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a love as false as ours

Summary:

Fukuzawa hates Mori, and hates himself.

He hates how quickly his pulse thrums under the other man’s gaze, how he revels in every word he speaks of him, laced with double meanings.

Hating, he thinks, would be easier if only it didn’t hurt so damn much.

Notes:

Before anything else, I’d like to give a fair warning that there are a lot of possible triggers in this fic for some of you—violence, gore, drinking, and let’s be real, the entirety of Mori’s character is a walking trigger warning on his own— so I’d appreciate it very much if you read on at your own risk; please, please take care of yourself.

That being said—

This wasn’t supposed to be this long, I have no idea how it got this long. This goddamn fic has a mind of its own.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: prelude (a note from the author)

Chapter Text

This work diverges from canon in several ways. You can think of it as my own theory on Mori and Fukuzawa’s past together.

Before starting, I would like to establish the following.

Firstly, that Fukuzawa hasn’t left the government yet; here, he works under the Special Operations Division as a bodyguard/hitman instead of just a plain assassin like he did during the Great War.

Secondly, Fukuzawa already knows Natsume Soseki from the get-go, and the latter serves as his mentor figure.

Lastly, Fukuzawa hasn’t yet gotten rid of the ease with which he kills, and has yet to lay down his sword. This will be addressed within the story.

With all this established, I would like to thank you, reader, for picking this story up; whether you are new here or have been present for this work since 2018, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.