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lu-is-not-ok · 1 year ago

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Everything you need to know from Leviathan

First things first: this is Not a story summary of Leviathan. This is merely a collection of all the pieces of characterization, backstory, and worldbuilding that I believe is or will be relevant in Limbus Company.

I encourage everyone who has finished Library of Ruina (or doesn't care about spoilers to that game) to read Leviathan yourselves, as I will be skipping over most of the actual plot of the novel.

Also, due to the nature of Leviathan as the direct sequel to Library of Ruina, some endgame spoilers to that game will inevitably come up. That being said, I will try my best to keep those spoilers as minimal and vague as possible.

Preamble: Done. Let's get into this. Something something long post warning ahead. It's also kind of chaotic and borderline incomprehensible. If I missed something then, uh, whoops.

Event Timeline:

The end of Library of Ruina directly causes an event dubbed "the first miracle" by some, and "the second passing of White Nights" by others, during which the people killed in the Library would begin returning to the City as if nothing happened.

An orphanage in the Backstreets of District 22 (V Corp's) was at the epicenter of this event, being destroyed in the process and causing the Ring to take interest in the children raised there.

The events of Leviathan follow half a year after this event, and seem to take place over the course of at least a few days. It's as of yet unclear how much time has passed between the end of Leviathan and the beginning of Limbus Company.

Vergilius:

Vergilius comes from District 22 (V Corp's), a Nest filled with wide water canals and boats that make use of them, making it somewhat reminiscent of Venice.

Vergilius used to be the operator of a highly-experienced and skilled Fixer Office. The lowest Grade Fixer at that Office is Grade 3 until a rookie joins them during the events of Leviathan. This Office seems to be dissolved by the end of Leviathan after half of the Fixers working for it die.

Vergilius's title, the Red Gaze, is a stealth pun in Korean. The word used for Gaze is a homophone to the characters used in an epiphet meaning Immortal Poet.

The red eyes Vergilius is named after appear to have a certain kind of aura to them, which causes him to draw attention to himself and be easily recognised. For missions where stealth is involved, Vergilius has a special pair of glasses to make his gaze less recognisable.

Also, Vergilius owns whole-ass calling cards with his Fixer title and a portrait in a Roman-inspired style.

As a Color Fixer, Vergilius is extremely strong and fast, being able to crack the ground underneath his feet when running at full sprint and literally cut through buildings. In fact, Vergilius's body is heavily augmented with artificially woven muscle fibers, which Vergilius compares to hydraullic cylinders and motors in how it feels to use them, though they're not literally mechanical. Despite that level of power, he's noticeably less experienced or skilled than another Color Fixer seen in Leviathan - Iori, the Purple Tear.

Speaking of her, Vergilius appears to know quite a bit about her, including her name, what happened to her in Library of Ruina, and what one of her goals is. She's also implied to have taught Vergilius a technique called Shin that gets introduced later in Leviathan. Also, Iori calls him a junior, implying a difference in either age or experience between the two. Oh, and he also knew Roland.

In addition to knowing those people, Vergilius appears to have also known Carmen before she died. He recognises the nickname Carmen uses for him within the Light as the one she used for him back when they knew each other. Also, back then, Vergilius's weren't as they are now, implying they've known each other before Vergilius was a Color Fixer.

For some time during his work as a Fixer, Vergilius has had the ability to sense "Flow". A fate-like pressure that he sees as trails of shadows and light, pointing him towards a destination he doesn't know. It's a force he notably struggles to resist, only being able to by following dim Flows, rather than the slow but bright Flow. However, doing so merely brings ruin to Vergilius's life, as the dim Flow inevitably guides him back to the slow Flow.

For ten years, Vergilius has been visitting an orphanage in the local Backstreets, donating money and goods and spending time with the children there. He even keeps an old photograph of him with all the orphanage's residents on him.

Before he found the orphanage for the first time however, Vergilius would go on rampages and kill people he believed were contributing to the horrible current state of the City. One of those rampages involved the slaughter of a whole Syndicate, the leader of which was Lapis's father. It's heavily implied that all the children within the orphanage landed there as a direct result of Vergilius's actions.

Vergilius is consistently shown to be stoic and emotionally distant, yet deeply caring underneath his aloof exterior. This is most clearly shown through his relationship with Garnet, the previously mentioned rookie who was raised at the previously mentioned orphanage. Though Vergilius denies Garnet's claims that he raised him, and regularly thinks about how Garnet's sentimentality is going to get him killed, yet he also can't help but feel proud of Garnet in moments where he truly shines, care a lot about Garnet's safety, and feel horrible guilt when he fails to protect him.

Back during his rampaging days, Vergilius is unable to show mercy, with his "attempt" to do so involving giving the last survivor a cut that would let them survive for a few hours, in gratitude for giving him a code to the door. Inversely, current day Vergilius appears to have softened, as his gladius has a heating mechanism that immediately cauterizes the wounds it inflicts. This ensures non-fatal wounds remain not fatal, even if leaving his target alive could cause him issues later on.

Vergilius's motives for taking care of the kids at the orphanage despite being the one who orphaned them are as complex as they are layered. Guilt is clearly a part of that, as Vergilius believes there's no reason for him to see Lapis again when Garnet offers to take him along for his meeting with her. Another part of it might have been Vergilius secretly wishing that one day, one of the kids would realize what he'd done and take their retribution... however it's unclear how "canon" that particular motivation is due to it only being brought up in a vision of a Mirror World. The orphanage was also a reprieve from his former reality filled with wails and begging for mercy. It was a place of warmth, filled with voices of delight waiting for him every time. At the same time, it was a source of hope for him. A place where he could redeem himself, to raise children who could live with the heart he couldn't have, and who could potentially change the City with their virtues alone. All of these motivated Vergilius to cover up and forget about his true goal. One he's been actively burrying during his visits at the orphanage.

That goal? Redacted from the viewer. The first explicitly set up mystery in Leviathan. However, we know that it is directly tied to how Vergilius wishes to change the City.

Vergilius believes that the City is deeply wounded, with its injuries having festered for a long time. He believes that the way to change it is to continue spilling blood, never letting it dry out. To try and pierce through the City's thick shell into its wounded core. When describing the world he wants, he says it's "a world that can only be understood once you feel it with your whole body".

After a talk with Carmen, Vergilius effloresces into his E.G.O, which allows him to wield blood as both a weapon and armor. It also allows him to become one with pools of blood, however he would be unable to leave them if they were to dry while he's inside. However, the usage of his E.G.O is limited by the amount of other people's blood he has available to him. If he were to run out, he'd be forced to use his own, dying painfully in the process.

Also, Vergilius keeps coming up with one-liners when beating people up. It's kinda funny.

At the end of Leviathan, Vergilius is invited into Limbus Company, being promised to give him Lapis (who had been replaced by Charon) and Garnet (who has been reduced to a tiny glowing jewel) back. Thinking back on his past, Vergilius accepts, though the story ends before we get to see the exact terms of his employment.

Charon:

Previously, Charon was known as Lapis, and was one of the kids at the orphanage Vergilius would regularly visit. She was especially close friends with Garnet, who would later become a Fixer and join Vergilius's Office. In fact, Garnet notes how Lapis wouldn't usually open up to anyone but him, and when they did talk she would often talk about Vergilius. She's also noted to not be a fan of studying.

Lapis ended up at the orphanage after Vergilius killed her father during his slaughter of the Syndicate he led. While we don't get to know much about her father, we do know he cared deeply for her, to the point his last words were calling out her name.

In a flashback to her childhood, we learn that Lapis would always suck on bitter candy as she's able to preserve it and suckle on it little by little, whereas sweet things melt away much sooner. She follows this anecdote of hers up by revealing her wish to "try all the flavors in the world" when she grows up.

After aging out of the orphanage, Lapis got a job at a fruit-harvesting company. During the events of Leviathan, Lapis has decided to meet up with Garnet at a private location. However, the area turned out be occupied by Syndicate members, including that of the Ring, and Lapis was kidnapped to be used in the Ring's experiments with Mirror World technology.

At the end of Leviathan, Lapis turned out to be the only of the "gems" to have survived the experiments. However, she did so because she was the only successful one. Her former identity was completely erased, replaced by that of Charon. Initially, Vergilius is hesitant to make contact with her, feeling like keeping his distant will save both of them from pain. However, he relents when Charon finds a still living piece of the jewel Garnet had turned into.

Gubo:

Gubo is one of the researchers at N Corp, and during the events of Leviathan he comes to an auction held by the Ring for the sole purpose of gaining access to their Corridor and retrieving Aseah.

His connections to a Wing allow him to casually bid 10 billion Ahn like it's nothing. Gubo is also notably frustrated when the auctioneer appears to be breaking their own rules, trying to convince them that doing so would put their gallery in ill repute.

To enter the Corridor despite his failure at the auction, Gubo is willing to sacrifice the lives of the people that had accompanied. Notably, Vergilius is able to tell that Gubo did no fighting himself due to his appearance, reckoning he merely hid while others fought in his stead.

Gubo is someone who's willing to keep himself calm and composed regardless of the situation. He's constantly calculating ways to reach his goal, willing to do anything and pay any price to do so. However, that composure is said to reflect insecurity, obsession, and yearning. He is shown to take some ridiculous risks in pursuit of his goals, attempting to attack Vergilius twice despite being clearly outmatched against a fucking Color.

Despite N Corp being at potential odds with the Ring, due to them kidnapping Aseah, Gubo doesn't act hostile towards the Ring's members outside of getting rid of those who were directly standing in his way.

Aseah:

During Leviathan, Aseah is the main researcher working on the Mirror World technology for the Ring. He's specifically working on modifying and tuning an invention made by Young-Ji, the Glass Window.

By that point in time, Aseah had already joined N Corp, however the Ring kidnapped him to use his knowledge for their own gain. Despite such seemingly dire circumstances, Aseah does not seem bothered to be working for the Ring in the slightest.

Aseah is a cold and usually emotionless individual who only cares about his research. In fact, he only ever shows emotions, specifically passion, when realizing he's made a breakthrough or describing how the technology he's researching works. He's easily swayed to risk other people's lives for the sake of pushing his research even further.

One of this main motives for using the Glass Window is to create a Singularity to surpass Yi Sang's creation, as well as any other competing technology of this kind. Despite his self-imposed rivalry with Yi Sang, Aseah still calls him a friend.

At the end of Leviathan, Aseah is successfully retrieved by Gubo . However, a question is posed: for both to get back out of the Corridor, Aseah must be able to know how to navigate it. If that's the case and he could have escaped this whole time, why didn't he? He must have had reasons to not fly away, even though his cage was wide open. Add that to the mystery counter.

Limbus Company:

Limbus Company shows up at the very end of Leviathan, being a new enough Company for Vergilius to have never heard of them before.

A Special Operations Team from a department called LCA raids the Ring's lab, specifically searching for Vergilius. A woman with hair that seems white from far away, but appears graysih close up, approaches him. This is revealed to be Faust, and she's the one who gives Vergilius an offer.

Work for Limbus Company, and we can bring Lapis and Garnet back.

The Ring:

The Ring are a Syndicate that are said to only believe what they see with their own eyes, and are dedicated to the creation and display of various types of art. They also hold auctions for various pieces.

Some of the Ring's art falls within our understanding of it, such as paintings and sculptures. A large amount of it however includes acts of extreme violence or otherwise cruel behavior.

Many of the lower-ranking members of the Ring and Backstreets residents under their protection are considered to be akin to students, being graded on their pieces and taking art exams. While the Ring does allow resits on their exams, flunking too many times will result in death. In such an environment, a lack of inspiration causes people to have mental breakdowns.

As far as we've seen, the Ring hold two different types of art galleries, which I'll refer to as Syndicate-facing and Public-facing respectively.

Syndicate-facing art galleries are structured more like schools, complete with classrooms and suspicious "art" exhibits within the halls. One of those exhibits we see are "statues" of people with animal heads. However, these statues are actually sill living people that are forced to stay completely still under the threat of violence, or "scolding". Oh, and those people also had their mouths and ears sewn shut. This particular exhibition is revealed to be a part of a test that the Ring was holding that night.

Public-facing art galleries look more akin to modern art galleries we'd see in our world, and their lower floors are accessible to pretty much any public person. These floors are filled with more standard types of art, like paintings and sculptures. The top floor of these galleries is considered the VIP floor, where auctions are held and the true disturbing nature of the Ring is shown to the guests there.

During the auctions, every participant has a veil put over their head, and they are to bow in respect when the one holding the auction enters the stage. The art pieces sold on these auctions can be anything from paintings of real slaughters that took place in the City, to objects made out of or containing pieces of actual people, to straight up dancers stuck eternally dancing in glass stages in which time flows slower. Additionally, the person who wins the bid on the "meister's most cherished work" will be allowed into the Ring's Corridor.

At the time of Leviathan's events, the Ring not only has access to the Corridor, but also Mirror World technology in the form of the Glass Window.

A secret research lab was kept hidden within one such Corridor, where the Ring would test Mirror World technology on "gems" - young people who came from the orphanage at the epicenter of the Miracle. These experiments involved these people experiencing many Mirror Worlds at once within their mind, with those people physically shattering if pushed too far.

The Ring's goal with their research of the Mirror Worlds is to open as many Rifts to as many of them as possible, with one of the high-ranking Ring members saying they wish to open ten thousand rifts at minimum.

This plan appears to be thwarted by the end of Leviathan. It's vaguely implied that N Corp and/or Limbus Company seized the tech in the Ring's possession, leaving it unclear if the Ring still has access to it currently.

Over the course of Leviathan, we learn of two different high positions within the Ring: Docents and Maestros. Each can be identified by the kind of ring they wear on their ring fingers. Also, all of the ones we've seen thus far are gender non-conforming as fuck.

Docents are responsible for taking care of and monitoring the art galleries. Notably, they are responsible for guiding guests and giving lectures on the lower floors of their public-facing galleries. These lectures appear to involve explaining the ideals of their Maestros. Docents wear two-coiled rings that extends down the top of their hands and coils around their wrists.

Maestros are responsible for holding the auctions and appear to have a high amount of control over the Ring's actions. They wear three-coiled rings. They also notably act a lot more according to what they believe is true art, as opposed to the Docents who can still be swayed by money and social standard. As an example, Maestro Jumsoon decides to give his most prized artpiece not to the person bidding billions of Ahn, but to the person who convinces him they can complete the piece due to being personally involved in what it represents.

