Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Sugihara's POV

“Take care of the little lady for me.”

Ever since I saw that damn text message from Kirishima, I’ve been torn apart by a hurricane of confusion and frustration. Tooru Kirishima — the so-called Demon of the Sakuragi family — would never act like that. So, naturally, I assumed he was screwing with me again, like always.

But then the boss confirmed it. He handed the responsibility of caring for the little lady over to me, and that was when it really hit me: this wasn’t a joke. It was very real and very much dumped into my lap at the ass-crack of dawn.

I was too anxious to even focus on taking care of Yaeka. My mind kept spinning, so I made the only logical choice I could think of — track down that idiot and drag him back home myself.

“All I do is cause trouble.”
“Walking away before I lose what’s important to me.”

The hell was he even thinking? Is this why everyone calls him a stray cat? Because he vanishes the second things get complicated? Did he really think disappearing would magically fix things?

When the little lady asked if she could come with me to find him, I was hesitant at first. But if he wouldn’t listen to me, maybe at least she’d knock some sense into that thick skull of his.

We eventually found him at a playground — of all places. And the second I laid eyes on him, something inside me snapped. It was like a dam broke wide open. I completely lost it. My vision went red, and I didn’t even register that Yaeka was still right beside me.

I did notice there was someone else standing near him, but all my attention was focused on the dark-haired fool in front of me. His midnight-blue hair, messy as always, his stupid sunglasses hanging off his collar like nothing was wrong. I grabbed him by the shirt collar — hard — and the second I felt him solid under my hands, a strange wave of relief washed over me.

He was in one piece. He was okay. Not hurt. Not gone. I didn’t have to drag a gravely injured demon back home.

That relief lasted all of five seconds before I started yelling at him. I don’t even remember what I said. It was all a blur — all the thoughts and panic from this morning just exploded into a rant. I couldn’t stop. Couldn’t let go. Even after I was done yelling, I still had a fistful of his shirt, like I was afraid if I let go, he’d just vanish again.

“How the hell am I gonna go home if you're clinging to me like this?”

The bastard had the audacity to complain. That’s when I realized — I really was clinging to his shirt like it was my lifeline. My fingers were practically locked into the fabric. I let go in lightning speed, nearly stumbling backward.

And then came the demon’s wrath.

He started scolding me for lecturing him — can you believe that? It was only then I realized who else was there. The other person I’d noticed earlier was none other than the former First Lieutenant of the Sakuragi family, Tōichirō Aoi. Great. What a perfect audience for my meltdown.

Yaeka had huddled closer to him. She must’ve been startled by my outburst earlier. Great. Now I felt even more like a jerk. Kirishima quickly turned his attention back to her, and after a quick farewell to Aoi, we left the playground together.

On the way back home, I finally had time to reflect. To actually think.

Think about what just happened.

Think about how I acted.

Think about how it all made me feel.

And the truth is — I was scared. Genuinely scared. The thought of Kirishima leaving was like someone had shoved a pillow over my face. I couldn’t breathe. But the moment I saw him again, it was like all the air rushed back into my lungs. When I lashed out at him, it wasn’t just anger. I wasn’t thinking straight. It was everything that had built up since this morning — every second of not knowing where he was or if he was okay.

Why did I feel like that? If Kirishima disappeared, wouldn’t my life be easier? No one to tease me, no one to poke at me constantly. I might even get promoted to First Lieutenant. Everything would be calmer.

My life would be calmer.

So why the heck am I so afraid of losing that annoying, reckless, chain-smoking demon?

Am I going crazy?

Just the thought of a life without Kirishima woke up a brand-new hollow in my chest that I didn’t know existed. Wait a second… in my heart?

What the hell am I thinking?

I must be losing my marbles.

We finally reached the front gate. I must’ve zoned out the whole way home. When I looked ahead, I saw Kirishima crouched down to talk to Yaeka at her height — something everyone’s used to by now. But it still gets me every time. That demon, softening like that… It shouldn’t be endearing. And yet, it is.

