#-use due to not being able to pronounce ''-chan'' or ''-kun''

[friendlyittechsupport-a]

@jung1eboy // leia rey sneaks up ( unintentionally ) behind donnie, going on tiptoes to look over their shoulder. her head tilted to a side for a better look, the curiosity gleam in her eyes, " what'cha workin' on uncle dee ? "

" GAH ! "

They jump at the sudden sound, before turning to Leia.

" Oh. Hello, chibi-tan. Just working on a small thing for a friend of Aunt Cleo's, " Donnie holds up something that looks a lot like A SPIDER, only robotic. It's limp, and in their other hand, the scientist holds up a remote. " A robot spider. Pret-ty cool, right ? "

[sweetthepotato]

The Final Pillar: Chapter 3: Thanks for the Meal

Disclaimer

Chapter 2

AO3 Link

Chapter Summary

The Nightmare Breathing is reminded of some harsh truths amidst a lively gathering at a local donburi (rice bowl) shop.

Contents

Ricebowls, alert! Some angst. Hints of ObaMitsu.

The Snake Breathing user stared at her with a pinched expression in his two-toned eyes, clearly annoyed at her for some reason. His white snake, Kaburamaru, if she remembered his name correctly, seemed to be of a similar disposition, his red eyes peering at her blandly.

'Kanroji's been calling you over at least four times,' Iguro exhaled, his brows knitted together. 'You will deign us with your presence, won't you, kouhai?'

Looking over the back table, she could spot Rengoku and Kanroji waving her over enthusiastically. The Love Hashira was somewhat dismayed at having -unintentionally, Kagome asserted -been ignored in the last few minutes. Noting the potential death warrant glaring daggers at her, she thought that refusing at this point would be the moral equivalent of stepping on the paws of two very eager puppies.

Stifling a sigh, the girl acquiesced and resigned to her fate of being dragged into an instance requiring social interaction. Picking up her tray, she tiptoed behind the Snake Hashira around the crowded donburi-ya, eventually landing a seat next to Rengoku.

'Good afternoon,' she murmured.

The Flame Hashira's face lit up in response to her greeting, not bothering to pay attention to the brunette's reluctance. 'Kagome-kun!' He boomed, 'A pleasant surprise to see you here, of all places!'

At her curt nod, he sized her up for a few moments. Left eyebrow lifting, he commented, 'I see you managed to fix your haori yesterday, kouhai! It looks like you did a splendid job from what I can see!'

'Eh?? I didn't know you sewed, Kagome-chan!'

Feeling their collective gazes upon her, the brunette resisted the urge to curl up and swallow her whole sense of presence, 'It was due for some repairs, that's all.'

'Indeed, it's quite hard to picture a demon slayer using a style such as "Nightmare Breathing" doing something so domestic,' Iguro followed, flatly, 'To be honest, I don't believe I've even heard of your breathing style before our last meeting. You said it was something you developed?'

Kagome glared at the Snake Hashira as the blunt delivery of his seemed to continue his interrogation of her from the other day. Nodding, she proceeded to pick up the first of her tempura, which, having sat on top of steaming rice for the past few minutes, had started to go soggy.

'Iguro-san, same here!' The pink-haired girl smiled between them both, the dimples at either side of her mouth becoming more pronounced. 'It sounds interesting, so I can't wait to see what it actually is!'

'It's... a new style I had to develop based on my trainer's breathing forms,' she explained, 'While I was able to replicate some of his Illusion Breathing kata, it didn't come as naturally to me within our set timeframe...'

'Like how I created Love Breathing from Flame Breathing! But... I can't say I know much about the Illusion style either, though...'

Iguro's brow raised, 'I'm a similar case. I haven't heard of Illusion Breathing before you mentioned it, Kagome.'

‘Kanroji-kun, Iguro, I've only heard my father talk about it once or twice,' Rengoku supplied, 'From my impression, Illusion Breathing is a rarely practised style, and my family's archives only has a few texts about it.'

Turning his head, he faced his intense gaze upon his new colleague. 'Kagome-kun,' he started, 'Considering how much information is available, it's impressive that you were able to create something new at your age!'

A slap on the back shook Kagome, 'Ah, no, not really...'

Obanai turned his gaze away from Kanroji, and used this opportunity to assess the latest pillar, who was sitting diagonally from him. He, Kanroji and Rengoku often travelled together after meeting at Oyakata-sama's, and he didn't need much to tell that they were already receptive to a new person, if she would even classify, joining their ranks. Their kindness, Kanroji's in particular, was why he enjoyed their company, but he acknowledged that he didn't share the same immunity from speculation as they did.

Kagome sat on the innermost seat, closest to the wall. She already seemed keen to fade away into the background, to his indignation. Judging from her appearance, the Nightmare user's hair was tied up and pinned behind a patchwork bandana. He assumed that the oni mask she'd brought with her was kept somewhere safe in her satchel, as her face was completely bare now they were dining in the donburi shop.

With a pessimism that he had learnt to internalise the worst of, especially in front of his present company, he stifled a sigh at the girl's youthful appearance. He surmised that she would have to be around Tokito's age, if not slightly older, and he mourned the prospect of more demon slayers being promoted at that time in their lives. While hollowed out slightly, the last remains of baby fat clung to the rounds of her cheeks. Her face, though pale, was patterned heavily with brown freckles and looked drier than it ought to be on a healthy human being.

Even if he was obligated to trust Oyakata-same's assertions, he couldn't yet imagine the young girl being ferocious enough against Kibitsuji's forces. This was, especially considering, her weakness to the smell of blood and now her timid behaviour when surrounded by Kanroji and Rengoku, of all people.

Aesthetically speaking, she looked fairly plain and common in comparison to the other hashira, with her half-asleep eyes featuring unremarkable, brown irises. He pondered that, perhaps in hindsight, the garish oni mask was the only thing that made her stand out as a demon slayer.

He was curious, however, about the grey-purple colouring shading the skin underneath her eyes.

