▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

𝟐𝟕 || 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀! ||

•

•

•

Takemichi stares down at the Polaroid camera in his hands, excitement bristling beneath his skin.

    It had taken forever for him to finally convince his mother to buy him his own camera. Ever since Takemichi spotted those Polaroid pictures hanging in Keisuke's room, He wanted to get his hands on a camera that can replicate similar pictures. The thought of snapping a moment in time—whether it's a good one or a bad one—really fascinates Takemichi.

    It'll stay with him forever when memories fade away. It'll stay and collect dust as he gains more memories. Then, when he's old and gray, he can look back at the pictures that help define his life.

    The boy then turns his attention to the very first polaroid picture he took: it's of him with Keisuke on his lap—his arms wrapped around Takemichi's neck—blinding smiles gracing both of their lips.

     Affection blossoms within his core the longer he stares at Keisuke—his best friend, his savior, his everything. A boy who's always been with Takemichi since the moment he started his new life in this town. He owes the boy everything; if it weren't for Keisuke, then Takemichi would still be a cautious child, swerving his head from side to side, afraid of what might pop up around the corner. Keisuke has taught him to embrace every new road and not face the unexpected with fear, but with excitement. With interest. With him.

    Before Takemichi taped the picture into the first page of his picture book, he brought the polaroid to his chest and heaved out a heartfelt sigh.

    Keisuke will always be his special someone.

     This will be his little secret.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

"Wu uh yu doina?" Haruchiyo grumbles out from his place in Takemichi's kitchen, his mouth full of cereal and milk.

    Takemichi adjusts his hold on the Polaroid camera in his hand, trying and failing to be as sneaky as possible from behind the couch. He planned to snap a picture of Haruchiyo without him noticing, but fate obviously has other plans. He shouldn't even be surprised at this point; Haruchiyo has grown to be very perceptive and cautious— it makes sense that he's able to uncover Takemichi.

    "What was that? I don't speak gibberish!" Haruchiyo throws him a glare from across the room. With furrowed brows, Haruchiyo gulps down his food in one go. Setting his bowl of cereal to the side, he sits up in his seat and attempts to peer over the couch to catch a glimpse of Takemichi. Takemichi ducks down, unable to fight to the smile that makes its way onto his face.

    "I said 'what are you doing'?" He repeats again in a clear voice void of food, feigning irritation as he tries to peer over the cushions of Takemichi's couch. Takemichi just giggles and hides, trying to get out of Haru's line of vision. His hands grip the camera tighter as he tries once again to snap a picture of Haru.

    "Oh nothingggg~" Takemichi hums. He then finds an open spot between the back cushions that perfectly shows Haru. The boy's face is scrunched up, brows knitting together in frustration as he tries and fails to spot Takemichi.

    With shaky hands, Takemichi brings the Polaroid camera up and snaps a picture of the boy.

    The light on top of the camera goes off, immediately alerting Haru.

    "TAKEMICHI—WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"

    Takemichi rolls off the couch and scrambles to his room, laughing up a storm as he hears the pitter patter of Haru's feet following after him. Once he gets to his room, he slams the door shut and leans against it, trying to stop Haru from breaking into his room unannounced.

    "WAS THAT A CAMERA?! DID YOU TAKE A PICTURE OF ME?!" Takemichi answers Haru with uncontained laughter.

    With his weight still leaning against the door, Takemichi snatches the picture that popped up from inside the camera and examines it with a smile gracing his lips.

    (It's a shaky picture of Haru with traces of milk splattered on his cheeks, crumbs decorating the corners of his mouth, and his face skeptical and suspicious.

    It was perfect.)

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Takemichi's second victim is Mikey.

    The boy isn't all that surprised when Mikey lights up at the sight of Takemichi's camera. From what he's seen and observed, Mikey isn't camera shy in the slightest. During the few times he was allowed into Mikey's room, Takemichi was able to spot more than a few silly pictures of Mikey and his siblings hanging up on the wall.

    "Eh? Mitchy, is that a camera?" He asks just as Takemichi brings the camera up to snap a picture.

