༺𝙴𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚊༻

"where ya goin'? class just ended, sweetie."

"i can't stay," you said quickly, heeled boots clicking rapidly against the floor. you'd dress so cute that—polka-dot glasses, a pink off-the-shoulder sweater, black skirt, and knee-high boots that really captured the prime look of a college girl! and it was being wasted because this motherfucker was ogling you. "i have to go back to my dorm."

"why? need an escort?"

"no, i know the way."

"well, someone might hassle you."

"somebody already is hassling me."

"huh?" that made naoya pause—but only momentarily. once he realized what you meant, he fell back into step behind you, seeming even more determined than before. "got some bite on you. i like that. lot of women don't know when they should play it easy or hard to get—you do."

you hated when guys couldn't just take no for an answer the first time. because that meant you had to use the next excuse up your sleeve—

"my boyfriend wouldn't like that you're following me. i really can't stay and talk, and i'd like it if you would kindly leave me alone."

you said it as curtly and politely as you could, then, before the surprised naoya could reboot and say anything else, you bolted through the doors of the humanities hall and out into the spring day.

campus was lively in the afternoon. there was ultimate frisbee and football being played, groups of friends on picnic blankets talking and tanning, girls swirling their boba and iced coffee as they commuted from classes and dorms—and there was ryomen's and a handful of his frat sitting on benches in the quad, lounging after smoking.

well, choso and geto were still slightly buzzed. toji hadn't taken a pass, and it took more than a few puffs to get to ryomen.

"oh my god, i can't feel my tongue," choso muttered, rubbing his eyes. his black mullet was shaggy, messed up, and he smelled like he'd been waterboarded in geto's cologne to cover up the post-smell of weed.

geto, sitting wide and strumming his guitar absently, grinned lazily. "you're too easy, man. second-hand molly in the wind would get you fucked."

"nuh-uh."

"uh-huh."

"shut the fuck up," toji muttered, waving his hand dismissively as he rubbed his face with the other. "i still have a goddamn headache."

"not our fault you hit your head on a fucking table last night," ryomen laughed.

toji groaned, turning his head to look off into the distance. the activity on campus only worsened his pulsing skull. "swear to god, 'm concussed or something. shouldn't have on that chair when i was drunk."

"you should've came." choso tapped ryomen's knee. "where were you?"

"with his giiiirrrllll," geto teased.

"yeah, yeah." ryomen didn't care if everyone in all of fucking tokyo knew he was whipped—he was whipped for you, his sweet little girlfriend. "not my fault i wanna spend one night of the weekend watchin' pretty woman again instead of watching toji crack his head open."

like he was summoned by his name, toji started shaking ryomen's shoulder. "dude."

"one sec—" ryomen was about to say something else to choso, but toji wrenched his arm to the side. "what the fuck! what?"

"look where i'm fuckin' looking." toji pointed across the quad. "isn't that—"

"holy shit," geto said when he saw you briskly walking and crying, like you were trying to escape someone—you had been.

choso frowned when he followed everyone's line of sight. "is that your girlfriend? why is she crying?"

"i... gotta go." ryomen got up from the bench without another word and started across the quad. when he realized how fast you were walking, he thanked god that he was an athlete and started running after you. "hey!"

when you hear a male voice, you automatically moved quicker, expecting it to be naoya again—but then it repeated, and you recognized ryomen.

"baby? hey, slow the hell down!"

fuck. you didn't want him to see you crying. think, think, think—

but it was too late. ryomen had reached you, grabbed you by the shoulder, and turned you around in an instant. "shit, thought i was going to lose you. what's—"

you couldn't held but sob even harder when he began to ask you what was wrong, and ryomen gaped at your puffy, round face, smudged mascara, and the salty streams of tears down your cheeks.

"oh god, angel. what's wrong? c'mere, can i hold you?"

as expected, since he had the biggest soft spot and change of attitude when he was with you, ryomen engulfed you in the comforting embrace of his arms and let you bury your face and ruined makeup against his racing jacket.

"ok, ok," he whispered softly against your hair as he stroked it. "deep breaths. in and out, yeah? gotta calm down and take proper breaths. can i see your purse, please, hon? don'tcha keep tissues in there?"

"i—" you wheezed slightly, trying not to choke on tears or words. "i was gonna wait inside until i looked for 'em..."

