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It wasn’t a date. Draken swore it wasn’t.
He just was on one of his and Emma’s usual, regular shopping excursions at their favorite shopping spot in Shibuya. Nothing more.
God, he could see Mikey’s shit-eating grin now—the fucking bastard. He already wiggled his eyebrows at him at every chance he got whenever it came to him and Emma; he didn’t need even more fuel to throw onto the fucking fire, okay.
They had been going around and buying shit some time before this, going this way and that following the flow of the crowd, y’know, the usual stuff people do when they go on shopping trips. Emma was craving some ice cream about halfway through their trip, which is how they ended up here now.
Draken looked across the courtyard to where Emma was sitting, watching their—read: her—bags.
Sure, he was spending one-on-one time with her, but that didn’t necessarily classify it as a date.
They weren’t too far from each other as Draken lined up in front of an ice cream vendor—one of those little mobile carts that could be rolled around and shit—but at the same time, they weren’t close enough for people to assume that they were automatically together with someone.
He looked back to the menu. What did she want again? Ah yeah, the strawberry. Draken’s eyebrows furrowed. Or was it the cotton candy? He didn’t fucking know; it was something pink.
Then, at the periphery of his vision, he saw Emma getting approached by a figure in a red hoodie. His eyebrow lifted ever so slightly at the sight. Draken knew, or at least knew about, most of Emma's friends due to the fact they knew the same people, yet this guy wasn’t recognizable to him.
So an acquaintance, maybe.
The line suddenly moved up about half a meter and Draken glanced back at the menu on the cart, still keeping them at the edge of his vision.
Damn. What kind of ice cream did girls like again?
‘Oooooh, you could get her the chocolate chip.’ He could already hear imaginary Remi say in his head. ‘Girls always love the chocolate chip!’
‘Or you could get her the birthday cake.’ Imaginary Masawei suggested. ‘Heard girls your age now like that one.’
Sure. Like that old man knew what girls liked. He was ninety percent sure that Emma didn’t ask for the birthday cake flavor anyways. At least imaginary Remi would have some ideas so he wasn’t entirely floundering. God, it was coming to the point where he could hear them complaining in his mind now like devils that sat on his shoulders somehow.
Draken did a once-over, inspecting all the flavors one by one, before giving them another glance out of the corner of his eye.
They seemed to be talking to one another. Or, more accurately, the guy was talking to Emma and Emma was just awkwardly scooting away on her place at the bench.
When she ran out of bench to scoot down on, she stood up, protectively holding her bags up to her chest like a shield.
She was uncomfortable; Draken knew her body language—the way she backed away, putting her hands up, even as a brilliant smile graced her features. Everything about the interaction set off warning bells in Draken’s head.
So, not a good acquaintance then.
Emma looked as if she was excusing herself, but the guy didn’t seem like he could take a hint, continuing to step closer and closer towards her.
Draken observed them calmly from a distance out of the corner of his eye in case he needed to intervene.
It was fine. Emma knew how to handle herself.
She then bowed a couple times, clearly about to take her leave. And for a moment, everything was fine.
And then the guy suddenly grabbed onto Emma’s arm and Draken’s fist tightened.
Okay. That’s enough.
He barely registered the roar of blood pounding in his ears, barely registered the fact that he left the line, barely registered the angry set to his jaw, barely registered himself striding towards them until he had the dude’s forearm clenched under his crushing grip.
Draken rose up to his full height, easily towering over him.
That. Fucking. Bastard. How dare he lay his hands on her. Who the fuck did he think he was?
“You.” He yanked him by the wrist and squeezed because god he was so fucking angry. “Get your hands off of her or I’ll fucking kill you!”
The guy froze, “I—”
Draken’s grip on his arm tightened even further.
“Babe!” Emma exclaimed almost happily and Draken blinked, the sound of her voice automatically bringing him back to his senses.
She pulled out of the guy’s grasp before immediately clinging to Draken’s other arm.
“What took you so long?” She asked in a deceptively sweet manner.
“Babe?!” The guy spluttered.
Draken’s eyes widened in surprise, as if finally registering Emma’s words.
“You took for-e-ver.” Just play along, her eyes pleaded, panic subtly straining her expression before she continued, showing off her shopping bags. “My arms were getting so tired! Speaking of which!” She continued sweetly, “Have you ever met Michitake?”
