Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

-Late January-

“Be careful with that, Kyojuro.” Obanai warned, anxiously wringing his hands together. It was nearly 6:30 in the morning. Much too early for his brother to be trying to break everything he owns. The amber eyed man chuckled as he placed one of the final boxes in the trunk of Obanai’s black Nissan Altima. The car was old, but reliable. Their father had gotten it for him off of Facebook marketplace when he turned seventeen. Kyojuro had received the same treatment when he turned sixteen. The only difference was that his little red jeep had a lot less miles and scratches on it. Not that Obanai was really complaining about the difference in their vehicles. He never even expected their father to do anything for him, nor wanted him to.

He dusted his hands off as he turned back to Obanai before speaking, “I haven’t broken anything yet. You can trust that I won’t let your things get all jumbled up.” Even though that was true, he couldn’t help but worry about his golden retriever brother breaking everything he owns. Anything that he was allowed to own for the last five years, he found himself fiercely protective over. When he was younger, he didn’t really have the option to have anything to himself so he was grateful that the Rengokus’ gave him the opportunity.
They left his car running as they packed it up with everything he would need for his first semester. Their father had taken his car the night before and filled it with gas in preparation for the thirty minute drive to the new campus in Kyoto. Kyojuro had already moved into his own apartment with some assistance from his highschool friends the previous semester in August. He found some guy in need of a roommate off campus and jumped at the opportunity. His name didn’t really matter, Obanai couldn’t remember it anyways. The January air presented a faint sting against any piece of skin it touched and Obanai felt himself sinking deeper into his long sleeved grey sweater. He hated this time of the year, but he was dying for a little independence.

Shinjuro was becoming a little more overbearing and insistent on him staying home for just another semester, but he should have already moved into college in the fall like his brother. He hated how much more attention the cop gave him than his other brothers. He knew why he did, only a fool wouldn’t. Obanai was a flight risk.
Though he was excited to experience some independence in the dorm, he also found himself dreading it. The possibility of spinning out into old self destructive behaviors would never be zero in his mind. His brother slammed the trunk closed with a hearty sigh before turning to face him. “Is there anything left in the house that you need to grab?” His voice was extra loud today, probably no thanks to him forgetting his hearing aid this morning. The ravenette shook his head no. He didn’t want his brother to go back in his room for another round of this and he was fairly sure that they had already packed everything in the car that needed to go with him to college.
Obanai’s phone pinged in his pocket. He figured it was more than likely his new roommate. Shinazugawa had gotten his phone number through the housing portal for their university. Apparently his old roommate moved out because they had some sort of beef. Just from texting back and forth with him for the last week, he could completely understand why a normal person wouldn’t want to room with him. Obanai actually dreaded it a little, but he deserved the worst that the world had to offer. Having a roommate like him is what you deserve.

He drew his phone from his pocket, tapping the screen to see what he could possibly want now.

Sanemi: Iguro, answer the fucking phone.
Obanai: Can’t answer right now. What is it?
Sanemi: You’re moving in today right??
Obanai: Yes
Sanemi: Text me when you get here and I’ll help you move your shit in.
Obanai: How kind.

Obanai rolled his eyes as he typed a response. He hardly knew his new roommate, but what he did know was that he was a dick. Kyojuro already offered his help the day before to follow behind him and help him move his stuff in. One more set of hands couldn’t hurt to have. Just based off of the picture that the university provided of Sanemi, he looked pretty intimidating. Wild white hair with long scars that stretch across the expanse of his face. He couldn’t say anything about anyone else’s scars. His own were disgusting.

Shinjuro stepped out of the house, slapping his hand against Obanai’s shoulder. The nervous energy was practically pouring off of him in waves, but he said nothing about it. He pulled something small from his jacket pocket, holding it out to him. His epipen. He hadn’t had a reason to use it in years. In fact, he didn’t even know where his father kept it for the last couple of years. After the silence stretched on for too long, he spoke, “I figured you might need it. Remember to stay away from those fucking peanut butter sandwhiches.” I’m not stupid. Obanai thought to himself in a bit of a huff.

After growing up in a heavily sheltered home with a mother who only really brought home take out and cooked more fried food, he knew nothing about any allergies he may have had. It wasn’t until the Rengoku family won custody of him did he ever have his vaccines, clothes that actually fit his body, windows, or an idea of what an allergy even was. Learning what he liked to eat was like pulling teeth. Kyojuro joked about him being picky only for their father to tell him off. Senjuro would try and share food from his own plate with his new brother, only to be turned down at every turn.

He was also given the opportunity to eat simple meals, like sandwiches. The first time that he ever had a sandwich was when Shinjuro was cooped up in his office. Kyojuro was making himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at the counter while Obanai watched him. “Do you want one?” He inquired, hands covered in jelly from the jar spilling over. The ravenette nodded hesitantly, wanting to give it an effort. The peanut butter and the jelly didn’t give off too strong of a smell, so he figured that he could stomach it. Kyojuro immediately got to work, making what could almost be a housewife leveled peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

He slid it across the counter on a paper napkin towards his brother. His heterochromic eyes looked over the sandwich as if he was studying it before picking it up and taking a bite. It was pretty easy on the taste buds. Not too bad. He took a few more bites, savoring the unusual taste. The only issue was, the more he ate, the more his throat seemed to itch. It was odd. He never had that problem before. Nonetheless, he finished the sandwich and took a sip of the water he already had. The itch didn’t go away, in fact, it almost felt like he was struggling to catch his breath. Kyojuro noticed almost instantly once his brother’s breathing seemed labored and screamed for their dad.

He knew the signs of an allergic reaction since Senjuro was also allergic to strawberries. Shinjuro nearly broke his own neck while sprinting down the stairs to get to them. The memory never failed to completely embarrass and humble Obanai when he thought back on it. Kyojuro would never let him live down actually having an allergy, even though he had his own. Not an edible one, but one nonetheless.

“I’ll make sure Kyojuro doesn’t hand feed me any more peanut butter.” He rolled his eyes, moving to walk back to his car. “I’ll be back this weekend to pick up Kubaramaru and his cage, dad. Make sure you feed him when you think about it.” The flame haired man nodded, not even seeming to listen. He interrupted once again, “Please take care of yourself son. Let your brother help you. Call me if you need anything.” Obanai groaned and nodded. “I will. Kyo is going to meet me there and help me move in.” He clapped his shoulder and ushered him towards the car. “You should get going before I change my mind and have you stay here.”

Obanai nodded and waved to his father and brothers before climbing into his car and backing out of the driveway. It would only be a thirty minute drive to Kyoto from his home, so it wouldn’t be too hard. From the sideroad his house was on, he made a turn onto the main road and sped up. Leaving behind the things you’re comfortable with would always be hard. Especially moving onto another chapter in your life that you never planned to make it to.
The drive seemed to kind of take place in the back of his mind as he went on. The road blurred together for the next thirty minutes. There was nothing of interest around him besides the fact that he could barely see out the back window of his car due to all of his stuff being stuffed in the back seat. He hated how his brother organized everything back there, but he would never say it out loud. He just appreciate that he had someone so willing to help him out. The other half of his stuff was stuffed in Kyojuro’s car, so he had to trust him whether he wanted to or not.

After what felt like forever in thirty minutes, he saw the familiar buildings approaching in the distance. Obanai had toured the college when his brother originally was accepted. He wanted to go when he graduated, but Shinjuro put his foot down pretty quickly at the idea. He insisted that Obanai stayed home for at least another year before going off to college. In short, he didn't trust him alone with himself.
Fortunately, his father relented with a little begging on Kyojuro's end and Obanai's clean streak for the last couple of months. He stayed clean from the time his brother went to college in August to January when the semester was over. Shinjuro at least trusted that with Kyojuro watching over his brother, he’d be alright enough to attend the college thirty minutes down the road.

With a glance, he noticed his brother’s little red jeep was already parked in a spot near the dorm building. He was loading a moving cart with some of Obanai’s boxes. He parked his car in the spot right next to his brother and stepped out. “Be careful, Kyo.” Kyojuro waved him off, stacking another box onto the cart before speaking up, “I'm being careful. Go ahead and pick up your keys from the front desk. I'll be waiting here.”
Obanai couldn't necessarily tell his brother that he didn't want to leave him alone with his stuff, but went against his own judgement. He followed the carefully placed signs along to the front desk. As he walked, he shot his new roommate a text.

Obanai: If you're going to help me, I'm parked outside. Look for the red jeep.

Shinazugawa's response was instantaneous. Short and really to the point. He had such a way with words.

Sanemi: 🖕

If Obanai had to guess, he was probably on his way down from their room. According to Shinazagawa, they would be living on the second floor with no elevator to help with the move in process. It was a good thing that both his roommate and brother would be helping him move everything up the stairs.

--------

Meeting Shinazugawa wasn’t very eventful in itself. He only seemed interested in getting everything upstairs before he really engaged in any sort of conversation. Shinazugawa himself was nothing like Obanai had expected. He was an average sized guy with wide eyes, scarred skin and loose fitting clothes that dipped low enough to see his collarbones. He wore a simple oversized hoodie that draped over his form and some ripped up jeans. Obanai knew just from meeting him that maybe his scars wouldn’t be such a big issue, though he still wouldn’t show them to the other guy. Kyojuro liked him. He liked everyone.

As his brother attempted to make light conversation with him, he was turned down at every try. Sanemi was just an unfriendly guy, especially with people that he didn’t know. Obanai knew that he probably wouldn’t have many conversations with the scarred man, but didn’t seem to care. Neither of them did.

Finally, Kyojuro sat the final box down on the unmade bed with a huff. “All moved in, little brother.” The black haired man rolled his eyes before responding, “I’m older than you.”

“And shorter. Anyways, if you need anything I’ll be at the apartment complex across the road.” The flamed eyed man turned on his heel with a wide smile, waving behind him. He wanted to give Obanai the chance to settle in, get to know his new roommate, and unpack all of his stuff. As the door closed behind him, it left Sanemi and Obanai in an uncomfortable silence. For most of the night, neither of them said a word to each other as Obanai unpacked boxes, arranging everything around his side to his liking. The room was split up by a large shelf and desk. It wasn’t the most private way to go about sharing a room, but Obanai was excited for the chance to partake in college life, no matter how uncomfortable.

