{TRIGGER WARNING FOR NON-CONSENSUAL MOLESTATION AND SOME SA}
Yu's face burned hotter than the rising steam, his trembling arms crossing over his chest in a desperate attempt to cover himself. His body felt too exposed, too vulnerable, every drop of water against his skin like a cruel reminder that he was laid bare.
"T-Taichi…"
His voice cracked, thick with shame.
In an instant, Taichi was at his side, kneeling in the shallow water, hands steady but his expression torn between panic and tenderness. He quickly snatched the fallen towel, draping it over Yu's shivering frame before pulling him close.
"Don't cry, Yu. I've got you."
Taichi whispered, his voice low, trembling with the same fury that glared out of his eyes when they flicked toward Isuke.
Yu buried his face in Taichi's chest, body shaking with humiliated sobs. His words tumbled out in broken pieces:
"I-I didn't mean… I wasn't trying to… please don't look…"
"I'm not looking. I promise."
Taichi soothed, pressing his chin lightly to Yu's damp hair.
"You're safe. That's all that matters."
When he was certain Yu could breathe again, Taichi slipped his arms beneath him, lifting him easily into a princess carry. Yu clung to his neck, trembling but comforted by the steady heartbeat against his cheek.
Isuke, still standing frozen in the water, stared as though the breath had been stolen from him. His hands curled into fists, his lips parting as if to call Yu's name—yet no words came.
Taichi turned his head only once, shooting Isuke a glare so sharp it could cut. His eyes were ablaze with a silent warning:
Never again.
Without another word, he carried Yu out of the springs, each careful step deliberate, protective. The lanterns lining the path glowed warm against the night, framing the two of them in a quiet, almost sacred light.
Behind them, Isuke remained alone in the churning water, the steam curling around him like the smoke of his own burning desire and despair.
The spring was quiet again. Only the soft lap of water against stone echoed in the steam. Isuke stood motionless, droplets sliding down his face, indistinguishable from the tears he refused to acknowledge.
His breath came ragged, chest rising and falling as Yu's image seared itself into his mind—drenched white hair fanned like angelic wings, porcelain skin glistening under the lantern light, every curve and shiver laid bare.
"That look… those tears… the way he trembled…"
Isuke murmured, voice hoarse, half in awe, half in madness. His lips twisted into a shadowed smile.
"He wants me. He just doesn't know how to admit it."
His hand grazed the surface of the steaming water, fingers curling tight as if grasping an invisible thread tied to Yu himself.
"That wasn't shame. It was desire… his body telling me the words his lips can't say. He's mine. He's always been mine."
The hunger in his gut coiled lower, and his breath shuddered as his hands moved, quick and precise with the fresh new memory of Yu, bare before him. Isuke tilted his head back as a shuddering groan escaped his lips, the steam swallowing him whole as his obsession deepened, more dangerous than ever.
---
Meanwhile, Taichi carefully set Yu down on a bench inside the changing room, a new towel now wrapped snugly around him. Yu kept his face buried, cheeks burning with a mix of humiliation and relief.
"Yu."
Taichi whispered softly, kneeling in front of him. His large hands cupped Yu's damp cheeks gently, careful not to brush the once bruised side.
"Look at me, just for a second."
Hesitant, Yu lifted his eyes. They were red from tears, shimmering with lingering shame.
"You did nothing wrong."
Taichi said firmly, brushing a strand of wet hair from Yu's forehead.
"Nothing. Don't let him… or anyone… make you feel dirty for being you. You're beautiful, Yu. Always."
Yu's throat tightened, fresh tears threatening to spill, but this time they were soft, grateful. He leaned forward, pressing his lips—just a feather touch—to Taichi's.
"Thank you, Taichi."
He whispered.
Taichi smiled faintly, standing to fetch another fresh towel. He began patting Yu dry with tender care, as if afraid to hurt him, then helped him into clean clothes. Yu, in turn, took Taichi's hands when they were done, and carefully placed a band-aid on a scrape on his knuckle from the fight earlier.
The two of them shared a quiet chuckle at how they both looked—flushed, worn, but together.
And for that night, Yu felt truly safe again.
---
The hallways of the ryokan were hushed that night, lanterns dim, the scent of tatami mats grounding the air. Taichi carried his and Yu's small bath bag in one hand while his other stayed at the small of Yu's back, guiding him gently as if shielding him from the world.
