Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fighting’s nice, Baji learns at some point in his life. Especially when you got nothing better to do, caving someone’s face inwards was surprisingly fun.

Even when his knuckles were aching, Baji only looked at the guy he was beating up, begging him to stop with tears and snot running down his face, and he scoffed. Seriously, that’s just lame. Are all the guys these days this pathetic? Anyways, he had originally wanted to take his bike for a spin but got roped into a fight instead. He doesn’t know how he does it. Everytime he comes out, he’s bound to always get into a fight.

Now all that fighting ruined his mood to do any sightseeing.

He throws the cigarette he’d been smoking on them, not caring if it sets them on fire. Now, what should he do? Baji pushes his bangs over his shoulder. Right, he left home cause the old hag he knows as his mother wouldn’t stop telling him to go back to school. It turned into a pretty big fight and he banged the door on her on the way out.

Whatever. He’s out now. Nothing’s gonna get into his way.

Before Baji could decide what he should really do, a notification sound came from his phone. Seriously? Who’s texting him?

When he opened it, he saw a new message come in, and he nearly rolled his eyes. It was the old hag again. She’s asking if he’s coming back home to eat dinner. Eat shit, he wants to say, but closes the message instead. God, everything’s just pissing him off today.

He grinded down on his teeth.

Nothing ever goes right for him.

He tapped on another button and then he was calling someone.

“Yo,” he started, kicking at a can by his foot. “Mind if I swing by your bar? I’ve got nothing to do.”

“Like hell I’d let you,” the caller’s voice comes back to bite, crackling over the phone, “The last time you came over, you broke five cabinets in a fight, you damned bastard!”

Baji raises a brow. “I promise to be on my best behaviour? Come on, you still owe me one for dealing with delinquents.”

A sigh.

“Fine,” the caller says. “But only because the boss’ not here. I swear if you get into another fight, you’re never coming back, asshole.”

“You got yourself a deal.” Baji let out a laugh and hung up.

He looks and swuints when the sun hits his eyes. He then turn and went to find his bike.

Guess his next stop is Shibuya. That’s where the bar his friend, a tall dude with a dragon tattoo on the side of his head named Draken, works at. They weren’t actually friends. Baji first met him in an alleyway, on his way to school back when he still went. Draken was getting into some fight, and Baji, feeling bored, decided to help him out on a whim.

They somehow managed to wipe the whole group in under five minutes. Draken had laughed, saying that he’s a cool guy. He invited Baji to the bar afterwards to get his wounds treated, and now he comes over anytime he’s feeling like getting a drink or just wants a place far from home.

He closes his eyes when the traffic light turns red, feeling the thrum of his bike under his fingertips.

Home.

The concept of it feels unfamiliar. Baji can’t remember the last time he’s ever felt comfortable at home when he’s there.

Baji opens his eyes.

The light turns green and the cars honk at him to move.

Guess that’s not his problem.

.

.

.

The club was emptier than Baji thought when he arrived. Other than some regulars he manages to recognize, there wasn’t much going on. As usual some music that he doesn’t bother to hear was playing in the background. The lights were dim but he could see a couple making out in the corner of the bar.

Gross, he thought to himself.

Draken was wiping glasses when he walked over, wearing the bar’s uniform over a hoodie. The guy somehow looked like he got taller in the months they didn’t meet, towering nearly a head taller than Baji. The thought didn’t piss him as much as he thought it would. He ignores the girl that’s trying to strike up a conversation with Draken and sits at one of the seats. A careful eye catches him and Draken sets down the glass.

“Hey,” he greets.

Baji hums back as greeting. “I’m hungry. You got anything for me to eat?”

“Tsk. if you’re hungry, you should go to a restaurant, not a bar,” Draken rolled his eyes.

“Oh come on, I know you’ve got some things on the counter of yours.”

