oxytocin | tr oneshots

home {madarame shion} pt.1

[final timeline, fluff]

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Summary

The story of you and him started when you suddenly found him beaten up real bad in an alleyway and decided to lend him a hand to go to the clinic.

But out of the blue, an unexpected friendship between you two blooms.

Well, the problem here is that you two have been struggling your whole lives searching for somewhere to belong or even having a decent place to call as "home".

So...is it possible for a home to be a person instead? And not a place?

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Okay.

So technically...this guy, who is literally the embodiment of a sore loser...is supposedly to be deemed as dangerous and intimidating.

Yeah, you get where those labels come from. The supposed scary parts of him, you mean. He doesn't look like any typical teenage boy, having a temple tattoo that reaches to his neck and a wack ass hairstyle (that's not even a single human being in school will dare do). It sure seems to prove to you that he was supposed to be bad news.

The cringy things that delinquents do, he must have done all of it. If he were to have a checklist, all of the boxes will be marked with not a single one being left empty. All the conditions that he needs to meet in order to be a true delinquent, he must have met all of that a long time ago.

But dear God.

How on earth things had come to this?

It's not like you have high hopes or anything about him. You have known about his existence in school for the last 3 years, and as the president of the student council, out of your will, you know everyone's name and how they are like. It may not be in a deeper manner but you know them on the surface.

Maybe not the juniors, but your batchmates, you know most of them.

And what you have envisioned about this man is that he might be a cold blooded ruthless person that loves nothing but beating up people as an entertainment in his life.

Bloodthirsty.

Simply saying that word defines your assumption about him completely.

That's what you heard from others. How in your head, an unreal or made up memory in your head of him beating up people with an evil grin etched on his face was there.

Knuckle dusters.

That's what you always saw him wearing on his right hand. He must have used it to wreck his opponents faces mercilessly.