#shinichiro angst

[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.”

© 2023 SHINACHIRO ; Do not repost my work. Do not recommend my work outside of tumblr. Do not translate my work. affiliated with @tokyometronetwork

[shoyoist]

— 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 : sano shinichiro.

cw: gn!reader. barista!y/n. lots of fluff, strangers to lovers except you already sorta know eachother, so it's a bit of a speed run. shin bounces from confident to insecure a lot. a cute cameo by baby inupi. happy birthday, sano shinichiro my love.

wc: approximately 3.3k

⠀⠀⠀⠀ — . ｡˚ ♡ shinichiro plans to confess his feelings to you, the cute barista at his favourite coffee shop. on his birthday. but it doesn't play out as he expected.

the coffee shop seems even busier than usual, on the morning of august first.

teenagers getting together to hang out and make the best of their summer break, office workers sneaking in for a quick morning meal, and groups of tourists on their way out to the beach all flock to the counter — some scanning the menus displayed overhead, some with their usual order already on their tongue.

shinichiro has been seated at the back for an hour now, only a cup of plain black in front of him on the table. 

he's leaning on his fist, gaze as bored and sleepy as he can disguise it to be, as he pretends to look out of the window across the room.

every now and then, his eyes stop tracing the logo stamped on the window, and he sneaks a longing glance at you, as you stand at the counter, tallying up bill after bill for the morning crowd.

the sun that streams through the storefront is a pale gold, and it throws gentle highlights onto your complexion. 

it puts a pretty glimmer in your eyes, and accentuates all the lines of your figure as you lean back to talk to one of the other baristas. 

when you reach forward to hand a customer their change, there's a glow to your smile as you thank them, telling them you hope they'll come again.

to sum up, you're fucking gorgeous, and all shinichiro can do is sit there and stare.

he's texted wakasa, benkei and takeomi and asked them to join him, but they're taking their time getting to the place.

they don't take him seriously, he knows, but you'd given him a look and a pretty smile when he walked into the shop — as you’ve been doing for a while now, and he swears he has a chance this time.

shinichiro doesn't even know how or when he became so infatuated with you. 

he'd just walked in here one day, before opening up the bike shop, feeling like shit and deciding to opt for a coffee rather than a smoke. and as soon as your fingers touched while you handed him his drink, he'd fallen in love.

maybe it was after the sip he took out of it (coffee you'd made for him with your lovely hands) with his gaze still on you, eyes a little too wide and starstruck for his own good.

maybe you'd put something in his drink. maybe it was some sort of love potion — hell, he doesn't know.

all he's sure of, is that you're beautiful. and on this lovely, sunny morning on the first day of august — on his birthday — he's feeling confident.

he wants to tell you he likes you, and he wants to compliment your smile. your voice, your eyes. and he's going to do it today.

if only his stupid fucking friends would get here sooner, then he could practise his lines with them, and get to you before your shift is over.

another fifteen minutes pass as he sits there in the corner and waits.

and then, shinichiro notices you get called over by a frazzled looking coworker. 

there's an exchange of words between the two of you, before you pull back your shoulders, give your coworker an assuring nod, and walk out of the cafe through the back door.

he doesn't know what just happened, but his heart sinks.

you look just as pretty from the back, the dark green pants and white shirt combo that all the employees wear hugs your figure nicely, and you have an attractive walk.

but you're walking away, and that other girl takes your place at the counter, getting a drink of water and tying her hair back before she gets to work serving the line.

wait, he thinks. how ‘m i supposed to confess to you if you leave?

he does have the option to just get up and follow you out, call your name and get you to pay a sliver of your time and attention to him, while he tells you how he feels.

but he can’t bring himself to it — he remains frozen in his seat, watching as you disappear behind the door, heart sinking further and chest hollowing out as he loses sight of you.

a waiter inches his way up to shinichiro as he sits there dejectedly, hoping you’d be gone only for a little while, and asks tentatively, "another coffee, sir?"

"nah." he shakes his head. "i'm waiting to see if my friends show up. if they aren't here in fifteen, i'm cashing this cup in and heading out."

the waiter nods politely and wanders off to another table, and shinichiro maintains his stare on the back door that you'd walked out of.

please, he prays. come back.

he doesn't know how much longer he sits there for. it's definitely more than fifteen minutes, but he's upset. the buzz of conversation going around him fades into a dull hum, as he props his elbows on the table and rests his face in his hands.

the one thing he wanted to do on his birthday today, was to confess to you. or at least tell you you're looking beautiful today (and every other day, too).

but now, he can't do it. because you're gone. he'll have to leave for work soon, and his damned friends are still nowhere to be seen.

and really, it was alright even if he didn’t get to confess to you. he might’ve bailed out on it himself, even if you’d been at the counter all day, available for him to converse with.

but of all days in which you could all of a sudden leave work in the middle of your shift, it had to be today?

on his birthday, when—

"shin?"

there's a voice talking into shinichiro's ear all of a sudden, and he flinches, whirling around in his seat with his hand raised and ready to slap whoever it is — but just in time, he realizes, it's a kid. 

"m-mikey?"

"no," says the little boy, blinking pale eyes shadowed by pale eyelashes, and shaking a head full of even paler hair. 

his cheeks are rosy with the summer heat — and shinichiro notices the scar over his eye a little too late. "why do people keep calling me the wrong names? i'm inui."

"i—" shinichiro has to laugh despite his sour mood, because the kid is adorable. "sorry, seishu. didn't see ya there."

"'s okay." inui mumbles, fidgeting with the pocket of his hoodie. he pulls out a little cardboard box, crumpled in his hand, and gives it to shinichiro. "i got you a birthday present."

"aw, thank you little man." he coos, taking the box from the boy and setting it down on the table. inui waits for a few seconds, before he clears his throat. "you're supposed to open it."

"oh." shinichiro mouths. inui gives him an unimpressed look, lidded eyes rolling in their sockets at him, as he snatches the box back and peels the top open with his thumbnail. "what've you got for me, huh?"

it's a bracelet — one of those elastic ones with tons of tiny, multi-coloured beads on them. 

he cant help but wonder where inui might've got it from, but he slips it onto his wrist anyway, and gives him a grin. "it's great. thanks, buddy. now why don't you tell me how you found me here?"

"um," inui seems to take some time to retrace his steps. "i went to the bike shop. but only benkei was there. he said you were at the coffee place, so i came here."

"what's he doin' there?" shinichiro frowns, and inui shrugs unhelpfully. "dunno. gas, i think."

"i give them a spare key for emergencies and they just go in there any fuckin' time they want." he runs a hand through his hair, starting to feel like he should just give up and go.

once his friends make their way into his shop, they never leave. not until he closes the place up for the night, or chases them out. so, most likely, they wouldn't be coming to the coffee shop any time soon.

it doesn't look like you'll be back either, and if wakasa joins benkei and finds the collection of tapes he's stored away under the counter, he's never going to hear the end of it.

before he can get up, take inui's little hand in his and get going, though, inui climbs onto the empty seat next to him and makes himself comfortable. "why are you here, shin? 's your birthday. you should go hang out with your friends."

"i'm an adult, seishu." shinichiro laughs, flopping back against his own seat. 

fine, maybe he'll buy inui a muffin or something first. 

"i have work from 9 to 5, even on my birthday. 'm just here for some coffee before i open the shop." he shrugs his shoulders, glancing at the back door once again, though you’re no where in sight.

"why can't you get coffee at home?" inui asks, and he reaches over to ruffle the boy's fluffy cloud of hair. "'cause then mikey's gonna ask me for coffee. kids shouldn't drink coffee."

"i drink coffee." inui remarks, and at this point, shinichiro's too tired to care.

he asks the waiter for a muffin, and the man shoots inui a strange look (probably wondering if this is the friend shinichiro had been talking about) before fetching him what he requested.

a moment passes, and as shinichiro watches inui nibble on the chocolate dessert, he feels an urge to emote in his chest.

"and also ... there's someone workin' here," he begins slowly, testing the waters. inui looks up immediately, eyes bright and clear. so he finishes his sentence. "someone that i may like."

"you like them?" inui lowers his voice (like a good friend. waka, benkei and omi could never. neither could mikey). he turns and looks around, eyeing the waiters and the new girl at the counter. "which one?"

"think they're out back right now. or maybe gone." shinichiro sighs. "i came here to ... confess. but they left, and i have to get to work myself soon. i lost my chance."

inui gives him a confused look. "what do you mean?" then, without letting him explain, the boy hops off his chair and starts walking towards the exit, taking the muffin with him. "just come out and look for them."

for a second, shinichiro doesn't get it.

so he just sits there and watches inui push the door open and walk out — before it clicks, all of a sudden, and he shoves the chair back and leaps to his feet. "seishu, no!"

ignoring the looks everyone else in the shop aims at him, he pulls his work jacket back around his shoulders, and runs out after inui.

the sun and the hot breeze outside is a sharp contrast to the air conditioned shop, but he blinks the effect of the heat back and stumbles around the building to the back, hoping inui hasn't done anything stupid.

he tears around the corner and sees inui, and opens his mouth to call out his name — before freezing instantly, upon realizing that he's already talking to you. "sei— fuck."

inui turns around, blinking doe eyes up at him innocently. 

and of course, you look up at him, too.

so you hadn't left.

shinichiro has only ever seen you behind the counter.

or when you're clocking in for your shift in the morning. or when you're leaving in the afternoon, sometimes, if he's taking a break from his own bike shop and loitering around. which is all from a distance, or behind a glass wall.

right now, though, you're standing right in front of him. 

your apron is off, revealing more of your body to him — and your hands are now gloved, and there's a van behind you, the back of it full of wooden boxes.

some of the boxes are on the ground, and he understands that you're unloading them. supplies for the cafe, he assumes. maybe this was initially your coworker’s job, and then you’d switched tasks. yeah.

fuck, you're so pretty.

a nervous chill rides up shinichiro's spine, even as the sun’s warmth pools over him, lighting up his dark eyes and dark hair as he walks a few steps forward. "uh, seishu. let's go."

"this is him. see? he’s here to tell you." inui says to you, and shinichiro's hands curl up into fists where they're inside his pockets.

