mnetruinedmylife

[mnetruinedmylife]

Chakra Fuelled Nightmares

Title: Chakra Fuelled Nightmares

Fandom: Dreamcatcher

Summary: Gahyeon has one month left until her enlistment ends. One month to keep under the radar and then she gets to go home without playing human battery for anyone. Unfortunately Master Warrior Kim JiU has lost another consort and is looking for a new one. Master JiU who hasn’t kept a single consort alive for more than a month.

Pairings: Poly, Gahyeon/JiU, Dami/Yoohyeon/Handong, Yoohyeon/JiU, Sua/Siyeon

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36263743/chapters/90400930

[mnetruinedmylife]

Untitled Gang AU

This is just my need to write an AKB Gang AU combined with shameless Yuunaa. It’s written in mostly stream of consciousness writing, so the topic jumps to whatever connection my brain jumps to, it can get a little disorientating at times.  It’s also kind of unfinished, but I didn’t want it sitting in a file collecting dust, so here it is.

Warnings: this piece includes: mentions of violence, though nothing too graphic; traumatic flashbacks; mildly sexually charged scenes, though nothing truly nsfw.

 _____________________________________________________________

The town of Akihabara is a place of conflict and contradictions.

Located in the central ward of Tokyo, it has the highest rate of organised crime activity in all of Japan. The police will claim that there are no gangs in Akihabara – after all, the businesses are flourishing and the tourists come in droves, there is no safer place. Yet, every denizen knows that the infamous 48 Gangs originated in there, and it’s even a point of pride for a few.

If the press interviews a resident, they’ll swear up and down that they’ve never felt safer anywhere else. But more than once has a tourist revealed that they’ve been told by locals scuttling about to either stay on the nearby streets north and west of Akihabara train station after dark, or else not go wandering about at all.

The Akihabara sect of the 48 Gangs themselves are full of conflicting information too.

Sometimes, when the residents manage to acknowledge that they exist, one may hear them whisper in hushed tones about how they’re vigilantes, heroes who do the right thing when the police can’t or won’t. But in the same breath they’d tell you to stay away from one particular café in the Hanaokacho district, and the theatre near Taito station. The members of the AKB sect themselves would laugh themselves sick at the term, all the while shooting a defenceless man in the head without batting an eye, because they’re not heroes. They have their own goals, their own plans, most of which revolve around protecting their own, their members, their family, and if some things extend towards heroism, than that’s just a coincidence, and if some things stretch closer to the other side, well, that’s fine too.

Word on the street says it starts during the days when multiple factions ran rampant all over Tokyo. When kids were recruited right out of high school (and some still in it) into the Project gangs and prostitution rings. Some say a man rose up to create a force that could clean up the streets and keep the gang violence where it belongs – between gangs and not involving civilians.

Aki-P they called him, the man who swept up the capitol’s underbelly.

People say also he’s the same man who created the Sakamichi Syndicate and started the bloodiest turf war Tokyo has ever seen. Some say he did it because he gave up on the AKB sect, when they started losing their way and becoming more dangerous than the gangs they rose up against. Others say he did it after losing control of the 48 Gangs, that he was ousted from the inner circle and so created a rival faction as vengeance.

No matter how different the stories get, they all have one similarity. The 48 Gangs are dangerous, the sect in Akihabara doubly so, and anyone who gets in their way, or harms anyone in their sphere, or dares to challenge their grip over Tokyo, take heed and be on the lookout.

They’ll come for you.

__________________________________________________________)

Okada Nana is fifteen when she boards a train from Kanagawa to Tokyo and doesn’t look back.

Kojima Mako and Nishino Miki are similar ages, and in similar situations when they run into each other, having decided to pickpocket the same mark, and the three of them decide to run together. The streets are a little less intimidating with two sets of eyes to watch your back, and two bodies to keep you warm at night.

Mako’s the devious one, with her heart-melting gummy smiles and disarming laugh, she’s able to charm any passer-by and con them out of their hard earned money.

“Sorry sir, I’ve lost my parents, can I please borrow three hundred yen for the train fare?”

It works more often than not, there’s never a shortage of businessmen willing to play hero and help out a stranded school girl. And if she steals the rest of their wallet when they’re not looking, well they usually don’t notice until it’s too late.

Miki is bolder. She takes items right off of shelves when she walks by, and isn’t afraid to go after other street kids who wander into the space they’ve claimed as their own.

Sometimes she’s a little too bold, “Let’s get lunch from there.”

And that’s where Nana comes in. She’s the cautious one, the voice of reason, the brains behind the operations as small and simple as it is.

“We can’t go in there,” Nana hisses, grabbing the other two by the backs of their collars before they do something stupid.

“Why not? The foods cheaper in there than anywhere else in the city,” Miki points out, not unreasonably.

But Nana is adamant, “Yeah for good reason. That café belongs to AKB.”

The innocuous street side café about a minute’s walk from Akihabara station is something of a local legend in the area. Anyone above thirty avoids it like the plague because of the rumours of it being owned by the 48 Gangs, or perhaps it simply just serves the members of AKB. The little number 48 carved into the brickwork above the café doors is a symbol of that.

However, it is popular amongst the youth of the city for that very reason. With many hanging out there to bask in the rebellious feeling of danger, or on adventurous dares from friends. Whispers fly about AKB recruiting from the youth who flock there. A few yankees even claim to be initiates recruited from there. They’re all bald faced liars. No prospective recruit would be stupid enough to loiter in a known gang-owned establishment.  

A few have, however, been known to have been recruited around the station. Our little trio of street rats like to linger around the area, pickpocketing the stupid school kids, the otakus heading to the Gundam café across the street, and the rich folk visiting the golf club on the other side of the block.

They do that for months before they’re approached by a member of AKB.  

Okada Nana is sixteen when Minegishi Minami approaches her and her friends with an offer they can’t refuse.

Her first job is with Mako and two other recruits. They’re tasked with the simple job of delivering a package and Nana has to wonder what’s so important that there needs to be four of them for this. Or maybe it’s not so important, considering there are four barely trained, fresh faced initiates on the job.

They scuttle about the train line, Mako skipping along merrily, Hikari following behind quietly, with Nana and Ayana bickering the whole way. They deliver the package without any issues worth mentioning to one Itano Tomomi at an upscale bar in the heart of the city. It turns out to be cold hard cash, and Nana goes white at the thought of possibly losing that much money. Or rather, what the gang would do to them if they lost that much money.

The next few jobs follow in a similar manner. Nana gets to know the names and quirks of her fellow runners. Innocent, seemingly useless things like:

Iwatate Saho is stronger than she looks.

“Oh god he’s unconscious…are you planning on joining Team K?”

“No, too dangerous. I’m thinking Team B. You know, manning the cafes and the casinos and stuff.”

Mogi Shinobu doesn’t do so well under pressure.

“What the-!? Mogi-san why didn’t you just shoot him?”

“I panicked!”

“I can’t believe you want to join Team A, you’ll die in a week.”

Murayama Yuiri is stupidly pretty.

“Yuiri-chan…We’re half an hour in the wrong direction. You had the map upside down.”

“Sorry! I’m sorry, usually Naa-chan corrects me when I do this, I mean, I’m not blaming Naa-chan! It’s just she…Naa-chan what are you looking at?”

“Err nothing. Nothing, I got distracted.”

Takashima Yurina has somewhat of a crush on her.

“Naa-chan I bought drinks.”

“Where’s one for the rest of us?”

Uchiyama Natsuki knows a ridiculous amount about the law.

“Article 13: every individual has the liberty of protecting his or her own personal information from being disclosed to a third party or made public without good reason.”

“Somehow I doubt beating him up would fly as ‘taking the liberty to protect our property’.”

Apparently they do a somewhat of a good job, because Nana finds herself selected as part of a joint project between all the 48 Gangs. She, Mako and Miki are the representatives of the Akihabara sect and Nana wonders how the hell the upper echelons decided on that.  

“So, what are your specialties?” somehow it falls to Nana to lead this ragtag group.

The Namba sect representative Shibuya Nagisa is actually the oldest (by a few months) but she’s no more experienced than they are – Nana finds out later, the reason why all of the sects sent their freshest recruits. It’s all internal politics, and a mission too important to turn down, but not important enough to ensure successful. In short, they’re expendable and they weren’t even expected to make it home.

The job is in Tokyo, so Nana takes the reigns by default.

She finds that leadership suits her.

It feels like a natural extension of what she was already doing when they were just three idiots on the street, planning operations meticulously so that they come back in one piece, and utilising the skills of her teammates in the most efficient way possible. There are three more idiots to account for now, but she is familiarised with them soon enough.

Nagisa is the strongest in hand-to-hand combat amongst the seven of them, Sakae’s Ryoha the most accurate shot, Hakata’s Meru joins Miki in being the loud charismatic distraction, while Mako and Hakata’s Mio are swift and sneaky with their hands. It’s the perfect team for covert operations. Which makes sense, considering they’re being sent south of the Kanda river, into Sakamichi territory to gather intel on the new gang that’s popped up by the Roppongi hills.

It seems like a simple mission.

Get in, look around for suspicious activity, get out. There isn’t supposed to be confrontation or combat involved.

But no plan survives contact with the enemy, and no one cares about supposed to be’s when there are guns pointed at their heads.

When she’s desperately wrestling with a knife that wants nothing more than to dig into her flesh, when she’s slammed against the wall, breath knocked out of her, when a pair of hands wrap around her throat and squeeze, and her lungs scream as her legs thrash uselessly underneath, her vision blurs, and the terrifying realisation that she won’t actually get out of this situation alive sets in – oh god is that Miki screaming she hears in the background? – the air is rushing out her lungs and –

“Naa-chan. Naa-chan! Snap out of it, you’re not there anymore.”

Nana eyes fly open, as she dashes up, heart still thudding in her chest. She has to make sure everyone’s okay, what happened to Miki, and oh god Mio was stabbed, and where the hell is Mako, and they lost contact with Ryoha half an hour in, and Nagisa is unconscious, and no matter how deep a breath she takes, it doesn’t seem to be enough. Her chest burns, she can’t breathe and – a hand lands on her shoulder, the accompanying scent of hinoki pine only just barely manages to stamp down the instinct to lash out.

Yuiri’s concerned face drags her back to reality, “It’s okay. You’re home. You’re not there, you’re safe now,” to the little hole in the wall apartment she has (firmly on the AKB side of the Kanda river), to the bed she’s sharing with the pretty distraction on her team. Though, perhaps that would be unkind to say, even if she refuses to think of what they’re doing as anything more than just stress relief, blowing off steam.  

Belatedly Nana realises that she has a death grip on Yuiri’s upper arm, she loosens her grip but doesn’t let go, “S-sorry,” her hands are shaking, she’s trembling and she can’t get it to stop, and Yuiri’s murmuring nonsense things in her ear.

“Why are you sorry? I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot,” Yuiri apologises with a grimace. They’ve established early on that Nana does not like hands anywhere near her neck, that one horrendous mission spoiled that forever, but sometimes Yuiri forgets, and the resulting post-traumatic flashbacks are the most mood-killing thing possible in the bedroom, or sometimes out of it too.

The first time it happens is in a street by the AKB theatre of all places. It’s after a job with just the two of them, when they’re both high on adrenaline, breaths heavy, eyes glazed, still in the heat of violence, fresh from a near-death scuffle. Nana’s not sure who jumps whom first, but suddenly they’re in each other’s space, hands tangled in hair, and tongue against teeth. Yuiri tastes like citrus that night, some kind of lemon mixed, and the deeper she kisses her the more she can taste the metallic tang of blood and the salt of sweat mixed in.

Nana closes her eyes tightly, a low, throaty moan of approval rumbles deep in her throat as her back hits the wall with a light thud, the moan turning markedly louder as the elder girl’s fingers slip inside the waistband of her shorts and shoves them down over her hips. Strong, forceful fingers dig into her and pull her in even tighter as her mouth is once again claimed in a desperate, hungry kiss.

“Yuu-chan,” she moans, gasping at the feel of the other girl’s tongue against her throat.

“Yes?” Yuiri’s lips curls into a smile against Nana’s, she groans low and deep as Yuiri’s hips grinds into her own.

“Don’t stop.”

It’s easier with Yuiri, they understand each other in ways her other teammates simply don’t. Maybe it’s because the most of the others are like what Nana was at first, just street kids and lowly thieves dragged in way over their heads. When Nana and Mako come back from that FUBAR recon mission with their hands soaked in blood, the others look at them different. With wariness in their eyes, with guarded stances, with hints of fear in their faces.

Mako’s stupid grin thaws their hesitance soon enough. But Nana has never been that kind of charismatic. Not in the way that makes other at ease. She’s always been harder, more serious, and that only makes her look much more intimidating now.

“You’re still here?” Nana raises an eyebrow when she realises that Yuiri is still lingering about. These days, most of her team disappear faster than a blink of an eye the moment the job is done, not wanting to be around for longer than necessary.

But Yuiri only looks at Nana like she’s the one being unreasonable, “Don’t we usually go for kakigori after a job?”

“You want to have desserts with me? What, not afraid I’ll snap and kill you?” Nana asks, sadly only half sarcastically, because with the way the rest of the team treat her, it seems that’s exactly what they’re thinking.  

The other girl snorts and actually has the audacity to chuckle, “You’re going to have do a lot more than be traumatised to scare me. I’m sure I’ve killed more people than you.”

Yuiri wasn’t some street kid when she got recruited. She was born into this world, her family neck-deep in the underbelly of Japan, and she’s no stranger to violence. There’s only one other like that on their team, Nana would’ve overlooked Mion entirely if Yuiri hadn’t pointed her out.

“You can always tell when someone’s killed before,” Yuiri says, “It’s in the eyes.”

The months blur into years, and before Nana knows it most of her team have the same eyes, the ones who are still alive anyway. The ones who are left split off into the different teams of AKB eventually. Mako, Ayana, Mogi and Komiharu are sent to Team K, with their dangerous combat orientated jobs and Nana just hopes they keep coming home. Saho and Saki are off in the relatively safer B, the front jobs, manning the café and the casinos and the above-board stations. Yukari and Mion end up in A, and Nana hopes beyond hope that they don’t lose themselves in there.

Nana and Yuri themselves never leave 4. They’re the ones chosen to train up the newbies, and she has no idea who thought that is a good idea. She never actually does anything too important in the gang – up until the moment she accidentally founds an entirely new sect.

She’d been in Fukuoka visiting Mio and Meru, and it’s in Hiroshima, on her way back to Tokyo that Nana manages to get herself recognised and chased. She hated cults with a passion. Why did they have a problem with her anyway? It’s not like the 48 Gangs had territory claimed in Hiroshima –

Ow.

She falls off the fence the she’s attempting to climb over and lands on her back with a dull thud. The grass is soft at least. She spends a few moments just staring up at the night sky, it’s actually quite breathtaking when you’re far away enough from the city lights to appr—

“Are you okay?”

Oh, there’s a kid in pink and purple. A teenager really. Nana can’t tell ages anymore.

“…m’fine. Sorry didn’t mean to land in your backyard,” she says. An apartment complex’s backyard anyway, she realises when she sits up. It’s a rundown building that’s clearly not in official use. It appears there are kids squatting in it.

It’s difficult to tell in the dark, but when Nana squints she can make out maybe two more teens peeking out from behind a window.

“Wanna come inside?” the girl asks, and Nana really really shouldn’t.

