.

If he were human, you might treat him normally. He wouldn’t have to sneak around like this just to see you.

Life was strange.

He’d lived a long time. Longer than you could imagine. You’d only been alive for a handful of years. Did that make his obsession wrong?

It didn’t feel wrong.

It felt… right.

You were his Koyuki.

Not literally—but close. So close it ached.

He could barely remember her face anymore. He only remembered that he had loved her. And lost her.

He couldn’t lose you too.

He wouldn’t.

He sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at your peaceful face. You weren’t her. You were you. But still… so damn perfect.

Even if you never loved him. Even if you hated him.

You were his.

“I’m sorry,” he said, the word barely audible. Not to you—not really. To her.

The apology slipped out from some aching place he couldn’t name.

He moved closer.

Without thinking, he wrapped his arms gently around you, pulling you into a quiet embrace.

You didn’t wake.

By some miracle, you stayed asleep.

He didn’t know why he was so drawn to you. He didn’t know why the past clung to him in this way.

All he knew was that he was holding you now.

And for a moment, it felt like everything he had lost might just return.

It hurt so damn bad. And yet… he couldn’t stop holding on.

He held you as gently as he could, arms wrapped around your sleeping form like he might fall apart if he let go. Was it relief? Was it grief? Maybe it was both. Maybe it was something else entirely. He wasn’t sure.

You reminded him of Koyuki, but it wasn’t just that.

It was you.

He hadn’t felt grief like this in a long time—if ever. Sympathy, maybe. But true grief? Guilt? That had been buried beneath centuries of blood and darkness.

But now… with you, something had cracked.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Don’t leave me… I’m so sorry.”

The words trembled from his mouth, and tears—real, stinging, human tears—fell. One. Then another. He wiped them away quickly before they could touch you, before they soaked into your mattress.

He didn’t want you to feel that part of him. Not even in sleep.

Gently, reluctantly, he let go. And then he slipped away.

He vanished through the window just as quietly as he had come, fleeing into the night air. He couldn’t cry in front of you. He wouldn’t.

He stood outside, breathing heavily, the cool air doing nothing to steady the war inside his chest.

You were the most beautiful woman he’d ever had the honor of being near.

He didn’t understand it. He didn’t have to. He had seen you—truly seen you. He knew how kind you were, how selfless, how stubborn, how strangely soft when you didn’t have to be.

You were his Koyuki.

But also… you were you.

You had to be his. He needed you to be.

So he would protect you. Even if it meant never speaking to you. Even if you never saw him again.

He would be your silent guardian. Your hidden shadow. Your invisible protector.

Maybe—just maybe—that would be enough. Maybe that would make up for the life he had wasted.

Would that atone for the blood on his hands?

He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure he deserved redemption anyway.

All he knew was that if you ever looked at him and saw something worth loving, he'd be grateful. If not, he’d still guard you from afar. If he could never summon the courage to stand before you, then he’d hum along to your song from outside the window, keeping time with your voice in the dark.

So… has he won?

That wasn’t really the question, was it?

There was no winning here. No end goal. No perfect outcome.

He hadn’t prepared for this. Hadn’t planned, hadn’t strategized like he would in a fight. He didn’t know the rules. He didn’t even want to win.

They say every small step matters on the way to something greater. That everything needs to fit together perfectly to achieve greatness.

And maybe that used to be true. Maybe strength was his only goal once. But all of that changed the night he saw you. The night you unknowingly stepped into his story.

So no—he hasn’t won. But maybe that was okay. Maybe he didn’t need to win. Maybe he didn’t have to be the strongest anymore.

Who knows?

He sure doesn’t.

All he knows is that this odd, twisted, probably unhealthy love he had for you was the most human thing he’d felt in years.

And that was enough.

[irritatedirishfrog]

"𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑, 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐗"

— 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳

CONTENT: how some of the wind breaker boys would react if you told them that you wanted to get pregnant.

[ ᯓ Someone help me PLS! I can barely write. I'm pretty sure that if my lively hood was contingent on making enjoyable NSFW tings, I'd be a goner. This is probably as close as I'm getting to it, SO Y'ALL BE GRATEFUL! ᯓ ]

✓ requested by anon

✓ warning, poorly written work

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ SAKURA was flustered immediately, having no idea what to think. What did you mean you wanted a freaking baby? Like—a real one? The ones that stay in your stomach for nine months before getting an eviction notice? No, that couldn't be what you meant. Why would you ask that? And with him of all people? Were you blind? Have you seen him? He must have misheard you, his subconscious throwing him a curveball yet again.

It had to be that, it would make sense—especially given all the dreams his brain was forcing him to have recently and whatnot. It wouldn't be entirely surprising that the thought came to mind. But still, what?

"... Say that again?" He muttered, silently praying he wasn’t losing it.

"I want to have a baby with you."

His face twisted instantly in silent confusion, and you scowled in response. He looked like he might throw up, but really, he just felt exposed. The way you said that so casually—he wasn’t ready for it, it made him feel all hot. He wasn’t used to hearing words like that out loud. And, well, he had thought about it before. He just forced himself to brush it off as a stupid idea.

Hearing it come from you was shocking to say the least, and he'd rather not think about giving in like that.

“If you don’t like the idea, just say I’m talking out of my ass and we’ll drop it,” you huffed, eyes flicking back down to whatever game you were playing on your phone previously.

... Wait

... What?! What did you mean by that?! You can't just drop some crazy shit like that on his head and then tell him to choose! Were you insane?! What kind of emotional whiplash was that!?

"Huh!?" Sakura blurted, his face burning even redder. The reaction pulled a small smile from you, but you were already distracted again by your screen.

"It's okay."

"W—what's okay!?"

"If you don't want a baby," You chuckled. "I was only thinking about it."

And then it was quiet. The silence made Sakura’s chest tighten with anxiety. You looked unbothered—calm, like you didn’t even care about his response, despite clearly wanting one. But he still wasn’t entirely sure if this was real or just some weird prank.

Would you think he was weird if he said yes right away? If he let you know just how desperate he actually was to give you what you wanted?

He was always a sucker for you, after all. But it was worse than that—he’d quietly caught baby fever a long time before you. Ever since he saw you helping a little lost kid, gently guiding him back to his parents, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you as a mom. The only problem was... he wasn’t sure he’d make a good dad. Should he take it as a sign that you asked him for this first? He isn't sure.

“Why?”

“Hm? Why what?” you asked, glancing up from your phone.

“There… Well, th-there’s a chance that if we had a kid… it’d look a little bit like me, right?” Sakura mumbled, eyes dropping as he tried to hide how nervous he was. He shouldn't be like this, not in front of you.

“Would you really want a baby that kinda looks like a freak?”

You didn’t respond right away. Just blinked at him as he kept his eyes downcast.

You forgot sometimes—how much he struggled with that. The stares, the comments, all because of his differently colored hair and eyes. Traits that made him stand out, often in the worst ways. But you were pretty sure those same traits caught good attention, too. After all, he had friends. He had a place at Bofurin. And—he had you. A pretty girlfriend. Or, at least, you hoped he thought you were pretty.

“…Y’know,” you finally said, turning off your phone and standing up, “I wouldn’t be asking for a baby if I thought you were a freak.”

Sakura closed his eyes, taking a slow, deep breath to steady himself. He shouldn’t be feeling this weird about it. You asked a question—he should’ve just answered. It’s just… he really wanted a baby. But he was too self-conscious to admit it. Too unsure that he’d be good enough. He didn’t think he was even boyfriend material half the time—though you seemed delusional enough to believe he was.

“Honey,” you said gently, “look at me.”

His face burned at the sound of your voice. He barely cracked his eyes open before squeezing them shut again from embarrassment. You were standing in front of him now, your eyes intense enough to swallow him whole. Without a word, you reached out. Your hand touched his, then slowly intertwined your fingers with his.

That simple gesture sent a shiver through his entire body, but he didn’t hesitate to squeeze your hand back, tightly—like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“I love you,” you breathed, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “You know that, right? That’s why I asked. And I think you look perfect.”

“…I… I know. I—I love you too,” Sakura whispered, his voice barely audible.

But his blush had mostly faded now. That had to mean something. You weren’t sure what exactly—but there was something different about him now. A look of quiet determination had settled in his eyes, like he was suddenly planning something.

“What’s wrong? Did I say something?” you asked, raising a brow as he stared past you, seemingly lost in thought.

“Nah… It’s nothing… I think.”

Nope. Definitely something.

But before you could press him on it, he suddenly grabbed your arm and kissed you. Hard. Maybe a little too hard. But enough for you to feel it deep in your chest—a rush of heat flooding through you. He understood what you meant earlier, and this was him answering, in his own, overwhelmed way.

“Do you want a baby right now?” he murmured against your lips, watching with interest as your eyes widened. His usual shy, fumbling self had vanished, replaced with this strange, intense confidence.

“You’d want one too? Really?”

“Yeah, I should be the one asking that. I still can’t believe you want one with me,” he scoffed, kissing you again before pulling away and reaching for his jacket. Though in your defense, you weren't used to him initiating any sort of physical touch either. Apparently it was your turn to get flustered. The blush had returned on his face after her saw yours, but it was softer now—a light, pink hue, no longer boiling red.

“But we’re not doing it here. Your place is less run-down.”

“Does it really matter where we try to have the baby?” you giggled—only to be cut off with another kiss as he grabbed you and tugged you toward the door.

“Hell yeah, it matters. I don’t wanna have a baby here. Now c’mon,” he muttered.

“You’re acting like the baby’s already in there, dummy,” you snickered, poking his cheek and making him flare up all over again. “Maybe I should bring this up more often, huh?”

“Sh-shut up,” he grumbled—but you didn’t miss the soft smile tugging at his lips as the two of you stepped out of his apartment together.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ SUO didn’t believe you at first—he just blinked at you like you were the one who was confused. To be fair, you were drunk. Not just a little tipsy either—scarily intoxicated. Honestly, he was impressed you were still conscious. Technically, it was your fault. But then again, could he really blame you?

"A baby?"

"Yeah! A small one, that's all cute and squishy." You grinned, your words mushing together as you mumbled out some other stuff. "And we can buy the baby a cute little eye patch to match with yours."

You probably didn’t expect your friend to drag you to the sketchiest part of town and then vanish. At least she had the decency to call him afterward, claiming she had to leave for a family emergency. Still, the fact that she left you behind in a place like this made Suo question her legitimacy as your friend.

And you—you hadn’t realized that some of the locals were trying to drug you. All it took was a glass of “expensive wine” that was really just beer spiked with a disturbingly unhealthy amount of sugar followed by all sorts of incapacitating drugs.

“Just to taste,” they’d said, “so a pretty girl like you can give us some advice on how to make the wine better.”

At least that's what the younger man had said had happened, Suo was quick to kick the leaders neck hard enough to knock him out.

You were a little naive, he knew that much. Soft-hearted. You turned into putty in someone’s hands the moment they made you feel special. Even though you were loyal to him, compliments from anyone still made you glow.

“Also, there was this lovely scarf I saw near here, but I didn’t have enough money to buy it!” you rambled, your voice dreamy and slurred, as if you hadn’t just tell him to get you pregnant in the middle of a crowded sidewalk.

Sweet, clueless thing. You were going to be mortified when you remembered all of this tomorrow. Suo, surprisingly, wasn’t embarrassed. He probably should’ve been, but he didn't feel like he was. This was a terrible place to wander around aimlessly, especially when you didn’t know what you were doing. He’d come fully prepared for a full on fight if anyone tried to stop him from retrieving you—so much so that he brought both Sakura and Nirei along for backup.

And now, those poor bastards had to stand there and listen to his girlfriend shamelessly ask him for a baby.

“Please don’t mind her,” Suo said, turning to his friends with a calm smile. “She’ll be fine once she gets some rest.”

"Seriously, what did she even drink?" Sakura muttered, face beet red as he stole another glance at you. “Was it just alcohol or pure ethanol?”

Sakura was clearly flustered by your drunken boldness. The way you’d said it had sounded almost romantic, which only made it worse. Meanwhile, Nirei was grinning like a kid at a comedy show, clearly finding the whole thing adorable.

“Hayato, take me home, please,” you whined, pulling away from his hand to wrap your arms around him in a hug. “I’m tired, I’m hungry, and my feet hurt!”

Suo just smiled gently, his voice calm and certain. “Don’t worry. We’re going home.”

He then adjusted his hold on you slightly, one arm steady around your waist as you leaned more of your weight into him, your head nestled lazily against his shoulder. You were heavy in that drunk, warm way that only made people more pliable. Almost like a sleeping cat.

"Anyway, we’ll leave you two to it. I don't think she needs an audience right now.” Nirei gave a two-fingered salute, still grinning ear to ear. “She’s wild when she isn't sober, man. It's funny, just know that we're praying for you.”

Suo nodded. “Thanks for coming. Get home safe.”

"Text us if you need backup!" Nirei added over his shoulder as he and Sakura started down the sidewalk.

Then for a moment, it was quiet. Just the two of you now, standing under the halo of a flickering streetlamp. You swayed slightly, then yawned like a baby bear, your grip on him tightening again.

“Home,” you mumbled. “I like our bed. It smells like you.”

His heart squeezed a little. Damn you. Even drunk off your mind, you somehow knew exactly how to say things that made it impossible for him to stay annoyed.

"Of course, princess."

You sighed against his shoulder. “Hayato,” you mumbled, almost too soft to hear. “Do you think the scarf’s still there?”

He glanced down at you, your hair sticking slightly to your forehead, your lips parted just enough to let the question float out like a drifting balloon.

“I’ll get you a scarf,” he promised. “Not from here though. A prettier one. And something warmer.”

“Mmm,” you hummed. “Make sure it’s bright. The woman at the fabric tent said that bright colors will look good on me.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I'll do that.”

You didn’t respond, just tightened your arms around him like you might dissolve if you let go. He didn’t rush you either. You'd trip once in a while over your own feet, muttering curses under your breath, but he'd catch you every time—making sure you were stable before continuing. He was a very patient person after all.

Suo looked down for a moment when you leaned more against him. You were still latched onto him like a human koala, your face smushed into his chest.

“Mmm...you feel like warm bread,” you murmured.

He snorted. “I feel like sweat and stress.”

“You always feel nice to me,” you mumbled, completely oblivious to how that sounded.

Suo shifted you a little to help you walk without tripping over your own feet. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get moving before you fall asleep standing up.”

You trudged beside him, holding onto his arm, your heels clicking unevenly against the pavement. Every few steps, you’d either hum something off-key or dramatically sigh, like a tragic heroine in a play.

"So, did you think about it?"

He blinked, looking down at you. “About what?”

“The baby thing.” You looked up with eyes too wide and honest for someone who could barely say the alphabet right now. “I think you’d be a good dad. You’re good at being kind to people and protecting me.”

Suo laughed—actually laughed, the sound low and rare. “That’s your criteria?”

“Mhm. You’re also nice to animals and you never forget to bring me snacks. So can we have a baby now?”

“You’re drunk, so no.”

“Just because I'm drunk doesn't mean I don't mean it.” You whined, almost on the verge of tears already.

He sighed, but there was no irritation in it—just that soft kind of exhale people give when they know they’ve lost. Because he had been secretly thinking about it ever since you said it. They always say that a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts, or something like that.

So, had you been thinking about this for a while then?

"So you have to promise me something then," You yawned. "When I'm not drunk anymore, that we'll have a baby."

"I have to?"

"Yeah! Pinky promise." You held up your hand, poking out your pinky finger for him.

Suo sighed, propping you up more against him as he got to the front of their house. Something in him wanted to agree, mostly due to the fact that you had riled him up. But even so, he had enough discipline to keep himself in check... You just looked so damn cute though.

Now he wanted a small baby that was all squishy and cute.

"I won't promise that," Suo started, grabbing your hand before kissing the back of it. "But I promise that when you're better in the morning, if you still want a baby, we'll make a baby."

"... Really?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind being a baby daddy." Suo kissed the top of your head. "I'd mean you'd stay with me, wouldn't it?"

"I'd stay with you anyway." You simply giggled, hugging him tighter and warming his heart.

"Alright, come on now. We need to get you to bed."

You giggled as he opened the door to your house and helped you in. “Hayatoooo… you love me, right?”

“Unfortunately.”

“You dooo!”

He sat you down on a stool in the hallway and a second later, shut the front door with a click. Though his smile lingered.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ NIREI felt his face grow warm, stumbling over his words as he tried to process what you’d just said. A baby? That had to be a joke—something ripped straight from a fever dream after getting his ass handed to him.

“Come again?” he blinked, bewildered.

“I want a baby.” You shrugged casually, your cheeks tinged pink, though your smile stayed bright. "Can we try now? Or should I wait until you're not busy?"

...Now?

Nirei flushed even deeper, his skin nearly as hot as the fiery yellow strands framing his cute, startled face. His hazel eyes widened—like a deer caught in headlights. Sure, he got flustered sometimes, but no one got under his skin the way you did.

“D-did you just say—?” he stammered, waving his hands like he could somehow cool the heat rising in his cheeks. “I don’t— I mean, I do want one, but—did you mean now? Like, right now? That’s—”

You cut him off with a soft smile, slipping your hand into his and stepping closer. Leaning in, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, feeling the warmth of his blush bloom beneath your lips.

“Akihiko,” you whispered, using his name like a secret. As always, he gasped quietly at the sound of it. No matter how long you'd been together, he never quite got used to hearing his name from you.

“I want a baby with you,” you murmured.

You pressed another kiss, this time to the center of his brow, as your arms curled around him, pulling him closer—closer still.

Nirei took a steadying breath, like he was bracing for impact, then gently tugged you even tighter against him, holding you as if he never wanted to let go. The two of you both had acknowledged that in the future, you'd want a baby. However, you've both been kind of ignoring anything past that.

“I want a baby with you too,” he mumbled, “but... don’t you think it’ll make your parents angry? They don't really like me..."

He was about to say more, but you silenced him with another kiss.

You smiled against his skin, feeling the way he trembled slightly in your arms. You knew he worried too much, especially about your parents—but none of that mattered to you. Not when he looked at you like this. Not when his arms around you felt more like home than anything else. Your parent's were just gonna have to suck it.

“They’ll live,” you whispered. “I love you. That’s enough for me.. They don't get a say in this, they'll have to get over themselves.”

You bit back a laugh and leaned in, brushing your nose against his. “Unless you’re getting cold feet, Akihiko?"

He made a soft, scandalized noise. “N-no! I’m not— I would never—”

You grinned mischievously, tightening your hold around him like you might never let go. “Good. Because I was serious about starting now.”

Nirei swallowed hard, face practically glowing at this point. “You’re gonna be the death of me...” he muttered, but the way he smiled—nervous and so full of love—gave him away completely.

Nirei’s breath hitched, and for a second, he just stood there, soaking in the plan and ignoring the fact that your father might come after his throat. Slowly, he pulled back just enough to look at you, searching your face like he was memorizing it, every little detail that made you you. His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

“I love you too,” he said, voice rough with emotion. “More than anything.”

You leaned into his touch, your heart swelling, and for a moment, neither of you said anything at all. The silence between you wasn't uncomfortable either, it felt right for some reason.

Then Nirei chuckled—a soft, nervous little sound. "I, um... I should probably take a shower first," he said, cheeks flushing again. "I kinda smell like I lost a fight to a brick wall."

You laughed quietly, threading your fingers through his hair. "Fine. But hurry up. I'm not changing my mind."

“I’ll be quick,” he promised, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before practically sprinting off, leaving you standing there, grinning like an idiot. And for the first time in a long while, he didn't look like he was frustrated with anything.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ UMEMIYA agreed immediately — almost too eagerly. He wasn’t even sure what came over him; something about the way you asked had him ready to jump at the chance. Unfortunately for you, any hope of keeping things low-key was dashed almost immediately. Despite your best efforts to keep the conversation quiet, Umemiya talked like one of those front desk clerks at the bank with the mini-microphones — just determined to announce your personal business to anyone within earshot.

"Hajime?! Shh!" you hissed, scrambling to cover his mouth with your hand. The two of you sat cramped together at a little table in Kotoha’s diner. It wasn’t packed by any means, but there were enough people lingering around — enough that even the tiniest bit of gossip would spread like wildfire. You could already hear it in your head: Baby out of wedlock? How irresponsible.

Umemiya whined against your hand, his eyebrows scrunching up like a kicked puppy before he pried your hand away — though he didn’t just move it; he laced his fingers through yours and held it there stubbornly.

"I don’t care if people hear," he said, voice loud enough to make you wince. "And you shouldn’t either! Everyone already knows we’re dating—"

"Dating and becoming parents are two completely different things, you moron!" you whisper-yelled, yanking your hand out of his with an exaggerated scowl. You were about two seconds away from socking him in the chest — not that it would do anything besides hurt your own hand.

Umemiya’s grip on your hand tightened, his voice softening in a way that you weren't expecting. He could be such a clown sometimes that you forgot just how serious and genuine he was as well.

"I mean it," he spoke, staring at you as if you were the only person in the world. "If it's with you... I don't care how hard it gets. I'll do anything. I want to start a family with you too."

You froze, heart tripping over itself at the sudden shift in mood. For a second, you didn’t know whether to throw a punch or start crying. But you could tell even now, that this would definitely be a topic of conversation in town. You didn't want that. This dumb ass is always embarrassing you, and yet you wanted to kiss him. Instead, you yanked your hand away again, harsher this time.

"You're such an idiot!" you snapped, pushing your chair back with a screech against the floor. Heads turned — of course they turned — but you were too flustered to care. Umemiya immediately stood up with you, confused and not having a clue what it was that suddenly irked you.

"I don't need you getting all dramatic about it! You don't even know what you're agreeing to!" you hissed, grabbing your jacket off the back of the chair before he could. Your chest felt too tight, and you didn’t know if it was anger, nervousness, or something else. Maybe all of it. Probably just love, love was always hard to understand.

"Wait, just hold on!" Umemiya gasped as he was about ready to try and hug you until you pushed him away, storming toward the door without a second glance.

The bell above the diner door jingled as you shoved it open and disappeared onto the street, leaving Umemiya standing there, looking like he had just been cursed out at in the middle of Kotoha’s diner.

Kotoha, who’d been wiping down the counter, didn't miss a beat. She sauntered over to his table, arms crossed, a knowing look on her face. This fighting man was crazy, he didn't understand his girlfriend at all.