“did you—” he hisses at the boy, before catching himself and skirting his eyes back to yours. did he spill everything to you?

inui simply bites into the muffin, that he's still holding cupped in his palms.

shinichiro's face burns, even though nothing has happened yet, and he knows he's blushed too hard for you to pass it off as an effect of the summer heat.

"hi," you smile at him, breaking the awkward silence. you seem unfazed, and he really doesn't know what's happening anymore. "shinichiro?"

"uh," he stumbles on his words again — he's embarrassing himself, now, for fuck's sake. "yeah. how'd ya know my name?"

"your little brother told me." you gesture to inui, with a little giggle that sounds so cute as it leaves your lungs, shinichiro wishes he could record it.  "and besides, i've taken your order more than a few times. you gave me your name, you know."

he blinks, licking his lips nervously. god, fuck little kids. 

"i uh, oh yeah. forgot." he reaches up to rub the back of his neck, feeling so dumb, but also so warm and giddy because shit, you're talking to him, and you're laughing. "seishu's not my brother, by the way. he's just ... a friend."

"a friend." you repeat. shinichiro nods. "yeah."

"and ... it's your birthday?" you ask, and he pauses again, because oh god, that's right. inui's gone and told you that it's his birthday and he's trying to confess to you today.

he opens his mouth to say something, but before he can decide what he should say, the sound of motorcycle engines roaring to an exaggerated stop cuts him off.

sounds like wakasa, benkei and takeomi were finally here. and they were letting him know it. 

his phone buzzes in his jeans pocket — one of them has sent him a text.

inui's eyes light up at the familiar sound, and he glances at shin for only a second, shooting a 'can i go?' look before he runs back around the corner to the front of the shop, to meet them.

shinichiro has half a mind to follow the boy.

to hurry up and run away, while he still can. 

this is birthday gift enough. to see you up close and talk to you, and hear you say his name, with that pretty voice of yours.

"what was that?" you ask, stopping him in his tracks — as the honk of a motorcycle's horn cuts through your question, making you wince.

shinichiro grits his teeth, feeling like everything was going his way and also exactly against his way. 

"that would be," he chuckles awkwardly, after the horn stops. "my other friends."

"you called your friends over?" you say, and though your tone is good natured, it still makes shinichiro wish the ground would swallow him whole. "i would think that's creepy, if you really weren't so cute."

wait, what?

he looks up at that, automatically hopeful. balling his hands up deeper into the pockets of his work jacket, he leans forward slightly, inquiring. "hm? say that again, will ya?"

"i think you're cute," you repeat, and when he gets an eyeful of your shy smile, he feels elated — hell, he put that smile on your face?

he had just been thinking that, apart from everything else that was wrong right now, the dreary back end of a cafe, standing alongside a grungy van full of coffee supplies, wasn't the best place to confess your feelings to someone.

but you know what, if it works, then it works.

"uh huh," he grins, feeling cockier. does he really have a shot with you? taking a breath, he steels himself. "and what're ya gonna do about that?"

"get you a drink on the house, maybe. since it's your birthday and all." you contemplate, walking over to the van and dragging out another box full of something made of glass, as the tinkling gives away. "not your friends, though."

"not my friends." he agrees immediately, coaxing another pretty giggle from you.

your voices hitches a little as you struggle with the weight of the box."o-okay, but i thought you were the one with a plan in mind."

"hm," he muses, taking a chance by stepping closer to you and taking the box from your hands. you let him do it, and he places it back on another box inside the van, before lifting both of them together. 

you lead him into the storage room at the back of the building, and he puts them down where you tell him to.

brushing away your thanks, he hums, "think a date sounds good. a date with the birthday boy, yeah?"

"mhm," you look up at him, eyes glinting a little with the bright sun that falls in seams through the open door just by you. "then this date would be your very first one ever, wouldn't it?"

it takes a moment to register what you said in his head — and as soon as it does, his mouth drops open in disbelief. "what? how did you know—"

you laugh again, face flushing beautifully as you pat his arm reassuringly. "i've liked you for a while, too, you know. and i've asked your friends about you."

"fuck," shinichiro groans. "and who told you about that?"

"wakasa." you say, and he slaps a hand across his forehead. "of course it was him. bet omi told you 'bout when—"

"hey, cut them some slack." you murmur, the hand you've placed on his arm curling its fingers around his bicep, and he shivers under the jacket, a stranger to such a caress. "i'm the one that wanted to know about you."

"could've asked me." he sighs, rubbing his eyes with his index finger and thumb, before meeting your gaze again. "you're tellin' me you like me, after i gathered up all that courage to tell you i like you?"

"i was just making sure!" you protest, and he shakes a finger at you. "and ya called me a creep, for bringin' my friends over. when you already knew them!"

"hey, i said you're cute." you mumble, frowning playfully.

you're both silent for a second after that, in which shinichiro gathers his thoughts and bearings, and slowly, his heart warms and picks up pace. 

god, you like him. you've accepted his offer for a date.

he's going to have to sock his friends later, for keeping this secret from him — but for now, he can't care enough about them.

maybe he'll keep the bike shop closed for today. as inui had so smartly said, it is his birthday, after all.

he follows you out to the van again, and lets you pull another carton of supplies out of it before taking it from you. "so ... this afternoon, at 2? after your shift. i'll pick you up on my motorcycle."

"sure, that sounds good." you nod, and once he's gotten the box into the store room for you, you gesture to the cafe. "now go back in, and i'll get you that free drink once i'm done here."

"let me stay with ya." he pouts, dark eyes somehow going all cute and charming when he does it. "i'll help you with this. we can go back in together."

you allow him to grab yet another box from the van, before gently lacing your hand back around his arm and pulling him down, to press a short kiss to his cheek. "so sweet to me already?"

your lips are soft, and you smell like cinnamon and matcha when he leans in close to you. up close, your eyes are even more stunning.

"of course. 'm a sweet man." he smiles, closing his eyes as you kiss his cheek once more, and he thinks that he'll never experience a better birthday than this one, ever again.

[nejibaby]

(un)certainties

Pairing: Sano Shinichiro x Reader

Word count: 0.9k

“You aren’t well versed in love. And the things that you do know of love, you’ve learned from Sano Shinichiro.”

You’re not sure how things ended up this way.

The air is stuffy and stale. No sound can be heard aside from the occasional scraping of the utensils against the plates and the clock ticking on the wall. It makes you a little bit self conscious about your own breathing — afraid that it would disrupt the atmosphere if you breathed too deeply.

You pretend to take a sip on your glass of wine and sneak a peek at the person in front of you.

Sano Shinichiro seems to be unperturbed. He maintains a blank, impassive face.

It makes you wonder, does this silence really not bother him?

A couple of years ago, at the very restaurant you’re both in, and on the exact same table you’re both seated at, things were a lot different. Back then, the air was filled with laughters and giggles, and random stories. At that time, conversation flowed freely, so much so that by nine in the evening you both barely even touched the food right in front of you.

But now, you’ve had your wine glass refilled thrice, and the night is just about to end without a single word being uttered.

It feels lonely, even with him there.

Just as you put your glass back down, Shinichiro raises his eyes to meet yours. You look away instantly when you notice him raise a brow.

You feel your ears burn from having been caught staring at him.

Fortunately, he doesn’t question your rather odd actions.

Unfortunately, he interprets your actions as something else, and the first words he tells you at this anniversary dinner is, “Do you want to go home?”

You suppose it’s pointless to stay much longer so you give him a curt smile and a nod.

Shinichiro returns the smile, but it doesn’t really make your heart skip. Not when it isn’t a genuine one. Not when it’s the practised smile he easily gives away to other people.

The ride home isn’t silent, thanks to his tendency to hum random songs as he drives. At least that’s something that hasn’t changed over the years.

However, instead of admiring his talent, your mind chooses a different path for tonight. It goes wandering to uncharted territories, making you wonder if long term relationships are supposed to be this way.

Is it still considered normal if both of you make time for important events and go on dates but without talking to each other? Is it okay living under the same roof without connecting? Existing at the same timeline but moving on different paces?

The cold hard truth is you don’t actually know. You aren’t well versed in love. And the things that you do know of love, you’ve learned from Sano Shinichiro.

It is and has always been Shinichiro for you.

But is that the case with him too? Does he feel the same way with you?

You’re not sure — at least not anymore.

You go on with your separate routines by the time you get home. The night ends with Shinichiro leaving a kiss on your forehead before he turns his back to you to sleep.

It hurts. And before you know it, tears are falling from your eyes.

Is this really how it’s going to be in the long run? Are you supposed to get used to the silence and loneliness? Why does this make you feel miserable?

You stare at his back, and question whether it would be okay to reach out to him. Slowly, carefully, you scoot over towards him. Tentatively, you raise your arm to wrap around his torso.

You wait to see if he stirs awake, ready to pull away if he does. You watch for any signs of change in his breathing, but there isn’t any.

Despite the relief, your lips quiver.

He’s been so busy these past few months, he rarely ever goes home. You understand his duties and responsibilities, you really do. Besides, you’ve been through this before. You should be content that he’s here, that he’s taken a day off to spend with you. But why does it feel like he’s slipping through your fingers this time around?

You sigh and press your forehead against his back. You miss being this close to him. You miss his warmth. You miss his scent. You miss everything about him.

You press a kiss on his shoulder and pull back. Just as you start to lay on your back, you hear Shinichiro whimper faintly.

You suppose he too misses your warmth next to his, albeit unconsciously. It brings about a sad smile on your face. “What am I going to do with you?”

When you move closer to him, you gently rub your palms against his back. His whimpers immediately cease. You sit up to take a peek at his face and see him pouting in his sleep.

He’s adorable.

It temporarily eases your pain.

You run your hands through his hair and place a fleeting kiss on his nose.

You decide then and there that it wouldn’t be so bad if you poured more of your love to Shinichiro.

You’ll try harder for this. You’ll fight desperately for him. You’ll brave whatever sea or ocean despite the high waves and deadly currents, even if it means drowning in an endless abyss. As long as it means more time with Shinichiro. As long as it means more of him.

