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The Delinquent Next Door - Part 1: Strange Encounter

Synopsis: You come home, only to see your neighbor trying to break into his own apartment. What’s more? He’s a complete jerk!

Pairing: Hanma Shuji X Neighbor! Reader

Genre: Fluff? I’m not sure- (Neighbors to lovers)

Warnings: Mild cussing, insults, mild mentions of blood and violence

A/N: This is my first time posting on here, so I hope you enjoy! (check out part 2!)

Part 1    Part 2     Part 3     Part 4 

All Hanma wanted was to be able to pass the time with a couple of beers he had snagged from the shitty, run down convenience store around the corner near his apartment complex. 

Kisaki hadn’t called him up to take part in another one of his adventurous schemes that he had planned for the night, so he decided to take the opportunity to relax for the night and just wait for him to call him out in the confines of his small, shaggy apartment. 

But, that plan immediately went to shit after he had performed an entire body search on himself for the past half hour for the one thing that was keeping him from entering his apartment.

Just fucking peachy.

Cursing under his breath, Hanma continues to aggressively search his soaked  hoodie and jeans for his keys. 

Just where the hell could they be? I could’ve sworn I left with them...

Then, he pauses, and in that moment, realization slapped him across the face.

Before he had went to the convenience store, he had saw the chance to pick a fight with a few small fry gangsters that were nearby. The reason behind it? Simple. He was bored. And, while doing so, it had started to pour, but, of course, that didn't stop him. 

However, it didn’t occur to him at the time that there was a possibility that he could’ve dropped his keys while he was having a field day with the poor souls that happened to ‘stumble’ across his way. 

After all, he couldn’t just go home without having a little bit of his own fun. Wreaking havoc was something that he needed, so his life didn’t feel as dull as a rock. Picking fights was the same as eating and sleeping in his mind. 

Anyone who took a glance at him, let alone witness the way he would walk around with his clothes that were occasionally decorated with small blood splatters as well as coupled with his bloody knuckles, would know right off the bat that the word ‘peaceful’ didn't exist in his world. 

That included his next door neighbor.

However, the current question remaining was how he was supposed to get inside without his keys.

The answer he was looking for immediately surfaced in his mind.

Guess I’m just gonna have to kick the door open.

Sure, instead of busting down the door like the heathen he is known to be, he could just ask the landlady for the spare keys to his door. 

But, then he'd have an earful of the old hag’s nagging, and that's the last thing he needed to add to his night.

Besides, there wasn’t anyone around to scold him for it, so it was the perfect chance to bust down the door without getting reprimanded in the process. 

Huffing, he lets the plastic bag he had slinked around his wrist drop to the floor with a heavy thud.

He plants his left foot down, while he readies his right foot to kick the door. 

Lifting his right foot up, he shifts all his weight into his leg, forcing his foot forward as he lands the first kick against the door. 

He repeats the action for a few minutes, until he sees a slight crack in the opening, but not enough to completely open it.

Another one should do it.

Before he could kick the door again, he stops mid-way when he hears a familiar voice ring in his ears.

“Excuse me.”

His body completely freezes, as if he was stuck in time for a moment. 

Slowly, he brings his right foot down, and turns his head to the side, only to see the one and only person he’d least expect to be out so late at night.

You. His fellow next-door neighbor.

Usually, you’d be home by 10 and have classical music blasted all night long. How exactly does he know this? 

He just happens to watch stalk you from the stairwell on the second floor whenever he’s out for a smoke. Your routine was quite predictable.

His golden orbs scan over you, observing the tension in your muscles as he casts his gaze at you from a few feet apart.

You wore plain jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, along with an ugly-looking, dark brown apron with nothing but your flimsy name-tag adorning it at the top right corner.

The awkward silence didn’t do the situation any justice as you held the stare of the tall, lanky male, who’s clothes were in the same condition as your own.

“Um...I know it’s not any of my business, but... I don’t suppose you need help getting in?” Your voice slightly trembled, but it held concern for the infamous delinquent.

Furrowing his brows at the offer, he glances at the slightly cracked door and back at you.

“You want to help me break down the door?”

Your eyes flew wide open at the response. 

“Is that what you’ve been trying to do?! Do you not have your keys?” You questioned.

He shoved his hands in his muggy pockets and shrugged. “Lost em’.”

