angst: reader used to be in the same crew as kyoka but left unexpectedly right after winning ‘Juste Debout 2016’ together which caused alot of anger and confusion to Kyoka (classic Mnet beef). But turns out you left because of a bad injury (or any other valid reason) and Kyoka was cold at first but softened up after your injury relapsed during a mission.
Pulse | Kyoka Yamamoto x fem!reader
A/n: Aww guys, I’m so sorry I disappeared 😭😭 I really hope this fic was worth the wait. Enjoy! Also my wattpad: yavahyi
The girls and I entered the combat zone with excitement. Looking around, I realized that we were the last team. In addition to us, Royal Family, Motiv, Ag Squad, Bumsup and.. Ojo Gang participated in the world of street woman fighter. Sitting down in their seats, the big screen began to show the reactions of other teams to us. No words hurt me, like Kyoka’s words
–彼女がRieとRHTokyoの背中にナイフを突き刺さないことを願ってるけど…あの子の癖を考えると、刃はもう研がれてるかもね。
(I hope she doesn’t stab Rie and RHTokyo in the back… but judging by her habits, the blade might already be sharpened.)
These words reflected on me as if they put on me the same loop from which I ran away for so many years. As if everything I tried to forget came back in one sentence. But Kyoka will not be left without an answer.
–まだ引きずってるの？もう9年も経ったんだよ。そろそろ大人になったら？
(You still can’t let it go, huh? It’s been nine years — time to grow up.)
I shouted her with poison in response. Rie, who was sitting next to me, slapped me on the hand, hinting that I should not start a drama. The whisper went all over the battle zone. Indeed, it couldn't be otherwise. After learning that Kyoka would also participate in this competition, I realized that we could not avoid a scandal, but I gave myself (girls and managers) a promise that I would avoid her. But how did I know what would happen very soon..
"Welcome to World Street Woman Fighter. I'm Sung Hanbin, your host. Here's how we'll decide the rankings for class mission. The fight judges will grade your performance individually and the rankings will be decided based on the sum of your crew members scores." Everyone welcomed the host. Some girls started screaming and admiring him. Hanbin is really handsome. He began to explain the rules and how I would judge them.
"All right, let's watch the rookie's dance video."
Everyone admired the creation of Aaliyah and Vanessa from Aq Squad. At the end of the clip, they were given the floor to choose the worst dancer. And as expected, they chose Kylie and Maya from the Royal Family.
– «We gave them time to rehearse, but instead of following direction, they filmed TikToks. It really irritated me. It felt like their heads weren’t in the game.» – Ag Squad girls argued their decision.
There were more discussions, but I couldn't focus. My thoughts were a jumble, and the conversations and judges' voices were white noise to me. They quickly moved from discussing the rookie class to watching the middle class. My heart skipped a beat. I felt Rena's comforting hand on mine.
It was a filming day for the middle class. We all took our positions, ready to dance. I felt weak all morning, but I didn't want to let my team down. When we were given the command to start, we all began dancing. The filming seemed to last forever, but it was actually just one day. During breaks, I always stepped away from everyone, seeking fresh air. Every shot was challenging for me, but I tried to hide my discomfort, as I didn't want us to be the worst dancers.
Here's a new location for filming, we're dancing with ojo gang and bumsup. Due to problems with the camera, we started shooting again what we had been shooting for an hour before. A whole hour of hellish torment. Listening to instructions, hearing comments, feeling that you are about to faint, and, oh, being in the same room with Kyoka, and even more so dancing next to you was a hellish torment.
– «Are you fucking kidding me?» – I was indignant at the words of the cameraman, to which other girls were added
– «please forgive me for the malfunction of the camera, but you will still have to dance it again.» – the cameraman's words angered the girls even more, but we had no choice.
We started dancing again. After a couple of steps, my chest became so hard that I stopped understanding where I was - everything around became vague and alien. I tried to breathe in the air deeper and concentrate on the dance, but it didn't work - the air seemed to run out somewhere halfway. My throat tightened, my heart was beating fast and unevenly, my temples were pounding.
Finally, we finished the dance and were given a break for 30 minutes. I moved away from my girls. It felt like I was suffocating. I even stopped, grabbed the wall, and I was terribly scared. My head seemed to be covered - the sounds dimmed, my eyes darkened. The whole body asked: "Stop, sit down, get some air, ask for help." Asuka came up to me and started saying something, but I didn't understand her. The space floated. The sound moved away, became deaf, like under water. Faces, voices, everything meraged into one muddy noise. I noticed that a few people gathered around me, but before I finally fainted, my eyes stopped on Kyoka, who was shaking me by the shoulders, trying to bring me to my senses.
