Why do you have to go and make things so complicated?
"Complicated" ~ Avril Lavigne
Chifuyu stood at the edge of the shrine in his crisp new uniform, surrounded by a few other new guys. He was finally part of Toman, and if he thought it'd feel a little less tense now that he was "in," he was dead wrong. He could practically feel the hierarchy radiating off the guys around him, every unspoken rule settling heavily in the air as they all sized each other up.
It didn't take long for his eyes—and ears—to land on her.
Hikari sat on the stone steps, casual and easy, like she was born for this. She laughed at something Mitsuya said, her fingers strumming the strings of the guitar in her lap. Her music floated around them, softening the usual rough edges of the gang's world. But there was something else, too—a feeling he couldn't quite place, as though her presence grounded Toman in a way he didn't fully understand yet.
He'd seen her in action—taking down those Killer Bee guys with a skill that was both fierce and graceful. It made him think of her as Sailor Moon, kicking ass for justice and friendship. Though he figured if he ever actually called her that, she'd probably kick his ass. He stifled a small chuckle at the thought.
A nudge from the boy next to him broke his thoughts.
"That's her," the boy said in a low voice, nodding toward Hikari with a meaningful glance.
Chifuyu nodded. "Yeah, I know who she is."
"You've seen her at school, right? So you already know she's Baji's girl."
Chifuyu blinked, momentarily thrown. Baji's girl? He hadn't seen that coming. In all his interactions with her, he'd only seen Hikari as the quirky friend who could kick ass. But "Baji-san's girl?" That changed everything—or maybe he'd been blind to it.
The boy grinned, clearly enjoying the chance to play gossip. "Oh, yeah. Everyone knows. They've been close since forever. But here's the thing—" He leaned in conspiratorially. "Aki tried hitting on her after the last meeting. Offered to walk her home."
Chifuyu frowned. "And?"
"And Baji rearranged his face," the boy chuckled. "Aki didn't see it coming. One second, he's shooting his shot; next, he's eating pavement. Gave him a black eye that's still healing."
"And Baji did that because…?" Chifuyu asked, already suspecting the answer.
The boy shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Because no one messes with her. Not unless they want a one-way ticket to the hospital. She's his, even if they don't say it."
Chifuyu's eyes went back to Hikari. She didn't seem to notice any of it, too busy laughing and singing, her smile lighting up the space around her.
In that moment, he couldn't shake a strange feeling—one he had to admit sounded a little ridiculous. Hikari was like the sun. She was warm, vibrant, radiating this light that softened the rough edges of everyone around her. Baji? He was one of the planets, drawn to her gravity, always circling close and keeping watch, fiercely protective of that light.
It wasn't possession, Chifuyu realized. It was loyalty. Baji's protectiveness came from something a lot deeper than "territory." They were bound in a way that went beyond the usual labels, and no one needed to say it out loud.
As the new guys shifted around him, Chifuyu's gaze followed Baji, noticing how his usual nonchalance seemed to slip a little whenever he looked at her. His eyes softened, his guard dropped, and the rest of Toman seemed to read the boundary without needing a single reminder.
"They've been tight since they were kids," the boy continued, as if he were revealing some deep secret. "But you know how it is. No one's gonna get close to her. Not while Baji's around."
Chifuyu leaned back, arms crossed, taking it all in. This was more than just a gang; it was a constellation, with Hikari at the center, keeping them bound to her orbit. Whatever this bond was between her and Baji, it was one of those unspoken rules—the kind everyone instinctively understood.
As the sun dipped lower, shadows stretched across the shrine. Chifuyu knew one thing for sure: he wanted to be part of this constellation, bound by that same loyalty. And if he was lucky, he'd find his own place in that orbit, too.
*
Later that night, the shrine grew quiet. The laughter and chatter that filled the space earlier faded into the cool embrace of nighttime. Most everyone had drifted away now, scattering off in different directions. Baji and Ryusei walked side by side along the stone path leading away from the shrine, their footsteps the only sound in the stillness.
Ahead of them, Hikari stood off to the side, her guitar case slung across her back, caught up in an easy conversation with Draken and Mitsuya. She laughed at something Mitsuya said, and the sound floated back to them, soft and clear. Baji's gaze lingered, just for a second, watching as the lamplight brushed across her face, making her eyes look bright and alive in the twilight.
"Hey." Ryusei's voice cut through the quiet, casual but carrying that usual note of curiosity. "What's the deal with you and Hikari-chan?"
