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itsuki-minamy · 4 years

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“K - THE FIRST STORY”

CHAPTER 3: THE SWORD, THE CAT, AND THE SEVEN KINGS (Complete)

* Prologue: Side: The Boy * Chapter 1: The boy named Isana Yashiro * Chapter 2: Flames

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

Kuro Yatogami had a mission to fulfill. It is not an exaggeration to say that it means the meaning of living for the current Kuro.

(I ask you, Kuro.)

Miwa said from the hospital bed, and looked at him with compassionate eyes.

Miwa, never showed illness. Kuro wanted to do something for Miwa, but did not provide his care like a nurse, except to prepare the daily meals and take them to bed, and did most of his own work to the end.

He didn't want to believe that Miwa died, but as soon as he fell to the ground, he said, "My life seems to be short.", With a bit of embarrassment, but with a kind look. If Miwa was an ordinary person, he would have said, "Please don't say anything.", But Kuro, who knew Miwa's power, had no choice but to grip his fist tightly and accept it.

Kuro found it difficult to imagine living in a world without Miwa. For Kuro, Miwa's existence was a sign of life. He was worried because he lost him and didn't know if he could walk forward properly.

It may have been because of that Kuro that Miwa announced his death. Even after he died, Miwa showed him the way to go.

On the rooftop of the building in front of Shizume-cho station, Kuro was pointing his sword at a boy.

The boy seems guilty of his sins and is confused by what he does not remember.

But the evidence is already available. From now on, Kuro will kill this boy.

The sword arm has been trained since he was little. However, he has never killed anyone. It would be a lie if he said that he is not scared, but there is no doubt.

(This is the last difficult task.)

Miwa's smiling face after entrusting his life to Kuro was revived, and Kuro focused on the hand holding the sword.

The sword "Kotowari" that Miwa entrusted to him to fulfill his last mandate. He will not needlessly unsheathe this sword.

"Isana Yashiro!"

Kuro proudly pronounced the name the boy gave himself. Grab the handle of the sword with both hands and prepare.

"The word of the seventh king, Miwa Ichigen, is to take your life."

"Wait a minute!"

"Take this!"

The boy turned around and started running.

Kuro didn't chase after him, activating his right hand. It is the power to ignore space and grab the desired object, manifested as a member of the Colorless Clan. He can call it an invisible hand.

Kuro grabs the boy's neck and uses his long, invisible hand to hang him up in the air so he can't escape.

"Are you really going to kill me?!"

The boy screamed, flapping his limbs in the air unsteady. Kuro lowers his eyebrows at the evil of his death.

"Resign yourself!"

"No! I'm innocent! Is it Miwa's order to kill an innocent person?!"

"Innocent?"

Kuro turned his eyes to a huge monitor on the wall of the building. There was still a still image of the boy holding a gun with an evil look.

Kuro released the ability of the right hand dangling the boy. Catch the falling boy with one hand, turn around and look at the giant monitor.

The boy looked ridiculous at the motionless evidence.

"Ah... I may not seem innocent. But aren't you saying it right? People aren't watching, let's judge from the content."

"My idea is that people are not what they seem, they are not what they are on the inside, they should be judged for their actions."

"No, that's why I'm telling you it's not me! You're wrong!"

"No matter how you look at it, it's you. Don't swear wrong!"

“If I took a hundred steps, why didn't you kill me? If I were a murderer, the police would arrest me, the prosecution would prosecute and the judge would decide, that is the right way to go in a law-abiding country."

"My Lord is not in this country. It is only Miwa's word."

First of all, “King” is not something that the police can handle, and since it has no public existence, it does not go through the country's judicial power. There is an alternate organization, "Scepter 4," but Kuro had no intention of leaving this mission, which he received from Miwa, to others.

The boy drowned as if he had lost his power.

"Ok... I can't help saying this. Boil me or bake me, whatever you want."

"Finally ripe."

"But in the end, please allow me to make a request."

When a dying person asks him to make a final request, he can't do anything, but Kuro thought about it for a moment and then replied, "Tell me."

When he released the captured hand, the boy took a seat across from Kuro.

“I want to write a suicide note. To my sister."

"Sister?!"

"Yes. To remember me. I can't help you trust my innocence. But I don't want my sister to believe that someone else killed me."

Criminals have families too. That's obvious. However, Kuro got upset when he was hit by the obvious.

"My sister was born seriously ill and has been hospitalized for a long time. She has never had friends since she was a child, and I am the only person she can talk to... If they killed me, my sister would be alone."

His sister is not guilty. Even though she was sick and hospitalized, he wondered how sad she would be if she didn't have her brother, and Kuro went hard.

The boy took out a sheet of paper and a pen to write a suicide note and wrote something soft. Facing the suspicious boy who decided to make a decision, Kuro asked a question.

"What is your sister's name?"

He wondered if he wanted to postpone the innocent girl's misfortune even further. Maybe the boy was thinking of something else, he glanced at the brochure swaying in the wind on the edge of the rooftop and said vaguely.

"Marilyn."

"What?"

"Oh, yes, Mari. She's Mari."

"Isana Mari. It's a good name."

The boy's pen stopped and the completed suicide note was folded and presented to Kuro.

"Thanks. Well done. Hey, but will you give this to my sister?"

Imagine a little girl crying in a hospital bed, Kuro took a break. The boy ran to Kuro, who was holding his hand to grab that, and said...

"Please. No one else can ask. Because my sister will be alone for the rest of her life..."

When Kuro picked up the letter, the boy stepped back a bit.

He looked at the folded suicide note written in a short time, like a shopping note, and carefully opened it.

Kuro averted his eyes, at the thing that jumped into his sight.

"What is this?!"

When he raised his face, the boy opened a red umbrella and had a round object in his hand, be it a bomb or a firework.

Before Kuro could recover from his surprise, the boy dropped the round object in his hand onto the concrete and turned his back on it.

Frush! An intense light flooded the rooftop. Kuro closes his eyes and covers his face with his arms.

When the light that had lasted for a few seconds faded and Kuro opened his eyes, there was no one there.

There is a door that leads to the ajar building, a protective umbrella that the boy has thrown away, a dog character costume that seems to have been left by a human in this building, and on the ground the suicide note that Kuro grabbed, a paper with a cartoon that raises its thumb with its tongue sticking out and says "Lie."

The brochure the boy was looking at next to it is fluttering and rolling. It was a brochure from a store called "BAR Marilyn", depicting a shameful woman with her skirt up.

Kuro stood still and silent for a while as the wind ruffled his long hair.

It took a long time for him to get angry because he was overwhelmed. Gradually, he raised his eyes to the anger rising from the bottom of his stomach and he rushed open the door to follow the boy. The iron door throbbed too hard, but he couldn't afford it.

Once found, Kuro ran down the ladder into the building, with a strong determination to strike and slash without question.

++++++++++

Kusanagi had decided not to choose the media that day.

The video could be broadcast in the city center centered on Shizume-cho. It will soon be removed by "Scepter 4", but it cannot be said that the video once played was completely absent. That footage will continue to run underground for a time, followed by takedowns and resupplies.

Kusanagi looked at the vehicle that was parked. The interior of the car has been remodeled to make it a temporary information room filled with PC devices.

"How's the 'bounty announcement' going?"

"I'll upload it right now!"

Akagi answered Kusanagi's question and hit the "Enter" key on the computer.

The video of the criminal boy who was still on the huge monitor in front of the Shizume-cho station was changed and the announcement began to flow.

"Reward Notice. I am looking for a boy who shot on the rooftop of the Hirazaka 3-2-5 building in Shizume-cho at 11:45 PM on December 7 this year. Those who contribute powerful information about this boy will receive a 10 million yen prize."

The vast majority of humans will consider it a bad joke. But money is power. There will be quite a few people who will be taken seriously if the rewards will be paid with 10 million for the supply of influential information that will lead to the capture of criminals and the rewards will be paid properly even for other trivial information.

In the vehicle, the PDA of the member of "Homura", who is the reception desk at the same time, begins to ring.

"Yes, this is 'Homura'. Are you the person providing the information?"

"Oh, yes. Ten million. What? It's not a lie. Would you mind not speaking ill of us?"

Seeing Akagi and his friends busy, Kusanagi climbed onto the ladder attached to the back of the truck and looked up at the ceiling.

Talk to Anna, a girl in a red dress, sitting on the roof of the vehicle and looking at the map seriously.

"Did you find something, Anna?"

On the map Anna looked at, several red marbles roll by themselves.

Anna was investigating along with Kusanagi in response to the sighting of Akagi's criminal. Although he made her wait in a safe place so she was not in danger, Anna also witnessed the criminal from a distance. Anna, who recognized the sign of the other party, followed the boy with her sensitive ability.

Anna stared at the marbles without responding for a while. Kusanagi silently watches over his whereabouts so as not to disturb her concentration.

Finally, the rolling marbles gathered in a certain place and stopped.

"Here."

Anna points to a point on the map. Kusanagi raised his hand with the meaning of understanding and appreciation, immediately manipulated his PDA, looked for the map, marked the area indicated by Anna, and sent it to all the members of "Homura".

There was immediate reaction to the group call from the online criminal search members.

“This is a clue! I get it. I'll go immediately!"

The violent voice that answered is Yata's. It seems that he has come a long way, perhaps due to the regret that the black dog has rid himself of the criminal in front of his.

"I went into an alley that is not on the map, hahaha."

"Don't laugh, stupid!"

“Understood… This is Kamamoto. Hmm... I can't let go of my hands, and a little more... Ah, add fried rice!"

"Don't buy any more food!"

"Hey, who are you? What did you say about "Homura"?"

"Ah, is there someone who has made a fool of 'Homura'? Put a marker in the place, we go immediately!"

Kusanagi laughed bitterly as he smoked a cigarette and listened to the loud exchanges of the members.

“Search correctly. Ah, I don't know what to do with the black dog. I can´t help you. Kusanagi, over and out."

Kusanagi sighed slightly after leaving the group call despite Yata's unhappy voice.

"It's not okay, they're just kids."

++++++++++

Kuro was angry.

After all, he couldn't sympathize with the evil "King" and should hate that heinous assassin, Kuro bit his immaturity.

"I'm sorry, Ichigen-sama. However, tonight, I, Yatogami Kuro, am sure that I will fulfill my mission."

Kuro put his left hand on his sword sheath, "Kotowari", with determination.

"Where are you? Isana Yashiro! Get outside!"

The people who are after the fox are roaring loudly in the city.

Listen to the rubbing of the wheels against the ground. Kuro doesn't move and turns his face towards him.

A boy with a metal bat rushes straight towards Kuro, riding a skateboard while spewing flames from all over his body in the form of anger.

Is it the red clan member he encountered earlier? He knows how he feel, but now he is busy...

Kuro frowned slightly and put his strength into his bent legs. To dodge the boy who is rushing towards him with a metal bat, jump high and descend into the street light. He misses the time he was talking about now.

Yata, a member of the red clan on the skateboard, stood up to Kuro's level staring at him.

"Hey, Black dog! Where is that boy?"

"Member of the red clan. What is that?"

"I'm asking where the guy who hid is! If you don't want to hurt yourself, give me a quick answer!"

He can't afford to be a kid. The eyes looking at Yata grew colder than necessary.

"I don't have time to deal with you. Stay away from it."

The murder signal is increasing. Irritation from others rubs off and the air becomes hot.

A suddenly blurry voice echoed in the room.

"Oh, Yatogami-kun! I think I can escape from here. I'm going to get there soon!"

Kuro has doubts and looks for the origin of the voice. Then, he sees a person waving from the rooftop in front of the building.

Without a doubt, the evil "King" who called himself Isana Yashiro.

"You damn..."

Keeping people confused with such a lie, what is he planning?

At the same time that Kuro sharpened his eyes, Yata sharpened his teeth.

"You…!"

"You can defeat such a person in one fell swoop, beat him quickly, and come here soon!"

The boy says that. You see, the purpose is for Kuro to hit the red clansman and escape in the meantime? The villain who keeps circling the tolerance meter, Kuro raised his sword.

"Sorry! I'll tie that guy up after I crush you!"

Yata, easily fanned, raised the outer corners of his eyes and barked. It seemed unlikely that his eyes, burning with anger, would put out the fire, and he decided it was impossible to leave.

Even though Kuro pretends to be calm, he is overwhelmed. He looks at Yata from the high place and says chillingly.

"If you try to fight me, expect no mercy."

"Damn!"

Yata kicked the ground and ran. From the skeleton wheels that skim the surface of the street, flames erupt like a raging wave.

Kuro extends his right hand and extends his invisible hand towards Yata.

However, Yata may have learned from the fact that he was caught in the hand of a different talent down the alley. He deftly steers his skateboard to avoid Kuro's extraordinary hand and heads towards him.

Then, Kuro switched his target from Yata himself to around Yata. He concentrates his consciousness, increases the pressure of the power of different abilities, and pinches the surface of the street behind Yata with invisible hands.

Kuro's invisible hands squeeze the asphalt, car stop barriers, and even street lights, bend to pieces, and attack Yata from behind.

"Damn!"

Yata appeared to be swallowed up by the debris. However, he ditched his skateboard and jumped out of the dust onto the sheer rocks attacking him.

Yata, who jumped high using the wind pressure from the steep rocks, jumped to the spot where he was standing in the street light and swung his bat with a joyous voice.

Kuro escaped through the air passing him. The metal bat that cuts through the sky makes a loud metallic noise and hits the streetlight.

In midair, Kuro jumped a step higher, using Yata's face as a springboard, and reached with his invisible hand at the sign on the rooftop of the building that he noticed. Kuro, who was a bit sensitive to the word "sister", feels free to tear off the sign that appears to be an advertisement for a book titled "My Sisters Struggle" and drop it on Yata.

A powerful member of the clan. It won't do much damage, but if he's going to stall, Kuro drops Yata under the sign and jumps onto the rooftop of the building where the boy was.

Kuro has no reason to compete with the red clan member. All Kuro has to do is find the evil "King" before them and kill him for that "reason" before it turns into a great battle.

The boy was no longer on the roof where he had been screaming.

Kuro takes out a small emblem from his pocket, which he cut from the boy's neck when he swung his sword. Kuro tightly gripped the emblem, which is the emblem of Ashinaka High School.

"I will not let you escape."

++++++++++

Get home safely.

The boy arrives at Gakuenjima's bedroom, which is his current home, and walks over to the bed in his beloved room to lie down.

"Oh... I'm tired..."

He literally thought he was going to die.

He was glad that Kuro was a silly, serious and good person. His sick sister's lie that he thought had happened once, and among the fireworks he had, there was a flash ball for the production of events (there was a mysterious sales season called "One Step Before Military Supplies!") , and the fact that the costume was left on the ceiling saved the boy's life.

He dazzled with a flash ball and quickly donned the costume, escaping from Kuro who thought the boy had run away. Fortunately, he got away with the costume because it belonged to a popular dog character often seen walking around town on campaign. After all, it was right after a flashy video of a person with the boy's face killing a person. He was grateful that he could move around without being seen by people.

Along the way, he escaped while disturbing the people who were looking for the boy and the people who set fire, and he managed to return to Gakuenjima. He was unable to fulfill his mission because he had used the fireworks that Kukuri had asked him to bring. He will have to apologize to Kukuri tomorrow.

Following the boy who was weak and lying on the bed, the kitten who overcame a difficult adventure jumped to the headboard and meowed cutely.

"What was that, who are those people?"

The boy closed his eyes with a soft duvet. When he lowered his eyelids, he did not have time to desperately reflect during the trip, the image of a person who looks like him with a gun comes to mind.

"Was the person in that video... really me?"

Do not understand. It must have been a mediocre day. The days of floating fluffy while watching his friends' smiles without having to think about anything are about to be reversed.

"Somehow, it seems to be troublesome..."

"Hmm. I've been doing it quietly until now."

The boy's eyes suddenly opened when there was a close response to the boy's soliloquy. There was white skin there.

A member lying in a gentle curve. Rounded butt, narrow waist, flat chest and gently reshaped over sheets, smooth shoulders. There was no fabric to cover them, just long hair that flowed along her body.

A girl.

Naked

A naked girl.

At the same time as the recognition, blood pooled on the boy's cheeks.

"Waaaaaah?"

The biggest scream that came out today.

Whether he's about to get hit by a flaming metal bat, a flying fireball, a sudden aerial walk, or a sword that's about to cut his through, his voice so far hadn't come out.

"Who you are?"

The girl woke up with a mysterious look as she jumped back and saw the boy with his back pressed against the wall.

A pretty girl of fifteen or sixteen. She has strange, large, almond-shaped eyes, with different colors on the left and right like a cat. One blue eye and one gold eye lined by long gleaming eyebrows.

The girl from the deep looked down at her body and made a slight "Ah." look, but soon turned to the boy with a smile in full bloom.

He doesn’t know why a beautiful naked and unknown girl can give such a pretty smile.

She said happily.

"I am Neko!"

++++++++++

Ashinaka High School. Known as Gakuenjima.

The evil "King" wore the emblem of this school, which is the entire school island in Tokyo Bay.

It's ok to cross the bridge to the Gakuenjima entrance, but it seems that you can only enter the school grounds through the automatic gate at the entrance. Outsiders were told that they would not be able to enter without a guest pass issued by student association staff or officials.

It seems that if you have a matter, you have to go to the window for the visitors, but even if you make a statement in the window, it will be difficult for Kuro to get a guest pass issued.

When Kuro tried to direct his skill towards the door, he was greeted with a bright and gentle voice.

"Ah, what do you need?"

When he turned around, a girl who seemed to be a student from this school was smiling. She has shoulder-length brown hair and side ornaments.

"Kukuri, what happened? Do you know him?"

"No, but he seems to be in trouble."

A girl named Kukuri shakes her head, surprised by a schoolgirl who appears to be a friend. He was impressed by the kindness with which she called, probably because he was carrying some suitcases.

"I'm looking for a man named Isana. Do you have any ideas?"

"Isana...? Oh, Shiro-kun, I'm a classmate."

The girl answered so easily. In such a large school, Kuro leans towards the luck of suddenly meeting that man's classmate.

"Where is he currently?"

“Where… I think he went shopping. Oh, but I think it's about time he came back. Oh, would you like me to guide you to the student dormitories?"

The girl took out a PDA from her pocket and gave Kuro a guest pass. Being able to issue a guest pass probably means that she is a student association officer. At the same time that he is lucky, he thinks of the abominable idiot and the face of the evil "King", saying that Heaven is not on the side of the bad guys.

The girl smiled when she sent him guest pass to Kuro's PDA.

"Yes, this is fine. Follow me! I'll show you the men's dorm."

Kuro bowed deeply to the girl.

