Love/Hate (Lemon GarouxReader 🍋)

Prodigal

Author's Note: If you're still reading, thank you :)

~*~

Everyone is tired. Everyone and everything is so, so tired, Charanko sighs as he glances up at the sky, barely shielding his eyes with his hand. Even the sun. He stands there, looking up at the gauzy dark blue clouds, the sun dozing quietly behind them on this autumn afternoon, the broom paused in his hand.
He breaks away from the sky and turns his head towards Master Bang's house sitting a little behind and to the side of the dojo.
It has been almost a week since that terrible night and his master has not been the same, locked away in his house, possibly not even aware of Charanko's presence.
The blond hapless young man was lost at first, confused. Would knock softly on his master's door, requesting instructions on what should be done but would receive no answer.
And so over the coming days he'd found himself naturally taking on responsibilities. Washing the dojo steps, sweeping the courtyard of stray golden and blazing red leaves that seemed to reappear every day in abundance, even running his Fist of Flowing Water Crushed Rock drills and doing his stretches all on his own in the empty dojo.
And without realising it, he had found himself walking a little more upright, shoulders a little more back. Something more forward and meaningful in his posture, no longer cruising aimlessly through life.
But Master Bang... Charanko sighs again, the only outlet for his concern, before carrying on with the leaves, his only companions these last few days, well, there is nothing to be done there except to wait and hope.

Bang sits in the meditation room on the second floor of his house, passed down through generations. He sits in the dark, in the cold. He cannot bring himself to speak or eat. His mind has never felt so lost, so helpless. He rests his lined forehead in his hands, eyes wide, staring at nothing.
Following that night, following Garou's disappearance, the Hero Association had kept him, questioning him over and over, pressing him to hand over Garou's whereabouts, almost as if he himself had been an accomplice to the young man's madness.
But he had said nothing.
The shock had caught up with him, with his body. He could barely understand where he was and what he was being asked. He could not focus. He could not think. Only images of his beloved pupil covered in blood, broken and defeated flooded his mind. His beloved pupil on the brink of death and how he himself, in his rage, had laid hands on him. Never truly meaning to kill him but the feeling of Garou's body breaking further under his hands sickened him. Sickens him now.
He has never felt so enraged, so frustrated, so disgusted with himself.
He has never felt so old.
Realising they were not going to get anything out of him, the Hero Association had let him return home the next day, Sitch's conscience strained for interrogating the suddenly frail looking old man.
Having always been a man of action, Bang for the first time, feels helpless in this new, frightening paralysis, his weary mind trying to put everything in order and failing again and again.
He has barely slept or eaten. He is very vaguely conscious of Charanko's presence but cannot grasp it or attribute any significance to it right now, as sorry as he is. Charanko is a good man, if not a strong one.
Bang's old mind feels too overwhelmed, like there are countless threads to pick up and weave together to make sense of what had led up to that fateful night, and he feels like he is no longer up to the task.
Where to even start? From the day Garou wreaked havoc on his dojo last winter or the months leading up to that when he had noticed a new agitated restlessness in the young man? Or even before that, when Garou had pressed him over and over to teach him more and more advanced skills and attacks? Or even before that?
And then there were his own attitudes, practices and expectations to explore. Their merits and morality. His own role in all of this.
Everything in his mind was in disarray, like he was grasping at terrible blood-soaked straws. Where to even begin?