N Corp:

The physical location of the Ring's secret lab appears to be within N Corp's District. However, due to its entry point being connected to the Corridor, it's unable to be accessed from outside the Corridor.

One of N Corp's main source of income and culture are so-called suicide vending machines, or vending machines that dispense canned experiences that specifically allow a person to experience suicide. This bit of technology is considered both amazing and condemnable, and is said to be one of the main reasons people move to N Corp's Nest.

N Corp Taboos are upheld vehemently. Recorded footage of that secret lab, even without knowing it's located in N Corp, would result in Taboo Hunters being sent out over the breaking of the Nest filming taboo. They are highly efficient, going after everyone who had seen the recording before finally retrieving the footage.

M Corp:

M Corp's full name is MDM Enterprise. In Leviathan, we see M Corp do business with the Ring through delivering their product to them - an entire moonlight stone.

A moonlight stone delivered in a massive box filled with a flesh-like cushion around the stone. Opening the box requires using an unlocking mechanism composed of multiple various levers. Everyone present in the same room as the box during its opening are required to wear ear plugs, while those actually opening it also require airway protection. Upon being pulled open, the stone needs to be cut out of the flesh cushion using a knife.

If sufficient ear protection is not worn during this process, the sound the stone emits while being forced out of its container will cause all that hear it to experience a "wave of hiraeth". This is shown as a sort of dissociative state where the person rambles about the ocean being their home and family, and how they need to return to it.

The moonlight stones themselves appear similar in shape to large pearls. The Ring appears to use them by putting them in translucent containers, where the stone is attached to multiple electrodes and tubes for a yet unclear purpose.

The Light:

After the second passing of White Nights, people would begin transforming into forms similar to cocoons or eggs. This happens when a person becomes aware of how unbearable the world around them is, causing them to retreat from reality.

When seperated from their bodies, people establish their... Redacted. Yet another mystery. However, it's implied to be something along the lines of the ideal world they wish to create, or the dream they wish to make true. If they manage to set this Redacted and endure the process, they can be born anew as a Distortion (or potentially with Effloresced E.G.O). If they can't their bodies are seized by their sins, resulting in the creation of a Peccatulum.

This process is pointed out as being different to the process of Distorting that we're used to seeing, though it's not yet unclear to what extent.

The inside of the Light as utter stillness, shimmering as if somethered in light. When someone is inside the Light, Carmen attempts to guide them towards a specific conclusion, acting kind and trying to absolve them of any guilt over their actions, while showing an utter lack of pity or genuine feeling. She's able to see past the facades people put up, directly looking into what they have been through. She uses that knowledge to direct people towards realizing their true desires and wishes.

Carmen is able to meet and talk with people whose hearts "crack". Who are too overwhelmed with their emotions in the moment. When she discovers a person's true wish has been buried and hidden away, she acts as if the act is so painful that it hurts her by proxy. She uses this opportunity to offer these people the power to create they consider right, one only for their own eyes.

She claims that she's helping everyone paint the City with their own colors, much like the Light, in which all colors perfectly blend together. When it's pointed out to her that doing so would be impossible, due to everyone's colors being different and thus it being impossible for them all to exist together in perfect harmony, Carmen responds by saying everyone should be dedicated to protecting and fighting for the sake of their own world, even if it means fighting the entire world itself.

Carmen describes the process of Distorting or Efflorescing E.G.O as becoming a "self unbound by the eyes and standards of the City", with Carmen attributing the latter to being Ayin's idea. Carmen says that she believes the final destination of everyone's ambitions is Love, specifically unconditional Love towards oneself, as the only person that can truly understand and love them is themself. This is where Carmen and Ayin come into conflict. Ayin believes people should be able fight using clothes and tools, holding the human form in high regard. Carmen, on the other hand, sees that as unnecessary moderation, and argues one should express their love through their body, so that it and their heart can become one.

Effectively, Carmen is trying to guide people to only caring about themselves and their desires, disregarding everything around them. She does so through a "friendly, yet ruthless pressure", by offering the seemingly perfect solution of absolute self-love at the cost of being blind to one's reality. She knows what the "right" choice is, and will be disappointed if one were to choose the other option, but she won't stop anyone from pursuing their desires even if their way is different from what she's envisioned.

...There is a purpose to it all. A goal Carmen has for herself. After all, she's a person too. It's another bit of information that's redacted, setting it up as yet another mystery, but we do have a hint towards what it could be. Somehow, a person who was given power by Carmen failing to fight for their wish appears to contribute towards Carmen's personal purpose.

Speaking of that, Leviathan reveals another, more violent way to defeat a Distortion. By proving the fundamentals of a Distortion's beliefs wrong, by breaking the foundation upon which their wish was built, the Distortion begins to fall apart. With nothing left to its form but vague concepts, an Abnormality is born, tearing out of the Distorted person's body and killing them instantly.

Peccatulae:

The Peccatulae are the result of the process enabled by the second passing of White Nights, in which a person retreats into a cocoon-like form upon finding the world too unbearable and faces an ordeal within. If the person fails the ordeal by not being able to find a wish for which's sake to return to their world, their body is left to be fed on by their sins. This results in their bodies transforming into manifestations of those sins - the Peccatulae. Once this transformation takes place, it cannot be reversed.

Peccatulae are not Distortions, as they are what happens when one lacks the strong desire needed to either Distort or Effloresce E.G.O. They are also not Abnormalities, as unlike them the Peccatulae can be killed.

The Peccatulae visually lack any humanity they may have had before the transformation. At the same time though, the cries they let out are compared to that of humans burdened by life, by the sin of bearing sin.

Those cries are also seemingly able to affect one's mind, causing memories associated with the Peccatulum's Sin Affinity to resurface.

The Glass Window:

The Glass Window is a piece of technology created by Young-Ji, which was co-opted by Aseah and studied by the Ring. This technology is considered to be a Singularity by Wings and Grade 1 Fixers.

The main function of the Glass Window is superimposing Mirror Worlds onto whatever is viewed through it, though in a blurry state. It's noted to be less stable than Yi Sang's Mirror technology, but in exchange it's capable of superimposing a much larger number of Worls at the same time.

The amount of Mirror Worlds and their intensity can be controlled through modifying the Glass Window's Refraction Rate. A higher Refraction Rate allows more overlayed Worlds to stack, at the cost of "yielding more of one's heart to the Glass Window".

Surviving high Refraction Rates without physically shattering involves attaining focus - a process involving perishing one's heart without killing it.

Most weapons cannot damage the Glass Window.

The Corridor:

The Corridor is a piece of technology that the Ring owns during the events of Leviathan. It's a liminal, seemingly-infinite space that can connect to places all over the City. As long as the area they wish to link has an exit, a matching entrance will appear within the Corridor.

Many of the doors within the Corridor are locked using mental locks, to be able to enter them one needs to think specific mental keywords as they attempt to open the door.

Inside the Corridor itself, electronics such as video recorders and ear pieces appear to malfunction.

Despite the Corridor being a mostly linear space, the complex and intricate rules by which its passages connect make it more than possible to get lost within. As such, navigating the Corridor is usually done when accompanied by a guide.

To navigate the Corridor by oneself, one needs to always remember two things - their starting point, and their destination. Knowing those two points will allow one to be able to find their way by feeling which directions to take. This is due to a phenomenon called Reversion of Causality, a phenomenon which some Singularities take advantage of as well.

Breaking through a wall in the Corridor leads to a massive hall made of constantly shifting purposeless surfaces lined within even more purposeless doors. Staying within this outer hall is dangerous, as one would become stuck here if the doors within the Corridor reassembled themselves.

Shin and Mang:

Shin is a technique Vergilius learned from (who's implied to be) the Purple Tear. Shin involves completely relinquishing the control of one's body to one's mind, specifically one's memories and the feelings associated with them. When Shin is used, it causes glowing rings to appear around the weapon (or body part if weaponless) one is using to fight. The glow of these rings is constantly emphasized to be that of the moon.

Vergilius describes Shin as "the power of Light", and "the power of sin".

To use Shin, one needs Mang (referred to as luna/lunae when not a proper noun), often multiple of them. Using Mang is described as filling onces emptied minds with dense and heavy memories, then letting the lunae of these recalled feelings guide one's movements.

Random Miscellanous Bits of Info:

It's a tradition in District 8 (H Corp's) to gift apples on Christmas Eve, to wish the giftee a peaceful night.

Cellphones in the City seem to be at a stage in-between Iphones and slightly older smartphones. The screen only takes up roughly half of the phone, but it appears to be a touchscreen due to the lack of mechanical buttons.

Related to that, payphones also exist in the City. The District the payphone is in gets shown to the one recieving a call from one.

The Seven Association holds seminars for new and aspiring Fixers that teaches them the basics, such as information about major Syndicates, Singularities, spatial awareness, etc. The Seven Association also holds Fixer qualification tests.

Higher education is something one can pursue in the City.

There are still video recorders that use videotapes in the City.

Cognition-warping ID Cards are a thing within the City. However, they are noted to only be useful for brief deception.

One of the canonical Mirror Worlds is literally our world.

Airplanes don't exist in the City.

#lu speaketh #limbus company #leviathan project moon #project moon #this took. so fucking long to write down.#my mouse ran out of batteries in the middle of me writing this #it was hell #but it is done

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ctrlsatoru · 1 year ago

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DIABLO - TOJI FUSHIGURO

content: techbro billionare!toji, reader is gojo's little sister, age gap (toji's in his mid 30s, reader in mid 20s) kind of ooc toji, suggestive themes, no smut yet. warnings: 18+ only. suggestive themes. explicit language, references to sexual assault. toji having no sense of decorum. reader is engaged so, cheating? but not really and not yet. minors do not interact. pairing: toji fushiguro x afab gojo!reader word count: 8k a/n: i was listening to diablo by lexie liu and the rest was herstory. started as porn without plot but things escalated. will proofread this later. summary: Toji Fushiguro looks like a problem, and you know better than to let curiosity get the best of you, until boredom strikes.

There was a time when you speed-walked through this very same building with the drive that only a determined intern could contain. Six days a week, from busy mornings to late nights, you embraced every task they tossed your way, seamlessly transitioning between the demands of different editors.

In the midst of it, one newly appointed creative director saw your efforts and took you under her wing. What began as a professional mentorship soon evolved into an enduring friendship that extended well beyond your time at the magazine.

Utahime Iori, a guiding presence in your life, became one of your favorite people in the world—a friend with whom you shared an unspoken understanding, effortlessly reading each other's thoughts with a single exchange of glances across the room.

Fast-forward five years, and the abrupt, intrusive ring of your phone tucked under the pillow shook you awake. It was Iori on the line, her voice laden with urgency and distress. She was stuck in Kyoto, needing you to do her a solid one. Her father’s condition had worsened overnight, and she wouldn’t be able to make it back to Tokyo for a critical photoshoot.

And so, here you stand, back at the bustling headquarters of the technology and culture magazine where you started your career. Despite your throbbing headache and the relentless fatigue that clings to your tired eyelids, you refuse to let your friend down.

Today's mission: capturing profile photos for an enigmatic tech mogul, a figure so elusive that no magazine has ever managed to secure an interview or collaboration. Probably some Zuckerberg from shein with an amped-up eccentric, incel overlord edge.

Iori had shared the name and a brief overview of the assignment during her desperate call, but the details had slipped through your grasp in the haze of your concern for her.

If you remember correctly, the concept is something corny along the lines of Diablo.

“Ok,” you breathe after the third scalding gulp of coffee that someone thrust in your hand the second you arrived.

Utahime's assistant, a young girl with striking blue hair and asymmetrical bangs named Miwa, looks up from her phone at you with bright eyes, relieved that you’re finally showing signs of life.

“Uh, who the fuck is this guy again?”

You’re momentarily distracted by how cold this place is. A shiver cuts a straight line up your spine. July in Tokyo is no justification for keeping the set at industrial fridge temperature, you think. For some reason, Miwa’s opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of the water. You know Utahime can make any seasoned truck driver sound graceful when she’s under enough pressure, so it can’t be your choice of words.

You fail to notice your surroundings coming to a stop, or the shadow towering over you.

“Toji. Toji Fushiguro.”

Oh.

That's one way to sober you up.

You’re definitely awake after hearing the deep yet smooth rumble behind you. Everyone within earshot gets ready for what’ll happen next as that oh shit realization settles on your shoulders.

But you’re no longer the eager intern who hid in the bathroom to cry after a rookie mistake. Nothing in your face gives away your heart threatening to crawl out of your ribcage. You turn around bravely and face a soft, dark blue surface.

No choice left but to look up… and up again, until he’s framed inside the thin silver structure of your glasses.

Your first impression of him is simple: no one this tall should stand at this close of a distance. There should be two, or three meters between you to make up for the lack of an acceptable height.

Toji Fushiguro -the name does stick this time- tilts his head to the side and gives you what might be the most shameless once-over. His eyes feel like a dark green horizontal light scanning you from head to toe. It ends with a quizzical expression on his face. The irk is triggered within the second.

“Who are you?”

That same question pops into your mind.

The hair team probably spent twice the time it took you to get here on LA traffic to arrange his inky black hair in the perfect unbothered way. There’s a healthy glow on the sharp edges of his face that can only be the result of seamless natural makeup, enhancing his ruggedly handsome looks.

You’re thinking that by too big, Iori meant that he’s massive. Literally. Wide shoulders block the tungsten spotlight behind him, casting a shadow on you and drawing a luminous halo around his silhouette.

Nothing’s angelic about him. You can tell just by looking. It’s a family gift. You may not have your brother’s electric baby blues, but you have the sight, as he calls it, and the alarms in your head are off.

Miwa shifts her gaze between you like she’s about to shit herself when Choso, the head photographer and a good friend of yours, cuts through the tense atmosphere with admirable ease. He rests a warning hand on your shoulder and takes it upon himself to introduce you.

"She'll be our director today, stepping in for Utahime."

Toji Fushiguro turns to Choso, his eyes never leaving you, observing.

“Why? What happened to Utahime?”

"She had an unexpected family emergency and asked her to fill in. She's worked with us before, and she's excellent at what she does. You're in capable hands today."

What a star, Choso. A beacon of diplomacy. The world would be a much more peaceful place and the arms industry would collapse if he got into politics, you’re sure.

Still under his scrutiny, your expression remained composed. You knew his steely smile would fade soon, and—

“Well, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?” Toji concludes breezily, extending his hand toward you.