"Sorry. Thank you for your cooperation."

"It is an exaggeration. It is a matter of course."

"My master said" There are few people who can do what is natural." I will never forget what you did for me."

The girl laughed shyly.

"Hahaha, you are an interesting person. What kind of relationship do you have with Shiro?"

Kuro tightened his expression and put his hand on the sword at his waist.

"I have something to give him."

"What? Lost property?"

"It is a guide."

The girl bowed her head.

++++++++++

The boy stuck to the wall and was frozen in front of a naked girl who affirmed "I am Neko."

Who is this girl? When she appeared? Why is she naked?

Despite being confused, the boy decided to do something about the third question, so the boy took the coat from the chair and offered it to a naked girl claiming to be a cat.

"And for the moment..."

"No!"

Neko turned around and jumped on the desk to escape. She is terribly light. Really like a cat. But it shouldn't be naked and squatting. It seemed like he could see many things that he shouldn't be able to see, so the boy was sweating coldly and tried to force her to put on his coat.

"Girls shouldn't stay like this!"

"The clothes are annoying, so I don't like them!"

He felt as if he heard a bell ring.

The boy is relieved. Neko who was supposed to be wearing a coat disappeared in an instant. When the boy was confused by the girl who suddenly disappeared, just like when she appeared,

"Do you want to play? Well, it looks like fun!"

A screaming voice came from above. When he looked up, Neko lay down on the furniture and looked at the boy who was wondering when she had moved. The bare chest is crushed by the corners of her face.

When he didn't know what to do... he heard a voice calling him from outside the window.

"Oh, Shiro-kun! I brought a friend!"

It's Kukuri's voice. The word "friend" made him uncomfortable, and the boy rushed to look down from the window.

"How is your sister, Isana Yashiro?"

Next to Kukuri, there was a sword god, Kuro, who ironically raised the edge of his mouth.

The boy attracted a lot of attention.

It is bad. There is only a feeling of having been killed.

Kuro turned his palm towards the window where the boy was. The boy suddenly noticed that mysterious technique and retired to the room. Kuro grabbed the window frame from the boy's room with a mysterious power that seems to be capable of grabbing a distant object and jumped into the room immediately.

The boy somehow thought of engulfing him in smoke again, but this time Kuro didn't even give him a grace. As soon as he lands in the room...

The chill ran, and the boy moved according to his instincts, rolling on the ground and avoiding the sword by a short hair.

Crisp and light, Kuro's sword sits right next to the boy's face.

Really dead. The boy struggled to his feet and tried to escape. The naked sword pursues the boy.

"No!"

It was the girl's nudity that protected the boy from the sword.

The mysterious girl who calls herself Neko seems to have no shame to be naked, and stands in front of Kuro with her arms outstretched.

Suddenly, he froze before the bare wall. The face is tinted bright red.

"Hmm... embarrassing!"

Neko grabbed the boy's hand as Kuro involuntarily walked away. She pulls him hard by the hand.

The boy jumped out of the room and ran down the hall to the bedroom, being dragged by Neko.

Thanks to her nakedness he was saved. However, she is still naked and running in public places is bad.

The boy puts the coat he was holding on Neko.

"This! Put this on!"

Neko, whose head was covered with the boy's coat, was fluffy and small. At the same time, the sound of the bell resounds again.

Immediately, Neko's back running in front of him moved away. The boy staggers at the feeling of confusion. Out of nowhere, Neko suddenly sped up. The corridor has grown.

The corridor, which is not very long, suddenly becomes long enough to run 100 meters in a straight line, and naked Neko turns her back on him and walks away.

"Eh, what?"

The boy is confused and involuntarily stops and looks back. Then this time, the hallway behind the boy got much longer. The entrance to their room, which he had been in before, can be seen in the back, and Kuro who came out of the room to chase them looks like a bean.

Without knowing why, the boy worked again. Follow Neko's back tightly. Beyond the boy's line of sight, he gently jumped out the window. He hopped onto the external emergency stairs of the next building, jumped over the railing, and climbed out onto the next rooftop.

When he thought she really was like a cat, the long corridor suddenly shrunk and the boy was about to crash into the window.

"Wow, is that back? Is that girl's doing...?"

There is no doubt that the naked girl who calls himself Neko has a mysterious power. Maybe the hallway wasn't really stretched out, only the boy assumed it was. But now it is not the case when he is thinking deeply about it. After all, Kuro is chasing the boy from behind, and Neko who just snagged the boy's jacket on her head is trying to run outside, generously exposing her naked body.

The boy imitated Neko and went out the window, more dangerous than for Neko, he followed the bundle out of the window to the emergency stairs of the adjoining building, over the shackles and railings, sliding and clinging to the rain gutter.

The boy turned around, finally reaching for Neko's back who had already descended and was running down the street. Kuro was standing on the rooftop of the building next to the bedroom. Looking down at the boy, he can see his right hand pointing towards him.

It is bad. That mysterious hand will grab him again.

He can't think of a way to escape from that hand, ignoring the distance, the boy stiffened.

Neko who was running ahead looked at Kuro. Neko's eyes, strange eyes with vertically long pupils capture Kuro's appearance.

Hear a bell again.

Then, a small twister erupted on the rooftop where Kuro was. From the center of the twister, a huge bipedal ghost cat appears. A giant monster with a body reminiscent of a professional wrestler looked at Kuro with crescent-shaped eyes and laughed through exposed teeth.

"What is that?"

When the boy took his eyes off her, the cat was furry and naked.

"Strong!"

"That seems strong, but that's not the case... what the hell are you?"

"Wagahai is a cat."

"I heard... a cat..."

Neko smiled a big smile.

"It's a cat that has been with Shiro the whole time!"

Inside the boy, the girl in front of him and that kitten that was friends with the boy overlapped.

Certainly this naked girl appeared in the wrong place with the kitten sleeping next to him. Does that mean this girl is in the shape of a cat? No, the opposite? This girl transformed into that kitten. Rather, if she had the ability to display illusions, it would mean that she had an illusion that made her look like a kitten.

In other words, the boy intended to spend time with the kitten and was actually stroking and hugging a naked girl.

When the boy recalled the dizziness, it seemed like Kuro on the rooftop had already countered the giant monster.

Neko is unmoved by the fact that the giant monster cat has been defeated, and starts running again with a smile and a guard from Kuro. The boy also hurriedly followed her.

While chasing Neko, he noticed that she seemed to be invisible to other humans. It is an incident, a naked girl running around the campus during the day, but no one seems to make a noise even if they run among the students who are busy preparing for the school festival.

Neko running like the wind, with the boy's jacket over her shoulder without closing the front, crashed into a student who was walking with a basket full of oranges. He thinks she plans to make a maid cafe at the school festival. The schoolgirl dressed as a maid looked surprised and dropped the orange she was holding, the boy stopped his leg chasing Neko and stopped, helping her to pick up the orange.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes... there was something invisible..."

Looking at the student who gets confused and says "What...?" Without confidence, he is convinced that Neko is no longer visible except to him and Kuro.

Is it possible to not only show illusions but also make herself invisible? What is this super power that affects a person's cognitive ability?

While he was picking up the oranges and thinking about it, Kuro's footsteps were approaching from behind.

Kuro, who is running with his black hair tied back, is about to turn his palm towards the boy.

Before the boy answered, the bell rang again. Immediately after that, the phase of the place where Kuro is located changed.

Like a deception image, only the path where Kuro was floating in the air, and the place where the path was supposed to be was a wall.

On the crushed stone pavement that turned into an aerial tower, Kuro is standing looking at the boy who has collapsed. If Neko's power is the power to alter perception, there may be a way to step forward, even if it seems like he's gone. But humans can't easily ignore visual information.

The boy looked at the student in front of him, but she didn't seem to notice anything unusual. This illusion seems to work only for Kuro and the boy.

After picking up the orange from the student, the boy raised his hand slightly, greeted her and started running.

The escape and the chase in a world that seemed to lose itself in an image of deception continued for a long time. The boy was chased by Kuro and he is not sure why he is running because he accepted Neko.

It seems that the girl's appearance is not visible to other people, so why not leave her completely naked? Remember that it was not a problem, and that the main purpose he had now was not to dress Neko, but to escape the pursuer Kuro who was trying to kill him.

It was supposed to be a crisis situation, but the reason why he jumped in thought was because Neko who was fleeing to the front seemed to be having fun. Neko was laughing so hard it seemed impossible to think it was a life-threatening escape drama.

"Think, Isana Yashiro! The play is over!"

It's okay to chase after Neko and jump to the back of the school building, but he hit a dead end. Kuro approaches from behind.

Furthermore, the sound of the bell echoed.

"Nya nya nya!"

From the ground between the shrine and Kuro, a huge wall with the face of a ghost cat grows skyward as it screams.

"Anyway, this wall is also an illusion!"

From the other side of the wall, he hears the brave voice of Kuro, who inspires him. Humans can't ignore visual information that easily, but it seems that Kuro decided to believe his rational judgment rather than crazy perception.

Neko lightly tugged on the boy's elbow, who was staring at the wall, involuntarily. He can move a few steps sideways.

In the next moment, the painted wall of the ghost cat's face was scattered like petals from Kuro's assault.

The scene where the illusion was shattered was quite beautiful, and he decided that the illusion wall was an illusion and collided with it, and broken Kuro was echoing.

However, he smashed through the ghost wall, smashed through the place where the boy was standing, and hit the actual wall beyond his face.

It was quite a surreal scene because the look that broke the illusion was great.

"Nyahahahahahaha!"

Neko laughs out loud when she sees Kuro, whose face is buried in the wall.

With awkward and awkward movements, he hit a wall and turned his flushed face away, and Kuro looked towards Neko and the boy.

The voltage of his anger is only increasing, the boy sweats coldly.

However, when Neko saw Kuro, she really enjoyed with her big eyes. It was like a cat playing with prey.

Kuro looks at Neko and turns around. Neko stands happy, trying to protect the boy behind. The original purpose was lost in its pursuit.

Then the sun set, the night passed, and the sun rose again.

Humans, if they're too hungry, their heads won't work.

The boy is accused of murder, he is about to be cut by a guy with a sword, a naked girl shows illusions, and loses the power to think deeply about them. He just remembered the relief that Neko, who was running naked, put on his jacket properly because it was so cold in the middle of the night.

Now the three of them aren't even sure what purpose they were pursuing, and are kneeling in the boy's room, which is the beginning, to get rid of his harsh breath. The fatigue and hunger from not having eaten since last night seems overwhelming.

In the hallway of the student dormitory, the peaceful buzz of boys and girls trying to go to school in uniform resounded, like "Good morning." and "Did you do your homework?"

Kuro was also tired of being thrown during the night. Still, he has not lost sight of his purpose, and when he stands weakly to his feet, he reaches for the sword at his waist.

"Bad "King"... Isana Yashiro... By order of the dead "King"... You..."

However, since he has escaped many times, he is very weak. Also, there is swirling graffiti on the raised Kuro's left cheek, with "stupid" on the right cheek and "meat" on the forehead. It was written by Neko while being carried away by illusion. However, while chasing him, she got used to it, so she didn't laugh anymore.

Looking at Kuro, who was trying his best to draw his sword, the boy was confused on what to do, with a feeling that was different from the already imminent sense of crisis and was mixed with a slight sense of humor.

At that moment, a sad sound and signal was heard. It's Neko's belly.

"Shiro, I'm hungry… Ah~"

At what was said, the boy's belly screamed and responded.

"At the moment... aside from the accumulated stories, why don't we eat?"

At the boy's suggestion, Kuro frowned, "What...?", But his belly obediently complained of hunger.

The boy was flirting and standing up to him.

"Thanks for your support."

It's okay to put the problem aside for the moment and eat, but the boy had no other household skills than cooking rice.

It seems that Neko loves to eat too, but she can't seem to cook like a natural thing, and when they stood in the kitchen and talked about how they could make something that they could eat, it seemed like they couldn't make it. He stood up.

When he sees a briefcase that appeared to be stuffed with guns on the table, does he want to kill before meals? Although it was loud, when he opened it, there were some kitchen gadgets like his own kitchen knife and condiments that he thought were professional.

What kind of person is this guy, a chef who thinks he is a samurai? The boy is confused and watches Kuro's tendency.

Kuro first looked inside the refrigerator and looked at him.

The contents of the refrigerator in the room of the boy who does not cook is deficient. There are some ingredients that can barely be made with miso soup, but there is nothing that can be a side.

"Shall we go shopping? Because there is something like a supermarket on campus."

"I want to eat fish!"

Kuro looked at the boy and Neko with a hard look, and fell silent with a thoughtful look for a moment. Finally, he turns to Neko instead of the boy.

"Do you want to eat fish?"

"Yes!"

"Then buy three horse mackerel. The skin is crispy and the inside is smooth and juicy."

"Nyaa!"

Neko happily makes her eyes shine.

"If you put some soy sauce on the freshly baked horse mackerel, it tastes great. Because it's simple, it tastes universal and happy."

Horse mackerel, Neko sniffed at the drool.

"Then let's buy eggs. Do you like rolled eggs?"

"Dashimaki?"

"It is a dish that is made by mixing many sardines with broth and eggs, and rolling it while baking. It is a soft and smooth food with a spongy dashi aroma. When you put it in your mouth with grated radish, the flavor is accentuated and returns to be delicious."

Neko's drool could no longer be held and hung from the edge of her mouth. Kuro looked into Neko's eyes and said.

"You want to eat?"

"I want to eat!"

"Well. Then go buy it. Write down any other necessary items in a note. Well, your most important role is definitely bringing Isana Yashiro back to this room. If you run away, you won't be able to eat the delicious food I just mentioned. Do you understand?"

"Okay! Wagahai will eat delicious fish and dashimaki with Shiro!"

It seems like he intends to catch Neko with her appetite and make sure the boy doesn't run away.

In the chase during the night, Kuro seemed to have grasped Neko's characteristics to some extent. The endurance game that lasted over a dozen hours, gave birth to a kind of strange bond between the three of them. There is no trust in her, but he can somehow understand the points that he can trust.

He won't run away anymore... He's so hungry that he doesn't know where to run since he found his home, so he only wants to talk quietly once.

The boy laughed bitterly and watched the exchange between Kuro and Neko.

Steam comes out of the rice cooker and there is a slightly sweet aroma that can cook boy's favorite rice.

But that is not all today. The fragrant smell of burning fish mixed there, playing an indescribable harmony.

Wearing a pink apron, Kuro rhythmically cuts the onions. The boy gazed admiringly at the onions, which quickly and accurately became increasingly thin.

Tofu miso soup is made on the stovetop next to the fish, which has a small, crackling, explosive skin and is exquisitely browned.

After chopping the onions, Kuro takes it upon himself to bake rolled eggs with one fluent hand.

The egg, which was stirred well in a bowl and mixed with the broth, soy sauce, mirin, etc., was rubbed with a strainer, and the liquid egg was poured into a heated, oiled pan. The egg makes noise and hardens in good condition. Kuro started to roll it into a half mature state with beautiful movements.

"Oh~"

The boy and Neko involuntarily give a voice of admiration. The belly of the two screamed again.

When the eggs in the skillet are tightly rolled, the remaining egg liquid is also poured out and rolled further. In the blink of an eye, a beautiful rolled egg was completed and Kuro put out the fire.

At the same time, the sound of cooking rice resounds, and the fish appears to be baked and the grill rises.

It was a wonderful skill to finish everything at the same time.

The boy and Neko make their eyes shine on the table. It's simple, but that's why it stimulates an empty stomach.

He didn't have all the china in the boy's living room, so he bought it when he was shopping for ingredients.

While shopping, he offered to buy a bowl for Neko and was delighted with her large eyes glowing brightly. Along with Neko, who carefully selects her favorite tea bowl, the boy also chose tableware for Kuro. He doesn't eat as often in the boy's room, but he can't bear to let him eat white rice from a flat plate or drink miso soup from a cup.

Kuro opens the rice cooker. The white steam that smelled of freshly cooked rice rose, and Neko happily offered her a new bowl of tea of her choice. He's staring into her glowing eyes as another rice is spilled.

A boy dressed in a killer robe, a guy trying to cut it, and a mysterious girl who suddenly appeared and was believed to be a normal kitten until yesterday, like a united family, clasped their hands around the warm rice.

"Itadakimasu!"

When he sipped the miso soup, the moderate salty taste and aroma of the soup spread through his mouth. The ingredients are simple, tofu and fried, but the boy thought it was the first time he had had such a delicious miso soup.

"It's delicious! It's really delicious!"

The boy lifts the cheeks with red tide. Kuro didn't look careless, but he snorted with a casual expression.

Neko also hurries, squeezes the muff and rice, and enjoys the fish. However, she didn't seem to be very good at using chopsticks and she spilled grains of rice in a conspicuous way.

When he saw how Neko was eating, he looked up and pulled the voice recorder from his chest.

"Rice is important, chew it well."

A man's deep voice rang out from the voice recorder. It was a good voice that was smart but also had a mysterious feel to it, but the boy twisted his head at a strange word like haiku, slogan, etc.

"That's…"

Kuro's eyes said, "Do you want to listen?" He turned to the boy as his eyes twinkled. Seeing his glowing eyes, he said that he was talking about a mysterious tape recorder, the boy was sensitive to the long annoying air it created, and the sign that a story was likely to unfold that the boy didn't care, and he quickly turned his important attention to the rice.

As he cut the fluffy rolled egg into bite-size pieces with his chopsticks, cut out the story of the person that is important to the guy.

"By the way, I want to ask you now."

When the boy changed, Kuro also turned to the boy, erasing the childish expression he wanted to show off when he played the tape recorder.

"In the first place, who are those men who chased me?"

They were people who manipulated supernatural powers, such as attacking with a metal bat that spewed flames and shooting fireballs with cigarettes. Both Kuro and Neko have a mysterious power, so the boy feels lost if he is the only common person.

"A member of their clan was killed. They are seeking revenge."

"Clan member? Are they a runaway tribe or a mafia or something?"

"Clan is a group that follows the 'King', and Clansman is a member of it. The 'Red King' Suoh Mikoto is the 'King' of the third clan, and the most temperamental man among the 'Kings'."

Clan, clan member, "King", "Red King".

The boy freezes slightly, writing down the words that appear in his head.

"In short, the head of the supernatural powers? Is there some other group like that? Do you mistake me for the criminal who killed that member?"

"I am not mistaken; you are the criminal himself. When I finish eating this, I will crush you properly."

The boy was told with a very serious look and a tone that declared that he would take care of the domestic matters he had to do.

"Yes..." He withdrew.

Although he is eating rice with him, he seems willing to carry out the execution after the meal. There are simple parts that are easy to use in Kuro and stubborn parts that are unlikely to bend smoothly, and it seems easy to understand and difficult to read.

