Chapter Text
hi everyone! this fanfiction was inspired both by peacchy's fanfiction on ao3, premonition of love, and by the k-drama "it's okay not to be okay." if anyone is familiar with it, the image i have for toshi and makoto would be similar to what mun yeong and gang tae have, but much, much less extreme and intense. what triggered this entire plot in my mind was when mun yeong said:
"safety pin and grenade: you're patient and i'm volatile."
and i said to myself: damn, that's a good baseline for an ushijima story!
for this fic i'm using a set name+appearance for the reader because it's easier for me to write that way
so with both that amazing fic and that gang tae/mun yeong in mind, i came up with an enemies-to-lovers, arranged marriage ushijima story! :D
please, if you guys read this, and check out peacchy's fic! it's a really amazing read and, like i said in the first part of this book, it's chef kiss, scrumptious, purely amazing, delicious, divine and every good thing!
here's peacchy's ushijima x reader fanfic <3 : premonition of love
comments are always appreciated! <3
ushijima nearly doesn't recognize her.
he'd seen her before in passing, during lunch time and dismissal when he was able to just barely catch a glimpse of her among the swarm of student bodies. her face was the same each time he saw her — a blank canvas that told nothing of the blending colours swirling beneath a polite smile. she had a certain presence that stood out even among shiratorizawa's prestigious crowd, one that commanded a path before her just as the red sea was split in two. each step she took sent her aura flooding into the bubble that seemed to surround her, that made her untouchable and kept anyone else from reaching out to her. regal. it was the word that ushijima first thought when they met during their first year, during a brief exchange of pleasantries when they crossed each other in an empty hallway. the black haired girl whose smile was like a faint brush of the wind, ushijima couldn't help but think that her eyes seemed lonely. just like the moon that shone so brightly in the night sky, it was destined to shine from a place far away, placed high up on a pedestal where no hand could ever hope to hold it closely.
ah, but that was none of his business. first year ushijima wakatoshi decided that he had better things to worry about.
it's at the beginning of his second year when he learns just how involved she would become in his life. as he presses his hands against his knees, he feels like his head might begin spinning when he meets the pair of midnight blue eyes staring back at him impassively. the uchida makoto that his mother introduces as his potential fiancé isn't the politely smiling girl that he saw in the hallways. instead, there's a cold, cold woman whose eyes burn like arctic ice, her countenance seeming to cause the cups of tea before them to turn cold and the hairs on the boy's neck to prick uncomfortably. what used to be a mere bubble that kept everyone else at arm's length was now a gaping chasm that sought to put as much distance possible between herself and ushijima's family.
"thank you for accepting our proposal, ushijima-san." the man that sits across from him and his mother has his back straight and a smile that means all business. uchida shinsuke's salt and pepper hair is combed back so that his handsomely aging face is framed nicely, and the black suit and wine red tie he dons is ironed to perfection. the king of sendai's downtown, he has the entire shopping district in a tight fist, managing malls and big shopping centers under a broad monopoly. there's a pride to his countenance that boasts his status, just like the heavy gold watch that sits on his left hand.
his daughter wears a dark blue that flutters loosely around her slender figure. her long black hair falls in gentle waves, tucked behind one ear to show off the dangling earrings that glitter like precious stones. her unsmiling lips are painted over with matte red lipstick and a silver bracelet adorns her slender wrist. like her father, she sits with her back straight, but she sits further forward on the edge of the seat, legs delicately tucked so that they're leaning aside from her body — ushijima assumes it's to accommodate the length of her heels. there's no mistaking the chill that seeps out of her body as she pointedly avoids looking in his direction, but he can't entirely find fault in her for being unhappy in their current situation.
"uchida-san," his mother politely nods her head at the man sitting across the coffee table, all pleasant airs and playing the respectful host that welcomed them into their living room. "it's a pleasure to have the both of you with us today." where the pair that sits inside her living room dress for a runway, ushijima chiyoko settles for a simple yet elegant white blouse and a broad, black skirt that spreads out loosely from her slender waist. just like makoto, she sits closely to the edge and folds her legs to the side of her body, with her hands neatly holding each other in her lap. ushijima himself doesn't boast much to his attire outside of the maroon button up shirt and his black pants. he doesn't see the purpose in over complicating his attire when he would be inside his own house.
not one to waste time with unnecessary small talk, his mother reaches for the manila folder that sat next to her, her white-painted fingers flipping through the pages that provides her with the information she needs for their arrangement.
