The light hurts his eyes but Tatsuya forces himself to keep them open as he waits for the haze of his vision to clear. Looking at himself in the mirror, he shakily turns the tap and reminds himself to breathe as he splashes water on his face, the echo of his nightmare still in his ears.
She's safe, he tells himself, but it takes hm a full minute before he hazards a glance to seek out where Miki's reflection shows her curled up against a pillow on his bed.
She is safe, he breathes. She is fine. And he won't ever make the mistake that cost them both Aika-nee.
The blood had made the knife's handle slick and warm and there was nothing he could do but watch as the unearthly light faded from her eyes so that it was just Miki again, looking up at him.
"I won't screw up." He whispers the words and curls his fingers around the edge of the bathroom countertop. "I won't."
Gen
He is lngering right outside the gate to the family estate with hs hands tucked into the back pockets of his jeans when he hears her call out to him.
Miki is dressed in a pair of jeans and a bright red sweater to ward off the cold.
"You shouldn't be carrying those all by yourself." Tatsuya snorts and all but marches over to take the three paper grocery bags there, in her arms.
"Okaeri, Tatsu." Miki laughs softly and they walk back to the Katori ancestral home in companionable silence.
AU
Tatsuya steps out onto the stage and surveys the empty seats in the auditorium. He can still remember the way the music all but coursed through him in that very last set, the crowd calling out for an encore.
The familiar sound of an incoming text message prompts him to reach for the mobile phone tucked into his back pocket. When he flips it open, he pauses awhile to linger over the picture he nicked from Kaoru's Facebook account to use as a wallpaper.
It's been fifteen years since he last saw her face to face, seven since they got back in touch through the use of the Internet. He wonders now if making it this far as a musician and finding his way stateside means that they can finally be together again.
Crack/Humor
He tears up the wedding invitation and in a heartbeat he has Kaoru pushed up against the wall, his fingers fisted around the much taller man's collar.
"Tatsu!" He hears Miki protest over the sudden scrape of chair legs as the rest of the team rises from wherever they are seated, but all he can think of is Kaoru's ridiculous grin as he babbled on and on about "flower arrangements" and "booking the caterer she liked" and Miki just smiling back as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.
"Tatsu, let Kaoru-kun go!"
He does, actually; and then he turns to her, sees the way she's looking at him as if he's just gone completely nuts and decides that instead of reasoning with her in the office, it would be better if he took this outsde.
They manage to make it halfway down the stairs when she wrests her hand from his grasp to demand: "What is wrong with you?" in an incredulous voice.
"What is wrong with me?!??" Tatsu doesn't bother to keep his voice down. "I should be asking that of you!"
"What are you--"
"What's wrong with you, Miki? Talking flower arrangements and wedding invitations and catering services with KAORU? Don't you know he has OCP??? I won't allow it. I don't think your brothers would allow it either. Money isn't everything. It can't buy you happiness."
"O...C...wait-- what?!??"
"Obsessive Compulsive Personality!"
But Miki looks utterly lost and --drat, Tatsu turns his attention to where Kaoru has moved on from quiet snickering to uproarious laughter, the rest of the team looking utterly flabbergasted.
Tatsuya looks back feels like an idiot. Why does he feel like an idiot?
"Tatsu..." Miki covers her mouth with one hand. "I was talking to Kaoru-kun about Oniichan's wedding this weekend."
"There's no need for you to give up your bed. I can--"
The look that he gives her prompts Miki to fall quiet.
It was too late for her to catch a train back to Saitama, but not late enough that Keiko-san couldn't call up a cab to drive her home. It would have been expensive, but money is never an issue with Kaoru around. How she managed to let Tatsu convince her to stay the night in his apartment is something Miki's still trying to figure out.
"Sit down and stay off that foot. Prop it up so that the swelling goes down."
It's difficult to argue against practical logic. Moreso since she knows that Tatsu feels guilty every single time she gets caught in the middle of one of their cases.
She doesn't lie down until she's sure he's asleep, curled up beneath a gaudy looking blanket that looks like some sort of animal print, his spiky blond hair stark against the deep red sofa cushion. She waits for his breathing to even out, and then only then does she crawl onto the mattress to curl up in beneath sheets that smell faintly of his aftershave and the comfort of home.
Pre/Post Canon
He finds her at the back lot of the school, sitting alone on some steps. Her bento is laid out neatly on the handkerchief laid on the space beside her and Tatsu cannot help but think that in spite of her nose being a little red and the tear tracks tracing odd lines down her cheeks, Miki looks utterly composed.
Not, that he plans to tell her that. Or ever, even.
