Wild & Wicked Dream


Homura only wants her sister to be happy. She only wants her brother-in-law to not get offed and send said sister into crazy misery. And so, Homura dies, but in dying she's given a task. Protect and save Baji in exchange for her preferred outcome. Sounds like a fair trade, right? Only, she has one question: Who the #$% is Baji? And why is he always in some $%^*?


Chapter 1: Mission Statement

The first thing I do is take it in. Two years, to me, feels like forever ago. Two years ago, this building with its firelight chandelier, black glossy floors and white linen lined tables was a shell of itself. There were no customers waiting, a line wrapping down the street while Yoshene stood at the door in all black allowing a trickle of people in at a time. The smell of spice and garlic and popping heat could be imagined—sure—but the illusion would so easily disappear the second the stagnant air was disrupted, and the smell of mold and wet dog filled the senses in its stead. But even then, I felt it. Even then, I knew.

Yuna thought I was crazy. Ida thought I would do better at a different building, something not so large and sprawling.

I ignored them both, and with a little financing from a friend, I was able to turn my vision into something a little less like soiled dog and a little more into a palace—a place with an indoor koi pond and water running down the pillars into the floors to be recycled up again and again. A place with a huge kitchen, bustling content staff, and an office that overlooked it all. A mess of miracle.

A miracle I owed to Mr. Faithful himself, the little idiot idling at the entrance, adjusting his hair in the long-gilded mirrors there at the top of the mezzanine a bouquet of blush pink roses gripped in his right hand. Even from my place down here, settled against the salt and pepper bar, I could see him dressed to the nine in a grey pinstripe suit a black tie, also stripped complimented him well. A three piece too!

How fancy.

He straightens up before he happens to turn his head to the right and sees me. A grin cracks his mouth open, his left ear glimmering with a single silver hoop. I've always liked his haircut, despite not always liking him, the jet shiny black of his hair. His luminescent jade green eyes excited and somewhat still somber, still in mourning of whatever past he'd left behind.

At least, that's how Yuna described him. But she could make anyone sound romantic, sound deeper than their reality. That's why I didn't shake his hand when we first met, I didn't care to remember his name. I called him Chiki and Chiara more than I called him Chifuyu. I called him trouble and fucked up and a thug dressed in a good suit.

But…that didn't stop Yuna from falling in love with him. And eventually, that didn't stop me from calling him my brother, my best friend. Even if it almost did.

"Yo!" I cup my hands around my mouth as I shout, hopping onto the bar and leaning back onto my arms. "Those better not be for me, Asshole!"

He laughed, light and easy, and jogged down the long curving steps eager to get down to me. "I guess that means, Yuna's not here?"

"Yuna's still at that doctor's office of hers. Dr. Nakamura wanted to give her extra lessons." I wag my eyebrows at him and he bristles, sucking his teeth.

"Do I need to talk to him?" he asks, joining me against the bar. "And by talk, I mean bash his face in."

I snort, "No, Asshole. Yuna can handle herself. I taught my little sister well. No old man is going to get the best of her. She'd tell you if she was in trouble. Yuna may be brave, but she's not stupid. She'd tell me, so I'd beat his ass and then I'd tell you so you could beat his ass. Either way, someone is kicking his ass."

Chifuyu shakes his head, gently placing the flowers between us, "I've never had a conversation with you that didn't end with you using the word 'ass' at least eight times."

"How many am I on now?"

Chifuyu did a few mental calculations. "Five."

"Three more then." I say, "I guess I gotta sneak those in before you head off. Oh! Speaking of asses—" I reach over and punch him hard on the arm.

He winces, snatching back from me. "What the hell, Homura?"

"Ask me what happened on my date last night, genius. Go on. Ask me."

Chifuyu's eyes scour my face for a moment, and then pulls back with a smile. "Shit! I forgot. How did that go?"

I blink. Using my left hand this time, I punch him again, "How do you think, Asshole? Your dumbass friend ditched me with the bill."

Chifuyu's head dropped into the crook of his neck. "Damn. Really? How? What happened?"

Throwing my hand in the air, I pull my legs beneath me, settling on my knees. "Hell if I know, I was being my usual, charming self—"

"Obviously," he cuts in with a smirk, but I shoot him a warning look and he quiets with a grin.

"And we were talking and he just gets all wide-eyed and runs out like the goddamn devil was chasing him."

Chifuyu pulled at his hair, and then looked at me. "What did you say?"

My lip curled over my teeth, "Jerkoff, why do you think I had to say something to him?"

"Did you?" he asks, eyebrow raised, his hair slightly curtaining his eyes.

"Well, I was just saying how my best friend is a total bitch and that I would definitely stab her ass in the back when I got the chance, but it was too bad I loved her Lolz." I say, and then really laugh, because it was funny? Hell, at least to me it was.

