Thanks to everyone for their kind reviews -- wow there were a lot last chapter, more than the previous two put together! Thank you all so much! Thanks also for being paitent with me, I've had an awful lot of work on recently, and I'll be going travelling in the summer so if this isn't finished by then (I don't know if it will) there'll be a 6 week hiatus minimum.

Anyway, less doom and gloom, more Shinkumi!


Yankumi stood in front of the mirror and turned one way, then the other. She twisted around and tried to look over her shoulder, but cracked her neck and let out a yelp of dismay.

It was date night.

Yes, date night with her once-student and now-technically-boyfriend Sawada Shin, and if she was unsure of herself before that concern was doubled in this state of dress. Shin had not seen her often out of her tracksuit – he certainly hadn't seen her 'out of her tracksuit' yet either, but she knew very well that she was playing it risky if she stayed in this choice of clothes.

Her top was not low cut on the breasts, or the stomach, and nor was it tight-fitting or in any other way scandalous. The problem was this; the back fell low. And when the back came low on shirts her back was visible underneath, and she happened to have a particularly visible tattoo on that part of her body now.

The places she was intending to go that night were all places she was known as 'Ojou' or not known at all, so a display of her background was no problem, but Shin being there was, because if there was one part of her that he could never, ever keep his hands off of it was her back. She knew it could've been worse, and a hand on the back of her shoulder was hardly comparable to being groped inappropriately, but as a young and hot-blooded youth Shin really did not need any more encouragement.

She didn't change, though.

She left her house by the back door and ran a few blocks through the dark streets, vaulting over a park bench on which Shin sat patiently with his arms crossed.

"Why do you insist we meet like this?" he said tiredly as she landed with a bounce beside him on the bench. "Your family know you're seeing me."

"Of course they don't!" she retorted. "I've kept this top secret and it's gonna stay that way for now... jeese, the trouble I'd get into if they knew I was..."

"Yankumi, I'm telling you; they know," he insisted blankly.

"You haven't told them have you?" she accused crossly.

"No," he sighed. "But they still know. It's very obvious, you know." She laughed this off boldly, scorning the very thought that her family could have seen through her sneaky methods, and Shin sighed into his hands. However, he perked up when he noticed the cut of her shirt.

"Oh?" he hummed warmly, reaching out to run his hand across the exposed band of tattooed skin. "You trying to get me hot or something?" he taunted, leaning close to her ear so that his breath tickled.

"Eeeesh! Don't think everything is about you," she rebutted. "I just happened to like this so-" she cut off as her mouth became otherwise occupied, Shin pulling her across and into a hungry kiss.

"It's working," he breathed hoarsely after he released her. "Suits you."

"Huuur," she moaned in incoherent and flustered response, snapping back to her senses and scrubbing her mouth guiltily. "Damn, don't surprise me like that," she grumbled, at which Shin slowly dragged her out of her seat and across his lap.

"So it's okay if I warn you?" he baited as he pulled her close, her legs dangled across his for a moment before he lifted her hips and settled her weight on him. "Like this?" he said softly, running one hand all the way up her back until his palm met skin. "I'm going to kiss you," he told her, just before she closed the distance between them herself and closed a fist in his jacket collar. It was never one-sided between them for long.

A little time slipped away making out, until Shin finally tore himself away from her as if he were ripping off a plaster.

"Are we going to go somewhere?" he questioned. "Or are you deliberately trying to make me drag you home straight away?"

"Eeeh cool it, hot shot!" she scolded, hopping up and straightening her clothes out as Shin rose with a slightly more pained expression.

"It's not healthy to toy with a young man like that," he groaned as he pulled his fingers through his head and took a few deep breaths of fresh air. "You're going to give me brain bleeds."

"Nose bleeds more like," she quipped. "Come on, lets go to a bar then."

"No bars," he replied simply.

"What? Why not?" she challenged, stepping close to him in an entirely unromantic way and giving him a cold stare.

"Because," he elucidated, "you get grabby when you're drunk and I refuse to let you get away with it. And," he added on the fly, "I don't want to be in a position where I have to turn you down tonight." He gave her a heated look.

Yankumi stormed off and began walking off in the direction of the main street, Shin jogging after her to catch up.

"You're getting awfully ahead of yourself, you know," she huffed. "We might be going out, but that doesn't mean I'm jumping into bed with you."

"Hah!" Shin snorted. "More like a crawl. You know it's been two months, right?"

"Two?" she gasped, shocked. "Has it really been that long?"

"Two tomorrow," he informed her. "Snails jump into bed. faster than you do."

