"That Time of the Month"

Shoji x Ojiro

Basically an experiment of how far you can stretch a headcanon.

This one's for you @kurojupiter ⭐️
The sunrise that morning had been nothing less than sublime; a piping hot cup of oolong sat on a low table as the sun slowly peeked and rose above the treeline, light reflecting off the ripples in the drink showered the room in brilliant sunbeams.
The sky couldn’t seem to decide what shade it wanted to be as it danced between purple, teal, and a vivid orange, so it settled into a mixed sorbet of dazzling pastels only occasionally blocked by puffy cotton candy-swirled clouds.
The bliss of dawn was punctuated by floral notes from the wafting tea and the world sat in a lovely warm haze, seemingly frozen in that perfect, delicate balance.

And Shoji had been able to witness it all. He had brewed the tea almost in the dark before the sun was even up.
It was a small luxury to have a single moment of peace and quiet in the common room that was almost constantly abuzz with various levels of pandemonium. Instead of shouting or laughing, there were only frog songs and the quiet whispers of birds.
He had spent hours watching as the world came alive inside and out.

As soon as the fireflies disappeared, sparrows took wing.
The rest of the class began shuffling in one-by-one, some mumbling and groaning, others bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as they sought out a valuable slice of couch real estate and sprawled themselves into their own ideas of how to spend a quality weekend morning.
Absolutely nothing could ruin the moment.
“It’s that time of the month, Shoji.”

Just like that, his poetic mental train derailed, killing millions of his brain cells all at once in a tragic turn of events that would surely be memorialized and sung about in fables and tales of old. It was never meant to last.
He built up the courage to look up from where he had been minding his own business, absorbed in his own world of steeping tea leaves, to gaze with several wandering eyes at Hagakure’s hidden form.
To anyone else, she might’ve been just a snarky set of haunted pajamas, but with his quirk, Shoji could actually make out where she was. More accurately, he could pinpoint with his many eyes the exact points where she was not.
His depth perception was tenfold that of normal people when his quirk was active, so any irregularities stood out like a sore thumb. Hagakure might’ve been invisible to everyone else, but to the giant it was like seeing a shimmer in the light, almost like an angel.
Assumptions could be made, but he hoped that she wasn’t some sort of god-sent guardian, because if he had to guess, her warning of “It’s that time of the month” had very few interpretations.
“First, good morning,” the giant sighed, cordial enough. “Second, I hope that you’re not implying what that sentence would mean to anyone else.”
“Oh, I do.”

She said it like a threat. Lives were on the line. “We need to talk.”
The cushions were becoming uncomfortable as Shoji squirmed to try and readjust himself to get situated for a morning lecture. “Hagakure, the sun is barely up, can this possibly wai-”
“Shoji, listen.” There was something off about her tone. It wasn’t sad or angry, just...agitated, maybe. Not quite irritation, but somewhere on the road approaching it.

“You love your friends, right?”
His friends? “Yes.”

“And you would do everything in your power to make sure that nothing ever happened to them, right?”

“Then, /listen/.” She crouched down on the floor next to him. “And I mean /really/ listen and tell me if anything sounds weird to you.”
Hopefully she could read his facial expressions behind his mask, because if she could, she would know that Shoji was completely lost to whatever sort of riddle she was trying to rope him into. She had him at a distinct disadvantage when it came to the expressions department.
And the way she was talking was so cryptic for such an early hour, he was unsure of whether to take her seriously or not.

“You’ve got ears, Shoji,” she stated deadpan. “/Many/ ears. Literally as many as you want. You’ll know it when you hear it, but just-.../listen/.”
The giant leaned back into the chair with a huff and a defeated sigh. When she was on the warpath like she was now, Hagakure had the tenacity of a woman scorned. Nobody, not even Mina, could calm her down once she began her total-war mentality of dealing with a problem.
And so he stretched, reaching his arms out far and wide, expanding and splitting his limbs to accommodate the frantic growth of many new appendages, ears growing like fruit on a tree.
With his eyes closed, he didn’t have to focus on anything other than the here and now. He could still detect the light notes of tea amidst the dark, but with it came new sensations.

