#-> everyone has to deal with what i held back for past half year

[saltlog]

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

The First Man

In most situations, when shit hits the fan, it's Lucifer you call. Lucifer the oldest, Lucifer who knows what to do and how to do it, Lucifer who thinks clearly and rationally in any situation.

Except, when it comes to MC.

When MC first arrived, half of what they did either confused or terrified some poor demon or angel. They weren't used to a human who hasn't been immersed in magic and demons and angels for years. Solomon was not a good standard to start with, everyone found that out the hard way.

MC takes in the world with wonder and without restraint. When that lack of restraint gets them in trouble, it's not Lucifer they call.

It's Mammon.

Mammon's the one Asmodeus calls when MC wanders off during a shopping trip and he can't get hold of them. He's the one Levi calls when MC drops suddenly off a call while walking home, the one Solomon calls when MC fails to arrive on time to an appointment.

It's become a source of...pride, for the second born, no matter how much everyone may call him scummy, or unreliable, or irresponsible, when it comes to the human, his human, everyone is second to him.

Even after MC forged pacts with each of his brothers, even after Lucifer's pact-mark painted their skin, still people looked to him, now it's for other reasons.

MC forgot their homework? He knows where they keep it.

Satan wants to buy them a suit for Diavolo's next fancy shindig? Mammon knows their exact size in every store they like.

Barbatos wants to surprise them with dinner after a rough week? Mammon knows their comfort foods and their current cravings.

No one knows his human better than he does, Mammon tells himself that whenever doubts creep in, he's reminded of it every time they smile at him, every time MC calls him their partner in crime.

Still, when his phone lights up with his older brother's name, he's expecting everything but what came next.

"MC has had an anxiety attack." Lucifer's calming drawl betrays the urgency of the situation. "I have brought them to the meeting room. They are staring off into space...I do not know what to do."

Mammon is off at a ground-eating pace immediately, pushing past demons in the bustling halls of RAD. It's the middle of the day, after all.

"I'm on m'way, just keep 'em somewhere quiet. They've been havin' a bad week for that anxiety crap."

"They appeared calm this morning."

Mammon chuckled sadly. "Yeah, I know."

"I see...I will wait here. Do not be long."

The call fell silent, and Mammon broke into a run, shoving people aside if he had too until he burst into the meeting room, finding MC sat in his usual seat at the table, curled up with their chin resting on their knees, staring off into nothing with glassy eyes.

Lucifer stands in unusual insecurity beside them, shoulders sagging in relief as soon as Mammon enters the room.

It wouldn't hit Mammon until much, much later, how much of a big deal it is that LUCIFER, called him, called him for help.

He couldn't think about that now, right now, he quietly slid into the seat beside his human, gently brushing the hair away from their forehead and watching their eyes slowly focus in on him.

"Hey human. Need a break?"

MC blinked, nodding slowly as they leaned into him. Non-verbal.

Mammon didn't make them speak, merely held out his hands and let them cling to his arm while he cast Lucifer a meaningful look. The eldest smiled gratefully.

MC shut their eyes, pressed their head against Mammon's shoulder and let him lead them home.

MC likes to do things with their hands when their anxious, once back in the safety of their room, they curl up around a colouring book, Mammon always close by if they need anything.

"Lucifer was worried." MC muttered, leaning into the demon's side was they cradled the hard-cover book against their knees.

"He'll live." Mammon whispered, reassuringly running his fingers through their hair. "Wanna tell me what's been on ye're mind?"

MC's eyes didn't wander from what their hands are doing, even as they softly share whatever comes to mind, talking without a filter. They don't need one, not with Mammon. He'll listen to whatever they have to say without judgement, always.

He can always be found, loyally at their side when they need him most.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Synopsis: Tabito Karasu has been in love with you for almost as long as he can remember. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like you have any intentions of reciprocating, considering you’ve only ever seen him as a child — and, more importantly, as your best friend’s little brother.

BLLK Masterlist | Part Two | Otoya Version

Pairing: Karasu x Reader

Total Word Count: 41.6k

Content Warnings: reader is older than karasu (by like two years so it’s nbd but it exists), no blue lock au, bratty baby karasu, jealous karasu, slow burn, childhood friends, i have no idea how to write kids just deal w it, karasu’s older sister is given a name (look at that word count LMAO i’m not calling her ‘karasu’s older sister’ the entire time), reader gets drunk at one point, karasu the goat of pining, yukimiya and otoya mentions ⁉️

A/N: yes this is inspired by the song “best friend’s brother” from victorious but has barely anything to do with it. yes this is probably the longest karasu fic you will ever read as of its publishing date (word count is not a typo it fr is that long). yes reader and karasu are fuck ass little kids for half of the fic. i have nothing to say for myself except that i love karasu so much and i cannot be stopped…also tumblr is an opp so i had to split this into two parts EEK i’m sorry!!

In a sea of bright, patterned umbrellas, only one was dark and plain. It was wide, the practical sort, all but dwarfing the girl who held it as she hurried along to the covered entrance of the school, her shoulders hunched against the wind and her steps brisk. You thought that she seemed small for your age, like a particularly strong breeze might blow her away entirely, and strangely gloomy, though this might’ve been an effect of the weather and not her personality.

Your own umbrella was cheery, a pink-striped thing that announced its presence in a most domineering way and clashed with the shades of orange and teal and green around it. You had found it pretty when your parents had given it to you, but now you were much more taken with the sole matte black one that wove in and out of the crowd, the clear raindrops resting on it like diamonds.

By the time you were past the cherry trees lining the parking lot, you had lost the girl and her black umbrella alike. It should’ve been impossible, considering what an anomaly it was, but then again that color was like a shadow, blending in unless one looked for it very carefully, and sometimes even then.

You would’ve worried, but you had bigger problems to be preoccupied with — namely, it was your first day of elementary school, and you had no idea what to expect. Setting the girl out of your mind, you used your free hand to fiddle with the name tag on your breast pocket, ducking under the roof before closing your umbrella and shaking the excess water off of it. Then you scurried after an older student who seemed like they knew where they were going, following them until you found yourself in a corridor you recognized from the tour you had taken with your parents prior to the start of the year.

In the classroom, there was a shelf where you could put your wet umbrellas in neat rows. You didn’t see any rhyme or reason to how they had been arranged, except that everyone had avoided putting theirs beside the dull, dark umbrella that you had admired. Glancing around at the rest of your classmates, who had already grouped themselves into loose clusters based on their seats, you set your umbrella beside the black one. For some reason, the pink stripes at that angle resembled frowns; you found it suitable, then, that those two were the only ones on that shelf. They seemed to go together, depressed and angry in turn.

Although you had not seen the girl’s face, you recognized her immediately. She sat apart from everyone else, her spindly limbs held close to her body, her heart-shaped face dominated by a pair of sapphire eyes, hair like an oil spill pulled into a high ponytail that cascaded down her back like tail-feathers. At first glance, she was unassuming, and at second she was entirely off-putting, but you were contrarian enough to take a third, and it was only then that you realized she was actually magnetic in a way, her lips pulled into a serene smile, her irises lively and brows high with interest.

“Hello,” you said, taking the seat beside her. “I’m Y/N L/N.”

It was the radical thing, what you had done in willingly isolating yourself from the others, but you found that you had no interest in those shallow peers of yours, who had not bothered to look at a person three times and see the truth of their being. This girl, with her black umbrella and her keen gaze and her bird-like countenance, was the only one in the entire room you wanted to befriend.

“Are you talking to me?” she said. Her accent was more pronounced than yours, which resembled the one of your Tokyo-born parents’ far more than it did the rougher cadences that most people in the region spoke with. The boisterousness of her voice contrasted sharply with her frail appearance, though to charming effect, and it warmed you to her even more.

“Uh-huh,” you said. “It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?”

“Karasu,” she said. “Yayoi Karasu. Good to meet you, too, L/N.”

Karasu. She was a crow, and as pretty and sharp as one, too. It was more fitting of a name than it ought to be, and you nodded, because your childish mind liked when things made sense, could be categorized into labeled boxes. Black umbrella. Blue eyes. Crow-wing hair. Yayoi Karasu.

“Let’s be friends,” you said, and maybe it was a blunt, straightforward request, but she did not seem to mind it.

“You want to be friends with me?” she said.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you said. She shrugged, bony shoulders brushing against her earlobes from the jerky motion.

“Don’t know. Just doesn’t seem like the others want to,” she said.

“The others are stupid. They’ll feel bad about it later, but by then we won’t need them,” you said.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s be friends, L/N.”

“If we’re friends, then you can call me Y/N,” you said.

She grinned, wide and gleaming. “Only if you call me Yayoi. Just Yayoi.”

When you got home that night, the first thing you did was race to the living room, where your mother was sitting, knitting needles stationary in her hands as she watched a drama.

“Mama!” you said, jumping onto the sofa beside her, tugging on her sleeve until she paused her show and looked at you. “Mama, I made a friend today.”

“Did you? How exciting! What’s their name?” she said.

“Yayoi Karasu, but she said I can just say Yayoi ’cause we’re friends,” you said.

“That’s wonderful,” your mother said. “Do you want to have Yayoi over sometime?”

“Hm, yes, I think so,” you said, already envisioning how fun it would be to play with her outside of school. You supposed you didn’t know much about what she liked to do, but you doubted it was anything you wouldn’t also enjoy, so there wouldn’t be a problem. There couldn’t be — the two of you were friends, and there were never problems between friends.

Within two weeks came an invitation, made before you could extend your own. The Karasu family wanted you to come over, and though your parents wished they had asked first, they did not mind that you were going, especially considering how elated you were when you relayed the news.

It was a short walk to Yayoi’s house, or perhaps it was that you were so excited which shortened the distance; either way, it hardly took any time at all before you and your mother were at their doorstep. You hid behind her leg when she knocked, suddenly timid, although you had no reason to be.

The woman who answered the door resembled Yayoi greatly, though she was fuller and taller and exuded an air of great confidence. She could only be Yayoi’s mother, and you wondered if this was the kind of person Yayoi would grow up to be.

“Are you Mrs. Karasu?” your mother said. The woman nodded, gesturing you into the home invitingly.

“Yes! You must be Mrs. L/N — Y/N’s mother?” she said.

“That’s right. Y/N, please say hello to Mrs. Karasu,” your mother said.

“Hello, Mrs. Karasu,” you said, your voice catching in the back of your throat. She had the same voice as Yayoi, the same exuberance to her words and geniality to her tone, but coming from her, it was almost intimidating.

“Yayoi should be in the playroom — down that hallway, the first door on your left. I’m surprised she didn’t come to the door to greet you; your visit is all she’s been able to talk about for the entire week,” Mrs. Karasu said.

“Y/N, too,” your mother said affectionately. You left them to speak in the kitchen, darting in the direction Mrs. Karasu had indicated, ducking into an appealingly decorated playroom.

The walls were painted pale yellow, and there were colorful bins stacked in the corners, labels written on them in black marker which detailed what their contents were. There was no sign of Yayoi, but in the center of the room, surrounded by a rainbow of blocks, was a little boy holding a model train in his hands.

He had the same hair as Yayoi, though while hers was sleek and flat, his stuck up every which way, a bitter warning to those who might’ve tried to tame it. His cheeks were rounder than hers, and his eyes were darker, the same deep shade as mulberry stains, but there was undeniably a resemblance between the two.

Though he was quite taken by the train he was playing with, he looked up when you opened the door to the room, and then he cocked his head, thick eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

“Do you know where Yayoi is?” you tried, hoping he could understand you. He was obviously younger than you and Yayoi, though you were unsure by how much — a year? Two?

“Ya-yi?” he repeated, stumbling over her name endearingly.

“Yes, Yayoi,” you said. “Where is she?”

He hummed in a whimsical way which clearly meant he had no clue, and then he raised his hand with the toy in it, beaming at you.

“D’you like my train?” he said.

“Yeah, it’s a cool color,” you said, not wanting to hurt his feelings. As an only child, this sort of interaction was out of your realm of expertise, but for some reason, you had an urge to try your best.

“My favorite,” he said. “Light blue.”

“That’s a good favorite,” you said. “So. Are you Yayoi’s little brother?”

“Yes,” he said enthusiastically. “I’m Tabito. Who are you? Ya-yi’s friend?”

“I’m Y/N,” you said. “Yayoi’s friend from school.”

“Y/N!” he said, like your name was the greatest word he had ever learned. “Let’s play trains! Can you play trains with me? Can we please play trains?”

You frowned. You needed to find Yayoi, but it wasn’t like you could wander around their house aimlessly, and Mrs. Karasu knew you were in the playroom, so your best course of action was staying put until your friend found you. Then, if that was the case, there was really no harm in obliging him, even if you weren’t an avid train enthusiast.

“Sure, alright,” you said, sitting down across from him and holding your hand out. “Give me one.”

He blinked at you. “Get your own.”

“I don’t know where you keep them, so I can’t,” you said.

“Then, um, then you can build, okay?” he said, piling blocks into your waiting hands. “Make a bridge. Do you know what a bridge is?”

“Yes?” you said. He seemed delighted by this, his entire face glowing from the simple affirmation; eager to keep his spirits high, you pointed at a point on the carpet. “Can I build it here?”

“Um…okay,” he said. It didn’t seem like he was particularly keen on the notion, but you were out of ideas at that point, so you just shrugged and began to stack the blocks into something resembling the bridges you had driven past on trips to your grandparents’ respective homes in Tokyo.

Tabito was too busy rolling the trains around the playroom to supervise your attempts at construction, so you were left to your own devices, designing it in the way you saw fit. Right when you had deemed the structure finished and turned to ask him if he liked it, the door to the playroom slammed open and Yayoi bounced in, hugging a hamper to her chest.

“Y/N! I’m sorry, I went to get all of my toys from my room, but then I had to go to the bathroom, so that’s why I’m late,” she said.

“It’s okay,” you said.

“Ya-yi!” Tabito said. “You’re playing with your upstairs toys? Can I also?”

“No way!” Yayoi said, hiding the hamper behind her. “Go somewhere else and leave Y/N and I alone!”

His lower lip trembled, and then, though he had been so happy only moments earlier, he broke into wailing sobs, causing Yayoi to groan and face-palm. Within seconds, Mrs. Karasu had burst into the room, looking around and only calming when she realized you were all alright, or at the least uninjured.

“What’s the matter?” she said.

“I told Tabito to leave Y/N and I alone and he just started crying!” Yayoi said.

“You should be nicer to your younger brother,” her mother reprimanded her, hands on her hips. “He’s still little. It’s up to you to be the bigger person in these kinds of disagreements.”

“I don’t wanna! He’s annoying! Can’t you take him away? We want to play with our toys now!” Yayoi said.

Tabito cried harder at this, hiccuping as Mrs. Karasu swept him into her arms with a sigh.

“Now, now, Tabito, don’t be upset,” she said, using her sleeve to wipe his teary cheeks. “Let’s go watch TV and let your sister play with her friend.”

“Okay!” he said, the tantrum dissipating as quickly as it had come. He rested his chin on his mother’s shoulder, waving a small hand at you as he and Mrs. Karasu rounded the corner, leaving you and Yayoi to play on your own.

“Finally,” Yayoi said. “Little brothers are the worst.”

“He made me build a bridge for his trains,” you said, pointing at your attempt at architecture. Yayoi giggled.

“That looks nothing like a bridge,” she said.

“I did my best,” you said. “How old is he?”

“He’s four,” she said. “And a total pain.”

“Really?” you said. Setting aside the fit he had had when Yayoi had demanded he leave, he hadn’t seemed like anything but a typical and cute little kid.

“You don’t get it because you don’t have to live with him, but he’s the worst,” she said. “And my mom always takes his side, too! It’s super unfair.”

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“Don’t you have any siblings?” she said.

“No, I’m an only child,” you said.

“Ah, that makes sense,” she said. “Anyways. Sorry you had to play with him.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” you said. “I didn’t mind.”

“Huh. Whatever; do you want to see my favorite stuffed animals?” she said.

“Sure!” you said. She dumped the contents of the hamper on the floor, and thus began your playdate, which mostly consisted of her introducing her toys to you and you clapping appropriately.

You were fairly certain Yayoi was a good friend — in fact, you supposed you could even call her your best friend, though you didn’t have many others who could’ve taken the position, so it was as much by default as it was out of any perceived loyalty. Even still, it was true that she was someone you were genuinely fond of, and who was genuinely fond of you in return, so the title was earned and not just awarded at random.

It was nice being with Yayoi. As you came to learn, she was more practical than gloomy and more shy than off-putting. Once those initial guards came down, she was as affable as anyone, or maybe even more so. Your prediction came true in another sense; now that your classmates, too, saw the truth of yours and Yayoi’s personalities, they began to seek you out in droves, trying to befriend you both, to bring you into their folds and mix you into their exclusive groups.

The two of you entertained these attempts, of course — neither of you were loners at heart, and indeed felt quite at ease amidst throngs of people — but in the end, you never strayed far from each other. It was a known fact that you and her were best friends, that where one of you went, the other would not be far behind, and so your peers quickly decided to go for a sort of joint-befriending strategy.

“L/N, Karasu, do you guys want to come to the park with us this weekend? My mom’s bringing snacks and stuff,” one of your classmates asked you. You had advanced a grade since you had all met for the first time, so in theory all of you had known one another for at least a year at this point, but all you could recall of the short, stocky boy was that his name was something like Akamine or Arakawa.

Typically, Yayoi would glance at you for confirmation, but today she rapidly nodded her head at the boy. Akamine? Arakawa? You wished that he would introduce himself so you were spared the embarrassment of asking.

“We’d love to, Aoyama. Thank you for inviting us,” she said. Aoyama. You had been astoundingly off the mark; silently thanking Yayoi, who had no doubt picked up on your struggle if not your distaste, you grunted.

“Sure,” you said. You had no great desire to go, not when this Saturday was supposed to be the first fair day after a week of rain. You’d rather spend it doing something of your own choosing, not playing in a park with people you hardly knew. But Yayoi was going, so you would, too, dutifully and without much complaint. “Though we’ll have to ask our parents first.”

It was just a formality. Neither Yayoi’s parents nor yours ever denied you from frolicking about with your school-friends, as long as you had done everything you needed to at home. In Yayoi’s case, it was that they were happy that she was coming out of her shell so rapidly, and for you, it was because your parents found it difficult to say no to you when you were their only and most beloved child.

As your mother’s weather app had predicted, there was sunlight on Saturday — gray and watery, to be sure, but it held fast in its patch of sky, its small corner of periwinkle which contrasted with the silvery lavender of the looming thunderheads threatening another storm in the near future.

You arrived at the park before Yayoi, and so you pretended to be famished, looking through the snacks that Aoyama’s mother had brought while you waited for her to come.

When she did, it was with an expression not too dissimilar to the clouds on the horizon on her face and a set of small fingers squeezed in between hers, their owner struggling to keep up with her furious, stomping pace.

“You brought Tabito?” you said when she reached where you were waiting. Her younger brother stood at her side, wearing a dark blue raincoat and a pair of black mittens, though it wasn’t that cold out. Someone — you could only assume his mother — had attempted to comb his hair back into something resembling a neat style, but they had mostly been unsuccessful, for it had not been tamed any.

“It wasn’t my choice,” Yayoi said, shooting the oblivious boy a dark glare. “My mom made me. According to her, it’s good for siblings to play together.”

“Look, Y/N,” Tabito said, pulling on your sleeve to get your attention and then opening his mouth wide, revealing a gaping hole in the row of his pearly upper teeth. “I lost my first tooth!”

“Did you throw it in the air?” you said.

“Of course,” he said, very self-importantly and more than a little derisively, as if you had been a fool to suggest otherwise.

“Good job,” you said. He was in his last year of kindergarten, and so he would soon join you and Yayoi at your school, which meant he was eager to learn everything he could from you in order to prepare for the momentous leap. This meant that there was not a person in the world who was a better listener than him; given, of course, that one was prepared to entertain his multitude of questions and did not find the curiosity to be a nuisance.

“Yayoi, can we go on the swings?” he said. He had, in the time you had known the two of them, accustomed himself to saying her name properly, though this was only a small consolation to the irritable Yayoi, who would rather he not say her name at all.

“Maybe later,” she said. “Right now, Y/N and I are going to play with our friends, but after that, we can go on the swings, okay? You just sit here and don’t get into trouble for a bit.”

For a moment, it seemed like he would argue, but around Tabito, Yayoi became a much bossier and more tyrannical version of herself, a version whose commands were impossible to deny, and so he only nodded.

“Come back quickly so we can swing,” he said beseechingly. Yayoi ruffled his hair, undoing her mother’s efforts entirely, and then she jutted her chin out in the direction of your classmates.

“We’ll be back before you know it,” she said.

“Do you think he’ll be okay if we just leave him there?” you said as you both walked towards where everyone was gathering on the slides.

“Yes, it’s not an issue,” she said. “He’ll be mopey for a bit, but that’s just the way of things. It’s his fault for getting upset when I said he couldn’t come with me and involving our mom in it! If he wanted to swing, he should’ve just waited until tomorrow when I said the two of us could go by ourselves instead of insisting he wanted to come today and see all of my friends.”

“Aw,” you said. “It’s kind of sweet that he wanted to meet your friends.”

“Try stupid,” she said. “Do you think any of them, besides you, will really be nice to him? It would’ve been better if he just stayed at home, but I didn’t want my mom to get mad at me.”

“That’s true,” you said. “Well, you would know better, so don’t take me too seriously.”

“I wish we could swap places,” she said. “I’d love to be an only child, and obviously you want a younger brother, so it would make everyone happy if we could trade roles, don’t you think?”

“You’d be sad if you didn’t have a sibling,” you said. “It’s a little bit lonely sometimes.”

“Seriously, you can have Tabito if you want,” she scoffed. “You’ll change your mind soon enough.”

She got carried away in a conversation with Aoyama after that. He was only too happy to oblige, although a needling sensation on the back of your neck alerted you to the fact that he was gazing at you all the while. You paid him no mind, though, preferring to observe everyone as they mingled about, waiting to see if anyone you could manage to tolerate would manifest.

Aoyama and his ilk were the sort of boneheaded future sports players that you least preferred. Normally, you were more outgoing than this, but in a group where you were so glaringly out of place, you withdrew into yourself, shrinking like a violet away from their brashness, which lacked a necessary amiability that would’ve made them far more approachable.

At one point, in an attempt to avoid Aoyama and his frequent stares, you glanced over your shoulder, pretending like you were checking on Tabito out of some sisterly duty. As an extension of Yayoi, it only made sense that you’d feel that same protective instinct for him, so no one questioned it when you muttered a quick farewell and made a beeline for where he was sitting.

Somehow, he had managed to stay in one place on the bench, his hands folded in his lap and his legs kicking in the air as he looked out at Yayoi forlornly. For some reason, he reminded you of a kitten which had been abandoned by its owner, so you stopped before him and poked him on the forehead to get his attention.

“Tabito,” you said. “Do you still want to go on the swings?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Is Yayoi coming?”

“Not yet,” you said. “But we can go together if you want.”

“You don’t want to play with your friends?” he said, hopping down from the bench and following you towards the swings anyways.

“Not really,” you said. “I’m only close with Yayoi anyways, and she’s busy with Aoyama at the moment.”

“Oh,” he said. It was an utterance filled with wisdom, or maybe that was just the impression he was trying to give off. Yet you earnestly believed at that moment that, despite his age, he understood what you meant when you said that, so you chose to think that it was the former.

“Do you need help getting on the swing?” you said when you reached the swing set.

“No, I can do it!” he said. “Watch, watch!”

He executed an inexplicable series of maneuvers that you could neither replicate nor even fathom, but somehow it ended up with him sitting squarely on the swing, his pale-knuckled hands gripping the chains tightly.

“Wow,” you said. “That was cool. Are you ready?”

“Yup!” he said. You pushed his back lightly, sending him soaring into the air, and the two of you continued in that manner for a while. It was meditative in a way; your mind was blank and the world was silent, save for the whistling of the wind. You didn’t have to care about what your annoying classmates would say next, or whether they were named Akamine or Arakawa or Aoyama or whatever.

If Tabito was your little brother, you’d take him to the playground every single day, and you’d push him on the swing for as long as he wanted. You were overcome with a sickening wave of jealousy for Yayoi, who could’ve done that but never did, and you wondered if this was how she felt towards you. Was it really that no one could ever just be satisfied with what they had? If you had been born with a sibling, would you have detested them as surely as Yayoi did Tabito?

There was another roll of thunder, louder and nearer this time than the last. A fat droplet of rain landed on your nose, and when Tabito next came closer to you, you caught him so that he would stop.

“What happened?” he said. “I want to keep swinging.”

“It looks like it’s about to start raining earlier than we thought,” you said. There was another droplet of rain, and then another, and another, in quicker and quicker succession until there was a verifiable deluge coming down. Tabito slid off of the swing, his left hand in your right as he pulled the hood of his raincoat up.

“Tabito!” It was Yayoi, running towards you and shouting frantically. “Y/N!”

“Yayoi, we should go!” you said as she skidded to a stop in the mulch bed of the swing set. She nodded, her eyelashes already clumping together, water trickling down her forehead. Grabbing Tabito’s other hand, she used her arm to cover her head, and you mirrored her actions, though it didn’t do much in the way of keeping you dry.

“My house is closer!” she shouted over another crack of thunder. All of you took off at a sprint, splashing through rapidly forming puddles without abandon as you raced towards her house, dragging Tabito along with you.

There was a sort of euphoria to it, and indeed you were all laughing as you went, despite the terror you felt with every new stroke of lightning. Tabito made sure to bring down his feet extra hard in the puddles, much to yours and Yayoi’s collective chagrin, as you were continuously sprayed with mud from his actions, but it was hard to tell him to stop when he was enjoying himself so thoroughly.

The three of you collapsed in the Karasus’ foyer right before the drumming beat of the rain increased even more, locking the door behind you and gasping for breath as you recovered from the exhausting run, Tabito sprawled atop Yayoi and your head leaning against her shoulder.

“I’m glad we’re all alright,” Yayoi said, hugging her brother tightly. He squirmed in her embrace, which only prompted her to squeeze him tighter until he yelled in protest.

“You three are a mess!” Mrs. Karasu said. Either the shutting of the door or Tabito’s shout had summoned her; regardless, she looked down at the set of you in fond disapproval, tugging you all to your feet. “By the time I’m done calling Y/N’s parents and letting them know where she is, I expect all of you to be washed up and in fresh clothes!”

You all exchanged glances before running up the stairs, shoving each other out of the way as you went, none of you wanting to be the last one to follow her directives, leaving behind wet footprints on the carpet wherever you stepped.

The next year, Tabito started primary school. For the most part, he walked to and from the building with you and Yayoi, holding onto his sister’s hand and listening to your conversations, frequently peppering his own interjections in. Every Wednesday, though, Yayoi had badminton club meetings, and you had art club, so he was left to walk by himself. Conversely, on Thursdays, he had soccer club — he was one of the youngest members, but he had been playing for two years at that point and could not fathom not joining the school team — which meant that you and Yayoi could dawdle as you wanted, walking at your own paces instead of the erratic one that Tabito often set.

That Wednesday, you were approached by Aoyama, who was a fellow member of the art club. He had neither the skill nor the aptitude for it, his paintings messy, the strokes of his calligraphy thick and runny, but no one could say he wasn’t determined. More than anyone in the entire club, he really tried his hardest, which was likely the sole reason he hadn’t yet been kicked out.

“Hey, L/N,” he said, jamming himself in between you and Yayoi as you walked to your afternoon classes. You sighed, having never found him agreeable despite how persistent he was. Yayoi gave him a dirty look; whatever friendliness she had had for him last year had long since vanished, replaced with the same disdain you held.

“Yes, Aoyama?” you said.

“Did you see art club’s canceled today?” he said.

“No, I didn’t. I haven’t had the chance to check the bulletin board. Did it say why?” you said.

“The teacher’s sick,” he said.

“I hope she gets better soon,” you said.

“Me, too,” he said. “I love the art club.”

“You sure do,” Yayoi said under her breath, earning an appreciative snicker from you and a perplexed look from Aoyama. She was privy to everything that happened in the art club courtesy of you; in exchange, she kept you updated about the goings-on of the badminton club, though these stories were decidedly less amusing, owing to the fact that most of the badminton club members were too dedicated to the sport to waste time with anything foolish enough to be entertaining.

Aoyama was bad at telling when he was unwanted, but even he could not deny that his presence was not required, and furthermore was an active impediment to your day. With a mumbled goodbye, he sped up so that he could reach your classroom before you and Yayoi, finally leaving you be once more.

“He’s so weird,” you said.

“Right?” Yayoi said. “Totally crazy. At least he was kind of helpful this time and only let you know that you don’t have art club today.”

“True, I was kind of scared he’d try to invite us to hang out with him again,” you said with a shudder. The corners of her eyes crinkled in sympathy.

“I think his birthday’s coming up. Do you think we’ll get invited to the party?” she said.

“I don’t know. Probably not. Girls and boys don’t go to each other’s birthday parties,” you said. “He might, though. It seems like he thinks we’re friends.”

“I guess we’ll see,” she said. “Are you just going to go home after school, then?”

“Yeah, it’s not like I have anything else to do,” you said. “Want me to walk with Tabito?”

“He’ll be alright if you don’t, but if you want to go that way, then it wouldn’t hurt,” she said. There were two routes you could take to get home from the school; one passed by the Karasu house, and the other was slightly shorter but in a different direction. Technically, you could’ve taken the second route today, but you didn’t mind walking for an extra minute or so to help out.

“Sure, I can do that. Do you think he’ll wait in the usual spot?” you said.

“Probably not. It’s not like he knows your meeting was canceled,” she reasoned. “But you should be able to catch up to him pretty quickly. He’s kind of distractible.”

It was true. Though he was a quick walker, Tabito was prone to stopping and staring at things which only he noticed, so it was hard to actually get to places in a reasonable time with him. That fact, combined with your comparatively longer strides, meant that even if he didn’t explicitly wait for you, you’d almost surely be able to walk most of the way home with him.

Students rolled out like an orderly tide the moment the bell rang, a veritable ocean of pressed shirts and dark shoes and jostling bags. Without an agreed-upon meeting point, it was impossible to find a person in the throng, and indeed you did not even attempt it, merely weaving through until the crowd began to thin as everyone dispersed, heading in different directions towards their respective homes and after-school activities.

It took you longer than you expected to find Tabito. He was standing in a patch of grass along the side of the road, his chin tilted up as he stared at a bird in wonder; it was so quintessentially him that you did not realize at first that something was wrong.

“Tabito!” you said cheerfully, tapping on his shoulder to get his attention. “My art club meeting got canceled, so we can walk back — did something happen?”

The jewel-like shade of his irises threw the rosy rims around his eyes into further relief. His dark lashes were bunched together with wetness, and his cheeks were puffy. Though he fought it, his lower lip trembled, and he sniffed when he noticed you frowning.

“No,” he said.

“Obviously, something did,” you said matter-of-factly. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying,” he mumbled.

“You can tell me what’s bothering you. I won’t make fun of you or anything,” you said. He shrugged stubbornly, shifting from foot to foot, gripping the straps of his backpack in his fists. You tried to think of what could’ve upset him. “Did you get yelled at in class?”

“No,” he said.

“Did you get in a fight with one of your friends?” you said.

“No,” he said.

“Hm. Has someone been messing with you?” you said. He was silent, but you knew you must’ve hit the mark because his cool facade — which was already terribly maintained in the first place — crumbled away entirely, his face falling and a small hiccup escaping him. “Oh, I see. You should’ve said something to Yayoi and I. Who is it? I'll yell at them.”

“It won’t help if you do,” he said quietly. “It’s better to just ignore them. I mean, it’s an average problem, so don’t make a big deal about it. They’ll probably go away after a while.”

“But it isn’t fair for you to have to deal with that on your own,” you said. “It’s not like it’s your fault. People like that just pick on whoever they have the chance to pick on. There’s those kinds of kids in my grade, too. Like you said, it’s common, but that doesn’t mean you have to accept it.”

“If you say something, it’ll just be worse the next time,” he said. “They’ll go away if I don’t pay attention to them. It’s not like I even care what they say. It doesn’t matter to me.”

When you pretended to look at the road, he brought up his forearm, rubbing his sleeve against his eyes in the moment where there was no one to notice. You saw it, but you did not bring it up, recognizing that it was something he’d rather not discuss.

“Alright,” you said as you set out towards his house. “If that’s what you want.”

“Yeah,” he said.

“But if you change your mind, or if you’re ever having another problem, I hope you know I don’t mind helping,” you said. “Think of me as another Yayoi.”

“You’re not like Yayoi,” he said.

“Well, no, of course not,” you said. “I can be like an older sister for you, though, the way she is. Do you get it now?”

“I don’t want you to be an older sister for me,” he said crossly, kicking a piece of stray gravel across the road. “And I won’t have any other problems.”