I opened my eyes - everything is floating. White ceiling, bright light, some sounds... and silence inside. I'm in the hospital. It's immediately clear from the smell and the drop in the hand. My heart is pounding hard, as if with interruptions. My head is spinning, my body is weak, like after running in a dream.
I'm trying to remember what happened. Shooting? Cameras? Kyoka?.. a nurse came up to me. Calmly, without unnecessary words:
- «You have heart problems, maybe you know. You lost consciousness because of crazy loads. Your condition is unstable, the doctor recommends withdrawing from the show.»
I stayed silent. There was nothing to say.
There’d already been a heart surgery in 2016. I thought everything was fine.
And now — here we go again.
I was barely coming to my senses when the nurse appeared — bustling around, checking the IV, tapping something on the monitor.
Then she suddenly turned to me with a smile and said:
— «You have such a sweet girlfriend. She sat by your side all night, didn’t leave for a second.»
I nearly snapped my neck turning to her in shock.
— «What? What… girlfriend?..»
My brain couldn’t keep up. I wasn’t even fully aware of where I was, and now I was being told I had a girlfriend.
— «Kyoka, right? Isn’t she yours?» – the nurse went on, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. — «She’s been here since last night. Just left recently — we had to push her out of the room. So worried… If I were you, I’d hold on tight to someone like that.»
While I lay there, trying to process what was happening, the door clicked open — and there stood Rie.
— «Oh, you’re awake!» — she smiled wide, though I could hear the exhaustion in her voice. — «Honestly, I was starting to think you were faking it just to skip filming»
I tried to smirk, but it came out weak. My throat was dry, and even my eyes didn’t feel fully awake.
– «Very funny,» — I croaked. — «My heart literally stopped. Or almost.»
Rie stepped closer, sat at the edge of the bed, and looked at me seriously.
— «I know. We were all scared. Kyoka was panicking. She was barking orders on set — “bring this, call that, where’s the ambulance.” And then she nearly got into it with the on-call doctor. He tried to limit visitors, said it was too late, and she just looked him in the eye and said, “I’m not leaving. Either you let me in, or call your supervisor.”»
I blinked. This morning just kept getting weirder.
— «Wait, so she really… stayed here?»
Rie nodded like it was the most natural thing in the world:
— «From the evening on. Sat by your bed and didn’t move. Said, “If she wakes up, I want to be the first thing she sees.” Just like a dorama scene» — Rie laughed.
I pushed myself up on my elbows, even though my body protested.
— «Did she… say anything? Like…»
— «Like she’s in love with you and wants have your kids?» — Rie smirked. — «No. But her eyes? They said it all. You were everything to her. Honestly, I was shocked. I thought your friendship died ages ago. The way she acted on the show? It felt like she erased you from her life.»
I sank back onto the pillow, staring at the ceiling like it might offer answers.
— «I honestly don’t understand anything anymore… I thought she hate me.»
Rie sighed, leaned closer, locking eyes with me:
— «Maybe you thought that. But clearly, she didn’t. So when she comes back — and trust me, she will — be ready. And don’t pull that “what are you trying to say?” face. It’s suspiciously cute, by the way.»
And then — silence. Just the beep of the monitor and the steady rhythm of my heart finally beating the way it’s supposed to.
Though who knows… maybe it’ll falter again the moment Kyoka walks in.
And somehow… I expected that. What did I want from her, after the way she treated me?Did I even have the right to ask for anything, when I was the one who left — left us?She had every reason to ignore me, to pretend I didn’t exist.
But if she hated me so much…
Why did she stay with me all night? Why did she care so much, after how cruel she was to me on that show?
— «The girls from RHTokyo gave us some trouble on set, but despite that, they did well. The worst dancers were the girls from Ag Squad.»
At those words, I let out a sigh of relief and released Rena’s hand, which I’d been squeezing so hard it probably turned purple. I could feel my girls patting me on the back and shoulder, giving their support. This mission ended pretty well for us, all things considered.
After the shoot, we returned to the hotel where all the teams were staying. Thank God we were on different floors. But, of course, I wasn’t that lucky in every way. First — my room was on the twentieth floor. And second — fucking hell, my room was right next to Kyoka’s. Seoul clearly had it out for me.
