luna and mana once fought over who will ride draken’s bike instead of mitsuyas like “ sorry big bro but draken is cooler than you sometimes ” and draken was like “ that is correct cause I have this unique tattoo ” and they d all just laugh about it together
once mitsuya requested draken to babysit luna and mana and luna and mana braided his hair and everytime draken saw them again he d ask them to braid his hair for him and say that they do it better cause it makes em happy.
once mitsuya requested draken to babysit luna and mana and luna and mana braided his hair and everytime draken saw them again he d ask them to braid his hair for him and say that they do it better cause it makes em happy.
They d use the same as their own ribbons and draken d say he likes it and then they d make two braids out of his hair and mitsuya coming home just to see draken in pig tails and he d go “ wow draken you should one day model for me when I become a fashion designer wearing your hair exactly like this ”
“Can you aim it right?” 17-year-old Mitsuya questions, leaning against a tree a few feet away. He watches as Y/N examines her gun again, a silencer set right on the barrel. It was her birthday present that she unwrapped yesterday, from Sanzu himself. She rolls it on and checks her mag. “I don’t trust Sanzu to teach you. He just shoots off and hopes for the best.”
A newly 16-year-old Y/N glances to him from the targets set up by Draken. “I can aim just fine, thank you very much.” She retorts, tightening the silencer and holding out her weapon, “And Sanzu said I’m pretty much a pro at this point. You’ve seen me shoot things.”
“Yeah. You nearly shot Hakkai when he interrupted your practice.” He deadpans, tilting his head down to her, “Maybe you should leave the bullets to Sanzu.”
Y/N gives a large sigh, facing the targets on the tree stumps further away from her, “This puts me on the level beneath Mikey. If I have this, then I’m strong.”
Everyone knew how Mitsuya felt about violence. He stands there, arms crossed over his chest and holding onto his arms tightly. He never liked watching his friend be like this, so determined to be stronger than what she was. Y/N’s strength lived in her respect for and from others, and how she never gave up. He’s watched her get thrown to the ground by Draken and Chifuyu multiple times, just for her to get stronger. While she wasn’t strong enough to defeat the Vice, Chifuyu found it harder and harder to contain her. She was… admirable. But he never liked why she did what she did.
It was always Mikey. She had to be better than Mikey. She needed to be better than Mikey. She could never just be herself.
“Alright. Go ahead.” Mitsuya says.
A deep breath. And she shoots. There are seven targets, painted on different cans of empty cat food that Chifuyu kindly gave to them to use. Five of them get knocked over. The last two are dented in the side, slightly sliding in their spot. A click leaves Y/N’s mouth.
“Shit.”
“That’s good.” Mitsuya praises, standing by her with a hand on her shoulder, “At least you hit them. You don’t always have to be on target, as long as you do some damage.” He lifts his hand and walks over, examining the still standing cans. “Sometimes it’s better to do less damage.”
Y/N stares at the back of his head and his movement. She shoves her gun back into her holster and stands beside him. “Do you think that Toman is getting better, or worse?” She questions, holding the can in her palm and rubbing her thumb over the dent.
“Better. For sure.” He replies in no time, “You’ve grown the gang, and we’ve filled our Divisions to the max, we’ll have to wither shuffle people around or start a new group. And everyone who has belittled you, now works for you. I think it’s better.”
She puts the cans down as Mitsuya does, walking back to their spot as new targets take place. She lifts her gun. “But they’d rather work for Mikey than for his ex-girlfriend.”
One, two, three, four, five, six targets down. One hit.
“If I don’t get more valuable, then I’ll die out like he did.”
One, two, three, four, five, six targets down. One miss.
“I can’t let them down.”
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven down.
Mitsuya puts the damaged cans in the trash bag, seeing Y/N rolling off the silencer. It’s been an hour of practice. She puts her things away and makes her way with Mitsuya to their bikes.
“You know.” He begins, turning his bike on, “You remind me of Shinichiro.”
She feels her heart pick up when the name is mentioned.
“He was a weak king, but never gave up.” Mitsuya claims, seeing Y/N trace the tiger on her bike, “But the difference between you and him, is that you are trying to be Mikey. He was himself.”
