Chapter Text
He had been in love with Sakai Jun since she joined their class in the seventh grade. She quickly became top of their class in grades, and always knew the right answer. If she didn't know it the first time, she'd keep working until she could raise her hand and definitely get it right the second time.
He knew her mother was Chinese and her father Japanese. Her parents ran the soba place that everyone loved to go to on their days off. He knew that her quirk was Ink Flow, but she never used it in school unless a particular math problem stumped her, and then she would write it out on her skin so she could see it in front of her, tangibly.
He knew she always read during breaks, but didn't know if that was because she wanted to, or if it was because she was shy. He never saw her around friends, not until they began eighth grade. Until then, she always ate alone in the cafeteria. She loved oranges. On rainy days, on his way to the cafeteria with his friends, he would see her sitting by a window and watching the rain. Sometimes she would notice him watching and smile in that way of hers, like it surprised her, and she'd look down quickly so that her bangs covered her eyes. Whenever she did that, like maybe she liked him, too, butterflies would fill him and he'd stumble over his words to hide how flustered he was. He was in love with her, and he'd never even spoken to her.
"Yo! Earth to Ichirou!"
"Just fucking talk to her!" Irinaka hissed at him during one of their breaks, back of his hand slapping against his chest to get his attention. It worked. It brought him back to Irinaka sitting on his desk and his twin, Kenji, sitting on Irinaka's desk. Kenji looked like he was trying not to laugh. Irinaka looked pissed. "Every day you do the same thing: you just stare at her. If you want to talk to her so badly, just fucking do it!"
Ichirou looked back at where Sakai sat at her desk, book out as usual, but instead of reading, she stared out the window as rain pattered their city. She would be watching the rain at lunch. He wondered if she had an orange.
Maybe today would be the day he took her one. Joined her at lunch. Asked her if she read during breaks because she wanted to or because she felt she had to. Asked her to be his friend.
But - "Nah," he waved Irinaka off, likely pissing the guy off more. He always had a short fuse, though sometimes he reacted for shits and grins and nothing else. "It's not worth it."
Ichirou wanted to talk to her. He wanted to see her fully, instead of these observations he scraped together. But there was an expanse between them. She was headed straight for the top; she was headed for success. He was the son of Yakuza, and he would likely also join the Shie Hassaikai once he was old enough. They all would. Kenji and Irinaka, too.
He and Sakai were on different paths, so he could find contentment in just watching her.
Nakamoto Ichirou was the guy who always had a smile for anyone, whether they were friends with him or not. He always had something positive to say. She was awkward and stumbled over her words and didn't always know what to say, but Nakamoto could make friends with anyone. He was outgoing and personable, and his confidence was overwhelming. His smile was like the sun, so bright that even his eyes squinted when he smiled. He could be counted on to answer their teacher incorrectly every single time, which was a feat because he did make an effort.
He was the most athletic guy in their class. When they were in quirk training, everyone always wanted to be paired with him. He could read people so well and could dissect how they had been using their quirk and talk about new ways they could use it. Partly, it was because his family ran the Quirk Dojo in town - the place that kids or adults could go to get more in-depth training and control over their quirks, or just learn martial arts. But Nakamoto was just talented in it. His nickname was Slip, because once he activated his quirk, Overlook, he used it deftly, slipping from people's vision and was able to complete the physical exercise every single time, no matter what the challenge was.
At break, she would take out her book - whichever one they were reading through for class - but would never turn a page, so focused on listening for him in the back of the class, hanging out with his friends. She wished he would come talk to her. It would be easier than trying to approach his friends and Irinaka. That boy looked like he was mad all the time, and kind of intimidated her a little, but his twin always had a joke up his sleeve.
At lunch, when she sat at the windows when it rained, sometimes she would see him, Nakamoto, and sometimes their eyes would meet and she would glance away quickly, just in case he could tell that just seeing him gave her butterflies.
She knew she shouldn't want him to speak to her. His dad was Yakuza, and she knew what that meant. She knew she should stay away. But she wished he would, anyway.
Irinaka, of all people, was the first one to speak to her.
It was a sunny day, so she was in the cafeteria with everyone else, at the table she always sat at. A shadow fell over her, and when she glanced up, she realized Irinaka was standing in front of her. Hands shoved in the pockets of his school uniform and ash blonde hair slicked back. He looked like he was trying to keep a blank expression, but he still had something about him that looked like he was pissed off.