Her meal was eaten in almost complete silence, as if the Flame user's praise was too much to process. With the sound of clicking, her chopsticks dug deeply into the rice, grabbing clumps of the grain mixed in with the tempura. She ate her food without much relish, focusing on one item in her set while the miso soup had probably went cold by this stage. As her donburi was finally emptied, her eyes met with Obanai's for a moment, and upon further inspection, he noticed that they were slightly rimmed in red, the veins streaking through the whites.

After a considerable period of silence, Kagome was compelled to speak, 'K-Kanroji-senpai, do you have any plans before your next mission?'

'Huh -me? Hmm... I was thinking of finding a bathhouse at some point, it's been a while since I've been able to relax, and so it'd be good to do something fun in the meantime!'

Bobbing her head in understanding, the Nightmare Hashira picked up her miso soup and sculled the whole serving down. 'I see,' she said, picking up the first slice of pickled radish, 'Taking breaks is quite important after a long mission.'

Rengoku hummed in agreement, tilting his head at the brunette sitting next to him, 'Kagome-kun, are you planning anything fun before your next mission? More sewing, perhaps?'

She shook her head, a half-bitten radish paused between the ends of two chopsticks, 'Just some body conditioning, I suppose. All of this walking around has probably unbalanced my physical strength, and I intend to work through my forms more,' with the sound of crunching, she progressed quickly to the last radish, 'After I check out of my inn, though. There's not much room there for training.'

Pressing her hands together, Kagome expressed a quiet thanks for her meal.

Holding a cup of green tea against his lips, Obanai felt his eyebrows furrow again. While he acknowledged the fact that the Nightmare Hashira seemed to understand her place among the rest of the pillars, there were a lot of things that concerned him about her demeanour.

'Do you have a place in mind?' he asked.

She shrugged in lieu of an answer, but after realising that Obanai was still insisting on a verbal response, stated, 'I usually rely on any wide, unpopulated area. In my travel to this place, I've been able to gather that there is an evergreen forest that surrounds this town, so if it improves the likeliness of being out of everyone's way, I'll probably go there.'

'Kagome-kun,' Rengoku assured her, 'I would be more than honoured to offer my family's estate for training, especially for the sake of our newest hashira!' He clapped onto the space between the girl's shoulders, which the Snake user noticed caused her to stifle a flinch. 'I'm sure Senjuro would be happy to learn some-'

'-Senpai,' she cut off, appearing to clutch at her tea too tightly for Obanai's liking, 'Thank you for offering, but I'm sure my presence there would cause more confusion than the benefits would justify.'

Her initial wariness of the other pillars reminded him too much of his interactions with Tomioka, a thought he would prefer to not be occupied by. The bandaged man shifted, his sense of schadenfreude encouraging him to prolong his questioning of the girl from across him. Placing his cup down on the table, he leant closer to Kagome, his voice intentionally taking up a bland tone, 'Is there anything that you do aside from training?'

In a manner that was telling to him about her untrustworthiness, she stared back at him, her brown eyes hardening against more of his scrutiny. He tapped his fingers along the top of the table in sequence, waiting to see whether the Nightmare Breathing user would crumble under his pressure or not.

'There aren't many things that I like doing, aside from what is asked of me, Iguro-senpai,' she said plainly, choosing to only half-entertain his questioning.

Placing her tea cup upon her lacquered tray, Obanai couldn't help but notice, with a sense of sadistic pleasure, how his junior colleague in all senses of the phrase, trembled under his gaze. However, he was soon torn out of his reverie when she stood up abruptly, her hackles somehow smoothing over without a moment to spare.

Sharing another look with him, he caught onto the well-contained anger within her now bloodshot eyes. He suddenly noticed that her usually brown irises looked more like the colour of well-steeped spiced tea.

Although he could take the time now to dissect his observations, the Snake Hashira deliberately decided to put them to the side for now, in favour of savouring his time with his other colleagues. His eyes slithered back towards Kanroji, his uneasiness soothed over.

'Thank you for the talk, Rengoku-senpai, Kanroji-senpai, Iguro-senpai. With deep regret, I am afraid that I must take my leave, as I believe I'd agreed with the proprietor to check out around this time,' she bowed slightly, 'I look forward to cooperating with you, if our paths ever cross before our next meeting.'

Extracting herself from their company, she returned her tray to the counter at the opposite end of the donburi-ya. The screaming raged in her head in response to Iguro's interrogation, and it took conjuring Shizu's voice to calm down her nerves. She didn't know why, exactly -perhaps to kill one's boredom -but the Snake Hashira was making it difficult to maintain her composure in front of the other pillars.

A provocation was something she should've expected, she realised. As a result, she tried to avoid taking it personally, even though that was likely Iguro's intention.

His coldness wasn't anything new, nor was it anything special, but it exhausted her in a way that killing demons didn't. Rengoku and Kanroji's fast friendliness was a relatively new thing to her, and she might've warmed up towards them if the circumstances allowed for it. In reality, Iguro was more like the cold splash of reality, one that admonished any desire to exist in any place other than what was determined for her.

As she exited, the brunette headed out towards the bookshop she spotted upon arriving in the town.

[miyacreampie]

Lenny sensei's night class has begun!~♡

“Senpai~♡”

synopsis 💭;; Tanaka gets jealous bc some bitch talking to his man.

note 🖋️;; IT TOOK A WHOLE FUCKIN WEEK TO WRITE THIS. WHY DOES WORK ALWAYS PREVENT ME FROM DOING THE THINGS I LIKE? WHAT THE ACTUAL FU- by the way, ‘Isayama Misaki’ is based off of some asswipe I used to know- also, I ran out of ideas at the end, so it kinda cuts of lf at the good part. I apologize to the anon that requested this.

Requested by anon ♡

Male pronouns used

Tanaka wasn't a jealous man. Or at least he'd like to think so.

(Y/n) was pretty popular around campus, so it wasn't a surprise to see a few fangirls here or there. It kinda reminded him of Oikawa—except (Y/n) didn't exactly pay his fangirls any attention. (And he didn't have an ass as flat as printer paper.) But did that stop them from trying to get into his pants? No.