“Why not ask the landlady then? You do realize you are gonna have to pay for the damages? Or even worse, get kicked out?,” You interrogated, folding your arms over your chest. The tension in your body completely melting as you scold the tall male, as if he were a child.

The admonishment and questioning was annoying, yet...cute? 

A smirk tugs at his lips. How amusing it was to get scolded by his usually quiet neighbor. Hell, he’d go so far as to try to add more fuel to the fire. 

“Well I certainly ain’t gonna wanna answer to the old bat, so do ya got any better ideas doll?” The cliché pet name rolls smoothly off his tongue. Funny how he’s trying to to be flirty, despite the odd situation he was conversing with you in.

“Watch your mouth,” you retort. 

The response only causes to further grow the devious smirk on Hanma’s face. His amusement at the small banter doesn’t go unnoticed by you. 

“If you’re so bothered by going to ask the landlady for the spare keys, then you could just pick the lock.”

“Do I look like a burglar to you?”

“I didn't mean it like that!”

He hums, “Sure.”

Strike one.

“Besides, I wasn't talking about you.”

His eyes widen for a moment.

Wait...what?

Shocker much? To Hanma it certainly was unexpected. 

Hanma had never expected his shy, passive neighbor to even have an idea on how to break inside someone’s home. Let alone have the knowledge to pick a lock.

Funny how you can learn a lot from people you barely interact with in just one night.

He quirks a questioning brow as he points a slender finger to the door. Once again, glancing from it and then back to you.

“Are you telling me...you know how to pick a lock?”

Silence. 

You turn your head to side as heat rises to your cheeks. Subconsciously, you slightly shift from one foot to the other.

“Well...I mean...”

“You can pick a lock?”

Strike two.

This jerk.

You whip your head back to him and scoff. 

Unbelievable.

I guess this is what happens when you try to be helpful to the infamous delinquent of Kabukicho. Give em’ and inch and they take a whole damn mile. 

You knew better to expect this, but you were raised to help others, no matter who they were or what they did. Regardless, he was starting to tick you off.

Just how cocky is he?

If only you knew.

“Yes, I can pick a lock.” You force out, feigning confidence in your answer, despite the fact that you were perfectly capable in doing so.

He narrows his eyes, the same shit-eating smirk stretched across his face. “A goody-two-shoes like you can pick a lock? I don’t believe it.” He mocks, folding his arms as he leans against the cement balcony.

And there goes strike three.

“Why you-! You know what. Fine. Good luck busting down your own door!” You huff, as you turn on your heel towards your own apartment room door, fishing out the keys from your apron’s pocket.

“Sure. Thanks!” 

Just who does he think he is, that little-

You pause. Huh?

For a moment, you could feel a twinge of guilt settle in the pit of your stomach. 

Sure he was a jerk. No doubt about it. But, your conscience nagged you a little more about considering his side of the story. 

It was bad enough he’s soaking wet and not even able to get inside to change into dry clothes. He could catch a cold and, in the end, still get into huge trouble with the landlady. 

If you were being honest with yourself, the old landlady wasn’t as much of a saint either. She was quite bitter towards others when she wanted to be (which was everyday when someone even breathed the same air as she did). 

You sighed.

An idiot. That’s what he was.

Biting down on your lip, you reluctantly turn back to see your troubled neighbor once again prepare to bulldoze his door.

You watch as he readies himself to once again to kick it down. 

“Wait!”

A frustrated groan leaves his lips as he snaps his head back to you, only to find you knelt down in front of his door, two hairpins stuck in between the lock as you tinker with the small pieces of metal.

Hanma blinks owlishly a few times.

That was quick.

Oddly enough, Hanma finds himself standing beside you, leaning against the wall while watching carefully as you work.

____________________________________

It doesn't take long until you hear a familiar click of the door unlocking.

You quickly stand up, while picking up the wet plastic bag that had been forgotten long ago.

You peek at the contents, taking notice of the four cans of beer and bag of cheese curls.

The sudden bitter smell of nicotine and the puff of smoke invades your senses.

“I believe that's mine,” he interrupts, gently taking the bag from your hands. He walks inside his room, stopping midway through the door frame, while turning back to you.

“By the way,” he pauses, taking another drag of the cancer stick that was nestled between his parted lips, “What’s ya name?”

For a moment, you blanked at the question. 

“[f/n]. [f/n] [l/n].”

He smiles.

“Thanks for the help, doll~”

You let an exasperated sigh.

