#sano shinichiro x gn reader

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Sano Shinichiro - "I Just Love Pathetic Guys"

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•

In which I've made an imagine about how pathetic Sano Shinichiro is and how I think pathetic guys are actually really freaking hot adorable. I just so happen to have a thing for losers and Shinichiro is probably the hottest loser in both the Tokyo Revengers manga and anime.

                                                                                                   

🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧

Imagine; he's talking to his friends about how he was yet again rejected for the nth the time now. You just so happen to be nearby and overhear his sad announcement; listening to his friends tease him about how he scares women away.

Imagine; you approach them after a few moments, when they've switched topics to something unrelated. You take his hand and write your number on it; only saying "call me sometime" as you wave goodbye and walk away. He'd be too stuck in the shock he felt to stop you and ask your name.

Imagine; you receive a call from an unknown number as soon as you step foot in your house. And when you pick up the phone you're met with his timid voice, asking if you're the person who gave him their number twenty minutes ago.

Imagine; instead of directly answering him, you somehow rope him into describing you and your first interaction. Hearing him trip over his words as he tries to keep his composure over the phone and seem proud an manly.

Imagine; you get him to practically beg you to allow him to take you on a date. You can't help but laugh how pathetic he is and you tell him so, but you 'agree' to go out with him anyway.

Imagine; he tales you out to eat and keeps reassuring you that he'll pay for everything but in the end, he doesn't have enough money, so you end up paying it in full instead. You can see how embarrassed he is and as bad as it makes you seem, damn do you relish in it.

Imagine; that during the rest of the date he somehow embarrasses himself in some way, shape or form. He can't even look you in the eye at this point and he walks at least two feet behind you, unwilling to try and lead you anymore lest he make even more of a fool out of himself.

Imagine; he drives you back to your place on his bike in silence, too scared to say anything just in case he has a slim chance of seeing you again. He stops in front of your place and you get off his bike, immediately turning to your front door. But, instead of going inside, you set the things he bought you down at your doorstep and walk back to him.

Imagine; that instead of letting him get the first word in, you tell him how much of a loser he is. You can see how deeply it affects him by how sad he looks, but you're not done talking.

Imagine; you take a fist full of his hair and yank him down for a kiss, smashing your lips together. You tell him how he's your exact type and how hot he was today. That he had better take you on another date or you'd kick his ass.

Imagine; you go into your home and you can still hear the hum of his bike's engine from outside. He's still sitting in fron of your house in complete shock. That is... until you hear a loud but muffled "Yes!" from outside.

Fuck. How can someone so pathetic be so damn hot at the same time? You couldn't wait until the second date.

🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[iadoremik3y]

YANDERE IZANA BE LIKE

EMMA: what do you mean izana is mental?

Y/N: I mean he’s insane, your whole family is.

MIKEY: how so?

Y/n: hes like a dog and wants to give me his findings, so like a dog would give there bone to there owner, he gives me his enemies heads.

SHINICHIRO: what?

Y/N: no cause, he will smile and be all happy about it to, you people seem to think this is some great gift.

MIKEY: you cannot be for real!

Y/N: yeah but atleast i say thank you to izana when he gives me some guys arm, you shits are so rude.

SHINICHIRO: how?

MIKEY: wth do you mean rude?

Y/n: I respect you guys loads, so cause idk what to do with the things he gives me, I keep em in the boxes he gives me in, and leave em outside your house, you never say thank you to me, how rude.

SHINICHIRO: …

MIKEY: …

EMMA: THAT WAS YOU?!?!??

Y/N: Yeah! But no thank you.

MIKEY: YOU OEFT DEAD BODY PARTS OUTSIDE OUR HOUSE AND EXPECT US TO SAY THANK YOU????

[softxsuki]

Hey. (°v°) Congrats on 1.5k, you deserve it Han. <3 I'm new follower and I am happy to be part of that number. For your special can I please request the troupe "He falls first and he falls harder" with someone from the Tokyo Revengers?I'm much sorry for any mistakes, my english is not good. (o_o;)

1.5K Follower Event: Trope 16 Tokyo Revengers

Trope 16: He falls first and he falls harder

This event is CLOSED for requests. You can view the masterlist here

Pairing: Shinichiro x Gn!Reader

Warnings: kissing :D

Genre: Fluff

Post-Type: Drabble

Word Count: 600 (i got ahead of myself again)

Note: Hello <3 no need to apologize, I understood you perfectly! I thought this would be cute to do with Shinichiro. For some reason I picture him as a hopeless romantic who believes in love at first sight, so I thought this would fit him perfectly. I hope you enjoy it! <3

“Good day at work?” Your boyfriend asks, already outside waiting to pick you up on his motorcycle.

“Not too bad, it’s a weekday so it wasn’t that busy today,” you greet him with a kiss, hoping in the space behind him. He passes back your personal helmet he bought for you back when you became an official couple, and wraps his leather jacket around you, informing you to put it on for extra safety.

You slip your arms through the material, it's snug and smells like him, the comforting scent more than inviting after a full day at work.

“M’ glad to hear it was a pretty smooth day for you Y/N,” he hums, kissing your hands before guiding you to wrap them around his waist, revving his engine, “Hold tight.” And off you went, the cool breeze of the evening blowing over you, though the helmet blocked the breeze from directly hitting your face.

It felt almost like yesterday when the two of you had met at your job. Shinichiro had come in just to use the bathroom. The gang had just finished up business nearby and he desperately had to empty his bladder, much to his members groans about it. Yet it had felt like fate when he noticed you as he walked out of the restrooms; you were helping a customer, a beautiful smile on your face as you patiently listened to their question.

He was intrigued and curious to stop by again–so he did. He instructed his gang to clear up the area around your store, ensuring it was safe enough for when you left work. No other gang would be caught dead in that area lest they’d face the wrath of the Black Dragons–only if they were causing trouble!

This continued for months before his members pushed him to make a move. The guy was head over heels for you, showing up to your store even though he didn’t need anything from there, he just wanted to see you. It only took that one sentence from you, “Do you need any help with anything, sir?” Your sweet voice rang from behind him, making his heart flutter. That was all it took to get things going. The rest was history.

…

“Do you remember when we met?” You ask Shinichiro as soon as he shuts his engine off, pulling up to the front of his shop.

“Of course, how could I forget?” He laughs, hopping off the bike, lending you a hand to get off as well before gently removing the helmet from your head so he can get a better look at your face. “Though, if I remember correctly, I had seen you first for a few weeks before you ever noticed me.”

“Well yeah because you were too scared to approach me on your own,” you tease, grabbing his hand. “Do you think we’d be together right now if I hadn’t spoken to you that day myself?”

He smiles at you, rubbing his fingers over your lips in longing–he was whipped. 

“Of course. No matter how long it would have taken, I would have eventually made you mine,” he hums, connecting your lips, kissing passionately in front of his store.

Though it was true that the man holding you had fallen for you first, and continues to show you endless love and affection, you held an enormous amount of love for him as well. You couldn’t imagine your life without him now–and you silently wished, together you’d stay as he continued to attack your lips, never seeming to get enough of you.

EVENT REQUESTS ARE CLOSED :D

REGULAR REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 9/25/2023

[celabi]

𝐖𝐈𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐓.𝟐

Featuring — Shinichiro, Wakasa, Kokonoi, Inui.

Rec by @wakasagurl !! Hope this is okay <3

✰ 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐎 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎’s heavy, booted footsteps are the first thing you can hear when you come too, along with a couple string of curses he lets slip past his lips when he slowly stumbles into your bedroom. “Sorry baby, did I wake you?” He mumbles, discarding his oil covered jeans to the floor and kicking off his dirty shoes— he watches you stir around in the blankets from the reflection in full body mirror that faces the bed— and he almost wants to throw himself to the ground when one of his boots won’t get off his foot. “No, you’re good… long day?” You mutter, and Shinichiro couldn’t be happier when you open your arms wide for him to nestle into your warm embrace. “You couldn’t imagine.” It’s his favourite nightly routine when he gets to start peppering your collarbone with small little kisses— while his mouth slowly makes its way to your neck, then your chin— and then finally they linger on your own lips for a while. He lets out a content hum as his eyes glue shut due to how cosy it feels to finally be in bed, but yours scrunch up in discomfort. Softly— you push him away by the forehead and swipe your mouth with your hand, tiredly giggling as he makes a face as if you kicked a puppy. “Babe… what?” You sigh and shake your head. “Stop smoking, or I’ll stop kissing you, I’m serious.” He only chuckles, letting his head fall back into the dip of your shoulder as he breaths in your scent. “You said that last time, yet here we are.”

✰ 𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐒𝐀 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈 already told you that if you pulled these silly little pranks again, then you’d loose your s/o privileges until you learn to behave— you always choose to ignore this because he takes you back in under and hour, and all you need is your cute like face and a couple of candy bars. “Okay… I’m off, meeting with the BD’s starts in like… two minutes.” Wakasa sighs in annoyance, shrugging on his coat and clipping his red beaded earring into his ear as he stares into the bathroom mirror, you watch him from the doorway. “But… it’s takes you like, ten minutes to get there?” He nods, puffing away a strand of his white hair that fell on his face while trudging over to you to pat your head. “Yeah, so? They can wait.” Before you know it— your wrists are softly being pulled towards the front door as he opens it before turning back to you. “Don’t stay up too late… or do, I don’t care. But when you get fatigued, don’t come crying to me.” He tries to bite back his small smile when your laughter fills his ears, but he shakes it off with his normal monotone expression. “Thanks for your concern, but you should get going.” He nods, dropping your hand and bringing his own up to hold your chin— leaning in to grasp his lips against yours, his thumb circling the skin on your cheek. But when you lean away and wipe your mouth with your sleeve, all the love he had for you vanished— he nods in understanding. “Got it, I’ll block your number when I get there, and I expect a two page paragraph of how sorry you are in my emails, the deadline is two PM. Have a good day.”

✰ 𝐊𝐎𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐄 doesn’t seem like a man who would adore skin ship— or any type of affection that involves touching, but he does, and it’s more then you would think. “Boss’es been in my ear all week for no reason, he’s like a damn fly buzzing around… but don’t tell him I said that.” He mumbles into your neck and lets out a sigh of content when your hand scratches that one spot on his head while you play with his hair. “Like I would talk to your boss… he’s scary.” He chuckles, his deep voice sending vibrations against your skin which makes you shiver. “I’know baby, so stay away from him, don’t want you getting caught up in this shit.” Kokonoi rolls his eyes even though you can’t see it, and presses a quick kiss on the center of your throat. “Using that new fragrance I brought you? Smells good.” You hum and nod, your fingers leaving his death hawk to rub your neck before going back like nothing happened, and you have to quickly hid your sly smirk when he props himself up on his elbows to stare you down. “What was that?” “What was what?” You swiftly reply in fake innocence, yet your smile shows anything but. His eyes narrow slightly before bringing your hand up to place a chaste kiss to your knuckles, not once blinking because he’s watching your movements like a hawk. You rub your fist against the velvet couch and give him a smile, one that he scoffs at. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you, sweetheart?” He gets up, gently but feistily swatting away your hand when you reach for him. “Babe?” “No, m’not your babe right now, I didn’t want your kisses anyways.” “…you’re so dramatic.”

✰ 𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐔 stares at you in confusion when you shake your head at him after he places a kiss to your cheek, even more so when you wipe it away with your thumb. “[name]? Something wrong?” And he fails to notice the phone recording five feet away when he pulls you in by the waist to give you another. Koko is snickering from his position at the desk while your boyfriend stares at you. “I brushed my teeth this morning…” he mumbles against your lips, if you’re wiping away his kisses— why are you reciprocating it with as much love as he is putting in? “Okay, thanks for telling me.” You laugh and he nods slowly, still in confusion even when you grab your phone to watch the video you took. “No… problem.” He pulls you in and leans his head on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist while he watches along with the screen. “Oh, you video taped us… what for, love?” “Cause they wanted to see your reaction, you’re so dense sometime, inupi.” Koko chimes in, you nod in confirmation. “Yeah, you looked really confused.” Seishu chuckles along with you, only because your laugh is so contagious that he can’t help it. “So it wasn’t my bad breath?” “No babe, your breath smells nice… like blueberries.” You can feel his nose rub against your neck before his body is slowly rocking yours side to side. “Yeah, I’m using the toothpaste you brought me, thanks.” He places a kiss to your shoulder, and shakes his head with an amused laugh when you wipe it away. “Ha ha, hilarious.”

[thewritingginger]

Fake Text - Shin accidentally sends gn text to group chat

🦃 Happy Thanksgiving 🦃 if you celebrate it! I’m sleep deprived and none of this has any relation to this post :)

Shinichiro slips up and send his good night text meant for you to the boys oops

Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Warnings: None, Crack, Cursing, Mistakes I’m too lazy to change oops, GN! Reader

[Wakasa] - [Benkei] - [Takeomi]

Enjoy ~

I hope you liked this

If you have any suggestions I can do for future fake text posts I'd love to hear it :) Feedback & Interaction is always appreciated 

💛 ~

~ Masterlist ~

[nian-7]

Hi there!

Can I request TR guy (chifuyu, mikey, shinichiro or whoever you see fit) x reader?

They get ask out by the reader who they do not know that well, but they decide to give it a shot and end genuinly liking them and enjoying the date.

Thank you for considering my request :)

hello! please enjoy, anon

Chifuyu, Shinichiro x gn!reader

✧getting asked out by a reader they don't know

✧fluff

-Chifuyu's a nice guy, he'll agree just because he would rather not hurt your feelings! He tells himself that it'll be a one time date and that would be that.

-That was until you mentioned how you had enjoyed Ai Yazawa's manga's. It was through manga that you both clicked and ended up heading the the bookstore after the date.

-He really thought he had started liking you just as a friend! You both had started hanging out more and more and it really didn't hit him that he had started to gain feelings for you.

-He was a bit dense about it until you had mentioned if he wanted to be your boyfriend. He genuinely froze, before his brain just accepted your confession. It wasn't something he realized until that exact moment and he's glad it still worked out in the end.

-Shinichiro has been rejected countless times and when you confess to him, he's honestly a bit shocked. He has to make sure you're actually talking to him and not someone else.

-Although he doesn't know you, he's willing to give it a shot. After all this time, someone has finally shown an interest (romantically) in him so he's okay with accepting and going out on a date or two with you, just to see how it'll go.

-He didn't realize how easy it'd be for him to fall for you though. On the second or third date, he started noticing your habits and how your face looks whenever you laugh or smile. It just hit him one night that he had fallen for you and he couldn't sleep the rest of the night.

-It was honestly a bit surprising to you when you had arrived to your date with him in the morning and he asked you to be his partner. You obviously had agreed which almost surprised him as if you both hadn't been going on dates already.

please do not repost any of my work without my permission, thank you for reading.

[clovers-garden-co]

im literally gonna start crying.. this is ridiculous- 

I hate brainrot so fucking much hhhh 

I’m on the verge of tears I hope this isn’t CRINGEY

GENERAL AND RELATIONSHIP HCS FOR SHIN ＼＼\٩(๑`^´๑)۶//／／

definitely makes dad jokes. the first thing that popped in my mind. 

he’s been rejected like 20 times.. so when he catches feelings for you he desperately tries to not make it 21 😭

y’know i think he’s a relatively good kisser. not in the “oh my god my fucking knees are going to COLLAPSE-“ no. but in the “my heart is melting from how sweet this feels” kinda way. those kisses that really warm your heart. 

he most likely has a variety of petnames and terms of endearment that he calls you, but it’s mainly baby or sweetheart (at least that’s what I’m thinking, I’m struggling not to cringe 🤷🏽‍♀️)

cuddling with this man… it’s just sickeningly sweet. like he holds you so close to him that you can feel the warmth radiating off of his body. 

i strongly believe he either sings or hums you to sleep 

another avid forehead kisser

his lips are really soft 

his hands are … rough-ish my hands are the same way but they’re not ROUGH rough y’know? In the middle between soft and rough 

he shows his love through acts of service andddd touch 

he can cook. yeah. malewife

maybe if he gets home earlier than you he’d cook dinner so it saves you stress and time. 

but his menu is very limited so uh.. not a whole restaurant 

that being said, I think he reads cookbooks just to try and make new things for you both to try 

trust me, he loves feeding you pastries and stuff. he squished your cheeks together after because you look so cute like that 

another person to go on late night rides with 

he wouldn’t really stop anywhere, but he’d drive you around Tokyo, maybe the city area where you can see the bright lights and aesthetic scenery you’d see in the anime or whatever 🙄

Japan is pretty though, gotta love the scenery there. Also the convenience stores oh my goodness - but I won’t go off topic 

he’d make sure you’re wearing a helmet just so you can look around.. he cares for your safety 

when you guys hold hands, he like.. intertwines your hand with his and it’s like qlmekenekwje he does the little thumb rubby thing 

he probably kisses your hand like a cute prince too, and you’d be the princess/prince

y’know what, maybe he calls you princess or prince too and he most definitely treats you like one 

overall, 20/10 boyfriend to have imo, I just have brainrot.. uhm L + ratio + bozo to the girls that rejected him.. and yeah. 

oh, and he doesn’t like mustard. 

[stxrmylxve]

Hey hey got like a 3 days net here how are things? Hope you are doing well and taking care of yourself. Make sure you are eating and drinking accordingly

Now hear me out darling... original timeline where shin nii stops working at the bike shop to become a nurse.... reader is also training to be a nurse... You wanna take a crack at it or should I?...

A/N: Hi bb!! I’m good, but make sure you nurture yourself too!! Hope all is well! I will do a little blurb on it cause this was so fun to write, but you should totally too 👀 if you have time ofc. (btw i changed it a little bit, but I hope you enjoy!)

“You’ll do great.”

You remember those exact words the day you left your house, from your friendly neighbor Shinichiro coming over to bid his goodbyes.

“I sure hope so.” you let out a dry laugh, already imagining the debt and possible loneliness by leaving this community around you.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that. We will be waiting for you when you get back.” the man smiles as he pats the kid’s back, so the smaller child, Mikey, lifts his small hand up and waves goodbye to you.

You did great, there was no doubt about that, but now you were high ranked and the stress was getting to you. Always having to do the filing, then going on shift to do tedious work nonstop, it was a lot.

But those words always floated back into your mind, and you couldn’t help but to form a soft smile on your face. He believed in me, so I need to do that too for myself.

“Y/N, my office, now.”

Uh oh. Your boss, which no one particularly favored, needed you? In his office? You hadn’t done anything, had you?

You set down the file you had in your hand on the metal table, slipping off your gloves and setting them on the back of your chair before walking to his room. Glances from desks nearby wished you good luck as you knocked on the door, allowing yourself in by the sound of a grunt.

The room’s cold air hit you like a train, but you didn’t let the coldness affect you too much as you straightened up and closed the door behind you.

“Y/N, thank you for coming.” your boss greated, his coffee-stained teeth being pulled into a smile.

“As you may know, you are a great worker. So much so, that I have set up someone to follow you… think of it as a job shadowing experience for them.” you boss rambles on as he lifts his hand, ushering to the silent man in the corner, whom you hadn’t noticed before the remark pointed at him.