In all honesty, Ryu felt lucky that he had someone like (Y/n) as a boyfriend, although he didn't like the fangirls—who paid him no mind whenever they were together. It annoyed him that they kept surrounding (Y/n) who clearly wanted nothing to do with them, begging him for dates, one night stands, anything.

To say that Tanaka was mildly uncomfortable was an understatement.

🌇🌇

Today was a bit different. Instead of a crowd of women rushing towards (Y/n), it was just one—; Misaki Isayama. The woman (almost) every guy considered perfect. This was...manageable, but what did she want? Well—at least it was only one girl. He had only woken up a little over an hour ago, and wasn't exactly ready for his simps just yet.

“(L/n)-chan, can you help me study for the science exam that's coming up?”

“Just because you're my upperclassman, doesn't mean you can call me that.” (Y/n) said quietly, rubbing his eyes, then yawning. “I'm on my way to the lecture hall though, so maybe after that? I should be fully awake by then..”

Misaki smiled and nodded her head. “It's a date!”

“No. No it's not.”

🏙️🏙️

Tanaka let (Y/n) lean on him during the lecture. That turned into one sided cuddling from the sleepy man. Ryu thought it was cute how (Y/n) always clung to him when he was sleepy. He was a little sad when (Y/n) fully awoke, and let him go, but it was for the best.

“Oh, Ryu-san. I'm tutoring the rumored ‘perfect woman’, and it's gonna be awkward with just the two of us, so can y—”

“You headin to the library? I was on my way there anyway. I'll join ya.”

The (h/c) haired man nodded, and they both walked all the way to the other side of the schoolyard to the library building. Tanaka even held (Y/n)'s hand to flex on the girls they passed by. Some of the girls were noticeably annoyed or a little angry, which pleased him.

When they finally arrived, Misaki was standing by the door. Upon seeing Ryu, she scowled. But it was only for a second.

“Ah, (L/n)-kun..who's this?”

(Y/n) smiled, oblivious to Misaki and Tanaka glaring at each other. Needless to say, the intense atmosphere went right over his head. “This is my boyfriend..Tanaka. He'll be joining us if that's okay.”

“‘Perfect woman’ my ass..the only ‘perfect woman’ I know is Kiyoko-san.” Tanaka mumbled under his breath. (Y/n) may not have known, but Misaki and Tanaka were always competitive with each other. Other times he wouldn't have cared, but now that (Y/n) is what he's fighting for, he wasn't gonna back down.

“Oh, it's fine.” Misaki said through gritted teeth.

🏙️🏙️

Isayama and Tanaka were left sitting at a table alone, while (Y/n) searched for the science books. They sat in complete silence, but it was almost as if you could hear their thoughts—mentally arguing with one another.

(Y/n) returned with three books, seating himself between Isayama and Ryu. “Okay! Let's get started!”

***

As (Y/n) went on explaining the laws of physics (because Tetsurou used to tutor him), Misaki and Tanaka continued their epic staring battle. The battle ended once they noticed that (Y/n) had stopped talking. He was chewing his tongue in thought, trying to figure out how to pronounce a word.

Misaki didn't notice, but (Y/n) had gone from physics, to microbiology. In less than five minutes.

“Something wrong?”

“How do you say this word again..?” The (e/c) eyed man pointed to a bolded word in the textbook, leaning back a bit so the other two could see.

A suffocating silence reigned over the three of them, but only for about three seconds.

Isayama squinted a bit before she spoke. “Endothelial?”

“Oh yeah. Thanks, senpai.”

Isayama smiled smugly at Ryuunosuke. The said man had a visible tick mark (💢) on the side of his head, symbolizing his annoyance. Tanaka only wanted (Y/n) to call him ‘senpai’—even if they were the same age (if not, then (Y/n) might be older). It made him feel like he was a dependable upperclassman, maybe even a bit turned on in certain situations. But hearing (Y/n) call someone else senpai..made him a little sad.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone vibrating. As Tanaka reached into his pocket to get his phone, he caught (Y/n) putting his own phone in his jacket pocket. Tanaka turned on his phone to see a message from (Y/n) in his recent notifications.

Pretty boy💖: Go to the bathroom. I'll join you later.

Although he was a bit confused, he got up from his chair. “‘M gonna go take a leak.” Ryu said as he started to make his way towards the men's restroom.

Almost five minutes pass before (Y/n) goes into the bathroom after Tanaka, telling Misaki that he was checking on him. As soon as (Y/n) had passed the first bathroom stall, he was yanked into the second one, the door locking almost immediately after it shut behind him. He wasn't given any time to react before he felt a familiar pair of soft lips violently smash against his own. (Not violent enough to make his mouth bleed or anything. Chill.)

A heated battle for dominance arose between the two, (Y/n) quickly taking the lead as he gently bit Ryu's lip.

They didn't want this to end, but eventually Tanaka had to break the kiss because he couldn't breathe. He stood there, breathless in his boyfriend's arms, not wanting (Y/n) to let go.

“Ryuunosuke..” Tanaka flinched upon his first name being said—even though (Y/n) said it many times before. His reaction brought a smile to (Y/n)'s face. “I love you~..” He said, drawing out the three words in a sing-song voice.

Ryu felt his legs getting weak, and held onto (Y/n) for dear life. (Somewhat out of fear that he might fall.) He wasn't actually feeling like this because of three words...right? “Babe..am I supposed to be kinda horny right now?” It was a bit of a strange question, but hey, it never hurts to ask.

(Y/n) chuckled. “Well, yeah. I might have to carry you out of here once we're done.” His warm smile from earlier didn't falter as he spoke.

‘How can he say something like that so casually? If I say something like that, I'd get d–’ Ryu's thoughts were snapped away when he felt his chest touch the stall divider and his pants being pulled down. He let out a soft moan as (Y/n) stroked him through his boxers.

🏙️

‘What the hell is taking them so long?!’ Isayama got up from where she sat, and went to the men's bathroom. There wasn't anyone around, so no one would see her going in. She opened the first stall's door. ‘If they ditched me, I swear to go–’

“W-Wait, (Y/n)!~ Haa!~♡”

“Geez senpai, you're so wet inside~..♡”

Misaki froze. She couldn't be sure that it was (Y/n) and Tanaka in there—but those were definitely Tanaka's pants hanging over the second stall's door. Now she felt more..curious than angry. Isayama slipped into the first stall, carefully and quietly closing the door behind her, and slowly locking it so it didn't make noise.

