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mci-writing · 2 years ago

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Warmth (Midoriya Izuku x Reader)

Warnings: Obsessiveness (near the end), implied major character death, reanimated corpse (it’s Deku), necromancy, Deku is the equivalent of Frankenstein’s monster kinda, a little ooc, mentions of pain, descriptions of skin burning (not exactly but yeah idk how to explain it)

Kofi

Viridian irises glance over the form laid before them, a longing sigh passing through chapped lips and landing on deaf ears. Fingers, cold to the touch and tinted blue from lack of flowing blood and oxygen, slide across the small expanse of exposed (s/t) skin, the thumb stopping just under a closed left eye and softly, lovingly, tenderly rubbing the area. It leaves the warmest goosebumps, so warm it should ache, dulling once the contact is distanced.

Whispers of ‘patience’ sound through the air, chilling down to the bone and causing him to pull away out of instinct. The reactions of those around him tell him that they aren’t really there, but he can’t help his response after being told such for so long. For so achingly long.

“Deku-kun,” He feels himself straighten at the voice beside him, a hand setting itself at the small of his back. The thumb rubs small, circles in an attempt to soothe his worrying, “If you keep tugging at your lip like that, you’ll rip it off.”

He becomes self-aware of his habit after his companion points it out, cheeks warming as he quickly lets it go. He wets his lips with his tongue after, teeth grazing over the bottom one as they pop out. He’s unable to stop the awkward chuckle that follows or the way his eyes flit from those around him to the body on the table.

“I’m sure (L/n)-San wouldn’t mind reattaching it once they wake, Uraraka-San,” Todoroki stands near the door, his eyes never straining from beyond the frame as he speaks to them. It’s hard to miss his tense demeanor from where they’re placed, one of his fangs pointing past his lips.

Izuku feels himself sweat at that, a wobbly smile forming on his face as he brings his full attention back to the other members of their group. The best he can manage out is a small “T-Thanks, Todoroki-San” as his hand connects with (Y/n)’s and laces his fingers through theirs.

Silence fills the room again after that. Midoriya can hear his heart racing and feel (Y/n)’s faint pulse. They pump in tandem together, like always. Yet, it does nothing to ease his fears. He knows that spell they cast was powerful, but they’ve been out for a few days now. The only reassurances he’s received of them still being alive was the small noises they’d make as they rested, the way their hand tightly holds his each time he holds it, and the addictive burn he receives with each touch to their skin.

The book of necromancy did say that some spells would be harder to cast for users with less experience, but Midoriya didn’t realize that translated to needing to rest for so long to regain the little strength of power (Y/n) knew how to use. He would’ve tried harder to suggest something else for their escape.

“Oi, Deku!” The rough voice of his childhood friend wakes him from his thoughts, his thumb and forefinger making themselves known on his lips as they tightly squeeze from the small jump he makes. He’s being side-eyed by shades of crimson, but not many would catch the soft worry behind them, “Me n Shitty Hair’s got the ship waiting at the dock. Cargo truck’s outside.”

Emerald eyes meet the fiery shades, an understanding spoken between them that only their little bubble could process. Without a beat, Bakugou comes forward and lifts the end of the slab they're laying across and Todoroki is quick to grab the other end. They load it into the cargo truck's trunk, careful to ensure they're strapped down in the back before Todoroki hops out. Midoriya watches on, eyes longing for the warmth he’s just lost.

~~~~~

The car only holds four people, debatably three if you wanted to argue whether or not Midoriya could still be counted as human in his current form. He was undead, that much he could confirm from the way his body had been stitched together and the ice cold feeling of his skin when he wasn’t within a certain proximity of (Y/n). He was something like Frankenstein, but the context seemed less science fiction and more fantasy. He had no clue why he had been brought back to life, just that he had been. (Y/n) and Kacchan always avoided the question when he’d ask how he’d died.

That’s another thing, it’s always the three of them. Even now, only Kacchan and (Y/n) were going to board the boat with him. Kirishima was only here to take them there and back.

His gaze pans away from the passing scenery outside to the body pressed against his. His cheeks warm as bright a red as they possibly can at the proximity, yet he can’t force himself to move away from the burning sensation of their skin touching. It hurts in the nicest way possible, making him feel way more alive than he thought possible. It’s why he thought he had just woken from a long sleep instead of immediately thinking he’d come back to life, the warmth too comforting for him to question anything at the time. Both of his companions joked about it being out of character for him.

