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meisun657 · 4 months ago

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White-star / White-ship / Night-jar / Trans-mit

Word count: 2920

For @yangvikweek2024 (albeit only tangentially)

Inspired by this incredible artwork by @wizzyye

I’ve never posted my fanfiction before, but the inspiration took hold of me and I simply couldn’t help myself…

They had grown old. Such was the way of the world, the pressing weight that always accompanied the inexorable march of time. What had once felt like boundless energy had grown weary and trembling, a once pounding pulse now receding like the evening tide. It was inevitable, really. Despite her immense and occasionally unfathomable power, even still, she was not immune to the beckoning hand of mortality. He had simply not expected to outlive her.

Her funeral was a global affair. It was only fitting, for an Avatar so beloved as she. People wept, wailed, sobbed with bosoms heaving. Only Kavik remained perfectly still, ever the picture of the stoic spy. The portrait he made was not even that difficult to achieve. After all, he was in shock. The grief felt less present than the overwhelming numbness threatening to overtake his body altogether.

She had been old. It had been her time. But he had never believed that for a second, regardless of who uttered the same sympathies in the millionth iteration. To him, she had been endless, immortalized in a beautiful world that she had graciously allowed him to enter. Death did not exist in such a world. For him, perhaps, and their other, loyal companions. But never for her.

He knew that the chances of her reincarnation being born in the city were fair, and yet he could not bring himself to help in the delivery rooms that day, even just in case. He had not delivered babies in a long time, come to think of it. Women did not seem to enjoy an aging male doctor with shaky hands digging around inside them in their most vulnerable moments, and that seemed more than fair to him. Still, he had access to the healing centers all across Agna Qel’a. He simply chose not to enter them. He chose, instead, to stay home.

The world blurred around him in a haze. His once rich and textured life now felt empty and pointless without her. There was only so much work he could do within the White Lotus, now that the excitement of reporting back their intel to her was gone. Healing no longer seemed like a worthwhile effort, either. Everything he had once loved, that she had taught him to love, felt futile. What was the point of healing the world if death was the only true constant?

Time bled through the pages of his final chapters like water stains. After all, he still heard her name wherever he went, a slew of common interjections made even more frequent by the sanctification that had occurred in her death. “Yangchen protect me!” “Thank Yangchen!” or his least favorite, “Holy Yangchen!” littered the air around him callously and often. Like she wasn’t a real person. Like she had been a goddess, beyond reproach, beyond humanity. He refused to let himself believe it.

The first time he met the new Avatar, no spark of recognition flashed through his eyes – at least, not on his end. Perhaps the child had known, and had arrived with such intent to pester him for this reason, but Kavik had merely felt pestered. “Shoo!” Kavik said, waving a dismissive hand at the truant child, but the boy had simply beamed, and continued plying him with inane questions about his past.

However, he was not so far gone as not to notice that the boy bore an uncanny resemblance to him, at that age – if he ever had been so young. Or perhaps it was the uncanny resemblance he bore to her. Imperceptible mannerisms, the slightest gestures. No one could have possibly noticed it save for someone who had spent decades memorizing all the slightest nuances of her comportment and her affect. The way she put her hand on her chin when she concentrated, two fingers at the base of her jaw. The way she grinned, toothy and determined, whenever she knew that she had cornered him. The way she had persistently proven herself to be a pain in his ass.

“Will you play Pai Sho with me?” Kuruk asked, now, infuriatingly, a frequent occurrence. Kavik rarely entertained him, but his persistence would have been admirable had it not been propelled by the dogged, unrelenting heedlessness of youth.

“No,” said Kavik. “Go away.”

“Why not? It’s not like you have anything better to do,” Kuruk pointed out, gesturing to the empty bench on which he sat, halfheartedly chewing on a strip of seal jerky while staring blankly into the distance. He enjoyed this daily routine of his. He did not like to be disturbed.

“Your argumentation lacks charm,” said Kavik. “People are more willing to comply with your demands if you make them think it will benefit them in some way to do so. I currently see no benefit to acceding to your childish whims.”

“Will you please play Pai Sho with me?” Kuruk asked, batting his eyes. “You’re the best Pai Sho player I know. I want to learn from you.”

“Pai Sho is a silly game played by idiots,” Kuruk said. “Unless you plan on joining the Order, there is absolutely no reason for you to be indulging in that frivolous crap.”

