In every universe...

PROLOGUE.

Taking advantage of the red light, he picked up his cellphone from the cupholder to check his messages for what felt like the millionth time. Nothing, not even a fucking phone call to explain what kept her from responding– to explain why she left him in the dark, hard and aching. He flicked his thumb along the screen, up and down, down and up as if doing so would magically make a new message appear.

Damn that woman for teasing him like that.

If he truly believed in heaven and hell, he’d curse her to hell for all of eternity. She knew better than anyone what this silence would do to him– to his vivid imagination. 

He left the office much earlier than usual, but once he’d begun thinking with his other brain he had essentially become dead weight. Rika had given him a folder with printed spreadsheets an hour ago and he couldn’t even remember if, when or why he had asked for them. 

He tried.

He tried to be productive, to get something done, but he couldn’t begin to make sense of the figures when every time his eyes swept across the numbers ‘6’ and ‘9’, he pictured himself plunging his tongue inside his woman’s pink, clenching hole while she arched down to repeatedly swallow his dick in a single pass.

Akira’s fingers clenched the steering wheel tight as he made his final turn into the parking garage. The drive up always felt neverending after a long day, but it seemed much more so this evening. 

Park…

Door.

…Elevator. 

And the ride up to the penthouse felt even longer…

And perhaps the concierge spoke to him on his way in, but who could say with the desperate way he honed in on his key ring, fiddling and fumbling with each step.. 

He felt as if he had been attempting to suck fresh cement through a sip straw by the time he finally got the fucking door open. He had expected to be met with silence. He thought that maybe tonight she’d opt to play an infuriating game of Hide and fucking Seek just to drive him even crazier, but no…

She had something else in mind…

REVERIE RESIDENCES

Penthouse 1A

Fall/Winter 2023.

Evening.

Alyssia met him draped in silk from shoulder to ankle with a smile upon her face, sensual jazzy tunes filling what would have been thick silence between them. She removed the laptop bag from his shoulder, kissed his cheek and helped him slip out of his coat. After he kicked off his shoes, she turned on her bare heels. The woman’s black silk robe swayed gently behind her like a cape, mysteriously beckoning him to follow her and like a moth desperate for the flame, he did. 

Reaching the open living room, Akira stumbled on his own into the centre-curve of the tar colored sectional with a grunt, resting his eyes for a moment as its cushions eagerly accepted him into their plush embrace. 

What a pleasure it was to finally be home after hours upon hours of phone calls and emails and meetings and notifications and squeaky voiced assistants and memos! Here, he could almost forget about the blue balls and pre-cum staining the interior of his navy blue pants– at least until he felt her hands rest upon his knees, further prying his already widespread legs apart. 

“Babe–!” he managed a surprised whisper.

Tender brown hands floated along his thighs until they found the thick lump of flesh quickly hardening beneath his chinos, “How was work today, my love?”

Go to hell, woman.

A hiss cut through his teeth as she palmed him, her eyes, the color of glossy milk chocolate shining up at him. Why was she pretending to give a shit about work? She didn’t care about his work– neither of them gave a fuck about his work right now.

“Painful.” he answered. 

With effortless, practiced motion, she had him unbuttoned, unzipped and unburdended. 

“Oh?” she said softly, thumb tracing his reddening glans. “I’m so sorry to hear that, baby.”

He meant to spit out a venomous, ‘You should be,’ but she had coated a hand with her own spit and for now those slow, easy strokes were more than enough to tamper the flames. The best that he could manage was something resembling a grunt catching in his throat. It was just like her to disarm him with nothing but her nimble touch. 

Stroke after stroke, realization crept into him. 

He knew from the way he writhed into her, the way his lazy low bun unraveled against the cushions as he rolled his head from one side to the other, the incomprehensible slurring seeping between his trembling lips that from the first steamy text she sent this morning, she had been playing him like a fiddle and he had eagerly fallen dick first into her fist. 

She was good.  

He might have argued that she had learned her fine arts from the best, but he was much too far gone now for banter. Having his eyes clenched as tightly as they were now deprived him of having his second favorite sense filled by her, but he knew that if he looked directly at her this early on– if he saw that smarmy ‘I win’ expression of hers, she’d ‘win’ a facial that would knock him out until the next morning. 

And of course, he couldn’t have that.

As if she could hear his internal battle, she dragged her warm tongue along his curved length at a pace so torturous, he couldn’t help but cry out an embarrassing string of expletives and pleas. 

She was good… But, this was bad…  if he didn’t gain control now, he wouldn’t be able to make it to the main event!

“Take off the robe, babe.” he ordered, opening his eyes to slits so that he could bear witness to her dutiful acquiescence. Black silk caressed her shoulders, parted at her full chest like the Red Sea and revealed the true red marvel that hugged her breasts. Then, without warning, she took him whole and he caved into himself with a shudder. 

Fuuuuck!

Greedy hands explored what they could of her perfect body despite the awkward positioning. He was determined, caressing her shoulders, stroking her warm skin, dipping into the crevices between her neck and shoulder to delicately trace at the swells of her breasts. A pathetic moan slipped past his lips and he wasn’t sure if it was due to the feeling of his cockhead repeatedly finding its second home in the back of her throat or just how buttery smooth her skin felt against his rough fingertips. 

Perhaps it was a mixture of both? 

Akira buried a hand in the mountain of curls between his thighs, attempting to assume control of her eager, bobbing head but as his toes curled into the plush carpet, he realized that it was a lost cause. The only way he’d get her to do what he asked now was by begging for it and if that was what it would take, then... 

“Babe, get up here. Please.” he huffed. “Let me kiss you…”

The negative hum sent sensational vibrations across his length that made him hiss out another string of expletives and pleas punctuated by a deep growl. Saliva had begun to collect at the corners of his mouth, then eventually seeped down his chin. His tongue lolled out to catch it, moistening his drying lips in the process. 

“Lie down with me, babe.” he whispered, but she didn’t bite– well, she did begin to nip ever so slightly at his balls and fuck did he hate to love how well she knew him!

Her tongue stretched along the underside of him, its tip massaging at his sack while gentle breath weaved through his pubic hair while her lips stretched wide at his base. It had become clear that she had no desire to relinquish control to him. If he could manage to last (and at this rate, he knew that he wouldn’t), who knew just how long she might have remained down there, relishing in the way his body trembled between her and the sofa. 

“C’mon, babe.” he whispered. “Let’s take care of each other.”

Yet, the woman persisted, pressing sweet little kisses along his length and swiveling her tongue along the engorged head and pop! 

