Touch | tokrev x reader

01: CRYBABY

𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝟔, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟓

Your knuckles throbbed, and a dull ache pulsed in your leg as you pushed yourself off the dusty ground. You smoothed out your rumpled skirt and brushed off your scuffed knee socks, the grime a reminder of the unexpected brawl. Hunger gnawed at your stomach — it must be late afternoon by now, the missed lunch only amplifying your frustration. Today had taken a sharp turn, and all you wanted was to get back to school and find out who orchestrated this ambush.

A fierce determination hardened your gaze. "Whoever set me up," you growled under your breath, "you'll regret it."
Four figures sprawled pathetically at your feet, their groans and pleas echoing through the alley. They'd clearly underestimated you, their faces bruised and sweat dripping down their foreheads.

"Spare me the apologies," you scoffed, clicking your tongue in annoyance. "Just stay out of my sight, or next time won't be so forgiving."

A chorus of desperate "Yes, ma'ams!" followed you as you stalked away. Being underestimated because of your gender was a constant irritation, but today, it had fueled your resilience. The world expected girls to be passive, confined to a narrow definition of femininity. Yet, you were proof that defied those limitations. Girls could fight, could be strong, could be anything they set their minds to. You had just proven that to four clueless boys with broken noses.

You clenched your fists tightly as you made your way back to school, cursing yourself for forgetting your bag when a classmate unexpectedly asked to meet at the back of the school. Little did you know, it was a trap set by those four boys who had dragged you out of the school and down the alleyway. You felt deceived.

"How could he?" you muttered to yourself, frustration evident in your voice, as you continued your walk to school. Crossing your arms over your chest, you ignored the greetings from fellow students heading home. It must have been hours since then. You remembered it was lunchtime when you were dragged out of school.

"KILL HIM KIYOMASA!"

"WHAT'S WRONG HANAGAKI?!"

"ONE PUNCH BETTER NOT BE ENOUGH TO TAKE YOU OUT!"

You paused when you heard a commotion, though you typically paid little attention to these juvenile fights. However, as Hanagaki's name was mentioned, your feet began to move of their own accord. You saw a group of high school delinquents gathered around, witnessing an unfair fight between Kiyomasa and Takemichi, and you headed towards the group of teens.

"That's enough Takemichi!"

"Just stop. You're gonna die!"

You shifted your gaze to the opposite side, noticing Takemichi's friends being restrained by larger guys to prevent them from intervening in the fight.

Takemichi was on his knees, blood streaming down his cheeks, head bowed low.

It was evident that he had already suffered severe injuries from Kiyomasa, yet he showed no signs of giving up. You remained silent, your attention fixed on the unfolding fight, struggling to resist the urge to intervene. He had already cautioned you against helping him again, and you knew he wouldn't appreciate it if you intervened. After all, you were Takemichi's cousin, a figure well-known in the school, while Takemichi himself remained in your shadow as the lesser-known second Hanagaki.

"KILL HIM, KIYOMASA-KUN!"

Everyone was rooting for Kiyomasa, who clearly had the upper hand in this unjust match.