It's Better Than Regretting

It's Better Than Regretting

Kikaku Hanbee/f!Reader, post break up, mentions of sex and some light dirty talk (once again, minors dni) probably a little OOC but I tried. This fandom needs more content and this crazed witch like man has a place in my heart. The title is lyrics from "Crashed the Wedding" by Busted which was what inspired me to write this. Summary: Post breakup, Kikaku finds out you've agreed to a marriage of convenience. word count: 4.1k

Kikaku feels the wedding invite burning a hole in his pocket; he takes a long drink of beer, wondering for the tenth time if this is a mistake. The two of you broke up; he and you wanted different things out of life. So what if his parents were friendly with your old man? No one expected the two of you to end up together. In fact, Kikaku had been made all too aware of your father’s disapproval of him. When you got your first piercing, when you got drunk for the first time and missed an exam, when you started staying out all hours of the night frequenting different music venues, the blame was placed squarely on Kikaku’s shoulders for being a bad influence on his perfect princess.

It was always like that; your father would say he was only looking out for you, but Kikaku called it how it actually was; all he was doing was forcing his own expectations onto his only daughter. You had come to him many times, complaining about the feeling of suffocation, wondering how you were supposed to call the man “family” when you couldn’t even talk to him half the time without walking on eggshells. Kikaku didn’t have any answers, aside from telling you “Fuck that shit” and take you out for a good time. 

Eventually, inevitably, the two of you transitioned from friends to friends with benefits; sitting and nursing his beer, Kikaku tries to shove the memory out of his head to no avail. How could he forget? His band had played one of their first shows and barely anyone had showed up, and the people that did hated them. 

You had been the only friendly face at the bar, toasting to him at the end of their set with a sympathetic smile. None of his other girls were answering his texts; you were there and the two of you had a little too much to drink at his place. When the other members left and it was just you and him, Kikaku let you hug him; according to you, he looked like he really needed one, but that wasn’t all he needed. Your body was soft and your breath smelled sweet and sharp from the plum wine. Before Kikaku could communicate to his brain that his dick was acting up around you and it would be a bad idea to act out on this sudden urge, you had kissed the top of his head and squeezed him to your chest. Kikaku can’t remember too much of what happened afterward, only flashes and sensations and waking up in the morning with a raging migraine and you laying nude on the futon next to him. 

It was a good thing the two of you had for a long time until the day you had come back to his apartment and refused a make out session with a serious expression. Kikaku could have guessed the problem; it was always the problem with his main girls. They got too close, too attached, even though Kikaku really didn’t make much of a secret that he wasn’t into the whole exclusive thing. Frankly, he didn’t think what the two of you had was special. You just had the benefit of knowing him the longest and being his friend first. 

That being said, you never showed signs of jealousy or feeling hurt by Kikaku’s other lovers, so he really hadn’t expected that to be the reason you decided to end things officially and not just the sex, but everything. No more shows or take out or movie nights. No more being friends; you called it being amiable. When you crossed paths, you would say hello and engage in a little small talk. Nothing more, nothing less. Kikaku accepted without making a fuss; he was in a shitty mood for a while but hey, getting dumped is never fun.

“Is that why you ended things?” Kikaku cut right to the chase as soon as you took the stool next to him; he slid the card over to your coaster, like it was some distasteful object. “You wanted to make things serious with this guy?”

“Hello to you too. How did you get this? Oh no, just water please.” You told the bartender, who had just come over to take your order. “Kikaku, my father sent this to your parents; how did you get it?”

“Wow, you weren’t even planning to invite an old friend to such a grand occasion?” Kikaku grumbles. “Cold. I thought you said no hard feelings.”

“I heard you were busy with work; besides, since when do you enjoy going to formal parties?” You give him a wry half smile. “Unless there’s an open bar.”

“Is there?”

“Yes. Father spared no expense.” You hold your glass of water but don’t take a drink. “He set up the whole thing. I didn’t even have to worry about picking out a dress. It’s all been decided.”

“What, did he pick out the groom too?”

Kikaku snorts but your smile is nowhere to be seen; you take the invitation and push it over to him. 

“I know it’s short notice, but I’d like your parents to come if they can. They’ve always been good to me; they’ve treated me more like a daughter than he ever did.” You tell him softly. “I must look pretty lame to you, huh? Letting my father marry me off and domesticate me. Is that why you called? Did you want a good laugh?”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Kikaku turns so quickly in his seat, he nearly knocks over his now empty glass. “I was joking: did your old man really pick the guy out? What, did he send out a resume or something?”

“He works at the same company; we’ve met a few times. His name’s Kenji Hazawa. He needs a wife and my father needs me to settle down. A match made in heaven.”

“So? What is wrong with you?” Kikaku’s eyes scan your face, hardly believing the words coming out of your mouth so casually. “You’re gonna let your dad marry you off to some asshole you don’t even like?”

“Stop. I do not need you, of all the people in the fucking world judging my decisions.” You fix him with a cold stare. “I gave it to you for free. You know what I get with Kenji? A comfortable life and my father finally off my back. I get freedom.”

“How?! How the hell is selling yourself to the highest bidder-?”

“I knew you wouldn’t understand. It’s why I never told you. That's why I stopped talking to you.” You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. “You just don’t get it, Kikaku. I’m a single woman nearly past her expiration date, father’s words not mine, and no one is letting me hear the end of it. I’m done fighting against it all by myself.”

“You don’t have to do this. He can’t force you.”

“It’s already decided. I just have to walk down the aisle and say ‘I do’ and I never have to worry about money or being looked down on again. Sweet deal, isn’t it? Sorry. I guess I’m not the cool badass bitch I thought I was.” You roll your eyes and suck in a breath of air. “I tried doing it my way and what did I get? My father is ready to disown me, everyone in my life is treating me like a joke, minus your folks.”

“I never-”

“No, no, I wasn’t a joke to you. I was a good time.” You correct yourself. “Well, now I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted and weak, alright? There, I admit it. I’ve been on my own in this and I’m sick and tired of it all. Is it really that different than you giving up music professionally for your merchandising job?”

“My job doesn’t fuck me.” 

The sentence slipped out before Kikaku could filter himself; but it’s true, isn’t it? Won’t your husband expect you to perform your wifely duties? Kikaku’s nails dig into his palms; he can’t get the image out of his head, a faceless man, on top of you, taking you as though you’re his. You might get pregnant. 

“How is this happening? She’s mine…she was mine.”

“It sounds like your job fucks you plenty.” You take a sip of water. “So, is that your issue? You won’t have the chance to get in my pants again if I’m spoken for?”

“Stop changing the subject, this isn’t about me.”

