#Clipping Path Finder
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I stumbled upon some long forgotten disk images stored on my computer, the actual disk images themselves date back from around 2008 when I was only a teenager. One of the disk images contains an installation of Macintosh System Software 7 which first debuted in 1991, but the version I have installed is 7.6.1, released in 1997. Here are just a few applications I have installed. Screenshots taken on Basilisk II, a Classic Mac emulator available on Windows, Mac, and Linux.
Hopefully these photos are in order.
First screenshot at the top left is just a blank desktop with no running applications, except a window that says "About this Macintosh" which shows you how much memory individual applications are currently using. It even tells you how much memory the operating system is using, which is just a little over 2.5 MB. I decided to allocate 8 MB of RAM for the emulator but you can allocate more if needed.
Second screenshot located in the top center is from an application called Scrapbook, showcasing a graphic of the world's continents. A simple application to keep some of your favorite images or sound clips in. However, there was no true organization in Scrapbook so in order to find media in this program, you had to click the back and next buttons to view and find content, you couldn't categorize your media. Not all media and sound formats were supported, for instance dragging a JPEG wouldn't do anything. In the background is a Finder window showing various folder and application icons.
Third screenshot at the top right is Microsoft Word 5.0. No bloat, no nagging about subscribing to Microsoft 365, just productivity. This version dates back to 1991, making this version of Word older than I am!
Center-most screenshot is from one of the earliest web browsers available in the early 90s called NCSA Mosaic, showing a sample website that came bundled with the browser. Although it was not the first browser in existence at the time, Mosaic was instrumental in popularizing the internet to the masses. This version dates back to 1994, I was only two years old at the time and was unaware of the impact the internet would have in the world over the years. The browser eventually lost marketshare to Netscape, and Mosaic was discontinued in 1997.
Bottom photo is a screenshot from a simple dirt bike game called... Dirt Bike. Looks like this was developed by an independent developer. What else is there to say about it? You ride a dirt bike around and you can even create custom paths if you want to make the game even more exciting.
If this post gets decent traction, I'll get around to posting more screencaps of what I have in this disk image, even some of the schoolwork I did in it!
#macintosh#System 7#1990s#1990s aesthetic#90s aesthetic#90s nostalgia#old computers#technology#computing#vintage#vintage electronics#retro aesthetic#retro computing#vintage computing#apple#apple computers#abandonware#vaporwave#software#old software#vintage mac#BasiliskII#classic mac#microsoft word#old web#old internet#nostalgiacore#old games#old programs
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Introduction to illustration
In this induction I learnt the basics of illustration and what it was intended to be used for (vector graphics).
In this image I was just practicing using the different shapes and the pen tool. I found the pen quite tricky to control especially when practicing on "The Bezier game". This is definitely something I am going need to practice a lot to get used to it.
We then learnt how to insert text and how to attach text to a path so that it follows the shape of the path.
We then moved on to clipping mask. We did this with text and shapes.
We then practiced using the path finder tool, the shape builder tool and the knife tool.
We then created a flower by using the rotate tool for the petals and then turned it into a pattern. This is my favourite thing I created in this session.
I really enjoyed illustrator, I like how you can have multiple art boards at once. I struggled with the pen, will definitely take me a bit of time to get used to.
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Canadian Passport Photo Size vs Australian Countries: What’s Different?
When applying for a passport, it's crucial to adhere to the specific photo requirements set by the issuing country. Canada and Australia have distinct guidelines for passport photos, and understanding these differences is essential to ensure your application is accepted without delays. Here’s a detailed comparison of Canadian passport photo size requirements and those for various Australian countries, including Australia itself and nearby nations like New Zealand.
Canadian Passport Photo Size and Requirements
Canada has stringent requirements for passport photos to ensure consistency and security. Here’s a breakdown of the essential guidelines for Canadian passport photos:
Photo Dimensions: 50 mm wide x 70 mm high (2 inches wide x 2 3/4 inches high).
Head Size: The head, measured from chin to crown, must be between 31 mm (1 1/4 inches) and 36 mm (1 7/16 inches).
Eye Position: The eyes should be positioned between 28 mm and 36 mm from the bottom of the photo.
Background: The background must be plain white or light-colored with no shadows.
Photo Quality: The photo should be clear, sharp, and in focus. It must be printed on high-quality photo paper with a matte or glossy finish.
Facial Expression: A neutral expression is required with the mouth closed and eyes open. No smiling or frowning.
Clothing and Accessories: No hats or head coverings unless worn daily for religious reasons. Glasses are allowed if the eyes are clearly visible and there is no glare or shadows.
For more detailed information on Canadian passport photo requirements, you can visit Clipping Path Finder’s page on Canadian Passport Photo Size.
Australian Passport Photo Size and Requirements
Australia, like Canada, has specific guidelines for passport photos, which differ slightly from Canadian requirements. Here's what you need to know about Australian passport photos:
Photo Dimensions: 35 mm to 40 mm wide x 45 mm to 50 mm high.
Head Size: The head size, from chin to crown, should be between 32 mm and 36 mm.
Eye Position: The eyes should be positioned between 20 mm and 30 mm from the bottom of the photo.
Background: A plain white or light grey background is required with no shadows.
Photo Quality: The photo must be clear, sharp, and in focus with a neutral color balance. It should be printed on high-quality paper with no creases or marks.
Facial Expression: A neutral expression with the mouth closed and eyes open is mandatory. The face should be directly facing the camera.
Clothing and Accessories: No head coverings unless worn daily for religious reasons. Glasses are allowed if there is no reflection and the eyes are fully visible.
Comparing Canadian and Australian Passport Photo Requirements
While both Canada and Australia have strict guidelines for passport photos, several key differences can affect how you prepare your photos:
Size and Dimensions:
Canada: 50 mm x 70 mm, which is notably taller than the Australian photo.
Australia: A more standard size of 35-40 mm wide x 45-50 mm high, making it shorter and potentially wider.
Head Size and Position:
Canada: The head size has a specific range, and the eyes must be positioned within certain distances from the bottom of the photo.
Australia: The head size is slightly more flexible, and the eye position range starts lower than Canada’s requirement.
Background:
Canada: Requires a plain white or light-colored background.
Australia: Allows for a plain white or light grey background, offering a slight variation in background color.
Facial Expression:
Both countries require a neutral expression with no smiling, but Canada specifies a mouth closed, while Australia emphasizes a straightforward face directly facing the camera.
Clothing and Accessories:
Both Canada and Australia have similar rules regarding the removal of headwear unless for religious reasons and allow glasses with no reflections.
Conclusion
Understanding the differences in passport photo requirements between Canada and Australia is essential for ensuring a smooth passport application process. While both countries emphasize clarity, quality, and specific dimensions, the variations in size, head positioning, and background can lead to rejections if not followed correctly.
When preparing for your passport application, always double-check the current guidelines for your country and use resources like Clipping Path Finder’s guide on Canadian Passport Photo Size for accurate and compliant photos.
By following the appropriate specifications, you can avoid delays and ensure your passport application is processed efficiently, whether you’re applying in Canada or any Australian country.
#PassportPhotos#PhotoRequirements#CanadianVisa#CanadianPassport#AustralianPassport#PhotoQuality#PassportPhotoTips#ClippingPathFinder#CanadaVsAustralia
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What Is Post-Production In Photography? Everyone Should Know!
Hello and welcome to the wonderful world of image post-production. This is an amazing image editing service that ensures that your photos look truly stunning. Whether you are an individual or a business, this is a service everyone needs to work with images. Overall, image post-production is a complete package of image editing services that ensures images look their best. Clipping Path Finder will guide you through the world of post-production in photography. We will discuss why it’s important, who needs it, types of post-production, and so much more. So, if you are interested, keep on reading and find out more about this image editing service from us.
Importance Of Post-Production In Photography
Who Needs Photography Post-Production?
Here are certain people who need photography post-production services:
Photographers of all levels, from amateurs to professionals, benefit from post-production to enhance their images.
Businesses and organizations rely on photography post-production to create visually appealing marketing materials, advertisements, and branding content.
E-commerce platforms and online retailers utilize post-production to showcase products in the best light and attract customers.
Media agencies, including magazines, newspapers, and online publications, require post-production to produce high-quality images for articles and editorial content.
Individuals seeking to enhance personal photos for social media, portfolios, or personal projects also find value in photography post-production.
When To Use Image Post-Production Services?
Aside from certain people, there are certain times when you need image post-production services. Here are some examples:
Professional Photography: Image post-production services refine photographs, ensuring professionalism and quality. They’re vital for enhancing captured moments or products, making them look polished and appealing.
E-commerce: These services optimize product images, which is crucial for online stores, attracting buyers with high-quality visuals that highlight product features effectively.
Marketing Campaigns: Enhance marketing materials for print or digital platforms, ensuring attention-grabbing visuals that convey messages effectively, improving campaign effectiveness.
Real Estate: Optimize property photos with adjustments in lighting, colors, and perspective, enhancing online listings’ appeal to potential buyers, which is crucial for real estate marketing.
Fashion Industry: Essential for fashion photography, these services retouch photos, adjust colors, and remove imperfections, ensuring images meet industry standards and captivate audiences.
Portrait Photography: Enhance facial features, adjust lighting, and achieve desired styles, vital for professional or personal portraits, making them look their best.
Event Coverage: Improve event photos by correcting colors, removing distractions, and capturing moments beautifully, ensuring cherished memories are preserved in captivating visuals.
Types Of Post-Production In Photography.
There are many types of post-production in photography, such as color correction, retouching, cropping and composition adjustment, exposure adjustment, sharpening, white balance adjustment, shadow creation, etc. I will try to explain the most important ones below so you can better understand!
Color Correction: This involves adjusting the colors in an image to achieve a desired look or to correct any discrepancies in color balance.
Retouching: Retouching involves refining the appearance of subjects in the image, such as removing blemishes, wrinkles, or other imperfections to enhance their overall look.
