#comodo dragon

“Move, asshole!” you snap, pushing Kana out of the way.

“Fuck you, bitch. You’re not the boss of me!” Kana snaps back, flipping you off.

You growl and stomp off to an open spot next on the wall next to the door, muttering curses at the handsome guitarist. 

You’ve had a crush on Kana since you met him two years ago. Problem is, he’s an asshole! You accidentally threw away a guitar string that to you, and three others including his tech, thought was broken. Kana lost his shit. He yelled at you for 30 minutes straight, telling you that if you were going to be Comodo Dragon’s assistant you were not allowed to touch his things unless he personally asked you to.

You had nodded along with his yelling, your head down and eyes focused on your ripped up, black low-tops. As soon as he had stopped yelling you dashed off outside and sat in the van and cried. Yume came out not long after and told you that Kana hadn’t meant anything by it. He told you a story about a past assistant who had thrown out an entire box of new guitar strings and how it had cost them hundreds to replace them.

“Kana’s just particular about his things. Don’t worry think too much about it. He’s a nice guy I promise,” Yume said before patting you on the head and heading back inside. 

You had gone out right then and bought Kana a new string. You didn’t think you could face him, so you sat it gently on his guitar and shuffled away. 

The next day, you had walked out of your hotel room with no makeup on and had bumped into Kana. He had made a remark that he liked the way your eyeliner made your eye’s look, but to you, it sounded like he was telling you to go put makeup on. You glared at the brunette, cursed him out in your mother tongue and stomped off back to your room, your confidence nearly non-existent. From then on, you made sure to never leave your room without makeup on.

You had tried making up with him, but your words got jumbled and you ended up insulting him. He had pushed passed you angrily, knocking you to the ground and spilling your coffee all over you in the process. That had been the last straw.

From that day on,  the two of you have been at each other’s throat. 

In Kana’s eyes, you were a bitch who didn’t know how to take a compliment.

In your eyes, Kana was the asshole who made you give up on ever getting, or wanting, a boyfriend. 

The two of you tried to avoid each other as much as possible, but that’s hard when you are stuck in a van for hours on end, for months at a time.

“Would you two cut it out?!” MeN-MeN yells, covering his ears like a little kid. “I’m sick of you idiots fighting! It’s been two years! Get over yourselves!”

“I will be civil when Kana decides to stop being an asshole,” you mutter.

“I’ll stop being an asshole the second you stop being a bitch,” he mutters back.

You glare at Kana from your spot next to the door. He glares right back. The two of you keep it up until CD’s manager calls you out for something and Hayato calls Kana for rehearsal. You slip out the door and walk next to CD’s manager, listening to what he needs you to do. When he’s finished, he heads to the stage to watch the rehearsal and you head out back to the van to get it organized.

You open up the back of the van and let out a heavy breath at the mess before you. You pull your hair up and set your hands on your hips. 

“Where to begin,” you mutter, searching for the best place to start cleaning. 

Once you have your course of action planned out, you head to the front of the van to grab a trash bag. That’s when you feel a sharp pain in the back of your head, and everything goes black.

~~~

You wake to the sound of a familiar male voice yelling, and the sound of feet hitting pavement. Your eyes flutter open at the same time someone slides their arms under you and lifts you up. You look up trying to make out who is carrying you, but you’re having trouble because of your blurry vision.

“Hmm?” you hum, “What happened?”

“Shh,” you hear the familiar male voice whisper. “You’re hurt. Try not to talk, sweetheart.”

You feel your face heat up at the unfamiliar pet name. You put all of your brain power into clearing your vision so you can see who is carrying you. Your vision clears all at once and a terrible headache pounds through your head. You groan and bury your face in the neck of the man carrying you. You feel his hold on you tighten and tighten your own hold on him.

That’s when you notice his scent. A very good smelling cologne you smelled just a bit ago. 

“Kana?” you ask.

“Didn’t I tell you to shush? Until we figure out what happened, and just how injured you are, it’s better if you don’t talk,” he says softly, no malice apparent in his voice at all.

Taken aback by his soft tone, you do as you’re told.

Soon enough, Kana is sitting, you still clutched against his chest as if you are something precious to him. You feel your eyes begin to close again and hear Kana’s panicked voiced call out to you.

~~~

You wake up again what seems like hours later. You take a second to assess where you are. You feel the rough yet cushy feeling of couch cushions pushed against your back. Casting your gaze to the right confirms your thought as you see the back of the couch there. You feel something wrapped around your head and slowly reach up to touch it.

“Don’t!” a voice commands.

Your hand drops immediately, landing on your side. You look to your left to see who got onto you, to see a sweaty Kana standing in the doorway, drinking out of a water bottle.

“Kana? What happened?” you ask as you attempt to sit up.

You wince at the sound of your voice, husky and rough from the hours of unuse. 

Kana huffs out a sigh and makes his way over to you. He holds his water bottle out to you and you accept it gratefully. Once your fingers have closed around the bottle, Kana slides his arm under your back and helps you sit up. He then slides behind you once you have sat up so that he can help keep you up. 

“You were outside cleaning the van. Someone came up behind you and hit you over the head with something. We caught the guy and he’s being interrogated,” Kana says, his voice unusually soft.

You take a drink from the opened water bottle, trying not to focus on the fact that Kana’s lips had been where yours are just a few minutes ago.

“You helped me,” you say, pulling the bottle from your lips. “Why?”

Kana sighs, letting his head fall back against the back of the couch.

“Because I don’t actually hate you, ________. I only treat you the way I do because I had figured I fucked up any chance I had with you the second I yelled at you,” Kana confesses after a pregnant silence.

You look at him over your shoulder, your mouth agape.

“You don’t hate me?” you whisper.

“God no,” Kana snorts, “You’re fucking beautiful, not to mention a complete sweetheart. You think I don’t notice how much everything I say to you hurts you? I hate myself every time I see you wince at something I say. I abhor myself forever hurting you in the first place. I tried to compliment you that morning at the hotel, you know that right? I was trying to tell you that your eyeliner really makes your eyes stand out. I wasn’t telling you you weren’t pretty, you’re fucking gorgeous with or without makeup. I could care less if you wear it.”

You stare at Kana in complete awe, confused by the man sitting in front of you. This man who shares the same face as the man who has called you “bitch” for the last two years, who has made your job a pain for the last two years. But this is not the same man. Same face? Yes. Same attitude? Hell no.

“What changed?” you ask, your voice just above a whisper.

“Huh?” Kana asks.

“What changed? Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?” you ask, spinning around so you can face him. 

Kana sighs.

“You could have died today. If that man had hit you any harder than he did, or if we had come a second too late, you would have died. Seeing you laying limp on the ground in a pool of your own blood scared the shit out of me. I hadn’t realized just how much I had fallen in love with you in the last two years. You being hurt today put everything in perspective. If you would let me, I’d like a second chance,” he says, staring into your eyes.

You nod.

“I can allow that,” you say.

“Thank you,” Kana says, “How about we start all the way over.” Kana holds his hand out to you, “My name is Kana, I’m the guitarist for Comodo Dragon. And you are?”

You take his large hand in your smaller one and say,