"Fill it up!"

Neko, who was happily eating, happily handed the empty tea bowl to Kuro. Kuro receives his bowl and tries to serve rice naturally as if he is doing it every day.

"Oh, yeah, me too!"

They have an especially delicious side dish today, and the boy's favorite white rice is on the rise. Kuro silently stared for a few seconds at the boy who took advantage of Neko and pushed the tea bowl away.

"Well, this is probably the last white rice of my life."

With a light sigh, Kuro also received the boy's tea bowl.

He doesn't want this to be the last meal, but the white rice he eats with the garnish that Kuro made is really delicious, so the boy chews the stuffed rice he got and puts a juicy fish on it.

"I know why they are after me, but why are you trying to kill me in the first place? You are not a partner of those people, right?"

It seemed like a lonely little shadow had fallen over his eyes.

"Because I am a vassal of the Seventh King, the former 'Colorless King'."

"Colorless?"

"It means it has no color. My deceased master ordered me to carefully identify the next 'King' and if he is bad, I will not hesitate to eliminate him. He had the power to predict the future."

He must have longed for the dead master. When talking about that person called Miwa Ichigen, Kuro has a scathing tone.

"The power of prophecy... "Colorless King"... What is that "King" you mentioned earlier?"

"He has great power and embodies the reason of this world. The power of the 'King' is moving this country. It is something that ordinary human beings do not know."

It's a tremendous story and the boy makes his eyes go round

"I was wondering if the Prime Minister was the greatest in this country..."

The current prime minister, Samukawa Kanichi, is not very popular but he is not very obnoxious and he is a person who still maintains a medium approval rating. There is no atmosphere like that of a king, but in this country where there should be no royal system, Prime Minister Kanichi should have the decision-making power to move the country first.

"Now, the politics and economy of this country cannot be established without the power of one man. Japan, which became a defeated country and was eaten by the surrounding countries, could now become the greatest economic and technological power of the world because of the appearance of that man in this country."

"Who is that man?"

"He is called the 'Golden King'. His power is secretly everywhere, for example..."

Kuro poured the soy sauce into the chabudai and took the PDA out of his pocket.

"Both were created by a company controlled by the 'Golden King'."

Soy sauce, PDA, gender and manufacturer are different, but both are famous brands that are spread all over the world.

“The head of those people with fire powers, you said he is the 'Red King', right? Is there red and gold?"

"There are seven kings."

"Seven people?"

Kuro took out various condiments from the briefcase containing a set of kitchen utensils and placed them on the table.

The seven seasonings with different colors on the tops can indicate seven "kings" respectively. Kuro puts his index finger on the seasoning on the red cap that contains paprika powder.

"The character of the clan is completely different depending on the 'king' who rules. For example, if you describe the Red Clan in one word, it is violence."

The boy instinctively frowned, "Uh…". He is being attacked by people who are like symbols of violence. The boy on the skateboard who attacked the boy with a metal bat without asking questions was certainly violent language.

"That is a very close-knit clan, which is united with an elegance darker than blood. Killing that member was a very stupid thing on the part of the new 'King'."

"That's why! It's definitely about someone else! I'm not a 'King' and I didn't kill anyone in the first place!"

The boy is quick to insist on the premise of something he does not remember. Kuro sipped tea silently with a nasty face.

Neko, who should be on the boy's side, seems not to be interested in the story of the two, and when she finished eating the rice, she got on the bed and started playing with the boy's umbrella.

"The 'King' is the one that moves the economy and is the boss of the mafia, right? A high school student living a mediocre life like me is not a 'King'!"

“I have said that the nature of the 'King' varies. There are several ways to do it. The fourth royal authority, the "Blue King", is the head of an institutional police organization for those who have powers, while the first royal authority has immutable power, but is shrouded in mystery. He is patrolling the sky over Tokyo in an airship without fulfilling the role of 'King'."

"Airship... Oh, I certainly could see it. That's a 'King' too, isn't it..."

There is something strangely intriguing, and the boy hugs himself around his belly on the shirt.

“Furthermore, although the existence of the fifth 'King', the 'Green King' has been confirmed, but he has not appeared on the table and appears to be planning something under the surface. It's no wonder if you're a newborn 'King', a high school student, or if you're hiding your status and power as a 'King' and killing for an evil purpose."

"Oh... what does that mean..."

“There is a mysterious relic called "Dresden Slate" that selects the "King" and grants him great power. It is said to be a huge block of stone with a mysterious power that was discovered and studied in Dresden, Germany, during World War II. After the war, the Slate was brought to Japan and is now kept in the Mihashira Tower, which is the residence of the "Golden King". I've never really seen it. The criteria for the Slate to choose the 'King' are unknown, but history shows that not only are good people chosen, and that position and age have nothing to do with it."

"Hmm...", the boy gave a warm reply.

"But I don't have any supernatural powers..."

"Is that what you are hiding? The Seventh King, the "Colorless King", is a special "King" who has different characteristics for each generation. What kind of power and what role does he play appears on the Slate. It is said to be a prankster who knows no limits, the king of clowns. So I don't know what kind of power you have, even if you're hiding it."

"No, I'm not hiding it..."

"Just what is common to successive 'Colorless Kings'."

Without hearing the boy's objections, Kuro continues.

"The 'Colorless King', good or bad, has the power to interfere with the 'King' and change the balance of power between the 'Kings'. The predecessor, Ichigen Miwa, was a kind person. He was doing his best as mediator so that there would not be a conflict between the 'Kings'. The new 'Colorless King', as 'King' has shed human blood, and I cannot forgive him for causing and causing chaos!"

In front of Kuro, who speaks enthusiastically, the boy again heaves a heavy sigh.

Perhaps Neko was tired of playing alone, she returned to the kotatsu and picked up a piece of fish that was slightly stuck to the plate with her finger and put it in her mouth.

Each plate was carefully emptied. When Kuro put his hands on the plate he had finished eating, the boy did the same.

"Thanks for the food."

When Kuro and the boy talked to each other, Neko compared them to each other, clasped his hands as if to look at them and said, "Sorry."

Kuro drinks the hot tea and stands up naturally.

"It's time to kill you."

So, Kuro said that with the same ease as if he said that he would go to a convenience store.

Neko jumps up and poses intimidatingly while yelling "Shah!" The boy was impatient and held out his hand.

"Wait, wait! Then it's funny! Let's calm down! The reason you want to kill me is because I'm the evil 'Colorless King', right? What's the evidence?"

"That video."

"It's so easy to fake! Don't you think that's funny? Why would I call myself the 'Colorless King'?"

"Evil, you reveal yourself."

"If it were so… I made a mess with those dangerous people, I'd already be running away to a safer place! Right?"

Kuro looked away with a thoughtful gaze, but it seems his determination to kill him hasn't changed yet. The boy says desperately.

"I said it many times, I'm just a mediocre high school student!"

"So who is she? Is she not your clan member?"

Kuro pointed at Neko. Neko, who was still intimidating, turned to her own topic and showed her big eyes as if she had struck the void.

"Eh? No... She is..."

The boy looks at Neko from head to toe. The beautiful long-haired girl, who wears only the boy's uniform coat and exposes her bare feet in the harsh place, does the movements that animals actually perform, as she claims to be a cat.

Apparently, it is the identity of the kitten who was friends with the boy, but that is not what he wants to hear and the boy had no words to explain what she was.

The boy asks Neko directly.

"Who are you? Or what are you?"

"Wagahai is a cat!"

Neko said it like she did at the beginning, and she was very excited.

Kuro puts his hand on his jaw as he ponders.

“A Strain… Is she here by chance? Cannot be."

"Strain?"

"A person who has her own special power without being granted by a 'King'. Some people have it."

The boy asked Neko, "Is that so?", But Neko tilted her head with a smile.

"I don't understand anything, but I'm Shiro's cat, and Shiro is mine!"

Neko declares that in a good mood and starts dancing around happily.

Kuro also thought that it was difficult to think that this innocent girl understood the story of the evil "King" or was his vassal.

The boy turned to Kuro and faced him with the greatest sincerity he had.

"Hey, Kuro Yatogami. This is probably some kind of unfair accusation. I'm going to clear up that suspicion in front of you! And I'll ask those scary people to clear up the misunderstanding. No!"

Holding his fist in front of his chest, the boy insisted.

"Your deceased master said to identify the other person and kill him if he was evil, right? Then identify me correctly, if I am good or bad!"

Kuro straightened his line of sight towards the boy and paused to think a bit. Finally, he took out of his pocket that voice recorder that played during meals and handed it to the boy.

"Press a button."

"Hey?"

"Do it."

The atmosphere cannot be maintained any longer, the boy gets confused and presses a button, "Well then..."

"Do not judge the cold, without first knowing the heat of the burning sun."

A good voice flowed with astringency, depth and sensuality.

"What is that?"

The boy was very confused, but Kuro was convinced of something.

"Don't make a quick decision. You have apparently earned a chance to live, Isana Yashiro."

Even with a smile, he was confused. He's not sure what that means, but for the first time, he's happy that Kuro's attitude has softened and the boy's expression relaxes.

"Shiro is fine. Yes, can I call you Kuro?"

"Isana Yashiro."

Kuro, who called him by his full name to cut off his offer, stretched his back and looked at the boy with a stern look.

"I will identify you as you say, and if I find out that you are evil, I will kill you immediately. Okay?"

He thinks he was stubborn, loud, but sincere. In response to Kuro's statement, the boy smiled and asked for a handshake and extended his right hand.

"Thank you, Kuro. That is enough for now."

"If you are grateful, thank Ichigen-sama for advising me."

Kuro doesn't hold his hand and walks away.

The fact that he gave up means that the voice of that recorder is the voice of "Ichigen Miwa". The boy wondered why he was really worried about the tape recorder containing Miwa's mysterious words.

"What is that voice recorder?"

At that moment, the atmosphere Kuro was wearing changed. The atmosphere becomes brighter as if a flower is blooming, and a loose smile is shown as if such a face is made, and the cheeks become red.

He seemed to be excited and began to speak rapidly while breathing.

"This is…! This is a record of the words of the late master, Ichigen-sama. The words of Ichigen-sama, who was also an avant-garde poet, were so connotative and beautiful! I was recording it. It was not enough. burn it on my soul, and I still get lost."

Out of breath, Kuro presses the switch on the recorder.

"Occasionally walk the path you have chosen, the path of your dreams."

"Miwa's words" flow from the tape recorder, and during the narration period, he listens with an elated face that appears to have been beaten. Stained like an apple, Kuro picked up the recorder and looked at the boy with a proud face.

"That's what I'm saying!"

"How awful!"

An honest impression came out of the boy's mouth.

++++++++++

Wagahai is a cat. There is no name yet.

She feels like she used to have one, but she forgets. So a cat is just a cat.

Neko is now curled up on the boy's bed in the shape of a kitten.

She chased him from last night until morning, and when she had breakfast, she made her sleepy, so the boy said, "We will sleep for the moment."

The boy is sleeping under the blanket where the cat is curled up, and on a small tatami space, Kuro is leaning against the wall, sleeping with a sword in a sitting position.

Neko doesn't like Kuro. He came to destroy the happy days with the boy.

There is no way she will like people who say terrible things like kill the boy.

However, the rice he made was so delicious that she forgives him a bit. Especially the fish with crispy skin and plump body was wonderful.

Inside the room with the curtains closed, the morning sun shines through the gap, but it is comfortable and dim.

Neko tried to fall asleep as she was, and after thinking for a moment, she moved towards him. Bring her face to the boy's face and wave by bringing the tips of their noses together.

"Good luck, Shiro."

Neko snuggled into a position where the boy's body temperature could be felt. It is not cold here. She is not alone. She liked this place where she could hear the boy breathing next to her.

Neko is from Shiro, and Shiro is from Neko.

Feeling the temperature of her favorite company, Neko closes her eyes and enters the world of dreams.

#k #k project #k the first story

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esoanem · 4 years

Text

“There’s always doubt, Billy. No sane man would deny that. No good captain would acknowledge it“

Major Content Notes:

Blood & Gore: shrapnel injuries and missing limbs caused by a ship taking a broadside head on are shown. A man is shot in the head with blood splatter but no wound shown. A man’s neck is bitten through causing arterial bleeding, the wound is shown. A slave is forced to act as a suicide bomber, he falls on the bomb causing a bloody explosion

Physical Abuse of Genitals: a woman is douched by another woman using a metal syringe. She is very rough and clearly causes significant pain

Slavery: a cargo hold full of slaves is shown. A slave is shot in the head at point-blank range (no wound or blood is shown), another is threatened, and a third is forced to act as a suicide bomber

Wikipedia Synopsis:

Flint and his crew of the Walrus play a deadly game of naval warfare when they engage Captain Bryson and the Andromache on the open sea to gain precious cargo. Meanwhile, Richard forces his daughter's hand when he makes an announcement to the locals about his assets being liquidated. This causes a mob to riot against Eleanor, who seeks help from Hornigold. Rackham makes a career change for him and Vane when they become owners of the brothel. Also, Billy questions Flint about Mrs. Barlow, and Anne confesses to Max about her past with men.

This one’s got some pretty bad stuff for blood & gore so might be worth looking away or skipping those scenes if you’re sensitive to that, the sex slavery plotline is much less bad than in the previous two episodes

Timestamps:

As ever, all timestamps are from the “Complete Collection” DVDs which includes a Starz logo at the start, as well as a recap. Depending on your source, timestamps may vary a little, which is why I’ve included the timestamp for the opening titles. Timestamps are only given for the start and end of scenes featuring any particularly warning-worthy content

00:57: opening credits

21:22-23:40: Mrs Mapleton is taken to Max to douche her with a metal syringe to stop her getting pregnant. She is overly rough. Anne takes over and is more gentle. She tells Max she didn’t mean for this to happen when she handed her over to the crew, she only thought they’d kill her

31:56-37:31: The Walrus closes on the Andromache and is hit by her broadside. Shrapnel injuries and missing limbs are shown. Beauclerc shoots the helmsman, and the Andromache is forced to come alongside to be boarded. As they come alongside, a man is shot through the head. In the boarding action we see people shot and stabbed. Dufresne is forced to bite a man’s neck and blood flows out in an arterial spurt before Dufresne passes out

43:23-45:31: Bryson goes into the hold where the slaves are kept. Mr Scott is chained up there. Bryson tells Scott to assist the ship in leaving and he can return to Nassau. He shoots one of the slaves, and goes to threaten another. When the slave behind starts pleading, that slave is unchained and taken upstairs

50:17-51:49: the slave chosen by Bryson tells Flint that the Scarborough is knows where he is and is coming. At that point the Scarborough is spotted and in the moment of distraction the slave lights a bomb. He is shot, falling on the bomb, causing a bloody explosion

Summary:

As they chase after the Andromache, which is out of sight, BIlly goes to Flint to report their speed North by Northeast at 6kts, and Flint decides to discuss his concerns about Billy’s trust

“You don’t trust me do you? With any luck, we’ll sight the Andromache soon. Battle will begin. You and I will have our roles to play. We have the chance for a few minutes honesty first”

“Honesty? Men died yesterday, careening our ship faster than was safe. Men are going to die today attacking that merchant ship out there and they’ll die not knowing it was all based on a lie”

"A lie?”

"We don’t even know if the Urca’s schedule is accurate. We’re completely relying on the cook. How can you just pretend you have no doubts about this”

"Years of practice. There’s always doubt, Billy. No sane man would deny that. No good captain would acknowledge it. Take our present route for instance, we tacked north by northeast, along the Andromache’s best point of sail. If you’re Bryson, that’s the smart course.”

"Well he knows that I know that. So wouldn’t he have at least considered heading Northwest to follow the coast? Lose us in the dark? Or due East, on the chance we might sail right past him? There must be at least one chance in three that that horizon will remain bare and we’ll never see the Andromache again. That’s the truth. But what good would that knowledge do for any man on this crew trying to focus on doing his job? This crew needs certainty. And I need their support to achieve an end that is in all our best interests. So we dance the dance. Never was there a Caesar that could not sing the tune”

"Who’s Mrs Barlow”

Flint smiles to himself. “you’ve heard the stories haven’t you? She’s a witch, who pledged my soul to the devil and anoints me with the blood of infants to keep me safe in battle “

“Come on I’m not stupid”

"No, you’re not. So you can probably guess, it isn’t as much fun to tell stories about how your captain makes a home with a nice puritan woman who shares his love of books”

As Billy asks if that’s true, the Andromache is spotted and Flint smirks, going off to command the ship

Jack walks into the brothel with Anne & Vane. The madam, Mrs Mapleton (above) is talking to a sex worker about a client who did more than she agreed to. Mrs Mapleton is dismissive, suggesting that she ought to charge by the digit. When she sees Vane et al, she tells them that Mr Noonan forbad them to come in, but Jack gives her a piece of paper purporting to be a signed deed settling their dispute over Max by agreeing to purchase the brothel

She thinks this is quite odd and asks where Mr Noonan is now and Jack says he sought passage to Port Royal

“You’re telling me that Mr Noonan, who just a few hours ago had the intent of seeing your captain beaten to a pulp, that Mr Noonan, decided instead to sell you his life’s work?”

“And you expect me to accept it based on a piece of paper and your word? And to keep my mouth shut about it, when any halfwit can see that there’s foul play around?”

She clearly sees through the bullshit, but decides to play along for a raise from 3% of the gross profits to 14%

Eleanor storms into the warehouse and, after speaking to the man Scott knocked out last night tells him to get her horse ready so she can speak to her father. When she goes to her office, she finds Silver chained to Randall, having been stashed there to "stop what’s in my head spilling onto the deck of the Andromache“. Eleanor uncuffs Randall, but cuffs Silver to the couch. He asks why she seems to harbour so much anger towards him. She says it’s because not only did he steal from Flint & his crew, he also lured Max into “his selfish scheme”

“Hold on, I specifically tried to talk her out of getting wrapped up in my selfish scheme!”

Eleanor gets called outside urgently. Her father is giving a speech to a small crowd outside the warehouse, lying, saying that Bryson had known about his arrest before landing, and had been sent to liquidate their holdings in the Bahamas

"For years we’ve all profited in this place, trading on the stability of my family’s name, but unfortunately our circumstances have changed. A fortnight ago, his majesty’s navy attempted to place me under arrest. I am, since that day, a fugitive marked for execution by the crown.

Unbeknownst to me, my family in Boston learned of this, and ordered captain Bryson to liquidate our holdings here. I convinced him to leave behind the contents of our warehouse, but that is all.

To those of you owed credit, or for whom we hold goods in consignment, I leave it to my daughter to see you made whole as best we can. But once that is settled our business with you must be considered complete.