Sometimes, Y/N hated how right Mitsuya was.
She found him staring and watching her, all the time. Almost like a constant analysation of his Commander. Even when she shut herself in after that Halloween, he was there to see how she was doing. Y/N could hate him, more like she wanted to hate him, just because he was so observant. She hated all of it.
Y/N shakes her keys in her hands.
“I’m going to visit Kazutora, I’ll meet you at home.” She says, driving in the opposite way as Mitsuya was.
17-year-old Hanemiya Y/N’s gun is smoking from the barrel. Yells have stopped as Kisaki Tetta falls to the ground. Hanma slowly turns to the person laying slightly behind him, watching as the blood pools around his body. Part of him is speechless, and the other part feels his heart beating faster than ever.
His eyes land on Y/N, who is wide eyed, watching Kisaki. Her gun is still aimed at him, not letting up just in case he would still move. Hanma grits his teeth, fists clenched.
“What an idiot…” He mumbles to himself.
“HANMA!” Draken shouts loudly, charging towards him almost immediately as the realisation falls upon him. Hanma steps back only for Draken to throw a punch to to his face. He grabs Hanma’s shirt, repeatedly punching his cheek. “YOU FUCKING BASTARD! I’LL KILL YOU!”
Y/N’s eyes stay on Kisaki, palms hot against the handle.
Lemaire has his eyes on her as she stands in front of him, shoulders strong and gun still aimed at the body on the floor. He has never killed anyone himself, actually. It had always been someone else’s actions that he just so happened to be behind. Lèmeiux was older than Lemaire, and being Lemaire’s brother’s right-hand man, he was more experienced when it came to dealing with traitors and punishing them.
But killing someone with the blood on his hands?
Lemaire had no idea.
Lèmeiux is kneeling beside his Commander, being free of Draken’s hold. He places a gentle hand onto his shoulder. “Are you alright?” He mutters, facing him fully, “Merde… your nose is definitely broken.”
Lemaire waves him away, wiping the blood from his chin. “Who the Hell are those two?” He questions, nodding towards Hanma and Kisaki. He had no clue what they were up to, but he already did not like them at all. They seemed to be the reason why Y/N was going crazy. “I have never seen them before.”
“I don’t know, but I got a feeling that they got something to do with the two guys from the Second Unit.” Lèmeiux states, standing with his boss and looking at Draken currently tackling Hanma to the ground, and Y/N’s aim continuing to be on Kisaki. He was referring to the incident within Clair de Lune where two members from the Second Unit were sent to the hospital with their uniforms stolen. It leaves a bad taste on his tongue. “Toman is full of snakes, it seems.”
“It’s just them two.” Lemaire responds, his broken face turning serious, “Without them, Toman would be perfect.”
He’s never known about the civil wars in Toman. Kisaki and Hanma, they flew under their radar. Everyone’s radar. Except for Toman. How the Hell did two people seem to be so invisible? Either the two of them were incredible smart and sneaky, or they mattered too little for anyone else to notice. Lemaire had a feeling it was the first.
Mitsuya and Mikey are in the front of the crowd. Neither of them can believe what was going on. The sound of gasps all around them had rung out, along with the sound of the shot itself. But they can’t utter a single word, Y/N doesn’t waver. She still looks ready to go, but she’s holding herself back. Kisaki would have to be six feet under for her to stop.
“You asshole!” Draken shouts, drawing another punch with his already bloodied fists, “I fucking hope you survive after this, so that I can you the fuck up all over again. You’ll regret ever being born.”
Hanma laughs in his face, blocking a punch and kneeing Draken in the stomach, “Oh please, I’m living my fucking life so I don’t have to regret it.” The smile on his face makes Draken fume. He pulls back, hands burning. “You couldn’t fuck me up even if you tried, Ken.”
Draken throws his knuckles at Hanma’s jaw. “Don’t fucking call me that.” He scowls, lifting him up from his collar. Hanma falls a little at the sudden and harsh action, slipping on his hands and knees. “You took Emma from me. I’ll never forgive you or Kisaki. You two can burn in Hell for all I care.”
And he gives another smirk. Hanma pushes against Draken’s shoulders, hard. “You sending me off to see her for you?” He chuckles.