    "Yep! I'm taking pictures of all my friends so I can put them in my picture book," Takemichi explains giddily.

    He's already explained his plan to Keisuke who, for some reason, was very excited about his little project. So, together, the two boys had made a list of people and planned how they could convince them to let Takemichi take a picture of them.

    For example, Takemichi needed to be sneaky when dealing with Haru due to the boy's hatred for cameras.

    Mikey, on the other hand—

    "Can I add you to the picture book, Mikey?" Takemichi asks sweetly, remembering Keisuke's words when they made the plan for the boy to corner and snap a picture of the charismatic blonde.

    "He'll probably be ok with having his picture taken, but—just in case—you gotta kiss up to him. Say please a lot!"

    With a deep breath and a silent prayer to Keisuke, Takemichi beams at Mikey and smiles like his life depends on it.

    "Pleeeease Mikey? The book wouldn't be perfect without you in it!" He exclaims, his finger grazing over the button of his camera.

   And, as planned, Mikey's face lights up at Takemichi's words—his cheeks set aflame and dark eyes twinkling like stars in the night sky. It's the picture moment for Takemichi to take a picture.

    Snap!

    Mikey gasps in surprise, betrayal written all over his face. He jumps on top of Takemichi and attempts to grab the camera from his hands.

    "Hey!!! I wasn't ready!!!" Mikey whines despite the goofy smile spreading across his face, causing Takemichi to burst out laughing.

   With his hands still wrapped tightly around his camera, Takemichi escapes from Mikey's grasp and runs away from the blonde, his laughter ringing throughout the Sano residence. Like Haru, Mikey follows him around the property, close on his heels but just out of reach. Emma and Shin pop their heads out of their rooms to see what the commotion is about, but quickly brush it off once they spot Takemichi and Mikey running around like maniacs.

    Mikey ends up cornering the boy after a few minutes of running like their lives depended on it. The blonde snatches the camera from Takemichi's hands, ignoring the boy's protests. With a goofy smile still gracing his lips, he turns the camera around and snaps a few pictures of himself, throwing up peace signs and silky faces, before handing it back to Takemichi.

    "There!" Mikey declares as he passes the camera back to the curly haired boy. "Now you have lots of pictures of me to choose from~" he sings happily, wrapping his arms around Takemichi's torso as they scan through the pictures the Polaroid produced.

    (Even though Takemichi had more pictures to choose from than Haru, his eyes were still drawn to the first picture he took of Mikey. His black eyes twinkled with happiness, cheeks red and lips parted in a smile, the sun beaming behind him—illuminating his blonde hair in a halo. There was no sign of the empty boy who harmed Haru. He disappeared completely, leaving behind a boy with a radiant smile

    This is who Mikey really is—a small happy boy who makes mistakes just like everyone else.)

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Takemichi had planned for his next victim to be Senju.

    The boy hasn't seen her since the incident with Haru and Mikey. Sure, he'd catch glimpses of her platinum blonde hair when he'd drop Haru off at the Akashi's house, but—other than that—they never really saw each other.

    He had hoped to see her again; her green eyes that twinkle and shine under the sun's light, rosy cheeks blossoming with color as she rambled about something that happened in her class, smile big and bright—showing her missing teeth which would earn a few remarks from the boys. The blonde girl is such a vital part of their group. The absence she left behind is hard to ignore, but no one speaks of it. Takemichi doesn't want to upset Haru by asking him about his little sister and the last thing he wants to do is annoy Mikey with questions due to his ever changing mood swings.

    Takemichi, without a doubt, misses Senju. He misses her hugs, her teasing, the bright smile she makes when she declares Takemichi as her husband, the noogies she'd give to the curly haired boy when he did something stupid. He misses all of it—the good and the bad. It simply isn't the same without her presence.

    So, with his camera clutched under his arm, sweat pooling down his oversized band shirt, he knocks on the door to Haru's house. Nothing happens at first—he doesn't hear the sound of feet pattering across wooden tiles or the familiar yell of a child.