God, don’t even get him started on the fucking pop…

She pulled off with a pop so loud it rang in his ears, “Do you really need to taste me that badly, Akira?”

This was it.

“Yes.”

She began to alternate between stroking and licking to sucking and massaging. 

“Need me riding your face, baby?” she teased, breath caressing his veins. 

He gasped out another affirmative. 

“Rolling my hips, making a mess all over your pretty lips?”

Akira took a handful of his own hair and groaned to keep from yelling yes a hundred times over.

“You're such a mess already, baby. Are you sure you could even handle that?” 

“For fuck’s sake, Allie!” his hissed. “Just let me taste you! Quit makin’ me beg!”

The woman surrendered her claim on his length to reach between her own legs, making a show of slowly dipping her fingers beneath the red fabric, then between the slippery warmth he’d been salivating over. His mouth fell open at the sound of her playing in what had been accumulating there– what must have been waiting for him for hours now. 

Mirroring his slacked jaw, she continued to tease in silence for a while, until she jolted as her own ministrations had become much too pleasurable to pretend to ignore.

“Do you hear that?” she whispered, and all he could manage was a pathetic nod, his gaze refusing to tear away from the gloss that had begun to pool along her thigh. 

“Mmm,” she moaned, “feels so good…”

“I’ve got something for you that’d feel even better, babe. How ‘bout it?” he attempted a smile but he was too feral for it to appear as sweetly as he meant it.

She bowed her head to take him into her mouth once more, moaning around him as the schlop schlop schloping between her thighs grew even more pronounced than it was before. He had half a mind to snatch her up by the hair and seize control instead of waiting patiently on her to offer it. 

“Fuckin’ pussy’sso wet– let me–” he panted, “babe, listen to how messy she is. C’mon, don’t you need me?”

She giggled, slowly pulling off of him with a more subtle pop this time. “You’re persistent today. I’ll give you that.”

“Why don’t you give me what I’m asking for instead?” 

“Fine,” she sighed, shaking her head. “If you insist.”

A weak smile broke his lips apart. His heart began to somersault in his chest with an excitement that he hadn’t experienced in a very, very long time.

Finally! 

She was giving up on whatever stupid fucking game she had decided to play with him. He’d be sure to remember her cruelty when it was his turn to have her writhing and wailing!

Just as he had begun to reach for her waist so that he could lift her into his lap, she had started to reach toward him instead. 

“A taste, right?” she asked, now presenting two glistening fingers just before him. 

His brow twitched as he stared down at them. Before he could even make the decision, his mouth had made it for him, taking her divinely sullied digits between his lips, tongue desperate for the honor of making them clean. At this same instant, Allie had taken his cock into her warm mouth once more and not a second later, did she find herself swallowing down the streams of cum that he’d abruptly begun to shoot into her mouth. Panting and moaning and whimpering through release, he continued to lap and suck at her honied fingers. 

There would be a time for him to get upset at the state of himself, but for how, he would ride it out. With his free hand, he pressed her head down until he felt her lips quiver against his pelvis and was met with a gag. Even then, he held her there so that his dick remained as deep in her mouth as he’d been housing her fingers. It wasn’t until he’d begun to feel her arm stiffen in his grip that he’d decided to release her. 

Drool ran along the underside of her forearm and she raised to meet his spent gaze. Her full, two-tone lips were swollen and parted, big brown eyes reddened and glistening with tears that wouldn’t fall and her dimples deep, as pride lifted her cheeks, happy with the results of her sick little experiment.

“Any good?” she asked.

“‘Any good?’” His brows furrowed as he reached for her, still panting. “Babe, that might’ve been the hottest thing you’ve ever done.” 

“Ever?” Alyssia giggled against his neck when he made quick work of placing her on his lap. “Dirty old man!”

“‘Scuse me?” he asked. “You’re the one shoving your fingers into my mouth! Where’d you get an idea like that anyway?”

“Came to me in a dream, I guess.” she shrugged, freeing his hair from the tie that had barely been hanging on. 

“That so?” he asked, pressing kisses against her collarbone. “And tell me, how’d the dream end? Did the lucky guy get a taste of the real thing?”

“If he looked anything like you, he might’ve.” she teased, caressing the sides of his face and laughing when he winced at her insinuation.

“You know how much I hate a cliffhanger...” he said, flipping her onto her back. “And you know how much I fuckin’ hate being teased–”

“Akira–!” she yelped as he snatched the bottoms of her lingerie set off. 

He lowered between her legs, pressing his lips to the left calf as he hiked it over his shoulder causing her to shudder. 

Fingers trembling against her face, Allie stands before the reflections in the oversized mirror. The corners of her lips twitch with a combination of nervousness and anticipation. Brown almond shaped eyes veer back and forth between themselves and the higher almond gaze that is pinched with impatience, perhaps even mild annoyance. The heat from the heavy sigh that has been building within his chest for the last 30 seconds brushes against her elbow angled toward him.

“Seriously, babe, it’s no different than a bandaid. Just rip that shit!” he groans.

Using her index finger and thumb, she continues to clench the thin sheet of plastic pressed against one side of her upper lip. “Bullshit, it’s no different than a bandaid!” she argues, “You try doin’ this and tell me that you’re gonna be eager to rip it off!”

Akira sighs again, “Here, just let me–”

Allie leans away from his outstretched hand, rattled nerves apparent in her laughter. “No way!”

“Babe, just–”

“No–”

He stands behind her, meeting her widened eyes in the mirror as he presses a soothing touch to her abdomen with one hand and shoos away her pinched fingers with the other. His breath trembles the flyaways at the crown of her curly head, “Don’t look at yourself. Look up, right at me, okay?”

Hesitating, her eyes shift between her own and then his before finally settling on his handsome features, softened now as if he is doing so intentionally to ease her nerves. 

“Tilt your head.” 

And she does. 

“Alright. One, two–”

She bounces on the tips of her toes, her back brushing against his hard torso. “No, no! Don’t count, please! Just do it. Just rip it. I don’t wanna know when to expect it.” Her speech is shaped by the tightness of her lip.

“Alright.” he concedes, and he notices that she’s begun to watch his hands. “Nuh-uh, look at me. Look in my eyes.”

“Sorry.”

Pressed into him, she feels his muscles contract as he prepares to rip at the strip before she lets out a shrill screech that rings throughout the bathroom. Once more, the man sighs. 

“Allie, I don’t know why you won’t be done with this wax strip crap and just get electrolysis.”