You reciprocate. Unlike him, you don’t even look down to see how his palm engulfs yours. You just know it will. He on the other hand lifts both eyebrows at your firm handshake.

“I look forward to working with you, Gojo.”

Two hours in, it occurs to you that it might be the case that everyone on set is under some kind of horny spell.

Him nearly walking through the backdrop five minutes in and laughing it off with a cocky comment and a devilish grin sets the entire set on edge from the get-go.

Apparently there’s something about an overwhelmingly tall, ripped, attractive grown man pouting like an iPad kid when his tiny but scary female assistant comes in between breaks to confiscate his phone. There’s a brutish charm about him that makes people act like Victorian gentlemen glimpsing an ankle for the first time in their lives.

The wardrobe assistants are in a heated discussion about how many hands it would take to wholly grasp his bulging biceps.

You, however, remain the skeptic, observing from the fringes. Though if you took any part in the conversation, you’d point out how fucking thick his neck is. Does he lift weights with that thing? What does he need all that for?

When the makeup artist approaches him for touch-ups, he widens the distance between his feet until his face reaches a comfortable height for her to work away. The behind-the-scenes team gobbles it up like ravenous piranhas, and you expect to see this doing numbers on the magazine’s YouTube channel.

Done with feeling out of the loop and not satisfied with what you catch from the set gossip, you take a bathroom break and allow curiosity to get the best of you. You lock the stall door, sit on the lid, and google him.

His name auto-completes after just three letters. You stare at the Toj on the search bar before digging in.

Techbro, self-made, controversial, messy family background. He was the mastermind behind the acclaimed video game, Diablo, which exploded in popularity during the early 2000s. For years, he's faced criticism in several countries for glorifying violence, gang activity and accusations of satanism. You have to chuckle at that. Nonetheless, Diablo hit it off big and he went on to found a videogame and software company under the same name. He's been steadily encroaching on giants like Tencent after repeatedly refusing buyout offers.

Buzzfeed has a trove of ridiculous articles filled with GIFs of him looking scary and hot at the same time, of him looking like the bodyguard of everyone’s dreams, of him taking no shit from the press. Of him looking like a character out of his videogame. You get the idea.

But something else in the personal life section draws your attention.

He’s a Zenin. And not a distant one. He’s Naobito Zenin’s very own nephew.

According to a twitter thread, he severed ties with his fucked up dynasty of a family when he was younger and paved his own way under his late wife’s last name. The reasons for the fallout are unknown to the public, but theories are abundant in the replies. You bookmark that for later.

You can't help but wonder if your brother knows him.

With all this newfound context, you’re almost disappointed that he showed no offense to your frankly rude introduction. After all, you’re a Gojo, the impulse to antagonize a Zenin runs through your veins. And if it’s not an inherited impulse, Satoru personally taught you how to handle them. One of your favorite early teen memories of your brother is watching him reduce Naoya Zenin to tears.

The handshake felt layered, like a declaration of war tucked behind a steely smile. There’s a glint in his eyes when he catches you looking that contradicts the unbothered, enigmatic persona people are simping for religiously online. It’s there and it’s gone, but you’re fast enough. It tells you that he’s playing nice as a temporary measure. If you have to guess, he’s planning to make his team bring up your misstep up to the magazine higher-ups.

You're torn between concern for Utahime and a deep-seated desire to see him try.

The day unfolds smoothly with minimal intervention on your part. You stay behind the monitor and let the crew do their job. Your role mainly involves offering insights when requested by the wardrobe team and flagging promising shots with Choso.

Seeing him go through different stages of boredom and despite his not-so-wide variety of facial expressions, you note the camera doesn’t hate him. It's a unanimous consensus that, in another life, he could have pursued a career in modeling, or perhaps even acting. When someone inquires about your opinion on the matter, you become the focal point of a few discreet side-eyed glances. Your response is a non-committal hum.

Your attention is currently fixated on the last sequence of preview shots displayed on the screen, there’s a very specific detail that you just can’t let pass.

“Can we take a quick break? I wanna try something.”

Choso, taken aback by your sudden initiative, responds, “Yeah, of course, take your time.”

Toji’s face drops from the draw of his eyebrows as you approach him.

“Hi,” he says with that off-putting lift of the corners of his mouth that is supposed to be a smile. He’s probably thinking that your stalling is only prolonging what he wants to be over with.

“Hi,” you catch his inquisitive glance at the objects in your hand. “Is it okay with you if I wipe off your scar?”

His eyes snap down at yours as he thinks it over, squinting for a bit. You’re certain he’s about to tell you to fuck off when he nods briskly, opening his palms as if beckoning you closer.

“Go ahead.”

It's a polite, seemingly harmless green light, yet it feels like you're a bird about to peck at grains of rice beneath a box suspended by a stick.

“Can you—”

He reads your hesitation and does the same thing you’ve seen several times today. He opens the distance between his feet, clasping his hands behind his back. You, for some reason, wait until he looks up at the ceiling like people on the makeup chair usually do out of instict, but he stares at you instead.

Taking a Q-tip soaked in micellar water, you start working away the thin but high coverage layer of foundation, careful not to overdo the edges. A few swipes in and the natural rosy hue of scarred tissue appears, a few shades darker than the color of his lips. It’s a slender, vertical ridge that cuts across his lips, about an inch long. A feature too distinct to waste.

You pull back and he takes the brief chance to run his tongue across the scar, pulling a face at the taste he finds.

Unfazed, you wipe away any excess micellar water and—well, his saliva, you assume—with the dry side of the cotton swab. Once you’re done with that you pat away with a disposable puff dipped in translucent power, just to get rid of any unnecessary shine.

“All good? You satisfied?”

“Yes.”

“Cause you don’t look satisfied.”

You’re happy with the outcome of your tweaking, yes. The overall shooting? Well, you’re not in love with it, but you don’t have to be. This whole thing has Utahime’s and the magazine’s aesthetic written all over it, harsh contrasts, blunt shadow.

“This is Utahime’s concept, I’m going with the brief,” You answer, taking a step back to get an overall look and consider any further touch-ups, stopping him when he starts to go up again. “No. Stay right there.”

“What concept would you go for?” he asks, complying pointedly.

“Like I said, I’m going with the brief I was given.”

“But if you were the original director?”

You wouldn't even be assigned to the task. You left the magazine shortly after you finished your internship and never looked back, even though you liked it here and were being given a much nicer offer than you were expecting. The reason for it being that you found out that your brother had been wining and dining members of the home editorial, showing interest in negotiating for the magazine.

It was a no-brainer for you to part ways and find another way. These days, you work with brands and entertainment agencies that allow for more creative freedom, usually sought out for your particular aesthetic.

“I wouldn’t be so heavy on making the tech oligarch look human.”

You reply more out of impulse than calculation, the same way you touch a cat’s tail knowing there will be consequences.

“You suggesting I don’t look human?” He flashes a cold grin at you, kind of like a warning. it’s gone as soon as you blink at him.

The novelty has worn off. Most of the crew are busy doing their own thing, discussing lunch and stretching to alleviate the fatigue of a long day. A few lingering glances remain trained on you— Miwa, Choso, his soldier of an assistant. Toji doesn’t wait for your answer.

“So, what do I look like, then?”

Like a shark, you think. Don’t ever grin at me again, creep.

“You’re a curious one, aren’t you?”You tug lightly at the neckline of his shirt, just a pinch of the fabric, barely touching him at all. "Maybe that should be included in the profile."

He hums. “I do get bored easily.”

You conclude the brief interaction and walk away, acknowledging Choso with a nod, all the while ignoring the way Toji’s amused eyes linger on you.

Like you’re just postponing the inevitable. Whatever that might be.

He finds you later that day, after you’ve wrapped up.

He enters the room with the unspoken confidence of someone who believes he owns not just the studio, but the entire building. Like he's just acquired the magazine and now feels entitled to disrupt your peace with a shitty opening sentence.

“Your work.”

You look up from your phone and find him in the mirror in front of you. The hair and makeup team packed their stuff a while ago, all the stations are clean and deserted, and only the lights remain on.

“It’s… interesting. The butterflies, are they alive?”

You look up from your phone and find him in the mirror in front of you. The hair and makeup team packed their stuff a while ago, all the stations are clean and empty, and only the lights remain on.

“Sorry?” You’re unable to hide your annoyance at the unexpected interruption.

“I googled you. Your work. It’s eye-catching, quite… I guess eccentric’s a good way to describe it. Very edgy.”

You’ve heard your fair share of similar comments in the past, but he pouts and frowns with the last two words and irritation pulls at you. You let your hands drop to your lap.

He leans nonchalantly against the door frame, arms crossed, undeterred by your silence and your less-than-friendly attitude.

“I was wondering, are the butterflies real or is it CGI?”

You can’t for the life of you decide if he’s being serious, or decipher his intentions. “Neither. They’re props.”

“They look very realistic.”

“They do,” you agree. “That’s the intention.”

“And the flowers?”

“Those are real. For the most part.”

“I see. So how would you have me?”

“Excuse me?”

He visibly fights back a smile, and you wonder if this one would’ve reached his eyes, but seeing how you’re going back and forth like you can’t let the other get the last word, you doubt it. You doubt that he’s capable of such a human thing. Smiling warmly. Honestly.

“You said not so heavy on the looking human earlier, so what concept would you go for if we worked together?”

Because he won't leave you alone to discuss dinner plans with Satoru and Suguru, you stand up from your seat and turn around to rest against the floating station. Facing him like this feels a lot safer than speaking to him through the mirror while giving him your back.

He’s dressed in his own clothes, a basic light gray t-shirt several tighter than the soft material the stylist put on him and a pair of dark jeans. His phone is, as usual, attached to his hand, constantly lighting up with notifications.

“I don’t know. It usually takes me a week to get a feel of the concept.”

“I saw the tank pictures,” he replies a bit too quickly as if he didn't care for your answer. You’re certain that you don’t like this man. You don’t like how bluntly he describes your work, or that you immediately know what he’s talking about.

Knowing how things went on that particular set and from the way he looked absolutely done in the most basic environment without having to do much work, that would be a disaster.

“I wouldn’t put you in a tank,” You snort dismissively, and he tilts his head curiously.

“So?”

A string of visual prompts runs through your mind. You’d submerge half of his face in black tinted water, or have his head resting on a white surface, make blood spill from his eyes. Perhaps you'd drown him in smoke or apply early 2000s mechanical prosthetics to his face and neck. You’d make his skin flush like rubies as if it were burning to the touch. In every single one of them, his scar is left untouched.

“Nothing you’d be comfortable with.”

“You see, I think we could meet in the middle.” he reasons, very eloquently, like he knows just what to say to negotiate with you. You imagine that this is the same voice he uses with his board members to bend them his way. “Can’t say I’d be down for the body-pilling thing or the full-body suits, but I’m sure we could come up with something that leaves us both satisfied.”

“Are you trying to hire me right now?” You’re genuinely confused. And hungry, and tired, and nursing a lingering hungover.

“No,” he chuckles, like the notion is absurd “but you looked bored on set today, and I think I could live up to your vision, is that the word?”

“Right, uh huh.” you nod, very condescendingly, remembering that you’re no longer filling up for anyone or hold any professional responsibility. This is just some man wasting your time. “So what is this? You got a praising kink or something?”

He’s unbothered by your dig. “Not that I know of. Can I be honest?”

You lift your shoulder in a half-hearted gesture. It's not as though he cares about seeking permission anyway.

He lets his eyes drop to the floor and looks back up at you with a bashful little grin.

“I’ve just always wanted to fuck a married woman.”

You’re not as surprised as you are relieved that he’s cut to the chase. He’s not the first man to detest you and want you at the same time. Men often blur the lines between disdain and sex. It’s only fun when they don’t get too comfortable or want to only deliver and fold when it’s their turn to take.

The situation settles on you. The room seems smaller now, and the distant sounds of people outside have all but faded away. He's blocking your only exit, put you in this tight spot intentionally.

There’s a possibility that he’s some exception to the norm, that he can take as much as you suspect he can give, but you’re not going to find out.

“Too honest?” He's devoid of any shame or attempts to sound apologetic. Instead, he's assessing you closely, monitoring you for any reaction.

You know men like him. He has to be used to people eagerly dropping to their knees with just a tilt of his chin. Most of the people you worked with today would do so without hesitation. But Toji Fushiguro, with his insincere smile and unflinching demeanor, harbors far more selfish and hostile motives than bending you over the same chair you were sitting in and making you watch in the spotless mirrors.

“Should’ve kept my intentions to myself?”

A corner of your lips lifts, and he zeroes in on it.

“Didn’t scare ya, did I? You’re a big girl, you're not gonna run.”

He’s daring you now. Fully predatory, like he’ll do something at the slightest indication. Shark. You picture him stalking his way into this secluded space that only the crew knows about after finishing recording videos for the magazine’s social media accounts, his shadow looming across the narrow corridor.

Fear and power. That’s his deal. He either wants to witness a furious flush down your neck, your throat bob in trepidation and your hand look for your phone–

“And do what?” You cross your arms, refusing to cower. “MeToo you? Expose Japan’s mysterious self-made billionaire hellboy? Reddit would riot.”

–Or he wants you to bite back.

“I mean, considering the way you were eyefucking me I think I could probably pull the reverse MeToo card on you.”

Your chin drops, your eyebrows go up, and your head leans back at the accusation. Were you? Eyefucking him? Maybe.

But so was the whole room.

And nothing’s stopping you from bullshitting. “Someone’s optimistic.”

“Is that it?” he smiles, tantalizing. “Do you always just take on the job of the make-up kids out of the goodness of your heart?”

You're not going to indulge him with an answer to that. It's not uncommon for you to take on various roles and responsibilities during your projects. There was a time at the beginning of your career when you engaged in every aspect of your work, from styling and set design to prop work, editing, and even makeup.

“Right. You go ahead. Tell Instagram that I sexually assaulted you with a cotton swab.”

“It’d be just another Monday for Gojo’s PR mercenaries, right?” he pushes you further, casually dropping the G-word as a last resort.

“Everyone likes to look at pretty things, don’t be cocky, old man.” He starts blinking real fast like he’s never been called old to his own face. “Earlier, you asked me what you look like.”

The scrunch of his nose indicates that he wants to say something before the subject changes, but ends up only squinting at you.

“I did ask you that.”