The only way to tame his unruly hair was with wax, which made it as stiff as a board and completely impossible for you and Yayoi to ruffle it the way you used to. You had to settle for poking him in the cheek; considering it irritated him no less, it was a worthy substitute.

“Are you trying to be all grown up just because you’re in elementary school now? You’re still a little kid, so no need to act tough,” you said.

“I’m not a little kid!” he whined.

“Sure,” you said.

“I’m not! I’m only two years younger than you, it’s not a lot!” he insisted. You grinned at him.

“It is a lot. You just started elementary school, and this is my third year here. That means I’m way more experienced than you, so you should look up to me,” you said.

He folded his arms across his chest, grumbling something to himself that he wouldn’t dare vocalize to you, all thoughts of whoever had been bothering him earlier vanished. Maybe it wasn’t the best method of cheering him up, but though his mood had not improved, at least it had changed. That was the best you could do, so as he held onto your hand while you crossed the street, you congratulated yourself on the small victory.

As Tabito continued through primary school, two things became evident: one, he was uncannily smart, his eerily observant nature lending itself to a genuine academic prowess that one could consider exceptional, and two, because of his pride in this ability, he refused to ask anyone for assistance, no matter how hard he was struggling.

“It’s so dumb,” Yayoi told you one day at recess, scrubbing at a graphite stain that someone else had left on her desk. “He’s totally lost with long division, but whenever my parents or I offer to help him, he gets super mad at us. Even my grandma tried! Although she doesn’t really remember much about mathematics, so I don’t know what the point was there…”

“He’s always been the independent type, though,” you said. “It’s not a surprise.”

“It’ll be a surprise when he does terribly on his next test,” she said. “Considering how things have been going as of late and how badly he’s been doing on his homework assignments.”

You swept stray eraser bits littering the floor into a neat pile and then gathered them in a dustpan, pouring them into the trashcan Yayoi had dragged over for your convenience, thinking this over.

“I can try helping him,” you said. “You have badminton club today, right? So it’ll just be us two walking home. I can ask him if he wants me to explain it.”

Unlike the previous year, when both of your clubs had met on the same day, Yayoi’s badminton club meetings were now held on Thursdays. This was because the previous club supervisor had stepped down, and the sole teacher willing to fill the vacancy was only free on that day.

“Good luck with that,” Yayoi said.

“Tabito’s my buddy,” you said. “I’m sure he’ll be okay with it.”

Likely due to your closeness with Yayoi — you had been each other’s best friends for going on four years now, after all — you had built up some kind of relationship with her little brother, who was usually present whenever you went to see her. Most of the time it felt like he was your sibling, too, and certainly he was one of the few kids his age that you could tolerate without looking down on too much.

“Yayoi mentioned you’ve been having some trouble with long division,” you said that afternoon. It was a pleasant day, the vast blue of the sky unmarred by clouds, except for a few which were so fleecy and eggshell-pale that almost no one could be offended by them. The season was spring, and soon it would be unbearably hot, but for now, it was lovely and breezy and you were content with things as they were.

“She’s making it up,” Tabito said.

“Really? That’s great,” you said. “I always found long division super difficult. I had to have my parents explain it to me a few times before I got it.”

He eyed you warily. “You did? I thought you were good at school. Yayoi always says you’re the smartest person in your class.”

“I don’t know about being the smartest person in the class or anything, but I’m pretty good at school, yeah,” you said. “I mean, I always get full marks on my exams, don’t I? That’s because I don’t feel shy about asking for help when I need it. Isn’t it better to deal with problems when they first happen? Because if you wait too long, you’ll only get more and more lost; then, you’ll need even more help than if you had just gotten it out of the way at the start.”

“That’s true,” he said.

“If you don’t want Yayoi or your parents to help you, then I don’t mind doing it. We finished cleaning early in recess, so we got our homework done then, and my parents won’t mind if I stay at your house for a little bit,” you said.

“Okay!” he said eagerly. You were taken aback; you had fully believed that he’d take more convincing than just that, but here he was, as excited as anything, all but rejuvenated at the prospect. Perhaps it really was that relieving to be given the permission to ask for help as well as a method to receive it. “After you help me, can we play together?”

You didn’t necessarily want to play with him, but he said it with such wide, shimmery eyes that you could not help nodding in agreement. You weren’t quite sure what playing with him entailed, but you doubted it would be anything difficult, and you supposed you didn’t have much else to do that afternoon, so it wasn’t as if it was some great sacrifice.

Tabito and Yayoi’s grandmother was the only other one who was home at that time, so you and Tabito spread out your things on the dining table without worry, taking out pencils and graph paper so that you could discuss the issue at hand.

“What part are you having difficulty with?” you said.

“Um,” he said. You waited, but he only twirled his pencil in one hand, training his gaze on the blank sheet of paper.

“If you don’t tell me, I can’t explain it,” you said. “I won’t make fun of you.”

“You promise?” he said.

“Yes, I promise,” you said.

“All of it,” he said. “The teacher explained it too quickly.”

“That’s okay,” you said kindly. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Here, I’ll show you, and if it’s too fast, then tell me so I know to slow down.”

Thankfully, he was quick on the uptake, and within a few minutes, he was able to complete the practice problems on his homework without any hassle or intervention from you. You were glad to see the ease with which he approached the things he had been struggling with only moments previously, finding that his success was also yours, in a way.

He continued working until his entire sheet was filled out, and then he snapped the book shut and shoved it back in his bag. You did the same, clearing the table of the mess you had made and packing your own bag with your supplies.

“You didn’t forget that you’re going to play with me, right?” he said. You put your folder into the back pocket of your backpack and shook your head.

“No, but I don’t want the table to be disorderly if your parents come back from work early or if your grandmother needs it for something,” you said. He seemed suspicious, snatching your bag from you once he could tell that you were finished putting everything into it.

“I’ll put it with mine,” he informed you. “You can take it once we’re done playing.”

“Uh, okay,” you said, bemused. He ran up the stairs, a backpack hanging off of each arm, and returned with the same speed he had left with, a net in his hands. You gave him a confused look at the odd choice in toys. “What’s that for?”

“It’s springtime, so we can catch bugs,” he said, unlatching the back door. You made a face, having no interest in bugs, but you had said that you’d play with him already, so with a sigh, you traipsed out into the Karasus’ backyard with him.

Fortunately, Tabito was pretty flexible with his definition of playing. He wandered around, capturing bugs and bringing them to you so you could see, but for the most part he left you to sit under one of their flowering trees, leaning against the trunk and closing your eyes in something that was not quite sleep but was very close to it.

The blossoms perfumed the air so that it was sweet and fresh, and the shadows of the tree-boughs were lacy and delicate on your face. Petals fell into your hair and against your skin, and a soft wind murmured through the grass, swearing a million hushed things to you, things that you could only decipher at this edge of consciousness.

You realized dreamily that it had been quite some time since you had been jostled awake by Tabito, who up until that point had been quite steadily displaying his catches — which were mostly of the mundane, garden variety — to you with great flourish. Wondering what he was doing, you fluttered your eyes open, only to find him standing a few steps in front of you, his net loose at his side, wearing an expression of awe the likes of which you had never seen on anyone before, least of all him. When you opened your mouth to ask him what he was doing, he shook his head rapidly.

“Shh,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “You’ll scare it.”

“What?” you said. “Scare what?”

“Oh, no,” he said as his statement came true, the butterfly which had been resting on your nose taking wing at the sound of your voice. You gasped, for you had thought the brush of its legs to be nothing but flowers shaken loose from their branches, and your hand flew to your face, fingers grazing over where it had been sitting only moments previously.

The butterfly had wings the same blue-violet color as Tabito’s eyes, framed with black and interspersed with pale spots. It floated away lazily and easily, dipping back towards you once before disappearing into the sky for good, flying somewhere far out of your reach. You both watched it go in silence — for some reason, it didn’t feel right to speak in that moment, as if you would interrupt something very sacred and precious if you did.

“That was a great purple emperor,” he said after a while. “Sasakia Charonda. It’s the national butterfly of Japan.”

“I’ve never seen one before,” you said, your heart racing, though you had no clue why.

“They usually stay up high,” he said. “That’s what the book Yayoi gave me said. Apparently, they only come down if they’re looking for food.”

“What do they like to eat?” you said. Insects were his interest at the moment; he jumped from topic to topic, reading as much as he could about one subject and then moving on to another when he grew bored. Yayoi found it frustrating when he began to talk about whatever he was fixated on at the moment, but you liked to indulge him when you could. After all, you would give anything to have someone who would listen to you, but if you could not have that, then you would at least like to be that person for another. For him.

“Sap and nectar and fruit juice, I think,” he said. “They prefer sweet things.”

You smiled. “It must have found me sweet, then, for it to have stayed there for so long.”

You couldn’t understand why, but his cheeks turned pink like the flowers blooming overhead, and then he spun on his heel and stormed inside without further response, leaving you to look back up at the sky and wonder if you’d ever see that butterfly again.

At twelve years old, you and Yayoi graduated elementary school alongside the rest of your peers. It was the biggest moment of your lives up until that point, a cause of terror as much as celebration. Junior high would be an entirely different experience than the one you had grown accustomed to, and the only consolation was that you both were attending the same one, so you would have each other’s company through the transition and beyond.

The graduation ceremony was short, with the principal giving a speech and then leading the parents in a round of applause for your achievements. Your mother and father sat beside Yayoi’s; Tabito was there, too, in between his grandmother and a man who bore a resemblance to your classmate Aoyama.

Tabito was ten now, and he was entirely contrary, doing the exact opposite of whatever he was told. It was especially so when the one telling him to do something was a person he was related to — namely, Yayoi, who frequently gave up and begged you to boss him around for her instead. He was less reluctant to follow your commands, though this might’ve been because you phrased them more as requests than anything.

He had not mentioned it outright, but given his amenability as of late, you sensed that he’d miss you and Yayoi once you began to attend junior high. It’d mean he was left alone, after all, left alone where once he had had you two as his companions. He was old enough now that you did not worry as much — if anyone tried to bother him the way they had when he was younger, you were assured that he’d manage them without breaking a sweat, but still, just because he did not need you and did not acknowledge it did not mean that he did not want you there.

His bored expression vanished when he met your eyes, the corners of his mouth lifting as he raised his hand in a shy wave. You could not wave back, not when you were supposed to maintain your composure onstage, but you dipped your chin ever-so-slightly in acknowledgement, scrunching your nose at him when you were sure your teacher was not looking.

As soon as the ceremony was completed, you filed off of the stage to meet your families outside. The moment your principal dismissed you, you took off towards your parents, leaping into your mother’s arms with a squeal.

“You did it!” she said.

“Congratulations, Y/N,” your father said, the lines of his face deepening from the force of his grin. “We’re so proud of you.”

“I can’t believe it,” you said. “Yayoi and I are going to go to middle school next year.”

“Both of you are going to do amazing,” your mother said.

“That’s for certain,” your father agreed. “Did you want to go talk to the Karasus? I’m sure that boy of theirs wants to say hi.”

They exchanged one of those looks that you were frustratingly aware of but could never interpret, and then they ushered you towards where Yayoi was standing with her family.

“Y/N!” Mrs. Karasu said when she noticed you. “Wonderful job, honey. We’re all so happy that you and Yayoi are going to continue to go to school together!”

“It’s true, we were just talking about it,” Mr. Karasu said. “It’s a lucky thing.”

“Isn’t it? And lucky for us, too, I’d say,” your father said. Mr. Karasu chuckled, slapping your father on the back in agreement. Thanks to you and Yayoi, your parents had become close, and indeed your fathers often claimed that they were each other’s ‘only friends.’ They were as glad as you were that you would not be split apart. After all, you doubted they could handle meeting new people and befriending them after so long together.

Your parents began to reminisce over the days when you and Yayoi were younger, and when you looked for Yayoi, you saw that she was talking to her grandmother, who she had always been close with. This left you to glance around in search of someone else to speak with yourself, though unfortunately, you soon came to the realization that there were not so many options.

“Y/N.” It was Tabito standing in front of you, his hands clasped behind his back. He scuffed the toe of his shoe against the pavement periodically, far more interested in the plumes of dust it created than anything, his head inclined towards his feet instead of at you. “Good job.”

“Thanks!” you said, glad to have a conversation partner. “It’ll be you, soon. Just two years! Are you excited?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he said. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to go to the same junior high school as you, though.”

“That’s okay,” you said. “Even if you did, it would only be for one year, and then we’d be graduating again. You should make the choice based on what’s right for you, not where Yayoi and I are.”

“What happens if you and Yayoi don’t go to high school together?” he said.

“Why are you already thinking about us going to high school? That’s so far away,” you said.

“I just wanna know,” he said. “Will you stop being friends with her?”

“I don’t think so,” you said. “I’d have no reason to. Besides, if that happens, we’ll already have been friends for over nine years. It’s hard to abandon someone you’ve known for that long. Why do you ask? Are you worried that you’ll lose your friends when you graduate? You shouldn’t be.”

“I don’t want you to stop being friends with Yayoi,” he said. You raised your eyebrows at him.

“You try to act all cool, but you’re actually a really caring little brother, you know,” you said. “It’s sweet of you to worry about her, but it’ll take a lot more than attending different schools to break us apart, and even if something like that happens, she’ll easily make more friends, so it’s no cause to stress.”

“That’s not—”

“L/N, hey!”

Whatever Tabito was going to say was cut off by the arrival of your fellow art club member, Aoyama. He grabbed you in a hug before you could react, squeezing you in a vice grip that was impossible to escape from. You patted him on the back awkwardly until he let you go, though his fingers remained on your upper arms and he stayed leaning close to you.

“Hey, Aoyama,” you said. “Congrats on graduating.”

“You, too,” he said. “Oh, who’s this?”

“Yayoi’s little brother,” you said. Aoyama squinted at Tabito before nodding.

“I can see it — there’s definitely a resemblance. Hi, little Karasu! I’m Aoyama. I’ve been in the same class as your older sister and L/N here for the past few years,” he said. The way he introduced himself made it seem as if the three of you were particularly close, but indeed, other than your weekly art club meetings, neither you nor Yayoi had interacted much with the boy in the past couple of years.

“Hi,” Tabito said stiffly.

“He’s two years younger than us,” you added, in an attempt to smooth over Tabito’s surliness.

“That’s it?” Aoyama said. “He looks so small.”

“I’m not small!” Tabito said, but considering how much shorter he was than you and Aoyama, it wasn’t that convincing. He must’ve realized this, as his face grew red and his shoulders dropped, his lips drawing into a childish pout.

“Maybe it runs in the family,” Aoyama said. “Yayoi’s pretty tiny, too.”

“Well, it was good to see you, Aoyama,” you said, sensing that the conversation might take a turn for the worse very soon. “We should probably get back to our families, so…”

“No problem! See you next year?” he said.

You had forgotten that Aoyama, too, would be attending the same junior high as you and Yayoi, along with a handful of your other classmates. Nodding slightly and placing a hand on Tabito’s shoulder to steer him towards Yayoi, you waved at Aoyama.

“See you next year! Let’s go, Tabito,” you said.

There was a sullen quality to the stomp of his feet, but until Aoyama was out of earshot, he did not say anything to explain it. The moment the boy was gone, though, Tabito was whirling to face you, looking up at you plaintively.

“Do you think I’m small?” he demanded. It seemed his pride, which he guarded so fiercely, had been wounded by Aoyama’s comment. Even if you found it silly, it wasn’t unreasonable when you thought about it, so you did not make fun of him.

“Of course, right now you are,” you said. “It’s only natural. Eventually, you’ll grow, and then you won’t be.”

“I’ll be super tall when I’m an adult,” he said. “Taller than that guy.”

“Aoyama?” you said.

“Whatever his name is,” he said. “I’ll be taller than him, and — and — and better at soccer, too!”

“He doesn’t play soccer, so you’re already better than him at it,” you said. “Even if he did, though, I bet you wouldn’t have to try to beat him. You’re really good.”

He grunted. “Thanks.”

Though he tried to disguise it, it was obvious that he was pleased by the compliment. There was a spring to his step and a sparkle to his eyes as you rejoined your families, and you knew that you had once again succeeded in cheering him up, as you often took it upon yourself to do.

During your next summer term break, Yayoi insisted on going to the pool with you. She had heard that the next unit in your Physical Education class was going to be swimming, so even though you had not been assigned the practice as a requirement, she wanted to take advantage of your natural aptitude at the activity and get some time in so that she wasn’t behind.

“What’s your secret?” she nagged you as you, she, and Tabito walked towards your junior high school’s main building. Because of the swimming club, the pool was left open year-round, and even outside of practices, members of the student body were allowed to utilize the pool for their own reasons. Tabito wasn’t a student, but since he was with you and Yayoi, there was a high likelihood that nobody would even notice; besides, hardly anyone ever used the pool at this hour, so all in all there wouldn’t be any issues.

“Secret to what?” you said.

“Being so good at swimming! I can’t believe you didn’t join the club,” she said.

“It’s just something I like doing for fun. If I had to do it for the school club, I’d probably end up hating it,” you said. “Anyways, I don’t know. There’s no secret to it. I just get in the water and do what the teachers tell us to.”

Even in elementary school, you had been given rudimentary swim lessons as a part of your Physical Education class, but middle school would take those lessons to a far more brutal extent, at least according to Yayoi’s sources from the badminton club. You weren’t worried, but whatever information she had heard from her upperclassmen had terrified her enough that she was convinced you needed to spend every spare minute you had in the water.

“That’s what I do, but it looks so much easier when you do it,” she said, scanning her student card and motioning for you and Tabito to follow her through the open door.

“I don’t know. Things always look easier when you’re watching another person do them,” you said. “I’m sure it’s just as hard for me as it is for you.”

“Maybe,” she said.

“Do you like swimming, Tabito?” you said, taking off your shirt and pants, adjusting the straps of your bathing suit, which had twisted on the way to the pool. He had remained oddly quiet the entire time that you and Yayoi had been talking, which was out of character, considering he had been the one to insist on coming with you two.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I haven’t done it much before, so I don’t know.”

“Tabito’s afraid of the water,” Yayoi said. “He always cries when we go to the beach.”

“I don’t! Stop making things up, Yayoi,” he said. She snickered, already halfway down the stairs leading to the shallow end, the water licking around her thighs as she flopped backwards into the pool. As you had predicted, there was no one else there, so you had the entire area to yourselves, allowing you to be less focused in your efforts. Yayoi floated down the lane on her back, not even bothering to kick, her dark hair fanning out in a curtain around her waist, looking akin to a pair of unfurled wings fluttering in the wind.

“You so do,” she said. “I don’t know why you begged to come with us. I bet you won’t even go in the water, you chicken.”

“I am not a chicken!” he snapped, trailing after you like a shadow as you made your way over to the deep end.

“You definitely are,” Yayoi said. “Chicken, chicken!”

“Come on, Yayoi, that’s enough,” you said, stretching your arms and preparing to dive in. “It’s okay. He doesn’t have to swim if he doesn’t want to. There’s nothing wrong with being afraid of the water, especially not given that he’s still in primary school.”

Tabito puffed his cheeks out. “I’m not scared of the water. Only babies are, and I’m not a baby. I’m gonna swim just like you.”

“How about we do it together, then?” you bargained. Although Yayoi liked to tease Tabito, she would not lie or make things up solely to bully him, which meant that he really was frightened of the water. And if that was the case, then it’d be foolish of you to leave him alone, especially if he couldn’t even swim, the way she had been hinting he could not.

“That sounds good,” he said. You took his hand in between yours, interlocking your fingers with his tightly, so there was no chance that he’d accidentally let go, and then you leapt into the pool, pulling him after you. He let out a shriek at the suddenness, but then you hit the water and he was cut off by the cold temperature and the tangy, burning taste of chlorine.

A rush of bubbles surrounded you, the coruscating clear-blue obscuring your vision, but even before they could burst away into nothingness, you were pushing off the pool floor, dragging Tabito behind you until you reached the surface and he could gasp for breath.

His legs wrapped around your waist as your own churned the water, treading it to keep the both of you afloat, and his fingers clawed at your shoulders, digging them into your skin hard enough to bruise. When he tucked his cheek to your pulse, you noticed that his breaths were coming in harsh, short pants, his entire frame trembling against yours.

“Tabito,” you said gently. “You’ll have to let go so I can swim to the shallow end.”

“I can’t,” he said. “If I let go, I’ll drown.”

“If you don’t let go, we’ll both drown,” you said. “I’m not strong enough to keep treading water forever, and I don’t think Yayoi could save us both if it came to it.”

You weren’t worried yet, but it was true that at some point, you’d get tired, and then you’d be in trouble. Yet you also knew you had to be soft, for it seemed his fear was far more paralyzing than you had anticipated, and if he began to genuinely panic, then he might accidentally drown you both.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his face hidden in the hollow of your collarbone. “I am scared.”

“I know,” you said, using one hand to stroke along his bony spine, the other swishing back and forth to assist your efforts in staying above the surface. “But sometimes, you still have to do things, even when you’re afraid.”

“I can’t do it, though,” he sniffed. “I can’t at all.”

“Is everything okay?” Yayoi shouted from the shallow end.

“It’s fine!” you called back, knowing that Tabito might rather drown than let her know of this weakness. “Tabito, listen, I’m not going to let you go. Even if you let go of me, I won’t do the same. Do you trust me when I say that?”

“Yes,” he said immediately.

“Then prove it and leave me,” you said.

Slowly, almost painstakingly, he removed his arms from around you and drew his legs back. For the briefest moment, he was floating by himself, but before he could begin to flail around out of fear, you grabbed his arm, taking him along beside you as you swam to the shallow end where Yayoi was waiting.

As soon as he was able to stand, Tabito sprinted out of the pool, splashing up the stairs, shivering as he made a beeline for where his towel was waiting. You and Yayoi watched as he flopped into one of the chairs, curling up and draping the towel over his shoulders.

“Well, I guess he spent more time in the water than I expected,” Yayoi allowed. “That was a surprise.”

You exhaled, rolling your shoulders, which had tightened from the burden you had carried along the length of the pool. “He’s braver than you give him credit for.”

“Maybe around you,” Yayoi said. “I think he just wants to impress you, since you’re older and cooler.”

“It could be,” you said. “Though I doubt it. He’s known me for too long to think of me as worthy of impressing. It’s probably just because I’m nicer to him than you.”

“That’s just because you don’t see him every day. Trust me, if you did, you’d be even meaner than me. I’m told I’m quite patient,” she said. You flicked water at her.

“Our resident saint, Yayoi Karasu,” you said. She flicked water back at you with a mock-scowl.

“Oh, shut up,” she said, and then it was an all out war as the two of you endeavored to soak the other, forgetting about anything more important than the newfound game and the happiness it brought you.

When it finally came time for Tabito to graduate elementary school, there was a sort of melancholy in the air, though by all rights it should’ve been an exciting time. You had been asked to come to the ceremony by Yayoi, though she had confessed that it had been her brother who had actually wanted you there but was too shy to ask directly, and almost as soon as you sat down, you were aware of that feeling settled over all of the Karasus, even Tabito himself, though he was so far away on the stage.

Perhaps for their parents and grandmother, it was because their youngest was at this milestone. Never again would they have a child in elementary school; now, both of the siblings were older, nearer to adulthood than anything, but you doubted that that fact was congruent with the images they held of them as helpless infants. Even for you, it was peculiar to see Tabito standing on that stage when you still at times thought of him as that four year old boy who played with trains, so you assumed the effect was tenfold for his parents and grandmother, who had raised him since birth.

You weren’t so sure that it was the same for Yayoi, who had a different sort of glumness about her. She was sad for another reason, and as the principal droned on about the class’s achievements, you leaned over to whisper in her ear.

“What’s got you down?” you said.

“I’m not down,” she muttered. She would’ve fooled any other person, but you were not any other person, so you only elbowed her in the side.

“Yayoi,” you said under your breath in a sing-song voice. “Are you sad about Tabito graduating?”

“Why would I be sad about that?” she said.

“You tell me,” you said.

“It’s just hard to wrap my head around,” she said. “I always complain about him following me around and bothering me, but it’s just hitting me now that he probably won’t do that very much anymore. He’s going to go to a different middle school and make friends and want nothing to do with me.”

“I don’t think he’d do that,” you reassured her. “He’ll be less annoying about it, but he won’t just abandon you, at least not before you do the same to him. He’s bad at letting go of things unless you force him to.”

“I’d never abandon him,” she said.

“It’s not that you’d abandon him, but just think about it. In four years we’ll be headed to university, and he’ll still be in high school. Isn’t that kind of like you leaving him first?” you said.

“I don’t want to think about that,” she said after a minute.

“I get it,” you said. “It’s weird for me as well. Not him, but what if you and I don’t go to the same high school or university? What will I do without you?”

The changing of the seasons was what weighed on Yayoi, and consequently, on you. Tabito’s graduation was a reminder that the years did not stop for anyone, that you were all growing older with every passing day, and that one day things would not be so simple, the way they were right now. Of course, that day was far away, but then again, there had been a time when the day that Tabito left primary school, too, had been far away, and yet here you were, arriving upon it so soon.

The end of the ceremony was familiar to you, but this time you were on the opposite side, standing amongst the parents as they waited for their children to join them. You stood on your tiptoes, peering over Mr. Karasu’s shoulder in an attempt to spot Tabito when he came out. There wasn’t anyone else in his class who you knew; you had gone solely for him, and so it was only he who you searched for, counting the heads until he appeared.

He was one of the last ones to come out, talking to a few of his friends, though they all peeled off in different directions as they grew closer to you. Finally, by the time he reached the area where you, his parents, grandmother, and Yayoi were waiting, he was by himself, his hands shoved in his pockets as he braced himself for your reactions.

“Come here, Tabito,” his grandmother said, embracing him as tightly as she could given her frail body. “You’ve worked so hard, my grandson. You deserve everything good that’s bound to come your way.”

“Thank you, grandmother,” he said. There was this one thing about him — no matter how he acted around his peers, no one could ever say that he disrespected his elders, which was not always the case with those his age.

“How do you feel? You’re officially a middle schooler now!” Mr. Karasu said once his grandmother had let him go.

“Good,” he said. He was obviously squirmy and embarrassed at everyone’s attention being focused on him, so his mother only kissed him atop the head before releasing him to speak with you and Yayoi.

“Good going, Tabito,” Yayoi said, offering him her hand. He shook it firmly, much more at ease now that it was just the three of you. It was so typical as to be normal, despite the less-than-ordinary circumstances of the meeting, so it was impossible for any of you to be awkward.

“Thanks, Yayoi,” he said. She scoffed, making a big show of wiping her hand against her pants, which Tabito only rolled his eyes at.

“Whatever. Don’t forget that I’m going to a better junior high school than you, okay?” she said.

“It’s not my fault that your school’s soccer club sucks!” he said. “I’d have gone there if I could’ve.”

“More like you couldn’t get in,” she said. “Because you’re super stupid. I can’t believe you even managed to graduate in the first place. In fact, I only even congratulated you because I was so surprised by that fact.”

“Stupid? You’re the stupid one!” Tabito said.

“Nuh-uh, you didn’t even understand long division until Y/N explained it to you!” Yayoi said.

“That’s the only thing I was ever confused by, and I understood it as soon as she told me how to!” he said.

“Well, that just means Y/N’s a good teacher. It has nothing to do with how smart you are,” she said. You laughed.

“To be sure, I’m a good teacher, but that doesn’t mean he’s stupid. It’s his graduation, so we should be nice to him for today, don’t you think, Yayoi?” you said. She pouted.

“Just for today, I guess,” she said. “Fine. You’re not that stupid, Tabito.”

“You’re not that stupid, either,” he said. Coming from them, this was actually a stunning declaration of fraternal love, and you were taken aback that you had inspired it. However, upon further consideration, you supposed everyone was feeling sentimental by that point, so it wasn’t too hard to tease out.

“How far is your new school?” you asked him in an attempt to change the subject.

“Pretty far,” he said. “They have the best soccer club in the area, though, so it only makes sense for me to go there.”

“Are you going to have to try out?” you said.

“Of course. It’s not a guarantee I’ll get to play at all, especially in my first year, but just the fact that the chance is there is enough,” he said.

“That’s intense,” you said. You had stayed with the art club all throughout middle school, and though it was conducted with the same stringency as the sports clubs, there wasn’t as much of a competitive aspect to it. Anyone who wanted to join was allowed to, as long as they abided by the rules and regulations of the club, and such concepts as ‘trying-out’ were foreign to you outside of the stories Yayoi told you about her misadventures with badminton.

“It’s how it is in all sports clubs,” he said.

“True,” Yayoi said. “Remember my first year in the badminton club? It’ll be like that, only to a greater extent, since his school is known for soccer, so the club will be way more popular.”

“I don’t know how you guys do it. I could never; having to try out and possibly being denied the chance to do something I love would stress me out way too much,” you said. “But hey, Tabito, when you do get in — because I’m sure you will — invite us to your games so we can cheer you on, alright?”

“You’d really want to watch me?” he said.

“Why not?” you said. “I’m sure it’d be fun.”

“Eh,” Yayoi said. “Don’t be too sure. The games are kinda boring, to tell you the truth.”

“Nobody said you had to come!” Tabito said, crossing his arms and glaring at her.

“It’s not like I’d leave Y/N to suffer on her own just because she wants to be a supportive older-sister-figure. Obviously, I’d go,” she said.

“Aw, you’re the best, Yayoi,” you said.

“I try,” she said.

“Although, it’s kind of crazy that you’d go to support me but not him, when he’s the one actually related to you,” you pointed out.

“That’s because I like you more,” she said. “Not too crazy.”

“What happened to being nice to him on his graduation day?” you reminded her.

“Sorry,” she said automatically. “It had to be said, though.”

“Whatever,” Tabito said. “I don’t care if you’re there or not.”

“Wow, I see how it is,” she said.

“Just keep me posted,” you said. “As long as I’m not busy, I’ll go for sure.”

“I’ll tell you the moment I make the team. You’ll be the first person to know,” he said.

“Not even our parents?” Yayoi said.

“Obviously I wasn’t counting them!”

Either he was more talented than he let on, or more determined than the rest of his classmates, but regardless, mere months after the next school year began, you picked up a phone call that came from Yayoi’s phone but was made by another person entirely.

“Hello?” you said.

“Hello, Y/N? It’s Tabito. I’m using Yayoi’s phone to call you because I don’t have one of my own,” he said.

“Hi, Tabito. What’s up?” you said, holding the phone between your ear and shoulder as you filled out a worksheet for your science class.

“I made it onto the soccer team,” he said. The tone was casual, but there was energy brimming behind it, so you knew he was likely rocking back and forth on his heels in excitement.

“No way! As just a first year?” you said.

“Yeah, I’m the youngest member of the team. The others are all second and third years,” he said.

“That’s amazing! I knew you could do it,” you said.

“I was pretty nervous, but I just did the best I could at tryouts, and I guess they thought I fit in well with the team,” he said.

“Of course you do,” you said.

“So,” he said. “Our first game is in two weeks. On Saturday. Are you busy that day?”

“I don’t think so. I’m usually free on Saturdays, especially if I’m good about doing my homework on time,” you said.

“Will you come?” he said, spitting it out like it was something boiling and acidic on his tongue.

“To your game? Yeah, I already promised I would, didn’t I? Just send me the address and I’ll be there,” you said.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. “See you later. And seriously, you should be proud of yourself. Getting into the club at your age is awesome.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll have Yayoi send you the address so you can meet her there. Um, but only if you want to.”

“I do want to,” you assured him. “Promise. Bye, Tabito.”

The day of the game was brisk and windy, almost like winter but not quite as punishing — the kind of weather where you could still just as easily grow too hot as too cold. All of the trees lining the street were bursting with colors other than the typical viridian, their leaves glimmering in the afternoon sunlight like ruby-studded crowns of gold which cascaded through the air with every passing breeze. There was a hint of loneliness in the piles of browning foliage littering the sidewalk, which meant that, in short, it was Tabito’s favorite kind of day. You hoped that it was a good omen for his first game.

Yayoi was waiting for you by the bottom of the bleachers, playing with the frayed ends of the pale blue scarf wrapped around her neck. She was wearing a cable-knit sweater, a pair of jeans that were loose around her ankles, and once-white shoes which had long ago been ruined by purple ink and too much free time.

“Sorry I’m late,” you said. She glanced up at you and then smiled slightly in greeting.

“No worries, you’re not late at all. I just came early because I walked with Tabito and he had to be here in time to warm up,” she said.

“If you get here so early every time, then I can see why you get bored of watching his games,” you said.

“I guess maybe that’s on me,” she allowed. “Where do you want to sit? If we’re closer to the field, we can see better, but there’s a greater chance we’ll get hit by a stray ball.”

“How about three rows back? That should be enough of a buffer that we don’t get hurt, but we’ll be able to see everything that happens,” you said.

“Sounds like a plan,” she said.