“A couple of drinks, yeah,” Draken bit back sarcastically. From behind the table, the boy brought out a glass of something colorful. Baji doesn’t know what it is, but when he downed the whole thing, his body immediately felt hot. It tastes sweet. Maybe a bit too sweet.

“I’d rather if you give me beer,” he complains.

“Shut up,” Draken bit back, handing one can over, “Now go away. I need to focus on my work.”

So that’s what Baji did: walk around the bar aimlessly, trying to see if there’s anything he could do to kill his boredom. He’s having a couple of smokes when he sees something out of the corner of his eyes. He thinks he spots a familiar face. Baji makes an expression he hasn’t done in a while. No. It can’t be. Maybe his eyesight was finally getting worse.

 He walks over to where a silhouette is sitting. “Kazutora, the hell are you doing here?” he asked.

Kazutora tiredly looks over to Baji before breaking into a faint smile. “Baji,” he greets.

For some reason Baji found himself amused. He bit the inside of his cheek. What the hell is up with him today? “We meet again, huh?” He points at the empty seat. “Mind if I join you?”

Kazutora sits further away. “It’s all yours.”

With a grunt, Baji unceremoniously sat down on the hard sofa. He tipped his head back to drink more booze, cold beer sliding down his throat familiarly. “Never thought I’d see you at a club of all things. You look like an honors student, after all,” he says with a grin.

“Me neither. This is my first time at a bar actually,” Kazutora shrugged.

Baji almost didn’t believe it. But then again, Kazutora was a guy who didn’t know how to smoke despite being surrounded by delinquents. Maybe some people like that really exist.

“Really?” Baji asked absentmindedly. The beer inside the can sloshes as he leans close. “Find any girls you fancy yet?”

Kazuora’s blush didn’t escape Baji’s attention when he knock their knees together. “Nah.”

“Hm.” Baji brought the cigarette to his mouth, letting smoke settle inside before blowing them out. The sun was fading in the distance. He stares out the window behind them. The bar was cold, but the beer in his hand was colder. He thinks about home for a moment.

“Hanemiya.”

Kazutora flinches. “Yeah?”

“What’s your type in girls?”

Kazutora chokes on air. “My- my type in girls?” he repeats.

Baji raises his brow at him. “What? You’re gonna tell me you’ve never had this talk before?”

Sheepishly, Kazutora tucks back his bangs, which didn’t help much because Baji couldn’t see his eyes fully still. “I… I think I like girls with long hair,” he said after a while. “Black hair if possible.”

“Pretty classic. Tall or short girls?”

“Sh… short.”

“Cuter, huh?”

“I guess.” Kazutora cautiously glanced at Baji. “What about you, Baji?”

“Not a damn clue.”

“Huh?”

It was true. Baji never talks about it, much less actually thinks about it. Romance never came easily to him and he didn’t really get the appeal of girls when his own classmates brought gravure magazines. He’s gotten confessed to though, once, but didn’t bother getting to know the girl. In highsight, he felt bad for her, but never sorry in the end.

Smoke continued to swirl around him. Sweat drips down the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure why. The bar was cold after all. He fiddled with his necklace. Must’ve been the beer’s influence. The cigarette in his hand was burning fast and he took one last puff before setting it on the ashtray.

He offers his can of beer to Kazutora. No use thinking of the past. School only made him feel worse.

“You alone? Where’s your buddies this time?” Baji asks, hoping to change the subject. Ironic, he knows.

Kazutora takes it before looking to the side. “Oh, they’re here, they said they wanted to play arcade.”

Baji scoffs, which almost makes him choke over air instead. He fiddles with the cigarette box, playing with one of them, the sight almost dizzying. “Without you? That’s shitty, dude.”

Kazutora shot him a warning glare, but it wasn’t as harsh as last time. He takes a sip. “Doesn’t matter, I got to meet you.”

The cigarette stopped an inch from touching Baji’s lips. Seriously? That’s kinda gross. But again, whatever.

From across the bar, Baji notices Draken. He squints. The boy was signaling for him. Baji gets up, the chain on his belt clinking. “Hold on. I gotta get a drink. You go finish that.”