“Mr. Shinichiro here specifically requested you on the application, bizarre isn’t it?” your boss chuckles as your eyes went wide, taking in the composed, and much mature, old friend of yours.

“Hey. Long time no see.” he says with a grin, extending his hand for a handshake as your shakey ones envelopes his. “It’s a true pleasure to be working with you.”

[a-nonbody]

October writing challenge

(This year I really just wanted to get back into writing without a topic, so here are some random Fics)

Kitchen (Chifuyu) Tokyo Revengers Fluff

2. Coffee Shop (Mikey) Tokyo Revengers Angsty/ Fluffish

3. It took me by surprise (Hakkai) Tokyo Revengers Angst/ Fluff

4. Pills (Sanzu) Tokyo Revengers Fluff

5. Paint on your face (Souya) Tokyo Revengers Fluff

6. Tell it to my heart (Wakasa) Tokyo Revengers Fluff

7. My dear Butterfly (Michael) Halloween Angst (Fluff)

8. Mx. Understood (Senju) Tokyo Revengers (Angst)/ Fluff

9. All the things she said (Susie) Dead by Daylight (Short)

10. Water under the bridge (Ghostface) Dead by Daylight Angst

11. Your beauty never scared me (Gyutaro) Demon Slayer Fluff

12. Replay (Laxus) Fairy Tail Angst

13. A quiet house (Ran) Tokyo Revengers Fluff

14. Not just a rock (Sabito) Demon Slayer Angst

15. You at my house (Mikey) Tokyo Revengers Fluff

16. How do you sleep (Rindou) Tokyo Revengers

17. Outrunning Karma (Kokucho) Tokyo Revengers

18. I stole your man (Kazutora) Tokyo Revengers

19. Not a robot (Shinichiro) Tokyo Revengers

20. Inside (Vincent) House of Wax

21. Like a flower (Kokushibo) Demon Slayer

22. Revenge (Sanzu) Tokyo Revengers

23. Sweet but Psycho (Taiju) Tokyo Revengers

24. All eyes on me (Baji) Tokyo Revengers

25. Family (Part 2/ Brahms) The Boy

26. Afraid (Hanma) Tokyo Revengers

27. Girls in Bikinis (Senju) Tokyo Revengers

28. Arson (Baji) Tokyo Revengers

29. Washing machine heart (Draken) Tokyo Revengers

30. Drift Away (Izana) Tokyo Revengers

31. Lies (Ran) Tokyo Revengers

[severeaesthetic]

Tokyo Revengers Masterlist

Nothing yet

[dazaiandhislovelybandages]

Hello I love your fanfics they are so interesting! Can I please have a fic for shinichiro Sano x reader who looks very intimidating but is actually very sweet and soft? Thank you I hope you have a nice day and remember to eat and drink!

(if you feel uncomfortable or do not want to do this fic feel free to delete! :3 )

Bad Is The New Soft {Shinichiro Sano}

A/n: Honestly, hands down, you have been the kindest person to request from me, thank you sooooooo much.

Pairing: Shinichiro x gn!reader

Trigger Warnings: none

Shinichiro had gotten used to it. The way your expression was completely blank whenever someone you didn't know was talking to you, or the way you naturally side-eyed people on the train, the way you stood, the way you walked... it even made Mikey scared when he first introduced you to him.

And Mikey was never scared.

Your stance had actually played a huge part on him not even daring to make a move at you and for fuck's sake he had been a gang leader. But Shinichiro had been scared, his hands were trembling and not because he was standing in front of the most beautiful person he had ever seen or because he had been rejected 20 times.

He could remember that day very very clearly. You had somehow agreed to go out with him even though he hardly knew you and you had been looking at him with a dead stare while he talked.

But then you stepped on him while the two of you were walking. "Oh my, I am so sorry." His eyes widened as the tone of your voice changed in a matter of seconds. He just looked at you almost confused.

"It's okay." He stuttered, trying to fight his heart beating faster and faster.

"Are you sure?"

That was just the beginning. Soon enough, Shinichiro figured out that you weren't actually intimidating but it was just a matter of time until you actually got to know someone. And you were so sweet and soft and so so gentle his weak heart could barely take it.

After the two of you got together, he could barely keep his hands off you. He just wanted to protect you, full heartedly believing that you were the most precious person on this earth -somehow Mikey was also convinced and one random Friday you got yourself two bodyguards.

But when the two of you were out, or when he wasn't talking to you? Your face was just blank, technically a resting bitch face. Grandpa Sano was intimidated at first which came as a shock to the Sano siblings.

The only person that immediately got to you was Emma. It was something that made Shinichiro and Mikey really jealous.

"Hello." Your voice was as soft as velvet when you talked to her for the first time. It was just odd, the young girl had immediately broken whatever walls you had around you with just a smile and a ponytail that leaned more towards on the left because Shinichiro was still strugging with doing her hair.

Shinichiro adapted to your behaviour pretty quickly. In fact, he was really smug about it, bragging to Akashi, Benkei and Wakasa that you hate everyone but him.

Of course his two friends never believed him because two days later, you were laughing with them as if you had known them forever.

[dr4kenlvr]

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 ?

feat. shinichiro sano, inui seishu, draken, mitsuya takashi, hanma shuji x gn!reader - fluff (1.3k+)

—in which you and the boys have a sleepover together.

nana's note: tried to write for some characters i don't usually write for (as per requested by my followers hehe)! i hope my characterization of them isn't too off, please enjoy and let me cry over hanma shuji again.

SHINICHIRO quietly shuts the door behind him, as he steps onto the balcony of his home. the warm air of a tokyo sunday travels across the exposed skin of his arms—a pleasing sensation as he searches his pocket for a lighter. a pack of opened cigarettes lay on the small table in the corner. shinichiro bends over to fetch one, lights it up, and takes a long drag. he sighs, leaning forward against the railing. everything is quiet, save for the sounds of people beneath him and the occasional loud honk of a car. but then, the sound of balcony’s door makes him turn.

it’s you—with your jacket half-on and hair disheveled all cutely. “shini, i’m gonna head home soon. i’ve got wor—”

“why don’t you just stay the night?” he says, almost without realizing. he takes another drag of his cigarette at your expression; are you gonna turn him down? but as he exhales, the smoke that evades his vision dispurses to reveal a small smile on your face. shinichiro feels his lungs somehow haven’t exhaled. 

you drop your bag on the floor, and join him outside. taking his hand in his, you begin to play with his fingers, pondering his suggestion. he looks at you with an expectant look, cigarette caught between his lips. “only if you drive me to work—without making me late.” you laugh.

shinichiro laughs with you, exhaling once more as he intertwines your hand with his. “well of course, darling.”

INUI rinses his face twice more, before you hand him a towel to pat himself dry with. “thank you,” he mumbles, voice muffled by the cotton smushed on him. you smile at him, glancing up at the bunny headband keeping his hair away from his face. he reluctantly agreed to use it, considering that no one else was around to see a man of his caliber wearing such an accessory. 

“you look cuter than you think, sei’” you look at him through the mirror, in time to see his face burn up the slightest bit before he turns his head away from your lingering eyes.

“just focus on washing your face,” he says, still refusing to face you. you giggle, as you lather the cleanser between your fingers and apply it to your face. doing skincare was a therapeutic part of both your separate routines, therefore nothing could victor the happiness you felt to do it with him.

you wash away the foam, pat yourself dry with a towel and remove your headband. taking his hand in yours, you lead him to your bed.

“you know, for someone who claims they hate the headband so much—why haven’t you taken yours off yet?” you tease, pointing out the pastel pink headband still neatly wrapped around his head. 

inui’s eyes widen, and you’re able to capture the full extent of his blush as he scrambles to take off the headband, throwing it in your direction with a huff. 

DRAKEN shakes the bag of chips, stopping when they almost spill over the edge of the bowl and onto his bedroom floor. you pop open another can of pop, reaching over to pour some into his cup. the two of you have been using this sleepover as an excuse to get high on sugar and empty calories. you’ve been at it for hours now, just mindlessly chowing down snacks while talking about everything and nothing all at once.

“that flavour is so ass, babe.” draken complains, slouching down against the side of his bed, his long arm extending over to grab some popcorn from your lap. he watches solemnly as the liquid fills his cup, before you retract your arm.

“quit your whining, you always drink it all anyways.” you retort, snorting at the look of feigned disgust on your boyfriend’s face. “besides, that’s not what you should be complaining about—try feeling the numbness in my ass from sitting on your floor for so long.”

draken laughs, coughing on his food. “my ass hurts too y’know!” he yells lightheartedly, making you laugh hysterically with him. “m’sorry i ain’t got a table for us to eat at,” he says, placing a hand on your thigh before squeezing slightly. “and i don’t think you want to eat in the main lobby of a brothel.”

you sigh, and scooch yourself closer to draken’s body. “it’s really no big deal ken, at least both of our asses hurt.” you lean up, pressing a kiss to his lips. “there’s no one else i’d rather share this butt pain with, anyways.” you say, mirroring the grin plastered on draken’s face. 

MITSUYA scrubs the plate in his hands with a sponge, coating it in soapy water before moving onto the next set of dishes in the sink. upstairs, he can hear mana and luna running around while squealing; they’re probably playing some kind of tag game. “be careful girls! don’t get hurt!” he calls from the kitchen, pausing his movements to listen for a response:

“yes brother! we’ll be careful!” luna calls out from atop the stairs, before huffing away as her sister chases her once more. mitsuya smiles, glad that they were able to occupy themselves when he had his hands full. behind him, mitsuya hears a huff too—but it’s from you, who's carrying a basket-full of laundry that needs to be folded. you place it down on the floor and begin to fold the articles of clothing, separating them between his clothes, his sisters’ and his mothers’. 

“s-sweetheart! you don’t need to do all that,” mitsuya scrambles to finish the dishes, when he realizes you’re intent on folding it all yourself. “you can just relax, i’ll be done in a bit.” 

you bite back a grin, and shake your head at him. “let me help you out takashi,” he blinks at you with an unreadable expression, “you deserve to have some weight taken off your shoulders.” 

placing a neatly folded sweater on the couch, you walk over to where he stands and wrap your arms around his waist from behind. you squeeze him tenderly, “let me help you,” your voice is muffled by his back, which you’ve shoved your face against. mitsuya’s hands—still wearing gloves, and covered in soap—are frozen as you stay there for a few moments. then he smiles down at you behind his shoulder, and with an expression of pure gratefulness, he laughs, “.. okay, my love.”

HANMA bickers you for the third time to get into bed with him: “babe! the bed’s so cold without you next to me, y’know?” he whines, making you shoot him a glare from across the room. he snickers, cheering like a child when you finally shut off the lights and walk towards the bed. hanma lifts the blanket for you to crawl under, pulling it over your body along with his own when you slump under. 

you groan happily, feeling all your muscles relax under the weight of the blanket, and hanma’s secured arms around your waist. “s’much better,” he mutters quietly, face tucked into the crook of your neck. you two had left the window slightly ajar, allowing pleasantly warm winds and the sounds of citylife to sway into the otherwise—silent room of your house. 

yawning, hanma presses a kiss to your nape and pulls you closer to him. you blindly search for his hands under the blanket, interlacing your fingers with his once you did, while shivers travelled down your spine at the feeling of his smile against your skin. you lift his hand to your mouth, pressing a kiss to his tattooed skin, earning yourself more pecks to your skin as his lips decide to travel across the expanse of your shoulders.

as your eyes become gradually heavier, you grant yourself the luxury of finally closing them. and before the wonders of sleep can completely take over, hanma whispers a quiet “love you, angel”, before falling asleep holding you in his arms.

taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @kazuhoya @gwynsapphire @sscarchiyo @reiners-milkbiddies @smileyswifeyy @bontensimp-blog @thisbicc @megumisemo (send me an ask or dm to be added!)

reblogs, comments and feedback are greatly appreciated!

[anisespice]

tokyo revengers boys when their horny but their s/o is too busy to deal with their shit? (u can add bonten-)

aye aye, anon! 🫡 needy men are my favorite flavor 🤤 thank you so much for your patience, and requesting ♡♡♡

pairing: tr x gn!reader

warnings: mature language, MDI. cursing, vague descriptions of sex, teasing, mild nipple-play, empty threats, crack!fic coded behavior, a tiny pinch of barely-there angst in mikey’s with a hint of misogyny, and i think that’s it :D feel free to lemme know if i missed anything!

notes: something about this request screamed sano to me, and maybe even throw sanzu in the mix for a little treat ( ˘ ³˘). also may have strayed a little from the original plot of the request, but the premise is fairly the same >:)) hope you enjoy !!

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @illegalspacecow

“Get outta there.”

Though your tone sounded stern, your demeanor remained placid as you continued typing on your laptop, making no move to actually stop the hands from creeping inside your sweater. You were well aware of their destination, and it was anything but harmless. SHINICHIRO was latched onto you the moment he arrived at your place, excited to spend his day off alone with you, and away from the prying eyes of his siblings for once. Rarely did the two of you get alone time due to your conflicting schedules, savoring the moments you did get without outward distractions in the way.

Things were going great for the most part…until your boss decided to dump busywork into your email, last minute.

“…tell ‘em to go fuck himself, so you can focus on fucking me,” Shinichiro grumbled into your shoulder, calloused hands feeling up your chest with slow, deliberate touches. You chortled, masking the small moan that nearly slipped out when he gently grazed your nipples.

“Good idea, Shin. But wait, oh shoot, fucking you won’t exactly pay my bills, now will it? So, knock it off.”

“Who says it won’t? I’ll pay your bills for the next month, hell, the next six months, if it means you’ll let me just stick it in, baby, please..”

You hissed through your teeth at the small pinch he gave your sensitive nubs, dick damn-near throbbing against your lower back as he rutted against you. Should’ve known sitting on his lap while you worked would backfire, poor thing’s so wound up, you felt a little bad. It’d been nearly three weeks since you and Shinichiro had even a second to breathe the same air, let alone touch each other.

You weren’t immune, craving a taste of him just as much, there’s nothing you wanted more than to succumb to his persuasion. But, having been on bad terms with your tyrant boss one too many times, you couldn’t afford to procrastinate.

“Shini,” you spoke, breathless as he suckled on your neck, growing more bold with his touch, “a-as much as I’d love for you to do that for me… you don’t exactly have the funds to make such an offer.”

He huffed, nipping playfully at your pulse. “I’ll get another job. Good? Good, problem solved, can you take your clothes off now?”

“Tempting…but no. Appreciate the sentiment, though.”

Shinichiro whined in the crook of your neck. His hands slowed to a stop inside your sweater, slipping down to rest on your tummy instead. It sent a tiny shiver up your spine, but was ignored all the same as you attempted to resume typing, seeming to have put a damper on his resolve. Or, so you thought.

Not even a minute passed when you felt his fingers searching for something else to play with. Something that has been calling his name since he waltzed through your front door. “Shin…”

Your warning fell upon deaf ears. Shinichiro merely shrugged, feigning innocence while his hands breached the waistband of your sleep-shorts, stopping right at your pelvic bone. Leaning back in the chair, the ravenette spread his legs further apart, forcing yours to do the same, giving him even more access to your already accessible center. Despite his lanky stature, homie had grip—Try and close your legs all you want, you’ll pull a muscle before pulling out of it. Your heart was borderline going Macarena, focus jumbled up to the point there were more typos than words in the report you tried completing.

You huffed, though your tone sounded less stern compared to the first time. “Shinichiro. If you don’t let me finish my work…I’ll ban your dick from ever entering me or this house for a whole month.”

On any other given day, that empty threat would’ve done the trick, hands flying off you so fast you’d think he got electrocuted. But, this wasn’t any other given day. This was already a two-week long hiatus of his most favorite place to be, in between your legs, and the only thing keeping him from it was your lack of underwear beneath thin-cotten shorts. Threaten him if you must, but it won’t work.

You weren’t fooling anyone.

Playing hard to get could take you so far, but he knew you were mere moments from crumbling to your desires you tried so hard to suppress, no shot you’d last another day, let alone a month. He was determined, and you were being stubborn—An immovable object verses an unstoppable force. Eventually, someone had to give. And it wasn’t about to be you.

It went on like that for another few minutes, him feeling you up and you batting him away. It only worsened the second he went further in your shorts, teasing your sex until you soaked through the fabric. You could feel his smug grin against your shoulder, no doubt thinking he was winning this battle. However, Shinichiro wasn’t aware of your trump card, your Charizard, if you will.

It’s a dirty trick. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

By slamming your fists atop of the table, startling him right out of your shorts, you turned to look him dead in the face, and said, “Don’t make me call Mikey.”

The mechanic widely blinked. But, his shock was short lived as he fixed you a sarcastic look, bringing his slick-coated fingers up to the light and right into his mouth to be even more obnoxious. After pulling them out with a wet pop!, Shinichiro called your bluff.

“You wouldn’t.”

“And would. Emma’s probably dying to catch up with me anyway, since I haven’t been around as much lately. And we both know Mikey would come just to spite you.”

As you continued to hold his stare, not backing down or giving any indication that you were joking, the sardonicism began to melt off his demeanor, and soon realization took its place. Shortly after that, betrayal. How could you be so cruel? He was already competing with an inanimate object, he’ll be damned if his siblings get added to the list. Taking a moment to weight his options, or lack there of, his face soon resembled a kicked puppy with his bottom lip stuck out and everything; you could’ve sworn his eyes started to water. “t’s not fair…been waiting all damn day…”

“I know, baby. But I need you to hang on for just a little longer f’me, okay? And once I’m done, then I’m all yours.” You cooed, placing a small peck on his nose as an olive branch. It seemed to do the trick, his frown softening as he pointed at his lips, puckering them. You snorted, but happily obliged, even placing a few more across his face until you got a smile. Shinichiro soaked up whatever he could as he leaned into you for more.

When it seemed he was satisfied, you turned back to continue working…only for the ravenette to try his luck one more time. “Can I get one here, too?”

You peered at him from over your shoulder—Give you one guess where he was pointing, wearing that all too pleased grin from before. You deadpanned.

“…I’m calling Mikey.”

“NoOO—”

—

“That’s considered sexual harassment, Mr. Sano.”

If he could time travel, MIKEY would beat the breaks off his past-self for ever encouraging you to fill the role of secretary at his work. At first, it seemed like a fantastic idea—Standing at his side, his pretty little assistant, wearing a tight uniform that left nothing to the imagination. He’d bend you over his desk and fuck you anytime he pleased, you’d call him Sir, and walk around the office filled to the brim with his cum until time to go home, then he’d fill you up all over again—The perfect work-life balance.

However, the gangster didn’t account for one teensy thing—You, actually taking the job seriously, and setting professional boundaries the moment you were hired on the staff. No matter if you’d be practically all over him in the car moments prior to clocking in, the second your kitten heels touched the marbled floors of the lobby…he wasn’t your lover anymore. He was your boss.

And he hated it.

“Sexual harass—You’re my s/o, [______].”