Cropping and Composition Adjustment: This involves cropping the image to improve its composition or framing and adjusting the placement of elements within the frame for better visual balance.
Exposure Adjustment: Post-production allows for fine-tuning exposure settings to ensure the image is neither too bright nor too dark, thus enhancing overall clarity and detail.
Sharpening: Sharpening is a post-production technique used to enhance the clarity and crispness of details in an image, making them more pronounced and defined.
How To Choose The Right Photo Post-Production Service Provider?
Choosing the right post-production service provider is crucial for achieving your desired results. Here are some key factors to consider:
Portfolio and Quality of Work: Review the provider’s portfolio to gauge the quality of their work. Look for consistency, attention to detail, and whether their style aligns with your preferences.
Experience and Expertise: Consider the provider’s experience and expertise in the specific post-production services you require. An experienced provider is more likely to deliver high-quality results efficiently.
Turnaround Time: Evaluate the provider’s turnaround time to ensure they can meet your project deadlines without compromising on quality. Prompt delivery is essential, especially for time-sensitive projects.
Communication and Collaboration: Choose a provider who communicates effectively and is open to collaboration. Clear communication ensures that your requirements are understood and implemented correctly.
Customer Reviews and Testimonials: Read reviews and testimonials from past clients to gain insights into their experiences with the provider. Positive feedback and testimonials indicate reliability and customer satisfaction.
Security and Confidentiality: Ensure the provider has robust security measures to protect your sensitive data and intellectual property. Confidentiality agreements may also be necessary to safeguard your assets.
Flexibility and Scalability: Choose a provider who offers flexibility and scalability to accommodate your evolving needs. They should be able to handle both small-scale and larger, more complex projects.
Technical Capabilities and Software: Assess the provider’s technical capabilities and the software they use for post-production. Ensure they can access the latest tools and technologies to deliver optimal results.
Customer Support and Satisfaction Guarantee: Look for a provider who offers reliable customer support and stands behind their work with a satisfaction guarantee. This demonstrates their commitment to client satisfaction and ensures peace of mind.
Best Photo Post-Production Service Provider For You!
In conclusion, regarding post-production services, Clipping Path Finder is the premier choice for individuals and businesses. Our dedication to excellence, attention to detail, and commitment to client satisfaction set us apart in the industry. With a skilled team of professionals, state-of-the-art tools, and comprehensive services, we have everything you need to enhance your images and elevate your visual content. From clipping paths to retouching and beyond, we ensure that your images are polished to perfection, ready to captivate your audience and make a lasting impression. Choose Clipping Path Finder for unparalleled quality, reliability, and results that exceed expectations.
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Car Photo Editing Service
Car photo editing service is the way of making your car photos more professional and attractive. If you are running a car business, then you need to promote your car photos tremendously. Because excellent quality photos represent your business and work significantly to promote your brand. New releases Car Photo Editor Photo Editors Zone Photography Everyone. For this reason, it is important to edit your photos nicely so that it can grab the attention of the viewers.
Clipping Path Finder offers professional Car Photo Editing Service to enhance your business. We know the importance of high-quality photos for the enhancement of a business. This is the best and beautiful Car photo Editor App that insert your beloved photos into a different way. photoshop is the best Editing Tools and that will be very helpful for those who working with photoshop. If you are able to produce great-quality photos, then you can get lots of potential customers. This is the best stylish car looks photos and text with frames in Car Photo Editor app. That’ why Clipping Path Finder is dedicated to providing you professional editing services to grow your business.
Advantages of Car Photo Editing
There are lots of benefits in this car retouching service. When you post ordinary car photos in social media or on the web, it fails to attract customer attention. But when you take retouching service for cars, it makes your car images more attractive. It will help to boost your car dealing business naturally. If you post the edited photos on social media, it will grab the extraordinary attention of the users. In this way, these car images will press the trigger of your accomplishment in the automobile industry. Simultaneously, you will get numerous different advantages.
We have checked some best features of this car image editing service. Photo editing is our specialty because we have been doing it for a very long time. You can count on us and our client rated us as the best car photo editor. Some of the key advantages are clarified here.
Business Growth
The main advantage is that car photo editing will assist highly to develop your business. When the car images will be stunning, potential customers will swarm at your online and offline shops. As a result, you will observe the development of your business. However, you needn’t bother with extra advertisements.
Brand Recognition
Stunning car photos will promote your brand. When there would be quantities of such types of beautiful and smooth photographs, you will become confiding among the people. When you want to promote your car business in online then you need our car photo editor. Consequently, you will encounter that your business will turn into a persuasive brand. This is really the most useful and outstanding result of the photo editing services.
Huge Sales
If you are able to promote your cars using high-quality photos, then you can generate more sales. Because people will be attracted by seeing your car and there will grow more chances to purchase it. When your photo looks awesome by car photo editor then your business will increase. This is how you can increase your sales through great quality photos. Also, you can dominate the automobile industry.
Our Car Photo Editing Services includes:
Car Background Replacement
It is necessary to remove the car background for a proper presentation. Sometimes, you may not like the existing background, you want to make transparent background or want to highlight your car with a more professional background. Also, you can keep your images with no background. That’s why our expert designers are capable enough to change the background of your image. Our expert car photo editor removes the background of the photo of the car. They have high-level skills and professional experiences to implement the work.
Color Changing / Color Correction Service
Sometimes your car may require a color correction service or color change to promote your car images. Furthermore, During the car photography, this may not be possible to get all colors. Besides, when customers inquire about a specific color of the car, then you might not be able to provide that on time. However, you can do it easily utilizing our color-changing services. Our professional car photo editors will change the color of your vehicles and make it real. This effects are extremely natural looking — so your car pictures won't come out cheesy or fake-looking. As a result, you will have the same models in different colors. Hence it will greatly help you to selling your car.
Removing/ adding Objects
We offer object removing services from your car images. Unwanted objects spoil the beauty of a car photo. So it is easy to use and important to remove all the imperfection from your car images. On the other hand, we will add the necessary objects that will flourish the beauty of your car images. That’s why you should take photo editing services. Under this service, the car photo editor removes the unwanted objects from the car images. At Clipping Path Finder, we perform this task prefectly. As a consequence, you will find the car images more attractive.
Photo Shadow Creation
The realistic photos can draw the attention of the customers more likely than a normal photo. So how will you make your car photo lively? Definitely, shadows can play a significant role in making your photos realistic and delightful you will need a shadow for your vehicle. And the car photo editor does the same for you. So you will require a shadow for your vehicle. The shadows are in various ways. But don’t worry. Our photo editing specialists are skilled enough to deal with the issue impeccably.
Banner Ads
If you own a car company, you should require a banner to create ads for your vehicles. It is easy to use and most significant issue for all the vehicle association proprietors to make high quality and stunning banners in order to draw the attention of the customers. So it is highly important to promote your brand through a good-looking banner. Our high-qualified designers will create outstanding car banner ads that will engage lots of people and convert them into potential customers.
Lighting Improvement
Lighting Improvement is very important to highlight your photos nicely. There are some car photos that look very dull due to the poor lighting system. In spite of the fact that professional photographers try to include legitimate lighting, there may be some lacking. But no problem, we can help you to improve your car photos lighting with our excellent services. The work might take time, but seriously you will get the best result.
Photo Retouching
When a vehicle photograph gets modified, it becomes very fresh and vibrant. Indeed, by taking the Car Photo Retouching Service you can make your vehicle photos amazing and remarkable. During this process, your vehicle photographs will get a complete retouch from our experts. They will adjust the color tone, including some beautiful impacts. When you use the Car photo frames makes pictures looks fantastic. In this way, we ensure the best results and provide excellent retouching services.
Spot Removal
Sometimes there may be some unwanted spots and marks on your car photos, which ruin the pleasantness of the photo. Utilizing the photograph editing method, these elements can be removed easily. Our talented car photo editor can remove the marks with incredible consideration. Thus, the photographs get an expert look. What's more, you can hold the attention of your potential clients without any problem.
Glare Removal
It is another significant photo editing technique for car photo service. In this process, the car photo editor eliminate the glares from the vehicle photographs. During the photography of vehicles, glares will appear. It is common. Furthermore, you can’t prevent it right away. Otherwise, you have to perform the photoshoot in low light. Glares make the photos blur or obscure by car photo editor. So you will not get the perfect photograph. Get started to be an luxurious man with creative Car editor because it is the best Editing Tools.
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Clipping Path Finder
Clipping Path Finder perfectly and effectively delivers Picture Cutout Services for clients. We offer photo cutout services to draw attention to your product’s best qualities and boost its marketability. We continue to offer our services till you are happy.
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Clipping Path Finder
Clipping Path Finder perfectly and effectively delivers Picture Cutout Services for clients. We offer photo cutout services to draw attention to your product’s best qualities and boost its marketability. We continue to offer our services till you are happy.
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Obi-Wan, his hair longer than it had been, his beard more unkempt since the fall of the Republic, is still a force to be reckoned with. The Jedi might have, according to Imperial propaganda, fallen and met their doom, but there were survivors. Some are gathered here, in this secret base, established by Bail Organa in the early months after the rise of the Empire. This is where Obi-Wan Kenobi finds himself these past weeks, leading the charge, offering wisdom and knowledge to the rag tag group of survivors, freedom fighters, rebels, and defectors. Currently, he is staring down a smuggler who has agreed to move aide around the galaxy to their strongholds around the galaxy. He looks cool, calm and collected, but his tone leaves no room for argument.
