Temporary Chifuyu

Kazutora

Usually every other teenager would jump at the chance to sneak out in the middle of the night to do god knows what unholy things as a result of them surely getting grounded for life by nagging parents. But, you were different. 

Unlike your friends who always stayed out, doing their own thing, you decided to spend your weekend enjoying time to yourself while relishing in the joy of getting a full eight hours of sleep before transitioning back to dealing with your stressful weekday routine of high school. Your mom was out of town working, so there wasn’t any point in sneaking out. Besides, you preferred staying home compared to running the streets.

You enjoyed the time alone and getting a good night’s rest was a bonus!

You had already freshened up and changed into a comfortable set of pajamas. Slipping into the warmth of your comforter and numerous pillows, you sighed in content. 

There was nothing better than getting ready for bed after relaxing on a Saturday. 

Everything was just perfect. The room was cool, your bed was warm to perfection, and your eyes were already droopy, ready to be closed for rest. Nothing could prevent you from sleeping through the night. The moment your head made contact with your pillow, you were out like a light. 

But of course, all good things must come to an end. 

It seemed as if you hadn’t fallen asleep at all when you were suddenly startled by the sound of what seemed to be small pebbles knocking against your window. 

Your eyes flew open at the small pangs against the glass. You quickly sat up, heart beating partially fast at the sudden disturbance. You glance at the window, and then to your nightstand where your digital clock sat. Squinting, you briefly check the time that glowed across the small screen: 3 A.M.

Who on earth could be up at three in the morning throwing rocks at my window??

You certainly didn’t know. Anyone who knew you knew better than to disturb you on your weekends. 

Once again, the pang of rocks against your window rang in your ears. 

Groaning, you rubbed your temples. 

“This is ridiculous…” you muttered, already annoyed at the disruption of your precious sleep.

Reluctantly, you slipped out of bed and quietly padded over to the window, determined to find out who could possibly be disrupting your sleep at this ungodly hour.

Unlocking your window, you slide it up, and peek your head out.

“Pssst! y/n!,” a familiar voice whispers from below.

Cocking a brow, you look down, only to be met with a pair of golden eyes and a familiar head of blonde and black locks.

“Kazutora? I-Is that you?” you replied in the same hushed tone.

“Quick! Throw down the rope will ya?”

He must be joking.

“Go to bed!” you deadpanned.

His eyes were wide, “W-what? Please! It’s cold!”

You sighed tiredly, glancing back inside your room and back to your pleading friend. 

“Wait there!”

He smiles in reply, nodding as he waits for you to throw down his entrance to your window. 

Searching your closet, you found an old knot of sheets you had made into a rope. After all, this wasn’t the first time Kazutora has shown up to your window asking to be let in. However, it was the first he’s ever come unannounced. He knew better, so why not warn you ahead of time?

You tie one of the ends to your bedpost and throw the rest of it down. Afterwards, you settle yourself on the edge of the bed that faces the window. Patiently, you waited for Kazutora to climb through, which didn’t take very long. 

Less than five minutes later, he managed to get himself halfway through. Soon he’s slumped against the floor, grinning like a dork at you.

Frowning, you crossed your arms.

“Don’t tell me you're mad at me for waking you up?” he quipped.

“Kazutora…it’s too late to be pulling stunts like this. We’re not little kids anymore.” you huff, giving him a pointed look.

His grin staggers, flashing a guilty grimace. “I-I know, it’s just…I didn’t have any plans so I was hoping we’d go on–I don’t know–a little adventure,” he pauses, glancing back at you and then shooting his gaze at the ground, “like we used to…” he sighs.

Your harsh stare softens and your shoulders relax. 

“If you wanted to hang out, you could’ve said something,” I whispered. 

He perks up, hopeful eyes captured by your own. There’s a pause, a quick silence.

“You know I won’t say ‘no’ to you Kazutora.” You breathe out.

There’s more silence between you two, and at the moment, you didn’t even care that it was late and you were losing sleep. You didn’t want him to leave, but it was hard to really sit in the same room with him right now. It was tense, and neither of you dared to speak up. 

There’s a sudden shift in weight next to you on the bed, looking back up, you turn to the side, meeting your friend’s slightly flushed face.

“Hey, um,” he clears his throat, “that…was a lie.”

Your brows furrowed. “Hm? What do you mean ‘tora?”

Situating himself more comfortably on your bed, he folds his arms, holding your curious gaze.

“The truth is…I just…I wanted to be with you. I-I missed you, I guess.” 

You blinked a few times, processing his words carefully so as to not mistaken his intentions. But, once it clicked what was going on, it was pretty clear to you as to what the poor boy was trying to say. So far, he was as red as a tomato, and it killed you at how cute he looked. You got the hint, but you would rather hear it from him.

