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gaoau · 5 months

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Inside Out

The Lucky Cig Is Yours warnings — none. word count — 4.0k

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With the unsurprising fall of Moebius, Hanma drags [Name] towards his brand new gang. Pristine white jackets and a headless angel, holding their fancy little meetings in an abandoned arcade that reeks of tobacco even for someone who smokes regularly. He doesn't bother keeping Kisaki a secret; he knows [Name] cares too little to interfere in his fun. Any new development the mastermind makes reaches her ears without fault. It doesn't make up for the fact he refuses to pay her back for getting her yukata ruined in the rain when he didn't even need her to run away.

He forces her to idly sit in a corner while he riles up his lackeys. She watches without minding it all too much, fixing the edges of her red lipstick—as long as she can witness this disaster through, from beginning to end, she shrugs her shoulders at being treated like a ragdoll. Hanma attempts to land a frighteningly speedy punch when she asks if Kazutora is single. By the time she finds out he is, she's too busy cringing at the newest addition to Valhalla beating his friend black and blue. So much for loyalty.

For whatever obsessive reason [Name] didn't pay attention to, Kisaki wants to go up against Toman again. Hanma follows behind like a street dog. When she questions his motives, he states not to have any opinion on the subject, it's just fun. He leads another army of headless chickens to fight a losing battle against the Invincible Mikey and his formidable gang. She has to admit it's undeniably fun, even if she doesn't want to share views with someone like Hanma. She knows he doesn't have long left.

It's a bloodfest on the afternoon of Halloween. Hanma drags her along and settles her on a heap of trash, not before throwing an unsuccessful kick towards her ribcage. She's not the only spectator of the shitshow that's about to go down; important delinquent influences gather around and she's absolutely horrified as the Haitani brothers show up a few meters away from her. It's nonetheless fascinating to be able to entertain herself with the way the unhinged Shinigami gets decimated on the battlefield. Monkeys, literal monkeys.

When she witnesses Kazutora stabbing a fellow member—gasping dramatically to herself in utter shock—she's glad she didn't end up asking for his number. She can't help but wonder if this is all it takes to bring Hanma down once and for all.

Her phone vibrating in her skirt pocket disturbs her fun. It's her captain. "Yeah?" she answers the call.

"[Name], where are you? You flaked on us again." How can she explain? She leaves the war cries of middle schoolers to saturate her microphone. A second later, her captain responds, "Oh. You busy, then?"

"Not really," [Name] hums, "just watching Valhalla lose against Toman, why?"

"We got business with the rumors about Rasumi-chan."

"Confirmed?"

"Yeah."

She sighs, "I'll be there in a few." The call ends with a click as she rises to her feet. Her eyes scan over the hundreds of boys staining the dirt with their blood. Hanma is keeping himself busy with welcoming punches from Toman's vice-commander. The outcome of this battle is more than clear. He doesn't catch her sneaking away from the brawl because Mikey sinks him into the ground with one kick. Hopefully, this is not the end of his performance.

From the corner of her eye, [Name] catches a black sleeve aiming for her back. Her friends snicker off to the side as she dodges the concerningly speedy fist nearing her. She glares at the giggling girls to quiet them down. Standing before her is Hanma in the Toman uniform, bragging his position as 6th Division Captain. He must be having so much fun changing outfits every other day. It was genuinely no surprise to her when he invited her to a Toman meeting, where he would announce the fall of Valhalla under Mikey.

She sneers in his face at the injuries that have yet to heal. It's her first time seeing him after watching him get punted into the ground. The memory amuses her greatly. "Hanma, sad to see you're still kicking." Her words become quite literal when he swings his leg towards her torso. [Name] chuckles as she springs out of reach, guiding him away from the crowd of girls. "Mikey-kun got you good, how's that bruise holding up?"

The expression on his face is unreadable to her. "Thanks for caring about me, darling, it's disgusting when you do." She shrugs at his words, giving him a playful roll of her eyes. She'll never care about him and they both know it. The subject fizzles out as Hanma peers curiously at the excited crowd of long skirts gathered in a circle. "What's going on here?" he asks when he catches sight of a girl kneeling on the dirt. His brows rise when he realizes she's tied up.