"I understand this is a business transaction for you, Harvel. However, we can find another smuggler, another pilot, who does not want to extort the Path for all the people upon it have. You ask for more, knowing we do not have anything left to give. If you cannot find it in your heart to move the product because it is the right thing to do, you may take your rather significant finder's fee and be on your way." Obi-Wan's voice is clipped, commanding, but there is an undertone of exhaustion. He's been tired since Order 66. He doesn't think he'll ever not be tired. Harvel appears to reconsider his extortion attempt, and ambles off, muttering under his breath. Obi-Wan turns now to face whoever was waiting for his attention, gracing them with a gentle half smile. "My apologies. Do you need something?"
starter for @noturnurse
#left it vague for timeline could be pre-kenobi but a couple years after the purge#there is the like general framework for what will become the rebellion but its not expansive and well organized
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Professional Photo Cut-out Service - Cliping Path Finder
Website:https://clippingpathfinder.com/ Professional photo cut-out service for precise image editing. Expert results with quick turnaround time. Contact us for affordable rates and flawless cut-out
About Clipping Path Finder
The top expert picture cutout service supplier in the industry is Clipping Path Finder. We are a well-known provider of clipping path services, offering photo editing solutions to tens of thousands of customers worldwide. If you’re searching for a reliable picture editing solution for tasks like sophisticated clipping pathways, image masking, post-production, ghost mannequins, etc.
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For any image, you need a background removing service. Clipping Path Finders can remove backgrounds from any image. And we're the best in the business! When you outsource with us, you'll get a fast and precise service done remotely with the utmost care. Give Clipping Path Finders a try today!
#ecommerce #whitebackground #backgroundremoval #backgroundremove #backgroundremove #clippingpath #fiver #clippingpath
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Ghost Mannequin Service Provider
Product photography is essential in the realm of e-commerce for drawing in potential customers. High-quality and aesthetically pleasing product photos can significantly impact an online business’s ability to succeed. Businesses can accomplish this goal with the aid of image-altering services like ghost mannequin services.
The use of ghost mannequins has become a common strategy in the e-commerce sector. Businesses can take advantage of the improved client experience, higher conversion rates, and improved brand recognition that this service provides. Clipping Path Finder is the best professional Ghost Mannequin Service provider for your business. We provide quality product images and mannequin edits as you require and make sure your business stays ahead of the game.
Clipping Path Finder
793 Deer Park Ave
North Babylon, NY
11703
USA
+19177179533
Business Hour: Monday-Friday: 24 hours
#Ghost Mannequin Service Provider#Ghost Mannequin Service#Mannequin Service Provider#Mannequin Service#Clipping Path Finder#Clipping Path Service Provider
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A Vampire’s Sacrifice Ch 1 (Finder Fic)
Summary: Chosen as a sacrifice, Akihito was sent to the vampire overlooking their village once he came of age. Yet the vampire never asked for an offering in the few centuries he had been there. Why was he chosen? And why does the vampire seem to have no intention to drink his blood? And it seems that Asami was not the only supernatural being living in the forest...
Note: This is an AU fic
Pairing: (Vampire) Asami x Akihito
A/N: I would like to say a special thank you to my lovely beta @iwillnamethisblogsoonerorlater, for all your help, patience and support! I’m really grateful to you ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡
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Chapter 1: The Vampire’s Lair
It was clear to Akihito that the person before him wasn’t human.
A pair of golden eyes reflected back at him from the shadows. Above the canopy of the forest trees, the moon rose from its slumber, rising up from behind the dark blanket of stormy clouds.
Slowly, the bright light of the wintry moon pushed the curtain of shadows away, revealing a man with ivory skin and hair as black as a raven’s feathers. His commanding stature was wrapped in a cloak that seemed as if it was darkness itself.
The man smiled. A pair of sharp canines glistened coldly under the pale light.
Slowly, he approached Akihito.
In the distance, deep within the dark forest, a wolf howled to the full moon.
**********
Across the forest where the village was situated, there was an antediluvian castle located on a cliff overlooking the forest. Inside the cold stone walls, there lived an old vampire.
In exchange for the rest of the villagers’ lives and the protection from other creatures and vampires, the old vampire would select a sacrifice, usually a child. The sacrificial mark would appear somewhere on their body. Once the child reached the age of eighteen, they would be sent to the castle and never be seen again.
Centuries went by and the old vampire nearly wiped out the village with his demand of a sacrifice every year. Nearing to their wits’ end, the village elders met in collusion to discuss fleeing from the anathema when a miracle happened.
A new vampire came and took over the territory. As to how it happened, no one really knew. During the few centuries he had been there, he never requested a single sacrifice and peace finally settled over the village.
Time flowed on like a river, carrying the dreadful memories of the old vampire with them. Overtime, the villagers gradually forgot that vampires even existed.
Until the day the sacrificial mark appeared on Akihito.
**********
“Ow!”
Akihito’s eyes flew open in alarm as something hard slammed against his left side.
Brain foggy with sleep, it took him a minute to realize he was currently on the floor, his legs tangled in the blanket. It seemed that he had once again rolled off the edge of the narrow bed while asleep.
He sluggishly untangled himself as he yawned, and the remnants of the dreams dispelled into the morning air.
The sun was already up and the sound of a faint laughter floating up from below.
He rubbed his shoulder and walked over towards the window, and with each step a metallic chinking noise echoed behind him. As he neared the window, he was abruptly jerked to a stop. He glanced irritatingly at his feet, and saw that the chains around his ankle had twisted together. Akihito clicked his tongue in irritation. At least today would be the last day he would be bound to these chains. He yanked the knot free and took the remaining few strides to the thin slits that served as his window in the high tower. From there, he could just get a glimpse of the village below.
The small houses with smoke rising steadily out of the chimneys; the women bustling around with washings in their arms; the children laughing and running on the lush green grass; the cows grazing at the meadow, flickering their tails every so often; the men readying their weapons to set off to hunt.
It was such a quotidian scene, yet in Akihito’s memories, he had never experienced it.
The sound of locks being unbolted brought Akihito back from his thoughts. The thick wooden door that served as the only entrance out of the tower opened with a deep groan.
Several people came in, carrying a washtub, pitches of water, clothes, and plates full of food.
“Takaba-sama.” They all bowed reverently towards him.
He simply nodded apathetically.
After finishing washing and getting dressed, they laid his breakfast on the table and all departed. The screeching sound of the bar being secured across the door killed the tiny appetite Akihito had. He stared at the food glumly, wishing he could throw them at the village elders’ face. He sighed, and headed towards the long mirror in the corner of the small room. His fingers gently touched its cool surface. A young man with blond hair stared back at him, with apprehension coloring his brown-hazel eyes. The pure white robes he wore especially for today only complemented his porcelain skin. But it was not these that held his attention. His travelling eyes stopped at the small mark at the top of his chest.
The mark that sealed his fate.
It was shaped like a rose surrounded by a crown of thorns. The dark coloured symbol laid flat against his heart and when Akihito ran his finger over it, he couldn’t even feel any difference as if it had always been a part of him.
**********
The forest floor was abundant with pieces of rocks and twigs. Every time the rickety wheels of the wooden carriage went over an uneven surface, it would jolt and Akihito would land heavily against the wooden seat. His backside had long begun to ache. Alongside, his entourage consisted of no less than ten men, all riding on horses surrounding his carriage. From an outsider's view, the horse riders were part of a procession, but Akihito knew that they were there to prevent him from escaping. The old geezers that were the village elders wanted to make sure he doesn’t make one last escape before he was sent to his death.
The empty carriage he was in only emphasised his solitude. He didn’t bother bringing anything with him since he will be gone from this world soon. Plus, the few possessions he had in the tower consisted of a stack of books that were tattered beyond repair so he had decided to leave them behind to rest peacefully in the tower.
He tilted his head and glowered towards the heavens outside the window. An endless black sky spread out before his eyes. Not a sliver of moon or a speck of star were visible tonight. A gnarly hand of an ancient tree whipped across the window. The loud rap made him jump and he cursed under his breath. The only time he was allowed out turned out to be his last. Even though he had long been prepared for his fate, the trepidation in his heart could not be smothered.
He doesn’t know anything about the vampire, only the name the village elders whispered in the dark, Lord Asami Ryuichi of Sion, “Asami-sama”.
Why does it have to be him? If the sacrifices were randomly chosen, why him out of all the others? Was it some kind of fate? A sin to repent for from a past life? Or does he just have bad luck?
As he casted aspersions upon those that made his life miserable the carriage came to a screeching standstill. Akihito toppled forward, his face nearly slamming against the wooden bench in front of him. After he regained his balance, he scowled as he tore open the door to see what had stopped them.
A giant man had appeared in front of their cavalcade, carrying a lantern that effused an eerie green light. His blond hair was dyed a green tint by the light. Behind him was an extravagantly ornamented carriage pulled by six black horses, none of which made any noise.
A cold and deep voice rang out in the silent forest. “Takaba Akihito. I will escort you to the castle from here.”
Wordlessly, Akihito got off the cart. He could feel the twenty or so eyes on his back. Still, he would not give them the satisfaction of thinking he was scared. He kept his back straight as he marched forward, though he clenched his hands into fists to stop them trembling.
“Wait!”
A hand grabbed his wrist.
The young man who drove the carriage had run up to him as he was halfway to the black carriage. A name floated at the back of Akihito’s brain for this man, but the terror of heading off to the unknown had numbed his mind, so he simply stared blankly back at him. A wave of gasps of horror rippled from behind them, but the young man took no notice. His eyes showed panic and horror, and was that regret in there too? Akihito didn’t know.
“Akihito, I-“
The horse tied to the wooden carriage brayed loudly, drowning out the man’s words. The sudden cacophony made the man jump. He shook his head dazedly, as if coming back to his senses.
He let go of Akihito's wrist, “Sorry. I’ll see you again sometime, right?” He smiled shakily.
Akihito stared in wonder at the man. Did he hit his head somewhere? It was something that was likely never to come to pass but seeing the desperation on the other young man’s face, he simply nodded and disappeared into the black carriage without a word.
Inside, the soft velvet seats were a stark contrast to the hard seat of the carriage he was just on.
This carriage glided smoothly along the uneven paths with alacrity, never emitting a sound, not even the sound of the horse hooves clipping on the ground.