He takes in the low rise of their chest and the serene look of their face. It’s one of the very few times he hasn’t seen them worried out of their mind since being brought back to life. He’s tried not to keep count of their smiles, one of his favorite aspects about them. If with their lips held in a neutral shape, he’s fighting the urge to kiss them until they swell.

He feels himself warm more at the repeated thought of laying a kiss on their unconscious form. He should be ashamed, but he’s been wanting to be intimate with them for a while now. It’s gotten so bad he gets a little jealous when he catches them and Kacchan away from him, whispering between themselves in a bubble of their own that he feels he won’t fit in.

That thought sours his feelings a little, especially when he knows he could never take them from Kacchan and he could never take Kacchan from them. The idea of them moving forward without him, leaving him out, and further pushing him away from the picture he'd perfectly fit in before his current state, gives him a deep pit feeling in his chest that he doesn't enjoy dwelling on for too long.

But right here… Right now…? He could just give them a quick peck and pretend it didn’t happen. No one would know… Unless they woke up from it or something…

He weighs his options, emerald eyes measuring and tracing the outlines of your lips. He has vivid memories of the one time he managed to get a kiss from them, in the dead of night when the only witnesses aside from themselves were the twinkling constellations. He doesn't remember how long ago it was, but he can perfectly picture the sight of them shyly smiling, their face warm, and (e/c) eyes dilated like a super moon. Their lips fit perfectly against his, slated and locked like they were meant to be attached for eternity, and delectably soft like fresh baked goods straight from the oven. He'd press his lips against them as much as he possibly could, suffocate against them even.

The cons would be them waking and beating the shit out of him... Or Kacchan catching him and beating the shit out of him...

Midoriya leans forward, hand burning as he cups their cheek. He rubs his thumb against their skin as his lips finally meet theirs again. It feels like home, his lips feverishly sucking against the plump flesh like he'll never be able to do so again.

He pulls away once he realizes he's being too greedy, too desperate. He sucks in a deep breath, the butterflies rising to his chest as his heart pounds against his ribcage. He can feel the warm honeydew in his cheeks, worsening when his eyes dart up and meet a certain pair of crimson ones. They stare at one another for a moment, but Midoriya can't read what Bakugou is thinking at all. Bakugou sends him a small smile, or something close to it. His lips quirk upward on one side before he turns back to the road. Kirishima is talking about something, but he's obviously not paying attention.

"'Zuku?" The soft call of his name has him looking down, meeting the dazed stare of (Y/n). They're still relatively exhausted from their overuse of magic, a bit of light missing from their pupils. They press their cheek into his hand, the bags under their eyes heavy, "Are we... heading there?"

"We're going to the dock right now, (Y/n). Kacchan's in the front seat and Kirishima's driving us there," Midoriya informs them, voice low as to not cause them any discomfort. He knows they typically suffer from headaches after too much use of their necromancy abilities, "I'm sure you should be able to rest a bit longer-"

"No, no," They begin to sit up, getting a grip on his shoulder and using it to push themselves up. They let go and force themselves to sit up on their knees, getting in a position where they can easily look out the window, "I have to check that... we're not... Not being..."

Their voice trails off as they grab their head, another splintering headache racking their body from the sudden movement. Midoriya is quick to grab hold of them, leaning their body against his. Gravity lays them back across his lap, their face pressing into the fabric of his shirt while they close their eyes. Out of instinct, he presses his fingers against the nape of their neck, slowly sliding them upwards to press at various spots in the back of their head.

"No one's following us, (Y/n). We made sure of that..." He murmurs, pushing their hair out of their eyes. His hand eases down the side of their face, fingers hooking under their chin and pushing it up so they can see him better, "Get your rest."

"Izuku...," They stare at him for a moment, different emotions flashing through their (e/c) eyes. One of their hands reaches up for his cheek, the flesh feeling as if it'll catch on fire at any moment. They pull away too quickly for his liking, the same stricken look reaching their eyes like every other time they touch him and they're reminded of their afflictions. He's heard them apologize to him in the late hours before.

With little thought, he grabs their hand and presses it back to his flesh. He feels just a little closer to being human again at the touch. He nuzzles into their hold, keeping eye contact with them and watching the confliction beyond their irises. He doesn't care about the way his body screams to flinch away from the heat, pressing more into it as opposed to as opposed to running from it. He tightens his hold when he feels them try to tug away from him.