Ryu tried to keep his breathing steady as (Y/n) fucked him with his fingers—even though that did absolutely nothing to help his current situation. Hell, he couldn't even process words anymore. The only actual word he could say was his boyfriend's name. He eventually remembered how to speak after about two minutes of being finger-fucked.

He wanted to sound more demanding, but his voice came out more whiny than what he'd have liked it to. “Fuck me already..ya fuckin– Hng!~” It may have been that he couldn't process it, or that (Y/n) had moved at the speed of sound, but Tanaka wasn't able to register how fast (Y/n) pulled his fingers out, and shoved his cock into his still tight hole. He wanted to say something, but all that came out was a choked whine.

“You were saying?~♡” (Y/n) asked, though it sounded more like a demand than a question.

Tanaka wasn't given a chance to answer due to (Y/n) ruthlessly fucking the poor man senseless. His loud whines and moans echoed throughout the bathroom, much to (Y/n)'s pleasure. He wanted everyone to know that he was a taken man. He wanted everyone on campus to hear Ryuunosuke's pleasurable cries.

Hearing the two men fucking in the next stall turned Isayama on to no end. (Even though it was more of (Y/n)'s voice that made her wet.) But she resisted touching herself because she wouldn't be able to forgive herself if she masturbated to her rival getting fucked. (A kinda stupid reason, but okay.)

“Fu–fuck, (Y/n)!~ So good..it feels so good!~” Ryu babbled, the words almost incoherent as he attempted to push back against his boyfriend's cock. “More!~ Give me more!~♡” He begged, voice broken and choking on his own breath.

The (e/c) eyed man didn't say a word. As his senpai had politely asked of him, (Y/n) drove his cock so deep into Tanaka that the said man let out the loudest drawn out moan (Y/n) had ever heard from him. If it weren't for the cum spewing from the teary eyed man, (Y/n) would've thought he had hurt his lover. He wasn't entirely sure until he felt Ryu continue to push back against him, desperate for more friction.

“Aww..you're so cute when you act like a bitch in heat, senpai~..♡”

He only got a choked whine in response.

“I'm pretty close anyway..do you want it inside?~♡” (Y/n) asked, pulling the shaky man up to his chest. Again, only a whine. (Y/n) parted Ryu's lips with his fingers, those fingers soon being coated in saliva. “Use your words~..”

Finally, Tanaka spoke, despite his unintentional dry heaving. “Fuck me- please~..”

“As you wish~♡” (Y/n) almost whispered, gripping Tanaka's cock firmly, earning another broken moan from the said man. “You're the only person I'd fuck like this, you know that, right?” He said, as he rubbed the shorter man's stomach.

“Y-Yeah..that makes me happy~..”

Lmao this was like- 80% highschool drama (in a college setting), and the remaining 20% being me getting horny for no reason. Also, I'm aware this made no sense. None of the stuff I write makes sense. :)

The class session is now over!~♡

[itsuki-minamy]

“K SIDE: PURPLE 12”

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

K - Side: Purple (Chapter List)

"Mom is about to die.", said his mother, gently stroking Yukari's hair.

His mother told him to go see the sea. At that time Yukari was 6 years old and, he obeyed her without knowing it. Originally, if she said "go" to him, he would go everywhere with the person named Miyoshi Shinto. She left in the hospital patient clothes, his mother and Mishakuji got into a car and headed straight for the sea.

The sunset over the sea was beautiful. The dimly lit sun was slowly disappearing, melting the breeze from the sky and the sea. Stars began to appear in the ultramarine sky, and as the two of them stared at it, his mother began to talk about death.

"That is why I will soon no longer be able to accompany you, Mishakuji-chan. I entrusted Sayuri-chan with the rest, so dear, thank you for being by my side."

Dinner that day was curry, as simple as saying that his mother would say goodbye to him forever. Yukari looked at her while he was on her lap. Eyes the same color as his were staring into his face. Yukari saw them more beautiful than the stars that shone in the sky.

Yukari asked her when they could see each other again.

"Eh? I don't know, I haven't died before to know."

Yukari said that he hated the idea of ​​not being able to see her again.

"It's bad for mom too. ​But, well, this is it. It can't be helped. There's no one who can't die."

Yukari asked if everyone would die. His mother hugged Yukari from behind; the arms around his chest were white and thin like dead branches, but still warm.

"That's right. Everyone will die one day. Taka-san, Mi-chan, Seiya-san, Sayu-chan and Yukari-chan."

As she touched Yukari's cheeks with her warm palm, "But…", she continued to say. "The important thing is to live, not die."

Yukari looked into his mother's eyes. Her brightness that was more beautiful than the stars.

"People live until they die. After my death, Mishakuji-chan will continue to live. It's a shame I can't see Mishakuji-chan growing up and becoming beautiful, but it's fine."

Then his mother smiled slightly, looking at Yukari's face.

"The most beautiful thing is already in front of me."

Then they continued looking at the sea all the time.

Yukari and his mother lived always giving each other warmth, until the sun set on the sea, the night sky fell, and the white moon floated in the black-tinted sky.

++++++++++

Mi-chan was suffocated on the second floor of the cabaret club where he worked.

Seiya was charred on the street near his house.

Sayuri's body was found in the burned remains of "Hanawarabe."

A week after he protected Yukari, he learned of their deaths.

The few burned survivors of "Nibangai" were kindly protected by an unknown organization called "Scepter 4". Careful attention to injured people and sufficient security, although it was not a safe area. They promised to be the lord of salvation, but they were also carefully interrogated.

They wanted to know only one thing.

In other words, who defeated the members of the "Purgatory" clan?

The members of "Purgatory" fought as if burning their entire existence. Thus, even if it was only one member, it was possible that it could achieve combat power comparable to that of executives from other clans if the conditions were met. It wasn't a clan member from "Scepter 4" who defeated such monster, but "Tokijikuin" and "Cathedral" also sent me a message saying "We don't know anything about it."