    Takemichi stands there in front of the door for a minute, slowly losing hope, when it swings open—nearly slamming into Takemichi's face. With wide eyes, he looks up at spots the last person he'd expect to see after everything that's happened.

    Big bro Takeomi.

    It's been awhile since Takemichi has laid eyes upon Takeomi and a few things have changed about his appearance. His long black hair—that Takemichi used to admire—is messy and thrown all over his face like he had just woken up from a nap. Dark shadows decorate the skin under his eyes, making his expression hard and more intimidating. A cigarette is caught between his lips, smoke dancing around his figure in a dance that the boy is unfamiliar with.

    Takeomi looks down at Takemichi and narrows his green eyes, teeth grinding against the cigarette in his mouth. "The hell are you doing here? You lookin' for Haru or somethin'?" He mumbles, annoyance laced through his voice that sets Takemichi on edge.

    Takemichi forces a smile onto his face, ignoring the memories of Haru beaten and crying because Takeomi ignored his pleas for help, and shows the older Akashi the camera in his hands.

    "No—I'm here to take some pictures of Senju—"

    At the mention of the youngest Akashi, Takeomi scoffs and starts to close the door.

    "That brat wants nothing to do with you, kid. Go back to your little friends and forget about her."

    The words strike a cord within Takemichi. He wants to topple over, grab onto Takeomi and call him the meanest words in the dictionary, but he stays still—his body not obeying a single thing his brain wants him to do.

    Takemichi watches with disbelief as Takeomi slams the door on his face.

    The faint sound of a click is what really sends Takemichi over the edge.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

"Hey mama—can you help me with something?"

    Takemichi watches with bated breath as his mother slowly turns her head to face her son—fingers clutching onto a recipe Ms.Baji had given them a few days ago. His mom hums and goes back to peering at the piece of paper, her blue eyes narrowing as she reads the steps to make dinner.

    "Can it wait till after dinner?" She asks right as she reaches for the empty red pot.

    Takemichi puffs his lip out in frustration, not at all satisfied by his mother's lack of interest. They can have dinner later—Takemichi's request is far more important than whatever the hell mom is cooking.

    Or, in this case, attempting to cook.

    "No! I need help right now!"

    His mother groans, the noise vibrating through the kitchen, and turns her head back to properly face Takemichi. Her face is twisted in a way that makes her look five years older and it disturbs Takemichi in a way he can't name.

    He decides not to mention it in fear of being yelled at for offending his mother's "beautiful face" as she so calls it...

    His mother crouches down till they're eye level with each other, her scrunched up face getting closer and closer to the point where Takemichi can spot each individual wrinkle. "What do you need my annoying little fly?" She asks, more like sneers, in a voice that feigns friendliness.

    "I need you to take me to S.S. Motors!!!" He orders, excitement bubbling up inside his chest as he thinks to his next plan of action.

    Takemichi hopes to run into Shin, Waka, and benkei (Takeomi—not so much) at the motor shop so he could snap a picture of them. They've done alot for Takemichi—helping him grow his confidence, introducing him to a bunch of cool gang slang and board games, helping him with his homework whenever his mom is unavailable to help him, and they helped protect his mom about a year ago when she had gotten jumped! They have more than proven themselves worthy of being in Takemichi's picture book, and all he needs is his mother's permission—

    "Seriously, baby? That can wait till after dinner," She bites back.

    To Takemichi's horror, she straightens back up and begins setting her sights on the kitchenware, completely ignoring Takemichi's cries for help.

    With big glassy eyes, Takemichi grasps onto the long oversized shirt his mother is wearing and stuffs his face against the fabric, earning a small yelp from the lady. "No it can't!!!" Takemichi shouts into her shirt, dread pooling inside his stomach as the seconds tick by.

    "Hey! I'm trying to cook babe—"

    "I need to see Shin, Waka, and Benkei right now!!! I need their picture for the book mama!!!" He cries out, hoping his explanation will sway his mother to his side.

