Ishimaru x Reader:Romance Novels or Pick Up Lines?

It wasn’t an uncommon sight to see you in the library; sure you enjoyed reading, but not to the extent of time in which you had been spending in the library, which was twelve hours to be exact.  There was a perfectly good reason for the staggering amount of time you had been locked away in the school library despite the fact that your stomach had started to sound like an enraged whale; that was because of Kiyotaka Ishimaru.  Now, to set the record straight, you didn’t hate him, not one bit.  It was actually the complete opposite.  It wouldn’t be incorrect to say you had a crush on him.

To vocalize thoughts, such as love and compassion, was always difficult for you, but Kiyotaka made it all the more difficult.  The fact that you were extremely bashful didn’t help.  Whenever you were around him your cheeks turned so red and you would perspire so much that it looked like you had a fever, and that’s always what Kiyotaka assumed.  He would look you straight in the eye, give you a look of severe disapproval, then tell you to start taking better care of yourself.  In a way, that really made you ecstatic; for him to care about the way you felt was enough.  But, as selfish as you thought you were being, you wanted more from him.  

Kiyotaka, on the other hand, probably just regarded you as another student; this meant you were to be monitored and, if needed, disciplined for not following school rules.  And, as someone who would never break the rules, he would never approve of a romantic relationship with another student.  However, as of recent, that wasn’t the case.  He had been acting quite different than before, very strangely for lack of a better word; but even saying that would be an understatement.  He was talking in rather strange patterns, almost as if he were trying to make a poem out of random words.  You weren’t sure what brought these strange phrases on, but whatever the reason, each word he said stuck to you like glue and caused your cheeks to heat up.  His words echoed in your mind, “If I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put U and I together.”  Just thinking about the kinds of things he said made you blush and bury your face in the book you were reading.

As a matter of fact, what were you reading?  You had just picked up the book to make it seem like you were reading; therefore, Kiyotaka wouldn’t try to use any of his ridiculous lines on you.  He would never bother you if he thought you were studying; some habits just never die.  You silently closed the book and scanned the cover page.  The book had a dark pink and orange sunset looking color to it with a fancy cursive title.  It was fairly heavy and think, but the pages were made from thick paper, the sides being made up of a material that made it shine like gold.  'So Lingers the Ocean', by Touko Fukawa.  “Just perfect”, you vocalized your thought aloud sarcastically, “A romance novel; how fitting for my situation.”  Well, just one page wouldn’t hurt; it might help take your mind of Kiyotaka, right?  




Boy were you ever wrong.  The first problem being that you couldn’t put the book down; Touko wasn’t called the Super Duper High School Level Writing Prodigy for nothing.  You were immersed in the novel, each page brought forth new emotions and reactions.  Each turn of the pages made you want to turn the next one even more.  The second problem was that it didn’t help take your mind of Kiyotaka, in fact, it made you imagine him even more.  Impressions of him shirtless, each muscle defined under the glowing sunset, sparkling ocean, and a thin layer of sweat, gently wrapping his well-toned arms around your waist and caressing your cheek before pulling you into a passionate kiss.  The blazing ball of light sinking into the horizon as the two of your held each other close, listening to the sounds of seagull’s cry and waves rhythmically crashing down upon the sand; the loud thumping of your heart as he leaned his head close to your chest and rested his chin upon your shoulder.

The monitor in the library suddenly flashed to life, practically scaring the life out of you.  “This is a school announcement,” came the obnoxiously cheerful Monokuma, “Ahem, may I have your attention please?  The time is now ten PM.  Nighttime is now in effect.  The cafeteria is now off limits, and the door will be locked momentarily.  And with that, I wish you all a good night.  Sleep Tight; don’t let the bed bugs bite.”  You had been in the library longer than anticipated.

You would have to head back to your room or risk receiving punishment from Monokuma for sleeping somewhere that wasn’t a dorm.  You trudged over to the bookshelves and squished the romance novel, struggling to get it to fit in between the massive book collection Hope’s Peak had acquired, in between a book about a mass murderer named Sparkling Justice and a yearbook from previous years at Hopes Peak Academy.  Alas, you couldn’t bring yourself to return the book just yet; you pulled it out once more, allowing other books fall back into place, and tucked it under your arms.  Returning to your room would not be a simple task; there would be no doubt that Kiyotaka would be patrolling that halls until he knew for a fact everyone was safely in their dorms.  Again, some habits never change; you could only sigh nervously, dreading the confrontation you were about to have.