“The Order?” Kuruk asked.

“You’ll learn when it’s time,” said Kavik.

“Sometimes I dream about you,” Kuruk said, entirely disrupting the flow of their badinage.

“That’s nice,” said Kavik, attempting to roll his eyes but giving up halfway through.

“You were so beautiful. What happened to you?” Kuruk asked. It seemed less playful, more mournful. So much for Kavik’s tranquil, uninterrupted afternoon of silence.

You died, he thought bitterly. “Age comes for us all, my boy. Some day you, too, shall be old and wrinkly and hideous.”

“Never!” exclaimed Kuruk, bringing a hand to his cheek. He was an exceedingly vain child. Had Kavik ever been so self-absorbed? He thought not. She surely hadn’t been. She had simply been beautiful anyway.

“Kuruk! Kuruk! Let’s go play!” shouted a random child from an obnoxious gaggle on the other side of the canal.

“Listen to your friends,” said Kavik, shooing him away.

“They’re not my friends,” Kuruk protested under his breath. “They’re idiots.”

“Yeah, stop bothering Old Man Kavik and come hang out with us!” exclaimed another kid.

“That’s not my name,” Kavik grumbled.

“I know, Master Kavik,” Kuruk said, his eyes wide and sincere. But Kavik could detect the traces of a suppressed, smug grin, all too much like hers, and did not fall for his hollow flattery.

“That was better,” he said. “But you still need to work on your tells. You can’t be too self-satisfied. It’s written all over your face.”

In fairness, he doubted anyone else would have picked up on it. But he had spent far too many tedious meetings with various officials over the years watching her chew the inside of her cheek. Watching her duck her head so as to hide her blush. Watching her hand cover her mouth in moments when she had gotten truly desperate, and clumsily attempted to veil her smile. He wondered just how many people had seen her do that enough times to take note of it. He supposed, with a keen pang, that he had been the only one.

“Kuruk!” called a child who did not concern him, besides the relief he could currently provide. “Are you coming or what?”

“Go,” said Kavik, with the gravity with which he had once relayed to Yangchen his more dubious plans, and Kuruk obeyed.

After all, he wanted the boy to have a childhood.

“You’re the only person who can do it,” Kuruk was saying – no, pleading – but Kavik barely heard him. He was busy eating his lunch.

He pointed to his lunch. “I’m eating my lunch,” he said, his mouth still half full.

“After lunch, then?” Kuruk asked.

“No,” said Kavik.

“Why not? Your schedule is clearly wide open!” Kuruk protested. “You used to be the greatest spy in the world, and now you won’t even teach one kid how to waterbend? You’ve lost it, man.”

“What did I tell you about flattery?” Kavik asked.

“I’m sorry,” said Kuruk, feigning shame. Man, this kid really was annoying. Had he ever been that smug? Surely not. “I’m just… frustrated, I guess. I really, really want you to be my master. Please.”

If his tears were fake, then Kavik at least had to give him credit for his acting chops. “Fine,” he relented. “One lesson. Basics only.”

“I already know the basics,” said Kuruk. “I wanna learn how to do your cool spy moves!”

“Basics only,” Kavik repeated, as if Kuruk merely had not heard him.

Kuruk huffed. “Fine,” he said.

“To begin, you will freeze and unfreeze this wet towel one hundred times.”

“Are you kidding me?!”

“No backtalk.”

“But–“

“Okay. Two hundred times.”

It felt like looking in a distorted mirror, like the ripples in the pond in the Spirit Oasis, the way Kuruk huffed with annoyance as he ran through Kavik’s exercises. He clearly fancied himself above such menial labor.

“You wanna be a great spy?” Kavik asked. “You need to learn how to leave no trace.” Kuruk attempted to nod, but it was evident he hardly believed him. “And you need to get better at lying, but that’s not really something I can teach you.” He had always been naturally gifted in that area, after all.

“Yes, Master,” Kuruk said through gritted teeth.

After approximately the one thousandth four hundredth and thirty first freeze of the same, poor towel, Kavik, too, had had enough.

“Okay, good,” he said. “I think you can give that towel a break. Tomorrow we start our healing unit.”

“Healing?!” Kuruk exclaimed. “But healing is for girls!”