"You," she said, flicking him in the forehead hard enough to make him wince, "are the dumbest person I've ever met. And I know at least three people who thought microwaving foil was a good idea, two of them being your friends."

Umemiya rubbed his forehead, practically sulking. "I didn’t mean to mess it up... I know she asked me to be here to talk to me, I just didn't realize that she felt having a kid was so serious." he muttered.

"Yeah, well, having a kid is serious and you did mess it up." Kotoha leaned on the back of a chair, staring him down. "You can't just throw around big words like that without thinking. You scared her off, dummy. Plus, you need to act more responsible, a baby can't have a baby."

"What do I do now?" He groaned, slumping against the wall, making a scene yet again in front of the few remaining customers left in the diner.

Kotoha simply shook her head before smirking, thank God almighty the two of them weren't actually related by blood.

"First? Get your sorry butt to the store and buy some chocolate. Good chocolate. Not that cheap gas station stuff either. Maybe get her a small flower bouquet too." She straightened up, pointing at the door like she was kicking him out. "Then, you’re gonna apologize. For being stupid. And for making a scene in my diner, by the way."

"Right. Chocolate. Apologize. Got it." Umemiya pushed the door open with a loud sigh, still not fully understanding, but taking Kotoha's words to heart.

Kotoha shook her head with a half-smile as he stumbled toward the door. Umemiya may never understand you fully, or not get on your nerves from time to time, but at the very least, he meant well.

"And make sure to smile after the fact," she muttered. "you're gonna need it."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ KAJI thought this might be the first time he was truly at a loss for words. He wasn’t one to talk much anyway, but when he did speak, he usually had a way of getting straight to the point. Efficient. Sharp. But now, he was just staring at you—expressionless—rolling the lollipop in his mouth like it could somehow settle the nerves buzzing in his chest.

He had even taken off his headphones so he could hear you clearly. Now, he kind of wished he hadn’t.

A baby? What for? Why? Were you serious? That was stupid. No—he was stupid. Stupid for even being considered. He wasn’t the guy you chose to parent with. Absolutely not. He had anger issues—barely managed to control himself when it came to discipline. The only thing he really knew how to do well was fight, and that sure as hell didn’t seem like a skill worth passing on to a damn baby, at least not now.

He was so quiet—so unnervingly still—that you started to wonder if maybe he hadn't heard you. Honestly, that could’ve been the case. You did tend to talk lower than you meant to, a bad habit really.

"...D-Did you hear me?" you asked, voice cracking a little at the end.

"Yeah... But why?" Kaji asked flatly, pulling the lollipop from his mouth with a soft pop He unintentionally made you want to evaporate on the spot, his words too emotionless, almost mechanical.

"Oh! Uh, no reason, really. Um… shoot, sorry. Forget I said anything."

Shit. He didn’t mean to make it sound like he was judging you. He was just… caught off guard. He hadn’t realized that 'baby fever' was, like, actually a thing.

He scrambled to his feet too fast and nearly rolled his ankle trying to stop you from leaving, catching your wrist before you could walk out. He forgot sometimes that you were a bit sensitive—that it took a lot for you to speak your mind. But you trusted him enough to do it. That meant something.

"Sorry," he murmured. "That's not what I meant. I just meant... why now? I’ve never heard you bring up babies out of nowhere like that."

"U-uhm, well, I just, uh—" you stammered, face practically on fire. "I… it’s your fault."

"...My fault." Kaji blinked, eyes narrowing as he tried to figure out what you meant. But whatever logic you were hiding behind didn't make any sense. Then he let out a short laugh at your completely serious tone, though it was more so out of confusion than him being amused.

"What did I do?" he asked, showing genuine bafflement. "How is it my fault?"

"I saw you hanging out with some toddler at the playground." you whispered, cheeks burning hotter and looking at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

For a second, Kaji just stared at you like you’d grown another head.

"Wait... You’re serious?"

"... Well, not anymore."

"You wanna have a kid because you saw me making funny faces at some toddler?" he asked, eyebrows lifting.

You flushed, trying to wiggle your wrist out of his grip, though he didn’t let go.

"Y-You weren’t just making faces! You were... you were good with them!" you protested. "You were patient and you weren’t even grumpy about it, and he really liked you!"

Kaji made a low sound in his throat—something between a scoff and a groan—and dragged a hand down his face.

"God," he muttered. "You have baby fever, a made up sickness by the way."

You gave a wounded squeak and tried to yank your hand free again, but he caught it easily, tugging you a little closer instead. Close enough that you could see the embarrassed pink creeping up his neck, just under his collar.

"You’ve been thinking about it this much just ‘cause of that?" he said, eyes flicking down to your lips for a second before snapping back up. His voice dropped lower, teasing, but still a little rough. "Should I be worried you’re already pickin’ out baby names or something?"

"N-No! I haven't thought that much about it yet!" you sputtered.

Okay, you had maybe thought of one or two, but you were absolutely not going to admit that now.

He grinned—smirked, actually—the kind of smile he only pulled when he knew he had you cornered.

"You sure?" he said, leaning in just enough to make your heart hammer painfully against your ribs. "You look guilty."

You slapped his chest half-heartedly, face burning hotter. "I am not guilty," you grumbled, trying to shove him away. He didn’t budge. If anything, he looked way too entertained by the whole thing.

For a moment, you thought he might keep teasing you forever. But then, Kaji’s grin faded a little. He looked down at you—really looked—and something in his expression softened. His thumb brushed lightly over your wrist, almost absentminded.

"...If it’s you," he said quietly, "I don’t mind."

You blinked, stunned into silence.

"I’m not saying I know what the hell I’m doing," he went on, voice rough and a little unsure. "I’m not, like... dad material or anything. Probably wouldn’t win any awards."

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, glancing away.

"But if you want that… if you want me to do that with you…" He shrugged, like he was pretending it didn’t mean as much as it did. "Then yeah. I’ll try."

Your throat tightened. You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but the words caught. What were you supposed to say? Kaji made it sound like he'd practically give you the world if he could.

Kaji saw the way you struggled, and to save you the trouble, he leaned in and bumped his forehead against yours with a soft thud.

"Just... don’t start showing me tiny shoes and baby clothes yet," he muttered, barely hiding the laugh in his voice. "I need, like, a week to mentally prepare."

You snorted and shoved at him again, and this time, he let you. Mostly because he was grinning like an idiot the whole way, once again sucking on his lollipop but keeping his headphones off.

[irritatedirishfrog]

So... To that one random dude or dudette down in the comments of one of CoryxKenshin's videos, talking about how,

"He probably played that shyt (RE4) off-camera, him and his long-ass breaks- 🤓,"

You can kindly, and with all the respect in the world, like any true Samurai would do in this situation, suck it. Kay? :)

Suck it. Suck it so hard. Suck it like a Dyson vacuum on full max mode. You Neanderthal cosplayin' ass. You prehistoric-looking, basement-dwelling, Bluetooth-disconnected goblin.

And guess what? He even gave us RE: Village after TWO years. You look goofy now. Imagine doubting someone who gave us a manga, and fulfilled a promise from two years ago — even if it took a minute. Couldn't be me, not in 2025. Not even on a side quest.

Cory literally had proof that RE4 was coming in the RE: Village video as well! He just hit you with the most patient Uno reverse card ever made.

He STILL came through like the Samurai he is. And you doubt him with the pride of a troglodyte?

So yeah, to that person:

🎶 SUCK IT ! ♩♬♩

[irritatedirishfrog]

"𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓"

𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘶

In which, Suguru is asked to do the hill test, and he's not sure how to explain why he doesn’t want to do it—the same test Shoko and Gojo already tried to get him to do with you. Now you’re all worried about it, and it’s frustrating, but don’t worry—he’ll definitely make it up to you. He wouldn’t mind carrying you anywhere.

After all, he's always been one of those 'I'll literally carry you through life' type of guys anyway.

──────────

WARNING!: Reader is described as being chubby, if you dislike that, then please ignore this oneshot. Thanks :)

──────────

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

You laughed lightly at the sight in front of you, watching poor Suguru get bombarded by Shoko and Gojo as they tried to convince him—force him, really—to carry you up the hill.

Ever since you all became second years, Gojo and Shoko had been trying to get you and Suguru together. Now, as third years, they'd finally succeeded. Well... to some extent.

The thing was, you and Suguru were technically courting. You went on small dates when time allowed, sat close when you could, exchanged shy glances. You hadn’t even kissed yet, and hugging was still a relatively new thing. Progress was slow. Painfully slow—at least, according to Gojo and Shoko.

But that didn’t stop either of them from trying to speed things along.

Gojo made it his mission to share every one of Suguru’s secrets with you, proudly offering up anything the guy liked. Shoko, naturally, did the same for Suguru. On top of that, the two of them would practically take on any responsibility you or Suguru had, just to give you both some alone time. They shipped it hard, but the two of you were—much to their frustration—annoyingly cautious.

“It’s just a test. It’s not that bad,” Shoko said, cigarette between her lips as she tried to convince Suguru to give in.

You had all met at the park for a picnic, just waiting for Yu and Nanami to arrive. You weren’t even sure how the conversation had started, but you didn’t really mind. If anything, it was kind of funny.

“Aw, c’mon, man! It’d be so cute! It’s literally a ‘boyfriend-carries-girlfriend-up-a-hill’ test!” Gojo whined, grabbing Suguru’s shoulders and shaking him like that would suddenly make him agree. “You’ve done those couple-y tests before that bring people closer together!”

“I already said no,” Suguru replied, unimpressed.

“You’re no fun!” Gojo huffed, then dramatically sprinted over to you. “Tell him to carry you up the hill like the cute princess you are!” he said, wrapping his arms around you from behind and leaning his full weight against your back.

“I’m not going to do that,” you said with a small smile. “If he doesn’t want to, I’m not going to force him.”

Gojo stuck his tongue out at you before collapsing on the grass like the oversized toddler he was.

“Hey, it’s not like we’re actually dating—”

“But you and he both know you like each other, so I don’t get why you two keep playing this game,” Shoko muttered, exhaling smoke.

You let out a quiet sigh. Shoko had told you that plenty of times before. She was always calling you out for being hesitant when it came to this whole relationship thing—and you couldn’t really blame her. It was frustrating.

It was just… you didn’t want to mess this up. Suguru was one of the few people who had ever actually returned your feelings.

“C’mon, Suguru! It’s not like she’s that heavy!”

“Hey, stop pestering him,” you scolded, giving Gojo’s leg a light kick—even though, to be fair, he hadn’t really said anything that wrong.

Well, okay. He had said something wrong. He shouldn’t have brought up your weight. You weren’t that heavy—you were just... a bit big. Your body was built like a literal box. Sturdy. Solid. Thankfully, God had thrown in a few curves here and there to help soften the blow, giving your thick frame at least some kind of shape.

“Look,” Suguru muttered, clearly embarrassed, “I’m fine with the other dumb tests—like peeling an orange for her or whatever—but this doesn’t have to get physical.”

“Yes, it does! She’s gonna be your girlfriend sooner or later, right?!” Gojo yelled, suddenly sitting up way too fast from where he’d been lying on the grass.

“Whatever. He hasn’t passed this test yet,” Shoko teased, watching Suguru closely, waiting to see if he’d change his mind.

It was surprising when he didn’t. Instead, he quietly went to sit by the picnic blanket under the shade of a tree, offering no witty comeback, no reluctant agreement. Just silence.

“Huh… that’s a red flag,” Shoko mumbled to Gojo, raising an eyebrow.

“Guys, stop!” you gasped, caught between wanting to laugh and feeling awkward. The whole “test” thing was starting to make you uncomfortable.

“Hey, I agree, and I’m Suguru’s best friend,” Gojo said, flopping dramatically onto his side. “It’s not even about whether he can do it—it’s about whether he’s willing to try. The offer is what matters. Like, it’s the gesture, y’know?”

You were about to argue back when a familiar voice gave you the perfect escape.

“Hey Nanami! Where’s Yu?” you called out, turning your full attention to the newly arrived blond.

“He’ll be here soon,” Nanami replied. “He went to grab a few more snacks.”

“Alright then, you wanna play some basketball?”

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

Jeez.

Why did your brain have to suck so much? It’s not like you were annoyed. Or offended.

It’s not like Suguru had even done anything wrong to begin with. Hell, it had happened almost a week ago.

Honestly, you blamed Shoko and Gojo. They should have known better than to bring up some random couples test when everyone was just supposed to be hanging out. Not every gathering needed to revolve around you and Suguru.

You sat on the school steps, resting your head in your hand, lost in thought.

You hated how your mind overthought everything. Like, couldn’t your reasoning just take a damn break? It wasn’t like Suguru not wanting to carry you up a hill meant something deeper. It didn’t have to mean anything.

He probably didn’t have a specific reason. Maybe he just didn’t feel like it. Or maybe—maybe—he couldn’t actually carry you. The hill was steep, and you weren’t exactly light.

“Hey.” Suguru’s voice cut through your thoughts, his hand waving gently in front of your face.

“…Oh. Hi.”

“You were spacing out,” he said plainly, settling down next to you once he had your attention.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” He smiled faintly, mimicking the way you were sitting—elbow propped, hand to cheek. He always did that for some reason. Maybe it was teasing, or maybe it was his weird version of affection.

“I was wondering if you wanted to take a walk with me?”

“I’d like that,” you replied, standing up and heading down the steps with him.

That was pretty much what the two of you did all the time. You either ate together, worked on homework, or just sat around. Sometimes you talked. Sometimes you didn’t. And even though it had only been a couple of months, it was clear the both of you were dragging your feet when it came to this whole relationship thing.

“Hey… are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“You keep zoning out. I was calling you again. Is something wrong?”

“Oh. No, I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.” You paused, then added, “Are you hungry by any chance?”

“…Not really. Why?”

“I’m just hungry.”

“You wanna go get something?” Suguru asked, stopping to offer you his hand.

“No, it’s fine.”

He gave you a deadpan look—completely serious, like his face alone was calling you out on your nonsense. He didn’t even need to say a word; his expression was already judging your entire thought process.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked, trying to stifle a laugh.

“…Why don’t you want to go eat if you’re hungry?”

“I just don’t like eating by myself,” you wheezed, half-laughing, half-dying inside.

“I’ll eat with you. You can just ask, I don’t mind,” Suguru replied, his lips curling into a tiny smile.

“But I don’t want to make you eat if you’re not—”

“Fine. I’m going to buy some food,” he cut in, taking your hand and continuing the walk like he hadn’t just changed his entire stance in two seconds.

“You’re gonna what?” you asked, baffled.

“Yeah, I’m hungry.”

“But you just said—”

“I know what I said. But now that I think about it, I’m starving,” Suguru replied casually, pulling you along as if that solved everything.

“Right…”

“…”

“…”

“…Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

“What’re you thinking about?”

You didn’t answer right away. Just stared off into space with your head resting on the desk—your mind, once again, stuck on that stupid test. Why the hell was that even still bothering you?

“Hellooo?”

Suguru called out, still getting no response. He reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear so he could see your eyes better. The two of you were alone in the classroom, which was lucky, because he clearly wanted to talk about whatever was dragging you down.

“Oh, sorry. What were you saying?” you asked, finally snapping out of it. He didn’t look worried, exactly, but there was a flicker of concern in his expression that made your chest tighten.

“I… can’t really remember,” he admitted, “but—is something wrong?”

“Huh? No, nothing’s wrong. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just…” He hesitated. “You’ve been kinda out of it this whole week. If something’s bothering you… please tell me. Or someone. I want to help.”

Your eyes widened slightly. He looked like he was stressing over this, and that made you feel even worse. You didn’t want him worrying, especially not over you.

“Jeez, I’m sorry. It’s really nothing I should be thinking about anyway. It’s stupid.”

“But it’s important enough that it’s been taking up your attention,” Suguru said softly, meeting your eyes.

You sighed, clicking your tongue in frustration at yourself. You didn’t want to say it. It was stupid. But it was clearly eating at you.

“Do you remember when Gojo and Shoko brought up that couple’s test?”

“Which one?” Suguru chuckled.

“The one at the picnic.”

“…Oh. The hill thing? Like two weeks ago?”

“Yeah.”

“What about it?”

You puffed your cheeks out in frustration, trying to find the least embarrassing way to word it. Mental gymnastics. Your brain’s favorite hobby.

“It shouldn’t be bothering me, but… is there a reason you didn’t want to carry me up the hill?”

“I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

“…Embarrass me?” you echoed, blinking. “How would you have embarrassed me?”

Suguru stared at you for a beat, confused. Clearly not expecting that reaction. Then he laughed—softly, kindly—and stood up, positioning himself in front of you like he was getting serious.

“Okay… how do I even say this…” he muttered to himself, scratching the back of his neck. “The thing is… I didn’t know if I could actually carry you up the hill. And that’s not a bad thing! Because—uh—you’re my type.”

“…Really?” you asked, tilting your head at him.

“Yeah! And like—if I can’t carry you, that’s… that’s a good thing. Y’know?”

“Right… because?”

“Well… because you’re… thick. And I like thick girls. And I’m not trying to sound like a jerk or make it weird, I just—ugh, shoot.”

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. He was trying so hard to be clear without sounding offensive, but you understood. You really did.

“You’re absolutely beautiful, gorgeous, really cute—and curvy. Curvy like a damn lava lamp—”

You burst out laughing, loud and sudden, and Suguru started laughing too, unable to hold it in. That ridiculous metaphor shouldn’t have worked—but it did.

And in that moment, even through the laughter, he still looked at you like he wanted to make sure everything was okay. That you really, truly understood.

And you did.

“Just a ditzy, bubblegum baddie—”

“Stop!” you wheezed, clinging to your desk like it was the only thing keeping you upright.

“But you get what I mean, right?” Suguru said, flailing his hands like he could physically make the words sound better. “Like… how big is the hill? Because the girls I like—I'm gonna be out of breath. But that’s not a bad thing! That’s a good thing! And I’m trying to explain that because when I look at you,” he added, hopping onto the desk in front of you, “and I’m like, ‘She’d be hard to carry with that thing’—and I mean that with all the respect my heart can possibly muster, okay? It’s like… oh dammit!”

And now you were both just losing it.

You bent over, absolutely dying at how badly he was explaining his feelings, while Suguru covered his face with one hand, his laugh more I-want-to-evaporate than joyful. But he was smiling too.

“In my mind,” he continued breathlessly, “not being able to carry you up a hill is a good thing. I know it sounds weird—most boyfriends want the opposite—but I like you just the way you are.”

You finally calmed down, still giggling, and got up to hug him. Suguru hugged you back instantly, his arms warm and secure around you. He still wasn’t sure that was the best way to explain himself, but hopefully, it helped. Hopefully, it fixed whatever had been bothering you.

“That’s why I said no to the test,” he mumbled into your hair, “because some guys—guys like me—we want to struggle carrying our girlfriend up a random-ass hill.”

“So… you’ll be my boyfriend that can’t carry me up the hill?” you teased, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I’d like to be your boyfriend that can’t carry you up the hill. Probably a huge red flag.”

“No, it’s not. And if it is, then I’ll be a huge red flag with you.” You smiled, doing little jazz hands in front of your face. “Honestly, I’m just glad. I thought you didn’t want to carry me because you didn’t find me attractive.”

“Thanks,” he said softly, “but I do find you attractive. I’m really sorry. Next time, I’ll definitely carry you up the hill.”

“You don’t have to,” you assured him. “What you said was actually… kind of endearing. I get it now.”

“Yeah, but now I want to.”

“…Really? You want to carry me?”

“Yep,” Suguru grinned. “So next time we’re at that park, I’m taking you all the way to the top.”

He stood up, held out his arms, and said the one thing you didn’t expect.

“In fact… why don’t I carry you now?”

“…Wait, what? Why?”

“I want to make it up to you. I didn’t realize it bothered you that much. I’m very attracted to you, and I want to carry you.”

He didn’t lower his arms.

“It’s okay, really—”

“I know it’s okay. But can I still carry you? Please?”

“…Sure.” The word left your mouth before your brain caught up. A second later, Suguru had you in his arms—bridal style—and you were very aware of how close your face was to his. The angle made it even worse. Why was he so pretty from below?

“Wait—where are you going?”

“I’m walking until I can’t.”

“What?! Suguru, you don’t have to—”

“Shush. I’m gonna carry you. And, I’m gonna show everyone else.”

“What?!”

“Yep. I’m carrying you. I’m sorry you thought I didn’t want to. I did. I just didn’t want to embarrass you. Guess you like being embarrassed, huh?”

“Suguru!” you whined, trying to cover your face as he strolled through the school. A few students looked over, confused—or amused—including Yu, who passed by mid-run.

“Hey, so… are you guys, like, together now? Or is this just a really close friendship thing?”

“Me and Y/N are dating.”

“Oh. Cute.” Yu gave a thumbs up and kept moving, probably off to tell people something they all already knew.

You groaned, covering your face again as Suguru kept walking like it was nothing. He didn’t care if you were a little embarrassed. He just wanted you to know he meant everything in the best way.

“I like you a lot, y’know that?”

“…Yeah. I know that.”

“Can you say it back?”

You hesitated, heart racing. Then you pulled your hands away, cheeks burning, and smiled up at him.

“I like you too.”

“What the hell?” Gojo shouted from down the hall, clearly feeling like he had missed the entire plot. “I don’t even remember seeing them hold hands!”

“They’re so cute,” Shoko added, teasing. “Gojo, take a picture!”

You groaned louder this time, hiding again as Suguru just laughed.

“Suguru, put me down.”

“Can I carry you a little bit longer?”

“…Fine.” you muttered.

You could afford to indulge him for a little while longer.

Besides, you decided—being held by Suguru? Yeah… you liked it.

[irritatedirishfrog]

MY ROMAN EMPIRE IS, that when Himeno’s sister came to visit Aki, his reaction was so intense because she wasn’t just a sibling—but Himeno’s twin. And not a single person can convince me otherwise.

Just imagine the weight of that moment. The air in the room must have grown thick, the world tilting slightly off balance as Aki laid eyes on her. A face so familiar yet belonging to someone else. A voice that wasn’t quite the same, but close enough to stir the ghost of a memory he couldn’t bear to relive just yet.

It makes his reaction even more devastating. It’s not just grief—it’s the cruelest déjà vu, bittersweet and gut-wrenching all at once.

Himiko isn’t entirely sure what to do as she steps inside. She’s never been the type to express remorse—not outwardly, at least. She’s always kept her emotions locked away, tucked behind a carefully built wall.

