Waiting For Pt.3

waiting for pt.3

Isekaied as the Yandere Villain!? Pt 2

Part one

It was almost 2 minutes before I realized I was still dragging the crown prince behind me. I quickly dropped his hand and looked at him, not able to hide the embarrassment on my face. Listen- I’m committed to the bit. I WILL be the crazy jealous fiancé. But… I’m still human ok. I just dragged a full grown man down several halls and a flight of stairs while I spaced out thinking about how I’m gonna buy my cat premium wet food once I get back home to her.

It’s fine, I’m not flustered at spacing out about my cat, my characters just flustered because she’s been holding the hand of the man she’s obsessed with, that’s all!

“Well…. Did you still want to dine and take that walk?”

I expected him to scold me for my mistreatment of Cressida, grow irritated from me dragging him along like this. Instead, he chuckles and threads his arm in mine, and begins escorting me down the hall.

“Absolutely, have you dined outside by the roses yet? There’s this lovely pavilion that I am eager to hear your thoughts on.”

And that’s how I found myself under an impressive array of roses, all trained up and around a cozy dining area, creating a canopy of green and pink over an intimate tea table. The food was equally impressive, I had to keep reminding myself that the other me is used to this lavish lifestyle, to not gawk at the fancy tiny sandwiches and deserts.

“Well? Is everything to your liking? ”

I’m going off script here, how am I supposed to know how the villainess would react to a romantic scene like this?? If my “evil crazy” side isn’t supposed to be directed at him, and she’s usually kinda distant and unsure around him…. That means I should probably respond pretty curtly, polite, yet not really engaging. But…. I’ve already messed that up…. I guess I can be more genuine when it’s the two of us like this. He can think that this version of me is the facade, that I’m pretending to be pleasant, and then will start to see what a jerk “I” truly am when Cressida’s around. Besides…. I almost feel bad for the villainess. She really just seems like she was shy. Who knows- maybe, if given the opportunity, she really would have opened up more. It’s clear she loved the prince, and just didn’t know how to show it. So, with that thought, I made up my mind.

“It’s breathtaking! Roses are my favorite flower, and I’ve never seen so many kinds in bloom at once…. Plus the food and company leave little to be desired.”

There you go- slip in some subtle flirting! I’m not quite sure what time period this is supposed to be, but I get the impression flirting as bit more high class here, and I think I can have some fun with that.

“I’m glad, to be honest I was a bit flustered asking you to dine with me… you caught me quite off guard today, but in a good way.” He reaches his hand across the table and places it on my own, “I’d like to do this more often, you and I. I feel like the confines of our current arrangement have left us practically strangers, despite being engaged for several months already. I’m enjoying just being companionable with you, even if it’s just existing comfortably in the same room.”

Ohhhh, I know I’m the villain in this story but I can’t help but root for him- what a sweetheart! It’s so obvious he’s been lonely, I can’t wait for him and Cressida to fall in love and have a couple of kids that they’ll spoil rotten. And in the meantime…. Maybe I do have a bit of evil in me, because I’m going to selfishly enjoy this handsome man treating me to lunches under roses and reading in cozy libraries while I can.

“I know exactly how you feel your highness. Now, you mentioned a walk?”

We spent the afternoon laughing and chatting, and it felt nice to chat without worrying too much about my role. He asked me about that book I picked out earlier, and listened attentively as I caught him up with where I’m at in the plot. In turn, I asked about what papers he’s been signing, documents he’s been drafting, etc.

The only thing I had to do was send glares to any young ladies we passed, settling my hand on his arm possessively, and I saw their eyes widen and faces disappear behind fans as they whisper to one another. I can picture this illustrated in a manhwa- the nasty princess sinking her claws into the gullible prince… hopefully all these ladies will start gossiping and we can really cement this evil persona of mine now that Cressida’s here.

When we returned to our separate apartments, I explored my rooms a bit until servants came to get me ready for dinner, and I slipped back into the frigid bitch persona. The servant girls dressed me in a slightly stuffy gown, but I had to admit, I looked gorgeous. I sat stiff and straight as they did my hair, forcing myself to be the very picture of cold indifference. I then dismissively thanked them for their help, then sat there awkwardly as they stared at me like I was crazy.

Ohhhh shit…. The original story hadn’t prepared me for this. My character was a villain, yes, but a side character for the most part! How was she supposed to act towards her servants? I went over what I knew- the novel showed the villainess alone quite often, usually obsessing over Eric and plotting/stalking. It showed her with Eric, and how distant and awkward their relationship was when together. And then of course the numerous scenes with Cressida where the Villainess did all sorts of heinous things to the sweet girl. But… it never depicted her with servants, or even any friends or other nobles. Just… Eric and Cressida. Was other me not actually a bitch all the time? Am I being unnecessarily rude right now? Oh god I’m such an idiot.

The story is told through Cressida’s point of view- of course there’s more depth to my own character than I initially thought! The Villianess must be a misunderstood introvert! Unsure of how to act around her crush, she’s fiercely insecure and jealous of this new girl who doesn’t struggle the same way she does. When she notices the prince slipping from her grasp, she acts out against Cressida because she can’t bear to lose Eric!

As someone’s who’s worked minimum wage jobs and struggled with social anxiety most of my life, I try to be nice to the people just working to survive, but here I am acting like these poor women are the dirt beneath my shoe…. Ok. Um. Well they’re still standing there in shock, I can fix this….

“You really did a lovely job… my hair has never looked so gorgeous, you’re truly talented! And I think the prince will be very pleased with this choice of ribbon!”

There- I was nicer, and I brought it back to Eric, so I’m still the lovesick fiancé whose entire world is waiting for her in the dining room. I frowned as the servants scuttled out of the room with hurried excuses, all of them looking like they were about to faint. Damn it… I can’t believe I misread the relationship between us. I probably just ruined their night by being uncharacteristically rude. I’ve gotta learn their names next time…. Maybe ask them to help me eat some fancy pastries as an apology…?

I didn’t know it, but while I was lamenting how wrong I was about the Villainess’ character, the servants were all gossiping to the others about what had just transpired.

“You’re telling me she said THANK YOU!?”

“Yes!!! And then you should have seen how nervous she got! She just rambled, blurting out such a sweet compliment, and she even tied it back to the prince!”

“I had no idea how precious she was… I can’t believe I never realized she’s just shy! In a new place, all alone aside from her new fiancé…. Who I gather she’s got a bit of a crush on! Poor dear.”

“Ohh our sweet girl, I’m sure it must be hard bonding with the prince, when all you do is sit yards apart and hardly speak …”

“Well I may have some news about that… and it’s no wonder she was a bit flustered today, because I saw the two of them in the gardens today! They were both nothing but smiles- absolutely smitten with one another!”

“Such a lovely girl, and we never knew it all this time!”

Apparently, I had it backwards. The real villainess truly was a 2D, basic character. She was insecure and possessive over the prince, bullying Cressida half to remind her who Eric belonged to, half for the fun of it. But she didn’t let on to anyone about the true depth of her love for him. She didn’t gossip to her handmaid, didn’t ask the servants which dress he would like better. Simply acted as if they did not exist, hardly saying a word to them.

While I thought my blunt “thank you” was colder than they were used to, and then tried to smooth things over…. It was more words than they’d heard from me in the whole time I’d lived in the palace. They lapped it up and declared me their own shy little dove after that.

When I arrived to dinner, I realized why daily dinners weren’t exactly a bonding activity for the villainess and Eric. The table was massive, and only held two chairs, one at either end. It felt so…. Cold?

Eric had beat me there, and quickly stood up from his seat, waiting until I sat and a servant pushed in my chair to retake his own seat. He smiled at me and said,

“Good evening, princess.”