“No.” Draken responded slowly, methodically, before throwing a dangerous glare in Michitake’s direction. “Can’t say I have.”
The shopping bags jostled in Emma’s arms as she held them out for Draken to take.
“Well, he’s one of my classmates in my home-economics class! I’m sure I’ve talked about him at some point, silly!” She chimed, puffing out her cheeks.
Draken only hummed in response as their—again, read: her—bags were deposited into his hands; but, he didn’t take his eyes off the guy, not even for a second.
Home-economics, huh? What a piece of shit.
“And Michitake!” Emma made a show of clinging onto Draken’s arm, her hand snug against the crook of his elbow, “This is my boyfriend, Draken!”
It was the way she emphasized the word that made his heart splutter in his chest like a dying engine.
It was fine.
This was fine.
He was fine.
She really was going to be the death of him some day. Damn.
“Oh.” The guy replied sheepishly as he ran a hand through his hair. He sounded almost disappointed. “I didn’t know you had a… boyfriend.” He said, his eyes trailing up to meet Draken’s death glare before quickly averting his gaze. Draken knew he was intimidating; he wasn’t a fucking fool.
“Well of course I do!” Emma chirped in return, her voice absolutely coated up and down with sugar. “I’ve told you countless times about him, remember?”
“Well I—” The guy stuttered. “You—”
She glanced over to Draken.
“Did you get the ice cream?” Emma asked innocently, quite obviously ignoring the acquaintance of hers.
Oh yeah. Draken had left the line.
She tilted her head to the side, her honey blonde hair rolling off her shoulder in golden waves.
“No. I didn’t.” He decided to say, voice awfully clipped.
“Awww, that’s too bad.” She pursed her lips. “I really wanted to try the pistachio!”
She would have had anyone else fooled. Emma hated pistachio.
“Yeah.” was what he decided to say. Real smooth-like.
“Well, I guess we’ll be on our way now, Michitake! See you around!” Emma flashed him a winning smile as her nails dug nervously into Draken’s arm.
The unspoken let’s leave was obvious in Emma’s eyes.
“But can’t I stay around a little longer?” Michitake stuttered, holding the back of his neck with his hand. “You said you guys were going out for ice cream, and it’s right there, so…”
Emma’s shoulders stiffened ever so slightly with this subtle dread and anger started bubbling up in Draken’s throat again.
And the guy just kept talking, his only intent clear that he still thought he had a fucking chance with her—Draken could read people; he wasn't fucking stupid. “Or at least are we still up for Friday? After all! We still have so much to catch up on—”
“Didn’t you just fucking hear her?” Draken snapped as he stepped in front of Emma ever so slightly, shielding her. “She’s taken already so fuck off and stop bothering my girlfriend.”
The guy suddenly shrunk back, bowing frantically as he started sputtering excuses and pleasantries that Draken didn’t bother listening to.
It wasn’t until the guy had safely disappeared into the crowd when Emma finally began to relax.
“Oh thank god.” Emma sighed as she dropped the act. Draken’s gaze softened at the sight of the tension leaving her body. “I thought he would never leave.”
Draken watched the crowd carefully, the colorful clash of people coming by in waves. “Who was that guy?”
Emma lifted a brow, still clinging to his arm, “I told you. He’s in my home-economics class. Weren’t you listening?”
“I was.”
Emma shot him a look.
“Okay.” Draken conceded. “I was half-listening.”
“It’s fine.”
They both watched the crowd for a couple more moments, not a figure in a red hoodie to be seen.
“He just… never leaves me alone, even when I tell him no. To be honest it was pretty scary.” Despite the casualness of her tone, Emma tensed once again just thinking about it.
“Have you told anyone about him?” Draken asked, voice sharp as he bristled against her ever so slightly; Emma knew that sharpness wasn’t directed at her.
“Honestly?” She said, watching as the masses of people pass by. “No.”
“And why not?”
“I… don’t know.” Emma confessed after a good second. “It just didn’t seem like that much of a problem.”
Oh, that answer just didn’t sit right with him.
“Emma, he makes you uncomfortable; I saw you.” Draken pointed out, his voice stern, matter-of-fact. “That sounds like a problem to me.”
“Well.” Emma paused a little, clearly thinking over it. “When you put it like that…”
She trailed off, not quite finishing her train of thought.
“Anyways, thanks.” Emma leaned her head against his arm as her fingers squeezed ever so slightly around his elbow, the pressure reassuring. “For going along with it and all.”