A gunshot sounds in the air though, and Nana quickly scrambles to follow the kid inside. Being noble is all well and good, but it definitely doesn’t beat being alive.

When Nana awakens the next morning, she hears furious whisperings back and forth between the teens – and there’s clearly more of them this morning than there was last night.

“—it’s dangerous, she’s clearly a member of the 48 Gangs! You saw that tattoo!” an unknown voice hisses, and Nana wonders when and how they saw the little 48 tattoo on the back of her neck. That’s not usually visible and she’s usually a light enough sleeper to wake up if they touch her.

“Yeah, that means she can help us!” that’s Chiho, one of the girls she remembers half-heartedly greeting the night before. The one with the bruises on her face.

“We can’t trust a gang member!”

“So what else are we going to do? They took Yumirin, we’ll never get her back ourselves!”

Nana’s always had a soft spot for stupid kids. It’s probably why they never took her off Team 4, and how she finds herself hopping all over the setouchi region, rescuing girls from a fox worshipping cult.

Girls who somehow end up forming the Setouchi sect of the 48 Gangs – Sashihara-san comes down from Fukuoka to make it official and everything.

Mogi never lets her forget it.

“Hey Naa-chan, remember the time you went to visit Mio and Meru and ended up playing prince charming and rescuing ten damsels in distress?”  

 _____________________________________________________________)

Might finish it later, might not. Who knows...

[mnetruinedmylife]

Chapter Two: Lilypichu - Dinners and Homecooked Dishes

“—here at Charitable Comforts, we believe everyone deserves to be comfortable. So please, donate what you can this holiday season, and help someone less fortunate be just a little more comfortable.”

Lily’s headache begins at a Christmas fundraising event. She’s in one of the large marquee tents, sorting through the boxes and boxes of donations, looking like a Christmas tree spewed all over her. Business as usual for Charitable Comforts – the unusual part is when her second-in-command Aria bursts into the tent, looking like she just ran a marathon. Now Aria doesn’t normally get herself directly involved with the charity’s business, being too entwined with the Cartel’s dirty work, so the fact that she’s on the grounds of the fundraiser at all is alarming.

[mnetruinedmylife]

They make something of a name for themselves in the underground. Sykkuno and Valkyrae, the mercenary duo you call when you want to disappear somebody. It shouldn’t be half the surprise it is when a man in a pair of tinted sunglasses, dressed in a suit a little too nice for business formal enters Sykkuno’s little gardening store.

“The name’s Toast, and I’ve got a proposition for you two on behalf of Don Scarra.”

[mnetruinedmylife]

MJ3 Clones

Based upon a tumblr post that I can no longer find (the link is dead)

https://callmeawota.tumblr.com/post/85499142124/what-if-prison-hope-was-just-a-prison-full-of

What if in Majisuka Gakuen 3, Prison Hope is just a dumping ground for out-of-control government clones of the MG1-5 cast?

__________________________________________________________

The story begins the way it ends – in a dreary ramshackle pub sandwiched between two concrete buildings.

Two people sit on opposite sides of the tattered booth couches, a middle aged man with peppered hair in a grey suit, and a young woman with in bob haircut and a pair of wiry spectacles. The man appears friendly, fingers strumming on the splintered wooden tables, sipping on piss-poor beer in a questionably murky mug, while the woman eyes the stack of papers in front of her dubiously.

“That’s it?” she asks, skimming through the sheet in front of her, “You’ll give me thirty million yen for some skin and blood samples?”

“That’s all there is to it Maeda-san,” the man replies smoothly, “Just sign the contract and we’ll have a team come to collect the samples at your convenience, and the money will be deposited in your account on that very day.”

Now Maeda Atsuko may be a former yankee-delinquent, and she might not have been the most studious student in her schooling career, but she definitely isn’t stupid. There has got to be more to this than what they’re telling her, and that’s not even counting what they could possibly be planning to do with her DNA samples. News articles about scientific research looking at what caused all of the random abilities that started popping up in people about thirty or so years ago flash through her mind. Abilities like Black’s super speed, Gekikara’s endurance and Torigoya’s psychic hypnosis.

Atsuko never thought she had an ability, because in her mind, super strength has always been associated with lifting trucks and buildings, and she definitely cannot do that. Then that news article came out about some big scandal where a medical company was found to be experimenting on people with abilities, trying to replicate them. In particular the story was focused on a girl who had augmented strength, nothing flashy like the movies and TV shows, just strong enough to have a weird discrepancy between her muscle-mass and the amount of power she could exert. The realisation hits Atsuko like a train – a girl her size probably shouldn’t be able to hit as hard, or get up after taking so many hits like she does. She cuts back on the cage fighting, and the bodyguard jobs after that. No need to be flashing ‘I’m a powered person!’ sign with neon lights over her head. Apparently that didn’t work out too well because there’s a supposed government agent sitting across from her trying to get her DNA samples.

“And what exactly are you going to do with the samples?”

“I’m afraid that’s classified Maeda-san. You needn’t worry yourself over trivialities like that. Rest assured that whatever happens won’t be your responsibility at all.”

Long story short, there isn’t a single good thing that can come from giving this shady (potentially non-government, because who is this cheap-beer-drinking guy think he’s fooling?) organisation her DNA.

But it’s not like she has much of a choice.

As it turns out, being arrested and charged for assault doesn’t do much for job prospects. Particularly when there’s been a colourful history of violence and delinquency before that. So no matter how hard she studied, Atsuko never quite managed to land that job as a nurse. Casual retail work, and odd cash-in-hand jobs barely manage to keep her afloat all these years, but now…a hand subconsciously ghosts down to her stomach…she’s not feeding one anymore.

The choice isn’t difficult to make.

________________________________________________________________

Atsuko assumes that they’re using her DNA to study and replicate abilities.

She’s dead wrong.

This company has decidedly bigger aspirations.

________________________________________________________________

Project Beginnings and Subject MA#071091 Alias: Atsuko| Parent DNA: Maeda Atsuko |

Time Stamp Nineteen Hundred Hours. Subject MA#071091 is a success.

“Congratulations everyone!”

Time Stamp Zero Eight Fifteen Hours. Subject MA#071091 is refusing to cooperate. Possible solutions:

a. immediate termination (not recommended, last resort only)

b. behavioural observation and adjustment (recommended, more funding required)

c. obedience training* see service dog manual for more details (recommendation pending)

d. memory implantation (theoretical only, much more funding required)

Time Stamp Zero Zero Zero Five Hours. Subject MA#071091 has escaped facility.

“This program is an abomination! Human cloning is illegal!”

Time Stamp Zero Zero Thirty-Nine Hours. Subject MA#071091 retrieved with mild damage. Losses include: five injured personnel, and two casualties.  

“Senator think of what we can do with a project like this! We could remove all personnel from the field, drop war casualties to zero. These girls are good-for-nothing delinquents, but they’ve shown they could do one thing: fight. So why not use that for the good of the country?”

Time Stamp Fifteen Twenty-Six. Petition to the senate is a success. Funding for project expansion acquired.

“There’s an eccentric millionaire willing to work with us. She owns a private prison on some remote mountain. It’d be the perfect place for that behavioural observation and adjustment facility we’ve been discussing.”

Time Stamp Seventeen Thirty-Three Hours. Memory Alteration Project is a success.

“We finally got our hands on those samples from that warehouse massacre a few years back. Begin working on all viable subjects.”

Time Stamp Zero Five Hundred Hours. Subject MA#071091 has escaped Prison Facility.

“Try adding sunshine and rainbows. Happy thoughts. Make it happy to be here.”

Time Stamp Ten Zero Fifty-Seven Hours. Subject MA#071091 retrieved with major damage. Losses include three injured personnel, and zero casualties.

“Get rid of the guns, we’ve been allocated a portion of the budget for Tasers. The clones are expensive, don’t damage them!”

Time Stamp Sixteen Thirty Hours. Non-fatal toxin-releasing braces are a success. Implementing security device on all subjects.

“According to the psychologists’ report the bracelets appear to be having a negative effect on the subjects’ overall morale.”

Time Stamp Thirteen Eighteen. Multiple riots in the last three days. Damages still to be calculated.

“It’s chaos out there sir. We had to activate nearly two dozen bracelets to stop them from killing each other. They just get violent when we throw them together for too long.”

Time Stamp Thirteen Forty-Two. Subject MA#071091 missing from head count. Last accounted for before the riots started.

“If they like fighting so much, give them an enemy to focus on.”

Time Stamp Twenty Hundred Hours. Subject MA#071091 retrieved with poison damage by subjects SM#110386, KY#150791, and OY#171088. Cannibal Initiative is a success.

“I want a tracker put on this one and someone get the psychologists in here now! It’s the tenth riot this week!”

Time Stamp Eleven Twenty-One. Teamwork Initiative implemented. All subjects divided into multiple teams to encourage cooperation and reduce rioting. Observations pending.

“Sir it’s that Maeda clone—

“—if you tell me it’s escaped again, so help me…”

“…uh…It’s escaped again.”

Time Stamp Zero One Hundred Hours. Subject MA#71091 terminated.

________________________________________________________________

Subject MJ#080397 Alias: Nobunaga | Parent DNA: Matsui Jurina [Center] |

Verdict: Great Success* | Sentience: Self-Aware | Status: Locked-down, constant visual monitoring required, termination pending|

Subject MJ#080397 was originally the most successful cloning experiment completed to date. The fighting prowess had been greatly improved compared to the original, and attitude adjustments were able to successfully stamp out all of the unwanted aspects of the original’s personality, such as arrogance and impatience. However, as time went by and re-evaluations have been completed, it’s revealed that the subject retains the original’s stubbornness and noble streak, and will not be cowed into compliance. The subject is supremely dangerous and must be kept separate from the general population to prevent it from organising the rest of the clones into a resistance.

The Mind-Wipe protocol has been deemed a failure, as the subject continues to be non-compliant even when confused and disorientated from the lack of memories, which exponentially quickens in its recall after each mind-wipe.  

*Note: Great Success was the initial verdict after the subject proved to be superior to original in combat, however the status was revoked after the subject’s repeated disobedience and failure to comply with orders.

_______________________________________________________

Subject KY#110296 Alias: Peace | Parent DNA: Kizaki Yuria [Magic]|

Verdict: Success | Sentience: Almost-Aware| Status: Closely monitored, bi-weekly check-in|

Subject KY#110296, self-named Peace, is one of the more successful clones created in the project. The original’s fighting prowess has been replicated successfully, reports do indicate that it may even be slightly improved, barring the preference for trickery, which seems to have been a trait nurtured by the original’s environment and upbringing. After several failures, it was discovered that the clone responds positively to parental encouragement. After negotiating with the contractor, several memories were implanted into Peace to create the illusion that she is the daughter of the prison warden. The results were an extreme success with exponential improvement in emotional, mental and physical states. 

Notes: Due to the subject’s psychological requirements, it needs to be kept partially aware under false pretenses of being the prison warden’s daughter. If the truth, or simply the falsehood of being the prison warden’s daughter is revealed, it may have detrimental affects on the clone’s effectiveness.

 ____________________________________________________________

Subject IA#031295 Alias: Annin | Parent DNA: Iriyama Anna [Yoga]|

Verdict: Great Success | Sentience: Semi-Aware | Status: Closely monitored, fortnightly check-in|

Subject IA#031295 has been deemed an extreme success. Its fighting prowess has been recorded as a vast improvement upon the originals. However, the special ability that the original possesses has not been able to be successfully replicated in any clone. Researchers speculate that Yoga’s so-called distraction ability was nothing more than exaggerated tales.

The subject is generally compliant and well behaved, however it has been noted to be asking certain questions in recent weeks. Close monitoring must be kept upon the subject to ensure that it does not become aware.

Notes: The subject has developed a sadistic streak, monitor to ensure that it does not become a liability.

 ________________________________________________________

Subject SH#300394 Alias: Paru | Parents DNA: Shimazaki Haruka [Salt] & Maeda Atsuko [Maeda]|

Verdict: Moderate Success |Sentience: Completely Unaware* |Status: Constant monitor, visual confirmation at all times |

With the failure of Subject MA#71091 attributed to mostly too much willpower inherited from the original (Maeda), researches have decided to create a clone using the spliced DNA of Maeda and a more apathetic parent. This resulted in the creation of Subject SHMA#300394.

Subject SHMA#300394 must be kept under the Mind-Wipe protocol at all times. While replicating Salt’s fighting prowess is still a work in progress, the subject has been deemed a considerable success, and is the most powerful clone created to date. The subject is however, not deemed a complete success, as it is wilful, and has developed all of Maeda’s passion, and none of Salt’s apathy, and thus far had been kept sedated, or mind-wiped in order to be kept pliant.  

*Note: Ensure that subject remains UNAWARE. Subject is impossible to control when approaching any status beyond ‘unaware’.

 _________________________________________________________)

Subject KR#120295 Alias: Nanashi | Parent DNA: Kawaei Rina [Bakamono] |

Verdict: Failure | Sentience: Unaware | Status: Monitored remotely, annual check-in |

Subject KR#120295 or ‘Nanashi’ is a complete failure in every way, barring physical health. Replication of the original’s fighting prowess and super strength ability could not be achieved. It’s been deduced that the parent’s fighting capability was likely due to environmental factors, such as trauma in her life that is thus far mostly unknown.  Trial and error of introducing trauma to the subject early in its life cycle resulted in a clone that is too anxious and frail to be of any use in combat.  

[mnetruinedmylife]

New chapter, enjoy more YuuNaa goodness :D

[mnetruinedmylife]

What’s in a Name?

Summary: Fighting their way out of Prison Hope has been hell, and all Paru wants is to sleep. So she settles down between the only two girls who manages to escape with her, Nanashi and Peace. Only when she wakes up, she’s not in the woods anymore, and for some reason, people keep trying to put her in a dark blue sailor fuku and pointing her to some delinquent school called ‘Majisuka Jyogakuen’.

OR

Paru falls asleep after her narrow prison escape – and wakes up in an alternate dimension as a Yankee high schooler named ‘Salt’, and that changes everything.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------)

Yoga isn’t Annin.

Logically Paru knows this, but it’s so easy to forget.

In the same way that Paru forgets that Bakamono is actually Nanashi’s counterpart in this weird world. While Bakamono only has the tiniest amount of superficial similarity to Nanashi, Yoga is practically Annin’s carbon copy.

Paru can’t say she knew the Mongoose leader all that well, but she got to know her fighting tics rather intimately, and Yoga has them written all over her body language. It’s in the little things, like the way she tightens and cocks back her fist, to the almost effortless way she walks through the hallways of brawling delinquents, holding herself with a quiet dignity that screams power. That being said, Yoga is just a high school brat. Annin was a survivor, a leader, a force to be reckoned with, and while Yoga is a good fighter, at the end of the day she’s a child who knows nothing.

That fact is nailed into Paru’s head one Tuesday afternoon. She’s taking the scenic route to school when she hears the tell-tale sounds of fists upon flesh. Someone’s fighting up ahead, that isn’t exactly a rare occurrence in this part of town, so she pays it no mind. Until a body is literally thrown into her path, and then Paru minds. It’s a schoolgirl (big surprise there), in some sort of white uniform, Paru hasn’t exactly spent the time or effort into memorising all the local yankee schools in the area. Perhaps she should��it would be no different than learning all the prison gangs, though perhaps slightly less useful as apparently all the schools in the area fear Majijo – the school that Paru finds herself residing in. Tangent aside – body thrown at her feet, schoolgirl in white uniform, said schoolgirl is out cold. Round the corner curiously, Paru spots a familiar figure surrounded by other girls in white.

