mature content ahead. please be aware some works may include sensitive material. reader discretion advised. any content labelled mature is for those who are 18+.

ultraman rising

kenji sato x reader

series

☆ Not a Hero, Just an Author (p.1)

☆ Not a Hero, Just an Author (p.2)

☆ Not a hero, Just an Author (p.3)

☆ Not a hero, Just an Author (p.4) coming soon

imagines

☆ Polar Opposites coming soon

☆ some random kenji thoughts

☆ College rival! Kenji Sato

stray kids

text fics

☆ neighbour! reader x skz (hyung line)

☆ neighbour! reader x skz (maknae line)

college rival! kenji sato who starts to put his hand up to answer questions. at first it was just one or two, but soon he’s sticking his hand up for every. single. one. questions you would usually answer. he’s almost never wrong but when he is you make sure to be the one to correct him. it quickly becomes a competition. in lectures. in classes. the other students start to notice, and word of the budding rivalry between the quiet scholarship student and freshman star of the baseball team spreads.

college rival! kenji sato who refuses to leave the library till you do. he’ll sit at a table, books spread out, laptop open, taking notes and making flash cards, until his vision blurs and his fingers cramp. but he won’t be the first to go. absolutely not. it won’t be till the last person has left that the librarian will scuttle round to tell you both to get lost. as you both leave you make a point to ignore each other, but he can feel you shooting daggers at his back.

college rival! kenji sato who nearly crushes his water bottle when he reads your article in the school newspaper. he’s surprised to see you write for the sports column and even more surprised to see you’ve named him. till he reads the flurry of insults and unflattering idioms. “more ego than man”, “bad team player”, “distracted”. of course he’s distracted ! you’ve been on his mind for weeks. constantly making jabs at him in class, sprinting to answer your professors questions first in lectures. he’s not been able to eat, to sleep, not without thinking about your stupid fucking smirk as you try to remind him that he, a college athlete, belongs at the bottom of the academia totem pole.

college rival! kenji sato who tries to ignore you when you turn up at one of his games. he doesn’t understand why you’re there, till he sees your friends join you. It’s weird he thinks, when you’re with them laughing and smiling you don’t actually look that bad. but then your eyes find his and that laughter, that warmth, is gone and kenji remembers that nope you are an insufferable bitch.

college rival! kenji sato who finds himself at the same stupid house party as you. he’s with a few of his teammates, it’s after the game. they won. they’re celebrating. most of them are red-faced, drooling drunk. he’s nursing a beer, can in hand, when he spots you from across the room. you’re leaning against the wall in what looks like a casual manner, till kenji takes a closer look. then he sees the guy, some dude from you shared AP physics class. Paul or Pete ?? Kenji doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. not when he sees the guy lean down to kiss you, just for you to try and push him away. He’s by your side before he has time to register what he’s doing.

college rival! kenji sato who not only knocks a guy out for his class rival, but bails on a night out. he offers to take you home and doesn’t say a word when he gives you his letterman jacket, after noticing you shivering. it’s warm and smells of polish and freshly cut grass. neither of you say a word, which is what makes it even more bizarre when you lean up to kiss him. you’re nowhere near your dorm, outside some random humanities building, but you can’t help it. for weeks you’ve been puzzling over why he bugs you so much, why his constant presence in classes and lectures, in your favourite study spots, sends your heart into a flurry. sometimes anger and attraction can feel very similar.

college rival! kenji sato who finds himself in your dorm room, your roommate nowhere to be found. He lets you push him back onto the bed, lets you be the one to tug his shirt off. it’s been weeks of constant battling for control and yet here he is giving up so easily. Kenji gives you the victory you’ve been looking for just to see the smile on your face.

he is NOT an early bird. kenji sato likes his lie ins. those mornings where he can spend an extra hour or two stretched across his bed. no morning practice to rush to. no fan event to be late for. nope. just him, his massive bed and peaceful sleep.

hates horror films. this man’s whole life is basically a horror movie. fighting against man eating, sky scraper tall monsters ?? why would he pay ten dollars for a movie ticket when he could just walk outside and experience that fear for free ?? or he could go through an old family photo album and experience the crushing terror of realising that by living one parents dream he lets down another…..

kenji sato does not share. this MAN CHILD is an only child. and his parents worshipped him as a kid. crayons, snacks, figures. it don’t matter if they’re kenji’s they are KENJI'S. would smack another child’s hand away if they dared to try and touch them. even as an adult he struggles to share stuff.

likes his women bossy. kenji likes a girl that can tell him what to do. he’s an egotistical smartass with plenty of wit and charm. he needs someone who can keep up, keep him in line.

was bullied at school in the states. i feel like the movie drops lots f hints that he struggled in the states. the stuff he said about kids teasing him for his food ??? his name ??? probs why he started going by Ken and he uses the word ''bro'' all the time. plus that ego ??? defo the result of a childhood spent as an outcast.

neighbour! reader x skz

living next door to arguably the most chaotic idol group around has its ups and downs. but hey at least life is never boring with them to bother you.

Jisung:

Felix:

Seungmin:

Jeongin:

neighbour! reader x skz

living next door to arguably the most chaotic idol group around has its ups and downs. but hey at least life is never boring with them to bother you.

Chan:

minho:

Changbin:

Hyunjin:

Not a Hero, Just an Author (p.3)

kenji sato x reader

Her latest novel a flop, Y/N is starting to worry she wasn’t meant to be an author. She’s 24, lives alone and most of her college friends are either married or in more traditional jobs. she feels like she’s being left behind. That is until a charming baseball player finds his way into her life and shows Y/N that it takes more than talent to be a star.

tagline: @aise-30 @spencerrxids @scarasw1f3 @m3lodyxo @no-lessthan3 @ladyaaliy

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Not even a week had gone by since you were last caught in an attack, and yet here you were. Frozen stiff. Surrounded by crowds of screaming fleeing people. Unable to look away from another beast that looked like it had been pulled from the deepest darkest nightmares.

