I Really Like Your Analysis So I'll Send You My Theory. I Think Matakara Has Some Secret Because That

I really like your analysis so I'll send you my theory. I think Matakara has some secret because that shadow in his room is very strange and he didn't seem scared or surprised. Does he already know that Arajin has Senya? Is he not that kind? Could it be that your obsession with Arajin is to find out about Senya? lots of questions lol.

It's interesting because Matakara seems very convinced Honki people do in fact exist in this world despite getting older and the general consensus is it's all a fairytale. I don't want to make any assumptions about his character just yet because we don't actually know that much about Matakara. My working assumption is he is actually a decent person who has some baggage and he either might end up becoming misguided or corrupted. I think whatever happens will put most definitely put him in conflict with Arajin even if presently it seems like he genuinely just wants to be his friend again. I'm so fucking excited to see what happens.

Thank you thank you so much for taking my request! I wish there were more Bucchigiri fics out there. I love it so far! Matakara needs more love! And Shindo being a rival is perfect!

I'm glad you're enjoying it! Here's part 2! (ngl this might end up being a 4 or even 5 part story. I'm getting invested)

A Whole New World! An Unknown Admirer and an Unknown Enemy!

Matakara/f!Reader/Shindo, Pt.2

Summary: Your first day at Ichizu high has finally arrived! As you take the next step towards your long awaited fresh start, Matakara reflects on the past and looks forward toward a future with you and him, finally no longer separated. Meanwhile, Shindo is making plans of his own... wc: 2.6 a/n: There's a lot of references from Disney's version of Aladdin because of course there is. Enjoy!

“Arajin, you couldn’t have done worse if you had thrown the rock at her head.”

“It was supposed to be romantic! What do you know?” Arajin has half a mind to drop the book bag he had offered to carry for you. “It’s not like you have any experience.”

“I have common sense.” You retort lightly. “If you want to get anywhere with this Mahoro, you can’t ignore her feelings. Reign it in and don’t be so pushy.”

“Yeah, I know.” Arajin hangs his head, trudging alongside you; his frown only grows deeper as the school gates come into view. “Are you sure you don’t want to meet up for lunch?”

“What, you’re not eating with your girlfriend?”

“Ha ha.” Arajin hands over your bag, shouldering his own with a yawn. “Listen, keep a low profile, okay?” He scans the entrance gates with narrowed eyes. “It’s a mad house but you should be fine if you keep your head down and…keep close to Matakara.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Is that your way of giving us your blessing?”

“Ugh, stop! Look, if people know you’re cool with him, they’re not going to bother you.” 

“Maybe you ought to take your own advice; stop being such a big baby and start talking to him again.”

“Dammit, will you butt out?”

“I’m only saying, it’s obvious Macchan cares a lot about you. Can’t you just-?”

“Isn’t it bad enough we had to come back here?” Arajin cuts you off tersely. “The past is the past. Drop it.”

“Fine.” Your hand tightens around the strap of your book bag and you pointedly turn away to the Ichizu high’s doors. “I’m sorry I messed everything up for you. I didn’t ask to be here either, but I am and I’m going to make the best of it. If you ask me, the only one hung up on the past here is you.”

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like-”

“I’ll see you at home.”

You don’t give Arajin a chance to say anything else, opting to hurry off to your homeroom, wherever it was; the map Arajin had sketched out for you was still in your bag’s front pocket, but you didn’t want to do anything to slow down. You had to get away from him and the regretful look on your brother’s face. Even if he’s sorry, you can’t stand Arajin’s stubbornness; your nerves are rubbed raw and all you want to do is get through this day quickly. After the first day, surely you’ll feel more at ease being back in a classroom with other people. You don’t need your brother lecturing you to add to your anxieties. 

“Good morning!”

You flinch; you were hoping you wouldn’t run into Matakara before getting settled. As soon as you see him speed walking down the hall towards you, two unfamiliar boys trailing after him, all you can think about is how nice it would be to latch onto him and stick by his side for the remainder of the day.

“Good morning.” You wave and attempt a smile. “Hey, am I anywhere close to 2-C?”

“Sure, I’ll walk you.” Matakara skids to a halt in front of you, bright eyed and breathing a touch labored. “I can give you a tour later. These are my friends, Zabu Kakeru and Sakigake Komao, we’re all in the same class as Ara-chan.”

“I apologize in advance for any trouble my brother might cause.” You tell them with a sheepish smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yo.” Zabu regards you curiously. “You’re that shrimp’s sister?”

“Huh, I was expecting you to look prettier.” Sakigake looks you up and down. “Matakara wouldn’t shut up about you all week, so I kinda assumed you’d be a supermodel or something.”

“Hey, knock it off!” Matakara looks at you with a shaky smile. “He’s kidding, really, I was just telling them how we went way back and, er, you know, I was excited we’d finally be going to the same school.”

“You already seem less annoying than Shorty.” Zabu smirks at you from over Matakara’s shoulder. “Where is the brat anyway?”

“I told my brother dearest I could find my own way to my homeroom. He’s probably already in his class now.” You unzip your bag’s front pocket and take out a folded up piece of notebook paper. “I’m guessing he didn’t make the best impression.”

“Aw, don’t listen to Zabu, he skipped breakfast.” Matakara sidles up to you, looking over your arm to scan the crudely drawn map. “Did Ara-chan make this?”

“You can tell?” You’re a bit impressed. “I guess it looks pretty similar to those old treasure maps he’d make up. See?” You move in closer to show Matakara the place Arajin had marked your classroom with a big, bold ‘x’. “X marks the spot.”

“Thi-this looks about right, but it only shows you how to get to your homeroom.” Matakara moves back a few steps. “Why don’t you let us show you around?”

“Us?” Sakigake grins, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Sweet, now we have a reason to cut class!”

“Since when do we need a reason?” Zabu snorts. “I wouldn’t mind ditching the first period.”

“Um, I really shouldn’t.” You speak up carefully. “I don’t know if Macchan told you, but I’m a bit easily winded. I wouldn’t want to slow you guys down and I really should stick to my schedule.”

“Lame.” Sakigake pouts. “Matakara said you were cool.”

“He did?” You eye your old friend with a half smile. “Sorry to disappoint you, but believe me, he’s exaggerating.”

“We could give you a tour during lunch.” Matakara offers, face flushing slightly. “I was hoping we could all hang out, maybe do something after school? You said if we ever attended the same school we’d do stuff together, like get lunch or study and all that…”

“I did?”

Matakara nods quickly. “You pinky swore.”

“Well, I can’t break a pinky promise.” You’re beaming; somehow, he always knows just what to say to get you back in good spirits and you feel like you’ve gotten your second wind. “Alright, I’ll drop by your homeroom for lunch period, but if you change your mind and just want to be with your buddies-”

“Not a chance; I want you to get the whole high school experience! We’re all going to grab food at the cafeteria and picnic on the rooftop, you’ll see, it’s gonna be a lot of fun.”

You don’t need convincing. “I’m looking forward to it. I’ll see you at lunch then.”

“Awesome.” Matakara grins. “No take backs, okay?”

You make your way to your homeroom, waving over your shoulder at the three boys; when you turn the corner, Zabu and Sakigake glance at one another as Matakara stands there, hand still waving despite you not being in his line of sight any longer. The expression on his face is similar to one might make if they were beat silly over the head a dozen times with a sack of bricks. 

“Why do I feel like we’re gonna be third and fourth wheels?” Sakigake leans over to whisper in Zabu’s ear. “Cause I won’t be able to keep my lunch down if those two start going at it at his desk.”

“Ew.”

“Sorry guys; you don’t mind me volunteering you for the tour, do you?” Matakara finally regains some semblance of awareness and smiles at the two boys bashfully. “She’s putting on a brave face, but I know she’s feeling nervous being here.”

“It’s fine.” Zabu shrugs. “Are you sure she’d want to hang around with us though?”

“Huh? Of course.” Matakara says simply. “You guys are awesome”

“Cut the crap.” Zabu crosses his arms, but he can’t contain a small smile. 

“Zabu, Sakigake, I really would appreciate you guys helping me make her feel welcome here.” Matakara grins softly. “I guess I’m hoping if anything happens, you two will have her back like how we look out for each other. I’d like that.”

“Alright, alright, we gotcha.” Sakigake thumps Matakara on the back between his shoulder blades. “Let’s see how things go; you know, she might end up making friends in her class though?”

“Oh, right.” Matakara hadn’t really thought of that. “I guess. But until then, I want to do as much as I can to help her until she’s settled. She’s a really good person, you’ll see when you get to know her a bit.”

Matakara remembers you were all but bedridden and barely able to walk past your own front yard for most of the time he knew you; if he wanted to see you, he would have to go to your bedside or sit with you in the backyard where Yayako had planted you a small plot of veggies to help keep you occupied. You spent a good amount of time there, trying to soak in the sun and the fresh air, a book in your lap and Matakara glued to your side, following along or listening to you read aloud. You never failed to ask him how he was doing, how his brother was, ushering him to take home any of the vegetables you spent so much time tending to with the little strength you could muster to do so. You, who seemed so small and frail in spite of being a head taller than Matakara and with a much thicker skin, had no shortage of time or energy for him to come to you for advice or to wipe away his tears. Back in those days, he admired Arajin, borderline idolized him, but you were something else entirely in Matakara’s eyes. 