Even with the constant motion around her—nurses hurrying from one room to another, patients shuffling through the halls, the hum of Tokyo’s relentless energy pressing in from outside—she feels detached. Removed. Like a bystander in a place she doesn’t belong.

She’s only been to Tokyo, what, three times? This makes the fourth, and somehow, she’s never felt more out of place than she does now.

Taking a breath, she tightens her grip on the bag in her hands. It shouldn’t feel this heavy, yet it does. Inside are letters—just paper, really—yet the weight they carry is immeasurable. They’re the last words of her sister, now gone.

She had promised Himeno, just last week, that she’d visit when she had the chance.

She promised.

Now, to atone for breaking that promise, she’s here—to meet a man she’s only ever known through ink on a page and the distant murmur of phone calls. Her sister spoke of him often, but Himiko has never met him. Not once.

Would he even want to see her? Maybe. Maybe not. It doesn’t matter. All she knows is guilt—the kind that sinks into her bones, the kind that festers in the spaces where love should have been. She hadn’t spent enough time with Himeno, the girl who had always been braver than her.

Her older sister, if only by minutes, had vanished from this world without a trace. The only remnants left might exist in the memories of the man she’s come to find.

Aki Hayakawa. The only image she has of him being from an old photo out of a bunch Himeno had mailed home. A blurred camera shot, barely in focus—short hair, blue eyes. A stranger, yet the closest thing to a link to her sister that she has left.

Himiko was afraid—what if this went horribly wrong? What if her emotions got the best of her, if frustration or grief twisted into something ugly? Worse, what if Himeno’s partner got angry with her?

The thought made her stomach tighten. It was always like this—constant reminders of how much braver Himeno had been. The realization never left her. Himeno had always been stronger, better, the one who could take on the world without hesitation.

That’s why she was perfect for this life. A devil hunter, a member of Public Safety in one of Japan’s largest cities. She didn’t need anyone to hold her hand. She didn’t need reassurance.

Himiko could never do that. She wouldn’t even dare.

Taking a shaky breath, she approached the elevator, her grip tightening on the bag in her hands. The front desk attendant had given her Aki’s room number, and now there was nowhere to go but forward. The elevator chimed softly, a delicate tune before the doors slid shut, lifting her toward her destination.

Would Aki even want to read Himeno’s letters?

For all she knew, it would only reopen wounds, dragging him back into misery. And yet, something in her urged her to bring them. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was a desperate attempt to keep her sister’s voice alive, even in ink.

Himiko hadn’t known Himeno would die so soon. But the words scrawled in those letters betrayed something—a subtle, lingering anxiety, like a shadow she hadn’t noticed until it was too late.

She should have visited her.

The elevator doors slid open.

Two figures stood on the other side, blocking her path.

The first was a girl with pinkish-blonde hair, strange, piercing eyes, and horns protruding from her head. A devilish grin curled her lips, wild and mischievous. Beside her stood a boy who, at first glance, looked ordinary—until she noticed the sharpness of his teeth. Blond hair, an unruly mess, and the same uniform as the girl beside him.

They weren’t what she expected.

And yet, somehow, they fit right in with the unease settling in her chest.

“…Woah.” The blond-haired boy mumbled, his gaze locking onto Himiko. He had never in his life seen someone who looked exactly like someone else before.

This woman—she looked just like Himeno.

And yet, she wasn’t.

Denji hadn’t even known Himeno had a twin. Seeing this face, so familiar yet undeniably different, sent a strange twist through his chest. It only reminded him of the girl who had called herself his first friend right before she died—the girl he hadn’t even cried for.

That realization made him feel even worse.

The other female, however, didn’t seem to care. She strode straight into the elevator, paying no mind to the familiar face standing before them.

Himiko tilted her head slightly as she looked at Denji, hesitant.

“Hi… Uh, name’s Denji,” he said with a small chuckle, though it was more from confusion than amusement.

“Nice to meet you… Um, sorry, but I have to get past you.” Himiko offered a small, tired smile before slipping past him.

“Denji! I thought thou portrayed to know where we’re going?!”

“Yeah, I do, Power. Don’t rush me, I already said Makima wants to see us,” Denji scoffed, reaching into his basket to grab another apple.

“Hearsay,” the girl—Power—teased, which immediately devolved into loud bickering between the two as the elevator doors slid shut.

Himiko barely had time to process the strange duo before the exhausted sighs of nearby nurses reached her ears. She could only assume these two had a reputation for being a nuisance on this floor.

Not that it mattered much. Not when she was now standing in front of Aki Hayakawa's door.

She took a breath, reaching for the doorknob. The cool metal met her fingertips—yet she didn’t turn it.

Her stomach twisted.

She didn’t want to do this. She wished her father could have come in her place, but that wouldn’t be fair. He was too sick to travel, and someone had to be here.

So why was she so scared?

It was just Himeno’s old partner. It was the considerate thing to check on him, to see if he was doing okay.

Right?

Before she could gather the nerve to knock, the door opened.

Two other people were stepping out, pausing when they saw her.

Startled, Himiko instinctively stepped back, pressing herself against the wall to let them pass. Tokyo sure was filled with strange characters. These two, a man and a woman, both bore matching scars across their faces.

The man glanced back toward the room and then smirked.

“Looks like you’ve got a lady here to visit you,” he remarked, clearly speaking to the person inside.

No turning back now.

Himiko took a steadying breath, closing her eyes briefly before shifting to the side. She needed to calm down, but unfortunately it wasn’t working as quick as she'd like it too.

And then she saw him.

Himeno’s partner, her only reason for wanting to leave public safety despite Himiko and their father begging her to leave multiple occasions before. Her crush, sitting there in all his worn-out glory.

His hair was longer now then on the picture, down to his shoulders almost, and small black metal pierced into his ears. He looked older than she had seen—more tired, more burdened.

Himiko stepped into the room, her fingers tightening around the handles of her bag. He didn’t look at her right away, and for a moment, she debated leaving. Maybe she shouldn’t have come. But she knew herself too well—she would have spent the rest of her ride back regretting it.

Then, suddenly, his eyes were on her.

Not with hostility, and not even with suspicion. Just exhaustion. A quiet, hollow sort of shock.

And when he really saw her—when his mind caught up with his eyes—his expression cracked. His stiff persona betrayed him, eyes widening in pure disbelief.

For a moment, it looked like he might speak. But the words died in his throat.

Because he knew.

He knew that if he said anything, the wrong name would come out.

Aki had known that Himeno had a twin—had even known her name was Himiko.

When they first became partners, Himeno had mentioned her often, always with a teasing lilt in her voice. She used to joke that Aki was exactly her sister’s type, grinning like she knew something he didn’t.

And then, there was that one night—when the alcohol had loosened her tongue more than usual. She had mumbled something about how she was jealous of Himiko. How her sister had always been cuter, sweeter.

Aki hadn’t thought much of it at the time.

Now, standing here, looking at the girl who wore Himeno’s face but wasn’t her, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He just… wasn’t expecting this. Wasn’t expecting to feel that aching, suffocating urge to sob again.

Himeno was gone. But now, standing before him, was someone who carried her face.

And no matter how much he tried, he knew he would see her before he saw Himiko.

What a cruel thing—to be seen as a memory before being seen as yourself. He wouldn't want her to feel that way, even if it did bring her some amount of comfort.

Himiko wasn’t sure how to feel about his stare. Did she hate it? Or did it comfort her, in some strange, twisted way?

He clearly hadn’t expected her, and even if he had, he probably didn’t think she’d look this much like Himeno.

“Hi,” she greeted, her voice deliberately smooth—hiding her nerves beneath forced composure.

Aki didn’t answer at first. His mouth was pressed into a firm line, but his eyes… His eyes gave him away. The grief, the disbelief—it was all there, laid bare despite his best efforts.

And what made it worse—what made it unbearable—was that he could see that same pain reflected in hers.

“…Hi.”

Without another word, Himiko stepped closer to the bed, lifting her bag slightly.

"I brought you something."

Aki’s gaze shifted to the bag involuntarily—curious, yet hesitant. He had expected to feel shame, not comfort. The same shame that should have clung to him when he thought about how Himeno’s last partner’s girlfriend had treated her.

The woman had slapped Himeno across the face—a silent, unforgiving accusation. It didn’t matter whether the death had been her fault or not.

In retaliation, Aki had stuck a piece of gum to the woman’s clothes. Petty, maybe. But it was all he could do at the time.

Now, though—if Himiko lashed out at him, if she blamed him for her sister’s death—he wouldn’t be angry. If anything, he might have agreed with her.

Because Himeno died protecting him.

She had disappeared, completely and utterly, for him.

Sitting here in this hospital bed, it had finally sunk in—Himeno had saved him for more than one reason. It wasn’t just because they had been partners, accustomed to each other’s presence. Or because they smoked the same brand of cigarettes and ate at the same restaurant every week.

Not even because she had given him a love, one he didn’t understand and didn't reciprocate—one he never truly cherished until it was too late.

She saved him because, unlike her, he was still capable of crying. Himeno had lost so many partners in Public Safety. Maybe, deep down, she had been certain she wouldn’t have cried for him either.

But he had cried for her.

And no matter how much he tried to push the memories away, he couldn’t erase the image of her final moments.

How she had reached for him. How she had smiled, even as blood pooled from her mouth. How the pain had been so unbearable that tears welled in her eyes, but she had refused to shed them.

One second, she was there.

The next, she was gone.

Aki was so lost in thought that he didn’t even notice when Himiko pulled out a stack of letters, carefully setting them on the wheeled table in front of him.

Then, with deliberate precision, she picked out a single letter and held it out to him.

"This is the last letter my sister sent me," she said, her voice even yet laced with something unreadable. "I'm giving it to you because I think you should read it."

Aki's eyes flicked from the letter to Himiko’s face—his stomach twisting when, for a split second, he swore it was Himeno staring back at him again.

He kept his expression composed, but it rattled him nonetheless. He already knew it wasn't Himeno, but he had a lingering feeling that he'd be surprised every time he looked at Himiko's face.

She looked so much like her sister. The resemblance was unsettling, yet the differences stood out now that he was paying attention.

Himiko was taller. Her hair was longer. And unlike Himeno, she still had both of her eyes. After all, she didn't need a devil contract.

Aki exhaled quietly, lowering his gaze back to the letter in his hands. He slid a finger beneath the envelope’s flap, carefully pulling out the paper inside.

The first lines greeted him with Himeno’s familiar handwriting, casual and unhurried. She started by asking how Himiko was doing, her words light, maybe playful. Then came the mundane details—things that probably weren’t meant for him, things that should have felt irrelevant.

And yet, he kept reading.

Halfway through the letter, the words started to hurt.

At first, it was lighthearted—Himeno mentioning how she had somehow convinced Aki to pierce his ears. That part was true. He hadn’t really decided on his own; she had worn him down with relentless teasing until he finally gave in.

Then, she talked about their father messaging her. Instead of letting him worry about her, she had worried about him—insisting that Himiko keep an eye on him like a hawk.

But then, the letter took a turn. Aki felt his stomach twist as he read about how Himeno had tried to talk to him weeks before.

He remembered it. She had mentioned finding a decent job in the private devil-hunting sector, bringing it up in passing as if testing the waters. He had brushed it off, barely registering it.

At the time, he thought she was joking... No, that was a lie. He didnt think that, she had been trying to tell him something important.

And he simply ignored her. Brushed it aside as irrelevant to his goals.

He had been so focused on revenge—so consumed by the idea of killing the Gun Devil—that he hadn’t considered what she wanted.

Himeno wasn’t looking for vengeance anymore.

She was just tired.

Aki pressed his lips into a thin line, his grip on the letter tightening. He tried to keep himself composed, but lately, his emotions had been impossible to hide.

His eyes, wide and glassy, betrayed him—filled to the brim with guilt and an unbearable grief.

"Aki."

His eyes lifted slowly, meeting Himiko’s gaze despite the pain twisting his expression.

"Thank you."

Thank you…? For what? What had he done to deserve her gratitude?

From where he stood, absolutely nothing. He had let her sister die. If anything, she should have been cursing him, blaming him—anything but thanking him.

"... What for?"

"For making my sister happy."

Her smile was small, worn thin by exhaustion and grief, but it was real. Honest. It was a smile that emplored him to have a reprieve—to stop holding everything in. To allow himself to break down, even for a moment.

It was a smile that told him it was okay to mourn in front of her.

His composure shattered.

He had already cried. He had sworn he was done crying. But the grief was relentless, surging up in his chest, crushing him under its weight. It was just as raw, just as agonizing as the day he lost his family.

He hated this.

Himiko hesitated, torn between stepping away to let him grieve alone or offering something—anything—to comfort him.

A hug, maybe?

No—they both probably needed more than just a hug.

[irritatedirishfrog]

"𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄"

𝘮𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘪 𝘧𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘰

In which, Megumi is certain he could never match your boldness. From the very moment you crossed paths, you had the sheer audacity to ask him out, as if fate had already decided for the both of you. By some twist of luck—or misfortune, as he first thought—he eventually relented after finding himself stranded in a mall with you and his classmates. Now, as he's stuck with his decision lingering in the air, he isn't quite sure what to do with himself.

Surely, he hasn't gone and fallen for some random, starry-eyed girl... Has he?

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

"What?"

"Can you take me out?"

"..."

"..."

"Like... take you out... with a gun?" Megumi squinted at the girl, deliberately playing dumb for the sake of his own sanity.

In the thirty seconds he’d known you, he still couldn’t decide if this was some kind of elaborate prank or an unforeseen psychological endurance test.

You were just some random girl, balancing a volleyball in one hand and a drink in the other, looking as if you had all the time in the world. He had bumped into you, apologized, and somehow, in the span of a heartbeat, you had turned this into a flirtation.

And the way you stood there—completely unshaken, your expression unwavering—only deepened his confusion. Did you even realize how reckless your words sounded? Were you joking, or was this an actual death wish?

Logic told him to walk away. Instead, he indulged you.

"You’re funny, but the answer’s no." you chuckled, an effortless, unbothered smile spreading across your face. "I meant, take me out on a date."

It was a nice smile, Megumi noted absently, but it threw him off. He had seen confessions before—people fumbling over words, faces flushed with embarrassment—yet here you were, standing before him, calm and composed as if asking for a date was as routine as ordering food off of a menu.

"...You... I don’t even know your name." His voice was slower this time, laced with uncertainty.

"Y/N L/N. That’s my name."

A faint twitch formed beneath his eye, frustration—or something like it—surfacing. You were too casual, too self-assured, and it was messing with his composure.

He had no idea how to react. Who even were you? And why was this happening in the middle of a dimly lit subway station?

The air was thick with the scent of iron and concrete, the distant hum of an approaching train filling the silence between you and he can't help but feel trapped.

"...So... would you take me on a date? Or would you rather I take you on one? Both seem like pretty good options." You tilted your head slightly when he averted his gaze.

"...I—I don’t get it. What... Why would you even want to date me? We just met." Megumi stuttered.

The headache was inevitable now. Normally, turning people down wasn’t an issue for him—he was blunt by nature. But you? For some reason, he hesitated. It frustrated him how easily you disarmed him with nothing but sheer confidence.

And yet, there was something oddly considerate in the way you carried yourself, like you already understood that this wasn’t the appropriate time or place for such a question but didn’t mind either way.

"...Well... huh, how do I explain this..." You mused aloud, tossing your volleyball into the air before catching it again. "Hypothetically speaking, would me saying that I find you attractive not be a good enough response?"

Megumi tensed.

"...Well... it’s certainly a response." He grumbled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, gaze darting away as heat crept up his neck.

What kind of courage did you have to say something like that with a straight face? Were you even real?

"...Not a good one, I assume?"

"Not really."

A brief silence stretched between you, punctuated only by the distant screech of an incoming train.

"...So would you take me out on a date?"

Was this girl serious?

"I mean... I just met you... so no."

"...Alright."

Megumi studied your expression. You looked... slightly embarrassed now, like the reality of your own words had finally sunk in. With a quiet sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply before muttering:

"Maybe... if we meet again."

What was he even saying?

You blinked, then grinned. "Well... that sounds like a plan."

Finally, a bit of color dusted your cheeks as you took a sip of your drink. Megumi almost regretted wanting to see you flustered. He had only been curious—to confirm you were, in fact, human—but now that he had, it was making him blush too.

How annoying... Did he just become a sucker for a total stranger?

"You don’t really seem disappointed." Megumi noted, voice measured as he sheepishly scratched the back of his head.

"Well, I know it’s a weird question to ask someone you just met, and I can’t force you to take me out on a date." You laughed, barely acknowledging the train doors sliding open behind him.

"Why did you want to talk to me anyway?"

"I just thought you were a really romantic-looking kind of person and that I should talk to you. I figured you’d say no anyway."

Megumi huffed at that, the warmth in his face only deepening. Romantic-looking? What did that even mean?

"Sure."

He wasn’t convinced you weren’t messing with him.

The station was busier now—commuters moving around him, boarding the train, their chatter filling the space. He should’ve left already. Instead, he lingered, looking at you for just a moment longer than necessary.

"Well, is it okay if you tell me your name?" You asked, tilting your head.

He hesitated. Why was he hesitating?

"It’s Fushiguro." The words left him reluctantly as he finally took a step forward.

"No full name?" You teased, even though you weren’t sure you’d ever see him again. All you knew was that you liked this guy—a lot—and you wanted to keep talking to him.

Megumi exhaled, almost groaning. You were persistent. It was something he could respect, at least.

"...Megumi. Megumi Fushiguro."

Your expression softened. "That’s a pretty name. Alright, I won’t hold you up any longer. Bye, handsome."

Megumi turned away entirely, stepping into the train without so much as a backward glance. You had thoroughly embarrassed him.

You sighed, watching as the train doors slid shut. Then, with a small, amused shake of your head, you made your way up the station stairs, heading toward where your friend was waiting.

Megumi Fushiguro probably thought you were insane.

But if you ever saw him again, you’d definitely take another shot.

Something about him was just too cool to let go.

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

Fushiguro, right?"

"Yeah, that's my name." He sighed, weariness laced in his tone.

"Can I call you Megumi?"

Megumi looked at you, another invisible tick mark forming on his forehead. Normally, he’d say no without hesitation, but something about the way you asked—your voice soft, your smile unguarded—made him hesitate. This was humiliating.

"Uh... sure, I guess."

"Well... this is kind of like a date, no?" You almost laughed, trying not to agitate the increasingly exasperated boy beside you.

It had been about two weeks—give or take—since your first encounter at the subway station. Now, fate (or misfortune, in Megumi’s case) had led to another meeting, this time involving an almost-spilled coffee. He had turned to apologize, only to recognize you, and in his moment of shock, actually dropped the drink.

You had offered to replace it, and despite every fiber of his being telling him not to indulge you, he had agreed... only because he still wanted coffee. And so, here you were, strolling alongside him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He held his coffee, you clutched a small box of cake for later, and the city hummed around you in the late afternoon light.

"Uh... this isn’t a date." Megumi corrected, desperate to shut down whatever delusions you might have.

"Are you sure? This seems like it would make for a pretty romantic walk."

Megumi’s grip on his cup tightened. Why would you use the word romantic? Now he was actively avoiding looking at you.

"Yeah, I’m sure." He sighed, eyes locked on the pavement.

"Well, how about we call it just hanging out then?" You grinned, stepping a little closer.

He took another slow sip of his coffee, waging an internal war. He didn’t like you—definitely not. He didn’t even want to be here. He was antisocial, and he sure as hell shouldn’t be entertaining you.

Love at first sight wasn’t real. He knew that. And yet... there was something about you that made him doubt his own reasoning. Maybe it was the way you so fearlessly inserted yourself into his life, as if fate had long decided you belonged there.

He could indulge you just a little longer... right?

"Sure. This can just be a hangout."

The moment he said it, he was rewarded with one of the most radiant smiles he’d ever seen.

"That’s good. Then maybe I can get you to date me after."

"That’s not going to happen."

"Why not? We know each other a little better now, don’t you think?"

"Yeah? I still barely know you." He tried not to let his smirk show, keeping his guard up even as he found you... oddly fun to be around.

"Well, you drink black coffee, and I like cake—"

"Most people like cake."

"And barely anyone likes black coffee. That makes you unique."

"But liking cake isn’t."

"Jeez, you’re missing the point." You huffed, crossing your arms, only for him to let out a small, unexpected chuckle.

"That’s fine. I’m making my own point," Megumi replied, entirely unfazed by your frustration. "We’re still technically strangers. At best, we’re acquaintances."

"Then tell me something about yourself. If that’s the problem, we can fix it."

"Absolutely not." He took another deliberate sip of his coffee.

"Can I talk about myself then?"

"Knock yourself out."

"Cool! So, I just switched schools, and I play volleyball there. At my old school, I used to be one of those people in the mascot suits—you know, the big fluffy animals? Yep, that was me. And recently, I got a job at a skating rink—"

You rambled on, jumping between topics as if your thoughts were spilling out faster than you could catch them. At first, Megumi thought it would be exhausting. But somehow, despite himself, he found that he was listening.

Maybe it was the way you spoke—so animated, so full of life—or the way your words painted pictures of your experiences in broad, reckless strokes. Even if it drained his social battery, he couldn’t help but keep up.

Then came the voice that made his head throb instantly.

"Megumi!"

He tensed. You turned, tilting your head at the tall man with white hair and a black blindfold. Why was he wearing a blindfold?

"Oh? Who’s that?"

"...That’s my teacher." Megumi groaned, already regretting this entire day.

"Hey! Who’s your friend?" Gojo grinned at you, his energy almost overwhelming.

"This is L/N—"

"Don’t call me that. Just Y/N, since I’m calling you Megumi." You interrupted, flashing a playful smile. Gojo raised an eyebrow, while Megumi flushed and glanced away, suddenly interested in the cracks in the pavement.

"Okay." Gojo smirked before turning back to you. "Nice to meet you, little lady. Name’s Gojo."

"Nice to meet you too, sir."

"Right... what were we talking about again?" You turned to Megumi, who simply sipped his coffee as if he hadn’t just been embarrassed.

"Someone named Yoko."

"Oh, right! Then there’s Yoko—he kind of hates me, so I don’t mess with him much even though I have to see him for advanced math almost every day. And then there’s my teacher, Mr. Touya—"

Gojo observed quietly, his grin deepening. You just kept talking, completely at ease, filling the space with an effortless energy most people lacked. But what amused him most was the way Megumi listened—really listened.