"makoto-san," she calls out to the girl, momentarily pausing with her motions so that she could smile at her. "would you like to see the gardens while you wait? it'll take some time for your father and i to talk over the details of your engagement."
"oh, i don't mind—"
before she could offer her answer, her father's voice fills the space between them and silences her. ushijima doesn't miss the way her red lips press together or how the hand wearing the silver bracelet clenches into a fist. "that would be great, ushijima-san!" he says cheerfully, grinning as he eagerly urges his daughter up. "go ahead and stretch your legs for a bit, hm? get some fresh air."
accepting his response, his mother nods towards ushijima, still wearing the cordial smile that she gave to makoto. "show her to the gardens wakatoshi. it'll be good for you both to spend some time together."
"alright." he's never the son that should argue against his mother's word, and so he only exchanges a brief glance with his guests before rising from his seat, not checking to see if she followed behind him. the sound of her tall heels against his wooden floor is answer enough for him let's him know that she isn't far behind.
their journey through his house is silent, filled only with the click-clack of her thick heels as he guides her down the long hallway. ushijima himself doesn't try and break the barrier that stands between them, he can't bring himself to when his own mind is muddled with the thoughts of their current predicament. he's certain that she's thinking of it too when he glances to see her red-painted lips pursed tightly, void of that polite smile he got used to seeing her wear. her brows are furrowed and her eyes wouldn't lift to meet his stare, she keeps her gaze trained on the stretching length of hallway that lies ahead. even in her silence, ushijima can feel the traces of a violent storm that swirls beneath a curtain of midnight blue.
it's a strange feeling to consider everything that's happened so far, he thinks. engaged, their hands promises to their families in marriage at the beginning of their second year in high school. the weight of it all feels bitter on his tongue as the words of his mother resurface in an unbidden memory.
"if you aren't going to continue our business, then i'll need to bring someone in who will."
something bubbles in his chest as recalls that night, a phantom of the burning sensation he felt when chiyoko issued to him an ultimatum. "it's either you get married and bring someone into the family who can manage our business, or you quit volleyball and do it yourself." she left no room for argument, choosing to ignore the way her son's hands clenched over their dinner table, bidding him away with pointed indifference when he dismissed himself early from their meal. he knew she would think nothing of it, and that she expected him to go along with what she wanted of him like an obedient son.
she was right.
ushijima doesn't want to get married; that's the simple truth of everything. he's never even given thought to marriage or even a relationship before his mother brought it up to him three weeks ago. before then, he'd already dedicated his future to volleyball despite chiyoko's wish for him to go into their business, and that alone was an uphill battle that he'd just barely won against. now, he doesn't feel like this was something he could go against. he'd already pushed his luck by pursuing volleyball. surely his luck and stubborn streak would only carry him so far.
soon, he leads makoto to a sliding door, his hand reaching to fit into the crevice and pulling it to the side to reveal to them a part of the garden. the night air caresses his skin and brushes his hair back with the tenderness of an affectionate lover, yet it does very little to wash the tension away from his shoulders. a heavy breath falls from his lips as he mindlessly looks over the scenery before him. the silver light from the moon spills out over green grass blades and tree leaves, droplets of mercury and liquid metals flow down from flower petals and gather into puddles that shine like her dangling earrings on the pond surface.
"ushijima-san."
her voice is quiet when makoto calls to him from behind him, causing him to turn so that he could meet her eyes. she's beautiful, ushijima won't deny that. her skin soaks up the moonlight and looks almost as if it glowed, and her dark eyes shine with the reflection of the pond. even with her heels, she has to tilt her neck to see his face, and yet that did nothing to dull even a slight ounce of her presence. she's the picture of composure, an empress whose eyes are alight with her ambitions and her hunger to rule. regardless of their height difference, uchida makoto still holds herself up on her pedestal, refusing to hide herself in the face of a giant.
ushijima watches a dainty hand comes up to tuck a few strands of hair behind her left ear. even that action itself is careful, blending perfectly into the garden scenery that embraces her as if she were one of its own flowers. a gentle breeze flutters her dark blue dress so that it sways around her like an illusion; she looks like an illusion, a figment of his imagination that appears to him on a cold and chilled evening.