He had to project his voice slightly. It wasn’t like he was shouting or being loud, it was just the manner of speaking you use when talking to an elderly relative, clearer, and enunciating better so they could hear you.

I replied back, projecting my voice similarly, and found the conversation was, in fact, more awkward than it had been earlier. We ate our food mostly in silence, occasionally one of us would say something and the other would stop moving their utensils on their plate, listening closer as they ask,

“What’s that?”

By the time dinner was over and we each went to bed, I felt drained. I could have just been louder I suppose- but it’s so hard to keep up a conversation like that. I know we get along- we had chatted all afternoon after all. But some part of me realized it’s probably good to keep a bit of distance between us, even if I’ve rewritten things to be a bit chummier between the two of us. Cressida needs to swoop in and steal him from me… and my job is still to leave that room for her to do so.

It’s hard trying to be someone else, yet also making sure you lead the plot in the right direction- it’s exhausting! I feel like both director and actress!

It’s with this in mind that I launch myself into the softest bed I’d ever felt, and passed out. My first day as princess consort, the Yandere fiancé, complete.

While I was getting acquainted with my feather bed, Eric was speaking with the head waitstaff.

“Yes, tomorrow, would you mind adjusting the seating situation? I’d like for the princess consort and I to be closer together from now on. Yes, and ask my assistant to arrange my schedules like so, I’ve detailed it here. Thank you.”

At the same time, Cressida was recounting her run in with the prince and I to her handmaiden as she finishing unpacking and settling into her family’s guest apartments. Which, unbeknownst to me… was right across the hall.

Aaaa! You survived your first day! And look at you- doing suuuuch a good job staying true to character. Nothing could go wrong… right?

Tag list for the series;

@bitternsweet @tonightwrites @confused-they @lanxianschoenheit @poptrim @siriuslyobsessedwithfiction @one-really-annoying-tree-rat @anonymousdisco @forbidden-sunlight

Tag list closed! Stay tuned for part 3!

I truly enjoyed this one. hopefully, more chapters could be added. buttt, these are enjoyable enough!

Kyojuro Rengoku-Delectable Fire

Foreign Chef Y/N

8 Chapters

Subjects: Fluff, Smut, Angst, Blood, Slight mention of abuse, Mature Language

Chapter One

Chapter Includes: Nothing special lol

6.2k words

You stood behind the counter, looking out the window at the empty road. Trees swaying in the breeze.

You sighed deeply as the minutes ticked by and no one came in.

Your mom and you traveled thousands of miles to Japan just for the adventure. This was your last stop on the journey. It was your moms dream to sell food in many different countries, so people would be able to experience the treasure that was her cooking. Her words, not yours. She was passionate about cooking.

She instilled all of her wisdom and skill into you. You've been cooking since you were 7. Small things, first of course, like creating doughs, baking, mixing, things that didn't require too much detail, up until you were around 10. That's when she started hammering everything she knew into your brain.

You were 13 when she decided to start the journey, and after 7 years, you've taken over. You didn't want to, but she insisted. With this being the place you would most likely live for the rest of your lives, she wanted to expand. You weren't making hardly any money here, so she wanted to go to another area of the state to see if you'd have more luck there. Well, after 7 months, nothing.

If you didn't start getting customers outside of your regulars, you would have to close and find other ways to make money. The thought made you sad. Your mom had been successful in the past but Japan was proving difficult. You had even learned to make the popular dishes here but you didn't have anyone to serve it to. Except your regulars, but they preferred your traditional home cooking. Thrilled to have experienced something different than what they were used to. They said it was like traveling, without actually having to. You're grateful to them, those regulars are the reasons you can keep the lights on.

Your thoughts were interrupted as your favorite regular stepped inside your small restaurant.

"Good afternoon Ms. L/N." He smiled brightly.

"Senjuro! We're like family." You smiled and playfully berated the young boy.

"Right, I'm sorry, y/n. Force of habit." He laughed although his cheeks warmed up, flushing pink.

This caused you to smile more. He was so proper and polite, always speaking to you formally despite how long he's been coming here and how much you know about each other. He felt like a little brother to you.

"No worries. How are you today?" You asked him watching as he took a seat at a table near the wall.

"I'm great. How are you? Have you heard from your mom since we last spoke?" He asked.

You walked over to the table, leaning against the table across from him.

"Yeah, she said her stall is doing good, she thinks people like the handheld things cause it's easy to eat. Said she'll be staying there to see if anything improves."

"That's great!" He smiled.

"Yeah it is."

"How is she doing? Is she safe?" He asked with a slight worry in his brow.

"You ask that a lot. She's safe. She actually wrote 'Tell Senjuro I am safe and well.' At the end of her letter." You laughed.

He always asked about her safety, but he never told you why when you asked. He would just say, "oh it's nothing, just making sure." Before your mom left, he did make her promise to mind her surroundings when closing at night, saying the town she was in just isn't as friendly as this one. That was the most we got from him, and we both figured it was because we're foreigners, so we let it be.

We're no strangers to people being mean and nasty just because we didn't look like or dress like them. Happened in every country we visited.

His cheeks reddened again. "Oh, tell her I don't mean to be a bother."

"You are not a bother. And tell her yourself? I know she would love to hear from you. Actually let me get the letters, she mentioned you in. I'll be right back." You told him before heading to the back, to go upstairs to your room.

At the time that your mom bought this building, you couldn't afford to find somewhere else to live, you got lucky that there was room spanning the size of the building, with a bathroom upstairs. Now that you were living alone because your mom relocated, the space felt empty and lonely. It didn't help that there were no windows up here.

You walked over to the desk and grabbed the letter your mom wrote, and blank paper for Senjuro.

When you got back Senjuro smiled.

"Thanks y/n." He said.

"No problem. So...what are you having?" You asked after you sat the papers and pen in front of him.

"Whatever the special is today, but I'm gonna wait until my brother gets here to actually order." He said.

You've heard nothing but good things about his brother. It was clear Senjoru admired him from the way he speaks about him and how his eyes brighten. You knew that he never came with Senjuro because he was a very busy guy, who works overnight.

"Oh really?" You asked in surprise.

"Yeah." Senjuro spoke his tone changing. "It was kind of a bad day yesterday, with our dad, so he asked what I would be doing today, and promised he would come meet me here. A-as a pick me up, since he wasn't there yesterday." He lowered his gaze, sadness in his eyes.

You sat down in the seat across from him. Crossing your arms on the table.

"Are you okay?" You ask quietly.

"Yeah, I'm okay." He replied. But you knew better. He wasn't. The very first time you met Senjuro he was here crying while he attempted to eat. You and your mom were so worried about the young boy you watched him carefully. He fell asleep at the table and was apologetic when he awoke, but you assured him it was okay and that he could sleep and sit there as long as he wanted. He came back everyday for a week, and by the end of the week, he told you a little bit about his dad's temperament. Quickly explaining that he was just sad inside.

Ever since then he's been coming to the restaurant as an escape when needed. Your mom adored him, and so did you. He became family fast. You never pried too hard into his life just accepting whatever he wanted to share. You still don't know for sure how things happen at home, but when he told you about his brother for the first time you felt much better. Thankful that he wasn't always alone and that he had someone while his dad was in his temporary but 'long term' state of grief.

It didn't make it okay, but you also tried not to pass judgement or speak too harshly about his father for his sake. You would always just settle for, 'you know if you ever need me, I'm here, and I can also be there if you need me to be too.' Reminding him that he never had to feel alone. Your mom would always tell Senjuro to give her the word and she would tell his Dad off so well, he'd quickly get his act together and be a good dad like he use to. Of course he'd never taken her up on her offer though. Also telling us that his dad was a powerful man.

Your mom did not care. And neither did you. Your mom had a way of cursing people out that you were so confident in, you knew she could set anybody straight. Especially after traveling for years and seeing up close and personal how huge men cowered away from your mother. She once even cussed out a King and he listened to her. You've never doubted her since.