When you moved away, Matakara cried until his eyes were raw and his stomach ached and then he cried some more. Now you’re here, finally able to be out and about like you always wished you could do and attending Ichizu with him. It’s like a dream come true; Matakara could hardly contain his own joy when your somber expression brightened at his offer to meet up. He’s essentially bound now to make sure you enjoy yourself at Ichizu high. Even at this moment as he listens to Zabu and Sakigake go over what they should do after school ends, Matakara wants to rush out to your classroom and take a seat at your side and stay there for the rest of the day. Really, how can he do anything else when you give him such a blindingly gorgeous smile? A smile like that should be protected at any cost; Matakara is almost ashamed at how eager he is for you to turn to him for support the moment you feel any discomfort or unease with your new surroundings. 

“I should be wishing her good luck and for her to make a lot of new friends.” Matakara slumps at his desk, hardly conscious of the rest of the world around him. Not even Arajin’s cold shoulder in response to his morning greeting phased him, at least not as much as it would have before your arrival. “I thought I was over being so childish. I’ll have to be careful not to get too clingy; we’re not little kids anymore and it’s not as if I can keep her all to myself.”

Matakara buries his face into his arms; he can feel his cheeks burning. In spite of admonshing himself for getting carried away, he simply can't force you out of his head. It doesn’t help that you somehow managed to become even cuter over the span of five years. No, scratch that: cute doesn’t cut it. The sensation of you leaning in slightly to show him the hand drawn map had nearly caused Matakara to freeze up just from the feeling of your shoulder pressing against his.

“So pretty. I remember her being cute but now? I mean, seriously…she has those eyes and that hair and…that smile...” 

Matakara exhales; imagining your warm, gentle smile alone is making him lightheaded. All those times Matakara spent leaning on you, head on your shoulder, so brazenly nuzzled against your side and he had nearly done so again out of habit or perhaps instinct only minutes before.

“She smells nice too. I still wish we had the same homeroom. If I asked, maybe she would read to me again and let me hold her.” Matakara presses his face harder into his arms, pretending he has you in them, your own arms wrapped around his neck, his mind somehow hearing your voice low and soft in his ear. “Wanted to hold her so bad…she’s so pretty and smells so good."

“Matakara Asamine?”

“Asamine-san, wake up, roll call.” 

There’s a tap on Matakara’s shoulder from the student seated behind him and he raises his head; everyone is staring at him. Had he been asleep? How many times had the teacher said his name? Even Arajin is turned in his seat, looking his way but turns his head immediately when they make eye contact. After a moment, Matakara finds his voice to call out a hasty response.

“Here!”

The teacher goes ahead with the next name and even though no one dares laugh at him, Matakara is self conscious anyway. He knew it would be hard to keep himself in check around you, especially considering how long he had spent hoping to see you again one day, but Matakara had no idea exactly how hard it would hit him. If anything, his feelings for you have only gotten more intense. 

“I’ve decided…I’ll do everything I can to make her wish come true. We’ll make a whole new world, one where she can do anything she wants with nothing holding her back. I can’t believe this is actually happening; she’s here and we can be together again.”

Matakara smiles to himself as he idly flips through his workbook, not really seeing the words and having absolutely no idea what page he’s meant to be reading; he’s already counting down to when the clock strikes half past noon, despite the morning having barely started.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Arajin Tomoshibi’s sister? I see.” 

Shindo leans back against the couch; the information he had a few of his underlings gather on you isn’t much, but it’s enough to satisfy his curiosity. The file, if it can be called that, is one sheet of basic information with a couple of photographs attached. One is of you from that morning, walking with Arajin on your way to Ishizu. The second photo is one of you taken of you watering some potted plants and a planter of herbs outside your family’s restaurant; you look a bit tired, frowning slightly as though disappointed with the progress of the herbs growing on the windowsill. You hold the small watering can, tipped downward, hand on one hip and lips pursed in a way that makes Shindo recall the face you had made when you left him standing in the aisle of the bookstore. A scarf is tied around your head and the apron draped over your body is stained. Not the most flattering angle or ensemble for a surprise photograph. 

And yet, Shindo continues to stare down at the picture, held between his slender fingers; he turns it over and around, eyes scanning every detail. It’s as if he’s searching for something, but it’s not like there’s anything to gain from gazing upon your discontented pout.

“How dull a life she must lead: in and out of doctor’s offices and hospital rooms and when she’s well enough to be released, all she can do is pitter patter the hours away with books and plants. It explains her misconduct; names or not, she wouldn’t have the first clue of who I was, too ignorant to realize how easy it would have been to discipline her for being so mouthy.”

Shindo considers the photograph with a chuckle; his pinky traces your lips with a feather light touch. Such an unattractive expression; he’ll make sure to obtain a photograph with you looking more presentable. 

“Poor little bunny, trapped in a burrow for so long. I know how to bring a little excitement into your life.”

Usahara Tobikichi in love with f!Reader headcanons (sfw and smutty)

(look at this official art by gaku kaze, why is he so cute/hot?!)

SFW:

Usahara is (to borrow a trope title) a Casanova Wannabe. He likes getting attention from women and wishes he could pull off the playboy persona; the idea of being irresistible to women is a nice daydream, especially considering he seems to be consistently overlooked in comparison to guys like Kumatani and Uramichi

Despite having dated before, relationships never quite seem to work out, whether it be due to Usahara's partners not wanting to stick around after realizing how tactless and irresponsible he is or Usahara stops putting in the effort to keep the relationship afloat. He’s not intentionally mean or careless, but truly good intentions can only make up so much for his flaws.

With all that in mind, Usahara wants a girlfriend; he would take being devoted to one woman over being admired by dozens any day of the week, even if he’s a touch embarrassed to admit it.

In comes you: Usahara thinks you’re cute and immediately tries to get your attention. He doesn’t have high hopes, but hey, it couldn’t hurt to put himself out there. It doesn't take long before Usahara starts going out of his way to talk to you, firing off jokes and one liners at any given time, basically making a fool of himself for a hint of a smile from you. In a short amount of time this casual attraction develops into not so casual, knee buckling, sweaty palms crush. Usahara's heart will shatter into a million pieces if you decide to reject him.

You’re so cute, patient and sweet, being with you just feels right. Every time Usahara sees you that throbbing ache in his chest only gets worse. You’re probably too good for him, he knows it, everyone around Usahara won't stop reminding him when he looks at you with goo goo eyes and insists today's the day: he's going to take that leap and make a move on you. Usahara feels like he hit the literal jackpot when you agreed to go out with him. 

When the two of you begin officially dating, it’s like a light switch clicks in Usahara’s head. Maybe because he’s older and (at least somewhat) wiser, but he’s making genuine efforts this time around to not repeat past mistakes.

When you bring up the issue of his spending habits or taking a joke too far, Usahara will listen and work with you to fix the issue. It’s important to him you know he’s taking this seriously. Usahara wants to have extra money to spoil his girl and the idea of saying something to hurt your feelings gnaws at him. He's determined to be the best boyfriend you've ever had or will have.

He tries so hard for you; Usahara honestly didn’t expect to get so attached. It makes him a bit more reflective, but also paranoid of messing up; he's always been his own worst enemy. For how easy going and chill Usahara comes off as, he's way more insecure than you might guess.

Expect clinging and being spammed with texts at any given moment, maybe a phone call or a silly picture. Now that he has an adorable girlfriend, Usahara jumps at any opportunity to do couple things, go on all the cute dates, call you pet names, buy matching charms for your keys/phones, feed each other, etc. But because he’s so eager and already fairly attached, it can be a bit...much:

“Babyyyy, I had a rough day! 😭 I need cuddles. I’m free after work, can you come over tonight? 😘"

"How's your day going? I wish I could skip work and see you..."

"I miss you xoxo ❤️” 

"Babe, did you get my message? Are you busy?”

“Is everything okay?”

“Hey...are you mad at me?😥"

“Sorry, didn’t mean to spam you.”

“So, should I get food omw home? What are you in the mood for?” "

Besides me lol"

"....babe? Did I do something wrong?”

“I’m sorry, did I forget our 3 week anniversary? Month anniversary?”

"I'll make it up to you, I promise!"

“Baby???”  

And you will get all of these messages over the course of an hour or so. Yes, Usahara does calm down eventually; granted, he'll still spam you with texts now and then even after he feels more secure in the relationship, but usually only when he's out drinking and he wishes he was with you instead.

Usahara keeps things from exes partially if they’re useful and there is a sentimental aspect to it for him; that being said, if it makes you uncomfortable, Usahara doesn’t hesitate to get rid of anything you don't want him to hold on to. You’re with him now, and besides, Usahara needs room for all the things of yours he plans to keep at his place from now on.