Ryo keeps running up to the balcony of your apartment, throwing open the door and letting in the cold breeze, checking eagerly and diligently for the arrival of Hiro and Grandpa.
"Hey!" you call after him after the seventh or eighth time. "You're going to catch a cold!" You scoop him in your arms as he runs back in. "They'll be here soon, I promise. And you, Mister, need to put a warmer jumper on," you say, kissing the top of his head before letting him go and handing him his thick sweater with the stegosaurus on it which he quickly pulls on with none of his usual protest which leaves you a little surprised.
In a way, you wish he would protest. That he would complain about things like he used to.
While you appreciate the constant obedience, it seems out of character for him and you lightly wonder if it's a bad sign. However, after a week of Tomo's visits, his demeanor and body language has become noticeably more relaxed and you decide not to overthink it. You trust Tomo and that if anything suddenly did come up, that she would inform you. And so you choose to believe that he'll be back to running away from bath time and hiding his jumpers from you again soon enough.
"What time did they say they're coming?" your dad asks, coming into the living room. He tries to sound casual, nonchalant, but you can feel a nervous strain in his voice, a waft of high strung anxiety.
"Did you iron that shirt?" You stare at him, mouth open. "And did you shave?"
You don't remember the last time your easy-going father has looked so presentable.
"Well, I mean-" he begins to get defensive but it comes across as meek. "I gotta shave sometime, don't I?"
Well, sure, you think. But right before Grandpa arrives?
"Does Grandpa scare you that much?" you ask without thinking, genuinely curious.
"No!" your dad says with far too much exasperation before almost jumping at the sound of a car outside. He can't backtrack from that so mumbles something about something and disappears quickly back down the hall.
"Why is dad scared of Grandpa?" Ryo asks, confused.
You feel a bit bad for putting your dad on the spot like that.
"He's not scared," you reassure Ryo, though you know you're lying. "They just haven't seen each other in a while."
Your mother had been a country girl, and the apple of her father's eye. But she wanted to see more of the world and had headed over to the city while her older brother, your uncle, stayed behind. You're aware that your grandfather had never really approved of the city life and so when your parents announced their engagement, it seems like Grandpa finally found someone to blame for keeping his daughter from coming back home, only later begrudgingly admitting that she was, indeed, happy.
He had never thought much about your dad either way. He came from a working class family, had never gone to university, but he seemed like a kind and stable individual. Not the kind of man he would have chosen for his daughter, for there were much better, stronger, agriculturally-minded bachelors close to home, but it was what it was. He himself had not been the first choice of his wife's family, so what could he say?
Their relationship grew to be cordial if a little strained. But that strain only seemed to deepen, breaking any bond that had slowly formed following her unexpected passing. He had not blamed your father for the death of his daughter. That was no one's fault. But he could not look at the man with any respect after the way he had completely broken down, unable to care for his family or provide a stable home after the tragedy.
You did not know this, but more than once your grandfather had berated your father, ordering him to turn you and Ryo over to him, to somewhere where you could live a more secure, peaceful life. But for once, your father would have none of it. Stood up to his small-statured yet intimidating father-in-law. He could not and would not give you up. You two were the only things that kept him from complete collapse. Something frightening and unexpected had taken his wife and no one would take his kids from him too.
"They're here!!" Ryo shouts at the sound of a car pulling up outside, and finally, he is right. "They're here!" he calls out again with glee as he runs to the balcony and leans over the railing, waiving deliriously and you race after him, pulling him back a bit for safety's sake.
"Hey you two!" Hiro gives a big full-armed wave back as he walks around the other side of the car to open the door for Grandpa.
"Hiro onii-chan!!" Ryo almost jumps with excitement as you grin down at him.
You watch Grandpa get slowly out of the car with his cane as he squints at you and Ryo.
"Look at them fancy city-slickers," he shakes his head as he grins back slyly at the two of you.