Because it is and has always been Shinichiro for you.

song reference/inspiration: (1) dinner by suho, jang jane, (2) let me in by exo

[suyacho]

the incident // shinichiro sano

incidents happen but the guilt that comes with it can eat you alive…

selfship collab

WARNINGS: gn!reader - heavy spoilers on chapter 269 of tokyorev - hurt comfort - extreme feeling of guilt - angst - shin cries, poor bb - cursing - 1,3k words - no beta before i delete this draft help

thank you eris @kxeyas for helping me out with this🥹

Nervously, you paced back and forth in your living room, waiting for any updates from Shinichiro. It had been a few hours since your lover left work in such a rush without saying a word, of course you were worried.

Grandpa Sano called for Shinichiro and the next thing you knew, Shinichiro stormed off and here you were, worried sick and prepared for the worst.

Shinichiro never left like that and the rush he had was enough to let you know it was something urgent. Probably with one of the Sano’s because is there any other reason for grandpa Sano to call? 

You didn’t want it to be true, they had gone through enough and were the sweetest, you’ve grown up around them as Shinichiro’s innocent childhood crush and now his longtime partner. Yet there was this unpleasant feeling in your gut, telling you it might be the worst outcome ever.

The sound of your phone getting a notification caught your attention, hurriedly you opened it, relief washing over you when you saw that it was a text from Shinichiro. Thank god, he was fine.

Opening it, your face dropped, you had celebrated too early. It was a rather short text but it was plenty for you to know how bad it was. Slowly you sat on the couch, feeling tears prick in your eyes as you reread the text.

Manjiro was in a critical condition.

You didn’t even know what to answer, you knew how much he meant to Shinichiro, how much he meant to all of them. He’s just a little kid, you thought, not noticing the tears rolling down your cheeks until one dropped onto your phone, blurring Shin’s message.

“Poor Manjiro…” you whispered, wiping the tears away as you collected yourself, knowing that Shinichiro needed your support more than anyone right now even without knowing the full story.

And almost like grandpa Sano knew you were thinking about this, you’ve got a phone call from him, filling you in on all the details, sounding extremely worried and upset. Who wouldn’t be? Especially after something like that happening to your precious grandson?

-- -- -- -- 

Not much after, you were at their house, a bag filled with some of Shinichiro’s favorite snacks and drinks and a bouquet for them, to wish Manjiro a quick recovery, knowing it was hard on them.

Quietly you walked into the house, guessing Shinichiro was here because grandpa Sano  told you he ran off from the hospital, most likely needing a moment to let it all out. “All because of this stupid– stupid fucking plane!” Shinichiro cursed out, the sound of something being thrown on the ground ego-ing in the house after.

Bingo.

Without saying a word, you walked up to the room, watching how he mumbled a string of curses while stomping on the plane toy he had gifted Manjiro. You would’ve said something but you knew, knew that he needed a moment to let it out, all his emotions. 

“I-If I only hadn’t gotten that stupid thing.” Shinichiro mumbled, voice cracking mid sentence as he broke down in tears, your heart breaking at the sight.

Shinichiro felt guilty, like all of it was his fault, it happened because of the plane he got after all. If he hadn’t gotten it, Manjiro would just be fine and not in the hospital.

“Damn it…” Shinichiro cried, sitting down on the bed, trying to wipe the tears away as they kept coming. “Why? Just why?” he whispered, looking at the destroyed plane on the ground.

“It’s not your fault you know?” you finally spoke, making him look up quickly, his teary eyes meeting with yours, noticing your weak, sorry smile through his blurred sight.

“J-Just how long have you been there?” Shinichiro sniffled, not moving from his spot. “Sorry, just wanted to give you a moment.” you answered, sitting next to him.

“ ‘s okay, don’t apologize.” Shinichiro told you, the tears still rolling down his cheeks as the doctor's words repeated in his head, clenching his fists at the thought.

“Shin baby— they were just kids, it’s not because of your gift.” you reassured him, placing your hand on his wet cheek, locking your eyes with his. “But if I hadn't gotten it, he’d be fine.” Shinichiro fought back and you just shook your head no, gently stroking his cheek.

“You still made him happy when you got it, you made Manjiro happy didn’t you?” you continued, only for him to nod slightly, sighing afterwards.

“But what if?” Shinichiro started and you nodded to show him you were listening, giving him the space to let his thoughts out.. “It’s all ‘cause that stupid fucking thing.” he rambled on, melting into your touch as he continued, letting his tears fall, not afraid to show his vulnerable side to you.

“Shin…” you spoke, breaking the silence in the room. “Hmm?” “It’s okay, it’s not your fault at all, I promise.” you told him in a sweet and caring tone, giving him the reassurance he needed. 

He still felt guilty but in this moment, he needed someone to listen, to be there for him and to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. Luckily, you were there with him because if you weren’t, he felt like he might’ve lost it all, like the thoughts telling him that it should’ve been him in the hospital bed, would take over his mind.

“Promise?” Shinichiro asked, in a tone almost like he was begging. “I promise, plus; Manjiro wouldn’t blame you for it either.” you answered, wiping his last few tears away. 

“That kid— Manjiro loved you more than anything Shin…” you smiled weakly, never moving your hands as you shifted closer to him.

“He looks up to you so much, in fact— Manjiro always brags about you, tells me how cool and amazing he thinks you are whenever I’m at your house.” “He wouldn’t tell you that to your face though, it would hurt his pride.” 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is… No matter what happens, he wouldn’t hold it against you, so don’t blame yourself for it okay?” you reassured him and he just listened, nodding along.

It wasn’t like you were trying to sweet talk him into feeling better, it was the truth. The thing you thought Shinichiro needed the most right now.

“Manjiro is strong, isn’t he? He’ll be fine.” you continued, smiling when you noticed his eyes light up with a hint of hope.

No matter how hard things were right now, all you could do was pray for the best & be there for him and that was exactly what you were doing.

“I hope so.” Shinichiro finally spoke, letting out a deep sigh of relief, the relief of finally having talked to someone. 

“I know so, he’s your little brother after all.” you tried to crack a joke in hopes of cheering him up, even if it was the slightest bit.

“Yeah— you’re right.” Shinichiro laughed softly, tackling you in a hug after. “I fucking love you.” he mumbled, nuzzling his face into your neck. 

“Thank you so much love.” 

“No need to thank me Shin, it’s the least I could do.” you smiled, running your hands through his hair. 

“Oh and— I called in sick for work tomorrow in your place, they're all worried about you and how you ran off like that.” 

“Thank you— I made quite a scene, didn't I?” Shinichiro asked, facing you again and you shook your head no. “Just don’t worry about that. You did what you had to do.” you answered, softly pecking his lips after, noticing the small smile on his face.

Shinichiro didn’t know how he got so lucky with you but he sure knew that he would treasure every single moment with you. Because with the way he always cared so much for others, he always had someone taking care of him in the end.

Someone he wished to protect forever.

[invaderzia1]

shinichiro x reader, angst

SPOILERS FOR TR 268

imagine being shinichiros girlfriend in the original timeline. always there for him when he thought of all the bad that happened to him and his family. You aren’t aware of his burden he has as a timeleaper, only the pain and suffering he carrying as a result. he knows it’s dangerous and no matter how much you tell him you always be by his side no matter what, the idea of you being hurt or worse scares him to death.

then imagine one day, everything is different. you don’t remember it, but the timeline has changed. you have a new boyfriend and you’re happy. you don’t even remember Shinichiro Sano or the relationship you once shared. instead his name drifts into your memory as you forget your old acquaintance you once knew. no longer do you share an apartment with him, moved to some nice condo with this new man.

when wakasa asks him if it was worth it, sabotaging his relationship with you in order to achieve this “perfect” timeline, shinichiro can only softly smile and nod. he knows he can’t trust his voice as he watches you walk away to your new life without him. but as long as you’re safe then that’s all that matters.

[haihaihaitani]

Do I Look Okay? ~ *Shinichiro Sano*

Summary: Your bodyguard is in love; in love with you that is. But he knows it can never be. But that doesn’t mean he can’t still hope and wish that you will look at him with love. And perhaps, maybe you do...

Pairing: Shinichiro Sano X Fem!Reader

Genre: Angstyish Oneshot

Word Count: 2302

Warning: one innuendo right in the beginning, unrequited-requited love, hurt no comfort but it’s the good kind (the kind with hope)

Masterlist

Taglist: @soulangel​

A/N: He’s just so in love with you.

Part Two can be found here: You Look Perfect

“Did you make sure to lube the shaft?”

Shinichiro practically choked on the air as his client innocently asked a question to the chauffeur. Movie stars, honestly. However, he was a bit surprised when the man driving simply chuckled and nodded.

“Yes, Miss Y/n. The car will run nicely now. Your private mechanic did well.” He assured her.

She nodded, sending Shinichiro a wink. “Good. I was worried about this old car. I want to make a grand entrance at the red carpet tonight. Nothing says a grand entrance like a Rolls Royce Phantom limo.”

“You’re absolutely right, Miss Y/n.” The chauffeur chuckled again before she finally sat back in her seat, dusting off her lap.

Shinichiro sighed. He didn’t like being addressed as her personal mechanic. Yes, he absolutely loved working on her old cars, but his real position was bodyguard. Calling him a personal mechanic almost sounded dirty to him.

She gave him a cheeky smile as he sat back and the car started on its way back to her mansion. “Was that really necessary?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Giggling to herself, her smile grew. “It’s cute seeing you all hot and bothered. Really, you’re positively adorable when you’re flustered.”

“Thanks.” He muttered, averting his eyes as he frowned.

His breath hitched as she leaned against him, flashing her big puppy dog eyes. “Are you mad at me? You seem mad at me. It was just a little joke, you know. I was only teasing.”

“Teasing or not, you shouldn’t be making those kinds of jokes, especially in front of others.” He informed her, staring straight ahead so he wouldn’t fall victim to her glassy doe eyes.

“Why not?”

“Because…” He didn’t really know what to say. She shouldn’t because it makes him uncomfortable because he was harboring an unrequited crush towards the budding actress? A crush that if anyone found out, would get him fired, or worse, ruined as an impeccable bodyguard. He shook his head. “Because you’ll destroy your reputation.”

“Hmmm.” She sat back and it felt like the air had returned to his lungs. As she examined her elegantly polished nails, she continued, “What else do I need to do before the premiere tonight?”