Draken swears that he is a good man, but Hanma… he is testing that.
“He’s gonna’ kill him.” Chifuyu mentions, his chest heaving as his body calms down from the fighting.
“Y/N might shoot if we move.” Takemichi says, gesturing to the leader in front of them, “She’s… angry.” There’s this feeling of fear that emits from him.
Last time Y/N looked this upset, it was because someone in her club ruined her nearly finished project. Instead of taking it out on them, she asked to fight Mitsuya and was so close to winning if it wasn’t for the fact that Mitsuya realised she was being serious.
“She won’t shoot us.” Mitsuya states, “She’s got good enough aim. And she’s only angry at Hanma and Kisaki.”
Still, that doesn’t make them feel any better. Mitsuya himself is scared. He doesn’t like how Y/N is still holding her weapon, or the fact that she brought it at all. It was this precaution that she always thought of, and always carried around with her where she needed. He hated that thing.
Mikey is keeping his eyes on Draken. While Y/N was in no way hurt, his best friend was in danger. Hanma was a sneaky little shit, and he always had something up his sleeve. Kisaki would tell him to have a plan B, C, D and everything after that. He didn’t trust those two one bit.
Y/N begins to take her step towards Kisaki as Draken launches another flurry of punches to his opponent. With a deep breath, she lowers her gun and walks over to him.
“I’ve always hated you, Kisaki.” She mutters out, pistol held tightly in her hand. She knits her brows as she glares down at him on the floor. Pathetic and unmoving. It makes her sick. “Ever since you became a part of Toman all those years ago, I’ve hated you. And I don’t hate a lot of people.”
She lifts her boot and shoves it into Kisaki’s chest. He lets out a bloodied cough. She looks disappointed.
“Fuck you.” She sighs, leaning onto the foot heaving into his body, “I wish I didn’t miss. Your heart is just a few inches away.”
Kisaki places a hand on around her ankle, weak and trying. He’s unable to push her off, the pain is too much. He can’t manage to get his breathing under control, and he is getting no mercy from the girl above him.
Shit.
He should’ve killed Y/N like Hanma said to do. He said that if they just eliminated Y/N, then they could take over Toman themselves. Hanma or Kisaki could’ve killed her whenever they saw her at school. She had no people around to protect her, no gun, no motorcycle to escape with. She was alone. And she was vulnerable. There were so many chances he could’ve taken. He should’ve shot her and Draken in the back of their heads while they waited for Emma. That girl wouldn’t have done a thing.
Killing Emma might’ve been a start, but Y/N was going to end him now.
Y/N leans down, grabbing a handful of his hair and tugging him up harshly. He winces as she lowers her voice. “Emma is better than the both of us, you didn’t deserve to even breath the same air as her. How dare you do this?” She scowls, lifting her gun. With a quick movement, she bashes the bottom of her handle against Kisaki’s jaw. “Pray for your life and apologise. Beg for me to let you live, even though I will never do that. Go out with some sense of respect.”
He’s heaving to get a decent breath, but the way her heel digs into his chest and her fingers wringing his hair is making it hard. Kisaki can’t think of anything. Anything to get him out of this alive. He looks to the side. Hanma is practically passed out with Draken kicking him in the stomach repeatedly. The two of them are beat.
Kisaki looks back to Y/N, who could kill him with that gaze. He sends a glare back. “You didn’t deserve everything you got after Mikey left.” He states, “Everything you were handed, you were just given all the power because Mikey had a thing for you. You… You are nothing without him. You’ll never be anything more than his ex.”
Everyone can hear them. And for anyone who didn’t know Kisaki before, they know what he can be like now. This manipulative, whining liar who never gets his way. And Hanma, his lap dog. But with everything they’ve heard about Y/N, there’s never been a worse thing to say to her.
Y/N stares at him.
Who the Hell did he think he was?
Who the Hell did he think he was talking to?
She stands up, tugging him up as she lifts her foot off of him. Kisaki grunts as he gets pulled to his knees. Y/N stands in front of him blood sprayed across her uniform from her run-in with Lemaire. He looks up at her, hand pressing against his shoulder and trying to stop the pain.