Where and who submitted them, and for what purpose? It was a mystery that could not be taken care of by "Scepter 4", who was facing "Purgatory".

The interrogation unfolded in silence, with the special abilities and existence of the hidden "King".

However, from the beginning, "Scepter 4" was the only one who paid attention.

A high school student who lived in the "Hanawarabe" bar, Mishakuji.

He was more than a survivor. At the time of discovery, he went to the immediate vicinity of the corpses of the members of the "Purgatory" clan, and a bloodstained "Scepter 4" saber rolled under his feet. He had been informed that the situation was not just a matter of fact, but was so diabolical that the hasty members accidentally drew their swords.

After being protected, Mishakuji Yukari responded to the questioning with surprising obedience. The concern for the high school students who had all their relatives killed also applied to "Scepter 4", but he never got a chance to use it. Yukari simply answered only what he needed.

He picked up the saber from a bar he knew.

One of the men in black was defeated by his sword master.

And he defeated the other one who killed his master.

"In other words, in short, that's how it was."

In "Scepter 4" office, Jin Habari, who was reading the report, raised his face and coldly laughed.

"Two clansmen were sent to kill the former 'Purgatory' clansman, Noriya Baraki. The target started a battle in 'Nibangai' and was pursued while causing enormous damage to the surroundings. 'A' is returned and avenged. There, Isshin Hase, who was a gatekeeper for "Nibangai", and his disciple, Mishakuji, appear, and Isshin Hase kills Purgatory "B". The boy named Yukari brilliantly defeated him."

"Habari. Do you really believe in such a story?"

It was Gen Shiotsu, deputy director of "Scepter 4", who made a stunned voice. His lips were bitterly distorted at the interesting report.

Habari snorted, "Hm." and placed the report on the office desk. He combined the fingers of both hands and pointed his gaze to a corner of the ceiling.

"Sure. If you just listen to the story, it's absurd. If a high school student killed a member of the "Purgatory" clan, then the future of "Scepter 4" is much brighter. Let's check the results of the national kendo tournament when we select members for next time."

"Habari."

"It's a joke. Don't look so difficult."

As if to loosen the wrinkles between Shiotsu's brows, Habari shook his untangled palm slightly and then raised his index finger.

"But no matter how absurd, the situation is in line with the testimony of the boy named Yukari. "B's" fatal wound was due to Isshin Hase's wooden sword, and Baraki's fatal wound was due to the saber. that Yukari had."

"The saber was brought in by "A". Better to think of the record and "A" as compensation. You will see the autopsy result on the record."

"Look at the autopsy result. He had burns all over his body, but it was not difficult for him to fight. There were almost no injuries from Isshin Hase's wooden sword. So there is only one answer."

"……"

"It was the common people who had no abilities that defeated the 'Purgatory' clansman."

Shiotsu's expression became even more pronounced.

"Is that possible?"

"Even the clansman is human. If his throat is ripped open, he will die. If a human dedicates his entire life to that, the sword can hit a stranger."

Habari's index finger settled on the report on the desk. Seeing him narrow his eyes, Shiotsu was caught up in an unpleasant premonition.

"Hey, Habari. No way..."

"I'm interested."

Then Habari stood up with a refreshing smile.

"Let's meet the Yukari boy. Maybe he is our mighty sword."

++++++++++

The man looked like a piercing blue sky.

Habari Jin suddenly appeared in the private room where Mishakuji was living a sheltered life. He was as bright as a cloudless blue sky and full of unshakeable confidence like the sun that shines in the skies. Even if it wasn't to Yukari's taste, the man's beauty was understandable at first glance.

What came out of Habari's mouth was an unrealistic story.

People with abilities that manipulate special powers and a "King". The clan and the members of the clan that comprise it.

He wouldn't have believed it if he had heard it in words. However, Yukari was "experiencing" it. He had seen the men in black wearing flames.

It was a clan called "Purgatory" that burned down Yukari's hometown.

There was little meaning or reason for his murder. It was like a random buried explosion. The damage could not be avoided and will continue to do so, Habari said.

And to end the story...

"Would you like to get into "Scepter 4"?"

Habari said such a thing.

"Our mission as "Scepter 4" is to prevent damage to the city due to the misuse of super powers and reduce the root cause called "Purgatory". If you are willing to do so, I want you to participate in the battle with us. You are qualified to defeat "Purgatory" even though you are an ordinary person with no different abilities."

With that said, Habari extended his right hand.

Yukari narrowed his eyes in a dazzling way.

There was an irresistible power in his hands. Just as gold attracts people, Habari's words were inevitably full of charm that made people clash. Take his hand, nod and swear allegiance. It seemed quite natural to do so, and there was a reason for Yukari to do it.

"Purgatory" had killed all of Yukari's family.

Since he was protected, that thought had never disappeared for a second. "Purgatory" was a great target to spit out the dark emotions that swirled within him. Become a member of the "Scepter 4" clan and hunt down and kill all those beasts. It seemed ideal for Yukari, as if it were a natural path laid out in front of him. Then…

"I…"

Yukari remembered Hase's last words.

"It seems you can go anywhere."

Habari blinked slowly and couldn't measure its meaning.

Looking back into his eyes, Yukari said.

"To be able to go where I want and live how I want. I think that's all my family wanted from me. It's not about revenge or going to war."

He couldn't believe it.

That would also be an excuse. Even if he wanted revenge, there was no need for Yukari to live that way.

Not because they wanted it that way.

Because he wanted to, Mishakuji Yukari will live as Mishakuji Yukari wants.

"I'm going to see beautiful things, so I can't hold that hand."

"I see."

Habari inevitably laughed and withdrew his right hand.

"I'm sorry I held you back. I hope you have a lot of happiness in your destiny."

"Yes. Thanks for your help."

Yukari leaned over and hung the luggage left in the room on his shoulders.

A poor backpack and a sheath that wrapped his favorite wooden sword. With that, he stepped right next to Habari and tried to get out of the private room.

At that moment, a certain thought suddenly appeared.