[Name] leads him back to her spot among all her fellow gang members. One of her friends, Haneka, steps forward, holding a burning cigarette in her hand. [Name] explains, "Rasumi's getting lynched, boss' orders."

Hanma stares as Haneka presses the cigarette beneath Rasumi's chin. She screams in pain at the scorching feeling of forming blisters. It's another addition to the countless of circular burns littering her skin, from her torso to her arms to her legs. Patches of flesh pink and sickening yellow soil her entire body—and there's more to come. Her tears sting against the injuries on her neck.

"You guys lynch your own members?" he questions with a jeering tone, turning up the incredulous act an unnecessary amount. Chuckles escape him when he meets [Name]'s narrowed eyes. He slides his last cigarette from his box, motioning her to light it for him. She threatens to burn his fingers and he laughs again, "Women are brutal."

"You're one to talk," [Name] scoffs, pocketing her lighter. She doesn't make mention of his last cig being upside-down in his empty box. She doesn't want to think he's picking habits from her and vice versa. "Rasumi was disloyal, stole Momo's boyfriend. We have a code to follow."

His whistling stabs her ears. "Scary. Cigarette burns from you all 'cause she stole a guy."

"And that's the nicest of our punishments—oh, I'm up." Her fingers dart towards his mouth, not with enough speed that he can't react, but he chooses to see what her plan is. She hates touching him in any way, shape, or form, so this is a first for her. His lucky cigarette disappears from between his lips. "I'll be borrowing that." [Name] offers him a revoltingly sweet smile that doesn't suit her blood red lipstick at all. It's nauseating.

"That's my lucky cig, dear."

"Guess we're even now, dear."

It's nauseating. It's repulsive but he can't pry his eyes off her anyway, finding pure entertainment in the way she keeps him on his toes. [Name] strides up to the kneeling girl and cares little about her tear-stained pleas for mercy—[Name], [Name], please! [Name], we're friends, please, please, don't! I'm sorry, just plea—as she slams her foot on her chest. Rasumi falls to her back, leaving her legs on display. [Name] lifts her ripped skirt to press Hanma's cigarette against her inner thigh. Hollered cheers drown out the sound of Rasumi's blood-curdling screams. It's so much fun.

She scrunches her face in distaste at the familiar number displaying on her screen, making her phone vibrate in her hand. She's memorized it by now because she never bothered to save it under a contact name. [Name] squints out the window of her room and sighs exhausted at the sight of Hanma in the middle of the street. Please, let him get run over by a truck.

Without more than a complaining grumble, she throws on a coat and a scarf to head out into the Christmas snow. She shivers at the freezing wind slapping against her cheeks until they turn a soft shade of red. Hanma greets her with that disturbing grin of an unhinged maniac, and couples it with aggression. A left kick to her torso has her hopping away like a frightened cat, but he goes in for a right hook that grazes her temple. The snow seeps through her clothes as she bends down on one knee to duck away from his punches.

It's so fucking cold, she wouldn't hesitate to stab him with her bare hands and be free. "Hanma, I'm begging you, I'm so tired."

It only encourages him further. His right foot darts up to her face as his cackles resonate in the night. [Name] wishes she'd worn gloves when she pushes herself off the ground and rolls away. Hanma keeps on laughing insanely, "It's Christmas, [Name]! Let's have some fun!" His arms extend to the side as if he were expecting the Christmas spirit to embrace him. He begins strolling away, leaving her to choose whether she'll head back in or follow him.

It's amusing to hear her footsteps catching up to him. She breathes out a sigh, manifesting into lead rather than mist in the cold, but still matches his speed as she walks beside him. He wordlessly offers her his box of cigarettes. A frown settles on her brows when she catches a glimpse of a lucky one. She ignores it, instead asking, "Why d'you look like you got hit by a bus? It's Christmas, dude." She doesn't trust him to near a lighter so close to her face, but he cares little about her comfort.

