Chapter Text
Mitaka Asa was born on July 13, 2000, in Osaka, Japan.
Her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Mitaka, had been going through a rough patch for quite some time before her birth. They had hoped that her arrival might mend their relationship. It did not.
By the time she was seven, they had officially divorced. Her father moved in with a new family that he had been secretly hiding from them.
A few years later, at the age of eleven, Asa decided to take her education seriously. Her teachers quickly recognized her as gifted, even describing her as “truly exceptional” by the time she was thirteen.
At fifteen, she sat for the entrance exam to the most prestigious academy in her region. She passed. By eighteen, she had graduated with top marks and earned a scholarship to Kyoto Sangyo University.
She completed her bachelor’s degree at twenty-two. After some deliberation, she chose not to pursue a master’s degree. Her success at university had already secured her a job offer in Kyoto, a well-established salaried position with an impressive starting salary of five and a half million yen.
She accepted.
For the next three years, she worked diligently, climbing the corporate ladder at a company specializing in shoe sales. At twenty-five, she would tell anyone who asked that she already felt accomplished in life.
There was one notable absence.
Throughout her entire life, she had never experienced a single romantic interaction. If anyone made the mistake of asking her about it, she would launch into a lecture about how relationships only held people back and diverted their attention from what truly mattered.
It was, however, important to note that she had once admitted that she found Sho Hirano immensely attractive, specifically whenever his hair is dyed blond.
“C’moooooonnnnnn~” Yuko begged, spinning in her chair as she drew out the final syllable of her plea. “It’s a Friday night, and I know you don’t have plans.”
Asa sighed, shutting off her computer and straightening her desk.
It didn’t need much work. She always kept it neat. Still, the moment you slip up once, it only becomes easier to slip again.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” she replied coolly. “Crambon needs someone to check on him, and it’s too short notice to call a sitter.”
“No one’s saying you can’t check on your cat,” Fumiko said, leaning against the edge of Asa’s desk, her purse and briefcase tucked under one arm. “We’re all going home to get ready anyway.”
“He’s high maintenance,” Asa insisted.
“He can handle his mom going out and having fun every once in a while,” Yuko added sagely.
Asa opened her mouth to retort, then quickly shut it.
Truth be told, he most definitely could. Despite how often she privately insisted he was her baby, he was a surprisingly independent little feline.
The reality was that she simply didn’t want to go.
She liked her peers. She really did.
At first, she hadn’t. She had assumed their relaxed attitudes were the result of nepotism, that they had received the same offer she had through connections rather than merit.
She had been wrong.
They were competent. Not as good as her, if their weekly reports were anything to go by, but competent nonetheless.
So no, the issue wasn’t them. It was Asa.
She didn’t enjoy going out.
She knew she had to sometimes. For groceries, for clothes, for vet visits for Crambon, and things like that. And of course, it would be bad manners to skip the occasional company dinner.
But that didn’t mean she liked it.
Social settings weren’t her thing.
It wasn’t that she was inept at speaking. On the contrary, she was articulate and precise, but only when she was on the clock.
After that, her joy lay in quiet routines. Unwinding at home with her cat curled beside her, the heater humming softly, a book open in her lap to pass the time.
Maybe it was unorthodox for a woman her age.
But she already knew she was different.
Her values didn’t align with crowded clubs and loud Friday nights.
“I just… don’t think I’d be fun to bring along,” Asa finally huffed.
The two girls pouted instantly.
“What?” Yuko said, her whiny tone somehow even more exaggerated now. “You’re tons of fun, Asa! That’s why we’re inviting you!”
“It’s true,” Fumiko added, nodding in agreement.
Yuko snapped her fingers and pointed at Asa as if she had just made a brilliant discovery.
“See? Even Fumiko agrees! So just—”
“But,” the black-haired woman cut in, interrupting her bespectacled coworker, “at the end of the day, we can’t force her.”
Yuko sputtered, and Asa couldn’t help but glance at Fumiko in surprise.
They never gave up this easily. Usually, the nagging went on for at least another ten minutes.
Something was definitely—
“She just hates us, I suppose.”
Asa groaned internally.
“I mean,” Fumiko continued in a matter-of-fact voice, stepping away from the desk and slowly circling Asa, “that’s the only explanation I can think of. Here we are, her two best friends, begging her to give us one night of her time, and she doesn’t even have the heart to indulge us.”