“Because I’m SCARED, Akira!” She attempts to frown at his reflection, but the only real indicator is in her forehead. “I keep telling you that!”

“This scares you!”

“No, it doesn’t!” her brows twitch.

He tilts his head, shooting her a doubtful look before pretending as if he’s about to pull the strip and she shrieks. 

“U-huh, keep telling yourself that...” he laughs as he guides his index finger along the strip to smooth it in case it had shifted from her drama, then ever so slightly urges her to tilt her head. “By the way, I made reservations for the hot pot place since it’s the weekend. That way we won’t have to wait.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t even kn–”

SCHRIIIIP! 

“HOLY– fuck! Dude, what the fuck?” she yells, pounding her fist against the white countertop before reaching to soothe her burning upper lip and scowling at his reflection.

Unaware of her stare and wholly unaffected by her dramatics, Akira studies the aftermath left behind on the wax strip until the bathroom door slides, opening with a fury. 

“What the hell are you two doing in here?” Masato asks, brown eyes darting between the pair in an attempt to quickly answer his own question. “I could hear you from downstairs!”

Allie attempts to jam her elbow back into the man who had been pressed firmly behind her, but he’s already begun to maneuver to her opposite side by the time her arm is in motion. Akira casts a quick glance at the man glaring at him from the doorway before turning his attention to the counter, in search of the clean strip. 

“Why is her face red?”

“Is it?” she leans into the mirror, then sighs. “It is! Akira, look what you did!”

“Babe, your lip always reddens like that when you do this.” he says, eye pinching once again in annoyance. “C’mere.”

Despite his clipped tone, he is gentle as he adjusts her head to apply the second wax strip. Growing more confused than concerned, the furrows in Masato’s brows deepen as he takes a step forward to get a better look. 

“What’s this?” he asks. “Why are you putting tape on her face?”

“It’s not tape,” Akira clicks his tongue as he shoots another glance at the larger man, “idiot... Allie, be still. God.”

“Sorry, okay– fine, so I am a little scared!”

“She admits it…” Akira says in a bored tone but there is an amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“Who cares? Geeeeez!” she whines, then shifts her attention to her worried lover’s reflection. “It’s okay, Masa. You can relax, my love. We’re just waxing my caterpillar.”

“Waxing your– You were yelling like he was hurting you.” he says, doing his best to lower his voice against his initial instinct to yell as the knots in his belly begin to unravel. 

Akira crosses his arms and ankles as he rests against the counter for a moment, snapping his head at Masato. “Well, it does hurt, jackass. It’s wax! It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose. Besides, she was in here alone for like, 5 minutes because she couldn’t just do it herself.”

Unphased by the attitude cast in his direction, he studies the new “tape” pressed against her 

upper lip. Internally, it makes him cringe. 

“Well, maybe she shouldn’t do it at all,” he says. 

Her bushy brows, also on the agenda for grooming, pinch together as she attempts to frown again. “No way! Then, I’d have more facial hair than you!”

Akira shrugs his shoulders as he lifts his palms with the ‘it’s out of our hands, bro’ expression that always comes when he knows there is no convincing her then, he laughs. Masato lets out a long, trembling sigh, shaking his head and then stiffens when he sees Akira reaching for an end of the plastic strip. 

“I can’t watch this,” he says. 

“Well, good. Get out…” Akira responds, returning to his position behind her instead of standing at her side. “You’re distracting her anyway.”

Masato spits a curse at him, but turns toward the door. 

“Wait– No,” Akira gasps as an idea hits him. “Maybe you should stay!”

“No way, man!” His deep voice calls, already further down the hall than expected. “I’m not watching that shit!”

“Come baaaack, Masaaa–”

SCHRIIIIP! 

“OOOWWW, Akira!” she yells through gritted teeth, before falling into a laughing fit. “Seriously, what the fuck?!”

Pleased with himself, Akira studies the strip and Allie doesn’t miss the smirk on his face despite how small it may have been.

“That was low.” she accuses, finally turning to face the taller man. “Even for you!”

“Yeah, well…” he shrugs, then turns toward the freestranding medicine cabinet just past the soaking tub on a hunt for an oil to soothe the burn and remove the leftover residue.

He is unaware of her silently tailing him until he turns to face her, oil in hand. The short woman lunges toward him, arms and legs wrapping around his neck and waist, causing him to slightly stumble but he quickly regains his footing. The glass bottle clanks against the porcelain tile, but thankfully doesn’t shatter.

“Allie, what the–!”

Adam’s apple bobbing as he laughs from the feeling of her warm breath tickling his neck while she pretends to bite him and attack him.

“St– fuckin’ stop!” he laughs, fingers digging into her thighs in a way that makes it clear that he had no true desire for her to really stop. “You made me drop the fucking oil, woman!”

“Who cares! I’m kickin’ yer ass, Nishikiyama!” she jokes in her best attempt at Kansai-ben. 

“Let’s go, then.” He huffs as he rushes them against the bathroom counter, capturing her lips in a sticky, mood-disrupting kiss. A smirk curls his lips yet again as he breaks away from her, but not without the resistance of the wax residue. 

Embarrassed, she giggles, brushing the long bang from its entanglement in his long lashes. “Mmm, maybe we do need the oil after all…”

The sinking feeling in the pit of Allie's stomach swelled with each step. She’d done everything she could to distract herself during the much too short walk from the bedroom to the home gym. She began with admiring, for the millionth time, the dark koi stretched across the expanse of his well-defined back. When that didn’t work, she began to count its scales. Then, when she realized that she had started over at five, five times, she opted to count how many steps were left from the middle of the hallway to the gym. 

Masato checked over his shoulder to gauge her demeanor before opening the door. 

“You sure you want to do this today, amor?” Masato asked. “We can give it a couple more weeks.”

She let out a great exhale before nodding her head. Casting his gaze across her face once more, he nodded back and led her inside.

The gym was cold.

Bone-chilling.

She couldn’t tell if it was nerves, if the A/C had been turned on or maybe due to the lack of body heat up until this point. She couldn’t be bothered to investigate. Allie took her bottom lip between her teeth and gnawed as she sought out the reason behind her anxiety. 

Despite being so low to the ground, the device often seemed greater than her. It knew too much. It told her who she was. It determined how she felt– her worth, even… At least, it used to. Formerly, she had forfeited her power to a thing that would never know her name, never utter a word to her and she had become determined to take it back. 

She just… needed a little support along the way.