“It’s always about you.” 

Kikaku glares at you, but somehow can’t bring himself to truly be angry; you’re being so despondent and resigned. The person sitting next to him might as well be a stranger. The fire is gone from your eyes and the sly quirk of your lips is nowhere to be seen. But then, maybe that was just the face you showed him. Kikaku can’t even defend himself and say you hadn’t made him aware of what you were going through. You had, multiple times, for years. He just wasn’t taking it to heart. At some point, you apparently decided to pull back entirely. 

“Look, I don’t want to fight. I don’t hate you, Kikaku. This isn’t your business and I never meant for you to even know about the damn wedding. I’m going to get married next week and it’ll be okay. Kenji is a good man; we get along enough. We both know it’s a marriage of convenience.” You smile but it doesn’t reach your dull eyes. “Who knows? Maybe somewhere down the line we could fall in love. Either way, we’ll be content. It’s more than most people get to have.” 

“This is fucking crazy. You’re crazy.” Kikaku is hunched over the bar counter; his voice is shaking. He can’t look at you; all he can do is stare blankly at the wood panel. “You can’t be happy with this. I don’t believe that for a second.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I’m not asking for your blessing.” You put a few bills on the table. “Here, I still owe you for the last time we got drinks. You might not believe it, but I’m doing what’s best for me. I’m living my life for me. It’s my choice to do this, to make it all a little easier.”

“Is that the logic you’re using? Give up something to gain something you want more?” Kikaku leaves the bills on the counter, untouched. “Is it really worth it? Is this really what you want?”

“That’s also none of your business.” Despite your words, your tone is almost kind; with a faint smile, you stand up and push in the stool. “Have a goodnight, Kikaku.”

No. You can’t leave now, not like this. That smile is as fake as they come. Kikaku knows what your fake smiles look like; he’s always been able to tell how you’re feeling. He might not have been much of a comfort on your bad days, but he knew when you were having them, and he would try to make it a little better. 

When did that stop? It wasn’t his intention to make you feel uncared for. Kikaku might have played around, but it didn’t make his feelings for you any less. He was just caught up in other things. He had no idea you were having that hard of a time. 

You walk away and Kikaku doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t yell or leap from his chair to drag you from the door. He can’t feel his legs. You’re getting married. You’re going to be someone’s wife. He’ll never be able to make up with you. It’s over. You’re not going to give him the second chance Kikaku hadn’t even realized he had been hoping for. 

“She’s really gone. It’s really over. She’s getting married.” Kikaku mutters to himself. “She’s getting married and I…I can’t do anything to stop it.”

“Hey don’t worry so much. Most marriages end in divorce.” The bartender comes over to collect the empty glasses. “I got married twice and we were actually in love. Besides, if it’s a marriage of convenience, maybe you can be her side piece.”

“Huh?” Kikaku glowered up at the man smiling placidly down at him. “Who the fuck asked you?!”

“Just trying to offer some comfort. I thought you guys weren’t serious anyway. How drunk are you? Don’t you recognize me?” 

“Uh…”

“Nekota? This is my bar; it has been a while, but you came here a few times with a couple of my buddies.” 

“Oh right. Usao-kun and Kumao-kun’s old friend.” Kikaku recalls. “My bad, I was…I’m kinda out of it today.” 

“I could tell. That seemed rough. Want something stronger? On me, but just this once; still gotta make those child support payments after all, haha.” Nekota laughs good naturedly as he pulls down a bottle of tequila from the middle shelf. “Hey, that’s something to drink to; you’re a young bachelor, you’ve got plenty of time to settle down if you want to.”

Settle down? Kikaku never wanted to settle down; that was why things didn’t work between him and you in the first place. He has no right to feel so deflated. 

Was there some secret part of him that hoped you would eventually come back? Well, contrary to Nekota’s assurances, Kikaku doesn’t have time. You’re going to be married in a week. You’ll be someone else’s. He won’t have a place in your world, not any more, not when you’re going to be somebody's beautiful, blushing bride. 

“She doesn’t even love him. How can she do this?”

“Come on, Kikaku, right? Here, have a drink and relax.” Nekota beckons with his hand and sets down the shot of tequila. “The little lady said so herself, it’s not your problem.”

“No. I guess it’s not.”

Nekota is right and Kikaku doesn't need a two time divorcee to lecture him on matters of the heart. You had every right to go and marry another person, for whatever reason. Kikaku isn't even your friend anymore and he's certainly not your boyfriend. You don't owe him a thing and it's not his place to step in and try to convince you to not go through with a sham marriage. You've chosen your path and he's chosen his. All he can do now is toast to your nuptial and hope for the best. He can do that much for you.

"To the bride and groom." 

"Here, here!" Nekota clinks his own shot glass with Kikaku's. "Good man, you're gonna be just fine."

"Cheers." Kikaku slurs and downs his shot in one large swallow. "Here's to the whole thing goes off without a hitch."

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

“Do you take this woman, to have and to hold, to-”

“I OBJECT! NO ONE SAY ANOTHER DAMN WORD, I OBJECT!!!”

It took Kikaku two hours to get up that morning; he had been drinking into the late hours of the night in a last ditch effort to make sure he wasn't able to be mobile today off all days. Even now, dressed sloppily in an old suit, hair hastily tied back and eyes sunken in with sleep deprivation, he feels like he’s running in a dream. The venue is quaint but tastefully decorated in pastels. There’s not many guests; he supposes your father wanted to get the wedding done with little fanfare. The objective was to tie you down, not throw a celebration. 

“Son of a bitch.” Your father is the first one to rise; he addresses you angrily. “Did you invite him?”

“N-no!” 

You look aghast, glancing rapidly between Kikaku as he comes barreling down the aisle and your soon to be husband. Kenji looks twice as confused and a little scared, which is fair, considering how haggard and demented Kikaku looks, like a twitchy spider rushing to catch its prey. You hadn’t heard a peep from Kikaku since that night and his parents had politely turned down your invite, as they had a previous engagement they were committed to attend. It was a good thing they couldn’t, because you’re certain both Kikaku’s mother and father would keel over and die from the spectacle their son is currently making of himself. 

“I said, I object!” 

"Heavens above." The priest frowns. “Not another one.”

“WILL YOU SHUT UP?” It’s a wonder Kikaku can yell so loudly when he’s barely breathing; there’ sweat stains at his collar and the underarms of his blazer. “You can’t marry these two-they shouldn’t be married!”

“Who the heck are you?” Kenji’s brows furrow and he looks at you questioningly. “Do you know this guy?”

“Yes.” You sigh. “Kikaku, you’ve been drinking, haven’t you? I could smell you from the doors. Didn’t I tell you this wasn’t any of your business?”

