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"I don't have time to deal with some nobody," the dark-haired youth grumbled, his expression sour as he glanced over at the person assigned to tutor him. Takemichi raised his left brow, is this the one he’s gonna tutor? One look and he knew this was going to be a headache.
"I don't care who you think you are, Mr. Three-in-One Palmolive endorser, I’m here to tutor your brainles ass" Takemichi came the sharp retort, delivered with a sassy smirk. The response didn't please him, Takemichi could see it in his expression. A boy who wears his emotions on his sleeves then. But there was something in the way the other held his ground that intrigued him—a mix of annoyance and fascination in his eyes.
"Watch your tongue," he snapped back, trying to assert authority, but the person opposite him remained unfazed. To him, Baji seemed like one of those entitled rich kids he'd tutored before for money, but there was something different about him and them—the blond boy didn’t tutor him for money, but was forced.
As the top student in his class and the student president, he often found himself paired with the least enthusiastic students for tutoring sessions. With an exasperated eye-roll, Takemichi dropped the stack of papers in front of the lounging boy, signaling the start of their session.
"You better watch your mouth, or I'll use this pen for more than just writing," Takemichi threatened, pointing it squarely at Baji. His response was a dismissive huff. Despite harboring a faint desire to improve academically, he had long since given up himself to mediocrity.
He would, I mean he could have easily ditched the male, but he wouldn't dare; disappointing his mother was not an option for Baji. Making her proud, even without medals and certificates, drove him to at least strive for that diploma.
Just like that, he and Baji would meet up from time to time for the tutoring session. Initially, Takemichi and Baji started out like oil and water—constantly bickering and tossing insults like hand grenades, but somehow it all worked out in the end.
Lately, though, something didn't sit right with Takemichi about Baji. He stared at his boyfriend, who had been acting strangely for months. Takemichi of course knew he was in a gang, the boy used to flaunt it around like a damn olympic achievement. But this level of secrecy and quiet was new. From elementary school enemies to inseparable partners, Takemichi’s relationship with Baji was anything but ordinary.
"Are you cheating on me?" He bluntly asked, his arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe. Baji's eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of shock and offense flickering across his face. Why would Takemichi even ask such a thing?
"What? No way!" Baji’s denial was swift and vehement, staring at his boyfriend as if he had gone crazy, well to be exact he thought one of Takemichi’s braincell popped.
"Then why are you sneaking out this late? I know you’re in a gang and you guys have tendencies to hold meetings almost midnight, but for God's sake, Kei!! It's two in the morning, almost three at that!" Takemichi shouted at him, pointing at the clock on the wall.
“I’m just tending some business,” Baji replied vaguely, deflecting Takemichi’s concern. His nonchalant response only fueled his frustration. "Business to tend or a woman to tend?" He scoffed, unable to contain his irritation as he turned away from the noirette and stormed out of the room.
Deep down, Takemichi knew Baji wouldn't cheat on him. His mother's wrath alone would be enough to deter him from such foolishness, her chancla would descend on him like the hammer of Thor if he did. But still, the blond couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. He’d accused his boyfriend partly to coax the truth out of him. Despite his tough exterior, The raven haired male was a soft-hearted fool—a wild one, sure, but one who understood how to respect and treat a woman.
As Takemichi paced the hallway, his mind raced with worry. He had overheard snippets about Kazutora's return and his vengeful intentions from a glasses kid and a lanky looking guy. Baji's recent behavior fit into the puzzle, but the pieces didn't quite add up.
"He better not be keeping secrets from me," Takemichi muttered under his breath, frustration simmering beneath the surface. Of course Takemichi knew about the long haired male’s past. Baji had hesitated to share his past with him long before, afraid that revealing his actions might lead Takemichi to judge him harshly or even leave him.
Yet despite his fears, he chose to confide in his boyfriend. When he saw Takemichi’s understanding and support, he felt a sense of relief and gratitude for having opened up.
After that, Baji would always come to Takemichi whenever he needed someone to lean on and listen to him yap about serious and unhinged things. Thinking deeply, he didn’t notice Baji's hurried footsteps echoing down the hallway. He practically launched himself into the male, catching him off guard.
