ɢᴀɴɢ-𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗦! [ ᴛʀ x ᴍᴀʟᴇ! ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ]
CH.10
Something About You — Eyedress
She looks just like a dream
The prettiest girl I've ever seen
From the cover of a magazine
The sun was already high when Ran and Rindou reached the park. Kids were running around, old couples feeding pigeons, and the smell of sweet batter drifted through the air.
Rindou’s eyes instantly locked onto the new food stall by the fountain.
“Ran. Ran. Ran.” He tugged at his brother’s sleeve like a child.
“They sell crepes.” Ran raised a brow.
“You’re such a sucker for sweets.”
Rindou didn’t deny it. “And you’re a sucker for pretending you’re above it. Come on.”
Without waiting, Rindou dragged him toward the stand. The stall’s sign read “CREPE DAY!” in pastel letters.
Rindou stared at the menu like it was treasure.
“I’m getting the strawberry-banana one.”
Ran ordered a chocolate-almond crepe for himself. He took one bite, eyes narrowed.
The vendor handed them warm crepes wrapped in crisp paper. Rindou took one bite and froze. Ran blinked.
“…Well?” Rindou swallowed hard.
“This is amazing. Holy shit.” Ran took a bite of his. His eyes widened slightly.
“Okay… yeah. This is good.”
“Five out of five,” Rindou declared proudly.
“Four,” Ran corrected.
“Why four?”
“Because there’s no matcha flavor,” Ran answered calmly. “If a place doesn’t have matcha, it can’t be perfect.”
"Pshh, always so nitpicky." Rindou huffed, playfully rolling his eyes.
"Just sayin'."
They finished their snack and tossed the wrappers.
.
.
.
The fashion district was only a few streets away, so Ran led the way like a moth drawn to sequins. His eyes sparkled the moment they stepped inside a boutique.
“Ohhh, look at this jacket, Rin! Come here.” Rindou groaned.
“Here we go.” Ran grabbed a deep blue jacket, shoved it into Rindou’s hands, then grabbed two shirts, a necklace, and a beanie from different corners of the store.
“Put these on.”
“…Why me?”
“Because your proportions are better for visualizing outfits,” Ran said, adjusting Rindou’s collar.
“Now hold still and don’t make that face.”
“I’m literally your brother, not your mannequin.”
“Can’t hear you. Fashion is speaking.”
Rindou sighed dramatically while Ran stepped back, eyes scanning the “look” with a stylist’s intensity. Then Ran smirked.
“Nice. We’re buying that.” Rindou stared down at himself.
“I look stupid.”
“No, you look expensive,” Ran corrected. “Which is the entire point.”
After trying several combinations, Ran bought two outfits, matching ones.
Rindou blinked at the bag.
“We’re wearing the same thing?”
“Yes.”
“Ran… we’re delinquents.”
“And? Delinquents can’t be fabulous?” Ran went ahead hollered tons of clothes in his basket. Both for him and Rindou.
.
.
.
They left the shop in good spirits, walking through the park with their bags and empty crepe wrappers. The sky was turning gold with the setting sun. For a moment, they were just brothers having fun, no gangs, no trouble, no secrets.
Eventually they reached the entrance to their usual shortcut home. a narrow alley with colorful graffiti and dim lamps. They’d used it countless times.
Nothing bad had ever happened here.
Usually.
Rindou was talking about a new takoyaki food stall he wanted to try next when—
CLANG.
A metal pipe hit the ground behind them. Ran stopped mid-step. Rindou’s shoulders stiffened. Figures stepped out from the shadows. Then more. Then more.
Within seconds, almost fifty men surrounded the alley. filling both ends, blocking any escape. Their matching jackets made their affiliation painfully clear.
Rindou’s jaw clenched.
Ran exhaled a long, annoyed sigh.
“Well,” Ran murmured,
“someone’s been busy multiplying.”
The leader stepped forward with a cruel grin.
“Haitani brothers. Tonight, we settle the score.”
Rindou frowned.
“There’s a lot of them.”
The man at the front smirked.
“You thought we’d forget what you did to us?” Rindou spoke, voice low.
“We beat your ass once.”
“Don’t worry,” Ran added.
“We’ll make it twice.”
The men surrounding them laughed.
There were around fifty of them.
Just the two of them.
Ran shifted his grip on the shopping bags.
“…Okay Rin, take the breakables. I’ll handle the ugly ones.” Rindou took the bags calmly and rolled his cuffs.
“Fine. But I call dibs on the guy with the stupid haircut.”
“Oh please,” Ran scoffed. “They all have stupid haircuts.”
