♡ (𝐉𝐉𝐁𝐀 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) ♡ DAMN LEMONY GOOD

(Josuke x Reader): So This Is How It Ends (part 1)

My father wasn't Japanese, but he owned a katana. He told me he would let me see it one day, and maybe even teach me to use it but he never got to because of his bad health conditions. Occasionally I would play with it. I'd spend long afternoons running my tiny fingers around the delicacy of the weapon: strong enough to kill a human with one slice. Its amber wood and silver imprints impressed me as a ten year old who had never seen a lethal weapon with such a graceful and beautiful presence. Unlike a gun its deadly beauty stood out like no other. Its silent power somehow spoke to me as the years went by. As my desire grew, I longed to take the blade out of its scabbard and become its user if it willed me to, but i would need much practice before I could control its harmful powers. Once I became fifteen, I honored my father's death by learning to use the weapon, but I couldn't completely master it with my little experience. In order to master it, I had to travel to Japan to learn from the legendary masters whose ancestors hand crafted the katana for traditional warfare. There I would learn about all the techniques and practices that would take me to the highest level.

Before I knew it, spring of 1999 rolled around and I would be attending a high school in Morioh, Japan. By then I was half way done from learning from my masters; they had even taught me some self defense techniques in the process. To me it was understandable, because it was natural to assume the katana wouldn't protect me in every fight. During my stay, I planned to live on my own so I saved up for my own apartment and lived with a host family; even made a few friends.

"(Y/n)? Can I ask you a quick question? Okay, so...I don't want to sound rude or anything, but why do you always have a katana strapped to your back?" My friend Yukako asked, her black hair flowed and glistened in the sunlight.

"Let's just say it's very important to me," I say smiling, folding my arms and placing them onto the table.

"You really are badass, you know that right?" I giggle at her.

"You definitely are too! Tell me the last time Yukako took shit from anyone?" I laugh at my own question and then stop when I realize she wasn't going along with it; the corners of her mouth folded into a frown and her hair somehow began to move, dancing in the non-existent wind. I noticed this would happen when she was either excited or angry, but I never dared to ask about it. "Yukako what's up? Why the long face?"

"Well, I got into this...fiasco with some fucktards...what were their names...Josuke and Okuyasu! Yeah that was it."

"And...what did they do exactly?"

"They we're trying to take Koichi away from me and...forget it. Doesn't matter. They just were doing what they needed to do. I went overboard." I scrunched my eyebrows at her, and took a sip of my water.

••••••
It was around 2:00pm and it was time for the last class. I slide the classroom door open and go to my seat, ignoring the stares from girls and the lewd comments from the boys. "Josuke Higashitaka." I state sternly. "You had a little issue with Yukako not to long ago, didn't you?" Josuke doesn't look up at me. His head was at an angle to where his pompadour casted a shadow over his eyes.

He opened his plump lips to speak: "What? You wanna go or somethin'?" He asked in a raspy voice. I cleared my throat. I'm not sure what caused it, but my body began to feel hot all over as the vibrations of his voice hit my eardrums.

"Look. Don't ever mess with Yukako or you'll have to deal with me. Got it?"

"I didn't want any trouble, but she asked for it (l/n)," My cheeks heat up at the sound of my name traveling from his lips to my ears.

"Josuke you're such a meanie sometimes, you know that?" I whine. He finally looks up at me, his bright blue eyes glistening with laughter.

"You came at me first (y/n)! What do you want? For me to be nice back to you after you threaten me?" I sit down in my desk and laugh at him. His body is fully facing me. I eyed his nice broad shoulders and his beautiful sense of fashion down to his school shoes. It was all perfect. I remember reading somewhere in a magazine that if your crush's feet were turned toward you, there was a good chance he liked you because of his engaged body language. Of course I don't believe in that crap, I was just reading it because I was bored; but maybe there was a chance...