“What’s that mean?” you asked coyly, leaning in towards him with a grin. You dropped your hands to your sides, awaiting a response from the struggling juvenile.

He takes a shaky breath, swallowing thickly as he considers his next words. 

“I just…I couldn’t stop thinking about you s’all…” he mumbles.

Clicking your tongue, you get on all fours, slowly crawling towards Kazutora until he’s backed up and eventually trapped between you and the mattress.

“Kazutora, do you…like me?” you teased.

He nods, his head hazy and spinning from the close proximity. “I-I do!”

After the small confirmation, you were satisfied, immediately collapsing on top of him and snuggling into his chest. 

“Good. ‘Cuz, I like you too!”

Groaning, he envelopes you in a warm embrace, returning the small ounce of affection.

“W-why didn’t you say something sooner then?!” he whines.

“Because you're cute when you’re nervous!” You laughed airly.

For the rest of the night, he stayed with you, falling into a deep sleep in the comforts of your warm bed.

Hanma

There wasn’t a night that went by that Hanma didn’t appear from your bedroom window. He was always welcome to use the front door. You even went as far as to give him an extra key to your apartment. 

However, according to your manic friend, using the door “wasn’t as welcoming” compared to using your window as an entrance. Either way, you didn’t mind Hanma’s company or his random appearances. 

It was comforting in a way. It was like a fresh touch of color to your daily plain routine.

Tonight was exactly the same. 

Hanma had recently texted you not too long ago, saying he’d drop by to hang out. Per usual, you had opened your apartment’s window, waiting for Hanma to climb down the apartment balcony staircase. 

From there, you would wait in your bed with a book in hand as you waited for Hanma.

Ten minutes later, there’s a knock on the wall. Turning your attention from your reading, you meet with the familiar wicked smile of your awaited guest.

“Hey there sweetcakes. Missed me?” 

Rolling your eyes, you bookmark your page and place the book on your nightstand.

“Hardly.” you lied.

Hanma scoffs, climbing through the opening of your window with a noticeably big plastic bag in hand. 

Tilting your head slightly to the side, you eye the items in the bag with a questioning stare. 

“What's in the bag?”

“Hm? This?”

He grins, proudly raising the bag in his left hand as if he had just found gold, “I’d thought we would make some weed brownies and try ‘em!”

“W-weed WHAT?!” you choked, baffled at how calm he was at the sudden proposal of doing something very much illegal.

He cocks a brow, “Hm? What? You don’t like brownies?” He questioned thoughtfully. 

You were ready to smack him upside the head and scold his ass right on the spot, but you caught yourself and recollected your composure before losing your cool.

“Hanma…it’s not normal for ordinary people to spend the night making weed brownies.” you sighed, smoothing the lines on your forehead.

“Where the hell did you even get the weed?”

“I know a friend,” he simply shrugs, walking over to you and casually situating himself next to you on your bed. 

Both of you rested against the headboard of the bed, enjoying each other’s company in the quiet with nothing but the rambunctious sound of the ongoing city of Kabukicho filling the gap between the two of you. 

“Have you ever made a weed brownie before?” you chimed, staring at the chipped ceiling of your small apartment. 

“Yeah, plenty of times.” he muffledly replied, lighting the cigarette that rested between his lips.

“Let’s make some tomorrow.”

He gently blows a puff of smoke, smirking as he turns his head to you, “Sure thing Sweets.”

You chuckle at his ridiculous pet name, while a warmth spreads across your chest, rising to your cheeks. 

“Hey…” he pipes up, turning your gaze towards his own. “I’ve, um–been meaning to tell you somethin’.”

“What’s that?” you asked warily, a small grin gracing your tired features.

“...I really like you y/n.” he sighs, once again exhaling a large cloud of smoke from his thin lips. 

You knit your brows together, eyes searching his expression for any foul play. 

“Hanma…” He turns his gaze back to you, “did you eat a weed brownie before coming here?”

He flicks your forehead.

“Ouch! Hey!” you rub your forehead while using your other free hand to swat his shoulder.

“That’s for asking dumb shit. Of course I didn’t.” he scoffs, mildly glaring at you.

You huff, settling down in your spot as you process his sudden confession. 

“But, why?”

“Hm?” he furrows his brows, taking small puffs of his cigarette before resting it between his fingers. “Why what?”

“Why do you like me?”

There’s a heavy silence weighing down on the two of you. Hanma stares at you for a little longer, before turning his attention to the blank, dull walls of the room. 

“I like you because you're different.”