Sanemi stepped over to the other side of the room, watching the shorter man unpack the last of his times, arranging them into drawers. “So, what are you going to major in?” Truthfully, Obanai had a few ideas of what he wanted to do from the prior tour of the campus and Major fair the school hosted in the summer before. “I’m thinking about something within the veterinary sciences. I don’t think I’m going to work with barn animals though.”

“Oh, exotic animals? Sanemi inquired.

“Reptiles and birds is what I was told.” He answered quietly before lysoling his new mattress down. All he had left to do was to put sheets and pillows on the bed. Sanemi trekked further onto his side as if searching for something. “Where is your snake?” They had exchanged messages about Kubaramaru coming to campus with him as an emotional support animal. He wasn’t really sure how Sanemi actually felt about it, but he never outright opposed the idea of sharing the room with a snake. “I’m going home next weekend to get him and his cage. The desk is plenty long enough to accommodate his temporary enclosure.”

The desk itself was connected to the wall and stretched out towards the middle of the room. There was also a shelf attached to it for books and pictures while also functioning as a privacy barrier. “Shinazugawa-”

“Sanemi. Skip the formality shit. I already don’t like it in the text messages.” Obanai nodded, he understood the feeling. “Sanemi. Could you show me around tomorrow?” He didn’t like asking favors, but he didn’t want to get completely lost like an idiot on the first day of classes. Sanemi hummed, running his fingers through unruly white hair before nodding. “Sure. But we’ll do it in the morning. I’m beat. I’m sure you are too.” It did take them hours to get everything moved in, in addition to the actual unpacking and arranging of his side of the room. Now that he mentioned it, what time was it? Obanai glanced at the screen of his phone, noting the time. 9:40 PM.

Time really did fly. Obanai nodded and tossed his final pillow on the twin bed. Everything on his side of the room was put away and made up to his liking. Maybe after the campus tour tomorrow, he could mop the floor and dust on his side a bit. Sanemi wandered back to his side of the room, clicking his light off. Obanai changed out of his clothes and changed his mask that he’d been wearing all day for a new one before climbing into his new bed. As he clicked his own light off and laid down, he decided that college could be a nice change of pace.

Chapter Text

Sleeping in the dorm was certainly a different experience than Obanai was used to. He was used to having his own bedroom in the corner of the Rengoku house. The room was always silent with the buzz of Kuburamaru’s heat lamp for him to fall asleep to. Falling asleep in a room with a constant running fan and Sanemi’s loud snoring was a lot harder than anticipated. Nonetheless, Obanai managed to catch a little bit of sleep, though it wasn’t much. At around seven in the morning, both of their alarms went off, the sound jolting them both awake. Sanemi’s alarm sounded like the equivalent of shrill, screaming alarm bells, while his own was more of the preset soft tone. Sanemi climbed out of bed with a huff, strutting towards the bathroom door in only his boxers. Obanai was a prude by no means, but looking up from his pillow to see his brand new roommate half naked was not on his list of things he wanted to see.

The white haired man yawned as he knocked on the soft spot in the door before stepping in. Obanai wasted no time before climbing out of his own bed, fishing for a shirt and pants from his closet. He settled for an old band t-shirt, an oversized black sweater and some plain black jeans. As he tugged on his clothes, he was racing against however long he figured his roommate would take in the bathroom. He would crumble in on himself if a man he barely knew saw him even half undressed. Obanai finally pulled on his sweater over the top of his t-shirt with a sigh as he heard the toilet flush through the wall. He plopped down onto his bed and looked over his side of the room to keep himself busy. The desk looked pretty bare besides a picture of him and his brothers from high school graduation. The picture at a glance was him sandwiched between Kyojuro and Senjuro. Him and Kyo were dressed in white graduation gowns and caps with Senjuro hovering awkwardly in black jeans and a nice red shirt. Obanai was squished between the Rengoku brothers, holding up his diploma for the camera to see.

Kyojuro was on the other side of him, holding his own diploma high in the air. He was more excited for the after party that their father was planning to throw for them later that day. How could he forget it? It was like a small get together with food, family, and his friends. Obanai himself hadn’t invited anyone to the graduation party, being content with just seeing the extended Rengoku family. He didn’t really get along with anyone in high school anyways; not like his brother did at least. Before Obanai could really sit there and think about just how pathetic his high school experience was, his ever gracious roommate stepped out of the bathroom. He was holding a pair of gray sweatpants and a large green hoodie in his arms. He had brought his clothes into the bathroom and didn’t even bother to change into them there.

After a shared silence, Sanemi stepped over to the door side of the dorm, fully dressed. “Are you about ready to go?” he stated, looking Obanai over. His stare was intimidating, purple eyes assessing the ravenette in complete silence. In his right hand, he clasped a coffee cup that could have easily been stolen from a shop and in his other hand was his phone. “I have a coffee maker if you want anything.”

Obanai couldn’t drink coffee. The smell had been much too rich and made him sick anytime he ever dared to drink it in his teenage years. Shinjuro offered him coffee on a few different occasions and it made him throw up, so they switched him over to green tea. Obanai shook his head quickly, raising a hand in a silent thanks but no thanks way. Sanemi shrugged and took a long swig from his cup before adding, “Whatever man. If you ever change your mind, I’ll brew extra.” He trudged over to the door, waving for his new roommate to follow behind. He was a man of his word and wanted to make sure that Obanai learned where everything was on the campus. He had even grabbed his car keys for the end of the tour to run him by the animal science building located shortly off campus with the barn attached. Out of obligation and a little bit of anxious energy, Obanai grabbed a hold of his campus map that he’d gotten from the front desk and shoved it in his pocket before following shortly behind the white haired man.

—

“This is the humanities building. You’ll probably only really be here for general education shit. You said you’re going to be in the animal sciences, right?” Sanemi spoke as he speed walked through the space between the class buildings. The humanities building was tall, brick, and stretched over the tops of the quad’s trees. All of the buildings were laid out in a huge circle and would easily take fifteen minutes to walk from one side to the other. The trees in the space were all bare, giving way to the cold season still going strong. It was supposed to snow later this week, not that Obanai cared. He had always hated the cold. The commune that he lived in never had heat, so he savored every bit of it that he could get when he was taken in by his current family. Obanai nodded, hand moving to adjust his black mask over his lower face subtly.

Sanemi didn’t pick up on a thing, nor did he ask. Obanai figured that he was a smart guy and did notice things, but just chose not to comment for the sake of being polite. He probably wouldn’t like it if someone looked at him and questioned any of his scars either. He spotted a building with an odd shape up the walkway and pointed, speaking up, “What is that one?” The white haired man groaned and rolled his eyes before glancing in the direction that Obanai was pointing. “Oh, thats the fine arts building. You more than likely won’t have to do anything there besides the oddball art class. I’m a criminal justice major and I’m required to take at least one before I graduate, so I’m sure you’ll have to at some point.” His interest was piqued and there was a small table set up in front of the building. “Can we at least get closer and look at it? I want to know where everything is.” Sanemi nodded, “Go look all you want, but I’m going to sit on this bench while you do. Tengen’s always hanging around there and I really don’t feel like seeing him today.”

As long as he had the chance to look at everything without being in a complete rush, Obanai was up for it. The entire tour felt like he was having to power walk just to keep up with Shinazugawa and quite frankly, he wanted to take his time looking around. As he approached the building, the table in front of it became a little clearer. The cloth laid over it appeared paint splattered with every color of the rainbow with clear script writing across the front.

‘TAK- Thriving Artists- Kyoto’

He carefully looked over the bright, tacky table cover before his eyes drifted up to what rested on it. Pretty cookies separated into little bags, carefully packaged. They definitely were homemade, no other explanation would have made sense to him. “Would you like to hear about TAK?” A bright voice pulled him out of his thoughts, urging his gaze up to its owner. His breath was temporarily knocked out of his lungs as his gaze met the prettiest green he’d ever seen. It could only be compared to shamrocks and their brilliance. A pretty round shaped face accompanied the sight and housed a pretty smile. What really caught his attention was the eccentric blush pink and lime green hair that was pulled back into a braided crown that led into twin space buns.

Obanai’s words completely failed him in the face of her. He had never been fond of women and actually had a bit of anxiety around them, but the one in front of him felt different. He didn’t feel like running away for the same reasons he usually did. Instead, he wanted to hear everything about this stupid TAK bullshit. Anything that she said had to be of some sort of importance, no matter how unimportant. “TAK?’ He inquired quietly, and to his own shock she seemed excited. She started in immediately, rambling on about the organization, how she joined only last semester and they wanted her as a spokes girl, has four cats that she already can’t wait to go home and see, and is dual majoring in psychology and traditional arts. Obanai found himself thoughtfully listening as she rambled on about it all, glancing over her outfit. Even the way she dressed was nothing like he’d ever seen before. She was wearing an ankle-length purple and yellow flowery skirt with a muted purple blouse and a brown jacket pulled over the top.

“I’m so sorry, I’m rambling. You must be so bored!” She shook her head as she spoke, picking up one of the cookie bags from the tacky table. He wanted to assure the bright girl that she had far from bored him, but that had to sound creepy from a complete stranger. She shoved the baggie towards him, urging him to take them along with him. “Thank you for listening to me. If you want to join TAK, we have meetings starting next week on Thursday. I really hope that you come.” Anxiously, he nodded before looking down at the sign up sheet on the table. He knew next to nothing about art, but having the chance to meet her again sounded appealing enough for him to attend at least one meeting. He picked up the pen from the table and scribbled down his name and his student email for the club to reach out to him. “Thank you…” As he started, his eyes drifted down to the little name tag on the front of her jacket. ‘Kanroji.’

Kanroji seems to be a popular last name, it sounds like. Either way, he was pleased just knowing her last name. Obanai continued, “Kanroji. Thank you.” He waved and quickly turned around, snatching the small baggie off the table. It would be rude of him not to take the cookies she so graciously offered out to him. The sound of her laughter sounded like bells in the cold winter air as she replied with a wave, “Don’t hesitate to reach out again! Hopefully I’ll see you at the first meeting!” Despite his better judgement, he was definitely considering going to the TAK-y thing or whatever it was called.

He hurried towards his roommate who was settled on a bench near the geoscience building, clutching the baggie tightly in his hand. Sanemi turned towards him, putting his phone down in his lap before speaking up, “What took you so long?” He leaned over to look in the direction Obanai was coming from and stopped himself. “Jesus H. Christ. Don’t tell me you got stopped by that thriving artist whatever.” Despite the white haired man’s playful teasing, he was met with an anxious look. “What’s wrong with you? You’re paler than usual.”