"Why are you such a crybaby?" are the first words out of his mouth when we walks over to stand near her. They haven't spoken for days, not since she pinched his ear after he wouldn't leave her pigtails alone.
"Here," he fishes out the handkerchief his mother tells him to bring but that he never uses. It is the closest he can bring himself to an apology (because, you know, he did nothing wrong; it's not his fault she's so averse to bugs).
When she turns her face a little away, he mutters softly and moves to the other side. "Miki, take it." He holds the handkerchief close to her face but she pushes it away and starts packing up her unfinished lunch with hands that he realizes aren't steady at all.
This is when he notes the scrape on her hand.
"Who did this?" Her wrist is in his in a heartbeat, though he is careful not to touch the wound. The blood is dried and the cut isn't that deep, but it doesn't look like it was cleaned.
He drags her off to the sink that sits all by it's lonesome at the back of the school, ignoring her protests that he's gripping her wrist too hard.
"Tatsu, that hurts." She winces when he holds her hand under the water, but she quiets down, her shoulders hunching up a little as she bows her head as if to hide her face.
Later that afternoon, Tatsu finds himself sentenced to detention. It is the first time he's ever had to stay an hour after the final bell and he can already imagine the kind of reaction his parents will have over this mark in his otherwise perfect record. But when Miki comes by with her unfinished lunch and an ice pack from the nearby convenience store, he decides that an extra hour stuck in an otherwise empty classroom is an okay trade for making sure that the upperclassmen who tried to bully his Suzuhime into giving up her bento will never bother her again.
Hurt/Comfort
"Serves you right for baiting him."
She notes that he doesn't look up when she lifts the cold compress up to his cheek. The bruise is starting to form along Tatsuya's cheekbone, curving around the side of his eye. Tomorrow morning it'll start to show and it won't be a pretty sight to see.
"I have onii-chan's sunglasses in my bag, I'll leave them here for you to use. I don't think it'll be good for the team if you scare away clients looking like some street punk who lost a brawl."
She might have missed the words if the room wasn't so quiet. "I don't like the way he acts so freely around you."
"Wait, what?"
"Miki, you should be careful too. That brat might get the wrong idea about your concern."
She doesn't have time to protest as he slides off the table to walk past her, but not before one hand comes up to gently cup her cheek before he makes his way out the door.
He curls his fingers into fists. If he could somehow melt into the wood behind him he would. As things stand though, Tatsu is backed up against the wall with nowhere else to go. Who knew that four-inch high heels could make such a difference in Miki's height.
"I'm not attracted to you at all, you know." He manages to grit out the words even as the spirit inhabting Miki's body presses up against him, a dangerously sly smile spreading on her lips.
"Oh I know," the creature says in Miki's voice; not that Miki would talk in that tone, or wear that sorry excuse for a dress. "But I can smell your attraction, your arousal to this body. So, tell me, boy. Why not just give in?"
Smut/Kink
"Miki," Tatsuya whispers, fingers curling around her wrists. "Miki, get a hold of yourself." He moves her hands away, but she presses close, her mouth fastening on his.
"I need..."
He swallows a groan as her lips move to his cheek, his jaw, his neck. He shudders when her tongue flicks against his skin, his fingers losing their grip on her hands.
It's like liquid fire. It needs to burn out on its own. If you try to smother it, you'll only make it worse.
"I am so sorry," he whispers harshly before he cups her face in his hands and kisses her full on the mouth. He is, and he also isn't. He's spent too many nights staring at the ceiling after waking from some half-remembered dream that involved her and him and this.
Her hands are surprisingly clever as they slip under his shirt, her thumbs kneading the sides of his stomach. For a moment he feels a lance of jealousy shoot through him because they've never spoken about the people she's known from the time she was away.
He maneuvers them to the couch, his fingers threading through her hair, palms skimming down her back. When she makes a move to shed her clothes, he catches her hands in his and presses his lips to her palms.
"I want..."
He hushes her, guiding her onto his lap, his mouth pressing against hers.
She tastes so sweet, he wants to preserve that sweetness. The last thing he wants is for them to be at odds in the morning. Right now, its the potion that has set fire to the blood in her veins. Right now, it's not her acting of her own accord but because an aphrodisiac was slipped in her drink or her food.
"Why are you doing this? Why won't you--" He finds himself surprised at the bite in her voice and the way her fingers fist in his hair before she crushes her mouth against his, her tongue tasting the inside of his mouth. "I thought, when you kissed me I thought--"
The frustration is a low purr in her throat that goes straight to the pit of his stomach and Tatsuya gives in and drags her closer, as if it were not enough that they are pressed against each other like this.