Perhaps, you pondered, you could sneak past him; he was very astute, but if you could time it just right you might be able to give him the slip.  You peered out of the library; the coast was clear.  All you had to do was tiptoe downstairs and slide into your room; nothing too it, right?  That’s what you thought; aside from being bashful, you were awfully clumsy, and, while attempting to slink about you ending up tripping over absolutely nothing and your own feet on multiple occasions.  Alas, Kiyotaka never heard you, it was as if you weren’t making any noise at all.  Just when you felt you were home safe, you turned the corner to the hallway where the dorms lie and found him, standing like a stereotypical bad-boy, leaning against the door with one leg propped up against the wall and arms crossed behind his back to ensure his head wouldn’t touch the wall, right in front of the door to your room.  

You stood there, in shock, for a moment, then hid behind a decorative pillar, forcing yourself to silence your breathing and control your movements.  You had two options at this point: one, confront him, or two, hide there until he left; but who knows how long that would take.  You decided on the first option, inhaled deeply, then casually made your way toward your room; that was when the images of a shirtless Kiyotaka thought it would be great timing to pop into your head causing your cheeks to turn magenta.  Again, perfect timing; you slapped your cheeks gently to try and rid yourself of the redness.  

 His eyes darted toward you and a gleeful smile broke its way onto his face, replacing the previous serious look, “You look like the type of girl who has heard every line in the book. So, what's one more?”  He was speaking so cheerfully and innocently, certainly not the way most pick-up lines were delivered; he let out his trademark chuckle then extended one arm near your shoulder, placing it, practically pinning you on the wall so you couldn’t leave.  “Are your legs tired? Because you've been running through my mind all day.”  He leaned in closer to you.  “Is your father a thief? Because he stole the stars from the skies and put them in your eyes!”  He moved in even closer, the pure smile still pasted on his face.  “Are you lost ma'am? Because heaven's a long way from here.”  He moved in even closer; you could feel his warm breath against your pink cheeks, his crimson eyes begging you to look into them.  

Each time he inched in closer, you found yourself pushing back against the wall harder and harder till it felt like you were going to break through and fall into the room next door.  “Can I borrow a quarter?  Cause my mom told me to call home when I met the girl of my dreams.”  He was getting far too close; so close, in fact, that you almost fainted due to anxiety.  You heart was beating, racing so fast that it was bound to beat right out of your ribcage.  You head was spinning with each word that came out of his mouth; at one point you just saw his mouth moving, yet you could hear nothing due to your demeanor at the moment.  You whole body broke out into a cold sweat.  That was when you did it.  You took hold of the book that was under your arms, sliding it unnoticeably toward his face, raised it ever so slightly, then smacked him in the front head with the side of the book with as much force as you could muster up.

He stepped back, aghast at your actions; quite frankly you were frightened yourself.  Never before had you done something so uncouth, so violent, so rude.  But, what could you do, he was coming on way too strong.  You dropped the book to the floor, covering your mouth, trying to silence your horrendously loud gasp, as he stood rubbing the sore spot on his head.  “Is-Ishimaru-San, I am so sorry,” you sputtered out as you cautiously outstretched your hand as if you knew of a way to help; you didn’t have the slightest idea of what good you could do.  He then locked eyes with you; his look wasn’t one of disappointment or even frustration, it was a look of hurt pride and crushed emotions.  




You swallowed skittishly, making a gulping sound as you did.  What was that?  You just hit him in the head!  You were so busy mentally scolding yourself, your eyes fixated on the ground, you didn’t notice Kiyotaka’s expression change from soreness to mortification.  “(Y/N)-San!  Violence is against school rules!  I’m afraid I’ll have to write you up for this.”  He then pulled out a plain orange pocket notebook from his pants pocket and a professional silver pen with a black inscription that read ‘Hope’s Peak’.  “I can’t believe you’d do something so cruel and unsatisfactory,” he eyed you with his blood red eyes menacingly.  You began to shrink in submission; your shoulder hunched up, your neck crouched down, your eyes quivering as tiny sparkles of water danced at the edge of your eyes.  You bit your lip in attempt to control the tear flow; alas, it was a futile effort.  

“I-I’m sorry,” you were barely able to speak; you really did feel awful about what you had done, but, what else could you have done?  “I’m sorry (Y/N)-San, but…”  He then trailed off, suddenly turning from seriously stern to sweetly soft, once he saw tears in your eyes.  “But…”  He started, only to forget what he was going to say.  “I-I-I,” you stuttered out.  “I-I di-didn’t,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence as the tears took control.  “You scared me!”  You were finally able to blurt something out; but to what effect on Kiyotaka?    