It was massive. Scaled with eyes the colour of poison.

As if swatting flies, the dragon-like monster had knocked down two helicopters. They fell through the sky, weightless, hitting the ground in loud fiery explosions.

People had been in there. Pilots. Men and women. Was there anyway that theyd survived a fall from hundreds of feet in the air ?

Chaos had erupted around you.

People were pushing and shoving to get through the exits. The wails of small children filled the stadium. The little girl next to you, who’d stared at Kenji with wide adoring eyes, cheering and laughing, was now sobbing her eyes out, cradled in her mum's arms.

All the players had cleared the field. All but Kenji.

He was still there, stood by the home plate. Like you he was frozen still, eyes locked on the Kaiju as it flew over the stadium.

So often in life you felt small. you felt it at conventions, watching fans crowd around their favourite authors. somehow your table always seemed empty. You felt it at Q&As, when you’d only be asked maybe one or two questions and always about the same thing:

“what’s it like being a young author in the publishing industry ?”

You felt it in the streets, watching hundreds of people live their lives always seemingly with more conviction and direction than you.

But stood there, under the towering shadow of a beast, that must’ve crawled out of the deep bowels of hell, you realised for the first time what it felt like to be truly small.

an ant to a snake. a man to a god.

The last time this had happened, only a week ago, it had been your drive to save the old lady that had saved you. Seeing her, keeled over on the street, had pushed you into action. but here there wasn’t anybody to save. No. It was just you, alone, still and unable to look away as the beast opened its mouth and roared.

Orange lit up the sky. it bathed the darkness in a hellish light. flames licked up the sides of the stadium. they caught fire to treetops and burned them to ash.

If you stayed there would that be you too ? a pile of ash on the floor ?

Move damnnit. You could save the old lady but you couldn’t save yourself ? how did that work ? save a stranger but not yourself ? why?

did you maybe, somewhere deep down, not think you were worth saving…..

“You need to move !” Hands fell onto your shoulders, clutching so tight you could feel nails dig into your skin.

Something tugged at your right hand. Warmth slipped into your palm. Skin against skin. Then you felt yourself be pulled away, away from the pitch and towards the exits.

Only a few people were still scurrying to leave, and with ease Kenji dragged you out of the stadium, over the ticket barriers and into the car park.

It was chaos outside too. Sirens wailed in the distance. Some people had stayed, transfixed by the burning red sky. Others rushed to their cars, the squeal of tires grinding against tarmac making you wince.

Your chest heaved. Breaths came out in short sharp gasps. An iron taste filled your mouth, a burn punctured your lungs. Smoke was thick in the air. It burned your eyes and scratched the back of your throat.

“Y/N ! Y/N !” Kenji waved a hand in front of your eyes, calling out to you.

You blinked and realised he’d been talking to you. You watched his lips move, parting and closing so slowly. His voice sounded distant like he was screaming at you over a great distance. Everything felt slow. From the way he shook a hand in front of you face to the people running past you.

What was going on ?

“Y/N you need to take a deep breath.” Kenji turned you around, so you were facing with your back to the flames.

You couldn’t see the Kaiju anymore but you could hear it. It’s furious roars, the tremors of its steps. The earth shattering under a giants feet.

“Look at me,” Kenji demanded, “Y/N damnit look at me.”

Finally, you did. Your eyes drifted to his and only then did you realise that the Kenji Sato, a legend, an untouchable god, was scared. Something fragile settled in his dark blue eyes, giving them a glassy quality. The hand holding yours trembled. it was ever so slight but it was still there.

The Kenji Sato, scared just as shitless as you.

“How did you get here ?” His voice is firm but the shake in his hands, the look in his eyes, it betrays him.

When you speak it’s not you. It’s automatic. The noise is foreign to your ears.

“Car.” that’s all you can say.

Your mouth feels numb. Everything feels numb. If you ran would your legs even work ?

“Right,” this time you hear the panic in Kenji’s voice, “fuck you can’t drive. you can barely stand. fuck. fuck ! what am i gonna do ?”

He runs his free hand through his hair, tugging anxiously at the roots. The helmet he’d been wearing has long since been discarded, stranded on an empty pitch. a burning blackened pitch.

you want to reach out, to pull his hand from his hair, to tell him not to hurt himself. you want to do so much more. anything that would get rid of that terrified look in his eyes. it doesn’t look right, not on him, not on Kenji Sato.

“Please.” You’re just able to whisper, gently tugging his hand away from his hair.

Now both your hands are in his. Theyre warm. So warm. you can feel the hard edge of callouses, built up from years and years of throwing and batting and training. Along one finger you’re sure you feel the thin jutting line of a scar. you want to ask how he got it. you want to ask so many things.

were you about to die ?

your gazes are locked. despite the crowds fleeing, the sky burning and a monster stalking towards you, you both stand there.

For a moment you think he might kiss you. you realise you want him to. but instead you watch as something shifts in his eyes, a look of….resolution ? the fear is still there but now it’s diluted by something like determination but also resignation. as if he knows he has to do something but he really doesn’t want to.

You open your mouth to ask what’s wrong. But you don’t get the chance. Not when Kenji suddenly darts forwards and places a kiss on your forehead. it’s startlingly intimate, and even in your current situation you can’t fight the blush from your cheeks. It feels like the kind of the gesture a soldier makes to his lover before he goes off to war.

