#hayate

The doors slide open with a soft, tsss, he exits amongst the crowd. Unnoticed, unnecessary to be noticed. Light steps bring him to the stairs that drag down from the station.

Eyes lowered to the floor, he halts, listening again.

Unnoticed, unnecessary.

"Oh! Sorry! Shit, my bad."

Noticed, necessary.

He turns around with a soft huff; remembering to be human.

"No, it's okay," he says, a little hushed as he brushes himself off; human enough. He's so preoccupied that when he looks up, he notices.

You.

Like an ancient flower that had been gone for years, until finally shown again. To him. You're beautiful, like an ocean rippling; no, like the sun glistening on a hot summer day.

No, like a meadow bristling in the wind.

Still no. Your beauty makes everything else ugly and dull.

"No, it's okay, honestly! I should've been looking where I was walking," you laugh out, awkwardly.

You wave your hand at him and simply disperse.

But he can't. The past long forgotten as he follows. Silently, unnoticeable. You work at an unimportant venue, somewhere that you wouldn't be needed. He stays for your whole shift. By the window, a soft smile on his lips as you wonder why the wind is blowing so violently.

It's nighttime when you finish, and he follows you home. Enjoys your company, shares a night snack with you– all the while you never know he's there. The wind dances around you, coating your hair before effortlessly picking it up and tossing it in many directions.

All pointed at him.

Your eyes are squinted when you turn around, swearing that you…heard something. He made it extremely obvious, thick steps, loud breathing, clothes rustling. Yet, you don’t notice.

You shake it off, slinking yourself back into your lonely little apartment. He watches you undress, shower, brush your teeth, and slink into bed. The hot air breathes in through the open window as he climbs in. No sound, no evidence that he’s there.

He leans over your body, staring.

Your breathing is steady, peace overwhelming your senses as you doze off. His hand drags over your body, tempting to touch but never quite making it. Fingertips brush over the apple of your cheek.

“Do you like that?”

You lean into him, just like the lost kitten you are.

“You do. Of course, you do.”

You huff softly in your sleep, your eyebrows tightly furrowed as you blink awake. You find the window open, the breeze roughly blowing in– it takes you a moment to get up to shut it. When you lie back down, he stares from the corner you haven’t looked at.

The next day goes on.

Routinely. You get up, brush teeth, wash, get dressed, and head off to work.

You could easily get kidnapped between this routine, for example; You get up, he presses his hand to your face, and watches you lose consciousness. Two, as you walk into the bathroom, he sneaks up behind you and, once again, watches you lose consciousness.

But he doesn’t, doesn’t kidnap you or do anything to harm your delicate petals of life. He shouldn’t be here, he knows, but he can’t stop just yet. Not when he peeks over your shoulder and sees your name splayed across your phone screen.

It’s your boss, it seems.

Someone had quit the job, and now you're taking over their shifts. He hears the way your breath falls out of your lungs in a long, exasperated sigh. Oh, you must not enjoy that. He swallows down your distaste, harboring it in his own stomach. Although, your life seems awfully mundane.

You live like a common civilian, no signs of training, interest in fighting or even any worth mentioning skills. Just a common woman who goes to work and comes home. You get a text from a family member and he holds back a tiny laugh.

Only your family and boss message you.

As the day drags on, running further and further. He lets his mind wander, lets it run in circles as he pictures you lying comfortably in his bed when he arrives home, nose stuffed into a book he recommended for you. Your ass is perked up, waiting for him. Wouldn’t that be nice?

For such a normal, uninteresting person like you. It would be a blessing for him to remove you from this world and into his. Perhaps he’d have you join ‌Ayane’s sect, Hajinmon, so you could plead your loyalty to him. Although the animalistic fiend in him urges him to have you in his own sect, that way he could own you as well.

You’d be a lower shinobi, the lowest of the low, and he could train you. Or rather, keep you locked up within the village, a mother figure to the rest of the shinobi. He would enjoy the last thought more than usual.