Even though the giant man had hung the lantern inside the carriage, the task of driving without any light did not deter him and he drove the carriage forward without any hesitation towards Akihito’s doom.
**********
“We are here.”
Akihito sat up with a start. Somehow he had managed to fall asleep. The blond giant was holding the door open for him, looking at him impassively, and Akihito hurriedly alighted the carriage. Outside, an enormous Stygian castle towered before him. An aura of darkness seemed to hang in the air. It clung to the castle walls and merged with the shadows of castle grounds. Akihito swallowed noisily, fear began to slowly coil upwards from the bottom of his stomach.
“I’ll take it from here, Suoh.” The sudden voice nearly made Akihito jump out of his skin and he whirled around to face the source of the sound, blood pounding in his ears so hard that he could feel his whole head throbbing. A tall man stood a few paces behind him, as if he had materialised out of the shadows. In the dimness, Akihito could only tell that he wore a pair of glasses.
The blond man nodded. He sat back on the perch of the carriage and without any prompt, the horses pulled the carriage away, merging into the night.
The bespectacled man turned towards Akihito, “If you would follow me please,” and marched forward towards the giant iron door, seeming oblivious to the other’s plight. Once he reached the door, it swung open noiselessly all on its own, like a giant mouth of a monster’s cave. Akihito could see the inside was lit with candles that flickered weakly, as if a slight breeze could extinguish it. Steering his nerves, Akihito entered. No sooner did he step inside the threshold the door swung tightly shut behind him with a thud, like the sound of an executioner’s blade to the executing block. Akihito gulped as his skin prickled with panic, but all of a sudden, as if a breath of life had been blown throughout the castle. The once weak flames began to burn brightly, like a thousand little suns, blazing fiercely against the stone walks.
The light revealed a castle much different from the picture Akihito had painted in his mind from the rumours. The castle was grand with a wide open staircase greeted them with open arms and colossus white columns chiseled with intricate designs that buttressed up to the ceiling in the majestic entrance. Throughout the flights of stairs and corridors the man led him through, paintings with gold frames and expensive looking foreign tapestries hung on the walls.
Finally, they reached a room where the man with glasses stopped at and opened the door. It led to the inside of a capacious room. Akihito stood gaping at the door.
“This will be your room from now on. The washroom is in that door over there. If you require any amenities, please do not hesitate to let me know.” He bowed and when Akihito turned towards him to thank him, he was already gone.
Left alone, he took a tentative step into the room, taking in the extravagant room. A giant four poster bed laid in the east of the room, plump pillows stuffed at the head, so different from his narrow hard bed in the tower. Akihito kicked off his shoes and his feet immediately sank into the thick fur rug that covered up the entire room. He walked up towards the bed and gently touched the soft duvet. It sank like soft clouds under his fingertips. In the middle, a soft set of nightwear and towel were folded neatly. Fatigue suddenly washed over him. At least it seemed like they intended for him to stay alive until tomorrow morning. Akihito took the towel and pyjamas and headed towards the washroom. As he entered, a soft scent of flowers drifted towards him. It was bigger than his entire room in the tower. In the middle of the marbled tiled floors, a bathtub filled with warm water awaited him with red petals floating on the surface.
**********
Feeling slightly rejuvenated after a long soak and wearing his soft new clothes, he began to inspect the room. That’s when he noticed with elation that one of the walls seemed to be covered with a thick curtain of dark scarlet colour with gold trims. Excitement surged through his veins. Maybe it wasn’t too late to escape. This ‘Lord Asami of Sion’ doesn’t seem to be in the castle tonight. If he was, the tall man surely would have brought him to the lord of the castle first? Yet before his fingers could brush against the curtains, all of a sudden he felt weightless. Then in the next second, his back thumped against the soft bed with someone leaning over him.
The man’s beauty was inhuman. It was as if a painting of a deity by a master painter had become alive and stepped out of the canvas into the mundane world. An Adonis walking among mortals, none who are worthy look upon him and live.Though it was the man’s gold color eyes that hypnotized Akihito with their enthralling stare. A sudden flicker of an almost memory invoked a sense of familiarity within him.
The man smiled, displayed a pair of sharp white fangs against his blood red lips. Golden irises glowed irresistibly in the candlelight and Akihito was mesmerized at the wicked beauty before him. Even without seeing the fangs Akihito knew that he couldn’t be human. No human could reach such perfection. It was only when Akihito tried to reach for his face, to touch the untouchable, that he realized both his wrists were pinned onto the bed above his head by an icily cold hand.
The trance ended and Akihito began to try and pull his wrists out from the iron grip.“Wha-Let go!”
“Akihito.”
The compelling voice was a husk baritone enriched with sultriness that made Akihito shuddered. Just the single word and Akihito felt his resistance gradually ebbing away and the hazy spell returned, muddling up his mind.
Suddenly, he felt a chill enveloped his body as his shirt ripped open to reveal his chest.
Akihito tried to protest feebly but the cool sensation cut him off. The vampire traced the symbol with his icy finger. Akihito shivered against the cold touch. His reaction seemed to please the vampire as a smirk graced his full lips and he leaned down towards Akihito’s neck.
A warm tongue ran up his throat to the base of his ear. Everywhere the lips had touched Akihito could feel a trail of heat following it. The soft lips lightly pressed against his jaws before travelling to the hollow base of his throat, listening to Akihito’s erratic pulse. Then, a pair of sharp teeth replaced the tongue and grazed against the side of his neck. Akihito squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable pain of the bite, the feeling of blood being drawn from his body, and his life slowly sucked out of him...
...
He opened his eyes and amused golden eyes stared back at him.
“Scared, Akihito?”
The mist that clouded Akihito’s mind instantly vanished and anger replaced it. He opened his mouth but before a single word could be uttered, the vampire closed the gap between them, his cool mouth upon Akihito’s.
Instantly, heat bloomed inside Akihito’s chest like a rose blooming in season. His heart sped up as if there was a hummingbird inside his ribcage, desperately beating its wings. Everything seemed irrelevant. Only the velvet lips on his mattered. A hand snaked behind his head, locking him in place. It didn’t matter that he was currently in a vampire’s lair-
Vampire?
As if a bucket of crushed ice had been thrown over him, Akihito came back to his senses, horrified. Without realizing what he was doing, he slammed his foot against the man’s stomach. Or what should have been the man’s stomach. It felt like he had just kicked a giant boulder. Pain exploded up through Akihito’s foot and leg.
“Ow!”
The vampire froze, eyes wide with surprise before he sat up at the edge of the bed and let out a musical laughter as if Akihito’s action had been something truly entertaining.
Akihito sat up as well and glared at him, his breathing still ragged from the kiss and pulled his clothes tightly around his body.
The vampire’s eyes twinkled like gold as he regarded Akihito.
Akihito wiped his mouth which was still damp from the kiss with the back of his hand. “You-what was that?!”
“A kiss.” The vampire replied nonchalantly, seeming to enjoy the young man’s reaction.
“A kiss-?” He repeated back with disbelief. Heat exploded across Akihito’s cheeks as he thought what had just transpired. Still, he glared at the vampire with all the anger he could muster, his eyes clearly conveyed the message: Who the hell is this rude bastard?
The vampire didn't seem interested in answering Akihito’s unspoken question. He reached his hand out and Akihito’s body went rigid, but he only lifted his injured foot. His cold hands felt soothing against Akihito’s burning foot. Elegant long fingers gently probed at the tender skin. “Does it hurt?”
“...No...” Akihito muttered.
The vampire smiled again and carefully placed his foot back down.
“It’s not broken. But this is the first time that I’ve been kicked by a human,” he mused, his eyes glittered with mirth.
“Serves you right,” Akihito mumbled angrily and retracted his foot away from the vampire’s reach. He curled protectively into a ball in the corner of the bed. He only hoped that this vampire was a temporary guest of ‘Lord Asami‘ and that he would never see this bastard again.
Hopefully a meteor will land on the bastard’s head on his way home.
“Ahem.”
The man in glasses stood there at the doorway, a thick wad of documents in his hand. Akihito felt goosebumps rising up his arms. He never heard the man arrive. Wait, how much did he see?!
Expressionless, the man in glasses spoke in a voice that betrayed nothing. “Asami-sama, these papers still await your attention.”
Asami-sama?
He turned to look at the vampire sitting a metre away from him.
Wait, this is Lord Asami of Sion?!
A hint of horror gradually mixed in with his anger.
Did I just kick THE Asami-sama?!
“I’m busy.” Asami’s tone was cool, his eyes never leaving Akihito’s face, but that didn’t deter the other man.
“Takaba-sama must surely be tired from his long journey. It’s best if he rests for the reminder of the evening.”
Asami sighed, and he acquiesced to the other man. With a hint of a smile on his lips and a small nod of his head, he looked into Akihito’s defiant stare and said, “Sleep well, Akihito.”
Then, without a sound both men were gone with the door closed firmly behind them, leaving Akihito with nothing but the heat lingering on his lips and neck.
Finally unfreezing his muscles, Akihito angrily hurled a pillow towards the door ten seconds too late. It landed with an unsatisfying soft thump against the door. He threw himself under the duvet, mortified. What the hell was that about? It didn’t matter whether or not that person was Lord Asami of Sion or not, that doesn’t make him able to do whatever he wants, so surely he deserved that kick. But he did kick the vampire. Will the date of his death sentence move up? But he didn’t seem to be angry. The vampire’s actions were abstruse and the more Akihito thought about what had happened, the more baffled he became. And worst of all, a tiny part of his brain whispered that he didn’t hate the kiss.
After turning and tossing for hours, he finally fell into an uneasy sleep, anger and confusion and something else unfamiliar to him still swirling in his mind.
**********
The room was still. Not even a single dust stirred, as if a magical spell had been casted upon the room.