I stared a little too long, I guess. And then — he looked at me. That stupid, calm smile was still on his lips.

My heart did this weird, flipping thing. I swear it felt like my organs rearranged themselves. And I’m pretty sure my face turned the shade of an overripe tomato from getting caught watching them.

To save myself from more humiliation, I made a quick excuse and practically sprinted to my room.

And again — AGAIN — I zoned out. My thoughts wouldn’t leave me alone: the panic, the relief, the weird emotional overload, the sight of him smiling like that…

What did it all mean?

I opened the door to my room, still drowning in those thoughts. And the moment I stepped inside, it hit me.

Like a goddamn freight train.

The realization.

The horror.

The undeniable truth.

What the actual hell?!

Am I FALLING for the DEMON of the Sakuragi family?!

No. No way. Impossible.

But my heart was already hammering in my chest like it knew better. I slid down the door, back against the wood, clutching at my hair like it might help squeeze the stupid out of my brain.

Oh shit… I’m screwed.

Chapter Text

As time passed, life in the Sakuragi family began to settle back into its usual rhythm. Errands were being run, meetings were scheduled, raids resumed—and the chaos that briefly shook the estate had mostly simmered down. Yaeka was back to her daily routine, and Kirishima had slipped smoothly into his role again, managing both babysitting duties and yakuza business like nothing had ever happened.

Everyone seemed to have gone back to normal.

Well—almost everyone.

Kei Sugihara, for one, was struggling to function like his usual self. On the surface, he was fulfilling his duties like before. But inside, his brain was spiraling.

Ever since Kirishima had returned, Sugihara found himself hyperaware of every move the man made. Every smirk, every stretch, every flick of his damn lighter felt like a personal attack on his sanity. Meetings, missions, lunch breaks—even something as harmless as tea—turned into episodes of emotional chaos, all thanks to the demon himself.

The worst part? Kirishima didn’t even seem to notice. He acted as if everything was fine—calm, collected, and utterly oblivious to the storm he was causing in Sugihara’s head.

Needless to say, Sugihara was hanging on by a thread.

At present, the two lieutenants sat side-by-side in one of the most important meetings of the week with a well-connected dealer. Everything about the meeting was routine—strict, formal, and important.

Except Sugihara could only think of one thing.

Tooru -bloody- Kirishima.

Sugihara’s POV

Why the hell am I sitting this close to him? Has he always looked like that during meetings? So damn serious and focused...

Wait—shit. Is he mad? Did the dealer say something off? No, wait. He always looks like that. Probably. I think?

More importantly… why does mad Kirishima kind of look… hot?

NO. No. no, Sugihara, FOCUS!

“Get It Together, Sugihara”

God, that smoky cigarette scent mixed with his cologne—how does he manage to smell this good after chain-smoking like a chimney? His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows again. Freaking show-off. Those tattoos shouldn’t look that good. I swear he's doing it on purpose.

And his hair—midnight blue and falling just slightly out of place… damn it, damn it, damn it.

Amidst this emotional disaster, the dealer said something. And apparently, I nodded absent-mindedly.

Kirishima’s sharp gaze cut toward me. “You sure about that?”

Wait… what did I just agree to?

Oh, fantastic. Looks like I’ve just committed to something completely unknown. Again.

Third Person

The dealer looked pleased, far too pleased, as the meeting wrapped up. Kirishima cast a sideways glance at Sugihara—unamused, but not surprised. He'd seen that glazed-over look before. Though he didn’t know the cause this time, he had a hunch it wasn’t good.

They left the meeting just before midnight, groggy and tense. The location was out of town, and their plan to head home had been derailed by the drawn-out conversation with the old geezer of a dealer. With nowhere else to go, the two men headed to a nearby inn, hoping for a quick fix.

Unfortunately, luck was not on Sugihara’s side. The inn had only two rooms available—but one of them had a broken bathroom pipe, leaving only one functioning shower.