Obanai moved forward wordlessly, clutching the small baggie of cookies to his chest. He mumbled quickly, “Let’s just go ahead.” Before Shinazugawa even had the chance to get up from the bench, the other man was already a distance ahead of him. Something must have really spooked him to get him moving past a new building like that. With nothing more said, Sanemi chased after him with a brisk jog to catch up, then showed him the rest of the buildings on campus, minus the one with Obanai’s actual classes across the road. That could wait another day, or he’d just figure it out with his new map.

—-----

At the end of the day when Sanemi got sick of showing Obanai around campus, he took him to the dining hall, then back to the dorms. Obanai had taken his food to go, just settling for a simple cucumber salad and some slightly fresh fruit. There was no guessing how long it had actually been sitting out, nor did he really want to ponder it. He sat on his bed, glancing over the small baggie in his hands. He was never one for sweets, but he felt like it would be rude of him not to give them a taste for that girl’s efforts. She was easily one of the sweetest girls that he’d ever had the pleasure of talking to, not that he really got around to compare more than a handful. Just being around women stirred his guts, leaving the back of his neck dripping in sweat and his heart beating slightly faster. It took him forever to get over the panic attacks. Meeting the pink haired girl today felt pretty close to one, but less violent.

The nicest way he could think to put it was pleasantly overwhelming. Like he wanted to do it again. Stop thinking like that, it’s creepy.

He sucked a breath between his teeth, unclasping the twist-tie from the pink baggie and tossing it aside. The cookies inside appeared to be a mix of chocolate and oatmeal, he’d heard of these before. If he wasn’t mistaken, they were an easy no-bake chocolate oatmeal recipe that his brothers used to make when their father was fast asleep at night. Senjuro would sneak out of bed to help Kyojuro around the kitchen in the dark due to his inability to cook. Neither he nor Sen ever left Kyo in the kitchen alone, it was just an unspoken rule. He was likely to still burn down the house with a no bake recipe. Obanai took a big bite from the cookie and found that the taste wasn’t as overwhelmingly sweet as he’d thought it would be. In fact, he finished the first one, then the second one from the baggie before tossing it in the garbage can beside the bed. Something about it had a weird taste though that he just couldn’t put his finger on. Quickly, he disregarded it and moved on to his dinner.

With each bite of his salad, it got harder to swallow. Weird. Another bite and Obanai had to spit it out. Has his face always been this hot? He didn’t have his mask on, so it shouldn’t be this warm in here. Then, the most damning realization of all hit him like a bus. He could hardly catch his breath.

He slammed his fist against the wall lamp, hoping to catch his roommate’s attention. He was unlucky enough to be struggling to catch his breath, speaking would be just as hard. His scars would just have to be damned for now. He would have probably seen them eventually anyways. Obanai stood, wobbly at first and fishing through his desk drawers for his epipen that he thought his father foolish for insisting he take. Sanemi sprinted to the other side and cussed, “Holy shit! Your mouth!” In the heat of the moment, Obanai thought he was making some shitty jab at his scars, but he didn’t have the time or ability to fight back. He yanked the pen out of the desk, holding it out frantically for Sanemi to help him inject in his own panic. Sanemi hastily took it, popped off the cap and stabbed it into Obanai’s upper thigh through his pants. He cringed at the pain from the injection before it was withdrawn and tossed aside. Sanemi directed Obanai to focus on his breathing and grab his shoes before running and grabbing his phone, calling 911.

As they headed out to the ambulance, he caught a look at his face in a reflection in the hallway. His mouth was completely swollen. No wonder Sanemi screamed.

The next few hours faded into a complete blur.

Chapter Text

The afternoon extended into the night as the doctors worked tirelessly to stabilize Obanai. Once the ambulance had arrived, he had walked well enough and had been able to catch his breath to stumble down the stairs with Shinazugawa’s help. They were lucky enough that the hospital was located right up the street. Really smart thinking on the university’s part to build really close to the emergency room.

After a while of being surrounded by countless nurses and the occasional visit from a doctor on shift, Obanai had finally been able to breathe properly and the swelling went down on his face. Sanemi sat up tirelessly in the worn out chair next to the hospital bed. He couldn’t help but be in a state of shock. After all, he wasn’t even sure what triggered his allergic reaction. Sanemi spoke up while they were both waiting for the doctor to loop back around to check in. “What the fuck was that, man? Did you eat something you weren’t supposed to?” Obanai sat there lazily wracking his brain for what could have been the cause. Nothing he ate was out of the ordinary. Cucumber salad, an orange… and those cookies. “Those cookies.”

Sanemi raised an eyebrow before speaking again, “Cookies? You mean the ones that the big girl was handing out outside of the art building?” Obanai felt a little annoyance building in his gut at how his roommate referred to Kanroji. He hardly knew her, but he felt some type of way about him commenting on her size like that. He personally never thought weight was a problem out of the occasional partner that he’s been with. He never formally dated, but he did have fleeting dates with women just to try it out. At the end of the day, who was he to talk about someone else’s weight anyways? He was easily underweight and had been struggling to gain it the entire time he had been living with the Rengokus. “Don’t talk about her like that. And yes. I think it’s just the cookies that she was handing out. I knew they tasted a little odd, but I wasn’t sure what was off about them.”

Sanemi groaned, running his hands down his face, “How the hell could you not tell that something you’re allergic to was in those cookies?” Obanai immediately shot back, sitting up in the white bed. “I haven’t had peanut butter since I was fourteen. I forgot what it tasted like.” His roommate perked up at that. “You’re allergic to peanuts? That’s so stupid.” The ravenette shot him a glare. “What do you mean that’s stupid? I didn’t get the choice of what I’m allergic to.” Sanemi looked anywhere but at him, settling to glance out the window at the university down the street. “Peanuts is just a stupid allergy to have.” The answer just pissed Obanai off even more. He already wasn’t happy with how he referred to the girl from the art building, but now he was also insulting an allergy that he never even wanted to have. “Okay wise ass, what are you allergic to?” He sat up straight in the uncomfortable leather chair before turning his attention back to Obanai. “I’m not allergic to anything, but I can’t really eat grapefruit or stand in super direct sunlight because of the medicine I’m taking.” What an odd confession. Also unfair.

“You’re telling me that you’re allergic to nothing? I’ve never met anyone that didn’t have something even a little wrong with them. Kyojuro is allergic to bees and my little brother Senjuro is allergic to strawberries. Even my dad has a weird allergy to certain lotions.” Sanemi snorted at Obanai’s defence and rolled his eyes bedford replying, “It sounds like your family is just a little fucked up. I ended up being one of the only few without some kind of allergy. A few of my siblings had food allergies and Genya can’t take penicillin.” Obanai decided to strike back, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, pointing his finger at him. “Imagine being unable to take medicine. That’s worse than having a peanut allergy.” Shinazugawa crossed his arms over his chest and stood up from his chair. “Don’t make fun of my brother.” Finally, both men fell silent, deeming the argument not worth it.

The doctor peeked his head into the room, looking between the two of them. “Mr. Iguro. A word.” Sanemi turned and nodded to Obanai and stepped out past the doctor and into the hallway.

“Mr. Iguro. We looked into your medical history, so I have to ask out of pure concern.” The doctor paused, smoothing his short black hair back. It’s never good when a doctor looks nervous. He remembered the last time a doctor looked at him like that, he had to be put on a feeding tube for months. He continued, “Did you ingest an allergen on purpose?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, blinking a few times. Obanai felt bile climbing up his throat as the doctor began to ramble. “I don’t want to assume, but we found your last… attempt on file, so by law we have to ask.” He shook his head adamantly, denying the allegation outright. “I have been clean ever since last summer. Eating those cookies was purely an accident. I thought they were just chocolate and oatmeal.” The doctor nodded, still seeming unsure.

“Well, you should be able to head home in just a little bit. A nurse will bring the discharge paperwork if you’re feeling well enough.” Obanai nodded quickly, sick of being here. Especially after being accused of eating peanuts on purpose. Bull shit. In the heat of the moment, he slammed his hand onto his phone which was laid on the side table, scratching it up to text his brother. He wasn’t one for keeping Kyojuro in the loop mental health or actual health wise, but he was overwhelmed and needed to vent to someone.

Obanai: Kyo. I had an allergic reaction and I’m in the hospital. The doctor just accused me of trying to kill myself. Can you stop by later?

In literal seconds, the flame haired man replied.

Kyojuro: Oh no! 😣 You and Shinazugawa can stop by my apartment after and play some cards with me and Uzui to blow off some steam.
Obanai: I do not want to see your roommate
Kyojuro: Uzui shouldn’t pester you if you feel poor. I want to see you anyways. You’re more than welcome to come and visit us! 😀

Obanai considered his options, clutching the fabric of the blue hospital gown between his fingers. He used the rough feel of the paper thin fabric to ground himself. He couldn’t have a panic attack in front of the nurses and the jerk doctor. Sanemi stepped back into the room, a couple of papers in his hands, “They sent these in with me. I went ahead and filled out a few things on them.” He passed Obanai the papers and a pen, watching him scribble down everything in a hurry. “What’s your rush?” Obanai huffed, “I just want to get out of here as soon as possible. Would you mind driving us to my brother’s apartment after this? He invited us for cards.” Sanemi dug his scarred hands into his pants pockets, face scrunching in irritation. “Doesn’t Tengen live with him?” “I only know him by Uzui, so maybe.” His friend couldn’t help but groan and shake his head no. “I do not want to deal with him right now.”

Obanai set down the pen on the side table along with the papers, pointing to the clothes folded up in the corner. “I think I just need to get dressed. They should come in a minute to pick up my paperwork.” The white haired man shook his head in disagreement, stepping closer to the bed. “You’re still hooked up to the drips and the medicine. They’ll come in a minute to take it all out. We can stop by their apartment later.” At that moment, he was lucky to have Sanemi as a friend.