Catching on instantly, Yuko grinned and joined in.
“You’re right, Fumiko,” she said, turning in her chair so she could lean over the back of it. “That must be it. She secretly detests us. That’s why she never wants to spend any time with us outside of work.”
“In that case, I suppose we’ll just have to settle for crumbs, right, Yuko?”
“Of course. We loyal subjects must be grateful for whatever Queen Asa decides to give us, even if it’s nothing.”
“Oh, the agony. What a cruel, cold-hearted mistress we have.”
“And yet, I cannot—”
“If,” Asa interrupted, her voice strained as she resisted the urge to shout at both of them, “I agree to go out this one night, will you stop pestering me?”
They froze.
Then slowly turned to look at each other, as if confirming they had heard correctly.
Asa immediately regretted opening her mouth as they stared at her like she had spoken another language.
“Did I hear that right?” Yuko asked.
Asa’s eye twitched.
“Decide now before I—”
They squealed and lunged forward, hugging her before she could dodge.
“Months, Asa, months!” Fumiko exclaimed, squeezing her just a bit too tightly.
“Oh, you sweet thing!” Yuko chimed, equally suffocating, “We have so much to show you! I promise, this is going to be the best night of your life!”
“G-get… off… me!”
They pulled back, but before she could fully recover, they grabbed her by the shoulders.
“Alright,” Fumiko beamed, “be ready by ten at the latest. We’ll come pick you up.”
“…You don’t have a car.”
The two giggled.
“Taxi, babe,” Yuko said, and Asa felt a small, involuntary twinge of embarrassment.
Yuko noticed immediately.
“Look,” she continued, “tonight is your night. We’re going to treat you to the best Kyoto nightlife has to offer.”
Internally, Asa doubted it could be all that impressive, but… whatever.
“What she said,” Fumiko added. “Just focus on getting everything done and doll yourself up before we get there.”
A faint blush crept onto Asa’s face.
“W-what? I’m not… I’m not trying to get with anyone!” she sputtered.
“No one said anything about that,” Fumiko assured her. “But trust us, on nights like this, you’ll want to look your best. There’s no better feeling than knowing you look good.”
“That being said, you could easily land, like, anyone,” Yuko added, giving her a very obvious once-over. “If that’s what you were worried about.”
She wasn’t.
She knew, objectively and quite humbly, that she wasn’t unattractive by normal standards. It just… didn’t matter to her.
This was the peak of her career, for crying out loud.
The last thing she needed was to get distracted by some boy.
Maybe some naïve, foolish part of her mind craved it, but she knew better.
She knew what men were like.
She knew what they wanted.
And she wanted nothing to do with them.
She was a successful and goal-driven woman.
The last thing she needed was some loudmouthed, crass idiot derailing everything she had built.
“…It’s not,” she said. “But… fine. Just don’t expect anything crazy. I’ll put on something nice, okay?”
“Well, if you want my honest opinion, everything you put on is—”
Fumiko elbowed her.
“Perfect,” she finished smoothly. “Now hurry up and get ready. I cannot tell you how excited I am for tonight.”
Asa wasn’t exactly excited, but… who knows. Maybe she would have some fun.
Denji was born sometime in 2001, in a rural part of Japan.
He never truly knew his parents, though he was fairly certain they had taken care of him for at least the first few years of his life. If he tried hard enough, he could just barely recall the face of the woman he believed to be his mother.
Whatever the case was, by the time he was three, he had been handed over to child protective services.
He was placed in a group home, sharing a room with a handful of other boys just like him.
He didn’t like any of them.
When he was thirteen, they finally found a foster family willing to take him in.
Mrs. Makima had recently lost her husband, but due to her considerable wealth and spotless background, she was deemed more than capable of raising two children on her own, one of whom was her biological daughter, much younger than Denji at just five years old.
Throughout the entire interview process, the only thing Denji could think about was how pretty she was.
For once, he thought his life was finally starting to look up.
It wasn’t.
By the time he was sixteen, he had made his preparations. One night, he fled with his now little sister, Nayuta, into the nearby forest, retrieving a hidden stash that held just enough money to get them halfway across the country.
