#and also my friend who got back from visiting family in japan and kept laughing about people who didn't realise her parents were together

[vendettaparker]

Peanut Butter and Extra Jelly [T.H]

Summary: Tom’s long time crush on you becomes painful when you and Harrison are cast as love interests in a movie. 

Paring: Tom Holland x Actress!Reader 

Word Count: 5.8k

Warning: Suggestive themes, fake smut (very light), jealousy, probably some typos, swearing 

a/n: i have no idea how filming a movie, or auditioning for one actually goes so don’t crucify me for this. i’m pretty happy with how this turned out, especially considering that this is the most i’ve ever written for a fic. also, Burt Kreisher is one of my fav comedians in real life, he has 3 shows on neflix and a mini series.  

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     Tom was not a jealous person. At least, that's what he always told himself. He prided himself in thinking he was a very level headed individual who didn’t let his emotions get the best of him. That worked best for his job anyways; always being able to control his emotions and not get in his own head. That simple, pacifistic mindset seemed to change when it came to you. 

      You were one of the many actors Tom got the pleasure to help hone their technique and work closely with. You were new to the lifestyle of Hollywood and the only roles you had before were in small indie films that never garnered too much attention. The first major role that you landed, which also happened to help kickstart your career, was in the MCU. You played the secondary villain in the third Spider-man movie. 

     Meeting the cast was a dream come true; they were all extremely helpful and they provided tons of tips and tricks in navigating the hectic schedule required for such a huge production. By the time filming wrapped up, you were considered part of their little Spider-man family. 

     Tom was easily the most helpful. Whenever he saw you struggling with anything, he offered to help. You two spent hours upon hours together in his trailer, ordering take out and practicing lines. Some nights you two planned to work through your script, but inevitably ended up falling asleep binge watching The Office, and laughing about crazy shit that happened on set that day. 

     When the movie wrapped up and you went home for a month before the press tour, you were completely unsure and nervous about what direction your career was going in. You auditioned for a few new movies, but had yet to hear from any of the directors about casting decisions. You kept in touch Tom during the month you were apart and expressed your concerns. 

     “I don’t know, Tom. I’m just so sick of waiting around and hoping that some director out there throws me a bone, ya know’?” You said on facetime, while making cookies. 

     “Yeah, I totally understand that, (Y/N/N). I had that issue a couple years ago before the Marvel movies. Trust me, you did outstanding in that role and once it gets noticed I’m positive you’ll have directors calling you, begging for you to audition.” Tom smiled warmly into the camera as he walked around his apartment in London. 

      “Yeah, easy for you to say, movie-star.” You giggled, turning your face away from the camera in hopes that Tom wouldn’t notice the blush his compliments painted onto your cheeks 

     “I’m serious! You were outstanding! Like in that one scene where you—” 

      “Tom! Tessa chewed a hole in my trousers again!” A voice came from outside of the frame, “Mate, you gotta get her to stop doing that somehow.” 

     Tom sighed, and waved his hand dismissively at the figure, “Okay, sure. I’m busy right now.” Tom looked back to the camera, “anyways, as I was saying, don’t stress about not having a new project yet, (Y/N)—” 

     “(Y/N)?” The other voice whisper-yelled. “Let me say hi!”, suddenly the phone was yanked out of Tom's hands and the video shook around a bit as Tom wrestled to get it back. Finally, the camera stilled and Harrison was on the other end smiling. “Hi, (Y/N)!” 

     “Oh, hi Harrison!” You smiled back, laughing. You'd met Harrison a few times when he visited Tom on set. “How are you?” 

     The camera started moving around more as the background behind Harrsion whizzed past. You assumed Tom must’ve been chasing him to get the phone back. 

     “I’m good! I just auditioned for a new movie. You should audition too! The main female lead’s description looks just like you.” He exclaimed, running past the kitchen to his room. 

     “Oi! Give me my phone back you div!” You heard Tom yelling in the background, no doubt in hot pursuit of Harrison. 

     “I don’t know, I'm not sure I’m prepared for a lead role.” You sighed, “What’s the movie called? I’ll look into it.” 

     “It’s called ‘Collateral Damage’, it’s a spy movie.” Harrison said, shutting the door to his room, while Tom pounded on it from the other side. “Yeah, it’d be really fun working with you. Tom constantly talks about how much fun you are on set.” Harrison wheezed out, trying to catch his breath. 

      “Aw, that’s sweet of him.” You laughed. “Well I’ve got to go. Just tell Tom he can call me tomorrow or something.” You waved at the camera. “Bye!”

     “Yup, bye.” Harrison said right before the video cut out. 

      Harrison finally opened the door to a seething Tom. Tom grabbed the phone back from Harrison and noticed that the call had ended. 

     “Dude! Why would you do that?” Tom whined. 

     Harrison just patted Tom’s back, “Sorry, mate. She said she had to go, though. I was about to give the phone back.” 

     Tom huffed and sulked for a moment. “Whatever, I’ll just call her later, I guess.” 

     Harrison nodded and smirked at how whipped Tom was. “You should just ask her out if you’re so desperate for her attention.” Harrison teased. 

     “Shut up. I’m not desperate for her attention, I just like her voice and her personality, and the way she talks, and her funny sayings, and how her hair looks when she just woke up.” 

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     It was only a few days later when you received an email from the director of the movie Harrison told you about, asking for you to audition. You were ecstatic, Harrison must’ve already sent in some things about you since the director seemed adamant that you were of high interest for the role. 

     You called Tom immediately to share the good news. 

     He picked up after the third ring, “Hello, darling! How are you?” he beamed when he answered your call. He usually was the one to call you so he felt a sense of pride knowing that you were calling him for once. 

     “Tom! The director of the movie Harrison auditioned for just emailed me asking for me to audition!” You squealed excitedly. 

     “Really? That’s wonderful, love! Harrison just got the part of the lead too, so you’d be filming with him if you got it.” 

     “That’s so exciting, I’m flying to London for the audition in two days. Are you still there?” You pulled the phone away from your ear and switched it to speaker. “I’m booking the flight right now.” 

     “Yeah, I’ll be in London for another week and a half. Then we have the press tour starting in Japan.” Tom said, also switching to speaker phone to look at his calendar. “You can stay with Harrison and I while you’re here. Since we have to go to Japan together anyways.” Tom offered nervously. He really wanted you to stay in his flat with him. It’d be all cute and domestic, and maybe, just maybe, he’d spend enough time with you to not feel nervous about asking you on a date. If he was lucky, that is, but awaiting your reply he was a jittery ball of nerves. 

     “Yeah, that sounds wonderful. I won't be intruding though, right?” You said, smiling from ear to ear. Thank god you weren’t on facetime and Tom couldn’t see the stupid smile adoring your features. 

     “No, of course not. Harry will be so excited to see you. And Tessa too, she really misses you.” Tom shuffled around with his phone, shooting a quick text to Harrison letting him know you were coming to stay for a week. 

     “Ok, thanks so much, this is really thoughtful of you. I absolutely can’t wait to see you!” You gushed, finalizing your purchase of a one-way ticket to London. “K, the flight is at 2:30 pm here, it’s about 9 and a half hours, but you’re also ahead of me, so I’ll be in around..5?”

     “Yeah, that sounds right to me,” Tom chuckled, “I’ll come pick you up. I’ll wear my incognito disguise.” 

     “If you mean that stupid t-shirt you got that says ‘I’M NOT A CELEBRITY’, then maybe I’ll ask Harrison to come pick me up…”

     “That’s cold (Y/L/N).” 

     You giggled softly, “I’m sorry, Tommy. If it makes you feel better, that shirt isn’t as bad as that stupid blue beanie that you never wear correctly.”

     “How the fuck would that make me feel better? You’re killing me, (Y/N/N).” 

     You laughed at his over dramatic reaction, “Sorry that you’re a sensitive babe. I gotta go now, see you soon!” You hung up before Tom could respond with a sassy quip. Then immediately after you received a text:

Tommy: The second you get here I’m bout to 👊 

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     Tom called Harrison up after you got off the phone, he needed to make sure his best friend wouldn’t say or do anything to embarrass him in front of you. 

     “Tom, don’t you think this is a bit obsessive? I mean, she’s only staying with us for a week and you already know her so well from spending all that time filming with her.” Harrison sighed, sick of listening to Tom ramble about every possible embarrassing situation he could be put in, in the coming week. 

     “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. It's no big deal. But don’t mention that time I accidentally shit my pants at the club, or that time I got hit in the head with a golf ball ‘cus I got distracted by a flock of geese, or that time a got chased by a flock of geese, or—”

     “Geez, mate. At this point we might as well not even talk to her.” Harrison chuckled, thinking of all the stories he could bring up about Tom around the dinner table with you. Tom really was just a walking ball of embarrassing moments. 

     “Stoppp ittt,” Tom whined, “when we were on set it was usually just the cast and Harry around, but you? You could do some real fucking damage to my love life, Haz.” 

     “What love life?” Harrison barked out, laughing. 

     Tom then hung up and began praying to whatever god was out there that this week could go by without a hitch, and then you and him would be on your way, together, to Japan. 

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     The whole week spent in London actually went really well, especially the audition. Tom and Harrison both accompanied you for moral support, well Harrison actually had to be there to be your scene partner, but it was still nice knowing he supported you. 

     The director shook your hand and you went through the normal formalities before beginning your scene with Harrison. It was a quick scene with a monologue in it. The main premise of the movie was all about choosing love over work, especially in dangerous, life-threatening scenarios. The scene you used to audition with Harrison was the scene where the main character, Lincoln, and his lover interest, Mallory, were arguing, trying to push each other away to keep each other safe. The scene had a lot of raw emotion that you were able to tap into, and the directors gave your performance a standing ovation once the scene concluded. 

     They said that they’d get back to you within the next few days, but they also mentioned how the chemistry between you and Harrison was off the charts, leaving you hopeful. Tom and Harrison both gave you hugs and pats on the back. Tom had watched the whole scene unfold and he was in complete and utter awe of your talent. Part of him was annoyed that he didn’t audition for the movie and a chance as your love interest. But Harrison deserved this big break and so did you, so he was hopeful of the outcome being something that benefitted both of his best friends. 

    After the audition the rest of the week went by nearly perfectly. The real kicker was when Tom’s family invited you and Harrison to join them for dinner. Tom had not anticipated his mom asking you to come to family dinner, so he wasn’t able to stop the embarrassing anecdotes his mom told on his behalf. 

     “Tom had the cutest little tush,” Nikki exclaimed, placing the old homemade scrapbook in your lap and flipping through a couple of pages. “See look,” she happily pointed to a picture of Tom as a toddler in a bath, surrounded by bubbles, his little bum poking through them. 

     Tom sat uncomfortably on the sofa next to you, cringing at the now 21 year old photo of him. He expected you to also cringe along, or worse case scenario, get up and make a flimsy excuse to leave his crazy family, but you just chuckled along with Nikki and continued making your way through the scrapbook, making little comments here and there. 

     “Oh, and this one,” Nikki said, pointing to a photo of Tom crying and Sam holding up a superhero action figure triumphantly, “that was Tom’s favorite toy, but when Sam saw how much Tom liked it, he made an effort to always be playing with it when Tom came into the room and he wouldn’t share.”

     You giggled at the little whiny face Tom made in the picture, and turned to him, replicating it on your face, making fun of him. Tom laughed along and playfully shoved you. He adored how well you seemed to fit in with his family and his feelings for you only multiplied. 

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     The week in London was one of the best in your life. You didn’t realize how much you missed Tom until you got to the airport and he was there waiting for you, unfortunately in his stupid blue beanie, and no, it wasn’t on right, his big ears poked out of it horrendously. 

     The last day you had in London before you and Tom went to Japan, you finally received a call about the audition. The director called you to congratulate you on getting the part, and he sent you numerous emails about scheduling, where to be, and when. Harrison was elated to have a familiar face playing his love interest on screen, and Tom was over the moon excited for you, this on top of the Spider-man movie coming out, you were certainly becoming a force to be reckoned with. 

     You spent the night celebrating at a club, Harry and Sam also showed up to party with you. The night was still young and the club was already packed and in full swing. Tom ordered two shots for each of you to start off the night before he was whisked away by a few fans to sign autographs. When he didn’t return you took it upon yourself to have his shots, giving you an extra edge to help spice up your night. 

     Harrison found Tom in the corner of the club talking to some fans. But throughout his whole time taking pictures with them, he couldn’t help but glance at you every once and a while. You looked so carefree and beautiful, dancing around in your shiny silver top and leather leggings. 

      “Tom.” Harrison interrupted Tom’s gawking and directed his attention to the small group of fans Tom was with. 

     Tom nodded and finished up his pictures and autographs before wishing them all a good and safe night. Once he reached you, you engulfed him in a bone crushing hug. 

     “Thank you for such a great time in London, Tommy.” you slurred, already feeling the impact of the four shots you took. “I had the best time of my whole life.” You pecked his cheek and pulled him close to dance with you. 

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     The following month or so on the press tour was a once in a lifetime experience. You travelled to more cities than you even knew the name of and you had all of your friends by your side. More so, you had motivation to remain approachable and well liked by fans considering that you were moving up in the industry. Some interviews were mostly for Tom, Zendaya, and Jacob. Your role in the movie was big enough for you to be needed for some interviews, and most people were genuinely interested in getting to know you, but there were also a handful of press activities that you weren’t included in, which you didn’t mind. 

     When you didn’t have anything to do for an hour or so, you would text Harrison and send him funny memes. He was quickly becoming one of your closest friends; you had already created a surplus of inside jokes with him just over the phone. 

     Tom noticed how you were always laughing at your phone or rapid fire texting. Even when you were being interviewed, Tom could faintly hear the buzz of your text message notifications going off. 

     “Tom,” you snapped in front of his eyes, “did you need something?” 

     “Huh?” Tom blinked a few times, “Uh—no, sorry.” Tom’s cheeks flushed pink, embarrassed for having been caught staring at you. He couldn’t help it though, you were dressed so pretty that day. You had your hair done up in two bubble braids and you wore his pink sweatshirt over your yellow sundress. 

     “Okay then.” You smiled at him. You went back to your phone, reading what Harrison had just texted you. “What was the name of that comedian we watched the other night?” 

     “The one on Netflix?” 

     You hummed out a yes, tapping away at your phone. 

     “Burt Kreisher, why?” Tom asked, leaning over to your chair to try and catch a glimpse of who you were texting. When he saw the contact name “Hazzy”, he couldn't stop the little angry pit of jealousy that started in his stomach. Sure, you were here with him now, not with Harrison, but when you two were apart you also texted him nonstop, and the texts seemed to all be inside jokes, which was something you also shared with him that he held near and dear.

     “I made a joke referencing him to Harrison and he didn’t get it. Fucking nerd.” You chuckled, texting Harrison a link to the skit you were referring to. 

     Tom chuckled along, but he couldn’t help but frown slightly at how bright your smile was when Harrison replied. 

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     The press tour and premiere of the movie seemed to go by lighting fast. You’d never been to a premiere for a production this big, and your nerves for the red carpet were starting to get to you. 

     You and Zendaya were stuffed into a hotel room with both of your respective teams, both trying to rapidly get both of you ready for the event. 

     “So when do you start filming for your next project?” Zendaya asked, she sat in front of a broadway-equse mirror, bright bulbs of light giving a luminescent glow to her already near flawless complexion. She hadn’t even finished her makeup yet and she was so pretty.  

     “In a month, I have to go back to London next week.” You said, sifting through the opinions you brought for dresses. You brought three options, just in case you changed your mind after seeing yourself in the dress. “Harrison and I are going to go over the scripts together and we were also told to go out in public a few times; for press and whatnot.” 

      “That’s exciting!” Zendaya mused, she glanced at the clock and gave her hairdresser some instructions about how much time she had to do hair. “It’s a good thing you guys are already friends. I remember when I filmed ‘The Greatest Showman’ I didn’t know many of the actors personally, so we had to go out together and do press all while being almost strangers. It was a bit nerve wracking.” Zendaya smiled at you fondly, she was like an older sister to you during this whole movie-making process, she constantly had your back. 

     “Yeah, I mean I’ll probably be in a situation like that at some point, but for my first lead role it’s nice to be working opposite a friend.” You smiled back, finally deciding on the red, sequined dress. 

     You both sat and worked through the makeup process in comfortable silence. 

     “So you and Tom…” Zendaya broke the silence and looked at you with a smirk on her face. 

     “What?” You looked at her with a dumbfounded look, before nervously laughing, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

     “Don’t play dumb, (Y/N/N).” She poked your arm and laughed, “He’s literally obsessed with you.” 

     You laughed at how ridiculous that sounded. A movie star, and very famous movie star at that, obsessed with you? You? Impossible. 

     “Yeah no, sorry but you got the wrong girl, babe.” You sighed, pulling out your phone to snap and selfie with her for your instagram story. You quickly snapped a pic of the two of you, her kissing your cheek, leaving a small, faint lipstick mark. “I mean it’d be nice,” you back tracked, “but I’m sure that’s just my wishful thinking.” 

     “What wishful thinking? I thought you were a pessimist?” Zendaya chuckled, taking her own photo with you to post later. 

     “I am, but I can’t help but indulge a bit.” 

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     Before you knew it, you were back in London, staying in a rented out flat for the next three to four months. Harrison was kind enough to come over to help you set up a work space, but he also offered you to spend most of your time at his place. Since Tom was in New York, doing interviews about the new Spider-man movie and having meetings with the Marvel Cinematic Universe team to try and gauge his future in the MCU, he wouldn’t be around for almost a month, so Harrison offered up Tom’s office when you needed to go over a scene by yourself and wanted a place that was already set up. 

     The days of filming seemed to go by in the blink of an eye. Most of your scenes were with Harrison, and he was the perfect scene partner. He rarely messed up, but if he did then he was quick to use it as an opportunity to improvise. His skills weren’t as well honed in like Tom’s, but it was obvious that their style ranged from a similar source. 

     The main thing about this movie that you were excited, but extremely nervous for, were the two sex scenes. The first one is at the beginning, where the two leads give in to each other for a night, then there's some implied stuff in between, and the last one is when the two leads part ways for the final time at the end of the movie. The first one had to be rough, fast, and needy, whereas the second one was direct to be more slow, thought out, and sensual. 

      Both were extremely stress-inducing to film. Harrison had also never done any scenes like this before, so he was on the same boat as you. Thankfully you had an amazing director and stunt coordinator to work with and with the help of other crew members, the scenes were mapped out so that it wasn’t too much improv or guessing on your part. 

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     The first intimate scene you shot actually happened to be the one at the end of the movie. That scene was more tame and dealt with more emotional subtexts than physical. Since you filmed that one first, you went into filming the next one with more confidence. It only took a few days to get the first scene down to perfection, so with this newfound confidence, it shouldn’t take too long to get the next one done. 

     On the days you shot intimate scenes, you only needed to wear the costume you wore before the scene and then you changed into a robe with nude underwear underneath. The bits with the outfit on before were already shot, so the director called a 30 minute break until you could begin shooting the actual sex part. 

     You were standing by the snack table, eyes scanning the table for any more muffins leftover from breakfast. The robe you wore made your skin prickle whenever a draft came onto set. 

     Just as you had found the muffin you were looking for, a pair of warm hands covered your eyes. 

     “Guess who!” An all too familiar warm, British accentuated, voice called. 

      You turned around in his arms, effectively nudging his hands from your face, and soon you were met with the warmest hazel eyes. Eyes that you missed so much this past month. 

      “Tommy!” You squealed and thrusted yourself into him in a hug. He immediately reciprocated it and wrapped your body in warmth. “What’re you doing here?” You asked once you let go of him. 

      “Harrison gave me the location so I could come watch you film. I just got home, like, two days ago.” Tom eyed you up and down, not realizing what little you had on. “Um—are you wearing anything under that?” He pointed up and down your figure. 

     “Nope, today and tomorrow we’re scheduled to film the sex scene.” You said casually, doing a silly twirl. Tom gulped. 

     “A s-sex scene?” He choked, “I didn’t know you guys had one.” 

     “Yup,” you smirked, “two actually, this is my first one ever, Haz’s too, I think. Well actually, we filmed the sex scene at the end of the movie last week.” 

     “Yeah… t-that’s cool.” Tom smiled weakly. 

     Right as you were about to continue your conversation with Tom, an arm swung over your shoulder and pulled you close. Harrison smiled at the both of you. He wore a similar robe to yours, except he left the front open. His plaid boxers on full display. 

     “Don’t listen to her, Tom. She’s a natural.” Harrison pinched your cheeks. Tom clenched his jaw at the comment. He knew Harrison hadn't meant to imply anything with it, but he couldn't help but hear the hidden meaning behind the otherwise innocent compliment. 

      You giggled and pushed his hand away, “Only ‘cus my scene partner is so darn cute.” You retaliated, poking and tickling his pecs. 

      This kind of goofy banter was normal between you and Harrison, but Tom hadn’t seen either of you in so long. He also had never seen you two interact so fluently with each other. He watched the interaction with a tight-lipped smile, nodding along and shrugging every once in a while to seem like he was paying attention. In reality though, he couldn’t pry his thoughts away from how close you were to Harrison. 

     “Ok everyone! Places! Let’s wrap this scene up and put it to rest today!” Your director called. You and Harrison smiled and waved goodbye to Tom. Harrison pointed to a chair in the room that had a nice view of the set where Tom could watch. Tom nodded and walked over to the chair, enthusiasm for watching you work completely dissipating. 

     The scene started off rough right off the bat. The second the director said ‘Action!’ you and Harrison were practically pouncing on each other. Harrison had you pressed up against the wall and you were both breathing heavily. He was leaving sloppy, wet kisses down your neck, then across your collar bones. Your moans, which Tom always imagined to sound like music to his ears, sounded too real for his liking. But no matter how much he tried to look away, his eyes were glued to the two bodies moving fluidly with one another. 

     “Cut! Cut!” The director yelled, effectively ending the scene. You and Harrison pulled apart and he gave you a peck on the cheek, as in saying ‘good job’. “That was good, but Harrison,” The blonde nodded, awaiting further instruction. “You gotta be a little rougher, hm?” 

     Harrison nodded along with the critique. “(Y/N)?” the director moved his attention to you, “would it be okay if Harrison marked you up? Just a few hickeys to really sell the illusion. We can do without, though, if you feel uncomfortable.” 

     Tom overheard the interaction and internally hoped that you were too uncomfortable for that, but deep down he knew you would do it. You were never the type to stray away from a challenge. 

     “Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded, chest still heaving from the scene. You looked at Harrison. “Is that okay with you?” 

     Harrison nodded, a shy smile tugging at his lips. Yeah, you guys have been working at this scene for days now, but he’d never been rough enough to leave marks. He’d be lying if he said the thought didn’t invigorate him. 

     So the scene started from the top, you pressed up against the wall, all your weight shoved between the flimsy wall of the set and Harrison’s strong arms. Harrison did exactly as the director required, leaving noticeable dark spots across the top of your chest. Unlike your previous moans, which had just been for show, this new roughness in his actions tore real moans from your lips. 

     Tom sat uncomfortably in his chair, wishing he picked a different day to visit you on set. He shifted around, watching twin moans pull from both you and Harrison’s throat. He watched as you nipped at Harrison's ear as he faux thrusted into you. The jealousy that had pitted itself in his stomach soon turned to self-loathing. You looked really into the scene, he couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding. He knew you were a great actress, but he couldn’t believe that this was all acting. In his eyes, he believed that some part of you must wish that this was real. And part of you did like this scenario, but you wouldn’t have picked Harrison to be opposite you in this little fantasy. 

     Your moans and Harrisons both grew louder, leading up to the climax as scripted. Tom, not wanting to watch anymore exited the set quickly before he could watch the scene end. 

     You and Harrison finished up, gaining applause and praise afterwards from the director and crew members on set. 

     “Where’s Tom?” You asked, scrambling back into your robe and smoothing out your now roughed up hair. 

     Harrison, now noticing the absence of his best friend, began to feel a bit guilty. He knew Tom had a thing for you, maybe he should’ve told Tom not to visit set today. 

     “Um, (Y/N)?” He mumbled, pulling you aside slightly. 

     “Yeah?” You still looked around for Tom a bit, heart sinking when you realized that he must've left without saying goodbye. 

      “I shouldn’t be the one telling you this,” Harrison began, drawing your full attention, “but Tom really likes you. He always downplayed it, so I didn’t realize how much, but I think watching this scene might’ve upset him a bit.” Harrison looked towards the exit, no doubtedly where Tom left through, out into the parking lot. 

     “Oh—oh!” You gasped, feeling terribly for having put Tom in such an awkward position. “I didn’t know he felt the same.” You whispered, smiling softly to yourself. Guess Z was right after all. You pulled away from Harrison, “I’ll go talk to him.” 

                                 ➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

      Tom didn’t go far. He still wanted to be there to support you; he didn’t want to come off as a jealous prick, but he couldn’t keep watching that intimacy between you and his best friend. He sat on the curb outside of the building the set was built in. A few people passed him going to their designated buildings on the lot, but he didn’t pay any mind to them, too lost in his thoughts. He needed to tell you sooner rather than later how he felt. No time to be a pussy anymore. 

     “Tom?” You walked up next to his sitting figure, still only in a robe, tightly wrapped around you. He looked up to acknowledge you, mumbling a soft ‘Hey.’ before looking back down, trying to collect his thoughts and courage. It’s now or never. 

     You sat beside him and rested your head on his shoulder. “Harrison told me something interesting in there,” You paused for a moment before continuing, “about you.” 

     Tom’s head shot up, and he looked at you with frantic eyes, only imagining the worse. There were too many things Harrison could’ve told you about Tom to sully your image of him. 

     “Whatever it was, he's a lying prick!” Tom rushed out. 

     You giggled, lifting your head up to look him in the eyes, his dark hazel eyes boring into yours. 

     “That’s a shame then,” You shrugged, “considering I like you too.” 

     Tom breathed out a sigh of relief, before looking back at you, doing a double take. 

    “Wait, what?” 

     “Mhm, yeah.” You said casually, standing up. “But since Harrison’s a liar then I suppose he was wrong.” You teased. 

     “No!” Tom grabbed your wrist and pulled you back next to him, but his aim was a bit off and you ended up in his lap. “He lies about a lot, but not about this.”

     You smiled at him, “I should hope not, considering I’m crazy about you.” 

     Tom couldn’t help the smile that beamed across his face, but then he noticed the marks left on you by Harrison. Remembering why he was insecure in the first place, he looked away. 

     “What about Harrison?” He asked. You looked at him utterly confused. Tom caught on and explained further. “You looked like you were really into that scene with him.” 

     You giggled and pinched Tom’s cheek, turning it red. “I’m an actress, you idiot.”

     Tom scoffed, “I know that. It’s just— I didn’t realize you could fake that kind of love.” 

     You looked at Tom’s downcast face. You leaned in and kissed his neck, just under his jaw. You nipped and sucked softly, leaving a nice, dark pink blotch that would go away in a few days under his jaw and he whimpered softly.

     “I’d never fake that kind of love with you.” You grabbed his face, holding it gently in your hands. “I’d never have to.” You whispered, pulling him in for a kiss, soft and sweet. 

     Tom pulled you closer, resting a hand on the small of your back, kissing back fervently. 

     The short make-out session being cut short by the door to the set bursting opened. Harrison rushing out, now dressed in slacks and a white button up for the next scene you needed to shoot that day. 

     “(Y/N)! Hair and makeup need you.” You lugged yourself off of Tom’s lap, promising to talk to him after you finished for the day. You went back inside, jokingly blowing a kiss to Harrison on your way. 

     Harrison stayed outside and sat next to Tom. 

     “Did she confess first?” He asked after a moment of silence. 

     “Yup.” Tom smiled happily, licking his lips, tasting the strawberry chapstick he saw you put on earlier. 

     “You owe me 10 pounds then, you wimp.” 

     “Oh, fuck off.” Tom groaned, promptly pulling ten pounds out of his wallet and handing it to Haz. 

[seijorhi]

Inescapable

Part 2 of Always - another soulmate au with extra angst!

Oikawa Tooru x female reader, Miya Atsumu x female reader

TW toxic relationships, implied abuse, blind reader

“Stay here,” he murmurs, soft lips brushing briefly against your cheek before you feel his warmth retreat.

It’s an effort to quell the fleeting panic that rises in his absence. Japan is your home – was your home – but Tokyo… You’re not supposed to be in the village. Only the athletes, trainers and the support crew for the national team were supposed to stay there. It kept out distractions, made it easier for security, gave the athletes the space to focus on what they’re there for; to compete. To win. 

You don’t know how he did it, what strings he had to pull, but somehow he’d managed.

A room for the two of you. Just the two of you.

“You’re staying with me,” he’d told you when you’d brought up the possibility of going home to Miyagi to visit your family, or even spend a few days with Makki and Mattsun. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

The words had been whispered, a soft, teasing purr as lips curled into a smirk at your neck, but you know what he’s like when he’s competing. The focus and obsession he’ll throw himself into. 

Especially when you both know who he’ll be competing against. 

Nevertheless, you’re here. Alone now, standing in a sea of strangers talking too loud in a cacophony of foreign tongues while Tooru left to go find his team–

Strong, familiar arms encircle your waist, a kiss pressed to the top of your head. 

– but only for a moment.

“C’mon, cutie. Let’s get going – Coach gave us twenty before he wants us at the gym.”

—

You know one or two of the players on the national team from San Juan. They’re friendly enough, and they’ll stop and chat with you on the odd nights you venture out into the cafeterias dotted around the village for dinner. But for the most part they’re focused on other things and Tooru–

Tooru’s possessive enough of your attention at the best of times. 

Which means that you’re either with him, tucked carefully under his arm as he guides you around the village, or you’re stuck in the room, bored out of your mind waiting for him to come home to you. And for lack of anything better to do, you have the games playing on the TV.

Just for the sound of your mother tongue filling the room around you. Just so you won’t be alone with your thoughts for too long.

It’s different, back home in San Juan. But you understand it – why he brought you. 

“Where I go, you go, always.”

“Always.”

And the loneliness is worth it, you think, when he sinks down into the mattress beside you after a long day’s training and pulls you close, nuzzling into your side. This is better than being left behind. You’re here to support the man you love. Your soulmate, the name on your arm be damned. 

His good luck charm, he hums, kissing you in the early hours of the morning before slipping away. 

But even you can’t just sit around the apartment all day long. It’s good to stretch your legs, even when you’re in strange, unfamiliar territory. You tell yourself that what Tooru doesn’t know won’t hurt him, forgetting just for one blissful moment that your soulmate and his team are not the only ones who might catch you wandering. 

Of course, that realisation doesn’t sink in until broad shoulders suddenly barrel past you, knocking you off your feet. And you would have fallen, awkwardly probably, had a pair of strong, lean arms not caught at your waist, steadying you.

“Jeeze, Bokkun! Watch where yer goin’, wouldja!”

The first voice, the thick, drawling Kansai dialect isn’t familiar, but the voice that follows is impossible to misplace.

“Thought I told you two–”

It cuts off abruptly, and in some distant part of your brain you register that the stranger’s still holding you, the warmth of his hand still braced on your hip, but all you can really focus on is the owner of that second voice.

“Iwa?”

Tooru had told you he’d be here, Hinata too and Kageyama. And of course Ushijima, but you’d assumed that – at least up until they played against one another or team Japan got knocked out of the running – they’d be busy and you wouldn’t cross paths.

There’s a surprised intake of air from your left – ‘Bokkun’, you imagine – and he asks, “Wait, you know her, dude?”

And still, the warm body holding you doesn’t move an inch. Not until a familiar, irritated huff sounds, “Get your hands off her, dumbass.”

The body behind you tenses for a split second before obeying, hands ripping themselves away from you as if he’d been scalded. “Shit, sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine,” you murmur with what you hope is a polite smile, only half paying attention because you can hear Iwa striding towards you. In one breath, he’s knocking back your saviour and pulling you into a one armed hug.

“Shittykawa said he’d be bringing you,” he says quietly as you squeeze him back. It’s been such a long time since you’ve been face to face with him. Tooru calls him to catch up most weeks, more often than putting him on speaker so that you can say hi, but it’s not the same. “Didn’t think he meant to the actual village, though.”

You’ve missed him, you realise. Him and Makki and Mattsun, and suddenly there’s a lump in your throat, emotions welling that you can’t name. There’s so much you want to say to him, things he knows but should be said anyway, but–

“Aren’t you gonna introduce us to your pretty friend, Iwa?”

Your cheeks heat as the two of you part, yet it’s Iwa who answers for the both of you.

“No. You two need to get your asses moving,” he says. “Back to the gym, now. Unless you wanna stay back after everyone else finishes up to run extra drills?”

It’s a clear dismissal, and the two only pause for a heartbeat before grumbling their assent – and one sheepish apology – and heading off to continue their run.

“Let me walk you back.”

Some things never change, you suppose. “Iwa, you have an Olympic team to train,” you tell him with a wry grin. ”I’m not going to risk being accused of sabotaging the Japanese national volleyball team just because you feel the need to be gentlemanly.”

It’s clearly meant as a tease, but instead of the good-natured huff you’re expecting, he sighs. “C’mon. You almost got knocked on your ass, let me walk you back.”

It’s not a suggestion, and as he takes you by the hand and starts leading you back the way you came you’re reminded of high school - he used to do exactly same thing any timeTooru wasn’t around. There’s a slight flicker of irritation at your first breath of fresh air without Oikawa’s overprotective hovering being snatched away, but you know he means well.

He always does.

So you shove those feelings down and offer him a smile. “You know I’m stupidly proud of you, right?” you tell him. “Both of you.”

And something in Iwa relaxes and he laughs, “Yeah well I’m just glad you’re gonna be here to witness me wipe the floor with Shittykawa’s ass.”

—

It’s late, and Tooru isn’t back yet. 

And it wouldn’t bother you except that lunch had been hours ago, and your stomach is starting to growl, hunger settling in. 

Tooru works hard, he pushes himself and stays late when he should be home resting, you know that, but even if you did want to go and find him, pull him back so that he won’t push past his limits days out from competing, you wouldn’t have a clue where to find him – not in this sprawling maze of a complex.

What else can you do but wait, as fifteen minutes turns into half an hour, then an hour, and suddenly it’s almost nine. 

He won’t be happy that you’ve left without him, but either he’ll meet you at the cafeteria, or you’ll get home before he’s back and you’ll have dinner waiting for him. At this time of the night it’s likely to be empty anyway, it’s not like you’re running off in the middle of the dinner rush.

Most of the athletes’ll be back in their rooms, you’re not gonna get knocked around in the mad scramble for food, nobody’s going to pay you any mind.