“You’ll be nothing more than the dirt beneath my shoe.” She responds, “You’re a follower, you think that having Hanma means that you’re invincible. You don’t do shit, and you aren’t shit. Don’t talk down to me like you’re better. I can be ten times the man you think you are.”
Without another word, she brings the end of her gun to his forehead. Kisaki holds his breath, staring right back at her, as if to challenge the girl. Y/N is having none of it.
The gun rotates until the barrel is in her palm. And she draws back her hand, striking his face with the gun as if it was a bat. She goes back and forth, swinging with all her might. Kisaki has no time to think, too little strength to stop. His glasses are broken on the floor beside him.
Mikey can feel some flashbacks coming through. The sight of Y/N and Kisaki, is the exact same one as Kazutora and himself.
It goes for a few more minutes before Draken finally lays his eyes on his Commander. Y/N is seeing red, this… dark impulse surrounds her. And he’s knocked back into reality, the fact that he can’t allow her to go on. He lifts himself up from Hanma, giving him one last scowl before walking towards Y/N.
His footsteps are heard from where she stands. “You want a couple hits before we end him?” She questions, voice without hesitation. She doesn’t think twice about what she implies. “I want him to suffer.”
She gets one last hit before her wrist is stopped, held by Draken behind her. She doesn’t say anything, looking over her shoulder to him, Kisaki still in front of her with his head hung low. Y/N’s expression doesn’t change, she still looks furious, fingers tight around the barrel. Nobody dares to breathe louder than the rest of the crowd. It’s too intense, with all eyes on Y/N.
“Let go of me.” She orders. She’s never used that tone before, and her wrist is straining against Draken’s hand. Her handle is bloodied and dropping with red from Kisaki’s face. Nothing can satisfy her thirst for revenge.
He shakes his head. “Stop that. Look at what you’re doing.” He retorts. The blood trickles down his wrist as well.
“Are you saying I shouldn’t kill this bastard?” She says, holding tighter onto her gifted weapon, “Why does he deserve to live? I have every right to split his skull open right now.”
A kick pulls back and launches against the side of Kisaki’s head.
“Stop to fucking think for a second, Y/N.” Draken demands, getting more frustrated by the second. Because she is right, they have every right to be mad at him and want him gone. He himself was ready to throw that guy in a dumpster fire. “He’s done. Emma… didn’t want this for you.”
She’s glaring at the top of Kisaki’s head. “Don’t tell me what Emma wanted.” She huffs back, pulling her hand out of his grasp, “She told me all of that. And none of it is gonna’ happen because this asshole took her away from us.” She places her boot against Kisaki’s shoulder and shoves him back. “You ruined my life, so I’ll take yours.”
“Y/N—” Draken begins, loud.
“What?” She shouts back, turning around with her gun barrel held tightly in her palms.
But as she lands her gaze on her Second-in-Command, her eyes widen and her tighten fists loosen that little bit.
Draken holds his breath, a sharp pain in his lower back. Once a second passes, he feels something get pulled out of his skin.
“Fuck…” Hanma chitters, dropping the bloodied knife to the floor as he takes a few steps back, “That was easier than I thought.”
Draken turns around, throwing an arm out and knocking Hanma onto his rear. A great huff comes from him, “I’ll fucking kill you!”
“You can’t do that if you’re already dead yourself, Ken.” Hanma retorts, laying on his back and looking to the sky.
“DRAKEN!” Toman yells, voices loud and booming across the area.
“Kenny…” Mikey says, pushing passed Mitsuya and gradually jogging towards his best friend.
Mitsuya stands still for a few seconds. “What the Hell….?” He mumbles to himself, “What is this…?” He walks towards him as well, soon picking up speed and running.
The Vice Commander scowls, shivers going up his spine as the pain surges through his body. A fall to his knee is what makes Y/N run step towards him.
“Draken?” She mutters out, gun back in its holster and placing her hands on his shoulders. The guy is coughing blood onto the floor, making her heart beat faster with anxiety.
She kneels in front of him, holding his shoulders up. He can’t sit up straight. Mikey comes to his side soon enough, panicked and not knowing what to do. Mitsuya is behind Draken, examining the stab wound. It’s deep, too deep. The kind of wound that you’d expect someone to pass out from because of all the pain. But Draken is here, awake. Slightly.