A dark, human shaped shadow sat at the edge of the bed, bending over the sleeping figure. His hand softly touched the pale cheek, brushing the stray strands of blond hair away from the sleeping face. A melancholy expression flitted across the raven haired vampire’s face and he looked at the boy, whose quiet breathing was the only sound in the castle. The boy frowned in his sleep and mumbled something incoherent. Asami gently touched the wrinkles between the brows. The boy’s long eyelashes quivered slightly against his cheeks, before the wrinkles smoothed out and he sighed deeply, as if content, and once again fell into a deep sleep, wrapped in the gentle scent of lavender that drifted throughout the room.
In the dark, Asami whispered softly, “You are finally here, Akihito.”
#asami ryuichi#takaba akihito#finder series#yaoi#you're my loveprize in viewfinder#asami x akihito#yaoi fanfic#yaoi fanfiction#finder series fanfic#finder no hyouteki
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📸✨ DIY vs Professional Services for US Passport Photos ✨📸
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The Best Clipping Path Service Provider in Asia: Unveiling Top Picks!
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Shadow Creation Service
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The Wasted Years, The Wasted Youth
- Japan could not remember what was and what is present. All he knows is that these are fragments.
Trigger Warnings: violence, gore, murder, child abuse
hey so ya’ll can have this 8k one-shot now
-460 “Are we there yet, haha?”, a young boy asks, as he follows his mother through the terrains of the palace, bouncing up and down, while his mother puts her smooth dark hair back in place, as she hums to herself a song she sings to Japan every night to get him to sleep; it was simply entrancing and melodious to the young child as he tugs on her clothing once again to get her attention.
She simply smiles at him, her kindly eyes full of natural fire, as she bends down to pick up her son, who giggles underneath her grasp. “We’re almost there, watashi no musuko.”
His mother kisses his forehead, and he giggles a little, looking at his mother with cheerful grey eyes, feeling his mother’s warmth envelop him. Japan sees bright light up ahead, and he coos at his mother, asking if they are almost there, to which she nods with full certainty, as she bends down and lets him go- now he misses his mother’s warmth, and he tugs at her clothes to signal he wants to be carried by her, but she laughs.
“You have two feet, shin’aina”, she replies playfully, and Japan huffs petulantly. She kisses his cheek, as she takes his hand, warmth once again enveloping the both of them, and her son smiles as they make their way to the gardens.
He could see that there are two boys in the gardens, talking to each other, looking virtually the same in any other way, but the taller of the two looking experienced, his dark hair cropped short and smooth, his crimson red eyes brimming with ambition, toying with the weapon on his hilt. The shorter of the two had dark hair and purple eyes, and he was talking to the taller boy with a worried tone.
Japan could feel his mother’s grip tightening around him, sweat covering her palm, and he looks up- she was biting her lip, eyeing the two boys with a wary look on her face.
As mother and son approach the pair however, they cease talking, the gardens now once again full of peaceful quiet, as they both turn to them, eyes on Japan. The first boy’s red eyes bore into Japan’s mind, his blood running cold as his heart stops in horrid fear, his lungs pushing him to breath harder, hating the fact that his red eyes were the shade of blood; his eyes were now brimming with a mixture of ambition and hatred. The other glares at Koku as if he had done wrong, but his ice-cold glare could never match up to the blood-shot eyes of his brother.
“Teikoku, Tokyo, where is your mother?”, Japan’s mother asks, lips curling, “or was she too… unwell to visit the palace?”
Teikoku’s glare now targets Kyoto, his teeth gritting as his eyes spit fire. “We decide to visit this place to see our own father.”
Kyoto sighs a little, “He is busy today.”
Teikoku raises a brow, “He is busy with what? Spending time with his concubines?”
Kyoto bites her lip; meanwhile, Japan was in awe of how glorious these men look, but their eyes are filled with hate as they stare at him, as if he was the cause of all their grievances, even if he was a youth oblivious to the matters they concern themselves with, wishing to forever keep his innocence and peace, wanting his entire life to be nothing more than butterflies and flowers.
Kyoto’s gaze hardens, “Go back to your mother, or your tutors. You have no place in the sun.”
Teikoku scoffs, a smirk playing on his lips as his gaze turns back to Japan, “You are just afraid we will taint your son. Oh well, goodbye, baishunpu.”
As they leave mother and son, the elder one turning back to give Japan one last murderous glare, they bring with them the peculiar and strange feeling that he had felt from the start. He tugs on his mother’s sleeve, gaining her attention.
“Who are they, mama?”
“No need to think about them, my taiyō, their wickedness has no place in your heart.” She puts a finger to his chest and he giggles.
+1
Japan dreams of he and his mother, in a field of flowers, the number of butterflies swarming and fighting for the pollen of the plants, but in the end it disturbs the peace he and his mother had made for themselves, as colourful wings flutter left and right, up and down, making him a little dizzy, his entire body wishing to swat these damned insects away, no longer is he fond of how beautiful the patterns on their wings are, and he swats them away, away from him and at his mother, who was strangely not disturbed by them.
Then as he takes a look back at his mother, who was so awfully serene in the midst of a butterfly apocalypse, he drops everything in his arms in horror.
She was a corpse, sitting on the grass that is now attached to her dead skin, the warm smile always on her face dead, her eyes closed as if she was sleeping, her hair falling down in clumps as her hands are now already shredded to the bone.
He screams in horror as the butterflies direct their attention towards her body, now devouring the only kindred soul he had.
Japan immediately wakes, his heart beating in rhythm with his breaths, entire body shaking as he panics; he is enveloped in darkness, beads of sweat dripping down from his face and into wherever they dropped into, his grey eyes finding a source of light that would calm him from his nightmare, still seeing the corpse of his mother in his eyelids.
He questions why he was not in his comfortable bedroom, his head pounding and his heartbeat accelerating, his throat sore as if he had screamed a thousand screams in his own mouth, his long dark hair wet, perhaps from his sweat. The only thing he could feel was the hardness of this damned bed, gnawing at him with their texture of hate, wishing for him to suffer the same fate as them, stuck in the darkness, as evil looms inside this room, no company whatsoever.
Then he smells the blood on his clothes, fresh and sweet, and his fingers mangled, feeling his fingernails scrape stone.
And then he remembers everything.
-2
Japan cosies himself more into his mother’s lap, as she silently fixes his hair, strangely distracted as if her son is not the only thing in her mind, as if her mind has jumbled up too much of her reality and she is now about to pay the price for her salvation. She was not even humming any types of song, as if she had never sang in front of her child in the first place and that she had lost her voice all from worry of the unknown.
“Why do you look so scared, haha?”, he asks Kyoto, who perks up from the rather odd interruption, finally noticing there is youthful life in her room.
Kyoto smiles down at her child, her smile comparable to the cherry blossoms at bloom, but more majestic and entrancing, her lips the soft petals that flow in the wind, as he watches them with his mother in amazement.
“I’m not scared, I’m simply worried, my dear”, she replies with a small sigh, tickling the child underneath her arms as he babbles and giggles out loud. “Worried that your father’s reign will come to an end, and leave you as his heir.”
Japan blinks up at Kyoto, grey eyes full of confusion. “But mama, why don’t you want me to be heir? It is my birthright after all.”
She only gives him a sad smile, “You will be too young to rule if your father’s reign would end so abruptly. I cannot help you and only your father’s ministers will help you. Especially those two young men…”
Japan nods; he does not understand his mother’s constant worry for him, as he wants to be emperor of the country now and forever, but he knows his mother was simply worried for him. She goes back to minding her own business, disregarding the fact that her son exists, so he decides to comfort his mother, wishing to bring her out of her wit’s end.
“Haha?”, he gains his mother’s attention once again, as she looks back at him with questions in her eyes, but it did not succeed in taking her spirit away.
“Yes, aisare shi-sha?”, she asks, her voice covered with sweetness.
“Watashi no tame ni utaemasu ka”, he asks from her mother, who smiles and kisses his forehead, obeying her son.
“Mochiron, watashi no musuko”, she replies, as she clears her throat, handling Japan tightly as if he was a newborn baby, opening her mouth to unleash the most beautiful voice he has heard a thousand times in life.
Her voice was brilliant; as if she was performing in all those theatres he had seen for himself, none talking of her marvellous talent except for him and only him, as she starts to sing a song he has heard one thousand and one times, getting tired of the lullaby but never getting tired of the singer.
“Nennen korori yo, Okorori yo. Bōya wa yoi ko da, Nenne shina.
Bōya no omori wa, Doko e itta? Ano yama koete, Sato e itta.
Sato no miyage ni, Nani morotta? Denden taiko ni, Shō no fue.”
Japan, never really one for staying late, yawns as he hears his mother’s voice, always there to make him feel better, always there to comfort him in his times of need, as if her voice was his path finder in life, and without it he will suffocate at the hands of evil, its claws digging into his neck. His mother must have sensed his exhaustion, as she softly chuckles and kisses him on the forehead.
“Yukkuri o yasumi, little one.”
(Japan only realised now that this was the last time he gets to hear her sing.)
+100
Everything has become routine for him; him scratching on the walls, desperately in search of an exit before giving up as he gasps in pain, one of his nails clipped off by the impenetrable stone walls, lounging on his make-shift bed, staring boredly into the darkness, wishing for something worthwhile to happen, wishing to entertain himself rather than sleeping since the only thing he sees is his mother who is dead-
He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself, softly humming a song his mother used to sing to him when he was but an innocent, naive small boy (he still was; though he could not say life was kind to him now), who has unfortunately been taught that life has its uphills and downhills, that life would spit acid on your face and call it a day in the hardest way possible.
He tries counting the days with his own fingers scraping into the mouldy and dirty stone walls, his only friend the darkness.
His ears then hear the sound of metal clinking, knowing the guards are once again back with his food, knowing this is his one chance in escaping this inferno he had created all by himself.