When they reached Yu's room, Taichi set the bag down just inside the sliding door. Yu lingered at the threshold, still wrapped in the faint scent of cedar and steam from the baths, his damp hair tied loosely at the nape of his neck, reaching all the way down to near his bottom now.
"Sleep well tonight."
Taichi said softly, leaning down just enough that his shadow stretched over Yu. His voice carried that protective weight he always bore when it came to Yu.
"No one's going to bother you anymore."
Yu fidgeted, fingers twisting in his sleeve.
"But… what if he tries again?"
His voice cracked with the fear he tried to hide.
Taichi stepped closer, lowering his forehead against Yu's so their breaths mingled.
"Then I'll fight again. A hundred times if I have to. Because you're worth it."
Yu's lips quivered into a shy smile. He rose on tiptoe, pressing the gentlest kiss to Taichi's mouth.
"You always say things like that… you make it hard for me not to believe you."
Taichi chuckled, ruffling Yu's damp hair.
"Good. Then believe it."
They lingered like that a moment longer, in the quiet of the hall, before Yu finally slipped into his room. Taichi watched the door close, exhaling a long breath before turning away—his fists still aching, but his heart full.
---
The dining hall buzzed with chatter and clinking dishes as the students gathered for breakfast. The low hum of voices filled the space, but Yu felt every pair of eyes swing toward him and Taichi the moment they entered.
Yu's cheek still held a faint pink mark from the fall, and Taichi's hand bore a fresh band-aid. Across the room, Isuke sat rigidly, his lip slightly swollen from the previous night, his eyes fixed on Yu with a storm hidden just beneath his perfect smile.
But Yu's friends were quicker—Sakura and Fumiko immediately waved him over, sliding aside to make space at their table.
"Yu-chan! Omg! We missed you!!"
Sakura chirped, her tone too bright, as if trying to chase away any whispers with sheer energy.
"Come sit by us! Ugh, I can't believe they placed us with another class! We missed a whole day without our Yu-chan's cuteness! I'm so gonna file a complaint when we get back!"
Fumiko leaned in protectively, already pouring Yu tea and setting food on his tray like a doting mother.
"You need to eat, sweetheart. You look exhausted! Is everything ok? No creeps are bothering you, right?"
Yamato and Souma, seated across, smirked knowingly at Taichi.
"Dang, you two look rough."
Souma said, nodding at Taichi's hand.
"Had a 'rough' night?"
Taichi glared, but Yamato just laughed.
"Whao, hey, I didn't mean it like that. Relax. Kinda obvious who won though."
Yu's face flushed as he ducked his head, but the warmth from his friends wrapped around him like armor. For once, he didn't feel alone.
Still, as he risked a glance across the hall, he found Isuke staring back at him. Their eyes locked—Yu's filled with defiance, Isuke's with something darker, unreadable.
The class trip wasn't over until he was back to the safety of their home.
---
The bus hummed with the steady rhythm of wheels against asphalt, students chattering in low tones or dozing in their seats as the trip home stretched long.
Yu sat by the window, his forehead resting lightly against the cool glass. His body ached with exhaustion—the sightseeing, the tension, the constant vigilance. All he wanted was to nap and wake to the familiar skyline near his apartment with Taichi.
But Taichi wasn't beside him.
Instead, Isuke had claimed the seat, smiling politely to the supervising teacher when the assignments were checked, his hands folded neatly as if nothing simmered beneath the surface.
The bus rumbled on, the air turning warm and drowsy. Yu felt his eyelids grow heavy. He tugged the blanket folded on his lap a little higher, curling against the window.
And that was when it happened.
A hand slipped under the blanket. Slow. Testing. Fingers brushed against his thigh.
Yu's breath caught. His eyes snapped open, panic flooding every vein. He clamped his hand down over Isuke's wrist, his nails digging in.
"Stop—please—stop, Sasaki-san."
He hissed, his face burning crimson.
Isuke only leaned closer, his breath warm against Yu's ear.
"You tremble like this every time…"
He whispered, voice low enough that no one else could hear.
"Your body already knows the truth."
"Y-You're wrong—"
The words cut off as Isuke tilted Yu's chin and pressed his lips down over his. The angle pinned Yu against the glass, his body trapped between the cold window and the searing press of Isuke's mouth. Yu whimpered, trying to turn away, but Isuke chased him, deepening the kiss as though to devour the very air from his lungs.