Hagakure had been right. There was something off.
Was it scratching? Clawing? It sounded like a colony of rats was trying to bore their way through the walls. It was distinct and repetitive in series of 3’s, a *pat* *tat* *tat* that echoed against his ear drums like nails on a chalkboard.
The problem was that the noises seemed to be moving, going up and down, back and forth without any kind of pattern, no rhyme or reason to their absurd movements.
They were beginning to get much closer, too, the doppler of the noise growing in volume, almost uncontrollably and Shoji relented, withdrawing his arms back into him.
It didn’t help. Maybe it was because he was more attuned to seek out the disturbance, but he could hear the pattering now without his quirk even being active. It wasn’t quite so deafening, but the fact that it was getting louder was still disconcerting.
And then all at once, it was over. Shoji’s eyes were still closed and his brows furrowed and jaw clenched as he sought it out, but it had vanished.
“Mezo? Good morning?”
Shoji’s eyes shot open at the intrusion of the new voice.

Thank God one of his senses was working in his favor, because the visual stimulus was a sight for sore eyes and a remedy for his ears.
Even with a concerned frown on his face, Ojiro always had a sunshine effect on him. Shoji’s heart stopped its anxious racing and calmed down with just a few honeyed words.
Now /this/ is how he really wanted to start his day, he thought. Shoji might’ve even been tempted to say it out loud, but he wouldn’t want the sun to get jealous.

He still wanted to take his sweet little lion boy out to watch it set later and he couldn’t risk offending it.
Speaking of, Ojiro’s questions still hung limp and unanswered in the air.

“Good morning to you too, Mashirao.” Saying Ojiro’s given name like that always made Shoji’s heart warm, and it was even better when he saw the boy’s frown melt away when he continued.
“I’m fine. Hagakure was just joining me for a little morning tea.”

“TEA is right!” She coughed, making the giant flinch. He was so blinded by the halo of Ojiro’s hair that he had forgotten that she was still there, too.
He had simple pleasures and he knew just how soft that hair was, so how could he blame himself for getting lost in it?
“Yeah, well, that’s great and all,” Hagakure huffed. “Lovey-dovey gay shit aside, the two of us were just wondering about a certain /irritating/ sound, is all.”
“Oh, uh, really?” Ojiro mumbled back. The invisible girl seemed to be inching closer and closer, invading his personal space to the point that he had to take a step back.

And Shoji jumped when he heard the *pat* *tat* *tat* again.
“Yeah, NO IDEA what sound you’re talking about, hehe.” The blond was growing visibly uncomfortable to the point where his lips were pulled taut and quivering. His short laughs were guilty in anybody’s eyes, he was that obvious.

Hagakure really was creeping in and, invisible or not, it probably would’ve been funny how much Ojiro was cowing under her if it wasn’t for Shoji’s concern that the boy’s shaky legs might give out, but his concern almost died when-
*pat* *tat* *tat*

Ojiro’s hands shot up in surrender when Shoji hopped up, too.

Hauling ass out of a room that fast could’ve won Ojiro an olympic medal. He had bounced on his tail like a spring and launched himself over both of their heads and landed with much fanfare amongst his classmates as he bolted out of the room, trailed only shortly behind +
+by the clinking pattering sound.

Shoji stared slack-jawed at the exact spot where Ojiro had landed from his aerial front-flip of an escape as he contemplated what just happened.
“See, Shoji? It’s that time of the month.”

He was only now collecting together the flashes of images from that moment to create one cohesive memory. The worry in Ojiro’s voice, the way he ran. Shoji hadn’t looked down, but he would’ve bet that the blond wasn’t wearing any shoes.
“Don’t worry, Shoji. I’ll be right there with you the whole way.” She was so kind. Shoji really wasn’t sure if he had it in him to do it by himself. The entire rest of the day, whatever he had planned, would have to take a backseat to this terrible grievance.
A quick shake of his head was all he had to offer. He had forgotten all about it. It really WAS that time of the month. Thankfully, Hagakure was there to be his voice or else his dry mouth wouldn’t have been able to string words together.

“It’s time to trim Ojiro’s claws.”
Usually, scratching and tapping could be heard about every month or so and would continue for about a week before Ojiro finally stopped sulking and finally cut his claws himself, but these occasions were only after many complaints from their classmates.
The whole process wasn’t so much a problem of difficulty in the trimming process. It really never was, just time-consuming and soul-crushing.

