This came from an idea a reviewer gave me, and took a little longer to write than I foresaw. I love me some BAMF Yakuza Shin.

A suspicious looking man leant back against the Shirokin gates and lit a cigarette, smoking idly as if he had no business in the school and was merely pausing for a moment to take a breather. Only he'd been there for about half an hour, and the students – out on lunch break – were beginning to worry.

"Who is that guy?" one asked.

"He looks scary."

"Like a Yakuza."

"No! Don't say that, it's too much," someone complained.

"He keeps looking this way."

"Don't look back! He'll see you."

"... Oi," the man called out. "Kids over there. The ones talking about me." The mob of students fussed and hastily ran off, so the man sighed and pulled on his cigarette again. He'd long since finished it and was considering a second by the time the head of third year approached him.

"Are you the leader?" he inquired appraisingly, looking the boy up and down. "Man up a bit, you look like you're about to shit your pants." The student did not succeed in looking any more intimidating, and if anything looked more intimidated.

"Wh-who are you?" the boy inquired uncertainly. "I mean, wh-whadya want?"

"You know Yamaguichi?" the man asked bluntly, and the boy nodded; it was impossible not to know her at Shirokin. "Good. Go find her and tell her someone's here to see her." He watched the boy for a moment, as neither of them moved. "You playing statues or something?" he snapped, and then the student rushed off as fast as his shaky legs could carry him, all the way up to the staff room. He pounded on the door until someone answered.

"Yankumi!" he said urgently as a teacher answered. "You have to come with me!" As she approached, the boy grabbed her by the sleeve and yanked her out of the room, dragging her down a hallway and into an empty classroom.

"Tanaka? What is it?" Yankumi asked curiously.

"There's a really scary guy outside the school gates," the boy panted. "He said he wanted to see you."

"Oh! A scary man?" she exclaimed, feigning girlish fright. "What did he want?"

"Nothing, I mean, I don't know," Tanaka rushed. "He's been hanging around for ages, and said he wants to talk to you."

"Is that all?" she remarked. "He didn't say why?"

"Nuhuh. He looked like a gangster or something," the boy added. "You aren't in trouble with the Yakuza, are you?" As soon as he finished the sentence, Yankumi's eyebrows hiked up her forehead.

"Looks like a Yakuza, you say?" she inquired suspiciously. "Describe him."

"Uh, well... he had bright red hair," Tanaka started to explain, and then Yankumi set a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

"I thought as much," she said gravely. "Don't worry, I know exactly who that is."

"You do?" he replied. "How do you know such a guy, Yankumi? If you're in debt with-"

"Ohhh is my cute little student worried about me?" she gushed, pulling him into a necklock as she paced out of the room. Tanaka cursed and fought until she let go of him, and then followed her at a distance, like a curious pet dog, as Yankumi wandered out towards the school gates where the man was finishing a second cigarette.

"At last," he berated as she strolled up, and from a distance a multitude of curious eyes watched.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she replied bluntly, and a murmur of fear ran around the observers. "You're frightening my students."

"Am I?" he replied, tugging his sunglasses down his nose to peer over the top. "Shirokin kids must be going soft."

"Or you're getting worse. Not often they see a gangster hanging around outside the gates," she scolded. Not just any gangster, either – a genuine Yakuza boss, known and respected.

"I'm an ex-student, aren't I?" he challenged. "Don't I have a right to return to the seat of my beloved childhood memories?"

"Oh shut it," she retorted wearily, and a ripple of fright sparked their audience. "You're after something. What is it?" The man smirked, as if she'd asked him something far less mundane.

"You forgot to say goodbye to me this morning, I'm here to collect what I'm owed," he claimed with bone-dry humour, and when she only returned an icy look he grinned and pulled a hand out of his pocket. "I wanted to give you this," he said finally, reaching into the inside pocket of his white suit jacket to pull out a thick brown envelope. "Just dropping by a little anonymous patronage." Yankumi pulled the envelope open and peered inside, then glanced back up to him with shock.

"Where did you get thi... we can't take this!" she shot. "What is it, hot cash or something?" she barked, and the man chuckled.

"Stone cold, I promise you," he insisted. "It really is a donation to the school."

