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Takemichi and Sanzu had gotten off on the wrong foot from the very beginning. Ever since Mikey tossed him to Mucho and his division, the younger, blue-eyed boy was always at odds with the other. He remembers the sneer that came from Sanzu the day that Mucho introduced Takemichi to his vice-captain.
“Weakling. You’re gonna drag the 5th Division down.”
And, while Takemichi knew that he wasn’t the strongest, it didn’t mean that he was going to simply take it from someone who he just met. So, with a snarl, Takemichi bit back,” I won’t .”
And to Mucho and Sanzu’s surprise, Takemichi’s presence in the division hadn’t slowed them down. It was quite the opposite. While Takemichi wasn’t the strongest fighter in Toman, he had the most guts and the most spirit. He charged in without a thought, protecting his comrades and his division. When shit hit the fan in fights, Takemichi was there to rally the troops. And, when it came to traitors and rats, Takemichi was the best at interrogating them. It was probably his calm and friendly demeanor that disarmed the traitor; lulling them into a false sense of security. Takemichi would get close to them, charm them, and glean all their secrets from them in an efficient and calm manner. Sure, Sanzu missed the days when he got to beat those rats an inch away from death, but even he had to admit that Takemichi’s presence did not drag their division down.
Despite all that though, Takemichi and Sanzu never seemed to see eye-to-eye. For Takemichi, Sanzu was someone he struggled to deal with. He wasn’t good with people who he thought hated him. And Sanzu had made it very apparent that he didn’t like Takemichi from the get-go. So their relationship was always sour. Prickly. They were like cats and dogs and never got along with each other–-to the point that Mucho had come up with a rule that Sanzu and Takemichi could never be left alone together without another person with them, unless they wanted their vice-captains in casts.
But lately–- lately… Takemichi had been noticing something about the other that he never noticed before; a change in his behavior.
Sanzu mumbled–-a lot.
And it drove Takemichi insane.
Because every time Sanzu mumbled something, Takemichi had to lean into Sanzu’s space to hear him better. And lately, leaning into the other vice-captain’s space flustered Takemichi.
He tried to understand why he felt that way and came to the only logical conclusion: he hated that Sanzu could speak so quietly and force Takemichi to get closer to hear what he was saying. It was like some sick power trip, Takemichi thought. It was like Sanzu enjoyed having him play right into his hands–-which was a totally Sanzu-like thing to pull.
And Hanagaki Takemichi hated that the most.
Sometimes, after a group meeting, Sanzu would stand to the side, turn his head towards the younger and mumble god-knows-what. It didn’t help that he wore a mask either, but Takemichi knew that the other was smirking at him with his stupid, pretty face. And so Takemichi would put a hand up next to his ear, wrinkle his nose and go,” Huh?”
Most times, the older man would roll his eyes and turn away, but there were times when Sanzu would hook a finger into his mask and pull it down to expose his mouth…only for him to mumble again. This would then force Takemichi to storm up to the other, lean into his space, only to hear Sanzu murmur,” You look stupid.”
There were other occasions too. After gang fights, when the 5th Division huddled together to take care of their wounds, he and Takemichi would often sit by each other since they were waiting for Mucho’s next orders.
Sanzu, when he decided to speak, would speak so softly that Takemichi had to scooch over so they were sitting hip to hip, his ear next to Sanzu’s mouth as the older would repeat what he had said. Times like these were especially frustrating and confusing to Takemichi; when he felt Sanzu’s breath on his face or when Sanzu’s platinum blonde hair would tickle Takemichi, Takemichi’s stomach would do little flip flops and he could feel his face heat up.
And whenever he felt this happen, the younger man would leap up, as if he had gotten electrocuted by the 5th division vice-captain. He’d then stammer something stupid and storm off to find Chifuyu or another. It was an automatic reaction that he couldn’t help–-but at least when he ran away from Sanzu, it got his mind off of the weird feeling in his tummy and his hot, red face.
There were other times when this would happen as well. Sometimes (more often than before, Takemichi realized), Sanzu would offer to meet up with him before meetings so that they could walk to the shrine together. And when they walked down the road, he would mumble something so quietly that Takemichi would have to match Sanzu’s pace and walk right next to him, shoulder to shoulder. And then–- and then!!-- sometimes, their hands would brush together and Takemichi would feel embarrassed by it all. It made him want to kick the other man. He didn’t though and Takemichi resorted to keeping his hands in his pockets every time they were together.
There were times when Sanzu yelled though; it wasn’t often that Sanzu would yell. But that was only when he was mad–-usually mad at Takemichi. He’d sneer at the dyed-blonde, calling him smelly or a loser. Sometimes he’d taunt the other into a fight, to which Mucho would step in with a groan. Sanzu was a quiet guy who never bothered to speak if it wasn’t necessary (which was most of the time), so Takemichi would still get caught off guard whenever the scarred man’s voice would raise up in volume.
But, if Takemichi ignored the insults and the taunting, he actually was glad that Sanzu was shouting at him. That way he could stand at a distance and listen and not have to get close to the other. He didn’t have to think about the flips and the flops pooling in his belly or feel his face burn.
