I'm a hero after all (Alltake)
10
Inside the school, Takemichi was chatting with Akkun during lunch break. Yamagishi and Makoto had gone to the cafeteria what felt like forever ago, leaving the two of them alone in the classroom. Takuya hadn't come today — he had a fever, and his parents were both busy with work, so he was home alone.
Takemichi intended to visit him later. Maybe cook something nice. Takuya always got emotional when people took care of him, the big softie.
"Takemichi!!"
SMACK.
"Ouch!" Takemichi rubbed his head where Akkun had just slapped him. "What was that for?!"
"You weren't paying attention to what I was saying!" Akkun crossed his arms, genuinely worried. "Are you okay? You came to school today with so many new bruises. Like, MORE bruises than yesterday. What happened?"
"Oh." Takemichi blinked. "I, uh... ran from a dog. And fell. Multiple times. The dog was very persistent."
Akkun stared at him.
"Hmm."
"It's true!"
"It's obviously not true."
"It could be true!"
"Takemichi, we've been friends since we were kids. I know when you're lying." Akkun's expression softened. "Look, if something's going on, you can tell me. I won't judge."
Takemichi opened his mouth to respond — to say something, anything, to reassure his friend —
DOOM!
The classroom door slammed open, bouncing off the wall with enough force to rattle the windows.
"WE'RE BACK!"
Yamagishi and Makoto stood in the doorway, triumphantly holding up bags of food like they'd conquered a great enemy.
Akkun sighed. "What took you so long? You've been gone for almost half an hour."
Makoto flopped into his seat dramatically. "There's a new senior in the third year! Some transfer student! And he's apparently SUPER handsome, so ALL the girls were gathered around him in the cafeteria, making the line SO long!"
"Yeah!" Yamagishi added, dropping into his own chair. "And get this — he has a huge scary tiger tattoo on his neck! Like, HUGE! And his hair is black and yellow striped, so he looks like a — "
" — banana?" Makoto offered.
"A BANANA! Yes! He looks like a banana!"
They both cracked up, laughing at their own joke.
Takemichi's heart stopped.
Third year?
Tiger tattoo?
Banana hair?
Kazutora.
Hanemiya Kazutora.
How could Takemichi have forgotten? After being released from the juvenile rehabilitation center, Kazutora had transferred to this school. This very school. At this very time.
And if Takemichi didn't act fast, Kisaki would get to him first. Would twist his pain, his guilt, his fractured mind into a weapon. Would use him to destroy everything Takemichi was trying to build.
Would make him kill Baji again.
"I'm going to the cafeteria!" Takemichi was already on his feet, already moving. "You guys eat first!"
"Wait — !" Akkun reached for him, but Takemichi was already through the door, sprinting down the hallway.
Akkun's hand dropped.
"...Okay then."
Makoto and Yamagishi exchanged glances.
"Should we follow him?" Makoto asked.
Akkun thought about it. Then he grabbed a rice ball from Makoto's bag and took a bite.
"Let's just eat."
"Yeah," Yamagishi agreed, already reaching for food. "He'll come back eventually."
"He always does," Makoto added.
And so they ate, blissfully unaware of the chaos their friend was about to dive into.
Takemichi ran.
His lungs burned. His legs ached. The bruises from yesterday's fight protested every step. But he didn't stop, didn't slow, didn't even think about stopping.
Kazutora. Kazutora. Kazutora.
He burst into the cafeteria, eyes scanning frantically —
And there he was.
Hanemiya Kazutora.
Black and yellow hair, striped like a tiger. A massive tiger tattoo curling up the side of his neck. He was sitting at a table surrounded by a swarm of girls, all of them fluttering and giggling and trying to get his attention.
"— so handsome!"
"Where did you transfer from?"
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
"What's your type?"
Kazutora's expression was a study in discomfort. His jaw was tight, his eyes darting around for escape, his hands clenched on the table. He looked like a trapped animal.
This is bad, Takemichi thought. *He's overwhelmed. He's going to — *
Kazutora raised his hand. Not to wave, not to greet — to strike. His fingers curled into a fist, ready to slap away the nearest girl who was leaning too close, touching his arm, ignoring every sign that he wanted space.
Takemichi moved.
He dove through the crowd, grabbed Kazutora's wrist, and yanked.