"What shit are you on now?" Takemichi snapped, more out of concern than anger, though frustration still lingered. "I'm not cheating I swear!!" Baji's voice was urgent, pleading for his boyfriend to believe him.
"You swear?" He shot back, a touch of sass in his tone, testing Baji’s resolve.
"I swear on my mama, Mitchy!!" Baji's arms wrapped around Takemichi in a desperate hug. He gently pushed Baji back, fixing him with a steady gaze full of worry. "I know you too well, Kei. Tell me the truth," he urged, his voice tinged with concern.
"I..." He hesitated, biting his lip. Baji knew he couldn't hide his odd behavior forever from Takemichi. He was far from naive; in fact, Takemichi was the sharpest and smartest person he'd ever known. After all, he is his boyfriend.
"Kazutora got out of Juvie not long ago, he wanted revenge and I joined him," he confessed, his voice tinged with a mix of regret and determination. Baji trusted Takemichi deeply, knowing he was the only one who could understand his complicated loyalty to his old friend. When the two of them first met, he found Takemichi annoyingly brilliant, like an Einstein in the making. But soon, beneath his sharp wit and academic prowess, he discovered a fierce, unpredictable spirit that intrigued him—a sharp-tongued boy with layers Baji couldn't resist.
Baji had been scared of Takemichi at first, though he'd never admit it. That time he beat down men twice his size, because Baji came home black and blue? It scared the hell out of him. After that, he vowed to steer clear of anything that might leave him bruised—but sometimes, that's easier said than done.
These days, the blond has grown accustomed to it all. No longer does he transform into a hulk when he's injured, though the male still worries incessantly—a fact that makes Baji feel guilty. Like his mama, Baji hates causing his boyfriend concern or missing dinner with him. Even though he'd never admit it, he'd choose Takemichi’s cooking over yakisoba any day, despite his lack of culinary skills.
"Kei, I know you care about both of them deeply, but this isn't something you can fix by taking sides. You can't force a victim to forgive, baby. Manjiro can accept, but forgiveness might be a long road for him; the scars from that accident run deep.
Manjiro needs time to come to terms with what happened, just like Kazutora did. I understand you want to help, but taking sides won't solve anything. Remember how Kazutora felt when he thought everyone had moved on without him? Now Manjiro feels that same sense of betrayal. It's about giving them space to heal on their own terms, even if it takes a while. They're your friends, and I know you want the best for them. Sometimes, that means letting them navigate their feelings without interference."
Takemichi said gently, hoping his words would resonate with Baji amidst the complicated emotions swirling between his friends.
"But I—" Baji hesitated, struggling to find the words to express his inner turmoil. He knew his boyfriend was right, but he felt trapped between loyalty to his friends and the weight of their escalating conflict. What was he supposed to do when both Kazutora and Manjiro seemed determined to tear each other apart? He didn't want to lose either of them. They were more than friends; they were his family.
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration and helplessness written across his face. "I don't know what to do," he finally admitted, his voice tinged with resignation. "It's like no matter what I try, I'm just making things worse. Kazutora wants revenge, and Manjiro can't forgive him. I feel like I'm stuck in the middle of a war I can't stop."
"Shush, come here, you're not leaving tonight. We've been together since elementary, Kei. I know you wish things could go back to how they were, but we have to face reality. Healing isn't easy, especially when there's so much pain and history involved. Manjiro and Kazutora have deep wounds that won't heal overnight. They need time to process and come to terms with everything that's happened."
Takemichi paused, gently stroking Baji's hair as he continued, "You can't force forgiveness, Kei. It has to come from a genuine place. What they need from you now is understanding and patience. Show them that you care, but don't pressure them into reconciling. Sometimes, just being there for them, supporting them through their individual journeys, is the best thing you can do."
Baji looked up at Takemichi, his eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. "But what if they never forgive each other?" he asked quietly.
The male sighed softly, his own heart heavy with empathy. "Like I said, healing takes time, there’s no wound, that time can't heal. Both Manjiro and Kazutora need that time. It might take years or even decades, who knows? But I believe everything will work out. They just need a little nudge to start communicating.
Manjiro doesn't have to forgive, but he can learn to accept, and Kazutora doesn't need to forget, but he can move forward. They can move on from their past hatred and start anew. So, baby, don't push them to forgive. Forgiveness takes time, just like healing. Now come on, your boyfriend demands attention," Takemichi said, wrapping his arms around Baji with a reassuring smile.
