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pumpkinpaix · 4 years ago

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Pleeeeeeease get into the class one at some point because I very much want to understand the class dynamics happening in the story but I have yet to find a meta that dives into it

god anon you want me dead don’t you alsjdfljks

referring to this post

okay, so -- my specific salt about class interpretations in mdzs are very targeted. I can’t pretend to have a deep understanding of how class works in mdzs generally because uhhhhh yeah i don’t think i have that. i’m just not familiar enough with the genre and/or the particulars of chinese class systems. but! i can talk in general terms as to why I feel a certain way about the class dynamics that I do think I understand and how I think they relate to the themes of the novel! i’m gonna talk about wei wuxian, the daozhangs, xue yang, and 3zun with, I’m sure, a bunch of digressions along the way.

the usual disclaimers: i do not think you are a bad person if you hold opinions contrary to my own. i may disagree with you very strongly, but like. this isn’t a moral judgment, fandom is transformative and interpretive etc. etc. and i may change my mind. who knows what the future will bring!

OKAY so let’s begin!

here’s the thing about wei wuxian: he’s not poor. I think because characters use “son of a servant” kind of often when they’re trying to insult him, a lot of people latch onto that and think that it’s a much stronger indication of his societal status than it actually is. iirc, most of the insults that fall along the “son of a servant” line come after wei wuxian starts breaking severely from tradition. it’s a convenient thing to attack him for, but doesn’t actually indicate anything about his wealth. (exception: yu ziyuan, but that’s a personal familial issue) this is in direct contrast to jin guangyao who is constantly mocked for his family line, publicly and privately, no matter what he does.

so this, coupled with all the jokes about wwx never having any money (wei wuqian, sizhui’s “i’ve long since known you had no money” etc.), plus his like, rough years on the street as a child ends up producing this interpretation of wei wuxian, especially in modern aus, as someone who is very class conscious and “eat the rich”. but the fact of the matter is, wei wuxian IS rich. aside from the years in his childhood and the last two years of his life in yiling, like -- wei wuxian had money and status. he is gentry. he is respected as gentry. he is treated as a son by the sect leader of yunmeng jiang -- he does not have the jiang name, but it is so very clear that jiang fengmian favors him. wei wuxian is ranked fourth of all the eligible young masters in the cultivation world -- that is not a ranking he could have attained without being accepted into the upper class.

wei wuxian’s poverty does not affect him in the way that it affects jin guangyao or xue yang. he is of low-ish birth (still the son of jiang fengmian’s right hand man though! ok sure, “son of a servant” but like. >_> whatever anyways), but for most of his life he had money. he, jiang cheng, and their sect brothers go into town and steal lotus pods with the understanding that “jiang-shushu will pay for it”. this is a regular thing! that’s fucking rich kid behavior!!! wei wuxian is careless with money because he doesn’t have to worry about it. he still has almost all the benefits of being upper class: education, food security, respect, recognition etc. I think there may also be a misconception that wei wuxian was always on the verge of being kicked out by yu ziyuan, or that he was constantly walking on eggshells around her for fear of being disowned, but that is just textually untrue. i could provide receipts, but I admittedly don’t really feel like digging them up just now ;;

even in his last years in yiling, he was not the one who was dealing with the acute knowledge of poverty: wen qing is the one managing the money, and as far as we know, wei wuxian did little to no management of daily life during the burial mounds days -- mostly, he’s described as hiding in his cave for days on end, working on his inventions, running around like a force of chaos, frivolously making a mess of things -- it’s very very cute that he buries a’yuan in the dirt, but in classic wei wuxian fashion, he did Not think about the practical consequences of it -- that A’Yuan has no other clean clothes, and now he’s gotten this set dirty and has no intention of washing them. is this a personality thing? yeah, but I think it’s also indicative of his lack of concern over the logistics of everyday survival, re: wealth.

furthermore, i think it is important to remember that wei wuxian, when he is protecting the wen remnants, is not protecting common folk: he is still protecting gentry. fallen gentry, yes! but gentry nonetheless. wen qing was favored by wen ruohan, and wen ning himself says that he has a retinue of people under his command (the remnants, essentially). their branch of the family do not have the experience of living and growing in poverty -- they are impoverished and persecuted in their last years, but that’s a very different thing from being impoverished your whole life. (sidenote: I do not believe wei wuxian’s primary motivation for defending the wen remnants was justice -- i believe he did it because he felt he owed wen ning and wen qing a life debt, and once he was there, he wasn’t going to stand around and let the work camps go on. yes, he is concerned about justice and doing the right thing, but that’s not why he went in the first place. anyways, that’s another meta)

after wei wuxian returns, he then marries back into gentry, and very wealthy gentry at that. lwj provides him all the money he could ever want, he is never worried about going homeless, starving, being denied opportunities based on his class and accompanying disadvantages. who would dare? and neither wei wuxian nor lan wangji seem to have much interest in shaking up the order of things, except in little things like the way they teach the juniors. they live in gusu, under the auspices of the lan, and they live a happy, domestic life.

were his years on the street traumatizing? yes, of course they were, there’s so much delicious character exploration to be done re: wei wuxian’s relationship to food, his relationship to his own needs, and his relationship to the people he loves. it’s all important and good! but I feel very strongly that that experience, while it was formative for him, did not impart any true understanding of poverty and the common person’s everyday struggles, nor do I think he ever really gains that understanding. he is observant and canny and aware of class and blood, certainly, but not in a way that makes it his primary hill to die on (badum-tss).

this is in very stark contrast to characters like jin guangyao and xue yang, and to some extent, xiao xingchen and song lan. I’ll start with the daozhangs, because I think they’re the simplest (??).

I think both xiao xingchen and song lan have class consciousness, but in a very simplified, broad-strokes kind of way (at least, given the information we know about them). we know that the two of them share similar values and want to one day form their own sect that gives no weight to the nobility of your lineage and has no concern with your wealth. we also know that they both disdain intersect politics and are more concerned with ideals and principles rather than status. but, I think because of that, this actually somewhat limits their perception and understanding of how status is used to oppress. as far as we know, neither of them participated on any side in sunshot and they demonstrate much more interest in relating to the commoners. honestly, i hc that they were flitting around trying to help decimated towns, protecting defenseless villages etc. I ALSO think this has a lot of interesting potential in terms of xiao xingchen and wei wuxian’s relationship, if xiao xingchen is ever revived. regardless of whether you’re in CQL or novel verse, xiao xingchen really doesn’t know wei wuxian at all, other than knowing that he’s his shijie’s son. he knows that cangse-sanren met with a tragic end, like yanling-daoren before her, and that he wants to be different. but here is cangse-sanren’s son, laying waste to entire cities, desecrating the dead. I would very much like to get into xiao xingchen’s head during that period of time (and i think, if i do it right, i can write some of it into the songxiao fixit), but that’s neither here nor there, because i’ve wandered off from my point again.

i would posit that song lan is used to an ascetic lifestyle, and xiao xingchen probably is too -- but that’s different from poverty because there’s an element of choice to it. I also think that neither of them is particularly worldly, xiao xingchen especially. he lived on an isolated mountain until he was like, seventeen, and he came down full of ideals and naivete about how the world worked. I think that both of them see inequality, that they are angered by it, and that they want to do something about it -- but their solution is neither to topple the sects, nor is it to reform the system. rather, it seems to be more about withdrawing and creating their own removed world. I think that the daozhangs embody a kind of utopianism that isn’t present in the minds of any of the other characters, not even wangxian. honestly, baoshan-sanren’s mountain is a utopian ideal, but one that is not described. it exists outside of and beyond the world. i have a lot of jumbled, vague thoughts about utopianism generally, mostly informed by china miéville and ursula k. le guin, and I don’t think i have the ability to articulate them here, but i wanted to. hm. say something? there is something about the inherent dystopianism contained within every utopia, that utopias are necessary, but also reflections of the existence of terrible things in their conception. idk. there’s something in there, I know it!! but i suppose what I want to say is -- i do not think the daozhangs understand class and social hierarchy very deeply because they don’t see a need to examine it deeply. for their goals, the details aren’t the point. they’re not looking to reform within the system, they’re looking to build something outside of it. I think they spend a lot of time concerned with alleviating the symptoms of social oppression, and their values reflect the injustices they witness there.

regardless, even if their story ends in tragedy and there is a certain amount of critique re: the utopian approach, i think the text still emphasizes that xiao xingchen left a utopia and that he thought that people mattered enough for him to try, and that was an incredibly honorable, kind, and human thing to do.

YEAH SURE THE DAOZHANGS ARE THE SIMPLEST ok ok RETURNING to class and moving forward: xue yang.

i also don’t think xue yang has class consciousness lol, or not in any way that really matters, but I do think poverty impacted him in a much stronger way than it impacted wei wuxian. wei wuxian spent some years on the street as a child. xue yang grew up on the streets. chang ci’an’s horrific treatment of him was directly due to his class and social standing: chang ci’an is a nobleman and xue yang is not even worth the dirt beneath the wheels of his cart. what I think is the seminal point though, is that this does not make xue yang think particularly deeply about systemic injustice, because xue yang is so self-centered, self-driven, and individualistic. he is not even slightly concerned about how poverty and class might affect other people -- they’re other people. what he takes away from his experience is not an anger at being wrongfully cheated by a system, but an anger at being wrongfully cheated by a specific man.

xue yang is not particularly concerned with the politics of the aristocracy -- he has no obvious ambitions other than, “i want to eat sweets whenever i please”, “i want to hurt anyone who wrongs me”, and “i want to be so strong that no one can hurt me”. like, he just doesn’t care -- it’s not the kind of power he wants. he sneers at people for like, personal reasons, not class reasons -- “you think you’re better than me” re: xiao xingchen and song lan. to him, all people -- poor, wealthy, noble, common -- are essentially equal, and they are all beneath him. after all, what does he care what family someone comes from, how much money they have? everyone bleeds when you cut them. some of them might be harder to get to than others, but xue yang does not fear that sort of thing. it’s just another obstacle he needs to vault on his way to getting revenge and/or a pastry.

ANYWAYS onto jin guangyao (wow this is hm. getting rather long ahaha oh dear): I would argue that the two characters with the most acute understanding of class/societal politics and the injustice of them are jin guangyao and lan xichen. i’ll start with jin guangyao for obvious reasons.

where xue yang took the damaging effects of poverty as personal slights, I think jin guangyao is painfully aware that there is nothing personal about them, which is, in some ways, much worse. why are two sons, born on the same day to the same father, treated so differently? just because.

he watched his mother struggle and starve and work herself to the bone in a profession where she was constantly disrespected and abused for almost nothing in return, while his father could have lifted her out of poverty with the wave of a finger. why didn’t he? because he didn’t like her? no -- because he didn’t care, and the structures of the society they live in protect that kind of blase treatment of the lower class.

“so my mother couldn’t choose her own fate, is that her fault?” jin guangyao demands. he knows that he is unbelievably talented, that he has ambition, that he has potential, and that all of it is beyond his grasp just because his father didn’t want to bother with it. his mother’s life was destroyed, and his own opportunities were crippled with that negligence. it isn’t personal. that’s just the way things are. your individual identity is meaningless, your humanity does not exist. when he’s kicked down the steps of jinlin tai, it’s just more confirmation that no matter how talented or hardworking he is, no one will give him the time of day unless he finds a way to take it himself and become someone who “matters”.

jin guangyao’s cultivation is weak because he had a poor foundation, and he had a poor foundation because he was denied access to a good one. he copies others because that’s all he can do at this point, and he copies so well that he can hold his own against some of the strongest cultivators of his generation. he’s disparaged for copying and “stealing” techniques, but -- he never would have had to if only he had been born/accepted into the upper class. the fact is that i really do think jin guangyao was the most promising cultivator of his generation that we meet, including the twin jades and wei wuxian: he had natural talent, ambition, creativity, determination and cunning in spades. in some ways, I think that’s one of the overlooked tragedies of jin guangyao: the loss of not just the good man he could have been, but the powerful one too. imagine what he could have done.

jin guangyao spends his entire time in the world of the aristocracy feeling unsteady and terrified because he knows exactly how precarious his position is. he knows how easy it is to lose power, especially for someone like him. he’s working against so many disadvantages, and every scrap of honor he gets is a vicious battle. jin guangyao fears, and I think that’s something that’s lacking in xue yang, wei wuxian and the daozhangs’ experiences/understandings of poverty. i think it’s precisely that fear that emphasizes jin guangyao’s understanding of class and blood. jin guangyao exhibits an anxiety that neither wei wuxian nor xue yang do, and it’s because he truly knows how little he is worth in the eyes of society and how little there is he can do to change that. to me, it very much feels related to the anxiety of not knowing if tomorrow you’ll have something to eat, if tomorrow you’ll still have a home, if tomorrow someone will destroy you and never have to answer for it. it’s the anxiety of knowing helplessness intimately.

moreover, jin guangyao is the only person shown to use the wealth and power at his disposal to take concrete steps to actually help the common people typically ignored by the powerful -- the watchtowers. they’re described in chapter 42. it’s a system that is designed to cover remote areas that most cultivators are reluctant to go due to their inconvenience and the lack of means of the people who live there. the watchtowers assign cultivators to different posts, give aid to those previously forgotten, and if the people are too poor to pay what the cultivators demand, the lanling jin sect pays for it. jin guangyao worked on this for five years and burned a lot of bridges over it. people were strongly opposed to it, thinking that it was some kind of ploy for lanling jin’s personal benefit. but the thing is -- it worked. they were effective. people were helped.

i believe CQL frames the watchtowers as an allegory for a surveillance state/centralized control (i think?? it’s been a minute -- that’s the hazy impression i remember, something like a parallel to the wen supervisory offices?), but I personally don’t think that was the intent in the novel. the watchtowers are a public good. lanling jin doesn’t staff them with their own sect members -- they get nearby sects to staff them. it’s a warning network that they fund that’s supposed to benefit everyone, even those that everyone had considered expendable.

(did jin guangyao do terrible things to achieve this goal? yeah lol. it’s not confirmed, but his son sure did die... suspiciously...... at the hands of an outspoken critic of the watchtowers........ whom he then executed....... so like, maybe just a convenient coincidence for jin guangyao, two birds one stone, but. it seems. Unlikely.)

lan xichen is the only member of the gentry that ever shows serious compassion for and nuanced understanding of jin guangyao’s circumstances. lan xichen treats him as his equal regardless of jin guangyao’s current status -- even when he was meng yao, lan xichen treated him as a human being worthy of respect, as someone with great merits, as someone he would choose as a friend, but he did so knowing full well the delicate position meng yao occupied. this is in direct contrast to nie mingjue, who also believed that meng yao was worthy of respect as a human being, but was completely unable to comprehend the complexities of his circumstances and unwilling to grant him any grace. you know, the difference between “i acknowledge that your birth and status have had effects upon you, but I don’t think less of you for it” and “i don’t consider your birth and status at all when i interact with you because i think it is irrelevant” (“i don’t see color” anyone?)

to illustrate, from chapter 48:

大抵是觉得娼妓之子身上说不定也带着什么不干净的东西，这几名修士接过他双手奉上来的茶盏后，并不饮下，而是放到一边，还取出雪白的手巾，很难受似的，有意无意反复擦拭刚才碰过茶盏的手指。聂明玦并非细致之人，未曾注意到这种细节，魏无羡却用眼角余光扫到了这些。孟瑶视若未见，笑容不坠半分，继续奉茶。蓝曦臣接过茶盏之时，抬眸看他一眼，微笑道：“多谢。”

旋即低头饮了一口，这才继续与聂明玦交谈。旁的修士见了，有些不自在起来。

rough tl:

Probably because they believed that the son of a prostitute might also carry some unclean things upon his person, after these few cultivators took the teacups offered from [Meng Yao’s] two hands, they did not drink, but instead put them to one side, and furthermore brought out snow white handkerchiefs. Quite uncomfortably, and whether they were aware of it or not, they repeatedly wiped the fingers they had just used to touch the teacups. Nie Mingjue was not a detail-oriented person and never took note of such particulars, but Wei Wuxian caught these in the corner of his eye. Meng Yao appeared as if he had not seen, his smile unwavering in the slightest, and continued to serve tea. When Lan Xichen took the teacup, he glanced up at him and, smiling, said, “Thank you.”

He immediately dipped his head to take a sip, and only then continued to converse with Nie Mingjue. Seeing this, the nearby cultivators began to feel somewhat uneasy.

all right, since we’re in full cyan-rampaging-through-the-weeds mode at this point, i’m going to talk about how this is one of my favorite 3zun moments in the entire novel for characterization purposes because it really highlights how they all relate to one another, and to what degree each of them is aware of their own position in relation to the others and society as a whole.

1. nie mingjue, who is a forthright and blunt person, sets meng yao to serving tea and is done with it. he notices nothing wrong or inappropriate about the reactions of the people in the room because it’s not the sort of thing he considers important.

2. meng yao, knowing that his only avenue is to take it lying down with a smile, masks perfectly.

3. lan xichen, noticing all this, uses his own reputation to achieve two things at once: pointedly shame the other cultivators in attendance, and show meng yao that regardless of others’ opinions, he considers him an equal and does not endorse such behavior--and he does it while taking care that no fallout will come down on meng yao’s head.

is this yet another installment of cyan’s endless lxc defense thesis? why yes it is! no one is surprised! but this is my whole point: both meng yao and lan xichen understand the respective hierarchy and power dynamics within the room, while nie mingjue very much does not. this is not because nie mingjue is a bad person or because nie mingjue is stupid--it’s a combination of personality and upbringing. nie mingjue is straightforward and has no patience for such games. but then again, he can afford not to play because he was born into such a high position: that’s a privilege.

to break it down: meng yao knows that he is the lowest-ranked person in the room, sees the way people are subtly disrespecting him in full view of his general who is doing nothing about it. in some ways, this is good -- nie mingjue’s style of dealing with conflict is very direct and not at all suited to delicate political maneuvering. after all, the way he promoted meng yao was actually quite dangerous to meng yao: he essentially guaranteed that his men would bear meng yao a grudge and that their disrespect for him would only be compounded by their bitterness at being punished on his behalf. (it’s like, why often getting parents or teachers to intervene ineffectively in bullying can just be an incitement to more bullying -- same concept) meng yao’s reaction during that scene shows that he’s pretty painfully aware of this and is trying to defuse the situation to no avail. nie mingjue gives him a bootstrap speech (rip nie mingjue i love u so much but. sir) and then promotes him, which is pretty much the only saving grace of that entire exchange, for meng yao at least.

lan xichen, on the other hand, understands both that meng yao is the lowest-ranked person in the room and that any direct attempt to chastise the other cultivators in the room will only serve to hurt meng yao in the long run. he knows that if this were brought to nie mingjue’s attention, he would be outraged and not shy about it -- also bad for meng yao. so he uses what he has: his immaculate reputation. by acting contrary to the other cultivators’ behavior, he demonstrates that he finds their actions unacceptable but with the plausible deniability that it wasn’t directed at them, that this is just zewu-jun being his usual generous self. this means that the other cultivators have no one to blame but themselves, nothing to do but question their own actions. there is nowhere to cast off their discomfort. meng yao didn’t do anything. lan xichen didn’t do anything -- he just thanked meng yao and drank his tea, isn’t that what it’s there for? he doesn’t disrupt the peace, he doesn’t attack anyone and put them on the defensive, but he does make his position very clear.

i know this is a really small thing and i’m probably beating it to death, but I really think this shows just how cognizant lan xichen is of politics and emotional cause and effect in such situations. certainly, out of context I think the scene reads kind of cliche, but within the greater narrative of the story and within the arc of these characters specifically, I think it was a really smart scene to include. it also showcases lan xichen’s style of action: that he moves around and with a problematic situation as opposed to moving straight through.

not to be salty on main again, but this is why it’s very frustrating to me when I see people call lan xichen passive when he is anything but. his actions just don’t look like traditional “actions”, especially to an american audience. it’s easy to understand lan wangji and wei wuxian’s style of problem-solving: taking a stand, moving through, staying strong. lan xichen is juggling an inconceivable number of factors in any given situation, weighing his responsibilities in one role against those in another, and then trying to find the path through the thicket that will cause the least harm, both to himself and the thicket. lan wangji and wei wuxian are not particularly good at considering the far-reaching consequences of their actions -- again, not because they are bad people, but because of a combination of personality and upbringing. they’d just hack through the thicket, not thinking about the creatures that live in it. that is not a terrible thing! it isn’t. it’s a different way of approaching a problem, and it has different priorities. that’s okay. there are advantages and disadvantages on both sides, and where you come down is going to depend on your personal values.

okay we’ve spiraled far and away from my original point, but let’s circle back: i was talking about class.

I think it’s undeniable that class, birthright, fate etc. are some of the driving forces of thematic conflict in mdzs, and the way each character interacts with those forces reveals a lot about themselves and also about the larger themes of fate, chance, and what it means to be righteous and good and how that is and isn’t rewarded. a lot of the tragedy of mdzs (the tragedy that isn’t caused by direct aggression on the part of one group or another) stems from the injustices and slights that people suffered due to their lot in life. it isn’t fair. none of it is fair! we sympathize with jin guangyao because we recognize that what he suffered was unconscionable, even if we don’t excuse him. i sympathize A Lot with xue yang as well for similar reasons, though I understand that’s a harder sell. this is a story focused on the mistakes of an entrenched, aging gentry and the effects that those mistakes had on their children, and a lot of it has to do with prejudice based in class and birth status. whether the prejudice was the true reason or whether it was just a convenient excuse, the fact remains that the systems in place rewarded and protected the people in power who used it to cling to that power. mdzs is also a story of how the circumstances of one’s life can offer you impossible choices that you cannot abstain from, and it asks us to be compassionate to the people who made terrible choices in terrible times. it’s about the inherent complexity in all things! that sometimes, there are no good choices, and i don’t know, i’d like to think that people would show me compassion if I had to make the choices some of these characters did. not just wei wuxian, mind you, every single one of them. except jin guangshan because I Do Hate Him sorry. and i guess wen ruohan. i think that’s it.

good. GOD this is clocking in at //checks notes -- just over 5k. 8′D *stuffs some weeds into my mouth like the clown i am*

(ko-fi? :’D *lies down*)

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angels-fluff · 4 years ago

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Ok, so I noticed that your requests are open. I'm in dire need for more Husk x Reader. So, really, anything is cool with me. Especially fluff XD

Sorry that this took so long, I hope you enjoy it still! I apologize ahead of time as it's been a while since I've written a one-shot or at all, really. But I love Husk so here you go!

NOTE: This version of Husk is based off of a fan theory on his backstory where Husk fought in the Vietnam war. In this headcanon for him, he had been engaged when he was drafted. His fiance became upset that he had left her and cheated on him with his childhood best friend. Husk then drank himself to death and ended up in hell and made a deal with Alastor, at first asking that he take away his ability to love, something Al was unable to do for him. So that's a bit of this version of Husk's story! Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stuck...

It was getting late and while he knew he needed to turn in soon for some rest, Husk was still wide awake. It was hard being so far away from home, so far away from his fiance and family. Even with that aside, this war had been violent and letting your guard down for even a second could result in tragedy. Perhaps he’d instead offer to stay on look out while the other soldiers rested. Or maybe he just needed to unwind, read some mail and try to get some shuteye anyway?

Looking over to the small stack of still sealed envelopes, Husk shuffled through them a bit, stopping on a specific one that made his heart both melt and ache at the same time. Admiring the way their handwriting flowed across the front of the envelope. The one thing that he knew for sure in all of this uncertainty was that (y/n) would always be able to ease his nerves no matter where he was. Just thinking about them was enough to soothe him and put his mind to rest even for just a few minutes.

That was when he decided to open it the letter that he had been holding onto for the past couple of days. Eagerly, he opened the letter and carefully unfolded the pages that had been compacted to fit.

“Dearest Husk,

I hope you are doing well, I’ve been keeping busy myself. It’s been really hard to go on each day without you here. I started a new job, I’ve been enjoying it quite a bit.

I don’t really know how to tell you this, but I have moved on. I started spending quite a bit of time with Jimmy, I know you two have been best friends since childhood, so please don’t take this out on him. He’s kept me company when I get lonely now that you’re gone. He treats me good and I’ve fallen head over heels in love with him.

I’m sorry, but I just can’t keep my life on hold, waiting for you forever. It’s time for me to move on from all of that and pick my life back up.

I hope you’ll understand,

(y/n).”

As his eyes continued to reread each line, trying to make sense of the letter that he had just read, Husk felt his heart sinking further with every word. A small, emotionless laugh escaped from his mouth, unsure of if he should be more sad or angry.