“Izuku, stop. You’re hurting yourself-,”

"No, it's okay," He responds too quickly, leaning into their touch. He presses his ear to their chest, listening to the steady beating of their heart and the movement of their breathing in their chest. The heat isn't as excruciating, simmering to an addictive warmth adjacent to bodies entangled in a hug. It crawls over his skin and wraps around him like a blanket, "Everything is okay..."

He never wants to leave from (Y/n)'s hold, (Y/n)'s warmth, ever again. He doesn't know how he could ever live without it, especially not now when the cold is even colder than before...

#midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku #this is based on a Horikoshi sketch from a year or so ago and a WEBTOON I was obsessed with at the time #there’s some Bakugou x reader and bakudeku x reader if you squint #original draft had them very poly coded and it might still be there whoops #also slight Yandere!Deku at the end whoops #erm here’s your Halloween special for the year 👉🏾👈🏾#I will hopefully be back shortly with another piece ✌🏾#I mean it bc I have a few requests I actually like that I’m working on and a big fic that’s been years in the making #the big fic probs won’t get any notes tho 🫣#tumblr did not like this one 😭😭😭 she wouldn’t save it was crazy #thought my thing was too long but it’s only 4 pages on Google docs so #shawty was tripping #yes I did listen to Frankenstein the musical while I wrote this wdym

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calice-says · 1 month ago

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Unexpected Accomplice

Sypnosis:

Many thoughts swirled in his mind at once—questions seeking answers, curiosity itching to be satisfied, and, most of all, the growing concern gnawing at him for the younger girl before him.

But he held back.

Instead, Kaiji exhaled softly, rocking back on his heels before shifting his weight forward again. He glanced at Rinka, who remained still, her expression unreadable despite the way her fingers flexed slightly at her sides.

“Wanna walk for a bit?” he asked, keeping his tone light. No pressure, no prying—just an open-ended offer.

---

Warnings: OOC, Bullying (not that graphic), Violence (if you count Rinka smacking with her shoe)

Word count: 4547

Kaiji first met her somewhere during elementary school, just a few weeks after meeting Hayami due to their shared love for soccer. He could almost remember it like it was yesterday—

“Don’t touch my brother.”

Despite the steady voice, there was a slight quiver at the edges. In front of them stood a girl, acting as a shield between him, Hayami, and a couple of bullies. Her delicate form, yet unwavering stance, trembled slightly from the force of pushing one of them away.

Her hair, a soft peachy pink, was tied into half-pigtails, though a few strands had slipped loose, adding to the slightly disheveled look. But what stood out the most were her eyes—sea-green and sharp, their shape accentuating the intensity of her glare as she stared down the bullies.

It took Kaiji a few seconds to process her words: Don’t touch my brother.

As far as he knew, he was an only child. Which could only mean one thing—this girl was Hayami’s sister.

Her arm, raised in a protective stance, trembled—whether from the strain of pushing the bully away or something else, Kaiji couldn’t tell.

“Haaa? And what’s a girl like you gonna do?”

“Yeah! You’re tiny!”

“Bet you’d cry like your brother over there!”

The bullies sneered, their words laced with cruel amusement, clearly enjoying the way they loomed over her. Kaiji’s gaze flickered toward them, his lips pressing into a deep frown as he gulped, fearing for the girl’s fate.

“R— Rinka…”

Hayami whimpered beside him, cradling his injured arm from the fall. Tears streamed from his dark eyes, and even through his cracked glasses, Kaiji could see the intense emotions flickering within them—pain, fear, and worry.

The girl—Rinka, his mind supplied—glanced at them, and for a split second, her sharp sea-green eyes softened. Concern for her brother’s injury was evident, mingling with the barely suppressed anger simmering beneath the surface. But just as quickly as the moment came, it vanished, her gaze snapping back to the punks before them, resolute.

No one expected what she did next.

Without hesitation, Rinka slipped off her doll shoe and swung, striking two of them square in the head—the solid heel making a sharp, satisfying thunk on impact.

Rinka was the opposite of her brother, and definitely not someone Kaiji had expected. He had heard occasional stories about her from Tsurumasa himself, but he had pictured her as someone just as meek as him.

She was polite, well-mannered, and carried herself with a quiet grace that almost felt out of place for someone her age. Despite being the least outwardly expressive of the two siblings, she had a way of making her emotions known far more clearly than Tsurumasa ever could.