The metal benches were icy when you first sat on them, and you pulled your cardigan tighter around you to ward away the chill which seeped through your entire body from the point of contact. Yayoi, who was nearly as observant as her brother, offered you her scarf when she noticed, but you shook your head in a silent rejection.

The two of you talked about random, mindless things while you waited for the game to begin — how your classes were going, the latest gossip at your school, which high schools you were planning to apply for, and other such topics. They were the same subjects you went over every time you hung out, and for a moment you forgot that you had another purpose for meeting beyond just enjoying one another’s company.

Then the referee blew the whistle, effectively cutting off your conversation and bringing the impending game back to your collective attention. The gathered spectators, who were mostly parents and other students that attended Tabito’s junior high school, broke into applause as the teams took the field for the kickoff. You did the same, though both you and Yayoi made sure to applaud extra hard when Tabito jogged up with the others.

“Do you know what position he plays?” you said.

“Back in elementary school, he was the striker, but I doubt they’d give that role to a first year,” she said. “He’ll have to work up to it, I’m sure. He’s probably in the midfield for now.”

“I don’t really know what that means,” you admittedly sheepishly.

“I guess you could think of midfielders as the in-between men? Before, he was on pure offense, so his job was to stay up and score whenever possible, and then of course there’s players who prefer to be on defense, which means they aim to stop the opposite team from making goals. Midfielders have to be fluid, though, since they’re responsible for the middle portion of the field — ah, hence the name. Depending on who has the ball, they have to either go on offense or stay back on defense, which means they need to be equally as skilled at both,” she said.

“But then why would they put an inexperienced player in such a spot?” you said.

“It’s a pretty forgiving position, surprisingly. If you mess up as a midfielder, you have a buffer of offensive and defensive players on either side of you, so it’s likely that someone will be able to recover for the error, but if you’re up on top at offense or near the goal on defense, then there’s no one beyond you, so mistakes are more costly,” she explained.

“I get it now,” you said. “Sorry if that was a dumb thing to be asking so many questions about.”

“Not at all,” she said. “It can be confusing, especially when you don’t know much about the game. You should ask Tabito to explain everything to you if you plan on becoming a soccer fan; he can go on and on about it. My knowledge is pretty surface level and also entirely dependent on whatever he’s told me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said.

“Ooh, look, they’re starting!” Yayoi said, pointing at the field, where indeed the game had exploded into action, players darting back and forth, shoving one another aside as they reached for the ball. As she had predicted, Tabito stayed towards the middle of the field, surveying the players fighting over the ball, and though he wasn’t anywhere near the thick of things, you found yourself far more interested in him than the others.

What did he see when he was on the field? It was something you’d never really get to understand. What was it like in the heat of a match, where every single movement was the difference between win or lose — in essence, between life or death? You wondered what kind of person he became when he played soccer, if it was the sort of experience that changed one’s character or if you were just ascribing fantastical aspects to it because you couldn’t live through it yourself.

The game went on at a breakneck speed, and frequently, by the time you asked Yayoi what was happening, the play had ended and a new strategy had already been implemented. It was difficult to keep up with but no less exciting for your lack of comprehension, and at least it was easy to keep track of the score, for the goals needed no explanation.

By the time that the second half was all but over, the score was tied. You thought about asking Yayoi what’d happen if it ended like that, but based on the way she was leaning forward in her seat and biting her nails, you doubted it was anything good.

Entirely by chance or perhaps by choice, the ball rolled to a stop at Tabito’s feet. For the entire game, he had been flitting around the action, never cutting in despite how he must’ve ached to, and now he was being given a chance to prove himself, a chance to change the course of the match entirely. Your heart pounded, though nowhere near as fiercely as his own must’ve, and somehow your hand sought out Yayoi’s, the racing pulse in your wrist crushing against hers, which was equally as quick.

In the moment that the side of Tabito’s foot brushed against the ball, there was a rebirth which occurred. He came alive in an instant, like a hawk which had finally swooped upon its prey, talons digging into a tender neck and rending through the soft flesh, wings spreading in an ominous shadow over the unassuming creature that he was bound to devour.

The other team did not stand a chance. He cut through them in a way that almost felt mocking, slamming his hands against their chests to push them away, keeping them at an arm’s length as he flew past, his eyes constantly scanning the area around him, trusting his feet to take care of the ball, which stayed by him with the loyalty of a hound. It was a terrible and yet beautiful thing to take in, the cruelty of his play-style; you could not reconcile it with the sweet boy you knew, yet neither could you tear your eyes away from that sly, vicious force as it darkened the field.

His goal was punctuated with the whistle of the game’s end. For a moment, he stood there alone, staring at the ball rolling out of the net, sending up sprays of turf when it bounced against the ground, and then he was tackled by his teammates, all of whom were shouting praises as they piled atop him.

“I can’t believe he scored the winning goal!” Yayoi said, tugging you to your feet. “Come on, let’s go congratulate him!”

“Are we allowed to?” you said.

“Mm, not if this was an actual game, but considering it was just a practice match between two middle schools, no one will care,” she said, vaulting over the short fence separating the field from the seating area and helping you do the same.

“If you say so,” you said.

All of the players were congregated by their coach, who was delivering an inspirational speech about their teamwork and how wonderful they were, so you and Yayoi hung back until they were dismissed. After that, you snuck up on Tabito, who was taking off his cleats, and Yayoi thumped him on the back.

“Boo!” she said. He squealed, and it was a high-pitched, girlish sound which had Yayoi cackling with laughter as she squished his cheeks together in one hand.

“Yayoi!” he said, though his voice was muffled, his mouth resembling a fish’s. “Let go of me!”

“I can’t bear to! My baby brother, the hero of the match,” Yayoi said. “It’s unbelievable. As exciting as if I was the one to score the winning goal.”

“Yeah, but you weren’t,” he said, using his shoulder to get her off of him so he could tie the laces of his sneakers.

“Wow, way to take away from my fun,” she said. “And here I was, trying to be proud of you.”

“Whatever,” he said. “What did you think, Y/N?”

Before you could answer, two of Tabito’s older teammates, one of whom was wearing a captain’s armband, appeared behind him. They were probably your age, towering over little Tabito, with handsome faces and the beginnings of sleek muscles swelling in their arms and legs.

“Hi,” the captain said to you. “You’re super pretty.”

You had never been approached so boldly, and certainly not by anyone so good-looking. Your cheeks warmed, and you fought back a smile.

“Hi,” you said. “Thanks. You played really well.”

You couldn’t quite remember how he had played, actually, for you had spent most of the game looking at Tabito, but you assumed it wouldn’t hurt for you to compliment him back, and mentioning the game was a safe enough way to do so. He seemed to appreciate it, laughing loudly, though you hadn’t said anything particularly funny.

“I’m glad you thought so!” he said. “We tried out a new strategy, and we weren’t sure it’d work, but thanks to Tabito here, it ended up for the best.”

“That’s great,” you said, directing your words to both of them, though the other teammate, who seemed to be less outgoing than his captain, was too busy staring at Yayoi to notice.

“How d’you know this shrimp, anyways?” the captain said, throwing an arm around the disgruntled Tabito’s shoulders. Tabito’s expression, which had already soured with the captain’s arrival, only warped more at the friendly display, his lip curling like he had tasted spoiled milk.

“He’s my little brother, and she’s my best friend,” Yayoi offered, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“We came to support him at his first game!” you said. “He’s been super excited about getting the chance to play, so there was no way we couldn’t come.”

“As far as first years go, he’s definitely one of the best. I’m confident he’ll be taking my spot once he’s old enough for it,” the captain said. “I can’t name a single kid his age who’s as talented or hardworking.”

“He gets it from his older sister,” Yayoi joked. The captain grinned at her.

“I’m sure he does,” he said. “Look, I’m going to be plain with you: my friend and I were wondering if we could get your numbers and maybe—”

“We have to go now,” Tabito said, cutting off the captain, who gave him a surprised look. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he crossed his arms at you and Yayoi. “My mom will get mad at us if we’re late.”

“No, she won’t,” Yayoi said, furrowing her brow. “Since when has she cared about how late we are getting home?”

“Yes, she will!” he insisted. “She told me before we left that we have to be back before sunset or else we’ll be in big trouble.”

The captain raised his hands in the air. “No worries. Come to another game and we can catch up then, alright? There’s no point in risking getting in trouble.”

“Sure, that sounds cool,” you said.

“Nice meeting you,” he said.

“Yeah, nice meeting you,” the other teammate echoed, speaking for the first time, his face immediately turning bright red when Yayoi glanced at him.

“See you around,” she said. You thought that you heard the boy squeak, but you couldn’t quite tell. “Alright, Tabito, let’s go, then. Since apparently we’ll be in such big trouble if we’re not on time. Whatever that means.”

She didn’t roll her eyes, but it was implied in the rise and fall of her voice. Tabito ignored her, trotting off towards the exit, forcing you both to follow after him without further delay.

Once you were all on the road towards the Karasu household, Yayoi pulled out her phone, holding it out to her younger brother threateningly.

“I’m going to call mom, and if it turns out you were lying, I’m — I’m — I’m going to be really upset! You made us miss out on a chance to get dates, so if you were just making stuff up, then I’ll kill you for sure!” she said, speeding ahead of you so she could talk uninterrupted. Tabito shifted closer to you, a small frown on his face, not bothering to respond to Yayoi’s threat. You waited for him to say something; he confided in you often, expressing things to you which he dared not discuss with his sister, and you did not doubt that he would take advantage of the moment of solitude to speak his mind to you.

“You didn’t tell me,” he said after a moment of walking at your side.

“Tell you what?” you said.

“What you thought,” he said. “You told the captain he played well, but what about me?”

“I assumed it would be a given,” you said. “Of course, naturally I thought you were wonderful, Tabito. You were the best player out there.”

“Better than the captain?” he said. You beckoned him closer, cupping your hands around his ear.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you whispered. He nodded eagerly. “I don’t really know how the captain played. I just said that he was good to be nice to him, as he was nice to me, but the truth is that even when you didn’t have the ball, I couldn’t help but watch you the entire time.”

“Really?” he said.

“Really,” you said, nodding at him quite seriously. “I came to support you, didn’t I? Why would I bother with the other players?”

Any traces of his earlier vexation vanished in an instant. As you had suspected, he had been upset that you and Yayoi had ignored him in favor of the charming older players when he had been the one to invite you in the first place. Thankfully, he was easy to read and easier to placate, and anyways he never held grudges for very long, so he quickly cheered as if he had never been angry at all.

“Y/N, can I ask you one more thing before Yayoi comes back?” he said, looking over at his sister, who was speaking quite furiously to who you could only imagine was their mother.

“You can always ask me anything,” you said. “Go ahead.”

“Your phone number,” he said.

“What about it?” you said, puzzled. He avoided your eyes, kicking apart a pile of leaves and gazing at them as they plumed into the air.

“I want it,” he said. You gave him an amused look.

“You don’t even have a phone, Tabito. What would you do with my number?” you said.

“I’ll remember it,” he said, picking up a leaf and tearing it apart into many small pieces.

“Is that so?” you said. It was a ridiculous request, and you doubted he’d be able to follow through on that kind of promise, but you figured there was no harm in telling him. So you listed off the digits of your phone number, slowly and carefully, as he nodded along and told you he really would never forget them.

“Tabito!” Yayoi shrieked, sprinting towards you two at full pace. Tabito yelped and hid behind you as his sister, who was hardly ever so intimidating, came closer and closer, her countenance dark and a malevolent aura rolling off of her in waves. “Explain yourself, punk! Why’d mom tell me she said nothing like the crap you were spouting earlier? What’s the big idea, huh?”

“Oh, it’s alright, Yayoi,” you said. “I’m sure it was weird for him to watch his own teammates flirting with his older sister and her friend. That has to be some kind of murky territory or something. What if it didn’t work out and then they bullied him because of that? I don’t blame him for trying to get out of the situation.”

She huffed. “You’re lucky Y/N’s here. One day she won’t be there to defend you, and then you’ll really be sorry!”

Tabito stood on his tiptoes to peek over your shoulder and stuck his tongue out at her. Scowling, she returned the gesture in kind, blowing a raspberry at him before grabbing your hand and yanking you away with her.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s leave this loser to walk by himself.”

You chuckled and freed your hand from her grasp, which was a Herculean feat given that she had a grip made of iron, and then you looped your arm through her own.

“Alright, Yayoi,” you said. “Let’s do that.”

Later that night, as you wrapped up the last of your homework for the weekend, your cell phone lit up with an incoming call. Setting down your pencil, you picked up the phone and saw it was from the Karasus’ home phone — which was odd, because ever since Yayoi had gotten a cellphone of her own, she had called you from that, so it had been quite some time since you had seen that particular contact pop up.

“Hi, Yayoi,” you said. “Did your phone die or something?”

There was a pause. Then: “This isn’t Yayoi. It’s Tabito. I told you I’d remember your number.”

“Tabito?” you said. “Well, good job with that.”

“I wrote it down as soon as I got home,” he said. “Once I get my own phone, I’ll make you my first contact.”

“Me? Not your parents or Yayoi? Or one of your other friends from school?” you said, snickering. “Why is that?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But I want it to be you.”

“I appreciate it,” you said. Maybe in some way, your friendship with Yayoi had transferred to him; after all, you had been the first number she inputted once she got a new phone, and you were also the first person she gave her personal number to, so maybe that kind of tradition had stayed with him and, in a typical sibling manner, became something he wanted to replicate. “You do that, then. And you can text me directly when you have games so I can come to them.”

“Actually, I also wanted to tell you that you don’t have to watch any more games where I’m not doing anything. When I’m in high school and I’m the captain of a really good team, then you can come,” he said.

“I don’t mind if you’re not doing much. The game today was fun. I got to hang out with Yayoi and meet your teammates,” you said.

“I don’t want you there anymore, so don’t come!” he said.

“Goodness. I won’t, then,” you said. “But that means you really have to work hard, because even if you invite me, I’ll only attend if you’re the captain of the team.”

“Good,” he said. “I’ll be a way better captain than the one I have right now.”

“Sure,” you said.

“Okay,” he said. “Bye, Y/N.”

“Bye,” you said, hanging up, finding a great humor in his competitive mindset, which even reared its head against his own captain, who he was meant to respect above all else.

Somehow, by chance or by fate, both you and Yayoi had the same top high school, and furthermore, you both received offers of admission despite how selective it was. The only other person from your middle school who was accepted was Aoyama, which you only knew because he told you one day during art club.

Both his artistic skills and his appearance had improved markedly since the two of you had first met; though he had never managed to master calligraphy or watercolor painting, he had discovered a talent for making scenes come alive with the use of a simple pencil. It was admirable, that with solely shades of gray he was able elicit images of color, and as he had grown older, he had also mellowed into someone you did not mind speaking to, so when you discovered that he was going to high school with you and Yayoi, you were surprised to find that you were actually a little happy about that fact.

Despite his obvious aptitude for sports — he was tall and sturdily built, with long limbs and a wide torso — he had denied every athletic club which attempted to recruit him, staying loyal to the art club despite how hard he had to work at keeping up with the rest of you. And because you and he had been in the same club for years upon years and the same school for longer, you supposed that it was inevitable for some kind of relationship to blossom between the two of you, which was why it was all but a foregone conclusion when he asked you out, the winter of your first year of high school.

It wasn’t the most romantic proposal. In fact, it was rushed and harried and fumbling, altogether messy and unplanned, but endearing in a way. You had been walking home from an art club meeting when you passed by the park where he had had a birthday party, so many years ago, and then he was pulling you over to the slides and sitting you down at the foot of one. You were motionless as he paced back and forth, trying to muster up the courage and the words to say to you, and then finally he just spat it out, all in a jumble. Will you go out with me?

You saw no reason to say no, so you said yes. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, and his lips were cold like the weather, but you did not complain, because he could not help it. And then he sprinted off and left you sitting there, at the edge of the red plastic slide in that desolate playground, the wind pushing the empty swings the way you had once pushed Tabito.

Aoyama was a fine boyfriend, or at least you thought he was; you had no experience with any others, so of course you could not say for certain, but in your opinion, he did as well of a job as he could be expected to. He held your hand when you walked together and took you on dates and kissed you in private — never in public, though, because you hated the idea, even if he would’ve liked to very much.

“I don’t get what your problem is,” you said, pressing a button on your controller to send a red shell flying. It connected with Yayoi’s character, and your own avatar, Princess Daisy, pumped her fist in celebration as you shot past the dismayed Rosalina.

“Don’t have one,” she said, shaking her remote in a futile effort to reawaken Rosalina. The character remained stunned for a second more before rejoining the race.

“Every time I bring up Aoyama, you stop talking and get all standoffish,” you said. “You obviously do have a problem. Is it because I keep talking about my boyfriend? I’m sorry if I’ve been doing that. I don’t want to be one of those people.”

“You don’t talk about him a ton,” she said, using a power up to speed through a shortcut, ramming your character out of the way to snag first place at the last minute.

“Okay, but something about him annoys you. What is it? I can’t fix a problem if I don’t even know it exists,” you said.

There was a set of thudding footsteps, and then Tabito, freshly showered from a game, peeked his head into the living room, batting his eyelashes at you in an attempt to seem sweet and innocent.

“Are you guys playing Mario Kart?” he said.

“What’s it to you?” Yayoi said.

“I want to, too,” he said. “Can I?”

“We were kind of talking about something,” you said. You weren’t sure if Yayoi would discuss the subject in front of her little brother, but it had been bothering you for long enough that you wanted to get things out in the open once and for all.

“It’s fine,” Yayoi said. “You can play with us. Just don’t be a pain.”

This was an absolute role reversal, and Tabito must’ve picked up on that, but he did not mention it, only plodding over to the TV and connecting his own set of controllers before settling on the floor in front of you, leaning back on your legs instead of attempting to squish between his sister and the armrest of the small couch.

“Are you seriously going to be Waluigi again?” you asked him with some disdain, wrinkling your nose as he selected his typical character.

“He’s my favorite,” he said.

“Gross,” you said. “But back to the original topic, Yayoi, don’t think you’re getting out of things just because Tabito’s here. You still have to explain what’s up.”

“Did something happen?” Tabito said as you selected a cup at random and the first race began.

“No,” Yayoi said.

“Yes,” you said, at exactly the same time.

“…Okay, then,” Tabito said.

“It’s about Aoyama,” Yayoi said. “Her boyfriend.”

“Oh,” he said.

“It feels like Yayoi has some issues with him, but she won’t tell me what those issues are, exactly,” you said.

“Is he a bad boyfriend?” Tabito said.

“I don’t think so,” you said. “No, he’s perfectly alright.”

“Look, I don’t have anything against Aoyama. I liked him, all of the way back in first grade, so obviously I don’t have a problem with him,” she said.

“Is that it?” you said. “I didn’t even realize you had a crush on him at all.”

“No, why would I care about a crush from when I was so young? To be honest, I just don’t think he deserves you,” she said.

“Why not?” you said.

“That’s my duty as your best friend,” she said. “To me, you’re the most amazing person ever, so how could someone like Aoyama ever be worthy of dating you? Besides, it doesn’t seem like you like him very much.”

“What are you talking about? Obviously, I like him, or I wouldn’t be going out with him,” you said.

“You should break up with him if you don’t like him,” Tabito suggested.

“I do like him, and I’m not breaking up with him,” you said. “Yayoi, why would you say something like that?”

“Dunno,” she said. “Forget about it. Maybe I was just seeing things. If you say that you like him, then you definitely do.”

“Right,” you said.

“What’s so great about him, anyways?” Tabito said, shifting so that he could be more comfortable. “For you to want to date him. Why do you like him? Does he even do anything of note?”

You snorted. “Not everyone’s a soccer ace like you, Tabito. Aoyama could’ve been an athlete, but he’s stayed in the art club with me since elementary school. That’s a long time; it would’ve been impossible for me not to grow fond of him over the years, and by the time he worked up the nerve to ask me out officially, I suppose I was fond enough to say yes.”

“That’s stupid,” Tabito said. For emphasis, he released a blue shell, which hit you right before you crossed the finish line. “Anyone could join the art club, and you’ve known other people longer than you’ve known him. That’s not enough of a reason to date somebody.”

“Rude,” you said, kneeing him in the head playfully, for you had come in fourth due to his intervention. “You know, you don’t really need a reason to date someone. You can date them just because. Maybe it’s true that hanging out with you two is more fun than being with Aoyama, but isn’t it normal to get along better with your friends? And especially when the relationship is so fresh. We’re still getting to know one another right now.”

“That’s fair,” Yayoi said. “Don’t expect me to be outright hospitable with him or anything, but for your sake, I’ll be polite. As long as he knows that I’ll make sure he regrets hurting you, if ever he does.”

“I’ll pass the message along,” you said.

“And you have to like me — us more,” Tabito added. “You’ve known us longer, so you have to like us better.”

“I’ll always like you better,” you said, reaching down to pinch his cheek. Already, his face was losing that round quality from his youth; you expected it’d be entirely gone soon, and you mourned the imminent loss of his doll-like appearance, vowing to adore it for as long as it remained.

Surprisingly, he did not slap your hand away. He only hummed in pleased agreement, and that was that. The conversation was finished, and it was the last any of you spoke about the matter for quite some time.

High school flew by faster than you had anticipated, certainly far faster than middle school had, though they were the exact same length. You divided your time between your club activities, studying for exams, hanging out with Yayoi as well as your other friends, and going on dates with Aoyama, so you hardly had a moment in which you could be bored. You almost missed the feeling of lethargy and inertia you had at least experienced once or twice in junior high, but yet you could not bear to give any of those aspects of your life up, so you managed the demanding schedule as best as you could and somehow made it work.

As he had attended a different middle school than you and Yayoi, so, too, did Tabito attend a separate high school. He chose it because their soccer club was well-known, but when he was in his first year, he was scouted to join the youth team of the prestigious J1 League football club Bambi Osaka, so it ended up mattering little. When he had reached such a point, why would he concern himself with school soccer clubs? There was no higher peak that he could reach with them than the one he already had achieved, especially not at his age.

It was rare for someone so young to consistently give such excellent performances. After all, he had been chosen as a starter for his junior high team as only a first year, albeit as a midfielder instead of his preferred position as a striker, and now, at the beginning of his high school career, he had already been selected to play for Bambi Osaka. Even Yayoi had to admit that her little brother had something to him — she claimed it to be an intrinsic talent, for that meant she had a chance at inheriting it as well, but Tabito was far more modest than she and always countered these declarations, arguing that it was nothing more than constant practice.

“Don’t tell anyone this, but I’m not that good,” he told you one day, when you were watching one of Yayoi’s badminton matches together. You were sitting on his black camping chair; he had offered to you and sat on the ground instead of making you do so, though you had never complained about it.

“There’s no way you’re not,” you said. “Ask anyone, and they’ll agree with me.”

“It’s true,” he said, shrugging like it was a fact he had accepted long ago and which consequently did not bother him anymore. “Some people are handed everything, but I’m not like that. I’m not a prodigy in any sense of the word. It’s easy to seem talented when you only pick on a person’s weak spots.”

You rested your hand on his shoulder. He was taller now, and growing more by the day, so you no longer had to lean down very far to do so, though he was on the ground and you were not. Exhaling through his nose, he bent his neck so his cheek could rest on your fingers, which were perpetually cold and must’ve felt nice in the summery heat of the midafternoon.

“If you seem like you’re talented, then you really must be,” you said. “I don’t think faking things like that is as simple as you believe it to be.”

“It’s simpler than you think,” he said. “Anyways, please don’t bring it up again. I just wanted one person to know the truth of who I am.”

“And it had to be me?” you said. You couldn’t see him smile, but you felt his cheeks grow fuller as his mouth curved into the wry smirk he donned more often than not nowadays.

“Of course, it had to be you,” he affirmed. “Who else would it be?”

Who, indeed? In some ways, you were as close with her little brother as you were with Yayoi herself, though it was a different kind of relationship there. As an only child, you supposed that all-consuming affection must’ve been what one felt for a younger sibling, so you put it down to that. After all, you had known Tabito for long enough that he could probably be considered your brother as well as Yayoi’s, so what else would it be? And the way he treated you was how he would’ve treated Yayoi if she were gentler with him, so although it was definitely preferential, you never saw anything wrong with it nor felt any need to correct his loving behavior.

The end of entrance exams, which was the culmination of the many months of hellish work that you had all put in, came with bittersweet news. For the first time, you, Yayoi, and Aoyama would split ways, each of you accepted to different universities. Those two, whose steady presences at your side you took all but for granted, had paths which diverged from yours, and you wondered if ever they would converge again.

Your path took you to Tokyo, to the exact university that your parents had met at. They wept when they found out, for though they loved where they were now, their hearts still beat for the bustling city where they had spent so much of their lives.

Your only consolation was that Yayoi, too, was going to the capital city. She would attend a different school, and thus would live in a different part of the megalopolis than you would, so the distance between you would not be small, exactly, but at least it was manageable. At least your paths would not be so separate. The same could not be said for Aoyama, who was going to Kyoto for university. You would be hours apart, and as the date of your graduation grew ever nearer, this took a toll on your relationship.

The ceremony itself was beautiful, exactly the kind of celebration that was shown in movies. The choir sang your school’s anthem and the president of the school board personally handed you each your diplomas; everyone was dressed in their best clothes, and the click-clack of heels against wood echoed around the hall as students and parents alike bustled about, congratulating one another and wiping away tears at another milestone crossed.

As always, as ever, your parents were sitting with the Karasus. You knew because you sought them out when it was your turn to receive your diploma. At first, they were impossible to find in the crowd, but then, like a miracle, you saw Tabito in the back, towards the left entrance, his pensive expression vanishing the moment he realized you were looking at him. Just as he had when you had graduated elementary school, he grinned at you, and then he waved, but unlike back then, he wasn’t at all shy about it. Also unlike then, you beamed at him with no care for propriety, cameras flashing in your eyes as you clutched your diploma in front of you with one hand and used the other to wave enthusiastically back.

“What a sweet photo,” your father said when all of you rendezvoused after the official ceremony, showing you his phone. The picture was of you on stage, your face radiant with delight, your arm raised mid-wave, the gold lettering on your diploma legible thanks to the power of the zoom on his camera. “You’re so beautiful, dear. I can’t believe you’re so grown up already.”

“She’ll always be our baby,” your mother said, not even attempting to disguise the tears wetting the shadows under her eyes.

“Can we get a picture with our two graduates?” Mrs. Karasu said.

“That’s a great idea,” your father said. “It’s so special that the two of you started school together, and now you’ve graduated side by side.”

“It only happens in the movies,” Mr. Karasu said, taking a pack of tissues out of his pocket and blowing his nose with a great honk. “And yet we have an example right here in front of us. Go on, girls, get together.”

You and Yayoi did not need to be told twice, pressing your shoulders together, so close that they rose and fell in tandem. You fancied that if one was to listen to your heartbeats at that moment, they would’ve been keeping the same rhythm, for you had lived more of your lives together than not, and so even your most basic systems were familiar with one another.

“How about one of Yayoi and Tabito?” Mr. Karasu said. “Let the L/Ns take a couple with Y/N, too.”

Your parents took turns posing with you and taking photos before your father flagged down a random classmate of yours, entreating the confused boy to take a picture of the three of you together. You could already envision exactly where they were going to hang that particular shot — in the living room, framed by something gaudy and likely near the vase of false, ever-blooming flowers your mother kept on one of the tables.

The Karasus were still taking family photos, for there were quite a few more of them than there were of you, so you decided to take the moment to look for Aoyama, who had been separated from you and Yayoi in the rush of people leaving the ceremony hall. It would be nice to take a picture or two with him, too, after all.

It was not hard to find him, not given how tall he was — in the crowd, there were few who were taller, and of those few, only the lanky Tabito was one you recognized. His mother greeted you exuberantly; she had always loved you, perhaps even more than her son did, and she immediately pushed the two of you together so that she could take a million photographs which she promised she would send to you at the earliest possible convenience.

“Do you ever think that this might be the last time we’re like this?” Aoyama said, his hand resting on your hip, a politician’s grin on his square face. You hummed in agreement.

“It is the last time we’ll be like this,” you said. “You’ll be off to Kyoto soon, and I’ll go to Tokyo sooner.”

“That’s true,” he said. “We should savor it, then. While we can.”

You knew what he was hinting at, but now was not the time to consider it. Now, you were meant to be happy, so you mirrored that smile of his and posed with him as if nothing was wrong, unsure of whether, in two weeks’ time, you’d be able to look at those particular photos at all.

At some point while you were you were with Aoyama, Tabito appeared, his arms crossed over his chest. He stood a respectful distance away from Aoyama’s mother, and it was only when you stepped away from your boyfriend and left him to his family that he hesitantly approached you.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi, yourself,” you said. “How’d you manage to find me? There’s so much going on.”

“You’re pretty hard to miss,” he said. You weren’t sure what he meant by that, but he didn’t bother with explaining himself. “You’re probably all photographed-out, but if you don’t mind…can we also take one? I don’t want you to forget that I came, too.”

“You only came for Yayoi,” you teased him. “It’ll hurt my feelings less if I don’t remember you were here at all.”

“I came for you, too!” he said earnestly, showing you both of his hands to prove he wasn’t crossing his fingers behind his back. “Really, I did.”

“So you would’ve come even if Yayoi wasn’t graduating, too?” you said.

“If you invited me, I would’ve,” he said. “I’d even skip soccer practice for it.”

“Wow, you hold me in higher regard than soccer practice? I feel like you’ve bestowed some great honor upon me,” you said. “That’s worthy of a picture, I’d say.”

You handed your phone to a nearby classmate of yours, a pretty girl who you had sat by in your Maths class. She understood quickly what you were asking of her, accepting the phone and waiting for you to get in position.

“Say, L/N, I thought you were dating Aoyama?” she said as Tabito wrapped an arm around your waist and you leaned against his side.

“I am?” you said, confused at why she had brought it up. She furrowed her brow, taking a couple of photos before giving you your phone back to ensure you approved of them.

“Who’s this, then?” she said, nodding towards Tabito. “He’s awfully cute.”

“Huh? Oh, he’s just Yayoi’s brother, it’s not like that!” you said. “But he is so cute, isn’t he? He reminds me of a baby version of Yayoi. It makes me nostalgic sometimes.”

“Yayoi…ah, Karasu! I had Modern Literature with her,” she said, snapping her fingers in recognition. “Wow. I didn’t realize she had a brother. Sorry for making a weird assumption about the two of you! I guess you’ve known one another for a while, so it makes sense that you’d be close.”

“Exactly,” you said, confused about how she had even arrived at such a conclusion in the first place when there was nothing between the two of you to hint at a relationship that was anything but platonic or familial. “Hey, thanks so much! These are awesome.”

“Anytime!” she said. “So, Karasu’s little brother. How old are you, exactly?”

“Um…” Tabito glanced over at you for help, creeping imperceptibly closer as if you were some last line of defense between him and the curious girl.

“He just finished his first year,” you said, taking pity on him and answering. The girl wrinkled her nose.

“So you’re barely a second year? Ah, that’s a bit young for me at the moment. Maybe in a little while, yeah? Call me once you’re in college and then we can talk,” she said, winking at him and fluttering her fingers in a wave before vanishing in the crowd.

You tried very hard not to laugh, but when you turned and saw Tabito’s bewildered expression, you could not help it. When he realized you were laughing at him, he turned a vermillion shade that only he was capable of becoming.

“I’m — I’m sorry she said that. I wouldn’t have agreed with her if I knew she was calling you cute in that way,” you gasped out. “Oh, my poor Tabito. I really didn’t expect that at all, or I would’ve asked Aoyama to stay and take our photos instead.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’d like it — um, I’d like it better if you thought of me as cute like that instead of like a baby.”

“But you are a baby,” you cooed.

“I am not!” he said. It was another rendition of the same argument you both had had in the past, and though calling this particular example an argument was certainly a stretch, you did not want to sully the night with even a joking disagreement. So instead of refuting his childish rebuttal, you embraced him tightly.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” you said. “You know I have no siblings of my own, but unlike most with that affliction, I am lucky enough to have met Yayoi, and through her gained a brother of my own.”

He shoved you off of him with a grumble. “I’m not your brother, either.”

“Alright,” you said, raising your hands in the air. “You’re not a baby, and you’re not my brother. Anything else?”

“No,” he said. “Let’s go back to our families. Your parents were looking for you. I think they all want to get dinner together.”

“Lead the way, then,” you said. “I call sitting next to you.”

He glanced at you shyly. “Okay. I don’t think you’ll have much competition there, though, so you don’t have to call it.”

“I just want to be certain. These are the final few weeks I’ll get to see you, aren’t they? I’ll miss you while I’m gone, so I have to stick to you like glue for as long as we have left,” you said, throwing a companionable arm around his shoulders for emphasis.

“Yes,” he said, bending his elbow so he could intertwine his fingers with yours, which dangled loosely by his collarbone. “Stick to me. Until the day you have to leave for good, stay by my side.”