And now, for the spicy stuff (and a little smut):

Eager to please is an understatement. 

Seriously though, Usahara struggles to keep his hands to himself, particularly when it’s just you and him. He doesn’t want to come on too strong or too desperate, but he wants you.

He’ll probably try to just go with whatever you’re ready for but if it was up to Usahara, he would never have to use his hand again. Not when he has your soft, warm body to touch and explore.

You’ll definitely need to tell Usahara exactly what you want, because again, he has a hard time going on instinct or reading subtle cues. And honestly, he kind of likes being bossed around in bed.

When you ask him to pleasure you and he gets it right, Usahara gets off on your praise and satisfaction. He’s practically glowing when he first makes you cum and the first time he gets to feel it raw and dripping down his dick makes him almost climax inside you right then and there.

Usahara’s preferred positions are either you riding him while he sits up right and he loses his mind a little when you suck him off. He just can’t get over what you’re doing to him; extra points if you let him cum in your mouth or even just on your face or tits. It’s dirty and you look so beautiful, Usahara can hardly believe you’re real. 

Praise kink aside, Usahara also gets off on soft domination, edging (maybe because he’s so impatient), dirty talk, and costumes, Specifically seeing you with thigh highs and a mini skirt or a too big shirt, with or without panties. 

Talk about fucking like rabbits. Usahara has a high sex drive and would fuck you every day if he could, but he understands you might not always been in the mood. He’s actually happy to just kiss or cuddle, anything to feel you and be close. His favorite thing to do is strip down to nothing and lay over you, head on your chest and hugging you tight while he listens to your heart beat. He’ll still be horny but it can wait. 

“I can’t help it.” Usahara whines, only half teasing as he starts rubbing himself against you, silently begging you to touch him. You have no idea how fast you turn him into a needy mess just by stroking his hair or kissing his neck; he thrives on your attention, he wants to lose himself in you. 

When he’s especially pent up, Usahara acts pussy drunk, doubly so if he’s been putting off the orgasm. Once you finally let him fuck you, your arms around his neck and thighs squeezing his hips, Usahara could cry from how good you feel. He can't believe he gets to be with you like this, that you want him as badly as he needs you.

“So good so good so fucking good, I wanna fuck you all night, gonna cum so hard in your pussy baby. Can I go harder? Pleeeease?”

Drool is trailing down the corner of Usahara’s babbling mouth; he practically melts into your body, head resting in the crook of your neck and arms wrapped tight around you while he fucks you, barely pulling out of your gushing pussy with each sloppy thrust.

“I wanna cum, can I cum inside again? Sorry, I need it, need to fuck you. I can’t stop, fuck, fuck, oh fuck!” Usahara gasps, eyes blown wide as you squeeze around him, not even really meaning to; he hugs you tighter, nuzzling your neck, pressing soft kisses to the love bites he made earlier. It's all you can do to not go utterly limp and just allow him to use you like a living doll. Usahara pants, whines and whimpers like puppy as he mindlessly fucks into you, begging for you to hold him closer and spread your thighs wider. 

“So pretty, so good to me...I love it, love you," Usahara sobs and clings closer, cock is buried as deep as he can go while he rocks his hips. "Baby, I'm really gonna cum, gonna cum, please, wanna cum, I love you so much, baby, can I cum inside? Please? Just one more time, please, please, please!?”

Options, Pt.3

Arajin/f!Reader/Marito

Summary: Arajin and Marito grow closer to you over time and start becoming more open about their intentions, but a wrench is thrown into the works when you receive a confession on Valentine's day. wc: 3.7k A/N: warnings for violence, possessive behavior, general toxic behavior, jealousy, crying, angst, Marito being a borderline yandere (honestly it's not hard to see canon him as a potential one). Also the OC is meant to be a reference to Harima Kenji from School Rumble (another lovable delinquent character lol) Enjoy!

As time went on, you, Arajin, and Marito began a comfortable routine; at first you would typically spend time with Arajin, whether at the Chu Chu restaurant, milling around the local shopping center, or studying at the library. Sometimes Marito would show up, usually unannounced, or Arajin would suggest oh so casually if you wouldn’t mind his boyfriend joining the two of you. You couldn’t say the exact time where Marito’s presence was a given; it got to the point where you were so used to him being around, it was more strange for him to not show up. Marito would surprise you sometimes, creeping up on you, saying “boo” or growling under his breath; it escalated to finding yourself regularly trapped in a loose embrace, an arm over your shoulders caging you to his side, or just a hand ruffling your hair just a little too roughly. He was as clingy with you as he was with Arajin now and to his delight, you never shrunk away or gave him any indication you weren’t just as pleased to be in his company as Arajin’s (unless Mahoro was present and glaring daggers; you didn’t want to rattle the tiger’s cage).

Arajin, of course, was becoming bolder and bolder, albeit in his own way. He would hover and fuss whenever he wasn’t latched to Marito; he’d shower you in compliments for the most (at least in your opinion) insignificant things and basically insisted on being at your disposal for any and every inconvenience. Arajin refused to let you carry anything but your own purse, if that, would strip off his top layer the moment you shivered at a slight chill, even offering to blow on your drink if it was too hot to taste without burning the tip of your tongue. At one point while the two of you were walking around, there was a sudden and heavy downpour; Marito and you were fine waiting it out, but Arajin insisted on running over to the nearest convenience store to buy an extra large umbrella for the three of you to walk under, along with a pack of tissues and a hot tea in case you somehow caught cold from being a touch damp. 

Marito never showed any sign of jealousy or irritation at his boyfriend’s doting on you; you weren’t sure what to make of it. From what you heard, Marito, to put it lightly, was not a particularly giving or forgiving person. Yet, he seemed not only apathetic to Arajin’s behavior but amused. 

No, more than that. There was a pattern that you couldn’t unsee when you finally got around to noticing how Marito would behave every time Arajin took more liberties with his indulgence of you: ruffling his hair, whispering things into his ear until he turned into a blushing mess, pulling him in close to blow raspberries on his cheeks, trapping him in bone crushing bear hugs, laughing and smirking all the while. It was as if Marito was praising Arajin, granted usually in a sort of teasing, roughhousing sort of way, for becoming more confident in expressing himself around you.

What’s more, when Marito did this, he would stare at you. Sometimes a brief glance and a wink; other times he would make direct eye contact and not break it until Arajin said something to regain his full attention. Those looks, deliberate and intense, left you with a dry mouth and a rapidly beating heart, not because you were intimidated and you didn’t believe it was Marito’s intention to do so in the first place. You swear, those fervent, almost hypnotizing looks were calling for you to…do something. That’s where you were officially stumped. 

At least, until today. 

“This is for you.”

You take the letter, a little dumbstruck; it was a plain white envelope, sealed with a red, heart shaped sticker. 

“Read it first before you give me your answer. I’ll be at the clubhouse after school, near the spot where that old pond froze over. Will you come?”

You’re gripping the letter lightly in your hands; you’ve only spoken to Harima Kenji a handful of times. He’s one of many Siguma recruits you’ve made small talk with in times you dropped by to visit Marito and Arajin or met them on the way to go somewhere else. Harima is a newbie and you were shocked to learn he was a second year student. With his large build, goatee, and severe looks, you had honestly assumed he had been held back a year or two. The impression you got from the brief interactions you’ve had is that Harima was a lot more sincere and earnest than his rough way of speaking and near constant scowl implied. To think, he would do something so…romantic and on Valentine’s day no less. Had he been waiting to give this letter to you for the occasion? Just the thought made your heart swell a bit, touched at the sentiment. 

“I know this is sudden, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I want you to be my Valentine and...be mine. Even if you can’t accept my feelings, I hope you’ll take some time to consider me.”

“...okay.” You smile shyly. “I’ll come with my answer after school.”

“Thank you!” Harima clenched his fists at his side and bowed his head slightly; he hasn’t smiled once this whole encounter, but his eyes practically shine when you smile and his cheeks flush so bright you can see it under his whiskers. “I’ll be waiting.”

You’re left alone, standing at your shoe cubby, still feeling a bit shocked; perhaps that was why you didn’t notice Arajin. He had dived right back around the corner, sweaty palms clutching a small box of chocolates and a bushel of daisies, as he unwittingly eavesdropped on the exchange.  

“Who confesses with letters these days?”

Marito cocked his head to the side slightly, examining the way Harima struggled to get up; his uniform was half soaked by slush and mud. Arajin was off to the side near the edge of the pond, eyes rimmed red and looking conflicted; he didn’t think Marito would go this far. When he ran off to tell Marito what he had seen, panicked and heart heavy, he thought he would just scare the rookie a bit, get him to back off. Everyone within Siguma was aware who you were and that you were off limits. Besides, Arajin was almost positive you were going to reject Harima anyway; it wouldn’t hurt for Marito to lay down the law and nip the problem in the bud, right?