However, beneath that ladylike demeanor was a sharp edge—

She was a wildcard.

One moment, she could be calmly flipping through a book, entirely absorbed in her own world, and the next, she was launching a well-aimed retort that left people stunned. She wasn’t loud or brash, but she had an uncanny ability to say just enough—to either shut someone down completely or throw them off track. She was the kind of person who played by the rules when it suited her and bent them when it didn’t.

You could never really predict what she was thinking, only that when she made a move, it was always intentional.

She was blunt, straightforward, and sharp—like a well-aimed shot that was precise and impossible to ignore. She never fired without purpose, never wasted words on empty threats. Her words would often hit like a bullet, finding its mark—quick and clean that leaves an impact long after the conversation had ended.

Despite all of that, though, he could see the similarities between the Hayami siblings.

For all of Rinka’s sharpness, there was a quiet warmth beneath it—just like Tsurumasa. They were both soft in their own ways, even if they expressed it differently. Tsurumasa wore his kindness openly, gentle and unguarded, while Rinka’s was more subtle, tucked behind careful glances and actions that spoke louder than words. Both of them were fiercely compassionate, protective of those they cared about.

However, everything changed when he and Tsurumasa became first years of high school, and Rinka entered her third year of junior high.

Fifth Sector happened, and it changed both of them—Tsurumasa especially. He became more pessimistic, while Kaiji grew more hesitant than before, a stark contrast to how he had been in the years prior.

On the other side, Rinka became quieter.

She was in a different school than Tsurumasa—Kunugigaoka, was it? It was a highly elite private school that breeds the best of the best individuals.

Heck, its prestige rivaled Raimon’s—if not outright surpassed it.

Kaiji didn’t understand why their parents had to separate them. Wouldn’t it have been easier to send them to the same school? It wasn’t like they were struggling financially—both Raimon and Kunugigaoka were prestigious in their own right (although the latter school was much more expensive than the former…), but surely keeping the siblings together would’ve made more sense.

But for whatever reason, their parents had decided otherwise. Tsurumasa went to Raimon, while Rinka was sent to Kunugigaoka.

Maybe it was about the opportunities; Tsurumasa wanted to play soccer, and Raimon was the perfect choice, while Rinka wanted to follow in their mother’s footsteps, and what better school to apply to than the one their mother had attended in her teens? Kaiji never really got a clear answer.

He rarely saw their parents, so the chances of getting one were slim.

It wasn’t that they were neglectful, oh no. The times Kaiji did see them, they were nothing but doting. They were just always busy with work most of the time, leaving the two siblings to fend for themselves and be left to their own devices.

Regardless, all he knew was that the distance between them only seemed to grow, and the thing with Fifth Sector didn’t exactly help.

With her in a different school, their interactions became less frequent, reduced to minimal meetups and brief conversations whenever their paths happened to cross. And yet, even in those moments, Kaiji could tell that something was off.

She was quieter, more reserved than before. Not necessarily colder, but there was a weight to her presence now, a carefulness in the way she carried herself. It wasn’t the same kind of hesitance that Tsurumasa had developed—it was something else, something harder to place.

He could tell that Tsurumasa was worried too, despite the things he went through as well from his—or their—side. After all, it was his younger sister they were talking about, someone he should protect and care for.

Especially when she started coming home with scratches and wounds with some dirt still lingering on her uniform, hastily covered by colorful band-aids and bandages. No matter how bright or playful the designs were, or how many stickers were plastered on top, they did little to lighten the mass of concern that grew with each passing day.

“It’s nothing, you don’t need to bother.”

Tsurumasa’s pained expression and Rinka’s dull, stoic face had been etched into Kaiji’s mind ever since.

As Kaiji walked in the direction of his home after separating from Hayami, he wasn’t sure whether he should be happy or not. The late afternoon air was cool against his skin, the distant sounds of the almost empty street humming softly in the background.

Normally, he would’ve taken a moment to enjoy the quiet, to let his mind drift elsewhere, but right now, the weight in his chest refused to lift.

Just a few days ago, they had received another score order from Fifth Sector, and this time, the win was theirs—three to one. A clean victory on paper, one that should’ve brought a sense of satisfaction. After a few losses in previous matches, they finally secured a victory—a chance to rise in the ranks of Holy Road.

And yet, no matter how much he wanted to see the positives, he just couldn’t.

The victory felt hollow and unsatisfying.