"call off the engagement."
and just as the night is cold, so is the voice that brings him from his waking dream, reminds him that the empress before him is an unwilling party in a business arrangement. a girl of sixteen, just about to enter her second year of high school who's being thrust into an arranged marriage by her father. she's the second main character in a story of teenagers born into business families, who could do nothing but obediently follow their parents' word as they built their futures together.
"i can't." he answers. it's a fact. he really can't argue with his mother. it's a fruitless endeavour, one he just barely managed to save himself from before carelessly throwing his bare neck to the butcher's blade. whatever he tries to say to his mother would only be met with a brick wall, and he would have no choice but to relent.
makoto doesn't seem to agree. he sees something light up in her eyes before she's able to reign it back in with a compressed inhale, one that barely manages to shift her shoulders out of place.
"try."
it's not a request. there's something so uncomfortably familiar about her tone that stirs the still waters of his chest, beneath which lurks the behemoth that comes out on the court. the one that spits in the face of his opponents with all the power and dominance befitting of a ruler. he's bewildered at the sensation — why does he feel it now of all places? he isn't competing for his team's spot in nationals, before him stands no formidable foe or hopeful adversary, so why does the hair on his neck prickle with that particular kind of thrill? clenching one large hand by his side, he regains his control and meets those midnight blue eyes once more.
"that's useless." his deep voice echoes across the open space. "i've already tried to talk to my mother. she won't change her mind." he doesn't wish to have a discussion like this, one where they would be doing nothing but circling around each other in a twisted, fruitless dance.
makoto's eyes flutter away for a quick second before returning to find his, her arms coming up to fold over her chest as her brows furrow just slightly. "listen, i really don't want to get married off this way." she huffs. one finger begins to tap hastily against her upper arm. "it's the same for you, isn't it? if the both of us say something, they have to listen, don't they?"
ushijima has only ever seen confidence on her face, even when she was smiling and keeping the world outside the reach of her little bubble; there was never anything short of security in herself, no room left behind for something like doubt or fear to settle around her heart. and yet, as he sees her standing in his garden, he catches a glimpse of her glaciers breaking and crumbling down. what he sees is the slightest bit of that foreign fear and desperation flickering with the moonlight, and it comes and goes so quickly that he wonders if that, too, had merely been but a figment of his imagination.
shaking off the odd feeling that comes crawling up his neck, he presses his lips together and, just as she has her arms, brings his to fold over his broad chest. the motions cause his maroon shirt to pull tightly on his shoulders. "you already know that it won't work." he dismisses her, wishing that she would quickly drop the topic. "like i said — it's useless. my mother's determined to see this through and, from the looks of it, so is your father."
a beat of silence passes between them, makoto's cold eyes narrowing into a glare and her red lips pulling into a scowl. ushijima remains impassive in the face of her growing frustration — it wouldn't serve him any use to get angry, and he wishes that she would understand that as well. her chin tilts upwards so that she meets his eyes of olive leaves and deep green, and in them he catches the relentless fire that burns on a cold flame.
"i refuse to get married to you."
"you have to."
a scoff sounds out from behind her pursed lips. "i don't, and i won't."
for the second time that night, ushijima feels the still waters of his heart stir up inside his chest with its overwhelming familiarity. it only grows stronger and more profound with each passing second that they hold each other's eyes for, and he wonders why it comes to him in a place like this. there is no net standing between them, and yet he feels his mind go numb with the pressure of contest and competition. the feeling is exactly the same that he gets whenever he meets teal and white jerseys on the court, when a certain setter so stubbornly glares at him from the other side of the net and spits in petty rebellion. it's the feeling that twists ushijima's heart as he watches that skilled player stomp on the hard, blaring truths that bind him to infertile soil — "aoba isn't a team that will allow you to grow," — refusing to listen to cold logic and bending willingly into his own ignorance. just like that grand king, the empress before him refuses to back down, dark blue eyes sharpened by a bitter knife and showing just the faintest hint at the burning flames that seek out destruction.