But then, when Takemichi thought about that , there was a little, traitorous voice in the back of his head wishing that Sanzu would mumble whatever he wanted to say. That way, he could lean into the other’s space, see those pretty, icey blue eyes up close and smell that light but nice cologne that Sanzu had started to wear recently. But then, at the thought of all that, his heart would start racing and a million butterflies would explode in his stomach. He couldn’t–- didn’t–- want to unpack that thought, so often he would just flip Sanzu off, much to the other’s ire.
Sometimes, very rarely, their division would go out for food to celebrate a victory or just to encourage camaraderie amongst the group. It was on one of these occasions, after a particularly rough gang fight that made the 1st and 5th Division head out to the nearest family diner to celebrate, that Takemichi made a startling discovery.
He was often told that he was incurably oblivious. Atsushi once said that an elephant could be doing the can-can in the middle of a park and he wouldn’t even notice it. Takemichi felt insulted by such a statement, but he had to admit it… he wasn’t too observant or smart to worry about that kind of stuff. The blonde chalked it up to preferring things to happen upfront. Blunt. At least then he wouldn’t have to think about shit.
But on that day, Takemichi made a very important observation. It wasn’t an earth-shattering one, but it was one that made Takemichi feel just a little bit more flustered than before.
Sanzu mumbled on purpose and he didn’t do it for everyone.
In fact, he only mumbled to Hanagaki Takemichi.
At the diner, crammed into one large booth, sat Mucho, Takemichi, Sanzu, and one other person in their division. On the other side was the 1st division with Baji, Kazutora, Chifuyu and one of their guys. Takemichi had been chatting away with the other 5th division member and Chifuyu at the same time–-something about manga and the latest Shonen Jump release. They had been chatting animatedly and the other guy had started to get really excited. Before Chifuyu and Takemichi could reply back to the dude, Sanzu sent a sharp glare at the other member, silencing him immediately. He flinched and bowed his head a little, looking upset. A sigh escaped the other vice-captain, followed by a mumble. Their fellow division mate looked up, expecting it to be an apology.
He leaned closer to Sanzu, breaching his bubble and brushing his shoulder with Sanzu’s, asking,” What did you say?”
Immediately, Sanzu moved back and away from him, frowning darkly. He pulled down his mask and mumbled again, this time looking vaguely to his right–to Takemichi.
Takemichi squinted at Sanzu, but leaned in and strained his ear to hear what the other had said. He could feel their shoulders press together and he could smell the other’s cologne being this close (was that jasmine?). Takemichi felt his heart pumping a beat faster but he willed himself to calm down. Instead, he grunted,” What the hell did you say?”
It was at this moment that Takemichi picked up on something: not only did Sanzu not move away from him, as he had done with their fellow member, but in fact… Sanzu moved closer to Takemichi, repeating himself quietly. "You eat like a fuckin’ pig.”
For a second, Takemichi almost stood up to slug him, but before he could snarl back an insult, he became abruptly aware at how close he was to Sanzu. He snapped his jaw close with a click, his retort dying on his tongue. He glanced at the others across the table and at Mucho, neither party noticing anything irregular about all this.
Was Takemichi hallucinating?
He frowned and picked up his chopsticks to finish his food. Unfortunately at some point, Kazutora and Baji had snatched up almost half of his plate. He groaned at their cackling and looked up for a waitress to order more food. After placing another order for a parfait, somewhere in the middle of Baji and Kazutora’s teasing, came a quiet voice, barely above a whisper from his side.
The other 5th division member cocked his head and leaned into Sanzu again. And Sanzu, again, leaned back out.
The scarred man repeated his comment, even quieter than before. Upon noticing this, Takemichi leaned in. And Sanzu leaned in further , his voice mumbling,” You’re going to get fat.”
At this point, Takemichi didn’t care what Sanzu said.
‘ Fuck,’ he thought. ‘ What the fuck does this mean?’
Upon realizing how uncharacteristically quiet he was, Takemichi gave a half-assed growl, flipped off Sanzu, and received the other parfait that the waitress had brought to him. As he shoveled the dessert into his mouth, he could feel it happening; the flippity flops in his stomach and the quickening pace of his heart. And while Takemichi entertained the thought of observing the phenomenon that was Sanzu Haruchiyo even further, Takemichi didn’t like how uncomfortable it all made him feel. So after downing the parfait in record speed, Takemichi shot up in his seat.
“I’m gonna go home,” he said. “ I totally forgot I had something to do. Thanks for the meal, Mucho-san!”
There was a confused grunt from his superior and protests from the 1st division, but Takemichi refused to hear them out. Mucho turned his body and let Takemichi out from the booth and he raced out the diner immediately.
There was only one thought in his mind as he hopped onto his bike and zoomed out the parking lot:
When others leaned in, Sanzu leaned out.
When Takemichi leaned in, Sanzu leaned in further .
As he parked his bike back at his house and stumbled back into his room, he threw himself on the bed and pressed his face into his pillow.
What did that shit mean?