But once again, you’re proven wrong. 

It’s not quite the roaring din that you’ve come to associate with the dining hall, but you can hear a few quiet conversations scattered throughout the room. At least none of them pay you any heed as you slowly wander the buffet, shyly asking one of the servers to help you pick out something for you and Tooru both.

It’s not until you move to take a seat, hoping that Tooru will get there before you have to try and cart his dinner back to the room that you hear the unmistakable scraping of a chair being dragged back beside you.

“Ya know, Iwaizumi never did end up telling us yer name,” a familiar voice states, settling down into the seat. “He did end up making me ‘n Bokuto run extra laps as punishment for knockin’ into ya, though.”

Out of habit, your fingers fiddle with the sleeve of your jacket – Tooru’s actually – warmth flooding your cheeks. He doesn’t sound pissed off by the fact, and you suppose he probably wouldn’t have sat down beside you if all he wanted was to pick a fight. 

“Oh, I’m… sorry?” It comes out sounding more like a question than anything else. 

He laughs at that, the sound surprisingly warm and pleasant. “Nah, not your fault. Iwa’s a hardass at the best of times.”

“Sounds like he hasn’t changed much since high school,” you muse.

Oikawa might’ve been Captain back then, but that never stopped Iwa from slapping him upside of the head whenever he did something particularly stupid. He was a hard ass, but he was also incredible at keeping the rest of the team in line and motivated, and he kept Tooru grounded. He kept you grounded. Aggressive, tough love was simply a part of that. 

You wonder distantly if his new team realizes just how lucky they are to have somebody like him in their corner.

“High school? Ya knew him back then?” he prods.

He’s a stranger. Not just a competitor, but ‘The Enemy’ just like Kageyama and Ushiwaka. Out of all the teams that Tooru might go up against during the games, you know that they’re the ones he’s most determined to defeat. And you don’t necessarily buy into the whole ‘destined rivals’ thing – Kageyama was never anything but polite to you, but you know you’re supposed to back your soulmate up on this. You know he’d be pissed to find you casually chatting away with any one of them, except maybe Hinata. 

Maybe.

But it’s nice just to indulge in a conversation – even meaningless small talk – with somebody who doesn’t know you as Tooru’s. You can’t help but relax a little, the tension easing from your shoulders, a small smile creeping across your face. 

“I’ve known Iwa since I was six years old. He’s one of my best friends.”

The man hums a little, his chair creaking as he leans back, “Really? He’s never mentioned ya.”

And it’s clear from the sharp intake of his breath that he regrets the words the moment they’re said, but instead of feeling offended, you simply laugh, the sound bubbling up before you can stop it. 

“It’s fine,” you say when he tries to backtrack. “Do you often have deep and meaningful’s with Iwa about his childhood friends?”

He snorts, “Yeah, point taken, I guess. So how come yer here then? Didn’t think they allowed cheerleaders in the village, even the cute ones.”

Something flutters in your stomach at his tone; it’s warm like honey, just a hint of teasing. He’s flirting, you realise, and in an instant you know you should shut it down. Harmless small talk is one thing, but you’re–

You have your soulmate. 

“What makes you think I’m not staff?” you ask instead.

“No uniform,” he counters, and you can’t argue with that. It’s not your fault that you can’t see what everybody’s wandering around wearing. “And you don’t really strike me as the ‘athlete’ type, no offense.”

You don’t really know how to respond to that, so you just shrug somewhat self consciously. He’s not wrong; you don’t really belong here, but you find yourself reluctant to tell him the truth.

The only reason you’re here is because Tooru cheated the system, because he couldn’t bear to be without you.

Or maybe because he knows how much of a mess you are without him. Blind and helpless without him to guide you, even here, back in the country you’d both left behind all those years ago.

“I’m here to support my soulmate,” you tell him instead, and it’s not entirely a lie. No matter what, you’ll always support Oikawa – here, back home, to whatever ends. That was the promise you’d made to each other long before you’d ever left Japan.

There’s a short pause, and you take the opportunity to turn back to the plate of food in front of you – you’d forgotten about it entirely. You half expect that he’ll take it as the perfect opportunity to politely bow out of the conversation. 

You might’ve been blind, but you’re not naive; you know exactly what athletes get up to after the sun goes down in the village. There’s a reason that your welcome packs were stuffed full of free condoms. 

And you’re not interested in that. You have Tooru and he has you. If that’s all that this guy is after; some quick, meaningless fuck, then–

“Volleyball?” he asks, and you almost roll your eyes.

He’s not wrong, of course he’s not, and you suppose considering your connection with Iwa it makes sense that he’d make that leap, but still. One track mind, all of them.

“If I tell you, you might not like me very much,” you say in lieu of an answer.

He leans closer, the chair creaking once more. “So I’m right.” He sounds so smug about it, you almost wanna tell him he’s wrong just to mess with him a little. “What position does he play?”

Not what team, what position. That, more than anything else, mattered to him – and again, you understood it. The pride players took in their position within the machine.

 “You first,” you shoot back instead, because you feel like you have a sneaking suspicion. 

And with a little huffing laugh, he confirms it, “Setter.”

Of course.

And the smile on your face tugs wider, a strange trill running through you, “Ah, and here I thought Kageyama,” you draw the name out, “was Japan’s starting setter.”

He scoffs, dragged in by your teasing jab, “Yer kiddin’, right? Tobio’s talented an’ all, but he ain’t half the setter I am.”

Cocky and smug. You wonder if he has the skills to back it up. Yet just as you open your mouth to pry further, you’re interrupted by a voice.

Several actually. 

“Talking shit again, Miya?”

“Who’s she?”

“Oh hey – Iwa’s friend!”

And your heart skips a beat, your body tensing as those voices close in, more chairs being pulled out, trays of food dumped on the table as his teammates settle down around you. It’s just a name, one name. It doesn’t mean anything, doesn’t–

“Atsumu, why don’t you shut– oh. Y/N, hey. Didn’t realise you'd be here. Isn’t the village restricted to athletes only?”

Kageyama’s blunt greeting isn’t intended to be antagonistic, but it washes over you regardless. You’re frozen, heart pounding, a sick, twisting feeling settling into your gut.

Atsumu, he’d said.

Miya Atsumu. 

Two words, and your world stops spinning. 

You’d promised him – Tooru – years ago that the name on your arm didn’t mean anything. It was all just a cruel cosmic mistake because from the moment you met him, you were his, and he was yours and nothing else mattered.

And you’d told yourself that, repeated it like a mantra until you started to believe it yourself. Because Tooru loved you, you were his soulmate and what kind of horrible fucking person would you be to take that gift, that bond and shove it back in his face.

Tooru isn’t perfect, and he’d freaked out and lied to you, but he’s your soulmate. 

The name on your arm didn’t matter, it didn’t matter that you didn’t know whose it was, because you had Tooru. It should have been his.

And you told yourself that for six months, until some blowout fight had Tooru storming out, you following in his footsteps. 

It was a stranger, some random passerby in the street. You can’t remember what prompted you to stop her and ask, why it suddenly mattered when Tooru had all but convinced you that it didn’t, but you had.

Miya Atsumu. The pronunciation had been unsure, her tongue clunky over the foreign syllables, but in that moment when you’d heard his name every lie you’d convinced yourself of had fallen apart.

It was like you’d been drowning without ever realising it, and the second you’d heard that name a hand was dragging you up to the surface and suddenly air was flooding your lungs.

Miya Atsumu.

There are voices surrounding you, somebody laughing uproariously, but it’s all just white noise. 

“Y/N,” a choked, hoarse whisper that shouldn’t have been heard, but it pierces you like a knife, cutting through everything else. It’s too much. 

On shaking legs you stand, knocking your chair back as you grab for your cane. 

The name hadn’t mattered, until you’d heard it. He hadn’t mattered, until he was standing right there in front of you.

“I– I have to go,” you mutter, not entirely sure if they heard you, or if they even cared. You leave your food untouched on the table, stumbling as you step back.

And again, you hear that whisper of your name. There’s a hand that reaches for you – his or somebody else’s you don’t know, you shrug it off regardless. “I have to go.”

Nobody stops you as you skitter back towards the entrance, but for once the cafeteria is silent. The moment you burst out through the double doors, the brisk, summer night air hits you like a slap, and you don't realise that your cheeks are wet with tears until the breeze cuts through, the damp skin prickling uncomfortably. 

And the sob that follows rips through your chest like a knife.

This isn’t what you wanted. 

If there’s a god out there, he must have a cruel sense of humour, because your name is being called again, and suddenly there’s a hand on your cheek brushing at your tears, an arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. “Cutie, what’s wrong?”

The scent of him, all citrus and summer, invades your nose as you clutch at him tighter. You can’t speak, can’t find the words to tell him, so you just squeeze your eyes shut and burrow into him. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he repeats, not asking this time. 

You take a deep, shuddering breath. “I want to go home,” you whisper, clutching at his jersey. “I wanna go home, Tooru.”

A kiss brushes against the crown of your head, and you almost miss the sound of footsteps pounding on the pavement behind you – at least until the interloper speaks.

“You–” Atsumu breaks off, his breath ragged and raw, and you don’t miss the way that Oikawa stiffens, his grip tightening, fingers digging in. “Yer my soulmate.”

Three simple words, and everything, everything just falls apart.

Tooru snarls, taking a step back and dragging you with him. “She’s not your anything, Miya. Fuck off.”

“You can’t leave me! You can’t - you’re mine!”

It hurts, the grip he has on you. He’s trembling, from rage or fear you honestly don’t know, but you can feel his heart pounding a vicious beat as his arms lock around you like a cage.

“Yeah, that’s why it’s my goddamn name on her arm. Let ‘er go, yer hurting her,” he snaps. 

“She’s my soulmate, so mind your own business and run off back home.”

You can’t breathe.

“Not when yer hurting her.”

It’s like the floor’s suddenly disappeared from beneath you, and you’re in free fall, hurtling back towards god knows what. Your head’s spinning, your legs feel like jelly, and if Tooru wasn’t holding you up against him, you’re not sure you’d still be standing. 

You can’t breathe. 

“Leave, right now,” he hisses. “She’s mine. She always has been, and always will be mine!”

You’d promised him that much, hadn’t you?

“Ya don’t scare me, and I don’t give a flying fuck if yer wearing her name on your arm. That’s my soulmate, and you’ll take yer fucking hands off ‘a her.”

You can’t breathe, not as the shouting gets louder and Tooru’s grip gets tighter. 

He takes another step back, pulling you with him, and another hiccuping sob catches in your throat. You try to speak, to stop this before it gets any worse, but the words won’t come–

“You’re hurting her!”

“I LOVE HER!” he screams. “I would never, ever hurt her!”

“T–Tooru, please…” you beg. It’s little more than a whisper, and neither one of them seems to hear it.

But somebody else does. 

“Hey, hey! What the fuck are you dumbasses doing?!” 

Iwa, always your second protector, your best and oldest friend, wastes no time in getting between the two of them, shoving Miya back.

“What is wrong with you both?!” he snaps, grabbing you by the wrist and ripping you from Oikawa. And you don’t fight it when he tugs you towards him, a protective arm wrapping around your waist. 

You cling to him, like a scared child with tears streaming down your face. 

“Iwa–”

“No, shut up. I don’t wanna hear a single word out of either one of you! Not a goddamn word!”

He doesn’t bother berating them in front of you, though you know that’ll come later. He doesn’t say anything to you either, but his hand doesn’t leave yours all the way back to his apartment. Not the one in the village, but the one just outside of the city.

“You knew, didn’t you?” you ask quietly when he drops his keys on the counter.

There’s a beat of silence, and he sighs. “Yeah, I knew.”

It’s hanging in the air between you, like a dark, stormy cloud about to unleash. “Iwa,” you whisper, your bottom lip trembling once more. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” he answers, as honestly as he can. “But you’re gonna stay here tonight, and tomorrow I’ll call Makki and Mattsun and they’ll come and take you back to Sendai for a little while if that’s what you want. You don’t have to see either one of those assholes, not until…” 

Not until you figure out how you’re supposed to make this impossible choice. 

He squeezes your shoulder as you sniffle. “It’s gonna be alright, whatever you decide to do.”

Neither one of you truly believes that, but what’s left to say?

He hugs you again before he leaves, makes you promise to call if you need him, but you both know you won’t.

Not tonight, not when he has other priorities. 

And then you’re alone, sitting on his couch surrounded by blankets with a mug of hot chocolate warming your hands. You know you should try to get some sleep, you’re exhausted, overwhelmed, but every time you close your eyes, you can’t stop thinking about it.

About the way Tooru’s voice had shook, how you’d smiled for Atsumu, that familiar warmth blooming in your chest when the two of you talked and you’d teased him.

And you remember how it was the day Tooru first told you that he loved you, the butterflies in your stomach the first time he’d kissed you, spinning you around and laughing as his lips met yours again and again and again. 

How he’d yelled and screamed and fallen apart in your arms that night, begging you not to leave him. 

You love him, for better or for worse, you love him. 

A loud knock echoes through the apartment, shaking you from your thoughts.

It’s almost 2am, and nobody but Iwa knows you’re here. Nobody should be knocking, and so you sit, frozen in the dark listening as your heart hammers uneasily.

One beat, then two, and then–

“I know you’re in there, just– just please. I need… I need–” he breaks off with a frustrated huff, and there’s a low thud, like his head’s fallen against the door. “Please,” he begs, quieter this time. 

There’s another thud.

“I need ya. Don’t lock me out, I’m beggin’.”

[rinkrats]

🥺 that mike lange story. But also those tags #sid loooves christmas #he loves giving presents #looks good in red #piles on the pounds fast #post hockey career as santa 😂😂👌🏽👌🏽

he loves his mementos and presents and is COMMITTED to them. scrapbooking. matching jackets. little pills with hidden motivational messages~*~ his love language is gifts and neck smooches and stalking geno. relevant right now are some anecdotes i sent a friend earlier this year for dorky sid gifts fic fodder:

1. Crosby's constant thoughtfulness would be impressive from anyone, much less someone of his stature.

"Sid always texts me happy birthday, he's always asking me like, how's Russia?" Evgeni Malkin said. "We talk and message all summer. He asks me how my skates are. He knows, like, everything. He follows my Instagram, I think (laughs)."

In addition to having a handle on those little details, Crosby is constantly providing those around him with memories and mementos. If the team is on the road and goes, say, sightseeing or to a sporting event and takes a group photo, Crosby will later send a framed copy to everyone.

When Ron Hextall and Brian Burke watched their first Penguins game in person, Crosby is the one who approached head equipment manager Dana Heinze and asked for two used game pucks to give to the new GM and president of hockey ops. 

After the Penguins won in 2009, Crosby had jackets made for the three players on the team who had scored a Cup-clinching goal in Game 7: Talbot (Pittsburgh), Ruslan Fedotenko (Tampa Bay) and Mike Rupp (New Jersey).

"They were blue jackets with gold buttons, and each one had a patch on it that said 'GWG Game 7,'" Talbot said. "At one of our first team meals the next season, he presented us with the jackets and did a big ceremony with the music and stuff. We had a private room in the restaurant. I still have the jacket."

-The Consummate Teammate, Captain and Ambassador, Feb 2021

2. Merz: My first interaction with Sid was when we were on the bench, guys were talking about a teammate, and the first thing this 15-year-old says is, “Hey, guys. Let’s keep everything positive. Don’t talk about your teammates that way.”

Salcido: When we were getting ready for nationals, he found these little pills that you could put a hidden message inside. They unscrewed, and inside was a tiny scroll. He gave one to every teammate. … He had everyone fill one out. He didn’t tell anyone what to write, but he made it known that we all knew what the goal was: winning nationals. So we wrote on our scrolls, rolled them up and put them in the pill thing. We kept them with us everywhere we went.

-‘Is this real?’: Stories of Sidney Crosby’s year at a Minnesota prep school, May 2020

3. On “Butterfly Boy” Jonathan Pitre:

Though the Senators are his team, Sidney Crosby has always been Jonny’s favourite player. After the TSN documentary airs, Tina gets a call from the Penguins. Sid needs Jonny’s measurements. He wants to have a suit made for him by his personal tailor, Domenico Vacca.

“It’s the kindest, sweetest gesture,” Tina says. “Sid heard that Jonny went to a lot of games, so he wants him to look like he’s one of the guys.”

“I want him to feel like a pro,” Crosby says. “Here’s a guy who is going through something so painful, and his first thought is always, ‘How can I help others?’ When I was young, I’d watch on TV the players coming to the rink in their suits. That was a cool part of being an NHL player. I want him to feel that, to make it as real as possible for him.”

Tina tries to discreetly measure Jonny while she’s changing his dressings. But he’s way too smart for that.

“Um, Mom, why are you measuring me? Am I going for surgery again?” he asks.

“No, no!” Tina replies, trying to reassure him and come up with a good lie, all in the same breath. “The doctor needs them just to make sure they have proper dressings next time you are in.”

A few weeks later, the sharp navy blue suit shows up at their front door, along with a couple of ties, an autographed stick and a handwritten letter from Sid. 

“His eyes just light up,” Tina says. “Jonny always liked to be well-dressed, and he just loves having his own suit. It fits perfectly. He looks so good in it.”

-Beauties by James Duthie (2020)

4. Pascal Dupuis inspired his Pittsburgh Penguins teammates on their run to the Stanley Cup, and Sidney Crosby found a special way of driving that message home.

Dupuis retired in December with lingering health concerns because of blood clots. Despite his NHL playing days coming to an end, the veteran forward remained an integral part of the Penguins and was in uniform to hoist the Cup after Pittsburgh's six-game win against the San Jose Sharks in the Stanley Cup Final.

On Sunday, Dupuis brought the Cup home one last time as a player to share a special day with his family, friends and hometown fans.

"Yes, it does feel bittersweet a little bit," Dupuis said. "You get the Cup, you want to celebrate. But at the same time I got a gift by the mail [Saturday]. Basically, it's a book of all the pictures of all the good stuff we went through. It came from Nova Scotia, so you guys can figure out who it came from (Crosby), but he couldn't give it to me during the season, he saw me skating a little bit.

"And he sent it [Saturday], before my day with the Cup, so he knew what he was doing to get me right here," Dupuis said, putting his fist over his heart.

-Pascal Dupuis shares Stanley Cup with family, friends, Aug 2016

5. In 2011, Crosby was out of the lineup with a concussion, and the Penguins made their annual visit to Children’s Hospital.

Crosby got along so well with one boy there and was so touched that he later asked Bullano to go back... just the two of them, no cameras, no attention.

When Bullano and Crosby met for the follow-up visit, Crosby appeared clutching a pair of Toys “R” Us bags, filled with a Transformer toy the two had discussed.

“He literally bought every type of this toy they make,” Bullano said. “[Crosby] had never seen it before and thought it was so cool.

“There are no pictures of this. There’s no video. He was laying in the bed with the kid. They were just playing. We were there for over two hours. I got to know the mom really well because we were just sitting there.

“The kid had no idea. Didn’t expect it. They had no idea he was coming. We got there and he said, ‘Hey buddy. hope you don’t mind that I came back.’ The kid couldn’t believe it.

“[Crosby’s] crazy cool about stuff like that.”

What’s crazy is trying to recount the many times stuff like this has happened with Crosby:

• The Little Penguins Learn to Play program has been around for nine seasons, outfitting now 1,200 kids with free head-to-toe hockey equipment. Not only does Crosby serve as the face of the program — which the NHL has now adopted — but he helps fund it, too.

“There’s an awareness of what a person in his position can bring,” Penguins vice president of communications Tom McMillan said. “I think he activates that as much as anybody I’ve seen during his playing career.”

• After a recent practice, Crosby noticed a local family in the Penguins dressing room, approached them, introduced himself, learned their story and wound up giving them a signed stick.

Nobody asked Crosby to do that, and he wanted zero credit when discussing it a couple days later.

“For people who have the opportunity to come in here, people dealing with certain things, if you can brighten their day a bit or spend some time with them, it’s something that’s special for all of us,” Crosby said.

• A few years ago, through a team charity event, Crosby befriended a 4-year-old Amish boy with cancer. Crosby remarked to Bullano how much he loved talking to the boy because of how engaging the boy was and how he wasn’t consumed with technology. Crosby even tried to visit the boy but learned he had passed away.

• He learns the first and last names of the kids who attend his hockey school in Cole Harbour, Nova Scotia.

“Two kids came from Japan its first year,” Bullano recalled. “He was so blown away by that. He couldn’t wait to meet them.”

• Earlier this season, the Penguins welcomed Grant Chupinka, 24-year-old cancer patient, into the dressing room. Crosby chatted up Grant and his parents, Steve and Kim.

He spent his usual time — about two or three times the requirement. Gave the tour. Then found out the Chupinkas didn’t have tickets for that night’s game and decided he would pay for them to go.

“I’m sure he could just give them an autographed puck or something, but he takes his time to go out and see them and talk to them and get to know them,” Brian Dumoulin said. “It speaks volumes for him and who he is as a person.”

Spend any length of time with Crosby during his visits with those less fortunate, and a few things become obvious.

One, Crosby is really good at these. Smooth but not in a slimy way. Sweet. You know how when you’re around someone talking and they go out of their way to make eye contact with everyone around? That’s Crosby.

He’s also humble, always introducing himself like those he’s meeting don’t already know. Holding a hand is no issue. And Crosby is the rare 20-something pro athlete without kids who acts every bit like he does.

“It is not an easy situation to talk to someone with terminal cancer,” McMillan said. “A lot of people couldn’t do that. He has an amazing ability to do that and make that person feel good.”

Crosby has welcomed several Make-a-Wish kids and tries, if at all possible, to schedule such events for practice days — to maximize the time he’s able to spend.

He’s developed a special friendship with Patrick McIlvain, a soldier who nearly died when he took a bullet to the head in Afghanistan. McIlvain actually does physical therapy with one of Crosby’s sticks.

A former club hockey player at Cal U, McIlvain comes by every year, and the Penguins don’t even bother to tell Crosby. Either he already knows or immediately stops what he’s doing to come say hello.

“He’s not doing it to leave a legacy,” said Terry Kalna, Penguins vice president of sales and broadcasting. “His numbers leave the legacy. He’s just a down-to-Earth, good guy.”

Before a visit, Crosby has Bullano email him what is essentially a scouting report on who he’s going to meet. He likes to learn about them, their situation and what they’ve been through. As much information as he can ingest. Crosby never just swoops in, shake a hand and leave.

“As much as anyone has ever seen, he accepts the responsibilities of being not just a professional athlete but a star professional athlete,” McMillan said. “He views it as part of the job. Like coming to the morning skate. That’s just what you do.”

Put another way, “he owns those moments,” says Kalna.

Said Bullano, “He’s just a good human being.”

-When it comes to giving, Sidney Crosby does as much as he can, Feb 2017

6. When Crosby received a generous signing bonus on his Reebok deal, he wanted to share it with everyone.

“He gave everyone on the bus gifts,”  says Oceanic radio commentator Michel Germain. “Him sharing his bonus with all the people he’d been travelling with for two years, that impresses me greatly. I think the most important thing about Sidney Crosby is his personality and the kind of human being he is. What he exuded. The inner richness he’d already developed.” 

-Superstitious and generous, Dec 2006

7. also this simply because it makes me ;w;

Even in defeat — no, especially in defeat — Sidney Crosby proved why he wears the "C" for the Penguins.

After the game, with his heart sinking and his season over, the Penguins’ captain bent over, sank to the ice to pick up the puck, took it to linesman Tony Sericolo and then skated to his team’s handshake line.

I immediately thought of a View from Ice Level I’d written on Crosby making sure a retiring official was sent away from PPG Paints Arena properly. I knew picking up the puck wasn’t for the same reason that was, but I also knew, in some way, it was connected to Crosby’s awareness and respect of the game.

“It was for the Islanders,” Crosby told me after the game, his eyes swollen from a first round exit – by way of a sweep to make it worse. He told me how the winning team always wanted the puck, and it was his way of providing it for the Islanders.

Crosby looked me right in the eye as he told me this, just as he did with every other member of the media to come to him after the loss.

I could tell from those swollen eyes and the way he sat at his stall, by himself with his hands folded as he stared blankly, that Sidney Crosby is much more used to being on the receiving end of a puck when a series ends than he is at retrieving it for the winning team.

That scene. His swollen eyes. Staying in the locker room until most had left – talking to anyone who needed him. Most of all, though, picking up the puck that prompted my question in the first place and making sure the right people got their piece of their own history.

It all adds up to one thing: In victory and in defeat, Crosby respects the game above all else – just as he’s always done.

-Even in defeat, Crosby shines, April 2019

[jortsaaaaaaart]

Three Hearts- Tendou x Reader x Ushijima

Soulmate AU- updates will be posted to https://archiveofourown.org/works/32830702/chapters/81464533

You remembered Sendai as being cold, so, so cold. The summers were short but they were also filled with many days spent exploring. You were part of a binational family. Your mother was from the United States, your father from Japan. Most of your early childhood was spent bouncing between the two countries before, finally, it was decided that the schools in Japan were much (much) better. It wasn’t too much of a culture shock. But the freedom Sendai offered was intoxicating. In Japanese culture it was perfectly acceptable to send your child out on errands, or let them visit the local park, on their own.

It was on one of these after school excursions that you ran into your future best friend. 

A humid June evening had you trailing along the bank of the local river. Cicadas and the current drowned out almost all other noise. You were debating turning back or taking a wade in the water when you saw a shock of red. There was another kid sitting by the river. One with a pretty vibrant bowl cut. However, when you got closer you realised his hair wasn't the only thing that was red.

"Uh, hey." You murmured, feeling more than a little awkward. "Are you okay?" He almost jumped out of his skin. Wide red eyes snapped towards you before hiding away.

The redhead hastily wiped at his eyes. "Y-Yeah."

"That didn't sound all that convincing." With a sigh you plopped down next to him, watching as he curled in on himself. You'd never been one to mind your own business, not even as a child. Seeing someone crying by themselves was an instant invitation for you to barge in and try to help.

"I'm fine."

"You're crying."

"No I'm not!"

"Hmm. . ." You leaned back, looking over the river. "So what's your name then? If you don't tell me I'll just have to call you cry baby."

“. . . It’s Tendou Satori.” He muttered. Tendou was eyeing you warily, like a stray dog afraid to take a treat from a stranger.

"I'm (L/N) (F/N). If you want me to leave I can, but you just looked so sad sitting here alone." You gave him the warmest smile you could before returning your attention to the water. Satori's red eyes stayed locked on you but he didn't ask you to leave. A few moments passed in silent solidarity before he spoke up.

"I'm usually alone."

"I know how you feel." You sighed.

"You do?"

"Well, yeah. I moved around so much before grade school that I don't know anyone here." You paused. "But, hey, now I know you, right?" Your smile made Tendou forget all about the tears. His cheeks flushed pink under the setting sun.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Asked Satori, who desperately wanted to believe you were being genuine. But years of abuse had a hold on his heart.

You blinked. "Why wouldn't I be nice?"

". . . 'Cause I. . . Everyone says I'm a-"

"Ah! Look guys, it's the monster!" A group of children walked up behind the two of you. They were pointing at Satori with mocking grins. "You shouldn't get so close to him, he'll gobble you up!"

"Monster?" You glanced over at him but he was purposefully avoiding your eyes. If possible he would've liked to completely melt into the grass. Away from everything and everybody. But you weren't sinking into the ground, you were rising up. The bullies took a step back as you stomped up the embankment. "What gives you the right to call him that, huh?"

"W-What?" The ringleader stammered. "You've seen him, he's a freak! He shouldn't be allowed near us normal huma-"

He fell to the ground, clutching his cheek. Everyone's eyes were wide and glued to you. 

"Y- You just punched me!?"

"And I'll do it again!" You stared down the boy while his friends helped him to his feet. Before you could say anything else, or fight a 1 v 4, someone grabbed your hand. Tendou dragged you away while you stuck your tongue out at the still stunned bullies. 

Neither of you would ever forget that day. It was the start of a lifelong friendship, and eventually, something more.

On your first year of middle school you officially learned what soulmates were. It was assumed most parents would give you the talk before then, but the school board wanted youths to be prepared. 

"They taught us about soulmates today in class." You were both lounging around in his room reading the newest Shonen Jump. You sat next to him on the bed, trying to keep up with his reading speed.

"Yeah?" You hummed.

"When you turn 18 your soulmate's name appears on your wrist. . . But, if you're older than them you have to wait for their birthday so the marks can appear at the same time. . . And then some people don't even get a soulmate." He wasn't paying attention to the manga anymore. His eyes were fixed to the floor while his brain waged war against itself. Tendou had been sure you were his soulmate since that first night. The butterflies in his stomach still hadn't gone away and every time he looked at you he felt like a pile of mush. 

But, still, the 'I think you're my soulmate.' died on his tongue replaced with something much more depreciating. "I'm probably one of those people. Monsters don't get soulmates after all." His grin was shaky at best and you saw right through it.

"Don't call yourself that." You chided. "And of course you have a soulmate, Tori. Someone out there doesn't know how lucky they are. Soulmates with the best volleyball ball player ever. And the greatest friend ever, too." 

You flopped down, holding your wrist in front of you. "I don't know if I'm excited or nervous."

"Well, it's a good thing, isn't it? Having a soulmate? You'll have someone who belongs with you and will love you no matter what." You pouted at him and he smiled, continuing with his speech. "I can't wait till we turn eighteen. And I know you can't wait either. Even if you're being a baby now."

Tendou had your eighteenth birthday planned out for years. Step one, he'd take you to the river where you met. Step two, shower you with presents and affection. And step three, wait for your soulmate's name, his name, to appear. Step four (profit), live happily ever after. However, like many things in life, it didn't go quite as planned.

On March 21st, right after the end of your final year of junior high, your mother died. It wasn't a shock, she had been sick for months, but the pain was still unbearable. Your mother's side of the family wanted to bury her in the family plot. An old tradition from an old, rural, part of America. Your father gladly handed the responsibility off to them. 

Tendou remembered begging his parents to let him see you off at the airport. He remembered how red and puffy your eyes were, the sad smile on your face when you promised him you'd be back soon. 

But you weren't. 

Your father was in no shape to take care of you. Burying himself in his work to try and forget his loss. February came around and you had your 16th birthday in America. The first year of highschool had started without you. Tendou sent you pictures from Shiratorizawa every day, making you promise to try and get back as soon as possible.

Another February came and went. Your father was getting better and you were slowly but surely convincing him Japan was the right place for you to be. Tendou texted you every day, talking to you about his volleyball matches, his friend Ushijima, how much he missed you. 

It was your third year of highschool and finally, finally, you were heading home. You told Tendou the news as soon as you knew. He seemed even more excited than you. You knew why, even if you didn't say it. Tendou had always been the one you thought of when you imagined your soulmate. But. . . There was something else you couldn't quite put your finger on. The whole thing made you nervous, so you kept your feelings to yourself. 

Tendou stayed up all night on your birthday, hoping, praying. His eyes never left his wrist for a second and finally at 2:45 a.m. , something happened. Your name, in your sloppy, too quick, handwriting, appeared. The relief of ten years of wondering washed over him. He laughed, breathless and giddy. He immediately messaged you, sending you a picture of his wrist before a barrage of messages, most of them legible.

A minute passed by, then ten, then twenty. . .

You had to see it too, right? So why hadn't you said anything? You hadn't called, texted, or, hell, even emailed him. Tendou started to feel his heart sink with each passing moment. 

What if you were disappointed?

Tendou's breath caught in his throat and he could feel his face burn. His phone clattered to the ground as he sank down into his bed. He tried to calm himself down, he didn't know what time it was where you were. Maybe you were out celebrating your birthday or sleeping? He just needed to sleep it off and give you time to respond.

Chest tight, Tendou waited. He waited till hours turned to days and suddenly it was March and his heart was broken. He wasn't sure what was going on at this point. You two had almost never gone a day without talking. But you hadn't read any of his texts or snaps. Eventually he stopped messaging you all together.

But he hadn't given up. He knew you were flying back to Japan soon and he was determined to ask you what the hell was going on.

By mid March you had moved back into your old home. Your father had graciously gotten a moving company for you and your meager belongings. Somehow he failed to show up himself though. You didn't blame him though, he was busy and you haven't been the best company recently. Before leaving America your grandma had begun calling you the walking dead. You were barely sleeping, your eyes were puffy with designer bags hanging heavily underneath. She understood why you were feeling so down and she was empathetic, but the rest of your small town wasn't.

You thought about the timing of it all as you began to unpack. The first box, full of books and notes, was barely empty before the doorbell rang.

Tendou was standing on your doorstep. Your soulmate was standing before you, and your first thought was to shrink back and pretend you weren't home.

He rang the bell again. "(Y/N)! I know you're home! I just. . . I just want to talk okay? . . . Please?"

Tendou stepped back as the door swung open. You were holding your wrist close to your chest, looking anywhere but at him. He could see how red your eyes were, though, and thought they matched his completely.

"Why?" He muttered. One pitiful idiot to another. "Was it so fucking awful? Having my name on your wrist?"

"It wasn't. . ." You started. "Tendou, it wasn't just your name." 

[zmalkarnar1]

What about us? Oikawa x Male Reader

Despite having to be at work at 6am on Monday, spent all Sunday night writing this up. Anyone else unable to get a wink of sleep when an idea gets stuck in their head?

h/c hair color, d/n dogs name, d/t dog type, n/n nickname

Angsty. Also SPOILERS from the manga. If you haven’t read the manga and are only on the anime, there are spoilers ahead. Sorry.  Also pretty long.

What about us?

The snow gently fell towards the ground. Y/n felt a shiver run through his body, but despite the breeze, y/n enjoyed winter and the blanket of snow that covered the city. Indeed, the way it reflected the light never ceased to amaze him.

The h/c was pulled out of his trance by d/n, pulling forcibly on the leash, eager to get to the park and the lure of freedom to run. Y/n gave his dog a quick pat on the head and resumed his stroll towards the park.

He wasn’t the only one out. New years preparation had people shopping, decorating, visiting shrines, and in general enjoying the festive air with friends and family. However, y/n was content enjoying the fresh air that filled his lungs with each breath on his own. Continuing his walk to the city park in peace and quiet y/n sighed in content, d/n pulling on the leash again, wishing for y/n to move just a little bit faster. And when a shrill voice called out to him, y/n momentarily wished that he did indeed move faster. 

“Y/n-chan, is that you!?”

He turned his head towards the voice, recognizing it as his heart skipped a beat.

Tooru? But isn’t he in Argentina? 

“Y/n-chan, it is you!” He called, running across the street to greet his old classmate. 