He supposed it was better than being on the losing end this time, but that didn’t change the fact that another team would be forced to take the fall in their place. He knew what it felt like—how frustrating it was to want to play your hardest, to even try, only to be told that your efforts meant nothing in the grand scheme of things.

It was a cruel system, but one they were all trapped in like a vicious cycle.

But alas, if he wanted to keep playing Raimon’s soccer, he had no choice but to obey Fifth Sector. That way, no one could get hurt.

A dark thought, but a sad truth.

Kaiji had always loved soccer, but he never thought it would come to this. Who knew the soccer world could be so much darker than he could ever imagined?

He supposed he could play along—outside of official matches, Coach Kudou still allowed them to play freely during training. It wasn’t much, but it was something. He could still chase the ball, still feel the rhythm of the game, still laugh alongside his teammates, even with the restrictions weighing over them.

Small mercies.

He sighed heavily, slowly, letting the tension flow out of him like waves before tilting his head back to gaze at the sky. The usual blues had taken on a light purple hue, blending seamlessly with soft oranges and yellows, accompanied by cirrostratus clouds that melded effortlessly into the sky.

It was like looking at a painting.

That was when he caught, from the corner of his eye, the familiar outline formed by the leaves and branches of a tree. He turned his head slightly, letting out a quiet sound of acknowledgment.

It was a public park. He came to a stop just in front of the entrance, and almost instantly, a wave of nostalgia washed over him.

Something compelled him to step forward. Maybe it was the familiarity of it all—the trees swaying gently in the breeze, the faint scent of grass, the distant chatter of people passing by. Or maybe, for once, he just wanted to walk without thinking too much.

So he did.

With each step, the heavy weight eased. His gaze flitted over the small details—the worn-out wooden benches he passed, the slightly chipped paint on the fences, the way the golden afternoon light filtered through the leaves. It was quiet, peaceful. A rare moment where his thoughts didn’t have to weigh him down.

That was until a laugh rang out, making him freeze mid-step.

It wasn’t the kind of laughter that brought warmth or joy. No, this one felt different. Off. It had a sharp, mocking edge to it, laced with something sinister—something that hit a little too close to home.

Without consciously thinking about it, he had already moved toward the source of the sound, weaving through the trees with quiet urgency. His steps only faltered when his eyes landed on the scene before him—

“H— Hayami-chan?”

For a moment, he thought his eyes were deceiving him. But the longer he stared, the heavier the weight of reality settled in his chest.

Hayami Rinka was cornered, her back pressed against the rough trunk of the tree with nowhere else to escape. Three girls surrounded her, their movements casual yet invasive—poking at her, brushing against her shoulder as if testing boundaries. They laughed, their voices low yet sharp, whispering as if sharing some cruel secret only they were privy to.

And— hold on.

Did one of them just called her a bitch?

Amidst the disbelief, a familiar flame ignited within him, growing hotter and fiercer with every second he observed the scene.

Rinka’s grey uniform was slightly disheveled—the sleeves of her blazer wrinkled, her skirt dusted with dirt. She stood still, staring back at the three girls with a blank expression, as if bored, but Kaiji could see the caution in her eyes, and the way her fingers subtly curled at her sides.

He thought back to the times she’d come home with bandages, the sudden quiet demeanor, the way she distanced herself, often retreating to her room, claiming she had to ‘study.’

Was… was this why—?

“Hayami-chan,”

Four heads snapped toward him, startled.

Before he even registered it, he had already closed the distance between them. He scanned the girls’ faces—varying from mild shock to barely concealed irritation—before his gaze settled on Rinka’s.

She looked surprised, more caught off guard than anything. Her brows lifted slightly as sea-green eyes widened just a fraction before narrowing again, flickering with something unreadable.

Kaiji, on the other hand, plastered on his usual easygoing smile, shoving his hands into his pockets as he tilted his head slightly. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” haha, what a classic. “So this is where you’ve been.” His tone was casual, almost lazy, but his gaze was anything but, settling heavily on the three girls before flicking briefly to Rinka, who watched him intently with familiar sharpness.

“And who are you supposed to be?” one of the girls sneered.

Her tone was condescending, but Kaiji barely reacted. His smile didn’t waver as he replied, “Her friend.”

That response alone seemed to shift the air. One of the girls, the one who had been the most vocal, opened her mouth as if to say something, but before she could, another grabbed her arm.