The others students, one by one, poked their heads out of their dorms, awakened by the sound of your sobbing.  Kiyotaka looked flustered; sure, he had seen plenty girls use fake tears and apologize to try and get out of detention, but none of them cried like you, because you really were sorry and they were real tears.  He honestly had no idea that he was scaring you, and you knew that all too well.  He then gave himself a moment to analyze the situation; first of all, he was close to your face, very close.  Second, he was practically on top of you; he then used that opportunity to take a few steps back from your sniveling tiny frame.  Third, he was technically harassing you; another school rule violation.  He, himself, began to feel ashamed at his actions; for the Ultimate Moral Compass to show such disrespectful and ornery behavior around other students, this was a travesty.  

“I’m sorry,” you repeatedly repeated, saliva and snot sliding down your mouth.  He looked down not quite sure what to say or do next; never before had he had what some would call a crush on a girl.  At his feet lie Touko’s book, its fancy cursive and gold pages glimmering in the florescent light that the hallway provided.  He reached for it, clutched it in his hand and opened it to the back; never before had he been one to spoil a book for himself by reading the ending first like some did.  Yet, something about the appearance of the book inspired him to check the back.  “As his hand caressed her bare shoulders, he could only think of how he couldn’t have gone on without her.  He brushed a sparkling tear out of her eye and flicked it, allowing it to fall into the dark blue ocean that was swallowing the sun.  He had no reason to look at the sight, she was a spectacle to behold.” he began reading allowed in a rigid pattern, “Her chest-length silky hair blew gently as the breeze pulled at it, adorning her small frame and causing her to shiver, her teeth chattering.”  Kiyotaka then paused, looking down at you with compassionate eyes; your tears were drying as your eyes scanned him curiously.  You wanted him to continue.

He sensed your longing for him to continue and turned his attention back to the novel, this time, reading with passion as if he were trying to impress a teacher in his class.  “He slipped off his button-up shirt and hastily, yet he never lost eye-contact with her, draped it over her.  His hands lingered behind her back for a second, contemplating wither or not to hold her trembling body.”  Kiyotaka stopped once more, this time he waited for your seal of approval to start reading again; a look of transcendence and hope filled his face.  “Yes, then what?”  You gestured for him to continue as your body unintentionally leaned in closer as if you were expecting a kiss; by this time, all but one of the onlookers had closed their doors and gone back to their sleeping, since no would was getting murdered, there was no reason for them to continue to watch two love-sick teenagers confess to each other.  

He nodded as if someone important had just asked him to do something, “He gave into temptation as he sloth-like pulled her into his arms, ghosting her cheeks; the sensation of her smooth cool skin caused him let out a sigh of contentment.  He then pulled away, making sure he had complete eye contact before he did anything.”  Kiyotaka then read the next part to himself silently, his lips never moved.  Then, ever so rapidly, his cheeks went from a pale skin color to a red so deep, one would think he had eaten something very hot.  You leaned in even closer, the two of you were now holding hands, causing him to drop the book and intertwine his hands.  “He…”  Kiyotaka bit his bottom lip and began to sweat.  “He pulled her in for a long kiss.”  He finished, memorizing the last few lines of the book.  

The two of you were so close now you could practically taste his lips.  His cherry eyes beaming into yours, staring with such intensity, such fervency, that your cheeks couldn’t help but turn the color of his eyes.  Closer.  Closer.  The both of you shut your eyes, awaiting for the moment your lips would touch.  “Woah!  You go bro!”  Came a husky yet over-enthusiastic voice cheering; this caused the both of your eyes to shoot open and your bodies to freeze.  “Come on bro; hurry up and kiss her!”  Kiyotaka turned around in a fringed manor; standing in the doorframe of his dorm was Mondo cheering his, ‘Bro’, on from the sidelines.  

Needless to say, Kiyotaka was furious at Mondo for ruining his chance at a first kiss.  While he went over to scold Mondo for supposedly breaking a school rule by yelling in the halls, you couldn’t help but try and stifle your light giggles.  “Goodnight, Kiyotaka-Kun,” you gave him a bashful smile, waved, and shut your door.  

From your dorm you could hear Kiyotaka arguing while Mondo taunted and snickered at him.  “Bro, do you know how close you were to kissing her?”  Mondo teased and chuckled more, “Just a little more and you’ll be on your way.”  You were almost positive you knew Kiyotaka didn’t know what that meant, and, if he did, his whole face was surly beet-red.  Alas, you were very tired from the whole ordeal, too tired to wonder any more, that sleep seemed like it would overtake your whole body as you melted into your bed, your eyes’ fluttering open and shut in a rhythmic pattern.  You would need your sleep, after all, you were determined to wake up early, find another one of Touko’s romance novels, and, perhaps, do another book reading with Kiyotaka.