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aniqua · 7 months ago

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error: 0v3rr1d3 | yandere!qimir x cyborg!reader

✧content: 18+ mdni, f!reader, smut, angst, death, blood, character death, flashbacks, flashfowards, existentialism?, unreliable narrators and crazy epiphenies, drowning, osha going through the ringer, p in v, cockwarmth, blowing, creme pie, worshipping qimir, second fiddle feelings

✧note: it's been real fun to make qimir a loser, robot fucker.

✧word count: 6.2K

✧series masterlist

“You promised that we would go.” You’d spent the last thirty minutes pressing Qimir to explain the change in plan.

“That was before yesterday's incident,” Qimir sighed as he arranged boxes. The day prior to this exchange, Qimir spent his time in a sticky sweat as he ran through the city for some outside help. With you resting on his back, you were relegated to hearing his terrified breaths that were a result of your condition. It had chosen to be at its worst that day and although you spent the end of the day in a better condition, you didn't miss the way Qimir looked as you clugged onto his arm as he walked you home with a fixed hold on your hand that didn't even budge when you slept with him that night.

“I'm better now,” you told him. "That was the first time that ever happened anyway," you defended with crossed arms.

“You hoping to go for a second time?” he asked sarcastically.

He was closing up the shop earlier than most days for the festivities that were to be indulged in that night. You looked on without your usual offer to help--not like he'd accept. The entire week ranged from uneventful to horrendous at its worst but the highlight of it for you was supposed to be to celebrate the planet’s two moons aligning like the planet did every year. Despite this, Qimir was giving you a last-minute rejection that you were refusing to stomach this time around.

“I’ll be fine,” you tried appealing to his unquenchable desire to nurture. “And if not, you'll take care of me like you always do. Hm?”

Qimir fought hard to ignore that he loved the way you spoke. It pleaded to the nights he spent thinking of every way he could make you better. He was fighting to keep you a permanent painting in his home and refused to lose to simple battles like hereditary curses.

However, for all the pride he felt in his chest, Qimir set a box down and walked toward you. His hazy eyes gave you a once-over just as he took your tender face in his hands. He said, “I'm not taking that risk.”

Your frown deepened as you pulled your face out of his hands for the comfort of the cold air, “Why don’t you let me do anything?” He could see the way your brows upturned in vulnerability with your wet eyes to match as your pupils went wider. If he could, he would have taken you right then and there for how malleable you looked.

“I don't do it out of enjoyment. But I'll put your health first every time. Even above what I want," he was pretending to play the good guy like he wasn't a shut-in who would have stayed home during the festivities actually long before your time.

“And above me?” you challenged.

“[Name],” he sighed.

“You’re cursing me to live like this,” you pressed him at his weak spot.

“Cursed?” he laughed bitterly to himself. He brought his hands to his hip as he gave you a stare that reminded you of the initiating stance of a predator. “I’ve done everything to make sure you even live past the next moon alignment--”

“And if I have to live like this then I'd rather be dead,” you spoke with unwavering declaration. Months of quietly obliging with the occasional treat to keep you at bay only made your desertification more apparent to you.

"Careful," he murmured with a still face that was so unreadable. He backed you into the counter just to further cage you with both of his arms on both sides. You looked up at him as you pressed further into the counter to avoid meeting his chest. The edge of the counter he held onto bent at his grip as you spent most of your time grasping at fleeting courage.

“It's not like you get a say in that either," he told you. If you were so struck by the painful beauty of his face at such an odd time, you would have let out a meager cry in surrender.

After getting his fill, Qimir stepped back from you to retreat upstairs. It was expected that you’d spend the rest of your time downstairs to blow off steam before returning to the living room begrudgingly for dinner. Qimir hadn’t exactly made it to the front door of your home before he remembered that he needed to lower the shutters over the shop for this special weekend in case some got too excited. It was when he returned to the ground floor that he no longer saw you there. You disappeared as if he never met you, to begin with.

He called your name and watched his voice echo in real-time. That's when he knew he was alone. Once his call bounced back he nearly lept over the counter and went sprinting out the door.

By the time he'd burst through the doors and the shop's bell jingled, you already had a head start to the streets as you tried making it to the fairie. Two tickets weighed your bag down as you cut through the roads with as much force as you could among those who were already starting festivities. The way the shops were decorated with ribbons and flags would have been beautiful if you couldn’t hear the growing distant call of your name in the distance.

As you carried on fighting you picked up your pace hoping that a miracle would come through before Qimir would catch up to you but your prayer wasn’t even sent before you felt your strength waning until the wind blew out your candle and had the ground swallow you. You should have known better than to exert so much after being given only a day of recovery but you assumed that your passion would make up for your health. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough because you went collapsing like the first drop of truth in the middle of the street. You could hear Qimir calling your name and the low hum of the crowd in surprise.

A week passed where you didn't speak to Qimir and you thought it would help in the tension brewing but the distance felt treacherous. Every day that passed leading up to the seventh day would be you waking up on the outskirts of the planet in a cabin that once belonged to him but was passed down to his acolyte. The last thing he said to you as he passed you over to Osha before his journey to find a better solution for your illness was he thought it would suit you better to behave. Instead of a private farewell that should have been exchanged kisses, the journey to the cabin was silent.

Far from it was Osha to question her master but it didn’t help how little in detail she was given before he appeared on her doorstep asking her to watch over you. She was given half of the truth while you were given the whole lie that Osha would sooner drag you back to the cabin before you'd make it past a few trees.

Before your arrival, she chose to spend her time training until their next operation but instead of a new Jedi to target, Osha was assigned to babysitter while being left entirely in the dark. Still, she trusted Qimir when he said to guard you with her life as he went off.

From your perspective, the specifities of what Osha was told were unclear but you weren’t willing to try to pry when your last act of disobedience landed you concession from meeting the ground and unwanted attention that could have ended with the wrong people asking the right questions. So, in your time of vacationing–you told yourself this to lighten the mood–you didn’t even ask about Qimir until a few days after a week had come and he still hadn’t returned for you. This concerned you so you went running your mouth to Osha since it was all you could do to keep yourself calm and not fear that he had finally abandoned you for an easier problem to fix.

“Have you heard from him?” you asked.

She shook your head. “I can still feel him," she admitted as she ate.

You didn't know each other well but you wanted to press further even if it meant her frustration. “Anything else?” you said.

“Look, you’ve been asking me the same question for three days. He’ll be fine," she put her spoon down and looked up at you. "You’ve seen how he disappears for weeks just pop back up. It’s no different now."

You fiddled with your thumbs as you said. “So this is normal?” You didn't have the slightest clue as to what she meant.

“What," she laughed in disbelief "Qimir hasn’t fucked off for weeks to you?"

If you had any type of distance from him, you would have laughed with her but you hadn’t so you said the truth.

“No,” you confessed. “He’s never gone more than an afternoon away,” you said. “Which is why I’m so nervous because that last time he came back he didn't look good.”

That admission had Osha questioning how well you truly knew him.

“What took you so long?” Osha asked Qimir as he held onto his bag.

“I’m back now,” was all he was going to say but the look Osha gave him made him feel stupid. “Came across some trouble on the way back so I had to stall. I’d hate for anyone to be following me to lead them to here.”

“So you stole that," she stated the obvious while nodding toward his bag that looked packed with some things that were none of her business.

"It doesn't matter--"

Osha wasn't in the mood to banter as they stood a few paces from the cabin in the dead of night. "You let three weeks go by for her. It felt like she was gonna start chewing glass if you didn't show up tonight,” she said,

“Nothing, she’s not used to,” he said as he rifled through his bag to straighten a few things out. Maybe that's why he didn't realize that he and Osha were talking about two different things.

“So she’s home a lot huh,” she met him where he was in the conversation. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

“It keeps her safe.”

“From you?”

Qimir swallowed.

“Whatever happened to no romance to keep this exact thing from happening,” she threw the rule back in her master's face while gesturing at his lover fast asleep in the cabin. “You bring danger to your doorstep every time you come back home so there's no point in keeping her there?” If only she knew the other half of the problem to chastise him for that as well.

Osha watched him with judgemental eyes with the complete silence in between them. Leave it to her to be the one to hold a mirror up to Qimir as he would conceive of a flawed plan. She was ready to ask him if it was worth it. Interrogate him about having you put your life in a strange form of witness protection all in the name of a lonely man who couldn't just let a bird go. That was until some was rustling nearby. The kind of twig snap that didn’t come from a small animal but a clumsy vulture. Osha and Qimir both turned their heads to the sound as they already had a grasp on their lightsabers. They waited with held breaths in the quiet night.

Even though both moons illuminated the forest, something felt off with the way the area had gone motionless. Qimir would have left the idea alone if you weren’t inside.

The hum of a lightsaber that wasn't theirs was the warning shot that set everything into motion. They almost didn't see it coming but were even more surprised to find seven Jedi that had been tailing him since they got the first tip-off of his movement when he'd jumped from another planet with a fortune's worth of medicines and no clear explanation.

When you woke up, at the sound of a cry, you couldn’t chalk up the thud coming from the outside to the result of an interesting passerby.

So you stirred out of your comfort zone and started for the exit of the cabin when you said Osha's name and she didn't respond. She was a late sleeper.

As you came out of your sleep your fresh ears were finally registering the growing sound of a fight. Your hands carefully pushed the doors of the cabin that led you to a cold night. Although the stars and moon were the only things that were keeping the beyond from looking pitch black, it was still a horrifying sight to look into the abyss and see two red lightsabers spinning in self-defense.

When your eyes landed on Qimir for the first item in three weeks, your thoughts were interrupted as you got tunnel vision. He was fighting for his life in a dance between him and Osha against the Jedi. Yet all you could see was him as you burst through the cabin doors and went running after the only certainty you had even when this was the first time you’d ever seen him use the force.

“Qimir!” You cried. You threw all the arguments that you had with him aside and went racing with nothing but your heart in your hands.

Qimir looked up first as he saw you coming down from the hill. “Go!” he said.

It was rare to see him look so scared and even rarer to be the result of anyone but you so you stuttered in your tracks. Your hesitance was caught who was determined to make sure no one could testify to them breaking their mantra of never attacking first. As he immediately locked eyes with you, you started for the other way hoping to at least lighten the load of attacks on Osha and Qimir even if it was by one person.

You didn’t look back once as you went cutting into the woods like a shot call. Your feeble state lets an onslaught of rushing adrenaline fuel your heart enough for it to pump your system faster. The forest stood by and watched as you kept looking back in fear until you dove behind a fallen tree to catch your breath and adjust from the dizziness in your head. You knew you couldn’t run for long even high off of your need to fight.

It was hard to miss the sound of footsteps as they steadily grew until they felt close enough to be your own shadow. So you fisted a large rock in your hand enough to bleed and threw it as hard as you could in another direction. Just as the beast went chasing after his own tail you began blasting off in the other direction until you broke through a clearing that was the edge of the cliff.

It’s not something your mind registered in the darkness until you heard the sound of unrelenting water. You made the effort to stop but you were seconds too late as the dirt slid just enough to lose your footing and go diving through the air. Crashing into the rushing water felt nothing like liquid and more like solid ice.

Your land was only cushioned by the rapid water that would have been your savior if it didn’t send you along with the river to hit every rock and broken log on your way downstream. It was siphoning off your adrenaline to leave you to fend for yourself.

Your hands kept closing and opening as you tried to reach for something to stop the tornado. The tiring fight to find someway to steady yourself ended up with you carrying a belly full of water in a blind panic each time the water hit your face. This repeated as you were repeatedly baptized by waves until the water in your belly was enough to have you sinking to the bottom of the river.

When Qimir washed up on the shore onto the shore, he was choking on everything but the items at the bottom of the river and the dirt embedded into the water. You were right beside him as he shivered from the wind that made the water unbearably cold. However, you didn’t need to shiver to maintain your body heat since there were goosebumps rising from your skin as you layed motionless beside him. It wasn’t like you couldn’t feel the biting chill of that night. It was just that you didn’t have any strength left to go running after heat.

At least that’s what you thought of it as, until you weren’t looking up at the night sky of the night but rather at the pitch back of your eyelids that were too heavy to open even as you fought for days to try. You existed in a state of in-between where your body was still but your mind was still active at times as it came and went like running water.

So you meandered in this state of being as the world moved on.

Throughout the swift passage of time you stayed frozen as you could only listen to the voices of anger, guilt, and resentment give you a description of events through a tinted gaze that explained the past and present.

You were there against the shore of the rushing river and heard every cry of anguish as Qimir cut through bones and blood in the heat of his anger. The red screams of the attackers splattered against the bark, foliage, and rocks of their surroundings until all that was left were parts scattered across the woods like chicken feed. Osha looked on entirely stunned as she tried to resuscitate you. She saw in real time how her master had burned every lesson in dignified death he taught her in exchange for a punishment that was tenfold the crime.

For you, when the feeling of the ground was replaced by the cold surface of a healer's bed, you still refused to wake up. You heard the promises and threats he made as he went to every length he could to pull you back to the world of the living until you sank back under and remerged to him bringing you back home place to figure out what deal he had to make to bring you back to life.

“I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” his voice was barely louder than the machine that kept track of the rhythm of your pulse. “Osha’s here.” You wanted to tell him to come back and stay with you since you liked the way he fixed your hair and played with your hands when he thought no one was there.

It was hard to tell the exact amount of days that passed without the rare clue you got from the conversations you overheard. You remained in the dark for most things but didn’t miss the inevitable march toward unshakable madness that Qimir experienced in your presumed absence.

You heard the apologies he gave you with promises to fix you until you memorized each promise like a blessed hymn. He found a permanent place in your room to reside until you would come to expect the sound of him rising and finally sleeping.

“Qimir,” Osha’s voice had come through from the upstage. “I think it’s time,” she said. If he said something, you didn’t hear it. “You’ve done your best during all these months but it’s time to consider the best option,” Osha told him.

“The best option is to bring her back,” he was unwavering in the way he spoke even if he sounded weak.

“How?” The silence that followed was loud enough to make it clear that he didn’t have the answer. “We must know when to move forward. Just like you taught me,” she said.

“Then move on.” He was stern. “Don’t let my dedication burden you,” he hissed. “You no longer need to be my acolyte.”

“Your dedication is making you driving you insane,” she punctuated each word as she tried to hide the crack of her voice. “She is practically dead but you’re throwing me aside–”

“Until her heart stops beating she is my responsibility!” It was no mistake how different things felt in your absence but it surprised you how clear he had made his decision. “I suggest you find yourself a new master.”

That’s how you replayed it all in your head. Years after your baptism and months after your crucifixion Qimir had finally married his two ideas into a solution that he was hoping to work. A wise man would never ask him how he did it since it wasn’t through his own hands but after mounting a few bodies and twisting a few arms, every failed part of you was replaced by pieces from the android parts he had collected. A task that blurred all ethics that only Qimir was willing to cross. All he waited for was the day you’d wake up. He let weeks pass by hoping that he’d find you sprung forth and lively.

You were still partially droid which he didn’t understand so through the period of holding his breath and getting lost in the bottom of his bottle, you were coming through every single memory you had, especially of him, and processing them for analysis in the part of your brain that was connected to your past processor. You returned to every instance as human and every close encounter as android.

You had been given time to reflect on the incoming memories as they passed through you. And when you had come to believe was how ungrateful you were. To not see the unwavering love of Qimir even after he had been abandoned to build your future from scraps until you were nearly resurrected. It all would have gone well if you had not gone running to see what you had forgotten. Now that you had seen it, it was entirely understandable Qimir's aversion to it. You had crossed the river and drowned over and over again as your memories played on a loop like a punishment from purgatory. It wasn’t under your control as your system tried to learn and relearn how to escape death until it came to the conclusion that the best possible outcome would be to not only accept the love you were given but to understand it and reciprocate it in its totality.

“Osha! Osha!” Qimir called from her as he was being held back by the Jedi that were swarming his hideout in Kashyyyk.

His mistake was reaching out to Osha after so much time of silence thinking she’d help him get to the bottom of what was wrong with you this time. Desperate people find faith in the strangest places and he was no exception as he thought she, even with hesitance, would help him find out why he’d done everything right but you refused to power on like all those other times.

Osha ignored his shouts as she looked up at you erected perfectly still enough to build a coffin around you. It felt wrong at first to appeal to the Jedi to apprehend and make an example of her old master but as months went on and she slowly ventured back to the light, a sickness wouldn’t leave as she felt that Qimir was likely still home jumping from healer to architect as he tried to bring you back like a lunatic.

She hadn’t seen him in a year but it felt more like a decade as she saw how long his hair had gotten when he was seized. The smile he gave her when he thought they were all alone wasn’t devoid of years of stress but it had a slight familiarity to it that almost made her go back on the plan. If Qimir wasn’t so busy with everything that had to do with you, he probably would have picked up on the presence of others closing in on him from the shadows of the trees.

The once enthusiastic acolyte wasn’t there to see the multiple iterations of you as an android so she would never be a true believer in the miracle. Conceivably, she wouldn’t have led the Jedi to Qimir’s home if she knew. Yet, she didn’t and she likely never would. All Qimir had given her to work with when she returned was scattered and disassembled android parts with you decorated in new parts that only had their backstories told by roomers. To her, this was inhumane.

“How could you?” she turned and said to him as he violently thrashed against the restraints the Jedi gave him.

“Osha, don’t!” he could already see that she was preparing to reach for the panel that controlled your station to shut it off. There was some apparent hesitancy as his hands danced around the button that would lead to the computer to begin to power off and terminate all systems including itself.

“No! N-no! STOP!”

The cries of your lover were tormenting to even the creator of the anguish. The pain in his voice was so concentrated that it could not be ignored by any of those who were there to witness it. It was exactly the call to heaven that woke you up out of your processing and had you open your eyes for the first time since you had glitched so poorly that he took your battery away. In wide-eyed disbelief, Osha froze as she saw your eyes start to open and take in your surroundings.

To you, she didn’t look much older but instead younger from her naivete of what she had brought herself into. You saw him make an effort to step back. From across the room, the two Jedi who held onto Qimir and the three who guarded the two were just as confused as to what they were witnessing. It wasn’t like machines hadn’t been brought together with flesh before but to see someone rise from what appeared to be death would give pause to anyone. Qimr above everyone else looked like he was staring into the many eyes of an angel for the first time in his life.

The atmosphere in the cave went motionless as you took your first step down from your chamber as a cyborg for the first time. By then, you had already come to a conclusion. With the wisdom of your humanity and the calculation of your machinery, you had decided everyone was a threat to your new goal. Your feet took another step forward to Osha so she said your name in disbelief.

Before she had pushed out the last part to it, you took her blaster and put a hole through the heads of two Jedi without much effort from your self-defense protocol.

Your attacks sent everyone scrambling as you were already holding Osha at gunpoint by the time they realized that you were just as much of a threat as they thought Qimir was.

“Please,” you spoke only to Osha “tell them to leave and I will spare their lives and yours.” The cold, metal barrel made a circle indicating the target that was her temple. You didn’t have the heart to kill her but you wanted her to believe that you would.

As much as Osha was already regretting not just returning to the shadows and never agreeing to work for the Jedi, this case was out of her hands the moment she went running to authority to get some sort of retribution on your behalf.

It didn’t matter though because the unexpected face-off between the remaining Jedi and a hostage gave Qimir the perfect window to steal a lightsaber and begin fighting against three opponents like he once taught Osha to do.

He twisted and landed a kick that slammed into a tree. While that one recovered, he held his own against two lightsabers. All the while, Osha was forced to watch the series of events that would lead her to run back into exile.

It was uncomfortably quick work he made out of the fight. With ease, he reminded his former acolyte about what she missed so much about being under his guidance. When the last body dropped you finally let go of Osha.

“Osha,” Your still expression even raised suspicion in Qimir because of how ambiguous it was as you looked at her. “You are a dear friend.” You stepped forward. “But we should never cross paths again in your lifetime,” you said as you carefully placed her blaster in her shake hands.

That’s when you turned Qimir. His pupils were blown as he watched you come closer until you took his hand. He was certain that he was dead until you brought his hand to your face and closed your eyes to feel him.

The image before Osha was an unfair reward for her unwavering dedication up until that point. She’d put everything into venturing to the dark side and was betrayed by a heart that had found someone to beat for. She would have never guessed that her master was heaven-struck all those years ago but there was nothing she could have done about it even if she was given a vehicle to travel through time. Sure she had a new master but the realization that things were different still hurt the same.

The apologetic look that Qimir and you gave just as you reunited diluted her blood as she had to sit in the choice she made. There was nothing more or less to say as you left her surrounded by dead Jedi as the both of you disappeared like the origins of a folktale.

She let out a scream at some point.

You looked out at the windows of the ship that Qimir managed to secure in the aftermath of your flying your planet. The wealthy smuggler who owed him a favor was the type to live on the ship she gifted. It was your new home now as you searched for another part of the galaxy to hide in until you were ready.

You walked into the control room with the tips of your hair wet from the humidity of the shower. The pitter-patter of your footsteps approached the ship pilot into the control area. He felt your hands slowly slide from his back to his shoulders. You wrapped your arms around his neck until you were resting on his neck while looking out at pools of stars and asteroids. This is how it was in a soothing simplicity.

When he turned around and placed you onto his lap, your upgrades readjusted when your heart picked up. You looked at him with the same wildness that was directly reflected the kind in his.

“Qimir,” you said as you played with his hair.

“Hm?” he was tolling picking between looking at your lashes curtaining your eyes or watching your lips say his name.

“I want,” you paused to get a good look at the face you missed seeing for too long.

He leaned forward in raw anticipation. It caused you to shift as you stayed in place on his lap. You don’t think he noticed how ardent his focus was. “What,” he swallowed. “What do you want?”

As you thought of how you should word your request, his patience dissipated as he chose to kiss feverishly you and pull you closer by your waist. His soft lips were in stark contrast to how roughly he took your lips.

“Let me,” you tried to speak between the moments he would catch his breath to kiss you further. “Be,” you said into his lips, “your acolyte.”

He stopped to watch on in surprise as you played with the hem of his shirt like you hadn’t thrown him across the universe and back. As you were taking off his shirt he was still dazzled by your request.

Like an admirer of a painting, you placed your cold hands on his hot chest to commit the feeling of his skin to memory. Qimir heard his heart pop in his ears. Your hand continued to travel until you were able to find yourself in his pants “Please,” you implored as your hand pulled out his cock and your lips pouted in a plea.

It was unmistakable to you that he was heavens away from where you were as you spoke to him but you still continued to slip out of his lap to sit in between his legs as he remained seated. The way you looked up at him as you took your time to stroke his member made him moan not only for desire but from the sheer ecstasy of your presence. You opened your mouth and found a place at the tip of his cock.

Your head gingerly traveled further down as you felt every vein until as much of him was in you. Qimir felt you suck as you pulled back and it was divine torture. With each bob of your head, you fondled his balls in one hand and stroked the rest of his member that you couldn’t take.

He threw his hand back as his hands seized the armrest of the seat. Each time your tongue circles the slit of his tip, a groan slipped out. His precome was dripping as he gradually got hard enough for it to feel painful. The noises you made as you blew him filled the control room all the while the leather of the armrest tore the cushion contents spilled out. You pulled back for a moment a brought a trail of saliva from his blooming tip to your pink tongue. Nevertheless, he thirstily eagerly guided your return to the back of your head to pick up speed from where you left off.

His words were incoherent as you saw his legs shaking. It was evident that he was reaching his end when his locked eyes burst open as he was begging for air. He let out a heavy load into your mouth as you gaggled.

Ever the impatient man, Qimir was already bending you over in front of the window just as you were catching your breath. The robe you had secured around yourself after a shower already dropped to the floor as he lined himself up to your pussy and pushed himself into you with such consecrated desperation.

He crashed onto your back as he wrapped his arm around your waist to prove you weren't nothing but an apparition. For each time he pulled out and pushed back in, he stayed spilling sweet words into your hair. He was trying to take his time to savor the way your walls held onto him so tightly but it was nearly unthinkable by the seventh kiss.

You felt him slapping in and out of you as your pitiful babbling could on grew in volume. Your processor was working to keep your pulse viable. The sounds of your ass beating against his wet balls were disorienting as you secured your hands onto his hold around your core for support.

“Teach--" You couldn't focus as your breasts bounced along with the rhythm. “Teach me.” Qimir could hear the hunger in your voice. You started pushing back harder so the tip of his member could faithfully bruise your cervix.

Qimir lifted one of your legs and held it in place on the panel to angle himself better. The sound of you continuously saying “please” for so many reasons pushed him to drill you stronger as come trickled down your legs before he had even climaxed for the second time.

“Why?” he asked as he held your face up by holding onto your throat. It wasn’t a challenge but rather a question as to why you wished to go running into this one risk.

You couldn’t answer him as your knees were becoming wobbly from the stimulation until he had to hold you up himself to keep you satisfied.

“Come on,” he encouraged. “Stay with me a little longer.” He said as he kept pounding into you. You could feel the warmth running from your hot head journey down your body and striking every foreign part of you with lightning. You poured over him as you mewled. Your ending came like a waterfall as your juices further lubricated his thrusts to keep him chasing euphoria. By then you were completely spent, calibrating, and just holding onto him to relish the sounds of his gasps.

Once he came inside of you and let his sticky shot leak out through the in-between of the skin of his cock and your folds, you turned around to see him. In the fervor of the aftermath, you pulled into him, with your bare breasts against his chest.

“Give me a chance,” was all you told him with your head against his chest. You wanted to collapse no matter how well-adjusted you were as he kept cockwarming but he held onto you and wiped your sweaty face.

“You don’t need that.” Qimir had a slight blush on his face as he was catching his breath along with you. He intertwined your hand with his and was spiraling up to the cosmos. “I’ve already given it to you. Let me show you the power of two destined souls,” he said.