"What do you want to drink?" You asked him changing the subject.

"Anything is fine." He answered looking relieved.

"Okay." You stood and walked into the kitchen. You grabbed everything you needed out of the cooler and cabinets. Humming a song to yourself as you made the drinks. You were making a creamy rice water drink, hoping Senjuro would like it.

When you finished, you poured some into two glasses, and made your way back to the table. You smiled as you sat down seeing that Senjuro had already filled up the front and back of a paper for your mom. As you pushed his cup over to him he smiled sheepishly.

"I kind of miss your mom."

"I know for a fact she misses you too. She's gonna be so excited when she sees you wrote to her." You laughed lightly imagining her face. She's going to cry. She thinks of Senjuro as her Japanese baby.

He took a sip of his drink, his eyes widening immediately after. "Whoa." He said before he took huge gulp. "Whoa." He replied again.

"So I guess you like it." You laughed playfully.

He nodded his head quickly, before finishing his cup.

"Let me get you some more." You said before you moved to get up.

"I'm sorry." He laughed. "You just sat down."

"Don't worry, it's fine I promise."

Once you stood grabbing his cup, the bell above the door rang.

"Brother!" Senjuro waved happily.

Your eyes lifted to the man walking over to you and it took everything in you not to drop the glass in your hand. It's just you and Senjuro here but his aura is demanding your full attention. You felt like you were in the presence of royalty or something. Someone deserving of the utmost respect.

"Hello Senjuro, I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long." He replied, his tone jarring but pleasant.

"Of course not. Brother, this is y/n l/n. Y/n this is my brother Kyojuro." Senjuro smiled as he introduced you two.

Kyojuro reached the table and bowed in greeting to you.

"Hello y/n, nice to meet you."

You returned it. "You too." You said quietly. "I'll be right back." You turned quickly on your heel and went back into the kitchen. Your heart was beating rapidly, and you didn't know why. There was no reason for him to be making you nervous.

You filled two cups, one Senjuro's, and walked back out to the table.

You sat the cups in front of the brothers. You could see from Kyojuro's legs that there wouldn't be much space for you to sit back down. Not without bumping into him.

"What's this?" Kyojuro asked.

As you told him the name you watched as his eyes widened while drinking it.

"Delicious!" He said very enthusiastically.

You glanced at Senjuro, who looked slightly embarrassed but held a smile on his face anyway.

"What's that spice?"

"Cinnamon." You told him, your eyes now back on Kyojuro.

"That's the most delicious drink I've ever had. Do you have more?" He asked in his same shockingly urgent tone.

His eyes glanced at your full glass still sitting on the table, when Senjuro pushed his cup to him.

Kyojuro immediately accepted the cup and drank his.

"Delicious!" He said again.

Without a word you went back to the kitchen, and poured the rest from the pot into a pitcher. You brought the pitcher out and sat it on the table.

Senjuro handed you your cup, like he was protecting it for you.

"Thanks" you smiled.

"Yeah." He smiled back.

"So Kyojuro" you said, your eyes almost leaving his face when he set his intense gaze on you, holding yours in place. "Please do look over today's menu, and let me know what you would like." You told him gesturing to the middle of the table where the menu stood.

"Hm." He replied with a nod of his head. "Do tell me what you recommend brother." He said to Senjuro.

"Everything is really good honestly, but I am going to have todays special." He answered.

"Okay, I'll have the same." Kyojuro enthused.

You watched as Senjuro smiled wider.

How cute. You thought.

"Okay give me about 15 minutes. No more no less." You said before you turned away to the kitchen.

Inside, you grabbed your dough you prepped this morning and began warming up the meat you've already made.

As the meat warms, you sprinkle out some flour before placing your dough on the counter. You knead and work the dough the couple of minutes it takes you, before you warm up your oil. Once back at the counter you hear the bell, your eyes quickly flying up to see one of your usual customers. You smile at him as he walks to the counter in front.

"Hello maker of my day!" He smiles at you.

"Hello Yoshimatsu." You say in a sing song voice, giving him the same energy he gives you everytime he visits.

"You know that I want, whatever you're giving." He beams. His eyes bright with humor.

"You got it. You're right on time actually. I’ll have it to you in just a few minutes."

"Sounds good." He says before tapping the counter turning to take a seat.

You direct your attention back to your task as you hear him greet Senjuro. He greets his brother, and the tone of Kyojuro's voice makes you look up at him. It's the same volume as before but less cheery. You glance up to see that the smile he wore wasn't present. The sight making you smile. That's the face of a protective brother. You think to yourself.

Attention back to the most important task, you fill your dough with it's necessary contents, before closing them and then dropping them in the oil. You're back and forth, quickly moving to get your sides plated, which are always warm and ready to go.

Also making more of the creamy rice water drink from before.

In just a couple more minutes you are bringing plates out to the counter.

You take Senjuro and his brother their steaming plates, watching as they both smile, similar smiles. You grab the empty pitcher and return to the kitchen filling it, and grab a water pitcher before returning and placing them back at the table. Then you grab Yoshimatsu's from the counter, bringing to him his plate and a glass of water.

"Wowww." He sighs, as he takes in the aroma.

You smile at his reaction.

"This is new." He said looking up at you.

"Yea-"

"Scrumptious!"

You turn your head quickly to the booming voice from behind you. Yoshimatsu as well.

"This is incredible!" Kyojuro exclaims again.

You remember Senjuro telling you that Kyojuro was very unique with an even more distinctive relationship with food. This must be what he meant.

"Scrumptious!" He says again, taking another bite of his food.

You smile and turn your attention back to Yoshimatsu.

"Yeah, this is the first time making it here, we finally got the ingredients we needed in."

"Ohhh okay." He replied "your presentation in impeccable."

Your smile morphs into a sarcastic grin. "I just put it on the plate Yoshi."

"And it turns out like a work of art everytime." He grins back, playfully.

"Oh please." You laugh, "tell me what you think." You gesture to his plate.

You wait as he eats some of everything. His immediate reaction told you everything you needed to know, now you were just waiting on his verbal declaration.

"Amazing." He sighs when his mouth is clear. "You're an incredible chef."

"Thank you." You smile. "I'll leave you to it." You say before he nods and you walk away. You see that Kyojuro's plate is empty, and your eyes widen as you approached the table.

"That was fast." You said to him.

He laughed, loudly.

"Yes, it was simply incredible. Is there anymore?" He said his bright eyes on you.

"Yeah." You smile before taking his plate.

After getting more, you return to the table and set the newly filled dish in front of him.

"Thank you." He exclaims before immediately diving in.

"Tasty!" He exclaims.

You raise your eyebrows at the outburst, surprised he made it just seconds after a bite.

Senjuro let's out a quick laugh. "Ignore him, it's sort of an absentminded thing he does. Unless you manage to distract him."

You nod your head, an amused smile growing on your face. You look at Senjuro's plate. He's not even halfway done.

"How is it?" You ask him.

Another tasty exclamation comes from his brother, and you laugh at the timing.

"What he said." Senjuro smiled.

"Cool, I'll leave you to it." You say, your usual statement, before walking back to the kitchen. You straighten and clean up a bit as you listen to Kyojuro's outbursts.

When you're done, you stand behind the counter and talk with Yoshi. He tells you about what his night will look like, the jokes he's got planned, and the woman he's finally going to introduce himself to.

You banter back and forth until he leaves an hour and a half later. You clean and put away his dishes silently as you didn't want to be too noisy in the background of Senjuro's and Kyojuro's conversation.

When you finish you lean against the counter, internally sighing as no other customers have come by. Kyojuro's high energy voice pulls you out of your personal thoughts.

"Y/n, please, join us." He said, his eyes on you.