“Well well well, if it isn’t my dearest brother.” Japan’s ears perk up, knowing that disgusting voice all too well, the voice full of too much pleasure and madness, as if he was possessed by a demon that still controls every action and reaction of his. He finds himself face to face with those crimson red eyes swirling with madness and ambition, as if he never fulfilled his dreams despite the fact he had taken his father’s throne.
And Japan’s right to it as well.
His younger brother did not have the heart to reply, his days being accompanied by darkness not treating him well, the small foods and morsels he had scraped by cannot sustain his hunger, nor do the bowls of water could sustain his parched self. So all he could do is stare up at Teikoku with his dead grey eyes, knowing that his brother’s eyes still instill fear inside him, continuing to gnaw in his insides until he drops dead from fright.
After gaining the courage and energy to do so, softly, he asks, “What are you doing here?”
The sly grin on Teikoku’s face grows wider. “To see if you are still alive; I am quite surprised you managed a hundred days living and rotting in this cell.”
Japan does not speak, too exhausted from his question a while ago, his head hung low, eyes on the stone floors, which are being lit by the light from the ajar metal door.
“Well, since I see you are still - disappointedly - alive, I will leave you now.” Without giving his younger brother a second glance, he stalks out of the cell, and closes the door, once again leaving Japan being embraced by the darkness.
-453
Japan once again encounters the strange brothers that he had seen in the palace gardens a few days ago, talking to each other as if they were in the privacy of their house.
“Father has grown weak, Tokyo”, says Teikoku, his posture straight, his eyes pinning down on his younger brother, who was trying not to be afraid of him. “It is time for a new administration to rise and topple the old one to the ground. The shogunate must fall.”
“You mustn't say such dastardly things in public!”, Tokyo berates his brother, his voice soft with fright and the fear people were listening to their conversation. “We will be deemed as traitors!”
Teikoku scoffs, and Japan could tell this man has confidence and pride mixing to one, which will be his downfall in the near future. “Let them hear us; after all, what evidence do they have against us when they face Father’s court? None. None at all.”
“Even if the shogunate does fall, we will not be the one to inherit it.” Tokyo’s face sours with recall. “It will be that little kaibutsu taking what is rightfully ours.”
Teikoku laughs, wicked and evil, “He would not stand a chance against us. We have expertise on combat and swords and knowledge, while he cannot read most words.”
The two brothers laugh at the elder’s joke, all the while making Japan lose confidence in himself, as if the words of these two bullies could change the duality of time, as if they can actually and directly change the way things run in this country, nothing more and nothing less. He takes a small deep sigh, his entire cheery and jovial mood crushed by fear and paranoia, the brothers’ treats feeling real, their determination to get to their dreams so frightening to his childish brain, still clinging onto the hope that he shall succeed his father, the greatest of all shoguns.
(He meets with his mother, who was worried sick of where he had wandered off to, and his mood lightens as he snuggles warmly with his mother.)
+1,023
He paces around his cell, head hung low to the floors he could never see in the darkness, his grey eyes seeing and noting nothing but shades of black, black, black. As if he was underground, in a location that will never be known to men. He paces back and forth, back and forth with no end, as if his entire life has now been reduced to atoms with the absence of light, his feet mindlessly brushing on stone after stone, his head not lost in thoughts nor memory, but lost in nothing.
There was nothing in his mind, no thoughts that can save himself from the slowly growing insanity inside of him, waiting to pounce and cackle as it does; no memories come up, and if some do come up they are tainted by the human mind’s need of imagining everything was still fine, nothing was wrong, that he was not trapped in this cell for god knows how long.
Truth be told, the man pacing his cell did not even remember his name, or why he was here, and what did he do to belong in such a solemn place, no hope of escaping and no hope of seeing light come across this tight-locked cell.
Just like his mind, his world had gone dark, not knowing where he was, not knowing if he still had a will to live.
Then he stops pacing, his grey eyes blinking with light that he had never had after being put here in this jail from so long ago, his mind finally turning on his gears, suddenly yet briefly. He considers it for a moment, before his eyes turn up dead, as if a flashlight had turned off.
He goes back to pacing maddeningly in his cell.
-234
“Haha!”, Japan exclaims as he runs towards his mother’s throne, throwing himself upon her with such force, almost knocking her off balance.
His mother laughs, comforting him, “My, you have gotten big. Tell me, have you been eating lots?”
Japan smiles as he nods enthusiastically, “Yes mama! The foods the cooks made were delicious!”
She kisses her son’s cheek, eliciting a giggle from him. “I am so proud, Japan! Make sure you eat lots to grow faster!”
“Or you will grow fat”, grumbles his father, who was staring at his wife and heir with the most critical grey eyes, his glare striking fear inside of his son. “And you will be immobilized from wars and battles that you must participate in for glory.”
His wife scowls back at him, cradling her son like a small child. “Do not kill our joy, Tokugawa.”
He scoffs, leaning back on his throne, “My only son with my dear wife is a weakling.”
Japan feels a pang of hurt in his chest, as his eyes widen, brimming with tears, while his mother’s eyes flare with anger. She softly lets Japan go from her arms, as her son goes back to staring at his father, wanting to know he has hurt him in the worst possible way, but his eyes are now pinned on his wife, who stands defiantly from her throne, glaring at the shogun.
“He is not a weakling!”, her mother flares, “he is a child who has not been educated yet! If we are talking about weaklings here, it is you!”
Tokugawa abruptly stands up, his shadow looming on both Kyoto and her cowering son, gritting his teeth, his fists clenched, his grey eyes erupting with anger and hatred for his wife, but instead of striking her right then and there, he grabs her wrist, much to her shock and surprise, as he leads her away from the throne room, leaving a worried Japan.
“Haha!”, he exclaims, and his mother turns around to give him a small but grief-stricken smile.
“Shinpaishinaide, watashi no ko”, she replies with a comforting voice, drowning out his fear, “Watashi wa tsuyoidesu.” She vanishes with her husband, never to be seen that afternoon.
(She returns in the evening with a bruised eye, unable to walk as if her legs were unstable. Japan worriedly asks her if she was all right, and she smiles, replying that she is fine.)
+2,304
How does age work?
Does the body increase in age as if it was moving forwards through time, a vessel for experimentation, as they carry a living conscience inside of them as a journey through time?
He had been stuck in this cell for… apparently he lost count, but that hardly even matters anymore, since he cannot move properly in this damned cramped cell, legs wishing to stretch in the widest of rooms, arms wishing to reach up the highest ceilings, wanting nothing but a cell full of more room, as if the cells are purposefully closing in on him, as he can smell its mouldy stone walls and musty old floors.
Every time he wakes up from a dreamless, thoughtless, and memoryless sleep, he is greeted with the fact that he is now going to spend his entire life in a cell that cannot sustain his needs, being greeted with nothing but darkness as his way of life, the remaining air in his cell making him suffocate.
Or; the lack of it.
It was like he forgot everything someone had taught him about the world, as if he stopped existing and was merely a space in this cramped cell, no escape and no way to tell if he lives or not, his heart in pieces, his mind blank, his memories never surfacing, as if they had grown too tired of his grievances and up and left him.
Quiet reigns supreme in his cell with no room, unable to give him air, water or food he desires, as he goes back to sitting on what used to be his make-shift bed, knowing he could never fit in it.
-321
Japan was minding his own business in the gardens, resolving to wait for his mother who was busy handling important matters, cooing at the butterflies that continuously feast on the flower’s nectar, their wings still enchanting their watcher, who stares at them, fascinated, with how beautiful and elegant they are.
The feast of the butterfly has been interrupted by a shrill scream echoing across the garden, making Japan flinch and the butterflies flutter away in unison.
The source of the scream was a woman who looks close to the age of his mother, hair wild and unkept, purple eyes swirling with madness as she runs towards the palace, the guards chasing after her, trying to restrain her.
She was looking around wildly, screaming to herself as she disappears into the palace, the guards still not being able to restrain her.
Japan stares at the spot where he had last seen her, a frightened and confused feeling inside of him, as if that woman was the root of all his nightmares coming to life, wanting to devour him the way the looming darkness in his dreams gobble him up.
Then he hears the voice of two familiar brothers bickering. Japan turns his eyes on the two who enter the palace, Tokyo looking at Teikoku with something akin to fear and worry, while Teikoku had an unreadable expression on his face, his emotions somewhat absent.
“You should not have scared Mother like that”, Tokyo says, his eyes searching the entire gardens. “Now she will be the laughingstock of the court… again.”
Teikoku rolls his eyes, “As she should be- she goes talking about how I am a demon but in reality she fits the description.”
Tokyo gives him a look, “Be polite! You are talking about our Mother!”
“Does not seem like one”, Teikoku mutters, his eyes catching Japan frolicking in the gardens, and he smirks evilly, “Mother Dearest is not a mother.”
As the two brothers disappear into the palace to search for their mother, Japan felt even more frightened of the elder.
+2,546
His body is empty; no brain, no soul, no voice heard, as if no one has remembered he existed, to the point even he himself starts to consider that he was no more, and that he is just a vessel, a vessel to a life that had once existed, but he’s not sure if he was alive.
So he stands in this suffocating and dark cell, depriving him of the light and air he needs to survive, but that is alright; he’s not alive anymore, he’s dead, his name smeared off of history and the fact that Teikoku took all the glory and fame he deserved.
That is the only name that stuck inside his empty mind.
Teikoku.
He cannot remember who or what he is, if he was friend or enemy or rival, but every time he thinks of his name, he feels pain, anger, anguish and desolation, as if he was the harbinger of every remaining conflicting feelings inside of his empty and dark abyss he calls his mind.
Ah yes, a name to remember, all over the years.
-55
Japan runs around the palace, searching every nook and cranny for his mother, even asking the servants if they had seen her. They point to his mother’s private quarters, and his eyes light up, like a pirate finding its treasure. “Haha! I finally found y-”, he stops short as he sees his mother and a mysterious woman having tea in the middle of the room.
