hold my hand. | futakuchi kenji x m!reader

There was this promise you had made with Futakuchi since you first met him in kindergarten. That promise wasn’t really anything big; it’s just that if either one of you made a mean comment or action to the other, the person who was in the wrong would have to squeeze the ‘victim’s hand.

Indeed, it might seem strange to anyone else who heard of the deal the both of you have made but it was surprisingly effective. According to you – who was the one to come up with the ingenious idea in the first place – as a child, the person who was in the wrong would be the one to squeeze the other’s hand to show that doing mean things can hurt the other party and would send the ‘baddie’ for a guilt trip.

Obviously since you were a still a little boy back when you thought of that idea, you disregarded the fact that the person could’ve pretended to use all their strength. However, it wasn’t as if Futakuchi did try to do so either so that was fine.

Usually, it would be him doing the hand squeezing and apologizing since he enjoyed tossing you snarky remarks and laughing at you but later he’d feel so remorseful about hurting you he even offered to share his beloved sour gummies with you during breaks. You would laugh and deny yet failing terribly and end up with two to three gummies stuffed in your mouth, face scrunched up due to the extreme sourness of the treats.

And which continues the never-ending apologies and hand squeezes.



The time for high school rolled around and both of you had gone your separate ways. You to Aobajōsai and him to Date Tech. He didn’t quite enjoy hearing you talk over the phone about the new friends you’ve made on the volleyball team – mainly Oikawa Tooru and Hajime Iwaizumi – since he was supposed to be your closest friend so he decided to randomly pick a day after school to meet up so you could apologize and give his hand a squeeze.

Too bad you were busy having training on that day he was free though.

Eventually, the both of you managed to clear up some free time for your weekly meet-up and this time, you were the one who had hurt Futakuchi more than he had hurt you. Almost everything you brought up was related to the captains of your school’s volleyball team and your friend was anything but pleased. Three packs of sour gummies and half of your own regular candy seemed to cool him down though.

Despite you talking so much about the duo, he did enjoy watching you brighten up every time you mentioned how much you’ve learned simply from observing from the side lines. He thought it would’ve been better if he was the one you talked so much about, though. Watching you smile and move your hands around to bring your point across was just so cute, he could’ve watched you forever!

Only if the distance of your schools weren’t in the way though…

That pretty much concluded the early half of your first years in high school. Things ran smoothly, that strange deal the both of you made was still fulfilled and it was as if nothing could’ve gone wrong. Well, that was until the second half of the year rolled along.



He’d been calling you over and over to ask about when would be a good day for the next meet-up be but to no avail. Exams were inching closer and he had wanted your help with tutoring him since your grades have always been better than his, after all and he needed good grades to remain on the team.

At first, he was angry about you not picking up but managed to get over it, remembering he got to hold your hand for a couple of seconds despite having to get his hand squeezed tightly each time. Then, he started to suspect something was up – you were never this busy no matter for studies or volleyball training.

With hesitance, he dragged himself over to your school when he knew you had practice so he could’ve at least see you. He went into the indoor sports hall, pulled aside a random member and asked him about you only to be sent home full of disappointment.

‘[name]? Huh, he hasn’t been here since school started again,’ was what Futakuchi was told.

He knew he shouldn’t disturb your parents either since both of them were really always busy but this was important and he had to worry about you as the role of being your closest friend.



He was supposed to be playfully making sarcastic comments to you once he tracked you down through information from your parents. You were supposed to be getting angry at him over the small, petty matter but ending up breaking in laughter over how silly it was.

He was supposed to get his hand squeezed over and over until it felt numb or like you were holding his hand from the perspectives of others. You were supposed to be feeling guilty for making him run about here and there while you went MIA without leaving as much as a hint of your whereabouts.