(Can I kill this person?)

He didn't know why he thought that.

A beautiful "King" like the blue sky. How does that life shine? He may have wanted to see it.

"Three quick steps". Draw the wooden sword, bend Habari's wrist, aim at his head, and prick his throat.

As he listened to Habari on the sidelines, Mishakuji tried to imagine that image in his head.

However, Habari was laughing.

He chuckled softly before his eyes and lightly tugged on his right foot.

With so much movement, Yukari's image was destroyed. The unannounced one was crushed with his left hand, and completely suppressed. The image came to mind clearly, and Yukari shook his head slightly.

There were countless beautiful things in this world that he did not know about. That made Yukari so happy and sad that he wanted to cry.

++++++++++

Shiotsu had an openly relieved expression when he learned that Mishakuji Yukari's recruitment had failed.

"Really, did he go?"

"Oh, I shuddered brilliantly."

Despite being the "King" who rules the order, Habari's ideas were always out of the standard. One of them was the ongoing canal plan. Shiotsu had the honest impression that it was not a joke, even though he had such problems.

"Scepter 4" is a public institution. Habari knew how difficult it would be to incorporate minors and even go out to exchange life and death, and it was Shiotsu's role to be associated with him.

He knew Shiotsu's feelings. Habari had a light tone.

"But that's it. That kind of person will go wherever he wants."

"Well that's correct. There is no way that ordinary people can outperform talented people."

"I never thought they would reject me in such a place. I was surprised after a long time."

Shiotsu opened his mouth angrily.

"What? What did you say?"

"That's why I faced Yukari. He tries to kill me."

Habari said that with a laugh.

Of course, Shiotsu couldn't laugh.

"No kidding! Why would he have to target your life?"

"Ah? He just wanted to do that for no reason. I think the person who can kill the 'King' is unexpectedly like this."

Habari was shocked that he was not in control. Seeing that all the reasoning was beyond his common sense, Shiotsu didn't know what it should look like.

Habari looked up as if something had occurred to him.

"But sending him into the world is like sowing a Shura seed. Maybe I should have killed him. What do you think, Shiotsu?"

"I don’t know!"

Shiotsu yelled, pointing his finger at his temple to avoid a headache.

++++++++++

Exhaling a cloudy white breath, Ichigen Miwa opened a red Japanese umbrella.

The snow was piling up gently and Miwa left a mark on it. Both the eaves and the garden were a silver world. He loosely twisted his umbrella and let the snow fall, with a bitter smile inwardly saying that it would be difficult to remove the snow.

It was not out of his own defense that the wooden sword hung from his waist.

It was because he had a certain feeling. It can be said that it was precognition. To Miwa Ichigen who woke up as "King", the Slate gave him the power to see the future. It was expressed as a vision that came suddenly regardless of Miwa's intention.

And now, there was a scene in front of him that was the same as the vision he had this morning.

A boy was standing in the snow. He was looking at him with a backpack and scabbard over his shoulder. His face was beautiful, but there was a kind of demon that lived in his eyes. He had to carry a wooden sword because Miwa saw the devil.

"Miwa Ichigen-san, isn't it?"

The boy opened his mouth. The line of sight focused on Miwa.

Miwa smiled and nodded.

"Yes, that's right."

"Nice to meet you. My name is Mishakuji Yukari. Please teach me a lesson."

With that said, Yukari took out the wooden sword from its sheath.

Seeing Yukari's posture, Miwa was slightly impressed.

"I see."

After a while of silence, Miwa carelessly said,

"Is there a dead heart?"

Yukari's expression froze.

He didn't understand why Miwa knew. His unique ability was the ability to see the future, and he should not have been able to know the present from a distant acquaintance.

However, when he saw the boy in front of him, his devilish appearance, his standing posture, and the soot-covered backpack, that intuition was suddenly born.

Yukari's appearance affirmed that intuition. With trembling lips, he approached Miwa.

"My master said that your sword technique is more beautiful than anything else in the world."

The evil in his eyes grew stronger. He took the lead heading towards Miwa.

"I want to see it. Please show me."

Miwa narrowed his eyes.

He did not like useless conflicts. However, no matter what he replied, Yukari would lift his sword from him and attack him. Check the "beauty" of Miwa with the sword. For that reason alone, Mishakuji visited Miwa who lived in this mountainous town.

If he cannot exchange words, he must exchange swords.

"Thank you."

Yukari thanked Miwa that he silently abandoned his umbrella and held his sword. The truth contained in it showed that Yukari had not yet been diabolically dyed. At that, Miwa believed that he would have a bit of salvation. He didn't want to think that the last seed Isshin grew would sprout like a demon.

The snow was piling up silently.

Miwa was immovable. Yukari, on the other hand, gently raised the tip of her sword and stabbed. The murderous pressure of aiming the cannon burned down Miwa's throat.

Yukari's body sank as fast as falling snow.

That's when the "words" dropped.

The "words" came to Miwa's mind, as if the white feathers were gently falling. He could not understand the meaning of this feeling that he had experienced many times since his childhood. It was more important for Miwa to put those "words" together than to think about it.

Yukari, who was facing time, clearly felt Miwa's change.

The taut tension was gone in an instant, leaving Miwa's body full of hollows behind it. It seemed easier to pierce and cut it than to hit the vegetation.

However, Yukari's sword did not move.

He seemed like it was full of gaps. He should be hit at any time. He couldn't do that.

Before he knew it, Yukari's breathing was shallow and rapid. Although he still hadn't moved his fingertips, the sweat that broke out wet his body. Yukari's body was already prepared for defeat, although he felt no murder, no pressure, no breeze.

He didn't understand the meaning.

However, he was strictly in front of him.

With his sweaty hands, he gripped the handle of the wooden sword again and Mishakuji consolidated his resolve. At least one sword. He couldn't lose until he saw the beauty of Hase's words. With so much thought, Yukari tried to kick the ground.

Unexpectedly Miwa spoke a sentence.

"One bite, heart and soul."

The snow was piling up silently.

When did he put his knee in the snow? Yukari didn't remember.