“Aren’t you just an old-fashioned romantic? A confession by hand written letter, asking her to meet you after school.” Marito waited until he was half standing to send another swift kick to Harima’s wobbling legs. “Kenji-kun, I knew you were kinda stupid, but not this stupid. And as if your blatant disrespect wasn't bad enough, you upset my Ara-teen; another strike against ya.”

“Sh-she accepted my letter.” Harima grunts, doubled over, but face raised to glower up at Marito through swollen eyes. “She coulda thrown it out…turned me down right then if she really wanted to, crazy bastard. You have no right-!”

“Now how are you still able to talk?”

Another kick, this time to the ribs; Harima heaves, spitting up what Marito assumes is whatever he had for lunch earlier. The ground is cold and wet from the half melted snow; it’s slippery and Harima can’t seem to get his footing; frankly, he’s strong, but far outclassed and up against one very pissed off juvenile delinquent. Marito allows some space, watching unimpressed as Harima tries to stand; he had put up a decent enough fight initially, but he’s all power and no stamina from what Marito can see. Finally, Harima collapses on his hands and knees with a curse.

“Eat shit.”

“Hm? Did you say something?” Marito leans down slightly, hand cupped around his ear. “Gotta speak up.”

“Dammit, I give, you crazy fuck.” Harima manages to growl. “She’s coming to see me either way.”

Marito clicks his tongue, shaking his head in faux disapproval. “I guess you weren’t as serious about her as you claimed to be. All it took was a little roughing up and a couple shattered ribs. Where’s the passion?”

Arajin steps forward, eyes wide and unable to keep the tremor from his voice. “Marito, maybe that’s enough? You didn’t need to-”

“Arajin, if you can’t stomach it, you can wait for me inside.” Marito smiles blithely over his shoulder. “Aw, don’t worry, I ain’t going to kill him. I won’t even kick him out of Siguma, not yet anyway. I still have a use for him.”

“But, he's hurt really bad. This is way too much.”

“Isn't this what you wanted?”

“I never told you to beat anyone up!” 

“C'mon, you had to know what would happen once you blew the whistle.” Marito grins without a trace of mirth. “Just a while ago you were bawlin’ your eyes out to me about losing your chance with her, after all these years, after finally getting some nerve to start making moves. Ara-teen, we're so close to making her ours. We need to put this loser in his place and make an example of him.”

Harima groans; he’s trying to get up. Marito’s smile falls; he moves forward to grab Harima by the hair and slams his face straight down into the cold mud. Arajin’s stomach churns at an audible, sickening crunch and Harima’s sharp scream of pain.

“Whoops, looks like you broke your nose.” Marito’s nails dig into Harima’s scalp, holding him down, easily ignoring the hands grabbing and scratching at his wrist. “Go on lover boy, make your confession! Fuck, you're pathetic.” 

Marito yanks Harima’s head up so the other boy can get one desperate gulp of air, before grabbing his face with both his hands. Blood gushes from Harima’s nostrils to mix with the mud and snot as his face makes contact with Marito’s knee. As he recoils, Harima’s mouth opens and Marito cackles, seeing a gap in his teeth; it’s probably buried in the mud now.

“Marito!” Arajin rushes over, finally gaining feeling in his stiff legs; he kneels down and tries to pull back Marito’s arm, but he hardly budges. He’s honestly terrified of Marito right now, but he feels more guilty.

Marito was right; Arajin knew that something like this at the very least could happen. He hoped. He wanted Marito to throw his weight around and put a stop to Harima’s pursuit of you because in his heart, Arajin didn’t know if you would accept his feelings. Arajin didn’t know for sure and he wasn’t willing to cross that line but he didn’t want you to leave him behind either, be with someone else. 

You looked so flattered, glowing from Harima’s request. It scared him. It made him want to throw up and so he ran away, candy and crushed flowers in hand, because Arajin couldn’t bring himself to approach you the same way. He was more willing to let someone get the shit kicked out of them to have a better shot at you. Arajin has never felt more sick with himself. 

“Dammit you have to stop!” Arajin pleads, grabbing at Marito, using what strength he had to try and pry him away. “Enough is enough!”

“This isn’t close to enough. I can’t believe you thought…what did you think? I’d just hand her over? To you?” Marito stares at his subordinate's bloodied and bruised face with utter disgust. “It’s an insult is what it is: this weak bitch…fuck, you really thought you would get away with it, didn’t ya? That you could make a move on our girl?!”

Arajin is shoved away unceremoniously, sent back skidding in the snow; Marito isn’t smiling anymore. His breathing is as labored as Harima’s as he begins stomping anywhere he can reach. Harima is all but unconscious as his body is kicked over and over, in quick, brutal succession. 

Marito scraps the sole of his boot against Harima’s face like he’s trying to get the mud off and it earns him a pained moan and now there’s blood mixed with the mud. Marito can hardly stand to look down on him: Harima is nobody, an NPC, a nameless red shirt. He couldn't take a few well placed punches at half of Marito’s strength. The very suggestion that you had accepted Harima’s corny bullshit love letter with a smile almost made Marito angry with you. How could you even entertain it? Why should anyone else even matter to you, let alone someone so beneath him?

“Get up." Marito demands, digging his heel into Harima’s neck. “You limp dicked, shit-for-brains loser, get the fuck up! If you even think about looking at her again, and I’ll-”

“Marito!”

Marito turns to send a nasty glare Arajin’s way, but it’s not him who’s running at breakneck speed to Harima’s side. You slip in the mud a little short of where Harima’s head is resting on the cold ground, but you crawl the rest of the way. A look of abject horror changes your features in a way Marito has never seen.

“Harima? Harima, are you okay?” You frantically try to push away Marito’s leg. “Stop it, what are you doing to him?!”

“You need it spelled out?” Marito taps Harima’s temple with the tip of his boot before moving back a step; he’s smiling now, grinning down at you, blood and mud splattered over his clothes. “Don’t worry, kitten. He won’t ever bother you again. No need to give him an ‘answer’; I made sure Kenji-kun got the message loud and clear.”

You silently reach into your skirt pocket and take out a handkerchief.

"Gross." Marito makes a gagging noise as you begin gently wiping Harima’s swollen face. He’s able to open one eye, watching as you clean off as much as you can with the scrap of cloth.

“Harima? Don’t fall asleep; do you think you have a concussion?” 

“You came.” Harima turns his head slightly as a tear runs down his cheek; he can barely speak with his split, swollen lip. “I’m sorry. Just go: I don’t want you to see me this way.”

“Harima,”

“Ugh, knock it off, crybaby; I barely hit you.” Marito rolls his eyes in disdain as you help Harima rise to a sitting position. “Really milking it for those sympathy points, huh?”

Harima rests his head on your shoulder, breaths shallow but steady. You won’t even look at Marito.

“Is this the “Siguma pride’ you told me about? Threatening your members? And for what?” You ask quietly. “I’m not a prize to be won.”

“He’s a loser.”

“This isn’t a game.” You snap, your cold stare wilting when Arajin catches your eyes. “Is this what you do now? You don’t fight anymore, but you’re okay letting someone else do it for you. You can’t work up the nerve to be honest with me about your feelings but I guess you can stomach this just fine?”

“No.” Arajin denies; his guts feel like they’re being twisted. “I didn’t want this.”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. I can’t even look at you right now.” You tell him. “I can’t believe-I thought we were friends, I thought-”

“You belong to us.” Marito states calmly. “Everyone else knows but this idiot, apparently.”

“I’m not a thing you can put a claim on!”

“I did,” Marito replies. “And I am. I won’t let anyone else have you.”

You shake your head, as if in disbelief; Marito bends down, reaching for your arm to haul you up. Before Marito can lay a finger on you, Harima slaps his hand away. 

“Leave her alone.” Harima wheezes; he’s rolled over slightly in front of you, as if to shield you from the offending touch. “I’m sorry. This happened because I wasn’t strong enough.”

“Nah it's ‘cause you’re a fuckin’ loser.” Marito jeers, sticking his tongue out at Harima’s scowl. “Now, kitten, don’t make me be rough with you; Ara-teen and I just wanna have a chat to clear up things.”

“We do, really.” Arajin puts a hand over Marito’s. “Please, we’re sorry.”

“Huh? I ain’t fucking sorry.”

“Seriously?!” Arajin looks at him, silently begging Marito to stop being combative; he looks at you so guiltily, so regretfully, you almost feel swayed by his words. “We are your friends. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way, but it's the truth.” he professes. "We like you."

“So, what do you say, kitten?” Marito adds with an uncontrollable grin.  “You’re gonna be ours, right?”

“Don’t speak to her that way, scum!” Harima sits up, puts a hand on your shoulder, trying to stand up once more. “She doesn’t want to go anywhere with you and your toadie boyfriend.”

Any trace of humor disappears from Marito’s smile. “You just don’t know when to shut up; all this for a stupid shitty letter-”

“You’re wrong.” You put a hand comfortingly on Harima’s shoulder, ushering him to calm down. “That letter was so sweet and thoughtful. I think it takes a lot of courage to be so honest about how you feel.” 