Kavik pinched the bridge of his nose. What a stupid child. “It’s a necessary skill,” he said. “Especially for someone as reckless and impulsive as yourself.”

“Speaking from experience?” Kuruk asked, cocking an eyebrow. Kavik suddenly felt a flash of pain in his side, where his long-dead companion had once stabbed him, where his long-dead brother had once held him, pressed down on his wound to stop the bleeding he had inadvertently caused. Had crumbled. Folded like parchment. Not his only ill-advised tactic, to be sure.

“Don’t you dare talk back to me after everything I’ve done for you!” Kavik admonished with a stern finger.

“All you’ve done for me is make me freeze this towel a million times,” Kuruk said. “And don’t think I don’t see you getting some kind of sick pleasure out of boring me to death.”

At least the child was somewhat amusing. Kavik bit the inside of his cheek to suppress his smile. “One thousand four hundred and thirty one times,” he corrected.

“Did you know that I’m the Avatar?” Kuruk asked. He must have been about sixteen now, Kavik figured, roughly around the same age most Avatars learned of their unique status. Yangchen had been an exception, of course, in every possible way. He was beginning to understand why the people deemed her holy. Kuruk, on the other hand, was nothing to write home about, but he had developed a growing fondness for the boy over the years nonetheless.

“Of course,” said Kavik, idly swirling his glass, which Kuruk attempted to steal. Kavik let him, if only for the satisfaction of waterbending the beverage right out of his mouth just as he was about to take a sip.

“Hey!” Kuruk protested, his face a perfect portrait of comical indignation.

“It’s not nice to take people’s things,” Kavik said, biting his inner cheek. “Also, you shouldn’t drink.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kuruk asked. “If you knew I was the Avatar.”

“I assumed you also knew,” Kavik said. “You certainly made it seem so.”

“I mean, I guess,” mused Kuruk. “Mostly, I just felt inexplicably in love with the local wrinkly old curmudgeon and didn’t know what to do about it.”

In love. Yangchen had never used those exact words before. They had been frustratingly opaque around each other til the very end. But Kuruk, it seemed, was unfamiliar with the rules of their game.

“Okay, well, please don’t tell anyone you feel that way or they’ll literally have me arrested,” Kavik said. He supposed it was ironic, considering how much his barest affection for Kuruk was a product of time and his unrelenting persistence, rather than any residual love bleeding through. If anything, their connection proved a mark against his favor.

Kuruk laughed, as if the notion was remotely funny. “But you don’t even like me,” he said.

“While that may be true,” replied Kavik, “I am a wrinkly old man, and you are a young, fresh-faced boy. You would clearly be the victim, in such a scenario.”

“Well that’s not what I meant!” Kuruk protested. “I don’t even like guys!”

Kavik had no reason to doubt his claim. To his knowledge, Kuruk had somehow managed to have three separate girlfriends by the time he was fifteen, and the tenor of his sighs as he described each of them, each more longing and passionate than the last, could not be feigned.

“Yes, and the fact that you’re famously such a little ladies’ man certainly won’t swing the case in my favor,” Kavik pointed out.

“Fine, okay,” Kuruk grumbled. “I won’t bring it up again.”

“Thank you,” said Kavik. He certainly didn’t want to spend his final years in a jail cell.

“Anyway,” said Kuruk, mercifully changing the subject. “Since I’ll probably be leaving once I turn sixteen in a couple weeks, I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Okay,” said Kavik. “Bye.”

“What?” Kuruk asked with a disbelieving laugh. “That’s it? After everything we’ve been through together?”

“We have been through absolutely nothing together,” Kavik corrected. “You are not her.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Kuruk exclaimed. “We’ve been through a lot together! You and me! You taught me how to heal. You taught me how to lie. You taught me how to leave no trace.”

Kavik grimaced. “Well, hopefully, your other three masters will teach you how to be a good Avatar, seeing as all I could teach you was how to be a good Avatar’s companion.”

“Is there really nothing left you have to teach me?” Kuruk asked, his eyes brimming with tears. He was making a scene, and despite their shared solitude in the otherwise empty room, it somewhat embarrassed him. He wanted to tell Kuruk to get a hold of himself. Then he remembered that he hadn’t actually cried in at least fifteen years, and promptly shut his mouth for a good ten seconds.