“You look like a problem,” you let your words hang in the air for a moment. “And not the kind I have fun dealing with, no offense.”

Finally, he grins again, tongue coming out to just graze the edge of his canines. Something inside your belly moves as you follow the movement.

“And I’m not married yet, so– you might want to take your intentions somewhere else.”

He nods thoughtfully, then he buries his hands in the pockets of his jeans and lifts his shoulders, taking in a deep breath. The motion reveals a thin line of hard skin under his shirt and just the edge of his underwear.

Water under the bridge.

“Well, no harm in putting it on the table, right?”

Your phone buzzes. Your car is waiting for you outside. You move like he’s not standing by the doorway and blocking your only way out.

“Have a pleasant day, Fushiguro. It was nice to meet you.”

It’s Friday when you see him again at your friend’s birthday party.

He’s lurking his way through the party, nursing a drink with his eyes attached to the screen on his hand until the birthday boy himself hunts him down. Haibara, producer and pitchfork sweetheart whose debut album cover art you worked on earlier in the year.

It’s a funny sight, it would be almost endearing if it weren't for the fact that it's him. The sunshine main character dragging the hunched, brooding giant along with him. Toji looks like he’s trying his best to keep up, half-amused, half-annoyed, nodding as Haibara rambles away. You wonder how the two even fit inside the same room, Haibara being so charming and Toji, a walking threat.

Then you remember Haibara mentioning that he's been working on the soundtrack for a video game.

Your friends’ conversation mingles with the music and flows around you. Someone’s getting married to his ex-husband’s father. Yuki’s about to open her third concept store somewhere in Europe. You can’t be bothered to focus too much on catching up, but you do meet Shoko’s eyes across the room when Mei Mei says something particularly questionable.

You see a hint of longing in her eyes, a shared sense of missing Iori, just as you do. On a brighter note, her father's health is finally starting to improve.

A hand wraps around yours, and another settles on your shoulder. The cold press of a ring on your skin brings you back to the present. You look at your fiancé and get the dreaded feeling that you’re an impostor pretending to know what to do with a man so devastatingly beautiful.

Hiroki leans over your shoulder. “Car’s here.”

His hand feels hot and clammy on yours as he leads you out of your friend's sight, turning back occasionally to make sure he hasn't lost you in the crowd. He won't stop until you're both outside, standing by the side of the street.

“Call me when you land?”

Of course, he will. Nothing has changed. He’s starting a new project in some small town in the middle of nowhere in Europe in 24 hours. You won’t ask him to stay. Six months will pass, and nothing will change, you’ve both done this before.

But you stall. He always calls a car with this in mind. You kiss by the sidewalk, he squeezes you in his arms until your bones fight back. You’ve done this before. It’ll happen again, considering how his acting career is taking off overseas. You’ll do it time and time again until–

“You taste like pennies,” he tells you, and you can't help but laugh softly into his mouth. Your finger traces the barely there curve of his thick, straight eyebrows.

“Make sure to take an aspirin.”

He nods, always sweet and obedient when you’re nagging. You tuck a strand of hair away from his eyes so that people don't fall too hard for him on his flight. His hair has grown longer in recent months, part of his preparation for a role.

Back inside, Yuki makes room for you by moving her legs off the couch. She asks if everything is okay, and you pull her legs onto your lap, rolling your eyes. She knows you too well.

“Don’t gaslight me. Something was off.”

“Do I look like something’s off?”

“No, but you’re a fucking oyster. Hiroki’s not that good with his face for an actor. He kept looking at you like he was afraid you’d disappear.”

Choso chimes in, draping his arm around her shoulders. "They're getting married. I don't want to jump to conclusions, but I think he might like her, and he might enjoy looking at her."

Looking out of the window, your gaze naturally drifts toward a figure seated by Haibara’s covered dock. Earlier, it was adorned with twinkling lights, but now, even in the dark, you can discern a solitary silhouette in the middle of the glittery ocean.

Mei Mei taps her cigarette, fixing her eyes on you from the other side of the couch.

“Does it have something to do with Toji Fushiguro asking about you, by any chance?”

Your stomach drops. Your group of friends reacts quickly.

“Huh?”

“What does Toji want with you?” Yuki asks, face snapping at you. “Is he trying to get to Gojo through you?”

“We worked on a shooting with him a few days ago.” Choso calmly explains before she can come up with any conspiracy. “She was covering for Iori. Made quite the impression on him, I think.”

“Oh, Satoru’s gonna fucking hate that.” Shoko laughs, unexpectedly loud in her inebriated state. “Please, please fuck him. He’ll be so pissed if you fuck him. It’ll be hilarious.”

“No respect or regard for Hiroki.” Choso shakes his head, and it looks like he’s laughing from the way his shoulders move up and down. “Poor bastard.”

“Yeah, well.” Shoko shrugs, not bothering to hide her dislike for your fiancé.

You shake your head and roll your eyes. “He’s just pissy because I was not— exactly professional. I think the asshole might try to get me blacklisted.”

Choso makes a noise of disagreement. Yuki frowns in concern. “Shit. What did you do?”

“She showed up hungover, asked who the fuck he was when he was standing behind her, and traumatized Miwa.”

“Not Miwa. She's an angel.”

“Whatever you did, he’s asking around…” Mei Mei adds with a sick barely there smile, finger on her chin. You don’t like how well she knows you. She makes you feel like she knows exactly what went down that day.

You wonder how well she knows Toji, and how much he told her.

What exactly he asked.

“...and let’s just say that he’s not the curious type, so make your assumptions, everyone.”

You tap Yuki’s thigh without thinking twice and push yourself off the couch. A string of accusations about scaring you off follow, and Mei Mei teases you about not meaning to do that.

“Fuck off, I just need some fresh air.”

“But you’re gonna consider it, right? For me? Come on, it’ll cheer Iori up.”

“I’m not gonna fuck some random man just because you think it’d be funny, Shoko.”

And you’re pretty sure Iori would be the first to tell you to stay away from him. Shoko sags against the back of the couch like a puppy you stepped on.

You step out of the house, past the pool, the limestone steps, and stop only to take off your sandals. The sand is cold and yielding, no traces of the warmth of the slow Atami day left, soft grains clinging to the soles of your bare feet.

Haibara’s dock stretches out into the ocean, endless until you reach the far end and leave behind the sound of laughter and music. It’s him, like you suspected, sitting on the edge, his legs hanging over the sea.

With one elbow resting on his thigh and a phone in hand, his other palm supports his face. You sweep a strand of hair over your shoulder and inhale the salty breeze, opting to linger a while before revealing your presence.

“I think I got it.”

He looks up at you, momentarily caught off guard, allowing you to take a triumphant sip from your glass, the alcohol causing a painful sting inside your cheek. He's still engrossed in the medieval game he was playing from days prior, his commitment minimal, his thumb hovering over the screen.

You leave some distance between you as you take a seat, your glass resting between you. It’s a high drop from here, the water looks as if it could freeze you instantly.

“Hand-held CCTV cameras aimed at your face. Like guns. Point blank.” you finally elaborate, once you’ve found a comfortable position, demonstrating with your hand.

“Sounds fuckin’ uncomfortable.” he remarks, eyeing your demonstrative fingers. You wonder if he’s drunk and how much alcohol it would take to get him there.

You drop your hand, and he follows the movement. “I warned you.”

“So I don’t get flowers? No butterflies?”

“Nah.”

He lifts his gaze from where it had settled on your thighs, and you absentmindedly tap your ring finger against the bare skin out of habit.

“Thought I was pretty.”

You snort in response. Tonight, the moon shines particularly bright, illuminating the dock lounge. It's a serene spot to catch a break from the lively party.

“I changed my mind.”

He sucks on his teeth. “You can’t take a man’s virginity for being called pretty and then take it back.”

“If it helps, you’re still objectively nice to look at.” You say behind your glass. No point in lying, he’s hot. And self-aware. And you’re not blind or ashamed to admit it.

“Objectively nice to look at.” he repeats, like he’s getting a feel of it, or memorizing it for future use. “What about the fiance, then? ‘s he pretty? Enough for flowers and butterflies and shit?”

“I met him working for an editorial. He did get flowers.”

“Ah, I see. So, does he do that often?”

You let another sip wash down your throat, this time tilting your head to the side to avoid the sting.

He returns to his game, and you trace the profile of his nose while the screen highlights the hollows beneath his eyes and the fine lines around his mouth. If you were a bit more intoxicated, you might be tempted to snatch his phone and toss it into the water, anything to halt the conversation about Hiroki. It would force him to look at you instead.

“Leave you alone at parties.” he adds.

You've momentarily forgotten the initial question. “He’s my fiance, not my babysitter. I can take care of myself.”

“Never suggested otherwise, did I?” he sniffs, and a part of you, the sensible one, contemplates returning to your friends and disregarding whatever pulled you out here. Leave him be to enjoy his game and stay away from the one brewing between the two of you.

“What about your entourage? Are they comfortable leaving you out of their sight?”

“I can fend for myself too,” he says, eyes set on his phone. He seems to like to add your name at the end of his sentences.

“Can I play for a bit?” you ask, extending your hand. He hesitates, briefly glancing at you as if to confirm you're not taking the piss, down at his phone, and back at you.

His phone is big enough to feel like a console, and there's a very on-brand crack on the left corner that he warns can cut you. It gets him a side eye that he reacts to with a careless shrug.

You haven’t played any games in years or downloaded any since the younger members of your family grew out of the age where they came as useful, but you recognize this one from ads you’ve seen on Instagram.

It doesn’t take any experience to figure out that you’re supposed to manage some kind of orthogonal kingdom. There’s a castle and a medieval-style village surrounded by a tall wall, with full crops around. You tap around, collect coins here and there, zoom in and zoom out under his close watch. Every time you tap a building without a full green bar, a few options show up, you bite your lip to hold back a smile and hit the red X on the right corner of what looks like a church.

“Hey–”

He’s snatching his phone out of your hands before you can pretend to be sorry.

“Fuck you’d do that for?”

You don’t know why, but his annoyance hits you as the most entertaining thing you’ve seen or heard tonight. A grown-ass man next to you sulking because you deleted his little 2D church on his phone. Shoko might think you fucking him would be hilarious, but this, to you, is real comedy.

“What? You religious or something?” You doubt he is, given his controversies and taunting the satanic-panic crowd. He also happens to look like god left the room the moment he was born.

Toji shakes his head, not as an answer but to reiterate that you’ve pissed him off. A laugh full of mirth bubbles out of you. He’s tapping aggressively, filling up the blank spot with a smaller version of the building, and sucks on his teeth again, disappointed at how pathetic it looks around all his leveled-up properties.

“Did something happen to you as a child, maybe?” You inquire.

“What?” he gruffly responds, offering you an irritated glance. He’s kind of cute like this, frustration looks like a foreign emotion for a man like him.

“Are you diagnosed?”

He does a double-take again.

“Is that offensive to you?” you tease, struggling to contain your amusement at the situation. "Sorry, I know your generation isn't that comfortable discussing mental health."

“See, I might be socially stunted, yeah–” he gruffs after staying quiet for a bit, finally putting his phone inside his back pocket. You lift your eyebrows, eager to see where he’s going with this. “I can agree with that. But you rich kids–”

“Oh, us rich kids?” you gasp softly, not expecting that turn, you bite your lower lip to stop yourself from laughing out loud as he’s not done with his sudden rant. You’re fucking tickled.

He shakes a thick finger in your direction. “–You’re fucking uncomfortable to be around, you know? It makes you think that maybe bullying exists for a reason. They don’t rough the bunch of you nearly enough at those expensive private schools, do they?”

“Dude, I hate to break it to you, but you are a rich kid inside a grown man’s body.” He rolls his green eyes at you until all you see is white, thick eyelashes fluttering.

“Oh, I see. No, I get it. You’re self-made and I’m nepo trash. A spoiled little bitch with a bad attitude who’s never been taught a lesson, is that it?”

Animosity radiates out of him. He flattens his palms on the wood surface behind him and clenches his jaw, shaking his head like he’s not even going to try to reason with you.

“You wanted to hatefuck her but then she ruined your game and made you feel uncomfortable, and now the chase isn’t fun anymore.”

“Nah, you’ve got it wrong there, sweetheart. I don’t put people in such one-dimensional boxes.”

“No?”

He scratches the side of his nose before elaborating.

“Spoiled little bitch, yeah. But you’re a hard worker. And stubborn, too. You’ve been paving your own way, working real hard to traumatize daddy back, haven’t you? You run on pure spite, eh?”

“Fuck off.” you scoff, throwing back what’s left of your drink.

“And– get this,” eyes now glazed with a cruel glint, he leans in closer like he's about to share a secret, and peers down at your chest when you do the same “He’s the crowned king of our country’s conservative media, he’s also old as fuck, so that can only mean that he’s a raging homophobe on top of, you know? Violently misogynistic. You and your brother got your therapist's pockets nice and full, paid off a few nice vacations to hawaii, probably bought a big beach house for her.”

He stops and cocks his head, like realization just landed on him.

“But you, you’re weaponizing the fuck out of him. Christmas at the Gojos's a fucking nightmare for your poor little fiance, but you have your fun, don’t you?”

Just a few minutes ago, you’d been savoring the signs of irritation in his body language, mind running wild with all the ways you could make him tick, but now you want to punch him in the throat. Just bury your fist right there in that v-shaped Adam's apple of his.

“You’re cold-hearted for that, sweets. You know you are.” he accuses half-heartedly, the wicked glint in his eyes hinting that he's trying to strike a chord. “Tell me, does he prepare his social justice speeches beforehand or does he just sit there next to you, quiet and pretty and eats his dessert?”

“Don’t talk about my family, asshole.” You lick the inside of your cheek, but you know the strung tone of your voice will only egg him on.

“Why not? You’re on the news every day. Everyone talks about you.”

Usually, when it comes to your family, you’ve got thick fucking skin. You’re aware of the stain and privilege of your last name. The advantages you’ve had and people claim you don’t deserve. The fact that you’re the living consequence of your father cheating on Satoru’s mother.

Most of the things they say about your father and his monster of a corporation you can agree with, but you keep your head high and your thoughts to yourself and stick to sharing looks with Suguru when it gets particularly nasty between your brother and your father in family gatherings.

“He’s been causing quite the stir, hasn’t he? Your brother. If Alzheimer’s doesn’t do it, he might be the one to finally send your old man to the grave.”