You smile and walk over to their table. "I didn't want to intrude." You say, glancing down at Kyojuro's legs like earlier. He honestly was in your way. Maybe not so much but you were worried about accidentally making contact with him, bumping into him as you moved into the bench.

"We're family remember? You don't have to worry about that." Senjuro smiled at you.

Your smile widened. "Yes, you're right." You glance at Kyojuro's legs once more, hesitant to sit. "Let me clear this for you first, do you need me to bring anything else back?" You grab their empty plates and cups and pitchers, balancing them carefully in your arms.

"No thank you." They both say in unison, causing them to laugh together.

"K." You say before you turn to walk away.

When you return Kyojuro is standing beside the table. He gestures for you to sit down first.

You semi nod in thanks, and then slide into the bench, sitting in front of Senjuro. Once Kyojuro sits back down Senjuro pulls the letters back out. He carefully slides them over to you.

"I hope your mom can smile from my letter. And thanks for letting me read hers." He says.

"Aw Senji, of course." You smile at the sweet young boy in front of you. You have no doubt his letter would bring joy to your mom.

"Your mom, where is she?" Kyojuro asks.

"3 towns over, testing the waters there."

"Ah, looking to expand?"

"Yes. We don't get enough customers here."

"Is that so? I can't believe it."

"Yeah, people just don't come in."

"Hmm." He said, his hand coming up to rest on his chin.

"It's a shame, they're missing out on really great food." Senji chimed in.

"They certainly are. Tell me y/n, how did you become a culinary expert?"

"Oh, I'm certainly no expert, but my mom taught me everything I know."

"I disagree. I've never tasted anything as pleasant as what you served us today. You deserve the highest title of recognition."

You smile shyly at the high praise he gave you. "I just follow my mom's recipe." You mumble.

"And you excel at executing it." His large bright eyes burning into your own, suddenly becoming way too much paired with the compliments. You look away, eyes on your fingers.

"Thank you." You reply.

"Yes." He nods.

After a few beats of silence you speak.

"So Kyojuro, Senji tells me you do really important work and are highly skilled at what you do too."

Kyojuro nods again, turning to look at his brother with a smile.

"Yes, I do my best. I'm pleased that it doesn't go unnoticed."

"What kind of work do you do?" You ask.

Senjuro gasps, his hands flying to his brother. "He's a fighter. Right Kyojuro." He looks at him with a worried look in his eyes.

You look between them both, seeing a silent interaction happening between them.

"Yes, I fight." Kyojuro said before his eyes land back on you.

That's vague, and maybe a little strange as far as occupations go, but seeing that non verbal exchange made you drop it.

"Oh okay, cool." You reply. Senji noticeably relaxed at your response.

"So y/n, where are you from?" Kyojuro changes the subject.

You tell him and he looks intrigued.

"What's it like there?"

"Mostly warm, sunny, beautiful. Some places are really sandy and dry, others are lush and green."

"Sounds beautiful." He replied.

You guys talked, getting to know each other, Senji offering random facts about each of you when it seemed as though you forgot to say them yourselves. While you were immersed in conversation it did not go unnoticed by you that still no one came in.

"I think I ought to get home, and check on father." Senji said after your conversation died down.

Kyojuro nodded to him before standing from the booth. "I'll walk you before I go on patrol."

You got up, bringing the letters with you, followed by Senji.

"It was most pleasurable to meet you." Kyojuro said smiling at you, his eyes closing with the action.

You found yourself blushing at the sincerity you felt radiating from him. He genuinely seemed pleased.

"It was, I hope to see you again." You replied, your own expression turning into a smile.

"You will indeed." He answered.

Senji held his money out to you. You were reluctant to take it, eyeing his hand momentarily. You remember him telling you that it was honorable for a man to pay for the services he received and that if you didn't accept his payment for his meals, it would reflect badly on him.

You held your laugh in when he said that, but you could see he really wasn't going to just eat for free. So you took it, but you do have all of his payments in a small box upstairs, ready to give back to him one day. You'd never tell him this though.

"Thank you." You told him to which he smiled brightly.

"Of course, see you soon." He said before he hugged you.

They turned to leave and you busied yourself with inventory and cleaning.

—————

Yesterday was awful in terms of business but no surprise there. Only one more of your regular customers came in after Senji and Kyojuro left. You were starting to think they only came in because they knew business was super slow

You were downstairs in the kitchen after having showered, making yourself breakfast because you could not sleep. Stress had kept you tossing and turning throughout the night. At the moment you were grinding your coffee beans when a light knock on the door caught your attention. Looking up you saw Kyojuro standing outside, his hand raised in a wave. You felt heat rise to your cheeks for forgetting to close your shades because you looked a mess.

You stopped your actions and walked to the door, unlocking it before letting him in.

"Hey Kyojuro." You smiled stepping back so he could walk in.

Once he stepped inside he closed the door and locked it.

You noticed he had a sword on his hip this time.

"Did you just get off work?" You asked him, eyeing his sword.

"Are you okay?" He asked you. Looking at you intently, his brows slightly furrowed and that smile that almost never left his face yesterday wasn't present.

"Yeah, is everything okay?" You responded, worry settling into your bones. What is going on, what's this sense of urgency?

"No." As soon as he spoke, you heard a noise upstairs, like a chair scraping across the floor.

You froze in place.

"There was no else here with you right?" Kyojuro asked, his hand moving to his sword.

You couldn't speak, you just shook your head no.

He turned around swiftly closing your curtains over the windows and the door.

There was another scratching noise upstairs, before a loud thud was heard. Something falling?

"Stay right here." He said before running upstairs.

You watched him go, your eyes wide with shock.

When he got upstairs you heard commotion before a glass shattered. A few seconds later you heard footsteps coming down the stairs. You were rooted in your spot, praying it was Kyojuro.

When you saw the yellow hair you sighed in relief. He closed the door to your room, turning to look at the back door.

"Do you have a handy man?" He called to you, his voice clear even though he was far away from you.

"No." You replied.

"You need one." He said.

"What's going on? Someone broke in?" You said, taking steps to bring you closer to him.

"Something." He said.

"Something?" You asked looking past him and seeing the door. The handle was broken.

"Yes, a demon." He replied turning to look at you.

You were still feeling uneasy so you stood staring at him for a few moments before what he said dawned on you.

"A demon?"

"Yes." He said.

"Wait.....you're just joking with me right?" You shifted awkwardly, scratching your arm absently.

"I am not. There was indeed a demon upstairs."

"A demon?" You asked again.

"Yes." This time, his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he spoke.

There's no way he's saying what you think. They exist? Like tangibly? Not as metaphors?

"Ok, that's not funny Kyojuro."

"What ever do you mean? I don't intend to joke, I am not joking."

"Kyojuro, please, I'm serious." You whispered.

"I'm not joking."

"So you're telling me demons exist and one is in here without me knowing?"

"Was, not anymore, but yes. Are you feeling okay?" Kyojuro's tone turned from his calm to concerned.

"Mhm." You replied. Your heart was racing, palms clammy and an uncomfortable feeling was growing in your gut.

This news was unsettling, and your mind was having difficulty accepting it. It had to be a joke.

"Y/n?" Kyojuro’s voice called from far away.

————

Kyojuro's POV

I do hope she's okay. It's been a while.

Y/n had fainted downstairs, I think from shock. The news about a demon being here must've been too much.

I brought her upstairs to lay down comfortably and then I made sure to clear the evidence of her room having been occupied by such an unsightly creature.

Y/n finally moved. I leaned forward to get a look at her face. She was waking.

"Kyojuro." She said. Her eyes were still closed, her voice quiet.

"Yes?" I asked.

She was silent for a long while, I thought she had fallen asleep, until she sat up abruptly.

"Kyojuro...." She mused.

I had the feeling she wasn't actually calling out to me, so I remained silent.