“Okay, enough is enough.” Marito sighs heavily and moves to reach for you again. “Come on, get up. We should be discussing this privately-”

This time it’s not Harima’s large hand that smacks Marito’s away; you’re finally looking at him. Tears well up in your eyes. Marito recoils as if your slap hurt; he’s looking at you, almost dumbstruck. He’s never seen you so much as raise your hand to swat a bug.

“No.” You can’t stop the tears from coming; your hand is still raised, poised as if to slap Marito again should he try to come near you. “I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”

Arajin tries to go to you, but stops short; he stands, helpless, as you cry into your hands. You’re crying and it’s partially his fault, yet Arajin can’t even bring himself to go to you. 

“Hey.” Marito’s hand drops to his side; his crooked smile wanes, gaze searching your face, as if he can’t process what he's seeing. “Hey, why are you looking at me like that? I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Arajin doesn’t know when you stopped crying; an hour later he’s with Marito back at the Siguma clubhouse. You left, half supporting Harima, as he limped towards the nurses office, insisting he could patch himself up and a hospital wasn’t necessary. 

Marito hasn’t spoken a word; when you all but ran off, he trudged the opposite direction, looking forward, motions stiff, almost robotic. When they returned to the clubhouse, the building feeling strangely empty and cold despite having a heating system running, Marito pulled Arajin to the hammock. Arajin didn’t argue or make any smart remarks; he let himself be tugged along. Currently he’s slotted between Marito’s legs, half lying on his chest. Marito is staring up at the ceiling, barely blinking; he looks half asleep, half awake. Arajin can’t tell if he’s angry or not but he doesn’t feel like asking. He feels like shit. 

“I screwed it all up, huh?”

Marito has one arm underneath his shoulders; his fingers clutch onto Arajin’s arm. After a beat of silence, Marito has him locked into a tight embrace; Arajin’s face is tucked away into the crook of his neck. From this position, he can’t see what kind of expression Marito is making.

“It was going so well, but then that asshole came outta nowhere, I thought we were gonna lose her, it felt like we were suddenly running out of time. I didn’t even think she’d actually say yes to him. Shit, I don’t know, I freaked, I was-”

Arajin doesn’t need Marito to finish; he knows exactly what he wants to say because it’s the same reason he himself had run away. Again. 

“It’s not your fault.”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

“I mean, it’s my fault too.” Arajin closes his eyes tight. “I should have told her a long time ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Do you have to ask? I’m a selfish coward.”

“Yeah, but I kinda like that about you.” Marito lets out a half chuckle. “Did you think you were too weak for her?”

“Sort of. Can we not get into that now?” 

“When then?”

“When?”

“We’re going to get her back, aren’t we?” Marito sounds annoyed. “We give her a little time to calm down and try to talk to her.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“You’re gonna have to see her again; she works for your mom.”

“I guess she’ll be avoiding me from now on.”

“What about me?” 

“What do you mean?”

“It’ll be easier to avoid me. Ya know, she’s probably with him now. If I go after him, she’s just gonna hate me more, but-I’ve never felt this before.”

“Pissed?”

“I want her here and she’s not.” Marito swallows hard; there’s no levity in his tone. “She didn’t even ask if I was okay.”

“Are you okay?” 

Arajin realizes this might have been the first time he’s asked Marito that question; not to mention, this might actually be the first time Marito hasn’t gotten something he wanted, something he couldn’t get with threats and intimidation.

“I got hurt too, you saw. He got me on the face even.” 

Arajin doesn’t point out to Marito that the injury he’s referring to is the most minor of bruises on his jaw.

“She didn’t even care. She didn’t even notice.” 

“I could…” Arajin sighs. “Kiss it better.”

Marito moves so he can stare him down with the most lost puppy dog eyes Arajin has ever seen on maybe the most terrifying person he’s ever met. Arajin leans over, pressing a soft, but lingering kiss to the small welt. Marito whines, arms wrapping around him tighter.

“Ara-teen, you gotta talk to her. Tell her I didn’t mean any of it, I just got carried away.”

“Weren’t you the one telling me to be more forward?” A slight smile comes to Arajin’s face for the first time in hours. “Tell her yourself.”

“She’s just gonna run away.” Marito slumps with a pout. “Tell her I’m…”

“Sorry?”

“Yeah, that.”

“Okay, that’s really something you’re going to have to tell her yourself, even I know that.”

“But she won’t talk to me! You saw how she looked at me…” Marito bites his wobbling lower lip, teeth almost scraping against his snake bite spikes. “I scared our kitten away. I messed everything up.”

“We both messed up.” Arajin lets Marito bury his face into his shoulder. “I guess we deserve each other…”

Tunnel Vision

Summary: Iketeru is grateful to have you on staff to help him stay grounded, but what is he supposed to do when you're the one making his head spin? 3.7k words

A/N: Art is official from Gaku Kuze; Iketeru Daga/F!Reader who works on the set of Together with Maman as...let's say emotional support human? I didn't think that far ahead, the point is it's fluffy and tooth rotting sweetness. Enjoy!

Off camera, Iketeru is probably the closest to his oniisan persona: pleasant and approaching life with a more positive outlook than his co stars. Even though Iketeru spends a good chunk of time in his own little bubble, he’s not the type to hold grudges or be resentful; he’s too easy going and short sighted for drama.

So where’s the issue? Well, as much as you had an initial impression of Iketeru walking through life unaware and unhindered by the cynicism that grows from adulthood, he still holds himself to a rigid standard, like many people his age. You don’t know if it’s his strict upbringing or a childlike desire to please others when Iketeru is called on to perform a task, but if he falls short, he will not let it go.

Spiraling is the best way you can define it: if Iketeru is unable to accomplish something, he will press on, forcing himself to try over and over. The strain and stress makes him mess up or worse, Iketeru shuts down altogether, immobilized and on the brink of a panic attack.

“Let’s break.” You ignore Derekida’s protests at the nerve of you interrupting the shoot (he’s the director here) but you usher Iketeru backstage into a fold out chair with promises to make it quick.

“Breathe.” 

“But I have to-” 

“Not right now. Right now, you just need to breathe, okay?”

Iketeru calms down but he’s still staring at his hands; he looks like a puppy that’s been scolded for peeing on the carpet. “It’s all wrong.”

“You did one thing wrong.” You hand him a water bottle and step back so he doesn’t feel crowded. “What do we do when we have a problem we don’t know how to fix?” 

“....huh?” 

“I’ll help you: we take a step…?” 

“Into the river?” 

“What? No, what the hell-? Look, we take a step back, calm down, and ask for help. We learned that yesterday, remember?” 

“No.” 

“Here’s your reminder; now have some water, a sip won’t hurt.”

Iketeru drinks slowly; there’s color in his face again, but he still looks and feels a bit uneasy. You glance over your shoulder: a few of the kids are looking concerned, but Utano and Uramichi are leading them in the arts and crafts segment. You suppose Iketeru’s experience in the arts is more centered with performing, but once he’s shown how to do something, he catches on fast. And yet, here you are, another mini crisis to tend to.

The embarrassment he feels at having you see him in such a state is lessened by the need to be pulled out of his own head; it is strange though. When someone like Kumatani or one of the other staff are called upon to similarly aid him, Iketeru isn’t as concerned of how he must come off; he’s mainly worried to be a bother. There’s not a lingering sense of shame that makes Iketeru tongue tied and hyper aware of everything he does, like he’s auditioning on a stage and you’re in charge of critiquing his performance. 

“Sorry.” Iketeru wipes a drop of water from the corner of his mouth. “I’m slowing down the schedule…I’m letting everyone down.”

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up so much. Think about it this way, how would you react if one of those little munchkins was struggling? Would you tell them what a disappointment they were?”

“No.” Iketeru concedes. “I’d probably…I guess try to help them figure it out.” 

“Why?” 

“What? I wouldn’t want to make them feel bad, of course.” 

“There you go. Next time you’re having a little trouble, be kinder to yourself. Don’t worry about the others, they know you’re doing your best. You’re one of the most talented people I’ve met period: you’re not any less impressive because you’re having some trouble with your, uh, role.”

Iketeru nods and offers a small smile; of course you wouldn’t look at him in a poor light because of this. He knows you’re right but it’s not as easy to be so level headed when he’s in the moment. Yet you seem to have an endless wealth of patience; your words always manage to ground him back to reality. When you’re next to him, speaking to him so warmly and empathetic, Iketeru hangs on your every word.  Even when Iketeru’s mind drifts, he ends up thinking about you in an unrelated way to the topic of conversation: how pleasant your voice is, how close you are, your eyes-

“Iketeru-oniisan? Are you ready?” 

“Huh?” 

“Heh, looks like you’re feeling better, space cadet.” You smile wider. “I asked, are you ready to go out there and try again?” 

“Um, yes! I can do it.” 

“Alrighty, I’ll recycle this for you.” You hold up the now empty water bottle with a sly grin. “I’m just gonna take this and slide it through the hole.”