"If that's true, then why did you bring it down yourself?" she queried. "You could have given it to me earlier, or sent anyone else down to deliver it."

"What, and miss a chance to greet my lovely wife at work?" he taunted, and there was an audible gasp of surprise. "We got a payment in," he explained. "It's blood money from the Kaito-group for the man we lost, so I don't much fancy spending it. Figure I'd feel better giving it to a worthy cause."

"What!" Yankumi screeched, shoved the envelope back at him. "It's blood money? We can't take this!"

"It's not traceable," he retorted. "What does it matter to Shirokin where it came from? You were saying only yesterday that the school needs new equipment. Take it," he insisted, pushing the money back at her. "If you don't I'll just throw it away," he said stubbornly. He was serious too; he refused to cash in member's life insurance policy, like it somehow made up for the death of one of their brothers. He would rather see the money do good, leave some legacy behind for the friend they'd lost. Begrudgingly, Yankumi accepted the package, fumbling around in it and gauging the sum.

"You're a real-" she started to grumble, and then with a shriek jumped back a pace. "Wait!" she yelped. "What did you just call me?" For a moment the man was silent and confused, and then pulled together the pieces.

"Wow, your reactions are still terrible," he remarked. "I called you my wife. You are, aren't you?" he challenged, and Yankumi shuddered to think of the gossip that was going to go round now. She guiltily stuffed her hand into her pocket.

"No, no, no," she hissed. "You can't say that!"

"Everyone here knows," he retorted. "Half of them were at the wedding."

"Not my students," she rushed. "They said there was a scary man waiting outside for me, now what are they going to think?"

"Scary man?" he echoed, and then started to laugh. "Why didn't you tell them I'm one of their own? Better yet – tell them I'm the honour student Sawada Shin." He was deliberately loud, and then the shocked murmur of recognition rocked through the crowd. The legend of Sawada Shin was a rich part of Shirokin's identity, but to think that the proud, studious genius Sawada Shin was the same as the gangster slumped outside their gates with a white suit, bright red shirt and dark sunglasses – it was too much to take in. The matching hair coincided with the tales they heard from staff and ex-student alike, but putting it together with the man they saw now seemed beyond belief. The next thing to boggle their minds, of course, was that this guy could actually be married to Yankumi.

"Shhhh," she interjected far too late. "You're going to destroy-"

"What? My own image?" he interrupted scathingly. "Letting them know that the prodigious student is now a Yakuza and proud of it? Don't tell me you're still keeping it a secret from them," he huffed. "You know it never lasts."

"It does so," she batted back.

"Well, far be it from me to sully your reputation," he retorted cattily. "Sorry I came." He turned to leave, urged onward by a sigh of relief, but she darted out a hand and caught him.

"Wait, Shin," she said quietly, holding him back. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Sure sounded like you did," he muttered, but didn't bother trying to break away from her – he still wasn't a match for her in the ring, not if she was serious about it.

"Thank you for the money," she offered, her grip on his arm tight. "We'll honour the donation."

"Oh cut the crap," he growled. "Why don't you just admit to what you are." He glanced over her shoulder, and she turned around to notice the fifty-odd students not even trying to hide any more, but circling around them with an awe-struck air.

"Oh..." she murmured, "now look what you've done!" she snapped.

"My bad," he replied sarcastically. "I didn't realise I gave off such an impression."

"Are you kidding?" she burst. "You couldn't look more conspicuous if you tried."

"Huh, seems like I forgot how to dress down," he remarked obliviously, looking at himself as if he couldn't see where he went wrong. "Well, the game's up now," he pointed out, "maybe I should go before I cause any more of a scene." He glanced again at the wondrous students, and then started to grin. "Or maybe not," he added slyly, and then setting a hand on her shoulder leaned around Yankumi to stare directly at the kids. "Hey!" he barked. "If any of you mess with Yamaguichi-sensei, you'll have me to answer to!"

Several boys were actually so frightened that they ran away, and the rest began to look a lot more concerned. Yankumi let out a noise of surprise and slammed her hand over his mouth.

"Shin!" she scolded. "What are you doing!"