He laid there to the point that his pillow almost suffocated him, when he had another thought: maybe Sanzu knew that Takemichi’s stomach was doing gymnastics in his body. Or maybe Sanzu could hear his heart thump-thumping in his chest? Was Takemichi’s face radiating heat when he turned red and could Sanzu feel it?
Was Sanzu doing all this to make him feel uncomfortable?
But… but why did Takemichi feel that way? Why on earth did it make him so uncomfortable? And flustered. And angry. And flip-floppy. And-and fluttery–that’s what butterflies do right? Flutter? Takemichi groaned and ran his hands through his hair, ruining his styled up-do. He kicked his feet off his bed and sat on the edge, his elbows resting on his knees. He threaded his fingers together and placed his chin on top, thinking.
This was all very frustrating. It was frustrating that Sanzu was doing all this, but it was even more frustrating that Takemichi was reacting like this.
‘Fine,’ he thought after a long while. If Sanzu wanted to play dirty to get Takemichi feeling on edge, then Takemichi would be an idiot to let this happen any longer.
Two could play at this game.
The very next day, Mikey called a meeting to discuss last night’s gang fight. Following Mikey’s text ordering them all to meet at Musashi Shrine, came another text.
A text from Sanzu.
‘ Meet up at the usual spot?’
Takemichi flipped his phone open and replied back,’ Yup.’
Takemichi arrived at their meeting place, a small parking lot near a convenience store that was 15 minutes away from Musashi Shrine by foot. At the parking lot, with a can of soda in hand, was Sanzu.
Takemichi inwardly smirked.
He parked next to the other and the scarred man tossed the can into the trash. He nodded towards the direction of the shrine and the two 5th division vice-captains began walking.
About five minutes into their walk, Takemichi mumbled something.
He saw Sanzu turn his head from his peripheral vision and Takemichi mumbled it again, even softer than before. The platinum blonde took a step even closer than before, their shoulders touching again and Sanzu’s hair brushing against Takemichi’s cheek. The smell of jasmine wafted in the air.
Quietly, Sanzu asked,” What did you say?”
As if on slo-mode, Takemichi stopped and leaned in towards Sanzu. Inch by inch, his ocean blue-eyes focused solely on icey-blue ones. And it became very obvious that Sanzu’s stoic front had wavered in that moment because, incredibly, the older man’s cheeks turned pink and his eyes widened in shock before Sanzu jumped back hastily. Takemichi stared at Sanzu with delight–he did it! He won!
He finally broke Sanzu Haruchiyo!!
Whatever Sanzu had been doing to Takemichi with all his damn mumbling, Takemichi was able to do it back to him! He had given the other a taste of his own medicine at long last.
He could help but shout with glee,” I knew it, you sneaky bitch!!”
Sanzu’s eyes widened comically, the rosy pink reddening in an instant. Apparently, Takemichi’s revelation to whatever Sanzu was doing was startling. But before Sanzu could explain, Takemichi crowed triumphantly,” You thought you could get me feeling weird and shit with all your stupid mind games, but ha! I beat you at last!! How’s it like to finally be on the receiving end, you prick? Don’t you ever underestimate Hanagaki Takemichi!”
As Takemichi panted from his little speech and finally came down from the high of his victory, did Sanzu make a noise–-a laugh.
Sanzu Haruchiyo laughed .
And it wasn’t the rare, mocking laugh that Takemichi would receive from the other. This laugh was different. It sounded like Baji when he had heard from Chifuyu that Peke J was going to be okay after his vet visit. Or when Smiley went up to check on Angry to make sure he didn’t get too beat up after a fight. Or, or when Emma had laughed at the sight of a beat up, but bashful Draken after worrying her all night. It sounded relieved .
When Sanzu finally stopped and had recovered, a smug grin was back on his face. He turned his head and whispered. Takemichi, driven by habit, took a step forward and leaned in (and upon realizing he had done that, grew red with fury at being caught again ). But this time he stayed still and acted like this didn’t bother him.
In the next second, a curtain of platinum blonde blocked his vision for a moment. Takemichi blinked and suddenly realized how close Sanzu had gotten. He was so close to the younger one that Takemichi could see Sanzu’s pores. Once again, the smell of jasmine permeated in the air and Takemichi felt himself get caught by those blue eyes once more.
“I don’t think you get it yet,” said that all-too-familiar voice in his ear. With every word a small puff of air tickled Takemichi’s ears and made his hands twitch. “It’s not a mind game and you sure as hell didn’t beat me at it.”
Takemichi could feel his heart racing now and his legs shaking. Sanzu pulled back and grinned smugly at him.
“Maybe you’ll figure it out eventually.”
He turned and walked away, leaving Takemichi frozen in the middle of the sidewalk. A second later, Takemichi jumped and hurried after Sanzu, cursing under his breath. As he finally caught up to the other, Sanzu glanced over at him and leaned down just enough that Takemichi heard him say something , but not close enough for him to hear exactly what.
So with his hands shoved back into his pants and with his heart hammering in his chest, Takemichi leaned back in, closer, to hear.