You thought Iketeru would get a chuckle out of that, but he’s not smiling at all anymore; was that one not blatant enough? Maybe the delivery was off. Derekida is already shouting for you to hurry up and not delay the schedule any further.  

“Oh sure, but when he’s brainstorming, he can hold everyone up for an hour or two; duty calls.” You shake your head and give Iketeru a quick thumbs up. “You got this!”

Iketeru nods and waves, stiff and mechanically; he wants more water now. His cheeks are hot, despite how long he’s been sitting away from the harsh stage lights. Don’t get him wrong, that joke was hilarious, but lately your inappropriate quips make Iketeru think about things he knows he shouldn’t be thinking. 

Kumatani leads him back to the children, using his Kumao-kun voice to say cheery words of encouragement, though Iketeru’s only half listening. Not good: it’s time to get back into the role. Iketeru smiles as the children welcome him back and show him their progress on their projects. Iketeru really does feel much better but still off somehow; the ball of nerves squirming in his stomach has been replaced by a knot in his chest. Is he sick? Maybe he needs to take a cough drop or have some hot tea after work. Iketeru hopes he isn’t coming down with something: he wouldn’t want to make you worry.

“Worry? I mean, I guess she would be? I hope so…wait, no. But I don’t want her to worry.” Iketeru glances to where you’re chatting backstage with Ikuko; a yawn escapes you, but you don’t look too exhausted and you give a sweet smile in response to whatever Ikuko is speaking of. 

“Iketeru-oniisan?” 

“Huh? Oh sorry, that looks very pretty; good job!” Iketeru smiles kindly as the young girl holds out her tissue paper bouquet of tulips; she mixed the papers somehow so they look multicolored. “I can practically smell them.” 

“I’m going to give them to my mommy to say thank you for being my mommy.” 

“What a thoughtful gift, I’m sure she’ll love them!” 

It doesn’t take long for Utano to show Iketeru how to bunch the papers together to make a nice pattern and to shape the chenille stems to secure the “petals” in place. You’re leaving for the day and see Iketeru finishing up a bouquet of what looks like red poppies; he’s laser focused on the project, hunched slightly over the table in his green room. His door is open and he looks ready to leave, save for the clutter overtaking some of the table’s surface. 

“I knew you could do it.” You knock lightly on the door as a courtesy before strolling over, grinning as you watch him carefully tie the flowers together with a ribbon. “Wow, that’s really good. Like, you could sell these.”

“Huh?” Iketeru looks up at you. “Sorry I wasn’t listening, I’m making flowers.”

“Anyway, how are you feeling? You should head home, you’ve done enough for today.” 

“I couldn’t, I had to finish this and you were still working.” Iketeru regards his handiwork with a content smile. “There, all done.”

“Wait, are they for me?”

“Sure are.”

“They’re really nice, but are you sure you don’t want to save them as a prop or something?” 

“I can make more later if we need them; these I made just for you.”

Iketeru turns in his seat and holds up the tissue paper poppies up with an absolutely angelic smile on his face; you take the little bouquet gingerly, careful not to bend or tear anything. 

“I made these to thank you.” Iketeru stands up, taking a minute to put everything away into a container he borrowed from the arts supplies closet. “I know it’s not much, but I was able to make them because you helped me.” 

“I didn’t really do anything.”

“Sure you did.” Iketeru’s smile grows sheepish. “I know it’s part of the job, but I hope you’ll accept these as a token of my appreciation. I wouldn’t have made it through the last few hours if you hadn’t stepped in.”

“Aw, I just got there first.” You grin bashfully, beyond flattered at this gesture. “Thank you, Iketeru: I’ve never gotten flowers as a gift before and these ones will last me a long time!”

Iketeru smiles vaguely as you continue to speak, still admiring the poppies; he’s a tiny bit surprised to hear no one’s ever given you flowers before, fake or otherwise. You’re one of the best people he knows; surely someone like you gets bushels of flowers for all the holidays and special occasions, maybe even for no real reason at all. Iketeru can see you clear as day in his head receiving dozens of daisies, stems of cherry blossoms, strings of sweet peas and sprigs of lavender adorning your hair and clothes until you’re covered in bright colors and fragrant florets, a mountain of tokens from imagined people moved by how grateful they are to have you in their lives. At the center of that mountain of flowers is you, putting all of those beautiful blooms to shame; you smile at him and take the offerings of artificial poppies and homemade onigiri, cradling them protectively to your heart. Iketeru stares at you with helpless admiration, unsure what to do other than allow himself to melt into a puddle as you lean in to press the softest of kisses to his cheek-

“Iketeru?”

“I wasn’t listening!”

“You didn’t even try to make up something.”

Iketeru coughs. “Sorry.”

“Ah well, I figured.” You tuck the tissue paper poppies into your front pocket. “The inside of your head must be an interesting place.”

“Sorry.” Iketeru repeats. “I wasn’t trying to ignore you. You must think I’m rude.”

“Come on, I know you’re not like that.” You assure him. “And hey, I like to ramble anyway, so I guess it all works out. No harm, no foul.”

“If you say so.” Iketeru glances at the ground. “Actually, what I was thinking…can I bring you flowers again?” 

“You don’t have to do that!” You sputter, holding the artificial blooms to your chest. “You didn’t even have to give me these.”

“I wanted to.” Iketeru assures you. “I wasn’t planning to give them to you initially, but I kept picturing your face when I was practicing. It just seemed right for you to have them.”

“Okay then.” You chuckle. “Careful, you’re gonna make me think you’re sweet on me at this rate.”

“What’s that mean? I’m not familiar with that phrase.”

“It’s a way to say you like someone in a romantic sense.”

“I see, thank you for explaining.”

“No problem.”

“I really like how that sounds.”

Iketeru notices you’ve gotten quiet; the space between him and you is very small, the two of you are nearly bumping shoulders as you walk side by side out of the building. Iketeru rarely gets the chance to be with you one on one, but when the occasion arises, you do most of the talking. 

He wasn’t too sure, but Iketeru recognizes the way he thinks of you has long since changed from innocent admiration to affection. Even so, he hadn’t been preoccupied with trying to pursue something beyond being friendly coworkers. Iketeru couldn’t have guessed how much his attachment would cement into, but it’s impossible to deny there’s a difference with how he regards you and other people he cares for.

Whenever you walk into the room, Iketeru feels a sudden rush, not even realizing he had been anticipating your arrival to the studio. You speak firmly, but are never mean or insincere. Even in the midst of Iketeru’s crisis, seeing you make a beeline towards him made the dreadful, heavy weight on his chest abate enough so he could breathe a little easier. 

Has the thought never crossed your mind, at least once? Your face betrays nothing as you make your way to the station, Iketeru moving so you walk on the side of the sidewalk that isn’t by the street or the bike lane, even when he’s lost in thought; it’s like an automatic instinct at this point. 

“Iketeru, do you live this way?” Your voice changes tone from mild to concerned. “I’m actually going to a cafe by my place.”

“A cafe?” Iketeru perks up; cafes have cozy insides with places for people to sit for a while and share good treats and conversation.

“Yeah, I’m gonna head home after treating myself to a little something, so you don’t need to escort me home.” You say lightly. “It’s not very far, maybe five minutes. I didn’t know you lived in the area.”

“I don’t live around here.”

Your expression changes to slight shock. “What? Iketeru, didn’t you realize where I was headed? Oh man, how far out are you from your place? We’ve been walking for fifteen minutes.”

“That’s right, I was going to call my sister to pick me up.” Iketeru remembers; they were supposed to run a couple errands when he was done at work. “I’ll text her that I’m going to get a taxi home, she doesn’t really need me to help with grocery shopping.”

“Why don’t you have her pick you up now? We’re not that far from the studio, send her your location.”

“Yes, I guess that would be the smart thing to do, wouldn’t it?”

Iketeru types out a message to let Mabui know where he is and apologizes for losing track of the time. It’s a good thing he’s a decent actor because otherwise Iketeru doesn’t know how he would keep the disappointment off his face. It sounds like you want him to leave. When you brought up going to a cafe, Iketeru’s first thought was that you were going to extend an invitation for him to join you, but maybe he was still daydreaming. 

“Something felt different about today.”

chest hurts as you watch him impassively type on his phone, explaining where he was and why his reply is so late.

“Is this being sweet on somebody? I’m pretty sure that’s how I feel. All I know for sure is that I would be so happy if she felt that way about me. Even if she didn’t, I still want to go with her. I want to see her more. I’m a coward. I can’t even ask her to have coffee.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes, I’m sure Mabui won’t be too upset, it’s better than if she sent me out on my own and I forgot the grocery list or something.” Iketeru can’t stop talking, saying anything to gloss over this awkward moment. He's spent enough time acting like a fool. “We’re running low on some things; I’ll probably get stuck on cooking duty for dinner tonight since I forgot all about it, haha. We usually split chores, but sometimes it’s easier to buy stuff when we both use similar things. I do like to cook though, I found this new recipe for onigiri filling, I should pack some for lunch tomorrow and-”

“Whoa, whoa.” You put a hand lightly on Iketeru’s shoulder. “You don’t sound okay.”