The blanket hid the motion of Isuke's hand kneading insistently at Yu's thigh, creeping higher. Yu writhed against the corner, his fists balling, pushing weakly against Isuke's chest.
Tears stung his eyes. The voices of classmates blurred around him, muffled by the pounding in his ears.
'Why doesn't anyone see? Why doesn't anyone stop him?'
And still, even as he shoved, even as his lips burned from the kiss forced on him, Yu gasped into the assault of emotions ripping through him—fear, shame, fury, and a terrifying flicker of unwanted heat.
"No!"
Yu choked between the broken kiss, his voice cracking, raw with desperation.
"I'll never love you. I love Taichi. Only Taichi!"
That declaration hung, sharp as glass, even in the muffled dark of the bus.
Yu's breath came in ragged gasps as he clawed at the blanket, trying to shove it aside, to stand, to call out to anyone. His mouth opened—
"Help—!"
The cry never left his lips.
Isuke crushed his mouth over Yu's again, harder this time, his tongue forcing its way inside. Yu's muffled whimper shuddered in his chest, trapped by the heat invading his mouth. His fingers trembled, clutching the seat's edge until his knuckles went white.
'No—no no no—'
The bus swerved as it rattled over a bump, and suddenly Yu was thrown off balance right at the moment he attempted to stand again. Isuke's arm coiled around his waist, yanking him sideways, dragging him onto his lap beneath the cover of the blanket.
Yu froze.
The hard press beneath him left no mistaking what Isuke's body was doing. The bulge against his bottom throbbed through the thin barrier of fabric. A rush of hot and cold flooded Yu's veins at once—terror first, seizing his chest like ice, but beneath it, something else, something darker that made his body jolt with confusion. His mouth salivated and a dark coiling hunger crept to the surface.
"No—please—stop—"
He whimpered against the unrelenting kiss, tears streaming down his cheeks. He twisted, bucked, trying to slide away, but Isuke's hold only tightened.
"You feel it too, don't you?"
Isuke murmured against his mouth, his tongue sweeping cruelly past Yu's lips again.
"Your body betrays you."
Yu shook his head wildly, sobbing, his hands beating against Isuke's chest.
'Why? Why am I shaking like this? Why can't I stop? Why is my heart—I-I want—no—'
The blanket shifted, threatening to slip. Yu grabbed at it desperately, as if keeping it in place could keep the whole world from seeing his shame. His throat ached with the scream he couldn't let out, smothered again and again by Isuke's tongue, by the suffocating cage of arms and heat.
And still, in the pit of his stomach, that dangerous confusion grew—scared and excited all at once, a betrayal he couldn't reconcile. A hunger in his soul he couldn't understand.
'Taichi—'
His soul screamed the name, even as his body trembled in Isuke's grasp.
Yu squeezed his eyes shut, desperate to blot out the world, to imagine he was anywhere—anywhere—else. The rumble of the bus, the chatter of classmates, it all became a faint haze behind the pounding of his heart and the hot, wet press of Isuke's mouth devouring his.
The blanket shifted with every tug, every stolen gasp. Isuke's hands roamed boldly, gripping Yu's narrow hips, kneading him closer, tighter, as if Yu's trembling body belonged only to him. One hand slid higher, grazing the small rise of Yu's chest. A shiver of betrayal arced through Yu, his back arching against his will, tears leaking down his cheeks.
'No—don't—stop—please—I don't—I can't—'
But the words never left his lips. They were swallowed whole, smothered by Isuke's kisses.
The bus rocked over another bump, and Yu's body lurched, grinding against the thick, insistent bulge beneath him. Heat licked across his skin like fire. The rhythm of the wheels on the road seemed to match the pulse of Isuke's hips—thrust, drag, press—until Yu could hardly tell where his body ended and the violation began.
"Mm—Yu—"
Isuke's breath burned hot against his ear. His pace quickened, frantic, his grip crushing as if afraid Yu might vanish from his arms. His body shuddered, his breaths coming ragged, uneven.
Yu forced his eyes open, his lashes wet, his vision blurred by tears. Isuke's face was flushed crimson, his lips swollen from the assault, his gaze heavy with feverish hunger. Arms locked tight around Yu's small frame, trembling as waves of release left him shivering.