The month in between graduation and the beginning of university was a whirlwind of receiving congratulations from random relatives, packing to move into your new apartment, and visiting your friends from high school, who you might not see for many months or perhaps ever again, now that you were all going in your separate directions.

More than anywhere else, you spent your hours at the Karasu residence. You never did anything particularly special, and neither did you bring up the ever-nearing date of yours and Yayoi’s departures; when the three of you were together — for Tabito insisted on accompanying you no matter how much Yayoi protested — you pretended like it was a normal break, like at the beginning of April you’d all once again return to your respective high schools and things would be exactly as they always had been.

You’d go to your favorite restaurants or run to ice cream shops late at night, laughing and teasing another as you licked at your cones and wandered around the streets. Sometimes you’d all go to the playground and pretend like you were children, sliding down slides that were only twice the length of your bodies and climbing across monkey bars with your feet brushing against the mulch. You’d sit on the swings and make Tabito push you as payback for the many times you had done so for him when he was younger, though he never viewed it as a punishment, and Yayoi would build castles in the sandpit, the grains digging into her skin and standing out in bright red patterns against her pale knees. Other days, if it was raining or any of you were particularly tired, you’d play video games, Tabito laying against your legs as he always did and Yayoi perched on the armrest like a gargoyle.

It was simple and wonderful and easy, but the same could not be said for your relationship with Aoyama. There was a tension between you both which had never been there before, and though he had claimed at graduation that he wanted to savor the last few weeks of your time together, you found yourself thinking more and more frequently that you wished you had ended things when you were still happy with one another.

You fought with him about random things, so irritable were you with one another. He accused you of spending all of your time with Yayoi, even though you’d be so close to her once the next year began, and ignoring him completely. You bit back with ten times the force, telling him plainly that you loved her first, and that even though you’d be nearer to her than him, the two of you would still be apart in a way you never had been, not since you both were six years old. And what of Tabito? What of the boy you had known since he was so young, that boy you had grown up alongside? You would leave him behind for good, and you could not bear the thought.

But in turn, this only angered him further. You like him, Aoyama accused you. You like him more than you like me. You weren’t sure how to respond to this. Of course you liked Tabito more than you liked Aoyama. You liked him more than you liked just about anybody, excepting his sister. Yet when Aoyama said it, it didn’t seem as innocuous as you knew it to be. It was the same thing that that girl from your math class had brought up, that there was something else between you and Tabito. You found it so distasteful that your words turned to poison.

You can’t say that, you’d snap, over and over, however fruitless it always was. He’s a kid. You can’t say that.

Aoyama would laugh bitterly, burying his face in his hands. Sometimes, he’d seem so tired and hollow and sick of it all that you’d regret it, regret whatever had happened between you two that had made you end up like this, but then he’d look up at you again and you’d know that this was the inevitable outcome.

It’s only two years. He’d remind you of that fact every time, and what could you say? It was the truth, and the same thing Tabito always insisted to your deaf ears. Two years or maybe less. 

It’s different, you’d huff when you could not think of anything else. Aoyama would sigh and then one of you would apologize: sometimes you, sometimes him. After that you’d kiss, and things would settle into a distorted version of your old comfort, but each time you ran through that fight or one that was similar, it became a little more difficult and your relationship fractured a little more.

There was no one great mistake. You couldn’t pick out a single moment when everything went wrong, when one of you committed a grave and unforgivable sin. It was just the accumulation of many small grievances, the stress of both of your impending moves as well as the knowledge that the end for you both was near, that blew up into an enormous fight, the kind of confrontation that was only frightening when it was finally over.

You both shouted about everything and yet nothing. The relationship, in its best days, had never had anything worth complaining about, and so it was difficult to find something to genuinely be upset over. He insisted you were cheating on him, or that, if you were not already, you soon would. You spat insults at him that you were not proud of, calling him controlling and cruel and stupid, even if he wasn’t really any of these things, and definitely not in the great quantity you insinuated he was.

I joined the art club for you. That was the last thing he said, when it was officially over and your fist was clenched around the doorknob. I could’ve been a national champion at any sport. Soccer or basketball or baseball or whatever. I could’ve been great, but I stayed in the goddamn art club because I wanted to be with you.

You glanced at him over your shoulder, stepping onto his doorstep, the rage leaving you in a minute, replaced by a deep sense of shame, but also, peculiarly, of freedom. Do you wish you had made a different choice now? Now that it’s come to this, I mean.

He laughed bitterly. Nah. Somehow, I can’t seem to regret it.

A lump formed in your throat, but bravely and surely, you swallowed it back. If you cried now, then you were afraid you’d never leave him. I see. Well, good luck in Kyoto.

Good luck with wherever your life takes you, he said. Tell Yayoi I said the same to her. 

I will, you promised.

Tell that brother of hers, too, he said. And tell him you love him while you’re at it.

There was no merit in responding to that final statement, which was as much an assertion of his perceived correctness as it was a heartfelt attempt at reconciliation. So you turned around, allowing your tears to fall when you heard the door shut behind you, the streetlights guiding your way home as you cried silently to yourself.

You never did see him again. It was probably for the best, anyways. A few days later, you were off to Tokyo, with an entire life ahead of you — a life that had no longer had a place for the dalliances of your past.

You and Yayoi, as well as your parents, took the train to Tokyo together. Tabito stayed at home with his grandmother, though he bemoaned the turn of events; he was about to start his second year of high school, though, so how could he justify tagging along? He did come to the station, however, pretending to be nonchalant and ever-so-cool, like he didn’t care one bit that you and Yayoi were leaving for good.

“I hope you’re not considering a career in the film industry, Tabito,” you said. The three of you were sitting on a bench together, yours and Yayoi’s suitcases at your feet, your parents waiting in line at the window to receive your tickets.

“Why not?” he said stiffly.

“You’re horrible at acting,” you said, your arms going around his firm bicep, your forehead pressing to the curve of his shoulder. “It’s okay for you to be sad.”

“I’m not sad,” he said, his voice a dull, trained monotone.

“I am,” you said. “We’re not going to be like this again for a while. Not ever, in one sense of the word. I think it’s natural to be sad about that.”

“Hmph,” Yayoi said, from Tabito’s other side. She was like her brother, but with marginally more of an aptitude at theatrics. Still, there was a curious sheen to her eyes, a dampness to the typically fiery irises. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” you said. “Things will be different no matter what. I don’t think it’s a bad development, but it’s a true one. We’ll — we’ll be apart, Yayoi, and we’ll have to take taxis to visit each other instead of being close enough to walk.”

“You’ll still be able to visit each other,” Tabito said, his face stoic but his voice trembling. “I won’t even get that. I’ll be hours away and all alone.”

“You have your friends and your soccer team,” you said.

“They’re not you,” he said. You weren’t sure if he meant it for the both of you or you alone. Selfishly, you wished for it to be the latter, though you could not say why and had no claim to him for it to be the case. “Nobody could ever be you.”

“If our mom got pregnant again, someone could be like us,” Yayoi offered with a wavering, half-hearted laugh. “You’ll have another sister then. Name her Ya-Y/N and it’ll be like we never left.”

“I’ll be older than her,” Tabito said. “She’ll be a crying, whiny baby.”

“Sounds like you’ll get along well, then,” Yayoi said. He scoffed and smacked her on the arm. She yelped in dismay and rubbed the sore spot, glaring at him all the while, which did inject some levity into the atmosphere.

Your spirits immediately plummeted once again when the train arrived with a rushing, roaring wind, coasting to a stop, the doors heaving open with a sigh. There was a looming emptiness in every car, mirroring the pit in your stomach and the jagged, frayed tears in your heart, which widened with every step you took towards the edge of the platform.

“See you around, bro,” Yayoi said, doing an elaborate handshake with Tabito. “Good luck with soccer. Call me if our parents are being annoying; I’ll talk to them. You can count on it.”

“Thanks, bro,” he said. “Stay safe in Tokyo. Maybe try to get a boyfriend or something, if you can manage it.”

“Shut up, you little twerp. I definitely can! I’m going to end up dating a model, just you wait and watch!” she said, punching him in the arm lightheartedly and then leaping onto the train without a backwards glance, leaving you and Tabito alone. Your parents were waiting inside with your luggage, and you knew Yayoi would probably be confused about why you hadn’t followed her, but for some reason, you found yourself hesitating.

“You’ll be able to get home from the station by yourself okay?” you fretted.

“Yes, of course,” he said, the corners of his mouth curving up in amusement. “Despite what you and Yayoi seem to believe, I’m not a baby, and besides, my house isn’t that far from here. It won’t be a long walk. I’ll be okay — I’ve had to do worse exercise in practice.”

“Okay, but just be careful,” you said, shifting from foot to foot uneasily, playing with your fingers. “You have people who can help you if something happens and we’re not there, right?”

“I do,” he said.

“And — and stay away from pools,” you instructed him firmly. “Because you suck at swimming and I won’t be there to look out for you anymore.”

“I would’ve done that even if you didn’t tell me to,” he said. “Quit nagging me, Y/N. It’s seriously annoying. Don’t you have to go? You’ll miss the train if you don’t hurry up.”

On cue, the train let out a warning whistle. You swallowed and then nodded, but you didn’t move. You didn’t want to leave him. That was what you realized in that very moment: it wasn’t your entire life that you cared about abandoning. There wasn’t anything much you’d miss about your hometown, and certainly nothing you’d miss more than him. Tabito, your Tabito — because he was yours in a way you were loath to share with even Yayoi, who was his actual sister, and you were suddenly so certain that it had always been so and you had just never discerned it.

“Go on,” he said after a second, nudging you towards the train. “Really, you’ll be in trouble soon.”

You thought that you should tell him, but there were not words enough to describe it, so you did not. You could not. You only forced a smile and then stepped onto the train, clutching the metal bar and facing the platform so that you could gaze at him one final time. The train whistled again, and then Tabito’s expression changed into something strict and determined as he raced forward, skidding to a stop on the painted yellow border right in front of you.

“Did something happen?” you said. He shook his head, motioning for you to come closer. Still holding onto the metal bar for balance, you brought your face to his, thinking he might want to whisper one final secret in your ear before he no longer could. Yet he did not; instead, he pressed his lips to your cheek, one of his hands holding the other carefully, so gentle despite the roughness of his calloused palms.

“Bye, Y/N,” he said. “Don’t forget me while you’re in Tokyo.”

The doors closed and the train shot off as you took a step back, too stunned to shout out a final farewell until it was too late and all you could do was watch as his waving form receded into the distance.

[tqmies]

REEL | Lee Jeno

Description. The annual camping trip that your friend group held every year was rapidly approaching. Jeno, dateless, enlists your help in catching him a date. If only it were that simple, but unfortunately, nothing is ever that simple.

Pairings. Lee Jeno x Female Reader (Slight Sungchan x Reader) 

Genre. Romance, Smut, Comedy

Warnings. Curses, Sexual jokes, Drinking, Unprotected Sex (Always wrap it before you tap it!) , Oral (F. and M. Receiving), Semi-public, Creampie.

Word count. 10K

Note: MINORS DNI! It makes me uncomfortable. Also this is my first time posting smut on this blog :) Please let me know how you all feel about it. PLEASE leave feedback I’m really nervous about this one hehe. Ok ok, enjoy!!

“IT’S ALL JUST A SOCIAL CONSTRUCT.” Were the first words that floated through the air.

“I agree, but the rest of us have already completed that right of passage.”

“Haechan goes through them like Pokemon cards.”

You walk into the scene, bewildered by what the boys are discussing. “Please don’t tell me you’re talking about virginity.” You gag.

“Pftt, virginity? Like Jeno can even get a girlfriend.” Jaemin responds, jabbing his finger towards the aforementioned boy. 

So that’s what this was about? This was always a popular topic of conversation with you guys. What could you say, he was an easy target.

Your friend, Lee Jeno, has had yet to have his first girlfriend. Now this isn’t a big deal, but seeing as he was friends with boys who have had at least nine girlfriends before, it definitely made him stand out. 

“Look I just don’t get why it’s a big deal.” Jeno reconciles. 

“You don’t get a lot of things. Like girlfriends.” Haechan says causing Mark to snicker. 

“Leave him alone.” You say, “Not everyone want’s to date half our town like you did.”

“Oh she got your ass!” Jaemin giggles.

“Shut up, you dated the other half.”

This throws Chenle into a fit of laughter, “You gonna let her talk to you like that? Personally if it was me-”

“Your girlfriend treats your dog better than you.” You warn. 

Chenle stops in his tracks as his jaw drops, he scoffs as he pretends to be hurt by your comment. 

“Damn, you’re out for blood today.” The group laughs again. 

“Oh no, she always gets like this when it comes to her little Jeno-weno.” Haechan teases, using a nickname that you hadn't called Jeno since you were kids.

You push him away as you scrunch your nose, “You guy’s are so annoying.”

“Yeah, yeah, you love us.” 

The boys delve into another conversation as you continue to think about the previous one.

I mean, you had wondered about it for a long time. Why didn’t Jeno have a girlfriend? He surely had the looks, not to mention how sweet the boy was. Though, you just chalked it up to him not being interested. He did just brush off every girl who tried to make advances. Maybe he wasn’t looking for anything.

You knew he pulled, he had his secret little hook-ups now and then, but he never was one to commit. The boys liked to deduce that it was the girls who just didn’t want to date Jeno, but you digress. 

Your attention is drawn back to the conversation when Jaemin mentions something about the camping trip that was approaching. It was a little trip you guys had planned every year, and for the past two it had been a success. Though, Jaemin being Jaemin, wanted to switch things up a bit.

“A couple’s camping trip?!” Mark had asked in disbelief. 

“Yeah think about it! Everyone comes in a pair, we share tents, and play games, and maybe even get some action.” Jaemin responds, wiggling his brows at the suggestive comment. 

“Gross, I’m not interested in hearing Haechan and his ‘girl of the week’ doing it in some tent.” You add on, because let’s be honest, his girls were rarely ever quiet. He was rarely ever quiet. 

“Why? You jealous? You know, all you have to do is ask.” He says, leaning closer to you as you put your palm to his face. Jeno looks at you two warily.

“In your dreams.” You state, removing your hand in disgust as he licks it. Punching him in the shoulder as you yell at how gross he is.

“She has a point though,” Renjun speaks up. “I’m not interested in having my tent next to Jaemin and that chick.”

“That chick has a name!” The aforementioned replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Not like we would know, you keep her locked up.” Chenle interjects.

“Rightfully so! She’d run for the hills if she knew you guys.”

“Yeah like you’re any better.”

This starts another little spurt of endless bickering as you roll your eyes.

“I just think it’s be weird, you know? To introduce like six new people to our group at once?” Mark comments, you and Renjun nodding your heads in agreement.

“Also it’s gonna be hard to find someone who’s down to go camping in the middle of the woods with a bunch of strangers.” You reason.

“Awe, scared you’re not going to find anyone?” Haechan smirks, the facial expression seeming to be permanently etched across his face.

“I’m more worried about Jeno over there.” You snicker, noticing the boy had been quiet.

“You too?” He groans, throwing his head back in defeat.

You just laugh, sure you’d always defend him. But you were definitely not above poking fun at Jeno every now and then.

After finishing your lunch and bidding the boys goodbye, you’re walking away when you hear your voice being called.

You turn to see Jeno following behind you as he makes it to your side. “Come to walk me to class?”

“Yes..” He starts. “and no.”

“Uh oh, what do you want?”

“Why do you assume I want something?”

“You always do,” You shrug. “That’s just how you are Lee.”

He frowns, “I need a favor.”

“No I won’t be your camp date.”

“Damn! Why not?” He pleads, he was so sure you’d agree. And he wasn’t too far off.

Sure, you’d love nothing more than to be cooped up in a tent with your hot friend, but that’d be crossing too many boundaries. So as nice as it sounded, you had to refuse.

“It’d be too weird.”

“How?”

“Cause we’re friends.”

“Geez, I’m not asking you to sleep with me. I’m just asking to share a tent and maybe like, I don’t know, sit by me? We sleep in the same room all the time.”

“And you just assume I don’t have someone I plan on bringing?” You ask, sporting a smirk.

“You do?”

Of course you don’t. Truth be told, you were so busy that you hadn’t dipped your foot in the dating waters for months. The only boys you ever even talked to were the ones in your friend group.

Though, you were nothing short of options. Surely you could pull some random boy along with you, just for the trip. One Instagram post and your direct messages would be flooded. 

“That’s for me to know, and for you to find out.” 

He just scoffs at your response before looking away, “What about Yoo Jimin?”

“What?”

“I should ask her to be my camp date.”

“There’s no way in hell! Yoo Jimin only goes for older guys. Like graduated guys.” You explain, opening the door to enter your classes building. 

“What? Really?”

“Yes, you’re telling me you really didn’t know that?” 

“No.. I mean, I just thought maybe she wasn’t interested in any guys here.”

“Geez Jeno, you really know nothing about girls.” 

“All you guys do is make fun of me! What about actually helping me?!” He explains, stomping his feet like a child. 

“Yeah, nothing could help you out there.” You sigh.

“Please help me! I’m begging!” 

“What?!” You raise a brow. 

“Help me get a date!”

“Why should I spend my precious time helping you?” You tease, knowing you didn't have much else to do. 

“Please?!” He begs, and you, with your horrible inability to resist, give in.

You tell him to meet you at his place after your last class of the day. Having no idea what was in store for you. And just like you said, you were at his place right on time.

Flopping onto his bed, you scroll through your phone as Jeno stares at you from his desk chair.

“What?” You say, placing your phone down as you raise a brow.

“I thought you were gonna help!” He whines, turning around in his swivel chair. 

“I am helping!” You defend. “I’m…I’m scoping Instagram for potential dates!”

“You’re a horrible liar.”

“Whatever,” You sign, turning your phone towards him.“Look, shes really pretty. She goes to our university too. Why don’t you try and message her.” 

Jeno looks very caught off guard, “That’s Yiren.” 

“Ok? She seems cool, she likes to travel, and she’s pretty!” You say, scrounging her profile intently.

“Looks aren’t everything.”

“Did you not hear everything I said before that?” You groan. “At least try.”

He nods, picking up his own phone and typing in her username. Going quiet for a couple minutes, he finally puts his phone down. “Okay, I messaged her.”

You squeal, “Now we wait!” 

He just smiles, “Wanna order some food?”

“I thought you’d never ask! I’ll pick a movie?” 

And so, after picking the scariest movie you could find, (And the heaviest blankets), you settle into the couch with your takeout box.

You two are engrossed in the film, when Jeno’s phone loudly dings.

Shuffling to sit up, you smile, “Is that her?”

The smile fades from your face as you read the message.

@_WangYerin: Ew...

You look dejectedly at Jeno.

“Yeah no, this is not gonna work.” He opens his mouth to speak again.

You interrupt him. “There’s plenty of fish in the sea. I’m sure we can find you one girl in time.”

-

“Jeno.”

“Yeah?”

“What the hell are you wearing?”

He looks down to his outfit, raising his brows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Jeno, I don’t even know where to begin..” You pause, your eyes drawing over his clothing.

He was donned head to toe in fishing gear. Loose cargo shorts and a floral printed shirt. Completed with the floppy hat and reel. He looked like a tourist.

This was truly ridiculous. He was standing in your living room, dressed like he was in some swamp marsh in Florida. (Even then, he’d still be overdressed.) 

“There’s plenty of fish in the sea.” He references, wiggling his brows at you. Gesturing to his outfit, “Chicks dig this right?”

“What?!” You exclaim, your face donned with confusion. Is that what he thought girls liked? It took everything in you not to burst out laughing.

“I’m starting to think..” He trails, “That’s not what you meant.”

“You’re hopeless.” You announce, resting your palm against your chin. 

How were you going to fix this? Not to mention that you only had about two weeks to do it. “Ignoring the poor choice of outfit, let’s talk about something else.”

He just nods as you scrounge your brain, “So as you know, you don’t have the best reputation preceding woman..”

“What do you mean? I love woman!” He proclaims, as if he couldn’t believe what you were getting at.

You sigh, “If only they loved you.”

He scoffs before rolling his sleeves up, “Look at these bad boys. The ladies can’t resist.”

You swear your eyes could roll of your head. “Be real Jeno, it takes more than some muscles to get a girlfriend.”

“Damn.” Is all he says as he pulls his sleeves down. Trying to ignore your judging eyes.

“I’m starting to think this is damn near impossible.” You speak.

“You’ve barely even helped yet!” 

“And I’m already failing!”

Looking around your apartment, you feel as if a light bulb went off in your head. “We’re not going to get anything done in here. We need to be outside, scouting you some girls!” 

And with that, you grab his wrist and drag him out through the front door. Pointing at the keys in his pocket, “You drive, its the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“Yeah okay,” He scoffs, “You’re just lazy.”

He unlocks his car and you pile in, relieved to be in the passengers seat for once. “I could get used to this.” You speak, reclining your seat.

“Oh I didn’t know they could go back that far.” He says, genuine amazement donning his face. You cringe at his words.

“Are you kidding?” You laugh. “Don’t let Haechan hear you say that.”

“He already knows I get no action. I’m sure he won’t be surprised.” He grumbles.

“Okay, here’s another tip.” You announce, sitting up. “You need to have more confidence.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I don’t.” 

“No I know, but girls love men who seem sure of themselves, you know? They don’t want someone who’s muddling around proclaiming they have no game.”

He takes you in your words but shakes his head, “I don’t know..”

“C’mon Jeno,” You say, turning to meet his eyes. “You’re young, you’re hot, you work out! And you’re super sweet. Not to mention you’re like crazy smart,” 

You continue on rambling as you fail to notice Jeno’s growing smirk. He was going to relish in every compliment that fell from your tongue. And surely tease you about it later.

You only stopped when you notice how quiet he got. 

“Hello? Earth to Jeno?” 

“I’m here,” He responds with a smile.

“You’re so annoying.” You roll your eyes.

“Where to?” He speaks, ignoring your comment. 

“The park! The one by campus. There’s always tons of people just hanging out there.” You proclaim. 

You always took note of the various groups that were there at all times of day. Studying or having a picnic, but you were sure you were going to run into at least one group of girls. And if they had any sense, they would eat Jeno up. 

As the sun starts to set on your day though, you realize they were definitely not eating Jeno up. In fact, every time Jeno approached a girl, they seemed to dodge it the other way. Half-assed excuses donning their lips, and that was if they were nice. Some of the girls just blatantly ignored him and continued on their way. 

Yet, Jeno didn’t let up. He didn’t even seem the slightest bit discouraged. 

Even as he got shot down by another girl. One claiming she ‘Wasn’t in the mood to get her heart broken.’ 

Though you digress, you knew that girl, she was in your Econ class. And if her on and off relationship with Choi Yeonjun was any indicator, she was just trying to save face. Or at least that’s what you told Jeno as you walked back to his car.

You knew what the girls thought about Jeno, likely that he was just trying to pick himself up a weekly girlfriend. They probably didn’t want anything to do with him. He had gained himself a reputation. 

Many girls pegged him to be a heart breaker, seeing as he rejected any girl who asked him out. But that was nothing personal, he just didn’t want to be a in relationship then. He didn’t mean anything by it, and he certainly didn’t want to hurt the girls. 

But not everyone is as understanding.

“Okay new plan,” You speak. “Neighboring university area!” 

“Huh?”

“Dude, everyone here like runs when they see you. Lets go somewhere where no one knows you!”

“Okay but if they don’t know me.. how will I get them to come camping with me?!”

He makes a valid point. 

You lean your head back into his seat and groan. Beating your brain, you decide to take a breather. “Lets go eat lunch, there we can converge a plan.”

“Why did you say that last part so weird?” He laughs. “Mad scientist vibes.”

“Shut up.” You retaliate, punching him in the arm. “Just for that, I get to pick where we eat.”

-

Shoving the roll into your mouth, you bask in the glorious taste. “This is so good.” 

“Slow down there, you might choke.”

“Okay mom.”

He laughs at your comment and stares at the menu, trying to get his order ready by the time the waiter comes by. 

“Jeno?” You hear, causing you to look up from the basket of bread you were admiring.

You’re met with a girl, probably around your age, smiling widely at Jeno.

“Sumin? Is that you?” He asks, returning a smile. 

You look between the two of them confusedly. You were sure she didn’t go to your university. How did Jeno know her? 

“Uh, This is Sumin. We met a couple years ago at camp.” He explains. Then going to introduce you to Sumin as his friend, to which you nod at, offering her a smile.

You suddenly reminded about when Jeno’s parents used to send him off to camp every summer back in high school. Rendering you to spend your summers full of Jaemin. You’re not sure why Jeno went anyways. Something about keeping him out of trouble. Though if there were girls as beautiful as Sumin there, you’re sure he got into more trouble. 

As you let them talk, you notice Sumin seems to be leaning into Jeno a lot. That’s like a surefire sign of attraction. 

Then a light bulb pops into your head. “Sumin, you two met at camp? You must like the outdoors and such then?” You interrupt.

“Oh yes!,” She smiles. “I loved sleeping under the stars, and kayaking! Oh, and the random games they used to make us play!” 

‘Well,” You start, looking at Jeno. Hoping he knew where you were going with this. “We’re actually going camping with a couple of friends soon.”

“Oh, really?” She says nodding.

You look to Jenos face, hoping to gauge a reaction. He doesn’t look uncomfortable or anything, so now was your chance.

“We actually are looking for a couple more people. You should join us!” 

The statement hangs in the air as she thinks, “Oh I don’t know, I can’t intrude!”

“No no, you wont be intruding! You can even share a tent with Jeno.” And you turn towards him, silently hoping he’d encourage her.

It seems he gets the hint. “Yeah, I don’t mind. It’ll be like old times.”

You smile. “Give her your number so she can ask about the details!”

Thank goodness you were here to help. He really did suck at this.

The two bid each other goodbye soon after, Sumin promising to text him later. You just grin widely at his success. “We found you a girl! And its only been a week!” 

He just stays quiet. “Hooray for us.” 

“Whats wrong?” You ask, finding his quietness odd. 

“I don’t know, Sumin’s nice.”

“But..?”

“No but’s, shes nice.” And with that the waiter arrives. Leaving that to be pushed to the back of your mind as you focus on what you’re going to order.

The plan was a success. That much was sure. Especially when you went and showed all your friends pictures of Sumin. You spilling how she looked more stunning in real life, and how Jeno would be bringing the prettiest girl to the event.

To which prompted Haechan to object, “Whatever, wait till you see my date.”

“Who are you bringing?” Mark perks up, genuinely curious. 

Haechan gestures towards you, throwing his arm over you shoulder. To which you aggressively shake off. “Nice try, find someone else.” 

“Why? It’s not like you have anyone to bring.” 

You stay quiet, smirking.

“You found someone?!” Haechan presses on. “Who is he?”

It’s a surprise, is what you say. 

They roll their eyes at you, not believing your words for one second, even as you press on that its true.

Though you know truthfully, you have yet to find anyone. You were so wrapped up in your determination to get Jeno a date that you had forgotten to get your own. In fact, today had been weird that you hadn't been with Jeno the whole day. You liked spending time with him. But now the focus was on you.

You had time though, so it’s not like you were worried.

Jeno doesn’t know why, but hes dying to know who you’re bringing. He’s also relieved to see that you’re not falling into Haechan’s advances. But whoever you’re bringing could be undoubtedly worse, so he tries not to get his hopes up.

“Oh also, Jaemin mentioned to me that we need to go shopping for supplies soon.” Mark states, looking down to put his fork back into the salad he was eating.

“I’m down, just let me know when.” You nod, shopping with the boys was always fun anyways. Even if it meant spending two and a half hours in a Bass Pro Shop.

“Yeah well make sure you ask your date if he has any particular request for food.” Renjun speaks, taking his attention off his food for a second. 

“I’ll do you one better, I’ll bring my date.”

Okay, maybe you shouldn't have said that. But what was with the boys and insinuating you didn’t have a date?

You were going to make them eat their words.

“Great, can’t wait to meet him.” Haechan smirks.

-

And just like you thought, it had come back to bite you.

Instead of having a week left, you now have to obtain a boy by this weekend. (And somehow drag him to a camping store with you.) 

So, out of defenses, you hesitantly asked your co-worker Sungchan.

You two were friends, having grown accustomed to long shifts together and defending each other from the occasional shitty costumer. Plus, you’d much rather take him then some random guy you caught on Tinder or Instagram.

“Camping? Is it like a weekend thing or?”

You nod, hoping he’ll agree.

“You want me to spend two of my precious days off, in the middle of the woods? With a bunch of strangers, bugs, and canned food?” 

Your shoulders deflate, pursing your mouth into a thin line. “Yes?”

“I’m down.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah, sounds like an adventure.” He shrugs. 

You clap excitedly, “My precious Sungchan, you also have to come to Bass Pro Shop with me.”

He groans, “Whatever, I already agreed.”

And he makes good on his promise, picking you up from your place and coming to the store. 

Jaemins the only one there at the designated time, saying something about the others being on the way. So you just make small talk as the rest gradually arrive. Jaemins quick to fall into conversation with the other, which is a good sign.

Jeno and Haechan arrive together, the latter making a commotion of your date.

“So this is the one?” Haechan says, not-so-subtly scanning over Sungchan’s body.

“Quit checking him out!” You whine. Noting how Haechan was trying to feel up on Sungchans arms. Looking like he was about to snatch him for himself.

You weren’t dumb, you know Sungchan’s good looking, he’s never been shy about saying it either. And you can tell the boys were astounded he even showed, not to mention how undeniably attractive he was.

But you don’t expect him to get along with everyone so well. Thirty minutes in and he was already on Mark and Jaemin’s good side. The two aren’t particularly difficult to please, but you were surprised to see that he had won over Renjun and Chenle.

The rest of the boys got along with him fine, minus Jeno.

He was acting really weird about the whole thing. The least friendly to Sungchan, and just overall had a short fuse with him. He had probably sensed something off about him, which you found to be weird.

So in the middle of the fishing rod aisle,(You guys didn’t even need one), You pulled him aside from the rest of the group. Wanting to get down to the root of the problem, because you weren't the only one who had noticed. Jisung had even remarked how Jeno seemed to be in a bad mood, but he was talking to everyone else just fine, so it seemed Sungchan was the problem.

“Is everything ok?” You ask, eyes full of worry. “You’ve been shooting Sungchan dirty looks the whole time.”

He stays quiet, pretending to be interested in some product on the aisle end cap. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Don’t act stupid Jeno.” You warn, “What’s wrong?”

“Just not a fan of him.” He shrugs, turning to walk back towards the group. 

You just shake it off, it wasn’t you problem. Jeno was your friend yes, but if he was going to act indifferent about this, then so be it. You had your own things to worry about. 

Going back to Sungchan’s side, you tap his shoulder. He was listening to Mark ramble on about a fishing line, you once again point out how you don’t need any type of fishing gear. Mark just ignores you and starts shoving reels in Renjun’s face, much to the latter’s displeasure. 

“Your friends are cool.” Sungchan speaks, “They seem to like me.”

“Told you they were fun!” You tease, glad he was making a good first impression. If things kept going good, maybe you could invite Sungchan around more often. He did always mention that he’d like more friends. 

Jeno’s face sours as he watches from afar. You leaning into Sungchan, had you always been so touchy? He shakes his head and turns away.

About thirty minutes later, you’re all ready to head to checkout. Thankful you had another set of arms to help carry the cooler and sleeping bags you were buying. 

Placing the stuff down, you laugh. “This much for two days?”

“Haechan’s sleeping bag caught on fire last time, remember?” Chenle comments. You do remember, it was not pretty. 

Sungchan looks confused and you explain, recalling that Haechan was laying too close to the fire long after everyone else had gone to bed. Remembering that it wasn’t just him in the sleeping bag as well.. 

Haechan stops you from recanting the whole thing, saying how he’d beat you up if you boyfriend wasn’t right there. You scoff at the accusation and Sungchan laughs. But everyone catches on to how you two don’t outright deny it.

You weren’t thinking too much, not even noticing how neither of you had said no. Sungchan was cool, and sure you had thought of him that way before, but he was definitely not your boyfriend right now. You didn’t shy away from the prospect though, and it seemed like he didn’t either. 

Jeno’s brows furrow, you two were a thing? He thought you guys were just friends, he turns away, not wanting to look at you two any longer. He didn’t know why, but he felt somewhat possessive of you. And he definitely did not like Sungchan. 

You all walk out of the store, proud of your successful trip when Renjun suggests you all go out to dinner. You nervously smile, “Sungchan and I were actually planning to watch a movie at my place.” 

“Nice,” Haechan smiles, “Let’s meet at yours then!” 

You groan, and the others just teasingly smile at you, knowing that was not what you had meant. “As long as someones buying snacks cause I don’t have shit.”

“On it!” Jaemin responds, already in his car. 

That’s how you find yourselves all back at your place, an improper movie night to commence after Jisung and Chenle stop fighting over what movie to watch.