Masato tapped his ankle sock-clad foot on the glass surface to activate the device and when he spotted the black number, he turned to study her once more. 

“Are you sure that you want to do this today?”

“Yes, Masa.” she sighed, playfully nudging him aside so that she could step forward. 

“Absolutely not.” he interrupted, spinning her with a gentle hand. “Face the other wall.”

Allie frowned, “Again?”

“Yes, again.” he replied, reaching for the pen and small black leather bound notepad that had been stored in his gym short pocket.

She pouted and intended to reach for his hand, but he jerked away instinctively to prevent her from grabbing the notepad.

“A small peek at the scale isn’t gonna hurt me, right? I wanna see my progress!” 

The corners of his eyes wrinkled as he flipped through the notepad , “Except it has hurt you. Besides, you see your progress everyday when you look in the mirror, right? Or when you slip into your favorite jeans– the way your shirts have been fitting you...”

“Yeah, but–”

“You don’t really need this to track your progress, Allie. You want this so that you can obsess.” he said matter of factly, his speech slightly muddled from the pen cap he’d taken between his teeth. “I’ll show you when I think you can handle it.” 

Tnk. Tnk. Tnk.

“I don’t know if I think that makes any sense… Nor do I think it’s fair.” Allie complained, brown eyes drifting toward the pen cap he’d accidentally dropped on the floor and he quickly ordered her to ignore it. 

“Well, personally, I don’t think it’s fair to my girl when you stand in front of the mirror criticizing her waist just because she’s a little bloated.” he said, curling his fingers in toward himself in a beckoning gesture. “Head up, face the mirror on the other side of the room and step back.”

She complied. 

“Good. One more..”

Again. 

“Good. Hold, just like that for a sec.” he said, then began to jot something down on the page. It took him slightly longer than usual for him to finish, causing her anxiety to surge further. 

“Masa…” she whined, turning toward him. 

“Hold on, Allie. I’m just writing a small note.” 

The woman groaned, staring at her pouting face from across the room. Part of her hated that she couldn’t steal a glance at those mystical numbers from there. 

“Could you at least tell me if it’s good or bad?” 

“Promise me that if I do you won’t accuse me of lying.” he said, finally flipping the notepad shut and kneeling to pick up the pen cap from the floor.

“I promise! Just rip off the bandaid already, please! I’m dying here.” she sobbed playfully. 

He guided her off of the scale, keeping her facing the opposite direction until it cleared entirely and then pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips. 

“It’s good, amor. You’re making amazing progress.” he smiled, thumbing away the prominent curl obscuring her right eye so that he could take her in. “I’m so, so proud of you.”

“Really?” 

“Of course I am!” 

“So, ya gonna let me read what you wrote today?” 

He let out a belly laugh then, cupped her cheek with his palm. “Nope… But, if you can get through the entire day remembering that your period is right around the corner before you complain about how ‘big’ you look around the waist, I just may read it to you.” 

“Ugh!” Allie groaned, “That’s so mean!”

“One day, you’ll look back on the way you used to criticize yourself and you’ll thank me for being so ‘mean’.”

“I doubt it~!” she sang teasingly as she skipped her way over to retrieve her mat. 

Sweat dripped down her body as she trembled above the mat. He has never pushed her as hard as he had tonight, but it was her own fault. She asked for this. Her palms had grown so damp that she could barely support herself under his harsh commands and just when she felt herself beginning to collapse, he slipped one massive palm beneath her abdomen and ran the other along the soaked fabric covering her back. 

“You’ve got this, amor!” he cheered, removing his supportive touch. “Give me your best!”

“Masa, I can’t! This position is too hard.”

“Just breath, Allie.” Masato said, “And stop clenching so much. Relax your muscles for me.”

“All I can do is clench!”

“Breath…” 

She pushed out a long exhale, doing her best to fight against her muscles’ pleas to end the torment. 

“3. 2. And time!” he called, and she immediately allowed her body to crash onto the mat. 

“Ugh!” she groaned, panting. “Never. Again.”

The burly man chuckled as he kneeled beside her with an offering of cool water. “Same time tomorrow, right?”

“Masa, can we please remove planking from the routine? I hate it so much.” Allie asked, taking the water and with a huff, lifted herself to sit on her sore bum. 

“You only hate it because you haven’t worked your upper body as much as you should. You’ll get used to it in no time.” He smiled gently, offering a hand to lift her to her feet which she accepted. 

He unrolled a small, damp towel wrapped in plastic and gestured for her to either wipe her face or step closer so that he could do so for her. Not wanting to lift her arms another second, she stepped forward. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it, baby. It’s been weeks.” She spoke from beneath the cool towel. 

“You will. I believe in you.”

“Oh, so you believing in me is supposed to magically change things?” 

He turned toward the laundry hamper and shot the towel inside from the center of the gym with ease. 

“It’s worked before, right?”

She let out a long sigh, then her lips curled into a goofy smile. “I guess.”

Returning her smile, he reached to cradle the back of her head, taking a bundle of damp braids between his fingers and pulled her into his embrace. Masato kissed the crown of her head, impervious to the sweat each peck left on his lips, then began to whisper more words of encouragement.

“You’re doing your best, amor. So long as you’re doing your best, I’ll be right here beside you to cheer you on.”

Instead of responding the way she usually did, she laughed against his chest. 

“What’s so funny?”

“Sorry, I just got the craziest visual.”

“Do I want to know?” he asked, running his fingers through her braids as if he never intended to release her from his firm hold around her. 

“I just… I imagined you here during my next training session in a cheerleader’s uniform.” she continued to laugh.

This time it was Masato who let out a sigh, “Yeah… We’re not doing that.” 

It had been so long since she fell into the oversized bed without at least one of the guys there to take her into their warm embrace. When she saw them off at noon, she didn’t think that she’d be able to survive the silence, but after a few glasses of wine, hours of uninterrupted solo karaoke, a couple of bone chilling movies and a big, buttery bowl of popcorn Allie began to wonder why she didn’t shove those two out of the door more often! 

She checked her phone for what felt like the 100th time this evening– still no messages…

Maybe Akira and Masato managed to have as much fun without her as she did without them. Good for them, she thought as she sank her bonnet protected head into the satin pillow. 

So plush. So comfy. So quiet… 

Perhaps she could get used to this!

Just as she allowed the wine to ease her into a deep slumber, a slam rattled the bedroom door and frightened her out of her sleep. She checked the time: 4:17am. Her heart lurched. 