It’s so eerily similar and then you realise why.

Kenji Sato. baseball player. international heartthrob. a living legend.

......Ultraman.

He steps away from you and with your gazes locked, you watch as his body is engulfed in a ray of bright light. It's unearthly, the way it shoots out of seemingly nowhere, swallowing Kenji whole. It burns to look at but you cant look away. You're sure you hear yourself scream his name, feel the shape of it on your tongue.

There’s a rush of heat, of something electric and when you turn back Kenji is gone, in his place a being several metres tall, taller than the stadium, taller than skyscrapers.

Kenji Sato is Ultraman.

It doesn't register at first. It doesnt matter that you just saw Kenji be surrounded by a light that could only have appeared from something not of this world, to find Ultraman in his place. Your mind refuses to make the connection. It cant. Because eveyrhting would change. Something that had onyl just started, was meant to start today and it would be gone.....ruined.

A strangled gasp passes through your lips as you watch him turn and charge towards the Kaiju. They collide with a bang so loud you have to cover your ears. It takes all your strength not to fall to your knees.

Ken- Ultraman whichever, threw the first punch, bringing a fist into the Kaiju’s stomach. The beast roared, a pained cry that shook the ground. Kenji went for another hit, but he wasn't quick enough.

“Kenji !” You screamed as the Kaiju opened its mouth and engulfed him in fire.

Thankfully nobody else was around to hear you so carelessly scream out his identity. everybody else had the common sense to flee the scene. but you couldn’t. not when Kenji was there, a hundred meters tall, in red and white and silver.

Kenji. Kenji was Ultraman. Ultraman was Kenji.

How ? How was that possible ? How was any of this possible ?

“Ma’am you need to come with us.” A paramedic finds you, trembling among the smoke and flames, terrified as you watch the Kaiju wrestle Kenji to the ground.

“N-No !” You cry out, trying to resist as another paramedic comes up to you.

Together the pair drag you away from the scene. It doesn’t matter that you beg them, plead with them to let you stay. that you have to stay. They don’t care. they don’t listen.

Youre piled into an ambulance and can only watch through a window as kenji becomes smaller and smaller in the distance. eventually the fire becomes nothing but a candle flame in the distance and even the smell of smoke fades.

Perhaps from exhaustion or perhaps from sheer shock, whatever the reason, you find it hard to keep your eyes open. An unnatural heaviness settles over them and with every attempt at keeping them open they become even heavier.

When you fall into the darkness you see flames and smoke and amongst it all him. His navy eyes, his cloud white jersey.

“Kenji.”

When you awake it isn’t too fire and debris and pillars of smoke. The sterile smell is what hits you first. the scent of chlorine, of cleanliness and bleach. it’s bright. oh so bright. you wince as you blink, eyes slowly adjusting to the light.

There’s a pounding in your head like nothing you’ve ever felt. Worse than any hangover. the beeping of something robotic, a monitor maybe, in the background only amplifies the pain.

“Auntie !” A high pitched voice cries.

You grimace, a hand coming to your head as if cradling it will make the pain go away.

“Chiho this is a hospital. indoor voices.”

A hospital. You were in a hospital. But why ?

A small figure, no taller than knee height clambers up to your side. you peered down from the bed to see your niece's smiling face blinking back at you.

Chiho…..which meant Ami wasn’t far behind.

Speak of the devil. In through the doorway she came, her usually smooth hair frizzy and unkempt. She was wearing pyjamas, the set you got her for christmas two years ago. a coat was hazardously thrown on over top. And you realised after glancing at Chiho again, that she was also in her pyjamas. Had they just woken up ? What was going on ?

“Oh thank god you’re awake.” Ami cries, rushing to your side.

you startle when she flings her arms around you. It’s not like you guys weren’t close but she rarely showed this amount of affection. Ami was like that, headstrong, all business. Hugs from her were rare and savoured moments. she had the ability to make you feel like everything was going to be okay with just a hand on the shoulder.

“Ami,” you were startled at how hoarse you voice was, “what’s going on ?”

Her face paled. She quickly glanced at Chiho, who was distracted by a magazine left on one of the tables, before speaking.

“there was an….incident. A kaiju, it attacked the stadium. I-I didn’t know you were there. I would never have left-t I can’t believe i didn’t see you.” She’s close to tears as she speaks.

your big sister, the ice queen, nearly crying because of you.

“I’m sorry.” it’s all you can say.

This time you reach out to her and she settles into you like two halves of the same shape, of the same coin. Your big sister.

When, after several exams at your sisters insistence, you're finally discharged Ami refuses to let you go home. There’s no argument. She shoves you into the backseat, among piles of stuffed toys and picture books, even putting the seat belt on for you.

Your mum was at her house and when you came in it was Ami all over again. She wept, clinging to you, kissing your sore forehead, pushing you into a bed. Who’s you didn’t know. The three of them stood around you, like you’d disappear if they looked away even for a second. It was only after Chiho yawned that Ami relented and took her daughter to bed. Your mum though seemed to make her sleep perfectly comfortable in the chair by your bed.

When you asked if she intended to stay there all night she merely shrugged and told you to shut your eyes.

Who were you to argue ?

Sleep sounded so good. It was just a shame that even in your dreams all you could see was Kenji in his shining red and silver suit, towering over the world.

It wasn’t just that night Ami made you stay at her place. She kept making excuses.

“You might be concussed !”

“Umm okay then why did you let me sleep ?”

“….don’t talk back to your older sister.”

“I need someone to babysit Chiho.”

“Yah babysit me auntie ! We can play ultraman and Kaiju.”