Kazutora stumbled, pulled from his seat, and suddenly he was running — being dragged by a stranger through the cafeteria, past stunned students, out the door, down the hallway, through a maze of corridors, until finally they burst outside into the warm afternoon air.
They stopped under a small sakura tree behind the school, away from prying eyes.
Kazutora wrenched his hand free, chest heaving.
"What the — " He raised his fist, ready to punch whoever had dared to grab him. "Do you have a death wish?! I'll kill — "
His words died.
Blue eyes.
The person standing before him had the most striking blue eyes Kazutora had ever seen. Like the ocean. Like the sky. Like something pure and untouchable. And they were looking at him with an expression that made Kazutora's chest feel strange — soft and worried and almost... sad?
Like an abandoned kitten wanting to be brought home.
Kazutora had a weakness for cute things. Always had. And this person? This person was dangerously cute.
"You..." Kazutora lowered his fist, confused. "Why did you grab me?"
The boy tilted his head, blond hair catching the sunlight. He hummed thoughtfully, then seemed to realize something and blushed.
"I saw you were uncomfortable with all those girls," he said, voice soft. "They weren't listening to you, weren't giving you space. So I thought I'd help you escape."
Kazutora stared.
That was... not what he expected.
Most people either feared him or wanted something from him. They didn't help him. They didn't notice when he was uncomfortable. They certainly didn't drag him away from a crowd just because he looked like he needed saving.
"Oh."
Silence fell between them.
Then the boy's eyes went wide, and he looked down at their hands — they were still holding hands. Kazutora hadn't even noticed.
"AH! I-I'm sorry!" The boy dropped his hand like it was on fire, face turning crimson. "I didn't realize I was still holding on! That was so rude of me! I just — I got so focused on getting you out that I forgot to — I'm really sorry!"
He bowed repeatedly, apologizing over and over.
Kazutora watched him, something warm flickering in his chest.
I wouldn't actually mind though, he thought. But the words stuck in his throat, refusing to come out.
Instead, he just stood there, watching this strange, flustered, cute boy apologize for saving him.
They ended up walking around the school grounds, away from the crowds.
"So..." the boy said, finally calming down. "What's your name? I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself first. That was really rude of me."
He laughed sheepishly, scratching his cheek.
"My name is Hanagaki Takemichi! It's a pleasure to meet you!"
He smiled — this huge, genuine, radiant smile that made his blue eyes crinkle at the corners.
Kazutora's heart did something weird.
"Kazutora," he heard himself say. "Hanemiya Kazutora. That's my name."
Takemichi's smile somehow got even brighter.
"Kazutora! That's a cool name! Very tiger-like!" He giggled. "It suits you!"
Kazutora blinked.
Was being friends with him really that exciting?
"So why did you transfer here, Kazutora?" Takemichi asked, still beaming.
"Just call me Kazutora. Or Tora." Kazutora scratched his neck, suddenly shy. "And I... I was in a rehabilitation center. Got released recently. Transferring here was part of the... you know. Reintegration thing."
He waited for the reaction. The flinch. The fear. The disgust.
It didn't come.
Takemichi just nodded, face open and curious. "Oh! That makes sense. Must be tough, starting over at a new school."
Kazutora stared at him. "You're not... bothered?"
"Bothered by what?"
"That I was in juvie."
Takemichi tilted his head. "Why would I be bothered? You're here now. That's what matters, right?"
No one had ever said that to him before.
Kazutora didn't know what to do with the warmth spreading through his chest.
They sat under the sakura tree, side by side.
The afternoon sun was warm, filtering through the leaves and casting dappled shadows on the grass. It was peaceful. Quiet. The kind of peace Kazutora hadn't felt in years.
"Why were you in the rehabilitation center?" Takemichi asked gently. Not prying — just asking. Like it was any normal question.
Kazutora was quiet for a long moment.
Then, slowly, he spoke.
"I... I killed someone."
He felt Takemichi still beside him. Braced for the horror, the recoil, the running.
But Takemichi just waited. Listening. Present.
Kazutora's throat tightened.
"I was in a gang," he continued, voice barely above a whisper. "With my friends. We were... we were family, you know? The first real family I ever had."
He stared at his hands — the hands that had committed murder.
"My home life was... bad. Really bad. My parents fought all the time. They'd make me choose sides. 'Who do you want to live with?' 'Who do you love more?'" He laughed bitterly. "I was a kid. I didn't know how to answer. I just knew that no matter who I chose, someone would hate me."