Iketeru tenses up; your hand shocks him through the layers of his jacket and sweater and undershirt, right to his skin. Your expression is measured, gaze steady but gentle; you’re off the clock and he’s still making you do work. 

“My apologies. I’m fine, maybe a bit tired, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry.” You withdraw your hand. “I didn’t mean to keep you, it was nice of you to walk me out.”

“No, don’t be sorry, it was my pleasure. You haven’t done anything wrong.” 

Iketeru manages a smile to mask the shame he feels at his own behavior; you shouldn't have to humor him like this. You're a nice, thoughtful coworker and friend. 

“Do you want me to stay until your sister comes?”

Iketeru has to force down the burst of giddy joy from your kind offer. “There's no need. I’ve had a lot on my mind recently, it’s nothing super bad or serious, just…it’s hard.”

“Hard, huh?” You nudge his shoulder. “Sorry, couldn’t resist that one.”

Iketeru chuckles; you really are too good to him. Despite almost ruining your plans to relax, you’re trying to cheer him up. Iketeru supposes it’s time to be an adult and focus.

“You go on, Mabui will be here soon.” Iketeru feels a buzzing in his pocket and the chimes of a bell; he takes out his phone. “Ah, she’s calling me now.”

“I’ll leave you to it then; have a goodnight Iketeru, let me know how the onigiri turns out!”

“I will.” Iketeru waves as you turn on your heel and continue walking down the sidewalk. “Goodnight…”

With a sigh, Iketeru accepts the call, hoping he sounds better than he feels.

“Hey, sorry sis, I didn’t mean to-”

“Is she still there with you?” Mabui’s calm voice asks. “Put her on the phone.”

“Why?”

“I want to say hello and thank her for looking out for my little brother.”

“Uh, well, hold on.”

Iketeru looks up; you’re only a few paces away. In a few seconds, he’s caught up to you, phone in hand. Any trace of guilt Iketeru has wavers when you turn around to look at him.

“Iketeru? What’s going on?”

“Sorry, it’s my sister.” Iketeru says, still a bit confused. “She wanted to say hello and thank you for all the help you’ve given me.”

“Oh!” You look pleasantly surprised. “How nice; here, put her on speaker.” Iketeru does just that, holding the cell phone between you and him so you can both hear Mabui clearly. 

“Hello, Mabui-san, I'm ”

“Sorry to butt in, but Iketeru wants to ask you on a date. Normally I wouldn’t pry into his personal life, but he’s been getting worse with remembering basic things and being distracted over this, so would you mind giving him an answer?” Mabui’s asks as if she was requesting you tell her the time of day. “It would make things a lot easier on me.”

“Mabui!” Iketeru would say he’s panicking but he’s far past such a mild reaction; his insides have frozen solid. He might choke on nothing but his sister continues to address you like he's not there hearing every incriminating word. 

“Iketeru probably wants to go to that cafe with you, so how about there for a first date?”

“DON’T LISTEN TO HER SHE’S LYING SHE’S A MAD WOMAN!” 

“No, I’m helping.”

Iketeru yanks the phone away. “Sis, how could you?!”

“Well, I’m going to the store now. See you later.”

Iketeru stares blankly at the black screen. The call is over. 

No, his life is over. He can’t even look at you. 

“Did you want to go to the cafe with me?”

“I’m sorry.” Iketeru croaks. “I’m really sorry, please, forget the last five minutes, I’m so sor-”

“Iketeru, breathe.” You take his hand gently. “Just breathe. Everything’s okay. I’m here and I’m not upset.”

Iketeru does as he’s told, slowly inhaling and exhaling; your hand squeezes his palm just enough so he feels steady. You’re smiling; you’re holding his hand. 

“Um, so, we shouldn’t stop and talk in the middle of the sidewalk.” You glance around. “I think you scared someone and we should probably go before they call the cops. Besides, you look like you could use a hot cup of tea, huh?”

“Do you mean it?” Iketeru leans in slightly. “You want me to go with you?”

Your gaze falters from his face to over his shoulder and your lips are pursed together slightly. Iketeru forces himself to be in the moment; the circumstances aren’t ideal, but now that he’s been put on the spot, Iketeru has to see this through. If you reject him, he won’t argue or be offended. Iketeru can wait until he’s alone somewhere before he allows his heart to crumble. 

“Please. Please like me too, please-”

“It doesn’t have to be a date.”

Iketeru isn’t able to speak; he just nods like a puppet on a string but then you continue to speak.

“I always pictured dressing up a little for a first date.” You confess, chuckling self deprecatingly. “Maybe we can plan it out together? We can do something casual of course, but I wanted to look cuter for you.”

“I,” Iketeru blinks rapidly and gathers himself so he can speak clearly. “I want that too. I want to take you anywhere you want to go…and bring you flowers.”

“I’d like that.” You stand a bit awkwardly, smiling like a fool. “I like you a lot, you know.”

“Me too.” Iketeru smiles; he doesn’t feel nervous anymore. You made him feel so safe. “I can’t wait to bring you your first real bouquet.”

“I’m looking forward to it; but still, I like these poppies. I’m going to save them; all this time, I thought it was just me. I never want to forget today, so I’m glad these flowers can’t wither away.” You sigh happily and lean into Iketeru’s shoulder slightly. “It’s a gift from you after all: they’re special, ya know?”

“Hm?” Iketeru smiles at you, as if just realizing you were on his arm. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

“I’ll tell you some other time.” 

Could you do a Mataka x reader x slight creepy Shindo. The reader is Arajins sister that just got discharged from the hospital and is cleared to go to school. (They are part of the reason their family moved back) They’ve had a childhood crush on Mataka, but they met Shindo in a book store. He thinks winning Arajin is through his sister, or threaten them.

This got my brain buzzing with ideas! Here's the first part, I'll probably break it down to 3 parts total!

A Chance Meeting and a Declaration of Protection?!

Summary: You've come back to your old hometown for a fresh start and a shot at a normal life; too bad being reunited with your childhood crush and attracting the attention of an unhinged gang leader is proving a detriment to your health in more ways than one! wc: 2.3 A/N: This takes place in an AU without honki people/magic, and tw for future chapters for Shindo being a creep/yandere coded because...I mean come on. Makatara/f!Reader/Shindo (mostly one sided though)

“Come on, just a little more…”

Standing on your tiptoes, you stretch your arm as high as you can, but the novel atop the highest shelf is still out of reach.

“Ugh, I should have asked Macchan to come and help me.”

“My, my, what do we have here?”

You feel a presence behind you before you hear their voice; at first you had assumed Arajin had returned to the bookstore to walk you home. Your mother had made him your personal escort of sorts and your brother had obeyed, walking you to and from the few places you felt well enough to explore. 

After spending so much time in a hospital bed, being outside was almost overwhelming, but you also felt restless. When you found out your favorite bookstore was still open after all these years, you could have cried. Now as you stand on somewhat wobbly legs, vision a touch fuzzy, the last thing you need is stress. Where was Arajin? And who was this strange man smirking at you like you were some amusing joke?

“You must realize the owner has a ladder for this exact reason.” 

“Huh?” 

He taps the spine of the book, easily reaching over your head. “This book, you want it, yes?”

“Oh, yes.” You nod, somewhat hesitantly; your eyes scan the aisle, but it would seem there’s no one else around.  Briefly, your eyes linger on his braided hair and light eyes; he wasn’t wearing a school uniform, just a plain, gray sweatshirt and matching pants. You were certain he was around your age though. 

“What are you staring at?”

“Oh sorry, I was thinking, um, did you want the book?” You smile apologetically, hoping your embarrassment wasn’t obvious. “I didn’t mean to be in the way.”

“No, no, I was amused by you hopping like a bunny.”

Your smile falls. “Uh, I guess I’ll just go on and ask for assistance then-”

But the stranger takes the book, holds it up over your head with a sickly sweet smile.

“I wouldn’t leave a lady struggling. Here, take it.”

“Oh, thank you.”

But before you can take the book, he holds it up even higher. You frown, confused; is he just messing with you?

“I thought you were giving me the book?”

“Isn’t it a bit rude to ask for favors from a stranger?” He asks innocently. “My name is Shindo  Akutaro; might I ask for your name?”

“Tomoshibi.” You say curtly. “May I please have that book, Shindo-san?”

“I suppose.” 

The book is unceremoniously dropped and you fail to catch it; the novel lands on the hard tiled floor and you slowly kneel to pick it up. Bending and stooping too quickly makes you light headed and your limbs feel like noodles at the least bit of sudden motion. 

“You don’t need to kneel before me for such a small favor.” 

Shindo’s smile widens until you see his canines; he looks down at you over the rim of his glasses, eyes shining with an odd sort of glee, as though you’re doing something very silly and he has to hold back laughter. You straighten up, standing up too quickly; for a second, you teeter on unsteady feet and your hand grabs the shelf for support. 