Heading to the kitchen for some chips, you’re met with only Jeno in there. Digging through a bag of Jolly Ranchers for his favorite. 

“I ate all the cherry ones.” You say, poking at his shoulders, knowing he loved those as much as you did.

He smiles, not responding. Until he pulls out one, a cherry one. You perk up at that, you thought you had eaten all of them ages ago.

“Oh, for me? Thanks.” Sarcasm donning your voice, but still going to reach for it anyways.

He snatches it back, “Go ask Sungchan for one.” Jealousy seemingly apparent in his voice, confusing you.

“You suck.” You state bluntly, until he unwraps the candy and places it in front of your mouth. 

“Want it?” He asks, gesturing it more towards you, eyebrows raised.

You narrow your eyes, “..Yes.”

“Open wide then.” 

You scrunch your nose, he wanted to feed it to you? ‘No thanks.” Is all you say before walking away.

But then you feel a hand clasp around your wrist, turning you back. Jeno stares at you blankly, then repeating. “I said open.”

Curiously, you open your mouth slightly. Just enough to get the candy. Jeno brings the cherry flavored candy to your lips. He smirks, grabbing your chin, he holds you in place. “Wider,” He commands, and you follow. 

He slips the candy in, along with two of his fingers, and you close your lips around them. He stares at you, and you look down at the floor. You had never seen this side of Jeno before, the Jeno you knew always carefree and smiling, far different from the one in front of you. You were a bit scared but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit turned on.

With newly acquired confidence, you shove his fingers farther into your mouth. His eyes widen and you gag, the candy hitting the back of your throat. But you progress, slowly sliding your mouth off his fingers, releasing them with a pop.

Swirling the rest of the candy in your mouth, you smile. “Mm yummy.”

Though your hearts beating like crazy, shivering at the close proximity between you and Jeno. He walks forward, backing you into the counter. You two just stare at each other, and you swear he’s about to lean in. Until the sound of approaching footsteps is heard.

You and Jeno separate, you going back to your mission for chips and him to pour a glass of water. Trying to steady your nerves and not give away to the person what the two of you were doing.

Sungchan pokes his head into the area, “Hey we decided on a movie, I left you a spot next to me.”

You grin, “Okay, let’s go.”

Watching you leave the area with your hand around Sungchan’s bicep, Jeno wants to puke.

In fact, his urge to vomit only gets stronger as he continues to watch you cuddle up to the other boy all night. After the little display earlier, you still had the nerve to hang onto Sungchan? 

The movies a devastatingly long one, some of the boys filtering out before its even ended. Mark mutters something about how its getting late, wanting to leave before he passes out on your tiny love seat.

And just like that, only four of you remain. Jaemin’s strewn out on the floor, fast asleep, as is Sungchan on the arm of your sofa. You and Jeno are the only one’s still awake, though you’re unable to move as Sungchan constantly stirs in his sleep. 

The last thing you want to do is wake him, but his phone does just that. Vibrating in his pocket, he lazily opens his eyes. Seeing the time as well, he shoots up, “Shit, I have to go.” He says, eyes widening as he heads towards the front of your place, grabbing his jacket and searching for his shoes. 

He bids you goodbye and you make him promise to text you when he gets home safely, to which he agrees with a smile. “Have a good night.” He says, kissing your forehead before heading out the door. 

You grin at the kiss, watching as he makes his way out. 

Jaemin’s snoring knocks you out of your trance, closing the door behind you.

Jeno appears in the hall, “I can drag him home.” He suggests.

Shaking your head, you look over at him. He did seem rather comfortable on your floor. “He seems fine. I’ll get him a blanket.” 

Jeno nods and fishes for his keys on your counter. “It’s late, I’ll head out.”

“Jaemin’s staying, why don’t you just stay too?” You ask. It was a completely normal thing for the boys to stay over, they were all welcomed to any time. You know the others left just from desire to sleep comfortably in their own beds.

Jeno and Jaemin were no strangers to staying the night either, the three of you hung out often late into the night. You don’t know why Jeno was in a hurry to leave anyways, he would normally just agree to crash on your couch.

“I don’t know..” He trails. 

“Why not?” You sputter, confused as your patience for his attitude began to grow thin. “You’ve been acting weird all day! What’s got you all hot and bothered?!” 

“You really wanna know?” He asks, condescendingly. Like you should know what you did wrong. 

“Do I? Yes I would like to know what has had you being an asshole all day!”

He just laughs at that, only causing you to get more annoyed. Contemplating if to tell the truth or not, he watches you grow more impatient. 

“I just don’t like Sungchan.”

“Well no shit,” You throw your hands up. “You already told me!”

He shrugs in defeat, like it was no big deal he had been so rude to him.

“I just wanna know why!” You speak again.

“I could tell you.” He says, inching closer. “But I could show you a lot better.”

“What?” You’re cut off by Jeno pulling you into a kiss. Completely surprised by the turn of events, but you welcome it. His hands finding their way into your hair.

You pull away, “Jeno, what are we doing?” And you meant it. What was this sudden behavior? Would this ruin your friendship? Could you two be normal after this? Was he even going to go all the way?

“Tell me to stop.” He whispers indifferently. “Tell me you don’t want this.” 

“Jaemin’s in the living room.” You caution, scared to wake him, though you ignore Jenos statement. “But I want this.”

“Then we better take this to your room.” 

And the moment you nod in agreement, he pulls you away to your bedroom. You two stumbling as he attempts to kiss you on the way there. He closes the door behind you, pushing you against it as he meets your mouth again.

It’s messy and uncoordinated, his sheer desire for you taking over. Teeth clashing and tongues strewn. He pulls back from the kiss and begins fervently attacking your neck.

“Please Jeno,” You whine, aching for him to continue. “Need you.”

“To what?” He teases, lifting up from your neck.

You want to scream. Of course he was going to make you say it, this was Jeno you were talking to. And he truly wanted nothing more than to hear the words slip past your mouth.

“Touch me.” You beg, wishing he would cut it out with the teasing.

“Where?” He continues. Moving his hands down your body, “Here?”

You shake your head, “N-No.”

You grab his hand bravely and place it on the front of your pants. He begins rubbing you through your jeans, the fabric roughly brushing up against you.

“I wanna hear you say it.” He smiles, “That you want me to touch you. And not Sungchan.”

You roll your eyes, he was still on about this? Sungchan was the last thing on your mind right now, the first being your aching wetness and Jeno’s stubbornness to relieve it. 

“W-want,” You stutter as he begins to unzip your pants, “Want you to touch me.”

“Mhmm,” He nods. “Because you’re mine.”

You whimper at the contact of his hands rubbing you through your panties. Attempting to suppress a moan from falling past your lips. His possessiveness was such a turn on to you, and you didn’t even know why.

“So wet,” He comments, “Just from a little kissing. Are you sure I’m the one who’s never been in a relationship?”

Annoyed, you turn away blushing, “Shut up.”

Jeno just chuckles as you press against his shoulders, signaling for him to stop. “Wait, don’t wanna do it against the wall. Want to be on the bed.”

“So demanding.” 

And with that, he moves you to lay down on your bed. He beings kissing you again, tugging at the hem of your shirt and you raise your hands to let him remove it off you. Although you had taken note that Jeno was still fully clothed. 

“Not fair, you should take off your shirt.” You pout, and he rushes to take it off, revealing his chiseled body to you. You gawk at him in his shirtless glory, upset you hadn’t thought to see it sooner, well at least you were seeing it now.

“Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.” He teases again, going to kiss you before you can spout some smart remark.

He recedes back, lowering himself down to be met with your dripping cunt. He slides your panties down, slowly pulling them off your ankles with his teeth. You prop yourself up on your elbows to see, and you had to admit, its hot.

Jeno nibbles on your thigh, eliciting a yelp from you before he starts rubbing his thumb over your folds. “All for me.” He smirks proudly. 

Sticking his tongue out, he licks a thin stripe on your clit, you letting out a loud string of moans. “Jeno- Please.” 

He moves to stick a finger in, you clenching harshly around it. 

“So tight.” He hisses, adding another finger in. Causing you to wail out in pleasure. It felt so good, you hadn’t been touched in a while. 

He continues like this, whispering praises into your ear as he seems indifferent, “You’re doing so well, sucking my fingers into this pretty cunt.”

You’re feeling the coil in your stomach, embarrassingly close to cumming at the brutal pace of his fingers inside you, when he slips them out. 

“Want you to cum on my tongue.” He explains before you can even protest.

Nodding, you’re met with his mouth back on your clit, his tongue harshly lapping against you. You unconsciously reach for his hair, pulling strongly on it, causing him to let out a moan against your heat. 

“Pull harder.” He demands, and you oblige. One hand in his hair and the other gripping your sheets. Your hips start to lift off the bed in pleasure, as he holds you down by your legs, your shaking form struggling to stay still. 

“Jeno, Please, please I’m so close,” You plead as he continues to eat you out like a starved man. 

“Do it baby, cum for me.” He assures, and you moan at his words. The affect he had on you was insane. You had never been so shaken up over getting head before.  

You reach your climax shortly after, a wave of white washing over you as you let out a final string of moans. Jeno’s movements barely even faltering as you finish on his face. 

He pulls away, moving to stand up and goes to wash his face in your connected bathroom. You’re a bit put off by his sudden change in mood, but you calm your breathing and start searching for your bottoms on the floor, as well as your shirt.

Jeno emerges from the bathroom and you silently hand him his shirt, when you notice he’s sporting a complete boner. 

“You look like you could use some help.” You announce, smirking. 

He shakes his head though, “I can take care of this at home.”

Huh? What was he talking about? 

“Let me return the favor.” You state, “I’m eager to please.” 

But he remains the same, “It’s fine.”

And he walks past you, opening the door out of your room. Leaving you more than just a little confused. Was he regretting what happened? Why wouldn’t he accept your offer to touch him? What kind of guy turns down head? 

You avoid eye contact. “Oh.. Ok. Have a safe trip home.”

You want the earth to crack open and swallow you whole. He nods and makes his way past a sleeping Jaemin and out your front door. 

Not wanting to be alone, you sit on the other couch opposite of your friend. 

That’s when he sits up. “You two are so gross.”

“You were awake?” You ask, mouth agape. 

“You guys woke me! Maybe try and keep it down next time!” He scolds, until he notices the look on your face. “Is something wrong? Did you not want to do it?”

You wave your hands, “No! No, I did. It’s just that when I offered to do something for him, he rejected me. I don’t know- I feel gross.”

He shakes his head, “Jeno’s like that, he doesn’t know how to express his feelings, I’m sorry he made you feel that way.”

You just nod, “Please don’t tell anyone about this.” And he agrees, swearing to not say a word, and you couldn’t have been more grateful. 

-

You ignore Jeno for the next couple of days, purposefully. Whether it was to save yourself from embarrassment, or from your feelings? You didn’t know.

You wish you hadn’t acted so carelessly, to let yourself get carried away in his bliss, knowing you could never have him in the way you wanted.

You were also unsure of how Jeno would react to being around you after that. You didn’t even know if you would be confident in your actions around him. Would you be able to look him in the eye? Or even worse, what if he had told your friends? What if Jaemin had, despite his swearing to secrecy? 

Haechan would be a nightmare.

But you push those thoughts to the back of your mind as Sungchan calls for your attention. You two were at your place, packing for the trip. Water bottles and his awful trail mix bars being shoved in your backpacks.

You were leaving today, you breathe in. A weekend you were looking forward to how now left you unsure. But if worse came to worse, Sungchan would be there.

Over the past couple of days, you had done a lot of thinking. Not just about you and Jeno, but about the other boys as well. 

You realized that you and Sungchan were nothing beyond a clingy pair of friends, and that’s all you felt for him, a sense of friendship. Whatever uncertainty you had was gone. You knew he didn’t make you feel the way Jeno did. And it wasn’t just because of the interaction either.

You had feelings for Jeno, that was certain. 

You assume you’ve had them for a while too, it wasn’t until you sat down and acknowledged that you would consider a relationship with him, did you realize. 

But it was all too much, too fast. 

Engaging in those activities with him, knowing he likely only saw you as a friend? Too much to bear. So you knew you had to keep your distance from him as far as possible. You knew these feelings were likely to pass too, you just had to wait it out. 

Because if there was something else you realized, it was that he didn’t feel the same. And why would he? You weren’t anything like the girls he’s gone for. You weren’t anything like Sumin. Not to mention his reluctance to let you touch him, (which was the root of your embarrassment), after he had eaten you out. You understood he just wanted to have a little fun with you, nothing more. 

Plus, if his past record of no girlfriends meant anything, it was that he couldn’t be bothered to be tied down. So you weren’t going to begin to feed into the delusional idea that he could be your boyfriend, it would only just end up hurting you that much more.

Sungchan pulls you from your thoughts as he announces its time to leave, and you smile. He helps you pack your things into the car and you two shake with enthusiasm during the entire thirty minute ride. Though you’re not looking forward to hiking the rest of the way to the campsite; A necessary evil.

Sungchan doesn’t complain too much though, smiling as he reads off the printed map for directions. You didn’t get much service out here, and you weren’t going to take any chances getting lost. 

It didn’t help that you two were late, noting that all your friends had arrived by the time you reached the sites with your tents and backpacks in tow. 

You see Jaemin and his girl sitting on logs, whispering something into each others ear as they giggle. Her legs resting over his lap. 

To their right is Renjun and Chenle arguing over something random, with their respective dates behind them, both looking extremely confused.

Mark is setting up a tent with his date, Jisung and his date helping them hold the poles steadily. Mark stumbling as he trips over one of the mounts.

Haechan emerges from his tent upon the others announcing your arrival, saying something about his date being passed out in their tent. 

Jeno and Sumin are no where to be found, and you try not to ask about it. 

Though, Jaemin approaches you the minute Sungchan leaves your side. “They went exploring. Whatever that means.” He speaks, and you don’t even have to ask him who he’s talking about. 

You just nod and ask him for a drink. “You’ve been here for five minutes!” He recoils, like he can’t believe you asked him that. 

“Well its unfair of you to expect me to tolerate Haechan for an entire weekend without a drink.” You tease, the aforementioned male coming to whine.

Sungchan returns with two drinks in hand, you thanking him as he passes you one. He then places his hand on the small of your back, the boys in front of you not missing a beat. 

“Woah, did you two hook up or something?” Haechan speaks, never one to censor himself.

“None of your business.” You mumble, though you know the two of you hadn't.

“Oo, don’t let Jeno see!” Jisung warns as he passes by.

“Jeno?” Sungchan perks up, “What about him?”

Haechan and Jaemin just look at the each other, “Nothing.”

And with that, the boys leave you and Sungchan. 

The two of you deciding to go sit on logs of your own before you have set up your own tent. The silences of the trees swaying overtaking you.

“So,” He starts. “You wanna sleep with me this weekend?”

You almost spit out your drink. “What?”

“We don’t have to!” He retracts. “I just figured.. maybe you’d want to?”

“Sung, we’re friends and we work together. Won’t this make things weird?”

“It doesn’t have to happen again if you don’t want it to. Just thought I’d put it out there.” He shrugs, like it was all so simple. “You’re hot, I’m hot. We’re both single. Both sexually frustrated. So why not?”

You look to the ground, “I don’t know..”

“Actually, I’m sorry I asked, I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

You didn’t feel pressured though, and Sungchan was somewhat right. You did invite him out here with a inkling of hope that maybe you could bed him. Who wouldn’t want to anyways? You hadn't had sex in a while, and your attractive friend was ready and willing. So what if you had feelings for Jeno? They would pass. You should have a little fun. Fuck it. 

“Okay,” You speak. “I’d like that.”

He smiles, “Perfect.”

You’re about to respond when you hear the crunching of leaves behind you, Jeno and Sumin emerging from the bushes, hand in hand. 

Were the two together? You feel your smile falter a bit before you look away, Jeno didn’t owe you anything. And you knew the type of guy he was, who was to say he was going to even commit to Sumin? 

“There you two are!” Renjun says walking towards them. “Thought you’d gotten ravaged by a bear!”

“Oh, Jeno ravaged something..” Haechan comments, suggestively. 

Jeno shakes his head at the insinuation, Sumin eyes flickering over to you. “Hey! You made it!” 

“Yes!” You say, moving to hug her. Then you notice her eyes landing on Sungchan, and she starts practically eye-fucking him proudly. And he looks somewhat into it? You see that Jeno notices too, as he wavers his attention. 

“This is Sungchan.” You say, as she moves to introduce herself to him. 

“I’m Sumin! Jeno’s friend.” 

The air grows heavy as she says that, Jeno looking dejected and everyone else looking confused. So they weren’t together then?

You just shrug, going to bother Mark and his date, who still can’t get the tent up. “Need help?”

Mark’s date looks at you in relief, “Please! Mark told his other friend that we could do it.. but we’re having a hard time..”

“I got you,” You speak, noticing something off. “He’s doing it wrong.”

Mark sighs, “Damn,” He looks down. “You had to call me out in front of my date. I’m gonna go tell Sungchan about the time you threw up in Renjun’s mouth.”

“Don’t you dare!” You say, moving to chase after Mark as he begins running in the opposite direction, tent long forgotten. “You’re lying!” 

“No I’m not! Haechan was there too!” 

“I was where?” Haechan yells, wondering what all the commotion is.

You and Mark stop, hands on your knees as you pant out. Tired from chasing the boy around in circles, you try and catch your breath. 

“Don’t,” Pant. “Listen,” Pant. “To him.”

“Remember that night we played spin the bottle?” Mark begins, still breathless.

The others begin to gather around, drawn to the scene by Haechans loud voice. “Yeah I do.” He starts. “When you and I kissed?”

“You what?!” Jaemin exclaims, “Wait, why was I not invited?”

“Haechan and I did not kiss!” Mark laughs, and you giggle, knowing full well that he was lying to save face.

Haechan shrugs, “Whatever you say.”

“The point is that Renjun got thrown up on.” 

Renjun cringes, “I don’t like to think about that.”

“Wait by who?” Jeno asks, not amused.

“By her!” Mark says, wagging his finger at you. “Damn near threw up in Renjun’s mouth, she pulled away just in time.”

“You kissed Renjun?” Jeno asks, surprise evident on his face. 

You ignore him, what was the big deal anyways? It was spin the bottle, you were all drunk, and it landed on you and Renjun. Who cares?

“Mark that happened months ago!” You protest, “I didn’t know my limits.”

“It should’ve been me!” Haechan whines, faking a wound to his chest.

“You wanted to get thrown up on? Or to kiss Renjun?” Mark asks, and it was definitely a necessary question but Haechan just flips him off as he walks away.

The others just laugh and you turn to walk away but are stopped by Jeno pulling you aside. He drags you a few steps into the trees, far enough from everyone else that you two could have a private conversation. 

“Who all have you kissed?” He asks. 

“Huh?” 

“Answer the question.”

“No, I don’t want to.” You state, confused on his attitude. “You’ve got some nerve to come over here and ask me that, considering how bitchy you’ve been.”

“Me? You’re the one who’s acting childish and ignoring me.”

“So what?” You spout. “And why do you care who I’ve kissed anyways?”

“I don’t.” He says, “I guess I just thought I was the first one of us to kiss you.”

“Oh,” You say, fire rising in your chest. “So that makes me worth less to you? Knowing I’ve kissed Mark, Renjun, and Jaemin before I kissed you?”

“No it doesn’t.” He replies. “But it does make me jealous.”

You scoff, “Jealous? You have no right, especially not after you left me all confused the other day! You made me feel like I did something wrong.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“You just walked out. Was I that disgusting that you didn’t want me to touch you? You made me feel like shit when you left like that. I don’t deserve to feel that way.” 

“Woah woah,” He stops you. “Back it up, disgusting? You’ve got it all wrong.”

“Well what was I supposed to think?”

He’s silent for a moment as he tries to think of what to say. “That’s not why I walked out. The truth is, I didn’t want you to feel pressured, and I felt like I was pushing boundaries and-”

“I said I wanted it, I wanted nothing more than to touch you after that and you just blew me off.” You state. “It’s like you pulled me in to just push me away.”

“I’m so sorry,” He apologies, “I had no idea you felt that way.”

“Jeno,” You start, here goes nothing. “I have to be transparent with you, okay?”

“Okay..” He trails.

You couldn’t do this anymore, you couldn’t pretend. 

“Please don’t lead me on anymore. I have feelings for you, and it hurts for you to act like this with me.” Your chest weighs heavy and you await his response.

“You have feelings for me?”

“Don’t make me say it again.” You mumble, unable to make eye contact with the male beside you. You had thought it was completely obvious.

“I do too.”

You look up at him, “What?”

“Why do you think I asked for your help in the first place?”

“Because you needed a date?” You ask, confused.

He smiles, “My plan was never to get another date. I was hoping maybe at the end, I could just ask you. But then we ran into Sumin, and you found Sungchan and it all happened so fast, I just lost hope.” 

“I’m jealous knowing that our other friends have kissed you before, because I always imagined I’d be the first. In a world where I wasn’t too much of a pussy to ask you out.” Jeno continues, crunching sticks beneath his feet. “Instead I thought this stupid idea could get me somewhere. I was an idiot to think you wouldn’t have a date in the palm of your hand awaiting your call.”

You stay silent as he gathers his thoughts. He leans against a tree, “I’ve never had a girlfriend because I’ve been waiting for you, all the guys know and that’s why the tease me.”

Your head is spinning, that was why? He didn’t date other girls because of you? This couldn’t be true, how had you not seen it all this time?

“Well, more like waiting for me to grow the balls to ask you out. ‘Cause the time never felt right. But now, seeing you with Sungchan, seeing the way he looks at you. It felt like if I didn’t do something now, I’d lose you. But I acted even worse, and I made you think I didn’t like you in the process. I’m sorry, I’ve acted like a total jerk, but I won’t you let you go another minute thinking I don’t want you.”

You’re speechless at his confession, everything made sense now. Why he was so reluctant with Sumin. Why he really didn’t like Sungchan. It all fell together.

“Jeno,” You smile. “Just kiss me.” 

And he does, but it’s different this time. It’s slow and passionate, like a kiss is supposed to be. It’s not messy and needy like before, no it’s the opposite.

But it felt right, it felt better. 

“Tell me honestly,” He says as he pulls away, going to stroke your hair. “Am I a better kisser than Jaemin?”

Mood ruined.

You hit his chest, “Are you serious? You finish kissing the life out of me and then you ask me that? Romance is dead.” 

He laughs, but you can tell he’s still awaiting your response. “In all fairness, I can’t really say. That night was embarrassing. I took his shirt off and then we cringed and vowed to never speak of it again.” 

“So you’re not in love with Renjun, Mark, or Jaemin?” He asks, for clarification. 

“No, I swear.” You tease. “You’re the only idiot I’m dumb enough to like. But who’s to say that you’re not in love with Sumin?” 

“Sumin? How much do you want to bet that her and Sungchan are hooking up right now.” Jeno asks, and you had completely forgot about Sungchan.

“Oh no! Sungchan!” 

“What?”

“Sungchan expected to come out here and get laid.” You pause, nervous of Jeno’s reaction. 

But he seems understanding. “I had the same agreement with Sumin.”

Before you can respond, his eyes widen. “But you’re not going to anymore right?”

“No!” Rolling your eyes you look away. Though you smirk as you tug on his belt loop. “But do you plan on letting me get your pants off tonight?”

“Wow, you’re horny.” 

“Shut up!” You pout, “Come on, lets go out there and hope that our dates decided they like each other more than us.” 

Jeno nods his head and follows suit, the two of you returning from the trees to find some of the boys building a fire. 

“It’s not even dark.” You quirk an eyebrow.

“No but Chenle has an app that says sunset is in an hour.” Jaemin responds. Poor boy never knows what’s going on. “Anyways, where are yall’s dates? I thought you were with them.”

“No?” Jeno questions, furrowing his eye brows. 

“Oh, well they disappeared like twenty minutes ago.” 

You and Jeno look at each other, mentally celebrating. You’re glad that Sungchan had found some way to get laid this weekend, maybe not in the way he expected but, a win is a win. “You two look suspicious, whats going on? Please try and keep it down if you two decide to get freaky again.”

Jeno looks shocked at that, “You know?”

“I was there, and you two weren’t exactly quiet.” Jaemin deadpans, nose scrunching as he recalls the nights events. “You were all ‘Mmm yes so tight.’ I wanted to die.”

Oh god, he had heard all that? Why didn’t Jeno look embarrassed? You wanted to melt.

“Well,” Jeno says, pulling you closer to him by your waist. “There’s more where that came from, maybe try and wear earplugs.”

Your face grows hot as Jaemin starts complaining, “So what, are you two together now or?”

And a glint of hope appears in your eyes, “I’d like to be your girlfriend, you know. Your first.” You tease.

Jeno grins, “And I’d love to be your boyfriend.”

Jaemin gags at the scene, “Quit being gross and come help me start this fire.”

Your now-boyfriend Jeno moves to help Jaemin, Haechan approaching the three of you. “Woo! I heard from back there! Congrats Jeno!”

Chuckling, Jeno looks over at you, proud to know that you were officially his.

Though Renjun approaches the scene, “What about the others? Sungchan and whats-her-name?” 

“Sumin.” You correct. “I don’t even know, they ran off apparently.”

“Wait, just to clarify.” Jeno speaks up. “We’re kicking them out of our tents right?”

“Duh.”

-

The night comes shortly after. All of you, including your former dates, gathered around the campfire. And you’re glad to see Sungchan looks smitten with Sumin, you shooting him a thumbs up as he sees Jeno’s hand on your thigh.

He knew the entire time, he wasn’t stupid, he was just waiting for the two of you to realize. 

Seems like you were the only one who didn’t know of Jeno’s feelings for you.

The boys steadily trickle out, retreating to the comfort of their tents. Tired and red eye looking, but as you hear noises out of Haechan’s tent, you know they’re doing anything but sleeping.

You and Jeno bid the others goodnight, him helping you up and into the tent he so graciously put up himself. 

You giggle as he attempts to slip into his sleeping bag, “You don’t actually plan on sleeping do you?”

He looks at you like a deer caught in the headlights. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” You say, grinning slyly. “You still haven’t let me see what’s under the belt, baby.”

To be honest, you were really turned on by Jeno right now. Especially now, upon finding out he sleeps shirtless, you needed him so bad. Your mind couldn’t even think straight with him like this.

You’re cut from your daze at a loud moan that rips through the air, presumably coming from another tent. “Freaks.” You scoff, acting like you’re different.

A smile happens upon Jeno’s face. “I bet we can be louder.”

Grinning back, you feel yourself getting wetter. “Challenge accepted.”

He starts kissing up on your neck, making your arousal leak out even more. You’re set in his lap, grinding against him, and you can feel him hard under you.

You had to get those sweats off. 

You were a little shaky undoing his pants, his cock pretty in the light. Long and with a bulging vein on the underside. You moan at the sight of it, not wanting to wait to get it inside you. 

And there’s not a single regret donning your tongue as you lap up Jeno’s thick cock. Precum was gathered at the base, pink and glistening. And it looked so good, too good even. 

He moans out in ecstasy, truly not caring who heard. He thought this was the hottest thing ever, he had dreamed of this for so long, and now he was allowing himself to have it. To revel in you and you pretty eyes that looked up at him as you gag around him. All of it was nearly enough to finish him.

“No no, stop. Don’t wanna cum yet.” He pleads, but you barely let up. His hands resting on your head, unconsciously pushing it down. Until he gains strength to pull you off, bringing you up to meet his mouth.  Jeno had waited too long for this for him to cum without being inside you first. 

He pulls you into a messy kiss, tongues clashing and saliva dripping out. He fondles your breasts through your shirt, then moves to pull at the hem.

“Off.” He begs, and you oblige. His mouth immediately lands on your nipple, latching his hand onto the other, twisting and sucking fervently. 

“S-So good.” You let out, loving the way he was treating you. But you were impatient, and you had enough of the teasing.

“Need you in me Jeno..” You whine, pouting as he ignores you. He stays how he is for a few more seconds until he releases you from his mouth. 

He quickly goes to remove his bottoms fully, as well as yours. And you felt your wetness pooling by the second. “I can’t wait anymore, need to fuck you.”

And you’re glad, as you watch him line up his pretty cock with your entrance, you were sure you could finish from the sight alone. 

“Fuck..” He moans out, throwing his head back in pleasure as he slips into you. Wet and warm, he never wants to leave. He bottoms out, tip hitting your cervix as he asks for permission to move and you nod your head, desperate. 

You loved the way he stretched you out, unable to hide the string of moans that left your mouth. He felt so good inside you as his tip kissed your g-spot with every thrust. 

He rubs his thumb on your clit as you moan even louder. “Yes! Don’t stop! Mm.”

“It’s always been you.” He chokes out. “Always wanted you under me like this.” And you can’t deny the heat that it sends straight to your core, causing you to clench around him. “Better than I could have imagined.”

He doesn’t let up, desire taking over him as he bullies his cock into your cunt at a brutal pace. He was truly unlike anyone you had ever been with before. 

He rubs his thumb on your clit as he thrusts into you, bringing you the most pleasure you’re sure you’ve felt in your life. 

He silences your moans with a kiss, swallowing them into his mouth. Your arms clawing at his back, which was sure to leave marks. He slows his thrusts and you can tell hes getting close. 

“It’s okay, I’m close too. Cum, cum inside.” 

His eyes widen as he hears your words, this was a dream come true. 

“I-” He sputters, shaking his head.

“I’m on the pill.” You interrupt. “Please Jeno, please, need your cum in me.”

You moan out that you’re close and he’s right behind you, spilling out his seed into you as you orgasm. Your climax coming on strongly, and you can feel your legs trembling. He bites his lip, grunting as he finishes as well, filling you to the brim. 

You and Jeno just heavily breathe, him laying on top you slightly before getting up to remove himself. If it were up to you though, you’d keep him in you all night. Though, Jeno was a man of good hygiene, first and foremost. 

You let out a wince as he slides out of you, the empty feeling settling over you. 

He grabs a water bottle and pours it into one of the towels in your tent, and you smile, thankful he was going to clean you up. He wipes around your sensitive areas and slips your bottoms on, you still out of breath. You get both of your clothes on and sorted, ready to sleep now.

You’re sharing a moment of silence when your tent starts shaking rapidly, the shadow of two people appearing as you realize its your friends messing with you.

“Could you two be any louder ?!”

“You’re disgusting!”

“Tent’s have thin walls, you know?!”

You just bury your face into Jeno’s chest, laughing at the commotion.

“Leave my girl and I alone!” Jeno shouts out playfully, caressing your head.

My girl?

You could get used to that. 

[eyeless-cunt]

(srry if i already asked this- i have shit memory 😀) what are your kidnapping headcannons for yandere ej ? like how would he kidnap the reader , what would the first few days/weeks together be like , and how would he treat the reader ? tysm <3

Interesting thing to think about. Ej is an entirely different monster than any other yandere I write for. If he knows he can't make you fall normally for him...

CW/TW: Yandere Themes, Kidnapping, Drugging, Severe Manipulation and Medical Abuse. Heavy Derealization.

He would kidnap them while they were sleeping, of course. Ej's a cautious and calculated man, and he knows that no matter the method, the fear you experience will be the same. So he finds it kindest to do while you're unable to panic and sadly attempt to fight back. It's a quick but methodical process that he uses to get you home and situated. He'll think about bringing you some harmless objects from your previous home–things he thinks will get you more comfortable here faster. Your blankets, pillows, the clothes he watched you wear more often. The stuffed animal your grandma got you for your graduation years ago and your favorite red pen maybe. But unfortunately they all must be left behind along with any other objects you held close. The reasoning behind this is simple–he wants you to eventually forget about your past life entirely. If even the shirt on your back will help you remember then it has to be burned.

Jack wants to make you forget in the nicest and softest way possible, but memory in a healthy person isn't easily lost, especially if they're unwilling and missing what they had before. He mulls over the idea that he can make you willingly leave it all behind for him. The idea that he'll be so good to you that you never yearn to go back. But he's not stupid. He knows a strange eyeless creature wont win your love. Not after being kidnapped and locked up. Maybe if he didn't have grey skin he would have approached you in public first, trying to win your friendship and affections. But there's no guarantee in forever in that situation, and even if there was it simply wasn't possible. You can't hide sockets like these without a mask. Even with normal unmarked skin.

There are no doubts in his mind that you'll be terrified and confused when you wake up to find yourself in a small room with no windows or visible exits. So Jack does what he knows he's good at. Putting people to sleep. He continually uses a low dosage of the substance he concocted himself to keep you sleeping and unaware. As it works it's way through your body safely he thanks his millennia of bored research and testing. He had been planning to take you for a few years now, and so by the time he was ready to finally retrieve you he already had everything he needed for your stay. Of course by the end of his meddling in your head you may not remember the use of half the items he collected for you, but relearning wasn't going to be hard.