"all right, well, i'm here now. let me see."

carefully, he slipped your purse off your shoulder, located the pack of tissues inside, then extracted one so that he could dab your face gently. "there we go. better, hm? keep breathing f'me, just like that, pretty girl."

when you had calmed down enough to not explosively weep again, ryomen caressed the side of your face and asked, "tell me what happened."

you crossed your arms, lips pursed in a pout. "no."

you knew what he would do if you told him that naoya zenin bothered you...

"what? fuck you mean—" he inhaled slowly, then tried again, softer. "angel, how can i help if i don't know what's wrong? or—how are you gonna feel better if you don't talk about what made you cry like that? i mean, you were going pretty fast in those heels, i imagine something happened."

after a pause, he hardened. "did someone fucking do something to you?"

"ryo—"

"nah, don't give me that soft stuff. tell me who and what."

"it wasn't anything serious!" you insisted, holding him tightly. "seriously."

"tell. me."

"promise me you won't be mad!"

"no."

"ryo!"

"was it a guy?" he brushed a few hairs out of your face, grimacing. "i'll beat the shit out of him if it was."

"it was a small incident. small, that's it."

"or was it a girl? 'cuz satoshi's brother satoru knows a girl named shoko in pre-med, she'll fight anyone—unless you don't care if i do it, because i'll hit anyone you ask, babe—"

"stop!" you shook him slightly. "a guy kept following me around and bothering me, i just wanted him to go away—and he did! he just... overwhelmed me. i was scared."

ryomen stared at you when you finished speaking. he blinked a few times and nodded slowly, tongue against the inside of his cheek. "ok. yeah, ok."

you frowned, watching as his face contorted. "what?"

"this happened just now?"

"um... like ten minutes ago."

"where?"

you picked at your nails, growing nervous. "...the humanities building."

he'd turned on his heel without a second thought, and you hurried after him, having known he probably would've gone off the moment you gave him all the details, like a bloodhound with a scent for prey.

"wait—ryo! it's not that big of a deal!"

"not that big of a deal my ass." he was practically snarling.

who you didn't expect to see soon after ryomen was on his war path was the culprit himself. naoya was crossing the pavement, staring at his phone—but when he saw the tattooed, six-foot-four jock headed his general direction, he couldn't help but freeze. you also stopping, surprised and wary, was a dead giveaway on who the guy ryomen was looking for was.

ryomen glanced between naoya and you, then pointed. "him?"

you slowly let go of his arm, knowing there was little you could do to help the situation or stop your boyfriend. "yeah..."

calmly—too fucking calmly—he continued down the sidewalk until he was a few yards from naoya, then he nodded once and said, "hey, man."

naoya, contemplating fight or flight, tried to remain casual and nodded back. "hey..."

"wanna ask you—you bother that girl over there earlier?" he jutted a thumb over his shoulder, at your nervous figure in the distance.

"i didn't bother her. i was just talking to her."

"in what way."

"huh?"

"In what way—because you sound like a really shitty guy to talk to if she walked away crying."

"not my fault she didn't—"

before naoya could finish casting off whatever blame onto you, ryomen winded back a tight fist and clocked him in the nose.

naoya yowled in pain the moment the fist connected with his face, and he recoiled, hands snapping up to cover his soon-to-bleed nose. "what the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"ryomen!" you cried from behind him.

across the quad, it seemed that the others ryomen were with before had witnessed everything.

"ry!" toji waved a relaxed arm, like he knew ryomen had everything handled but still wanted to be nice and extend an offer. "good?"

ryomen cracked his knuckles, then wrung out his pulsing hand. "yeah, he shouted back. "good."

"is she ok?" choso called over, pointing at you.

"i'll take care of her."

"'kay, i guess." geto watched the entire thing with a skeptical look. "see you later."

without exchanging any words, ryomen returned to you and carted you up to his dorm. he was glad that you didn't protest or refuse to go with him—he surely thought you were mad at him, until you whispered the soft "thank you" to him at his door. he simply kissed your head and pushed the door open.

in his dorm, he insisted you clean while he ordered food. lounging in his bed, shirtless now and just in a pair of sweatpants, he scrolled on his phone while resting a hand on you. you'd positioned yourself beside him after cleaning off your tear-streaked makeup and changing into one of his hoodies.

"sushi and boba, or thai?" ryomen asked, rubbing slow circles on your thighs. he loved to grip the plush there, to kiss up from your calf to the softness of your belly—he would later, but right then, he was focused on getting you fed and rested, the two things he thought key in recovering from bad days. "wait. chinese?"

you ran a hand through his hair and leaned over to peck his cheek. "anything."

