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the-eclipsed-luna · 1 year ago

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GET TF AWAY FROM ME NOOO 🧎‍♀️

From Student to Equal

Fem!Reader x Young!Hansu Seong • One-shot

Warnings: Disabled reader, mentions of violence, violence, age gap, cursing, the urge to punch a 5-year-old, sfw

Word count: 10k+

I parked the car about a block away from the tournament and waited. Without a ticket I couldn’t get in anyway, so I stayed inside my rental and played some local music.

Tournaments were fun to watch, and I have nothing against them. It’s just a little bitter for me, that’s all. I can’t help but be a little judgmental of some twelve-year-olds in martial arts uniforms rushing into the building… no doubt late. Some of those boys wouldn’t have time for a warm up; I snickered to think how their coaches would react. The music droned on for an hour or so. I read through a book I’d brought along with me from Japan. I suck at reading Hiragana symbols… but I tried my best to decipher the text.

It was about three fifty in the afternoon when I finally began unloading my things. I grabbed my crutch too. It made walking a little easier.

The walk to outside of the small stadium wasn’t far for the average person. I shut my car door and manually locked it with the key. My crutch leaned against the car and my bag was already slung over my shoulder. I limped aimlessly at first. Mindlessly window shopping and such. I cooed at a nearby cat, which unfortunately already had a collar. Even if my attire wasn’t out of the ordinary, I still felt out of place. A little naked, even. I subconsciously fretted over my appearance, even grabbing at an invisible belt at my waist. Force of habit. I waited outside the building for a bit. Eventually some contestants and parents began trickling out of the building. I suspected the tournament would be over soon. Some coaches and kids had probably stuck around to watch the pool of teenagers. There I was complaining about the wait and how chilly it was outside, when I’m sure the inside wasn’t very pleasant either. A warm, stuffy, sweaty stadium. No thanks. I had a scarf in my purse that I wrapped around my neck. A stranger offered to help me, but I assured her I was fine. I leaned the crutch against the building and all was fine. My hands were getting cold. Why were they taking so damn long?

Okay… I could be patient. Yeah. Really patient. It’s not like I had waited an hour or two… or anything. Patience. That was key. I sighed heavily.

The doors finally opened, and everyone left began pouring out of the building. I noticed a couple of kids walking out with metals and trophies. A smile traced my lips watching them ogle at the prizes. Hard work pays off. Kids are pretty cute.

My eyes snapped up. There he was…! A couple of his students and their moms trailed nearby. I smirked to myself and tucked the crutch under my arm.

I don’t give a damn about my social anxiety. after a while I learned no one cared.

“Seong-nim!”

He turned around, eyes reflecting his confusion. I beamed at him from afar. Watching Hansu’s face alight with recognition was fun. A tiny smile curved onto his lips. Although I moved to walk over, he excused himself from the others and approached me. I noticed his hair was shorter than it had been. He looked a little more mature, too. That was probably a good thing, although in his defense he had really calmed down those last few years.

“You should’ve told me you were coming—”

I use the crutch-pad to jab him in the shoulder lightly. It stops him from approaching any more. The gesture is playful. “That would’ve been no fun. How’d it go?” I smile, replacing the cutch under my arm. I tilted my head to get a better look at the group of kids I assumed were some students.

“It went well.”

“Be honest.”

“Some could’ve done better,” he admitted. I was waiting for his inner coach to shine through. At some point an instructor has to tell the truth. I knew deep down all Hansu wanted to do was be brutally honest.

I shrugged, beginning to walk forward towards the group of kids. “Yeah, ‘course.”

I was aware there were questions he wanted to ask. In my head I had planned to ask him out to dinner, but I didn’t want to pull him away from his students. I was pretty sure his kid had a bedtime too.

Hansu followed close behind before walking to my side. I was introduced to the four students he had brought to participate in the tournament. Only two parents were there. I leaned over to Hansu. “Where’s yours?” “Mine?” “Tae…? Taeyun? Sorry… what did you name hi-”

“Oh, Taehoon,” he adjusted his glasses. There was a pause. “Taehoon… is with a babysitter.”

“Oh.” I didn’t say anything else about it. I waited with him until all the kids had been picked up. My leg started to hurt at some point, so I sat down on a bench nearby.

“I’m okay, Seong-nim,” I assured him. He had a pained expression on his face, but I couldn’t decipher whether it was concern or just pity. I hoped not the latter.

He sat on the bench beside me. The kids were all gone, and not much of the crowd was left. I pressed my arm against his. Physical affection between the two of us wasn’t really practiced. I was happy to see him though, and I knew he could tell. He leaned into me. “How’s your leg…?” He asked, adjusting his glasses and glancing over seriously.

“I’m dealing with it,” I answered. “I’d rather talk to you about it some other time… maybe over dinner.”

I cringed at the thought that that sounded… bad. I looked over at him, leaning my head back.

“Of course I understand… you’re probably busy with Tae…?”

“Taehoon.” “Yeah. Taehoon.”

A silence flooded between the two of us. I continued to stare at him, feeling awkward and hoping I hadn’t brought up a sensitive subject.

“My son is sort of… special.” “Oh, I’m sorry Seong-nim. Down syndrome? You know-”

Hansu laughs, shaking his head. “No, not like that. My son is… like me.”

“A hoo-” I stopped mid-sentence. A smile played at my lips. “Come on Hansu. He can’t be that bad.”

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

I waited in my car that was parked behind his. Stationed outside the babysitter’s house, I warmed my hands by blowing on them. I had no idea how to operate the AC system in this rental car, so I decided to stick through the evening chill. I planned to tell Hansu the news that I was moving back to Seoul. I was sure he’d like that. Having someone, especially someone so close to me, nearby would help a lot. The years spent abroad had been rough. Money was pretty tight, too.

I hadn’t been back in Korea for a while. At least not in any big cities. I had been around a few different countries. Taking a break from… stuff. Moving around as a tourist was difficult with a crutch though.

Hansu seemed to be taking a long time. I narrowed my eyes as I stared at the front door. Faint voices drifted into my car, but they were inaudible for me to discern. after a few beats of silence Hansu came outside, followed in toe by who I assumed was Taehoon. I smiled in awe at the sight of him. Tiny tee shirt, cute sandals, dark floppy hair. Awkwardly I watched as the kid turned to his dad and started… yelling? Damn. That was harsh.

I turned on my car engine and honked a little. It made Taehoon jump and drew Hansu’s attention away from him. They clambered into their car and led the way back to their house.

Turns out my old Taekwondo master was still a crazy fanatic about his studio. He must’ve loved it so much that he couldn’t bare to move away from it. I shook my head and smiled as we pulled up to their building. My fingers clumsily grabbed my tote bag and crutch. It was always a hassle getting out of a compact car. Before I could even open the door for myself, it swung open. Taehoon (apparently this was Hansu’s offspring-?) stood on the other side of the door with a scowl on his little pudgy face. He let out a sulky groan. “Hurry up and get out-!” I blinked. Stated a little. “Sorry… right,” I replied dazedly.

I heard Hansu tell off his child for being so brash. He looked at me apologetically.

I slid out of my car seat and placed the crutch under my arm. I recognized the distasteful pity on Taehoon’s face. He seemed to shut up around me after that. As they led me into their home, I picked up on Taehoon’s grumbling about wanting to attend the tournament. He asked questions about who I was, too. For a kid that couldn’t be older than six, he sure had a mouth on him.

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

Hansu felt warm frustration bumbling under his docile facade. Taehoon had given hell to Ms Yoon, apparently. He had to apologize for this brat’s behavior once again. It didn’t help at all.

On top of that, Taehoon seemed incapable of learning manners. Watching him talk to (Y/N) like that sent another kind of warmth through Hansu’s body. That kid was hopeless. Who raised that brat anyway?

He was glad Taehoon was being quiet while he prepped their dinner. He panicked at first, thinking there wouldn’t be enough for the surprise guest. Turns out there was plenty.

“Here you are,” he smiled, placing the bowls down on the table. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say he was in a better mood than usual today.

“Thank you,” (Y/N) returned the smile. A beat of silence passed before she looked over at Taehoon sharply.

“What do you say…?” Hansu stared wordlessly.

Taehoon looked up at her warily. “What do you mean?” “Ah, Seong-nim. You weren’t kidding, he is a brat like you,” she said. Hansu had no idea how she could insult someone with such earnest sincerity. It almost seemed polite. A smirk flickered across his features. The fatigue wore off for a second.

Taehoon didn’t seem to like the comment. He furrowed his brows angrily and glared at the woman who sat beside him. “Say thank you, Taehoon.” It took a few seconds and a glare before he complied.

“Thanks old man.”

“You’re welcome”.

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

Taehoon was playing with his figurines on the floor while the adults drank tea. The room felt warm and comfortable. Homey. Hansu took a sip from his herbal brew, eyeing (Y/N) silently.

“So… how were your travels?”

She looked up from her daze. “Oh, fine thank you.”

Her politeness was expected. (Y/N) had always been polite, despite Hansu, as her senior, not being the best example. She glanced over at Taehoon on the floor, who was currently making his action figures collide. He made a few quiet grunting noises.

(Y/N) finally set down her cup and sucked in a deep breath. “Well, anyway. I’m sorry for keeping you in the dark Seong-nim. I just got back in Korea last Tuesday, and I’ve been busy moving into my new apartment.”

“Oh. Do you need any help unpacking?”

“I think I can manage for now, thank you,” she grinned. “The apartment is nearby… actually. I was wondering if… if you’re okay with it ‘course, if I could hang around the studio for a bit.”

“Is that okay?” Hansu asked, a furrow forming in his brow. His demeanor was all over the place. At first he was worried about her unpacking, then he was excited that she was nearby, and now…

“I’m getting over it. It’s fine.” “You’re sure?”

“I love being around your studio-!” She reached out to smack his arm lightly. Hansu felt a small tinge of bitterness, but he masked it with a smile. A warmth grew in the pit of his stomach; most likely it’s relief that she’s coped so well. She seems to regained complete trust in him. There’s no hard feelings.

Taehoon accidentally broke the leg off one of his figurines and asked for permission to hot glue it together. The adult conversation ended there.