"You're here.....so that means....I wasn't dreaming......." She trailed off.

She stood suddenly and started grabbing clothes out of her cabinet.

"Are you going somewhere?" I asked as I watched her quick movements.

"Yeah."

"Where?"

"To my mom."

"Right now?"

"Yes!"

"Okay." I replied, standing from my spot on the floor. I began walking out of her bedroom space.

"Wait, please." She said stopping her movements.

"Don't leave me in here." She said softly, fear evident in her eyes.

It made me feel sad to see such a look.

I stopped and stood beside her. Nodding my head.

She turned back around and continued packing things into her bag.

I could see that her hands were shaking, she was doing her best to keep it under control though.

"What do you usually do to relax?" I asked her.

"I....um, cook...or eat." She spoke.

"Hmm...would you like to try doing one of those things? We can go get food?"

She stood up from where she was kneeling in front of her cabinet, leaving her bag on the floor.

"Okay. I can cook." She replied. Her tone and her eyes aloof.

She absently played with her fingers as she walked past me, making her way to the stairs.

I followed closely behind her. Pausing when she did at the bottom of the stairs.

"Y/n?" I called from behind her.

"Hmm?"

I placed my hand on her shoulder, "you sure you can cook?"

"Yeah." She replied before continuing her walk to the  kitchen.

I stood in the doorway watching as she pulled ingredients out and washed her hands.

"Coffee?" She asked in that same far away tone.

"Sure." I answered. I didn't want her to do anymore work, but if it would calm her then I welcome it.

She began grinding the beans, before putting them into a small pot. I watched intrigued as she moved on to making food, I couldn't tell what she was making but I knew it would be grand. As she cooked and maneuvered through the kitchen I saw her become more relaxed, her hands no longer trembling. She was in her zone.

I noticed though that every so often she would look at me, as if checking that I was still standing in the doorway.

I smiled at her antics although I also felt sympathy for her.

A few minutes later and she handed me a hot cup of coffee.

I drank it immediately.

It was like a taste of joy. It was sweet and strong. Setting my senses on fire.

"Yum!" I said, needing to express the excitement coursing through me.

She smiled at me. "Not too hot?"

"No, not at all!" I told her.

"Interesting." She mused.

"How so?"

"Just is."

"Okay." I laughed.

"You can go have a seat. I'll bring the food out to you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." She replied.

I walked out to the front and sat at the large table in front of the counter. I drank the rest of the yummy coffee she made me before setting my cup down. I'd need to send a message to Senjuro, he may be expecting me home, but I have no idea when I'll get there. She's doing better but for how long?

Y/n brought out the food and all my other thoughts ceased. When she sat down in front of me I dug in. I was aware of the surprised expression she wore at my outbursts but I didn't care much. This food was most delightful and I couldn't hide that.

Y/n picked over her food, worry on her face.

"You need to talk?" I asked her.

"I don't think it will help." She said.

"Want to try?"

She looked up at me, like she was deep in thought.

I held her gaze, holding my remarks as the taste of her food was still overwhelming my mind.

"Yeah." She replied finally.

"Okay. Unload your thoughts, and questions." I said.

"I.....I guess....I don't know where to begin."

I didn't respond. I just sat quietly, waiting for her to find the words, for her to find where she wanted to begin.

A minute later she spoke.

"So...demons...are evil...they want to hurt you right?"

"More than likely."

She looked fearful and surprised.

"There's speak of demons who don't harm humans, but if you see a demon....and it looks like a demon, it's best to run away and call for help."

"How do I know if one won't harm me?" She asked.

"You won't know. You can never be too sure, but demons who disguise themselves to blend in with humans may be the ones, but again, don't take that chance. Assume they all want to hurt you."

After a few beats of silence, "so the one that was here....would've killed me?"

"Yes." I told her truthfully.

I noticed she was trembling again.

"So how did you...kill it? And how did you know it was here?"

"I sensed him as I was in the area. And I beheaded him."

"You....weren't scared?" She asked.

My laugh left my throat before I had time to think about it.

"Of course not."

"Because you've known they existed?"

"That and because I'm a demon slayer. It's my duty to kill them."

"A demon slayer?" She seemed shocked.

"Yes, there are many of us. Not nationally known or recognized but we're a whole organization, my father was one as well, in fact I followed in his footsteps."

I continued to explain to her my position, my job, and the oath I set upon fulfilling.

"Wow." She answered wide eyed. Then, for the first time today she smiled. "I see why Senjuro didn't tell me what you really do, but shared his admiration for you and your father."

I smiled as well. Im delighted to know Senjuro is proud of me. Of his father, despite who he's become.

"Thank you Kyojuro, I'm indebted to you for saving my life today."

Her smile remained, her voice sincere.

"It is an honor to have removed the filth from your home and establishment. I would do it a million times over."

Her smile grew bigger. "You say the word, and anything I have to give you is yours."

"Really?" I beamed. I could already think of something only she can give me.

"Yes! Without a question."

"Yesterday, you made the most splendid of drinks....it would be such a gift to have again today."

"Say no more. Give me just a couple of minutes." She stood from her seat. Reaching for my now empty plate.

"Okay." I responded smiling at her before sitting back in my seat.

As she moved about the kitchen, I kept my eye on her. She was indeed doing better but I wanted to make sure. Just in case.

Our eyes met a couple times. I think she was checking to make sure I was still there. It was cute honestly because of the small embarrassed smile she gave me everytime.

When she brought me more food and a pitcher of the sweet drink from yesterday I thanked her.

"No problem." She smiled.

We were silent as I ate, except from my remarks of the quality of the food. I really couldn't help myself. Y/n only smiled at me when I made them.

"Where did you say your mom was located?" I asked her after I finished all of the deliciousness she provided me.

Retelling me, my eyes narrowed as I thought about how long her trip would be. It would take 8 hours for her to get there.

"By the time you get there it will be dark. The sun sets an hour earlier there." I said to her.

Her eyes widened briefly. "Oh yeah? I didn't think of that. But I'm sure I'll be fine."

I nodded. She would be fine. I'll make sure of it.

I helped her with her dishes much to her disdain, before accompanying her up stairs so she could get her bag and change her clothes.

She was wringing her fingers as we ascended the stairs, and she paused before stepping beyond the dividers to her sleeping space.

I could hear her rustling through her cabinets and chests before hearing the movement of her getting dressed.

"Kyojuro.." she called.

"I'm here." I replied.

She stepped back into the living space, a small smile on her lips.

"You're so quiet, I thought you disappeared."

"Sorry." I smiled.

I followed behind her down the stairs, admiring her outfit unabashedly. Her attire was indicative of her culture I believe, based off of the description she gave of the environment. She was wearing a wide brimmed hat, a flowy blouse that swayed and bounced with the movement, and a floor length skirt that flowed with her movement too. At her waist was a red sash with the most beautiful floral designs embroidered into it.

She turned and examined the back door, her mouth dropping open when she realized she couldn't close the door leading to her room. I had to tie the handles together so that no one could come in through the broken back door.

"Thank you Kyojuro." She said. "I didn't know what I was going to do."

"You are welcome." I stated simply.

I followed close by as she turned off the lights, and then headed to the front door.

As she locked the door I admired her attire further, as the breeze caught the fabric of her clothes.

When she turned around to face me I smiled.

"Thanks for everything Kyojuro." She said.

"Of course." I nodded. "Please be careful on your journey today."

"I will."

"Okay."

"Bye Kyojuro." She smiled.

"Goodbye Y/n." I smiled back. When she turned away I remained in my spot, I would watch until she was no longer in sight.

I began to worry after a few minutes when she hadn't turned back at all. Is she not aware of being watched? Can she not feel someone's gaze on her?