“I don’t care! Dammit, I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry it took me so long to get my head out of my ass, but this isn’t about me.” Kikaku finally manages to speak without gasping. “I get it. You’re tired of dealing with your father’s bullshit and you think this is the only way out, but it’s not.”

“I’m calling the police!” Your father’s face is red and he looks ready to run up to the podium and deck Kikaku in the face. “How dare you? Haven’t you done enough? You weren’t good enough for her then and you sure as hell aren’t now.”

“Dad, you don’t need to call the police,” You look at him pleadingly. “Kikaku will leave on his own. He knows this is what I want.”

“No it’s not.” 

“Dammit, will you leave already!?” You’re the one raising your voice now; hot tears prick the corners of your eyes. “Why, Kikaku? Why are you doing this to me? Are you just upset because I won’t be available anymore? Well, too bad. Go play with one of your girlfriends and stop making a scene.”

“I’m sorry. I'll say it as many times as I have to.” Kikaku steps forward until he’s standing in front of you. “I’m sorry for not listening. I’m sorry it took me this long to get it, but you don’t have to get married.”

“What? Is this your idea of a proposal or something?”

“I don’t deserve you either. I should have been there more. I can be.” Kikaku looks at you, exhausted, desperate. “Don’t do this. Let me be there for you like I should have been all this time. You don’t have to fight on your own, not anymore. I’ll never leave you alone again.”

You blink and tears drip down your cheeks. “Kikaku,”

“I sent out messages to all the girls I was seeing last night. Look at my contact list.” Kikaku takes his phone out of his pocket and shows you the screen; his contact list only has a handful of names, people you recognize as family and work colleagues and friends. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, just…don’t marry this guy.”

“Kikaku, you’re being absolutely-!”

“Hey,” Kenji begins tentatively. “I think he makes a few good points.”

“What?” You turn to stare at your fiance. “But, I agreed to this.”

“It’s not like we’re in love.” Kenji cracks a begrudging smile. “It could’ve been nice but something tells me that’s not going to cut it.”

“I’m…I couldn’t just-”

“Also, your friend’s kinda freaking everyone out and I’m a little scared he’s going to put a curse on me.” Kenji glances at Kikaku. “You couldn’t have showered before coming to take the bride away?”

“You-!” Kikaku grabs your hand. “Just for that, you’re cursed! Everyone’s cursed! I hope the open bar is worth it assholes!” his eyes soften as he looks at your stricken face. “Can we talk somewhere more private? I think your old man is gonna kill me before the cops show up.”

You look at his hand; his palm is sweaty. 

“Please.” Kikaku’s voice is hoarse. “I won’t leave without you. I never want to go anywhere without you.”

“Damn you.” You’re really crying now. “You asshole.”

“Yeah.” Kikaku offers a weak smile; he glances down at your dress. “Oh. Wow.”

“Don’t say it.” You shake your head and wipe your eyes aggressively. “I know, it wasn't my choice.”

“You’re beautiful.”

Kikaku exhales and his grip on your hand tightens; he’s only just taking in the sight of you, dressed head to toe in a flowing white gown, dolled up and looking like an angel descended from heaven. 

Maybe he was full of shit because right now all Kikaku wants to do is take you away for himself. He brings a hand up to wipe the tears off your cheek; why do you look so sad? Is he really not wanted here? Is giving himself to you not enough?

“I’ve been a fucking mess all week.” Kikaku admits, eyes searching your face for any sign you don’t despise him. “I couldn’t sleep or eat or focus at work. I’m being shameless, you don’t have to tell me that. Maybe it’s too late for us, but I can still fix this. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Just tell me what I have to do.”

You’re blushing now under his intense stare. “...take me with you.”

“What?” Kikaku leans in to catch every word. “What do you want?”

“You. I want you, Kikaku. I want you to take me out of here.” You confess, trying not to whimper as his thumb rubs your hot cheek. “I can’t do this without you.”

“Say no more.”

You hike up your skirt and kick off your heels; Kikaku leads the way, the two of you ignore the shouts and gasps and threats being hurled your way by your father. Your eyes stay glued on the hand still clutching onto yours and you run, run, run until the car is in sight, decked out in flowers and a “Just Married” sign on the back. Kikaku opens the passenger side door and guides you into the backseat, even lifting the hem of your skirt so the door doesn’t close on it. The driver, rightfully skeptical and a bit horrified, practically throws the keys at Kikaku when he screeches for them. 

“I think everyone assumes you’re some sort of demon here to kidnap me.” You watch as the driver races up the steps of the venue, probably to explain why he’s left his post. “We’re going to have to return the car.”

“For now we drive,” Kikaku turns the keys, backs out of the parking space, and slams his foot on the gas. 

“This is fun for you, isn’t it?”

“A little.” Kikaku laughs, suddenly quite cheerful. “I’m relieved. I thought I was going to lose you…again. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“I’m still on the fence about that.” You tell him warily, taking off your veil. “Did you really mean all that?”

“I might have lied a tiny bit about not wanting to steal you away. I want you for myself. I know it’s not fair to you, but that’s how I feel. I was going crazy.” Kikaku looks at you from the corner of his eye. “You look really good right now.”

“Thanks.” You adjust your seat belt. “Eyes on the road.”

“I want to fuck you in the dress.” Kikaku blurts out. “Let’s get a hotel and pretend we’re married to get a free bottle of champagne.”

“Aren’t you still hungover?”

“Hair of dog. Besides, this calls for a celebration.” Kikaku smirks a little. “I know it’s scary the first time, but I’ll be gentle with my pretty little bride.”

“Kikaku, was this all so you could play out some weird little fantasy?” You grumble. “I’m gonna jump out of this car and run back and see if Kenji will reconsider.”

“No! I was half joking…I just want you so bad.”

“Kikaku,” You cross your arms. “I mean it, I’m not in the mood for any teasing.”

“I meant it all. I’m yours, if you’ll have me.” One of Kikaku’s hands leaves the steering wheel; his playful smile is gone. “Do you not want me anymore? I don’t expect you to believe in me, after everything…but do you want to try again?”

For a tense moment, Kikaku thinks his chest will explode; he might actually die if you say no, even if you have every right to reject him. But then you take his hand and interlock your fingers. You smile, a little exasperated, but it’s a real, genuine smile. It practically blinds him; Kikaku has half a mind to beg you to marry him then and there. There’s still time and Kikaku plans to use it making you fall in love with him so you never regret today.

“Yes.” You kiss the back of his hand and smile brighter than he’s ever seen. “I do.” 

Does anyone think the genie will leave Shindo and go to someone else?