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#qimir smut #qimir x reader #qimir x y/n #qimir x you #the stranger x reader #manny jacinto x reader #yandere!qimir #yandere #star wars fanfiction #the acolyte reader insert #the acolyte

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gureumz · 2 years ago

Text

if only you knew (that i can see you)

rating: explicit

member: jay

premise: you're enhypen's new manager and it's palpable how instantly this one member takes a liking to you. you're adamant about keeping things professional but he's very persuasive.

notes: fem!reader, dom!jay, slightly dubious consent, dirty talk, mentions of vomiting, unprotected sex, clothed sex, creampie, a quickie (but a very hot one imo), office romance-ish (?), mentions of drinking, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: fourth of my 1k follower special! oh, writer's block is a bitch. one whole month of nothing and i churn this out in one night. big, big apologies if i've become rusty over the past month, but i couldn't get this story out of my head. also, title is by from madame swift's 'i can see you'. please enjoy!

you feel like throwing up. right this minute, right at this very second.

you're fully convinced that you're about to hurl all over your pristine brand-new sneakers, spewing chunks of this morning's breakfast (a single cup of iced coffee) on the company's shiny, newly-waxed floor.

you're moments away from it, you can feel something catch in your throat. this is it, you know this is it. goodbye to your new job, your company benefits, goodbye to this godforsaken earth—

"sorry, are you lost?"

you whip around, eyes wide. towering over you is a man, sharp-featured, lean, and unbelievably handsome.

you swallow, trying to find an answer to give.

"i'm the new assistant manager. sejin-sunbaenim told me to come straight to dance practice room 2," you manage to say with as minimal tremor as you can. the man raises both eyebrows.

"oh, it's you," the handsome stranger says, bowing. "you're ______."

you nod, chest loosening at the sound of your name. so you're in the right place, after all. one less thing to worry about.

"that's me," you confirm, bowing back.

"cool. i'm jay," the man responds with an easy smile. he reaches out and you grasp his hand in yours.

oh, he's so warm.

"i...know," you mumble out, chuckling nervously.

jay grins. he drops your hand, motioning to the door behind you.

"sejin-nim is inside. so are the others," jay informs, reaching over for the door handle. you sidestep, and for a moment, you feel like a nervous bunny, jumping all over the place and flinching at the slightest sound.

in your defense, the last thing you want is to cross any boundaries on your first day.

jay smiles at you again, pulling the door open. "after you."

you blink, momentarily distracted by the dimple on his cheek. you quickly regain your bearings, smiling sheepishly as you step into the room.

you're quickly whisked into a flurry of introductions. each enhypen member seems equally excited, or at least pleased, to meet you. they shake your hand, bow, and greet you with bright, boyish smiles.

you're dazed by the end of it all, but at least you're not thinking about throwing up anymore.

"you have the calendar i shared with you, right?" sejin, your superior, asks after the members have difted off, busying themselves with warm-ups.

you recall the zoom conference you had with sejin a week ago, how you pored over every phone number, email, and address pertinent to your job as enhypen's new manager.

"yes," you answer.

"everything's there. all orange tasks are mine, and all blue ones are kyungjun's. he's not here now, but you'll meet him probably tomorrow. you can pick another color for your tasks in the mean time," sejin explains.

"i'll email you every morning with things i need help with and you can add those to the calendar afterward," he continues. "for today, i just want you to shadow me to see what a typical day looks like for us."

you nod along, occasionally glancing at your phone, the managers' calendar flashed on your screen.

you ignore the way your heart drops when you see the stacks of orange and blue piled on each tile.

as if reading your thoughts, sejin chuckles beside you. "it may look like a lot, but the boys make it easier. they're total professionals."

you laugh along, turning back to the group. your eyes immediately settle on jay who's quick to catch your gaze.

he smiles and you smile back.

---

"________-nim! how was your first day?"

you look up from your phone, momentarily abandoning the email you were composing, an inquiry sejin assigned you to send to a local media franchise. you were on your fifth reread.

you realize with a start that it's jay.

he sets a large paper bag down on the table. you're late to notice the drink carrier he has in his other hand.

"well, however it went, i got you a drink and dinner to commemorate your first day," jay adds, taking one out of the two drinks from the carrier. he slides the cup towards you and your cheeks immediately heat up.

"you didn't have to," you say, laughing nervously. "you're too kind, jay."

jay beams at this. he pushes the paper bag towards you as well.

"this is from all the members," jay informs. "as thanks for working hard today."

before you can reply, jay bows briefly before waving goodbye and walking away.

you stare at the paper bag for a few moments, a weird flutter taking over your body.

---

jay is...strange.

or, at least, you think he's been acting strange.

it's only been a little over a month since your first day. it was easy for you to fall into a routine, seeing as the group is in between promotions. a photoshoot every other day, a pre-recording once a week, dance practice every day after dinner. the most stress you've had so far was when you forgot to phone the van driver about a change in schedule, leaving you and half the members stranded at a certain broadcast station.

jay had comforted you then, as you were near tears. he laid a hand on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing against your sweater in an attempt to soothe you.

"it happens," jay had said. you didn't even notice his hand had moved from your arm down to the small of your back.

"you're doing great," he added before withdrawing his hand.

you thought about that moment the whole night. how warm his touch was, how gentle he handled your near-breakdown.

he was your responsibility and yet jay was the one that came to your rescue.

you went out on your first official team dinner a few days after that, with the whole managerial team present along with the members. sejin recommended a quaint, yet highly-acclaimed restaurant off one of the side streets around the company.

jay had squeezed in beside you at the table, so close you can feel his body heat radiating off him. a few times his knees knocked against yours but neither of you acted like you noticed.

it was then the first inkling of suspicion rose in you.

could jay be...?

surely not. he was just being nice. he's the literal definition of a gentleman. it's just the way jay is.

of course. it's totally in his character to bring you coffee almost every day. it's normal that he rushes to open every door you walk through. there's definitely nothing weird about him gifting you an expensive box of chocolates for completing your first month on the job.

he's not flirting with you. that would be silly.

you sigh, shaking off these thoughts as you approach the small practice booth at the end of the hall. you can hear the sound of a guitar from the inside.

"jay?" you call out, knuckles knocking against the glass door. the guitar stops.

"yeah?" comes a muffled voice from inside. you slowly push the door open, peeking your head in.

jay is seated in front of the computer, his electric guitar cradled in his arms. he's sporting a loose white shirt and black joggers. his hair is unstyled, black tresses falling over his eyes. he brushes it back with his fingers.

"you have a recording like—," you pause, checking your watch. "right now."

jay gives a start, checking his phone. he groans, setting his guitar down on its stand.

"right," he mutters under his breath. he sighs, rising up from his seat.

you watch as he stretches, the bottom of his shirt riding up to reveal the top of his boxers peeking out from his pants. you catch a glimpse of a very thin sliver of skin.

you try your best to ignore that.

"you better hurry before the producer kicks both of our asses," you urge lightly, crossing your arms. you've been trying to be more assertive with the members lately, seeing as you've already had enough time to know more about them and how they're supposed to be spending their days under your supervision.

"yes ma'am," jay replies, approaching you. you step out of the doorway to let him pass.

he doesn't move for a few seconds and you peer up at him with a questioning look on your face.

"can i ask you something?" jay blurts out, shoving his hands in his pockets.

you glance around to make sure no one is nearby. you have a feeling he's about to ask something that's a little less appropriate for work.

"are you single?"

you nearly choke on your own spit. you had a sense of what he was going to ask, but you never expected him to be this direct.

"may i know why you're asking?" you reply, treading carefully. one wrong move and you can end up dismissed from this long-coveted job of yours.

jay shrugs. "just curious."

you chew on your lip, contemplating how to go about his question. you let out a breath, deciding that there's no harm in being truthful.

"i am," you confirm.

jay nods. "same."

you quirk an eyebrow at this. cocking your head to the side, you ask, "really? how come?"

"i'm sure you see how busy we are," jay counters with a smirk.

it's your turn to shrug. "that doesn't stop jake from texting that girl from—"

"you know about that?!" jay cuts in, his voice dropping to a whisper.

you snicker, shaking your head.

"i know a lot of things, jay. i'm with you guys almost every waking hour of the day," you inform.

jay looks at you with an unreadable expression. something between fear and confusion. it makes you giggle.

"i technically should take it up with HR and higher management, but the other managers and i agreed that until you guys decide to go sneaking off on late-night dates, we'll keep it under wraps."

jay's mouth hangs open, still in disbelief.

"so, if you're planning on taking some girl out, you better let me know," you say, giving jay a pointed look.

jay's expression changes then as he ducks his head to avoid your eyes.

"not gonna happen," he says.

jay gives you a curt nod and smile before pushing past you out into the hallway.

---

you and jay don't talk about that night.

you know that he knows that you know the reason he asked about the state of your love life. he definitely did it on purpose to open up the discussion.

you're determined to squash the notion before it develops further.

you're not doing it to be mean. you'd never want to hurt jay on purpose. but you have a job to do and a reputation to keep.

jay knows that. he should know that.

you get the impression that even if he did, he doesn't care. not when he's sauntering over to you now, a bag of food and an iced coffee in his hands.

"mind if i join you?" jay asks, already sliding into the seat across you. there's barely any other people in the hybe cafeteria but a nervous chill still runs up your spine.

this is nothing. just a friendly lunch between a manager and her member.

"you didn't leave me much choice," you say with a laugh.

jay shrugs, winking at you playfully. you quickly avert your eyes. better to not say anything.

"i like your outfit today," jay compliments, taking a sip of his coffee.

you glance down at yourself. you're in a plain, short-sleeved blouse, white and a little sheer. you paired it with comfortable black corduroy pants and sneakers.

nothing special. to you, at least.

you had to feign ignorance on the way jay had stared at you the whole morning while you were in a meeting.

"thank you," you reply curtly, taking a bite of your kimbap.

"i'm taking you guys home tonight." you quickly revert to another subject.

"kyungjun-sunbaenim has to attend to other things so he assigned me to make sure all of you get home safe and in one piece for today."

jay nods. "got it."

"you guys don't have anything scheduled after 11 so i expect all of you to be at the lobby by that time," you add.

you can feel jay staring as you continue to pick at your food. you fight the urge to look up.

"will do," he finally says.

---

"do you need me to walk you guys up?"

you lean out of the passenger side window, watching as the members file out of the vans in front of their apartment building. thankfully, they all heeded your word, showing up at the lobby at 11:05, ready to head home for the day.

as if to prove that the heavens were on your side, the ride home was awfully quiet, too, which was a surprise considering that it was jay, jake, and sunghoon that decided to ride along with you.

jungwon shakes his head to your question, walking up to your side of the van.

"we're good, _______-noona," jungwon says. "you get home safe, though!"

riki nods along, skipping up to you. "yeah, or else jay hyung is g—"

the youngest is cut off with a sharp elbow to his ribs by jay. riki splutters out in disbelief, complaining, but he's herded off by sunoo.

"good night," jay calls out over his shoulder, waving at you.

you wave back, observing as the boys enter the building, finally letting yourself relax as the last of them disappear through the doors.

---

a vibration jolts against your cheek and you gasp as you're ripped right out of your deep slumber.

you realize in your sleep-hazed mind that it's your phone that woke you up, ringing incessantly. you must have fallen asleep with your face against it.

you press the 'answer' button, the faint beginnings of irritability creeping up your chest.

"hello?" you say, voice sharp.

"_______-noona? i'm so sorry for waking you if you were sleeping, but i didn't know who else to call. we're sorry but we went out to drink after you dropped us off and jay hyung had a little more alcohol than he could handle."

the voice rambles on and it takes you a second to remember who it belongs to.

"jungwon? where are you? who's with you?"

a short pause. you hear the faint sound of a voice, rapidly complaining. you think it's sunoo.

"we took a cab back to our apartment but jay hyung won't get up so we're out here on the front steps," jungwon explains.

"he's just too heavy for sunoo-hyung and i while he's in this state, and the rest of the hyungs are already passed out upstairs," he adds.

you press a hand on your forehead. this can't be happening right now.

a million thoughts run through your head but you will them to quiet down, focusing instead at the task at hand.

"how about riki?" you ask.

"nothing is going to wake him up now, noona," jungwon says, exasperated.

"please, we're not in the—hic—best state, either," jungwon continues. you can still hear sunoo in the background.

you fight the urge to groan.

"okay, okay, i'm on my way," you finally say.

---

you practically fly out of the taxi, not even bothering to wait for your change. you see three figures at the front of the building and you immediately recognize them as jay, sunoo, and jungwon.

"what the hell, jay?" you ask, rushing over. sunoo and jungwon have resigned themselves to sitting on both sides of jay's sprawled figure on the stairs.

jay is on his side, hands tucked under his head as if sleeping on the most comfortable bed instead of rough concrete.

"we tried," sunoo says with a pout. his eyes are glassy, but his speech seems fine. probably tipsy, you think.

"i can carry him just fine," jungwon speaks up. his speech is definitely slurred. "but that's when he's conscious and when i'm not drunk off three bottles of soju."

"jesus christ," you say under your breath.

"okay, i'll grab from under his arms, sunoo you grab his legs, and jungwon, support his torso and that big fat ass of his," you instruct, positioning yourself at jay's head.

jay giggles suddenly, eyes blinking open slowly.

"you think my ass is fat?" jay asks, barely comprehensible with how drunk he is.

"shut up," you respond, huffing. you tuck your hands at his armpits, hooking your arms through.

sunoo and jungwon follow suit.

carrying a nearly six-foot-tall man weighing more than what you can deadlift in the rare times you're at the gym was exactly as difficult as you expected, even with additional help.

it took the three of you ten whole minutes to haul jay towards the elevator and about fifteen to get him down the hall to their unit.

only god knows where the apartment's security guard is amidst all this.

"just a little more," you pant as you combine your efforts to drag jay towards his shared bedroom with jake.

you kick the door open as you heave all your might into getting jay across the threshold.

the room's empty. jake's probably in heeseung's room.

your legs give out before you can get jay to his bed. sunoo and jungwon fall to their knees as well, all three of you breathing heavily from the effort.

"i need to throw up," jungwon declares, dashing out of the room.

"i need...," sunoo pauses, a hand held up as if to silence you, despite you not having said a word.

"i need water and an aspirin," sunoo finally says, stumbling out of the room as well.

he's gracious enough to close the door behind him.

you get up, feeling around for a bedside lamp, muttering a soft 'yes' when you finally feel a switch between your fingers. you turn the lamp on, bathing the room in a soft yellow glow.

you turn to see jay's slumped figure, his back resting on the foot of one of the beds. you approach quietly, kneeling down next to him.

"you're such an idiot," you whisper, brushing back some of the damp hair away from jay's forehead. "who told you to get this drunk?"

"no one," jay responds. you nearly jump, not expecting jay to be lucid at this point in time.

"you know i'm gonna have to tell the other managers about this," you softly berate jay, tugging off his jacket. he giggles, holding his hands over his chest.

"why are you undressing me? do you wanna fuck me or something?" jay asks in his drunken stupor.

you roll your eyes. "no, stupid, i'm making sure you're as comfortable as you can be while in this state."

"liar," jay counters. "you so wanna fuck me."

"i could report you for inappropriate behavior," you reply quietly, throwing jay's jacket to the side. you reach for the topmost buttons of his polo.

"see? you're getting me naked," jay continues, reaching out to take ahold of your wrist.

you stop to look up and you realize that jay has his eyes open, pupils focused on you. his grip tightens around your wrist as he pulls you closer.

"you know right?" jay asks.

your first instinct is to feign innocence, to ask him what he's talking about.

but you do know.

"you're drunk, jay," you supply rather simply. "we'll talk tomorrow."

jay smiles, reaching out to cup one side of your face. you freeze, letting jay's thumb run along your cheekbone before traveling down to your lips. he traces the curves of your mouth, staring intently.

you don't know whether you leaned in or if jay pulled you down, but a moment later, your mouth is against his, a desperate, messy press of lips. he licks right into you, and you can't help the groan that escapes you.

you can't be doing this. this is a clear breach of protocol, this is illegal, even.

"jay," you whisper against his lips. "jay, please."

jay pauses, pulling away slightly. he nuzzles against your cheek, waiting for you to speak.

"we can't keep doing this," you say, prying jay off you. "at least not when you're still drunk."

jay gives you a long, hard look. his eyes are half-lidded as if a step away from sleep. his mouth is parted, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"i'll remember this tomorrow," jay declares.

you sigh, leaning in to peck his lips one last time.

"we'll see."

---

the whole thing blew up in the members' faces. and yours.

you got a good telling-off from sejin, but thankfully nothing reached upper management. the whole group was called into one of the conference rooms the next day and sejin spared no one in his heated scolding. not even riki.

('i was sleeping!' riki had argued. sejin planted his hands firmly on his hips and listed the many different ways ni-ki could have contacted any of the managers to at least inform us of the older members' whereabouts)

you stood very still in the corner, having already received the tamer, abridged version of sejin's speech.

it's been a week now and everything was as normal as it could be, the only difference being that the whole group would be required to have their locations turned on at all times for the next few weeks until management was sure they wouldn't pull another stunt like that again.

oh, and you've been avoiding jay like the plague.

you're thankful that he made no effort in approaching you outside of what was appropriate for work and whenever he did, he'd look anywhere but your face.

it hurt you a bit to see him like this, knowing that he's probably embarrassed with the whole thing. though, you're not quite sure if he's also affected by or if he even remembers the incident in his room.

you're so deep in thought while storming down the hallway, that you nearly run into someone. their firm arms reach out to keep you steady as you try and regain your balance.

you look up and all air is knocked out of your lungs.

"oh, hi jay," you greet, stepping back. your palms clam up as memories of that night the week before flash in your mind.

"hi, ________-noona," he replies.

seconds tick by and no one talks. you know you should say something, anything. an apology, a snarky remark, or a lame excuse to get away. but nothing comes to mind.

"i'm sorry about what happened," jay finally cuts through the silence.

you shake your head, offering him a smile. "we've been over it, jay. quite thoroughly, if by sejin-sunbaenim's standards."

"that's not what i meant," jay continues. he's looking you in the eye.

you gulp, your insides churning.

"that's fine," you begin, keeping your voice as steady as you can. "we can just forget about it."

jay sighs. "i'm not sorry that it happened. i'm sorry that i needed to be drunk to let you know how i was feeling."

you're struck speechless, your brain going haywire. how do you respond to that?

"jay, you know we can't," you deflect, taking another step back. jay follows, standing over you. you feel so small, so vulnerable under his gaze.

"why not? the worst that could happen is you'll be transferred to another artist, another department," jay protests. he takes another step forward.

all you can do is stare down at the floor.

you want it, too. so bad. but you can't risk it. you're not ready, everything's still too uncer—

you feel a pair of hands on your face. you gasp, eyes darting around to see if anyone is in the vicinity.

"j-jay, not here—"

you're pulled forward, jay's strong grip around your arm. he practically drags you to a nearby supply closet, yanking the door open and pushing you in.

worry gnaws away in you as you remember the surveillance cameras in the hallway. those thoughts are immediately pushed away when you feel jay press up against you. you hear him rummage around for a switch, and suddenly, the cramped space is illuminated with dim, yellow lighting.

the closet couldn't be more than a few feet wide both ways, just enough to accommodate two people standing practically on top of each other.

jay grabs your hips and presses himself to your frame. you stifle a gasp as you feel him poking through his pants.

"i want you," jay says lowly, large hands traveling down to your ass. he holds them firmly, squeezing with all his might.

you moan, your hand flying up to your mouth.

"you want me too, right?" jay asks. he slips his hands beneath your denim skirt, a timely choice of clothing for this situation.

you don't know whether to thank or curse the heavens for that particular choice you made.

"we can't—," you begin once more.

jay shuts you up with his mouth, kissing you with so much force it drives you back against the storage shelves. jay cages you between his arms, planting his hands on the wood behind you. he devours your lips as if they were his last meal on earth.

he reaches one hand down, pressing two fingers against your mound. jay groans against your lips when he feels the wetness in your underwear.

"see? you want me, too," jay says, pulling away. he bunches up your skirt around your waist.

"keep it up," jay commands and you oblige, gripping your skirt with shaky hands. you watch as jay unzips his pants, pulling them down along with his underwear, just enough to let his already hard cock spring free.

jay yanks your panties aside, tapping your legs, signaling you to open up. you part your thighs, reaching up to steady yourself on jay.

you yelp when jay pulls one of your legs around his hips, giving him a better angle to slide in. and he does, slipping in so easily between your folds and right into your waiting hole.

"j-jay," you gasp out as he fully sheathes himself within you.

"fuck, you feel amazing," jay compliments, wrapping an arm around your midsection. "already so wet for me."

he pulls you even closer and that's when he starts to move. jay's thrusts are intense, plunging into you fully before pulling back nearly all the way out, and then sinking right back in. your eyes roll back as jay picks up the pace.

"sshh, that's it," jay coos. "we gotta be quiet and we gotta be fast."

you let out a muted whimper, burying your face in jay's chest. soft thuds can be heard as he fucks you against the shelves, your back digging painfully against them, but you can't be bothered to care, not when jay's cock is splitting you open so well.

"still gonna say 'we can't'?" jay says through gritted teeth. you look up to see his forehead creased in concentration, his pupils blown wide. sweat drips down the side of his face.

"god, you look so good like that," jay whispers. "so helpless on my cock. this is what you wanted, right?"

you nod frantically, arms wrapping around jay's neck.

"yeah," you breathe out. "wanted your cock for so long."

jay grunts, throwing his head back. "yes, keep talking to me like that."

his movements quicken and it takes everything in you to fight against the urge to let your knees buckle underneath you.

"please jay," you whimper. "fuck me harder, fuck me the way you've always wanted to fuck me."

"shit," jay mutters.

you're briefly left breathless as you feel your other leg give out, neither of your feet planted on the floor. it takes you a second to realize that jay has scooped you up in his arms, holding you up completely as he continues to ram into you. you wrap your legs tighter around jay.

jay has full control now and all you can do is hang on for dear life.

"yes! jay, yes!" you cry out against his neck. jay pants directly in your ear, fucking you at a speed that's nearly unimaginable to you.

"i-i'm gonna cum," jay manages to get out.

"do it," you quickly answer. jay pulls back to look at you.

you hold his face in your hands, nodding. jay covers your mouth with his as he gives the last of his thrusts, stilling inside you after a while. he presses himself deep within you and you moan against his mouth, feeling him pulse and twitch against your walls.

you cling onto jay for a whole minute before he stumbles back, letting you down on your own two feet. he snaps your underwear back in place, kissing you passionately as he does.

"keep it there for the rest of the day," jay mumbles against your lips, smiling.

you laugh breathlessly, unsure whether it really is jay saying all these things.

you hear a faint buzzing sound and you jump, remembering that you had your phone in your skirt.

well, before jay nearly ripped it off you.

you spot your device on the ground, snatching it up to quickly answer the call.

"hello?"

"_______? have you seen jay?" sejin's voice cuts through the silence inside the closet. you meet jay's eyes and he, too, is perusing his phone.

"no," you lie right between your teeth. "i haven't. why?"

"he has a schedule in a bit and he's not answering any of my calls," sejin says. you're not quite sure if he's worried or irritated. probably both.

"i'll try calling him," you offer. jay grins wolfishly from your side, leaning in to press open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

"great," sejin says. "let me know if you reach him."

you hang up, pocketing your phone.

"you're hot when you're breaking the rules like that," jay says against the column of your throat.

it takes all your willpower to push him away.

"there won't be any rules to break if i get fired," you say matter-of-factly. you lean in to kiss jay square on the lips.

"so you better get your ass out of here before that happens."

#enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #jay smut #jay scenarios #w: jay

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xcherryerim · 10 months ago

Text

Strange Fascination

Part two: The Shadow Under the Bed

part one

Stalker Mike x gn!reader

“And your dreams, Won't you say that in there I'm yours and keep you safe? Say you're mine. I'll always be there.” — Monster Under the Bed by Emily Mei

Notes: I would recommend reading the first part, as it explains Mike’s obsession and stalking behavior, but in summary, After not seeing you to pick up your brother he panics and goes around the area where you live to see the reason of your absence. At night, he decides to break into your place.

Also idk if it’s obvious but Mike is too high and sleepy that he thinks he’s having a sex/wet dream but he isn’t. If you wanna skip to the smut part look for the “❥”

"Not feeling like going to school today, bud?" You asked gently, settling onto Gregory's bed. Placing your hand on his forehead, you winced at the heat radiating from his skin. Sickness was a rarity in your family, making it all the more frightening when it struck.

He shook his head weakly, a small cough escaping him. His pale face was marred with beads of sweat, his eyes brimming with pain, looking like a Victorian man on his deathbed.

…

Despite your brother's reluctance to eat, you managed to coax him into trying a few bites of his favorite meal - mac and cheese. The comforting aroma filled the room, mingling with the laughter from the TV as you played his favorite show, South Park.

You chose the most lighthearted episodes, hoping to distract him from his discomfort. The colorful animation flickered across the screen, punctuated by the show's signature humor. It wasn't much, but it was something.

"Can we get pizza later?" Gregory pleaded, those puppy dog eyes working their magic. You rolled your eyes. Sometimes, it was impossible not to cave in.

"You're pushing it," you responded, but even as you spoke, you knew you were losing the battle. His eyes held a pleading look, a silent promise that maybe, just maybe, he would start feeling better soon.

"Please," he begged, and there it was - that hint of vulnerability that got you every time. You exhale, relenting.

"Fine, for dinner, we can get pizza."

Gregory's face broke into a grin, the first genuine smile you'd seen today. Relief washed over you, knowing that you'd made him happy, even in this small way.

As you sat next to your brother, watching him slowly pick at his food, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. You remembered how it felt to be sick, how even the simplest tasks seemed impossible. But you also remembered how comforting it was to have someone there for you, offering support and understanding.

So, you continued to sit with him, occasionally laughing at the absurdity unfolding on the screen. And as the hours passed, you hoped that your presence, along with the familiarity of his favorite things, would help him feel just a little bit better.

….

After tucking Gregory in, you wished him a good night, feeling a sense of happiness wash over you.

❥ Despite everything, tonight had been a relatively normal evening. Yet, as you settled into bed, your exhaustion refused to cooperate. Sleep evaded you, a cruel tease dancing just beyond reach.

Frustrated, you stood up, making your way to the medicine cabinet. Melatonin pills, their potential untapped. With a sigh, you popped a few, waiting impatiently for the promised drowsiness, To no avail.

Instead, you found yourself pouring a generous portion of liquid sleeping aid down your throat, mimicking the carefree college days of the past.

“This is ridiculous,” you thought, tossing and turning under your covers.