"Sakai," he said. "You're sitting by yourself, again." He was incredibly observant. "Slip wanted to see if you wanted to sit with us but he's too fucking - sorry," he sucked in a breath, catching himself. "He's too nervous to ask you himself."
Jun looked beyond where Irinaka stood, to the table he usually sat at. Kenji, who told everyone to call him by his first name to keep him and his brother from both being referred to as "Nakamoto," was obviously trying not to laugh and failing miserably. Nakamoto had his head on the table, hands clasped over the back of his neck, and peeking up to watch the interaction unfold.
The three of them. They always sat at the same table. They were nearly inseparable. Irinaka's dad was Yakuza, too. The three Yakuza kids in the same class, all friends.
She had watched their antics from afar. Kenji was as easy going as his brother, if not more so. He never seemed to stress about anything. Always had a prank or joke up his sleeve. When the teachers called for "Nakamoto" he would always crack back with a grin, "Which one?" quick as a whip. Watching Kenji get serious, though, was like flipping a switch. He could turn off the casual, easy-going smile and get serious as easy as breathing. It was probably why all the girls liked him so much.
Irinaka Joi was the boy who had the best grades in the class. He and Jun were always at the top of the class. Best girl, and best boy, so out of the three of them, she interacted with him more often. He was organized and always dressed impeccably. He had been one vote away from being voted as class vice president, a role which he didn't seem to mind not having, but if there was an issue the class generally went to him to take care of it. Which was likely why the actual class vice president didn't seem to care for him too much. Irinaka was nice, but mostly kept to himself or kept to his friends. Kenji liked to push his buttons, and Irinaka made it easy for him.
Irinaka still stood next to her, waiting for an answer. She could join them; she had wanted to be friends with them since she saw them the first time. Even though Irinaka often lost his temper, the three boys looked nice, no matter who their parents were.
She could say yes. She could join them at their lunch table and get to know them. Maybe get to know Nakamoto. Maybe be friends with them. Maybe they needed a fourth friend. Maybe she could be that friend.
But her parents had made it clear their expectations of her, and she couldn't disappoint them. Even if speaking the words made her burn, and even if it meant that she likely would never have another chance. Even if it meant she stayed friendless.
"Thank you, Irinaka," she said, looking back up at him. "You're very kind for offering. I'm okay by myself, though."
His expression twisted for a moment before he shrugged, shoulders pulling up to his ears as looking back at his table and the twins that watched them. Was he trying to hide his reaction? Did he expect her to say that? A vein throbbed in his temple. "Well if you change your mind, join us. You look fu- you look miserable over here by yourself."
He turned, walking away, and even over the roar of the other kids all talking and laughing at once, she still heard him say to the Nakamoto twins, "She doesn't want to." Nakamoto looked crushed.
The next day after Irinaka's invitation, Nakamoto had been paired up with her in quirk training, and he had muttered out an apology to her about Irinaka. He looked embarrassed, with the slight flush to his cheeks and the fact that he couldn't look directly at her.
"It's okay, really," she'd assured him.
"Well if you ever want to, you're welcome to join us."
As much as she wanted to take him up on that over the years, she never allowed herself to. It would only hurt worse once her parents figured out who her friends were, and if they ever told her that she couldn't be friends with them.
They were in the same class every year through middle school.
By the time ninth grade came along, they were paired up for a project of some kind, and they had started talking casually, taking a break. Ichirou asked her what her plans were for after middle school. What were her goals? He'd been able to piece it together from snippets he caught her saying here and there, but he'd never gotten the courage to ask her directly until ninth grade was almost over.
She looked at him surprised, almost, but relief was also behind her eyes.
"I want to go into economics," she said, almost fondly. "Become an economic strategist." She might as well have said that she wanted to travel to the moon.
"So, you're heading to high school, then?" He asked, leaning back in his chair. She nodded and named the school. It was one of the hardest schools to get into, and she'd been accepted there. Of course she had been. "Then college, I guess?" Again, she nodded, quiet determination radiating from her.
"What about you?" He didn't expect her to ask.