Draken didn’t deign her with a response, because honestly he couldn’t trust himself to say anything at that moment, suddenly all too aware of their proximity, of the way her side brushed against his.
There were a few more seconds of crowd watching before Emma spoke up again.
“So, do you want me to… uh…” She vaguely motioned to her arm linked up with his.
“No.” Draken replied a little too firmly.
“No?” Emma repeated as she turned ever so slightly to look up at him, a mild note of surprise in her voice.
Damn. He sounded too eager just then, didn’t he.
The bags rustled on his arm as Draken’s hand came up to scratch at the tattoo at his temple. “That guy’s still around, so it’s probably best that we keep this up.” He reasoned calmly. “It’ll make us more convincing.”
Emma hummed in response, that oh-so familiar mischievous ‘Sano’ gleam in her eye, because of course it ran in the fucking family.
“Well, okay then. So you don’t mind if I do—” She slipped her fingers down his arm and into his hand, “—this then right?”
“I don’t mind.”
“And—” Emma leaned her head against his arm, intertwining their fingers, “—this?”
“Go ahead.” He shot back, his voice getting all caught up in his throat, but as always, it wasn’t obvious. He made sure it was never obvious.
“You sure?” She lifted an eyebrow at him, a hint of amusement quirking at her lip.
“Yeah.” He nodded curtly. “I’m sure.”
“Okay then.” Emma announced as she began to pull him along. “Let’s go.”
Playing the part of Emma’s boyfriend came as naturally to him as breathing; Draken just slipped into the role so easily that it was almost surprising.
They walked by fountains, picked up snacks from restaurants here and there, bought a pair of couple’s necklaces—all while hand in hand.
This was treading dangerous territory, Draken could feel it.
He was well aware of his feelings for Emma, as well as hers, but he never decided to act on them. After all, it was the best course of action to protect her, but if pretending to be her boyfriend at the moment would shield her from creeps that hit on her, he would gladly do that as well.
Draken still militantly scanned the crowds of people as they went along, just in case he spotted a red hoodie lurking within the crowd. Without realizing it, he paused in place ever so slightly, before giving Emma’s hand a firm squeeze at the thought.
She looked up at him through the corner of her eye. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing. Just.” He grumbled stubbornly. “That guy.”
“Do you need a distraction?” Emma questioned.
When he didn’t respond, her gaze flickered over him for a couple moments, studying him, before she turned away and pointed to something through the crowd.
Draken followed her line of sight to a bright pink photo booth right across the street.
“Let’s go over there.” She said decisively. “I want to get photos of our matching necklaces.”
“Okay.” He nodded.
They cut across the masses over to the booth. Draken opened up the curtain for her, to which Emma automatically stepped through; after a few moments he followed her inside, drawing the curtain closed behind him.
The space was tiny, cramped, obviously only meant to fit two people, but even that was a stretch; Draken’s head could probably brush the ceiling if he stood tall enough.
“How many copies do you want?” Emma asked as she inspected the screen, webbed with these light cracks across its surface. “One for me and one for you?”
“Sure.” He replied, before taking a moment to balance their—again, read: Emma’s—hoard of shopping bags onto the thin, ledge-like bench behind them, because honestly his arms were getting a little sore. “Sounds good.”
How she managed to buy this much stuff in under an hour would always be a fucking mystery to him; like, it was genuinely impressive.
Emma hummed in affirmation before selecting the option on the screen. And, all of the sudden, the camera blinked on. The image was grainy and flipped into a mirror likeness, each of their movements delayed by half a millisecond. Since it chopped off the top half of his head, Draken had to hunch down in order to fit in the frame.
Instructions started flashing across its surface, describing for a brief second on how it all worked, before an illustration of a timer popped up in the middle and started going down from three.
And it went down fast.
Almost too fast, he thought. Draken barely even had any time to prepare before a shutter snapped and a bright white light filled the space.
He blinked, disoriented for a second before his eyes adjusted.
Okay, that was one down.
“Draken.” Emma gave a gentle tap-tap to his shoulder, suddenly catching his attention as the shutter snapped once again.
“Yeah?” He responded, watching the timer go down from three.
“Can I kiss you?” She asked almost innocuously, tapping her finger to her lips. “On the cheek I mean.”
Draken blinked, looking at her through the image on the screen.
“…huh?”
Another shutter snap.