You didn’t miss the way Ami glanced at you, her usually cool eyes soft, as if worried the mere sound of his name would send you bawling. She didn’t know, of course she didn’t. You hadn’t been able to say the words aloud let alone tell someone. But any mention of Kaiju or fires or Ultraman had sort of been prohibited.

She, your mum, they were worried. You weren't doing good before. Maybe they thought the smallest thing would be enough to push you over some imaginary edge. maybe they were right.

So you hunkered down in her house for a few days, allowing Chiho to braid your hair in a hundred different styles, or paint your face with makeup that definitely wasn't stolen from Ami's dresser. You chopped up vegetables while your mum roasted meat, listening to her rant about this or that. Just like Ami she was full of opinions and observations. You joked that’s where she got her natural born journalist instincts from.

You, for the first time in forever, let your family take care of you. it was nice. you’d forgotten what it felt like.

Of course you couldn’t hide from it forever. whether you liked it or not, the truth was there. Hiding behind doors, peeking out from the closet. A metaphorical boogie man.

Kenji Sato was Ultraman, and to save your life, to save the city he'd revealed this information to you.

You hadn't dared reach for your phone since that day. It was in your purse, sat atop Ami's dresser. Undoubtedly, it would be teeming with missed calls and messages from your editor Sana. Would Kenji have called you ? Texted you ?

You didn't even know if he was okay....

The last time you saw him, the Kaiju had him pinned to the ground, and you just left him there. Like a coward. You should've fought the paramedics harder. You should've stayed.

It was only once you knew everybody else was asleep that you slipped out of Ami's room that night. She was sleeping in Chiho's room, letting you take her big bed. As you crept down the hall you could hear her soft snoring, your mother's garbled words as she mumbled in her sleep. It wasn't till you reached the balcony, sliding the door quietly shut behind you that you let yourself breathe.

With shaking hands, you opened up your phone. It wasn't the 27 missed calls and texts from Sana that worried you.

''we need to talk.''

So he was alright. Tension eased from your shoulders. At least it was one worry put to bed. But now you had to face the fact that Kenji had let slip a secret that could shock a nation, maybe the world even. This was beyond anything you'd ever dealt with before.

You didn't know what to do, so you swiped on his contact and pressed call.

It rang. once, twice. your heart constricted in your chest.

''I was hoping you would call.'' He's there, same smooth voice, same teasing lilt to his words.

you aren't sure if you want to cry or scream.

''You're okay.'' Its all you can say.

He laughs, its a tired sound.

''Yeah, I'm okay,'' a pause and then, ''are you ?''

You look out onto the dark streets of Tokyo. in the distance the Tokyo tower peeks out, a bolt of red against the navy sky. Are you okay ? Your life, which was already tearing at the seams, had somehow taken a massive 180 in the last two weeks, and it had all started with him. him in that damn ramen shop, a baseball card and smile that made your heart float.

''Yeah, I....I'm okay.'' To tell the truth would be too hard, too long.

Even though you cant see him you know he's tired. you can hear it in his voice. he sounds like hes aged fifty years in just three days.

''Y/N...'' Why did he always have to say your name like that ?

''Yes ?''

You know where this is going, you both do. the question is who will admit it out loud first.

''I'm Ultraman.'' He says it clear, direct, voice exhausted.

its not how you imagined someone would admit to being a beloved hero, an icon of the city. he says it like its a burden, a mantle thrusted onto him without a choice. it makes your heart squeeze.

''I know Kenji,'' you suck in a deep breath, ''I'm not going to tell anyone. I promise.''

There's silence from his end. For a moment you think the call has disconnected, until finally you hear him sigh.

''Do you want to come over ?''

That's how, an hour later, you find yourself sat outside in your car, in front of a mansion that belongs inside the pages of Architectural Digest.

The front door slides open and Kenji, in flesh and blood, stands in front of you. He's alive, he's okay and when he sees you he smiles.

Not a Hero, Just an Author (p.2)

kenji sato x reader

Her latest novel a flop, Y/N is starting to worry she wasn’t meant to be an author. She’s 24, lives alone and most of her college friends are either married or in more traditional jobs. she feels like she’s being left behind. That is until a charming baseball player finds his way into her life and shows Y/N that it takes more than talent to be a star.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

At first the baseball card was left on your bedside table. But as you realised that night, after getting back from Mr. Ozami’s Ramen Shop, you couldn’t sleep with it so close to you. If you opened an eye you’d see it, sitting there atop the table. Then all thoughts of sleep evaded you. It was almost impossible not replay the events of the night over and over in you mind.

Kenji. His easy grin. The way his jacket hung just right off his shoulders.

so like any coward, you hid it. Pushed into a drawer crammed full of notebooks and stray pieces of paper. You left it there in your office, hidden within your desk and finally managed to sleep.

For two days the card sat in that drawer, hidden, out of sight out of mind.

Why an ordinary schmuck like you wasn’t jumping at the chance to call a legendary athlete like Kenji Sato you would never know. A million girls would kill to have his number and yet you….you couldn’t even bare to look at it.

But why ?

For those two days you did nothing but watch old reruns of his games. Ones of him in America, playing for the LA Dodgers, all dressed up in white and blue. He wore that same easy going smirk when he played too. Like he knew no matter what that he’d win.

Something in your keened for that kind of confidence. Most people would be jealous of Kenji for his wealth, his fame….his good looks. Not you. what you wanted was his confidence. how, when millions of people were watching him, did he look so carefree ?

Kenji was right. Maybe he’d just make a baseball fan out of you yet. When watching his reruns got boring you changed to interviews. They were always solo, usually him and some pretty female reporter.