Your first few weeks will be spent drifting in and out of consciousness. He wants to make this process as quick and easy as possible. Jack spends this time mulling over all the small details in his carefully crafted plan. It may be a bit late now, but it's better than forgetting to iron out the smallest detail and having to deal with the repercussions when it's already far too late.

When he's finally ready for your eyes to open you'll be in a room that he's laid out to look like the average human hospital. The more believable his original lie is the easier time he'll have molding you into what he needs. Of course he understands how cruel he is. How devastating this loss will be for everyone who knew you and how you'll mourn their loss for years if he messes this up. But he won't mess up. He won't drop the ball on something this important. And when you awake to a tall man covered head to toe in white you'll be confused yes, but he can pretend to be a doctor well enough to ease the panic in your eyes.

He can tell you that you were in an accident. That you lost your memories and made up new ones to deal with the trauma. He can make up useless and random medical jargon for long enough that you just zone out as you cope with the loss of what you now can't tell are your real memories or not. Jack will tell you he knows they seem so real, he understands what you're going through, he has patients like you all the time. And he'll "prove" to you that these people in your memories don't exist. He'll even help you try to regain your 'real ones'. Enrolling you in 'therapy' and avoiding the question of, "Why does everyone I meet wear a mask," with, "Pardon? That's a question I'm unsure of how to answer. Perhaps speak with your therapist about the topic."

So you agree to speak with a therapist. You agree to weekly sessions and you agree to everything that your strange doctor suggests to you. If you can't agree you'll simply scream. You have no idea what's going on but at the very least you understand that you're insane. What person just makes up a whole other world in their head? When the reality is you belong to a different one. One that seems to have a much...smaller population. A world where everyone wears masks. You don't understand how you could have conjured up a world that's so completely different. There are so little similarities between the two. You couldn't believe it, even when everything he said made some sort of sense. Even when he showed you proof. It was unbelievable and unbearable.

Where are the fast food places, the internet, the cars and tvs? At most you've seen three people outside this room at any given time and you only leave this room a few times a day to go to the bathroom. The people in the halls don't move much or talk to you at all. You're afraid that if you tried to speak to them they'd... well you're not sure what they'd do. You don't know anything anymore. You don't understand how you made so many things that don't exist up in your head. Any hard questions you ask the doctor get unanswered with a simple, "Pardon?" And a few more words that all typically involve the idea of a therapist.

A therapist. So you didn't make those up. You didn't make up doctors. The trip to the office isn't far at all. In fact it seems to be in the same building. Your strange doctor and two very odd looking people in white coats with plain white masks led you there in a wheelchair. You're perfectly capable of walking but he insisted. Did you make up windows? There are none here. No sunlight. It's cold. "Do you know what the sun is?" You don't know who you're asking but the doctor responds anyways.

"Yes." That was a first. "It exists?" That question hangs in the air as he opens a wooden door, pushing you into a warmly lit room. Is this your life now? Weekly visits to a therapist because you're crazy? You didn't have any family or friends? Not even people you knew? Why hasn't anyone visited you?

"Just take a seat. He'll be out shortly." You can only stare, your body seemingly moving at a different time than everyone else here. You looked different–no mask. The only similarity was your clothes. What was really going on? Were you really just crazy? Was it that simple?

The door you entered from opened again, a man dressed similarly to the doctor but in brown tones walking in. His mask was plain. Simple. Just a flat black. Why couldn't you seem to ever find eyes behind these masks? Even the doctor's white mask should yeild some space, enough to see what lays behind, right?

"May I sit?" You nod, swallowing as he takes a seat on the other side of the table across from you. He asks you simple starter guestions, like how you're doing and settling in here since you've woken up

"I don't know if I'm fine. Or settling in here. I don't know what here is. I'm sorry, I can't answer any of these questions." Saying it out loud brings tears to your eyes, the emotions you're feeling bubbling to the surface too quickly to process.

"I understand. This must be very hard. I hope you don't mind, but your doctor gave me some notes on your condition. Is it still true that you don't remember your life here?" You nod. "I understand. And...is it true that you have memories of a different life? One that didn't actually happen?" Shaky now, you nod again. Cotton in your mouth prevents you from speaking.

"Okay. What's your name? Is it the same in both "worlds"?" I shake my head. "No. My name here was my middle name there." He nods, humming as he scribbles down something you can't make out.

"Do you think maybe that was the 'you' in that world trying to remember the real you? The you that is here now? Maybe you were giving yourself reminders. Or it was perhaps just your subconscious remembering. The same way someone you know will show up in your dreams?"

"Maybe. I don't know."

"Okay. Tell me more about this world you dreamt of. How similar or different was it from this one?" You didn't even know where to start. You told him about things you liked to do for fun, your family and friends, the music you listened to and how it was nothing like the world you lived in now. How this one was... depressing. Bleak.

"That does sound incredibly different. I think what happened was also a stress response. What I'm reading from your files is that you have no family here. I'm not sure about friends but I'm sure when you get home you'll find some mail from any friends or partners that might be worrrying about you. Maybe you felt depressed having no family to speak of, and so your body took the coma as a chance to make one. It's a strong possiblity."

"Home? Where do I live?" You didn't even think of that yet. What was outside this hospital? What friends would be sending mail to me? Partner?

"The address is listed here in your file, although you won't know where this is. Would you like to look? Might jog some memories." You looked. Nothing came up. It was just...numbers. They made no sense to you.

"It was worth a try. This session is over in five minutes. I have something for you before you go though." This grabs your attention.

A box. "Here you are. Go on and open it. They retrieved this from your house." You opened it, excited to finally see something that belonged to you in this strange world. Ah. A mask. A simple...black mask.

"It's quite strange to see someone without one here. I was quite taken aback upon meeting you, but I understand you've relearned cultures from a different sort of 'world'. Here, in this place it's extremely uncommon to see a person without one in public. Typically the only people who see your face are your immediate family and your life partner. You've shown many people your face since being here, so your potential partner at home may be a bit upset if you come home without one." That last part was said as a joke, but you found more questions in it. Did you have a 'life partner'? Was that marriage?

"Go on, see if it feels familiar. It wouldn't be a good idea to travel now without it on."

The inside of the mask is cold. It feels lifeless. Was this how your life was? Is that why you had to create a happier one? Now as you sat with it's loss, you wished you had never dreamt it up in the first place.

[napakmahal]

I’d never dreamed that I’d meet somebody like you

Pairing: Hiro Hamada/reader

Trigger warnings: heavy talks of grief and loss, depression (chat unfortunately Tadashi has died in this one)

“I don’t get why we’re driving two hours away just for therapy.” Hiro was becoming pissed off at his aunt's insistence that he go to therapy at least once a week either in person or on the phone. He liked phone therapy better, the crackling audio made it easier to hide slight twinges in his voice.

“It’s part of your plan, remember? Your doctor said that’s how we get you the best care possible and you agreed to try it, remember?” Cass pressed. Of course Hiro remembered, he remembered how bad it pissed him off. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? He said he was fine, that should have been enough.

In one month Hiro had been passed around to three different therapists of different genders, nationalities, and backgrounds to try and connect with him better. None of them worked and it was becoming increasingly clearer that one-on-one therapy just wasn’t for him. He didn’t talk and when he did he lied. Plus, one-on-one with somebody twenty years older than him who’d forgotten what it was like to be fifteen or said stupid shit like “he’s in a better place now.” wasn’t super helpful.

So enter group therapy. Just a big circle of teens talking about their problems like a pubescent al-anon. Hiro may have been pissed but Cass had a right to be concerned. With him not going to school he had nothing to occupy his time. She’d wake up early to open the cafe and he’d already be up on his phone. And she knew for a fact he wasn’t getting any sleep. He’d sleep all day and eat nothing before being up all night and eating anything that was quiet enough she wouldn’t hear him.

“Just seems kinda pointless.” He sighed and leaned back in the passenger seat. “I’m fine, everyone’s just being so dramatic.”

Cass didn’t respond to that. She just leaned over and grabbed onto her nephew’s hand and kissed his palm. “Did you take your drops today?”

“Mmhm.” Hiro lied.

After the blast an EMT on sight noticed that Hiro’s right ear was bleeding from the pressure while he was taken to the hospital for possible concussion. For weeks after that all he could hear was a persistent ringing but thankfully he hadn’t lost his hearing and the fall had hurt his shoulder blades more than it’d hurt his head. After his brain scan in the hospital his doctor had told him how lucky he was. Hiro swore that if he ever got diagnosed with a stroke, he’d pray he wasn’t his doctor.

They pulled up to another branch of their hospital and parked out front and just in the truck silently.

“Can we go home now?” Hiro spoke up.

Cass let out a breathy laugh and looked over at him. “The program lasts ten weeks, if you make it to five and still want out then okay. Deal?” She held out her hand.

Hiro thought about it for a moment. Five weeks of keeping his mouth shut and letting other people talk about their problems for an hour and a half sounded like a solid enough idea. So he and his aunt shook on it.

Five weeks, just gotta make it five weeks.

They walked into the building with Cass’s arm draped over Hiro’s still healing shoulders. The second they arrived at the receptionists desk a tablet was shoved in their faces. “Sit down, fill out the online questionnaire.”

The questions were always the same:

In the past week I felt mad: sometimes, always, never, often

I worried something bad might happen: sometimes, always, never, often

I felt like I couldn’t do anything right: sometimes, always, never, often

I or people around me participated in substance abuse: I did, my friends and I did, my parents did, none of the above

Have you ever been diagnosed antidepressants: yes or no

Have you made any attempt to commit suicide or thought of commiting suicide within the past week: yes or no

It took Hiro a total of seven minutes to complete the questionnaire without putting any thought into his answers. When it was the ‘parent/guardian’ portion Cass took forever to finish.

When the questionnaire was filled out, a woman in a blue blouse and a key card walked over to them. She asked with sweetness, “Hiro?”

She introduced herself as Dr. Yang and walked Hiro and Cass all the way to her personal office. The walls were covered with older teens graduation photos, kindergarten drawings, and fidget toys on her shelves.

“I know you’re here for group, but because your previous doctors told us that you’ve never done group therapy before I just wanna give you the low down. Is that okay?” Dr. Yang looked at Hiro. He just nodded with a smile. Of course it was okay, he was here wasn’t he? She explained about how some of the kids had been doing groups with her before and how privacy in group settings worked. Hiro was all fine listening to all the foundational stuff until she started getting too personal.

Dr. Yang looked directly at him. “So, Hiro. Can we just talk a little bit about why you’re here? I was informed by one of your previous doctors that your brother just passed away recently. I’m so sorry for your loss, I’m sure it was hard.”

“It’s okay, thanks.” Hiro finally spoke up. It wasn’t okay but it made everyone less uncomfortable if he just said it was okay. “But I guess I’ve just been like- sad for a while.”

“And that’s perfectly alright.”

That was the thing that pissed Hiro off the most. How his therapists would reassure him that it was okay to be sad. No shit it was okay to be sad, somebody died! He knew that and having people say that to him made him feel like he was being treated like an idiot.

The two of them talked for a bit until Dr. Yang sent him out of the office so she could speak with Cass alone. One therapist had invited her into the room to ask her about her perspective and she ended up basically sobbing–which Hiro felt really bad about. It just went to show that she’d been spending a shit-ton of time worrying about him yet nobody was really worried about her.

Hiro walked over to the room his group would be meeting. Waiting for the pre-meeting with Dr. Yang and his aunt to be over when he saw you already sitting there. You looked up towards the door at the sound of footsteps. You two exchanged smiles but didn’t say anything to each other and Hiro took the seat two chairs away from you. It was awkward.

“Are you new?” You asked, trying to break the silence.

Hiro paused as if he was shocked you were talking to him but answered. “Yeah, this is my first group therapy session.”

“Cool, cool.” You nodded.

Awkward silence again.

This time Hiro spoke up first. “I like your shoes.”

“Oh thanks. Yours are cool too.” You pointed to his sneakers. The laces obviously didn’t come with the shoes when he bought them. He must have replaced them but they looked kinda cool. The session didn’t start for another fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes in that room in awkward silence sounded vile. “Do you want a lemonade pop? I know where they keep them.”

“Uhh, sure.” He agreed for the exact same reason you asked. The silence was deafening.

After you snuck your way into the first aid room and grabbed two lemonade pops from the freezer, you two sat down on the stool of one of the larger windows.

“So what are you here for?” You brought the frozen treat up to your lips.

Hiro was still trying to open his when he said, “Because I’m sad.”

“We’re all sad, you’ll fit right in.” You joked. Hiro genuinely let out a small laugh at that which felt nice. “No but pretty much everyone here is chill.”

“How many times have you done this?” He took a small scrape of the pop with his front teeth.

“This will be my second program and my last. I mostly know a lot of the other people here from school.” You shrugged. “Where do you go to school?”

He answered quickly, “I’m not in school right now.”

“Oh.”

Shit. Now you probably think he’s some kind of degenerate high school dropout.

“I just haven’t registered.” He added immediately after.

You licked the side of your pop to keep it from melting onto your clothes. “Did you move?”

“No, not exactly.” Hiro had realized he’d accidentally opened up a can of worms into his personal life for you.

Intrigued, you pressed him for more details. “What happened?”

“I got accepted somewhere, I just need to register.” Perfect, vague yet descriptive.

Damn. He must go to some kind of private school. Why else would he use the word accepted? You joked, “Damn rich people.”

Hiro nearly laughed. Rich? They were relatively low income and only saved thousands of dollars a year on car payments because he could fix their truck for free. Years ago after one of Cass’s friends paid her daughters 20,000 dollar tuition she told both Hiro and Tadashi that she would not be paying for any tuition. She’d pay for books, parking spots, and the occasional on campus meal. But never tuition. Just her luck Tadashi got his fifty-thousand dollar scholarship plus financial aid and Hiro got a full-ride. If he ever planned on using it.

“We aren’t rich, trust me.” He laughed to himself.

“Private school kids are rich to some degree.” You shrugged. Denying their richness is kind of a rich people thing to do.

His eyebrows contorted with confusion as he looked at you. “I didn’t get into a private school.”

“You said you were accepted.” Now it was your turn to be confused.

“Yeah, accepted to college.” He explained slowly.

You stared at him blankly. There was no way. “College? How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

“Bullshit.” You shot immediately right after. “I don’t believe you. That’s bullshit. You are bullshit.”

A smile tugged further at Hiro’s lips. “I swear I’m not lying. I got accepted to SFIT.”

“Why are you really here? Is it actually because you’re a pathological liar?” You drilled. Graduating early wasn’t super uncommon but graduating early and getting accepted to a prestigious university like SFIT was insanity. “You’re telling me you graduated at fifteen and got accepted to a top school like SFIT?”

“Well I actually graduated at thirteen.”

“You are such a liar!” You reiterated once again. If he graduated at thirteen that must have meant he was nine when he started high school. No fucking way. “Prove it to me.”

“Well my acceptance letter is at home but sure I’ll show it to you.” He finished up his lemonade pop and licked the remaining ice chunk off the stick.

You scoffed. “And give you time to print a fake one out? No, the second you get home send me a picture of it.”

Just like that you exchanged phone numbers. While typing in each other's numbers Hiro realized this was the first time he’d laughed with someone in weeks and it actually felt really nice. But it was overridden by a feeling of guilt. Why did he feel so guilty? He just laughed with someone he found funny. Why did feeling a small bit of true joy after his brother's death make him feel so obnoxious? Almost like he was rubbing it in someone's face. Or like he was doing it to purposely hurt someone.

It’s weird thinking you know loss but then life gives you the finger and proves you wrong. Hiro lost both his parents, that’s plenty of loss for anyone. But he was only three when it happened so what did he really understand about it? Hiro has always been told he’s smart and rightfully so. With an IQ of roughly 210 it’s a correct assumption to make. But if losing his brother has taught him anything, it’s that he knows nothing about shit that really matters.

Hiro really hated the waves. A brochure on grieving a doctor had given him said that the heaviness of grief episodes will wax and wane. In good there will be bad but in bad there will be good. But it will never be the same. Talking with you actually felt like something that wasn’t soul crushing numbness but a wave of guilt and overthinking immediately followed it.

Nothing would ever be the same.

While Hiro was wrestling with such a random wave of heavy feelings you looked up from typing his number into your phone. “Wait, I just realized I don’t know your name.”

He snapped out of his small daze and looked you dead in the eyes. “Hiro,” He gave you a small smile and held out his hand for you to shake. “My name’s Hiro.”

You gracefully smiled back at him and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you Hiro. I’m y/n.”

[twinsunstars]

Wherever Your World Is - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Summary: Omega, a young curious mermaid, explores a sunken ship, while intrigued eyes are kept closely on her.

Notes: Hi everyone! Thank you for patiently waiting for another chapter since the first one! Finally finished up Chapter 2, so you'll all get to meet our little mermaid and a few other important characters! Little bit for your information, AZI has they/them pronouns. Hope you enjoy the chapter! Read either below or on AO3! divider by @stars-n-spice !

Wherever Your World Is Masterlist

Fanfic Summary: A young mermaid filled with hope discovers secrets about her past and seeks to reunite with her family at many costs, getting her chance to be with the land dwellers she had grown so fascinated of. The mermaid strikes a deal with dark magic and begins her mission of becoming a human again. (A Bad Batch + Little Mermaid AU)

The sea glimmered under the bright sun laying still in the atmosphere. Sea creatures roamed around the waters, following their own paths wherever fate led them to go. 

Down in the depths of the ocean, many unique living beings traveled among small fields of coral and multicolored seaweed that grew during the annual harvest seasons. Bright sea flowers blossomed in various areas to add beauty to the oceanic scenery. Many land dwellers would admire the ocean’s creations and sometimes take them for themselves so that they could have the sea’s treasures for themselves.

A flowy tail dressed in ribbons of sea blue and honey gold swam past a couple of coral reefs that had aged brilliantly over the years. The young mermaid examined her surroundings, taking in the beautiful palettes part of the ocean’s life. She continued swimming as the sun’s rays that seeped through the waters grew dimmer to make the ocean appear slightly darker. 

The mermaid, about fourteen, reached a sector of the ocean filled with sunken debris and litter scattered all over the ocean floor. She stopped swimming, her blond curls floating up and down in the water. The curls often brushed against the shoulders of her sleeved uniform that was in the colors of white, blue, and red. The centerpiece of her silver headdress dangled as she kept herself steady with her tail. She held onto a dark gray bag strapped around her back. 

The mermaid gasped and smiled in awe as she spotted a large destroyed mass of metal sunken into the ocean floor. A starship. The mermaid had secretly read about many of these large technologies that land dwellers would build to fly up above the water. She had dreamed about what the surface looked like and how millions of tiny circular objects stood still in the sky, shining bright so others could see them from below and around them while flying in a starship. 

“Omega, I am not sure we should be traveling around these areas.” A silver crab swam forward to the mermaid as fast as its small legs could go. The crab examined its surroundings, feeling uneasy about all of the junk and the dangerous creatures potentially roaming around in these parts of the ocean. But the young mermaid had convinced them to go with her and it was their job to make sure she was safe. 

Omega turned to the little crab. “Oh come on A-zee, we’ll be fine. Can’t just give up now that we found something as amazing as this!” 

She had given the nickname to the crab based on the letters and numbers her mistress had assigned the crab when she used to experiment on them. Ever since she was little, AZI had been by her side and was always a good buddy to talk to. 

AZI settled down on Omega’s shoulder. “But, if you remember correctly, we are supposed to be-”

“Come on!” The little mermaid didn’t pay attention to AZI, gently holding them as she swam toward the destroyed starship. AZI held on to Omega’s hands as she excitedly swam as fast as she could, wishing she would listen. 

Omega slowed down her pace and swam up, observing the ruins from above. The starship had been broken in half and many of its parts had been shattered. Omega wondered what could have done so much damage to something so beautiful. The entire roof of the starship had been torn apart from it, allowing the inside to be completely visible from above. Its wings had been ripped away and laid next to the ship on each side. Whatever its colors were when it was a working ship, they were no longer visible as algae and rust covered the ship. 

“A-zee, have you ever seen something so amazing?”

AZI was shocked at the amount of destruction the ship had taken in its mysterious past. They looked up at Omega, whose eyes sparkled with curiosity. She smiled at AZI and held on to them as she swam down and entered the starship. 

Many of the large control screens in the ship were cracked and broken, and there were so many items Omega didn’t know about littered around the floor. Her hands loosened as AZI broke free of her hold.

“Omega, please. We shouldn’t be here,” AZI pleaded. They couldn’t help but feel continuously worried about where they were. This sector of the ocean was known for being an area where many large and predatory creatures strolled, and merfolk who often went into these types of areas never came back. 

“A-zee, you can’t back out now when we’ve found so many interesting things.” Omega turned to him. “Especially when we can start so many research projects on what we find.”

AZI perked up. “Research?” Omega knew it was his favorite thing to do in the labs. It was the key to getting AZI to explore with her. “Yes, we can research anything we find! Maybe we can research this?” AZI got eager to explore and swam everywhere, asking if they could research certain things AZI found interesting. 

Omega swam around curiously and picked up anything her eyes wanted to see closely. Her small hands reached for a small rectangular item that had a cracked screen in the middle and other smaller squares in red and white. 

“What is this?” Omega tapped her fingers on the item, pressing the buttons to see if they would possibly do anything. It didn’t resemble any of the underwater technology she was familiar with. Omega took off her bag and placed the item in it. There was a chance her friend knew what it was. 

AZI slowly wandered around the ship, looking for things to research about. They watched Omega circle the ship and look at the various trinkets she would discover. She had picked up something that had a very unusual shape, something like a bent V. Her fingers trailed down the metal and reached a circular opening. Omega tilted the artifact and noticed something thin that could be pulled back. Eager, she pulled it back, causing something bright red to shoot out and strike one of the screens, shattering the glass. 

AZI yelped and quickly hid behind a control panel. Omega covered her mouth out of shock. “Whoa.” She moved her fingers away from the trigger and held the artifact carefully. Whatever this was, it was powerful. Omega delicately placed it into her bag as another item to collect. 

AZI swam out and sighed in relief to calm themselves down. They hoped no one had heard the loud shot nearby. “Omega, please be careful.” AZI didn’t know what they would tell the mistress if something happened to her. 

“What was that?” AZI could have sworn they heard something make a rustling noise somewhere. They turned and saw nothing behind them. Their anxiety rose as AZI swam over to Omega, who was picking up something silver and possibly sharp, and it seemed to resemble a trident. Omega tilted her head and examined the object. “I wonder what this is.”

“Omega, maybe we should head back now? Mistress Se could get worried, and I think there’s something out there,” AZI suggested, floating next to her hair. Omega let out a sigh. 

“Relax, A-zee. Everything is fine. You’re not getting soft legs, are you?”

AZI crossed their claws. “No, I am not.”

Omega stashed the silver artifact into her bag and strapped it onto her back. She looked up and saw her and AZI’s reflection on the cracked screen in front of them. Her eyes widened as she saw something else coming towards them. 

“A-zee!” Omega screamed, quickly grabbing AZI and flapping her tail fins, swimming away before a giant red-orange aquabeast launched itself in their direction. AZI yelped as Omega held a grasp on them in her hands. The aquabeast raced towards the young mermaid while ransacking through the destroyed starship, its large and thinly sharp teeth attempting to tear Omega’s tail into half. 

Omega swam away from the monstrous creature as fast as she could, swimming out of the ruins of the starship into the seaweed maze. She zigzagged through the maze as the beast followed her tail. AZI held on, trying not to feel sick with every sharp turn Omega took through the maze. She hoped she would lose the creature in the maze, but it was right on her tail with every swift movement. She panted, finding her way out of the maze with the beast following behind. 

The aquabeast growled and followed Omega. Her heart pounded in fear as she tried to find a way to get rid of the creature. She couldn’t see any other route of escape around all the ship debris lying on the floor. 

Omega instantly thought back to the artifact she had picked up earlier that had shot out a red blast. Maybe she could use it against the sea creature to get it away. She tried hard to swim faster with the beast right behind her. 

“AZI, I need you to reach into my bag and grab the artifact I accidentally used earlier that hit the screen. I’ll distract the creature!” she quickly instructed AZI. 

AZI heard Omega and looked up at her. “Omega, I don’t think that is the wisest course of action!”

“Just give me some time! I can use the artifact from earlier to make it go away! Take my bag!” Omega flapped her tail faster and let AZI go from her grasp. AZI swallowed and grabbed Omega’s bag, two small artifacts falling out from it.

“Hey, over here!” Omega exclaimed and waved her arms and tail to get the aquabeast’s attention all on her. The aquabeast roared at her and fiercely swam in her direction. She kept on swimming away in zig-zags around the ocean debris to give AZI some time to take the artifact out. AZI tried to remember what it looked like and quickly scurried through the things Omega had picked up. They found the artifact and pulled it out with both their claws. 

“Omega!” AZI shouted. They tried to swim towards Omega to throw her the artifact. Trying to catch her breath, Omega swam in AZI’s direction as the aquabeast kept on following Omega inches away from her. She was growing tired, but she was growing near the artifact. Omega reached her hand out towards AZI as AZI was swimming towards her. They let go of the artifact and threw it towards Omega. 

Omega dove down and caught the artifact. Swiftly turning as her instinct took over without warning, she held the artifact with two hands and laid her finger on the trigger just like earlier. She focused her aim on the beast charging towards her and instantly pulled the trigger. 

A bright line of red shot in the direction of the aquabeast, striking the beast’s head and grazing its scales. Omega kept on firing as much as she could at the beast. The beast was hit with two more shots, one nearly hitting its eye. The aquabeast let out a growl and began turning around to flee. It let out a small growl and swam away while Omega continued firing blaster shots at it. 

Omega released her finger from the trigger on the artifact, exhaling. Her right hand shook a bit. She didn’t know how she did that. She had never held or used an artifact like this in her life before. It just felt like something natural to her at that moment, as if it was a skill in her blood. Omega shook it off and kept on swimming.

AZI followed behind Omega with her bag as the duo swam out of the sector away from all the debris. The ocean water turned a brighter shade of blue, disregarding the cloudy weather that made the sector full of debris seem all dark and mysterious. 

Omega slowed down and turned to check on her little crab friend. “You okay, AZI?” She swam over to them to take her bag from them so their small claws weren’t lugging heavy weight. 

“I am doing fine, though I think I will need some time to recover.” 

Omega couldn’t help but let out a small giggle. “You were pretty brave out there.” She took AZI back into her small hands. They looked like their small legs were getting tired from all the fast swimming they had just endured. “Come on, let’s head to the refinery.”

Now why did AZI feel like they were forgetting something important? All that fast swimming made them quite tired. AZI felt like catching a quick power nap in Omega’s hold until the two reached their destination. 

***

Omega and AZI reached an area of the ocean brimming with orange waves of sea smoke forming inside the water from the refinery’s structures. The refinery had worked to mine and gather many sea crystals that were utilized to power a lot of homes and structures that were built by merfolk. There were many refineries like this out there, but this was one of the lesser-known refineries living in the farther sectors of this ocean, which made it vulnerable to taking advantage of young child labor. 

The former owner of the refinery had been discovered by the young workers themselves to be exploiting his workers and hiding the profits all for himself. The owner was overthrown by the workers. Today, it would still gather crystals, but it was also more like a factory that collected much clutter and debris land dwellers had dumped and left in the ocean and worked to turn them into items that could be useful for merfolks’ homes. Land dwellers were considered monsters and poisoners to the ocean, but all the scrap they left behind was taken into advantage.

Many of the mer-workers were young teenagers and some adults who had been winded up in the business because they needed access to a job and a place to stay. After removing their former boss from control, the workers stayed at the refinery and continued to mine sea crystals for other merfolk. It was the only home the teenagers ever knew, and the adults who were around helped to take care of the young mermaids. 

Omega knew one of the young workers after meeting him at a small crystal cave she had been secretly exploring in hopes of finding anything for her collection. The young merboy had noticed all the things she had collected and began to ask her where she had gotten them. Omega was suspicious of him at first in fear that he might steal anything she found, but once the merboy began to name some of the artifacts she had found and tell her what land dwellers used them for, Omega was intrigued by everything that he knew about land dwellers. Omega wanted to know more and had long entrusted him to be her informant on all things related to land dwellers. 

AZI had woken up by the time the two arrived at the refinery, swimming alongside their friend. Omega swam inside, looping around machines and swimming past other merfolk who resided and worked here. She waved and gave a few greetings to the workers as she passed them by.

“Hey, Omega!” A merboy with a hairstyle similar to a mohawk and red markings surrounding his neck waved. “Find more good things today?”

“Yep!” Omega beamed. She hadn’t noticed that her headdress was crooked from all the rapid swimming and her hands were a little stained from the artifacts she had picked up (and used).

“Where did you go this time? Your hairpiece is out of place, by the way,” Drake pointed out. Omega moved a hand to the centerpiece of her headdress and found the centerpiece to be on the right side of her forehead. She quickly took it off and put it back on, hoping it wasn’t messy anymore. It would have been trouble if Mistress Se saw her that way. 

“A sunken starship,” Omega answered him. Drake’s curiosity perked up, which Omega gave a smile to as another reply. “It’s in the outer sectors. I can show you guys another time.”

“You sure you should be wandering around in places like that? Wouldn’t your caretaker get upset?” asked Drake. 

“Hey, as long as I don’t get caught doing it,” Omega shrugged. “Curiosity does make the crab stronger.” Omega had learned that underwater phrase from the boys who lived here. 

Drake chuckled. “Looking forward to it. Benni’s in the back handing out some food,” he told her.

“Thanks.” Omega swam forward past Drake, heading to the eating area of the refinery. This time of the day was the break hour. All workers were getting themselves something to eat before their next shifts, hence Omega often came to the refinery during this time. 

AZI followed Omega and entered the refinery’s break area, where many merfolk were enjoying some food and snacks during their breaks. Their former owner was no longer around to restrict their access to food and necessary supplies for their wellbeing, keeping it all to himself. The merfolk were able to work without going hungry or thirsty for long periods of time. 

“Remember, you developed an allergy to these. You shouldn’t be eating them anymore.” A merboy with a maroon tail advised an older mermaid while giving her some food on a tray. The mermaid thanked the boy and went off to eat with others. 

“Omega!” Benni Baro swam over to Omega and AZI. “How ya doing?” Before Omega could respond, he spotted her bag and continued, “You’ve got quite the finds this time.” He tilted his head, signaling her to follow him to the main control room in the refinery. 

The control room had been the place where their former owner had hidden all of their food away from them. Now it was just a place to keep a record of things and to hang out sometimes. Benni pressed a switch to open the door, leading Omega and AZI inside. 

“I lost some things because of a mishap, but I got what I found.” Omega took out the artifacts she collected one by one onto the desk. 

“Let me guess, a giant beast tried to eat you and A-zee,” Benni guessed. Omega looked at him, surprised his guess was right this time. 

Benni smiled, getting the notion that he was right. “It’s getting quite common in some areas. Think it’s migration season. Oh, I also have something to show you.” He swam over to a shelf and picked up a golden flower. 

“I found it this morning floating on the ocean surface. There was a really large sea ship passing by when I found them. There were a few floating around, but I don’t know why.”

“A sea ship?” Omega got curious. “What did it look like?”

“I couldn’t get a good look at it, but it was red and black. And huge. Might have belonged to the royal family on land.”

Omega had heard about the royal land dwellers that lived on the surface from Benni. He had never seen what they look like, but he would always hear land dwellers talking about them. 

Benni placed the flower in Omega’s hands. “What is this?”

“Not sure,” Benni answered. “Some kind of land flower. I think they’re native to the island near us.”

It was so small and beautiful. Omega had always explored flowers that grow underwater, but this one was special since it grew on land. Its petals were so soft and delicate. Deep inside, she felt connected to this flower. As if it was meant for her. “I wish I could have seen the ship.”

“Still won’t let ya go anywhere near the surface, huh?”

“No,” she sighed, crossing her arms. “Mistress Se says it's forbidden and dangerous to go anywhere near the surface.”

“Mistress Se is right,” AZI jumped in. “Land dwellers are said to act very vicious towards sea creatures like us. Someone could spot you, and they could do the unthinkable.” AZI didn’t want to think about what land dwellers did with crabs. 

“Yeah, they can be true, but I don’t think all of them are like that. Alrighty, let’s see here.” Benni changed the conversation and scattered the artifacts Omega had brought, picking them up and feeling their textures. AZI crawled onto the desk around the artifacts. Benni gave them a gentle pat on the head. 

“Interesting.” Benni picked up the small silver artifact that resembled a trident, holding it between two fingers. 

Omega swam an inch closer, her curiosity focusing on the object. “What is it?” she asked with an intrigued tone.

Benni twirled the trident-like artifact. “Pretty sure it’s called a dinglehopper.”

“A dinglehopper.” Omega took the artifact from his hand, examining it more closely now that she knew its name. “What is it used for?”