“You look very pale; are you sick? In that case, maybe you ought to be home, not hopping around.”

“I spent enough time cooped up.” You rub your forehead gently with your fingers, holding the book to your chest. “I should be able to manage shopping for a book.”

It’s more than your desire to purchase a new novel though; this book store is a place of comfort. You used to spend hours either browsing the selection or sitting in the cafe area to read the newest addition to your collection. It wasn’t like you could run around with Arajin and Matakara, as badly as you wanted to. Even now, you’ve only just begun to feel what you assume for others is something like “normal”. 

“It’s not funny.”

Shindo blinks, looking vaguely perturbed as you stare up at him defiantly; suddenly, you feel very irritated. Whether it’s due to his prior teasing or your own frustration, you’re not sure. 

“Thanks, I suppose, for getting the book.” You say quietly. “But I don’t appreciate a perfect stranger laughing at me. I never asked to be sick and I didn’t ask for your help. Excuse me, but my brother will be here soon to take me home and I need to go buy this.”

With a slight nod, you scurry away to the register on the other side of the store; as he hands you the receipt and your new book, a soft chime signals someone has entered the store. You turn around, met with the sight of a disgruntled Arajin and-

“Macchan?” You almost drop your bag and wallet. “What are you doing here?”

“I bumped into Ara-chan, so I thought I’d tag along.” Matakara waves with a sunny smile. “You’re doing okay? You haven’t had to go back to the hospital or anything?”

“I told you she was fine.” Arajin walks over to you and takes your hand. “Come on, let’s get going,”

“You’re in a hurry for someone who was late to get me.”

“Mom asked me to pick up a few things for dinner.” Arajin explains with a sigh, leading you to the sliding doors, Matakara following behind dutifully. “I figured you’d want more time anyway; you could have called.”

“You could have called if you were going to be gone later.” You grumble, slipping your hand from his grasp. “Arajin, slow down, I can’t walk that fast.”

“Do you want me to take that?” Matakara comes to your side. “Here, let me carry your bag. You look kinda pale.”

“So I’ve heard.” You sigh; of course he had to come and see you winded from the most menial task. “Thanks Macchan, but I got it.”

“Come on, we need to get home.” Arajin gives Matakara a look. “Don’t you have to get going too?”

“I can stay.” Matakara turns to you. “You don’t mind, do you? I feel like we haven’t had a chance to catch up since you moved back. It’s been too long.”

“No kidding; honestly I almost didn’t recognize you when you came to visit.” You chuckle and pat the top of Matakara’s head. “I used to be taller than you.”

“Um, yeah.”

Matakara’s face flushes a bit; it’s nice to see he hasn’t changed too much from the bashful sweetheart you remember. Now, if only you had changed as much; you both envy and admire your old friend’s strong build. 

“Don’t strain yourself too much tomorrow.” Arajin looks over his shoulder at you; he’s still looking a bit grumpy, but his eyes soften as they meet yours. “My class is basically across the hall from you and the teacher’s already know what to expect.”

“I know, I’ll be okay!”

You sound more confident than you feel; from what Arajin has said about his time attending the academy, the place sounds less like an institution of education and more a playground for delinquents. Still, you have limited options and if you have to attend a school in the area, you feel better knowing at least two people already. 

“I’m in the same class as Ara-chan; you can come to me if there’s a problem. If you want to.” Matakara says with an oddly serious expression. “I’ll be there, so you don’t have to worry about anything.”

“I’m not worried.” You lie, your smile feeling like a mask stretched over your face. “Thank you, Macchan. I don’t want to bother you though, you and Arajin have your own lives. I’m sure I’ll be totally fine. I’m so pitiful, even bullies don’t want to bug me.”

“No you’re not.” Matakara frowns. “You’re not pitiful, you're strong. I always thought so. You should too.”

You’re not sure how to respond; Arajin makes a choking sound deep from his throat and puts his hands over his ears.

“Ugh, I can not listen to this! You two walk back together, I’m going on ahead.”

“Huh?!”

“Arajin!” You gap as your brother stalks off down the sidewalk without a glance back at you. “That little shit! He’s lucky I can’t chase him down. Ugh, sorry Macchan, he’s being such a brat.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“It is not.” You huff, crossing your arms, glaring at the dot that’s now Arajin’s head. “He’s been on edge ever since we came back. I get him being angry with me, but you haven’t done anything.”

“Why would Ara-chan be angry with you?”

“Not me exactly, just,” You unfold your arms and they hang at your sides. “A big reason we came back was for my treatment. Mom’s settled in fine but Arajin…it’s not my place to speak for him, but I know being here is frustrating.”

“But it’s not your fault you’re sick.”

“Still, I think…he’d never say so, but I think he resents me. Arajin always has to deal with mom putting me first because of my poor health.”

Arajin never says it, but you can tell he gets frustrated; he never asked for a sister who constantly needed to be minded and tended to. Even now as you’ve gotten older, he’s still being pushed into the role of caretaker. You don’t want him to feel like he’s responsible for how you do when you go back to attending in person classes. 

“He brings a lot of it on himself, but I know he worries about me. Anyway, I don’t want to burden him or you.” You muster up a genuine smile. “I’m going to take it one day at a time, but I can do this. I have to at least try; I can’t let it all be for nothing.”

“You,” Matakara pauses, gazing at you with wide eyes and parted lips. “You haven’t changed at all.”

You can’t help snort. “Seriously? I know I said I wanted to toughen up and all, but-”

“You’ve gotten even cooler.”

Maybe it’s a good thing Arajin decided to leave the two of you in the dust; if he saw the way Matakara was staring at you, you might have had Arajin ready to drag you away. Before you can say anything, Matakara gently takes the bag from your loosened grip.

“For the record, I never thought looking after you was a burden. I want you to ask me for help. Matakara confesses shyly. “I’m stronger now.”

“I noticed.” Your eyes flicker to his arms; his muscles are basically straining against the thin cotton of his worn t-shirt. “Are you sure? I really don’t have trouble carrying something that small.”

“I want to!” Matakara insists; he almost whines and your heart skips a beat as he pouts down at you. “I could even carry you if you needed me to.”

“Okay, okay, I got it.” At this point the thought of your crush carrying you around in his absurdly strong arms is making you so lightheaded, you might end up needing to be hauled home anyway. On the bright side, you doubt you’re looking pallid; heat radiates from your face as Matakara walks with you. He walks in time with your steps; if you asked, he would probably take your hand to lead you home.

“I bet you’re really popular.” You nudge his shoulder. “Arajin told me you’re like, a class leader or something?”

“He did?”

“Uh huh. But don’t tell him I told you.” You put a finger to your lips. “If you do, I’ll tell him about how you cried after stealing one of my horror novels.”

“I didn’t know it was a scary book! I thought it was about a magic doll.”

“To be fair, it was brought to life with occult magic. I still can’t believe you threw out my baby doll.”

“...I thought it would come to life and haunt you.”

“That’s right, I was so mad!” You recall with a giggle. “Do dolls still freak you out?”

“No...”

“Aw,” You feel a bit guilty at the kicked puppy dog look on Matakara’s face. “I’m sorry for teasing you.”

Matakara remains silent for a few seconds and you feel anxious: was that too far? It had been a long time since the two of you were able to talk like this. Perhaps you were getting ahead of yourself, acting so familiar with him. 

“Matakara? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hassle you. I won’t actually tell Arajin about the doll thing.”

“It’s not that.” 

Matakara fidgets with the handle of the shopping bag; the sun is setting now. The soft golden light makes his eyes almost sparkle; as if getting enough oxygen wasn’t already a concern. Now you had to have your breath stolen by the warm gaze holding your attention captive. 

“It’s just…I don’t want you to think of me that way. I’m not that weak cry baby anymore.”

“I never thought you were.” You tell him earnestly. “I shouldn’t have teased you.”

“You really don’t get it.” Matakara’s voice lowers. “Even though you were so sick, you looked out for me. Now I want to do that for you. I want you to see me as someone strong you can depend on.”

“Macchan, you don’t have to look out for me: that’s not your responsibility.”

“Do I…look different to you?”

“What?”

Matakara inches a bit closer, as if he's afraid to startle you, before taking yours hands in his own. You can feel callouses on his warm palms are warm; his cheeks are pink and his stare is hard with determination. Abruptly, you're reminded of that tenderhearted boy who would rush to your side every time you so much as hinted at being fatigued.

"Do you trust me?"

"O-of course." You study his urgent gaze warily. "I always have."

“I could-no. I will protect you. If anyone tries to bother you tomorrow, you come straight to me. I’ll deal with them. I'll be there; as long as you can trust in that, I can only get stronger." Matakara squeezes your hands gently. "Believe in me and I'll protect you with that strength."

You’re taken aback; you’ve never heard Matakara speak this way to you or at all. Not that you don’t appreciate it; on the contrary, your tummy is doing somersaults. With that said, you can’t help wondering: just how much did your friend change these past few years? And what exactly is he expecting he’ll need to protect you from?