"I'm not made of glass, Tatsu..."
He doesn't tell her that he knows. Instead, he smoothes his thumbs along the apples of her cheeks and kisses her again before he turns the tables so that she is beneath him, her hair falling against the cushions.
He's dreamt of this far too often for him to deny that he thinks of her that way no matter what else he says. He smoothes a hand over her stomach, a gentle pressure against the softness of her.
He's had women before. Not as many as some would think, but enough for him to know his limits, his preferences and inclinations. He knows full well that he is not a patient lover, but when his hands tremble as he catches the backs of her knees, he thinks that maybe it was that he was impatient for the real thing; the one that mattered, as if every other opportunity were just steps in a long flight of stairs leading up to this.
It is odd to think that he won't be coming back to this school after today. The ground is littered with sakura blossoms and Tatsuya hears the tolling of the final school bell. In the fall he will be in Todai, but for the next few months he is going to disappear for awhile and train. He needs to get better. His skills need to improve.
He turns around and weaves through the crowd of graduates towards the gate, to where his family is waiting.
He doesn't expect to see her; doesn't know what to feel when she smiles up at his mother and nods, her mouth forming words he can't hear.
"Isn't that Suzume-kun?"
"I thought she moved back to America after that incident on the roof. Did she really try to kill herself?"
"That's what people say. And apparently she's living with the Katori family. They're so generous, taking on a girl like her like that."
He can feel the anger rising inside of him and he quickly walks away. What do they know? Nothing. They have never had to worry about the things they cannot see, the ghosts that linger, hungry for another chance at whatever life was cut short, ready to occupy the nearest available vessel in order to fulfill their selfish desires.
ROZYN. WHAT IS THIS.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEE MASATO/REIKO ;u;
LOL NAHIYA KA PA
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I was going to request for my OTP but I want raburabu happy ending fic lmao
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The light hurts his eyes but Tatsuya forces himself to keep them open as he waits for the haze of his vision to clear. Looking at himself in the mirror, he shakily turns the tap and reminds himself to breathe as he splashes water on his face, the echo of his nightmare still in his ears.
She's safe, he tells himself, but it takes hm a full minute before he hazards a glance to seek out where Miki's reflection shows her curled up against a pillow on his bed.
She is safe, he breathes. She is fine. And he won't ever make the mistake that cost them both Aika-nee.
The blood had made the knife's handle slick and warm and there was nothing he could do but watch as the unearthly light faded from her eyes so that it was just Miki again, looking up at him.
"I won't screw up." He whispers the words and curls his fingers around the edge of the bathroom countertop. "I won't."
Gen
He is lngering right outside the gate to the family estate with hs hands tucked into the back pockets of his jeans when he hears her call out to him.
Miki is dressed in a pair of jeans and a bright red sweater to ward off the cold.
"You shouldn't be carrying those all by yourself." Tatsuya snorts and all but marches over to take the three paper grocery bags there, in her arms.
"Okaeri, Tatsu." Miki laughs softly and they walk back to the Katori ancestral home in companionable silence.
AU
Tatsuya steps out onto the stage and surveys the empty seats in the auditorium. He can still remember the way the music all but coursed through him in that very last set, the crowd calling out for an encore.
The familiar sound of an incoming text message prompts him to reach for the mobile phone tucked into his back pocket. When he flips it open, he pauses awhile to linger over the picture he nicked from Kaoru's Facebook account to use as a wallpaper.
It's been fifteen years since he last saw her face to face, seven since they got back in touch through the use of the Internet. He wonders now if making it this far as a musician and finding his way stateside means that they can finally be together again.
Crack/Humor
He tears up the wedding invitation and in a heartbeat he has Kaoru pushed up against the wall, his fingers fisted around the much taller man's collar.
"Tatsu!" He hears Miki protest over the sudden scrape of chair legs as the rest of the team rises from wherever they are seated, but all he can think of is Kaoru's ridiculous grin as he babbled on and on about "flower arrangements" and "booking the caterer she liked" and Miki just smiling back as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.
"Tatsu, let Kaoru-kun go!"
He does, actually; and then he turns to her, sees the way she's looking at him as if he's just gone completely nuts and decides that instead of reasoning with her in the office, it would be better if he took this outsde.
They manage to make it halfway down the stairs when she wrests her hand from his grasp to demand: "What is wrong with you?" in an incredulous voice.
"What is wrong with me?!??" Tatsu doesn't bother to keep his voice down. "I should be asking that of you!"