With a knowing smirk, he elbowed his student, earning an immediate, half-hearted swat in return.

Then, out of nowhere, you gasped dramatically. "Oh my gosh, do you want to know something?!"

Megumi nearly jumped, almost spilling his coffee again. "What!? What happened to your mother!?"

"Huh?"

"...Huh!?" Megumi stared, utterly baffled. You had been talking about your mom just a second ago—so why did you suddenly jump topics?

"What happened to your mother?" He repeated, exasperated but lowering his voice so it didn’t seem like he was yelling at you. Meanwhile, Gojo was practically shaking with silent laughter.

"Oh! Nothing happened to my mother," you said cheerfully, "but I just remembered my dad’s taking me to Paris in three weeks since he’s working overseas!"

Megumi’s brain short-circuited. How did you function like this? The sheer unpredictability of your conversations should have been annoying. Instead, it made him want to know more.

"Yep... so that’s my life. What’s yours?"

"You think just because you dumped your life story on me, you’ll get to know mine?"

"Why not?"

"It’s because he’s antisocial. But don’t worry, I’m sure he liked it—"

"Shut up." Megumi shot a glare at Gojo, only to hear you laugh.

"Well, I’ll see you later then, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess—"

"Oh, wait! Can I ask you again?"

Megumi hesitated. "Ask me what?"

"If you’ll take me out."

"Oh! That’d be sweet, but now that I think about it, he’s getting some of his teeth removed in a few days, so maybe not!" Gojo interrupted, earning an attempted slap on the back.

"No, I’m not taking you out... at least not yet." Megumi muttered, avoiding eye contact.

You grinned. "Alright then. See you soon, Megumi."

And with that, you walked away, waving as you left.

Silence stretched for about twenty seconds before Gojo grinned. "So... who was that lovely girl?"

"She's L/N. I met her like two weeks ago… and don’t start making stuff up about me, especially in front of her."

"Oh my gosh! Are you two dating? Is she your girlfriend? Wait—don’t tell me—have you two already—!? Megumi, you're too young for that!"

"What the hell!? No! We're just acquaintances, dammit! Now drop it!"

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

Megumi didn’t ask for this. He didn’t want to be here. If given the choice, he’d much rather be cooking with Maki than wandering aimlessly through a crowded mall.

Nobara and Yuji had insisted on a shopping trip, dragging Megumi along for the ride—not that he had a say in the matter. Gojo made sure of that. But somehow, against all odds, he found himself bumping into you again. And again. At this point, it felt less like coincidence and more like the universe playing some kind of twisted joke on him.

Unfortunately, this time, he wasn’t alone. His ever-annoying teacher and equally troublesome classmates were with him, making the situation infinitely worse. He already knew what was coming.

Gojo, in all his meddling glory, had ratted him out to Nobara and Yuji, claiming—loudly—that you were his girlfriend. No amount of frantic yelling on Megumi’s part could convince them otherwise. If they saw you now, he’d never hear the end of it.

"Hey, Megumi! How are—"

"Don’t be so loud," he muttered, grabbing your forearm and steering you toward another section of the store as fast as humanly possible.

"I wasn’t being loud. What’s wrong?"

"Nothing. I just don’t want to be here."

Truthfully, he just didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire. You were bold, he was reserved, and the contrast was enough to set his classmates off. He could already hear the teasing.

"You’re being kind of pushy, you know that? Are you taking me on that date now?" You grinned, following him without hesitation.

"Don’t ask me that anymore. You’re the most persistent person I’ve ever met."

"Aw, c’mon. It’s not like I’d be a bad date. I’d be fun—"

"You know what? Fine," Megumi hissed. "I’ll take you out. Just shush!"

Finally, he let you go, exhaling sharply—only to freeze as soon as he turned around.

Yuji.

Not him.

Megumi knew exactly what was coming next. Yuji had a habit of reporting every little interaction Megumi had with a girl.

So, without hesitation, Megumi dropped to all fours and crawled under a clothing rack, opting for the most ridiculous but effective method of escape. He didn’t even bother pulling you along—he just peeked out from under the rack, looking up at you like some desperate fugitive.

"Where are you going?" you whispered, baffled.

"Don’t mention me. At all. They don’t need to know—"

"Who?"

"Nobody. Just… annoying people who dragged me here."

"Well, I guess I should thank them, since I get to see your handsome face again. And now you’re taking me on a date." You smiled, unbothered, while Megumi’s face heated up yet again.

He groaned when he spotted Yuji approaching from behind you.

Yuji, for his part, had not expected to find Megumi crouched under a clothing rack, talking to a cute girl about dating.

"Uh… hey. What’s your name?"

You turned to face the boy with pink hair, dressed in the same uniform as Megumi.

"Y/N L/N. What’s yours?"

"Oh! I’m Yuji Itadori. I’ve heard a lot about you!"

"Really? That’s nice."

"Hey, Kugisaki! Gojo-sensei! Guess who Fushiguro found?!" Yuji shouted, drawing the attention of everyone in the store.

Megumi sighed in defeat. There was no running from this.

"Who?" Nobara strolled over, yawning, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

"The girl Megumi’s into!"

Megumi cringed as Yuji’s words rang out, immediately smacking him upside the head while you were distracted.

"Oh really?!" Nobara perked up, smirking as she placed a hand on her hip. "I’m Nobara Kugisaki. Best girl here—besides you, of course."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N!" You smiled, taking note of what Yuji had said. If you really were the girl Megumi was interested in, than that would mean he'd want to date you.

"Well, little lady, we were about to grab some food. Want to join us?" Gojo offered with a grin.

"I'd like that, if it's okay with you, Megumi." You nodded, and Megumi sighed before muttering a small, reluctant "Sure." Yuji and Nobara almost squealed at the way you so casually used his first name.

With that settled, everyone finished their purchases. Nobara immediately decided you needed some cute dresses and dragged you along, while Yuji chatted with you nonstop.

You seemed interesting enough, and you must have been pretty impressive to catch Megumi’s attention.

"Yeah, that's how we found out that not only is Megumi dyslexic, but he also has like twenty different types of gel for his hair. Oh, and don’t even get me started on the romance novels he has—"

"I do not have romance novels in my dorm room," Megumi growled, shooting a sharp glare at Nobara, who just laughed and kept talking. He had to correct her every ten seconds as she spun wild tales, much to your amusement.

He shouldn’t have cared. It shouldn’t have mattered whether they teased him or tried to pair him up with you. After all, it’s not like he actually liked you… He couldn’t like you… Right? He had only met you three weeks ago.

"Yeah, Kugisaki, don’t make stuff up when they’d be so cute together. Just like Gojo would say, ‘Get off of him, you damn homewreckers!’" Yuji teased, grinning. "Though the gel thing is totally true."

"I’m going to kill all of you," Megumi grumbled under his breath. You just laughed, nearly doubling over at how flustered he was.

"You shouldn’t kill us," Gojo chimed in, smirking. "Especially when we’re going to be the ones at your wedding—"

"Stop it!" Megumi snapped, his face burning as laughter erupted around him.

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

"So, where would you take me?"

"I don't know... Probably a cafe or something." Megumi replied, almost forgetting that, by some miracle, he had actually agreed to this.

Though, he was starting to realize he had been lying to himself. It wasn’t that he outwardly liked you the way you did him…

But he was lying about not falling for you. Because at the very least, he wanted to be around you. And for someone like him—someone who rarely wanted to be around anyone—that meant something.

"Well, it's a good thing you gave me your number, so now I can text you about it later." You smiled, looking up at the sky, streaked in soft hues of sunset.

"I guess."

Meanwhile, Yuji, Nobara, and Gojo were doing an absolutely horrible job at being inconspicuous as they spied from the food court. The two of you had stepped outside to talk, and, like a group of nosy children, they couldn’t help themselves.

"What that boy Itadori said—was it true?" you asked suddenly.

"What did he say?"

"That you're into me?"

Megumi had to physically restrain himself from scowling. He was definitely going to smack the hell out of Yuji when they got back to campus.

Then again… he might as well tell the truth. Was he into you? Hypothetically, he shouldn’t be—not when the two of you barely knew each other. But in reality… yes. Yes, he was into you.

And he blamed you for it. It was your fault he felt this way.

"Yeah." He finally admitted.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. You had only brought it up to tease him—you hadn't actually expected him to admit it.

"... Really? I'm into you too."

"I know that. You made that pretty clear when we first met." Megumi chuckled, looking at you with an ease that was rare for him.

For once, he wasn’t annoyed or stressed. He didn’t look like he wanted to strangle someone. He just looked… calm. And that made you even more excited.

"Right."

"..."

"..."

"I can't actually believe you're going to take me on a date!" you beamed, barely able to contain your excitement.

"Yeah, well, I can't believe it either. I can’t even really believe I like you, so imagine how I feel."

Nobara sighed dramatically from her hiding spot. "This is getting boring. How long do we have to wait for something interesting to happen?"

"Shh!" Yuji whisper-yelled, elbowing her—only to get elbowed back.

"Ow! Quit it!"

"Shut up! I don't—"

"They're gonna notice us," Gojo warned, lifting his blindfold slightly. It was enough to immediately silence them.

Back outside, you checked the time and sighed. "Welp, I gotta go. But it was nice seeing you again—and meeting your friends." You smiled, completely unaware of the spying trio.

"I'll see you later."

"Alright. Bye—oh, wait!"

You quickly turned back and, before Megumi could react, leaned in and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. Then, just as easily, you waved him goodbye and strolled off like you hadn’t just sent his entire system into shock.

Megumi felt it—his face heating up, his chest doing that stupid thing where it beats too fast. At this rate, you were going to give him heart failure.

"Woah!" a voice exclaimed.

Megumi turned sharply, only to find the three idiots huddled behind a bush. They weren’t even trying to be subtle anymore.

"Did you see that?! That was so cute!" Gojo gushed, peeking at the picture Yuji had taken.

"Hell yeah, it was! The picture turned out great!"

"It did?! Let me see! Oh my gosh, that’s so sweet! And now they’re going on their first date?" Nobara smirked.

"This is amazing! They have so much chemistry! I’ll bet you ten thousand yen they’ll end up in the same bed in two months—"

"I’m giving you all five seconds." Megumi’s voice was eerily calm as he loomed over the bush.

That was all the warning they needed before they bolted back into the mall, leaving Megumi standing there, still red-faced, cursing the fact that he had ever left his dorm today.

[irritatedirishfrog]

"𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄"

𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘬𝘰 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘢

*:･ﾟ✧ In which, a suicidal boy gets kidnapped by his scary yandere girl stalker. He could care less and doesn't mind dying, however she cares and it confuses her why he doesn't. So she brings him with her into the League of Villains and for once in his life, he can say that he's genuinely felt... At least okay.

────── • ✧ • ──────

"You need help, y'know that, right?"

"... I know that, It's just that... I don't really want help."

"Then how do you expect to get better?!"

"Well, I'm not really expecting to get better. I wasn’t expecting to live this long."

"Why are you like this?!"

──────── • ✧ • ────────

Y/N was... strange, to say the least.

He wasn’t even sure why he couldn't just be normal. He wanted to be, but he couldn't shake the feeling that life would be better without him in it. Even when he tried to stay invisible, he still somehow managed to attract attention.

Whether it was the bullying at school, the constant disappointment from his parents, his friends leaving because his mental state was hurting them, or even him bothering the police and ambulances—he always seemed to be a problem.

So after a while, he just stopped trying to die. It only made things worse when he failed, and everyone around him grew frustrated. He got better over time… or at least, it took him three years to convince everyone of that. At least now, people worried less and went back to their normal lives.

Yet, trouble still seemed to find him.

So when he woke up in an abandoned house one evening after a nap, with a crazy-looking girl kneeling at his feet, he wasn’t entirely surprised. The walls were covered in graffiti, there was no furniture, and it was already clear—she had sinister intentions.

"You're awake! Hi there, cutie!" the girl squealed, happily bouncing around before kneeling right back in front of him.

Y/N wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, and what made it worse was that he was pretty sure he recognized her.

"You're... that girl… You killed that boy at my school," he stated, watching as she simply giggled and nodded, as if that detail didn’t matter whatsoever. Already, that was the worst impression anyone could possibly give.

She was probably going to kill him too. Honestly, he didn’t mind. At least he had just taken a nap—if he was going to die, at least he’d go out feeling refreshed.

"Yep! That’s me! He was my first love, but you’re my favorite so far!" she gushed, her voice brimming with excitement as she placed a knife against his neck.

"Y’know… you’d look even cuter covered in your own blood."

He simply raised an eyebrow before activating his quirk. Instantly, she shrieked and dropped the blade.

His quirk was emotion manipulation—he could suppress, enhance, or balance out someone's feelings. Right now, he had amplified her fear, which was why she was now trembling on the floor.

But strangely… he felt a little bad for her.

She was unhinged, that much was clear, but he couldn’t really blame her. People called him a freak too. Besides, it was kind of flattering—no one had ever been obsessed with him before. Though, to be fair, this level of obsession was concerning. What had he done to catch her attention? Did she even know where her parents were?

Shifting his focus, he struggled against the zip ties restraining him, managing to snap one off his wrist. He sighed, deactivating his quirk as he watched her cry, choking on her own breath. The fear still lingered in her, but she seemed calmer now.

"So… what exactly do you plan to do with me?"

"Oh! Nothing bad! I just… I wanted some of your blood..."

"Why? Don’t you have your own?" Y/N chuckled.

"...Yeah… but I want to be like you! I... I want to become you because I love you!"

"...You don’t even know me—"

"Yes, I do! Your name is Y/N M/N L/N! I know you’re strong, and that everyone at school is scared of you! They think you’ll manipulate them with your quirk, but I know you wouldn’t do that! I also know you used to date a girl… and she left you for your best friend!"

"...And you know all this… how?"

"Because I followed you! I love watching you at school and at home! Y’know, if you want, I can kill that girl and that fake friend of yours! Would you like me to do that?! It doesn’t matter either way!"

He stared at her, trying to process what she had just said. She claimed to love him, yet she was going to kill him… That made absolutely no sense.

"Just like that boy… Y’know, no one at school thought you’d do something like that. You were always that sweet, happy girl… Why’d you kill him?"

"I hated pretending to be normal! But that’s all anyone ever saw me as! For example—this house! Well, it used to be my home," she mumbled.

Y/N glanced around at the graffiti-covered walls. Now that she mentioned it, the place did seem vaguely familiar…

"I… I was born a monster. Someone who can’t live without hurting the people she loves… So, I want to become strong. I want to carve my own path… and become the people I love."

"...That’s why you want my blood?"

"Yep! I want your blood! You’re so beautiful and fascinating at the same time! I want to be just like you! I love you!"

"How do you know you love me?"

"I just know! You make my heart race, and I want to kill anyone who hurts you!"

Memories surfaced—he recalled his mother bidding farewell to the girl’s family when they moved away. He remembered how they had come to comfort them, despite everyone else blaming them for raising a "monster." But he had never seen them as bad people. He always felt like they had tried.

He didn’t say anything as she continued explaining herself. He simply watched her. Even now, she could still try to kill him.

But now that he thought about it… did he even want to live?

If someone else killed him, he wouldn’t have to pretend to want to be alive anymore. No one would blame him. No one would be disappointed. Just like she didn’t have to pretend to be normal, he wouldn’t have to pretend to be okay.

So, finally, he gave in—silently extending his wrist toward her.

She stared at it, confused, before a hopeful smile spread across her face.

"You… You really want me to have your blood?!"

"Instead of stalking me, you could’ve just asked. You would’ve gotten it faster."

"...Really?"

"Yep."

The girl stared at him, momentarily speechless. Out of all the people she had killed—out of everyone she had ever claimed to love—not a single one had ever offered her something like this.

Why wasn’t there even a hint of hesitation in his voice?

He was definitely special. Extra special. There was no way she could kill him now.

"...But why?"

"You’d be doing me a favor," he replied, his tone as casual as ever. "Believe it or not, I don’t really want to live. Though, I figured you already knew that."

She did know that. She had noticed how often he dozed off, how he always seemed bored or detached. But she didn’t like how unnervingly calm he was right now. It was disturbing how little he cared about the fact that she had every intention of killing him.

So, without thinking, she grabbed his wrist and pressed the blade against his skin, making a small cut. She didn’t drink the blood or even try to save it—she just wanted to see if he’d actually let her. If he’d react at all.

But he didn’t flinch.

That somehow made it worse.

Letting out a frustrated groan, she hastily cut the zip ties from his other wrist and ankles.

"You good?" he asked, stretching his arms.

"No… I don’t want to kill you anymore."

"Damn. Am I that boring?" he teased, hoping she’d reconsider.

"You really want me to kill you?!" she yelled.

"Yeah, why not? In fact, please do. I wouldn’t even hold it against you," he shrugged.

She almost growled, baring sharp canines—like a dog… or maybe a vampire.

"No! I… I can fix you."

"...The hell does that mean?" He gave her a wary look, suddenly worried she was one of those medieval romance novel girls.

Those types scared him. They were the kind of people who would try to marry you just because you vaguely resembled their fictional boyfriends.

"Do you know that hero killer, Mr. Stainy, from the news recently?!"

"Uh… I don’t think that’s his name, but yeah. The Hero Killer."

"I want to be just like him! I want to live in a world where I can be free!"

"...Hate to break it to you, but I don’t think murdering people is the way to do that," he chuckled.

To his surprise, she giggled—a light, amused sound, like they were having a normal conversation.

"I know that, silly! That’s why I’m going to join his group."

"His group? What group?"

"The League of Villains!"

"...Aren’t they their own group?"

"I dunno, but I want to be like Stainy! And I want to be like you, too! So why don’t you come with me? You’re bored with your life, so help me with mine!" she beamed, bouncing excitedly.

"...So… you’re not going to kill me?"

"Nope! We should take you back home!"

What?

What was wrong with this girl? Was she bipolar or something?

"...Okay… You still want my blood?"

"Yeah!" She grinned.

And just like that, she grabbed his wrist before sinking her teeth into it, sucking the blood straight from his skin.

"Ow…" he muttered. "Y’know, you still have time to change your mind and kill me. How do you know I won’t call the police on you?"

"Because you’re too sweet for that!" she replied after pulling away, licking her lips.

…She was probably right.

"Now, why don’t we get some sugar cookies, and then you can go home? I know they’re your favorite! And don’t worry—I’ll definitely come back for you once I figure out how to continue my life plan!"

"...Alright..."

"I love you sooo much!"

Y/N didn’t respond, simply glancing down at the harsh bite mark on his wrist.

This was probably a bad idea.

After all, how the hell was he supposed to explain this to his mom?

…Honestly? He didn’t mind.

─────── • ✧ • ───────

"Are you sure you're okay with being left at home?" his mother asked, placing her luggage in the van as her husband started the car.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he said, smiling at his mom as she came over to hug him.

"If you start feeling scared or depressed, please call me before you do anything."

"Mom, I think I'm fine. It's been like three years since I last tried anything like that."

"I know, but still, that shouldn't even be a last resort, okay?"

"Alright, Mom. Now stop worrying about me and enjoy your honeymoon!"

His mom gave him another quick hug before getting into the car. His stepdad just waved at him—things still weren’t great between them, but at least they were cordial.

He waved them off as they drove away. The moment the car was out of sight, he turned and walked back inside.

Yawning, he stretched, happy to have the house to himself.

Until he didn’t.

"HI!"

"JEEZ! WHAT THE HELL?!" Y/N jumped, dropping the bagel he’d just grabbed from the counter. It hit the floor with a soft thud, and he groaned. Standing in front of him, beaming, was the girl—Himiko Toga.

It had been about a month since she kidnapped him and then, for some reason, brought him back home. Ever since, she had made it her mission to invade his privacy whenever his mom and stepdad weren’t around.

"...Oh. Hello."

"How are you doing, handsome?!" Toga yelled, throwing her arms around him from behind before hopping onto the counter to sit in front of him.

"Just fine… How'd you even get in the house?"

"I broke through your window."

"...Did you break the window?"

"No, silly! I just popped the screen open, unlocked the latch, and then popped the screen back on once I got inside!"

Y/N groaned, running a hand through his hair before sighing. He grabbed a fresh bagel from the counter and handed it to her, then picked up the one he dropped. Technically, he could eat it. The floor wasn’t dirty—he had just helped his mom clean the entire house yesterday.

Was he going to eat it, though? No. He wanted to die, but not from some floor-borne disease.

"Guess what!?"

"What?"

"I found someone who’ll help me get into the League of Villains! You should come with me tonight! Oh! I also drew a picture of you and me!" Toga squealed, hopping off the counter and rushing upstairs.

"...Alright," Y/N mumbled, yawning as he grabbed another bagel.

It took her only a few seconds to come rushing back down, her small but admittedly cute cat backpack slung over her shoulders—unfortunately, it had small traces of blood on it.

"Here! Look!"

Y/N took the sketchbook from her hands, staring at the drawing for a solid two seconds, trying to process what the hell he was looking at.

As surprisingly good as her artwork was… why did it have to be of him like that?

He had to physically stop himself from pushing the sketchbook out of his face.

First off, what kind of memory did this girl have to be able to draw him from scratch? Second, this was the most non-safe-for-work thing he had ever seen. He wasn’t used to this kind of thing—he had only watched porn once, and that was by accident.

"It's…" Y/N glanced at Toga, who was practically vibrating with excitement, her eyes shining with anticipation. He mentally applauded her confidence in showing him something like this with a straight face, as if it wasn’t basically fan-art smut.

"It's nice."

"You really think so?!"

"Yeah."

Toga kicked her feet happily, content with his answer. She spent the rest of the day hanging around him, watching his every move.

Y/N wasn’t sure why he let her stick around. She could easily kill him when he wasn’t looking…

Oh, wait.

He wanted to die.

Toga sighed, staring at the ceiling in boredom. She was excited to bring Y/N with her to the League, but she worried. Would they even take him? And even if they did… he wasn’t exactly a villain.

Would he be willing to kill someone if they made him?

"So, before we go see if you can get into the League, we should stop by the store and get you a really cool villain outfit—something cute but also screams badass—"

Y/N chuckled as Toga kept rambling about clothing. Honestly, he didn’t care. As long as, at some point, he died.

Maybe that was a bit too dark, but he was just so tired. It took all his energy just to get up in the morning and brush his teeth—and that was every single morning.

"Alright."