“Not within these walls, I’m not.” You continued reading one of the files left on your desk to review for tomorrow’s meeting, only for it soon to vanish right before your eyes. After a long blink, you held out an expectant hand to the stubborn blonde. “May I have that back, please?”

“No.”

“Mr. Sano-”

“If you address me formally one more time, I’ll take you right here in the middle of this hallway. Try me.” He hissed, holding the file out of reach.

You pursed your lips, fighting a grin. Seeing him get so worked up over not being able to get his dick wet was entertaining to say the least, but you were well aware he wasn’t kidding. Clearing your throat, you attempted to tread lightly as your expression morphed back to neutral.

“Alright. Mikey,” his eye twitched, but you continued, “would you be so kind as to let me finish reading the material for your meeting tomorrow? I would hate for anything to be amiss because I didn’t do a thorough review.”

“Tch. Where’s Kakucho? I distinctly remember assigning this task for him. Not you.”

You raised a brow. “You sent him on an impromptu errand to fill up the time he was spending ‘idling at my desk’. You remember that?”

Mikey averted his gaze. “…Don’t recall.”

“‘course you don’t,” you exhaled. “Mikey, with all due respect-”

“Not that name either.” He commanded, slapping the file back on the desk before placing his hands upon it to lean forward, towering over you. You couldn’t fight the grin this time, tilting your head up at him, amusement in your gaze.

“That’s your name, is it not?”

Mikey glared. “You know that isn’t the one I’d prefer you to use.”

With a shrug, you easily replied, “It’s what most of your employees call you. And last time I checked, that included me-” Mikey was quick to grab your chin, forcing you to look deep into his dark, deranged eyes. Man’s was definitely toeing line of his limit, and you were pushing it.

“And last time I checked, you aren’t like most employees. You’re my partner who’s working on my last nerve, and should really consider dropping this whole ‘professionalism’ act before I remind them why they were hired in the first place. And no, it wasn’t for your work ethic and attention to detail, or whatever bullshit Koko told you in the interview.”

Ouch.

Not to say you didn’t figure there were ulterior motives behind getting approved for the job, especially under the circumstances that you were heavily under-qualified to work in their type of environment. But, you tried your damnedest to keep up, do your part, and not be a burden on the team. For him to call it nonsense and boldly confirm such suspicions outloud? You think he realized his mistake the second your face reverted back to its neutral state. Wiggling out of his grip, you leaned back in the chair with your arms tightly crossed to your chest.

“That so? Well then, Michael, how ‘bout I remind you why a man shouldn’t mix his business with his pleasure. Things could turn ugly for him, maybe even end up losing both a loyal employee and a lover all in one day. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Out of all the names, that one made him cringe the most. A clear indicator of his grandiose fuck-up, one that if he didn’t fix immediately, he’d soon suffer the consequences. And your wrath.

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that. It came out wrong-”

“Oh, I’m sure it didn’t. You’re a man who speaks his mind, after all.”

Mikey, though subtly, panicked. This wasn’t at all how he expected the conversation to go. But, it’s not his fault! It was his dick doing all the driving. With you working for Bonten, his long hours became yours, and by the time you both got home, sex became scarce due to your exhaustion. He was immune to the taxation of the job, while it was kicking your ass. And to top it off, he couldn’t even cop a feel of his own s/o, in his own damn building, because of ‘power imbalances’ between a boss and secretary that was ‘socially unacceptable’, according to you…as you work for the biggest crime syndicate in all of Japan.

Flawed reasoning aside, it drove him insane.

But, no thanks to his lust-clouded brashness, if Mikey thought getting some action at work was difficult, his chances at home just got a whole lot worse. He’d be lucky if you even slept in the same bed tonight.

“[_____],” he sighed, reaching over to grab your hand, though you moved it away at the last second. “You do a fantastic job here, angel. Exceeded all my expectations, actually-”

“Well, based on the merits of why you hired me in the first place, that doesn’t sound like much.” At that point, you went back to reviewing the file he threw back on the desk, seeming disinterested. But, Mikey knew better.

He’d hurt your feelings. To be reduced to nothing but eye candy for him, when you were busting your ass off like everyone else, it stung. It was playful at first, but now the blonde had crossed a line. With determination, Mikey removed the file from your sight once more, rounding the desk before crouching down so he could level with you this time.

You allowed him to take your hands in his, still indifferent. Mikey spoke with a tenderness only reserved for you, one that never failed to melt any cold front you built to wane his efforts.

“I was being childish. I shouldn’t have diminished your role like that, and I apologize for making you feel like your work isn’t appreciated. I’m glad to have you as my loyal employee. Even if a visit in my office from my lover from time to time wouldn’t be too bad, either…”

His words trailed off, along with his gaze as he reminisced. You chortled, shaking your head. Mikey looked back at you, ghost of a grin on his face. “I’ll back off. Promise.”

You raised a brow, skeptical. “You mean it?”

“Mmhm. Under one condition.”

You groaned, “Mikey-”

“Manjiro.”

“Oh, is that the condition?” He lightly pinched you for the snark, resting his head on your lap. But, before you could reprimand him for his inappropriate position, your words catch in your throat.

His stare was intense as they gazed up at you with hidden hunger, the tenderness still swimming in the inky pools, but not as present compared to moments ago. Mikey licked his lips, nuzzling against your plush thigh.

“Work less hours. Don’t want you to run yourself ragged trynna keep up with the rest of us. We’ve been doing this line of work a lot longer than you have, baby. No need to overcompensate. I’m already proud of you.”

Steadily did those words make your heart melt, until your were practically mush once they’ve set in. To hear his pride in you almost made you kick your feet, for that was all you really wanted at the end of the day—Acknowledgment. Validation. Praise. And working less hours would definitely benefit in more ways than one, more so on your mental health. You won’t lie and say this new job hasn’t been a challenge, all the talk about blood, death and drugs, one could only handle so much.

“Thank you..Manjiro.” He lit up at the sound of his name spilling sweetly from your lips. “I greatly appreciate you saying that. But, what’s the catch?”

He hummed, hands releasing yours to caress your calves all the way back up to your hips. Mikey didn’t pull nor tug, more so just holding you in place as he continued to watch you like a hawk. Eventually he shook his head, tresses fluttering with him as they curtained the sides of his face.

“No catch. Work your hours, I’ll leave you be…But once those hours are up, you better be sitting pretty on my desk with your reports in one hand and your underwear in the other, waiting for me to choose between my business and my pleasure. Deal?”

—

“Pout all you want, I’m not sitting on your face.”

When you informed your darling SANZU that your Saturdays were strictly for housework, he honestly thought you were joking—What idiot in their twenties would spend the weekend doing that?

Evidently his idiot, that’s who.

Imagine his surprise when he showed up, unannounced, ready to have you on every piece of furniture, only to be threatened with a feather duster the second he went to grab your ass. “Paws off. I already changed the sheets on my bed, cleaned the bathroom, the kitchen, and mopped the floors, so unless you’re here to help dust or wipe windows, keep it in your pants, Haruchiyo.”

Needless to say, he wasn’t the happiest houseguest.

After the long work week he’s had, Sanzu was looking forward to locking the two of you in the back all weekend, going at it like rabbits with no other purpose but keep the neighbors up—Pretty much until the room stank. But, thanks to this cleaning ritual of yours, that wasn’t about to happen anytime soon. Especially not with the various scented candles you were burning to hide the potent smell of bleach and pine-sol. God, he was getting such a headache from overstimulation…and not the good kind.

“This is such bullshit,” he groaned into the couch, where you banished him after he tried to bend you over the washing machine while you were loading another basket of dirty clothes. “Why’d you even invite me over if we weren’t gonna do anything…”

You paused from folding, side-eyeing him. “I didn’t invite you.”

“You said you were staying in all day. That’s practically code for: I’m bored, come dick me down.”

Your laugh had snuck up on you, racking through your entire body to the point you had curled forward. The leap he took to draw such a conclusion nearly gave you whiplash as you attempted to regain composure. “Maybe for freaky-fucks like you, but the rest of us usually mean it as something mundane. Like, oh I dunno, doing chores.”

“On a Saturday?? What ‘re ya, 80??”

You shrugged, placing another item onto its respective pile. “You don’t have to stay, y’know. If you have something better to do, then by all means, don’t let me keep you.”

Sanzu abruptly sat up from his position, the clothes you had laid on his back flopping onto the floor, instantly losing their folded shape. You shot him an annoyed glance, but figured some of the blame was yours for using his skittish-ass for a table. The pinkette wore a pitiful look, wide cerulean eyes piercing right through you as he gave a defiant punch to the couch cushion, “Was ‘posed to be doing you! And you are keeping me from doing that!”

With a huff, you set aside the pile you were currently working through to gather up the clothes that he so rudely let fall to the floor. “Unfortunate. Now lay back down, and be a good table. Since you wanted to be chair so fucking badly.”

“Piss off.”

He absolutely laid back down.

© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[in-jail-out-soon7]

Merry Christmas!

In which you celebrate Christmas morning with the Sano household.

Manjiro Sano x GN!Reader

Warnings: Cursing & tooth rotting fluff

Being shaken awake, violently- Wasn't really what you had in mind for Christmas morning. Hissing as your blanket was ripped off of you and the cold air of Mikey's room attacked your bare legs.

The worse part about your boyfriend's room being in a literal garage/shed is that whatever temperature it was outside it was the exact same temperature inside.

Finally gaining some consciousness, you stared up at Mikey who was kneeling on the mattress over you. "Wake up, (Y/N)," He groaned, discarding the blanket he had just stripped from you to the floor.

"Mikey." Stretching your limbs and popping your joints, you stared annoyingly up at Mikey. "What time is it?"

"Why does it matter?"

You groaned and turned over on your other side to face the wall. The mattress raised and the old bed frame squeaked as Mikey jumped out of bed.

Mikey had spent nearly the entirety of Christmas Eve trying to convince your family to let you stay the night and spend Christmas morning with Him, Emma and his grandpa. A box of your mother's favorite perfume set, that he definitely made either Draken or Emma buy- not that he'd admit it- was what made her cave.

However if you knew it would be like this you would've chucked the gift right out the damn window.

You were definitely feeling the effects of staying out until two in the morning riding on the back of Mikey's bike through the city. He had also dragged along Draken and Mitsuya, their's and your complaints about the cold fell on deaf ears. You all knew of the tradition Mikey had formed with his older brother, Shinichiro, and Baji of riding through the winter snow on Christmas Eve.

So despite all the complaints, nobody had left his side until he was ready to return home with you.

A yelp left your lips when ice cold hands gripped the back of your thighs, yanking you to the edge of the bed. Mikey flipped you onto your back, your legs falling over the edge of the bed and your feet landed on the hard floor with a thump.

Left in a weird position with your upper body on the bed and the lower hanging off, your hips tensed then popped. You swung at him with an open hand. "Fuck, Mikey, go back to sleep!"

Mikey slapped your hand away easily and pouted. Without a word he placed a leg on either side of yours and flopped down on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"You're The Grinch," he whispered playfully.

"Whatever."

Mikey kissed your collarbone and giggled, vibrating the skin. He stood, but before he could pester you more a voice called from outside the shed.

"Manjiro! Emma wants you and (Y/N) inside for breakfast!" The voice was low and scratchy. Mikey's grandpa.

Mikey called back, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Okay, Grandpa!" Now you had to go with him.

You and Mikey slipped on shoes and jackets over your pjs for the two second walk to the house. The snow crunched under your feet as you made you way to the front door. Mikey opened it, after being out all night and sleeping with no heater both of you sighed contently at the warmth before removing your shoes and jackets.

Following the scent of breakfast through the living room to the kitchen, having to grip Mikey's sleeve so he didn't run head first into the pile of presents under the tree.

As you both took seats around the table the clock on the wall caught your eye.

6:34 A.M.

You don't think you've ever seen Mikey up this early before, and if you have he never went to sleep to fucking begin with. You silently glared at Mikey who was too distracted with the food Emma was currently stacking onto plates.

"Merry Christmas, you two," She said happily turning to face the table. Over a white sweater and black leggings she had on a red apron with a small christmas tree printed in the upper middle. She placed plates of waffles and eggs in front of everyone.

Mikey immediately reached across the table for the can of whipped cream, you pulled your own plate towards you. "Thanks for cooking Emma." You smiled at her as she took her own seat. Their grandfather, Mr. Sano, nodded in agreement, sipping on a cup of coffee.

Scooping some egg into your mouth, Mikey picked at the edges of his waffles. A mess of whipped cream on his plate. "Emma," he whined. "You made the edges of my waffles too crispy."

Emma huffed, pouring juice into her glass. "Than make it yourself next time, and where's that old towel? Not that I'm complaining, you really need to throw that garbage away." She drizzled syrup on her waffles. Mr. Sano chuckled from down the table.

"(Y/N) threw it on the floor."

"I did not!"

Mikey shrugged and stuffed more waffle into his mouth, he ignored the eggs.

Emma turned to you and poured juice into your own glass. You thanked her, took a sip and sighed. "Next time you see it throw it out for me, (Y/N)."

"I will."

Mikey gasped dramatically through a mouthful of food. "No you won't!"

Everyone laughed at Mikey's pout. The four of you continued to chat idly throughout breakfast.

When everyone finished Emma cleared away the dishes, dismissing any help you offered with clean up. Mikey dragged you into the living room, Mr. Sano following close behind after refilling his cup of coffee.

Mr. Sano turned on some random reality TV show and sat in his recliner while Mikey pulled you onto the floor next to him in front of the christmas tree.

"Now, hold on," Mr. Sano said stopping Mikey from ripping open the first present he found with his name on it. "Wait for Emma, Boy."

Mikey sat the present in is lap and groaned. "Emma hurry up!" The sound of Emma rinsing the dishes was the only response he got. Mr. Sano chuckled.

Mikey hung his head, his messy hair covering his eyes. You laughed softly and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear.

Looking down at the gift in his lap, you pointed at the tag. "I got this one for you." Your finger traced over your name written in fancy cursive- that Emma had insisted on writing for you so all the gifts matched.

Mikey tapped on the middle joint of your finger that traced the letters. He reached under the tree, knocking some presents aside until found what he was looking for.

He hands you a small gift with a poor wrapping job. "And I got this for you." You smiled and squeezed the gift softly trying to figure out at least the shape underneath the wrinkled paper.

"Emma didn't get onto you for this?" You giggle.

He shrugged. "I think I did great." You shook your head and sighed. Mikey poked at the present in your hand. "She said if I got to wrap it she got to hide it behind everything."

You laughed at that.

Emma walked into the living room holding a tray of three hot mugs of hot chocolate. "'Kay, I'm here!" Mikey exclaimed a 'finally!' then reached for the mug with the most whipped cream. You took one as well and thanked Emma.

When everyone had their first gift in hand, including Mr. Sano, Mikey was the first to rip the wrapping paper off his. You followed alongside him while Emma and Mr. Sano chatted behind you two on tne couch, opening their own gifts.

"Oh," Mikey said quietly. You looked at him. He gazed down at the now unwrapped gift in his hand: A toy airplane still in it's box.

Your heart dropped at his reaction. "You use to have one right? You told me it broke." Mikey nodded. "Shinichiro gave it to you." He nodded again.

"Yeah."

"Yeah." You repeated. "Sorry."

Mikey shook his head and sighed. Before you could respond about the change of mood an icy hand found it's place on the back of your neck, and warm lips on your own. It only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like forever before he pulled away. His lips were still sticky from breakfast earlier.

"It's the best." He said finally.

"What?"

"The gift. It's the best."

"Oh, good!" You sighed in relief. Turning back to your own gift, you discarded of the last few pieces of paper. You were finally left with a small box. You opened it to find a purple charm. Identical to the one Mikey has been carrying around since Baji's death.

"Open it," Mikey says softly from besides you.

Turning the charm over in your hand, you pull open the slit at the top and pull out a folded piece a paper. You began unfolding it.

It was a picture of twelve year old Mikey and you riding the old moped he use to have before he got a real motorcycle. The photo must've been taken by either Baji or Kazutora because they were the only two not in the background, but you chose not the voice the observation. Draken, Mitsuya, and Pah were blurry figures in the back, but you could still recognize who was who.

You traced over the faces of yourselves, clearly enjoying the experience despite both of you struggling to both fit on the moped. A smile stretched across your face. It had been the day you had tagged along with them to the beach. When Toman was only six members big.

"I didn't even know this photo was taken," you laugh.

Mikey reached into his shirt and pulled out his own charm that contained a photo of all the founding members or Toman. The same charm Baji carried around before his death two months ago. "I found it in here."

Taking a deep breath you refolded the picture and slipped it back into the charm. You turned to you boyfriend.

"Thanks, Mikey."

Before he could respond a flash caught you guy's attention. You both turned around to Emma giggling and Mr. Sano holding a camera.

"Grandpa- stop-" Mikey's exclaim was cut off by the doorbell.

Confused, Emma stood and disappeared into the foyer for a few moments while Mikey continued to pout at his grandpa.

"Throw it away, Grandpa."

"Nah," Mr. Sano said waving around the photo that had just finished processing.

Emma returned a smile reaching up to her eyes. A voice boomed behind her.

"Are we late!?" Draken, Mitsuya, Chifuyu and Takemitchy walked into the living room. All of them holding gifts.

Brushing his messy hair aside Mikey jumped onto his feet and made his way over to the group to greet them.

While everyone else was distracted in conversation you approached Mr. Sano.

"Came to try and throw it away too?" He asks holding the photo teasingly.

You shook you head and laughed. "No." You held up your charm.

"There's somewhere I want to put it."

[white-poppie]

I wanna be yours

Synopsis: You have had a crush on your older brother's best friend for years now, Shinichiro Sano, the biggest loser there is to exist, but he shares the same pining for you?

Pairing: S.sano x gn! reader Genre: Fluff-> Suggestive-> Angst -> Fluff, SFW TW: Age gap (4 years) smoking, crying, cursing, Waka being mean, Shin being the biggest flirt ever, sooooo much tension Phew~ WC: 2k A/N: Reader is around 18 here and Shin is 23. Before you come at me saying 'omg the age gap' shush.

Song rec: Just One Day by BTS (listened to it on rep while writing.)

You frowned at the grey clouds, meandering malevolently overhead, the moisture in the air made you sniffle as you found yourself tracing your steps to Shin's shop.

A weird dread lingered whenever you came to your brother's best friend's shop. The smell of gasoline and that crooked smile on his face, smeared with oil and dirt always sent a catastrophic spurge of butterflies in your stomach.

"Sano san," you called, entering the half-open shutter. Half-open to stop the water from entering. You were drenched from head to toe, clothes sticking uncomfortably to your skin and the cold made you shiver.

Shinichiro peeked at you from under one of the cars. His black tresses stuck to his forehead due to the sweat and humidity under the machinery, "Hey Y/N", he drawled, his eyes squinting to adjust to brightness as he saw your pathetic and soggy state, "shit, you're soaked." He said stating the obvious.

With a slight groan, he got out from under the car, his breathy voice sending shivers down your already trembling figure.