This couldn’t be happening, this war couldn’t be taking them away from him too. He didn’t have a choice! He was drafted, it’s not like he could just say no to the government, not without serious repercussions. And his childhood best friend nonetheless, had he always had eyes for them? Even before he was drafted into this damn war?

His chest was getting tight, it felt hard to breathe, this couldn’t be happening, not now when they were what he needed the most. How could he possibly keep going after this? To keep living a life that wasn’t even worth living? A life where everyone left him no matter what he did to try to make it up to them?

“Husk! Sweetheart, wake up!” (y/n)’s voice called out, causing further frustration. Why was he hearing their voice? Why did he have to be this distraught over one person?

“Husk wake up, you’re having another nightmare, hun.” Their voice rang out once more.

That’s when the feline’s eyes snapped open, sitting over the demon with a worried expression on their face, sat (y/n). They were brushing back the messy fur that lay on top of his head as he breathed heavily.

“Hun, did you have another one of those nightmares? ...About her?” they asked, concern still laced in their voice.

“I uh-sorry.” Husk cleared his voice, sitting up and gently resting a paw on his partner’s hand to try to reassure them that he would be alright.

“Yeah, it was another like that, but…It was you.” He admitted, albeit sheepishly. “And before you go and freak yourself out, I know you’re not like that. I’m not saying you are, I just…” His other paw reached up to rest his face in, frustrated. “It felt real. The damn nightmares always do.” Husk huffed quietly.

“I know what you mean though, nightmares like that usually do. It’s what makes them so scary, you don’t know what’s real and what isn’t. You don’t even realize that it’s all just a dream most of the time until after you already wake up.”

Husk nodded as (y/n) spoke, it was true, all he could really do was endure that same pain all over again until he had woken up and realized that it wasn’t real. While the feline was well aware that his partner wasn’t the type to leave in such a cruel way or that he was no longer out on the battle field, there was still fear there. Fear and pain from the past that occassionally still ate at him, one that not even alcohol could really cure, even temporarily. The fear of losing (y/n) and having to go through another heartbreak would be way too much for him. His last heartbreak had been so hard that he had not only lost his life in the end, but also caused him to beg and plead with a certain overlord to simply just remove his ability to love. That, was not something that even Alastor was able to grant him, ultimately resulting in indulging further into his alcoholism.

(Y/n) knew their lover’s background and had quickly picked up on these fears, especially when the post traumatic stress nightmares had really started becoming more and more frequent for him. Yet they had been there by his side ever since they had fallen into hell.

“Well, I can’t change what I do in your nightmares, but I can prove that this isn’t a continuation.” (Y/n) smiled and left a small kiss on Husk’s cheek, his fur gently tickling them as they did so. The demon’s shoulders fell a bit, seemingly easing any tension that he had previously bottled up from the stress of the morning.

He uncovered his face, offering a small smile and a little nudge. “That’s definitely you this time.” he chuckled a bit.

“I brought you some coffee, the way I made mine last time! Because you said you liked it.” (Y/n) gestured over to the nightstand where a mug rested, filled with hazelnut mocha coffee, steam gently rising from it to show it was freshly brewed.

“Oh-Thanks. I’m surprised you remembered that I liked it.” Husk decided to let it sit a few more minutes before trying to drink it. The last thing he needed was to burn his tongue off despite admittedly being rather excited for the drink that his partner had made for him.

“Of course I remembered!” (y/n) smiled, their response making Husk chuckle once again. “And Husk?”

“Hm?” Gently, he picked up the mug to take a small sip and test the temperature.

“I know what she did to you, I know that it’s hard for you to do this sometimes, the whole relationship thing...But I promise that you’re stuck with me. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I’ve been really happy being with you, I love sharing stories with each other and you rolling your eyes at my jokes and you making me random drinks to try so you can laugh at me when I make weird faces about it. I love it more than anything and I wouldn’t trade it for anything, not even a ticket straight to heaven. Being here with you, I know it’s where I’m supposed to be and you can tell me that I can leave all you want, but I don’t want to. I want you, I want us, I want this.” (Y/n) held onto Husk’s paw, giving it a squeeze.

Husk set his mug down once again and leaned over to give (y/n) a small kiss.

“I want you too (y/n), as long as you want to be here. So I guess you’re stuck with me too then?” he smiled, the demon absolutely melting as his partner looked back at him.

“Till the end of time.”

#husk x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #oneshot #x reader #hazbin hotel husk

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keity-devil · 3 years ago

Text

@breathlessmorro I said I will do it, I did it. [I have 2 more. But, they are not very good (maybe not yet), I am not sure even with this one.]. But Enjoy!

The Closet

"Hey, did anyone see Morro?"

Kai had been looking for him for several hours. He told himself at first that maybe he went to get some air, as he usually did when he wanted to be alone, but it was already too long if that was true. He was nowhere in the Monastery, and worries arose.

"No. Why?" Cole answered, stopping the video game.

"Hey!!" Jay yelled at him.

"I can't find it anywhere." He ignored Jay's outraged scream. "And one of my hoodie is gone too. I think Morro took it. ...Again." It didn't bother him, he thought it was cute that Morro had this tick to take his hoodie, especially since Kai's clothes are a little bigger and wider than Morro's body.

"No, sorry buddy. I didn't see him." Jay restarts the game. "Hey! It's not fair." Cole yells at him.

"What you did before wasn't- HA! I won!!"

Kai rolled his eyes and left the room.

'Where can he be? Master Wu didn't see him either. And yet, he is calm about it.'

Kai enters Morro's room again. He hoped he might be back or find something. Kai step slowly inside. Everything seemed in its place. However, there was something. The door to Morro's closet was slightly open. He went to her. When he opened it...

"Morro?!" Kai had found him. In the closet.

"O-oh.. Hey, Kai." Morro said slightly embarrassed. Kai noticed that Morro was wearing his missing hoodie.

"Hey, hey. Are you okay?" It wasn't a good sign. He sat down at his level.

"Yes.. yes. Yes I am. Mhm."

Kai had taken his hands in his. "You are cold."

"Yes? When am I not?" Some of his black hair had fallen out in front of him.

"Yeah.. And what are you doing in the closet?! I've been looking for you all day!"

"Uh... I was, arranging my clothes?"

"Sitting in the closet? No chance."

Morro was silent, looking down. Kai had time to analyze his face, but it was slightly dark, so the chances were small.

"Come out of the closet." He said calmly.

Morro came out, and then he saw.

"You cried. And it looks like you didn't get much sleep. Why?"

"Hm? Oh no, no, no. I didn't... cry." He tried to smile.

"Don't lie to me. It's obvious on your face that it is. What happened?"

Morro stared blankly. "Nothing happened."

"Don't lie to me-" The missing hoodie was thrown in front of his face. "Morro!"

"What?! I gave it back to you!"

"I didn't ask for that. What's wrong with you?! You don't usually throw it at me like that or give it to me voluntarily. Normally I should run after you to get it back or something. What's bothering you?"

"Nothing is bothering me." He told him tightly.

"You're lying, again. You know you can't lie to me. I know your personality."

Morro looked at him, but not in his eyes as he usually did. Morro turned to take his black jacket from the chair by the window, and passed Kai as he left the room. One could hear the footsteps of the Wind Master become a run. Kai was confused, and he was already worried even more.

"What the hell happened?"

He looked around, trying to think what might have bothered Morro to behave like that. This was interrupted by a small strip of loose plastic. He went back to the door, it was Lloyd, who had opened a candy.

"Lloyd!" The blonde stopped walking at the sound of his name.

"Oh, hey Kai." Hee greets him with a smile.

"Hey. You went to the store with Morro last night, didn't you?"

"Yeah?? Why?"

"He's acting weird."

"Weird in the sense that he doesn't know how to use almost any means of technology?"

"No. Not in that weird sense, Lloyd."

"Okay. Explain."

"I found him in the closet today, with my hoodie on. And he threw it in my face! Morro didn't give it to me willingly or threw it in front of me! And on his face it was obvious that he cried and didn't sleep last night. And he didn't look me in the eye either. Did something happen outside yesterday? "

Lloyd was trying to figure out if anything was happening yesterday as he processed what Kai had just told him.

"..Oh..." Lloyd said after a while. One of shock and a wave of sadness in him.

"What?!"

"Uh.. Did you remember a few weeks or days ago those guys who bonded with you two because you're together?"

"Yes. I wanted to set them on fire there."

"Well, we met with them yesterday. And... they kind of bonded to Morro." He took a short break. "Let's just say the words got to him harshly."

"What kind of words?"

"Uh.."

"Lloyd, say it. I want to help him. And he won't tell me anything. You know how stubborn he can be. So please, tell me EVERYTHING that happened."

"Okay. Well..."

~~ - ~~

"Oh, look who's here. The Man of the Dead."

"I think you're kidding.." Morro said angrily.

"Oh, I see you're not with the guy in the red. Did he leave you?"

"Not at all. Now leave." Morro replied, smiling angrily.

"But I just came!" He approach Morro. "And you have nothing to be here. You're dead."

"Hey. Leave." Lloyd said firmly.

The guy ignores the blonde. "Maybe who knows, he lets you be with him just for 'fun'. And in reality, he doesn't want you. I mean seriously, who would want a former ghost who cursed a city and traumatized his best friend, Like a boyfriend? I certainly don't. And I don't think He will. I bet he's still dating that red-haired, hot girl, Skylor. Hm? Don't you think so?"

Morro felt his hands tremble. He didn't know if the jealousy or the harsh words that made him self-esteem in this relationship would slowly evaporate. His heart was pounding. His eyes were still on the guy. He showed no sign of weakness.

"I'm sure he'll leave you with the next mistake you make." With that, they left laughing.

Lloyd looked at Morro. "Hey, don't listen to them. They just want to fill your mind with nonsense. Kai cares about you. He wouldn't use you, hurt you or cheat. You know that."

Morro smiled at Lloyd, a slightly fake one. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Now come on, I promised you a bag of candy."

"Oh yes!!" Lloyd remembered his promise.

However, Morro's mind kept thinking about what was thrown in front of him.

~~ - ~~

Kai looked at Lloyd as if he were a ghost or something.

"WHAT?!"

"Easy! Calm, calm." Lloyd could see the fire burning between Kai's fingers.

"I am CALM."

"You don't... see that much." Kai wanted to leave, but Lloyd took his hand. "Before you make a fool of yourself, especially since you're nervous, calm down and think clearly before you do or say anything, especially to Morro. You two are like two burning matches that ran into gasoline."

Kai took a few deep breaths. "I'm calm. Can I leave now?"

"After drinking water. COLD, water."

"You're kidding- Ok. O K."

Lloyd followed Kai into the kitchen. The blonde looked at him intently. He knew Kai's character a lot, if he didn't calm him down now, a big fire would come out.

"Now I can?" He asked more calmly.

Lloyd smiled briefly. "Yes."

------

Morro was on the roof of the Monastery. The wind was beginning to spin around him. A cold, hard wind that made his hands cold.

'Maybe they're right. I'm a former villain and a ex-ghost! Kai is the good guy here. Eventually everything will end.. No..? Or you'll find someone worthy of you. Maybe he's already found one. Skylor.. Why I am alive?'

Kai had found him quickly this time. He climb carefully on the roof. He could feel the cold wind almost taking his breath away.

"Morro." Kai said his name calmly. "I know what happened last night when you went shopping with Lloyd."

The brunette didn't say a word or move. Kai's footsteps came closer until he reached him. He sit.

"Hey. Everything those guys said is completely false. Clear? I wouldn't leave you, seriously. They don't know you, I do."

Kai had taken his hand in his. It was cold. Kai took the other one as well. He had used his powers to warm them, but the wind was still cold and strong. He knew he wouldn't be able to warm him up like that.

"Calm down. Forget everything they said." Kai told him. He tried to get an answer, but everything seemed to be in vain.

Kai lit a small flame in his hand. Morro looked at her for a few seconds, and a small gust of wind had appeared beside her, causing her to move.

"I'm sorry..." Morro said. "Just.. what they said was true. I shouldn't be here. I was a ghost! What am I looking for a living again?"

"A new chance at life." Kai told him. The flame in his hand grew larger. "That's why. And I won't let you go."

"Pfft- am I caught in the net?"

"Bet you are." Morro leaned his head on Kai's shoulder. The gust of wind had caused the fire to explode, leaving small sparks to disintegrate in the air. Kai's hand reached into his partner's black hair like the void. "Your hair is annoyingly long." Kai told him.

"Heh.. you know why I let him grow."

"Yeah, yeah I know. To piss me off more." In fact, he really liked Morro's hair, he could do a lot with it.

"Bingo."

The wind, which had previously been cold and harsh, had turned into a pleasant, calm breeze.

"But I don't understand. Why did you hide in the closet?" Kai asked curiously.

"Oh, a little childhood habit. When I was little and Wu left me alone at the Monastery, there were times when I heard strange sounds that scared me. So I hid/sat in the closet until he got home. Heh, it was full of blankets, so it was soft. I was sleeping there."

Kai said nothing. Now he had another new thing from Morro's life on his list.

"How about you don't try to kill those guys." Morro said suddenly.

"Why not? It's worth it."

"Kai. Cherry Bom, no. Not now."

"But when then? I'm sure we can make a human barbecue beyond the city."

"When they not expected." Morro rose to his feet, stepping forward. He reached the edge of the roof. Kai looked at him a little scared. Morro dropped.

"Morro!" Kai looked down. He expected to see something serious in red, but he had only seen a beginning of laughter.

"You just didn't think- Oh My!!" Morro laughed when he saw his partner's expression. It floated lightly in the air with the help of the wind. He touched the ground behind his feet.

"I'll catch you and mess with you for that!!" Kai jumped off the roof, running after Morro. "I hate you!!"

"I love you just as much!" He yelled at Kai as he picked up speed.

#ninjago #morro #ninjago morro #kai #ninjago kai #destinyshipping #lloyd #ninjago lloyd #angst #my written #kai x morro #cole #jay #half proude of this #destinyshipping ninjago #mini fic

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tres-spades-hotel · 4 years ago

Note

I am not sure you are taking requests or not, but I got this idea and I really wished you could write something for it, 'about Eisuke falling in love with his secretary and make it a bit dramatic'. I know it may be a lot to ask but all your written works have been so beautiful, I just had to ask you. No problem if you couldn't do it :).

Hi there! I’m so glad you sent a request! Yes my requests are open, I only just realised that I haven’t put it anywhere on my blog that they are open... oops! Anyway, I’ve never written a secretary story before so this was definitely a challenge, thanks to @flatsuke and @leoamber66 for helping me find a solid plot to use. And thanks to @lin-ful for just being amazing! This story is 8000+ words so that’s why it took some time to get this to you. I hope this is what you wanted, if not I hope you at least appreciate the time and effort I took to writing this. Enjoy!

Keep Me By Your Side

They say patience is a fool’s game. Waiting for love will weigh your heart down heavily like an anchor in the ocean. But saying ‘I love you’ to Eisuke Ichinomiya will get you nowhere fast. What does he know about love? Kindness? Happiness?

He was young when he was made CEO of the Ichinomiya Group. He was even younger when he lost his mother to the scythe of death, when he lost his sister to a different, better, whole, and lovable family. When he lost his father to the mist of uncertainty. What could a man filled with emptiness from a traumatic childhood, know about love?

He’s arrogant but he’s suave. A businessman through and through. Ruthless and cunning. Intelligent and sarcastic. Sweet-toothed with hidden compassion. A passionate hater of peas. A wonderful smile when he is genuine. And believe me, I have only ever seen this smile once in my whole career.

He never gets drunk and he spends more time at his auctions than with women. No woman other than me has stayed longer than a night at his penthouse. No other woman knows that Eisuke prefers warm weather to cold. No other woman knows how he likes his coffee: sweet using three sugar cubes and milk. I still remember the first time I made him coffee.

‘It’s adequate.’

‘Really?!’

‘Do it again. It needs more milk.’

‘Okay!’

I remember when he told me about his life. I remember his touch when he wiped away dewy tears. Telling me that it was a long time ago. That he just wants the truth. Closure.

That’s why, as his secretary, I have to be there for him. Because Mr Ichinomiya, founder, and owner of the Tres Spades Hotels around the globe, the mastermind behind the black market auctions and my boss, has brought me down to my knees…

In love.

I am in love with Eisuke Ichinomiya.

I want to shout it out to the world.

Scream it at the top of my lungs as if his name is my breath.

But I can’t.

Because I am only his secretary.

‘Here’s your schedule for today. After lunch, you have a meeting with a potential investor for the new Tres Spades Restaurants. He wants to propose different menus and VIP arrangements plus staff requirements for the restaurant in Sydney, Australia.’ I hand Eisuke his tablet and a folder filled with paperwork.

‘Hm. And the auctions?’

‘All set. Baba is still looking for the specific item that you requested but we have plenty of other materials to sell tonight. Soryu has sent the invitations and Mamoru will get back to you about the increasing police activity here lately. And Ota… well he’s being Ota.’

‘Pfft, of course he is.’ Eisuke looks up at me.

‘And Luke?’

‘He nearly fondled my collarbones… again. But he is ready to proceed with the surgery this week.’

Eisuke narrows his eyes at me.

‘Tell Luke to come see me before then. And you know better than to visit Luke immediately after a surgery.’

I rub the back of my head nervously.

‘Well, you told me to see him right away so… I was just following orders.’ Eisuke sighs in response.

‘Oh! And Luke told me to tell you that he needs another x-ray of your collarbones.’

‘Why? I already gave him one a few months ago.’ The annoyance is written all over his features.

‘Because he left it in the other clinic in New York. Luke doesn’t have an x-ray here in Tokyo.’

He unconsciously pouts at his laptop screen.

‘Isn’t one enough?’

‘Apparently not…’ It takes everything in me not to stroke his head to comfort him.

‘What about your collarbones?’

‘When we got back, while you were still in London, Luke did a medical examination on me so he got an x-ray of mine.’

‘Remind me to ban him from using the x-ray machine.’ I reply with a giggle instead of words.

‘Vivian.’ He says with urgency.

I salute military style.

‘Yes sir!’

‘… You would make a clumsy soldier.’

‘Hey!’

‘If there’s nothing else, get me coffee and leave.’

I bow and attend to my duties. After giving Eisuke his coffee, I head down to the lobby to find Mr Kenzaki. The lobby is busy as always with staff running around attending to the whims of the guests. New guests checking in and old guests leaving satisfied by their stay. The Tres Spades never disappoints.

I spot Mr Kenzaki by the reception. I catch his eye and he walks towards me by the penthouse elevator.

‘Ah Vivian, is there something you need?’

‘Yes, the Boss will need the conference room after lunch. We will need it for a few hours.’

‘Of course, I will have it set up. Do you need the projector?’

I think for a moment.

‘I’m not entirely sure but set it up anyway. Better to have it on and not use it, than need it when it’s off.’

He smiles warmly at me.

‘I understand. I am glad to see that you have become a capable and worthy secretary to Mr Ichinomiya.’ I blush at his teasing words.

‘Thank you. But we both know that Boss would choose you over me any day of the week.’

‘Haha, I’m not quite sure he is that attached.’ I highly doubt that actually, but I don’t tell him that.

‘The guest is Mr Lance and he will be arriving in a few hours. Make sure the lobby is prepared. Boss and I will come down to greet him.’

‘Very well. Make sure to take breaks every now and again Vivian.’

‘Yes, I will.’ Mr Kenzaki has always been obedient and thoughtful. I admire his dedication to Eisuke and the others plus he was a huge help to me when I first started working at the Tres Spades. He’s almost like an uncle or a grandfather (I’m sorry Mr Kenzaki! I promise you’re still young!) to me and the others.

I return to the elevator, swipe my key card, press no. 51 and watch the metal doors close. Turning around, I watch the outside world grow smaller and smaller as the elevator pulls up. There was a time when I was bewildered by the sheer size of this hotel. Over 50 floors of suites and boutiques and shops and the auctions all bundled into one.

Funnily enough, I worked with Eisuke’s adopted father, Akira Ichinomiya before I came to work for Eisuke. Akira took me in when I was first starting out in business and he taught me the ropes. He introduced me to Eisuke a little after Akira retired and, although he retired, he still worked within the Ichinomiya Group to make things a little easier for Eisuke. We met a few times over the years before Akira decided to send me to Japan to work for Eisuke as his secretary instead. I was more than miffed to hear of his decision without consulting me, especially since we had gotten so close with each other. I lost my grandfather when I was young so Akira ended up filling in that void.

Akira assured me that Eisuke would teach me more about how the Ichinomiya Group runs and I couldn’t say more. With my salary increased and bags packed, I got into the private jet and waited to see my new boss.

Looking back, I think I put up a bit too much of a fuss because Eisuke became a wonderful teacher, and a great friend. He listened to me and my problems even though he never needed to.

‘I have to make sure that my employees are at their best. Physically and mentally. Hearing your small problems is nothing to the value you are as my secretary.’

His words back then bring a whole new meaning to me now. I hope he means them in the way that I think they mean. That he cares about me.

A vibration courses through me as my pager goes off. I pluck it out of my belt and answer it.

‘Hello?’

‘Vivian! Where are you? Come to the penthouse! I have something to show you!’ Baba’s excited voice reminds me of a child but I wait to see what he has in store.

‘Ta da!’ Baba’s jazz hands do nothing to appease the sight.

A large statue of Venus towers over us all as we gape at it.

‘How did you get it in here?’ I ask, bewildered.

‘That’s a secret.’

‘Did you break it in half?’ Ota asks next.

‘No! This is priceless!’

‘Then how did you bring it into the lounge?’ Soryu says.

‘That is also a secret!’

‘He used the helicopter and the window.’ Mamoru mumbles from the couch.

‘Oooooohhhhhh’ Ota and I say at the same time. Baba pouts in response.

‘Mamo! Don’t go giving away my secrets!’

‘That’s not my job. That’s Ayase‘s job.’

‘This isn’t what I asked for Baba.’ Eisuke glares at him after inspecting the statue.

‘Ah yes, well. The item belongs to a Mr Jason Taylor Lance. I believe his father is coming to the hotel today.’

‘He is.’ I say.

‘Fine, I’ll get it from him instead.’

‘What is this thing you’re looking for anyway Eisuke?’ Ota asks.

‘It’s a collection of gems found at a temple in Egypt. Rumours of the gems suggest that a whole manner of good things will happen to those who possess them. I figured they would go for a very high price at the auctions.’ Eisuke smirks.

‘They were unearthed a few years ago and have found their way to Japan.’ Eisuke explains. Baba sighs.

‘Well I need more time to find the exact location.’

‘Fine.’

‘Ota can you appraise the statue for me?’

‘Okay.’ He goes back to his room while I prepare coffee and tea. When he comes back, he puts on white rubber gloves and uses a magnifying glass around the statue. I check my emails, replying to some and deleting others when Ota quips:

‘It’s fake.’

‘WHAT! Are you sure!?’

‘Yeah. It was created with cheap materials. An amateur’s work.’ He says it in such a matter-of-fact tone that I don’t comprehend it for a moment.

‘You would never know just looking at it.’

‘Yeah but if you sell it then the person buying it would most likely be an art collector and they appraise everything.’ He sits down and takes out his phone.

‘Unlucky Baba. Just like your sex life.’

‘Hey!’

‘Baba take that thing out.’ Eisuke orders.

‘Alright, alright. Sor help me out.’

‘Why me?’ Soryu and Baba heave the statue out of the penthouse.

Eisuke and I have lunch and then we venture out to the lobby. Just as we exit the elevator, Mr Lance enters the hotel. He is a big man wearing a white suit and a silver chain around his neck. His bald head shines in the glow of the lights and I can hear his shoes squeak against the marbled floor. He spots us and smiles.

‘Mr Lance, I am glad you could make it.’ Eisuke plasters on his signature business smile, holds his hand out for a shake and I bow from beside him.

‘Eisuke, please call me Connor. If we are going to be business partners, we should at least start with first names.’ He wraps both Eisuke and I in a bear hug and I nearly gag from the heavy cologne smell. Mr Lance is overly-friendly and I can already tell that this meeting is going to be a long one.

When he lets us go, Eisuke straightens his suit.

‘Please follow me to the conference room.’ Eisuke walks away while I turn to Mr Lance.

‘Shall I carry your briefcase for you, sir?’ I ask politely.