"Giving you a little more respect," he teased after prying her hand off him. "You see if they disobey anything you say now." Grinning, he turned his face towards her ear. "Otherwise sensei's big scary Yakuza husband will come and get revenge," he murmured, voice velvety and smooth.

"You're terrible," she replied, pushing him back to a safer distance.

"Comes with the territory," he joked, pushing his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. "I better get off," he continued, noticing it was already ten minutes past the end of breaktime. "You're all going to be late for class." Yankumi let out a shrill noise when she realised he was right, and was about to turn and race up to the classroom when he caught her by the wrist. "Eh, not so fast," he reprimanded, reeling her back in like a puppy on a leash.

"See you later," he said warmly, and realising what the hold-up was in aid of, Yankumi stretched up to meet him in a light kiss; fast enough to miss, but everyone was staring too hard not to see.

"Bye," she answered, and then about-turned to the students with a look of terror in her eyes. "Whaddya looking at!" she bellowed. "Back to class! Didn't you hear the man?" As if the ground underneath them had been ignited, the students bolted into action, scattering like leaves in a gale.

During the rest of the day's classes, Yankumi's students did not so much as breathe out of line, although the effect was only to last about a week. By the time the end of term was rolling around, they had returned to the same rowdy rabble as before, and with examinations were approaching Yankumi found herself struggling to motivate them to work. Which of course, gave her an idea.

So one day after she got back from Shirokin she went and found Shin, who was – somewhat predictably – taking a nap on a bench outside, the dog snoring lazily by his side. Stepping over Fuji's great upturned belly, Yankumi wobbled and nearly fell over, bracing herself on either side of Shin as he opened his eyes with the noise.

"Well," he remarked, looking up at her quizzically. "One way of waking me up, certainly." She was about to open her mouth and explain, when he picked himself up a few inches and kissed her, slowly sliding up to a seated position without actually stopping.

"Wait, wait a minute!" she interjected suddenly, pulling away with a hand on each of his shoulders. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Oh? And here I was thinking you were just being fresh," he taunted, slinging a leg on either side of the bench and turning to face her, a smirk on his lips.

"You started it," she accused.

"Not the way I remember it," he replied with a grin, and then slumped back, pulling his hair away from his face. "Anyway, what?"

"Well, I was wondering if you'd come into Shirokin and talk to some of the students," she explained. Shin cocked a single eyebrow. "Last time you went there, they were scared for weeks!" she elaborated. "I've never seen them work so hard."

"And it's coming up for the entrance exams, right?" he surmised. "So you want me to light a fire under their asses and make them study?"

"Exactly," she triumphed.

"Forget it," he muttered, and then tried to lie back down, but she grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back up. "Watch it," he growled.

"Why not!" she demanded crossly.

"I never studied," he retorted.

"Liar," she shot.

"Okay, I never studied much," he muttered, "I don't see why I should go and lie to a bunch of kids about working hard."

"Because I want you to," she answered stubbornly.

"Tell me, dear wife," he began patronisingly, picking her hand off his shirt and dragging her closer to him. "When have I ever done what you wanted?" They both knew that he had a point; if Shin had done everything Yankumi wanted or told him to, he'd probably be a fully qualified lawyer working for one of Japan's top firms with no connection to the Kuroda family, much less married into it. He'd probably be miserable, too.

"Please, Shin," she entreated. "They're smart kids, they just lack motivation."

"So all I have to do is motivate them?" he questioned thoughtfully. "... All right, I think I can manage that." Yankumi beamed at him, and he returned a quieter, more tentative grin at her. "Turn around," he said after a short pause, "c'mere." She let herself be plied into place against his front, chin perched over her shoulder, lazily surrounding her like a blanket.

It was so easy with Shin, it always had been. Sometimes she found it hard to believe that she'd actually married him; that they had somehow accidentally-on-purpose ended up together, and being the impulsive, headstrong creature that he was, he asked – or convinced – her to marry him before he'd even graduated.

He'd made it seem simple then, too. I love you, so marry me – it was deceptively straightforward, and although she'd thought it was too much, too fast, she soon found herself saying yes, because she did love him too, and all-be-damned she wanted to marry him. She had to be completely mad, but she did it, cementing his position in their family, completing his transformation into a Yakuza.