The gang surged forward,
And everything exploded.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The bell chimed as the last customer left. M/n cleaned the counter with slow, tired movements, rubbing the cloth in lazy circles as the sun dipped beneath the buildings. The café lights made the room warm and golden, but outside, the world was shifting into twilight.
His phone buzzed on the counter.
Taiju: I’m close. Two minutes.
M/n huffed a small laugh.
“That man has no idea what ‘relaxed timing’ means.” He shut off appliances, straightened a few chairs, hung his apron, and finally locked up. The metal shutters slid down with a loud rattle, ending his shift.
And there Taiju was.
A luxury black car parked under the streetlamp.
Taiju leaned on the hood with the posture of someone who trained his entire life to be intimidating, but the soft expression he wore the moment he saw M/n made it look like he’d been caught off guard by his own feelings.
“Evening,” Taiju said, smoothing his suit jacket.
M/n walked over, hands in pockets.
“You do realize it’s not a gala, right? I didn’t know we were going somewhere that required…something fancy.” He gestured at Taiju’s entire existence.
Taiju cleared his throat.
“I dress appropriately for important things.”
“Oh?” M/n raised an eyebrow. “And picking me up from work is important?” Taiju froze, not enough to be obvious, but enough.
“…Yes,” he admitted. M/n blinked once. Then twice.
“Okay, that’s new.” He stepped forward and opened the passenger-side door for M/n, smooth, gentlemanly, almost too formal. M/n blinked, mildly impressed but not showing it.
“Fancy,” M/n commented.
“You deserve at least this,” Taiju replied.
That made M/n pause. Just for a second.
Then he got in.
Taiju closed the door gently and walked around to the driver’s side, his expression composed… except for the faint tightness in his jaw. When he slid into the driver’s seat, his hand on the wheel wasn’t as steady as usual.
He cleared his throat.
“Comfortable?” Taiju asked, voice slightly lower than normal.
“Yeah. So…” M/n buckled in. “Are you gonna tell me where we’re going? Or do I have to keep on thinking if this is a kidnapping attempt?”
Taiju let out a low, soft chuckle.
“It’s a surprise. I’m confident you’ll like it… so I’d rather not ruin it now.” M/n glanced at him sideways.
“Mysterious, huh.” Taiju didn’t answer. His mind was running full speed.
'Is this a date? Does this count as a date? I initiated it. I picked him up. I opened the door for him. That’s date behavior. Fuck. Should I have brought flowers? Too early for flowers…'
He forced himself not to grip the wheel too hard.
Meanwhile, M/n was staring out the window, thinking;
'Did I defrost the chicken for the twins? They’ll complain if I don’t cook something good. The laundry pile is growing again. And I think we’re out of soy sauce.'
Taiju interrupted his thoughts without meaning to.
“You look deep in thought.”
“Yeah,” M/n replied casually.
“Just planning what I’ll cook for the boys tonight.” Taiju blinked. He swallowed, regaining composure.
“They’re lucky,” Taiju said quietly. M/n shrugged.
“They eat everything. It’s not that deep.” Taiju almost smiled.
“That’s not what I meant.”
M/n turned to him.
“What about you? Planning something big?"
Taiju nearly choked. Taiju cleared his throat again, voice quieter.
“I just… thought you deserved a change of scenery. Something nice.”
M/n paused.
“…That’s surprisingly sweet,” he admitted.
Taiju didn’t react. Or rather, he reacted too much and tried aggressively not to show it.
The traffic light turned red. Taiju stopped the car and finally looked at him, face strangely earnest.
“I hope you like the place. That’s all.”
M/n held his stare for a moment. Then he smiled.
“Okay,” he murmured. “Show me what you’ve got, Shiba.” The light changed. Taiju’s heart restarted.
“And Taiju?”
“Yes?” He responded too fast.
“You don’t need to be so formal,” M/n said. “Relax.” Taiju exhaled shakily.
“I’m trying.” M/n laughed, quiet and fond.
“You’re cute when you try.” Taiju nearly swerved into a pole.
.
.
.
The car rolled to a smooth stop, engine humming quietly before Taiju switched it off.
Outside the windshield stood a tall, ebony-black house, sharp lines, minimalist, expensive in a way that whispered instead of shouted.
M/n blinked at it.
“…Is this your place?” Taiju stepped out, walking around to M/n’s side, and opened the door for him with a soft click.
“Yes,” he answered calmly.
“I thought it would be better to talk here. It’s… quieter.”
M/n stepped out, taking in the structure.
“It looks… intimidating.” Taiju’s lips twitched.
“I get that a lot.”