I think it might end up getting transferred to Matakara ( maybe somehow involving his brother and Matakara's own insecurities about his strength) but that's just my theory. Ichiya will be like "ugh Shindo dude is actually weaksauce" and he may want to use Matakara since he's closer to Arajin who Senya is currently attached to.

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!?”

Bizarre Love Triangle

Kumatani Mitsuo/f!Reader/Usahara Tobikichi in a love triangle; since Usahara has more experience with dating he knows what's up but Kumatani is currently still in the dark about his own feelings. No real resolutions, just fluff and some angst and a My Best Friend's Wedding reference for funsies. Summary: For once Kumatani is the one oblivious and Usahara is all too aware of the dynamic that's developed between the three of you. Pining!Usahara, Obliviously Crushing!Kumatani, and Oblivious!Reader; let the needless drama begin! word count: 3.4k Playlist: I listened to a lot of Hot Freaks writing this and they deserve more attention (I also played Bizarre Love Triangle cover by Stabbing Westward on loop, hence the title :D ) Puppy Princess Write Me Letters Heartache I Want to Be Your Boyfriend End of the Night I Want You to Be My Daddy

Usahara sits to your left as Kumatani takes the seat to your right without really thinking about it. He’s noticed lately that keeps happening; when Kumatani and him started getting you to come out with them, you were still unfamiliar and it was natural for the two men to sit next to each other. 

In a restaurant, a bar, the movies, or even just going over to one another’s places for food and conversation, Usahara gravitated to sitting next to his friend and vice versa. He isn’t able to recall when Kumatani started occupying the space next to you. Kumatani doesn’t make a big show of it, but Usahara has noticed, every single time. Ironic, considering how people categorize him as the oblivious one, and they had a point, but this is different.

Kumatani’s never even been on a date; obligatory mixers and being pressured into joining “not date” group events don’t count. As long as Usahara has known him, Kumatani’s been single and not ready to mingle. 

“Careful.” Kumatani moves the pitcher of ice water out of your way as you reach for the sugar packets. “You’ll spill.”

“I saw it.” You roll your eyes with good humor, ripping open the packet with your teeth. “I’m not as clumsy as some people when I drink.”

“Who are you referring to, huh?” Usahara grabs the bowl of sugar packets away from your side of the table. “I resent that.”

“Yet you somehow knew she was talking about you.” Kumatani sips his water before pouring himself a cup of strong black coffee without any to add. 

“Oh, don’t you want some cream?” You were just about to hand him the smaller pitcher next to the coffee pot. “I thought you didn’t like plain black coffee.”

“Not usually.”

The three of you had come from a bar a few minutes away, varying levels of buzzed and starving, having not realized the bar didn’t have much in the way of food before stopping in to drink the stress of the day away. Usahara remembered this diner was nearby enough to walk to and open late just for these occasions. He guesses a good amount of business came from drunk people out and about with limited options. 

You had chosen a booth and the seat near the window; Kumatani had sat himself down next to you, leaving Usahara, once again, the odd man out. 

“You guys suck. Always ganging up on me.” Usahara still feels pretty drunk; he’s not known for holding his liquor but even he recognizes tonight was too much. “I feel bad enough. Can you pass me the coffee?”

“I told you to pace yourself.” You sigh, but can’t help smile at his lopsided grin. “You’re so goofy; here, let me pour you a cup. If anyone’s going to spill something, it’s you…”

“Thanks.” Usahara grins wider as you take his mug, pour in a generous helping of hot coffee and stir in three sugars and a splash of cream without needing prompting. “You’re the best; you’d make a great wife.”

“I don’t know if being able to pour coffee translates to being wife material.” You laugh, snorting a little. “I didn’t even make it.”

“It’s more like something you’d do as an unpaid intern.” Kumatani remarks cynically, shooting Usahara a stern look. “I’d say be careful burning your tongue, but it might actually be an improvement.”

“Ugh, next time I’m only going out with her.” Usahara gratefully takes the mug from your hand, fingertips barely brushing against yours; the steam heats up his face and he blows over the coffee to cool it down some. “What should we do for food? I’m still kinda queasy.”

“Hm, they have a sample platter option.” You’re glancing over the menu, lips pressed together as you read the list. “I’m not super hungry though; Kumatani, if I get this do you want to share with me?”

“Sure.”

Usahara brings the mug back to his lips, wondering what his expression must be; Kumatani has scooted closer to your end of the bench, ostensibly to get a closer look at the platter you’re referring to, except he has his own menu, untouched and closed by his cup of coffee. You point out something and look over briefly with a smile in his direction, somehow missing the way Kumatani edges over until his shoulder all but touches yours. He’s glancing from the menu to your face, his own expression as blank as ever; Usahara might have believed everything was exactly the same as it had been last year. That was when you started working on the set as a script doctor after Amon had a particularly harrowing mental breakdown over ideas of the newest season. You actually worked more with Derekida and Furode directly, but had naturally gravitated to the cast members; you appreciated their input without demanding they do your job for you. 

Usahara had thought you were cute before you spoke a word; he was beyond excited to have you join him and the other staff on work trips and after hours social hour. It was way more fun to chat with a cutie pie who laughed at his jokes, so when things progressed to a friendship outside of the job, Usahara didn’t have any complaints.

The three of you have a good thing going on. You’re both Usahara and Kumatani’s friend. Sometimes you go with Usahara to karaoke or leisurely rides on his motorcycle around the expanse of the oceanside roads and other days you go with Kumatani to watch a cheesy B movie or browse pet stores for cat treats. You’ve helped Usahara’s parents move a couch and treated Kumatani’s brother to snacks. 

Usahara is almost completely certain Kumatani has no idea. He doesn’t seem to be cognizant of the way he instinctively goes to make sure you’re okay, almost tending to you, even though you don’t need it. Pulling you away from the traffic side of the walkway, asking if you got enough sleep when you’re yawning a lot, always offering unprompted advice and a sympathetic ear. If you were someone more like Hachita or even Iketeru, Usahara would understand the perpetual need to oversee you, like a magnetic pull. That’s just the type of person Kumatani is. 

“You should have ordered the honey lemon tea.” You’re nudging Kumatani’s arm with your elbow. “Get it?”

“Uh huh.”

“Cause bears.”

“Yep.”

“Bears? Honey?” You smile at Usahara conspiratorially. “You get it, right?”

“I got it.” Usahara doesn’t want to laugh, but he can’t help it; you’re in a silly mood and it’s adorable. He’s not laughing at you; there’s a bubbling, tingling in his chest. It’s too much, he has to do something about it, and his gut says to laugh. “What should I order?”

“Carrot cake.”