Mitsuya looks towards Mikey, a solemn expression. Mikey clenches his jaw and grips harder onto Draken’s sleeve.
“It’s fine, it’s fine, we’ll take you to the hospital, it’s fine. You’re fine. You’ll be okay.” Y/N states, looking him dead in the eye with her voice shaking. Draken stares back at her, blank, with blood dripping from his mouth. Y/N can’t help the way her eyes are burning, or how her chest tightens at the scene. “You’re listening to me, right?”
“Y/N.” He replies, lifting a heavy hand up to her. She furrows her brows with a frown, his palm now resting on top of her head. “It’s okay.”
“This is not okay! Emma’s not coming back, so you have to!” She retorts, shaking his shoulders frantically.
Mikey leans back in his spot. “Kenny.” He calls. Draken turns to his childhood friend. “I’m sorry.”
The taller man holds his laboured breath for a moment. And then smiles, letting out a chuckle, “You ass, waiting up until this point to tell me.” Mikey doesn’t say anything to that. In return, Draken tilts his head down. “I forgave you once I saw Emma hug you. You can rest easy now.”
Mikey lets out a long sigh, nodding his head once.
“Mitsuya.” Draken speaks up, making the 19-year-old behind him turn his head. The lavender-haired boy gives a short hum in acknowledgement. “Thanks for saving Y/N. Please continue to help her.”
“I will.” Replies Mitsuya, who wipes his cheeks from tears.
“Y/N—”
“Shut up.” She responds, punching a fist into the hard concrete beneath her. Tears pool in her eyes and she glares towards Draken. “I don’t want to hear it from you. I… fuck.”
Draken grunts, bonking the top of her head, “Listen to me, idiot. Emma’s funeral speech… Could you read mine for me?” Her expression softens, until her lips are parted and her brows are lifted. “It would mean a lot. To me, and to Emma.”
She can’t decline his request. If she did, it’d haunt her for the rest of her life. Y/N only takes his fist off of her head and responds, “I will.”
“Thank you—” Draken is interrupted by a fit of coughs. He covers it with his hand, now covering the skin with red. He doesn’t look regretful or panicked, not how Y/N, Mikey and Mitsuya look right at this second.
Draken only lays his hands on his lap, staring at his bloodied palms and knuckles. He wouldn’t want to leave any other way. His friends are beside him, and he will be seeing Baji, Kazutora… and most importantly, he’ll be with her.
“I’m on my way, Emma.”
Silence.
“Kenny?”
Silence.
Y/N holds her breath. And stands up.
Her tears are now dried along her cheeks, anything still wet being wiped off her face with the back of her hand.
She doesn’t look sad anymore.
Draken is cold and he sits there, blood etching from his back onto the ground around him. He can’t say anything to Y/N anymore. No more 'think before you act’, or 'at least look presentable’. Draken is gone now.
She doesn’t know what to do.
If the people she cares about are dropping one by one, then who will be the last person?
Next thing she knows, it might be Mikey, or Mitsuya, or Hina, or Takemichi, or Chifuyu… They could all be next.
“You’re fucking dead now.” She spits out venomously, sliding her handgun out from her holster. She walks towards Kisaki, who had sit up to watch the whole thing play out. Throughout their many years of planning and trying to gain control of Toman, they had never managed to kill any of the Commanders. Not even when Takemichi was a Commander. Y/N kicks him upside the chin, making Kisaki yelp and fall back. Her gun is aimed at his head. “I’d kill you with my bear hands, but I don’t want to get infected by a piece of shit like you.”
“Go throw yourself onto the highway.” Kisaki scowls back, scornful expression on his face. His glasses as sitting a few feet away, broken and bent. He doesn’t bother reaching for them.
Y/N squints at him. And lifts her gun to check her magazine. Half-empty. With a satisfied overlook, she clicks the mag back into her weapon.
“Your mother made the mistake of having you.” She tells Kisaki. He grits his teeth. Seething. “I’ll fix it for her.”
And just as she’s about to squeeze the trigger, a hand falls on top of her shoulder. Her finger relaxes, unwillingly.