At seventeen, he was living in Kyoto, doing whatever he could to scrape together enough money to support both himself and his sister.
Those efforts eventually led to him getting caught dumpster diving in an alley by a tall man.
By eighteen, he had become a full-time employee at Hayakawa’s Auto Repair, working the register and earning just enough to pay rent while living under his boss’s roof, with Nayuta by his side.
At twenty, he finally received his high school diploma.
A year ago, at twenty-three, he completed a three-year vocational program, allowing him to work directly in the repair shop as a mechanic.
Now, at twenty-four, finally having moved out and getting his own place at a nearby apartment complex, Denji felt like he was almost accomplished in life.
Almost.
There was still one thing he wanted.
A girlfriend.
He had one once, briefly, but it had ended in heartbreak.
Now, all he wanted was someone who genuinely liked him for who he was.
And also, maybe someone who was really hot.
“I friggin’ reek,” Denji complained, his work shirt completely covered in soot and grime.
During an oil change gone wrong, he had spilled nearly half the container on himself, much to everyone else’s amusement and very much not his own.
“Well, you only have yourself to blame,” Yoshida mused, his own uniform dirtied, but nowhere near as bad.
“You reek either way,” Power added, idly humming one of the songs she had recently become obsessed with.
“You’re one to talk,” Denji shot back.
The trio remained slumped on a bench outside, exhausted from the day’s work.
The main garage doors had already been shut, signaling they were closed for the night. With only a few minor tasks left inside, they would be off the clock soon.
The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the lot. For a brief moment, the three of them simply sat there, unwinding and letting the day fade behind them.
They were all around the same age, though Denji had only recently joined them at the shop.
Yoshida had started working there right away after earning his credentials, going straight into the well-reviewed establishment. The guy just really liked cars.
Power had taken a less direct path. Before turning to a trade, she had briefly tried becoming a hairstylist. She realized very quickly that she preferred working on her own hair and switched to mechanics instead.
Her bubblegum-pink hair stood out sharply against the grime of the garage, almost out of place in the best way.
Before Denji could dwell on it any longer, the side door creaked open, and the familiar sight of a topknot stepped through.
“Hayakawa, sir,” Yoshida greeted, nodding toward their boss.
Power and Denji gave casual waves.
“Yo.”
“Sup.”
The older man sighed, looking at them with striking blue eyes and his classically stoic expression.
After his parents’ sudden passing, he had been left in charge of the business. His brother had no interest in taking it over, leaving the responsibility entirely to him.
Despite that, the two were still on good terms.
“I’m heading out for the day,” he informed them. “The register’s taken care of, so just make sure to lock everything up before you leave. I’m sure you guys have plans as well.”
“You got plans?” Power asked.
“Of course he does!” a cheery voice interrupted as Himeno practically burst through the door, her energy far too high for the hour.
She latched onto his arm, her smile dazzling despite the missing eye. Not that he was saying it looked bad, of course. It was badass. It was just that she never let it bother her at all.
“We’re going to have quite the romantic night out!” she beamed, tugging him slightly.
“Himeno—” he started.
“I mean, seriously,” she continued, “he may act all tough, but he can be quite the charmer. He’s planned a lovely evening for us. First, some fine dining, then a stroll through the prettiest parts of the city, and once we get home, I’m taking this gentleman straight to—”
“Himeno!” he barked.
She laughed as his face flushed red, and Denji couldn’t help but feel happy for them.
Back when he had lived with him, she came over so often she might as well have been their fourth roommate. And while Denji liked her, he was more than happy to give them their privacy.
Neither he nor Nayuta had any interest in dealing with paper-thin walls anymore.
The employees watched in amusement as their boss tried to compose himself.
“Whatever the case, hurry it up,” he muttered. “You look more like loiterers than actual workers.”
“Of course, sir,” Yoshida replied, ever the bootlicker, already on his feet.
“Whatever you say, boss man,” Denji added, giving a mock salute as he begrudgingly stood.
Power only offered a grunt.
Aki rolled his eyes as the woman clinging to him giggled.
“I’ll see you all on Monday.”
They called out their goodbyes as the pair made their way to his car.
“You’d think they’d be married by now,” Yoshida remarked once they had driven off.