He gestured for M/n to follow, and they walked up the stone steps together.
Inside was even quieter. The air smelled faintly like cedar and something warm, maybe Taiju’s cologne lingering in the space.
“Please,” Taiju said, motioning down the hallway, “this way.”
M/n followed politely, hands behind his back like a polite guest.
“You must be busy to maintain a house this clean.”
“I hire people,” Taiju replied.
“If I cleaned this myself, I would lose my company in a week.”
“That’s fair,” M/n laughed softly.
Taiju glanced sideways at him, just for a second, then looked away quickly when he realized he was staring.
“You remember,” Taiju began carefully, “the day we met? M/n raised an eyebrow.
“You mean the day your hired shippers almost shot you?”
“They weren’t going to shoot me,” Taiju said sharply.
“They pointed a gun at you.”
“A warning.”
M/n gave him a polite, neutral smile.
“I see... A very… expressive warning.”
Taiju cleared his throat, walking faster for a moment.
“I told you, they were hired to transport something sensitive.”
“Right. ‘Shippers.’”
“Yes.”
“And the cargo was…?” M/n asked lightly.
“Fish,” Taiju let out a soft chuckle.
“Exotic fish. I told you, they’re legal. Quite fragile creatures, actually. I needed people who could handle them carefully.”
“That wasn’t what I expected when someone says ‘shippers.’”
“Most people don’t expect fish.”
"I suppose that makes sense...somewhere.”
Taiju’s ears turned a faint shade of red.
They approached a heavy door at the end of the hallway. Taiju paused, hand on the handle.
“I brought you here because there’s something I want to show you. It’s nothing alarming.”
“Alright,” M/n said softly.
Taiju pushed the door open.
A soft glow spilled across the floor. The room was almost entirely dark, except for the massive aquarium wall stretching from one end to the other.
Blue lights danced across the room, rippling onto the ceiling. Colorful fish glided like tiny lanterns through the water.
M/n stepped inside slowly.
“…Taiju,” he whispered. “This is… beautiful.”
Taiju watched him, gaze softened.
“These are the ones from that incident. They were transported here the week after you… stepped in.”
“You saved them that day,” Taiju said quietly. “Saved me, too. I wanted to show you what came out of that moment.”
M/n shot him a sideways look. “You really brought me here… to see fish?”
Taiju rubbed the back of his neck. “Well… yes.”
M/n’s lips twitched. “You’re adorable.”
Taiju nearly died right there. M/n’s eyes stayed on the tank, mesmerized.
“I didn’t know you cared about something like this.”
Taiju shifted slightly, hands in his pockets.
“It’s quiet here. Peaceful. I’d rather be surrounded by this than most people.”
“It suits you,” M/n said without thinking—gentle and sincere.
Taiju’s breath hitched. Just a little.
“…Thank you.”
He guided M/n to a couch placed facing the aquarium. There was already tea set on the low table.
M/n sat politely, folding his hands.
“You prepared this?”
“I thought… you might like something warm.”
“That’s very thoughtful.”
Taiju hid the way his shoulders relaxed at those words.
“Sit. Make yourself comfortable.” He sat beside him, not too close, but close enough that M/n’s soft scent reached him. M/n took a sip and hummed.
“This tea is really nice. Expensive?”
Taiju didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
M/n smiled politely. “I’m honored.” Taiju tried to look unaffected. He failed.
A moment later, M/n spoke quietly, eyes on the fish.
“You were tapping your foot in the car earlier. Nervous?”
Taiju stiffened. “No.”
M/n glanced at him. “Are you nervous now?”
Taiju swallowed. “…No.”
“You tapped again.”
Taiju froze.
M/n’s soft chuckle filled the dim room.
“I’m just teasing.”
Taiju’s jaw clenched very lightly, not in irritation, but because his chest felt warm.
M/n finally noticed something in the corner, partially hidden by the dim light.
“Is that a billiard table?” Taiju turned his head. “Ah. Yes.” M/n set his tea down gently.
“You play?”
“Sometimes,” Taiju said. “It helps me think.”
M/n gave a polite smile, warm, harmless.
“That sounds relaxing.” Taiju stood up slowly.
“Would you… like to play a round?”
M/n met his eyes.
“I’d like that. Though I'm not really good at it.”
Taiju inhaled sharply.
“It's quite alright.” M/n rose from the couch.
Taiju steadied himself, beenbecause even M/n’s simple, polite smile felt like it could break his composure at any moment.
The billiards table stood in the middle like a centerpiece.
Taiju handed M/n a cue stick with a gentleman’s posture.