You return to face him with your own stare. 

“Different, how?”

He smirks and returns your fixated gaze, “Give me a chance and you'll see~” he winks. “You won’t regret it.”

You did give him a chance. And you never regretted it at all.

Ran

You weren’t expecting a visit from Ran. Especially through the window of your run down apartment building. 

You just came back from taking a double shift from work. It was well past 2 in the morning and all you wanted to do was crash for the night. 

Trudging through your apartment, you kick off your shoes and sling your bag on the couch. 

You make your way over to the fridge where you kept a bottle of wine. Grabbing the bottle you take it with you into your bedroom. 

Once you close the door behind you, you turn around and are met with a familiar lanky figure in your bed. 

“Oh, great your home.” Ran casually exclaims as he thumbs through a random book from your shelf. 

He glances at you and then down to the wine bottle in your hand. Cocking a brow, he folds his arms and says, “Rough night?”

“Yeah,” you sigh dejectedly, trudging over to his spot and settling next to him in the bed. 

“Mind if you share that?” he asked, nudging his elbow gently to your side with a tired smile.

You hum, handing over the bottle while you stare at the static TV screen. “Go ahead.”

He gently grasps the bottle, easily unscrewing the cap and downing a good mouthful of the bitter liquid before handing it back to you.

“You should seriously get that thing fixed.”

“I don’t mind the static…” you wearily say, downing your own mouthfuls of the harsh liquor.

“You had a rough night yourself?” you asked, looking over to him to study his features more closely. He’s usually covered in cuts and bruises, sometimes after getting into another brawl. Tonight was just that.

Ran’s once porcelain, smooth skin was now littered with small cuts and a few bruises. Nothing major to damage the face. You could even go so far as saying he looked more handsome when he was a little roughed up. Of course, you would never admit it out loud. He’d never let you hear the end of it.

“You could say that.” he chuckles, turning his attention to the static of the TV. 

“Wanna talk about it?” you asked.

“...would it make me feel better?”

“You tell me.”

He stays quiet for a moment, shaking his head.

“I got into a fight.”

“Well duh, I already know that dummy.” you sigh, pinching your bruised cheek.

“Ow, so mean.” he pouts, turning to face you again. 

You suppress the smile creeping on your lips and press them into a firm line.

“Why did you start a fight?”

“Bold of you to assume I’m the one who picked a fight first.”

You give him a pointed look, ignoring the lousy answer. Your eyes narrow as you press for the truth. 

“Ran.”

Now it was his turn to sigh. “Ok, so I did start it first, so what?” he huffs, staring back at the TV. 

Your gaze softens at his hardened tone. You gently take his hand and squeeze down gently. 

“Why?” you voiced softly.

Once again he goes quiet, attempting to find the proper answer to your persistent questions. When he does, he doesn’t look at you, he just continues to stare at the static screen of the TV.

“Because they mocked the woman I care about the most and I’d be damned if I didn’t teach them a lesson about bad-mouthing you.” he muttered irritably, his hand tightening around your own. 

You were shocked, not just by the subtle confession, but also by his angered expression.

For the first time, you saw Ran Haitani angry with someone else besides his little brother. And deep down, it touched you knowing that he cared. 

Smiling, you wrap his arm around your shoulders, scooting closer to him and pulling the covers over the both of you. 

“That’s fine with me.” you whispered against him.

"Really?" he whispers back.

You hummed," Yeah. I'll let it slide this time. But afterwards, not more pointless fighting."

He smirks.

"Yes Ma'am."

Changing Diapers - Keizo Arashi

"Keizo!"

Your shout brings the massive man out of his shed where he tinkered with his bike in peace. You meet him halfway on the patio, holding up his drooling son with your dirt-covered fingers.

"Diaper." Keizo takes the baby out of your hands without a complaint, stepping over your half-full pots and placing the child on his chest with care.

"Ooh, you stink, little man." The baby lets out a short gurgle, curling his fist into Keizo's shirt while he walks to the baby's room. "Alright, let's get you cleaned up."

The process for Keizo is simple: undo the diaper, remove it, clean, vaseline, then new diaper. He's gotten it down to a science that minimizes accidents, which astounds even you. After the first pee-mid-change, Keizo learned two things:

1. His son loves to laugh in the middle of pulling his little pranks, and

2. waiting it out is impossible.

So he's gotten it down to less than two minutes (unless it's just a disaster), and usually, the tyke isn't too fussy about being outsmarted. Usually.

Today doesn't seem to be one of those days, though.

The sharp cry once Keizo finishes changing him is not foreign, and he lifts his child up into his arms, holding him close while the baby signals his absolute displeasure.