It would definitely be a struggle to get Ojiro to cooperate, per usual.
When Ojiro had finally been convinced to let Shoji meet his parents, his mother had pulled the giant aside (after his father had threatened him about taking proper care of their boy) and given him a warm hug and it was at that point that Shoji asked her about the process.
In theory, a walk in the park.

In practice, like trudging barefoot and blindfolded through every single layer of Hell.
Shoji had learned during the first attempt that his boyfriend was both a lover AND a fighter.

He wasn’t content to just sit and possibly be given a mini pedicure while he received the proper attention for the task.
No, he would hiss and thrash violently as Shoji was forced to basically hold him in a full-nelson/headlock combo with half of his limbs while the other half went to town with the clippers.

But with Hagakure on his side? The potential for success was incalculable.
After Ojiro had fled the scene, the rest of the day was spent plotting how best to go about luring him back in. Hours slipped by, only occasionally interrupted by the distant but irritating clacking that they were both hoping to remedy.
They ran through a mental checklist and talked through their plans as the sun rose higher and higher in the sky, quietly observant of the scheming of two classmates just hoping for some peace and quiet.
High noon passed, followed intimately by the unwinding of the clock as time ticked minute-by-minute. Both Hagakure and Shoji were more than ready to initiate when they noticed that same *pat* *tat* *tat* return with a vengeance, as if it could try and catch them unaware.
Only Shoji was present in the common room when Ojiro finally peeked his head in, trying to be covert as he scanned for any signs of lurking danger. His concern was poorly hidden behind a half-cocked smile, but the dead giveaway was the jittery flicking of the bushy tail from +
+behind the blond’s back. Dark eyes were visibly slitted as they followed his nose from left to right, darting around to catch some unnoticed threat, but they were denied that “Eureka!” pleasure with the conclusion that Shoji was unarmed and relaxed.
Still jumpy, Ojiro finally sidled out from behind the wall and made his way towards the kitchen table where Shoji was sitting as if he hadn’t been drilling holes into the giant with his eyes just a second before.
At least for the moment, once Ojiro sat down and took a couple deep breaths, the agitated twitching of his tail had stopped enough for him to comfortably relax into the dining chair, even if still a little wary and stiff in the back.
Shoji understood his reasoning, of course. Ojiro knew as well as him what time of the month it was. The giant saw everything. The silver-haired cryptid had tried and failed to break the bad habit of watching his many classmates with curious eyes, but he tended to pinpoint +
+focus primarily on Ojiro. He’d apologized many times, but he simply couldn’t help himself.

And what a tantalizing sight the boy was.
Between his lithe cheetah-like body and his bright disposition, the only obstacle marring total perfection was the auditory damage Shoji took whenever those accursed claws dragged indentations into the hardwood floors.
But of course, that problem would soon be amended and Shoji would have his delightful ray of sunshine back to tip-top shape. It was only a matter of waiting for the perfect moment.
Luckily, Ojiro seemed to have gift-wrapped himself, because he had come and found his place at the table without any type of coercion or outside stimulus at all. Laid himself out on a gilded platter for his boyfriend to feast upon without restraint, if he played his cards right.
In this case, Shoji knew for a fact that he had the stronger hand and he would have that boy royally flushed as soon as those little beans were properly groomed.

And thus, the table was set.
“Welcome back, Mashirao,” Shoji cooed. His companion was still acting coy with his arms defensively crossed, so the giant made a show of leaning a couple elbows on the table while a couple other hands meandered across the expanse of its surface.
One hand provided the perfect roost for his cloaked jaw and he rested it as he looked at Ojiro with a tilted head and heavily lidded eyes. “I missed you earlier.”
It was a treat Shoji rarely afforded himself to taunt and tempt his sweet bedmate like this. To indulge him physically was one thing, but to arouse him mentally was a delight all on its own.
And, shamelessness recognized, the giant couldn’t help looking down to watch the blond squirm under his gaze. “You left in such a hurry earlier that I barely had a chance to talk with you. That pressing matter from earlier must have been really ‘important’.”
“Oh, sorry, Mezo,” Ojiro squeaked. If he wasn’t blushing so hard, Shoji might’ve thought he was making the blond uncomfortable, but he knew better.
When Ojiro was fidgeting like this, with his tail flitting across the rug and his nails tapping at his thighs, Shoji knew just the effect he was having.