“Since you’re my guest,” he said, “you can break first.” M/n smiled politely.
“That’s very courteous of you. Thank you.”
Taiju watched him step up to the table, measured, graceful, composed.
M/n lined up the cue, narrowed his eyes…
CRACK!
The balls scattered. One striped ball slipped neatly into a pocket.
Taiju blinked.
“You have skill.”
“Why, Thank you."
His next shot was simple, a clean angle on a corner ball. He made it, maintaining that calm confidence… but then the shot after that failed, the cue ball grazing the target just a bit too lightly.
Taiju nodded subtly.
“My turn, then.”
He circled the table with that steady, collected gait of his, every movement calculated, gentlemanly. He lined up…
Tapped the cue ball…
And sank a solid without even blinking.
M/n quirked a brow.
“You're good at this.”
“A little,” Taiju answered, placing the cue down for just a moment. “My business associates sometimes insisted on playing to ‘break tension.’”
“Did it work?”
“No. I beat them too quickly. It only made things worse.” M/n chuckled softly.
Taiju’s ears turned faintly red. He took two more shots. one perfect, one that curved beautifully but missed by a hair.
Taiju stepped back. “Your turn.” M/n moved around the table, eyes searching for an angle.
He spotted one ball he could definitely sink and tapped it cleanly into the pocket.
Then another.
Then another.
Until he froze.
“Uh-oh.” Taiju straightened. “What is it?”
M/n pointed with his cue.
“That one. Far end. Terrible angle.” Taiju walked around to look.
“I can get you a cue extender.”
“No need,” M/n said lightly. “I can reach.” Taiju blinked.
“…Reach?”
M/n placed his cue on the table edge like he always did. completely unaware of the impending crisis.
Then he climbed up onto the table edge, one leg stretching long behind him.
Taiju’s soul left his body.
M/n leaned forward, torso low, back arching instinctively to find the best line of sight.
His hips angled upward just slightly.
His legs extended straight behind him, balancing him gracefully.
A perfect, elegant, absolutely devastating pose. Taiju’s grip on his cue tightened so hard he nearly snapped it.
He turned his head away so fast he almost gave himself whiplash.
He slapped a hand over his own eyes like a nun seeing sin for the first time.
“A-Ah— M/n,” he forced out, voice cracking just slightly, “is that… really the angle you need?”
“Mm-hmm,” M/n said casually, concentrating.
“I can’t bend my arm that way from the side. This is easier.”
Taiju, still covering his eyes, turned away entirely, shoulders stiff.
He looked like a saint resisting temptation.
“That pose is—” he choked, “—quite… bold.”
M/n blinked, confused, still stretched across the table.
“Bold? I’m just reaching the ball.”
“That’s the problem,” Taiju muttered under his breath, ears turning red, “you’re… reaching.”
M/n didn’t hear him.
Behind him, M/n adjusted his angle casually.
“Hmm… I need to lower my shoulder—”
“Please don’t narrate it,” Taiju begged under his breath.
“What?” M/n asked, still focused.
“Nothing,” Taiju croaked.
M/n aimed, stretched further.
Taiju covered his eyes with one hand and stared at the floor like it was the only safe place in the room.
“Is the angle really that bad?” he asked, voice thin.
“Yes,” M/n answered simply, still in full pose. “This is the only clean shot.” Taiju inhaled through his nose.
Of course it was.
Of course M/n had no idea how dangerous he looked.
CRACK!
The ball shot across the table.
Hit its target.
And dropped neatly into the pocket.
M/n brightened. “Oh! That was better than I expected.”
He started to push himself up. slow, unaware of how much worse the angle was getting for Taiju, while Taiju kept his eyes pointed firmly at the floor like a soldier refusing eye contact with a deity.
M/n hopped off the table with a soft thud.
“Your turn, Taiju.” Taiju finally lowered his hand, face still warm, trying to regain his dignity.
Taiju turned, cleared his throat, attempted to regain dignity.
“I—yes. Of course.”
“And thank you for not laughing,” M/n said casually. “That pose looked ridiculous, didn’t it?”
Taiju froze.
“…Ridiculous,” he echoed weakly.
“Yes.”
“Completely absurd.”
“…Yes.”
M/n smoothed his shirt. “Good. I’d hate to look strange in front of you.”
Taiju’s eye twitched.
But he only swallowed, straightened his posture, and said:
“Let us continue the game.” M/n smiled politely. Taiju tried not to flee the room.
The game stretched on, soft blue aquarium light washing over the table as the two of them moved in a quiet rhythm, step, aim, tap, sink.
Eventually, only two balls remained:
The cue ball and the 8-ball.