"What are you--"
"What's wrong with you, Miki? Talking flower arrangements and wedding invitations and catering services with KAORU? Don't you know he has OCP??? I won't allow it. I don't think your brothers would allow it either. Money isn't everything. It can't buy you happiness."
"O...C...wait-- what?!??"
"Obsessive Compulsive Personality!"
But Miki looks utterly lost and --drat, Tatsu turns his attention to where Kaoru has moved on from quiet snickering to uproarious laughter, the rest of the team looking utterly flabbergasted.
Tatsuya looks back feels like an idiot. Why does he feel like an idiot?
"Tatsu..." Miki covers her mouth with one hand. "I was talking to Kaoru-kun about Oniichan's wedding this weekend."
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aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa omg gen fic skjdhfa I CANT I DONT EVEN skjdh adorable ;;
IS THAT EVEN LEGIT AU heh HEHEHEHE |Da
BAKATATSU THAT IS ALL mikiiiii ♥
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"There's no need for you to give up your bed. I can--"
The look that he gives her prompts Miki to fall quiet.
It was too late for her to catch a train back to Saitama, but not late enough that Keiko-san couldn't call up a cab to drive her home. It would have been expensive, but money is never an issue with Kaoru around. How she managed to let Tatsu convince her to stay the night in his apartment is something Miki's still trying to figure out.
"Sit down and stay off that foot. Prop it up so that the swelling goes down."
It's difficult to argue against practical logic. Moreso since she knows that Tatsu feels guilty every single time she gets caught in the middle of one of their cases.
She doesn't lie down until she's sure he's asleep, curled up beneath a gaudy looking blanket that looks like some sort of animal print, his spiky blond hair stark against the deep red sofa cushion. She waits for his breathing to even out, and then only then does she crawl onto the mattress to curl up in beneath sheets that smell faintly of his aftershave and the comfort of home.
Pre/Post Canon
He finds her at the back lot of the school, sitting alone on some steps. Her bento is laid out neatly on the handkerchief laid on the space beside her and Tatsu cannot help but think that in spite of her nose being a little red and the tear tracks tracing odd lines down her cheeks, Miki looks utterly composed.
Not, that he plans to tell her that. Or ever, even.
"Why are you such a crybaby?" are the first words out of his mouth when we walks over to stand near her. They haven't spoken for days, not since she pinched his ear after he wouldn't leave her pigtails alone.
"Here," he fishes out the handkerchief his mother tells him to bring but that he never uses. It is the closest he can bring himself to an apology (because, you know, he did nothing wrong; it's not his fault she's so averse to bugs).
When she turns her face a little away, he mutters softly and moves to the other side. "Miki, take it." He holds the handkerchief close to her face but she pushes it away and starts packing up her unfinished lunch with hands that he realizes aren't steady at all.
This is when he notes the scrape on her hand.
"Who did this?" Her wrist is in his in a heartbeat, though he is careful not to touch the wound. The blood is dried and the cut isn't that deep, but it doesn't look like it was cleaned.
He drags her off to the sink that sits all by it's lonesome at the back of the school, ignoring her protests that he's gripping her wrist too hard.
"Tatsu, that hurts." She winces when he holds her hand under the water, but she quiets down, her shoulders hunching up a little as she bows her head as if to hide her face.
Later that afternoon, Tatsu finds himself sentenced to detention. It is the first time he's ever had to stay an hour after the final bell and he can already imagine the kind of reaction his parents will have over this mark in his otherwise perfect record. But when Miki comes by with her unfinished lunch and an ice pack from the nearby convenience store, he decides that an extra hour stuck in an otherwise empty classroom is an okay trade for making sure that the upperclassmen who tried to bully his Suzuhime into giving up her bento will never bother her again.
Hurt/Comfort
"Serves you right for baiting him."
She notes that he doesn't look up when she lifts the cold compress up to his cheek. The bruise is starting to form along Tatsuya's cheekbone, curving around the side of his eye. Tomorrow morning it'll start to show and it won't be a pretty sight to see.
"I have onii-chan's sunglasses in my bag, I'll leave them here for you to use. I don't think it'll be good for the team if you scare away clients looking like some street punk who lost a brawl."
She might have missed the words if the room wasn't so quiet. "I don't like the way he acts so freely around you."
"Wait, what?"
"Miki, you should be careful too. That brat might get the wrong idea about your concern."
She doesn't have time to protest as he slides off the table to walk past her, but not before one hand comes up to gently cup her cheek before he makes his way out the door.