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

“Seong-nim… are you sure his stance is correct?” I asked. Basking in the sunlight while resting in a chair, I watched dubiously as my former mentor conducted a Taekwondo lesson. The kids kept their gazes forward, but I could tell they were confused by the interruption . I didn’t mean any offense.

Hansu hardens his jaw and turns to me.

“Why do you ask?” “Check his feet.”

Hansu gently guided the boy’s legs into a better stance. Honestly the kid wasn’t wrong… he just wasn’t entirely right. Hansu looked up at me and smiled slightly. He still has a bit of an ego issue.

I nodded bashfully and grabbed my crutch, slinking off before I tested his nerves any more. The studio felt familiar. I appreciated the cushioning underneath my feet. Of course athlete’s foot was never a thrill but you had to pardon me for feeling some bittersweet nostalgia.

I could faintly hear Hansu giving instructions from the other side of the wall. The warm rumble of his words made my heart sink actually. Old words I had heard dozens of times. The basics of taekwondo. My eyes started stinging a bit. I tried to suck it up as my eyes glazed over some old photos in the entryway.

A hot tear began trickling down my cheek just as I heard a shout from upstairs. Immediately I turned to the staircase a few yards away, tilting my head. I thought no one was allowed up there… unless that was Taehoon. But he knew better than to cause trouble during-

“Taehoon what the h— what’s wrong?” I yelped on my way up the stairs, grabbing onto his arm with my free hand as he tried to run past. He glares at me, cheeks flared and eyes narrowed angrily. I just stare back.

“Let go of me. I gotta talk to dad.” “Is something wrong…?”

Taehoon yanks his arm out of my grip. “What do you care?” Even though his words carry some attitude with them, it’s hard to understand what he’s saying. He slurs his words together a bit. “Well your dad is busy… can I help you?”

Taehoon shakes his head defiantly. I sigh. This kid is a brat… actually. I thought Hansu had been exaggerating. I try to be patient though, trying to give the kid the benefit of the doubt. But…. Letting him interrupt his dad’s class was something I would NOT let happen. I clambered down the stairs to follow him. The two of us peered from the doorway into the studio, watching as Hansu conducted the class. The kids swung their legs to mimic their master. We watched silently for a few seconds.

Taehoon once again starts forward and I grab his torso, letting my crutch clatter to the floor. It doesn’t make loud enough noise to draw anyone’s attention, except for Taehoon. “Listen… kid-” I strain my whisper, pulling him back behind the wall. “If you don’t tell me what’s the matter I can’t help you. Trust me when I say you don’t wanna barge in there right now. Your dad will kill us.”

“Why the hell would he kill you?” Taehoon snaps, pushing his way out of my grip. Carrying him made my leg spasm painfully, so I oblige to release him. “Uh, because? He’s my senior. He used to be my teacher. He could do whatever-”

“-So you’re the bitch who ran off with another master?”

My heart sinks at this brat’s words, but I refrain from saying anything I would regret. For a second I feel hollow, and I don’t move at all. “Taehoon please don’t call me that, alright? Look. Tell me what’s the matter.”

“I’m bored.”

I feel my body swelling with heat. Angry heat, that is. Is he for real? I pinch my nose before reaching ahead for my crutch. Taehoon picks it up and pushes it into my hand.

“Are you… serious right now?” “You think I’m lying?” He counters. I really want to slap him. Spank him. Asian mom techniques. I’m not his mom though, and that would be totally inappropriate.

“You need to control that temper of yours,” is all I say. I grab his hand and stand upright. “Follow me. I’ll uh… we’ll go on a walk.”

It’s apparent that some sort of dark thought had crossed Taehoon’s mind. His eyes flickered down my body quickly. Sheepishly. He swallowed and nodded his head reluctantly.

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

The two of us had slipped out and made our way to some of the local shops. I bought some Advil at the pharmacy for my leg. I wasn’t about to admit it in front of the kid, but picking him up had really made it hurt. Honestly I was at a loss around kids like him.

How exactly do you explain a malunion fracture to a five… six year old anyway? You don’t… right? I sighed and grabbed hold of his hand, dragging him across the street. He digs in his heels. It earns a couple stares from strangers, so he cooperates.

“Alright. You still bored?” I ask. He shrugs his shoulders and glares at the floor.

“(Y/N). Why do you need that stupid stick anyway?”

I pause for a while to think of an answer. In the end I couldn’t think of anything that would make the pill easier to swallow. (For me, not him.) The words would usually get stuck in my throat when people asked me about it. I adjusted my grip on his tiny hand.

“I hurt my leg,” I say simply.

Taehoon falls silent as we walk closer to a local park. My crutch echoes on the sidewalk. It fills in the awkward silence.

“My dad said one of his students hurt herself. Did you guys break up?”

“Usually people say break-up… like- couples. Girlfriends and boyfriends-”

“I knew that!” Taehoon huffs.

“It’s okay to not know everything and be wrong sometimes y’know-”

“Like you dumping my dad?”

For the next five paces I walk in silence. Absorbing his words. He is a brat… but that’s true. He’s right.

“Yeah. I was wrong when I did that.”

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

Taehoon crashes in his bed midday. The walk and a visit to the park had wiped him out. I had to get Hansu to carry him upstairs while I collected some of my belongings.

I left to my apartment a few minutes later. The day had been pretty exhausting. I also had a resume to keep filling out. I had said bye to Hansu.

I needed to get a job pretty fast, but I was honestly hopeful. There’s a surprising amount of sitting jobs in Korea. Well, in my area anyways.

I was able to walk without my crutch in the apartment. The assortment of boxes that were left was kinda saddening, actually. I pushed some of the empty boxes out of the walkway before moving into the kitchen. Dinner would probably be something simple. I had learned plenty of quick recipes while traveling. Plenty. I began washing off some vegetables when the land-line rang. I let it go to voicemail the first time. A few seconds later it rang again.

I mumbled a curse and dried off my hands. “Hello?”

I wasn’t expecting Master Seong himself to be on the other line. “(Y/N) it’s Hansu.”

I leaned against the counter and adjusted my grip on the phone. “Oh. Hi,” a moment of awkwardness panic. “Can I help you?”

His sigh crackles over the landline. “Yeah. I was wondering if I could ask you a favor…?”

“Mhm.”

“You said you haven’t found a job yet, right?”

I furrow my brows, having forgotten that I mentioned that to him. Oh wait. Yeah. “Yeah, that’s right.”

He paused, “…I was wondering if you’d be open to… helping me?”

I was about to object. As much as I wish I could, tutoring Taekwondo in my condition would-

“With Taehoon.”

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

“I dunno… 10,344 won per hour seems kinda cheap. Especially since it’s your kid.”

“(Y/N)…”

“I’m just saying. You can’t stop bragging about how big of a brat he is,” I dig through some items in my purse.

Hansu cracks a smile and chuckles, “I don’t brag. Why would I brag about that.”

I shrug.

I always preferred it when my coach wasn’t so uptight. In all honesty Hansu had never been super hard on me… until I started getting a mind of my own, that is. He was more just… cocky. Had a bit of an egotistical “prove them wrong” and “you should win this” kind of demeanor.

I finally retrieved what I had been looking for. I handed Hansu the box of chocolates I had bought him. “Sorry… I wasn’t able to get you any red wine or anything.”

I walked away after a few more minutes of conversation to head upstairs. Teahoon was supposed to be studying on his own. I doubted that was happening.

“What’d you get for me?” Taehoon asks as soon as I open the door.

He’s sitting at a low table, using some crayons to fill in a Wrestler coloring book. Tiny white socks are tucked underneath his small legs covered in sweatpants. I inwardly think his fashion sense is kinda cute for a five-year-old. I remind myself of his potty mouth.

“Oh, were you eavesdropping?” I retort, but already I’ve begun digging through my purse.

“No-!” He glares over at me. There’s a bit of panic to his stare.

“It’s rude to eavesdrop, Taehoon. Try not to, okay?” The words feel awkward to say. It sounds like something a mom would say, which I definitely am not.

He doesn’t make any gesture of understanding or refusal. Instead he just accepts the lollipop I manage to pull out of the dark chasms of my purse. I sit down on the floor with him just as he’s finished unwrapping the candy, and in an instant he’s handing me his discarded wrapper.

“Trash.”

“Yeah. Trash.”

Taehoon looks over at me, the lollipop jutting into his cheek, his brows furrowed in confusion. “S’ trash.”

“I know. You got legs, right? You can use them,” I reply. I gesture down to my own legs. Frankly I can move if I want to… but my brain flashes me with three letters. W. T. F.

Taehoon crawls to the trash can in the corner, crawls back, and resumes coloring. I grab one of his coloring pages and begin coloring.

“Why is your leg like that?” He asks.

More questions. I glance down at my leg on the floor. It’s bent. Awkward and unnatural, it’s those funky proportions that have given me trouble for years. It’s not super obvious, but I guess to Taehoon it is. I keep coloring.

“I injured it.”

“Will that happen if… if I injure my leg?”

“No Taehoon. Your dad wouldn’t let that happen.”

We plan out what we could do this week. Taehoon wants to go to the beach, but I tell him that’s not likely this week. Maybe some other time. I opt to take him to the library on Friday. It really depends on how well he behaves on all the other days. (Maybe I’ll be decent at this babysitting thing.)

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

Hansu looks over at the chocolates waiting for him in the corner of the room. If he was right- which he probably was- then she got those from Japan. Chocolates… red wine? Apology gifts?

One of his kids kicks him hard in the shin. “Master Seong! Was that a proper kick?” “You’re still chicken-kicking, Jin. I saw you.”

The boy frowns, slouches, and returns to the back of the line. Another kid approaches to land a kick on his shin. The lesson ends a couple minutes later.

Hansu runs a hand through his hair as he walks over. It feels damp. That’s nasty to ladies, but he’s kinda proud of himself. His kids made him work up a sweat. When he looks outside, he notices (Y/N)’s car is missing. He’s betting she took Taehoon out. A touch of nervousness makes his stomach feel empty. If his son doesn’t behave… well… he doesn’t want to get any further from (Y/N).