‘Of course, please.’ He looks at me for a moment. During my time as Eisuke’s secretary, I have met many individuals who have looked at me in inappropriate ways but Eisuke is always there to make it clear my place by his side. Still, I always stand my ground. Even now, as Mr Lance studies my face when he suddenly gestures to the case on the floor and follows Eisuke.

I’m not sure what that look was on his face but something tells me that this meeting will twist horribly.

‘Of course the staff will be perfect in their presentation but I believe that…’

Mr Lance, despite his ‘we-should-use-first-names’ greeting, is actually quite the businessman. He and Eisuke have been discussing the chain of Tres Spade restaurants and how to profit the most without hindering their guest’s experience.

‘The Tres Spades always delivers in high quality standards. Our guests and what they desire are our top priority.’

‘I have no doubt. Reviews of your hotels are 100% which I completely agree with. But if we could…’

Although, they are at a stale-mate right now. Neither is willing to backdown which is making me nervous. Mr Lance is more insistent on getting his way and so is Eisuke.

‘Sir?’ I finally pipe up from my corner in the room.

‘Hm?’ Eisuke looks at me.

‘May I suggest something?’

‘I hope you do not mind.’ Eisuke says to the man opposite him.

‘Please, a second opinion is always valuable.’ Mr Lance says, nodding in my direction.

‘Well, I suggest that the guests are given a form to personally write down any changes they want or need to the menus. This way, waiters will be more efficient obtaining orders and will limit any commotion that may arise.’

‘Paper forms will get lost or damaged very quickly in a kitchen.’ Eisuke says.

‘Hm, electronic tablets? With the entire menu and a writing stylus or Bluetooth keyboard to use.’

‘The keyboard would be too bulky on a table for guests.’

‘Why not use both? Paper and technology alike. Reservations will need specifications on which apparition the guests would like to use. Spontaneous guests first arriving will be asked immediately before seating if they require the keyboard or stylus.’ Mr Lance suggests.

‘That would be agreeable for me.’ Eisuke says.

‘I also.’ Mr Lance responds.

I breath a quiet sigh of relief. Mr Lance looks at me again before turning to Eisuke.

‘Before I sign this contract, I would like to add something to this.’

‘Such as?’

‘You see, I have a son, who I assume is the same age as your secretary?’

I glance at Eisuke briefly before saying hesitantly, ‘I am 28 years old, sir.’

‘Ah perfect! I have a son who could use a woman like you by his side.’ At those words, both Eisuke and I look at each other. He glares at Mr Lance who does not seem to notice.

‘You are an impeccable woman. In just a few hours, I have seen your beauty, your perfect manners and now your incredible intelligence as a woman working in the business sector of society. I believe you would be a wonderful wife to my son and an even better daughter-in-law to my wife and I.’

‘What are you suggesting, Mr Lance?’ Eisuke could be a snake he spat out those words so viciously.

Mr Lance does not break eye contact with Eisuke. Actually, it seems as if he is not intimidated at all by Eisuke, which, despite his words, is impressive.

‘I will sign this contract. Only if your secretary agrees to marry my son.’

‘That is outrageous, as if I would agree to such a thing.’

‘I am not asking you, Mr Ichinomiya. I am asking her.’

There is so much tension in the air that I can see it. Literally. So if I don’t agree, Mr Lance will walk out of the project. But if I do… While there are other investors, Mr Lance has a large influence on the economy, just as much as Eisuke does. He’s too important to deny.

Maybe I should convince him to sign without the marriage?

‘If I may, Mr Lance, I am hardly worthy of being part of your family. I have no wealth which you would consider rich, neither do I have many connections or the reputation to be married into your family. The public and the media would, quite frankly, have a field day about this marriage which could result in backlash on your family and mine. Please, reconsider this.’ I think half way through, my reasoning became a plea.

‘My secretary has never met your son and neither have I. She has worked for me and my company for years. Her well-being is my responsibility.’

Mr Lance thinks over our arguments calmly, as if he has done this a hundred times to other employers and their employees.

‘Very well. Why don’t I have my son stay at the hotel for a week? They can get to know each other and when she agrees to the marriage, then I will sign the contract. Until then,’ he pushes the folder away, ‘I will not sign. This is final.’

He gets up, leaving his business card, and walks out whistling to himself.

* (EISUKE’S POV)

‘That bastard really believes that he can have whatever he wants just because I need him to invest in the project.’

‘Did he really ask you for Vivian’s hand in marriage?’

‘To his son?’

‘…..’ I don’t answer, I only glare at Baba and Ota who hide behind Vivian and Soryu.

Mr Lance has attempted something that I have never seen in my whole career. A marriage proposal during a business deal? Mixing his personal life with his work is extremely amateur for a man who has been in business for over 30 years.

‘That man’s head must have a few screws loose.’ Mamoru says in an exasperated tone.

‘So what did you say Vivian?’ Ota asks.

‘Well, I tried to tell him that I wouldn’t be a good match for his family but he wouldn’t listen to us. His son is going to be staying in the hotel and I have to attend to him.’ She says, clutching her tablet to her chest.

‘Eisuke, what is he planning?’ Soryu is right to be suspicious. Even I believe that there is something amiss here.

‘Soryu, Mamoru, find out everything you can about this man and the Lancer’s Group.’

‘Lancer’s Group?’

‘Mr Lance’s last name turned into-‘

‘A joke.’ Mamoru finishes her sentence. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘Criminal records, illegal activity, anything. Baba see if you can find something in their estates. I want to know what they have in their possession.’

‘Uh, okay Boss…’

‘Ota I want to know what the public think about the Lance family.’

‘Sure.’

I get up from the couch and head to the stairs leading to my penthouse suite.

‘Eisuke, what about the auctions tonight?’

‘The IVC and the auctions will continue as usual. Vivian, coffee.’ I say before turning around and ascending the stairs. I hear Vivian’s high heels against the floor as she rushes to me.

As soon as I get inside, I sit at my office desk and begin researching. If the Lancer Group is as influential as the Ichinomiya Group, they will have more than a few skeletons in their closets. The smell of coffee fills the room as she makes my daily beverage. For a second, I suddenly imagine Vivian making coffee for someone else. Mr Jason Taylor Lance. With his hands on her hips and his lips at her neck, attempting to distract her from leaving. It disgusts me that another man besides me would have Vivian by his side.

I feel myself get up from my chair and wander to Vivian quickly. She pours milk and three sugar cubes into the mug. Her waist feels small in my hands. The hair on her head smells like argan oil. Vivian is actually a small woman, her head is just below my shoulders with high heels on. Her long dark hair is straight with a braided crown around the back of her head. She wears a black suit and a purple blouse plus I notice the thin platinum band around her right ring finger that I gave her when we first met.

I hear her gasp at my touch and she turns around in my arms. Her eyes are wide open with her eyebrows raised.

‘Eisuke?’

Eisuke. She usually says my name when we’re alone. When she’s in work mode, she calls me Boss, like Baba unfortunately, but I still remember how casually she said it the first time.

‘Eisuke, you’ve been working for hours. Take a break for a few minutes, please? What will I do if you faint from exhaustion?’

My hands cup her chubby face. Her trembling fingers hold onto my hands. The only man I see reflecting in her eyes, is me.

I can’t imagine being without Vivian.

Wait. What am I thinking? Or rather what am I doing?!

I let go of her face and turn to leave the room. Her short arms suddenly wrap around my waist as she desperately holds on.

‘Eisuke, I don’t want to leave you.’ Her whisper is enough for me.

But why do I care so much for her? Have I become attached to this woman? This woman who Akira introduced to me? The same shy, bubbly personality who has stuck by my side for more years than I can count? No one has survived as my secretary or assistant ever but Vivian has held on.

What am I feeling inside? This warmth in my chest?

The next day, we prepare for Mr Lance’s son’s appearance at the hotel. Jason Taylor is a famous model and fashion designer who is also known for his… drunk antics.

‘Soryu, make sure your men keep an eye on Taylor and Vivian while they are together. If he dares to make a move on her, I want them to intercept immediately.’

Soryu, sitting in the chair opposite my desk, rubs his head and sighs with exasperation.

‘Eisuke, my men are mobsters, not bodyguards.’

‘Soryu.’

‘I know, I know. I care about her too you know, we all do. She’s the only woman willing to stick by you and your peculiarities.’

‘….’

‘My men will watch out for her and will keep me and you updated on their activities.’

‘Good. Have you found anything incriminating?’

‘There is something. Apparently, the Lance’s have a secret operation in Brazil. It might be money laundering.’

‘Hm, have your men take it. If it is money laundering, the evidence will move the scales in my favour.’ We share a knowing look when Baba’s loud voice booms outside the office door.

‘Boss! He’s here! Come on out!’ I sigh and stand up.

‘Looks like His Highness is in your territory.’

‘We’ll see how long he can stay on his pedestal.’

Vivian meets us in the penthouse lounge. I gave her the morning off to mentally prepare herself for the work that she will have to do. She wears a different outfit that she wears for work which makes me feel better inside.

‘Hey Vivian, why are you wearing that?’ Ota asks. She looks down at her suit then to me.

‘Because I’m still working.’

‘But he’s going to be your fiancé, shouldn’t you greet him looking a little sexier or something appealing?’

‘If you’re so desperate for a fiancée, why don’t you go greet him?’ I spit out at Ota who frowns at me.

‘Baba, Eisuke’s being mean!’

‘You kind of deserved it Ota.’ Baba says.

‘Damn I’m tired. Can we get going now?’ Mamoru yawns.

‘Slacker.’ I hear Soryu mutter under his breath.

‘What you say!?’

‘That’s enough. Vivian.’ I turn to leave and hear Vivian follow. The others grumble along to see who has made an enemy out of me.

Just as the elevator doors open, we hear loud noises and women screaming. In the centre of all attention is JT Lance, a known critic, womaniser, drunkard and an exceptional model and designer. He was already at the top when he was born, but we’ll see how far down to the bottom he falls when I’m done with him.

He seems to be signing autographs on paper and magazines and on women’s bodies as well. Arms, hands, necks, chest, he’ll put his name anywhere. A typical celebrity. He wears a golden chain similar to his father and an open shirt revealing his body.

The lobby quietens down as I step out.

‘Oh, it’s the King!’

‘The King?’

‘Eisuke Ichinomiya?!’

The staff try to handle the guests as much as they can while I stride over to the man receiving his room key.

‘Mr Jason Taylor? It’s a pleasure to meet you.’ I smile at him and shake his hand.

‘Eisuke Ichinomiya, the pleasure is all mine! My dad says good things about you.’

‘Does he now?’ I highly doubt that considering our last encounter.

‘It’s a bit too crowded here to talk. Please follow me to the VIP lounge.’

‘Lead the way.’

In the lounge, JT sits making small talk with Ota and Baba while a female staff member serves drinks. I see her blush as JT winks at her from his spot on the couch.

‘Do you have any tips on how to attract women?’

‘Baba has trouble keeping a woman’s attention for more than a second.’ Ota quips.

‘Haha, the first thing a woman sees in a man is his fashion sense. And yours… is a little less than average.’

‘What?!’

‘You look a tomato with a head, hands and feet. You need to look more manly and dignified.’ He waves his arms around, looking a buffoon. Baba frowns, lost in thoughts.

‘I assume you wear that red… thing daily. Red is a passionate colour and bold to be worn in broad day light. But too much passion turns women off quicker than a light switch. A man should wear blues or purples, like Ota and Eisuke or that scary looking man over there.’ He points to Soryu whose face doesn’t change or move in the slightest.

‘… Um, even that man over there in the grey suit is more manly than you.’ He indicates at Mamoru who smokes at the window.

‘Hmmm, so I need to change my suit? But I love this suit…’ Baba mumbles to himself helplessly as Ota falls over laughing.

I feel Vivian fidget beside me as she gleans the man attempting to take her away from me. JT changes his focus to Vivian.

‘So, this woman is the secretary my dad told me about? What is your name? You are certainly a beautiful gem among the dirt. Have you tried modelling? I’m sure my designs would look stunning on you.’ His insult generates a glare but, like his father, he does not notice.

‘My name is Vivian Grier and I am certain that I am just an average looking woman, sir.’

‘Oh please, you would look divine! And call me JT, it would be plain weird if my future wife calls me so formally.’ I feel my eye twitch at his casual words.

‘She is not your wife yet.’

‘That will be her decision, will it not?’

The tension increases with each passing moment as we size each other up. But Vivian cuts it like a sword slashing in the air.

‘Um, JT why don’t I show you around the hotel? Then you can relax in your suite. I still have work to do unfortunately but we can have dinner tonight in the restaurant if you would like.’ Her suggestion does nothing to quell the fiery rage that is slowly growing inside me.

His smile sickens me to my core.

‘I would be delighted to have that. Ota why don’t you come as well, we can discuss some new designs I’ve created.’

‘Sure. Don’t worry, the old man beside me won’t be coming along.’

‘Hey!’ Baba shouts out as usual. The four of them leave but not before Vivian pats my shoulder and says,

‘I’ll back in the penthouse in a bit, try not to exhaust yourself too much before I arrive.' She smirks and winks at me before rushing to the others.

‘You’re going to do what!?’ The words I didn’t want to hear leave Vivian’s mouth so simply that I shout at her in front of the others in the lounge. She flinches but continues.

‘JT is going to check out of the hotel tomorrow, and I will go with him. I’m going to agree to the marriage and stay with his family at their mansion.’

I can only glare at her, trying to dispel the unshakable resolve in her eyes. But she doesn’t look away nor does she back down.

‘Why?’

‘You and I both know that there is something not quite right here. They’re hiding a corpse underneath all that fame and money and I’m going to find out what.’

‘…..’

‘I know you have been investigating. I’m sure you’ll find the evidence we need but do it before the wedding. I…. One day, I want it to be you and me at the alter Eisuke. Truly.’

My eyes widen. Is she confessing to me? Now?

‘Soryu? Can I take Ryosuke and Samejima with me? For protection and friends to accompany me?’

‘Of course, they will protect with their lives Vivian.’ He takes his phone out and leaves to prepare his puppy and shark.

Vivian turns to me.

‘Eisuke, if I find anything then I will send it to you. And I promise I’ll come back. Come back to you.’

Vivian stands in front of me as the strong woman I know she is. She’s doing what needs to be done.

‘Money laundering.’

‘Huh?’

‘We have evidence that the Lance family is money laundering. Find me something related to it or something else I can use.’ I say. We look at each other for a moment then she smiles at me.

‘Okay.’

‘Good luck Vivian. We’ll be here if you need us.’ Baba pats her shoulder.

‘Don’t get yourself killed.’ Ota says from the couch.

‘Kid, don’t go doing anything stupid now.’ Mamoru puffs on his cigarette.

‘Thank you guys. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.’ She smiles and bows to us before turning around.

‘And Eisuke?’

‘What?’

‘On JT’s phone, I saw a message. It said… the body is ready to be disposed.’

‘A body?’

‘Mamoru get on this.’

‘Murder, huh?’

‘Well, he gives lousy advice on fashion anyway.’ Baba says.

‘He was right about your fashion sense though.’ Ota retorts.

‘Kid, send me that message as soon as you can.’

‘I’ll try.’ Vivian’s heels stride out of the lounge. Strong and confident, she leaves with my heart.

The engagement is called on TV. Mr Lance announces the engagement and we watch as Vivian and JT exchange rings.

‘Such a tacky ring.’ I mumble to myself.

‘Hey, what’s that silver ring on her other finger?’ Ota points to the monitor.

‘Boss, didn’t you give that to her a few years ago?’

‘Obviously. I have more class than he does in style.’ I smirk. So even on TV, she continues to belong to me.

‘Eisuke, Inui and Samejima have dropped Vivian off at the hotel. She’ll be here in a few minutes.’

‘Good.’ My fingers hover over the pager’s call button. It has been confirmed that the wedding will take place tomorrow. JT has booked the ballroom for a party and invited me to attend.

‘So they recorded this and sent it to the media everywhere huh?’ Ota asks.

‘Yes. It’s hard to believe that it’s been 2 weeks since Vivian left us.’

‘She hasn’t left us. As if Eisuke would let the kid go, not with her skills.’ Mamoru, who for once is not asleep, teases me.

‘You’re not snoozing, has the station finally fired you?’ Soryu retorts.

‘Stop it. You all are too noisy.’ I order before Mamoru can fight back.

‘How are the preparations for JT’s party tonight?’

‘Going as well as I can hope. I’ve called the media here to capture JT’s antics on screen.’

‘Seriously? Does he know?’

‘Even if he does he’s not shy to the camera. Everyone knows his drunk habits. I’ve ordered for security to be ready to take action against him if he tries something.’

‘Ota, Mamoru and I will be there as well so you can count on us Boss!’ Baba says with as much enthusiasm as a balloon.

‘Why do I have to be there?!’

‘Because the alcohol is for free. I won’t have to buy you any tonight.’

‘Fine. I guess I’ll go.’ Mamoru grumbles to himself by the window.

‘Hook, line, and sinker. Point 1 to Baba.’ He tips his ridiculous hat and winks at Mamoru who pretends to gag on his cigarette.

‘Sir?’ Kenzaki enters the lounge with the woman I’ve been expecting to see since she left.

‘Miss Vivian has returned.’ His smile tells me that he has been missing Vivian as much as the rest of us.

‘Hey everyo-‘

‘VIVIAN!’

‘THANK GOD!’

‘GET US COFFEE PLEASE!’

Vivian jumps behind Kenzaki as the three men throw themselves at her. It is true that we’ve been miserable without her coffee. We have been living off of room service and Soryu’s tea.

‘I can’t believe you guys really missed me that much. I was gone for 2 weeks!’ She hands out the mugs and I sniff the coffee. It smells wonderful and for once, everyone is quiet in the lounge.

‘Would you like some Mr Kenzaki?’ Vivian asks.

‘No thank you, you can make me some another time. I have some work to do so I will leave you to it.’ He strokes her head like a father and leaves.

‘Vivian, upstairs.’ Still holding my mug and picking up Vivian’s bag, I climb the stairs with her in tow.

We sit beside each other when she looks up and smiles before taking out her tablet.

‘Even though I’ve been away, I’m still your secretary Eisuke. I’ve responded to all your emails and contacted everyone involved with the project. Mr Lance is going to sign the contract tomorrow after the wedding and-‘

‘Are you okay?’ I ask.

‘Hm, what?’

‘Did he do anything to you?’

‘No, not really. Despite the engagement, he hasn’t touched me. I thought he was seeing other women since he keeps going in and out of the mansion but I think it’s something else.’

‘Yes, the coordinates Soryu’s puppy sent is an office. It’s filled with counterfeit money.’ Vivian, Inui and Samejima were able to gain the site of Mr Lance’s operations from JT’s car’s automatic navigation system. The Ice Dragons stormed the place with Soryu and found over $200 million in cash.

‘What do you think it’s for?’

‘It could for a number of things Vivian. People have a way of finding things to buy when they millions to spare. Be it an object or a person.’

‘Did Mamoru find out about… the body?’

‘We’re still looking into it, but I have a hunch.’

‘Which is?’

‘You’ll see.’

‘No fair!’ Vivian pouts at me and I pinch her cheeks.

‘Oww!’ She says it in a more playful tone, letting me know that she’s happy.

‘You’ve gotten thinner since you left.’

‘I guess I was lonely without you Eisuke.’ She takes my hands and wraps my arms around her.

‘I missed you, so much.’ She hugs me tight, listening to my rapid heartbeat.

‘How have you been Eisuke?’

‘Fine. It’s not as if I need you by my side all the time.’ Who am I kidding? Her giggles tell me that she doesn’t believe my lies either.

‘But you will always miss my coffee right?’ Her teasing words make me chuckle.

‘Your coffee has done wonders for me. Even if you didn’t stay as my secretary, I would have made you the penthouse maid.’

‘Haha, I’m sure you would have.’ She raises her head and looks up at me through her long lashes. When did she become so beautiful?

‘Eisuke…’ When did her voice become so enticing when she says my name? And what would she sound like at night, beneath me with her head thrown back in pure bliss?

But before my lips can touch her skin…

‘Boss! Are you ready?’

‘Damn it, that thief always has awful timing.’ I grumble as we untangle our limbs from each other.

‘Don’t worry Eisuke. I’ll still be here when you get back.’ She takes my face into her hands and leaves a kiss on my forehead.

‘You know I will always be here.’ We lean our heads against each other, savouring the feelings that we hold dear. I’ve never felt love for a woman before. It’s not a bad feeling though.

* (VIVIAN’S POV)

I change into my casual clothing and go downstairs to find not only Soryu with Ryosuke and Samejima, but also Luke in the lounge. The TV has been set up for us to watch the party on mute.

‘Hey you guys.’ I sit on the couch next to Luke and see Eisuke, Ota, Baba, and Mamoru at the party, mostly drinking at the bar.

‘Hey princess.’ Ryosuke waves. Samejima and Soryu both give me a nod.

‘Hello Sexy Bones.’ I smile at Luke.

‘Why aren’t you down there Soryu?’ I ask.

‘Too many women.’

‘Oh I see.’ Soryu hates women with a passion. Eisuke was surprised when Soryu said he didn’t mind me being here. Apparently, I’m not the type of women he hates.

‘Where’s JT?’ I ask, trying to spot him on the monitors.

‘Over there, speaking to one of the politicians.’ Luke points to the far corner. For a while we wait and see what happens. Eisuke speaks to various celebrities, all with that sly smile on his face, while Mamoru drinks at the bar. Baba and Ota flirt with the other women at the party.

It all seems pretty calm when I see JT suddenly throw a glass of champagne at a wall.

‘Uh oh.’

‘What the!?’

‘He’s drunk.’ Luke observes.

JT seems to shouting at a staff member. One whom I know as my friend, Sakiko.

‘He’s going to hit her!’ I shout. JT’s large fist is balled up in the air, ready to hit its target when Eisuke grabs his arm and pins it back. He forces JT to the ground and Mamoru cuffs his wrists.

‘Oh thank god!’ I sigh with relief as Sakiko is attended to by the other staff members. Eisuke seems to be addressing the guests as Mamoru and security push JT off the premises.

‘The media will love this.’ I say.

‘Eisuke knew this would happen, that’s why he called them in the first place.’ Soryu says, turning his attention to clean his gun.

‘Mr Ichinomiya looked so cool! Just like you sir!’ Ryosuke says, looking at Soryu with admiration.

‘Indeed, Eisuke’s collarbones looked splendid.’ Luke smiles and Ryosuke gives me a look of bewilderment. I laugh despite the situation we just witnessed.

‘Eisuke did look really cool out there.’

‘Maybe you should make him the new Ice Dragon’s leader.’ Luke says.

‘No.’ Both Luke and I burst out laughing with Samejima trying to hide his smile and Ryosuke looking even more bewildered.

When Eisuke came back to the penthouse, I said good night to the others and followed him upstairs to his bedroom. I hugged him tightly as soon as we entered him room.

‘I saw on the monitors. Thank you for saving Sakiko.’ I nuzzle my face into his chest.

‘Hm.’ I feel the slight vibration course through his body.

‘Eisuke?’

‘What?’

‘Seeing JT be so… violent… made me think. Do you think sacrificing my freedom, despite knowing his flaws, despite knowing that there is always the possibility that he could become violent with me, that he could hurt me and cause me pain and trauma that I might never recover from, if marriage is about accepting the faults of the partner you love, should I accept his flaws no matter how abusive he could be?’

‘No. Because even the slightest possibility could destroy more than just your body, but your heart too. People like JT are not worth more than the dirt under our shoes.’

Suddenly, Eisuke dips down and hooks his arm under my knees.

‘Ah! Eisuke!’ Wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, Eisuke throws me onto the bed and leans over me.

‘You’re still here though.’

‘I am.’

‘Are you going to leave?’ I look into his chocolate brown eyes. I can see my reflection in them so clearly. I feel my love for him bubbling up inside me.

‘Only if you force me to.’

‘Pfft, as if that would ever happen.’ His kiss is sweeter than any candy. It melts me at my core completely. That night, our hearts finally connect with one another. The moment that I have always wanted has been fulfilled. And before I pass out, I hear,

‘I promise, tomorrow, you will walk out as my woman. I will save you.’

Standing at the church doors, I breath in and out. Clutching a bouquet of hydrangeas, I think about last night. Eisuke promised that he would save me.

‘Go to the wedding tomorrow. I will be there and stop this madness.’

Akira comes up and turns me to face him.

‘Do not worry Vivian. Eisuke will give you a wedding surprise you won’t soon forget.’ His smile warms my heart. I asked him to come from London to walk me down the aisle. With my parents gone since I was a child, Akira is the closest thing I have to a father.