That’s when he decides it. He will be the one to save you, he will take the responsibility of rescuing you from this mundane hell. The weeks pass with no substantial meaning. You have days off where you watch TV or make yourself food in the kitchen.

He annoyingly opens the windows as you cook, forcing his own breeze to cool down your food before you can eat it. You shut the window with a loud huff, muttering to yourself about how you thought you had closed it.

When you doze off, he opens it again. Crawling back in, like a panther on a tree. He moves around the kitchen, figuring out how to work your stove and oven. He opens your fridge, examines all ‌the expiry dates and all‌ the foods that are stacked up. There’s a mental reminder in his head that remembers which foods you seem to like. The footsteps lead into the living room, his eyes scattering across the room to drink in the decor and colors that seem to be reappearing.

Once he remembers it all, he makes his way into your bathroom. Opening your shampoo, soap, conditioner, all of it. He lets it waft into his nose as he memorizes it, thoughts of you showering with it enters through his cranium, dancing across the pleasure neurons in his brain. The water glides across your hair, down your face, and through the crevices of your neck. He pictures the water dancing delicately down your chest, then the droplets curving into your belly button before making its beautiful dance down your legs and to the bottom of the tub.

Goosebumps build on his arms as he squirts some of your body lotion onto his hand, bringing it to his nose. He inhales it, gulping down its scent until it hits his core.

“...So good..” he manages out, using his thumb to remove his glove on his other hand. The lotion sinks into his skin when he rubs it in. Letting the skin soak it all in, slowly; circling it as it dissolves. He presses his palm against his face once it all dissolves, holding it to his face as he makes his way back into your bedroom.

He grabs your phone from your bedside, opening it the way he memorized. He clicks on the first name, your family member. Not bothering to send a message, he opens your images to find a damning one. Nudes, anything that would make them disgusted with you.

He finds nothing.

Opting for a more, easier way. He sets the phone down, taking out the dagger he always carries with him and cuts a wound into his own arm. No wincing, no hissing. Then smears it effortlessly around your bathroom tub. Snaps a picture with a phone, entering the message, ‘I’ve done it. Don’t come to find me,’ with a the next photo of the knife within it.

He sends it.

Cleans the tub and leaves no evidence.

Deletes their contacts and blocks their numbers. He then goes to your boss’ contact, entering awfully risque messages to him about how badly you love him and wish to bear his child, as he makes his way back into the bedroom. Fingers dip beneath your shirt, carefully raising it to reveal your breasts.

Snaps a photo, sends it to your boss. Deletes the contact soon after, and removes the texting app from your phone.

Before leaving, he allows himself a long glance at your chest, staring at your areolae then down your stomach. Carefully, he places your shirt back on.

Hayate sucks in a tight breath as he stands by the edge of your bed, hands slightly shaking. He brings a large grin to his face as he imagines how happy you’ll be within the Mugen Tenshin. How you can finally bring some meaning to your life. His cock swells, aching painfully within his pants. Twitching against the fabric.

He palms it. Relieving some of the desperate ache before releasing it from the restraints. The home is empty, no sounds except your sounds of sleep.

That’s enough to spur him on.

His hand wraps around the base, jerking it to the tip slowly as he hunches over. His hips push forward, fucking himself on his own hand as he watches you sleep. It’s erotic, it’s perfect, and it drives him toward the edge of insanity. “You’re so pretty,” he whispers, letting his tongue lick at his lips before roughly biting down on it to silence himself, “You’re going to be mine– all mine–”

Soon, he cums with hushed groans. The next morning you awake, doing your routine. You decide to go get some coffee, since you feel awfully tired. You make your way into the nearest coffee shop, ordering. As you do, someone taps you on your shoulder.

“Oh!” you turn around noticing that man you bumped into a few weeks ago at the train station. He has a sweet smile on his face, “Hi, I know this is weird, but– can I buy your drink? I feel awful for when he bumped into each other that day.”

You laugh softly, “Um, it was really my fault so I should be buying your drink.”