"So, what style of clothes do you like?"

"Um… surprise me. I don’t really mind."

"You seem indecisive."

"Well, I am."

"About the whole League of Villains thing?"

"Yeah."

"Don't you wanna be a villain?"

"No… no, not really." He shook his head, fully serious.

But it wasn’t like he wouldn’t try it. He had nothing to lose—besides his mom and his life. And his mom could take care of herself.

"...Well, do you wanna be with me?!"

"...I mean… no. You’re kinda crazy."

Toga huffed, crossing her arms and pouting.

Y/N walked off toward the living room, but out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her grab a knife and lunge at his shoulder. Without thinking, he activated his quirk.

Why was she like this? She had to be bipolar or something.

"I don’t know why you keep trying to stab me at the most inconvenient times," he mumbled, barely sparing her a glance as she sat, looking distraught, on the floor. With a sigh, he deactivated his quirk.

"Hey, you're okay," was all he said, gently patting her head before checking the time.

The thought crossed his mind—why hadn’t he just left his quirk out of it? He could’ve died right then. Could’ve been killed. And he missed that opportunity because of reflex.

Whatever. He’d die eventually.

Toga didn’t say anything as she stood up, but she slowly wrapped her arms around Y/N again. She didn’t care if he used his quirk on her.

Y/N hugged her back before pulling away just enough to let her know he wasn’t mad. Sure, the quirk was annoying, but she knew all too well—he was too sweet to actually hurt anyone.

"So… will you come with me tonight?"

"...Sure. Why not?"

"Thank you! Thank you so much, Y/N-kun! I love you, I love you!"

"...Okay..."

─────── • ✧ • ───────

"What do you mean I need a body count?" Y/N questioned, grimacing at the so-called villain broker, Giran. Seriously? They weren’t even going to consider him for the League just because he hadn’t killed anyone yet?

Sounded biased.

"Well, I guess we can forget that for now, but have you killed anybody at all? What's your quirk? Any abilities? Got any props to show us? Anything at all that proves you’d be a good addition to the League?"

Y/N barely heard the question. Most of his attention was fixated on the barbecued man standing off to the side.

Why did he look like he was tweaking out?

Something was off about him—like he wasn’t even a normal human to begin with. He had to have been born into this villain trade. Some bloodline Taugarian stuff, for sure.

"After all," Giran continued, "I have a good business relationship with the League, and I wouldn’t want to ruin it."

"...Why didn’t you tell me?" Y/N grumbled, turning to glare at Toga. "I could’ve prepared a little better."

"Well, the Union already said I was a good pick! Sorry, I didn’t think about it, even when I said I’d bring you!"

Y/N sighed as Toga latched onto his arm, though his gaze kept flicking back to the burnt guy, who stood with the sassiest stance he’d ever seen.

Clearly impatient. Clearly did not want to be here.

"Well... I haven’t actually killed anyone yet. Except for my dad," Y/N admitted. "Hit him with a bat when I was younger. He bled out. But I don’t think that really counts—it was an accident."

He cringed at how weird his own voice sounded saying that out loud.

This was embarrassing.

"My quirk is emotion control. I can manipulate people's emotions, basically… but I don’t have a prop to show—"

"Oh! Me! Me! Use me!" Toga squealed, jumping in front of him like an overexcited child.

"The hell?" Burnt Guy—Dabi, probably—grimaced, looking seconds away from gagging. He already hated this crazy, lovesick girl. Now, he had to deal with her and some rookie attention-seeker?

Yeah. No. He’d just set them both on fire later if they got too annoying.

"Uh… how about no?" Y/N muttered, grabbing Toga by the shoulders and moving her to the side like she was a misplaced chair.

"We gotta go soon," Dabi scoffed. "So when you're done talking with the crazy one and the attention hog, let me know. I’m already tired of this."

He turned toward the alleyway door, ready to leave—until he wasn’t.

For some reason, he couldn’t move.

And he didn’t like it. Not one damn bit.

Why did he suddenly feel... worthless? Like he was drowning in his own uselessness?

Every ugly memory, every failure, every broken piece of himself slammed into his mind at once. It was unbearable.

"That’s rude, y’know?" Y/N said casually, raising a single finger in the air. "You should respect the guy when you’re the one wasting his time."

Dabi crumpled.

And then—he cried.

Not just cried—sobbed.

Y/N winced. That… that wasn’t just his quirk. That sounded broken. Like something deep inside him had snapped. He would’ve preferred screaming over this.

"That is so cool, Y/N!" Toga gasped, practically bouncing. "What emotion are you using?!"

"Sadness," Y/N muttered, still watching the grown man unravel in front of him. That’s when he noticed—Dabi’s tears had actually reopened the burn wounds around his mouth and eyes.

Damn.

"Basically," Y/N continued, "I overwhelm the brain with the chemical that triggers an emotion, then force it onto the body."

With that, he deactivated his quirk, letting Dabi breathe again.

"...That’s... actually scary," Giran admitted. "And it’s perfect. Even though the Union didn’t pick you, you’d be a great asset for what the League needs." He gestured toward the broken mess of a man still hunched over. "The dude you just wrecked? That’s Dabi. You’re in."

"Oh my gosh, Y/N-kun!" Toga squealed, grabbing his hands. "Do you know what this means?! You and I are gonna be hero killers! Just like Mr. Stainy! Oh man! I love you so much!"

"...Cool. Thanks." Y/N glanced at Dabi, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hey, uh… Dabi, right? Sorry about that—"

"Shut the hell up," Dabi growled, standing with a hand pressed to one of his burns. He didn’t even bother wiping away the tears.

He was already humiliated. Already furious.

And this dumbass kid scared him.

If he could manipulate emotions that quickly, that effectively, with barely any effort…

What the hell could stop him?

"Yeah… I-I kinda deserve that," Y/N mumbled. "I’ll shut up. That’s fair, I guess."

─────── • ✧ • ───────

"Shigaraki! Your League of Villains has been the talk of the town these past several days," Giran remarked as he pushed open the door to an abandoned bar.

Honestly, what a terrible way to start a conversation.

"Word on the street is you're about to start something big—"

"And? Who did you bring?"

Rude.

Giran just chuckled, waving the three of them inside. Toga nearly squealed, squeezing Y/N’s arm before finally letting go and skipping forward.

This was probably a bad idea.

No—this was definitely a bad idea.

The second Y/N stepped inside, he knew he wanted to turn back. This guy—the one with a hand for a mask—was the leader of the League? He looked like he hadn’t eaten in a decade. When was the last time this dude even drank water?

"So it’s really you, huh?" Dabi drawled, tilting his head. "I’ve seen pictures, but I gotta say, you’re way grosser in person."

"Wow! It’s the weird hand guy!" Toga gasped, eyes sparkling. "You’re friends with my hero Stain, right? Cool! Let us join your League! We wanna be in your group!"

She grabbed Y/N’s arm again, practically vibrating with excitement.

Shigaraki barely acknowledged her before turning to Kurogiri. "...Get rid of these three. I can already tell they’re exactly the kind of trash I hate. A girly brat, some weak mute kid, and a guy with no manners."

"I’m not mute," Y/N chuckled, though the bluntness pissed him off more than he cared to admit.

He nearly used his quirk just for the hell of it.

"Now, now, Tomura Shigaraki," the smoky guy, Kurogiri, interjected. "They came all this way. The least we could do is hear them out. Give them a chance. Besides, this broker is respected in the underworld—they’re bound to be valuable assets."

Kurogiri kinda reminded Y/N of that fire bartender from Undertale.

"Like ‘em or not, you still owe me a finder’s fee," Giran added, cigarette between his fingers. "Might as well hear them out before I go."

He gestured toward Toga first. "This one looks like your average high school girl, right? But she’s actually the suspect in a series of deaths where all the victims bled out. So far, her name and face have been kept out of the media."

Y/N almost forgot just how dangerous she was.

"Toga! Himiko Toga!" she beamed. "Life’s too hard, and I just wanna make it easier to live in this dumb world! I wanna be Mr. Stainy! I wanna kill Mr. Stainy! Oh, c’mon, Mr. Handyman, let me join your League of Villains!"

"You gotta be kidding me. Is she crazy?"

...Yeah, she was definitely crazy.

"Well, she can hold a conversation— for the most part, —so c’mon, she can be useful."

"Yeah," Y/N added, shoving his hands in his pockets. "In fact, I was gonna be her next victim before she asked me to come here."

Silence.

Shigaraki blinked.

For a second, it looked like he was about to rip his hand mask off in shock.

"...What?"

"Long story. Well—not really. But it’s not relevant to the topic right now."

Giran continued, pointing his cigarette toward Dabi. "And this guy hasn’t committed any flashy crimes, but he’s taken Stain’s ideology to heart."

"I don’t like this," Dabi muttered. "Is your group really dedicated to the Hero Killer’s mission? I can’t imagine you are if you’re letting this little psycho join."

Toga pouted.

"Grow up," Y/N sighed. "At least she can introduce herself."

"Yeah, I actually agree with him," Shigaraki commented, waving a lazy hand toward Y/N and Toga. "Don’t just stare—what’s your name?"

"Right now, I’m going by Dabi."

"No, I wanna know your real name."

"I’ll tell you when you need to know it. My new purpose is to carry out the Hero Killer’s will."

Shigaraki scoffed. "That wasn’t what I asked you, Patchwork. Jeez, why’s everyone so obsessed with Stain?"

Y/N raised a hand. "Okay, I’m not the smartest person here, but… why are we carrying out the Hero Killer’s wish when he’s not dead? Isn’t he just in prison? Shouldn’t we have our own wish if this is our group? Why are we living off someone else’s—"

"Shut up."

Shigaraki stood.

"It’s all I ever hear about. Every. Damn. Day. It’s pissing me off!"

"No, don’t do it!" Kurogiri warned.

...The hell was he about to do?

"WE’LL KEEP THE BOY. THE TWO OF YOU ARE DONE!" Shigaraki roared, throwing his hands toward them.

Dabi immediately countered, flames sparking to life.

Y/N grabbed Toga before she could do anything—or get herself killed—but not before swiping her knife. If it came down to it, he wasn’t against stabbing the dude’s hand. He hadn’t killed anyone, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t fight.

Before anyone’s attacks landed, purple smoke engulfed them, warping their hands away from each other.

Portal quirk.

"Please calm yourself, Tomura Shigaraki."

Why did this dude keep saying his full name like it was some official title?

"If your desire is to be realized, then we must increase our numbers."

Y/N sighed, already tuning out the conversation.

He flipped Toga’s knife in his hand before passing it back to her. She immediately latched onto his back like a koala.

"I’m outta here."

Y/N moved past the still-fuming League leader. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this guy yet, but he definitely didn’t like how that ended.

"Where are you going?"

"Shut up."

Giran sighed, shaking his head. "I try not to complain about my clients, but he’s too young and far too immature."

"Really thought he was gonna kill us for a sec!" Toga giggled, finally hopping off Y/N’s back.

"Yeah, he looks like he needs a psych ward. Like you, Toga."

Toga pouted, weakly punching his shoulder.

"That guy makes me wanna vomit."

"I’ve only known you for, like, thirty minutes, and I think everything makes you wanna throw up."

"What’d you say?"

"I said—"

"Shut up! No one asked you anyway!"

"Okay, Patchwork."

"What?!"

"I said okay, Patchwork. I’m gonna keep calling you that, too."

"I hope you drown."

"Been hoping for that a long time, dude."

─────── • ✧ • ───────

"I can't believe we're actually in the league! Oh my gosh this is gonna be so cool! I can't wait! And it'll be even better with you Y/N-kun!" Toga yells, blushing to herself as the both of them sat on top of a building.

"... How high do you think I'd have to jump to crack my skull?"

"... What?"

Y/N turns to Toga only to be graced with a small smile concealing her worried expression.

"... Oh sorry, I wasn't trying to scare you."

"No, you didn't scare me... I just... I think it's about two stores high."

That was the first time anyone had answered him a question like that before, and of course it had to be the crazy blood stealing girl.

"Alright."

"..."

"..."

"Hey... Y/N-kun?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you call me Himiko?"

"... Why?" Y/N inquired, wondering if he was being caught in some strange trap by her again.

"Well because I love you and it's just that I don't want to see you die yet. I want to be there for you like you were there for me before and I want you to love me too."

"Um... I was never there for you though-"

"Yes you were! You were always there, someone that was always consistently in my life!"

"... Is that because you were stalking me?"

"I wouldn't call it stalking, I'd call it a romantic walk that you didn't know you were doing with me!"

"Oh... Alright." Y/N sighed slightly, letting you ye girl hug him as he looked down at the people below. Everyone was just walking around, trying to get the last of what they needed so that they didn't have to stay out too late.

None of these people would be prepared for something like the league of villains... So why was he partaking in this? He was one of these citizens, one of these people.

"Do you love me Y/N-kun?"

Y/N briefly turned to look at Toga once again, her sick and flustered smile looking right back at him.

"... No... I don't love you Himiko."

Toga nodded her head, accepting the answer for what it was before looking up at the sky. The stars were very pretty when there weren't many lights.

Y/N though for a bit more about this whole thing, not sure why he was agreeing to this. Sure he didn't value his life all that much but he had family, he had people that cared about him, and he had people he cared about.

But there was something about this that made him feel excited and energetic about it all. He can't remember the last time he felt so much thrill being near a person that could kill him.

It was always him that was trying to kill himself, not someone trying to kill him. No one had ever tried to kill him before.

It was exhilarating.

Heck, the guy wasn't even really trying to kill him, he was trying to kill Dabi and Toga and yet he had pulled her out of the way to protect her. It seemed like he'd really enjoy being a villain but at the same time, he could be a pretty good hero.

He must have been a villain or a hero in his past life because even with that sudden stress he felt so calm, like nothing had even occurred and he wasn't bored like he had nothing to do either.

If this villain thing didn't work, he would try to transfer into a hero school like UA or something like that, though that was setting the bar higher, it was something.

He actually didn't feel like killing himself right now.

"Hey.... Himiko?"

She didn't respond and when Y/N looked at her, she was asleep, resting her head against his shoulder.

"I don't love you... But I think I like you, I'd like to be a villain as long as you're there." He mumbled, gently placing his hand on top of her head.

How did he even let an evil and crazy yandere girl swoon him into joining her in a group of other evil people?

He's not sure but at the moment, he doesn't mind. He'll figure out the details later.

Wow, he's actually feeling pretty okay right now.

[irritatedirishfrog]

"𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝟐.𝟎"

▶︎ "JUST SO YOU KNOW, I'VE ALWAYS LOVED LISTENING TO YOU TALK ABOUT YOUR DREAMS. SO, BECAUSE THE FUTURE IS AN EMPTY BOOK, MAKE SURE YOU INCLUDE THEM IN YOUR LIFE." ─────────────────

『 ✧ 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 ! ⋆ 』

Hi! Thank you for joining me in my own delirious bullshit.

No, I will not acknowledge that most of my life is just making fanfiction of make-believe anime characters. And yes, I will continue to do so until I run out of ideas.

Which will probably never happen.

All my continuation stories are posted on Wattpad, under the username of '⇢ ✧･ﾟ𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄' , or 'pandacloudlover', so maybe check them out sometime!

Or not, you may lose a couple brain cells doing so, I recommend studying more instead of taking the time to fuel the terrible or good life choices that led me here.

Most of the stories here are just one shots.

If you're like me though, single, lonely, broke as shit, and sitting down on a couch shoveling a bunch of ice cream down your mouth, then you've come to the right place!

So once again, thank you for reading and supporting me. It means a lot despite my deterring opinions of the time I spend making fanfic.

I can only hope that one day I'll be as talented as some who've created their own ideas and worlds.

──────────────────── ⟢

❝ SEARCHING FOR SOMEONE TO BLAME YOUR PROBLEMS ON I'VE FOUND IS SUCH A PAIN. ❞

➥ [ ⇢ ✧･ﾟ𝐀𝐂𝐄 ┊ @irritatedirishfrog ]

↳ online writer/author and editor

↳ regrowing past fics, just making them better

↳ will accept requests 9/10 times.

➢ themainreactor • pandacloudlover • alovingcloud • irritatedirishfrog

➢ Love angst (a little too much) 〃 ROMANCE 〃 action!

──────────────────── ⟢

▶︎ “THERES NO FUTURE FOR PEOPLE WHO WORSHIP THE FUTURE, YET FORGET THE PAST.”

─────────────────

→ — Shun Kazama, (2011) | FROM UP ON POPPY HILL

┌─────── ∘°❉°∘ ───────┐

✧ TABLE OF CONTENTS! ⋆

└─────── °∘❉∘° ───────┘

NEW SERIES: "MY ROMAN EMPIRE IS..." ─────── In which, I come up with scarily dumb but sometimes sad headcannons that linger around rent-free in my brain.

𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ━━ ANIME

𝘽𝙉𝙃𝘼

shoto todoroki "𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬"

𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘬𝘰 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘢 "𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞"

𝙆𝙉𝙔

giyu tomioka "𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫"

𝙅𝙅𝙆

itadori yuji "𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞"

𝘮𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘪 𝘧𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘰 "𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞"

𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘶 "𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭"

𝙒𝘽𝙆

𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴 "𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐱"

─────── 𝘞𝘈𝘛𝘛𝘗𝘈𝘋 𝘚𝘛𝘖𝘙𝘌𝘚 ───────

.𖥔 ݁ ˖𖦹⭒°｡⋆ [ 𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 || 𝐉𝐉𝐊 ] ❝ᴀ ʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀɴ❞

✿⋆.˚⋆₊ ⊹ [ 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑? || 𝐂𝐒𝐌 ] ❝ᴀ ʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴅᴇɴᴊɪ'ꜱ ɴᴇᴡ ɢɪʀʟꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ... ᴋɪɴᴅᴀ❞

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ [ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊 || 𝐊𝐍𝐘 ] ❝ᴀ ʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴀ ᴋɪᴅɴᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴏꜱꜱɪʙʟʏ ɴᴇᴡ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇᴅ ꜱᴀᴍᴜʀᴀɪ❞

.𖥔 ݁ ˖𖦹⭒°｡⋆ [ 𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐄 || 𝐁𝐍𝐇𝐀 ] ❝ᴀ ʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴀ ɢɪʀʟ ᴡʜᴏꜱᴇ ɴᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ᴀ ʜᴇʀᴏ ɴᴏʀ ᴠɪʟʟᴀɪɴ❞

✿⋆.˚⋆₊ ⊹ 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘚𝘖𝘖𝘕!:

[𝐉𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐌 || 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐔!!] [𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐑 || 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄] [𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐘𝐁𝐄𝐑, 𝐂𝐘𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓 || 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐏]

𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌!

[irritatedirishfrog]

"𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄"

𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘪 𝘺𝘶𝘫𝘪

*:･ﾟ✧ In which, Itadori and Sukuna both form an unusual crush on an even more unusual upper classmate. You seem so calm, yet you look deceitful and it scares Yuji to the point where he doesn't want to be around you. However, Sukuna knows what he saw, he can feel your power, so he pushes Yuji to befriend you.

──────────

Disclaimer!: old humor, like, from the 2023-2024 era

──────────

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

Yuji doesn't really know who you are.

He doesn't know why you're a sorcerer or how you're so much stronger than almost everyone else.

All he knows is that one day, you come on the training grounds outside with Gojo and the second years for some sort of sparring lesson.

All he knows is that you're three years older than him, with a burn mark on the inside of your elbow that trailed up to your shoulder, an eyebrow piercing, and a rather intimidating expression.

All he knew was that one moment he was fighting you, and the next moment? He was flat on his back with you restraining him.

That didn't just happen to him. It happened to his classmates too, in the same exact way. And Gojo just stood there, a pleased smirk on his face.

The second years were smart enough not to get involved, only watching since they had already gone through the same torture that had your name plastered all over it last year.

Megumi? Summoned almost all of his shikigami that wouldn't kill you. And all you did was dodge.

Dodge!?

The audacity to just just stand there, unfazed, while he attacked you, then take him down once he was exhausted? That was insane!

Same with Nobara. She tried everything she knew—from throwing her nails infused with cursed energy, to hammering her voodoo doll into a piece of cloth from your school uniform she had ripped off.

You flinched when the air around you exploded, but even with that, you still ended up winning, catching her by surprise through the smoke with ease.

Sukuna wanted to choke you out and teach you a lesson. He wasn’t even fighting you, but he was pissed just seeing you.

Yuji could just tell that if a person you respected told you to do something, you would probably do it without question. For example, if one of the higher-ups told you to kill him, you would probably kill him without any questions asked.

That wasn't what bothered Sukuna, what bothered him was that you were pretending. You weren't even going all out, he could just tell.

They could sense that you had no morals. Your eyes told him you’d seen things that would break most people, yet you remained unbothered—like you didn’t care.

You almost reminded Yuji of Sukuna, the nauseating demon that was using him as a vessel.

You weren’t innocent, yet you looked so simple, so quiet, so tranquil. Yuji didn’t like it. You were strange, yet unchanged.

He didn’t want to be around you; he felt scared.

That might have also been partly because he could hear Sukuna’s deep voice in his head, urging him to beat the crap out of you before he jumped out and killed you instead.

Yuji didn’t know why Sukuna was freaking out, but all he knew was that he was going to fight and win.

Until he fought you—and lost scarily fast.

Sukuna felt threatened in his own habitat. He could sense the pressure you were putting on his soul, the way you were a threat. As if you could kill him instantly if you wanted to—and you hadn’t even done anything dangerous yet.

Yuji lost faster than his classmates, never even getting a chance to use his cursed energy to attack. You just somehow got behind him, and it was over.

Now here he is, far too close to you as you restrain his hands, sitting between his legs so he can’t kick you.

He probably would have been turned on by your body against his if it weren’t for the dark, psycho stare you gave him. It was a glare that made it clear you were willing to kill him if he did anything out of line.

Still, he felt a little hot, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t just from the sparring.

Quickly after letting him go, you stood up and offered your hand. But Yuji dismissed you, not wanting to be near you for another second due to his embarrassment. He simply got up and walked away, sulking from his loss.

Nobara scolded him, telling him not to be a sore loser, while Megumi left, standing next to the bleachers as Gojo praised you and turned to his students.

Gojo explained that he started the day with an unfair sparring match with you because they needed to understand that hand-to-hand combat couldn’t just be learned—it had to become muscle memory.

He was basically making it clear that they would all be screwed against you because you were a killing machine who didn’t need to think.

Lesson learned. Whatever.