However, the combination of pills and syrup began to take effect, lulling you into slumber. But as the night wore on, you found yourself awake once more. Tired of fighting, you clicked on the lamp beside your bed, casting a warm glow across the room.

Walking to the window, you gazed upon the waning crescent moon hanging low in the sky. Something was comforting about its steady presence, a constant among the chaos of life. A yawn escaped you, and with it, a realization. Perhaps your sleeplessness stemmed from worry. Worrying about Gregory, about the future, about everything in between.

With a deep breath, you decided to address the root of your restlessness. Stepping out of your room, you headed towards the kitchen, determined to make yourself a calming cup of tea.

Once you returned, clutching the steaming cup of tea, you paused near the window. In your haste, the cup tilted slightly, spilling hot liquid onto your leg. A sharp yelp, almost a full-on scream escaped your lips, but you stifled it immediately, not wanting to disturb Gregory.

At the sudden scream, Mike’s panic gnawed at his insides, threatening to consume him whole. He had pushed his luck too far, he thought. Invading personal space without consideration. Now, he waited, trembling and exposed, anticipating the inevitable confrontation.

Hot tendrils of pain radiated from the spot, but you forced yourself to focus on your breath. Slow, deep inhales and exhales carried you through the discomfort, easing the sting. Soon enough, the heat subsided, leaving behind a dull ache.

When you achieved a semblance of peace, you pulled out your sage green journal. Flipping to a blank page. Chronicles of your day poured onto the paper, each sentence capturing the highs and lows of your day. It was therapeutic, a way to process the chaos of life.

And then, there it was - mention of Mike. Your words were casual, almost carefree. “I didn't get to see Mike today though, hopefully, I can tomorrow.” You mumbled just two sentences, but they carried weight. You remembered his name, and you wanted to see him again.

Underneath the bed, Mike's body stiffened. How had you retained his name after such brief encounters? The thought filled him with equal parts pride and embarrassment. You, who knew him so little, desired more interaction. This revelation shook him to his core, Was he just a stranger in your eyes, or did you hold a place for him in your heart?

"Mike, Mike, Mike." Your voice was soft, laced with a mix of exhaustion and longing. As you reached for the nightstand, your hands quivered with anticipation. Mike watched from his hiding place, his heart pounding in his chest.

The moment you pulled out your toy, his eyes widened in shock. This was not what he had expected but, as you began to use it, your body writhing with delight, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction.

The combination of drowsiness from the pills and syrup, along with the physical release, created a heady mixture of sensations. You moaned softly, your voice ringing through the room. Each sound was like a siren's call, drawing him closer to the edge of his sanity.

His adrenaline surged, his body tense with anticipation. As you repeated his name, his heart swelled with an emotion he couldn't quite name. It was a strange mix of pride, longing, and something else entirely - something dangerous.

He felt himself leaking precum, the mere sound of your voice driving him to the brink. Disbelief washed over him; you were thinking of him during your moments of intimacy. He was grateful - no, relieved - that he wasn't alone in this longing.

Without another thought, Mike unzipped his pants, lowering both trousers and boxers just enough to free his aching erection. Semi-naked to the cool night air, his need pulsed with every beat of his heart. Every whimper you uttered drew him closer, matching the rhythm with feverish intensity.

As if entranced, he stroked himself with fervor, mirroring your satisfaction. The air was thick with appetite, heavy with the scent of forbidden lust and connection. Your cries grew louder, almost like you were urging him on, and he responded in kind, matching your pace with increasing fervor.

The boundary between fantasy and reality danced a tantalizing waltz within him, as though the sleeping pills had crafted a mesmerizing dreamscape. His frenzied strokes built the tension to a fever pitch, and as his name echoed through the night, Mike emerged from his hiding spot. A predatory grin graced his lips, and ragged gasps betrayed the satisfaction coursing through him.

"Mike?!" you stammered, your eyes locked onto the object of your fantasies. The man standing before you proudly displayed his erection, taunting yet gratifying.

"My sweet, sweet angel," he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he closed the distance between you. "I knew you wanted me."

His fingertips danced delicately across your features, like an artist carefully sculpting his next piece. "You've been thinking of me, haven't you?" The question hung in the air, a declaration that shattered the façade of secrecy. No longer was he a stranger observing you; instead, you were two souls entangled in a passionate embrace.

"I've waited so long for this moment," Mike confessed, his breath warm against your skin. "To have you all to myself... to hear you call my name like that." Hunger glinted in his eyes, a testament to his craving.

With a sudden, possessive hold, Mike clutched your chin, demanding eye contact. "But now that I have it... I'll never let you go." His words carried a weighted promise, a tether connecting you both in a web of his obsession and yearning.

“Mike what are you—“ you began, but before you could utter another word, Mike silenced you with a gentle kiss, his lips firm yet tender. His tongue slipped past your parted lips, igniting a firestorm of sensations within you.

"Shh," he whispered, breaking away from the kiss just enough to speak. "No more questions. Tonight, we belong to each other, and nothing else matters."

His skilled hands traced every curve and contour of your body, exploring with a purposeful tenderness that left you breathless. "Tell me... do you know how long I've dreamed of this?" he asked, "To have you, all to myself, like this..."

Mike claimed his position above you, his throbbing length pressing insistently against your outer thigh. The mere touch sent ripples of desire coursing through him, and he started to slightly hump.

"You've consumed my every waking thought," Mike’s breath hitched, the weight of his obsession finally surfacing. As months of longing and secrecy culminated in this single moment, Mike's need became palpable. His breath hitched with each ragged exhale, proof of his pent-up desperation.

“I've waited for this, dreamt of this," he added, his voice low and husky.

For a moment, the outside world ceased to exist. You and Mike were entwined in a dance of eagerness and confusion, lost in the euphoria of the moment. The distinction between reality and fantasy didn't matter; it was irrelevant in the face of your connection.

Fixating on the silhouette of your body, he noticed your hand wrapped around the toy. Acting on instinct, Mike adjusted the device gently, synchronizing its rhythm with yours. His arousal surged at the sight, causing a low, guttural groan to escape him.

"You look so good like this, darling," Mike whispered, his warm breath dancing across your skin. "I've wanted this for so long... to touch you, to be with you..."

With delicate precision, Mike brushed your most sensitive spot with his thumb, earning a sharp gasp from you. "I know you feel it too..." he whispered, his words laced with raw truth.

The coolness from his hand traced up your thigh, causing your body to shiver involuntarily.

"Let me pleasure you, the way you deserve," Mike whispered, his fingers moving with slow, calculated strokes. He increased the pressure, his thumb tracing the throbbing between your legs. Drawing closer still, he left a trail of scorching kisses along your jawline, nipping gently at the delicate skin of your neck. His other hand explored your curves, mapping them with meticulous care.

"You're perfect... I want to worship every inch of you," he murmured, his breath hitching as your responses to his touch grew more pronounced.

"Tell me what you need," he urged, his gaze locked firmly on yours. "I'll give you anything you want, just say the word."

"Fuck me, please," you whined, the vibrating toy making it difficult to talk.

Mike's eyes flashed with raw hunger at your impassioned plea. Leaning in, his warm breath hit your skin, and a low, rumbling growl escaped his chest. "As you wish."

In a deliberate movement, he removed the toy from your trembling body. "I'll give you everything you crave."

With a grace born of fervor, Mike positioned himself between your quivering thighs. He gently lifted your legs, granting access to your awaiting entrance. The head of his cock pressed insistently against you, demanding entry.

Savoring the exquisite tension, Mike paused for a fleeting moment before burying himself deeply into you. A rough groan escaped him. The sensation was indescribable – a potent mix of pain and pleasure that stole your breath. His pace was both fierce and controlled, striking a delicate balance between his untamed passion and your comfort.

"I'm going to make you scream my name," he warned. A promise hung heavy in the air, fueling the flames of passion between you both.

Gripping your hips, his fingers bit into your skin as his pace quickened. In a display of brutal possession, he claimed your lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing your cries of ecstasy.

"You're mine," he proclaimed, the words laden with ownership. His eyes bore into yours, leaving no doubt about his claim.

you clutched his shirt desperately, searching for something solid amidst the tempest of sensations. "All yours," you whimpered, your body responding to his rhythm, yearning for more.

"All mine..." Mike answered possessively, digging his fingertips into your hips.

Driven by your need and his unquenchable thirst, he sinks into you with unbridled intensity. The sensation was a revelation - an exquisite fit, an intimate conquest. Your bodies merged, creating a symphony of gratification.

"You feel so good around me like you were fucking made just for me," Short of breath, his hips snapping forward in relentless pursuit of bliss. Each stroke brought him closer to the pinnacle, fueled by your mutual hunger.

"Oh god..." you cried out, clutching at him even tighter as the pleasure built within you.

Panting heavily, Mike's voice transformed into a guttural growl as he neared the precipice. "I'm going to fill you up, mark you as mine," he promised menacingly. Bending his head, he grazed your neck with his teeth in a primal claim of possession.

His grip on your hips tightened further, his fingers digging into your flesh as he thrust deeper inside you. "Take all of me, baby. Let me claim every part of you," he commanded, his eyes locked onto yours.

With each powerful thrust, both edging closer to orgasm, the tension coiling ever tighter. It was as though no other concerns existed – no consequences, no worries, only the two of them, entangled in a web of unrelenting carnal nature.

You cried, your nails raking down his back, clawing at his slick skin for stability. Your bodies moved as one, driven by an irresistible force that defied logic and reason. The scent of vigor filled the air, mingling with the sound of their labored breaths.

As the final moments stretched out before them, Mike's drive grew frantic, his eyes locked on yours in a hypnotic dance. Your cries grew louder, each one a plea for release, for the sweet relief that lay just beyond reach. And then, with a sudden jolt, you peaked, your body convulsing around him, a triumphant cry escaping your lips.

Mike's eyes widened as he felt your body twitch, his name echoing through the room. Unable to resist any longer, he followed suit, burying himself deep within you as he found his release. His world narrowed to the feel of you surrounding him, the sweet embrace of your warmth.

Yet, his need for you remained insatiable. Collapsing on top of you, he embraced you possessively, your bodies sliding against each other, chasing every tremor of your shared climax.

His movements were ragged and sloppy. "Mine... you're mine!" he whined and groaned your name against your lips, capturing you in a deep, fiery kiss. Overstimulation faded into the background, swallowed by the heady rush of their union.

This was a dream, wasn't it? A dream world where you belonged to him and him alone.

Huffing and puffing, Mike whispered, "I love you," his voice laced with genuine emotion. Nuzzling against your neck, he claimed your lips once more in a searing kiss, his words a confession born of obsession and desire. All those hours spent observing you, planning this moment... they were finally rewarded.

His heart beat wildly against your chest, matching the rhythm of yours. You both lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, lost in the afterglow of devoting love and possession.

…..

Mike woke up to the warm glow of sunlight filtering through an unfamiliar window. Confusion furrowed his brow as he shifted his body to the side, revealing your sleeping form next to him.

Panic welled up inside him, his mind racing to piece together the fragments of last night. Had everything that transpired between you truly happened, or was it all a dream fueled by his overuse of sleeping pills? Deciding there was no time to waste, He carefully extracted himself from the bed, moving with the silence of a thief. Gathering his belongings, he paused to steal one last, longing glance at your peaceful face.

In a sudden burst of impulse, he approached your dresser, quietly opening a drawer and snatching a pair of your underwear. A gleam lit his eyes as he slipped them into his pocket. Then, without another word, he climbed out the window and melted into the morning shadows.

As he disappeared from view, doubt lingered in the air. Was it real or merely a product of his overactive imagination? Regardless, the daylight served as a harsh reminder of the risk he had taken, the line he had crossed.

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of the window closing. A coy smile spread across your lips as you watched Mike's retreating form, amusement twinkling in your eyes.

"So predictable, my dear Mike..." you murmured to yourself.

You knew full well that he was oblivious to the security camera discreetly positioned just outside. The unlocked window - an open invitation he simply couldn't resist - had been your doing. And, as expected, he had fallen right into your trap.

Shifting onto your side, you let your fingers trail across the rumpled sheets, still warm from his embrace. A contented sigh escaped you as you nestled back into the pillows. You reveled in the knowledge that Mike was utterly ensnared in your web. And with a devious glint in your eye, you vowed to keep him there, anticipating your next encounter with eager delight.

After all, you had no intention of letting him go.

Thank you so much for reading! should I make a part 3?

Originally it was going to be two parts but if you guys liked it I can make another part (mainly smut). If you have any questions don’t be afraid to ask them since i know the story might be confusing.

If you guys like the story and want to be added to the possible part 3 let me know so I can add you to my taglist!

taglist 🍒: @lile6969 @fatinhadesiners06 @jhutchismyl0verb0y @lefteagleblizzard @freak-accident419 @joshhutchersonsgf @valreanakuroo @jhutch-bf @cassiecasluciluce

#mike schmidt smut #strange fascination mini series #strange fascination #mike schmidt stalker #mike schmidt #mike schmidt angst #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fanfic #mike schmidt headcanons #mike fnaf #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schimdt x reader #mike schimdt smut #mike schimdt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x gn!reader #stalker mike schmidt

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fictionalsownme · 6 months ago

Text

More Than A Woman | wilford warfstache x gn!viewer / reader |

chapter one - "I've known you very well"

A/N: hi everyone!! I'm so excited to post this! Usually I spend a long time on the stuff I write but I wrote a good chunk of this in a feverish burst haha, I've been wanting to write for Wil and had such a clear idea of how I see him in my head for so long :)) This fic will probably be around 10 chapters~ish and progress will probably be a little slow but I'm also trying to get faster at my writing so I guess we'll see! Getting it down is always the hardest, then you spend a bit of time hating it, then the fixing can start! Anyway, I hope you guys like this, I love this dorky weirdo a lot for whatever reason, and I'd love to write for other egos too :) ((there might be a guest appearance or two in here in the last few chapters if plans don't change 👀)) hope you guys enjoy the first chapter at least! lmk 🥰! word count: 2.9k notes: reader is gender-neutral, similar to all of mark's stuff :) -- the title is just after the song! no pronouns or descriptors are used other than the occasional they/them. reader is the viewer (& district attorney) from wkm, adwm, ahwm, iswm, etc, but that won't come up until later. wmlw wilford. story will be mostly fluff, some hurt/comfort & angst, lots of romance and flirting! story is adapted from an idea I had for my self insert. we will get into some lore stuff (or at least my understanding of the lore 👀) and filling in gaps with headcannons, but it's mostly about wilford & reader and I'll try to explain as we go so don't worry about it too much if you don't know all of it. especially since I don't know if my understanding is always 100% accurate 👉👈 let's have fun yall! 💞

masterlist | AO3

The music playing softly over the convenience store speakers was pleasant, if slightly boring. Like elevator music— there only to help ease the passing of time. Your night shift would end soon, and the sky could be seen as it lightened more every minute through the windowed front of the building.

Other than that, the old store was quiet. Dusty. Pink and orange neon strips lined the walls near the ceiling. They overpowered the dated fluorescent lights, casting everything in a slightly peach haze. Like a dream.

Different sections of the store were marked with neon too, the letters glowed against the wall denoting the drinks, the snacks, the hot food… You liked your little store. Even if the unyielding isolation of your work made you a bit… complacent. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d truly talked with someone.

The ice creams chilled your fingers through the wrappers as you pulled them from their box and slotted them into place. Even with the cold air of the freezer wafting over you, you could smell the cool summer air coming in the sliding front doors.

You liked to prop them open on dawns like these. The convenience store lights did draw in the occasional pestering bug, but they usually found their way out again before long. You did get a bat once. Albeit a little crazed and frantic, you were surprised to find it harmless. Maybe a little lost. Now that thing seemed like it would never leave.

Refocusing on your task, you brushed your condensation-soaked fingers on your work apron, tied tight behind your neck and around your back, and shut the freezer door.

The motion alert chimed a pleasant tune through the staticky old speakers as a customer entered the open doors from the street.

You called an automatic, “Welcome in~,” and went about straightening a shelf of snack bars and chocolate. You didn’t bother to look in their direction as you heard them make their way through the aisles.

“Pardon me,” said their strange, nearly British accent from beside you now. You turned to the source of the voice, the man who’d just walked in, and your eyes went to his outfit first.

A silky-- almost sparkly in how it caught the light-- lavender shirt with mismatched buttons revealed expanses of his bare chest. It was paired with white bell-bottoms and a fake pink afro hanging half-off his head, about to fall off. He had olive skin and dark hair-- nearly black--, fluffy and sticking up every which way like hands had been running through it. Scruffy facial hair framed a thick mustache that tinted slightly pink where it turned up at the ends.

He looked… honestly, he looked ridiculous. But the 70s getup was fun, you supposed. And his eyes-- dark brown and monolid-- were handsome. Underneath all the… extra mess. You blinked, slowly, in a way that felt like waking up.

“Uh, hi. Are you coming from a costume party or something?” It was August, but you supposed it was never too early to start the spooky season.

“Oh! Do you know of one? I do love a good costume. But no. Just the regular-sort. Just woke up from one.” He scanned the products near his head, grabbed a protein bar, sniffed the wrapper, guffawed, and put it back.

“You just woke up? Are you alright?”

“Oh, worry not, friend, this is normal for my level of reverie! I’m not even hungover!” He laughed, his hands going to his hips.

You stared at him.

“I was just looking for something to gnaw on! To nourish myself before I’m on my way.” His eyes were still traveling all over, not really seeing you.

Now in theory, a strange man coming in at this hour, acting even stranger, with his clothes disheveled? You knew you should be on your way to your safe space behind the counter to get him checked out and exiting the store as fast as possible. But there was something about him…

Something you couldn’t place…

Instead you raised your eyebrows and relaxed against the cooler door. “Uh, I guess that depends on what kind of food you like,” You offered. After a moment, his gaze landed on you and he seemed to finally take you in. Your uniform, your crossed arms, your patient expression, your features. His face scrunched into confusion.

A moment passed, staring at each other like that. “Your shirt’s looking a little rough, you know.”

“Have we met, friend?” He asked as he began to fix his buttons.

You watched passively as more of his chest came into view. He either didn’t notice or didn’t mind your blatant staring. You weren’t sure why you were staring, or what you were feeling as you did so.

You weren’t gawking at his abs or anything-- well,-- not that he didn’t have abs. He did, sort of. The expanse of his chest and abdomen were tight with toned muscle. He definitely wasn’t lacking abs, anyway. Either way… this was about something different.

You wondered for a moment if a vague familiarity was what you were picking up on, but quickly dismissed it.

“I feel like I’d remember meeting you.”

You realized with a start that your comment could be seen as flirtatious, and added quickly, “Just, you know-- generally.”

But he just hummed and spun on his heels, turning away. You sighed and found yourself in-step behind him, hands in your uniform pockets. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Well, either way!” He started, his energy returning tenfold. “Let's see what this cute little shop has to eat!”

For some reason, you asked, “Do you have money?”

He froze. “Er, no~. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Mind what?”

“Well, spotting me of course! Let’s just say I owe you one, eh friend?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Thought so.”

Thought so? Maybe you did know him…

It was your turn to squint in displaced confusion. “What’s your name?”

His voice came from behind you and you spun around, your shoes squeaking on the tile floor. When did he sneak around you?

He bent over and twirled his hand, a flamboyant bow finally knocking the afro off his head. “Wilford Warfstache, at your service.”

“That’s your name?”

He righted himself. “For now.” It suited him well enough, but for some reason it sounded misplaced.

… But no, either way, you definitely hadn’t met him before. You didn’t know many people in the first place, let alone someone so eccentric.

Still, you were curious about him. Curious about his personality and who he was. He felt sort of like a puzzle waiting to be solved. And so far, despite his quirks, despite how admittedly weird you’d also been acting, he’d been friendly. You couldn’t say the staring and prodding questions were too in-character for you. At least not when it came to customers.

His hair looked softer without the wig to weigh it down-- parted at his brow and long enough to fluff over the tips of his ears and end where his neck met his spine. You reached down to scoop the curly mop of synthetic hair up off the floor.

“Where did you get this thing?”

He hummed something like ‘I don’t know’, his eyes sort of wide like a clueless puppy’s.

“What, you just kind of have it?”

“Yea’p.”

You squinted at him, a smirk forming on your lips. “How about I do you a favor and throw this away?”

He shrugged, hummed an ‘alright’ sound, and turned away.

“Oh no, I was kidding! God, here--!” You had to grab his wrist to stop him from wandering off further and placed the pink afro in his hand.

You had just been trying to tease him, but now you just felt bad. “Look, Wilford, you want something to eat? We have to throw the hot food out every night. You can have a taquito or a slice of pizza or something if you want.”

Then he was frozen again-- staring down at where your fingers wrapped around his wrist. Your eyes followed his gaze down and then you were staring too.

A moment passed. Then two. Finally, you let go and crossed your arms again, tucking your hands away where they couldn’t embarrass you again.

“... Fuck, I’m sorry. I-I don’t know why I did that.” You did your best to clear your throat.

But he was still stuck there. He blinked a few times and his gaze met your eyes, his brows gathering together.

“Wh-What did you say your name was, friend?” He seemed so… serious all of sudden. So dire.

You hadn’t mentioned it yet, but told him with a hesitant voice.

His expression blanked, eyes widening. He brought his arm, the offending afro in tow, to his chest, touching his wrist where you’d held it.

“Oh…”

You raised your brows and asked softly, “Sorry, do you know me, then?”

“Hm?” And he blinked like his mind was clearing, like he’d forgotten you were there.

He cleared his throat, smiled-- ear to ear-- his mustache lopsided like a cartoon. “Oh-- nevermind about that! Some food would be lovely, if you don’t mind.”

His eyes were sparkling.

“Sure. I mean, it’s nothing fancy. Here,” And you walked over towards the front counter. Wilford trailed close behind you-- holding onto the wig in his hands like a school kid holding a lunch box-- his gaze wandering over the store again like he hadn’t seen it the first time.

You arrived at the hot foods section, a glassed-off section of day-old food over heated rods. You shrugged. “If you have a sensitive stomach, maybe don’t,” you started, “but it’s mostly fine to be honest. I eat it if I’m in a pinch, you know.”

You hopped up to sit on the counter, your legs facing Wilford, and leaned back to reach around and grab the tongs waiting there. You straightened and clapped them together twice. You offered him a smile. “What’ll it be, Mr. Warfstache?” Then a quieter, “--that was your last name right?”

“Do you gravitate towards anything yourself?”

“Can’t go wrong with a slice of pizza, I guess. Even here.”

His smile grew sort of soft. “Then that. If you please.”

“You got it.”

You leaned over again and served up the slice of moderately warm and slightly greasy pizza on a brown napkin and passed it off to him.

“Much obliged.”

You got one for yourself too, and when you righted and your eyes found Wilford again, he was sitting in a retro-style diner chair you’d never seen before-- his feet against the edge of the counter beside you.

You couldn’t help the surprised laughter that choked out of you. “Wha-- where did you even find that?”

The chair teetered on its two legs as he leaned precariously back, tilting his head at your question. The pink wig sat in his lap and you couldn’t help thinking it looked like some weird dog.

“Well, there’s no need to worry! I’m only borrowing it, I’m not a barbarian.”

And you just knew you weren’t getting more of an answer than that.

“So who even are you?” You asked as he took a bite of the pizza, somehow pulling all the cheese right off the top in one piece. He pouted down at the offending mozzarella, slurping it into his mouth and swallowing it. “Do you live around here?”

“Mm. I don’t really live anywhere. Much more the exploring-- ever on the move-- type.”

He was so expressive. It really felt like talking to an old cartoon come-to-life or something. You turned to lean against the side of the glass cover, swinging your legs so your feet rested on the counter, not far from his still against the edge. You weren’t touching at all, but you were surprised at how quickly the two of you fell into a casual-- albeit timidly curious-- rhythm.

“So what do you do?” And you began to eat too.

He beamed, his smile reaching all the way to his eyes. “I’m an interviewer! Warfstache Tonight, that’s what my show is called! It’s quite a professional endeavor!”

You smiled and hummed around your bite of pizza, impressed. That actually explained a lot. And it suited him nicely enough. “Sounds pretty glamorous.”

“And what about you? You can’t just be a convenience store clerk!” He seemed so affronted by the idea. Crinkling his nose, dropping his voice an octave. “How dreadfully boring.”

You winced. “‘Just a convenience store clerk?’ Ouch, Wilford…” You couldn’t help frowning down at your slice.

“Oh! No no, pardon me!” He let the chair fall back to four legs, waving the idea way with a panicked hand. “I only meant that… this isn't what truly stirs your passions, is it? Do you do anything at your leisure? For work or just… something you enjoy?”

You squinted at him. But you didn’t really think he was trying to insult you. And he wasn’t wrong. It just… wasn’t always the most fun when someone pointed it out. Especially like that.

You sighed, fidgeting as you considered his question. “Not right now… This job keeps me pretty occupied. But you know, it’s not too bad. It keeps me, I don’t know, grounded I guess.”

He thought for a moment, then nodded, taking another bite. “I do hope you get more opportunities soon, then.” He said, surprisingly grounded.

You looked at him. “... Thanks.” And you meant it.

“And… my apologies for the earlier, uh, miswording.”

“That’s fine… I’d be curious to hear more about your show, though! Have you interviewed anyone interesting or anything?”

A beat. A sort of tiredness settled into his shoulders and he peered up at you. “The odd gold-star guest did wander in from time to time. I’m not sure if my skills were quite deserving of them at the time.”

Was that… shame?

“The truth is, I couldn’t quite live up to the role. I--” He laughed, pained. He cleared his throat. “I’m taking a bit of a break from show business for the moment.”

Ah. So that’s what happened. You offered him a sympathetic smile. “To party? That’s probably why you don’t have any money, Wilford. And why you have to rely on shitty convenience store food?” You held up your greasy napkin like it was evidence.

“Now don’t underestimate the power of a good party! And this food is fine, I’m grateful for it,” He crumpled the now empty napkin and gestured wildly with it. “The truth is I get by just fine. I’m just not sure what else I should be doing.”

You looked out the front windows. The sky was getting lighter. The timer marking the end of your shift would go off any minute.

So maybe that’s why he’d been asking you about your passions. You felt bad for him. He was strange, to be sure. And a little hard to follow. But he was also… sweet. He had a softness about him.