Usahara doubles over and now you’re in hysterics too, giggling like a madwoman; you’re still buzzed and off balance, so you teeter to the side. As you place your hand over your mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound, your head rests lightly against Kumatani’s shoulder. The pleasant sensation in Usahara’s chest squeezes his heart painfully at the way Kumatani goes utterly still as you bury your face into his shoulder when you can’t force the giggles to stop. Usahara may as well cease to exist in this shared space; nothing else is visible in Kumatani’s field of vision. His jaw goes slack, his shoulders slump, and his eyes lose any trace of weary skepticism. 

“You’re drunk.” Kumatani’s voice is strangely hushed; gently props you up and only looks away so he can top off your glass of water. “Go on, have some more water.”

“I will, thank you.” You wipe your eyes and obediently take the glass from Kumatani. “I’m not that drunk though.”

“You’re gonna have a nasty hangover and I’m the one who’s going to have to bring you breakfast because you’re too incapacitated to go grocery shopping.”

“I’ll do it.”

Both you and Kumatani look up suddenly in Usahara’s direction; it takes a second for him to realize how loudly he had spoken.

“We’ll both be dealing with some gnarly hangovers, so let’s grab a late breakfast together.” Usahara continues, undeterred by the embarrassment creeping up on him. “You wanted to try that crepe place, yeah?”

“Oh my gosh yes!” You say excitedly, practically shooting up on your seat. “Let’s do that! Whoever wakes up last pays!”

“Aw, no fair, you know I’m a heavy sleeper-”

“How would she know that?”

It’s Usahara’s turn to look taken aback: Kumatani isn’t giving him a death glare per say, but the look in his eyes has gone from soft and mushy to cold steel. 

“This lightweight crashed at my place last week; I almost broke my back dragging him out of the road.” You explain casually as you fold your menu and place it on top of the table. “Does everyone know what they want?”

“Good question.” Usahara mumbles.

“We’re splitting the sample platter.” Kumatani puts his menu and yours together. “What about you?”

“Carrot cake.” Usahara winks at you, twitching his nose like a rabbit might. 

You return his smile somewhat exasperated. “Be serious: you should eat something too. How about a sandwich? Or soup?”

“Soup is good.” 

Usahara doubts he can handle anything heavier right now; his stomach is churning. Why do you have to be so sweet and funny and smart and perfect? And why did Kumatani have to be so dense? Usahara almost wants to clue him in, just so he can get this over with and you can put them both out of their misery. 

But, what if you pick one of them? What if they both confess and you decide to choose one and the other person is left to be the third wheel? It’s possible that time will overtake both his and Kumatani’s silly, stupid crushes.

Except, this isn’t a crush anymore. Usahara might even be falling in love with you, the same woman one of his best friends is unknowingly, hopelessly fawning over. Staring at you, Kumatani looks more drunk than he has all night. It’s a shame: if Usahara wasn’t so terrified of Kumatani becoming self aware, he would be teasing him relentlessly. 

By the time the late, late dinner is over, Usahara doesn’t feel much better; he spent an hour, sitting all by himself on the other end of the table, essentially forced to watch Kumatani fuss and you, drunkenly, foolishly, humoring him as Kumatani did everything short of hand feeding you. At one point a bit of sauce had smeared near the corner of your mouth; Usahara didn’t know how he managed to stop himself from sweeping all the plates to the floor and vaulting over the table when Kumatani took a napkin to dab at your mouth. 

Once more, you’re in the middle, Kumatani and Usahara on either side, lagging behind you by a step or two. Usahara, with an unearned satisfaction, smiles at the way you sway a little from side to side, humming some melody over and over. 

“Aw, I wanna do karaoke. Usahara? Can you do me a favor?” 

You pout and look over your shoulder at Usahara with the biggest doe eyes, as though you need to even try to act cute to sway him into doing anything; his heart is throbbing against his rib cage. Yes, please, look at him, ask him for something, any little thing your brain can think up. Usahara needs you to look at him first. He knows Kumatani, the strong, quiet, reliable one, he’s the one who's boyfriend material, the guy you take home to meet your family and build a future with. Usahara’s the goofy buddy, cracking jokes and one liners, good company for a fun time and he’s eager to please. 

Unlike Kumatani, Usahara is painfully aware of how he comes off and wouldn't be surprised in the least if you had him all figured out already. He scrambles to be at your beck and call, incessantly following you around like a lost puppy for scraps of attention and praise. It doesn’t matter if you’re asking for his opinion on a script or inquiring about a good spot for grilled meat; it’s an opportunity to prove something to you, to finally make something click in your head and somehow, realize he was always the one. 

"Pick me." Usahara can't stop his own train of thought as you hesitate. You always make his mind go to mush like this. "Choose me. Let me make you happy."

“What’s up?” Usahara grins like it’s all some big joke but he could drown in those big eyes, melt against your pouting lips. “Your wish is my command.”

“What’s that band called? The one we heard on the radio yesterday on your bike?”

“Hot Freaks?” 

“Yeah that’s it! Man, that was bugging me, I hate when I forget stuff like that. Thanks.”

“Sure thing.” Usahara doesn’t stop smiling. Pathetic. He’s so pathetic. “Weather’s supposed to be pretty decent tomorrow; want to go for a ride after breakfast? Lunch? Brunch?”

“Is it? Alright, I’m game.” You give him a knowing look. “No funny business, no driving like a maniac. You nearly gave me a heart attack last time when you-oh!”

“Hey!”

“Watch it!”

There doesn’t seem to be anything to trip over, but all the same, you had wobbled and lurched back. The only reason you’re not laying flat on your back and looking up at the starry sky is because Usahara and Kumatani had sprung into action; there’s two sets of hands on both your shoulders, steadying you so you can stand upright. There’s no telling who reached you first.

“Dammit, pay attention to where you’re walking.” Kumantani’s hand grips onto your shoulder, firm and assuring. “Do you need to lean on me?”

“I got her.” Usahara hasn’t let go of your shoulder and his other hand takes yours gently. “I can take her home with me; we are gonna hang out tomorrow anyway.”

“You’re drunk too; why don’t you go home and sleep it off?” Kumatani says pointedly. “I’ll make sure she’s alright.”

“Dude, she doesn’t need a babysitter.” 

“I’m the one who’s the most sober, it makes sense if I take her back.”

“We’re closer to my place.”

“I don’t trust you!”

“What?” Usahara stares incredulously. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I-I didn’t mean, wait,” Kumatani looks just as taken aback by his outburst. “I’m only saying, you’ve been drinking a lot.”

“Uh, guys?” You look back and forth between them; your head's spinning. “Guys?”

“So that means I’d take her back to my place and…do what exactly?” Usahara could punch someone. “Take advantage of her?”