Despite being her bodyguard and personal mechanic, he also was her secretary. She didn’t like having a lot of people following her around and catering to her every whim. So it was just him, awkward and loner Shinichiro Sano. Checking her personal schedule that he had inputted in his phone, he announced, “You have a hair appointment next and then you have to hurry and get dressed and get  your makeup done before the premiere.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” She stopped him, waving her hands around wildly. “What about food? I’m so hungry I’m going to die!”

He sighed. “You’ll be eating before you get dressed.”

“Then let’s order take-out!” She squealed with delight. “I’m dying for some good Chinese food! I know a great little place not too far from here that’s so delicious and cheap and ugh! My mouth is watering just thinking about it! Please, can we get some?”

Despite himself, Shinichiro shrugged, “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt…”

“Just make sure I don’t eat too much. I don’t want to feel bloated before the premiere.” She admitted. “That’s the worst, when you eat too much and then you just can’t move because you’re so full.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“So are you going to eat with me or are you just going to stand there and watch me eat like you always do?” She asked, her bottom lip jutting out. “I want you to eat with me this time around. I want you to fall in love with the food just like I did.”

Again, Shinichiro froze. He didn’t mean for his first thought to be she was asking him out, but his mind strayed that way. Secretly, deep down in his heart, he really, really, really wanted it to be a date. He wanted to eat with her and talk about anything and everything, as long as it wasn’t about work. He wanted to attempt to be a cute boyfriend and try to feed her. But he knew it would never, ever, EVER happen and he needed to accept that. She was a star, he was a black cloud.

“Sure, I suppose I could…” He trailed off, mentally cursing himself. He should have said no. It was the proper response a normal bodyguard would say: no, thank you, I really shouldn’t. But he couldn’t say that to her. Not when she looked at him like that, with her pleading eyes and tender voice.

She squealed again, even going as far as clapping her hands with delight. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’ll send in the online order.”

“And then I’ll pick it up.”

Swiftly she pulled out her phone and started tapping away. She asked him a couple of questions as she completed the order, satisfied with the kind of food she got the two of them. After the order was placed, she chattered on and on about random nonsense that he wasn’t really paying attention to. Really he was paying attention to the sound of her voice, and how it sounded like a melody. The way she emphasized words and spoke as if she were singing scales. He was truly enraptured by her.

Upon arriving at her estate, she was whisked to her room to get her hair done. While that was going on, Shinichiro picked up the food and set everything up at her dining room table. As he was doing this, he was trying his hardest not to freak out on the outside and keep all of his anxiety and excitement on the inside. This could be a date if you squinted. He could be on a date with the hottest movie star this year.

But he wasn’t.

He started mumbling under his breath, “No, this isn’t a date. I mean if this was a date, she would have explicitly said so. You know her. You know she has no filter. You know she would tell you exactly if this was a date when she asked you to stay. But she didn’t. So you know it’s not. So you shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions and hoping it is a date. I mean, if you were hoping this was a date, it’s not, because that would be absolutely ridiculous-”

“Everything okay?” She called out from the entryway, almost making him drop his food.

He nodded, albeit a bit too quickly. “Yeah, everything is just fine.”

When he turned to look at her, he almost dropped his food again. Her hair was done up so elegantly with a few silver clips to accent the style. Shinichiro knew she was pretty without her hair and makeup done, but even if it was just her hair, she still managed to take his breath away. She looked positively exquisite.

“It’s not too much, right?” There was a sliver of fear in her voice and if he didn’t know her that well, he wouldn’t have heard it. But Shinichiro knew her very well and he knew that she always felt very self conscious when it came to getting all dressed up for events like premieres and charity galas.

Nodding again, he assured her, “You are beautiful. Really, you’re stunning.”

She smiled, a small look of relief washing over her for a split second. “Good. Now pass me the food, I’m starving over here! I’m practically about to pass out from hunger!”

With a chuckle, he handed her her food. She eagerly sat down and dug into her meal, humming in delight at the taste. Shinichiro simply observed, picking through his own food as he did so. It’s not that he didn’t like the food, it was amazing just like she said it would be, it’s just he didn’t feel hungry. A small voice in the back of his head was screaming at him repeatedly that this was a date and he should make an effort to talk to her. But another voice shot back that it clearly wasn’t a date and he was on duty, therefore he needed to remain vigilant.

“Do you ever relax, Shin?” She asked him out of the blue.

He blinked in surprise, both at her question and the nickname. “Pardon?”

She shrugged, still not making eye contact as she picked through her food. “I don’t know, you always seem so uptight and stern around me. It’s almost as if you don’t like me. Do you like me, Shin?”

This was a trick question. He knew it as soon as she said it. There was no other reason as to why his crush would ask such an obvious question of him. Nevertheless, he nodded. “Yes, I like you.”

His heart beat erratically as she beamed. “Good, I like you too. So what’d you think of the food?”

How could he answer her? Why was she being so casual about this? Did she confess to having a crush on him too? Or what? What happened? What was he missing?

Shinichiro nodded, looking down at his half eaten food. “It’s good. Really, it’s just as good as you described it.”

“See? I told you so. I could live off of this food for the rest of my life and never get tired of it. Seriously the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” She sighed in utter contentment.

There was a knock at the entryway and both of them saw the stylist who was there to help her with her makeup. “Excuse me, Miss Y/n, but-”

“Yes, of course.” She nodded, setting her container down. Making her way over, she paused to speak to him. “It’ll only be a moment and then we can go.”

And with that she was gone.

Shinichiro could still smell traces of her perfume in the air. Though he was embarrassed to admit, he imagined it was what heaven smelled like. Shaking his head to clear the lovelorn poet from his head, he set to work putting the leftovers away and clearing the garbage. He knew she did have a maid to do these things, but he needed something to do to keep his mind occupied. He seriously needed to stop thinking this way about the starlit. This wasn’t Romeo and Juliet, where they were star-crossed lovers, never to be together ever. This was an unrequited crush that would put the job he cared for on the line. He needed to wake up and stop these foolish, lovesick teenage boy thoughts from manifesting into some creepy obsession.

After the cleaning was done, he found himself pacing in front of the door. He knew it wouldn’t take long, but he had nothing to occupy his thoughts or his time. The only thing he could do was pace. And he knew that would frustrate her when she would see him, but it didn’t matter at this point in time.

“Keep walking around in circles like that and you’ll make yourself sick from dizziness.”

Just like when she came to the dining room for dinner, his breath left him upon seeing her in the floor length evening gown, with a slit in the side that went all the way up to her mid thigh. The one strap was bedazzled to match the belt and was the same silver as her heels and hair clips. She looked like a goddess of beauty incarnate and all he wanted was to stare at her with hearts in his eyes all night.

But he scoffed at her words. “I think I’ll be fine. Are you ready to go?”

When she nodded, he turned to open the front door for her. However she quickly grabbed his hand, making him gasp lightly, “Wait. Do I look okay?”

Turning to her, he smiled a genuine smile of true affection. “You look breath-taking, as always.”

She smiled with gratitude. “Thank you. Really, thank you.”

Normally she wouldn’t say thank you twice, but before he could dwell on her words, she was already out the door and heading to the limo. After a quick shake of his head, he followed her and sat next to her in the car. The chauffeur drove them to the premiere, and for once the ride there was eerily quiet. He wanted to say something, just to break the tension, but he felt it better not to interfere. Every time he looked over at her, she was staring out the window, her head in the clouds. He didn’t want to break whatever concentration she had.

Before he knew it, bright lights were flashing and people were screaming her name. Even though Shinichiro was just her bodyguard and the screams weren’t for him, he was still caught off guard by them. He should be used to it by now, but he just wasn’t. He couldn’t imagine her being used to it either.

She took a deep breath, smoothing out the invisible creases in her dress. He could tell she was nervous, but he had no words of comfort to give to her. He wished he could say something, anything, but it seemed words escaped him every time they really mattered. And when she gave him a blindingly bright smile, his brain went fuzzy with static.

“You’re sure I look okay, right?”

He nodded, mustering up the courage to take her hand gently and give it a comforting squeeze. “You look absolutely perfect, I promise.”

She nodded slowly before taking another deep breath and stepping out of the car, into the bright lights, towards her future and away from Shinichiro.

And with a soft sigh, he got out and followed, always a few steps behind.

[benkeibear]

☰ 𝐈𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞

⧫ Character: Shinichiro

꒰ ͜͡➸Going back | ꒰ ͜͡➸Losing you

⧫ Reader: female | AFAB

⧫ Wordcount: 1.7k

⧫ Summary: Shinichiro and you have been childhood friends and you remained his anchor after what happened to Mikey. Will he get his happy end (with you)?

⧫ WARNINGS: manga spoilers

⧫ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi! (This is a repost from my old blog)

You kicked the rock for a fifth time in a row, frowning a bit when it went too far to the left as your Phone suddenly started ringing, leaving you confused as to why your best friend would call you shortly after you just left. “Shin? Did i forget something?” You asked curious, stopping dead in your tracks in case you had to go back but his sobs alarmed you. You couldn't make out what exactly he said through all the sniffing and crying, only understanding something about Manjiro and a hospital.

A shiver ran down your spine, knowing he wouldn't prank you with something this serious so you quickly made your way to the hospital on the other side of the city, your lungs burning from the exercise. Your chest felt tight when you looked up at the huge building, trying to steady your breath before you even dared to enter, a thousand thoughts swarming your mind. You’ve been friends with Shinichiro for so long, you knew his brother ever since he was born, you took over the role of an older sister and after the passing of his parents, you took on the mother role too for both of the younger Sanos. Mikey wasn't just your best friend's brother, he was your family too and knowing that he's a tough nut, you were quite concerned whenever he ended up in the hospital. A broken arm never let Shinichiro cry like this before so it must be bad - no. You willed these thoughts away, frantically walking up to the front desk “S-sano Manjiro. Where is he? I’m his sister” You lied, knowing they won't allow a stranger inside. The lady looked at you quite annoyed and turned her gaze to the screen, mumbling out a room number, followed by something you didn't quite hear, already making your way to said room.