A nasty green feeling curled up in your stomach as you watched the way he chuckled and smiled, tilting his head in an easy but flirty manner.

Arrogant asshole. Stupidly hot arrogant asshole.

On the second night your older sister called. she never rang your phone, always the landline. nobody ever used it and most of the time you forgot it was there until Ami rang for your weekly catch up.

She didn’t live far, only thirty minutes on the metro, but with her full time job as a reporter and status as a single mum she was usually busy. Of course you went over to help whenever you could, but lately you’d been avoiding her and therefore Chiho too.

You couldn’t admit to your powerhouse big sister, who had it all, that your book had been a flop. that you and Sana were desperately trying to secure a movie or tv show deal in hopes of recuperating your losses.

Yes a show or movie would put you on the map, give you the status of a serious author, but it would also mean some hollywood exec tearing your baby apart and turning it into some dark, sexy CW series.

Your heartwarming story of a boy’s struggles through adulthood, as he comes to terms with his new powers and what they mean, made into the next Riverdale. You’d rather die.

Oh the shame.

“Y/N you need to call back mum, she’s worried about you.” Immediately Ami is hounding you over the phone.

with a sigh you respond, “yes Ami, it’s nice to hear from you too.”

“we’re just worried about you. lately you’ve been so distant. we miss you. Chiho misses you, she keeps asking where her auntie is.” Her words cut straight to your heart.

A pang of guilt hits your stomach as you imagine Chiho’s sad wide eyes asking where you are. That was a dirty move on Ami’s side.

“Things are just…” you scramble for an excuse, “busy. yeah i’ve got some book stuff and…..and there’s this guy.”

wait what ? why the fuck did you say that ?

“a guy ?” your sister asked.

oh shit well no going back now.

“um yeah a guy. he’s nice ?” you almost sounded questioning.

there was a pause before Ami made a sound of excitement.

“That’s amazing Y/N ! i’m so happy for you. you’ve got to bring him over, mum would love to meet him. we all would.”

you knew that was code for “as your big sis i need to vet this guy and make sure he’s good enough for you”.

two minutes later and you found yourself promising to bring this mystery guy over soon along with returning your mums anxious calls.

“we love you Y/N, please don’t forget that.”

After she hung up you sat there for a minute. It was dark out and if not for the light from the TV the living room would’ve been submerged in complete darkness. Another interview was playing, an old one. Kenji couldn’t have been older than 20. A college graduate recruited to play baseball full time. He looked so happy, the kind of energy only young people have. when they’re still full of hope, before the world has smashed it into pieces.

once upon a time you looked like that. maybe in those weeks just after your first book deal. fresh out of university and the promise of bright career in writing.

As you watched him, you replayed the conversation with your sister over in your head. she’d sounded so worried. they both did, her and mum. something had to change. you needed to do something, anything to fix this funk you’d fallen into.

maybe that’s why you walked out of the living room and into your study.

The desk drawer slid open easily and inside the baseball card gleamed up at you. You reached in, picked it up and then grabbed your phone from your back pocket.

Ten digits later, your phone rang and after several seconds of intense silence there was a voice.

“Hey Kenji speaking.” It was him, really him. “umm hello ? if this is that guy from the gossip magazine then please f-“

“It’s the girl from the ramen shop, Mr. Ozami’s.” You quickly interrupt.

Kenji goes silent, the threat dying on his tongue.

“Oh.” Is all he says.

“Yeah.” you mumble in response.

Theres another awkward silence.

“So…” He starts

“So…” You repeat.

For an international heartthrob, Kenji Sato is surprinsgly not that smooth. Just like you he’s unsure of what to say, and for the first time the baseball icon seems a little human to you. it’s what gives you the confidence to speak first.

“I watched some of your games.” You try, unable to fight the heat rushing to your cheeks.

was that weird ? was admitting you’d watched him play weird ?

There’s a laugh over the phone that puts all your worries to rest.

“Really ? i thought you said you didn’t like baseball ?” He asks, amused.

“Oh i still don’t, but i wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” You respond boldly, almost flirty.

“And ?” He prompts.

from over the phone you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“And i thought you were pretty good.” You can’t help the smile that pulls at your mouth as he makes an unbecoming noise.

“pretty good ? i think you mean the best babe.”

oh. OH.

Suddenly the pyjamas you’re wearing felt too tight, too hot. you slipped off the couch and padded over to a window, opening it to let in a fresh night breeze.

“I-I mean,” you try to school your voice, “sure you’re good but the best ? that might be a stretch.”

Oh good lord why did you say that ? Why was your go to defence insults ?

“Well if you need some proof why don’t you come to a game ?” His proposition catches you completely off guard.

“a game ?” you’d never been to a baseball game.

how much were the tickets ? You weren’t exactly very liquid right now. yes the advance on your latest book had been quite a lot but with it not hitting its sale targets you’d had to make a few setbacks. no excessive shopping, no eating out - Mr. Ozami’s was an exception - no travelling. A baseball game sounded expensive. could you afford the tickets ?

“Yeah, i’ll send you a ticket,” and then cockily adds, “don’t worry i’ll make sure you have a good view.”

You breath out a small laugh. It was a tempting offer. A free ticket, the chance to experience something new and watch cute men run around a field in tight pants. What was not to like. Maybe this was what you needed to get you out of that funk.

“Okay,” you found yourself responding, “that would be nice. thank you.”

there’s a chuckle over the phone and like that you figure the call is coming to an end until Kenji adds:

“But on one condition.”

So close.

“What’s that ?” You try to sound normal.

“You let me take you out.”

three days later

The new Tokyo Stadium was a magnificent piece of architecture. it had only opened a few months ago but you’d yet to see it. with a book tour and signings and fan events you hadn’t had the time to walk around the city like you used to.