I’m very sorry. God speed to you all”

The Walrus isn’t closing on the Andromache fast enough and won’t catch her before nightfall, at which point she’ll be able to slip away. Flint orders the topgallants (the uppermost set of sails) raised but de Groot protests that with that much canvas up the backstays (which stop the masts being pulled forwards) may not hold, and even if they do, the ship will dick in hard at the bow, possibly hard enough to “shake loose the rigging entirely”. Billy sides with Flint and the topgallants are raised. After a few rough moments slamming into the waves with the bow digging in, Flint wrestles with the helm to get the ship under control as the Walrus reaches 7.5kts - very fast for a ship of this era and the crew cheer

Richard Guthrie comes in to talk to Eleanor, who is furious. He says she “let Flint seduce you into this madness about the Spanish galleon, all in furtherance of the fantasy that you can resist English rule”

"You are a child. I am fully aware that captain Flint left in pursuit of the Andromache last night, but you should know, Captain Bryson sailed the Valesca(?) route for ten years and was never boarded, not once.

Flint will be returning either empty-handed or not at all. This treasure galleon business is over.

As for our future here, I am working on a deal that will make a safe place for us among the farmers in the interior. When the pirates are gone the landowners will drive commerce here. They will be indispensable to the lords and to Whitehall, and so we will make allies of them. We will adapt. And we will survive.”

She asks how he got Scott to cooperate, and he says “we talked like men, and he saw reason”

Eleanor goes downstairs, as Lilywhite is giving a speech to a large crowd. Hornigold and his men are keeping the crowd at bay, but he suggests she announce payments to settle debts immediately. She says she can’t pay, and he presses her, trying to work out what crews will take alternate payment, but she continues

“I’m not winding things up here. My business continues.

Captain Naft of the Intrepid & Mr Walker her quartermaster, Captain Laurence of the Black Hind & Mr Harrison, and our friend Mr Frasier, get them all here now”

Hamund (above centre), the member of Vane’s crew who has been brutalising Max comes into the brothel with the rest of the crew saying “that Guthrie cunt is done”, and wondering what they’re doing in the brothel because they’ll be able to hunt again soon. Jack says that Eleanor is likely not out for the count just yet

"To assume that we’ve seen the last of Eleanor Guthrie is, well, not to know her.

The fact that she appears to have captain Hornigold and his men propping her up only adds to my conviction. Right now we’d do well to keep our mouths shut and be thankful and be thankful we have some income from this place for the moment and bide our time”

Hamund tries to appeal to Vane, who is sitting there blowing smoke rings, but he just goes upstairs, and Hamund leaves with the rest of the crew

Jack moans to Anne about things never being simple. Smirking, she offers to make it simple (i.e. kill them)

"Darling, this is a lovely stop gap, but if we are ever to hunt as a proper crew again we will need - well - a crew. Right now those men are all we have. It is unfortunate perhaps, but no less a reality”

He then suggests Anne take Mrs Mapleton to Max to tend to her whilst Hamund is distracted

As the Andromache readies for battle, Bryson is writing a log when he is told the Walrus will be on them in four hours. He seems unconcerned, his only order being to pack the china plate in their hold with extra straw, so that it might arrive in Boston unharmed

Billy is below decks with Logan (above right), the armourer, going over their stock of weapons. Unfortunately, because they emptied the arsenal before careening, they only have short stocks left as it was all that could be managed before setting sail. Billy says to take it all up top and not hold any in reserve. Either they take Bryson’s ship or they’re “fucked” (Logan supplying the last word). Even Dufresne is given a pistol, and he’s taken aback

Max’s chain is chafing as Anne & Mrs Mapleton come in. Mrs Mapleton starts douching Max to stop her getting pregnant using a metal syringe. She is uncaring about the pain she causes. Anne sees this and tells Mrs Mapleton to leave, before lubing up the syringe, and continuing much more gently. Anne tries to ask why Max didn’t leave when Eleanor beat Hamund off her, and then suggests that Max ought to stand up to the men

“Once one of them came and put his balls on my shoulder whilst I was asleep. Thought it was funny. Last time he put them anywhere. If you take it, they’ll give it”

"Why do you say these things? You were the one who threw me to them in the first place”

“I only thought they’d kill you”

She looks ashamed and leaves

In Eleanor’s office Silver suggests she’s sticking her head in the sand about the situation, commenting that when a mob turns, the ones that gave rise to it are usually the most surprised. Hamund arrives downstairs and Eleanor goes down, coldly holding his gaze. He insinuates that she’s now getting exactly what she did to them and asks how that feels, before saying he’ll go back to Max on the beach

Billy explains the battleplan aboard the Walrus using two brushes for the Andromache (left) and the Walrus (right)

"As we close the distance to the Andromache, the captain believes Bryson will tack port and set himself for a clean broadside volley. He’ll loose his guns, pay off downwind and continue running. Now ordinarily, we would either match him, and return fire, or slip into his wake and make a run at his stern. Unfortunately, we’re too outgunned for the former, and Bryson is too skilled a captain for the latter. He’ll just keep shooting and delaying, shooting and delaying until nightfall, at which point he’ll just slip away.”

Logan asks how the hell they’re going to board her if they can’t shoot at her and can’t get close to her, as the crew nods. Billy says they go straight at her (this headlong rush into the enemy’s broadside is similar to what Nelson would later do on a much larger scale at Trafalgar)

De Groot then says they’ll be sitting ducks for the Andromache’s guns, being raked bow to stern and Logan adds “we’d be boarding bow to midship. For all you virgins in the room, that’s also known as fucking suicide”. Billy says that “of course we’d need to board alongside her. We just need captain Bryson to accommodate, and bring the Andromache about for us to do so”

Billy tells the crew that “Mr Beauclerc is going to convince him”. We see Beauclerc (below centre) whittling in the corner and, as the crew turn to look at him, they seem to accept this

Dufresne tries to talk his way out of being involved in the boarding action, showing Billy the ledger saying he saved the crew a huge amount being good at accounts, and asks if any other man can say they’ve earned as much. Billy says that every man on the crew had a first time, and Dufresne is overdue, despite never having shot a pistol which he’s told is alright, because half the time they don’t even fire

Vane is watching Lilywhite rant when Idelle enters saying she was sent by Jack to tend to Vane’s wounds. She says he should pleased that Eleanor’s finished after what she did

“You hate her. I hate her. They all hate her. Look what good it’s done us.

No captain on this island’s ever known that kind of power. Power that doesn’t care how many votes you can tally, who loves you, who hates you, who fears you. Power that just is.

Truth is, none of us have any right to hate her for it. She’s strong, and we’re weak.

That’s the reality of things here, and no-one down here’s strong enough to change anything”

As he traces the scar on his chest she asks if he isn’t strong enough, and he says he thinks it’s time he found out

The crew of the Walrus are hunkered down to be ready to board, as Dufresne tries to conjure up possibilities where the fight won’t happen, saying he doesn’t think he can do this. Billy tells him an encouraging lie

"Yes you can. Listen, Listen to me! You will make it through this! No-one eats it their first time over the side. I’m telling you, it’s never happened. Not on this crew. Don’t ask me why, it just is.”

"Men die all the time, it can’t be true”

"Not first-timers. Name one. You’re gonna be alright”

Bryson gives the order to fire and we see the result on the Walrus, with men with shrapnel in their faces, and limbs blown off. Beauclerc is in the crow’s nest with several longbarreled muskets (presumably early rifles). He picks up the first, aiming for the Andromache’s helmsman, but a wave rocks the Andromache away obscuring him

The Andromache fires a second volley, and Beauclerc shoots, narrowly missing the helm, and getting spotted. Beauclerc grabs his second musket & Bryson orders the helm to stay where he is and to bear away before they lose the wind. This time Beauclerc hits the helmsman and the wheel spins free, with the Andromache turning to windward, as the Walrus need. Another man takes the helm and the rest of this volley from the Andromache misses. Beauclerc shoots the new helmsman and, as the wheel spins again, they lose their wind and Bryson is forced to give the order to prepare to repel boarders

As the Walrus comes alongside, Dufresne puts his glasses in a pocket. One of the crew is shot clean through the head. Blood splatter, but no wound is shown. We follow Dufresne with subjective shots seeing men get shot and stabbed as they board the Andromache. Dufresne tries to shoot a merchant, but his pistol misfires, the merchant then tries to shoot Dufresne, but his pistol misfires too. They grapple for a while, and Dufresne bites his neck, and blood spurts out. Dufresne falls back and passes out. Later, after the deck is cleared, Billy finds him, covered in the other man’s blood and helps him up

Eleanor has gathered Captain Naft of the Intrepid (above left, in yellow), Captain Laurence of the Black Hind (above left, with the bottle), their quartermasters (right), Mr Frasier (above left, behind the captains) and Hornigold. She tells them that she means to establish a consortium, with them as the heads. Mr Frasier has a charter from the Massachusetts Bay Provincial Authority that could be used to pass customs houses, and the Black Hind and Intrepid are the largest ships on the island, and least profitable. Captain Laurence is insulted

"My men aren’t merchant sailors, they’re hunters”

"Yes, but they’re bad at it Jeffrey. What good is that doing anyone?”

"I put this to them they’ll vote me out before I stop to take a breath”

"I’m amazed they haven’t voted you out already given the shit prizes you’ve been chasing. Your men will earn three times as much in half the time, not facing a single sword or pistol in the process. You’re telling me that you can’t sell that?”

Laurence remains unconvinced, asking Hornigold if he supports it. He says he will, if she lifts the ban on Charles Vane, saying the mob outside thinks of her as a tyrant, with this as one of her most egregious acts

"Charles Vane is an animal! As are the men that remain with him”

"Because they saw fit to punish a thieving whore?”

"And I am not about to say otherwise for the benefit of captain Lilywhite or any of the other idiots out there listening to him”

"I’m listening to him - your commitment to this place is admirable, but you’re young, and you’re rash. Show everyone your motive here is for the common good. Show them that you can be trusted to keep petty animosity separate from business. Rescind the ban on captain Vane and show me that. Do it and I’ll back you as your father’s successor here. The boss behind all trade. Until then I’m sorry, I can’t help you”

"I won’t do it”

"You have until dark to come to your senses. At that point I will withdraw my men and the business of the street becomes your business alone”

The crew of the Walrus have taken the deck, but the Andromache’s crew are stashed below, and the pirates are hacking ways into the lower decks with axes. Gates has checked the dead and injured and Bryson is still alive. The crew get into the quarterdeck bunker to find just three men inside, puzzling Billy. Meanwhile the three pirates of the vanguard are on their way to clear the cargo hold

De Groot tells Flint the rudder isn’t responding, so the mechanism must have been cut belowdecks. Flint orders the vanguard recalled, as we see them cut down by a volley of musketfire ringing out from a second bunker on the lower gun deck as Bryson’s second in command suggests it is time to send terms

Bryson goes downstairs into the hold and looks contemptuously at the cargo of slaves. He stops at Mr Scott who is chained up there with them. He tells him that if he assists in getting the Andromache away he can return to Nassau, but that he should have known there would be consequences for siding with Eleanor against Richard. He has one slave shot in the head, and goes to threaten another. A third slave starts pleading and this slave is then unchained, and led upstairs

Eleanor returns to her office and Silver urges her to accept Hornigold’s terms, asking what she cares. She feels guilty for Max’s suffering. He points out that Max had the opportunity to walk away, but she says she can’t proclaim to the world that what happened to Max was acceptable and apologise to them for ever having said otherwise. As she is on the verge of tears she asks Silver to convince her to “betray Max a second time”

“Max chose. Why? I don’t know, maybe it was spite, maybe it was strength, maybe it was who the fuck knows what, but to be perfectly honest, I don’t care. Because the moment I start making choices based on her decisions I give her a hell of a lot more power over my life than I’m quite comfortable ceding to a perfect stranger. Guilt is natural. It also goes away if you let it. And losing your life’s work, that doesn’t go away”

Vane walks out of the brothel and Jack hurries after him. Vane has requested a skiff. Jack says it isn’t his business, but they may soon be able to hunt again. Van just says that there “problem isn’t in there, never was” and carries on, jumping into the skiff as Jack calls after him, referring to him as “Chaz” (apparently this was attested this early, but I cannot take it seriously because to me it sounds way too modern)

At the Walrus and Andromache Gates tells Flint Bryson is in a reinforced hold directly beneath them at the fore end of the lower gun deck, with doors and roof as thick as the outer hull, so there’s no way for them to breach it, plus they’re right in front of a powder magazine, so they can’t blow their way in or else the ship will sink fast, and there’s no way to get the guns off as it is because anyone sent down will just get shot

"It doesn’t make sense. If Bryson wants to force me to withdraw, what’s to stop me burning the ship once we leave? We’re missing something”

Dufresne is reading the papers in Bryson’s cabin as Billy enters. Dufresne said he wanted to get a headstart looking through them before saying the name “Jameson”

“You said no man ever died his first time over the side, but you forgot about Tom Jameson, Bosun’s mate, about two years back”

“Hm. That’s right. Also, Christian Toms, Will Robins, John du Bois, that Portuguese guy with the lisp, what was his name?”

“Oh that is funny. Thank you. For doing that. It helped”

Billy spots a sealed letter labelled as from Miranda Barlow to “the Honourable Justice Addington, Thomas, the Massachusetts Bay Colony” and goes to open it as he hears a shout from the deck to get away from the hatch. He pockets the letter before stepping out

The chosen slave climbs out of the hatch as pistols are drawn and pointed at him. He asks for captain Flint and then, with one of the pirates as interpreter conveys a message from Bryson

“I’m secure in the hold below, with twenty of my men, I can wait, you cannot. Before departing, I sent a message to the captain of the Scarborough, told him where I was headed, told him where he would find you”

At that moment, the Scarborough’s sails are spotted to the East. The Slave lights a bomb and runs at Flint but is shot by Billy. The Bomb explodes beneath him, sending blood everywhere

#Black Sails #black sails content notes

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myexgirlfriendisthemoon · 4 years

Text

It Feels Better Biting Down — Ch. 1: First Impressions are Lasting Impressions

Set in a modern bending AU, Roku High and Kyoshi High are rival schools in every sense. When financial troubles cause Sokka and Katara to go to separate schools, their bond and new friendships test the civil and social boundaries that lie behind school lines and familial ties. With new friends Aang, Toph, and Suki, will Sokka and Katara be able to hold their Gaang together, or will they let the fire nation clique's drama split them up for good?

“So are you sure you can get me to class on time? I mean, if I ran, I’m sure I could catch up to the bus.”

Sokka shook his head, clicking his tongue in a ‘tsk, tsk’ sound. “Katara, sister o’ mine,” he said, grabbing his keys from beside the front door. He held it open for his younger sister and locked it behind her. “Remember that one time you were sick and forgot your science project? And I-”

“-stopped for a milkshake on the way to school, spilled it on my lab report, and got it to me twenty minutes after it was due?” she retorted with a smirk, crossing her arms over her chest.

Sokka waved his hand, dismissing his sister’s comeback. “Meaningless details, really. Anyways,” he said, walking over to the driveway. “Do you want a ride or not?”

“I do,” Katara said, following behind him, “but do you honestly think your car wants to get us there in one piece today?”

Sokka gasped and put his arms over his car. The thing he called his baby was a navy hunk of metal that at some point resembled an ‘81 Honda, with scratched up rims, too many dents to count, and a few knicks in the windshield (Katara liked to play a game called “How fast can Sokka drive over speed bumps before his windshield shatters.” So far, she’s seen him take the thing a surprising 45 mph over a bump without damage. She swore it was only a matter of time though.).

He turned his head towards his sister with a pout. “Don’t talk about Tun Tun like that, Katara; it’s rude.” Sokka looked back at his car with a strange sort of fondness that Katara knew only Sokka was capable of displaying. “Don’t listen to her Tun Tun,” he cooed. “You’re beautiful just the way you are.” The meticulously taped up side view mirror slipped from it’s rearranged spot, hanging on only by a fraying electrical wire.

Katara couldn’t help the snicker that escaped her.

“See what you did?!” Sokka said, exasperated. “Now Tun Tun is upset, great.” He opened up the backseat and grabbed his spare roll of duct tape. “Absolutely fantastic,” he muttered, beginning to patch up his beloved jalopy.

Katara walked around to the passenger side, and slid in, placing her bookbag down at her feet. “Can you fix Tun Tun any faster?” she called out.

“While I do appreciate you calling her by her name,” Sokka replied, “Car maintenance on a budget is a careful art that takes time and precision.”

Katara groaned and sunk deeper into the worn fabric seat. She could already feel the embarrassment of being late on her first day. This definitely wasn’t the impression she was looking to give her new teachers, especially coming in on a partial scholarship. “Sokka, I’m going to be late.”

He placed one last piece of tape and sighed. “Alright, alright. Quit your whining. I’m finished.” He hopped in the driver’s seat and threw his tape towards the backseat. Sticking the key in the ignition, he gave Tun Tun one, two, three good cranks before she finally sputtered to life. Katara let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

Katara fiddled with the hem of her uniform, a red wrap-around blouse with ornate gold trim. Her other hand unconsciously rested on her mother’s necklace.

Sokka glanced back and forth between the road and his younger sister. It wasn’t unusual for her to lose herself in her thoughts for a moment or two, but under normal circumstances, she would probably be bickering with him over something stupid or giving him some long-winded speech about how he needs to take better care of himself and start thinking about the future or something else dumb and hope inspired and just very Katara.

But today wasn’t very normal.

He didn’t blame Katara for being a bit on edge. Hell, he was, two years ago when he was in her shoes. After Mom had died, Gran Gran and Dad had decided it would be wise for them to hone in on the Southern Water Tribe’s future, specifically Katara and Sokka. No pressure, though.

“So,” Sokka said, clearing his throat and interrupting both of their thoughts. “Are you excited to be going to Roku High?”

Katara shrugged. “I guess.”

Sokka knew better than to let Katara slip back into her own thoughts. “C’mon, Katara. This is your chance to actually get to bend with other water benders, let alone benders in general. You can’t tell me you aren’t at least a little bit excited.”

She sighed. “I mean, I know I’ve been practicing and all. I know that I know my stuff. It’s just,” she got quiet for a moment, searching for the right words. “What if I’m not as good as Dad and Gran Gran say I am?”

“Oh, shut up!” Sokka laughed. “Katara, you know damn well you’re the best water bender in the whole Southern Water Tribe.”

“I’m also the only water bender in our tribe-”

“Besides the point. Look,” Sokka said, pulling up to the sprawling private academy’s campus. “Dad and Gran Gran wouldn’t have given up so much if they didn’t believe in you. I wouldn’t have given up so much if I didn’t believe in you.”