Baji stared at him, wide-eyed with shock. It was the first time his MItchy had spoken to him in such a way, with such clarity and wisdom. Baji felt a wave of gratitude wash over him for having opened up to his boyfriend once again. Embracing the male back, Baji nodded slowly, absorbing his boyfriend’s words. "I just wish they could see past their anger," he murmured, his gaze distant as he wrestled with his emotions. "I want them to understand each other like they used to. I want us to be like we were before."
He squeezed the noirette’s arm gently, trying to offer him some comfort. "Change takes time," Takemichi reminded him gently. "All they need is a little space and time to heal. With patience and understanding, I’m sure they'll find a way to come back together."
"You're right," Baji said slowly, processing his words. "They don't need to be okay like before. We can start anew, find a different way forward." He looked at Takemichi with newfound clarity, understanding that healing and reconciliation wouldn't happen overnight, but they could begin.
Takemichi smiled softly, sensing the weight lifting from his shoulders. "Exactly," he affirmed, his voice calm and reassuring. "Sometimes, starting fresh is the best way to mend things.".
Baji looked at the male gratefully, his eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and lingering uncertainty. "Thanks, Mitchy," he said quietly, using the nickname that was reserved only for him. "I needed to hear that, I needed your perspective." Takemichi smiled, leaning in to wrap his arms around Baji. "Anytime, Kei," he whispered, holding him close.
"You're the best, Mitchy. You should be a psychiatrist," Baji chuckled softly, leaning into the male’s embrace. He found comfort in these moments, relishing the chance to be vulnerable and cared for, knowing his boyfriend will always be there and care for him.
"Yeah, I should become a psychiatrist. Now pay up, that was 30 minutes so that'll be 30 kisses, please," he teased, giggling as Baji peppered his face with butterfly kisses.
A whole week had passed since then, and Baji would often come to Takemichi, ranting or just visibly breaking down. Despite being just a teen, he was grappling with the strained dynamics between his two maniac friends, both seemingly allergic to communication.
As a civilian and outsider to their circle, Takemichi understood his boundaries; he couldn't intervene directly in their personal issues. Still, he offered Baji a listening ear, suggestions, and comforting words whenever he needed them. After all, as his boyfriend, he knew the importance of being there for Baji during these turbulent times.
Right now, he was far from home, in the middle of a gang fight that seemed light years away from the cozy moments with your boyfriend. How did it come to this?
It started innocently enough. Takemichi noticed Baji acting strangely—more attentive, even planning a study date, which was unusual for him. Curious but respectful of his privacy, he decided not to follow him. Instead, he thought he’d surprise him with the lunch he forgot. Little did Takemichi know, this simple act would land him smack dab in the middle of a gang showdown.
Dodging punches and kicks, Takemichi relied on his past as a gymnast and some martial arts training from his demanding Asian mom. The irony wasn't lost on him; a civilian like himself, thrust into gang warfare because of a forgotten lunchbox.
In the midst of the chaos, he could see his boyfriend, Baji fiercely battling the rival gang members.The adrenaline pumped through his veins as he fought, knowing that his skills were a mix of necessity and upbringing.
Dodging fists and bending to evade kicks, Takemichi swiftly lifted his left leg and aimed a kick at the guy in white's head. Not many knew, or rather, not many knew Takemichi was once a gymnast and had learned martial arts—a testament to his Asian mom's high expectations that he excel in everything. The pressure had been intense, but it had its benefits, especially in moments like this.
Evading and handling these wannabes was fairly straightforward for Takemichi, until a burly man entered the fray. Unlike the typical street fighters who relied on brute force, he seemed more strategic, likely an executive of the white team judging by his distinct attire. It caught his eye—the subtle differences in his design marked him out among the crowd, noticeable only to someone attuned to such details, like him and perhaps those who wore similar attire.
Weaving through the chaos, Takemichi sized up the burly man as he closed in, his movements calculated and precise. Anticipating his next move, he raised his right arm to shield himself from the latter’s punch, but he feinted, aiming to catch him off guard.