-------

Standing outside of Kyojuro’s apartment gave Obanai anxiety every time that he came to visit. There were others missing doors from their hinges, moss growing up cracked gray walls and unreliable, old wood stairs. Sanemi took the initiative, climbing the creaky stairs first. Obanai followed behind him, being careful to step over the rotten steps, anxiety settling when his feet met the steady metal at the top. Kyojuro lived at the end of the upstairs hallway in a small two bedroom apartment with his roommate that he’d met on Craigslist who just happened to be an actual college student and not an axe murderer. Shinjuro pleaded with his son not to move in with an online stranger, but he insisted that his gut said it would be the right thing for him. Turned out, he was right. Obanai had met Kyo’s roommate once and immediately decided that he was not a fan of the flashy man.

Obviously, things could be worse but he was just everything that Obanai disliked in a person. Flashy, loud, eccentric. Now that he really stood in front of the cracked sliding door attempting to bite down his anxiety enough to knock, he realized that maybe Uzui was sort of similar to his brother. Sanemi clapped his hand across Obanai’s shoulder, urging him to open it. His head whipped around and his teal eye locked on Sanemi’s lavender, wordlessly telling him not to touch him again. He centered his attention back on the door, bringing his hand up to knock. Before his hand even made contact with the door, it slid open revealing Kyojuro. “Little brother!” He shouted, crushing him in a tight hug. Obanai tried to wiggle out of the flame haired man’s grip, to no avail. He gave up and just let himself go limp in his hold, stumbling back when he finally let go.

“Come on in! We already have cards set up on the living room table!” His voice was just a smidge too loud. Obanai motioned to his ears and Kyo’s already wide eyes seemed to bug out as he noticed. “My apologies. My hearing aids are charging.” The three men moved from the doorway and into the apartment. The walls were covered with eccentric paintings of fire rivaling his family’s hair, pictures of Tengen and his mother, and ones of Kyojuro and his family. The mats on the floor were well maintained minus the spots that looked worn in from previous water damage that the landlord's half ass fixed. Obanai honestly hated how his brother lived in this, but he refused to say anything. He knew just how happy it made his brother to have a space of his own that he could call home, even if he had to share a shitty spot in a poorly maintained apartment with another guy.

Obanai and Sanemi kicked off their shoes at the front door, moving to the slightly run down couch to sit. Kyojuro sat in the loveseat on the other side of the table, calling into the kitchen for Tengen to join them. “I’ll be right there! I’m bringing popcorn!” Now that he mentioned it, the entire apartment smelled like a big buttery snack. Obanai had smelled it the second the door originally opened but chose not to say anything about it. Rich smells like that just made his stomach churn. After some small talk, Tengen walked in, wearing some gray jogging pants and a simple tank top. For the heater to not work in here, he sure had balls not wearing sleeves. “Who’s ready to party?” He plopped the bowl onto the table, sitting on the arm of the red love seat.

The game was uneventful. Everyone just kept screaming at one another for the next hour over who turned a plus four on the other and why Tengen kept skipping Sanemi’s turns. At the end of the night, Obanai couldn’t help but admit to himself that spending time with his brother and both of their roommates did make him feel better. What was really unusual though was how his mind kept wandering back to that pretty pink and green haired girl earlier that he’d only met that morning. He pulled out his phone to check for an email notification.

To) Iguro Obanai,and 41 other-

TAK- Hello all, we are having our first meeting next Thursday for all those interested. For our new members, lets give them a warm University Kyoto welcome!
Stay TAK-y

Without a second thought, he put a reminder on his phone for the club meeting. Attempted cookie murder be damned.

Chapter Text

-Early February-

Obanai had made it through his first week of classes without a hitch. Most of the first week was centered around syllabi and introduction work. He had no particular interest in getting to know his fellow classmates and coasted through, sitting closer to the front of the room. His teal eye was essentially dead and semi affected his golden one. The best way he’d ever explained it was it felt like closing one eye and trying to read. Shinjuro had taken him to the eye doctor within the first week that he lived with them and they confirmed that his right eye was essentially useless. The only thing he could see out of it was shadows and light, so all it helped with was his peripheral, but not much else. 

The eye doctor had given him a set of reading glasses, but he refused to use them. He never saw the point in them and they made him stick out even further like a sore thumb. He glanced at his phone for the time anxiously in the middle of class. 3 p.m.

Thursday was dragging ass and he was just ready to finish his final class of the day out and go to the art building. TAK was supposed to have their club meeting at five today and he found himself counting down the hours until he could get out of Biology and see that girl again. He didn’t know why she was in the back of his mind for the last week, but he couldn’t help himself. She was one of the most interesting girls that he’d ever met. He didn’t shrink away from her presence and found himself wanting to listen to her talk for longer than he had. The best way that he could think to reason with himself why, was that she embodied the sun. How creepy.

“Mr. Iguro.” The voice of the professor snapped him out of his daze, urging his attention forward. “Yes sir?” The man that stood in front of him was dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans. His arms were folded over his chest, staring down at Obanai at his desk and he spoke quietly, “Is there any reason that you’re still here?” He sat up straight in his seat, glancing over the alarmingly empty room. Not a single person was left. “I apologize. I’m just a little distracted.” Obanai stood from his desk, yanking his backpack up and over his shoulder. 

Professor Sato did not move from his spot in front of the desk. He only spoke up again, “If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to reach out. I know adjusting to college can be hard.’ He walked back to his own desk and began gathering his things. Obanai nodded and walked out the door without a word, glancing back down at his phone for the time. It was actually four. How did an entire hour slip by so quickly without him noticing? He didn’t have time to wonder, writing it off as just a side effect of the allergy medicine he was having to take every other day since the incident. Surely it wasn’t the fact that he hadn’t eaten a full meal since then.

 He counted the steps down as he walked down the stairs and into the hallway of the animal science building. The cases of taxidermied animals lined a couple of the walls on his way out, catching his attention. Obanai really liked seeing the pinned up bugs and the smell of formaldehyde and isopropyl alcohol lingering in the hallways. The smell reminded him of why he wanted to come to college in some weird way. It was like the old science classroom that he’d gotten so used to at his old high school. 

He and Kyojuro were in the same high school biology class. Even though Obanai was severely behind in his schooling, catching him up with science was the easiest thing they could have done. Everything else seemed to lag: reading, algebra, history, even physical education. He struggled to catch up with nearly everything, but he had a support system in Shinjuro and Kyojuro, along with some intensive home schooling. The first time Obanai had stepped into a school was when he was sixteen. They enrolled him in the same classes as his brother, hoping that he would latch onto learning as a positive. The first day proved to be a bad idea though, because the second Obanai saw a girl that resembled his mother a little too closely, he had a panic attack and had to be sent home for the day. Still, it was progress. Rough, but still a step in the right direction. 

Obanai had come a long way since then. Women still made him feel like he was drowning, but his head finally lingered above the surface. He never figured that it would get much better than that, but he didn’t really seem to mind. The girl that gave him the cookies was probably one of the first he’d met that didn’t give him immediate anxiety. The way Sanemi addressed her a couple of days before still irked him. “The ones that big girl was handing out.” It just pissed him off the more he thought about it. Kanroji seemed like a genuinely nice girl and her size didn’t make any difference. It shouldn’t at least. 

After a short walk through the quad, he found himself standing outside of the familiar brick building, this time just missing the little table out front. He walked into the brick building and immediately felt the heat on full blast to contrast the cold weather outside. The halls were a sterile white color with a rainbow of colors splattered across them. There were signs for different organizations along the walls and pictures of student art work. Obanai glanced at the map on the front wall, spotting the room number for TAK and began walking in that direction. The building would certainly be a maze without the map there. The halls twisted and turned, room numbers barely lining up numerical order and the stairs for the second floor were near impossible to find. He stumbled upon an elevator and let out a small sigh of relief, pressing the button and stepping onto it, letting it carry him to the second floor. 

With a ding, the elevator let him off. Right in front of him was the door to the classroom TAK announced their meeting would be in. He peeked his head into the room, still almost an hour earlier than everyone else. The second he stepped inside, his heart sank into his stomach. Familiar pink and green hair buzzed by and to the board, scribbling down something. Obanai awkwardly cleared his throat, catching her attention. The second she set her sights on him, her eyes practically lit up. “I didn’t think you’d come. How are you, Iguro?” He was completely clamming up in front of her, struggling to get the words out. “I’m doing fine.” Obanai glanced aside to save his pride, if even just a little. She had been writing a welcome message for the spring freshman and a welcome back for the regular club members. 

Now that he had the chance to look her over, he couldn’t help but admire her eccentric style. She wore a light green button up sweater, a short pink skirt and pale yellow leggings under it to provide some warmth from the cold outside. Even her shoes had some personality, dawning little  yellow hearts up the side of the soft pink boots. Her pink and green hair was pulled up into two buns, reminiscent of the day they’d met, minus the dual-colored braid crown. He never thought he would be one to like a girl with such a bright look, or any girl at all. Where he'd grown up, women from his family would line up outside of his room and bring him food. Something about their long inky hair and slanted eyes made him anxious. Maybe it was the unpredictability of it all. The only thing he was ever let in on was that he would be the sacrifice for the goddess. The goddess’ teachings were the only thing he was allowed to read, but with his stunted exposure to any literature, he could hardly even read that. 

Fortunately for Obanai, once the Rengoku family won custody of him, they wasted no time in homeschooling him and playing catch up. They had never treated him like a burden and instead welcomed him with open arms. Almost getting hit by Shinjuro’s cop car in the forested back roads had to be one of the best things that could have happened in his life. It brought him to them, after all. “Iguro, would you like to help me set everything up?” Kanroji’s voice brought him out of his thoughts abruptly, leaving him to dumbly nod in response. She stepped back and grabbed two large stacks of paper, setting them on the desk between them. 

“Could you help me staple some of these packets together before everyone gets here? I know it’s a big ask.” It was definitely a big ask judging on the side of the stacks, but he didn’t mind. He simply took one of each page and stapled them together, setting it aside and repeating the process. She squealed with a smile and began following suit, filling the comfortable silence with chatter about her cats. He learned that she had four cats back at home last time they had spoken, but this time he was getting names: Tuna, Fluffers, Butternut, and Beans. According to her, she had no favorites, but Obanai had the sneaking suspicion that just by how she spoke about each cat, Beans was definitely her favorite. She even stopped putting together packets and showed him pictures of them. With anyone else Obanai would have been uninterested and bored out of his mind, but just listening to the girl talk about mundane things like her cats and the club she had been bumped up to help with was nothing short of fun. 