Katara smiled softly at her brother and trapped him in a bone-crushing hug. “You know, when you aren’t being so sarcastic, you’re actually pretty ni-”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Stop being an annoying little sister and go kick some fire bender ass,” Sokka said, prying her off of him. “Go before you’re actually late, you nerd.”

Katara laughed and opened the door, swinging her bag over her shoulder. “Love you,” she called over her shoulder, closing the door behind her.

“Yeah, yeah, love you, too,” Sokka chuckled, putting his car in gear and slowly driving away.

Katara closed her eyes, lifting her shoulders back. She raised her chin, trying to ignore the slight sting of homesickness in her chest as little beads of sweat gathered above her brow. Opening her eyes, she touched her mother’s necklace as she walked up the white stone steps to her new school.

“Nothing will ruin this for me,” she whispered as she entered the building. “I promise, mom.”

__________

“You fucking scream water tribe, you know that?”

A hand slams onto the locker opposite Katara, jolting her out of her thoughts. She pulled her eyes away from her schedule and scoffed. “Excuse me?”

The black-haired teen cornering Katara rolled her eyes. Her silk hair was pulled back into a perfect bun, with two choppy side bangs framing her face. Her eyes and facial features were sharp enough to cut someone. She was a cunning viper, and her lips dripped poison.

“You know, if you’re going to go to a Fire Nation school, you should at least try to blend in, or at the very least, not be so… offensive to our traditions.”

Katara grabbed her books from her locker and shut it harder than she had intended to. “Look, I don’t care who you are and how old of a Fire Nation family you come from, but water benders and earth benders go here too, so lay off.”

“You should watch who you’re talking to,” the viper hissed.

A brunette, petite girl behind her frowned and opened her mouth to say something, but a girl next to her with two buns, bangs, and long black hair held up a hand to stop her before she could get a word in.

“And while other benders do attend Roku,” the girl with two buns said, “Azula is right, it has always been a traditional Fire Nation school. Hence the name Roku.”

“Thank you, Mai,” the viper, apparently named Azula, said. Katara couldn’t tell if she was actually thanking Mai for her input or if Azula was staking her claim to this battle. “You’re wearing Fire Nation colors for a reason, water girl. Take our advice, it’s best if you don’t stand out.” She sized Katara up and down. “Which tribe are you from anyways?”

“Southern,” Katara answered proudly with a smirk, leaning against her locker.

The three girls sneered at Katara.

“How the hell does a peasant from the Southern Water Tribe like you afford to come to Roku anyways?” Azula remarked. “No offense, of course.”

“Azula,” the brunette with the braid interjected, “maybe you should-“

“Shut up, Ty Lee!” Azula snapped at her.

The brunette sunk back in defeat.

A crowd started forming around the four of them, but Katara didn’t pay them any mind. She had a battle to win.

Katara glared at Azula and took a step forward. She picked up her shoulders, staring the viper straight in her eyes. “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but this ‘peasant,’” she barked, “is the daughter of Chief Hakoda and the last water bender of the Southern Water Tribe. So I suggest you watch who you talk-“

Azula let out an outraged gasp and blue sparks danced at her fingertips as she raised her hand and mentally cursing her bravery, Katara closed her eyes and said goodbye to this cruel word and-

The impact never came.

Katara opened her eyes and looked up to see a young man with his hand around Azula’s wrist.

“Enough, Azula,” he said quietly, barely above a whisper. “You know combat is forbidden outside of class.”

“I don’t care,” she hissed back, her eyes shooting daggers at him. If looks could kill, it would have been a blood bath.

“Really?” He raises an eyebrow. “Unless you want a demerit and father to find out.”

Azula’s face went ghostly pale and she got quiet. When her palm stopped crackling with electricity, he released it. He locked his golden eyes with Katara’s ocean ones for a moment. While he was probably only a year or two older than Katara, maybe around Sokka’s age, the bags under his eye and the permanent looking scowl on his face aged him further.

“Okay ZuZu,” she snapped. His emotional disarmament seemed to be only of temporary effect. “We’re done here. You can leave us to our girl talk now.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed, turning on his heel. Briefly, he nodded to one of Azula’s friends.

“Mai,” he greeted.

“Zuko,” she nodded back, cracking what could have been, had you squint really hard and looked closely, could possibly be the hint of a smile.

Zuko walked down the hall and the four girls watched him go. As he exited, so did a majority of the crowd, save for a few curious eavesdroppers.

“Now that my brother is done flirting with my friends and playing hero,” Azula said with a sigh, turning her attention back to Katara. “What was I saying before I was so rudely interrupted? Oh, right. Look, water girl, or whatever your name-“

“Katara.”

“Katara.” Azula drew out her name, testing the way it felt on her tongue. “Listen. I don’t know the way it worked in igloo village, but here, things are different. You don’t want to listen, fine by me. But my dad is someone really important, too, so I wouldn’t start swimming in water that’s too deep if you catch my drift.” Azula flicked Katara’s necklace with her finger, smirking at her. “I think we’re done here, ladies.”

Azula pushed herself off of the lockers and the others followed suit.

“Welcome to Roku High, Katara,” Azula called over her shoulder.

_______________

Sokka perked up when his sister opened the door, jumping over the couch to greet her.

“There’s my favorite bender!” He said with a huge smile, walking up to her with open arms. “How was your first day of-“

Katara slammed the door shut behind her and shot him a glare.

“... school?” Sokka whispered.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she mumbled, pushing past him and heading straight for her room, slamming that door behind her, too.

Sokka walked over to Gran Gran in the kitchen. “Ah, teenagers. You think she liked her school?”

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imalwaysaslutforthevoid · 4 years

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I was hanging out with some friends recently and we had gotten on the topic of the supernatural. If anyone believed in it or had any first hand experiences. When it got around to my turn I confessed that yes I actually believed and yes I had a few experiences. I told them about the boring ones that it seems like everyone has, a weird dream that comes true, a sudden hunch that also comes true, going to an abandoned building and hearing a voice or seeing something move. I didn’t tell them about the event that really makes me believe. It’s not something I enjoy talking about, my last therapist thought it was a hallucination brought on by stress, and most people don’t believe it anyway. It’s not one of those fun “I was chased by a monster”, or became cursed stories that do well online either. By all accounts it’s a pretty boring story. I still can’t seem to forget it or put it far enough behind me though. Anyway here’s what happened (disclaimer: this happened years ago and I don’t remember any names).

It happened during the summer at a boy scout campout like 9 or 10 years ago. Our troop and another were going to be sharing the location for the week. We were pretty excited because another troop was an opportunity to make some new friends and have a lot more fun than what we were used to. I remember we arrived at the campsite a few hours before the other troop, and we got to setting up our tents, digging a fire pit, and setting up an “axe circle” to safely chop firewood in. Standard scout shit. Anyway we finish up and are all hot and sweaty and ready to go for a swim, there’s always a lake or stream or something to swim in. Over half of us go change and head to the water, as usual the lake is slimy as hell but it still beats staying in the sun. After about an hour, we get word that the other troop has arrived. With that piece of news most of us who were in the lake got out to meet up with the other troop and help them set up camp, you know scout shit. I stayed behind with a few others in the lake, the trudge back didn’t seem that appealing when the new troop was just gonna head over here when they were done anyway. While out practicing my doggy paddle a loud crack sounded from the other side of the lake. I was lucky enough to turn my head in time to see two huge trees collapse unto the forest floor. After that I felt a kind of draw to go check out the trees. After all there weren’t supposed to be any loggers out here, and those didn’t look like the kinds of trees to just collapse. Now I'm a strong swimmer, certainly enough to swim over to the other side of the lake. But no one else wanted to go over there, and the golden rule of the scouts is “never go alone”. I certainly didn’t want to break it with witnesses around, and get lectured for going off on my own again. The commotion in the woods was left for another time pretty quickly, and completely forgotten by the time the other troop showed up to swim. We introduced ourselves, and got right to goofing off. But the woods on the other side of the lake still beckoned and I was still curious as to what felled those trees. I figured I had a week to figure out and got on with the day.

Now to help set the scene and flesh young me out a bit more let me tell you that I was not popular in my troop or even liked that much. I was and still am a weird, gay (closeted at the time), nerd. I was not interested in being a scout near as much as my father was invested in me being one, and pretty much everyone could tell. But they generally left me to my own devices and I theirs. I did have one actual friend in the troop but even then I still much preferred doing my own thing. Which I hope explains why young me leapt at the opportunity to go off on his own to explore a strange occurrence with no thought as to how this could be a bad thing. I customarily asked my friend if he wanted to accompany me. To which he said “no, not really”. I expected as much and told him not to snitch to which he replied “sure”. And that was that. At about 1pm I began my hike to the other side of the lake. There’s not much to say about the hike there, it was a thin trail winding through this densely wooded area, the sun shone through the canopy leaving a vibrant spotted path towards the other side of the lake and the answer to my question. I made good time, it was only about 45 minutes when I could see the shore where we had been swimming yesterday, perks of having long legs. Now I just had to find the trees. This proved to be a pretty easy task, two 60ft tall oaks don’t fall gracefully it turns out. Making my way to the stumps and picking up a tick or two on the way. I realized that this part of the woods was totally silent. No birds, no squirrels, no cicadas, not even the buzz of a mosquito. Despite being out in the open I suddenly felt very claustrophobic. But I was here on a mission and I could have my panic attack later. I went down to the stumps of these once great trees and saw nothing. The trees hadn’t rotted away, nor was there any sign of a chain saw. It really looked as though the trees had just broken and fallen over. My curiosity sated, I began to make my way back to camp. The silence persisted until I was out of eyeshot of the fallen trees. The return of the forest ambiance hit me like a sack of bricks, never in my life had I been so happy to hear a cricket chirp. As overjoyed as I was though I couldn't help but feel a pit in my stomach. What was causing the animals to avoid that stretch of forest? And more importantly could I find it? A new mission occupying my mind I returned to the campsite hoping I hadn’t been gone long enough to rouse anyone's suspicions. I made sure to head over to the back of the out house, taking precautions to make sure nobody was curious as to why I alone was returning to camp. As it turned out I had no reason to be so paranoid. No one who cared was at the campsite anyway. I returned to my friend and gave him a run down of what I had discovered. He didn’t really care all that much and instead asked if I wanted to have a Pokémon battle... I did.

Day three began like the others, up at dawn, helping to start the fire and then cooking breakfast, saying prayer, then eating and washing out your mess kit, and then going through the day's itinerary. Honestly this alone was exhausting enough to make me want to quit scouts. After the morning routine I began planning out my exploration. I'd be going further than yesterday. It would probably be a good idea to take an additional bottle of water, and a granola bar. After that I made my way out once again. Once again and all of a sudden I was enveloped in silence. This was wrong though “I still wasn’t at the trees, I still had a while before it was like this” i told myself. Desperate for answers I moved forward driven on by nothing but a deep curiosity. Walking along the trail I made my way back to the fallen trees. It seemed that they were much closer than i remembered because it felt like i was back in no time at all. The forest remained utterly still the only sound breaking the otherwise oppressive quiet was that of my footsteps breaking the twigs beneath my feet. As I continued on I began to notice a few strange plants. They were white as paper and scattered sparsely throughout the underbrush. I had read recently about albinism in redwoods, and just thought this was a similar phenomenon. Eager to share my discovery, I picked one of the plants and placed it in my bag. I had discovered something extraordinary but I still felt the need to go forward, the silence all but forgotten. I continued on for what felt like 30 minutes before I saw a deer. Standing alone on the trail it’s body was positioned as though it was just crossing the path but it’s head was turned away from me like something further down the trail was holding its full attention. Stunned by my luck I waited patiently for it to figure out I was there and be on its way. After a minute of waiting I noticed that the dear hadn’t continued on its way or even moved, it stood perfectly still more like a statue than any animal. Thoroughly creeped out still I felt compelled to go forward and see what was wrong with the poor thing. Even as i got within range to touch the doe she didn’t move. I maneuvered around to see her face. Her eyes looked almost cloudy but clear enough that she should still be able to see me, still she didn’t move. I was worried that she had died standing up until I saw her blink. I knew the moment i happened upon this dear that i needed to head back, but i no longer felt that i had control of myself. Whatever lay ahead wanted to be seen, wanted me to see it. The white plants grew in number as I continued further down the path. The further I went the more animals I saw paralyzed to the spot, looking forward transfixed to whatever was ahead. They were no longer my concern. The only thought in my head was the urge to go further. After a while I noticed I had exited the woods and now stood in a small meadow. Those white plants were more numerous here. And interspersed throughout were all sorts of animals standing stock still looking to the center of the meadow where a pile of dirt lay. I could feel the draw stronger than ever and I began to move forward once again towards whatever lie buried there. Under my foot I felt a light crunch. It was different from the sound of a twig, different enough to make me look down and see that the ground was littered with bones. The realization that I was standing in a mass grave was enough to break whatever spell that thing had put me under and I ran from the meadow as fast as I could. I’m not a very fit person but that didn’t matter now my body was fleeing and nothing short of getting shot would stop me from running away from that place. Even after I was beyond the deer and the white plants and could hear the birds sing again my blood still ran cold in my veins. I vomited right there, the exhaustion catching up to me. It was just then I realized that it was evening. It hadn’t felt like I was gone more than two hours but apparently I was gone more than six. My return to camp was met with a lecture, and a scolding, apparently they were about to start a search for me. I didn’t care, I had far too much on my mind at the moment. I tried to sleep that night, but it wasn’t until exhaustion took me that I managed.

I woke up late and more than a bit manic the next day. As terrified as i was of that place i still needed to know what was there. I fully understood that this was assuredly whatever evil influence that drove me to visit that meadow. But it didn’t change my need for closure. After pestering my friend the whole morning, almost on the verge of a breakdown, about how I needed him to come with me. He finally relented, I hadn’t told him what was waiting for us, he was better off not knowing. In the end I think it was the edge in my voice that had convinced him. We began our hike a bit after lunch out of the view of any scout leader who no doubt wanted me stationary for the day. It was my third time out here now, and still the sudden quiet sent a shiver down my spine. Now with my current understanding it stood out as all the more unnatural, even the air was still. It felt more akin to taking your first step into a crypt than it did a walk in the woods. My friend was immediately on edge, he wanted us to go back. “Something just feels wrong,” he said “let’s go back before we get in trouble”. But I wouldn’t be deterred, I had to show someone else. Not even so they’d believe me, more so I’d believe myself. After I forced him to continue with me. I noticed small discrepancies with the day before. The white plants were all gone, and the deer wasn’t there anymore. I no longer felt the drive to continue on that wasn’t my own. I was becoming desperate. I know that I had experienced something here, where was it all? where had it all gone? I was soon to get my answer, when we finally cleared the woods and stumbled into that meadow. It was still strewn with bones and the odd animal corpse. But in the center where that pile of dirt once lay there was now a shallow pit. Only about three feet deep, and totally empty. My friend was desperate to leave this was already gruesome enough without the added effects. Numb, I agreed. We made our way back. It took us two and a half hours, how had I spent well over six on that trail. Desperate for any proof that what I experienced was real I went rummaging through my bag looking for the white plant I had pulled up. It had shriveled and died, now as sad and brown as any dead plant on the forest floor. I once again felt a wave of exhaustion rock my body. I slept till dinner. When i woke up it was to bad news, apparently one of the scouts from the other troop had gone missing. And we were going to search for him. I felt a weight in my stomach drop. I had no proof, as far as I knew my friend and I were the only ones who knew about the meadow and I was the only one who knew the whole truth. But if it could latch onto me like it did, who’s to say it couldn’t latch on to someone else. It was dark and we were all exhausted by the time the search was called off, these woods ran for miles. And we weren’t trained or prepared for a manhunt. The next day the scout leaders were talking to some park rangers about the missing kid. The rangers wanted to know if we had any information about where he could’ve gone or what he was doing before he went missing. My friend gave me a look, but I stayed quiet, I had a feeling deep in my gut that whatever it was that kid had dug up it was better off not being found. After that we packed up and headed home early. I don’t know if that kid was ever found. I don't know where his troop is from to find out, but I don’t really want to know either. Whatever happened on that campout I'm fine leaving as a loose end.

#creepypasta #horror #writing #this is my first attempt at something like this so be kind you freaks

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kookienomster3 · 7 years

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I Want The Headline (Pt. 5)

Written By: suga-of-daegu BTS Fanfiction Angst WARNING: MATURE CONTENT Mafia/Gang

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Jungkook nodded as Taehyung slipped past him out of the room. As soon as he was out of sight, Jungkook was frowning at you, "What was he saying to you?" You feigned ignorance, shaking your head,

"Nothing-"

He crossed his arms over his chest. "You're lying, what did he say?" Visibly taken aback by the sudden shift in attitude, you paused. Telling him the truth would end badly, wouldn't it?

"He..he was asking me why I didn't pick him." You whispered. It was the partial truth. Taehyung had indeed asked that. Jungkook stared at you intently for a moment. That was what you were lying about? The only reason you should feel the need to lie about it is if you were seriously wondering if Taehyung was the better choice. His expression hardened and he beckoned you over. You obeyed, letting his arms wrap around your shoulder as he led you into the hall.

Once you two were a few feet down the hall, Jungkook ripped his flannel that was draped over your shoulders off, flinging it somewhere behind him. "Hey! Get out here!" He screamed, taking a step down the hall. He leaned back to grip your wrist and tug you forward, "Hey! Y/N's free for grabs!" He called out, banging on room doors as he led you down the hall. Beyond confused, you silently let you lead him. What was he doing? Several men opened their doors to investigate Jungkook's sudden racket. Upon hearing that you were up for grabs, they ventured out into the hall, making a beeline towards you. Your heart started to race when Jungkook's hand slipped away and several people much bigger than you crowded around you.

Jungkook didn't bat an eyelash when the first man gripped your arm tightly, pulling you towards his door. These men were savages, you thought frantically. You tried to pry his hand off, looking back to Jungkook desperately, "Jungkook! Please! Don't-" The man's other hand clamped over your mouth,

"No one likes a whiner, shut your mouth." He growled. Before he could get you to step into his room, Jungkook pried the guy's hands away, pulling you back into his chest and shoving the man into his room. You gripped onto him tightly, pressing your face against his collarbone. Your whole body shaking, your fingers dug into his back. You could feel his heart beating steadily and the feel of taut muscles and sturdy bone contracting and expanding against your body as he breathed calmly. The flannel he had flung earlier was now draped over his shoulder and you snatched it up, holding it tightly to your face, weeping into the soft fabric. If this what was going to happen if you ventured out of his room or the Waiting Room without it, then this shirt was never going to leave your side.