As if I had spoken directly to her, she turned around and waved at me. I would be lying if I said it didn't make me smile and feel warm inside. She was almost a mile away, but let me know she was aware of my presence.

Maybe she will be okay.

She will be okay.

******

Next

---

the betrayal for a katsu xd

“are ya sure yer not dating (y/n)?” osamu suddenly asks his brother during a quiet lunch between the two of them.

atsumu chokes on the grains of rice in his mouth, coughing violently and punching his chest. when he finally settles down, he throws a glare at his brother. “what the hell, ‘samu?”

“that’s not an answer.” osamu continues to press.

“we’re not!” atsumu answers, picking up a piece of chicken katsu with his chopsticks. “i don’t like them like that. they don’t like me like that. we’re just friends.”

the bright red-pink of his ears speak otherwise. you see, osamu knows his twin better than he knows himself. he knows that whatever comes out of atsumu’s mouth is a load of crap. just friends? yeah fucking right.

osamu has never seen his brother look at anyone the way he looks at you, starlight and pure adoration swirling in his irises. he acts as if your every word were an earth-shaking prophecy sent by the heavens. his honey brown eyes stare, and he smiles so gently that it makes him sick.

friends aren’t touchy in the way you guys are. you hold each other’s hand like it’s nothing. with interlocked fingers, atsumu will trace his thumb down the back of your hand for no apparent reason. when you’re bored, you’ll take atsumu’s hand into your lap and play with it, bending his fingers, comparing hand sizes, and running a featherlight touch across the expanse of his palm to see if he’ll react.

osamu notices how you never miss the opportunity to find a seat on his brother’s lap. whether there are no seats of available or ten open ones, you will always choose atsumu. and it’s not like he’s complaining about it. in fact, osamu thinks that he waits for it because atsumu would never want to miss the chance to secure his arms around your waist and whisper into your ear amidst a loud conversation.

and you can’t forget the cuddles, and the hugs that linger longer than they should, and the way you’ll cup atsumu’s face, and the way you play with his piss blond hair.

you’re the one person atsumu lets wear his jersey to his game. he ensures you get the best seat to watch him play. osamu doesn’t miss the way his twin looks at you before every serve or the way you cheer the loudest when he scores an ace.

osamu doesn’t think that someone who “doesn’t like you” would be thinking about you every time they shop. “(y/n) likes this snack”. “(y/n) would love this shirt”. “oh hey, (y/n) showed me this”. “‘samu, should i buy this for (y/n)?”.

osamu has never seen two people so madly in love before. he doesn’t know how you guys haven’t realized it yet. and he can’t keep playing along because atsumu’s katsu looks really good right now.

“right…” osamu chooses to answer, dipping his chicken into the tonkatsu sauce. “i sure hope they’re gonna have fun on that date they have today.”

his brother’s chopsticks clatter onto the table before rolling onto the floor. the sight of atsumu’s open mouth filled with rice is unsightly, and osamu has to suppress his laugh.

“they didn’t tell you?” osamu raises an eyebrow.

“no?!” atsumu suddenly stands, slamming his palms into the table.

“yeah, i think they’re gonna leave soon.” osamu lies easily. there is no date. but of course, does ‘tsumu really need to know that?

the blond twin practically bolts away from the dining table and out of the house. when the door slams shut, osamu grins to himself, reaching for the unfinished plate in front of him.

“he can thank me later.”

atsumu brainrot never ends. something short and sweet bc school is kicking my ass.

---

I still can't find it, even the author. I don't know if they deactivated or they were reported. I found someone on Wattpad who's looking for the story too. I still have this screenshot since I archived the story.

Mesmerized | Rukawa Kaede

To put it simply, Y/n is the sister of Sawakita Eiji and she met Rukawa in a game. She yelled for him to lose too, instead of cheering, since he was against her brother. Rukawa also met her parents through video call (?), and Sawakita was already in America at that time. It was cute and I've been waiting for updates, but it turned out like this.

Honestly, this hooked me up more because it's rare to have a good story about Slam Dunk. And because there was a chapter where Haruko suddenly kissed Rukawa but got rejected. I think this was when she heard about Rukawa and Y/n.

TBD.

I once read a Wattpad story, where Rukawa met Y/n—who was Sawakita Eiji's sister. Its title was “Mesmerized” by blushblushbarbie. However when I checked the user account last time, it said that it was no longer existing. Any hopes from anyone if they know what happened? It was a good story, too, and interesting.

---

this is fun

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 ▶ a collection of tracks about friendship, trust and love

PLAYLIST CONTAINS: college!au, roommates, curseless, friends to lovers, polyamorous relationship, nsfw topics — please read warnings to each piece, reader discretion is advised

09:11 ▶ ONE BEDROOM? — short memory about how you found yourself sharing a bed with two of your best friends. // wc. 916

22:38 ▶ MOM ISSUES — late night talks, cuddles and lots of theatrics. that's what living with your boys mean, but your mom seems to see it a little differently. // wc. 800

06:51 ▶ COCOONED — one of those lazy mornings when you wake up trapped in a tangle of hands and legs. // wc. 655

14:08 ▶ BOUNDARIES — day when Suguru entered the shower with you. // wc. 1385

17:03 ▶ BRUTALLY HONEST — when Satoru asked you for a rather unusual favor. // wc. 934, suggestive

07:03 ▶ EARLY MORNINGS AND STOLEN CUPS — nothing better than the first cup of coffee in the morning. // wc. 572

21:58 ▶ BOYFRIENDS — two is better than one. // wc. 845

19:16 ▶ NEEDY AND SHAMELESS — Satoru was needy and couldn't deal with it himself. // wc. 2585, nsfw

16:48 ▶ CATORU — stealing Suguru's clothes just feels natural, but thing is — his hoodies are black... and Satoru's hair is white. // wc. 1079

taglist: @kibananya @r0ckst4rjk @rixo-19 @soraya-daydreams @hyun0200 @ilykii @roscpctals99 @mushkasstuff @siimp4youu @juicedcherry @themoreeviltwin @stevenknightmarc @ms5m1th @local-mr-frog @minimorale @lansy-4 @dancer545 @lordbugs @tojislittleprincesss @minniepresents @dorky-birdie @domainexpansionmypants

to be added to taglist let me know in the comments! ▼

have an idea for a situation in their story? let me know in ask box!

to see the newest posts, check 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 hashtag!

▼▼▼

---

KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR

WIND AND MOON • Sanemi x tsuguko!Reader

A/N: or, Sanemi nearly murders Maeda to protect Reader’s honor, featuring Reader getting to wear Sanemi’s haori.

A snippet from an upcoming chapter of Wind and Moon.

CW: MDNI • light strangulation (deserved) • implied past sexual assault against Reader (not described) • implied assault of Sanemi’s mother (not described) • protective Sanemi • soft Sanemi • ust kiss already jfc • violence

Sanemi Shinazugawa was never particularly keen on visiting the Corps’ tailor. His hatred for the bespeckled seamster was no secret among the slayers, nor was his reasoning. Most of the Corps disliked Maeda — particularly those female slayers forced to endure his unwanted attentions, who, when presented with too-small and too-short garments, saw his feigned incompetence for what it was: perversion.

Sanemi, however, was the one of the only few who’d ever called him out directly for being a lecherous asshole. And he certainly was one of the only ones who Maeda genuinely feared — enough so, that he became remarkably adept at his job whenever he heard so much as a whisper of the Wind Pillar’s presence.

And yet, Sanemi knew that their previous encounter — one that ended with Maeda pissing his pants while begging for forgiveness Sanemi had been in no position to give as the female slayer he’d groped stood nearby, red faced and humiliated — didn’t seem to have inspired the tailor to make any permanent changes to his deviant habits.

So no, Sanemi was already not in the best of moods as he stalked through the hallways of the Butterfly Mansion, in search of the fitting rooms where Kocho had informed him Maeda would be fitting his new tsuguko — you — for your final uniform.