Annin – no, Yoga has apparently decided to get herself into a brawl. Even if she didn’t start it, she clearly has no intentions of cooling it down or discreetly getting out of there like Annin would. But then again, Annin is smart enough to know that there are just some odds not worth the trouble. Sure, she should be able to fight off these thugs without too much effort, but when you’re so outnumbered, mistakes happen. It only takes one, one misstep when you’re surrounded, and it’s over. This is no Shounen Manga where the underdog hero is invincible no matter how many mooks he faces.

Yoga isn’t as smart.

She taunts the girls in white. Apparently they were from her old school? So a personal history is involved here, and probably pride of some kind – Paru nearly rolls her eyes. Pride, the root of so much idiocy.

The fact is proven once again when the girls start charging at Yoga

 ------0

Bakamono is more like Nanashi than Paru once thought. Despite Bakamono’s more violent nature here, miraculously enough, her earnestness remains. It appears no matter how different the upbringing, or how brash and ridiculously dumb this version of her is, an innocent childlike aura hovers over her like a cartoon halo. Paru often wonders if there are any other unexpected similarities between the meek, yet intensely loyal errand girl of Team Habu and the more vicious, but Paru suspects, just as loyal Bakamono of Majijo’s Rappapa.

[mnetruinedmylife]

Majisuka Gakuen 4 Redux

Chapter 1

It’s a sunny spring morning that sees the start of the school term.

Perhaps in a more civilized part of town, there may be students in their freshly pressed uniforms and book bags disembarking from buses and hurrying along the streets to their schools. That would not be a common sight in this particular area.

Instead, the beginning of school year in southern Tokyo sees young adolescents leisurely wandering the streets in packs, while donning a mockery of the uniform regulations: ripped up sleeves, ankle length skirts, pipes or baseball bats slung over one shoulder, bright dye in their hair, and smoke and violence trailing in their wake.

Majisuka Jyogakuen has always boasted some of the more infamous delinquents, and the grounds reflect as such. With students loitering about in the courtyard, if they deem it fit to show up at all. The old brick walls are scribbled all over in all manner of paints and pens, depicting obscenities, names and threats, and even random declarations of power. The corridors are somehow even more chaotic, with students clamouring over each other in the tight spaces, a stray swing of a fist here, bits of broken glass littering the floor, a vicious kick there, all in the hopes of furthering their positions on the school’s hierarchy for the upcoming year.

Upon the second floor corridor, the smell of cooking food wafts throughout the halls. This year it appears to be a familiar scent of cooking meat, only now it’s not so much smoky grilled, but steamed and complemented with a rich broth smelling of tantalising spices. The second year students have vacated the hall, lest they become a little too tempted to burst through the third classroom from the stairs and do something stupid.

Inside said classroom, sits a dozen students who have become rather desensitized to the mouth-watering aroma of the hotpot-of-the-day in past year, and five girls in red jerseys crowd around a boiling pot, simmering to the brim with mushrooms and vegetables.

For Team Hinabe, this is more than just the start to a new year, it’s the year they stake their claim on the school. First years are hardly ever taken seriously, and so second year is the crucial moment that decides their trajectory for the rest of their high school careers. The team’s founder and captain Uonome, is deep in thought as she stares at the bubbling broth.

There are so many different ways they can do this, but honestly, she can’t see most of them ending in success. Majisuka Jyogakuen, like most delinquent yankee schools in the area, is organised based on strength. The hierarchy is almost entirely a show of physical and martial power – unfortunately, as she looks at each of her contemporaries around the stove –

“You put something disgusting in it again,” Dodobusu complains, giving the piece of tripe lying limply on the ladle a nauseated glare as though it had somehow personally offended her.

Kusogaki probably is personally offended because she’s quick to chime in with a rather juvenile, “The only disgusting thing here is your face!”

“What? Say that again after looking into a mirror!” Dodobusu’s reply isn’t exactly much more mature.

Predictably Kusogaki is quick to grab onto the collar of her teammate’s jersey menacingly, but before any threats (or acts) of violence can get uttered, Jisedai interrupts with an exaggerated eye roll, “Oh shut up. Can’t I eat in peace?”

The final member of her team, Kenpou chimes in with, “Article 14: the general populace are equal by law, that is to say they are not to be discriminated by race, religion, gender or by their face.”

Uonome curses the nitwit who planted the idea of going to law school in Kenpou’s head. Her teammate has been speaking entirely in verses of Japanese law for months. If she isn’t so annoyed, she might’ve actually been impressed at how Kenpou managed to still participate in most conversations with such…restrictions.

“It’s too early for you to be talking Kenpou!” Kusogaki moans, rubbing her forehead as though thinking is actually causing her pain and the entire group descends into more and more juvenile squabbling.

Just as they’re reaching ‘I know you are, but what am I?�� levels, Uonome succeeds in becoming temporarily deaf. Why yes, Uonome thinks sardonically, there’s a lot of fearsome power to be seen here. Luckily though, an invaluable source of information drops onto their lap this year in the form of an old friend and mentor.

Wota, now known as Scandal, former leader of Team Hormone and a member of Maeda’s (technically Otabe’s) Rappapa, has returned from her exile to Fukuoka.

Scooping a generous serving of the broth into a bowl, Uonome offers it to her returning senpai, “Neechan, the hinabe is ready.”

“Thanks,” the green jersey clad girl takes the bowl while wondering when the food thing became so extravagant.

It had started with Scandal – or Wota as she went by back then, eating her lunch in class because she was hungry. When the teacher said nothing, she started doing it just because she could. Then Bungee started bringing her food, and then Unagi lugged a grill she found on the side of the road in one day, and then they’d started grilling hormone in class because who the hell was going to stop them? It appears the tradition has gotten more ridiculous over the years because Team Hinabe actually has an entire cooler set aside for themselves, filled with raw ingredients and condiments.

“Where are you guys getting the money to have hotpot every day?” Scandal is still a little incredulous at the whole thing. She remembers squabbling with her teammates over who had to pay for the hormone every week, and they were the cheapest cuts of meat you could get.

“Fighting, duh,” Kusogaki says in a matter-of-fact tone, and Scandal is reminded that this particular food-themed-team formed a little differently than most in Majijo did.

“That and Kenpou is rich,” Jisedai adds wryly.

“Sh! Article 13: every individual has the liberty of protecting his or her own personal information from being disclosed to a third party or made public without good reason!” Kenpou hisses, eyes flickering around the room warily.

“Oh relax, like anyone’s going to steal from us,” Dodobusu waves off her worries dismissively.

“It’s been a long time right Neechan?” Uonome steers the conversation away from that because the last thing she needs is for Kusogaki to start making loud declarations of how no one has the guts to challenge them, and well of course, those kinds of boasts result in just that, “How long were you suspended for?” she wonders aloud.

Scandal resists the urge to knock the kid on the head, she knew exactly how long Scandal has been gone for, “Two years brat. They sent me to Fukuoka you know? Just when I had the chance to be Vice-Captain too.”

“Oh yeah, it was the thing right?” Kusogaki asks, and the little rascal has the audacity to make the sign for ‘lover’ at her.

Scandal shoots her a poisonous glare and wonders when these punks got so bold. Probably in the two years she was gone. God did she hate Nezumi sometimes. That sneaky rat set her up. Scandal takes a bite of a mushroom and decides to change the subject before she slams a head into the boiling pot, Otabe probably won’t appreciate that – also she really needs to graduate soon and causing grievous bodily harm to her juniors is counterproductive to that, “Anyway, what’s been going on lately? How’s my team doing?”  

“...how are we supposed to know? The last of Team Hormone graduated when I was a first year, like my actual first year,” Uonome says incredulously. Surely being sent to Fukuoka couldn’t have damaged Scandal’s memory that much?

“Not Team Hormone, I still talk to them. I meant you lot you genius,” Scandal points out, grinning through her teeth, knowing full well that it would rile them up.

“We’re not your team! They’re my team!” Uonome as always, is completely indignant over any insinuation that the formation of Team Hinabe isn’t a hundred percent due to her.

“Uh-huh, sure. Who convinced you make a team again?” Scandal takes great delight in needling the younger girl. It’s hilarious when she goes a little purple, but to Scandal’s surprise, Uonome remains relatively calm. That’s a good sign, guess the kid is making progress after all.

“Whatever. We’re doing good. We practically run this school you know, we keep the other schools in line,” Uonome is also a boastful braggart, but that part isn’t new.

“Really now?” Scandal says indulgently, before looking around in mock confusion, “This doesn’t look like the Rappapa club room to me. I thought you had to be Rappapa to be on top? Or has that changed in the last two years?”

Uonome scowls, and it’s Jisedai who answers her, “Nah, Rappapa’s still technically in charge.”

Scandal feels an eyebrow rise, “Technically?” now this has got to be interesting.

“They’re still the strongest around, but their presence has faded quite a bit,” Dodobusu explains in a way that isn’t really an explanation, like she’s hedging her answers because she’s afraid Scandal won’t like it.

“Elaborate,” Scandal demands flatly. Because last she checked, Otabe is still stomping around school (something about avoiding her father, Scandal hasn’t exactly been able to pry much out of her), and so the Rappapa can’t have gotten that weak over the last two years.

“Well, they’re still monstrously strong as ever. On a technical scale, you could probably say they’re actually one of the strongest Rappapa teams in the history of Rappapa. But well...compared to Yuko’s time...” Uonome sighs, and rubs her temples, as if this is a problem that has been plaguing her for years. It probably has been, “They just don’t care.”

Scandal frowns and makes waving motions in the air with her chopsticks, “Keep elaborating.”

“Like, Shibuya used to push people around for fun. Black was quiet but terrifying when she got serious. Gekikara was a nightmare no more explanation needed there. No one messes with Sado, I mean, her nickname was Sado. When Torigoya got going, you got the fuck away. And Yuko was the psycho who smiled when she jumped into twelve vs one fights. This Rappapa prefers to just keep to themselves, if you pick a fight with one of them directly, they’ll make you sorry for it – well Yoga makes you sorry for it – but if you just beat up a random Majijo gang, they don’t care. We’re getting kinda scared that the other schools might get it into their heads that they can start attacking Majijo without any consequences.”

Scandal blinks, taking that in, “Well...can’t say I’m that surprised. Disappointed, but not really surprised. Otabe was always passive. She only ever got off her ass when Yabakune declared all-out war. I’m just surprised she has a Rappapa who aren’t itching for a fight. Lord knows we were seconds away from mutiny-ing in my third year.”

Dodobusu starts counting down using the fingers on her left hand, “Bakamono is really the only one who fights for fun but Otabe has her on a pretty tight leash. Magic is unmotivated unless it amuses her, Yoga only gets barely motivated if you get in her way or try to challenge the Rappapa, and Salt is apathy made human.”

“Exactly, I’d rather run into one of Salt’s Rappapa in a dark alley than Yuko’s any day,” Jisedai says, “Technically better fighters or not, there’s no fear factor, Salt’s more likely to yawn at me than beat me up.”

“Hold up,” Scandal places a hand out in front of her, brain struggling to come to terms with what she just heard, “Did you just say Salt’s Rappapa? That salty bitch is the president of Rappapa!?”

“Oh yeah, Salt became president last year,” Uonome states casually, like the information didn’t just fry Scandal’s brain.

“How? Why? What? Who the hell thought...I thought she didn’t give a shit about the presidency? She barely agreed to be a Queen.”

Dodobusu snorts, “She still doesn’t give a shit. See, after you left, there was a huge fight for the open Rappapa positions. Then Nezumi’s father forcibly transferred her to a private school, something about a politician having a daughter in a yankee school not looking good for him. And without her, Centre dropped out and joined the army. So that was most of the Rappapa gone, and there was a huge power vacuum.”

“And what? Salt decided that then was the perfect time to knock Otabe off her throne? Actually, what did happen to Otabe?” Scandal presses, perhaps she should’ve kept in closer contact with her friends back in Majijo, because this is just a little too interesting to have missed.

“Article 230 subsection 1 of the Penal Code: A person who defames another by alleging facts in public shall, regardless of whether such facts are true or false, be punished,” Kenpou says solemnly, earning a blank look from Scandal.

“…translation?”

“It means we don’t know, and this is one of those rare topics that they actually care about. So if we keep talking about it, someone might snitch and Yoga will beat us black and blue,” Uonome explains in a strangely cheerful tone.

“Huh...I have a feeling I need a nice long chat with Otabe sometime soon,” Scandal muses, she’s missed out on so much, “So where does this put you lot this year? Planning on challenging the Rappapa?”

Jisedai snorts, “As if. Salt is a monster, and Bakamono nearly killed Kusogaki that one time – ”

“—hey I nearly beat her!” Kusogaki exclaims indignantly, only to wilt with a half-hearted, “I was only kicked back by like thirteen metres.”

“Article 37 Subsection 1: An act unavoidably performed to avert a present danger to the life, body, liberty or property of oneself or any other person is not punishable,” Kenpou growls threateningly at Kusogaki, who merely stares back at her blankly.

“In other words, we will beat you up and tie you down ourselves if you pick a fight with Bakamono again. In one kick she broke your wrist, cracked three of your ribs, fractured your shoulder blade and gave you a concussion,” Jisedai deadpans as Kusogaki sulks into her bowl of hinabe.

“The concrete wall did most of that.”

“Anyway, they’re all third years, so they’ll be gone by next year – well maybe not Otabe, if the past few years are anything to go by. But they’ll mostly be gone, and we’ll take on the Rappapa title. Not like it’ll change much, we’ve been pretty much doing their jobs for them anyway,” Uonome says.

“I don’t know whether to commend you on your dedication to Majijo, or be disappointed in your lack of confidence,” Scandal says wryly.

“Well, Majijo first right? That’s what you taught us neechan.”

“Damn right I did. Well, Salt is the president huh?” Scandal chuckles, which then transforms into full blown laughter, clearly finding something that only she knows funny.

The members of Team Hinabe exchange a look of concern, “...Should that be that funny?” Dodobusu asks uncertainly.

“Nah, this is just gonna be an interesting year is all,” Scandal says, though the full teeth grin does nothing to dispel the rest of them of suspicions.

“You know something,” Uonome accuses.

“I might,” Scandal shrugs non-committaly.

“And you aren’t going to tell your poor ‘team’ about it? After all, you helped found us,” Dodobusu says innocently.

“Laying it on a bit thick aren’t you? Just ten minutes ago, you were denying that. Very loudly too.”

Whatever Scandal is going to say is interrupted by a very loud crash as someone goes careening into a desk. The girl who steps through the door – and clearly the one who kicked the other poor girl over (something Haruka?) – is not one who looks familiar.

The new girl walks over to an empty desk and sits down.

“Here’s a hint for you kids,” Scandal says, shit-eating grin still ever present on her face, “Stay away from the transfer student. Sakura’s been in a volatile mood lately.”

Uonome blinks, “You know her?”

“Went to my school in Fukuoka. She’s dangerous.”

“Ch,” Dodobusu glances over the girl with her hair cropped to her shoulders, “Bendy Legs over there doesn’t look too tough to me.”

“Don’t say senpai didn’t warn you.”