But you don’t fuck around when it comes to Satoru.

You’re propping yourself up on your wrist and lifting your leg when his hand comes to your bare knee, stopping you from attempting to stand up and walk away. His grip is surprisingly gentle, though the tips of his fingers touching the back of your knees do send the message. It’s like he can’t let you forget how much smaller you are in comparison to him.

“Whoa, easy. I’m just playing with you.”

You blink down at him, face set, hoping to deliver the message that you might push him into the water if he fucks around any further.

“I have plenty of family baggage for you to hit me back with, have at it.” he adds, almost kindly.

You remember Naoya Zenin with tears running down his face. If you had to bet on it, you’d say that making Toji Fushiguro cry would single-handedly give you bragging rights over Satoru for the rest of your lives.

He hums when you sit again. “Go on, get as creative as you want.”

“I doubt you even have a family.” you bite “God knows what Zenin lab near Fukushima you escaped from."

“Weak but creative, I’ll give a tick for that. So, what I’m getting here is that you get along with him, then.”

You frown, confused.

“You couldn’t pretend to give a shit when I mentioned the fiancé, but you looked like you would’ve blown my brains if you had a gun on you the second I brought your brother up.”

He sounds suspiciously genuine. You don’t feel like elaborating.

“I know him,” he mentions offhandedly, leaning back. “Flashy cottonhead prick, doesn’t like me very much.”

“Can’t imagine why, enchanting as you are.”

“Probably gonna like me a lot less after this.” he reasons, more to himself.

He turns to you before you can dwell on what he means by that. “So, you’re two peas in a pod then? You and him?”

“I don’t see him that often.” you think out loud, your dinner plans fell through after a sudden change in his schedule. “He’s on some getaway in Osaka, performing some corporate sacrificial ritual.”

“And you’re too cool to involve yourself in such bland, boring affairs.”

You’ve had a bad feeling since your father announced he’ll be stepping down from his position. With the board and investors spiraling and Satoru suspiciously playing your father’s game, you see havoc brewing in the future; your father closing his fist around his leashes, children crying, kittens separated from their mothers and blood spilled on the floor.

And you want none of it.

“I’m an outsider. You don’t need me to explain how it goes, do you?”

He nods at you like he’d tip his drink at you if he had one, deep in thought.

You prop yourself up on your wrist and bring a leg up to rest your feet on the rough wood, inadvertently knocking over your empty glass. You both watch as it tumbles, rolling in a circular path until it meets the edge and drops out of sight, vanishing beneath in the inky water, as if it never existed.

“Water looks nice.” he says.

You hum uncommittedly.

“Wanna take a dip?”

His eyes are already on you when you look up at him. There’s not nearly enough alcohol in you to ignore the distance between you, or the lecherous dip under the friendly, harmless veneer. You wonder what triggered this change so abruptly.

You gaze down at your attire, a deconstructed, stretchy fabric ensemble unsuitable for water activities.

"No, but you can go ahead. I'll watch from here and look the other way if you start to drown."

He dips his head slightly, his frown implying you're a buzzkill. "Come on. You've never gone skinny-dipping?"

“That’s a very lame attempt to get me naked.”

He points at the party with a tilt of his head

“No one’s gonna see you. I will, but I’ll behave, 'cause you’ve had a rough night” The vague fucker carries on again before you can ask what he means by that. “I didn’t think you’d be this shy.”

“And I don’t think Haibara knows he’s friends with an old man that likes to creep on girls a decade younger.” you retort.

He's momentarily silent, and you believe he's finally relented.

Yet, he hooks a finger beneath a thin strap of your top that slipped down your shoulder at some point, deftly guiding it back into place. His nail barely grazes your skin, causing a shiver to course through you. He grins wolfishly, his eyes locked onto yours, darkness flickering from beneath his lowered lashes, tantalizing.

“Like you’re some innocent little lamb who doesn’t know better? I don’t buy it.” he mocks you, voice dangerously dropping. “Your cover’s blown, sweets. I see you. You’re a lot darker than you look.”

“You think so?”

“Mhm. You’re a little fucked up, ain’t ya? Got some real violent impulses tucked in there.”

That’s rich, coming from him.

"So perhaps you should tread lightly around me."

“I don’t mind.” he says succinctly like you didn’t just witness the black completely eclipsing the green of his eyes. “Tell you what, you’re more than welcome not to hold back around me. Consider me your safe space. Let it all out, you sure look like you need it.”

“How kind of you.” you croon, he blinks, slow and warm for you, lashes coming to rest on the sinking blue-tinted skin of his under eyes.

“You wanna go back and do drugs, Toji?”

The sea roars, a particularly violent wave crashing under you. He looks over his shoulder like he’s thinking of it.

“With your friends?” His tone is derogatory at the last word, unaffected, but you have a theory that if you were to put your hand on his chest, the rhythm of his heart would tell a different tale.

Cute. He’s cute. You want to chew him up.

He hit the spot about you not being the lamb, but another thing entirely. The thought makes you want to laugh in his face, but instead, you smile and pop a dimple, swinging your feet and imagining yourself dropping a handful of rice in front of him.

“No. Just you and me.”

#toji fanfiction #toji x reader #toji smut #fushiguro toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfiction #toji fushiguro

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torahoes · 5 months ago

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(IDOLiSH7) Haruka Isumi - An Idol's Daily Life Rabbit Chat: Part 1 - "kome up with"

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Please note that I am not a professional translator. If you come across any mistakes, feel free to let me know and I will make the necessary corrections.

Haruka Isumi: Takanashi-san, good work today.

Haruka Isumi: Are you with Yotsuba right now? He hasn't read my text on Rabbit Chat yet

Tsumugi Takanashi: Isumi-san, good work today!

Tsumugi Takanashi: I'm not with him at the moment. He's currently doing a magazine photoshoot with Iori-san, so he might not be able to check Rabbit Chat for a while...!

Haruka Isumi: Ah

Haruka Isumi: So that's why Izumi hasn't read my text either

Tsumugi Takanashi: Was there something you wanted to tell them?

Haruka Isumi: I accidentally took Yotsuba's vocabulary book home with me, and I was wondering what to do. We have a test coming up, so I should probably return it soon

Tsumugi Takanashi: Ah! The English vocabulary test, right? I heard you all studied together for it after school.

Haruka Isumi: Yup. Yotsuba was panicking, so I helped him make the vocabulary book

Haruka Isumi: But the fact that he hasn't noticed it's with me tells me he didn't try to review it yesterday lmao

Tsumugi Takanashi: He mentioned this morning that he gave in to his temptation to watch a TV show and couldn't study… > <

Tsumugi Takanashi: Should I inform him about the vocabulary book?

Haruka Isumi: Nah, it's fine. He'll probably read it after the shoot

Haruka Isumi: I did think of taking it to the dorm right now if it was urgent since I have some free time

Haruka Isumi: But I'll just give it to him at school tomorrow

Tsumugi Takanashi: Sorry for the trouble and thank you!

Tsumugi Takanashi:

Haruka Isumi: By the way, Yotsuba misspelled a word lmao

Haruka Isumi: "kome up with"

Haruka Isumi: So funny

Tsumugi Takanashi: "come" turned into "kome"... > <

Haruka Isumi: And to top it off, he drew a character next to it that looks like a rice grain [1] lmaoo

Haruka Isumi: It's kinda got a relaxed face

Tsumugi Takanashi: Tamaki-san is good at drawing!

Tsumugi Takanashi: He's always doodling King Pudding sketches in the corners of his scripts; they're adorable...!

Tsumugi Takanashi:

Haruka Isumi: Yeah, he is pretty good

Haruka Isumi: Though everything he draws is kinda round.

Haruka Isumi: I'll write down the correct spelling next to the rice grain

Tsumugi Takanashi: Thank you very much!

Tsumugi Takanashi: Speaking of which, I heard your seats recently changed, and now you're sitting closer to each other.

Tsumugi Takanashi: I also heard you always wake up Tamaki-san when he's sleeping during class while you're distributing handouts...!

Haruka Isumi: Seriously, that guy falls asleep during class all the time

Haruka Isumi: Especially on days when we have classical literature in the fifth period; he's out cold

Tsumugi Takanashi: I wonder if it's because he gets sleepy after having lunch... > <

Haruka Isumi: That's probably part of it, but our classical literature teacher is a sweet old lady who speaks super softly

Haruka Isumi: I get drowsy too, so I understand

Tsumugi Takanashi: When a teacher has a soothing way of speaking, it does make you sleepy...

Haruka Isumi: What did you used to do when you were sleepy during class, Takanashi-san?

Tsumugi Takanashi: I would intentionally drop my eraser and pick it up, just to stretch my body a bit...!

Haruka Isumi: What if it rolled in a weird direction? Wouldn't that make you stand out more

Tsumugi Takanashi: There's a trick to making it roll to a good spot!

Haruka Isumi: What? lmaoo what kind of trick is that lol

Haruka Isumi: But yeah, moving around does help wake you up. I also do stuff like taking off my jacket or rolling up my sleeves to cool down

Tsumugi Takanashi: It must be even more exhausting for you all, considering you also have work… > <

Haruka Isumi: But if you're going to school anyway, it's better to just listen to the classes so you don't have to do any reviewing later. Plus, it saves you from last-minute studying before tests

Tsumugi Takanashi: That's impressive, especially with how busy you are!

Tsumugi Takanashi: I heard you occasionally even pack your own lunchbox.

Haruka Isumi: Yotsuba and Izumi talk about stuff like that too, huh? Lol. Only sometimes, when I don't have work

Haruka Isumi: I just pack what my grandma's already cooked or use frozen food, so it's not that big of a deal

Tsumugi Takanashi: That's more than enough...!

Haruka Isumi: It'd be nice if I could quickly whip up something with whatever's in the fridge

Haruka Isumi: But I don't have that kind of repertoire at all

Tsumugi Takanashi: Would you like me to recommend a recipe app?

Tsumugi Takanashi: I use it too, and it's very convenient because it suggests meals based on the ingredients you have in your fridge!

Haruka Isumi: There's an app like that!?

Haruka Isumi: I kinda want to check it out

Tsumugi Takanashi: I'll send you the link later!

End of Part 1.

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

[1] Tamaki made a drawing of a rice grain because "kome" (米) means rice in Japanese.

#idolish7 translation #zool #idolish7 #ainana #i7 #id7 #rabbitchat #rabbit chat #haruka isumi #isumi haruka #i7 translation

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paraliveimaginesblog · 4 months ago

Note

Hai, Baby~ 💐

I really Adore your story✨, so... if you don't mind if I can request a headcannon for Saimon, chisei,haruomi, ryoga ,iori,Satsuki ito, Yohei and Toma With Fem MC who is a model and feels that someone is following her but she chooses not to tell them.And ends with them calming the Fem reader with cuddles, kisses (whatever it is, I'll leave it to you 🙏🥲)

Thank you so much my darling, I love you and your blog ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️💋💋

(Max is 5 chars per ask, and I don't write Buraikan, sorry love! But I'll do all that isn't them, please just read the rules in the future thank you~)

Iori Suiseki:

Iori’s reaction is calm, nodding his head as you confided the details of your fears to him. It wasn’t unusual for someone striking like you to attract unwanted attention, but it didn’t mean you had to take it sitting down. He thanked you for telling him before it reached a point of no return, holding your hands in his and placing gentle kisses along your hand as he reassured you he’d keep you safe. He sends Zen out to investigate a little further on your stalker, finding out many personal details (as well as personally escorting you from your jobs from this point on) so you wouldn’t be bothered further.

Naoakira Saimon:

Saimon listens to you without interruption, the serious look on his face one you’re not used to. You’d seen a wide range of emotions from your boyfriend but you could see something pained in his eyes, like he was feeling guilty for not being able to read your mind. He pulled you into his arms, hand rubbing your back in slow, deliberate motions to help you calm down. He’s not upset with you as this was a scary situation all around but he didn’t want you traveling alone, saying he’d take time off if he had to or he’d send Yohei with you to keep an eye out. Your safety comes above all.

Ryoga Tosa:

Ryoga has been on his best behavior, a requirement to not get thrown behind bars again, but he felt that itch of violence eating away at him when you came to him in tears one day. He’s not happy that you felt the need to hide it from him, potentially because you knew what his reaction might be, but he thought he probably deserved it since he had failed in the past in that regard. He asked if you wanted him to be a personal bodyguard, not touching the person but showing up with a threatening aura (it came naturally to him). He wrapped an arm around you and pressed kisses to the top of your head as you clung to him, knowing he wouldn’t regret it if he had to use his fists to keep you safe (though he’d try to avoid it).

Satsuki Ito:

Satsuki does his best not to get worked up but to know some creep had been closely following you, and that he could’ve hurt you without Satsuki even knowing—it was just an affront to his manhood! You should let him protect you! Your teary eyes quickly dim his fire and he goes back into comforting you, apologizing for his outburst as he just wanted to keep you safe and happy. He does offer to escort you around from now on, promising not to make a scene if the person appeared but he would be flashing his muscles to let them know to back off unless they wanted real problems.

Toma Hikage:

Toma can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been for you, knowing exactly what it’s like to have fans who don’t understand boundaries. He had to ask if the creep had hurt you or done anything else, frowning as you tell him all the incidents that had occurred this far. He lets you know a few options to keep yourself safe, including you defending yourself or having a bodyguard assigned to you. He held your hand through the conversation, thumb soothingly stroking the back of your hand as he told you that this horrible moment would be a distant memory soon.

Yohei Kanbayashi:

Yohei tried hard not to be irritated with you, wanting to know why you thought that was something you should’ve kept from him. You could’ve been hurt! You can’t trust people, especially in your profession as you were seen as a trophy. He let out a deep sigh when you started to get more upset, stubbing out his cigarette and ushering you to come closer. He wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug, his way of saying sorry while also reminding you that he’s strong enough to keep you both safe. This isn’t something he’ll be turning a blind eye to but he’s relieved that you finally confided in him.

#Paradox Live #Paralive #Paradox Live x Reader #Paralive x Reader #Paradox Live Imagines #Paralive Imagines #Iori Suiseki #Ryoga Tosa #Yohei Kanbayashi #Satsuki Ito #Toma Hikage #Naoakira Saimon #Iori Suiseki x Reader #Ryoga Tosa x Reader #Yohei Kanbayashi x Reader #Satsuki Ito x Reader #Toma Hikage x Reader #Naoakira Saimon x Reader

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seventeenlovesthree · 5 months ago

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Digi Dynamic Shipping Game

Send me two names among the following 12 and I’ll write a short analysis post about them:

Whether canon provides input on them or not.