Oikawa came in for a hug, but rather than meeting y/n he found a d/t leaping up at him. D/n, seeing a chance to make a new friend, and being the attention whore he was, hoped to receive pets and scratches that y/n, at times, can be stingy on. At least from d/n’s point of view. 

Oikawa stumbled as the dog leapt at him again, licking Oikawa’s face. Y/n can do naught but laugh,

“D/n get down!” He called, pulling on the leash a bit to take a hold of the animal, rubbing his sides to get him to calm down.

“Sorry about that Oikawa,” y/n says, still laughing a bit at the brunette.

“No you’re not,” Oikawa pouted.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. D/n just wants some love,” y/n said, still petting the animal, “Anyways, what are you doing here? Moving back from Argentina?”

“No, no, just visiting family and friends for the New Years.”

“I see,” y/n said, trying to feign disinterest.

Y/n’s laughter faded away as d/n was content with the attention he was now getting from his master. Oikawa let his eyes wander and y/n kept his attention on his companion, not knowing what to say to his former boyfriend. It had been years since they last spoke. 

“So...since I’m around,” Oikawa starts, hand running through his hair, a sheepish smile on his face, “maybe we can get lunch together? To catch up?”

Y/n shook his head, “No thanks. I don’t really think I’ll have the time,”

Oikawa’s smile fell from his face. “Oh, sorry to bother you. I guess I’ll see you,”

He begins to turn around, but y/n’s voice stops him in place. “Wait. I just don’t get a lot of free time. But catching up sounds nice. You’re welcome to join d/n and I on our walk.”

Oikawa brightened up immediately, “I was on some errands for my sibling, but his seems more important.” He gives a mischievous smirk and falls in beside you as you continue your way towards the park. 

“I caught all your games at the Olympics, you know,” y/n said, trying to fill the uneasy silence that had sprung between them

“You did!? All of them?” Oikawa asked, his chocolate eyes seeming to glow as he looked at y/n.

“Yea, all of them. I’ve watched all of your games since we were in middle school together…”

Y/n cheered along with the rest of the Seijoh crowd as the freak quick attack of Karasuno’s number ten was slammed back down on their own side of the court. Aoba Johsai won the third set, carrying them further in the Interhigh tournament. The teams shook hands and came to thank the crowd, Y/n’s boyfriend giving him a thumbs up as he approached the line, which y/n returned, smiling and cheering him on. 

Y/n turned to leave the stands. Entering the halls beyond, y/n ran into Oikawa’s arms, squeezing the (shorter/taller) male into a bear hug.

“Congrats babes!”

“Ugh, thanks y/n-chan”

“You were great!” Y/n said, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

Oikawa blushed, still unused to the physical affection y/n gave him right in front of his team. Even two years into their relationship, he could never control his emotions, or stop the blush from rising in his cheeks whenever y/n called him his. Or jumped into his arms. The team just chuckled, some teasing Oikawa as they passed. Iwaizumi just stared blankly at the two of them, unable to comprehend how y/n was able to hand Shittykawa’s nonsense day in and day out. 

“We’re leaving soon trashykawa, so hurry up!” Iwaizumi said before passing by with the rest of the team, leaving Y/n and Oikawa alone in the gym’s hall.

“Thanks for cheering for me n/n. I always play better knowing you’re in the crowd,”

“Oh, Tooru, you know I’d never miss a game! Now you ready for tonight?”

“Well, actually…”

The smile immediately fell from Y/n’s face. He knew what was coming. Tooru was cancelling their date this weekend. For volleyball. Again. Resisting the sigh building in his chest, y/n shook away his disappointment and forced his smile back onto his face.

“It’s okay Tooru. I know you need to focus on volleyball right now,”

“Y/n-chan, I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“You don’t need to explain babes,” Y/n interrupted, “I know how important this is to you, especially since we’re third years. Last chance, right?”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you y/n chan!” Oikawa said, squeezing his boyfriend tight and peppering him with kisses on his check, “I promise we’ll spend all Sunday afternoon together once we win it all!”

Y/n smiled sadly, “Go get em my Lion. Rule the Court!”

Tooru squeezed Y/n into a tight hug once more, forcing the breath out of him and turned to join his team. A few steps away he turned to apologize to Y/n once more, but when he did, the hall was quiet and empty. Tooru walked back towards his team, his eyes set on only one thing; defeating Ushiwaka once and for all. 

Y/n wasn’t able to meet with Oikawa after the Shiratorizawa game, teh team having already left with the coach. Y/n didn’t even head to the cafe for their date. He knew Tooru wouldn’t show up. Instead he strolled up to his house, Oikawa’s mother opening the door before he even had a chance to knock. 

“Ah, there you are Y/n, right on time, as always. He’s upstairs.”

“Thanks,” y/n said, climbing the stairs two at a time. As he entered Tooru’s room, he found his boyfriend curled up in a ball on his bed.

“Tooru?” Y/n called

“Y/n-chan, what are you doing here?” he sniffled. 

“Comforting you. As I always do. Besides, I figured you’d forgotten about our date.”

Tooru  turned towards Y/n, his eyes red and puffy and wide with guilt. He began to sit up, but Y/n sat down on the bed and pulled him back down onto the mattress. Y/m wrapped his arms around Tooru and pulled him close, intertwining their ggs, giving him a quick peck on the forehead. 

“I’m here Tooru. It’s okay,”

Tooru sniffed and pulled Y/n in closer, “I’m sorry, it's just…”

“It’s okay. We can cuddle a bit, then go practice your serves and end with some ice cream if you want. Not the worst date we’ve ever had.” Y/n said, rubbing circles on Tooru’s back, and then get ready to beat Ushiwaka next time.”

“You're the best n/n! I don’t deserve you,”

“I know. And you don’t. You’re lucky you give great cuddles. And you’re cute,” Y/n joked, “but, I’m here for you. I’m here for you.”

Y/n let Tooru cry in his arms, letting his boyfriend vent his frustration and anger, allowing Y/n to hold onto him, to pull the shattered pieces back together. And then Tooru led him to the gym where Y/n chased balls and helped Tooru serve the rest of his frustration and self-doubt away. He spent their entire postponed date on building Tooru back up. Comforting his pain, reassuring him and pushing down the doubts building in his mind, doing everything to assure the volleyball captain that he was not only an amazing player and setter, but a great boyfriend as well. And finally, Y/n got an hour back with his boyfriend when they could take one damned hour away from volleyball and Ushiwaka as they walked hand in hand through the town, enjoying some ice cream as they went. 

And Y/n said that it was okay. He loved Tooru, and despite everything, Tooru loved him. Despite the cancellations, despite his obsession with beating Ushiwaka, and the constant beating himself down, Y/n knew that Tooru was sincere when he said he loved him back. 

“And, what did ya think of the games?” Oikawa asked, excited to hear that, even after all the years, he still had his number one fan watching his back.

“You were amazing. I can see all the hard work paid off. Your game against Japan and those Karasuno blokes was the highlight of the tournament.”

Oikawa nodded, remembering the match against all those who he had sworn to rise above.

“I was actually there for that one, you know,”

“What!? You were?”

Y/n nodded, “It was nice to see you play in person again. Anyways, how is Argentina? Meet anyone special?”

“Argentina is amazing! Best career decision I could have ever made, but what about you? What have you been doing?” Oikawa asked, turning the conversation towards Y/n. Y/n didn’t fail to notice that Oikawa had dodged one of his questions, but he let it pass.

“Oh, I’ve been getting by,” Y/n said as they reached the park. Moving towards the fenced section for dogs, Y/n stepped inside, allowing d/n off of his lease, as there were no other dogs around, and throwing a tennis ball, which d/n gleefully bound after.

“I’ve been working in animation.”

“That’s what you always wanted Y/n! You got your dream too!” Oikawa cheered, patting you on the back,

“It’s not the happy ending though, Oikawa.”

Oikawa looked at you confused. “Wasn’t that your dream? Using your art to help create anime?”

“It was. It is. It’s just,” Y/n sighed, suddenly deflated, and Oikawa took another look at Y/n, but this time he truly saw him. He saw the bags under the h/c eyes and the red of exhaustion and worry that rimmed Y/n’s eyes. He saw the stooped shoulders and y/n’s slouch, as if the world was bearing all its weight down on his friend, and it took everything he had just to force himself out of bed each morning. He saw the fake smile Y/n gave him, to stave off his worry. It was the very same Y/n flashed at him while they were dating, telling him that he was okay, when really he was tearing apart inside. And finally he searched y/n’s eyes once more and noticed how the light inside, which always filled Oikawa with butterflies, was faded and dim.

“Y/n,” he said, barely a whisper, his entire focus now on Y/n, “what happened to you?”

They weren’t together anymore. Y/n didn’t really love him anymore. But under that gaze, beneath the concern and care in Oikawa’s eyes, Y/n broke, a tear beginning to drop from his eyes.

“It’s just,” Y/n let out a deep breath, not even realizing what was about to come out of his mouth, “I work seven days a week. I never have time to take a day off, because if I do, I don’t get paid. You know how much I get paid for my art? You know how much I get paid for dozens of hours of animation? One hundred dollars. One hundred. I have seven different animation projects at any one time, and despite working over seventy hours each week, I can still barely afford rent for a god damned studio apartment, let alone everything else.”

Y/n’s voice raised and as it did, so too did his emotions, and the dam he had built up; it didn’t just crack, it burst. Half-sobbing, half-yelling, he continued, unaware of how much he was holding in or how he was falling apart in front of an ex he had spoken to in years. 

“And d/n has a vet bill coming up, which I know I don’t have money for. And I wouldn’t even have a dog in my situation, but he was my moms, and...well…”

Y/n’s voice trailed off as his tears and sobs became too much for him to speak through. Oikawa put his hand on the h/c’s shoulder. Oikawa had known Y/n’s mother was sick. She had been for years. All throughout high school she battled cancer, teetering back and forth between recovery and death. Oikawa hadn’t realized she had passed away.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry,” Oiwaka said, but his friend couldn’t hear him.

“And, I just couldn’t let him go and…” he choked between sobs, “but I know I don’t give d/n the time he deserves, and I don’t know what to do. I’m angry all the time because I work in an industry worth billions of dollars, but I, and hundreds of other animators, barely get paid for our never ending work to get anime’s out, and now matter what we do or say, nothing ever changes. And some days I just get up and want to quit because I can’t do it anymore. It’s making me hate art and animation. It’s making me hate my dream and I just want to give it all up. I just...just don’t know what to do…”

Y/n slumped to the snow covered ground, his knees giving way. D/n, sensing his owners distress, strolled over to y/n, dropping the ball at his feet. D/n raised his head up against Y/n’s, nuzzling it against him and licking at his tear stained cheeks.

Y/n gave a dry chuckle, “stop d/n,” he said, scratching the dogs ears before standing up, “I’m sorry Oikawa,” Y/n began, wiping away his teams, “I didn’t mean to…”

Y/n didn’t get a chance to finish as Oikawa had pulled him into a close hug, pulling Y/n’s head to his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” Oikawa whispered in his ear, “I’m sorry you’ve had to hold so much on your shoulders alone again. It’s okay. I’m here for you. I’m here for you.”

And much to his embarrassment, Y/n cried into Oikawa’s shoulder, cried in his arms. His mothers death, the sense of hopelessness as he tried to make his way in Japan, the feelings of his dream dying in front of his eyes. Y/n let it all go while Oikawa held him, rubbing his back slowly and whispering to Y/n that he was here, that it was okay. 

A few minutes passed before Y/m pulled away from Oikawa, once again wiping away tears.

“How embarrassing. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean our ‘catching up’ walk to turn into my sob fest,” Y/n chuckled.

“Hey, it's alright. It’s not as if I haven’t done the same to you. It looked like you really needed that. It’s okay.” Oikawa said, stepping back to give Y/n his space. “How long since your mother?”

“Two years.”

“I’m sorry,”

“Thanks,” Y/n said, throwing the tennis ball for d/n once more.

“Your father?”

“He left. I always was his great disappointment.”

“I’m so sorry Y/n,” Oikawa repeated, unsure of what else he can say to comfort his friend.

“It’s okay. I got past that one.”

“And you’ll get past all the rest,”

“I...I don’t know,” Y/n said, looking back down at d/n.

“Hey,” Oikawa said, lifting Y/n’s chin and turning his eyes towards his own, “The Y/n I know doesn’t give up that easily, not after what you’ve been through.”

Y/n gave him that ghost smile once more, but before he could speak, Oikawa continued.

“So here's what we can do. You clearly need some help,” Oikawa said, sticking his tongue out at Y/n and pulling down on the skin below his eye, “So I’m going to help you.”

“Oikawa, I’ll be fine…”

“Be quiet Y/n!” Oikawa said, his voice high and childish, just like back in high school, “We’re gonna get some exercise running with d/n. Then we’re going to the store and buying some food. You will graciously invite me over for dinner and we’re going to have a good time.”

“Oikawa, I have work to do tonight,” Y/n protested

“What’d you say? I couldn’t hear you,”

“Oikawa,” Y/n said with a growl

“Doesn’t sound like an invite to me,”

Y/n sighed, “Oikawa...you’re not going to stop, are you?”

“Nope.” he said with his stupid, adorable grin on his face, “but really, I wasn’t there for you in high school, not like I should have been. I’m going to be here for you now, as your friend.”

“Just as a friend, right?” Y/n asked to clarify

“Don’t worry, just as a friend,” Oikawa said, putting his arm around Y/n, “Now let’s play with d/n already,”

They stayed in the park for over an hour, playing with d/n, running him to make up for lost exercise. For the first time in what felt like years Y/n laughed, truly, freely laughed. Mainly at Oikawa being an idiot. But Y/n knew he was doing it for him.

And Oikawa, each time he was able to pull a laugh from Y/n, but slipping in the show and having d/n trample him, or reminiscing about times they pissed off Iwa-chan, could feel the blood pumping through his body, his heart pounding in his chest. It wasn’t what they were, but it was something. The awkward air between them when Oikawa first approached had dispersed like dust in the wind, and they were friends again. It was enough. 

Keeping his promise, Oikawa dragged Y/n to the store and went inside, shopping for their dinner (and then some, much to Y/n’s chagrin), and followed Y/n home.

D/n collapsed on his bed right away, falling asleep, content with the day’s excitement. Y/n just looked around his tiny apartment and sighed once more, having forgotten about the disaster he called home.

“Sorry for the mess.”

“Wow. Y/n, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a piece of clothing on your floor before, and now...I don’t know where to begin,” Oikawa teased.

He was right. Y/n was always organized, meticulous, and immaculate, but the stress of the past year had taken a toll on Y/n. Work stuff overed the small table and dest in the room, and the two chairs as well. Clothing, probably dirty, was strewn about the room, dirty dishes and half eaten meals covered the remaining space. And the small bed in the corner was a mess of sheets, pillows and half folded clothing.

“It's been a tough year and a half,” Y/n muttered. 

“Well, we’re going to forget about that tonight. Clean yourself up and I’ll start our dinner.”

“Since when could you cook?” Y/n teased

“Just go get cleaned up!” Oikawa ordered

` Y/n nodded. There was no point arguing anymore either. His small apartment had a main room, where his entire life was stored with a small kitchenette, and then a tiny bathroom with a shower. 

Y/n turned on the hot water and stepped in, wondering what he had just gotten himself into. He hadn’t meant to break down in front of his ex like that. He hadn’t meant to bring him home for dinner either. It wasn’t that Y/n didn’t like Oikawa anymore, but he just couldn’t get involved again. Stepping out of the shower he resolved to keep his feelings hidden and returned to his one room, seeing Oikawa scanning through his work. 

“I thought you were making dinner,” Y/n said, making Oikawa jump.

“Uh, I am. Sorry, I just saw some of your work, and then kept looking.”

“I see.”

“It’s amazing. You really don’t get paid for this?” he asked

“Doesn’t feel like it. Here, let me show you some of the animation work I do,” Y/n said, opening his laptop.

Y/n spent the next few minutes showing off his animation work on scenes from a growing new anime that was rapidly gaining popularity. 

“And you work at least seventy hours a week and still barely make enough? What assholes,” he says, being angry for you.

“Yea. Some nights I fall asleep at the desk. Iwa-chan says I overwork myself so much that I’m hurting my body. Sound familiar?” Y/n asked.

“We’re both two stars lost in the universe, hurting ourselves in order to shine with our dreams.” Oikawa gave Y/n a sad smile, “You hang you with Iwa-chan often?”

“Not really. No time. Not since the just after the Olympics a few months ago. Anyways, dinner.”

“Yes, yes, I’m on it.” 

“Sorry again for the mess. And the lack of space,” Y/n said, clearing off the chairs

“No worries. I’m actually used to it,” 

“You are?”

“Yea. When I first got to Argentina, well it was rough. I didn’t know the language and had almost no money at the start. The first two years I lived just like this. And to top it all off I overworked myself. A lot. I have to learn to take care of myself.”

“Did you? Learn I mean? Doesn’t sound like you.” Y/n teased, his old smile finally emerging from its slumber.

“Nor really,” Oikawa admitted, “But I’m doing much better now. Caught a good break and even met the Karasuno shrimp in Brazil. That actually really helped. And well, now I’m doing alright.”

“You’re an Olympian. I’d say you’re a sight better than alright,” Y/n pointed out.

“It wasn’t always easy, ya know. People don’t realize what we sacrifice.”

“I know, sorry. I didn’t mean to brush aside your struggles.”

“I just want you to know, it will get better. I believe in you.”

Y/n’s true smile faded, and the ghost he’d become resurfaced. He nodded anyways, nor really wanting to talk anymore about it. He’d already cried far too much for his liking today as it was, in front of Oikawa no less. And as Oikawa served the food, they ate dinner in silence, the unease from before returning like a storm cloud that just wouldn’t pass through.

“Thanks Oikawa,” Y/n mumbled as they finished, “I’ll clean this up,”

“Nonsense, I’ll do it. You relax. Is there anything else I can do for you,” Oikawa asked, winking at the end.

Y/n suddenly tensed. The last thing he wanted was Oikawa attempting to flirt with him right now.

“Jeez, calm down, I’m joking,” Oikawa said when he noticed Y/n tense up, “I said as a friend, and I meant it.”

True to his word, Oikawa cleaned and they hung out. Sharing stories, reminiscing on their days at Seijoh. And never once did Oikawa overstep his bounds or overstayed his welcome. Never once did he try to flirt, never once even asked or expected more for what he did for Y/n. Oikawa had grown, and for a moment, Y/n was really glad Oikawa was there for him, as his friend.

“Do you ever wonder how things would’ve turned out if you went with me?” But of course, in typical Oikawa fashion, he just had to ruin the moment. Maybe he hadn’t grown that much after all. But then, maybe Y/n hadn’t either, as his guard had to slip at that exact moment.

“Oh, Tooru…” Y/n said fondly, a weary look in his eyes.

After the loss to Shiratorizawa, Tooru threw himself back into volleyball with a fire that burned so hot, it threatened to consume the boy who possessed it. Y/n went to every game, even practice when he could. Tooru had a dream. Tooru needed Y/n and Y/n loved him. But Y/n needed Tooru too.

Y/n’s mother fell ill again, and his father was less than pleased with his son. The stress built until Y/n collapsed in class, in a puddle of exhaustion and tears. It was only then, after months of suffering that Tooru even noticed his boyfriend's pain, his terror. Tooru carried him to the infirmary. It was then he saw the fear and fatigue in his beloved’s eyes. Guilt overwhelmed him. They spent the weekend together, and for once, Toorus was there, entirely and completely for Y/n. With Tooru, he could pull himself through.

But Oikawa Tooru had a one track mind. Volleyball and rising above his nemesis, Wakatoshi Ushijima; nothing else could compete for space in his mind. Missed dates and meetups, waiting at the school gates for an hour, only to walk home alone and miserable. Y/n suffered, but knew that, despite everything, Tooru sincerely loved him.

Tooru always apologized. He was so sincere. He never meant to forget, to hurt Y/n, and he always made it up to him. A nigher here, a lunch there. But Oikawa was so singularly focused that it never lasted long. Y/n had to beg, or be on the verge of collapse for his boyfriend to momentarily let go of his obsessions with volleyball to focus solely on their relationship. But it was only ever for a fleeting moment. 

Then Y/n’s mother’s health declined again, and as it all piled up on Y/n’s back like gravity forcing him down to earth from orbit, he burned up and broke apart. He couldn’t take it all anymore. He couldn’t help his mother, or change his abusive father, but he could take the stress of their relationship out of his life. However, that very next day, Aoba Johsai fell to Karasuno in the prefecture tournament for Spring Nationals, and a run down, broken Oikawa made his way to Y/n’s home. Still sobbing, Y/n led Oikawa to his room and helped him as he did all those times before. Maybe now that it was finally over, they could fix their relationship. But that was naive. 

Y/n sat in the cafe, glaring at his phone, as if he was wishing he could stop the clock from turning. Maybe he hoped that it was running fast. But it wasn’t. Oikawa was late. Again. Y/n sipped at his hot cocoa as a tear slipped from his eyes.

 It was supposed to be better. Volleyball was over. It was supposed to be easier. Y/n thought. But every time he...I can’t do this anymore.

“That idiot.”

Y/n jumped at the angry growl and looked up to see Iwaizumi standing next to his table.

“Iwa-chan? What are you doing here?” Y/n asked

“Shittykawa is an idiot.”

“He’s not coming...is he?” Y/n asked, though he didn’t need to. He already knew the answer.

“He was only supposed to practice for ten more minutes. I was on my way home, but then wanted to check in on you. To make sure he got here.”

“Thanks Iwa-chan. Is he still at the gym?”

“Probably, knowing him. I’ll whack him good for you tomorrow.”

“No need Iwaizumi. We’re done.” Y/n said, getting up and brushing past Iwaizumi

“I’m sorry Y/n,”

“Thanks for letting me know, Iwa-chan.”

Y/n took to the street, turning back towards Aoba Johsai, his blood pumping furiously through his veins. As he approached the gym, he could still see the lights on, and as he made it to the doors, he heard the tell tale sound of a volleyball pounding against the gym floor. Y/n entered, not even trying to hold in his tears.

Oikawa didn’t even turn, “I’m almost down Iwa-chan, don’t worry.”

“I’m not Iwaizumi,” Y/n sniffled.

Oikawa heard Y/n’s trembling voice, his sniffles, and turned with a look of pure horror and guilt on his face, the voice jolting the forgotten promise of a Friday night date; cafe, dinner, movie, and cuddles. He rushed over to Y/n, apologies rushing out of his mouth, and tried to embrace his boyfriend. But Y/n shoved him away before he couldn. Hard. And Oikawa stumbled back.

“Y/n?” 

“Again Tooru. You forgot again! You don’t even have a tournament coming up and you still forget me for volleyball!” The venom in Y/n’s voice ripped through Oikawa.

“But Y/n, I still need to practice,” he argued.

“Is that practice more important than me? Than my feelings? What about what I need?”

“Y/n-chan, that’s not fair…”

“No!” Y/n screamed, jabbing his finger into Oikawa’s chest, “You don’t get to do that. I’ve accepted cancelled dates and rainchecks. No matter how hard I try, the plan is somehow always rearranged. I’ve been there for you, for three years. Every win. Every loss. I spent dates helping you practice. You don’t get to do that. It’s not fair that you can’t take one moment for me unless I literally collapse!”

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” Oikawa said, and the sincerity in his voice, in his eyes, tugged at Y/n’s heart. But he forced himself on. 

“I know you are. But I can’t do it anymore. My mother is still sick. My father is a homophobic ass. You are supposed to be my escape, my pillar too, just like I’ve been for you. But I find myself ever more stressed because of you. I can’t stop worrying about if you’re going to grace me with your presence for oncfe. I can’t do it anymore. You are so obsessed with volleyball, with beating Ushiwaka, that you don’t see anything else through your tunnel vision. You don’t see the blood and tears left behind in your rampage. I can’t do it anymore,” Y/n screamed through his sobs at the end. It was over.

“Y/n, I can’t choose between you and volleyball, I love both. I need both,” Oikawa said, tears beginning to glisten in his chocolate eyes. 

Y/n took a deep breath and pulled his temper back under reign. “I know, Oikawa, I know.”

Oikawa flinched at the use of his last name. That hadn’t happened since before they were dating. 

“I know. It’s your dream. You can’t give that up.”

“I love you too, n/n”

“I know Oikawa, I believe you do. But clearly you can’t do both. We;re done. I need to do what’ve best for me right now. You’ll be fine.”

Y/n turned to walk out, but Oikawa had grabbed his wrist. Angry e/c glared at Oikawa.

“Let go.” Y/n hissed, pulling away from Oikawa and storming out the gym doors. Oikawa followed him out, only to see Y/n crying in Iwaizumi’s arms.

“You moron,” was all he said before turning to walk Y/n home. 

“I’m leaving.”

A cold, early spring breeze, pushed its way across the park, and Y/n shivered. Yet it wasn’t for the cold. He ran his hands through his h/c locks and looked at everything but the boy in front of him. He noticed the new buds on the trees, and the hint of green pushing out of the thawed ground. Spring was always his favorite season; new life, new beginnings, a chance to start anew. His gaze moved up towards the clouds passing overhead. 

“I know” Y/n said

“And?”

“And what?” Y/n responded back, tone devoid of any feeling

“What about us?”

“What about us, Oikawa?”

“I still love you Y/n,”

“What do you want me to say Oikawa? That I’ll jump on a plane with you, to Argentina? Leave everything behind? Even if I wanted to, what would I do? Sit in your apartment, waiting for you to come home? After how you treated me?

They were on speaking terms again. It had taken a few months, but Y/n was willing to be in the same room as Oikawa again, at least as long as someone else was there. But this was the first they’ve been alone. 

“I...I,”

Y/n sighed and pushed down his love that still shone for the brunette. Despite everything, Oikawa was always honest and sincere.

“I know. I believe you do. But am I supposed to leave my sick mother? No Oikawa, this is it.”

“I’m sorry,”

“It’s a little late for that. I need to get home. Good luck, Oikawa.”

“Do you ever think of…”

“Oh, Tooru…” Y/n stopped as the name slipped from his lips, hoping Oikawa didn’t notice. Oikawa’s eyes widened in surprise at the use of his first name, but carried on as if nothing happened.

“I do, sometimes. When volleyball isn’t going well, I think of that moment in the park.”

“Honestly,” Y/n admitted, “so do I.”

Oikawa perked up.

“But, really, what would’ve happened. I’d have no job, nothing to do, nothing but to wait for you, and we both know how that went.” 

“You’re right. I know it. Doesn’t mean I don’t think about it.”

“I know,” Y/n said, “and I’m not angry at you. Well, I was, and I was very hurt. But I know that volleyball was always going to claim the larger piece of your heart, and with everything going on, I just couldn’t do it. We had different lives I guess. But I’m not mad any more.”

“Thanks. For not being angry anymore,” Oikawa said, perking up a moment later, “Anyways, let's put in a movie we can laugh at and then we’ll have a sleepover, just like the good old days. Don’t worry, I’ll sleep on the floor.” 

“Oikawa, we’re…”

“Just friends, I know, but do you really want to be alone tonight?”

Y/n shook his head, “Not really. Thanks...Tooru.” 

Just as Tooru promised, they laughed with a good movie, and Y/n felt his stress melt away for the first time in nearly a year, all his adult worries fading away with the sound of Oikawa’s voice. And just as he said, he never tried to push past being only friends. If Tooru still felt the same, he hid it well. All except his chocolate eyes which gave him away, gazing a half a second too long on the male. 

Morning came, and after Tooru made them a full breakfast, the two took d/n back to the park for his morning walk.

“I’m heading back to Argentina tomorrow.”

“I guess this is it then…”

“You know, my offer still stands.”

“To go with you?” Y/n asked.

“Yes. You mentioned last night that during the pandemic that you worked mostly from home. You could do the same in South America.”

“And what else Tooru? I’m not sure I want to leave Japan. Besides, I’d only end up on the back burner to volleyball. No. I won’t go.” Y/n said, his eyes determined.

“I understand. It was silly to ask. Give me your phone though,”

“Why?” Y/n asked, handing over the device.

“There,” Oikawa said after typing in a set of numbers, “You have my new number. We can keep in touch, and talk when things get too real, as friends. And I can curse out your awful bosses for you.”

“I could do that.” Y/n said, his smile returning from the graveyard it had been lost to for so long.

“And during the off season you can come visit me. You and Iwa-chan both.”

“Tooru, you know I can’t get the time off.”

“Don’t care. You’re gonna visit. Or I’ll tell Iwa-chan how beat down you actually were and he’ll drag you by your ear to the airport.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Y/n challenged

“Try me,” Oikawa said, sticking his tongue out at Y/n, pulling up Iwaizumi’s number on his phone.

“Fine, fine, just don’t call him. I’ll try to visit, okay?”

“Good. I should get home though. I never did tell my family I’d be out all night. It was good to see you Y/n.”

“It was. And thank you. I needed this.”

“Anytime, it’s what any good captain would do,” Tooru said, turning to walk away

“And Tooru?”

“Yea?”

Y/n’s eyes were glued towards the ground, a slight blush rising on his face. “Oh, nothing, nevermind.”

“You’re blushing like a schoolgirl and you think I’m going to let this go. Tell me.” He said, stepping closer to Y/n.

“I...I won’t wait for you. But if the day ever comes when there is space in your heart, and we’re both still wandering through this world alone...well, maybe we could try again…” Y/n said, looking up and meeting Oikawa’s gorgeous chocolate eyes. 

Oikawa nodded, giving Y/n one last final hug before heading back home, and eventually to where his heart really rested; his volleyball team, and Y/n, back to his apartment, with a new outlook and determination to build on his dream.

Sorry this was so long. Also was originally supposed to be an Oikawa x Male Reader x Iwaizumi, but clearly that didn’t happen. Story kind of took over itself.

Also, if you don’t know, animators in Japan are actually living in poverty despite the industry being so damn lucrative. They barely get paid anything for their art, so most of the people creating your favorite anime’s are barely making it by. If you don’t know much on it, here’s a Nytimes article that talks a bit about it. 

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/02/24/business/japan-anime.html

Might be a part II. Don’t know, depends on if inspiration hits in the middle of the night forcing me to write. 

[jaehyunspeachparty]

1.13

warnings: This story contains content that could be problematic for one or the other. Among other things, the story may contain content about sex, rape, late pregnancy, relationship with a large age difference, and others. Just because it's in the warnings doesn't mean these topics will appear, but they will definitely be covered in the story. The content of the story is fixed and doesn’t change. If you don't feel comfortable with these topics, then it's okay if you don't read the story. I just write down my ideas here and I just enjoy writing about life. The fact that some things in life are not rational or weird for some people is also part of it.

Miga was still with SM because her friend Dae will have her debut soon and she wanted to comfort her. Dae had also been with SM for a long time, namely since she was 13 years old. Dae and Miga grew up together in the company and they have been friends since then. Dae had her first recording that day and she was so nervous that Miga came over to support her. The producer was also relatively young, but everyone was enthusiastic about him. His name is Para and he was 23 years old. "So, can we start?" Para asked when he came into the studio, but when he saw Miga he turned interested to her. "Hey, didn't I notice something? I thought you were an actress." He winked and Miga waved it off. "Yeah, singing is not my thing. I'll go." She hugged Dae tightly and whispered encouraging words in her ear. Then she said goodbye and left the studio. It was Saturday and therefore a lot more less people in the company. The corridor was empty and Miga felt more and more uncomfortable. Her heart started beating faster for no reason. Suddenly a man came out of the room and was walking along the corridor. Miga could barely breathe, she became more and more panicked and tried to walk quickly to the exit. But with her high heels she was slower. The next moment the door next to her went up and surprisingly Hyunjin stand in front of her. He grinned happily, because due to his tight schedule, the two hardly had time to see each other. "Hey Miga!" He walks up to her and wanted to talk to her, but Miga was no longer with herself. She fell completely into a panic attack. With big eyes she looked at Hyunjin for a second, but she didn't see him anymore, she saw in him the men she wanted to rape her a week ago. She could no longer see reality and she had the feeling that she could no longer breathe. She ran off without saying anything. And she can't quite remember, but at one point she sat in her car and locked the doors. She put her hands on the steering wheel and rested her head on it. She breathes in and out deeply. Her trauma is still deep inside her. Her panic attack was only slowly subsiding. Her hands were shaking and she was still dizzy. She quickly took her bottle and took a quick gulp of water. She leaned back and took a deep breath as her pulse settled again. Was that a trauma that she couldn't push away so easily?

Sunoh was home all day doing what he looked forward to all day. At the weekend he facetimed with Chichi for a long time, who has been in Japan for a week now. "I'm pretty nervous. A week of training is very little." Chichi made her first show that evening. It's a charity performance and the new ballet dancers introduce themselves. "I'm sure you can do it." Sunoh looked dreamily into the screen and he wished he could travel to her immediately. He wants to be there for her, support her and maybe other things. Sunoh kept wandering in thoughts ... but certain thoughts ... adult thoughts ... and he was ashamed of them. Chichi was so cute, beautiful and innocent and he had these dirty thoughts. "What are you doing today?", Chichi asked and looked at Sunoh with her dark eyes. "Johnny and Irene have invited us all. There is a party and I think there will be an announcement." "Ahhh yes, Dad told me about it. I wish I could be there." She sighed and looked a little sad. "You won't miss a thing. It's going to be super boring." Sunoh hadn't felt like anything since Chichi was gone. He's just waiting until he can finally talk to Chichi on the phone. "But I'd rather be with you," Sunoh admitted and his cheeks turned red. Chichi's face also turned red and her heart began to beat faster. "I wish I could be with you too," she admitted and Sunoh's heart softened. He would like to fly to her on the next plane, hug her, kiss her and ... Sunoh pressed his lips together. His hormones were driving him crazy and his thoughts were only more about one thing. Sometimes he didn't even know what was wrong with him. "I really want to see you during the Christmas break. But Mum wanted us to visit Audrey in Switzerland and I should come with them. But I'm still trying to persuade her." "No, visit your aunt and your cousins. You see them less than me." Chichi didn't want him to neglect his family because of her. "But I don't want to go to Switzerland, I want to see you. Only Mum doesn't want me to be alone in another country." He sighed and he thought he was old enough to travel alone, but you didn't want to leave him alone. "It's okay, I'll be back soon." Chichi didn't want him to get in trouble just because of her. "Chichi! You have to go," someone in the background suddenly calls the small girl. She had to end the phone call with Sunoh for the fitting. The two of them always had a hard time parting, but there was no other way because Chichi had to go and Sunoh was alone in his room again.