“Article 38 subsection 3: Lacking knowledge of law shall not be deemed lacking the intention.”

“I don’t know what that means kid.”

__________)

Meanwhile, two floors above Team Hinabe’s classroom, sits a particularly spacious attic that the Rappapa have commandeered for their clubroom. It’s a somewhat dark space, with the one lightbulb perpetually turned off, and the only light source being the rays of sun streaming through the windows.

Magic has set herself up under the area with the most sunlight, citing that all good magicians perform in full view and don’t rely on something as cheap as darkness to hide their tricks. She shuffles her deck of playing cards and spreads them out over the table as Bakamono watches in rapt attention.

“This is your card,” Magic states with a clear certainty while flipping over a queen of diamonds.

“Yup!” Bakamono nods excitedly, clapping her hands together with enthusiasm, “That was awesome!”

“How many times are you going to amuse her with the same trick?” comes Yoga’s bemused voice from the table she’s meditating on.

Magic’s eyes flicker over to where Yoga is sitting in her default pose, “Is somebody jealous that I’m not paying attention to her?”

“Don’t be childish. I’m just sick of seeing you do ‘pick a card’ for the last three days,” Yoga sighs dramatically, trying to get rid of the memories

“Alright then,” Magic acquiesces with a too-smug-to-be-innocent grin, before pulling out a cup, which immediately catches the attention of Otabe.

“Oh no, not this one,” the elder girl drops the hacky-sacks she’d been playing with and sits up from her armchair with a groan that predicts an incoming headache, “Don’t you dare –”

“ – Tada!” Magic ploughs on, ignoring Otabe as she seemingly drops a coin through the solid upturned glass cup and onto the table.

“Whoa! That was like magic! How’d you do that?” Bakamono exclaims, picking up the glass for inspection.

“Bakamono it’s solid,” Otabe says in the tone of a person who has long passed exasperation and is now stating things out of obligation, “Don’t –”

“—can it pass through the table too?” Bakamono throws the cup onto the table, wincing as it smashes into pieces, “Oops,” she mutters sheepishly while Otabe lets out a long sigh.

“If I step on a shard of glass, I’m going to choke you out Magic,” Yoga warns without opening her eyes.

“Kinky,” Magic smirks, but her attention is on the door on the far side of the room, the one plastered in ‘solt’ stickers.

They’d made quite a commotion.

Sure enough, it slams open with a bang. A rather bleary eyed and irate girl stumbles out.

“Salt-san!” Bakamono (who is clearly unable to read the atmosphere) bounds forward with an exuberant greeting, “Good morn – ow!” only to be rudely interrupted by a fist to the face.

Salt’s voice is hoarse, likely due to sleep and disuse, “Shut. Up.”

Wow just two words Magic notes, and mentally adds a reminder to stay away from Salt for the next few hours. At least until their president manages to get enough sleep to resemble a functional human being.

“Was that really necessary?” Otabe asks mildly, pulling Bakamono up from the ground. Not that she actually needs the help (Salt is usually more bark than bite), but Bakamono looks like a kicked puppy and sometimes if left alone, she would just sulk on the floor like a child.

“Don’t you start. I don’t need a lecture this morning Ota—” Salt stops mid-sentence and looks down, “There is glass on the floor.”

“Magic will be cleaning that up,” Otabe says like it’s a fact, and Magic will very much like to contest that.

“What? Bakamono broke it,” she points out, and rather reasonably too, if she does say so herself.

The meditating one with her eyes closed this entire time apparently believes otherwise, “You knew exactly what would happen when did that trick. So you clean it up.”

“Shut up Yoga. Mind your own damn business,” Magic snaps back.

“Magic – ” Otabe starts.

“—No,” Magic interjects before the elder girl can start lecturing, and wonders if disappearing for the rest of the day will make Otabe forget, the elder girl is wonderfully absentminded about unimportant stuff like that.

“Magic. Clean. End of discussion,” Salt states.

And that is that. Magic isn’t in a belligerent enough mood to argue with Salt this morning, so she changes the subject, “So…I hear there’s a second year transfer student starting today.”

Otabe grins, “Is that right? Second year transfers are always interesting. She might even liven the place up, right Salt?”

“Whatever,” Salt disappears back into her private room, most likely to take another nap on her red sofa.

“Well she’s fun today,” Otabe comments dryly when the door clicks shut, before taking the conversation back to the previous topic, “The last second year transfer student was you, right Yoga? Isn’t this nostalgic?”

“From what I hear, you were a transfer too,” Yoga points out. Her transfer from Sutegoro had been…rocky to say that least. But this isn’t that story.

“Third year,” Otabe clarifies, sounding almost a little disappointed, “All the interesting ones are second years.”

Bakamono chooses this moment to chime in with a cheeky, “Oh that’s right, you came in your third year. Oi Otabe,” she pokes her fingers at the dark blue collar of Otabe’s seifuku, “Just how long have you been at this school for?”

“Idiot,” Magic mutters as Otabe slams Bakamono into a wall. Trust the moron to push Otabe’s one berserk button after triggering Salt’s.

“It’s all about the timing you understand? If you don’t understand, I’ll rearrange your brain and perhaps then you’ll understand.”

“Sorry sorry sorry!”

Yoga cracks open an eye and smiles at the scene, from Bakamono falling over apologising, to Otabe glowering over her, and Magic shuffling a deck of cards while pretending that she’s not watching the proceedings highly amused, to even Salt who is most likely listening to them, because they’re all being loud and she hasn’t come out to kill them again.

All in all, it’s shaping up to be a usual, boring school year.

_______________)

[mnetruinedmylife]

Division M45

Prologue: Division M45 vs Division Aurelia

Jieqiong wished that someone in recruitment had told her how mind-numbingly boring a stakeout could be.

Sure, there was always an underlying sense of danger when stalking people with fantastical abilities such as squashing metal like a pancake with their bare hands, but watching a building filled with ordinary criminals or with powered criminals was really no different.

“Log 212, 0800 hours, a mailman dropped a letter into the mailbox of apartment 11a,” drawled Yebin’s monotone voice, looking about as interested as Jieqiong felt.

She just wished something exciting happened. She’d even take a masked vigilante swooping in to wreak havoc with their stakeout over another hour of –

CRASH!

The sound of a window shattering shook Jieqiong out of her reverie, and she straightened up in her cruiser seat, hands already dialling the radio for headquarters.

“This is M45PV, an unknown has entered the situation via forceful entry through the second storey window. How do we proceed? Over.”

The reply was almost immediate, “Unit V stay put. Do not engage. Wait for further instructions,” Agent Nayoung’s voice commanded through the crackling radio, “I repeat, do not engage. Over and out.”

Yebin narrowed her eyes at the building, clearly recognising something from the flashes of shadows dancing in and out sight of the window frame, because she muttered a string of colourful curses under her breath as she grabbed a pair of power-dampening handcuffs from the glovebox.

“What are you doing?” Jieqiong asked in alarm as Yebin retrieved a rifle from the backseat.

“Did you not see how they got through that window? There’s only one person who can fly in this city, it’s fucking Sejeong,” Yebin hissed, opening the car door.

Jieqiong whipped her head towards the window so fast, she’s surprised she didn’t give herself whiplash, “What? What the hell are the Aurelia Division doing at our stakeout!?”

“That’s what I’m going to find out.”

“Wait, Yebin! Captain Nayoung said to stay put!”

“Yeah, because she’s probably being strong-armed by the higher-ups. This is the third time, I’m not letting those upstarts steal another case from under our noses,” and without another word, Yebin stalked towards the building, rifle ready in her hands.

“Nayoung-unnie is going to kill us,” Jieqiong lamented, though she doesn’t hesitate to follow Yebin to the building.

She is so getting court-martialled for this.

____)

“—stupid stupid stupid, and idiotic, and beyond stupid!” Nayoung slammed her hands against the wooden table, shooting her two insubordinate agents with a poisonous glare, “You could’ve ruined the entire plan, or worse, gotten Agents Soyee and Sejeong killed, and then what am I supposed to tell Hana? What in the world were you two thinking!?”

Yebin opened her mouth, most likely to offer some semblance of an explanation, but Nayoung steamrolled right over her.

“You know what? I don’t even care. You’re both suspended for disobeying direct orders.”

[mnetruinedmylife]

NGT48's Maho Yamaguchi assaulted by two men:

 Translation of all Tweets from Maho and transcripts of live broadcast. PLEASE SPREAD for international coverage.

Maho Yamaguchi apologizing at the third anniversary event of NGT48, Jan. 10. 2019

Scroll down for updates! (Last updated Jan 11th, 2:40am JST)

NGT48 just finished their third anniversary event a few hours ago. Maho was forced to perform on stage as if nothing ever happened, then apologized for “causing trouble and confusing for everyone”… Please look at how worn out she is and the bags under her eyes. She has lost 4 kilograms in two weeks due to stress.

Please help this story get international coverage. Don’t let AKS and the NGT management get away with this… They are a powerful company with major influence and they are trying to cover everything up in Japan with lightening speed while releasing no statements whatsoever. I tried to send this to CNN, but I’m not sure if I was able to submit it correctly.

Below is a detailed outline of how the entire story unfolded, and a direct translation of everything that Maho has put out on her social media accounts (although some have already been deleted on her account). I translated everything myself over the last few hours, I’m sorry if there are mistakes but I am pretty sure everything has been translated accurately.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Outline

Maho Yamaguchi is a 23-year-old woman in Japan who is working as an idol. She was assaulted at the doorstep of her own dorm room by two men who claimed to be fans, but this news did not come to light until Maho took it upon herself to share her story in protest on Twitter and on a live broadcast application called SHOWROOM, in which she confessed that her assault was planned by some of her own teammates, and that her agency who once promised to take action on this matter has now betrayed her, as after a month of waiting they have decided to conclude the matter by telling her that she is being paranoid.

Maho is part of the group NGT48 which is a sister group of AKB48, the biggest idol group in the world and one of the top-selling groups in Japan. I know CNN has picked up AKB48 in the past for their music videos in which they were accused of exploiting young women by making them dance and pose in their underwear.

First, she started a live broadcast on her SHOWROOM account on the night of January 8th. The broadcast was forcefully interrupted before it reached 4 minutes. Here is a translation of the transcript of the broadcast.:

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Written Transcript in Japanese (Twitter)

Video clips from the actual broadcast in 2 parts:

Part 1 (Twitter)

Part 2 (Twitter)

“I’ve been trying to send Mobame (mobile mail service to the fans) … but it’s not going through since my account has been stopped.

I wish I could confess the truth and everything that happened, because nothing will get solved if I don’t tell the truth, and people may go through the same thing that I went through, but I’ve waited for an entire month, and they haven’t done anything to solve the problem…

Even though Mr. Imamura (the manager of the group) told me that he would "Make NGT a clean group”… that “NGT will become a completely new group”… that he would “fire those who are behind all the bad things happening”… he hasn’t done any of these things…

Since all of the members’ personal information has been leaked, I can’t stand the possibility of myself or my team members who have been so honest and hardworking go through the same horrifying experience that I went through..

Fortunately I was lucky enough to get out of it alive, but if I had been killed, what would they have done? Then there would be no going back… everything would be too late…

I don’t understand why things that are not allowed in other groups are allowed in NGT… I don’t feel alive anymore…

Even in the recent Aikabu elections (elections in which idols receive votes from fans and compete for a higher stock value…), I was having so much fun trying our best with everyone in Team G, ever since I got assigned to Team G it’s been so fun everyday, I’ve been so full of energy, laughing with everyone, I was so happy just to be with everyone… But now… I don’t understand why things are turning out to be this way…

Is it bad to be hardworking and serious? Is it righteous to be dating? (Referring to the group’s no-dating policy)

I don’t understand such nonsense. I don’t get it anymore.

I don’t understand why the one who has been taking the job seriously all along has to go through such a thing. Is it because I have been too serious? Why do I have to go through such a fearful experience?

I really wanted to say it out loud, but because they said they would take care of the matter, I waited this whole month even through I was scared. But in the end they didn’t do anything. The wrongdoers are still at large.

…I just don’t understand.

What would they do if something happened to someone and there was no turning back? I really want to tell the truth but it would cause trouble to the people who are taking care of me… but I can’t anymore…“

Then she posted the following account of the incident on Twitter. Some of Maho’s posts have since been deleted, but here is a direct translation of what she posted on Twitter on January 9th in order.

"I wish everything was a lie but it isn’t. I called a member I could trust for help when I was assaulted. She stayed with me and listened to the assaulter’s testimony until the police came, and the staff were there as well. She couldn’t help but cry hearing the names of the members coming out of the assaulter’s mouth. I can’t stand this current situation where those who are taking their jobs so seriously are not able to work without worrying in a safe environment.”

“The police has already been informed. It is true that some of the members from my group were involved in this case. The assaulters were arrested for assault and battery, but they have already been released.”

“You can choose not to believe me if you want. The reason why this is not out in the press is because I asked for the fact that I am an idol, a member of NGT to be hidden. The fans are full of kind people, and I didn’t want the public to think badly of them just because of a few bad people, and despite the fact that I am a victim, I didn’t think that this would not end up giving the group a negative image. So I asked my for identity to be announced as a 23 year old freelancer.“

“I’m so sorry. Everyone. It was not in my intention to destroy everyone’s dreams. But if I don’t speak up, nothing is going to change. I don’t want the other members to go through what I’ve gone through. Because these things must be prevented before they happen. I’m so sorry. I had no choice but to say it. I’m sorry. I wish I could go back to a month ago where I was just a normal idol.”

“I wish I didn’t have to say such a thing. I don’t want to cause trouble To the people who are looking after me. I don’t want you all to hate NGT so I stayed silent for the past month even though it was so hard for me. I even told the press not to release the information that I was a member of NGT. All because this group was so important to me. And because I believed that everything will be taken care of, and that those responsible would be punished accordingly.”

“But now a month has passed after entrusting this case with the agency, trying to protect the group. It was decided that nothing would be done. Mr. Imamura (manager) heard everything there is to hear about the members from the police and promised to punish them, and yet, here he is now, trying to pretend nothing ever happened by telling me that I am being paranoid. An incident like this happened and I stayed silent for the group just to be betrayed.”

“I don’t want you to hate NGT. There a lot of girls who take their jobs very seriously and are working hard. But I can’t stand to see them go through the same thing that I went through. I don’t want those who are important to me to feel the same agony that I am feeling. Even though I would be just fine to be the only one crying, I can’t stand seeing everyone else cry out of fear and anger. So I am going to tell the truth.“

"I was assaulted at the end of last month by two men. One member from my group informed the assaulter the time that I would be coming home after the showcase, another had given the assaulter the location of my house and my room, and another member was guilty of instigating the assaulter to go to my house. Must those who choose not to connect with their fans privately have their personal information exposed to the public and be assaulted?”

“Is it my fault for not dating and falling in love, and for taking my job as an idol seriously? Is it my fault for not agreeing to connect privately with the fans? Why is it that abiding by the rules in this group results in someone going through such a horrifying experience, why is it that those who take the job seriously and work hard are not protected in this group, is it the person who is betraying so many fans by connecting with a selected few privately that is righteous? I don’t understand how this can be forgiven.”