The chocolates are, in fact, from Japan. It’s weird for him to think of all the experiences she went through without him knowing. He missed out on a lot since her accident. She had traveled, he was aware. But how long? Where? With who? He opened up the package. A small note fell out. As expected. It was an apology, although he felt like it was unnecessary. He should probably be the one apologizing, even though he wasn’t very good at it. The note seemed old, like a letter she neglected to send.

Dear Seong-Nim,

I’m only a few months into my travels, and I’ve wanted to write to you a lot. Sorry I haven’t kept in touch. Japan is really pretty like you said. I haven’t been contacting a lot of people so don’t worry- I haven’t been ignoring you. I wanted to thank you for putting up with me and being my teacher. You’re very good at it. I’m sorry if I’ve caused you any stress.

Right before her signature there was a line that caught Hansu’s attention. His brown eyes scanned across the words several times. He wasn’t sure what the lump in his throat was from- relief or anger? Either or. It didn’t matter.

The last line read: By the way, I’ve cut her out of my life- we don’t speak anymore.

He folded the note and moved onto the chocolates. At least, he tried to. Half way through eating them he couldn’t swallow. He gripped the side of the table.

A few minutes later he was sighing to himself. Having a temper tantrum was actually embarrassing- luckily no one was around to witness it. He scooped broken clay off the ground, disappointed that he had broken a nice vase. The room was dark and quiet, save for the clinking chips of pottery that he swept up.

The front door opened and Hansu was still cleaning up his tiny mess.

“Oh, what happened?” (Y/N) asked immediately. She stood in the doorway, holding Taehoon’s hand, weighed down with a tote bag.

“Accident,” he replied, adjusting his glasses before standing. “How was it today?”

Taehoon slipped out of his shoes and walked towards the gym area. “It was fine. I did the monkey bars all by myself though.”

The kid said it with a bratty touch of pride that Hansu didn’t fully approve of. (Y/N) gave Hansu a look. For a second he wasn’t sure what she expected him to do.

“It’s his first time doing it by himself you know~” she whispered. Hansu stared. No… he didn’t know. He had no idea. He stared at her a little longer than necessary.

“That’s great, Taehoon.”

“I know!”

“Taehoon-”

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

She had gone home. Taehoon went to bed. Hansu stayed wide awake.

He turned on the TV and absently watched whatever was on. It didn’t matter what the show was. He needed white noise in the background to think. (Y/N) said Taehoon behaved today. He was glad to hear it. He wanted to smile actually. There was something about the two individuals he was proudest of clicking that made him happy. He realized though that he didn’t know her quite as well as he had. She seemed like a different person. A stranger who he had old history with. The new (Y/N) was independent. She was thinking for herself again. She was better at parenting than he was, believe it or not.

The TV relayed ads for the upcoming Olympics. Hansu would love to compete. Had been training pretty vigorously. But… he wasn’t going this year. He would probably never go. Maybe if things were different, he’d be participating this year as a trainer. A coach. But, he didn’t nip at the bud and now her leg would never be the same.

He found himself tossing and turning in the couch, running a hand down his face. He was so stupid.

His student was gone anyway. (Y/N), he affirmed, was different now. She had the same blunt, snarky, yet sometimes polite charm that she always had. She was still quiet sometimes… around him mainly. But she was thinking for herself. Speaking up for herself. Talking to him less formally. Teasing him more frequently. Maybe it was because she wouldn’t get in trouble now. Maybe it’s because she wanted to lessen the tension between them.

He honestly didn’t mind. Whatever tension was there he wanted gone. He had missed his student, and now that she was back, he realized he’d never get her back. He’d never get his best pupil back. Maybe just… an equal. He wasn’t superior anymore, at least on a maturity basis. She was just as adult as him now. He was just… still… wearing a Taekwondo uniform. And she was probably never going to wear one again.

That night every snap set him off. Every woman’s voice outside grated his ears. Even the damn clock set him on edge. He ended up taking some sleeping pills and crashing on the couch.

He was relived he no longer had lucid dreams. Otherwise he’s probably wake himself because he dreamt of Taehoon’s leg breaking.

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

I took Taehoon out several times over the week. We ended up sitting a lot on one of the days early on, which he wasn’t too happy about. I sucked up telling him off, because it once again struck me as awkward, but he got in trouble with his dad about it.

I realized that I had been too hopeful about going to the library. Maybe in a month. Taehoon just didn’t seem interested. Instead we focused mainly on going to the playground so he could horse around on the monkey bars. (He had started just calling it a jungle gym so I agreed to call it that too.)

He had gotten really good at the monkey bars. I challenged him to tackle the tiny rock wall, but I guess he’s afraid of heights. It made me laugh a little. I took him to get icecream so I didn’t hurt his feelings.

We walked by a koi pond which he liked. I told him we could make it our routine. I also took it on myself to make sure he had the alphabet down. I told him if he learned the Korean alphabet, AND the Japanese alphabet, then I’d take him to a theme park. I didn’t have much faith in him, but his determination worried me.

Eventually I hit the two week milestone. My pay was coming in alright. I felt kinda bad since I knew Hansu so well… but his studio was thriving by my standards.

Taehoon grabbed my hand and tugged on me. “(Y/N), why don’t you use a wheelchair like old people,” he pointed to a handicapped sign. I frowned.

“Well uh… for one I’m not that old am I?” He crinkled his nose at me, but I could tell it amused him. He was pretty easily amused. “And anyway. I like my crutches better. My injury is fixable, I just-”

“Why don’t you fix it then?” He interjects.

“Don’t interrupt, please,” I force the politeness out. Sometimes I really wanna rip out a tuft of his hair. “Uh you know. Money. Things are expensive. Surgeries are expensive.”

“Dad said you just broke your leg though?”

“Yeah. It was a pretty nasty. It didn’t penetrate the skin, but the bone-” I realized he wasn’t understanding. “Uh yeah. It broke.”

“Why didn’t you fix it right away? With a cast?”

I stared ahead for a while to get her my thoughts and think of a reply. Some dirt got in my eye I think. I had to rub them till I covered up my tears.

“Uhm… not right now Taehoon.”

I can’t run away from my problems. I can’t even run at all. My grip on his hand loosened and pretty soon we were separated. Taehoon walked ahead a little and tried to pet a stray cat.

I hung back. That kid really asked these direct questions. They were questions that strangers had hinted at when striking up a conversation, but I could easily avoid them. It’s just… he didn’t sugarcoat anything. Like me I guess. I just hadn’t talked about it in a while.

To be honest I wasn’t sure if Hansu would approve of me sitting his kid on my knee and telling him, “You see, when I was younger, I was a gullible idiot who trained with two masters and listened to the stupid Russian lady instead of your dad. She’s the reason my leg is messed up.”

I declined staying for dinner. I think Hansu could tell something happened recently. I was a little mad at myself for letting that bother me. Taehoon didn’t do any wrong really. Curiosity isn’t a crime.

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

“Curiosity isn’t a crime,” she muttered, wrapping her ankle one more time. Hansu vigorously ripped off the tape for her, casting her a sharp look.

“Yeah… it’s not,” he blowed through his nose heavily. Control your temper, he mused. “But I don’t see why you would be curious. Aren’t I doing just fine as a teacher?”

“Yeah. You’re a great teacher. It’s just… if I wanna become a professional I’m gonna have to be open to other coaches and different techniques.”

“It’s all the same technique.”

“Teaching technique. No offense to you, Seong-nim,” she clarified.

Hansu rose from the floor and backed away from her. Something stung. He looked down at her as she reached for her toes and stretched. The black belt that hung around her waist was no joke. He helped her earn that. He taught her all that. And now… suddenly… his prime pupil wants to “expand her horizons”. Whatever that means.

(Y/N) looked up at him and smiled slightly. “Besides. I don’t want to embarrass you in front of that volleyball player.”

“Let’s not talk about that,” he prodded her with his bare toes and walks away. “Come on. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

He heard her rise off the floor mats and pad after him.

“You’re Hansu Seong?” A thick Russian accent. A pretty, yet worn face. Athletic. Intimidating. Hansu grits his teeth and squares his shoulders. He nods.

“I’m here for (L/N).”

“I don’t normally let my students walk home with strangers.”

“I’m not a stranger to her,” the lady crosses her arms. “And I shouldn’t be a stranger to you. If ve are to be vorking together.”

(Y/N) had handled it maturely. She explained it like an adult. Yet, Hansu worried. And he fretted. He even admitted to her that he felt betrayed.

“Ah, Seong-nim. You’re turning green again,” she said straightforwardly. A tiny smirk overtook her face. He wanted to laugh, but didn’t. “(Y/N). I’m serious.”

“I think having double input is helping me. I think you know it too. Please, please Seong-nim. If I preform bad this next fight I’ll drop her.”

“You know you’ll preform well,” he sighed. It was a fact. It had nothing to do with this new Russian coach and everything to do with his faith in himself and her dedication.

“Thanks.”

“Just take care of yourself. Do all the stretches I told you about.”

“You know, Vera tells me to take care of myself too. I promise, I’m not slacking,” she wraps her arms around Hansu’s torso.

Despite the warm pride that glowed inside him, he stills felt apprehensive. Returning the hug to his friend, he told himself over and over again that he’d have to accept it. (Y/N) was growing up. If he didn’t pick up the pace, she might grow up without him. Reach the top without him.

“No. Absolutely not. I hate UFC fighting,” Hansu said. Firmly- his voice didn’t shake at all.

Vera turned lazy blue eyes over to him and furrowed her brows. “Seong, what are you talking about? Almost all of my students compete with a different martial art. Otherwise she gets no street knowledge. It helps.”

Hansu never wanted her to have street knowledge. She was training for the sport of Taekwondo. Even if he felt the sport was so much more… it was important to him that she still saw it as a sport. That’s all it had ever been to her. That’s what he prepped her for. Not a street fight. And definitely not a fight where she was guaranteed to face off against some exotic martial art.

“Well maybe instead I could enter a MMA tourn-”

“No,” Hansu interjected again. He tried to ignore the slightly offended looks the girls were giving him. “I didn’t train you for that. You wouldn’t be ready at all.”