And still… there was that feeling that hadn’t disappeared since meeting him. Like… like your soul recognized him. Maybe not deeply. But distantly. Like you’d met him in a dream. It was a ridiculous notion. Ridiculous didn’t seem beyond his territory.

You turned, legs coming down from the counter once again. You leaned forward, your hand landing at the junction of his shoulder and neck. His silk shirt was soft under your fingers. His eyes jumped up to yours and you looked down at him with a smile.

“You liked doing your show right? You want to be an interviewer?”

He nodded slowly. His lashes fluttered.

“Then that’s what you should be doing! You just have to try again!” You shrugged with one shoulder. “It might suck a lot. And you might fail again. But pick yourself back up. Keep going. I’m sure you can do it if you keep at it and think outside the box, you know. Failing only means failing if you stop.”

You leaned back, your hand sliding away. He stared at you.

“That’s what the rest of us do, anyway. Honestly, maybe you should do your show online! You know, livestream it or something. I’m sure you’d find your own way to it.”

Slowly, a smile crept back in, the corners of his eyes creasing.

“What a wonderful idea…”

God, his eyes…

You looked down at your own napkin, laughing a little at yourself. “Wilford, I promise, the advice I just gave you was nothing crazy.”

“Well, perhaps it’s just a little too rare that I get a pick-me-up.”

You hopped down from the counter. “Swing by whenever, I’ll hand them out for free. Though, if you’re always on the move, I guess you’re probably not in town for long, huh?”

He quickly followed your lead and stood, his chair nearly falling in his haste. “Uh— w-well I, I don’t know, I could always… linger for a day or two. Hard to say really.”

“Uh huh.” You smirked at him, raising your brows. “Well, if that constant partying you have going on brings you back here, feel free stop in, okay? … It’d be nice to have someone in here every once in a while. Well, someone friendly, anyway.”

“Right. Will do. Of course.”

You gave him two solid pats on the chest and turned to throw the napkins away behind the counter. When you turned to face him again, he was gone. Only slightly confused, you quickly recovered and yelled a quick, “bye~!” to the now empty store.

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iceunhie · 1 year ago

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@ ICEUNHIE'S BLOG RULES !

» content: writing, engaging, rambles, asks, etc. the whole shebang

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➣ all my works are exclusively and strictly sfw, however, suggestive and implied content will be marked appropriately followed by an age limit.

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➣ spoilers in any of my content will be marked and shown appropriately!!

➣ most of my work isn't proofread and capitalization isn't consistent, so sorry for that 😞😞

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guys (gn) go ham in my inbox, ily /pos i apologize in advance if i end up capslocking everytime

#whoever reads ily thank u for taking the time to respect my rules #anyways I edited this like 3 times LOL my indecisive ass can't handle all the fancy formatting I put so i stuck to a basic theme #i love u gojo satoru one day I'll write for u

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navstuffs · 2 years ago

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Hope

Pairing: Brotherhood!Ezio x GN!Reader

Summary: Ezio knows he shouldn't have hope - but he still hopes that you might be found alive.

Warnings: ANGST, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, reader is tortured, torture!!! , cursing, violence, ezio going through loss again, alternate good ending at the bottom.

Author's Note: hii! this came to me at 1:30 am and i wrote until 3 am. this fanfic has two endings! the true one, bad, sad and painful. and the good one, which is found at the end. so in a certain sense, you can pick the one you think is best! (no one asked but my fav is the bad one) if you want, you can listen to the song that helped me write this fanfic i found by amber run. hope you enjoy!

I'll use you as a warning sign (...)

And I'll use you as a focal point

So I don't lose sight of what I want(...)

And I've moved further than I thought I could

But I missed you more than I thought I would (...)

And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be

Right in front of me

Talk some sense to me

(Amber Run - I found)

It could have been three days or thirty days. You don't know anymore. You try to keep yourself awake, but the pain, thirst, and exhaustion are too much.

It is hard to move. Your legs and arms have been bound with heavy chains since you arrived, and the last piece of food you had was what a soldier threw on the floor four, three nights ago? It had a weird taste, but you were so hungry you ate in one piece.

It had been an ambush. As the mission leader, it was your responsibility to realize that. But you didn't. Giving time for the others to escape, you stayed. You killed as many as you could. You got captured and taken straight to Cesare.

Cesar first bargained, saying all you had to do was share Ezio's locations and plans. He was going to reward you. He would make you part of the nobility. You spit on his face, getting your first broken rib that night.

They stripped you of your Assassin robe. You knew it was a tactic to shame you, but you didn't care. After being beaten up countless times, your honor no longer matters.

They have tried everything. To droll you in a bucket of water. Burn you with the heated point of a sword. Plucked one or two fingernails until you passed out with the pain. Not counting all bruises on your face and all over your body.

Cesare enjoys seeing you like this. He occasionally stops in front of your cell, tempting you: all you had to do was tell where your other fellow Assassins were. Where Ezio Auditore hid.

You said nothing. You never opened your mouth.

You heard from a few soldiers or thought you so, the leader of the Brotherhood was looking for you. Hunting. He had become even more ruthless, killing more and more guards. They had problems recruiting guards now. No one knew when they would get back home after work.

You didn't know if you wanted Ezio to find you, to see you like this. He wouldn't even recognize you.

You could only hope death took you before.

-x-

Ezio hasn't been thinking straight for ten days, four hours, and twelve minutes since the other Assassins returned without you. When he asked for an explanation, his heart already knew the answer. They explained there were too many. You had stayed.

"Dead?" Il Mentore asked, and they could feel the pain in his voice. They don't know.

Ezio didn't freak out. The anger from when he was an inexperienced and immature Assassin came back in full force. He was primarily angry at himself: he shouldn't have let you in. He shouldn't have allowed you to get so close. Why you had to be so stubborn? Why he accepted your help?

That same night, Ezio went out. Alone. Hunting for something to take his anger. Ezio didn't know when he stopped, but when he came to Tiber Island, his vests were full of blood.

Ezio fell into a chair, the hideout too quiet without your presence. Being the strategic leader at his side. Ezio wanted to feel your warmth. Your company. Your love. He can feel the tears dropping from his eyes, and he doesn't try to control them. He lets them run free.

When he went to bed, he had nightmares. Ezio saw his dad and his siblings hanged, screaming for help, and he can't do anything about it. Cristina dying in his arms, declaring her love, and he can't do anything about it. He saw you lying in a fetal position, your body pierced by arrows, blood dripping until his feet. Ezio tried to move but can't, desperately watching you die.

Ezio couldn't save any of them.

-x-

When Machiavelli brings news that the templars are keeping an Assassin in a secret location, Ezio tries not to be hopeful. Deep inside, he wishes it isn't you. He has no idea what they can be doing with you.

"Where?"

"Just outside Rome. I don't know the exact location, but I will try to get it. Ezio, it could be-"

"Let me know what you can find," Ezio murmurs before leaving.

He visits his mom and Claudia. His mom is sad and apprehensive. Claudia, on the other hand, tries not to mention your name.

"How are you doing?" Claudia wonders, her tone full of pain. His sister must be feeling terrible: you were Claudia's best friend.

"I want the body. I want to be able to bury it."

Claudia gulps, looking straight. They had dealt with death before, and deep inside, Claudia and Ezio expected it to become easier with time. Without controlling herself, she hugs her older brother, sobbing.

"Oh, Ezio, I am so so sorry."

"Me too," Ezio whispers back, his heart breaking into a million pieces.

-x-

You don't know why you are still alive. After another beat-up session, the guards seem to have given up on you. Even Cesare doesn't appear anymore.

Your clothes are dirty and ripped, and you can barely keep your eyes open. Your fingers are broken. They stopped giving you water. You know something is bleeding inside you; it is just a matter of time now.

You wish you could have seen Claudia. Maria. Leonardo. All your other Assassins. You wish you could thank them for all the lessons you got. You are happy they didn't come to save you.

You wish you could have seen Ezio one last time. Tell him it wasn't his fault.

-x-

When Machiavelli reveals the location, Ezio doesn't hesitate to go—joined by the same group you saved. The Brotherhood wants to give you proper rest. They know you wouldn't like that, risking the Brotherhood for a single Assassin, but it is you.

You are imprisoned in some fort just outside Rome, Machiavelli explained. For some reason, he didn't know the status of your life, but from what his informants saw, they were keeping you in a cell.

"Dead?" Ezio asks. There is no hope in his voice.

"They don't know. Ezio, do you think that is a good idea?"

Ezio doesn't know. He gets on his horse and is followed by the others. A small part inside of him is burning, inside his heart. It grows like a small flame that gets bigger on a cold and dark day.

It is hope.

-x-

You wake up with the sound of a distant explosion. Screams came followed, and the smell of fire. You try to lift your head, your survival instincts kicking in, but your body hurts too much. You wonder if you have arrived in Hell. You concentrate on the front door, your vision too foggy to see anything. You can hear the noises of a fight though you can't quite place what is happening yet.

You think you hear death calling your name.

-x-

Ezio is frozen in front of your cell. For a few seconds, he can't move or breathe.

It is you.

It is really you.

It barely looks like you, though. In a fetal position, legs and arms are tied with heavy chains. Ezio holds the bars with an intensity that might break them. What the fuck have they done to you? He needs to get you out there. Now.

He calls your name.

You don't seem to listen. Ezio tries again, this time more urgent.

You open your eyes, confused. You thought you heard Ezio calling. Trying to crawl across the floor, you focus your eyes on death.

It is Ezio. Hood down. You can barely see his face, but you know he looks as beautiful as ever.

"E...zi...o," You whisper.

Ezio gets the keys from the guard impaled against the wall. He ignores his shaking hands and opens the door, rushing toward you. When he touches your face, your skin is so cold. He calls your name again, waking you up.

"Io sono qui, amore mio, sono qui."

You barely seem to register what he says. Ezio glances at your body. It doesn't look good, but he is determined to get you off there. He lifts your body, and you groan in pain.

"I am going to take you out of here," It is a promise.

Ezio takes you across the corridors, walking as carefully as he can. He didn't want you to feel more pain. He is thankful he brought a doctor. He has to hope you can make it.

The place around him is destroyed, being burned to the ground. Ezio had told the other Assassins to look for other innocents inside the prison.

"I always have been hopeful. Always hoping you were alive," Ezio confesses, his voice trembling as if you could listen.

You are passing moments of consciousness and unconsciousness. You know you were in Ezio's arms (he knew you hated to be carried like that). You try to say you loved him, that it's too late, but no words come out of you.

Ezio finally gets to the entrance. His fellow Assassins were in the front with a small group of people. All looked malnourished but not as bad as you. The doctor, who was checking them, runs to you as Ezio places you on the floor as carefully as he can.

He can't leave your side. Ezio touches your face. He touches your cheeks. Your forehead. Your ears. Trying to memorize your features.

Your eyes open, and you do your best to keep them open. You know it is the last time. You can notice the doctor assessing you. He seems to say something to Ezio, and he looks defeated. The doctor gives you space. Nobody else dares to get closer.

"You were brave. Very brave this whole time. I am sorry I didn't find you earlier, amore mio."

Ezio holds your hand into his face, his heart heavy. He breathes deeply. He wants to scream at the world, not again! He wants to shout, he wants the doctor to find a way to cure you. He wants you to live. You deserve to live.

You have to live.

Breathing deeply one more time, his voice shaking and the tears falling down his eyes, he finally says.

"Go in peace."

You give him a half-smile, ignoring the pain on your broken fingers as you rub your face a little. You were happy. You saw him one last time. Ezio knew you loved him.

Numerous memories flashed behind your eyes. Your family. Your family being killed. Meeting Ezio. Falling in love with him. Claudia teasing you but happy her brother found love again. Maria thanking you for giving him hope. Your experiments with Leonardo. Mario's death. The beginning of the Brotherhood. Your first night with Ezio.

Ezio.

You want to apologize. It is not his fault. You want to say you love him and wish him a happy life. He will find someone. He will be happy. You close your eyes, never to open them again.

ALTERNATE ENDING (GOOD ENDING):

"We can try to move them, but it might be risky," The doctor warns as he returns, but Ezio ignores that. Leaving the rest of the Assassins to help the rest of the people, he places your body in the carriage with the doctor, focusing on taking you to the closest Inn, making sure to go slow.

He tries not to give himself hope, but you seem to be fighting.

The doctor says you aren't dead yet.

Ezio enters the Inn with you unconscious in his arms, the doctor at his side. The owners, an elderly older couple named Bianco and Pia, rush him to a room, where he places you gently into a bed.

The doctor asks Ezio to rip your clothes. He does so. Pia brings a bowl with water to clean your body. She doesn't say anything, but her eyes don't have much hope.

The doctor gives you a medicine that burns down your throat. He bandages pretty much your whole body and tells Ezio he has done everything he could. The following twenty-four hours are crucial.

Ezio doesn't sleep that night or most of the next day. He has seen a lot of things he would never forget, but your body would hunt him to his death. The elderly couple brings him bread and water, but he doesn't touch his food or water. Ezio is too focused on you to care about himself now.

When the doctor returns, he says your fever has spiked down. Your health is still critical, but your chances to live are higher.

Ezio holds into that.

He continues at your bed day and night. He hasn't taken his bloody clothes yet, and quite frankly, he is starting to smell. The old couple again suggests that he takes a shower. They have some clothes from their late son. When Ezio asks what happened to him, they simply answer that Bórgia men killed him.

Thirty-nine hours after rescuing you, Ezio falls asleep. Bianco finds him in a chair, keeping a vigil over your body.

Later that day, the doctor states you are out of danger. He doesn't know when you will wake up and if you ever will. For Ezio, that is enough. He knows you are a fighter, and you won't give up.

It is too dangerous to move you still. Ezio can't leave you. He starts helping around the Inn. He gets some thieves to run away, helps the couple get their money from a man who owes them and maintains the Inn as best as possible.

Ezio talks to you. He shares how life is going. Holds your hand. He shares that he misses you. That he loves you.

He can see your face slowly healing, but no sign of you waking up. He has sent some pigeons informing Claudia, his mom, and the rest of the Brotherhood of your well-being.

On the morning of the seventh day of your rescue, Ezio is helping Bianco in the garden when he hears Pia's scream.

"Ezio, Ezio!"

Running to the house, Ezio enters the room. Pia is near the bed, giving you water and gently holding your head. You are awake.

Ezio stops by the other side of the bed, unable to speak. Pia smiles at him, leaving them. You try to talk, but no voice comes out.

"I thought, I thought I lost you," Ezio confesses, slowly kneeling at your side. "I thought I was going insane. I thought I was getting punished again."

He kisses your bandaged hand so gently that you don't even wince in pain. You want to ask him many questions about how he found you and how you are still alive. Ezio seems to understand your concerns, rubbing your cheek.

"I will explain with time. Just rest now. Rest, amore mio. I will be here when you wake up."

You look at Ezio, really looks at him. Wondering if he can feel the love in your eyes. Ezio seems to understand because he smiles for the first time since he had you back.

"Ti amo anch'io."

MASTERLIST | EZIO'S MASTERLIST

#ezio x you #ezio x reader #ezio auditore x reader #ezio auditore x you #ezio auditore fanfic #ezio auditore fanfics #ezio auditore #ezio auditore imagine #ezio assassins creed #assassins creed x reader #assassins creed fanfic #assassins creed fanfics #ezio auditore da firenze x reader #ezio auditore da firenze x you #DO I LIKE PAIN? MAYBE A LITTLE #SOMETIMES #sorry ezio #you have been too happy with me #time to be MISERABLE

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dinoace2 · 1 year ago

Text

Back and Forth

Anyone else make self-indulgent fics, writing themselves into scenes to try and salvage the situation that had just happened? No? That's a me thing? Ok cool

⚠️⚠️⚠️!!!!!JJK SEASON 2 SPOILERS AHEAD! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!!⚠️⚠️⚠️

Anyway I love Nanami he is my favorite and he deserved better and I sobbed for 2 hours after all that.

The fic surrounds the reader(me lol), a childhood friend of Nanami, born to the inumaki clan but struggled to accept her position. She saw the danger in Shibuya and couldn't simply stand by, so here we are.

>3k words, Angst throughout, but happy(?) and peaceful ending. Segments in italics are memories throughout their past, and the one bolded paragraph is that natrator who explains stuff occasionally. Only kinda proofread ish so if there's grammar issues I am sorry

TW: I feel as though this should be obvious but blood and death will be a recurring thing here. Also she vomits like 3 times

Characters mentioned/involved: reader, Nanami, Mahito, Itadori, Arata Nitta, Shoko, Yaga, and Toge Inumaki.

(Character doesn't know all of these people by name so she describes them, and it is first person so here's the reference list:

Mahito is the stitched man, itadori is the pink-haired kid, Arata is the blonde kid, Shoko is the woman with the cigarette, and Yaga is the man with the sunglasses.)

Ok let's go

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

I shrugged, scrawling out another note on the pad in my lap, then held it out for my friend to read, trying my best to hold it still.

'It isnt that I don't WANT to help people. It's just a lot of pressure, you know? There's thousands of sorcerers out there...surely one can't make a massive difference in the grand scheme of things.'

Nanami looked at the scribble, deciphering my familiar chicken scratch with ease. "I suppose you have a point...and I certainly can't make you do anything but...all I can do is make recommendations. You're incredibly strong, you know that? If you actually put your mind to it...you really could do incredible things with your skills." He smiled, reaching for my hand. "Im sure the higher-ups would still be willing to make you an official sorcerer if you wanted."

I sighed, scribbling another response.

'Yes, but, that's the thing. I don't really WANT to be special or incredible, you know that. I have enough trouble in crowds as it is.'

I paused from my writing and touched my lips, my fingers gently grazing the tattoos on either side of my mouth. I was given these markings when I was way too young to properly have a choice. They're practically a burden as they are, sealing me to a responsibility I never asked for.

'I'll exorcise a minor curse if I happen to run into one, but I really don't see much need in becoming a big fighter like you or Geto or Gojo.'

He let out a sigh, nodding slowly as he looked back at me. "Yes...youre right. I understand."

Of course he does. He's the one who gets it more than anyone else.

He stood up to leave, his seat swaying in his absence, and I crumpled up our conversation, feeling at the paper beneath my fingers. I didn't know it then, but that was the last time we would meet on those old swings.

I wish I were as strong and brave as you,

"KENTO!"

My voice came out in a shrill shreik, cracking and breaking as I shouted a name that no longer had an owner. the lower half of his body crumpled to the floor, much to the glee of the strange figure standing over him. It was instantaneous, one moment he was standing there, and the next...? I couldn't even comprehend what had just happened.

~~~

It was halloween. I had been minding my business when I sensed a massive concentration of cursed energy near Shibuya. Whatever was over there, it was bad. I fought with myself for a long while. Surely the sorcerers could handle it. Surely everything would be fine, it always ended up that way anyway, especially with all the powerful guardians Japan has. I can stay put. What need would they have for a half-rate excuse of a sorcerer who feared her own voice anyway? Its fine.

I froze when I heard the voice. Some kid – no older than fifteen or so – stood at a rooftop, shouting something. I had initially paused because I recognized the name he was screaming to, but my heart sank when I heard what came next.

"NANAMI! NANAMI, WE NEED YOUR HELP! GOJO HAS BEEN SEALED!"

Gojo? As in...the Gojo? How could that-?

I'm not sure why or how but at that point my mind was made up. I changed into something more practical, pulled a mask over my mouth, and left my home to face the very thing I fled from decades ago.

~~~

The train station was nearly silent as I ran through it, sneaking around to avoid confrontation as much as I could.

I heard fighting in one of the terminals, and sensed a massive cursed force, spread out across possibly hundreds of vessels. What the hell...? And...with every hit, every grunt, every sound I heard, it was getting fewer. There was only one sorcerer in there, yet he was...taking on an army. On his own...

When I got closer I finally recognized who i was hearing. Nanami. Of course he was able to take on that much. He's always been strong, so of course this would be no different. I haven't spoken to him in years...maybe after this we can take more time to reconnect. The thought made me smile.

~~~

It was a nice day...we were all too young to be worried about anything...too young to care. I was sitting on the swings with one of my dearest friends, talking over the creak of the old chains. I had recently participated in an incredible family ceremony, and I was so excited for the life ahead of me.

"Grampa called it..um...cursed speak!" I said, my smile bigger than ever as I pointed to the marks on my chubby little cheeks. "I can tell people what to do and they'll do it! Even those ghost thingies that not everyone can see!" I giggled. "I wonder if I can make Mommy clean my room."

My friend chuckled. "Alright, just don't do it to me, okay?"

I nodded. "Okay, Ken! I promise I wont." I put on the most innocent little smile I could. "Youve always done stuff for me anyways, right?"

~~~

As I made it to the terminal, I was frozen in place. It was nearly devoid of life, the demolished corpses of mutated figures piled on the ground around a single person. That was him, wasn't it? Nanami Kento, one of the strongest, most composed men I had ever met, but...he was badly injured, half his torso mutilated, most likely by fire, and he was covered in blood and wounds beyond which I had ever even considered possible. I was so taken aback by the sight that I hardly paid any notice to the stitched-up man that approached him. I heard them speak, only for a brief moment. Nanami turned his gaze to a child who had walked in on the other side and muttered something i couldn't quite hear...

And then he was gone.

"KENTO!"

My cry, unexpected to even me, caught the attention of the man with the stitches. He looked at me, lips peeled back in a too-wide grin.

"Ohhh! You must be a friend of his! I don't think anyone's mentioned you before, so you must be new!" He giggled, stalking forward as more grotesque figures rose around him. "How would you like to join him?!"

For a moment I couldn't move, and in fact it looked like everything was moving in slow motion.

~~~

The same playground, the same people, the same swings. Just...a different time in our lives. We were both stronger, smarter, but still just kids.

"Man, we're gonna be so strong together! And we'll get to hang out so much, too! The academy said we would be in the same class!" I grinned. "Can't wait to beat you up in school! For a grade!" I laughed, feeling the wind on my pale hair as I swung.

Nanami nodded, the same grin on his lips. "I think youve got it wrong, if you think im gonna lose!"

We laughed for a while, until I was brought to an abrupt stop by rough hands on my back. A different kid, much bigger than me, shoved me out of my seat. Another look told me he wasn't a sorcerer, nor did he have any idea what we were capable of. "Youve been on the swings long enough, kid. I've decided it's my turn." He snickered as Nanami ran to my side, helping me up.

I glared at the boy, slightly shaken by the interruption. "H-hey...what was that for?"

He smirked. "Aww, what's the matter? Gonna cry?" He snickered as he took my seat, and I felt Kento's hands ball into fists at my side. "Hey! You better leave her alone!" He growled.

The boy crossed his arms. "Wow, someone's touchy. Why, is she your girlfriend?" He chuckled as Nanami's face went a few shades of red. "I dunno why you'd even wanna be with her anyway. She's got...weird tattoos all over her mouth, like some kinda delinquent who went to jail! Or maybe some circus freak!" His laughter only got louder, and Nanami began to growl as my shoulders shook from humiliation, tears beginning to blur my vision.

My lip quivered but I planted my feet, glaring at the boy in front of me. "Just....go AWAY!" I shouted. The realization hit as soon as the words left my lips, and I clapped a hand over my mouth, but the damage was done.

The boy was flung, almost cartoonishly, forced away as if some invisible monster had thrown him by the ankle. He hit the ground with a hard thud as concerned parents started running over.

I was frozen, I couldn't speak, couldn't think. I did that? Such level of power and destruction, quite literally at the tip of my tongue, and I just....did that?

I didn't talk much after that.

Decided that school wasn't really my thing, either.

~~~

I stared at the approaching man, and the dozens of mutilated human corpses surrounding him. Just how strong was this guy? How could he have done that to Nanami without a second thought? Too much coursed through my head, but one thing was clear.

He wouldn't be continuing.

I pulled down my mask, taking in a deep breath. My lip trembled, my chest shook, and my hands balled into fists.

"Shatter."

All at once, the bodies before me froze, trembling as massive cracks grew up from their feet. They cracked like glass yet their flesh made creaking, squelching noises as they began to break.

In a single, simultaneous moment, every single transmutated monstrosity exploded, a mess of blood, flesh, and gore unlike anything I'd ever seen before. My eyes widened, and my hands shook as I stared on at what remained.

The recoil hit me like a truck, my entire body feeling as if it were about to explode. I doubled over as vomit and blood poured out of my mouth with a pained retch. My throat felt hollow, and my chest felt as if it had been torn open. I could only cough and wheeze and whimper, leaning on the wall to remain upright. In my current state I didn't even notice what had happened right in front of me.

The pieces of the stitched man began to stretch and grow, reforming into his original shape. He looked at me with a twisted grin, slowly stalking toward me.

"Oh! I didn't know you were a cursed speech user! You didn't look like one at first!" I couldn't move as he approached. "But from those markings...youre an Inumaki, huh?" He chuckled.

"Wow....dyed your hair, got a mask on....you must have really wanted to be discreet! Almost like you –" he gasped in false shock, grinning ear to ear. "– Abandoned your clan like a little traitor~! That's fun! I'm all about forging your own path and stuff."

He smirked as he came face to face with my frozen, shaking form. "You abandoned your clan, then came running back to the battlefield to avenge a friend of yours! It would have been noble if it wasn't in vain." He snickered. "Youll die for nothing! How does that make you feel?" He cupped his ear, as though to listen for a response, then cackled. "After a shout like that, you'd be lucky if you could even whisper in the future! I'd expect your vocal cords to be in shreds at this point." He gasped, overcome with an idea. "Ooh, you know what would be even better?! If you went crawling back to your family yourself!"

He grabbed my chin. "I'm in a good mood right about now. So here's how it's going to go. I'll let you walk out of here on your own two feet, so you can stumble on back to that clan of yours and play charades with them until they realize you're their biggest failure of your generation!" He grinned, releasing me and turning toward the pink-haired kid who still stood shocked in the doorway. "Ta-ta now~, better get out of here before I change my mind."

My mind was reeling despite the fact that I couldn't move. This...this curse...had the audacity to tell me to run, with my tail between my legs? To flee, with empty hands, regardless of what more I could do? This thing had the temerity to tell me what to do?