‘I know he will. I just hope he hurries up.’ I say. Akira holds out his elbow and my left hand gently clutches his suit. We hear the music begin and the large doors creak open.

With thousands of eyes on me, I look straight ahead just as Eisuke would. Ignore all the stares and look straight forward always no matter what. Cameras and flashes and whispers fill the room as I see JT smirk my way. The wedding dress wasn’t my choice. It was designed by JT and Ota together but it still isn’t the dress I imagined I would wear to my wedding. It’s a backless, pearl white lace dress with a ring of diamonds at my waist. My hair is in a loose bun and a thin hair band with small flowers rests atop my head. The dress trails at the back slightly and I feel it drag the fake flowers those sitting on the benches throw at us. In the corner of my eye, I see the bidders who wave at me. I smile inwardly, knowing that I’m in safe hands.

We finally make it to the priest and JT presses a light kiss to my hand. I gag inside as Akira leaves me to sit down.

The priest begins to speak the formalities and my mind drifts away. Eisuke said he would save me. So where is he? I’ve hoped for years that Eisuke would love me the way that I love him and now that I finally have it, we’ve become entangled in this mess.

‘If there is anyone who would object to this couple’s union, speak now or forever hold your peace.’

The doors behind us creak open once more. Everyone turns to see the silhouette of the man I love the most in this world.

‘I object.’

Eisuke walks forward as gasps and whispers fill the room. All cameras pointed at the King of Spades.

‘JT Lance has no business marrying her.’ He nods to the priest who takes out a remote and presses a button. A projector rises near the back of the church and a picture of a woman appears.

‘Oh that’s Miss Freya Opaline.’ Opaline was a great gem collector who mysteriously died when she tripped and fell into glass which pierced her heart.

‘Miss Opaline was not killed by what we believed was an accident.’ Eisuke’s strong voice echoes in the church.

‘JT and Opaline were both after the same set of gems that were unearthed in Egypt. Opaline got to them first so JT attempted to bribe her for them. When that didn’t work, he killed her and took the gems for himself.’ Moans and groans of the shocked public begin to rise.

‘The next few slides have secret messages between Mr Jason Taylor Lance and his associates who covered up the murder. Let’s also not forget about Mr Lance, who has been making counterfeit money for nearly a decade.’

‘Damn it.’ I hear JT whisper in defeat.

‘If there is anybody else who would like to object…’ As if on cue, Baba and Ota shout out.

‘I object!’ Everyone follows suit and I back away. Suddenly, Mamoru and the police walk in, arresting JT and Mr Lance. Before JT is taken away, I waltz up to him where he is handcuffed. I smile and throw the bouquet at his feet. The sound a slap resonates inside the building, rendering everyone silent. JT stares dumbfounded. Suddenly, I hear cheers for my performance and the police take JT away.

Eisuke comes up to me and I kiss him. I hear many screams and see white flashes behind my closed eyelids but I don’t care. He did it all and I helped him.

‘I love you Eisuke.’

‘I love you Vivian.’ He smiles genuinely and I fall in love again. We lean our foreheads together, knowing our love for each other is true.

‘It was nice of Mrs Lance to sign the contract on behalf of her ex-husband.’ I say.

‘Yes. Now that Miss Felicia is taking over, their business might finally have a chance of being good.’

‘But not as good as the Ichinomiya Group. Right?’ I laugh.

‘Obviously.’ Eisuke smirks at me when we hear a crack.

‘Okay, I think I got it.’ Ota says. The large statue of Venus stands before us once again… in pieces.

‘I guess you finally did something right for once Baba.’ Mamoru says.

‘Yeah! Wait what?!’

‘We were lucky that this was the statue that Miss Felicia was talking about. Who would have thought that Opaline and Felicia were such good childhood friends that Opaline gave the gems to her?’

The gems were never with Opaline to begin with. She sent them to JT’s mother as a way to rekindle their love for each other. Unfortunately, JT killed Opaline before she and Felicia could run away and start life anew. After her death, Felicia hid the gems inside the statue made by an amateur to prevent anyone from taking them.

‘The gems were the beginning of so much sorrow. Whatever stories there are, those gems hold nothing but pain.’

‘It’s a tragic love story but I think Felicia will be happy knowing that she has her own business to run and that her lover’s murderers are in prison.’

‘What I can’t believe is that Mr Lance wanted Vivian in order to blackmail you into selling the counterfeit money at the auctions.’

‘A stupid idea by a coward.’

‘Guys, I think I found it.’ Ota pulls out a golden box from the statue’s chest.

‘Is that it?’

‘Must be.’

‘Open it Eisuke!’

He takes the box and uses the key Felicia gave Eisuke. Inside is one gem, not multiple like the stories. A large diamond the size of a fist sparkles in the light.

‘Now this, will fetch a very good price.’ Eisuke smirks.

‘$20 million! $50 million! $100 million! Do I have any more bids?’

‘It’s going up.’

‘Of course it is.’

‘$150 million! $200 million!’

‘Wow.’

‘Honestly, these people are far too desperate for something good to happen to ‘em. As if a diamond can bring good fortune.’ Mamoru says.

‘$300 million! Any more!’

The diamond sits on a pedestal on top of a purple velvet cushion. I hug Eisuke’s arm and snuggle into his side as I feel him kiss the top of my head.

‘$500 million! Sold!’

66 notes · View notes

bthump · 4 years ago

Note

If you could rewrite Berserk (or maybe parts of it), what would you change? I love the way you interpret this story. The way you interpret this work, makes it so much more powerful, than how some other side of the fandom understand it.

thank you so much, i’m glad my interpretations resonate with you!

tbh my ideal version of Berserk is basically a much shorter story that begins with the Black Swordsman arc and ends on this shot:

more specifically I’d open on a similar panel of Guts fighting ghosts, seen far above, and alone. I’d include a version of the Lost Children arc in the Black Swordsman arc after chapter 2, between Snake Baron and Count Slug, also introducing Skull Knight. I’d make some kind of pointed visual comparison between Skull Knight and Vargas, illustrating that they’re both similarly consumed by revenge and cautionary tales for Guts.

This version of Lost Children is even sadder and more depressing - Jill and Rosine’s friendship is highlighted as positive, the scene where they fly together is beautiful and uplifting, and it’s suggested that if Jill did stay with Rosine her influence could remake the creepy Land of the Elves into less of a horror show and more of an actual place of refuge sans monster transformations. Yk, Rosine is open to Jill’s suggestions basically.

Guts still has his humanizing moments with Jill but he’s shown at his most monstrous too when he kills Rosine. Jill returning to her abusive home isn’t uplifting or hopeful, it’s tragic. Guts’ “this is your paradise” bit isn’t an objective statement, it’s a sign of Guts’ depressed cynicism and increasingly monstrous mindset. Oh and despite the Land of Elves being fucked up (in my version it would at least be sliiiiightly less fucked up), Guts destroying it would have some thematic echoes in the destruction of the Hawks. Maybe the raid we see on the Hawks after they’re declared traitors involves a lot more fire and forest burning down. Maybe some of the elf monster kids try to save each other and one of them gets Guts with a thrown knife lol a la Judeau protecting Casca. Idk, something.

Also the Peekaf story is cut, as is Rosine’s tragic flight home, as emotional as it was in the manga. She dies with Jill here. I’m kinda downplaying the dreams as escapes theme wrt Jill’s flight with Rosine and the land of the elves because I don’t think it works in this arc due to, yk, the alternative being abusive homes.

Afterwards ghosts still taunt Guts about becoming like Femto, but without the “your friend” description bc that gives too much away. Skull Knight picks up Rosine’s behelit and has his suggestive “hm this could be Guts eventually” internal monologue even though Guts doesn’t have a behelit yet.

Count Slug arc is essentially the same. I would turn the fetus into some kind of pathetic looking misshapen dog demon (like the Beast of Darkness but in much less cool form, bc that’s essentially what the fetus was before Miura overwrote it) who follows Guts around and reminds him of what he’s in danger of becoming. Guts picking up Slug’s behelit is the last shot before the Golden Age begins.

Theresia is a more angry version of Jill, and they’re both examples of Black Swordsman Guts ruining lives wherever he goes, along with the zombie girl in chapter 2 - it’s all variations on a theme of Guts sort of creating mini versions of himself bc of his traumatized lashing out. Zombie kid is most metaphorical in becoming a monster after listening to Guts’ cynical take on dying by the sword; Jill goes back to her abusive Gambino-esque father when her potential escape, Rosine, is killed; Theresia swears vengeance when Guts kills her father who couldn’t sacrifice her to save himself.

(this mini me thing would parallel Slug and Rosine’s abilities to create their own monsters, btw. Cycle of violence kinda thing.)

Everything else follows the manga up until Guts and Casca start getting romancey. I’d cut that out completely. They can have a burgeoning friendship but there’s no romantic undertones and no sex and no meddling Judeau etc. Casca still fights Guts and stabs him and yells at him about Griff but there’s no sucide attempt. She still confesses to her crush on Griffith because it’s a good griffguts parallel, but definitely doesn’t say she was lying to Guts and herself when she said she wanted to be Griffith’s sword. But I do want that “Griffith’s not a god... and I am a woman” line in there because it’s such a good parallel.

Guts monologues about his newfound dream to Godo in a flashback during the Wyald fight instead, then does the waterfall log thing and breaks several bones, then gets told off by Erika who points out he just wants to fight Zodd again. I’d maybe move some of Godo’s lines about Guts metaphorically being a nicked sword to here too. Also show the dragonslayer leaning up against a wall lol.

Guts still tells Casca at some point that he fully intends to leave again. Maybe during the rescue mission. Because yk we still need that moment where Griffith overhears someone telling Guts to leave.

Finally the last change is that Casca dies with Judeau, Guts manages to survive until Femto wakes up, they have a moment staring each other down, there’s a clear parallel to a moment of Guts’ childhood - I’m thinkin Guts asks “Why?” and there’s a shot of Femto, shadowed so we only see one eye, a la:

Apostles begin to descend on Guts chanting shit like ‘sacrifice’ and ‘ours,’ (comparison to bb!Guts facing down the wolves btw, Guts is resigned) and then Skull Knight appears and rescues him and we get that last shot of Femto.

The End.

The implication is that Guts and Griffith are alone and monstrous without each other, violence begets violence, relationships are a positive contrast to that but they keep fucking those up, etc. There would still be a slight ray of hope though in comparisons to Jill/Rosine and Slug’s inability to sacrifice Theresia, and Femto lowering his hand, showing that, yk, even monsters have potential. It would be a very thin ray though bc Guts killed those monsters lol so the implication would still be that Guts is kind of doomed to roam the world alone with his sword like Skull Knight or Zodd.

Also... I’d fuck around with the world building and astral plane stuff because Guts and Femto being metaphysically separated doesn’t work for this. I want that thin ray of hope even if it necessarily comes to nothing lol, if only because if I was alternate universe Miura I’d want people to write Femto/apostle Guts fanfic. So no mention that the Godhand can only appear when someone uses a behelit, maybe even imply somehow that Femto could show himself to Guts at any time, he’s just snubbing him.

Anyway yeah, ty for asking.

also if you’re interested I once wrote a very long and involved post here about what I’d change if I had free range to adapt Berserk if you want a longer answer with more details that follows the actual story much more closely (including a less involved take on my answer here lol).

#Anonymous #ask #a #b #theme: opinion #theme: adaption

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago

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Survey #405

“today i went to therapy, told him the embarrassing issues that i’m having with my life / he told me that i need to change; life is not a video game, so stop playing & open up your eyes”

What was your favourite sweet as a child? Things like Baby Bottle Pops, Ring Pops, Airheads, etc. Do you like to wear socks to bed? NOOOOOOO. I don't wear socks unless I have to. What’s your favourite berry? Strawberries. If you have a job, how long is your shift? I don't. Do you like sunflowers? Well yeah. Are you counting down for anything? No. Are you watching TV? What’s on? No. Do you have make-up on? No. I haven't worn makeup since last October. Are you any good with kids? People have told me I am, but I beg to differ. What if you had a baby with the last person you kissed? We're both cisgender women, we physically couldn't. Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years time? It'd be nice honestly, but I kinda doubt I will be. What is your favorite card game? Magic: The Gathering. What is the weirdest thing you’ve done in public? Ha, probably the times I've gotten down on the ground beside the road to photograph roadkill... More than once has someone stopped and asked if I was okay, haha. Favorite sleeping position? Twisted half on my side and stomach with my legs just sorta splayed out. What is your dad’s name? Ken. Have you ever been on a diet? Multiple times. Do you own any jersey shirts? No. Are you proud to be of the nationality you are? There are two moods I have on this: I'm either neutral or embarrassed. Can you remember what you last clapped for? Omg the woman who facilitates my TMS treatment was telling Mom and me about this one time a tiny snake got in the lobby and I did a lil squeal and clapped a bit because I was just excited to hear about a little snake, haha. What is the geekiest part of your music collection? *shrug* Maybe game soundtrack music. What do you eat when you raid the fridge late at night? Well, not really the fridge, but w/e. I'll usually get a granola bar or something of the sort. What is the little physical habit that gives away you're insecure moment? Kneading/wringing my hands together is a dead giveaway. Do you have too many love interests? No. How much money would it take to get you to give up the Internet for one year? If you want honesty... probably no amount would lmao. I rely way too heavily on the Internet for so many things. Do you talk a lot? It depends on my mood and who I'm around. Do transient, homeless, or starving people sometimes annoy you? What a fucking awful question. They don't annoy me. It can be awkward driving past them, but they're in no way annoying. Do you consider yourself to be a nice person? I definitely try to be. What is your ideal marriage location? Either a gothic-looking mansion or something of the sort or a wooded area in the fall. Do you tell your friends about your sex life? I don't have one to talk about. Would you ever admit to having done plastic surgery of any kind if confronted? Yeah? No shame. What kind of watch(es) do you wear? I don't wear watches. What do you cook the best? My family likes my scrambled cheesy eggs... basic as that is, haha. When my sisters would go to Taco Bell all the time and save the hot sauces for later use, I would use some packets in the eggs I cooked. Honestly amazing. What's one car you will never buy? "Anything that is two door, or low to the ground." <<<< This right here. On the other end of the spectrum, I also won't ever buy a car that's high up. I need a good medium so I can actually get in with ease. What's one thing you're a sore loser at? Hm, I dunno. What kind of first impression do you think you give to people? "Wow, she's awkward." What's one thing you like to do alone? Draw. When's the last time you cried? Not long ago at all because I was just so exasperated over my weight gain. Do you think you're cute? God no. Do you have problems changing clothes in front of friends? I don't change in front of anyone if I can avoid it. Did you like kissing the last person you kissed or the one before that more? The last person. I gotta say I was not a fan of kissing Girt because for whatever reason his lips were ALWAYS wetter than lips naturally should be and I just didn't dig it, man. That and every kiss with him was awkward. Whose bed other than yours did you last lay on? My mom's. What turns you off immediately? Acting sexist, to name one. Which city do you particularly enjoy visiting and for what reasons? I don't like going into cities. Do you often take pictures with the camera on your phone? No. I don't like the camera on my phone. In the past year, have you lost weight or gained weight? How much? Gained. You don't need to know. What year was the last car you rode in/drove? I have zero clue. What’s your worst/funniest experience with one of your neighbors? "Worst" and "funniest" are very different... but I can tell you the worst easily. At my childhood home, our next-door neighbors had a pair of Rottweilers in their back yard within a chain-link fence, and we had a LOT of outdoor cats at the time. (I will emphasize every time I bring it up to NOT keep cats outside.) Somehow the dogs got loose and went on a rampage trying to kill our cats; one young one was killed, while our fearless mother cat, Chance, literally fought them off to defend her new kittens. More were maybe killed, I honestly can't remember. My mom was hysterical and threatened to call animal control if it ever happened again. I was absolutely, utterly heartbroken. The last time you burned your tongue or mouth, what were you eating? Ummm I want to say it was some sort of pasta that I didn't let cool long enough. Honestly, are you shallow? Far from it, honestly. Can/could your parents tell when you were lying? Not always. Besides clothes, shoes, and accessories, what’s your favorite thing to shop for? I love window-shopping at Morph Market, haha. AAAAAAAAAALL those ball python morphs, man... *drools* Does/did your parents ever go through your computer or cell phone? When I was younger, Mom was very intent on figuring out why I was always so secretive about what I did on the computer (mostly RP-related things) that ohhhh yeah, she'd do some digging. The night she finally snapped, demanding I tell her my passwords to everything, and she ultimately found out about me being a forum RPer, was literally almost traumatic to me, I think. I know, that sounds INCREDIBLY overdramatic, but I'm not fucking joking. I was in my room SOBBING on my best friend's shoulder, who was spending the night. I was just so embarrassed, and I *still* am when I share that fact with people I know, even though I have no reason to be. Like I don't do any weird or kinky RP shit, it's just genuine, artistic writing with actual, well thought-out plots, but I still feel like people would think it dumb, childish, and just weird. What song reminds you the most of a particular day in your life? Why is that? "Stairway to Heaven" by Led Zeppelin. I've talked about it a few times before and really don't feel like doing it again. Do you have any close friends that were adopted? I don't think so. Who, in your opinion, is the best thriller writer? I don't know. Does your mom eat meat? Yeah. Was your dad ever on a sports team? Lots in high school, I believe. Do you prefer thick or thin crusted pizza? Thick, by a long shot. What do you have in your fruit salads? Not a fan of fruit salads. Have you ever spent more than two weeks in a wheelchair? I've only needed a wheelchair once in my life, and that was just to get inside and maneuver around the doctor's office when I tore a ligament in my foot. So no. What are your favorite word? Serendipity, tranquility, lucid, etc.; pretty, peaceful words like those. Is there a lot of drama in your life? Nope. I don't do enough or have enough people in my life for there to be. What are you listening to? An extended version of "Nightsong" from WoW. Do you hear any animals right now? No. I'm sure I'd hear birds if I didn't have my earplugs in, though. Have you ever played fetch with a dog? Yes. Have you ever pet a stingray? No. Who is the last baby you held? Emerson, my youngest niece. Do you have any scars from an animal? Yeah; I've got looooots from my cat playing too rough. Have you ever seen an Igloo? I don't believe so. Do you like Korn? They're high on my list of faves. Are you more afraid of tornadoes or hurricanes? Absolutely tornadoes. Do you like mushrooms? Ugh, NO. Have you ever been on Omegle? No. So do you have a favorite M&M? Just the regular ones. Have you ever snuck out? No. Do you currently feel like you have pretty stable career goals/a pretty stable life plan? Have you ever felt this way? I don't know, man. I know what I WANT to do, I just don't know if I'm ever going to get there. Or if what I want will be financially supportive enough, now that I'm really losing interest in photographing people. I might just have to if I want to be financially stable with photography, which would be okay, but bleh. I'd much rather just work with nature. If you could buy an android that was was convincingly human and could be tailored to be your perfect partner, would you want one? No. I don't want to build my own partner, nor do I want my romantic partner to be an android. I want life to just introduce me to a person who is uniquely themselves, who have built themselves from their own life experiences, and not just have a perfect spouse tailored to everything I like. If you do not identify as being “straight,” can you remember back to your childhood some things you did that were, in hindsight, possible indicators of your future sexuality? Yes, especially in middle school. I thought women were prettier than probably a straight kid would, and looking back, I definitely found the natural curves of the female figure to be attractive. When you consume media (movies, books, etc.) with a romantic element, what sort of romance scenarios interest you most? Hm. I know I prefer serious ones over silly; like I'm a sucker for Nicholas Sparks' style, if that says anything. If you are female, do you feel connected to other women as a class? What sort of things make you feel a strong sense of sisterhood or female empowerment? This is too big of a question for me to feel like delving into right now, haha. But I can say it more so depends on the individual than the gender when it comes to feeling connection over anything.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''game over'' by falling in reverse

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twilightknight17 · 4 years ago

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Today on P5S, it is entirely unfair how cool our Monarch of Arrogance is. God. What the fuck. Dark Souls, in my Persona??? X’D

Konoe’s Jail once again set off my fight or flight reflexes, because after the colored door and switch puzzle, it decided to once again emulate Okumura’s Palace by having us collect cards to gain VIP access to the airship that would take us to the castle.

Fortunately, it was a fairly straightforward area, and I got to run over an entire hallway’s worth of Naga with a futuristic golf cart, so things were pretty good! Got our keycard, entered the airship hanger, ready for departure!

........and that’s all we get. A fade-to-black, and a checkpoint in a new area. Disappointing.

Slightly less disappointing. What a cool view.

We have to leave the Jail for the day because “the great Akira’s hero show” is beginning, so there’s a crowd of people and guards gumming up the building entrance. In the real world, this translates to Konoe being on a talk show.

I swear to god, they only have one talk show set. XDDD

One of the things he says on TV is that “the world is about to undergo a massive transformation, and I’m hoping to steer it in the right direction.” I’m going to keep making jokes about you being Shido and Maruki’s lovechild for as long as you keep choosing questionable wording like that, sir. This country is not a goddamn ship. We’ve already proved that!

Pot??? Kettle????? Good god, you fucking hypocrite. X’‘‘DDD The world’s savior, everyone!

I am having a lovely time in Osaka. Apparently they’re well-known for their takoyaki specifically, aside from being a foodie paradise in general. But I swear to god, Akira, if you actually put mayonnaise, mochi, and cheese on squid all at once, I will end you.

My cat won’t let me eat a crepe, but he’ll allow this madness.

Anyway, after a good night’s sleep, it’s time to storm the castle! And once we made it inside, we were immediately teleported to a dungeon. I’m not mad about that part; we got out in like five minutes. Shoddy security. What I am mad about is that it cut off the ‘storming the castle’ music, because I really like that track.

The top of the tower revealed a cage, the same as the other Jails, and the Thieves were caught off-guard by the notion that Konoe has some kind of trauma. Futaba says that he seems far too confident and being traumatized doesn’t fit his image, to which I say, my absent boyfriend was the same way, sis. You never know.

They trick Wolf into touching the barrier and learning what kind of trauma it was that sent Konoe out of control. He screams. It’s great. :3

........hm. Apparently my Akira’s not the only one with shitty parents. At least his are improving. This sounds very bad.

Yusuke: “Nothing changes the fact that Akira Konoe is an incredibly dangerous man who changes other’s hearts and robs them of their free will.”

Me: Gee, kids, you waffled a lot more about Maruki. Konoe’s just trying to eliminate evil because of his trauma, right??? -_-;;;

Sophia’s confused why Konoe’s father would be that awful to him when they’re family. To answer your question, yes, darling, family is very important, that’s why I’m adopting you as my fourth little sister. You’re wonderful.

Konoe’s Trauma Cell is at his old family home. Twenty years ago, Konoe’s father was killed in a robbery. The killer was never caught. Here, the Phantom Thieves are treated to a lock keeper in the form of Konoe’s father, who has wonderful things to say, like...

“Keeping you around’s a real pain in the ass. Maybe I should just kill you, too.”

.....too?

“What the fuck are you mumbling about, you freak? Not like it matters, you’ll be joining your mother soon enough!”

...................uh...

Atlus.

God, they just keep giving me reasons to write the Hours version of Scramble, I swear to god. This is begging for some Goro commentary.

Zenkichi gets everyone back on track, reminding them that an abusive childhood does not absolve someone of attempting to take over the world. The kids head out for the day, and postpone planning the calling card because Zenkichi had something else to do.

That something else turned out to be meeting with Commissioner Kaburagi. Apparently she helped Sae get him out of prison. He tells her that he’s intending to arrest Owada once Konoe confesses, and she gives him three days to get shit done. Meanwhile, she strongly implies that she’s going after the Commissioner General, whose heart might have been changed.

And Konoe’s just chilling in his fancy office, talking on the phone with Owada and checking in with EMMA. He gets EMMA to confirm that the Thieves are still imprisoned in the Kyoto Jail, and that’s... interesting.

...........strange. Why is EMMA lying to him?

It also confirms for him that the Thieves’ hearts cannot be changed (but not why), and he basically shrugs and is like, “Well, I guess they’ll just have to rot in there.” What a paragon of justice and goodness, leaving teenagers to die.

EMMA seemingly being dishonest brings me to another interesting point from his interview earlier:

Now, this could be either Tokyo Tower or the Skytree. However, it doesn’t really matter.

The point is that I want an absolutely batshit final boss on top of one of those towers. XDDDDD

Anyway.