“Which is why I would train her,” Vera stated slowly. She leaned on the table and sipped her soda. Hansu glared. He wasn’t sure how to convey his thoughts to his pupil properly without that snobby Russian lady adding in her two cents.

“Seong, you are a man. I’m a woman. I know we’re both very good at Taekwondo, but I think I might know what’s best this time. Maybe this should just be a girl thing. You can stay behind.”

He slammed his hand on the table and excused himself. (Y/N) called him later to say she made up her mind. She would train for a UFC fight. She wanted his help, too.

He didn’t sleep that night.

“That is four wins in a row now,” said head trainer Vera Gusev over the noise of the crowd. She leaned over to Hansu. “She is doing good, no?”

Hansu nodded, adjusted his glasses, and handed her the extra water bottle. “Make her drink more water. I don’t need her dehydrating.”

“You mean I don’t need her dehydrating,” Vera shot. Hansu felt like kicking her.

He felt like he had hardly sat down and he was already standing. This whole environment set him on edge. He didn’t know why.

Bright lights illuminated the ring where (Y/N) stood. She was beginning her next fight. Judo verses Taekwondo.

“Tap out!”

This was his worst nightmare.

“Tell her to tap out!”

This is exactly what he feared would happen.

His eyes were fixated on Gusev until he heard a crack.

The other woman released her grip immediately. (Y/N) was left as a heap on the floor. Hansu’s hands shot to his hair. His body felt numb.

“Promise you’ll get it checked out. Gusev. She needs a doctor. It needs to be checked out,” he pleaded. Insisted. Begged. Everything was so tight and crowded. Maybe his voice was drowned out by the noise. He watched the Russian escort her student away.

Of course the tournament was in Japan. Hansu didn’t speak the language well. Neither did (Y/N).

Why were neither of them answering the phone?

Why was (Y/N) still listed in next month’s tournament overseas?

He thought they would be on the return flight home. They didn’t meet him at the airport. His visa nearly expired by the time he got on a plane to Korea.

“Her leg was broken,” Hansu said into the phone. “Wasn’t it?”

There was a pause before a thick Russian sigh. “Yes,” answered Vera.

“It was a spiral fracture. We didn’t catch it till-”

“Are you f^cking insane?” Hansu spat. He never wanted to throw the phone so badly. “It was broken. You sick bitch. You could tell it was broken!”

Vera just cursed on the other side of the line. “She wanted you to know. Goodbye, Seong.”

The phone was thrown across the room. The sandbag in the studio was ripped. A girlfriend was called and info dumped.

Yet… Christmas cards were exchanged. Hansu’s was of him and his pregnant fiancée. (Y/N)’s didn’t include a picture.

“It healed improperly,” (Y/N)’s voice rang over the phone. Like dull music that didn’t quite hit the right note. Hansu leaned into the couch and furrowed his brows. His son began crying in the background.

“What… does that mean?” He asked.

“Oh. Uh. Well… Seong-nim, they call it a malunion fracture,” she explained. He could hear the brokenness in her tone.

Sohyun called for him to help with Taehoon. He had to hang up.

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

“Thank you Hansu! Dinner tasted really good,” (Y/N) praises. She pats his hand that lays on the table affectionately. Taehoon looks up from his plate.

“Yeah,” he mumbles in agreement. His nanny cast him a sharp look. He straightened up and repeated himself a little louder.

Hansu smiled as he cleared the dishes. His little family was happy. “(Y/N), if you want to spend the night you can. I hear it’s going to rain.”

“Oh, no thank you! I didn’t wanna be a bother,” she leans back into her chair and holds up her hands.

“You’re not a bother-!” Taehoon counters loudly. He stands on his chair and swings a feeble kick towards (Y/N). She deflects it and yanks him into her arms.

“He’s right,” Hansu calls over his shoulder. He feels a touch of color rising to his cheeks as he says that. It feels weird. The warm water washes over his hands as he scrubs at the dirty plates. Taehoon’s indistinguishable voice can be heard over the running water.

“Dad-!” He shouts.

Hansu turns down the water and looks over his shoulder, “Hmm?”

“Make (Y/N) stay over.”

Hansu laughs and turns back to the dishes. More heat in his cheeks. That brat is kinda embarrassing sometimes (maybe he should invest in a muzzle). “She’s invited.”

“Aw, I’ll feel like I’m intruding the bachelor pad,” she says.

“What’s a bachelor pad?” Taehoon quips.

He crashed as soon as his head hit the covers. It left Hansu alone with (Y/N). He wordlessly stared at her as she closed his son’s bedroom door. She caught onto this and made eye contact.

“Hansu, y’know it’s rude to stare. No wonder your kid has bad manners,” she chuckled. Hansu moved to cuff the back of her head but ended up just caressing her neck.

“Your mouth got bigger.”

“Yeah. I still think Taehoon talks more than I do,” she crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. There was a moment of pause. “…It’s uh- getting kinda hard to keep up with him. Maybe you should… let him take up a sport?”

“He wants to do taekwondo,” Hansu admitted, “I just don’t have the time to have a one-on-one lesson with him.”

“C’mon. He’s a natural athlete. He destroys the monkey bars-” Hansu laughed but she continued, “-I’m serious! He’d be a great student and you know it.”

“Yeah. Believe me, I’ve given him lessons before. He just gets ahead of himself. He’s got a kind of got a kind of his own you know.”

She nodded understandingly. It seemed to him that his son was almost the perfect embodiment of (Y/N) in the past. Presently she stood upright and unfolded her arms.

“Well, Hansu— ah, Seong-nim. I don’t wanna tell you how to parent…. But can you help me to my room?”

“Oh, yeah,” he offered her his arm for support, which she accepted. His arm felt cold when they finally released each other.

He opened the door for her and flicked on the light. He made some small talk.

“You seem to get along with Taehoon well. Have you been taking him to the movies? You still like the cinema, right?”

“Oh, yeah. I think we’ve seen one together- a month ago?” She chuckled, “I didn’t know you remembered.”

“Of course I remembered,” Hansu said. He placed some fresh blankets on the bed. “You were a big movie fanatic your senior year order high school.”

She walked over to the bed. Hansu found that, while he had trouble keeping eye contact, (Y/N) seemed to always be trying to catch his gaze. She leaned down to catch his eye until he finally caved and looked at her.

She said nothing, just straightened up and smiled. “Well thanks for letting me stay.”

“You’re always welcomed.”

She limped to the bed and sat down in the mattress. Grabbing onto his arm, she caught him just before he turned to leave. “Hansu… please consider teaching Taehoon?”

“Okay.”

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

I tried to remain opened minded and not let myself become frustrated, but it was getting more and more difficult. Taehoon, standing bare foot in the playground sand, dressed in spring-time clothes, stared at me with eyebrows arched angrily and eyes narrowed.

“I wanna learn kicks.”

“You can’t until you get down the footwork,” I counter.

I sit a few feet away from him in the sand, Legs extended before me, wearing sandals and yoga pants. I lean back on my hands. My crutch is tucked away behind me.

A couple younger kids played on the swings across the playground. Taehoon and I had the sandbox to ourselves. I currently was indicating to him that he should adjust his stance.

“You’re gonna want to keep your weight centered and not lean too much one way or another, okay?” I instructed.

The five and a half year old just glared at me even more, let out a very sassy huff, and shuffled his feet into a correct position.

“Don’t back talk your tutor, Tae.”

“Okay (Y/N).”

I was proud of him. His manners were getting better.

As we walked to the train station my legs started bothering me. Taehoon grabbed my hand and ushered me to a bench. I ruffled his hair and told him what a gentleman he was becoming.

“Mom!” Taehoon pointed across the street to an icecream store. “I mean- (Y/N). Wait-”

He crossed his arms over his face in embarrassment. Tiny hands grabbed at the roots of his dark hair.

I laughed and ruffled his hair. “It’s okay Tae. Maybe we can get icecream… if you show me twenty jumping jacks.”

He sprung right off the bench.

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

Silly as if sounded, I felt like I was maturing backwards. I thought I had overcome my faze of trying to impress other and people-please. Turns out the symptoms were returning when it came to good old Master Seong.

As I sat on the sofa in my apartment, reviewing a movie to watch with Taehoon (to make sure it wasn’t inappropriate) I envisioned myself impressing Hansu with my tutoring skills. I still had my Taekwondo skills- enough to teach his son at least.

The thought vanished from my mind as soon as it came. It made me pause my movie and laugh into one of the decorative pillows.

“Oh god…” I mumbled, trying not to smile. “That’s so stupid!”

I waddled to the fridge and ate some ice cream. I a couldn’t help but notice that my leg hadn’t bothered me at all today. I figured I could look into an osteotomy surgery. If I was gonna settle down in Korea - with a stable job - then it was something I could save up for. The phone rang and I answered it, setting aside the half-eaten tub of ice cream. It was from a job I applied to.

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

“Hansu, would it be okay if I took Taehoon to the beach?” I asked. I sat on his kitchen counter as he helped me wrap my leg with some gauze.

He adjusted his glasses and looked up at me. “The beach? Not the movie theatre?”

“No changing the subject, Mister Seong,” I ruffled his hair. It was kind of an accident- or force of habit. He playfully grabbed my hands and brought them to his mouth.

“I just thought there were movies out you two would want to see-”

“Nope. I promised I’d take him to the beach.”

Hansu quirked a brow doubtfully, “Is that really okay? It’s a long trip just to stay there for a couple hours.”

I nodded and smiled cheekily. “That’s why I thought…. You could… come with us?”

He laughed and shook his head. He kissed my hand affectionately… and I hate to admit that I was disappointed when he pulled away. He looked a little cocky. It was an expression that I hadn’t seen him make in a while. “Sure.”

Adorably tiny flip flops were slipped onto Taehoon’s feet- by my charming self. I unfastened his seatbelt and reached to scoop under his arms. Meanwhile Hansu rummaged through the trunk.

“Wake up sleepy guy. We’re here,” I whispered, pulling Taehoon upright. He lethargically runner his eyes, still not very alert. I pressed a tiny kiss against his temple to wake him up more, knowing he’d wipe it off in disgust. Sure enough he did just that.