He was wryly optimistic that the lecherous tailor wouldn’t try anything knowing who you were and of your proximity to him. But still, Sanemi didn’t like that he’d left you alone with Maeda for any period of time, and he was eager to get you suited up so the two of you could return to training.

Training. Sanemi had been warned that your breathing techniques, though powerful, were about as stable as a barrel of gun powder near a lit match. He would need to prioritize your precision, your control, before moving onto anything to do with your actual movements and fighting abilities.

He scowled. It would be a long day, he knew. You had an attitude and a smart mouth he was fairly sure couldn’t be beaten out of you, and grudgingly, he thought he might have to just endure it. You’d probably spend most of your time bitching; of that he was certain. But unluckily for you, you’d been assigned to the Hashira with the least amount of sympathy when it came to training; one whose disdain for complaining was rivaled only by Iguro’s.

At least he only worked his trainees to the point of vomiting or passing out; Iguro tortured the poor bastards, and he relished doing so.

And so, Sanemi began mentally tallying up the various exercises and tasks the two of you would undertake as he rounded the last corner leading to the fitting rooms. He would start with breathing techniques, he decided as he reached for the doorknob. Breathing techniques, and then physical exercises — pushups, planks, perhaps even over a bed of tacks for motivation, and then —

All of the Wind Pillar’s internal planning ground to a halt the moment he swung the door to the dressing room open. In an instant, all thoughts of endurance and strength-enhancing regiments dissolved as Sanemi’s vision turned crimson at what lay before him.

His tsuguko; and though you’d proven yourself more than capable of testing his patience, for once, it wasn’t your smart mouth that was making him see red.

It was the sight of you, standing up on a small pedestal before a great mirror, clothed in scraps of fabric that could hardly be called a uniform as the Corp’s perverted tailor circled you like a vulture does a piece of felled prey.

He didn’t need to look at you for long before his vision tunneled in on the seamster startling back from you as though burned, his eyes wide with fear as he stared at the reddening face of the Wind Hashira behind you.

Because Sanemi didn’t have to linger; he’d seen enough to know.

Your skirt hung a solid inch shorter than even the Love Hashira’s, its hem barely extending past the tops of your thighs. Your shirt was easily two or three sizes too small, preventing you from fastening anything but the bottom two buttons.

But it wasn’t the egregiously little coverage of your uniform that loosened the lid he tried to keep on his rage. It was your face. Though your back was facing him, he could see every inch of you — exposed as you were — reflected in that great mirror.

There was a rigidity in your limbs that Sanemi clocked instantly as paralysis; and the empty, haunted look in your eyes as they fixed wide and unseeing at some distant point on the floor coupled with the way you’d hadn’t so much as flinched when the door flung open signaled to him that you were not truly present in that room at all.

You were back at your family’s estate, blood-soaked and half-dead as you were forced to endure whatever it was those bandits had take upon themselves to do.

And Sanemi disappeared from the room right along with you. In that moment, he instead saw the countless other female slayers forced to endure Maeda’s greedy, wandering fingers over the years as they stood exposed under his beady little eyes.

He saw his mother turning rigid under his father’s too heavy, too rough hands as he dragged them down her body. Ma, who would force her mouth into that distant, practiced smile she always maintained in front of her children who were too young to understand why Kyogo dragged her by arm out the back of their home as he barked at them to stay inside until she returned.

He saw you; broken and bleeding in the snow, your clothes askew, unable to be left alone even in death; used.

Red. Red. Sanemi could only see red as his feet carried him across the floor.

“M-Master Shinazugawa!” Maeda squeaked as he began trembling; loud enoufh for his voice to carry down the hall, a futile effort to alert any nearby Corps members of the rage burning in Sanemi’s eyes as the latter advanced on him. “How w-wonderful it is to see you a-gain —!”

With nothing but a faint buzzing in his ears and an anger-numbed mind, Sanemi’s hand snatched the tailor around his throat before he could think the better of it.

“I thought I made myself pretty damn clear the last time I saw your ugly mug of the need for you to keep those filthy fuckin’ hands to yourself.”

Sanemi’s voice was a barely more than a growl, low and dangerous and vicious. “And I thought I told you what would happen if I caught you makin’ a mockery out of our uniform again.”

The seamster’s cheeks were rapidly turning purple as Maeda sputtered. But Sanemi only tightened his hold around the tailor’s throat, lifting him from the ground until his toes only scraped along the floorboards.

“Y’know, I’ve had to hold my tongue for far too fuckin’ long about you.” Sanemi cocked his head in consideration. A slow, wolfish smile stretched across his mouth, all sharp teeth and a vicious promise that he could and would rip out his throat. “But you’ve got some balls for someone who’s too much of a rutting coward to fight the demons we give our lives to exterminate.”

A crowd of curious and horrified junior slayers had gathered out in the hall, nervously watching as the Wind Pillar threatened to squeeze the life out of the Corp’s sole tailor.

Behind them, you remained frozen on the pedestal, though your eyes had shifted away from the floor, focusing instead on him.

Sanemi wrenched the tailor closer until they were nearly nose-to-nose, his fingers digging harshly into the soft, fleshy portion of the tailor’s neck. “And you dare make a mockery out of our uniform? You think I’m okay that you’re putting female slayers at risk by not giving them proper protection? What sort of person does that to their comrades?”

Sanemi’s pupils shrank to pinpricks. “You’re not even fuckin’ human. You’re no better than a god damn demon.”

The muscles in the Wind Pillar’s forearm rippled as his fingers crushed around Maeda’s throat. “And we’re required to put demons outta their fuckin’ misery. So, whaddya think that means for you, shitstain?”

There was a distinct wet dripping against the floorboards as Sanemi remained there, Maeda suspended before him.

Sanemi didn’t need to look down to know what it was; its scent alone was enough of a give away.

Urine.

That feral grin of his only widened. Good, Sanemi thought savagely. The bastard should fear for his life. And who gave a shit, really, if he took out the creep right then and there. It didn’t matter that he was the only tailor in their ranks capable of manufacturing their uniforms with speed and precision. Sanemi would trade his sword in for a needle, if it meant wiping away the stain that was Maeda.

But Sanemi’s wild, murderous rage was tempered by the sudden arrival of the Insect Pillar, who had appeared in the room in a blink of an eye, her small hand wrapped harshly around Sanemi’s wrist.

Her voice was hard and severe as she ordered, “Shinazugawa, stop!”

Sanemi only snarled in response, his hand squeezing tighter and tighter. Just a little more pressure and it would be over, Maeda would never harm another woman again —

Kocho wrenched on his arm once more. While her strength wasn’t enough to force his grip to relax, it did jostle Sanemi enough that he looked away, just long enough to catch the pair of eyes that watched him closely in the mirror.

Your eyes.

Sanemi found himself unable to look away as the two of you stared at one another in the mirror’s reflection. And though that haunted look remained, there was a newfound tightness in your gaze.

Pain, he recognized. There was pain in your eyes, too. And suddenly, Sanemi became all too aware of the fact you were still exposed, only now in front of a greater number of your comrades than before.

Sanemi held your eyes for one more moment before his hand opened around Maeda’s throat.

“Pissed himself like a little bitch.” He sneered, dropping the lecherous tailor to the ground where he crumbled like a napkin.

Maeda sputtered and heaved on the floor, color rapidly returning to his face as he gasped for breath.

Sanemi only looked after him with disgust.

The Butterfly Mansion’s mistress turned sharply toward the entryway. “Away.” She ordered before she turned back. But the instant the word left her lips, the gaggle of junior Corps members who had congregated in the hallway dispersed.

Sanemi cut his eyes to the Insect Hashira and saw a cold rage simmering in her eyes. Eyes that were not looking at him, but were instead glued to the sniveling mass on the floor, whimpering into a puddle of his own urine.