Dusting his pants he looked at you, "Got caught in the rain?" He said with his onyx eyes seemingly undressing your soul.

You bob, "Do you mind if I stay here till the rain stops? It's really cold."

Shinchiro nods as he picks up a towel to wipe his sweat with, throwing it somewhere on one of the bikes. He looks at you for an uncomfortably long time, his inky, dark eyes raking on your drenched silhouette. He has to clench his fists to stop him from staring, he sighs and walks into the storage as you stand awkwardly, soaked like a duckling in the middle of his shop.

He comes back with a jacket, his posture straight and wide shoulders pushed back as he walks. He grabs the jacket with his hand and comes close to you, you can smell his peppermint aftershave, his chest inches away from your face as he puts the jacket on your shoulders, fixes the collar, and tucks your hair that falls loose behind your ear so that it doesn't get stuck in the zipper. It takes him all humane strength to not caress your cheek and pull you close as you look up at him with those doe eyes of yours.

"Feel warm enough?" he says softly, his voice all raspy like he is thirsty for something.

You nod and flush, looking away, feeling as if you are melting from his intense gaze.

A breathy laugh escapes from his nose as he pats your head, "So cute."

You gulp as your heart thumps in your chest. You've had a crush on Shinichiro since you first met him when your older brother Wakasa brought home a kid with a funky-looking hairstyle. You were 8 at that time and Shin was 12. You were experiencing those cliched-brother's friend trope, god you have rejected so many boys just for him.

And being so close to him, even after all these years, sent a catastrophic spurge of sparks, his voice, his scent, his gaze--it was almost painful, trying to take each breath in the heavy air.

Shinichiro breathes shakily as he looks into your eyes, he seems to be in a spell-bound trance at the sight of you...and you are so close to him, his arms itching to embrace you, his fingers parched for the sensation of your skin underneath them, it was almost perverse how his desire for something so tender and non-sexual was killing him from inside.

"Sano-" you whisper breathily, eyes flickering at the taller man

"Shin," he corrects you, his fingers still resting behind your ear, “It’s Shin for you.”

You gulp and nod softly, heart muscle thumping like a jerking light bulb, spasmodically. Your hands and feet were cold, it was like adrenaline was pumping in your body, everywhere except your face, which was flushed.

"Shin," you correct yourself softly as if relishing the syllables of his name on your tongue.

“Good job,” he says, his eyes filling with something so raw, you felt undone by it, The hand that rests behind your ear now moved to rest on your cheek as he slowly closes his eyes and leans in.

Your heart speeds up at the gesture, but there is this void in the pits of your stomach that makes you move away, “stop,” you say softly.

Shin snaps out of the trance and takes a step back, “shit, Y/n I am so fucking sorry, I should’ve asked before, is ms sorry I misread your actions.” He sighs guiltily, his stomach almost dropping at the thought that he made you uncomfortable, "I am sorry, I really am, I should have been the mature one in this situation instead of getting carried away, you are still a kid.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

Your heart hurts at the word thought that he still thought of you as a kid, you were an adult, what difference did it make if he was just a couple years older than you?

“ ‘S not why I moved away,” you say and look at the ground, knowing that if you look into those abysmal eyes, they would draw out the tears in yours. “Your explanation just proved that I did the right things- you feel as if that desire was impulsive, lust-fuelled.” Your voice cracks as you explain it to him, “I don’t want that, I don’t want that half-hearted kiss, without any romantic feelings just because of one day, I don’t want that Sano san.”

His throat felt dry at the pain in your voice, the crack in your words and the use of his family name, “who said to ya that it was a momentary thing?”

“Please,” you chuckle bitterly and sniffle, “you confess to every other girl, how am I different?”

“You are different,” he says sternly and takes your hand in his. His rough, calloused hands, the skin cracked at the intense work in the shop. “Yer’ special to me.”

“Bet you say that to every girl,” you say on the verge of crying, you would’ve died, take your feelings to your grave, but this was so much more painful.

“I don’t,” he says softly, the smile lines on his face lighting up his pale skin, “I’ve only said it to you, never seen anyone as perfect as ya'. I am addicted to you.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

"Then why didn't you- why didn't you show any interest before? Why didn't you ever confess before?" You ask, harshly, there is a rawness in your voice, a slight desperation. You don't even try to hide your emotions anymore.

"I thought you'd be weirded out," he says and almost traps you at how close he is to you, you can hear how his heart is hammering against his slender frame, "I thought you'd be weirded out by the fact your nii-chan's best friend had taken a fancy in you."

"Shin," you say sternly and grab him by the collar of his work shirt. His breath hitches as he keeps a hand a few inches above the wall where you are standing, to prevent himself from stumbling into you. His breath is fanning on your face, a trembling arm propped over your head and face barely inches away, "do you really think I care? You are barely 4 years older than me, we are both adults, why are you hesitating?"

Shinichiro just looks at you, speechlessly, his eyes wavering between your eyes to your lips and then back at your eyes again, "dunno." He says, "been so attracted to you for the longest time, dunno why I am hesitating."

You gasp at his deceration, heartbeat speeding rapidly, he is just inches apart, you can feel his minty breath hitting your face, goosebumps erupting on your arms.

Shin leans in, as if testing the water, not quite close to your lips as his half-lidded eyes undress your soul, "maybe I am hesitating 'cause of Waka."

"Waka-nii always scared boys away from me, back in middle school, I never protested though, my heart was already on his best friend after all," you whisper out, your fingers holding the fabric of his

"Fuck, you've been waiting for that long?" he says, his breath a little unsteady at the proximity, "been' waiting that long for me? What did you even see in me, I had the shittiest hairstyle and was the biggest loser ever."

“I saw you, the real you,” you say softly, “I saw your soul, kind, compassionate and so caring. You say and wipe a small spec of grime against his porcelain and statuesque face. “I saw your resolve, that toothy grin, hands so caring they carry the weight of the worlds.”

His heart thumps at each sound that leaves your mouth, shivering at the chafed intensity of your words, he doesn’t speak. He doesn’t move.

“You are so warm, Sano san, you are warm like the sun, I can’t help but bask in your glory,” you say with a cathartic outpour of sealed devotion.

Shinichiro Sano is silent. He breathes in your words, your presence and the reality called forth, "hell, you're gonna make me cry." He says, his nose slowly brushing in a tint of delicate pink.

"You made me cry so much more," you chuckle and shake your head.

Shinichiro's eyes gloss in empathy, " I'm so sorry. You know, I guess I'm still the old stupid Shinichiro, huh? Always making dumb mistakes. But from now on… I'll change. I'm never gonna make you cry again, I promise. I'll try and give you all the happiness I never could when we were younger. I won't ever leave you unhappy, I promise."

Your heart thumps wild against your chest, eyes filling with a warmth that you can't quite control at this moment.

Shinichiro's mind runs into an overdrive at the thought of you yearning for him for so long. These past few years were hell for him but for you? You've succumbed for so long. His mind runs to think of Waka, and how he would punch his face at knowing what transpired in his mind for so long...but it would be worth it. Waka would kill him, and break his bones, but it would be worth it. You would be worth it.

And then Shinichiro inches closer, without paying heed to the consequences of his actions. His eyes flutter to your lips, begging, starving, longing for your words of agreement before he makes an advance.

"Kiss me Sano san," you say softly, your breath fanning against his raw and bitten lips.

Shinchiro smiles, boyishly, his white pearlescent teeth, glinting under the dim light of the shop. The sound of rain pattering against the metal shutter echoes, but nothing is louder than your heartbeats, "it's Shin to you."

He says and closes the distance, finally. His lips moulded against yours, hands holding your face, shoulder hunched upwards, and head leaned towards you. His long black lashes flutter in delight as you kiss back, the pace slow, sensual and full of longing.

When you pull away, you rest your head against his, and just bask in his embrace, wordlessly, as if recollecting all the memories of all the time lost.

"WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON HERE?" you hear a piercing shout that makes you whip your head and sweatdrop to see Wakasa.

"Finally?" Takeomi peeks from behind Wakasa with an amused grin and looks back, "Oi Benkei ya gotta pay me up!"

You hear Benkei sigh and Wakasa glares at them...everyone had a lot of explaining to do.

© white-poppie 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, or translate without permission. do not claim work or layout as yours.

— TOKYO REVENGERS - Fanfictions

TAGS: @akumicchi, @denkis111, @jazzylove, @lordmypantsaresocool, @futuristicallykawaiiturtle, @kristaline2dmensimp, @rintaroubby @nanaseishiro @cleaningfairylevi, @6-022-10-23

PPL WHO ASKED TO BE TAGGED IN THIS FIC (temp tags, lemme know if you wanna be added to my permanent taglist): @hunterelys, @butterfl1ies, @n3zuna

psst, hey, over here! Uhm hi :) Do you like reading? If so can you please check out my first novel? I am a 15-year-old author who needs support, I assure you it won't disappoint! It's okay if you don't buy, it would be enough to share the link with someone else who might be interested! I humbly request you support my career as a child author by purchasing my book. This would help me to write more books in future. “Of Vengeance and Ashes” -> BUY NOW!!!!

Also Check out: L'appel du vide (✔️) (Synopsis: Your husband, Hanma Shuji is dead! With no memories of what transpired two days before his death, you team up with Tachibana Naoto, Chifuyu Matsuno, Ryuguji Ken and Mitsuya Takashi, you go on a journey full of betrayals and twists. Can you find out what really happened to your husband? 🌼 ☕🪐🧸🦋)

[8aji]

too busy saving everybody else to save yourself. // s.s.

to think of a life without him filled you up with such sorrow you thought you'd let yourself drown just to be with him one last time. — or, an account of the events that transpired after the night of august 14, 2003.

pairing. shinichiro sano x baji!reader

wc. 18k

tags/cw. MDNI, angst with happy ending, fluff, hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers, baji!reader (reader is baji’s sibling), manga spoilers, shinichiro lives, anxiety/panic attacks, smoking, mentions of death, characters cry a lot, mentions of head trauma + hospitals + needles + blood, reader gets called 'nee-chan' a couple of times but other than that its pretty gn, very suggestive (one make/out sesh), takeomi is clowned a lot + please let me know if i missed anything!

a/n. its finally done sob i spent so much time polishing this as much as i could and what was supposed to be a 1k drabble mutated into this lmfao but all in all this fic is my baby, my child, and i love it so so much i just hope y'all will like it as much as i do !! a massive thanks to @tetsutits for betaing and to @mosviqu for letting me run the storyline through her !! hope all of u enjoy lots n lots !!

m.list ˖ tags ˖ byi/dni

One step, one blink, one breath, one step, one blink, one breath; like on autopilot, the pattern repeated itself over and over again. You could feel it beating inside your skull; the pounding of your heart resonated throughout your body, acting as the fuel behind your every move. 

Your blurry gaze amplified all of your other senses, sending your brain into a downward spiral of emotional overwhelm; the loud keyboard clicking, the obnoxious chatter, the drinking and munching of coffee and donuts, all of it made you want to tear your ears off. How could the world keep turning, people existing like normal, while you were being consumed by the tightness enveloping your lungs? The thought made you want to light up the whole building, watch it burn as the flames simmered the concrete to ashes to relieve the turmoil brewing inside your body. 

“I'm coming for Baji Keisuke?” You asked, barely managing to string the words together in a coherent sentence, head going a thousand miles per hour. “He’s my brother.”

The officer behind the desk pulled down his magazine, looking you over and taking in your dishevelled state. “Ah,” he sighed as soon as your brother's profile appeared on his screen. “Baji Keisuke, the little rascal with the breaking and entering charges, huh?”

lips forming into a thin line, you nodded, biting your tongue so as to not insult the man in front of you who, for some reason, couldn't help but chuckle, as if a twelve year-old kid being detained was funny. 

“Can I see him?”

He gave you one last obnoxious glance, before typing on his computer.

“He’s currently under police custody,” he explained condescendingly as if you didn’t know, pulling a manila folder and pressing the button on the printer, handing you a pen in the meantime. “He's only got a minor charge compared to the other brat he came in here with,” He let out a quiet cackle, not wanting to attract anyone else’s attention. To you, it was like he acted this nonchalant to rile you up, make your blood boil. And, in spite of your reluctance to admit to it, it was working. Being in his presence made you want to punch him. “We’re betting on whether the other kid’s gonna get charged with manslaughter or not.

“And just between us,” he made a come hither motion, but leaned forward on his chair at your lack of reaction. “I’m betting in favor of manslaughter, so I'm crossing my fingers for the guy to die soon, ‘ya know?”

Had you been wearing long sleeves, he would’ve been able to see you rolling them up, emotionally prepared to be charged with aggravated assault against a police officer

Fortunately, another officer called out your name, catching your attention before you could act on the violent scenarios coursing through your brain. You didn’t bother excusing yourself before leaving to find your brother.

He looked small, smaller than he actually was, as he sat on the floor with both his knees close to his chest. His eyes were puffy and red, it was obvious he had been crying; though by the looks of it, he had yet to stop.

The cell door sounded like nails against a chalkboard as it scraped against the floor. It made him flinch in surprise, snapping him out of the borderline-dissociating trance as he looked up at the intimidating officer, trying to gauge his intentions while gathering all the energy he had left in his body to fight off the man just in case he needed to. But as soon as he made eye contact with you he could feel himself lowering his guard. 

He didn’t even hesitate, his body moved on his own, running past the officer and straight into your arms, letting the harsh sobs he had tried bottling up rack his body, along with muffled apologies and incoherent explanations.

“It's okay,” you mumbled against his hair, trying to calm down his heart wrenching cries. He nuzzled his face against your neck, trying to get impossibly closer to the sound of your voice. You waited for him to nod, still clutching at your clothes with all the remaining energy he had. “He's strong, he’ll be alright.”

Though at this point you were unsure whether your words held any weight against the grand scheme of things; hopefully all your promises won’t turn into bold-faced lies.

You made your way out of the cell together, holding his left hand as he used the other to rub at his eyes, itchy and dry from all the crying. The two of you walked past a couple of cells before he stopped for what seemed like a millisecond, mumbling something under his breath in weak anguish. Had you not been hyper aware of everything going on around you, you wouldn’t have noticed the slight tug at your hand.

Kazutora sat on the floor the same way Keisuke did, knees pulled up to his chest, biting his cuticles raw to stop his brain from looping the traumatic set of events like a broken film; still, it wasn't enough to stop his whole body from trembling in shock. The distress fresh in his eyes made you want to drop everything just to hold him close, comfort him like you did with Keisuke. 

But you didn’t have much time, the officer behind you pressured the both of you to move, and considering Keisuke remained under police custody, you weren’t willing to risk him getting locked up again now that you had him by your side.

“Wait for me over there, okay?” You said, pointing at the waiting area. “I just have to fill out some paperwork and then we can go home.” He held your hand even tighter in his grasp in response, as if he was scared to let go. “I’ll be quick, promise.”

Reluctantly, he dragged his feet as he walked, not wanting to stray far away from you. At least there was still some sort of stubbornness left in him. You’ve never seen him act like this, uncontrollably crying and apologising, devoid of the mischievous glint in his eyes. Knowing the Keisuke you knew was still there comforted you.

“How, uh, how much is bail gonna be?” You asked once he had made himself at home on the plastic chairs. Thankfully it was someone else behind the desk instead of the asshole you had the misery of interacting with. 

You knew it wasn’t going to be cheap, already having a grasp of fines and bail costs thanks to your friends getting into trouble, but even with this knowledge, their response sent a shiver down your spine.

Maybe you could use some of your own savings, or part of your college fund. Using your mom’s money was also an option, but you didn't want to put the burden on her. If you skipped a semester it could give you some time to earn the money back, but you were already behind in a few classes, and the minimum wage from part time jobs wouldn’t stack up too much, so was it truly feasible?

Fuck, you knew they were children but you couldn’t help but curse at their recklessness, their stupidity and naivety. Did they actually think stealing a bike would be that easy? And now you have to pay for the consequences, quite literally. Of course, you could always leave him here, let him face the consequences straight on. There was nothing forcing you to bail him out. But who were you kidding, you’d kill for him, of course you were going to pay.

Making sure he was still where you left him, you looked over your shoulder back at him. He was slumped over his knees, aimlessly playing with his fingers as his eyes fixated on the corridor leading to the cells, a solemn sadness washing over his features. 

No. 

You weren’t going to. You were going to pay for your brother’s sins, or whatever the cheesy line says, and leave to never look back. You didn’t owe this other kid anything, most certainly when you couldn't afford it. But, after knowing him for so long, the thought of him staying in the middle of four cold walls until further notice broke your heart.

“Actually,” you sighed. This was gonna cost two semesters instead of one. “Could I pay for someone else’s bail as well?”

At first, he refused to acknowledge your presence, biting harder into his fingers. He tried self-soothing through slow back and forth rocking motions and the unintelligible words that spilled from his mouth, hugging himself tighter the closer you got. 

He didn’t move, frozen in place as if the lack of movement would make him invincible to the naked eye. He didn’t cave in no matter what you did, not when you kneeled in front of him nor when you whispered his name in hopes he would acknowledge your voice.

It only took a couple of seconds after that for him to shyly meet your gaze, warming up to you in an instant and clinging onto you just like Keisuke had done, though he did so with a lot more desperation, this sort of comfort foreign to Kazutora. He felt so small in your embrace, burying his face in your shoulder, the only thing he could do was claw at your body for reassurance. Other than that, he didn’t speak, didn’t cry, he almost didn’t move, to the point it had you questioning whether he was actually breathing. 

Once you coaxed him out of the cell and got a hold of your brother, your sole focus was on guiding the boys beside you out of the precinct as fast as possible, one hand holding Keisuke’s while the other rested on the back of Kazutora’s head. They didn’t need to spend more time than necessary in this place, surrounded by grimy cell blocks and seemingly socially inept officers who couldn’t keep their rambunctious laughter down.

Wakasa was sitting on his bike outside the police station waiting for the three of you, and though initially it was supposed to be just the two of you riding along with him, he wasn’t surprised you paid for your brother’s friend’s bail. He kept a fairly laid-back exterior, lit cigarette hanging from his fingers replacing his preferred strawberry flavored lollipops, inhaling back the smoke that seeped from his parted lips and freaking out on the inside.

The two of you were hanging out when multiple calls blasted through your phone, prompting you to rush to where you were now. First it was one from the hospital, one of the bearers of bad news that didn’t let you dwell on the fact that Shinichiro had written you down as one of his emergency contacts. Then came the call from the police station, sinking your heart down to the bottomless pit in your stomach.

“Everything alright?” He asked, putting out his cigarette, smothering the stick with his boot along with the other three he had finished while you were inside. 

You hummed in response, words dying in your throat. The silence around you itched and burned, made your skin prickle with discomfort, and even so, no one dared say anything besides the occasional noise of acknowledgement. They weren’t dumb. They were one-hundred percent aware of what they were doing, and this wasn’t something you could blame on their age either. Yes, they were kids, but a twelve year old should be able to discern right from wrong; aware that stealing is bad and that murdering people is wrong.

