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Something Better

Fandom: Sakamoto Days

Rating: General

Relationships: Sakamoto Taro & Satoda Etsuko; Sakamoto Taro & Akao Rion

Words: 973

This is fic 2/20. Just as a reminder, I'm doing 20 prompts as quickly as I can (not quite 20 in 20 days, but I'm going to try to keep it to around a month) as an exercise to stop myself from freezing up due to overthinking. This means the fics will be largely unedited so please forgive my typos. Oh boy, it took me a while to decide on a concept for this one. Currently voting on prompt set #4

“I won’t let you.”

He didn’t know what he was doing. 

It had been easy to tell Aoi that he would stop killing, but it was another thing to actually go through with it. And there was no one he could talk to. 

The Order wouldn’t get it. They’d probably just tell him he shouldn’t be starting a relationship in their line of work even if killing was still on the table. 

Shin wouldn’t get it. He was still too young, too fresh to the assassin world. He was a kid and Sakamoto knew he couldn’t burden him with his issues. The kid had enough of his own.  

Nagumo wouldn’t get it. He liked this work more than anyone. He would never be able to understand why Sakamoto was even considering this. And even if he could, things between them had never been the same after Akao…

Akao.

Akao would get it. 

Once, when they were 16, they got in trouble for something other than fighting.They’d found some stray kittens that had somehow gotten onto the JCC campus. Nagumo said they were cute, but that they should hand them over to a teacher. It wasn’t like a couple of would-be assassins could take care of them. 

But Akao said the teachers would probably kill them and she didn’t want that. She talked about her niece, saying she’d probably love one so they should take care of them until she was able to get off the JCC campus long enough to visit home. But Akao shared a room with a girl who was allergic to cats, so they ended up in the room Sakamoto shared with Nagumo. 

Then a month after they found the cats, Sakamoto returned to his room to find Satoda Etsuko waiting for him, the cats obviously gone. 

“Don’t even think of running,” she told him before he could really take in what was happened. “This might be the strangest rule you’ve broken.” 

He didn’t speak, just standing in the doorway to his and Nagumo’s room, not looking at Satoda. 

“Nagumo-kun told us everything. Don’t glare like that, he did the right thing. What exactly was the plan for the kittens?”

“Akao was going to take them home,” Sakamoto said even though, surely, Nagumo already explained as much.

“Do you really think it would be that easy?” 

He didn’t respond, wanting this to end. They’d get some punishment—it was usually little more than a slap on the wrist since they were good students—and that would be that. He and Akao would probably do something to get back at Nagumo, but even that wouldn’t be much because at the end of the day, they were friends. 

“You’re both great assassin, but you’re too kind. Nagumo-kun is the only one of you who will make it.” 

That made Sakamoto look up, not sure what she meant. 

“You only do this because you don’t know what else there is to do. If you ever find something better, you’ll leave it all behind.” Her eyes turned wistful. “And Rio-chan is the type who dies young.”

And she’d been right. Akao was dead and here he was, about to wash out. What was he doing? What did he think he could possibly do but make Aoi cry? He should just go back to what he knew and be alone like he vowed he would be after Akao died. 

Sakamoto gripped the edge of the sink tightly, staring at his own reflection. Running was probably the best thing he could do for everyone. He’d ask to be based somewhere else in Japan and he’d leave all these connections behind.

“Didn’t take you for a coward.”

Sakamoto closed his eyes tightly, refusing to acknowledge the ghost sitting on the edge of the bathtub. 

“You’re not real.” 

“Maybe not, but I bet I’m turning in my grave right now.” 

“Leave me alone.” 

“I was right. You’re the type to prioritize others over yourself. Even now, you’re being selfish but it’s just because you don’t know how to protect Nagumo or that blond kid, let alone your girlfriend.” 

“I couldn’t protect Kindaka or you.”

“Like we needed your protection.”

“That’s what I mean. You didn’t need my protection and I still failed.” 

The Akao that haunted Sakamoto when he was sleep deprived was silent for a while, but he knew she was still there, judging him.

“You and Nagumo fight a lot now.”

“We’ve always fought.”

“Not like this.”

“Without you…”

“Sakamoto, you need to move on. We’re assassins. We die. Besides, Uzuki is dead. It’s over.” 

“Sometimes I wish Uzuki killed me. If he killed you, he should’ve been able to kill me.” 

His cellphone buzzed in his pocket and he fished it out, seeing a text from Aoi. 

“I’ll block her number and leave town.”

“I won’t let you.”

Sakamoto turned to face his hallucination, anger flaring in his stomach. She looked like she had the last time he saw her alive, she always did, and she looked just as angry with him as he was with her. 

“Then you shouldn’t’ve run off and gotten yourself killed.” 

“Oh shut up, asshole. You love her, right?”