"I know, I know. Daddy doesn't let you have any fun when you're being changed," he hums as he sways back and forth, soothing his son into less and less fussing. "Mommy always gets the worst, though. You give her the business."

"Not funny," you mutter, walking past the room with your potted plant in hand. "We can't all be the Flash when changing diapers."

"I could teach you," Keizo calls out, smiling brightly.

"You already did," you reply sullenly. "I'm still too slow."

"Mommy'll learn, won't she, little man?"

Best Gifts - Takeomi Akashi

Rattle, rattle, rattle.

"Daddy, what did you get me?"

"Open the package and find out," Takeomi chuckles, taking a glance at you before focusing back on his little girl. She tears open the wrapping and gasps, yelling and bouncing while the two of you watch and laugh.

"It's a nerf gun! It's a nerf gun!" The girl unpackages the toy with Takeomi's help, and he shows her how to load the foam bullets into the gun.

"You take each one and put them in the clip," he begins, placing each one in with calculated slowness. Your child watches intently, eyes wide as he then slides the clip closed. "Now, you have to learn how to aim properly."

Takeomi slides the target poster out of the box and goes to the opposite wall, pinning it there before stepping back. "You think you can hit the middle of this target?"

"Yes," his daughter affirms, then presses the trigger of the gun. The first bullet misses the target entirely, bouncing off the wall.

"Alright, you've got to hold it so it's steady," Takeomi mutters, showing her how to do it while positioning her arms properly. "Then make sure it's aimed properly before shooting." The bullet narrowly misses, barely two inches shy of the target.

"Okay, you have two bullets left," Takeomi notes, and the girl groans. "So what do you do?" When she takes the gun and shoots with one hand while advancing on the target, Takeomi's mouth goes dry. He's seen that technique before.

It's his technique.

"Wonder where she learned that," you muse behind him, sipping on your hot chocolate while he tries to teach his daughter that 'no, that's not how you do it when you're a beginner'.

Best Bedtime Story - Wakasa Imaushi

"The prince said, 'Let down your hair!' And what did Rapunzel say?"

"The fuck you want me to let my hair down for?" His six-year-old daughter cries out, hands thrown up in the air. "It takes a long time to get it this clean!"

"That's right," Waka replies, nodding as he turns the page. "Then the prince said, 'You're right, Rapunzel. I'll just take the stairs.' So he walked up the stairs and was met by the evil witch."

"And then he beat her ass!" His other six-year-old cries out, his fists clutched tight. "He beat her so bad that she couldn't walk for a month."

"Then he saved the princess," you interrupt, opening the door to the twin's room. "And took her to eat at a nice diner before asking if she wanted to meet up again."

Busted.

Waka swallows hard, then glances at his children, who look away from the door and at their hands.

"Right," he replies, closing the storybook.

"And then the Queen asks the King how the royal children know so many colorful words."

"And the King says..." Waka purses his lips. "That we should talk about it in the kitchen. Night, kids."

"Night," they call out, ducking under their sheets while you drag him to the kitchen.

"It's Takeomi's fault." He instantly breathes, trying to stave off the argument. "I swear. They always come home with a new word." You squint, pursing your lips while you observe him.

"That's believable," you whisper, turning around and facing the stove. "Tell Takeomi he's not on playdate duty anymore."

Best Baby Talker - Shinichiro Sano

"Ba, ba, ba, ba..."

"Ba, ba, ba..." Shinichiro answers the baby in his lap, leaning forward and smiling at the little boy. "And then what did she say?" The baby replies with a gurgle and a sharp laugh, which makes Shinichiro laugh as well. "No, she didn't." Shinichiro is fully engrossed in his conversation while you look over the couch, watching him babble excitedly with your son.

It's been like this for months, where Shin will just... talk with your baby like he can understand him. And you're thrilled to see him interacting with his firstborn like he's fully acquainted with the small child.

"Remember when we first got him?" he wonders, catching your attention.

"You mean when I gave birth to him?" you laugh, and Shinichiro smiles up at you.

"He was so small. Now he's talking and grabbing with his baby nails..." As if to emphasize his point, your son grabs Shin's skin and pinches unintentionally, making the man hiss. "Little things can cut through atoms, I swear."

Shin lifts the child up and presses kisses onto his chubby cheeks before placing him on his shoulder and standing. "This is fun," he breathes, eyes glassing over as he thinks about the future. "We should have another one."

"Not anytime soon, I hope," you sigh, running your hands over your son's face. "One is enough for right now."

"I don't know..." Shin muses. "Think he needs someone to play with."

"You're his playmate," you retort, pinching Shin's cheek. "Best Dad of the Year, remember?"