The Phantom Thieves hijack Madicce’s blimp to drop calling cards all over Osaka, combined with a live broadcast. They let Zenkichi write the card, without supervision for some reason, so it ended up reading like an arrest warrant. Zenkichi sees no problems with this. He definitely needs more practice. And then, it’s off to confront Konoe’s Shadow, and see what the fuck he has to say for himself.

......all of you people are the SAME. This is why Mitsuru doesn’t want this stuff to be public knowledge, oh my GOD. I know the gods are real to some extent but they are not picking YOU. Where did you even learn about the cognitive world, anyway?

He just flat out admits that he wants to rule the world so he can erase evil. Which, I can think of one entity that definitely ought to be striking you down where you stand. I’d be okay if there wasn’t even a boss fight here, there’s just a giant tentacle that appears and crushes him to death and then we go home. X’‘‘‘D

......god, if I really do set Hours!Scramble after Royal, it’s just going to be the kids stuck in a constant loop of “not this shit again”. X’‘‘D

FUCK OFF, MARUKI.

On the one hand, he has half a point, and I was literally having a discussion yesterday about how the Thieves’ methods definitely have an element of grey morality to them.

On the other, the difference is we’re specifically targeting criminals. You are targeting literally everyone, including innocent people. Show me your boss form so we can throw down.

.....oh.

He’s... He’s got a cool Zephyrman suit. And a giant mech. We’re fighting a big anime mech. omg. omg omg omg.

We get to use railguns to blast the shit out of his overpowered mech suit. And when it’s eventually destroyed, he walks out of the smoke ready to throw down with a red lightsaber and he looks like a fucking Dark Souls boss.

I unironically love this.

I’m writing Hours Scramble just so that Goro has a chance to swordfight this motherfucker. I love it.

I LOVE IT.

HE’S SO HARD. HE’S DODGING ALL MY SHIT LIKE SHADOW JOKER. HE’S USING THE SHIT IN THE ARENA AGAINST ME, LIKE I CAN DO TO HIM. THIS IS GREAT.

I stopped for the night before I beat him, but that just means that I get to watch that absolutely amazing cutscene again. Oh my gosh. I’m so excited.

#Li plays P5Scramble

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ungiftedmusings · 4 years ago

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episode 6

immediate thoughts:

oh god pang literally just watched his friend kill himself after being blamed for said friend’s suffering

and then he immediately started blaming himself for someone else’s death

to to mention time was trying to help him find korn so the sacrifice did more harm than good, if anything

can we take a minute to pause and consider how traumatic this is? how hard the permanence of death is going to hit? how it’s absolutely going to crush him?

remember when he was hesitant to use his power in order to ensure his friends’ safety? that hesitance is gone after this. korn said “how will you protect me” and pang didn’t have an answer - he’ll have an answer next time

^that is going to be all the more problematic if pang’s friends don’t trust him anymore

i’m still hung up over korn’s insistence on “why” over “who” did it - i think there’s more to the story. with the theme of power dynamics around every corner of this show, i’d say someone made things worse for him, someone tipped him in that direction. personally, i think it was channon - we know he gave him a folder with info on nyx-88, but we don’t know what else was in that folder. what else did he communicate to korn?

channon’s potential is high accuracy calculation - and he’s had 10+ years to develop it as far as he can take it. and maybe he really did just do nothing for those 10 years but i think that’s unlikely. not to mention there’s a focus on limits of their potentials this season. just speculation here, but if i take channon’s potential to it’s limit, i think we could be dealing with foresight - seeing the future, seeing potential paths and making the one you like most come to fruition through careful calculations and observation of patterns. i’m saying he could have planned all of this without anyone knowing his influence. especially considering he’s been keeping tabs on the gifted kids!

which... makes me even more convinced that wave’s going to develop time manipulation skills, actually. the kind of thing that’s needed to hijack the plans of someone with foresight

this is gonna be the last straw, their group is going to shatter - i hope that the twins play a role in bringing them back together. i mean, you’ve gotta have developed some serious conflict resolution skills if you’re tied to someone in the way they are to each other

maybe grace’s potential will be the tip off about channon? third’s potential would also be useful, for figuring out why channon gives her bad vibes, but since he’s sick it might be something he does in secret?

what we all i want from episode 7 + beyond:

wave someone finds pang sobbing in the dorm room and gives him a very long hug

punn has compassion for claire and sets their differences aside to comfort her because she literally just lost her childhood friend and is probably blaming herself because 1. she convinced pang to go to him and 2. her potential could have cued her in on what was going on with korn (note: i am not blaming her and this was not her fault - but i do think these are thoughts that someone in her position might have)

claire uses the grief as motivation and fills in for pang as temporary leader of the group while pang has a much needed break

ohm cries. (y’know, that clip from the intro? i want him to cry now because i don’t want that to be the result of some other traumatic experience later this season please for the sake of my shattered heart)

what i think we’ll get in episode 7 + beyond:

the group shatters

everyone kind of blames themself

punn blames claire for korn’s death and refuses to have sympathy for her, focusing instead on his own rise to power - he’s been pushed past his breaking point and if he doesn’t feel he can trust claire, then he can’t trust anyone enough to bring him back too himself

pang doesn’t have the mental/emotional capacity to win back his friends’ trust so he starts doing things on his own/with the teachers again

wave is going to be very, very regarding how their group fell apart and why, and what he can do to fix things

at some point wave develops time manipulation abilities - maybe when he sees how much pain pang is in? hm nah that’s probably wishful thinking... unless ?

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ghostmartyr · 5 years ago

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SnK 127 Thoughts

“Let us speak for 46 pages about how we still don’t actually have any real plan, we’re just all very against genocide (except Magath and Yelena) and very upset and feel like we should be doing something.”

The characters are sort of doing my job for me this month.

Maybe this whole post should just be illicit screencaps from Crunchyroll with me providing links and saying, ‘and here’s the panel that makes the point I whined about in this post here.’

That would probably provide more entertainment than whatever I’m about to come up with.

-sees the amount of swearing in the first section-

Hm.

First off, fuck Magath.

Like no, I’m sorry. This is not about what happened 2000 years ago. You know what it’s about? It’s about Marley sending in child soldiers to assault and rob a land that had caused literally no problems for 100 years. It’s about Marley doing this despite being aware of its own history, being that their personal hero collaborated with the First King of Paradis to make Marley’s independence possible.

You want to talk about history, Magath?

Jean isn’t the one who sounds like a child.

Jean is reacting to actual pain that he has experienced in his lifetime thanks to Magath’s very intentional military strategies.

Magath is blaming Jean and everyone else on the island for being born.

That is not equivalent.

That is not remotely equivalent, and while Eren is being a fucking bastard about it, Jean’s right. Eren has the power, means, and will to do all of this because of what Magath and Marley did to Paradis.

Magath doesn’t recognize Eldians as people.

The Eldian Empire was bad.

No one except Floch is disputing that. That is how you know that it is bad.

Marley, as well as the rest of the world, has been free from the Eldian Empire for over a hundred years, and in that time, all they have done is take every horrible thing about the Eldian Empire and exploit it for their own gains.

Magath doesn’t get to be angry that he lives off the backs of abused, brainwashed children that he treats like crap.

Years ago, the Eldian Empire was the worst terror in the world.

A year ago, it was Marley.

Now, it happens to be Eren.

And you know, I’ve been actively against pretty much everything Eren’s done. His plan, if he has one, has mostly managed to make everyone angry and get a lot of people killed who weren’t even involved in the beginning. He gets his head blown off close enough to his brother that he doesn’t die. That’s how the beginning stages of him committing genocide goes. He betrays his friends, makes his besties from childhood feel like crap, and honestly has just been a dick to pretty much everyone.

But at least Eren’s indiscriminate murder has the decency to actually be indiscriminate.

Marley takes children it despises and turns them into their willing slaves for the promise of a better life they have no intent of dispensing. They take these children, and full of hatred for the very ability, demand that they shorten their lifespan and murder people to prove that they’re a “good Eldian” who deserves to live.

Marley is why people can stomach rooting for Eren.

Because Marley is such an abomination that it almost feels worth it to destroy the world if it means Marley’s gone too.

Hell, I’m with Hange. There’s not an avenue where I accept genocide as a way to deal with any of this.

But if someone wanted to burn Magath alive, and we spent a dozen pages gloriously detailing his flesh curling off his bones, it would make me happy.

That’s a more dignified death than he’s given any of the children he’s forced into Marley’s wars.

He does not have the fucking moral high ground.

He's the one Jean should have punched. There is not a single person around that campfire that he has not damaged deeply, and noticing that Gabi is a little girl and he cares when she is in pain does not magically remove that.

Fuck Marley. Fuck Magath.

Grow the fuck up and stop viewing genocide as an acceptable response, you fucking halfwit child. You are the individual who saw four children off on their solitary mission to murder thousands of people. Two of them are dead. Two of them are deeply traumatized, with one of them wishing he had died.

But oh yes, Magath. You’re the victim, here.

Because you baited one angry idiot with the power of a god into destroying part of a city you didn’t give a damn about.

Truly, your justice is a thing to aspire to.

Perhaps Eren taking notes is the real reason we’re here.

Motherfucking fuck I hate Marley. I hate that Eren’s put any of these characters in the position where they have to put up with this shit for the sake of civility. I don’t have a problem with the Warriors. I don’t have a problem with the Survey Corps. I don’t have a problem with the kidlets. Hi Onyankopon, sorry about your life. Yelena has many problems, but she’s also attractive, so I don’t mind as much.

Magath, though.

Pieck, just eat him. Everyone’s too depressed to really throw down over it at this point, and the two small ones are so deeply traumatized that one more body really isn’t going to make much of a dent.

Jean’s clearly the star of this chapter, and a good deal of that comes from the potent hopelessness hovering over him like a rain cloud.

He can point to how bad everyone is at talking things out like it’s the key to the entire mystery, but the long list of problems Jean offers at the beginning of the chapter are still present. Unless they have a way to talk to every person in the world out of their (at this point, rather justified) fear and anger, Paradis and Eldians around the world are very much screwed.

Paradis has forever been running out of time against the hatred the rest of the world has for them.

They do have to fight against what Eren’s doing, and talking instead of blowing each other’s heads off is a good start, but it’s a good start thousands of years after the worst possible one.

And the last time they tried to talk to Eren, Armin punched him, and that was the most productive thing to come out of it.

Jean being the everyman who recognizes the heart of an average person because he is one has been a great tool. It’s still great, here. He wants to close his ears to all of this. He wants, desperately, to run away, because there is no good solution that doesn’t end in death.

When he joins the Survey Corps, they at least have Eren as a brand of hope. They can believe that years of the same tactics and bodies piling up won’t end the same way.

Joining this squad is all about stopping Eren, and despite having figured out their next course of action, no one has yet to provide a real idea.

Genocide is wrong, so you stand up and try to stop it.

That’s the only plan they have.

The Scouts from Paradis don’t even have the promise of saving the people they love if they stop Eren. Annie, Pieck, Gabi, Reiner, Falco... they have a home. The world might forget to hate them. They might get to go home and have a life after this.

The people sitting on the other side of the fire are fucking screwed. They’re fighting entirely for their principles.

...Also Yelena is here.

I do like Yelena.

She’s not the worst, because this manga has too many horrible people in it, but she’s delightfully terrible. I especially like how the fact that she’s actually from Marley hardly gives her any pause.

I do so like Yelena.

It’s a beautiful sentiment.

After all, everyone’s drunk on something.

If you can just save the world, what does the rest matter? What do the crimes that kept you awake at night mean, when you’ve accomplished something so miraculous? All the good deeds cleanse the rottenness, and maybe then the world rights itself and you can breathe again.

...Hey wait, where’s Reiner’s reaction shot to finding out Gabi killed Sasha?

...Did he even know Sasha was dead?

But I guess we’re doing Marco angst.

Wow. Marco angst in 2020.

I think my favorite thing about this chapter (outside of the fact that Mikasa still hates Annie and it makes me giggly because wow Mikasa) is that Annie does absolutely nothing while Jean’s beating the crap out of Reiner.

My less favorite thing is I’ve stopped enjoying Reiner getting the crap beaten out of him. It’s been done, and... really the kid just needs to have not been born into this particular life. Watching Jean beat him bloody is. not cathartic. It’s really just awful.

Annie dodging with her food is glorious, though.

Because while Jean beating up Reiner over Marco is sad and kind of miserable, Annie watching someone beat up Reiner after the years she spent putting up with Reiner and Bertolt brings it back to almost funny.

Until you look at Reiner’s face and go back to feeling bad.

-turns page back to Annie getting out of the way-

Much better.

Truly, I love Annie.

Her forgiveness status is interesting, though. I think besides Marco, she enjoyed more of the kills she’s responsible for than anyone feels a need to dig up.

She’s also been more alone than most of the others in the wagons, and essentially spent four years imprisoned for her crimes.

I’m not surprised she asked, because she’s Annie, but I’m a bit surprised we don’t have an answer yet. Probably too close to the end of the chapter to open up that can of worms.

If it makes everyone feel better, I think we know for a fact that Mikasa will never forgive Annie for anything, even if it only displays itself as petty brandishing of weapons every time they make eye contact.

It’s not even a ship thing.

I just love that Annie is the one person Mikasa can’t stand. They’ve been in one chapter together and Mikasa’s already pulling out swords. These two shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near each other. It’s perfection.

Then we get to plot complications that really don’t register as complications because like. Yeah, you guys need something to do while you figure out what the hell you’re doing.

Because you don’t actually have a real plan, just so we’re clear.

Killing Eren would result in all those Wall Titans operating under their own power.

That is not fundamentally less destructive.

Killing Eren has a nice ring to it, but much like talking to Eren, it does not solve any of the other problems looming ahead.

So you enjoy your little subplot with Floch!

It’s one of the last times your combined competence will have any meaning.

-looks over at Kiyomi-

Honest question, but why are you alive if Floch dislikes you enough to hold you hostage? If Eren’s gonna kill everyone, shouldn’t Floch be following suit and just do his Floch thing of murdering every slight inconvenience?

We’re in the boring stages of the finale right now.

No clear plan for either side to contend with. No real progress in any direction because the tiny squabbles are just a delaying tactic for the massive squabble that no one has an answer to. None of any of this chapter really matters except for clearing the air.

Which is not a useless investment, it’s just not very exciting.

At this point, no excitement is allowed, because there’s that One Huge Thing, and the entire story hinges on it. Maybe someone will die on the way to dealing with it, but that’s all the drama we’re going to get until we find out enough about the plot to have a future worth rooting for.

Right now, there is no good outcome for the people we’ve watched fight for 127 chapters.

Pulling a story along with that weight is hard, and I can feel my brain turning itself off until we’re back to a point where the story is permitted to address the stegosaurus in the room.

One more month.

Again.

Until something happens and we all regret everything.

#Shingeki no Kyojin #SnK 127 #shingeki no spoilers #SnK spoilers #spoilers #tl;dr #chapter post #fuck marley

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scaryscarecrows · 5 years ago

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Bat-recs

Y’know, for fun! Add your favorites; we were all new to this hell at some point, maybe this could be useful for someone.

Batman: Gothic

This was actually the second one I bought; it came across my table when I volunteered at a used library books organization. Two bucks. Immortal murderer? Haunted underwater monastery? Generally freaky? Sign me up! NOT RECOMMENDED FOR THE WEE BABES, we got child murder, mentions of sexual assaults, and a literal head in the trash can. Poor Bruce. This story put him through the absolute wringer and I want to hug him.

The Cult

Also freaky! Bane says he broke Batman. Bane broke Batman a few years LATER; Blackfire...jeeze, man. (So far, two for two on the whole ‘immortal evil religious figure’. Hm.) Psychological horror out to HERE, and there’s a couple of pages that just WORK so WELL, when Robin!Jason finally finds poor Bruce. Also not for children, here there be a lotta bodies. And rats. And Bruce being...uh...well, we don’t need to talk about that now.

Scarecrow Year One

MY FIRST AND FAVORITE. (Ahh, evil religious individual! But not immortal this time.) Jonathan Crane’s backstory-one of them-with bonus Batdad content. Sean Murphy's sketchy artwork works really, really well for, well, Scarecrow, and Baby Crane is a little cutie. Protect him at all costs. Eh, if you or your kid’s a frightened type, the swarms of attacking crows might be a bit much, but there’s no corpse-stacks or child murder this time.

Li’l Gotham

Tired of everything hurting? Say no more. Tooth-rotting fluff is HERE. Batfamily getting along. Damian loves his mom and she loves him back and I am HAPPY ABOUT IT. This is what you’d think DC is like all the time, based on fic. Worth having for when they inevitably ruin something else. The same team has since done Once Upon a Crime, which is also precious.

White Knight

Did I see ‘Sean Murphy’ and smash the preorder? Yeah. Do I decree that this Ivy design is the best Ivy? Yeah. Elseworlds/Black Label, so he’s free to deconstruct Batman...and Batman’s proclivity for destroying Gotham in the pursuit of one asshole. (I feel a little called out, given my driving in Arkham Knight.) Has a sequel, and I’m waiting for the TP, but I’m sure I’ll love it just the same. Harley’s looking good here, guys; she is taking no shit AND she’s not being treated as a bimbo. She has brains and she’s not afraid to use them! Eh, mild nudity and violence, but barring Jason Todd’s standard woes, I’d rate it about the same as SYO in terms of ‘will this traumatize my kid?’

Under the Red Hood

1) No kids. There’s a bag o’ severed heads lovingly detailed like, five pages in. Red Hood ain’t Batman, a fact that he would like to make very clear.

2) THE SASS. THE SAAAAAAASS. EVERYBODY IS A SNARKY BASTARD AND I LOVE IT ALL. Well, almost all. I will grant that the animated film fixed my one big grievance with the ending. :) Seriously, though, ‘oh, my goodness gracious! I’ve been bamboozled!’ is golden and I’m WAITING for that line to make it to screen. Don’t be cowards, DC.

Haunted Knight

Everyone’s gonna rec The Long Halloween, as well they ought, but Haunted Knight-same team-is also great. Scarecrow’s design is...I’m torn between loving it and wanting to yeet it into the sun, but it works for him. This is a short story collection featuring Mad Hatter, Scarecrow, and and a Bat-ified Christmas Carol.

Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth

OKAY. This is sort of like The Long Halloween in that it’s frequently considered ‘required reading’, but I do legitimately enjoy it; it’s very, very, creepy. THIS is where the Arkham Asylum game takes a lot of its inspiration; the Rogues do not go to Batman. He goes to them. This also establishes Arkham’s history. I will say that you should pick up a newer edition with the annotated script included (most of them have it now) because there’s a LOT of symbolism in the art that you might miss, and knowing it really adds to the experience. I’d totally teach this in a psych class, though. Or an English class. It’s great. Bonus for everybody having their own style of dialogue: Joker does not have speech bubbles, for instance, Bruce is black and white. Really gives you an idea of how they talk. It’s also nice that most of the Gallery gets some page time, even if they don’t talk; Scarecrow, for instance, has no dialogue, but he doesn’t need it. His presence is enough. Hard R-rating for scary images and implied childhood sexual abuse.

The Animated Series

Yup. Start here. START. HERE. Every major rogue (and several obscure ones) gets an episode in the limelight, Bruce is at his absolute best-that perfect combo of ‘gettin’ real tired of your shit, Villain of the Week’ and the compassion that’s gone missing lately-Harley looks great (and, y’know, LIKE A HARLEQUIN), and although it is kid-friendly, it doesn’t treat the viewer like a kid, so you can enjoy it as an adult. (You’re a lying liar who lies if Baby Doll’s episodes didn’t make you teary-eyed. It’s okay. There’s no shame to be had.) Bonus: Dick Grayson is a little ray of sunshine compared to Batman, but that’s not all he is and the writers remembered that. :) And, well...

Iconic.

The Arkham Series

These are almost the animated series for a more mature audience (complete with a lot of the same voice casting!); murder is now allowed to be confirmed. If you’re intimidated by the comics, this is also a good place to start. Again, all the major rogues and a few lesser-knowns get some time to shine, the characterization is working (Bruce is not here for Joker’s shit, but he can still take a minute to calm down a panicking guard), and yeah, I love the designs.

Look at my baby. THAT is legitimately frightening. 10/10, would run from again. Bonus: not only do we get Alfred, we get three whole Robins AND Oracle. That said, while the games give you PLENTY of options to go ‘I’m Batman’, Bruce takes almost none of them, so you have to do it. You gotta. It’s the law.

EDITED TO INCLUDE

Gotham County Line

Batman deals with the psychological guilt of not being able to save everyone, and there are...zombies. Sort of. Amazingly, Scarecrow is nowhere to be seen, yet Bruce does admit, straight-up, ‘I’m afraid’. Me too, Bruce. Me, too.

10/10 for creep factor here. I went into this unaware it was possible to be scared of Alfred. It is. It is possible. I am a changed woman now. Nothing really...comes of it...but I swear, I turned the page, and this was waiting for me:

Mommy...

Also unsettling; the hanged man in general. A+ unsettling artwork, I’m sure that guy will haunt me. Added bonus: Zombie Robin Jason popping in to save Bruce’s bacon, because he is a good boy, and Zombie Waynes being proud parents. I did not expect the Feels Crowbar...but it was a nice surprise.

#bat-recs #these are my personal favorites #the ones I'd definitely grab if my house was on fire or something #batman

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tact-and-impulse · 4 years ago

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At Arm’s Length Chapter 14

*dojo door slams open* Dad’s home.

Thank you for your patience! Now that this is the last installment correlating to the Kyoto arc, the next chapter will be an interlude before we hop onto the angst train. I know it took a long time for this update, and this past year has been a struggle, given I had to prepare for a major exam (which I passed, so that’s something!) and the current state of the world. The events of this chapter cover Kaoru’s childhood to the Seinan war, including several traumatic events. Content warnings for death of a parent, depictions of war, PTSD, death of a spouse, and depictions of hospitalization. Let me know what you think, and please take care of yourselves.

Chapter 14: Becoming a Father

When he emerged from Commissioner Kawaji’s office, Koshijiro let exhaustion take over. He had stayed awake two hours past midnight to finalize his evacuation plan, and the entire morning had already flown by due to the commissioner grilling him on the details. He had fended off the questions with varying degrees of success, until he was dismissed with a scowl.

He returned to his desk, settled in his chair, and closed his eyes. Just for a minute…

“Officer Kamiya, we received a message requesting backup.” Shinichi nervously interrupted his rest.

He shook off the lethargy, to see the rookie. Occasionally, the young officers were called on for assistance, and Koshijiro had to accompany them as their direct superior. “Please tell me the details on the way there. Let’s head over.”

There was a clash at the fish market, reportedly between two rival gangs. The details of the feud were unknown, but both sides were agitated and aggressive. Shouts and crashes could be heard from a block away. As Koshijiro and the others approached, the noise intensified. The scene was chaotic. Men were exchanging blows and throwing various items at each other. Bloodied faces drifted in and out among the mob, along with the uniforms of officers. The rookies immediately launched themselves into the fray, disappearing in a matter of moments.

A flash of red barreled towards Koshijiro’s right, and he instinctively caught…an octopus. His arm held the creature to his chest, and its tentacles curled around his sleeve and towards his neck. Gingerly, he set it in a nearby bucket of water, and it wriggled in relief. Now that he looked closer, some of the thrown items were raw seafood.

But not all.

A sword swung towards Koshijiro, the rusty edge aiming for his temple, and he ducked. His right hand fell to his bokken, as he analyzed his opponent. A shorter, stockier man with a gap-toothed grin and a death wish, apparently. Koshijiro drew his bokken, moving into a defensive position.

It wasn’t difficult to read his movements, and when the man attempted an overhead swing, Koshijro blocked. The force was intense, and he had to widen his stance. However, that set him up perfectly for the next move. With an inhale, he pushed back, lifting his back foot off the ground to hook around the man’s knee. The man gave a startled exclamation as his feet turned inward, and Koshijiro disengaged. His opponent threatened to fall forward and that left him open for a strike at the sensitive point behind the elbow. The man’s grip spasmed, but even if he could somehow shake off the numbness, Koshijiro was already following through with another blow to the back of the head. Koshijiro watched him go down, and the immediate handcuffing by Officer Abe, who was on standby.

“Whoa, Kamiya-san, that was awesome!”

“Well, I’m glad it worked. I’ve been thinking over this maneuver for some time.” He was rather proud of his success, and confidently, he moved on.

In total, fifty people were arrested, jailed, and scheduled for questioning. He had volunteered for the last shift of interrogation and didn’t return home until past midnight. Koshijiro prepared for bed, and every movement was abnormally loud. Once he had closed his eyes, his ears rang from the eerie silence.