His plans were nothing like her plans. "My parents would skin me alive if I didn't go to high school," he said, a joking edge to his words. Really, his mother would. And his father didn't want him joining the Hassaikai just yet. So high school it was.
"And after, will you go to university, or join the Hassaikai?" He'd never heard her speak the name before, and his surprise was palpable. "I pay attention," she said with a shrug.
"I'll probably join," he replied. She nodded, as if that answered a question in her mind.
"Should we get back to it, then?" Sakai asked, sitting up straighter in her chair. As much as Ichirou wanted to continue the conversation, grasp at his last chance to really get to know her, the project was due in two days and they had word to do.
Graduation came and went. Sakai went off to her prestigious high school, and Ichirou went to high school with Kenji. Irinaka got into some fancy high school, too, but he ultimately turned it down to stay with his friends.
He and Sakai had never exchanged phone numbers, so there was no way to keep in touch. Every so often, though, he'd visit her parent's soba restaurant on the weekends, in hopes to catch a glimpse of her or overhear her name, but he never did, and after a year of nothing, he let her go. She had huge plans for her life, but he'd be lying if he didn't hope to hear from her or hear of her someday.
High school graduation was less than a month away, but even with the promise of final exams around the corner, Jun's friends had convinced her to go to the Sakura festival. She'd put up every reason why she shouldn't, but they'd all dragged her along anyway. Really, it was their last chance to hang out before they graduated and went to their own universities.
They were standing at a food stand, waiting on their orders, when something knocked into her from behind, sending Jun careening into her friends.
As she regained her composure, she turned, ready to give the person an earful about watching where they were going, but as soon as she turned, she saw the boy she had hoped shew would one day see again, but never believed that she would.
"Nakamoto?"
In all fairness, he looked just as surprised as she did, still sprawled out on the ground where he'd bounced off of her. Kenji was next to him, Nakamoto's arm in his, as he tried to help his brother to his feet.
"Sakai?"
Her friends were whispering behind her, but she didn't turn to shush them. Rather than giving him a piece of her mind, she closed the distance between them and helped Kenji get Nakamoto on his feet.
"What on earth are you doing here?" She asked, breathless, as soon as he had rightened himself. He'd grown several inches since she last saw him, and had filled out. He and Kenji both stood a handful of inches taller than she did. The question, really, was to both of them, but before they had a chance to ask, pounding footsteps behind them announced Irinaka's arrival, and honestly, she was just as surprised to see him there, too. Confusion was written plainly on his face until he spotted her. Confusion turned to understanding, and then he turned back to the Nakamoto twins.
"What the fuck you two?" He yelled, arms spread wide.
The whole situation was too funny, and Jun just started laughing. She probably looked half insane to anyone watching, but it was just relief. Relief that she had seen Nakamoto again, and the humor from the situation.
She knew her friends were watching, and Jun tried to compose herself. Nakamoto waved his brother off as he asked, "Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"
She shook her head. "No, I'm fine," she replied, still smiling.
"I thought I saw you," he said, as if it explained everything. "I never had the courage to ask you before, but when I saw you I had to be sure." The pieces fell into place. He had seen her and raced over, somehow tripping into her instead, and that's how she ended flying into her friends. "I never had the courage to ask you before," he said again, eyes downcast, but something steeled in him, and he looked back up at her. "I want to ask you on a date."
One date turned into two, which turned into three, which turned into the entire summer. As summer came to a close, Ichirou asked her to be his girlfriend. By Christmas they were whispering "I love yous" to each other.
Was it smart? Probably not. Did her parents disapprove heavily? Absolutely. But Jun and Ichirou were in love and every day was exciting and bright.
He wasn't high enough in the Shie Hassaikai's hierarchy to take a wife and have a family - a tradition which started as the Yakuza declined around the time that quirks began appearing. But they were happy just being together, when they could.
Jun studied at university, and Ichirou gave his career to the Hassaikai, and for two years life was bliss.
Her parents' deaths should have been the first sign that their happiness could not last. There was a vehicle pile up, which occurred because of a villain that was running down the highway one evening. It was sudden and jarring, and they left everything to Jun, who was crushed by their deaths.
Then, not even two months later, the positive pregnancy test brought everything crashing down around them.
She wasn't supposed to be pregnant. She was supposed to finish university, get a good job at a financial institution, and work her way up. She wasn't supposed to have a child outside of marriage from a man who was Yakuza. Even if she loved him. That wasn't the plan.