"I'm Jungkook's." you chanted softly, warily eyeing the few men who still lingered in the halls. "Don't touch me, I'm Jungkook's." A hand settled on your lower back and you flinched. Jungkook quietly shushed you, assuring you that it was him who touched you. The men who had congregated in the hall all grumpily returned to their rooms. It seemed Jungkook had changed his mind about sharing.

"In case you were thinking Tae was a better option," Jungkook murmured to you softly, "That was his idea of fun with his girls...but he doesn't stop them, he just watches." Tentatively, he kissed your brow, thoroughly surprised when you tilted your head up and kissed him fully on the mouth. His lips upturned slightly and he sighed quietly, licking his lips.

"Please don't do that again," You pleaded, resting your head back against him, "I was so scared when you let go of me. I thought.." He marveled a bit at how tightly you clung to him, eyes drawn to the tears falling down your face. You were really scared without him beside you. No one had ever cried in relief to see him before. Testing his limits even further, he brushed his fingertips along the side of your face, breath catching when you leaned into his touch. Seeing the way you held onto his shirt for dear life and chanted that you only wanted him made him feel something.

And he liked it.

And he knew he didn't want to share it.

Jimin paced around the cemetery. Out of all the places he could've gone to think, he ended up coming here. Since he had taken the effort to walk here, he might as well continue with his original idea. He quietly walked through the gates, careful to walk on the cement strips between graves.

Tonight was rather cold and rather stupidly, he had come out in just a t-shirt. He was too angry at the time to look for a jacket; quite dumb on his part. Jimin's eyes lingered over one of the white marble tombstones. He had read the name a thousand times but still stopped to read it again every time he came here. That was where Yoongi's fiancee was buried. He never dwelled there for too long and tonight was no different. He only thing he knew for sure about her was how much Yoongi loved her. The next stone he stopped at was where his girlfriend was laid to rest. Kneeling before it, he tenderly wiped the dirt off. She never liked things to be too messy.

Jimin smiled softly, tearing out some grass blades that had grown too long. "You know.." He began softly, scratching off some clumped dirt from around the name,"Jin had a sister... Crazy right? She doesn't look much like him, but they're both..well, you know what you thought Jin's looks." He chuckled," Anyway...Yoongi gave her over to Namjoon and now she's under Jungkook... I hope she's alright." He stood up, brushing off his pants, "You know first hand how he can be., don't you? I'm sorry I didn't show up sooner.."

Jimin turned back towards the gates, "I love you. See you next time." He paused, looking back at the lone tombstone, "And tell Yoongi hyung's fiancee that he misses her a lot; even if he doesn't come around anymore." He passed through the gates, turning left and heading towards the docks. It was getting closer to 1:30 and by the time he actually got there, it'd be 2 am. A quick text was sent out to Hoseok, letting him know that he'd meet him there. Hoseok replied immediately, informing him that he was going to grab an extra med-kit and head out there.

Head to the docks to get the shit beat out of him..that's how he was spending his Friday night- or technically, his Saturday morning. He laughed bitterly. What exactly was Yoongi hoping to gain out of this? Still, Jimin trusted him. Yoongi had some screwed up tactics, but he knew what he was doing and Jimin had always blindly followed and everything turned out alright..for the most part. He was about to start doubting his leader now. Crossing several streets Jimin took a short break at the bar a block from the docks. Leaned up against the wrought iron gates, he calmly watched the flickering flashlights of the dock security as they searched for amateur drug dealers. He laughed quietly, watching idiot teens scramble out of the light's path as they tried to avoid being caught and the guards jumping at every sound.

After a few minutes, he pushed himself off the gate and headed across the street, candidly strolling along the tall gates of the docks. He followed the gates until they cut off and the path dropped off to the ocean. He inched closer to the edge, toes of his boots hanging off in open air. A particularly strong gust of wind blew by, whipping his brightly colored bang in his face. Jimin took a step back to adjust his knit hat over his head pushing all his hair under it. He'd be stupid to let his orange-dyed hair remain out in sight.

Satisfied, he stepped back to the edge and sat down. Dark water crashed violently against the rocks about 100 feet below him. "Aishh," He giggled softly, "I'd hate to die that way." A flashlight shone somewhere nearby. He needed to be a little quicker it seemed. Toeing at the concrete, he felt around for the support bar somewhere under the ledge. Finding purchase on it, he sucked in a breath and grasped a bar on the gate beside him. This part was hard. He had to support all his weight with one arm that gripped the gate and lower himself down- with the tide crashing against the rocks below him- until his foot was resting firmly against the small metal bar tucked under the lip of concrete where the dock ended.

Jimin started to lower himself down. One hand tightly gripping the gate rod, the other pressed against the concrete cliff, to prevent himself from smacking into it. His foot slipped on the wet metal rod and he almost fell into the murky water below. Breathing slowly, he tried again this time getting a good footing. The bad thing about this bar was that it only fit one foot and other hung useless at his side, throwing off his balance. He literally had to muscle his way down, to the side to clear the gate and then back up just to get to the docks without being seen by any cameras. The docks were Namjoon's turf, so there was no hopping the fence or forcing his way in. He had to get in without being seen, which unfortunately involved a lot of climbing along cliffs. "If I don't die here," He muttered to himself, "I should really tell Yoongi hyung to find an easier way to get in."

Jimin released the iron gate and there were few seconds where he was falling back towards the water as he scrambled to grab the edge of the concrete. He must look odd from afar he mused. Only the top of his head and fingertips were visible from land. If anyone were out at sea looking over, they'd just see a man dangling from the edge of the docks. Jimin laughed, "I must look pretty dumb.."

A flashlight came into view again and he quickly ducked down, hoping they wouldn't see his hand gripping the ground. There were no footprints coming closer, so he assumed he was in the clear. Now, all he had to do was step off the metal rod and rely solely on his arm strength to shift him over, past where the gate ended right at the edge of the dock. It was a good thing he didn't have to fight back against Jungkook, he was tired already. Tentatively, Jimin lifted one hand, his stomach lurching as slipped, "Shit.." He hissed, grabbing back onto the ledge and sliding over a bit. His legs dangled uselessly, being blown around by the strong sea gusts. After a several more motions of almost scaring himself to death, he had cleared the gate.

Now all he had to do was pull himself back up onto the ledge. "I'm tired~" he whined, slowly pulling himself up. As his head cleared, he looked around, making sure no guards were around. Seeing none, he pulled himself up fully, flopping down onto the concrete and panting. His arms were numb from supporting his entire body weight for so long. Rolling onto his side, Jimin checked the time; it was 15 minutes past 2. He needed to get moving.

Standing up he looked over to where he started. It was literally a foot away, just separated by the iron gate and he had to do all this climbing and almost falling to his death to move a foot to the right of where he started. "Yeah..there has to be an easier way." He concluded, "'I wonder how Hobi's going to get in."

Jungkook laughed at your look of disbelief, his open palm slapping down on his thigh as he laughed, "Really! I've never heard of that! What did you do there? Just eat?"

You shook your head, "No! You're lying! You're a guy, you have to have heard of Sochi's Grill! That was like..the number one spot to go on dates at for high school students!" You studied his face for a reaction. Jungkook only looked back at the road, the traces of a smile still lingering on his face. "Jeon Jungkook, you know about it." You pressed. He smiled to himself as he flipped on his turn signal,

"I really don't!" He continued to argue playfully, "I've never heard of Sochi's Grill or whatever this place is. Why was it so popular with school couples?"

"It's where all the couples went for their dates because old man Sochi was really cool and didn't kick them out when.."

He looked over at you, "When..?"

Your cheeks reddened and you were thankful it was dark out. "When they..got a little too touchy."

Jungkook was quiet for a moment," You wanna go there now?" He teased, giggling at your genuine surprise. "Yea?" he pretended to hear, "Okay~" You rolled your eyes, laying back in your seat,

"I can't believe you've never heard of it... Ahh, did you even go to school?" You joked, glancing at him. His smile faded, hand holding the wheel a little tighter,

"Not really.." he murmured," Was kinda busy with other stuff."

"Wait, I didn't mean to- I was joking, Jungkook." You pressed. "You know that right?" He smiled softly at you,

"Why do you do that?"

"What?"

"You talked to me like.." He thought for a moment, " Like.I don't know...you know when people pick up puppies? They're really gentle and careful and delicate...and it's not mockingly, it's because they care about it and want to love it. That's how you talk to me."

You frowned softly,"How else am I supposed to talk to you? Do you want me to yell and hit you?"

Jungkook shrugged, "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't used to that...but no. I like the way you talk to me." He grinned softly at you, "I'm glad you picked me. Now, come on." You belatedly realized he had parked the car at the docks, "Two sweeps around here and then we can go to Sochi's; are they still open?" He laughed when you slapped his arm, leaning over towards you. His hands gripped your jaw, pulling your mouth towards his. He pressed a firm kiss on your lips, pulled away slightly and then pressed a softer one there. "It's usually dead here when it's cold, so this should be quick." You stepped out of the car, instantly shivering. It really was cold. Jungkook came up behind you, flicking the back of your neck with a grin. "We're going this way." He instructed, heading towards the loading dock crane."So how long have you been in the organization?" He asked, glancing down at you, "You mentioned something about hours earlier?"

You stared at your hands, "Yeah...hours. I was traded to Namjoon- I think his name is- by Yoongi..for a ring.."Jungkook whistled lowly, nodding,

"That's kinda weird...How long were you with Yoongi's group?" His hand briefly wrapped around your waist to lead you around a corner. You noticed that everytime you two came to an intersection, he'd slow down, making sure to keep you behind him.

"Hours." You chuckled bitterly. "He had me abducted to get me Jin to cooperate with him."

He looked back at you in confusion, "Who's Jin?"

You frowned at him, "My brother." Didn't already know this? Sure you hadn't mentioned yet that Jin was your brother, but Jin's name alone should have been familiar to him. He must've sensed you off tone because he soon gave you an odd look.

" Okay... and how do you know Jin?" he pressed slowly. You relaxed, maybe he had a cover to keep and had to pretend to not know Jin. Just telling him that Jin was your brother should clear everything up. Then you could get down to making up a plan to help Jin.

"He's my brother." You informed him. He nodded distractedly, checking around the next corner,

"What were we talking about again?"

"Jeon!" You whined. He chuckled,

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He amended,"We got off track and I forgot." He leaned down, pecking your lips, "And what's with this 'Jeon'? Getting informal already?" You pushed him away, turning away from his teasing expression. His laughter died out, fingers curling into the front of your jacket, and pulling you slowly behind him," Stay right behind me and be quiet." He whispered, "There's someone else here." He started towards the dock station (which looked more like a shack) slowly, "If I tell you to run, you run. Don't look back or slow down, just run."

Standing under the dull lamp of the shack, a figure straightened up, waving at them, "Jungkookie~!" You recognized Jimin's voice. Jungkook's back muscles tensed under your hands as you held onto him. He stepped further out, clearing the trailer and meeting Jimin out in the open. You peeked around him at Jimin. "Ahh, it's cold tonight, right?" He whined, "I should've brought a jacket."

Jungkook stopped walking, his eyes narrowing, "Why are you here? Who are you waiting for?"

Jimin giggled,"I'm waiting for you, Jungkookie."

"Stop calling me that." He huffed. Jungkook shifted his weight from one foot to the other and that's when Jimin noticed you.

"Hey~ How are you doing? Did you miss me?" He asked, sidestepping to get a better look at you, "I've missed you a lot, baby~"

"Don't call her that." Jungkook hissed. Jimin's smile fell into a challenging smirk,

"And what are you going to do about it...Jungkookie?" Jimin stepped forward, hand reaching out to ruffle Jungkook's hair, Jungkook smack it away, "Ahh.." Jimin teased, glancing at you, "Why don't we put the little one to bed, baby and then you and I can-"

You jumped as Jimin's head snapped back, his hands going to his nose. Pulling it away, Jimin examining the blood. "Ow.." He lunged forward, fist connecting with Jungkook's mouth and suddenly the two of them were rolling on the ground. Jungkook quickly gained the upper hand, sitting on Jimin's chest and wailing on him. You noticed that Jimin wasn't fighting back.

Why wasn't he?

Fairly soon, you found yourself grabbing onto Jungkook's waist and pulling with all your might, trying to get him off Jimin. He was much bigger than you and despite using all your weight to pull at the tense muscles of his shoulders, he hadn't been hindered in the slightest. Beneath him, Jimin silent braced himself for each hit. Why wasn't he fighting back? "Jungkook! Jungkook, stop!" He ignored you, pushing Jimin's face against the asphalt.

"Why the hell aren't you fighting back!" Jungkook shouted angrily. Jimin always fought back. He was the one who started this and now all of a sudden he didn't want to fight? Jungkook's hands dove down for Jimin's neck, gripping it tightly. "Fucking fight back you little bitch!" The other man gagged violently, the areas around his eyes reddening. By then you were shrieking, frantically clawing at Jungkook's arm.

"Stop it! You're going to kill him!" you screamed desperately. Jungkook turned to you suddenly, releasing Jimin. He fell to the ground with a thud and rolled on his side clutching his neck while coughing and gasping for breath. Ignoring Jungkook, you dropped down beside Jimin rubbing his back,"Are you okay? Let me see." His dazed eyes passed over your head, focusing above you. Voice hoarse, he tried to say something, but it came out as a croaked whine as he shut his eyes in pain. A dark shadow loomed over you, a chill setting into your bones. You started to scramble back, but Jungkook had grabbed the collar of your shirt, jerking you up against his chest.

"You're going to stand right here and be quiet. Got that? Jimin's not any of your business." he hissed lowly, shoving you back. You opened your mouth to protest but he was quickly growled, "I didn't stutter. Shut your damn mouth, Y/N."

You watched in horror as Jungkook gripped Jimin's collar, raising his head up only to strike him with his fist. Wanting to move away, but too afraid of what Jungkook would do, you tried to focus on the color of Jimin's shoes. Anything to distract from the awful sounds. But when he started to jerk erratically with each blow, you couldn't bare to watch any part of him. Tears gathered in your eyes, falling silently as you flinched at each wet thud of Jungkook's fist against Jimin's face. How could Jimin be so silent? When a cry of pain suddenly passed through Jimin's lips, you just started to run. You had to be away from this, you couldn't bare it.

From his spot by a bunch of crates, Hoseok saw you run by. He wanted to call out to you, but you were already too far away and he had been ordered to keep an eye on Jimin so Jungkook wouldn't kill him. And from the looks of it, he needed to intervene soon. He decided to just call it in, "The girl...Jin's sister... Jungkook brought her and she just ran off somewhere. Jungkook's too distracted to notice."

"I'll get her."

You ran in the direction of the car, fully intent on just waiting and trying to calm down. But the closer you got to it, the more suspicious it seemed. Did Jungkook leave the lights on? Your run died down into a jog, then you stopped completely. Was that the engine you heard? It wasn't like the car inched forward that you started to run in the opposite direction back to Jungkook. The car took off, quickly catching up to you, passing you and then stopping in front of you. You bumped into it, halfway falling through the passenger window that was rolled down. The driver grabbed your hand, and you shrieked. His eyes narrowed, "Shut the fuck up before I yank you through his window." Your eyes met Yoongi's. He was frowning, hand slackening on your wrist. Ignoring how he had come to find you, and why he was in Jungkook's car you gripped onto his jacket sleeve pulling him towards the window, "Jimin! He's- Jungkook's beating him! You have to help hi-" Yoongi's hands firmly pried yours off of him. He dusted off his sleeves,

"I am aware."

"You..you know..?" You echoed. If he knew then why wasn't he doing anything? Maybe he already had?

"You got him safely?"

Yoongi studied you silently. Shutting off the ignition to the car and getting out, he stepped around it to stand in front of you, "Why do you care?" His slender fingers lifted to the stretched collar of your shirt, "You were fighting too?" He mused quietly, smoothing down the frayed fabric.

"No...I... I tried to pull Jungkook off an-"

Yoongi smiled at you, "You? Tried to pull Jungkook off Jimin? How did that work out?" He tugged at the collar,"Is that how this happened?"

"Yes, but...you never answered me. Did you get him out safely?"

"I got them." His arm reached out beside you, hand opening the passenger door, "We took Jungkook too." He nodded towards the car,"Now, get the fuck in before I leave you here in the rain."

Jungkook had been strapped to a chair beside Jin. A fold out table had been set up a few feet away, seemingly random items scattered across it. Between the tied up men and the table stood Yoongi, hands clasped gently behind his back."Talked to your little busy boy." Yoongi chimed softly, "It's a bit funny that his name is also Jungkook, right?" His eyes passed over Jin gleefully,"Anyone ever get you two confused?"

Jungkook apathetically stared back at him. Unperturbed, Yoongi continued," One little threat to inject a little more epinephrine than was healthy and he was gladly fessing up Namjoon's plans to me. You should really get your member's loyalty check out." His hands ran over the pair of scissors on the table, "So..what you're going to do is call off that attack by any means necessary. Sabotage the weapons, ask nicely, even kill Namjoon if you have to; it'll be less shit for me to worry about."

Jungkook finally reacted; with a smirk. "And why would I do that?" Were they going to torture him or something? He'd been through that before. What about the guy next to him? Who exactly was he? Jungkook had never seen him before.

You were jerked into view. Although you were blindfolded and couldn't see a thing, you could clearly hear your brother's soft plea of 'No'. Jungkook hadn't made a sound. Jimin stood behind you, holding your tied hands and maneuvering you forward a bit.

"Jimin, I'm scared." You whispered. You never thought you'd be tied up back in this warehouse, but here you were. Voice still hoarse from being choked, Jimin tenderly kissed the tip of your shoulder,

"I'm right here, baby. Just focus on me, alright?" He quietly soothed. As long as everyone cooperated for a change, you'd be perfectly fine. You heard someone jerk against their restraints and Yoongi's bemused chuckle,

"Oh..Did that make you mad?"

#bts #kpop #BTS suga #BTS jimin #BTS jin #BTS jungkook #bts v #BTS rap monster #bts jhope #btsarmy #bts fan fics #angst #smut #IWTH

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hollywoodx4 · 8 years

Text

Sticking With the Schuylers (18A)

Hello again! I had to split this into 2 parts because I couldn’t even handle how long it got, and I figured I’d leave the actual dramatics for “Part B”. I feel like it’s...it’s hard to describe my feelings about B, I’ll just say that.

Also thank you for putting up with my drawn-out chapters (I always feel like ‘the side of Ham that wrote the other 51′ when it takes me chapters and chapters to get from point A to point B. But I also love character studies and what makes people tick so that’s my lame reasoning behind it. Either way, I hope you enjoy!

In this part, the pre-brunch ritual is thrown off and it makes Angelica uneasy...