“You ask for my name, yet you still use such a corny nickname for me? You’re infuriating.”

He shrugs. “I only asked cus’ I was curious. Get used to it.”

You frown. “Jerk...” you mutter.

You pipe up at the sound of a snort followed by a deep chuckle emitted from the male.

I help him and this is how I’m treated? The nerve!

Silently cursing your conscience once more, your thoughts are interrupted.  

“Nice to meet ya, [f/n]. I’ll see ya around, yeah?”

You absentmindedly nodded.

But, before you could muster a question of your own, he shuts the door without another word.

Now, there you were, standing in front of your neighbor’s half-beaten door, completely stunned.

You shake your head.

You make your way inside your own room while closing the door behind you. Slipping off your shoes and hanging your keys, you silently trudge your way over to the old record player where you would faithfully play Mozart all night long. 

After washing up and settling yourself in your bed, you lay awake as you replay the events of tonight with your troubling neighbor in your mind.

You chuckled to yourself. How silly. 

Sighing, you look out the window of your apartment with a content smile resting on your face.

Deep down, you hoped to see the neighboring delinquent more often. Hopefully, not in an odd situation as what you experienced tonight.

____________________________________________

TR Boys x Bullied! Reader

Genre: Hurt to comfort

Characters: Mikey, Draken, Mitsuya, and Baji

Warnings: cursing, bullying, insults, self-harm, mentions of blood

Reader is Gender Neutral

Request

A/N: heyyy luv! I apologize for the long wait of getting to your request. I hope you like it!

Mikey

“Hey! There they are!” one of the bullies said. The leader of the group waltzes up to you with a devious smirk plastered on her face. “Well, well, well,” he says looking you up and down in disdain, “if it isn’t the school’s freak!” she giggles as the rest of the group follows suit. “They’re always all alone, it’s no wonder why they don’t go out,” one of them chimed. Tears began to well in your eyes as the bullies continued their onslaught of insults spewed towards you. You try to push past them in hopes of trying to get out of the situation, only to be yanked by your backpack and thrown to the floor. Gritting your teeth, you reach out to get your backpack, only to have a foot stomp on your hand. You yelp, quick to retract your hand and look up at the scornful face of the girl. “How pathetic,” she spits, eyeing your crouched form on the ground, “I can’t believe Mikey is actually dating a freak like you.” Her words pierced your heart at the mention of your beloved boyfriend. “I bet he’s just doing it out of pity,” she jeers. “That’s not true!” you shout, your voice trembling as you try to defend the little dignity you had left, “he wouldn’t do that!” “Is that so?” she sneers, “No one would date a weirdo like you unless they were crazy!” That was the last thing she said before walking away with the rest of the group, leaving you full of tears and a sore hand. As you gathered your belongings, doubts began to rush through your mind as the bully’s words replayed in your head. Did he really date me out of pity? Am I that dull for someone like Mikey? When it was the end of the day, you walked past the school gates and was greeted by a familiar warm smile and the sound of a revving CB250T bike. “Hey babe! How was-” Mikey was cut off when he saw your bandaged hand and your tear streaked face. You greet him with a small nod, eyes averting his questioning ones as you silently mount his bike while mumbling, “Can we just go please?” He doesn’t press you as to what happened, only obeying your request to leave, thinking it would be best to talk to you when the both of you were alone. When he feels your arms around his waist, he speeds off onto the streets of tokyo. When you reach Musashi shrine, Mikey parks his bike and is quick to get off so he could help you off as well. But instead of taking his hand, you get off yourself while walking past him to the steps of the shrine without a word. He froze for a moment at your sudden coldness toward him, but he was quick to grab  shoulder to stop you. “What the hell happened?” he asked, his seriousness was gentle as he spoke. You shook your head, “I don’t want to talk about it.” “You don’t have much of a choice y/n,” he turns you around, forcing you to meet his stern gaze. Finally, after holding back your tears and heartache, you broke down, gripping Mikey’s shirt as you gave in to him. Slowly, he wraps his arms around your waist while listening to your sobs. When you're done letting everything out, Mikey sits you down on the steps of the shrine with him and gently coaxes you into telling him what had happened. When you do tell him, he stays silent while giving you his full attention, not bothering to ask questions, but just to listen to what you had to say. When you're finished, there’s nothing but a heavy silence between you two until he finally says, “Is that all?” you nod timidly, looking down to the ground as you fidget with your hands. Mikey takes your hands in his own, “Do you wanna know the reason why I’m dating you?” You sniff, using your sleeve to wipe your eyes, “Why?” you croak. He gently cupped your cheek, “Because being around you gives me so much peace of mind. It’s like…the sun shines so much brighter when I’m with you,” he says, his soft voice matching with the strokes of his thumb against your tear-stained cheek. “y/n, don’t listen to what those people have to say because no matter what I’ll always love you.” “Introvert tendencies and all?” you whisper, hopeful eyes searching for his own. He chuckles, “Introvert tendencies and all,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