Dressed up in your nicest pair of jeans and a Giants jersey you’d bought just for this game, you joined the back of one of the ticket booth queues.

Kenji had sent you an E-ticket right after your call. since then whenever you went onto your phone you’d checked to see if it was still there. the sight of it was a confirmation that this was real. the Kenji Sato had not only given you his number, invited you to a game but had asked you out on a date. you turning up to this was basically confirmation that yes you wanted to go.

A date with Kenji Sato.

What was happening to your life.

Since that night you’d itched to call your sister, to tell her what was going on. But you couldn’t. Ami was so practical, she followed her head over her heart. if she found out she would tell you to drop it. that Kenji Sato was a known flirt who was scared of commitment and would leave you high and dry. He wasn’t the dating type. Not at least according to the hundreds of magazines and articles you’d spent the last few days reading.

it was all there. his long, slightly hazardous, dating history. models and musicians. beautiful women with no body fat and immaculate skin. the kinds of girls that you see online or in magazines. you couldn’t be further from them.

What on earth did Kenji Sato see in you ? A small time author with a minor online following and, according to one very cruel article in the Tokyo Post, a dying career.

Ami would tell you to quit while you’re ahead, before you’ve gone on a date with this guy and inevitably let him charm you into submission.

But Ami wasn’t here and you were in too deep now.

The lady at the ticket booth scanned your ticket and then you were in. it was unlike anything you’d ever seen. The stadium rippled with noise. hundreds of thousands of fans filled it, filing into seats, calling out for hot dogs and beers from the uriko girls.

like you many people wore Giants jerseys. Children and women and men. some had orange face paint strewn across their cheeks.

suddenly you felt less self conscious about the jersey you were wearing. nobody would glance at you and think you’d never been to a game before let alone not know a thing about the sport or rules.

it took you a while to find your seat. you walked further and further into the stadium, eyes scanning the rows for the letter A. it wasn’t till you were right at the front that you found it. to your surprise, your seat was just above the dugout, giving you a clear view of the home plate.

not only had Kenji Sato bought you a ticket, he’d bought you maybe one of the best seats in the whole place.

There was a buzz in your back pocket. you reached for your phone.

enjoy the show

Kenji.

As you stated at the message, biting back a grin, a sudden chorus of cheers shook the stadium. around you people had jumped to their feet, hoisting posters and foam fingers high into the air. the people next to you, a little girl and her mum, were jumping up and down in excitement. the little girl held a poster in her hands and with one quick glance you realised it was of Kenji.

You turned to look at the field and suddenly it made sense. There waltzing up to the home plate was the man himself.

Kenji Sato.

His white jersey gleamed in the midday sun. the number seven printed on the back in big block lettering. a baseball bat hung almost carelessly in his left hand. you were sure that under that helmet he was wearing the most obnoxious grin possible.

The Kenji Sato show was live.

As he strolled up to the home plate, he turned to wave at the crowds. what a showboater. it worked though. another round of cheers rippled through the crowds, so loud it almost made you wince. the little girl was nearly crying with excitement next to you.

You cheered along too, a little unsure of yourself. it wasn’t like you’d ever done this before. Then to your absolute horror, Kenji Sato glanced across the crowd until he locked eyes with you.

Had he been looking for you ?

He must have, because as soon as he saw you his grin grew even bigger. a look of absolute smugness. He gave you a once over, something unmistakable flashing across his face as he saw the jersey you were wearing. it had been a coincidence, you picking out the number seven jersey. Until now you hadn’t realised it was his jersey. did he think you’d done it on purpose ?

Oh my god he did.

There was a self assured smirk on his face as he gave you one last look before turning to batter up. An almost unnatural silence fell over the stadium. everyone waited with baited breath, about to witness for the first time Kenji Sato batting in the Japanese League.

The pitcher swung his arm back and the ball sailed through the air.

To your surprise and everybody else’s Kenji missed. The ball went square into the catcher’s mitt. You’d watched enough of his games to know Kenji rarely missed a ball. maybe it was nerves ? His first game on a new team, in a new country. anyone would be nervous. But then he missed the second time and from your seat you could catch the way his hand flew to his shoulder, as if in pain.

Then the catcher said something, what exactly you couldn’t hear. But judging by Kenji’s reaction it wasn’t anything good. You watched with wide eyes as the batter levelled up to the catcher, his bat almost held like a weapon. The pair were almost chest to chest until the umpire stepped in. there was a final heated exchange before Kenji returned to bat. Then to everyone’s surprise he swapped sides, changing to his right hand to bat.

A series of quiet murmurs, sceptical and surpised words, rippled through the crowds. Did this not happen often ? You weren’t entirely sure what was going on. But judging by the confused looks around you Kenji was about to do something unprecedented in baseball.

All you could do was watch as the pitcher made his final throw. the ball flew through the air. the silence had never been thicker, and then with a speed so intense you nearly missed it, Kenji swung the bat back. there was contact. an almost cracking sound and the ball was sent soaring into the opposite direction.

the crowd roared with approval. the noise shook the stadium and to your surprise you found yourself up on your feet cheering along with them.

“Go Kenji !” You cried, almost jumping up and down as he ran each base.

A victorious grin had broken out on his face, and as he returned to home base he glanced up at you. Suddenly you felt self conscious stood there, hands in the air your cheeks flushed. But then he winked at you and something electric and light and fluttering soared through your chest.

He was incredible.

And then the Kaiju appeared.