Yu's stomach twisted. His lips were raw, his body shaken, and yet—shame scorched him deeper than anything else. Because his own skin still tingled where those hands had touched. Because somewhere in the confusion of fear and revulsion, his body had responded.
His tears spilled faster. He wanted to crawl out of himself. To vanish into nothing.
'Taichi… help me…'
But all he could do was sit there, crushed under Isuke's weight and the suffocating dark of the blanket, until the bus rattled on toward home.
Yu sat frozen, blanketed in silence until Isuke gingerly shifted him back into his own seat. His body was no longer trapped in Isuke's arms, yet every inch of him felt bruised, claimed, dirtied. He tugged the blanket tighter around himself, cocooning his trembling frame as if it might shield him from the stares of classmates, from the world itself.
No one noticed. No one could. He made sure of it—head bowed, face turned toward the rattling window, fists balled beneath the fabric. His breath came shallow, ragged, as if too much air might crack him open.
From the corner of his vision, Yu saw Isuke rising, calm, composed. Smug. He adjusted his shirt, pulling it lower, smirk curling his lips as he stepped down the narrow aisle toward the bus's tiny bathroom. He didn't even glance back at Yu as he slipped inside, shutting the door with a click.
The sound made Yu's stomach twist.
'He's… cleaning himself…'
Yu curled tighter into the blanket, fresh shame burning down his throat. He wanted to scrub every trace away. To vanish. But he could only sit there, small and silent, hiding inside wool and shadows until the bus jolted to its final stop.
When the ride ended, the students spilled out in chatter and laughter, stretching their legs, complaining about long hours in the seat. Yu stepped down last, still clutching the blanket like a shield. His hair curtained his face, his eyes downcast.
It didn't fool Taichi.
The moment their gazes met—Yu's eyes red-rimmed, his lips swollen, his shoulders hunched—something inside Taichi snapped taut. He reached for Yu's arm, gentle but unyielding.
"Yu."
He whispered, low and urgent, the kind of voice that begged truth.
"What happened?"
Yu flinched at the question, shaking his head too quickly, too desperately. His voice wouldn't work; the words wouldn't come.
But Taichi saw enough. He saw it in the way Yu avoided him, in the way his hands trembled beneath the blanket, in the silence that weighed heavier than any confession. And behind them, he caught the faintest sight of Isuke stepping closer after having grabbed his suitcase, face calm, lips curved in a satisfied smirk.
Taichi's jaw clenched. His fists curled. His breath seethed between his teeth.
Something was very wrong.
And this time, Taichi swore to himself, he would drag the truth into the light.
Taichi's eyes locked onto Isuke, every muscle in his body primed to lunge. He wanted to grab him, pin him to the side of the bus, demand to know what he had done to Yu—no, not demand, beat the truth out of him.
"Taichi…"
Yu's trembling voice pulled him back.
Taichi turned instantly, seeing the fear in Yu's eyes—not fear of him, but fear of what more might happen if Taichi acted here, now, in front of everyone. Yu shook his head, clutching his blanket tighter.
"Please… let's just go home. I don't want to be here anymore."
The raw plea in Yu's voice cracked through Taichi's fury. His fists unclenched, his chest heaving as he swallowed down the rage. Worry overpowered anger. With a sharp breath, he nodded.
"…Alright. Home."
He slung his arm protectively around Yu's shoulders, drawing him close as if he could shield him from the stares, the whispers, from the very air around them. Together, they grabbed their suitcase and bags and cut through the dispersing group of classmates and teachers, ignoring every call, every glance.
The walk back was heavy. Yu stayed tucked close to him, head down, silence stretched thin. The city lights blurred past like smudges on glass. Taichi didn't press him with questions—not yet. But every time Yu's grip on his sleeve tightened, every time his steps faltered, Taichi held him closer, steadying him.
When they finally reached the small studio apartment, the moment the door shut behind them, Yu slumped against it, the blanket falling from his hands onto the floor. His pale face was streaked with exhaustion, eyes glossed with tears he refused to let fall.
"Yu…"
Taichi started, reaching out.
Yu flinched—but then stepped into him, burying his face into Taichi's chest. His body shook, but no sobs came, just the shivers of someone holding themselves together with fraying thread.
Taichi wrapped his arms around him, strong, steady, saying nothing. Just holding. Just being there.
Yu's voice was muffled against him when it finally came.
"I… I don't want to talk about it. Not yet. Just… please don't let go of me."
"You don't even have to ask..."