You put on earrings and get ready for the party for Johnny when Jaehyun walked into your bathroom. He's got a little bag that he puts down and then hugs you from behind and kisses you. "Hey, how was the photo shoot?" You ask him. He had to get up early and still had to work a little. "Fine, but I've been excited all day." He smiled and gently stroked your hip. "Me too. Is it in there?" You point to the bag and he nodded. You then grab something and look at him. "I'm over 2 weeks, which is actually a good sign." You were holding a pregnancy test and your heart was pounding with excitement. You hadn't had your period for over 2 weeks and you both now had hope of conceiving. You didn't want to take the test until tomorrow, but you both wanted a child so badly that you couldn't wait. "I'm positive." Jaehyun was excited too, sometimes you thought he wanted a child more than you. "Okay I'll do it." You unpack the test and then sit on the toilet. Jaehyun sat down on the bathroom floor across from you. "You look beautiful," he said with a grin. "Jaehyun, I'm peeing right now", you had to laugh but concentrate on the test. You put the cap on it and get dressed again. You wash your hands and sit down with Jaehyun. He put his arms around you and both of you look excitedly at the test. "Imagine we have another girl after all the boys. Then we started with a girl and we finish with a girl." Jaehyun hugged you tight and put his chin on your shoulder. "Don't be too hasty. Let's wait and see the result." You smile and stare at the test. "I know, I know. But I would still like a girl." Jaehyun kissed you and you have to smile. It reminded you of the time you tried to have a second child. You didn't do a pregnancy test with the twins, so it was more of a surprise. "See the result will be displayed immediately." You pick up the test and you could feel Jaehyun's pulse. You couldn't wait to see the result and you almost ran out of breath. It only takes a few seconds and then there is the result 

... not pregnant...

You stare at the test, you couldn't believe it. You were so sure of yourself. You really thought you were pregnant. Jaehyun saw that you stopped moving. He took the test out of your hands and set it aside. He hugged you tight and stroked you. But you were so disappointed you just couldn't believe it. "I am sorry." You suddenly start crying because you couldn't hide your disappointment. You feel like a failure, like you couldn't do what your body was made to do. "Don't blame yourself. We'll manage it." Jaehyun pressed your head to his chest and you couldn't stop sobbing. "I'm too old, we should have started having a baby earlier." "Y/N, it could be up to me too. We don't know. Don't blame yourself. We have other options." Jaehyun tries to cheer you up, but you were so sad. You cry and cry and cry. Jaehyun had you tight in her arms and you are sitting there on the bathroom floor trying to process it all. But then suddenly the door opened and Geon came in. "Mum, when are we going? .... OH!" He saw his parents sitting on the floor and his mother crying. "Is everything okay?" He asked and didn't know what to say. "Is Miga there yet?" Jaehyun asked and Geon nodded. "Okay, we'll be down in a moment. Give us a few more minutes." Jaehyun looked at his son, who nodded.

Geon went back down to the entrance where Sunoh, Miga and Kiwoo were already standing. "And where are they?" Asked Miga and looked curiously at her little brother. "Mum is crying ..." Geon said, very shocked. "She's crying?" Asked Sunoh in surprise. "Why is Mum crying?" Asked Kiwoo, surprised and also worried. "I don't know, but Dad doesn't look too good either," Geon said, shrugging his shoulders. "Shit ..." Miga looked sadly into the room. "What? Do you know why they're sad?" Asked Sunoh. "I think mum isn't pregnant again. I heard them talking about it the other day, that they think it worked now." Miga sighed and leaned against the wall. The siblings became quiet and didn't know what to say. "It's best if you all drive with me in the car and we'll give Mum and Dad a little time together. Or what do you think?" Suggested Miga, and everyone agreed. At that moment you came down with Jaehyun. Your eyes were still all red, but you are trying to collect yourself. "Shall we go?" Asked Jaehyun and looked at his children. "Yes, Sunoh, Kiwoo and Geon are going with me. Is that okay?" Miga smiled gently and you nod. "Okay, go then." Miga pushed her brothers into the garage and they got into the car.

"Can you do it?" Jaehyun asked as he drove off and he put a hand on your thigh. "Yeah, distraction is good. How are you?" You look at your husband who is focused on the street. "I'm really sad, but I'm looking forward to a nice party with good friends." Jaehyun smiled gently and you were calmer by now. "Sunoh thinks that Johnny is going to announce something. Do you think he has something to announce?" You ask and look curiously at Jaehyun, but he shrugged his shoulders. "I really don't know. Johnny is so random sometimes." "Maybe he married Irene. I think she wanted that." "That may well be, as I said, Johnny is acting sometimes randomly." The journey doesn't take long and they were there. Miga and the boys arrived at the same time and the whole family got out. "Mum, you look good," Miga said honestly and put her arm around you. You knew she wanted to cheer you up and you were grateful to her for that. "Thanks my darling, you look gorgeous too." You kiss her hair and go to the house with her. Kiwoo rang the bell and Johnny immediately opened the door. "Hey, welcome. Come in." He took a step aside so that everyone could come in.

In the meantime, Sunoh goes to Jaina and sits down next to her. "Hey," she said, turning to him. "Hey," he sighed and leaned back. "Are you okay?", She asked surprised, but she already had a guess what could be. "Yes everything fine." Sunoh wasn't ready to tell others that he was into Chichi. "And with you?", He then asked her, but Jaina shrugged her shoulders. "Let's talk about it later after Dad makes his announcement." She sighed and Sunoh nodded. He knew that Johnny had a reason to invite everyone. Then Jaina suddenly got up and went to the bar. She poured a shot of rum into her Coke, but Miga saw it. "Jaina, what are you doing?" She admonished her. "I only drink cola." She grinned and took a long swig. "You are 14 years old, you are still too young for alcohol. Throw that away now or I have to tell Johnny." Miga was worried about Jaina, she had already met her drunk and she didn't want anything bad to happen to her. Jaina finish her drink in one gulp and grinned. "Nobody cares anyway." She shrugged her shoulders. "But everyone is interested and I am interested," Miga tried to be there for her, but Jaina was too prepubertal. "Oh, really? Or do you want to act like a big sister to me too? You just want to show everyone your perfect life. You never make mistakes." Jaina rolled her eyes and sighed. "That's not true. I make mistakes ...", but Jaina turned away and didn't want to listen to her any more. She didn't understand what Jaina had against her lately, but the girl had something. "All right?" She suddenly heard and when she turned around she saw her mistake. Jaemin. "Yes and with you?" She asks with a smile. "Yes, but I wanted to ask you ..." But before Jaemin could continue speaking, Johnny's voice grew loud. "Can I just ask for your attention?" He stepped into the middle of the room and took Irene by the hand. With a big grin she followed him until they were in the middle of the room. In the meantime everyone was there, almost all NCT members with their families. The house was full, but everyone was staring at Johnny intently. "I want to keep it short, but the reason I invited you all today is ..." He paused and put his arm around Irene. He looked deeply into her eyes and smiled. "We are engaged. We are going to get married," shouted Johnny and Irene held up her finger with the engagement ring. Suddenly it got loud in the room, many walked up to them and Sunoh looked at Jaina in suprise. She stood and stared at her father and stepmother. Tears stood in her eyes and at some point she couldn't look at it anymore and ran out of the house. Sunoh followed her and held her tight. "Jaina ... wait. What's wrong?", Sunoh asked and looked at her. "Dad still loves Mum ..." She looked sadly at the floor and began to sob softly. Jaina was suddenly so small, so vulnerable. "What?" Sunoh was surprised and didn't quite understand anything. "Dad was at Mum's a few days ago and told about the engagement. I overheard...I shouldn't have, but Dad said he still loves Mum. But Mum doesn't want to take him back." Jaina started crying because all she wanted was her parents to get back together. She had no problem with Irene, but she wanted her parents to be a couple again. "Jaina ... I'm sorry." He took Jaina in his arms and that was all she needed.

Miga fled meanwhile from all the chaos. It was all too much for her. She had other problems. Hyunjin wrote to her and asked what was going on. She doesn't know what to say. Her heart was racing and everything indicated she was going to have a panic attack. She quickly runs into the bathroom and leans on the sink. She took a deep breath when she suddenly hears a familiar voice. "All good?" Jaemin stood by the door and looked at her worriedly. Miga was shocked briefly, but she smiled when she saw him. "Yes everything fine." Of course she lied, but she still didn't want Jaemin to tell her parents about the incident. "I feel like you are lying to me." He stood in front of her and looked down at her. Miga looked up at him and she felt all the tension. She knew that he wanted it, that he felt more for her. Her dark and large eyes were fixed on his. Jaemin was completely captivated by her. He hardly realized what was happening and what he was doing. But now it was Miga who acted. She longed for his attention. So she stood on her tiptoe and kissed Jaemin briefly and gently. Then she stopped and waited for his reaction. Jaemin pressed his lips together and tried to collect himself, but everything in him contracted. He suppressed his longing for Miga for so long and her lips suddenly felt like the release. And now he was getting greedy. He wanted her closer, deeper, more intense. He suddenly grabbed her, pressed his body against her, and kissed her. This kiss was no longer gentle, it was passionate. Miga felt his groin press against his hip and he then lifted her up to put her on the counter next to the sink. Their lips were tight together. Miga moaned softly and that made him even wilder. He put his hands on her thighs and ran his hands up and under her dress. Miga felt how everything in her vibrated, how wet she was. She had longed for such a passion and Jaemin was the perfect lover. And Miga meanwhile pressed her middle closer to him and put her hands tightly around his neck. And the next moment the door opened. However, the two did not check it in time. And they were still in the process of making out. Then they only heard a startled sigh and when the two looked over, they saw Renjun. He looked at the two in shock and immediately ran away. "Shit", Jaemin swore and let go of Miga to run after him. He had to make sure he wasn't telling anyone. Renjun noticed that Jaemin was following him and he went into the garden to talk to him. "JAEMIN! FUCK! I knew it was Miga! What did I advise you 2 months ago?" Renjun couldn't believe it. "You don't get it ..." Jaemin tries to explain himself. "What do I not understand, that I caught you making out with Jaehyun's 19 year old daughter? THIS IS CRAZY!!!! What if I hadn't got in the way? What would have happened then?" "Nothing would have happened," Jaemin said, but Renjun shook his head. "Your hands! They were under her dress. Fuck Jaemin! I never thought you were stupid, but that's really stupid!" Renjun was so upset and didn't know what to think. "I can't do anything ... she's just ..." "She is Jaehyun's daughter! AND SHE IS 19!!!!", Renjun interrupted him and Jaemin just stared at him. "Please don't tell Jaehyun," pleaded Jaemin. "Are you going to keep your fingers off of her?" Renjun then asked and Jaemin had to hesitate. "She's grown up, she knows what she's doing," said Jaemin then. "She can't judge. Do I have to tell you everything again? She always looks up to you. She is still a child in this regard." "Miga is more mature than you think." "It doesn't matter because she is Jaehyun's daughter!" Renjun shook his head and saw Miga watching them from the house. "I don't know what to do," Jaemin was really desperate. He was so at odds himself. Renjun saw the despair in his friend and became calmer. "Is it love or lust?", Renjun then asked him and Jaemin looked at him in surprise. "What?" "Are you sure you love her? Or is it just the desire for something forbidden." Renjun crossed his arms and Jaemin couldn't tell. "Find that out, and as long as you think about it I won't say anything to Jaehyun," Renjun said and Jaemin nodded. "Thanks ..." Jaemin said quietly and Renjun just nodded. "Well, let's go in."

Jaemin now sat later far away from Miga. He couldn't look at her because everything was still tightening inside him. He still smelled her scent, still felt her bare skin on his hands. He didn't know how long he could stay here. "Hey Jeno, I have a question." Jeno turned to him and smiled. "Yeah sure." "How can I tell the difference between love and lust?" Jaemin then asked. "Why do you ask that? Is there a girl?" Jeno winked and had to laugh, but Jaemin was nervous. "I've told you about her before." "Ah, the 19 year old?" Jaemin nodded. "Do you think you love her or are you wondering if it wouldn't be exciting to sleep with a 19 year old?" Jeno had to laugh. "Yes. No. I mean ..." Jaemin struggled for words, it was hard to explain it all. "It's okay. When was the last time you had sex?" Jeno asked soberly. "Does mastrubation count too?" "No. I mean with a woman." Jeno looked seriously at his friend and Jaemin thought about it. "Hmm I don't know. Maybe before last spring?" After breaking up with his ex-girlfriend, he wanted nothing to do with women for a while. "Last spring? It's December!" Jeno was shocked and looked at him in surprise. "Okay okay. I see the problem. Maybe you just need to sleep with someone who isn't the mysterious 19 year old girl." "What do you mean by that?" Jaemin asked. "Well, that way you can tell whether it's just lust or love. Maybe you just need real sex again. Fuck, Jaemin, my wife has not been able to sleep with me for two months because she gave birth to us and already going crazy. " Jeno laughed and looks at Jaemin. "So you mean I should go out and sleep with some random woman?" Jaemin wasn't sure. "Yes! Maybe you just have to take a little pressure off. Let off some steam." Jeno grinned and Jaemin nodded. Maybe he was right, maybe other women would distract him from all the thoughts he had about Miga and he clearly had too many of them ...

providentia masterlist

daddy jaehyun masterlist

[lilikags]

Butter Mammon (half-filipino!Iwa + filipino!reader)

ೃ‧₊› a b o u t  t h i s  p o s t° ➮ Pairing: none ➮ Oneshot ➮ Tags: platonic, half-filipino!Iwaizumi + filipino!reader ➮ Word Count: 1129

Today was a great day- a superb day. Your cousins had come over, all the way from Cebu (1) to Japan. It was awesome- mostly because they brought some great food over. They had packed some great goodies, which you were so excited to eat, mostly snacks since they couldn't bring most foods (fresh foods etc.) over on a plane.  They did get to bring one of your favorites- butter mammon(2)! It was an absolutely amazing dessert (or snack), and the butter one is the best. (in my opinion anyways- )

You were more than happy to bring it to school; the sooner you could eat it the better! It was always so good to have it during lunch and eating it during school would make it even a bit easier to suffer through. You could probably brag to your friends how you had food from abroad, a small island country. You barely got to eat any of this, and it was such a treat. Of course, you wouldn't easily share it.

It was the start of your (short) food "trip" with some of your favorite foods. Of course, your cousins couldn't bring them in bulk and you had to share with your family, but at least you got some- and you'd eat as much of it as you could. You brought a butter mammon, the kind from Red Ribbon (2). It was always absolutely delicious, and it always lifted the mood when you ate it.

You had finished your drink and were going to the vending machine to get another. You ate your mammon while you were at it, enjoying every bite. After you ran out, you wouldn't get more for a long time, even years. It wasn't all the time that your cousins came around, after all. You started to think about what you were going to get from the vending machine. You had basically memorized all of the drinks in there, having gone to Seijoh for more than two years already. There were lots of good ones, especially their (favorite drink). It was one of the things you liked about the school.

As you were walking to the vending machine, you saw one of your classmates, Iwaizumi Hajime, sitting with his friends. He happened to look at you, and you waved at him, just a nice thing to do. They were sitting and talking, and as he looked at you, he noticed the mammon in your hand. He was mildly surprised, definitely interested. You thought he may have thought it was something else, as there wasn't too much mammon anywhere nearby these days. Or maybe he had gone to the Philippines once and tried them. You didn't know, and it didn't really matter too much.

As you arrived at the vending machine, you took a look at the stock available and chose one, taking a few coins out of your wallet to pay for it. When you started to head back, you noticed Iwaizumi walking towards the vending machine, wallet in hand. It was probably a coincidence, happened to need a drink too. You hadn't yet finished your mammon and it was about halfway done, and he looked at it.

"Is that butter mammon?" he asked. "Yeah," you said, as if it was obvious and it was common for one to recognize it. "That's great," he said, getting himself a drink from the vending machine for himself. "You ever been to the Philippines?" "Yeah, a few times, I have family who lives in Cebu," you said, wishing you were there, so that you could eat this whenever you wanted. "That's nice. It's always fun there. I remember one time, we went to Ayala and my siblings refused to get out of Timezone (3)," he laughed. You laughed as well, "Omg, yes, I could stay the entire day there. Then afterwards, I would go to the Mr. Donut and eat some donuts..."

The two of you ended up talking for the rest of the lunch period, about the experiences you had back in Cebu. Overall, they were pretty fun, and you enjoyed talking and relating to someone about this. You didn't really have any Filipino friends here in Japan, and it was really nice for a change to be able to talk about this without them asking all sorts of questions from their impressions of the country. Visiting a country really allows you to understand and absorb the place and the culture, and having family from there really deepens your understanding too. It's a different experience. They say that a picture may be worth a thousand words, but an entire 360 degree scene is worth a million.

You were happy that you had made a new friend, one whom you could share your experiences with. When you got home, you went to find another mammon, because you wanted to eat one. When you looked in the cabinet, there weren't any left. It turned out that your parents and their guests, who were your neighbors, had eaten them all by the time you got there. You were definitely disappointed, but there wasn't anything you could do about it now.

Since there was no mammon left, you decided to eat otap- something else you liked. It was flaky and sweet, a favorite among your family. Shamrock brand (4) was the best, and that was the one your cousins had brought you. It was always good, and you were never let down. Unless you count that one time your younger brother dropped the entire package and all of the cookies fell apart, it was always good, eating otap.

So, the next day, you brought some otap to school. You placed it in your locker very carefully, above all the other things so that it wouldn't get squashed and crumble. It would be such a shame if it did. Well, at least you could still eat it- pour it into your mouth-

Anyways, when lunch came around, you went back to your locker to get your lunch (with the otap) and you found it untouched. Just the way it should be. On your way to your usual spot, you spotted Iwaizumi, and after your long conversation yesterday, you felt that you had to brag to him about the otap too. It was just too good not to share. Not to make him feel bad or anything, just that you were really happy to have the otap- because it's just good, y'know? And while you were talking, you decided to give him a few of them, because you're really a nice person (4) and sharing is caring.

The next day, he came over to your house with a few snacks, saying, "I shared the cookies with my family, they were really happy to get them." You thanked him for the cookies and next day, you brought back a few sweets your mom had made as thanks, you had only given him small amount of them, and you felt bad (and your mom also insisted) that he had given you a whole bag of snacks. The two of you kept bringing food to each other as thanks for the gift before, and eventually you ended up joining their lunch group, sharing food with everyone else.

Notes:  (1) Cebu is one of the biggest islands in the Philippines, and I used Cebu instead of Manila (the capital) because I've personally been there a few times haha. (2) Red Ribbon is a bakery which makes all sorts of good stuff, including mammon. It's pretty popular in the Philippines. (3) Timezone is an arcade, which I would often go to whenever I visit Cebu. I could personally be there for hours and not have played there enough... I once was given a bucket for all the tickets I was getting 😂 (4) I know you're a nice person don't say you aren't. :)

『••✎••』 Extra Info * ˚ ✦ ⇢ If you would like to read some of my other works, find them here! * ˚ ✦ ⇢ Taglist: If you would like to be on my taglist, send me an ask! (no one to tag no on has joined yet)

A/N: Hey guys! I hope you liked this :D I think I'm getting faster at updating? I hope haha. Ilya and I hope you enjoyed this!

[jostepherjoestar]

After seeing tha La Squadra ask with the yakuza games I was wondering how the group would react if the yakuza La Squadra member had a few of their old yakuza friends visit Italy and their the characters from the yakuza games (let’s just say it’s in the same universe)

🐉 Former Yakuza La Squadra member gets a visit from Kiryu & Majima🐉 (multiple asks in one) (2,1k)

sfw // gn reader (reader is the former yakuza member)

After discovering Majima and Kiryu shared a mutual friend that had moved to Italy and joined a gang there, they were curious to know how they were faring, deciding on a whim to pay them a visit. Their old pal had left quite the impression on the two men back when they were part of the yakuza.

Set in an AU where the Yakuza in-game happenings and JJBA events take place in the same universe, the game does not exist, it’s just real life for the characters and La Squadra’s newest recruit that used to be in the Yakuza happened to be friends with Kiryu and Majima back in the day.

(Btw my interpretation of Majima when he’s alone with Kiryu is that he mostly drops his act and since he’s in a new country he is a little more timid towards strangers, don’t get me wrong, he will still start shit but maybe not as quick.)

It was a bright and sunny day, the sweet spring wind still holding some winter chill as it blew through your hair. You were sat on the bench across from the safe house, arms spread wide on the backrest, cigarette dangling on your lips while you basked in the warmth of sunshine. You quite enjoyed sitting like this, making it an uninviting scene for passersby or your teammates, not wanting anyone near you so you could relax in peace. Of course still on guard, never truly letting it down, there’s enough people out there that have a bone to pick with Passione, especially your division. You took another long drag of the cigarette, the overwhelming smoke entering your lungs like ashy clouds. But as you heard some rustling you reached over to grab the smoking bud and pressed it into the ground with your foot. There was something suspicious going on, you felt like you were being watched. You casually peered through half closed eyes at the building in front of you, no one had been staring through the windows. No, it felt like it came from a different direction. Lazily you stood up, stretching your core, twisting your middle from side to side while letting your arms get some movement, readying your body for possible combat. As you turned, you saw a trashcan wiggle in your peripheral. The movements looked very unusual, was there a cat stuck in it? But the can was placed so precisely on the corner of an alley, someone could easily be standing right around the bend to surprise-attack you. Picking up a rock and throwing it right at the middle of the can, even making an indent, you felt a bit idiotic for doing it. But still there was no further movement or sound. You were still curious so you without much thinking you crept closer. If it was an animal in need you’d feel bad to have left it to suffer.

As you stepped nearer, now in front of the dented can, having full vision of the alley you were met with someone you didn’t suspect in the slightest. “Kiryu-san?” You questioned, face frozen in shock. “Wh-what are you doing here? Am I dreaming?” you asked while rubbing your eyes, maybe if you rubbed them hard enough you’d wake up. The large man’s furrowed eyebrows softened as he was met with your familiar form. A small smile formed on his lips but he stayed quiet for some reason, opting to kick the trashcan in front of him instead. It burst open, the lid sent flying further into the alley as you both ducked for cover. “What the fuck Kiryu-chan?! I told you I got this!” Majima’s figure popped out, the snakeskin jacket crumpled from what looked like sitting in the confined space for far too long. You couldn’t believe your eyes, you’re sure your mouth was hanging open with eyes wider than a deer in headlights, like your brain had crashed and burned. “Ya went and ruined the surprise Kiryu-chan! And ya went and broke Oushi-chan as well.” The one eyed man gestured angrily while complaining, he’d planned out the perfect way to surprise you: to shock and fight you. But the only thing that snapped you out of your stupor was that stupid nickname, Oushi-chan. He basically called you a bull, giving you the nickname after you’d stormed angrily down the stairs of the Tojo Clan head office after a particularly frustrating meeting and nearly threw Majima down the stairs as you raced on by. “Stop calling me that! And what in the name of all that is sacred are you doing in Italy?” You hushed your yells as to not alert the entire neighbourhood of their arrival, helping the older man out of the trashcan. “We’d thought it was nice to come and visit you, see what you’ve been up to.” Kiryu calmly explained. “And calling was too expensive? You guys really scared the shit out of me!” Still filled with disbelief at their sudden appearance, but glad to see those familiar faces again. You did miss them too, the short time you shared with them still being remembered fondly. “Glad to see ya haven’t changed, ya did get an Italian accent though.” Majima playfully jabbed as he slung his arm around your shoulders. “Oh you’re one to talk about accents old man.” You prodded back as you pushed his arm off in annoyance, not taking any of the man’s teasing that easily. “Before you ask how we found you, I’ll explain.” Kiryu’s voice was still as deep as you remembered, telling you how they knew you were in Naples and even knew of Passione, it was just a matter of time until someone pointed you out (after some mild intimidation). Not that it was hard to spot you among the Italian men in your team. Hard for these two to talk, back in Tokyo you’d spot that grey suit and angry scowl from a mile away. And let’s not even pretend that Majima’s no-shirt-tacky-jacket-leather-pants look was any less eye catching. You huffed out a laugh, the shock of seeing these two finally wearing off as they started asking questions about how you’ve been and how work is. Happily chatting on the bench you were previously lounging on.

“So… what’s the nature of yer squad exactly? I mean ya look meaner than before, if that was even an option.” The one eyed man jested in a hushed voice, sure that it was a sensitive topic. “Well I like to think we’re the cleanup crew, bringing a bit more harmony to this field of work.” Ignoring his comment about your looks, sure that they helped you in this line of business. “That’s one way to phrase it.” Kiryu huffed out a chuckle, leaning his hands on his knees as he looked at you with a sympathetic smile. He admired your fervour, it was one of the reasons he was so fond of you. After hearing how you stood up against Majima and he didn’t slice you to bits, he was impressed at how you persuaded Majima to settle it through a game of hanafuda. The stoic man knew you liked to be alone, being used to it himself or rather preferring it somewhat over putting his loved ones in danger. He actually asked you to join his family if he ever became patriarch of his own one, he put a lot of trust in you.

After some more catching up you decided that perhaps you should show them around the house and introduce them to your teammates. Knowing how much they loved hearing your stories about your time in the yakuza, they’d surely appreciate to meet your old pals. You stepped in with the two men in tow, stopping in the entry way to hand your friends some slippers, it was a habit you never let go since moving here and you’d even convinced the rest of your house mates to go along with it. “Hey guys, I have some friends I’d like you to meet! Please don’t be weird!” You yelled loudly enough for the entire house to hear, even your capo on the top floor would be able to. Formaggio, Prosciutto and Pesci sauntered out of the living room, looking quite bored before noticing your two friends. Now they seemed interested. “So who’s the eye-patch guy and mister giant?” Formaggio joked as he elbowed Prosciutto who tutted his colleague for touching his suit. “Well these two gentlemen are my friends from Japan… from the yakuza…” it was so awkward to add that they were also involved in such things. You were pretty sure Kiryu was nearing his end run with the organisation anyway. “Oh and they do not understand a single word you’re saying, I’ll translate and yes I will filter out your jokes Formaggio.” You said in a serious tone. The two men behind you stood awkwardly awaiting any signal from you, Majima eyeing your teammates up and down, trying to get a good impression of them. Pesci seemed scared by the men but trying his best not to show it, only shaking a little. Majima thought him a perfect target to tease, holding himself back from his usual persona. “Prosciutto. Pesci. Formaggio.” Your blond colleague introduced them curtly, hands still in his pockets. Kiryu understood the introductions and gave a little nod, Majima followed with a grunt. “This is Majima-san and Kiryu-san.” The mingling of Italian and Japanese still being something you were trying to get used to, only having been able to speak Italian since you arrived. You led the men into the sitting room, the three colleagues retreating back to their card game while you and the other two sat down on the couches. Your colleagues weren’t really that interested it seemed or maybe just unsure of them for now. As you excused yourself to get some drinks for your guests, you were a little worried to leave them by themselves, you knew they could handle themselves physically, but it was more the communication part that you were worried about. You returned with a couple of glasses filled with juice as you saw Melone had slinked inside the living room, gently placing himself on the one seater next to the couch. “So who are these guys?” He asked curiously while leering, perhaps making Kiryu blush a little since Melone kept staring at him. You quickly introduced them to him and shushed him out of your seat, instead he sat on the armrests of the chair. Majima sat up a little, not really liking the looks of the purple haired one. “Is he always like that?” he asked, being a little weirded out. “Yes, yes he is.” You replied with a sigh as your teammate kept staring with a grin on his face, happy to just quietly observe.

You nearly sprung out of your chair when Risotto entered the doorway, feeling like you’d overstepped by bringing in your friends. Majima cocked an eyebrow at your behaviour, not knowing what superior could make you act like that. That was until he turned around as well. “Risotto I-, excuse me for bringing them in but they came all the way from Japan to check up on me.” You pleaded in a hurry as your capo took in the people in the room. “Don’t worry.” He said while giving a nod to the guests while taking them in, having a bit of a stare off with Majima or more like Majima didn’t want to lose eye contact. He felt an innate need to fight Risotto, not because he wanted to hurt him, he just wanted to see what the large man was made off. Risotto reminded Majima of his dear friend next to him. “I’ll be going back to work but please treat their guests nicely.” Risotto aimed his comment at the other men in the room, seeing them not really interact with the guests just yet. You sunk back down in your chair and sighed in relief. “He’s got ya whipped Oushi-chan.” Majima joked as he saw your cheeks get a little flushed.

Slowly but surely with lots of hard work the men actually started talking (with your help translating), Kiryu was still a bit demure but you didn’t expect him to be otherwise, respecting his usual style. After a while Prosciutto even invited them to play a round of cards, all sat around the table while he dealt them. A simple game of blackjack. You actually quite enjoyed the intermingling of your past and present, happy to know there were still people looking out for you back home. Not even sure if you were still allowed to call it home, having perhaps found a new one.

And yes Melone did ask to fight Majima, who quickly agreed since he thought the lithe man was weird and needed some readjusting. Of course Majima won, you sternly asked Melone not to use his stand. The whole thing was quite amusing actually, even Kiryu seemed to enjoy it.

[cupcakesnomnomnom123]

Durarara!! x The Outsider

Crossover

*note* AHHH this cross over is my new thing I swear lol. I don’t usually write fics because I can’t hold my attention down long enough to think about a whole story. I usually like to draw because I love it and it gets my ideas out quicker. But I can’t stop thinking about this scenario and the dialogues between the characters that I have to let it out! This is my first fanfic so please be gentle but still love some criticism to my writing. ☺️ also THANK YOU for the support for the other post. I’m glad y’all like it. Also! Not going to be too much Shizaya yet. I wanted to be more Tom and Shizuo friendship centric here.

<TW> mentions of murder, child rape, cannabilisim

(Scenario: News has spread all over Japan of a brutal sexual assault and murder case of 10 year old Misaki Suzuki in Ikebukoro. Details of the murder was leaked to the public early leading to Tom Tanaka arrest while the public and social media are pushing for his death sentence. Tom is waiting to be put on trial. Shizuo visits his accused friend in jail )

Seeing Tom after a week since the… incident.. it looked like Tom aged 10 years. Shizuo sits down and picks up the phone on the left side of the wall and sees Tom so the same. They wait till security leaves and they were alone.

“Hey Tom.. are you okay?…. Wait, shit uhh sorry…that’s a dumb ass question to ask. How are you holding up?”

“…Not very good honestly… who knew being hunged over, fired and being put to jail on the same day really wears a person out haha…”

Tom laughs to lighten the situation but Shizuo can tell it’s fake and self depreciating. Shizuo raises his right arm and tries to rub the exhaustion from his eyes. He looks earnestly at Tom.

“You didn’t do it.”

Tom drops the small smile he had and his eyes showed what he truly felt inside. Completely hopeless.

“Why do you think that? You even said you saw me. Everyone thinks I did it. Even my family. I know they do…my mother refuses to answer the phone. And she always answers the phone. Hell I’m even starting to believe it too. “

“No”, Shizuo says sternly,”it doesn’t add up. I told the police I was with you most of that night. All those fucked up things that happened to the kid. It doesn’t even make sense….you couldn’t of been the one to do it. I’m sure there were cameras at the bar we were at. You couldn’t be at two places at once Tom. That’s impossible”

“A lot of impossible things happen in this city Shizuo. I’m staring at a guy who can lift trucks with no problem”

“This isn’t the same thing.”

Shizuo hates that Tom is feeling this way. He’s upset and pissed at the whole situation. He was pissed the whole time the police was questioning him. He doesn’t have a problem with them per se, even with his bad history with them. It was the repetitive way they were asking the same.damn.questions. Over and over just said differently. It was to see if he would change his story and it was getting on his last nerves. They were betting on Shizuo to give up Tom because they got DNA evidence and even bite mark evidence. All matching down to the very last tooth. But he hold his ground and kept telling them the truth. The police were obviously getting annoyed but he didn’t give a damn. They were trying to get justice for Misaki. They wanted to blame the person all the signs who is pointed at. It made sense. He still would of beaten their asses. But would not helped his or Toms case at all.

He first thought was Izaya since he’s always the cause of all Shizuos problems. This time, it didn’t have izaya’s stink and it didn’t sit right with Shizuo. Izaya usually makes himself known that Shizuo is the bane of Izaya’s existence. The flea is a coward and ruin people’s lives, however…. this… even he thinks izaya doesn’t cross a certain line.

After dealing with the police for hours he went home but he couldn’t get much sleep. The image of Tom running away covered in Misaki’s blood burned in his mind. When he did sleep he wake up having nightmares of finding Misaki body in that dark alley over and over. At the time, he didn’t knew what he saw being he was buzzed from the night of drinking .He didn’t know it was the little girl till he saw the face. The body itself was almost unrecognizable. The body was mangled and ripped apart like a huge animal had gotten her. She was close to Akanes age and sometimes in his dreams both their faces will merge together staring at Shizuo with those same cold dead eyes. That wasn’t the worst part of his nightmares. The absolute worst part was imagination giving him vivid images what the Tom imposter did before Misaki’s murder. He wished he didn’t know..

“Didn’t you also hear from the police shizuo.?,” Tom avoids his eyes.”They also found my DNA all over the scene. They found dna in the building, the van, clothes, inside-

Toms stopped when his voiced hitched a little.

“…the cops showed me pictures…..They were trying to get me to confess but I really don’t remember after I was drinking. I shouldn’t kept drinking. You were right I should of stopped after drink three I should-“

“Hey”. Shizuo says in a harsher manner than he intended.

While Tom tries not to completely break down in front of Shizuo, Shizuo looks at the situation with pure anger and frustration. He can feel the familiar burning feeling simmering beneath his skin. He’s used of being feared like a inhuman beast he is. People feared, and held animosity towards Shizuo. He’s used to that. But Tom wasn’t. Tom literally has the whole world against him right now.

“You don’t deserve to be here..” he almost whispers in the receiver. “ you’re not the monster everyone says you are. I know this not because I was with you most of that night. I know you. We wouldn’t be friends if you pissed me off.”

Their was silence between them. The pause went on too long for Shizuos liking. Toms smile was tired, a little shaky when he sighed but grateful. It was a sigh of relief someone was there at their lowest.

“I think this is the first time you called me one. I was wondering if you ever referred me besides being your boss.” Tom closes his eyes while slightly leans back in his chair with his arms crossed and one side of his mouth perked up. “It feels weird getting the side of being pepped talked at but….” He looks at shizuo with thankful eyes

“Thanks…for getting angry that night. Well, for my behalf. Honestly, that’s the most nicest thing someone has done for me so far since I’ve been in this cage. I’m glad I still have you as a friend. Though I’m not your boss anymore.”