Yuji let it go, choosing not to be around you just in case he was misjudging you. If he was wrong, he didn’t want to be rude and accuse you of something you weren’t.

Besides, he thought you were hot—though that was beside the point.

Unfortunately, you intrigued Sukuna. He couldn’t sense any cursed energy from you, yet he could tell you were dangerous. And what better way to figure out what you were than to pester Yuji non-stop until he was exhausted?

“What do you even want?!” Yuji groaned, dragging a hand down his face as he lay in his dorm room, desperate for sleep. For nearly a month, Sukuna had been harassing him with endless comments about you—your presence, your movements, the way you carried yourself. And worst of all, how your body felt against his.

…Okay, maybe that last thought was just Sukuna being Sukuna. But the rest was frustrating enough to keep Yuji from getting any decent sleep.

“I want you to get close,” Sukuna said, his voice smug. Yuji almost recoiled in anger as the cursed spirit’s eye appeared on his cheek.

“That’s even more reason not to,” Yuji grumbled, forcing himself upright with a yawn. “You don’t do anything unless it benefits you.”

“I couldn’t care less what you think I’m planning,” Sukuna replied. “I just want to talk. Maybe play a bit.” His eye disappeared, replaced by a mouth that curved into a sharp grin.

“Exactly why I won’t do it! They don’t deserve to have your nasty ass hanging around them!” Yuji snapped, flicking the light on. He needed to move—anything to escape this stupid conversation.

“Watch your tongue, brat,” Sukuna warned, voice dark. “You and I both know what we saw in those eyes.”

Yuji had to admit—Sukuna was right. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that you were just an ordinary person, it wasn’t true.

You were more than that.

Whether you were depressed or some kind of high-functioning sociopath, one thing was certain—you weren’t innocent. You were dangerous. Borderline evil.

It was an unbridled power that even Gojo didn’t emanate. And the fact that Sukuna could sense it—despite being trapped in a body he couldn’t fully control—was unsettling. Just how strong were you?

“…Why?” Yuji asked with a sigh, stretching his arms over his head.

“I don’t need to explain myself to you.” Sukuna backtracked, going silent for a long while.

Finally. Peace. Maybe Yuji could actually sleep now.

He exhaled, flicked off the light, and crawled back into bed.

Silence.

Only the sound of his own breathing filled the room.

Until—

“If you must know—”

“Oh no. Oh my gosh.” Yuji groaned, shoving his face into his pillow. He did not want to hear Sukuna’s annoying voice right now. He didn’t want to think about you—who you were or what you might be.

“Quiet, brat. I was about to explain myself, but now I won’t, since I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“I didn’t ask for yours either.”

“You did when you swallowed my finger.”

Someone. Help. Him. Please.

He was going to strangle himself.

Sukuna could get used to bullying Yuji into doing whatever he wanted him to do, if it was this easy, then he could get anything.

“Let me sleep,” Yuji whined, rolling off the bed and hitting the floor with a dull thud. There was no way he was going to survive this.

“No,” Sukuna sneered. “Go talk to them. Otherwise, the next time I take control—I’ll kill them.”

“Damn it!” Yuji yelled, pushing himself up from the floor and stomping over to his dresser.

He pulled on his socks.

Then his slippers.

A shirt? Not worth the effort.

Instead, he grabbed a blanket, wrapping it around himself like some sleep-deprived gremlin. The exhaustion was so overwhelming it was almost funny.

Opening his dorm room door, he stepped into the silent hallway—only to immediately trip over his own feet and crash to the ground.

He let out a pitiful whine before groggily picking himself up. Hopefully, no one else had woken up. Not that he cared at this point. He was so done with life.

“Pathetic,” Sukuna scoffed in the back of his mind, barely holding back laughter.

“Shut up,” Yuji muttered, trudging down the hallway.

He wandered around, trying to remember which dorm was yours. When he finally found it, he hesitated before knocking lightly.

Waited, then knocked again.

If he were in his right mind, he wouldn’t be doing this. But he was so sleep-deprived he could hardly care how stupid he looked.

After a moment of silence, he knocked again, groaning under his breath. Screw it. The door was unlocked anyway.

Pushing it open, Yuji frowned when he realized the room was empty. He couldn’t help but admire how neat your room was as well. It was annoyingly spotless.

With an exasperated sigh, he shut the door. So much for that. Clearly, you weren’t sleeping—at least, not in your dorm.

Dragging his feet, he made his way back toward his dorm, passing the shared kitchen—then stopping in his tracks.

There you were.

Sitting on a stool in front of the counter, casually eating an apple while reading the back of some random box. You looked completely at ease, as if the late hours didn’t bother you at all.

Yuji watched for a moment, taking in how calm you seemed. For some reason, right then and there, he didn’t feel like you were hiding anything.

Was this really the same person who had kicked his ass a month ago?

Slowly, Yuji stepped into the dim kitchen light, trying not to startle you while also attempting to look casual. He reached for a cup, filling it with water as if that was the only reason he was here.

“Hey… how are you doing?” He asked with a small, tired smile, stifling a yawn. He didn't really want to make small talk, but he might as well before Sukuna decided to say something. Hopefully, you wouldn’t think he was weird.

“Good,” You nodded as you let out a quiet yawn of your own.

It was only then that he noticed something.

Something baffling.

Something flabbergasting.

Something that absolutely bamboozled him.

He could go on and on, but the bottom line was—what he was witnessing should’ve been illegal.

“…Are you eating a bell pepper?” Yuji blurted, completely forgetting to keep up the act of getting water.

“Yes… why?” You replied, taking another bite like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Yuji wasn’t upset that you were eating a bell pepper—he knew they were healthy. He wasn’t even upset that you were eating it without cutting it up.

No.

He was upset that he had thought it was an apple in the first place.

This was a problem because never in his life had he seen a human being—of any age—eat a raw, uncut bell pepper like it was a casual snack.

Like it was a fruit.

“Oh… okay. Um… wow. Well… good night?”

Who knew he could feel horny and deeply confused at the same time?

He wasn’t even sure if it was horniness—he just knew, without a doubt, that he wanted to be around you now.

You ate a bell pepper like you were just casually flipping off nature. Like, ‘Screw you and your apples.’

There was no way you were evil. No damn way someone with villainous intent could eat a bell pepper like that, people who were evil wouldn't have outed themselves that easily by doing what regular people never think of doing.

“Good night,” You sighed with a small but polite smile.

And then he saw your eyes again.

They were pretty—serious in color, a little blank—but this time, he could tell. You weren’t just going through the motions.

You were present.

And for the first time, you looked calm. Maybe even… happy.

“Wait… um, do you remember me?” Yuji asked, deciding to take a seat on the stool next to you.

“Yes… You’re Itadori, right?” you replied with the same relaxed smile, yawning before taking another bite of your bell pepper.

He still wasn’t over that. You were acting like it was completely normal.

“Yep, that’s me,” Yuji grinned, pointing at himself—only to feel his cheek start to move.

Damn it.

"Hey, brat."

“Brat?” you echoed, glancing at the sudden mouth on his cheek before looking back at Yuji himself.

“Sorry! That’s Sukuna. He, uh… does that sometimes.” Yuji rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to sound too embarrassed.

“Oh, right… He has a title, doesn’t he?”

"I’m the King of Curses, you weakling," Sukuna muttered, attempting to sound menacing.

But if he was expecting a reaction, he didn’t get one.

Instead, Sukuna found himself weirdly intrigued by the way your expression subtly shifted. The way you carried yourself now—calm, a little tired—was so different from the person who had fought him before.

And for some reason, he was drawn to that contrast.

“Well, nice to meet you,” You started, but before you could finish, the curse interrupted.

"Yeah, whatever. Don’t you forget it, rat! I’ll have you kn—"

“I’ll give you a moment to shut up.”

You didn’t raise your voice. You didn’t even look particularly threatening. But the bored and tired way you said it made Sukuna instantly go quiet.

Yuji blinked in shock.

“…Is he always this articulate?” you asked Yuji, teasing amusement slightly in your tone.

Yuji couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah, he’s an ass. And honestly? He’s kinda vile.”

“Well, he is the King of Curses.” You replied, completely unbothered.

Maybe it was the exhaustion, but you didn’t mind the company. Your insomnia wasn’t letting you sleep anyway, so this was a decent distraction.

“So… your night going well, Y/N?” Yuji asked, watching as you took another bite of your bell pepper.

“Yep. Yours?” You yawned.

“Good, good…” He nodded, then—seemingly out of nowhere—blurted, “How do you feel about Jennifer Lawrence?”

What a fun question.

“How do I feel about her? Well… she’s a great actress,” You shrugged, thinking back to the one movie you’d seen her in. That, and the interview where she randomly pulled a Rubik’s cube out of a plate of Jell-O.

“Yep…” Yuji nodded, though he looked like he was waiting for more.

Wait.

Didn’t both Jennifer Lawrence and Josh Hutcherson star in, like, three movies together?

That was something you could talk about.

“So… Have you seen that Josh Hutcherson edit?”

Yuji immediately groaned. “No! Don’t remind me of that tiktok trend! It’s all over my for you page and I’m gonna lose my shit!”

Safe to say, the two of you basically became best friends that night.

Now, Yuji definitely doesn’t hate you. In fact, he likes being around you a lot. You two have secret handshakes, inside jokes, and far too many conversations about Jennifer Lawrence and Josh Hutcherson.

Of course, Nobara loves calling him out for it. She says that he acts like a lost puppy around you and Megumi just asks him not to hurt your feelings too much.

Whether it be due to how hilarious you looked when you were eating a bell pepper or the fact that you could get Sukuna to shut up if he talked outta line he didn't know why he would act that way.

Either way, Yuji respects you.

And—unfortunately or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it—he’s also developed a crush.

Sukuna, on the other hand? He wants absolutely nothing to do with you.

Not in a million years.

His pride has been in shambles ever since you told him to shut up that night. But what was he supposed to do? Cry about it? God forbid.

Still, as much as he hates to admit it, he wouldn’t mind being a part of your life.

…Maybe.

Though, if he were being honest, you kind of made him uncomfortable with the fact that he was willingly evil. Which was insane, considering he was literally the King of Curses. And yet, something about you unsettled him in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

Not that he’d ever say that out loud.

But Yuji knows.

So now, whenever Yuji gets tired of Sukuna’s bullshit, and you’re not around to deal with him, he pulls out the ultimate weapon: You.

“If you don’t stop, I’m gonna let you out and tell Y/N to beat your ass.”

"Don’t you dare, brat!"

“Then be nice.”

"How dare you—I’m the King of—"

“Y/N!! Sukuna’s being an ass again!”

"Damn it, brat! I’M SHUTTING UP!"

“... Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

"... Useless-"

“That’s it.”

"Wait! No—!"

[irritatedirishfrog]

"𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐁𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒"

𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘪

*:･ﾟ✧ in which, Shoto's been dating you for the past year, and yet he isn't even sure that he loves you like he should. He can't help but feel guilty when he's provoked to marry you because now he feels like he's just using you to anger his father for the things he's done to him and his family in the past.

──── •✧• ────

You were Shoto's partner, a quirkless girl who he met working part time at a coffee shop. However, you were kind and hardworking, an enjoyable person to be around. Somehow, you had caught the attention of not just any person, but a future hero.

You were considered the bare minimum for most others. He got to learn a few of your other past relationships that ended badly because you weren't, 'up to par', but Shoto really couldn't understand their thought process.

He wanted to be around you all the time, almost an unhealthy amount of time.

When he talked to his mother last, she told him that what he was feeling was love, but he's not sure. It wasn't like the two of you were completely smitten, distracted by one another that you couldn't do anything responsible in your life...

Well, maybe he should ask you what you thought of throughout the day, because if he's being honest, he's distracted all the time with you. Of course, he'd never admit that to you because he'd rather not seem like a freak.

You were just such a gentle person, it was easy for his mind to just blank out on everything else and go back to you. Logically speaking, there was no point in him leaving you, ever. The two of you didn't fight, and you had to be one of the sweetest people he's ever met in his entire life.

There was just this... One problem, something that made him want to propose to you on a whim.

That one unfortunately irritating problem. That stubborn, stupid, annoying, absolutely anger inducing problem.

His father.

The man disapproved of you greatly, and oh how Shoto wished from time to time that his father would just croak and die.

It angered him knowing that his father would still try and control his life even when he became an adult. He knows that his father has changed, and he's grateful, he's forgiving him as much as he can right now. Shoto's taking baby steps.

But why did his dad have to ask about you?

How did he even know about you? He was sure he hadn't been vocal about you to anyone in his family besides his mother. How did he find out that you were quirkless? How did he find out you weren't even in UA?

The two had an argument and he was pissed, storming out of his house and everything. So what better way to revel in revenge than to use his father's credit card to pay for your engagement ring?

That was probably too far, uncomfortably too far.

After all, that would mean that the ring wasn't really bought with love... It was a haste decision and it didn't come from just him, it came from him trying to prove his father wrong.

He's only known you for a year.

And now here he was, almost two months later with a ring, a simple yet really pretty ring in a small white box stuffed in the pocket of his jacket that oddly reminded him of you.

Should he wait? Or should he propose to you now? Should he just break up with you entirely for your sake of not being involved with his father? If he was going to propose it would be really fast, but if he was really going to have to make it romantic.

Right?

He wants to prove to his father that he can make his own decisions and do what he wants. If he wants to marry a girl, why should he be stopped just because she was quirkless?

He wants to marry you... He's sure he wants to at least stay with you for as long as you'll allow him to. You, his beautiful girl that caught him, in a comforting, warm grasp. Out of nowhere, you just made him fall for you somehow.

He doesn't want you to ever let his heart go, and he wants to earn yours. He wants to make you happy because even though he's confused, he wants to believe it's love.

He loves you, but then his father comes to mind. Every. Single. Time.

"Damn it." He grumbled as he stood, being clearly frustrated at what his mind wouldn't allow him to settle down. Though the train was unwavering as it didn't stop for anyone's misfortune. It just kept swaying to its vigorous pace.

"You okay kid?" Aizawa questioned, nudging the heterochromia eyed boy out of his daydream.

"... Uh, yeah, I'm fine." Shoto just nodded.

Due to some of the safety precautions UA had in place, the students needed chaperones to escort them to their homes or others places outside of campus.

Shoto was lucky enough to have his own homeroom teacher this time around, Mr. Aizawa. Last time he was assigned Midnight and his sister accused her of being a little too friendly around him, he'd rather not have that same issue again.

Maybe Shoto should ask Mina or Kirishima what to do with this ring situation. Maybe even Midoriya would know something about this, after all, he did help him emotionally at the sports festival.

You knew almost nothing about his terribly raised life, but he knew your family and they were lovely. To the point where he wished he could be a part of it.

Your father was the calmest man he had ever met. At first, due to his rough exterior, it scared him. Until he saw him laughing and Shoto couldn't help but laugh with him.

Your brother however was a nightmare for a while, ready to kill Shoto in an instant if he dared to harm you. Thank God Shoto got off on the right foot with him, after a good two weeks, your brother deduced that he was in the clear.

He hasn't invited you to meet his family yet, well, not really. You had met his sibling a few time, Fuyumi and Natsuo, but you hadn't met his mother or his father... And he probably should have thought about this sooner, he's just not sure how to go about it.

Why did his father seem to ruin everything?

Slowly, Shoto started walking to the door when the train started stopping, Aizawa following him. Not a lot of people were in the train car thankfully, as felt almost lightheaded when he got off, knowing that he'd have to face you in a few moments.

Shoto still couldn't get his mind off of all of this, he couldn't think about you for some reason without sweating and following up his thought with his father.

If his father were still annoying enough to choose someone for Shoto like he said he would in the past, he'd probably choose someone like Momo. A rich ass Asian that made his rich ass family look so poor that it was ridiculous. Momo, always calm, smart, and a strong quirk to back her up. Momo, in his father's eyes, would be a logical choice for dating let alone marriage.

But that's what angered him so much.

Shoto could care less about Momo or his father, so why was he always thinking about what his father would think? About every single situation, he was thinking about what his father would see as good or bad.

He was absolutely livid by it.

Shoto huffed, walking out of the station to the general area of where he was heading to, your house. He was a man on a mission and for some reason, he was going to follow this through like the dumb ass he was.

I mean, he would have to, he bought the ring off of that stupid card his dad mindlessly carried in his wallet. Hopefully it would ruin his dad's credit.

Maybe he should steal one of Bakugou's romance novels, that way he could figure out what to do in this situation that wouldn't place him in jail for harassment or attempted murder.

Aizawa squinted at the back of Shoto's head as they continued to speed walk, trying to figure out what it was that was bothering is student. Another problem child, and one that he hadn't quite figured out yet.

Shoto was practically sprinting, almost making the strangers and citizens around him uncomfortable. He was always stoic and calm, but this week had been a rather difficult one.

Was he actually going to marry you? Technically he couldn't legally since he knew his father wouldn't allow it and since he was still a minor, he would have to wait until he was older.

He was going to make you his fiance though. Possibly. There was no real way to determine whether or not you would say yes. Were you as delusional as him that you would say yes to a proposal?

He would just take you to meet his siblings tonight, how hard would that be? They had invited him to dinner tonight and it would be a surprise for everyone. He didn't need to bother you with that tonight.

You almost remind him of a rose. A rose can harm him if he touches it too roughly because it has thorns, but at the same time, if he's not gentle enough, the rose will wither or he'll break it.

He doesn't want to be the one to leave you hurt and in pain, but if he pretends to love you, won't that also hurt you? What in the world is he supposed to do?

Before Shoto knows it, he's walking up to your family's house. If you weren't there, you were probably still at school or at the skate park since you didn't work today.

"I'll wait out here." Aizawa spoke after a moment, the duo standing in front of the small house.

Why is he so nervous to walk up the steps and knock on the door? Is it because of what he's been thinking or because he's about to touch the rose that might harm him or die on him?

"Right." Shoto quietly replied with, taking a few steps forward before stopping at the door.

Shoto felt like he might die from nervousness, despite this thought he knocked on the door anyway. Waiting for a few seconds before he thought about running away seemed to pay off, being welcomed in by the face of his girlfriend.

"Don't touch the dress!- Oh, Hi Shoto! I didn't know you were coming." You smiled, opening the door and allowing him to enter before yelling at your older brother again. "Don't touch it! I'm almost done making it so stooppp!"

Only for him to laugh, but oblige and scoot away from the dress.

Shoto stood still in the doorway for a moment, turning back to see that Aizawa had occupied himself with his phone already. Shoto only planned to be here for a moment, the three really heading to his families house after.

Still, something about this was strangely foreign to him, knowing that he was somehow hiding his privately idiotic mistake to everyone around him even though it should have been dealt with before he entered society again.

"Hey, who's that man outside?" You asked, turning around to look at Shoto again as he closed the door.

"Just my teacher-"

"So how's UA going?"

Shoto smiled a little bit, your brother having waved at him with his beaming grin like always.

"Good, hero training is always hard of course." Shoto replied before sitting down next to you. "But I think I'll get the hang of it soon."

"I'm sure you will." You chuckled, finishing the sewing needed to keep the ribbon on the dress.

It was a beautiful dress, one that would fit you or any other woman perfectly, Shoto almost forgot that you liked to make clothes, It seemed to be more of a hobby than a career though, even with the talent you had.

"Can I ask you a question?" Shoto mumbled, watching your hands hold the dress as you sewed a small gem on it.

He kinda wishes you would hold him like that.

... Wait, what? Was that a good thing to think about?

Probably not.

Shoto was almost sweating at how nervous he was, there was no way he was going to break up with you in this house, but there was no way he was going to propose to you here either. Especially while your brother was here.

What question did Kaminari say was good for relationships?

'Would you love me if I was a worm', right?

... What type of question was that?

"Sure, what is it?" You start, biting on the needle to finish something before placing your sewing kit and needle off to the side. "I'm all-"

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Your brother practically screamed, looking at his phone before walking towards you in a haste.

"Keiko Kitagawa is pregnant!"

"... Who again?" You question, tilting your head to the side as he gets his shoes on. Clearly you weren't familiar with the celebrity and neither was Shoto.

"The actress, stupid! I can't believe she's pregnant, now she's gonna stay with freaking Daigo forever!" Was all he could yell out.

Before he almost collapsed on the carpet and cried.

"What?" You deadpanned. "Don't act like a freak! She don't even know you like that-"

"Just imagine being hoodwinked by a man who sings for a band that hasn't been acknowledged for over thirty years, that's literally her husband!" Your brother growled, biting his phone case in anger.

Chaos. You two were absolute chaos. Sibling chaos that Shoto wasn't used to.

Maybe if Touya was still alive, he would be that way with him.

"Would you like to come on a dinner date with me?" Shoto suddenly blurted out. He was profusely sweating already, especially when you and your brother were quiet.

"... Really? Sure! when would we be going?" You grinned, moving the dress to the side.

"Uh, well... Right now." Shoto replies, trying his best to keep his breathing to a minimum. His heart was beating way too fast and he didn't like it.

"Right now? Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

You were surprised indeed, it was usually you who initiated dates and hangouts with him. In fact, you were almost too stunned to speak. You look towards your brother but you can already tell that he's still traumatized with his celebrity crush.

"Don't care, just bring her back at nine." He simply waved off, walking into the living room as he continued to look at his phone.

"Okay." Shoto mumbled, raising an eyebrow at the brother that was acting just a bit too depressed for something this dumb.

"I'm not dressed for anything nice though." You commented, fumbling with the collar of your t-shirt.

"Doesn't matter." Shoto simply replied, looking at your attire. You actually looked nice, regular jeans with a white strawberry shirt.

"Yes it does, I can't have you looking prettier than me."

He just sighed, though he had a soft smile. Allowing you to quickly run into your room to get ready, he found himself thinking that it was... Nice when you said that.

He liked hearing you call him pretty.

You come back about a minute later, a colorful sundress and a white dress jacket to put over.

He mostly didn't care, especially since he was just in a pair of jeans and a white. He did also have a plain, black button down shirt over, but how did that make him look any more ready for a date than you?

You looked very pretty too.

"Bye!" You yell towards your brother, him giving a small wave in response before the two lovebirds exited the house.

You were immediately met with the older sleep deprived man you had seen earlier, staring at him for a moment before turning to Shoto.

"I can't leave UA without someone." He shrugged.

"Ah... Hi sir."

The man nodded his head towards you, acknowledging your presence before stepping out of the way for the two of you to head out.