How long had it been since they were gone? June was already coming to a close. Kaoru’s birthday was at the end of the week and he was in Satsuma for her last one. Their usual celebration was a nice dinner, but he felt like this one should be grander, to make amends. He would have to think of something soon…as a testament to how tired he was, he fell asleep mid-thought.

When he woke, he scrambled for the time and realized he was running late. The train would arrive soon, and he had promised to be at the station. He skipped breakfast and broke into a sprint as he drew closer, but he made it to his destination. Tokio rose from a bench, lifting her little son.

“Kamiya-san, thank you for being here. Are you alright?”

He took a moment to catch his breath. “Yes, I’m fine. I see the train’s here?” The locomotive seemed to be giving a long exhale, the turning of the wheels slowing with each cycle.

“Yes, but they must be checking the passengers before they let them out.” She adjusted her hold on Tsutomu, his sleeping face squished against her collar.

They watched the disembarking people and scanned the faces for a boy of the right description. Finally, he stepped out. He was about ten or eleven, and his hair was mussed from sleeping at an odd angle. Noticing their gazes, he cautiously approached, looking up at Tokio.

“Are you Fujita-san?”

“I am and this is my son, Tsutomu. Kamiya-san is my husband’s colleague.”

Koshijiro nodded in greeting. “It’s good to meet you. How was your journey?”

“Long. It wasn’t too bad until the train.” He wrinkled his nose. “I wanted to go on foot like Kenshin did, the train is too noisy.”

“You met Himura-san?”

“Yeah. He really helped me out in my village.” He became quiet, obviously remembering. “He did say, ‘Kamiya-dono will be in Tokyo, so there is no need to worry.’”

Koshijiro coughed to conceal his embarrassment. “I see. Well, I heard he made it to his destination, so there’s no need to worry about him either.”

Tokio knelt to meet Eiji at eye level. “My husband informed me that you lost your parents and brother. I’m so sorry.”

“Kenshin helped me.” Eiji stared at his feet. “He said the dead only want the living to be happy.”

“He wasn’t wrong.” Koshijiro quietly said. “Your family would want that for you.”

They walked out, and Tokio intended to treat Eiji to a well-deserved meal. She extended the invitation to Koshijiro but he had to decline. “Some other time. I’ll stop by now and then, to check in. If there’s anything you need, you can always visit the Kamiya dojo.”

On his way back, he passed a flower seller, hawking baskets teeming with small pink and white deutzia. They greatly resembled cherry blossoms and he remembered they were gone by August. He turned around and paid for one bouquet, mentally mapping out the detour to the cemetery.

Kyoko will surely love these flowers.

***

Everything about Kaoru was utterly charming. Her little yawns, the way she stretched her whole body when she woke, the downy hair capping her head, her plush grip gently enclosing his thumb. She was an energetic baby, working her fingers and flailing her limbs as if testing them out. She was more than Koshijiro and Kyoko could have asked for.

She grew quickly, and Koshijiro was loath to miss a moment. He couldn’t help but feel a little envious of Kyoko and Osue-san, who visited thrice a week to help out. The majority of his day was spent working, so when he returned home at Kaoru’s early bedtime, Kyoko encouraged him to rock their daughter to sleep. She reassured otherwise but he had felt awkward in the early days, too large and clumsy for his tiny girl. As he strolled through the house, Kaoru’s round eyes intently focused on his face before she slowly nodded off.

When she was a few months old, Koshijiro noticed a bright blue ribbon tied around her head. “Hm? What’s this?’ He asked Kyoko.

“I noticed she has a bald spot, so I thought to cover it with the ribbon.” Meanwhile, Kaoru didn’t seem to mind, happily rolling onto her belly and offering Koshijiro a smile.

He sat beside her and one pudgy hand touched his knee before she tried to lift her upper body. Her feet pushed against the tatami but she didn’t budge. As she struggled to move to his lap, her barely visible eyebrows drew together and she made a loud noise of frustration. Amused, he picked her up by the armpits and remarked. “It’s a little early for you to crawl, Kaoru, but it’s good that you’re eager.”

“She’ll be crawling soon.” Kyoko joined them, adjusting the blue ribbon so it was more secure. “And then, she’ll walk and run.”

“Not too fast for us, I hope.”

But for now, Kaoru was still small enough to hold. While their little home was cozy and quiet, it was not as peaceful outside. The disasters of the Ansei era had accumulated in the past two years: cholera raging through Edo, an earthquake in Hida, an assassination near the Sakurada gate. A treaty with the Americans had been signed, resulting in widespread discontent. With the ports open to trade, the markets and routes changed. Inflation drove costs up, as foreigners bought gold. The shogunate was proving to be increasingly unequipped to handle current issues.

Meanwhile, Koshijiro continued to teach kenjutsu. His students were eager to use real blades and threatened to leave if they couldn’t. He did his best to ensure everyone was safe, but he only had one pair of eyes. There were several close calls. After a particularly nasty duel between two students, he sent a doctor for their injuries and ended class early. When everyone had left, he sat on the freshly cleaned dojo floor, rubbing his forehead. The students were eager to fight and yes, they needed to know how to protect themselves, but was he enabling them? What would his predecessors think of him?

“Sorry to interrupt.”

He turned to see Kyoko, holding their baby daughter and beaming at him. “It’s Otou-san, Kaoru. Otou-san.”

Kaoru gave a delighted cry, waving her fist. How could he possibly be despondent?

Kyoko handed her off, and the baby’s soft cheek grazed his. She nuzzled, turning her face against his shoulder, and he held her tighter. Meeting his wife’s tender gaze, he smiled. “Thank you.”

Once Kaoru could toddle about, there was no stopping her, and she took obvious joy in being followed. Her wide smile over her shoulder was a precious thing to behold. When she’d fall, her tears weren’t out of pain but desire for comfort, for she quickly stopped once she was held. Soon enough, even those subsided, and she’d resume walking as if nothing happened.

After one such occurrence, Kyoko began to laugh. “Her face looks just like yours! So determined!”

“If that’s so, then she certainly takes after you too.” But he laughed as well.

It was during those blissful days that his father returned. He had sent a letter in advance, explaining he no longer had work in Kunitake’s area and would be transferring back home. Koshijiro personally suspected they had a falling-out but kept his reply succinct and inviting. Otou-san arrived with the summer heat, and Koshijiro stepped away from the dojo to greet him with a bow.

“Welcome back.”

“Koshijiro, it’s good to be home.” His father smiled. He was noticeably thinner, the lines on his face deeper. “Oh? Is that Kaoru-chan?”

He glanced towards the porch, to see his daughter staring at them, before she unsteadily ran into the house. “Oka! Oka!”

“Calling for her mother?” Otou-san’s tone was both amused and wistful.

“Her first word as well. Please, come in.” As he offered, he took his father’s satchel. It was surprisingly light. Had Otou-san sold his belongings…or was he kicked out?

Kyoko appeared, Kaoru clinging to her leg. “Welcome! Are you hungry at all? We can have lunch early.”

They settled him in, and the tension seemed to leave his frame. He was in his early sixties, Koshijiro thought, but his age had never shown until now. He moved slower, he slept heavier and longer, and he was not as boisterous as before. Worried, Koshijiro sent for one of Kyoko’s doctors. For the most part, Otou-san’s health was fair, but his heart was weak and they would have to keep an eye on him. Plenty of rest and a daily routine would help, and they did their best to make him comfortable. Otou-san dove into his art with full force, and more often than not, he could be found painting in the yard. He happily gave Kaoru any paper and ink she wanted to draw with, and allowed her to drum her fists against his back in a makeshift massage. He also got along well with Kyoko, who effortlessly charmed everyone in her orbit anyway. Most of his father’s paintings were sold, but if Kyoko expressed a liking for one, he would set it aside for safekeeping.

“Aha! I see the pattern now.” Otou-san clapped his hands together, after a brief survey of Kyoko’s choices. “You have a keen eye for the seasons. Spring, summer, autumn, winter.”

“Of course, and you depict them so well, Otou-sama. But do you have any preferences on what you paint?”

“Not particularly, though it’s better if everything I see remains still while I’m working.” He joked. “But that’s hardly ever the case. Such is life.” And to prove his point, Kaoru hurtled past him, running at full speed to escape a harried Osue, who was attempting to wash her face.

A few months later, they celebrated Kaoru turning three. The zori only lasted a few steps before she kicked them off with obvious relief and to Osue-san’s chagrin. Her pudgy hands held a long stick of chitose ame, which she eagerly crammed into her mouth.

“Yes, live a long, happy life, Kaoru.” Kyoko murmured. Her fatigue had been worse as of late, and she rested against Koshijiro’s shoulder.

When Kaoru dozed off too, worn out by the day’s activities, Koshijiro held her in his lap. Glancing about to make sure no one else was looking, he pressed a kiss on both of their cheeks, his wife’s cool one and his daughter’s slightly sticky one.

Now that she was old enough, Koshijiro had crafted a bokken to match Kaoru’s size, and she would follow along with morning stretches. Anything more would be too advanced, and she usually fussed when Kyoko had to pull her away. Eventually, Koshijiro noticed perforations in the rice paper, at about the eye level of a little girl. It then became a matter of catching her in the act. He listened carefully for a tiny pop, and after a moment, opened the door to find her staring up at him.

“Kaoru, did you do this?”

“No!” But she sucked in a breath and turned to run away. Koshijiro easily stepped around her.

“I’m going to ask again. Did you poke holes in the doors?”

She squirmed, her mouth petulantly twisting. “…it’s fun.”

“But it isn’t very nice. It worries me and your mother when we have to fix them. And we don’t like being mad at you. Can you be good and promise you’ll stop?” He extended his pinky finger towards her.

“Hmph.” She pouted but she linked her tiny finger with his and they shook on it.

“That’s a promise.”

Her voice was small and uncertain when she asked. “Do you hate me?”

“No, of course not. I never could, and Okaa-san feels the same way.” As the words left him, he suddenly remembered his own childhood voice, declaring that he would never be anything like his father. Gods, he must have caused Otou-san a great deal of pain and he’d never realized until now.

When he spoke with Kyoko, she insisted that they have a conversation. “You need to talk with him alone. There’s still time to make things right between you. As long as you’re alive, you can have another chance.”

He decided to do so, one morning. Otou-san was in his usual spot in the yard, trying to capture the autumn scenery with his paints. He shuffled towards the porch, spared a glance at Kyoko. She narrowed her eyes at his stalling, and urged him to keep moving with quick waves of her hand. Suppressing a sigh, he moved to stand by his father.

“That looks lovely.” He lamely nodded at the painting. What was he doing?

His father laughed. “Thank you. I know you’re not as passionate as I am about this, but I appreciate it. Is something on your mind?”

“I spoke to Kaoru about the holes in the door, and she reminded me of the past.” He slowly said. “I remember some of the unkind words I dealt to you when I was a child, and I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. As you said, you were a child and our situation was…unexpectedly complicated. But I never blamed you or your mother.” He set his brush down, resting it on a small ceramic dish with murky water. “I think if Miyo had been with us, like when you were younger, it might be easier to talk with each other. Maybe, she’d still be with us.”

The wind swept through, and a lull fell over them. Koshijiro cleared his throat, swallowing the sudden lump there. “Kyoko says people live on in the stories we tell.”

“She’s right.” He paused. “I never told you how I met your mother.”

“No, I don’t believe so.”

“Well, it wasn’t romantic. I fell asleep by the river, while sketching. I only meant to have a nap, but when I woke up, it was morning and Miyo was standing over me. Then, I kept seeing her all the time, while I was in town. Our paths crossed frequently after that. I was happy whenever I saw her, and disappointed when I didn’t. When I found that she was looking for work, I hired her. And after that, I only fell deeper. I was sure…that we could live happily together. But Otsuna and Kunitake were jealous. I knew they were, but I raised them like my own after my cousin and wife died. I did my best, trying not to choose. Miyo never told me she was pregnant with you, and when I met you, you were almost a year old. But I couldn’t let you either of you go again. You probably don’t remember much, but despite the circumstances at the time, the famine and uncertainty, those were some of the happiest days of my life.”

Something gave in his chest at his father’s words and sober expression. Otou-san was not perfect by any means, far from it, and yet…he was only human in the end. “That time is vague in my memories but I was happy too.”

“I am sorry though. I never meant for you to be hurt by your siblings, and I did speak to them multiple times. Their harassment is a failure on my part. I don’t know where I went wrong, but please believe that I never encouraged their behavior.”

“I believe you and that it’s not entirely your fault.” He assured. “There comes a point when immaturity is no longer an excuse and I doubt they ever found it. Years ago, I would have thought it difficult to uproot the resentment I have. But I can now. I do forgive you and I think I understand you a little better now. Even more so because I have Kyoko and Kaoru.”

Otou-san looked as if he was about to cry, and he was at a loss for what to do. Almost as if on cue, the door opened to signal someone was on the porch. Kaoru darted towards them, with a wide smile. “Jii-jii!” She twirled in place, her little ponytail flying. “This new ribbon is pretty, right?”

His father nodded, voice light. “Of course! It’s the same color as a rose. And you’re pretty from head to toe. And what does your Otou-san think?”

They both turned to him, and Koshijiro cleared his throat. “Yes, Kaoru, it’s very nice. Did Okaa-san buy it for you?”

“Uh-huh. We match now! Tou-san, come see.” She grabbed his hand, pulling him back towards the house amidst his father’s laughter. Kyoko had tied her own rose-colored ribbon in her bun, and she lifted her head from her sewing with a smile when they rejoined her at the table.

“Thank you.” He murmured.

“You’re welcome. How do you feel?”

“Better.”

“Then, that’s good.” Their private conversation was interrupted by Kaoru, wondering where one of her books was.

In the evenings, Kyoko read aloud to Kaoru, who had claimed a spot to nestle between them in their futon. Koshijiro was embarrassed whenever he fell asleep to his wife’s voice, but those were rare, since Kaoru would poke his side and ask if he wanted to read next. She would try to turn the pages for him, intent on helping move their nightly story forward. She already knew a few kanji, including her name, and Koshijiro was very proud.

There was one issue that arose. One of the new books Kaoru liked was about a family, which had multiple children. The youngest was a newborn girl, and Kaoru seemed fascinated, her fingers lingering on the baby’s descriptions. Once Kyoko ended the tale, the inevitable question came.

“Kaa-san?”

“Yes?”

“Where do babies come from?”

“Hmm.” Kyoko pretended to ponder over the matter. “Well, they appear when an Okaa-san and an Otou-san wish very hard.”

“Oh. So I will wish.”

“Wish for what, Kaoru?”

“A little sister!”

“That’s such a nice wish.” Kyoko mildly replied. “Now, let’s go to sleep.”

Koshijiro fervently hoped that would be the end, but as the seasons changed, Kaoru was still loudly expressing her desire for a younger sister. It became a daily inquiry, and at last, Koshijiro decided to gently break the news to her, before going to bed.

“Perhaps, you should think of a new wish. A little sister probably isn’t on its way.”

“Why not?” She demanded.

“W-well…” He stammered, thrown off guard. “It takes two people to make that kind of a request?” Kyoko immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes shut and shoulders trembling with concealed laughter. “Two adults, like me and your mother.”

“Tou-san, then wish with Kaa-san.”

What had he done to deserve this conversation? “But when a baby comes, you can’t exchange it, even if it’s a boy.”

“A little brother would be okay too, like Hitomi-chan’s.” Kaoru conceded, referring to one of her older playmates.

Thankfully, Kyoko took over, still smiling from the aftershocks. “Kaoru, we waited a very long time for you. We wished and prayed and nearly gave up. I don’t know if we can be that lucky a second time. But if you’re feeling lonely, let’s invite Hitomi-chan and your other friends over more often. And there are other children who live nearby too. Maybe, there will be someone who would like a big sister. What do you think?”

“…alright.” Over her head, Kyoko and Koshijiro exchanged relieved glances.

***

Emperor Meiji ascended to the throne, and a power struggle with the shogunate seemed imminent. Nothing in the news was particularly uplifting, a prelude to the certain turmoil.

One wintry morning, he passed by Otou-san’s room and stopped. The door was wide open, though without signs of a struggle. In the front, his father’s shoes were missing, and a quick scan confirmed that the yard was empty. A sense of foreboding overcame him. He walked past the gate, looking down the road to find a set of shallow footprints. They led to a large tree, shielding any snow from covering Otou-san’s sitting form. As he approached, the foreboding grew stronger, and it was only confirmed when he gently placed his palm upon his father’s shoulder. There was no heat at all. Otou-san’s face was perfectly tranquil, his final moments of acceptance, and Koshijiro bowed his head.

“Thank you, and goodbye. I’ll take you to Okaa-san now.”

The funeral was surprisingly crowded, with many people offering to pay their respects. It was clear that Otou-san had been respected and loved, by not only his colleagues but also the neighborhood and his fellow artists. Noticeably, there were two figures who never showed, but Koshijiro did not mind. It was best that his wife and daughter wouldn’t meet his siblings. Preferably never at all. Otou-san’s ashes were laid to rest beside the simple grave of the woman he loved, and Koshijiro blinked back sudden tears at the sight of his parents, reunited in death.

Kyoko’s familiar hand slipped into his. “It’s alright. You can cry, if you need to.” She gently said.

“Forgive me, Kyoko. I don’t know why-” He broke off, his voice shaky. He didn’t know why his composure was crumbling at this moment, when he had handled the funeral arrangements so steadily.

“Shh. I’m here, and so is Kaoru. We’re here.” Her gaze shone with her own tears, and Kaoru clung to Koshijiro’s other side, brows drawn together. They remained in a close huddle, all the way home. The house was quieter, and sometimes, there’d be an extra bowl set out by accident, but like years ago, the grief was easier to bear with time.

That spring, he was on midnight patrol, lantern in hand. A distant clamor rerouted him, and he kept one hand on the hilt of his katana as he hurried towards the shouts. A couple of shadows were already fleeing, leaving four bodies. One emitted a weak rattling cough. He drew closer and the lantern’s glow illuminated the man’s bloody face. “Hayashi?!” He checked for a pulse on his friend’s slick neck. Rapid, but present. He stabilized Hayashi, just as his colleagues rushed over.

The story was that it had been a group of ruffians, looking for anyone to rob in this economic crisis. Hayashi did survive, though at the cost of a maimed right leg. He was despondent; such an injury meant an end to kenjutsu and his service to his lord. “I’ll be thrown away, who wants a cripple for protection?”

“Don’t say that,” Koshijiro tried to persuade him. “Focus on getting better first, before returning to work.”

“As if. Just leave me to die and go back to your own dojo.” Hayashi snarled. That only served to steel Koshijiro. He wrote to Maekawa and Kikuhara, requesting their assistance, and continued to visit with food and water.

Maekawa was there within the week, and spoke nothing of kenjutsu, just boisterously singing as he cleaned Hayashi’s row house. Kikuhara was unable to do anything in person, but he sent packages of books, paintings, and other things to pass the time with. At first, Hayashi shouted at them, to the point where he wore himself out. They took meals at his bedside if he wouldn’t move and changed his dressings, and although Maekawa was skeptical that they were helping at all, Koshijiro insisted they were. Hayashi’s strength was slow to build, given his initial resistance, but he left his bed in order for them to stop nagging, as he put it, and scowled as he ate. He no longer raised his voice or spoke of dying. Despite his perpetual bitter mood, it was progress.

Koshijiro believed they were going to finally get him out of the house, only to find that the door chained in place. Hayashi had left a folded note in one of the edges. Thank you for staying with me, but I need to find my own way in life again.

A search resulted in nothing. Maekawa expressed his characteristic confidence that Hayashi would be fine, wherever he ended up, and Koshijiro reluctantly accepted that he had to trust his friend would continue to live on.

His dojo was faring well; there were many who were eager to learn how to fight or have their sons learn. At seven, Kaoru relished helping out, and he tended to ask for her to demonstrate, especially for the newcomers. She was as old as he was, when he first started learning, and with her head start, she was very good at kenjutsu and knew it. She loved being in the dojo, and although Koshijiro was proud of her enthusiasm, she did fight with some of the boys who were prejudiced towards a female classmate and mistakenly believed she was weaker. More than once, he had to break up a tussle. Punishment was dealt equally too, he didn’t want to favor his daughter and he could handle her grumpiness afterward. If she wanted to spar those boys in a designated match, however, he never objected.

Kyoko was much more apprehensive. “I’m not saying she can’t be in the dojo. I don’t want to confine her; I want her to enjoy life.” She was very firm about that sentiment, given her upbringing. “But I’m worried she’ll be hurt. It’s different for women. Men are allowed to bear scars with pride, whereas we’re expected to hide them.”

“I understand, but she’s growing up and she knows how to pick herself up when she falls. Kaoru’s resilient, like you.”

“That’s kind of you to say, dear.” It was an evasive reply. She still wasn’t mollified and fretted over Kaoru’s bruises and scrapes. Kaoru complained about the thick ointments, that most of her injuries were accidents and in the increasingly rarer fights, the dumb boys kind of deserved it. Koshijiro silently agreed with the latter point, as he bandaged his daughter up.

The majority of his students were now outside the samurai class, and somehow, word must have spread because he had a spectator who lingered after one class.

“Are you interested in joining?” Koshijiro inquired.

“It would be an honor but no. I am here as a representative of Omura.” The man smiled. “Have you heard of him?”

“Omura Masujiro? The Choshu strategist?”

“Yes, I’m glad you recognized him. But are you are aware of the cause he fights for?”

“It seems you’ll tell me regardless.”

There was the usual talk about sonno joi, or the expulsion of foreigners. But one thing caught Koshijiro’s attention. “The samurai class has abused their power and wealth for far too long. What we want is to remind them that at their core, they are no better than anyone else. To level the field, so to speak, and put an end to the four class system. Think about it, and we’ll be in town.” He provided the name of an inn they frequented and departed.

The conversation kept surfacing in Koshijiro’s thoughts. He did not believe that foreign influence was totally beneficial. The consequences of famine, economic turmoil, and disease were too severe to be ignored. Hayashi was one of many who had suffered from the growing unrest among the people. But it was too late to close the borders again. The military was already incorporating Western technology, and Choshu was offering military training to commoners. Omura’s follower spoke of humbling the samurai. Abolishing the class structure…he could accept that idea. Takaoka was supporting Satsuma and Choshu, the leaders of the rebellion. They were gathering anyone who was willing to go to Kyoto and assist in the fight to end the shogunate. A number of samurai from Oyumi were going, including Koshijiro’s direct superior, but before he could leave, he had to speak to Kyoko and Kaoru.

Kyoko responded first. “Of course, I want you to stay and be safe. If you leave, you might never return. But…” She stared at her own hands, wrapped around her teacup. A few wisps of hair escaped from behind her ear, and he reached over to tuck them back. “You feel very strongly about this.” With an inhale, she firmly straightened and met his gaze. “Promise us you’ll survive.”

“I promise. Will you and Kaoru be alright?”

Their daughter hadn’t said anything yet, her eyes wide as she looked at them. Kyoko reached for her hands, drawing her closer.

“Kaoru and I will be fine. I’m certain we won’t be the only women left behind either. We’ll manage and welcome you home when you return.”

“We’ll be here, Otou-san, don’t worry about us.” Kaoru’s voice was subdued, but she attempted a smile.

“Thank you. I’ll be home again before you know.”

He had been very naïve.

***

His first experience with war could never be forgotten. From the march on foot to the first battle cry in earshot, it all stayed with him. Most of the early days blurred together, leaving the impression of sore feet and shoulders. But when they reached Kyoto, the adrenaline surged within him and his fingers shook as he loaded his gun.

One moment, it was quiet. The next, commands were shouted down the line, and then, there was cracking gunfire and smoke. The soldier next to him was struck by a bullet. The man in front was cut down, blood seeping through his uniform. Behind him, an enemy cannonball landed on people he couldn’t name but their screams of agony echoed forever.

It was madness. Every day was a fresh ordeal.

The first time he killed a man, it was with his sword. It had been a long day, and his opponent was too slow for one moment. That was all it took, Koshijiro’s blade sinking deeper than either of them expected. The man’s features slackened, and Koshijiro knew he was already gone. The body twitched several times, before finally falling as the sword was removed. Koshijiro’s feet were planted to the ground, which was gradually darkening in color.

I’m sorry.

The words died on his tongue, as a bullet flew past, the sound deafening and reminding him that to stay still in battle meant death. He couldn’t linger, he had to keep moving. He had promised Kyoko and Kaoru he would come home to them, and that became his anchor on the battlefield. Even if doing so meant that he had to feel hollow for all of the rest.