He's lighting his own cigarette as he chuckles, "Chifuyu sure put up quite a fight."

The name rings a bell. "You were in-fighting?" she babbles almost incredulously. It's Hanma, what else did she expect?

"We were fucking Hanagaki over." [Name] can almost see those mocking hearts around each of his mocking words. "He's probably getting killed by Black Dragon as we speak."

Laughter bubbles from her chest at the thought. She's seen Takemichi fight before, and he's no match for Shiba Taiju. "That'd be fun to watch." Not to instigate so she can keep her hands clean, but to sit back and enjoy like it was a movie. Another drag from her cigarette drifts away with the biting breeze as they reach a bridge. She hangs her arms over the railing, pondering. "I got it. I'm in love with your bullshit," she announces, snapping her fingers in revelation. He instigates for her entertainment.

"Oh?" Hanma exclaims with too much enthusiasm. His face is too close for comfort. "Is that a confession I hear? I knew it'd be a matter of time before you fell for my charms." Maniacal cackles echo through the sky. His palm barely brushes her shoulder when she flinches away on instinct. "Sorry, dear, I'm not in—"

A choking gag interrupts him. [Name] either pretends or actually throws up a little in her mouth. It's amusing anyway. "Disgusting, shut up. I know I couldn't ever be in love with you, you delusional madman." Another gag manages to keep her kick from upper-cutting his jaw. "It's just that you're so full of shit that you're somehow worse than me. I love that. I feel good about myself compared to the shitshow you are."

A defeated sigh pierces her ears. Sighs shouldn't be that harsh. "And here I thought I finally had you wrapped around my finger," Hanma laments, mockingly.

She holds back from vomiting over the railing. "You wish." Another reflex gag. "In your fucking dreams, you deranged psycopath."

"Maybe." His one-word statement shoots shivers down her spine. His fingers are grasping her chin before she can react. Always successfully dodging his hits makes her forget how quick Hanma actually is—how terrifying. "Wonder if there's any way to make you fall under me. It'd be entertaining to have you do everything for me, darling, from when I wake up to when I fall asleep." She can hear the genuine conviction in his tone; he's thought this over a couple times. It's not a joke, he's just that far gone. It's horrifying.

"Go back to sucking Kisaki's dick if you're that bored," [Name] snarls, her colorless lips curling in disgust, as if she weren't shaking in her boots. She tears herself away from his hold and buries her chin in her scarf. She'll have a breakdown in the shower when she gets home.

Hanma is uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. When she looks into his eyes, he blinks back at her. Then a taunting smirk grows on his face. "Jealous?"

She contemplates asking who she could possibly be jealous of, but that's like throwing gasoline into a raging bonfire. "Merry Christmas, Hanma." Her cigarette bounces off his white boot when she flicks it towards him. It dies pathetically on the snow. She turns on her heels, wanting nothing more than to scrub the feeling of his fingers and his words off her memory.

"Merry Christmas, darling," Hanma whispers mockingly in her ear. She needs to get away from him as fast as possible. It's impossible when he walks silently beside her until they reach her home.

It's a fascinating Toman meeting when Kisaki gets fired, and of course, like a lovesick puppy, Hanma follows behind with his 6th Division. He announces his exit from the gang, inevitably dragging [Name] along. She'd been enjoying the Toman atmosphere, but she still wants to bear witness to Hanma's fall when it happens. She wants no part in it, just to watch. She heads home, chuckling to herself at the way things are playing out. He goes on to the next gang.

They meet again when he offers to pick her up on his bike. In her mind, it sounds like he's planning to crash into her as soon as he sees her. He's donning a blood red uniform to match her lipstick while she wears the same long skirt since their first fight. It's a Tenjiku meeting, she finds out, Kisaki's own doing. She has to hand it to him that Kisaki is fairly smart.