Chifuyu's face, however, is completely white when I look at him. I slap his arm, and then nudge him softly, "Hey, are you okay?"

Clearing his throat, he begins, "You know how I told you about that friend of mine who died twelve years ago?"

"Yes?"

"…The one who was stabbed in the back?"

It takes a moment. I stare at Chifuyu. He stares back emphatically. I take a deep, deep breath. When I release it, I finally find the right words. "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, CHIFUYU? How dare you set me up with a guy who, literally, stabbed his best fucking friend in the back! And then, not tell me about it. What the fuck is your glitch? I have a messed up sense of humor. You had to know I'd say some pretty messed up shit and you still set us up? What the fuck?"

Chifuyu slapped a hand over his face, "I totally spaced. I thought it would work."

"You thought the fuck wrong. What the hell?" I say. My mind goes back to those wide yellowish eyes of his, the tears building at the edges, his mouth falling open. I shut my eyes against it. "Now I feel like a dick."

He places a hand on my shoulder, consoling, "Let me talk to him—"

"No," I say, waving him off. "I don't think it'll work. He was never my type anyway. He has too much of delicate face—kinda like you. I like harsher look, personally. And the dyed hair, just doesn't do it for me."

He hums, "Too bad. He told me he thought you were beautiful."

"Yeah, well. We can't always get what we want." I tell him, patting my knees. "Anyway, so I hope you know you owe me money—"

"Aren't I good for it?" He grinned.

I hold up a hand, "And I need to know when you'll be getting back, because I'm tired of Yuna complaining about missing you. You really need to work on your shit, Chifuyu. Aren't you in some shady business stuff? Don't you make your own schedule?"

Instead of a laugh, I get his eyes dropping down to his hands, a pensive look on his face, "There's a few things I need to handle first," he says, "But I'll be home as soon as I can."

"Yeah, well. Hurry up. I'm sick of her ass whining about missing you and you guys sexting or whatever the hell it is you do—"

"We don't do that!" He exclaims, turning red.

I shrug, "Hey, this is a no judgement zone. We all need to get laid. I thought I was going to get laid yesterday, but, hey, shit happens."

"I'm sorry okay." He says, finally, laughing, "I swear I won't try to set you up again."

"Please don't or your best friend privileges are officially revoked," I sock him in the shoulder, "Plus, I'll be confiscating your fiancé. Speaking of, did you invite that dickhead friend of yours to the wedding?"

Chifuyu took a breath, shaking his head, "I don't think it would be a good idea."

I still, pressing my lips together, "Why?"

His green eyes flicker up to meet mine. "You know why."

Boy did I.

After all, it's not everyday your little sister decides to marry a literal gangster. My fingers tap against the bar, the water from the koi pond splashing as the fish swam. "What's this meeting about?"

I gesture to his outfit, he and I both know its for my sister yes, but also for his 'organization'.

He bites his lip. "I'm working on some things. I promise I'll tell you more if I can…I just, can't risk you two. I can't afford to. You're all I have."

Embarrassment, buries me beneath my bluster and all sassiness falls to the ground. "Just…be careful, okay? I'm not going to let my sister, bury you. I won't allow it."

His eyes strike like a match in the darkness, the green of his eyes flickers like a flame right before the wind takes it out. "I got it."


When I get the call, I can't move. I can't think. I don't know how to wrap my arms around my sister as she sprawls on the ground at my feet, heaving, her cries muted to me. I'm wooden, and awkward. I fumble to the floor and somehow, wiggle her into my grip. My ears are busted. There's nothing save for a single ringing. The sound of a gunshot. The imagine of it piercing his skull, shattering through bone and tearing through thick flesh.

My mind sees it as if I was there. It plays on repeat until I'm drowning in my own saliva and heavy, salty tears.

I can't hear her stop crying. I think she does, though I can't be sure as my mom pulls me to my feet, her serene face trying not to wince as she holds us close.

She mentions something about a shower? To be honest, I can't imagine what water feels like. I can't see myself anywhere other than the foyer. I can't say how long we sat there. Just that we did.

My father mouths to me and I squint. He's always been tall. African-American and built like a brick house, immovable from his days in the marines. My mother is slender and petite, he black hair, falling prettily over her shoulders, her skin ivory a contrast to his chocolate complexion. He's something of a shadow as he towers, moving frantic and wild. His brown eyes focus on mine and I register a single word.

"Gone."

"Gone?" I croak, and heat shoots up my throat. Panic laps at my mind, cracking through the fog like a hammer through glass. "Where is she?"

My father's eyes are full of water, snot dripping down his chin. "She ran off, yelling about a Takemichi? Who's Takemichi?"