And deep down, you knew this was even more fucked up than it appeared to be. You knew Kazutora wouldn’t have cared for the victim had it not been Shinichiro. The only reason he was shaking like a leaf, flinching when Wakasa fastened the belt of his helmet against his head, was because he hurt Mikey’s brother. That’s not to say Keisuke was innocent, it was clear he wasn’t. Intentionally breaking into someone’s shop to steal a very valuable, very expensive, piece of equipment and potentially complicit in someone's murder. 

You wanted to tear your eyes off at the thought. Did they really think they could get away with this? That it would be as easy as stealing some candy or gum from the corner store? You wanted to curse them out for being so stupid, so naive. But looking down at their sunken faces, eyes bloodshot and teary as they sweated fear from every pore on their fragile skin, it made you want to excuse all their horrid behaviour, ignore the fact they committed a crime and in the process they mortally wounded an innocent man. 

You held down an involuntary gag at the violation of your principals, the memory of what had just gone down stirring unwanted bitterness inside your stomach. You were no one to criticise the two kids sitting between Wakasa and you. They could be stupid, but you were the weakest of them all.

“Let’s get going then.”

You could question your moral compass later, first you had to get them home.

The voices of the characters talking in the background faded into an uncomfortable white noise as your muscles dissolved along with your bones, breaking through your skin and seeping into the cushions of the couch. Each time you breathed in the more stressed you became at the uncertainty of your friend’s mortal status. 

You hadn’t received any news from the hospital, and though you knew that if they hadn’t called by now, they probably wouldn’t at least until tomorrow morning, that didn’t stop you from imprisoning your phone close to your chest. Maybe if you channelled all your strength into your hold then you’d lose the urge to cry.

In spite of their initial resistance, it didn’t take long to put the kids to bed. The two of them drifted off to a bitter, yet hopefully replenishing, sleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow. It wasn’t surprising, the whole incident had drained the both of them to their core.

“‘Sure you’re okay?” Wakasa asked, and had it not been for his voice you're sure you would’ve dissociated the rest of the night. Maybe the kids would find you the next morning still sitting on the couch, frozen like a statue as you stared at the ceiling, and freak out because they’d think you had died along with ‘Shinichiro-nii’. 

You hummed, it was the only response you could muster it seemed, with your eyes zeroing in on his shoulders, then his cheeks and then his earrings. Looking straight into his eyes would do you no good. It’d blow your cover in less than an instant, and though it’s fair to say it was a shit cover, amplifying your grief through your dejected silence instead of toning it down, it made you feel safer from the imminent doom. Still, shitty cover up or not, Wakasa knew you weren’t okay. You wouldn’t be able to fool him even if he was stupid, and at this point, he’s convinced you wouldn’t be able to fool anyone; a single glance your way was enough to tell you were silently crumbling. 

He let his head fall backwards against the back of the sofa, sighing in acknowledgement. No matter how many times he asked, deep down he knew you would only cave in at your own account, But at least his question somehow managed to bring you back down from the maze your brain had started fabricating to earth. And maybe, just maybe, if he gave you enough space that’d prompt you to speak. He didn’t mind waiting. Not for a couple of seconds, or the couple of minutes those seconds turned into, or the couple of hours they mutated into next, and so on until days and weeks and years had passed, until the scarcity of time felt infinite.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” You broke the silence, biting the edges of your words as if you wanted to hide them back inside, voice shaky and heavy against your tongue. 

He hesitated, sharing a seat next to you inside the same sinking uncertainty boat, “Shin-chan’s stronger than you think.” He tried reassuring you, or himself he wasn't sure, but at this point the more he tried to tell himself his friend was still breathing, the more it felt like a lie. Shin-chan was stronger than the two of you thought, but was he really? “He’d be heartbroken to know you had little faith in him.”

At least he got you to chuckle, “I’d be heartbroken to know that I was right.”

You fell into an uncomfortable silence not long after, the stakes of the conversation too high, and if you continued talking you’re sure you’d end up giving Shin up for dead. But like this, maybe you could finally force yourself to get some sleep. The weight of your eyelids had doubled, eyes growing heavier against your will, and though you didn’t want to, just in case something happened while you were unconscious, you knew you’d be of no use without at least a few hours of rest. Plus, you promised yourself you’d never lose any sleep over a guy, ever, and you weren’t about to make an exception for Shinichiro Sano.

Not even an hour in your slumber, you almost threw your phone to the other side of the room as its desperate cry pierced your ears. You’re sure Wakasa almost had a heart attack with how fast straightened up next to you, and it wouldn’t be a surprise if it somehow managed to wake up both Kazutora and Keisuke, although your brother was more of a chronic heavy sleeper.

“What are you waiting for? Answer it!” Feelings heightened in his barely awake, panicked state, the desperation was palpable in his words. And though uncommon for him to act in such an erratic manner, he had bottled everything up the whole night, it was time for the stoic facade to break. 

But, even so, in spite of your friend’s heartbreaking desperation you didn’t move. Not after the third ring or the fourth. You didn’t dare move, staying frozen on the couch, groggy from waking up yet hyper-aware of everything going on around you despite your mild dissociation. The sole thought of moving towards made your brain press against your skull, screaming at you to stop. 

Not answering meant that Shinichiro could stay both simultaneously alive and dead, his fate linked to whether you picked up the call. If you didn’t, maybe he wouldn’t die after all, he’d stay stuck in the unknown limbo of immortality until you made a call. 

But then again, this was your only chance to get an update on his status. And it wasn’t only you anxiously waiting on any sort of news. Wakasa was waiting; Keisuke and Kazutora, although asleep, were as well, and you could only fathom Benkei and Takeomi’s reaction. Mikey and Emma were probably up to date, the hospital must’ve called their grandfather before they reached out to you. And looking back at the people that depended on you, it really wasn't fair to put your own self-indulgent selfishness over the needs of others, was it?

It wasn't. Of course it wasn’t, but after putting everyone before you for as long as you’ve lived, didn’t you deserve to be selfish? At least once, when it pertainted the condition of the unrequited love of your life, didn’t you deserve at least that much?

“Hello?” Wakasa answered through furrowed brows and twitching lips. From the way he spoke, you could tell he was biting on the inside of his cheek to release some tension, putting enough pressure to draw blood. “This is Wakasa Imaushi speaking,

“–can’t get to the phone right now, can’t you just talk to me?” Voice getting progressively louder, he challenged the person on the other side of the call. “He’s my best friend, don’t I deserve to know whether he’s alive or not?!”

Only when his voice broke at the weight of his own desperation did you manage to snap out of your trance, snatching the phone out of his grip, ignoring his glassy eyes as you spoke into the receiver, mumbling your name through a shakily put together voice.

You’re not sure whether you imagined it or not, almost choking on a withered sob, but you could feel the moment your teeth sunk into the skin of your hand, digging hard enough for blood to prickle to the surface, preventing any other noise from coming out. 

With your vision blurry and a tightness in your chest you could not describe, your body had gone completely numb, and yet your nerve endings were scorching under any semblance of atmospheric pressure, forcing you to feel everything, everywhere, all at once.

Had Wakasa not been there to catch you, you’d have collapsed on the ground, a pitiful wailing mess. Tears soaked through the fabric of both your clothes as you held each other close. For what felt like hours, the two of you stayed like that. Face buried against his neck and his against the top of your head, he rocked you back and forth in his arms until your tears stopped mixing themselves with your spit, sharp inhales tuning down into soft sniffles. And though his eyes burned with unshed sorrow, he kept on humming at your unintelligible mumbling.

“See? I told you he was stronger than we thought.” He whispered, though it sounded closer to a whimper, and nuzzled his cheek further against your hair. As if trying to ground himself, he gave you a tight squeeze, still in doubt whether he was trying to convince you or himself. 

Only after a while, once both of your breathing had evened out, did you raise your head up from its hideout, hesitant footsteps catching your attention.

“Nee-chan?” You heard a tiny voice coming from the hallway, a little insecure, as if he didn’t think he deserved a proper response. 

“I’m sorry ‘Tora, did we wake you?” You peeled Wakasa’s arms from your body, rubbing the haziness of your eyes away. He shook his head in response, carefully moving away from the shadows after acknowledging your lack of anger.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

His puffy eyes shimmered red under the soft moonlight coming through the living room window. He took meticulous steps in your direction, side-eyeing Wakasa and still wary of you, not knowing how you would react after his intrusion. Each one was lighter than the other, the wooden floors refused to creek underneath his weight, almost as if he had trained himself to become weightlessly invisible.

Slowly as to not startle him, you stretched your arms in his direction, beckoning him towards you and silently encouraging him to trust you. Even after drying out his tears once you tucked him in bed, holding his hand a little longer while Keisuke slept next to him, you’re sure that wasn’t enough to reassure him you wouldn’t blow up on him. For Kazutora, interacting with most people felt like trying to navigate an active minefield.

Hugging him close to your body, you pulled him on your lap and softly rocked him back and forth; the same way Wakasa had done with you. He nuzzled closer to you, letting himself relax against your touch once he registered you weren't a threat, basking in your warmth. 

The silence the three of you fell under was deafening, uncomfortable even, though you didn't intend for it to be. Kazutora had this question stuck in his throat, sitting heavy against his vocal cords while the bitter taste of bile stained his tongue.

“Is…” he trailed off, still doubting whether he deserved to be asking such a question. “Is Mikey’s brother going to be okay?”

He tensed up at the lack of immediate response. The lack of positive reassurance that he hadn’t completely messed up everyone's lives made the grip he had on your arm grow tighter in fear of you letting go. 

You didn’t. You weren’t planning to do so. Even if nausea piled up at the end of your oesophagus as the conflicting set of emotions brewing at the pit of your stomach, you were sure he needed you as much as you needed him to keep yourself grounded 

“He will.” You brushed your fingers through his hair, lips curled up into a smile once you felt him relax against you once again. “Right now he’s resting, we can visit him in a couple of days, if you’d like.” 

The silence amongst you became heavy once again, but inside Kazutora’s head the cacophony of your words bounced against the thick layers of bone and skin like worthless cries of distress. What he did was inconceivable, and in spite of that you still cared.

“I didn’t mean to,” barely a whisper, the words died out before they could be properly enunciated. They prickled and ached and stung at the walls of his throat. Something he couldn’t name but feel deeply inside his bones stopped himself from vomiting it all out. But mess after mess, like building blocks stacking one on top of the other, they piled up and pulled him down like a ball and chain made out of his own flesh and when he tried to pull at it to set himself free he could feel everything spilling out in a tangled cry. “I didn’t mean to hurt him, I’m sorry!” he cried, clutching onto your shirt and arms, anything he could get a hold of to ensure you wouldn’t leave him alone. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Holding him tightly and shushing his cries, you could do nothing more than let his tears wet at your shirt, mumble that it was okay even if it truly wasn’t; even if the two of you knew it was a lie. The weeping child in your arms did nothing but pull at your heartstring, conflicting feelings arising in your chest. In spite of the fondness you felt for the kid, the same fondness you felt for all of your little brother’s friends, you had unconsciously developed a grudge towards him, bitterness and resentment for hurting Shinichiro. 

His lashes rested against his skin, casting thin shadows under the sunlight streaming through the window. He had always looked peaceful when he was sleeping, chest rising and falling as if following a metronome’s tempo. You can remember taking long summer naps next to him and the rest of your friends, you always being the first one to wake up. Every summer the three of them arrived late to at least five Black Dragon’s meetings because they had slept in. Shinichiro had developed this antsy habit of arriving weirdly on time yet slightly late ever since then, he couldn’t tolerate the idea of letting down whoever was waiting for him; you wonder how he’d react if he knew the shop wouldn’t open today.

So peaceful yet fragile., never in your life would’ve you remotely imagined you’d be sitting next to your best friend’s hospital bed, eyes puffy and droopy while his head laid covered in bandages. The beeping of the monitor filling up the unnecessary silence that wouldn’t have otherwise been there had he been awake. 

Had he been awake, he would’ve talked to you non-stop, retelling everything that went down to the most insignificant detail, sprinkling hyperboles as much as he could just to appear a little cooler in front of you. But it's not like he had to try anyway, to appear cooler, that is, you already thought he was the coolest person in the whole wide world; though you’d go as far as saying he was the coolest person to ever exist. The sole idea made you smile, tears welling up in your eyes as you wondered if he’d blush once he found out how highly you thought of him. 

And of course, had he been awake, he would’ve been worried about everyone but him. He would’ve asked about Mikey and Emma, if they had slept over at the hospital or at home with his grandfather, who he would’ve proceeded to ask about. He would’ve bitten his tongue to prevent himself from even mentioning the economic implications of his stay, but you would’ve been able to read right through him.

Then, had he been awake, he would’ve asked about Keisuke and Kazutora. He would’ve be worried about them, berated you with a flurry of questions, emotions switching from anger to guilt in less than a millisecond; angry at your deplorable encounter with the police, guilty because he was the one that called, and maybe if he hadn’t, then Mikey’s friends wouldn't have gotten in trouble.

He would’ve asked about the shop, if anyone was there watching over it while he was resting in the hospital, deflating a little after finding out it wouldn’t open for the day. He would’ve asked about Wakasa and Benkei and Takeomi, ask if they were aware of what happened, if they had already started making fun of him after finding out a twelve year-old sent him straight to the ER; he would’ve sighed at your response, shaking his head because instead of making fun of him his friends were worried. 

Finally, he’d ask about you. And maybe you would’ve cried or laughed or screamed. Maybe tears would’ve pooled in your eyes, the fact your friend was breathing finally sinking in. Maybe you would’ve giggled at your past unjustified worries because he was here now and you never should’ve doubted him, not even for a second. Maybe you would’ve broken down, fatigue deep in your bones pulling you to the ground until you could do nothing but lay cold and empty and happy on the floor because you had not dared sleep but at least the existence of his consciousness remained.

But the only one speaking was the wind blowing through the curtains, kissing his forehead and messing up his hair just to give you the opportunity to put it back in place through the insecure brush of your fingers

Resting your forehead next to the palm of his hand, you sighed in defeat; maybe you should’ve let him rest alone. You had spent the whole morning next to him, ignoring any hunger cues alerting you it was time for breakfast or lunch or any sort of meal time that could fuel your body from complete exhaustion. Still, even if you wanted to fall asleep, it was like your subconscious wouldn’t let you. Every time you closed your eyes and felt yourself slip into a deep slumber, you were jolted awake to your own dismay. 

Not being able to rest had started to eat away at your own sanity. Only eight hours had passed, but every second felt like a thousand and at this point, you had become a walking contradiction; hungry but unable to eat, tired yet unable to fall asleep. Your body was failing you, unable to react to any sort of external or internal stimuli, and you’re sure wouldn't be able to cry no matter how much you wanted to do so.

But even then, apparently you could still scream.

The weight of his hand on top of your head caught you off guard. It almost made you fall from the chair and smack your head against the bed’s metal skeleton. Maybe if you got a concussion and slipped into a weird pseudo-coma after a harrowing God-knows-how-many-hours-long surgery he’d feel guilty enough to make up for the tachycardia that had your heart beating where your brain should be.

“Hi.” He smiled, words a little slurred as the remaining anaesthesia wore off.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Oh, I see ‘you missed me alright.”

And you did. Even though less than a day had passed since the accident, picturing a whole lifetime without him was enough to permanently alter your brain chemistry. But he was here now, he was back and he was safe and the toothy grin he sported reminded you of home.

“Don’t ‘cha know it’s rude to eat in front of someone who can only chew on ice chips?” He joked, flinching as the nurse adjusted his IV drip.

You were forced to leave the room after a flurry of hospital staff came running at your volatile reaction; Of course, you were quick to reassure that your friend had only woken up and that everything was fine, before leaving for the cafeteria; giving them some space to work on Shinichiro would be good. Plus, not that he was ‘okay’ and you weren’t worrying about his health every second of every minute of every hour, you could address the sudden pangs of hunger poking at your stomach. 

“I’ll buy you dinner once you get out.” You smiled, scooping some of the jell-o into your mouth through your innocent smile. But, again to your dismay, the mischievous glint in your eyes ratted you out. Shinichiro knew that ‘dinner’ meant the cheapest ramen you could find, maybe add an egg to spice it up, and ice cream you’d eat directly from the tub; a long lived tradition between the two of you. “I’ll even add chives this time.”

“Gee thanks,” he mocked, as if he’d rather do anything else than eat stale ramen with you. As long as he got the chance, he’d do anything. He’d probably lick the floor for you—not that he’d ever let you know, but if you asked he would, no questions asked. That’s what happens when you love someone. You’d be willing to do anything and everything for them even if it's irrational. “Can I choose the ice cream flavour at least?”

You hummed, focusing on scraping the plastic spoon against the plastic container in your hands to avoid his gaze. “Only this time though, so don’t get used to it.”

“Everything’s looking good so far, we’ll do another check up in a couple of hours.” 

Right, you were still in here. Talking like everything was seemingly normal made you forget that you were still in the hospital, watching over your post-op, bedridden friend. 

“Lay with me?” he asked, not before the both of you thanked the nurse who excused himself after gathering the remaining equipment. “Please?”

You shouldn’t, something inside your head made sure to let you know even if the urge to hold him close was overpowering. He had just barely woken up after a long emergency surgery, and you taking up space would be of no help for him to get the rest he needed. But the silent plea in the puppy dog eyes you had trained yourself so hard to resist, the subtle pout and the cute dopey-ness that had yet to wear off were far too tempting to resist. 

His little celebratory cheer made you inwardly squeal as you slowly moved to his side, watching him wince in pain while he slowly shuffled himself closer to the edge in a clumsy attempt to make some space for you.

The thumping of his heartbeat reverberated in his chest, the stress melting from out your bones. You couldn’t help but sigh in content once you laid your head on his chest. Now that you were wrapped in each other’s arms, it felt like you could finally rest.

“Tired?” He mumbled against your hair, breaking the silence that had settled in the room as you basked in each other’s presence. You hummed in response, nuzzling your cheek against his body and almost purring like a cat at his warmth. Letting your eyes close involuntarily, you couldn’t help but be lulled to a premature slumber. With how comfortable you looked, and because your obnoxious yawning was too contagious, he wanted to do nothing but follow in your footsteps. 

Instead, his eyes stayed wide open and stuck to the ceiling as if the off off-white paint that covered the concrete was the key to shutting down his brain long enough for sleep to take over. It didn’t matter that his blood had been infused with what felt like at least twenty hundred thousand milligrams of various pain-deafening substances that were sure to knock him out in a matter of seconds, falling asleep seemed to be an unattainable goal.

Whatever they had injected into his body increased his senses’ sensitivity, multiplying it times a hundred instead of dulling them down to nothing. And it didn’t stop at the uncomfortable overtly bright fluorescent lights or the suddenly deafening sound of unoiled wheels from hospital carts being rolled around. It was the way he could feel you barely resting your weight against his body, as if scared the least amount of pressure would make his heart stop. The way he was met with your now dull eyes, almost bloodshot but not quite, sunken with a thick coat of desperation, or fear, or some sort of premature grief, as soon as he woke up. Or how, in spite of only being gone for less than a day, it seemed like you had spent a lifetime unable to exist alongside everything you held dear.