“Ew… (Y/N)…” he mumbled. I could’ve swore I saw him resisting an embarrassed smile.

”Come on. Beach time!”

Suddenly he was wide awake. He jumped out of the car and darted towards the sand. I hobbled after him.

Hansu’s arms scooped around my waist as he hoisted me in the air and over his shoulder. My stomach hurt from laughing as I watched Taehoon run up to his dad and try to push him over.

The waves were cool but bearable, and the current wasn’t strong. I was finally set down and walked up onto the shore for a break. Thankfully I hadn’t gone insane yet- I still thought the beach was for playing in the water only. Not for sitting in the sand. (Except to be honest sitting in the squishy wet sand felt way better for my leg.)

Taehoon rushed over to me a couple seconds after I sad down on the towel. His teeth chattered as he asked for a snack.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Does your dad want any?” I ask, handing him a wipe for his hands. He asks me to pour some water on them to get the sand off.

“I dunno. Dad!”

Hansu starts walking towards us.

I hand Taehoon the box of pocky he had been asking for. I wrapped a towel around his tiny shivering frame.

“You want anything to eat Hansu?”

“You’re pretty comfortable just calling me by my first name now, huh?” He comments, accepting the snacks I was offering him.

“Oh. Sorry. Great, wise, sagacious Seong-nim.”

“Sagacious?” Taehoon asks.

“Yeah. You’ll have to look it up in a dictionary with your dad later.”

“I know what sagacious means,” Hansu scoffs. He wraps a towel around himself and shakes his head.

“No you don’t dad. You’re dumber than a b-”

“Taehoon,” Hansu interjects sharply. He doesn’t say anything more, and I can tell whatever apologies Taehoon will give are pretty much worthless.

“Show him your footwork first,” I chime encouragingly.

Taehoon nervously move into the position he thinks is correct. It is. He’s annoyingly good at picking up those sorts of things.

Hansu watches with arms crossed and eyebrows drawn together. I sit beside him and smile Taehoon. The five-and-a-half-year-old (he insisted that was his age) displayed a couple different footwork steps I taught him. He even dared to preform a front kick, even though it wasn’t perfect last time we practiced. He nailed it.

“Who…”

“(Y/N) did,” Taehoon interrupted before his dad could continue. “She’s my tutor.”

Hansu looks over at me skeptically. I avoid looking at him by instead keeping my gaze trained on his son. Taehoon looks a little too proud for my liking.

“Do you actually listen to (Y/N) though? Or do you talk back?” Seong-nim finally asks. His son’s expression becomes a little flustered, and he looks to me for an answer.

“He’s usually behaved. Right Tae?”

He nods enthusiastically.

Which is how I convinced Hansu to teach his son Taehwondo. The end.

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

“(Y/N)! Come on the swings with me!” Taehoon demands. I sometimes wish he was nonverbal. That way I wouldn’t have the moms sitting nearby staring at me.

“Not not Taehoon,” I reply quietly. He’s getting too big. I secretly doubt I can keep up with him for much longer.

He scuffs his feet against the ground until he swings to a stop. I watch silently as he dismounts and shuffles over to me.

“Please.”

I sigh heavily. He sounds so sincere… but my leg hurts so badly. Reluctantly I grip the side of the bench and stand upright. The sound of whispering from the other seats grates my ears. I take Taehoon’s extended hand and walk - with difficulty - to my seat.

I’m getting a little slow for him I guess. That’s what onlookers think, anyways.

His little cheeks burn pink to the point where I almost feel bad, even if he is just embarrassed for my sake. I honestly don’t G-A-F. I cast a casual finger over my shoulder at the moms and sat down on the swing. I was sure Taehoon hadn’t seen me. He flipped them off as well.

“So what did happen?” Taehoon asks. He stares at me sincerely as we sit in the park. I pluck at the grass and sigh. My eyes no longer sting. I don’t feel as awkward, although I know that the words will still choke out of me with some difficulty.

“To my leg?” It’s kind of rhetorical.

“Yeah.”

I grab more strands of grass aggressively. “I broke it in a tournament. UFC. We were traveling in Japan, and I lost contact with your dad. My coach and I didn’t get it checked it out… so it got worse. Eventually it healed incorrectly. They call it a-”

“—Malunion?”

“Have you been eavesdropping on your dad?” I shoot him a sharp look. He ducks his head sheepishly and nods.

“Well, uh, yeah,” I conclude lamely. “It’s been hard to save up for surgery… and reconnect with other people. That’s why I traveled so much, to avoid those kind of things. Am I loosing you-?”

Taehoon shakes his head and scowls, yet he seems attentive enough. I keep talking for a minute or two before suggesting we get some food. As we a walk I debate whether I should tell him about my new job offer. I’m unsure of how he’ll take it. I don’t even know how I feel about it.

“I think my dad likes you,” Taehoon says. What the hell?

“What the hell?” I blink. “I mean… what?”

It’s completely out of left field. I try not to laugh as I look over at him. Taehoon is completely serious. He stares at me with an almost smug expression. Yet again I want to slap him.

“Where’d you come up with that idea?” I snort. He smirks and gives a small shrug.

“I dunno. He just likes you.”

“Well, friends are supposed to like each other,” I agree with a nod of my head. Although Taehoon seems to have something on his mind, he says nothing else. I stretch my hands above my head.

“Hey Taehoon… I need to tell you something that’s pretty important,” I begin slowly. “I might have to move in a while. To a different part of Korea.”

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

I took Taehoon to a library.

We visited the zoo.

He learned the Japanese alphabet. I complied to take him to the nearest fairgrounds.

I avoided overstaying my welcome at the Seong house. Hansu would walk me to my car, but he never explicitly asked me to stay. He just spoke gently to me. He would wrap his arm around my waist and such. It never bothered me.

Taehoon turned six. After his birthday party, a bit of school shopping, and his first Taekwondo tournament, I decided to finally step down from my job.

Hansu looked at me with confusion. “You want to quit?”

“Yeah. I want to retire, not commit f***ing homicide or something,” I counter, admittedly feeling defensive.

Hansu leans back against the kitchen counter and stares. His Taekwondo uniform had become a less reoccurring outfit for him. Today he was wearing a normal T-shirt and some sweats Taehoon and I had bought him on a trip to the strip mall. (Taehoon had encouraged me to actually strip and was slapped promptly on the butt.) The point being, I was slightly more intimidated by regular well-build-dad Hansu than I was patient-Taekondo-Seong-nim. I’m not sure when that mental switch became a reality for me.

“I thought you and Taehoon were getting along?” He ignores the last part of my comment and plows to the point.

“We were,” I admit. “But it’s not about Taehoon. He’s not really, yknow, gonna need a nanny while he’s attending school. In fact that might be harder for him to make friends if I am around.”

“Why would having a nanny make a difference?”

I shrug. “I dunno. Children are cruel?”

“So are women.”

“Which is why I’m not lesbian at the moment.”

“(Y/N). Be serious with me.”

I give him a defensive shrug. I had imagined this would go a bit smoother. I was even going to suggest some long distance communication. Honestly it was stupid of me to think he would take it well.

“He’s getting older Hansu. So am I. I need to… fix… my problems. Like I- I just need to focus on me,” I state firmly. As firmly as I can, anyway. My cracking voice makes getting the point across difficult.

“So have you found another job?”

“Yes.”

Hansu runs a hand across his face and shifts his gaze to the ceiling. I can see disappointment in his movements. There’s a gloss to his eyes that forces me to avert my eyes to the floor.

“I just thought… you were happy,” He says.

“Well- yeah,” I reply lamely. “I am. I’m really happy.”

“You just don’t think we need you?”

I snap my gaze over to him. “Hansu there wasn’t supposed to be a ‘we’ in this job. I’m doing this for Taehoon-”

“And me.” Handy returns the eye contact. I can see him muscles flex a bit. A vein pulses in his neck. “You mainly did it… to help me.”

I shrug in defeat. Yes. Sure. I did it for him too.

“I’m quitting Seong-nim. I’m sorry.”

For a couple seconds the room is silent. Then Hansy stands upright and brushes past me. “I’ll go tell Taehoon.”

Taehoon’s rough playtime with his action figures is paused. The whole house is silent. I wipe my eyes frantically. Screw Hansu Seong. I conclude Taehoon’s observation was wrong. His dad doesn’t like me. At the moment I don’t like him much either.

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿

It hurts Hansu… watching the other men shove (Y/N)’s belongings into the trunk of her car. She stands nearby, holding her purse, chatting with one of the guys helping her out.

He feels Taehoon’s grabby hands rubbing across his chin and up his cheek, checking for any of his dad’s tears. The little brat. Now Hansu really has to hold it together.

Not like Taehoon is faring very well. Seeming small and vulnerable, cuddled against his dad, limp in Hansu’s strong arms. He isn’t held very often. Hansu can feel a combination of tears and snot wetting h the shoulder of his shirt as his son hides his face. He rubs his hand slowly against Taehoon’s back.

(Y/N) closes the trunk and thanks the men. She stands beside her car. They had all agreed. No hugs.

Hansu wanted to hug her though. Her touch always felt warm. He felt cold now.

The eye contact felt too short. (Y/N) smiled sweetly and waved. Taehoon stirred, peeking out of the crook of Hansu’s neck. He waved back. Hansu’s lips quirked into what he thought was a gentle smile. Based on (Y/N)’s scoff and the slight shake of her head, it was a smirk.

She ducked into the car. The engine rubles and she pulled into the busy street.

“I hate her,” came the muffled voice of Taehoon. Hansu squeezed him against his side.

“Don’t say that.”

“I hate you too.”

“Taehoon…” Hansu can’t find the right tone to use. Honestly.

“You should’ve made her stay. If you weren’t a damn coward you would’ve told her.”

Hansu did, indeed, feel the unsaid words on the top of his tongue, and was suddenly sure she didn’t feel the same.

27 notes · View notes

the-eclipsed-luna · 2 years ago

Note

Ayeee

Hii! Hope you're doing okay. May I request some of the characters accidentally hitting their calm maleReader instead of the enemy and now he's getting a huge bruise on where they hit him? thx u

Idk how many characters I'm allowed to choose so I'm just gonna name a few and you can pick..? ��

Jake / Vasco / Zack / Jace / Vin Jin / Warren / Megumi / Goo

“𝐌𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐝!”