“P-please, forgive me, Master Shinazugawa! I must have packed the wrong uniform — I will sew a n-new one right away —“

“Save it,” Sanemi spat. “And get the fuck outta my sight.”

Though he wanted add in a kick for good measure, Sanemi held back. He was likely in deep enough shit as it was, once word reached the Master about what he’d done. He knew better than to continue testing the Corps’ limits.

Kocho inclined her head back toward the Wind Pillar. “I will see to it that a new uniform is prepared for her immediately.”

She made to step primly over Maeda’s shuddering form, but halted.

Kocho crouched down, low. “I think we both know that you’re better off keeping this to yourself and never mentioning it again, hm?”

Maeda turned his reddened face up toward the Insect Pillar and shrank under her withering glare.

Kocho’s answering smile was nothing but poisoned honey as she dropped her eyes to the wet stain that soaked the front of Maeda’s trousers. “If you wish to hold onto what’s precious to you, that is.”

She narrowed her eyes coldly, as though squinting for something, before she rose with a faint scoff, her threat hanging over Maeda like a cloud.

The Insect Hashira turned back to Sanemi. “I trust you will see yourselves out?”

Sanemi felt a rush of gratitude toward his comrade — likely only one of two among the Pillars who wouldn’t rat him out to the Master — and curtly nodded his head.

Kocho only gave him her usual, practiced smile. “Until next time, then.”

With that, the mistress of the Butterfly Estate departed. The moment the edge of her haori flapped around the corner of the doorway, Sanemi dropped his attention down to Maeda.

“Fuck off.”

The tailor made not a peep as he scrambled to his feet and he left the dressing room without a word.

——

Finally left alone, Sanemi turned to you.

“Y/N.”

You blinked, surprised. He’d addressed you by your first name — something that, until this moment, you’d been fairly sure he hadn’t known.

You made some noise in response, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, exposed as you are.

Shinazugawa didn’t seem to mind. “Let’s go.”

While you were just as eager to get the hell out of the dressing room and away from the Butterfly Mansion, you remained rooted in place upon that platform.

Not a moment had passed since Maeda had first unveiled your new attire that you hadn’t been acutely aware of your own exposure.

You gulped and cast your eyes around the room. You found the neat pile of the clothes you’d worn for the trip here folded in the corner of the dressing area. While Shinazugawa had made a point to keep his eyes on everything but you, you couldn’t fathom having to wear the scrap of a uniform you’d been given for the entire journey back to his estate.

But nor did you want to change again; you couldn’t, not when that would require you to be left alone, a possibility that seemed nearly as daunting as having to brave the trek home in little more than a loincloth.

You agonized over your options, especially as you felt Shinazugawa’s impatience mount. You shifted anxiously from foot to foot, arms wrapped tightly around your chest in a desperate attempt to keep your breasts concealed as you struggled to make the words — any words, really, dislodge from where they’d become stuck in your throat.

Annoyed by your lack of inaction, Shinazugawa looked back into the mirror. In its reflection, you saw him open his mouth, ready to snap at you, but the moment his eyes connected with yours, it closed.

An understanding passed between you right then, as heavy the silence that hung between you.

Shinazugawa considered you for a moment before his hands went to the front folds of his haori. A strange shyness fell over you while he shrugged out of it, causing you to drop your gaze as he rounded the pedestal, haori in hand.

He shoved the ball of white fabric at you, though he kept his gaze fixed pointedly at the ground. “Here. Use this to cover up.”

Timidly, you plucked the Wind Pillar’s haori from his outstretched hand and quickly turned away.

Though it sat cropped on him, the hem of Shinazugawa’s haori extended past the laughably short one of your skirt, providing your backside with a bearable degree of coverage.

It was warm; and to your surprise, it smelled nice, a familiar, grassy sweetness washing over you as you pushed your arm through one of the holes.

Shinazugawa had turned his back to you, his hands notched firmly on his hips as he waited. You tested the reach of his haori, relieved to find that you could wrap it around your front and hold it easily in place by folding your arms across your chest.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror. The white fabric reached a good three inches down your thighs, all vulnerable areas sufficiently covered.

It would do, you decided. At least until you returned to the Wind Pillar’s estate.

“I’m ready.” You said softly after a moment. Shinazugawa only looked back at you and nodded, before the two of you quietly made your way through and out the Butterfly Estate, setting down the path that led home.

Neither of you spoke for the entire journey. Instead, you were left to stare at the broad expanse Shinazugawa’s back.

The Wind Pillar wore a slightly modified version of the Corps’ uniform, you realized. His top was sleeveless and without the presence of his haori, you saw that his biceps and shoulders were just as solid and well-defined as the rest of him.

No wonder he’d been able to lift Maeda so easily from the ground; Shinazugawa’s biceps were huge. Though, you noted with some mild interest, the skin of his arms was just as scar-specked as the rest of him.

Idly, you wondered whether the scars dotting his face and body were products of his years with the Corps — a tapestry of battles hard-won, or whether they, like yours, were part of a past he wished he could forget.

You arrived back at the Wind Pillar’s estate shortly before sunset. The moment he set foot inside the gate surrounding his manor, Shinazugawa turns to you and holds up a hand.

“Wait here.”

Without another word, he disappears inside of his manor, leaving you alone in the courtyard, slightly bemused.

The Wind Pillar returned a few moments later, a familiar, dark green fabric draped over his hand.

“Here,” he held out the material to you. “Still had one from when I was a Mizunoto. Might not fit you properly, but it’s better than nothin’.”

You accept his offering and then it over in your hands, eyes running over the crisp white destroy sewn into the back. Below the shirt is a pair of pants, in the same, dark-green tinted hue as the shirt.

“I know it doesn’t mean much,” Shinazugawa’s voice was gruff as he spoke. Curious, you lifted your eyes to find him rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. “But if I’d’ve known what he was gonna pull —“

You shook your head. “Don’t. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Truthfully, you didn’t want his apologies. To apologize meant there’d been an expectation, and expectation meant there’d been some trust he’d broken. While he may have been your master — while he may have been the one whose face you could not forget from that day — nothing about either of those things meant he owed you anything.

Shinazugawa looked like he was going to argue, but he closed his mouth and turned away.

Good, you thought. At least he knew to pick his battles.

“We’ll start training once you get your uniform in.” He said after a moment, turning away to retreat into his estate. “Get settled here and once it arrives, we’ll start.”

You nod, your fingers clenching tightly around the front folds of his haori. Though you know you’re safe out here, that Shinazugawa has no interest in overstepping any of your boundaries, you still feel too exposed.

More than anything, you want to retreat to your small room at the back wing of his manor, and disappear under your covers.

The Wind Pillar seems to know, for he only gives you a curt nod, before he turns back to the great, sprawling Estate, and takes the entry stairs up two at a time.

You wait a moment before following. You’ll have to figure out how to return him his haori, you realize. Perhaps you’ll drop it off at his room later in the night, when he’s likely to be asleep, or maybe you’ll wait until breakfast —

“Y/N.”

Your foot halted mid-air as you lifted your head to him, waiting.

Shinazugawa lingered on his engawa, though he kept his back to you.

“I won’t leave you alone with another man again. That’s a promise.”

You wanted to snap at him that he shouldn’t do this — he shouldn’t create obligations that he couldn’t or wouldn’t keep. That was the only way this transaction between the two of you would work; Shinazugawa would train you and once you’d gathered enough of a grip over your own abilities, you’d fuck out of his life and pursue your own, greater ambitions.

That’s what you should say, and yet, his words strike at something soft in you. Reminds you, once again that for whatever reason, he is someone you can rely upon; someone you can trust.

The exception.

And it’s because of that, you only respond, “Thank you.”

---