Unfortunately I didn't make it before the end of Pride Month, but - while there are a lot of potentially queer ships in the subtext of the Digimon universe that fit the tone, there aren't as many of them that came this close to technically being confirmed as having a valid (canon) baseline as this one.

To ask if canon provides input on Daisuke and Ken - or Daiken, Kensuke, Daisuken, however you want to call them -, is, once again, like asking if water is wet; they're the most elaborated relationship in the entirety of Digimon Adventure 02, the majority of Ken's development is tied to his bond to Daisuke... If you want to read more about why I value their relationship so much, I definitely recommend this post here, because they're just... Endlessly fascinating to me.

The good-hearted goofball with self-esteem issues that lead him to play a role to impress others initially - meets a corrupted genius and literally slaps the darkness out of his system. They turn from fated rivals to fated partners, facing the powers of darkness together and eventually, they become better people in the process thanks to one another. Daisuke's entire priority system changes upon wanting to give Ken a chance, he not only becomes more honest and less defensive, but also lets his personal sense of courage and friendship shine through; Ken, who's initially reluctant to take the hand Daisuke is offering him due to all the guilt he feels, slowly but steadily becomes the kind and gentle soul that was always within him, because there is someone by his side who has his back. Always.

It's a beautiful story of two complementing souls, whose bond enables the first real Jogress evolution, despite the fact - or even because - they couldn't be any more different. It's a story of repentance, forgiveness, learning to befriend others despite your own trauma and differences - and the story of a romantic subtext that almost hits you in the face if you're not careful enough. There is a reason why the screenshot above exists - the most recent movie literally acknowledged that, even after all these years, the bond between Daiken has not vanished and has, instead, gained a somewhat (actively) flirtatious nuance. While it used to be Ken who blushed due to Daisuke's (oftentimes oblivious) bluntness, the same Ken is now forward enough to openly praise Daisuke in ways that make it impossible to overlook the potential implications here - well, for anybody who isn't Daisuke himself at least...

Whether I think why and how they’d work.

Given the circumstances that we're, unfortunately, not talking about a canonically confirmed ship, we just gotta pretend that there will be a day when Ken's attempts of asking Daisuke out will be answered in two potential ways: 1.) "Huh? YOU WERE FLIRTING WITH ME THE ENTIRE TIME????" or 2.) "Huh? I thought we were together this entire time anyway???" Because both of these would be somewhat plausible "Daisuk-esque" reactions in my opinion.

I thoroughly believe that these two would work out romantically in fantastic ways - even though it'd take a lot of work, but which relationship that intends to last doesn't? They both chose careers that require enormous amounts of time and energy - and very irregular working hours. Granted, the latter applies to the majority of the Chosen Children, but an aspiring chef of his own Ramen cart may only be able to see an aspiring police officer if the latter's break time allows him to grab a meal at a Ramen facility that is coincidentally very close by... Gate hopping may have made that a lot easier, but at this point, we don't even know if that is still a thing anymore.

I still maintain that, as much as they'd be married to their jobs, they both still have quite a romantic side to themselves once the curse is broken - so they would make time, just like they did throughout all these years. While their interests in general might also be quite different, they would always find a way to bond over their mutual love for sports, football in particular. Ken needs someone who pulls him out of his head - and Daisuke needs someone who grounds him, which, as The Beginning suggested, is (basically) exactly their dynamic. They always enjoy group gatherings with their friend groups, food tastings are always a reason for Daisuke to invite everybody over - especially to lure Ken away from work. And let's be real, I can also see them go on cheesy dates - that mostly consist of them doing sporting activities (any kind of ball sport, rollerskating, hiking) where Daisuke can (pretend to) be competitive and Ken knowingly plays along with the teasing, just so they have an excuse to be close. Because they'd be cheesy like that, oh Lord, they'd be so cheesy in the most wanna-be-bro way possible.

Whether I’d prefer them as platonic or romantic ship.

In a universe in which Miyaken doesn't become canon, there is literally no reason for Daiken not to be endgame - unless the writers actually had some guts and turned them into an official OT3 in The Beginning. Of course I can always enjoys them as just platonic life partners, bros 4 life, you don't even have to give it a label, as long as they remain as close as they are. Because they simply belong together, one way or another.

#daiken #kensuke #daisuken #my two cents #shipping game #meta #daisuke motomiya #ken ichijouji #davis motomiya #the beginning spoilers

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vagabond-umlaut · 1 year ago

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Fall Versus Foliage

Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader; Geto Suguru Makes His Debut; Takes Place Between Star Plasma Vessel Incident & Death Of Haibara; Fluff, Very Little Angst, Humor & Drama!! Contains Spoilers. Canon-Compliant. [Geto's Already Spiralling Here.] [I Hate Canon.]

Oneshot From Series: One Day, Three Autumns

Your Best Friend is Gojo. Gojo's Best Friend is Geto. Your Mortal Enemy is Geto.

"Oi, you six-eyed cellar spider! Where the fuck you hidin', huh?"

Wrenching the shoji door open, you charge onto the backyard of your home, wading through the tall grasses overcrowding your so precious lawn. Somewhere from behind, someone calls your name in an overly frantic tone— paying them no attention, you proceed forwards, wrath coursing through your arteries and veins– colouring your vision with a furious shade of red.

Honestly speaking, this isn't how you envisioned your weekend going. You were under the impression you might be able to get some indeed very much needed rest these two days— maybe with some fun too in the mix, given how you invited your friends to this tucked away home you've in the countryside.

Then again, you never envisioned someone gobbling your Neapolitan ice cream– the entirety of it– did you, now?

"Hey, Gojo," you holler once again, eyes roaming in search of the bane of your existence, when you suddenly stop at the sight before, only to increase the speed of your attack within the next instant. "Oi, Satoru!" you yell, clenching then relaxing your fists as you march towards that messy mop of white hair partly obscured by the tree trunk its owner's leaning against, "You gone deaf or— huhhh? What the fuck is this??"

Were anyone from your family there right now, you'd have received an earful for such a horrendously unladylike language— you shove every thought of your stick-in-the-mud family members out your mind into the lake nearby, opting to focus on the masterpiece before instead.

Though you're much too unsure, which of them two the masterpiece is.

Must it be the striking painting staring back at you, the woman's eyes carrying fondness yet mystery in their depths while her lips curve in a visibly coy smile, sweet yet cryptic?

Or must it be the striking painter snoozing beside his work, tiny quiet snores leaving him while his head lolls to the side, those black shades sitting tad precariously on his nose?

A muted exhale leaving, you force your shoulders to slump down and relax, your hands reaching forwards to carefully pluck his glasses off– only to still and tense up, registering the presence of another person.

Very intolerable. Very obnoxious. Another. Person.

Suguru offers you an easy smile from where he's propped up against the tree beside Satoru's, an open book lying in his lap. You manage a barely civil smile in response, gritting out, "Why the hell are you here, huh? Never took you to be my 'Toru's watch dog... Senpai."

Even if the boy does detect the disrespect in the term of address you throw in as an after-thought, he makes no comment on it– wearing a smile as placid as before, and replying, "Never took these lawns to be out of bounds for me either— but here are we. Thinking things only to be proved wrong later on. Funny little coin—"

"I'm rather good at reading people," you cut him off, eyes narrowed in a glare as your teeth clack against each other in your attempts to rein in your bubbling irritation and rising volume: Satoru's asleep; he must not be disturbed at any and all costs– "and I think Ieiri-senpai prefers your company to Iori-senpai's when she's smoking. Why don't you go, have a smoke with her, yeah? They're in the other wing of the house."

Or, perhaps, in the same wing of the house adjoining these very same gardens— but you don't add that. With the fewest words spoken, you want Suguru to be gone the quickest, the farthest from Satoru— who seems too delicate, too vulnerable, too breakable in such a state— an uncomfortable shiver slithering down your spine on noticing that tiny scar at the back of his neck, you drag your attention away from him— to the second boy watching you: visibly delighted; tangibly intrigued.

You will your annoyance to be doused: your best friend's asleep; 'Toru Must Not Be Disturbed— his best friend leisurely flips over to another page, though his eyes drift to the new page only for a moment before returning to study you— albeit without the sliver of interest his hawk-like gaze always carries when settling on a hapless girl doomed to be his prey for the night— you observe this with an inward sigh of relief.

Be it for you or for Satoru, you never quite like those who try to come between the two of you friends. You suppose, the white-haired boy is not very fond of such folks either. That pathetic boy who tried to give you an equally pathetic rose in your third grade, still carries remnants of the thrashing your friend had given him on hearing your complaint – you know, the white-haired boy is not very fond of such folks either.

Suguru chuckles softly. "You..." he pauses for a little, seemingly in the search for the right words, then resumes, "You're not good in dealing with feelings, are you? Especially not where it concerns people close to you, right?"

It takes you two seconds before the meaning behind his words spring to life. You clench your fists to keep yourself absolutely rooted there, vision growing red yet again.

"Are you trying to tell me what I think you're trying to tell me, Geto?" you query quietly, nails digging deep crescents into the skin of your palms. Suguru's face morphs into an unrushed grin, smug and ugly. You reckon one of your nail's finally broken the skin of your left palm.

The Curse Manipulator shrugs. "That depends on what—"

"Being mean to you isn't me not knowing how to handle my emotions or some shallow shit like that," you cut him off, unclenching your fists and letting the air brush over the red-hot indents in your palm, "Being mean to you is me wanting to be; and you better not be expecting me to change that anytime soon, 'cause I won't–" A barely-heard mumble on kikufuku makes you pause. Throwing a sideways glance at the boy mumbling, you return your focus to the other boy, eyes fixed in a hard stare.

"I hate you and I'm so not the type to be polite with someone, only to bitch about them later on, behind their back— so I'm gonna continue hating you to your face— and I don't care what you might have to say on this, so you better save your breath, yeah?"

A moment of tense silence follows your question, broken not too long after by the black-haired boy's incredulous statement, "I never meant that to refer to myself. I was speaking on your feelings for–" He grows silent suddenly, eyes darting to Satoru for a brief second, before they return to you. Cheshire cat grin back in every bit of its dastardly glory.

"Feelings for someone close to you translates to your hatred for me– hm?" he says, throwing a momentary glance at Satoru yet again, grin unbudged, "You are one very weird girl, you know that?"

"Oh, yeah?" you snap back without missing a beat, "You might not be knowing this— but anger and hatred are equally valid feelings as any other— and regarding the matter of you being someone close to me?" you let out something between a scoff and a sigh, shaking your head, "You're one of the five other faces I see from my age group, at school everyday. Of-fucking-course, you're someone close to me. I'll be kind of upset if— Have you ever been told, your grin is low-key terrifying?"

Your genuine question earns one very hearty laugh from Suguru– it grows tempered soon enough, however, when you pointedly glance at your sleeping friend then shoot the other boy a glare. Sharp. Mad.

The latter smiles at you, shaking his head. "You're really one weird girl —perhaps the weirdest of them all..." he says, wiping a tear away from his eye, shoulders still shaking from his subdued laughter– "However, I can't help but wonder..."

You shift your weight to one foot, the other tapping an impatient tune on the ground as you stuff your hands into your jacket pockets. Smile dimming to grow a touch of honest curiosity, he asks, "You say, anger and hatred are valid emotions, but don't you feel they might burn you from the inside out, consume you and every bit of your life, leave your world in smoke and ash— don't you feel ashamed when you're feeling those? Helpless– miserable when your anger and hatred tears at your insides? Teasing you, taunting you— cursing you?"

It takes you few moments to grasp the entirety of Suguru's question; and when you do, you can't help but feel sorry for him— Though you know better than to offer something as trash as sympathy to another.

Not when it cannot retrieve the lost, resurrect the dead.

Not when it cannot remove the scars– seen and hidden.

Not when it cannot... let your 'Toru sleep without reliving the sight of millions of maggots swarming over him, weak, dying, dying, weak— YouNeedToMakeGetoLeaveNOW—

You fake a yawn, flexing and extending your legs, one at a time.

"Jogging, fencing, complaining, being mean, napping— these are my usual go-to's whenever I feel too overwhelmed by negative emotions," you answer, features made into one of nonchalance then add, almost as a mumbled after-thought, "or when any emotion confuses me too, to be honest. Kicking the wall or the source of your distress helps me too, yeah."

"So... violence is always an option, hm?"

A chuckle moves to fall past your lips— you push it back– misgivings standing where humor should be– when you catch the way Suguru's eyes gleam in the shade granted by the drifting clouds— though that gleam doesn't seem to be gleaming to you. One might accuse you to be unfairly prejudiced against him— but you know you aren't letting a smidgen of those biases tint your vision now.

You know that gleam in his eyes is anything but funny. Anything but light. Anything but good—

The Curse Manipulator rises from his slouch on the ground, sending you another of his easy smiles, though it no longer feels as harmless as it used to, earlier. Your feet move a few steps towards Satoru— in response to your instinct to shield the boy or your desire to be within his comforting aura— you're not very sure, which.

Suguru's smile grows, gaze flitting from his classmate to you. "Thank you for inviting us here. All of us really needed this break after... what happened last year," he says, volume dropping to a whisper, "Thanks a bunch, kid."

You just nod your head in response, fighting the urge to rush to your friend's side— the other boy lets out a muted chuckle, feet moving a couple steps away from you, before he stops and points at the piece of drawing lying before Satoru, held down by a stone paperweight. It is the one you gifted him, many years back at a beach, you recollect.

A tad too tickled statement startles you back to the present.

"Your 'Toru's made his 'sweetness' the subject of that portrait there... think, he fancies her or something?"

Not sparing said portrait a glance, you frown up at him. "But it seems to be of an older woman, Geto. Are you trying to suggest Satoru sees me as someone older than her age?"

"Maybe," he shrugs. You observe him for a moment before looking at the fast asleep boy again— dread and dejection filling every small bit of your body, slow yet so steady—

Satoru sees you as someone much older than your age. Satoru never tells you, he'll be drawing your portrait— but he has told that bastard best friend of his, everything. Said bastard best friend keeps being a hindrance, putting a spoke in your and Satoru's eons old friendship— not to mention those way too disturbing vibes he was giving off some time back— Bloody hell, Satoru also ate your ice cream up, didn't he?