“I never missed a hand shaking event, even when I was not feeling well. Because there are fans who look forward to the event. Because there are people I won’t be able to see the next time. Because I don’t take the fans coming to see me for granted. This was a policy that I chose to stick to, one that I promised to keep forever. But they made me break it… I’m scared that the bond that we’ve managed to build together is going to break as well…”

“Even though such an incident has taken place, they’ll make me ‘take a break’, then conceal everything as if nothing ever happened… Maybe Mr. Imamura (manager) doesn’t understand the fear of being assaulted because he’s a man, I can’t even go outside by myself anymore because I’m too scared. Even if I move house, my parents’ home address and phone number has already been leaked, where can I find a place to escape to…”

Then Maho tweeted the following account of the incident as a screenshot.:

“I always take great care to be very cautious, so every time I enter my house and my room, I always pay close attention to my surrounding to make sure I am safe. As usual on that day, I made sure that there was no sign of anyone in the hallway, entered my room and quickly tried to close my door. Then a hand appeared out of nowhere and tried to force the door open. The hand grabbed my face and tried to push me down. I fought frantically to force him out. Because I thought he would kill me if I lost, so I fought with all my might so that I wouldn’t die, and I was almost about to suceed in forcing him out. Then another man appeared from the room right across mine. It was the room that one of my members were living in. The second man took over the first man and proceeded to grab my face, and tried to push me down the same way. I tried to scream for help, but my voice wouldn’t come out because of fear. After a minute of trying I was finally able to scream ‘Help me help me!’ The man out his hands over my mouth. I thought they were going to lock me inside the house and kill me. Then the elevator rang, and as the man got distracted for a moment, I jumped out the door into the hallway because I thought if they proceeded to enter my house they would lock me inside and do something to me. But my feet wouldn’t move and I couldn’t escape. I tried to call the police but they took my cellphone.”

After this news got out to the public, the management kept their silence for an entire day. Today was the third anniversary of NGT48, and the members held an anniversary showcase to celebrate. Surprisingly, the show started like it usually does with no formal announcements touching on the subject whatsoever, almost as if nothing had ever happened.

Maho Yamaguchi, bowing her head in apology in front of an audience at the NGT48 3rd anniversary event, Jan 10, 2019.

One member even shouted during the show, “Thanks to your support, we were finally able to celebrate our third anniversary show with no problems! Please continue supporting us!“

At the beginning, two of the members were missing from the show; Maho and her closest friend in the group. Then suddenly at the 6th song, Maho appeared and sang a duet with the team leader. After performing the song, Maho and the team leader remained on stage. Maho slowly started talking, although visibly shaken and having lost a considerable amount of weight from stress. Here is a translated transcript of what she said.:

"I am very sorry for confusing everyone with what happened. (Bows) As I told you previously, I chose to present the matter in this way because there was something that I wanted to protect, but I feel terribly sorry that it ended up causing trouble for a lot of people that have been looking after me. I was able to talk to the people at AKS (the company managing the Japanese idol groups AKB48 and its sister groups), and as I hope that this becomes an opportunity for NGT48 to head towards a new direction, I will try my best to assists as the vice-captain of Team G. Please continue to support NGT48 (voice shaking).”

A lot of people are shocked at how the incident has turned out, as the management has not stated a word on this topic, but has instead chosen to make Maho who is the victim throughout this entire incident apologize for what she clearly has no reason to apologize for.

There are clear assumptions to the identity of the perpetuators, as Maho has unfollowed four members from her group and deleted previous celebratory posts about them after implying about the incident in early December.

Many fear for Maho’s mental health and are afraid that the management company will hide this incident and pretend that they are at no fault. Please help us make this story get international coverage so that we can get justice for Maho.

Thank you very much.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

UPDATES ( Jan 11th, 2:40am, JST)

The management has released a statement saying that a member was indeed involved in this case, as she “accidentally” told a fan what time Maho will be returning to her dorm… What kind of girl tells a stranger who approaches her on the way back home what time her teammate would be returning to her room, knowing the risks? Such a blatant lie.

Now what is strange, is that Maho said that she saw the second man come out of the room right across from hers. That means they were able to get into the building by somehow getting through the auto-lock system at the entrance. Sources are unclear at this point, but according to some fans who claim to be acquainted with the assaulters, the assaulters were actually the boyfriends of the alleged members who have had access to the building for a while. Maho and other members had been complaining to the management to stop letting them invite their boyfriends over, but for some reason, the management have been very easy on them and have not punished them. Maybe because a parent of one of the alleged members is the president of one of the sponsors of NGT. The assaulters got away without getting charged for battery in the end because they did NOT break any rules as they were let into the building by their girlfriends, and were just trying to “scare” Maho because they weren’t fond of her telling on them. The management did not want to let the public know that this was being allowed to happen, obviously. They asked Maho to stay quiet and in exchange, promised her that the alleged members would be punished. This did not happen, and Maho got angry, naturally.

__)

A Japanese fan started a Change.org petition to fire the current Theatre Manager, and for the staff to apologise to Maho. Please sign and share. We really can’t let a precedence to be set for this. For people to believe that they can just get away with assaulting a girl and blame her for it. 

[mnetruinedmylife]

Everyone thinks that Murayama Yuiri and Okada Nana are dating.  Their friends start comparing 'Yuunaa stories' on showroom of all places, but the two of them are adamantly denying it. Because well, it's not true. Mogi thinks 'I love you', and perhaps Mion thinks it back, but they don't say a word. They never do. 

[mnetruinedmylife]

Therapy Camp

Pristin Minkyung-centric

Well…

That was an absolute abysmally awful failure. In hindsight, there really wasn’t a lot of ways that could’ve gone anywhere other than south. What with her family being extremely conservative and supported far right-winged politics. Minkyung figures that there aren’t many worse families to have an argument about the legality of gay marriage with.

That being said, she really didn’t expect the hypothetical argument about underage drinking to spiral into a morality debate, and lead to her being sent to a bloody conversion therapy camp.

Just because she thought that it’s the right thing to give people equal rights, doesn’t mean that she’s gay.

She very much is not.

­­___________)

“So that’s where it all began then? Camp Pleiades?”

Minkyung eyes her smartly dressed walking cliché of a therapist. So far, he’d seemed like a decent guy, and Minkyung knows that Siyeon wouldn’t send her to some quack, but some part of her is still extremely jumpy just being in this office. Which in itself, is a cliché, white walls, nice desk, and a nice comfy lounge for the patient to sit in whilst spilling their deepest darkest secrets to the guy with a clipboard.

“Yeah, I was pretty issue-free before that,” Minkyung says in a matter-of-fact voice, “Well, repressed homosexuality aside, but that would’ve probably sorted itself out in university. The camp was…well, in some ways it was good for me – for the first time in my life, I met people who were like me.”

“People who are queer, you mean?”

Minkyung shrugs, “Yeah, pretty much.”

____)

Minkyung eyes the ugly grey sweater dubiously. Only partly paying attention to the uptight lady on the podium giving a welcome speech. She sort of zoned out after the ‘Welcome to Camp Pleiades, we are the guiding stars who will lead you through the righteous path. You are all here because you’ve sinned-’, it’s the same sort of bullshit religious rhetoric that she’s heard a million times before at the dinner table.

“- and we will group you in accordance to how severe your illness is, in order to better treat it,” was the only explanation that came about for the differently coloured and alphabetically labelled sweaters handed out to every camper.

Minkyung still doesn’t think that it’s a good explanation, “Does something about me scream ‘gay’? Why am I in F?” the grey colour is off-putting enough as is, but the giant black letter on the back is just insulting. Minkyung is a proud C average student, thank you very much.  

“It’s cuz you’re a new recruit,” one of her bunkmates – a short girl with long sleek brown hair – answers her silent question, “They put all the new ones in F until they figure out how ‘sick’ you are, and then they regroup you in about… three days usually.”

“You’re not new then?” the tall girl with the bobbed blonde hair asks from the top bunk on the opposite end of the cabin.

The girl sitting underneath the bobbed blonde’s bunk snorts, “Please, Yebin-unnie has been here nearly longer than me.”

“That’s significant somehow?” Minkyung asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Siyeon was practically born here,” the short girl – Yebin apparently – says, “I’ve made it my personal mission to drop a level every summer. Made it to F about two years ago, I think they’ve been contemplating making a whole ‘nother level just for me this year.”

“They were, but decided it was too expensive,” Siyeon confirms, before turning to Minkyung, “My aunt runs this place. I used to just come here because my parents needed somewhere to drop me off for the summer.”

“But then she got caught making out with Sungyeon in the counsellor’s office last summer,” Yebin laughs, “And ‘lo and behold. Welcome to the Den of Sin that is Level F Park Siyeon!”

Minkyung watches them bicker back and forth in bemusement. Somehow this isn’t what she expected when she got sent her. She doesn’t actually know what she expected, but people treating it as a joke is definitely not it.

“Story time then newbies, introductions and how did you end up in this hell hole?” Siyeon asks.

The blonde rubs the back of her head sheepishly, “Uh, my name is Kang Kyungwon, and um…my parents figured out that ‘doing assignments at a friend’s house’ is code for… you know, something else.”

Yebin guffaws, “Classic,” she turns to Minkyung, “So what are you here oh silent one?”

Siyeon props her elbows on her knees leans in eagerly, “Yeah, how did you get caught?”

Minkyung blinks, pointing to herself, “Me?  I’m not gay. My parents are right-winged nuts who sent me here after a political debate. I’m sure they’ll collect me in a few days. A week max.”

The cabin goes silent. Yebin and Siyeon exchange looks, and even Kyungwon is in on their silent communication, before they all look at Minkyung with trepidation.

“What?” she asks, feeling slightly defensive and self-conscious at the three pairs of eyes on her.

____________________________________)

“So you were around others who were comfortable with their sexuality. Did that affect how you viewed your own sexuality?”

Minkyung frowns, thinking back on it, “I think so? I mean, it wasn’t something I ever really thought about. I was never really encouraged to think about it, and then all of the sudden, I’m thrown into a place where everyone was really open about it.”

The therapist pauses his note taking, “Open? How so? I imagine being in a camp that forces you to think of it as a disease can’t be all that liberating.”

“Well…they didn’t like us talking about it in the open yeah, but people still talked about it when they weren’t looking – which is more than what I’ve had in the past, when it was all swept under the rug, or outright denied.”

“Was there a particular moment or instance when you realised that yes, I do like girls?”

Minkyung frowns, she doesn’t really think she can pull up a specific memory, “There wasn’t really a point where I suddenly knew I liked girls. More like a series of events, and eventually it was so blatant that I couldn’t deny it.”

____________________)

[mnetruinedmylife]

Immune

A Kyla (Pristin) centric piece that is a little too short to post on my AFF short stories collection

Kyla is sixteen when her worldview gets dumped on its head.

Just when she thinks she has everything figured out too. Life can be a pain like that. See, she had her entire life’s plan (for the foreseeable future anyway) already worked out. It had been as simple as ‘go to Korea, focus on training, debut and become a famous Kpop Idol’. Everything else had been secondary, barely an afterthought. That’s one of her greatest strengths, and at this point, most crippling weakness really. Once something catches her attention, she hones it on it, almost like tunnel-vision. She can’t really focus on anything except that one thing that has caught her interest – and that’s worked wonders for her so far. She’s here in Korea, and they’re going to debut soon.

Then Sungyeon, stupid love-song-writing Sungyeon, opens her big mouth and starts talking about boys and how they make great inspiration for songs. Of course, when she starts going into detail, Kyla tries to think of an event, or a moment, or any similar experience in her life that she can draw from too. Only she draws up blank. And then it wouldn’t leave her alone.

Why didn’t she feel anything like that for anyone? She’s sixteen, according to every manual in history she should’ve been crushing on someone by now. But she doesn’t, no flutter in her stomach, no infatuation, no desire, nothing. So Kyla turns to her one trusted source of information – the internet. Duh, she isn’t going to ask her unnies about this, Yewon will probably be a blushing mess, Siyeon would just laugh at her, this entire thing is Sungyeon’s fault, she doesn’t even want to know what the ’98 liners will say, Kyungwon just giggles and winks exaggeratedly at Minkyung, who has an adamant ‘no boys!’ policy, and Nayoung will probably just recite company guidelines.

A couple dozen google searches, tumblr pages, and information pamphlets later and Kyla has it narrowed down to a few options. She isn’t quite sure which it is at the moment, but it isn’t that important, she can worry about the specifics later. Now she can get back to focusing on the training again.

Then their little weekly concerts start up, and Siyeon wrecks everything.

Kyla knows that she cares about Siyeon – on an intellectual level – she cares about all of unnies, so she doesn’t really think much of it. It’s only after Sungyeon smashes a question mark into her head that Kyla starts to notice all the innocuous things she lets Siyeon – and only Siyeon - get away with.

A hand through her hair, a bump with her shoulder, the least awkward skinship she’s ever experienced – not that that’s saying much. But she's never looked at a person and felt a heavy hot curling in her gut, a strange catch in her breath - things in her, from her brain to her toes, coil and contract in ways she... hadn't actually ever expected to happen.

She’s sixteen and she's never wanted anyone. Not...like that. She's been sort of assuming that she’s aromantic or asexual.

Turns out Kyla is not either of those.

Kyla is sixteen when Yebin suggests that the rap line performs ‘I don’t fuck with you’ by Big Sean. Siyeon does a complete 180 when the music turns on, eyes hard, smirk on her face and –

She can see the shift of muscle that accents her sharp jawline when Siyeon starts spitting fire. Kyla’s seen Siyeon rap before, she has, but something is different since the elder girl came back from Produce 101. Before her raps had been nothing quite as… aggressive and powerful as this. Her voice is lower, harder, and at the end of her verse she growls and –

Kyla stops breathing for a second. Oh she is so not asexual.

They turn off the music, mull over the lyrics and re-write a few lines to get it flowing better, and then the music is on again. Siyeon jumps in right after Kyla finishes and the way she moves, the way her expressions change, it’s effortless.

Kyla’s skin shivers all on its own. She doesn’t actually realise she’s made a sound until Siyeon turns toward her.

“Kyla, are you ok?”

Said girl blinks, “Yes,” she says, and damn it, her voice is all…wrong. Higher. Cracked. She hadn’t expected that –

“Are you sure? You’re going red,” Yebin points out.

Siyeon looks confused.

And Eunwoo, who had been loitering around has disappeared completely.

Kyla blinks again, “We should probably finish up soon. Yewon and Sungyeon are due back for practice,” is what she says, but what she means is I need to go, right now, far far away. She doesn’t, if only because her freaking out and sprinting out of the practice hall might be misinterpreted. She isn’t quite sure how, just that it probably will be.

She only knows that her face is hot and she’s not quite sure what just happened.

[mnetruinedmylife]

Fine

Just some unfinished IOI drabbles

“I’ll be alright.”

Three words that are so easy to say. So easily believed. Not because they’re particularly convincing, oh not at all, but rather because people want to believe them. Everyone wants to know that she’s going to be ok, no one actually wants to entertain the notion that she’s not. Because that’s a complication, and as Sohye as found out in the last few month, complications aren’t appreciated in the music industry.

Which brings her to the crux of the matter, she’s in the music industry. Which deity had deigned it fit to have that happen? It’s not like she didn’t want it, no she did want it. Perhaps not at first when the dawning horror that her company had thrown her under the proverbial bus came to light.

“How would you rate your singing and dancing skills?”

Confused wide-eyes stare at the two casting directors, “Um…I can’t sing or dance?”