She'd expected to regret it – that one day she'd wake up and realise it was all a huge mistake – but when she was with him, there wasn't even a speck of doubt in her mind; she knew it was right, that everything was exactly as it should be. He'd settled more as he grew up, anyway, he wasn't a temper-driven kid any more, in spite of her calling him that whenever they had an argument. He was a level-headed adult with a very good eye for legal loopholes and enough attitude to frighten every lawyer they came up against in court. He once made a prosecutor cry during a trial. He liked to stick his tongue down her throat when Shinohara came back for a visit, and she had to admit that she let him do it. He loved her to the point of adoration, but that didn't stop him chewing her out when she took stupid risks, and he was the brains behind most of Kuroda's operations.

That night, they went to bed late, kept up chatting with Kyo and Ryuuiciro, and slept even less than they should have, making Shin very groggy and extremely uncooperative the next morning when Yankumi wanted him to put on a suit and tie to come in and speak to her students.

"Fuck off," he moaned into his pillow, turning onto his front, showing off the tattooed skin of his shoulders and back.

"Get up!" she barked, running from the other side of the room and kicking him in the side with her sock-clad foot. "You promised!"

"I'm a Yakuza, we break promises all the time," he mumbled sourly.

"If you did grandpa would have had you hacked into pieces and thrown out to sea," she contradicted. "You're also my husband and don't break promises to me so get up!" She went to kick him again, and he lashed out an arm and grabbed her by the ankle, then slowly dragged her back down onto the futon, turning onto his back so that she was clumsily kneeling over him.

"Do I get an incentive?" he murmured, holding her legs around him and rolling his hips up between them.

"You'll get my fist in your face," she replied, but leant down to kiss him all the same, letting it linger as he trailed a hand up her leg and then all the way up her back. "We don't have time for that," she said against his lips, as he pushed her down against him.

"Then be late," he groaned, luring her back into increasingly heated kisses, which she more than happily returned. He slid his hands underneath her t-shirt, aiming to slide it up when her hands caught his.

"Uh-uh, I'm serious," she said to him sternly.

"Then why aren't you stopping?" he pointed out, taking one of his liberated hands and tilting up her face by the chin, baring her neck, which he scored with his mouth.

"You stop," she retorted weakly.

"I'm not the one who wants to stop," he replied; the next time he slid his hands up underneath the hem of her top, she didn't just stop him, she helped him, and they were both late into Shirokin that morning.

"Oi, Yankumi!" her students yelled when she slunk into the classroom well into second period. "Where've you been?"

"Uhh, traffic," she replied.

"I thought you jogged to school!" someone contradicted her.

"Ehhh, don't lie to us, Yankumi," another student said with disappointment. "Did you oversleep?"

"Sure, sure," she muttered, and then realised how far into the day they were. "Where's the substitute teacher?" she asked, knowing that when she was absent someone would have been sent in to cover for her. For a moment her entire class looked angelic and guiltless. "What did you do to him?" she snapped, "Tanaka! What did you do?" Tanaka looked up from a comic book.

"Why ask me," he answered dryly, "I dunno what happened to that scardy old fogy."

"Yes you do!" she retorted, and then realised her temper was getting her nowhere. "Okay, okay, never mind," she sighed. "We've still got half a lesson left, so rather than waste we're going to make the best of a bad situation.

"Nooo," the class chanted, reluctant to start work.

"I have invited a special guest to talk to all of you about the importance of studying," she explained proudly.

"What?" came the outraged replies, and the noise escalated, turning into rabble. Some students got up to storm out, but upon opening the door they froze dead, paralysed in place as on the other side stood Shin, arms crossed over his chest.

"Going somewhere?" he said coolly, and the boys dashed back inside and practically leapt into their seats.

"He's back!" someone cried in alarm as Shin stepped inside.

"Who pissed him off? We're dead!"

"He's Yankumi's husband, isn't he? He's here because we-"

"We're sorry, Yankumi!"

"Don't let him kill us!"

"He's not going to kill you!" Yankumi shot righteously. "Shin is here as a former student of Shirokin to lecture you on the importance of working hard." There was a loud groan.

"That's even worse," someone moaned.

"Couldn't he kill us instead?"