    Draken

“Hey, y/n?” you stopped skipping and turned on your heel to face your boyfriend. “Yes, ken?” “Is-” he pauses, eyes softening at your questioning stare, “is there anything you need to tell me?” he breathes out, shoving his hands in his pockets. Your heart skips a beat, and your ears begin to ring. You were thankful to have such a caring, attentive boyfriend who could sense if something was wrong, but at the same time you cursed at how quick he could pick up on your mood, since you were never the type to take confrontation so easily. “Hmmm, no. Why do you ask?” He walks up to you, frowning slightly as he knits his brows together, studying your features before prying further. “Nothing happened at school?” he questions, watching as you chew on your lip, looking away from him, “Anyone bothering you?” His questions hang heavy on your shoulders as you try to think of a way to change the subject, but nothing comes to mind. At the moment, you basically chewed your lip off raw, tortuous images flashing across your mind as you remembered what your rude, rival classmate had said to you before leaving school with Draken. “C’mon, be for real y/n. A guy like him wouldn’t date someone who can barely handle being around people. You’d just be a burden around him!” fresh tears began to streak down your cheeks as the few sentences settled at the pit in your stomach. “y/n?” Draken takes hold of your face, eyes concerned as he watches you slowly breakdown. “Ken…,” you whimper, sniffling as you choke out words between sobs, “Do you really love me?” Draken’s frown deepens as he listens to your small whimpers. Seeing you in tears broke his heart, and the worst of it all, someone made his poor angel cry. “What kind of question is that?” he wipes your tears with the pads of his thumbs, sighing as he cradles your body into a warm embrace, “Of course I love you. More than you know,” he whispers, gently running a calloused hand through your hair.

           Mitsuya

It has been twenty minutes since Mitsuya has sat you down across from him, but to you it feels like a lifetime has passed by. He’s been eyeing you down, not in a bad way, but in the “you’re hiding something from me and I need to know '' kind of way. Meanwhile, you’ve been chewing on your lip and fidgeting with your fingers behind your back to the point where your hands began to cramp. It was as if you were a child about to get scolded by their mother for something they did. And knowing your motherly-natured boyfriend, the two of you would be sitting there for hours until you finally tell him what’s been bugging you. He knew your weakness and as much as you hated to admit it, you’d have to say something to him sooner, otherwise you’d surely die from the awkward tension. “Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong or do I have to force it out of you like this?” He asks. You grimaced at the thought, your fidgeting quickly escalating to itching your covered wrists as you slightly draw blood from your bruised lips. Tasting the bitter taste of chopper, you swallow thickly as you struggle to face Mitsuya’s prying gaze. “ Nothings wrong,” You mumbled, wincing slightly as you felt the sting from the scratch marks left on your hands. The last thing you wanted was to burden him with your problems at school and have him confront the people responsible for bothering you. You hated confrontation. Just like what he was doing right now. “Something is wrong,” he whispers to himself, taking your hidden hands into his own, glaring at the self-made marks on your delicate hands. “When you’re nervous or scared, you fidget with your hands, even if it hurts you,” he voices. “y/n, who’s picking on you?” he grunts, eyes focused on your scratch-covered hands and wrists as he gently runs his hands over them. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. Why was he so perfect? Why did he have to be such a caring person? How did you catch his eye? All questions were answered with a kiss on your hands and a kind smile being gifted to your teary-eyed gaze. “Don’t cry. I’ll make sure they don’t bother you anymore.” He leans over you, pressing feathery kisses to the salty drops that fall from your eyes. “You knew?” He hums, pulling away to caress your damp cheek. “I always knew. Draken told me. But, I knew you didn’t want me to get involved because you wanted to handle it on your own,” he says, “but when it was getting out of hand, I couldn’t help but ask you about it.” You could feel your heart clench at his truthful words and his concerns. “Mitsuya, I-” “Don’t apologize,” he grins, silencing you with a sweet kiss to your lips, “it's good that you want to handle confrontation on your own. But start out small, like asking your boyfriend for help,” he teases, earning a small smile from you. “Ok.” Smiling himself, he kisses you once more. 