Reacting swiftly, he ducked under his swing just in time, relying on his instincts and years of martial arts training to read his intentions through subtle shifts in his posture.
"My turn, stray cat," he taunted with a smirk, seizing the opening. Swift as lightning, Takemichi launched an uppercut, aiming for his jaw. Despite not being the largest fighter, his technique and speed compensated—each strike packed with precision and force honed from countless hours of practice. The impact landed solidly, eliciting a grunt of surprise from your opponent as his head snapped back.
The fight continued around him, the din of the fight echoing through the parking lot. Takemichi sidestepped another attacker's wild swing, countering with a quick jab to the ribs. Adrenaline surged as he danced between opponents, every move calculated to exploit weaknesses and openings. Each opponent brought a different challenge, but his training and experience allowed him to anticipate their moves with a dancer's grace and a fighter's ferocity.
As the fight intensified, the blond kept his focus, eyes scanning for openings amidst the chaos. A burst of energy surged through him, fueled by determination and the need to protect himself in this unexpected brawl.
"You're not taking me down that easily," Takemichi muttered under his breath, sweat beading on his brow as he lunged into the fray once more, ready to face whatever challenges the brawl threw his way.
The others soon noticed Takemichi’s presence, a slight figure amidst the chaos, holding a sakura bento while clad in pajamas. It was an odd sight, but one that commanded attention.
"Come at me if you want your tooth fairy to pay you a visit tonight!" He shouted, a maniacal grin stretching across his face, revealing a hint of playful aggression. Takemichi’s fangs were on display, a shared trait with his boyfriend. Both of them had a ferocious edge, like rabid dogs, but whereas Baji had a bark, Takemichi’s bite had a lethal potential that could dispatch opponents in an instant.
“He’s hot and cute at the same time, I wonder if he’s single.” A manly man with dual colored locks whistled, watching a certain blond fight like he was gracefully dancing amidst the chaos of the brawl.
Being short, agile, and flexible, he proved elusive, dodging blows effortlessly. Even if they managed to land a punch, it barely phased Takemichi or maybe it's just the adrenaline.
"I miss this feeling!" He exclaimed with a crazed grin, his eyes gleaming with adrenaline. Punching someone square in the nose, the male heard the sickening crack echo in his ears. The sight of blood on his hands felt as familiar as the paints he used back home, and the metallic tang and desperate cries filled the air like the scent and rhythm of his favorite book and most listened-to song.
"He-help!! He's a monster!!" One of the males that surrounded him ran away with a horrified face, but Takemichi quickly seized him by the hair and dragged him back.
Thank you for the compliment," he sneered, "but you ain't going anywhere. I'll beat you up until you look like that chopped pork of your mother's in the refrigerator."
Takemichi bashed the guy’s head with the other guy he held by the neck, using each one as a makeshift shield. "So it was you guys who stole my boyfriend's time and messed with my homemade bento!" he yelled, fury fueling your strikes.
With a swift knee to the stomach and a sharp elbow to the jaw, the blond boy sent one staggering back. The adrenaline surged as he dodged another swing, countering with a fierce uppercut that landed square on a jaw, snapping his head back.
The chaos around him swirled into a blur of fists and kicks, but his focus was sharp. Ducking under a wild punch, he spun around, driving his heel into the knee of an oncoming attacker, sending him crashing to the ground with a pained cry. Sweat dripped down Takemichi’s brow as he continued to fend off the onslaught, every move calculated to maximize impact and minimize risk.
A brief pause in the onslaught allowed him to catch his breath, surveying the scene with a mix of adrenaline-fueled determination and frustration. "Had enough yet?" Takemichi taunted, eyeing the remaining opponents warily. They hesitated, unsure how to deal with the small, agile figure who seemed to dance through their ranks with deadly precision.
One of them lunged forward, but Takemichi sidestepped gracefully, grabbing his arm and flipping him over his shoulder with practiced ease. Another attempted a sneak attack from behind, but he sensed the movement and spun around, catching his wrist mid-swing and using his own momentum to slam him into the nearest wall.
The fight continued with ferocity, each blow echoing through the parking lot. "Stay down!" Takemichi growled, delivering a swift series of punches that left his assailant reeling. Despite the chaos, a part of him relished the adrenaline rush, the thrill of combat mixing with the primal satisfaction of defending what mattered to him.