Baji’s steps were a little wobbly as he made his way over to the wooden counter again. His skin is hot, and so is his throat. He lit the end of his cigarette, exhaling slowly as he reached Draken. The boy only offered him a look before turning around to make what Baji assumed were drinks. The girl that had tried talking to him was gone now.

Draken, who was actually still somehow wiping glasses, goes, “You shouldn’t be so close to him.”

“Huh?” Baji blinks. He looks around stupidly. “Who? Kazutora? I mean I noticed no one’s looking in his direction, but fuck’s up with that?”

“His friends are with the Black Dragons so no one tries to mess with them. You shouldn’t either.”

That just made Baji be in a bad mood. “To hell if I care. If anything shit’s pissing me off.”

Draken stopped his wiping motion just for a second. He laughs before picking a cup of something colorful. “Well, I guess you’ve always been like that,” he sighs as Baji left with his drink.

Like that? Baji wonders to himself, letting the cigarette dangle from the corner of his mouth. What’s that supposed to mean?

As he makes his way back, Baji’s steps slow. Something feels off. The chatter from the backroom is quieter now, dulled like it’s coming from behind a wall. He glances forward and realizes— Kazutora’s spot is empty. The only thing left is his half-finished drink, still cold.

Baji sets his own drink down with a soft clink.

His fingers twitch before reaching up to his mouth to pull the cigarette free. His eyes sweep the room. In the reflection of a mirror, he sees Draken. His expression is unreadable, but his hand is raised, pointing silently to the exit door. Baji cusses.

Of course Kazutora gets into some shit as soon as he leaves.

If it weren’t for the fact Baji isn’t completely drunk, he would’ve slammed the exit door open.

The heavy door creaked open with a tired groan, its sound swallowed by the bass-heavy thrum of bar music behind him, quickly echoing down the staircase. The noise faded quickly as he stepped into the narrow stairwell, the air cooler, quieter — almost too quiet. His hand brushes the railing, metal handle warm form being too long in stale air.

Blonde bangs fell into his eyes, blurring his vision. He pushed them aside with an annoyed flick.

From somewhere in the stairwell, he hears something.

Without a second thought, he makes his way down to where voices were.

It doesn’t take long before the whispers below turn into words. Baji slowed down, stopping just a flight of stairs above them. From where he is, he could see Kazutora being backed into a corner. The boy’s eyes were cast down to the floor, body hunched.

He didn’t look up.

Baji stills.

“—So now you think you’re too good for us? That it?” one of the boys sneers. His voice is bitter, and slurred.

“N-No, that’s not it,” Kazutora begins meekly. “My mom’s starting to ask questions- she’s wondering where all the money’s going-”

“The point is,” another boy cut in, “you’re our friend. You give us money. That’s how this works, remember? You stop doing your part, and we’ve got a problem.”

Almost faster than Baji can see, fist shot out and slammed into the side of Kazutora’s face. The crack echoed off the walls. Kazutora stumbled sideways, falling against the concrete with a sickening thud. The other two guys took turns to punch his face while laughing.

Blood hit the floor. His body slumped, barely holding on as they yanked him up by his collar.

“You should be grateful we still let you hang around,” he hisses. “You’re nothing without us. You’ve always been nothing.”

In the dim light, Baji watches. The overhead lights buzz softly, casting everything in that stale fluorescent wash. He exhales slowly through his nose, smoke curling upward in lazy spirals. Then, without a word, he snaps the cigarette in half, tossing the pieces aside. It’s been a while since his head felt this hot, spin this much.

Frustration. Disappointment.

Knowing himself, it’s probably both.

He looks down at the shadow next to his foot. A glass bottle, half-drained. Without thinking, he grabs it. Then, with the same ease someone breathes, he hurls it straight at the wall.

The bottle exploded on impact, glass scattering. The sound rang out like a gunshot.