         Baji

“Baji-san!” Chifuyu calls from down the hallway. Baji sighs, turning around to face his concerned friend. “Chifuyu, what the fuck did you do now? It’s my lunch-” “I think something bad is happening to y/n-san,” he gasps, hunching over to catch his breath after running up god knows how many stairs. At the mention of his s/o, Baji is quick to question him, forgetting all about eating his yakisoba lunch. “What happened?” His voice is dark and cold, his whole aura changing in a split second as he imagines all the things he’d do to the people who’d dare even think about hurting his s/o. It’s one thing to mess with a member of his division, let alone a friend of his, but by god Baji would give someone a one way ticket to hell if he heard someone harmed his s/o. Noticing the change in Baji’s tone, the vice division captain straightens up, realizing Baji wasn’t taking any shit at the moment. “I heard a group of y/n-san’s classmates hurting her. I think…I think they’ve been bullying her.” “Where,” he growls, fists balling at his sides as he does his best not to lose his temper. When he finds out everything, all hell breaks loose. His ears were ringing, his blood boiling, his mind going blank with rage as he made his way to your classroom. When he gets inside, he sees you cornered at the back of the classroom with three guys surrounding you. “Are you seriously dating the Baji Keisuke? The first division captain of Toman? What a joke!” one sneers, towering over you with a menacing glare. “A guy like him doesn’t date weak nuisances like you,” another spat. You don’t say anything, too scared to fight back against their insults and dirty looks.“Hey…,” the one in the middle growls, taking a closer step toward you as he reaches out and grips the collar of your shirt, “we’re talking to you. You think you’re all tough, huh?!” he raises his hand, bringing down to your face. Preparing what’s to come you turn your head away, waiting for the pain to bear down on you once more, but instead, nothing comes. Screams and cries of pain filled your ears. The grip on your shirt was loosened. Peaking an eye out, you see all three bullies beaten and bloodied, while a familiar long-haired boy stands in front of you, eyes flashing red with cooling rage with bruised knuckles dabbled in blood. “B-baji?” you squeak, swallowing thickly as your long-haired lover turns to face your shaking form. He’s quick to tower over you, expressionless as he locks his jaw. Before you could blink, you end up in a bone-crushing hug as he mumbles a spew of apologies and scoldings your way. “Jesus, thank god you’re alright. I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me something? What would’ve happened if Chifuyu didn’t tell me you were getting bullied? Would you have let them try to hit you again?” While Baji was caught in his worries, you couldn’t help the smile curling on your lips as you listened to the fearsome member of Toman turn soft in your presence. However, you couldn’t fight the guilt punching you in your stomach. “Sorry Kei, I just…didn’t want you to think I was weak. I-I wanted to handle things sooner but-,” when you try to meet his gaze, he pushes your head into his chest, muffling your words. “Don’t say dumb shit like that, idiot,” he mutters, his grip on you growing tighter, “if you need help then ask. Don’t be a dumbass like Chifuyu. Besides, I’m your boyfriend. It’s my job to protect you. So let me do my damn job.” he sighs, nuzzling his cheek against your hair. “O-ok, but um…Baji?” “Hm?” “Could you, maybe loosen up a bit? I can’t breathe,” you groan, taking in a breath of air as Baji loosens his hold on you. “Ah~gomen babe,” he says sheepishly, a small blush tinting his cheeks. Giggling, you peck his cheek, “Of course, Keisuke.”

Tagged: @hakkai-anon

forget-me-nots

Based on request here

Genre: Angst, Angst and no comfort

Bonten Sanzu x Traitor!Reader

Warnings: Mentions/suggestions of drugs, mentions/suggestions of usage of drugs, suggestions/mentions of death, mentions/suggestions of blood, injury, cursing, trauma, scars, reader dies, torture, weapons, angst

Sanzu sighs, walking over to your quivering form on the bloody floor of your apartment. How pathetic. “Now Doll~” he hums, crouching to meet you at your eye-level, bloody katana in hand, “you know the rules. So there’s no point in cryin’ now.'' 