She slipped out of bed, then kneeled beside it to dig out the metal bat she stashed just as the guys left in case of an emergency. When she heard a couple of muffled voices ascending from downstairs, she left the bat and stood to her feet. Allie could recognize that bickering anywhere, even from down the hall.

She allowed herself to settle onto the mattress again but was quickly back on her feet once the door opened and the overhead light flickered on to reveal two lightly battered men whose clothing were in varying states of dishevelment: Akira, whose long hair had been loosely tied into a low bun was now free and framed the sides of his face showing off the thin streaks of gray that he preferred to hide. His sleek, black on navy on black Canali ensemble that had been perfectly creased and tucked before, was now just a partially buttoned navy shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbow, partially tucked into black slacks while the black sport coat was nowhere to be found and his usually unblemished face was now marked by a busted lip. 

Then, there was Masato, whose brown herringbone patterned button down polo shirt had been missing the few buttons he actually did secure before leaving. His crisp, well fitted, cream colored pants accessorized with a nice leather belt were now wrinkled and littered with concerning stains. His perfectly brushed and styled hair was now slicked back with either water or sweat and what wasn’t dangled gently against his forehead and though his bruising was less visible than Akira’s, he too sported a couple of battle scars of his own.

Her mind flooded with questions, but from the pinched expression on Akira’s face as he carefully guided the taller man, whose heavy arm had been slung around his neck, over to the bed, she figured many of them out on her own. 

“I’m assuming one of you will fill me in on what happened…”

Once he positioned Masato closer to the bed, he flicked his arm off of him and the man fell into the plush of layers with a grunt and zero semblance of concern for maintaining upright posture. 

“This fucking gorilla happened.” Akira said, stretching his arms out then overhead. 

Allie stroked the side of Masato’s face. He fluttered his heavy eyes up to meet hers and his lips curled. In his smile, she could see that he had no regrets for whatever led them to this moment. 

When she turned to Akira, he was attempting to rub away the tender spot in his neck brought on by Masato’s dead weight. Just as she had done with her fully reclined partner, she caressed the side of Akira’s face while studying the condition of his split lip. 

“Your poor faces…” she muttered, eyebrows needling together as she thought against pressing her lips against them.

Behind her, Masato had managed to pull himself up into a seat but he couldn’t hide his sway if he wanted to– but he didn’t care to.

“You should see the other guys,” he said. 

“‘Guys?’” she emphasized, turning to him until Akira’s voice stole her attention again. 

“As in plural.” 

“As in– You guys got into a brawl?” she asked, unable to contain her shock. “During the event at Koibar?”

The guys had put so much effort into making sure that Koibar’s reputation remained above board despite the rumors floating around in the city about what lives they retired from before going into business together. It was unthinkable that they would allow violence there, let alone be a part of it!

“We left the event hours ago. The fight happened at some other bullshit place he made me take him to.” Akira’s hands found his hips as he shook his head and sighed, “I should’ve followed my first mind and drove somewhere else. I had a bad feeling from the start.”

“Well, the spot is shitty, buuut their food is immaculate.” Masato slurred. 

“‘Immaculate,’” Akira repeated, “Immaculate? The bastard gets drunk and starts sayin’ shit like ‘Immaculate’. You hearing this?”

Instead of responding, Allie sank into bed beside the other man and examined the stains. 

“Masa, baby, you’ve got blood all over your pants… your shirt, too.”

He looked down at himself as if she had just revealed brand new information to him, “Well… Some of it may be wing sauce. I dunnnno.”

Akira chuckled, shaking his head again. “Babe, this guy was unbelievable! He practically took on the entire bar by himself– the fucker! He barely even needed me… It’s been so long since we saw some real action, I sort of forget what sort of beast lies within.”

His tired gaze flicked over Masato who was pressing laggy kisses against Allie’s bare shoulder, completely oblivious to his praise, just as he suspected. 

“Especially when this is all I see.” he muttered, quickly working at the buttons on his shirt. “He’s like a clingy ass mutt around you. No bark, no bite.”

“Ssshut up, man. Gaaahd.”

“Would it make you feel better if he powerbombed me from time to time?” Allie joked, combing her fingertips through the short of Masato’s hair.

He shrugged off the navy shirt, then effortlessly tossed it into the hamper near the closet. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I’ll never powerbomb you, amorzinho.” he slurred, resting his warm face against her arm, his stubble prickling her skin.

She chuckled, patting at his cheek. “I know, baby.”

“I’m gonna go shower.” Akira said, turning on his heels. “See to it that the big lug doesn’t bust his ass in there. He can barely stand.”

As if he was set on proving the older man wrong, he lifted himself off the bed and immediately let gravity throw him back again. Accepting his fate, he simply laid there.

“Wow, Masa. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you this wasted before.”

“We played a drinking game… and shotsss.” 

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight at least?” she asked. 

He seemed to think about it for a moment, “Well, I enjoyed having a night out with him that wasn’t about work, but I think I have more fun when I get to spend my nights with you… You should’ve come with us.”

“But then, it wouldn’t have been a boys night out. Besides, my days of fighting alongside you two are long gone.”

“I would’ve protected you.”

“I know you would have, but that wasn't my point.”

Masato pulled himself upright once again, then lazily attempted to toss his ankle over his knee and missed. Without missing a beat, Allie sank to the floor and began to help him out of his shoes. When she looked up to speak, she was met with an expression she’s witnessed countless times but never tires of. In a moment, it was as if his intoxication was replaced with a clarity that only comes when he meets her eyes. Both the curve at his lips and the crinkle at the corners of his eyes were soft as he looked down at her. 

“I have the prettiest wife in the world,” and with that single phrase, she was reminded of his drunken state. Instead of correcting him, she simply bowed her head sheepishly and laughed. 

“Thank you, Masa.”

She turned to toss his shoes into the open closet, she imagined that Akira was dealing with enough when he lugged him in and couldn’t be bothered to help him out of them at the front door. When she turned to face him again, his expression had hardened. 

“You look so pretty down there...” he said, clumsily caressing her cheek. “I love you, you know.”

“I do know.”

“Do you know that I thought about you all night?”

“Did you now?”

Masato took his thick bottom lip between his teeth for a moment as he quickly mulled over his next words, “I thought about you being in this big empty bed all night and I wanted to rush home to fill it with you– to fill you in it, to feel you in it.”

Something flashed across her features, but she bounced back quickly. “You’re so drunk it’s not even funny, Masa.”

Allie rose to her feet and he took the opportunity to wrap his arms around her waist, burying his face against the plush part of her belly. 