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lolomg I WONDER HOW MUCH DID IT TAKE FOR TATSU TO ACTUALLY ok nvm aaaaaaaaaa snuggling ;o;
They haven't spoken for days, not since she pinched his ear after he wouldn't leave her pigtails alone. HEH may naalala ako na kwento mo 8DDDDDDDDa
Tatsu finds himself sentenced to detention. GJ TATSU
I don't think it'll be good for the team if you scare away clients looking like some street punk who lost a brawl. FFFFFFFFFF
THERE IS YOICHI/MIKI IN HERE I KNOW IT
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8DDDDDDDDDDDDD "write what you know" diba? |D /SHOT
GJ TLGA. so teka, does this mean it's miki's fault na gago 'tong si ulol?
8DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
oo, i mean-- BAKIT MO NAMAN NASABI YUN
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He curls his fingers into fists. If he could somehow melt into the wood behind him he would. As things stand though, Tatsu is backed up against the wall with nowhere else to go. Who knew that four-inch high heels could make such a difference in Miki's height.
"I'm not attracted to you at all, you know." He manages to grit out the words even as the spirit inhabting Miki's body presses up against him, a dangerously sly smile spreading on her lips.
"Oh I know," the creature says in Miki's voice; not that Miki would talk in that tone, or wear that sorry excuse for a dress. "But I can smell your attraction, your arousal to this body. So, tell me, boy. Why not just give in?"
Smut/Kink
"Miki," Tatsuya whispers, fingers curling around her wrists. "Miki, get a hold of yourself." He moves her hands away, but she presses close, her mouth fastening on his.
"I need..."
He swallows a groan as her lips move to his cheek, his jaw, his neck. He shudders when her tongue flicks against his skin, his fingers losing their grip on her hands.
It's like liquid fire. It needs to burn out on its own. If you try to smother it, you'll only make it worse.
"I am so sorry," he whispers harshly before he cups her face in his hands and kisses her full on the mouth. He is, and he also isn't. He's spent too many nights staring at the ceiling after waking from some half-remembered dream that involved her and him and this.
Her hands are surprisingly clever as they slip under his shirt, her thumbs kneading the sides of his stomach. For a moment he feels a lance of jealousy shoot through him because they've never spoken about the people she's known from the time she was away.
He maneuvers them to the couch, his fingers threading through her hair, palms skimming down her back. When she makes a move to shed her clothes, he catches her hands in his and presses his lips to her palms.
"I want..."
He hushes her, guiding her onto his lap, his mouth pressing against hers.
She tastes so sweet, he wants to preserve that sweetness. The last thing he wants is for them to be at odds in the morning. Right now, its the potion that has set fire to the blood in her veins. Right now, it's not her acting of her own accord but because an aphrodisiac was slipped in her drink or her food.
"Why are you doing this? Why won't you--" He finds himself surprised at the bite in her voice and the way her fingers fist in his hair before she crushes her mouth against his, her tongue tasting the inside of his mouth. "I thought, when you kissed me I thought--"
The frustration is a low purr in her throat that goes straight to the pit of his stomach and Tatsuya gives in and drags her closer, as if it were not enough that they are pressed against each other like this.
"I'm not made of glass, Tatsu..."
He doesn't tell her that he knows. Instead, he smoothes his thumbs along the apples of her cheeks and kisses her again before he turns the tables so that she is beneath him, her hair falling against the cushions.
He's dreamt of this far too often for him to deny that he thinks of her that way no matter what else he says. He smoothes a hand over her stomach, a gentle pressure against the softness of her.
He's had women before. Not as many as some would think, but enough for him to know his limits, his preferences and inclinations. He knows full well that he is not a patient lover, but when his hands tremble as he catches the backs of her knees, he thinks that maybe it was that he was impatient for the real thing; the one that mattered, as if every other opportunity were just steps in a long flight of stairs leading up to this.
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It is odd to think that he won't be coming back to this school after today. The ground is littered with sakura blossoms and Tatsuya hears the tolling of the final school bell. In the fall he will be in Todai, but for the next few months he is going to disappear for awhile and train. He needs to get better. His skills need to improve.
He turns around and weaves through the crowd of graduates towards the gate, to where his family is waiting.
He doesn't expect to see her; doesn't know what to feel when she smiles up at his mother and nods, her mouth forming words he can't hear.
"Isn't that Suzume-kun?"
"I thought she moved back to America after that incident on the roof. Did she really try to kill herself?"
"That's what people say. And apparently she's living with the Katori family. They're so generous, taking on a girl like her like that."
He can feel the anger rising inside of him and he quickly walks away. What do they know? Nothing. They have never had to worry about the things they cannot see, the ghosts that linger, hungry for another chance at whatever life was cut short, ready to occupy the nearest available vessel in order to fulfill their selfish desires.
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