He shakes his head no, still smiling softly. He seems so sweet, brown hair framing his face perfectly. Hayate had changed his outfit to the mundane outfits the city expects everyone to wear. You step aside as he steps in front of you, pressing his credit card against the pay machine, paying for your drink before ordering his.

“My name is Hayate, by the way,” you nod and reciprocate by telling him yours, “Would you like to stay and drink with me?”

You scrunch up your nose and check the time, thirty-five minutes before your shift. Just like he planned. Confidently, you agree. Opting for a seat by the window.

You talk and talk. Everything you like he likes, everything that’s your favorite is his. He makes you feel important by tentatively listening and asking questions about you rather than talking about himself. This must be the MEET-CUTE all the movies explain.

“My work starts soon, I should get going,” you explain, as he stands up.

“Aww, really? I can walk you there, mine doesn’t start until later,” he says, sounding human enough.

You smile and nod, “That would be great!”

You don’t know that he’s walking you there to guide you by the police, assuring they don’t notice you just in case your parents called about you last night or even this morning when they woke up.

Once you arrive, you wave him goodbye and enter.

He stays by the snack store nearby, waiting for you.

Once you arrive, your boss immediately approaches you before you can even clock in. He’s furious, eyebrows tightly knitted as he looks at you like you’re the most disgusting thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

“My wife saw your messages.”

You’re taken aback, confused, “What messages?”

He laughs, “What messages?! You’re kidding me! Get out of here, you’re fired!”

You plead, beg to keep your ‘civie’ job, obviously to no avail. Once you exit, tears are stuck to your face as you shakily make your way to the snack store, trying to keep your only sense of routine. When you see Hayate, he turns like a robot with his eyes squinted. You don’t notice that’s not human enough.

“Are you okay?” he asks, feigning worry, you shake your head no, and he guides you outside before giving you a tight hug. You sob into him, wondering why your family hadn’t messaged you yet. You assume it’s just because everyone decided to hate you today. You mumble, ramble about how you’ve done nothing wrong. How everything feels like the earth suddenly decided you’re it’s number one enemy.

You stay in touch for 2 more months, and he makes sure every time the cops come to check your house, you’re either at his, or on a date with him. When you mention deciding to get another job since you don’t want to mooch off of his money, that’s when he brings it up.

‘Why don’t we go on vacation before that? You could use the escape, then once we come back you’ll get a job.’

Luckily, since you’re gullible to hot, sexy brunettes, you agree.

The trip is long, he sits beside you on the plane. Sharing snacks, music, shows, and lets you nap on his shoulder. Once you arrive, the hike is long, but he carries you when your legs get tired. You giggle into his ears, “Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel like a princess,” he huffs out a soft laugh in response, “Do I now? You are a princess to me,” he hums out. You reciprocate by placing a soft kiss on his cheek, unbeknownst to you; his eyes roll back into his head as he holds in a low groan.

You’ll be the death of him.

The village is large, lively. Hayate told them beforehand not to acknowledge him when he arrives, just so you don’t get too overwhelmed. Thick steps carry him over to where he resides, and he sets you down; letting you remove your shoes.

“This place is really nice, I’m surprised I never heard of it,” you say as you look around at your surroundings, enjoying the nice breeze.

“It runs in my family,” he whispers, letting his arm cling around your waist as you enter his bedroom, setting down your supplies, “That’s cool,” you reply.

“So! Wait,” you start, splaying your body across his bed as he removes his jacket, tilting his head like a big panther.

“You live here? Or, you lived here when you were young?” your face twists softly in confusion, trying to figure out what exactly is his mystery living condition.

He laughs, tossing his jacket to the side before crossing his big arms across his chest. You gawk for a bit, letting yourself drink in all of his muscles.

“I live here. This is my home, passed down from my father; I visit the city for trips.” he explains to you, it sounds normal enough; and luckily, you take it as normal. After a long chat, Hayate crawls into bed with you, curling his hand around your face as you melt into him.