he's slow to realize it, but he feels incredibly, undoubtedly annoyed.
he draws a deep breath and closes his eyes, trying to quell the crashing waves that bash against his throat. the cool air helps him reign that annoyance into mild irritation so that when he opens his eyes again, he's able to remind himself that this isn't a match and she isn't competition. he's not on the court, he isn't spiking volleyballs over the net. there's no need to allow her under his skin like this. huffing the last bit of his intense emotions out through his nose, he looks away before she does and instead, chooses to watch the motionless surface of the pond beside them. he tries not to think of the way her eyes reflect the moonlight just like the water. "uchida-san," he starts, the words swimming slow in his mind like molasses. he chooses the ones that he thinks will get his point across in the most blunt, point blank manner. "it's better if you don't fight it."
he takes a chance to meet her eyes once more. what he sees there erases what calm he had managed to regain and lights a fire underneath his skin. even with her face as still and impassive as the surface of the pond, the glaring spikes of ice shine so brilliantly in her eyes and do nothing to hide the rapid beginnings of her fury and a merciless winter.
the empress is livid, but—
"give up."
the emperor was never one to back down.
it starts slowly, like a phantom that brushes its finger against the throne of the reigning monarch, but the smile that crawls across her red lips is unmistakable. it's the one she gives to her classmates and teachers, cordial and polite, and he sees the uchida makoto who greeted him in the hallway. and yet, it's different. this smile brandishes bitterness and stubborn will, sharpened by rebellion and lined with poison. she hums and maintains her locked gaze with him as she draws closer. her footfalls are quiet atop the grass — one, two, it takes exactly seven steps for her to stand directly in front of him, forcing him into her bubble so that all he sees is her. her lips part and he finds that his eyes follow each curve and shape that she makes with them as the smell of sugar and vanilla invades his senses.
"you know," her tone is sickly sweet and drips with dark honey. her very image before him is a great deception, her smile lies to him and fills his mind up with the picture of the lonely school girl he sees between assemblies and during dismissal. but her midnight blue eyes lay bare to him every sharp spear of ice that lurks beneath warm waters; they pierce beneath his flesh from this close to draw drops of molten lava from his blood.
"i never took ushijima wakatoshi for a spineless coward."
look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it.
ushijima refuses to be the first to back down from whatever she initiated, determined not to be the first to walk away from this petty competition she started. her eyes search his face languidly, as if picking apart his walls and laying whatever she finds there is nothing but a pass-time to her, as if what she sees doesn't even begin to impress her. just as she did before, he says his words slowly. they rumble out in deep timbers that vibrate in the depths of his chest.
"it's cowardly to see the truth staring right at you and refuse to accept reality for what it is."
makoto chuckles, her eyes fluttering downwards in a brief moment before she returns them to meet his. "does believing that make it easier for you to accept this?"
he doesn't give a response, she doesn't wait for one. with all her grace and elegance, makoto turns on her heels and walks away from him with silent footfalls, her form glowing under the moonlight as she gets farther and farther from him. regal, he remembers the first time he met her for no more than a few seconds, when she smiled at him and nodded her head so politely. now, as he stands beneath the watchful moon and her bed of stars, he thinks that the word is no less adequate in describing her, but he learned more about the mysterious empress whose hand is promised to him in marriage. with only the night sky as their witness, she showed to him a cold and ambitious ruler who refuses to bend to the will of someone else, be it a parent or destiny.
something about that stubbornness drives cold knives beneath his skin and twists with an irritating persistence that he wants to silence. it perplexes him in every sense of the word as to why she fights so viciously against something that she must have known couldn't be changed. ushijima knows all too well that their marriage would be inevitable, no matter if he kicks or screams or claws his way out of it. his rebellion would change nothing, and he doesn't say that out of pessimism. it's the cold and unchanging truth; he wishes that makoto would also realize that as well, that she would wake up from her idealistic dream and come face to face with reality.
with his head turned up toward the sky, he sighs, feeling the exhaustion of a long and intense rally wash over him. the sensation causes his head to spin and leaves him dazed in the wake of her departure. yes, uchida makoto is regal, he doesn't deny that fact, but he believes that she's delusional and stubborn.
how is he meant to marry someone like that?