Ojiro was putty in his hands. The poor kid couldn’t even maintain more than fleeting eye contact.
The sight was delicious. It almost made him a little jealous, the way Ojiro could sink his little teeth into his lower lip. Shoji wanted to replace those little nibbles with a love bite of his own.

There were more pressing matters.
Just a couple moments more.

Anyone else might’ve thought that they were just having a casual chat. It was no secret that they were dating, even if they kept the PDA to a minimum. Everybody would’ve just presumed that they were having a normal conversation.
Oh, but the undertones of their little chat. Each of them had barely uttered more than a sentence, but with Ojiro already on edge and Shoji prodding at the cracks in his defenses, there would be little time before the dam broke.
A single hand slithered over to rest on Ojiro’s knee, calming the nervous bouncing of his leg that had begun to shake the table.
“Mashirao.” Ojiro’s face was tomato-red and Shoji was elated to know that he had that reaction on him. Just breathing heavily through the mask could get the boy going.
Shoji snaked another hand over to just subtly twirl itself into Ojiro’s shirt, content with himself when his victim’s breath hitched.

Just a little bit more.
No sudden moves. The chair creaked ever so slightly as the giant lifted slowly from it to get his face just a few inches closer to Ojiro’s, invading his space enough so that the blond might be able to feel the exhale through the cloth mask. If he could just get a little more…
A third hand cut through the space between them and landed with a thud of Ojiro’s shoulder. Shoji could see the conflict behind Ojiro’s eyes, whether to stay or whether to go, fight or flight.
But when a final hand rested on Ojiro’s opposite shoulder, drawing him ever so slightly closer, Shoji saw the change as the dial moved from ‘be a good boy’ to ‘RUN’.
Now or never.

The two had already been swapping carbon dioxide from a rapidly thinning isthmus of air between their faces, so Shoji just had to take the jump.
So he leapt across the table towards Ojiro right at the moment that the blond had begun scrambling to extricate himself and make a mad dash for the exit, tackling the boy to the ground in a tangle of limbs.
They were so close Shoji could watch as Ojiro’s eyes narrowed to slits and he knew what the boy must be thinking: Betrayal.

The blond was struggling madly on his back as he changed from a man to an animal.
His arms were swinging wildly in conjunction with his wrecking ball tail and Shoji was struggling to maintain a solid grip on the writhing beast. Ojiro was hissing and spitting complaints as he thrashed in the giant’s hold, attempting to claw his way out by force.
“Mashirao! Calm down!” Shoji pleaded, but Ojiro twisted and yelled a defiant “NO!”, screeching while simultaneously attempting to swat at aggressive hands on his body.

Tail still whipping, Ojiro bared his teeth and kept on the attack.
Their noses were just about touching, their faces were so close. The way Ojiro was nipping at Shoji’s mask might’ve been hot if the boy’s eyes weren’t so cold and vengeful.
But the boy shuddered to a stop when a familiar sound cut through amidst the turmoil.

Ojiro’s pupils dilated to the point of overtaking his irises and his body went slack for a split second in Shoji’s arms as a pair of clippers appeared floating in midair. His tail went vulnerable for only a moment, but it was enough for it to get pinned down by an invisible force

“Don’t worry, Shoji!” Hagakure yelled, gesturing madly with the clippers. “I got ‘im!”
The nail-trimmers shook violently in the air as Ojiro’s tail started smacking again, trying to buck her off.

“Anything for you, friend-o!” The momentary calm before the storm had ceased and given way to a second round of fumbling to restrain their tailed classmate, but she somehow managed to keep her voice stable, even as she was bobbing up and down like riding a mechanical bull.
The *pspsps* effect had lasted long enough for Shoji to get a good hold and flip Ojiro underneath of him, his thighs enveloping the blond’s waist and his arms pinning down his arms and legs.
A few added appendages slipped backwards and laid heavy on Ojiro’s tail as Hagakure seemingly slid off, but the tail wouldn’t stop whipping.

“Rao, you’ve gotta stop or you know what’s gonna happen!”

“Not quite.”