Shizuo doesn’t let too many people in his life in because of the fear of him accidentally hurting them. But this is Tom. Who was their for him at his lowest. He helped him to get most of the thugs off him during middle school. Gave him the suggestion to dye his hair blonde. Given him a job where everything else has failed. Even with izaya interfering with most of them, he knew his temper alone is the first cause of them. Tom helped him so much more than Shizuo deserved. Tom was the last person to be in this fucked up position. Even with the limited pool of relationships he has, he knew when a friend needed him. So he said what he knew he can do best.

“I’ll kill the asshole who put you in this mess. You didn’t kill the girl. I will prove your innocence one way or another. No matter what. I’ll be honest, I’m not sure where to start but I will find them.”

He can’t ask Tom to trust him. He’s afraid to ask. It would be too much faith to ask he had on him when he didn’t had that much faith in himself. Back of his mind, he’s afraid to fail. The voice nagging him, telling him he’s a fuck up. He’s nothing more than a beast destroying everything in his wake. But he’s gotta try. He’s too scared of the alternative option. Tom dying alone believing he’s not worth saving. So he squashes, pushes, kickes and punches that voice back as far it can go. Tom needed to see he’s trying. Tom just smiled at him.

“I trust you on that shizuo. I don’t usually go for violence but this is a special case. I wish I can be there to witness you do it. You still owe me a drink.”

“You still want to drink after this?” Shizuo jokes. Tom smiles a little wider and puts his left hand on his chin in contemplation.

“Hmmm You right. I’m done with drinking for a while. I’ll just settle with trying not to get killed in prison.”

*Aannnd that’s it! Im not sure how much I can do writing before I burn out but the dialogue is the fun part. Doing backgrounds will forever be a fun and the bane of my existence. I hope I stayed IC. I want to do a scenario where shizuo and izaya will work together but my brain will go straight to fluffy moments lol. *

[polaristranslations]

Shinobu Mustard Episode 4

028

"Kanbaru. Do you mind becoming a slave for tonight? Also, lend me your house."

"All right!"

Second slave, secured.

"Oikura. Tonight, become my slave, and cook for me."

"Don't think you'll be able to live until tonight."

Third slave, failed to secure.

The reason for that failure was most likely because I'd been a hurry and said "my slave"... Well, it wasn't like I could tell her to become the slave of a golden-haired, golden-eyed girl.

And because of her connections with Gaen-san, I couldn't exactly get Kanbaru fully involved in this either, so renting her house for one night should be good enough.

As the "citadel" of the king of oddities.

I'd heard yesterday that her grandparents were out on a trip, so Kanbaru could stay over at Higasa-chan's house or even Karen's room in the Araragi house and hold a pajama party there, while I was allowed to do whatever I liked in the meantime.

I knew it made me sound like an outlaw, but it was a decision I couldn't avoid—the only building I could think of in this town that could serve as a vampire's stronghold was Kanbaru's mansion.

Just as the death-prepared, death-inevitable, death-certain vampire, Deathtopia Virtuoso Suicidemaster, had once taken up residence in the "Castle of Corpses", the iron-blooded, hot-blooded, cold-blooded vampire, Kissshot Acerolaorion Heartunderblade, needed a building of suitable pedigree in which to take up residence.

It was fairly Japanese-style for a castle—or rather it was just a Japanese mansion—but hopefully, this being Suicidemaster's first visit to Japan, she wouldn't be able to differentiate between castles and mansions in Japan... Not that I, a Japanese person, could.

"But no, I didn't say that just because I wanted to show off. If Suicidemaster were to learn that her former thrall who she came to visit had been rendered harmless and sealed in the shadow of a pervert—nay, human—she may close herself off entirely. We won't be able to hear a single shred of information. In the worst case, you might even be killed. Would you be fine with that?"

"No, I wouldn't, but..."

"In that case, become my slave again like you were in last year's spring break, and prepare a castle and a banquet. To make my reign more convincing. If you can secure two or three more fake thralls, then that would be great."

The slave sealed in my shadow stuck out her chest in pride and ordered me as such from the child seat.

Erm...

"So basically, you want to greet your old pal with a master-servant relationship in that sort of fashion?"

"Fashion is important in hospitality. I'm pretty strict on fashion. Like a Parisienne."

"No, rather than a Parisienne, you're more like a putting-on-airs-ienne. Respectfully speaking, Shinobu. Wouldn't a petty trick like this just be found out immediately..."

"Oh, you're already getting into it. 'Respectfully speaking', you say? Ka ka, you're an expert at acting like a slave already! Have you done this before? Wait, of course you have! Ka ka, keep it up for the real thing!"

With a loud laugh as if she'd already gotten accustomed to being the master, Shinobu sunk back into the shadows... It almost looked like she was assimilating with the child seat.

What a mess. She'd appeared as if she was going to listen to my concerns, but then she just said whatever she wanted to—however, as soon as I parked my New Beetle in the parking lot, before I went inside, it was then that I called Kanbaru, who'd been in the middle of her morning run, and Oikura, who'd been indulging in her slumber at her lodgings.

Kanbaru had eagerly agreed (it was scary how eager she was, but I decided to call her back and discuss it properly, as well as other things), while Oikura had refused (if I left her alone, she'd probably call me back, so at that point, I'll more or less apologize from the bottom of my heart... and ask for her home cooking separately).

Well, Shinobu putting on airs was the same as always.

I almost wanted to tell her to be more show-offy towards me, but considering the way she was cooperating for this case, I couldn't bluntly refuse that honesty... I had better properly inform Gaen-san about this, too.

Thinking about it, Kanbaru was the "niece of that Gaen-san", but in reverse, Gaen-san was the "aunt of that Kanbaru". What if Gaen-san casually went, "I'll do it, too! Let me be a slave, too!" after I went to her with our plans?... I didn't want to see Gaen-san like that.

What an odd family they were.

On the other hand, even though my parents were ordinary, upright public servants, why had all their children turned out like that?

Speaking of which, the fact that only the members of the girls' basketball team of Naoetsu High were being attacked could be rephrased as "only Kanbaru's juniors were being attacked", so maybe it was a good idea to think about things with her as the focal point.

Even if the gourmet Suicidemaster were only able to dine on "Princess Beauty", Kanbaru Suruga was the daughter (in other words, the direct descendant) of Gaen Tooe, who's practically talked about as if she were a legend—so for the club members that were under her influence, the possibility of them being targeted is...

Although, in that case, maybe Kanbaru herself would be targeted? Actually, it was fairly possible that that was the case—and if so, then using Kanbaru's house as a meeting place wasn't a bad idea, if only to see Suicidemaster's reaction, but Kanbaru herself should probably be kept far away.

That was what ran through my mind as I wandered around the campus of Manase University to kill time, having arrived earlier than expected (it was a fairly expansive university, and I still hadn't seen all of the campus yet. Supposedly, it would take over four years to check out all of the facilities—what was this, the British Museum?), but once it got close to 7:45 am, I knocked on the door to the lecture hall for my international linguistics class.

Although it was called "linguistics", it was different from classes on foreign languages in that it put languages from all over the world, both famous and unknown, on equal footing and compared them in detail. Ultimately, an unproductive course with no destination in sight—there were many incomprehensible courses like this in college.

But I liked that sort of incomprehensible stuff. Could this be Ougi-chan's influence?

It was a liberal arts course unusual for someone in the mathematics department to take, and it was hard to say that the course was particularly popular even taking into account how early in the morning it was, but for Meniko, whose goal was to work with codes in the future, there was no way she couldn't take this course—well, for her, international linguistics probably wasn't even an "incomprehensible course" (in exchange, Meniko was bad with normal foreign language study).

"Hola. Araragi-chan, you're ea~arly. How diligent of you~u."

"I dunno about being called early when you're here in your seat before me. Hola."

Not to mention, I planned on skipping class after this. Unfortunately (or not), today's lecture hadn't been canceled.

It seemed I'd have to borrow Meniko's notes another day—the number of favors I was asking her was increasing. Someday, I'd better do something for her in return.

I bumped fists with Meniko and sat down next to her, and then asked, "Do you mind if I asked you to decipher another code?", showing her the sequence of numbers that I had displayed on my cell phone.

"Hmm. Hmm, hmm?"

A normal person, after being asked to solve codes like these two days in a row, would find it strange and ask for my intentions before even trying, but this was Hamukai Meniko—she couldn't not solve a code that was put before her.

It was a difficult personality, but I liked that about her... It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but neither I nor my proud network of friends from high school were people that moved without some reason or purpose.

Even Hanekawa and Oshino.

And even the violent onmyouji Kagenui-san that was heading towards this town was actually a person of reason—she moved according to her own, unique logic.

As a result, there had been a time when I'd thought that people were just like that, but after becoming friends with Meniko, I came to learn that there were people who weren't like that—I'd been enlightened.

Meniko also seemed to be rather interested in the fact that I was (in a rough estimate) rather logical about things, so I suppose it was a mutual thing.

In order to maintain this relationship, I didn't dare introduce Meniko to any of my other connections, such as Oikura, even by mistake—of course, I had absolutely no intention of breaking off my connection with Oikura, who I had reconnected with after entering university, but as for her... Rather than our connection being broken off, it could be more like she herself would snap.

"A cell phone, huh. Was the code recorded in a cell phone?"

"Yep. Although I don't know if that holds any meaning..."

"That's tru~ue. These days, cell phones are like a part of our brains now, aren't they? Some people criticize the fact that when you go on a trip, you end up looking at the scenery through the small screen of your smartphone, but looking at something with the camera of your smartphone is basically the same as looking at it with your own eyes. Maybe when people complain about train passengers playing with their cell phones, it's a sign that they've failed to pair their phones with themselves?"

I hadn't exactly mastered the use of a cell phone myself, so it was hard for me to wholeheartedly agree, but, well, it wasn't like I didn't understand what she was saying.

"Anyway, this time it's only numbers, huh. Hm. I did solve it, bu~ut."

"Already? You're really the one that's early to things, aren't you. The truth is, I didn't have the slightest idea."

It wasn't like I didn't feel helpless when delegating the whole thing to Meniko, so I'd thought that I'd challenge it on my own in the period of time before I took it to her, but I'd spent most of that time on Shinobu's matter.

"It doesn't seem like putting it on a phone and not on paper really mattered? But numbers are easy to make into a code, aren't the~ey. Languages can vary from region to region, depending on grammar and culture, but numbers are worldwi~ide. No matter where in the universe you are, one plus one is two, and a prime number is a prime number, ri~ight?"

"That's not actually the case. For example, in Nepalese, the representations for '1' and '9' look similar, so when a Japanese person sees them, the math wouldn't add up at a glance. The logic would look completely wrong. Also, it's only in Japan where people use the '正' kanji to count to five, and for someone like me, the little horizontal bar used to distinguish a '7' from a '1' is enough to make me not think of it as a '7'".

"I see. For someone like me, a '7' with a horizontal bar looks kind of like the kanji for seven [七] upside down, so I end up getting those confu~used. So you're above me when it comes to that, huh, Araragi-cha~an."

There wasn't really an above or a below in this exchange, but aah, I wanted to have a conversation like this.

I suddenly realized.

When Shinobu—when Princess Acerola, as "Princess Beauty"—went about destroying countries... When she was a human, did she feel the same way as this when she met a vampire?

Even though it was a relationship of eat or be eaten.

The interpretation that they were vampire and thrall, or master and slave, was at odds with the lighthearted way in which she spoke of her as an "old pal".

She had said that she'd reflected from that time with Shishirui Seishirou, so I'd interpreted it as the master-slave relationship having been reversed, but what if it wasn't that? What if Suicidemaster really was just a "friend" to Shinobu?

Like, for example, Kanbaru and Higasa-chan.

According to Hachikuji, Suicidemaster had called Shinobu a friend as well.

A friend, huh.

There had been a fiercely determined class representative who had declared, "If I can't die for someone, I wouldn't call that person a friend". But what if Shinobu wanted to meet Suicidemaster with that in mind?

Did I have the qualification to stop her?

Talking about qualifications at this point was what made me, me—regret may always come too late, but logic always took precedence. If I ultimately acted upon my emotions, then I would most likely act too late to a disgusting extent.

I should learn a bit from my new friend.

What I wanted was not qualifications, but qualities.

"Hmm. Araragi-chan, what's the matter? Thinking about something?"

"No, I'm trying hard not to think about something. So, what's the answer to the code?"

"Like yesterday, I managed to solve it, but it's a dead-end that isn't really refreshing. Even though I managed to decode it, it just leaves me stressed aga~ain. But it ended up being letters of the alphabet aga~ain."

"Alphabet—then, 'D/V/S'?"

"No~ope. This time, it's 'F/C'."

"F/C"?

029

"If 'F/C' are also initials, I wonder if there's someone from the girls' basketball team who has those initials," said Gaen-san, the human representative of logic, after hearing my report.

We were once again in Naoetsu General Hospital, in yet another hospital room different from the three we'd been in earlier—the hospital room where Kanguu Misago-chan's mummy had been put up.

"I wonder if the message was left on a cell phone to hint at that. Since they had matching straps with their initials."

"Aah... That's right, they did have those," I said.

In that sense, I would've had more hints to decipher it than Meniko did.

It wasn't really a contest, but I did find it a bit frustrating.

"By the way, Kanguu-chan also had a strap. Since she's Kanguu Misago, it was 'M K'."

"Eh? But wait, Gaen-san. Wouldn't that mean that the vampire that we're looking for is actually among the members of the girls' basketball team?"

If, not the dying message, but the living message was indicating a specific member's initials, and Suicidemaster was being falsely accused of a crime, then that would be it.

"F C".

"Not necessarily. It could be that Kanguu-chan, in a hazy state of mind, was just trying to write the name of a friend she thought of. Or it's an act of deception to make us think that way. In other words, diversionary tactics by Suicidemaster."

A vampire trying to blame a human for their vampirism—it seemed a little narrow-minded, almost pitiful at that, and not at all in line with the image of a vampire. Well, if we can consider the possibility that the crime is being pinned on Suicidemaster, why can't we consider the opposite?

Taking it to extremes, it was even possible now that this was a diversionary tactic to make us think that everything was fabricated, like a deduction in a honkaku mystery.

Us people of logic.

"You're right. It would be too unexpected a truth for there to be a vampire among the club members."

"I don't remember explicitly denying that possibility. You can't say for sure that there aren't more oddities like you, Koyomin, that put on an air of innocence and casually attend school, right?"

"Again with the jokes."

And this was a bad joke, at that.

The phrasing of "air of innocence" felt like biting words.

"It's not entirely a joke, though. Well, this is just a brute force through all the possibilities at the moment. Like a canvassing operation done by throwing more people at the problem. It's true that, as a result of last night's events, the suspicion placed on Suicidemaster has faded. 'F C' seems like it would be fairly rare for initials, so I'm sure we'll be able to narrow it down to just a few girls out of the hundred on the basketball team..."

As she spoke, Gaen-san began flipping through the register of names borrowed from Higasa-chan, beginning her check. I'd promised not to make any copies of it, so it was the original document.

"For reference, do you mind if I ask, Koyomin? About how the code was deciphered. It's possible that the method can also provide a hint for us."

"Understood. However, I don't think it'll be very relevant."

"I'd like to hear it anyway. I may not exactly be a sciences person, but it's not like I hate number puzzles. It's a great way to exercise the mind and relax."

Relax?

Putting aside exercising the mind... She didn't really look like it, but was Gaen-san actually stressed right now? With this incident taking longer than expected, Kagenui-san drawing closer to the town with every moment, and my betrayal that must not be forgotten, well, there were plenty of things that could be cause for concern.

Well, if revealing the trick is somehow relaxing, then I'll gladly do so.

It's atonement for my infidelity.

"However, this code ended up not being a number puzzle. It had nothing to do with prime numbers, either—though it's still in the sciences, it was not mathematics, but the field of natural sciences."

"Natural sciences? If we're talking about fields, in middle school, they'd divide the natural sciences into the 'first field' for physics and chemistry, and the 'second field' for biology and geology."

"In that respect, it would be the first field—Celsius and Fahrenheit."

In other words, temperature notation.

Like numbers, temperature was the same throughout the world, or perhaps even throughout the universe, and high temperatures were high, low temperatures were low, and absolute zero was absolute zero—but temperature wasn't notated in the same way everywhere. The units differed.

And that difference was Celsius and Fahrenheit.

"Ah—that's why it's 'F' and 'C'?"

As expected of a logical person, she caught on fast. After speaking, Gaen-san flipped the register shut—it seemed she'd finished checking it all.

She was even fast at reading.

"But how does '820/280/610/160' become Celsius and Fahrenheit? Although, since Celsius is 'C' and Fahrenheit is 'F', perhaps I should ask how it becomes Fahrenheit and Celsius."

"For both Celsius and Fahrenheit, a '°' is placed in the top right direction to denote 'degrees'. In the same place where you would write an exponent."

"Do an explanation like that for a science major. I got it just from you saying 'in the top right direction'—don't go off in a completely different direction, Koyomin. And?"

"We look at the '0' in the code and interpret it as a '°'—basically, the '0' in '820', the '0' in '280', the '0' in '610', and the '0' in '160', all the zeroes at the end of the numbers, should not be taken as numbers but as symbols. Then, '820/280/610/160' becomes '82°/28°/61°/16°'."

"Aha. Highest and lowest temperatures, huh?"

That was exactly it.

The code that had been left behind was showing yesterday's temperature, represented in both Celsius and Fahrenheit—just like the Rosetta Stone, which could be described as the originator of cryptanalysis.

However, the essential letters of the alphabet were missing—"F" and "C".

"That's why, 'F/C' becomes the deciphered text to the code. Oh, but if they're initials, you can't really call that a text. But I see. It's amazing that someone could come up with something like that."

"Yes. Checking the daily high and low temperatures may be natural for an athletic person, but even then, I don't think they would have been able to come up with that in their hazy state of mind."

"No, my intention was to praise your friend, Koyomin."

It would be a bit troublesome if you show too much interest in her.

If you point your finger at her.

This was entirely my own self-interest, but I'd like to settle this case before I needed to ask for help with a third code...

But after relying on Hachikuji and getting Shinobu's cooperation and borrowing Kanbaru's house, I'd strayed pretty far from what I'd originally intended, so maybe next time I'd just give up and go to Ougi-chan for help with the cryptanalysis... Although, that girl likes to be befuddling, so she definitely wouldn't just give me the answer straight up like Meniko.

She was also a person of logic. A mysterious form of logic.

But anyway, let's return to the main subject.

For the sake of protecting Meniko, and for the sake of resolving this case.

"But anyway, how many people in the girls' basketball club have the initials 'F C'? Although we'd probably need to check whether that girl has a strap or not..."

Since the first mummy, Harimaze Kie-chan, didn't have a strap on her phone, it wasn't a given that everyone had a matching strap. Perhaps, within the club, that small level of resistance against peer pressure was allowed.

"There were as much as zero people."

"Eh? What did you say?"

"Sorry, that was a weird way to put it. Zero. There were none, is what I meant. Girls with 'F C' as their initials, that is."

030

"Have you looked for the reverse order? You know, when representing the name of a Japanese person, there's the pattern of 'first/last name' and 'last/first name'."

"Of course. There were none like that, either."

Could Meniko's solution have been wrong?

No, there was no way.

"I wonder if we should expand the range of possibilities. Should we include the third-years that have already retired as candidates?"

"Umm..."

It wasn't impossible to ask Higasa-chan through Kanbaru for a list of the OG members, but I wasn't sure. If we expanded it that far, it felt like the possibilities would be endless.

It didn't seem too productive to force the solution into the initials 'F C' and look for a person that matched, either... Rare as the initials might be, it wasn't like there was nobody with those initials.

"We did figure out that the victims were members of the girls' basketball team using the straps as the hint, but like with 'D/V/S', maybe there's a famous vampire with those initials?"

"The vampires here are from overseas, after all. It's normal to add a middle name... It's unnatural to have initials with just two letters."

"Is that so..."

I'd ended up bothering Meniko with this (though she'd been happy about it) and I'd ended up skipping class (though I probably would have skipped class anyway), but it didn't end up being that much of a hint... Well, even Oshino had said that fieldwork was a cycle of futility.

It was important not to dwell on it.

"By the way, Gaen-san. You don't seem to be in that good of a mood, so is it possible that you received more unpleasant news while I was out?"

"Hm? Did it seem that way to you? I was trying to act calm about it, but this onee-san that knows everything must be losing face to receive your concern, Koyomin. Even though I want to be an onee-san you can always rely on."

"No, no. Gaen-san, you're always an older woman that I can rely on..."

"I'm not trying to be a dependable older woman. No, but anyway, Koyomin. Your worries were right on the mark. The contents of a high school girl's cell phone weren't something we should have looked at."

And the fact that it hasn't produced any good results so far is nearly breaking my heart, said Gaen-san as she laid eyes upon the mummy on the bed—the owner of the cell phone, Kanguu Misago-chan.

Having been made to wear a patient gown and laid to rest on the bed... I didn't want to say I was getting familiar with the sight, but I was getting used to it.

When humans become nothing but skin and bones, it's hard to distinguish between them—their height became ambiguous when laid down, and since they were in a sports club, their hair was fairly short, so it was hard to distinguish them that way, too.

Kanbaru had also had a short haircut when she'd been active... Don't tell me it wasn't just because they were in a sports club, but because they were following after Kanbaru...?

Everyone doing the same thing... Hm?

"Even so, this onee-san won't be surprised any more. Seriously, after being shown the ugly side of human relations, I won't even be scared of vampires."

"Being shown? Gaen-san, you're the one who went and looked at it yourself."

"And I have nothing to say in response to that. They say you're not supposed to check your partner's phone, and that's completely true. If you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you."

What was in that phone, exactly?

Honestly, if she said it like that, it made me even more curious... However, it probably was better to not ask. For the sake of respecting their privacy, and for the sake of my own health... If Gaen-san ended up like that, I might even end up hospitalized as a result.

And if it wasn't producing any good results, then all the more reason not to.

"Well, I suppose the girls' basketball team is pretty unique. If this sort of thing was commonplace... Well, it's not something I want to think about, as an adult. Their club activities are certainly strange. It felt like they were bullying themselves."

"But aren't all athletic clubs more or less like that? Even more so if you're a powerhouse."

Or rather, a former powerhouse. In the case of Naoetsu High.

Of course, that may have intensified that athletic mindset...

"Mm. I've always had a commander-like nature since I was in high school, but even then, I was still pretty incompatible with those sports-minded people."

"So there was a time when you were a high school girl, Gaen-san."

"It's not like this onee-san was always an onee-san from the moment she was born. Or an older woman."

"That wasn't what I meant... But even so, the hardest person to imagine as a high school girl would probably be Kagenui-san."

She didn't seem like she would be in the liberal arts or the sciences, or in a cultural club or a sports club... What kind of high school girl would she have been?

"That girl was actually a surprisingly diligent student. Although I only knew her as a college student, not a high school student. She's the only one from that trio to graduate without dropping out."

Is that so.

Human beings really couldn't be described one-sidedly, huh.

"Oh nooo. While I carelessly stepped into a colony of high school girls and got my feet stuck in a murky, bottomless swamp, Kagenui will probably arri~ive!"

Even if you lament the word "arri~ive" all cutely like that, that in itself seemed more lamentable.

Please remain a reliable older woman.

"It may be fine for me to think this way, but Gaen-san, aren't you being a little too cautious regarding your junior? She may be a bit uncontrollable, but it's not like she completely ignores the orders you give her, right?"

In the first place, Kagenui-san was coming all the way back from the North Pole because she was called by Gaen-san—plus, if she were truly uncontrollable, she would've ignored any sort of harmless certification and gotten rid of Shinobu and me.

Though she was infinitely violent, that was just a matter of the way she did things, and it should be possible to talk things out—she was a person of logic, too.

"That's right. It's true that, if I explain the circumstances, she might understand the reasoning behind why it's not necessary to exterminate Suicidemaster. It might even be possible to certify her as harmless, with how much of a little girl she's become."

Even while stuck in a bottomless swamp of high school girls, it seemed she'd long since considered the things I'd thought of, with the way she spoke.

"Yes. In fact, as soon as I'd heard that Suicidemaster had broken through Hachikuji-chan's mayoi-ushi barrier, those thoughts had already crossed my mind. It wasn't that Suicidemaster had broken through the barrier with brute force, but simply that she had been weakened to the point that the barrier didn't even react."

"......"

Was that even possible?

It sounded pretty painful and distressing, considering that she was the progenitor who birthed and named the legendary oddity.

"Even in that state, she should still be able to suck the blood of high school girls, so just by being in this town, nothing has changed regarding her being the prime suspect. However, the reason she became a mummy might not be because she was attacked by someone, but because she'd weakened to the point that she entered cryptobiosis by herself."

"In that case, would that mean she was the one to bury herself in the mountain?"

"Yes, it would be safer in the dirt, after all. The cryptobiotic-sleep, hibernation-sleep, dozing-sleep vampire. In that case, perhaps she was attempting to make her way back to Hachikuji-chan who was in charge of immigration control, and collapsed along the way. Well, we're still just brute forcing the possibilities here—the strongest possibility is still that she grew so hungry that she attacked a high school girl, but for now, we can apply the principle of innocent until proven guilty. But the problem is, that won't work on Kagenui."

"...Why is that?"

She sure was stubborn in a weird way.

In a sense, she was pretty laid-back to even put her faith in someone like me, but right now, Gaen-san was being weirdly obstinate in regards to Kagenui-san.

"Well, this is just between us, but they share a bit of a past. The problem at hand, Suicidemaster, and the even bigger problem, Kagenui."

"The problem—and the bigger problem."

"Even if Suicidemaster happened to not be the culprit for this case, and even if it's possible for her to be certified as harmless after not having harmed a human for the past six hundred years—even then, they share a past that makes it impossible to stop Kagenui. Though justice is the only thing that can put that unorthodox onmyouji in check, she's very likely to move out of a personal grudge for this time alone."

G—grudge?

That bundle of justice?

"If I make the wrong move, I may find myself having to excommunicate yet another junior. And I don't want to do that."

031

Kagenui-san's personal grudge probably wasn't something that other people should be prying into, so let's return to the main subject. Although the main subject was a ghost story with intense pressure. But anyway, back to the main subject.

The risk of intruding into her private life had been clearly demonstrated, and Gaen-san, who had hinted at it, didn't dare tell me the details of her past—perhaps she'd let it slip after being embroiled in the high school girls' darkness.

Speaking of being embroiled, it seemed that the reason Gaen-san associated the initials "F C" with the members of the girls' basketball team was not only because of the alphabet strap, but because she'd looked into the darkness of the club displayed on Kanguu Misago-chan's cell phone and had been influenced by it (it seemed she even considered the possibility that, in her dazed state, Kanguu-chan thought she could pin the crime on a team member that she had some friction with). But in the register, there was no one with those initials—and, as long as there was no initial for a middle name included, it likely wasn't the vampire's signature, either.

Before expanding our reach to the OG girls, one more possibility came to my mind.

"What if these aren't initials, but an abbreviation for something in English?"

"Abbreviation? ...In other words, something other than a person's name?"

Normally, Gaen-san would have come up with something in an instant, but at the moment, she'd been caught up in the murky mires of those high school girls... And it could be even more damaging to her as an adult.

I've learned that the private life of others is nothing but poison.

"It probably isn't 'franchise (FC)'—then maybe it's something like 'football club (FC)'?"

It seemed appropriate.

First a basketball club, now a football club.

It also wasn't impossible to interpret it as a franchise of making vampire thralls, forced as it was—but there was no need to twist it that much.

But before we went to Naoetsu High's soccer team, we couldn't forget the other organization in that high school that we should consider.

"'Fan club (FC)'."

"Hm?"

"There was something like that. In the past—well, it wasn't that far in the past—an unofficial fan club for the superstar Kanbaru Suruga."

It was an organization separate from the girls' basketball team, yet was an organization that was strongly influenced by Kanbaru, in a way different from the girls' basketball team.

It was something that came to mind after thinking that all the mummies' hairstyles were the same—let's see, as I recall, that fan club's name was "Kanbaru Soeurs"?

"What's that? Is it something like the Rukawa Kaede Imperial Guard?"

"Exactly. But somehow they ended up getting involved with me and I forced them into disbanding—"

"That's something really scary you're saying as just an introduction, Koyomin. Forced them into disbanding. You really are a delinquent like the rumors say, aren'tcha?"

"I think the remnants of that fan club could be related to this case."

As much as the hypothesis that there was a vampire among the girls' basketball team members was incredible to believe, the possibility that there was a vampire mixed in with Kanbaru Suruga's fan club was just as ridiculous.

But we weren't in a situation where we could afford not to consider ridiculous possibilities just because they were ridiculous.

"That's a fact that this onee-san that knows everything didn't exactly need to know. Ah, yes, but my dear sister had a cheerleading squad like that when she was in high school, too."

"It doesn’t seem like it will have much of a connection, but I suppose I should do something now that I've thought of it. She wasn't a member of the fan club herself, but my little sister is pretty close with that organization, so I'll look into it just a teeny bit."

"Your little sister?"

I looked at Gaen-san's clouded expression.

"My little sister (the bigger one)," I amended.

After hearing that, Gaen-san seemed to relax, smiling.

"You mean Karen-chan. Okay, do as you see fit. But, out of concern—from this old lady's point of view—please don't bring Tsukihi-chan into this. Of course, Koyomin, you were originally the one who said you didn't want to cause trouble for your family, but even discounting the thing with Yozuru, things that go well just don't go well when Tsukihi-chan is involved."

She's talking about you in a pretty amazing way, my little sister (the smaller one).

"And, I apologize for the late report, but Shinobu laid out some conditions for her cooperation in Suicidemaster's interrogation."

I presented an outline of the master-servant reversal to Gaen-san. Even though the plan seemed like it would be laughable regardless of the time, place, or occasion...

"Right, that sounds good."

I received the commander's approval.

Of course, she didn't say anything like "I'll do it, too! Let me be a slave, too!"

"Although, rather than an interrogation, it's practically an undercover operation at this point—but if Suicidemaster mistakenly sees that Shinobu-chan is doing well in this country, then she might end up chattering away without any caution."

Mistakenly. Well, she would certainly be mistaken.

Rather than "doing well", she'd been on the verge of being exterminated, on the verge of being killed, and on the verge of death, and in the end failed to die, turned into a little girl, and then ended up sealed in a teenager's shadow.

At any rate, seeing as I'd gotten the go-ahead to put the plan into action, it was inevitable—I wasn't sure if I could pull off the part of a slave, but I would do what I could.

"In that case, even if it didn't have to do with the fan club, I figure I should have a proper discussion with Kanbaru about this, but is there anything I should be careful about when talking to her? The situation has completely changed from yesterday."

"Something to be careful about... I'd like if you could avoid the storm entirely. I know you might feel a sense of duty, but don't go poking your nose into the murky depths of your juniors."

Her advice was not as a specialist but as a person with more seniority in life, but I wanted Kanbaru, too, to follow these words of Gaen-san, who was called a senior by various people.

Even if I couldn't mention Gaen-san's name.

Even if I doubted that Kanbaru would actually follow them.

"I'll stay at this hospital and do my best with the cell phone analysis while waiting for a report from the search party and preparing for the night."

"I'll meet up with Karen-chan and Kanbaru, and if I have some spare time I'll go drop in on Oikura."

"Putting aside your childhood friend, when it comes to your little sister and Suruga, there's no need to wait up until they come back from school. Koyomin, I think you should go back home at least once for a nap. Though I know all-nighters aren't hard on you thanks to your vampire constitution, you must still be at your limit, right?"

That was true.

Thinking about it, vampires, being nocturnal, did go to sleep in the daytime... Just as Shinobu was doing right now.

The truth was, I'd been working out a plan to drop in on Oikura's place until school let out for the day, but it seemed I'd have to abandon that idea.

Even sleeping was work.

Well, if it was around this time, that mathematics maniac was probably in class, too...

"Ah. I know. I'll split the difference and go to Oikura's place to sleep. I have a spare key, after all."

"Childhood friendships are pretty hard for other people to pry into, huh."

032

I decided to just go to my own home. Of course I needed to catch up on sleep, but I wanted to take a bath, too. Alas, I didn't have any clothes to change into at Oikura's place. I'll do something about that later.

Afterwards, I thought about saying thanks to Ononoki-chan for last night—since I'd left in a hurry, I hadn't been able to talk to her about how she relayed Hachikuji's message to me, or how she called over Gaen-san to the mountain after that.

From Ononoki-chan's point of view, I'd gotten a fortune slip and left all of a sudden, and then decided to go to hell—I probably seemed pretty weird to her... I couldn't bear being thought of as a weird guy by Ononoki-chan.

With both parents working, the first daughter a high schooler, and the second daughter a middle schooler, the Araragi house was generally empty in the daytime—I would be able to speak to Ononoki-chan, who'd infiltrated the house as a stuffed doll, without reservations.

It was one thing to give my thanks, but I figured I may as well tell her that Kagenui-san was approaching this town like a hurricane—for Gaen-san and me, it was an approach that was currently fairly inconvenient, but it could be good news for Ononoki-chan, who idolizes (?) Kagenui-san as an "onee-chan".

Because Ononoki-chan was busy with something else, she wasn't participating in this incident, but it wasn't like she was intentionally left out of the loop, unlike Shinobu until she found out—if the conversation went well, perhaps I'd be able to learn about the past between Suicidemaster and Kagenui-san, which I had failed to ask about, or rather, which I had wanted to hear but didn't want to hear.

Perhaps those ulterior motives led to my ruin, for when I arrived home, it was not just my parents and sisters but also that expressionless, frilly-dressed stuffed doll that was absent.

It seemed that young girl was even busier than public servants and middle school students, though not college students.

Well, I'd like to hear as much as what she had to say, but I didn't think it was a past that I wanted to dig into myself... If anything, maybe what I should be doing is to let the foreshadowing die so that her past doesn't get revealed?

Araragi Koyomi, killing the foreshadowing.

With that, feeling a mix of disappointment and relief, I took a shower and crawled into bed.

It seemed I'd been more tired than I realized (perhaps out of worry, too), so I slept soundly until the afternoon, waking only to the sound of Karen's return—despite her training in martial arts, she was a lot noisier in her movements, so it was easy to hear.

"Yo, Karen-chan. By the way, I wanted to ask about Kanbaru's fan club."

"That's way too direct. I haven't even taken off my shoes yet! At least welcome me back. You gotta have some sort of introduction before starting off the main topic with a 'by the way'. What happened?"

Araragi Karen. 16 years old.

She was super tall. My bigger little sister.