“I didn’t say that.” Kumatani shakes his head earnestly. “Look, I don’t know what got into me, okay? I’m sorry.”

Kumatani isn’t lying; Usahara knows it, but it doesn’t mean he’s any less pissed. What Kumatani actually meant by “I don’t trust you” is he doesn’t trust Usahara to be alone with you, not when he’s drunk and loose lipped and liable to say something to finally tip the scales in his favor. If Kumatani heads out and leaves the two of you alone now, will there be sparks? The line could finally be crossed and what could Kumatani do but be left to the wayside, the official third wheel, and it’s too little too late for him. 

Usahara knows something of the sort is running through Kumatani’s racing mind, because that’s how he feels every time the three of you are together now.

“Forget it.” Usahara releases your arm. “You’re right, I’m really drunk; I can walk back to my place. You should take her home.”

“Hey, Usahara, Kumatani?” You speak up tentatively. “Is something…like, going on? You two have been acting off all night. Did something happen between you two?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Kumatani also retracts his hand, but stays close to you. “We’re tired, that’s all.”

“Cause seriously, I know Usahara; you don’t think he’d try to take advantage of a drunk girl, do you?” You ask Kumatani directly. “He’s your friend.”

“I know, that’s not it, I was just…I get overprotective sometimes. I had a few too many myself earlier.” Kumatani seems to shrink under your critical eye. “I went into big brother mode, I guess. I’m sorry.”

“Well, thanks, but you don’t need to apologize. I never have to worry about anything around you, Kumatani.” You tell him with a warm smile. “I know you don’t mean to overdo it; and anyway, it’s what I like about you.”

“Don’t oversell it.” Kumatani rubs the back of his neck. “Either way, I’d feel weird making you go home alone. Let us walk you back.”

“I appreciate you two looking out for me.” You say gratefully and pat Kumatani’s head. “You know, you’re like the big brother I always wanted, but tone it down a notch, alright? We’re all just hanging out having fun, right?”

“Yeah, right.” 

Kumatani watches dumbly as you start walking once more, eyes forward this time to avoid any unexpected trips to the ground. He looks lost and Usahara can’t stop the pangs of sympathy that go out to his friend. 

“Oh wow dude.” Usahara mutters, clapping a hand to Kumatani’s shoulder. “That’s rough.”

“Shut. Up.”

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

There’s mostly silence on the way back to your apartment with occasional attempts on your end to get a conversation going again. After the exchanges of goodbyes and goodnights, Usahara and Kumatani wait at your door, making sure you get inside and lock it behind you. They stand outside your door for a few seconds before turning around.

“I need a freaking drink.”

“Want to get a nightcap?”

“Sure, whatever.” Kumatani’s expression softens. “Hey, I am sorry about earlier. I honestly didn’t mean it that way. I know you wouldn’t...”

“Yeah, I figured.” Usahara sighs. “Still, you thought we might end up doing something if it was just us alone.”

“I don’t know what I thought.”

“Dude, playing dumb is my thing.”

“You are dumb.”

Usahara smiles. “So, what do we do?”

“What do you mean?” Kumatani looks genuinely confused. “About drinks?”

“Ugh, man, you’re depressing me.” Usahara whines. “Just be straight with me: are you going to ask her out or not?”

Kumatani scowls. “None of your business.”

“Fine, be that way.” Usahara's smile falls. “Hypothetically, what if she decides to date one of us?”

“I doubt it.”

“I mean, you might be the cool one, but girls like a good sense of humor.” Usahara says lightly, folding his hands behind his head. “And you’re about as dry as seaweed paper.”

“Can you take anything seriously?”

“I’m serious about her.” 

Usahara stops in his tracks; the bunny’s already out of the hutch. He’s never been one to bite his tongue and keep his thoughts to himself anyway. 

“I’m pretty sure when I tell her, she’s gonna laugh in my face, but I don’t care. If there’s even a small chance, I’m going for it. She’s worth it.” Usahara frowns. “Are we going to be okay?”

Kumatani’s mouth is downturned, considering the question sincerely. After years of knowing each other, Usahara can’t name an instance where they’ve fought. Bickering, sure, and plenty of times where Kumatani’s wrath has been activated or Usahara’s been irritated, but it’s never gotten serious. 

“I don’t think so.”

“You hesitated.”

“Well, what about you?” Kumatani asks defensively. “Are you going to cry if she starts dating someone?”

“...honestly?” Usahara chuckles sheepishly. “Probably. This really sucks.”

“No arguments there.” Kumatani concedes with a wry smile. “We have to be cool; we can’t count on Uramichi or Nekota to offer any sympathy about this, can we?”

“Yeah right; if she picks me, I’m going to rub it in your face.”

“I’m going to go back to her place right now and tell her that.”

“No! I’m sorry Kumatani, it was a joke, just a joke!”

“Hey, I like her too.”

“Uh,”

“I get it now.” Kumatani says quietly. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”

Usahara’s stomach drops; this is exactly what he was dreading, but what is he going to do? Tell Kumatani to knock it off? Say “But I liked her first!” and call dibs? He feels childish enough; when Kumatani had so innocently put his hands on you to keep you propped upright, Usahara had to fight off another pesky impulse, this time to yank you into his arms and never let go.

“Took ya long enough.” Usahara yawns. “I changed my mind; I’m gonna go to bed so I can get up early.”

“Early?” Kumatani looks vaguely disbelieving. “You really don’t want to pay for breakfast, huh?”

“I’m paying either way.” Usahara shrugs. “Shouldn’t the guy pay on dates?”

Kumatani stands under the street light and Usahara can see the resolve in his gaze. 

“Does she know it’s a date?”

“Call it a test run.” Usahara shrugs his shoulders again. “See you later, Kumatani.”

“Later.” 

Kumatani nods stiffly; they walk away in opposite directions, satisfied to leave things on a tentative truce of sorts. Usahara knows he’s being a little sneaky, but he believes whatever happens, their friendship can survive the fall out. Ultimately the final decision is yours alone.

Until then, all's fair in love and war. 

You know, getting the info last episode that "Siguma" is a mish mash of "single minded", it's interesting how Arajin is kind of stuck on the fence between Siguma and Minato Kai's ideologies.

Like, yeah, he is incredibly single minded when it comes to losing virginity/romance and is generally only invested in his own wants and how things are affecting him directly. He is self serving and throws away what logic and reason he has when it comes to what he wants. Arajin’s goals can hardly be called chaotic and rebellious in the way Siguma members behave, the things he wants are very run of the mill, but he’s saying screw everything else, I'm getting what I want.