“I am… Take advantage of me, right now.”

She laughed, running her fingers through his soft, dark hair. “Not tonight, baby. Why don’t we take advantage of the master bath instead?”

“‘We?’” 

“Maybe, if you can behave. I can soak with you.”

He hummed against her and she continued, “We’ll get some food and fluids in your system so that the only thing you’ll feel when you wake up later is a slightly upset stomach and maybe that knot on your eyebrow– did you... get hit in the face with something?”

“Mhmm, a chair.”

“You were hit in the face with a chair, yet you’re thinking about sex?”

His laugh vibrated against her. 

“They could carve me out with my own sword and I’d still want you, amor.”

“Well, aren’t you a romantic!” she said, carefully prying his arms from around her waist. “Now, stay here. I’m gonna run down and make you guys something light and bring some waters up so that you don’t have to come down, okay?”

“‘Kay…”

They had been at the kitchen island for half an hour or so, chatting and sipping their morning tea and coffee as they waited for Masato to come down for breakfast. Allie’s heel bounced against the footrest of her seat and while she traced the rim of her coffee cup, she stared at the droplet that blended with the brown veining on the otherwise white quartz countertop. She should clean it, she thought but she can’t seem to take action. Suddenly, she felt herself shift closer to Akira. He had lured her over by her seat with little effort.

“Oi,” he whispered against her temple, voice still so very thick with sleep. “Don’t be so nervous. You’re gonna do great.”

She registered every word. She felt the gentle peck against the side of her face and yet, she still couldn’t snap out of it. 

“Maybe,” she managed.

“C’mere, babe.” he muttered through his teeth, deciding that he had no choice but to force her out of this daze. He tenderly captured her chin and guided her to face him. “What I need is for you to be positive, alright? You’re a great driver. Better than me, even. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I could… wreck a company car.” she said, almost as if it were a question.

“No, you won’t, babe!” he smiled. “Just drive it like it’s yours and you’ll be fine.”

Usually she would melt into him when he held her this closely. Today, though, she was tense from head to toe. Perhaps layering coffee atop this level of anxiety was a mistake? 

“Allie, I want you to take a deep breath.” he said, stroking at her soft jawline. 

“Like, right now?”

“Like, right now.”

Finally acknowledging the lack of space between them, she frowned. “But, I probably have coffee breath.”

The corners of his eyes lifted as he laughed. “I think I can handle it.”

It took a moment, but she did eventually bring herself to do it, ignoring the way his shaggy wisps swayed in her wind. With a smile, he cradled the back of her head with his palm and guided her in for a smooch. 

“Good girl.”

“Mornin’,” Masato managed through a yawn that seemed to hit the moment he crossed the threshold. The depth of his early morning voice started her out of Akira’s kiss. So, he smiled against her cheek instead.

“Good mornin’, Masa.”

“Nice of you to finally show up. I’m starving.” Akira complained.

“Well, how could that be?” he said, joining her at her side and slipping his arms around her waist. “From where I stood, it seemed to me like you were already in the middle of having breakfast.”

“Jealous?” 

“Pfft, you wish.” Masato snickered before luring her gaze up by the chin and stealing a kiss of his own. He could never get his day started without one.

To avoid the mild embarrassment of being referred to as a man’s breakfast, she spoke up to change the conversation. “I made coffee. Why don’t you have some?”

“Gladly.” he said, stealing one last kiss before finally slinking off to collect his favorite mug.

“Masato,” Akira began, eyeing the smooth pour of his coffee. “You’ve got perfect timing.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, so, you know she starts the new job today, right?”

He returned the carafe to the hot plate then twisted off the lids for the powdered cream and sugar. He liked his coffee sweet, sweeter than most and they often wondered if there was a science to getting it to his taste because try as they might, neither Allie or Akira could nail it. They watched him drop heap after heaping heap of sugar and creamer into his coffee and tried to mentally figure out the measurements.

“Right,” he stirred the lawless concoction.

Akira gripped at her thigh and smiled, “Seems our girl’s worried she’s gonna mess it up somehow.”

Masato tasted his coffee, then added three more spoonfuls of sugar before looking over at her as he stirred it again.

“So, you’re nervous?”

“A little.”

“Have you taken your medication?”

“I did.”

“That was coffee in there, right?” he asked gesturing at the counter.

“Yeah, and it's her second cup.” Akira answered for her in the same way a child might to rat on a sibling to a parent.

“Amor…”

“I know…”

“Right, well, I won’t lecture you but what exactly are you nervous about?” he asked, finally drinking his coffee as it was now, perfect.

They were no closer to understanding.

Gripping at the supportive hand resting on her thigh, she restated all of the anxieties she mentioned to Akira not long before. After a few minutes of this, there is a furrow between Masato’s brows that tells her that like Akira, he too believes that what she was concerned about were non-issues.

Though, he wouldn’t quite phrase it that way.

“Stop tormenting yourself, amor. You’re a professional driver– experienced. You’re gonna be fine.”

As Akira spoke, his thumb kneaded into the plush of her thigh. “That’s more or less what I said.”

Masato sat his mug on the counter, then turned to rummage through the fridge to collect the ingredients for breakfast. “Besides, you’re a better driver than he is. If it were him we were talking to, this would be a completely different conversation.”

“Oi, oi.” Akira groaned, “I wanted you to talk her down, not talk shit about me! Why do you keep acting like I’m a bad driver?”

He popped open a carton of eggs to see how many were left, “Eh, you could probably be better.”

“The hell?! You don’t even drive! What do you know?” 

“Why should I when I’ve got you guys to chauffeur me around?” he said, mirth softening his words.

“See, that’s why she calls you a passenger princess!”

“Passenger, who? What’s that?”

Akira is begrudgingly pushing the cart as the other man’s eyes scan the aisles ahead of him. Masato reaches for a bottle of mirin, but Akira grabs a different brand, at a higher price. 

Akira: No, dude, get this one. It’s better.

Masato: What– why? This is the one we always get.

Akira: That’s cheap shit. It’s not gonna taste as good. Get this one.

Masato: I’ve been using this same “cheap shit” for 20 years. It’s fine. You’ve never complained in all the times I’ve used it.

Akira: Yeah, but–

Masato: Okay, tell me three things it’s used for and then we can get it…

Akira: Oi, what are you trying to say? I cook!

Masato: When was the last time you cooked?

Akira: *rolling his eyes* Whatever– Forget it.