Just another slap in the face from life. The girls wanted to grab dinner at a café, but I declined and headed back to the hotel alone. As I walked in, I noticed Kyoka waiting for the elevator. Since there was only one, I chose to ride up with her. Thanks, but climbing twenty flights of stairs didn’t sound appealing — especially after being in the hospital.
We were both headed to the twentieth floor, and with the ride being so long, the silence between us became suffocating. Then, to my surprise, she suddenly spoke.
— «Why did you never tell me about your heart condition? Why didn’t you say anything about the surgery? Why did you just leave… without a word?»
Joy overflowed in me every single second. Everything inside was screaming: we did it!
Kyoka and I hadn’t just won another battle — we had conquered the world. Juste Debout. Paris.
The finals against the Dutch duo, Jeems and Lil’ Blade. We were standing on stage while the crowd roared like an ocean. I felt like I was on top of the world, and that world was applauding me.
And then — a sudden blow. Not to the body.
I remember the dressing room dimming, like someone had turned off the light in my eyes. A loud hum in my ears. My head — completely empty.
Then came the ambulance. The sirens. The hospital.
An oxygen mask. People talking way too fast. And the doctor’s voice cutting through the noise:
“Congenital defect.” “Complication.” “Life-threatening.” “Surgery.”
I woke up in a white hospital room. Everything was quiet. Next to me — a monitor, beeping in steady, dull tones. I blinked. My throat was dry, my body heavy like soaked cloth. The door opened. A doctor walked in — gray-haired, eyes exhausted. He looked at me like he already knew he was about to say something that would break me.
He sat on the edge of the bed and spoke slowly, almost with pity:
— «The surgery was successful. We managed to save you. But if you keep dancing like you did before — your heart won’t make it. Next time… might be the last. I strictly forbid you from going back to your old training. No competitions. No stages. No pushing your limits. This isn’t advice. It’s the condition for staying alive.»
I just stared at him. I didn’t cry. I didn’t even breathe. It felt like every word he said hammered into me like a nail. Then he left. And I was alone.
No pain. No fear. Just emptiness. Like everything I had lived for — had simply vanished.
I was a world champion. And now I was forbidden from doing the one thing my heart beat for.
And now… it beat too quietly.
They discharged me a week later. No one visited during that time. My family stayed in touch through social media — they were in Japan, and I was in Paris.
When I flew back to Osaka, I went to the studio late at night. My coach was there, arms crossed, waiting. She wasn’t surprised. She already knew.
— «I’m leaving Rushball,» – I said.
She didn’t argue. Just nodded.
There was understanding in her eyes. And a quiet sadness.
— «What about Kyoka? Are you going to talk to her?» – she asked.
— «No. I… I just can’t anymore. Please ask her not to contact me. Say whatever you need to, just… don’t tell her the real reason I’m leaving.»
Another nod. That was it. End of the conversation.
And for me — the end of an era.
The next day, my phone exploded.
“What, you’re some queen now?”
“Just say you’re full of yourself and stop acting like the victim.”
How do you even explain that you can’t do the thing you love anymore — because your own heart has turned against you?
A week passes.I’m walking through the city to the pharmacy. Bag slung over my shoulder, hood up, silence.
Kyoka is standing right in front of me.
Her face twisted — half rage, half pain.
— «You ran away,» – she says. – «Like a rat.»
— «You didn’t even bother to say goodbye properly. Or at least explain why.»
— «Oh right, you’re a ‘champion’ now. Too busy for us mere mortals, huh?»
— «Shut up!» – she yells. – «We won together, Y/n. That was our victory. And you stole it. Took it and vanished.»
I try to speak, but don’t even get the chance.
She turns and walks away. I stay frozen.
My cheek is burning. My chest — hollow. And all I want to say is:
“I just wanted to stay alive…”
But there’s no one left to hear it. It was all too much for the sixteen-year-old me.
A small space where the air feels compressed. Kyoka stands across from me, shoulders tense. Her eyes pierce into me, searching my face for answers.
The elevator doors open, but I don’t even have time to move. She grabs my arm — sharply, firmly — and pulls me with her.
— «What are you doing?!» I blurt out, panic in my voice.
She doesn’t answer. Just keeps pulling.
We walk down the hallway. She unlocks a door, rushes inside, throws down her bag — the keycard clatters to the floor.
The door slams shut. I stand there, still stunned. She turns to me. There’s a storm in her eyes.
— «Why did you hide all of this from me?!» Her voice cracks. «Do you know what I’ve felt all these years?»
I swallow the lump in my throat. Pain in my chest. But I know what I want to say:
— «Why did you wait for me at the hospital?»