Is that not what I've been trying to avoid my whole life?

~~~

"Incredible," he breathed, astonished. "Youre getting stronger, even if you don't know it." Nanami smiled, sitting on the old swing as I stood in front of him, arms raised as i finished demonstrating an odd move i had come up with and practiced. "Not a lot of people can even comprehend the idea of learning a new cursed technique, yet here you are, creating one of your very own. Impressive work, especially for someone with hardly any formal training."

I grabbed the notepad in my pocket, quickly scrawling a response.

'Its entirely possible that formal training would have suppressed this. If all are taught the general systems, it'll be hard to remain an individual.'

He chuckled. "I guess it's possible. But schooling aside, you really have become something special. Keep honing that skill...keep being you, and I bet you'll one day do something incredible, even if you don't see it. Even now, you found a workaround to vent out your cursed energy without using cursed speech."

I smiled, sitting in the empty swing next to him. I pressed one more folded note into his hand, gently swinging forward and back.

'No matter what I do, and how long we spend apart, you always support me. You give me confidence and let me feel like I can really....do something. And it's something that I want that you always encourage. I never feel forced around you. I suppose I want to say I'm glad you've always stuck by my side. I'm really glad you're my friend.'

Nanami smiled softly then reached over to take my hand, interlacing our fingers.

"Of course. I'm glad you're my friend too."

~~~

I scowled at the curse as he walked away, raising my hands in front of me as I pooled whatever cursed energy I had left into my palms. One hand raised to my eye level, and the other drew back, as though pulling the string of an invisible bow. I could only mouth the words as I conjured my power.

"Cursed technique: toybox."

Toybox: a cursed technique designed and used solely by a forsaken and forgotten member of the Inumaki clan. Playing into the often-overlooked yet highly versatile arsenal of a children's imagination, Toybox allowed its user to concentrate portions of her cursed energy into a physical form, most often taking the shape of a pointed arrowhead or the length of a blade. None could see this "weaponry" aside from the user herself, hence the reference to imagination and childrens' toys.

I took careful aim, seeking to strike the curse at its core. I had one shot at this, and in it, I poured every last bit of power I had left. With a shaky breath and a steady hand, I released the grip that was pulled back, sending the equivalent of a cursed bullet flying at the stitched man.

He was still for a moment, looking down at the sizeable hole in his chest.

His head twisted around unnaturally, only grinning as the wound sealed shut. "Oh dear. I gave you your chance. This simply won't do." He walked back toward me. "You keep distracting me from the person I actually want to kill! And I'm getting tired of wasting my time." He smiled lazily, shrugging. "Buuut, you certainly don't have anything left now. I can tell. You're all out!" He chuckled, as the aftershock of losing so much energy finally hit me like a brick wall.

Almost as if on cue, I clutched my stomach as more blood and bile rose from my throat, and he snickered. With a swift hit to the legs he made my knees buckle, sending me all too quickly to the floor. My head struck tile with a thud, and I'm sure I heard a crack. My vision blurred and my breath hitched, and I couldn't even flinch when his foot sunk into my gut, only drawing forth more blood and vomit.

The man above me sneered. "Youre a pest. And you aren't even worth my time. You were born weak, you lived a coward, and you'll die a failure. Now, instead of dealing with you swiftly like I should have, we're going to find out if it takes longer for you to bleed out, or choke on your own vomit like a wounded dog."

I could only watch as he walked away, gasping, shaking, and unable to move. No matter what I tried, no matter what I wanted to do, I remained still, feeling utterly broken and worthless. My vision was fading, my body beginning to shut down. I heard muffled conversation between the curse and the boy, before it all...stopped.

~~~

My eyes shut tight. Why didn't I feel anything? Why didn't it...hurt? I flinched as I felt a hand on my shoulder, instinctively pulling away and sitting upright. My jaw dropped when I saw him.

"K....Kento...?"

I couldn't believe it. There he was, kneeling in front of me, his blonde hair almost falling in his eyes. He smiled softly, holding out his hand. "...i dont think ive heard you say my name in a long time...did you miss me, by any chance?"

I didn't take his hand, but instead sprung from my spot into his arms, hugging him tightly. My body shook as tears stung my eyes, so many words I never said all rising to the surface.

So much to say, so many questions, so many words, yet the only thing that fell past my lips was, "I'm sorry."

He brushed a strand of hair over my ear, his smile never fading. "Whatever for? I couldn't be prouder of you."

That only caused me to choke on a sob, shaking my head as I buried my face in his chest. "B-but I couldn't fight him...I didn't do anything, I didn't help anyone...." my hands clenched. "I-i failed."

He shook his head, pulling me up to look at him. "My dear, you gave your all to defend a purpose. And I've known you practically our whole lives. Your existence was not in vain...and I can promise that others will agree. I promise, I will never be disappointed in you."

The tears that fell next were of a different kind. "...heh...you always knew how to make me feel better, Ken..."

He smiled, and I paused as I felt his lips press against my forehead. "Of course. Don't you remember? I always do stuff for you." He chuckled, watching my cheeks flush at the memory. I took a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts. Of any possible chance, surely this was the best one I had to say it.

"Kento...you've been...my best friend and my closest ally....our whole lives. My greatest support and beloved confidant..." I whispered, taking his hands. "I love you, Nanami Kento, I always have. I....I know it's far too late to have said anything, and I should have done something better, or-or gone to you sooner, but-"

I was cut off by a calloused hand cupping my cheek, pulling me into the most gentle, loving kiss, like the kind from books that one could only dream for.

He smiled. "Im glad I could hear you say it. It probably would have been awkward if we had to make this exchange with handwritten notes," he chuckled. The off comment made me giggle, and I hugged him again. He simply held me to his chest, wordless, just allowing time to pass.

We spent what felt like hours in each other's arms, exchanging questions and catching up on every detail.

I didn't want to move, didn't want to leave this incredible, impossible moment. Despite the situation, despite what all just happened, I felt...peaceful. Safe. Almost...alive. Nothing else mattered right now.

All of a sudden, i...felt like I was being pulled. As if I was beginning to be torn away from Nanami's arms. He looked down at me, noticing the invisible force.

"Kento, what...what's happening?" I whispered, clinging to him now with more strength.

He...he smiled, brushing back my hair and pressing a kiss to my forehead. "...looks like it's not quite your time yet. You get to keep going."

Fresh tears sprung to my eyes and I shook my head, burying my face in his chest. "N-no, I....I can't...I can't go back...I can't face them...I can't do anything..."

Our embrace was short-lived, and I cried out as I was dragged away.

~~~

"Im getting a response! She's coming back!"

"Easy now, don't overwhelm her."

"Who is she anyway?"

"Im not sure. She's got the marks of the Inumaki, but she doesn't have a sorcerer ID and any other form of identification seems to imply she changed her name."

"Alright, don't interrogate her now, I think she's waking up!"

My eyes squeezed tight, my head was pounding. I heard a lot of voices, too much sound to pay attention to any one thing.

Much as I didn't want to, I opened my eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the light. I was surrounded by people, unfamiliar faces, their gazes all boring into me. I felt like I wanted to disappear.

A blonde boy looked at the others, standing close to me. "I found her near where Nanami was...i-i mean, I wasn't completely sure if she was going to survive but if there was a chance, it seemed worth trying." He turned to me. "Are you feeling alright?" I shrugged, only able to let out a pained sigh. He nodded. "Yeah, i..I bet. All things considered, you don't look too badly injured per se...a couple of cracked ribs...might have a mild concussion from falling...but most of your state seemed to come from a near total drain of cursed energy. What happened?"

I opened my mouth to speak, tried to do something, anything, but the only noise that came out was a creaky, broken groan. My hands reached to my neck, at this point only trying to make a sound. I hadn't spoken in years, but now that I couldn't? Oh god. The only sound that came from my mouth were shaky gasps and raspy hisses.

The boy nodded. "Considering the state you were in, I wouldn't be shocked if your vocal cords are damaged beyond use...here." he pulled out his phone, then held it out to me with the notes app open. I sat up, taking the device and beginning to type, beginning with telling them my name.

'Nanami was an old friend of mine. I might technically be a sorcerer but I left that behind for personal reasons. I saw the veil around Shibuya, though, and i couldn't bring myself to ignore it, especially after I heard that kid yelling about Gojo. I got there when I could, dispatched the transmutated humans and minor curses that I saw as I ran toward the threat. I found that patched-up...thing standing over him, but I couldn't move fast enough to stop it. I used my cursed speech on him but...its almost like I didn't do anything at all.'

I sighed, handing the phone back to him to read. He nodded, relaying the message to the others; a woman in a white coat with a cigarette, and a man with spiky hair, a goatee, and dark, angled sunglasses. They both looked...vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place it at the moment.

The woman frowned. "...an Inumaki girl who was friends with Nanami? I do remember someone like that...she hung out a lot less after a non-sorcerer got badly injured, though. Must've been you." At her words I shrunk into myself, and she nodded as her suspicions were confirmed. "But...you came back. That shows a lot more about you than you realize." She smiled a little, tapping her cigarette. "Takes a lot of courage to do that."

I turned to the boy, reaching out my hand, and he gave me the phone again.

'I never wanted a life like this. If I could've removed my tattoos and just...lived, like a normal person, I absolutely would have. But it's not like I could have ignored a veil that big and an aura that dark.'

I frowned.

'Not like it really mattered anyway. I didn't save anyone, and nearly killed myself in the process. I'm useless. The only thing I did here was cause another casualty.'

The boy read my note and shook his head. "Thats not exactly true. There were remnants of your cursed energy all around that room. Those things all over the place were transmutated humans, bodies crushed and mutilated to that curse's desired form, yet not permitted to die. Your cursed speech laid dozens of suffering, frightened, pained people to rest. It's a hard thing to think about, but...you saved them."

I stared at him, my eyes wide and lip quivering. I...saved them? How could that have been possible, with the image of such gore, such suffering etched into my mind? It doesn't seem right.

"More than that, I sensed your energy that came from something else. It was strong, concentrated. Do you have another cursed technique outside of your speech?" He asked, simple curiosity in his tone. Not accusational, not upset, just wishing to know. At my slight nod he smiled. "Then...you could still help people. Er- if you wanted to, that is. I don't mean to sound like I'm forcing you."

I took his phone and typed another response.

'I don't know yet, if I'm being honest. There's a lot to take in right now. All I ask right now is, if you can, don't tell Toge I'm here. I don't know if he remembers me, but I'm not sure if I can face him.'

As if the curse of fate decided to play yet another cruel joke, I heard a gasp from behind me. A pale-haired boy stared at me, eyes wide. I couldn't see his mouth under the high collar of his jacket, but I could tell exactly who he was. To my surprise he wasn't gawking at the markings on my lips, but looking at me, with a certain level of recognition in his eyes. I couldn't tell quite what emotion he was feeling, nor what he felt about seeing me after so long.

I never wanted to speak more desperately than I did in that moment. He was so...so small when I left. So young. I'm not sure he even knew why I had gone. I opened my mouth to speak, begging and pleading that I could just get one word out.

My lips moved to a silent voice, tears falling down my cheeks. "Toge, I-"

He didn't even let me try to continue, and I felt myself enveloped in the tightest, most caring hug I had gotten in years. A soundless sob shook in my chest as I clung to him with all I had. My mouth moved over and over again, repeating 'I'm sorry' and 'forgive me' endlessly. The man in the sunglasses chuckled. "Looks like someone missed you."

I couldn't believe it. After everything, after all this time, I was simply...welcomed? Forgiven? After my shortcomings, my failures, my pain, I could still...do something? Be something? No one was upset, and instead it seemed they...or at least Toge, was happy to see me. Despite the tragedy, despite all the suffering...it was like I still meant something. This sense of belonging, of support, everyone had everyone's backs, and everyone was working toward a common goal: making the world a safer place.

When toge let go of me, I picked up the phone one more time, typing a final message with a smile. This level of enthusiasm was something I hadn't felt since I was little, and I was almost relieved to have it back again. I handed the device back to its owner, and he read it aloud to the woman and man, each with a knowing smile on their face.

"How do I come back?"

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

Fin.

Thanks for reading :]

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jjk spoilers #nanami x reader

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x0401x · 10 months ago

Photo

The saga continues.

So it's been a year since the anime ended, and a little bit more than that has passed since I got these asks. As you guys know, I always reply to messages, no matter how long it takes. And I really needed time to reply to these. I don't even mean just because I'm living alone in Tokyo and have to juggle grad school, part-time job, my actual job and doing all the housework by myself, plus occasional fun immigrant paperwork things. I mean all of this and the fact that I had to go out and actually do research for a lot of things regarding volume 3, in order to confirm the conclusions I took reading it. I also went to Japanese Twitter to see people's analysis of this volume and of the previous volumes, especially MasaMina, because this book is one of the most complex novels I've ever read. The amount of hidden meaning in EVERYTHING is no fucking joke. And as I wrote, I just kept finding more of it. I remember saying way back when S1 was airing that Tsurune had many, many layers. This volume, however, had infinite layers. Again, no joke.

I feel like what has transpired in this book is what Ayano Kotoko actually wanted to do from the very beginning, but there was no guarantee of whether the series would be successful enough to get a continuation, so she had to hold back at first, and then she dumped into volume 3 all that she hadn't been able to include in volumes 1 and 2. It's honestly no surprise that this one was so convoluted. It made me start to think that series should've been a seinen manga instead. So yeah, there was a lot that I had to check while writing this actual essay. Because yes, that's just how gigantic it turned out to be. 20 pages on Word. Even I was surprised when I finished it. Scratch that, I was terrified.

I have to say that I feel utterly insane for making this post. I know that a lot of you guys are aware of how difficult life has been for me over here, how I haven't been able to stay consistently active online in the past two years. I also know that the fandom is dead as hell right now in the overseas side. I'm sure nobody would've minded if I had never finished writing this thing, but I wanted to. More like I wouldn't be able to rest easy unless I did it. I feel like I needed to have the hidden things, theories and interpretations of what happened in this volume written down all in one place, even if we never get any more volumes. Kind of like a reference book so that people can look back on it whenever they need to remember what is what.

I have noted that most novel readers on both the Japanese and the overseas sides of the fandom have either gravely misunderstood this volume or didn't really get much of it. No surprise here, because, I have said this six years ago and I will say it again: although Tsurune is an amazing novel, it's not well-written. Especially volume 3. So this is an attempt to explain what transpired in it, at least on the MasaMina side of things, which is what you guys have requested. That's about 2/3 of the book anyways, lol.

Warning for insanely long post under the cut.

Before I begin, by all means, guys, share this post with anyone you know who also has questions or things they didn't understand about volume 3. Chances are you will find the explanations for them here. If you don't, then don't hesitate to hit me up, because for now, I'll have more free time to answer asks.

Anyway, here's the much-requested continuation of the Tsurune Bible, one year in the making (which now even has its own tag, just to make things easier for you guys and myself, lmao).

This volume already starts out serving MasaMina from the cover. It’s just so cute that Masaki has been slowly approaching Minato in each cover until they’re finally side by side, lol. Gotta love that Minato’s yugake and underglove look like a hand on top of another in the back cover. Good symbolism, good food.

In this volume, Masaki and Minato’s first interaction is kinda like volume 2, where Masaki amuses himself with shit Minato says. The boys are fucking around with Minato, having told the kouhai that touching his forehead brings luck and proceeding to come up with different versions of the rumor, in all of which some part of Minato’s body brings good fortune. Masaki says it’s actually Minato’s feet that they have to rub, and tells Minato to “get his legs out”. Yes, this is the mandatory old man joke, because Masaki just has to tell at least one in every volume, and it has to involve Minato. Minato asks him to cut it out, saying that he’s neither Pindola nor Billiken, which reminds me of an interaction from volume 1, where Masaki beckons Minato into the dojo like he’s a small animal, prompting Minato to assert that he’s neither a dog nor a cat. Masaki breaks into giggles and contemplates patting Minato’s head like usual, but doesn’t do it. We readers know that this novel always comes full circle later on, and this interaction is no exception.

The initial portrayal of MasaMina in this volume immediately turns angsty despite this wholesome moment, because Minato is actually having a hard time dealing with Masaki avoiding him lately. The yearning and obsession with Masaki’s eyes has reached a new level in this volume, if that was even possible. Masaki has been consciously dodging Minato’s eyes, and this upsets Minato to a point where he starts doing the same to Masaki, because finding Masaki’s gaze only to have it turn away from him is too much for Minato to handle. And unbeknownst to Minato, Masaki doesn’t really want to be doing this, but he has to, and he also feels bad when Minato avoids him.

Following this bullshit is a hint that I’m sure most people missed, and I would’ve missed it too if someone hadn’t pointed it out on Twitter. This novel, as we’re painfully aware, is full of galaxy brain shit, especially when it comes to MasaMina. But this volume goes so fucking overboard. Around page 66, there’s a joke about Seiya mothering Minato, because that’s also mandatory, but the joke isn’t like the previous volumes. “Seiya home security, protecting you 24 hours a day 365 days a year”. 365 days a year, meaning leap years are not included. If the year has 366 days, Seiya won’t be able to protect Minato for one day.

No, the OP wasn’t reading too much into it, I promise. Stick with me here, y'all.

I know that the anime might have confused everyone as to which year Tsurune is supposed to be set in, as the second season implies it's set in 2023. However, the novel begins from the year 2016, its year of publication. That means Minato was born in the year 2000 and that the accident that killed his mother happened in 2012, both of which are leap years. He also had his first proper meeting with Masaki in 2016, yet another leap year. So basically, Minato's most life-changing events happen in leap years.

Apparently, same goes for Masaki. He had to change his name in his last year of high school, and in that same year, he got target panic and his master forsake him. The following year, 2012, was when he received the death certificate of his brother and became estranged from his grandfather. That was on his birthday, so it was summer. The novel doesn’t mention in which season the accident with Minato and his mother happened, but according to the anime, it was in summer. Both events definitely did not happen on the same day, ‘cause if Minato’s mom’s death was on the same day as Masaki’s birthday, this would’ve already been mentioned at some point. But they happened within a short time gap from one another, that’s for sure.

Soulmates just be synchronizing like that. It’s been going on since volume 1, where they’re so obviously mirrors of each other that literally everyone can see it. Not to mention that really bad things and really good things happen to them alternately, in a way that they always come off as even in the end. The scars, losing members of their families to tragedy, target panic, “I now understand where my master was coming from” moments, near-death experiences related to car accidents, sixth sense, a keen connection to gods and the supernatural, get along well with nature and now, as established in this volume, allergy to poison/venom. I say poison because ginkgo fruits and seeds are actually poisonous on main, but most people can handle eating them if it’s in small amounts. Minato can’t, though. As for giant hornet venom, it usually doesn’t go as far as killing people, but Masaki must've nearly died from it, or else he wouldn’t carry an antidote with him. All volumes are adamant about Masaki and Minato being mystic creatures living amongst men, who find comfort in the natural and spiritual worlds, and who are pure not just in mind but also body.

Let’s not forget that just like Minato, Masaki also has someone who acts like a guardian around him. Ren, who wanted to protect Masaki from his issues with his grandfather, but failed at it. Who wished Masaki would quit archery for his own good, only to watch him go back to it because Minato happened. Who watched Masaki almost die saving Minato’s life and God knows if he really meant what he said when assuring Minato that it wasn't his fault. Who messes around with Minato to no end, and maybe he does it partly to take out his frustration with Minato's existence on Minato himself. Who is always the one to reveal the dark parts of Masaki’s past and how Masaki isn't a normal person. Who called Minato a marebito. Seiya probably has a similar sentiment regarding Masaki. “Maybe it would’ve been better for you not to have met him,” is what both he and Ren implied at first. But turns out neither Minato nor Masaki would be where they are without meeting each other, as confirmed way back in the last tournament of volume 1. Bad things have always happened to them, but they can overcome them thanks to their karmic connection to each other, be it direct or indirectly.

Ayano just loves this bound by fate trope and takes it to extremes. No news spotted.

Back to the dog and cat thing, the next MasaMina hint we get is actually in a scene where Masaki doesn’t show up—the one where Minato tells his teammates that he feels like he’s being watched lately. Obviously, Masaki is the one watching him when he's not looking. He just doesn't realize that because he's also incidentally avoiding Masaki.

A little later into that scene, he has The Talk with Nanao about Masaki not looking him in the eye lately. This part is ridiculously funny for so many reasons. Firstly because it bothered Minato so much literally everyone could tell. Because of course it would. Not getting his daily dose of Masaki’s undivided attention is torture for this poor little bastard. Secondly, the suggestive way that Minato talks about anything concerning Masaki is just too much. Ayano doesn’t even try to hide that Minato’s wording gives people the wrong idea—Nanao immediately assumes he's having love troubles, because of course that’s what it sounds like.

When Minato says that’s not really it, Nanao resorts to calling the individual in question “the person Minato is interested in”, which… still makes it sound like it’s love troubles, lmfao. And it's a deliberate word choice, because when Minato denies that it’s love, Nanao prefaces his next sentence with a “hmmm”, as if he doesn’t believe it for a single second. Maybe this doesn’t translate well into languages other than Japanese, but it’s the sound that people make when they don’t really believe what they’re hearing. Kind of a “you sure, buddy?” expression. Then again, Minato isn’t lying. I have said it time and time again, but this isn’t a BL novel, yet the author loves her ships and would totally make them canon if she could. Therefore, her approach is to make it so that the characters’ feelings for each other can be taken as both platonic and romantic, with neither canceling the other.

In Minato’s case, he does love Masaki. The whole series makes it clear enough. However, that love can manifest as anything. As in, it’s a platonic relationship on main, but if there were a window for it to turn into a romantic one, I honestly doubt he’d turn it down. Because there was one later in this volume, and he didn’t. Ultimately, Minato seems to be in love, but as it is posteriorly revealed, he’s happy just being by Masaki’s side. Therefore, he doesn’t see Masaki as a possible target for romance—actually, this volume suggests that he has to make a conscious effort not to see him as such. So when Minato denies to be talking about love, he means it, because he isn’t trying to pursue Masaki. But that, again, is a deliberate word choice from the author. He denies to be talking about love, but he never denies being in love. Nanao’s reaction is also deliberate, and surely he knows exactly who Minato is talking about. Or else, his reaction wouldn’t make sense.

And then comes something that just shook me to the core when reading this scene for the first time. They hear the cry of a varied tit. In Japanese culture, the varied tit is known as a tricky bird, lmao. This, too, is deliberate. Even because it’s not the first time that a bird is used to represent what’s going on in a scene. In volume 1, when Minato is riding his bicycle and ends up at the Yata Shrine, he’s guided there by a grey wagtail. In Japanese, the name of this bird is “kisekirei”, which can be read as “spirit of miracles”. Someone on Japanese Twitter pointed out that the grey wagtail is said to be a herald of love (as in romantic love, exclusively) in Japanese culture. Again, Minato denies to be talking about love, but narrative devices come in to suggest that he is in love, regardless.

Nanao is one of these narrative devices. He’s presented as being in the same situation as Minato in this scene, essentially saying the same things as him. When he says he isn’t too bothered at being dropped as a regular and that all he wants is to be around Kaito, he means it, but that's not entirely true. It’s revealed afterward that he actually was frustrated. He fights hard to be placed as regular again, and Kaito is the one to give him motivation for it. Like Minato, Nanao wasn't lying. It's just that, at this point in the story, he hadn’t yet realized how he truly felt.

And all that shoujo jazz.

Hilariously enough, much like Nanao didn’t seem to believe Minato, Minato also doesn’t seem to believe what Nanao says. He translates Nanao’s thoughts like he’s reading Nanao’s mind (“I want you to be by my side”), because that’s exactly how he feels too, about Masaki. But again, although just being around Kaito is what he wants now, Nanao starts wanting more later. Then what about Minato? Does he start wanting more along the way as well? Ayano flings that information at us and tells us to make of it what we will, but the text throws a big “yes” at our faces later on.

Following this comes the infamous “don’t look at me like that” scene, where Minato is trying to talk to Masaki and Masaki insists on leaving it for after the training camp. The way that Minato just comes at him with a question worded in the most painful manner possible is fucking delightful. Masaki had the whole trauma with being ignored by his master in the past, so when Minato asks if he’s so bad a disciple that it warrants Masaki ignoring him, that’s probably the worst thing he’s heard so far as a coach.

Similarly, when Masaki tells Minato, “I’m really sorry, but please don’t look at me with those eyes”, that’s probably the worst thing he’s heard from him. At least I can’t recall anything else Masaki has said that brought him to the verge of tears like that. But turns out it’s the opposite of what he thinks: Masaki is avoiding him because it’s so obvious that he’s The Favorite TM that everyone else is getting jealous. And then the whole thing just transforms into double-entendre, because it’s also mandatory for these dumbasses to have at least one conversation that makes them sound like a couple in every volume.

“You too, Minato—you wouldn’t react when I waved at you.”

“That’s ‘cause I thought you didn’t want to look me in the eye.”

“It’s not like I don’t want to, but it puts me in a spot sometimes.”

“What do you mean ‘in a spot’? Just spill it out.”

“There are times when I also really wanna stroke that forehead of yours, but I can’t let anyone see us like that now, can I?”

“Wha… Wha… What’s up with that?”

That's fucking clownery, Ayano. Low blow, Ayano.

No, but, seriously. How does this woman come up with such out-of-pocket shit like this? It’s better than any romantic comedy I’ve ever come across in my life. Minato completely misunderstanding and assuming the worst when the truth is that his master is actually looking after him is no news in this series. It has happened in the previous volumes as well and it's one of the staples of their relationship, but it’s also so chick flick-like it drives me nuts. The whole “you were actually being showered with care and kindness in the only way he could give it to you at that moment” thing is delicious. And so is Minato’s realization that Masaki is feeling just as bad as Minato for having to distance himself. That he wants things to be like before but can’t afford it because it would disrupt the harmony of the club. Like, yeah, king! Go get punched in the gut with affection! You (unironically) deserve it!