Masato: Already did. *puts the bottle in their cart*

AKIRA & ALLIE

He’s not the one she would ask to tag along when they’re in need of some household items and groceries. She understands that he doesn’t really enjoy it and he (mentally) acknowledges that he doesn’t contribute much because he trusts that she’s “got it”. He never minds chauffeuring her around and keeping her company, though. He's more in his element when she’s in need of something new to wear! Sometimes, he whisks her away to join him. He’s always so full of life when shopping for stuff like that together. 

He loves coordinating their clothes and accessories together. Hell, he’s even bought her the perfume that pairs with his colognes! He takes full advantage of the opportunity to play dress up. If Akira is involved, chances are Allie is walking out with more items than she originally intended. She trusts his opinion 100% and he eats it up! 

He tries to be considerate when he’s picking things for her. He never grabs things that he knows will be out of her comfort zone. Though, he might ask her to indulge him by trying something in the dressing room for the sake of curiosity (and his entertainment). He’s not allowed in the dressing room with her though, because he doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself or offer a simple “Wow, that looks nice.” He has to show how much he likes it– and she’s not always strong enough to push him away.

MASATO & ALLIE

They both have their strengths and weaknesses! Masato isn’t big on shopping for fun. He will do it if he’s genuinely so bored that he has nothing better to do. He enjoys watching her try stuff on too but his patience with it only goes so far. He’s definitely better suited for errand related shopping. He enjoys the domesticity of it! It makes him feel like he managed to achieve the life people dearest to him wanted him to have. 

Grocery shopping with him is always a team effort. It’s quicker than going alone. They keep each other focused and he makes sure she doesn't buy too many unnecessary items– stuff that he knows will just go to waste. Of the pair, he’s got the better memory. It’s likely because he always writes down things after they’ve run out or when things are low. 

He’s super sweet about everything too. He always goes for the stuff out of reach without her needing to ask, or picks up the stuff he knows will take her a bit of effort. Sometimes if she’s being bratty about wanting to do things herself, he’ll lift or he’ll simply spot her to make sure she’s not overexerting herself. 

When they’re just standing in an aisle and trying to make a decision, he'll wrap his arms around her and sway side to side while teasing her about how long she’s been contemplating. He’s sooo affectionate. He’ll offer to carry the basket or push the cart just so that she’s free to hold hands. Fellow shoppers likely find them to be obnoxious.

AKIRA, MASATO & ALLIE

They’re not much different when they’re together. Masato may tone down his affection to avoid the extra attention because he knows it makes her anxious. One moment people see her holding hands with Masato while Akira leans in to kiss her. The next Akira’s hugging her while Masato moves a curl from in front of her face. Also, sticking them in settings where they don’t exactly ‘thrive’ will only make them bicker. Masato will get moody because the others are taking too long browsing the sales rack. Akira will start complaining when Masato and Allie won’t just pick a damn bag of beans. It’s a whole thing. 

-Before moving in together, phone calls were their main method of communication but it never stopped him from sending a cute good morning/good night text every day! She still gets them every now and then but the infrequency makes her a little sad. Though... If she just told him how she felt, he would likely go back to that– even if they’re laying in bed together!

-He tends to shorten his texts when it makes sense to, opting out of using words like, “I” or “It” when it appears in the beginning of a sentence. So, “I’ll see you soon.” will become, “See you soon.” or “It wasn’t in there.” would be, “Wasn’t there.” Stuff like that!

-He uses emojis in a way that is sort of jarring– at least it was to Allie when they first exchanged numbers. She just never imagined that such a big, mean-looking dude who looks like the physical embodiment of machismo would be sending texts littered with 😍😘💘.

-The amount of time it takes for him to respond to a message used to give her soooo much anxiety! She will never get back the hours of life she wasted, paralyzed by nerves in the beginning because she was worried that she said something he didn’t like or she made things awkward. She has since come to terms with the fact that he is simply a slow texter and unless he has sent something that requires an immediate response like “Hungry?”/ “Where are you?”, he will sit the phone down somewhere and forget until it crosses his mind that he hasn’t gotten a response yet.

-His texting speed is pretty bad too but it used to be worse when he used a smaller phone. Now, he’s got a phone with a wide enough screen and the ability to adjust his keyboard size! So, his huge thumbs aren’t clumsily mashing the wrong keys and contributing to the most incomprehensible typos known to man– now, those typos are all~ him, baby!

-He’s a huge fan of receiving audio messages, especially when they’ve been apart for a while. He won’t outright ask for one but he’ll text something like, “Miss your voice” and she will immediately get the hint. She could send him an 8 minute rant that was maybe a minute and a half of actual substance and the other six and a half as pure unnecessary rambling and he will still listen to every second, heart react and/or send a string of indecipherable emojis. It’s pure madness! 

-While he may enjoy receiving audios, he’s not all too keen on sending them– at least, he wasn’t. If he wanted to talk on his phone, he’d much prefer to just make the phone call. There’s something about talking to his phone with the intention of getting a response but not hearing one immediately that he just doesn’t like. These days, if it’s for Allie, he does it without even thinking about it. Some mornings, she may wake up to an empty bed but when she rolls over to check her phone, there will be a sweet audio message waiting for her. 

-He uses all emojis genuinely– very rarely does he use them for innuendo. 

-He once sent a text that said, “Amor, you in the mood for 🍆 tonight? 😍” And Allie, not realizing that they were speaking two different languages, responded with something horribly risque and he was like, “Didn’t expect you to be this excited but OK! 👍 Just found the perfect recipe. Let’s try making it together” Then, she had to be the one to admit that she thought he was talking about sex and that she hates eggplant! Meanwhile, he’s looking down at her, confused with a bag full of groceries– fresh eggplant included! SO EMBARRASSING! 

-When apart, he’ll send sweet messages out of the blue like, “Thinking of you”, “Can’t wait to see you” and “Proud of you”. It doesn’t really matter what sort of day she’s having, those types of texts go such a long way.

-He hardly ever corrects his typos which is insane because they can be so egregious that not even context clues will tell her what the hell that man is on about! She’ll have to ask him to try again and only then, does he realize!

-He’s not one to send a string of messages. If he feels that what he’s got to say cannot fit into a single text, he’d rather just make a phone call.

-Unfortunately, he doesn’t send pictures unprompted. He doesn’t like taking photos of himself in general. A quick scroll through his camera roll would tell that much– it’s mostly Allie or the two of them. Occasionally, the older fish may appear. He finds that taking selfies are a little embarrassing and he feels awkward taking them.