“Marriage is a scam,” Power replied matter-of-factly. “Topknot has the foresight to know that.”
“Don’t call him Topknot, dude.”
She blew a raspberry in response.
“Regardless,” Yoshida continued, “on the subject of plans, I wanted to ask, do either of you have any for tonight?”
Power stopped blowing spit in Denji’s direction and turned to look at him instead.
A slow grin spread across her face.
“You wanna go out tonight?” she asked, excitement already leaking through.
“Well, I was planning on going out anyway with some friends of mine,” Yoshida said with a shrug, “but I figured I’d extend the invitation to you two as well.”
He turned to Denji.
“So, do you want to join?”
“I, uh—”
“Duh!” Power cut in, slinging an arm around Denji’s shoulders and nearly tipping him sideways from the height difference. “It’s been ages since we’ve all gone out.”
“It’s been a month,” Yoshida corrected.
“Ages.”
He hummed in response as Denji tried to get a word in.
The truth was, he really didn’t want to go tonight.
He was tired. All he really wanted was a quiet night in.
Just him, his couch, whatever was on TV, and a tub of ice cream.
Who knows. Maybe if Nayuta didn’t have plans, she could join him.
“Look,” he began, shrugging off Power’s arm, much to her visible offense, “you guys can go without me. I’m not feeling it tonight.”
“That so?” Yoshida asked.
“Yeah, sorry. You guys can go—”
“Oh, shut up,” Power interrupted. “You’re coming, whether you like it or not.”
Denji just stared.
“Uh, no?” he said.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yup.”
“I’m not.”
“But alas, you must.”
“Why?”
“’Cuz I said so.”
“…Yeah, still no.”
“Yoshida,” Power called, “convince this guy to come with us.”
The man in question stroked his chin, regarding Denji.
“You sure you don’t want to come?” he asked.
“Well, duh,” Denji replied. “That’s what I said.”
“That’s a shame.”
Denji raised an eyebrow.
“Never took you for the begging kind.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Yoshida clarified. “It’s just that, as I recall, you’ve been on a bit of a dry spell, right?”
The day they found his dating profile was one of the worst days of his life.
“T-that’s none of your business, dickhead!” Denji snapped.
Yoshida took a step back, raising his hands.
“Wasn’t my intention to intrude. I’m just saying, the club we’re going to tonight is infamous for its hookup culture.”
“Yeah, well I—” Denji paused, blinking.
“…Excuse me?”
“Perhaps that’s a crude way to put it,” Yoshida continued. “What I mean is, it caters more toward women than men. It’s actually quite difficult to get in without knowing someone, which I happen to. As a result, the few men who do get in tend to receive a lot of… what’s the word…action?”
“O-oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said, lightly tapping his chin. “Every time I’ve gone, I’ve had to turn down quite a few advances. I’m just not into that sort of thing. I can understand if you aren’t either, but my friend is, so that’s why we’re going.”
“…Cool.”
“Of course,” Yoshida added, turning back toward the shop, “it also has a great atmosphere. Good music, excellent drinks. But I understand it’s not for everyone.”
“Well, I, um, I—”
“Power,” he said, “let’s hurry up and finish here, alright? We need to be ready by ten, and—”
“Wait.”
Yoshida turned back to him.
Denji’s face was bright red, a few beads of sweat trailing down his temple.
“I can, uh…” He swallowed. “I-I can come.”
Yoshida smiled.
“Happy to hear it.”
As Denji very subtly scrambled inside and began sweeping like his life depended on it, he started thinking about the logistics for tonight.
It wasn’t like he was new to talking to girls. Far from it, believe it or not.
As a mechanic, you get a lot more numbers than you’d expect.
The only issue was that after a couple of messages, they always lost interest.
They never really got to see how fun he could be.
Tonight was the perfect opportunity for that.
Even if he was tired, party settings were his thing.
Hell, he could probably squeeze in a quick nap on the way there and wake up ready.
Tonight, he was going to wow someone.
But it had to be someone worth it.
The last thing he needed was to waste his time on some stuck-up, uptight jerk who’d ruin his night.
Fun.
Yeah, fun.
He was going to have fun, be fun, and find someone fun.
“Hey, moron,” Power interrupted, “you’re sweeping the same spot.”
He looked down and realized she was right.
“Crap.”