“What about you?” She inquired. To what, Obanai wasn’t entirely sure. “What about me?” His eyebrow raised in question and he set aside his stapler having finished his half of the packets. Her smile only seemed to widen at the question before asking, “Do you have any pets?” The question struck a small cord for him. Did he really want to freak out this bubbly pink girl with pictures of Kuburamaru? He didn’t think his heart could take it if she didn’t like his friend. “I have a white corn snake at my dorm. I just went home this weekend and brought him up.” She was only half done with her large stacks of packets, but stopped to look at him eagerly. “Really? Do you have any pictures?” The ravenette nodded, sheepishly pulling his phone from his pocket to show her his screen saver. It was a picture he took the first day he found Kubaramaru at the shelter, staring through the glass with wide eyes. Admittedly, the picture of his companion looked really silly. 

The bubblegum colored girl only smiled and ‘awed’ at the picture. “What a cutie. I’d love to stop by and see him sometime.” Come back to his dorm with Sanemi? Hell no. Obanai only took in a breath, working on her side of the papers next before mumbling, “Maybe.”

While they were talking, people began pouring into the room. Kanroji thanked him quickly and took the packets that they put together, handing them out to the oncoming members. He slipped into a desk near the corner of the room and sat through the chaos of the club meeting. The only constant was the bubble gum girl. He couldn’t help but compare her to bright pink bubble gum. She was bubbliness and pink incarnated. Just from the short conversations he had with her, he didn’t figure she had a mean bone in her entire body. 

After a long thirty minutes, club members began getting up and dispersing. Kanroji did say that it was just a welcome back and information meeting anyways. Obanai stood up, heading for the door himself. He didn’t want to bother her more than he probably already had. “Wait up!” A small hand grabbed his arm and jolted him backwards with shocking strength. If he didn’t overcorrect to catch himself, he most certainly would have fallen. His head whipped back to look at who grabbed his arm, adrenaline beginning to pump through his veins. Obanai hated being suddenly touched. Familiar pink hair was presented in front of him. Her face screamed ‘nervous’ and there was no hiding it. “I wanted to catch your number… for future club stuff. I really liked having you here!” She held out her phone for him to punch in his number, the screen already set and ready. Cute. 

Obanai pulled his arm out of her grasp and took her phone, anxiously punching in his number, then his first and last name before handing it back. He then pulled out his own phone, holding it out to get her information as well. This was a good excuse to get her first name. She gently took his phone and punched in her number and name, handing it back. He quickly glanced over the name and his dual colored eyes widened. 

Mitsuri Kanroji. 

Mitsuri.

As in, his brother’s friend from high school?

Chapter Text

-Late February- 

Mitsuri Kanroji. That just really crawled under Obanai’s skin. He hadn’t seen nor heard from her in two weeks after he left the club in a rush. He couldn’t believe that she was the same person his brother always talked about in high school. It wasn’t that he had a problem with her being friends with his brother, but it was a matter of he had never met her before. Kyojuro didn’t bring women around while they were in high school due to a rule their father had put in place. Do not bring girls around. Obanai wasn’t stupid. He knew that their father put that rule in place because of his trauma with women and his struggle to adapt to being around them. Neither Kyo or Senjuro found any issue in it and would just hang out with their female friends outside of the house. 

The only thing about them hanging out with their friends outside the house was that they often left Obanai alone with their father at the height of his alcoholism. When Obanai originally joined the family, Shinjuro’s wife Ruka had passed away only months before. He coped by drowning his sorrows in cheap sake and whiskey which led to him being more combative. It wasn’t until Obanai’s suicide attempt at sixteen that Shinjuro had sworn he would never drink again. Something about it scared him so bad that it just clicked how bad his boys all needed him. Even socially he refuses to drink now. 

Obanai had heard all sorts of things about Mitsuri from Kyojuro, but he never thought there was a chance that a woman that sweet existed. His bright eyed brother had never said a cross word about her. She bought him presents for his birthday, they had lunch together every other day, she helped him find a job with her family at their bakery. All Obanai had to go off of was words, but he had never actually seen her before. He felt incredibly nervous at the idea of even asking his brother about her or texting her at all. It’s been two weeks, surely she doesn’t want to talk to you. She hasn’t texted you anyways . Obanai reasoned with himself, staring into the enclosure settled on his desk. Kuburamaru stared back at him through the glass wall, tongue flicking out to taste the air. He almost looked to be wondering what was wrong with his owner, staring blankly ahead at him. “Should I text Kyojuro and ask?” Bonk ! Kuburamaru lightly bonked his head against the glass. The code he and his little friend started years ago was simple. If he bumped his head against the tank, it meant yes, if he laid his head down, no. Hesitantly, he picked up his phone from the bed and clicked through the contacts, landing on his brother. 

Obanai: Kyo. Do you remember Mitsuri Kanroji from high school?

Sent . He figured it would probably take his brother a while to see the message. Based on his schedule he’d shared with Obanai at the beginning of the semester, he was about to get out of class. He stood from his bed and walked over to his closet, looking for something to wear outside. He had been lounging on his side of the room all morning due to his classes getting canceled. Classes being canceled was never a thing that he knew could happen based on high school experience, so this was a nice change of pace. Ping! Well that was a lot faster than I thought. 

Kyojuro: Yes! She’s still one of my best friends. Why the sudden interest?

Obanai: I think I met her at the beginning of the semester. Do you have any pictures?

Kyojuro: Of course! I’ll send a few, but keep in mind they might be dated. We haven’t seen each other since graduation. 

And send pictures he did. The girl standing in pictures beside his brother looked nothing like the Mitsuri he’d met the other day. Well, it was clearly her but with a serious style change. Instead of pink and green, her hair was dyed black with what looked like green and pink chunky streaks. Her bangs were swept to the side over her face and her makeup was done loud and colorful. Even her clothes in the pictures were different. She wore more black with loud accessories like candi bracelets meant for ravers and chokers. Her tank top was black and lacy with dainty, colorful hearts all over it and a hot pink short skirt. The even more shocking part was his brother in some of these pictures. In one, Kyojuro was dressed in a see-through red crop top with baggy black jeans that barely held onto his hips. In his already flamelike hair were additional streaks of color ranging from blues to greens. He didn’t even pay attention to the background until he noticed the outfits. No doubt in his mind, they were at some kind of underground party. 

He would question Kyojuro on that later. He was always at work or in afterschool programs, not partying. At least, that’s what everyone in the house thought. The biggest thing lingering over his mind now was getting to know Mitsuri. Ping! Another message from Kyo. 

Kyojuro: Do you recognize her?

Obanai: She looks a lot different now. I definitely met her though

Kyojuro: 😀Yay! Isn’t she just as sweet as I always say?

Obanai: She is certainly nice.

Kyojuro: Don’t be like that. She means well. I think you’ll really like her!

The issue certainly wasn’t that Obanai didn’t like her. In fact, he found himself thinking about her bubbly personality and wondering what she could be doing. Within their first meeting, she had all but told him her entire life story. He learned that her parents owned a bakery, she was a first generation college student, her favorite color is actually yellow, and she has four cats at home that she would take a bullet for. Hell, he even learned some of the individual characteristics of the four cats. 

The door to the dorm slammed open and in walked his gracious roommate. Sanemi slung his backpack across the room and onto his bed with a loud groan. Obanai could only guess that his class hadn’t gone well from the groaned greeting. “Bad class?” Sanemi sneered and turned to look at him, “More like a really shitty test. I swear to god, that professor doesn’t know how to write tests.” He had been complaining about this class since the beginning. He hated his geriatric corrections class with a passion and bitched about it with every chance he got. Despite what everyone more than likely thought about him, he actually really didn’t like violence, especially not against the elderly or children. Sanemi droned on, frustration wrinkling at his brow, “By the way, doesn’t your freshman class need community service?” Obanai couldn’t believe that the white haired man remembered something so insignificant. He nodded nonetheless. 

“I was talking to some girl earlier today and she needs someone to help her bake and run a table for a bake sale. I went ahead and just volunteered you since you’re going to need the hours. I hated having to do community service for my freshman entry class.” Cyan and golden eyes blinked in disbelief and darted to look at Sanemi. “Why would you do that? I’m terrible at baking.” Not to mention he still had issues with being around most women. “Don’t bitch. I’m just getting you an opportunity for some community service hours. You won’t find many chances on this campus anyways. I had to help clean out an old abandoned school for most of my hours.” Obanai glanced at his lap, frustrated with his roommate. He was only half decent at normal cooking. Baking was completely off the table. Kyojuro and Senjuro had tried to get him to learn how when they were in highschool, but every time that he made the effort, something either got burned or was completely raw. Sanemi snapped him out of his thoughts, clapping his hand against his shoulder. “If you’re really worried about the baking part, the girl I talked to is annoyingly nice. I almost bet that she’ll help you out. Don’t knock it until you try it.” Mabe Sanemi was just being nice. 

—

The next day came and Obanai was still waiting for a text message from Mitsuri. As desperate as it sounded, he checked his phone every hopefully with every text or call. The only people texting him though were his father and Senjuro, leaving him a little frustrated. As he walked to the next dorm building over, he anxiously glanced at his phone. Maybe she just doesn’t want to talk to you. Kyojuro is better than you. He groaned and drug his hand over his face. He hadn’t compared himself to his brother in a long time. He had to stop holding himself to that standard, because while he was the moon, Kyo would always be the sun. 

As Obanai stepped into the H dorm building, he looked over the lobby area. There was a traditional closed-in desk with a student worker tending it, a basic sitting area with a couch, a few chairs, and a coffee table. The walls were painted mocha brown with decorative paintings of fruits and impromptu pictures of students hung up. Next to the desk was a bulletin board with an insane amount of fliers advertising campus events and rules. It was almost dizzying to look at. He approached the desk, wringing his hands together nervously. “Where is the kitchen?” The student worker glanced up with a bored expression painted on his face, brows furrowing in evident irritation. “Basement.” The worker’s blue painted nails clicked against the desk and he leaned back in his chair. His brown hair was splattered with pink and blue dye that looked out of place against his pale complexion. Who decided to make this guy the greeter for the building? “Where is the basement?” The guys blue eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head and he groaned. “To your left. Just look for the staircase that goes down instead of up.” Obanai peered passed the student worker to the board on the wall behind him. In pretty cursive handwriting was what he could only assume was the asshole’s name. Enmu Tami. 