***

“Otou-san? Otou-san?”

Koshijiro jolted. Kaoru was standing before him. When had she approached? He hadn’t noticed.

She beamed at him. “We’re having lunch now.” The sunlit yard stretched behind her, and he gripped the edges of the porch.

He had been home for a week, yet nothing felt real. He should be happy, he was alive and not in bad shape. Many men had not returned at all. But he felt like part of him had been left behind on the battlefield, drifting aimlessly and pulling the rest of him with it until a loud noise startled him and then he was on edge. It wore him out; he was constantly tired, despite waking well after sunrise. And there were the nightmares. He didn’t feel right.

Things had changed in Chiba too. Osue had succumbed to pneumonia in his absence, and he had already paid numb respects to the faithful old woman. Kyoko was understandably melancholy, not helped at all by how her illness had taken a turn. She was on bedrest, and her medicines had increased in quantity. Neither of them were sure how well they were working.

“We met a woman who teaches kenjutsu.”

“You did?”

“Her name is Chiba-san, as in the Chiba clan. Kaoru and I were buying groceries, and she was in her uniform. She was kind enough to invite us to her afternoon lesson. Kaoru really enjoyed it, so I feel more at ease.”

“Then, you can attend her lessons more often. It would be good for Kaoru.” He hadn’t been teaching, he wasn’t ready. Kyoko understood, but Kaoru clearly missed it. Even though she liked Chiba-san’s lessons, he overheard the two of them talking, while they thought he was having a nap.

“Is Otou-san going to be okay?”

“I don’t know yet, Kaoru.”

“He doesn’t talk about the war. It must have been scary.”

“It would be better not to ask. There are some things your father can’t share with us, that he wants to shield us from.” Kyoko evenly said. “When it’s time, he’ll share.”

“And what if he never does?”

“Then, that’s alright. We’ll be here to support him, just like always. He’s still your Otou-san, no matter what.”

“Oh. I get it now.”

His sight flooded and he doubled over. Kyoko and her infinite patience! And his innocent daughter, whose feelings were hurt. Here he was, being pathetic. He didn’t step out to acknowledge them, but he resolved in his heart that he would try to return to normal.

He wrote a routine for himself, including meditation and what to think of to pull himself back to reality. He was out of bed before his wife and daughter, to clean the dojo and equipment, before reintroducing kenjutsu back into his life. But he couldn’t use a real blade anymore. Never again, not even to keep students. He couldn’t let go of the sword, but he could forge a new relationship with it, to protect who was important to him. He began drafting new kata, on defending and disarming. The work anchored him even further, kept him from falling too deeply into listlessness.

Kyoko and Kaoru were encouraging, every step of the way. His wife woke him from the worst nightmares, and she intuitively knew when to give him space and when to be near. She always made her presence known, never startling him. When he returned to work, his satchel hid little notes in her handwriting, heartfelt reminders that pushed back against his dark thoughts. Kaoru was determined to make him smile once a day. Her good cheer was infectious, as she took over in leading their daily stretches. Upon finding her mother’s notes, she added her own, complete with the signature she was practicing. One of her first sewing projects was a handkerchief for him, a fine dark green with three leaves, and she presented it with such pride, his weariness lifted.

It wasn’t always easy. Some days, he faltered, folded in on himself. It wasn’t until months later that he could think back and realize how low he had been. He wasn’t certain if he’d ever feel like that again, but he learned to recognize the triggers and cope.

Now that the Emperor had moved to the freshly renamed Tokyo and there was peace at last, properties were up for grabs. The more Koshijiro heard, the more he leaned into the possibility. There was excellent medical care in the capital, and plenty of work to be had. The influx of people also meant more potential students. It was a time for change, and when would another opportunity like this occur again?

The paperwork was quickly finalized and they packed their belongings. By year’s end, they were settled into their new home in Tokyo. Koshijiro had commissioned renovations and additions, and though the house was larger than needed for a family of three, he and Kyoko discussed accepting boarders to pay off the debt. But the bathhouse was worth it, to the delight of Kyoko and Kaoru, and he liked his dojo very much. The wood smelled fresh and fragrant, and he pivoted in the open space. The light poured in, washing over his face. This was his school, the one he had yearned for all these years. A school of swordsmanship that would use the blade to protect, never to kill. A school that would represent a vow for the present and a wish for the future.

Kamiya Kasshin. The living heart.

***

At first, he thought the Kamiya plot had moved, because there were only supposed to be three graves, for his parents and Kyoko. So the fourth had puzzled him for a moment, before he realized whose it was. Oh. Well, this was very strange, to see his own grave.

“Kenkaku Koshimichi Koki…?” He muttered. The Buddhist name he had been granted for the afterlife felt like it belonged to a different person entirely.

Fortunately, there weren’t many weeds. The ones that were present gave his right shoulder enough work. As he was finishing up, a kind couple offered to scrub down the headstones and light the incense. They made small talk, that they were newlyweds and he had married into her family. They refused any monetary payment, and with clasped hands, they were soon on their way. Alone, Koshijiro knelt.

“I’m a little early, but I thought these flowers would be nice. And sorry, that Kaoru isn’t here with me.” It would be nearly eighteen years ago, that she was born. “I’d rather celebrate her birthday when she’s home. We’ve missed out on that, the past two times.”

The wind ruffled his hair. It was getting longer, he needed a trim.

“I’ve been working on adjusting Kamiya Kasshin, for a one-handed variant. Not just for me, but for Yutaro and those in similar situations. It would also be good for anyone who’s been injured.” For that matter, injured people weren’t far from his mind. “Even though I’d like to be there, fighting with them.” He stood, brushed off his sore knees, and gave a last smile. “I’ll be back for Obon, with Kaoru and everyone else.”

***

After multiple appointments, Kyoko finally spoke the truth aloud. “I’m not going to live much longer, am I?”

Dr. Gensai slowly nodded. “Yes. I wish I could do something, anything.”

“You’ve done so much already, ever since we moved here last year.”

Kaoru worked her way under Kyoko’s arm, half-crawling into her lap. “Okaa-san.”

Koshijiro was barely listening, the world closing upon the clinic’s room. Nothing seemed real at that moment.

As the days passed, the neighborhood pitched in. His police colleagues covered extra shifts in his place, and their wives kept Kyoko company while he was working. He received plenty of groceries with a hand wave in regards to payment, which he never got used to. There was always something on the table for dinner. An acquaintance by some degrees, the apprentice of an artisan who had admired the work of Kamiya Keiichiro, offered to paint Kyoko’s picture, free of charge. The ink portrait was very somber, unlike his wife, but Kyoko appreciated the gesture. To Dr. Gensai and the rest of their visitors, she seemed accepting and strong.

However, when it was just the two of them, she was afraid of dying.

“I don’t want to go. I need to live, just a while longer, until Kaoru is a little older.” She sobbed, and it took all of Koshijiro’s willpower not to break down. He held her and didn’t speak, his throat burning.

Kaoru was on her best behavior, ensuring her mother was warm and had food. She braided both of their hair at night and chose Kyoko’s clothes in the morning. She read aloud, stumbling on a few unfamiliar words and making up for the little mistakes with her own interest in the novels.

Sometimes, his wife was too fatigued by the pain in her abdomen. Her hand shook when she drew her fingers through Kaoru’s ponytail. It was too easy for her to be out of breath. But she was focused on one task in particular, and he found her carefully writing when she was able.

“It’s our family book.” She showed him the familiar cover of the volume that told the stories of their pasts. She had been updating it over the years. “The next few pages are for Kaoru, for when she’s a young woman. I’ve already written your pages, for when you feel troubled.”

“Kyoko…”

“I only want you to be well. And I’m sorry.” She pressed the heel of her palm to her eyes and gave a short laugh. “Oh no, not again.”

“No, Kyoko, don’t apologize.” He drew her trembling form into his arms and breathed in the scent of her hair. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You’ve fought a harder battle than many ever will, and even now, you handle it with grace in front of Kaoru.”

“I don’t want her to worry about me, but I think she knows anyway. She’s a good girl, our daughter. She’ll be a lovely young lady someday.” Her tone was bittersweet with longing. “My kimonos have been set aside for her?”

“Yes, for when the time is right.”

“Mm. Hopefully, they won’t be too out of fashion.”

“They’ll suit Kaoru well. I saw the blue one with the cranes, the one you wore when we met.”

“That was almost twenty years ago, right? I still remember that day, I knew you were kind and honorable. I think I loved you from the moment I told you my name. I never expected to have this, any of this. But I’ve seen the cherry blossoms each year with you, my husband who I’m very proud of. Every day with you has been wonderful.”

“I haven’t been at my best every day. Most days, perhaps even half.”

She shook her head, mouth curving upwards. “No, really. Every day.” She brought her hand to the side of his face, and he leaned in to kiss her.

By autumn, she was in the hospital again. She was deteriorating fast, yet she held onto Koshijiro’s hand as the doctors came in and out. She was too weak to leave her bed, and he held back her hair when her nausea was too powerful to keep at bay. The worst was when she didn’t seem to recognize him or Kaoru, rapidly blinking at them when they greeted her. Her confusion was frightening, and he always ushered Kaoru out, saying that Okaa-san needed her rest. But she was sharp enough to notice.

“It’s so hard to see her like this. I wish I could do something!” She exclaimed, kicking a stray pebble in the road.

“I feel the same. I’d rather it be me in her place.”

“Otou-san, you shouldn’t be in the hospital either.” Kaoru corrected, slumping. “All of us should be home.”

He couldn’t argue, and he took her hand as they departed.

The weather chilled, the leaves bright with color. Flowers were in rare abundance, but they managed to procure an armful of pink dianthus. Kaoru strode into the hospital room, petals falling in her wake.

“Okaa-san, we’re here to visit!”

“Hello.” Her voice was barely audible but her expression was warm.

Koshijiro was relieved she was lucid. “I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.”

“No, I just woke up. What time is it?”

He told her, as Kaoru arranged the bouquet by the window.

“Oh, they’re beautiful. Thank you.” Tears welled up in her gaze. “You have such a good heart, Kaoru.” She swallowed hard, intent on making her words count. “You’ve been so helpful, so sweet and strong. I’ve told you as much as I can, but if it isn’t enough, know that you’re never alone. Listen to Otou-san, and remember that he wants what’s best for you. There’s always the book, if you need it.”

“I know where the book is. I just want you.” Kaoru quietly replied.

Kyoko was too overcome to speak, cupping Kaoru’s face. Koshijiro sat at her other side, wrapping his arm around her. They huddled close, their conversation meandering; what mattered most was that they were in the present together, for as long as it could last. Eventually, Kyoko’s breathing deepened and her eyes struggled to stay open.

“We’ll be back later.” Koshijiro promised, hesitantly extricating himself.

“See you soon, Okaa-san. Love you.” Kaoru kissed her cheek, and Kyoko gave a fragile smile.

“I love you too. I love you both so much.” Those were her last words, before she fell asleep.

By the following evening, she still hadn’t woken. A number of white-clad hospital staff filled her room, exchanging words that swept over his understanding until someone explained. Kyoko was comatose. He was going to send Kaoru home, but she stamped her foot and insisted on staying. One of the doctors offered a spare office for her to sleep in, while Koshijiro remained by Kyoko’s side. It would not be long before the end, he was warned but he would not budge. He wouldn’t let her go while she was alone.

Her weak pulse fluttered under his thumb, stopping for long seconds before picking up again. His dear, persistent Kyoko. He cupped her cheek and bent his head close, uncertain if she could hear him, but he whispered into her ear. “It’s alright, Kyoko. We don’t want you to be in pain. It’s alright.”

It was ultimately a blessing that Kyoko did not linger. Before midnight, she slipped away. Koshijiro pressed his lips to hers, in one last kiss. Then, he went to Kaoru.

She stirred awake when he touched her shoulder. “Otou-san?” Her eyes were wide with apprehension.

“She’s gone.”

“Can I see her?”

He could only nod, and he led her into the room. Kaoru climbed onto the hospital bed, and stifled her sobs into Kyoko’s neck. He held her cold hand, engraving the memory of her skin into his mind. They remained there until the very last minute.

***

The funeral was accompanied by a light rain. His arms were burdened with the container of Kyoko’s ashes, and his shoulders hunched unconsciously to protect what was left of his wife from the weather. Kaoru walked beside him, quiet and matching one of his paces with two of her own. The stoic procession marched to the cemetery, and Kyoko was buried in heavy silence.

Time passed by sluggishly. The house was too quiet, and he resorted to kenjutsu, to an escape. If he kept his body occupied and moving, he would not have to think about how empty he felt.

“Otou-san?”

The timid question stopped him mid-step, and he turned to see his daughter standing in the doorway.

“Um. I tried to make lunch. Do you want to eat yet? Because you didn’t have breakfast…”

His gut reaction was to decline, he had probably lost his appetite forever. But he stared at his daughter’s round eyes, the quiver in her chin as she waited for his answer.

No. I can’t give up, I’m all Kaoru has now, and so, I must keep up my strength.

“Alright. Let’s have lunch.”

The onigiri were misshapen, lopsided triangles. There was probably a little too much salt, but to his fatigued body, the flavor wasn’t bad. The rice was definitely undercooked though, and the only sound in the room was the crunch of grains between teeth.

Then, there was a sniffle. Koshijiro lifted his head, to see Kaoru frowning and wiping away tears, even as she chewed. “Sorry.” She warbled. “It doesn’t taste good.”

“Kaoru…” He reached over the table, to awkwardly pat her head. “If anyone should apologize, it’s me. I’m your father, it’s my duty to provide for you. But I’ve been neglecting you. I’m so sorry.”

“Mm.” She squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing her sleeve across her face.

“Don’t worry about cooking anymore. I’ll hire a new housekeeper to take care of that. I’ll also open the rooms to boarders so we can pay off the rest of the debt. Soon, I’ll continue teaching.”

“Can I be a student again?”

“Yes. The position of head student will always be yours, until you can teach with me.”

“And then?”

“And then, you’ll be assistant instructor. After that, head instructor. The dojo will be yours, and I’ll write it down so no one can take that away from you.”

Kaoru nodded. “Otou-san?”

“Hm?”

“Can I talk about Okaa-san?”

“Your mother loved stories. I think she’d like nothing more than for you to tell stories about her.”

She slowly nodded. “Will you?”

“Perhaps not right away. But even if I don’t speak, she’s always here.” He placed his hand over his heart. “And here.” He pointed to the same spot on his daughter, and she laid her fingers upon it in understanding.

“Okay. I can talk about her for both of us.”

He didn’t respond, but he patted her head again and they continued on.

It was not easy, raising a daughter alone. As much as Kaoru looked like his dear wife, she had inherited her temper from him. They did argue, over trivial matters in hindsight, but such discussions usually ended in Kaoru slamming the door to her room and for him to thumb through his designated pages in Kyoko’s book, rereading her overarching message of love and patience. He would not repeat the mistakes of his youth, and he would knock on her door, requesting that they talk. Thankfully, her anger usually blew over quickly and he made it a point to apologize to each other.

Kamiya Kasshin was ultimately a family project. Kaoru was the first student to try the new techniques, and from observing her as well, Koshijiro made necessary changes and adjustments. His daughter was a natural at kenjutsu, and she freely challenged him.

“Wouldn’t another step work for this kata? I feel like I need to get my balance back from the last turn.”

“That’s fine, but you might run into trouble if you’re in a tight space.”

“Well, that just means it’s more important to rebalance.”

“It seems the turn’s causing the issue. What if we move it up, earlier in the sequence?”

“Yeah, that could work too!”

He did hire a housekeeper, but the middle-aged woman was far stricter than her initial interview conveyed. She heavily disapproved of Kaoru’s love for swordsmanship, insisting that she rise before dawn and sleep late, to complete extra household tasks. But Kaoru was unhappier every day, and it came to a head when the housekeeper mentioned the dreaded word of “marriage”. Kaoru was late for practice and he was searching for her, overhearing the raised voices in the kitchen.

“Why would I care about some husband I haven’t even met yet?” Kaoru exploded. “I’m me and I should be loved for who I am, not because I’m ladylike enough!”

“Your education should have started when you were much younger. Now, I fear it’s too late to salvage.” She glanced over at Koshijiro, striding towards them. “Ah, here’s your father.” If she was expecting him to defend her viewpoint, he was glad to disappoint her.

“I need her in the dojo. Don’t delay her and for that matter, we will not speak of marrying her off. Kaoru is only ten.” He firmly stated. “End of discussion.”

“You spoil her far too much. If she were my daughter, she’d be a proper girl and run the house on her own. I’m not sure what your wife did-”

“And that is where you stop, because she’s not your child, she’s mine.” He coldly dismissed her. “Pack your things and I’ll give you your pay for the week. We have no more need of your services.”

She huffed and gave them nasty looks but didn’t say another word. Before noon, the gate soundly shut behind her.

“Well…that probably went as well as it could.” He said at last.

Kaoru laughed. “I thought it was great. Thank you, Otou-san.” She hugged him and he patted her head. Then, she pouted. “Does this mean we need to find someone new?”

“We can wait a while.” Soon after, they met Sekihara Tae, whose friendship was much appreciated.

When Kaoru was twelve, they had the pleasant surprise of a visitor. Kikuhara was traveling through, and he was interested in the school Koshijiro had described in a New Year’s card. He joined the class as an observer, then to help with basic forms. He began to follow along with the students, and he caught on quickly. After a month, he held his own in sparring against Koshijiro. Kaoru called the close match in Koshijiro’s favor, but they were happy with the outcome.

Kikuhara’s objective seemed to be complete too. He opened a pocket watch and examined the inside. “It’s time for me to go. I have someone to return to now.” With a smile, he turned the watch around to show Koshijiro a photograph of a young girl, no older than five. “My daughter, Midori.”

“A daughter? You…married?”

“No.” Kikuhara paused. “I haven’t told anyone else this, but she’s the illegitimate child of my lord. I was tasked to care for her, but the moment she was placed in my arms, I knew she was as good as my own. She’s very frail though, and she isn’t interested in kenjutsu, unlike your Kaoru. But she’s kindhearted, like her real father.”

“With no offense to your lord, you are her father now and I’m sure she misses you.” Koshijiro pointed out without malice. “If you need any advice on raising her, please let me know.”

“I’ll remember, senpai.” He joked. “I will be sure to bother you about teaching as well. I like some of the kata from Kamiya Kasshin, and its message is honorable. I’m interested in sharing it in Echigo, alongside my own family’s tradition. Would you mind?”

“Not at all.”

“And I’ll call it…Kasshin Shintoryu Kikuhara?”

“Please don’t, you can just keep your family’s name for the school.” He was embarrassed.

“No, it’s a good name, and I’ll be happy to teach under its sign.” At the end of his stay, they saw him off with waves and promises of a future reunion, when Midori was older.

Years passed. He filled a book with the knowledge of Kamiya Kasshin, leaving it in the altar alongside Kyoko’s volume. Kaoru was promoted to assistant instructor after demonstrating mastery in the last kata, and she taught the youngest students while he focused on the older ones. They made a good team. The dojo was raucous with clashing bokken and conversation, and for some time, life was uneventful.

***

That changed when Kumamoto Castle was taken by the Satsuma army. Before the week’s end, the draft letter arrived, summoning Koshijiro to the warfront once more. He was standing frozen in the front yard and numbly rereading the notice, thinking of how he could hide it before he had a proper chance to speak to Kaoru, when she called out.

“Otou-san, what’s taking you so long?” Too late, her gaze landed on the official stamp on the envelope, and she immediately blanched. “Otou-san?”

“I’m sorry, Kaoru.”

“Why are you apologizing?!” She gave a nervous laugh. “It’s not like you chose to go.”

“In a way, I did when I joined the police.”

“Otou-san, don’t say that. I know you don’t really think so.” She touched his shoulder. “Are you going to be alright?”

“I’m more worried about you. You’ll be alone.”

“No, I won’t. I have the students, and Tae’s in town. And I can always bring on more boarders.” At his distasteful expression, she scowled. “Don’t say anything about protecting me, because I can defend myself. You know I can!”

“I’m only telling you to be cautious.”

“I am.” She grumbled.

He excused himself, to find two items. One was his tanto, and the other was his father’s. He handed the sheathed blades to her. “Keep one under your pillow, and the other in the secret compartment in the bathhouse.”

“Otou-san.”

“Remember to lock your room every night.”

“Otou-san, I’ll remember. But how are you coping? You’re being called back to war, you’ll have to…” Kill people again. The unspoken words hung in the air.

“I don’t look forward to it, but I will do my best to avoid a worst case scenario. With Kamiya Kasshin, I can disarm as many as I can.”

At that, she lit up. “So, we should train as much as possible. And I want to master the succession techniques before you go!”

That was a good idea. After lessons, they practice sparred, and Koshijiro pinpointed where she needed to improve. Not that there was much, but he wanted to teach her everything he could before leaving. The last afternoon eventually came; Kaoru focused solely on Hadome and Hawatari. She was on the verge of breaking through, and she recognized as much.

“I almost had it! And I knew where I went wrong too! One more time, Otou-san?”

“No, you’re tired. It’s already been over two hours, and I can tell you’re too exhausted to proceed any further today. We should stop here.”

She groaned, slumping. “But I wanted to master them before you left, so you can see.”

“Mastering these techniques shouldn’t be rushed, especially for my sake. You are close. So, not yet, but you’re getting better every time.” He wouldn’t be here to watch her progress though, after this day.

She must have thought so too, for she set her bokken aside and fiercely hugged him. He squeezed her back, hoping it could convey all of what he couldn’t say aloud.

The morning of departure was somber. Kaoru made breakfast, which he ate without complaint. He donned his uniform and hated that his daughter looked so sad when she saw him. However, she didn’t mention it, only asking if he had everything he needed. She trailed him past the front door, the frosted grass crackling under their footsteps.

“I’ll see you soon, Otou-san.” She said, decidedly using the temporary farewell.

“Yes. Protect the school while I’m gone, and go back inside, before you catch a cold. I’ll see you soon, Kaoru.” He clasped her shoulder, hoping to give some strength to her. Then, with great reluctance, he let go and walked alone. He closed the gate behind him, waited until Kaoru locked it again, and headed into town to join his regiment.

The journey to Satsuma was taxing, as they sailed towards Kyushu. He wasn’t as young as many of the other men, and when they camped on the southern island, he fell asleep once his head touched his pillow. The nightmares trickled back, becoming more convoluted every night. The return to the battlefield was dreaded by the other policemen, especially since they were only given wooden batons and swords. He couldn’t help but be somewhat relieved by the lack of a gun. He struck at shoulders, feet, anywhere that wasn’t lethal.

Months passed, as Saigo Takamori’s defeat forced him to flee and the Imperial army followed suit. The minor skirmishes with Saigo’s men culminated into a pincer attack on the Satsuma rebels. Koshijiro gritted his teeth and continued with striking through. To move forward, so this could be over as soon as possible. Suddenly, the line fell back, and he was perplexed for a moment, before the surrounding shouts alerted that there would be shelling. The order was to retreat, to gain as much distance for the explosions that would soon rock the battleground. Koshijiro didn’t even have to time to sheath his sword, the adrenaline humming under his skin, demanding to run as fast and far as he could. The men were tripping over each other and cursing, the fear and apprehension whittling their tempers.

A distant boom, then faint screams. Two steps later, it repeated, only closer. How much time did he have left? Koshijiro’s heart pounded out the tense seconds. A young soldier, barely older than Kaoru, stumbled to his right. Koshijiro switched his katana to his left hand and grabbed the boy’s collar. Using the momentum of his own body, he thrust the boy in front. “Take cover!” He bellowed.

Sound. It deafened him.

Force. His left arm, still outstretched behind him, twisted.

Heat. It seemed to split his skin open.

Pain. And that was enough for his eyes to roll back.

Forgive me, Kaoru-

***

He woke up, and he could hardly draw breath. He blinked. He had his sight. He was on his back, staring up at a white ceiling. The clamor of groaning men filled his ears. The smells of urine and blood were strong, and he didn’t dare open his dry mouth. He was in a hospital, a crowded one at that. For how long, he didn’t know.

I’m Kamiya Koshijiro, forty-five years old. I have a daughter, Kaoru, who is seventeen. We live in Tokyo. I work with the Tokyo Metropolitan police. I teach Kamiya Kasshin, the sword that protects.