“I don’t know,” Kavik finally responded. “I was never a very good hunter.”

The illness was slow to take effect. It was particularly excruciating since he did not fear death, but had long been impatient. People who had made no effort to visit him in his twilight years now paid their respects at his bedside, when all he wanted to do was sleep with the curtains firmly closed.

Only one visitor truly piqued his interest, and it was not his nephew’s daughter’s cousin’s bank teller. “Here to pay your respects?” Kavik wheezed.

Kuruk stood young and strong and proud, bearded and broad shouldered. He exuded the perfect ideal of a Water Tribe man. Kavik supposed he had bore such a portrait too, once, although at the time he had only envied Kalyaan’s lithe elegance.

“Aren’t you at least going to put up a fight?” Kuruk asked, his lashes trembling. He was still the same open wound, Kavik noted. But, admittedly, he had gotten better at hiding it, and that was all anybody could ever do.

“What for?” Kavik asked. “I’m long past due.”

“That’s not true,” said Kuruk, unreasonable and incorrect as ever.

“It is,” Kavik countered.

“Well, do you have any final wishes?” Kuruk asked, through gritted teeth. It seemed as if he knew that Kavik was right, which was good. At least he appreciated that now.

“Yes,” said Kavik. “Do close the curtains on your way out.”

There was the pain of losing a wife, and there was the pain of losing oneself. Kuruk now knew both intimately. His dreams returned, as they often did now, to his past lives. Sometimes to Szeto, but more often than not to his most recent memories. Kavik had been young and handsome until the day Yangchen had died. And then, it was like he had aged decades in six years. The first time Kuruk had seen him, as a small child, he had already grown desiccated and limp. And yet he had been desperately intrigued by him anyway, for reasons he could not yet explain.

In dreams, he was her, his hands soft and his fingers delicate, his hair long, and his robes orange. He had never slaughtered an animal, let alone a spirit, and everyone adored him for his effusive goodness and effortless grace. O, to have been born this. He understood now, finally, why Kavik resented him.

In dreams, Kavik was still mean, but now playfully so. A light shone in his eyes, and he radiated youthful mirth. His irritated sarcasm was a performance to be shrugged on and off at will, rather than his only skin. He carried himself with an easeful brilliance.

In dreams, when he was her, he never took his eyes off him.

And then he’d wake up, and remember where he was, who he was, his final request as he watched him die. And he wondered whether anyone at all would indulge in such a simple request for him.

#this is amazing!!#thank you for sharing!#queue #reblogs #kavik #kavik&kuruk #Kuruk #Atla

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meisun657 · 4 months ago

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i think eventually we're all just gonna have to come to terms with the fact that it's impossible to tell a story with any degree of subtlety or nuance without risking a portion of the audience taking the "wrong message", and that's ok. art isn't meant to be strictly a teaching tool, and if you're goal is just to convince people or critique an idea, just write an essay or a polemic

#queue #reblogs #stories

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meisun657 · 5 months ago

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I'm getting so sick of major female characters in historical media being incredibly feisty, outspoken and public defenders of women's rights with little to no realistic repercussions. Yes it feels like pandering, yes it's unrealistic and takes me out of the story, yes the dialogue almost always rings false - but beyond all that I think it does such a disservice to the women who lived during those periods. I'm not embarrassed of the women in history who didn't use every chance they had to Stick It To The Man. I'm not ashamed of women who were resigned to or enjoyed their lot in life. They weren't letting the side down by not having and representing modern gender ideals. It says a lot about how you view average ordinary women if the idea of one of your main characters behaving like one makes them seem lame and uninteresting to you.

#queue #reblogs #atla #feminism in media

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meisun657 · 6 months ago

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ATLA fandom and other fandom spaces have been ruined by purity culture, an essay.

In recent years I've noticed a trend, and call it what you will but it looks like a shift in cultural dynamics in how specifically Western (but mostly American) fanbases have interacted with media.

In short: there is an obsession with purity.

For lack of a better term, let's call it "an extreme form of wokeness." I know how this sounds, but I truly cannot think of a better way to describe this phenomenon.

Before I continue, I'm not one of the people who hates progressiveness or representation in media. I'm one of the people who champion it. However, I have noticed that ironically, this obsession with making everything positive, pure, and acceptable has watered down how both newer media and fandom have chosen to perceive a story.