True. You did know. You knew what would happen the moment you even thought about betraying Bonten. About betraying Mikey, and the consequences that would follow after doing so.

Slowly, the tip of the blade grazes your arms, now burning and stinging. The pungent odor of copper and flesh fills your once, comforting home, a smell that was absolutely intoxicating to the crazed man in front of you. You were too weak to try to fight back anymore. Your body was growing numb and losing feeling. Everything around you was slowly becoming nothing but a blur and it was getting harder to stay awake for much longer. 

“S-sanzu,” you whimper, “please,” you hiccup, “I didn’t have a choice…they were gonna hurt you,” you whimpered, fresh drops of salty tears running down your cracked face and into your bleeding cuts. 

He scoffs, “You idiot. You still don’t get it?” 

His once amused and bright, blue eyes instantly turn as cold as ice as he casts a contorted look of disgust and disappointment, “It doesn’t matter what happens to me…or to anyone else. All that matters is the king. I thought I had made that clear to you when you first started working for me.” he sighs, pushing off his knees to stand on his feet. 

“That’s right…,” you murmur to yourself, slumping against the floor as you give in to the fatigue washing over you, “I did break the rules, I betrayed Mikey, I put the whole organization at risk and that makes me a liability. But, for the most part, it was certainly worth my life.”

Your eyes were void of its usual glint of life and your body grew completely numb and cold. You rest your head against the hardened wall, now staring up at the last person’s face you’ll ever see. “I’m glad that I met you, you know.” 

Sanzu quirks a brow, “You're on the verge of dying and yet you have the nerve to say you were glad to have met me? I’m gonna kill you soon.”

You chuckle, shaking your head, “I’d rather it be you than anyone else.” 

Despite his cold words and his familiar unreadable poker face, you could tell that something was holding him back from killing you. Or maybe you were just hoping he’d take pity on you. Either way, you were content with what was to come.

You turned your head to watch the pendulum of the wooden clock stored in the small corner of your apartment. You close your eyes, honing in the sound of the miniscule tics counting down the last few moments of your life. 

Dying with regrets was way worse than dying itself.

The grim sound of midnight struck, and finally, it was time. You slightly peek an eye out, fluttering your half-lidded eyes as you watch Sanzu put on his black leather gloves. 

“Any last words?” His voice was unusually soft, almost calm. It was as if he was getting ready to say goodbye. 

You grinned, “That’s awfully generous of you.” 

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

Your boss was never one to go back on his word. Even if he was about to kill someone. He was honest, and surprisingly, quite fair. 

You couldn’t help but feel pity for him. How lonely he must be.

“Please take better care of yourself in the future and remember to water the flowers,” you smiled up at him one last time, “and if you ever want to talk…just remember I’m always here.”

And that was all.

The little twisted voice laughed and shouted in his head, mocking I told you so! 

 He knew it was going to happen eventually. He always knew that at some point, he’d be forced to end your life, just like the rest of the traitors murdered by his hand.

High or not, Sanzu could sniff a rat a mile away. That’s what he was good at. What he was trained to do. What he was made for. And, like all the other poor souls that thought they could get away with such treachery, you had met your gruesome demise by his hands. But, despite your actions, he still held a sincerity towards you, even after he had murdered you. Sanzu sighs, throwing his head back against the leather headrest of his office chair. 

It’s been a day since your death. Most of the executives of Bonten knew what had happened, but didn’t care much, seeing how Sanzu had gone through more than just a few of his assistants. Everyone just went about their day as usual. Business was business. 

Yet, the pink-haired man seemed more distant than usual, which wasn’t missed by his boss.

“Sanzu pay attention.” Mikey’s hardened voice warned. 

No matter what he did, his mind was constantly occupied by you.

The things you would do on a normal day, the conversations he had with you on break, even the small things about you, he remembers it all.

And it was fucking bugging him.

 His head was pounding at the thought of you. The dead traitor he justifiably murdered in order to preserve the existence of Bonten.

He runs his hands down his face, scooting up to his desk to finish the rest of the paperwork he needed to finish. Picking up some papers, he squints to read some of the fine prints, only to slam them back down on the dark wooden surface. 

What the fuck is wrong with me?

He glances at the left side of his workspace, studying the small flower pot of tiny blue and yellow flowers. 

“Don’t forget to water the flowers.” 