Tsuganoki Private High School first-year. She did not take part in any clubs, and continued to attend a martial arts dojo—something like that.

Also, her hairstyle returned to a ponytail.

"Kanbaru-sensei's fan club? Ah, aah. The one that nii-chan smashed up, huh."

"If I didn't break them up, they would've broken me. Just remembering it now, it's super scary."

The fact that she was still calling her Kanbaru-sensei was pretty considerable, but then again, the way Karen yearned for Kanbaru was... pretty unique.

I couldn't exactly give a thorough explanation of the circumstances, so I simply said, "Have you heard anything about, say, them having resumed activities?" and continued the conversation without explaining my reasons.

"Mmm. No, I don't think they have. When an organization like that comes apart once, it's pretty hard to reorganize."

"Is that so?"

"The crux, Kanbaru-sensei, retired, after all. Fans easily heat up and easily cool down."

I see... I guess it was like that.

Just as Karen said, if Kanbaru had continued to be active, then perhaps the fan club could have been passed down to the next generation, but now that the target of their admiration had retired, it was probably hard to gather new members.

And Kanbaru herself wasn't the kind of person that liked attracting that kind of attention, too—I had to admit I felt a bit elated at the inspiration of reading the deciphered code "F/C" as fan club... But I guess it wasn't that easy.

When comparing the girls' basketball team, of which Kanbaru had been a member, with the fan club, which was unofficial and separate... The quality was certainly different—if it became a fan club full of stoicism that could enforce ironclad laws without the actual person in question, it would be one of the best in Japan.

If only it had been "C/F", then it could at least have been read as "center forward", a basketball position...

Well, whether the culprit was in the girls' basketball team or in the fan club, it didn't change the reality that the vampire might be nonchalantly attending Naoetsu High—if that was even possible.

Of course, even though Gaen-san had been trying to implicate me, there were quite a few students that had gotten entangled with oddities, like Senjougahara Hitagi, Hanekawa Tsubasa, Kanbaru Suruga, or Oshino Ougi.

Well, a high school girl being a vampire did make for a prettier picture than a high school boy being a vampire—oh yeah.

"Karen-chan. You're a high school girl now, right?"

"What's with that, all of a sudden? But, that's right. I've become able to get married."

"That's not because you're a high school girl, it's because you've turned 16 years old. If anything, you've gotten harder to marry. Especially for me."

"Nii-chan, for you I'm the most difficult person in the world to marry. I'm your little sister!"

"How does it feel to be a high school girl? Is everything going well with your new friends?"

Regrettably, I pretended to be an overprotective older brother and started a survey to try and collect some live opinions—could even Karen be mired in the murky depths that had been a downer for the easygoing Gaen-san?

"I dunno what sort of school life you mean by 'going well', but this new world is pretty fun. I almost want to go to school on the weekends, too."

That's pretty insane.

But that's true, it's not like all high school girls have a dark side to them. There are individual differences, and it depends on the environment and the situation.

To put it in a good way, Karen's personality was endlessly bright, and to put it in a bad way, she was endlessly idiotic, but that wasn't just it—when surrounded by a stiff atmosphere, even the brightest idiot would lose some of that excitement. However, Karen was a follower of Kanbaru—

"—Oh yeah. Can I ask one more thing, Karen-chan?"

"What is it now? Today, it's all questions and no groping my boobs, huh."

"Don't talk like groping your boobs is a regular occurrence. I'm not going to touch them. This year."

"It was a problem when you've been touching them for the last year. Touching a girl's boobs like you were kneading clay. And? What's the question you were gonna ask?"

"You know the Fire Sisters, that you and Tsukihi-chan were a part of? You guys disbanded after you graduated, right? What happened after that?"

"Whaddya mean what happened. I told you, didn't I? Now, Tsukihi-chan's working hard on her own as Moon Fire."

I may have heard that before, but regrettably, the information she had on her sister was a bit vague.

Not that I could speak for others, considering I was the same way when it came to that sister.

What I wanted to ask was how the community of Tsuganoki 2nd Middle School changed after Karen, the mainstay and core of the school, left, like with the girls' basketball team—wasn't there anything like a war to be the replacement for Tsukihi's partner, or any sort of factional strife?

"Oh, for that, Tsukihi-chan, as the staff officer, handled it pretty well. For better or worse, Tsukihi-chan thinks she's so special that she doesn't expect anyone else, including me, to be able to imitate her."

I see. I'd been worried about my youngest sister's (excessive) self-consciousness, but that was an insight.

As is often the case with hard-working superstars, Kanbaru's self-esteem was quite low, and she had a tendency to believe that "anyone can do what I can do if they work hard enough"—that was something I could appreciate from a human perspective. However, if someone that was charismatic on a national level said such empty words as "if you work hard, your dreams will come true", then it would lead to a generation of people that actually buy into it.

Even though it wasn't Kanbaru's fault, the current state of the girls' basketball team was probably a climate formed by such a belief in hard work.

If I had to say it, when Kanbaru retired from the club because of her left arm, she should've picked a proper successor instead of leaving everything to Higasa-chan—though it was useless to say that now.

"Tsukihi-chan is basically a 'wasted effort is wasted' kind of girl. She'll say stuff like, 'Instead of hard work, just do what needs to be done!' 'If you put in wasted effort, you'll get even farther away from your dreams!'"

"I can't say that leaves a good impression..."

"She'd always insist, 'Find a way to make yourself a lucky boy or Cinderella girl!'"

"Tsukihi-chan probably shouldn't publish any business books. Speaking of which, it worries me that Tsukihi-chan, a middle school student, is coming home later than you, a high school student. Rub rub. What in the world is Moon Fire up to now that she's gone independent?"

"I dunno either. Rather than being independent, Tsukihi-chan's always been a dependent person with an independent spirit. Nii-chan, what were those rubbing sound effects you tried to mix in for the first time this year, without even trying to get them lost in the confusion? And I've heard rumors that you were helping out a magical girl, but how much of that is true?"

"Hmm."

Especially with Kagenui-san's return, I wanted Tsukihi to stay quiet, but she wasn't exactly the kind of sister that listened to her brother.

If I'd been able to talk with Ononoki-chan, I could've asked for her to do something about that... Rather than worry, it made me a little anxious.

Being a big brother was a lifetime job.

"Then, Karen-chan. I'm going to leave the house now, and I don't think I'll be coming back today, so in the meantime, watch over Tsukihi-chan carefully, all right?"

"You mean, today also, right? College students shouldn't be so flashy with their playing around at night. Your new life is an important time for you, too, nii-chan. I don't want to see you get burned like you did when you became a high schooler."

"Those are useful words. Worthy of engraving onto a chest."

"Don't engrave them on my chest!"

033

My fearless (of even a god) strategy to get Hachikuji to sit in the child seat ended in failure.

In transporting the ancient vampire from the Kitashirahebi Shrine to Kanbaru's house while waiting for her awakening (sunset), I'd proposed the formation of putting Hachikuji in the passenger seat and Suicidemaster in the back seat, but considering the size of the target of transportation, I was defeated by the logic that it would be legally safer to secure Suicidemaster, a six-year-old girl, in the child seat.

Well, considering that, in terms of outward appearance, Hachikuji was fixed in the form of a ten-year-old in fifth grade, it was already kind of impossible to fit her in a child seat—and Hachikuji was fairly grown for a ten-year-old. Over the past year, I'd directly felt her measurements with my own hands, so this was for certain. Of course, if the child seat itself were to break, it would be the end of everything.

It was a child seat I hoped to use for many years to come.

However, I'd been worried that Suicidemaster would suddenly go berserk in the middle of the day after being taken out of the shrine and lowered from the sacred mountain, so I consulted with Gaen-san on the phone and ended up applying further seals before securing her in the child seat.

The seals that Hachikuji applied as instructed by Gaen-san were, in simple terms, a blindfold and shackles on her arms and legs, but the image of a blindfolded, shackled little girl in white clothes fastened to a child seat honestly did not make me feel the slightest bit of safety in the legal sense.

If I were to go through police questioning, it wouldn't just end with my license being revoked.

My life would be revoked. Societally.

"A~ah. It was fairly controversial for Araragi-san, who loved his bicycle, to start riding around in a car, but I have to admit that the mobility of a car is certainly different. You can go all over the place, in every direction!"

Hachikuji herself seemed rather happy-go-lucky from the back seat—incidentally, she was in outing mode, which meant she'd changed from her white clothing to her clothes for an outing through the town, with her rucksack on her back.

She was sitting backwards, looking out the rear window, and flapping her legs—was it like a field trip for her?

"Hachikuji. Did your daytime stroll have any results? If you went around looking but couldn't find it, then that would mean the fifth mummy has yet to be made—maybe?"

"I'm not sure. If my godly eyes were able to reach every corner of this town without any problems, you could say this incident would not have happened in the first place. Although it's not that I regret allowing Suicidemaster-san to pass through without security."

"Well, sure."

From Hachikuji's point of view, she might even be a lifesaver—upon Suicidemaster-chan's arrival in Japan, it wouldn't have been odd if she had trampled Hachikuji underfoot, mountain and all.

Even though she was a god, our Hachiku-jin wasn't all-powerful—even in her weakened state, it could be possible for Suicidemaster to defeat even an athletic high school girl in a single blow.

"Hachiku-jin? Please stop. Don't give me a weird nickname. It seems your respect for gods is lacking, you know?"

Hachikuji did a half-turn and took her seat in the normal position.

"I knew that, with the case of Shishirui Seishirou-san, Shinobu-san had messed up twice, after all. I hoped that this could be an opportunity to wipe away that irreversible trauma—although, it would be a lie to say that I wasn't worried about letting Suicidemaster-san meet Shinobu-san, who was currently practically enslaved by a human."

That's why I'm all for the master-servant reversal, said Hachikuji.

"Although, I think it would be better to be honest about it afterwards. It would be sad to lose a friendship because of vanity. When I was alive, there was a boy in my class that I was close to, but because I'd been too vain—"

"Let's save that story for another time, Hachikuji. When Gaen-san called earlier and taught us about the sealing methods, I tried probing a bit, but it doesn't seem like they've found the fifth mummy yet."

"You seem way too uninterested in my flashback scene, Araragi-san."

"The analysis of the cell phone is still in progress, but it doesn't seem like there's any traces of her having made a call or sent a text or used an app since Kanguu-chan went missing, so it's hard to pin down the time of the crime. In other words, we still don't have proof of Suicidemaster's alibi."

I glanced at the little girl in the passenger seat.

The golden-haired little girl fixed in the child seat, in white clothing, blindfolded, arms and legs shackled.

"Is that so? Well, my credibility is at stake, too. I'll cooperate to the full extent of my power. Is it fine if I pretend to be a slave, too? Uhehehe."

"You sound less like a vampire's slave and more like a slave to money. Mm, I've thought about it, but..."

"So you've thought about it? Turning Hachikuji Mayoi into a slave?"

"But ultimately, a vampire's slave should be at least a little vampiric, or the lie will be found out. If it were Ononoki-chan, I may have just barely asked her to, but she's on bad terms with Shinobu. Plus, she's away at the moment, so it seems I'll have to be the only slave. If anything, Hachikuji, you can act as the local deity and be a guarantor for the relationship between Shinobu and me."

Not a bondsman, but a bondsgod.

It seemed rather apt.

Just as we were about to arrive at Kanbaru's house, the cell phone that I had left in the cup holder between the driver and passenger seats buzzed. This time, a call from Gaen-san—had the fifth mummy, Kiseki-chan's mummy, finally been discovered?

I felt slightly nervous, but I was driving, after all, so there was no way I could be the one to pick it up.

I'll leave it to my secretary.

"Who are you calling your secretary? Yes, hello? This is Hachikuji."

Seems like you've taken a liking to it.

"Araragi is currently driving. Yes. Yes. —Yes, I see. Understood. I'll let him know."

Finishing up the short phone call, Hachikuji returned the cell phone to its original position.

"What was it. Did we make any progress?"

"Rather than progress, it's more like we've fallen backwards."

That was Hachikuji's response.

"Putting aside the 'F C' initials, it seems they've completed their brute-force investigation of the remaining members of the girls' basketball team who were on the register, but everyone has been confirmed to be safe."

Everyone was confirmed to be safe?

"Isn't that a good thing? It's the first good news we've heard in a while. What's so backward about good news that's really worth celebrating?"

"The fact that they're safe means that they're also innocent—the results of the investigation made it clear that there is no vampire among the remaining members of the basketball team."

Back to square one.

034

The girls' basketball team members were cleared of suspicion, the fan club was also cleared of suspicion, and there were no signs of another vampire that could be associated with "F/C".

With this, Deathtopia Virtuoso Suicidemaster wasn't just the prime suspect, she was the only suspect—the only reason that could lead me to believe that she was innocent would be Shinobu's testimony that "Suicidemaster, whose diet is unbalanced to the point of refusing food, would never suck the blood of an immature high school girl".

Tonight's interrogation was becoming increasingly important—it wasn't an exaggeration to say that everything depended on my ability to act as a slave.

I never thought that I would get the opportunity to become a slave to a little girl and deceive another little girl, but I guess I never really know where life will go.

There were many things that made me think that my high school years were the peak of my life, but as I lived on, there were many more interesting things occurring.

And with that, a greeting to my sponsor, Kanbaru.

The sealed little girl and the deified girl had been left in the New Beetle parked in the parking lot of Kanbaru's home—of course, I'd made sure the air conditioner was left on. It certainly wouldn't do if I left two children in a car and came back to find that they'd been mummified.

"Hiya, Araragi-senpai. We only just saw each other yesterday, but it feels like it's been so long ago."

"It hasn't been that long!"

"Yes, now here, the key to the house. Use it however you like."

I figured it was impossible for an ordinary person to imitate this sort of openness—if you tried too hard to act simple, you'd crumble under the stress.

However, they say a person is only as unhappy as the number of keys they have... I wonder how many keys I will have in my lifetime.

"Tonight, we decided to hold a pajama party at Higasa's place. If you've made any progress with the matter from yesterday, I can pass it onto her."

It wasn't progress, but falling backwards.

But it was a bit hard to say that.

However, I couldn't turn back now, and I was committed to it—I wasn't going to pretend that I didn't know anything about the girls' basketball team now.

Regardless of the outcome of this case, I should work together with Kanbaru and Higasa to come up with a plan to reform, or perhaps break down, the current situation. Without going against Gaen-san. She'd called it a pajama party, but it seemed it was actually a gathering of the OGs of the girls' basketball team to brainstorm about the current situation of the younger team members...

This had nothing to do with Karen's remarks, but as a former near-dropout of that high school, I couldn't just leave behind the students that seemed like they would drop out. Even if it was odd to speak of me, who nearly dropped out on my own, and the club members, who were about to drop out because of their stranglehold from club activities, in the same breath.

"Oh yeah, Kanbaru. When you ended up reuniting with Hitagi-san, the senior that you yearned for, at Naoetsu High, what kind of airs did you put on?"

"Airs? What do you mean by that?"

Of course.

Even if the person she was talking to was a senior she admired, she wasn't the type to pretend to be something that she wasn't—she was the type of person to charge in just as she was. If anything, it was maybe Hitagi-san that was likely to put on airs at the time.

Or display her stubbornness.

As a result, it would end up taking over a year before Senjougahara Hitagi and Kanbaru Suruga, the Valhalla Combination, would reunite.

"Huh. You're talking as if you're looking for wisdom in regards to Shinobu-chan reuniting with an old acquaintance!"

"I didn't talk like that!"

I didn't even bring up Shinobu's name!

She certainly was Gaen-san's niece, and I couldn't let down my guard—if I let something slip, this capable junior might decide to get involved all on her own.

She might decide to pretend to be a slave all on her own.

As someone who felt badly about the fact that I'd gotten her involved in the case of Shishirui Seishirou because of my own personal circumstances, this was a situation I wanted to avoid.

I needed to make up some reason to change the subject and get rid of her as soon as possible.

"Oh yeah, Kanbaru."

"Araragi-senpai, you sure come up with things frequently, don't you. What is it?"

"There's one more thing I wanted to ask of you—"

035

Though we'd settled on Kanbaru's place for our choice of location, it would be effectively impossible to clean up my junior's disastrously messy room before sunset, and, even if she'd told me to use the house however I liked, it certainly wouldn't do to infringe upon the territory of her grandfather and grandmother, so we ultimately decided upon using the Japanese mansion's garden for the revival of Deathtopia Virtuoso Suicidemaster.

Much like at Ryōan-ji, it was a Japanese rock garden.

Well, even if it was a measure of desperation, the mansion gave off much more of a castle-like impression when viewed from outside rather than being inside.

Yesterday, it had felt like I'd greeted nightfall feeling like I'd run out of time without doing everything I had to do, but today, it felt like I'd done everything I could and was greeting the night having run out of material. Now, I wonder what will happen?

"Thanks for waiting. So, shall we begin?"

At the moment the sun had set about halfway, Gaen-san appeared with a one shou bottle—the ones to welcome her were me; Shinobu, who had woken up early and crawled out of my shadow; Hachiku-jin, our witness; and Suicidemaster, who had been laid down—it seemed a little too pitiful to lay a restrained little girl on the bare ground, so I'd put down a rush mat (I'd found the rush mat in Kanbaru's room—why did she have something like that?).

All the actors were in place.

The show must go on.

"I've set up a barrier going all the way around the mansion, so if by some chance a battle breaks out, we'll be fine."

"That 'some chance' is what I'd like to avoid... But, Gaen-san. What's with that bottle?"

"Well, I am a specialist, after all. Wine would be better for vampires, but I figured we could do this the Japanese way, with sacred sake for a demon."

I guess I couldn't rely on crosses and holy water in a Japanese mansion with a shrine's god present... Her behavior was as if she'd come to a late-night drinking party, but in this Japanese mansion it held an air of sophistication.

"You should've come in full dress, then."

"Did you want to see me in shrine maiden's clothes, Koyomin? Unfortunately, I don't respect formalities and ceremonies as much as Meme does. I may be a pacifist, but at the same time, I'm a rationalist."

Indeed, now that I thought about it, that careless-seeming middle-aged Hawaiian shirt guy was surprisingly pretty picky about arrangements and whatnot to the point of irrationality... And looking closely, Gaen-san's bottle was just a bottle of cheap sake from a discount store... It was a bit difficult to call that sacred sake.

I guess it's the Gaen way to push through what's difficult.

"Goodness, I never thought I'd be visiting the Kanbaru house that rejected my dear sister like this—the wheel of fate sure turns."

As she spoke in an amused manner, Gaen-san casually turned over the one shou bottle and poured it over the body of the little girl.

Rather than occult ceremony, if anything, it seemed more like the "magic kettle" thing they did in rugby clubs.

Good, judging from that composed demeanor of hers, it seemed Gaen-san had managed to safely get through the murky swamp of the high school girls.

"Ooh. White clothing getting wet and sticking to a little girl's body... Kind of erotic, don't you think?"

Hachikuji made a vulgar remark, unbecoming of a god—for the record, though I hadn't touched upon it (double meaning) out of kindness, when you were meditating under a waterfall for a joke yesterday, you looked the same way, y'know?

Putting that aside.

"By the way, Shinobu-sama."

"...... Hm? Ah, you mean me, my master?"

She wasn't getting into her role at all.

Her servile disposition was so deeply ingrained in her.

"I mean, my servant. What is it?"

"Even if you catch it right away... Well, it's fine. Listen, Shinobu-sama. My master. Would you allow me the honor of inquiring something of you?"

"If you bring that quality of acting to the real thing, it'll be your fault if we get found out, my mast... my servant."

I think it would be both our faults.

But since we didn't have time, I continued instead of retorting.

"I haven't really thought too deeply about this until now, but... What's it like, living for six hundred years?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, if I may be permitted to speak for myself, I believe I have undergone quite a few changes, just looking back over the past year."

"Speak normally. I can't tell what you're saying at all."

Right.

I didn't even know what I was saying at all.

"In the course of our lives, we change our opinions, change our minds, realize our mistakes, and learn right from wrong, right? I won't make friends, because my strength as a human would decrease—when I used to say that, I really believed it, and I don't think I could have believed back then that I would have normal friends in college."

And that was in just a single year.

If that had been six hundred years—I'd ended up suddenly wondering how I would feel when I looked back on the past.

"I can't tell what you're saying at all, even when you're talking normally—after all, I've been quick to cast away the past that I can't remember."

Was it because she couldn't remember, or because she didn't want to remember? She probably didn't even remember that.

Well, it's fine. I just wanted something to say at the last minute—not even I, speaking normally, could tell what I was saying at all.

Just because they were meeting again after six hundred years, didn't mean they had to make the same decisions they made six hundred years ago—is that what I wanted to say? However—if I ran into Kissshot Acerolaorion Heartunderblade on the verge of death in an alleyway again, what if I would offer up my neck again, just like I had done a year ago?

"In the first place, before oddities are immortal, they're unchanging, universal. They don't change so frequently, like humans do."

"Then, let me ask you the same thing I did in that spring break. Shinobu, to you..."

To you, what are humans?

When Oshino Shinobu had not been Oshino Shinobu, when she had been the vampire, Kissshot Acerolaorion Heartunderblade, she had responded immediately.

She'd responded—"food".

But for Shinobu now, that was incorrect.

Even under the premise that she was sealed—but when you took that out, it was still incorrect.

However, what she would respond was another matter entirely—and it was as if Shinobu had been caught off guard, because for a moment, she fell silent. But, as if aiming for that moment...

"O devourer, o imbiber, o lurker! Now that the holy sun has set, tear open the coffin and rise! Boil the flesh in blood, and stir it with the bones!"

Gaen-san started chanting something like a magic spell that had taken the world by storm a few decades ago—it seemed like a joke, but it was for real, right?

"Come together with the night! Deathtopia Virtuoso Suicidemaster!"

It seemed like the sort of hackneyed incantation that I would've been convinced if she'd said, "Just kidding," but in that instant, the little girl soaked in cheap sake began to glow gold—or so it seemed.

But it was just my imagination, and my misunderstanding.

In actuality, the girl who had been sleeping as if she were dead had suddenly opened her eyes—the blindfold flew open, revealing two eyes as golden as her hair, and it had felt to me as if they were glowing.

Miss Suicidemaster's facial features, who had previously appeared as expressionless as Ononoki-chan's, became clearer as she awoke—though they had the same golden hair and golden eyes, she gave off a different impression from Shinobu.

The sake that had been sprinkled over her evaporated in an instant—not only the shackles on her arms and legs, but even the sash of her white clothing flew off, just like her blindfold.

Had Gaen-san broken the seal, or had the little girl herself broken it? It wasn't clear from afar—but if anything, my impressions were more towards the latter, and I couldn't help but think, "What part of her is weakened?"

I was just beginning to regret my thoughtless act of treatment, which made me recall my actions last spring break, and was wondering if it would have been better to leave her as a mummy, but then...

Creak!

The little girl's face turned towards me.

Lying on her side, only her head turned to look towards me—no.

Not me. Those golden eyes had fixed their gaze upon the one standing on my shadow, the other little girl in this garden—within moments of waking up, the ancient vampire had sensed her former thrall.

And then.

"Ha."

She said.

"Ha." "Ha."

She said.

"Ha." "Ha." "Ha."

She said.

"Ha! Ha ha! Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

She said—sprawled out on the ground, from the lowest position imaginable, her laugh rang out louder than I could have imagined.

And in response to that loud laugh, Shinobu, who had borne vivid witness to her former "master"'s revival—

"Ha."

She said.

"Ha." "Ha."

She said.

"Ha." "Ha." "Ha."

She said.

"Ha! Ha ha! Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

She—laughed in return.

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

If it weren't for the barrier, their loud exchange laughter would surely have disturbed the neighbors—it was like microphone feedback. How long had it gone for?

Six hundred years. A thousand years.

Did it go on for eternity?

It was quite the uproarious bout of laughter, as if Gaen-san and Hachikuji and I weren't even there in that garden, but it was finally brought to an end.

"Somehow or other, it seems I've died again."

That was the remark from the little girl on her back.

And, hearing that, Shinobu shrugged her shoulders.

"It seems we've both grown old," she said.

The two little girls had reunited for the first time in six hundred years.

[twiceinadream]

“In another life.”

Requested: Yup

Request: Y/N always makes it to Tzuyu' concert, even when Twice wasn't famous back then and performed outdoors instead of on a stage. She was Tzuyu's first fan, making banners and stuff for her but she never reveals her identity to Tzuyu, choosing to support her in the shadows. (I wrote this fic with two endings, but I thought this one was best)

a/u: Hey, guys! I hope you are all doing well during these intense times and I hope you are staying safe. This is dedicated to a dear friend of mine, I love you Z. I hope you all enjoy! I love you all! Stay safe and wash your hands.

Parts: 1.) Fem! S/O Confesses They Love Them and 3.) “I’ll love you too.” (Alternate Ending: “Screw fate.”)

Category: Fluff and Angst

Word Count: 1.8k

It had been three long years since Tzuyu had left Taiwan to follow her dreams of becoming a singer. You had fallen out of touch with your best friend the first year she left, but still couldn’t go a day without thinking of her. Until you received a text from your friend that would change your life forever.

The text read: Hey, Y/N! Isn’t that, Tzuyu!?[JYP’s New Girl Group: TWICE Announced]

You clicked the link that led to what seemed to be the ending of a show announcing the debut of a brand new girl group. And as you searched the faces of all the girls on stage, you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat when your eyes landed on Tzuyu. A wide smile forming on your lips as you began tearing up as well, ‘I knew she could do it.’

~TWICE’s First Concert~

You had never been to Korea in your life, but you were determined to be there for your best friend as you watched her dreams become a reality. The turn out was small but you made sure to take whatever pictures you could of Tzuyu while you were there cheering for her, planning to open a fansite for her when you returned to your hotel room.

-5 Years Later-

Five years had passed since Twice had debuted and you couldn’t help but feel pride swell in your chest, as you watched Tzuyu grow before your eyes. Twice had officially become Korea’s Girl Group and your small fansite had grown to be the most well known on the internet, so much that even Twice themselves were aware of you.

But, even through the years you still kept your identity secret, working under false accounts when you finally worked up the courage to finally send something to your best friend, a gift she would know in an instant.

-

Twice had just finished the first, TWICELIGHTS, and waiting for Tzuyu backstage were a bouquet of purple hibiscuses with a small note attached to it in Mandarin.

The note read: Hey there, Tzumong. It’s been years and I can’t believe you hadn’t figured out who was running your fansite. It’s been way too long and we should catch up some time when you come home. [Your phone number]

The maknae had a look of disbelief on her face as she read the note again and again. She couldn’t believe you had been supporting her this whole time and she had no idea.

Jeongyeon gave her concerned look as she placed a hand on her shoulder, “You okay, Tzuyu-ah.”

The younger nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just…a little homesick.”

-

It had been months since you sent those flowers to Tzuyu but with their world tour taking most of her time, she hadn’t had time to respond to you until now.

Tzuyu: Hi, Y/N.

I know you sent me those flowers months ago, but as you know we’ve been on tour and I haven’t gotten a chance to reach out to you until now. So, I’m here to tell you that I’ll be coming home in a few weeks and was wondering if it would be possible if you could pick me up at the airport?

Y/N: It’s no problem at all, Tzu. Of course, I understand how busy you are and I’m so happy to finally catch up after all these years. And I have some pretty exciting news that I think you’ll love.

Your smile grew as you sent the text, setting the date of Tzuyu’s arrival on your phone’s calendar. A long sigh escaped your lips as you tried your best to hide the smile that seemed to start growing on its own. You laughed softly as you put a hand in your hair, “I can’t believe I’m gonna finally see her after all these years.” Your smile began to fade, a thought crossing your mind, ‘What if she really did wait?’

You shook your head as you dismissed the thought, now solely focused on waiting for Tzuyu’s arrival.

-

When the day had finally arrived after weeks of waiting, you were beyond ecstatic to see your best friend again. Doing your best to push the memories of the last days you two had spent together all those years ago, shaking off the feeling of what it felt like to have your heart broken.

You closed your eyes to clear away the thoughts as you stood waiting in the terminal, your heart beating out of your chest when your eyes found Tzuyu’s staring right back at you. Your nervousness seemed to disappear in an instant as you and Tzuyu ran towards each other, catching her in a hug, “I can’t believe you're finally back!”

The now idol smiled as she pulled back slightly, looking you over, “You haven’t changed a bit. I’m so happy to see you again, Y/N!” You couldn’t hide the wide smile on your face as you grabbed her suitcase for her and walked her out to your car, placing her bags in the trunk as you got in and began driving back to your home.

(Which you had insisted Tzuyu stayed in while she was here.)

As you drove, the two of you made small talk as Tzuyu stared out the window, “Hey, look at that. It’s our old high school.” You let out a grim laugh as an awkward silence filled your car.

“Uh, I hope you’re hungry. My girlfriend is making beef noodle soup for us.” At the mention of your girlfriend, Tzuyu’s eyes couldn’t help but widen as she suddenly felt a dull pain in her chest.

“Wait. Girlfriend?” You cringed as you gripped the steering wheel mentally slapping yourself as you let it slip.

“Yeah...um,” you cleared your throat awkwardly refusing to look at the girl beside you, “that was the surprise I talked about. I met a girl two years after you left and we just kinda hit it off. Her name’s Yerin and she’s amazing, Tzu, I know you’re gonna love her.” The maknae nodded as the dull pain in her chest seemed to stab into her heart.

She forced a smile as you kept driving, “That sounds great, Y/N, I’m really happy for you. I can’t wait to meet her.”

-

When the two of you arrived back at your home, you quickly went to open Tzuyu’s door before rushing to the trunk to retrieve her bags. When you opened the door to your home, you were hit with the smell of food in the air, “We’re home!” You yelled as a girl suddenly appeared from another room, an excited look on her face as she looked at Tzuyu.

Your girlfriend approached her slowly, bowing slightly, “It’s an honor to meet you, Tzuyu, I’m Yerin. I’m a Once myself, and it’s crazy to think you and Y/N were best friends in high school!”

You smiled as you set your friend’s bags by the door, placing a quick kiss on your girlfriend's cheek, “The soup smells amazing! Thank you.” Yerin smiled as she wrapped an arm around your waist, the action catching Tzuyu’s attention as she felt her heart sink.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Yerin. Y/N was telling me so many great things about you on the way here.” Tzuyu said as she sat across from the two of you, “Thank you again for lunch, it smells delicious.”

Yerin smiled proudly as she leaned against you, “It’s no problem, just an old family recipe Y/N insisted that you would love.”

Tzuyu nodded as she picked up the chopsticks beside her and began eating, frowning internally at the taste of the food. A defeated feeling welling up in her chest, ‘And she’s a good cook too.’

-

As the week progressed it went on without a hitch, the awkwardness of the first day long forgotten as you and Tzuyu made up for all the time you two had lost. Spending most days reliving your high school years and talking of all that had happened while you were apart. But with all that aside, Tzuyu was also taken back to wondering why she had ever let you go.

The three of you sat on the roof of your home as you guys stargazed. Listening to all the adventures Tzuyu had gone on with her members, “Yeah, America was so fun to visit again, but, it was even better when Mina Unnie had joined us in Japan.” Tzuyu blushed slightly as the honorific slipped out by accident, making you and Yerin laugh.

“Too much Korean on the brain, huh, Tzumong.” You poked her shoulder playfully as you smiled.

Making Tzuyu laugh along awkwardly, “Yeah, I guess I don’t come back as much as I think I do.” A pained smile on her face as she took in your profile, regret flooding her veins as she looked at Yerin’s head on your shoulder, ‘Why did I ever say, no, to you Y/N?’

-

After that night, the rest of the week seemed to pass by in a blur. And before the two of you knew it, it was time for Tzuyu to return to Korea.

You looked at your friend one last time before setting down her suitcase on the front porch, “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you back?”

Tzuyu took in the hopeful look in your eyes, but shook her head, “No, I’m alright Y/N. I’ve caused you both enough trouble this week.” Your smile faltered slightly making Tzuyu blush, “Sorry. What I’m trying to say is, ‘Thank you.’” The idol looked between you and Yerin, “The both of you.”

You frowned slightly as you nodded, “Of course, it’s been…” The sound of a horn honking caught the three of you off guard as you looked at the cab in the street.

“Well that’s for me.” Tzuyu smiled as she leaned down to hug Yerin, before placing a hand on you, “Thank you again, Y/N, for supporting me all this time. Hopefully we can do this again soon.” The maknae squeezed your shoulder before picking up her suitcase and making the walk to the taxi waiting for her.

You couldn’t help but notice the ache that began to fill your chest as you watched Tzuyu hand the driver her luggage, turning away to open the door. Without thinking, you ran down from the porch and towards the cab, “Tzu, wait!”

At the sound of your voice, she had just enough time to turn as you barreled into her, your arms wrapping around her waist and shoulders as you hugged her tight. You buried your head into her shoulder as a few tears slipped down your cheek, soaking into her shirt as she grasped the back of your shirt. Tzuyu held back her tears as she rested her head in the crook of your neck, holding you closer.

You inhaled sharply to stop your tears, before pulling away to whisper in Tzuyu’s ear, “In another life, Tzuyu, I promise: we’d love each other too.”

As the words left your mouth, you moved out of her embrace, a sad smile on your lips as you turned away from her. A dull pain filled your chest as you heard the door to the taxi close and pull away from the curb. You felt your heart pull in the direction of the cab as you thought of the part of your heart that would always remain with Tzuyu. A similar feeling also seemed to fill Tzuyu, as she felt her heart seize in her chest.

Since it seemed as though a part of her heart would always be with you too.