Obanai fidgeted his fingers against his gray sweater and just nodded, not wanting to carry on a conversation with this guy. “Whatever, thanks anyways.”

A mocking smile spread across his black lipstick covered lips, “You’re most certainly welcome.”

He made his way to the two sets of stairs, choosing the ones that lead down to the basement. What an odd place to keep a kitchen. Once he made it to the large basement, he took in the look way it looked. The room was large, a small door leading to what he could assume was the kitchen, then another door that led to the laundry room. The middle space consisted of a couch and a few chairs surrounding a tv and on the side was a ping pong table. The smell of laundry soap overwhelmed the air, but the additional smell of burning made itself known. Obanai hurried over to the small kitchen area, peeking around the door. Familiar pink and green hair met his eyes. 

God damn it, Sanemi.

Chapter Text

A poppy tune that easily sounded like a blend of 90’s and lesbian fusion pumped through the kitchen. Mitsuri swayed along to the beat of the song, humming the lyrics. She stirred something that resembled cookie dough in a large pink bowl, feet picking up with the beat of the music. Obanai couldn’t help but watch as she set the bowl down on the counter and threw her arms above her head to form letters. 

“H O T T O G O, you can take me hot to go!” Mitsuri hollered along with the song, ending the little dance with a dance that closely resembled a shimmy. It was nice to see her outside of the usual loud outfits for once. She was dressed in some basic pink sweatpants, a stained white t-shirt, and some basic rainbow slides and frilly strawberry socks. Her pink and green hair was pulled up and out of her soft face in a high messy bun. In all honesty, he didn’t want to disturb her, but he knew full well that no one else would help her bake if what Sanemi said was right. This definitely solved the issue of her not texting him, but it also made him look like a serious creeper. They barely knew each other after all. She was his brother’s friend, not his. He shuffled and held the end of his long sleeve between his fingers tightly, trying to work up the nerve to speak up. 

As she sang and danced around the kitchen, he cleared his throat sheepishly and took a step through the doorway. The energy of the room shifted in an instant and the dancing ceased. The bubblegum haired girl turned in complete horror as she took notice of the form in the doorway. Embarrassment replaced her earlier mood and her pretty round face flushed pink with emotion. Her pink smile was replaced with a small frown and her nose scrunched up. “I’m so sorry!” She scrambled to grab her phone and turn down the music. Obanai shook his head quickly and spoke up, “You don’t have to turn the music off or stop. I’m just here to help. Shinazugawa told me that you needed help.” She visibly relaxed and took a breath, hand moving to twist a loose strand of hair around her pointer finger. “I should have known you wouldn’t care. It’s just a little embarrassing getting caught. Shinazugawa didn’t tell me it was you coming.” Obanai thought to himself, Oh god, she doesn’t want me here. The smile returned to her face and the sun shined bright once again, “I’m glad it’s you. I was kind of worried when he said he knew someone. I’ve never really met any of his friends. We don’t ever talk.” She descended into mindless rambling, but he didn’t mind. For whatever reason, he liked listening to the sound of her voice.  She made her way back to the bowl she was mixing batter in before and picked it up from the counter. “If you want a repetitive job, could you ice the pretzels? We’re doing pretzels and icing as one of our options.”

An idiot could ice pretzels. When Sanemi said that he would be helping bake, he was actually really nervous. “The only other thing is the chocolate chip cookies. Would you mind doing those when you’re done? I still have sugar cookies and cupcakes to finish.” There it is. Obanai nodded stiffly and spoke, “Of course.” He looked anywhere but her, looking at the cracking white paint on the basement walls, the singular window for ventilation in the upper corner of the kitchen. Women still made him nauseous to be around for certain lengths of time, but this felt like a different kind of anxious. He didn’t feel like he was in any sort of danger. Instead, he felt like his own nerves would consume him in her presence. Something about her soft round face, pink smile, and even her voice sent his heart tumbling down an elevator shaft. He had never felt any sort of attraction to women, even considering himself not interested in anything for a while.

Maybe the commune really did fuck him up a little bit. He mindlessly got to work, using a spoon to scoop up the icing onto individual pretzel sticks. His past had a funny way of rearing its ugly head in the moments they shouldn’t. The white brick walls reminded him of the room he was confined in for days, weeks on end waiting for women to pour in and offer him food. The food they would bring in was always rich and greasy, something he just couldn’t stomach. The smell would fill the small room and stick to his skin the rare moments he was drug out. The small glimpses of the actual commune always made him a little hopeful. Maybe he would move to one of the huts eventually with his female cousins. It had to be better than the room he was confined to. 

“Iguro.” Mitsuri’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Icing ran down his palm and splattered onto the counter top. His attention snapped over to her and he blinked a few times. “I got distracted.” She simply smiled and looked over everything he had already gotten done. “It’s okay. You still got a majority of the pretzels done. Let the icing harden. I have all of the ingredients for the cookies ready and the bowl clean if you want to get started.” Obanai walked over to the sink to wash the icing from his hand first, letting the hot water scald his hands for longer than necessary. The sting momentarily grounded his thoughts, bringing him back to reality. He glanced over his shoulder to steal a glance at Mitsuri. She was carefully measuring out flour for the sugar cookie dough, humming along to the music in the background. The song sounded like a soft indie pop love track, soft violins and stringed instruments singing prominently. 

Before he could watch any longer, he redirected his attention to the project in front of him. His eyes raked over the recipe laid on the counter and his arms moved thoughtfully. Even her measuring cups were in the shape of little pink hearts. He measured out two teaspoons of baking powder, 1 ¼ cups of sugar, then turned back to face the girl behind him. “Kanroji, could I borrow the flour?” Wordlessly, she passed the bag to him, trading it out for the sugar on the counter next to him. She must be really zoned in. There was an obvious handprint from her wiping the flour on her pink sweatpants and a stain from the vanilla extract spilling on her already paint stained t-shirt. He turned back to the task at hand, adding in two and a half cups of flour, spilling most of it on the grey, stone countertop. 

With a hot pink whisk, he mixed the dry ingredients together before adding in two sticks of butter, a pinch of salt, vanilla extract, and an egg. Mixing in the butter proved to be a pain in the ass by hand. Apparently it was supposed to be room temperature, and it was still too cold. A soft hand brushed his shoulder, guiding him to the left hesitantly. The pink haired girl stepped in front of him and gently took the whisk from his hand. She must have noticed his frustration or at the very least sensed it. “Let me give you a hand.” Obanai looked back at her workstation to see she already had the chocolate chip cookie dough sectioned out on baking sheets. Must be the benefits of being a baker’s daughter. 

With a strong hand, she whisked the wet and dry ingredients together before sectioning the dough out on the other two sheet pans. “Go ahead and pop them all four into the oven. I checked the recipes and they can be baked at the same temperature.” He jumped into action and grabbed the pans from the counter behind them, placing them in the oven, then the sugar cookie pans. She spoke up, “The dough still looked a bit lumpy, so your cookies may turn out a little wonky. Was the butter still cold?” His face flushed with embarrassment and he looked away. “A little.” “It’ll be alright. They are still gonna taste pretty good.” She moved across the kitchen to where the pretzels were laid on the counter, packaging them into little rainbow colored baggies as if it were muscle memory. 

He stood in awkward silence, listening to the music blaring in the background. It had shifted from the poppy 90’s, to soft indie, and now they were listening to early 2000’s rock like his father used to listen to. With practiced ease, she finished packaging the pretzels and tossed them into a pink tote bag covered with strawberries before turning to look at him. “Keep an eye on the timer.” What timer? He stared at her blankly, eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. Her eyes widened and she yelped, “Oh! I set a timer on my phone! My bad!” She hurried to her phone on the counter, checking the timer. “Fifteen minutes. That’s not too bad at all.” He nodded along with her in agreement. 

For the next fifteen minutes, she rambled about everything and nothing. The one sided conversation ranged from her cats, to her experience with her parents owning a bakery, to her being excited about running the bake sale table. “Are you going to help run the table tomorrow?” Normally, he would never volunteer himself for something like this, even if he really did need the community service hours. But just this once, he was internally dying to help her run this bake sale, even if it meant skipping one or two of his classes. He dumbly nodded, hand moving to adjust the black surgical mask over his lower face out of habit. A sweet smile blessed him, showing off the gap between her front teeth. “Really? You would be doing me such a big favor just staying for an hour. It’s supposed to run from eleven to three and no one wants to sit at the table.” Even four hours didn’t sound that bad if it meant getting the chance to sit with the embodiment of sun rays. “I’ll stay however long you need.” Mitsuri squealed excitedly, clasping her hands together. “Oh you are just the sweetest! Thank you thank you thank you, Obanai!”

“Oh course.” Missing just a few classes wouldn’t hurt. 

—---

The next day came and he showed up to the table to help set up and run the bake sale. He wore a striped black and gray sweater under a black loose jacket, which Mitsuri immediately changed courses on. She held out a white, paint splattered t-shirt with the club name on the front. She was wearing a matching one along with grey leggings and pink shoes. As much as he hated the tacky shirt, he liked the sight of her smile double it. The feeling was awkward and left him feeling stupid in front of her. Obanai shrugged his jacket off and onto the back of the chair she left open for him, then slipped the t-shirt over his head and the sweater. It looked horrendous and out of place on him, but he found himself unable to tell her no, just this once. 

The two sat at the table for the next two hours with only the sound of popular music blaring from the club speaker to distract his racing thoughts. There was definitely less traffic to their bake sale than Mitsuri thought there would be, and Obanai knew the exact problem. He was the one scaring off potential customers. Some men would point and snicker in her direction, others would oogle her as if a piece of candy. He knew the difference between candy and Mitsuri. She was sweet bubblegum, an acquired taste you should savor. Ew, that’s gross. Don’t start thinking of her like that. She already has enough men looking at her like that.  Though he was very obviously. Anyone that dared to stare in her direction would receive an icy glare from him, just to protect her feelings. 

The pink haired girl sighed loudly and rested her chin against her palm before whining, “Barely anyone is stopping by. What are we gonna do?” He hummed, “They just don’t know what they’re missing.” Mitsuri nodded in response, shifting her attention across the crowded hallway. “Maybe we should try and just beg our families on Facebook to buy the rest of our stuff.” It was a silly joke, but in all truth Obanai had no social media to his name. The risk was too great for any of his surviving family members to find him, if any were even left. The commune ran strong, surely a few survived. He had no family besides the Rengoku’s. The longer he let himself linger on the thought, he could only feel their hands dragging him down further. 