Taiju circled the table with the same calm authority he had shown all evening. His final shot lined up perfectly the 8-ball practically begging to be sunk. Anyone would make this shot.
M/n stood at the opposite side, cue balanced lightly across his palm. M/n watched with polite curiosity.
“That seems like an easy finish.”
“It is,” Taiju admitted.
“Then you’ll win.”
“…Yes.”
He didn’t sound thrilled. He actually sounded conflicted. M/n folded his hands behind his back, unaware of how stiff Taiju became when he did that.
“Please, go ahead.”
Taiju exhaled slowly, leaned down, and set up the shot. Perfect form. Perfect angle. A guaranteed win.
He paused.
Tap.
Not enough force.
Not the right angle.
The ball drifted past the pocket, harmlessly bumping into the rail. M/n blinked.
“…You missed.”
Taiju straightened with fake calm.
“Mistakes happen.”
“That didn’t look like a mistake.”
“It was one.”
"It is."
Taiju straightened as if nothing happened.
“The table is slightly uneven.”
M/n approached the table, amusement quiet in his eyes.
“I simply don’t understand why you would miss a shot you could’ve made with your eyes closed.” Taiju’s ears reddened just slightly.
“I told you. I misjudged the force.”
“And the angle apparently.”
M/n stepped up for his turn, but instead of sinking it, he tapped just lightly enough that the 8-ball rolled to the side of the pocket and stopped short. Taiju blinked slowly.
“You missed.”
“So did you,” M/n said simply.
“I didn’t miss on purpose.”
M/n looked pleasantly surprised. “Oh? You think I’m incapable of missing too?”
“Not that badly.”
“Hmm. Perhaps you’re right.”
He leaned his cue against his shoulder.
“Maybe your ‘uneven table’ is contagious.”
Taiju stepped up, jaw tightening just a little.
He shot again. He missed, Again.
M/n’s lips twitched.
“Taiju.”
“Yes?”
“You don’t need to give me the win.” Taiju inhaled, shoulders rising with the breath.
“I’m not.”
“Mm.”
M/n lined up his cue.
“If you say so.”
M/n was about to nudge the 8-ball harmlessly again, When he felt it. A presence. Large, warm, unmistakably close behind him.
A shadow draped over his shoulders.
And then, a big hand wrapped over his own.
M/n froze. Taiju’s voice came from above him, low and steady.
“You’re holding the cue too loosely.”
M/n’s heart jumped into his throat so fast he almost choked.
Taiju adjusted their hands, his palm warm and heavy, guiding the cue with quiet, focused intent. His torso leaned in, chest and stomach brushing M/n’s back. Their bodies aligned so closely that M/n could feel the shape of Taiju’s breath against the side of his neck.
He held very, very still.
“May I?” Taiju asked. M/n swallowed.
“…It seems I don’t have a choice.”
Taiju huffed a tiny laugh, breath warm, and tightened his grip over M/n’s.
“Follow through like this.”
He shifted their arms together, steady, firm, guiding. Then he pulled the cue back with M/n’s hand, and...
CRACK.
...The 8-ball shot cleanly into the pocket.
Perfect. Effortless. A winning shot.
Taiju stepped back immediately, clearing his throat, regaining his polite distance as if nothing had happened.
M/n stayed frozen an extra second before straightening.
“Well done,” Taiju said smoothly. “Congratulations.”
M/n blinked.
“…Why congratulate me? You took the shot.”
“You lined it up,” Taiju replied, wiping his cue with unnecessary concentration.
“It counts.”
M/n looked down at his hand, still slightly warm where Taiju had held it.
He cleared his throat lightly and regained his polite composure.
“I’d prefer a real match next time. No need to let me win.”
Taiju’s mouth curved in a small, knowing smile, the kind that said he was remembering exactly the pose M/n did earlier.
“We’ll see.” M/n felt heat creep up his neck.
Taiju wasn’t flustered anymore.
Now M/n was.
“Well,” M/n said a bit too quickly,
“next time I’ll beat you properly.” Taiju folded the cloth neatly.
“I look forward to the rematch.”
And somehow…
the way he said it made M/n’s heartbeat stumble.
The billiards match ended, but neither of them mentioned it again. Instead, Taiju guided M/n back to the lounge area beside the huge aquarium, a low table, a plush sofa, and the dim shifting glow of the water painting the room blue.
A tray already sat on the table: small cakes, neatly sliced, and a pot of hot tea emitting a delicate vanilla scent.
M/n blinked softly.
“You prepared this?” Taiju cleared his throat.
“My staff did. But I supervised.”