There, his memory was intact. Although when he tried to remember what happened after the explosion, he couldn’t recall anything after the storm of sensation. He must have fainted. He twitched his fingers, his toes. No pain. He turned his head right. Well, his neck wasn’t broken, just stiff. Against his pillow, there was soft friction; the back of his head was bandaged. His right forearm bore the healing crust of a scrape, and he deduced he must have fallen on that side. But he could move his wrist and elbow joints, so there were no fractures. He checked the left-

Immediately, he jerked his head away. Shock kicked in. He didn’t have an arm. His left arm was gone. There was just wrapped white cloth, encasing the end of his shoulder. Then, why could he still feel it, down to the fingertips? He looked again, to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

He stared and stared and stared. He didn’t have an arm.

Distantly, he heard a nurse call out that he was awake, and footsteps approached. A doctor introduced himself before asking identifying questions. Koshijiro’s voice was raspy from disuse but he demonstrated he knew who he was. The doctor provided new details.

Koshijiro was in a hospital close to one of the harbors in Satsuma. A week had passed. The Imperial army was fighting on, with the last of the rebel forces weakened. Most of the province was back in the Emperor’s control and it would be a matter of weeks before Saigo surrendered. Reportedly, Koshijiro was found on the battlefield, alone and unconscious. When he was moved here, he had convulsed to reality and blood loss brought him under again.

Overall, he was in rough shape. The explosion had singed some of his hair off, and his skull had to be partially shaved. He had superficial burns on his back, that worsened on his left side. His right knee was swollen and abraded, and part of his big toenail was torn. His body bore minor cuts and bruises from landing. And he no longer had a left arm. The doctor actually had to remove more bone and tissue because what remained after the blast was not clean. But it was free from shrapnel and they could only do their best to prevent gangrene.

He was warned that there would be pain, that his body would not properly recognize that his left arm was gone. Multiple medicines were given to him, and his mouth gained a perpetual bitter taste. He slept in fits throughout his stay. All around him, other men were dying. He always noticed when another body was carried out.

A week passed, but he wasn’t quite healing. He forced himself to look at the dressings as they were changed, and they didn’t seem promising. He bitterly thought he couldn’t recover as well as he could in this place, but he had no say here. And then, one morning, he felt lethargic and his stomach sank in realization. A small part of him clung to hope that it would pass soon, but he forgot it as he became more and more delirious.

The hospital staff was saying he was feverish, and he groggily understood it was bad, because he felt so cold. Sleep was tempting. There was more medicine, more people hovering over him. He felt numb, it would be very easy to sleep forever. Too weak to struggle, his eyes closed.

He did not expect to dream.

He was sitting on the porch, the moon abnormally large and bright above. A quiet warm summer’s night. And he couldn’t see her, but he could feel Kyoko’s presence, as if she was standing behind him.

You’re so close.

I know. But not yet, Kyoko. I made a promise to you, didn’t I?

It was as if she was laughing, her breath warm against his neck. Then, please go home.

Yes. He couldn’t possibly disobey and he was swallowed once more by the void.

When he woke, his fever had broken. To the doctors’ surprise and awe, he had overcome the infection. He didn’t feel like it was miraculous at all; he had made promises and he intended to keep them. Once he heard his wounds were healed, he declared. “I’m leaving.” The response was dismissive, until he tried to leave his bed. He’d had enough of being in the hospital, he argued, and he’d heal more if he wasn’t restrained. That only sent him to another facility, with others in slightly better condition. From so much time on bedrest, he was frustratingly weak, and his legs shook underneath him when he attempted to walk around. But he pushed on, easily recalling a blue-clad figure with braids in her family’s yard, and conjuring a younger one, years later, who must be teaching in the dojo. Even if he no longer had one arm, he still had the other, his legs, and his head. That was good enough to get by. By the time he was discharged, the war had ended with Saigo’s suicide. His return home was overdue but winter’s approach undercut his pace. He was trying desperately not to get sick again.

The initial leg was frustratingly slow. He had no money, and any innkeeper dismissed his offer of labor. One benefit about his amputation was that it was noticeable, and kind strangers would grant him a night or two in a stable or on a fishing boat. But most people tended to avoid his gaze, so he did his best to keep moving. The new phantom pains were excruciating, his ghostly arm wrenching as it had in its final moments. Those incapacitating occasions, as well as his poor physical shape, forced him to rest often, to his chagrin.

He took one such break, on the wayside of a market street. He had managed to buy passage back to Honshu, though it meant he had to agree to a slight detour, since the port was not close to the main roads he recognized. This town was bustling with naval activity, thanks to the iron ships anchored in the dark water. The marine air was soothing, and the latest episode of pain ebbed with each deep breath.

“Ojii-san, where did your arm go?”

He startled, and in his periphery, a little boy stared at him with round eyes. There was a flood of emotion, but his most prominent thought was: I can’t tell this child it was blown off! “Well…” He searched for an appropriate thing to say. “I traded it.”

“For what?”

“So I could go home.”

A woman in her early thirties approached, holding the hand of a slightly older boy. “Sadatake! Oh, I’m so sorry.” The mother was so mortified, bowing her head multiple times. Her obi rested low, under the modest curve of her belly. “Sadatake, apologize to this uncle.”

“Sorry.”

“Please, don’t concern yourselves over it.”

She searched his face for a moment. “You look like you could use some rest and good food. Why don’t you come to our place? My husband wouldn’t mind at all.”

“I couldn’t impose.”

“No, I insist.” She pressed her palm on her rounded abdomen and smiled beatifically. The underlying message was not to upset her. “And my husband’s heading this way right now.” She directed her gaze over his shoulder, and he pivoted.

What he saw stunned him.

The man had plenty of silver in his hair, and his right leg dragged with each step, though the sleeping toddler draped over his shoulder didn’t help. Those fox eyes had regained their spark and framed by creases, they widened in recognition. “Kamiya? Kamiya Koshijiro?”

“Hayashi.” He shook his head at the incredulity of the moment, and he gestured to the site of his recent loss. “After all this time, I would certainly like to talk to you.”

The family led the way to a modest house, near Hayashi’s workplace at a naval office. The boys were young, having turned three, five, and seven, and they had just finished celebrating the milestone thrice over. Hayashi was a long way off from his former devastated self. Koshijiro felt a mixture of relief and sympathy as he watched his friend mind the little ones’ table manners at dinner.

“Sadakazu, here, move your cup away so you won’t spill it. Sadanori, wipe your mouth.” Even as he was speaking, he was already carrying out the actions, inspecting his youngest’s face one last time to ensure it was thoroughly clean. Hayashi’s wife fondly watched the spectacle, as Sadatake ate beside her.

The comfort of having a meal at a full table was a balm to Koshijiro’s weary spirit. After the dishes were cleared and the boys were sent to bed, despite their loud protests, Hayashi poured out two cups of warm sake. Koshijiro inhaled the fragrance, appreciating the liquor.

“Been saving up this bottle for a while, and I’m glad I did. I haven’t had the chance to drink in a while either.”

He took a sip. Just hot enough and very good indeed. “I didn’t know you’d become a family man.”

“I didn’t really expect to be one.” Hayashi admitted. “During the Bakumatsu, I was here, watching the troops travel past and trying not to feel useless. But Akie’s family clan sided with the Satcho alliance, and that’s how we met. There wasn’t much of a ceremony, because we married against her family’s wishes. I don’t blame them; I can still hardly believe she’d pick me. But before I could scare her off, the boys came along. Now it’s twins, so I hope at least one of them can convince the rest to be calm and kind to their old father.”

Koshijiro laughed. It was the first time in months, he realized, that he had. “You’ll miss some of it when they’re this young.”

“You have a family, don’t you? A daughter?”

“Yes, Kaoru is in Tokyo. Kyoko passed away, seven years ago.”

Hayashi’s jaw clenched. “I’m sorry. But you made her happy, anyone could see that. ”

Koshijiro chose not to reply, instead drinking from his cup.

“How old is your daughter now?”

“She’s seventeen.” He had missed her birthday. Discomfort spread through him.

“Damn, you’ll probably be marrying her off before the twins arrive.”

“Kaoru’s still young.”

“I was married to my first wife when I was younger than that.” Hayashi countered. “And it’s been months since you’ve been gone.”

Koshijiro frowned. “I need to return.”

“Ah, you haven’t changed much at all.” His friend grinned. “Maekawa’s in Tokyo too, right? Well, don’t tell him or anyone else yet that I’m here. I will, when I’m ready. Probably after Akie delivers.”

“I think they’d be glad to know you’re living well, but I understand.” The last of the alcohol was drained, and Hayashi thumped his back before urging him to retire. That night, he slept comfortably.

Before dawn broke, he intended to leave quietly, not to bother them anymore and to get a head start on his day. But he wasn’t as quiet as he hoped, for rustling noises carried over into the hallway. He tried to quicken his pace, but a door slid open.

“Gotcha.”

His sighed. “Good morning, Hayashi. And Akie-san.” The couple walked towards him with intent, Hayashi’s hand in his robe.

His friend clicked his tongue. “Good morning indeed. Were you trying to sneak away? How foolish, Kamiya. My wife’s hearing is not to be underestimated. Especially since we want to give you this.” He pushed a cloth bag into Koshijiro’s hand, the hefty weight studded with the metal ridges of the coins within.

“I can’t possibly accept. Please, keep this for your children.”

“They have plenty already. You, on the other hand, don’t have a naval secretary father, so take it.”

Akie added. “It’s a long road to Tokyo, especially when traveling alone. If you can find safety on a boat, a train, or even a cart, we’d be at ease knowing you have the means.” She then kept her voice low. “And I wanted to personally thank you. I know what you and your friends did for my husband, all those years ago, and it’s because of you that I have him. That I have my children and this life. I hope this is a fraction of what I owe you.”

His resistance crumbled. “…I promise not to squander it. In return, I hope you have a safe delivery.” He stepped out, to slip on his shoes.

Hayashi held his wife by the waist, to shield her from the morning chill, and raised his hand in farewell. “If you ever need anything else, let me know.”

“I will, and thank you. It was good to see you.” They bowed to one another, and he did not look back. His path was clear.

The days unfolded, one after another. At last, the surroundings became familiar, and every step took him towards the dojo, his school, and Kaoru.

***

In the first week of July, the Kyoto police informed them that Shishio and his followers had revealed themselves. Koshijiro was loath to miss an incoming message, and he remained at the station with the night shift, catching himself from nodding off until his sore neck forced him to trudge back to the empty house. The contingency plan was never far from his mind, even manifesting in his dreams. He was awake for good when the news came that Shishio’s ship was burning and falling to pieces off the shoreline. And then, there was another telegram within the hour.

“This one was specifically meant for you, Officer Kamiya.” The chief wryly said. “From your daughter.”

It was short but conveyed so much. WE WON. ALL SAFE.

If he was the type to dance, he could have danced all the way home. But he wasn’t, and ultimately, that meant he noticed that the lights were still on in Dr. Gensai’s clinic. When he knocked, Takani opened up, her eyes tired but offering a little smile when she recognized him. “Kamiya-san?”

“Yes, I have good news. The battle was won in Kyoto.” He showed her the telegram with pride.

“Really?” She exhaled in relief. “I’m so thankful. But it must have been difficult. I would like to see if they need care…”

“Then, let’s go. We’ll leave with the first train in the morning.”

“Just like that?” Takani laughed. “Well, I won’t argue. I’ll tell Dr. Gensai and get my supplies. See you in a few hours.”

He could hardly wait.

#rurouni kenshin #at arm's length #kamiya koshijiro #can you believe my version of koshijiro has returned before the hokkaido arc's

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nadziejastar · 6 years ago

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If both Lea and Isa went through mind control programming how did Axel turn out so well adjusted?

Axel Is A Fucked Up Guy

Ansem the Wise: Xehanort. Foolish apprentice of a foolish man. You have surpassed nothing—only proved how little we both know. We may profess to know the heart, but its essence is beyond our reach.

If you’re asking how a person could be subjected to mind control and still be a good person, and not a total psychopath…well…that’s kind of the mystery of the human condition, no? Polish psychologist Kazimierz Dąbrowski was caught in World War II and endured harsh incarceration in German prison system and later, he and his wife were imprisoned again in Stalin-controlled Poland. He said he could find no theory of psychology that could adequately explain both the lowest and most depraved behavior he saw, as well as the most heroic and highest acts he had witnessed in the war. He dedicated his life to the study of personality development.

Axel: We are just Nobodies who have no one to be, yet we still “are.” But now you can be nothing instead of just being a Nobody. You’re off the hook.

Vexen: No… Please don’t! I don’t want to—

Axel: Goodbye.

But I would actually argue that Axel was NOT well-adjusted, even though a lot of people might have interpreted him to be that way. Not at all. To me, KH3 is the only game that tried to make him seem well-adjusted and “normal”. A cool ice cream bro who breaks the fourth wall. Which I hated. And even then, there’s still plenty of signs that he’s not really recovered from his past.

It seems like a lot of people took Roxas and Xion’s understanding of Axel—a happy-go-lucky big brother—at face value. But it was clear that they didn’t know him at all. He had a very tragic life. He used to be a normal, happy kid and became a lonely, cynical, bitter assassin. He absolutely despised the organization. You could tell that he took great pleasure when he eliminated Vexen. It had nothing to do with some phantom girl he wasn’t sure existed. He said he had “no one to be”.It was very personal.

Sora: None of that matters! Just put Riku back!

Vexen: Just put him back? The Riku you speak of…has but one fate, to sink into the darkness—and you will share that fate, Sora! If you continue to seek the girl, Naminé, the shackles will tighten, you’ll lose your heart…and end up becoming Marluxia’s pawn!

Personally, I think Axel especially enjoyed killing Vexen when Sora began pleading with him to change Riku back. That would hit really close to home, and must have been a HUGE trigger for him. Whether he was planning to already or not, that was when Vexen needed to die. I also think it’s why he took such a liking to Sora.

It was Sora’s devotion to Riku that stood out the most to Axel in Castle Oblivion. Even more than his connection to Roxas.Right after Sora and Riku had a fight, Axel has a scene with Naminé.

Axel: Heh heh… I know exactly how you feel. Don’t get your hopes up. Nobodies can’t be somebodies. But think, Naminé. I’m sure there’s SOMETHING you could do…

This is Axel’s quote from the original Chain of Memories.

Axel: Does it hurt, Naminé? Watching your two childhood friends fight all because of you? You have my sympathies. From the heart. But don’t waste your time. We Nobodies can never hope to be somebodies.

And this is his quote from Re:Chain of Memories. He’s a LOT colder to her. And I don’t think it was because he had no heart. I think he was so cold to her because he had begun to develop a heart. Naminé’s the wedge that’s driving two close childhood friends apart. It hit WAY too close to home for Axel. And he truly hated her for it. He was dead serious when he said he had absolutely NO sympathy for her.

Riku: Hmph. Too bad, Sora. You can fight me all you want, but I still won’t remember a thing.

Sora: C'mon, Riku… Let’s quit fighting—let’s go help Naminé.

Riku: Together—right. So like you… …Sora—you’re always trying to worm your way into my heart!

Sora: Hold on! When did I ever do that?

Riku: Hmph, you forgot that, too? You never cared. It never mattered to you!

Sora: You won’t push me away.

He knew how the Riku Replica felt, thinking his friend didn’t care about him. And he knows only too well how Sora felt, trying to “worm his way” into his friend’s heart, only to be coldly rejected. And everything about it disgusted him. Sora is a lot like Lea. It made him remember what it was like to have such a strong bond, and how traumatized he was when he lost it. But Sora refused to take no for an answer. Just like him. But of course, that wasn’t really Riku anyways. Axel knew that. Sora’s friendship will be okay. But Axel’s won’t.

Axel: Is that your shield? Won’t do you any good, I’m afraid.

Axel wanted to save Sora. But he couldn’t have cared less if he killed Naminé. He wouldn’t have batted an eyelash. If anything, he would have been more than happy to do it. He knew she was an innocent young girl who was just an unwilling pawn of the Organization. He didn’t care. It’s so messed up if you think about it. He’d murder a terrified little girl—and he’d do it with a smile on his face. That’s how much he hated anyone who would cause a rift between childhood friends. That’s how devastated he was after the loss of Isa. He has extreme, deep-seated hatred inside of him.

Axel didn’t waste a second grabbing his chakrams. But his body was reluctant somehow.

I don’t want to disappear… But still, it wouldn’t be so bad if I did. Not here.

Axel let out a deep breath and leaped into the air as flames erupted around them.

“…Pathetic!” The Claymore moved to block Axel’s strike, while Saïx himself didn’t even twitch.

This is a pretty overwhelming disadvantage, Axel thought. Well, I knew that before we started fighting. I can’t win against Saïx with my own strength.

Still, he refused to hesitate. He had to force this path open. He wanted…to find hope—the hope that Sora and Riku had.

Saïx gave him a cruel grin. “You will lose everything!” And then the Claymore pierced Axel’s chest.

In my opinion, Axel changed because of Sora and Riku. When he came back from Castle Oblivion, his relationship with Saïx became very strained. Those two reminded him of what he used to have, and it’s unbearable to him that he no longer has it. At the end of KH2, while fighting Saïx, he said that he wanted the hope that Sora and Riku had. He wished that Saïx was just a fake replica the whole time, and that none of the awful things he said were true. The real version had actually gone away to protect him, but he’d show up later, and they could go back to being friends. Hmmm.

Sora: What are you— What ARE you people?!

Axel: Hm… Don’t know. I wonder about that myself.

When Axel saw the way Sora reacted when he killed Vexen, it made him feel ashamed. He realized that “normal” people are horrified by his actions, even when he is acting on their behalf. Sora was furious with Vexen, but even he was appalled by what Axel did.

Sora: After I finish you, he’s next!

Axel: Hmph. Now, Sora. We’ve got more in common than you might think. I’d really rather not fight you… But I can’t dishonor the Organization, now, can I?

Axel: You’re better than I thought you’d be. It was worth saving you after all.

Axel identifies with Sora, but Sora sees him as a monster. Maybe he was relatively well-adjusted compared to some of his fellow Organization members, at least in the morality department. But his “happy-go-lucky big brother” persona was mostly just a facade to cover up a very dysfunctional and wounded person. That was the mask he was comfortable showing outwardly. But it was not his true self.

Day 74: Xion’s Face

Honestly, I never got why Roxas was so crazy about Xion. I know they both joined up around the same time, and they’re both rookies, but how do you get so close to somebody who hides their face all the time? Well, I saw it today. All of a sudden, No. XIV up and takes off…her hood. Xion is a girl, and she looks just like Naminé.

It’s why he acted so strangely when he saw Xion’s face for the first time. He’s looking into the face of the little girl he was willing to murder, who is now asking to be his friend. It freaked him the fuck out. And it made him feel like total shit.

Roxas: When I saw her lying there… I couldn’t stop thinking that she’ll never wake up.

Axel: She will.

Roxas: Saïx called her “broken.”

Axel: Hmm… Well, if it cheers you up, I’m probably a lot more broken than her.

Underneath the mask, was a really fucked up guy who had a LOT of issues. And he KNEW it.

Axel stretched his neck and munched on his ice cream. “You know, I don’t mind disappearing.”

Naminé’s breath caught.

Riku stared at him.

“Roxas is gone. When we bring Kairi here, Naminé will be gone, too. So, same for me,” he said, as if he were discussing the weather, and then punctuated his comment with another bite of sea-salt ice cream.

“We don’t disappear… We’re only reborn,” Naminé murmured, perhaps to herself.

“I’m not like you and Roxas,” Axel said flatly. His hand holding the ice pop stick paused in midair.

“But—but you…” She looked down, clenching her fists.

“It’s because I don’t have a heart,” Axel went on. “I don’t want to disappear, but I’m not upset or sad about it.”

Why was he so convinced that he’s not like Roxas and Naminé? Because he’s not innocent anymore. He’s not going to get a next life because he doesn’t think he deserves one. In his mind, he’s not a good person. He’s done bad things. And he’s poisoned by hatred. I think that’s exactly why he clung to Roxas and Xion so much in the first place, aside from sheer loneliness.

They made him remember who he was before he became so fucked up. But he’d never, EVER tell them some of the things he’s done, or what he’s truly capable of. They’d be horrified and he knows it. He’s always eating ice cream during stressful moments in the novel. Even when he’s literally dying. The shittier he feels, the more he eats. The ice cream is comforting to him because it’s something he used to do in the past with Isa. It reminds him of better days. It’s almost like an addiction. Sea-salt ice cream is viewed as this cute, happy thing. But the reason it is so significant to Axel is because he’s in unbearable pain.

Kairi: So, you gonna try yours on?

Lea: Uh…I dunno. Maybe later.

Kairi: But you always wear the same thing.

Lea: If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. This is how you pick me out of a crowd. I make myself easy to remember.

Even in KH3, he won’t take off his old clothes and always stares off into the distance. In my opinion, this has nothing to do with Roxas or Xion. It’s because he’s got baggage. Serious unresolved baggage, connected to his time in the Organization XIII cult. I cannot describe how much I despise the way KH3 downplayed this, and made it seem like his only problem in life was not having Roxas around to hang out with. It felt SO out-of-character to me. Of course he’d want to see Roxas again (who is actually Ventus, IMO). But his entire life doesn’t and shouldn’t revolve around that. He had a life before Roxas and that deserved attention. Isa was the root cause of Lea’s pain.

Axel’s title in the series translates into English as “Flurry of Dancing Flames,” but this doesn’t quite capture the meaning of the original Japanese. The English title implies that Axel himself is fire, but the literal parsing of the Japanese phrase is more like “dancing fire’s wind.”

I think that Axel’s title is about Isa. “Tandava” or dance of destruction, is a divine dance performed by the Hindu god Shiva, where he is infamously depicted surrounded by a circle of flames. It symbolizes the cycles of creation and destruction. Sati grew up devoted to Shiva and spurned the advances of rich kings to the point where she left for a forest to escape the constant proposals. Eventually Shiva consented to make her his bride, and, elated, Sati went to share the news with her father.

Axel: Nothing lasts forever, man. Least of all for a bunch of Nobodies. But you know, we’ll still have each other…even if things change and we can’t do this anymore.

Roxas: Yeah?

Axel: As long as we remember each other, we’ll never be apart. Got it memorized?

Roxas: Ha ha, wow, Axel. That sounded ridiculous.

Axel: What? I thought it was pretty deep.

However, upon her father’s expression of his disapproval of her marriage, she immolated herself, praying to one day be reborn as a daughter to a father she could respect. Angered and grief-stricken after learning of Sati’s death, Shiva performed a terrible Tandava. The more Shiva danced, the more destruction arose. Out of grief and sorrow, Shiva carried Sati’s body and roamed around the universe with it, reminiscing of their moments as a couple. It sounds a lot like Axel to me. His relationship with Saïx is akin to carrying a corpse around. Isa’s even got the giant scar on his forehead which literally means “death”.

Eventually, Sati was reborn as Parvati. This time, she was born the daughter of a father whom she could respect; a father who appreciated Shiva ardently. Naturally, she grew up to be a beautiful woman and over time, she grew to love Shiva with her whole heart. Eventually, they married. The two are literally inseparable, as they have a form where they are fused together as one. Their fused form is another symbol of duality. It’s basically the Hindu version of the Red King and White Queen of alchemy.

Another reason I think Axel’s title was about Isa? Well, because that’s what his Mystery Gear weapon was about, too. The Jade Emperor wanted to test the virtue of the hare and his friends. They all gave him food. But the hare had no food except the grass growing in the forest. So he told the Jade Emperor to build a fire, and when the fire was burning, he said “I have nothing to give you to eat but myself!” Then, the hare threw himself into the fire.

Of course, the Jade Emperor caused the fire to go instantly cold so that the hare was not burned, and then revealed his true form. And then he painted the hare’s likeness on the face of the moon for all to see, so that his virtue would be remembered throughout the ages. The rabbit was unharmed and lived happily ever after. In some versions, he actually is taken to the moon and becomes immortal. But the rabbit hasn’t gotten to the moon yet. He doesn’t know that the Isa he remembers is still alive.

Xemnas: There hangs the heart of all hearts–Kingdom Hearts–shining down on us at last. See the countless hearts that have gathered? Hearts full of rage…hate…sadness…and bliss. There, in the sky, hangs the promise of a new world.

In addition to his own abuse, Axel is fucked up because of Isa. He’s angry at what they did to him, and he’s devastated over losing him. He was an emotional wreck, filled with rage, hate, and sadness. His entire arc was building up suspense for the “bliss” part…and then they did a bait-and-switch.

#kingdom hearts #kh axel #kh lea #kh meta #kh isa #kh isalea #khleaisa #kh akusai #anti-kh3

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