Naturally, he expected Kirishima to tell him to deal with it himself. That would've been typical.

But instead—

“We’ll share,” Kirishima said flatly, not even looking up from his phone.

Sugihara blinked. “Wait, seriously?”

“Unless you wanna go camp out in the alley behind the convenience store.”

…Okay, fair point.

Sugihara followed Kirishima into the room with the working bathroom, half-expecting to be told to sleep on the floor.

“Bed’s big enough. Just don’t hog the blanket,” Kirishima added before disappearing into the bathroom.

Sugihara stared after him.

What the hell is happening today?

Fifteen minutes later, steam billowed from the bathroom like fog from hell. Kirishima stepped out shirtless, towel-drying his wet hair, his drenched dress shirt slung over one arm.

For a moment, Sugihara forgot how to breathe.

His eyes followed the water droplets trailing from Kirishima’s hair down his neck, past his collarbone, and along his torso like a damn shampoo commercial with a murder record. Kirishima looked up, blinking at him.

“What’s with your face? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Sugihara jumped up like a startled cat. “N-Nothing! I’m gonna shower now!”

He all but dove into the bathroom, slammed the door shut, and stood under the cold water for half an hour trying to suppress whatever emotional breakdown his body was cooking up.

When he finally emerged, dressed in the same clothes from earlier, he hoped—prayed—that Kirishima had at least put on a shirt.

But nope.

There he was. Shirtless. Sprawled across the bed like a damn Calvin Klein model.

Sugihara turned his head away so fast he nearly gave himself a whiplash.

As he climbed into the bed, keeping at least a foot of distance between them, his brain decided to betray him yet again.

Do I face the wall? What if he talks in his sleep? Wait—what if I talk in my sleep? What if I say something weird? What if he hears me breathing weird? Am I breathing weird? Oh God, I’m breathing weird—

Kirishima shifted, propping himself up slightly and leaning toward him.

“What’s with your face? It’s red as hell. You sick or something?”

Sugihara’s soul left his body as Kirishima reached over and pressed the back of his hand to Sugihara’s forehead.

OH GOD HE TOUCHED ME.

“I’m fine!” Sugihara squeaked, rolling over and facing the wall. “Tired. That’s all. Long day.”

Kirishima hummed in agreement and eventually settled down too. The room fell into silence, the only sound being the soft whirr of the heater.

Just as Sugihara’s nerves finally started to calm and his eyelids began to droop, he heard it—quiet, barely above a whisper, but unmistakably Kirishima’s voice.

“…Don’t look so tense. I’m not going anywhere again.”

Sugihara’s breath hitched. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

He just let the words settle in the air like a blanket—warm and heavy over the chaos in his chest.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

"Just apologize after you cause trouble and then get stronger so you can protect what's important to you! Who cares if you messed up once?! The Kirishima I know is a free spirit, but he's not irresponsible! You’re the only one who can do all that. So if you don’t come home now, I'll make you regret it!”

Kirishima's POV

Ever since that day at the park, Sugihara’s been acting weird. And I mean, really weird. Sure, he’s always been a little uptight, but this? This is a whole new level.

I’ve seen him trip over literally nothing, miss steps he’s walked a hundred times, and walk straight into a sliding door with the kind of force that should have sent him to another timeline. At first, it was funny as hell. I even snapped a picture once—he looked so dazed I thought he was seeing ghosts.

However, after a few days, I began to pay closer attention.

Sugihara’s usually sharp. Calculated. He doesn’t let things slip, especially not during work. But lately, he’s been zoning out mid-conversation, fumbling his words, and spacing out during operations. He’s messing up small stuff—not enough to be dangerous, but enough to make you look back at him twice.

Today, he even spilled tea on one of the client’s folders. That was a first.

During a meeting earlier this week, I leaned in and joked, “What’s up with you lately? Secret girlfriend?” I meant it light, teasing.

The guy exploded.

Red-faced, shouting, swearing like I’d just accused him of treason. It was the most animated I’ve seen him since that day back at the fireworks festival with Yeaka.