One more hand was all it would take for total compliance. Round one was a gentle *pspsps*, but round two was reserved for emergencies only, but they were certainly in dire straits with Ojiro red in the face and snarling at them both.
With the tail more-or-less under control for the moment, Shoji snaked a single hand down right to the base of the smaller boy’s spine, right where the tail started.
“DON’T YOU DARE!” Tears were beginning to well in Ojiro’s eyes as he lost himself to his most primal instincts. His face was so sad and sniveling that Shoji almost had to stop.
But with a second sweep of his face, their eyes connected and the man still saw fight in Ojiro, knew that it was all just an act. Knew that he couldn’t play right into his boyfriend’s hands, or even worse, his horribly untamed and unpedicured furry toe-beaned feet.
So he scratched right at the intersection of tail and torso.
Shoji lost his unsteady grip as Ojiro’s tail shot upwards as his body unwillingly tried to present, but was held back under his captor’s full body weight laying heavy on his middle. His back was arching and his rear end was rising as high as it could as Shoji applied more +
+pressure with his nails right at the perfect scratching spot.

Once it was high enough, the giant snatched Ojiro’s tail around to the front so he could hold it tight to his chest.
Again sexy thoughts crept into his mind and Shoji thanked whoever was out in the universe that Ojiro was wearing pants right now, or else.

With what was about to happen, there was no way he’d be getting any later.
He sighed unhappily as he turned his attention back to Hagakure. “He’s all yours.”

Oh God, those tears were so real as Ojiro made one more tragic plea, but it was all for naught. He was helpless to watch and feel as pressure was applied to the pads of his paws and his claws were forced out of their sheathes.
He screamed when he heard the clippers go *snip* for the first time.

He started crying at the second.
It was the same every time. They would struggle and struggle and successfully trap him and then the inevitable would happen.

It didn’t hurt. Ojiro was just a baby.
Unfortunately for them all, the situation was taking place in the common room and Sero had all but run out of the room with Mina laughing hysterically as she trailed behind. They knew what was up.
Shoji had actually gotten Sero to tape Ojiro to the wall two tail-trims ago so he could have better access to those overgrown piggies of his.
Shoji almost couldn’t bare it as he kept his hold secure. Fat, unhappy tears were rolling down Ojiro’s face as he open-mouth sobbed into the carpet and Shoji felt like each snip of the clippers was one of his heartstrings snapping in half.

But he couldn’t let go.
“Stay strong, Shoji,” he heard Hagakure mumble from behind him. “Stay strong.”

So Shoji waited and just listened as Ojiro caterwauled throughout the entire operation.
With a tenth and final *snip*, Hagakure moved away and tossed the clippers aside. All Shoji’s hands withdrew and he rolled off the boy who had visibly lost all the fight in his body.
They both waited for a second, but Ojiro was apparently content to just sniffle into the rug, so Hagakure slapped Shoji on the shoulder as a subtle gesture of a job well-done.

“Well, I’m off to go put on some clothes. See ya!” And she bounded off down the hall.
Now it was just the two of them, one strong and confident but not without a couple drops of sweat accumulating on his brow from the effort, and the second still pooling tears into the wet spot on the floor.
So Shoji did the only thing he could do, the thing he always did: he crouched down and scooped Ojiro’s limp body into his arms and pulled down his mask just enough to press a quick kiss to the boy’s cheek.

“I love you, Mashirao.”
Ojiro just sniffled in response, refusing to meet his gaze. His childlike pout cut Shoji to the bone, but he still had to say it. “Do you love me, too?”

One more sniffle. “Yeah.”
Shoji lifted off the ground with his little lion boy in his arms and made his way towards the elevator so he could snuggle them into the bed. Ojiro might be angry with him. But he did what he had to do, what he had promised Ojiro’s parents that he would do.
Take care of their son.

And his feet.

“Don’t worry, Rao,” Shoji cooed as he nuzzled his chin into the blond’s cheek. “Next month will be even easier.”
“Okay, maybe I do hate you a little bit.”

“So does that mean you don’t want to snuggle?”

“Of course not. You owe me.”

Shoji kicked open the door to his room and flopped down onto the bed with Ojiro still tangled with him. He felt like he had just run a goddamned marathon. And all before dinner time.
He sighed into the pillow and into Ojiro’s hair and shimmied to get them both into their usual comfortable position.

They had approximately 30 days before the next session, but in that moment, both he and Ojiro’s toes had peace.
✨🦁✨ End ✨🦁✨
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