Warnings: Mentions of violence, fluff, not really fluff though, cursing, mentions of balls.

Jake • Vasco • Zack • Jace • Vin • Warren • Megumi • Goo

Hey anon! I’m doing good, thanks for asking! ♡︎ I decided to do everyone you requested because yes 😩 I also changed it up a little with the “enemy” part. Some of them are petty interactions, and others are full-fledged brawls lol.

𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞

𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ✧ He was focusing a little too hard.

✧ The same mantra kept echoing in Jake’s mind, urging him on: “keep fighting.”

✧ He was just a little caught up in everything, that’s all—

✧ He was absorbed in hearing the definitive crack of his opponents nose, feeling the warm spew of blood that followed a hit to the ribs, seeing the trail of bodies that followed his path

✧ These suckers were really something. There were so many of them, and they had been harassing this area for long enough

✧ Jake had called out to Jerry to ask “Where is he?” But hadn’t gotten a response

✧ Then there’s a rustle behind him

✧ A sneak attack.

✧ Instincts go: 📈

✧ He whips around, just barely seeing the glint of purpose in his opponents eyes

✧ “Jake!”

✧ He feels the warm contact of hitting a cheek. But Jake isn’t stupid and realizes his fatal error

✧ I mean… who would’ve guessed that the opponent would duck?

✧ “Sorry (Y/N)! Where’ve you been-?” He pants

✧ Honestly Jake has never been more ashamed. He did hit him, didn’t he?

✧ (Y/N) doesn’t seem fazed, he just keeps up whatever he was doing. “It’s fine… I’ve just been around.”

✧ The man is hardly panting… damn you (Y/N). You’re attractive even when you aren’t trying…

✧ (That’s what Jake thinks anyways)

𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ✧ As soon as the fight is over, Jake runs.

✧ His dress shoes slam against what bare concrete is left, avoiding the piles of unconscious and semi-conscious bodies.

✧ He tries not to panic. He has to play it cool, and not throw a fit.

✧ Eventually, he finds you talking to Brad, nursing your busted fists with your back to him. Jake let’s out a sigh, “Pretty nasty hit you took there.”

✧ A playful smile toys at his lips as he observes you. You turn to him, seemingly unscathed, nodding with a small smile, “Uh, yeah. Nice punch Boss.”

✧ He tries not to let the use of formalities affect him too much. (Inwardly wounded)

✧ “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks, this time with a note of concern.

✧ “He thinks he has a concussion, boss,” Brad interrupts, just the hint of a smile intermingled with his serious tone.

✧ You ignore Jake’s slacked jaw and bewildered look, eyeing Brad tiredly, “So much for keeping a secret.”

✧ “You shouldn’t keep secrets from the boss- or your boyfr—”

✧ “(Y/N),” Jake drags his finger beneath your chin, prompting you to turn to him. “Is that tr…ue?”

✧ It’s not the thought of a concussion that made Jake stop.

✧ It’s…

✧ 😰

✧ “Your cheek… is this the one I hit?”

✧ You nod.

✧ “Well uh~ not to worry you but… it’s bruising just a little~” “It’s fine Jake-”

✧ Apparently he didn’t think it was “fine”.

✧ Jakes brows furrow together as he examines you. With the way his eyes darken and his smiles fades, He looks beyond apologetic; it’s as if guilt seeps into his every movement.

✧ “You don’t have to worry about it,” you smile. There’s not even the slightest hint of anxiety in your voice, but it does nothing to reassure Number One of Big Deal.

✧ “Yeah but you know I will,” he smirks half-heartedly, quickly reverting back to his worried face.

✧ He’s never letting it go. Every time he sees the splotch of that massive dark bruise, he feels the urge to apologize.

✧ It’s beyond an inside joke too.

✧ Anyone brings it up jokingly, and his head sags and a shadow runs across his face.

✧ “Sorry about that (Y/N).”

✧ “Jake, it healed months ago.”

𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐨

𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ✧ Fights like these were becoming more often.

✧ Vasco was adjusting to the oncoming rush of bad guys. He was confident in his abilities. Sure of himself; he was bound to crush them all.

✧ But…

✧ “(Y/N)? Are you alright?”

✧ His dark eyes scan the battlefield of boys swinging at each other, searching for one man in particular.

✧ He catches him in his sight. (Y/N).

✧ “Are you almost done—” “Euntae, focus.”

�� The tone of his voice sends a chill down Vasco’s spine.

✧ The cogs in his brain stop working for a second as he continues fighting on autopilot. He wants to keep an eye on (Y/N). He doesn’t want to loose sight of him.

✧ Vasco feels a harsh smack to his ribs, knocking the wind out of him. What was that? His instincts heighten as his body reacts frantically.

✧ He turns to the guy fighting him, readying one of numerous forbidden moves just for him.

✧ Once he sends the guy flying it’s back to looking for (Y/N)-

✧ “Euntae-!”

✧ Smack.

𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕

✧ “(Y/N)?! (Y/N) are you okay!? Please wake up!”

✧ Vasco was reduced to a sobbing mess.

✧ You open your eyes, staring at his red face damp with tears. It’s an odd sight- especially since you only fell down a couple of seconds ago.

✧ “Yeah Vasco… I’m fine,” you offer a small smile. Even if it does hurt, you know making a big deal out of nothing would be problematic.

✧ You act calm. Chill. Even a little nonchalant.

✧ Vasco remains crouched on the ground while you dust off your pants, glancing around the parking lot littered with bloodied “bad guys.”

✧ “You’re positive that you’re alright?” He asks slowly, staring at you with concern.

✧ “Yeah. It’ll probably form a bruise at the most,” you reply. You touch your chest, seemingly unfazed.

✧ You feel awful for lying to him. Your chest feels like it’s on fire. It’s sore and laborious to breathe… but you won’t tell him that.

✧ “Sorry.” Vasco says simply.

✧ No one brings it up until you’re undressing at the Burn Knuckles base.

✧ Everyone is slipping out of their jumpsuits and into more comfortable, casual clothes. It smells sweaty and feels humid… but somehow Leon always manages to steal the bathroom before anyone else. (Thankfully)

✧ You listen quietly, offering smiles as Vasco retells a story about him and Jace, obviously awaiting your reaction.

✧ He doesn’t intentionally flaunt his muscles in front of you… but sometimes it seems that way. That’s partially why you like to keep most of your clothes on around him- so he doesn’t start comparing. 😳

✧ “That’s funny~” you reply to one of his stares that begged for your approval. You lift your shirt off over your shoulders, slinging it around your neck as you grab a fresh one.

✧ The room: … You: … You: 🫥

✧ “…What?”

✧ Vasco’s eyes start to gloss over as he frantically grabs your shoulders, examining your bare chest.

✧ “(Y/N)… who hit you?” “I’m sure lots of people did…”

✧ Vasco shakes his head, rubbing his hand across the massive dark splotch that stains your skin. The discolored purple and red resembles a fist… but it doesn’t seem to click to him.

✧ If he means right there… then…. “Probably you.”

✧ You smirk, shaking your head as Vasco stares at you in horror. The bruise doesn’t really bother you- you’re covered in them after today anyway.

✧ Of course you handle his outbursts calmly… reassuring him that you’re not angry.

✧ But he continues, eyes scanning over you for any more bruises that he might’ve given you. “I’m sorry (Y/N)… I didn’t mean for that to happen…”

✧ Vasco: 🥺😰

✧ He apologizes a million times, often quietly and at random. ✧ No- he will not forgive himself.

✧ Yes… he forgets about it for a few weeks before remembering and apologizing all over again.

✧ Jace and the rest of the Burn Knuckles make sure to not ever bring it up again. You also are forced to wear some form of padding under your shirt whenever you get into a fight.

𝐙𝐚𝐜𝐤

✧ Zack isn’t gonna deny it. That guy is getting on his nerves.

✧ This was supposed to be a hang out with him and (Y/N). They were gonna chill and head to the movies. Maybe do some karaoke later.

✧ Just the two of them. Not even Mira was tagging along today.

✧ But then this guy showed up.

✧ Zack feels himself growing more agitated by the minute. He grits his teeth and looks in the opposite direction, willing himself to calm down.

✧ (Y/N) and him are on a park bench… and this idiot decides to stand behind them and catcall.

✧ “You work out bro~?”

✧ Zack is literally seething. (Y/N) has to put his hand on Zack’s leg to keep him from springing up.

✧ “Do you mind reading between the lines?” (Y/N) asks, flashing his three middle fingers before turning to Zack.

✧ “Wanna go to the theatre early? We could walk around-” he whispers, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

✧ Zack is still irked. His brows are knitted together tightly, but he simply shrugs and nods: “Whatever. Let’s just get away from this dunce.”

✧ The dunce, however, seems to really like being annoying. “Can I tag along with you two-?”

✧ “F*ck off,” Zack glares. He starts walking ahead, curling his hands into fists but keeping them shoved firmly in the corners of his pockets.

✧ He keeps his gaze trailed on the ground, trying to cool off. He’d hate to ruin this hang out with (Y/N) even more. So he’ll play it cool and be the bigger man- like Mira tells him to be. It’s hotter that way. ((Y/N) will think so too, right?)

✧ The smirk that spread across his lips disappears in a matter of moments.

✧ “Nice ass-!” The creep calls.

✧ And that’s it. The final straw.

✧ Zack is going for a straight jab. He’d be caught dead before he let someone get away catcalling (Y/N) of all people-

✧ He turns and slams his fist, making direct contact. He can hear the definitive clack of teeth, he watches as he stumbles backwards.

✧ But Zack realizes what he’s done…

✧ “S-Sh*t (Y/N)! What were you doing there-?” (Y/N) nurses his jaw tenderly, glaring. He sighs and turns to the guy, telling him to ‘beat it.’

✧ Zack moves to cup (Y/N)’s cheek, looking frantic. He mumbles ‘idiot’ over and over… but more to himself than anyone.