“I’m just kidding. Maybe we’ll just put these out in the lounge for faculty to take and try our hands at baking again next week.” And again, her voice pulled him back up to the surface. “What about the shirt? You want it back, right?’ She shook her head no and stood from her chair, beginning to pack the sweets up in her tote bag. “Do you want to help me with some of the other tables?” Yellow and cyan eyes blinked in confusion, hands clutched the bottom of the white shirt in his hands. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was shocked that she wanted to keep him around for other tables or in general. There was no doubt that he was the one scaring off customers yet she still wanted him to come back and work the table again. 

“I definitely can.” Her smile widened considerably and she finished packing the treats in the bag. Something was still nagging at him about her, but his nerves made it hard to ask. “Mitsuri.” She hummed in acknowledgment, slinging the bag over her shoulder. “You’re friends with Kyojuro Rengoku, right?” Without missing a beat, she spoke, “Yeah! You’re his brother, right?”

Shock rang through his body. She already knows me? “Kyo used to talk about you all the time when we were in high school. When you wrote down your name the first day, I knew exactly who you were. I just realized how weird that had to sound. I just recognized your name, I swear.” Her smile was contagious and he felt his own blooming under his mask. “It’s fine. I was just curious.”

Chapter Text

-Mid March-

Ping!

Mitsuri: I hope that you’re doing alright! We’re having a TAK meeting tomorrow if you want to come. 🙂

Obanai had been avoiding her ever since the last bake sale at the end of February, simply wanting to banish the weird infatuation he had with her. Something about just spending a simple afternoon with her baking or skipping his classes to help her run a bake sale had him wanting just a little more of her time, a little more of her attention. Hanging out with her felt like the equivalent to being a lizard reaching for a heating lamp. Of course, he was the lizard in this scenario and she’s the heating lamp if that wasn’t too obvious. 

He felt weird and creepy pining after a girl he hardly knows, especially his brother’s best friend. Mitsuri has this presence to her that comforts, but brings along an unidentifiable anxiety. Women always had a profound effect on him, though it was negative. She was a combination of all the good that women and humanity had to offer. This weird obsession with her has to stop. You’re not good enough anyways. He sucked a sharp breath between his front teeth in a shallow attempt to ground himself before his advisor meeting. Due to his freshman status and desire to graduate on time with the students that started in the fall, he would have to take extra hours until graduation. He wished that he had the luxury to not have to rush and take a shit ton of hours to graduate with his younger brother, but he was determined to not be left in the dust. Most advisors don’t meet with their students until later on in the semester, but with his circumstances, they needed an early plan. 

Keeping himself busy was the best way he found to keep his mind off of Kanroji. He pushed the door open to the science building, the familiar scent of formaldehyde invading his senses. Comfort sunk into his bones and eased his anxiety over meeting his advisor and the heavy text message that weighed down his pocket. Obanai missed the last few TAK meetings and only gave dry responses to her messages in the hopes that she would lose interest. She had no business talking to someone like him after all. He walked down a long stretch of hallway and stopped in front of door 115. The tag on the door read, Dr. Hayashi Ito. He knew of him, but had never had a one-on-one conversation with him before. With a soft knock to the door, the professor called out, “Come on in!”

Obanai pushed the door open and stepped into the cramped office, sitting in the leather chair in front of the desk. The room was crowded with shelves full of books, flower vases, cards from students, and random animal knick knacks. His desk was even messy, covered in papers, slung open colorful folders, and a few drink cups along with his laptop. He didn’t even have a standard computer? Dr. Ito smiled across the desk and reached over the mess to shake the other man's hand awkwardly before sitting back in his tattered chair. The leather was peeling off of the office chair and the arms on it were scratched to hell and back. “You’re here for some help on your schedule for next semester, right?” “The next few semesters is what your email said sir,” Obanai corrected. His brown eyes widened, wrinkling his forehead in shock. There is no way that he forgot something like that. “That completely slipped my mind. I know I read your email, but I think I have you mixed up with someone else.” So he did forget. Obanai fidgeted anxiously with his hands in his lap before speaking up, “It’s alright. I looked at my portal and the degree plan. I picked a few classes like you asked for next semester at least.” He passed a small sticky note across the desk to the advisor, watching as he looked over the writing scrawled onto it. He then moved to type something into his computer. “We can definitely get you into your one English class, but the first chemistry class is going to be full by the time you register.”

Okay, no problem. He furiously typed away on his computer and glanced over in the middle of it/ “I can however get you into your fine arts class requirement early.” The further that the conversation went on about his classes, the more it was sounding like he wasn’t getting any of his core classes this semester. “Is there any way that I can take the animal basics class?” 

Dr. Ito grimaced and shook his head. “I’ll be honest with you. I’m not quite sure. You already have so many classes to take to get you out of here on time.” Obanai’s frustration had only grown. “Okay.” 

—-

Later that day, he had learned that he managed to get one of the most disorganized professors in the department as his advisor. The best part of all, he’s stuck with him unless he switches out of this major or graduates. Dr. Ito is the only professor on campus besides the dean that has any idea of how to do scheduling for his concentration.. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket, catching his attention. He dug it out of his pocket, reading the lock screen notification. 

Kyo: I’m headed to the free movie tonight if you want to come with me. I’m sure you need to get out of the dorm

He thought about it momentarily. The only useful thing that his advisor keyed him in on was that he would need an internship for his future resumes. Dr. Ito said that he would need 150 hours of shadow work to graduate, which would be a pain in the ass with one less semester to accomplish it. Obanai reasoned with himself that he would look into internship opportunities later. He hadn’t been able to hang out with his brother since the beginning of the semester, so a movie could definitely be nice. Not to mention, it would give him a good reason to not answer Mitsuri right away. He texted back a quick ‘I’ll go’ and started towards his dorm room to change clothes. The free movie showings that the university held took place at nine, so he had plenty of time to get ready. 

—--

8:45 P.M.

Obanai waited outside of the dorm building for his brother to pick him up. He had changed into something more comfortable since he wasn’t going to be around anyone important. Plus, being in a dark room for hours sounded like nap city if the movie sucked, so comfy clothes were the obvious choice. He settled for a loose grey sweater and black cargo pants to go with his black converse. His shoes were falling apart, in desperate need to be replaced. Obanai had owned them since he was in seventh grade and refused to let go of them. He didn’t need a size up and these were technically the first shoes he’d ever been bought. Before he lived with the Rengoku’s, he never had a reason to need shoes, but they were a nice luxury to have. 

The red jeep pulled up beside the building, Kyojuro excitedly waving from the inside. There was only one issue. Familiar pink and green was settled in the front seat. 

Oh shit . 

The passenger side window rolled down and Mitsuri hung out of it, an enthusiastic smile spread across her face. Her hair was down, bubblegum waves flowing over her shoulders. “Are you excited for the movie, Obanai?” If his night wasn’t bad enough, it certainly was now.

Chapter Text

Mitsuri hung out the window with a big smile on her face. She wasn’t wearing any makeup compared to the last few times that he’d seen her. She had cute moles under each eye and slightly rosy cheeks that made her green eyes stand out. Obanai wasn’t sure how to react. How does one react to the girl you’ve been avoiding suddenly showing up?

“Are you excited for the movie, Obanai?” Her smile was radiant, nearly lighting up the dark around them. He dumbly nodded, unable to speak and simply climbed into the back seat of the jeep. Kyojuro was already happily chattering away, “That new movie looked really good. I watched the trailer for it earlier and it looked super scary!” Obanai had no idea that the movie they were going to watch was a horror movie. Then again, his brother never said what they were going to see. Mitsuri chimed in, “It’s the new Sinister, right?” The flame haired man nodded before speaking up, “The first two were rough. I’ve heard this new one is a little less gross than the first two.” Mitsuri squealed and shimmied in her seat, “We watched the first two in high school, didn’t we? I remember those ones gave me nightmares.” 

Obanai loved horror movies when they didn’t get too close to what he experienced. Anything dealing with being trapped in basements, rooms, or religious themes bothered him endlessly. The only religious film that didn’t bother him was the Omen due to its absurdity. Something about the devil’s son being born and wreaking havoc on the world as a politician seemed a bit silly to him. The only movie that had ever given him the creeps was Midsommar. The movie reminded him of the commune a little too much. Though it wasn’t a cult like the one he was raised in, the feeling that the movie provoked was close enough. He had been high off of an edible that he swiped from his father’s bedroom drawer when he first watched it. Needless to say, he had to sleep in Kyojuro’s bed with him that night. Obanai didn’t even finish the movie, instead he fell into a panic attack that set him back months in his recovery. 

This is just one horror movie. I can handle it. Obanai sat up straight in the backseat, hands fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater. Mitsuri leaned back in her seat, resting her elbow on the center console. “Have you seen the first two Sinisters?” Her soft voice snapped him out of his thoughts, forcing him to nod. He had binged the first two Sinister movies with his brother forever ago. The movies made his stomach turn when he first watched them; the second one especially. How could someone want to kill their entire family?  He anxiously picked at the skin of his fingers, listening to her talk, “Me and your brother watched it at my house when we were Sophomores and it gave me crazy nightmares. There was one night that I was so scared I called him and forced him to sneak into my house to sleep in my room.” She giggled and gently dug her fist into Kyo’s shoulder before continuing, “He slept on the floor on a little blanket mat. I still don’t know how we didn’t get caught. My parents didn’t want me watching scary movies, but I snuck around and did it all the time!”

Mtisuri couldn’t help but laugh, the sound like bells to Obanai. He felt a little out of place hanging out with his brother and Mitsuri, due to their history. They had been hanging out together longer than he could ever think about. His looming fear of women made it much harder to be around any women when he originally began living with the Rengoku’s, so he’d never met Mitsuri. He’d heard of her from his brother, but hadn’t formally met her till a couple of months ago. Obanai never truly got better at talking to women, only managed to suppress the fear outwardly. The flame haired man chimed in, reaching over to pat her shoulder, “I would have done anything that you asked when we were in high school. Do you not remember the times you’d make me sneak out for late night snacks in town?” She nodded and giggled, slapping his arm playfully. “You were a midnight snacker too and you know it. You never complained.”