“Sometimes in the marketplace, I’d see them using this to eat their food.” Benni was a mer-shifter, meaning that he had the ability to transform from a sea creature into a land dweller. Not many mer-people were born with that ability and some wished they had that capability. It was said that mer-shifters were a high-ranking species in the world of merfolk underwater in ancient times, though as the number of mer-shifters were declining, that all became a thing of the past. Benni was the only mer-shifter Omega had met. She dreamed of having his ability so she could turn into a land dweller and visit the surface like he could to collect items. But like many others, she was born a normal mermaid.

“What about this?” Omega carefully picked up the artifact she had used to fight off the aquabeast. She made sure to distance her fingers away from the trigger. 

Benni eyed the artifact, tilting his head. Omega continued, “I had found this, and I used it when the aquabeast was chasing me and AZI.”

“What do you mean you ‘used’ it?” Benni asked her. 

“A loud shot would come out from the artifact whenever Omega tried to get the beast to leave, and it did work,” AZI elaborated. 

Benni raised an eyebrow. Omega pointed to the trigger. “You pull that back with a finger and it makes something bright red come out of it-”

He pulled the trigger, a red shot striking the door. Omega and AZI jumped in surprise from the blaster shot. Benni didn’t quite expect that to happen. 

“Hmm, I’m not sure. Never seen it before,” he said. “But it could be called a blaster. You know, because it blasted the door.”

“Very funny,” Omega rolled her eyes. “What about this though? It has buttons like the ones in the labs, but it doesn't really look like anything the Kaminoans use.” She picked up the rectangular item from earlier with the buttons on it. 

Benni took it from her hands and looked at it closer, pressing the buttons. “Well, it’s not going to do anything underwater, so nothing like we have. But I think it’s something used for collecting and presenting data.”

Presenting data. Those words made Omega think. “The data….” She slapped a hand to the top of her head. “The presentation! A-zee, Mistress Se’s going to kill me!”

AZI just remembered what they were trying to tell the girl themselves. “I tried to remind you, Omega, but you wouldn’t listen.”

“I wonder if there’s anything stored in here,” said Benni, toying with the artifact. He hadn’t paid attention to what Omega had said as she began to pack up the artifacts back into her bag. 

“Sorry, I have to go. I’ll come by another time!” Omega strapped her bag on and scooped up AZI into one hand, the other holding her golden flower. “Thank you!” 

“Anytime!” Omega waved to Benni as she quickly swam her way out of the refinery. She hoped she wouldn’t get into too much trouble once she reached home. 

***

“Swim home fast, little one.”

Omega swam as fast as she could to get back home. AZI kept themselves in her hand and talked to her as they swam home. She was visible on a circular floating screen that had dark green magic swirling around its borders. A merman watched Omega with curious thoughts running through his mind. 

In an unknown sector of the ocean, multi-colored sea life glowed brightly around a large mass of black coral. Three mer-people lived inside surrounded by all of the unique creatures and plants far away from other merfolk and sea creatures who lived in the ocean. 

A mermaid with an orange top and tail with golden specks sprinkled around her tail like glitter watched Omega. Her dark brown ponytail floated in the water as she leaned forward to look closer at Omega. She yearned to meet her one day. 

With a swift hand movement, the magic screen disappeared into the water. The mermaid watched the merman swim away towards a shelf formed by coral that was filled with different vials of any shape and color. His sharp dark green tail moved back and forth, scales patterned across his collarbone and shoulders that were embroidered on his skin visible under the light. He tilted his head while inspecting a few vials, his black hair swaying to the side in the water. 

“Does Mistress Se really take good care of Omega?” the mermaid asked him. She lightly swung her tail back and forth, almost like a young land dweller who dangles and kicks their feet over water while sitting on a dock near the sea. 

“She is Nala Se’s prized creation,” the merman replied, keeping his eyes on the vials. “The Kaminoan would do anything to make sure that she is kept safe and far away from the truth.”

The mermaid couldn’t help but feel dispirited. She had known Nala Se for half of her childhood, and she only remembered continuous tests and days locked up in a room with some things to keep her mind busy. Never any close care or bother regarding what happened to her. All she was to the Kaminoan was another experiment to be used and thrown away.

The merman slightly itched his left arm, which was covered in multiple scars and a few very pale bruises. He averted his eyes to the mermaid, noticing the way she was getting lost in her thoughts.

“No one can ever be trusted. They threw you away, just like everyone did to me,” he said. 

He was the one who had picked her up after being ousted by the Kaminoan. The mermaid wasn’t needed anymore for any experiments, slated for termination. The merman had saved her life, and she had remained by his side since, treated more like a living being than an experiment. 

“Do you trust me?” the mermaid asked him. The merman raised an eyebrow, not responding to the question. 

“I want to keep a watch on Omega. If you think she could be helpful to what you seek, it’s good to know where she often goes and what else could be useful to take advantage of.”

The real truth was that she just wanted to see more of her little sister. 

“Emerie-”

“Please let me do this,” Emerie pleaded. 

“What exactly is a little girl going to do to help you?”

The voice of another mermaid sitting above them while working with some large vials entered the conversation, grabbing their attention. She turned to face the two who were below her, her silky purple tail swaying in the water. Her dark brown hair was kept in a tight bun to try and avoid messy hair, her front bangs and strands of hair often lifting up in the water. She continued, “Allow me to go with her if she’s going to go outside of this place. She can’t go alone. And I don’t quite like being kept on the sidelines when it comes to your plans.”

“Don’t be too ambitious, Dr. Scalder,” the merman told her. The mermaid simply kept a frown and tried not to roll her eyes, turning back to her work. 

The merman thought for a moment before turning back to Emerie. He was hesitant about it, but it could prove to be beneficial. “You may keep an eye on Omega, and Dr. Scalder will go with you.”

Emerie wasn't thrilled about someone tagging along with her, but she lit up a smile. “Thank you, Dr. Hemlock.”

Scalder swam down to join Emerie, swimming out of their hideout (though it was considered more of a base). Cries for help echoed nearby in the mix of screams and whines. Many mermen, identical in physical appearance, were kept behind prisons built of dark coral. While the mermaids swam past those prisons, the mermen watched them, freely swimming while they were kept confined to their cells. Many of the mermen scowled at the mermaids. 

Emerie looked at the helpless mermen and quickly moved her gaze away in seconds. She was one like them, despite being very different. She couldn’t do anything about them. 

The mermaids made it outside, the mermen’s voices growing lower as they swam away. The mermen began to grow silent in their cells. A small smirk tugged at Hemlock’s lips, having enjoyed the desperation of the mermen in his captivity. He snapped his fingers, the floating screen formed by his magic reappearing. 

Omega was almost home to her mistress. Now that’s a show he wanted to see. 

End Notes: Here's a guessing question, what is the rectangular item with buttons Omega collected? all right answers get a flower 🌼

taglist: @kurlyfrii @orion-tyche @magicandmundane @biancadiangelosghost @sntofbirbs @half-truths-and-hyperbole-louk @fritoley @omegafett99 @bossboudicca @amalthiaph @ahsokashawarma1138 @dragonrider9905 @luzfeather @ladywren7 (let me know if you want to be tagged for future chapters!)

[eirenical]

Hey, MLCB fandom. We've been bombarded with some amazing photoshoots today, and I've been losing my entire mind over them all day, so GUESS WHAT. You all get to suffer with me.

For reference, the photoshoots and edits that inspired this post: [Cheng Yi in white] [BTS video of Cheng Yi in white, starring the photographer arm that sent this whole thing down a difanghua path instead of just a fanghua path] [@difeisheng 's edit/compilation of Cheng Yi and Zeng Shunxi's parallel photoshoots] [@la-muerta's edit of the photographer arm that made that vision a reality]

I don't have extensive context for all of this, but Di Feisheng, Fang Duobing, and Li LIanhua have gone to an event of some kind.  Maybe it's Di Feisheng' gallery opening.  Maybe it's Fang Duobing unveiling a new invention at a huge conference.  It doesn't matter.  What matters is that they all go, and they all have to get dressed up, and the event lasts all evening and long into the night and they don't make it home until well after dawn.

They get home and Fang Duobing has been in these clothes for far too long now and he desperately needs to get out of them and shower off the excitement of the night.  There's too much of a buzz under his skin and he's been talking everyone's ears off the entire ride home and he's losing patience with himself, so surely the others must be losing patience with him as well.  He needs a chance to let the buzz of energy die down a little bit before he irritates the others past the point of being able to deal with it, so he heads off to the giant bathroom to do just that.

Li Lianhua is quiet.  Mellow.  He didn't get drunk, per se, but he's somewhere in the slightly buzzed vicinity; enough that he's floppy and tired and half in love with the world and just wants to be petted and held, something he'd gotten plenty of on the drive home, but he still wants more.

(If pushed, he might admit that he doesn't handle crowds well, that he hasn't done since his days as a child prodigy fell far behind him.  Crowds do nothing but intimidate him now, bring back memories he'd rather leave far in the past, but he wants to support his partners, even if he has to blur the world a little to get through doing it.)

Di Feisheng has been rigidly well-behaved and contained all night and remains so even after they get home.  He has his own childhood traumas and handles crowds as well as Li Lianhua does.  He doesn't appreciate being touched by strangers, even accidentally, but crowds are a necessity in his line of work, sometimes, and there's nothing to be done for it. Now that he's home, he should be able to relax, but he can't.  He won't be able to until the hypervigilance fades.  So, he doesn't really want to be alone, but his choices… he could join Fang Duobing, let that inane chatter wash over him along with the water from a hot shower, to take the edge off his nerves.  But he doesn't want to be naked right now, doesn't want to be that vulnerable until his he's no longer twitching at every errant sound. So he stays with Li Lianhua.  To make sure he doesn't do something stupid while impaired.  It wouldn't be the first time.

But Li Lianhua is just... wandering around the room.  He's wandering around the room and slowly undoing the buttons at his cuffs… his neck… all the way down his chest to reveal the half-sheer singlet underneath.  He's wandering the room, undoing his clothes and gently touching things like it's the first time he's ever seen them, in spite of having lived in this room already for nearly three years.

And something about that soft wonder on his face relaxes something in Di Feisheng, finally releases him from the coil of tension he's been wound around all night.  So he does what he always does when a moment means something more than it should.  He pulls out his camera and begins taking pictures.

Li Lianhua notices, of course, and his gentle meanderings start to become a little bit of a performance.  Not a true dance, he hasn't done that in years, not since—  Di Feisheng cuts off the thought before he can dwell on it for too long.  They'd both lost too much in the accident that had ended Li Xiangyi's career and turned Di Feisheng into a fugitive for a decade.  Tonight isn't about them.  It isn't about that.  It was about their Xiaobao's accomplishments, about realizing the dream they'd helped him bring to fruition together.  And right now, it's about Li Lianhua, and a dance that isn't a dance.  Here in this room is the one place Li Lianhua allows a spectre of his former self to rise, allows himself to enjoy being noticed, being watched.  Because it's them.  Because he enjoys when the two of them watch him, focus on him, blocking out everything else but the safety of the space they've carved out here together.

And so, Di Feisheng takes picture after picture: Li Lianhua at the window, staring out into the garden, Li Lianhua in the hallway, hand settled gracefully on the railing as though at a barre, Li Lianhua in bed, rolling around and rumpling up the sheets, half asleep already the moment he's supine among the blankets and pillows. 

And he sends each one of those pictures to Fang Duobing.

Even Li Lianhua manages to take one very shaky selfie of himself sprawled in their bed, rumpled and bleary-eyed and barely awake.  Di Feisheng sends that one, too.

It isn't more than a minute later when Fang Duobing comes sprinting down the hall, clad in nothing but his boxers, wet hair half in his face, as droplets of water drip down his chest.  He's holding his phone in front of himself like a talisman, eyes narrowed accusingly at Di Feisheng.

Di Feisheng simply smiles and slides onto the bed to pull Li Lianhua into his arms for a kiss.  By the time it's over, Li Lianhua is draped half in his lap and whimpering, pulling at the sleeves of his shirt as he tries to peel it off and mold himself around Di Feisheng's body at the same time.

Di Feishing looks back up… and smiles wider.  "I didn't want to you miss the show."

Moments later, he has a armful of very wet Fang Doubing toppling them all over into the blankets.

It's undignified.  It's clumsy.  It's ridiculous in so many ways—more giggling fits of laughter than moans of pleasure.  And Di Feisheng wouldn't trade it for anything.

[milaisreading]

Isolation

Fandom: Hetalia

Characters: Y/n, Denmark. Mentions of Russia, Iceland, and Norway.

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Requests for Hetalia stories are open

🌍Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya🌍

Sometimes in the middle of the 19th century...

"(Y/n), this is getting ridiculous! You have been stuck in your room for the past 3 centuries! You need to start going outside and meeting new people." The northern country's boss, who was an elderly and exhausted man, said in exasperation. The man was meant with silence at first, but the said country opened the door just enough for the man to see half of her face.

"That's not true! I do go outside. Just yesterday I was in the garden!"

"You know that's not what I meant. I meant for you to go into the world again and make allies. You have been isolated for so long, and the neighboring countries would like to make proper trade deals again-"

"No! I am not going outside or meeting anyone!" (Y/n) yelled back, watching as the man facepalmed, trying to calm down. This was the 4th time they had the conversation this week.

"Please, nobody will hurt you. The countries are very nice and kind."

"What about that silver haired one?! You know the one with the creepy smile and kept telling me to 'become one with him?!" (Y/n) panicked as she remembered the man. The last time she saw Russia was exactly 300 years ago. He scared her enough to go into a complete shut down.

"I don't and can't risk it. Besides! Everything I need, I have here." The country tried to reason with her boss. The man was about to start lecturing her again, when an assistant of the country ran towards them, panicking ad he held a piece of paper.

"Miss (C/n)! We have got mail today! It says that a country will visit us tomorrow, they already set sails and everything!"

"What?!" The woman asked as she got out of her room.

"What do you mean? Give me that paper, please." The assistant handed her boss the paper and backed away a little as the duo read it.

'Dear (C/n),

my ship already set sail and we will be arriving at your place in about three days! I figured that this surprise visit will make it easier for us to reconnect! Haven't seen you for the past 300 years, my dude... Anyway, my greatness will bless your place very soon and we can work! Prepare some beer and food to celebrate this occasion.

Signed by the king of Northern Europe,

Denmark'

"King of Northern Europe?! I didn't know he raised to that status." (Y/n) muttered, vaguely remembering Denmark from her memory. She didn't realize she missed out on so much. Her boss glanced at her and then looked back at the assistant.

"Well then, prepare everything they need. We will host our guests witht he finest food we have."

"What?! Why?! Can't we tell them to leave?" (Y/n) protested as she watched the assistant leave, but shut up when she saw the man give her a strict look.

"(C/n), I know you don't like to hear it, but times are changing. Your isolation will not help you or your people in the long run. You will eventually need allies to trade with. Please just try opening up a little, if you really don't like it, you can reject Denmark as a possible ally. I won't force you to leave your room anymore." Surpringly, the man had a much softer voice now. (Y/n) looked at him for a moment, thinking over his words before slowly nodding her head.

"Alright..." The man's eyes widened in surprise and then smiled at her softly.

"Chin up, (C/n). Not everyone is Russia." He joked a little, patting her back a little.

"R-right..."

The next day (Y/n) woke up earlier than she was told. The night prior anxiety has haunted her over talking to another country again.

"It will be ok..." She muttered to herself while playing with the hem of her military uniform. The country was standing in front of her boss's desk as the man was sitting on his chair. The office was silent for a moment as (Y/n) looked away from the door and at her boss.

"You think they are late-"

"Woo-hoo! The king of Northern Europe is here to make the day better!!" (Y/n) and her boss flinched at the loudness as the door slammed open, revealing the Danish country. (Y/n) looked at the blonde man for a moment, surprised how he barged in.

'Right... he was always loud and brash. Surprisingly enough...he didn't change much physically.' (Y/n) thought, observing the grinning Dane. Same blonde hair, in the same style, same blue eyes, same loud personality, just that he is taller.

"(C/n)!!! I didn't see you in so long!! You got tall, but not as tall as me!!" The Dane yelled, pulling the girl into a hug. She was frozen for a moment, then turning red in embarrassment.

"What is wrong with you?! You can't hug people at random!" (Y/n) yelled as the Dane laughed.

"You are still as shy as you were- Ow!" Denmark stopped laughing and let the shorter country go as he felt someone hit his head. Looking back, the duo saw Denmark's boss glaring at the country before turning to look at (Y/n).

"I am very sorry about him. Thank you for hosting us even though we informed you late." The older man said apologetically as her boss chimed in. The duo watched the two men talk as (Y/n) sighed, already feeling drained from so many people. Denmark looked away from them and at her with a huge smile.

"Come on! I want to see what you do for fun around here." Denmark said while grabbing her hand before she could protest, dragging her out of the room.

"Your place is so much colder than mine! I am freezing my balls off." Denmark said, breaking the awkward silence. (Y/n) looked at him in confusion, ignoring the weirded out stares they were receiving from other people walking by.

"Denmark, you know I am located far more north than you, with a lot of snow. What did you expect?"

"I didn't expect it to be this cold!" The Dane pouted as he kept on hugging himself, causing (Y/n) to sigh in defeat.

"You are as much of an air head as you used to be back in the day." (Y/n) rolled her eyes as they walked down the road, the girl showing him different small shops where he could eat of buy clothes.

"No offense, (Y/n), but this is all kind of boring. Don't you have something cooler to show me?"

The girl held back another sigh as she looked at the blonde.

"We have restaurants, ice rinks, and playgrounds-"

"Do you have any placed that sell beer?" Denmark suddenly asked, looking at the girl with puppy eyes. She had to pause for a moment, the look was pretty cute on him.

'Same old Dane...' (Y/n) thought, a part of her happy he kept the same personality for so long. She then snapped herself back to reality, realizing the country was still waiting for an answer.

"What is that?" (Y/n) asked.l, never having heard of that one.

"You don't know what beer is?! It's just the most delicious drink in the world!" Denmark yelled, looking offended for a moment.

"Damn... you really did miss out on a lot. That's so sad." The blonde fake-sobbed as (Y/n) blinked for a moment.

"But, don't worry! Your good, old friend Denmark is here to introduce and teach you about the new things! I will even bring you books of my writers, you will love those stories they made. And we also can make some..." The country kept on rambling before (Y/n) cut him off.

"Wait, you will come back? How do you know I will let you come back? I have been isolated for 300 years by now, why would I change that?" (Y/n) challenged him. Denmark stopped talking and blinked at her, confused by all the questions.

"Of course I want to come back. You were one of closest friends back in the day, I missed you." The taller answered, surprising (Y/n) with how genuine he was.

"I was pretty bummed out when you left, and I want you to open up again. The world has now many new interesting countries to meet. They are not as interesting as me, of course, but I am sure you will like them."

(Y/n) kept silent as Denmark finished his speech, she really had nothing to tell him in return. Sure, her and Denamrk were close back then, but she never expected he would miss her. Much less admit it.

"You... you don't have to do it all at once, you can start off with just the northern parts of Europe. If you want, I can help you. I am pretty close with the guys now." Denmark said softly, offering her his hand.

"You are?"

"Yep! Especially with Norge and Iceland, they will appreciate the coldness here when they visit one day." The blonde joked, still holding out his hand.

"What do you say?"

(Y/n) kept quiet, still not comfortable with the idea of letting new people in.

'What if they will backstab me and vage a war. My military isn't as strong, and I have basically no experience in fighting.' (Y/n) gulped, looking up at Denmark now.

'But... Denmark always kept his promises to me, and my people might end up suffering in the future if I don't start doing something.'

Sighing, she nodded her head and put her hand in Denmark's.

"Fine. But don't leave me alone with them for now."

"Of course! You have a promise there!" The Dane grinned as the shook hands.

"By the way, you said I never changed? Did you think of me all this time?" The Dane teased her. (Y/n), oblivious to the teasing, nodded her head.

"Well, you were my closest friend back in the days. So of course I would think of you from time to time." She said flatly.

"Ah... You really did..." Denmark blushed at her words, a soft smile appearing on his face.

Days later, (Y/n) and her boss were at the port, watching the Danish ships sail away. Denmark was waving back at them as he yelled.

"I will be visiting you soon! I will bring Norge and Iceland with me next time!! And I will bring beer. There is no way to live without it-"

His boss bonked him on the head before he could finish his sentence. The older man was clearly embarrassed by his behavior.

"You agreed to meet 2 new countries?" Her boss asked her in surprise.

"Norway and Iceland aren't new to me... Denmark used to mention them a lot when we were younger." (Y/n) shrugged her shoulders, still keeping her eyes on the ship Denmark was on.

"And besides, you told me to open up more... Maybe it won't be so bad." (Y/n) said, not noticing the relieved smile on the man's face.

"Miss (C/n)! Mr. (B/n)! We got another letter!" The two looked at a man running their way.

"It's from Mr. Russia! He wants to visit us!"

As hee boss went to check on the letter, (Y/n) felt her soul leave her body.

'Why did I agree to this?'

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Gray 13

First / Previous / Next

Gord seemed to know exactly where to go. He led Fen around the promenade, past shops and what she could only assume were restaurants. The different lighting and coloration of everything due to the different breathing gas mixture gave everything an otherworldly look and made it hard for her brain to settle into a rhythm. Gord seemed to have no such trouble and strode along with long, confident steps.

"Gord, where are we going?" Fen worked hard to not have to jog to keep up and settled for kind of a fast striding walk, like someone who was concerned - but not worried - about missing their train.

"I have - had - a contact here. I think they can help us get some parts. Remember, the Innari use a reactor tech that's similar enough to humans that they did a tech transfer when we first had Contact."

Fen didn't remember, but she trusted Gord enough to not say anything else. They walked deeper into the strange station, and as they walked, there were fewer and fewer oxygen breathers around until they were the only suited individuals around. Fen noticed that people were watching them as they passed and tried not to meet their gazes, but Gord didn't seem to be bothered by it.

Eventually, they made it to a small shop in a back corner of some place deep in the station. Without Spyglass' help, Fen was sure she couldn't make it back on her own. There was a sign out front in the Innari's script and Spyglass helpfully overlaid the translation: "Uumar Pin, parts bought and sold."

Gord pushed the door open and strode in. The shop was... Fen could only describe it as run down. The counters had scratches and worn places from decades if not centuries of people leaning on it, the screens and pads all looked like they had been left running for longer than she has been alive, and the corners were piled with dusty boxes. Fen had a moment of surprise. Of course there would be dust. Just because they're not breathing oxygen does not mean that things would magically stay clean. Gord walked up to the counter and his helmet cleared. "Uumar? You in?"

"Yes, one moment please, Sapient." A musical voice rang out from behind a partition. There was a bustling as some tools were put down, and Uumar stepped out.

Like most Innari, Uumar was feathered. Almost like a cross between a bird and a human, they had this fluffy look about them. Their faces ended in a sharp beak and their feathers were iridescent. Fen wondered if Uumar would be heavy. She assumed they were probably very light. Without looking up they started to reply "Yes, what can I help-" They finally looked up at the two suited individuals. "Gord? Is that you Gord? I haven't seen you in-"

Gord held up a hand. "Yes, it's been a bit, hasn't it. How are you doing Uumar? Keeping busy?"

Uumar's feathers ruffled. Spyglass indicated to Fen that meant they chuckled. "That's one way of putting it yes. Ever since we did the technology transfer, our drives have been sought after by just about everyone in our sector. What in the name of the Watcher are you doing here Gord?"

"I need some reactors. I'm in a bit of a bind, but I- I found a Starjumper. Spyglass. Was sitting in a Gren station for a couple centuries languishing. That was the only way she had survived the Empire. In the intervening years she had lost all her printable mass and all but two reactors. I managed to get one reactor going, but she needs six to be at full power. I'm printing parts, but replacing the reactors will take more than that. I'm hoping you can help me out."

Uumar ruffled their feathers again and crossed their arms - a very human gesture - "Gord, you don't do anything by half measures do you? I want to manage expectations. There's no way I can sell you four reactors, even if you had the Stars, which I assume you don't. I could probably sell you one and enough parts to make your broken one working. That would get you up to three and you could wheel and deal for the other three down the line. Three would get you powered up enough?"

Fen watched Gord. He made a big show of hemming and hawing, looking around, looking unsure. While he did this he sent an icon over to Fen's readout of a cartoon version of his face, winking. "Yeah, I think I could make that work Uumar. How much would I have to put down in order to secure the reactor, and how long would it take to install?"

Uumar blinked. Spyglass indicated that his body language indicated surprise. "Uh, If you gave me one thousand Stars and four day cycles, I could get you a reactor and install it. Balance of another thousand stars due upon completion."

Now it was Gord's turn to be surprised. "You have a human compatible reactor in stock?"

Uumar's feathered arms flapped once "Mostly. It's a core return for an upgrade to a Uumari transport, but it just needs an overhaul. A few fresh parts - one day cycle's work - and it would be ready to go."

Gord smiled broadly. "That's better than I had hoped. Fen, please pay them."

They both turned to face Fen, and she squeaked. "What?"

Gord shrugged. "You're the one with the money. You did take Tam'itarr's money right?"

She had taken it, both hers and Ma-ren's share. It had wound up being almost exactly two thousand Stars.

"Gord, can I talk to you for a moment?" Fen clicked her radio over to the suit-to-suit channel. "What are you doing?" She hissed.

"Getting us a reactor Fen. One isn't enough. Uumar here has a whole other reactor that they're willing to sell us plus parts to make our broken one work. We'll go from one to three. Three means we get our Stardrive, the wormhole generator and the weapons. Three is far better than I anticipated. I assumed we were going to be able to just buy parts for our broken reactor and have to use up all our printable mass building a reactor from scratch. We need this Fen. Tam'itarr was going to kill you and take the money back, what are you going to spend it on?"

On the one hand, Gord was right. Fen hadn't given any thought to the money after she grabbed it. On the other hand, she hadn't even really begun to mourn Ma-ren's death and now Gord was demanding he spend their - her - money on his starship. On the third hand, if they didn't get Spyglass fixed they'd be stuck here for who knows how long. Two thousand Stars was more money that Fen had seen all her life, but what was she going to do with it? All Fen wanted was some time to mourn and think and she wasn't going to get that if they were stuck here.

Sighing heavily, Fen touched her pad and cast the deposit to Uumar's device. "Received." He chirped. "We'll have the reactor refreshed and sent down to the docks first thing tomorrow."

"Wonderful!" Gord clapped Fen on her back. "Come on Fen, let's see what this place has to offer oxy breathers like us, and we'll head back to Spyglass and await the installation."

Fen and Gord said their goodbyes and walked out. As they walked, Gord clicked the suit-to-suit. "Thanks Fen. I appreciate it. I know I sprung it on you, but spending that money on Spyglass was the only way we were going to get out of there."

"I wish you had told me ahead of time what was going on, Gord."

"I hadn't planned on it Fen, but when Uumar said they had a whole reactor almost ready to go, I had to jump on it."

Fen didn't say anything as they made their way back up to the rest of the station.

[thisstormbringsstrangeloyalties]

The Dark Defender - A Dexter Fanfiction (Part 1/6)

Read this story on Ao3

Next part

Story Summary: Meg Winters has a perfectly normal life and a wonderfully perfect boyfriend. Until she stumbles across a perfectly dark secret… and now her very life is in danger. No, not from the Bay Harbor Butcher whose waterlogged body of work has just been uncovered. But from something much closer… Desperate for help, Meg reaches out to a new hero in town, The Dark Defender, dealer of deadly vigilante dirty work. However, once Meg puts out a plea to The Defender, she must deal with the consequences, both bad AND good.

Author’s note: I wrote this story out of frustration with how I thought the Dark Defender from season 2 was SUCH a cool idea. I felt the fact that the Bay Harbor Butcher only killed other killers was something everyone just kind of slept on? It was only mentioned in passing a few times by civilians and only spurred one really shitty copycat. Personally, I think someone with such a strong moral code and harsh form of punishment would have developed SOME sort of cult following. And the Dark Defender would have been a good jumping off point for that. It would have been so cool for Dexter to have his darkest secrets revealed, only to turn around and discover that a huge group of people are ROOTING for him and that they think he’s actually doing the right thing. Definitely something I think he’s always craved, but never expected to find. Ugh. Okay. Enough rambling. Onto the story.

Wordcount: 2,189

* * * * * * * * * *

Meg Winters had a perfectly normal life and a wonderfully perfect boyfriend. She had been dating Zach O’Connell for nearly a year now, and they lived together in a small cottage in Miami.

The past year had felt like a dream to Meg. She worked in a bookstore. Zach worked in a retirement home, caring for others just as he cared for her. But it had been at the bookstore where they’d met. He’d come in looking for something to read, and she’d helped him find what he was looking for. And then he’d come back. He’d come back again and again. He had insisted it was for the books. “Your recommendations never miss,” he had insisted. “I can never put them down.” But it was never books they’d talked about.

Zach seemed to Get Meg in a way no one else ever had. He shared nearly all her interests, turned up whenever she needed him most, and somehow always knew what to say. When he’d asked for her number, she’d given it readily. When he’d asked her out, she couldn’t say “yes” fast enough. Things moved quickly then. Within weeks, they had A Song, they had A Spot, and then they were looking at A Place. Before they had even reached their half-year anniversary, they had moved in together.

There was tragedy, of course. Not long after they had settled into their new home, Meg’s best friend, Stephanie, had gotten into a terrible accident. Struck by a car while she was out running in the early hours of the morning. The driver had never been found, and the paramedics had said Stephanie was lucky to still be alive. Well, almost alive. Stephanie was in a coma, and no one knew when, or if, she would ever wake up.

The accident had very nearly destroyed Meg. Stephanie had been her closest friend since childhood. They’d done everything together. Meg couldn’t imagine a world without her.

The only thing that had kept Meg from falling apart completely was Zach. For some reason, he and Stephanie had never really gotten along, but after the accident, he’d pushed all that aside for Meg. He’d held her through every sob that wracked Meg’s body. He’d stayed up with her during every sleepless night. And he’d gone with her to every bedside visit in Stephanie’s hospital room. He’d even taken turns with Meg, reading all of Stephanie’s favorite books aloud. The doctors had said it was possible she could still hear them and that speaking to Stephanie might help guide her back to consciousness.

The ordeal was more painful than anything Meg had ever been through, and consequently, it had brought her and Zach together in a way she had never experienced with anyone before. They hadn’t even known each other for a year, and yet it felt like they had been together for a lifetime.

Meg really thought she had found The One. She was prepared to spend the rest of her life with him. They were perfect for each other. They could weather any storm together. Nothing could possibly tear them apart.

Or at least that’s what Meg had thought.

Until she found the box.

Living in Miami meant living with constant heat. And living in constant heat meant that any fault in the house’s air conditioning was a problem to be addressed immediately.

She had work off that day while Zach, on the other hand, had a full day at the retirement home, and though she wasn’t needed at the bookstore, she couldn’t stop herself from curling up in bed with her nose in a book. She was so absorbed in her reading that she didn’t notice how unusually warm the room was until a drop of sweat rolled down her nose and landed in the middle of the page.

She blinked, staring at the small soaked spot in confusion. Then she looked up. For the first time in at least an hour, she took stock of her surroundings. Everything seemed normal except for the uncomfortably stuffy temperature. Meg strained her ears and picked up the telltale hum of the air conditioning unit. Well, that was odd.

She marked her place in her book before closing it and getting out of bed. She wandered over to the bedroom vent, tucked almost under the bed itself, and put her hand over the grate. A measly stream of cool air poured out. She frowned. Was something blocking it?

She bent closer and peered through the grate. In what little light penetrated the vent, she thought she could see the silhouette of something in there.

She slipped her fingernails under the edge of the grate and worked to pry it free. Soon enough, she had loosened it enough to jam her fingertips underneath and pull it completely off. She set the grate aside and plunged one hand into the vent. She was half a forearm deep when her fingers brushed against something smooth and angular. She froze, grabbed ahold of it, and pulled.

She sat back at she looked at the small box in her hands. It was plain and made of finished wood. Her heart pounded as she hesitated at the latch. She felt like she had just stumbled across something she wasn’t meant to view.

Finally, steeling herself, she flipped up the latch and opened the box.

Her stomach sank at the sight that greeted her. Sitting on top was a bra. One of her bras. Her nose crinkling in distaste, she pulled it out and set it aside only to uncover more of her things beneath. Socks, underwear, a diary she had kept in high school, a diary she had kept in middle school. There were CD’s Stephanie had burned for her, old postcards addressed to her, even a USB drive she recognized as her own from her college days. She felt like she was going to be sick.

This was Zach’s box. It had to be Zach’s box. In fact, some sixth sense told her it was undoubtedly his. But why? They lived together, there was no need to keep a stash of her things, especially things this… personal. Why this invasion of privacy?

But still, something deep inside told her Zach had started this collection long before they’d started living together. It felt like some strange profile he’d put together, something to understand her.

