Kuhaku-Void

⚜️ Baki

MASTERLIST

Fandoms:

Yandere Various Baki Characters x Male!Mohammad Alai!Son!Reader

Prologue

Summary: Everyone knows Mohammad Alai Jr., but no one knows he has a younger brother. Born five years after Jr., [Name] Alai is the family's dearest member. On the outside, you seem like a quiet, anti-social kid who avoids eye contact with everyone except your father. But beneath that silent persona lies a total monster.

Honestly, you never wanted to leave America. You would much rather stay home, chill, train, and spend as much time as possible with your Tata. But to your absolute annoyance, your father forces you to travel to Japan to "keep an eye" on your older brother. It's incredibly irritating—your Yaya is a grown-ass man, yet you’re the one stuck babysitting him. But because your Tata asked, you don't complain out loud.

But Japan quickly becomes a massive headache. A bunch of annoying pests won't leave you alone, and your presence completely disrupts the underground martial arts world. Without even trying, your quiet vibe manages to stir up the bloodlust, fighting spirits, and toxic infatuation of the strongest fighters in the world.

You came to watch your brother, but now every dangerous fighter in Japan is completely obsessed with you.

The steady, rhythmic sound of leather meeting vinyl echoed through the massive, empty gym of the Alai estate. Thud. Snap. Thud.

Inside the huge, otherwise empty space, a tall, young American man of African descent moved with smooth and effortless grace around a heavy punching bag. He wore nothing but a pair of white boxing shorts, showcasing an incredibly ripped, athletic build. His frame was a masterclass in athletic precision—his muscles were lean, distinct, and sharply defined, framing the classic look of a high-level striker who relied on unmatched speed and flawless footwork. A broad chest was also present, with powerful shoulders that rippled with every casual strike. The dark hair clinging to his forehead damply framed sharp, handsome features. At 25 years old, Mohammad Alai Jr. was the picture-perfect image of an elite, peak-level athlete executing a completely normal, casual, everyday body training routine.

With a sharp, final, snapping right hook that made the heavy bag swing wildly on its chains, Alai Jr. stopped. He rolled his shoulders out, exhaling a long, slow breath into the quiet room.

He walked over to a nearby bench where his things were sitting. Snatching up a white towel, he tossed it loosely around his neck before picking up a water bottle. He cracked the cap open, took a long, refreshing swig, and set it back down. Reaching out with a taped hand, he picked up his smartphone, instantly losing himself in the bright screen as the massive gym fell back into a dead, heavy silence.

Creak.

The sudden groan of the heavy double doors at the far end of the gym opening broke the quiet.

Mohammad Jr. didn't even look up from his screen. He was entirely unfazed, figuring it was just one of the estate's staff checking in on his progress, and probably informing him that his little bro was waiting for him. For a long moment, there was nothing but the brief silence, almost immediately followed by light, incredibly faint and weightless footsteps stepping onto the polished floor. Step by step, the shadow drew closer until a pair of shoes and then a pair of legs came into view, finally stopping directly in front of the bench, right in front of Mohammad Jr.

"Tell my younger brother I'll be coming down shortly," Alai Jr. muttered distractedly, his thumbs still flying across his phone screen, not once looking up. "Just let him know I'm wrapping things up here."

A suffocating, tense, icy silence stretched over the gym. The air instantly grew heavy, dropping in temperature as the figure standing over him didn't move an inch.

"You can tell that to my face yourself."

The voice was cold, sharp, and carried an innate, authoritative weight that cut through the room like a sharp blade.

Mohammad Alai Jr.’s thumbs immediately froze on his screen. Recognizing that chilling voice instantly, an involuntary shiver ran down his spine. He straightened his back in a flash, sharply snapping his head up to look at the person in front of him.

And... yep. There he was. Standing right there was his younger brother.

[Name] Alai.

The overhead lights cast dark shadows over [Name]’s face, emphasizing a slight, irritated scowl pulling at his lips. He was breathtakingly, incredibly attractive, possessing a stark, ethereal beauty that felt entirely out of place in a brutal world of martial arts. Long, dark eyelashes cast soft shadows over a pair of piercing, intensely sharp eyes. His skin was a flawless, sun-kissed tan, radiating the perfect, untouched health of someone loved by the sun. Yet, his aura was utterly freezing—he looked totally detached, like a menacing, dangerous monster wrapped tightly in invisible psychological chains.

True to his absolute refusal to grant anyone respect besides a select few, [Name]’s piercing gaze didn’t look into his older brother’s eyes at all. Instead, he kept his stare fixed coldly on Alai Jr.’s chin and lower face, treating his own brother's gaze like irrelevant white noise.

Mohammad Jr.’s confident composure cracked. A shaky, sheepish smile forced its way onto his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck, completely unnerved by the silently angered aura radiating off his five-years-younger sibling.

"Oh... hey, [Name]," Alai Jr. greeted, his voice tinged with a nervous laugh. "Didn't realize it was you..."