Her breathing hitches. No answer. Just a look — straight into my soul.
— «Why did you hide your illness and the surgery?»
A question for a question. Great. Silence again.
Kyoka lowers her head. Her hands are trembling. She opens her mouth like she’s about to say something sharp, but her voice breaks. Then she moves toward me. Fast. Certain. She grabs my shoulders and pulls me into a hug, hard.
We cry. Both of us. Together. Not sobbing, not wailing. Just… unraveling.She holds me like if she lets go, I’ll disappear.
— «It was hard to let you go…» she whispers into my hair. «But I had to. I couldn’t hold on. I wasn’t strong enough. It was unbearable…»
— «All this time… everything we lived through… and one illness shattered it all. My heart…»
She lets out a shaky breath.
— «But you know what hurt the most? Not that you disappeared. But that I… I…»
— «That you what?» Kyoka asks, her voice barely audible.
Her voice is trembling. No anger. No reproach. Just confusion. And fear — fear of hearing something she might’ve longed for… or dreaded.
I exhale. Like I’m stepping off a cliff. But I speak anyway.
— «I wasn’t just afraid of you finding out about the illness…»
Pause. She looks into my eyes, unblinking.
— «I was afraid that if you found out how much I loved you… you’d break my heart before the disease ever could.»
She freezes. I feel her fingers tightening on my back. Silent. I go on, my voice cracking:
— «You were older, stronger, more talented. You were like fire to me — impossible, blinding. I looked at you and wanted to be worthy. Not just to be your dance partner. But to be the one who… who loves you. I always loved you. From the very beginning. And I still do…»
I barely get the last words out. My lips are trembling, my breath shattered. I’m terrified to meet her eyes — but I do anyway.
Kyoka is still. Not even breathing. Her lips pressed tight, as if holding something in.
And in that moment, she closes the distance. No words.
She grabs my face, my cheeks, my chin — and kisses me.
Deeply. Fiercely. Tenderly.
Like the kiss has been waiting for years.
I don’t even have time to process it — just feel her hands, her breath, the salty taste of tears on our lips. Mine? Hers? I can’t tell anymore.
She pulls back for a second. Looks me in the eyes. Her gaze is burning.
— “You’re such an idiot…” she says, almost laughing and crying at the same time.
Kyoka steps back, her eyes red, her breath torn to shreds. She looks at me like she’s been waiting for this moment her whole life — and it finally came.
— “After Osaka…” she whispers. “After that slap… I thought it was over. That you erased me from your life as easily as you slipped out of mine with no explanation.”
She takes a step back, like her words are burning her throat.
— “I hated you. And at the same time… I couldn’t live without you. I wandered the streets where we used to walk after practice… couldn’t sleep, eat, dance. Everything lost its meaning. Everything inside me screamed: ‘Come back. Tell me this was all a mistake.’”
Her voice drops, almost breaks:
— “Do you know what it’s like? Replaying that moment over and over? When I called you ‘stuck-up’, hit you… and left. Then stood in the elevator with hands shaking like a child’s. I wanted to come back. Say I loved you. That I’d forgive everything, if you’d just explained.”
Kyoka pauses. Then steps forward again and takes my hands.
— «I wasn’t mad because you left. I was mad because you left in silence. Because you didn’t give me the choice. I would’ve stayed. With you. To the end. Even if you collapsed — I would’ve held you up. But you never let me.»
She exhales, clutching my hands tightly:
— «I carried that pain for nine years. A war between resentment and love. And now that you’re in front of me again, with those damn eyes and that unbearable closeness that still drives me crazy… I’m not letting you disappear again. Not this time. Not tonight…»
The girls from the other teams were clearly stunned when Kyoka and I walked onto the set together — not just side by side, but close. Almost too close. Like we’d never been apart.
Someone froze with a water bottle halfway to their lips. Someone stared. Someone pretended not to notice — but their eyes still slid our way.
And when the girls from her own team saw her back during the outfit change — covered in fine, fresh scratches — and those unmistakable hickeys on her neck…
The silence in the locker room thickened like steam. Someone bit their lip. Someone whispered:
And Ibuki just exhaled a single word:
Kyoka glanced at her reflection in the mirror — the scratches, the marks, herself — and smirked ever so slightly.No hiding. No excuses. Hair tucked behind the ear. Chin up. Shoulders square.
A proud, almost defiant look in the mirror.
As if it wasn’t just a reflection — but a trophy.
And in that moment, no one needed any words. Everyone understood.