She'd never been to a Moebius meeting, but Valhalla meetings had been entertaining and Toman meetings had been a breath of fresh air. She can't say the same for Tenjiku, probably because they are all over the place and out of control. The only reason she sticks around is because she's waiting for the fun to happen, and Hanma always delivers. It's the one thing that is consistent about him.

[Name] curses her lungs out as she ducks beneath Hanma's arm, cartwheeling on the dirt and away from him. Her feet stomp heavily on the ground when she straightens up. "I guess you're consistent there, too." Her mumble disappears among his obstreperous cackles and the ocean of laughter surrounding her. Teenagers in red coats find amusement in their little show. She really doesn't want a fight against three hundred neanderthals, but she's so close to throwing punches.

"I'm out of cigs, dear."

And now he's asking for cigarettes like she's his personal vending machine. It's most likely the boredom irritating her to no end; she'll break her own word and sink Hanma into the ground Mikey-style if he so much as looks her in the eye one more time. She can't be bothered. Her box of tobacco flies through the air and lands in his open palm. "Take it all, I don't care."

He peers inside to check how much he's winning. "Five? Oh, a lucky one. I'll save that one, that one's yours." Nothing in his voice sounds mocking. He's not making fun of her. He will save her lucky cig.

It's horrifying. "Hanma, I really don't care. Just take it, I'll buy more later."

"The lucky cig belongs to the owner. If it's yours, it's yours, darling." Laughter follows that putrid pet name he's gotten too comfortable with. It rings in her ears too loudly. It's always too much with him.

She's watching from a distance, she's paying attention. She sees four of her cigarettes disappear at the hands of the Shinigami and two other Tenjiku members. He has no qualms about sharing tobacco he didn't pay for. Then a hand reaches for the last, lucky cigarette. Hanma flips a switch before she can blink all the way from her seat. He grasps the boy's wrist with enough strength to snap his bones.

[Name] simply hates this. His words reach her even if they're standing away from each other. "You can't have that," he growls, menacing chuckles making his sentence bounce. It's not funny.

"C'mon, man, it's the last one. You still got half a cig burning there."

The boy winces at the pain in his wrist when Hanma tightens his grip. "I said you can't have that, asshole. It's [Name]'s, so keep your grubby hands off it, fucker." She hates it, she hates it so much. It makes her shudder to even think they could possibly be friends at this point. Her head almost pounds.

They all glance at her in unison. It burns. The boy scoffs, "She's not even smoking, dude. C'mon."

That last C'mon is all Hanma needs to completely lose it. A wide grin stretches across his lips as he grabs his fellow Tenjiku member in a chokehold. He really enjoys in-fighting, apparently. Enthusiastic cackles flood over his mouth like the foam of a rabid animal. [Name] can't handle this anymore. She strides over calmly, pretending her world isn't spinning nauseatingly. The boy is almost blue as he wears Hanma's arm for a necklace by the time she reaches them.

Hanma smirks at her while letting go of his victim. Her lucky cigarette is safe and sound in the box between his fingers. "He's right," she starts unexpectedly. His face almost falls. "I'm not even smoking, let the kid have it."

He presents the upside-down filter to her. "The lucky cig should be yours, [Name], dear." It's not a statement or an opinion—it's a threat.

An exhausted sigh rips from the back of her throat and she snatches the cigarette from his hand. The boy he'd been choking shakily lights it in her mouth at Hanma's orders. [Name] takes one single drag that she challengingly blows into Hanma's face. Before he can sneer at her, she shoves the lipstick-stained filter between the traumatized boy's lips.

Her tongue pokes out to taunt Hanma's deadpan gaze. "Gimme the box, I'll go throw it away." He chucks the empty box in her face, which she catches with ease. It gives way under the weight of her palm. "I'm going home."

Hanma's glare scorches her skin when she turns on her heels to escape the idea of friendship. It's revolting, it's genuinely revolting to think he was saving her last cigarette out of the little goodness in his heart. [Name] shivers even if she's not feeling cold. He grumbles beside her, matching the rhythm of her steps until she's safe in the confines of her room.