Because this is the fandom I have been in the longest and seen the most of, I'm highlighting how purity culture has taken the Avatar: The Last Airbender (ATLA) fandom and shaken it to its bloody core.

Purity culture and the Netflix live-action

The ATLA fandom is stuck in a cycle of purity culture that actually renders the original media worse through perception and it's a thing that resulted in the Netflix live-action (NATLA) being what it is.

Both the fans of the original show and as a result, the creators of NATLA itself, became so afraid to let the main characters be flawed or have negative traits. In NATLA, Sokka's first season sexism was cut because of its problematic nature. In fact, they removed most forms of sexism in NATLA. The irony is that it made the show itself more sexist.

NATLA's Sokka was always right, always keeping the family together. His wanting to prove himself and keep the family together are not new traits different from the original Sokka, but these are highlighted with hardly any negativity. Sokka starts where season two Sokka is. He doesn't get a chance to learn and grow and be punched into sense by Suki.

And because Katara didn't grow up with a sexist brother, her character suffers too. She loses half of her fighting spirit. She doesn't feel the need to prove herself as strongly and is only driven by grief/guilt rather than an additional personal interest. So when there is finally a sexist scene in the Northern Water Tribe and she fights Pakku, it feels unearned. Pakku calls the North culturally sexist, but we had no build-up or evidence. And Yue is a strong powerful woman already from the North, so where is the basis?

Instead, Katara calls herself a master without learning from practiced masters. All unearned.

In another vein, Zuko suffers the same way and so does Iroh. Zuko is angry, sure. He whines like the teenager he is, but he is already portrayed as a misunderstood character rather than the antagonist he is supposed to be. His anger is simmered down, he doesn't want to burn down Suki's village. He has to be pure and perfect because he's a "good" character.

Iroh starts largely the same as in ATLA, but he gets constantly bombarded with reminders of what the Fire Nation did, and therefore him. This is a war crime Iroh who should never be liked, of course. Because he's not pure. He's not perfect. (Can you feel me rolling my eyes?)

Purity culture and the perception of ATLA's beloved characters

I already started on Iroh, but let's go a little deeper.

Where did this idea start? Well, the ATLA fandom is so obsessed with being pure and good that there have been fans who have pointed out that liking Iroh and Iroh as a character is so problematic because he committed war crimes.

Oh no, heavens forbid that a show set during a wartime period has characters who have dark backgrounds and committed atrocities! Let's just throw gray morality out the window!

If you're talking about war crimes listed from the Geneva Conventions, then sure he did. But also, ATLA is set in our real world's equivalent of the 1800s. There were no set war crimes then if you want to get technical.

But also, and I say this with the utmost respect, war itself is a giant crime. Are you saying that there's a low possibility of Zuko not having committed war crimes? What about Hakoda or any of the Avatars? If I got you there, if you are scrambling for an answer, then maybe you understand my bafflement at this fabricated issue about Iroh.

It is OK to let characters have dark pasts and reckon with them. It is OK to like them as characters because good writing will allow you to like the character and not necessarily the person the character is all the time.

Saying it's not OK to like a character because of a past misdeed that they have grown from stems not only from purity culture but from cancel culture too. It's almost like the fandom doesn't care that someone can change. And, without these flaws, all you have is a flat character that no one can learn from. I sometimes see these kinds of flat portrayals and interpretations in fanworks.

Purity culture and shipping

If I'm about to open another can of worms, I might as well do it with a bang. So, let me just list a few of the ATLA shipping fandoms where I have noticed purity culture coloring how they ship and who they will "allow" to be shipped:

Kataang

Zutara

Zukaang

Taang

(I'll admit, most of the ships.)

Kataang fandom:

They have a weird obsession with Aang being pure and right all the time because he's the main character. He can't have flaws. If he does then he's an abuser and Katara is in an abusive relationship.

In a newer phenomenon, Aang has to be aged up. Let's make Aang two years older than Katara rather than younger by two years. It's more acceptable to have an older male in a hetero relationship anyway. Might as well totally nix the fact that men being younger than women in a relationship is a thing that exists. It's not as accepted so, change it I guess?