He’s got you here, finally. After all these months of tribulation and being away from you, he’s got you underneath him, in his bed, in the village. “You wouldn’t have to get a job if you stayed and moved in with me,” he hums out, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.

Your chest knocks against his when you laugh, “Sounds like you’re trying to kidnap me,” you whine, arms wrapping around his large torso. He makes a sound of acknowledgement, pressing soft kisses against your neck.

You two are close enough for small touches of love. It’s the beginning of your relationship, he’s asked you out already and you reciprocated; so luckily he doesn’t have to be pathetic in order to have you clung to him like a leech. You do it willingly.

“What if I want to kidnap you? The city is terrible for a woman like you,”

“What?” you respond, pulling away from him to look at him. For a moment he feels like he said the wrong thing at the wrong time. Was it too soon? Are you going to run away from him? You better not.

“I mean, you’re not wrong,” you whisper, memories of your past hardships reappearing as you imagine staying in the city, “My boss probably blacklisted me.” you manage out, a weak smile appearing on your lips.

His eyes are full when he stares, examining your face. He watches as the tears well up in your eyes as you remember your parents never reaching out ever again for some odd reason. You huff as you place your hands on his shoulders and he waits for an answer.

“We don’t use phones here, but if you want to watch a show or something, I’ll allow it.”

You giggle at that, placing your forehead on his, “Allow it? Do you own this place? Bigshot.” you jest, and he makes a soft face that makes you feel like your guess is correct.

You say, I will think about it. So he does too, all day. When you both relax in the hot springs, he thinks about the whole time. When you curl into his side, bare skin pressing against his; he lets his mind waver for a bit. The day goes on without a hitch, perfectly. Snacks throughout the day, watching the sunset, and then counting the stars.

You lie in his bed, playing with his hand as you lay against his arm, breathing slowly.

“I think,” you start.

“Mm?” he responds, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll stay here, with you.” you nod against his skin, kneeling deeper and deeper into his skin. He presses more kisses to your head, delightfully surprised when you look at him with those beautiful eyes. You lean in to kiss him first.

He reciprocates in the least human way possible. The free hand behind your head, clutches your cranium and pushes you flat against his face as he kisses you. You don’t push or pull away, knowing he was strange to begin with; he just doesn’t want to admit that you know already.

You pull back with a soft huff, and he releases you.

“I want to eat you.” it’s wavering, his facade. He’s becoming the Hayate he never wished to portray; the Hayate that reminds himself how to live, how to move like a human and not a ninja. You place your hands on his cheeks amply, letting the warmth of your hands soak into his skin.

“You’ll have time,” you reply, not questioning. You allow it.

He lets out a soft whine, a pitched sound that mimics the sound of a wounded animal as he clings to you. Large arms stuck to your waist, pulling you flat against his chest. Where you belong, flat against him forever, connected to him and not to the worthless city life that you had lived before.

“You’re not leaving,” he whispers against your hair, and you squirm slightly. He doesn’t let you budge, “I love you, I love you,” he repeats, huffing your scent into his nose.

There’s soft silence in the room before you mumble it right back into his chest, against where his heart resides, “I love you too..”

It feels like he’s swallowing down the smoothest tea. Like the moon is shining down on him despite the darkness he contains. He holds you tightly, engraving his scent onto your body and letting your nails scratch at him through the strength he portrays.

He drives his body on-top of you, letting your soul enrapture his as he drives it deeper and deeper inside of you. There’s huffing, loud groaning, and your whines are loud to match. His skin is melting against yours. Tongue licking at your mouth as you reach where he forced your body to. The words exit again.

I love you.

He huffs loudly, eyes glued to your face as it twists further. Your face convulsing in satisfaction, nails digging into his back as a constant reminder he’s gotten you to rely solely on him.

“Ngh..!” he lets out, hunching over as he reaches the rough finish line of his own body’s.

Your breathing form into one string as he breathes into your mouth.

You’ll never be away from his side, and he’s relishing in the fact that he has finally rescued you from the mundane life you lived without him.

Noticed, and necessary.