fuyuu-suru-uzuki

[fuyuu-suru-uzuki]

mobtober day 1: stars

優しいです、夜が。 gentle is the night.

[fuyuu-suru-uzuki]

I love how you draw ???% Shigeo with the clouds over his eyes, its a really pretty detail!

thank yoooooooooo~~ *blushes hard*

when i drew ???%!shigeo previously, i was trying to figure out how to shade his face without obscuring his facial expressions too much; that was the solution i came up with. he has elemental powers and gathers clouds around himself on multiple occasions in-canon, so it just made sense to me. i'm happy with it and even happier that you like it too!

[fuyuu-suru-uzuki]

優しいです、夜が。 gentle is the night.

[fuyuu-suru-uzuki]

White on blue on white on white on black on white. The blinds are already open. He leans against the sink on his palms, shivering in spite of his black sweater, Friday���s storm-colored necktie slung over his shoulders. Pushing the slats up all the way with his mind, he slides open the kitchen window and its screen, extends a formal invitation to the early spring chill and the morning dew. Milk, creamy white in his glass atop the white granite fog of the counter under the builder-grade bland white of the slats lightly dusted in black from the street below and the sun-bleached white puffs meandering overhead like a herd of friendly sheep, teasing him. What are those clouds like on the inside? They look nothing like the mass he’d tumbled into late Friday night with Teruki. He reaches out for them without thinking; the sun bleaches his fingertips the same blinding white. A desire seizes him: to drop everything right now and find out. To sail through the open sash, up and up; to chase them before they vanish back into the rhythm of the breeze. And he could do so. Easily. But his brother is coming over for breakfast—omuraisu. His treat. They hardly ever get to hang out anymore. Is this what adulthood is supposed to look like? These stolen moments of freedom here and there until retirement? Ritsu is rarely late. There’s no way he’d get back in time.

this chapter has an almost stream-of-consciousness feel to it; it was hard to get the right vibe i wanted. but at long last, it (and this fic) is complete. thank you for your patience. please enjoy and let me know what you think!

[fuyuu-suru-uzuki]

年を重ねている自信が解放の一種です。 the self-trust one accumulates with age is a kind of liberation.

影山茂夫くん（35歳） kageyama shigeo, 35 years old

[fuyuu-suru-uzuki]

喪失

[fuyuu-suru-uzuki]

shigeo sketch dump. i was experimenting with a better way to draw heads and this ensued.

[fuyuu-suru-uzuki]

have some WIP cream: kageyama shigeo, in his mid-thirties, soundbathing in darkness with a cup of hot milk before turning in for the night.

wanted to try something a little different with the lineart...

[fuyuu-suru-uzuki]

If this isn’t peace, he’s not sure what is. He doesn’t need to walk on the moon. Not really. Though it would still be a good time, he’s certain. He doesn’t even need to leave Japan. Not when all this is right above his home. And then it dawns on him. This was the sight he’d treated Teruki to on the very first day they met. Granted, the boy was naked at the time; the sun was still up, and he’d forced Teruki into this abundance of quiet now coating his own skin like the waters of an onsen bath, but still. It wasn’t fair that Teruki already knew this feeling… and he’d never given it to himself.

read more here.

[fuyuu-suru-uzuki]

shigeo canonically has a Temper™; i rarely see that explored in fan works (shout-out to @kyokyeo for her lovely brawling #terumob!), likely because his anger is legitimately horrifying if one sits down to ponder it.

the boy who nearly started WW3 on accident when he discovered what looked like his family, crispy golden dead, in his merrily crackling home? who wrung a 48-year-old man out like sopping wet laundry, cracking bones and all, because he was abundantly sick of his bullshit? who trashed a whole fucking city after his public-facing self spurned him? that child would definitely live on in the post-confession arc adult.

an older, healthier version of shigeo, methinks, would still feel earth-shattering-kaboom emotions—of all colors—from time to time. while he'd possess the self-control not to vent them indiscriminately, he should also feel more comfortable expressing them in milder, non-destructive forms. all of them.

i can also imagine that system… breaking down on occasion.

(this scene is part of a story in my post-canon AU, still life with breakfast. you can read it here.)

｢フザケルナッ…」 'do. not. test me.'

TFW you play-ambush your friend from behind... and he just happens to be in an extremely foul mood...

[fuyuu-suru-uzuki]

｢仲良くなりましょうね。」 'let's be friends, yeah?'

the idea of ???%!shigeo befriending the spirit of an edo period teenage assassin whose humanity was nearly stolen from him warms every little crevice of my heart.

[fuyuu-suru-uzuki]

i wonder what shigeo is thinking about behind that mask

[fuyuu-suru-uzuki]

Inspired by that scene in canon where high-school boys attempt to bully young Shigeo and he ends up saving them from his posse. There, he isn't yet sure how to defend himself without causing others physical harm. Here, he's managed to figure something out...

‘In future, I need you to come and ask for help, Shinkai-kun. No one expects you to know this system already; you’re new here. It’s not just your ass on the line.’ Shinkai hangs his head. ‘Yes, senpai.’ ‘All right, then. This one, this one… this drawer, too?’ ‘Yeah… and then those three, over there.’ Shinkai looks almost as if he wants to say more, but holds his peace and nods instead. His kōhai has almost certainly misfiled more accident documentation elsewhere; he would bet actual yen on that. But they’ve got to start somewhere, no? He has his own investigation to get back to. ‘So. This one, uh… this one over here too, and… was it this bin, here?’ He calls out each drawer with a tilt of his chin. One by one, they wiggle free of their steel moorings and sail out of the wall cabinet, coming to rest in orderly stacks of two at Shinkai’s feet. His hair, set afloat at this, falls neatly back into place over his eyebrows. ‘Start there.’

read more here.

[fuyuu-suru-uzuki]

NEW CHAPTER NEW CHAPTER NEW CHAPTER NEW CHAPTER AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH

A lone figure jogs past, ball of sentient companion fluff in tow. Another pair of figures stumble through the darkness, clinging to each other for dear life, presumably heading home from the bar to sleep off an excess of beer. Still another figure emerges from his right, bearing gifts for the morning garbage collectors. Yet another, unseen and thus ignored by the rest, no longer alive, crouched on the ground, head and arm buried under the hedges in search of something it remembers not what. Or he would take notice of these things—all pleasures from his thrice-weekly evening runs—if only he could turn down this infernal noise inside his skull. He squints hard, pleading with his mind to cooperate. Shaking his head a bit, as if to clear it, doesn’t help; Teruki notices and rubs his upper back, which does. Just a little. He likes that Teruki seems neither to mind this silence nor to feel an urge to fill it, and leans into that hand, just a little. Teruki’s turning his head now towards something. Or someone…? And he’s scowling Why What’s hap— but the squall in his own head rushes in quick to fill up all the empty space and he can't hear himself think anymore. The night closes in round the pair. They walk on.

read more here.

[fuyuu-suru-uzuki]

from a work in progress

[fuyuu-suru-uzuki]

｢フザケルナッ…」 'do. not. test me.'

TFW you play-ambush your friend from behind... and he just happens to be in an extremely foul mood...

(this scene is from a story in my post-canon AU, still life with breakfast. you can read it here.)

[fuyuu-suru-uzuki]

茂夫だけが行方不明になっている命。 a life from which shigeo has gone missing.