that night when he returned home, there was a tiny flicker of hope in his heart that maybe, maybe, his situation could get better, somehow. perhaps if he went to university like his brother, his father wouldn’t look at him with those eyes, devoid of any emotion other than the one he didn’t want to name. 

“yamato is a disgrace to our family.”

hatred. 

his father looked at him with hatred.

he doesn’t have any, like, physical preferences. he’s a firm believer of looking past visuals and into the soul – after all, he hates being judged merely for his own appearance, why would he submit anyone else to such standards? though, he does love it when a person has their own style that they stick to.

LOVE LANGUAGES :

RECEIVING -> 1. WORDS OF AFFIRMATION. he's spent most of his life listening to people talking shit about him, it's really no wonder he melts in the face of praise from someone he loves. tell him you’re proud of him and he’ll scratch the back of his neck, acting all nonchalant as if he’s not grinning like a child on christmas morning.

2. physical touch, 3. quality time, 4. Gifts

5. ACTS OF SERVICE. he doesn’t need you to do anything to make his life easier, after all, it’s already plenty easy, as compared to yours. he’d much rather do this stuff for you, than have you do it for him.

GIVING -> 1. ACTS OF SERVICE. as i mentioned before, he LOOOOOOOVES being ordered around by a bad bitch. the moment you even begin to utter a request he's on his feet and saluting like a soldier being sent off for war. your wish is his command. even if you don't necessarily request anything, it is hayato's mission in life to make yours easier, and he will not be stopped by anything.

2. physical touch, 3. quality time, 4. gifts 5. WORDS OF AFFIRMATION. hayato is not the best when it comes to words, or expressing affection through them – he gets all awkward and just ends up saying straight bullshit – so the best you’ll get is a heartfelt, stuttered, super quiet compliment once per whenever-his-heart-can-handle. though, he notices how happy a simple “you look great” makes you, so he’s working on getting better at it. 

hayato yabuki is the type to ….

… tie your shoelaces when they come undone, even if he ends up blocking the middle of the sidewalk in the process. let people complain if they want to, he can fight.

… try to show off in everything even remotely competitive, just to impress you (if he ends up failing miserably and embarrassing himself instead, it becomes something like a government secret, never to be spoken about again).

… lightheartedly complain about everything, only to somehow become more dedicated to it than you. pottery painting? boring. he paints 5 cups with matching plates and a cat statue. rollerblading? waste of time. he ate shit 37 consecutive times but by the 38th he insisted he was starting to get the hang of it. amusement parks? what do you think he is, rich? he paid for every single ride and got very competitive about who screamed louder (it was him).

… buy you your favorite flowers for every special occasion, even if it’s really not that special. 

… become completely uninterested in every person in the entire world after he starts dating you. there’s absolutely nothing and no one for you to worry about. sabrina carpenter who? he doesn’t know, he lives under a rock. 

… start misery-posting on all his socials if you’re mad at him. “my partner is mad i should kill myself” type shit. it gets to a point where his friends start spamming you, begging you to forgive him cause they physically cannot handle any more of his bullshit.

… sprawl himself over you like a giant cat whenever he’s tired or sad. sometimes he wants to be babied. scratch his scalp and he’s out like a light. you’re trapped. mission accomplished.

… steal a kiss whenever possible – and if it’s not possible, he twists reality just to make it possible. nothing gets between him and what he wants. 

overall, while hayato yabuki might not be the best with words, there could never be a doubt in your mind that he loves you, and he makes sure you know that.

Ucchi’s favorite physical affection is holding your hand, especially in his pockets! You feel how rough his hands were from attempting to protect himself from fights, and sometimes they're sweaty from collapsing his hands together or placing them in his pockets.

Whenever you go in to hug Ucchi, you can smell the scent of his soap, wood, vanilla, and sometimes blood whenever he got into a fight.

Ucchi definitely loves it when you play with his hair! You always see him in different hairstyles, especially his iconic slicked-back hair. He loves it when you massage his scalp, brushing your fingers through his soft strands. You would twirl his hair, make pigtails, comb it back and place a headband on it, and much more!

Ucchi’s love for you is quite unlike the rest of his friends. He loves to spend quality time with you even if it’s for thirty minutes! When you were walking down the sidewalk, he would move to the side so you wouldn’t be by the street; he would remove his jacket and wrap it around you, brush crumbs off your cheek, and even give you your favorite food! Even when you question it, he would brush it off by saying, “You asked about eating it yesterday.”

He loves going on small dates such as walking down the neighborhood, spending the night at his house – which his mom really enjoys your company – and sometimes inviting you to festivals around the town!