Kaiji watched as a silent conversation passed between them—one filled with exchanged glances and barely-there shakes of the head. It didn’t take long after that.

With barely another glance in Rinka’s direction—“Tsk, lucky bitch,” one muttered under her breath—the group turned on their heels and left, disappearing into the park’s winding paths.

It took everything in him not to lash out, because his top priority wasn’t them, it was Rinka.

Kaiji tore his gaze away from the retreaters and settled it on the pig-tailed girl.

“Are you okay?”

Rinka blinked, as if she wasn’t expecting that question. She nodded once in slow motion.

Kaiji smiled, relief swirling in his gut. “That’s good,” He murmured before frowning, and eventually silence draped over them.

It was, admittedly, awkward, and the atmosphere felt taut with unspoken words. It had been a while since they stood face to face, let alone looked each other in the eye.

Many thoughts swirled in his mind at once—questions seeking answers, curiosity itching to be satisfied, and, most of all, the growing concern gnawing at him for the younger girl before him.

But he held back.

“Wanna walk for a bit?” he asked, keeping his tone light. No pressure, no prying—just an open-ended offer.

Rinka hesitated, her sea-green eyes studying him for a moment before she gave a small nod.

Kaiji grinned. “Alright then.”

With that, he turned and started toward the park’s main path, not looking back but slowing his pace just enough. A few seconds later, he heard the faint shuffle of footsteps behind him.

She followed.

(When he glanced, he almost jumped to see she was suddenly by his side. He could’ve sworn he heard her steps just behind him a few feet or so…

Quite fast, like her brother.)

(..She was quieter, though. Eerily silent. Almost as if her very presence wasn’t there.)

As they stepped onto the asphalt path, instead of heading toward the exit, Kaiji led them further into the park, intent on making a full circuit of the area. Rinka, it seemed, didn’t mind in the slightest, smoothly matching his pace.

Neither of them didn’t speak for a while. The silence that cocooned them became somewhat mild, until it gradually shifted into something more comfortable. Yet, the unspoken tension and words hung in the air, almost as palpable as the gentle breeze that swept through the park.

Eventually, Kaiji decided to make some small talk.

“Brings back old memories, doesn’t it? This place, I mean.”

Silence.

But Kaiji sensed the subtle shift in the air, and Rinka gave a barely audible hum of acknowledgment.

“I remember,” Kaiji continued, a smile creeping onto his face. “How you smacked those two with your shoe. Thinking back now, it was really funny—especially them running off with their tails between their legs.”

He glanced at her and felt pleased when he caught a small smile forming on her lips. Good.

“You were pretty afraid of me back then,” Rinka suddenly said.

Kaiji blinked, startled—whether by her sudden comment after such a long silence or by the implication of her words, he wasn’t sure.

“Eh? What do you mean?”

Rinka shifted her gaze to him. “You trembled and backed away when I got close.”

He paused, tilting his head as he tried to recall the memory. “Oh,” he muttered as realization set in, a flicker of amusement and something sheepish crossing his face.

“You still had that fierce look in your eyes and you were still holding your shoe,” he explained, rubbing the back of his neck. “I honestly thought you were gonna hit me next…”

Now it was Rinka’s turn to blink. Something thoughtful etched itself into her features before a light pink flush rose across her cheeks. “Oh,” she mumbled, bringing her head down.

“Sorry, I didn’t recognize you at that time, so I was…”

As she trailed off, Kaiji took this cue to intervene, offering her a reassuring look. “Nah, don’t worry about it! That was the first time we met, anyway.”

He watched as Rinka composed herself again, her expression settling back into something more neutral. Then, before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “You were pretty cool that day.”

For the first time, Rinka finally looked at him—really looked at him.

Kaiji met her gaze head-on with a grin.

Rinka didn’t say anything at first, just staring at him with those sharp sea-green eyes of hers, pupils shifting slightly with an imperceptible calculating glint, trying to spot something out of the blue.

Then, just when he thought she wouldn’t respond, she let out a quiet breath—something that wasn’t quite a sigh, but not exactly a scoff either.

Rinka turned her gaze forward, her steps steady as she walked ahead. “I… won’t deny that we haven’t talked in a while. The same goes for my brother.”

Kaiji’s steps faltered, not expecting the sudden confession. The sudden shift of topic.

Oh, they were going to have The Talk now, were they?