Baji didn't answer right away, his gaze reluctantly shifting from Hikari to Ryusei. "What do you mean?" His tone was rough, almost defensive, like he knew where this was going and didn't want any part of it.
Ryusei just gave him a sideways look, the beginnings of a smirk curling at the edge of his mouth. "Come on, man. You get pissed if anyone so much as breathes in her direction. And don't think I didn't see you glaring last time when I was braiding her hair." His tone was light, teasing, but with a sharper edge underneath, like he was prodding Baji's defenses just to see what would happen.
Baji's jaw clenched as he kicked at a loose rock, sending it skittering across the path. "She's been my friend for a long time," he muttered, his voice lower now, like he was hoping it'd end the conversation.
Ryusei chuckled, soft but relentless. "Right. Except it doesn't exactly look like 'just a friend' vibes to me."
Baji stopped. He turned to face Ryusei, eyes narrowed. "What's your point?" The words were clipped, like he was throwing them just to get Ryusei off his case.
Ryusei raised his hands in mock surrender, grin still in place. "No point, really. Just wondering if you know what's going on in that thick skull of yours. Because everyone else can see it."
Baji's heart skipped a beat, the truth of those words hitting a little too close to home. Ryusei was good at this—too good. Good at peeling away things Baji didn't want to admit, even to himself, and laying them out like it was the simplest thing in the world. Baji felt his face flush, irritation and embarrassment prickling hotly.
"There's nothing going on," Baji muttered, the words sounding thin even to his own ears. But he said it anyway, letting them hang in the air.
Ryusei shrugged, smirk still annoyingly intact. "Whatever you say. But if you don't figure it out soon, someone else might."
The words settled between them, sinking into the quiet like rocks into water. Baji's chest tightened at the thought, an uncomfortable twist forming in his gut as the image of "someone else" stuck, unwelcome and persistent. He glanced back at Hikari—still talking to Draken and Mitsuya, laughing like she didn't have a care in the world, completely oblivious to the storm brewing behind her.
Without another word, Baji turned and walked off, his footsteps heavy, like he could somehow shake off Ryusei's comment if he walked far enough. But it was too late—the doubt had already taken root, small but stubborn, at the edges of his mind.
As he walked, Ryusei's words kept looping in his mind, stubborn and grating. "If you don't figure it out soon, someone else might." The thought just wouldn't leave.
Someone else. The very idea pissed him off. Ryusei had been teasing, sure, but the thought of someone else laughing with Hikari, sharing secrets, getting as close to her as he was made his blood run hot. They'd known each other forever, that's all. He'd always looked out for her. It was just… natural. Hikari was important to him, like Toman, like Mikey and Draken. She was his—his friend, his anchor, his constant in the chaos. That was all it was… right?
He hesitated, feeling a strange tightness settle in his chest as the question sat there, unanswered. The protectiveness he'd always felt hadn't gone anywhere; it was still there, sure. But now it was wrapped in something sharper, something that made his pulse quicken in a way he didn't want to dig into.
He shoved a hand through his hair, simmering with frustration. Why was this bothering him so much? Hikari could handle herself just fine—hell, she was tougher than half of Toman. But there was something else, something like a knot tightening in his chest whenever he thought about her with anyone else. What the hell is this? Jealousy? Or, even worse, something that left him feeling… vulnerable?
He kicked at the gravel, pressing forward. He was a man of action, not one for overthinking. But this? This wasn't something he could punch his way out of. It was messier, tangled in a way he didn't know how to fight.
The memory of her laughing with Ryusei, the way she brushed off the guys' stupid comments at the beach—it didn't bother him that other people noticed her. It was the idea that maybe one day she wouldn't need him in the way she always had. That thought hit like a punch to the gut.
His breath hitched, and the realization settled, heavy and undeniable. It wasn't just protectiveness, or even friendship. This ran deeper, something he hadn't wanted to face. But the idea of losing her, of losing what they had, scared him more than he wanted to admit.
He glanced back. Hikari was still laughing with Draken and Mitsuya, her smile soft under the streetlight. She was the same Hikari who'd followed him into every stupid mess, who'd once declared, "I'm going to marry you when we grow up." She'd said it so casually, he'd written it off as a joke.
But what if it wasn't?
His chest tightened again, that unfamiliar feeling twisting deep inside. He didn't want to think about it, but he couldn't deny it anymore. He had to figure it out—because if he didn't, Ryusei might be right.
And the thought of losing Hikari to someone else? That was a fight he wasn't sure he'd survive.