"Hey! Mr. Yakuza-sensei!" someone piped up. "How can I join?" Shin pulled down his sunglasses and peered at the boy.

"You want to wake up every morning in the same house as Yankumi?" he questioned, and the boy shook his head frantically. "Then you're shit outta luck," he commented sharply, "and that goes for the rest of you, too," he snapped. "No self-respecting group wants a bunch of punk-ass kids with no respect an' attitude problems working for them." A few of the class nodded studiously, and Shin wandered up to perch on the corner of Yankumi's desk.

"Psst, psst, what about studying?" she whispered from behind. He turned and gave her a sceptical look.

"You said I had to motivate them," he specified. "That's what I'm going to do. Right," he began ostentatiously, "listen up!" Every face in the room was silent and fixed on him. "Let me explain this for you brats," he started, "exams are coming up, and the school puts pressure on teachers to get good results from their class. If you guys fuck up, not only is Yankumi going to get in trouble, but she's gonna' be disappointed, because for some reason she actually cares about all of you. Now if that happens, she's gonna be pretty unhappy, and if she's unhappy, I'm unhappy. I don't think anyone in here wants that, do they?"

"Hell no," voices shot, while heads shook viciously.

"Good," Shin replied. "So, to make sure that doesn't happen, you all have to do whatever Yankumi tells you to."

"What?" they shot in outrage. "What about-"

"Yes, even when it's stupid," he answered. "She wants you to go play kick-the-can, you better fucking believe you're gonna play kick-the-can." Their faces grew slowly more horrified. "Might sound crazy, but she cares about you guys, and she wants what's best for you. Do whatever she says, whenever she says it – and keep her out of trouble," he added sternly. "If there's one teacher in this whole school you can trust, it's her, but do not let her go and get herself into bad situations," he warned, "because she will if you give her half a chance."

"Hey!" Yankumi shot from behind him.

"It's true," he retorted. "Now, I don't want to hear about any trouble from you lot, because if I do I'm gonna have to get involved, and I have a lot of shit to be doing that doesn't involve shaking down you guys. So," he began to wrap up, "is that clear?"

"Yes," came a chorus of voices, some worried, some admiring.

"And are we gonna have a problem?"

"No."

"And is my wife going to come home thrilled with how hard her precious students are working for their exams?"

"..."

"Is she?" he asked again, taking off his sunglasses and leaning forward threateningly.

"Yes," went a much quieter chant.

"Good, I'm glad we got that straightened out, then," Shin concluded, and stood up again. Yankumi was sat behind her desk with an indisputably shell-shocked expression. She didn't even react when Shin leant over and gave her a kiss goodbye, then headed for the door.

"Uhh, uhh, get out your textbooks," Yankumi said vacantly, and in a flash there was a textbook on every table, open and ready. "Oh," she murmured, and looked at the door Shin had left through. It wasn't what she was expecting, but it certainly seemed to do the trick.

When she came home that day, she was thrilled with how hard her class had been working, and she was even moreso when her class had the highest results of the entire year in university entrance exams. In the staffroom she was begged for her secret, but only smiled and said she just used the right incentives.

"Well done," Shin congratulated her at the graduation ceremony, patting her back as she sobbed into a washcloth he'd brought specially for the occasion.

"You're the one who should be congratulated," she replied through sobs.

"Not at all," he retorted. "I just got'em to do what you said, you're the one who did it from there." He put an arm around her shoulder, meaning to give her half a hug, but she flung herself against him and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, so he just rolled his eyes and hugged her back.

Some things about Shirokin never changed.

"Sno nmext mear," came a muffled noise from his shoulder, where she'd buried her face.

"What?" he said, pulling her back up inquisitively and trailing both his thumbs across her face, wiping away streaks of tears.

"So next year..." she repeated with a sniffle.

"What? Oh no," he shot. "I am not doing it again!"

"But how else can I maintain this standard?" she cried indignantly.

"No!" he insisted.

"But Shin-"

"NO!"

Funnily enough, come the start of the new year, with new troublemakers in the classrooms and Yankumi coming home exhausted and grumpy, Shin found himself hanging around outside the Shirokin gates yet again.

Ta-da! I hope people enjoyed it, please leave a review to let me know your thoughts (if you have any).