As much as you wanted to just open the door and ask what's wrong, you knew it wouldn't be your place to do so. All you could do was wait, the hallway grew eerie quiet the longer you had to wait, all you were able to hear was machines beeping and an occasional loud sob coming out of Mikey's room. It was grandpa Sano who left the room first, followed by tiny Emma, both of their eyes red and puffy from all the crying. Quickly you handed them some tissues from your bag before getting hugged by one after the other, a strong hand resting on your shoulder after “You need to be there for him. Can you do that y/n?” the old man asked you in a weak voice and you tried your best to give him a smile “of course… I always am” You reassured him, pulling Emma closer again as she hugged your waist in a desperate attempt to find comfort.

When Shinichiro left the room you were shocked to see him this pale, his eyes completely empty as he just stumbled right past everyone, mumbling nonsense about needing to close the shop and change his life. You excused yourself from tiny Emma and went after him, holding onto his wrist to stop him from walking away and he immediately whipped around, tears threatening to fall as he looked at you with a mix of emotions before he pulled you flush against his chest, sobs wrecking through your ears yet again. With a tight grip you held your best friend close, feeling him shake uncontrollably as his tears stained your shirt but you didn't care, letting him cry as much as he needed to. He always had to be the big brother, the father for his siblings and it wasn't the first time he broke down like this… But something told you that this was different.

No words were exchanged between the two of you as long as the embrace lasted, only a soft “please stay” escaping his lips when he pulled back, wiping the stray tears away on the way to his bike you luckily knew how to ride. The silence was deafening the whole way to the Sano residence, growing uneasy because you still didn't know what happened with Mikey. Shinichiro didn't want to talk, looking like a shell of his former self when he laid down on his bed, leaving you to take care of him. This was nothing like the times you needed to be there for him before, unsure of what you could do you left his room to look for his Grandpa who just tucked Emma in her bed and wished her a good night. Once he was done he led you to the kitchen and made some tea for the three of you. “Manjiro… He won't- he fell down the stairs and hit his head, you know” he started with a frown and you knew that this talk won't have a nice ending, no one would be upset over a simple concussion. “He will remain in a vegetative state… His body is alive but he lost his awareness” he continued, fighting his own emotions back to try and be strong for you too but you took the kettle from him so he could sit down, finishing the tea for him as he filled you in on what this all means for mikey and everyone around him. “I will support you in any way I can, Mansaku, you're my family” You reassured the old man before thanking him for the tea, bringing it to Shinichiro.

He didn't move at all in the time you were gone, still on his bed and clutching his pillow to his chest. Gently you sat down on his mattress and placed the tea down on the nightstand. “Shin… I have no words to tell you how sorry I am” You whispered, carefully pushing some of his hair out of his face before freeing the pillow from his clutch and getting comfortable on his bed. “Come here” You cooed, helping him lay down on you, head resting on your chest so he could listen to your steady heartbeat. “Thank you” a weak whisper came out of the man you held close, letting your fingers run through his hair just the way he liked it, the other hand drawing random shapes on his back. Eventually sleep took over him and the soft sobbing ceased. Relieved that he finally was able to fall asleep, you stayed awake, holding him close and running your hand through his hair every time he stirred in his sleep to make sure he wouldn't wake up distressed.

It was around 4am when he suddenly woke up, sitting straight right away as his eyes were still full of sleep. “I- i will take care of him. I will study hard, work at the hospital and be his caregiver… I owe that to him“ he mumbled determined, a hand rushing through his hair. You could only sigh and pull him back onto your chest, feeling his ragged breath from all the stress he put himself under. “I will be right at your side, Shin. Help you study, take care of Mikey when you can’t - you’re not alone” you eventually spoke up, feeling his head shake in protest but you shushed him quickly. “You’re family. Mikey would do the same for me” you said sincere, knowing that if the roles were reversed, the Sanos would be looking after you as well so this was the only right thing to do.

This deafening silence fell over the room again, mentally preparing yourself for any argument he might come up with but when he finally spoke up you were taken aback by the venom and bitterness lacing his voice. “You don’t need to- i don't need your pity” he spat, getting up from your chest to shoot you a look that could kill but before you could speak up he continued. “Just- just leave like everyone else - every other girl” he mumbled angry but you saw right through it, cupping his cheek despite his protest. “Shin, I'm your best friend. I would never let you go through this alone, not even if you send me away. Mikey is like a brother to me” you answered, not caring if he wants your help or not, you would be helping Mikey after all. His shoulders started to tremble as his lips were pressed into a tight line, tears falling from his eyes despite all the effort he put into holding them back. It was this love, this unconditional love you held for him that caused the tears to spill again, not understanding how he deserved someone as good as you in his life or as his best friend. A soft embrace took him out of these thoughts again, feeling your hands gently draw circles on his back as his head fell to the crook of your neck, making this even harder on him. “I wish things would be different between us” he whispered, not intending to ever let these words slip out of his lips but there it was, the confession you always waited for… But in a different setting. With a sad smile you moved your head to kiss his temple like so many times before “maybe in another timeline or universe things are” you whispered heartbroken, not wanting to reject him too but this wasn’t the right time or place to be selfish and act upon both of your feelings and he knew.

Even though he understood, he still needed to say these three words, voice out how he feels just so he can say that he confessed, that he can rest easy. “But I love you… Always have. But I need to put Mikey first now” he eventually whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he felt his own heart shatter when a stray tear rolled down your cheek, understanding that you feel the same for him. If only he wouldn’t have been such a coward and confessed to you much sooner, if only he could turn back the time and let you know before all of this, maybe then he would have gotten a taste of how it feels to be more than just your best friend…

[eggtartz]

hiii!! i found your blog recently and i just loved your writing!! could i request shinichiro (or the 1st generation of BD) reacting his girlfriend/wife (whatever) doctor saying he lost a patient he was doing his best to help?? 😔😔 its okay if you can't, have a good afternoon!!!

a/n : did you know my favorite gang is the bsd first generation? did you, did you? well now you know nyehe, thankyou for requesting this anon im very passionate about the first gen of bsd 🫶🏻

: a lot of crying, reader feels guilty but tons of fluff

masterlist

shinichiro

- you came home from your work at the hospital, exhausted and sad

- you saw shinichiro on the couch, watching the television

- he tried hugging you while in your scrubs but you hugged him with hesitation

- "what's wrong honey? did something happen?"

- "no, it's just.. i lost someone today at the hospital and.. i did everything that i could shin. but none of what i did worked, the medications didn't worked either" you sobbed on his chest

- shin patted your head, and gave you a tight squeeze to assure you

- "you tried your best honey but everyone leaves one day right? maybe, his time is already up. you shouldn't say that. he might be in a less painful place right now you know?"

- "is he?" you hiccuped

- "yeah, and his last moments were with you so i think he just had his best life. you know like me? im having my best life too right now" shin grinned at you, making you laugh slowly

- shin kept patting your head to soothe your feelings until you fell asleep in his hug

takeomi

- takeomi is so BAD at comforting, even when you two started dating you were the one that asked HIM out because he obviously liked you but couldn't express it well

- so when he saw you crying the moment you came home, man..

- was flabbergasted

- panicking

- tries cooing you only for you to cry even harder (insert a very panicking takeomi)

- the only way you could tell him what's wrong was the next morning where you calmed down, where you mentioned how you couldn't save your patient

- takeomi didn't said a word except a lot of apologies "im sorry that happened", "im sorry they died"

wakasa

- he was lounging at the balcony when he heard the door shut indicating you came bome

- he wanted to ask how your day was until he saw your face puffy, eyes red

- he seemingly already knows what happened because this wasn't the first time you dealt with this but either way he told you to sit on his lap and to cry every emotion out

- "it's not good to bottle emotions up. cry it all out, im here. i'll listen"

- so he listened while humming and grunted when you hit his chest a few times out of frustration

- "you've tried your best, that's the only thing that you could do. you did your job well and im proud of you"

benkei

- he bought lunch for you but your assistant said you were still in the surgery room, handling a patient

- so benkei waited in your office with the lunch he already packed. you arrived about half an hour later

- "oh. they didn't made it didn't they?" benkei said when he saw your eyes, red. you nodded and sat on your office chair while covering your mouth

- "he begged to hold my hand keizo, and his grip.. then he.." you prolonged your sentence while trying not to sob, considering how you got more patients after this lunch break

- "hey, you tried your best. his time has come, there's nothing you could do to stop that. im sure he's happier now" benkei hugged you, his bigger figure over towering you

- "at least he's not in pain anymore and you did what you could. now eat my love, you still have many people depending on you no? you need strength and you'll get them now okay?" benkei pushed the bento box he packed to you while opening them

- the smell of the warm food comforted you, benkei was right. you did what you could and sometimes life has their limits

- so you ate rather with him in your office while having small conversations and him wiping your cheeks a lot

[rozcdust]

Messes you have created

Pairing: Shinichiro Sano x GN!Reader

Genre: Angst

Word count: 1.8K

Warnings: Canon divergent, ooc, profanity, derealisation, death, a child getting hurt, gore

Synopsis: You are the personification of everything he has ever done wrong.

Shinichiro met you on a day that smelled of burning thyme and juniper.

He never knew the future could be so bright yet bleak at the same time.

Looking around the train station, he knows what he must do, he knows how to save Mikey, he knows it all and he’ll do it, no matter what happens.

No matter the cost.

His eyes pass over you the first few times he looks in your direction, as you stand leaning on the wall, perfectly blending into the point yet standing out, one second seeming like part of the decor and the other like the only person in the entire station.

Shinichiro’s eyes seeing, but not perceiving, unknowingly searching for you but not realising it yet.

It is nearing 4 o’clock.

Shinichiro knows who he has to push.

He knows who he has to sacrifice in order to save Mikey, he knows the name and the face of the man he’ll bring like lamb to slaughter, all to save his brother, because it’ll be worth it.

It has to be.

He is waiting on the clock to strike 4, and in doing so, he slowly backs away from the tracks, into a wall of the station.

You stand next to him, looking at him in curiosity.

The businessman with the red polka dot tie has walked past him twice already.

The hand on the train station clock keeps ticking, but it seems to have gotten stuck between the seconds, moving only to be in the exact same place again.

The businessman walks past him again.

He blinks.

He must be going insane.

The clock is stuck on 3 hours and 56 minutes.

The hand of the clock keeps ticking between the 28th and 29th second.

The businessman walks past him again.