"Hey!" she snapped, slapping him on the arm with a scowl. "Don't be like that."

"Oh come on, I only say it because I know you can take it," he retorted, half-grinning as he stepped closer and grabbed her hand in his. "You know the fact that you'll have me is more than enough." He squeezed his fingers around her palm, and Yankumi felt that rush in her chest that single-handedly beat down every objection she had to being with Shin.

"So what are we going to do?" she questioned again a little wearily.

"Whatever, I don't mind so long as there's no drinking," he responded. "I mean, one or two's fine, but I'm not pulling you home by your heels...." he shot her a knowing look, "again."

"Hey! You got the prize for that Sake-drinking contest, didn't you?" she fired off proudly.

"What the hell would I want with a bottle of 40 year old scotch?" he questioned acridly. "Not to mention you drank it last week."

"I shared it with Kyou and Wakamatsu," she defended. "I offered it to you but you weren't interested."

"I don't like whiskey," he reminded her; in fact, he was an occasional drinker at best. "You know that."

"You'll learn," she insisted. "You can't make the strongest bonds of brotherhood with your aniki unless you drink with them."

"I'm not making you my brother, sweetheart," he quipped, and Yankumi scowled, because while she objected to being called romantic, sappy nicknames like that, she couldn't stop him using them on the rare occasions he did – and they were usually more sarcastic than sickly.

As they walked down the street they veered to one side to move around two men walking shoulder to shoulder in the opposite direction, but the men stepped in front of them, and they were forced to stop.

"Well, well, well," one of the men began in a threatening tone, and Shin tightened his hand around Yankumi's in warning. "Doesn't this look like the celebrity couple of the Yakuza world?"

"Couple! Who's a couple!" Yakumi blasted, while Shin sighed into his free hand wearily.

"I keep telling you, everyone knows," he explained, but she would have none of it.

"The Young Master Red Lion and Kuroda's Ojou," the larger of the two men remarked. "Don't they look the cutest. Hey, Red Lion, what's it like bangin' the-"

"I'd shut up now," Shin interrupted. "You really don't want to finish that."

"What, you think I'm scared of an uppity little brat like you?" he barked, his eyes bulging as he attempted to stare Shin down.

"It ain't me you should be worried about pissing off," Shin commented, releasing Yankumi's hand and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Puuutthhh!" The man blew through his lips, flapping them like a horse in scorn before quickly raising a fist and trying to throw a punch at Shin, who remained completely still and did not even blink as the man hit the floor.

"See?" he said, his arms still crossed as Yankumi dusted off her fist and stepped back from the fallen heckler.

"Well that's just sad," the remaining fellow – a little shaken, but retaliating in all the wrong ways – said cruelly. "You have to get your girlfriend to fight your battles for you? Some Yondaime you'll-"

"He is NOT going to be the...!" Yankumi began to scream as she lunged towards him, but Shin unhooked one of his arms and held it across her chest, stopping her from hitting him. He said nothing, but gave her a look that seemed to call her off, so she relaxed and let her fists fall.

"Heh! Can't eve-" the last man began to mock, but never had time to finish his word before a powerful punch hit him right under the chin and sent his head flying back, knocking him out with a single brain-rattling punch. Now Shin rubbed the tingling sensation away from his own knuckles, and Yankumi picked up the man she had downed to throw on top of the Shin's victim.

"Don't do that," he berated as she stacked one guy on top of the other. "What do you think you're in a kung-fu movie or something?"

"It's neater this way," she explained perkily, walking past the two who now only took up half of the pavement. "See, we can get past much easier now." Shin groaned, but walked on before too many people took notice of what happened – this was a rough area anyway, so fights were common, but it wasn't good to be too recognised if they wanted a relatively uneventful night.

"Whatever you say," he grunted and then his eyes trailed behind them as they passed a tattoo parlour.

"I'm thinking about getting some work done," he remarked when she slowed down with him and stared quizzically after his line of sight.

"What?" she muddled, and then eventually realized what he meant. "Oh no," she said forebodingly. "Oh no you don't, I know what you're thinking about and..."

"Oh fuckin' relax will you?" he snapped, although it wasn't angrily, just a sharp comment to shut her up before she got ahead of herself – as was her habit to do. "I was only thinking of something on my arm, you know, half a sleeve or something. Oh," he added, "and you're not one to talk about not getting ink," he taunted, putting a hand on her shoulder and rubbing his fingers very conspicuously across her shoulderblade.