TEXTING AKIRA

[Masato is the blue text]

◈ Ever since he got his first cell after prison, Akira’s name was saved under a surname. So, originally, ‘Kagari’ and after becoming more familiar with him, ‘Nishikiyama.’ He hasn’t changed it, even after finally referring to him by his given name. He hasn’t really given it any thought, but it’s likely that even if he didn’t think about it, he would leave it as it.

◈ While they do have photos of each other, they still haven’t saved one as their profile picture.

◈ Their text conversations rarely ever go anywhere unless they’re talking about work stuff or Allie. They leave each other on read a lot. In all fairness, Masato’s fault is that he simply forgets to respond and by the time he remembers, there isn’t much of a point anymore.

◈ Due to reason stated above, they opt to call each other more because it is the quickest, easiest option.

◈ One scroll through their messages would show that most of their texts are:

-Masato checking to see if Akira’s had anything to eat. -Akira figuring out Masato’s ETA so that he can drag him along somewhere. -Gym plans -KoiBar related stuff -Secret plans for Allie

[Masato is M.Allie is A. Akira is N. ]

GROUP CHAT

◈ Allie is the one that made the group chat with them and she named it, ‘The Koi Pond’, which earned an audible sigh from Masato and a dry ‘Really?’ from Akira.

◈ Strangely, the guys are more responsive in the group chat than they are in their own private messages. Oftentimes, these conversations have nothing to do with her. She has no clue why they do that.

◈ The GC is where Masato tends to drop those freaking ridiculous chain messages. He knows they’re not real but he says that he does it ‘just in case’ because ‘you can’t be too careful’. He’s too superstitious for his own good.

◈ Akira can be a bit of a drama queen when he’s feeling annoyed, jealous or ignored. So, he will leave the group chat sometimes. Masato always grills him for it when he’s added back to the chat. He thinks it’s attention seeking behavior and very, very annoying.

◈ Allie sends memes that no one but her appreciates. He does not understand the joke and he often has to have her explain which leads it to not even be funny anymore.

◈ Whether it’s serious in nature or pure jest, everyone has experienced being double teamed at least once in there.

GENERAL

◈ Before moving in together, texting was their main method of communication. He still opts to text her even while under the same roof. He’ll text her from another room when he doesn’t feel like searching for her or if he’s trying to be discreet. He even texts her while they’re in the same room. His reasoning: “Not everything’s meant for others to hear, babe.”

◈ He texts mostly in full sentences. It’s still informal though. If he’s being curt/dry, chances are he’s got an attitude about something.

◈ If he’s using punctuation all of a sudden, that’s also a tell that he’s got an attitude about something. 

◈ When he’s expecting a message, he’s quick to respond and ensures that he’s got his phone on his person so that he doesn’t miss anything. Once the conversation is over though, he’s not paying much attention to it anymore. He’s not into texting all day, non-stop. 

◈ He thinks that emojis are ugly as hell. He doesn’t like them at all. He refuses to use them. Instead, he uses kaomoji and emoticons. Allie used to use emoticons but after she made the switch to emojis, he was so annoyed by it and told her that her messages looked childish 😭. He’s pretty much over it now but he still won’t use them. If he does, it’s generally because the messenger he’s using replaced his emoticon with their emoji. (Which peeves him.)

◈ When he’s got his phone on him, he’s pretty snappy with responses! He’s even faster than Allie. He’s a little annoying about it too! He’s the reason why she has turned off her typing indicator. She’ll be texting her little heart out, next thing you know, the phone buzzes with a new message and he’s like, “Damn, babe! Are you drafting your autobiography or something?” and once she finally sends her little 4 sentences, he grills her for it. He’s so mean!!

◈ Before she showed him how to send audio, he used the speech-to-text function pretty often. He had far too much faith in that thing and rarely ever double checked what it said before hitting send. He accidentally texted, “Allie, where did you put my conditioner? Send. Send. What the fuck? Why won’t it send? SEND. Ah, there we go. No wait, fuck–” 

◈ One of her favorite things about texting him is that he never hesitates to send pictures, either of himself or to show what he’s up to. She could ask what he’s doing and he may send a picture of his half eaten meal, the view where he’s at or if she’s lucky, a foggy mirror selfie where his hair is damp and he’s got a towel hanging around his waist. She usually gets really annoyed by people sending pictures of themselves for no reason, but apparently he can do whatever he wants!

◈ He’s always asking for pictures of her! In the very beginning, her paranoia led her to believe he was only doing that in an attempt to keep tabs on her. Who knows if there’s any truth to that or not, but she has nothing to hide. Plus, the overfilled ‘Allie’  photo album in his phone is a bit of a motivator. Ulterior motive or not, she thinks it’s sweet that he’s collecting a bajillion photos of her! 🥺

[Akira is the grey text]

TEXTING MASATO

◈ He has had Masato’s number saved under ‘Masato’ since the start. There was never a point in time where he referred to the other man as ‘Aizawa’, he was ‘Masato-kun’ when they met and now he’s simply ‘Masato’.

◈ While they do have photos of each other, they still haven’t saved one as their profile picture.

◈ Majority of their text conversations are brief unless they’re talking about Allie or work-related things. They generally read what the other says without a reply unless absolutely necessary. As far as Akira is concerned, Masato takes too long to respond and he has little interest in waiting for him.

◈ Due to reasons stated above, they opt to call each other more because it is the quickest, easiest option.

◈ One scroll through their messages would show that most of their texts are:

-Masato checking to see if Akira’s had anything to eat. -Akira figuring out Masato’s ETA so that he can drag him along somewhere. -Gym plans -KoiBar related stuff -Secret plans for Allie

[Masato is M. Allie is A. Akira is N. ]

GROUP CHAT

◈ Allie is the one that made the group chat with them and she named it, ‘The Koi Pond’, which earned an audible sigh from Masato and a dry ‘Really?’ from Akira.

◈ Strangely, the guys are more responsive in the group chat than they are in their own private messages. Oftentimes, these conversations have nothing to do with her. She has no clue why they do that.

◈ Sometimes, when he’s being the resident drama queen because he’s annoyed or feeling ignored, he’ll just up and leave the chat. It never lasts. They reel his ass riiiiight back in.

◈ Allie sends memes that no one but her appreciates. He does not understand the joke. He does not find it funny. So sad :(

◈ Akira tries to plan outings in the chat but ultimately decides to just talk in person once everyone is home because the conversation gets derailed and there’s no hope of getting back on track.

◈ Whether it’s serious in nature or pure jest, everyone has experienced being double teamed at least once in there.