“Musuko!”, says his haha, standing up, fixing her attire as she excuses herself from the pretty lady, as she makes her way to cradle her child in her arms. “Do not intervene in people’s conversations again!”
Japan gives his mother an apologetic look, “I’m sorry, mama.” His eyes shot towards the pretty lady, who was pouring tea over her tea cup. “And who is she, mama?”
“Japan!”, his mother scolds once again, “do not-”
The lady chuckles, “It’s fine, Kyoto- no need to get agitated.” She flashes a smile towards the small boy, “my name’s the United States of America, or America for short.”
There was something in that woman, whether it be the way she looks so pretty to the point it compels him to stay with the two girls who go back to their - slightly heated - conversation, the teapot between them steaming as Kyoto once again pours tea into her cup. As they were talking to each other (which was tuned out by him), Japan was busily - or just enchanted - staring at the pretty lady with a pleasant smile on her face. Her golden hair was tied into a braid, which in turn was tied into a small bun. Her skin was dotted by freckles; they look like the stars in the night sky now blessed into her skin, and her green eyes were just like the gardens; he can get lost in them any single day.
There was something in that lady that made his heartbeat increase even faster, as if he had ran a complete route from the gardens towards the town square, as if there were butterflies in his stomach that wished to escape and flutter over the entire room, lighting up the entire room.
And when she glances at him, a thunderstorm meeting a rich forest, she smiles, as if they will meet again, someday.
(They meet again in their next life, in a not-so pleasant way.)
+28,342
He hears the metal door in his cell open, for the first time in what felt like a millenium of waiting. Waiting for something that was never there, and if it was there, it simply vanished because worthless fucks decided to forget they have left something lying upside down, all worn out from years of torment and torture.
He doesn’t bother turning around, but the open door finally gives him a glimpse of his small and cramped cell, always covered in the darkness, and he sees a stone wall in front of him, feeling someone in front of him, hesitating to move and confront the man in the darkness.
“Hello, Japan”, the newcomer softly says, his voice familiar but nothing comes across the prisoner’s mind, lost in the darkness. But he can feel anger rising in him, the same reaction whenever he thinks of Teikoku’s name in his mind, but weaker and lackluster. “Anata wa seichō shimashita.”
The chained man lifts his head, but still not facing him, his eyes up the ceiling now, full of obsolete stone. He tries to find something, anything, a voice or word to respond to this newcomer that finally made him see light again.
“That’s my name?”, he finally asks, softly and surely, his voice too quiet to even be heard in this closed cell. “‘Japan?’”
The newcomer hesitates a little, “Hai, that is your name, since birth.” His voice softens even more, to something more fatherly and regretful. “Oh Japan, I’m sorry we did that to you.”
He immediately whirls to face him, surprising the man in front of him a little as he staggers back, meeting the prisoner’s messy hair and blood-shot grey eyes wanting nothing but to murder, his lips pressed to a thin line, his body thin and gaunt, skin pale from the lack of sunlight that they supposedly need to survive. The prisoner tries long and hard to recall this pathetic man’s name, the way his lips would curl in disgust in his first few years inside that damned cell, rotting.
“Bastard”, he hisses, letting out a shaky breath. “What are you doing here? To come laugh at me? To taunt me? To make fun of me? Spill!” His body was shaking, finally showing emotion after all these years of showing nothing but emptiness.
The man shifts uncomfortably, his eyes never leaving Japan. “I’m not here to taunt taunt nor insult you. I’m here to visit you.”
Japan’s growing anger is about to reach new heights, as he whirls around to see the last face he saw before he is locked up in this cell like a bird. He changed a lot from the years that he could not count with his fingers, with his short-cropped hair and violet eyes now withholding regret, his glasses glinting in the dim lights.
“Why now?”, he asks, softly, feeling tired and weary after shouting at the man who turned his life upside down, left and right, stopping him from an eternity of happiness. “Why did you do this to me? Did I do something wrong that made you imprison me in the darkness?”
He slowly raises his eyes, his body still shaking with such intensity that would put even the earthquakes he had witnessed to shame. “Sometimes I’d think long and hard about what happens to people who put children in jail.”
A few seconds later, he is now alone again in his cell, the darkness welcoming him back with open arms, and instead of screaming and crying and wanting to see the real sun, he welcomes Her with open arms.
-69
It was a stormy day, meaning he would not be able to play in the gardens today, as he stares sadly at the downpour, longingly waiting for it to go away. He is no stranger to the rain, but sometimes his mood dampens with the weather, as if it controls his emotions and feelings to the winds, as the dark grey clouds shower the entire world with drops of liquid in various shapes and sizes.
He inches away from the window as he sees a streak of lightning from a distance, shivering a little from the cold gusts of wind that keeps blowing in his direction, as if he was just a simple obstacle to be knocked off. Lightning streaks were a sign a rumble of thunder is coming, slowly but surely, and it does; like a demon trying to say he is here and he should marvel in his presence.
Japan shrieks as another flash of lightning, this time nearer to his place, sends him tumbling down from his bed, and into the floors.
He starts to cry from the sheer harshness of his fall, as if this was the most painful thing life had done to him, the pain like a hundred men falling down on him. From the midst of his crying, he hears the sliding door open and a soft gasp before two arms start cradling him softly, feeling someone’s hair touch his skin, comforting him, calming the boy down, telling him it is all right.
“Oh, Japan”, his mother coos, voice soft and rich with caring and love, something he had loved in her from the very beginning. “Subete ga seijōdearu.”
+20,129
He grapples at his overgrown hair as if it was his enemy, tearing strands of his hair down in small clumps, falling to the ground like rain he never saw again after he was locked in this now tight and suffocating cell, as he screams. His scream was not from the fact the cell is slowly killing him with its lack of air nor the voices in his mind replacing the serene nothingness, but simply at the fact that he wants to hear himself, he wants to hear the walls echo his own voice, but all he could hear was his bones cracking to the sounds of his scream as his hands try pulling more of his hair out.
He closes his eyes in on the walls, locking him in limbo, forever and ever.
As if his fingers were claws, as if they were sharp and can tears this wall, down, his madness still building up from all these years of inglorious rage and desperation to get out of this damned cell, he turns on to the walls that had took him in as a friend and a foe, his screams becoming more and more agitated as time goes on and on and on.
He starts to create his masterpiece, fingers scraping on the hard walls that torment him every single day, the scraping of his fingers on the olden concrete singing a high-pitched and off-tune music, chanting for disarray. He howls in pain as he feels one of his fingernails break and drop to the floors, hearing its clink, but his work is not done, knowing that he is far from done, knowing he still have not left his mark, as he keeps on scraping and vandalising this damned walls for sheer entertainment, because if no one can do it he had to do this to himself; he does not care if he will break or dislocate any of his fingers, or some of his fingernails break from the intensity of his vandalism, nor does he care if his hands are mangled or bleeding.
A few hours (minutes? days? seconds?) he stops, feeling the numbing of his own pain, panting and trying to breath through, his grey eyes trying to make sure he remembered those words, remember the way they were structured, remember everything. Even from the darkness of the cell, he knew what he spelt out,
“Watashi wa sonzai shimasu.”
-192939488
Is this the past?
Is this the present?
He can’t remember anymore.
He can only remember what’s After now.
+21,456
He pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out an annoyed sigh as the metal doors open once again, revealing Tokyo, with a bandage on his left hand. Honestly, his visits are making Japan miss the darkness and the close walls tormenting him slowly but surely. He did not want the man who partnered with Teikoku to visit him, over and over again, every week, every month, every year. Let him be at peace.
“What do you want now?”, he asks curtly, glaring up at Tokyo, who was awkwardly biting his lip.
“How much do you remember about your mother?”
Japan stiffens, his thought process stopping, his grey eyes widening, as he turns to stare at Tokyo in anger and fury. He stands, his body shaking with pure rage; before Tokyo could look back, he had cornered his half-brother inside of his own cell, knowing the two of them both won’t have any room to breathe. He grits his teeth as he digs his fingernails into Tokyo’s recent injury, and he screams out loud in pain.
Japan huffs out a laugh as he punctured injured skin, making Tokyo wish for death with his own voice. “Your pain today isn’t measurable compared to mine.”
All of a sudden, he lets his older brother go, as Japan stalks back to the furthest corners of his cell, back turned from his brother, who was swearing and crying like the bastard he was, as he fumbles around to fix his bandage, an injury topped by another injury, both made by Japan himself.
He lets out a bitter laugh while Tokyo continues whining, before he starts to cry. “I wish I had saved her, you know. The only light in my life destroyed by you.”
+28,299
Grey eyes stare into Tokyo’s brown ones, unable to conceal his bitterness and anger for both the brothers. “You both know that I’m the rightful heir.”
He does not respond, knowing he cannot explain himself to a lonely and bitter man, deprived of beautiful youth, and can only nod shakily, his eyes full of fear. Then he feels hands on his neck, slowly suffocating him, making him gasp as the fingers tighten their grip around his windpipe.
“Say it”, Japan hisses out in the softest voice he can muster, and with surprising strength he lifts Tokyo up until his head hits the ceiling, the man writhing in the cuckold. “Say that I’m the real heir and that Teikoku is the fake.”
His captive lets out a choked response, trying to answer.
“Say it”, Japan says with more force in his voice now, the intent to murder hidden. “SAY THAT I’M THE REAL HEIR!”
“You are”, Tokyo finally chokes out, “you are you are you are.”
+28,323
Tokyo looks back over his shoulder to find Japan still standing, in the centre, his eyes on the shadow casted by the sunlight above him. He raises a brow and tilts his head, “Japan, come on, we’re running late! I’m running late!”
His younger half-brother ignores him, his eyes still on the shadow, his grey eyes brimming with fascination- the shadow mimics his movements, as if it was a darker version of him, attached to his feet. His skin feels like it was being caressed by generous and warm hands, the sun that is said to be burning him like he was in hell a friend, giving him the warmth he never received in the cell, the open space giving him enough air to breathe.