He didn’t respond, but he knew she was right. It had been a long time since they had an actual conversation—not just small talk in passing or the occasional greeting when their schedules happened to align, which was as rare as a blue moon.

He waited for her to say something else, but the minute she continued, he froze mid-step. “I know about Fifth Sector.”

His breath hitched slightly, but he masked it well. A sudden seriousness washed over his features as he turned to her. “Hayami-chan, how did—” He had cut himself off right then and there before he could fully express them.

How did you know?

Kaiji had always been careful. Whenever he was over at the Hayamis, he never let anything slip. Even Tsurumasa had pleaded with him not to say a word, not wanting his parents, and especially Rinka, to worry. They both agreed it was better to keep her out of it—keep anyone out of it.

And yet, here she was, speaking about it as if it were an open secret.

They had stopped walking now, with Rinka turning to face him head-on. Her expression remained indifferent, yet something unreadable lingered beneath the surface.

She parted her lips as if to say something but closed them again. A flicker of guilt passed through her eyes before she slowly raised her left hand to clasp her right arm.

“Tsurumasa-nii… he’s not okay, is he?” Rinka asked hesitantly. “And you’re not alright either.”

Kaiji stiffened.

Rinka's words pierced through him like a projectile, and the weight of them pressed down on his shoulders. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. What was he supposed to say to that?

Tsurumasa wasn’t okay. None of them were okay.

Kaiji exhaled sharply through his nose, glancing away momentarily as if checking to see if anyone was listening. “…What gave it away?” he muttered, attempting to sound lighthearted as he smiled. But the smile didn’t reach his eyes—there was no happiness in it, just resignation, and his tone carried a hint of nervousness.

Rinka didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she tightened her grip on her arm, her fingers curling just slightly into the fabric of her sleeve. Eventually, her grip softened, and a small, dry chuckle escaped her. “You’re pretty transparent, Hamano.”

It wasn’t an accusation. Just a simple fact.

He couldn’t help but feel as if he had just been hit, though.

“Even when you tried to hide things, it was easy to see through you. Now, you smile the same, talk the same, but it’s not quite right,” she explained before sighing, shaking her head in an almost disapproving motion. “Not to mention that whenever I’d walk in on you two talking, or whenever I’m around, you two would suddenly clamp up. It was a little amusing at first, but it was getting annoying.”

Something akin to embarrassment rose at the back of his neck, and in response, Kaiji brought his hand up to rub at the spot. “Ah, that, we… sorry.” He settled on that instead, unable to find any better excuse.

Not that he’d need to anyway.

Rinka sighed, putting her hand down, and once again, the silence stretched out.

It was Rinka who broke the silence this time, starting with a quiet, “I’m sorry.”

Those two unexpected words hit Kaiji like a punch to the gut, and oh god, the guilt in her voice was almost palpable. “Hayami-chan, what are you—”

“I’m sorry that both of you went through that,” she continued, cutting him off. “I’m sorry for being oblivious, for not noticing sooner. I know it wouldn’t have changed much—maybe it would’ve been helpless either way—but still… even the smallest change could have made all the difference.”

Kaiji’s eyes widened when he saw the way her eyes had become glossy. It was clear she was holding back tears, but what startled him most was the familiar rage that swirled beneath it all. And something else—something unreadable—that sent a chill up his spine.

“So with that,” Rinka said, her voice steady despite the storm in her eyes, “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure that never happens again.” Her expression hardened, sharp and unwavering.

“Fuck Fifth Sector.”

Her frustration echoed through the air, and Kaiji was struck with a mix of terror and, strangely, amusement. Before he could react, he quickly closed the gap between them and covered her mouth with his hand.

“H— Hayami-chan!” The older teen practically shrieked, glancing around frantically. A tinge of relief settled in his chest when he saw that it was just the two of them. “What if someone heard you? Or worse, someone from Fifth Sector…!”

Rinka grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand off her mouth. “Let them, what are they gonna do, kidnap me?”

“K— Kidnap?! No! Absolutely not— I don’t think they’d kidnap people??”

“I’d be waiting,” Rinka said anyway, her voice laced with a dark promise, and Kaiji stilled. Her eyes softened, offering warmth as her shoulders relaxed a little. “Unfortunately, I still have a lot to take care of, but until then, please wait for me.” She continued.

Kaiji blinked at her, disbelief still radiating off him—and hell, why did he have this nagging sense of foreboding that he should believe her? Why did it feel like she wasn’t joking at all?