“Mm. Thank you,” M/n said with a polite little smile as he sat down.
Taiju sat beside him, They ate quietly at first.
M/n set down his fork.
“This cake is light. Good balance.” Taiju straightened slightly, pleased.
“I’m glad. I wasn’t sure if you preferred sweet things.”
“I don’t. But this isn’t overly sweet.”
“Then I’ll remember that.” M/n paused at the phrasing.
Taiju realized what he said, looked away.
“I mean— it’s useful information. For future refreshments. For guests. In general.” M/n smiled behind his teacup.
“Of course. For guests.” Taiju almost choked on his cake.
Conversation drifted naturally after that: work stories, small observations, Taiju talking about the maintenance required for the aquarium, M/n offering cooking tips when Taiju mentioned he barely knew how to fry an egg.
For a moment, it felt simple. Comfortable.
Eventually, M/n checked the time on his phone.
“I should head home,” he said, standing and smoothing the front of his shirt.
“I need to cook dinner.”
Taiju immediately stood as well.
“I’ll drive you.”
“That isn’t necessary.”
“I insist.”
M/n blinked, then nodded with polite acceptance. “Very well.”
.
.
.
The drive was quiet but warm.
Taiju kept glancing at M/n out of the corner of his eye, as if making sure he was comfortable.
M/n watched the passing streets, the city turning golden as evening approached.
When they reached M/n’s house, Taiju parked smoothly and stepped out first, rounding the car to open M/n’s door.
“Still such a gentleman,” M/n teased lightly as he stepped out.
Taiju looked like he had to actively stop himself from melting.
“It’s only proper.” They approached the front door, and M/n was about to thank him for the time when Taiju cleared his throat and reached into his coat pocket.
They reached the porch when Taiju paused.
“I have something for you.” M/n raised an eyebrow.
“A gift? For what?” Taiju looked away for a moment, composing himself.
“For… trusting me today. And for letting me show you something important to me.”
M/n tilted his head in quiet curiosity. Taiju opened a small velvet box.
Inside was a simple silver necklace. elegant, understated, the kind of thing you’d give someone you admired far more than you should.
M/n’s expression softened. “…Taiju.”
“I thought it suited you.”
“You didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to.”
Taiju’s voice dropped. “Let me thank you properly.”
M/n closed the box gently.
“…It’s lovely.” Taiju hesitated, then asked,
“May I put it on you?” M/n blinked, surprised, but he nodded.
“Alright.” He turned around and lifted his hair with one hand, exposing the nape of his neck.
Taiju froze for half a second.
Because M/n’s neck...was turning red. Soft warmth spreading downwards.
Taiju swallowed once, quietly.
He stepped closer, carefully moving M/n’s fingers aside to hold the chain. His fingertips brushed the back of M/n’s neck, barely a touch, but enough to send a shiver up M/n’s spine.
Taiju hooked the clasp, fingers steady but breath uneven.
And then, before he could stop himself, He leaned down and pressed the faintest kiss to M/n’s hair, right above the ear.
M/n inhaled sharply, eyes widening.
“You look perfect,” Taiju murmured against his hair.
M/n froze, only for a breath, then let his hair fall and turned around with a look that pretended to be neutral… but his ears were very much pink.
“You shouldn’t give expensive gifts so casually,” M/n said quietly, looking away.
“It wasn’t casual,” Taiju replied immediately.
M/n’s gaze flicked up, meeting his eyes.
Something warm spread between them for a moment, slow and sweet and unhurried.
Eventually, M/n smiled, small, almost hidden.
“Thank you, Taiju.” Taiju swallowed.
“Anytime.” M/n let his hair fall back into place and turned slowly to face him, expression neutral but eyes slightly too bright.
“…Thank you,” he said softly.
Taiju stepped back, suddenly stiff, clearing his throat as if he regretted everything he just did. “I’ll— I’ll let you rest now. Have a good evening, M/n.”
M/n nodded once.
“You as well.” Taiju walked back to his car with the posture of a man whose soul had just escaped his body.
“Goodnight,” he said softly.
“Goodnight,” M/n returned.
Taiju took one last look, as if he needed it to breathe, then got into his car and drove away with the stupidest, softest smile on his face.
M/n stood on the porch, thumb brushing the necklace.
He told himself it was just a gift.
He told himself Taiju was just being polite.
But the blush wouldn’t leave his neck.
And his heart wouldn’t slow down.
M/n stood at his door watching him leave, thumb brushing over the new necklace as if deciding whether he should feel warm… or overwhelmed.
Maybe both.