As the last opponent staggered back, Takemichi took a moment to assess the aftermath. Breathing heavily, he wiped a trickle of blood from his lip, the taste metallic on his tongue. "Don't mess with my bento," he muttered under his breath, adrenaline beginning to ebb as the reality of the fight settled in. “I almost burned down the house making it and you guys ended up messing it, fuck.”
It has been so long since Takemichi had stopped fighting, Baji's worry for his safety was visible in moments like these. He feared not just the physical dangers but also the legal consequences if things went too far. "I'd rather you burn down the house than end up behind bars," he had joked once, his concern clear.
In the chaos, Takemichi moved with the agility of someone trained in gymnastics and martial arts. Dodging a wild swing, he spun around and landed a solid kick to the chin of an approaching adversary. He staggered back, clutching his jaw in pain.
With adrenaline pumping, the male used the momentum to flip backwards and landed in a defensive stance. Around him, the brawl continued with shouts and clashes.
Baji was occupied with his own challenges, unaware of his boyfriend’s presence in the brawl. He dealt with rivals intent on causing trouble, while nearby,Takemichi handled himself against another group.
As he landed from his flip, the goldilocks boy scanned the scene, planning his next move. The sounds of grunts and curses mixed with breaking glass filled the air, adding to the tension.
In the midst of the chaotic fight, Takemichi felt in control, effortlessly dodging and countering the amateur moves of his opponents. They were no match for his quick reflexes and the skills he’d honed over years of practice. Brawn and brain? Takemichi got it all.
As he was grappling with another fighter, completely focused, a sudden impact struck him hard from behind. It took a moment for the pain to register; adrenaline kept most of it at bay. The sound of the impact echoed loudly, momentarily silencing the other brawlers as they turned to see what had happened. Takemichi found himself in the thick of it, wearing his pajamas now stained with his own blood. The adrenaline coursing through his veins dulled the pain temporarily, but Takemichi knew it would hit hard once the rush wore off.
Feeling the warmth of blood seeping through his clothes, the boy with the clearest sky-colored orbs gritted his teeth against the throbbing ache spreading from the impact. The clang of the bat hitting him reverberated in his ears. Stumbling forward, Takemichi’s head stung with a sharp, spreading ache. Blood trickled down his face, creating an image of someone from a horror scene.
Dazed for just a moment, with a deep breath, Takemichi quickly regained his balance and turned to face your attacker. Ignoring the ache spreading across his head. The assailant's eyes widened with surprise atTakemichi’s resilience. Despite the pain, he stood ready to defend himself, there’s no way Takemichi will let himself die in this pathetic parking lot. He didn’t even marry Baji yet and had ten cats as children.
A certain guy with obsidian hair saw red. How dare they…
"How dare you touch my man!!"
Baji shouted, launching himself at the guy who hit Takemichi with the bat. It was kind of hot, hearing him call Takemichi his, without any shame, especially with so many people around. He tackled the guy to the ground, throwing punches with a fury Takemichi had never seen before. “No one touches him and gets away with it!” Baji shouted.
Baji's rage was palpable as he continued to pummel the guy who hit his boyfriend. The other gang members hesitated, unsure if they should intervene. Takemichi could feel the adrenaline still pumping through his veins, dulling the pain from the bat strike, but he knew it was going to hurt like hell later. Baji stomped at the guy's head for what felt like the tenth time when Takemichi finally grabbed his arm, signaling him to stop. He turned to him, his face a mixture of worry and anger.
“Kei, stop! You’ll kill him!” Takemichi yelled, struggling to stand up, the world spinning slightly from the impact. Baji paused, breathing heavily, and looked over at him with wild eyes. Seeing his Mitchy struggle, he snapped back to reality and rushed to his side, his face etched with worry.
“Looks like he got himself quite the knight. What a shame.” The spectator with circled glasses rim, stated with a hint of loss. “They aren’t married yet, we can still have him, little brother.” The eldest of the two replied, watching as the long raven haired fussed about the well-being of his boyfriend.
"What do you think you are doing here, you dumbass?! This place is not for you!" He scolded, but his hands were gentle as they touched Takemichi’s bleeding head, trying to assess the damage. Quickly, Baji pressed a handkerchief to Takemichi’s bleeding head to stop the bleeding.