Oh, and since it's also more acceptable, let's portray Aang with hair and always older. Hair is way more acceptable than voluntarily shaving your head or being bald. Let's throw his Air Nomad heritage out the window while we're at it.

Zutara fandom:

In a related vein, it's suddenly OK for Katara to be with Zuko because she's younger and Zuko is more "mature" than Aang.

Zuko is the older man and Katara is the younger woman, so it's more acceptable. Might as well keep it pure, right?

Zuko is never wrong of course. He's way past being flawed. He no longer has his Fire Nation background where it will take years to get rid of learned and inherent racism cultivated from a hundred years of war against the other nations. Katara also has to be super accepting of it too otherwise she's too flawed.

Zukaang fandom:

Honestly, this one isn't as much within the Zukaang fandom itself, but rather other ship fandoms ganging up on this one idea that if Aang is four years younger than Zuko it's wrong.

However, I'm sure there are those within the Zukaang fandom who bend this rule to their own benefit and pretend they're the same age in their fanworks because it's more acceptable.

Let's ignore the fact that there are real-life couples who are four years apart or the fact that there are larger age gaps that exist. Purity culture dictates that age differences are unacceptable because it might be pedophilic, but who am I to call this out?

No one is saying that a full adult should date a child, Karen. Newsflash, when you grow up, a four-year age gap becomes more and more negligible.

Don't get me started on pointing out that an age gap seems to be fine with hetero couples (see the above couples), but not same-sex ones. No, I don't care if the age gap is smaller in Kataang and Zutara. An age gap is an age gap. The ATLA fandom is the same one that says two years is too much between Aang and Katara but is acceptable between Katara and Zuko.

Does the fandom see something I don't?

Taang fandom

Toph and Aang are the same age.

I think I explained enough.

TLDR

The ATLA fandom has come to a point in which it cannot decide between the original story itself and what they have deemed acceptable in real life.

The purity culture within the ATLA fandom may be influenced by the notion that this is a children's show we're fangirling over. But, so are many fandoms. I'm aware that many people come to the ATLA fandom with a sense of nostalgia and many people who grew up with the show have associated it with childhood. Which is fine, but will that really dictate how you move forward? You can mature with the media you consume.

The fandom suffers from not understanding that media consumption should be an experience, not a fallacy. Nor should the fandom fear the prospect of flaws and nuance. It sadly comes to questioning the state of media literacy.

If a fandom is to thrive, it should embrace what storytelling is: a way to express feelings and sometimes to learn things. We cannot learn anything if everything is perfectly within one specific idea of acceptable.

#queue #reblogs #atla #stories

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meisun657 · 6 months ago

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#queue #reblogs #owl house #cooking

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meisun657 · 6 months ago

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Who Wants To Talk About Japanese Orthography In Manga???

Me, it's me, I do, and I have been chomping at the bit to get the chance to.

Orthography refers to the conventions of written language to represent sounds. That may bring to mind the idea of rigid grammar rules or spelling standardization, but in a linguistic sense, orthography simply describes observable trends across language use. This isn't about authority--I am not going to talk about what schools teach or say people should write one way or another. This is about examining how real people use written language creatively to convey different things in popular media.

This is a huge topic, so I'm only going to use examples from MHA to highlight Horikoshi's style.

First, let's get a run-down of the main parts of written Japanese and how they tend to be used.

We've got kanji and kana; kanji are logograms, while kana are syllabaries. Kana refers to both hiragana and katakana collectively, but we will delineate the two from here on.

The Wikipedia page for kanji, describing this more succinctly than I'm about to.

For clarity, I'm gonna color-code each one.

Let's take a quick look at all three in action.

Chapter 65

By virtue of being the syllabary that grammar particles are written in, hiragana can get away a lot that kanji and katakana can't.

You can write simple sentences in hiragana alone, like so:

The sentence is perfectly comprehensible like this, but it reads as casual or perhaps a bit immature, like the person is either leaving out kanji for speed or simplicity (like online) or they aren't confident using kanji. Although, the word hito (person) is extremely common and its kanji is simple, so this would probably look more natural:

But there are also kanji for the word kawaii, so you could also write it this way:

On the other hand, writing the whole thing in katakana looks weird as fuck:

bECAuSE iT kINDA reADS LIKE THis, or maybe L I K E T H I S

It seems almost alien, overemphasizing the phonetic sound of the words, implying there's something notable or unusual about them.