The boys duck and scramble away from the impact.

“I already told you assholes to get lost,” Baji starts. “What part of it do you not get, dumbass?”

Silence.

They all look uneasy. One of them, someone with blonde hair, steps back at the sight of him.

Baji looks at Kazutora and walks over to grab his wrist. He pulls the boy to his side. “Come on, let’s go back.”

Kazutora didn’t protest. He let himself be pulled up, stumbling slightly as he leaned into Baji’s side. His face was a mess — blood smeared across his cheek, one eye already beginning to swell. He kept his gaze down the whole way out.

Outside, the cold air hit them like a slap.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Kazutora says when they were far enough. His hands were shaking.

“Why’s that?” Baji asks anyway. He notices a table full of drinks. How did he miss that? He picks one of them up. He lit a new cigarette before shoving a new can of cold beer into Kazutora’s hand. The boy opens his mouth to say something but stops. Typical.

They walked back to their seats in the corner before Kazutora continued what he was saying.

“ ‘cause they’ll hunt you down,” he says, “and make sure you suffer.”

Baji tipped his head back, downing the last bit of his watered down drink. “And?”

“And?” Kazutora repeats, almost incredulously. Baji couldn’t believe he’d ever use that word. “You’re gonna be in dan-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. So what if they did make my life hell?” Baji takes another sip of his beer. He grinned, baring his teeth. “I’m Baji Keisuke. Let them try. I’ll rip them apart.”

“Hah.” Kazutora made a sound similar to a laugh. Baji thinks it’s probably the first time he’s heard any kind of emotion from him. “Well that’s a delinquent for ya. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

Baji blinked. Somehow it feels like Kazutora was a lot less reserved now. He shakes his head. “I’m flattered to hear that, but the problem’s you. Yer way too weak. Can’t you fight back or something?”

And again, Kazutora laughs at that. It wasn’t loud or anything. Hell, Baji could barely hear him still. But he thought among all the guys he’s fought and met, Kazutora’s probably got the nicest face and voice. “Tried to. Got my ass handed back to me. I’m not stupid enough to try again.”

“Uh-huh.”

Baji stretches out his legs, arms stretching above. He tilts his face, looking at Kazutora, at his sorry face. He thinks, Wow. What kind of shit did I get myself into?

He extends one leg over Kazutora’s, then another. He sinks deeper into the sofa, letting his head rest on the pillow.

“What are you doing?” Kazutora blinks.

“This way no one’s gonna come near you if they see I’m this close to you, hm? You’re my property now."

“You sure?” Kazutora asks, barely louder than a whisper. “I’m not much to have.”

“That’s fine. Makes it easier.” Smoke settle inside Baji’s mouth. “Tora-kun.”

The name tastes right on his tongue. “I can call you that right?”

Kazutora blushes, wrapping his bony hands tighter around the beer can. A water droplet dripped onto his knuckle. “Yeah.” He gulps, voice cracking at the edges. “Yeah, okay.”

With a laugh, Baji blows a small stream of smoke to his face.

Chapter Text

“It’s your birthday today?” Baji exclaimed, bangs stuck to one side of his face.

His necklace is sideways like he just did a somersault and his voice is slurred, like he’s drunk, but he didn’t seem out of it yet. He struggled to sit upright on the sofa.

Kazutora blinked in surprise. “Yeah, why are you so surprised?”

He tilts his head, swirling the remaining beer in his can. “I mean, that’s why I’m here in the first place, right? The guys said they’re gonna treat me cause it's my birthday and all. Guess the plan went down the drain. So much for them being my friends.”

Baji snorted again and he nearly choked on smoke. “Bah, who cares? You got me, after all. Don’t think about them.”

Kazutora warily eyes the cigarette that Baji was holding, hot ashes falling to the ground. There weren’t as many people as there were an hour ago. The boy honestly doesn't remember much of what happened. Just that he and Baji kept drinking drinks, and that the next thing he knew he was almost on Kazutora’s lap. He really doesn’t remember that.