She thought about how Zach had sometimes seemed to know her better than she knew herself, and pieces of a puzzle she didn’t even know existed started clicking into place.

She kept digging.

At the very bottom corner of the box, tucked away like they were the most secret thing of all, were what appeared to be… clumps of hair. Meg’s stomach turned as she pulled one out and examined it. It was short, brown, and bound by a thin rubber band. She set it aside and began pulling out more clumps, each tied together with another rubber band. As she pulled them out, a sense of unease began to weigh more and more heavily in her gut. There was something about the samples of hair that felt almost sacred, like there was a sense of pride behind each one. They almost felt like— like… Meg stuttered mentally over the word that rose so damningly in her mind.

They almost felt like trophies.

She pulled out another clump of hair and came to a halt. For the first time, the hair she held looked familiar to her. She sat unmoving, staring at it, willing herself to remember where she had seen it before. Then it came to her.

David.

David was one of the bookstore’s regular customers. Or at least he had been. He was a tall, handsome fellow with bright green eyes and ridiculously curly, pale blond locks. She’d recognize them anywhere. She’d spent plenty of time staring at them whenever David came into the store and leaned uncomfortably far over her counter, chatting about increasingly personal subjects with her. Every once in awhile, he’d gain enough nerve to ask her out. She’d politely turned him down each time, but David seemed to be under the impression that she’d change her mind if he just wore her down a bit more.

Once Zach had started coming into the store, he and David had encountered each other only a few times. Zach would walk in to find David bent over Meg’s counter like a vulture. Then he’d look at Meg and Meg would give him a “please help me” look, to which Zach had always obliged with gusto. Without a moment’s hesitation, Zach would barge into the conversation, leaving no room for David’s unwanted advances. After a few minutes of quiet frustration, David would give up on his pursuit for the day and leave in a huff.

After this had happened a couple times, David had stopped coming to the bookstore entirely. Meg assumed that, with Zach in the picture, David had finally accepted defeat. She couldn’t say she missed him or his patronage. But now, as she turned the curly bundle of pale blond hair in her grasp, she began to doubt it was as simple as that. A cold dread began to creep up her spine as his disappearance suddenly felt a lot more nefarious.

Her skin prickling with revulsion, she dropped the bundle of hair into the discard pile and picked up the next one in the box. She froze as it came into sight. The cold dread rose into a white hot rage.

She did not need to think about where she had seen this hair before. She recognized it immediately, knew it as if it were her own. The chestnut brown with the red highlights. It was Stephanie’s.

Meg’s hands shook. Her vision turned scarlet. She wanted to scream. She wanted to tear something apart.

Zach. This was all Zach. Zach had done this. He had never really liked Stephanie. Of course, he had done this. He had been the one to hit Stephanie with his car. He had been the one to put her in this awful coma. This was a fact that Meg now knew in her very soul.

She wanted to fling the box away. Destroy it and everything inside. She wanted to run all the way to Zach’s place of work and beat him with her fists until there was nothing left.

But Meg did neither of these things. Instead, she reverently set Stephanie’s hair down next to David’s and reached for the box of horrors once more. There was still more inside and she knew she had to see this through until the end.

There were only two clumps of hair left, both blond and both similar enough to Meg’s own hair color and texture that, for a brief moment of terror, she thought they belonged to her. But then, no, they were most definitely not hers. That one was too dark and the other one was too curly. Unlike the other samples of hair, these two were not held together with a rubber band. Instead, they had each been tied up with a beautiful bow of ribbon, one a deep, midnight blue and the other a sleek, crimson red.

Meg stared at them, trying to figure them out. There was something special about these two samples, that much was clear. But what?

Once more, she felt the pieces of this new puzzle clicking together, and that’s when she knew.

Zach had mentioned before that he’d been in previous relationships. In fact, he’d been in two rather serious ones, but whenever Meg had asked about his exes, he’d clammed up. All she knew about them was that things had been perfect… until they weren’t.

“They just changed,” he’d told her simply. “And I knew that we’d never be able to work things out.”

And that was that.

Meg had tried not to pry. Zach had always been so quiet about his past, and she had never pushed him to say more than he was comfortable with. From what little she’d heard, it didn’t seem like the kind of stuff someone would want to relive. But now she wished she hadn’t been so understanding. She wished she had squeezed every last detail out of him.

She looked down at the hair in her hands again. This was all that remained of those two mysterious exes now, she was certain of it. And as she had this thought, another certainty settled over her, one that made her head spin and her stomach twist into knots.

She was next.

Meg sat unmoving for a long while, clutching the remains of her predecessors. Then, like a switch, she came back to life. Mechanically, she began putting everything back in the box, taking extra care to arrange it just as she had found it. She closed it, latched it tight, and slid it back into the open vent. She took time to make sure the box was positioned so the air flow was unblocked, then she replaced the grate, climbed back into bed, and pretended the whole thing had never happened.

Next part

[sunflowersoldat]

All is Fair~ Dead-ends & Devotion

Chapter 26: Dead-ends and Devotions

Main Master List

Series Master List

Series Summary: Family is important, but so is the Family business. Everyone has secrets, some are deadly. Your the best in the business, but no one knows who you are. Tensions are high, will you raise the stakes or fold under the pressure?

Series Warning: 18+! Mentions of blood and violence, bad language words, smut, manipulation, gaslighting, death, trauma, please follow the warnings for each chapter.

Chapter warnings: 18+ Only! Major Character Deaths! Violence, Bad language words, mentions of torture, existential/identity crisis.

Pairing: Mob!Steve x Assassin!Stark!reader

Word count: 3K

A/N: Its been a while since I posted for this story, sorry March is kinda a shitty month for me, and I had to make sure this was perfect before posting it! Including this chapter there are only one and a half chapters left! I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Numb.

That wasn’t quite the word Steve would use for how he felt right now. Broken, dismal maybe. Incomplete.

Lost.

In all his years, he’d never seen anything like this, never heard of anything remotely close to this happening in the past. His mind was muddled, foggy, he could barely focus as he, Zemo, Sharron and Natasha, made their way into the main lobby of Stark Tower. 

He was merely going through the motions, there were so many voices and people, he had half the sense to order Sam and Ronin, who had only just arrived, to slip Conquest, whose name they’d learned was Fandral, out the doors and into their vehicle. They would deal with him, on their terms.

He scanned the lobby, catching Tony’s wife, Pepper and one of their men as they received the news. It was truly heartbreaking, she clung to the gurney, the man gently pulling her away, trying to comfort her.

All this chaos, all the death, for what? A goddamn title? Power? He shook his head, there was no amount of power worth all of this.

Scanning the lobby again, his eyes caught a familiar head of white hair dashing out the side door, it had to have been you. He bolted after you, if he could just talk to you, maybe he could convince you to let them handle it; at the very least allow them to help you.

Shoving his way through the crowd and onto the busy sidewalk, he caught another glimpse of your hair in the sea of people, keeping it in his sights, he pushed farther, a paramedic shoved into him, spinning off track, but Steve shoved forward. When he made it to the spot you had been in, you were gone. He cursed, not a single trace of you was left behind. The crowd of people jostled him as he tore his hand through his hair, stepping forward— a scraping crunch met his ears, he jumped back, looking down.

On the ground, covered in blood spatter, a familiar skeletal mask lay broken. He knelt to pick up the pieces, fingers brushing lightly over the white surface, the curves and edges that mimicked bones.

He had to stop you, at least try to reason with you. Reaching for his phone, he dialed you, silently praying you’d pick up on the other end, then, just maybe he could save you.

But as the line rang… 

And rang…

And rang, the hope he held onto disintegrated.

Finally the line died, a deafening silence settled in his heart.

A bone deep chill shuddered through him.

—

Steve leaned back in the hospital recliner, his eyes heavy as he watched over Bucky in the hospital bed, he lay sleeping, his shoulder wrapped in bandages. He had almost lost his best friend, all because he couldn’t see the damn answer staring him in the face. Too much bloodshed, too much death.

The door squeaked open as Steve scrubbed his hands over his face, looking up. Queens hobbled through the door, a bandage wrapped around his thigh, he propped himself against the wall taking a deep breath. He looked like hell, “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” 

Queens shrugged, screwing his lips to the side, “Got restless, besides Wade finally left my side.” He smiles softly, “It wasn’t by choice though, his boss pulled him away, otherwise I think he’d still be attached to my hip.”

Steve huffs a laugh, “How’d he find you?”

Queens gave him a sad smile, “Ace, she had found me before…”

Steve nods knowingly. Of course, you cared for Queens like he was your own blood, it only made sense for you to send someone you trusted to take care of him.

“She’s something else…” Queens pauses as Steve meets his gaze, “I mean… Have you ever seen her in action? I don’t even know how to explain it, it's…”

“Mesmerizing?” Steve offers. “Yeah, I’ve sparred with her, she’s… something else.”

Queens nods, a silence settles, after a moment, he breaks the silence again “Have you heard anything?” He asks tentatively.

Steve drops his gaze shaking his head, “No. She’s disappeared, without a trace.”

Queens sighs limping towards Steve, pulling something out of his pocket, he reaches out, placing the small box into Steve’s hand. The black velvet soft in his rough hands, he already knows what it is. Steve inhales deeply, “Thought I lost it…”

Queens gives him a sad smile, “I found it in your penthouse office, buried in rubble… Were you really gonna ask her?”

Steve works his jaw, his chest constricting uncomfortably as he stares at the tiny box, he doesn’t have the heart to open it and look at the ring; what he could have had.

What he will never have.

Bucky coughs, moving to sit-up in the bed, his face screwed up, “Ya never asked her, Punk?”

Steve turns to him, shaking his head, “Never had the chance…”

Bucky reaches for it, plucking it from Steve’s grip, “Don’t worry pal, you’ll get to ask her.”

“I doubt that, she’s gone Buck, even Zemo can’t find her—”

“Steve.” Bucky cuts him off. He turns again, Bucky is staring into the box wide-eyed.

“What is it, Buck?”

Bucky’s eyes flicker between him and Queens, turning the box so he and Queens can see it. Bucky’s voice shakes, “It’s gone.”

—

Your breaths were sharp and ragged as you stumbled through the safe house door, your hand holding your side, desperate to keep your blood inside your body. Thor’s men had been waiting for you, they weren’t his usual help, these men were trained, lethal. Heimdal, the only commander he had left, knew you were coming, they put up a valiant fight, in the end it didn’t matter only one survived. But you had let your guard down, let your anger and emotions get in your head, now you suffered the consequences. 

Settling on the couch, you began the dirty work of patching yourself, the vodka next to you only dulled the pain, clouding your mind. Groaning, you poured the little amount left onto your side. You hissed, teeth clenched from the sting of the alcohol.

A throat cleared in the darkness of your ramshackle safe house, slowly you reach for your pistol, aiming into the darkness, your hand slightly shaking. A chuckle floated in the air,

“Come now Peladora, we both know you’re a shitty shot after you drink.”

Jake.

“I still coulda hit ya, wouldn’t kill ya, but it’d hurt like ’ell.” You relax, placing the gun back where you’d retrieved it. You continue patching yourself as Jake makes his way toward you, kneeling by your side.

A small smile curves his lips, “We have to stop meeting like this Peladora.” Batting your hands away, he takes over patching your wound. 

Wincing you lean back so he can assist you better, “How’d you find me?”

He sighs deeply, eyes lifting to meet yours, “I’m always there when you need me.”

“You won't stop me.”

He can see the determination in your eyes, the wildfire burning bright, “I don’t intend to try. Didn’t try to stop you when we began this journey, why would I now?”

You shrug, breaking eye contact, “Do you regret it?”

His brows raise, “Saving you?”

If he didn’t have a needle in your side you would’ve punched him, you roll your eyes, “No…”

He nods knowingly, “But, I think about it sometimes… What you would have become if I refused to train you.” He cuts the stitching, pulling your shirt down to cover you, “I don’t think it would have prevented anything. I think though you have become something you despise, it was necessary.” His hand brushes your hair from your face, “Do I regret what you have lost? Yes, but the losses would have been far greater without you. Sometimes we must become the villain to do the things that are against the heroes’ code”

“One good deed is not enough to forgive my lifetime of bloodshed. Have you seen the paper? They’ve pinned the blame for everything on the Ace of Spades.”

“Did you expect anything different? Is it not better to have blood spilt from those who desire to harm the innocent than for the innocent to bleed for nothing? Thor would have slaughtered everyone, without you. Zemo’s family, your family, Steve and his men… and anyone else who tried to stand in his way. Besides, did you really think Thor would take the blame?”

It hurts, the truth, the undeniability of the monster you’ve become. You knew deep down a normal life was no longer in the cards for you, but it cut deep nonetheless. You’d known someone would have to be the scapegoat, you figured it would have been Loki, but it only made sense to blame the one who no longer exists. You purse your lips, “Tony’s Death was my own fault, and my family is still dead. Loki didn’t deserve his fate, neither did Peggy, or Tony, or my parents.”

Jake sighs, sitting next to you on the couch, situating you to where your feet are propped on his legs, he nods slowly, “Power can be dangerous, it turns even the best people into rabid dogs. Many lost their lives, most of them didn’t deserve it, but you know better than I, no one's hands are clean in this business. But your niece and sister-in-law will live full lives, without fear of Thor and his men.” he pauses to take a deep breath, his hand patting your ankle, “Peladora, you cannot blame yourself for what happened, you didn’t know how it would end. Even if you did, would you change it? If you could trade Steve’s life for your brother’s, would you?”

You snort, burying his questions. Truth be told, you don’t know if you could make that decision. To choose your brother over Steve, or Steve over your brother. It wasn’t a choice that day, but instinct. You sigh, now wasn’t the time to wallow in self pity or mourn, there was work to be done. “Thor is still alive.”

He turns to you, eyes hard, jaw muscles working, “For now. I have a feeling that will change…” he merely lifts a brow at you, “After all he has no one else to hide behind, his commanders are dead, Heimdall was his last defense.”

You hum and slowly rise to your feet, heading into your makeshift room, Jake follows, watching as you repack your bag, pulling out your clothes and weapons.

He turns to leave, but stops, snapping his fingers, “Oh, I almost forgot” —he pulls a small pouch from his pocket— “Wade wanted me to give this to you, says not to open it until you're done.”

He tosses the pouch to you, catching it, you scowl, “What is it?”

He merely shrugs, “Probably some weird ass good luck charm, you know how Wade is.”

You nod, putting it into your pocket. 

“Was it worth it?” –Jake gives a pointed look to your side- “Did he give Thor up?”

You shake your head, “No, but I have my own ways of finding him.” You pull paperwork from your bag, a list of property and other holdings under Loki’s name. Thor wasn’t dumb enough to use his own property as a hiding place.

He frowns, raising his brow, “I don’t have to tell you he’s dangerous, Peladora.”

“I know.”

“This could be our final goodbye.”

You stop packing, swallow thickly and drop your gaze, “It could be, it could not be… but when I get pulled into the depths of hell, I’m taking him with me.”

—

It had been over a week since Ace had gone missing, the underground uncharacteristically quiet on the topic, Bucky felt bad for Steve.

It was almost like you had died again, but Steve was better at hiding his feelings this time, but Bucky knew better. He stared at Steve from the passenger’s seat, “How you doin pal?”

Steve side-eyed him from the driver’s seat, “Fine, Buck. Why?”

He pursed his lips, glancing back at Peter in the back seat, raising a brow. Peter rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Riiighhhtt… how are you really?”

Bucky watches Steve’s jaw work as he chews his lip, “It sucks. It’s almost worse than when I thought she was dead…” his knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel, “At least dead, I knew for sure. But now I don’t know if she’s alive or bleeding out somewhere…”

Bucky swallows, twisting his mouth to the side, “You know, I never did apologize to you, Punk…” he sighs as Steve eyes him, “I’m sure she told you her side, how awful I was… But—“

Steve shakes his head, “Don’t worry about it Buck, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“But you see, it matters to me. I know everyone thinks I just had a hard-on to kill her, like I was just set on not letting her get away…” he pauses, clenching his shaking fist, “Look, it may have started out like that, it hurt, she betrayed all of us that night we caught her, more so you, but it hurt nonetheless.”

Steve slows the car, parking it at one of their warehouses. Shutting off the ignition, he turns in his seat towards Bucky, he can feel the weight of his stare going in the side of his head. Behind them, he can feel Peter waiting to rebuttal. Bucky didn’t hate you, he hated what you stood for. What you had done. What you were willing to do.

Taking a deep breath he continued, “That night I followed her, picked her up at some gas station… I didn’t intend to kill her.” His heart is roaring in his ears, his palms are slick with sweat, he isn’t sure Steve believes him, but it's the truth. “I had every intention to scare her off, get her to leave, not only you, but the city. Then she opened her damn mouth and I… I—”

He closed his eyes, shoving at the memory as it surfaced in his mind; you sitting bloody and broken in front of him. He could lie and say there was no fear in your eyes, but if he was honest with himself, he saw it. He saw the lie in your eyes, the false bravado you paraded in front of him. When you realized you had pushed him too far, “She threatened you again… Promised to make you beg for her to kill you. Swore she would make me watch…” he looked to Steve, expecting him to be angry, but he wasn’t. Steve was staring at him in understanding, sorrow swimming in his eyes. Bucky clenched his jaw again, “I promise, never, not even once did she lead me to believe she loved you… if… if she had, I wouldn’t have—“

He breaks off as the memory of you clawing at the dock skitters across his mind. He knew he had gone too far when he had gotten home, he could feel the guilt and remorse eating away at him. But he had to tell himself it was to keep Steve safe, for his own sanity.

Steve’s hand grasped his shoulder, “I understand, Buck. I know her tactics, the way her brain works… That's how I know I’ll never see her again. The look in her eye when she left to chase Thor, it was a goodbye.” Steve sighs deeply, “Whatever was simmering in her veins beneath the surface, whatever was caged and locked away, held at bay by those four little words. It’s out now, and it's after Thor. She’s not the woman we knew, she’s something else entirely. Something dark and dangerous and it's out for blood.”

—

Peter walked with Steve and Bucky deep in the warehouse, where they were keeping Fandrel or Conquest is what the underground calls him. Ronin had his turn, so did Sam, trying to get Thor’s location and allies from him. So far nothing has worked, and their list of possible leads keeps getting shorter. 

Ace has been cutting through the list of Thor’s people too fast for them to keep up, they have been three steps behind her this entire time. They had found Heimdal and all his security dead last night, and then today multiple buildings on the outskirts of the city were burned down. They need to find Thor or you quick, if they didn’t, Peter feared they would lose you for good.

They came to a stop, whimpers and cursing could be heard on the other side of the door, muffled by the thick metal. Steve took a deep breath, nodding towards the door for Bucky, “Do what you do best Buck, we need that information, now.”

Bucky nods, Peter moves to join him, but Bucky stops him, “Queens. Sit this one out, let me handle this.”

Peter scowls, “What? I can do this Bucky, let me help, I wanna find Ace too.”

Bucky shakes his head, “Not for this kid. I need you out here. This fucker and his friends were the ones who attacked you, I wasn’t able to protect you then, lemme make it up to you now.” Bucky’s eyes met his, his blue eyes so full of pain and anger, he was doing this for him. 

Peter nodded slowly, he understood, he said a silent prayer when the door closed, please, just let us find her…

—

Weeks of recon, months. 

You finally had the bastard, there was nowhere else for him to go.

As you stared into the mirror, the eyes that stared back weren’t ones you recognized. A fire burned so deep and hot within them, you thought they would scorch you with a single glance. You knew it was yourself staring back at you, but you couldn’t recognize yourself and what you had become. 

No mask or contacts this time to hide behind. You wanted Thor to look you in the eye when he took his final breath, to understand and feel what you felt. 

You could almost taste the freedom on your tongue, only hours away.

Only two things left to do.

Kill Thor.

Lose yourself.

—

Finally, finally, they found you, if they beat you they could accomplish two things–

Kill Thor.

Save you.

@dontbescaredtosingalong @texan-tazzy @tianamontag @daiseychaindisaster @silently-killing-you @buckyfan12 @leyannrae @justlovelifeblog @austynparksandpizza @capson-of-coul @betareader7 @vicmc624 @bigphattygyal @calwitch @buckysteveloki-me @curlyladylazarus111 @talesofadragon @trudy-shams

[every1sno1fangirl]

Happy Hifuumo Friday everyone!

I'm sorry this is late by a day. The week has been kind of rough on me once again. Nothing in particular happened after the party (Which was fantastic and I'd rather talk about that) but depression is what it is.

It was really nice getting to see people I have been missing for what has to be half a decade now? Not one of them had seen me since I transitioned, since they live pretty far away. This party especially is one I have been missing since the last time I was there.

My uncle's ranch is a place that I associated with some really good memories. Ones with my dad in them. I haven't heard much from that side of the family for that reason in fact; Their relationships were with him, less so than with me and my mom.

And I know it's been painful for them to reach out and try to talk to her. Even if they were very happy to see us (Many of them remarked that they had never seen me as happy as I am now, which was really nice)

But another uncle of mine has been the only one to really do so.

My feelings about him are complicated. He was a 'bad man' for many years. He's also the only person who really reaches out to my mom and talked to her.

And he's changed a lot. So much I can't believe it.

He apologized to me about the things he had done and he's a totally different person now. The first thing he did when he saw me was give me a family heirloom that he had held onto for 34 years because he didn't know anyone else better to give it to.

It's a very nice necklace. I won't be sharing pictures of it here, but it was something he got for his mother before she had died and she gave it back to him. It's just a gold 'P' with a star on it. My deadname was borrowed from hers, my name still has the 'P' initial.

It was a very sweet gift. It's sitting in its old box on my desk right now. Being at a party like this, even if it was in a familiar place, was a lot. Being able to sit there with my uncle for hours and talk and make plans (We'll go to the zoo) really helped keep me.

Honestly, I didn't intend for this post to be so solemn on what was a very happy occasion, but it was something that couldn't leave my mind nonetheless, both during the party and after as I've typed away at this for the past few days.

I've always been depressed, it's been more of a struggle to deal with it recently. Probably because It's coming up 6 years now of him being gone from my life when the 29th rolls around. (So...a week from now. Sorry if I don't do anything next week)

It's just hard to ignore. It's messing with my mindset and how I handle things.

I had a good time. I'll be having even more of one next month. I should worry about that instead of brooding, shouldn't I?

I love you all, I hope you have a good day/night!

[johnnylandslide]

Day 3: Tempest

The Rising Stones looked like it had been hit by a tornado. Actually, given Johnny’s family, a tornado might have been letting it off easy.

“Tataru, I’m really sorry about all this, I’m not sure how they found out-“

“Found out WHAT, my boy?! That you’re gonna be hopping off to the other side of the soddin’ world, and weren’t planning on telling us as much until you were already out of reach? That you weren’t even planning on PACKING properly??”

He found himself instinctively channeling aether to his shoulders to mitigate the hearty slap his dad administered. His apology seemed to have drawn the ire of several of his siblings as well.

“Johnny loves to hop around without telling us. He loves to run away!” Kenny complained.

“I bet he doesn’t even tell Taru!” Kelly said, pointing a finger in accusation.

Johnny looked to his wife with a pleading expression on his face, and Tataru luckily did her best to defuse the situation, reaching up and patting Johnny’s youngest sister on her shoulder. “He does tell me where he’s going, you don’t have to worry-“

“Then why doesn’t he tell ME?” she exclaimed, bursting into tears.

A moment later she was scooped up by their mother, the ten-year-old girl held in her strong arms just as easily as when she was half that age. “There there… Johnny has to go to all sorts of places for his job. If he called you every day to tell you where he went, you’d probably get bored!”

That part was certainly true. The past moon had been nothing but back and forth between Mor Dhona, Sharlayan, and Thavnair. If it spared him all this though, Johnny was starting to consider daily linkpearl calls as a legitimate option.

“This also isn’t even close to the furthest away I’ve been! It’s just across one ocean,” Johnny said.

Another hand on his back, this time on his left shoulder. “You’re not really helping your case,” said Jackie, the other younger sister. “None of us can just cross an ocean on a whim.”

“I won’t be gone too long,” he bargained. “And I can visit!”

“You’d better, kid,” said his father. “Or we’ll be crossin’ the sea after you!”

“We want visits every week, on Sunday. I asked G’raha the other day if they have aetherytes in Tural, and he said they do, so I’ll be expecting you to put all that aether your father and I gave you to good use!” demanded his mother.

“…Could it just be every other week? I’m going to be really busy…” Johnny protested. Several of his family members crossed their arms, and Kelly glared at him from over their mother’s shoulder, but after a moment of deliberation, they accepted.

“It’s a deal! Now Tataru, dear, what kinds of outfits are you sending him off with? I’ve heard that Tural has a wide variety of climates, and I just want to make sure my boy is well-prepared…”

Tataru’s eyes went wide as Johnny’s tempest of a family suddenly turned their attention on her, and Johnny frantically moved in to assist. As he stepped over to her she raised her hands, and in a motion almost instinctive to both of them, he pulled her up into his arms, holding her defensively.

“I think we already have that part covered! She made a very nice cape for me, and I have the winter coat still, so there’s no need for everyone to pester her about it. We appreciate the concern, everybody!” he said.

“Yes, much appreciated, but we do have it all well in hand,” Tataru said. “The new cape should be suited for all but the very harshest Tural can throw at him, and that’s a guarantee!”

There was a pause as they all considered whether the explanation was enough to satisfy them.

“…Taru made a new cape?”

Johnny and Tataru made eye contact and sighed.

“I WANNA SEE!”

[ugh-yoongi]

Hi Jewel.

I don’t want to overburden you in your grieving process, so feel free to ignore this message completely. I lost my cat today and I need a little space to talk about it. My friends and family, while supportive, are a little too much for me to handle right now.

My cat, was not even 9 years old. His ninth birthday would be in October. He was with me for 7 years. He passed away last night and I only found him today. I was getting ready for work and just found him, in his little cat house. I tried waking him up up and when he didn’t respond, I just grabbed him and in that moment I knew, I knew he passed away, but adrenaline and shock just fueled me. I took him to the vet. They told me he had no heartbeat when I brought him. I can’t believe he’s no longer here. He was my first cat too - and I’m trying to keep it together, but I’m just so broken. Could I have done more? He had asthma. What if he had an attack while I was asleep and died by himself, and I just did not hear him?

I thought we’d have more time together. Now I’m just… broken. With his cathouse, and treats, and food, and medication.

I’m sorry. I feel for you. I’ve lost pets in the past, who all crossed over peacefully. One would think it would be easier to deal with the emptiness with time, but it’s not. I’m sending you a big hug.

hi friend, i am going to respond to you under a cut because i am sure i will ramble.

so much of what you've written here resonates. my cat, linus, would've been 13 in october as well, and he also had asthma. diagnosed when he was a year and a half. i always thought any time i had with him was a gift, because it was "borrowed." but it still wasn't enough.

i'm so sorry for your loss. i wish i knew what to say to make it hurt less. all i can offer you is empathy and a space to talk about your friend if you would like to do so.

it really is just... so hard. especially when they pass so suddenly. like, i knew linus was not doing well, especially in the last year or so—his asthma became unmanageable and we were out of options—but thursday night he was fine. all last week he brought us toys and yelled at us for food and slept with us and it didn't feel like "his time" yet. i thought i'd know.

there's just a hole, which i'm sure you know. i held it together pretty well for the rest of the day on friday and then lost it while vacuuming on saturday because i didn't want to vacuum up the last of his fur and not know it. i lost it yesterday because one of my other cats brought us a toy but they didn't make the silly sounds linus used to make when he did the same thing. i lost it last night when it was bedtime and the cats came into the bedroom but i didn't hear linus's toenails on the hardwood specifically.

but it's so, so important to remember that we've done the best we can with what we were given. asthmatic cats are so hard, and i can guarantee your friend lived his absolute best life with you. just from what you've written to me, i know he was so loved, and i know he loved you just as much in return.

thank you for telling me about him. one thing that has brought me so much comfort the last few days is just... other people having known him? having met him? he was my whole world, so just the fact that he existed outside of me and my home... i don't know. he was just the best, and it's been so lovely for everyone to have their own silly little linus stories or even laugh at his funny body proportions. so i hope sharing a little about him with me helps you, too.

i don't know what happens after we leave this world, but i do truly believe we see our friends again. i know i love that cat too much for this to have been a permanent goodbye. i will wish the same for you.

please feel free to come back whenever you need to. <3

[meggie-stardust]

20 Questions for fic Writers!

Tagging myself via @lucky-bishop because I'm half bored, half a bit loopy on benadryl... And same suggestion; if anyone else wants to do this, say I tagged you <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 73?! Wow that surprised me.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 403,636

3. What fandoms do you write for? These days, mostly Teen Wolf, but I've written a lot for Merlin, Percy Jackson, BBC Sherlock, Gundam Wing, and assorted others over the years.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 1. Acts of Man (Merlin/Arthur, Merlin): On the morning of their Annual pre-Christmas Dinner, Merlin is shocked to find out that Gwen thinks his boyfriend, Arthur, isn't good enough. But after a glimpse into Merlin's quirky flat, Gwen realizes that she might not have the whole story. 2. Nightmares (Jason/Percy, PJO): Percy feels lost and alone after returning from Tarartus. And if that's not bad enough, he can't sleep without having horrifying nightmares. Luckily for Percy, Jason is the one person not avoiding him, and the one person that has offered to help. 3. Looking for the Thing We Lost (Stiles/Peter, Teen Wolf): But the thing is that Stiles had already been forgotten by everyone. 4. Here I Am (Stuck in the Middle With You) (Jason/Percy, PJO): Percy and Jason's mission gets derailed when they find themselves trapped in a room with no way out. Luckily, they find a way to pass the time… 5. Know How A Man Becomes a Beast (Stiles/Peter, Teen Wolf): Peter took a steadying breath and stepped into room. He held up his hands and walked forward slowly, the way he would approach any wild animal. “Stiles. It’s gonna be ok.”

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes, I try to, even it take a while -- at least on my newer fics. I haven't gone back to things from like 10 years ago to reply to old comments that I missed, but I try to keep up. I want people to know I appreciate the time they've taken to read and react to my fic, and you never know if you're going to connect with someone new and make a new fandom friend.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Give Me Pure Energy (Stiles/Peter): the alternative season 2 where Stiles craves some normalcy and befriends a new kid in his econ class, only to realize that maybe they both want more from each other than just a simple friendship. This is a super darkfic anyway, and has the kind of ending that's happy only if you're ok with all the awful things that Peter does during the fic... but generally, I like my angst with a happy ending so this is the best I can do.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Oh gosh, so many of my fics have happy endings... that's how I like em... uhhh. I'm going to go with one of my all time favorites:

Stuck Between Stations (Stiles/Peter): the one where Peter and Stiles are stuck in a time-loop inside The Wild Hunt.

8. Do you get hate on fics? I have been so lucky to not get much hate. If people are talking about my work behind my back, it's not getting back to me. And aside from an odd comment or two, I've gotten through about 20 years of fandom without having to deal with random hate.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? yes. I've written m/m, m/f, f/f, and, I think an m/m/f once... but I'm into all sorts of things and have fun writing about it

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I have in the past; a Harry Potter/BBC Sherlock x-over that got abandoned. I've also done a few prompt challenges that lead to crossovers/fusions like SPN meets MJN Air, etc.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? god, I hope not!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes, I have been so lucky to have a few of my fics translated into different languages. It's always such an honor, and I give full permission for people to translate my work as long as they connect it back to mine on AO3.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I have but it's been ages. And I think there may be someone *cough*@punchedbymarkesmith*cough* that would be great to collaborate with if an opportunity presented itself...

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Steter it would seem. I've been reading and writing it since 2016...!

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I fully intend to finish It's Only Forever, but I've used some of the ideas for it in other things, so I know it will be hard to get back into where I was going with it. I don't want to abandon it, but it's been a few years... le sigh.

16. What are your writing strengths? I think I'm pretty good with dialogue, especially banter. I think I'm also great at taking a small detail from canon and using that to world build something different.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Oh, that's easy: action and mystery. I really wish I could write a good casefic or mystery plot, and I just can't. I have to distract and misdirect at the end... I have to do the same with the action, too.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I don't trust myself. I might confer with someone who speaks that language if it was really needed, but I would probably do something like:

"Wow, I can't believe you survived that helicopter crash," he said in Spanish.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Gundam Wing, followed my Newsies and Harry Potter.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? I already gave a call out to Stuck Between Stations above, so I'm going to have to go with:

At This Truth We Have Arrived (Stiles/Peter): Five years after the death of Laura, Peter returns to Beacon Hills only to be confronted by the truth that the pack has moved on without him. But the fact that everything he once knew has changed isn't necessarily a bad thing; not when there is someone like Stiles who is so full of possibilities.

OR as my WIP notes for this fic say: "Peter is curious. They do something. Murder murder. Sex sex."