[Name] sees and knows everything. All of Kisaki's plans reach her ears and she watches it all go down with amusement. She's standing by when the mastermind bashes Emma's skull in with a baseball bat. She's off to the side as Toman wins against Tenjiku. She's quite impressed when Hanma sneaks away from her to save Kisaki after he shot two people to death. It's always so entertaining to watch the infamous Shinigami in all of his shenanigans. That rush of adrenaline he so desperately craves is source to all the fun [Name] can witness.

By the time she reaches him on foot, Kisaki is a mangled mess of bones and blood in the middle of the street. She has to halt a few meters away from where Hanma is standing over Kisaki's corpse; she blinks and squints and tries to process what she's seeing. The pathetic tears streaming down his face are enough for [Name] to understand this is the end of their road. Her expression flattens completely as she realizes Hanma has finally crashed and burned. He's got nothing else going for him.

Her hands fit snugly in the pockets of her skirt while she leisurely approaches the crying maniac. He whips towards her with wide eyes. His tears are almost endless. An amused smirk crawls its way onto her red lips when she chuckles, "You look like shit, my guy." And although she's laughing at his shameless display of weakness, Hanma only stares at her blurry image. It's unnerving. Some sense of sympathy makes her sigh, "You'll get arrested for helping kill those guys, y'know? Better book it, dude."

His brain is slow to process anything. He chuckles bitterly, wiping his eyes clean to pretend he hadn't been crying over somebody's death. "Thought I said it's disgusting when you care about me, darling." The L doesn't sound as clear as it tends to.

"Hey, I'm just being sensible." She shrugs away the urge to be nice. She can't believe she's feeling sorry for him. "You don't want your fun to end here, right?"

"What about you, dear? I'm your fun!" His arms extend outwards as he stares up at the sky. Then his crazed gaze locks with [Name]'s. "Let's run, you and me, fugitives! It'll be thrilling, don't you think?!" It's so saddening to see the rims of his eyes a bright red.

She gags, "Gross. I'm done with you, Shuuji-kun. My hands are clean; I didn't kill anyone."

He doesn't like the sound of his name on her tongue. "So what? Afraid you won't survive on the run? Scared of a little adrenaline?" Little, he taunts, like that same adrenaline isn't what brought him to his knees. Like that same adrenaline isn't the only reason the two of them stick around one another. Like that same adrenaline isn't her drive to avoid all his hits.

But when he swings, when he aims a right hook, when his fist flies straight towards her cheek, [Name] doesn't dodge. His knuckles slam against her face, her head whipping to the side upon impact. A smudge of red lipstick stains his tattoo and it sure feels like a punishment to have landed that punch.

She would laugh at his perplexed blinking if she wasn't actually feeling pity. "Ouch," she hisses in a low whisper, holding her assaulted cheek gently with her hand. Her eyes find his.

"You're shitting me."

But she merely shrugs. It stings so bad, her eyes are almost watering. "You got boring, Hanma—"

"Then fight back!"

Her head shakes. "Good luck with running away. Let's never meet again." [Name] hesitates for only a second. A sigh flutters from her lips as she gives in to her sympathy, throwing her package of cigarettes towards his chest. Hanma catches it and glares at the upside-down filter mocking him. When she begins walking out of sight to head home, he doesn't follow her.

note — a little context, maybe. japanese girl gangs were a thing. women would protect women and such. theyd wear long skirts against the patriarchy sexualizing them with short skirt uniforms. theyd hide razorblades and shit in their breasts. theyd actually lynch other members if they did drugs or stole boyfriends. mc wears lipstick because i needed to give her a distinguishable feature yknow also, the lucky cigarette thing. pilots during the second world war didnt last long, so theyd flip one cigarette upside down and smoke the rest first. if they got to smoke the one upside, they lasted longer than average and therefore were quite lucky

—あごす (agosu) • 2021

#the lucky cig is yours #tokyo revengers #tokrev #hanma shuji #hanma shuji x reader #hanma x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader

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