"you always say that, baby."

"i know."

"ok. sushi and boba."

you smiled. "i trained you right."

taking a moment, ryomen dropped his phone and grabbed your jaw to bring you in for a full, proper kiss that lasted until you were both breathless. and when you pulled away only slightly, hovering closely above him, lips still brushing, he licked his lips and smiled. "you're ok, right? not mad?"

"no," you said, tilting your head slightly. "not mad. maybe a little annoyed that you always jump to violence, but... i really appreciate you wanting to protect me. i know you just want me to be all right in the end."

"damn right i do. i love you, gorgeous."

smiling, you kissed him once more. "i love you too, ryo. now order the food before the place closes."

send me asks <3

buy me a kofi

The heavy silence inside the grand, dimly lit corridors of Onychinus wasn’t just quiet; it was suffocating.

For the past three days, the N109 Zone’s most feared ruler had been met with a wall of absolute nothingness.

No sharp retorts.

No lingering glances.

No soft smiles when he walked into the room.

You moved through the penthouse like a ghost, your Evol usually so vibrant and attuned to your emotions humming at a low, fractured frequency.

You didn’t glare at him; you didn’t throw tantrums.

When he spoke to you, you simply nodded or offered a quiet, hollow, "Understood," before walking away.

Sylus sat at his desk, swirling a glass of amber liquid, his crimson eyes narrowed as he watched you retreat into the bedroom without a single backward glance.

His brow furrowed.

He was used to your fire, your warmth, even your occasional stubbornness.

This icy, detached version of you was entirely foreign, and frankly, it was starting to grate on his patience.

He thought it was just a passing mood, a petty grievance he figured you'd get over.

He didn't realize that under that silent exterior, your heart was utterly breaking.

Downstairs, Luke and Kieran were pacing nervously in the main lounge, exchanging terrified glances.

They had been tracking the dates, and the realization had just hit them like a freight train.

"Boss is a dead man," Luke whispered, his face pale.

"Worse than dead. Do you think we should tell him? If we don't, she might actually leave, and then everyone in the N109 Zone dies," Kieran groaned.

Steeling their courage, the twins practically dragged themselves up to Sylus’s private office.

Knocking hesitantly, they entered to find their leader looking uncharacteristically annoyed.

"What is it?" Sylus bartered, his deep voice dripping with irritation. "If this isn't important, I suggest you turn around."

"Boss..." Luke squeaked, swallowing hard. "It's about her. We... we figured out why she's giving you the silent treatment."

Sylus paused, setting his glass down with a soft click.

He leaned back, his imposing frame casting a long shadow. "Enlighten me. I haven't the slightest idea what minor inconvenience has caused her to freeze me out for three days."

"It wasn't a minor inconvenience, Boss," Kieran said, his voice dropping to a somber, genuine tone. "Three days ago... it was her birthday."

Sylus’s gaze sharpened, a sudden, cold prickle of alertness hitting him. Her birthday.

"And," Luke added, wincing as he prepared for the impact, "you spent the entire evening at that high-end restaurant in the central district... treating the Deepspace Hunter girl to dinner after her mission. You forgot, Boss. You completely forgot her birthday for someone else."

The silence that followed was deafening.

For a second, Sylus didn't move.

Then, the realization crashed over him, brutal and unyielding.

The memories of three days ago flashed in his mind: he had been caught up in Onychinus business, dealing with the Hunter organization, and had casually treated the MC to a meal to finalize an information exchange.

He had thought nothing of it. It was transactional.

But to you.

You had sat in this penthouse, alone, on the one day that belonged to you, watching the clock tick away while the man you loved was out celebrating with another woman.

You hadn't thrown a fit. You hadn't demanded his attention.

You had simply realized where you supposedly stood in his hierarchy, and you had broken in silence.

Sylus stood up so fast his chair skidded across the floor.

The air in the room grew heavy, his dangerous aura flaring, but for the first time, it wasn't born out of anger toward an enemy; it was pure, unadulterated self-loathing.

"Get out," he commanded the twins, his voice dangerously low.

They didn't need to be told twice, vanishing instantly.

Sylus strode down the hall, his boots echoing heavily until he reached your shared bedroom.

He didn't knock.

He pushed the door open to find you sitting by the expansive window, looking out over the neon-lit chaos of the N109 Zone.

You looked so small.