"You know it's not the same," she replied stiffly. "Not to mention you shouldn't go jumping into something like that. It's for life you know, and it's not just some accessory either. They're meant to-"

"To have meanings, yeah. I know," he finished for her. "I have been around you for the past three months or so, you know." He leant closer. "I'd hope you remember me from all those dates."

"Oh yeah, I remember," she sighed sarcastically, and then stopped suddenly outside a small place that served both food and drink. "Come on now, we've been wandering around long enough."

"You're the boss," he answered, and followed her inside. Then, some time later, some time much later, after Shin and Yankumi had eaten and drunk and talked and laughed; after he had walked her back home and kissed her goodnight and gone himself and stared at the ceiling until he sheer bored himself to sleep.

After the next day had passed, and he had gone to classes and studied the human mind and she had gone to school and nurtured them. After Shin had gone to a certain friend of the Kuroda family and spoken to him and bargained with him and then stripped off and sat in a chair for him.

It was perhaps a week or so later, when Yankumi noticed – a good few hours into the date – that Shin was wearing a bandage on his arm. She did do it by accident though, having slapped him lightly for some small offence, and he nearly jumped through the roof.

"Fucking hell, Yankumi!" he snarled as he went to grab his shoulder, and then stopped and bit his lip hard to try and distract himself. "Of all the places you could hit me!"

"What? Wait, what?" she questioned, confused and alarmed until she realized what that reaction was. Remembered what that reaction was.

"Oh you cheeky sonuvabitch!" she scorned. "You've started it, haven't you?"

"Started what?" he snapped, his temper no better off for the pain echoing in daggers across his skin.

"That sleeve you were talking about," she said lowly. "The tattoo."

"Yeah," he replied bluntly, his breath short and flustered. "I did say last time we were out."

"You said you were thinking about it," she recalled, a less than content frown twisting at her lips.

"And I decided I would," he led on from her statement as naturally as he could. "It's my goddam arm." He placed his palm against it tenderly and winced. "Damn, woman, what the hell was that about..." he groaned, then yelped again as she hit him in the other arm. "Now what the fuck was THAT for?" he yelled, and then found a finger pointed accusingly in his face.

"Don't you fuckin' swear at me!" she growled, the accent of her family (mostly Kyou, as her Grandpa was well spoken for a Yakuza) coming through strong.

"Don't swear at me if you're telling me not to swear at you, ya hypocrite!" he retorted viciously, and the finger remained pointed.

"I know it hurts, Shin, but don't yell at me like some goddam piece of trash, geddit?" she responded coldly, and although the anger was still present in his eyes, he bit his tongue for the time being. There was a time you did not scream in the face of Yamaguichi Kumiko, and this was one of those times – she did also have a point, he supposed.

"Jeese... I thought you'd stabbed me or something," he muttered darkly as he attempted to cool off, twisting his fingers tightly in his hair as he leant against the bar; neither of them seemed to notice the large circle of empty space around them, that had rapidly cleared in the course of their argument.

"If you'd told me you'd got it under there I wouldn't have hit you there," she pointed out. "I wasn't trying to hurt you."

"I didn't think it was that important," he murmured, and then after realizing that she would not buy that as an excuse even if he put ice cream on top and said please. "I... wanted to wait until it was done," he confessed. "That's what you did, didn't you?"

"Well... yeah..." she answered reluctantly. "But you know..."

"Don't say it was different," he said icily. "It's all ink, Yankumi." He still called her by that nickname, even now they had long since stopped being teacher and student and became something entirely different. It was hard to get out of habits, and it was the first nickname she'd been pleased to have. She was fond of it, and he knew it still meant a lot to her.

"Humph," she huffed, frowning into her drink. "I wish you'd said you were going to do it for sure," she said. "I just know you're trying to sneak off into into the Kuroda group sometimes. It all starts with one little bit of work, and you've got a full irezumi before I know it."

"Sneak off? They come after me," he retorted, and wasn't at all wrong. For someone with no official affiliation to the group, Shin was increasingly on the contact list any time there was an emergency that required the full network being briefed. Hell, sometimes he was called up when only the most important people were allowed to know. Sometimes Yankumi wasn't even there, she was at school, but Shin had far less classes and plenty of free time.

He was almost used to getting a call from someone from that house, informing him of a conflict and warning him that there might be rival groups after him – that he better come over to confront them with Kyou and the others, so that he wasn't ambushed off the street and out of their protection.

"They do not!" she insisted.

"Yankumi... Love," he pleaded tiredly, "they do. Kyou was begging me to come out to a toba tonight, but I said I was seeing you."

"WHAT?"she shrieked. "You said-"

"Relax," he interjected. "One, he knows we're going out already, and two, I didn't use your stupid name either, I just said I had plans."