But what if you write it like this?

Both ways use katakana to put flavor on a specific word. The first puts it on person, which could be used in a situation where someone hasn't been named yet, but the speaker tonally emphasizes your knowledge of them--like "oh, you know who."

The second emphasizes cute, which could read as sexually suggestive, teasing/joking, or even a threatening tone, depending on the context. "Real cute, ain't they?"

Basically, the connecting grammar bits need to be in hiragana, but nouns, verbs, and adjectives can typically be written in any of the three systems. That introduces choice into the matter, and these choices may have some cultural connotations.

This is a subtlety in written Japanese that manga loves to take advantage of. Orthography contributes a lot to characterization and tone, so individual creators develop little quirks as part of their own writing style.

Now let's finally take a gander at some of Horikoshi's!

Kanji instead of hiragana for semantic emphasis

Chapter 48

Best Jeanist could have used only hiragana for the word "good" (いい, ii), which is a very common way to write it. But he's not just commenting that they are nice kids, he's talking about them as "goodie two-shoes" and even puts brackets around the idea. The kanji emphasizes the cultural idea of a Good Child™, a well-behaved, morally upright, obedient young person.

Kanji instead of hiragana denoting a serious or severe tone

Chapter 36

Katsuki's "you" pronoun omae being written with kanji comes across as markedly serious, especially compared to how his dialogue is normally written. This is actually the only time Katsuki says omae and it is written with kanji--all the rest are in hiragana, which tends to read as more casual.

Hiragana instead of kanji denoting a gentle tone or youthful/childlike language

Chapters 129 and 183

Katsuki and his omae show us how kanji use can be seen as more mature and serious; Eri's dialogue does the opposite of this by using hiragana when it could use kanji, emphasizing her youth and innocence.

Katakana instead of hiragana or kanji for emphasis or slang

Chapters 209, 207, and 2

As I detailed above, one of katakana's most common uses is similar to italics or all-caps.

But you also tend to see slang written with it, and depending on the slang, the word being in katakana can immediately clarify it from other, perhaps more standard meanings. In Jirou's case, her personal pronoun uchi can mean a couple other things, so it being written in katakana clarifies her usage. It could arguably also imply she is taking a bit of an argumentative tone--Katsuki's slang is typically written in katakana for both of these reasons!

Katakana denoting regional dialect/accent, nonstandard pronunciation/muddled speech, or confused articulation

Chapters 102, 208, 394, and 2

Ochako gets flustered and defaults to her regional Kansai dialect. Instead of "chigau wa" (Tokyo dialect), she says "chau wa" repeatedly.

Katsuki and Toga both drop the w- sound from a word. Katsuki says "ore a" instead of "ore wa," while Toga says the word "kawaiku" as "ka'aiku" and "kawaii" as "ka'aii." Notice how the katakana which represents the vocal omission/hiccup is actually smaller than the others? That's also a little stylistic detail for communicating this kind of nonstandard speech.

Izuku repeats All Might's words, chikara wo, in a confused daze because he isn't following All Might's point. By removing the kanji especially, this kind of katakana emphasizes him sounding the words out without recognizing the underlying meaning.

Basically, Japanese has some excellent ~vibes-based~ orthography because of how the language is structured!

Of course, you find this kind of thing in English as well--especially in the age of the internet, where people note that "how dare u" reads as tonally distinct from "how dare you." As you develop language fluency, you tend to pick up these things subconsciously more than anything, but it's one of my favorite things to analyze and compare.

These are just a few examples and my own interpretations of them. I'm sure there are many more uses and flavor-nuance I'm not picking up on. Since any given choice can be read a few different ways, context is very important. My examples aren't definitive proof of anything, but it can be fun to keep these kinds of details in mind while reading.

Shueisha and Shonen Jump surely have in-house standards for text, and mangaka must operate within that range. That said, I have indeed seen every one of these examples in other manga as well.

And on the independent side of things, doujinshi and online manga are basically the wild frickin' west--I have seen tons of totally crazy, highly creative ways to take advantage of the unique flexibility found in Japanese, but that's a post for another day.

I will probably write more about this kind of thing in the future when I can pinpoint some more observations, but I hope you all enjoyed the ride. <3

#language #mha #bnha #queue #reblogs

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