Maybe it was because she never made any empty threats. Or maybe it was because of the unwavering resolve gleaming in her sea-green eyes—steady, unflinching, and absent of hesitation. The longer he looked, the more he felt like he could be pulled in by the seriousness and sincerity that swirled within.

Still, he dismissed her words with a huff, shaking his head. There was no way she could go up against something like Fifth Sector. It was ridiculous to even consider. And yet…

A part of him couldn’t deny that it was nice—comforting, even—to have someone else in on the truth. Sure, he had his teammates, but it was hard walking around on eggshells at home. Having to dodge questions from his family, pretending that everything was fine when they asked how his matches went, how training was, and how he felt about soccer. Lying through his teeth just to keep them from worrying.

But Rinka knew. And she wasn’t treating him like he’d break.

Kaiji exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. Then, he let out a short chuckle that eventually transformed into laughter. He laughed so hard, he almost couldn’t breathe. It was just so ridiculous!

He shook his head, gathering himself. “Thank you, Hayami-chan,” he breathed out with a small smile.

Rinka smiled.

“Although if your brother heard you say that, he’d throw a fuss…”

“He would,” Rinka didn’t deny it and sighed as she imagined the older Hayami throw another one of those nervous fits, or worse, pass out on the spot. She held up her palm to him. “So let’s keep it from him.”

Kaiji, for the nth time today, was surprised. “Wha— huh?”

“I’m aware that Tsurumasa-nii tends to… worry a lot.” Rinka said slowly. “If he finds out I know, he’s going to overthink everything. He already has enough on his plate. So let’s keep it between us for now.”

Kaiji stared at her outstretched hand, brows knitting slightly. He let out a quiet sigh, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Geez… what am I gonna do with you?” Might as well humor her a little.

Then, taking her hand, he gave it a firm shake.

“Well then,” he said, voice softer now, “our secret stays here.”

He ignored the flash in her eyes that felt just a little too dangerous for comfort.

He wasn’t the only one left speechless—he was pretty sure Tsurumasa’s jaw was practically kissing the floor.

Even Kurama let out a strangled sound of surprise, and Kaiji didn’t need to look around to feel the stunned silence radiating from the others. Some mirrored his reaction, while a few managed to mask theirs behind stiff expressions.

As soon as Sorano finished, the elephant in the room opened her mouth, “I’m Hayami Rinka, first year. I’ll also be your manager from now on.”

At that very moment, Kaiji thought, he really should’ve believed her.

But then again, how was he supposed to know she was serious?!

As he and Tsurumasa stared at the younger Hayami in disbelief, her eyes met Kaiji’s.

She smiled—mischievous, almost smug, clearly relishing the looks she received if the twinkle in her eyes was anything to go by.

Oh, he really should’ve taken her seriously.

..Well, at least they can walk home together?

Another dump that's been sitting for four years...

Date created: June 2020

Date revised and edited: November 2024

This is mostly a WIP. Honestly, Rinka being related with Hayami from IEG started out as a joke since I was researching the fandoms' characters to see if someone shares the same surname, and lo and behold, I made them siblings.

Rinka (after learning the truth about Fifth Sector) joining Raimon feels pretty logical to me—there's no way she'd sit back and do anything, especially with how close she is with Hayami (older brother) and Hamano (childhood friend(? does it count as childhood??)).

Even if she can’t jump into the fire directly, she’d still want to help however she can, and what better way than joining the team as a manager? And besides, there's Tenma and Kariya, she'd have a blast messing with everyone.

Then again, my indecisive ass is not sure :')

Btw, the arts do not belong to me!! I found them on pinterest so I unfortunately cannot credit them :') but here are the links tho!!

Rinka and Hamano

Anyways have that for now bye byeeee!!

#stay safe everyoneee #assassination classroom #inazuma eleven go #ieg #inazuma eleven #ansatsu kyoushitsu #hayami rinka #hayami tsurumasa #hamano kaiji #hamano: wdym kidnap? fifth sector wouldnt do that right??#rinka after a rescue mission with class e to save tenma and maehara: ..right #(you didnt see that)#:)#this was originally supposed to be hayami tsurumasa's pov about his sister #his suspicions and whatnot #but past self decided that was for the future #the future: *sitting silently in the docs*#fifth sector better watch out bc they picked on the wrong brother #a little sister's wrath rawr

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