The person standing beside him is the only thing moving normally, as they reach inside the pocket of their jeans and take out a cigarette.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” You suddenly ask, curious eyes piercing through him, and he almost jumps from his skin.

“I’ve lived in this city my whole life.” Shinichiro smiles, his eyes still searching for the man he has to push as he checks the clock.

28. 29. 28. 29.

“That is not what I meant and you know it.” You state, eyes still boring through him, and if you asked Shinichiro today, he wouldn’t know what you looked like.

He has observed you well and stared you deep in the eyes and couldn’t even remember what your hair colour was.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” He finally asks, turning to look at your face.

He can’t even remember your face.

All he remembers is that pitiful, apologetic smile.

“Well, I am many things, but mostly those that keep you up at night. I am every word you said and wished you could have taken back and every lie you ever told you got caught saying.”

“Listen, I don’t know who you are, but your riddles aren’t helping.” Shinichiro felt irritation rise in his throat, his glare sharpening as his gaze switched from you to the time.

The clock still ticked.

It was 4 hours, 57 minutes and 28 seconds.

“But you do know who I am.”

“I don’t! Now let me be, I have more important shit to do.”

Taking a drag of your cigarette, you kept smiling.

“Ah, I’m well aware, Shinichiro. Saving your brother, Manjiro, correct? I can’t imagine there is any other reason you’re looking at that broken clock so anxiously.”

A shudder passed Shinichiro’s entire body, as he turned to look at you again, in horror.

You didn’t look threatening, but something deep inside, something animalistic and prehistoric, told him you’re the most dangerous thing he’s ever met.

“How-“

“I’m here to have a chat, Shinichiro, and then I’ll let you go on your merry way. Just a chat.”

Shinichiro knew he had no option but to oblige.

You let out the smoke from your lungs, and for a moment, all Shinichiro saw was gray.

The businessman passed him again.

“Okay. A chat. I can do that.”

“Actually, more of a warning, really.” You slumped down the wall, sitting on the pavement.

Looking at him expectantly, Shinichiro did the same.

“Okay,” He looked back at you, and without a thought, snatched the cigarette from between your lips, “I’m listening.”

You had another cigarette between your fingers faster than he could process it.

He was sure he has gone mad.

“Fate is a cruel creature, you know? She’s not a patient one, I’m afraid. If you want to take someone from her grasps, you have to offer a replacement.”

He sat in silence.

“Your brother Manjiro was mutilated, am I right?” You quirked an eyebrow, your gaze uncomfortable and burning a hole in his skin he couldn’t shake off.

“Not mutilated. He fell.”

“But he’s no longer human, no? He’s just a husk, waiting for death. Is that not true mutilation, Shinichiro?”

Shinichiro swallowed the ball forming inside his throat.

“It is.”

“And you want to save him.”

“Yes.”

“You know you have the balance the scales, correct? It’s an eye for an eye world out there, my dearest. A soul for a soul. A god for a god. A child, for a child.”

Shinichiro stomped out his cigarette.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know another child will be mutilated in place of Mikey, right?” You take a deep breath of smoke, and just for a second, Shinichiro could swear he saw the smoke leaving through your chest cavity rather than your mouth.

He has to be going insane.

“If you want, I can tell you who this child is. You know him. He grew up beside you. He’s a sweet boy, would grow up to be a fine man. He sees you as a role model. And you’re willing to mutilate him in exchange for your brother.”

Shinichiro shut his eyes tight, feeling the tears start to swell up inside.

Your tone wasn’t accusatory, and that was probably what hurt the most.

It wasn’t accusatory, it wasn’t malicious.

It was curious.

“I’m sorry.” Was all he managed to whisper out before sobs started to wreck his body.

“Uh-oh. This is sadness, correct? I can never tell with you humans. Your emotions are so complex, they can confuse me even after a millennium.”

Shinichiro looked at you, baffled, flinching away when your hand extended towards his face, softly wiping away the tears.

He couldn’t tell if the skin of your palm on his face felt freezing or scalding.

“What are you?” He gritted out finally, staring as you observed the wetness his tears left behind on his face in fascination, as if it’s something you never saw before.

You looked up at him, curiosity never leaving your gaze.

“I told you already.”

“You didn’t.”

“I’m everything that will happen, and everything that has not happened. I am the personification of events you’ll create, in order to save your brother.”

“Stop speaking in riddles.”

You shrugged, seemingly apologetically, but it felt faux, like an obvious lie making sense, and it dawned on Shin that maybe you truly didn’t understand the ache inside his chest, and why he had to do this.

“Haruchiyo will be the child you’ll mutilate.” Your tone was still soft, still gentle, free of judgement or disappointment and Shinichiro felt his throat close up.

“He-“ Shinichiro started, but you seemed to have read his mind, promptly cutting him off.

“He will not be mutilated in the way Manjiro is, no. He will still be able to walk and talk and be human. But he will be,” You licked your lips, seemingly in thought for a second, before you found the word you were looking for, “Scarred. Changed. He will never be the man he could have been.”

Shinichiro felt like he might cry again.

He wished this conversation would end and that the damned clock would move from 4:57:28 and that the moronic businessman would stop passing in front of him.

“Does Haruchiyo deserve that?” You ask, genuine curiosity in your voice, “Does he deserve to be mutilated more than your brother does?”

Everything you said sounded like a simple question.

There was no cruelty in your tone, no judgement, no way to indicate that you were trying to harm Shinichiro.

And maybe that’s what broke him.

“No, of course not!” His voice was a cacophony of sobs and whispers, “No child deserves to be hurt.”

Your curious gaze made him feel like an animal in an exhibit at the zoo, made him feel vulnerable and naked and mocked.

“Then why are you sacrificing him? He will be just one of many, you know?”

“Because!” Shinichiro wailed, now unable to control his voice, “Because Manjiro’s my brother! And I want my little brother back! I need him back! He deserves to live a good life!”

You said nothing, instead only lighting up another cigarette.

Shinichiro’s silent cries were replaced by full-bodied sobs.

The clock ticked to the 29th second before returning to the 28th.

“Oh, I get it now.” You suddenly exclaimed, seemingly excited, standing up to dust yourself off, “It’s love, isn’t it? That’s why you’re doing this? You love your brother.”

“Yes?! Isn’t that clear?!”

You merely bowed in apology.

“I’m sorry, Shinichiro. It’s just, I was never good at recognising human emotions. And love is the most baffling of all. It only consumes, asking for more and more and more and isn’t to love and be loved to humiliate and be humiliated, Shinichiro?”

You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you turned on your heel and left.

The clock ticked to 30 seconds.

Shinichiro pushed his human sacrifice onto the tracks.

“My, my,” You whispered, brushing the tangled and bloody hair out of Shinichiro’s face as he lay, dead and cold, “What a mess you have created, Sano Shinichiro.”

Here was your last spot.

The day Sano Shinichiro died, and you go back to someone else.

An amused voice spoke next to you, seemingly towering above you.

“A mess? You think this is a mess? Try this Takemichi guy I got. He’s about to change everything, even I’m not sure I’ll be able to clean it up.”

Your eyes drifted up to meet two hands, the kanji for Sin and Punishment greeting you before lazy amber eyes do.

“Ah, Shinigami. I didn’t expect you here so soon.”

“Well, this will be a busy job. You better get started cleaning up after that fella. I’m in charge now.”

Nodding, you merely smiled as the Shinigami brushed his leg against your back, already on his way out and leaving.

Sano Shinichiro has created a world in which the dead don’t die, in which the innocent get cut open and in which the Shinigami posing as Hanma Shuji wept after a human.

Truly, what a mess you have made, Sano Shinichiro.

🔖Taglist:

@1818cigarettes @nana-phobia @dilf-city @wakasa-wifey @rinsie @kisekihany @missarabellla @soushswag @bajifairyy @cryszus @r-xochitl @levistiddies @sanzucide @graythecoffeebean @yukihime-mikeys-girl @mukounisuru-gashadokuro @sunahyejin @crybabylisa @yamaguccitadashi @minoozi @trashmemebitch @frogtits1 @sup-zfam @whydohumansss @xashiui @bontens-whore @nqctre @anotherdeadendpath @lumi-does-some-stuff @hana-patata @hxked @erza-uzumaki @sh4nn @sisnot @nahoyas-nymph (in bold are those who tumblr won’t let me tag. my apologies!)

a/n: butterfly dividers ha?? 😃 get it?? because of butterly effect- i’ll take myself out🤧

[8aji]

tags/cw: hurt/comfort, mentions of major character death, based on this tiktok, peep the love actually reference at the bottom // wc: 300ish

After Shinichiro Sano died, you started to see hearts everywhere.

No matter where you go, you always find at least one. When you go grocery shopping, the cherries in your cart resemble teeny-tiny hearts. During your weekly outings with Wakasa—who, at first, had to practically drag you out of your house where you were cooped up for more than a week after it happened—you run into one particular graffitied wall with hearts sprinkled here and there all over the painting. When you pick up Emma and Mikey from school, the two always point out the heart-shaped clouds that hover over you.

Stickers on lampposts and electricity metres, little pebbles that stick inside your shoes, shiny balloons hovering outside a storefront, the coffee stain on your blouse. A puddle in front of your doorstep after a rainy night—you didn't see it there at first, noticing its existence only after your shoes got soaked, and instead of cursing the whole world for forcing you to change, a tiny crack of your broken heart managed to mend itself once you noticed the shape.

Hearts are everywhere and anywhere, and with their presence, you could feel your sorrows gradually melt away. Layer after layer, the faults within your heart become less and less prominent, until the only thing you could see were the sewn seams of flesh. 

It is comforting in a way. The more of them you encounter, the more you understand that the leaves and the flower petals and the cracks on the pavement, the shadows you cast as you pass by and sprinkles on the cupcakes your friends got you for your birthday when you felt like you couldn't get up. In every wiggly and wavy line—though sometimes they could look abnormally straight—in the dents and creases and slopes and strokes. He was there in every heart you encounter, keeping you company, following you almost like a lost puppy, like he did when he was alive. 

And as time goes by, and the less tangible your heartbreak becomes, you find comfort in the fact that if you look for him hard enough, you will find that his love actually is all around.

© 2022 SHINACHIRO ; Do not repost my work. Do not recommend my work outside of tumblr. Do not translate my work.