✧ He knows he’s screwed up big time. He’s insistent on helping (Y/N) walk… even though he isn’t dizzy and he claims his cheek isn’t sore.

✧ He tries to forget about it as they watch the movie… but he can’t. As soon as the lights in the cinema flicker on he scans (Y/N) for any bruising.

✧ “I can’t believe it’s so big…” “I already told you it’s fine.” “But- argh I should beat that guy to a pulp- you sure you’re okay?” “Yeah I’m sure, Zack.”

✧ He’s apologetic- but still an angry boy at heart.

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐞

✧ In his defense- Jace is usually pretty good about “self control” and everything.

✧ He’s also pretty good about it reading the atmosphere. He can tell when the mood has turned sour or hostile.

✧ He’s able to “let it go” when there’s a petty misunderstanding. Most of the time.

✧ But today this one guy (Duri…?) is killing him.

✧ He’s been a nuisance for a few weeks now… but The Burn Knuckles never had the heart to tell him off. Even (Y/N) was pretty chill about the guy- and he was usually more fiery than Jace.

✧ But as of right now, Jace stands idly with Woong and (Y/N), listening to whatever BS that guy, Duri Lee, is spewing out.

✧ Woong and (Y/N) are listening boredly as the one-sided conversation turns from childish comparisons to full-fledged insults.

✧ Duri wraps his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder, despite (Y/N) having shrugged him off twice already.

✧ Jace feels awful. He reminds himself of how jealous Johan was back during the One Night scandal. It’s embarrassing knowing that he’s feeling jealousy about… this.

✧ He’s not a jealous person… but Duri really gets on his nerves. If he keeps up his stupid act, his stupidity might spread to Jace… and then he’ll do something stupid.

✧ Even as Duri begins to degrade Jace himself, rambling a bunch of nonsense about how he “isn’t as smart as he looks”, Jace manages to keep it together. He feels a twinge of annoyance and glares, but he doesn’t say anything.

✧ The rest of the Burn Knuckles aren’t buying the bs anyway. So it’s fine.

✧ “Know you place, Duri.”

✧ Jace’s gaze snaps over to (Y/N). Did he hear him correctly? Did (Y/N) finally say something? He feels a small smile winding onto his face-

✧ “I know exactly where my place is!” Duri sputters indignantly. His look of shock is short lived and is soon replaced by a smirk. It’s highly probable that he’ll take a pathetic jab at redemption.

✧ Jace hates the way Duri’s eyes roam over (Y/N). He braces himself for what comes next.

✧ “It should be sweating over you, if you know what I mean.”

✧ Great. Gross.

✧ Jace turns to Duri now, scowling at him, “You wanna say that again? The Burn Knuckles don’t hit on each other, so don’t even think-” “Whatever Jace. Me and him were just gonna do some catching up~”

✧ Duri makes a crude gesture with his hands. He keeps his arm wrapped around (Y/N), who rolls his eyes and glares.

✧ (Y/N) sighs, “Or so you think. You do know that me and Jace are-”

✧ One kick- one harsh smack. Jace doesn’t know what he’s doing- but whatever it is lands Duri facedown on the floor.

✧ He’s startled by his own rashness. Stupidity really is contagious. He frowns down at Duri but doesn’t move anymore. “Like I said. Burn Knuckle members like you aren’t allowed to hit on their superiors.”

✧ He turns to embrace the startled and disappointed stares from Woong and (Y/N) (respectively)

✧ But naturally, Duri needs to have the last word. Like all PTJ small fries, he wants to sign his death certificate a little early.

✧ “That stupid hierarchy is never gonna get you laid,” he grumbles.

✧ Jace turns and throws all his weight into the kick-

✧ Blocked.

✧ (Y/N)…?

✧ (Y/N) has his arms outstretched in a block, giving Jace an unreadable stare. He sighs, releasing the second-in-command’s foot.

✧ “(Y/N)-” “That’s gonna leave a bruise.”

———

✧ Jace is sitting with (Y/N) a little latter. He still feels a pang of frustration when he remembers the little situation… as well as guilt for hitting (Y/N).

✧ (Y/N) rolls up his sleeves, looking over his arms quietly. Based on his eerie calmness, Jace can assume that there’s a pretty large bruise forming.

✧ Despite the knowing of guilt, Jace is a tad bit grateful for the intervention. He knows (Y/N) only stopped him for the sake of his dignity.

✧ “You’re not normally so passive-aggressive,” (Y/N) comments nonchalantly.

✧ “I know… I’m sorry.” Jace rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, feeling a touch of color flare in his cheeks.

✧ He promises to help ice it, and assures (Y/N) that he won’t do anything like that again. He just smiles dryly and waves it off.

✧ “You probably won’t have the need to,” he says.

✧ Jace looks up at him, his fingers still gingerly rubbing around the bruise. “Won’t have to… attack Duri?”

✧ (Y/N) nods, “He p*ssed himself, apparently.”

✧ Jace knows it’s wrong… honest to god he feels bad… but he couldn’t help but smirk at the thought.

(I swear I’m sorry this entire thing is a mess. I can’t decide which POV to stick to-)

𝐕𝐢𝐧 𝐉𝐢𝐧

✧ In his defense, Vin had recently gotten his glasses re-tinted… and so he was having some trouble adjusting.

✧ But it would’ve been nice if he didn’t walk by you in some grubby alleyway. What a nuisance. He just wanted to go home, listen to some rap, and eat his onion rings.

✧ But you… of course… found yourself in a predicament. 😔

✧ “You’re just gonna stand there?” You call, back pressed against the wall as you stare lazily past the punks you apparently offended.

✧ They seem ticked that your attention is suddenly elsewhere.

✧ Vin just stares at you, silent for a moment, before shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s not my problem.”

✧ “They called me a d*ck-” you call. Although the familiarity of the term has nulled any offended emotions, you’re certain Vin has reserved insulting-you-rights for himself.

✧ “Not my problem,” Vin insists, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

✧ The punks continue to close in on you, throwing insults at the two of you- despite Vin being across the alley. You both ignore them.

✧ “Ah- they also called Mary fat.”

✧ “Still not my problem.”

✧ “They said Duke’s music is better than yours-”

✧ “Did not!”

✧ “And they called your sunglasses ‘gaudy’.”

✧ Which is followed by silence as one of the punks lowers a cigarette bud towards your cheek. You don’t flinch, staring past his shoulder at Vin.

✧ You wait in anticipation for Vin to say something. Anything. You’re so intent on seeing his reaction you hardly notice the burning sensation of the cigarette nearing your skin.

✧ “No they didn’t…” Vin mumbles. He adjusts his stance- and now you’re sure he isn’t going to abandon you.

✧ “Would you freaks shut up?!” The punk rolls his eyes in exasperation, pulling the bud away from your face and turning to Vin.

✧ “Or do you have somethin’ you wanna say too?” The delinquent flicks the cigarette to the side, staring your knight-in-shining-armor up and down reproachfully.

✧ You inwardly moan. Vin has lots of things he wants to say. It’s best not to get him started.

✧ “You talk too much,” Vin answers, and begins strutting forward.

✧ You crack your knuckles, relieved you won’t have to take them all on your own.

✧ “Anyway this is a waste of my time- so let’s just go (Y/N).” He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, not at all prepared for the slap.

✧ Yes. A petty, weak, girlish, slap.

✧ A slap that knocks his sunglasses askew. You freeze.

✧ “Hey,” you call loudly, watching as their heads swivel towards you. “Don’t look at him. Say anything and I-”

✧ The loud noise of bones cracking interrupts you-

✧ Vin goes rampant, giggling and grinning like a school girl. Oh hell. You shrug and get into your own fighting stance. “Well I guess he’ll kick your asses anyways- so nevermind…” you mutter.

✧ Those stupid glasses. Distorting his vision all the time. Even…

✧ In fights.

✧ You feel numbness tingling through your arms as you avoid another swing of your opponents arm. Reaching up with a strike of your own, you manage to punch him in the ribs for a KO.

✧ You’re so focused. Vin is so distracted.

✧ You scan the two other guys already beaten to the ground, and look up to see Vin walking towards you victoriously—

✧ But instead he’s charging you with arms at the ready— “WAIT VIN-!”

✧ He stops mid-swing… but only after he’s felt his skin contact with yours.

✧ The force sends you backwards into the wall. Nausea and dizziness begin bubbling in your body.

✧ You feel your knees buckle and your eyes crossing, and the pounding of your heart is auditable in your ears as you nurse your numb jaw.

✧ Meanwhile Vin just stands there in shock, calling you names while asking insincerely if you’re okay.

✧ “You can’t blame me cuz you were in the way you little sh*t! Ugh… f*ck…” he mutters.

✧ You’re calm while he rambled, but your patience begins to thin as he continues insisting the blame was all on you.

✧ “Vin…” you say calmly. “Would you shut the hell up. If it weren’t for your stupid glasses…”

✧ -He gawks in surprise

✧ “Then I wouldn’t have a concussion. Or a nose bleed,” you snap.

✧ There’s silence. Your face is illuminated by the blue light of your phone as you search for the Urgent Care nearby.

✧ “…That does look pretty bad.” Finally. He has the decency to be a little sincere.

✧ Vin leans in closely, trying to catch your eye. While you avoid eye contact, you are perfectly in tune with his movements.

✧ “I’m taking you to my place,” Vin huffs with a smirk, seemingly trying to redeem himself as he shoves his hands into his pants.

✧ “I thought you didn’t care earlier,” you answer, still scrolling on your phone. Only half-listening.

✧ Then his bulky arm wraps around your torso, and he scoops you over his shoulder.

✧ ‼️

✧ Not good for the nausea or dizziness.

✧ But anyway…he did carry you to the Urgent Care…

✧ Where he blatantly denies bruising you up, and even laughs a little. (Okay- he does feel a little guilty…)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧

✧ “(Y/N)-” “I’m not closing my eyes.”

✧ There’s no way you’re letting Warren take them all by himself.

✧ It’s just not happening.

✧ He seems to know. He’s fine with you fighting, as long as he isn’t there to worry over you. He can’t get over the urge to intervene and protect you until the fight is over. That’s always been the case.