"Well... going out to gambling houses isn't really the same as being properly involved with them, at least."

"He wanted to pay me back for being tangled up in the business with those Inukami freaks," Shin added, and tried not to laugh when her jaw dropped. The Inukami affair had involved some slightly bizarre okatu-turned-criminal sect of some kind kidnapping the dog Fuji and proclaiming him their new god. Yankumi had been at school when the plot was uncovered, and as the dog's closest (albeit unwillingly so) friend, Shin was called upon to help find and rescue the ugly thing.

"You were there for that?" she asked dumbly.

"I just said," he stated bluntly. "You know how that animal is obsessed with me. Kyou said it was a personal favour and all. Why he thought repayment would be going to a gambling house and winning him money was appropriate is beyond me, but still." Yankumi continued to stare at him blankly, until Shin finally got fed up and reached out to close her mouth for her.

"You'll start collecting flies in there," he remarked sceptically, and she swatted away his hand.

"Jeesh... I keep missing out on stuff now that you're not in my classroom every weekday," she murmured, and without realizing, settled her hand into his, outstretched on top of the bar.

"That can be fixed you know," he said cheekily, and she knew exactly what he was referring to.

"You're not moving in, or vice versa!" she said scandalously, and he sniggered at her carbon-copy reaction.

"Darn" he said in mock-disappointment. "Well, at the very least. If you come back with me tonight, maybe I'll let you see what's under the bandages," he hinted.

"I know what's under there," she replied distastefully. "Blood and scabs and pain, that's what. Believe me, I know. I think, seeing as you've already started, that I might just wait until you finish, eh?" Shin sighed and rolled his eyes. He wished he could say he missed it when she wasn't there in bed with him, but she wasn't there enough in the first place to miss. It was all still mostly want.

"Don't make that face," she chided, and he just gave her a dirty look. As if being punched in the tattoo wasn't bad enough. He surprised himself with his own patience for this woman, sometimes.

"So I'm taking you home as usual?" he said morosely.

"Gosh, you're so grumpy," she commented. "If I'd known you were going to be like this I would've let you go to a toba instead."

"Oh yeah? Then you should do something to cheer me up. You are meant to be my girlfriend after all."

"Oh as if that wasn't an obvious hint," she said dryly, but still lifted his hand in hers and brushed her lips against the back of his fingers. "You! Cheer up," she ordered, and her bossy tone made him smile, even if the order itself hadn't.

"I don't think that will do it," he jested, leaning closer, his movements full of suggestion. "It'll take a little more than-" she cut him off with a kiss, just like he'd been hoping, and he raised his hand to squeeze her shoulder, trailing his hand up her neck heavily and making her push back against him. Sometimes if he took a step back and looked at his situation he could hardly believe he'd got to this place, a situation where he could openly kiss Yankumi like this, to be in a relationship with her, to just have all this. Some luck he must have had.

"Come on, then," she announced after she ended the kiss, and ordered the two of them cups of Sake. "Alcohol is good for wounds."

"It's good for disinfecting them, Yankumi, not..." Shin pointed out, but she either didn't care or didn't want to listen, and instead pushed the cup his way.

"That's just what they want you to think," she teased, nudging him in the ribs playfully. "Drink up!" Shin looked at the glass, and then back at her. Why the hell not, he decided, it'd been a while since he'd let her get him drunk.

The next morning, Kumiko awoke to a pounding knock on her bedroom door.

"Oooooojjjoooouuuu!" Tetsuo droned. "Doooo you want breaaaaakfaaaast?"

"Go to hell!" she yelled irritably back through the. She had a hangover that had sirens attached to it and was in no mood for consciousness, let alone stomaching anything.

"And Shiiiiiiin?" Tetsuo added, the throbbing knock that beat up against the inside of her head continuing.

"What?" she squawked back, completely lost and getting crabbier by the second.

"Doooooooesss heeeeeeee waaant any?"

"He?You what? Huh... whuh!" she burbled, moving into a kind of squeak of surprise as she noticed that the pillow next to her actually had a head underneath it, and a body attached as well. One with a big patch of sticking plaster over the shoulder.

"Shin!" she gasped, grabbing him by the elbow and shaking him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"No," he mumbled insistently from underneath his pillow, his voice not loud enough to reach the hall outside. "Go away."

"Wake up!" Yankumi scolded, finally shaking him awake – much to his chargrain.

"Why can't you let me die in peace..." he groaned, peering out into the morning light and wincing. When the knock at the door came to his attention also – and he found it similarly irritating – it only took him a moment to think before he reached out for the nearest shoe, and threw it towards the door.