"You seem to be overwhelmed with emotions, kid," the black-haired boy comments, still standing in the same place as he was, watching you attentively with hints of a smirk, "What are you planning to do?"

Honestly? You don't know. You're mad. You want Suguru to leave you two by yourselves for some time. But, you don't know how to— okay, no, wait–

Kicking something never not solves your issues... Besides, all of your friends– yeah, even this bang-haired asshole, keep themselves away whenever you and Satoru fight, so...

Stamping down the glee blooming in your heart, you throw Suguru a very unimpressed glance. "What can one ever expect me to do, eh?"

And that's the last thing you utter, before you stomp right up to your best friend, and ignoring the tiny flicker of regret, deliver a sharp and well-aimed kick to his leg— eliciting a yelp from your poor 'Toru– but, at the same time, kicking your oh-so-splendid plan of protecting your friendship, off as well.

[But, in case this plan fails? Something, the sweet half of yourself is a bit too sure, will happen— Shut the fuck up, you goody-two-shoes!!—

Simple!! You'll buy Satoru three– no, five– tubs of that Neapolitan ice cream. Offer to complete his homework, plus massage his shoulders as an apology for hitting him. And pout at him, trembling lips and big teary eyes and all that jazz, and—

Gojo Satoru will be best friends with his sweetness in no time, again!]

I do not own the characters used. Divider is by @cafekitsune. Please do not plagiarize or translate or repost this. Hope you enjoyed reading this! 😊

Please interact with This Post to be added to the series taglist! ❤️

Masterlist

Satoru calls his future S/O sweetness, but trust me when I say— Suguru's S/O will be the sweetest of them all. Stay tuned for the next oneshot in this series, my loves!!! 🥰

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honorthysalad · 7 months ago

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Well with that whole 1519 European man having encountered something resembling 'Hikaru's insides and also that Nounuki-sama might not be what we think it is, time to reveal my theory that there’s actually a ton of ‘Unukis’ around the world.

I think the Unuki as we know it is a piece of the world’s immune system. That when too many impurities are in one area or there’s a tear in the membrane allowing a spill-over, an Unuki develops/is made somehow to halt the infection and consume the impurities. That’s why ‘Hikaru’ is able to destroy them when normally they can’t be; it’s his whole purpose, and he has other mechanisms in order to draw impurities to him to make them easier to consume.

As we know, before Unuki worship, there was plague and famine in the village which caused a lot of deaths, and Kegare is created by contact with death, disease, childbirth, and menstruation... for some reason. Anyway, that’d explain why there’s just so many here and why something needed to come in to clean it all up.

(the true secret of the abortion pills. if you're not pregnant, you're menstruating, which means more Kegare. maybe they were relevant....)

This may also be why ‘Hikaru’ wants to eat Yoshiki’s soul so badly; he’s reading as an impurity (proven by the fact he’s being rejected by a barrier made to keep them out), and so ‘Hikaru’ wants to take him in and destroy him. ‘Hikaru’ may see him as ‘warm’ but it’s probably in the same way a meal is warm and filling— that’s his food, that’s what he wants to eat.

Only thing I don’t really understand is wish granting, but we only have two instances on record of the Unuki granting wishes, one in a storybook and the Hichi wish. All the rest never got granted no matter how many offerings they brought. However, at the same time, wish granting doesn’t seem specific to the Unuki; Kurebayashi’s husband was able to make Iori’s pokemon stronger so unless he had a GameShark in that closet, there’s something more going on.

And also here’s a collection of an lung macrophages cuz they reminded me of ‘Hikaru’s insides:

And also a picture of a resting vs active B-cell. Once it’s activated, it produces more rough ER and Mitochondria, significantly increasing its size:

Yeah, so I think the Nounuki is just a natural part of the world, kind of meant to keep the supernatural and mundane apart. The special thing about 'Hikaru' is that he's what he is now, not that he was once Nounuki-sama.

Will admit these might just all be inspirations for the Nounuki, and he's still Hell itself, but eh- I like it when things that appeared unexplainable at first turn out to be perfectly natural. what can I say lol? And like when you think of the world as a body and every living thing inside it as a cell, it makes even more sense how impurities infect things. It's not that they're lonely- they need hosts, but also cause those hosts to die. Those tears in the membrane are no different than tears in the skin, opening the body to outside pathogens. Makes you wonder what's naturally fixes them; it can't just be on people like Kurebayashi.

#posting this again because for some reason it didn't appear in the main tags >:(#and if it did then don't tell me I'd rather live in righteous indignation #hikaru ga shinda natsu #the summer hikaru died #hgsn #hgsn spoilers #my hgsn shit

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hurpdurpburps · 2 months ago

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Otherside Picnic Manga Yuri Club Special Story 10 English Translation

SPOILER WARNING: Takes place at the beginning of File 11 - The Whispered Voice Requires Self-Responsibility in Vol 3 of the novels.

Written by: Miyazawa Iori

Translated by: @hurpdurpburps

Chapter 10: Ikebukuro Bookstore, Meet Up

Thanks to the camping boom, I had no trouble finding reference materials. I entered the bookstore where we were supposed to meet, and took the escalator up to the second floor, where a row of camping books and mooks were lined up somewhere prominently. [1] As a matter of fact, there were so many books that I was at a loss.

Fortunately, I’d arrived much earlier than when we supposed to meet, so I had time to lose myself. I settled down at the section and started looking through the selection.

During my recent exploration in the Otherside, I’d realised that I was lacking when it came to outdoor skills, and I felt somewhat compelled to brush up on that. When I tried to burn the yamanoke that Toriko had crushed - or rather, something that resembled a yamanoke in ghost stories - I hadn’t been able to start a fire swiftly. Even though I had waterproof matches, it still took a while for the flame to grow.

Since I was planning on continuing my exploration of the Otherside, it wasn’t a good idea to go on like this. I wanted to have more wilderness survival skills and other more basic outdoor skills under my belt.

I hadn’t picked up much from back when I was still living in my hometown, moving from place to place. The money I’d brought with me from home was enough to scrape by for necessities, and I would sneak into ruins or abandoned houses when I was broke, so I never had the opportunity to live completely outdoors.

I started looking for books that looked decent, focusing on mooks aimed at beginners. Their content didn't seem to be all that different. Ways to make a fire, methods of pitching a tent, camp meals, and information about facilities in various locations. These were regular leisure guidebooks, but they were precisely what I was looking for, so it wasn't a problem. I wished to learn about survival techniques for crisis management, but first I wanted to know how to go about camping normally. We weren’t looking to survive out in the jungle with just a knife, but instead purchase the right equipment and explore with ease.

I picked three books that seemed easy to read and left the area. I looked at my watch and saw that there were five minutes left until our meeting time. Toriko might have already arrived. I wanted to take a look at books on military survival and mountain climbing books as well, but I left that for next time.

I went down to the first floor and looked around the area. Toriko didn't seem to be here yet. Even in a crowded place, Toriko stood out so it was impossible to miss her. I decided to pay first, and headed towards the checkout, when the magazine section caught my eye. I stopped in my tracks when I saw the front page of a fashion magazine with covered in words about fall and winter hairstyles and other stuff.

I hadn’t bothered with my hair for some time and it’d grown out quite a bit before I knew it, and one of my immediate problems was what to do about it.

Even though I had never paid any attention to my hairstyle since the day I was born.

When I was in elementary school, my hair was so short that I was mistaken for a boy. From middle school to high school, I simply let it grow out without any care or concern, and cut it myself when it got in the way. Things at home calmed down during the winter of my second year of high school, but I wondered what happened after that point. I think I went to the local barber once?

When I started university- nah, I think it was before my part-time job interview, I went to a 1,000-yen barber shop and got my hair cut somewhat short, and it had basically stayed the same ever since. When my bangs got in the way, I would visit the barber again. I think that was the extent of how much work I'd done with my hair. I'd never been to a beauty salon. They were expensive, and kind of scary.

I picked up a hair catalogue-like thing from the fashion magazine and started flipping through it.

... ... ... ...

I didn’t get it. Nothing was going into my head.

There were all sorts of hairstyles, but I had absolutely no idea if any of them suited me.

As I flipped through the pages in pure confusion, I started to get increasingly pissed. I felt stupid for fretting over something like this. I closed the magazine, put it back on the shelf, and turned around, just in time to see Toriko enter the store.

It seemed like Toriko noticed me at the same moment. I turned and headed in her direction since she was waving at me.

When we met in front of the corner for new releases, Toriko smiled and said "Sorry, I'm a little late."

"It’s alright, I was looking at books anyways. I'm gonna go pay, wait here for a bit."

"Okie-dokie." [2]

I got a little annoyed at the carefree smile she directed towards me.

Without a clue about how others feel…

Whose fault do you think it is that I’m vexed over something like my hair?

It's you. [3]

Do you get that, Toriko?

TL Notes

General note: I adopted a more 'literary' prose style to match the tone of the novels. Hence, the translation in this series will be significantly more liberal than my usual analytical posts. Feel free to ask me anything. Feedback regarding translation accuracy is also welcome.

Holy guacamole, a bit of an intense trauma lore drop there about her hair... These chapters are getting heavier as we go, ngl.

[1] So, the Japanese here says ムック and I was like wtf is that? Turns out it's a portmanteau of books and magazines that started in France(?) but is now only really used in Japan still.

There's apparently a Wikipedia page on this lmao, which describes the thing as such: A mook is a publication which is physically similar to a magazine but is intended to remain on bookstore shelves for longer periods than traditional magazines, and is a popular format in Japan.

[2] Toriko says "okay" in katakana (オーケイ), which has a more casual vibe than an actual "okay" (which would be something like はい) so I changed it up a bit.

[3] Sorawo uses お前 ("omae") here, which is a brusque version of "you", so the tone here sounds rather resentful lmao.

List of Yuri Club's Otherside Picnic Short Stories [my translations]:

1. Shinjuku, The First Meet-Up (新宿、初めての待ち合わせ)

2. Hasshaku-sama Epilogue (八尺様エピローグ)

3. Ochanomizu, The First Afterparty (お茶の水、初めての打ち上げ)

4. Ikebukuro, Cafe Meal For One (池袋、ひとりカフェ飯)

5. Naha, After The Big Job (那覇、大仕事の後)

6. Ishigaki Island, A Dazed Vacation (石垣島、呆然のリゾート)

7. Mercedes AMG, The Backseat (メルセデスAMG、後部座席)

8. Otherworldly Elevator, On The Way Back (異世界エレベーター、帰路)

9. Kozakura Mansion, Pizza Party (小桜屋敷、ピザパーティー)

10. Ikebukuro Bookstore, Meet Up (池袋の書店、待ち合わせ)

11. Hannou, In The Car From The Station (飯能、駅からの車中)

12. TBD

#otherside picnic #裏世界ピクニック #urasekai picnic #otherside picnic yuri club special story #裏世界ピクニック百合部限定ss

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beginningobserver · 2 months ago

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Community Service Ending pt3 [read pt1 & pt2 before]

[02TB SPOILERS IN THIS SERIES BTW]

So, uh, the idea here was like, Rui loses his eyepatch because he's exhausted from working at TWO places at the same time (one is his regular part-time job at the café -- which is another of my pet headcanons lol -- and the other is him doing community service at a daycare under Hikari's supervision -- she offered to help him, and Iori & Taichi managed to convince the judge to accept that offer? idk, I didn't think that far lol)

And then a kid accidentally finds it and goes to give it back to Rui. Note that I assume that Rui is really trying to get used to not having to wear the eyepatch, so he just has a little panic attack thinking that people will find out his secret. But he quickly remembers, "Oh, right... that eye is gone now..." and calms down. I think he kinda had some panic attacks during the movie (like when he, Daisuke and Ken + Mons witness the baby Rui finding the egg...?), so I was wondering if...

Btw, the decision to use a CERTAIN OC of mine instead of some random kid designed specifically for this is... well, not exactly planned -- but Taisuke is kind of like Rui in wanting his family's attention (at least in his original source/project, DigiTimeLines, but here he's not Taichi's son and definitely NOT from an alternate future, btw), so I think this would be a good opportunity for my gremlin son to meet my favorite sad potato.

I'll put a transcript of the text on Read More, there's a lot to put on the Alt text.

Rui: Sigh-- Having to work on two jobs is hard...

Rui: I wonder how some people can manage that...

※ (He) just had finished his shift at the cafe shop.

Rui: But we have to compensate for those BAD things we had done...

Ukkomon: Rui...

???: HEY, MISTER!!

Rui/Ukko: ?!!

???: You dropped your eyepatch.

Rui: [turns back and sees a kid holding his eyepatch] huh------ AH?!

Rui: [immediately pushes the hair bangs to cover his right eye during, desperately] DON'T LOOK AT ME-- I'M--

Ukkomon: RUI!!

Ukkomon: Rui, take a deep breathe!!

Rui: [pants] Ah... I... I forgot that that digimon eye is gone...

Rui: [turns to the kid, scratches his head] S-sorry. I just forgot that I don't need that anymore.

[hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha] ← he's nervous right now

Kid: ...

Kid: AH! You are the person from the rumors...!

Rui: ...?

Kid: The one who got the first digimon partner in the world...!

Rui: [scratches his head again, looks away] Maybe I'm not the first... I don't even know anymore...

Kid: Ok... But why don't you need the eyepatch anymore?

Rui: [points to his face] Because I don't need to hide my injured eye anymore.

Kid: [frowns] Why would you hide your injured eye, mister?

Rui: [looks down, frowning] Because... I was ashamed of having one.

Kid: There's nothing to same here. Everyone has one or two imperfection in themselves, right?

Rui: The truth is... I was repressing it, thinking I was a weirdo now.

[Kid Rui, covering his right eye with his hand: Stupid Ukkomon, look what you did...]

[Kid Rui, depressive: ...]

Rui: BUT...

Rui: Some people made me realize that all of us are imperfect.

[Daisuke, standing his hand to Rui: So, go talk with him!]

Rui: And I was able to fix a few mistakes I've committed before.

Rui: [scratches his head again, smiles awkwardly] Though, I'm still getting used to those changes, haha...

Rui: So, you're right about it. We all have flaws and we shouldn't try to repress them.

[Kid looks at the eyepatch, quietly]

Ukkomon: Can I have the eyepatch?

Kid: [hands the eyepatch to Ukkomon] Sure, here it go.

