Hanma X Reader: Bonten's Princess

I Found You

The vibrant lights of Roppongi blurred into streaks against the night as Aominé wandered the streets aimlessly. Memories of a past lover held her hostage, their intensity shielding her from the crude catcalls of men loitering outside bars. Only one man occupied her thoughts, the only man she had ever loved.

Shuji Hanma.

The memories came in waves—some sweet and intoxicating, others dark and suffocating. They were painful reminders of why she'd fled Tokyo in the first place. She had run to escape him, his control, his malice. If it hadn't been for her financial constraints, she would have left Japan altogether.

In their youth, their love had been intoxicating. As teenagers, they were inseparable, their passion consuming and raw. But over time, that love twisted into a toxic codependency. By the time Aominé realized how far gone he was—how the underworld of crime had devoured his soul—it was too late. The man she loved was gone, replaced by a monster.

When she finally broke free, he made sure she paid dearly. Hanma froze her accounts, weaponizing her dependence on him to maintain control. But after enduring years of his abuse, she didn't care about money. All she wanted was freedom.

Reaching her apartment building, Aominé exhaled deeply as the familiar voice of Mrs. Arasaka greeted her.

"Good evening, Aominé. You really shouldn't stay out so late! These streets aren't safe for a young woman."

"Good evening, Mrs. Arasaka." Aominé mustered a small smile. "Once I find a decent job with daytime hours, I'll be able to heed your advice. Until then..."

Mrs. Arasaka's warm eyes softened. The elderly landlord had been a rare beacon of kindness, giving Aominé the apartment and covering her first month's rent to help her get on her feet. In a world often so cruel, Mrs. Arasaka was proof that goodness still existed.

Upstairs, Aominé opened her door and slipped off her shoes—only to freeze. A second pair of shoes sat neatly by the entrance. Men's shoes.

Her chest tightened as her breath hitched.

A low, familiar voice echoed from the living room, sending a chill down her spine.

"Aominé, my love. Did you miss me?"

She turned slowly, her heart thundering in her chest. There he stood: Shuji Hanma, the golden-eyed devil she had spent years running from.

He looked... different. Time had refined him. His jawline was sharper, his long hair streaked with blonde highlights instead of the patch she remembered. He even wore glasses now. But the aura of menace around him was unmistakable.

"Cat got your tongue, princess?" he teased, taking a step closer.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Aominé demanded, her voice trembling. "How did you find me?"

Hanma clicked his tongue, feigning disappointment. "All this time apart, and you're still rude. Didn't you miss me? Because I sure as hell missed you. Tracking you down made me want you even more."

Aominé's mind raced. How had he found her? Had Mrs. Arasaka been bribed? Panic clawed at her throat, but she knew one thing: she had to get out.

Summoning a burst of adrenaline, she spun on her heels and bolted for the door. But before she could reach it, his hand shot out, covering hers and forcing it away from the knob. His tall frame loomed over her, his warm breath brushing against her neck.

"Why are you always running from me, baby?" His voice was a low growl, laced with amusement. "You should know by now—there's nowhere on earth you can hide."

Aominé tried to scream, but his hand clamped over her mouth.

"Shh, my little dove," he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. "You wouldn't want the old hag downstairs to pay the price, would you? What's her name again? Mrs. Arasaka? I'll kill her and everyone in this building if you make me. You know I will."

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she nodded weakly. Hanma smirked, satisfied.

"I'm going to move my hand now. Don't do anything stupid."

When he released her, Aominé sagged in defeat. Years of running, of hiding, all undone in a single night. Changing her name, dyeing her hair, wearing colored contacts—it had all been for nothing.

Hanma didn't seem to care about her despair. "Let's go," he said calmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Downstairs, Mrs. Arasaka's cheerful voice cut through the silence.

"Goodnight, Aominé! I didn't mention your visitor earlier because he said it was a surprise!"

Aominé forced a strained smile through her tears. "Everything's fine, Mrs. Arasaka. He just gave me some bad news."

The old woman frowned but nodded, letting them pass. If she had pressed further, Aominé knew things could have turned ugly.

A sleek black Bentley pulled up outside, and a driver stepped out to open the door. Hanma guided her into the backseat before climbing in beside her.

As the car sped off into the night, Aominé closed her eyes, the weight of her despair pulling her into unconsciousness. For her, this felt like the beginning of the end.