Shoto took your hand in his, walking down the stairs and leading the way for the now trio to head over to his house.

"Now that you're surprising me," You started, taking deliberate steps to slow his fast paced walk a little more. "Is it okay if I ask you a question this time?"

"Yes, what is it?" Shoto asked, turning his head to look at you only to be met with a strange expression.

A calm one, but one of slight concern. Why?

"You okay? I'm not asking if you're sick or anything, but are you feeling alright?"

He liked when you asked if he was okay... Now that he thinks about it, he likes a lot of things that you do around him.

"I'm fine."

"Don't mean to pry, it just seems like you're stressed is all." You sheepishly added.

"I just wanted to surprise you... You're always doing that for me anyway." He started, lightly rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. It calmed him, he didn't know whether or not you liked it, it was a small way of showing affection. "So I thought I would do it for you this time."

"... That's sweet, thank you."

Aizawa silently rolled his eyes at the teenage romance, though made no comment. It's just that, if he had known that this kid would be picking up their girlfriend, let alone had one, he would have forfeited taking Shoto around to All Might.

──── •✧• ────

"Why is it so Japanese?!" You whisper yelled as you stood in front of his house.

Aizawa just shrugging his shoulders alongside your surprised face, showing no care whatsoever.

"The interior is also made that way because it's more comfort-."

"I'm not ready for this!" You squeak out.

Shoto just stared at you trying to calm yourself down, figuring out rather quickly that you didn't want to know just how Japanese it was. He had to refrain from laughing, he didn't think this would make you so nervous.

"You look okay, I'm sure you're ready. Plus, you've met my siblings before."

"I would have dressed in something more formal than this if I knew we would be visiting your house!"

"Don't worry." He chuckled out, placing his hand on top of your shoulder in a side hug. "It's just my siblings today, and plus, they don't know that you're coming either so it's a surprise for everyone."

"Alright... Alright... I can do this, it's all good." You whispered again, taking a quick breath before groaning.

"Are you sure you don't wanna come in Mr. Aizawa?" Shoto offered again, asking that same question for the third time now. "My family wouldn't mind."

"I'm good, this is personal time for you." Aizawa nodded, staying behind.

Shoto finally opened the door, already hearing the chatter of his sister and her silent yelling at Natsuo to behave.

"Shoto, is that you?" Fuyumi asks, opening the sliding door that was inside before stopping in surprise at the guest.

"Yes... I brought a guest with me." He barely spoke out, his voice sounding foreign to him. He must have been nervous as well.

"That's lovely! The table will feel a lot fuller now, it's so great to see you again!" Fuyumi greets herself, hardly able to contain her excitement about it.

Fuyumi knew damn well who you were, after all, she also visited mother and it's not like her mother kept secrets from her family.

"It's nice to see you again too, Fuyumi." You reply, lightly taking her hand and giggling at her puppy dog eyes. Fuyumi liked guests, most company in general, so Shoto's happy that both of you seem to like each other.

"Come on inside!" Fuyumi waves, allowing you and Shoto to fully enter the house. "Natsuo, we have a guest!"

Fuyumi opens the dining room, not finding Natsuo and deciding that she should retreat to the kitchen.

"... It'll be just a moment." Fuyumi sighed, quickly speeding off.

For a few seconds it was just Shoto and you, standing in the somewhat closed off but endearing dining room.

"A guest?! One other than Shoto?!" Another voice shouted through the house.

"Yeah! I wouldn't be calling Shoto a guest, would I?"

"Don't get sarcastic with me!"

"Just be nice to her would you?!"

Shoto chuckled, leading you to the table to sit down next to him.

This seemed to be turning out good for now, maybe he didn't have to worry about anything. He didn't have to worry about his father, he didn't have to worry about the ring.

He knew that he was just being hyper about it, so he'll return the ring later. Yeah, that's the right thing to do.

"Whatever... Wait, her?" Natsuo yells out, questioning his sister before entering the room and seeing you. "Oh! His girlfriend!"

If he was a girl he would have squealed from how cute you were sitting next to his little brother. But he wasn't, so instead he decided to just smile and wave.

"Hi."

"Hi." You smiled at him, watching as he did a complete one eighty towards the kitchen as well.

"I'll be right back." Shoto starts, standing up before you lightly tapped on the back of his leg.

"Do you want me to help?"

"No, thank you." Shoto replied, not being able to keep away a small smile from you because of how cute you were.

He walked into the kitchen to help serve the table, but instead he was quietly bombarded by his two siblings.

"She's so cute! I almost forgot you were dating her since you don't ever tell us all that much about her!" Fuyumi whisper yells, quickly hugging onto Shoto before Natsuo pushes her away to state something else.

"Even I can tell that she's a keeper, also, have you been sleeping with her by any chance?"

"... No... Why?" Shoto mumbled, embarrassment shooting up his face and making him slightly flustered.

"Good, you haven't done it yet. I can give you some tips if you want, I'm pretty good at getting people laid." Natsuo starts, ruffling Shoto's hair before Shoto smacks his hand away.

"No, gross." Shoto rolled his eyes, now helping Fuyumi and Natsuo with the food that she made to bring onto the dining table.

As the three of them helped set the table, there was somewhat of a playful attitude that started brewing in the atmosphere. You also helped and that in turn got a lot of thankfulness from Fuyumi and teasing from Natsuo.

It was strange, you would assume that it would be a little more uncomfortable here since you were around.

"So... You like jazz?" Natsuo started, winking at you.

"Natsuo, don't be pushy! Or inappropriate!" Fuyumi scolds, hitting her elbow into his side. He only let out a grunt in response but didn't let up on what he thought was him being welcoming.

"What?! I was being serious, I want to know more about you if you're my brother's girlfriend."

"Yes, I do like jazz." You reply with a chuckle.

"Do you like anything else in particular?" Fuyumi jumped in, suddenly getting more curious. Natsuo of course, sees that as an opportunity to pull her down with him.

"Hah! Who's all pushy now!?" Natsuo quipped.

"Oh! Would you stop it?!" Fuyumi glared back. "You're making a very bad first impression!"

"Me making a lousy first impression!? Since when? My presence alone is welcoming."

Shoto found himself laughing just as much as you, not just from his siblings antics but from the different topics of conversation they passed along the dinner table. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing at first, however he liked the way that you interacted with them.

Even though he could tell throughout the night that you were a bit stiff with how you talked and acted, you eventually loosened up and it seemed that your charisma just came back naturally.

Until a problem occurred.

Of course a problem like this had to happen now. And now he's found himself worried all over again. That stubborn, stupid, annoying, absolutely anger inducing problem that he didn't need.

Immediately the dining room went quiet, surprising you as the trio of siblings listened. They looked like a group of meerkats, looking for a predator that they heard.

That's also when you realized that if they hadn't stopped talking, they wouldn't have heard the door of the house unlock.

"You told me he would be working the whole night." Shoto calmly stated, listening as he heard the door of the house now open.

"I thought he wouldn't be here, he didn't say anything to us about it."

"Damn he's gonna be all fatherly now, how riveting." Natsuo chuckled, though to you it sounded almost bitter. At the very least, spiteful.

"Natsuo!" Fuyumi scolded him again, lightly smacking his arm despite him not responding.

As calm as Shoto was acting, he was internally in fear of his mental sanity and the possibility of dying on the spot from stress. But he knew he needed to be calm, at the very least for your sake.

You didn't know how his Dad was, so you would assume he was like every father. After all, you had a good one, a practically perfect one compared to his.

"Hey dad, do you want me to set up a new place for you on the table?" Fuyumi questioned, standing up and watching her dad take off his shoes before walking away.

"Sure, I just have to wash up."

Damn.

His voice was deep, and not only that, it sounded hoarse. Probably from how much he may or may not have been yelling from his job.

For now, reaching out to touch Shoto's hand with your own from under the table would have to do in order to calm yourself down.

Shoto thought it was sweet, but he didn't really have much time to reminisce about you when he had to figure out how he was gonna explain all of this. He didn't tell his father he would be bringing you, there were a lot more things he didn't mention.

Like that freaking ring.

Before he even knew it, there was his father, barely registering that you were even there until he sat down. When he did notice you, he wasn't sure how to react, although he wasn't even really surprised.

That was a lie, he was completely surprised. His entire face was one of shock, despite him looking unbothered. You couldn't tell, but the three siblings could.

"... Evening." Enji greeted, blinking a few times as if you'd disappear the next time he opened his eyes.

He did figure that at some point his son would bring you home, he just didn't think it'd be today. As he recalled it, Shoto had told him that ' he wouldn't mind marrying her it would make him shut the hell up'.

"... Good evening..." You responded with a small smile, disregarding the fact that you felt like you were about to throw up.

"So... You are the girlfriend?" Enji starts, raising an eyebrow in your direction and then looking at Shoto.

"Yes sir." You nodded your head.

"Well... I guess we should talk about some things then."

You silently swallowed, looked at Shoto before realizing that him and his father were communicating with their facial expressions. Shoto wasn't having it, it was like he was threatening his that he would leave soon if he didn't stop about this.

"About what?" You question, tilting your head a little bit at the staring contest the two were having.

"A talk that's been long overdue about this relationship you have with my son."

Natsuo cringed, and though Fuyumi didn't make any facial expressions, she sure wasn't hungry anymore.

You were scared and Shoto was about to lose his shit. Mostly this was still due to the fact that his father still didn't know that he bought that engagement ring, but it also had to do with how annoyingly rude and blunt his father could be.

Even after three months, he didn't find out about the ring yet. Not that you needed to know either, at least not now. It's his father's fault for not checking his money.

"As far as I'm concerned, the conversation doesn't need to happen now, or ever." Shoto butted in with a calm tone, intensely glaring at his father with an unreadable expression.

"Yes it does Shoto, it was going to happen sooner or later and if it happened later than now, there would be a chance that you would actually stay with her."

... Ouch... That hurt... Like a lot.

Shoto was practically seething, his stare becoming that much harsher at that statement alone.

"I'm sure you know my son's going to UA."

"Yes sir, a school for heroes." You nod, staring at your lap before looking at him. Your stomach hurt, you almost felt like you were on your period.

"With that being said, I just don't think that this relationship is even reasonable to begin with." He added on, looking at you with a straight face.

The only reason Natsuo was still here was because of this specific conversation. He was just waiting for Shoto to freak out and yell at him.

"... Because I'm poor?" You slowly questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"... Uh, no that's not it," Enji sighed. "It's just that there's a lot of stress when you're training to be a professional."

"Right... So does it have anything to do with me being quirkless?"

Now Natsuo was more interested, leaning further into the table. Fuyumi was as well but she was able to hide it a bit better.

"No-"

"Well that's gotta be part of it, isn't it?" Shoto muttered, sounding as sarcastic as ever.

"Shoto, don't start-"

"Don't start what? You've started it."

"What's your reason for staying with her?"

"Because I can, I don't have to give you a reason."

"That's what I'm trying to say." Enji comments, sighing and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "See... I wasn't the best father when my kids were growing up... That's an understatement, I was a terrible father."

Now you're not sure if you feel uncomfortable, or relieved that Enji is trying to actively explain his thought process.

It seemed like he was trying to fix something.

"So, unfortunately my son likes to do things that I disapprove of. All I'm hoping is that Shoto isn't dating you just because he knows I don't like the prospect-"

"That's enough." Was all Shoto said as he stood up. If he stayed any longer, he would burn the dining table down from stress.

"Shoto, do you really see yourself with this girl in the future?"

Ouch... That hurt, like a lot. Again.

"Whether I do or not is none of your business!"

"Shoto." You mumbled, taking his hand to try and calm him down, though it only seemed to fuel his anger further towards the man in front of him that he was forced to call his dad.

"I am not trying to control you, but you have to think for once about this." Enji continued, clearly irritated but refusing to raise his voice at the boy.

"What am I supposed to be thinking about?"

"The fact that it's not a good idea to mess with someone's feelings because you're mad at me."

"I wasn't even mad at you until you brought this up!"

"If you're willing to interfere in someone's life because of me, then you should reconsider how you feel about that person."

"This doesn't have anything to do with you! I'll be with her because I want to be!"

Enji closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before speaking again.

"So it has nothing to do with me then?"

"No." Shoto grumbled, looking down at his feet. "Not everything revolves around you."

"As I recall-"

"I don't care what you recall! I'll do what I want and marry whoever the hell I want!"

Marry?

How cute, he misspoke and accidentally said he'd marry you...

Wait.

Natsuo choked on his water, practically dying of laughter. Fuyumi didn't even catch the slip up, she was just silently begging that this argument would stop.

"... Marry?" Enji probed, giving him a quick side eye.

Shit, shit! What did he say?!

Yet again he's said that same word, something wasn't adding up to Enji and he didn't like that.

Even you were looking up at him, finding it rather strange since Shoto wasn't one to say things by accident. He was always very deliberate in his speech just to make sure he said the right thing.

Not to deny that it was cute, it just seemed off.

"... I meant date... But that doesn't matter, you're not getting the point anyway."

He was trying to disregard the whole thing now. Enji just groaned, his head falling in his hands from exhaustion before he stared at his untouched food.

Shoto found himself also sighing, but he wasn't angry anymore. He released whatever tension he was feeling, and now he just wanted to leave.

"Let's go, I need to head back to my dorm-"

"... Is that why your teacher's outside my house?" Enji deadpanned, debating now if he should invite Aizawa in just to keep Shoto here.

"Yeah."

"Shoto, are you sure you don't wanna stay?" You questioned. It was as if you were urging him to stay, even if you weren't saying it.

"I gotta take you home too."

"Shoto, it's only seven forty." Fuyumi called out. "You can stay longer, can't you?"

Shoto didn't respond to Fuyumi, silently leaving the dining room without looking back at anyone else.

"... Sorry, for me leaving so fast," You smiled, though it was a much more nervous one. "But I can't wait to see you guys again!"

"Sure thing!" Natsuo grinned, giving you a thumbs up, Fuyumi simply waved, though she unfortunately looked more weary about the departure.

"Have a good night Mr. Todoroki."

Enji simply nodded, watching as you also exited the dining room. As the room became quiet again, Natsuo took one last bite of his food before standing up.

"Alright, well I think I'm going to bed."

"Natsuo-"

"Sis, just take a break would you?" Natsuo chuckled, gently patting her head. "You're always stressing yourself out, you should even sleep in tomorrow. Plus, we'll see her again, Shoto's stubborn after all."

Fuyumi rolled her eyes, but she obliged. If anything, Shoto would continue to date you just to piss his dad off even more.

She just hoped the next time they had dinner, the end of it wouldn't be so abrupt.

"Good dinner?" Aizawa spoke, putting his phone away when he saw the two exit the house. You nodded, but neither you or Shoto said anything.

Which led Aizawa to think that it wasn't all that good. Good thing he wasn't there.

You found yourself silently following Shoto, your eyebrows furrowed together in thought.

Shoto didn't even want to acknowledge what happened, he wanted to go to bed and completely ignore all of this. All of his stupid decisions that led to this moment.

"Shoto."

"Hmm?" He hummed, showing disinterest as the couple walked behind Aizawa.

"You're not telling me everything." You blurted out. "You haven't for a while, tonight just proved that."

Aizawa felt like crawling in a whole and dying right now, he had no intention to eavesdrop either. He wasn't a fan of drama like that, but it's not like he could tune them out when he was walking right next to them.

"Please, not now." Shoto muttered, looking down at his feet.

"Then when? Cause it seems like you keep pushing this off."

"Pushing what off?"

"Everything." You groaned. "About you, your life, family, everything. Is it because you don't trust me-"

"No, that's not it at all." Shoto interrupted, startling you a bit. He looked annoyed, as if you even bringing up distrust frustrated him. But why else would he be this secretive.

"Then why?"

No response, which in turn angered you further.

"You scared of something?"

"... No."

"You know everything about me, this relationship thing is called being vulnerable y'know?"

"... Heroes aren't supposed to be vulnerable."

"You're not a hero yet, you're too young to pretend like you don't care about life."

No response again, Shoto just looked down at his feet. Though you couldn't see his face anymore as he walked forward, you could tell that this was bothering him.

This was your first argument with him, but you weren't going to back down this time. Not again, it was too late for that.

He knew everything about you and your family, even the sad and terrible stuff. How your mother had run off because she felt like she could find more than what her father could give. How she had basically destroyed her family because she bore a quirkless child.

She had you, that's why she left. Despite that, you knew just by Shoto's face that he had gone through worse.

Yet here you are, falling in love with a boy that you didn't even know anything about.

All you knew was that there was a mom in a hospital, a pro hero dad, two siblings and a son destined to take the mantle of his father.

He still has yet to even tell you about the scar on his left side.

"Would you just talk to me!?" You finally yelled, glaring at him.

"... Do you love me?"

You stared at him for a moment, blinking as he finally turned around to look at you.

"... What?"

Aizawa looked between you and Shoto, something akin to worry or anxiety building up. At this moment, Aizawa decided that he wasn't going to stay any longer, he needed to leave you two for whatever personal issues you had.

"I'm sorry." Shoto sighed, not daring to look at you right now. He felt ashamed and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

"Uh... I'm gonna keep walking." Aizawa mumbled, pointing behind him. "When you two are done talking, catch up... Or whatever."

You replied to Aizawa with a simple nod, though your gaze was unwavering. You were confused to say the least, you didn't understand why Shoto felt like he had to look away from you.

You just wanted to know more, you wanted him to trust you.

"... Sorry about what?"

"I'm scared because I think my old man's right. I'm not sure if I'm dating you because I love you or if I just hate him so much."

For some reason, watching him look down at the ground, almost as if he was formally apologizing to you made your heart hurt.

"What do you mean?" You reply, trying to take his hand only for him to move away.

"I bought an engagement ring for you off of my father's credit card."

"... What?!"

"I did it because I wanted to prove to him that I will do what I want without his approval." He states, briefly looking up at you before looking back down. He was definitely ashamed.

"But, I'm worried because I didn't do it... For you... I did it in spite of him... I think he was right."

He took the stupid small white box out of his pocket and handed it to you. It was most definitely not a proper proposal but Shoto had no intention of proposing to you this way.

This was a declaration, that he was scared, that he wanted your help. That he wanted this relationship to be about you and him.

Not his father.

"I hate my father, so much." He started, finally looking at you and showing you how broken he was.

He was crying.

"I don't want to hate him, I want to forgive him... I want to love you, I think I love you. But I can't bear to just use you to make my father mad and then leave you."

"Do you want to leave me?" You ask, wanting to give him some sort of comfort, whether it be a hug or a kiss or something.

"No! But... I don't... I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to end up like him."

That was the real issue wasn't it?

Shoto wasn't angry at his father for disapproving of you, he didn't trust that he wouldn't end up like him.

He blames everything on his father, his mother being in the hospital, his scar, his quirk, his brother's death. But he doesn't want to end up like him, he never wants that to happen.

He doesn't want to have a child that blames everything on him because he wasn't a good enough dad.

He doesn't want you to end up like his mother because he couldn't control his anger or greed.

"Please... I... I don't know what to do." Shoto mumbled. "I can't-"

Without another word from you, you hugged him. Your embrace was comforting, it was tight, but somehow it made his heart yearn for you that much more.

He hoped that maybe, there was some sliver of a chance that this was actually love.

His mother says this is love, but he's still not sure. It wasn't like his parents love, the love that wasn't love at all. Only shown as love to cover up the convenience and the money.

Maybe it was its own love... His own love? He prays it is, because he doesn't want to leave you.

"I'm sorry." He cried into your shoulder, trying to stop himself from fully breaking down. How in the world was he going to keep you if he was like this?

"It's okay, cry as much as you need to."

And he cried, though it wasn't long. It was enough that he could feel some relief, enough that he didn't feel the need to cry anymore.

"I'm... Sorry, I don't know what to do."

"It's okay, I think that you'll be a great man someday, okay?" You remark, cupping his face to wipe his tears away. "So just try your hardest to keep on and I think you'll be okay, we're all only human after all."

He forgot, you were one to forgive everyone. You still put healthy boundaries around you but you would be the type of person to forgive his father because he was only human.

Not negating what he did, but you wouldn't torture his conscious by holding his past over his head.

You rubbed his back a little bit before letting him go, he also forgot how comforting you could be. It was silence for a moment after, but something about it seemed to match both Shoto and you.

Then in that moment, you tried to be serious, but instead you laughed like an idiot and Shoto found himself wide eyed.

"I can't believe you bought this off of your dad's credit card!"

It wasn't that big of a deal... Well it was, but he wasn't going to die over it.

"Here." You start, handing him the box only for him to push it back you.

"I may have bought it because of my dad... But I bought it for you." He replied, wanting you to keep it as he wiped his face again. "I'm not saying that I'm ready for anything like marriage yet... But I would like you to keep it for now."

"Okay sir." You chuckled, taking a hold of his hand slowly continuing your walk with him.

"... Y'know, It's so quiet in your neighborhood."

"Yeah... It is, almost no one is around."

"Hey, can you promise me something?" You asked Shoto, turning in his direction and looking at him with a soft smile.

"What is it?" He looked in your eyes and for some reason, he feels warm.

"If you do lose feelings for me, please tell me, that way I know."

"Wouldn't that hurt you?" He mumbled.

"Yes, but it would hurt less than you lying to me." Was all you said as you looked up into the sky.

"... Alright, I promise."

"If you don't lose feelings for me, then maybe you can marry me with the ring."

"Sure." He blushed almost immediately, turning his head to look away from you.

"At least it's a nice box."

"You just like the box?" Shoto chuckled as you held the box above your head.

"Yeah, I haven't opened it yet... Can I?"

"Yeah."

You slowly open the box, as if there would be a spider in it before you fully see it.

It was a pretty ring, a small, dark blue gemstone right in the middle of it. It was the shape of a circle and you could see the small crystal placements on the band around the blue gem.

"It's beautiful... How much did it cost?"

"About a quarter of a million."

"WHAT?!"

Shoto sighed, looking ahead of him and catching his eyes on Aizawa who had preoccupied himself with an alleycat.

"You gotta give it back while you still have time to do so!" You wheezed on, continuing to blurt out a bunch of sentences about how it was too expensive and that it would ruin has dad's credit. That and Shoto would probably get in trouble.

Well, good. Shoto wanted it to ruin his credit.

"No... I want you to have it, even if I don't marry you."

"I can't possibly keep-"

"Please... Please keep it." Shoto blurted, still holding your hand.