A wooden sword slid from his palm, tears welled up in both eyes, and the snow on the ground melted. Ashamed of that, Yukari covered his face with both hands.

A shadow was projected on him.

When he looked up, Miwa was holding an umbrella towards him. He didn't think he would face his sword, with a soft smile.

His head was in a mess and his heart was out of coordination. Still, Yukari barely squeezed his voice out.

"This is the first time I have been defeated with words."

"Yes."

Miwa nodded silently. Neither proud nor humble, just as he was.

"Yukari. If you're okay, why don't you come home?"

"……"

Yukari turned around, because he ignored his actions. Suddenly, he tried to cut off Miwa who was living quietly. He couldn't tell if he could accept Miwa's proposal.

But…

"I want you to tell me about your heart."

That said, Yukari was impressed.

He wants to talk to this beautiful person about him. That thought swelled in his heart. How do this person's words describe Hase, the person who showed him something beautiful for the first time? The feeling was as strong as the urge to see Miwa's sword technique.

"I'll tell you how that person lived."

How did he laugh, cry, eat, drink and fight Isshin Hase? He wanted this person to tell him how beautiful the last brilliance of that life was.

"Come on."

Yukari nodded and stood up.

Then they got into the same umbrella and walked down the snowy road.

[shintaroux]

YOUR BREATH SETS FIRE TO THE AIR

I

Midorima Shintarou was scowling.

“Shin-chan, you’re repelling the customers again,” Takao, his co-worker and a friend, complained and bumped their hips together as if that would ease the crease between Midorima’s brows. “You should smile more.”

Midorima, who was busy stocking cups on a pile after the third customer who had approached him made a sharp turn and ended up being serviced by Takao, sombrely glanced at him, gave his advice a moment’s consideration, and then stretched his lips to the best of his abilities.

All he got from Takao in return was a pout. “That smile is the reason why all customers come to me.”

Midorima was aware of the distinct incompatibility between this job’s requirements and his personality, but he couldn’t quit now.

Or rather, he had a reason not to.

That reason walked into Starbucks at exactly 1:25pm one day.

II

Midorima was attracted to red hair; he liked the way it seemed to set fire to the air and how it contrasted with black clothing. Needless to say, Midorima hadn’t crossed paths with many red-heads in his life so when one of them walked into the shop, he might’ve stared hard enough to have a few customers scurry away from the counter. However, the red-head fearlessly sauntered to Midorima and ordered a grande iced latte with extra foam.

Midorima carefully assessed the order, trying to analyze the ingredients for a clue or two about the person ordering, but he came up empty-handed. While he was filling the cup, he couldn’t resist stealing a glance at the red-head but even though he tried to hide his sneaky eyes behind his long eyelashes, he was caught by a pair of icy mismatched eyes.

Chills poured down his spine.

The red-head never once looked away from Midorima. It made his work a bit harder, but at least he was working.

“Here you go, sir,” Midorima said and put the cup on the counter. “Shall I write your name on it?”

The red-head touched his chin with his slender index finger and thumb. “Hm,” he hummed softly for a few seconds before he continued: “Could you write: ‘To be prepared is half the victory’?”

Midorima snorted before he could stop himself. The red-head cocked his head to one side.

“Something the matter?”

Nothing. Except that an actual, living person of the 21st century just quoted Cervantes. “It’s unusual to find someone who knows of Cervantes, let alone someone who wants his quote on a cup of coffee.”

The red-head smiled, lightly; a smile tinged with smugness. “Perhaps you’ve been looking in the wrong places.”

Midorima couldn’t help but return the favour. “Perhaps.”

He wrote the quote as neatly as he could (he had yet to get used to writing on convex surfaces) and handed it to the red-head whose fingers ghosted over Midorima’s a split second longer than necessary, provided it was necessary at all.

As he was walking away, the red-head glanced over his shoulder and said: “It is also very unusual to find someone who recognizes a Cervantes’ quote and is still willing to write it on a cup of coffee.”

Midorima smirked as he recognized challenge in his voice. “Perhaps you’ve been looking in the wrong places.”

“Well, perhaps I’ve finally found the right place. Good day.”

“Good day.”

Midorima watched the red-headed stranger leave and when the sound of doors closing merged with the chattering of other customers he was shaken back to reality; a reality which involved his co-worker’s elbow poking him in the ribs.

Midorima looked to his left and saw that Takao was sneering.

“Oh~ did my hawk eye just see Shin-chan take interest in someone?”

“Shut up, Takao.”

III

After that, the red-head kept coming back day after day and ordered the exact same thing. He engaged Midorima in a conversation just long enough to get him hooked on his words, but not long enough to reveal anything substantial about himself; Midorima found it awfully unfair considering the red-head has read his name on his name plate.

“Shintarou-kun,” he pronounced. Midorima’s first name rolled off his tongue like syrup, there was something sweet and sensual attached to the last syllable.

Midorima had to keep his shoulders from melting. “Shintarou is just fine.”

The red-head smiled and tipped his cup as ‘cheers’ before he left. “Goodbye, Shintarou.”

IV

One Thursday, the red-head sat at one of the tables in the corner. Takao went to service him because Midorima had made it a solid point not to move from his position behind the counter since his height and build tended to bring discomfort to some customers.

The red-head kept his hands clasped on the table; his back was slightly bent forward as he looked up at Takao and said something with but a barely-noticeable movement of his mouth. A few moments later, Takao came back with a sullen look on his face.

“Mister Picky wants to be served by nobody except you. I can’t even be angry at him because he asked for you so politely that I felt like I was being flattered and intimidated at the same time.”

Midorima offered no reply and walked to the red-head’s table, well aware that his every movement was observed by those alluring, predator eyes.

“May I have your order?” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Red-head leaned back into his chair and Midorima jotted down in his mental notes that tight-fitting sweaters do wonders to his notably smaller figure, when compared to Midorima’s.

“You seem much taller when you’re not behind the counter,” the red-head said, his voice revealing not a speck of his intentions.

“That’s the idea. May I have your order, please?”

“A grande iced latte with extra foam.”

“Coming right up.”

 When the red-head had gone, Midorima was left staring at his tip. His rich tip.