This follows a pattern that happens in every volume, where Masaki always, at some point, has to do something for Minato’s own sake that ends up upsetting him, which in turn upsets Masaki as well. And when Minato confronts him about it, he finds out that Masaki was actually caring for him all along and gets all flustered. In volume one, this happens when Masaki tells Minato that he should join his friends at the club because he wouldn’t be coming to the Yata-no-Mori kyudojo forever, which means Minato would eventually be drawing his bow alone. This completely screws Minato up internally, because how dare you give me so much and then suddenly announce that you’ll leave me in the near future. But turns out Masaki just thought that this would be the best for Minato, and when Minato finds out the truth, he’s “so embarrassed he could die”. Jump to volume 2, where they fight over Minato’s recklessness in regard to his injury and his bad form, and Masaki finds himself having to forbid Minato from coming to practice. Minato loses it because you’re the one who got me back into archery, yet now you try to take the bow away from me. And then he realizes where Masaki was coming from, and calls him an idiot because he’s frustrated.

Ayano clearly likes to do this kinda shit where Minato gets insecure assuming the worst whenever he’s deprived of anything related to Masaki, only to reveal that it was for his own good, then having them resent the lack of proper communication in-between. All in all, these situations are portrayed in a heartwarming way that showcase Masaki is actually a responsible adult and Minato is, as he says, a very cute disciple. But it also makes it look like married couple bickering, because this woman just loves fucking with us like that.

And also because this follows the same pattern as what archery means to Minato.

In every single volume, something happens that deprives him not only of Masaki, but of archery itself, because to him, those two things are connected. When he feels like Masaki is about to disappear from his sight in volume 1, he begs him to stay. When he’s forbidden from coming to practice, he could’ve just gone to Saionji or practiced at home with the rubber bow if he wanted, but instead, he kept coming to the dojo like the jealous little bitch he is to watch Masaki teaching everyone but him. Minato’s love for archery and his love for Masaki are portrayed in the very same way. He gets burned by them at some point, but he also gets healed upon understanding that the burn was for the sake of growth. Just as it says in the last tournament of volume 3:

“Goodbye” is a spell. Something devised from the very beginning.

The sound of a knock on the door. Ringing through.

Yearning, chasing, wishing.

Crouching down, struggling, being doubted and scorned.

Raging, despairing, cursing.

Repenting, lamenting, accepting death.

And when one gives up…

They bow down their heads, love, forgive. Thus the door finally opens.

“Welcome,” it greets.

To love means to forgive yourself and others.

Just like with archery, Minato yearns and chases and wishes for Masaki, but he hits walls along the way. It breaks him and he literally goes through the five stages of grief when it happens, but then he decides to accept it and face Masaki about it. And in doing so, he finds out the truth, and with the truth comes the catharsys. He finds himself even more in love with archery, so I'm willing to bet that his love for Masaki also deepens whenever these misunderstandings are solved. The reason why he gets so disproportionally flustered in the aftermath is because, on the inside, Minato is like, “So you were thinking of me all this time??? You weren’t trying to abandon me???? I love you so much????? Fuck you?????”

And maybe he also gets flustered at how Masaki words his arguments? I mean. “I can’t let anyone see us like that” undebatably refers to not letting other people see them being intimate with each other. It’s not the first time that Masaki talks like this. In volume 2, for example, there was that one scene where Masaki told Minato to not “take on anyone’s style” but his. Minato was also extremely flustered back then, thinking that Masaki didn’t have to word it that way. This is one more thing that only works in Japanese, because the expression he used was “don’t dye yourself in anyone’s color other than mine”. “Dyeing oneself in another’s colors” means taking on someone’s way of doing things, and it’s an expression most often used to describe the role of a wife in marriage, where she’s expected to “dye herself in her husband’s colors” (as in, to follow his way of thinking and do what he says). This is a double-entendre that can be read as “don’t you cheat on me”, and we’re completely free to interpret Minato’s reaction as “you didn’t have to make it sound suggestive, what am I supposed to do with that thought now”.

In that same fashion, when Masaki says they can’t afford to let other people see them being so close or else it’ll give them the wrong idea (which is actually the right idea, because Minato is indeed his favorite disciple), it gives Minato, for a split second, a free sample of what it would be like if they were in a relationship. Because if Minato were in love with Masaki, as the birds imply, then this way of interpreting Masaki’s words is 100% something that would go through his head in that moment. Actually, even if he weren’t in love with Masaki, the wording is inexcusably implicative. There’s a million other ways he could have put it. But if we take it from a “Minato is in love” perspective, it’s easy to understand why Masaki’s word choice only adds up to his frustration, and his reaction makes even more sense. Again, the text gives us leeway to read it like that, and it’s intentional. It wasn’t written in this way by coincidence, nor is it a coincidence that we get this kinda shit at least once per volume.

I feel like I’m repeating myself a lot in this analysis, but much like everything else in Tsurune, their relationship is cyclical. This shit is going to happen all the time with these two, as if it’s a rule between them. Masaki does the best for Minato and ends up hurting him in the process without meaning to, which means he’s also hurting. And when everything is solved, Minato doesn’t know what the fuck to do with himself, because that’s how much he loves Masaki. It’s almost like Masaki himself is an embodiment of archery for Minato at this point.

The whole process of shooting in Japanese archery, as stated in volume 2, is about severing your life and being reborn. Minato’s journey with archery has also been one of having his love for it be tested, and when it seemed he was about to lose it, the fire is set alight again by Masaki. His affection for Masaki goes through the same path, and just when he thinks Masaki is about to turn his back to him, he gets this kind of dopamine dump and is able to reaffirm that their bond would never break so easily. In fact, any little bit of logic would be enough for him to realize that, but although Minato is a pragmatic person in general, logic just doesn’t apply when it comes to Masaki. This is entirely mutual, because the same things happen to Masaki as well. He can’t look at Minato in the eye because it obviously makes him feel guilty, and when Minato dodges him, he gets a taste of what he himself is doing to Minato. It's all about retribution, which is a concept present in Shinto, Buddhism and Japanese archery.

The realization that Masaki was avoiding him for his own sake makes Minato lose it. He probably would’ve reverted to calling Masaki an idiot or a pervert and lashed out at him like usual if his grandparents hadn’t arrived to the scene. And then what happens next felt like a fucking fever dream. I still remember the first time I read it so damn vividly. The way the elderly couple just stormed in and presumed that Minato was crying for entirely different reasons. Minato trying to undo the misunderstanding. The car accident suddenly being brought up. The iroha poem that Minato’s mom used to sing being mentioned out of fucking nowhere. Masaki being Masaki and interpreting it for Minato and, again for whatever reason, has to put a hand on Minato's back while doing it. It’s all just so fast and ridiculously shippy. The stupid couple vibes, the way that Minato’s grandmother seems to approve of Masaki and bless the relationship by asking Masaki to “take care of Minato forever”. Seiya and Kaito watching over them from a distance and worrying whether everything was gonna go well or not. It’s all like a reverse parallel to when Ren asked Minato to take care of Masaki, except unfortunately very rushed. Just MasaMina being shoved down our throats as per usual, except lightning style.

On the topic of shoving down throats, the following scene with Masaki spitting his coffee when Minato’s apron fell down has puzzled people for the longest time now. To this day, I can’t really explain what happened here. I’ve seen people speculating that it was “lucky lechery”, and ugh. Ew. Gross. But though I can’t really imagine it, it’s true that he didn’t spit the coffee due to the sight being funny. He wasn’t laughing. And he was the only one who was so weirdly surprised. I have a lot of qualms about thinking of it that way, but Masaki has always been portrayed as having the dirty mind of an old man. Honestly, it’s disturbing to imagine it, but an intrusive thought isn’t... too far-fetched. What makes me feel not so bad about this is the fact that, looking back on the talk between Minato and Nanao, it’s easy to figure not only that Minato is “interested” in Masaki, but also that, whatever the way he looks at Masaki is, Masaki doesn’t correspond. With that in mind, I'd rather interpret this apron scene as Masaki being caught off-guard.

As Minato says, he’s looking at Masaki, but Masaki has his eyes on the Gods. Of course, Masaki was properly looking at Minato, as we know, just in a different way from how Minato looks at him. Masaki was being a responsible master and watching over his disciple in spite of everything. So by all accounts, Minato’s feelings are not reciprocated, which again pushes the idea that Minato is in love. If his distress was just from him being concerned with his master as a disciple and nothing else, this would fall into their master-disciple dynamics and therefore would automatically be reciprocated. There’s no other way around it. Masaki is looking at him as a disciple and Minato is… doing something else entirely. Again, whatever that something else is has been left to our imagination, but the birds are just fucking unexplainable from any perspective that isn’t romantic. They didn’t even have to be there. Hell, the café scene was also completely unnecessary.

Amazing how this book still has the power to make me lose my fucking mind.

First hint of the “imina” is dropped as Masaki tells the boys about it, and Minato concludes that it is “the name of a life”. In Japanese, this is written as 命の御名, and there are two ways to read 御名. One of them is “gyomei” and the other is “mina”. “Gyomei” is used when referring to the name of the emperor, while “mina” is used when referring to a name that is sacred, such as the name of a god. The one that Ayano chooses as the furigana here is “mina”. Of course, this also is a reference to Minato’s name, as well as foreshadowing to the whole thing with Masaki’s birth name.

More foreshadowing ensues as Minato is shown giving instructions and teaching the kouhai in the next scene. I didn’t catch it at first, but it was really just him doing that amongst the upperclassmen, so yeah, future coach!Minato putting his skills on display once again. I say once again because it’s not the first time he gives advice to people regarding archery. He’s been doing it since volume 1, with Manji. Many mistook him for being savage back then, but he was giving candid advice when he warned Manji about target panic. Not to mention that he has the ability of setting people’s souls ablaze and making them want to draw the bow. He’s got talent for it.

This goes on right before Hikaru watches him talk to Masaki like they’re a married couple. Just obvious as fuck. Hikaru is shipping this shit. I’m only half-joking when I say this, because he quite literally considers himself “lucky to be around them”. He’s canonically enjoying this domestic load of bull. Now, I don’t know how many people noticed, but the way Hikaru thinks of them is pretty damn unnatural. Maybe it’s just me, but this struck me as intentional. I feel like he was being used as a reminder for how the readers should view these two. Unfortunately, thanks to the anime, many people got the wrong impression about Masaki and his relationship with Minato, which is most definitely not how Ayano wants people to see them. I mean, let’s be honest, fellow readers. We know that Masaki is her favorite character and this is her favorite relationship. I honestly believe she wants us all to see them in the way Hikaru does: a master and his disciple being cute with each other.

The dialogue is also gold. The way that Minato is able to deduct that Masaki’s offer to come to his place and look for the book he wants inevitably means having to clean up in the process. The way that Masaki can tell that Minato knows what’s coming just from him saying that it’d be a pain in the ass. Him responding with, “Don’t think you can get fish without doing some work” and Minato retorting that he’s more into red meat than fish. This was the author’s way of showing that these idiots are in the same wavelength. The good humor and wholesomeness is palpable in how sassy and comfortable they are with one another. There’s mad levels of intimacy here, which is, again, completely unnecessary plot-wise. It’s there because Ayano wants it to be there. Not to mention that there’s double-entendre again.

I’m talking about the “vegetarian” and “carnivore” part of the conversation here. In Japanese, “vegetarian” and “herbivore” are the same word. Y’all know the terms that Japanese people use to define who’s passive and who’s dominant in a relationship? Yep, that’s right, it’s “herbivore” and “carnivore”. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but with the amount of hidden meaning, suggestiveness and word play that this volume has, I don’t even doubt anything anymore. And we gotta be real here: as far as all 3 volumes go, Minato is ridiculously physical when it comes to Masaki. Not only is Masaki the person he has more physical contact with, he’s the only character whose touch and presence Minato actually craves. He’s always reaching out to grab Masaki, and just the prospect of not getting his fix of head pats is literally enough to make him tear up. And Minato isn’t even the kind of person who likes physical contact. More often than not, he’s annoyed by it, if it’s coming from anyone else. That aside, he’s also weirdly physical when he’s thinking about Masaki. I’ve said this time and time again, but Minato often describes Masaki in his head in ways that sound very much like he’s physically attracted to Masaki. So far, the descriptions of Masaki that we’ve gotten from Minato’s point of view are:

He’s got basically every Japanese ideal trait of conventional attractiveness

Has “adult charm but still retains some childishness in him”

Warm hands, slender fingers, bewitching eyes

A smile like the New Moon

And as most recently defined by this volume, smells really fucking good (at least to Minato)

All of these are physical things. And we always get this from Minato’s perspective only. Meanwhile, Minato obviously has nothing that Masaki would be physically attracted to, of course. But even while putting Minato aside as an option (because he’s not at all an option), Masaki is a priest. Yes, Shinto priests can get married, and they don’t even have to be married to have sex, so there are no inhibitions imposed on him in that regard. But even then, due to their lifestyle, Shinto priests tend to be abstinent. This is something I read on an interview with an actual Shinto priest, and Masaki seems to fit into the stereotype, given that he doesn’t seem to be remotely interested in romantic relationships or being sexually involved with anybody. He doesn’t have a girlfriend, isn’t anyone’s “friend with benefits”, and doesn’t appear to give a shit. This isn’t because he’s too busy or doesn’t have social life. As established in volume 2, he has always had many friends, and he himself says it in volume 3 that he thinks all women are beautiful. However, “the only ones he considers to be cute are his disciples”. What I’m trying to say is: regardless of Masaki’s dirty jokes and old man attitude, he might actually be the more pure-hearted one between him and Minato in that regard. He definitely doesn’t have any idea that Minato thinks those things about him, and if he knew, he’d be taken aback for sure.

By the way, quick translator's note here, but when Masaki says that “the only ones he considers to be cute are his disciples”, the word “disciple” is actually not in plural form. Basically, we're free to interpret that as either him talking about all his disciples... or just one. And the second option is the most likely to be what he means, because the club is full of female members now. It wouldn't make much sense for him to draw a line between "women" and "disciples" when half of said disciples are girls.

Just take that piece of trivia and run with it.

Another implication that Masaki doesn’t get the effect he has on Minato is the scene where everyone goes out to play in the dog and cat park. Seiya had clearly planned for Masaki to go with the first-years instead of with them. When I first read this volume, I was weirded out by how Seiya suddenly turned into a prick to Masaki and began to resemble his anime counterpart. But then, in-between, he would be acting like his usual self, teaming up with Masaki to debate with Kaito and Keima, unintentionally laughing at Masaki’s old man joke, lending the marker to Masaki so that he can scribble on Takumi’s face, etc. Minato and Kaito’s passiveness also struck me as kind of weird, because if Seiya were being outright hostile on purpose, they wouldn’t stand for it. This led me to believe he wasn’t just being a little bitch, and at some point, Seiya in this volume started reminding me a lot of how Kaito acted with Minato when they had just met. And then I realized that this is probably what Ayano was going for here.

Back when Minato was still trying to avoid being part of the archery club despite Seiya’s attempts to get him into it, Kaito was criticizing him for not making it clear enough that he was never going to join. Minato obviously gave off the vibes of someone who still loved archery and wanted to do it, so in spite whatever he said, Kaito was basically arguing, “Well, it ain’t working. Try harder”. Seiya is taking this same approach with Masaki, except without saying anything directly to him. Other than that, he also seems to be doing kind of the same as Ren does with Minato.

Seiya was the one who did the poll with the club members, so he was the first person to find out that they thought Masaki favored the second-years, especially Minato. And the problem here is: the first-years aren’t wrong. Masaki really does lean towards the second-years, not exactly because he likes them more, but because he’s closer to them, having already been with them for a whole year. As for Minato, the second-years know how deep his bond with Masaki goes, but the first-years don’t, so there’s no convincing them that this is fair. What does Seiya do? He pushes Masaki away from them—away from Minato, in particular—and onto the first-years. And in this process, he’s probably aware that he’s hurting his best friend, which definitely leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, so he takes it out on Masaki. It’s killing two birds with one stone. He gets to throw shade at Masaki for making him do this while also being like, “Who said we’re close to this guy? Nuh-uh, not me” in front of the first-years.

Speaking of shade, the comments Seiya makes on Masaki in this volume are pretty damn interesting. They all have something in common. Can y’all guess what it is?

“Amazing, Masa-san. So you’re a mix of monk, priest and old man.”

“Now, Masa-san, please go tag along with the first-years. You’re the one responsible for looking after us, right? Your club president will be watching over the second-years, so rest easy.”

“He’ll be just fine; he’s an adult.”

“If you know it, Masa-san, that means you’re also someone from ancient times.”

Yep. All of them contain reminders that Masaki is a grown-up, specifically. It’s like Seiya is saying, “You’re a grown man; get your act together”, just like Kaito was saying to Minato, “You’re an archer; get your act together”. It’s funny as hell that Minato is always present during these moments, so it might as well also be a reminder to Minato that Masaki is an adult and he isn’t, lmao. Other than that, this attitude of Seiya’s also feels like one more dig on the anime and how it portrayed him and Masaki. How it looks on the surface like Seiya is being gratuitously offensive when, in reality, he’s siding with Masaki.

It’s almost like the author is doing her own little rebellion and I’m here for this shit.

On the topic of making digs on the anime, I have to be honest about one thing that I felt throughout this whole volume. We know that the tendency is for it to get gayer the further the story progresses, but even so, we gotta admit that Ayano tripled down on the gay this time around. It was a lot, to the point that I saw people from the Japanese side of the fandom calling Tsurune a BL novel, both ironically and not, and saying that this volume had “too much gay”. This isn’t normal, guys. But although it makes me feel bad for the author seeing reviews like these, I must say I kinda get where they’re coming from. I was highkey shocked every time the characters had a “moment” with each other—not just Minato and Masaki but also Seiya and Kaito, and although they barely showed up in this volume, Eisuke and Koushirou too. Because, my God, it was all so visceral and heavy. Some parts gave me diabetes while others basically ripped my heart off my chest.

Am I complaining, though? Absolutely not. I’ll take a whole ton more of that. Still, there’s something about it that I can’t shake off my head even now. Very often did these passages feel like covert criticism toward the anime, as well as Ayano’s compromise with what she wanted her story to be. Like, “Oh, so the anime is portraying Masaki as an asshole using his students to seek revenge on his dead grandfather? Here’s him and Minato being domestic as fuck.” Or, “Oh, so the anime ignores Seiya and Kaito’s relationship? Here’s Seiya being sweet to Kaito and acting like his girlfriend.”

And don’t get me wrong, I do think she’s eternally grateful to KyoAni for picking up her work and not only publishing but also animating it, but that doesn’t mean she has to agree with what has been done with her story and characters. I mean, it’s so far removed from what she’s doing. I also see people in the Japanese side of the fandom commenting about how different the anime is from the original, and that it’s best to view both as separate stories. This isn’t normal either, although I saw it happen to Violet Evergarden as well. Add that to the fact that Ayano never gave any interviews, or even wrote a creator’s comment outside of the novel afterwords. I reiterate that do think she is thankful to KyoAni, but yeah, I also believe she resents the anime to an extent, and it shows in this volume.

Now back to the analysis.

One of the gayest things ever presented in the entire franchise is the reference to “Greensleeves”. Nothing could’ve prepared me for that shit. I have answered an ask about this scene where I break down and analyze the KaiSei side of it, which can be found here. This is one of the many instances where KaiSei is a direct parallel to MasaMina. Kaito talks about how the dog that Seiya is petting is “so clingy”. Minato has to deal with sharing Masaki with more club members this year, many of whom are openly crushing on him, so he’s jealous all over again. Kaito wonders if it’s okay for him to try to catch up to Seiya, who is full of secrets. Minato often tells Masaki not to treat him like a child and it’s always through him that we are shown Masaki and Ren keep a lot of secrets. Kaito wants to know what burdens Seiya and hopes that Seiya would share the load with him, rely on him. Meanwhile, Minato doesn’t mind Masaki not wanting to tell him about his circumstances, because an adult shouldn’t try to rely on a child to share his problems. However, Minato makes it very clear that he will stop Masaki if Masaki ever attempts doing something dangerous. Which means Masaki doesn’t even have a choice here—he will have Minato pull him out of the Crimson Lotus Hell whether he wants it or not. But I’m now getting a little ahead of myself. Let’s go back to “Greensleeves”.

English: Alas, my love, you do me wrong Greensleeves was all my joy Greensleeves was my delight

Japanese: Aah, my love, you're such a cruel one Greensleeves, you were my joy Greensleeves, such merry days I was happy just being by your side

The author’s choice of song and verses are… interesting, to say the least. The translation that comes with it is very interesting too, because it’s how she interprets the lyrics. The fact that “alas, my love” is a phrase we can canonically associate with KaiSei and MasaMina still sucks away all of my sanity, especially when thinking about how the lyrics fit into their interactions.

“You do me wrong”, “you’re such a cruel one”: Seiya was a dick to Kaito when they first met, until they had that big fight and later made up. Whenever Seiya was a dick, Kaito would answer at length and they would clash, so this was technically a mutual thing. As discussed above, Masaki sometimes has to do things that hurt Minato for his own good, which is also mutual, as Minato’s response hurts Masaki as well.

“You were my joy, such merry days”: Minato is happiest when Masaki is there. That much has already been stated since volume 1. Before Masaki joins the club, Minato is happy to be back to archery, but also feels sad that he’s no longer able to draw the bow with Masaki, until we get the most “surprise, bitch” scene of the series. Nothing of the sort had ever been implied for Kaito before, but this volume raises the question of whether or not Kaito is okay with Seiya going somewhere far away. Unsurprisingly, he never says he’s okay with it, because no one in this novel says things they don’t mean. What he does say is that it’s Seiya’s own decision. Regardless, everyone can tell how much it affects him. Now maybe that’s a big claim to make when it comes to Masaki and Seiya, but Masaki literally went to Kazemai because he wanted to keep teaching Minato and Seiya has gone to individual competitions because of Kaito.

“I was happy just being by your side”: Again, it has already been stated, quite literally, that Minato just wants Masaki to be by his side. Same for Kaito with Seiya. He wants Seiya to rely on him, but regardless of whether Seiya does it or not, just being by Seiya’s side is enough for him. This is actually an authentically Zen-like way of thinking and highlights how pure of heart Minato and Kaito are. It also affirms that they have a lot of feelings piled up, but they’re keeping it to themselves. Again, this is mutual. Suppose Masaki couldn’t teach at Kazemai anymore, he’d still be happy so long as Minato kept coming to Yata Shrine to learn from him. As for Seiya, he knows his time with Kaito is limited if he’s going to choose the path of medicine, so he’s enjoying what he can get for now.

The way Kaito’s red shoes chase after Seiya’s blue ones also feels a lot like the way that Minato is always chasing Masaki, both in the literal sense and not. And the way that Kaito and Seiya eventually end up walking together might very well apply to Minato and Masaki too. Masaki is a figure of authority in the dojo, but essentially, he and Minato are equals. From the get-go, Masaki allows Minato to speak with him informally and use a nickname to refer to him. Minato makes fun of Masaki, scolds him, yells at him, calls him an idiot, a pervert, a shitty old man, etc… because he can. Not because he doesn’t respect Masaki (“respect” is literally the word that defines their relationship in the official character chart), but because they’re on equal grounds with each other. Masaki knows better than to follow the stupid “I’m superior to you because I happened to be born first” unsaid social rule of Japanese society. He isn’t worthier just for being older and Minato isn’t lesser for being younger. He’s always poking fun at Minato for being a “little kid”, but that’s because he thinks Minato is cute when he acts childish. He’s not actually belittling Minato for being a child.

Aside from that, the things Seiya said about Bernese dogs also feel like a MasaMina hint. He talks about how they have a short lifespan even amongst other dog breeds and that any amount of years they live past the average is a “gift from God”. This is a reference to Minato. In every volume there’s at least one scene where Minato nearly dies. The car accident, the truck accident, the boar incident and Takumi’s little “prank”. Not to mention stuff from the boys’ childhood that is mentioned in-text, like falling from a tree along with their tree house, getting lost in a forest and accidentally eating a ginkgo fruit. Masaki even comments in volume 1 on how Minato gets injured often, and sure enough, he also gets wounded or sick in every volume. He injuries his hand when he and Masaki first meet, then hurts his neck after his fight with Seiya, then the ganglion happens, the fever, the allergy. In these cases, he always gets saved by sheer coincidence. Most of the time, the coincidence is the fact that Masaki is there for him. On volume 1, coincidences and encounters are described as “gifts”. Masaki is Minato’s “gift from God”, who keeps him alive despite his lifespan being at constant risk of running out.

Skip to the tournament and more foreshadowing of future coach!Minato comes up as he gets Hikaru to cast away his insecurities and shoot. I have discussed this before in previous analysis but Minato does it in an essentially Zen way, where he never outright tells Hikaru to “just do it”. He motivates Hikaru by telling him about bullet train names, which seems like a completely unrelated topic, but then he connects it to tsurune and makes Hikaru want to shoot. He’s being exceptionally sensible here, communicating with Hikaru in a way that sounds abstract, but which Minato knows will get through to him. That’s exactly how Masaki gets him to do things and it’s how masters usually do it. Zen is really just like that—you have to get people to find their own answers. This is the author telling us that Minato is in the right track to following Masaki’s steps.

After that, “Greensleeves” comes up again. Kaito’s interpretation of the lyrics is superb. Especially the ending, which he translates as, “This is goodbye, but please come here one more time and give me love”. That’s Minato whenever he thinks his relationship with Masaki is going sour. And although the verses are the same in English in this scene, the Japanese translation has additional verses for some reason.

Aah, I feel my chest about to burst You, who bestow me with love, what a cruel one you are You let me bask in your affection, only to say that you will abandon me Is this a test from the Lord?

Bro, that’s. That’s fucking Minato there. It's especially literal when applying it to volume 1, when Minato thought Masaki was getting tired of him after humoring him for a while with overcoming target panic. Where he was basically a parallel to Fuu, who returned to the forest after Masaki healed its injury. Except Fuu eventually came back, and so did Minato. What I get from this is that the gods are always testing how much he loves Masaki, and so far, he has given them the right answer every time. Minato also always almost leaves, but in his case it’s literal—he always almost dies. These near-death experiences always seem to kind of come outta nowhere, but they do have a proper reason to be other than ship tease. It’s the heavens above announcing that Minato’s time is up, except Masaki is there to intervene.