"Shit." I fumble to my feet, legs unsteady, and I finally register how ripe I am. I'm smelly and sick with it, my shirt coated in a thick film of what I know to be my sister's puke. I think I remember her losing it on me at some point but my mind is still in shambles, trying to piece the moments together.

We weren't built to grieve. Didn't know how. Still don't. what I can do is chase. That's the only thing I could do now. Run. Chase.

I take off at a sprint, flinging myself around my mother to grab at my car keys that's usually by the door—no dice.

Yuna.

She took them, and sprinted off after some bastard she barely knew. Some gang guy who'd give her nothing but trouble if she showed up to his house now. I had to get to her first. I ran out the door, cutting across the lawn and hopping over my neighbors bushes and flinging myself over their small fence.

It occurred to me that I didn't know where to run exactly, just that I knew the building Chifuyu like to frequent. It was a sprawling thing, tall and rich and built on blood-money. Not that I could complain, Chifuyu built my whole fucking restaurant on the shit.

I ran, and ran, until the haze was creeping back up on my again. I ran until I caught notice of a flower petal skirt and jumped out into the road. The honk of a horn, blasted through my ears. I saw bright, burning light and then—

"I MUST SAVE BAJI!"

Groggily, afloat in the darkness, I can see and feel nothing.

"SAVE BAJI!"

"SAVE BAJI!"

My lips work to move but can't. my eyes are black, and the only words I know are desperate pleas. Cries shot through my mind and sewn into my very soul.

"SAVE BAJI!"

I couldn't say for sure where the voice came from, or if I knew or didn't know it. I just could only cling, could only grapple toward it with the hopes that it could rend me from this darkness, send me back to my sister. Help me find Yuna!

The voice is demanding, breaking. I hear a rush of footsteps. Something like a crowd. The sound of yelling, the crash of fists against bone. It sounded like a brawl was taking place just outside the darkness, like there was a door somewhere and I had but to open it to see it.

"SAVE BAJI!"

Is that your answer, universe? A trade for a trade? This Baji person, for my sister, for her happiness? For her Chifuyu? For her future? It was enough. More than a fair trade. I was the winner here. They had to know it! They had to! But—

"SAVE BAJI!"

The desperate, shouting voice did not care. It did not care that the trade was pulled up in my favor. It did not know that I would save the devil himself if it meant saving her from herself. From everything. Fine. I'll do it. I'll save Baji.

And, just like that I blinked and found myself staring right at her.

I struggled for a moment, looked down at my chest—what the? My hands flew to my breasts. Did they shrink while I was knocked out?

My hands dropped my boobs and moved to my ears and then—no, way. I awed, finding my cartilage pierced, and decorated with the stars I'd wear back in middle school. Golden hoops hung from both ears. My hair, wheat colored and long, hitting my back as I walked toward my sister.

She mirrored me, her delicate brow raised, full mouth curled up in mirthful amusement. Her hair was in deliberate curls, thick over her shoulders and slicked back from her princess face, onyx eyes glowing. Just like I remember, she wore rhinestones at her tear ducts and a star pattern identical on each side of her face. her honey skin glowed with a touch of glitter, the stuff that irritated mine.

"Are you okay?" She asks me, stepping forward to press her soft, callous less hands against my forehead. "You are a little warm. Do you want to stay home today?"

"What's happening today?" I ask, not believing my own eyes. Distrusting the slight difference in my voice.

She looked left to right, as if looking for a hidden camera, "School." She says, and gestures down to the identical outfit we wore. Skirt with black blazer and red tie. Well, almost identical. She wore silk stockings and I rocked black leg warmers that stopped just beneath my knee. My shirt was untucked. Hers was not.

"School." I repeat, glancing down at her fourteen year old face and wanting to kiss her pretty little forehead. "Right."

She nods, still giving me an uneasy look. "Yes…that's…that's what I said." She blinks, and then manages a giggle, "You sure, you're okay? You're being very weird today."

I break out in a laugh, surprising myself. "I'm just so happy." I say, hooking my arm around hers. "I just had a bad dream…that's all."

"What was it about?" She asks, eager, her eyes bright. If I remembered correctly, Yuna used to keep a journal of her dreams and nightmares and would spend hours puzzling them out coarse correcting.

I let her lead me down the stairs, her pulling me along as I take in our old, childhood home. Dad's not home, but mom is talking on the phone with her sister, laughing about something. She waves to us, her hair cut into a stylish bob, her legs swept beneath her on the couch.

Yuna pulls us to the front door and I sigh in relief.

Just a dream. I think. But, even as I say that, a name plays at the edge of my mind. .

Only…who the fuck is Baji?


Author's Note: I need more Tokyo Revengers Fanfics! And, I'm sick of waiting on other people to update. So…here we are. This is a Baji/OC fanfic as a focus with other pairings as well. If anyone wants to read more, let me know, I'll give you more while I wait for others to update.