I laughed it off, like always. But the thing is—he’s still off.

And even I have to admit—I’m kinda worried.

Third Person

A few days later, during a late-night stakeout, Kirishima nudged Sugihara’s forehead with two fingers and grinned.

“You’ve been red-faced for three days now. You sure you don’t have a fever?”

Sugihara snapped.

“Can you stop being so casual all the time?!”

Not angry. Just… overwhelmed. Like something inside him finally overflowed.

That shut Kirishima up. Not because it stung—but because it was unexpected.

Later that night, the family went out to celebrate a successful deal. The bar buzzed with energy, laughter echoing against the walls. Kirishima was in his usual spot at the counter, drink in hand, chatting with the boss and Kanami like always.

But Sugihara?

He was on the other side of the room, joking with a few of the juniors, sipping at his drink and laughing like he didn’t have a care in the world.

For some reason, Kirishima kept glancing that way. And every time he looked, there was this small, odd feeling he couldn’t quite name.

It wasn’t like Sugihara had to sit next to him. Hell, they weren’t glued at the hip. But still… it felt weird. Off.

He took a longer sip of his sake.

Whatever. Doesn’t matter.

But even as he said that to himself, he found his thoughts wandering again.

He thought back to the park—how Sugihara had grabbed him by the collar like he was trying to stop the world from spinning. Back then, it seemed like nothing. Just panic. Relief, maybe. But now… now it echoed a little louder in his memory.

There was weight in Sugihara’s eyes. Not just fear. Something more.

When did he start looking at me like that?

He shook his head and tossed back the rest of his drink.

Kanami called his name, snapping him out of it. Kirishima turned to respond, laughing at the bartender’s comment, but part of him stayed unfocused. He glanced again at Sugihara.

This time, he wasn’t laughing. Just sitting, staring at his drink, like maybe his brain was catching up to everything too.

Kirishima suddenly didn’t feel like talking anymore.

And the weirdest part? He didn’t realize it, but somewhere deep in his chest, something itched. Something restless.

Something like jealousy.

He tried shaking it off again. He wasn’t the jealous type. Wasn’t the emotional type. But the feeling didn’t budge. Not even when he looked away.

The bar noise seemed to dull a little around him, and for the first time that evening, his grin didn’t come quite as easily.

Even Kanami noticed. “You okay, Tooru?”

“Yeah,” he replied with a chuckle, waving it off. “Just tired, I guess.”

But his eyes drifted back again, unconsciously. Just for a second.

The laughter around him carried on. Kirishima raised his glass to his lips, but the taste didn’t quite hit the same. His eyes lingered on Sugihara—laughing again now, his expression relaxed in a way that was both unfamiliar and strangely distant.

It wasn’t like he was angry. Just… unsettled. Like he missed something and didn’t know when it slipped out of reach.

The next morning, Kirishima leaned against the doorframe of Yaeka’s room, arms crossed casually as he watched the morning play out.

Sugihara was helping Yaeka with her school ribbons. They talked softly, smiling and laughing when the ribbon got tangled. It was relaxed. Natural. And somehow, new.

Back when Sugihara first got involved with babysitting, he treated Yaeka like a ticking bomb. Now? They were like siblings. Or something softer.

Kirishima found himself watching more than observing. And not just because it was cute.

He didn’t know what this shift meant. Not really.

Do I miss how things were? Or am I just not ready for what this might be?

As they headed out, walking Yaeka to school, the quiet hum of morning filled the air. Yaeka skipped slightly ahead of him, then slowed to walk beside Kirishima.

She tugged at his sleeve.

“Kirishima-oniichan,” she said, “why is Sugihara-oniichan acting funny around you lately?”

Kirishima blinked. Then chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Heh… good question.”

He smiled as they walked. But this time, the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

He wasn’t sure if it was amusement… or something else entirely.

And for the first time in a while, Tooru Kirishima didn’t have the answer.

But part of him wanted to find it.