That’s right. You had given him those flowers not too long ago. You were so happy when you did, as if you had poured your heart into the gift itself.

He stares at it, as if it were you staring right back at him with that same bright smile of yours. 

Sanzu’s fists were balled up until his knuckles showed white, his jaw locked as he glared at the pot. He gets up, grabbing the flowers and chucking them across his office. 

I need to forget. 

He seats himself back in his chair before hastily digging for the drugs he had kept stored in his office drawer. His hands were shaking before even sniffing the damn stuff. 

Why was he shaking? He didn’t know. All he wanted was to forget everything. Forget what he did. Forget you.

He’s quick to dump the powdery contents on his desk, not caring about wasting it. Separating a good amount into four thin lines, he quickly inhales each line, one by one, ignoring the burning fumes of his nose as he finishes most of the contents. 

Soon, the familiar rush of adrenaline and the blurriness of his surroundings are present to his now disoriented senses. His mind was groggy, his heartbeat drumming in his ears as he slowly fell unconscious, succumbing to the peaceful darkness of his clouded mind. 

I need to forget. 

Leaning back into his chair, he relaxes, letting all the tension melt away as his eyes flutter shut, letting the drugs take effect, letting his mind wander back to the past. The past with you, that is.

The first day you had been assigned to him, he thought he’d be through with you in less than a week. But, boy, was he wrong. You were different from the rest of the female workers in Bonten. You didn’t care for money, or fame, or power. Hell, you didn’t even care for sex nor spending time with the other Bonten members. 

But, the one thing you did care about was him. 

Every morning you would bring Sanzu his usual bitter hazelnut brewed cup of coffee while greeting him with a sickly sweet smile, and in turn, he would return it with the edges of his diamond shaped scarred lips upturned into a small toothy grin followed by his cheesy earl morning greeting, “mornin’ doll~”. It took him a while to warm up to, but you certainly grew on him. Just a bit.

What was more puzzling to him, was your caring and kind nature towards him, despite the knowledge of what he did and the things he’s done.

Whenever he was high out of his mind and curled up on his office chair, you’d always be there to watch over him and do any remaining reports he had long forgotten after seeking solace in the various substances he would carry around in his suit pockets. 

Or when he would argue with the Haitani brothers, you’d always take his side, even if he was wrong or just spouting nonsense. Deep down, Sanzu could tell that you had a knack for reading people. For reading him. After all, you were around him most of the time, especially when he would mumble random shit when he was high and asleep. 

When he was hurt after coming back from his usual hazardous missions, you were always waiting for him in his office late at night with a first aid kit in hand to patch him up. 

When he spent his restless nights drinking his soul away in an old bar, you would sit with him until he passed out cold so you could take him back to your place to sober up. 

It was almost ironic how both of you acted so similar, yet so different. It was like you had your own sixth sense that was built into you just so you could take care of the troubled man you’d grown to be fond of. Just like how he had his own to protect Mikey at all costs.

“Why the hell are you around me all the damn time? I don’t pay you to be my caretaker.” he huffs, glaring at you from across from him as you stitch up a cut he had earned not too long ago. 

You giggled at his usual gruff behavior, “I thought it was obvious haru,” you grin, the nickname music to the wounded man’s ears as he fights back a smile, forcing out a frown of displeasure. 

“I wouldn’t be asking if I knew. And quite calling me that. It’s ‘boss’ to you.” you smiled.

“All right, I’m done!” getting up, you place the medical kit back to where it belongs in the office.

Sanzu groans as he gets up, his body aching all over. Rolling his neck, he turns around, meeting your bright e/c shining eyes.

He narrows his eyes, “What?”

You hummed, “I have something for you.”

“And?” he asks, folding his arms.

You grinned, presenting a small brown garden pot, with small, bright blue flowers. You walk towards the tall man, gently taking his hands one by one to hold the pot. “They’re called ‘forget-me-nots’. I heard they bring luck and protection, so I thought I would stop by the flower shop to buy you some.”

He nods absentmindedly, “You certainly did your homework on a bunch of useless plants.” 

Your smile slowly faded, dejected at his words. 

“But you’ve missed a couple things.”

You pipe up at his sudden interest, eyes blinking owlishly, “I…did?”

He hums, holding the pot higher to get a better look at the flowers, “It isn’t just a symbol for protection and luck, it also symbolizes true love. The plant has a story of origin, you know.”