But on the flip side, in keeping with Minato Kai values, Arajin has a past of wishing to pursue strength for the sake of it, is deeply ashamed of his failure to stand up for Matakara in the past (showing he does see value in things like friendship and loyalty otherwise he just wouldn't give af) and he does have a moral compass presently no matter how much he wants to ignore it for his own self preservation.

One example I think of is the way he reacted to Shindo threatening Mahoro: I think the narrative is meant to portray this as not just him feeling possessive over his crush or similarly selfish motivations. Arajin is disgusted at the idea of Shindo violating her and treating her so disrespectfully. Even though he's been super oblivious to Mahoro's disdain, (her acting sweet to manipulate him aside) he hasn't tried to pressure her into doing anything or acts like he's entitled to her. But also, it was pretty short sighted and insane of Arajin to attack this person who is (at least initially) very clearly out of his league and without calling on Senya's powers to help him.

Just an interesting thing I noticed about Arajin’s character and how his personality has traits of the kind of person both of Ichizu's gangs want in their ranks.

Birthday Wishes

Summary: Uramichi may not like birthdays, but he might like you. 2.5k A/N: Official art from Gaku Kaze; Uramichi Omota/F!Reader, lots of fluff and some humor. TW: Mentions of depression and self esteem issues (kinda a given considering it's Uramichi, but still) Enjoy!

Working on Together with Maman was one of the most thankless, tedious jobs you’ve ever been underpaid to do. While the director got to lord over the staff and the actors got some praise and respect, you were just one of the many unsung heroes behind the scenes. Editing out Uramichi Omota’s regular mental breakdowns and existential crises from the show’s footage was a full time job in and of itself, but you did it every week without fail for the past three years. At this point you could practically do it in your sleep; sometimes Uramichi’s strained, desperate attempts to keep a cheerful expression on his face made regular appearances in your dreams. You suspected the void that was his stare would haunt your mind long after the time came for you to leave Together with Maman .

You did feel a bit guilty at the twinge of resentment you had toward the cast when they got the lion’s share of the glory. After all, they all had their good points: to start, Kumitani was fairly considerate of the staff, particularly those on the lowest rungs of the workplace hierarchy. Speaking of hidden kindness, despite Utano’s complaints, she was a devoted and thoughtful girlfriend. Iketeru’s childish wonder and joy was infectious; he hardly ever complained and was very appreciative. Even Usahara with his bad habit of putting his foot in his mouth, was still committed to a certain level of professionalism and was quick to amend for his mistakes. When everything was said and done, you had a fondness for them all.

Last but not least, there was Uramichi. One works with many different types in the entertainment industry and you were no stranger to washed up, jaded, regularly drinking their weight in booze performers putting on a show off and on camera but Uramichi was the worst.

Needless to say, you were crazy about the man.

Today was Uramichi’s 32nd birthday and though he no doubt would prefer to ignore such a day all together, you couldn’t help yourself. This was the perfect time to do something to show your appreciation for Uramichi and not just as a gymnast oniisan. With any luck, he might not hate it. In fact, you were certain he was going to love what you chose to do.

After making up an excuse to get his attention, Uramichi dutifully trailed after you, grim faced and changed out of his costume. You intercepted him just as Usahara and a somewhat less enthusiastic Kumatani were going to usher their colleague to a bar for a night of begrudging celebration. As unlikely as it was that Uramichi would rather spend any evening doing more work, you thought he seemed a bit relieved to be taken away. 

“Sorry, this won’t take long.”

“It’s fine.” Uramichi assured you in the most unconvincing attempt you ever heard. “Your job is editing, right? What do you need me for?”

“I wanted to get your approval on a few things. I wanted to work in some parts of what you were saying to the kids before.”

“From the segment about labeling?” 

That particular sketch was meant to teach the children about putting their names on their school things. Doing this would help them keep track of their positions, as well as teach them about personal responsibility. It could even be a good chance to allow children to practice their spelling and penmanship. It all went about as well as it could have.

“The bit where you warned the children about adhering to the labels others will try to assign to you and how the pressures of society are designed to slowly crush any trace of individuality that doesn’t help them go with the flow was a bit long winded, but I think we can keep in bits and pieces.”

“You…want to keep it in?”

“I mean, it’s not a bad message.” You type in the passcode to the staff room. “The script is good, but you have a way of talking to kids so they can understand without talking down to them. Not everyone learns at the same pace; it helps when adults can get on a kid’s level. Most are too proud.”

“You,” Uramichi followed you into the room. “Are you saying I lack pride as an adult?”

“What? No.”

As you pull out a seat for Uramichi to use, his face says he doesn’t believe you. Seeing how despondent he is makes you want to call the whole thing off, but then you would have to come up with an excuse as to why you requested his presence in the first place. 

Anyone would be justified in feeling insulted at Uramichi’s knee jerk reaction to assume the worst; it’s hardly charming, but you get it. How much of Uramichi’s attitude is natural or something he uses like a shield is anyone’s guess. 

“I guess it makes sense. It’s not like we know each other that well. Besides, this is our first time speaking one on one and I had to lie to you.” 

Uramichi was glancing around the room; there wasn’t any projector or cameras or a computer. 

“Wait, so you don’t think I have any pride?”

“Hey, are you even listening to me?” You stare in disbelief. “I meant about looking over the footage. Hold on, I need to-”

“So then…was all that other stuff you said just to get me to come here?”

“No, it wasn’t. I’ve already got someone editing that segment anyway.” 

In the corner is an easel, like one of the props they use for presentations in the show. Instead of a whiteboard or a display of cartoon images, there’s a sheet covering up the project you’ve been working on just for today. 

“That’s good.”

“Huh?”

“I thought you were going to lecture me about being more professional so you didn’t have such a heavy workload. I’m sure most of your time is taken up erasing the evidence of my family unfriendly fits of despair. My bad.”

“Even hearing you apologize is bumming me out.” You sigh. “Listen, it’s not that much trouble. Besides, it’s really not my place to scold you or the other cast members.”

“Why not? You have to make up for our screw ups. Don’t tell me it can’t be stressful. You look tired just being here.”

“That’s not really something you should say to a woman. Well, anyone really.”

The blank stare widens as Uramichi realizes what he implied, but you cut him off. Things have gotten awkward enough without dragging on this conversation. Besides, you brought him here to cheer him up, if that’s even possible.

“I hope you like this. I made it for your birthday. Well, I put it together. The kids made it.”

You unveil the display with a smile, hoping you had this right and Uramichi wasn’t going to walk out. Or worse, put on his fake smile to spare your feelings. You prefer an honest reaction to your efforts.

“These are all the drawings kids have sent in for the past year. I got the idea to save them up and make a collage.”