The door clicked shut behind M/n, and the quiet of his home wrapped around him like a warm blanket.
He leaned his back against the door, one hand over his chest, the other gently touching the necklace.
A kiss on the hair… and a compliment?
His face slowly heated up again at the memory.
No one had ever leaned in like that. No one had ever treated him gently while also making his heart race that fast.
He was used to admiration, yes. People found him beautiful, intimidating, or both, but romantic interest?
Confessions?
Sweet gestures like this?
Those were rare.
He sighed, flustered, lifting the necklace so he could admire the pendant. It sparkled under the dim lights, delicate but not fragile, almost like Taiju intentionally chose something that wasn’t too flashy, but still undeniably thoughtful.
“…Cute,” M/n whispered to himself, smiling ever so slightly as he twirled it between his fingers.
He took a step toward the kitchen, ready to start dinner, when he heard the front door creak open.
“Oh?” He turned with a soft smile. “Rindou, Ran, welcome ba—”
His words died, breath catching.
Ran stood in the doorway, bruised and scraped, one arm wrapped firmly around Rindou’s waist. Rindou stumbled forward, barely conscious, his glasses shattered, one lens missing, blood trickling from a cut on his cheek.
Ran had a swollen lip.
A bruise darkened his jaw.
His usually smug expression was replaced by focused panic.
Rindou coughed violently, nearly collapsing if Ran didn’t tighten his grip.
His breathing was uneven, shaky.
M/n’s heartbeat dropped like a stone.
“What…” he breathed, stepping closer, “happened to you two?”
Ran didn’t meet his eyes. Rindou stayed silent, too tired even to pretend it didn’t hurt. Ran clicked his tongue.
“It’s just delinquent stuff. We’re used to being like this.”
M/n stared at him.
“You both came home like this,” he said quietly. “Barely walking.”
Ran shrugged stiffly. “I said we’re used to it.”
There it was again, cold, closed-off, the instinct to handle things alone. Normally, M/n would let them keep their walls.
But not tonight. M/n’s voice lowered, still gentle, still polite… but the temperature dropped.
“Ran,” he said, “look at me.”
Ran did, hesitant, almost wary. M/n’s expression was calm.
“I don’t care if you think you’re used to it,” he said softly. “Someone did this to you.”
He stepped closer, lowering his gaze to match Ran’s height, his tone still steady but edged with something sharp and unmistakably dangerous.
“Whoever laid their hands on you,” he continued, “whoever thought beating you bloody was something they could walk away from…” A slow breath, a soft smile that wasn’t really a smile.
“…won’t get the chance to try again.” Rindou’s shoulders stiffened, Ran swallowed.
The air in the house felt tight, like a storm in human form. M/n straightened, the softness in his face returning like a mask slipping back into place.
“Sit,” he said gently. “Both of you. Before you fall over.” Rindou said nothing but obeyed, leaning onto the couch.
Ran lowered him carefully, stealing a glance at M/n with something like unease.
M/n fetched the first-aid kit. But the room felt colder. When he returned, he knelt before them and began cleaning Rindou’s cuts, gentle as ever, but the silence around him was sharper than broken glass.
Rindou flinched once, M/n paused.
“I won’t hurt you,” he murmured. “Hold still.”
Ran looked away but couldn’t hide the goosebumps on his arms.
After a few minutes, M/n finally spoke again, quiet, casual, terrifying.
M/n finished tying the last bandage on Rindou’s arm.
His movements were precise. Gentle.
Too gentle.
Then he stood, wiped his hands slowly on a towel, and looked down at both of them.
“Alright,” he said quietly. “Now tell me who did this.”
Ran froze.
Rindou stiffened.
M/n’s voice wasn’t angry.
It wasn’t loud.
But it carried the same weight as a knife laid on a table between them.
Ran tried to play it off.
“I told you—it’s just delinquent st—”
“Ran.” The way M/n said his name made the hair on Ran’s neck rise.
He swallowed. “We can handle it. It’s not—”
“You’re bleeding,” M/n interrupted softly. “You could barely walk in.”
Rindou looked away, jaw clenching.
M/n stepped closer, not threatening, not intimidating, simply present. But his presence filled the room like a shadow stretching across the floor.
“I need the truth,” he murmured.
“I deserve the truth. You come home like this, and I’m expected to smile and accept that it’s normal?”
Ran looked down at his hands.
M/n crouched so he was eye-level with both of them.
“Who hurt you?" Still, silence. M/n smiled, slow, polite. Deadly.
“Do you think protecting them is admirable?” he asked. “Because it’s not. It’s annoying.”
The twins stiffened. M/n tilted his head, studying them.