Why it was always shoes he threw was unknown at this point, but the sneaker smacked loudly into the sturdy panel door and then dropped to the floor.

"I'll take that as a no, then," Tetsuo sighed, and started to whistle as he turned his back and carried on down the hall.

"I'm never coming back here again," Shin groaned as he buried his head underneath his pillow again and rolled over. "This is why I like to go to my place."

"That's where you should be!" she insisted shrilly, and Shin blindly reached out behind him to fumble one of his hands over his face in an attempt to silence her.

"I have a hangover, you definitely have a one, and it's way too fuckin early in the morning," he explained as best he could from underneath a pillow. "Not not, Yankumi. Go back to sleep. Wake me when... when the world stops spinning like that," he murmured queasily, and then in spite of a continued effort to rouse him for a good minute, he would not budge, and eventually her own horrible state of mind got to her. Yankumi sighed and flopped down next to Shin, leaning her forehead against the curve of his back and breathing in his smell.

"That's better," he whispered into the pillow, sinking back into sleep until the world felt a little more tolerable.

And that was how Yankumi finally became convinced that her family had actually known she was seeing him all along; although not after she had 'told' them all first, and they had been somewhat confused until Shin explained.

It took a fortnight or so before the work Shin was having done on his arm was totally finished and healed up, and Yankumi insisted on coming around to see it as soon as she finished at Shirokin. Shin had been napping on his bed when she woke up at the door.

"It's open," he yelled, and sat up slowly as she came inside. "You know it's really not that much of a deal," he said dully as she scampered over to him. "I don't know why you made it seem like it was."

"Shin, I'm not stupid," she said sharply, her fuse short after a long day of troublesome kids and horrible test papers. "It's not 'just a tattoo', for one because I know it's the work of the same man who did Kyou's irezumi, and for two because even though I try to stop it as much as I can, you are becoming a part of my family. So don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you."

Shin raised his eyebrows at her and didn't say anything; his expression was answer enough.

"Very well," he eventually replied, and then without hesitation pulled off his T-shirt. He could have just lifted his sleeve, but that was far less fun. Especially when it still made Yankumi flush like it did.

"Oh," she gasped, half-raising a hand to her face and losing her way in the middle. "Wow."

The design stretched from the middle of Shin's bicep right up to his shoulder, and spread over and across it, fanning out across his shoulderblade at the back. It was mostly a single black pattern that wrapped around his arm and crawled up, but the lack of colour was made up for by the style. The strokes and lines of the network were a kind of fusion between traditional Japanese script and something far more tribal and aggressive.

It was almost awing, and Yankumi instantly understood why the artist who had created it was the favourite of her family,

There were no images in the design, which was probably because his arms were still going to change shape and he didn't want anything that would distort and stretch.

"Close your mouth," Shin taunted, and she snapped her jaw shut self-consciously. "I'll assume you don't hate it, then," he chuckled, and then jumped suddenly when she reached out to touch him, running her hand up from elbow to shoulder, feeling the faint ridges left by the tattooing process under her fingertips.

He shuddered, and quickly grabbed her around the waist with his other arm and spun her down onto the bed beside him.

"Don't touch me like that and not expect to get it back," he warned her salaciously, slipping a hand underneath her tracksuit and stroking it up her spine as far as he could.

He had expected her to say something in response, so it was quite a surprise when her grip simply tightened around his arm and she kissed him fiercely. His first thought was a similar wow to the one she had uttered only minutes earlier – if he'd known a little bit of ink would do this to her he would've done it a long time ago.

Then again, if he thought about it – which he wasn't much, because he really was far more interested in the very inviting and willing woman underneath him – this was a bit like that time he had been talked into wearing a fundoshi. One look at him, even back then when he was a great deal lighter, and she had gone into a near-trance for a good half hour.

It was almost laughable, it occurred to him as he moved a knee between her legs and she hooked one around his waist and oh, that was very interesting – it occurred to him that in spite of all her huffing and puffing about not becoming a Yakuza and 'ruining his life', that was exactly what turned Yankumi on.

And he was more than happy to oblige her.


And we all know what happens next ;P

Decided not to go into writing any actual outright lemons in this. I'd rather not focus on sexsexsex in this fic. I've written Shinkumi smut before, and I've another plot bunny one that will probably wriggle its way out some time as a oneshot, but this story isn't going to be one of those where once they get their rocks off every half chapter is just one big lemon. I'd much rather write dialouge.

Anyway, leave a review please, you all did SO WELL last chapter I'm just tickled pink.