"We can do this together," Ichirou said, his words strong. Believable. They were on the bathroom floor. Jun gripped the pregnancy test in one hand as Ichirou grasped her face tilting her head up to his, their foreheads touching.
Tears streamed down her face. Her parents were gone. Nothing was going right. "We can't get married," she said, the words quiet. "The Hassaikai won't let you. They won't let you have a family."
"Whether we're married or not won't matter. Our child will know we love them. I'll stay with you. Whether we're married or not won't matter. We'll do this together." He kept repeating it, as if he was trying to convince himself, too.
She nodded against him, wanting desperately to believe him. As long as they were together, it would be okay. They could do this. She could continue studying. It would be hard, but they could raise the child together.
Few people knew about the child. Ichirou and Jun decided to tell his parents, Hiroshi and Hitomi, which also meant Kenji and Irinaka. No one was happy about it, but there was little that could be done. Ichirou and Jun decided to keep the child, come what may, and the morning of July 17th, before the sun pierced the sky, their daughter was born.
"I don't even know what to do with a baby girl," Ichirou mused aloud to Kenji and Irinaka outside the hospital. Once the sun was high enough, Kenji dragged Irinaka to the hospital to visit his niece. Ichirou had stepped out to greet them and give Jun a few moments of rest. His parents would be up after lunch.
"We better watch out," Kenji began, the tease evident in his tone. "You're already wrapped around her finger." Ichirou glanced up at his brother, but Kenji just shook his head. "It's clear as day." He glanced back at Irinaka, who just rolled his eyes.
It was true. As the months passed, Ichirou became confident in his role as a father, and Jun embraced her role as a mother beautifully. If anything, the addition of Isane had Ichirou and Jun falling even more in love with each other. Even if they weren't an official family, they were still together.
When Jun needed to study, Ichirou would take Isane. He would take her down to the koi ponds or the parks, or to feed the ducks. Sometimes Kenji or Irinaka would join if they had a break in their day. Isane loved the swing. He would push her higher and higher, his laughter fueled by her squeals of delight.
Some days he would take her to his parents. Hitomi especially loved her granddaughter, and even if Isane didn't understand anything, his mother would show her different things she was doing, or would take her out to the dojo to show her around as her husband worked.
On the days that Ichirou had missions with the Hassaikai, Jun took over for him. She often held her daughter close as she waited for Ichirou to come through their apartment door. Praying that that night wouldn't be the night that he wouldn't come home. Praying she wouldn't get a call from his parents with news she never wanted to hear.
For ten months her prayers were answered.
It was raining the day of the funeral.
Kenji had taken Isane early in the day, allowing Jun the ability to grieve without worrying about her daughter. He'd watched her off and on over the months since her birth that even if Irinaka teased him, he could easily take care of her. If Kenji wasn't holding her that day, then his mother was holding her. His father and Irinaka even took a turn.
Jun couldn't stop thinking about oranges.
Oranges, and the days where she would catch Ichirou's eye when she sat next to the windows at lunch back in middle school.
"I don't think I can do this," Jun said to Hitomi as she watched Kenji bent over and holding Isane's hands as the child tried walking. Even with the cloud of sadness that had descended from the funeral, Isane was smiling and happy, curious, and trying to explore. "Not without Ichirou."
"You're stronger than this." Hitomi replied. They'd buried her son, but Jun and her granddaughter remained. "You can do this. You need to do it for her sake."
Jun nodded automatically. The grief of Ichirou's loss had torn a hole through her, and numbness was all that was left. She was nothing but a shell.
She tried for months. For months she pulled herself out of bed. For months she pushed herself through her studies. For months she was there for Isane, and clutched the child to her as she cried for Ichirou at night.
One night she called Hitomi, and the next evening she and Isane went over to Hiroshi and Hitomi's for dinner. After dinner, Jun put her daughter down to sleep, and joined Hitomi and Hiroshi at the table, legal guardianship papers between them.
"I can't do this. Not without him," she said, grinding the words out. Even now, three months after his death, it took everything in her not to break down and cry when she thought of him. Which was nearly all the time. Isane looked just like him.
After a long conversation between the three of them, which stretched into the early morning hours, Jun kissed her daughter and left her behind.