Sakamoto clenched his jaw, not wanting to answer despite knowing that wouldn’t do anything. She was quite literally in his head. 

“You’ll be able to protect her. You love her and that’s all you need to protect someone.” 

“You don’t know that.”

“And you don’t know something bad will happen. Go find a better life. Make a better life.” 

And she was gone, telling Sakamoto even his subconscious had nothing left to say.

He looked at Aoi’s message, smiling in spite of everything and, even though his mind was screaming not to, he sent a response. 

Akao Rion was dead, but Sakamoto Taro was not and just like Satoda had said, he’d finally found something better. 

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woah this character is so cool i wish they were covered in blood their whole body trembling with a look of absolute horror on their face as theyre struggling to breathe in panic

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Get these ai writing assistants out of my face!!!! I don't care if my writing is bad at least it is mine!!!!

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Don't Go

Fandom: Sakamoto Days

Rating: General

Relationships: Akao Akira & Akao Rion; Asakura & Ando Tasuku

Words: 1272

Since there was a tie, I ended up doing both. Just as a introduction, I'm doing 20 prompts as quickly as I can (not quite 20 in 20 days, but I'm going to try to keep it to around a month) as an exercise to stop myself from freezing up due to overthinking. This means the fics will be largely unedited so please forgive my typos. When I finish all of them, I'll probably edit them and then post them as one fic on AO3. Currently voting on prompt set #3

A. “I love you, please don’t go” (Akao Akira & Akao Rion)

Akira’s parents weren’t around a lot when she was little. Instead, it was her father’s younger sister who was there when she was growing up. Which was strange, since Akao Rion wasn’t really old enough to be taking care of a kid. But when Akira’s father was gone for weeks on business and her mother disappeared without warning, it was Rion who showed up to take care of the tiny baby. Rion was the one picking up the shy 4-year-old from preschool. Rion was the one buying Rion her backpack for elementary school. 

Later, Akira would wonder how Rion was able to do everything she did and also go to school. From her understanding, the JCC wasn’t usually a place you could easily leave before graduation. The best she ever got out of Rion was that she was technically working when she came to see Akira. And, it needed to be said that Rion wasn’t the one to literally raise her, a nanny did that, but Rion was still around more than Akira’s own parents, so it felt like Rion was more of a parent than the woman who birthed her or the man who’s surname she been given. 

Rion also taught her a little about fighting. She said it was just for self-defense. Akira was pretty sure it was more than what most people learned for self-defense. but when she’d shown aptitude for the same ‘sight’ Rion had, Rion had been so excited that Akira didn’t care what it was for. She didn’t care that she was six and learning the basics of how to handle a gun.  

“Hey, Akira,” Rion said as they sat at the table eating breakfast a few days into the year Akira was turning eight. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be back for your birthday.”

“Huh?” Akira looked up at her aunt. “You’re always at my birthday.”

“I know, but the timing is…” Rion sighed. “I’m graduating soon, so I don’t think I’ll be able to get out until after that. Your birthday will have passed already.” 

“Will Mom and Dad be back?”

“I don’t know,” Rion admitted, frowning. “I don’t think so.” 

“Oh.” Akira knew she was too old to be upset about something so small, but her eyes were starting to water.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Rion said. “I’ll be back right after and then we can have a big party or something.” 

But it was too late and Akira couldn’t keep her tears in.

“But— But—” She couldn’t manage a sentence through her tears and so gave up.

“Akira, I’m sorry,” Rion said, jumping up to pull Akira into a hug. “Hey, it’ll be okay.” 

“I don’t want you to go,” Akira managed to sob out. “I love you, please don’t go.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Rion comforted, rubbing her back.

Akira eventually calmed down and she was a little embarrassed about her overreaction. There was no need for her to break down over something like this. After all, Rion said she’d be back in April and Akira believed her aunt. They’d celebrate Akira’s birthday then and all would be well. 

“You’ll really come back soon?” Akira asked the night Rion left.

Rion reached out and put a hand on Akira’s head, smiling at her with her usual confidence. 

“I’ll be back so quick, you won’t even notice I was gone.” 

But time makes fools of us all and Akira was quite the fool because Akao Rion never came home. 

2. “Please don’t walk out that door” (Asakura & Ando Tasuku)

When his old friend showed up out of the blue with a baby, Asakura didn’t know what to say. 

“So, you gonna explain yourself?” Asakura asked while the two of them drank the beers Ando brought along with the aforementioned baby. "I haven’t even heard from you in years and then you show up out of nowhere with a kid?”

“I don’t think I have an explanation.” 

“What the hell does that mean?” Asakura asked with a long sigh. “Is that really your kid?”

“Yeah. Kid already looks enough like me that there’s not much of a question.” 

“He have a mom?” 