Sanzu waltzes over to his desk, gently placing the pot on the corner of his desk and leaning against the opposite side of it.

 “The origin of these flowers were based in Germany. The whole name itself was German. The fable behind them starts off  with a couple walking near the Danube River and they had came across these bright blue flowers. The man goes to get the flowers for the woman, but in doing so, the flowers were dropped and swept away by the river and in the end tells her that he should never forget him, which is how the flowers got the name ‘forget-me-nots.’ ”

He smirks at your shocked and slightly flushed expression. “I see…then, perhaps I made the wrong choice in flowers?”

“Not at all. I think it conveys quite a message.”  he muses. His gaze continues to hold your own. 

“I don’t suppose you happen to try to express more than just concern for my safety?” he asked.

You cleared your throat. “As a matter of fact, you're right.” 

“And?”

You sigh, cheeks growing warmer as you look to the ground. “I love you Sanzu.” 

He already knew that, but he just wanted to hear you say it. He hums pushing off the desk, walking over to where you stood. He brings a hand to tilt your head up to meet his gaze, “That’s quite the statement doll.” He leans over, lips hovering over your own, “Do you wanna know why I keep you around?” 

“Why?”

He grins, “It’s cuz’ I love you too.” 

Sanzu’s eyes are blown wide, his grip tightening on his chair as he gasps for hair. He was covered in cold sweat. His hair was disheveled, and his hands were trembling. 

Why can’t I forget? 

He knew why. God he wished he didn’t, but he knew.

It’s because, for the first time in his life, he had truly loved someone who loved him back, and because of him he wouldn’t be able to take your love back anymore. He wouldn’t be able to take back what he did.

 “Sanzu?” you whispered, your honied voice catching the attention of the pink-haired man.

“What is it?” he sighs, not paying you any attention as he squints to read what was on the packet of documents he was looking over.

You smiled, “Don’t forget me.” 

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “What?” 

“I promise to never forget you, so promise me the same, ok?” 

He looked up, staring for a brief moment in bewilderment, before pulling over his cold exterior.

“You mind if I talk with you later doll? Kinda busy right now,” he says gruffly, turning back to the documents scattered across his desk. You chuckled, bowing before exiting his office. 

Glancing back to the pot of flowers on his desk, he says “I promise, I’ll never forget you.”

The Night of Color and Wishes

Hey guys! It's been a while, but I hope you all are doing well! Go check out my new chapter of The Delinquent Next Door called "The Night of Color and Wishes"!

After the sudden bomb-drop of a confession, Hanma continues to lead y/n down the fluorescent town of Kabukicho to a...shrine??? What once was a night out in town soon became a night of reflection and secret wishes, will love ignite between the two?

Preview:

"It doesn't have to have meaning, it can be anything. Don't think about the impacts it will have or whether it will come true or not."

"Then what's the whole point in wishing at all?" I asked out loud in thought.

"There is none, and that's what makes it fun. It's the mystery behind it. Will it come true? Or is it all for naught?"

You glance at him, this time skeptically, with raised brows, in which he responds with a childish giggle.

"You'll never know unless you try!" he encouraged with his one-of-a-kind bright smile.

You sighed in defeat as you picked up your pen and flipped over the paper on its other side.

Hanma quickly shifts and turns to the opposite side so as to not face you.

You scoffed, "It's not that serious Shu'."

"Shu?" he asks.

Heat rises to your face like a boiling pot of water.

"I-I mean–"

"I like it." he cuts off, a hint of genuinity laced in his playful tone. "And it is that serious, now write it down before you forget the wish."

"Don't rush me!" you scowl, gently poking his back with your pen, which he playfully howls in response.

Closing your eyes, you clear your mind from any and all thoughts. You stay like that for a while until you finally open them and write down the first thing that pops to mind. Once your done, you quickly set your pen aside and hurriedly plaster your piece of paper on the same side of the shrine next Hanma's piece.

You let out a quivering breath, as if your life had just been put on the line. Maybe it has in a way. You wouldn't know unless the future revealed it at some point.

"You ready?" Hanma asks from behind.

You turn around and smile.

Once the both of you had sealed your wishes with thanks, both of you made it down the shrine hand in hand.

When the both of you made it to the bottom, you tugged Hanma's hand, prompting him to stop.

"Hm? What is it?" he asked.

To be continued...

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Wattpad: authorluvgxbby

Story: The Delinquent Next Door