“Japan!”, he hears his brother call out to him, and he slowly walks towards Tokyo, watching his legs move in the sunlight, the corners of his lips moving upward, trying to form a smile.
After all these years, longing and wanting to see the damned light, he can finally gaze at the sun again; he can finally be free to walk; free from the darkness. Free from his life as a vessel of the unknown. Free from being non-existent, because he finally exists.
Finally.
+28,360
Tokyo was out for the day, meaning that Japan has the apartment all by himself. He stares at the dozen books scattered on the table, the abandoned coffee cup by the window sill, and the general lack of someone looming all over him, he decides the best way to keep him entertained is to read a few books Tokyo had left hanging around. He picks one up from the pile that was enough to fascinate him, as he sits down on a chair, his fingers studying the texture of the paper, as he flips from page after page, skimming from paragraph to paragraph.
A few hours after, he finishes the book, and now he feels bored, so he goes to Tokyo’s room, promising to himself that he will leave soon after. He knows he is invading his brother’s privacy, but he too had been invading his cell for the past few years, so might as well do it to him as payback. He opens the lights in Tokyo’s room, to find the entire place - frustratingly - messy. He groans to himself as he takes a step in, cautiously avoiding stepping on the things cluttered around the floor.
Japan stares at Tokyo’s wardrobe, before opening it and taking out a uniform that was old and dusty, knowing that he doesn’t use this anymore. Entertained at the fact he can mock Tokyo once he finally gets home, Japan starts to put the uniform on him, a childish spirit rekindled inside of him, as he slowly but surely buttons his shirt on, looking for a mirror that can let him see his entire body.
(He had only looked in a mirror now, as he sees appearances a waste of time- well, fairly because he is hidden from everyone else.)
He finds a full-length mirror near Tokyo’s study, and he rushes to it to see how he looks- and then stops abruptly, finally getting a taste of his reflection for what felt like a long time. Despite the fact he has been tearing at his hair in mad fits for what felt like forever, his dark hair was a mess, strands reaching far and wide. His grey eyes were shining with emptiness, and his frame thin but tall, skin as pale as the ice that covers the country in winter.
He recalls the times when his mother would say that he had his father’s most beautiful eyes, and how she would make him feel important by saying that; it worked, for a long, long time. And today, he realises that he would have wanted his mother’s beautiful brown eyes; they were the ones that had guided him into the world where everything was cherry blossoms falling down in his face until the tree trunks came to topple him down.
Gingerly, he touches his reflection, his body once again shaking, his mind racing with thoughts about how this was wrong, how his mother should have been alive and him dead, ceasing to exist in this world, but instead it was in reverse. His lip was quivering, as he tries remembering what his mother looked like… her red lips smiling down at him with love and warmth… her brown eyes mature but caring… her arms like a nest to nurture him with… her voice the most melodious thing he has ever heard… her dark hair smooth and silky soft.
None of which he had gotten from his mother, as he looks in the mirror.
“Haha”, he whispers, as he drops to his knees, no longer able to support himself once again, as he now unleashes a stream of tears, dripping down his face. “I’m… sorry.”
“You shouldn’t be.” A voice snaps him out of his breakdown, as he looks up in the mirror to find his mother, smiling at him, as if she were alive.
“Mama?”, he asks softly, his voice merely a whisper in this room. “B-but you’re dead!”
She chuckles a little, as she drapes her arms around Japan; he should not be feeling anything, but he felt warmth embrace him once again. “I may be dead in the real world, but I will always live in your mind.”
Japan shakes his head, still sniffling and sobbing. “You must be disappointed in me, mama.”
She shakes her head, putting her lips to his forehead, “I am not disappointed, my son. I will forever be proud of you. I will be by your side as you finally finish your quest for glory.”
Japan blinks, confused. “‘Quest for glory?’”
There was something in her dark brown eyes now; vengeance and revenge. “Kill the one who decided to rewrite our fates like this. And then, you will have peace, now and forever.”
“But Mother… killing is wrong…!”
“But Teikoku killed me, and he has killed thousands of innocent lives too. Do you think murdering the bastard will have an equal effect on what he did to the entire world? No.”
Japan’s mind goes back and forth, in circles and then forming more and more shapes, as he tries to formulate a response against this ghost (hallucination? curse?). Murder is wrong, his mind supplies, but his heart tells him it is time for Teikoku to get what he deserved, to make him beg for death and he giving it to the suffering man with no conscience whatsoever.
He smiles, turning to grin at his mother.
“Perhaps I let that old bastard live long enough.”
+28,365
Two brothers are caught in a dance, a dance that decides one another’s fate, as they kick and punch and shoot with all of their might and strength, giving each other sensitive vocabulary as they chase and catch. The grey-eyed brother tackles his elder brother, making him cough up blood as Teikoku kicks at Japan’s ribcage, and he howls in pain, as Teikoku uses it as a distraction and kicks Japan off of him. He topples over, as now Teikoku has the upper hand, looking down at him with anger and madness.
It scared him a long time ago, but now it doesn’t- not anymore.
“You think I will spare you once again after you did this to me?!”, he bellows, “I showed you leniency once upon a dream! A chance to rot in the cells, but you decide to waste it after assaulting me.”
Japan spits on his face, and he uses that as an advantage as he kicks at Teikoku’s legs and shoots a bullet, which lodges on Teikoku’s shoulder. He gasps in pain as blood drips over his mouth once again, but before he could move Japan kicks him on the skull, the floors breaking his fall in a hard manner. Teikoku screams, both in pain and in anger, but now Japan has a firm grip on Teikoku’s injured shoulder, pulling it as hard as he can until he can hear joints cracking.
“You… meiwaku”, Teikoku hisses and he gasps, Japan stepping on his ribcage as if it were a toy, his step becoming harder, harder, harder. “You will die an inglorious death.”
Japan cackles, a sneer on his face, as his grey eyes shine throughout the light, exchanging his gun for a dagger. “I’d find pleasure ripping out your heart.” Teikoku pants, his hands discreetly reaching for a pole, closer and closer, as Japan busies himself with his knife.
“So, sayonara, Teikoku.” Japan lunges for Teikoku, eyes wide, full of undefinable insanity.
Teikoku meets his eyes, as he finally reaches the pole and plunges it deep into Japan’s heart just as he lunges. His brother halts, time standing still, but before he processes what had just happened, his grey eyes become blank with death. He breathes hard, as blood drips from Japan’s mouth and into Teikoku’s clothes, his brother staring at Teikoku, before his eyes go listless, dropping the dagger to the ground, as it makes a little noise.
There was silence in the halls for a moment, Teikoku looking everywhere other than the corpse of his older brother, as his eye colour slowly went back to its crimson red, while Teikoku’s red eyes were being replaced by grey, as if the blood had been drained from his body.
Japan crawls away from Teikoku’s corpse, as his body swiftly slides down the pole, the silver graces of the weapon tinged with blood and all things holy.
When the day has come where he have died.
Only to come alive.
0It happened so fast; the guards coming into his and his mother’s home, disturbing the peace that his mother have created in their own terrain, mother and son minding their own business when all of a sudden, as if his years of life are cut short by someone shooting their gun his way, Teikoku’s guards raid their home, holding him and his mother captive, who were both so busy living, breathing, being alive.
“Haha!”, the young boy says, as two guards hoists his mother up, who in turn was too weak to stand, too weak to do anything except look at Japan with her deep brown eyes, wanting him to go, run away as fast as he can. But he knows that he should never leave the source of his happiness behind. Before he could move, however, two more guards hold him back, him and his mother a safe distance from each other, tormenting them. He struggles against his captors, his grey eyes threatening to wage war. “Let me and my mother go!”
“You struggling against my guards is quite… hilarious.” A cold, calm, and frigid voice settles among the people in the room, as Japan hears the steps of the man who has orchestrated this ambush, this sabotage.
Teikoku comes in all his glory, wearing a clean and tidy uniform, his dark hair smooth and cropped, but his eyes still full of madness and ambition, laughing silently at his younger half-brother and his mother, a big smirk on his face. He is here to laugh at them for his entertainment; here to earn pleasure from their pain as he sits on his throne of gold, superior to all, controlling each and everyone of the people’s lives.
Japan meets his eyes, pleading and scared out of his wit, wanting nothing more to escape. “Please, Teikoku… let me and my mother go.”
Teikoku’s smirk grows wider, not really a smirk anymore but a sadistic smile creeping upon his face, his eyes staring down at Japan, huge with fascination and amusement. “But you and your mother stand in the way of the glory of my empire”, he smiles once again, a glint of intent now visible, “I have to take you traitors down.”
He shouts an order to the guards, who immediately obey as they drop his mother down to the floors; she gasps in pain, and Japan writhes underneath the men’s grasp, wanting to be with his mother, wanting Teikoku to leave the both of them alone. Teikoku approaches Kyoto step by step, as the latter was recovering from the assault, before he swiftly tilts her chin up, her deep brown eyes which were full of hope, now replaced with fear.
Teikoku smiles as he points his gun at her, and Japan screams, his mother shooting him one last look-
Everything goes red.
-
Watashi no musuko- my son
Shinai’na- dear
Baishunpu- whore
Taiyō- sun
Aisare shi-sha- beloved
Watashi no tame ni utaemasu ka- can you sing for me Mochiron watashi no musuko- of course, my son
Yukkuri o yasumi- sleep tight
Kaibutsu- monster
Shinpaishinaide, watashi no ko- don’t worry, my child
Watashi wa tsuyoidesu- i am strong Musuko- son
Anata wa seichō shimashita- you’ve grown
Subete ga seijōdearu- everything is alright/fine
Watashi wa sonzai shimasu- I exist
The lullaby that Kyoto sung was Edo Komoriuta or Edo Lullaby
#writing#mine#countryhumans#countryhumans japan#countryhumans japan empire#cityhumans kyoto#countryhumans tokugawa shogunate#cityhumans tokyo
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