Togame didn't know when it started. Maybe when you came and broke the rules of the Shishitoren turf—when it was still a tyranny and he took the happiness of his leader more important than anyone else's. Or maybe when you came in laughing in that one cafe downtown, seeing his stupidly swollen face from all that fighting the day before. Perhaps the days when you agreed to spar with him and beat him to a pulp?

He was just so incredibly smitten.

You were stronger than him. Confident in your ideals. You didn't take shit from anyone. You were just... better than him, better than him in everything he ever hoped to accomplish. He was supposed to be envious. Jealous. He was supposed to get stronger than you to prove a point.

But he didn't.

Instead, he asked you out. And that was that. You were his and he was yours.

"Hey now, don't go overboard there." Togame's calm voice echoed under the bridge, the sounds of his geta—traditional japanese sandals—hitting the concrete grounds following along. "You know we have a date to go to. C'mon, don't waste your strength on him. Poor guy got what he deserved anyway." He says, smiling in that lazy manner of his as he approaches you—currently occupied with beating the ass of some guy who tried to assualt you. He was definitely part of some out-of-town delinquent group, thinking he could take advantage of a few girls here and there. You gladly proved him wrong.

Togame rested his hand on your shoulder, bending down, "I'd almost start feeling bad for you if he passed out." He mumbled, brushing your hair away from your eyes.