Chapter Text
In the heart of Tokyo, under a blanket of twilight, the air is thick with the tension of a Toman meeting. The abandoned warehouse where they gather is filled with the hum of voices and the faint smell of cigarettes. The members of Toman, clad in their black uniforms, are scattered around, some leaning against the walls, others sitting on crates, all with their eyes on their leader, Mikey.
Through a small, rusted window, a pair of determined eyes watches. Y/n, with hair as dark as the night sky and a defiant spark in his gaze, resembles his late brother Shinichiro more than he'd ever admit. He's supposed to be at the dojo, but instead, he's here, his heart pounding with both fear and excitement.
The meeting is in full swing when Y/n decides to make his move. He slips through the window, his small frame agile and silent. Landing with a soft thud, he darts behind a stack of crates, his breath coming in short, excited gasps.
Mikey, perched on a makeshift throne of stacked boxes, is speaking, his voice carrying authority yet tinged with the sadness of loss. His eyes scan the room, sharp and all-seeing, until they land on the slight movement behind the crates. His expression shifts from calm to stern in an instant.
"Y/n," Mikey calls out, his voice echoing in the warehouse. The room falls silent, all eyes turning towards the crates where Y/n now stands, caught. His face, a mirror of Shinichiro's, flushes with embarrassment but quickly sets into a stubborn glare.
"I'm here to join Toman!" Y/n declares, his voice high-pitched yet filled with an unwavering resolve. His fists are clenched at his sides, mimicking the pose he's seen Mikey adopt countless times.
Emma, standing at the edge of the crowd, shakes her head, her scolding already on the tip of her tongue. "Y/n, you should be at the dojo. Grandpa's going to be furious."
Mikey steps down from his perch, his steps deliberate. "No, Y/n. You can't join. It's too dangerous."
"I’ll overthrow you then!" Y/n shouts back, his voice echoing off the metal walls, a mix of childish defiance and a deep-seated desire to be just like his brother.
The room erupts in murmurs. Takemichi, who had been quietly observing, feels his heart race. The idea of Mikey having a little brother, one so headstrong and bold, was both endearing and terrifying.
Mikey kneels in front of Y/n, his eyes softening. "You're brave, just like Shinichiro. But bravery isn't just about fighting. It's about knowing when to step back."
Y/n's resolve wavers, his eyes misty with the complex emotions of admiration, grief, and youthful rebellion. The scene captures the essence of family, legacy, and the struggle between protecting one's kin and allowing them to grow into their own strength.
— — — — —
At the Sano residence, the afternoon sun casts a warm glow through the windows as Takemichi and Draken approach, carrying bags of food for a promised lunch with Mikey. The door swings open to reveal Y/n, his expression a mix of mischief and annoyance. Recognizing the visitors, he decides on a playful rebellion, slamming the door shut in their faces with a defiant smirk.
Draken's reaction is immediate; his fist slams against the door with a thunderous knock, the sound resonating through the house. Y/n, unfazed, returns to his toys scattered in the living room, his little world of plastic heroes and battles.
From upstairs, Emma descends, her voice sharp with reprimand, "Y/n! What are you doing?" She opens the door, offering an apologetic look to Takemichi and Draken, who try to suppress their amusement.
Mikey, hearing the commotion, strolls in with his usual nonchalance. "What's all this noise about?" His eyes land on Y/n, who's pretending to be deeply engrossed in his play, though his ears are clearly tuned to the conversation.
Still sulking from being denied a motorcycle ride earlier, Y/n's mood is sour. He huffs, crossing his arms defiantly, "I don't wanna sit with them."
Despite his protests, Y/n is gently ushered to the dining table where Takemichi, Draken, and Mikey begin to set up the meal. The table is soon filled with the aroma of home-cooked food, the chatter of friends, and the clinking of dishes.
Y/n, forced to sit amongst them, pouts, his eyes occasionally darting to Mikey with a mix of resentment and longing. The others, aware of his mood, try to include him in their conversation, with Draken casually commenting on how Y/n looks just like Shinichiro when he was younger, which earns a reluctant smile from the boy whilst he scoots closer to Draken's side.
As lunch progresses, the warmth of the company and the shared laughter begin to chip away at Y/n's bratty facade. Takemichi shares stories about his adventures, exaggerating for effect, which makes even Y/n chuckle despite himself. Mikey, sensing the shift in Y/n's mood, playfully ruffles his hair, a silent truce.
By the end of the meal, Y/n is less the sullen child and more a part of the impromptu family gathering, his earlier grievances forgotten in the moment's joy. It’s a reminder that even in a world of tough decisions and stern lessons, there's always room for laughter and love at the table.