Not a Hero, Just an Author (p.1)

kenji sato x reader

Her latest novel a flop, Y/N is starting to worry she wasn’t meant to be an author. She’s 24, lives alone and most of her college friends are either married or in more traditional jobs. she feels like she’s being left behind. That is until a charming baseball player finds his way into her life and shows Y/N that it takes more than talent to be a star.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“-And we’re expecting light showers this afternoon with heights of 17 degrees celsius. So make sure to pack an umbrella. In other news, the Giants are about to welcome legendary Japanese baseb-“

The morning radio rambled quietly in your car, some light background music on your morning commute to work. Today you’d left too late, a delay caused by your alarm clock not going off on time, and now you were paying for it. The traffic jam was long. At this rate you were going to be late for work.

You sighed, drumming your fingers against the steering wheel impatiently. If you were even five minutes late your editor was going to kill you. this was a super important meeting, one Sana had been fighting for for months. It could make or break your career, taking you from a small time author to the real thing. An international bestseller. A book adapted into a screenplay. A movie. A show. World wide recognition. A dream come true.

You could feel that dream slipping away as the traffic in front of you crawled forwards.

There was a ding. Your phone. No doubt Sana asking about where the fuck you were. A cursory glance at your watch informed you had twenty minutes to get down town.

fuck.

Was your heart racing from the three cups of coffee you chugged this morning or the stress ?

Another ding. And then another. Oh my god.

It was wrong, perhaps even evil. something you’d never admit aloud. but a tiny part of your brain wished, just for a second, that a Kaiju would drop down from the sky and rid the streets of traffic.

A great scream tore through the air. It was unlike anything you’d ever heard before. Beyond animalistic. a noise only a monster could make. Horns began to blare ahead of you and as you strained your neck to look up you realised why.

“Be careful what you wish for…” You hissed to yourself, as a towering reptilian figure appeared ahead of you.

It was easily taller than the surrounding skyscrapers. The Kaiju resembled a lizard, a knock off version of Godzilla. It’s beady yellow eyes didn’t seem to blink and as the creature took a step the ground trembled. earthquake like ripples shook the earth, sending your cup of coffee teetering over in your car.

People had begun to panic. Pedestrians turned and ran in the opposite direction, not afraid of pushing each other out of the way. In your rear view mirror you watched as an office worker knocked an old lady over in his hurry. He didn’t bother to stop.

Now you’d never call yourself a hero. You weren’t particularly brave or even outgoing. Maybe that’s why you became an author. It was a great gig and one you got to do alone. So it came to a shock to you when you found yourself getting out of your car and rushing into the crowd.

People barrelled past you, mothers clinging to their children, workers evacuating buildings. even cats and dogs had taken to running for the hills. You did your best to push through them until you were there, standing over the old lady.

She was struggling to pick herself back up, her cane discarded to the side. Quickly, you grabbed it and with your free hand helped her up to her feet.

“Thank you my dear, you shouldn’t be putting yourself in danger.” She said her voice wobbling a little.

A quick glance down informed you that she’d been hurt. blood was trickling down her left leg. she needed medical attention.

“It’s okay, we need to find you hel-“ You began to say only to be interrupted by a thundering roar.

A ray of purple light shot only metres past you both. It hit a row of cars near you, each one vaporising into nothing but debris and ash. From where you were huddled you could feel the heat radiating off of it.

The old lady let out a scared scream and as you glanced up you realised why. The Kaiju’s snakelike eyes were trained exactly on you. You blinked as your body suddenly went numb. It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. To be under the glare of a creature so big, so terrifying. A primal instinct in you told you to run. to leave the old lady and turn and save yourself. But you didn’t. You stayed. Whether that was out of nobility or fear you didn’t know.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Not when in mere moments you would be dead. reduced to nothing but ash on the sidewalk. No big meeting, no movie deal. You’d die a small time author no one has ever heard of. Your parents. What would they think ? their only child dead. They wouldn’t even get to say goodbye.

goodbye mum. goodbye dad. I’m sorry.

There was nothing you could do but try to shield the old woman as the Kaiju opened its mouth and roared. There was a great flash of purple and heat. heat unlike anything you’d ever felt. and then nothing.

Moments passed and you realised you weren’t dead. Neither of you were. The attack hadn’t come. But how ?

A feeble glance informed you how.

Stood only mere feet away from you, shining in silver and red was Ultraman himself. The city’s hero returned after months of absence. He was here. He was back. He saved you.

“Ultraman.” You breathed, staring in wonder up at him as he used a shield to divert the attack.

It was almost beautiful. the way the purple ray clashed with the blueish shield creating a symphony of light and colour.

The attack stopped and his shield dropped. Before the Kaiju could move, he raced forwards and tackled the beast into the ground. the impact sent tremors through the earth, one’s that almost sent you and the old lady toppling over.

“Quickly, let’s find shelter.” You slung her arm over you and used this diversion to try and drag you both to safety.

Soon after the KDF arrived, and emergency services. A paramedic saw to the old lady, Mrs Tanaka, who repeated endless apologies to you. She held your hand in hers and said:

“my dear you saved my life. i can never repay you. i am forever in your debt.”

Then as you started to cry, overwhelmed by stress and sheer relief at still being alive, she brought you into a hug. it was warm and homey. it felt like you were a kid again. like everything would be alright.

When you did finally turn up at your editors, six hours late and covered in scratches and blood, some yours and some Mrs. Tanaka’s, Sana flung herself into your arms. Your boss bitch editor, the self proclaimed Ice Queen of publishing, bawled in your arms like a homesick baby. The meeting was pushed back till you felt better and she demanded you take a few days to rest and de stress.

