Chapter Text
“Baaaaaby,” Kirara whined, pacing in circles around the monitor room and kicking at wrappers that had fluttered off the coffee table. The office was a damn mess, and with the bleeding white glow of the TV monitor wall, it was seriously overstimulating. She needed her man. She needed at least three kisses for the trouble. Kirara groaned and stacked a couple of empty shot glasses on the table, belly grumbling from hunger.
Hakari was taking his sweet time in the washroom. She knew he was re-tapering his hair, the new bleached look something he was quite proud of. And, to be fair, as the final boss of the Gachinko Fight Club, he had an image to maintain.
“Baby, let me help you at least,” Kirara drawled.
“Darling, you know I have my method,” he called through the closed door, light spilling out from beneath it, and the heavy scent of tobacco and moringa oil. He groaned through the closed door of the washroom, light flooding out from under the doorway.
Eventually, after far too much boredom for Kirara, Hakari waltzed out, hair perfectly styled into puffy lines sweeping to the back of his head. He spun in a grandiose circle to show off his new fit: a figure-hugging white tank and an unbelievably expensive Russian black sable coat.
Kirara smiled, feeling happy and very proud of her hunk of a rich boyfriend.
“Hottie.” She latched onto his side as he dropped onto the sofa, one leg cocked to flash his Jordans.
“Ah,” he groaned. “Busy, busy week, darling. First time I’ve had to redo the fro.”
“I know, baby. Fight club’s been busy.”
“Hard work pays off, girl.” He flashed a crooked smile, his hand drifting to Kirara’s bare hip. She was enjoying the fit of her new peasant-blouse crop top.
“How was your day, love?” he asked, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.
“Um…” Kirara drawled, picking at her mouth piercings, eyes fixed on the middle camera’s live stream, showing a pretty bloody fight.
He narrowed a brow and took a drag, glancing at her from his side. “Spit it out.”
“I…hey…”
“You know I don’t like to wait.”
“Okay, okay, baby.” Kirara felt scatterbrained, still worrying her piercing out of its clasping. “There was just an issue at Jujutsu High today. No biggie.”
She knew the second it left her mouth, it was a mistake. Hakari had a sore spot about that school. People who got kicked out rarely wanted reminders.
Smoke curled into her nose, snapping her back into the present.
“Tell me.” He crushed the cigarette into the ashtray.
“I just…I shouldn’t have gone back. I was trying to see someone. Anyways, I just got misgendered.”
Hakari’s glare sharpened.
“I ran into teachers. Old students and some faculty. They called me a guy, um. I tried to explain things had changed and that I am a woman, but they wouldn’t listen.”
“And?”
“They kept calling me a guy.” Kirara picked at her top.
Hakari sat up straight, and she slid off him. He grabbed a glass, poured a drink, downed it, then slammed it on the table hard enough to make her jump.
“Those fucking assholes.”
“Baby, it’s okay…”
“No.” He shot her a look. “It’s not. Those pricks can’t understand a simple concept even if it's handed to them on a silver platter.”
Kirara let out a small, awkward laugh. “It sucked.” The words still burned in her ears.
“I’m sorry, Babygirl.” He leant back, looping an arm around her. “They’re not worth explaining yourself to.”
She nodded slowly. “It’s too bad. If Gojo were still here, I know it’d be different.”
“I know.” He nodded. “He despised the school’s higher-ups.”
“Do I...like…pass? Do you think? Do you think it’s my fault?” Kirara cringed at her sudden questions.
Hakari frowned. “Babe, you’re beautiful. As I said, forget those pricks.”
She nodded. “Maybe they’re confused why we’re still dating, since we did back then too.”
“If they want to confuse themselves, let them,” he said. “You have been and always will be mine, no matter what, darling.” He took another drag of his cigarette. “Besides, you’re too busy with the Love Club to worry about stupid high school drama.”
He was right. With the new business, it wasn’t like she had time to dwell on the past. And if the higher-ups ever found out about the Love Club, they wouldn’t approve either.
Kirara changed the subject. “Those two yesterday, Yuji and Megumi, those were a funny pair, hey.”
Hakari nodded and held out a cigarette for her to share. Kirara took a drag, the smoke settling in her empty stomach.
“Yes. Apparently, Yuji Itadori can fight in three dimensions. It’d be great entertainment for the guests, different than what we’ve seen. And with Megumi’s shadow control? That’s a strong draw.” Hakari tapped a finger on his chin. “They could bring in serious cash.”
“Well, I agree, but… I saw something.”
“Okay, don’t leave me hanging, babygirl.”
“I spotted Megumi and Yuji yesterday outside our office.” She played with the hem of her crop top. Hakari kept his eyes on the live stream camera feeds, buzzing and clicking away.
“Meaning?” he grunted.
“Well…”
“Darling, you know I don’t like waiting.”
“Right, right,” she exhaled, smoke still lingering in her nose. “They didn’t see me because they were hiding a bit, but I saw them…making out.”
Hakari raised a pierced brow. “Intriguing.”
“Yeah. I wasn’t expecting it,” she said with a small laugh. “And I kinda couldn’t look away.”
“You snooped again, didn’t you?”
“I couldn’t help it!
Hakari tsked. “They didn’t see you, though?”
“Nope. But after a couple of minutes, you could tell there was something real there. I want them hired, Hakari!”
Hakari smiled. “My little businesswoman, always recruiting, hm?”
“We’ve got a gap to fill. Imagine the client’s excitement when we announce two new… gay…performers. I want my place to be more inclusive.”
“Proud of you, baby,” he said, squeezing her. “How much do you think they’ll bring in?”
“Based on the client’s requests? A lot.”
He flicked ash into the tray. “That’s my girl.”
“Well? I deserve a better reward than that.”
Hakari laughed. “Alright, alright. I’ve got some free time.”
She grinned and climbed onto his lap.
*
Kirara stepped out of the office, hair tousled, lipstick smudged, already fixing herself up. Yuji and Megumi had no idea they were about to be offered the job of a lifetime.