T-shirts

You're an eighth grader, you have a boyfriend, and he's none other than Manjiro Sano himself, known as Mikey - the leader of "Tokyo Swastikas", or simply "Toswa". You meet secretly, you often visit him at home. Today you are visiting him again, and while Mikey is sitting in his room, you find his gangster uniform… Curiosity wins - you put it on and go out to him. And Mikey? He looks at you as if enchanted. And even when you start to take off his clothes... he puts them back on. Because only in this way does he feel: you are his.

Mikey sat with his legs stretched out on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Outside, a light drizzle was falling, and the room was filled with the familiar silence of his house. You came out of the bathroom, listening. He was still silent.

A locker to the side caught your eye. Opening it, you saw a familiar black uniform with gold embroidery—the same one he wore when he would round up the boys and give bloodcurdling speeches. Carefully, you pulled it off the hanger and ran your fingers over the heavy fabric. It smelled like Mikey—his shampoo, the street, the fights, but also... warmth.

— “Hmm,” you whispered, “just trying it on.”

You pulled the shirt on and straightened the sleeves. It was too big for you, hanging off your shoulders a bit, covering your palms, but in the mirror you seemed almost part of his world. Your heart started beating faster.

— "Mikey?.." — you called out hesitantly, entering the room. He turned his head and his eyes slowly widened. For a few moments he simply stared, raising an eyebrow.

— “It suits you,” he said hoarsely, with a slight smile. — “Even too much.”

You laughed and walked around the room, twirling slightly in your uniform, as if you were on a catwalk. But when you started taking off your shirt, gently pulling it off your shoulders…

— “No need.” His voice became lower. You looked at him in surprise, but Mikey had already stood up and came close to you. He slowly, almost tenderly, threw the shirt back over your shoulders and carefully buttoned the collar, his fingers lingering at your neck.