By the time you got home you were a shaking mess of nerves, trauma and exhaustion. if not for the blood and dirt you would’ve flung yourself on your bed and promptly passed out. But a shower was sorely needed and after the shower you realised how hungry you were. Saving an old lady’s life hadn’t left a lot of time for lunch.

There was a ramen shop below your apartment. a nice cosy spot run by a sweet old man who’d gone out of his way to actually read your book, after you’d finally told him you were an author. you’d been a regular there since you moved into your apartment a year ago. A nice warm bowl of ramen might just be the thing you needed.

In sweats and glasses you padded out of your apartment and down the stairs.

It was only nine thirty and the streets of tokyo were very much alive. People shuffled up and down the streets. groups of giggling university students, no doubt on their way to a bar or club. Oh to be young. Office workers were only just now leaving work, slumping down the streets like zombies. Their briefcases hanging limply in hand.

You shuffled into Mr Ozami’s ramen shop to be greeted with the savoury smell of veggies and meat. It was fairly quiet, a lull between the dinner crowd and night walkers. The booth in the back, your favourite spot, was free. Mr. Ozami didn’t even give you a menu, he nodded from behind the counter and went to whip up your usual.

It was nice. the pair of you exchanged barely any words but had somehow forged an unlikely friendship. right now it was just what you needed. quiet company and a warm meal.

Prompt as always, Mr. Ozami slid a bowl in front of you, popping a pair of chopsticks down. He nodded again and like that returned to his spot behind the counter. He knew you’d leave the exact amount of change for the meal after. Never a tip. you’d tried the first time you came and he’d immediately handed it back.

It was perfect. down to the last minute detail. Warm broth flowed into your stomach and slowly your nerves began to fade. an ease settled over you. tonight you’d sleep well. despite the absolutely harrowing day, you’d sleep well.

Or so you thought, until a stranger walked into the shop.

at first you didn’t notice. your whole face was almost in your bowl of ramen, too fixated on slurping noodles to realise someone else was in the shop. Maybe that’s why you were so startled to notice a guy standing by the counter, examining a menu in hand. Or maybe it was because the longer you stared the more you realised he looked familiar.

Too familiar.

And that’s when it hit you.

Tall, lean and dark haired. the man in front of you was Kenji Sato. New addition to the Giants and legendary baseball player.

Holy shit.

He looked up not giving you any time to wipe the broth off of for your face. a noodle hung limply from your mouth. for the second time today you were shocked still. The moments of eye contact were unbearable. His eyes flickered over you and you could see in his mind he was weighing you up.

Of all the days to be wearing sweats and slippers.

Thankfully he must’ve registered you as disgusting because he glanced away and back at the menu. With his eyes off you, you were free to slurp the noodle up and wipe the broth from your mouth, while trying to ignore the gentle stab in your gut.

Of course a superstar like Kenji Sato wouldn’t find you attractive. He wasn’t just a stupidly talented athlete, he was also good looking enough to be a model. in fact he did model. you’d seen the giant billboards with his face on, the flying blimps with him eating food or drinking something. not to mention in one fashion magazine there’d been this pic of him half naked with fake tattoos a-

No that was enough. stop it. today had been hard enough and you came here to relax. this person, because at the end of the day Kenji Sato was a person just like you, would not ruin that for you. You needed to sleep tonight. You needed to stay calm.

“Hey I saw you staring so i thought you might want this.” And there goes staying calm.

Kenji Sato was stood in front of your booth, looking like sin itself in his varsity jacket and sunglasses, holding out a signed baseball card to you.

For the third fucking time you froze. seriously it was becoming a problem. clearly you could only take action when it came to saving little old ladies. but anything else ?? nope not happening.

“Here then, i’ll just leave it on your table.” He half chuckled, sliding the card next to your bowl.

It wasn’t till he turned away that your brain finally started to work and your stupid mouth opened.

“O-oh uh thanks. that’s very nice of you but maybe you should save it for someone else ?” oh my god. what the hell were you saying.

Kenji paused and half turned to face you. one of his eyebrows was raised.

“It’s just,” you quickly tried to save yourself, “i’m not the biggest baseball fan and there’s probably a fan out there who’s really like it.”

nope yep you made it worse. why were you telling like the best player in japan, maybe the whole world, that you didn’t like his sport ?? Did you hit your head today and just forget ? It had to be the exhaustion talking, it had to be.

Amazingly, Kenji didn’t balk at your words. Rather the corners of his mouth twisted into an amused smile. He considered you for a moment and maybe he would’ve said something in response, if Mr. Ozami hadn’t come over with a take out box.

“Here.” He said plainly, handing the box to Kenji.

Kenji took it with a thank you, maybe a little perplexed at Mr. Ozami’s blunt way of speaking. he had been in the states almost his whole life. They probably did things differently over there.

“So um yeah…here you go ?” you held the card out to him, trying not to blush in embarrassment at your awkwardness.

everything that had come out of your mouth since he walked in felt stupid. it was like you were a completely different person. Why were you acting like this ?

Kenji glanced between you and the card. His amused smile never faded.

“You know what,” he grinned, “keep it. might just make a baseball fan out of you yet.”

He gave you one last look and it took everything in you to not turn bright red under his gaze, before turning and walking out of the shop.

It wasn’t till many minutes later that you glanced away from the doorway where he’d disappeared through. The card in your hands was shiny, a small laminated rectangle.

There he was, bat in hand, dark eyes shining, a self assured smile on his face. at the bottom was his signature scribbled in dark ink.

you flipped it over, expecting to find nothing but a blank white space. what you saw sent your heart into a cacophony of thumps. the blush you’d been holding back spilled over. every part of you felt red and hot and horribly unnerved.

scrawled across it in lazy handwriting were the digits:

+81 3 1234-5678