Masaki interprets “Greensleeves” as “an arm that is green”, with “green” being not exactly the color but rather a way to describe something miraculous. Touch it and you will be graced with a miracle. Meanwhile, Seiya says that the lyrics feel like someone’s words to God—a song of lament and resignation, with a hint of criticism in it. Sound familiar? Yeah. “Yearning, chasing, wishing. Crouching down, struggling, being doubted and scorned. Raging, despairing, casting curses. Repenting, lamenting, accepting death.” Saying “goodbye” (“this is goodbye”), and when one is about to give up, the door opens, and in comes forgiveness (“but please come here one more time and give me love”). “Greensleeves” is presented here as an equivalent to what the universal experience of doing Japanese archery feels like. Ayano Kotoko interprets it as the definition of “one shot and expire”. And by no coincidence, it’s also a description of the roller coaster that is Minato and Masaki’s relationship.

The origins and meaning of “Greensleeves” are unknown, so Ayano is taking the liberty to offer her own view of it. The way she conceptualizes it, it’s an analogy to coming of age. How is that related to Japanese archery? Through the process of honing oneself by way of practicing a Zen art, people grow—they “come of age”. Or, as the novel puts it, they become “adults (saints)”. Masaki has pointed out in the first volume that he’s like a baby to people who are older than him—age doesn’t really define how mature someone is. Reaching enlightenment equals reaching spiritual adulthood. True adulthood.

And how does that apply to Masaki? I don’t know if anyone’s been keeping track of it, but Minato and his feelings for him have come a long way since volume 1. He’s less reckless, less impatient and less greedy. He no longer freaks out or gets sad when Ren tells him shit, he shares Masaki with even more people at the club now and doesn’t pry on Masaki’s business. Slowly, through repeating this process of one shot and expire, of nearly giving up and then seeing the light at the end of the tunnel in their relationship, Minato and his feelings have slowly evolved and ripened.

So again, Minato’s love for archery and his love for Masaki are portrayed as following the same pattern.

Minato interprets “Greensleeves” as being a “naru poem”, a song that celebrates coming of age, as described by his mother. Later, in the last tournament, Ayano reiterates that affirmation in the text. And since the characters discussed about not just the song but also the individual referred to as Greensleeves in it, then there ought to be an equivalent to that as well—a character who is considered “a miraculous hand” by another character. Someone who gave them a gift, a miracle, once they made contact with them. In other words, “Greensleeves” as a song is the definition of how Japanese archery feels to everyone, but each character has a Greensleeves of their own in their lives.

To Kaito, it’s Seiya. To Ryouhei, it’s his sister. To Seiya, it’s Kaito. To Nanao, it’s also Kaito. To Shuu, it’s Minato. To Masaki, it’s his little brother. More on these later, because for now, the focus is on Minato.

Masaki suggests that Greensleeves is someone who cannot be touched even if one gives up everything for it. Minato opposes to this so vehemently it feels unnatural. He’s too outraged, but it’s because this hits a sore spot for him, without him even knowing it. He absolutely doesn’t want that to be the case, because it would mean that Masaki is out of his reach. Masaki all too often seems to slip from his grasp, off to somewhere far away (or as the novel puts it, to the “Other Side”, the “Farthest North”, the “Crimson Lotus Hell”, etc). And every time this happens, he grabs Masaki’s arms and begs him not to leave (again, one shot and expire). When he thought Masaki was a ghost and was about to pass on in volume 1, he grabbed both of his arms. When they’re in Masaki’s car in volume 2 and Masaki is lamenting how useless a teacher he is, Minato has to hold himself back not to grab Masaki’s arm before affirming that Masaki will be his master forever and always. The last scene of that volume is Minato falling asleep on Masaki while holding onto his arm.

Who else could be Minato’s Greensleeves, I fucking wonder.

Next scene is about future plans for the boys’ careers. Just a KaiSei galore. Fast forward to Seiya and Minato walking Kuma. And then it happens. The biggest middle finger that Ayano flips on the anime.

“The moon’s beautiful, huh?”

“Yeah, it is, very much. Minato, do you know about Natsume Souseki’s anecdote?”

“That he had the habit of plucking out nose hairs whenever he had writer’s block and would line them up onto the manuscripts?”

“That’s the one you went for? I meant the anecdote that Japanese people use other kinds of expressions when professing their love instead of saying ‘I love you’.”

“Sorry, I don’t know that one.”

“Minato, you and Kaito just don’t get fazed, do you?”

I’m sorry but this was fucking brutal.

So the author here takes a very common trope in literature, manga and anime. A classic that everyone loves to use for their ships. And then she completely destroys it.

Minato not knowing something that all Japanese people know is 10000% a stretch. Doesn’t matter that he’s a teenager—everybody and their mother knows this anecdote over here. And yeah, that wasn’t him being funny or embarrassed, because Seiya would’ve noticed it. This is meant to show that the gag was on purpose. That a romantic trope is the last thing Ayano would use for SeiMina. Instead, Minato is thinking about Masaki in this scene, as he asks Seiya if he wants to see some dormice. That’s a confirmed volume 1 reference, because Minato had brought the dormouse mascot that Masaki gave him to Seiya’s house. And Seiya is thinking of Kaito, because why would he bring up Kaito’s name out of nowhere? Did he ask Kaito the same question? In what fucking context? What the fuck did Kaito say back? I need answers, Ayano.

Fast forward further to Minato talking about his plans for the future for the first time. He’s at a loss, but he’s interested in what the job of a Shinto priest is like. In any case, it seems he’s going to find an occupation that is related to it, just not necessarily as a priest.

Fast forward even further to the Meigen Ceremony. In this ritual, Shuu is Kyoka Suigetsu, the “moon over the water surface”. Meaning he’s someone that can’t be reached, no matter how much one tries, because the moon’s reflection is but an illusion over the water, and the real moon is somewhere completely out of grasp. That’s basically what Shuu is to Minato. Minato envies Shuu just as much as he admires him. He strives to be a great archer like Shuu, but in the end, Minato can never be exactly like him—he can only be like himself. That’s just how archery works. This is, needless to say, 100% mutual.

Meanwhile, Masaki is Katsura Otoko. That’s the name of a youkai who lives on the moon. He’s said to be so beautiful that once one looks up at him, they become enthralled to the point they can never take their eyes off his figure. I’m sure we’ve read enough of Minato’s monologues about Masaki to understand that this is exactly what Masaki is to him. It checks all the boxes.

Ayano said “motherfucker is thirsty”.

Later on, Minato’s “sixth sense for Masa-related matters only” starts tingling as he feels chills at Masaki asking Nanao for that one picture. Minato can’t exactly tell, but he can feel that Masaki is up to something. More sixth sense bullshit ensues after Masaki’s traditional court music performance along with his mother and Ren. Minato asks Masaki about the Heart Sutra, which he remembered Saionji telling him to study in the past. They debate about it until Ren interrupts and, as Masaki takes his leave, the mandatory exposition of Masaki and Minato’s karmic connection comes to punch us directly in the face. We already knew that both of them have scars because they “belong to the gods”. We already knew that Minato can see people’s auras. Now we’re told they also see light differently, feel people’s energy and can hear things that normal people can’t.

Ren describes the two of them as having a “disposition for the spiritual” and wonders if Minato is like that because someone in his family was also like that. Seiya had previously asked if Minato’s mother had that kind of disposition, except the word was written differently when he said it. The term he used was 巫女気, while Ren used 神子気. Both read as “mikoke” in furigana, but they have different meanings. Seiya was asking if Minato’s mother had the natural disposition of a shrine maiden (巫女). Ren was affirming that Masaki and Minato had a natural disposition for something else entirely. 神子 reads as “miko” but doesn’t mean “shrine maiden”, exactly—the literal meaning is “child of the gods” or “child of a god”. This is a gender neutral version of “shrine maiden”, referring to people who carry out the same duties at shrines but aren’t women. There’s no translation for it, as far as I’m aware.

Many people on the Japanese side of the fandom have theorized about the implications of this interaction. Everyone seems divided between the following options:

Masaki and Minato are gods or demigods

Masaki and Minato are candidates for becoming gods

Masaki and Minato are descendants of gods

Masaki and Minato have been either gods or god candidates in their past lives

Masaki and Minato are the reincarnations of gods

In any case, the two of them are once again officially set outside the scope of normal human beings because they “belong to the gods”, one way or another. Personally, I lean onto the “god descendant” theory because of the mentioning of Minato’s mom. I also lean onto the “god candidate in a past life” because this volume brings out the topic of past lives and characters experiencing memories and feelings that aren’t their own. So I guess my bet is that they were god candidates in past lives because they’re god descendants.

As for what gods they are or have descended/reincarnated from, people mostly agree that it’s probably Amaterasu for Minato and Tsukuyomi for Masaki. I’m on board with that as well. Even if none of these theories turn out to be true, the fact that the two are parallels to Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi in the text is undebatable.

Minato and Masaki are often portrayed as the “shining sun” and the “guiding moon” of the club. Minato gets people motivated, “sets a fire” in them, and is associated with fresh verdure, which evokes the image of sunny summer days. Meanwhile, Masaki is a beacon—he’s there to lead these kids through the dark. This is even included in his character song. Yata Shrine is also associated with nighttime and it’s no coincidence that Fuu is an owl and not some other animal. Plus, Masaki is the first character to be described as having his soul “set on fire” by Minato (moon reflects the light of the sun).

Their birthdays also play into it. Minato’s birthday falls on the winter equinox in, you guessed it, fucking leap years. As volume 3 so eloquently puts it, that’s the time when the sun “dies and is reborn”. Masaki and Minato met for the first time in fall—a time of decay, of death. And then they met again in spring—a time for rebirth. When Minato came in contact with archery for the first time, it was the end of life as he knew it, and he began a new one. When he moved from middle to high school, having lost sight of his form and “given up” on archery, it was the end of that cycle, and yet another cycle began. Masaki was there in both of these moments.

Before meeting Masaki for the second time, Minato had a different attitude towards archery. He was in kind of a comfort zone as the oomae because he knew he could count on Seiya and Shuu, and didn’t like the cheering of the crowd because it was distracting. He was also a little averse to the Buddhist essence of archery and how it seemed to cross the boundaries of what he considered human, which is why Saionji told him to study more. It lowkey felt like he was looking for vestiges of his mother in doing archery, as suggested by the references to “Kaeru no Uta”. But now he is pretty much the opposite of all that. He’s the ochi instead of the oomae, which made him realize all sorts of things and has come to feel gratefulness for everything he has. And he himself attributes it all to meeting Masaki that night, during the last tournament of volume 1. In the same paragraph, it’s confirmed that Masaki would also have given up archery and be in a bad place if he hadn’t met Minato.

One of the first people to notice the change in Minato is Shuu. He says in volume 1 that he wanted to “shoot through a certain someone’s heart”, and of course he meant Minato, only to then realize in volume 2 that Minato’s heart had already “been shot” by someone. As if that wasn’t already enough of a shocker, Minato suddenly only had eyes for this person, meaning he wanted to shoot through their heart too. It’s said in this volume that “Bows and arrows had come into the world as tools to sever the lives of others, but archers used them to sever their own lives. And then, to be born again.” It feels like Minato and Masaki use bows and arrows to server not just their own lives but also each other’s. And when they’re “reborn”, their bond grows even stronger. They continuously do this dance together in every volume.

And for the billionth time, archery = their relationship.

As for Masaki’s birthday, other than it being exactly one month before Japanese archery day, it also falls on the 6th moon day of the lunar calendar. It’s a day for assimilation of cosmic energy, where one will find grace, love, forgiveness, mental and verbal work. It’s also a day associated with “prophecies” ("something devised from the very beginning", as the novel always says). If those are not perfect definitions of Masaki and Minato’s relationship, I don’t know what is.

There are other things that add up to the Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi theory. For example, Minato shutting off to everyone when he is in a slump because of target panic, just like Amaterasu hiding in a cave and taking the sunlight with her. People try to lure her out, just as Seiya and Ryouhei try to convince Minato to join the club. I’ve seen someone on Twitter discuss about Tsukuyomi being a violent god when provoked, relating that to Masaki’s “gorilla moves in the Kujou villa” (OP’s words, lol). This same person also theorized that the Kazemai archery club being dubbed the “mustache club” is also an Amaterasu reference. “Mustache club” in Japanese is “hige-bu”. “Hige” in this case means “mustache”, but can be written as 日下, meaning “under the sun”. The colors of the mustaches are also the colors of Japanese dragonfly types, so they are indeed a direct reference to Minato. There’s also Eisuke and his photosensitivity. He can’t handle the sun just as much as he can’t handle Minato.

“But Amaterasu is a female god” yes, and Minato has been confirmed as non-binary in the afterword of volume 3. The author had already set him up as an androgynous character from day one, but now she just went and said it: Minato is neither male nor female at heart. That’s also very Zen-Buddhist, because it means he’s detached of the very concept of gender—he’s just himself.

And of course, there’s the elephant in the room. The fact that Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi are both a couple and siblings. We’ve had Kaito monologuing in volume 2 that Masaki is the “big brother” of everyone in the club. In this same monologue, he also notes that Minato is closer to Masaki than everyone else. There’s something between them that goes beyond what Masaki has with the other club members. It's technically the same relationship as Masaki has with the others (master and disciple), yet it just goes deeper. Kaito never really says that Masaki likes Minato more, but it's what he seems to think. And he probably isn't wrong. Masaki loves Minato and all not-Minatos equally. I recall seeing a few people go, “so we’ve been BroTP’d” when the translation of this chapter came out, but one thing does not cancel the other. Masaki can be a reliable big brother figure to the club and Minato can still have the biggest crush on him. Shocking surprise, I know. Even more surprising considering the fact that Minato himself was never shown to think of Masaki as a big brother, and neither does Masaki see Minato as a little brother.

Then again, it's siblings and married couple. And now, thanks to volume 3, we can count “marriage proposal” as one of the things to associate with these two.

Chapter 5 was really something. I mean, I know volume 3 is literally “MasaMina the Book”, but this fucking chapter. Masaki just so happening to see a bicycle that looked exactly like Minato’s outside the store he was going into proves that he also has a fate-powered radar. He can find Minato even when he isn’t looking for him or doesn’t even expect Minato to be anywhere nearby.

The talk about the jeans is also funny as hell because the sentence “indigo blue seems like a good fit for you” is just too much. Too fucking much. I don’t even mean the literal implication that Masaki’s designated color suits Minato best. I mean the fact that you can read “indigo blue” as a euphemism for “Masaki”. It’s the whole “don’t dye yourself in any color other than mine” all over again. Fuck off, Ayano.

This whole scene is the cutest sequence ever. The two of them looking around the store together, and then going solo only to give each other presents after they were done just... rotted all my teeth off my head. Both of them asking for the presents to be put in wrapping, and it turning out to be the exact same wrapping, was a cherry on top. The ribbons got me a little off-guard because anyone would be embarrassed to do that shit. You don’t have to go this extra mile of present wrapping, but it's natural for them. And it’s absurdly adorable that they’re speechless for a moment at the coincidence.

Did they. Did they also realize how extra they were being? Did they?

Color matching is again implied as Masaki gives Minato a green shirt because it’ll “look good with the pants”. We get it, Ayano. Enough is enough, Ayano. And speaking of colors, way back in ancient Japan, blue and green were conceptualized not as different colors, but as different shades of the same color. The word “blue” was used for both for a long time. And by that I mean really fucking long. "Green" was only introduced in the Heian period, but it wasn't widespread until after freaking WWII. That's extremely recent. The Ainu go a step further and still conceptualize not only blue and green but also white as the same color. White is also one of Masaki’s colors, given that he’s a Shinto priest. Very predictably he wears white during important ceremonies at Yata Shrine.

Their colors are one and the same. These two idiots are one and the same. Yeah, we know, Ayano. We fucking know.

As they arrive to Masaki’s apartment, it’s revealed that Minato had already been there before. It’s also implied that he has slept over at least once, and that when he spends the night, they sleep together in Masaki’s bedroom. I was wondering why there was a brief moment earlier in the volume where Ren asks to stay at Masaki’s apartment for a while, only to be turned down. There seemed to be no reason for it, but apparently it’s because Minato stays there every now and then. Good fucking god.

Masaki’s habit of being messy in contrast with Actual Housewife Narumiya Minato is a voice whispering in the background that Masaki needs someone like that living with him. The part where their legs bump under the kotatsu and their reaction to it is to look at each other and laugh fucking ended me.

When Minato tells Masaki that Ren said things about his vision, Masaki tries to dodge it by saying, “yeah, I have good vision because I grew up in a place surrounded by greenery”, and surprisingly, Minato can see through it. He knows Masaki doesn’t want to talk about whatever Ren told him, and that his reaction means everything Ren said was true. And he backs off. He really wants to know but he gives Masaki space. I feel like this wouldn’t have happened in the previous volumes. Again, Minato is becoming more mature and less impatient as the story progresses.

Then comes the revelation of Masaki’s real name. I have talked about this scene at length in a previous post, which I’ll copy-paste here:

So Masaki’s first name was originally “Tamamori Masaki”. “Masaki” was written as 正樹 in the past and later became 雅貴, because he changed his first name as well when changing his last name. Same pronunciation, different writing. Just a random observation while we’re at it, but “Tamamori” is a weird surname. In a good sense. Like, it means “soul protector” in a very not obvious way. “Tama” means “sphere”, which has the connotation of “spirit”/“soul”. “Mori” means “protection”/“protector” (think of protection charms, “omamori”, for example). It’s not a common name by any standards (in fact, I didn’t even know this name existed before), and damn, does it define Masaki well. As a Shinto priest, he is literally a protector of spirits and gods. As a coach, he’s the protector of his disciples. And in general, he’s Minato’s protector.

We’ve known since volume 1 that Masaki had changed his surname to “Takigawa” because his mother had divorced his biological father and remarried. We also knew that he didn’t have his grandfather’s surname (Yasaka) before that, because that’s his mother’s father. He originally had his father’s surname, and until now, we didn’t know what that was. And we also didn’t know that Masaki had changed his first name along with his last name. There shouldn’t be any need for that. In fact, there shouldn’t be any need for him to change his surname either. Just because his mother remarried doesn’t mean he’s obligated to have his stepdad’s surname. Something else was the issue.

The issue being that Masaki’s biological dad is on Trash Dad Team.

Volume 3 is the one where we get the most of Masaki’s past until this point, so be ready for one hell of a ride now. For starters, his grandpa’s family is special. Not just because they run a shrine, but also because the people of their bloodline have a strong sixth sense. They can see and feel certain things that normal people can’t. I’m sure everyone could already tell that from volume 1, though. It’s always been hinted that Masaki has some sort of connection with the supernatural and the mystic aside from the fact that he’s a priest. It’s been even more strongly hinted that the same goes for Minato, and in this volume, we get a confirmation of it.

So there you have it. Masaki is a descendant of important people who have a long-standing, intimate relationship with the “other side”. One of his ancestors has their remains enshrined within a forest in another town and is worshiped by the locals. And here’s where things get wild: his father stole one of this ancestor’s bones from the shrine and ran the fuck away with it. His goal was probably to sell it to the black market or something. That kinda shit gets you an insane amount of money in Japan. However, before stealing the bone, he had tried to have the remains exhumed and handed over to him from the local people, claiming that he was one of the descendants of whoever was enshrined in that forest. From what the text implies, the actual descendant wasn’t him, but rather someone who was related to him.

Who that someone was? Masaki’s brother.

No, not Ren. Masaki’s biological brother.

Yes, Masaki has a sibling. Or had, before their father kidnapped him.

Masaki’s brother is three years younger than him and his name is never revealed. All we know is that they were close and Masaki loved him very much. When his father left, he took his youngest son along without anyone’s consent and ran away. Masaki and his mother have not seen him since.

“But wait, Japan is a country where the law actually works. How is it that the police hasn’t caught this guy? Is this a stretch from the author? Perhaps just bad writing?” you might be asking yourselves. Sadly, no. The author is actually being realistic here (and likely providing an educated critique to how flawed Japan’s law is when it comes to caring for minors in general). I know that what I’m about to say is going to sound crazy, but parental kidnapping isn’t a crime in Japan.

I wish I was making this up.

If two parents get divorced and one of them takes their child along when leaving, even if by force and without the consent or knowledge of the other parent, this isn’t considered kidnapping at all. Why? Basically, children are viewed as property of their families in Japan. If one of the parents wants to take their kid to their new home and raise them there, it’s completely legal. Their child, their choice. The child doesn’t have any right to object. The only one who has that right is the other parent, but they can only exercise it if they manage to catch the kidnapper in the act. Otherwise, if the other parent tries to get the child back after the child has been kidnapped, they need to have the permission of the kidnapper, because by then the child would be in a new residence that doesn’t belong to both parents, only to one, and accessing it without the consent of the residence’s owner would be invasion of property. And that is a crime that could get the other parent in jail, even if they’re literally just trying to save their child.

All of this felt completely insane to write and I presume it feels even more insane to read.

As to why Masaki’s dad took his brother away, it’s because of their special bloodline. Apparently, Masaki’s brother was just like him. After his father left with his brother, Masaki and his family figured that he’d come back to take Masaki too, and that’s why he had to change his name. That way, Masaki now belongs to his stepdad’s family, meaning that if his father tried to take him, then it would be legally considered kidnapping. It’s not very clear why Masaki also changed the writing of his first name, but it’s suggested that he did so because his father was the one who picked it for him.

But oh, it doesn’t get better. A while after the kidnapping, Masaki’s dad sent his little brother’s death certificate to them. On Masaki’s birthday. Ever since then, Masaki’s birthday has been his brother’s death anniversary.

Death and rebirth, and then death. The usual.

Masaki doesn’t think his brother really died. His father probably pulled some strings to forge the death and then got his brother a new identity. That way, his ex-wife’s family would give up on trying to get him back, and even if they decided to do otherwise, the chances of them succeeding would be next to none. Like, suppose they happen to get ahold of him by some dumb luck, they’d still never be able to prove that it’s him (with him being legally considered dead and probably having a whole different name now).

Masaki is understandably the most bitter creature on earth over this whole thing. He despises his father with a passion and hates his birth name. During his conversation with Minato about this, he says that his birth name is an “imina” to him.

We’re now coming full cycle with one of the earlier foreshadowings, so I need to contextualize imina a little more. Before the Meiji Restoration, Japanese people had a custom of using several different names for themselves, as well as taking on many different kinds of epithets, pen names and titles. People hardly used their birth names even to sign official documents or works made by themselves. This was so that it would be the hardest possible for their real names to ever be disclosed. Only their families would know their real names until they passed away. That’s when their names would finally be engraved in their tombstones, family altars and whatnot.

Other than family, the only person who would know another person’s real name was the one they were making romantic advances on. It was okay to pull this move because, during those times, people flirted with the ultimate purpose of getting married, meaning their sweetheart would become part of their family eventually. But there was always a chance of them being rejected, so it was a risky feat. It meant they were betting everything on getting a "yes" as the answer. Wars and battles over territory, political power and assets were an everyday life thing, and so were betrayals, spying, ordered assassinations and coup d’etats. People had to protect their identities at all costs back then. Revealing your real name to an outsider was an act of absolute trust, and this is mentioned in the novel—it was like entrusting the other person with your life. Of course, this isn’t the case anymore, but Masaki revealing to Minato his birth name, as well as telling him this extremely personal and heavy story, is act of absolute trust, equal to putting his life in Minato's hands. Remember chapter 1: imina = "the name of a life".

But Masaki knows that he can share this with Minato. Minato won’t be put-off by it, won’t be judgmental towards it, and most importantly, won’t ever tell a soul about it. It’s actually real funny to me that Minato listens to this absurd story without batting an eye. He just accepts all of it, no questions asked. And the only thing he isn’t okay with is Masaki talking about his own name as if it’s disgusting and a burden.

Now I have to leave a translation of this part here because it’s fucking golden. You've gotten through this wall of text. You deserve it.

“‘Tamamori Masaki’. That’s my former name.”

“Your birth name?”

“I changed my first name along with my surname. My old name is an imina to me. Don’t really wanna be reminded of it.”

Masa-san was giving a bitter smile – one that was not like him. First there was Ren the other day and now this; these brothers just had too many secrets. Minato did not mind that they would not tell him about the circumstances. However, hating your own name was simply too sad.

“That doesn’t feel right. Imina were used up until the Meiji Era and they were something precious that only your lord and family members could know. Apparently, you’d only tell it to other people when courting them.”

“Fuh, that’s dangerous. Seiya would beat me to a pulp if he found out. Well then, mind giving me your reply?”

“To what?”

“To my marriage proposal.”

“Heh? I-I don’t know anything about that kinda stuff.”

“‘That kinda stuff’, huh.”

“I’ve never thought about that kinda stuff.”

“You just said ‘that kinda stuff’ twice.”

“You’re the worst master ever.”

“Minato, you’re like a jack-in-the-box. Whatever’s inside is always beyond my imagination.” Masa-san giggled.

——Looks like he was teasing me. Geez, I’m seriously no match for this man.

Minato stood up. “About time I head home.”

“Want me to give you a ride?”

“I’m good.”

When he pushed the door open, a gray sky spread out before his eyes.

“Uh, it’s raining. I didn’t bring my raincoat today.”

“Well-timed shower, huh? Wanna drink some coffee?”

“Hm.”

Minato closed the door.

Filed under: jokes that mean exactly what they mean.

I love that in Tsurune, the punchline in these moments doesn’t come from double entendre. The joke is precisely what it sounds like. When Masaki says “proposal”, the word he uses is specifically meant for marriage. But no, he’s not really asking for Minato’s hand. He just worded it like that because he knew it’d get a reaction out of Minato, and that’s where the humor lies.

I have seen some people (even some influential artists) in the fandom honestly believing that Masaki really was proposing to Minato in this scene, and if any of y’all ever happen to come across someone posting about that, rest assured. He wasn’t. It’s the same as when he joked about teaching Minato “the basics of a relationship”. He wasn’t being serious at all, but when he said “the basics”, it meant exactly what it sounds like.

I also think it’s really funny that Minato makes a mental note on the fact that he was being teased, which means he at first thought Masaki was being serious. For a hot minute, Minato honestly believed that Masaki was proposing marriage to him, in canon. His realization that it was a joke is literally written there. And the best part is, he didn’t say no. He took Masaki seriously for a moment and didn’t reject him. This had my head spinning when I read it for the first time. I was straight-up fucking disoriented for a while. I don't know how many people truly understand how outrageously big this is. Minato basically just said... that it was too early for him, lmfao. It feels like he was asking for time to reply. Like, "Gimme a few years so that I can say yes."