Takemichi's hand twitched, like he wanted to reach out but wasn't sure if he should.
"But then I found them. My friends. Mikey, Draken, Baji, Mitsuya, Pah-chin. We started Toman together. And for the first time, I felt like I belonged."
His voice cracked.
"There was this one friend. My best friend. He had an older brother — the coolest guy ever. He protected us, looked out for us, treated us like we mattered. I loved him. We all did."
Takemichi was very still.
"One day, my friend mentioned how much he wanted a motorcycle for his birthday. A specific model. So me and another friend — we decided to steal it for him. Break into the shop, take it, give it to him as a gift."
Kazutora's hands shook.
"But the shop owner caught us. And I panicked. There was this bolt cutter in my hand, and I just... I just swung. I didn't mean to — I didn't want to — "
Tears were falling now, silent and hot.
"When I realized who it was... it was too late. I had killed him. I had killed my best friend's brother. The one person who had ever shown me kindness."
He couldn't look at Takemichi. Couldn't bear to see the horror in those blue eyes.
"And now I can't stop thinking about it. About him. About how if it wasn't for Mikey's birthday, none of this would have happened. If he didn't want that stupid motorcycle, Shinichiro would still be alive. It's Mikey's fault. It's all Mikey's fault."
Silence.
Long, heavy silence.
Then, softly:
"That sounds really hard."
Kazutora's head snapped up.
Takemichi was looking at him with those ocean-blue eyes, and there was no horror there. No disgust. No fear. Just... understanding. And sadness. And something almost like recognition.
"You've been carrying this alone for so long," Takemichi continued gently. "That must be exhausting."
Kazutora couldn't speak.
"I'm not going to pretend I understand what you've been through," Takemichi said. "I don't. But I do know that carrying guilt like that... it eats you alive. Makes you believe things that aren't true."
"Like what?"
"Like it being Mikey's fault." Takemichi's voice was firm but kind. "You were a kid. You panicked. You didn't mean to hurt anyone. That's not Mikey's fault. That's not anyone's fault. It's just... tragedy. And tragedy doesn't need someone to blame."
Kazutora's breath caught.
"You don't have to carry this alone anymore," Takemichi said. "If you want... I can carry some of it with you."
The tears came harder.
No one had ever offered that before. No one had ever looked at his darkest moment and said "I'll help you carry it."
"You don't even know me," Kazutora whispered.
"I know enough." Takemichi smiled — that same sunshine smile. "I know you're hurting. I know you're trying. And I know that anyone who loved Shinichiro as much as you clearly did can't be all bad."
Kazutora broke.
He didn't sob — he couldn't, not here, not yet — but the tears kept falling, and he couldn't stop them, and Takemichi just sat there beside him, not touching, not pushing, just... present.
Present in a way no one had ever been before.
They stayed under that tree for a long time.
Eventually, the tears stopped. The sun shifted. And slowly, hesitantly, they started talking again. About nothing important. About everything important. About school and food and stupid things and serious things.
And somewhere in the middle of it, Takemichi said something that made Kazutora laugh.
A real laugh. The first one in years.
He looked at Takemichi — at this strange, kind, brave boy with the ocean eyes — and felt something shift inside him.
Maybe, he thought. Maybe not everyone will hate me.
"Let's play a game!" Takemichi suggested, jumping up.
"A game?"
"Yeah! Like... tag! Or hide and seek! Something fun!"
Kazutora stared at him. "You want to play tag. With me. A convicted killer."
"You're not a convicted killer, you're a kid who made a mistake. Now come on!" Takemichi grabbed his hand and pulled him up. "I'm IT!"
And then he was running, laughing, blond hair flying behind him.
Kazutora stood frozen for a moment.
Then, slowly, he smiled.
And ran after him.
They played until they were breathless, until the sun dipped lower in the sky, until the world felt lighter than it had in years.
Kazutora tackled Takemichi into the grass, both of them laughing, and for one perfect moment, he forgot about everything.
Forgot about the guilt. The pain. The darkness.
There was just this. Just now. Just Takemichi's laughter in his ears and the warmth of the sun on his skin.
"You're IT!" Takemichi gasped, trying to scramble away.
"You're CHEATING!"
"I'm WINNING!"