[nicka-nell]

I'm Kiyoomi Sakusa and I'm a germaphobe - Chapter 34: From nightmare to dream and picture book (END)

Words: 2.357 Warning: fluff, manga spoiler

Chapter 33 -  When everything breaks, I believe in you.     | Masterlist

(y/n) = your name | (l/n) = last name | (e/c) = eye colour | (h/c) = hair colour  | (c/n) = child name

Time flies and Kiyoomi holds his little miracle in his arms and hopes that her first words will be Father and not Mother. (y/n) is still at the weekly market when Kiyoomi sits on the couch with his little daughter and holds her tiny hands in his. “Fa- ther.” he forms the words with his mouth. But the little one looks at him questioningly. “Fa-ther” he repeats, but again nothing. Slightly sulking, he lifts her up and holds her tightly in his arm. “It’s no big deal. You don’t have to say Father yet. You’re still my little princess.” lovingly, he gives her a kiss on her little nose and watches her smile on him joyfully. It looks so funny when such a small creature smiles without teeth. “Kiyoomi? Darling? Are you there?” he hears the voice of (y/n). “We’re in the living room!” he calls to her. With the groceries in hand, she walks past the two into the kitchen, followed by Kiyoomi and her little ones. “Do you need help?” he asks, with his daughter still in his arms. “No. Thank you, darling.” she smiles and greets her husband and their daughter with many kisses. “Hello my little (c/n).” (y/n) greets her. “Mo-ther!” she mumbles incoherently to herself. Both look at her with big eyes. “Did she just say mother?” asks (y/n) Kiyoomi. For real? All the time he’s practicing the word father with her and the first thing she says is mother? “No, I think she said father.” Kiyoomi tries to talk himself into it. “She must have said mother.” (y/n) grins mischievously and looks over again in (c/n). “Did you say Mo- ther or Fa- ther my little sunshine?” Her tiny hands still cling to Kiyoomis shirt as she looks at her mother. “Mo- ther, mo- ther, mother.” she says a little louder and faster. (y/n) looks triumphantly over to Kiyoomi with her eyebrow raised, who turns away from her with an eye roll and sulking mouth. “You won. You two have already conspired against me. How will that be when she can speak properly?” he keeps pouting. “Come on, honey, come on. Don’t be such a bad loser.” (y/n) calls him from the kitchen. “Yes...” he murmurs surly and sits down on the couch with(c/n). - Kiyoomi is often at his training. However, try to take as much time as possible for his family. Because his family is the most important thing to him. He doesn’t want (y/n) to be solely responsible for the education. After all, they decided to have a child together. Therefore, he only plays as a substitute for the Japanese national team. But still has to come to important games. Today he has another game, fortunately in Japan. Somewhat tensely, he says goodbye to his two favorite in the morning and then goes to the hall where the game will take place. The hall is filled with several hundred thousand people and the crowd is raging as they see the players of the national team enter the hall. “So many people...” he muttered as he looked around the hall. “Hey, Sakusa, how’s your wife and daughter? Are they also at the game today?” he hears Ushijimas voice behind him. Thoughtfully he turns to his fellow player and stays in his movement. “Ushijima. (y/n) is fine and (c/n) is also fine. They are not here today. I think (y/n) wanted to meet my father.” He mumbles to himself. “Oh... To bad... I haven't seen them in a while. Maybe we’ll see them again at practice soon? Will you bring them back soon?” he asks curiously. Because he likes (y/n) and he also likes little (c/n). She liked to be lifted up by him or sit on his shoulders. “I can ask them if they want to come next time. Yes.” he answers him with a small smile. But what he doesn’t know, (y/n) had talked to his coach and managed to stand behind the barrier with her little daughter in the front row. She wore one of Kiyoomis jerseys and had also bought her little princess a small jersey, which was still too big for her, because the jerseys were only for children from three years. (y/n), with her daughter in her arms and (c/n), with a rattle and a flag bearing her father’s name, are looking for Kiyoomi. They start the game and Kiyoomi has the serve. “Go Dad! Go Dad!” brings him the voice of a very familiar person from the concept. With his eyes searching for the voice, he looks into the crowd until he sees his wonderful wife and his beloved daughter standing in the front row with a wide smile. A narrow but loving smile draws his face, and he waves to the two briefly, but then concentrates again on the game and makes one of his best serves. It is not easy for their team to play against such a strong team as the Argentina's. But after two exhausting hours they can look forward to it. Because they did it and they won. The players embrace each other with joy, but Kiyoomi is the first to break away from the embrace of his comrades. Then he wants to go to his wife and daughter. Hold them in his arms. “What a nice surprise that you two are here.” he greets them joyfully and hugs them. “You did a great job, darling.” (y/n) grins and gives him a kiss. “Great Dad! Great Dad!” Even the little pretty (c/n), who sits on (y/n)’s arms, is happy. She has her eyes, but her father’s dark and curly hair. “Come here my little one!” Like a proud father, he takes her out of (y/n)’s arms and lifts her up. The cameras on them don’t bother him. Because the most important thing right now is his family. “Hello (y/n)!” Ushijima greets her and looks at Kiyoomi. “Didn’t you say they weren’t here today?” Laughing, (y/n) beats her hand on his shoulder. “That was a surprise. He didn’t know we were going to be here." With a barely visible smile Ushijima looks from (y/n) over to (c/n), who also looks at him joyfully and reaches her hands out to him. “Wow just look at yourself (c/n). You've grown up so well my pretty girl. Shall we look again at the clouds and let you fly?” he asks her. She joyfully raises her hands, cause on Ushijimas shoulders everything looks completely different. After the departure of the Argentine team, the team decides to go to Osamu together with (y/n) and her little one to celebrate their victory. Having arrived there, Osamu is already expecting the troop, but is most looking forward to his little princess. When he sees her, he approaches Kiyoomi with sparkling eyes and takes the little one from his arms. “There’s my little princess! Do you want to come back to the kitchen with Uncle Osamu and make Onigiris?” he asks joyfully. “Yes! Uncle Osamu is great, but dad is greater!” Laughing, (y/n) puts her hand on her stomach. “That means better, my pretty one.” Thoughtfully she looks at her mother and then looks at Osamu again. “Dad is better!” She grins, but that’s fine with him. As long as he’s in second place with Kaede, that’s okay. When the two disappear in the kitchen, Kiyoomi and (y/n) sit down next to Atsumu, who still pouts because the small whirlwind did not want to come to him. She kept saying that Atsumu was a stray. Whoever taught him that... “Don’t sulk around Atsumu...” sighs Kiyoomi, who puts his hand on his forehead. “Did you really teach (c/n) I’m a stray? What's wrong with you Omi-Omi?” he keeps pouting. “But I'm right with that. Who knows where you’ve been all day.”, hisses Kiyoomi. Atsumu wants to answer him just as a voice prevents him. “Can we join you all?” This voice... He knows that voice. Somewhat surprised, Kiyoomi looks at the entrance and sees Kaede and his father entering the restaurant. “Father?” he asks a little surprised. “I wanted to congratulate you on your victory. Besides, I wanted to see my granddaughter. (y/n) told me she wasn’t coming to me today, but that I could come to the store after your game.” With raised corners of the mouth, Kiyoomi greets the two men. Not only did he have a wonderful wife by his side, an incredibly great child, friends who stand by him, and a well-running career. He has had very good contact with his father since his accident. He and his siblings were at their wedding and congratulated the two. He didn’t want his mother there. He didn’t forgive her for what she did to (y/n). His father is often at their home and plays with (c/n), reads to her or makes a few trips with her. His siblings also visit the three regularly. And his cousin? Yes, he is there almost every week and does a lot with them. And from Osamu and Kaede he doesn’t even have to start. The two are felt thirty of twenty-four hours a day there. They always help (y/n) when Kiyoomi is abroad. Sometimes he has to admit that he is also jealous. Because the men were also there in situations in which Kiyoomi himself would have liked to participate, but he had to go abroad for a volleyball game. For example, Kaede was there when (c/n) first said 'Dad is the best'. Osamu was there when she got her first tooth. But Kiyoomi was also there in many situations. He was there when she took her first steps, at her first word. When she was sick for the first time, (y/n) and he sat at her bed all night and measured her fever. He was also the one who got up at night when (c/n) cried. The only thing he didn’t like was changing diapers. To this day, he does not understand how such a small person can bring so much out of herself and how the diaper dustbin can stink so much. “But then you have to get her away from her beloved uncle Osamu.” (y/n) grins and puts her hand on Kiyoomis lap. Your touch gets him out of his mind. “Wait! Osamu won’t be the better uncle!” Kaede hisses sulking and stomping towards the kitchen. Followed by Bokuto and Atsumu, who also believe that Osamu should not be the only one who can seize this sweet little princess. Also Hinata wants to play again and runs after the men. “Osamu! Give us (c/n) finally! She is not just yours. We all want to play with her and make her laugh. The little mouse doesn’t always have to sit in the kitchen with you!” Atsumu calls to his brother as he stomps into the kitchen. “Yes Osamu! Just because you’re her godfather doesn’t mean she can’t do anything with her real uncle. So give me my little princess.” Kaede also calls to him into the kitchen, followed by Bokuto and Hinata. Ushijima, who is sitting at the table in front of Kiyoomi, clears his throat and stands up. “If you’ll excuse me. I have to go to the bathroom.” He says in a quiet monotonous tone. But he does not move towards the toilets, but also goes into the kitchen. “Don’t be so loud. You still scare little (c/n).” he says earnestly and goes over to Osamu, who holds (c/n) in his arms and protects her from the men in the kitchen. “May I?” asks Ushijima and takes without waiting for an answer, (c/n) from Osamus arms. “We both wanted to fly again after the game. Right?” Usually Ushijima never smiles. But (c/n) warms his heart, and without realizing it, his corners of his mouth warp. “Yes! Fly, fly, fly!” she shouts joyfully, while Ushijima puts her on his shoulders. “Excuse us.” are the last words that come out of Ushijima as he passes the men together with (c/n). Partly sulking, partly with open mouths, they all stand silently in the kitchen and look after Ushijima as he walks away with little (c/n). “But she’s still far too young to leave with such a serious person as Ushijima. She needs idiots like us...” Bokuto sulks. “She grows up so fast.” Atsumu complains when his brother pulls a rag through his face. “So! Now get out of my kitchen!” “If I’d known we were going to bring such a crazy bunch together, I would have stayed in bed today.” Kiyoomi sighs a little desperately and leans his head against (y/n)’s shoulder. “But this colorful bunch belongs to us Kiyoomi. They love us and we love them, too.” (y/n) answers, lovingly scratching his head with her hand. Yes, this colorful bunch belongs to them and somehow it also completes their colorful picture book. Kiyoomi would never have thought that he would be so happy at some point. And all this is thanks to (y/n). Her, her personality and his then sprained index finger. “I love you, my queen.” He whispers softly and a gentle smile draws his lips. “I love you too, darling.” Together with (y/n), he is already looking forward to getting old and cranky and sitting together with her in two rocking chairs on the terrace. Holding her wool while she knits little baby socks for her grandchildren. In the end, it was not wrong to face his fear... although he is still a germaphobe and could not completely overcome his fear... because he has gained something wonderful instead... A life like a picture book.

Taglist: @kara-grayson04​ @suna-allie​ @pleasemelafook-outta-ere​

[jeonggukookies]

better || two

summary: jimin thinks trying on wedding dresses will cheer you up after a night of disaster 

word count: 4,131 (hi guys i am so sorry it’s been seven months but here’s chapter two!)

genre: bestfriend!jimin, college!au, bestfriends to lovers!au angst/fluff/slow burn

one || two

“Jimin, come on!” You shouted over the loud music blaring from the bathroom. It had been over five minutes since you started pounding on the white wooden door for Jimin to come out of the bathroom. “When I said ‘take your time,’ I didn’t actually mean it! I still need to get ready!” 

“Everything takes time!” He yelled back, causing you to groan. The door was suddenly swung opened. He looked at you with his red towel in his right hand, drying his black hair. “Would you like to come in? I just need to dry my hair.”

You scoffed and walked in. “I can’t believe you’re asking me if I would want to come to my own bathroom.” 

“I think you mean, our bathroom,” he joked, trying to make you smile. 

“You don’t live here.” Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your curling wand from the drawer. You plugged the wand in the outlet and then lowered the volume of Jimin’s music coming from his small black portable speaker. “If it’s ever this loud again, it’s going into the toilet.”

“What crawled up your ass?” You gave him a death glare as he stared back at you in the mirror. He was wearing a white long sleeve shirt with light-blue ripped jeans. “Everything okay?”

“Anna just broke up with Hobi, so guess who’s coming to the club tonight.” Jimin groaned. 

As much as you loved Hobi, you were not the biggest fan of brokenhearted Hobi. It wasn’t because he would cry, rant and sulk about his breakup; it was because he would turn to alcohol and sex and would go too crazy for a good week. He becomes that one lightweight uncle that drinks way too much and spills everyone’s secrets at family reunions.  In fact, you and Tiffany first met Hobi three years ago. You two were in line for the girls’ bathroom, and not wanting to wait any longer, you kicked the door open to find him drunk, puking on the floor. You had to drag him out, made him drink a bunch of water and made several dozen calls on his phone, trying to find someone to pick him up to take him home. Eventually, his friend answered the call, laughed, apologized and picked up Hobi ten minutes later. 

The next day, as you were leaving your business math class, you heard someone screaming your name across the hall. You turned around and saw his friend beckoning you to come towards him, Hobi and three other guys. Hobi apologized, thanked you for what you had done and offered to take you out to make it up to you.

Agreeing, you ate with Hobi and was formally introduced to his friends, Jungkook (the friend that picked him up), Namjoon, Yoongi and Seokjin. As you ate, you realized you all had a lot in common and continued to spend time with them more often, inviting them to go out and eat, see movies and more. After some time, you then introduced them to Tae and Jimin, creating a close friend group between everyone. 

Typically when Hoseok drank excessively, Taehyung and Namjoon took responsibility to take care of him, making sure he didn’t do anything stupid or something he would regret later. They were fine with being the parent of the night as everyone else had fun, drinking. 

But that night, Taehyung was in Japan for another week, finishing his work study course while Joon was out of town for the weekend, visiting his family, and when they were gone, it had to be you, who took care of Hobi.

“Do you want me to take care of him tonight?” Jimin asked as he put the towel on the glass shower door to dry. He stood behind you and grabbed the curling wand from the counter. “I don’t have to drink tonight.”

“Thanks.” You watched Jimin grab a small section of hair from the top of your head and wrap it around the wand. You never asked him to curl your hair, but he always did and when does it, he touches your hair so softly that you can’t feel it. Stylists always pulled on your hair and sometimes burned you, but Jimin never did. He was always careful with you. “And it’s fine. I’ll be on Hobi duty.”

“Are you sure?” He held the wand in place for fifteen seconds before letting go. He moved on to the next section of your hair. “This is my final offer. Going once, going twice.”

“I got it.” He repeated the curling your hair again. “Besides, he loves getting drunk with you, and you know that.”

Looking at Jimin in the mirror, you admired the sight of him curling your hair as he tilted his head back and laughed at your comment as if it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. 

_________

“How’s your night, Princess?” Jin teased as he came next to you at the bar. You noticed he was probably the least drunk out of everyone. He was wearing a regular black t-shirt and black jeans. “Having fun yet?” 

“You’re so funny.” You mocked him with the same tone of voice, causing him to smile. “It’s going absolutely terrible, but thanks for asking.”

“What’s wrong?” You didn’t need to open your mouth to answer his question. Your finger pointed at Hobi and Jimin; they were both about four feet away from you, buying another round of shots. “Thank God, I don’t have to handle those two tonight.” 

“I haven’t even figured out how I’m going to get them back to my apartment. Maybe I need a tranquilizer?” You watched as both of them finish the shots. “Assuming, they don’t end up in the hospital.”

“At this rate, Hobi is going to ring that bell to buy shots for everyone,” Jin joked.

“Oh, trust me, he’s tried.” You didn’t know if the goal for tonight is to get Hobi back at your place in one piece or if it was to make sure he doesn’t ring that bell, but you pulling him away from the bell was awfully hard. “Twice.”

 “Do you want me to smack some common sense into him?”

“At least not yet. I’m hoping at least one person tries to hit on him, so he can embarrass himself,” you joked. “How’s your night going?”

“Fine, I guess. I don’t really care,” he said. “I just wanted to check up on you and make sure you’re okay.”

“Please don’t tell me that’s your way of flirting,” Hoseok slurred as he stumbled in front of you and Jin with a drink in his hand. “You know you can do better than that.” 

“Better as in what?” You crossed your arms.

“I’m saying that I don’t want you two to sleep together tonight. I mean, I prefer you guys don’t do it at all, but if you’re going to do it, don’t do it tonight,” he ranted slowly. “I really don’t to hear your loud moans through your thin-ass walls. I actually want some sleep tonight, you know?” 

“Excuse me?” Noticing your confused face, Jimin came right next to him, took the drink away from Hobi’s hand and drank it himself. Hobi was too drunk to notice what had just happened. “I think it’s time for you to stop drinking, buddy.”

“You’re so loud,” Hobi exaggerated, imitating a high pitch sound of a moan. People started to stare as you tried to hush him, but he kept moaning.

“This isn’t the time or place,” Jin warned, not wanting Hobi to say the wrong thing. “We don’t need to talk about this right now.”

“That you and Y/N hooked up?” Hobi blurted out. “Why can’t we talk about that?”

“What are you talking about?” Jimin asked as he saw your eyes widen at Hobi’s sudden confession. His head turned to you, expecting an answer. “What is he talking about?”  

“I have no idea,” you lied. “He’s drunk.”

“You and Jin hooked up two months ago, remember?” He started screaming in the club. “I can’t be the only one remembering this. Here, let’s get Yoongi. I bet he remembers. Yoongi!”

“You guys what?!” You raised your eyebrows at Jimin’s sudden attitude change. He wasn’t the type to yell at anyone; he always tried to calm everyone down by awkwardly telling jokes. In fact, you couldn’t remember the last time you heard him yell. “You guys hooked up?!”

“Oh shit.” Hobi was finally coming to realization with what was being said. “I forgot we weren’t supposed to tell Jimin.”

“What?!” Jimin’s tone of voice started getting louder. “You guys lied to me?”

“It just sort of happened.” Which wasn’t really a lie, but not the truth either. You and Jin were both at his place, getting drunk of some store bought wine as everyone else was out on a date that night. You complained to Jin how you missed having sex, and as a joke, Jin suggested he could change that.

“It’s not a big deal,” Jin reassured him as he stood next to you. “It was a one time thing.”

“Just wait until Tae finds out!” 

“Dude.” Hoseok stressed the word out. “Who do you think found them and told us not to tell you?” 

One of the most embarrassing moments of your life was when you and Jin were making out that next morning, about to make that one time thing a two time thing, and as you moaned loudly, Taehyung walked in, asking if Jin was okay. He really thought your moan was his. 

That feeling of embarrassment did not leave until weeks after. It wasn’t like you were naked or hadn’t kissed guys in front of your cousin before, but it wasn’t something you wanted him to see, hear or know. You also didn’t want him or any of the other boys to subtly make any jokes about you moaning (but of course, they did).

Taehyung was mortified as he gathered you and Jin into the living room with everyone, except Jimin; he was still sleeping in his room. You and Jin had to explain what happened and that you guys only saw each other as friends. Taehyung then made you and Jin agree that it would never happen again and made everyone swore not to tell Jimin. No one asked why, but we agreed not to.

“You guys slept together,” Jimin said in a low voice, still louder than the music around him. “I can’t believe you guys did that.”

“What?” You were taken back by his comment. Was he mad that everyone didn’t tell him what happened? Or was he mad at the fact you and Jin had hooked up? He couldn’t have been mad at that, but it sounded like that. 

“I can’t do this.” Jimin grabbed a random drink next to him and splashed all the liquid onto Jin. He threw the empty glass onto the ground, pushed Hoseok out of his way and angrily walked away.

“Jimin!” Jin called out. He was about to go after him, but you grabbed onto his shoulder and shook your head. “Shouldn’t we get him?”

“Leave him, he’s drunk,” you said. “He’s probably getting a taxi to go back to his place, and if not, he’ll call me to get him. He’ll be okay.”

“Yo! What a crazy night, guys!” Hoseok screamed as he rang the bell, having everyone cheer for him and the free drinks. “Free drinks!”

______

“Please don’t be mad at me,’ he said. “I know being drunk is not an excuse, but I really was drunk. I don’t know what came over me.”

Shopping was something Jimin actually enjoyed doing, especially with you. Although you would complain and try to rush him out of the dressing room all the time, he liked all the jokes you made and all the honest feedback you gave him. Your opinion really influenced him. More than once, your opinion had saved him from public embarrassment from his friends and everyone else he was trying to impress. Everyone has some piece of clothing they regret buying, except Jimin.

“I thought you said you were going to make it up to me.” After getting off work, you and Jimin were at the mall, walking around, arms linked with each other. He apologized and told you that he wanted to make it up to you. “Typically when that happens, I pick and enjoy what we do. And last time I checked, you like shopping and I don’t.” 

“I’m here to pay for whatever you want, and I promise I won’t get a single thing for myself unless I have special permission from you. Consider this as an extra birthday present from me.” Jimin went all out for your birthday, but you couldn’t blame him when you did the same. When his birthday came around, you bought him seven expensive presents for each day of the week he was born, and he would do the same for you; it had became a natural thing to do for each other.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said. “I just want you to apologize to Jin and Hobi though.” 

“But first, I need to say sorry to you for ruining your night, and this is my way of saying sorry.” He shrugged. “Besides, you really need new clothes for your birthday.”

“My clothes are perfectly fine!” You argued, playfully hitting his arm. 

“Where to?” He asked. 

“I really don’t need any new clothes,” You repeated. 

“Let’s just have fun and try things on then,” he suggested. 

He suddenly stopped walking causing you unlink your arm with his. You gave him a confused look, not understanding why he stopped. He rolled his eyes and nod his head towards the store you two were in front of.

“Jimin, no! Not today. We aren’t doing this,” you whined. 

“Come on! It’ll be fun! You love watching Say Yes to the Dress.”

“Are you crazy? I am not trying on wedding dresses for fun!” As he desperately tries to pull you in, you tried to pull Jimin in the other direction, hoping not to rip the sleeve of your shirt. “Anyone seeing this?! He’s trying to hold me hostage against my own will!” 

“I’m not!” Jimin eventually got you on your feet and pushed you into the store. You two sat on the first unoccupied chairs and waited for someone to come. 

“Hi. Are we looking at wedding dresses today?” The sales associate asked. She was wearing in a black business suit with black heels. 

“Yes, we are looking for dresses today!” He declared loudly for everyone to hear. “She wants something very simple, but not too basic. No mermaid dresses, beaded tops, corsets or anything with any ridiculous design.”

“Oh god,” you mumbled under your breath, thinking you could not take another minute of this. 

"I think I can help you with that.” She laughed and shook her hand out. “My name is Kim.”

“I’m Jimin, and this is Y/N.” 

“I’ll have you follow me into a dressing room, and Jimin, if you find any dresses Y/N might like, try to find me.” 

After a couple minutes of waiting in the dressing room, you heard a knock on the door. The door slightly opened, and Kim walked in with one sleeved wedding dress, one ball gown weeding dress and one a-line wedding dress in her hands. “I have three dresses for you.” 

“Wow,” you blurted out as she hung each of them. You weren’t really a fan of dresses, but something about wedding dresses made you want to try them on. “These are all so pretty.” 

“I’m glad you like them.” She smiled. “Do you know which one you want to try on first?” 

The sweetheart lace A-line wedding dress caught your eye first. It was exactly how Jimin described your taste: simple, but not too basic. The dress wasn’t pure white, but it was ivory blush color. You weren’t a fan of floral, but you loved the lace floral design on the dress. You reached out to touch the material and admired the dress. “I think this one.” 

As you started removing your jeans and sweater, Kim turned around to give you some privacy. She was getting the dress out of the bag and off the hook, ready to help you when you were ready to try on the dress. You laughed, but you liked her presence. “How long have you and Jimin been together?” 

“I’m sorry, what?” You froze. “Did you say me and Jimin?”

She turned around and unzipped the back zipper for you. She held the dress as you got into it. “You two are so adorable.”

“We’re just friends,” you said quickly as she pulled the dress up. “We’re not dating.” 

“Oh!” She furrowed her eyebrows together, trying to understand the situation. “I’m sorry, but I thought you two were. Usually, couples shop for wedding dresses together.”

“I’m not getting married either. I’m just making him happy by trying on wedding dresses.” She zipped up the zipper as you adjusted your hair, making sure it wasn’t in the way. 

“You guys would look together.” The whole atmosphere became awkward, and you wanted to slap Jimin for making you go through this alone. He was better at telling people you two weren’t dating, while you always made everything more awkward. “Have you two dated?” 

“No.” You let out an awkward laugh. “I’m not really his type anyways.”

You remember when you used to get overwhelmed when people asked about your relationship with Jimin. You felt as if you were only known as Jimin’s girl rather than an actual human being. 

“Just say I don’t like you like that, and just change the subject to show them how amazing you are,” he said.

 “He doesn’t like me like that,” you repeated what Jimin told everyone. 

“But do you?” She asked. “Do you like him like that?”

When people asked you that question, you immediately always said that the thought of you and Jimin dating was never a possibility. You would always tell them no and move on from the conversation, but when Kim asked you right there, in that room of wedding dresses, you had to think about your feelings. 

Was there something actually there that felt something more for your best friend? Did you like spending time with Jimin? Yes, but all best friends enjoy their time with their best friend. Do you feel the happiest with Jimin? Of course, but all best friends feel happy with their best friend. Do you think about Jimin constantly? Yes, but even friends think about their friends.

“Are you married?” You asked her as she was in front of you, adjusting the dress. 

“Yes.” She smiled. “Almost 20 years.” 

“How did you know he was the one you wanted?” 

“He was my best friend,” she answered. “But I noticed that I always thought of him for the smallest of things, and I didn’t want anyone else in front of me at the altar. I wanted to spend my time with him the most.”

“That’s beautiful.” 

“Is that how you feel about Jimin?”

You had a bunch of relationships, but it never got to the point where you felt like you were seriously in love, and the idea of marriage with any of your boyfriends never came to your mind. You knew you wanted to fall in love and wanted to get married, but when you thought about it, Jimin came into your mind. You pictured him in a tuxedo, smiling at you as if he was happy for you getting married. But the idea of him being the groom rather the best man or groomsmen didn’t sickened you; it actually made your heart flutter in excitement. Is that what love feels like? Had you always been feeling love for him?

“Oh my god.” A tear rolled down onto your cheek. Your feelings were a mess, and you couldn’t believe what was happening. Did that mean you liked Jimin? Did that mean you actually loved him? Not as a friend, but as a partner. “I-”

Before you could answer her question, there was a loud knock on the door. “Hey Kim. I have a dress for Y/N. She’s going to love it.” 

She opened the door slightly to grab the dress, but she didn’t open it wide enough for him to see you. Pushing the door right away, she yelled out, “Thanks.” 

Wiping your face, you laughed at the sight of the dress and rolled your eyes at Jimin’s humor. It was a black v-neck ball gown; the top was practically see through while he bottom of the dress looked like one giant rose. You absolutely hated the dress, and you knew he did too.

“This is a joke, right?” Kim asked, petrified with what she was holding in her hand. “Does he think this is ‘simple, but not too basic?’”

“He just wanted me to laugh.” You smiled. “He knew I would probably feel a little anxious, so he brought that to cheer me up.”

“And he did.” She gave you a small smile. You knew that she really love you and Jimin together. “I didn’t mean to overwhelm you with your feelings, by the way. That was rude of me to do that. I shouldn’t have asked and should have respected you with what you said.” 

“It’s fine.” A small part of you wanted to thank her, but you couldn’t tell if this was something worth thanking about. What if the realization of your feelings later breaks you? Was it worth knowing?

“It’s not,” Kim countered. “I’m sorry.” 

“I just have a lot to think about.” You shrugged, trying to bury all your feelings. “It doesn’t look like I cried, right?” 

“I don’t think he’ll know,” she said, scanning your face to see.

“You’ll be surprised.”

“You look breathtaking,” she said as she made you look at the mirror. “This dress was made for you.” 

________

“Close your eyes!” He groaned as he put his hands to cover his eyes. You were on the podium, facing Jimin with your back facing the mirrors. “You’re not peaking, right?” 

“Nope,” he promised. “Can I look now?” 

“Promise you won’t make fun of me.” 

“Why would I make fun of you?”

“Just promise me!” You tried not to laugh.

“I promise.” 

“Okay. Open your eyes.” 

He opened his eyes and you noticed his jaw slightly dropped. He stared at you, mesmerizing every detail of the dress. He was sure that his loud heartbeat could be heard. “Wow.”

You wondered if he liked the dress or if he liked you being in the dress. “I love this dress a lot.” 

“I love it too,” he agreed. He stood up on the podium with you and looked closely at your face. Biting your lip, you tried to look away, but you knew that he could tell. “Were you crying?” 

“Veil or no veil?” Kim asked with a veil in her hand. She really knew how to save you like an angel.

“Veil.”

“No veil.” 

Even though you said no, Kim handed the veil to Jimin. He then put the veil on top of your head, adjusting your hair. You felt him run his fingers in your hair, slowly. Then, just like Kim, he turned your body towards the mirror. His eyes met yours in the mirror. “You are so stunning.” 

You turned to Jimin. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” he said. “I mean it.”

Putting his arms around you, he pulled you closer to him. Automatically, you put your arms around his neck and felt his hair at the nape of his neck. His head leaned towards you as he stared at your lips. 

You two had always been close. It was a normal thing, but this was the first time you were this close. It felt like he was looking at you for permission to press his lips against yours. 

A sound coming from him stopped him. He let go out you as he grabbed the phone out of his back pocket and looked at who was calling him. “It’s Jessica.” 

Your eyes widened.

Jessica.

How could you forget? Jessica. Jimin’s girlfriend. Jimin’s girl. The person that is not you.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked as he slid to answer the call and put the phone towards his ear. You hear loud noises come from the other end, and then all of the sudden, you watched Jimin ran out of the store with no explanation. 

As if nothing between you had happened. 

As if it didn’t mean anything to him. 

And you were left alone, in a wedding dress, confused with your feelings of your best friend.

[princesskokichi]

kokichi as part of the kuzuryu family

so i learned that my kaede post is actually hidden in my account because i never put it in my masterlist

gosh i am so horrible with my account upkeep 

i also learned i kind of absolutely adore this au ??? like more than i adore the kaede post - mod kokichi

- the moment kokichi found out that his actual parents were the leaders of the biggest mafia organization in japan

- the first thing he did was,, well, get excited

- because maybe it / wasn't / a lie that he's the ultimate supreme leader of an evil secret organization with over ten thousand members

- and then the second he thinks about it, he gets scared

- i mean, there / was / a reason that he was sent away to be adopted

- what if they didn't want ? what if it was more dangerous than he thought it was ?

- the anxiety in him started to freak out, but he kept a calm and chilled presence around anyone

- no one was allowed to know that he was scared out of his mind of getting shot

- he, in reality, hated violence

- pranks and jokes are meant to share laughs and a few scoldings, they're not intended to hurt anyone

- the day he came to visit his biological family, he felt hella out of place

- everyone looked at him as if he were a piece of trash

- his own biological mother, who looked much more like him that his father actually did, didn't rejoice in having her son back

- the second he came in, he was rushed into more " fitting " clothes than his tattered clothes from the orphanage

- and he was swept away into the work, without a briefing of his actual duties

- the person he met that guided him through everything was peko, who seemed a little too used to showing newcomers their job

- he felt a little bad for her, because it was obvious she'd never genuinely smiled for longer than a few minutes

- and then he met his two brothers, mondo and fuyuhiko

- mondo was the leader of the bikers, and his personality showed that

- and fuyuhiko was the heir to the mafia throne

- natsumi and fuyuhiko looked like twins to kokichi, but in fact, they weren't

- the ages went mondo, peko, fuyuhiko, natsumi, and then kokichi, the youngest

- fuyuhiko, upon meeting his brother, treated him a little kinder than the rest

- he cursed, yes, and warned kokichi not to get too buddy-buddy with anyone here

- but he was nice enough to help kokichi understand what he was to do

- and that was,,, nothing

- kokichi wasn't there to participate in the mafia, but rather to appease their mother, who'd missed her son greatly

- even though,, it did not look like she missed him very much

- perhaps it was because he didn't satisfy her after all ?

- mondo was a little colder, warning that if he made one wrong move, he would be dead in an instant

- he wasn't very fond of outsiders just suddenly showing up and proclaiming blood

- even though kokichi did look like his mother

- he wasn't born into this life, therefore he could have no idea what it was like to live in it

- kokichi could have been softhearted and ratted them all out to the police, for all mondo knew

- and he didn't want to take that chance

- natsumi was arrogant, laughing that kokichi was lower than even the underlings of the mafia to the family

- he had no official title, nor did he have the small tattoo on his body that bonded him to the family

- she thought that, until he took off his bandana from his neck to reveal the marking that was given to him at birth, small on the side of his neck

- she shut up after that, and treated him more as a colleague from school than an actual family member

- perhaps that was because she didn't want him to be involved with all of the mafia's mess, after all

- peko disliked him originally

- she wasn't too big of a fan of his antics

- he was loud, and wasn't arrogant but acted as if he knew everything that was going on when there was no possible way that he did

- she didn't understand him, so she didn't like him

- it would come to pass that he was acting in such a way because he felt so wrong about the situation

- peko would immediately sympathize with his position, because in truth, they were almost int he same place

- no official title, just sort of a part of the family without meaning to be

- peko was the tool, kokichi was, in essence, the pet of the clan

- they were both disposable, and she understood that her way of dealing with things wasn't his way

- they wouldn't bond per say, but they would mutually understand each other as time passed

- i don't actually think that kokichi could form very strong bonds with his family members, and instead opted to find a few friends

- fuyuhiko, mondo, and natsumi would grow to be compliant with his addition to the family, and treated him as such

- they were rather protective of their brother, just in their own way

- it's not that they didn't care, they just didn't come to be very good " friends " with him because he still had a choice in his life to leave the mafia one day

- at least, that's what they thought

- but the blood flows through him

- and the tattoo rests on his neck, forever etched into his skin

- he would never be able to escape, no matter how hard he tried as he got older

- even when kokichi thinks he ran, he cannot hide away from them

- the family will always control his life

- there's really no escape until he dies

[cantdwellonanyofit]

I Don't Think Enough Before I Say Too Much - Ch 4.

Gene and Snafu eventually arrive at Snafu's house.

I don't know if it's a good or a bad thing that I have to keep editing the tags on AO3 to provide warnings about the smut I can't stop writing.

Dedicated to: Stolzerpunge who is quite obviously one of my favourite people on this planet. Also, she's the one who mentioned rubbing the bridge of Gene's nose and I give full credit to her for that beautiful sentiment.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28770078/chapters/70963017

Gene woke abruptly, disoriented. He sat up and tried to force his eyes to adjust to the darkness but closed them again when it wasn’t working. There was a weight beside him. A heat, like a human body. He was going to get killed if he couldn’t see. He snapped his eyes open, willed himself to see. His gaze immediately landed on Shelton, sleeping with his mouth slightly ajar. Gene breathed out slowly and tried to calm down. He just kept staring at Shelton. Coaxing himself into the present. He was in New Orleans, with Snafu. With his boyfriend. Gene continued to stare, breathing deeply, until a smile spread on his face. He’d lost his virginity last night. To this man. He’d never felt so sure about anything in his life.