The two women in front of share a look – eyes shining, teeth slightly wider than before, Sohye is reminded of those sharks in Finding Nemo.

The one on her left leans forward, resting her elbows onto the table, “Really now?”

Sohye isn’t stupid, she knows what they wanted when they accepted her onto the show. A butt monkey, the focus of a few laughs, some uncomfortable flailing – because it was a total coincidence that Heehyun and Chaeyeon were waiting in the wings with five cameras pointing at each of their faces when she performed – maybe even an inspiring ‘most improved’ story, and then boom bang, pack your bags and leave little actress girl.

Only it didn’t quite work out like that. They definitely underestimated their little underdog story segment and she became a little too popular than planned for.

“Nervous Sohye?”

Sejeong’s concerned face greets her, and Sohye nearly bows her head in deference – habit, she’s supposed to be a good natured, meek, and polite girl after all. She didn’t understand Sejeong, not at first. Why choose her of all people to be on her team? Why waste time correcting her instead of practicing, when Sejeong herself isn’t that much of a strong dancer?

Then it becomes obvious why, and Sohye nearly curses herself for being so stupid – something about the show must be sucking her brain cells out because she wasn’t stupid before she joined. Idols do just as much acting as actresses do, only it’s not seen, or praised – they all have images. The words get thrown around so easily that Sohye doesn’t think many people understand what it actually means. An image isn’t just something an idol presents, an image is a persona that an idol adopts. One that is cultivated through training, one they took classes to perfect, one that is put on from the moment they are in front of a camera and sometimes even after.

When she learns this, everything is easier to navigate. She can do this, she’s been taught how to act for years now, it should be easy. And it is. In the beginning she fumbles because of embarrassment, sheepishness, and a little intimidated at being in front of a two hundred judgemental eyes – but now it’s hers, the fumbling, shy, Kim Sohye, and the audience loves it.

Being an idol isn’t that much different to being an actress, as Sohye discovers. Only the acting is almost 24/7. She kind of likes it even.

“I’ll be alright,” Sohye says with a smile, “The choreo for Dream Girls isn’t that hard anyway.”

For a moment she wonders if Sejeong would believe her, the elder girl is scarily perceptive sometimes. But all she does is curve her eyes into smiles and nods, “Good. Let’s do our best ok?”

Sohye nods, “Ok.”

She might not have originally intended it, but between the beginning and end of the show, she grew to want it. While it might not be as strong as those who have wanted it for all their lives, chased it for all their lives – it’s a start, it’s something, and when Sohye wants something, she never lets anything get in her way.

_______________________)

“Never let anything get in your way.”

Somi gasps, heart pounding in her throat as her eyes shoots open. She stuffs her fist in her mouth and holds herself perfectly still. She learns the skill while on SIXTEEN, midnight sobs and thrashing nightmares were common, but Somi didn’t want to bother her roommates, didn’t want to show weakness. She picks it up from Jihyo – who probably had a lot of experiences with it in the past ten years, and then perfects it while on Produce 101.

Never let anything get in your way. Never let anything get in your way. Never let anything get in your way.

She holds her father’s words in her mind. Repeats it over and over again like a mantra. Because if you want something, you have to be willing to do anything for it. She wants this, oh so badly. When the lights are blinding her eyes, and the roar of the crowd deafens her ears, it’s worth it. When she dreams of scowling faces, of shadowy masses, of taunts and jeers and wakes up in cold sweat, it doesn’t seem to be.

Sighing, she slides out of bed, picking her blanket and pillow off the floor as she did so, and throws them back on her bed. Everyone else is asleep, and she’s careful not to wake them when she slips out the door.

The lights are all off, but someone left the blinds open and the moonlight streams through. A shadowy silhouette approaches her and wordlessly shoves a mug in her hands.

Somi fights the urge to look down. Hot chocolate. It makes her feel like a whining kid. Then again, Sejeong has always had that effect on her. They sit down on the kitchen stools opposite one another. As the warm drink slides down her throat and warms her belly, Somi closes her eyes, as if she could will her tiredness away just by doing so.

Sometimes Doyeon joins them, opens the fridge door, pulls out the ice tray and sits down at the table, crunching down the cubes one by one. Chaeyeon never actually comes into the kitchen, but she sits outside on the couch. They know she’s out there, and she knows they’re in here, and no one says a thing.  

None of them ever ask why the others are up, they don’t even speak to each other, and by morning no one mentions it. The first time it happened, Somi could almost believe that she had imagined the entire episode – only for Jieqiong to bust that bubble when she loudly complains about where all the ice went.

---------______)

“If you keep smiling, people are going to wonder where all the ice went.”

Nayoung nearly rolls her eyes, but she supposes she’s luckier than most, “I really hope this stone image isn’t permanent.”

The first time she walks into the Pledis training hall, they’re having lessons on maintaining an image. The instructor takes one look at her and sighs, pinches her nose and probably sends a prayer to whatever deity she believed in. Nayoung knows that she can’t emote very well when stressed, it’s just the way she is – only idols are expected to smile and be happy all the time and those that aren’t, get branded by labels like ‘Ice princess’ if they’re lucky, or else they get ‘rude’ and ‘bad attitude’ tacked onto their image if they’re not. Or sometimes both, the Jung sisters seem to manage both.

Nayoung ends up with a character out of it. She should be thankful. It’s pretty much the entire reason why she got noticed in the first place. If it hadn’t been for Mnet’s little ‘Stone Nayoung’ segment, she wouldn’t even be on people’s radar. What could she possibly bring to the group that hasn’t already been given, and better too? Can’t sing as well as Yeonjung and Sejeong – can’t even sing as well as Jieqiong, or speak any foreign languages, can’t dance like Chungha, nowhere near charismatic like Somi and Sohye, not adorable like Mina or Yoojung, can’t act like Chaeyeon, not even as pretty as Doyeon. They’re going to realise their mistake voting her up soon enough, what could she, Im Nayoung, possibly—

“What are you thinking about?” Yebin interrupts her thoughts, poking her forehead with her index finger. It drags her back to reality, sitting on her bed, trying to pack because she’s supposed to be moving into a new dorm soon.  

Nayoung shrugs, folding a t-shirt, “Nothing, just…this whole IOI thing, seems like dumb luck that I got in and…” she trails off, flushing slightly, feeling extremely guilty and insensitive for bringing this topic up with Yebin.

“I’m not a delicate flower who’s going to burst into tears you know,” Yebin says wryly, “You can talk to me if you need to.”

“I can think of other things we can be doing aside from talking,” Nayoung points out with a smirk, right as a thud sounds against the far wall and there’s some muffled cursing on the other side, “See? Jieqiong and Eunwoo have the right idea.”

“Don’t distract me,” Yebin says, swatting Nayoung’s aside, “You know it’s not healthy for you to bottle up your feelings oh great leader. We only have a few hours before you’re shipped off for months, so talk.”

“We only have a few hours,” Nayoung repeats, running a finger down Yebin’s chest, “I’m going to miss you.” She gets her way in the end, Yebin always gives in.

She’s not avoiding talking. No, she’s definitely not. Because for her to avoid talking, there has to be something to talk about. There’s nothing to talk about – she got in as a fluke, and sooner or later, they’re going to realise what a horrible mistake this is.

-______)

This is a horrible mistake.

Chaeyeon paces back and forth along the corridor. Mind twisting into messier knots as she fidgets. What in the world possessed her to do this? She made it in, because of course she made it in, after the stunt Heehyun pulled. Makes it to A, one of the fastest runners, first one to pick her song, and what does she do? Pick one with a rap and fierce image like 2NE1’s Fire to prove herself?

No, because that would be sane.  

No, instead Heehyun picks Into the New World, with the fresh, cute innocent concept, grabs JYP’s Jeon Freakin Somi, Heo Has Already Debuted Chanmi, Jung Been On Two Mnet Shows Eunwoo, and sticks Chaeyeon’s face right in the middle of their formation. Stupid Heehyun. Insane Heehyun. Stupidly smart and insanely loyal Heehyun. Urgh.

She can’t be in two groups at once, there has to be some kind of rule against that somewhere! But apparently there isn’t, and she is.

It’s tiring, bone-breaking, exhaustive work, but that’s nothing new. Her sleep schedule is completely out of whack, she eats maybe once a day if she’s lucky, catches an hour or two of sleep if she’s really lucky, and is shunted from schedule to schedule. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like she’s even in her body, it feels like she’s sleepwalking through everything.

Stand there. Pose here. Run like this. Wear this. Put this outfit on. No try this one. Sit still. Smile. Look pretty. That’s a good girl. Devious little girl aren’t you? A perfect idol. Greedy isn’t she? So pretty though. One group isn’t good enough, has to have two. So well mannered. Kind of rude actually. Soft spoken, like a lady. Did you see the look on her face? Kids these days, no manners at all. She should be grateful. Did you hear what they say? Ah yes. Plastic surgery. Selfish. Down that road. A beautiful path isn’t it? Dreaming of a flower path. Do this CF Chaeyeon. That one too. Wait no we need you to fly to France now. Do you dream girl? I—

Chaeyeon’s eyes flash open. She slowly steadies her breathing, staring up blankly at the van ceiling as she did so. She should go to sleep. She has a schedule at four am. Wouldn’t do to look tired, the last thing she needs is more articles about her. Didn’t really matter all that much really, people would say what they want no matter what.

-____)

[mnetruinedmylife]

Marks

Characters: All of SNSD

Pairings: Taeyeon/Tiffany/Jessica/Yuri Sunny/Sooyoung/Hyoyeon Seohyun/Yoona

Notes: Soulmate AU

Tiffany’s had the marks for as long as she could remember. Yes, marks, as in plural.

During school, she hides the ones on her left wrist under cuffs, bangles and bracelets—unlike her fellow classmates who gush, and compare handwritings, hoping to find their match.

It was strange enough having two. She had to have three.

The first one is in blocky Korean, a sentence circling around her wrist that her mom translates to ‘Five more minutes mom.’

That soulmate will apparently be sleeping when she runs into them, but they sound friendly enough. Much better than the other mark that she was born with anyway, beneath the sentence wrapped around her wrist is two words written in a thin cursive script.

‘Oh God.’

That’s it, and Tiffany wonders what on Earth she did for those to be the first words her soulmate utters to her. At least it’s in English.

The third one appears when she was four months old, meaning this person is younger than her, still they are close in age—the other two could be thirty years older for all she knew.

The mark lies on her right hip, again in Korean, but according to her mom, a much neater scrawl which translates to, ‘You look like you can use some help.’

Tiffany spends most of her youth imagining scenarios that could lead to the third one. Sometimes she thinks she should feel bad about neglecting the other two, but well…what reasonable situation could she come up with for ‘Oh God’ and ‘Five more minutes mom’?

_______________________________________________________)

‘No, but I have Pokémon.’

Sooyoung doesn’t know what to think of her soulmate, except that they had excellent tastes in games. That alone, she thinks, is good enough for her.

It’s the writing scrawled over her shoulders that she has no idea what to make of, ‘That was quick.’ could mean any number of things.

________________________________________________________________)

Here’s what Kwon Yuri knows about her future. She’s the youngest out of all her soulmates; she was born with all her marks. When she learns how to read, she knows that she would speak first. She would speak first to all three of her older soulmates. Apparently they weren’t very outgoing types.

She also knows that she would follow in her aunt’s footsteps and dance instead of going into professional swimming like her dad wants her to. There is only so many situations that her mark (the one that spirals up her ankles), ‘Thanks, this week’s choreography hates me.’ can apply to.

Another thing she knows is that one of her soulmates is kinda bossy. That was putting it rather lightly. ‘That’s nice. Now take off your shoes.’ can’t be interpreted in a lot of ways. She wonders if she’ll meet them both in the same place, shoes and dancing could go hand in hand.

The third one is a little stranger. It sits right underneath her collarbone and says, ‘I’m still growing!’

Yuri was of course, prepared to withhold judgement until she actually meets her soulmates. But that doesn’t mean she wasn’t always curious about what kind of people they’d be.

______________________________________________)

Yoona’s always had a fascination with the words that are written just underneath her diaphragm in impeccably neat handwriting. The kind that her teachers would always point to when saying ���why can’t you write like that!?’

It’s got five simple words, ‘Yes I would like that.’ and she’s intrigued because they’re written so formally. Yoona doesn’t know a single person that has ever spoken to her with honorifics like that before and it’s kinda saddening, because it probably means that she wouldn’t meet this person until she’s older and speaking politely like the rest of the stuffy adults.

______________________________________________________________________)

Taeyeon isn’t born with any marks. Then one shows up when she’s a month old, another one turns up four months later, and if her parents weren’t already having a panic attack, the third one shows up exactly four months after that.

She’s not sure whether to thank whatever deity is up there that no more appear because she’s already having issues covering them up—or curse whatever deity is up there because of course she had to have three.

When she first learns how to read, the first one she deciphers is written vertically down her forearm. ‘Oh, so you do talk!’ She hates her soulmate already.

The one down her thigh (and the reason why she could never wear shorts) reads, ‘Brilliant, we get the midget.’ She takes back what she thought about the other one, she hates this person even more.

The third one is written in English, and it’s sprawled across her back. By the time she’s gained proficient skill in the language to even try to decipher it, she’s already beyond annoyed as hell at this person, because the bloody thing is over a paragraph long and it had to be a rant.

Despite her best efforts, she hasn’t managed to make out much other than, ‘Hi I’m ********* nice to meet you. ******************************************* ************************************************************************ ******************************************************************’

Taeyeon was not very impressed by any of these people. Especially the motor-mouth that used her entire back as a notepad.  

-__________________________________________________________________)

‘Wow, your body has great moves. I mean you move great…I like watching you dance. I mean you dance really well. I…Damnit.’

Hyoyeon thinks her soulmate is an idiot.

But at least she can thank that one for telling her about one of her favourite hobbies. The other one is completely useless, and even more idiotic than the first.

‘I’m hungry!’

Seriously, what is she supposed to do with that?

___________________________________________________________________)

 Sooyoung is eleven when she joins SM Entertainment as a trainee, and as stupidly cliché as it sounds, her first day will forever be imprinted in her memories.

She remembers the cheap floorboards that were only painted to look like wood, and the sturdy metal door that opens into the dance hall. The mirrors are lined up on the sides, while cloud-patterned curtains cover the bare plasticine wall on the far end. But all of that is secondary.

The first thing that catches her eye is the dancing brunette in the corner of the room. Her limbs are flailing all over the place and she doesn’t look like she has a care in the world. Before Sooyoung can even register what she’s doing, her feet are already moving.

A million things are running through her brain, thinking up of ‘cool’ phrases to say, but the word-diarrhoea that comes out of her mouth is:

“Wow, your body has great moves,” she feels like slapping herself in the face, “I mean you move great…” Urgh, someone kill me, “I like watching you dance. I mean you dance really well. I…damnit,” well there goes any chances of ever speaking to this girl ever again.

To her complete surprise, the black-haired trainee next to the dancing girl just pouts and moans, “No fair! It’s been like four months!”

Before Sooyoung could even begin to ask what that was about, the dancer speaks up, “That was quick.”

Sooyoung’s world freezes, and instinctively she pulls on the collar of her shirt and looks over at her shoulder. Yep. Those are the words.

The dancer looks her up and down and says, “So you’re the stupid one.”