"You're — "
"YOU TWO!"
They froze.
A teacher stood at the edge of the field, arms crossed, expression furious.
"Class is in session! What do you think you're doing?!"
Takemichi and Kazutora exchanged glances.
"Uh oh," Takemichi whispered.
"Run?" Kazutora suggested.
"Too late."
Detention was boring.
Two hours of sitting in an empty classroom, staring at the walls, while a grumpy teacher occasionally glared at them.
But somehow, with Takemichi there, even detention wasn't so bad.
They passed notes.
Kazutora: This is your fault.
Takemichi: MY fault?! YOU'RE the one who tackled me!
Kazutora: You tagged me first.
Takemichi: That's how TAG works!
Kazutora: I'm blaming you anyway.
Takemichi: (◕‿◕)
Kazutora: What is that even supposed to be?
Takemichi: It's my face. Happy face.
Kazutora: Your face doesn't look like that.
Takemichi: How do you know? You just met me.
Kazutora: ...Fair point.
Takemichi: ╰(°▽°)╯
Kazutora: Okay what is THAT.
Takemichi: My happy dance!
Kazutora: You're weird.
Takemichi: You like it.
Kazutora stared at the note.
He did like it. He liked it a lot.
He didn't write that down.
When detention finally ended, the sun was setting.
They walked out together, pausing at the school gate.
"Hey," Kazutora said, not quite meeting Takemichi's eyes. "Um. Thanks. For today. For... you know."
"For playing tag and getting us detention?" Takemichi grinned.
"For... listening. For not running away." Kazutora's voice was rough. "For treating me like a normal person."
Takemichi's expression softened.
"You are a normal person, Kazutora. You're just a normal person who went through something terrible. That doesn't make you a monster."
Kazutora's throat tightened.
"Here." Takemichi pulled out his phone. "Give me your number. We should hang out again. Without the detention this time."
Kazutora blinked. "You... want my number?"
"Yeah! So we can text! And plan stuff! And send each other memes!"
"I don't know what memes are."
"They're these funny pictures online! I'll show you!"
Kazutora slowly pulled out his phone.
They exchanged numbers.
Takemichi saved Kazutora's contact with a tiger emoji next to his name. Kazutora stared at Takemichi's contact — just "Michi" — and felt something warm bloom in his chest.
"Text me later!" Takemichi waved, already walking away. "Goodnight, Tora!"
"Goodnight," Kazutora whispered to the empty street.
He looked at his phone.
Michi: ╰(°▽°)╯
Michi: Made it home safe! You??
Tiger 🐯: Yeah. Home.
Michi: Good! Sleep well! Tomorrow's another day!
Tiger 🐯: You too.
Tiger 🐯: Michi?
Michi: Yeah?
Tiger 🐯: Thanks. For real.
Michi: Always, Tora ♡
Kazutora stared at the heart for a long time.
Then he smiled — a real smile, small and fragile but real — and went inside.
That night, Takemichi wrote in his diary.
July 11, 2005
Today I met Kazutora.
Hanemiya Kazutora. The boy who killed Shinichiro. The boy who blames Mikey. The boy who will eventually kill Baji if I don't do something.
He told me his story. Not all of it — he changed names, made it sound like a fairy tale. But I knew. I knew what he was really saying.
He's in so much pain. So much guilt. And no one has ever helped him carry it.
I told him I would.
I don't know if that was the right thing to say. I don't know if I CAN help him carry it. But I had to try. He deserves someone trying.
We played tag. We got detention. We exchanged numbers.
He smiled. Actually smiled. And for a moment, he looked like a normal kid.
I'm going to save him. I have to.
For Baji. For Mikey. For Kazutora himself.
He deserves a future where he isn't consumed by guilt.
He deserves to be happy.
— Takemichi
He set down his pen and checked his phone.
Tiger 🐯: Hey.
Tiger 🐯: You awake?
Michi: Always for you ╰(°▽°)╯
Tiger 🐯: You're so weird.
Tiger 🐯: I like it.
Tiger 🐯: Goodnight, Michi.
Michi: Goodnight, Tora. Sweet dreams ♡
Takemichi smiled and closed his eyes.
One more person to save.
One more step forward.
Across the city, Kazutora stared at his phone until the screen went dark.
Sweet dreams.
For the first time in years, he thought maybe — just maybe — he could have them.
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