"I'll come down and help!" you call out to Hiro and race down before he can reply, telling Ryo to wait there on your way.
He's disappointed because he wants to run downstairs too but follows your instructions.
When you get downstairs, which doesn't take long at all from your second-floor apartment, Grandpa is holding out a big plastic tupperware box wrapped up in a large napkin for you.
"Daikon," he says, nodding gravely and drops it into your hands.
"Oh," you blink as its weight surprises you, makes you tense your muscles as it lands in your hands so you don't drop it. "Thank you!"
You guess you'll be eating pickled daikon for a while.
Your Grandpa looks a little out of place in his traditional clothes out here in front of your apartment building and you begin to realise the gulf between his lifestyle and yours, somewhat admiring him for his convictions.
"Do you need help going up the stairs?" You ask, shifting the box to one hand, balancing it delicately as you offer to take his arm with the other.
"I'm fine, girl. I'm fine," he grumbles and shakes you off affectionately. "Let's go."
Ryo is almost bursting with impatience by the time you reach your door, your Grandpa moving slowly at his own pace up the steps, cane thudding rhythmically.
"Grandpaaaa!" Ryo almost bowls him over as he throws his little arms around the old man.
For once, Grandpa is taken by surprise and you see an expression of pure calm joy on his features as he pats Ryo on the back with his free hand before his brow furrows playfully again as Ryo lets go.
"Look at you boy, eh?" He holds Ryo an arm's length away to get a good look at him. "Getting big and strong, ain't you?"
"Yeah!" Ryo looks at him like an excited, adorable puppy. "And I do martial arts now too!" His words rush out of his mouth before he can stop himself. But once they're out, his glowing face drops for a moment. Voice grows quieter. "I mean, I used to," he corrects himself.
"Is that so?" Grandpa's own face lights up at the news. "You going to tell me all-"
"Fujiyama-san!" Your dad suddenly appears. He looks somewhat awkward, his voice a bit stilted.
Grandpa straightens up to his full height, though it's not much, and sniffs gravely, his thin mustache and goatee twitching as he rests both hands on his cane like some sort of important lord.
"Welcome," your dad says, his nervousness palpable. And then, to your utmost surprise, he bows.
Even Grandpa can't hide a flash of surprise before his face turns stony again.
When your dad straightens up again it is his turn to be surprised. Your grandfather holding out his knotted, wrinkled hand to him.
Your dad hesitates for a moment before taking it, a firm handshake, a seed of some sort of understanding, unplanned by either of the two men.
"Ah!" Your father suddenly releases his hand, seeing Hiro coming in with all the bags. "Let me help you with that!" He rushes to take a bag from Hiro before Hiro drops them all and grabs your dad in a bear hug, happy to see his uncle.
"I ain't seen you in forever!" Hiro's wide smile could light up the whole room. And then it's your turn to be bear-hugged and lifted up off the ground before he saves the best for last, picking up Ryo high into the air as the boy laughs in delight.
"Onee-chan!" Ryo suddenly has the best idea ever. "Can Grandpa stay in my room?!" He is abuzz with excitement.
You exchange looks with your dad. It had been decided that your dad would move in with Ryo and let your grandfather have his room for the next few days and Hiro would share with you.
"We've prepared the bedroom for your grandfather-" Your dad starts, kindly but firmly.
"Too much fuss," your Grandpa frowns, waving his hand around. "Too much fuss! I'll stay with my grandson."
"Yeah!" Ryo's eyes are as wide as saucers.
"But," you remind Ryo, "we don't have an extra bed for Grandpa."
"It's okay! I can sleep on the floor on the futon and Grandpa can have my bed!" Ryo begs.
"What the hell am I?" Grandpa gruffs. "The princess and the pea? You," he points his cane at your freshly-dressed dad. "You sleep wherever you sleep. I'm going to stay with my grandson," he says. Then looks at you. "On the futon," he adds. And that's final. And you know you can't argue.
"Stubborn as ever," you mutter, shaking your head with a smile as you lead Hiro down the hall to your room.
"Yeah, you know gramps," he shrugs with a laugh.
"Are you sure you're okay sleeping on the futon?" you ask as he sets his bag down in the corner of your room. "I'm happy to swap!"
"Nah, don't you worry about it!" he assures you. "This is more than fine, eh! I've slept on much worse before," he says. "Much, much worse," he shakes his head, a haunted look in his eyes, and you decide you won't ask.