“Hey, I am not stupid!” Sooyoung protests indignantly, “…most of the time,” she relents before a huge grin spreads on her face, after all she had just met her soulmark. “Hi I’m Choi Sooyoung.”

“Kim Hyoyeon, nice to finally meet you.”

“Finally? You waited four months,” the other girl says, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Ignore Jessica,” Hyoyeon says before lowering her voice to a whisper, “She’s just upset because she has three, and she’s been here longer than me, and none of them are here yet.”

“I can hear you,” Jessica points out petulantly.

“So, what’s your favourite food?” Sooyoung asks immediately. It’s her go-to question when meeting someone new, and it usually gets weird looks as a response.

Hyoyeon however, just cracks up laughing. When Sooyoung asks why, she wordlessly pulls back the sleeve of her shirt for Sooyoung to see. Sooyoung just grins, she can tell that they’re all going to get along famously.

_______________________________________________)

Jessica’s never had a lot of friends growing up, due to being a painfully shy child. Always hesitant to talk to others, always hiding behind her parents when they’re bringing guests over or trying to introduce her to friends.

But for some reason, Hyoyeon and Sooyoung stick to her like glue and the three of them are rarely ever seen apart. Despite the fact that the two of them are each other’s soulmarks, they never make her feel like a third wheel. After seeing one of her marks, the one on the back of her hand that refers to her as ‘sunbaenim’, Hyoyeon declares that they have to start behaving like ‘eonnies’ and break the new trainees in, whatever the hell that means. Jessica just plays along.

Which is how she finds herself standing outside the training hall, Hyoyeon on her left, and Sooyoung on her right. All three of them had their hands on their hips and are trying their hardest not to crack up laughing while glaring down at the obviously terrified newbie.

“Hey punk, haven’t you around before,” Sooyoung says, and it’s hilariously evident that she is trying not to laugh, but the trainee doesn’t even notice.

“Um…” the poor girl says, and for some reason she decides to focus on Jessica, probably because she is standing right in front of the girl, “Hello sunbaenim, I’m new.”

Jessica hears Hyoyeon inhale sharply, she knows that both her friends recognise the phrase on her hand, but she could barely think. Instead of saying anything remotely welcoming, she blurts out the rest of their scripted ‘hazing’.

“That’s nice. Now take off your shoes.”

So they watch as Jessica’s potential soulmark takes off her sandals and walk into the room pitifully.

“…That was yours right?” Sooyoung checks uncertainly.

Jessica just blinks, “I…think so…”

“Great! One down, two to go,” Hyoyeon cheers.

Jessica smiles and couldn’t resist adding, “Gotta catch ‘em all.”

____________________________________________________)

Yoona’s never really paid much attention to the shy girl that hangs out with Hwanhee. She was nice enough, but quiet and easy to overlook, especially by Yoona who bounces around to every friendship group with a huge smile and an adorkable laugh.

Three or four of the class normally takes the subway together after training. But this week Hwanhee’s got to stay back for extra lessons, and Jungmo went to buy a new guitar, so that just left Yoona and the shy girl.

Yoona, ever being the playful ‘choding’ that she is, bends low in a formal bow and holds out her hand to the shy girl, “May I have the honour of escorting the lady home?”

The girl’s eyes widen and her voice is slightly shaky as she replies, “Yes, I would like that very much.”

Yoona tightens her hold on the other’s hand ever so slightly, “You know, I don’t think I ever asked for your name.”

“Joohyun,” she says quietly, her lips quirk up imperceptibly, “Seo Joohyun.”

___________________________________________________________)

Not for the first time in her life, Taeyeon curses her alarm clock. For some reason it hadn’t rung on time (and yes, she did set it before taking a nap!), so now she’s late. Again.

Her instructor is going to kill her.

She sprints around the corridor, and spots something that makes her heart sink. Great. It’s the American girl, though luckily she just had one crony with her. Taeyeon still hasn’t forgotten about the three of them accosting her on her first day. New girl, wide-eyed from Jeonju, and what do they do? Embarrass her, that’s what.

City girls.

She did not have time for this right now. Unfortunately the girls spot her and one of them opens her mouth to speak—Taeyeon beats her to it.

“I’m lost and I’m already late as it is—

But the girl speaks over her and interjects snarkily, “Oh, so you do talk!”

“—can you just tell me where the training hall is!?” Taeyeon finishes, and then all three of them blink as each one processes exactly what the other just said.

“Brilliant, we get the midget,” the taller one says brightly, “She sings better than you,” she says to the American girl, which earns her an annoyed elbow in the ribs.

“I’m still growing!” Taeyeon bites back automatically.

Silence ensues as three pairs of eyes glance around at each other, unsure of what to say.

Taeyeon clears her throat, “Hi,” she says sheepishly.

“Hi,” the American girl says holding out her hand, “I’m Jessica Jung.”

“Kwon Yuri,” the taller one puts in.

“Kim Taeyeon,” and of all the scenarios that she had concocted in her head, this first meeting is definitely not one of them. Then Taeyeon remembers the rest of the marks on her, “Do you guys have…?”

“More, yeah,” Jessica nods.

“Have you met the other one?” Yuri asks hopefully.

Taeyeon shakes her head, “Nope, just you guys. But the other one…well…Actually, you can tell me what it says!” she says excitedly before turning around and lifting up her shirt a little bit, so Jessica can see the English rambling on her back.

Jessica takes one look at it and is too busy laughing for the next hour to be of any use.

____________________________________________________________________)

Tiffany bounces back and forth on the ball of her heels nervously.

She can do this!

After all, there’s no point going to Korea just to loiter outside her dorm because she was too nervous to go in.

She grits her teeth and twists the doorknob.

The room that greets her is a mess. The walls are a nice light blue, and there are two beds on either side. One is neatly made, and probably hers, because the other one is basically a lump with a blanket thrown on top.

The lump moves and a head pokes out, “Five more minutes mom,” the occupant grumbles blearily, before opening her eyes, “Hi, you my new roommate?”

“Hi I’m Tiffany Hwang nice to meet you,” and the ramble that comes out of her mouth is pretty much indecipherable as she went on autopilot mode. She knows that she has a tendency to ramble when she’s nervous, but this is getting ridiculous even for her. Oh god, someone stop me!

When she finally stops, she barely has time to duck before a pillow goes sailing through where her head used to be. Tiffany frowns, she’s had a lot of responses to her nervous ramblings—usually eye-glazed and slack jawed looks, but never a pillow to the face before.

“You!” her roommate glowers at her, “Do you even remember what you just said!? Actually no, just read it off my back. My entire back! Do you know how hard it was to go swimming with this thing!?” and with that, she turns around and strips off her shirt.

__________________________________________________________)

Tiffany was starting to wonder why she even came to Korea. Sure, she’s met one of her marks, but the language barrier was a much more problematic issue than she realised. Communication was something she had definitely taken for granted back in the States. It was incredibly lonely to not be able to properly speak to anyone.

So when she heard that there was another American trainee here, she was understandably beyond ecstatic. Finally! Someone that she could talk to. Someone that would understand all the things she found so confusing here. All the honorifics, and the shoes, and the bowing, and the apparent taboo subjects.

She practically skipped to practice that afternoon with a huge grin on her face, and spotted the girl that Taeyeon had described. It was impossible to miss her really—short, cool eyes with a very indifferent expression, surrounded by a shorter blonde, and a taller athletic girl.

“Oh, American girl!” Tiffany exclaimed excitedly, clapping her hands together.

The girl glanced at her and had that stereotypical ‘deer-in-the-headlights’ look and mumbled, “Oh god.”

Tiffany blinked, thinking back to all the different horrible ways that she had imagined the situation to surround that line, “Huh…That wasn’t so bad.”

_________________________________________________________________)

Platonic soulmarks weren’t something that many teens paid attention to back in sex-ed. After all, why would they when the tales of burning romance and star-crossed lovers were infinitely more exciting. What was a platonic soulmark, but a glorified best friend?

Hyoyeon realised that she couldn’t be more wrong. She and Sooyoung got along amazingly, but it wasn’t the same as her relationships with her other friends, like Jessica. There was something more, they complemented one another, and it was almost as if they possessed the same brain sometimes. Yet at the same time, there was no need for anything else, they were the closest friend the other could have. She didn’t know if that was because of the lack of a third—Jessica and Yuri never did anything before Taeyeon turned up (albeit, age could’ve been a factor there).

“I’ll show you useless!” Sooyoung’s enraged hiss snapped Hyoyeon back to reality, where she was sitting on the couch, watching her soulmate blowing some poor dude’s brains out.

“Ha! Suck it!” Sooyoung roared in triumph, trampling over the smug bastard’s limp body and kicking at his head, which lay disconnected, brains splattered against the brick wall, “Who says girls can’t game? Eat my f—

“—Do you really have to be this graphic?” Hyoyeon sighed as Sooyoung cheered, though she couldn’t bring herself to really be upset over it. She wasn’t her mother after all.

“I’m standing up for the pride of all female gamers out there,” Sooyoung defended with a grin. Her right hand reached out for the bag of Cheetos lying on the coffee table, her left continuing to manoeuvre her character through the maze of buildings.

“Sonuvabitch!” she cursed as her character got his head blown off.

“Ha,” Hyoyeon laughed, it was way too easy to get invested in these sorts of games, “My turn.”

“Wait, wait, gimme a sec. I need to kill this guy two more times,” Sooyoung muttered, she spotted the name of her killer in the little corner of her screen—‘Sunny25’. Brilliant, so either she was killed by a twelve year old—or else some college dude who decided to call himself a cutesy name to seem harmless.

“What happened to the second controller you had?” Hyoyeon asked, wondering why she was waiting for a turn instead of shooting stuff right alongside Sooyoung.

“Rage quit,” Sooyoung said simply. Barely a second after her character reappeared, his brain got splattered against the concrete. And then again, and again, and again.

“Ok, it’s totally my turn now,” Hyoyeon said as veins started popping out on Sooyoung’s forehead.

“Who the fuck camps in the re-spawn zone!?” Sooyoung exploded into her mic, “You juvenile shitheaded fuckwit! I bet you play COD, yeah, go back to playing COD!”

There was a silence in the game coms before a cheerful feminine voice answered with, “Nope, but I do have Pokémon. Relax Jeolla-do*, it’s just a game.”

Hyoyeon stared as Sooyoung’s hand slammed on the power button of her Xbox.

“Um…Wasn’t that your…?”

Sooyoung blinked, pausing for a tense moment, “Yes, oh hell.”

“And you just turned it off,” Hyoyeon continued.

“Yes,” Sooyoung stated dejectedly.

“We’re a disaster waiting to happen, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” Sooyoung agreed helplessly.

____________________________________________________________________)

Yuri found that she was very different from her marks. Where she’s outgoing, Taeyeon is shy. Where she’s athletic, Jessica would rather walk and be late than do any bit of running. Where she’s reserved, Tiffany is opinionated, and never hesitates to state whatever she’s feeling. They’re four very different people, and they shouldn’t get along, but they do.

Perhaps it’s the youth, their shared dreams, or the innate excitement of finding one’s mark. They give and take, push and pull.

“Here, let me help you with that. It’s one, two, turn,” Yuri’s hands guide Tiffany’s hips as they sway to the beat.

“Yul, try this exercise, it’s great for the abs,” Tiffany suggested after seeing Yuri stumble back from the gym, sweaty and red-faced.

“Hey Sica, breathe from your diaphragm, it’ll help hold the notes. You’re still breathing from the chest,” Taeyeon explained to a rather out-of-breath Jessica.

“Taeyeon, you should check out this cream. It clears the skin right up.”

_____________________________________________________________)

Just because they were each other’s marks, doesn’t mean that they would magically fit together seamlessly, like pieces to a puzzle. For every story of perfect happy ever afters, and greatest loves in the world, there were plenty about those who just couldn’t click. Sometimes they were just too different, or too similar to get along, headstrong personalities that clashed. Other times, people change, and they find themselves trapped, unable to be content and they wouldn’t know why.

No one knew the reason, none of the brightest minds had ever figured out how the marking worked. One day, you’d wake up with the person’s words on your body. There were no explanations, no mechanisms—none that could be documented or noted anyway.

Im Yoona and Seo Joohyun have no idea what they’re doing.

They don’t seem to match at all. It’s not just the obvious difference of one being loud and sociable, while the other is quieter than a mouse—they don’t seem to have anything in common at all.

Not even the reason that they’re there at SM entertainment as trainees.

Yoona wanted to be a dancer, Joohyun a singer. Yoona was energetic, always ready for another round, and while Joohyun was by no means lazy, she just didn’t possess the same zealousness for dance as the other girl, instead, channelling her energy into regiments of vocal exercises.

Joohyun was straightforward, always the one you could trust to tell it to you straight, couldn’t lie to save her life. Yoona was an aspiring actress, she could talk rings around a stranger and make them believe that her ‘poor great grandmother’ was dying and needed a kidney transplant.

Yoona loved dramas, and action movies—car chases and loud, spectacular explosions. She loved the gunfights, the escalating spectacles, and the fiery blazes that had her heart pounding. Joohyun preferred cartoons and fairy tales, cutesy animals and stories with morals, of elves and centaurs, and wizards and fables of old.

Yoona liked pop music. Light, fun, dance tracks that you could bop your head to, and spaz out with your friends, yelling the iconic lyrics out to the wind. Joohyun listened to ballads. Songs that revealed the singer’s soul, and touched the listener’s heart. Gentle rhythms that one could fall asleep, or listen to after a long stressful day.

Yoona attended school because it’s compulsory. She does averagely and managed to get good grades, all the while complaining about it like the rest. Joohyun strived for nothing less than excellence. She loved learning new things and hated the stereotype of entertainers being stupid—so she sets out to end that ridiculous notion singlehandedly—she’s show them, even if she had to stay up till 2am, with all her dance and vocal lessons in the way.

They hung out with the same circle of friends, but once they were alone, they could hardly say two words to each other. The conversations never come about naturally and they just don’t flow, often trailing to an awkward silence.

How fate decided that they were compatible, neither Yoona, nor Joohyun could understand.

_____________________________________________________)

When Sunny joined the company, she didn’t expect to be able to debut for years. Imagine her surprise when they tacked her onto a pre-existing group that was about to debut. A group that had trained together for at least two years, and had already been working on their choreography for six months. A group that was apparently split into three different soulmark bonds. Was her uncle trying to alienate her?

The first day was beyond awkward.

She’d come in, introduced herself, and gotten one enthusiastic wave (apparently the American girl was always excited), one formal bow (the maknae never strayed from her manners after all), and two half-hearted helloes out of the remaining six.

It was pretty clear how they divided up. The dancers went one way, and the singers went another. Dancers practiced their vocal techniques, while singers refined their dancing. Sunny wasn’t sure what to do. She needed to learn the choreography and learn the lyrics.

As she was watching the two groups, feeling more and more lost as they merrily talked, and laughed at inside jokes years in the making—Sunny wondered if she should just quit. The group that she was supposed to debut with, Sugar hadn’t gone through, and after five years of training, maybe she should just give it up. Her old company had gone bankrupt, and her uncle’s feeble attempt at fast-tracking her here was not working out. These guys obviously don’t want her here, and she could only imagine what kind of disaster discord between members would cause when they actually debut, and—

“Hey, wanna come practice with us?” the tallest girl asked with a bright grin.

“Um…Yeah, I…I’m kind of hopelessly lost,” Sunny admitted sheepishly.