Hyper aware of all those little details and more, it hit him without warning, and suddenly, he could feel the overwhelming urge to cry.

It prickled uncomfortably at his eyes, the skin around his charcoal orbs itching like it was on fire. His mouth felt cottony, smothering his airways and cutting his airflow while his tongue rested uncharacteristically heavy in his mouth with the weight of unsaid words. It broke all his bones at once, leaving him numb on the ground, still like a corpse, and unable to suppress the dooming feeling of his own life spilling from his pores, mixing with his blood until the air around him turned thick and metallic.

In the blink of an eye he had been one step closer to the grave, barely hanging onto a thread of consciousness as the view of his shop turned blurrier and blurrier, and now he was breathing. His lungs had finally regained consciousness and he could feel everything around him overwhelmingly loud and clear and close and real. 

Now awake, he could feel you laying on top of him, almost passed out due to the immeasurable amount of stress he had put you under. And maybe if it wasn’t for his reckless habit of parading around life with his guard lowered or for the lack of proper security measures at the shop—because who on earth would rob him? There’s no way he could be that unlucky. Impossible. Or maybe it was his inability to dodge, to hold his stance in a fight because even if he was strong, without proper technique he was rendered useless and, holy shit– he could’ve died.

He could’ve died and then Manjiro would’ve been forced to grow up way too soon because he would have to take care of Emma and grandpa—although knowing both his siblings, Emma was more likely to turn into the head of the house. And then his friends would’ve been left to grieve his death, make sad speeches about the best moments they had together and, fuck was Takeomi terrible at writing; his speech would just be a big mess of incoherent words stuck together. And what about the shop? Who was he leaving the shop to? And what about Inupi? Inupi was just a kid and he can’t just leave him all alone; he had promised to himself to take care of him the same way he took care of his siblings— fuck, Izana as well. Who was going to look after his brother? He was planning to introduce him to all of you guys soon. The two of you would’ve gotten along so well and,

And you. 

What about you?

You looked beyond heartbroken. Words couldn't begin to describe exactly what somberness mulled deep within that brain of yours. If this is how you reacted to the possibility of him dying, then how would’ve you reacted to him actually doing so?

A choked sob rips through his lips, the sound painful as it breaches its forceful containment.

“Shin–”

“I’m sorry.”

“What…” you trailed off. The strained cry had erased any speck of slumber. For a second you thought you had dreamt it, that your brain had finally gone off the rails and you were hearing imaginary voices. That was until you looked up at him, eyes welling up with unshed tears, body stiff as if to prevent them from falling. “What’re you sorry for?”

“I just remembered the beach trip we were planning for Manjiro’s birthday,” he sniffled, “and I think we’re gonna have to cancel.”

“That’s okay, we can reschedule—”

“Yeah but I– I know he was really excited for it, all his friends were.”

“We’ll talk to them, make sure they understand—”

“And you were excited about it too,” avoiding your eyes even after you had tried to coax him into meeting yours. He felt so far away, almost unreachable despite laying right next to you. “And I know how much you love the beach and I really wanted to go with you even if we were gonna have to chaperone six hyperactive children,

“And, and I know the guys were gonna come with and we had it all perfectly planned out with this huge dorayaki cake thing and now we’re gonna have to cancel because of me—”

“Wait,” you shush him as gently as possible, sitting up and holding his hand tightly between yours. “What do you mean ‘because of me’?”

Almost as if he had never started, your question managed to shut down his rambling like forcefully closing a water faucet. He had this estranged, far-off look darkening his face, eyes glassy, almost as if he were dissociating. It made your stomach churn with anxiety. Never in your many, many, years of friendship had you seen him lose himself like this.

“Because,” he paused, trying to swallow down the knot grappling at his throat, fighting off the urge to tear it off with his bare hands. “Because it's my fault we’re cancelling.”

“I– What’re you talking about?”

He groaned in desperation. Why was this so hard to explain? 

“I’m the one who’s bedridden.” Still dizzy after waking up and to the best of his ability, he tried sitting up, wincing in pain to then give up and lean into his forearms. “I’m the one with random needles poking through my skin, fresh off the ER because my skull was bashed into with one of my own tools and maybe, just maybe, if I had been more aware at the time, I could've avoided the hit.”

“Shin, this wasn’t your fault—”

“But it is! Can't you see?” 

“Shin–”

“D’you know what I did when I heard someone break the glass?” He looked at you expectantly, voice raised in frustration. “After I called the cops; do you?” You shook your head in response, knowing that any attempt to help him calm down would be futile. “I grabbed a wrench. 

“After the operator told me to hide and wait for help because I told them it sounded like more than one person was inside, I grabbed a stupid wrench and decided to face them,

“I decided to face them even if I'm well aware I wouldn’t be able to take two people at once.”

And though he seemed to be dead set on believing that somehow he managed to land himself in the hospital,  you wouldn’t allow him to give himself up to the restless thoughts, no matter how badly he wanted to indulge the bitter part of his brain that had gotten used to putting himself down. 

“Someone hit you from behind,” you tried, “you were ambushed, of course you wouldn't be able to take them on.”

His defeated sigh gave you some sort of uncomfortable comfort. Knowing it made you glad that he had finally given up was a conflicting feeling you wish to never re-examine or experience again.

You sat up, swallowing the foreign relief down, and scooted further up the bed’s backrest. Your elbow rested well above the pillow where he laid, and you couldn't help but use your leverage to gently brush your fingers through his hair, only relaxing once he visibly melted against your touch.

“You didn’t do this to yourself, this wasn’t your fault.” You whispered, fingertips soothing his worries as they ghosted the skin of his forehead. “You’re not responsible for every single thing that goes wrong, no matter how much you try to convince yourself you are.”

He can’t recall a single moment in his life in which he felt like he was relieved from his self-imposed duty—the duty of an older brother, primary caretaker, and practically a parent. Someone who must put everyone’s needs above his own well-being. He’s responsible for everything going on around him, the good, the bad, the neutral, the everything. It only made sense that the break in and the subsequent series of events were, in part, his responsibility. 

And he knew it was irrational thinking because how on earth would he have known what was going to happen? But he couldn’t help it, not when all the consequences of his actions reflected on the bigger picture; everyone relies on Shinichiro Sano, and it was his duty to fulfil. 

“And I promise you no one is disappointed in you. Not a single one of us.” You press your lips against the top of his head, smiling through your own teary eyes at the little hum he involuntarily let out. “We’re all so, so happy that you're awake and talking and I bet Manjiro would rather move his beach birthday party a hundred years from now than lose his brother six days before his birthday,

“The beach is not going anywhere, and neither are we, okay? We are not going anywhere.” 

And you knew it wasn’t not enough. Your words weren’t enough to shut up the swirling negativity spiral in his brain. But at least it was enough to calm him down, enough for him to fall asleep in spite of the dampness kissing his skin; he might have successfully managed to suppress the heart wrenching sobs, but he was not strong enough to hold back the tears that cascaded down his cheeks.

You follow through not long after, head lolling to the side in an uncomfortable position that would for sure leave your neck aching for days. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. There was no dreaming this time. No nightmares or worst case scenarios crafted deep within your subconscious. In spite of the gloomy circumstances, the two of you had fallen asleep. Finally, being in your arms was beyond comforting. Plus, indulging in the rest your body had craved for hours made it easier to regain consciousness once Manjiro decided to jump on the two of you in surprise, never minding the possibility of further injuring his brother by mistake.

Being on the receiving end of his lovable violence hurt more than you thought it would, one of his hands landing straight on your stomach and the other on Shinichiro’s chest, but you couldn’t blame the kid. Based on what Keisuke had confided in you last night, Manjiro had witnessed both his best friends’ arrest as well as his brother being pulled out unconscious on a stretcher out of the shop.

Beyond a muffled apology, he didn’t utter anything else, like his voice had given in. He clung onto Shinichiro’s body like his life depended on it. 

A swift knock on the door caught your attention, though Manjiro didn't even bother looking up, face tucked against his brother’s body, letting himself relax as his brother’s fingers threaded through his blond locks. 

Emma poked her head from behind the wall, hands holding onto the door frame for balance. From where you laid you could see how her eyes were almost as puffy as yours. They were rimmed with a bright red, the same shade that was splotched all over her cheeks and nose. Mansaku stood beside her, holding onto his hat.

You could physically feel the relief washing over Shinichiro the moment he saw his whole family entering the room. He laid lighter next to you, with a brighter smile decorating his lips. It was like his body had melted from hard concrete right into a puddle, your previous conversation seemingly forgotten as a twinkle of warmth returned to his pretty eyes.

Careful not to let Manjiro fall in the dent you were leaving as you stood up, you beckoned Emma over. She cuddled up to Shinichiro, clinging onto him while her soft sniffles filled the silent room, and you swore you had almost started tearing up again at the sight.

Mansaku placed a hand on your shoulder, making you flinch in surprise as he acknowledged your presence. Like a wordless thank you, he nodded at you before stepping closer towards the bed, letting his hand rest on Shinichiro’s, and gently squeezed as if making sure his grandson was truly there. 

In no way shape or form was it the perfect family meetup—a perfect one wouldn’t entail the eldest-grandson-slash-parental-figure stuck in a hospital bed. But by the way they huddled together, Shinichiro pinching Manjiro’s cheeks, the latter not even fighting him off like he usually would, and patting Emma’s head in reassurance, with Mansaku displaying the ghost of a smile as he stood next to his grandchildren, the four of them gave off the feeling of everything being okay.

The familiar warmth between them left you to watch the scene like an outsider in a third-person point of view. It made you feel like you were intruding, messily glued to one of those fancy family portraits. 

In spite of both your families spending the majority of their lives around one another, you weren’t a Sano. No matter how close Keisuke and Manjiro were, no matter how much Shinichiro and you acted like a married couple with at least five children, you were never going to be one. You knew this from the start, but even so, the knowledge didn’t stop the churning of a deeply seeded loneliness inside your stomach. 

You didn’t bother with your goodbyes. Even if you had promised Shinichiro you’d spend the rest of the day together—pretending to be bothered and reluctant when you sealed it with a ‘pinky promise’ to hide the fact you’d willingly play nurse whenever he needed it—something from within told you it was your time to leave, you weren’t that important after all.

The question swirled inside your skull, bitter as it scratched your bones, as you leaned against the walls outside the hospital. At first, you intended to camp out in a waiting room, maybe join them after you had finally calmed down, but instead your legs had taken you right outside, landing you in a secluded area between the building and the many trees surrounding it so you could confidently retrieve the crushed package from your back pocket without disturbing anyone

Your thumb burned as you attempted to roll the sparkwheel of your zippo lighter, the metal forming uncomfortable crevices against your skin. You had to hold back the urge to bite down on the cigarette you had clumsily stuck between your teeth instead of your lips, frustration welling up and threatening to burst from the seams that clumsily held you together. 

Waiting for the uncomfortable itch to burn at your throat, you traced the outline of the red koi fish at the corner of the lighter, eroded after thumbing at it like a nervous tick over the years. Every time you felt your eyes water you made sure to compulsively take another drag, as if the smoke could cloud your thoughts, mixing them up with the familiar nostalgia.

Anyone would think that after incinerating your taste buds with each stick you burn, you’d get used to the taste. Whoever said it gets easier the more you do it was a liar. They were as disgusting as ever, flavour the exact same as those you had tried when you were younger, fooling around with your friends. It first started when Shinichiro and Takeomi brought a couple of cigarettes they had stolen from his grandfather to one of your hang outs. It prompted the three of you to continuously choke and make fun of each other for doing so until there were only mustard coloured butts squished on the floor. 

Neither Takeomi nor you had really enjoyed the experience, but for some reason, Shinichiro was quick to grow fond of the taste. He made sure to carry around a twelve-pack wherever he went, lighting up cigarette after cigarette in strategic places so the smell wouldn’t stick to his hair or clothes. Not soon after, the rather unhealthy habit had extended to the remaining two of you, who couldn’t help but carry your own packs to satisfy your newly birthed cravings. 

Looking back, you’re sure younger-you did that to be a little more like Shinichiro, just like Takeomi, and for other even more childish reasons like appearing more mature and attractive in his eyes; you clearly remember him having a thing for older women for a while. Sure, the two of you were the same age but still, you felt like he didn’t see you like you wanted him to, and the only way for you to change that would be to gain some more common ground with him right? 

So yeah, just like Takeomi, you wanted to be more like Shinchiro, but unlike Takeomi—as far as you know—you had started buying cigarette packets mainly to share back and forth with your best friend in, what you would call, a weak attempt at flirting. 

At least the cringe memory managed to rip you out from the insecurity whirlpool you were being sucked into, making you groan while softly hitting your head against the concrete wall. Thank god Wakasa existed to berate you into stopping the unhealthily embarrassing habit. Back then you were just a kid, but were you being for real? Were you seriously intending to build your whole life around a man to the point you’d indulge in one of the most common and deadliest habits in the world for a slim chance at a high-school romance? Fuck, was younger-you so painfully stupid to even think–

“One of you is already in the hospital, we don't need you to auto-hospitalise.”

The old man’s voice made you jump, fumbling with the cigarette until it fell to the floor. You tried to hide the coughing fit to the best of your ability while frantically stomping on the lit stick laying on the ground. It didn’t matter that you were an adult, you were still terrified of getting caught smoking by the man.

“Would you mind sharing one with me?” He asked, ignoring the way your face morphed into a confused frown. With nimble fingers, you opened your cigarette pack once again, handing him your lighter when he was unable to fetch his from his pockets.

“You still smoke?” You questioned, adding a hasty ‘sir’ once you noticed how informal you had sounded. 

He chuckled in response, taking another puff. “I only stopped doing it in front of the children.”

This time it was your turn to chuckle, playing with the gravel underneath your feet to avoid looking at the man at your slip-up. Still, even with your gaze fixated on the ground you could tell he was looking at you in curiosity. 

“I didn’t mean to laugh it’s just,” clearing your throat, you stumbled with your words, debating in your head whether you should come up with one of your horrid cover ups or tell the truth. “You always smoked around us when we were little, like you didn’t care.”

You thought he would’ve left you alone after that, knowing you were purposely disrespectful towards him. It would’ve been better that way. Then you would’ve been left to wallow in your own self-pity in peace, with no one to stop you from finishing the seven remaining cigarettes. But he didn’t, taking you aback as he stayed rooted right by your side. 

Had you been anyone else, he would’ve called them out. To cover up his own embarrassment or to make up for the disrespect? Not even he could be sure. But he had seen you grow up next to his own grandchildren, sharing your love and caring nature with them along with your mild irascibility and your talent for keeping Shinichiro on a tight leash. He couldn’t help but grow fond of you, even if most of your one-on-one interactions had consisted of you running away from him before he managed to scold you. 

He had only stopped smoking once Manjiro was born, self-awareness finally sinking into his thick skull as he watched his two grandsons play together. No one had questioned him back then, letting him sit on the couch undisturbed while he read the morning paper. It was only after Sakurako had passed away, that he had started to notice the many areas he was lacking, watching both Shinichiro and you fill the gaps in each other’s broken homes while he alienated himself from the responsibility of taking care of his family. The two of you worked so in sync, he would be of no help—or at least that was what he had told himself.

“I wasn’t the best grandfather.”

“You think?”

“I know.” He smiled at your attitude; snappy as always, the only difference was the way you now recoiled in embarrassment at your slip ups. Using his fingers to get rid of the ash, he tapped on the back of the cigarette before taking another drag. “Thank you for taking care of them when I couldn’t.”

Not even a noise of acknowledgement, your vocal chords had closed themselves shut at the man’s sudden mild vulnerability. Out of all the things you expected him to ever say to you, a ‘thank you’ was never on the list. He was always sporting his characteristic cartoonish frown, speaking to everyone in a clipped tone with pointed words.

“You’re more important to us than you think.” He stepped on the cigarette butt. “That is one of the reasons why I can’t let you believe what happened to my grandson was in any way your fault.”

“‘Sorry?” You mumbled in confusion, his words pulling yet another frown onto your face; did you miss any pivotal points in the conversation? How had the conversation switched from his apparent familial issues to you? 

“I know you feel guilty for what happened, even if you weren’t involved.” He sighed, not bothering to look you in the eye before continuing his speech. “You’re not responsible for your brother’s doing.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed in mild amusement, as if that wasn’t something you’ve been trying to tell yourself; all Bajis share their fuckups. But then again, of course he wouldn’t understand. “Easier said than done.”

This time you didn’t try to make up for the way had snapped at him. And bless the man for being able to read the room, because he didn’t push the conversation further. Deep down he knew you needed the outlet; you may have already cried, but all your anger was still pent up inside of you. And after everything you had done for him and his family, it was the least he could do for you. 

“It doesn’t matter what we believe, we’re always responsible for everyone’s mess.” You scoff in dismay. “It’s like we were born for our families to have a provisional caretaker. 

“So thank you for trying to tell me I didn’t break into Shinchiro’s shop, I know I didn’t, but it's still my mess to fix.” The aftertaste of the words laid heavy in your mouth, trickling down your throat like bitter bile tearing through the tissue. You didn’t like how they sounded; they were too impersonal, too selfish. You took a deep breath, holding yourself upright in spite of the pang in your chest. “Not that i wouldn’t have taken care of Shin if someone else had been responsible for what happened, I lo– I– I care too much about him to just leave him be but its just—”

You cleared your throat, “If I had made sure I knew where Keisuke was going or, or if I had actually tried to listen to him when he told me he didn’t know what to give Manjiro for his birthday then maybe– just…” 

You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence without breaking down the walls of the dam you thought you had finally managed to piece back together. You didn’t want the responsibility of rebuilding them back up, you don’t think you’d be able to do it as quickly as you’d want to. But you weren’t venting your sorrows to the wind. Mansaku Sano was still standing next to you, hands locked behind his back as he waited for you to continue, and though he was well aware of the times in which he had to remain quiet, he also knew when it was time to speak up. 

“Then what?”

“Then,” you swallow, “then none of this would’ve happened, and he would’ve been okay.”

Your body itched for another cigarette, pawing at your skull for you to smother down the tears spouting from your eyes, even if the smoke would make your eyes teary once again. But with Mansaku Sano standing next to you, you didn’t dare touch a single one; it didn’t matter that you had just finished spilling your pent up emotions, you drew the line at smoking with Shinichiro’s grandfather. The thought sprouted a melancholic smile on your lips; Shinichiro would have a field day when he finds out what just went down.

The only thing left you had to ground yourself was the cold metal of your lighter, already starting to heat up at the warmth of your skin. You ran your thumb over it once again, the pattern already engraved in your mind. The habit had probably developed out of your need to be comforted by familiarity—of course the lighter was the right candidate, from its colour and texture, size and temperature, you had everything about it memorised like the back of your hand. 

“It’s a really nice lighter.” You hadn't realised you were playing with it until he spoke up; twirling it between your fingers over and over again, flipping it open and close, lighting it up before shutting the lid and extinguishing the flame. 