“Do you remember Sasaki Rie?” 

“Of course. Wait, she’s the mother?” Asakura didn’t know who he thought the mother would be, but Rie was the last person he would’ve guessed. “She hated your guts.” 

“Probably still does.”

“Probably?”

“I don’t know where she is.” 

Asakura sighed again, finding his nearly empty pack of cigarettes. He took his time lighting it and while he did, Ando said nothing, just staring at his beer. 

“So, why are you here?”

“I’m on the run.”

“What?” Asakura nearly dropped his cigarette. “On the run? From who?”

“The JAA.”

“The J— Ando, what the hell?” 

“Asakura, I need you to take the kid.”

“What—?”

“The JAA is saying I stole him, but he— he wouldn’t survive in that place.” Ando finally looked up. “I can’t tell you about what I was doing. It would put you in danger, too.” 

“Are you telling me you’re going to leave the kid here and fuck off?” Ando nodded so slightly that Asakura thought it might have been unintentional. “Ando, just stay here. Raise the kid here. Even the JAA doesn’t know about this place.”

“Asakura, you know better than anyone that if the JAA wants to find someone or something, they’ll find it. For now, they’re not after the kid, just me. He’ll be safe here.” 

“Wait a damn second. I don’t know how to take care of a kid.” Asakura had only just turned 20, how could he take care of a baby? “I’m telling you, they can’t find you here.” 

“Asakura, it’s for the best. You’re a better man than me.” 

“As if any of us are angels.” Asakura was finally starting to be able to study what he wanted to, but he’d spent most of his teenage years in weapons research. He wasn’t a sinless person.”No one in the underworld is.” 

“I’ve never been under the impression I was going to heaven,” Ando told him. “But now… I don’t even think hell will want me.” 

Asakura could only stare at his friend, wondering what in the world he’d gotten himself involved in. What could he have been doing that warranted him being chased down by the JAA and also was terrible enough that he was writing death poetry. 

Before their conversation could continue, the baby started to cry. He’d been so small so it was a little shocking how loud he was. 

“You gonna help your kid?”

Ando didn’t respond, looking at his feet and gripping his beer tightly. He looked like he was already dead. 

“At least tell me his name.”

“Shin,” Ando said quietly. “It’s the only thing Rie left for him. Don’t even know how it’s written.”

Asakura stared at his friend, wondering how they both ended up here. How’d they manage to screw up this badly? 

All his old friends were dead, disappeared, or sitting in a secret lab while ignoring a crying baby. 

“Please don’t walk out that door,” he said. “We’ll figure this out.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Ando muttered, never looking at Asakura. 

By the time he managed to settle Shin, it was too late. Ando was gone and Asakura couldn’t even pretend to be surprised. The only surprise was a note left behind.

I’m sorry. I’ll try to come back for him someday.

Not only did he never come back, but Asakura would lose Shin in the same way. He’d ask him not to go and he’d disappear without a word, just another hole in Asakura’s heart for him to fill with research he barely even believed in anymore. 

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"Stop thinking all on your own, Shin! I'm telling you, you're just as stupid as me!"

"On your own, you make the wrong decisions! So, rely on us a little!"

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New Heisuke illustration for SakaPuzz!

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New Sakamoto Days illustration!

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It looks like Shin is bringing food and a drink to his goth boyfriend

Natsuki you're gonna overheat.....

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Natsuki you're gonna overheat.....

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seba mafuyu from that one official art

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Scars

NatsuShin fic | 1,100 words

There’s a scar along Shin’s left side, tucked between the seventh and eighth rib—a pale, jagged line, long since healed but fresh enough that it still carries a purplish tone. The wound dips unevenly at one end, a sharp, unnatural gouge where the blade had been shoved at the last second, severing muscle and defecting off bone instead of burying itself clean into his spleen. A deliberate choice, a desperate choice—one that had saved his life by a margin too thin to think about.

It’s one mark in a vast collection.

A lifetime carved into Shin’s skin, cruel and careless, and deceptively long. More marks than Natsuki can count, and he’s tried once or twice in the pale hours of a lazy morning, passively cataloging them under a careful touch.

More, even, than Natsuki himself bears—which is saying something, considering how early he'd been thrown into the proverbial fire. Trained as a weapon under his father’s hand, a hand that never pulled punches, never offered mercy. His own body carries those memories, but seeing Shin’s…

The comparison turns his stomach.

When he lets himself think about it too long, it feels like his heart drops straight through his chest, sinks heavy and cold into the pit of his gut, where it stays.

Shin rarely talks about any of them, and Natsuki rarely asks.