Well, his brain started, the club’s hot, and he’s cold. So it’s fine. Probably. He’s had too many drinks to care.

“But really now,” Baji hums out loud. He fiddles with his ring, twirling them in between his fingers. The metal flashes in the dim light. “You’re older than me. I thought you’d be younger.”

Kazutora blinks again. He runs a hand over Baji’s pants, idly tracing circles on his denim. His brain registers what was said a second later. “Well, how old are you, Baji?”

“14. You?”

“15. Today.”

He grins. “Not so different, huh?”

A moment passed. The music in the background had faded.

“Hey.” Baji leans in. In the bare light of the club, his fangs glinted. “Wanna make your birthday funner?”

.

.

.

You know, Kazutora’s dad is an asshole. Thats why he grew up kinda fucked up in the head. He didn’t need anyone telling him that.

He can’t remember much since his head always hurts but his dad’s always beating him and his mom up. Every night, he comes back, he’d be in a bad mood. Sometimes he wouldn’t be, but still does it. He’d take a plate and smash it against their heads. Sometimes he’d take his belt and hit them until they’re bruised and bleeding and begging him to stop.

Kazutora tries to stay out of the house because of that. He hates his mom for not helping him, and he hates his dad even more for doing all that to him. He thought he finally found his place to belong when he met Junpeke. That was when he was still starry-eyed and full of naivety. But then they betrayed him too; only wanted him for his money and nothing else.

So Kazutora thought to himself, What does that make me then? Why is everyone around bad people?

But things changed last week when he met a totally awesome guy named Baji, a boy that’s the same age as him but twice as cool. It was like he found his Prince Charming that only existed in dreams. They even smoked together, so they’re totally friends now, aren’t they?

When he went home, Kazutora got beaten up again by his dad since the smell of smoke stuck to him. He slept with new bruises that night. But for some reason, it almost didn’t matter. All Kazutora could think of was Baji and his coolness for beating up his so-called friends.

And as if the gods heard him, Kazutora meets Baji again, totally by coincidence.

It’s almost like fate, ain’t it?

Now, Kazutora stares at the back of Baji’s hair as he cusses, unsteady in his steps as they walk down to the exit. It was night by then, causing Kazutora to shiver once. Somehow the outside air was colder than inside the club. He wishes he had worn something thicker.

Baji stood there for a moment, looking around almost in a daze. “You know where Junpeke usually goes?”

“Well,” Kazutora started, nearly stumbling. He’s starting to get the hype around alcohol. His blood feels like it's on fire. He wanted to giggle but bit down his tongue. “After what you did, he’s probably throwing a tantrum somewhere. You know the park down the street?”

“Got it. We’ll pay him a visit.”

Baji suddenly looked up and walked in a direction.

“Huh?” Kazutora said dumbly, following him. “Okay.”

It didn’t take long to see that they were heading towards an alleyway behind the club. Kazutora didn’t know what he expected, but maybe not a badass looking bike parked there.

“Woah, Baji, I didn’t know you've got a sweet ride like that!”

It might’ve been his imagination but he swore Baji looked at him weirdly, but just for a moment. The boy turns and pats the bike’s leather seat. There’s a smile playing on his lips. “Oh, this old lady here? Thought I could take her out on a spin. Come on then, hop on.”

Kazutora learns what he likes at a young age. He likes rooftops because the sky makes him feel insignificant; much more than what his father makes him feel. And now as he rode along the streets. The city was dead silent as they passed over it, broken by the noises of the bike’s engines. Waters in the sewers shimmered from the glow of the bright, yellow street lamps, flickering past like they were being shot by camera.

For the first time in a while, the air feels refreshing against Kazutora’s bruised face, which was a new one. Baji’s hair ruffled as they rode on, tickling his nose. He faced the other way. He stared at the horizon where thin clouds were drifting.

“Aren't we minors?” Kazutora then asks.