“For the photo.” Emma supplied simply as the countdown timer started winding down once again. “It’ll make us look more convincing.”
Oh. Right.
“Sure.”
Emma then gave him a look that was almost indecipherable to him, before boosting herself up on her tiptoes. Quick as a flash, she left a peck on the cheek, the shutter snapping for the final time. And just like that, it was over, one moment fleeting to the next.
Or, it should’ve been. But, a good second passed as Emma’s hands lingered on his shoulder, the contact electric under her touch. He turned towards her, her touch shifting to his chest.
Draken cleared his throat, looking away awkwardly. “We should… probably get the photo strips.”
“Yeah.” Emma agreed, her touch withdrawing ever so slightly. “We probably should.”
He gathered the bags all back into his arms before stepping outside, keeping the curtain open for her.
The pictures were down in a little compartment by the entrance of the booth. There was a pair—one for him, and one for Emma; he picked them up before handing one to her, the film still a tad bit warm to the touch.
“Thanks.” She said; Draken hummed in response.
He looked down from photo to photo along the strip—from the look of subtle surprise on his face to Emma tapping him on the shoulder to her kissing him on the cheek—his fingers tracing over the matching necklaces they were wearing.
Draken liked keeping pictures, making it his own personal hobby to collect them, although they usually weren’t ones of himself. Instead, the ones tacked up and taped onto his walls were always of people he cared about, all containing special memories to him. Memories worth keeping.
A couple more seconds passed before he tucked it into a safe place in the pocket of his haori.
This one would be going on a special place on his wall.
They continued on their way, walking around Shibuya, but, Draken couldn’t help but notice how Emma no longer leaned against his arm like she was before, how she was withdrawing into herself, if only ever so slightly.
It didn’t seem like she was enjoying herself too much.
Draken’s mouth settled into a thin line at that.
“Hey.” He gave her a gentle nudge, the bags rustling a bit in his arms.
Emma jumped a little in place before finally looking at him. “Yeah?”
“So.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “You wanna try going for that ice cream again?”
Just as he predicted, Emma got the strawberry. They were sharing a large cup of it together, courtesy of a couples discount, and, it was pretty good, the fresh taste flooding his tongue; probably handmade.
Draken could see Emma drawing nervous circles with the toe of her shoe under the glass table as she absently twirled her spoon in her hand. She looked lost in thought. Draken knew the look.
“You can say what you want to say Emma.” He said, before putting the spoon back in his mouth.
“Huh?” Emma jumped slightly in her seat, taken by surprise. “No. I’m fine. I wasn’t going to say anything.”
Draken raised a pointed eyebrow.
“Okay fine.” Emma relented as she looked away. “There is something that’s been bothering me.”
Draken hummed as he put the spoon back down, obviously prompting her to continue.
A few moments passed as Emma gazed off into the crowd. “Y’know the whole pretending-to-be-my-boyfriend thing?”
“Mmhmm.” Draken replied evenly, giving her space to speak.
“I’m… sorry for springing it on you all of the sudden.” She admitted, before staring at the cup of ice cream in front of them. “I didn’t want to force you into playing along with me.”
Draken ever so slightly raised the other eyebrow at her, though from her angle, she probably couldn’t see it.
“I know it was all probably a part of the act—” she continued, “—all of the hand holding and such, but it probably made you uncomfortable… So, I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t mind.” He responded suddenly and Emma paused ever so slightly in her seat.
“…What?” She eventually let out, glancing up at him.
“I said I didn’t mind.” Draken repeated almost casually, before it’s his turn to look away. The store across the street was beginning to look real interesting. “I mean, the whole hand holding and necklace buying and pretending-to-be-your-boyfriend… thing.” He added, before clearing his throat. “Plus, I… liked it.”
Emma shifted forward ever so slightly in the periphery of his vision, surprise evident in her posture. “You did?”
“Uh. Yeah.” He scratched at his tattoo, because he put one foot into the grave, why not the other. “I did. Plus, if that guy’s still bothering you then that means we'll get to do this again right? So… I wouldn’t mind if we, y’know, did this. Again sometime.”
Draken finally glanced up to meet Emma’s astounded gaze.
“So don’t worry about it.” He concluded, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay?”
A good moment passed, before Emma gave him a smile—a real one this time.
“Okay.” She replied, and Draken’s heart puttered in his rib cage all of the sudden.
She really was going to be the death of him one day, and he knew it.