But don't be fooled, y'all. Masaki wasn't proposing, yet he was asking Minato a question that he wanted an answer to. Except this question wasn’t “will you marry me”. It was something else, hidden between the lines, which the novel comes back to in the last tournament. More on that later.

And just to finish up the analysis of this scene, gotta love the weather suddenly turning on Minato just so that he’ll get to spend more time with Masaki. He’s about to leave out of sheer embarrassment but the gods say, “Oh, no, you don’t”. And when he goes back in, it just feels like he completely forgot about how flustered he was a second ago. Speaking of flustered, this doesn’t translate into English, but the way Minato thinks about “being no match” for Masaki is distinctively feminine. It truly feels like a girlfriend or wife thinking about her man. The text pretty much slapped me in the face ‘cause it’s by far the girliest thing I’ve read in the entire novel.

Cut to Takumi’s first attempt to sabotage Minato and Masaki coming back after a week of looking for his brother. Mandatory Missing Masa-san Hours and wanting to go to him for advice are over, and Minato is relieved to see Masaki’s smile for the first time in a while, because this is also a mandatory “Masaki’s smile has a healing effect on Minato” moment.

New yugake in hand, Minato goes to Yata Shrine to get used to it, because duh. When Masaki misses the target more than once during their little practice, he gets dodgy again, except this time it’s hard to notice. He says it’s because he hasn’t drawn the bow for a whole week, and while this also plays into it, the main reason is his current state of mind. Which is also the reason why he doesn’t want Minato to touch him as he is now, as well as the reason why he was asking his grandfather from beyond the grave if he was really qualified to do purification rituals. Because right now, he's as impure as can be.

Masaki has murderous intent towards his father for ruining the lives of his family, especially his brother’s. When he swears that he’ll find his father and "choke the life out of him", he means it in the literal sense. He up and declares to the gods that he’ll kill his father with his own hands. And it's not valid for just this life, but no matter how many times they’re reborn, he’ll end his father if he ever finds him.

Don't know about you guys, but this reminds me a lot of S1 Masaki. More specifically, this feels like the author's take on S1 Masaki. Him being all bitter and gloomy, missing the target and bearing heavy negative feelings toward someone from his family is a first in the novel, and it's all stuff that S1 brought about. But the way S1 did it was just so wrong on so many levels and butchered Masaki's character so blatantly that I can understand if Ayano felt tempted to do her own fix-it of that. Feels like it's her saying, "If Masaki wanted revenge for being done dirty by a family member, this is how it'd go." It takes parental abuse and child kidnapping for Masaki to actually wish for something this serious. That's how far it'd have to go for it to taint his thoughts even when he's in the dojo, to the point he loses sight of himself for a moment and misses the target.

But anyway, back to the scene at hand. Masaki's desire to have his brother back feels more like a curse than a prayer to him at this point, but there’s someone who can break it. That’s why he doesn’t want this someone to look at him with “those eyes”. It's not just Masaki who has a healing effect on Minato—Minato, too, has a healing effect on Masaki. Again, everything is mutual and equal in this relationship. But Masaki can't afford to be healed just yet. He probably feels that if his hatred for his father dies out, it’s the same as giving up on finding his brother, and turning a blind eye to everything his father has done. However, Minato can hear what Masaki isn’t saying: “I wasn’t born for the sake of hating someone.” Masaki has made up his mind, but he actually wants out. He doesn’t hate his father because he wants to, but because he can’t help it. What he truly wishes for is that none of this was happening, and that his brother was there with him.

Minato knows that full well, so he nulls the fucking contract.

“Correction; I’m taking that back. What you said earlier isn’t valid. Masa-san is nothing but a perverted, shitty old man! That’s all!”

“Mi-Minato?”

“It’d be a problem if a Shinto priest says something like that and it happens to come true, yeah? I’ll go learn pro-wrestling. I’ll pin your arms behind your back and stop you.”

Masa-san blinked a few times, then burst out with a “pfft”. “That’s too much, Minato.”

“What’s too much?”

“Well, just everything. Just as I thought, my disciple is cute.”

“Hah? Don’t call me cute. And saying stuff like, ‘My birthday doesn’t matter’ even though everyone celebrates it with you... how can you spout something so selfish? There’s this thing my mom used to say. That a birthday is the day when people express gratitude to you for being born.”

“All right. My apologies. I will keep that in mind. I take back what I said a moment ago.”

“You’re talking like a middle schooler, Masa-san.”

“That’s rich coming from a little kid.”

“Don’t call me a little kid! I’m 16 and a second-year in high school!”

Masa-san laughed with a hand over his stomach.

——Isn’t that rude? I’m being serious here.

The bright red thing that had been surrounding Masa-san disappeared.

“Crimson lotus” was originally a Buddhist term, and the seventh of the Eight Hells, the “Hadoma Hell”, was also known as the “Crimson Lotus Hell”. It was said that those who fell into this hell would have their skin and flesh torn up from the excessive cold, thus their body would be dyed in the colors of fresh blood and suffer extreme pain. It was said that this made them look like a crimson lotus flower.

——I’m begging you, please don’t go away to that farthest north. Don’t disappear from my sight. Ever again.

So to break this one down, when Minato says “I take that back” and “what you said earlier isn’t valid”, he’s referring to Masaki’s declaration. He’s talking to the gods and telling them, “don’t listen to him, he doesn’t know better”. And then Masaki himself takes it back. The contract isn’t valid anymore, and even if Masaki tries to go through with it, Minato won’t let him.

It’s said earlier in the novel that breaking a contract with the gods isn’t easy. Once you put it into words, your fate is no longer in your hands. But Minato did it. Because if it’s Masaki, he can. Whatever concerns Masaki also concerns him. In that same scene, Masaki was thinking about how “First meetings are like the moon in an overcast night. Like a blink of peridot”, and then the Kazemai kids come to mind. This is a parallel to the ending of volume 1, where Minato tells Masaki about his grandfather's last words about him, and where first meetings are described as a “gift named coincidence, as if someone else had devised it”. This moment was a “gift from the gods” that Masaki received from the boys, all thanks to him meeting Minato.

Masaki bestows Minato with gifts, but he gets gifts in return.

This brings us back to “Greensleeves”. One of the many interpretations from the boys is that it’s a declaration of “I’ll hold your arms and stop you no matter how many times it takes, no matter how many times we’re reborn”. When Minato talks about pinning Masaki’s arms behind his back to stop him, that’s a direct reference to it. He’d already asserted in volume 1 that he’ll go after Masaki if Masaki dies, and now he’s asserting that he’ll go after Masaki into any number of next lives. This implies they’ve been through multiple reincarnation cycles together. Of course it’s not just You and Eddie who have known each other from past lives. No way that the author would introduce the concept of reincarnation only to limit it to secondary characters. None of this started now—it was, again, “devised from the very beginning”.

So if you put Minato's statemens together, what you get is: “If you die, I’ll go after you, and I’ll find you and hold onto you again.”

Minato is literally saying he’ll be with Masaki forever, beyond the borders of time. His grandmother asked Masaki to take care of him forever, Ren asked Minato to take care of Masaki, and now Minato is saying that Masaki doesn’t even have a choice—he will take care of Masaki whether Masaki wants it or not. All in all, I think Masaki isn’t completely free yet, but this is the first step to getting rid of his “curse”. I don’t know how many people realize that this means the fucking world to him. Minato is helping him pull himself out of his own personal hell, and I firmly believe that, in this moment, he thought the same thing that Minato did during his “proposal”. That he's no match for him.

Fuck me sideways.

Next thing we know, the boys are at the prefecturals. Masaki once again sweeps Minato’s thoughts during Kazemai’s turn.

“The pure of heart were fragrant. He knew with every inch of his body that this was no metaphor. Whenever he brought his face close to the owner of the fragrance, he was ecstatic. He could hear a whisper saying, ‘I want to let it intoxicate me for good; I wouldn’t mind even sinking to the bottom of a lake if it would mean that I can keep him to myself’, but those were the words of a demon. He must not fall for the sweet talk of the one who bore the same face as himself.”

Ex-fucking-scuse me, but why the fuck does this sound like a scientifically accurate description of what being in love is like from a biology standpoint? Feeling ecstatic whenever he comes closer to Masaki and is able to smell his scent? Is that fucking pheromones or what? Hello???

Amazing how literally all of Minato’s internal struggle in this volume consist of him trying not to give in to his desire of monopolizing Masaki. And my God, boy would go some crazy lengths for that desire. I've said this in an ask reply before, but I need to reiterate that it's just delightful how Minato's whole deal isn't whether or not he wants to cross the line with Masaki. It's that he does want to cross the line and he fully acknowledges it. He even seems to believe that he'll get what he wants if he pushes hard enough. But he won't cross the line because he "mustn’t fall victim to temptation". I mean, regardless of the nature of it (be it romantic or platonic or whatever), that is temptation, undebatably. It’s quite literally being presented as such by the narrative.

Masaki is very much tailored to Minato’s tastes, interests and necessities, we been knew, but this also means he’s Minato’s probation. He says earlier in this volume that being human comes with basic necessities, like hunger, sleep and libido, and that there’s no need to try to eliminate them from our lives. What we need to do is not to exaggerate—in other words, to fight back greed. Minato has to resist the urge to take Masaki for himself, 'cause that’s the only thing he’s greedy about.

Yeah, that checks it out. Minato is a carnivore, all right.

What also checks out is that MasaMina covers up depictions of all five senses. There are very specific things between them that correspond to the five senses, plus the two being gifted with sixth sense.

Hearing: tsurune, Masaki's laugh, and now meigen

Taste: coffee

Smell: the above-mentioned scene

Sight: always looking at each other and wanting each other's attention, plus the dozens of references to each other's eyes

Touch: two normally-not-tacticle little bitches have a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad time whenever they're unable to touch each other for an extended period, what the fuck is this novel

Yes, Ayano went Six Base Senses on us. MasaMina is Buddhism too, guys. Just gotta love that it’s not even a matter of whether Minato wants to cross the line or not—he does, and his whole arc in this volume is about him trying his best not to do that.

Bonus: one more thing from this scene that doesn't translate well is the sentence “bows and humans—a world for just the two of them”. This is very ambiguous in English. It might sound like “two of them” refers to a person and their bow, but in Japanese, the word used means specifically “two people”. Minato is thinking about Masaki here. No one else would make any contextual sense.

“Masa-san, there’s something I wanna tell you. I want you to listen without laughing.” Goddamn. That is one fucking way to start the second section of the last chapter.

So Minato has had a strange experience years ago but could never tell anyone about it, because Seiya would think he’s gone crazy and Ryouhei would dismiss it as a dream. Coincidentally, Masaki also has had a supernatural experience that he’s never told anyone before. For the millionth time, they entrust each other with a secret.

Minato has had an episode of sleep paralysis as a child. It was on Setsubun, the day on which Japanese people traditionally throw beans outside their houses to ward off evil spirits. He was feeling particularly out of it on that day and had no memory of the previous one—might very well be an indication that the veil was thin in that occasion and Minato was feeling the effects of it. During the sleep paralysis, he heard six sci-fi movie-like sounds shooting past him.

Masaki in turn tells him about the time when he fell into deep depression because of the whole thing with his brother and grandfather. He was sent by his mother to a temple to recuperate, but just kept having suicidal thoughts every single day, until he heard a voice from above the left side of his head saying, “all right”. Someone on Japanese Twitter pointed out that this the position of the head of the family in a family altar. That was Akihiro cheering him on. Masaki wanted to disappear, to never wake up again after going to sleep, but when he thought of his family, he couldn’t afford to take his own life. So he didn’t. He just continued doing his best, and Akihiro was seeing it all from the other side. This was also acknowledgement—the acknowledgement from his master that he longed so much for. That’s when he began to get better.

Not sure if Minato understands any of this. But their reaction is once again to look at each other and smile.

“Gives you kind of a weird sense of empathy, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, that’s true. You can tell other people about this day when the time is right—when your words are filled with your truth.”

This moment is described as a “secret between master and disciple”, but the word “secret” in this case isn’t the commonplace 秘密. Nope, it’s 秘め事, which is, more often than not, used as an euphemism for “secret love maneuvers”. Deliberate, deliberate.

Please kindly go fuck yourself, Queen.

The six sounds Minato heard on that day come back to him during the last match of the final tournament. They are distinguishable from one another and take the form of “arrows of light”, piercing through his body from his head into the ground. It’s implied that these sounds are “meigen”. This might very well be the boys’ shots, plus Masaki’s, taking on a spiritual form and traveling through time and space to reach Minato, after he has found his “truth”. Maybe from a past life, where they did the Meigen Ceremony together, or maybe from something else that they will do in the future.

The shots are apparently compared to dragons in flight by the narrative, and it’s even suggested that they might have colors. The reason why they come separately in bouts of three might be a reference to the ultimate goal of Japanese archery (truth, goodness and beauty), as well as the three sounds that define a good shot (sae, tsurune and matooto). Can’t forget the references to Buddhism. Six is probably the most recurrent number in it, and Masaki even talks to Minato about the six realms, six senses and six cycles of reincarnation earlier.

People are shouting, “all right, all right” as the boys hit the targets, one “all right” for each of them. But Minato can hear a sixth “all right” immediately before the arrows of light hit him. Perhaps that was his mother.

Minato thinks to himself, “The days I’ve spent with you. The days I’ll spend with you from now on. Who am I supposed to thank for this happiness?” The “you” is in singular form, meaning he’s thinking about Masaki.

Kazemai is once again associated with the sun as the boys are described as “those who gather under the sun” and “heading towards a bright place”. They are depicted as dying and being reborn, becoming babies and growing up all over again, and at the end of that process, they will become true adults (saints) once they’re able to embrace even those whom they despise. Minato is very much on the way for that, as he despises neither Takumi, who literally almost kills him later, nor Eisuke for being a general dickhead or the twins for picking on him. He also was never depicted as hating the driver who killed his mother or the one who almost killed Masaki—this wasn’t ever even mentioned, and instead, he blamed himself for being the one who got the long end of the stick in both situations. And by the looks of it, he doesn’t hate Masaki’s dad for everything he’s done to Masaki and his family, either. He treats everyone equally.

“The sun was in itself a form of unconditional love. It shone down on everyone equally—both the good and the bad. The Japanese called that star Amaterasu Oomikami.”

Minato recalls his most recent encounter with Saionji, where he has given his answer to the Heart Sutra. Saionji basically tells him that he’s in the right track. This, added to his monologue above, makes me think that maybe. Just fucking maybe. Minato is always able to forgive everyone and everything because thanks to all of it he’s been able to meet and spend time with Masaki. So he’s grateful for both the good and bad things in his life.

The boys then go back, in their own heads, to the day they heard “Greensleeves” at the park. Seiya is thinking about what he was going to say to Kaito under that tree, meaning that Kaito is Greensleeves to him. Ryouhei probably has his sister in mind, as he had a two-page monologue about her in an earlier chapter. Nanao is also thinking about Kaito and how he gave him strength to not give up his position as regular. Kaito is most likely reminiscing to the monologue he had when chasing after Seiya. And Minato is speaking to his mother about the meaning of the song to him.

Minato’s interpretation of “Greensleeves” is that it’s a song where a master asks his disciple for the answer to a problem, and then smiles when the disciple answers. The problem: “Mind giving a reply to my marriage proposal?” The answer: “I’ll go learn pro-wrestling. I’ll pin your arms behind your back and stop you.”

Yep, that’s right. The “pro-wrestling” thing is one more of the many word plays of this novel. In Japanese, the words “pro-wrestling” and “proposal” sound very similar. Minato could’ve just said he’ll hold Masaki’s arms and stop him. He didn’t have to mention pro-wrestling. But he did so because Ayano wanted us to associate “puroresu” with “puropozu”. She wanted us to remember the marriage proposal scene when reading this part, because that was Minato’s answer to it.

In Japanese culture, if it wasn’t already obvious enough, you say things without really saying them. In Zen martial arts, this also applies, because everyone has to find their own answer to the problems and doubts they encounter along the way. And in romantic relationships, too (throwback to the Souseki anecdote).

Masaki reveals to Minato the darkest truth about himself and shows Minato his ugliest side, then basically asks him, “So what are you gonna do with that, now that you know?” (proposal) and Minato’s answer is “I’ll take care of you” (pro-wrestling). Roundabout as can be, this is intentional. This bullshit is very well concealed in all these word plays and cryptic expressions because it’s supposed to hit you like a truck when you realize what they truly mean. Just like it hits Masaki like a truck back then. He most likely understood what Minato was really saying. Fundamentally, Minato was telling Masaki that he loves him without directly saying “I love you”.

The moon is fucking beautiful, huh.

And then Masaki laughs. The master asks, the disciple answers and the master smiles in response. “Greensleeves” has now come full cycle. This is also an ultimate Zen moment because Minato was essentially accepting everything that Masaki is, even the worst of him. This is quite literally a promise—a contract that Minato has made with him.

You know what else is also a contract?

It’s not a marriage proposal... but it is, actually. Those are not marriage vows... but they are, actually. Ayano is fucking with us.

She’s fucking even more in the following paragraph:

“Attraction towards the opposite sex and affection between parents and children are biological desires based on the prosperity of offspring, and it is not so difficult to love someone who has been kind to you. True friendship is beautiful and hard to earn. Those who walk the same path, master and disciple, are also friends. The only difference is that one is going ahead and the other behind, but the two of them continue on a never-ending journey together.”

So, before anyone goes “we’ve been BroTP’d” again, Ayano is affirming here that friendship is also an aspect of Masaki and Minato’s relationship, specifically, and that this is purer and more beautiful than love between couples or family. Now, what exactly is the extent of “friendship” here? Welp, traditionally, in Japan, “friendship” includes a lot of things. If we look back into Edo or Heian, both periods of Japanese history that are constantly referenced in Tsurune, “friendship” between men often included courting for a certain period. Especially between master and disciple. This was actually the common sense back then.

Yes, I’m talking about Shudo. I’m also losing my fucking mind, so bear with me here.

Ayano is definitely aware of the whole wakashu thing. This woman knows her history, okay? The “monk” jokes about Masaki aren’t for nothing. Monks used to work as Shinto priests as well back in the day and vice-versa, for Shinto and Buddhism were intimately connected for a long time. There’s also the ceremony that the boys participate for the Star Festival in volume 2, which, according to Masaki, was performed by chigo in the past. Chigo aren’t a thing anymore, of course, but this seemingly unnecessary comment indicates that, if this were a few centuries ago, Minato would’ve been a chigo and he and Masaki would obligatorily be in a relationship.

Now, remember the past lives theory? If Masaki and Minato have been master and disciple in their past lives, then they have been in relationships with each other in all of the lives where both of them were born as men. But that also means they had to marry a woman later on, because those were the times. In that paragraph, Ayano is quite literally saying that, regardless of who they marry, whatever they felt/will feel for their partners doesn’t hold a candle to what they feel for each other. "All women are beautiful, but only my disciple is cute."

But what would have happened if one of them was born as the opposite sex, you may ask. Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi all over again, probably. Minato is non-binary on the inside, so he would probably see and treat Masaki the exact same way and there would still be friendship between them.

Besides, once again, this is deliberate wording. “The two will go on a never-ending journey together”, “a world for just the two of them”, etc. Why do these sentences refer only to Minato and Masaki? Masaki isn’t Minato’s only master and Minato isn’t Masaki’s only student, so why does the narrative act like only the two of them matter here?

Japanese Twitter has speculated about this too. The conclusion is that maybe this is Ayano enforcing the concept of soulmates, and perhaps even of twin rays and twin flames. It’s often brought up how similar Masaki and Minato are, and twin flames/rays is based on the idea that each soul has its own frequency, which complies with the theory that “the world is made up of tsurune”. Not to mention the whole fate element and the implications that they’ve known each other from past lives. It honestly sometimes feels like the author is trying to say that Minato and Masaki are just one soul dwelling in different bodies or two separate souls that were once one. And they’re not the only characters who are implied to have a “half”—it’s very obvious that there’s a bunch of pairs in this story, and it’s not for nothing. Most likely, what Ayano means here is that Minato and Masaki will go in a never-ending journey not just regarding archery, but regarding life in general, including future next lives.

Ayano is being pretty realistic here too, because there are lots of little gay ships in Tsurune, but they will never be canon. MasaMina and KaiSei might have a veeery slim chance, but probably won’t either. Yet she’s laying the foundation that no matter who they end up with, their friendship is many steps above it. Have to admire her completely crushing the dreams of fans who ship themselves with the characters, lol. “He will never love you as much as he loves this other guy”, basically.

So in short, Masaki and Minato are master and student, which means they’re also friends. They’re sorta like siblings by default as well, and act like a married couple. All of this fits Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi just right. It also fits what Ayano says in the afterword about liking things that “are in-between” and “waver”—things that “can’t be put into a mold or categorized”. You really can’t put this relationship into a mold because it’s in all molds at the same time. It’s Everything and nothing at once. An optimal relationship from a Zen standpoint. A truthful, good and beautiful relationship.

The ultimate ideal.

Speaking of ideal, Masaki and Minato’s relationship is, in itself, the ultimate Zen ideal. I’m not just talking about how their dynamics literally follow the same flow as of Japanese archery, but also their relationship is the pinacle of what Zen standards consider to be pure. Minato never asked to be Masaki’s disciple and Masaki never offered to teach him. It just happened naturally, just like how they got into archery. Before they realized, they were doing it. Minato simply asked how Masaki was able to shoot so beautifully and told him about his target panic. Masaki, in turn, revealed that he also suffered from target panic in the past. And that was that. The next time Minato came to the dojo, Masaki started teaching him. Unprompted, unsolicited—directly, at least.

Minato needed to be taught and Masaki needed to teach.

So, back to this volume. The tournament ends and so nearly does Minato’s life. Another gift from God is bestowed upon him as Masaki saves his ass from imminent death for the nth time. Dramatic as fuck, like always. Yet he still says “excuse me” before shooting the allergenic into Minato’s tight, what a gentleman. Seiya’s reaction was priceless, I gotta say.

Masaki going after Takumi was kind of a shocker when I first read volume 3, but after reading it again in order to make this post, it was actually to be expected (notice that I'm saying "expected", not "okay", because that shit wasn't okay at fucking all). He has a lot of pent-up anger, but even if he didn’t, he’d never forgive anyone who puts his students in danger, let alone in a near-death situation like that. 'Cause Minato would have died if Masaki didn’t have that syringe with him. Minato, on the other hand, hasn’t yet learned pro-wrestling, but as promised, he comes to stop Masaki and shows that he, too, can be extra as fuck.

The afterword is packed with MasaMina this time around. Not just the confirmation of non-binary Minato and the uncategorizable things part, but also Masaki being described as someone who is human yet not. She really just up and said it, huh. Masaki is in-between the realm of people and the realm of gods, and more than once did he almost cross over to the gods’ side, but Minato was there to hold onto his arms and stop him. As Ayano herself puts it, she wrote this story because there are people whom she wanted to stop and keep by her side, and this shows in the way she writes about the main relationships of the story, especially MasaMina.

There’s also the way she describes what Tsurune is about—“this is a story of master and disciple and of bow friends”. The fact that she felt the need to clarify this and place “master and disciple” first speaks volumes about how this woman views her own story. This feels like another tiny act of rebellion against the anime, which makes it all about bow friends and barely shows any of the master and disciple aspect. Heck, it barely shows Masaki at all, period.

And like, this isn't even a matter of being salty about a fandom favorite getting sidelined, although that alone is already valid enough of a complaint in my opinion. It's also about the essence of keiko and how it simply doesn't work without the active participation of a master. It makes the whole thing seem to be about knowledge and practice (sport), when actually contemplation and looking inside oneself plays a much bigger role (art). Not to mention that it gives people the wrong idea about what the story and its characters are supposed to be. I've had people straight-up try to argue with me that Tsurune is about the main five boys and Masaki is secondary. I think we can finally put to that discussion to sleep, now that the author herself has spoken.

Tsurune-centric accounts on Japanese Twitter usually have the words "original work" in their bios. There's a reason for that, and it's the same reason why AO3 has separate tags for the Tsurune novel and the Tsurune anime. Even if we ever get to see volume 3 animated, it will only be as loose of an adaptation as can be, and we'll continue to get more and more anime-original content. I hope next time, if we ever get a next time, Masaki won't be borderline ignored again.

But he probably will, and that's what this post is for.

I hope this has clarified some things about volume 3. As I have already announced, I'm planning on making more analysis on other things that I wasn't able to include here because this post is already enough of a monstrosity as it is. I'll see you guys in the next ones!

Okay already.

Y’all are really damn eager for it, so here you have it: the infamous List of Erased Gay, AKA a glimpse of how we could be having it all if KyoAni weren’t doing us so dirty this year, Tsurune edition. The Violet Evergarden edition seems to have left a big impression, so maybe this listing will become a thing.

Then again, along with the canon gay that we lost, we gained a lot of anime-only shippy service that is not only weirdly fixated on Minato alone but also ruins the nature of many characters. KyoAni has been outright baffling this year in how little it understands the novels that it has been adapting, and even more in how proficient it has become in destroying the main relationships of each title. All in all, the personalities and purposes of the main characters have been severely altered, and there has been a disturbing trend (not only in Tsurune, but also in Violet Evergarden and Liz to Aoi Tori) of making the protagonists obsess with someone who apparently does only the minimum for them and being lukewarm with the people that seemingly care more for their wellbeing.

That’s not what any of these novels are about.

But since this post is centered on Tsurune, I’ll only talk about how the aforementioned major flaws apply to it. That boils down to KyoAni erasing most of what Masaki did for Minato and about 85% of the scenes they had together, replacing it with additional scenes without much purpose involving other characters. For whatever incomprehensible reason, KyoAni is hellbent on enhancing Minato’s relationship with everyone except the person he has the strongest bond with in the books, and a lot of you guys seemed to notice this. So, in order to address the cringeworthy disaster that the Tsurune anime has become, I’m naming this one as the List of Erased and Misplaced Gay.

Had to put it under a cut because of how long it got. While we’re at it, please consider reading the novel translations.

Keep reading

#tsurune #the tsurune bible

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