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 I 13 14 15 16 17

Loud disco music blares through the closed door. The third door from the staircase; twenty-six steps from the stairs, straight across the hall from the bathroom. It’s the second-largest bedroom in the Schuyler mansion only to their parents’ master bedroom, and lately it’s become more of a dressing room. Peggy is the beneficiary of it all, a senior in high school with her sister’s bedrooms empty while they’re away. She doesn’t use them, per say, but the youngest Schuyler liked to think she’d be crazy to deny herself the opportunity of two ‘walk-in closets.’

And although she often claims Eliza’s style is too preppy, and Angelica’s too business, there’s often an Instagram photo or a moment on Skype that brings the two older sisters barreling to her door. Eliza will ask for her clothing back. Angelica will demand. But the best part of having her older sister’s bedrooms out of use for the better portion of the year is when they do come…Angelica’s room, because it is the largest, has been transformed more into a ‘ready room.’ It’s the latest addition to the ritual of Sunday brunch, the girls arriving at the first signs of morning with coffee and duffle bags stuffed full of supplies.

First they’d sit around the breakfast nook, Laurie the chef having prepared an array of pastries the night before, knowing of the serious light which Sunday morning brunch was painted in this family. The girls would chat, catching up in a more filtered light. Laurie was a gossip; they’d discovered that truth when she’d told both Paul, the driver and Elena, the housekeeper, about Angelica’s first time. (Luckily the story hadn’t gotten back to their father, but oh boy did Angelica ream her out for that one).

Peggy also often used this ritual as a regular addition to her continually-updated Instagram story; clothing strewn over every surface, the three huddled close and leaning over Angelica’s vanity, the occasional 3-part harmony to a Beyoncé classic…it was a ritual that had become loved by America nearly as much as it was by the sisters.

Today is no different. Peggy Schuyler rolls out of bed (7 am is unreasonably early for a Sunday, she always argued) to a barrage of social media notifications; people getting ready for the weekly update on the sisters they looked forward to with such anticipation. She runs a hand though her unruly, sleep-mussed hair and yawns, jumping in the shower. By the time she finally gets out she can already hear Angelica’s voice. The oldest Schuyler is the continually eager and early to Peggy’s regularly late, so when she barrels down the stairs in her usual leggings and large sweater combo Angelica rolls her eyes, teasing. The only difference to the day is that Eliza hasn’t arrived yet.

The oldest and youngest Schuylers set out their clothing for the day, draping dress choices over Angelica’s queen-sized bed and helping each other choose which might be the best look. Angelica’s gaze flips back to the clock. She watches as the time ticks away. It’s 8:30. Eliza still hasn’t arrived.

Peggy notices the change in the air of the room and turns from her place at Angelica’s closet. Her sister’s rapidly dialing numbers on her phone, pressing it to her ear as she paces around the room. One ring, two rings….Eliza finally picks up on the third ring, her voice soft and guarded. She immediately puts her on speaker phone, gesturing to the youngest Schuyler.

Betsey’s using her ‘phone voice.’

There’s something to be said about conversations had through the phone; for one, Angelica finds that it is almost easier to discern somebody’s honesty through the phone, if she knows them. When John uses his phone voice with her it’s lower, slower...calculating. Typically, it’s when he’s waiting to bring up a difficult conversation. Peggy’s loud, voice turning higher pitched and sweeter than her typical sarcastic tone. She uses her ‘phone voice’ to sweet talk her way into things, or to pretend she hasn’t done something they both know she has. But Eliza…

Eliza is honest; always honest. Angelica has heard her subdued, stoic timbre only twice in her entire life. Once, when she was eighteen and Eliza fourteen, she’d called her little sister in early September to catch up on their new lives apart. She’d just gone off to college, leaving Eliza fending for herself in her first year of high school. Of course, Angelica worried. And of course, her little sister didn’t want her to be worried. So when she called for their nightly chat that second week of school, she immediately noticed the change in her sister’s voice-which caused her to break down crying on the phone. Some kids she didn’t know had been teasing her about being adopted into wealth.

Angelica skipped her afternoon class the next day to dismiss her middle sister from school, linking arms with her and marching straight toward the gaggle of awkward, stone-faced freshman. All it took was one look from the oldest Schuyler to set Elizabeth’s year right. Nobody messed with a Schuyler sister without hearing it from her.

The second time…the second time is more difficult for Angelica to remember, only because she wishes it would be wiped from her memory. She’d called on a Thursday morning, when she was twenty-two and Eliza was eighteen, nearly nineteen. Her sister had just moved in with her boyfriend-much to Angelica’s dismay. She’d only given a slight nod of approval at the forward direction of the relationship, feeling a bit uneased about the man who was her age and not her dear Betsey’s. He was mature, sure, and yes that’s what Elizabeth needed. Angelica wasn’t sure that he was completely right for her. But this was her kind, sweet, trusting middle sister. She needed approval. She needed her older sister’s support.

When Eliza picked up the phone she practically whispered her greeting…her breathing was obvious and slightly ragged, as if she’d been crying. Angelica fed her small-talk questions to analyze her voice, wondering why she seemed so off. It wasn’t until she heard James on the other line that she’d began to put the pieces together. It wasn’t until Eliza rushed her off of the phone until it hit her.

Maybe, if she’d realized things sooner, Angelica could have done something more.

So now, on this Sunday morning where she’s twenty-four and Eliza’s twenty, her breath hitches in her throat when her middle sister’s greeting rings through the now silent ‘ready room’ of the Schuyler mansion.

Betsey’s using her ‘phone voice.’

And although Peggy doesn’t quite understand how Angelica can hear the slight differences of voice, they’re there. They’re there in the muted volume; in the slower method of speech. She can hear the rushing of cars in the background, competing with the volume of Eliza’s voice.

…

“Sorry I’m running late, it’s been a crazy morning.” Eliza holds the phone close to her ear, burrowing her head further in her scarf as the November wind blows breezily around her. A shiver runs through her body. She frowns, unsure of whether it’s from the brisk weather or the half-a-lie that spills immediately from her lips.

By any other standard of the word it hasn’t been a crazy morning at all; she’d rolled out of bed only ten minutes before, running a comb through her hair before throwing on a pair of sweatpants and toting her bag to the place their driver was supposed to be picking her up. She’d already had to call him, apologetic for making him wait for so long. But it hadn’t been a crazy morning. Not by any other standard.

She would, however, admit that the night had been rough. She hadn’t slept again-had seen every hour on her clock. Elizabeth had tossed and turned, twisting in her blankets until she’d given up on sleeping in her bed completely. She’d tried the armchair, then the sofa in the living room…finally, she ended up on the carpet in the kitchen. No matter where she was, though, the nightmares followed her.

They would start differently; a random scenario her brain would suddenly recall, in vivid and horrifying detail. Sometimes, they were first person dreams. Others, it was like she was a bug on the ceiling, watching a horror movie tailor made to her own personal terrors. And everything felt so real, so shockingly real, that she’d wake up to run her hands up and down her arms, her legs, checking to see if any damage had really been done.

Stop crying. Don’t be so pathetic. You’re stronger than this.

But she wasn’t-she isn’t. Elizabeth Schuyler, waking up in a cold sweat and running a hand over the scar in the center of her chin. She hadn’t been strong then and certainly, she supposes as she attempts to shake the nightmares away once more, she’s still the same person she had been; Weak. Frail. Mentally and physically afflicted by the personal tornado that had been her relationship with James Reynolds.

And then, the kicker; in the early morning hours, when she’d finally felt like exhaustion would carry her into a dreamless sleep, her phone began to rang. 6:30 a.m-Alexander. She’s let it go to voicemail. He actually leaves her a voicemail. She rolls back over without listening to it.

6:45 a.m. Voicemail. 7:20 a.m. Voicemail. The call at 7:56 wakes her from a particularly bad nightmare, and she wipes beads of sweat from her face as she pushes her hair back, fighting to keep her eyes open and the lump in her throat at bay. This one, she considers answering. But then there are flashes-moments from her dreaming hours that come flying back through her conscious mind. She denies the call from even coming through.

Sorry, Alexander. Late for brunch-Calling back later. x.

It’s the best response her mind can formulate right now, through shaking hands and thumbs just barely grazing the keyboard on her phone. She feels awful.

She feels even worse when she finally gets to the Schuyler mansion, apologizing profusely to Paul for making him wait so long while she stumbles through the front door, kicking her shoes off before thundering up the stairs. It doesn’t take long for the raucous disco music to subside; actually, it’s stopped the second the walks through Angelica’s door. Her older sister sits on one of the bar stools in front of her vanity, legs and arms both crossed in a show of…Elizabeth can’t quite read the expression on Angelica’s face. It’s shifting, continually changing as she throws her own duffle bag of clothing and makeup near the bed and pulls her things out to get ready.

For once Angelica’s speechless-part of her isn’t sure there’s a conversation to be had within the slight change of voice she’d heard over the phone. But she also doesn’t want to take the risk of leaving her middle sister alone to her thoughts-she’d made that mistake before. Eliza was too concerned about everybody else to actually ask for help when she needed it. Angelica had made it her job a long time ago to do the talking-and the nurturing. It was her job to shelter the person who took care of everybody else. It was her job to speak up.

She lets the awkward silence hang in the air as Eliza pulls her makeup bag out, finding her seat next to Angelica at the vanity. Peggy turns the music back on, and they fall into a hesitant rendition of their usual routine. Peggy cracks a few jokes. The laughter is forced. The atmosphere is forced. Something feels different about the day, and it sets Angelica to the edge of her seat until finally, as they’re zipping up each other’s dresses, the oldest Schuyler cracks.

“Okay, talk. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Bets.” It’s Peggy who speaks up, throwing the curse word her way before throwing her hands onto her hips. “We know you’re still upset about the James thing,”

“And you have every right to be.”

“I’m tired, alright?” Eliza’s voice comes out somewhere between a shout and a low whisper, cracking on the last syllable as she plops back onto Angelica’s bed. Her dress a mess of aqua colored tight-fitting lace with a flare-out bottom that bunches underneath her laying form. “I’m tired of pretending that everything is alright when it’s not. Alex called me ten times this morning. And here I am ignoring his calls because I can’t bear to pick up the phone in between vivid, horrifying nightmares to hear him tell me how happy he is with me. Because eventually I’m going to tell him and it’s all going to end and then what?”

“And then none of that is going to happen.” Peggy’s quiet, placing an arm gently on her sister’s knee before she and Angelica flank her on either side. The sisters lay on their backs, heads touching as they grasp for each other’s hands. For a moment they let their middle sister just lay with them, basking in the familiarity and comfort of each other. And then,

“Girls, the car is waiting for us.” Phillip Schuyler yells up the stairs to his daughters. All three take in a collective sigh before rising from the bed. Angelica threads her arm through Eliza’s. Peggy does the same. They show up to brunch like this, managing a bright-eyed public profile as they’re escorted to the rooftop of the Waldorf Astoria. But then there’s a moment-a photographer Angelica recognizes. She gives Peggy a silent alert.

The published photo shows the Schuyler sisters, New York darlings, dressed up for their weekly brunch. Elizabeth Schuyler does not look at the camera but her sisters do-in fact, they look directly into it. And it’s a familiar, alarming look-Angelica’s eyes are narrowed and darkened. Peggy’s grip is tighter. It’s a solidarity, and they’re directing it right at someone they know will publish it.

And for once, Angelica can’t wait to see this one on the news stands-for him to see it.

#hamliza #alexander x eliza #hamilton au #the schuyler sisters #just wait #just you wait #B isn't one of the big huge oh my god chapters #but i still think it'll change the game a bit

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itsuki-minamy · 4 years

Text

“K - THE FIRST STORY”

CHAPTER 3: THE SWORD, THE CAT, AND THE SEVEN KINGS (Part 1)

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

* Prologue: Side: The Boy * Chapter 1: The boy named Isana Yashiro * Chapter 2: Flames

Kuro Yatogami had a mission to fulfill. It is not an exaggeration to say that it means the meaning of living for the current Kuro.

(I ask you, Kuro.)

Miwa said from the hospital bed, and looked at him with compassionate eyes.

Kuro found it difficult to imagine living in a world without Miwa. For Kuro, Miwa's existence was a sign of life. He was worried because he lost him and didn't know if he could walk forward properly.

It may have been because of that Kuro that Miwa announced his death. Even after he died, Miwa showed him the way to go.

On the rooftop of the building in front of Shizume-cho station, Kuro was pointing his sword at a boy.

The boy seems guilty of his sins and is confused by what he does not remember.

But the evidence is already available. From now on, Kuro will kill this boy.

The sword arm has been trained since he was little. However, he has never killed anyone. It would be a lie if he said that he is not scared, but there is no doubt.

(This is the last difficult task.)

Miwa's smiling face after entrusting his life to Kuro was revived, and Kuro focused on the hand holding the sword.

The sword "Kotowari" that Miwa entrusted to him to fulfill his last mandate. He will not needlessly unsheathe this sword.

"Isana Yashiro!"

Kuro proudly pronounced the name the boy gave himself. Grab the handle of the sword with both hands and prepare.

"The word of the seventh king, Miwa Ichigen, is to take your life."

"Wait a minute!"

"Take this!"

The boy turned around and started running.

Kuro didn't chase after him, activating his right hand. It is the power to ignore space and grab the desired object, manifested as a member of the Colorless Clan. He can call it an invisible hand.

Kuro grabs the boy's neck and uses his long, invisible hand to hang him up in the air so he can't escape.

"Are you really going to kill me?!"

The boy screamed, flapping his limbs in the air unsteady. Kuro lowers his eyebrows at the evil of his death.

"Resign yourself!"

"No! I'm innocent! Is it Miwa's order to kill an innocent person?!"

"Innocent?"

Kuro turned his eyes to a huge monitor on the wall of the building. There was still a still image of the boy holding a gun with an evil look.

Kuro released the ability of the right hand dangling the boy. Catch the falling boy with one hand, turn around and look at the giant monitor.

The boy looked ridiculous at the motionless evidence.

"Ah... I may not seem innocent. But aren't you saying it right? People aren't watching, let's judge from the content."

"My idea is that people are not what they seem, they are not what they are on the inside, they should be judged for their actions."

"No, that's why I'm telling you it's not me! You're wrong!"

"No matter how you look at it, it's you. Don't swear wrong!"

"My Lord is not in this country. It is only Miwa's word."

The boy drowned as if he had lost his power.

"Ok... I can't help saying this. Boil me or bake me, whatever you want."

"Finally ripe."

"But in the end, please allow me to make a request."

When a dying person asks him to make a final request, he can't do anything, but Kuro thought about it for a moment and then replied, "Tell me."

When he released the captured hand, the boy took a seat across from Kuro.

“I want to write a suicide note. To my sister."

"Sister?!"

"Yes. To remember me. I can't help you trust my innocence. But I don't want my sister to believe that someone else killed me."

Criminals have families too. That's obvious. However, Kuro got upset when he was hit by the obvious.

His sister is not guilty. Even though she was sick and hospitalized, he wondered how sad she would be if she didn't have her brother, and Kuro went hard.

The boy took out a sheet of paper and a pen to write a suicide note and wrote something soft. Facing the suspicious boy who decided to make a decision, Kuro asked a question.

"What is your sister's name?"

"Marilyn."

"What?"

"Oh, yes, Mari. She's Mari."

"Isana Mari. It's a good name."

The boy's pen stopped and the completed suicide note was folded and presented to Kuro.

"Thanks. Well done. Hey, but will you give this to my sister?"

Imagine a little girl crying in a hospital bed, Kuro took a break. The boy ran to Kuro, who was holding his hand to grab that, and said...

"Please. No one else can ask. Because my sister will be alone for the rest of her life..."

When Kuro picked up the letter, the boy stepped back a bit.

He looked at the folded suicide note written in a short time, like a shopping note, and carefully opened it.

Kuro averted his eyes, at the thing that jumped into his sight.

"What is this?!"

When he raised his face, the boy opened a red umbrella and had a round object in his hand, be it a bomb or a firework.

Before Kuro could recover from his surprise, the boy dropped the round object in his hand onto the concrete and turned his back on it.

Frush! An intense light flooded the rooftop. Kuro closes his eyes and covers his face with his arms.

When the light that had lasted for a few seconds faded and Kuro opened his eyes, there was no one there.

The brochure the boy was looking at next to it is fluttering and rolling. It was a brochure from a store called "BAR Marilyn", depicting a shameful woman with her skirt up.

Kuro stood still and silent for a while as the wind ruffled his long hair.

Once found, Kuro ran down the ladder into the building, with a strong determination to strike and slash without question.

++++++++++

Kusanagi had decided not to choose the media that day.

Kusanagi looked at the vehicle that was parked. The interior of the car has been remodeled to make it a temporary information room filled with PC devices.

"How's the 'bounty announcement' going?"

"I'll upload it right now!"

Akagi answered Kusanagi's question and hit the "Enter" key on the computer.

The video of the criminal boy who was still on the huge monitor in front of the Shizume-cho station was changed and the announcement began to flow.

In the vehicle, the PDA of the member of "Homura", who is the reception desk at the same time, begins to ring.

"Yes, this is 'Homura'. Are you the person providing the information?"

"Oh, yes. Ten million. What? It's not a lie. Would you mind not speaking ill of us?"

Seeing Akagi and his friends busy, Kusanagi climbed onto the ladder attached to the back of the truck and looked up at the ceiling.

Talk to Anna, a girl in a red dress, sitting on the roof of the vehicle and looking at the map seriously.

"Did you find something, Anna?"

On the map Anna looked at, several red marbles roll by themselves.

Anna stared at the marbles without responding for a while. Kusanagi silently watches over his whereabouts so as not to disturb her concentration.

Finally, the rolling marbles gathered in a certain place and stopped.

"Here."

There was immediate reaction to the group call from the online criminal search members.

“This is a clue! I get it. I'll go immediately!"

The violent voice that answered is Yata's. It seems that he has come a long way, perhaps due to the regret that the black dog has rid himself of the criminal in front of his.

"I went into an alley that is not on the map, hahaha."

"Don't laugh, stupid!"

“Understood… This is Kamamoto. Hmm... I can't let go of my hands, and a little more... Ah, add fried rice!"

"Don't buy any more food!"

"Hey, who are you? What did you say about "Homura"?"

"Ah, is there someone who has made a fool of 'Homura'? Put a marker in the place, we go immediately!"

Kusanagi laughed bitterly as he smoked a cigarette and listened to the loud exchanges of the members.

“Search correctly. Ah, I don't know what to do with the black dog. I can´t help you. Kusanagi, over and out."

Kusanagi sighed slightly after leaving the group call despite Yata's unhappy voice.

"It's not okay, they're just kids."