Takao squeezed his way underneath Midorima’s armpits, much like children do when they want their parents’ attention, and gaped at the bills in Midorima’s hands.

“Whoa.”

V

“Shin-chan, according to my calculations, if he continues tipping you like this, in exactly 621 days we’ll be able to quit this job and live comfortably in Las Vegas for the rest of our lives.”

“Shut up, Takao.”

VI

“I don’t want to be rude, sir, but I don’t think that such a copious tip is necessary.”

“Why not? You do your job well.”

“I press buttons on a coffee machine.”

The red-head’s lip quivered as if he was holding back a smile. “Indeed, but you also press my buttons. If you ask me, I’m not tipping you enough.”

Midorima pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose in a poor attempt to hide his flushed cheeks.

“I still cannot accept this amount,” he said. He might’ve been obstinate; it was not on him to decide what amount of money a customer should leave, and maybe he would’ve accepted it if it was from somebody else, but when he received tips from the red-head, he felt like there were hidden motives behind them; motives he couldn’t read yet.

The red-head intertwined his fingers, his elbows were propped on the table that had become ‘his table’, and rested his chin on them. “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?”

No, Midorima wanted to say… but there was something he wanted to know. “Your name. You could give me your name.”

The red-head’s lips formed a thin smile. “I would like to place my order now.”

VII

The next day, Midorima felt cross when he saw the red-head walk through the door. Even as he was leisurely approaching Midorima’s counter, Midorima kept his gaze firmly at the counter he was wiping.

“I would like to order a grande iced latte with extra foam.”

“Coming right up, sir.”

Not once did Midorima lift his gaze from the cup he was pouring beverage into. He wanted to; because taking in the red-head’s appearance was like a daily drug for him. He craved to see those knowing eyes seizing him up; he craved to see what outfit graced his shoulders and how it hugged his sinewy figure; he craved to make those thin, pink lips stretch even in the smallest of smiles…

But Midorima was feeling annoyed at him and he ought to hold his ground.

“You’re angry at me,” the red-head interrupted the silence. Midorima didn’t say a word. He continued adding foam to the drink. “You’re angry at me because I won’t tell you my name.”

Midorima put the cap on the cup and pulled out a permanent marker.

“All in due time, Shintarou.”

“What shall I write for you today?”

Midorima peeked at the red-head, just a bit, and saw an expression that was equally amused and perplexed.

“You may write anything you desire.”

Midorima didn’t question the red-head’s decision. He popped the marker open and wrote the first thing that came to his mind: “There are several good protections against temptation, but the surest is cowardice.”

When he finished writing, Midorima handed the drink to red-head who read it with a single sweep of his eyes.

The corner of his lips curled into a smile. “I can’t believe I am being lectured by Twain.”

“Good day, sir.”

VIII

Midorima didn’t stay annoyed for long. In fact, the next day he had put it past him to look away from the red-head. Their time “together” was limited after all, and he couldn’t waste it on irrational feelings. He would serve coffee and feast his eyes, nothing more and nothing less.

That day, like any other day, the red-head approached Midorima’s counter.

“A grande iced latte with extra foam, sir?” Midorima asked before the red-head could even open his mouth. Midorima’s assertiveness seemed to have amused him greatly because his lip trembled, like a broken guitar cord, as if resisting a smile when he placed his elbow on the counter and leaned in, suggestively, crossing the borders of Midorima’s personal space.

“Actually, Shintarou, I was wondering if you could recommend something different for me,” he said, his warm breath coaxing Midorima’s lips with provocation; with sin.  

Midorima felt like Icarus and the red-head was the sun.

The list of drinks had escaped him somehow.

“Or maybe your favourite drink?” The red-head noticed this; of course he did.

“Grande caramel brulée frappuccino.” Midorima dictated like a machine, noticing how his eyes had betrayed him when they travelled down to the red-head’s lips. The red-head lifted an eyebrow. “That’s my favourite drink,” Midorima added.

The red-head stepped away from the counter, back into the customer zone. “Then I shall go with that. Write whatever you please on it, again, thank you. ”

Midorima deftly prepared the cup with the hot beverage all the while thinking about how never he had embarrassed himself so thoroughly. He could hear his heartbeat reaching crescendo in his ears.

The-red head walked out with Midorima’s favourite drink in his hands (and the most pretentious, challenging quote Midorima could think of).

IX

“What do you think his name is?” Midorima asked even though Takao was too busy counting change for a customer.

“Mister ‘Stick So Far up My Ass I Have No Choice but to Sit So Straight’,” Takao replied.

Midorima should’ve never asked.

X

“I would like Grande caramel brulée frappuccino, please,” the red-head ordered. It was the second day of summer and he was wearing a v-neck black t-shirt that made Midorima want to take him out for some ice cream. Or take a sneak peek under what the fabric is hiding.

“Took a liking to it?” Midorima inquired, suddenly feeling a bit smug about recommending something that piqued the red-head’s interest enough to ask for it himself.

“You could say so.”

Being as well-versed in preparing his favourite drink as he was, it was in red-head’s hands in a manner of minutes.

“Good da—“

“May I get that marker you write with?” The red-head interrupted. Midorima, albeit puzzled, handed the marker without asking any questions. The Red-head scribbled something on the cup, put the marker down and then extended his hand as if he wanted Midorima to take the cup.

Midorima, nervous, pushed his glasses up his nose even though they were already in their place.

“For you,” the Red-head said.

Midorima took the cup. Its surface was warm; he rotated it until the text the Red-head wrote unfolded before his eyes. It was a short message scribbled in neat hand-writing.

Akashi Seijurou.

And a phone number.

Midorima lifted his head to meet that smile on the red-head’s, no, Akashi’s lips that he could revere forever and never get bored of it.

He felt confident, at peace. It was the feeling Midorima didn’t get to welcome often.

“I’m glad you decided to keep this place,” Midorima said as a warm surge of memories of their fateful (slightly pretentious) first encounter came flooding into his mind.

Akashi was already on his way outside, without a cup in his hands this time, when he added: “It took me long enough to find it.”