“I brought you your lunch. You forgot it,” The male managed to say with a weak smile, holding up the now slightly squashed bento box. Baji shook his head in disbelief, a mix of frustration and affection in his eyes. With a sigh, he shook his head. Takemichi always had a way of making his heart stop with worry and then beat faster like no one else.
“You’re insane, you know that?” he muttered, pulling him into a tight hug. “Stay close to me. I don’t want you getting hurt again.”
With Baji by his side, Takemichi felt safer. "Stay close to me. If I have the biggest count, you'll wash the dishes for the entire month, and vice versa," Baji suggested with a grin, starting to punch everyone in his way. There was no point in stopping his boyfriend now. He knew the boy with the bluest eyes was stronger than him, and he is proud of it, but Takemichi couldn't guard himself against everyone. But worry not, he’ll punch the hell out of anyone who tries to get to you.
The couple both moved through the crowd like a well-oiled machine, covering each other’s backs and taking down opponents left and right. Baji’s punches were fierce and relentless, while Takemichi’s agility and precision kept him one step ahead of the attacks coming his way.
"Eight down!" Takemichi called out, sidestepping a wild swing and delivering a swift kick to his attacker’s midsection.
"Ten!" Baji shouted back, grinning as he sent another opponent crashing to the ground.
The fight was chaotic, but having Baji by Takemichi’s side made it feel almost manageable. The two of them created a protective bubble around each other, working seamlessly to keep the other safe. Every time the blond felt a pang of pain or fatigue, he would glance at Baji and find the strength to keep going.
"Fifteen!" He yelled, feeling a surge of adrenaline as Takemichi knocked out another thug.
"Seventeen!" Baji responded, clearly enjoying the competition despite the circumstances.
Just as Takemichi was about to take on another opponent, he noticed Baji taking a hit to his side. Without thinking, Takemcihi jumped in, landing a solid punch to the attacker’s jaw and sending him sprawling.
Baji looked at his boyfriend, a mix of pride and concern in his eyes. "Now that’s hot," he muttered, giving the male a smirk before turning back to the fight.
Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, the last of the gang members either fled or were lying on the ground, groaning in pain. Takemichi and Baji stood back-to-back, catching his breath and surveying the scene.
The two twin dragons who only knew the existence of Baji’s boyfriend and their gay and bi awakening stared at the two with baffled expressions. "Fuck, now I get why God paired them both," Draken said, shivering as he watched the couple bash the enemy's heads and knock out teeth like it was completely normal.
Mitsuya chuckled beside him, sweat dripping down his face. "Looks like we have a power couple here, huh?"
"More like a couple of rabid dogs with deadly rabies," Draken chuckled, punching a Valhalla member who entered their bubble. Despite their supportive sentences, a part of them wanted Baji's position. What a hella lucky guy huh? Probably saved the whole world in his past life.
People stared at the couple with wide eyes. This was the first time they saw a Valhalla member fighting Toman while protecting a guy who was beating up Valhalla members. Love does crazy things, it seems.
At the end of the fight, Takemichi and Baji were both battered and bleeding, almost passing out from the injuries. Takemichi had a wound on his head, almost bleeding to death and was losing blood fast, but he didn't regret a thing. Kazutora was almost dragged back to juvie, because of stabbing Baji, but Mikey managed to pull him out of the scene in the nick of time.
The aftermath was intense. Thanks to Takemichi's intervention, the two friends finally communicated. They talked, they argued, and they cried. It wasn't perfect, but it was a start. Healing and acceptance would take time, but Takemichi and Baji had hope. Takemchi did it all for Baji, and seeing him a bit more at peace made it worth it.
"Hey, fancy seeing you here, huh?" Baji greeted his boyfriend who was bedridden beside him with a weak grin, his voice strained but filled with warmth.
"I totally won that bet," Takemichi replied, trying to sound triumphant despite the pain.
The other gang members shook their heads with disappointed looks, but deep down, they admired the couple’s resilience and dedication to each other. The couple almost died but didn't care at all. Oh well, at least all is good now. Same book, just different chapters.
“Is your boyfriend single, Baji?”