++++++++++

Kuro was angry.

After all, he couldn't sympathize with the evil "King" and should hate that heinous assassin, Kuro bit his immaturity.

"I'm sorry, Ichigen-sama. However, tonight, I, Yatogami Kuro, am sure that I will fulfill my mission."

To be continued soon... Be patient, I will translate the chapter little by little.

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junker-town · 7 years

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NFL Dad, Week 17: Good riddance to the Ravens, Seahawks, and 2017

On the final day of the year, one NFL fan tried to watch all of the RedZone action while parenting two toddlers.

It’s fitting that the NFL season came to a close on New Year’s Eve. After the Week 17 games, every team will start with a clean slate — either vying for the Lombardi Trophy in the playoffs, or taking stock of what went wrong and planning for 2018. Coaches will be fired, management restructured, free agents signed, hopes laid upon draftees. Injured players will return stronger than ever, and you’ll take this opportunity to improve yourself, too. Exercise more. Eat better. Work harder. A fresh start for all!

It’s a lie, of course. Unless a franchise has recently fired Jeff Fisher, a team will only take incremental steps forward or backward. Sure, there are exceptions: One or two teams will experience huge leaps in the win column thanks to turnover luck and positive results in close games, and those teams’ fans will be CERTAIN that it was the result of effort and superior coaching, and not the random providence of luck, destined to regress to the mean.

The truth is, the calendar is the only thing that’s changed. We can experience temporary improvements, but most of us are destined to regress to our personal means. And NFL teams are the same: Your team is unlikely to improve dramatically.

But the NFL monolith will scrape forward nonetheless. Your favorite players will get injured. People will complain about the refs. The Patriots will go 12-4. 2018 is the same hell as 2017, just fresher.

EARLY GAMES, FIRST HALF

— It’s a tame early slate. Bears-Vikings, Jets-Pats, and Browns-Steelers are the only games with playoff implications, and that’s being generous. The (heavy) favorites in those games only have minor jockeying for bye weeks and top-2 conference seeding. I’m saving most of my attention span for the late games.

— A common theme for many of the early games is the extreme cold hitting much of the country. Players wear extra layers, helmets shrink, and Jets quarterbacks live out the metaphors of their station in life.

Inspiring start for Bryce Petty and the Jets http://pic.twitter.com/3t9LvfGCxb

— Pete Blackburn (@PeteBlackburn) December 31, 2017

— My wife and I rented a car to take our kids to my sister’s place for a couple days after Christmas, with a stop along the way to see old friends. And I’m not going to relive the entire journey, but I will offer one unpleasant travel snapshot: Experiencing carsickness from constantly torquing my neck and back around to fruitlessly attempt to soothe two toddlers completely unaccustomed to car travel as snarled traffic turned a 3.5-hour car trip into a 6.5-hour cry-a-thon.

The lesson I refuse to learn: NEVER. GO. ANYWHERE.

The lesson I refuse to learn as a parent of young children: NEVER. GO. ANYWHERE.

— James Harrison is making his debut for the Patriots, and some Steelers fans are aghast. I don’t quite get the surprise. When Harrison was cut by the Steelers in 2013, he signed with the division rival Bengals. He also had a stint with the Ravens after being on the Steelers’ practice squad early in his career. This is James Harrison we’re talking about. He’s not a paragon of virtue loyal to the black and yellow; he’s a vindictive maniac who has dedicated his entire life to hitting people. Of COURSE he went to the Steelers’ biggest rival this year.

— Juju Smith-Schuster’s touchdown celebration gets an A for joyous creativity, and a D for snowball packing.

— It’s 2:15 p.m. and my son is awake at least 45 minutes earlier than my wife and I would like. He only ever takes 90-minute naps now. My daughter at his age would regularly sleep for three hours in the afternoon. Hell, she still sleeps longer in the afternoon than he does, and she’s twice his age. Sleep longer, you adorable goblin! You’re tired!

— The Bears score a touchdown on the famous fake where the punt returner feigns tracking the ball on one side of the field while a second player catches it on the other side of the field. Long live this explainer on why the play is so unstoppable.

— Dallas and Philadelphia are tied 0-0 at the half. Someone named Jeff Sudfeld is playing quarterback for the Eagles. Nick Foles is too valuable for the Eagles’ playoff run!

Last reminder of the year: (extremely long sigh) Any team in the NFL could have signed Colin Kaepernick on the cheap.

EARLY GAMES, SECOND HALF

— The Colts attempt a surprise onside kick, and there appears to be an end-of-year fire sale on trick plays. If I were a coach about to get fired, you can bet your ass I would throw every unused page in the playbook at an opponent in Week 17: Fake punts, surprise onside kicks, hook-and-laterals, Fumblerooskis — the trick plays would get the defense so on edge for the trick plays that they would get knocked over by power runs.

And then I would be fired.

— Much of what I do on a week-to-week basis has already been collected, with much more brevity, in this piece of service journalism: Every dumb thing that happened in NFL Week 17. (No bits about parenting there, though.)

— Eight minutes into the third quarter, the Giants and Washington are a combined three-for-19 on third downs. It’s hard for me to express how much I’m enjoying not watching that game.

Instead, I’m watching these bad bartending videos:

youtube

There’s a whole series of those that are equally confounding, and they are either the stupidest videos on YouTube or the subtlest troll jobs I’ve ever seen.

As someone who’s been absorbing online culture as a job for more than a decade, it’s rare for me to find something like this inscrutable. Hundreds of dollars for a full bar, but no muddler? The totally incapable but somehow believable bartender? The pint glass of whiskey? This is a ruse, right? I refuse to be anyone’s mark.

— A fun new thing I have since the round-trip car voyage is a semi-permanent eye tic. Just a tiny little muscle spasm on my lower left eyelid that’s like, “Hey, remember that time you were trapped in a rolling box of stress for six hours? Twice?” Look for it on SB Nation’s YouTube channel in 2018.

Hey, remember that time you were trapped in a rolling box of stress for six hours?

— My wife leaves to walk the dog right as the early games wind down. Because we’re keeping our children out of the Arctic blast, I stay back with both kids. My son immediately grabs the iPad off the table and shoves his face into it.

“I want Elsa,” my daughter says, so I play “Let It Go” on Spotify and pull up an image of Elsa for her to look at while the song plays. Frozen is the next horizon for us after Moana. I’m fine with this eventuality, but Moana definitely has the superior story and soundtrack. The important thing is that they’re both better than the 50 years of Disney princess movies that came before. GAHHHH WHY DO I SPEND SO MUCH TIME THINKING ABOUT DISNEY CARTOONS?

— The Browns, despite their best effort against the Steelers’ B-team, finish their season 0-16. Congratulations?

— Because all nine (!!!) late games start at 4:25 p.m. Eastern, RedZone’s Scott Hanson must deal with an action-less lull that’s unusual for so early in the day. It’s 4:15 and RedZone is running highlights, snippets of press conferences, and fantasy updates. And come on: I know the segment is sponsored, no self-respecting fantasy league is active in Week 17. Much like Le’Veon Bell.

LATE GAMES, FIRST HALF

— GAME TIME. My focus today is Panthers-Falcons, Saints-Bucs, and Cardinals-Seahawks. I want the Seahawks to win to stay alive for a playoff spot, and I need the Panthers to be motivated to beat the Falcons, which means I need Tampa Bay to give the Saints a fight, which means the Seahawks are probably going to miss the playoffs. Which, frankly, is probably better than getting blown out by the Rams or Saints on Wild Card Weekend. Everything is meaningless, by the way.

— Ah crap, Arizona opens the game with a touchdown. Drew Stanton escapes Michael Bennett on what could have been a 15-yard sack, buying enough time to throw a TD pass instead. I am going to hate today.

Tyler Lockett returns the ensuing kickoff for a touchdown to tie the game. I am already closing off all emotion to deal with whatever happens for the next three hours.

— In Tampa, the Bucs score game-opening TD. Yay! But then Alvin Kamara returns the ensuing kickoff for a TD. I NEED EVERYONE TO SETTLE DOWN, PLEASE.

— The kids are at the dinner table, alternately painting with watercolors and screaming. My son, whose relentless teething continues, takes a sip of water from the cup he’d been dipping his paintbrush in. My daughter, who has recovered from a double ear infection over Christmas only to get ANOTHER ear infection, has a Moana-themed coloring book. I read her the plot point that goes with each picture as another Panthers drive stalls. COME ON, CAM.

— The Niners are dominating early and up 10-0, but a Jimmy Garoppolo INT sets the Rams up in the red zone. However, the Niners D holds firm, and the Rams are forced to kick a field goal.

— Oh, hello there, AFC. I understand there are some stakes in your conference today, too, hmmm? In Los Angeles, where the Chargers need a win and some help to secure a playoff spot, Melvin Gordon fumbles, but Keenan Allen scoops up the fumble for an awesome TD.

Wait. WHAT?! Gordon loses it. Allen recovers. And SCORES. #Chargers http://pic.twitter.com/PQ59L012NB

— NFL (@NFL) December 31, 2017

My feelings on the four AFC teams vying for two Wild Card spots, ranked by preference:

Chargers. I know they deserve nothing but misery for leaving San Diego, but this team is genuinely fun to watch. Philip Rivers has been incredible this year, and Keenan Allen has stayed healthy! Melvin Gordon is great and likable! The defense has the kind of scary pass rush that can enable a deep playoff run (read: can knock Tom Brady and Ben Roethlisberger on their asses).

Bills. I hate tables.

Titans. This is one of the least inspiring winning teams I’ve seen in a long time, which is what it’s been since RedZone last clicked over to the Seattle game. Who has ever looked at the AFC South and said, “Yes, this division needs TWO playoff teams.”

Ravens. I strenuously object to Joe Flacco’s existence. If the Ravens offense touches your field, the earth there will be fallow for seven years.

— My kids, still sitting at the table, dance to “Twist and Shout” like two little Elaine Beneses, a brief moment of cheer before the Cardinals punch in another touchdown to take a 17-7 lead over the Seahawks. But the dancing! It’s so herky-jerky and devoid of coordination — like Seattle’s offensive line, but happy.

— What was I saying about the Chargers’ fearsome defense? On third and 22, Derek Carr unloads a bomb to Amari Cooper for an 87-yard touchdown.

EIGHTY-SEVEN YARDS!@DerekCarrQB to @AmariCooper9 for SIX! #RaiderNation http://pic.twitter.com/GLf0Q7bAva

— NFL (@NFL) December 31, 2017

My wife tells my daughter that the Raiders are Uncle Sean’s favorite team. “Can you say the Raiders?” she asks.

Daughter: “The Raid-ahhhhhs.” Chris Berman’s tics are much better when they’re done by toddlers.

— I get a text from Steven Godfrey, SB Nation’s excellent college football reporter who is also doomed to an existence of Falcons fandom. It is to me and Brian Floyd, our managing editor who is also a Seahawks fan: “Please God take this wildcard spot.”

Floyd and I both reject any desire to see these Seahawks in the playoffs. It feels good to own the feeling, to want a different team in a new season instead of watching this one for another week.

— Here is the first RedZone play featuring the Ravens offense that I see: Joe Flacco throws a one-yard crossing route to a running back, who drops the ball. A graphic pops up that says it is the Ravens’ fifth dropped pass of the day. Put this offense in a rocket and fire it into the deepest reaches of space.

— Philip Rivers throws another deep bomb for a touchdown. God, this team belongs in the playoffs, and they’re not going to make it because the first quarter of their season was a grotesque monkey’s paw retribution inflicted by the San Diego city council.

— The Saints attempt a fake field goal, the Bucs don’t fall for it, and Wil Lutz gets CRUSHED. If you ask me, there are simply not enough punters getting blown up by defenders in today’s NFL. (Miss you, Sean Taylor.)

Not enough punters are getting blown up in today’s NFL.

— A big hit in the Ufford household these days is the Daddy Monster. I become my alter ego, roar, and chase my son into the corner where I tickle him and pretend to eat him. “OM NOM NOM!” I say.

He stands up and says, “Naan naan naan!” in his little voice. I feign terror and let him chase me. I hope you didn’t take what I said about the car ride and the eye tic too seriously, because parenting is great.

— Breaking news: The Colts have fired Chuck Pagano. So we’re doing away with Black Monday now? Just getting it out of the way on Sunday?

— I change my son’s poopy diaper. But don’t think of it as poop! It’s more like his butt threw up.

— Flacco watch:

Flacco 3/16 says "Hey remember that time I won a Super Bowl?" http://pic.twitter.com/pvaQG3RKhs

— James Dator [waiting for recognition] (@James_Dator) December 31, 2017

— HALFTIME SCORES:

The Seahawks trail at home 20-7, their only score a kickoff return TD. Burn this season to the ground.

Chargers lead the Raiders 20-10 despite having a FG and PAT blocked. Very on-brand.

Carolina and Atlanta are tied 7-7.

Buffalo leads Miami 10-0. David Fales has replaced Jay Cutler, who is riding a jet ski pantsless to the nearest bank with a boat-thru teller to cash his game check. I am gonna miss that guy so much.

Only a missed extra point is keeping the Bucs from being even with the Saints. New Orleans leads 14-13. Get inspired, Carolina!

Titans 12, Jags 3. Jacksonville trails because its defensive and special teams units have struggled to score touchdowns.

49ers 20, Rams 6. If anything, this score is flattering for the Rams. San Fran-Clara will be a chic pick to win the NFC West next year.

An 85(ish)-yard kickoff return with seconds left in the half gifts Baltimore with a touchdown that cuts the Cincinnati lead to 17-10. C’mon Bengals, don’t Bengal this one.

LATE GAMES, SECOND HALF

— I make a vow to myself: The Seahawks have one possession, the first of the half, to keep me interested in the result of their game, and even then … BARELY. Naturally, the run game comes to life, Russell Wilson connects on a pass, and this appears to be a crude approximation of a drive.

— Shady McCoy is carted off. Screw this season.

— I help with the end of the kids’ bath time. My son, who hates getting out of the bath, sits in tub as the water empties. “Fee-oh,” he says, for frio, because my children are dual-language geniuses. I let him chill there while I peek at the TV; I’m just in time to see Doug Baldwin score a touchdown that narrows the score to 20-14.

The next drive — at least, the next drive I catch a glimpse of — Shaquill Griffin intercepts a Drew Stanton overthrow, and I now feel confident that the Seahawks can get a comeback victory, only for the Falcons to lock down the last playoff spot with a win. (With the Panthers trailing 10-7, Cam Newton promptly throws a terrible interception.)

— The Saints have been a little shaky for the last month of the season, but I could definitely endorse Alvin Kamara destroying the entire playoff field. Look at him make a contested catch downfield:

Oh my goodness, @A_kamara6. #GoSaints http://pic.twitter.com/4bLIJaPrzI

— NFL (@NFL) December 31, 2017

That drive ends in a field goal, and the Saints lead 17-13.

— Ravens WR Chris Moore bobbles a red zone pass, which is intercepted and returned for a touchdown. The Bengals lead 24-10, and I am HERE for the season implosion.

Yes, that is Joe Flacco's pick-six. http://pic.twitter.com/Utx1SfhBP3

— Seth Walder (@SethWalder) December 31, 2017

— The Bucs force a fumble on a punt return and return it for a touchdown! The used coffee grounds of the NFC South are ahead of the division leaders, 20-14.

— With the Seahawks trailing 23-14, they definitely could use a field goal to make it a one-score game. Instead:

Thomas Rawls' taunting penalty cost the Seahawks 15 yards and likely cost them three points as well.

— Brady Henderson (@BradyHenderson) December 31, 2017

— With the Tennessee leading 15-3 in the fourth quarter, all the Titans have to do is bleed clock and let Blake Bortles throw it to their defense. Instead, Marcus Mariota and Derrick Henry collide on a handoff, and the Jaguars return the fumble for a touchdown.

I just checked, and the Jaguars have seven defensive touchdowns this year. That’s a lot, but I could have sworn it was more. Like, if you told me that Bortles had thrown as many touchdowns as the defense scored, I would have believed you. But Bortles had 21 passing TDs (to 13 picks); the NFL works in mysterious ways.

— I pause RedZone to put the kids to bed. I read my son Good Night Moon because he freaking LOVES seeing the moon. “MOON! MOON! MOON!” every time there’s a moon on the page of a book. As I read the last page — “Good night noises everywhere” — he puts his finger to his lips and says, “Shhhh.”

I offer him a choice of second books but he olds up Good Night Moon again. So I read it a second time, but with four pages to go, he shuts the book and says, “All done!” Oh, I’m sorry. Did you perhaps already know how it ends?

— Twenty minutes later, the kids are in bed and I’m back in front of the TV, but I don’t have the energy or desire to watch everything I missed, so I just skip to live TV. The biggest news is that the Panthers have farted their way around the second half to lose to the Falcons by two scores, rendering the Seahawks game pointless. Or more pointless than usual, at least.

And the Panthers should be kicking themselves over that performance: With nine seconds remaining in Tampa, the Bucs score a go-ahead touchdown that gives them a meaningless win and leads to a super-awkward unfriendly never-ending handshake between Sean Payton and Dirk Koetter. The Panthers will go on the road to face the Saints instead of hosting them next weekend.

— The Titans lock up a playoff spot with their win over the Jaguars. When it comes to the other Wild Card spot, the Bills win, but they need help from the Bengals, who have lost their lead in Baltimore. Ravens ahead 27-24.

— Oh, the Seahawks lost, too. Blair Walsh missing a 48-yarder to lose a game that couldn’t save their season is the perfect ending to this campaign. (I may have been miserable watching the Seahawks this season, but they were also an effective kicker away from being 12-4.)

— The last game of the RedZone season is Bengals-Ravens, and my remaining hopes and dreams rest on ... an Andy Dalton drive? Oh Jesus, where’s the liquor?

— On 4th and 12 near midfield, the Bengals season is about to sputter and die, and I’m beginning to accept the Ravens beating Kansas City when DALTON COMPLETES THE PASS! TYLER BOYD SLIPS A TACKLE AND GETS TO THE END ZONE!!!

THE @BENGALS! TOUCHDOWNNNN! WOW. #Bengals50 http://pic.twitter.com/NB78jk9U2a

— NFL (@NFL) January 1, 2018

YEAAAAAGGGHHHHH I COULD LIFT A VOLKSWAGEN OVER MY HEAD RIGHT NOW

— With a chance to respond, Joe Flacco quickly leads the Ravens to zero first downs and 4th and 14, at which point he completes a pass eight yards short of the first-down marker. GOOD RIDDANCE, GARBAGE BIRDS.*

And good riddance, 2017. Here’s to marginal improvements in 2018.

*insult also applicable to the author’s team of choice

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