Obanai leaned back in the seat, feeling a bit left out of the conversation. The only memories he had from high school were the painful adapting to school life, science classes, and quiet evenings with their dad and Senjuro. The most eventful thing he remembered doing to destress was stealing some of his Shinjuro’s sake and edibles that he had stashed in the back cabinet. The trip that ensued was terrible, lasting all night. He was barely able to hold his head up most of the night and found himself literally crawling into Kyojuro’s bed. Fortunately enough for him, his brothers and father weren’t home due to some odd family trip that he had turned down going to. Something about laying in his brother’s bed brought him a sense of peace and helped soothe his bad high. 

There was one issue with that memory though. 

He threw up all over himself, the bed, and the floor. 

Obanai wasn’t able to raise his head for the rest of the night, opting to just sleep there. The unfortunate part came in the morning when his family came back from their little trip and Kyojuro walked into his own room. He didn’t even bat an eye at his bed and floor being ruined, but instead focused all of his concern on getting his older brother cleaned up. The flame-haired boy hoisted Obanai’s body over his shoulder, carrying him to the bathroom. He gave him a tense sponge bath, keeping the conversation to a minimum. 

Obanai laid limp against the bathtub as his brother scrubs his arms and stomach down with a damp wash rag, avoiding eye contact with him. “I’m so glad that you’re okay.” That was the only thing said for the next half-hour. He knew that Kyojuro was more worried than upset, but he couldn’t help but wonder what had made him so relieved. Obanai pulled a clean sweater on and some fresh pants, offering to help clean up the ruined bed sheets, only to be turned down. Crimson eyes met his own, the corners crinkling as he smiled, “I’m glad you’re alive.”

It haunted him sometimes. He hadn’t even thought about how his brother would feel when he walked in and found him sprawled out in his bed like that. He had apologized on multiple occasions, only for it to be brushed off with a warm smile. Kyojuro was too good to him. Even though he must have been terrified finding him like that after his attempt a year before that. “Obanai?’ He glanced up to look at his brother. 

“We’re here!” Mitsuri and Kyojuro’s excitement filled the car like a pungent smoke. She climbs out of the car first, tugging her strawberry shaped purse out of the floorboard. Obanai hopped down from the backseat and onto the pavement below. He patted his left pocket to make sure that his wallet was where he left it. 

The familiar weight filled his hand in a comforting way. His anxiety ceased the moment he felt it, knowing that he wouldn’t have to ask his brother to pay his way into the theatre. The sound of the flame haired man hopping down onto the concrete caught his attention, Obanai’s feet moving him without his permission. His beat up converse carried him to stand beside Kyojuro and he listened patiently to the two’s conversation. 

Mitsuri’s excitement was contagious, seeping into his bones with a warm buzz. Standing next to her had Obanai feeling like he was a lizard basking in a heat lamp. His scales would shudder and soak in the warmth the lamp’s heat would provide desperately. The conversation shared between his brother and her blurred into the background of his mind as he walked to the theatre beside them. The glowing lights of the marquee casted a soft glow over the parking lot and entrance, drawing the trio in like flies to a zapper. The man that worked the ticket stand was taller, sporting an outfit that couldn’t be described as anything less than eccentric with intricate patterns. His hair was pulled back into a tight purple braid, eyes standing out against his pale complexion in an entrancing amber color. Kyojuro stepped forward, “My good sir, could I get three tickets to the Sinister movie showing at 9:15?” 

It was like the second this guy heard what movie we wanted to see, his entire mood lifted. 

“I’ve heard that it’s a fantastic movie. The gore that they use for the scenes are even better than the last two. They are even bringing back the main villain for the sequel if you guys are into that sort of thing. I’m hoping that this one has a lot more visible blood than the last ones, personally.” He must have rambled on for a good five minutes and was pretty clearly bringing down the mood. Obanai stepped forward, slamming his money down on the table, leaving no room for further discussion. 

“Three tickets for Sinister.”

Message received, finally. 

‘Gyokko’ or whatever his name tag said turned to grab the tickets, passing them across the counter without another word. He looked like he was maybe a couple years older than us; he was probably a college student himself if any of them had to guess. Obanai didn’t really care to learn anything about this guy, nor did he want to give him the time of the day. He snatched the tickets from the oak counter top, moving to the snack stand with practiced ease. Anytime his brother and him went out to any movie, Kyojuro always wanted some popcorn to snack on, so he figured that their routine wouldn’t change. Mitsuri walked over, a small frown pulling at her lips. Then, Obanai began to wonder to himself if he had done anything to upset her in the last five minutes. He figured surely he couldn’t have. 

“I’m so embarrassed.” That was the first thing that left her mouth. Then, he noticed the faint tint of red radiating from the apple of her cheeks. “Is everything alright, Kanroji?” He mumbled, trying not to capture his brother’s attention. Her gaze shifted to Obanai and her frown deepened, “I can’t believe I did it, but I forgot my wallet back at Kyo’s apartment.” Her statement was punctuated by the sound of her stomach growling. In truth, Obanai had already paid for all three of their tickets without a second thought and he certainly wouldn’t mind paying for her to get a snack for the movie. The last thing Obanai wanted was for her to go without, especially after the few bake sales that she had wasted with him. 

“Pick out a few snacks. I don’t mind paying for you to get something.” 

Her expression changed to something unreadable, then one of shock, “Oh my god, I couldn’t possibly ask for you to pay for me.”

“Think of it as me paying you back for losing those customers at your bake sales.” Obanai fished his wallet from his pants pocket, looking at her expectantly. She only smiled, shaking her head, “I’m telling you; you didn’t scare any of my customers off, Iguro.”

He didn’t want to believe it, but if she said it, then maybe it was the truth. “Go ahead, take your pick.” She stepped up to the counter, ordering a small thing of popcorn. He felt like his own brain cells were melting for a moment before he piped in and upsized it to a large. “Grab some candy too if you want it. Also pick out something to drink.” From the few times that they hung out, he had taken notice of her appetite. She had a nasty habit of trying to stifle her eating habits around other people, which contrasted heavily with what Kyojuro had told him over the years. If she had an appetite that could keep up with his brother, he wanted to make sure that she had more than enough to last her the movie. 

 A smile graced her features as she glanced back at him, then ordered a coke and some chocolate pieces. Obanai ordered himself one of the small cups of the artificial lemonades from the theatre worker, then passed her his debit card to charge their food and drinks too. The lady behind the counter giggled and swiped his card before handing it back, “How sweet. I hope you two enjoy the movie. Would you like a bucket to share for the popcorn?” Obanai quickly shook his head, “The popcorn is for her. I don’t plan to eat here.” 

The lady seemed a little shocked, as did Mitsuri. They both watched the lady awkwardly gather the chocolate pieces, popcorn and drinks for the both of them. “I’m sorry that you had to buy that for me.”

“Kanroji, don’t apologize to me for that. I wanted to.” His tone was sure, unwavering as he reassured her. 

Her eyes widened as she looked at him, hurriedly blinking away tears. Flame-colored hair wooshed beside them both as Kyojuro joined the conversation, “I got my snacks!” His voice boomed through the small theatre, gaining some heated glances from onlookers entering and leaving other rooms. Obanai hurriedly hushed his brother, looking around anxiously. He always hated the unnecessary attention that being around him brought on, but he would never admit it out loud. He loved him too much to complain about the heated glares in his direction as well. 

The small group made their way down the stretched hallway to a smaller theatre room. There were only four other people in the entire auditorium. Just from what Obanai had heard from his brother about the new movie coming out, a lot of critics bitched that the movie wouldn’t be up to snuff. 

No pun intended. 

Most people don’t like sequels and add-ons to their favorite series, including this one apparently. Kyojuro didn’t venture onto Reddit often, but for movies and Noa Mask theatres he would scour for the deepest reviews he could find. The three sat down in the fold out seats, placing down their drinks in the cup holders to their right. The next thirty minutes blurred together with the on screen trivia, then the previews for different movies. Mitsuri was practically vibrating in the seat next to Kyojuro, shaking his arm and grinning ear to ear as the ominous music played over the surround sound. 

The scene opened up with a small child running down a long, forested road with the classic Sinister ominous music in the background. The child ran in dead silence with only this music thrumming in the viewer’s ears. As Obanai watched, he felt his own palms growing sweaty. The scene painted in front of him was too familiar for comfort. He felt the grit of the rocks and dirt under his feet, blood seeping between his toes in wet splashes like stomping puddles. 

His lungs felt tight with the same force with which he himself ran down that similar forested dirt road. Obnai blinked and found himself in the same place as the movie’s protagonist, running down the path with no end in sight. He felt his own lungs screaming from the sharp intakes of air, face burning and wet as something dripped down his cheeks. His long hair swayed from the force of which he sprinted, small legs carrying him further from the flames of the commune. 

‘Why can’t I catch my breath?’

A frantic hand shook at his shoulder, barely serving to pull him back to the present. He was hyperventilating in the middle of the dead silent theatre, lights turned on. The only other four people in the theatre had scrambled down the aisle to call the ambulance, standing in the corner of the theatre near the hallway. Mitsuri stood to the side, giving Kyojuro the space to help Obanai. He felt his lungs straining in a failing attempt to draw in air, his mask soaked with both tears and perspiration. He pushed himself up and out of the seat, trudging down the stairs and the hallway, Kyojuro trailing behind him. Obanai waved him off, holding onto the wall as he pushed the bathroom door open and crumpled to the floor, urging himself to take deep breaths. 

In, out, in, out.

His breathing was labored as he attempted to regain a semblance of control. Five things around the room. He whispered to himself, “Porcelain sink, gray concrete wall… clouded window, smudged mirror, checkered floor.” He repeated the objects around the room to himself in an effort to catch his heartbeat and settle it. Four things he could feel. His hand trailed from his hair, to his mask, soft sweater, then the squared concrete walls, tracing slowly to memorize the feeling beneath his fingertips. The bathroom smelled like it had just been cleaned with heavy citric chemicals that burned your nose hairs off just with one whiff. 

A soft knock fell against the door, catching Obanai’s attention. “Oba, are you alright?” It was Kyojuro.

“I’m alright. Don’t worry about it.” 

“You didn’t seem fine when you left.” He pushed as if looking for an answer.

“If you’d give me a fucking minute, I’d be fine.” 

Then, there was a pause. “Do you want to go home for the night?”