    The woman, to his disbelief, reaches down and ruffles his hair as if that's more than enough to keep Takemichi sated and calm. It isn't. In fact, it made him even more anxious to get them out of the apartment and into Shin's humble abode.

    "But you—we need to eat!" She refutes, impatience a silver lining in her tone that makes Takemichi's ears ring.

    "But I need their pictures!"

    A loud groan reverberates through the kitchen; the small boy clutches onto his Mom's shirt for dear life, knowing that he's finally reached the end of her patience.

     He should've just said ok and left. In fact, maybe she wouldn't be upset if he had never brought it up in the first place—

    "Takemichi, listen to me very carefully because I'm not repeating myself."

    Takemichi lifts his head from his mothers shirt and takes in the expressionless look on her face. A nervous tug of his chest makes him step back—unsure if he's about to be punished for his actions.

    "We'll go to Shinichiro's shop after dinner if it's still open," she states, her eyes staring straight into Takemichi's soul, prying open his mind and searching, picking at the flesh that makes his head itch. Her hand that was previously in his curly strands of hair moves down to cup the side of his face, her long painted nails grazing over his fair skin.

    Her face then hardens, turning dark and stern as she glares down at Takemichi. Chills run up the boy's spine, making him shiver and shake under her menacing gaze.

    "But, if you keep whining like a two year old, then you can kiss S.S. Motors goodbye. Are we clear?"

    Takemichi nods his head, his lips zipped shut to keep his whining (he wasn't whining, ok? He was just—just desperate to get some pictures, ok?) under control.

    And, like a switch, she's back to being the sassy mother Takemichi has grown to known.

    "Good!" She exclaims, a satisfied smile sitting on her plump red lips. "Now go finish your homework. I'll be done with dinner in about thirty minutes."

    His mom dismisses him with a light shove towards the exit of the kitchen, leaving Takemichi alone with his camera, homework, and sour attitude.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

By the time Takemichi and his mom make it to S.S. Motors, it's dark and cold nearing nine o'clock.

    Takemichi made sure to complain the entire way over just to get on his mother"s nerves, but she just kept walking with her hand wrapped around Takemichi's—eyes alert and wary as they traveled through the dark streets of Shibuya.

    He's not blind to the way her hand tightens when a shady figure passes them, barely giving the mother and son a glance, probably too immersed in his own little world to notice the pair. He knows why she does it: to keep them safe in case they're dangerous.

    Even so, it never fails to leave a sick feeling In Takemichi's stomach.

    When they arrive at S.S. Motors, they're greeted with the sight of Shin hanging something outside the shop, Wakasa and Benkei watching him with amusement written across their faces.

    "Should you really be doing this, Shin?" Takemichi hears Wakasa ask from a distance, his voice filled with amusement yet concern. "You already have us helping you with the shop. You don't need more workers—"

    "Sure I do!" Shinichiro interrupts in cheery Sano like fashion. Turning to Wakasa, he gives him a beaming smile. "There's this kid who keeps visiting me doing the day! He's like...maybe a few years older than Mikey...but he already has such an amazing eye for motorbikes! I want to give him some kind of job, even if it's something small—" Shinichiro cuts himself off when he looks past Wakasa, finally spotting Takemichi and his mother in the darkness.

    Takemichi smiles brightly, his eyes wid and beaming with joy as Shinichiro calls out to them, their names filled with joy. Wakasa and Benkei spot them the moment Shinichiro calls put to them, small smiles settling on their lips as they gaze down at the pair.

    "Well if it isn't the Hanagakis!" Benkei exclaims with his arms crossed in front of his chest, showing off his bulging muscles.

    "Well if it isn't the troublesome delinquents~" His mom refutes back, earning herself a few annoyed groans from the three teenagers.

    "Those days are behind us Ms. Hanagaki," Wakasa says, lilac eyes glimmering with an unknown emotion as he stares down at his mom. "We're just regular old adults trying to make a living."

    Surprising Takemichi, his mother scoffs at Wakasa's words. "It's a little hard to see you guys as adults when just a year ago you were wearing those childish