Gene gradually shifted one leg out from under the covers and then the other. He winced; he was sore from being stretched open last night. He tried his best not to wake Snafu as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and then stood up. The bed creaked, and Gene turned to ensure Snafu was still asleep. He hadn’t even stirred. Gene walked to the bathroom and relieved himself, then quietly got dressed. Afterwards, he found the pen and paper he’d purchased the day prior. It felt like he’d went shopping a week ago. Time had a way of warping when he was around Snafu. Gene moved to the desk that was situated in a corner of the room and lit the lamp. He glanced over at Snafu, but again, the other man didn’t stir. Gene grabbed a sheet of paper and began to write.

“Dear Greaser,”

Gene smiled. His nickname for Sid.

“I haven’t been gone more than a week or two by the time this letter reaches you, but I wanted to let you know I arrived safely. The journey was long, but nothing compared to the trip through Japan. Louisiana is just like Alabama in a lot of ways. It’s hot. The same sultry fog that hangs in the air here must stretch all the way to Alabama. But different too. There’s lots of lights, sounds, and people. And French! It’s quite a sight. Maybe someday you’ll visit and see what I mean. I hope you’re doing well. I wanted to apologize for barging in on you and Mary like that. And to thank you for taking me to the station. And for the money. I’m tracking what I owe you, and I won’t take no for an answer. But most of all, I wanted to thank you for making sure I got on that train. I found who I was looking for. Things are difficult. Different. But they’re also exciting. So much has happened already. I wish I could share it with you. But perhaps a letter is not the best place for it. I hope to sit down with you someday and tell you everything. I hope-“

Gene hesitated. He had to be careful about what he put in writing. He wasn’t sure he should, or even could, tell Sid the truth about what he was. About what he was doing. Shame washed over him like a warm breeze. He wondered if he should just throw the letter away. Maybe he could never return home now. He wouldn’t be able to bare the rejection from Sid. But he didn’t want to run away. He wasn’t a coward. He wanted to bring Merriell home with him one day. Introduce him to his parents. To Sid. To Ed. Maybe none of them would understand at first, but they loved Gene. They’d want what was best for him. If God could bring him and Snafu together, then maybe there was something to it. Maybe there was a piece of God in all this.

‘So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them,’ the bible said time-and-time again.

God had created Gene. Why would he create him if he couldn’t accept him? Gene memorized the scriptures that brought him comfort during his frenzied search for God’s acceptance.

‘So they are no longer two, but one. Therefore what God has joined together, let man not separate,’ Matthew 19:5, ‘Jonathan became one in spirit with David, and he loved him as himself,’ Samuel 18:1, ‘David says of Jonathan: “Your love for me was wonderful, more wonderful than that of women,’ Samuel 1:26.

Gene tenderly tucked these words away. Like precious letters written by someone he had loved and lost. He held them deep in his heart. Buried somewhere. Unable to look at them. But he was ready to take the letters out. Ready to tattoo the words on his skin. If God could accept him, so could his family.

He pressed his pen back to the paper.

“I hope someday when I tell you everything, that you’ll understand. All the best, Gene.” He finished. He moved the paper aside and grabbed another.

‘Dear mom and dad,

I’m sorry I left so abruptly. I hope Sid was able to reach you before you realized I was gone. I don’t ever mean to worry you. I don’t ever mean to cause so many problems. I just need time. I’m in Louisiana now, and I’m feeling hopeful. I think you both know being home was difficult for me. I hope when I return, we can start over. That I can explain everything to you. That you’ll understand,” he found himself writing for the second time. He prayed they’d understand.

If they could feel what Gene felt for Snafu they’d never question his intentions. His state of mind. It was purer than his love for God. Before the war he’d never dream of saying something like that. But he’d changed. God’s role in his life had changed. He had to believe his family could drastically change too. He knew his mother didn’t understand homosexuality. Could tell by the way she talked about men and women. How she always mentioned weddings and grandchildren. How she hoped both Ed and Gene would have lots. Have great wives. As if neither of them could ever want something different. ‘Learn to clean up after yourself now, or your future wife will resent you,’ his mother would say.

Gene just ignored her. His dad would defend them both. “Mary Frank, leave the boys alone. Don’t rush them to grow up, or you’ll be sorry you did.” His dad was always protecting him. He wondered if his dad could sense Gene was different. Wrong inside. His mom would question why Gene wasn’t out chasing girls like Ed was. And Gene would tell her he wanted to wait for the right one. But he wondered if his father caught the lies as they left his lips. If he knew, but never dared to ask.

“I don’t know when I’ll be home,” Gene continued writing. “But I’ll give notice before I do. I love you both. Love, Gene.”

“Whatchya doin’?” Snafu mumbled; voice wrecked with sleep. Gene jumped and banged his knees on the table.

“Jesus Christ, Merriell,” Gene rubbed his knee. Snafu was laughing. “I was writing.”

“You don’t say?” He replied sardonically. He stretched, stood up, and walked over to Gene, still naked as the day he was born. Then bent and kissed him. Lingering, pressing down on his mouth passionately. Gene melted into it. Just as suddenly as it had begun, Snafu broke it and straightened. “You writin’ to all your friends about how good last night was? Make sure you tell ‘em how big I am.”

Gene laughed, but his smile faded. Drifted into a frown. He wanted so badly to bring Merriell home to Mobile. He wanted Merriell to have Gene’s mother and father as his own parents. He wanted his mom and dad to be happy for him. He wanted them to shake Merriell’s hand, hug him, and welcome him as their son. He wanted Sid to accept him. For them to all go fishing together.  He wanted so much.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?” Snafu asked, cautiously bringing his index finger to rub down the bridge of Gene’s nose.

Gene stared blankly ahead as he pondered what question he most needed to ask. “Would you ever come home with me to Mobile?”

Now it was Snafu’s turn to stare blankly. Thinking. He stopped rubbing the length of Gene’s nose. “I’d do it -- for you, but--“ Snafu looked up at the ceiling, contemplating his next words, “It’s dangerous. People don’t take too kindly to what we’re doin’. The world just ain’t like that.” Snafu was watching for Gene’s reaction.

Gene gradually nodded. He was a fool. He was the same fool he’d been before the war. It lit his blood on fire. How could he be so naïve. To think he could just bring Snafu home and parade him around. That everyone would throw a party in Gene’s honor. For finally finding love. For finding peace. He was a damn idiot for thinking everyone would understand. That God was on his side. It wasn’t fair. Why did it matter if he loved a man or a woman? It was love. That should be all that mattered to anyone. Gene sorted both pages he’d written on. Aligned them neatly, then picked them up and promptly tore them in half.

“Eugene,” Snafu tried to still his hands. “What’re you doin’?”

Gene shook off Snafu’s attempt to stop him. He continued to tear the pages until they were just scraps. He dropped the pieces from the air and let them float down, scattered across the table. Just like how he felt inside. He was so stupid. He realized he was crying when one of his tears fell from the tip of his nose and dampened the pile. He was pathetic.

“Eugene….” Snafu tried again. “I didn’t mean to ups-“

“You’re right,” Gene said abruptly. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. They wouldn’t understand. They couldn’t even understand who I was when I arrived home. Why would this be any different?” Gene wiped his face angrily. He was such a child.

“I love you,” Snafu whispered. Gene looked at him. The silence stretched. “I can’t stop saying the wrong thing,” Snafu finally added after the silence became uncomfortable.

“That’s not the wrong thing.” Gene responded. “You mean it?” He felt a bit desperate. The only thing he understood anymore was his love for Snafu. Nothing else in this whole fucked up world made any sense to him.

“More than anything.” Snafu tilted Gene’s face and leaned down to kiss him. Affectionately. Carefully. Like he was made of glass. He was such a fragile thing. He couldn’t stop fuckin’ crying.

“I love you too,” Gene choked on a sob. He tried to smother his tears out by grinding the palm of his hands into his eyes.

“Fuck, Gene, you’re killin’ me. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. You and me, we’re gonna be just fine. We don’t even have to stay here. I don’t even fuckin’ like it here. We could pick another state. Go to California. Another country. The fucking wilderness. In some backwards ass country that speaks a language neither of us understands. I don’t know or give a shit. Just please, please stop bein’ so sad. I can’t stand it,”

Gene looked up at Snafu. Gene could see the desperation in his eyes. They were so expressive, even when he didn’t want them to be. “It’s not fuckin’ fair,” Gene said.

“Nothin’s fair, buttercup. That’s life.” Snafu responded. For some reason that angered Gene. He knew life wasn’t fair. He didn’t need to be babied. He’d been through the same war Snafu had. Gene had hardened. One night of bliss wasn’t enough to bring back the boy he’d been. That part of him was dead. He’d made sure of it. His good side only ever got him hurt. It continued to get him hurt.

“I’m not a child,” Gene stood up, bumping Snafu out of the way.

Snafu grabbed his bicep. “I wasn’t saying you were. Don’t be unreasonable.”

Now Gene was pissed. “Fuck you, Merriell.” He pulled his arm out of Snafu’s grasp and headed for the bathroom.

“Gene, for fuck’s sake I’m tryin’a help you.” Snafu followed him.

“Yeah, a lot of good that ever fuckin’ did.” Snafu stopped walking. Gene turned, regretting what he said immediately. Snafu had saved his life. Countless times. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, that was shitty. I didn’t mean it.”

Snafu didn’t move. He looked angry. Gene went to grab for him, but Snafu turned around and walked away.

“Merriell…Snafu, stop. Stop!” Gene followed him back to the bed where Snafu threw himself down on his back. Snafu grabbed his cigarettes, put one between his lips, and lit it. Gene grabbed it out of his mouth.

“Can I just have one second without you fuckin’ ruinin’ it with your boo-hoo’in bullshit?” Snafu grabbed his cigarette back. Dragged on it and blew the smoke out angrily. As if he couldn’t even enjoy it. It wafted in Gene’s direction.

That was fair. Gene tried to breathe deeply to calm himself. Inhaling smoke as he did so. Gene had sstuck the knife in first, he reminded himself. “Okay,” Gene responded. “I’ll take me and my,” Gene used two fingers in a show of quotation, “boo-hoo-in bullshit” Gene dropped his hands, “And give you some space.”

Snafu stared numbly. Still angry. Gene could see it radiating off him.

“S’fine by me.” Snafu responded curtly.

Gene had never argued with someone while they were naked before. He’d have to remember to write that down as another first. He’d have laughed if he wasn’t afraid it would set Snafu off like a mortar. Snafu’s words had bitten him, but Gene imagined the wound he’d inflicted on Snafu was larger. During the war, Snafu put every ounce of his own sanity into trying to maintain Gene’s. Gene had just crushed it with his boot like a discarded cigarette. Gene bathed, brushed his teeth, shaved, lingered. Analyzed and re-analyzed the entire conversation he’d had with Snafu. Gene wondered the fuck was wrong with him. Snafu was just trying to help. He’d tried to console him. Snafu had mentioned he was always fucking up his own life. Maybe he and Snafu weren’t so different after all. As Gene sat on the bathroom floor, wrapped in a towel, torturing himself about every word and action, there was a knock at the door.

“You dead in there?” Snafu called.

“Would you like me to be?” Gene called back. Snafu opened the door and stared. As he was prone to doing.

“I didn’t kill my own self every day tryin’a save your sorry ass so you could come home and die in a bathroom.” Snafu retorted.

“I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean a lick of it.” Gene stood up and took a step towards Snafu. In return, Snafu took a step towards him. Meeting in the middle.

“Surprisingly enough, I’ve been known to say some shitty things when I’m mad too.” Snafu kissed Gene. It was quick, but it was both a formal apology and an acceptance of Gene’s apology. Snafu moved to the bath and cranked the water. “We gotta be out of here in 20 minutes. Bus leaves at 1300. Figured we’d get food and head there.”

Gene had been so focused on the future he’d forgotten about going to Snafu’s house. While Snafu bathed and dressed back into the same clothes from the day prior, Gene gathered all his belongings. He had everything by the door in record time. It was just another of many skills he’d learned in the marine corps. When someone said, ‘pack your shit we’re moving,’ you packed your shit and moved. He was smoking one of Snafu’s cigarettes when Shelton emerged from the bathroom. He strutted right over to Gene, stole the cigarette out of his hand, and said, “Thanks, babe, you shouldn’t have.” Snafu went to the door and unlatched it, then grabbed several of Gene’s bags.

“You’re such a shit, you know that?” Gene joined in grabbing the bags, then opened the door for Snafu.

“You love it,” Snafu countered.

As they emerged from the room, they locked eyes with the couple who’d stayed in the room directly to the right of theirs. It was just Gene’s luck they had decided to check out at the same time. The woman stopped and stared at them, mouth agape. Gene felt panic rise in his stomach. How much had they heard last night? The couple just continued staring. Then, in true Snafu fashion, he said, “What the fuck’re you lookin’ at? Buncha weirdos.” And walked down the hallway with his cigarette between his lips.

Gene laughed, tried to cover it up, mouthed an ‘I’m sorry’ at them, and then hastily followed Snafu. When Gene caught up to Snafu, he whispered, “They know, don’t they?” Snafu shrugged.

“Who gives a shit?” He repositioned a bag on his arm.

Gene watched him. If anyone else looked at Snafu they’d think he sincerely didn’t give a shit, but Gene wasn’t anyone else. He’d spent so much time watching Snafu as he tried to protect himself from the horrors of war. His jaw clenched; his eyes concerned. He rubbed at the collar of his shirt. Snafu was as worried as Gene was, he was just better at concealing it. If they checked out before the other couple caught up, Gene could at least ensure they wouldn’t know his full name. He picked up the pace, determined to avoid any future backlash. Snafu matched him. Gene managed to check out without incident. The couple had just approached when Gene and Snafu were heading out the door.

Once they were out in the daylight, Snafu darted right towards the bus station. They found a diner on the way, and stopped in. They dropped the bags, both wearing matching red rings around their arms from the weight. They both ordered food as soon as their waiter was available. Gene was starting to feel excited about heading to Snafu’s house. He never dreamed he’d find Snafu, let alone live with him. Live…with his boyfriend. Just ‘his boyfriend’ was enough to make him exhilarated. He remembered what he’d said to Snafu earlier.  

“I’m sorry, about earlier. I got defensive, and it wasn’t fair.” Gene wished he could reach out and grab Snafu’s hand.

Snafu looked up suddenly, surprised. He’d been staring down at the table in thought. “You don’t gotta torture yourself about it. We already apologized.”

“I know, but I don’t want you to think I’m gonna to make a habit out of it.” Gene didn’t want to give him a reason to walk away. Snafu had already successfully moved on once.

“I didn’t think you would, Gene. It’s not a big deal.” Snafu continued to look confused.

Gene sighed. He and Snafu were going to have to work on their communication. Gene tended to let things linger. To itch at his skin until he couldn’t help digging at them. He liked to visit and revisit conversations, thoughts, and actions. Snafu only appeared to think on things for the length the conflict lasted. He wasn’t sure who was right in this situation, but assumed it was probably neither of them.

Their food came, and it quieted them both again. They resumed watching each other. Before he met Snafu, Gene would’ve felt self-conscious having someone watch him while he ate, but he was so used to Shelton watching him he hardly cared.

“What do you do for fun around here? Or did you, I guess.”

“Gambling,” Snafu answered, “Won’t do it anymore though.” Gene wanted to tread carefully. He didn’t want another discussion like the one they’d endured the last time they ate a meal together.

“You get sick of it?” Gene tried.

“The opposite, I’d gamble the pants right off you if I could.” Snafu looked around at the other customers. Probably trying to determine whether anyone was listening to them.

“Always trying to get my pants off,” Gene mumbled under his breath.

Snafu grinned. “Whata’bout you? What’d a sweet, handsome, southern boy like you do back home?”

It donned on Gene he and Snafu had never really talked about their interests. Small talk was almost inconceivable during the war. For a moment, he worried whether he and Snafu would realize they weren’t compatible. He tried to tuck it away, focus on the conversation. “Reading, writing,” Gene felt a sadness tugging at his heart, “I used to hunt with my dad, but…..I’d take Deacon, my dog, out for walks…” He faded. There was so much he took for granted. And now it was gone.

Snafu tried to reel him back in, “Writing what? Like journaling?”

Gene picked at his food. Snafu grabbed a piece of Gene’s toast, took a bite out of it, then threw it down on his plate. Gene glared, grabbed it, and shoved the whole piece in his mouth. “S’mine,” He said around his mouth full of toast.

“Your parents never taught you how to share? Boy, I’m gonna write them a letter. Ask them why they never taught their son any manners.” Snafu gently kicked at Gene’s foot under the table.

Gene threw a balled-up napkin at him. The women at the table next to them glared.

Gene tried to maintain Snafu’s attention before he told the women to ‘mind your own fuckin’ business.’ “Sometimes I’d journal. Sometimes I’d just write stories.” Gene could feel himself blushing. He didn’t know why he felt embarrassed.

“Oh yeah?” Snafu seemed pleasantly surprised, “Can I read it?”

“Well, I mean, I didn’t exactly bring it with me as a gift.” Gene finished his last few bites of food. They’d need to leave promptly if they hoped to catch the bus.

“I know that, ya pain in the ass. I meant when I go home with you.” Snafu said.

Gene looked at him. They’d already decided that was a terrible idea. Snafu grabbed the check while Gene was still mentally exploring what Snafu had insinuated. Snafu paid, and then grabbed his share of Gene’s bags. Gene was still staring.

“Come on, we can philosophize later. Let’s go.” Snafu delicately kicked at Gene’s chair until he stood up and grabbed his bags.

“We’re gonna talk more about this later,” Gene said.

“You got it, dreamboat. Let’s go, please.” Snafu was already walking away. Gene laughed softly and followed him.

They boarded the bus, sat down, and waited for the bus conductor to pass. Gene hurriedly paid for the tickets before Snafu could. Once the bus conductor left them with their stubs, Snafu shoved at Gene. “I was gonna get that.”

“You’ve paid for everything so far! I’m not a freeloader.” Gene reasoned.

“You not interested in a sugar daddy then?” Snafu said, his smile wide and mischievous. Gene quickly glanced around to make sure no one heard, then laughed and shoved Snafu back.

“I already have a daddy I don’t need another one.” He whispered. He couldn’t hide his grin.

“We’ll see ‘bout that. A couple more nights like last night you might be changin’ your mind.” Snafu’s grin managed to widen.

“Shhhh, shut up,” Gene was laughing though, “You’re a scoundrel.”

Snafu, still grinning, reached underneath the bags they’d set between them and grabbed Gene’s hand. He squeezed. Gene smiled fondly and squeezed back. Gene wanted so badly to tell Merriell that he loved him, but they’d taken enough risks for one day. The rest of the trip passed in silence. It wasn’t long before they’d reached their stop. Snafu untangled their hands and grabbed his share of the bags. Gene followed suit. They stepped off the bus and out into Jackson. It was a quaint little town. A couple churches stood within view. Gene wondered if Merriell had ever attended them with his family. Gene tried to imagine Shelton growing up in this town.

“We gotta catch another bus, I live out in the sticks.” Snafu said.

“Ugh,” Gene looked heavenward, “Of course you do. One of us is getting a license as soon as possible.”

“I’m workin’ on it. I’m tryi’na save up money for it first.” Snafu drawled.

Another bus ride completed, and they were very much ‘in the sticks.’ They stepped off the bus and onto a long dirt driveway. They were surrounded by highway and trees. When Gene imagined Snafu growing up, he always imagined him in the city. Gene wasn’t sure why. It surprised him to know Snafu had grown up so isolated from the rest of the world. It strengthened Gene’s remorse for Shelton’s parents being gone. Maybe Snafu really didn’t have anyone else now. He followed Snafu up the driveway until a two-story brick house came into view. There was an old beat up barn off to the left. The front porch looked a bit weathered as well. When Gene started ascending the stairs they creaked awfully. He winced.

“The good news is no one’s gonna sneak up on us here.” Snafu joked. Gene laughed, and waited as Snafu unlocked the door and let Gene in. Gene stepped inside and was surprised by the bare walls. Anyone could’ve lived in this house. There was nothing tying Snafu to it. Gene thought of his own home, with family pictures everywhere you glanced. Or at least decorations and paintings strewn about. Even Gene’s bedroom had more pictures than the several rooms Gene could glance from where he was standing. His house in Mobile was lived in. Lively. Loving. This house was home to no one. Gene’s sadness for Snafu grew.

Snafu rubbed at his collar, “You wishin’ we was back at the hotel instead?” He asked. He tried to sound playful.

Gene turned to look at Snafu. His sadness spread until he couldn’t stand it anymore. Gene dropped his bags and threw his arms around Snafu, causing Snafu’s bags to drop as well. Gene hugged him, hard. Snafu must’ve been surprised because it took him several moments to reciprocate. Gene kissed him, hard. Tangling his fingers in Snafu’s curls. Gene tried to pour every ounce of love that he held for Merriell into this kiss. Tried to fill him up with it. Snafu moaned. Gene pulled Snafu along with him until he could sit him down in one of the kitchen chairs. Gene hit his knees and started unbuttoning Snafu’s pants.

“Jesus christ, Eugene.” Snafu chuckled. “I was gonna show you around first before we christened the place.”

Gene smiled and pulled Snafu’s pants and shorts down as Snafu lifted his hips. Gene wasted no time taking Snafu in his mouth. Swirling his tongue over the head like he did the night before. Snafu groaned loudly, no reason for them to be chaste anymore. Gene tried not to overthink this. It was a blowjob for heaven’s sake, how could you mess that up? He flattened his cheeks and held his breath, pushing Snafu all the way to the back of his throat and holding him there. 1-2-3….Gene pulled off and let out the breath he’d been holding. Snafu fisted his hands in Gene’s hair and gently pushed Gene’s head back down. Gene sucked in air through his nose again and obliged. After Merriell held him in place for several seconds, he released his hold on Gene so he could come up for air. Gene blew the air back out of his nose. They repeated their dance together. Shelton steering Gene, Gene giving him whatever he asked for. Gene unbuttoned his pants, dragged them down with one hand, then took his own cock in his fist. Snafu’s eyes were instantly on Gene’s hand. Snafu released his hold on him and knocked Gene’s hand away. He leaned forward, spit into his palm, and wrapped it around Gene’s cock. Meanwhile, Gene maintained the pace Snafu had set for him before he’d released his hold on Gene’s hair.

“Gonna come, cher….You don’t gotta—” Gene moaned and released Snafu’s cock from his mouth until only the head remained between his lips. Gene wrapped his fist around the base. He resumed swirling his tongue. Snafu’s hand stilled on Gene’s cock as he got lost in the feeling of his own orgasm building. He was moaning loudly. Gene matched Snafu’s moans, spurring him on. Eventually, Gene felt heat hit his tongue and he swallowed. Took everything Snafu had to give him. Continued swirling his tongue until Snafu twitched from being overstimulated. Gene released him and sat back on his feet with his knees bent. Snafu sat there breathing deeply, then wiped his face and propelled himself out of the chair and onto the floor with Gene. It was no easy task when Snafu’s pants were still around his thighs. Gene chuckled and laid on his back.

“Wanna try something,” Snafu mumbled and tugged Gene’s own pants and shorts down his thighs. Then Snafu shoved at Gene until he rolled over. Gene stared at the front door, waiting for whatever Snafu had planned. Snafu took his own shirt off and laid it under Gene’s hips. Then Gene felt the first kiss on his left ass cheek. Gene stilled. Snafu continued pressing sloppy kisses to him. “You gotta learn to relax, Eugene. I’m not gonna hurt you. Would never hurt you,” he blew air where he had just planted a particularly wet kiss, then licked over it.

Gene panted, “Not worried you’re gonna hurt me. Worried I’m gonna make the most embarrassing noise you ever heard.”

Snafu snickered, “I like ‘em. They’re hot.” He spread Gene open and proceeded to fuck Gene with his tongue. Gene did, in fact, make a horribly embarrassing noise. And a loud one. “S’right, sweetheart, tell me all about how it feels.”

Gene was rolling his hips to meet Snafu’s tongue. Gene couldn’t talk, even if Snafu had begged him to. He just kept making loud whimpering noises. Snafu snaked a hand around and grabbed Gene’s cock. Gene came embarrassingly fast, still rolling his hips. Snafu maintained his hold on Gene’s cock until it softened. He kissed his way up Gene’s back, lifting Gene’s shirt as he went. Once Gene finally calmed down, he was once again struck by the act he’d done in front of God. He was going to have to do a hell of a lot of praying to make up for any of this. He laughed to himself.

“Whatchya laughin’ at now?” Snafu asked him. Rubbing his back.

“Us. I was a virgin not even 24 hours ago. Now I’m lying on the floor about three steps into your house with my pants around my thighs, come on your shirt, and we just did the most unspeakable thing I’ve ever heard of in my life.” Gene rubbed his forehead back and forth on his folded arms, shaking his head in disbelief.

Snafu slapped Gene’s ass with a satisfyingly loud smack then got up on his knees. Snafu yanked his pants back up and buttoned them. “We’re really cookin’ with gas now, Genie. It’s only gonna get better from here.”

Gene chuckled, “I’m gonna be dead before long. Might as well start digging a hole for me in the backyard.” Gene sat up and pulled his own pants and shorts up as he went. “You gonna give me that tour now?”

[101flavoursofweird]

Secret injuries would be interesting for some good Flora angst

((Thank you for the suggestion and I’m sorry this is late! I already used the ‘Secret Injuries’ prompt for Rook and Bishop whump... so I decided to add this to my new series about Flora— Put Yourself Back In The Narrative. It still contains Flora whump and angst... Flora secretly misses the professor and Luke, but Kat helps her realise that she’s not alone in that regard! This also contains some criticism of Layton’s decisions during the Relics investigation from Flora’s perspective. I hope that’s ok! 

Spoilers for the anime and most of the series below! It starts with Flora writing a couple of letters...))

- 

Em,

It's a relief to hear that the agency aren't involved... I still can't believe the professor never mentioned them! After everything you and Uncle have told me, I hope we never cross paths with those vultures. Don't worry— I memorised Grosky's phone number and I made sure Fen and Kitty did too.

Though, at the same time, it's disappointing that we've you've exhausted another lead. 

Where will you be investigating next? Is there anyone else who might hold a grudge against the professor? All of the people I can think of are in prison... well, except for one, but he wrote to me insisting he isn't the perpetrator. I'd be more inclined to believe him if he spoke to me in person!

Maybe you could come home and help us track him down? Kitty said she misses her favourite aunt!

And we could make up some better codenames while you're here.

You stay safe too!

Flora

-

To Our Wise Guardian,

Thank you for searching for our reclusive father and looking after our restless uncle.

I trust Miss Altava with my life. If she believes the agency aren’t to blame, then I believe her. I don't care what she did in the past anymore then I care about Uncle's past. She wants to find the professor just as much as he does.

Please remind Uncle of that, and don't let him burn down any trees. Climate change is a real thing.

If you aren't having any joy with the Azran sites, maybe you should take a break. (It sounds like Uncle needs it!) There’s a park just across the road from us where you could land the Bos airship.

Fen would love to talk to Uncle about this device he's been working on. And Kitty has been begging for some new books...

Until next time,

The Layton Clan

-

Dear Brenda & Clark,

We're doing alright here, though we'd be lost without Rosa!

Alfendi has been given some extra time to complete his end-of-year project. At Kat's last parents’ evening, her teachers said she can be quiet in class but other than that, they're pleased with her progress. 

Yes, Grandma Lucille is home now— we went to visit her and Grandpa Roland the other day. I just received Kuri is still with her family in Japan.

I feel awful for Marina's family... Please tell them that they're welcome here in England as well. I'm sure that wherever they are, Luke will protect Marina with his life.

...Arianna mentioned Tony's wedding. We'll all have to go dress shopping together. Kat's already decided she wants a yellow dress. (You might have some competition, Brenda!) Can Clark help Al choose a suit? He's a nightmare to shop for!

We can't wait to see you both. If you need help with the move, just give us a call.

Love,  

Flora, Al & Kat xoxo

-

Dear Arianna,

Don't worry about the late reply! You should see my desk— there are SO many letters I haven't even opened yet! I wish I really wish Luke was here. He’s so much more organised than I am...

I miss him too—

-

The ink was smudged from Flora’s tears. She tried to hide it by scribbling out the last line, but there was no saving the letter now. Sniffing, she crumpled the paper into a tight ball and threw it at her bedroom wall. She didn’t bother aiming for the overflowing plastic bin.

What a waste. If Alfendi or Kat had done that, she would have tutted at them. They couldn’t afford to be wasteful, even with the emergency savings their father had left them… 

Flora squeezed her black fountain pen (a twenty-first birthday gift from the professor), wishing she could snap it in half. 

He had planned for this. He knew he’d be gone for so long and there was a chance he would never return.

Flora hadn’t come to say goodbye to he and Luke the day they set off, but Rosa had. 

“What’s the point in searching for the girl’s father, after all these years? Why take the risk? Don’t you love Kat, Professor!?”

Yes, of course he did, but he wanted to solve the mystery behind her family. Solving a puzzle about a bunch of rocks was more important than raising his daughter, apparently. He had adopted Kat and now he was leaving her behind. 

Flora huffed out a tearful laugh. She, more than anyone, should have seen it coming. But she had believed (assumed) it would be different with Kat. 

The professor had taken Kat in when she was a tiny baby. A baby couldn’t be left home alone or sent to school. Parenting was a full-time job (as Flora was well aware these days). 

Luke had laughed when the professor first announced that he would be Kat’s father. 

Everyone, Flora included, had expected the majority of responsibility would fall on Rosa. Or, in Rosa’s absence, another eager friend or family member. (Grandma and Grandpa Layton, Uncle Desmond, the Monte d’Or gang…) The babysitting offers came flooding in much faster than when Alfendi was little. A newborn baby was far more appealing than a grief-stricken child.  

Flora would have helped look after her siblings even more, had she not been so busy preparing for university. 

But, in the professor’s defence, he had refused to take on any new cases and he had reduced his work hours. When he couldn’t escape his office at Gressenheller, he would bring Kat with him.

He had chosen the name ‘Katrielle’. It was an unusual name, but it went well with ‘Alfendi’. 

You would think eight-year-old Alfendi would be jealous of all the attention his new sister was receiving. It was quite the opposite. By spending more time with Kat, the professor spent more time with Alfendi; trips to the park, the library, the museum… 

Flora would join them whenever she got the chance. Kat was the glue that brought them all together. 

The professor had ‘officially’ adopted Katrielle Layton when she turned three. It seemed he had given up on finding her biological father…

And then Luke (Darn him!) had to stick his nose back in to the Relic Stones business. 

He had married Marina in secret just so they could move to England without the professor’s knowledge. Consequently, Flora had been kept in the dark too.

That hurt. After all these years, Luke still didn’t trust her. 

She could have assisted him with the investigation. She wouldn’t have told the professor… 

Luke had shut her out, along with Marina. (Poor Marina…)

Thankfully, Marina had sought out the professor as soon as Luke went missing. 

The idiot had gotten himself caught by Don Paolo. (Yes, a similar fate had befallen Flora once… when she was fifteen. Luke was twenty-five, trained in karate and he should have known better!)     

After Luke’s rescue, he was dragged back to the Layton household for a family reunion. Flora had given Luke an earful— “YOU DIDN’T INVITE US TO YOUR WEDDING AND THEN YOU ABANDONED YOUR NEW WIFE?!!”—before she hugged him. She had thought that would be the end of the whole Relics fiasco. 

She’d thought wrong.  

The professor had gotten involved after that. Family outings were pushed aside in favour of the Relics Stones. 

At Alfendi’s eighteenth birthday meal, the professor and Luke were trading research notes under the table. 

Flora found a house with her girlfriend, Kuri. The professor never once visited them, despite Flora’s many invitations. 

The day Luke left for his journey with the professor, Marina had called Flora, crying because she and Luke had fallen out. Flora had gone to comfort her. (That was the last time Flora had any contact with Marina.)

Flora didn’t blame Luke as much as the professor. Luke was a young man fresh out of university— reckless, full of heart and loyal to a fault. He had watched Kat’s birth mother die and now he wanted to scour the world for answers. But, as Arianna had said, the world was so vast… 

When Kat was born, Luke had been a student— too young to look after a baby by himself. So, the professor had accepted the role of being Kat’s parent. 

The professor couldn’t just adopt a child (three children) and run off ten years later. 

Kat wasn’t a puzzle that needed to be solved. She was a little girl.

A girl who never stopped eating sweets, but enjoyed going to the dentist if they would give her a sticker.  

A girl who still hoped Santa and the Easter Bunny were real, even if the Tooth Fairy was fiction. 

A girl who practiced her dad’s ‘detective’ poses in the mirror. 

A girl who didn’t like tea, but still insisted on drinking it.

A girl who could hold a heated debate with her older brother (eight years her senior).   

A girl whose family couldn’t afford a dog, so she stopped to pet every stray she met on the street. 

A girl who thought people would only befriend her because of her last name. A girl who feared those friends would leave her when they learned of her father’s absence. 

A girl who dreamed about her dad every night and woke up in tears.

A girl who was always trying to make her big sister smile…

“Hey, Floor…?” Kat knocked on Flora’s bedroom door, but she didn’t wait for Flora to answer. She burst in to see Flora wiping her eyes. Kat wondered, “What’s for dinner?” 

“I, erm… I thought we could have lamb stew,” Flora suggested, standing up from her desk chair. 

“Lamb stew? That’s Uncle Luke’s favourite!”

It was actually roast lamb… Flora could feel her eyes burning again. She turned away from Kat and tidied her desk. “I’ll be down in a minute,” she said distractedly. 

“I can help you clean up!” 

“Don’t worry, Kat—“

“Have you been writing more letters…?”

Flora glanced at Kat. Kat was picking up the ball of paper that had missed the bin— Arianna’s letter. Flora gasped, “Don’t...!”  

Kat, ever curious, smoothed out the letter and read it to herself. She frowned when she reached the end. 

Flora sighed. “No one was meant to read that…”

Kat carefully placed the letter on Flora’s desk. “I miss him,” Kat mumbled. “And Dad…” 

“I know…” Flora touched Kat’s head. “I do, too.” Her words were mainly intended to reassure Kat, but Flora meant it.

She missed them— both of them— so much. No matter how much they had pushed her away, she missed them and she wanted them back. 

“That’s okay,” Kat whispered, reaching up to grab Flora’s hand. She tugged Flora out of her bedroom and downstairs to where Alfendi was impatiently setting the table for dinner.  

Later, Flora would rewrite her letter to Arianna, signing off with: 

 …I miss him too. It’s okay if you ever want talk about it. I’ll be here. 

Sincerely, 

Flora