“Thanks,” you sniffled, and right after you finished speaking, your voice hoarse and tired, you regretted ever doing so. You felt like a child once again; like when your mom tried to comfort you after you had scraped your knee, or when a couple of older middle-schoolers had beaten your friends up. A child like when the day was finally over and you had to go back home from a play-date, or when your favourite toy had fallen inside the river while walking over a bridge. You regretted speaking the minute you had discovered your voice sounded as weak as you felt, and yet, at the mention of your beloved trinket, you felt the warm giddiness wash over your body forcing you to speak. And so, once again like a child, you did. “I got it at a summer festival, Shin got it for me.”

“I thought you said you wanted to come visit him.”

For a minute Keisuke didn’t speak. He looked straight at the ground, feet planted on the floors like roots had grown out of him as he held your hand.

Earlier this morning he had clung onto your waist while angry tears rolled down his cheeks. The moment he caught sight of you putting your shoes on the genkan he had broken into a run, letting his body smash against yours, and almost making you lose your balance. Both you and your mom had tried your hardest to calm him down for what felt like hours but to no avail. He persisted, begging for you to let him accompany you to the hospital. 

Outside of Shinichiro’s room, it was a whole other story. All of a sudden he had decided he didn’t want to see him eye to eye. His reaction made you internally groan in frustration. Had you listened to your own gut feeling telling you Keisuke wasn’t ready to come with you, it would’ve saved him the stress of making a choice for himself. Instead, you were too weak to his puppy dog eyes and wobbly pleas, and now his eyes had started to water as he tried to hold back his own hiccups. 

“I promise Shin-nii isn’t angry at you,” you cooed, kneeling down to the floor and looking up at him. When had he gotten this tall? When had he grown this much? Were your efforts enough to shape him into a decent person? “and if you truly don't feel comfortable we can go home, I promise I won’t get angry.”

He rubbed at his teary eyes with his free hand before nodding at you, trailing behind you as you stood up and knocked on the door.

“Hey!” you poked your head into the room with a smile, one that faltered as you tried to keep your mouth from falling open in awe once you noticed how the sunlight streaming from the window kissed every inch of Shinichiro’s skin as he quietly read the book you had given him as a joke. He looked up at you, pearly whites all up for display, and mumbled a soft mumbled a soft ‘hey’ right back at you; he looked so pretty he could be mistaken for an angel. “I brought Keisuke with me, ‘that okay?”

He hummed in response, marking the page he was reading before setting it aside. Even after the events that took place at the shop, you knew he wouldn’t mind your brother visiting—he had a soft spot for him after all. The verbal confirmation was more for Keisuke’s sake, who prompted by it, let go of your hand and walked into the room, a tinge of fear staining each step he took. 

Shinichiro grinned, gently waving his way. And though the both of you had always found some sense of comfort in the warmth of his smile, it took less than a second for Keisuke to burst into tears. Sobs wracked his body as he stood frozen in the middle of the room, frantically drying out his cheeks with his forearms in vain. Tears kept pouring from his caramel eyes down to his cheeks until they stained his striped shirt.

At the sight of his distress, Shinichiro tried standing up as quickly as possible, almost ripping off his tangled IV. Thankfully, you managed to stop him before he could; the moment your brother had started crying you were already by his side wrapping your arms around his fragile figure.

Much like you had done the past few days, you combed his hair with your fingers while shushing his cries. It had become almost like a habit, Keisuke running to you in the middle of the day, hugging you close while you dried his tears for him. You’d think he’d ran out of tears by now, but something you didn’t take into account was how similar the two of you were, always feeling everything too much, all at once.

“You’re okay,” you whispered into his hair, “you’re okay, and Shin-nii’s okay, see?” you asked him, holding his tear streaked cheeks and motioning his face to meet your gaze, waiting for his breathing to even out before you coaxed him into looking at Shinichiro. “We’ve got you, the two of us, we've got you.”

He smiled at him once again, though you could see a twinkle of sadness in his eyes, as extended one of his hands for him to take. Warily, he warmed up to the invitation, wiping the remaining tears from his face before dragging his feet to the edge of the bed, asking if he could sit with him in a very un-Keisuke nature; it was unusual for him to ask before acting on his impulses.

Shinichiro softened once he felt Keisuke nuzzling his cheek against his chest. He ran his fingers through his dark locks, and as he did so you couldn’t help but think how his hair kept getting longer and longer with each day; hopefully no one from the school office would call you letting you know it was time to chop it off once classes were back in session.

In between hushed whispers, they talked amongst each other for a while. At first, Baji kept giving one word responses, still insecure in spite of your reassurance, but it wasn’t long before he started to loosen up, giggling between sniffles at Shinichiro’s questions and mocking his ‘honorary-brother’ back with teary jabs.

It was a solid dynamic they had been able to build after years of trust and consistent interaction; your two favourite boys extending their love to each other like they were flesh and blood. In that way, the two of them were similar, fiercely loyal and willing to give themselves up for those they loved. You were grateful that Shinichiro was there for Keisuke as he grew up, unknowingly making up for everything you lacked.

The mumble of your name caught your attention, popping your nostalgia blown bubble. Keisuke and Shinichiro alike were beckoning you over, the latter extending his arm as the two of them scooted over and patted the free space next to him.

He held your hand like you were a princess stepping onto a carriage, gingerly helping you keep your balance as you toed-off your shoes. You let out a sigh once you plopped yourself on the bed, letting his arm curl around your shoulders while he kept your hands interlocked, rubbing the skin with his thumb. In spite of the giddiness warming your stomach, you forced yourself to roll your eyes in response when he teasingly asked if you were comfortable, pretending to be bothered by his apparent clinginess 

“‘Your sister made you try the jell-o cups already?” he asked Keisuke, the younger boy looking up at him through puffy eyes and wet lashes, and once he shook his head in response he whistled, turning towards you as if disappointed. “You haven’t made him try ‘em yet?” 

“‘Came straight to see you.” You brushed off, pretending you didn’t feel his body tense beside you and smiling to yourself in subtle victory when he gulped.

“You should’ve gone to the cafeteria first.” He scolded jokingly, clicking his tongue as if that would help him hide his blushing cheeks that hurt from his own shy affection. Soon after, he switched his attention to your brother, ruffling his hair before speaking, “Remember those jell-o cups you used to share with Manjiro and Haruchiyo? The ones they sold at the konbini?”

“Yeah, but they don't have ‘em anymore,” Keisuke pouted, brows furrowed in thought. His sharp canines poked at his bottom lip, tilting his head up at Shinichiro and grinning. “Mikey almost fought the cashier guy when we found out they stopped selling them!”

“Yeah, I remembered that.” He chuckled, recalling the time he had heard the employee complain about Manjiro’s sudden aggression on one of his morning milk runs. “But guess what?” he sat on his forearms, dragging out the silence to build anticipation. He waited for the two of you to raise your heads from his chest, sharing an evident impatience as you urged him to continue. He took a deep breath before grinning once again. “They still sell ‘em over here.”

“No way! Really?!” The boy stood up in less than a second, forcing you to grab onto the neck of his t-shirt to prevent him from falling flat on his ass while he cried in glee, tears seemingly forgotten. Those jell-o cups in particular had been a staple of everyone’s childhood; you had been eating those snacks for years and years. You can clearly remember the clear disappointment in his face when he told you they had been discontinued, his somberness rubbing off on you.

“Yeah!” Shinichiro exclaimed back, scooting closer to your brother and placing one of his hands on the bed railing behind your brother, aiding you in your task of preventing Keisuke from falling to the ground. The memory had suddenly made its wake into his consciousness after mulling over ways to comfort your brother and coming up empty handed, until he had suddenly turned to his bedside table where an empty plastic cup sat with a flimsy disposable spoon. “Manjiro and Emma got a bunch from the cafeteria to take home, you could do the same.”

You were almost taken aback by the speed he used to turn his face towards you, surprised he didn’t give himself whiplash before he asked you with as much excitement he could muster, “Can we?! Please, please!?”

His pleading words made his bronze eyes sparkle under the fluorescent lights and though you know you shouldn’t, you can’t find it in yourself to say no. You smiled and nodded without a shadow of a doubt that you’d do anything in your power to keep the toothy grin you missed on his lips.

“Does that mean I can go get one now?” He pleaded, tilting his head and yet again putting on display the best puppy-dog eyes he could muster. “Please? I haven't had one in years, I wanna know if they’re the same as I remember.”

“Knock yourself out.” Shinichiro said before you could respond, ruffling Keisuke’s hair before the latter jumped down, ignoring the fact you didn’t give him a proper response before running off to the cafeteria.

You sighed unimpressed, turning towards the man beside you and letting yourself slump against his figure. His chuckle only made you roll your eyes.

“What? Were you planning to say no to him?” 

He knew you too well for your own good.

“Shut up.” With a gentle push you force him back down on the bed, elbowing him lightly in the process and pressing your head back against his chest. You almost hum in satisfaction when he let himself fall back down without resistance, caving in under your touch. “I could’ve said no.”

“Yeah, right.” This time, he was the one rolling his eyes, mocking your mannerisms and chuckling when you smiled, hoping the apparent ‘nonchalance’ would mask his now increased heart rate, and the faster beating coming from the vital sign monitor.

“I could’ve!” You tried to sit up in retaliation, pretending to be annoyed, yet you didn’t resist when he pulled you back down. He held down his own giggling once he felt you cuddling up closer to his side, tracing random patterns on his dotted hospital gown and realising too late how close both your hands were. The proximity made you nervous; even if the two of you were practically laying one on top of the other, holding hands felt like a foreign act of intimacy. 

Subtly enough, you tried reaching out for the tip of his fingers, moving what seemed like less than a millimetre per minute. Soon enough, he took notice of your plan; hesitantly, he moved his own towards you, letting your fingertips rest against each other for a couple of seconds, like he was asking for your permission, before interlocking his fingers with yours.

“You really can’t stay away from me, can you?” he teased, gaze focused on your entwined hands through his lashes as he felt too shy to look anywhere near your face. It seemed that hiding the pink-ish blush staining his cheek had become his number one priority; you were so close, so everywhere, he wouldn’t want it any other way, even if the closest he’d get to you would be through friendly teasing, bordering the line of ‘definitely, a 100% and unmistakably platonic’ flirting. 

In your mind, you were desperately scavenging for any semblance of a comeback, preferably witty and with the same energy he was giving you.Instead, all you did was sigh.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

You blamed the gusty confession on a moment of weakness, likely born out of your depleting energy mixed with the way his hand fit against yours like two perfectly carved puzzle pieces. You weren’t sure why you had said what you did, the way you did; voice softening as the longing you had suppressed your whole life coated every syllable that rolled down your tongue. 

He hummed in response, giddy and satisfied, before backtracking in confusion. The lack of sarcasm or annoyance lighthearted mockery caught the two of you off-guard, though it seemed to have a bigger impact on him as his body tensed up for a moment. If you were to look up at him, you’d probably see his head tilted to the side, with warm cheeks and the ghost of a frown clouding his features.

And that’s exactly why you don’t. 

Not like this; you wouldn't allow yourself to do so, wouldn’t even dare. Not when the stakes were this high, multiple worst outcomes served on a silver platter for you to choose because once you look up at him he would notice the way you see him, like he hung up each individual constellation up in the sky on his own and then all of it would be over for you.

For the both of you. 

“Do you, uh,” the slight shake in his voice made you gulp, like you had an inkling of a very possible question he could ask. Maybe this would finally be the end of your friendship which, to your own dismay, could be very easily broken by other things that weren’t death itself, “do you know if Keisuke has talked to Manjiro yet?”

You cleared your throat, holding back the sigh of relief, and shook your head. “I don’t think he knows how.”

“He’s scared?” 

“I think so,” you pondered, “they’ve been friends since forever, I think he’s scared of losing…him.”

Knowing that both you and your brother’s situation overlapped in so many ways felt weird; both Baji siblings were scared to lose their respective Sano brothers. It sounded funny, almost cute, like both Bajis and Sanos were meant to stick together generation after generation. You would’ve giggled at the thought, explain the parallels between the two relationships to Shinichiro and laugh at the silliness of it, yet the fear that had taken possession of your body the last couple of days lingered at the thought. 

Scared of losing him.

You almost choked on the words sitting heavy in your mouth, like you had confessed to a crime. Had you been alone, maybe they would’ve urged you to cry.

“Hey, ‘you okay?” You hadn’t realised that the worry had bled onto your face, dripping down your cheeks and coating your eyelashes with sorrow until he spoke up, tearing you away from your trance. But you couldn’t help it, the lingering torture you endured at the hands of your brain replaying past events, from the bailing your brother out of jail as he sobbed to having Wakasa answer the call for you, Kazutora crying in your arms and Shinichiro blaming himself for his own accident, the more you felt like losing yourself in his embrace, tightening your hold on his hand. “You left me there for a second I thought–”

“No.”

“What?”

“No, I’m–” you stuttered, “I don’t think I’m okay, I–”

Rejection after rejection, you’ve seen what felt like an infinite amount of his confessions go sideways, and yet he handled each and every one of them with grace. You’d attribute his resilience to the amount of first hand experience he’s had with it, and though at first it had taken a big toll on him. By now, rejection was nothing to him. He could make a fool of himself in front of anyone and he really wouldn’t care; he has told you so himself. 

But you were not Shinichiro, and you could never be him.

You were resentful and impulsive, oftentimes reacting way before you think. You were impatient and whiny, though you tried your best to suppress that particular trait to no avail. You were a selfish, self-destructive being that somehow managed to keep the insecure neediness brewing inside on the down low. 

And you could go on. You could go on because you were stubborn, volatile, melodramatic and a part of your brain really does think you were just setting yourself up for failure listing every single negative character trait that comes to mind. But it didn’t matter because that just further proves you're not Shinichiro Sano, that you were never going to be Shinichiro Sano because you were weak.

Too weak to answer the call, too weak not to try and escape uncomfortable situations, too weak to hold back the urge for a smoke, too weak to forgive Kazutora, too weak to confess your feelings for your best friend even after bawling your eyes out at the thought of a life without him.

Too weak, too weak, too weak. 

Being weak is all you’ve ever known. 

The thoughts poured and they wouldn’t stop, crashing against each other like the same bumper carts you rode along with Shinichiro at the funfair with your siblings. Back then, you were all smiles and laughter, and right now you wondered if the two of you would’ve held hands if it wasn’t for Emma sitting in the middle of you both.

And he was so warm next to you, not pressuring you to clarify whatever word-vomit you just spewed instead of a proper comeback. So sweet as he squeezed your hand to let you know he was there to help in whichever way he could to lull your worries to sleep. So kind as he took care of you when you should be the one taking care of him. Always so him.

You had no right to be a coward, at least not in front of one of the strongest and bravest people you’ve ever met. It wasn’t fair. Listing your flaws from the top of your head would never justify your body preventing itself from spilling the truth just so you could try and grasp at the fragile strings of self-pity to sew yourself back together as unspoken words necrotize your tongue. 

The same way you wouldn’t dare look at him, you wouldn’t dare stay away from him. It’d kill you just to try. So fuck every martyrish thought in your head, fuck the burned cigarette butts stained with indirect kisses, fuck the many nights the two of you spent stargazing in his garden, the infinite amount of chocolates you bought him for valentine’s day to make up for the emptiness of his locker; and the countless times he had dropped everything he was doing for the chance to spend just a couple of minutes with you. Fuck the worn out red koi fish engraved on your lighter and the possibility of breaking the promise you two made of never straying away from each other.

“I can’t stay away from you,” you took a deep breath, “I think I’d rather die than live a life without you,

“The sole idea of losing you almost sent me over the edge, and even after you were out of surgery I was a mess,” you stopped yourself again, giving yourself the chance to swallow down the knot in your throat; it didn’t work. “I was going insane without being able to talk your ear off because even when I talk about something you couldn’t give a shit about you still give a shit, you give so many shits when it comes to me, too many,

“You’re loyal and gentle and charming and you’re always smiling, and it's like, it's like you're absolutely everything good and even then you genuinely have no idea how wrapped around your finger I truly am, 

“And I don't think I’ve ever properly thanked you for existing because I don't think I’d be the same person I am right now if it wasn't for you, and even if I'm not perfect, I- I wouldn't trade myself for a better version if that meant you wouldn’t be in my life.

“So, yeah, I guess you’re right, I don’t think I can,” you let your shoulders sag, like the confession finally burned years upon years of cover-ups and excuses and fake scenarios you had come up with before bed stored in the darkest depth of your brain. “Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to stay away from you.”

Pensive, he melted further against the pillows, letting his muscles melt at the sound of his own sighing. Even if you weren’t directly looking at him, you hear his smile reverberating throughout his body, and the sole idea of him possibly reciprocating your feelings made you impossibly giddy; a little too giddy. It was easy, after all, to get your hopes up once you lose yourself in him, his warmth and comfort. And for less than a second, you can see your hypothetical future with him pass right in front of your eyes, forcing you to accept a premature victory. But as the silence between the two of you started to drag itself out, you couldn't help but reluctantly welcome the acrid heartbreak tearing through your skin.

“I’m sorry,” you tensed up, “I shouldn’t have–”

“No, no, it's–,” he blurted out tongue tied as if your words had snapped him out of a trance, mirroring the same giddiness you had displayed with the same hint of hesitancy, “no one has talked about me like that, I guess it just caught me off-guard.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I don’t– don’t think I'd be able to stay away from you either– not that I want to, of course it's just– sorry give me a minute.” Looking off to the side, he tried to collect himself, clearing his throat and pinching his cheeks, the skin already stained with all sorts of shades of pink. For him, it was inevitable not to become all shy and flustered, the least he could do was bite his tongue so as not to break into a fit of giggles, prevent himself from swinging his legs and twirling his short strands of hair like a lovesick middle schooler. All because of you. “Just, um, just to be clear before I look like an absolute fool, not that I don't look like an absolute fool on a daily basis, but this is a confession, right?” 

You raised your head up in confusion, tilting your head and furrowing your brows. Had you not been so baffled by his self-explanatory question you would’ve fawned over this version of him, giddy and soft and in love with you because just by looking at his eyes you could tell he was looking at you like you hung the moon up in the sky—it was easy to decipher; after staring at him the exact same way countless times, you were bound to familiarise yourself with such display of devotion. And had he not looked this adorable, you would’ve teased him for being so painfully and hopelessly dense, but you didn’t have it in you to do so, only managing to nod in response.

“So you like like me?” He continued, waiting for your reassurance, either a nod or a smile, or any signal that he was right. “So you are in love with me?”

“I mean, I wouldn't say I'm in love but if that's what makes you sleep at night.” The more you stared at his face, the dimples on his cheeks, the creasing of his eyes at your words and the giggle he couldn’t help but contain, the wider the smile creeping at his lips became.

“Will you say it then?” He prodded, moving closer to you, now unable to hide the twinge of pink that grew what seemed like a thousand shades per second.

“I don’t know,” your legs innocently dangled from the side of the bed, trying to win back control of the situation by cutting down on your proximity, and sitting up properly from your half-lying position, “will I?”