Your Evol flickered weakly around your fingertips, a sad, dim glow that mirrored the exhaustion in your eyes.

When he entered, you didn't look up.

You didn't even flinch.

Sylus closed the distance between you in seconds.

He dropped to one knee in front of your chair, a position the proud, ruthless leader of Onychinus never assumed for anyone.

But right now, he would have crawled on his knees if it meant fixing the hollow look in your eyes.

"Kitten," he murmured, his voice rough, stripped of its usual mocking playfulness. It was thick with a heavy, grounding desperation.

He reached out to cup your cheek, but you subtly flinched, tilting your head away from his touch.

The rejection cut through him cleaner than any Resonator blade ever could.

His hand hovered in the air for a fraction of a second before he let it drop to your knee, gripping you gently but firmly, refusing to let you completely drift away.

"Look at me. Please."

You slowly turned your gaze to him.

Your eyes were red-rimmed, dull, and entirely devoid of the affection that usually shielded you when you looked at him.

"Are you done with your business, Sylus?" you asked, your voice a quiet, fragile whisper. "Because if you are, I'd like to sleep. I'm tired."

"I am a fool," he said bluntly, his crimson eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that burned.

He didn't make excuses.

He didn't blame the N109 Zone, or business, or the Hunter.

He took the blade entirely on his own chest. "I forgot. I let the days bleed together and I failed you in the worst way possible. There is no defense for what I did."

A stray tear finally slipped down your cheek, and this time, he didn't give you the chance to pull away.

His large, warm hand gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing the tear away with an agonizingly tender touch.

"Seeing you like this... it's a punishment I deserve, but I won't let you sit here and believe for a single second that you don't matter to me," he growled softly, his forehead leaning forward to rest against yours.

The proximity allowed you to feel the frantic, heavy thudding of his heart. "The girl from the association means nothing. It was business. But you... you are my entire world, and I neglected you on the day I should have been celebrating your existence."

"It hurt, Sylus," you whispered, your voice cracking as the wall of silence finally crumbled, letting the raw grief spill out. "I waited. I even made something for us. And then I heard where you were. With her. On my birthday."

Hearing the pain in your voice made something wild and feral tear at his chest.

Sylus wrapped his powerful arms around your waist, lifting you effortlessly from the chair and pulling you into his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, holding you so tightly it was as if he were trying to fuse your souls back together.

"I know. I'm sorry. I will spend every day making it up to you," he murmured against your skin, his hands tracing soothing patterns up and down your back, trying to ground your erratic, sorrowful Evol. "Cry, scream at me, tear this entire penthouse apart with your power if it makes you feel better. Just don't shut me out. Don't look at me like I'm a stranger."

You buried your face in his shoulder, your fingers fistting into his dark coat as you finally let the tears flow.

Sylus held you through it all, unmoving, a solid, unwavering fortress for your grief.

He kissed your temple, your hair, whispering dark, fierce promises of devotion into the quiet room.

He didn't just stop at an apology.

Over the next week, Sylus completely locked down his schedule.

The N109 Zone could have burned to the ground for all he cared.

He practically showered you in everything you could ever want, but more importantly, he gave you his undivided, suffocating attention.

He brought you rare, beautiful artifacts that resonated with your Evol, helping you strengthen it.

He personally cooked your favorite meals, standing in the kitchen with his sleeves rolled up, looking entirely out of place but completely focused on making you happy.

He filled the penthouse with your favorite flowers, and every single night, he held you close, his heartbeat a constant, steady rhythm assuring you that he wasn't going anywhere.

One evening, as you sat on the balcony wrapped in his heavy coat, sipping warm tea he had prepared, Sylus stepped out behind you.

He slid his arms around your waist, pulling your back flush against his broad chest. He placed a small, velvet box in your hand.

Opening it, you found a breathtaking, custom-made ring, embedded with a rare Aether core that pulsed beautifully with the exact frequency of your Evol.

"A reminder," Sylus murmured, kissing the shell of your ear, his voice deep and fiercely possessive. "That you own me. My time, my heart, my existence, it belongs to you, Kitten. Never doubt your place by my side again. If I ever slip up, remind me of my place. But I promise you, I will never forget again."

Feeling the warmth of his chest and the fierce, protective love radiating from him, your Evol finally flared to life, bright and harmonious, weaving perfectly with his dark energy.

You turned in his arms, looking up at him, and for the first time in days, a genuine, soft smile graced your lips.

"I'll hold you to that, Sylus."