Taichi whispered back, pressing his chin gently to the top of Yu's head.
And so they stayed—two boys wrapped up in a single fragile silence, their small home becoming a fragile sanctuary against the storm waiting outside.
The apartment stayed dim and hushed, the only sound the faint hum of the refrigerator and the soft rustle of fabric as Yu and Taichi went about their quiet routines. Taichi unpacked both of their suitcases, setting away their souvenirs. Then went about making tea for Yu, their hands brushing when he handed Yu his mug, lingering. No words passed—they didn't need them.
By the time night fully settled in, the world outside seemed to dissolve, leaving only the two of them. They slipped into bed together, the bed warm and familiar. Taichi reached to switch off the light, but Yu's hand caught his wrist, holding it a beat too long.
"Yu?"
Taichi's voice was soft, laced with concern.
Yu's ruby eyes glimmered faintly in the dark. Instead of answering, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Taichi's. Lightly, tentatively—like a question.
Taichi froze only for a heartbeat, then kissed him back, gentle and patient. But Yu didn't stop there. His lips pressed again, deeper, lingering longer, his breath shaky but insistent. His small body edged closer, seeking warmth, seeking reassurance.
"Yu…"
Taichi whispered against his mouth, but Yu cut him off with another kiss, trembling fingers sliding over Taichi's chest, nudging closer until their loose pajamas brushed and heat sparked between them.
Taichi's resolve wavered, but he couldn't deny him. One arm wrapped around Yu's narrow waist, pulling him close. His other hand traced slowly, reverently, grazing over soft curves, the lines of Yu's back, the dip of his waist. Each touch was featherlight, as if asking permission with every pass.
Yu shivered beneath his palm, not from fear but from want, from the heat that pooled where Taichi touched him. He deepened the kiss once more, lips parting just slightly, inviting Taichi in.
Their breaths mingled, warm and uneven, as if the world itself had shrunk to the tiny space between them.
For Yu, every brush of Taichi's hand was an erasure of Isuke's lingering shadow. A claiming not of possession, but of love—gentle, patient, real.
Taichi slowed their kissing, tapering into softer brushes, until Taichi pulled back just enough to look at Yu. His thumb traced Yu's damp lower lip, his chest rising and falling unevenly.
"Yu…"
He murmured, voice low,
"We don't have to rush. I'll wait as long as you need."
Yu's eyes glistened in the faint glow from the window. He bit his lip, trembling, then blurted out in a whisper.
"Sasaki… He-he touched me. On the bus."
His hands balled into fists against Taichi's shirt, pulling tighter.
"I hate it, I hate it so much. Please, Taichi—erase it. Replace it with you. I only want you."
Taichi's breath caught. A storm of fury welled up in his chest, but Yu's desperate ruby gaze anchored him. He cupped Yu's face, pressing their foreheads together.
"Alright…"
Taichi whispered, steady but fierce.
"Then I'll erase it. I'll do everything that bastard did… but gently, so you'll be clean. So you'll know it's only me."
Relief broke across Yu's face like sunlight through clouds. He let out a shaky little laugh, tears spilling even as he smiled.
"I love you, Taichi. I love you so much. So, so much."
He said it again, and again, like a mantra.
Taichi kissed each word from his lips, whispering back,
"I love you too. Always."
Then, with care, he began to map Yu's body with his hands—over the curve of his waist, the soft line of his thigh, the slope of his chest. Each touch deliberate, not rushed, not hungry—claiming not in possession but in devotion. Where Isuke had stolen, Taichi gave. Where Isuke had pressed pain, Taichi pressed comfort.
Yu melted into it, sighing, trembling, clinging tighter. Their kisses deepened once more, soft pajamas slipping and bunching as they pressed closer together, skin warming skin. Taichi's hand lingered over Yu's heart, feeling it race, before gliding higher to graze over a pink peak with reverence, waiting for Yu's nod before continuing.
Yu arched faintly into the touch, whispering Taichi's name like it was the only word he knew. The same coiling hunger simmered just beneath his skin yet, this time, he welcomed it.
"Taichi—more. Taichi. Hah."
The room filled only with their breaths, the whisper of fabric, the heartbeat-pulse of something fragile becoming whole. They didn't cross every line—but they went further than before, together, safe in the certainty that every step was chosen with care, devotion and love.
The Love-o-meter ticked up:
62 - 65