Whenever Ucchi has a lot on his mind, he opens up to you. It was always easy to talk to you because you are so soft-spoken, and no matter how bad the situation was, you try to understand and help settle the matter.

Everything on his mind includes what happened during the day, important plans with his friends, and you. Definitely you, and he won’t even try to hide it with his facial expression whenever he’s near you.

so he believed, until he met yamaguchi kumiko. his eccentric high school class teacher who taught him that winning a fight will not necessarily ensure the safety of what matters, and there’s other ways to protect.

this fact became all the more apparent when he finally scored a girlfriend. 

due to his nature (as well as that of his friends), he still got into fights quite often, and he was quick to realize she didn’t quite like that, if her commentary and expressions were anything to go by. 

he remembered one time he got badly beaten up and, in a way unknown to him, ended up on your doorstep. the shock and concern that greeted him wasn’t entirely unexpected, but it was definitely something of a wake-up call. you sat him down on your bathroom floor and with hands so gentle it felt like you were caressing flower petals instead of his bloodied face, dabbed a cotton swab at his bleeding temple and cheek. 

“i really don’t like seeing you like this, ren. it worries me,” you had said, lips wobbling in a way he knew meant you were holding back tears, attempting to look strong and put together. he also knew exactly what the pang in his chest meant, but he shrugged it off in favor of maintaining his pride, “it’s just a few cuts and bruises, i’ll be fi-”

“there’s a few cuts and bruises every time i see you. new ones. and what if next time, it’s something worse?” your next wipe is a tad harsher than intended and you both wince, a silent apology in your eyes, “you always worry if i’m keeping warm enough, so forgive me for worrying about whether i’ll see you in one piece or not.”

after a moment of tense silence, you wipe the last bit of dirt off his face and he sighs, finding himself giving in to your concern because he just can’t say no to you (and because he does feel bad about the situation), “fine, i’ll be more careful. i’m sorry.”

every occasion where he got in a fight post that conversation, he made sure to stay true to his promise. he dodged hits more mindfully, was more precise with his blows to end fights quicker, and if he could not evade, he would make sure he was hit where your gaze would never fall. it was something like his dirty little secret. 

and you praised him for it, because you didn’t know. you never knew he was merely being more careful – you thought he quit fighting entirely. he made sure his friends kept their ginormous mouths shut around you, and that his condition was like fresh out of bubblewrap before he saw you. he became a master at hiding his injuries and bruises, just to not worry you again. 

so you can imagine his shock when he’s cornered while out on a date with you, by people he got in a fight with merely last week. the difference is, back then he had his friends for aid, and now he’s alone.

“now, now, kazama. who’s this pretty thing you have here?”

his eye twitches. “she’s not a thing. move.”

his hold on your hand tightens slightly and he straightens his posture, ready to just barrel past these sleazy guys if he has to, but the one who spoke grabs him by his collar and he’s dragged right back to where he stood.

“who said you could leave? we have some.. unfinished business. don’t we?”

he pretends to think for a moment, hand squeezing yours in what he hopes is reassurance, just to make sure you’re okay, “no, i don’t think so. we beat you guys up pretty good, so, i’d say that’s done business.”

by the way your hand slightly loosened hold on his he can already imagine the look on your face, and he has to do everything in his power to maintain eye-contact with the guy and not look back. ren knows he couldn’t handle the disappointment and betrayal you’re probably looking at him with – he’d crumble under your feet like a dry leaf, apologize a thousand times or worse, say something stupid like ‘you just assumed i stopped fighting, i never said i actually did’ and ruin the one good thing he has going in his life – so he forces his guilt along with his regret down like one would swallow bitter tea and steadied his gaze. 

unfortunately by doing so he pissed the guy singlehandedly holding his collar and pride off, and it turns out, he’s simply too good of a ragebaiter.

“you little–”

ren’s eyes widened when the guy reeled his hand back, and in turn he raised both of his in surrender as a last line of defense, “wait! not the face, my girl will get mad.”

he could not care less about the names of his opponents, or what school they’re from, or even the fact that he is to face 6 guys alone – the only things he cares about are your safety and not angering you any more than he already had.

because to kazama ren, you were earth, and he, jupiter. his job in life was protecting you, making sure no asteroid dared to even graze your atmosphere – as long as he’s alive and breathing, you have nothing to worry about. he would make your life easier bit by bit, ensuring you never come to harm no matter what he had to sacrifice; his own health, looks, or his pride, for your safety was priceless compared to what he possessed. if he had to apologize on his knees, beat a couple guys up, or even take a beating himself, he would not hesitate, as long as it would guarantee your safety.

his love for you was earnest and steady, built from the ground up, an immovable object in its final form. he’d let the earth itself explode before he allowed someone to harm you.