“Eh, don’t worry about it. Half of our group are still asleep, but you probably already noticed that,” the tall girl indicated to one of the singers who looked like she was sleep-dancing, “Sorry, what was your name again? Soonkyu was it? I’m Sooyoung.”

“Sunny,” she said, a small smile appeared on her face. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Sunny?” a strange look passed over Sooyoung’s face.

“What is it?” Sunny asked, wondering what was wrong with her chosen name. It was cute, and most importantly fresh. Much better that grouchy old Soonkyu, what on Earth had her mother been thinking?

“Nothing,” Sooyoung shook her head, “It just reminds me of this annoying person I used to play Battlefield with.”

Sunny blinked, “Wait…” she narrowed her eyes, she knew that accent sounded familiar, “Jeolla-do?”

“Don’t call me that,” Sooyoung replied automatically before her mouth dropped open, “No way…”

“This is just too weird,” Sunny agreed, pulling back her sleeve, “Do you know how much trouble I used to get in by my teachers for writing swear words on my arm?”

“Sorry,” Sooyoung said sheepishly, “but that’s what you get for camping in the re-spawn zone.”

“Hey lazybums! Let’s get practicing!” Hyoyeon called.

“We’ve got the set!” Sooyoung exclaimed, jabbing her thumb in Sunny’s direction.

“I’m not a Pokémon you know,” Sunny said dryly.

__________________________________________________________)

*Sooyoung is from Gwanju, and she used to speak with a very heavy Jeolla-do accent. Hence why Sunny called her that.

Sorry about how long this took to get out. I was having major issues with everything and I’m still not too pleased with how this turned out…It’s completely all over the place…

Time changes everything.

It’s not often that we remember. After all, what’s ten days to a human? One thousand years is not even a blink in Earth’s history, but incomprehensible to us. Maggots to mayflies, mountains to dust. Mayflies to maggots, dust to mountains.

Time changes it all, Yoona and Seohyun know that more than most.

They were two distant ‘friends’—if you could even call them that, part of a larger group. Now they are two of the youngest, also part of a larger group. On the surface, not much seems to have changed. But after being surrounded by same-aged peers her whole life, suddenly Seohyun finds herself to be the youngest of nine.

Unnie this, and unnie that, and –yo ends up tacked onto every sentence. Yoona’s her closest age-mate now, and somehow, that just makes it easier to talk to her.

“You know, you don’t have to speak so formally with them all the time. They don’t really care about formalities,” Yoona tells her.

Seohyun shrugs, “I can’t really help it. They’re unnies,” she says, as though that explained everything, and when it came to Seohyun, it actually did.

“Well don’t do it for me,” Yoona says for the hundredth time, “Seriously don’t.”

Seohyun has to smile at how adamant Yoona is about it, “Ok.”

***

Yoona used to love being at the centre of attention. Whether it be the centre of her social group, introducing people to their future best friends, or centre stage as everyone watched her dance and sing.

Now she hates it.

“Attention whore always in the middle.”

“Whys the camera always on her!?”

Yoona clasps Seohyun’s hands and pulls her over to the middle of the stage with her. It’s almost a habit now, bringing the others along so she wouldn’t be alone with the members of Super Junior.

“Oh my god. What is she doing with Oppa!?

“Get away from him bitch!”

 She can’t help it if they talk to her. They’ve all been friends for years and Yoona’s always had more guy friends, than girl friends.

“Ignore them,” Seohyun runs her hand down Yoona’s arm and whispers, “They don’t matter. They’re just jealous that they’ll only ever get to see their beloved ‘oppas’ on stage, while you know them as goofy, drooling, idiots.”

“Lucky me then.”

“She’s useless. Can’t sing, can’t dance. Why is she even in the group?”

“You’re a talented actress, beautiful, brave, and more hardworking than anyone would ever know. You don’t need them, you’ve got your real fans, and more importantly, you have us,” Seohyun’s voice is always soothing.

Yoona gives her a small smile, “I’ve got you.”

***

They call Seohyun stuck up. A social stick in the mud, rigidly proper and polite. They think she’s a total bore, but Yoona knows better.

She’s seen every side of Seohyun.

The clumsy klutz who drops everything she picks up.

The dedicated hard worker who will never fail to meet deadlines.

The fangirling goofball who hums theme songs of Sergeant Keroro and spazzes over Jack Sparrow (she says ‘Johnny Depp’ to the cameras, but Yoona knows better—it’s Jack Sparrow).

The determined organiser who would somehow make a timeslot convenient for all nine members to sit down and have a group talk, (or Therapy Nights as Yoona likes to call them).

The mischievous prankster who wouldn’t hesitate to get one up on her unnies—now Yoona has to admit, all eight of them had a hand in creating that monster.

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” Seohyun’s voice drags Yoona back to their bedroom, her hot breath sends shivers down Yoona’s spine.

“You,” Yoona answers truthfully, eyes roaming over the absolute fantasy that was Seohyun in lacy black lingerie.

Seohyun quirks an eyebrow and her lips pull up into a deliciously smug smirk, “Good,” is all she says before sinking her teeth into Yoona’s neck.

In the beginning, they were far from a good match, let alone a perfect one. It’s funny how time changes things.

______________________________________)

A certain quartet wouldn’t find anything funny about the test of time.

In the beginning they had an uncertain, but fairly smooth start. Four who were so different, but gelled so easily. It must be fate.

Then the division makes itself apparent—and really, it is inevitable. Even looking back, how would they have acted differently?

Yuri and Jessica had known each other for years, Tiffany and Taeyeon were roommates.

They were always going to split in those two pairs.

Sure, Tiffany got along with everyone, ‘girl-talk’ sessions with Jessica, surprisingly existential musings with Yuri, and of course, everything else with Taeyeon. Jessica and Taeyeon got along swimmingly, both vocalists who often trained together, and even Yuri and Taeyeon managed to find common ground in bantering about their ‘American best friends’.

But it was an unstable foundation, and eventually everything goes tumbling down. It wasn’t one particular thing, or moment that they could look back to and say ‘that was it. If I could go back in time, I could change it’. No, it was the little things that slowed down their well-oiled interactions and fracture it from the base up.

Suddenly it wasn’t ok anymore; no, you’re not excused, and every little thing grates on each other’s nerves. Their manager starts to get concerned, asks questions, wonders if something happened to make them all upset. But they can’t give him an answer, there’s no one problem to give, and marks weren’t exactly something a celebrity advertises. After all, you had to at least give the viewers some illusion that they could get with the pretty girl group.

It’s doesn’t end there. It never really gets resolved, because their private lives aren’t exactly private anymore. Everyone’s privy to the charade of perfect unattainable single girls that they manufacture, and they knew, eventually something will slip.

So one half of the four move out. Then one of them start dating, or perhaps it’s a publicity stunt, the others never know. Then another starts dating. And a third one joins the relationship party, and the remaining ‘single’ girl leaves.

It all goes to hell again and again, and they all stay tight-lipped, because by then, what’s the point? One’s cut off contact completely, another one has decided to drown herself in a new variety show, and the remaining two dip their heads in the clouds with a screen of ‘bestfriendsforever’.

So the ones who are left, and the one who isn’t, didn’t say anything.

-______________________________________________________)

[mnetruinedmylife]

Free At Last

I’m basically doing house-keeping and dumping all of my old stuff online

Every drabble is based on the phrase ‘free at last’ and a random word from a tumblr prompt list. They range from tragic, to light and carefree, and everything else in between.

_____________________________________________)

River    125 words

The cool winds caressed her face as she stared out into the dark city lights. It was nice, she thought absently. To be able to walk down the streets, slouched, incorrect posture, with her feet turned outward, not a care in the world. As Taeyeon glanced at the icy waters of the Han River below, she allowed a smile to spread across her face. Not the dainty half-grimaces that her family deemed as ‘lady-like’, nor the over exaggerated ‘ajumma’ laughs that her betrothed lapped up, but a genuine soft smile.

As one foot stepped forward, she allowed herself one final glance up at the sparkling stars—somehow they felt slightly closer, more reachable than usual—before plunging into the murky depths below.

Free at last.

__________________________________________________)

Contract  161 words

The papers were shoved into her hands, wrapped up neatly in a thick manila envelope like some kind of hushed secret. As if the entire building hadn’t heard of it by now.

“I don’t want it,” she maintained adamantly. There wasn’t anything in this world that they could tempt her with to sign a deal with the devil.

“Don’t act rashly Soonkyu. You and I both know that your band is going one way from here and that’s in a downward spiral. You hold in your hands a contract that most in this industry will kill for.”

Sunny almost snarled, she had no use for sweetened words and bribes. Ripping open the envelope, she pulled out the ludicrously expensive papers and looked the executive in the eye, one hand held the paper firmly, the other reaching for the middle—and tore it in half. Grinning with smug satisfaction as the sound echoed in the office.

Finally, she was free at last.

___________________________________________________)

Horizon   123 words

It was stupid.

Beyond idiotic.

The most reckless thing she had ever done, and perhaps she won’t even live to regret it. But as her feet touched the grass below, hand in hand with the most important person in her world, she couldn’t bring herself to care all that much.

“Where are we going Yong?” she asked breathlessly, coming to a skidding halt at the top of the hill.

Yoona’s eyes glinted, reflecting the sea as she gazed down at the docks where several dozen ships bobbed lighting in the waves, “Where ever we want.”

Seohyun gripped Yoona’s hand tighter, laughter bubbling to the surface and they soon found themselves flat against the ground, staring out to the yellow horizon.

Free at last.

__________________________________________)

Red  122 words

Tiffany gripped at the photo frame with shaking hands, paying no attention to the cracks on the glass, not even as they grew, not even as they shattered under pressure. Her eyes remained glued on the smiling faces in the photo, paying no heed to the shards tearing into her skin, washing the picture in red, like her final memories of the people within. Of the carefree faces drenched in blood, unmoving as she knelt beside, throat raw and voice hoarse, and yet still no help came forth.

Pulling the bottle to her lips, she tipped her head back and swallowed down the vile liquid, burning her throat and warming her chest, until her vision too, faded to red.

Free at last.

___________________________________________)

Peace  176 words

“Just let me go,” her voice sounded foreign even to her own ears. So tired, defeated, hopeless, lifeless.

“Jessica—

“—No,” she interrupted, barely collecting the strength to hold up her hand. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself to try anyway, “Just listen to me for once. I’m tired, so tired. I can’t do this anyway. I don’t want to do this anymore. Why can’t any of you understand that? Please, I’m sick of fighting the inevitable, sick of holding on to something that’s already lost. If you love me, please just let me go.”

She shuddered, coughing heavily into her hand. Her chest constricted, lurching painfully. A voice cried out, hands reaching out, only for her to brush them away. It was as if all her remaining spirit had gone into that outburst, leaving nothing left but an empty husk.

The room fell silent, save for the beeping monitor by the bedside. For once, no one moved to call in help. For the first time in months, Jessica slumbered on peacefully.

Free at last.

___________________________________________________)

Promise  155 words

She sighed, pencil tapping against the wooden table top dully. As the teacher droned on monotonously, she decided to scribble sketches into her notebook instead. Graphite tracing long and round lines, etching out the faces and expressions of those in the classroom— “Ow!” She jolted as a sharp pain dug into her stomach.

Seohyun’s disapproving face greeted her, “Pay attention!”

Her hand snapped up in salute, “Sir yes sir!”

“Ahem! Would you like to add something Miss Im?”

“No sir,” she mumbled, cheek’s flushing red as the rest of the class laughed.

“Yoona…” Seohyun stared at her sternly, and she couldn’t help but grin.

Fingers drawing an X over her heart, “I promise, I’ll pay attention,” she whispered.

Before Seohyun could express anything else, the bell chimed, signally the end of class. Yoona’s lips twitched upward into a wide grin, and she grabbed her best friend’s arm, sprinting out of the room.

“Free at last!”

_______________________________________________________)

Chains  173 words

The metal door slammed open with a bang, blinding light flooded into the room, casting red and blue hues over the stone bricks.

Yuri jumped, whimpering behind the shelf. What in the world was going on?

She could hear shuffling and muffled voices as footsteps thundered into the room. She hugged her knees closer, curling into herself, perhaps they won’t find her. Breath hitched, praying that her pounding heart won’t give her away, she swallowed, painful against a dry throat. Head burrowed between her knees to stop the dizziness.

“There!” a voice shouted.

And she knew it was over, she shut her eyes, heart leaping into her throat as the footsteps came closer.

“Oh my god.”

“He kept a girl down here? Jesus Christ, it’s that missing girl from—

“Not now!” the other lady knelt down next to her, “It’ll be ok now, we’ll take you home.”

Yuri cracked open one eye, not daring to hope, “Home?” she croaked, chained metal jingling at the slight movement.

“Yes dear, home. You’re free at last.”

__________________________________)

Lead  147 words

The head rolled off his shoulders and landed on the carpet floor with a sickening crunch. Hyoyeon paid it no mind as she ploughed through the next set of obstacles in her way. A flurry of limbs, a twang of metal on metal, before finally coming to a stop in front of an ornate door, painted white with colourful stones imbedded along the side.

Kicking it open, she entered the room, flintlock cocked in one hand, and brandishing a cutlass in the other.

“Hello Governor, fancy seeing you here,” she greeted cheerfully. Before he could do so much as open his mouth, she sent two lead pellets in his head, “Goodbye Governor, it’s been good talking to you.”

There was an immense satisfaction to watching the body of the man who killed her men fall lifelessly to the ground.

Finally, her crew will be free at last.

________________________________)

Lake  120 words

She didn’t need it.

She didn’t want it.

The only thing it ever gave her was grief and trouble, and yet, others would kill to have but a mere fraction of the lot. Faces flashed through her mind, her parents, her siblings, her friends. Those that have thrown away their lives protecting and procuring it—and for what? To live a retched life alone, in fear of those who would come to steal it, just as they have done so?

No, Sooyoung decided and did what her family and so many before them failed to do. Lifting the sack by the bottom, she emptied the contents into the lake, watching it go plunging into the murky depths below.

Free at last.

________________________________)

You know it really speaks wonders for the state of my mind when my brain equates ‘freedom’ to suicide, binge-drinking, euthanasia, and murder (a massacre really)…

‘Red’ was my favourite one to write by far, what do you guys think?

Oh, and I think ‘lead’ was supposed to mean ‘in the lead’ or ‘leading’ or something of that matter, but I decided to interpret it as in the metal lead, makes things more interesting.

[mnetruinedmylife]

Untitled 2

An old drabble, I don’t even remember who it was about anymore

“You will never be completely at home again, because part of your heart will always be elsewhere. That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place.”

Her bedroom felt oddly barren, despite the mountain of junk that threatened to spill out of the closet. The place was exactly as she had left it all those years ago, back when everything was naught but a fleeting dream, a fanciful wish that was an eternity away. Now ten years later, she was here again. Dreams accomplished, achievements that far exceeded the hopes that seeded them.

For a while she was tired, longing for home, missing her family, her friends, and now she was back. She had them all again, had her own bed, her own space, her old friends that were but a text message away. Yet she has never felt more alone. The room was far too quiet, the house devoid of life, her friends who seem more like strangers.

She reached the stars, shot to the moon, and yet it seemed like all for naught. At the end of the day, she was right back where she started. In an all too quiet room, within an all too large house, between the echoes and the ghosts of what if’s and what-could-have-beens haunting the walls.