Baji visibly reacts. “You're asking that now?”

“Sorry.”

“Whatever. We're almost there.”

Before Kazutora could ask what for, Baji was already slowing down the bike as they approached a downhill road. Gates of houses passed by them, panoramic. They parked behind a dumpster where the lights were mostly broken and trees shadowed where they were.

“Get off,” Baji slurred, pulling hair into a ponytail.

“Oh.” Kazutora did as he was told. “Okay.”

The air was cold enough to send a shiver down Kazutora’s neck. He looked around. Despite Baji saying they were going to find Junpeke, they were in a neighborhood he didn’t recognize.

“Hold this for me, Tora,” Baji says before throwing something at him.

Kazutora barely catches the bottle of liquid, sloshing around as he looks at it. A weird smell came from it.

“Come, follow me.”

“W- wait, what are we doing?”

It took a while before Baji answers, the two of them walking in almost complete darkness. Kazutora’s eyes were starting to adjust to the sight. He could barely make out Baji humming a tune while spinning the keys to his motorbike on another hand.

“Baji…?” Kazutora asks weakly. He flinches when Baji suddenly turns to him, grinning.

“Can’t you just be patient? What’s the use of a surprise if I’m gonna say it?” He paused. “You’re gonna love it. Rampage till dawn, yeah?”

“...”

Kazutora bit on the skin of his lip. “Okay.”

Even when Baji was climbing over the gate of someone’s house, all he did was watch the boy. Kazutora stared when Baji offered a hand to hoist him up. He swallowed his saliva before accepting it, being pulled to where Baji was more than easily. They jumped down into a garden where the windows up ahead had lights on. Someone was on the porch.

Kazutora froze.

The shadow got up, unsteady on his feet. “Hey, who the hell are you kids?” he slurred.

Almost faster than Kazutora could register, Baji was already running forward. With a sickening sound, he punched the man. The shadow immediately fell over.

“Asshole,” Baji grinned. “That’s for snitching me to my mom.”

“You know this guy?” Kazutora asked in disbelief.

“Eh, kinda. He’s always making trouble for me.” Baji turned to Kazutora. “Hey, pass me the bottle.”

Kazutora more than easily handed it to him.

They went over the gate again, this time easier than the first. Kazutora watched as Baji counted the cars in front of the house. When he got to the silver one, he stopped. The weird smell wafted through the air as the boy opened the bottle.

He started throwing it on the car, the smell only growing stronger. There was an alarm blaring through Kazutora’s head, but he stayed still even when Bahi brought out a lighter.

“Asshole,” he said again. “Rest in hell.”

Baji squatted and put the fire near a puddle. Almost instantly, the car burst into flames.

.

.

.

Rampage till dawn. That was what Baji promised.

I don’t like it. I don’t like that we lit a guy’s car on fire, Kazutora thought as he watched the inferno in front of him. Yellow and red tongue flickered back and forth, engulfing it in fire. Fire radiated off his face, illuminating the now dark plaza.

“Hey… aren’t we overdoing this?” Kazutora smiled nervously. He and Baji stood there, watching.

“My mother says overdoing is good,” Baji hummed.

Near dull eyes stared as the flames went higher, roaring. For a split second,  it seemed that light gathered in them.

“Tora,” Baji said.

Kazutora didn’t answer, just kept staring at the fire that was growing.

“I swear on this fire there’s no loss in being friends with me,” Baji continued. “From today onwards, you and I are friends.”

He turned to look at Kazutora. “We’re companions, yeah?”

Ah.

Kazutora felt something in his chest tighten.

He made a squawking sound when Baji wrapped a hand around his shoulder.

“Now, was your birthday all that bad?” he asked.

After that, everything blurred into a haze. The only thing Kazutora was sure of was that Baji’s hand gripped his, tugging him the moment someone noticed the commotion. They were both laughing — breathless, half-panicked — as they sprinted to the bike. The engine roared to life, loud enough to drown out the shouts behind them, and the two of them tore down the street, the wind whipping their faces as adrenaline still buzzed in his veins.