“Please?” he begged, cupping one of your cheeks with the palm of his hand and pulling you closer until you could feel each other's breaths. His skin was warm against yours, the roughness of his palm from working non-stop at the shop offset by the tenderness he carried around for you. 

And though you wanted to drag this on, enjoying the back and forth, you were so whipped for this man that you couldn’t stop your nonchalant act from crumbling as soon as you heard him once again let out a shy giggle after he nudged your nose with his.

“I love you.” 

Voice dreamy and saccharine sweet, like confessing to your lifelong desire, you whispered, and just before your lips touched, through lidded eyes and uneven breath he whispered back ‘and I love you’. 

After his own confession, you were unable to pay attention to anything that wasn’t him. All your senses were muted as his soft lips gilded against yours. The taste of the honey chapstick you applied almost compulsively melted against his tongue, and he wondered if like him, you could still faintly taste the strawberry chapstick you had gifted him a while ago; the same one he hadn’t stopped using since, going as far as asking the hospital staff to retrieve it from the pockets of the jeans he was wearing the day of the accident for him.

He bit back a whimper when he felt you bite down gently on his bottom lip, unable to ignore the way you smirk against the kiss once your hand makes its way up to the side of his neck to rest on his pulse point, in the perfect position to feel his heart doing somersaults underneath your touch. It made him want to melt right against you; the more you wandered down his body, the bigger the urge to hold you grew.

His calloused yet delicate fingers traced your skin, running from the apples of your cheeks down to your chin, coaxing you to fully give into him as he traced the tip of his tongue against your lips. He could feel himself grow hard once you gave him permission to enter, basking on the hidden whine you let out at the feeling of the warm muscle enveloping your whole body, drool pooling at the corner of both your lips.

Away from your face, he trails his hands slowly down your torso confidently ghosting the skin before the facade is broken the moment he almost freezes up once he gets to your chest. The blush on his cheeks deepened as you took notice of his apparent nervousness, laughing it off before he continued his path down to your hips, 

He was sure he was ready to die right here in your arms the moment you softly suck on his tongue, his eyes almost rolling towards the back of his skull as you hands grazed his clothed dick. The teasing touch made him groan, the vibrations against your lips feeding the urge to get closer to him. And almost like he had read your mind, you shivered at the tight grip of his hips guiding you over lap until you were resting flush against him.

“‘Want you so bad.” He panted in between giggles, nudging your noses together and pecking your lips over and over again. You barely managed to catch your breath between his kisses; when he leaned away you pulled him in, and when you did so he tried to follow the path of your lips until they were once again interlocked with his. The two of you ignored the satisfying burn of your lungs like the feeling of your bodies close against each other was good enough of a replacement for oxygen itself. “–Waited so long for this.”

He pulled you down a little harder against him, bucking his hips against your. Mewling into the kiss, you wrapped both your arms around his shoulders, perhaps taking too much enjoyment in the minimal friction against your core. The sensation of him rutting desperately against you forced you to meet his attempts for more with an equal amount of want.

“You feel so good.” you cooed, whimpering as he sucked at the skin behind your ear. “Shin, Fuck, you’re so good at this.”

Before he could stop himself, he was groaning at the praise, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck and refusing to come back up to meet your lips to hide the raging blush tinting his skin, spreading from his cheeks up to his ears.

“You like that? Like it when I say you're doing a good job?”

He hummed, though it sounded more like a whimper, and waited no time to pull your face back against his, connecting your lips again in a messy kiss, to, presumably, stop you from teasing him. He took the opportunity to indulge himself, once again tracing the outline of your lower lip with his tongue and nipping at the supple skin in retaliation.

In spite of your own reluctance, you broke the kiss first, finding the way he tried to chase your lips with his eyes half-lidded in pleasure, indescribably cute. You took a minute to fully take in this version of him, his breath uneven and with a thin sheen of sweat making some of his black locks stick to his forehead. His lips were puffy, glistening with saliva as they part involuntarily in an enrapturing appetite. 

He looked so pretty like this, you didn’t think you’d have it in you to control yourself. 

Once you had lowered the sheets covering his legs, one of your thumbs proceeded to draw circular patterns on his exposed thigh, chuckling at the way he flinched before relaxing against you. Gently ghosting your fingernails over his skin, you hiked up his hospital gown until you had full access to the band of his boxers, toying with the elastic but doing nothing aside from that.

���You want to do this here?” He pulled back, eyes wide and dazed with need yet frazzled at your sudden boldness, as if nearly dry humping in a hospital wasn’t bold enough. His hands played with the hem of your shirt, sending shivers down your spine every time his fingers grazed your skin. He looked like a deer caught in headlines, a way cuter version of Bambi, and you couldn’t help but nuzzle your nose against his cheek before kissing him gently, once, twice, thrice.

“Only if you want to.” 

“I do,” he swallowed, clearing his throat to keep himself lucid as he felt the tips of your fingers breaching the hem of his underwear, cold against the warmth of the covered skin. “Fuck, I really do, I need you s’bad I–”

“You fucking disgust me.” 

Like a pair of surprised kittens, the sudden interruption had the two of you jumping away from each other, almost falling off the bed while desperately trying to pull the sheets back into place. In turn Shinichiro tried helping you regain your balance, grabbing your arm before you crashed against the floor, nearly pulling down one of the hospital monitors in the process. 

“Don't you know how to knock?” You bit back, taking his comment more personally that you should’ve. 

“Didn’t think it’d be necessary.” Wakasa crossed his arms in front of his chest, shifting the lollipop in his mouth from one side of his cheek to the other. Standing beside, Benkei held a teddy bear and a lavender flower arrangement, mixed along with baby’s breaths and eucalyptus. If anyone had to guess, the bewildered expression he sported only meant he’d rather have his friend die than see whatever blasphemous activities you were performing. But then again, he probably expected to see his friend bedridden and weak instead of the free front row tickets to your ‘dry humping a post-concussed Shinichiro’ expectale. “‘Thought the worst thing we’d come across was him sleeping.”

“Why did you think coming across me sleeping d’be the worst case scenario!?” Shinichiro butted in lightheartedly, though you wouldn’t rule out the possibility of him actually being serious. “Are you saying I look ugly when I sleep?”

“No, you dumbass,” Wakasa deadpanned; even with his usual unbothered facade you could tell he was grateful for the ordinary banter, questioning his stupidity with a hidden smile. “How’re we gonna talk to you if you’re asleep.”

“Wait, what happened? I didn't see,” Takeomi joined in, panting as he held a couple of balloons that had ‘it's a boy!’ written all over them. “These two assholes left me while I was getting something to eat.”

The two of you groaned at the sound of his voice, pressing the heels of your hands against while Shinichiro hid his eyes behind his forearm. Even if you wanted to be lowkey about the whole situation, sweep it under the rug to avoid facing the embarrassment over again, you knew you wouldn't be able to hide it from anyone, not even Takeomi, and he wasn’t the brightest. 

Shinichiro’s hair was a tousled mess and his skin was dusted pink. Both of your lips were puffy, glistening under the fluorescent lights, and your breathing was uneven still. No matter how much the two of you tried to regulate it back to normal, it seemed to follow the rapid rhythm of each other’s heart beat.

“Nothing happened.” You grumbled, willing to attempt a lousy cover up in spite of your friend’s, including Shinichiro, giggling. Once he found out, it would be impossible for him to let it go. But even so, it took a lot of effort not to join in your friends’ laughter; it was funny to fuck with him—not literally—his puzzled frown as he borderline begged for someone to let him only feeding in your teasing. Still, once he found out. “We were just talking.”

“Yeah, talking about fuck–”

“Wakasa!” “Dude!” 

The two of you exclaimed as the blond tilted his head to the side, making his earring jingle. A teasing smile stretched on his lips as the four of you waited for Takeomi to process what was just mentioned. Knowing the speed in which the neurons within his brain transported information, it’d take a little while.

To everyone’s surprise, it only took him a couple of seconds to do so. You could visibly see it in his expression, morphing into one of amazement the minute realisation hit him straight in the face

“Did’ya– No way, you finally fucked?” And though his lack of decorum made the two men beside him laugh louder and the two of you groan as if to muffle his voice, he paid your reaction no mind other than using it as an affirmative response to his question. “No way, congrats dude! Who would’ve thought you needed to almost die just to lose your virginity.”

“I hate you so much.” Shinichiro playfully complained, a stupid grin threatening to make its way onto his lips disproving his claim. Seeing his four best friends standing around him right after waking up from what could’ve been a tragic accident made him feel all sorts of things he found himself unable to explain. It almost made him want to cry once again—happy tears this time.

“Anyway, now that you’ve got someone to stay with,” you changed the topic, interrupting yourself to fix the stray hairs sitting on top of Shinichiro’s head before caressing his cheek with your thumb, “I’ll go check whatever Keisuke’s doing, I‘ll be back in a sec.”

“Wait no, don’t go…” You had to resist the urge to give him another quick peck at the way he dragged out the ‘go’, and instead, grabbed your phone from his bedside table to respond to the missed messages coming from your mom. “Don’t leave me with these people.”

“Very funny Shitty-chiro.” Takeomi fake laughed, letting himself fall on one of the chairs nearby, stretching his arms before fully slumping against the backrest and looking at you. “But’s fine, I left Haruchiyo in charge, Senju’s with them as well.”

“Well that doesn't make things any better, does it.” At your snapping voice, he raised his hands up in surrender, as if the idea of letting a 13 year-old in charge of two 12 year-olds didn't have multiple flaws. Doing a 180° turn, you turned towards Shinichiro, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be quick, promise.”

“Wait, before you go,” Wakasa interrupted, stopping you from slinging your bag over your shoulder. He took the bright red candy out of his mouth with a pop, using it as a little wand to emphasise his speech, before he continued. “Who confessed first?”

“Yeah!” Takeomi sat at the end of his seat, gaze switching from Shinichiro to you and vice versa. “How did Shinichiro confess to ya’?”

Again, faster than the usual processing speed of his cognitive skills, he managed to string the hints together, gasping at the silence that settled between the two of you as you tried to silently decide who should say what. Shinichiro opened his mouth like a fish, as if trying to come up with something to appease his friend’s reaction before giving up and averting his eyes, pointing at you with his thumb.

Wakasa’s smirk only grew the more Takeomi seemed to sink back into the chair in dejection. “‘gotta pay up Omi-omi.”

The ruffling of bills and the complaints birthed out of the apparent loser’s mouth distracted you momentarily. You were about to laugh at the scene in front of you, two of them waiting with their hands stretched out as Takeomi reluctantly placed the wrong amount in his palm, grunting when Wakasa noticed it wasn’t the amount they had agreed on, before it clicked in your head.

“Pay up,” you mumbled to yourself, “Pay up, pay up? Wait, did you three bet on us?”

“Kinda,” Benkei sent you a reassuring smile, counting the hundred yen bills that were handed to him once again; when it came to money matters, Takeomi wasn’t someone you could trust. “We bet on who’d confess first.”

“And you didn’t bet on me?!” Shinchiro exclaimed, a little louder than he intended.

“Sorry man, ‘didn't have faith in you,” Wakasa folded the five crinkled bills in half before stashing them in his back pocket. “After your failed attempt I kinda accepted you weren’t going to win, Benkei was always betting against you, though.”

“But ‘ya admit it!” Takeomi jumped from his seat, waving his now empty wallet in the air like he was fencing with the worn out leather rectangle. “He did confess first!”

“Hell no, it only counts if it was a successful confession.”

“So the bet wouldn’t count if one of them got rejected? What's the point then!”

Wakasa groaned, pressing his temples with his thumb and middle finger, “It only counts if the two of them understand whatever was done was a confession.”

“But the lighter was him confessing!”

“Takeomi, that was the vaguest confession to ever be seen by the entirety of mankind.”

“What confession are you talking about…?” You interrupted the animated discourse with a question. In spite of enjoying the banter between your friends, you remained in the dark. Shinichiro had never confessed to you, or even remotely tried to do so. You were a hundred percent certain, after all, had he done so you were sure you’d be dating by now. 

“The lighter you always carry around,” Takeomi responded, “the fish one.”

Instinctively, you patted the pocket where your zippo lighter sat, carefully trailing your thumb lightly over the red imprints as you pulled it out. It looked almost exactly the same way as it did during the summer festival. The only difference, aside from the way the metal reflected the cold hospital lights instead of fireworks and paper lanterns, were the couple of dents on the metal and the previously well-defined engraving softening over the years.

“S‘not just a fish,” Shinichiro chuckled, letting himself fall back on the bed while hiding his flustered state behind a seemingly lame explanation. At this rate, he was sure his skin could be permanently stained a pinkish-red. “It's a red koi fish.”

“Wait,” you snapped your head from the lighter to him, letting your mouth fall open in surprise, “you, you meant that?”

“What do you…mean?” Shinichiro poked, voice twisting and forcing the ‘mean’ to come out strained. Watching your shoulders tense up and, somehow, simultaneously relaxed made him wary of the whole situation, like the universe itself was playing a prank on him. And though unlikely, he wasn't ruling out the possibility of random cameras popping up from behind the door or through the window or maybe from underneath his bed with a huge poster reading ‘you’ve been pranked!’.

He had given you that lighter seven years ago, the engravings were probably faded by now, there was no way…

“Red koi fish mean romantic love, don’t they?” 

It took him a couple of seconds to properly run your words through his brain, before his eyes widened in amusement mixed with the mild disappointment his seventeen year-old-self had forced himself to ignore after his confession had gone wrong. “You knew!?” 

“Uh…yeah? We learned that in literature class.” You shrugged with a sheepish smile in an attempt to tame down the laughter that had started bubbling in your throat at his mortified reaction. He groaned at your response, throwing one of his arms over his eyes, the sound mixing with a cry as the movement pulled on the IV digging into his arm.

He licked his lips a couple of times and rubbed the skin above the needle in an attempt to soothe the ache. Stalling, he was trying to buy time before he asked anything that could potentially hurt him. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Aside from flustered and pouty, slightly amused at his own failed attempt, he appeared to be a little sullen, perhaps even sad. It was obvious to you, though you didn’t know why; maybe he was blaming himself for losing the opportunity to get in a relationship with you way earlier. Or, maybe he blamed himself for putting any sort of pressure on you; back then, he wasn’t a hundred percent sure how you felt about him, so maybe you had purposely ignored his advances because you didn't want him. But that couldn’t be it, could it? Less than a couple of minutes ago the two of you were confessing your love for each other, so if that were to be the case, when did your feelings for him start to change? “Did, uh, did you not like me back then?”

Looking at his hopeful yet gloomy expectant features, he appeared so small and vulnerable in front of you, you wanted to give him a hug. The question had visibly caught you off-guard, your brows furrowing as soon as he was done talking. Who would’ve thought that a seemingly innocuous event from your past would come back transformed into an apparent irrational insecurity. It prompted yet another silence upon the two of you. And though it felt eternal, it lasted only a couple of milliseconds, interrupted by both your annoyance and Takeomi munching on the chips he bought at an inflated price on one of the hospital’s vending machines. 

“Do you mind?” You turned towards the obnoxious mistake you had chosen as a friend, snickering as he shrugged in questionable indifference, mumbling a muffled ‘go on’ before motioning you two to continue with a shake of his hand. But at the lack of positive feedback from anyone in the room he stopped himself to explain.

“What? It’s like watching a live romcom,” he shoved more chips into his mouth, “The ones we watch every friday, ‘ya know what I mean?”

“Okay,” Benkei clapped both his hands together, gathering everyone’s attention before he pulled Takeomi into a standing position and pushed both him and an amused Wakasa towards the door. “Seems like all of us are hungry, we’re heading to the cafeteria real quick, we’ll send Baji back up when we’re done, sounds good?”

“Sounds good, thanks, Benkei.” You smiled at him, watching the three of them leave and sighing in satisfaction when you saw the way the gentle-giant punched Takeomi’s arm once they were far enough for his complaints to appear silent. “But to answer your question,” you turned towards Shinichiro once again, sitting at the edge of the bed and resting your hand on top of his. You could see the way he visibly relaxed against your touch, the warmth of your skin coaxing his insecurities away little by little. “I did like you very much back then, too much for it to be considered healthy, I'm pretty sure…”

“Why didn’t you say anything then?”

“Well, I, you know,” you stumbled over your words, suddenly feeling the embarrassment for your younger self was all over you. Why didn’t you say anything? Well, in hindsight, you didn’t think Shinchiro had it in him to use a literary reference as a means of confession. Not because he was stupid, that was Takeomi's role, but because it was very un-Shinichiro. You had been witness to the countless failed confession attempts and nothing included anything as subtle and detailed as the lighter he had gifted you. Back then, he professed his brimming infatuation with an honest smile, the well-rehearsed question ‘would you go out with me?’ and absolutely nothing else. And though the ‘courting’ period included him acting all whipped and soft, he was usually very blunt when it came to asking people out, gentle but direct. 

Although, thinking about it a little bit more in depth, he had always been very romantic, sometimes cringy with the shitty pick up lines, but during movie nights he had always chosen movies with clear romantic subplots, and you can recall that one romance poetry book he kept borrowing from the library, unable to finish it before returning it—at least that’s what you thought, by the amount of times he had taken it home.

When you were both in middle school and high school, he would watch couples holding hands with a gentle smile, sometimes going as far as spacing out and letting a dreamy sigh fall from his lips—he always brushed off the person asking the reason behind his sighing, but you were paying attention to him more often than not, so of course you knew—and of course, you couldn’t forget the many times he had shared hypothetical scenarios with the four of you, most of them consisting of him fantasising out loud the sort of dates he’d like to have with his hypothetical s/o or what he would do for them before being relentlessly teased by all of you.

So, in retrospect, him trying to confess through a pretty much evident symbol extracted from one of your favourite books was a very un-Shinichiro, Shinichiro thing to do, if that made any sense. 

“I think…I might’ve gaslit myself into believing it was a coincidence, didn't wanna get my hopes up.”

“I thought, I– I thought it was pretty obvious that I liked you.” He chuckled, scooting to the side in order to make more space for you to lay, next to him, the same you had done most of the days you had spent here. “Everybody knew I did.”

“Wait, really? I thought you were being friendly!” You let out a laugh, watching him soften up even more at your obliviousness and simultaneously hold back laughter of his own. “Don’t laugh at me! You were flirtier with Wakasa than with me!”

“You can’t blame me!” He finally laughed along with you, interlocking your fingers together and pulling you close until you were squished next to him, and waited for you to get comfortable before continuing his spiel. “Waka’s my best friend, we’ve always been like that, and you know it.” He nuzzled his cheek against your head, muttering the words in the quietest way possible, like he didn’t want to be heard by anyone but you. “Plus I couldn't flirt with you, I'd blush and cry afterwards.”

“Yeah, I’d’ve cried if you flirted with me as well.”

“Hey!”

“I mean it in a good way! Happy tears or whatever.” You sighed with a giddy grin, caressing his cheeks with the back of your hand before smushing them together, forcing a pout and giving him a quick peck on the lips. “I promise I’ll forever be in love with you.”

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