“You’re not hiding it from me because you’re strong,” he said. "You're hiding it from me because you think you can avenge yourself in your current situation." Ran flinched. Rindou’s breath hitched. M/n leaned his elbow on the armrest beside Rindou, almost casual.
“You think I won’t find them?” he whispered. “You think I won’t know within the hour?”
He wasn’t threatening.
He was stating fact.
Ran tried to force a glare, but it wavered.
“M/n…” Rindou muttered softly, surprising even himself.
M/n’s eyes softened for half a second at the word, then sharpened again.
“I’m going to ask one more time,” he said, tone low and calm.
“Who touched you?”
Silence.
Rindou’s lips parted, before Ran nudged him sharply. M/n noticed.
In one single breath, his demeanor changed just slightly, less gentle, more wolf beneath the sheep’s clothing.
“Ran.”
Ran tensed. M/n leaned back on his heels, folding his arms loosely.
Rindou whispered, voice trembling,
“Why… why do you care so much?” M/n blinked.
Then he spoke with a softness that somehow made it worse:
“Because you’re my sons.”
The twins froze.
“And if someone lays a hand on my family..." M/n said, calm and gentle,
“then they’ve already signed the agreement to bleed.” Ran stopped breathing, Rindou looked pale.
Not a word.
Not a hint.
Just stiff shoulders and stubborn eyes.
M/n stared at them for a long moment, then sighed—quiet, tired, and disappointed in the way only a parent could be.
“…Alright,” he murmured. “Have it your way.”
He rose from the couch and walked toward the kitchen. M/n exhaled, straightening.
“I’ll ask again after dinner,” he said kindly. “Think about whether silence is worth what happens next.”
he moment he was out of earshot, the twins leaned toward each other.
Rindou whispered, “We should tell him.”
Ran whipped his head toward his brother. “Are you insane?”
“He asked us. He knows something’s up.”
“That’s exactly why we don’t say anything,” Ran hissed. “We settle this ourselves. Like we always do.”
Rindou frowned. “Yeah, but… didn’t you see him? He looked scary.”
Ran scoffed quietly. “He’s an old man, not a monster.”
"He's Nightingale." Rindou gave him a look.
Ran sighs.
“…Okay, maybe a little monster.”
A loud click of metal against countertop made them both jump.
They watched M/n return from the kitchen, calm as ever, holding a tray with three steaming bowls tonkatsu, rice, and perfectly cooked sunny-side-up eggs.
He placed each bowl gently in front of them.
“Eat,” M/n said softly.
It wasn’t a request. It was a command.
Dinner was silent. Ran took a bite. Rindou followed. Both boys had never been so aware of the quiet.
M/n ate quietly, calmly, casually, like he wasn’t already running through names, places, and grudges in his head.
Ran glanced at him, Rindou glanced at him.
Neither could tell what M/n was thinking.
That scared them more than any beating.
When they finished eating, M/n stood up and collected the empty bowls. Halfway to the sink, he paused.
“I’m going out,” he said. Both boys snapped their heads up.
“At this hour?” Ran asked, brows furrowing. “Why?” M/n turned his head slightly over his shoulder.
And smiled. Soft. Polite. Absolutely terrifying.
“I just need to take a walk.” Rindou felt a chill run down his spine. Ran’s fork slipped from his fingers.
“…M/n?” Rindou murmured. But M/n was already walking to the door, slipping on a coat, tying his hair back in a lazy half-knot.
The door shut with a gentle click.
Silence.
Meanwhile, M/n stepped into the night.
His footsteps were calm and quiet as he headed down the empty street.
He tugged his gloves tighter.
Rolled his shoulders.
And let the last piece of his gentle mask fall away.
He was no longer the soft-spoken café owner.
No longer the calm father who cooked dinner.
His eyes sharpened with a cold, vicious clarity he hadn’t used in years.
“Fifty people,” he murmured to himself. “That’s quite a number.” His smile turned thin, dark.
“They must still be nearby.”
And M/n began combing through the city, quietly slipping through alleyways, abandoned lots, and gang corners.
Every person he found, he grabbed by the collar.
Every gang member he dragged out of their hiding place learned the same lesson:
Mess with his sons, and the Nightingale sings again.
He didn’t break bones for fun.
He didn’t crack skulls for entertainment.
He did it because Ran and Rindou came home bleeding.
And by the end of the night, the entire district knew—
Someone was hunting. Someone that threw away their crown a decade ago.
And the ones responsible?
They would be on their knees before the sun rose.
A/N: Wazzgood.
Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: ZingTruyen.Xyz