[g0kotta]

CIGARETTES

Shinichiro x gn!reader

Fluff to angst. Character death.

You always hated cigarettes. The smell, the concept - everything about them disgusted you.

Poor little Liddy used to always quit

But she never really quit

She'd just say she did

At the age of sixteen Shinichiro tried his first cigarette. He took it from Takeomi who already had the cancer stick between his lips. It was disgusting, he started coughing and tried to spit out the taste as much as possible. And when it didn’t work he tried chewing gum which Benkei forced into his palm. He bought a can of soda from a near by corner shop and stole a lolly pop from Wakasa. His friends laughed at him and Shinichiro swore to himself that he’d never smoke again.

“That’s good.” You smile at him as he sat in your bedroom after sneaking in through the window. “I hate cigarettes. They smell bad and I wouldn’t kiss you if you smoked.”

At the age of seventeen Shinichiro took his second cigarette, thinking things would be different. He stole it from Takeomi. He always had a pack of red Marlboro’s in his gang jacket. And since he accidentally left it in Shin’s room, he decided to try again. This time alone in the comfort of his own room. It was still disgusting. Shinichiro started coughing again and took a glass of apple juice that he already had prepared for himself. Though at that moment he decided to try and smoke the whole stick. Even if it meant he’d feel like vomiting.

“It looks cool.” He murmurs to himself. “I wanna be as cool as them.”

At the age of eighteen Shinichiro had a hidden pack of cigarettes in his room. He didn’t want you to know about him smoking. He thought you didn’t need to know. After all it was nothing serious. He only smoked once every couple of weeks, to look cool around the guys. He knew you hated everything about cigarettes. From the smell that lingered around people that smoked them to the fact that they killed people. “Anything can kill us.” Shinichiro once told you and you just shook your head telling him that he wouldn’t understand. And he remembered your threat about you not kissing him. So he decided to just keep this information to himself. After all what you don’t know won’t hurt you.

“Yeah I usually smoke in the mornings, outside my room.” He smirks at Benkei.

At the age of nineteen Shinichiro couldn’t hide the fact that he smoked anymore. The smell was always with him whenever he came over to visit you. It was stuck on his dirty white shirt, it was stuck in his hair, it was stuck on his hand and it was especially stuck on his lips and tongue when he kissed you. You pushed him off of you and made a disgusted face. “It’s gross. I don’t want to kiss you after you just smoked.” You sat further away from him and looked at the posters decorating your room. Shinichiro felt his heart break after you moved away from him after breaking your kiss off.

“I’m sorry. I promise I’ll quit.” He says before laying down.

At the age of twenty Shinichiro only smoked when he worked on bikes. Which was around once a week. You grew accustomed to the smell. Well slightly. You still weren’t a big fan and Shinichiro respected that. And you respected him by not being controlling and letting him do what he wants. The only rule was to not smoke before meeting you and while he was with you.

Mikey sat beside his brother watching him work with a big smile. “One day I’ll be just like you, Shin.”

At the age of twenty one Shinichiro smoked cigarettes way more often. He was stressed. He disbanded the Black Dragon and opened up his new bike shop. Of course it all went well, but he didn’t know when to stop. He overworked himself and spent almost all of his days there. You came to visit him some days when you had free time, but you had been busy working as well. After all the two of you wanted to start renting out a place together and you needed the money. You stoped bugging Shin about the smell of cigarettes and kissed him even after he smoked. The two of you were always working and you tried to cherish every minute you could be together.

At the age of twenty two you had already been living together. Everything was going great and the two of you couldn’t be happier. Shinichiro was living the life of his dreams with you by his side and he knew it was time for more. It was time to take the next step. He decided to buy you a ring and propose. With the help of his closest friends Wakasa, Takeomi and Benkei he found the perfect ring and they planned a perfect proposal. He swore he could feel his heart explode with excitement. You will finally become a Sano.

At the age of twenty three Shinichiro lost his life. It was tragedy which no one expected. And the fact that it was caused by his younger brother’s friends made the situation way more heartbreaking. A jacket which always hung in his shop, was given to you by his grandfather. And in the pocked you found something that you probably shouldn’t have.

You attended his funeral dressed in all black and with an engagement ring on your finger. “You’re Shinichiro’s girlfriend/boyfriend/partner right?” A guy asked. He was a member of the Black Dragon before it disbanded and you only met him once before. “No. I’m his fiancé.”

At the age of twenty four you became addicted to cigarettes, because only they brought you comfort. The smell reminded you of your dead lover and that was enough for now. You smoked when you were out with Shinichiro’s and now your friends, you smoked in restaurants, you smoked in parks, you smoked inside your own home. Whenever you needed to feel Shinichiro’s presence, you took out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes out of the jacket that was given to you after his death.

We'll find moonlit nights strangely empty

Because when you call my name through them

There will be no answer

Rather melodramatic, aren't you?

[ickymichi]

“forever?” “and ever.”

shinichiro sano x reader

warnings: angst, character death.

remember: gn! reader, blank and ageless blogs dni.

note: 2 angst song fics in a row what is wrong with reggie? nothing just like watching u all suffer 😈not proofread btw.

song: francis forever- mitski

ickymichi 2022. reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated. don’t repost or modify on this or any other platform.

“i don’t know what to do without you.”

you met him when you were 15. his lanky form came out of no where and suddenly you’re both on the floor, heated faces and stuttering apologies. after helping each other up he shakily introduces himself. “shinichiro sano. nice to meet you.” with 6 simple words, shinichiro sano had you standing in awe at his silly little hair and smile.

shinichiro somehow managed to work up the courage to ask you out, and fast forward 6 years he’s still a blushing and stuttering mess at times. but he’s yours and your his.

“i don’t know where to put my hands”

his hands were always your favourite feature of his. they worked day and night to fix the bikes he loves and they hold the cigarettes he shares with you whenever you need them. no matter how much he tells you they’re bad for you. on nights where you’d be cuddled on the couch or your bed, you’d find yourself running your fingers along his own and clasping your hand in his. the cold contrasting perfectly against your own.

“i’ve been trying to lay my head down, but i’m writing this at 3 a.m.”

shin could never sleep. maybe it was from the years of having to stay up with emma and mikey. or maybe the late nights he’d spend in the shop hunched over a bike. but one thing that would help him was feeling your head against his chest. running his hand atop your head. the comforting feeling of your arm wrapped around him. some nights as you were sound asleep, shinichiro would feel warm tears fall down his cheeks as he watched you peacefully. wondering how he has someone like you to care for him like this.

“…on sunny days i go out walking,”

the park just down the road from his house was your favourite place to go on summer days. a picnic blanket and basket on one arm, and you on the other. hours would be spent in the sun, talking of anything and everything. days like these were ones you cherished. every minute was one filled with laughter and happiness whenever you were with him.

“i end up on a tree lined street.”

it was an autumn day, the orange leaves cracking under your feet, stray ones nearly missing your intertwined hands. you’re both 23 now, your adult lives just beginning, ready to be filled with dreams and memories of each other. he’s been fidgeting with his free hand the entire time. after you ask him a final time if he’s okay you feel shinichiro let out a breath he seemed to be holding for a while. and as he does, shinichiro faces you and gets on one knee, the most beautifully simple ring sitting inside a box in his hand. you remember, he barely got to finish talking—spluttering even—before you tackled him the most love filled hug you ever gave your boyfriend, well fiancé. you pull away to look at him. “we’re gonna be stuck together now. forever?” he smiles warmly with glossy eyes. “and ever.”

“i look up at the gaps of sunlight.”

now, a year later on the same day. you find yourself on the same path. the one you’ve taken more times you can count in the past year. the sun was shining beautifully through the gaps in the trees, their arms bare of leaves this time. even with the sun, there’s the harsh wind that has you pushing yourself further into your jacket, searching for any kind of warm as you keep walking. you reach your destination and it almost seems warmer here, you smile at the sight of him.

“hi shin, it’s cold today so i mightn’t stay as long, i hope you don’t mind.” you take a seat and continue talking. “mikey’s gang? oh yeah, him and his friends still have that going. i can say, they’re all so cute with their bikes.” the wind blows once more. the harshness causes you to automatically close your eyes. when you open them back up it hits you. yeah, shinichiro’s here. but he’s not here, sitting in front of you, talking freely about his little brother and the weather. he’s 6 feet below you, where he has been for the past 3 months. he isn’t here with you planning your wedding with bright eyes. you’re sitting alone at your fiancé’s grave with the ring he gave you sitting coldly on your icy hands. it hits you. it finally hits you that shin it’s coming back, he’s gone forever and there’s nothing you can do about it but cry, scream and cry like you do everytime you come here. with your head in your hands you’re barely able to choke words out. words you hope he can hear, where ever he is.

“i miss you more than anything.”

[kesouu]

Imagine always visiting shinichiro's grave because you were always close to him but you never got to tell him that you loved him so much because he left so soon and now you will never know what his answer would be to your feelings and you start to wallow in sorrow thinking he probably didnt love you back but in reality when he was alive, everytime you were busy with something he couldnt help but stare at you lovingly because he loved you too and you were just so breath taking to see but you will never know that since he's gone for ever

About blog

[sleepskie]

Someone give Shin a break...

[ashieeeesh]

The night mikey died shinichiro just layed there. A part of him died that day. I also headcanon shinichiro with this song 🥹🫶 btw i love angst.

[benkeibear]

☰ 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮

⧫ Character: Shinichiro

꒰ ͜͡➸In every timeline (1) | ꒰ ͜͡➸Going back (2)

⧫ Reader: female | AFAB

⧫ Wordcount: 2.6k

⧫ Summary: Part 3 of in every timeline. After going back Shinichiro might have had you back at his side but fate had other plans for you.

⧫ WARNINGS: major character death

⧫ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi! (This is a repost from my old blog)

It's been months since Shinichiro saw either you or one of his friends, barely leaving his bed anymore, not even going to his shop anymore, the opening times becoming optional. Mikey rarely spent his days or nights at home either and no one seemed to miss him, not a single text reaching him in a week. It's like no one would notice if he just disappears, not like anyone cares anymore and after all - Mikey is safe so nothing will happen to him if he does it again, right?