Ukkomon: [takes the eyepatch from the boy's hand] Thank you~

Ukkomon: Do you have a digimon?

Kid: Yea, but... It's still hatching...

Kid: [takes the egg from his pocket, shows it to Rui & Ukkomon] And it's smaller than the other Digieggs...

Kid: [serious gaze] But that's ok. I'm sure they will hatch soon!

Kid: Their size is not going to change who they are!!

Kid: Because... [holds it closer to his chest, smiles] I'll love them by who they are.

Rui: ...

Rui: [smiles]

Rui: [In a light sassy tone, leans towards the kid] I bet that digimon will be lucky to have a partner like you then.

Ukkomon: [smiles] Yep, yep.

Kid: [smiles back at them] Hehe~

#digimon adventure 02 the beginning #ohwada lui #ukkomon #02tb spoilers

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justicerikai · 9 months ago

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Charisma House - Superhuman Sharehouse Story “Charisma” - #83 The Tendou Household

Please read alongside listening to the drama track on Youtube.

Let me know if I missed something!

TL note:

Seiza: Japanese sitting position where one sits politely on your knees.

Atami is a place known as a resort town and for its hot springs. The perfect place to cleanse your soul and soak into relaxation. This is also a location in the easter egg ending of AI: The Somnium Files. This part is irrelevant. I like making people read more than necessary.

Everyone: Ahahaha

Sarukawa: …..

Sarukawa: A dream, huh…

Sarukawa: …!

Sarukawa: Where, am I….

Housemaid 1: Ah, Sarukawa-sama!

Sarukawa: !?

Assistant 2: Nakagami-sensei, what’s the report?

Nakagami: Our personnel and budget got cut, and we must refrain from any conspicuous actions for the time being.

Assistant 2: I knew we went too far, even if it was done in the name of capturing the Charismas.

Nakagami: This damned decrepit country prioritizing appearance rather than results.

Torahime: No matter, Torahime will follow Sensei to the depths of hell!

Nakagami: What’s the destination of the Charismas

(Hitting desk sound)

Torahime: Ngagh!

Assistant 3: Please look at this!

Assistant 1: What is it

Assistant 3: This is the house where Tendou Amahiko was born, but isn’t this place…

Assistant 1: !? Don’t tell me… Tendou is…THAT Tendou!?

Assistant 3: The esteemed family behind generations worth of skilled doctors. The kind whose connections run deep in politics and finance.

Assistant 1: Not a chance we’d even come near if this is where they’re hiding…!

Assistant 2: I’m sure the higher ups wouldn’t want any kind of conflict either…!

Assistants: ….! What do we do… To think it’s really….

Nakagami: Do not falter!

Assistants: !?

Nakagami: It’s irrelevant. Whatever the situation at hand may be, we march to capture them.

Nakagami: No matter the risks we must take.

Assistants: ….!

Torahime: Sensei…

(The sound of housemaids moving around)

Sarukawa: ….

Sarukawa: Um… ‘m seriously doin’ fine here, no need to go outta yer way like that now.

Maidservant 1: How preposterous!

Maidservant 1: Such considerate arrangements are a given when you’re a bosom friend of young master Amahiko!

Sarukawa: We ain’t no chums

Manservant: Sarukawa-samaaaaaa~!

(Sound of running through the corridor, sliding into seiza position)

Manservant: Here, my good sir. Hair wax of the finest caliber in terms of holding power.

Sarukawa: WHA-!?

Manservant: I’m well aware of the peril and life-dangering risks Sarukawa-sama has gone through to keep his hair standing upright, no matter the cost!

Sarukawa: That’s embarrassing! The fuck did you get that from! Who told ya!

Maidservant 2: Sarukawa-samaaaa!

Sarukawa: What’s it this time!

Maidservant 2: It appears that your bosom friends have made their return.

Sarukawa: Eh?

Maidservant 1: Welcome back, Terra-sama!

Terra: Thaaanks~~

Manservant: Welcome, Motohashi-sama!

Iori: Sorry to keep you waiting~

Terra: It sure warmed me all up~

Rikai: Honestly, such a pleasant hot bath.

Iori: Riiight~

Sarukawa: Huh?

Iori: Ah, Saru-chan’s awake! Good morning

Rikai: Looks like you’re fine, what a relief.

Sarukawa: The hell have you guys been up to?

Fumiya: Vacation

Sarukawa: Huh!?? WUH!? EH!? HUEEEEEEEEEEEEEH!!!!!??

The five of them: Huh?

Sarukawa: VACATION?

The five of them: Yea

Sarukawa: While I was knocked out you went on VACATION!?

Terra: To Atami

Sarukawa: NO WAY!

Iori: The hot springs were amazing.

Rikai: Not to mention how beautiful the ocean was.

Sarukawa: WAITwaitwait, you GOTTA be pulling my leg. What the fuck are you idiots doing

Terra: I mean, it’s not like you were able to lift a finger or anything for a while. So we had time to kill in the meantime.

Fumiya: Then I got an idea. Now's the chance! Let’s go to Atami, like that.

Sarukawa: Don’t just get used to this shit!!! Show some concern no matter how many times this happens!!!

Ohse: Sorry, Sarukawa-san. At the very least take this as a souvenir.

Ohse: A drawing I made of Atami’s sea.

Sarukawa: AS IF I NEED THAT!!!!!!

(Sarukawa throwing a tantrum, the others calming him down)

Iori: Calm down, Saru-chan…! There’s a good reason for this!

Sarukawa: Hahn!?

Maidservant 1: Young master Amahiko, her ladyship is…

Amahiko: ….Understood.

Sarukawa: Hah? Ya bailed outta this place?

Fumiya: Yeah

Fumiya: The Tendous are no small-fry

Fumiya: Timing was just right to get away under the guise of you needing rest, but a new problem popped up.

Rikai: The family has been investigating us.

Rikai: What kind of people we are, what our relationship is with their precious son.

Rikai: And it’s not as if I can say that we’re a ragtag bunch of misfits, save for me.

Terra: Why? Nothing’s stopping you

Rikai: Absolutely not! Amahiko-san’s the worst one of all!

Iori: That’s why, Saru-chan, we had to take shelter for a bit.

Iori: A vacation in name only.

Ohse: It was all an act.

Sarukawa: …..

Sarukawa: That’s what’s up, huh

Sarukawa: So, wasn’t like y’all actually went out on a lil’ trip, huh

The five of them: No, we did.

Sarukawa: YOU DID GO!?

(Sarukawa throwing a tantrum, the others calming him down)

Maidservant 2: Everyone?

Four of them: Wuh!

Maidservant 2: Dinner has been arranged.

Four of them: …

Rikai, Ohse, Iori: …….

Rikai: Terrific…

Ohse: Is such a thing really okay…

Iori: …Unbearable---

Rikai, Ohse, Iori: …….

Terra: YUM! I think Terra-kun’s gotta go for seconds

Fumiya: Unfair, Terra, I want too. Excuse meeeeee

(Sound of a small whistle being blown)

Rikai: You two…! Your behaviour…! And how can you two be so unbothered?

Ohse: Where’s Amahiko-san?

Iori: Dunnooo

Rikai: And where did Saru go?

Iori: Drinking his sorrows away alone in his room

Ohsa: Uwah…

Amahiko’s mother: Is it to your liking?

The four of them: Wah!

(Rikai being flustered)

Rikai: Terra-san, Fumiya-san…! Seiza…! Straighten your back and…! C’mon, hurry…!

Amahiko’s mother: My apologies for showing up during your meal.

Four of them: No no not at all, Ma’am

Amahiko’s mother: Once again, I am Amahiko’s mother.

Amahiko’s mother: Thank you for always taking care of my son.

Rikai, Ohse, Iori, Fumiya: No no no it’s us who should say so, don’t mention it at all.

Amahiko’s mother: How do I say… What sort of person is Amahiko you all…

Rikai: …Eh?

Amahiko’s mother: Ah, please excuse my impoliteness.

Amahiko’s mother: He never mentions anything to us.

Amahiko’s mother: Could you kindly tell me about it, if that is alright with you all?

Rikai: …Ah

Amahiko’s mother: What is his occupation at the moment?

Rikai, Ohse, Iori, Fumiya: HUH!?

Amahiko’s mother: Eh?

Rikai: Huh?

Amahiko’s mother: Hm?

Iori: Wha?

Amahiko’s mother: Uh huh?

Ohse: Mhm?

Amahiko’s mother: ?

Fumiya: ?

Amahiko’s mother: Did I ask something I shouldn’t have..?

Terra: Amahiko-san’s job, right? He’s the World Se--

Rikai, Ohse, Iori, Fumiya: @@@@@@@@@@@!!!!!!!!!!!

Amahiko’s mother: Huh? World?

Rikai: Ah, no, ah, uuum, well, you see with world, um, yes world yes, um right ma’am you see, it’s it’s it’s that yes Yes uuum Amahiko-san’s work is world, um, Yes! Basically the world! Amahiko-san goes around the world, doing all kinds of wonderful labor!

Amahiko’s mother: Oh my! That’s overseas then.

Rikai: Exactly!

Amahiko’s mother: And what does he do overseas specifically?

Rikai: EH!?

Terra: Stripping and pole da-…

Rikai, Ohse, Iori, Fumiya: @@@@@@@@@@@!!!!!!!!!!!

Amahiko’s mother: Excuse me?? Stripping????

Rikai: With stripping he means, um, that, that there’s a lot of circumstances surrounding it which Minato Ohse-kun will explain further.

Ohse: Wha-!! You jest, milord!

Rikai: You can do it.

Ohse: …! Um… stripping is like, um, uuuh… poop…? No not poop, absolutely not poop…!

Ohse: …!

Iori: With stripping it’s not meant in the sense of taking off clothes, but stripping yourself of any prejudice towards others.

Amahiko’s mother: Huh

Iori: In other words, Amahiko’s work overseas pertains to helping out any kind of person no matter who they are, isn’t that right, Ohse-san.

Ohse: Yes, exactly that.

Ohse: (IO-KUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Amahiko’s mother: …Some kind of humanitarian aid, then

Iori & Ohse: Yes!

Amahiko’s mother: And what does that include then?

Terra: Asparagus, Assparagus-

Rikai, Ohse, Iori, Fumiya: @@@@@@@@@@@!!!!!!!!!!!

Amahiko’s mother: Asparagus?

Rikai: Amahiko-san developed a new variety of asparagus!

Terra: Bobongalinga---!

Amahiko’s mother: Bobongalinga?

Rikai: Bobongalinga is a region under conflict at the moment.

Rikai: Asparagus is being distributed, free of charge, to the refugees and children in need

Terra: ECSTASYYYYY---!!

Iori: Is what the people feel thanks to the economic benefits from cultivating this new form of asparagus.

Terra: Propagating sexy--

Ohse: Scientists are propagating how to grow this new species of asparagus

Ohse: It’s referred to as the Se-XY method, which involves Selenium and the XY system, in order to grow more

Amahiko’s mother: Oh wow… It's as if he’s performing some kind of liberation campaign overseas.

(Sound of dishes rattling)

Rikai, Ohse, Iori: LIBERATION CAMPAIGN! THAT!

Iori: Just as you say, ma’am

Rikai: Indeed, ma’am, it’s truly praiseworthy.

Ohse: Amahiko-san never fails to impress

Rikai, Ohse, Iori: Ahahaha…hahah…

(Sound of the door sliding open)

Rikai, Ohse, Iori: !?

Sarukawa: ★◎◆∴▽★◎◆∴▽★◎◆∴▽!!!!!!!

Rikai: (Saru!? At this timing!?)

Iori: (He’s awfully drunk!)

(Sarukawa throwing a tantrum, the three of them calming him down)

Sarukawa: I’MMAKILLYA!!!!!!!!

Amahiko’s mother: KILL!?

Fumiya: (Slides in) You’re mistaken, ma’am. He’s speaking a different language

Fumiya: He’s a foreigner

Amahiko’s mother: From what country?

Fumiya: Bobongalinga

Amahiko’s mother: Oh my! This guy is!?

Fumiya: He’s one of the children in need

Fumiya: Tendou-san rescued him, and thus brought him to his own home.

Fumiya: His overwhelming joy led him to have one too many drinks, and is unconsciously speaking in his native language.

Amahiko’s mother: Although he seems to be upset for some reason…

Fumiya: Interpreter Motohashi-kun.

Iori: Yessir!

Iori: “I will never forget Tendou-san’s favor. He’s a good man beyond words.”

Iori: “Which is why, Ma’am, no further inquiry is necessary.”

Iori: “ok I’m going to bed now goodnight.”

Sarukawa: WE GOTTA GO NO MATTER WHAT, TO ATAMI! ATAMIIIII!!!!!!!!!

(Rikai and Ohse bringing Sarukawa away)

Amahiko’s mother: …..

Amahiko’s mother, Rikai, Ohse, Fumiya and Iori: Ahahaha… hahaha

Amahiko’s mother: Hahaha.. (cough, cough)

Amahiko’s mother: Fufu.. sorry.

Amahiko’s mother: Thank you, everyone. Your kindness has put me at ease as his mother.

Amahiko’s mother: He’s working hard in his own way.

Rikai, Ohse, Fumiya and Iori: Aah, yes you know, he’s truly wonderful yes…!

Terra: Hmph

Terra: ….

Ohse: (Terra-san wasn’t the only one who thought so.)

Ohse: (If all of this was okay.)

Ohse: ….?

Ohse: …Amahiko-san?

Ohse: …! That’s…!

Amahiko’s father: How far must you indulge yourself to finally have your satisfaction.

Amahiko’s father: You’re a man of the Tendou family. Any more selfishness will not be forgiven.

Amahiko: …..

Amahiko: ………Duly noted.

Amahiko: Dear father…

Extra TL notes for the TL notes enthusiasts:

There’s a pun with 脱いで (nuide, get nekkid) and 一肌脱いで (hitohadanuide, to pitch in and help). This became stripping.

Iori makes a pun on ecstasy with エクスタ市, read as “ekusuta-shi” with the shi part meaning city. Tried to make a pun like, ecsta city, but ECSTA exists as the European Council for Student Affairs. Pun has been just circumvented by turning into something else, especially considering sexy gets the same treatment with セク市 (pun on セクシー).

#charisma house #charismahouse #ito fumiya #kusanagi rikai #tendou amahiko #terra #motohashi iori #sarukawa kei #minato ohse

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