The board is covered in crayon doodles, rough sketches, and messy paintings. There’s some postcards and pages ripped from coloring books. Almost all of them are of Uramichi-oniisan in various costumes, mainly his tracksuit: in some he’s frolicking with Kumao-kun or Usao-kun or holding hands with Utano and Iketeru. Some illustrations are of Uramichi surrounded by children or animals or just random scribbles. There’s also a decent amount featuring Kotori-san but you try not to think about that too hard. 

“I thought maybe we could show the board in a show, but I wanted you to see it first. We could keep it safe in the studio, if you don’t have room for it in your place. It’s your birthday present.” 

Uramichi stands up to get a closer look; he doesn’t look appalled and you choose to take this as a good sign. You step to the side, trying not to seem too nervous when he stands by your side; after a minute, Uramichi still hasn’t said anything. Even so, you’re feeling more worried by the second.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Good.” You smile, but don’t feel too relieved. “You’re not just saying that, right? It’s okay, you can be honest. Is it too cheesy? Maybe I should have left out the ones with Kotori-san.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I hate that demon, but the kid’s probably worked hard to draw it. I don't mind so much. You said this took a year?”

“More or less. Uramichi, whatever you think, you’re appreciated. The kids see you do your best. It’s more than a lot of people bother to do. I figured you wouldn’t want a staff party, but everyone here sees it too. We’re glad to have you as our gymnast oniisan.”

Uramichi was still looking over the pictures. “You work a lot harder than I do.”

“I wouldn’t say that. Our jobs are just different.”

“But no one gives the behind the scenes crew much credit. I’ve never been especially considerate to your job before, but you spent a year making me a present?”

“I only collected the drawings. It only took a couple hours to actually put it together.” You replied. “Is this too much?”

“Yeah. I don’t deserve this.” Uramichi told you bluntly. “I don’t get it. Why did you do this?”

For a long time now, you’ve watched Uramichi drag himself through the day; as much as he professes going through the motions, you know that’s not exactly true. 

“The thing is, I wish I could do more. I want you to have a nice birthday.”

“I don’t like celebrating my birthday. It just reminds me that I’m a year older and I’ve wasted more time. Which is strange, since I don’t even know why I feel that way. I can’t even imagine what else I would be doing if I wasn’t an oniisan, so why do I feel like I’m wasting time at all? I can’t do this forever. I’m already 32, but I don’t have anything planned for when I get too old for Together with Maman. ’’

“You could probably still find work on another show. It doesn’t have to be physical. Unless you want to leave the industry for something else entirely. I bet you could do something with your physical education degree; you’ve had experience with children, then maybe you could work that into whatever you go for next.” 

“That…sounds like a lot to think about.”

You can’t help laughing a little at how defeated Uramichi looks just from the prospect of having to start over. It’s oddly cute, like a sad puppy being told they have to go to the vet.

“It is, but if you do it one step at a time, it won’t be so daunting. That’s why I like birthdays: I see them as a chance to, well,” You scratch your head. “It’s like, yes, I made it another year! It wasn’t easy, but I’m here and that’s enough. It’s something to celebrate.”

“Hey, you should be more careful with how you phrase things.”

“What did I say wrong?”

“You’re going to make me think you have feelings for me or something.” Uramichi chuckles dryly, turning his back on you to head toward the door. “If I was Usahara, I would take this as a proposal. But anyway, thanks. I can’t remember when someone tried so hard. I guess I should return the favor. I’m being emotionally blackmailed into going out tonight: if you want, you can join. Or not. Do you drink?”

“Yes, to both.”

“Both?”

“I wanted to tell you this now, before I start taking classes full time next month. Uramichi, I like you. I do, so,” You clear your throat. “Happy birthday. I hope you’ll still accept the poster. It’s more from the kids than me anyhow. I was going to bake you something, but I wasn’t even sure if you liked cake or-”

“You talk a lot. Hold on, I need a minute.”

Uramichi has his head in his hands; he looks pale and visibly disturbed. It seems like your confession wasn’t appreciated, but you could have guessed as much. Maybe you’re too different or maybe Uramichi just isn’t interested in dating.

You can respect that, no matter how much it hurts you. In hindsight, it would have been better to keep quiet or just wait until your time was done at the studio, but you naively assumed Uramichi might like hearing someone cared. Not everything comes with conditions or ulterior motives; sometimes the pay off is as straightforward as making someone else’s day a little easier to get through. 

“I’m sorry. I should go.” You make your way past him to the door. “I hope you enjoy your night!”

“Wa-wait don’t just leave! You can’t drop a bomb like that and just breeze past like-like-!” Uramichi stumbles to get to you before you rush outside. “You’re serious? Did Usahara put you up to this?”

“No.”

“Well, are you, like, sure? You didn’t mistake me for someone else?”

“You’re Uramichi Omota?”

“Yeah.”

“If this makes you uncomfortable, you really don’t have to worry, I never said anything to anyone else.”

“It’s not that. I’m just…processing. Do you really?”

“You know, maybe the next segment we do should be on active listening skills.” You cross your arms. “Uramichi, this isn’t rocket science. If you’re not interested, okay. I’ll live. I don’t mind being single, but I wouldn’t be bothering you with this if I wasn’t serious.”

Uramichi seems calmer, but no less baffled; it’s probably the most emotion you’ve ever seen him emote at once that wasn’t irritation or exhaustion. Surely he has had other girls confess to him before; you heard he was pretty popular in school. You don’t see why he’s having a hard time handling this one. 

“When I was drunk, I said I thought you were cute. I wouldn’t put it past that damn bunny to try to rope you into one of his pranks.”

You grin. “You did? When?”

“Come on, I’m embarrassed enough. I’m too old for this.”

“For what?”

“To act this way.” Uramichi sighs and drags a hand over his face. “I hate it. It’s like I’m back in high school or something. It’s awkward and I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Don’t you already feel that way?”

“That doesn’t help.”

“So then?” You shrug your shoulders. “Am I cute enough to date?”

To your surprise, Uramichi’s cheeks flush slightly; you wonder if your own nervousness is showing. Truly, adults pretend as much as kids do. 

“Is that offer for a drink still valid? Unless you don’t want me flirting with you in front of everyone.”

“No way.” Uramichi objects. “I don’t want to deal with that headache. Let’s not say anything until after you’re done working here.”

“Oh, now who’s making big plans for the future?” You can't resist a little more teasing. "I thought looking that far ahead was too much to handle?"

“That was when I didn’t have something to look forward to.”

Uramichi might not have meant it to sound like a line; he said it with the same bland, borderline monotone that he usually spoke with, but you feel butterflies all the same.