When everyone was asleep he quietly went to his beloved bike, not bothering to put a helmet on when he started the engine, smiling softly at the sound, so familiar and calming. Despite it being well past midnight the streets were still fairly busy but he didn't mind, no one could see the tears stream down his face in this darkness as he sped past cars in snake lines, taking a wrong turn on purpose and before he had time to realize what was happening, his body went numb as it hit the floor. He smiled weakly at the scene in front of him, his bike completely broken as the car driver frantically tried to stop the heavy bleeding, seemingly coming from everywhere. With one last sigh he closed his eyes and smiled, knowing that he will see you once again when he opens his eyes. His body went cold and with a sharp intake of breath he opened them back up, just to stand in front of your door again, hand knocking on the hard material before he could stop himself.

The palms of his hands were drenched in sweat, happy but also scared to see you again. He will do it better, he will not lose you this time… But it wasn't you who opened the door, catching him off guard as he stumbled a few steps backwards when he was met with a small smirk of his best friend. “Baby, Shin is here” Wakasa called out for you, not inviting his friend inside. Baby? Since when does he call you that? Was he there the last time already? Maybe he's the reason you rejected him.

Seeing the way his friend wrapped his arm around your waist, a smirk planted on his face was too much for Shinichiro, having to leave the scene before you were able to say a single thing. He hated the look on your face, you looked scared like he caught you doing something you're not supposed to do. You weren't supposed to date Wakasa after all, you hated his guts for playing with women the way he did, so why are you in his arms now? The feeling of betrayal slowly started to settle in, having told his friends that you're off limits, that he can't handle seeing you getting hurt by one of them. Wakasa was like a brother to him, never having expected this from him - but it always has been this way. The women who rejected him crawled right into Wakasas arms, or rather his bed right after. Shinichiro believed that you were different, not falling for his false promises of love only to get your heart broken after he had his fun with you.

Once He got home he hugged his pillow close to his chest, silent sobs escaping when his eyes landed on the framed picture on his bedside table, a frozen moment of happiness, your bright smile right next to his and Mikeys, looking like a happy little family and it hit him like a train. You don't need to love him back. It sure hurts but at least you're still in his life and you're happy. Even if your happiness is caused by another man, he will learn to accept it, he won't take any moment with you for granted anymore. He's done it so long, hiding these feelings for you but he can do it forever and a day if it means he gets to see your smile and feel your arms wrap around him in a warm embrace. He would move a mountain for you if you only asked him to, all he needed was for you to be in his life.

Weeks passed and he came to accept the situation, supporting your decision and seeing you every day again, finally finding a reason to smile again, a reason to wake up in the mornings. While you were busy working he decided to pay his best friend a visit, letting himself in with the key he got so many years ago. The moment he stepped inside he blushed furiously upon hearing these noises… But aren't you at work? Curiosity took the best of him and he walked further inside the spacious apartment, eyes opening wide when he spots a woman bent over the kitchen counter, Wakasa pounding into her. “What the fuck, Waka?” He asked angry, not believing what He just saw he decided to leave, punching a hole into the wall on his way out.

Before he was able to reach the street Wakasa came after him, hair a mess and missing a shirt “wait up Shithead” he called out angry, a fist meeting his cheekbone. He didn't even bother to stop his friend, the purple haired man took it all, knowing he deserved it for cheating on someone amazing like you. “What were you thinking?” Shinichiro sobbed as he brought down another punch on his friends bloody face. “You promised not to hurt her” he continued, falling apart just from the thought of how upset you will be. Wakasa only groaned in pain, looking up at his friend with a small smile “she's all yours” he chuckled, spitting out some of the blood that pooled in his mouth. Disappointed with his behaviour Shinichiro left, leaving him behind like this, unsure if he should be the one to tell you or if you should know at all.

In his room he was pacing back and forth, not realizing for how long he was pondering the same question, if he should tell you or not, that he didn't realize just how late it got. A knock on his door ripped him out of his thoughts, swinging the door open with an annoyed sigh only to soften up right away when he was met with your tear stained eyes, immediately pulling you into a hug. “It's okay… Come in and tell me about it?” He whispered, kissing the crown of your head in a caring way before moving inside with you still in his arms, closing the door gently. It took you a while to calm down enough to leave the warm comfort his arms provided, handing him your phone to show you Wakasas message. “Thank you for opening your legs for me like a little slut” along with a picture of him balls deep inside another woman. It was his way of breaking up with you and to break your heart.

If it wouldn’t have been your phone he would have thrown it against the wall in a fit of rage but he deleted the picture along with the message and put it aside, pulling you into his arms again. “I’ll break his legs for this” He mumbled softly and you started to cry again, having loved Wakasa dearly, thinking that he had changed but every word, every promise of a future together meant nothing to him, carelessly breaking your heart.

Shinichiro carefully picked you up to carry you to bed, letting you be the small spoon as his arms wrapped around you once again, playing with your hair just the way you liked it. He didn't mind staying up the whole night if it meant you got to sleep, clutching onto the shirt he wore as if you were scared he would leave. Every once in a while when you started to get restless he pressed a small kiss to your temple, whispering a small “it's okay, I won't go anywhere” into your ear and it seemed to calm your sleeping figure down each time. His heart ached, knowing he only gets to hold you like this when things aren't okay, that you would never lay with him like this, need him like this when you're happy… But it's okay, you trust him enough, you trust him to be there for you at your most vulnerable, when your world is falling apart - and he would catch you in his arms every time you fall, he would always be there for you.

Morning came and you weren't in his arms anymore, silently cursing himself for falling asleep he got up, looking everywhere for you but you were gone, your phone still at his place and he understood that you needed some time alone, patiently waiting for your return or at least a sign of you but nothing came until Wakasa called him. “Get her. She won't leave and I don't want to hurt her” he mumbled annoyed, hearing things shatter in the back. With a sigh Shinichiro quickly made his way to his friends place, taking the plate out of your hand and looking around at the trashed place “it's not worth it. I know you're angry but this won't help” he whispered softly, leading you out as he gave his friend a glare, still angry with him. Wakasa knew he deserved it, not bothering to stop you from destroying his whole place, hoping it will help you to get over him faster. “I hate him, Shin… I hate him so much” you mumbled, looking down at your trembling hands, Shinichiros hands quickly taking yours “I know. I hate him too” he reassured you, leading you back to his place.

The look in your eyes concerned him, since that day it was empty. Your smile never reached your eyes anymore, your laugh never echoed from the walls again and he held you every night as you cried yourself to sleep, unable to do anything to take the pain away. The lowest point was reached when you started to become reckless, not caring about your own safety anymore and to his horror he heard the engine of his beloved bike purr up in the middle of one night, only able to see you drive away. The only thing that calmed him down in that moment was knowing that you were able to ride his bike, grateful that he gave you those lessons a long while ago. You might have known how to ride it but it didn’t matter, wanting to see the world blur by, you sped up as fast as the motorcycle let you, feeling yourself lose control over it the faster you went - but the lights were so pretty when they blurred past your vision… They were pretty when you hit the ground as well, small light orbs dancing around your vision as you grew colder under the night sky. Were the stars always this beautiful? You wondered, smiling softly to yourself. With a small chuckle you tried to move, trying to call Shinichiro, unsure if you succeeded before your body gave in, unable to move. The dancing lights turned to flashes of memories and you were sure that you're done for, after all, this was supposed to happen when you die, seeing your life go by. These memories… Were they memories? You saw flashes of Mikey in a wheelchair, sitting with you in a park with a tube coming from his throat…when? It went over to how you kissed Shinichiro and how he jumped off a bridge, seeing yourself reject his confession after, tears streaming down your face now. This wasn't your life. You had no memories of this ever happening, when did this all happen? The visions in front of you became darker before everything went black…Was this it?

When you woke up, your whole body felt like it was on fire, eyes fluttering open to look down at the weight in your lap. With effort you lifted your hand, resting it on Shinichiros head which laid on your lap, his hand holding onto your other hand. The movement woke him up immediately, bloodshot eyes looking up at you, tears of relief falling down his cheeks as he squeezed your hand gently, not daring to hug your fragile body. “T-they weren’t sure if you ever-” he sniffled, not daring to finish the sentence. With a weak smile you brought his hand that was connected to yours up to your dry lips, leaving a soft kiss behind on his skin. “I saw Mikey in a wheelchair… And you jumped off a bridge - it was horrible” you croaked out, tears starting to gather in your own eyes as you told him about the things you saw when you laid there, sure that you would die without ever seeing him again.

Unsure of how you were able to remember it, he started to play with your hair, telling you everything he did for Mikey and for you “...but somehow I can't do it right” he whispered, not trusting his voice as another sob raked through his chest. You hummed, grip on his hand loosening as you listened to the things He told you about these ‘timelines’, not believing a single word but it was nice hearing his voice when your vision slowly went black again. You were barely conscious enough to notice all the commotion around you, machines beeping louder and voices seeming so far away. Yet Shinichiros voice echoed in your head, time leaping, timelines, saving his loved ones… Maybe it was true, how else would you remember all these things? Before your body failed you, you heard his voice boom loud and clear “I promise I will go back and save you… I love you! In every timeline!” It was almost painful how loud it was, a ringing sound following soon after and suddenly it all went silent, a last breath escaping your lungs before your body gave up completely.

Devastated, Shinichiro sat next to your cold body, crying into the palm of his hands, not believing that he lost you again, maybe forever this time. This was worse than just losing you, this time he ended up killing you. He went back, he was the reason you now laid here, dead. With a shaking hand he reached out to feel the softness of your hair between his fingers one last time, letting his hand rake through your hair just like you loved it before he went to press a kiss goodbye to your hand but he never got this far…

The moment he held your hand he felt like his whole body got shocked, as if he got electrocuted, every fiber in his body on alert. As this feeling passed he found himself standing in front of you as you cleaned the ice cream Mikey dropped onto your shirt “looks like my shirt ate your ice cream, hm?” You laughed, handing him yours instead. This couldn't be, could it?

“Are you okay there, Shin? You look like you saw a monster” you said amused, stealing a lick of his ice cream and he realized that this is the moment he realized that what He feels for you is more than just friendship. This was 5 years ago on the day he realized that what He was feeling for you was love, it was the moment he realized that you were the one for him - and this time he will do everything right.