They eventually slowed down when they reached the park, where Kazutora said Junpeke would beSure enough, Junpeke was there, leaning casually against the railing, face lit by the glow of his phone screen. He looked up as Kazutora approached, one brow raised as if to ask what kind of trouble they’d just gotten into.

“Kazutora!” he started, starting to get on his feet. Baji had walked a few feet back, staying in where the shadows were darkest. “Where the hell had you been!?”

Kazutora came to a stop.

There were many things that he disliked: his father’s temper, his mother’s incompetence, and people that lie to him.

“Come on, forgive me, won’t you?” Junpeke continued, opening his arms as if to pull Kazutora into a hug. “The others and I were just joking around. You know how it is.”

People are stupid. His father, his mother, and now Junpeke.

They all looked down on him.

In the next second, all Kazutora saw was red. Then his fist connected to the side of Junepeke’s face.

The impact was strong enough to throw the boy down to the ground. Kazutora’s knuckles stung from power he didn’t know he had. He didn’t give the boy a second to recover.Stepping forward, he grabbed him by the collar and yanked him upright, drawing a grunt from the boy’s throat. This time Kazutora Kazutora drove his fist straight into Junpeke’s nose. The crack was sickening, echoing through the empty park.

He kept hitting him — again, and again — until his rage dulled to something tolerable. Only then did he release his grip, letting Junpeke stumble back. The boy clutched at his bloodied nose, tears streaming down his face.

Every breath Kazutora took burned like fire in his chest.

“What the hell are you doing, Kazutora!?” Junpeke choked between coughs.  “You’re supposed to be my friend!”

Kazutora advanced a step, and Junpeke flinched with a squeak, trying to shrink into himself.

Kazutora tilted his head, his yellow eyes narrowing. “I’m just the ‘cash boy,’ aren’t I? That’s how you see me.”

Junpeke’s voice cracked, rising higher with every word. “W-w-wait a minute, will you!? You’re not serious, right!? I’m sorry about what happened before, so—!” He threw his arms up to shield his face when Kazutora squatted down in front of him.

Blank irises regarded him.

“Give me that earring,” Kazutora said flatly, opening his palm.

Junpeke blinked, confused. “H-huh?”

“It’s my birthday, remember?” Kazutora’s expression darkened, the anger bubbling back to the surface. He wasn’t going to stay here any longer. “Also, it’s not ‘Kazutora’, it’s Kazutora-san, okay?”

Junpeke’s trembling fingers fumbled at his ear. With a shaky motion, he unclasped the silver earring and dropped it into Kazutora’s hand. The weight of it landed heavy in Kazutora’s palm, hotter than it had any right to be. He closed his fist around it, shoving himself upright with a final glance down at the boy who was still cowering on the ground.

Without another word, Kazutora turned and broke into a run. The night air cut against his cheeks, his heartbeat pounding louder than the scuffle had. He didn’t stop until he reached the street where Baji was waiting astride the bike, engine idling like a wild animal ready to bolt.

Baji caught sight of him, grinning wide despite the tension. “Took you long enough, Tora-kun!”

Kazutora didn’t answer. He only climbed onto the back of the bike, fingers curled tightly around the stolen earring.

“So? Baji grinned, tilting his head back like an uncanny owl. “How was it? Feel any different?”

“That…” Kazutora opened his palm, the bell inside the earring ringing softly. “That felt refreshing.”

As if it was the funniest thing he heard that night, Baji broke into fits of laughter. “Come on,” he said, before kicking up the footpeg. “I’ll pierce your ear, yeah?”

“What?” Kazutora blinked. “Right now?”

“Yeah. My house.”

And you know, something must be wrong with Kazutora because all he could do was feel his mouth turn into a grin.

“Okay,” says, “Let’s go to your house, Baji.”

He thinks that he's lost his mind.