Unfortunately looking at you with the cutest expression in the history of forever. I mean, how could you say no to the poor baby?

"... Fine."

"Alright."

"..."

"..."

"Hey... I think I love you."

"... I love you too Shoto."

──── •✧• ────

"Oh my God."

Silence had been swept across the Todoroki household for quite some time now, the sun already retired as most other people had.

However, Fuyumi and Natsuo hadn't retired, let alone gotten ready for the night.

"Oh my God!" Fuyumi gasped again, both of her hands against the side of her head in worry.

"Yep." Natsuo sighed. "I didn't think he was actually that stupid."

Him and Fuyumi stared at the computer screen, the receipt of a rather expensive engagement ring thrown directly in their faces.

"Mom's ring isn't even that expensive!" Fuyumi groaned as she sat down in the office chair. "What're we supposed to do?!"

"We? Oh no, no, no. I am not doing anything." Natsuo chuckled, still staring at the computer.

"What do you mean?! We have to return that ring before dad finds-"

"Shh, think about this." Natsuo stops, squatting down to look at his older sister. "I told you that a saw this like two months ago, right?"

"Yes." Fuyumi mutters.

"Right, my computer wouldn't connect to the printer for some reason, so I used dads. However, when I saw this, I totally thought that whatever was bought was from dad."

"... Yeah?"

"It's on his credit card, don't you think he'll see it eventually-"

"Sure, but wouldn't it be better if we just fixed it before he found out?" Fuyumi scoffed.

"Found out what?"

Natsuo choked on his own saliva, turning to the computer screen in a feeble attempt to remove what was on it. Fuyumi started rambling, trying her best to distract her father whose eyes were now set on them.

"What's going on?" Enji muttered, walking past Fuyumi before lightly smacking Natsuo's hand away from the keyboard.

"I was... Well, we, um... Hah!"

"What she means to say is we were looking at receipts for something she needed to return at the mall, you know the one near your agency?"

Both Fuyumi and Natsuo stood together, Fuyumi cringing as soon as she saw the bank home screen.

"Why did you even lie? He can look through the history." Fuyumi whispered.

"... I don't know." Natsuo mumbled back.

"..."

"..."

"... Why don't we run-"

"Yep!" Fuyumi shuttered, immediately leaving the room with Natsuo hot on her tail.

And yet, despite their efforts to leave the man that would no doubt become wrathful soon, anyone could hear his rage from a mile away.

"SHOOTOO!!!"

[irritatedirishfrog]

"𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑"

𝘨𝘪𝘺𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘰𝘬𝘢

*:･ﾟ✧ in which, Giyu almost died and is afraid to rest without knowing whether or not you would still love him if he had passed away. He doesn't want you to forget him and he wants you to know that he loves you more than he thought he ever could.

━━━━°⌜ 鬼滅の刃 ⌟°━━━━

Giyu never thought that he was afraid to die. Heck, he never had been, never even considered it. After all, wasn't it just the natural order of things to die after living?

So what was the point in trying to avoid it? Death was inevitable.

At least that's what he had kept telling himself. But ever since he met you, it's been rather difficult to understand anything in a reasonable light.

He fell for you the moment that he set his eyes on you, unknowingly setting himself up for failure. Giving up his thoughts to the hands of a woman, that was dangerous, wasn't it?

You were a Hashira and you kept yourself so undetected that barely anyone even knew you.

When he first noticed you, his intentions weren't to be rude when he had asked who you were. For some reason, he was desperate to know you, like it was something he needed.

He only received a small smile and later he realized that you had been a Hashira for almost ten years... You had been a Hashira before he was even a demon slayer.

Apparently you didn't mind that he didn't know, or that he was the only Hashira to know you were alive at the moment.

Apparently this had happened multiple times where you would be in a room with everyone else and listen in without actually conversing or interacting with the others.

Apparently, you stood next to him every single meeting with the master. And he hadn't even noticed. Not once.

How? If you were always there, how come he didn't feel any sort of familiarity around you?

He felt guilty, like he didn't know what to do.

And yet here he was, watching as you sat down under a cherry blossom tree at your estate. You were just closing your eyes as if you were reminiscing in the quiet, nostalgic peace.

He was so confused, but intrigued at the same time.

He had even asked the other Hashira and demon slayers, trying to figure more about you. He just assumed that not knowing you was the unhealthy habit he had of shutting people out.

Only, he got answers that confused him even more, answers of 'who are you talking about?' Or 'I don't know'. Then Shinobu of course had to make fun of him for such a pretending, after all, it didn't seem like you were even a real person.

No one believed that there was another Hashira, and Giyu forced himself not to bother anyone about it.

Except for the master. Maybe he just saw a ghost too... But he had to be sure.

Kagaya Ubuyashiki knew who you were, thank goodness, it made Giyu feel a lot less crazy. The Master seemed happy about hearing your name come from a Hashira and he spoke about being proud of Giyu for noticing in the first place.

You were a very quiet and reserved person, yet your fighting style involved words. Basically, your breathing technique helped you tap into frequency, which in turn, gave you the power to control frequency and what people heard.

So technically... You had been staying undetected on purpose, using the breathing style to control the frequency your own body gave off as to not alert people of your existence.

Although, you must have slipped up when Giyu noticed you. He's even still baffled about your existence, he has no idea how to go about this.

"Try and get close to her, she's quiet and indifferent, like you. However, she has no one to talk to besides me and my family. She doesn't like to burden people, so she denies company but she needs to find a companion and you happen to be the first Hashira to notice her."

Those were the words that rang in Giyu's ear now. But the question was, how was he supposed to be around you if you were like him?

Even he knew how hard it was to be around himself so how much harder would it be to be around you, especially if you didn't want anyone around you to begin with?

It's not like it was going to stop him... Whether the master had told him to talk to you didn't matter, he would have done it anyway.

"Hello..." Giyu greeted you, feeling uneasy as he approached you.

Your head perked up at the voice, recognizing that the sound was familiar before you saw his face.

Giyu Tomioka, The Water Pillar Hashira. You were pretty sure that he would have forgotten you in due time, but instead he had decided to remember to talk to you again.

All he did in that moment was stand in front of you like a lost dog.

It was almost cute.

Maybe you could afford to indulge him.

"Hi." You finally replied, watching as Giyu decided to sit next to you under the tree.

Giyu seemed nervous, like he didn't want to make a bad impression. At the same time though, he looked like he might smack you if you insulted him.

What a strange look to such a young man.

"... Is your day going well?" He asked, looking ahead of him as he controlled his breathing. He didn't like how strange he felt, he wasn't sure if it was from your breathing technique or from him being so nervous, but he wanted it to stop.

"My day was fine... How about yours?"

"Good... My day was good." Giyu continued, not really sure what else to say.

This was a good way to start a conversation, right?

"Good, that's nice."

"... Your hair looks nice."

He's being very gentlemanly he thinks, that is a good thing when talking to women, right?

"... Thank you..."

"You're welcome."

He doesn't know what to do! Damn it! You weren't making this easy for him, you felt like such a kind and gentle person and he didn't understand you.

Why wouldn't you want to be seen when you look like this? Saying you were pretty was an understatement, you looked so surreal, as if you were from a dream. He can hear in your voice that if he were to have a deep conversation with you, your words would be eloquent.

It would be a treasure just to be considered someone of thought in your mind.

People had their choices, he respected that, however he wanted to get to know you without feeling like he was being so pushy.

"Why are you like this?" Giyu blurted out, finally looking at you with a straight face only to receive a confused glare from you.

"Pardon?"

Oh shit.

"Sorry, I just mean... Well..." Giyu mumbled, trying to find the right words to use. "... Why do you hide yourself from everyone else?"

"... Oh." Was all you said, not answering his question for some time before looking up at the sky.

"I don't... I don't like to cry."

Now you've just confused him even more than before. What would crying have to do with refusing to interact with people? Even with him, he didn't completely disappear.

"... Cry? What do you mean?" He asked, keeping his gaze on your face.

You look so wonderful to him and he wonders how he hadn't seen you before, even with your breathing technique.

"I don't want to get too close to people and have them die because I wasn't strong enough." You start, hoping he would understand. "I don't want anyone to have to cry when I die either. Death only brings pain and familiarity breeds contempt."

"... So you would rather have someone not know you existed than to mourn your death?" Giyu added, noting how much more quiet it got in your company. He had thought about stuff like this before, but clearly you thought about it all the time.

"Yes, I don't like to cry."

For quite some time, the two of you stay quiet, sitting under the tree and enjoying the silence... Well, you were enjoying the silence, Giyu was about to give himself a hernia from thinking too much.

As much as Giyu had taken a liking to you in such a short amount of time, he couldn't decide whether or not to label you as a psycho, a depressed person, or just a hermit.

You were willing to disappear to save yourself pain from others, as if you weren't even alive to begin with. And yet, he didn't understand why you would avoid the inevitable.

"Do you not have anyone?" Giyu spoke again.

"I have our master..." You comment, softly smiling at the thought since the man was someone who had allowed you to be her today. Kagaya was like a father to you.

"Anyone else?"

"... I suppose not."

Giyu stayed quiet again, thinking of something before sighing and standing up.

"Let me then."

"What?" You probed, confused at what he said.

"Let me be that other person."

You watched him as he stood his ground, clearly serious about what he said. He wanted to be around you, to make sure you were okay and he could care less whether it was for selfish reasons that he chose to ask.

"Why? You don't know me."

"I want to know you... Here."

Giyu pulls out a few... Questionable things from his mismatched haori, he seemed to be looking for something specific and it was making you slightly nervous since he shouldn't really be carrying a bunch of rope.

Why did he have that much rope?

Finally he pulls out a small ribbon and starts tying it around his wrist. Why? You have no damn clue.

"Whenever you enter a room that I'm in, you should pull on this, that way I know you're there." He starts, grabbing his other items, including the rope and placing them back in his haori.

"... I... Won't do that, why would I do that?" You continued to argue, scratching the back of your head in slight annoyance. You didn't want him to try so hard, otherwise he wouldn't forget about you.

"Because I want to know when you're around me, so I can be your acquaintance."

"You don't have to worry, I don't feel lonely or anything like that."

"That's fine, I just want to know when you're around."

This stubborn male, his attitude was irking you.

"But-"

"I insist... I will not try to force you to be different in the way you hide yourself, but I won't make you cry, I would like to at least be a companion for you to talk to."

For some reason his words made you feel warm, like he truly meant them. You didn't know why he wanted that, but it was sweet. Just scary at the same time. You weren't sure if you liked it or not but as far as you were concerned, this was something that you shouldn't allow.

After all, he might die and then you might end up crying. Or the other way around... You don't want him to cry because of you.

Then again... Maybe you could afford to indulge him a little bit longer.

What's the harm in that when he would eventually forget you anyway?

"Okay." You quietly sighed, showing that you gave up.

"Alright then." Giyu simply nodded.

And so, this went on for months, you pulling on that stupid little ribbon like he asked you to so that he would know you were there. The two of you have now become acquainted and maybe even close to friends. However you don't know what to do now.

You taught him things about yourself, your breathing technique and the way you fought while Giyu taught you about his own and even a bit of his past.

You felt stupid and you didn't like the unfamiliar feeling of getting so close to someone like you have with Giyu. You didn't like the feeling you had when you thought about him.

You didn't like it, in fact, you could say that you hated it. You hated it so much. And yet, you liked it at the same time.

It just scared you, because if you truly liked being around him, being this close to him, that would mean that you liked him.

He was supposed to forget you, but he didn't. Unfortunately for him, you just ended up coming on his mind more often than anyone else.

For him the thought was fortunate.

Eventually you got used to it... Kinda, even felt more comfortable about talking to him in general.

Eventually he didn't even need you to pull the ribbon for him to know you were in the room. But he still wore the tiny cloth. A stupid piece of fabric that made your heart flutter every time you saw it.

You still didn't like it and yet you felt very special to have someone like Giyu care enough about wanting to know you.

One thing that was for certain, Giyu was having a much harder time coming to terms with this than you were, you thought that you were the one having a hard time? Giyu's about to die.

He's always gentle and soft-spoken around you, yet his hands get all sweaty and he finds himself clamming up. He doesn't remember feeling this way around you before, he just remembers being nervous, not sweaty and lightheaded.

He doesn't remember getting vivid fascinations of you in his mind.

He even thought Shinobu might have accidentally overdosed on him the last time he did a psych eval, he was in absolute distress. He loved being around you, but he's so timid at the same time. He can't help but act differently around you than the other Hashira. He wanted to desperately kiss you and he had never wanted to kiss anyone in his life before.

It was almost as if he had a crush on you, like Mitsuri had talked about with people of the past. But there was no way to determine that, even with all the scrolls he read on the topic in hopes to explain what he was feeling.

He didn't like his chest tightening and his face brightening up. Most of the Hashira could even see the change in Giyu, how he looked more content, even with his neutral face.

What made it worse was the thoughts he had about you. His frantic fantasies about you being closer to him, being with him in ways he wouldn't dare utter aloud.

He had tried to talk to Kagaya about it, but he had just dismissed him with a laugh, saying that he would get used to it over time and that it was an experience to try and keep.

Giyu had to make it worse by being bold one day and kissing your cheek after you had come back from the Swordsmith village. It was the week before he had left for his mission, the week before his midlife crisis if you will.

His feelings for you made him want to hide in a corner for the rest of his life. This is why no one likes him, he's sure, he's a creep and thinks things that he shouldn't about other women... Then again, he's never thought about it with another woman besides you, but still.

Everyone spoke of him being a lonely weirdo that wouldn't find anyone, but maybe he would.

Mitsuri, Rengoku and Uzui have been sure that he's in love, they've even started trying to figure out who it was. Sanemi and Obanai just think he's high, and Shinobu has been poking fun at him for a little too long, either way though, he doesn't care.

He likes it, he's sure that he'll eventually like this feeling. Because he likes you, so much. Maybe too much

At the same time, he doesn't like this, it scares him because that would mean that he has fallen for you. He's fallen for you, and hard.

He likes you, no, loves you.

The only problem was the fact that you didn't want to be emotional, he knew that and he didn't want to cause you pain if anything were to happen to him.

Yet, he couldn't help himself when he wanted to be around you. It made him feel alive and he wasn't sure what to do.

So that's how he wakes up. In fear of the fact that he almost died on a mission. The impending love he has for you is about to explode in his chest, and his injuries weren't helping either.

All he knew is that he had to get to you, he had to tell you everything, had to be honest. Whether or not he ruined the relationship, whether or not you felt the same, even if he wasn't fully healed yet.

He was quick, barley fighting against the Kakushi the begged him to stay in bed. He just needed to get out of the butterfly mansion, not caring if he would hurt himself more.

Aoi tried to stop him, he wasn't trying to be rude. He even scared Shinobu when she watched him walk out of the mansion. She tried to tell him to rest but if she was being honest, there was no real point in trying when he was moving so fast.

When Giyu finally found you, you were standing outside and looking at the red, cloud-filled sunset, he wore a small smile, but even that couldn't mask the weariness that showed on his face.

Despite how tired he was, he wanted to see you first, before even allowing himself to rest. He wouldn't rest, not yet.

His feelings for you were so strong that even the exhaustion and pain he was experiencing wouldn't stand in the way of confirming something that he desperately needed to know.

"Giyu? Aren't you supposed to be at the butterfly mansion?" You questioned in surprise as you watched him walk towards him. You were nervous because here he was, trying to walk around outside like a normal person.

Not that Giyu wasn't strong, he was, and you loved seeing him when he was around.

You had listened to a conversation that Gyomei was having with Muichiro. He was saying that Giyu was going to be taken to the butterfly mansion for healing even though he could still stand and walk around when the clean up crew found him.

Giyu was taken back by your concern, but he quickly hid it behind his usual calm demeanor. It seemed out of character for him to show any kind of vulnerability. Not that he wasn't going to show it eventually.

"I was at the butterfly mansion, but I wanted to see you first, and check on you. How have you been? Are you doing alright?" Giyu inquired, hoping to see some sign of affection from you.

"... I'm fine, thank you." You chuckled, a small smile gracing your face. You were flattered that he wanted to check on you to make sure that you were okay, it was just funny that he was the one that almost died.

"You shouldn't be walking around like this when you're injured." You continued, standing still for a moment before looking at his hand.

Hesitantly, you touch his hand. Your fingers gently swiping across his palm before moving to his fingers.

His face heats up immediately and once again, his brain is going into overdrive. Thinking of things it definitely shouldn't have been thinking about and plaguing him with even more bittersweet longing.

Giyu didn't expect you to be so gentle with him, yet he welcomed the gesture. He always kept others at arm's length, but with you, he couldn't help but find himself comfortable enough to be touched.

That’s probably why he suddenly got all hard.

"I'm okay, it's really nothing." Giyu softly whispered, trying to downplay it "I'm just glad you're alright too."

You nodded your head, not looking at him and keeping your gaze focused on his hand. You knew that he was lying and not only was he injured, he was so stressed out that you could feel it in his hands and arms.

"You must be tired." Was all you said as you started to massage his fingers and then slowly up his arm. You felt bad for him since he looked so tired and the fact that he wanted to see you in this state was almost romantic. It was definitely cute.

Giyu's pride wouldn't allow him to accept any help normally, but he also knew that deep down he needed this. As you continued to massage his hands and arm, he found himself wanting to return the gesture.

When he finally looked at you, he found it hard to speak. The expression on your face made him feel butterflies in his stomach. In that moment, he could only think of how lucky he was to know such a woman like you.

He simply pulled you closer, halting your movement of trying to release tension from his hand. He was glad, relieved that you slipped up on your breathing technique. Otherwise he still wouldn't know you.

"I don't feel so tired anymore." He mumbled under his breath, not having a clue on what to do. This must have all been from instinct because he had no experience in this.

"No? Why not?" You lightly laughed, allowing him to pull you closer. Whether it was an attempt for a hug or something more you didn't know, but you felt comfortable.

Although you had a feeling he was trying to initiate something.

"Because, I think... I think that I want to be yours." Giyu answered, pulling you even closer, his face being mere inches away from yours.

He was going to love you forever, he's sure. And right now, he was waiting for the perfect moment to kiss you until you got tired of it and told him to stop. At least, in his mind it seemed like a good idea, it may have just been from your physical touch, but he's absolutely sure he loves you.

"... Want to be mine?" You ask as he slowly buried his head in the crook of your neck.

You felt strange, you felt more than strange. You and Giyu both had been courting in a way, and it was quite obvious that the two of you liked each other if anyone paid attention. Even so, you didn't really know what to do.

Giyu hugged you tighter before answering you, his words mixed with a soft chuckle of affection.

"Yeah... Well, I also want you to be mine." He admitted.

"... You should rest-"

"I'll rest later, it can wait."

You both had been so busy with Hashira work, beating around the bush to the point that this obvious romance that was brewing had been pushed to the side. Now that Giyu found some courage, it was time that you both dealt with this. He wasn't going to let you go without at least talking to you about how he felt.

"I was worried I wouldn't make it back... I was... I was so scared" Giyu confessed, his head still resting on your shoulder. "But I... I like you very much, I think... That I might even love you. So I wanted to come back to tell you that."

"... You... Do you really love me?" You pressed, wanting to hear him say it again. Maybe you should have paid more attention to your mother when she said that you'll experience a love like this.

"Yes, I... I love you more than anything, and I was scared of leaving without you knowing that. I don't know why, but I thought of you and I... I didn't know what to do, I know I love you."

"... I love you too." You reply with a small but warm smile, placing your hand on top of his head as Giyu kisses your cheek. "I missed you, I was hoping that you would be okay so that I could see you again. Maybe I should have said this to you sooner."

This confession was intimate, Giyu couldn't handle not kissing you anymore.

Looking up at you with eyes that were full of adoration, he moved his lips against yours. Giyu's hand moved behind your head, his thumb slowly caressing your cheek.

He was sure that he loved you, it couldn't be just lust because if it was, he wouldn't have thought about you when he almost encountered his death bed.

"Thank you for always being there for me." Giyu whispered. He was losing himself in a moment that he had never felt before, it felt like a joke that was meant to be cruel but turned out perfect.

"You're welcome." You mumbled, letting Giyu kiss your forehead before giving you a small kiss on your nose.

Heck, he could marry you right now and he wouldn't mind. In fact, he would love that.

You leaned in, kissing him and not knowing where to put your hands before finally deciding to let them hold onto Giyu's haori

Giyu had no time to feel lightheaded and embarrassed, he wasn't prepared but he wasn't going to hold off.

He loved you, and he knew that. He also knew that you must have loved him back. You wouldn't have kissed him back if you didn't. The two of you weren't strangers, acquaintances, or friends anymore.

He would be so happy if you would care to be his lover. Maybe in the future, his wife.

━━━━°⌜✧⌟°━━━━

"Next time we'll be prepared, I'm sure since-" Tanjiro rambled on.

Until he immediately stopped dead in his tracks, his gaze reaching a sight he wasn't expecting to see, Giyu and a woman he did not recognize.

It was surprising, but somehow it made perfect sense. Tanjiro couldn't help but smile at the lovingness that Giyu seemed to show the female, no wonder Tanjiro smelled something different about him last week.

Now, Tanjiro would have left to give them privacy if he hadn't been walking with both Zenitsu and Genya.

"Who is that?" Zenitsu purposefully glared at Giyu, gazing at the sight while trying his absolute best not to gush at how romantic it was at the same time.

"Does it matter!? Let's just go!" Genya stuttered, teenage hormonal embarrassment kicking in immediately.

"Shh! Don't yell Genya!"

"It seems like a demon slayer has caught the attention of a Water Hashira." Zenitsu grumbled. "How annoying, and she's so pretty too! Why do all the Hashira get the perfect girls!?"

"... At least he doesn't have three?" Tanjiro shrugged, referring to everyone's lovely sound Hashira.

"Jeez, can we go now!?" Genya complained.

"Come on Genya, have some fun!"

"Shh! Stop yelling, they're gonna hear us!" Tanjiro grimaced, ducking under a bush when they got too loud.

The trio was silent, almost certain they heard but surprised when nothing seemed to happen.

"... Alright, sightseeing over, so let's give them some privacy." Tanjiro comments, chuckling as the three of them walk off.

Tanjiro was apparently wrong about Giyu, along with everyone else. It seemed like he wouldn't be alone for the rest of his life, and Tanjiro could say that he was happy for him.

Giyu had a lover.