✧ “You let Eli fight,” you remind him, turning to face away from him and towards the crowd of delinquents. “You’re not (Eli. That’s) different.”

✧ You’re not different than Eli? Well then, you’ll take that as a yes… even if you do inwardly know what he was trying to say.

✧ Your shoes slap against the floor as you walk through puddles of water. The day is overcast, just like Warren’s mood.

✧ Soon enough the blood mixes with the water.

✧ The man spits out a tooth as you throw an elbow into his jaw. Your clenched fists shake like leaves as you deliver a kick into his back.

✧ It’s loud- but you can’t even hear the shouts of grunts of the fight…

✧ Just the ringing in your ears. The adrenaline pump doesn’t help… it just gives you endurance and an animalistic will to withstand the blows. It doesn’t help you make decisions, or strike properly.

✧ “Warren-!” You feel your heart beating in your ears.

✧ Warren is smart in his own way. But once his mind is shrouded with concern, he’ll do anything to plow a path straight to you.

✧ Oh? You were just trying to draw his attention to the guy making a lame attempt at a “sneak attack?”

✧ Nevermind then…

✧ But as it starts winding down and all that’s left are the decently-difficult fighters… Warren feels his heart lurching out of his chest.

✧ “Gotta help (Y/N)…” he thinks to himself. And the thought replays. Over and over. “The mighty Warren Chae won’t let him get hurt...”

✧ (Y/N)…. (Y/N)….

✧ You….

✧ “You-!?” Slam

✧ Warren didn’t mean to loose focus and body slam you into the wall— but he did—

✧ “You’re…(good?I didn’t see you) in the way! (Sorry!)” His words slur thickly and he skips a few while he’s at it.

✧ Your vision feels fuzzy. Your body feels hot as he presses his rough hands against your neck. But as your heartbeat slows back to normal, and the adrenaline boost wears off, you come to face reality.

✧ The fight isn’t over.

✧ “I’m fine Warren,” you assure him calmly. “But don’t get distracted-”

✧ “Then listen to me,” he says firmly. Ignoring the oncoming kick directed at him, he leans (down/up) towards you. “Close your eyes.”

✧ He forces your body into a sitting position on the ground. Your hands shake slightly as you hold your sore shoulder. Your eyes are squeezed shut.

✧ You keep quiet and try to block out the disturbing noises. Shouts of agony, the snapping of bones. It doesn’t bother you as much when you’re fighting together… but knowing Warren is going rampant makes you uneasy.

✧ “Okay… open your (eyes).”

✧ Warren is already kneeling beside you, brushing his calloused hands around your torso to (take off your jacket and) lift off your shirt.

✧ You feel the cold slap of breeze against your skin 💨 👋

✧ Warren’s droopy eyes look a mixture of sad-dog and irritated-cat. How could he mistake you for the enemy?

✧ Guilty… frustrated… concerned.

✧ He rubs his rough palm against your shoulder. His thumb pad traces circles around the large bruise that’s forming.

✧ The longer you sit there, the darker the bruise seems. And it’s making Warren a little paranoid.

✧ “It’s getting worse-” he mumbles.

✧ “I’ll be fine.”

✧ “I’ll treat it back home.”

✧ “Alright… take me to bed I guess.”

✧ “…”

✧ A pause.

✧ “Bed rest. I meant. Not really like that.”

✧ “…I was gonna say. I’m not sure if you’re up for that.”

✧ Yeah. It’s time to shut up.

✧ Is Warren sad? Yes. Guilty? Yup. Frustrated? Very. It’s never happening again. You’ll probably never be allowed throw a punch in his presence ever again.

𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐢

✧ Magami curls his toes into the sticky martial arts mats that line the floor. Even though it’s night outside, the training room is still illuminated by tube lights overhead.

✧ Practicing his karate, even when the room is empty and less stuffy, still feels constructing in the mask. It’s still not as bad as it is in the arena.

✧ He practices the fluid motion of his kick again.

✧ Then the movement of his strike.

✧ He hears the door creak open. Kenta swears that if Nomen tries to interrupt him with some annoying sh-

✧ A best of silence passes as he distances himself from the sandbag. Maybe it wasn’t Nomen after all.

✧ But then there’s a voice that sounds out-

✧ Magami feels the blood rushing to his face- and without thinking he swings his leg for an ushiro geri-

✧ Slam.

✧ He feels his foot connect with wood, snapping through the barriers and splitting the cypress in half. His pulse remains sickeningly fast as he straightens and turns to face the back.

✧ He was right. It wasn’t Nomen…

✧ Instead, Tanuki - you - stands rigidly behind him, cupping your face and the shattered splinters of wood.

✧ He broke your mask.

✧ “It’s just me, Daruma…” you say quietly, still standing stiff and in shock. You stare at him with half of your face naked and exposed while dragging your finger across your damp cheek. Blood. You’re bleeding…

✧ “Don’t get in my way again.” That’s his reply.

✧ His voice is deep and muffled. A better mask for his emotions that’s the actual mask that he wears. You can tell, out of perceptiveness, that he’s a bit flustered.

✧ His brows are drawn together tightly and his lips purse from behind his disguise. He feels his heart hammering in his chest. Why Tanuki…? Of all people.

✧ You tuck your free hand into your pocket, removing the remains of your mask with the other with calm precision, nodding understandingly.

✧ “I was coming to tell you how late it was,” you drawl.

✧ This is why Kenta thinks you can be an annoying prick. You stand there in such a relaxed pose, voice drawing reactions out of Kenta he has no control over.

✧ His eyes are wandering. Tanuki (you) was always more appealing to Kenta than the others, to an extent.

✧ “How late is it?” He asks.

✧Tanuki wasn’t as annoying as Nomen, and he carried a conversation better than Hyottoko. Hanyya was always accompanied by Nomen, so that was a no-go. And Tanuki was much less obnoxious than Shiba Inu.

✧ “The circus is starting in an hour. It’s that late.”

✧ His eyes wandered up from your dress shoes, your suit pants… and flickered over that iconic, unmistakable bulge that earned you the Tanuki alias; across his chest and up to your cheek.

✧ Kenta’s attention was fixated on your cheek. With the mask no longer covering your face, he could see your features for the - third time?

✧ And your cheek, he notices, is bleeding.

✧ “You’re gonna form a bad bruise if you don’t ice that,” he remarks all of a sudden.

✧ He moves to unbutton his suit and change into the convict clothes. Keeping his focus away from you.

✧ “Oh…” you murmur from behind him. Even without looking, Kenta knows you’ve begun touching your cheek gingerly again. “Well it doesn’t matter. It’s always covered up anyway.”

✧ Kenta doesn’t feel as guilty about it as he does embarrassed. And it’s not really- embarrassment… just- he just feels flustered. Actually, at this point he isn’t sure how he feels.

✧ “Ice it.” This time it’s not a warning, but a command.

✧ “I will… I will. Afterwards. You need help-?”

✧ At this point, Magami is convinced Tanuki could pull off any pose and turn him on. He feels riled up and agitated as you lean to help unfasten a particularly stubborn button.

✧ “…Don’t be a d*ck, Tanuki.”

✧ “‘No thanks’ would’ve sufficed.”

✧ You proceed to unfasten his shirt anyway. Kenta’s face remains impassive, but he won’t deny his gratitude for the mask policy right now 🫣.

✧ He stares at the bloody, darkening splotch on your cheek. Unmistakably the result of his kick. He also notes that you look good without the mask.

✧ Once he slides out of his shirt and into the bright orange one, he brings up his finger to tap harshly against your face.

✧ “Well, ice it soon.”

✧ He starts unfastening his pants. As he bends down, he can’t help but sneak glances at your limp bulge tucked away in your own slacks. He really disgusts himself sometimes. But you’re so damnably attractive, it’s almost annoying.

✧ Rephrase: it is annoying.

✧ You adjust your stance, shifting your weight from leg to leg and crossing your arms. Damn you. Kenta almost chokes.

✧ “Will do,” you chuckle.

✧ “Don’t make me kick you again.”

✧ “Daruma…”

Cough- cough… ☞︎ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

𝐆𝐨𝐨

✧ “Don’t wander off too far boo~”

✧ “Goo…”

✧ You feel a little exasperated. As Goo Kim’s secret friend, you’d think he’d treat you more like an equal. Or at least have confidence in your capabilities.

✧ And how did you end up being singled out as his ‘dearly beloved’ anyway?

✧ As you land another hit on some poor punk’s ribs, you feel your promise ring scrape his skin and draw blood.

✧ So… seeing as you’re wearing that ridiculous price of jewelry… you sort of already know how that story ended.

✧ But it doesn’t matter. You’re tying to stay level-headed as you fight, and your ‘future spouse’ being obnoxious isn’t soothing your nerves.

✧ In fact, you can’t recall a single time fighting with Goo was therapeutic. So I guess this isn’t anything different from the norm.

✧ “What’s for dinner?” You ask boredly. You sink into your toes and dodge a wild swing, kicking the kid in the gut.

✧ “Whatever you feel like babe!” Goo replies energetically as he finishes bashing in some heads.

✧ “I could go for some bird meat,” you muse quietly as a new onrush of guys heads your way. It’s a wonder than Goo hears you.

✧ “Ooh- okay! How about chicken?”

✧ “Pass. Turkey?”

✧ Goo swings a crowbar around expertly, a more focused expression on his features. He takes a moment to reply. “Nah… I hate the flavor.”

✧ “Okay, how about-”

✧ “Duck!”

✧ Whack.

✧ “…Or just… embrace it I guess. You look hot either way, babe.”

✧ “Kim… remember our conversation about clear communication?”

✧ “Uh huh? But I did warn ya!” “We were literally talking about birds.”

✧ You snap a guys wrist without even looking, glaring (up/down) at Goo.

✧ The rest of the fight you ignore him. Your expression remains neutral afterwards as he takes you to the urgent care.

✧ “At least it hit you in the shoulder!”

✧ “Yeah- I wonder where it would’ve hit me if I had ducked.”

✧ “Stop being all calm and angry at me boo! It’s creepy!”

✧ “…Alright. Whatever Goo.”

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