Still, sometimes, when the light hits just right and Shin shifts in a way that pulls the old wounds taut across his ribs, Natsuki’s gaze catches there, on that once jagged line, and he feels it again—

The weight of the knife in his hand, the way it had slid through flesh, the sickening grind as the steel deflected off bone instead of sinking deeper. His knife. His hand. His mark carved into Shin’s skin.

He doesn't always feel bad about it. Not enough to lose sleep, not enough to keep him tossing in bed at night, staring at the cracks in the ceiling. Back then, Shin had been a job like any other, a clean solution to someone else's problem. Natsuki hadn't even known who he was, hadn't looked closely enough to see anything worth hesitating for.

And Shin understands that, has never even held it against him.

Not even later, when it would have been easy, when it would have made sense. He had accepted it with a sort of dismissively maddening grace, like it was just another tally in a life already stitched together by violence. Sure, he makes jokes about it, teases Natsuki about it, but he’d never really cared, not truly. Like it didn’t matter at all.

Natsuki tells himself that should make it easier.

It doesn’t.

Not in the quiet moments like this where they’re laying together, no weight of expectation on their shoulders, some mindless B-movie playing half in the background. Or at least, it’s in the background to Natsuki, who spends half of the movie looking at the side of Shin’s face, watching the way the TV light bounces off the tops of his cheekbones.

His hand moves without thinking, drawing slow, idle circles wherever there’s bare skin to find—Shin’s forearm, the stretch of his ribs where his shirt’s ridden up, the delicate jut of his hip bone. He isn't asking for anything. He isn't searching. He's just...feeling. Grounding himself.

And then, his thumb grazes it.

That familiar scar between Shin’s seventh and eighth rib. He freezes for a moment, the weight of the memory pushing at him, before he pushes it back down, continuing his lazy trail across Shin’s skin. The TV continues to play, the moment settles again, and then-

“It’s not your fault,” Shin says, voice soft in the quiet, as if to not break the moment.

He doesn’t move much—just shifts enough to tilt his face upward, resting his chin lightly against Natsuki's shoulder. His eyes catch Natsuki’s, pale lashes blinking slowly like he already knows exactly what he’ll find there.

“What?” Natsuki says before he realizes what Shin is talking about. He hadn’t realized his thoughts had been so loud.

"It was a year ago last week," Shin says simply, as if he’s been waiting for Natsuki to catch up. "That’s why you’ve been thinking about it more."

“Oh,” the sound slips out of Natsuki’s mouth. He hadn’t realized that at all. He hadn't let himself count the days.

Shin’s hand finds his forearm, warm and steady, grounding him in a way he can't manage on his own.

"It’s not your fault," Shin repeats, softer this time. He says it like a truth so absolute it doesn't need proof. Like he believes it enough for both of them. "So stop thinking that, invisible bastard."

"I know it’s not," Natsuki answers, though the words taste awkward and foreign in his mouth.

“No, you don’t,” Shin replies. It should sound like an argument, but it doesn’t. He says it as if it’s a statement of fact, as obvious as telling him that the sky is blue and grass is green. “But I’m just going to keep telling you until you do.”

Natsuki doesn’t know what to say. The words stick in his throat, trapped by the sudden, unshakable realization that—at least right now—Shin understands him better than he understands himself. It’s a raw, disorienting truth, the kind that should leave him feeling vulnerable, as if someone had split his skull open and laid his most private thoughts bare.

But it doesn’t.

Because there’s no criticism in Shin’s eyes, no retribution in his touch where those fingers are still pressing absentmindedly into his forearm. No sharpness in his voice, no undercurrent of disapproval waiting to catch him off guard. Shin offers him something much softer than judgment—something more gentle, something safer.

Because to be loved, truly, is to be known—and to still be welcomed afterward.

“Alright,”Natsuki says at last, the word slipping out almost without thought, because what else is there to say? Nothing else is needed. And just like that, Shin’s attention drifts easily back to the movie, squinting through a particularly dramatic spurt of cherry-red blood on the screen and muttering a half-hearted complaint about how Natsuki distracted him.

Later, the next time Natsuki’s fingers brush that familiar scar between Shin’s seventh and eighth rib, that little spark of guilt still flickers to life in the back of his mind, but it's smaller this time, muted.

And in the dim, flickering light of the TV, he just barely catches it — the small, almost imperceptible smile that tugs at the corner of Shin’s mouth. It’s a quiet thing, easily missed if he hadn’t been looking. But he sees it.

And he knows.

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New Sakamoto Days illustration!

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Wanted to copy my switch screenshots from 2017 to now back onto my laptop to go through them but it's a whole ass 170Gb of files 😂😭

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sometimes thinking abt all the gaming youre gonna do later is what gets you through the workday and then you get home and do no gaming. not even a little bit of gaming

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Are acts of service really your love language or have you just internalized that love is a reward for being useful to someone

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Piisuke and shin 🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭💗💗💗💗💗💗